A/N: I love you guys! Your reviews are awesome. Thanks so much for the feedback and please keep it up. So, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, mainly because I wanted to make up for not updating as often as I'd like, what with the holidays and all, and also because I want to finish the battle part of the story. Like now! It's sooo hard to write anything interesting. So, for those of you who have hung in there through it, I promise to have the battle finished up by the end of the next chapter...YAY! And then I can get on with the rest of the story, as I'm sure you'll all be glad to know. Anywho, hope everyone had a great holiday and this is my belated gift to you...a great gift in return would be lotsa reviews, btw :)

Chapter 8: Strange Reunions

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I only borrow the characters and situations of the Whedonverse for my selfish pleasure (and hopefully yours).

Summary: The merging and continuation of BtVS and AtS. Starts just after 'The Girl in Question,' 5.20, and continues from there.

Recap: Dawn sure is following in Willow's footsteps, what with the crazy magic she managed to pull off. They grow up so fast, don't they! Buffy has been missing the training and fighting, but it's kinda like riding a bike, right? She's also starting to come to some realizations about her power and who she is. Acceptance is long overdue, I think. Now, on with the battle…

--------------------

"So…are you sure you don't need any help with that?" shouted Gunn sardonically, as he sat slumped against the cold brick of the building behind him, his face steadily paling as he clutched his still-bleeding wound and watched in wonder as the bodies piled up around them.

Illyria continued to ignore him, knowing that the injured man could do no damage to the demon population whatsoever. She moved in a flurry of arms, legs and blue hair as she killed one after another, all without a change from the bland and bored expression that adorned her familiar features.

They hadn't moved far from the rubble of the Hyperion where the fighting had originated, mainly because Gunn could barely stand, let alone walk away from their imminent massacre. He'd managed to hang onto consciousness as the fighting started, but he still had no idea where Angel and Spike had gone. Probably got split up in the fighting, but he'd been too preoccupied with trying not to croak in a dingy alley to pay much attention. Thankfully, Illyria had been keeping up her part of the bargain by killing anything that crossed her path, the hundreds of dead demons that surrounded her a testament to her silent rage.

The sound of bones cracking and the stench of soaked, dead flesh was beginning to get to him, and he hoped he managed to keep his gaping stomach from upchucking—he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the pain from that particular experience and it was no way for a Team Angel member to go out. Death-by-Puking had never really figured into how he'd thought he'd die.

Footsteps approached, but he had no energy to raise his head and see who was closing in on him in his prone state. He just prayed to the Powers that none of those ugly baddies had somehow gotten behind their resident God-King, because he was a goner if that were the case.

"Hey Gunn, how's it hangin?" said a cool voice from above, momentarily distracting him from the ripeness of their surroundings that was the cause of his disgustingly gross reverie of before.

He raised his head, just barely, to get a peek at the woman standing over him.

"Faith…you never call, never write…what's a fella supposed to think? But, I've gotta say—you sure have damn good timing," he said with a weakly relieved smile.

"Yah, G-man, it's what I do now—jump in and save the day where I'm needed. If I hadn't managed to find Angel so fast, he'd probably be in worse shape that you are by now."

"Where is the boss, anyway?"

"He's over there backing up the chick that looks a lot like Fred-Gone-Goth. What's up with that hair anyway? Cause her attempt at a makeover is really scary…unless that's what she was goin for…" she muttered derisively.

"Yah, well, that's a long story. If we make it out of this thing alive, maybe I'll tell ya about it."

"Don't worry Gunn, you'll be fine. Just keep hangin on while the rest of us take care of the Evil Army. We've got reinforcements helping out, so we'll be outta this soon."

Gunn's eyes followed the Slayer as she turned and made her way further down the alley to a bunch of…little girls?

What the hell? Where had they come from? Maybe the stench in the alleyway was making him hallucinate, cause he sure never remembered seeing a bunch of little girls in the midst of the demon-palooza that had overtaken downtown L.A. Not that he'd been able to see much of it, of course, sitting here bleeding all over himself and all. It was certainly strange, though, he thought.

"Hey Gunn, how're you doing?" Angel was standing by his side all of a sudden, a concerned look covering his face. Illyria sauntered up as well, having snapped the head off the last demon within their vicinity, and regarded the fallen man with a scowl upon her face.

"I'm still alive, so I guess that counts for something, right?" he said just before succumbing to a mild coughing fit that threatened to tear him in half with the accompanying pain.

"You wreak of death, mortal."

"So do you," he muttered under his breath as his nose picked up the scent of demon blood that blanketed her willowy, leather-encased limbs. The same blood that was causing his gag reflex to act up again. She picked a string of pink entrails out of her hair with a distasteful scowl, and Gunn seriously reconsidered the Death-by-Puking scenario—better to just get it over with now, rather than dealing with more of the ick factor, he thought as his face paled even more.

Angel leaned down, ignoring Illyria's comment and her lack of hygiene, and tried to make his friend a little more comfortable. He couldn't help but agree with her though. Gunn looked like shit.

"It's ok Gunn, we're going to find the rest of the team and finish this. Faith's got some volunteers from her group to protect you while we're gone. I doubt anymore demons will venture this way, as the fighting has mostly moved into the streets now, but just in case."

"Those girls, you mean?" he asked in disbelief, indicating the three females that looked like they were out past their bedtimes, as they followed Faith back to their small assemblage. "How are they gonna protect me?"

"Slayers," supplied Faith. "Don't worry, they can handle themselves. Gunn, this is Rhona, Karrie, and Alise. These girls are some of my best, so you'll be safe from any baddies that might happen by. Come on, Angel. We need to find Spike and Buffy. Let's go." And with that, she took off down the alley swinging her sword absently.

"We'll be back soon. Take care of yourself. Come on, Illyria," said Angel. The God-King spared him a pitying glance before they went after Faith down the alley.

"That's ok, I'll just wait right here for you guys," said Gunn sarcastically as he watched them walk off, feeling useless because of the crater in his abdomen.

He thought he vaguely heard Faith say to Illyria, "So, Fred I just love the hair…" Their voices fading as they moved further away from where he sat flanked by three very young teenagers with large swords who all were staring at him curiously, but not before he noticed Illyria's death glare directed at the brunette Slayer.

Gunn chuckled, finally knowing that they were gonna make it.

--------------------

Spike was in awe of the way she moved, like she was pouring everything that she was into the violence she was enacting. Her strength was something he'd always been familiar with as long as he'd known her, but somehow it did not seem even close to the power she wielded on this night. He could hear the breaking of bones echoing in the night, shattering beneath her fists and feet as she practically reveled in her destruction. He also recognized the look on her face as one of acceptance and peace, strangely enough, and he wondered what she was thinking as she ran another beastie through with the wooden end of her scythe.

It didn't go poof like vamps would, but the staking got the job done just the same. She was moving onto the next demon before the last body even hit the ground, the thud drowned out by her grunts at the effort she was expelling as she threw herself into the next fight with wild abandon.

Tha's my girl!

And Spike knew he was where he was supposed to be. After months of fighting the good fight with Angel and Company, he'd managed to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, letting her get on with her life without him. And, maybe he had been right, but it didn't change the fact that backing up his Slayer felt like what he'd been meant to do all along.

Sure, he'd learned a lot about himself this last year, like he didn't have to be anyone's sidekick to fight the good fight. He had found himself by striking out on his own, no longer anyone's lapdog. He'd had enough of that nonsense to last a hundred lifetimes and didn't fancy repeating his stupidity.

Ok, so he had come back into the Wolfram and Hart fold after his short stint as a vigilante do-gooder, but at least he refused to take any of Angel's bullshit.

Not that he ever really had.

As fun as it had been throwing as much snark as possible towards his grandsire, nothing could compare to fighting alongside her, though, being her right hand in battle. He'd missed this, almost as much as he'd missed her.

Almost.

He should never have stayed in Los Angeles after getting cured of the ghosties. He should have gone with his first instinct and hopped a plane to Rome and back to Buffy.

Only…if he'd done that, he'd never have found his independence. He would've probably gone on to happily be her faithful lapdog, doing whatever she'd asked of him; anything to win her favor…forever Love's Bitch. Yep, that was him alright.

Some thing's never changed.

So maybe, things had worked out the way they should've; him staying away, giving them both time to grow and learn more about themselves, no matter how much he'd wanted to run to her side to once again bathe in the radiance that was Buffy Summers.

The truth of it was, he'd been scared; scared that she hadn't meant what she'd said in the cavern, scared that she would accept him back into her life only because of her stupid sense of obligation to him, like for destroying the Hellmouth, perhaps? A sense of obligation that she took very seriously, he knew. The last thing he would've wanted was to be a part of her life, whether as a friend or otherwise, only because she'd felt duty-bound to him.

And, he still didn't know if she wanted him back in her life at all really, only that she'd come to save him. Spike grimaced in self-doubt, not liking the questions his inner ramblings were raising. Nonetheless, for once in his unlife he wasn't going to jump to conclusions when it came to the Slayer, even despite the kiss they'd shared upon reuniting. He'd done it too many times, only to met with bitter disappointment. And Spike was sure as hell sick to death with disappointment.

No…she'd saved him, and until they did get to that Q & A session like she'd promised, that was all he was sure of.

For now, that would have to be enough.

--------------------

Buffy and Spike finished off the last of the demons that were in the alley and they both took a breather while they could, knowing that the respite wouldn't last long.

"You alright?" Buffy panted as she leaned against the closest building and rotated her sore shoulder. Stupid demon, he'd come out of nowhere and nearly dislocated her arm before Spike had pulled him off of her with an almighty roar and a stab through the stomach. At least it wasn't broken though, she thought distractedly.

"Right as rain, luv. You?" he asked as he watched her movements with a curious eye, checking her reaction to see if indeed her arm was still in one piece. It was nice, she thought with a smile, noticing his concern.

"Yah, fine…" she said with a sigh, still feeling a stiffness in her joint but ignoring it as she pushed off the wall to walk closer to where he was crouched and nonchalantly leaning against the sword in his hands as he tried to catch his unneeded breath. He made quite a sexy picture, all wet from the precipitation, mussed hair in curls and the fire in his eyes from the fight. Despite the blood and bruises that covered him, he was still the hottest thing on two legs.

She really had to think of something to distract herself from the sight of him watching her from his low vantage point before she decided to resume with the lip-locking she'd initiated before. Either that, or tell him, finally, of the feelings screaming inside her to be released. So not the time and place for it, though. There'd be time enough for that conversation later. And hopefully more kissage too!

"Speaking of rain," she started inanely in an awkward attempt at small talk, while hoping he wouldn't discern the reason for her flushed cheeks other than from the fight, "Does it do this often? I never remembered it being this bad when I lived in L.A. In fact, I never remember it raining at all, really. Well, maybe once…" she finished lamely, wishing she could kick herself in her own ass for her stupid segway into Southern California weather.

God, she really was a lost cause.

Spike stood up gracefully and shrugged a leather-clad shoulder, apparently unaware of her embarrassing attempts at conversation, or else pretending to be anyway, as he answered, "Must be the apocalypse and all. For some reason bad weather always goes hand in hand with big evil. 's stupid really, when you think 'bout it. Like a big demon army isn't ominous enough. Gotta throw a massive downpour into the mix jus' to make things interesting." He half-smirked, half smiled as he looked back at her with a light-hearted glint highlighting his big, blue eyes.

Buffy smiled warmly in return, her embarrassment forgotten in his amusing attempt to lighten the tension between the two of them. She had no doubt that he was aware of her racing heart and emotional upheaval, because he always knew somehow, but he was trying to make them both feel less uncomfortable in this strange reunion they'd now found themselves. And for that, she found him even more enduring, if that was possible.

"You know…I never really thought about it, but you're right. Must be the impending sense of doom that always comes when the big, gray storm clouds roll in overhead. Like in those cheesy murder mystery movies that Giles doesn't think I know he watches."

And somehow she was suddenly glad that the two of them, despite all that they had been through, could stand here and talk about stupid, incredibly unimportant things like L.A. weather and Giles's choice of programming even in the midst of a huge battle. It really had a way of putting the tension between them on ice…for the time being, at least.

Spike smirked as he absently patted the pockets of his jeans before fishing out his shiny lighter, "Watcher man still has bad taste in film, I see. Thought he'd grow outta tha'."

"Apparently not, cause I overheard him asking one of Faith's trainees if she'd been taping Passions for him and could she please send the copies to him in London asap." Buffy tried hard to keep her small smile secret at her pointed dig, but he'd caught it anyway.

"I'll have ya know, I haven't watched Passions in a long while. Too much to do around this hell hole, tha's for sure. Still a bloody great show, though…now where are those stupid smokes," the last was muttered huffily as he dug around in the pockets of his duster, searching for his cigarettes, but coming up with nothing but a soaked pack.

He sighed, throwing his head back in exasperation at his plans for a quick smoke break being foiled by said rain.

Buffy watched his actions, and she realized how much she'd missed Spike and his weird and highly comical mannerisms over the last year. Sure, she'd missed the fighting and fucking too, but it was the little things, seemingly unimportant, that really brought it home to her that he was standing only a few feet away from her after she'd thought she'd lost him forever.

The way he'd tilted his head whenever he'd watched her, thinking she didn't notice it. The way he'd had to try so damn hard to hang onto his limited patience in certain situations by clenching his jaw to keep from screaming his frustration. The way he'd always had something snarky to say, even when he should've kept his mouth shut, and most of the time he'd still made a lot of damn sense. But that was just Spike…he never did what you expected, but always the opposite.

God, she'd really missed him.

And that was something she really did want to tell him, right this very instant. A fairly safe expression of emotion, as far as she was concerned. At least in comparison to the rest of the stuff she wanted to say to him very soon. But this, well, she could do it.

"Spike…" she said, touching his arm to get his attention, looking at him sincerely and hoping she didn't stutter or anything.

He looked at her hand on his arm, and then looked into her open face, seeing that she needed to say something. She felt him hold his unneeded breath in anticipation as she stared into his soft eyes.

She could do this!

"Spike…I—"

Since they'd both been staring into each other's eyes like lovesick fools, which in reality they both were, neither one of them noticed the three people approaching, until a hand fell on Buffy's shoulder, shocking her into action. Thinking another demon had found them, Buffy whirled around, scythe raised menacingly, to make quick work of their would-be attacker.

Faith, knowing better than anyone how a Slayer would react when surprised, jumped back, Buffy's blade barely missing her torso.

"Hey, B, when ya get so jumpy?" Faith teased. "Nearly took me out, there."

"Maybe you shouldn't sneak up on people then," she shot back, a little perturbed that her window of opportunity had been missed. For now, anyway.

"Well, I thought you might like to see what I picked up on the way…" she remarked as she stood aside to reveal Angel standing behind her, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Angel!" Buffy, exclaimed excitedly, rushing forward to envelope him in a friendly hug, her relief that he wasn't dust palpable to all who stood in the alley.

--------------------

Spike glared at Buffy and Angel, wrapped in each other's arms, both happy to see one another. If they even kissed this time, tongues or no, he was definitely outta here!

Faith noticed his glare and tried to hide her knowing smirk, but failed miserably.

Spike then glared at Faith, just because she looked smug about the whole situation. Stupid bint.

Angel and Buffy broke apart smiling that they were all still alive. The eldest Slayer's attention turned to the third member of the new arrivals, Illyria, as the God-King regarded the emotional reunion with disdain etched on her face.

"Hi," greeted Buffy, accompanied by a small wave in her direction.

Illyria ignored her before turning to Angel and saying, "Is this the cookie?…she looks far to breakable and her raging, pointless emotions affect me with their filthiness. She is disgusting." She turned back to Buffy, a superior light in her eye as she took a menacing step forward, "Be gone, little one, before I crush you."

Buffy, obviously spitting fire now, took a step forward as well, ready to do battle, "Go ahead, Goth-girl, and you'll find out what it feels like to have my new Italian Leather boot jammed in you're a—."

Before she had a chance to finish her threat, Spike rushed to her and wrapped one arm around her waist and the other hand clamped to her mouth in the effort of avoiding disaster. Picking her up and removing the loudly protesting Slayer across the alley and far from Illyria's reach was Spike's only hope to avert the violence promised by the two warriors.

He looked over his shoulder to see Angel and Faith putting an end to Illyria's skulking insults before more damage could be done.

Chuckling, and perversely proud at the profanity spewing from Buffy's lips, Spike tried his best to calm down the fuming woman in front of him. "Let it go, Summers. Pay no attention to the Blue Meanie here, she has no sense of people skills whatsoever. Doesn't exactly keep her thoughts to herself. Besides, she'd wipe the floor with you, pet, and since you'd just gotten here and all, I'd like keep you around for a bit."

Buffy snorted derisively, crossing her arms in annoyance, "I'd like to see her try it!"

"Believe it or not, she's on our side, so you two will just have to wait to kill each other till after the apocalypse, luv. Deal?" he pressed, hoping she would concede to her common sense.

She hesitated, but apparently common sense won out over suicide. "Fine…deal," she said grudgingly. "But just because she's a good guy doesn't mean I have to like her," she pouted sullenly.

Spike, smiling at her cute lower lip, remarked, "Wouldn't ask ya to, luv. Come on, let's get back to the rest of the group an' get this show on the road. Wha' d'ya say?"

His sullen Slayer nodded and followed him over to the others just in time to hear Faith's suggestion that they all charge into the streets to join the rest of the Slayer army they'd brought along.

"Why the hell not? I got nothin' better to do," volunteered Spike, hefting his sword over his shoulder.

"Yes, I wish to cause more violence suddenly," stated Illyria in the monotone voice he was becoming used to. Obviously she was still spoiling for a fight.

"I couldn't agree more," said Buffy, glaring in Illyria's direction. Obviously she was still spoiling for a fight too.

At least they were willing to take it out on the demon army rather than on each other.

"Come on gang, let's get to work," said Angel as they all started to walk toward the fighting.

"Uh, Peaches…you already said that earlier. Couldn't think of any other lame one-liners, huh?"

"Shut-up Spike," sighed Angel.

"Still falling back on old favorites, I see. Maybe the imagination isn't what it used to be, huh?"

And the two vampires continued to bicker the entire way into the fray, while the three females tried their best to ignore them…

TBC