His Slayer

Disclaimer: Joss owns Btvs

A/N: Hi all. Bet you all are surprised that I updated again, huh? Well I've been trying to be diligent about this and update often instead of waiting for months on end. Guess what? I saw Spiderman this past weekend. Twice! So now I must insist that all of you go see it. This is really what a sequel should be. Absolutely the freaking best. And Mary Jane's wigs were way better than the last movie. Anyway not much else to tell except that I'm thinking this story ought to be done in 30 chapters. Also as some of the fic is based in England I've sort of made up streets and descriptions and stuff. I'm not lazy but I didn't feel like looking up certain facts. I wanted to create my own London that meets the needs of this story so any mistakes are mine due to that. Enjoy. Skyz.

Chapter Twenty-Four:

Samantha Giancarlo was not impatient by nature but was just now beginning to become impatient. She had dreamed somewhat of this day and now that it was going to happen she could not begin to understand what was going to happen. From what Regi had told Lorenzo this Dr. Walsh was some kind of mad scientist. And while the image those words conjured were not heartening she could deal with it. Because it was all for a good cause after all. If they could get a baby out of this then it would all be worth it.

Pacing the length of her living room with her hands fisted at her sides she kept her gaze on the entrance way of the living room. Lorenzo's gaze was fixed on her as he lounged on the couch.

"What are you thinking?" he asked then as she turned.

Blowing out a useless breath she shrugged her shoulders and slowly spread her hands out in front of her.

"This Dr. Walsh… do you think she'll be able to give us the baby we want Lorenzo? I think that perhaps it is a useless thing to get our hopes up over this. I could not bear it if we were to hope and then find out it can not be done."

Lorenzo merely blinked indolently at her as his rather thin lips pursed in concentration.

"You do forget that there is the child she has. This baby that belongs to William the Bloody and Drusilla. And we are also vampires. Superior beings that can kill her. She should be sufficiently scared enough to do as we wish."

She sent him a smirk before her head shot up and she moved towards the doorway.

Lorenzo rose as well as they both heard the sounds of a car driving through the gates and coming down the driveway. Excitement thrummed through her as she swept down the hall to the foyer and waited at the door.

Lorenzo was a solid presence at her shoulder as she opened the doors as the long dark car rolled to a stop at the doors. Doors opened and vampires swept out of the car.

"Mikhail," Lorenzo's voice was sharp as he saw the tall vamp drag out a petite woman with short cropped hair. Mikhail nodded as he moved Maggie towards them.

Samantha ignored the doctor and let her eyes be riveted on the small baby that her second in command now held. She took a step forward even as she let her senses spread outward. Her head tilted backwards as she inhaled sharply. The baby was human. And yet she could smell vampire and it wasn't any of their people. It was a weird combination that belonged solely to the baby.

Her gaze met Belthar's as he held the baby out to her.

"This is the baby. The woman says his name is Tate."

Samantha's hands visibly shook as she reached for Tate. She settled the sleeping baby to her shoulder and gazed down at him with a look of awed wonder on her beautiful face. She traced a finger down the softest cheek she'd ever felt. A smile worked its way onto her trembling lips and she closed her eyes savoring the moment.

Lorenzo's voice grabbed her attention seconds later as he spoke to Maggie.

"Dr. Walsh. Welcome to our home. Come. Come. We shall all sit down and get better acquainted." With that said Lorenzo jerked his head in the direction of the house and Mikhail led Maggie inside, while the other vampires' remained outside waiting for their masters' orders.

Lorenzo moved towards Samantha and let his eyes rest on Tate.

"Look at him," Samantha marveled aloud her gaze lifting to his.

Leaning forward he pressed his lips to hers and whispered, "Our son is marvelous. Come cara let us get him settled."

"Bloody fool is what he is," Rowan muttered to herself as she and Oz walked the streets of London. She hobbled quite fast as they walked and Oz almost had to jog to keep up with her. He glanced at her and decided to ignore her mutterings as he had been doing the past day and a half. She was upset about Spike leaving as he had. Giving up the search for Tate in order to be with Buffy.

She liked Buffy well enough but it was bigger than her and for that matter Tate. It was about a mad scientist playing God with the natural order of things. If Maggie was not stopped who was to say that things would not spiral outward and with the backing of certain factions of vampire's and other demons Maggie could bring about all kinds of evil.

So if she was a little upset that Spike had gone off to be with Buffy then she had good reason.

"Stupid, stupid, stup-"

"Could you stop?" Oz finally muttered as he grabbed her arm to keep her still. "It's not doing any good getting mad at Spike like that. He's doing what he thinks is best. He got the word out about Tate. So the baby should be safe enough. Maggie's not going to hurt him. Besides Spike's thoughts were with Buffy anyway. It's better this way. We'll take care of things here. Just calm down."

She turned to peer at him.

"For a werewolf you're awfully laid back. It's just that this- argh this is just what I didn't want to happen. Where did Spike meet this chap at?  Said he was a horned demon fellow. Sounds like a T'radoki demon. They habitat underground. Like rats they scuttle about," she muttered.

Oz felt the distinct urge to roll his eyes.

"Are you always this uptight? I mean come on. We're out to save maybe the world! Gotta put a little life into this party. Milo's up ahead. He's been watching us for the past ten minutes."

With that said Oz moved away from Rowan and moved purposefully ahead his eyes resting on Milo who'd just emerged once again out of the shadows and stood watching them approach.

"Where's Spike?" Milo called out as Oz paused a few feet from him.

Oz straightened to his not so impressive height and met Milo's black gaze.

"He had some important things to take care of. I'm Oz. A friend of his. So… what's the verdict?"

Milo moved closer to Oz until only inches separated them and he inhaled deeply his black eyes flashing red briefly as he did this. He moved back a step then and narrowed his eyes.

"You're a werewolf. That'll come in handy. We want the Council. That's the only way we'll help Spike find his baby. All they've got is now ours and you're gonna help us get it."

Oz felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as Milo said this. It was not a good feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at Rowan who was staring suspiciously at Milo.

She probably didn't trust him. He wasn't sure if he trusted Milo either. But it was up to them now as Spike was gone, and they now had to do what they had too do in order to find Tate.

"How about we shake on it?" Oz asked as he held out his hand. He stared slightly transfixed as Milo's hand blood red with tiny horns adorning the back of it reached for his.

Their hands met and they shook on it.

"Well now that's settled then let's gets on with it. Who are we going to be working with in this? I don't trust you but we need your help. And you need ours. So there will be no back stabbing. Am I understood? If one of us dies there's no way you're getting into the Council. You'll need a witch to do it and no one will help you if I turn up dead. You've my word on that Milo."

Oz wondered if Milo had caught the contempt stamped onto the way Rowan said his name. It wasn't as if she'd tried to hide that she clearly did not like Milo's kind. Oz suspected she might be more of a problem than Spike had ever imagined and it looked like he would be the one to handle her.

A grimace crossed his face as Milo and Rowan locked gazes.

"I do understand English Rowan of the Gradaclough clan. We understand eachother. Come with me and we'll get started."

Giles sipped his water as if it were the finest port he'd ever tasted. Leaned back against the cushions of his couch his feet were propped up on his coffee table. Relaxed as he pretended to be his mind was whirling with all sorts of thoughts. None of them particularly good.

 He wanted to regret his behavior with Buffy but the feeling would not come and he was left feeling cold and empty. He had once thought the greatest privilege of being a watcher was getting a Slayer of his or her own. Being the one to mold this legend into one of the fiercest things in the entire world. To make his mark as a good watcher was to make a Slayer worth mention in the annals of history the Council relied so heavily upon.

So when he was told that he would be taking over for a fellow watcher who had fallen in battle and would get his very own Slayer he had been more than pleased. He had been proud. So very proud that he'd managed to do what none of his other relations had managed. Buffy Summers had been her name and if he'd thought it an odd name he'd not let it bother him. Nor had the thought of her being from the sunny lands of California. He'd heard a great many things about Slayers but nothing had prepared him. Nothing had made him aware of the many facets that went into the make up the girls they molded into the very image the Council wanted.

These girls for that was what they were. Little girls barely above being called babies. Thrown into a world they did not entirely believe in or understand and asked--no--demanded of to go out and slay the evil creatures of the night.

So her way had been unorthodox and he'd had to adjust according even though his training had him thinking it would be quite easy to make this girl listen to him and do as he said. He was after all her elder and knew much more about this than she. It should have been easy. It should have been routine. It should have been the grandest thing that he'd ever done in his entire life. It should have been enough to make him forget the misdeeds of his own wayward youth.

But it was none of those things.

It did not sooth the gaping wound of his insecurities and battered ego, it was not the balm to his darkness, nor the great hope he had envisioned. Instead it was a teenage girl who was…a teenage girl. She did things all teenagers would do. She rebelled. She dated. She broke rules meant to keep her safe.

But with Buffy nothing was as simple as that. She was not a normal teenager and that was the entire problem. She could not break the rules as any simple girl could. She destroyed them, trampled them until they were but a vague memory. She didn't date regular boys. She dated a man many years older than her compared to human standards and infinitely older by vampire standards. Not even a man. A demon in the guise of a man. Who seduced her with his mysterious ways. Appealed to her on levels Giles did not even want to contemplate. Who came with a curse that neither was aware of. Though he was hard pressed to believe that Angel did not know of the consequences of his involvement with the Slayer. Muchless a girl of her age.

Their relationship was doomed from the very beginning and he to this day cursed himself for ever letting that creature near Buffy. If he had been a better watcher instead of trying to be both father figure and friend all that had happened would not have. He had been intrigued by a vampire with a soul. Unheard of. But he'd seen the goodness in Angel's gaze and had been at once horrified and so very much transfixed.

"Why?" He asked now. How? How had it all come to this? Why? Why? Why?

Bitter anger gripped him by the throat and with a muttered curse he flung his glass across the room watching dully as it connected and shattered against the opposite wall.

He swung his feet down and rose to his feet. Looking about wildly he found his keys tossed onto the floor and scooping them up he headed for the door. He needed a drink and he didn't have anything strong enough to take him away. To make him forget this nightmare of his own making.

He swung open his door with so much force that it slammed into the wall behind it and bounced off hitting him in the shoulder. He stumbled slightly and a hand reached out and gripped his arm.

He lifted his eyes.

"Rupert Giles?"

Just his bloody luck, he mused resignedly, as he met the gaze of the man before him.

"Yes?" he asked coldly taking in the man's appearance. Dressed from head to toe in military fatigues he posed a daunting figure. There was another man with him dressed in a dark suit and a narrow red tie. He offered Giles a smile.

"You need to come with us."

"What is this about?" Giles demanded as he was tugged none too gently from his doorway. The suited man took his keys from him and proceeded to lock his front door for him.

"Wouldn't want any one to break in and burglarize you, now would we?"

"I think you know what this is about Rupert," the soldier responded to Giles's question. "Did you think you could get away with destroying a United States military base and there would be no consequences?"

"I had nothing to do with that," Giles snapped as he began to struggle.

"Struggle all you want. Didn't help the others. Not even the Slayer."

That stilled Giles.

"Buffy?" he asked sharply.

The man in the suit just grinned at him as the soldier led him away.

Wesley tried not to look at Buffy as they walked. He'd let her take the lead not sure where she was headed but sure they'd get there eventually. He knew she must be hurting in more ways than one. He could only imagine what she was feeling.

"You know," she said then. The first words she'd spoken in more than thirty minutes and Wes could not stop the little jump he took. He turned his head to face her head on.

"What?" he asked as it seemed she wasn't going to finish her thought.

She paused then.

"I don't blame Giles. For how he feels. He should hate me, in fact they all should."

Concerned at her flat tone he reached out to touch her only to drop his extended hand when she moved away. It was clear she did not want his comfort and he tried unsuccessfully to block the hurt this caused.

"That's not true Buffy. You were doing what you thought best. You are not clairvoyant. You had no idea that this would end up such the mess it is. It was not in your control. You had no control over Maggie or Rupert or your mother for that matter. Decisions were made and the path was set whether we want to travel it or not. It's before us and there's no going back. I want you to realize something Buffy. You have not lost everything. I am your friend and will be until the day I die. You've your friends. Your life. There's still more of life to live, to see and experience."

"Words. It's all just words," she muttered despairingly.

"Buffy?"

Wes watched her turn sharply in the other direction. Frowning he watched her closely as she began to speak.

And not to him.

"Where have you been?" Buffy demanded as she spotted Joyce hurrying towards her.

"Buffy I'm sorry but-"

"Why are you even here if you're not there when I need you?! If you're haunting me then you'd better start doing a better job, mom."

"Who are you talking to?" Wes asked as he moved beside Buffy.

"Buffy the Initiative has Giles. And Willow and Xander. And Faith. They have them all," Joyce said urgently.

Buffy shook her head as if she hadn't heard right.

"What's wrong? Who are you talking to?" Wes raised his voice as Buffy shook her head.

"The military has them all. Everyone. Mom says they've got them all. Why? For what reason? Is it Maggie?"

Wes looked around wildly sure that Buffy had lost her mind completely.

"You don't know. Well I don't know either," was what Buffy was saying now.

"Your mother? Buffy she's quite dead. Are you feeling all right? You…had that bad spell earlier. Perhaps we'd best head for my room and let you rest a bit more."

Wes reached for her arm closing his fingers around her elbow.

Buffy turned suddenly seeming to hear her mother's voice, only to be knocked down. Wes stumbled losing his grip on Buffy as the vampire took Buffy to the ground. He glanced around and felt his heart take a dive into his stomach as he saw the vampire in full game face atop Buffy.

Face white and hands sweaty Wes watched as the vampire struggled with Buffy and he hesitated. He had never killed a vampire before. He was as scared and nervous as ever. He reached slowly into his pants pockets for the stake he had there.

Before he could do anything more than wrap his hand around the end a blur of black and white flashed through the night and ripped the vampire off of Buffy.

In seconds the vampire was dust floating gently in the wind only to settle over Buffy's prone body.

Wes turned and stared in shock at Spike as Spike stood frozen his entire being still.

"Spike?" Wes asked then in surprise and delight.

He watched as Spike tilted his head to one side and his eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at Buffy. Wes turned his eyes to the Slayer as well. Curious as to what had captured Spike so.

Buffy lay sprawled in the ground, her hair spread out beneath her, her dress covered in ashes, and her eyes were wide, and Wes suspected were tear filled by the wet sheen he saw.

"Buffy…" Spike said then. Wes was startled by the raw tone of it. He would think this would be a happy moment as the last time Spike had seen Buffy she'd been a coma. "Buffy…" he repeated.

Buffy lifted her hands.

Wes gazed at them noting how small they were. Surprised once more at the strength they held. The vampire's ashes coated the backs of them and as he watched Buffy rubbed her hands together seeming to be transfixed.

Abruptly Spike was dropping to his knees beside her.

"Buffy," Spike said again his voice no more than a whisper this time. His hands reached out for her and she scrambled back shaking her head.

Wes thought for a moment that she'd been possessed. Something was obviously not right. She could not be too upset that Spike had come back for her could she?  Now all three of them could go off to find Tate. As they were obviously meant to do.

Spike followed her on his knees.

She looked absolutely tortured as his hands wrapped around her own and Spike lowered his head to press his lips against their entwined hands.

"It's gone," Wes heard her say and frowned.

"I know. I know luv. I know," Spike whispered back.

Wesley felt his frown deepen until it came to him. So suddenly that his head jerked back and he gasped. He shook his head not content to believe what his mind was telling him. But he could not deny what he'd just seen. Or for that matter what it meant.

He felt like dropping to his knees beside the two who seemed to have forgotten he was even there and crying. But he couldn't seem to move or even speak. All he could do was try and deny what Buffy had said. Her powers could not be gone. Her powers could not be gone. Her powers could not be gone. Perhaps if he said it enough times it would become true.