A/N: This is it: the highly anticipated sequel to Crushed. Well, not really that anticipated. Possibly a little. You know you want it, though. If you don't, take it anyway. This will only really make sense if you read Crushed. Review, otherwise you're stealing my hard work, and it's not easy to make any sense out of the chaos in my head, so be nice. Review. Interesting point, due to my inane ramblings at the end of Crushed I have now received the highest number of active requests for my continued living. Life's just funny I guess.
Disclaimer: You know what's really weird? I've actually gone to the trouble of having people beta this, so it's all quality controlled. Big shout out to Ezekeiel Rage, my Chief Sycophant and beta #1, and Ultrawoman, an excellent author and beta #2. You guys are all right.
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.:Demolished:.
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Unwritten rules
"Ahem!" Giles cleared his throat pointedly, trying almost desperately to not watch the Slayer in the vampires lap. He loved Buffy like a daughter, he really did, and he wouldn't stand in the way of the choices she made, she was an adult now after all, but it was quite inconsiderate of her to snog with her new boyfriend while he was trying to explain the newest threat to Sunnydale. At least the last time he had been forced to endure a shameless display like this he had been blind.
"Sorry," Buffy said sheepishly after breaking away from the breathtaking kiss she'd been sharing with Spike, her face flushed red with embarrassment and something else that Giles really did not want to dwell on. While the Watcher was blocking out some very disturbing thoughts Spike smirked, rolling his tongue behind his teeth, before leaning in to whisper in Buffy's ear. Giles thought her outraged smack to Spike's shoulder was ruined somewhat by the half-suppressed snort of laughter that accompanied it.
"As I was saying," Giles continued, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting their full attention, "the disappearances that have been occurring as of late appear to be the work of a helvinn demon-"
"It's probably not." Anya interrupted casually from behind the counter, counting the money in the register. Giles suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and cleaned his glasses instead, quirking an eyebrow in question. "Helvinns only eat the corpses of children, and they only live in arctic regions."
"Lived, pet" Spike inserted, finally releasing his lips from Buffy's long enough to contribute. "Helvinns have been extinct for about fifty years now."
"Well, I've got no bloody clue then," Giles sighed, exasperated by how lightly his Slayer was taking this whole thing. They had barely stopping kissing the entire time he had been explaining the situation..
"Don't sweat it, Giles. You'll find, I'll slay, we'll party" Buffy shrugged, shifting so she faced Giles instead of Spike. She leaned back into Spike's arms complacently, his leather clad arms wrapping around her waist.
"I don't think you're grasping the levity of the situation here! Half a dozen graves have been robbed every night the last three days. This is the Hellmouth, which makes the possible uses infinitely more dangerous."
"I do get how dangerous it is Giles." Buffy assured him quietly, her calm voice seeming odd when looking at how tense she was. "Nothing on the Hellmouth leads to hugs and puppies. We don't really know anything, and until we do there's no point in worrying about it."
The Slayer and her Watcher looked at one another, before Giles sighed. "Of course, Buffy. I apologise. These disappearances have me on edge and our situation with William has been one constant migraine." Buffy was obviously stifling a giggle as Giles cleaned his glasses absently.
"He's with mom and Dawn now. I swear, mom would never let him go if she didn't have to. 'He's such a sweet boy, Buffy'" she parroted with amusement. Spike smirked over Buffy's shoulder at her slightly less than flattering impersonation of her mother.
"He's a bloody poof is what he is," the vampire grumbled relatively good naturedly. Buffy swivelled back to look at him again with a goofy grin on her face.
"Is my little schnookums jealous?" she cooed in a baby voice. Spike raised a single, sardonic eyebrow.
"Schnookums?"
Buffy just smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Giles massaged the bridge of his nose. He really shouldn't be forced to deal with this. He started slightly when he felt Anya's hand abruptly pat his shoulder in an attempt at sympathy. The doorbell jingled and Xander strolled in with a pizza box in hand.
"The Xan-man is here and he comes bearing- Ah!" Xander shrieked sharply when he noticed Buffy and Spike kissing again and turned his back. "Can you guys not... do that?" he asked in a pained voice, waving vaguely at the still kissing pair over his shoulder. "I'm trying to live in denial here."
XXX
Anya was not a happy ex-demon.
She and Xander had been engaged since the night they beat Glory and saved William, and she still couldn't tell anyone about it. Meanwhile, they had all been turned into the opposite gender, Drusilla had tried to kill them all, Spike had saved Xander, they had been turned back, William had nearly become undone and instead had gotten younger (a method which Anya would probably try to emulate when she got all wrinkly), Spike had been poisoned, Buffy had saved him, they had finally gotten together, they had decided to send William to high school and Giles had organised a new supplier without telling Anya so she could do the usual business things like bribes. It had been a very traumatic experience.
And still, after all that had happened she was still unable to tell anyone. It was horribly unfair, and possibly unconstitutional. At the very least, she still had the money to get her through the day. Making it, counting it, keeping it, having it. But it had started to seem... empty without Xander.
He'd been drawing away a little bit, and Anya was seriously afraid that he wanted out. She knew he only proposed to her because he thought they were going to die. She knew it. She'd seen it countless times in her days as a justice demon. Man likes woman, woman likes man, man gets tired of woman, vengeance becomes necessary.
And that's how she got her plan. If Xander didn't want her anymore, she'd make him want her. He'd never said anything about it, but Anya wasn't a fool and she'd watched Star Wars with him. It had taken her a long time to find the outfit, though. She would have thought that, with the number of geeks out there, it would have been easier to find, but there you go. Then again those geeks never got laid, thus the costumes were unnecessary.
It was a very surprised Xander that came across Anya dressed as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi draped across the couch. To Anya's immense disappointment and considerable disgust, he did not even attempt to ravage her. He just smiled wanly before hanging his coat on the hook and heading into the shower.
Anya began to cry, and not even a pretty cry. Not delicate little tears that glistened on her cheeks and showed the world that she was hurt, but would live. No, these were great heaving sobs that came with a side of runny nose and puffy, unattractive eyes.
Anya sobbed and sniffled for a while, wallowing in her despair until she felt a warm hand on the cooling skin of her shoulder. She raised her soggy head and found herself looking into the warm, concerned eyes of her fiancé.
"What's wrong, Ahn?" Xander asked, as though he cared. Anya almost felt some rage at his posturing before it drowned in the sea of despair in which she found herself.
"You don't love me any more" she whimpered, dropping her head back into the couch cushion. Xander's hand slightly withdrew from her shoulder, only his fingertips resting on her flesh now.
"What makes you say that?" he asked in a strangely strangled voice. Anya waved a hand dismissively.
"It's obvious. You don't want anyone to know about how we're engaged, and you don't even want me any more!" she wailed into the cushion. Her rage bubbled up when she heard Xander's laugh.
"Ahn, Ahn. Look at me." Anya allowed him to coax her into a sitting position. "This is because I haven't told them yet about the engagement, isn't it?"
"No. Maybe. Yes! It's painful and confusing! I mean, first you, you give me this beautiful ring ...and then I can't even wear it in public. I mean, do you know how depressing that is?"
"Anya, I promise, your waiting days are almost over. I, I know it's frustrating ... but the way I understand this marriage thing, it's kind of a forever deal." he assured her.
"Why won't you tell them?" Anya sniffled, calming somewhat.
"Because ... I'm still getting used to the miracle of a steady paycheque. And getting out of my parents' house. And this ... this husband thing ... it's a big step. Or ... a lot of little ones. And ... and I love you so much ... I just want ... every step to be just right."
Anya nearly melted at his words, and leaned in for a sweet, tender kiss before jerking back suddenly.
"Hey! You tricked me! Just now, w-with your fancy talk and, and lips!" she declared loudly, earning a puzzled look from Xander. "What about you not wanting me?" she asked with a gesture at her skimpy costume.
"Ahn, I spent all day hauling bits of timber that weigh more than you across a construction site today. I was very tired."
Anya looked at him shrewdly through lowered lashes.
"What about now?"
XXX
"Would you like some more hot chocolate, dear?" Joyce asked William in a motherly tone. The young boy nodded with a soft smile on his face, feeling accepted. Something in the back of his mind told him that that feeling didn't come along much.
"If it's not too much trouble."
He was actually kind of nervous. He'd been told he'd had excellent schooling, even having had half a semester of modern American university. The only problem was, he didn't remember much of it. He could read, and he still apparently had more general knowledge than either Buffy or Xander, both of whom took that declaration with grace, and the Scoobies had gathered to see what would be done with him.
Rupert would look after him, all agreed. Considering the elder Englishman was the one who had access to William's false documents, and that staying with him would explain William's legal last name being Giles as well as the English accent. A little magic from Willow and the year William was born in was pushed forward another six years, now proclaiming he was sixteen.
Then the Scoobies had applied their collective thoughts as to what should be done about William. Eventually it had been decided that William would attend high school with Dawn. This is why William was so nervous. So far he hadn't had any major problems with his amnesia but so far he'd only dealt with the Scoobies.
Going to a large place filled with people he didn't know, the possibility that he would not remember something crucial and make an absolute fool of himself worried him. Apparently his worry had showed and the Scoobies had all attempted to reassure him.
Only, that didn't go too well. Tales of vampire attacks, demonic swim teams, witches, opening Hellmouths, suicidal youths, cheerleaders and even homicidal people planning to poison the student body were told to William in an attempt to calm him. William decided that these people led far too stressful lives if they considered that calming.
Still, he would be attending the local secondary school at the end of this upcoming Thanksgiving weekend.
He watched Joyce putter about in the kitchen for a moment, before squealing and falling off his chair after something jabbed his lower back. Hard. Looking up from his new vantage point on the floor, William saw a smirking Dawn gloating over her victory as she sat in his recently vacated seat.
"Dawn." Joyce scolded as she slid a cup over the counter to her daughter and a second to William, who was now sitting on the other stool.
"What? The other seat was cold."
XXX
The still air was crisp as the seasons turned towards winter. A light breeze whistled through the cemetery, dragging the yellow leaves through the air sluggishly. Four dark figures laboured over a grave, dark earth flying through the air as they swung their shovels.
Dirt stained their black robes, pallid flesh showing at the hands but hidden by their hoods. They laboured and grunted with effort as the slung great heaps of the grave away from their target. They dug and toiled until one of them heard the weak clunk of wood hitting the coffin.
The shadowy figures turned their hoods towards an empty space at the foot of the now unearthed coffin, glimpses of their maggot-white faces visible due to a pale, unnatural light emanating from runes carved into their sewn-shut eyelids.
A fifth figure appeared out of thin air into the very spot the hooded figures were looking. Bleached platinum blond hair, a clean scar through a dark eyebrow, cold blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, soft mouth, strong shoulders, black leather duster, black t-shirt, black jeans, heavy black shit-kicker boots, standing with a confidence most couldn't pull off with word or deed, let alone simple stance.
"Only a few more now"
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A/N: There it is, chapter one of a new sensation. I'm playing around with a few ideas for the future of this, as well as potential works to coincide with this one. One of these days I'm sure inspiration will strike and I'll finish the some of the others, but only thing I hate more than an unfinished fic is a crap job at finishing it. Bear with me. Or not. Still, be nice to know what you thought in a review.
