Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I'm mildly hyper. My three Buffy box sets arrived, and I'm...yeah. Spike! Finally my collection is complete, after maybe six years! So, um, yes, thanking you for the reviews.

Chapter Eight: Fights
Finding Glory turned out to be a lot easier than any of them had expected. It also made things a lot more difficult, as Buffy knew the instant she laid eyes on the hell goddess.

She was patrolling with Spike and Angel. It was...different, and almost uncomfortable. Angel kept treating her like she was still seventeen, and Spike kept making lewd comments that made Angel want to snap his grandchilde's neck. Buffy managed to ignore him for the most part, but Max's confrontation with Angel kept nagging at her thoughts. Not to mention the weirdness that had been a day spent in the company of a girl supposedly her sister.

She growled with frustration and did several cartwheels in a row, trying to get rid of some of her nervous energy. It scarcely worked; all she got for her efforts were strange looks from her vampire guards.

"Oh, shut up," she complained. "Like this isn't weird for you, too."

"Yeah, but seein' you do the acrobatics? Making it less weird all the time, pet."

She rolled her eyes at Spike. "Oh, come on. Girl's gotta have a little bit of fun."

Angel frowned. "Buffy, what's gotten into you tonight? This situation is really serious, you know."

"I've dealt with worse, oh brooding one," she said insolently. "You think there weren't hell gods in Phtygiktha?" She jumped and grabbed hold of the branch of a tree and swung for a few moments. "Oh come on, you stupid vampires!" she called in exasperation. "I could be having a good fuck right now."

Spike blinked. "Uh, pet, who are you and what have you done with Annie? 'Cos you weren't like this yesterday."

"No." Buffy dropped to the ground, eyes wide. "There's something wrong here."

"It's called a Hellmouth," Angel said dryly.

"No, something else, something..."

"Hey! Ugly vampire! I want a word with you!"

"Glory!" Spike hissed, whirling around with a whoosh of black leather. Angel was in game face in a moment.

Glory, Buffy saw, was in the form of a woman in her late twenties. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. She was evil; there was equally no doubt about that.

She looked at Buffy with a strange frown. "Hey, where do I know you from?"

Buffy whimpered and dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered, head bowed. "Great Goddess, I did not recognise you."

"Slayer, what are you doing?" Spike demanded, eyes flashing. Glory stalked past him and stared down at Buffy. "Slayer – "

"Shut it, small fry," Glory said dismissively. She took Buffy's hand and hauled her to her feet. "You're a Slayer, huh? You're cute." Her face grew even colder. "So how come you know how to address me properly?"

Buffy kept her eyes on the ground. She was more afraid than she could ever remember being. "Great Goddess, I was in Phtygiktha for a time," she whispered.

"I can't hear you. Speak up."

"I was in Phtygiktha, my Goddess," Buffy said louder. "F-for many years." She risked a glance up, and saw Spike and Angel watching her incredulously. She lowered her gaze again. "I beg forgiveness, my Goddess, I did not know..."

Glory preened. "Well, at least someone in this world knows how to treat me." Then she was pushed forward as Angel kicked her. Buffy was pushed aside. Glory rose to her feet, facing the two vampires with fury on her face. "Hey! I was talking here! Rude much?" She glared at Buffy, who was struggling to her feet. "Hey you, slave. Stay put like a good dog."

Buffy watched the fight from the ground. If it could be called a fight at all; the two vampires were Masters, but neither was really holding their own against Glory. The goddess was just toying with them. She'd get bored soon enough, just as her sibling gods did, and then her attention would return to Buffy.

A surge of strength swept through her, and she knew that someone had sent it to her through their bond. It was enough to get her to her feet. None of the three noticed; Glory was too busy pounding on Angel.

She took a deep breath and then threw all her strength into a roundhouse kick. Glory went down. The world seemed to hold its breath for a moment.

"Hey, slave, I thought I said to stay down!" Glory got to her feet. "You ruined my shoes, slave!"

Buffy lifted her chin. "I'm not a slave," she said clearly, and threw a punch that Glory didn't manage to avoid. "I'm not a slave." Another punch; Glory caught her fist.

"Honey, that's all you are, and all you'll ever be." Glory grabbed Buffy's hair and forced the slayer to the ground. "You're weak. You're nothing but a slave, a slut, good for nothing but breeding, spewing out more of your pathetic race to be slaves. You're a whore, a breeding mare, nothing more and never will be."

Tears ran down Buffy's face, but she forced a word out anyway. "Buffy."

Glory wrenched her up. "What did you say, slave?"

"Buffy." She pulled herself away from the goddess, leaving Glory a fistful of her long hair. "My name is Buffy, you bitch." She hissed something in that other language, and drew on all the strength of those bonded to her. All over town, in all the hotels, people fainted as she drew more and more strength from them – almost more than she ever had before. "Go to hell, Goddess." A single word was torn from her mouth, and Glory disappeared with a flicker, transported some five hundred miles away.

Buffy's small form crumpled, as if her spirit had fled. It was left to the two vampires to pick up her limp body and carefully carry her back to the Magic Box, where she and her friends had decided to set up camp.

Buffy smiled as something tickled her stomach just above her scar. "Mm."

"Don't I merit more than a 'mm'?" Alex teased her, moving up her body to kiss her gently.

"Sleepy."

"You're asleep, buttercup, you can't be sleepy," Simone told her with a light laugh as she rubbed her mate's feet.

Buffy frowned. "This is a dream." Alex had been killed before Simone had been brought into Phtygiktha; they'd never known each other.

"But it's a nice dream," Simone pointed out, ever the pragmatist.

"You can't stay here, Annie," Alex said momentarily. "There's things for you to do."

"I know. Glory."

"No," Simone shook her head, glossy dark curls bobbing against her neck. "Your sister needs you."

Buffy's thoughts crept to Ella, but that seemed wrong. Dawn? No. Faith?

"You're starting to understand," Alex nodded.

"You were never supposed to be in Phtygiktha," Simone put in.

"It was a mistake," Alex agreed.

"A mistake? Alex, I don't understand."

He smoothed her hair back from her face. "You don't have to, yet. But it's important, little Slayer."

She stared. "Why are you calling me that, Alex?"

"Because that's what you are," Simone told her. "You are the Slayer."

Into each generation a slayer is born, one girl in all the world...

"Chosen one," Alex continued. "Born with the strength, the skill."

"You have us with you always, Annie, and that makes you stronger yet," Simone told her gently. "But there's trials to face, buttercup, and I can't help you with that."

Buffy struggled to understand, but her thoughts were clouded. "Simone...please, I don't..."

"You're not Annie," Alex said quietly, seriously. "You've known that for a long time. You've got to stop denying who you are. You started, with Glory. But it's going to take a lot more than that." He pulled her to her feet and spun her around. The Master stood before her, a figure that had haunted her dreams for decades. Alex shoved her towards him, and the Master bit into her neck before asking a question.

"Who are you?"

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Coming next chapter:

Hattie causes a few problems...