Author's Note: The end is nigh, the end is nigh! Unless things radically change during the writing process, there looks to be maybe only 2 chapters (3 tops) and the epilogue left to go. We are very near the end. Thanks to everyone who's stuck it out so far - this has been well over a year in the making and, quite frankly, was never meant to be quite this long, but it somehow took on a life of its own. I hope you can stick it out a little longer, because we're now on the home stretch.
Spike was convinced he was imagining things when he heard her voice drift towards him down the hallway. His brow knit into a frown – surely someone would have told him if…
He sped up and swung open the library door. Buffy was back in the thick of things, leading the conversation:
"So, why did they want us out of the way, specifically?" she was asking. "Are we able to stop them, or…"
"Slayer!" he interrupted. "Little tip for you. Tell a bloke when you wake up from a coma. It's only polite."
"Spike."
Her irritated expression did little to hide the grin on her face at the sight of him. But that didn't mean she couldn't give him a hard time.
"In case you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of a war meeting here. I don't have time to baby-sit, so…" she teased. "Maybe you could – oh, I don't know – help?"
He scowled, but there was a glint in his eye.
"You're the boss," he told her as he sat in the vacant chair to her right. "What's the plan?"
"Well, at the moment we're trying to figure out why the Senior Partners sent the First to wipe out the Slayer line last year," Willow informed him. "Apart from making it a heck of a lot easier for evil to thrive with no slayers in the world."
"And don't forget the scary, scary uber-vamps they would have added to their army if we hadn't stopped them," Dawn added.
Giles sat forward, regarding Spike curiously. "I don't suppose you heard anything about this during your – uh – brief tenure with the Powers that Be?"
"I'm not exactly 'in the know' Rupert," the vampire replied. "I'm on a strict 'need to know' diet with the Powers – and by the looks of things, they don't seem to think I need to know very much at all."
"Spike knowing nothing – something's never change," Xander remarked, with a grin to Willow and Dawn.
"Alright children, enough," Buffy told them. "Let's figure this out. The clock is ticking."
Faith shifted forward, finally joining the conversation. "Thing I don't get is what threat we could be to these guys," she said. "They cut through us like butter. If we hadn't left when we did…" She left the statement hanging, knowing it was unnecessary to fill in the blanks.
"They're not your garden variety vamps or demons," Buffy agreed. "I can't figure it out either. It's not like any one of us can take them down."
"Maybe not individually," Spike interjected, half-kidding. "But maybe if you all channel your power together…"
All eyes in the room were regarding him with different levels of interest and inspiration and surprise.
"What? What did I say?"
Angel clamped his hand to the side of Cordy's neck in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. All the while knowing just how much he'd already drank – hoping it wasn't too much.
He continued to call her name, with increasing desperation. Looking around for help, he realized for the first time that they were no longer on the cliff. There were in what appeared to be a small, dark cave.
And his son was looking straight at him.
"Connor?" he asked, nonplussed. "What – Where are we?"
Connor looked just as shocked as his father – clearly taken aback by the sudden appearance of two people in his hiding space.
"Connor?" Angel tried again when the young man made no effort to answer him. "What's going on? Talk to me."
Connor's look of surprise changed to one of suspicion. With narrowed eyes, he regarded Angel, sizing him up like a potential opponent.
"Why are you calling me Connor?" he finally asked. "My name is Stephen."
"It might work. I'd need time to prepare – to modify the spell…"
They'd talked in circles – the solution, unwittingly suggested by Spike, splitting them down the middle. Giles urged caution, Buffy was worried about it affects on Willow, given the newest loss in her life, while the young witch was uncharacteristically enthusiastic about such a dangerous course of action.
"It won't exactly be a piece of cake, but I really think it's doable," she insisted.
"Will, do you remember what happened the last time?" Buffy asked. "We stirred up some pretty heavy mojo and were hunted in our sleep. And given… what's just happened… are you sure you'd be up for it?"
Kennedy's name hung unspoken but heavy in the air. Willow glared at her friend.
"I'm perfectly capable, Buffy. I'm not catatonic or unable to think clearly. And I'm not going to get dark roots just by doing the enjoining spell. You of all people should know I've moved passed that."
Buffy said nothing, ashamed that she doubted her friend, but still concerned. Accepting that Willow would not be dissuaded from her plan, Giles decided to go with it and reason out the best course of action.
"It will be quite a bit more complex than the original enjoining spell," he remarked. "Have you thought how you might go about it?"
Willow considered it for a moment. "We could combine it with elements from the spell I did last year, to make all the potentials become Slayers," she suggested. "Only, you know, in reverse. I'll need to do some research. Hopefully something in here will help."
"And do Buffy and I duke it out to see which one you work your mojo on, Will?" Faith asked with a smirk. "Cuz, I think I could take her right now."
"In your dreams," Buffy shot back.
Willow shook her head. "There are two demons. I think it should be both of you."
The Senior Partner who bore the Ram's head was in a fury. Flailing about, enraged, he ripped the heads off several lesser demons before his associate, the Wolf, stepped in.
"The One with the sight has intervened!" the Ram fumed. "She has severed my connection to the vampire!"
The Wolf remained even-tempered. "But you retain the power which you have already drawn from him. All is not lost."
"It is only a matter of time before she discovers a way to reverse our magics."
"By then, it will be too late."
At that moment, two psychics approached the immense demons tentatively.
"We have found them, my Lords."
Research got into full swing, and Buffy decided to leave them all to it while she went to get some air. The bump on her head had diminished significantly, thanks to the accelerated healing her slayerhood afforded her, but she was still feeling a little woozy.
Before she left the library, she had again attempted to breech the subject of Kennedy with Willow, to offer her sympathy and let her friend know that she was there for her. But Willow had brushed her off. There would be time to mourn later, she had said. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.
Buffy understood that. It had been something she too had felt when she lost her mom – facing a physical evil may not take the pain or the anger away, but it focused it in a more manageable way. Fighting a battle you still might win was comforting, particularly when a battle you had already lost haunted you.
Buffy didn't hear Spike slip out of the library after her, but wasn't the least bit surprised when he came to stand beside her by the grand window she'd been gazing out of.
"Suns up," she observed. "How come you're not a big pile of dust?"
He closed his eyes and signed, savoring the sunlight on his face.
"Tempered glass," he informed her. "Our ivory tower over at Wolfram and Hart had it too. It's kinder and gentler for the vamp who doesn't tan well."
A comfortable silence settled over them, him presence bringing her more solace than anything he could have said.
Without looking at him, her hand sought his, slipping into it with no resistance. Having been given unspoken permission to touch her, he pulled her by the hand into a tight embrace.
"You okay?" he whispered into her hair, breaking the silence between them.
"Better," she replied. "Getting better by the minute. Slayer strength and all –"
He swooped in and captured her mouth with his – kissing her tenderly at first, before building to a passionate kiss that left her breathless.
"Enough with the tough-girl routine, Slayer," he told her when he finally let her breathe. "It's me you're talking to, not one of your 'Nancy-boy' mates."
She sighed, knowing it was useless to try and lie to him.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "Those demons? Probably the biggest and baddest I've even gone up against. My first encounter with them left me unconscious. Next time, I might not be so lucky."
"Yeah, but Red's on the case, right?" he replied with optimism. "My brilliant idea might actually pay off."
One look in her eyes told him she wasn't quite sharing in his enthusiasm.
"One of these days, our plans, the spells, whatever… one of these days its not going to pay off, and then… We might not walk away from this one."
"But you're not worried about meeting your maker," he said knowingly. "You've already died – what – half a dozen times?"
"Twice, actually," she corrected him. "But who's counting?"
"Yeah, well, whatever. Death doesn't scare you anymore."
She stopped herself before she sighed again. As ever, Spike knew her too damn well…
"I wouldn't be wigging if it were just me in all this. But Dawn? Willow? Xander? Giles? If something were to happen to them – " she paused for a moment. "Or to you…"
He gave her another squeeze. "Don't be getting all misty on me, Slayer. I'm fresh out of hankies," he replied. "I'm already dead, remember? And I'm only here right now on a pass. Come the end of this fight, most likely I'm going back to the great beyond."
She refused to get upset, no matter how much effort it cost her. Instead, she asked him in the most level voice she could muster –
"That doesn't bother you?"
"Used to," he admitted after considering the question for a moment. "When the amulet turned me into a spook and I thought I was checking out, I was terrified. Mostly because I figured a bloke like me – I'd be heading to the fire and brimstone place. But now… now I know I'm going to the good place. So now? No, it doesn't bother me."
Another silence fell between them as Buffy absorbed this. After a moment, Spike drew his body away from hers and turned to look out of the window.
"But you dying in this fight?" he said, not looking at her. "That will bother me. I came back to get you through this in one piece, and that's what I'm going to do, no matter what happens to me in the process."
She shook her head. "This isn't just about me. We need to stop the Senior Partners. If it takes me dying to…"
"No Buffy," he cut her off angrily. "You've already beaten the odds – lived a lot longer than most Slayers. But I intend for you to live a whole lot longer."
He was so fierce, so determined; there was nothing left for her to say. So, instead, she kissed him.
"Connor," Angel tried again as his son looked even more menacing – feral, almost.
"Did you hurt her?" he replied, eyeing Cordelia's limp figure. "Did you drink from her, demon?"
"Connor… I can explain."
For the first time, Angel realized that Connor was dressed strangely – in the animal skins that he had been wearing when he had arrived from Quor'toth. In his hand, he clutched what appeared to be handmade weapons – crude, but no doubt effective.
"My name is Stephen," he insisted again, tightening his grip on his weapons and readying himself for the attack. "I am the Destroyer. My father told me all about your kind. He taught me how to kill you."
"Your father?" Angel frowned, his irritation overcoming his common sense. "Holtz was not your father, Connor. I am."
"No!" Connor yelled, launching himself at Angel. Caught by surprise, Angel stumbled backwards, hitting the ground. Using the momentum of the fall, he flipped Connor over and off of him before the younger warrior could pin him down.
Rolling to one side, Angel leapt to his feet just as Connor came at him again. He dodged three blows in quick succession, before batting one blade out of his son's hand. The other, however, swung around to catch him on the arm. The cut was deep, but didn't slow the vampire down as he spun and kicked Connor backwards.
"Will you just calm down so we can talk about this?"
In reply, Connor pulled a stake from the belt around his waist.
"I guess not," Angel remarked, readying himself for another attack.
Connor lunged at him and Angel caught his wrist, holding the wooden weapon away from his chest as best he could. They collided with the craggy, stone wall and struggled against it; first one, then the other gaining the upper hand.
The stake was pressing into Angel's chest, digging into his skin as he held onto Connor's hand, literally for dear life. The kid was strong – a fact that would have instilled great fatherly pride in him, were it not for the fact that he was now trying to use that strength to commit patricide.
A bright light filled the dark cave, sending Angel and Connor spinning off in opposite directions. When the glow subsided, Angel looked up from his new vantage point of being sprawled on the ground. Cordelia was on her feet, unsteady and pale, definitely still weak, yet glowing with power. Her hands on her hips, she also looked seriously pissed off.
"Are you quite finished?"
To Be Continued...