"The thing about changing the world... Once you do it, the world's all different.

-Buffy

Chapter 10-

"Excuse me?"

Oh Buffy soooo did not like that tone. She found herself cringing at her mother's unflinching stare, clearly waiting for her answer. Her friends were, unfortunately, just as shell-shocked as she was. How, exactly, was she suppose to explain this? Jesse, Xander and Willow were fidgeting in their own little corner of the front yard. Amy was positioning herself closer and closer to the front door, ready to break into a run. Giles was standing not one foot behind her mother, mouth opening and closing uselessly. Frowning she tried to meet her mothers eyes.

"I'm a Vampire Slayer mom."

Her mother had seemed angry before but now her eyes had widened considerably, her hands falling from their place at her hips to hang by her sides, fingers curling, her mouth hung open in incredulous disbelief.

"Really?" Her mother's voice was tight with rage. Buffy took an involuntary step back, she had a perfect memory of how this had gone before: Not good. Proof would help and part of her desperately hoped that Angel would appear, do something good with his stalking for once. Sadly she didn't sense him anywhere near. She was scared. If her mother had been yelling or screaming she could've handled it. This quiet rage was something all together different. It meant she was in deep shit. Time to face the firing squad.

"Look, mom, I know you think I'm joking or deranged or whatever but I need you to listen to me. Please." Her mother raised a single eyebrow but remained quiet. Buffy took this as a sign to continue.

"You remember when the school burned down? You know I did that but I lied as to why. The school was infested with vampires and it was the only way I could kill them all. I never said anything because, well let's be honest, you would've sent me to a crazy house. Then we moved but this place sits on a Hellmouth. Literally. Underneath this town is Hell and all sorts of monsters have been coming out of the woodwork. You wouldn't believe what I've been dealing with. I've had to kill everything from vampires to bugs! And please let's not talk about the bugs cuz that was just icky." She tried to end it with a laugh that came out much drier than she had intended. Her mother continued to stare at her for a moment before sighing in exasperation. With quick movements her mother had her hand placed against her daughters head, checking her temperature, studying her eyes. Realization hit and Buffy backed away, snarling.

"Damn it mom I'm not on drugs!"

"Well what do you expect me to think Buffy? Vampires? Really? I don't know what's going on but I will not be lied to! Just be honest with me!"

Part of her wanted to curl in on itself. She hated when she argued with her mom, it always made her feel like a petulant little child. It didn't help that she had a whole life's worth of memories in which her mother had died. A life of pain and regret. Her mother had continued yelling at her at some point but Buffy wasn't listening anymore. She knew what her normal reaction would be; to yell back, fling hurtful words, abandon her mother and her duty. That had been the road she had taken once and it would be so easy to follow that road again. Too easy.

The Buffy she had been before, the one whose memories she now possessed, was bitter. She was disillusioned and incapable of being happy. That Buffy wanted to do whatever her mother wanted anything to have a few precious memories. She lived on the scraps, whatever she could get.

It was strange, this moment. Her mother yelling, her friends ranged around her unsure of how to come to her defense, and she realized that she didn't have to choose the bitter Buffy or young Buffy. There was another option, a better one. An option she had never considered before.

"Mom." Her voice was calmer than she had ever managed her tone absolutely flat. Her mother abruptly cut off tirade, head tilting with the tiniest smidgeon of curiosity. Buffy smiled gently as she reached for her mother, hugging her tightly. Her mother hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace. After a few moments Buffy pulled away, lacing one hand with her mothers.

"I know it's hard for you to understand or accept. I get that. You're worried, scared, I mean I just turned 16...today!" She took a breath, squaring her shoulder and looking straight into her mother's eyes.

"It doesn't matter if you don't understand Mom but I need you to trust me. Believe in me, because no matter what you do this is my destiny and there's no running away from it or hiding from it. I can't throw it away and I can't give it away. I'm trapped." The word came out in a whisper. She'd never wanted this, never asked for it. Not this time or the time before.

Her mother sighed, not wanting to believe anything she was hearing but her daughter, her daughter was standing in front of her. Standing in front of her and asking her for the one thing she should never have to ask for: Trust. Faith.

"Oh Buffy of course I trust you baby but...Trapped baby? No. No there has to be something."

Buffy shook her head gently, "The only way to get rid of it is to die." Her mother looked suitably horrified, her eyes pooled with unshed tears. She clutched at Buffy, a vain effort to protect her from the world. Buffy allowed this for a moment before pulling away completely. Smiling she looked at her friends, one by one, before turning her gaze back to her mother.

"It's hard and it'll hurt, it'll be dangerous and I might die. I'm trapped in this destiny but, Mom, I don't fight alone. I've got things that no Slayer before me has ever had: I have friends to stand by me, to help me. I have a life full of challenges and adventure. I have a home to come back to and I have someone waiting for me, believing in me, accepting me as I am. I have you."

The tears had come unbidden to her eyes but she did nothing to stop them. This had hurt, bearing her soul, being calm. It wasn't in her nature. She was the fight or flight kind of person. She had never been one to express what she felt or even why. This was new territory for her but, she was beginning to think, and it was the best place for her to be. She didn't want to struggle between what had been and what she should be. The idea to simply be who she wants despite what others said was liberating.

"But." Her voice had taken on a hard edge, "Understand that I won't try to be anyone I'm not. I can't be the normal teenager for you mom and I can't be the perfect Slayer. I'm going to make mistakes and those mistakes might cost a lot but I'm only human. I need all of you to accept that."

Her mother rushed her, wrapped her tight in her arms. Buffy relaxed against the warm embrace, not even caring that the button on her mothers pink blouse was digging into the bridge of her nose. She felt Giles' hand against her back and turned in her mother's arms.

"Mistakes will happen Buffy but I am confident that we can overcome them."

"Thank Giles." She answered gratefully.

Willows tentative voice rose through the air from somewhere to her left, "Yyyaa Buffy, I mean as long as we're together we can get through it. Right?"

"That's right Will. Besides we've got the Buffster training us hard. Pretty soon we'll be kicking demon ass like Slayers." Xander elbowed Willow in the side, gently, flashing a quick smirk.

"Remind me who it was that staked himself in the foot?" Jesse laughed out. Xander turned, glared.

"That was a spell, I'm telling you man. Amy was just pissed I didn't get her anything for her birthday!"

"Me?" Amy asked sweetly, "You did forget and it did heal. We're even."

Buffy and the rest laughed as Xander and Amy began bickering. Life was good.

Things had been going well the last two months. A peace, of sorts, had come over the town. Giles had, under Buffy's suggestion, had called in an old friend who, in turn, had begun teaching both Willow and Amy how to use their magic...And about consequence. This meant the girls could only attend two or three training sessions a week but they had all agreed, in light of the memories possessed from a future life, that controlling their magic was more important than they're ability to throw a punch.

Not to say the girls were weak. Oh no. Amy hadn't much liked hand to hand combat, but stick a sword in the girls hand and she was a beast. Swords had come to her like a duck to water. She couldn't beat Buffy but she was the only one that could consistently hurt the slayer. She had even managed to en-spell her favorite sword so that it would return to her if she lost it in battle. The spell wasn't very strong, it would only work if the sword was within a ten foot radius of her but it was a nifty trick.

Willow had been a bit more difficult. Her natural shyness making her almost incapable of wielding any sort of weapon without fumbling it. Buffy had thought, from past experience, that she would be just as horrible at hand-to-hand. She was glad she hadn't bet on that. Willow had an affinity for Goju-Ryu Karate and was swiftly learning the Kra style of fighting from her next door neighbor, a retired instructor from Florida who was part of the Israeli Krav Maga Association. As she had improved both physically and magically she had begun to break out of her shell. Confidant, strong but still the same sweet Willow that she had always been.

The boys had made their life goal defending the world. Giles had, blatantly and joyfully, lied to the council and requested more funds due to the fact that his Slayer just wasn't getting the right amount of training. They had balked at the number but in the end had agreed if only because Giles had gushed about how well she was at taking instruction (Which, of course, they took to mean she was the perfect little brainless soldier). The money, and the connections, had allowed him to bring in a total of five, five, martial arts instructors from around the world. Finding the instructors room and board hadn't been difficult but it was expensive. The five men had been promised that their stay would be free. As was their food, their travel expenses, and anything else they might need. They were there for only a short few months before responsibility called them back home.

Jesse trained exclusively with an old, silent, Filipino man in the art of Eskrima. Buffy had no idea what that was but when he had downed a Zherneboh demon (Tall, gangly, its hands bound in chains, its skin slick with slime that slowly paralyzed the body.) with nothing more than a stick she had been impressed.

Xander however took three instructors for himself. Kick-boxing was his favorite by far. He had a flair for mixing the Thailand Muy Thai and the Peruvian Vacon into the deceptive normalcy of his kick-boxing. He still landed on his ass more times then he could count but it was beginning to take at least two of his masters to do it. Giles took on the last instructor himself and Jenny, being the only two with the innate spirituality needed for the obscure Wing Chun. Buffy, on the other hand, took time with each of the instructors.

Within just a few months the group had gone from bumbling children to spirited and dedicated warriors. The change was gradual, their skills slow in growing when compared to the strength of their instructors, but it was noticeable. It was in how they moved, in their calm, in the tenseness of their shoulders as night came down, in the way they relaxed only with each other. Yet their personalities were the same as ever. They still smiled and laughed, still got annoyed and frustrated.

Things were good and Buffy couldn't help but wonder when the next nightmare would jump out of the darkness to get them.

Said darkness had come not two weeks later. Of course, at the time, Buffy had been cursing her brilliant plan to train her friends. The first time around Xander had been hungry, starved for her and strong. This time the damn Hyena spirit had more to work with; he had Xander's newfound skills and all the strength of a body that had been sculpted for battle. She was stronger, true, but that alone wouldn't have saved her this time. She had responded on instinct and only now, in the aftermath, did she see the wisdom in Giles demand that she train with all of their instructors. It meant that as a group they were unpredictable it also meant that alone, against them, she would survive.

Xander had apologized, again and again. She still refused to talk to him. She was pissed. Oh not that it was entirely at him, she was plenty mad at herself. She should have been paying attention to the time frame. Should have realized what was happening sooner, thankfully she'd figured it out in enough time to save Mr. Flutie. She felt bad for the little piglet though. Saving the principal meant that Xander was able to get the drop on her. After beating him to hell and back she'd dragged his sorry ass back to the zoo, along with the rest of the possessed teens that the others had captured. The rest had been short work. Things could have gone worse, much worse, if she hadn't figured things out in time. It didn't make her any less angry at herself.

It definitely didn't make her any less angry at Xander. Eventually she managed to confront him about the situation. The first time he had claimed no memory of his attempted rape, this time she'd describe it to him. The pain, the fear, the agonizing realization that her friend was trying to violate her. She wasn't cruel about it, wasn't cold, but she'd be damned if she let this crush of his, and his inability to consider his own inner darkness, destroy his life like it had before. She made herself absolutely, positively and completely clear. She told him her heart belonged to one man, and only one man. A man named Spike and that she could never love him, never want him, as anything more than a brother. She explained that the blame was not supernatural but wholly on him. The hyenas had provided a means but the thought was his, the idea, the impulse buried somewhere deep within his heart. The shame and disgust that enveloped him had made her flinch. She had forgiven him then and the two had talked well into the night. Their friendship mended.

He didn't understand. Couldn't understand.

What had happened to the innocent, vulnerable girl he had seen? The girl whose light had dragged him from the sewers and the gutters and the rats? She was, finally, within his reach and she was further than ever. When he patrolled with her she smiled and laughed, she chatted amicably and bound herself to him in friendship. He enjoyed it, loved her with every fiber of his being and hated every minute of it. She didn't deserve this life; she deserved a normal life and a normal family. It hurt to see her in danger, hurt to think of her vibrant light being brutally cut off one day. The idea that she could be taken from him, to a place he could never follow, was agony. He lived in perpetual fear of that day and yet she didn't seem to give a damn.

She had trained herself and, against his better judgment, trained her friends. She had created warriors to surround herself with, weaker warriors that she could defeat if they turned on her. Why couldn't she see the flaw in that? They were weaker, had to be weaker, so she could be safe from them along with every monster that came her way. She couldn't trust them. She could trust him. He was the only one who could keep up with her, the only one who wouldn't turn on her.

He'd been investigating his curse, in as much as he could without leaving Sunnydale. He'd been horrified to find that his soul was, indeed, unstable. The thought that Angelus could return made him uncomfortable, unsettled twitchy. He found no evidence that his soul would leave him if he was happy and knew that someone, probably Spike, had fed her that bit of nonsense.

Spike. That was another problem. He had imagined, once Spike was gone, that her crush on the younger vampire would wane but he saw no evidence of this. Instead it seemed her feelings for the peroxide vamp grew stronger. For weeks he'd been trying to charm her, to claim her but she sidestepped his every advance. She refused him, repeatedly, and claimed that she didn't love him or want him. That he was her friend and nothing more. She'd also said she had loved him once, that they had been together once. All he needed to do was prove to her they could be together without consequence. He had gone to her home, just to watch, and had heard her up in her room. A breathy sigh, a name slipping from her mouth with such tender love that it ached. Not his name, Spikes name. Spike's.

She didn't know how dangerous he was, refused to listen when he tried to warn her. He'd been considering this for awhile now but had hoped that he could break through her childish infatuation himself. Sighing he prepared himself for what he would have to do. It was for the best, really, she was still young. She'd thank him when she was older, when she knew how much he'd done for her.

valerie21601- A great thanks to one of my most loyal fans. I love reading your reviews and hope I don't disappoint.

Redglade- I have the same problem. I love redo Spuffy fics but it hurts to see either of them take to each other so quickly after all they've been through. Even if only one of them had the memories of the pain, insults and general degradation. And Spike? Please he's as stubborn as they come.

KittenOfDoomag- Spike and Dru ^_^ I have plans. Evil, horrible, "I'm a horrible human being' plans...

A great big THANK YOU to ginar369 who managed to get this chapter back to me in just a few hours. You are awesome!

Another Thanks for all you readers out there not too worry pretty soon this is gonna get good.