#series:the world doesn't end

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 5: Whelmed Characters: Angel, Charles Gunn, Cordelia Chase, David Nabbit, Faith Lehane, Fred Burkle, Rupert Giles, Spike, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Willow Rosenberg Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 4,029 A/N: Though I list a lot of characters, and some of them actually do get dialog, some of them just pass through.

Spike had never been very good at just sitting around and waiting out the day. It's what drove him to risk being turned all nice and crispy to spend time with people who may or may not prefer him less undead and more dead. It's also what had him waiting in a darkened alley as Angel's human, Fred, ran back after buying an almost terrifying number of tacos. She had been unwilling to venture out into LA alone –and who could blame her even if they didn't take into account her time spent in another dimension—and Spike had been bored enough with Willow off visiting Faith in jail to volunteer himself to accompany her.

Of course, it's not like there was anyone else around to go instead. The humans had all be shooed off and their boss vamp was snoring away in his hotel suite. He didn't even mind that she had chattered and prattled on the whole way to the street where her favorite taco place was – "I've done some in-depth studying and this place so far has the best meat to lettuce ratio." – and on the way back. Of course, it helped that she was willing to stop her Ode to Angel when he asked. Didn't even get worked up over the fact that he may have snapped at her over it.

They had just entered the basement of the Hyperion when he heard arguing upstairs. Holding up the hand that wasn't carrying her food to halt Fred's talking, he listened carefully. Rolling his eyes and dropping his hand, he sent her a rueful look.

"Apparently, they've noticed we flown the coop."

He couldn't help but smile back at her conspiratorial grin. He turned back toward the stairs and made his way to them, listening to the argument and trusting Fred would follow behind in near silence. He didn't bother to fight down the small smirk that came at the thought of what she would be like if some lucky vamp turned her. He made sure that they made as little noise as possible coming through the door to the basement, but Angel was still starting directly at them when they entered the lobby.

Failed Watcher, Jr. and the cheerleader had moved from yelling at Angel to yelling at each other as Gunn looked on. The three didn't notice his and Fred's entrance or even that Angel's attention wasn't on them. Spike took special pleasure in the guilt that flashed across his sire's face when his eyes dropped to the bag in his hand. Before he could give the bastard a proper smug look, his attention was caught by Gunn.

"Don't be dragging me into this nonsense. I'm just here for the tacos."

Finally, having had enough of the pointless bickering –seemed to happen a lot among white hats, if you asked him—he held up the take-out bag and gave it a shake and interrupted, "Then you're just in time, mate."

Gunn wasted no time in making his way over to them while Angel made what was, in Spike's opinion, a huge production out of apologizing for being asleep and unable to take Fred himself. She told him that Spike had taken good care of her and he got a kick out of the confused and slightly jealous look on Angel's face as he watched her make her way to the round sofa in the middle of the lobby.

Fred and Gunn dug into the tacos as Wes and Cordelia both took up positions behind the front desk and glared at him. In between bites, Fred began telling Angel about her day so far. Spike remembered it being a big boring but, to hear the girl talk, you'd think he'd been the most fascinating thing to walk through the door since she'd arrived. Although Angel was very obviously uncomfortable, he made his way over and sat beside her looking a lot like a kicked puppy. When Spike happened to glance over at Gunn, the other man looked to be fighting down a smile.

The two at the desk looked on in undisguised disapproval for the most part. Spike would almost believe that Angel was oblivious to the tension if it weren't the small glances he would shoot at them whenever Fred would say something particularly complimentary about Spike. When Wesley interrupted Fred in a pretentious tone, Angel had apparently reached his limit.

"Enough. You two, head home. If we get any clients, I have your numbers."

They were smart enough to clear out with very little grumbling. When Angel noticed Gunn staring at him, taco halfway to his mouth, he shook his head.

"Not you, you're fine where you are."

Looking around he gave a deep sigh. Spike was expecting some toned down and pathetic rant about team work or whatever it was souled vampires got huffy about, so he was notably surprised when all that Angel said was, "We should really look at setting up an eating area."

Later that evening Spike was holed up in the room Willow had slept in. As much as he detested the boredom that came with being cooped up alone in a room, he couldn't spend any more time with Angel without it ending up in an argument. Part of him definitely was itching to get in a knock-down, drag-out fight, but he had promised Willow he wouldn't. He was nearly to the point where he was willing to risk Willow throwing a hopefully temporary spell at him, though, when he heard the doors to courtyard open and then Willow's soft greeting to Fred and Angel.

In the blink of an eye he was standing beside her at the bottom of the steps, just within touching range. She looked tired but somehow far more relaxed than he'd seen her since Glory had got her nasty little hands on her girl.

"I take it Faith is on board with her early release?"

Part of Spike had to wonder if Willow had used magic on the slayer. When his girl was determined, he wouldn't put that kind of thing past her. However, he was smart enough to not voice that particular fear. He'd seen her verbally lash out at Tara once when she'd made that mistake. The way her face lit up at his question, however, told him she wasn't expecting any kind of judgment, so it was doubtful she'd used magic.

"Oh yeah, she's totally on board! Well, I mean, I kinda had to go all 'tough love' with her and say that she was being a big ol' scaredy-cat. That, of course, may have been followed up with big teary eyes and telling her we needed her, but I'll never admit to it, no matter how much you torture or bribe me."

Her grin was too wide not to return. Soon enough, her smile lost a bit of its brightness as she continued, "Of course, now I have to figure out what to switch her charges to or else the memory spell is going to cause a lot of problems."

At this, Angel spoke up from his place behind the front desk.

"Actually, Fred has that covered for you."

Spike was glad they had actually put in some time to offer up real assistance but a selfish part of him wished they had done so with him around so he could have been the one to take that burden from Willow. Still, it was good that it had gotten done.

From behind Angel, at the computer, Fred gently corrected him, "Actually, I don't really have that covered for you. I mean, I've done all the research and figured out the charges and what files need to be changed. Assault, third degree, causing physical injury with deadly weapon, dangerous instrument, or electronic defense weapon. I've got a whole story put together if you wanna hear it. I'm just really rusty with computers on account of my being gone for five years, and I've never really done much in the way of hacking into prison records."

Looking completely pleased in a very dopey and ridiculous way, if you asked Spike, Angel said, "See, Fred has that covered."

While the girl in question looked at Angel with a very confused expression, Willow was busy making her way toward the computer, babbling the whole way.

"I am totally hacker girl, I can get you into the prison records. And, when you're done, I can get us out without anyone being the wiser, no problem. Then I'll just head upstairs and work on the spell."

As the two scarily intelligent young women worked away at the computer, Angel came around the desk. He walked out toward the courtyard and motioned with his head for Spike to follow as he passed. Spike knew there was a good chance that he wouldn't be happy with whatever Angel wanted to talk about, but he couldn't really see a way out of it without upsetting Willow. By the time he made it outside, Angel was sitting on the edge of the silly and pointless water-feature… pool… thing. He'd been on his best behavior all day, so he couldn't really resist poking at Angel a bit.

"I know what you're going to say, Angelus, but you've hurt me too much. It's possible that you may have changed, but I've made a good life for myself and I'm just not willing to come back to you anymore."

Angel didn't look amused, but he didn't look upset either. After a pause he asked, "Are you done?"

With a huff, Spike collapsed down beside where Angel was sitting and vented in a way that, if pressed, even he would admit was a bit overly dramatic.

"I'm just out of practice. I can't really push buttons back in Sunnyhell. Everyone there is too raw and touchy. One button and they'd blow up and Willow would be stressed out even more. Next thing you know, Xander and I are two slimy toads and you know she's not gonna come close enough to turn us back!"

After a weighted silence, Angel asked, "But that should be all over now, right? With Faith going back with you, Willow shouldn't be under so much pressure."

Spike let out a less than amused snort, practically jumped to his feet, and then walked over to lean against the pillar and stare into the lobby where he knew Willow still was, even without being able to see her. Taking out his smokes, he lit one up before he responded in a much calmer voice than he had been using. To be honest, he was almost grateful to share his concern.

"That's just it, innit? It's not all over. When we get back, Red's gotta find a place for the slayer to live. Unless she takes to sleeping in crypts or squatting in an abandoned building, that's gonna take money." Spike took a drag off his cigarette and shot Angel a look from the corner of his eye before focusing his gaze forward again. "I've got some things lined up that could bring in a few quid here and there, but Willow would want to know where it's coming from. She probably be none too pleased with the answer."

Angel seemed to be thinking hard as he stared down at the ground between his shoes. Or maybe the old man had fallen asleep, sometimes it was hard to tell. Before Spike could throw and insult at him to see if he was paying attention, Angel stood up. He walked by where Spike was standing and paused to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't really have the money to help out myself, but I have a friend that might be able to do something. I'll give him a call and talk to him."

Spike was spared the awkwardness of having to find a way to thank Angel without having to actually say the words by Willow's sudden appearance at the doors.

"Hey, Spike, if you two are done with whatever bonding you're doing, you think you can give me a hand with this spell?"

Knowing that Willow might be uncomfortable with his discussing her financial worries with Angel, Spike decided not to tell her that there was a possible solution just yet.

"Nah, pet, we're good. I just had to break it to Angelkins that I wasn't going to be getting back with him no matter how much he begged."

He counted Willow's small laugh as a victory and quickly made to follow her as she went back inside and started up the stairs. He had just made it to the door when Angel's voice stopped him.

"We both know you'd come crawling back to me if I said the word."

Make no mistake, he was happy Angel was going to try and help Willow out. However, he still wouldn't let him have the last word. He turned to fully face Angel and gave him a slow once over, tongue curled up behind his teeth. With a shake of his head, he said, "Not even in a dream, mate."

In the early hours of the morning —three in the morning to be exact— Gunn drove Willow back to the prison. Spike had attempted to convince her to get a few hours' sleep first, but there was no reasoning with her. She was far too energized by the idea of having a slayer back with them. And so, after receiving a promise from Gunn that he would keep Willow safe, Spike crawled into the bed that she had barely slept in. And, if he took the time to breathe in her scent before falling asleep, no one could prove it happened.

It felt like it had only been a few minutes when he woke up to the feeling of someone staring at him. He quickly recognized Fred's scent, though he could swear her heartbeat was quieter than most. She was practically tailor made to be a vampire. Without opening his eyes, he said, "You know pet, a man wakes up to a pretty girl in his room staring at him, he's bound to get ideas."

Instead of being startled or embarrassed, Fred seemed to take his comment as an invitation to invade his personal space. His eyes shot open when he felt the bed dip beneath her weight. She was perched on her knees, waving a wad of cash at him with a huge grin on her face.

"I went ahead and asked Angel for some money and I was thinkin', since you're up and all, you could go with me so I could pick up some more tacos. Different place this time. The meat to lettuce ratio isn't nearly as good, but they have some things there I haven't tried before. I'd wake up Angel, but he gets cranky if you get him up too early."

Spike really couldn't find it in him to be angry she was interrupting his sleep. After all, she was a sweet little thing and still getting over being in a hell dimension. Besides, he really did love the sour look on his sire's face every time she went on and on about how nice he was to her.

"Since I'm up, might as well take a pretty girl out. Though, you might want to step out of the room for just a tick." At her questioning expression, he sent a meaningful glance over the bed spread covering him. "Didn't exactly bring my jammies with me."

Her eyes got huge and she quickly hopped off the bed and rushed to the door. Turning around, giggling and blushing, she said, "I'll be right outside when you're all done getting dressed!"

True to her word, Fred stood on the other side of the door when he opened it again. Her chattering began almost as soon as he got the door closed and didn't stop as they made their way down to the lobby. What did stop her was the sudden presence of Angel. Spike was sure that, if she knew about it, Willow would have something to say about the glee he took in the way Angel's face fell a bit when Fred told him that she was heading out with him. Fred, however, didn't seem to feel that particular joy along with him.

"Oh, but you can come with us. Right, Spike?"

No, it was not right. In fact, it was the very opposite of right. However, looking at Fred's hopeful face, he felt himself crumble.

"Sure, pet. Ol' Angelus can tag along with us."

Spike wasn't sure if she didn't notice the fact that he and Angel refused to talk to each other, or if she just chose to ignore it. Either way, she seemed content to fill the silence herself. When she left them both standing in the shadows of an alley, Spike decided to take over the talking.

"Eventually you're going to have to find something for her to do besides hide away in that death trap of a hotel."

Angel didn't bother to look at him when he bit out, "I'm aware of that."

Spike wasn't about to let it go, though, and continued on in a patronizing tone, "And if you're planning on keeping her, you're going to have to feed her better."

At this Angel did turn and look at him. Spike could tell he was on the edge of striking out and it felt comforting to be on familiar ground with him again.

"She's not a pet, Spike."

When Spike replied, his voice was calm and, though he would deny it, even understanding.

"She's not exactly a fully functioning adult right now, either. She's hiding away in her room and, from what I can tell, living off fast food. Until she's ready to take care of herself, you're going to have to do a better job looking out for her. Lord knows your other humans are doing an absolute rubbish job of it."

Whatever Angel was going to say was interrupted by the sound of Fred running across the street, bag of food in hand. When she caught sight of Angel and Spike, she stopped short.

"Y'all aren't fighting, are you?"

Angel quickly gave a smile and shook his head. "No, we're just catching up. Are we ready to head back?"

Once again, Fred was left to do all the talking as they made their way back. Spike did hear Angel on the phone later with Gunn arranging for the man to stop by for some money to go food shopping.

"Wait, you mean they have grocery stores that are open at night? Huh. So, uh, what exactly would you say the basics would be for someone like Fred?"

Of course, a few minutes later when Angel brought up going out and picking up food with her, he didn't bother to say where he'd gotten the idea. Wanker. At least the poor girl would get some decent food, so Spike supposed it didn't matter. He was turning into a right bleedin' heart. Thankfully Angel didn't seem to notice it. Mostly because he seemed to be enraptured by Fred's rhapsodizing over different foods she could pick up at the store after dark.

She had just wound down when a slightly frumpy man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties came in through the front door. By the way Angel jumped up to greet him, he was apparently not a stranger.

"David! I didn't expect you to show up tonight. Is there something wrong?"

Although David didn't look uneasy, he did fumble a bit as he answered, "No, uh, nothing, there's nothing wrong. I just… Is she still here?"

Spike had just begun to wonder if he had a thing for the cheerleader when Willow walked in the through the back door with Faith not far behind her. Spike's eyebrows raised when Angel said, "Here she is now, actually."

Spike could only sit back in confusion as the new guy seemed to fawn over Willow's brain and gush about how someone he knew had talked on and on about how they had tried to recruit her in high school or some such nonsense. What it seemed to amount to was an apparent job offer that they closed themselves off in the office to talk about. When he looked at Angel, he seemed just as lost. Apparently, whatever David had been called to do, it wasn't to make a job offer.

He may not have been able to barge in on the spontaneous meeting, but that didn't stop him from listening in. He didn't notice he was tensed up until he felt himself relax when he realized that, even with this job she seemed ready to accept, she would still be living in Sunnydale. When she came out of the office and said her goodbyes to David she seemed a bit dazed. After a few minutes of silence, her eyes got wide and her gaze excitedly bounced between him and Faith.

"We're going to have to look for a house as soon as we get back to Sunnydale! We don't have to wait to save up money or anything."

She quickly went from joy to horror and continued, "I'm gonna have to quit college now. How am I gonna tell Tara?"

For the next few hours, until it was dark out, Willow paced back and forth in the lobby going over the pros and cons of her new job and having random bouts of panic over having to tell both Tara and her parents. At some point Gunn had arrived, though she paid him no mind. She only stopped her monologue disguised as a conversation when Fred said it was time to go grocery shopping. Apparently, even company starved geniuses recently escaped from a hell dimension had their limits.

The next morning found Willow with her newly signed contract in her bag, Faith in the passenger's seat beside her, and Spike tucked away in the backseat under a blanket —he had absolutely refused Angel's suggestion of riding in the trunk. She was still half convinced that David Nabbit hiring her had all been a very strange shared hallucination. The relief she got from no longer having to worry about how they were going to keep Faith housed and fed helped fuel her through the two-hour drive home. While Faith seemed to not really be paying attention to what she was saying, she did ask questions whenever there was a lull in Willow's babbling.

Faith managed to put on a good enough front to almost have Willow believing that she was unconcerned about her reception. However, it was hard to miss the look of relief on her face when they pulled into Willow's house and she found out she wouldn't be seeing anyone else until the next day. Willow had just shown Faith around the house and was just about to head out to check on Tara when there was a knock at the front door. She caught herself sharing a worried glance with Faith and Spike who had quickly joined her in the hallway.

"If they were going to attack, they wouldn't knock first. Right?"

When they both shrugged, she took a deep breath and stepped close to the door to look through the peephole. She gave a relieved huff of laughter when she saw Giles on the other side. She quickly opened the door and invited him in. He gave a nod of greeting to both her and Spike, but then turned a serious look on Faith.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't give you more time to settle in, Faith. However, we seem to have a bank robbing demon on our hands."

Looking a bit relieved —Willow couldn't help but think she would rather face demons than any emotional confrontations— Faith headed back into the living room and picked up the jacket she'd just recently laid across the back of the couch. She quickly shrugged it on, pulled her hair out from the collar and shot Willow a quick smirk.

"No rest for the wicked, Red."

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 4: Twenty-Five to Life Characters: Angel, Anya Jenkins, Charles Gunn, Cordelia Chase, Faith Lehane, Fred Burkle, Rupert Giles, Spike, Tara Maclay, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 4,178 A/N: Though I list a lot of characters, and some of them actually do get dialog, some of them just pass through.

Read Elsewhere: Personal Archive \ LiveJournal \ InsaneJournal \ Dreamwidth \ AO3 \ FF.net

"I just want to make sure we're all on the same page here. The one with the insane writing that tells us bringing a convicted murderer back into town is a good idea."

As much as she loved Xander, he really did not know when to quit. Giles, unlike most times, was doing nothing to dissuade his ranting. Willow listened with only half her attention as Tara explained –for the third time that night alone—why they needed to bring Faith back to Sunnydale. The rest of her attention was focused on the bag she was packing. Granted, she wouldn't need much in the way of clothes since she was only planning on being gone for a few days at most. The rest of her bag was full of various spell ingredients she might need.

When Anya had protested taking the items, Willow had tried to explain that she might not be able to find them in Los Angeles. That hadn't worked either, but before Willow could even draw a breath to argue even more, Spike had thrown down a wad of cash on the counter which put a smile on Anya's face and silenced her. Willow didn't even bother to ask where he'd gotten the money –she probably wouldn't like the answer—and only sent him a silent thank you.

As she zipped up her bag, she could hear Xander's condescending reply, "Perhaps you missed the part where she killed a man and is now in prison."

She could see Tara ready to once again explain something that should have been unnecessary to explain in the first place while Giles continued to stand silently by, staring at the floor. Something in her just snapped. She barely recognized her own voice.

"Enough. Buffy is gone. Bringing her back would be too cruel. We need a slayer for the Hellmouth. The spell I put on the town yesterday will only hold for a little bit. After that it would have to be redone."

When Xander made to argue some more, Willow interrupted, already knowing what he would say, "The spell may keep demons peaceful, but it would only take someone vaguely interested in magic to find out what the spell is and they could break it. We need the Slayer. We need Faith."

He stared at her mulishly, so Willow tried softening her tone, "I understand why you wouldn't want to be around her, Xander. I get that it can be hard being around someone who tried to kill you…"

Xander didn't look mollified at all when he said, "Maybe you forgot, but she tried to kill you, too."

Willow had managed to downplay any danger that Faith would pose to her from Tara until now. By the nasty expression Xander wasn't trying to hide from her, he realized it and was all too happy to change that.

"Honey, are you sure you should be going to get her? I mean, if she's tried to kill you before…"

Willow faced Tara with her best reassuring smile. "Faith turned herself in. She's not the same girl who accidentally killed a man." The last was said with a pointed look at Xander who looked unrepentant.

"Besides, Red won't be going alone."

Willow glanced at the door to her room where Spike stood, a small bag of his own at his feet. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or upset that he had joined in the conversation. Tara's expression said she was more than sure she didn't like the situation.

"If Faith really isn't a threat, maybe I should go with you."

As much as Willow would love to spend time with Tara –they really hadn't had a lot of quality time lately—this just wasn't the right time for it.

"I'm not sure we'll get back before the spell needs redone. If we can't, I need you and Giles here to cast it. Besides, Spike isn't going because of Faith. There are demons in LA"

Tara –and Xander—had nothing to say to that, and followed her and Spike to the front door. As she stepped off the porch, Willow turned back to face her girlfriend.

"While we're in LA, you should start packing up your stuff."

While Tara seemed to know exactly what was going on, Xander seemed lost. With a sad smile, she explained, "With Buffybot gone, we're going to have to report Buffy missing. After a while, her dad is going to probably want to sell the house."

She could see the same grief on Xander's face that she had experienced when she had realized that Buffy's home wasn't really Buffy's home now. Perhaps sensing that she didn't want to talk about it anymore, Giles chose then to walk up to her and wrap her in a warm and much-needed hug.

His voice was soft and understanding when he whispered, "Take care of yourself, Willow."

Without saying anything more, she turned and walked to the curb where Spike was waiting by her by her parent's car. He held his hands out for the keys, but she shook her head, causing him to roll his eyes and make his way to the passenger seat. Her parents may have left the car for her use while they were out of town, but she was sure they wouldn't want her driving to LA with it. No need to add the offense of letting someone they didn't know behind the wheel as well.

Willow made it a point to pay close attention to her driving until the house on Revello Drive was out of sight so she had an excuse not to see Tara staring after her. More and more, she was getting the feeling that her girlfriend was not happy with their situation. She just didn't know how to fix it. And, so, she was being avoidy girl.

Spike, for his part, was more than ready to let the ride go by in silence. Though he would kill for a smoke. It's not that he was afraid of seeing Angel, he just really wasn't too keen on the notion that the gelled wonder would find out about his little electronic leash. Theoretically, he could have stayed in Sunnydale –Willow was damn well capable of taking care of herself— but he just couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend some time with just the two of them.

Unfortunately, he had already agreed to go before he dawned on him that their time alone would be spent with Angel and his hapless band of do-gooders. He held his peace for the whole two-hour drive, right up until they pulled in behind the hotel where his absentee grandsire was making his home.

"Angelus always did have a taste for the dramatically gothic. Right then, Red, here's the plan… we roll in, throw a jab or two at Angelkins, then nab the slayer. No need to go bringing up my pesky little chip."

Willow just looked at him for a moment in obvious confusion before he could see understanding slowly come to her. Shaking her head, she tried to reassure him.

"I'm sure Angel's friends wouldn't…" She quickly lost steam as his eyebrow raised. As she looked toward the hotel, he could see the moment when she gave up. Her shoulders dropped along with her expression and she gave a resigned sigh.

"Maybe we should just avoid talking about all things Initiative and their experiments."

When he only hummed in agreement, she nodded her head and climbed out of the car. Knowing he didn't really have a choice since he'd foolishly agreed to come, he climbed out after her. For Willow's sake, he really hoped Angel didn't make things difficult. Though, he would love to see her put the old man in his place.

While he was aware that Willow knew exactly where she was going –she'd been there before after all – she still looked nervous and unsure. However, just before they got to the doors where any of Angel's little merry band could see them, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. He could still hear her slightly elevated heart rate, but she could probably fool someone who wasn't paying attention. Maybe.

When they walked into the lobby – leave it to Angelus to decide he needed an entire hotel to live in – the four people at the front desk off to the right didn't notice them at first. While he only knew three of them through Willow's detailed babblings from the other night, he easily recognized the cheerleader and couldn't resist the urge to rattle her a bit.

"Cordelia! Still as smashing as ever."

Cordelia looked tense but not ready to go for a weapon, so he could only assume that she at least knew he had been working with the Sunnydale chapter of the white hat brigade. The other three only looked mildly curious. Honestly, how people with such shoddy instincts managed to not only survive but also slay a few demons was beyond him.

"Spike, still trying to bring back the Billy Idol look, I see."

He could see Wesley's panic clearly written in the man's eyes and he looked on the verge of scrambling for a weapon when he heard Spike's name. Gunn, though he tensed up, looked far more calm and ready for a fight if it should come to that. Angel at least had one good fighter on his team. Fred looked relaxed though extremely curious. It could be she had never heard of him or those years in the demon world that Willow had told him about made a vampire seem like a small threat.

While he was assessing her crew, Cordelia seemed to finally notice that Willow was standing there with him.

"Willow. Oh, no, who died this time? Is it Xander?"

He could hear Willow's heartbeat beat just a bit faster as she hurried to reassure Cordelia, "No, no. No one's dead."

Spike tuned out Willow's explanation and focused on Angel who had come out of what looked to be the hotel's office. Angel, in turn, was focused on him. There was a strong urge in him to simply attack the vampire he'd both hated and… liked on and off for nearly as long as he could remember. However, he'd made a promise to Will, and he was going to stick by it. Angel's expression was unreadable which irritated Spike to no end.

Both vampires were broken from their silent staring contest by the sound of Cordelia's less than dulcet question.

"Why the hell would you want to get her out of prison? What kind of brain damage do you have that makes getting Psycho Slayer out of jail sound like a good idea?"

Her little tirade seemed to help the baby watcher grow a spine and he pipped in with a condescending, "We simply cannot allow you…"

There was a sense of dread that started to well up in the pit of Spike's stomach and he took a step closer to Willow, ready to try and calm her down if necessary. Her voice was cold and hard when she answered and it didn't put him the slightest bit at ease.

"We didn't come here to ask permission, Wesley. We were simply paying you the courtesy of letting you know that Faith would no longer be in jail. Now, if we're through here, I need to find a place to stay so I can get some rest before I talk to Faith tomorrow."

Before she could turn to leave, however, Angel tried to salvage the situation. His voice was soft and in no way confrontational. If Spike didn't hate the bastard so much, he'd almost be grateful. Dealing with a cranky Willow was not how he wanted to spend his night.

"Just, hold on a minute, Willow. We're all just in a bit of a shock. How bad is it?"

Like she so often did when no longer feeling attacked, Willow reverted to her sweet and accommodating self. Though, she didn't bother to sugar-coat what had happened.

"Hellions attacked the other night. They had us all cornered. We lost the Buffybot and we almost lost everyone."

Angel, of course, latched onto the one part of Willow's explanation that Spike didn't want him to. His brow furrowed and Spike could see the question before he asked it, so he interrupted, hoping to quickly move past it.

"Three geeks, good with electronics, long and boring story."

Nodding his head, Angel let it go and turned his attention back to Willow.

"There's no reason you have to go somewhere else for the night. We've got over sixty rooms here, we can spare a couple."

He could barely tell what Wesley and Cordelia were trying to say as they spoke over each other. He could only tell they didn't like the idea of him staying there.

Angel's voice was brooked no arguments when he said, "Cordy, Wes, Gunn, you guys go ahead and take off for the night. Maybe take tomorrow off as well."

While both Cordelia and Wes stalked off the way he and Will had come in, they still gave him wide berth. He had to admit, it did his ego good. It had been a while since any humans he encountered were afraid of him. Gunn held back, giving Angel a serious look.

"You sure about this, Angel."

When Angel simply nodded, Gunn turned and left the same way his friends had, though he didn't go out of his way to go around Spike and even tipped his head to Willow, giving a little wave. Honestly, he could start to like the bloke.

When it was just the four of them left, Angel gave some ridiculously cheesy smile and told Willow she could pick any room she wanted. Spike was only half listening as he prattled on about making sure it had a bed and wasn't falling apart. He rolled his eyes and followed Willow when she turned back and headed up one of the sets of stairs by the door they entered. Before he could set foot on the first step, however, he felt his arm grabbed.

The better part of a year living with a chip in his head had trained Spike to not randomly strike out before knowing who he was he was attacking. Instead, he turned and found Angel, though the older vampire was watching Willow continue up the stairs with a serious look. Before he could ask what the bloody wanker wanted, he heard Willow's asking, "You're not planning on starting a fight with him, are you?"

He recognized that tone in her voice. It was the same one she used when she had lost all patience with Xander's picking and Anya's whining. Apparently, Angel was smart enough to know that tone wasn't one to be messed with.

"No fighting, Willow. Promise."

When Willow was out of sight, instead of the fight he expected –he didn't put any weight in his sire's promises – Angel only asked, "How bad is it?"

Spike didn't bother to hide his disbelieving huff when he answered, "Bloody Hellions showed up. Did you miss that conversation, Peaches?"

Angel didn't rise to his bait, only said, "No. I mean, how bad is it with Willow?"

As much as Spike wanted to tell him to fuck off and that they didn't need him to come riding into save the day or any such nonsense… he was tired. He was damn well tired of being the only one who saw how close Willow was to cracking.

"I caught them about to go against any sort of natural order and bring Buffy back from the dead. I managed to convince Willow to at least check that the Slayer was in some sort of Hell and that they wouldn't be yanking her out of paradise or some nonsense.

"She's drowning, Angel, and she's desperate for any sort of lifeline. Her useless friends and dishrag of a girlfriend keep expecting her to have all the answers and barely even raise an eyebrow at all the red flags she's sending up."

Angel looked troubled. Or maybe hungry. It really was hard to tell with this souled version of the vampire he knew. Either way, seemed to reach some sort of decision, if the firmly nodded head was any indication.

"If Faith turns her down tomorrow, I'll have a talk with her. Maybe she'll listen to me."

Angel opened his mouth to say something probably pathetic and sappy by Spike's estimation. However, he was interrupted by a soft and solemn voice.

"It's a good thing she has you to look after her. It's hard enough to try and lead a normal life, I mean if she's still going to college and all like she said the last time she was here. If you add on fighting off demons, and vampires, and whatever Hellions are, I can't imagine anyone being able to handle that all on their own. And the way you tell it, the rest of her friends aren't really the best at supporting her either."

Spike could only stare at her wide-eyed for a beat or two. It was more than possible she could give Willow a run for her money in the babble department. Though, unlike his witch, she was apparently as silent as any vampire when she wanted to be. Perhaps it was too much time spent with white hats, but he couldn't bring himself to snip at her, instead just replying, "I try my best, pet."

When he turned a questioning look on Angel, he only gave a small smile and said, "She's Fred. She does that."

Not bothering to wish them goodnight, he walked up the stairs and followed Willow's scent. He was stopped in his tracks halfway down the hall however, when he heard Fred ask Angel, "So how long has your friend been in love with Willow?"

He didn't bother to stick around to hear whatever Angel would say after he got past his shocked stuttering. He heard Willow moving around behind one of the doors as he came upon it. He knew that she'd want to go over tomorrow's plan just one more time. Part of him hesitated out of some irrational fear that she'd take one look at him and somehow be aware of what Angel's newest little pet had said. Bollocks. If she hadn't bloody well figured it already, she wasn't going to do so now. Making up his mind, he knocked on her door.

Willow was grateful that Spike was there to listen to her go over her plan for the millionth time without complaint. Granted, it's possible he tuned out whatever she was saying, but he made it so she could think out loud and not have anyone look at her strange. People really overlooked how important that could be. In the pre-dawn hours, as she made the roughly five-hour drive to the prison in Stockton, she found herself wishing Spike was there with her so she could go over the plan at least one more time.

Not that she was nervous.

She kept telling herself that as she parked in the visitor's lot at the prison. She almost believed it by the time she had convinced the staff there that, not only was she Faith's lawyer, but that she actually had an appointment to see her. Willow was sure that Tara wouldn't approve of the bit of magic she used to do so, nor would she approve of her plan to use magic to alter people's memories to get Faith released.

Honestly, though, it was either that or a jail-break with Faith hiding out as a wanted fugitive. That wouldn't really work for their plans seeing as Sunnydale would probably be one of the places they'd look for a runaway Faith. If Tara asked, she would calming explain. Willow was sure her girlfriend would eventually see that it was necessary.

As she saw Faith walking toward her through the prison bars, she suddenly realized that, in all her planning, she had never actually come up with a conversation. She looked confused but not angry, which Willow took as a good sign. She picked up the phone on her side as the slayer sat down across from her on the other side of the glass. Once she had picked up the phone, Faith didn't bother with small talk.

"They told me my lawyer was here to see me. I don't remember hiring you."

Her voice, while still a bit husky and sarcastic, lacked the anger that Willowed remembered from their last encounter. Well, the last encounter when it had been Faith in her own body. Oh, and look, there she was just staring through the glass, waiting for Willow to say something.

"Well, uh, Faith…"

Apparently, her time in prison had not given her infinite patience. Looking for all the world like this was a conversation she didn't want to have, she interrupted, "Look, Red, if this is about Buffy, you're about five months too late. Angel already filled me in."

While Faith may have been wrong about why Willow was there, it still provided just the opening she needed.

Keeping her voice relatively quiet, she began, "No, actually, this isn't about Buffy. It's about Sunnydale. Without a slayer, the demons are getting out of control. We need a slayer, Faith. We need you."

Looking less than moved, Faith leaned back in her chair and shot back, "Well, I'm about one year in, so why don't you check back with me in twenty-four years. A little less if I'm a really good girl."

As she had been doing a lot recently, Willow lost her calm. There went her Zen right out the window. It also might have been the more than likely bullet or shatter proof glass between them giving her a bit of courage.

"You know, Faith, coming in here I knew you were a lot of things. A probable boyfriend stealer, a best friend stealer, and a murderer. I just figured you'd gotten past that whole 'running with your tail between your legs' phase after Kakistos. Guess I was wrong."

Suddenly Willow could see a bit of the old anger in Faith. Maybe that's what they really needed. At least, she hoped that's what they needed and not just a sign that she'd chosen the wrong tact.

"You wanna run that by me again, Willow?"

Since she had already started, Willow couldn't really find it in her to even want to stop. She might have a bit of resentment still built up from when Faith had tried to kill her that one time. Two, if you count graduation.

"I was more than happy to let you sit in your little cell and hide away while you did what you needed to pay for your sins or whatever. But you're the slayer, and now you're the only slayer. Me and you don't have the luxury of you sitting pretty while the world burns."

Fight back tears and struggling to keep her voice lowered, Willow leaned in and continued, "Hellions rode into town, Faith. They had all my friends chained up and we were all going to die. It's a miracle I managed to throw enough magic to get them to run. I don't know what's gonna happen the next time. Just… We need you, Faith."

Faith looked very uncomfortable as she looked everywhere but at Willow. Finally, eyeing up the glass between them, she asked, "So, what's the plan then? I just bust through here and we take a dive through the window and make a run for it?"

Willow could feel her eyes go wide and she held up her hands almost as if that could prevent Faith from doing just what she'd said.

"N-no, no! Tonight, I'll do a little work on the computer and a little spell, and tomorrow we'll come to pick you up. You can walk out of here free and clear because, as far as anyone will know, tomorrow will be your release day for a far lesser charge."

She could actually see Faith physically relax before she said, "Cool, 'cause I wasn't looking forward to going full on fugitive."

Willow could see her mentally struggling with something before she leaned in closer and looked Willow in the eyes.

"You doin' okay, Will? Like, really."

It was on the tip of her tongue to give the standard 'right as rain' type of answer, or maybe even shoot Faith's own 'five by five' at her. What came out, however, was the truth. And possibly a few tears.

"Not really, no. I think I'll get there, but right now it's hard."

Faith appeared as emotionally drained from their visit as she was, so Willow told her she'd be back to get her tomorrow and quietly said goodbye. She could only hope she'd been telling the truth when she'd said that she'd get there because, right about now, she would really love to be doing okay again.

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 2: The Deals We Make, pt 1 Characters: Anya Jenkins, Buffybot, Rupert Giles, Spike, Tara Mcclay, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 3,895 A/N: Though there is more than the usual POV switching, hopefully I won't have to do this very often.

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The cemetery was filled with the sounds of running footsteps and heavy panting. They seemed to do more running and panting than slaying these days, that was for damn sure. While Spike was all for everyone doing their part, he was getting tired of constantly being slowed down by the people that were supposed to be helping him. They were well-meaning and all, but it was better when he was alone, or when it was just Willow with him. Well, it wasn't so bad when the watcher tagged along, but Willow's little girlfriend just had to go.

Granted, his dislike of her possibly had to do with more than just her inability to fight, but it was still true. It was like patrolling with a less capable, less determined version of the Willow he had first met. If he was inclined to be brutally honest, it mostly had to do with the fact that she was Willow's girlfriend and tended to get a bit clingy whenever he was around. Not that Red had ever given her cause to get that way. He on the other hand? It's possible he did once or twice just to stir up trouble when he was bored. And if there was another reason, he wouldn't admit that, even in his own mind. After all, a bloke never knew when Willow might pop in his head for a conversation.

For her part, Tara really didn't care for the slaying. She only did it to be with Willow; it seemed like the only way she could spend time with her these days. Either Willow was out patrolling with Spike or she was fixing the Buffybot. Tara tried hard to be understanding – after all, Willow only did this to make sure they were safe – but she just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. She knew she got in the way some of the time and, yeah, her spells were nowhere near the level of Willow's, but she didn't think that Spike should look at her like she was always a nuisance.

She also didn't think Spike should act like she was the third wheel when he intruded on her time with Willow. While she knew that Willow didn't think of Spike that way, part of her couldn't help but worry that her girlfriend would realize one day that Tara just wasn't what she wanted. She tried to keep that feeling hidden, but Willow seemed to pick up on it anyway and tried to reassure her. However, her reassurances always seemed to stop short of cutting the amount time she spent with Spike. Not that it worried Tara. Not in the least. And maybe, if she repeated that enough, she would start to believe it.

Giles seemed to remember that, once upon a time, patrolling with a rag-tag crew of amateurs had worked, and worked well. Had his memory gone rosy and soft in the wake of his slayer's death? Because now… now it didn't work at all. Oh, he could hardly complain about Willow and Spike; they both possessed and used important skills and weren't exactly bad hands at slaying. It was the others – Xander, Anya, and especially Tara – whose presence needed to be seriously rethought. Though he did not want to be the one to broach the topic with Willow. She was prickly and difficult in her grief. Perhaps he'd pay Spike to say something since, oddly enough, when she could be reasoned with it always seemed to be Spike who managed the trick.

Willow was focused on the here and now as she stood on top of the tallest crypt she had been able to find. She watched as Spike, Giles, and Tara chased down an overweight vampire. When she saw her three friends stop and rest she debated if she should let the vamp get away. The matter was settled, however, when the vampire they had been chasing circled back toward them. As much as she hated to interrupt Spike and Giles laughing together – a too rare occurrence these days – it was a matter of life and death.

"Guys, heads up. The vampire's circling back towards you, six o'clock. Try to drive him back towards the Van Elton crypt."

As he watched the vamp they were hunting running around as it did a half decent impersonation of a headless chicken, Spike found it all too easy to relate to the bastard. Bloody hell if he was about ready to give up for the night. It was so easy to get frustrated on the nights they all patrolled together, and tonight was no exception. It didn't help when he could hear the equally frustrated tone of Willow's voice in his head.

"Left, make him go left!"

Throwing his arms out to the side and looking in the direction he knew Willow was, he started to ask how exactly they're supposed to do that when an ax flew by his head. When he saw the blade sink into a tree and scare the fledgling vamp he turned an impressed look on Giles. Though the former watcher was still panting, he looked very determined to go on and get this over with. It reminded Spike why Giles was one of the only two humans he had any respect for right about now. That didn't change the fact that, when they caught up to where the vamp was fending off the Buffybot, the fight turned out like a bad Three Stooges skit.

Elsewhere in the cemetery, Xander hadn't fared much better, but for different reasons. He knew the reasoning behind having Willow talk in their heads, even agreed with it. It still gave him the wiggins, though. He knew he should just go along with it, but he couldn't just not be freaked out by it. Anya was the only one who didn't look at him like he was an idiot when he said something about it, and for that he was grateful. She was someone he could count on to understand why he sometimes started to act like an inexperienced, wet behind the ears newbie during patrol.

As for Anya, she only patrolled because Xander did, and she enjoyed being the one to get his little quirks. That and fewer vampires meant more people alive, which meant more people who could potentially shop at The Magic Shop and give her money. But mostly it was just to be with Xander.

As the vampire held Giles pinned to the fence with his own weapon, the biggest thing going through his head was that he was getting far too old for this. It didn't help that Spike appeared prepared to simply not help him. After hearing Spike give an answer of some sort – to Willow, he assumed – Giles felt the fledgling back away from him and saw him burst into flame, turning to dust a few short seconds later. When he looked up he saw Spike with a cigarette in one hand and the other held out to help him to his feet. What little of their customary arguing they managed was interrupted by Willow ordering her troops – them – off to another battle. Yes, definitely getting too old.

Buffybot was very content. She was doing what she was programmed to do. Pulling back her stake from the dust cloud that used to be a vampire, she grinned and executed the rest of the programming.

"That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!"

She wasn't sure why the others failed to find it amusing or why they questioned Willow about it. However, she did step in to defend her. After all, Willow was her best friend and the one who always fixed her when something went wrong. No one seemed to pay attention to her at first as they walked away, however Willow did give her an opening for a knock-knock joke. It got a bit difficult to follow when everyone decided to join in, but she wanted to help prove that Willow had done a good job fixing her programming, so she did her best to continue the joke.

"If we want her to be exactly she'll never be exactly I know the only really real Buffy is really Buffy and she's gone' who?"

Nobody answered, but that wasn't unusual.

The next morning Willow faced down the dark and more than slightly dusty area under her and Tara's bed. Normally she didn't spend much time staring at the potentially demonic dust bunnies that had taken up residence in her room, but she currently had no choice. One of her favorite lucky rings was missing.

Granted, there was no proof that the ring was lucky per se. However, if she concentrated on finding a missing ring, it helped calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach when she woke up and realized what day it was. Today was the day they were sending Buffybot out to look for a job. Looking for the ring kept Willow from once again contemplating how very wrong that seemed to her; therefore, the ring was lucky. Circular logic, yes, but it worked for her.

She almost asked Tara if she had seen the ring, but then decided against it. The past five months, everyone had started looking at her like every little thing that she couldn't find was potentially something that didn't really exist anymore. Everyone, that was, except Spike.

Willow pushed back to her feet with a sigh, turned around, and was faced with the door that led to what once had been Dawn's room. And, of course, when she saw that door it led her to think of Dawn, which then led her back to trying to figure out why Spike still remembered bits and pieces of the glowing ball of energy-turned girl-turned glowing ball of energy again. Yet another thing that the search for the (possibly) lucky ring helped her to not think about.

Fortunately, her train of thought was interrupted by Tara as she crossed between Willow and the door. As she joined her girlfriend on the way to the kitchen, Willow neatly tucked her troublesome thoughts away. Apparently not fast enough, if the look of concern on Tara's face was any indication.

"You doing okay?"

While Willow was, in general, feeling very far from okay, she knew that now was not the time and this was not the person she could vent all her frustrations to. So she gave a nervous chuckle and threw out a reasonable sounding excuse for her distraction. She didn't hate the promise of pancakes she got in return, that was for sure.

Walking into the kitchen she saw the Buffybot and greeted it as if her heart didn't break a little every time she saw it. Willow suggested that they go over the bot's programming as she began to fill up her breakfast plate. She felt a pang of irritation when Tara interrupted.

"Again? You've done enough, sweetie. She's either ready to face this thing or she's not."

The irritation came both from what Willow felt was Tara's casual disregard for her need to make sure everything worked out well and from the fact that her girlfriend insisted on referring to the bot as a she. Willow was aware of the hypocrisy of getting mad over such a small thing when she was constantly holding conversations with the bot as if it were not only a real girl, but as if it was really Buffy. However, some lines Willow felt should remain firm so that they could remember the bot was just a temporary place holder until they could get the real thing back. Referring to the bot as if it were real to each other was the line she chose.

About to go on as if she hadn't heard the interruption, Willow paused when she saw the stack of sandwiches in front of Buffybot. Turning to Tara to make sure she had the girl's attention, she then looked toward the stacks. Willow couldn't help but smile as Tara's eyes got big and her mouth dropped into a rounded ‘O' of surprise. There was also a part of her that was hoping for a sitcom moment of bubbling cuteness involving Tara wrestling away the sandwich makings from an eternally grinning Buffybot. Instead she was treated to a calm and in-charge handling of the situation as Tara both stopped the bot and explained what had happened.

"Oh! Oops. Um, she wanted to help, and I got her started, but then I forgot to un-start." The last word Tara said in a firm tone obviously meant to make it clear she was giving the bot a command.

A part of Willow wanted to smile at seeing her girlfriend trying to adapt to having the bot in their lives, while another part was irritated that she didn't leave the care of Buffybot up to Willow. She knew it was unfair; Tara was working so hard to be understanding when most people would have packed up and headed for the hills by now. Knowing that, however, didn't stop her from wanting to lash out. Soon, she thought, soon everything will be back to the way it's supposed to be.

As she was getting the tea bags from the cupboard, she heard the door open. When she turned, she saw Xander walk through the door, toolbox in hand and a contented smile on his face.

"House of chicks, relax. I am a man, and I have a tool."

Internally, Willow had to giggle. Really, how did he expect them to respond to that? They were saved from having to come up with something when Xander spotted the large pile of sandwiches the Buffybot had made. Digging into one, he explained that he had brought the soldering wire that Willow needed for the bot's tune-up. Before a comfortable silence could really descend, the phone rang and Buffybot's head shot up.

"I'll get it!"

The peppy voice really has got to go, Willow couldn't help but grumble to herself. As Tara blocked the bot's way, Willow picked up the phone. It was Anya on the other end and a mix of relief and anxiety ran through her. The anxiety mostly let up when the former demon told her that she had the urn they would need. Feeling very good, she didn't even hesitate to pass along Anya's cutesy terms of endearment for Xander and she found herself smiling at his response.

The feeling didn't fade as she listened as Tara explained to Buffybot why she shouldn't answer the phone. However, a pang of almost guilt ran through her as they talked of the upcoming ritual they would perform without really talking about it. It wasn't that they really tried to hide it from the bot, it was simply that they didn't want her to accidentally let slip to Spike what they were going to do. Willow firmly told herself that they just didn't want to get his hopes up. She was also pretending that she was not half afraid he'd not only try and talk them out of it, but that he would get mad they had gotten this far in the planning without telling him.

As she and Xander sat down to work on Buffybot's tune-up, Willow thought about bringing up her objections to having the bot get a job again. She decided against it since they had already had this argument a few too many times for her taste. She had to wonder if maybe she was holding back for another reason. Sending the bot out to get a job just made it seem like they had resigned themselves to living with this pale, man-made imitation of their best friend. It was like the others didn't think she would be able to get things back to the way they should be or like they didn't want things to go back to normal.

Still, since this was going to happen regardless of her opinion, she would be sitting in Buffy's car just a block down from the Doublemeat Palace listening in thanks to the transmitter she had installed in the bot just in case. Willow didn't bother to examine too closely why she felt the need to hide the existence of the transmitter and her, perhaps, overly-cautious spying from Tara and the others. It was just something she needed to do for her own peace of mind and she would prefer to avoid another argument. Especially when they should probably be a bit more grateful that she kept such a close eye on things in order to keep disaster at bay.

As Willow listened in on Buffybot's job interview Anya was in her shop – technically not her shop yet, but it soon would, or could, or might be – and so she should have been happy. It was her happy place, after all. However, there were feelings getting in the way of her happiness. Feelings she wasn't allowed to talk about because they made other people feel in ways they didn't want to or weren't ready to. Nothing was normal and nothing was settled so her happy place didn't make her feel very happy at all.

This sucked.

"Anya, this register report for January looks a bit off. Pull the files again."

She knew she should grit her teeth, smile politely, and do as she was asked. Xander had explained this to her many times. However, it was impossible to do when Giles was in what was (soon to be) her shop not acting as if it was (soon to be) no longer his shop. It was confusing and unbearable and she couldn't stop herself from trying to find out what was going on.

"Are you mad at me?"

The question came out of the blue for Giles and he couldn't even begin to fathom where Anya had gotten the idea that he was angry with her. Of course, he was even less able to understand how it devolved into a pathetic slap fight over a bloody Ramadan effigy of all things just a few moments later. His humiliation was complete, of course, when Xander Harris of all people had to be the one person in the room to retain some semblance of sanity and maturity. He was too old and too tired for this. However, he was not too tired, nor too old, to hear bits and pieces of Anya and Xander's conversation from just across the room.

He understood why Anya was so snippy and confrontational – could hear her explain it to Xander – but he had his doubts that Xander truly comprehended how much of Anya's problems were a result of simply not understanding the world around her. She might look like a normal young woman, but it had been thousands of years since she had been human and what she had seen of the mortal world didn't help her with the mundane task of knowing when to say what she felt and when to hold back. Part of him wanted to sit these children down – Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara– and explain to them that they were going to need to grow up and learn to understand the world beyond themselves. However, he wasn't sure he had yet mastered that feat himself.

He felt a sharp pain in his heart and felt his breath catch when he heard Anya say Buffy's name. He couldn't listen any longer, even to bits and pieces of this conversation, not with where it was going. He was still having a difficult time moving beyond his personal pain.

That night, as Spike looked on from a rooftop, Buffybot did an almost passable impression of an actual slayer. Well, right up until some vamp in an alley got in a lucky shot with a beer bottle. Unfortunately he didn't realize that something was wrong until the vamp was stuttering out that she was a machine and then the damn thing was walking into stacked barrels like some eight-bit Italian plumber.

By the time he'd made it down to the alley, the vamp had already got away while the bot was still knocking into those damn barrels and spouting off idiotic one-liners like a bad parody of a ditzy slayer. He just knew this was going to bite them in the ass somehow.

In Xander's apartment, as she sat staring at the last known Urn of Osiris, Willow knew she should feel more excited about having the urn and less annoyed at how Anya had gotten it. She wanted to blame it on Anya being annoying, but had to admit to herself it was just an extension of the growing feeling of doom she had. There should be no doom-y feelings of any kind. She had the spell memorized, knew they had the ingredients, and knew they had what it took to do this. She just had to bury her guilt, worry, anxiety, and any other doom-like feelings and soldier on.

"It's the one. Which means it's time."

She knew Xander would stall, would flail at the last minute; he wouldn't be Xander if he didn't. It wasn't that he was a coward – she liked to pretend to herself she thought this way all the time – it was just that he wasn't foolishly brave most times. But she couldn't let him stop this from happening. Buffy was in Hell and didn't deserve it, the Buffybot wouldn't fool people forever, and it was just too hard for her to hold them all together alone. She needed Buffy back because she wasn't cut out to be the leader, wasn't cut out to always be strong. They needed Buffy and Willow couldn't let anyone stop this from happening.

Spike tried not to let his frustration show as he made his way up the stairs toward Harris's apartment building, the Buffybot spewing fawning compliments after him. He remembered specifying that he wanted her to say those kinds of things but he couldn't for the unlife of him remember why in the bleeding hell he would. In his head, he knew that he had loved Buffy, but he couldn't feel it in his heart. Maybe her death broke something in him. On his darkest nights, he thought it had something to do with Dawn the Glowing Key being gone now had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, he tried not to take it out on the Buffybot, or on Red when she couldn't stop those glitches, or on Glinda for being… Glinda. He didn't always succeed, but he did try.

When he and the bot neared the door to Xander's apartment, Spike heard what sounded like an argument about to start. Reaching back, he put his hand over Buffybot's mouth to forestall any of the comments she would likely make and just waited. There was a time when he would have looked for the perfect moment to walk in and stir up tensions even more. Those days, however, were gone and now he was more likely to wait and figure out the best way to calm tempers. When he heard Xander mention raising the dead, he began to realize that it might just be his temper that would need calming. Willow's voice just confirmed it.

"It's time we stop talking. Tomorrow night… we're bringing Buffy back."

[lilbreck]

After Buffy died to save Dawn, she returned to what she was before the monks hid her with the Slayer. Now Willow and everyone else are left to pick up the pieces, but only Willow and Spike even remember Dawn existed.

Title: Hellmouth Chronicles 1/?: Losing the Light Beta: Eileen Characters: Anya Jenkins, Rupert Giles, Spike, Tara Mcclay, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris Rating/Warning: FRT / death Word Count: 1,463 A/N: A huge thank you to Eileen for beta'ing this for me. This is more of a prologue than an actual chapter. We're just setting up what's different to start off with. I hope you enjoy!

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She looked so peaceful.

That was the first thought each one of them had: Giles, Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara, even Spike.

The body of the one who held them all together, whose mission had been theirs, who had seemed eternal and invincible, lay before them broken and dead and somehow still beautiful for all of that.

She was gone.

It seemed impossible. She had faced so much and come out on top. How were they supposed to go on without her?

Xander stared, the weight of Anya in his arms not even registering. No amount of CPR was going to fix Buffy this time. He'd saved her once, but there would be no second chance.  He remembered the elation he'd felt when his breath had given her back her life that night so long ago when, in their youthful innocence, they'd thought The Master was the baddest of the bad guys. He wasn't even close.

This was just one more part of being human that reminded Anya of why she'd been so happy to become a Vengeance Demon. Staring at the corpse of a friend, a friend who'd just saved the world, a friend whose reward for all the slaying and fighting was becoming a broken body lying at the foot of a scaffold. It didn't make sense, but then when did anything about humanity make sense? Buffy would have done better to switch teams. At least then she might still be alive.

Giles was…there weren't any words; nothing in his Watcher's training had prepared him for this. Maybe it was because Buffy wasn't just his Slayer, she was his daughter. Not by blood, that was true, but it was no less a fact for all of that. They had fought together and with each other, they had laughed and cried and loved and lost and through it all there was one constant: their bond. The trust, the affection, the mission they shared and the devotion they both felt to their sacred duty. Now she was dead. No father should have to do this – bury a child. For the first time, he understood the Watchers Council and why they discouraged Watchers from bonding so closely with their Slayers. Because losing Buffy hurt more than he could bear.

Tara was confused about a lot of what had happened recently, but there was one thing she wasn't confused about: Buffy was dead. She knew that she should be far more upset about that, but the only thing she could really think about was Willow. Her girlfriend had found her when she'd been taken by something powerful and evil; now she had to help her. The world had lost Buffy: that much she understood, and it was a tragedy. But losing Willow? That would be worse.

Willow couldn't believe her eyes. She knew it was her fault. Buffy had counted on her; she was Buffy's big gun. But instead of focusing completely on the task at hand, she'd gotten distracted by… No, she thought as she glanced at the girl leaning against her, she couldn't regret rescuing Tara. But she still should have been more, done more, tried harder – something, anything.  The world needed Buffy. Dawn needed Buffy. Willow needed Buffy. Already, Willow missed her. Her mind was awash in memories of Ben & Jerry's and bad Indian TV. What was she going to do without her best friend?

Spike was numb. Just…numb. Buffy was dead. All sorts of powerful emotions and changes were roiling around within him, but somehow just out of reach, and he didn't understand a bit of what was happening.  There were tears and blood running down his face, but he barely registered them. It occurred to him that Buffy wasn't the first dead Slayer he'd ever seen, just the first one he was sorry about. He felt...numb, still. There were feelings that he somehow knew were supposed to be within him. Where were they and why had they gone?

The shock probably would have held them all day if Giles hadn't registered the smell of burning leather. Spike was smoldering, and it didn't look like he intended to move. It was hard to think past the pain, let alone move, but he realized that losing Spike would be one more tragedy in a day too full of anguish.

"Spike. Spike. You need to get out of the light."

Through her sobbing, Willow heard the grief-dulled urgency in Giles' voice. Looking over, she saw what had caught his attention. While she could understand Spike's urge to give up and let the sun take him, she didn't think she could handle one more death. Not after Buffy... no, not after Buffy. Shrugging off Tara's support, she limped over to where Spike was crumpled up, grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried to pull him up.

"Spike, we have to go."

When he didn't respond, just stared blankly at Buffy's corpse, she shook him a bit, her voice rising.

"Spike, you need to get up. The sun is coming, you can't stay here."

He said nothing and Willow was afraid. He must have truly loved Buffy, must not think it worth going on now that she was dead.  Part of her entertained the notion of staying with him and letting the flames that would consume him take her as well. Then she thought of Tara, Xander, and Dawn. They all needed her. Even Giles needed her in a way. It was selfish of her, but she didn't think she could let Spike have the peace that death would bring him. It might just break her, and if she didn't have the luxury of dying, she wasn't going to permit it to him.

"You need to get up now, Spike. I can't lose anyone else, not now. Please, just... for me, please get up."

Something in her voice seemed to do the trick, because he struggled to his feet and, both limping, they started to make their way to the nearest building. Burying the pain of Buffy's loss, Willow took charge. Someone had to. Looking around, she started barking orders as she saw people.

"Giles, I need you to find a car or truck, something with cover. We need to get back to... we need to get back to the house. Tara, I need you to help me get Spike inside. Xander... you've got Anya, good. Now, find Dawn and bring her inside, too."

She didn't notice the looks of confusion as she started to stumble away with Spike.

"Willow, wait," Xander called out as Willow pushed Spike into the building ahead of her just in time to keep the sun from incinerating him.

"What?"

Tara, Anya, Xander, and Giles – they were all confused. Sure they were grateful that Willow was taking charge, but right now she was making no sense and they were suddenly concerned that she was even more overwhelmed by the loss of Buffy than they were. 

They watched with no small amount of anxiety as she turned back to them at last. What was she going on about anyway – finding dawn? The sun was rising in the sky before their very eyes. Xander finally asked the question that was on the tip of every tongue.

"What are you talking about – find dawn?"

The others were glad he'd been the one to ask the question and not them as Willow's eyes grew wide as she stared. Giles wondered if the magic she'd used to save her lover might not have done something to her.

Willow, for her part, was simply confused.  What did Xander mean, 'what was she talking about?' And why was everyone looking at her as if she'd lost her mind?

"I'm talking about Dawn, Xander. You know, Buffy's sister, the Key. Who did you think I meant?"

The blank stares continued, so she turned to Spike, suddenly panicked and desperate. "Dawn! Little Bit! Where is she?"

"Buffy doesn't have a sister," Anya said. "At least, I don't think so. Did Buffy have a sister, Xander?"

No one else spoke, but their eyes soon filled with confusion and pity as they approached Willow at last. Something terrible had happened to her during the battle, they were sure of it, and she needed their help. Spike looked on with growing horror as he realized that, aside from Willow, the others had no idea who Dawn was. It was as if she never existed.

Willow wasn't sure what her friends were thinking, though she was quickly coming to the same conclusion as Spike. All she really knew was that Dawn was gone and no one remembered her - no one, that is, but she and Spike.

Buffy had died for nothing.

With that last realization, Willow fell to her knees and wailed.

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 3: The Deals We Make, pt 1 Characters: Anya Jenkins, Buffybot, Rupert Giles, Spike, Tara Mcclay, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 3,735 A/N: Though I list a lot of characters, and some of them actually do get dialog, some of them just pass through.

Read Elsewhere: Personal Archive \ LiveJournal \ InsaneJournal \ Dreamwidth \ AO3 \ FF.net

Shock raced through Spike. How long had they been planning this? He had thought they were growing close – or at least that he and Willow were. Apparently, he had been wrong. He expected to feel anger. All he could feel, though, was hurt and betrayed. Part of him wanted to turn around, leave, and pretend he had never overheard the conversation. However, the part of him that had watched Willow's back for these past few months came forward. Her friends weren't in the right place to make her stop and think, so he had to.

"No. Giles and Spike can't know. They might not understand." He could hear nothing but conviction and determination in her voice. He only hoped it was all a front and he could get her to slow down and rethink things, maybe get her to explain what was going on in her pretty little head.

He took a deep breath – quickly shook off the random flash of Willow's voice from a few nights after they had started patrolling together questioning why he bothered with the deep breathing – opened the door and stepped into the room just in time to hear Willow start to break.

"Her body, yeah. But her soul – her essence, I mean, that could be somewhere else. She could be trapped, in-in some sort of hell dimension like Angel was – suffering eternal torment just because she saved us, and I'm not gonna let... I'm not gonna leave her there. It's Buffy."

This was it. He needed to step in, calmly and rationally, before her tearful speech convinced her pals to go ahead with this insane idea. He had to. For Willow. After pulling the Buffybot into the room and pointing her to the couch, he leaned against the door jamb like he hadn't just overheard them planning something completely unnatural, dangerous, and foolish. He had to choose his words carefully.

"I'll grant you, she could be in a hell dimension. It happens sometimes," he was not too brainwashed by his time with the white hat brigade to go without a small smirk when Xander and Tara startled at the sound of his voice, but his gaze remained on Willow "and sometimes it doesn't."

When she didn't speak, didn't even turn to him, he skirted the kitchen table. He would have to take his time and be gentle; yelling or talking down to her would only get her dander up. He could do gentle; the question was if she would let him or not.

Spike circled around her until she had to either face him or deliberately turn away. Thankfully, she chose to remain as she was. He decided to go one step further and, placing his hands on either side of her head, raised her face until she was forced to look him in the eyes. He briefly closed his eyes and prayed he could find the right words. Now would be a convenient time to develop some decent poetic ability, not that he had much hope of that.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't worry that she's trapped somewhere suffering. You're a smart girl to worry. And I'm not saying you should pretend it's not possible. I just think you need to be sure that she's not somewhere better than here before you go trying to bring her back."

As he moved to rest his forehead against hers, he was suddenly hit with why she was so determined to go through with this that she hadn't even thought to see where Buffy had ended up. She had gone from being the sidekick and occasional Big Gun to being the one everyone turned to. The person everyone expected to have the answers and the plans and know exactly what to do. His Red was tired.

Spike took a deep breath and, in a soft voice, continued, "I know you're hurtin', Red. We all are. And I know we put so much weight on your shoulders, more than we should most of the time. I'm just asking that you make sure you're doing the right thing before you do something you can't take back."

He shifted his hold on the sides of her head – one hand unconsciously petting her hair as he did – and continued in a whisper, "And if she's better off where she is, we'll find some other way to make this right for you. I promise I will move heaven and earth to find a way."

In the silence that followed, he could practically feel Xander's desperate belief that Spike would pull a miracle out of thin air. He must have been desperate for someone other than him to stop Willow's plan if he didn't make a fuss at a vampire being so up close and personal with one of ‘his girls'. Spike was racking his brain for just such a miracle when Willow lifted her hands to rest gently on his wrists. The look on her face was grim and tired, and he half expected her to keep fighting him. Instead, he and Xander got their miracle.

"We'll wait until we can be sure. We'll all look for a way to find out where she is before we do anything else. And if she's better off… we'll figure out what to do."

Spike was too focused on the witch in front of him to pay attention to anyone else. That was why he missed the anger that flashed across Tara's face and didn't notice how, when he stepped back, the arms she wrapped around Willow were more than a touch possessive. If he had seen it, though, it wouldn't have mattered to him; he had got Willow to wait and that gave him hope he could stop her going down a path that could destroy her.

Last time he'd gone to this much trouble for someone else, he'd been a fool in love. What was his excuse now? Here he was going against the very nature of a vampire to prevent someone he… to prevent a friend from doing something potentially stupid. Was this what being a do-gooder was like all the soddin' time?

The meeting quickly lost steam after that and Anya less than tactfully kicked them all out. Spike, Willow, and Tara's trip back to the Summers' home was spent quietly talking about possible spells while they walked behind the bot and course corrected whenever it tried to go off in the wrong direction. They quickly figured out that they couldn't mention who they were looking for because it seemed to get Buffybot stuck on a logic loop and she refused to move while trying to work out what they were talking about.

Willow was so focused on trying to keep Buffybot walking in a relatively straight path that she missed the tension between Spike and Tara as she tried to subtly exclude him from research plans and he none too subtly included himself back in. Of course, the argument ended when Buffybot's glitch caused her to start spouting some of her original colorful programming again.

While Willow didn't seem phased, Spike didn't miss the almost triumphant look on Tara's face that went so smashingly with the surge of self-disgust rising in his gut. After making sure they made it safely to the house, he made his excuses and left.

The next morning found Buffybot training with Giles in the backroom of the Magic Box. Of course, that only lasted until Anya got bored and intruded on the session. Her blunt words reminded Giles that he wasn't training a slayer and he quickly lost any motivation to continue.

In answer to the bot's ever cheerful voice asking if he would like to test her again, he could only muster a half-hearted "No. Perhaps we should call it a day. Your, uh, your responses are fine."

He turned too quickly to notice the earnest expression that came across her face. However, he was brought up short by her next words.

"I can't call it a day. Willow told me that I had to stay here until she came to pick me up. She, Tara, Xander, and Spike are busy at my house. I told her I could help her look for the spell they wanted, but she used her resolve face."

A sense of unease took root in his stomach as he asked, "What spell are they looking for?"

The bot's smile was vacant and placid as it she told him, "It's a location spell. They want to find out if Buffy went to a hell dimension when she died."

Hurt lanced through him; both at the mention of his slayer and at the thought that they felt it necessary to exclude him. That hurt stayed with him as he mumbled some instruction to the bot and quickly left out through the back door to avoid being seen by Anya. It lasted until just after he started his car and he realized why they would have excluded him. It then quickly turned to an anger which stayed with him for the rest of the trip.

When he arrived at the Summers' house, he didn't bother with knocking. It was obvious that Spike had warned them he was coming up the walk by the fact that they were clearly in the middle of trying to hide their research.

"Don't bother cleaning up on my account."

While both Tara and Xander sat down with guilty expressions, Spike simply leaned back into his chair with a bored eye roll. Giles's eyes went to Willow who straightened up with an expression that was both defiant and defensive. When she made no move to try and explain herself, he broke the silence himself.

"Imagine my complete shock when I learned, from a robot of all things, what you lot were up to! At first I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why you would hide it from me. And then it dawned on me. You knew I wouldn't approve of your plan of action for if she's in a hell dimension."

Willow took a deep breath and smiled at him in what he could only assume was meant to be placating.

"There's no need to think about that one way or another until we find out where she is."

Her obvious disregard for reason infuriated him.

"Have you even put one moment of thought into how reckless and foolhardy this is? I will not stand by and let some arrogant amateur go against the very laws of nature!"

Almost immediately he felt the air in the room get heavier. Giles could feel a knot of dread form in his stomach. Spike was suddenly at Willow's side, hand over her arm as if to sooth her. Willow's face, however, didn't show any of the rage Giles could feel practically throbbing in the air. Her expression was cold as she spoke.

"If I find out that Buffy is in a hell dimension, I will get her out. And I will not be asking for anyone's permission."

Almost immediately the room seemed to lighten as Willow's expression turned pleading. "Giles, I don't want to fight. Let's not. We'll just focus on finding out where Buffy is. Okay?"

Feeling out of his depth, he could only nod. Had Willow become unstable and he somehow missed it? How had she gotten to this point? He was drawn out of his confusion by Spike's voice, obviously not believing silence would keep Willow calm.

"Old Rupes is just in shock, Red. How about I take him into the kitchen and have tea and a heart to heart with him. Brit to Brit?"

The look Willow turned on Spike was full of hope and relief as she quietly agreed. With a quick gesture of his head, he left the room and Giles followed without a word. However, Spike didn't stop in the kitchen; opting instead to head out to the porch where he obviously expected Giles to follow. The door had no sooner closed behind him than Spike was up in his face.

"Rule number one, Watcher, we do not piss off Willow. She is a mighty powerful witch who is buried under responsibility and grief. If she snaps, we're all buggered. When I found out about their little plan, she had already skipped straight to resurrection and her little witch and her friends had rolled right over and were ready to follow her every command. This finding out where the slayer is? This is my compromise.

"If we find out that Buffy is in hell, short of killing her, I doubt there's anything that anyone can do to stop her from getting her friend back."

Spike got impossibly closer and his voice dropped as he finished. "And I don't care how much it fries my brain, I won't be letting you or anyone else touch her."

Having said his peace, Spike went back into the house and began preparing tea. Giles had the sudden urge to find a quiet place to pray to whatever deity would listen that Buffy was in heaven because God help the world if she wasn't.

He quickly dismissed the idea of being able to stop Willow; he couldn't do it himself and even if he was willing to call in for help, the council would take too long to get a man here and there would be no telling if Willow would know they were coming. The only thing he could do was stick with them and try to ensure everything went as safe and smoothly as it could while perverting the laws of nature.

To that end, Giles entered the house and walked past where Spike was lounging against the kitchen counter. Making his way toward the door, he took a deep breath and turned back to where Willow was watching him with confusion.

"I believe I know just the spell we can use. I'll run by the Magic Box and grab the book so you can look it over."

Willow seemed relieved at his words and he did his best to return the smile she gave him before he left.

As Giles was making his way to the shop and returning with the book in question, a few hours ride out of Sunnydale the vampire that had escaped Spike and the Buffybot the night before was in a bar spilling his guts to a demon biker gang. It didn't take long for them to decide that the Hellmouth was ripe for the picking.

Oblivious to the incoming danger, Giles, Willow, and Tara went over the supplies they'd need for the spell while Spike listened from the kitchen and Xander left to go spend time with Anya and update her on the situation.

That night Willow sent Buffybot off to patrol. Of course, she couldn't see a way around telling her where everyone was headed, just in case the bot should malfunction again. As she stared up at the tower where Buffy had jumped to her death, Willow began to think on the possibilities. If they had to bring Buffy back, would that somehow also bring Dawn back?

Spike's voice, a hushed whisper at her side, brought her back to the present. "Everything's set up, pet. It's on you now."

She had no sooner looked at Spike and caught a brief glimpse of understanding and sympathy in his eyes, then Tara was on her other side gently pulling on her hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this so soon? We can always wait until you're ready."

Willow tamped down her anger; Tara was only trying to help and be considerate. Regardless of how it came across, she didn't mean to question Willow's abilities. She mustered up a smile she hoped came across as grateful and said, "I'm ready now."

"Well then, we're ready on our end." Giles voice was a welcome reprieve from the further questions she could see Tara was ready to ply her with. When she walked up to him, he gripped her shoulders lightly. There was comfort and reassurance in the gesture, neither of which she realized she needed so badly.

"This will take a great deal of concentration given the vast number of dimensions Buffy could be in. Calling on the first slayer should narrow down the possibilities, but I need you to focus solely on the task at hand. The rest of us will make sure nothing happens out here, you concentrate on the spell."

Giving a firm nod of her head, Willow said, "I'll keep my head in the game, coach."

Giles didn't smile, only shifted his hands until he held her face between them.

"Remember what you're looking for and why you're looking for it. Do not get lost. No matter what you see or what you are promised, remember that this… Remember that we are your home. Come back to us, Willow."

Her vision blurry with tears and a lump forming in her throat, Willow lifted her hands to his wrists and gave a reassuring squeeze and promised him she would in a barely audible voice. Walking toward the circle they had created, she accepted the hug from Xander and the oddly reassuring bright grin and thumbs up from Anya.

As Willow entered the necessary trance to track down Buffy's spirit, Buffybot was not far from them on patrol. It had been an uneventful night until she caught sight of a large group of demons vandalizing a storefront. Knowing it could simply be a case of a well-meaning demon not understanding the finer aspects of personal property, she informed him that the DVD player that he had just picked up wasn't his and he needed to put it back. She kept her voice firm and authoritative so he would know that it was not a suggestion.

He replied with a screech that seemed to be designed to call the attention of the other demons to her. Soon, she was surrounded by the group. The largest of them, most probably the leader, spoke to her. Banter was part of her programing and so she attempted to implement it. However, he quickly injured her, requiring her to locate Willow so she could be repaired. Hopefully her friend would understand why she had to intrude upon their evening and would be able to repair her soon enough to deal with the pack of demons that followed in her wake.

It didn't take long to find the tower where Willow and the others currently were. Unfortunately, the demons were on motorcycles and able to keep up with her. No sooner had she yelled to Willow that she needed service than the gang appeared behind her. She attempted to disengage from the fight, but there were a large number of demons and they continued to attack. Her friends were greatly outnumbered and were therefore unable to help her. She could not see a way out of the situation.

Perhaps if her friends had been equipped with weapons, the fight would have lasted much longer. However, in a short amount of time, the demons had them all captured and kneeling together. Buffybot found herself circled by four motorcyclists with a chain wrapped around each limb. She was sure that, were she able to feel fear, now would be the time she would. As it was, she chose to mute out the demon leader's speech and concentrate on her friends. Perhaps, if she somehow were to survive this attempted destruction, her memory banks would be all that was left of them. As her focus came to Willow, kneeling in a circle she saw the witch begin to come out of her trance.

Willow slowly became aware of the world around her. It was much louder than when she had left it; disturbingly so. She was extremely confused by the large number of demons, but that was quickly overridden by the sight of Spike, Tara, Giles, Anya, and Xander all being held captive. Looking around, she caught sight of the Buffybot gazing at her with an almost serene expression, highly at odds with the chains wrapped around her. Just as Willow registered what was about to happen, a gunshot went off and then the bot was torn apart.

Grief and rage tore through her, her heart unable to tell the difference between the death of her best friend and the destruction of a robot. A wordless scream ripped from her throat, the precursor to a wave of magic that incinerated half the demons yet left her friends untouched. Willow was so focused on the gang leader that she didn't feel it as she began to rise into the air. She took a deep breath and let out a scream that set fire to those demons left who hadn't already run. The leader remained and, with a snarl, stalked towards Willow. With a growl that barely sounded human, she pushed forward her hands as if digging into his ribcage from a distance. The demon stopped in obvious pain.

"And now you die."

Willow followed her words up by ripping her hands out away from each other and the demon in front of her was brutally torn in half. In the next breath, Willow, spent, fell to the ground. Within seconds Spike was by her side, pushing the hair out of her face and asking if she was okay. Before she could answer, Tara's arms were wrapped around her in a crushing embrace and Spike straightened up to stand beside them as Tara pulled back to look at her.

"Oh, baby! You're bleeding. We need to get you healed."

Limping toward them, half supported by Anya, Xander said "Not hating that last minute save, Wills."

With a pained grimace, Willow looked up at Spike. "We got lucky."

Looking around at their battered friends with a disbelieving laugh, Xander asked, "How is this lucky?"

Spike answered, though his eyes remained on Willow. "Because we're alive and the demons that Willow didn't manage to kill ran away. Those were Hellions. They go after vulnerable places. They obviously knew there was no slayer protecting the Hellmouth. The next time whoever comes might not run away.

With pained grunts and a lot of help from both Tara and Spike, Willow made it to her feet. Looking around at her battered friends and girlfriend, her eyes finally landed back on Spike.

"We need the Slayer."