"The Chosen One: Loving Eternally"
by Lisette:  Lisette_1@lycos.com

Created on 9/04/01

Legalese: The television series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and all related content belongs to Joss Whedon and ... now, UPN -- everything save for the story idea.  The Death Prayer found in Buffy's letter was written by Henry Scott Holland, the Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral back in the 1800's. Also, as you will see, there are a few quotes from The Evil That Men Do, by Nancy Holder.  No profit is being made by this story.

Description: In this sequel to The Chosen One, Buffy must face an old adversary in an attempt to salvage what remains of her life, and in doing so, must decide if there really is a life worth saving.

Rating: R for violence

Previously

    ... Riley slowly reached a hand into his jacket and pulled out a small, black velvet box... "Buffy... will you marry me?"

    "Well, it seems that Willow has stumbled across a spell that could close the Hellmouth here in Sunnydale."

    "Wait a minute, I thought that the Hellmouth was already closed?" Oz asked quietly, arching an eyebrow at the group.

    "Well," Willow eagerly spoke up, "the door to Hell is closed, but it's still there and puts off a sort of dark energy that attracts all of the bad stuff here to Sunnydale..."

    "And we think that this spell has the capability of erasing that door so that Hell can never be accessed from here again-"

    "So what you're telling us is that Sunnydale could... become normal?"

    "That... that monster, Angel called here earlier!" Joyce cried shrilly.  "I didn't even have a chance to say anything before he asked if he should come here..."

    The rest of her mother's words were lost to Buffy as the mention of Angel's name brought angry tears to her eyes...  Her face stormy, Buffy stomped into the room as her hard eyes locked onto Giles.  "Why did Angel call here?"

    "We.. we've been in contact with each other since he left," Giles stuttered, visibly shaken by her anger.

    "Which time?" Buffy asked bitterly as she shrugged off her mother's hand.

    "But... he.. he wants to help-"

    "NO!!" Buffy snapped.  "He left me -- us.  We don't need his help!  Promise me that you will NOT call him!"

    "I promise," Giles whispered quietly as his Slayer stood abruptly and stiffly walked away.

    Grinning, Riley climbed to his feet and locked eyes with Buffy.  The Amarra demon was no where in sight and only one of her vampire opponents remained.  Smiling, he took a step forward when he saw Buffy's eyes widen in horror.

    "No, RILEY!!" she screamed as he felt a sharp pain tear through the middle of his back and explode out through his chest above his heart.  Gasping, he felt his smile slip as he looked down to see one of their own sharpened wooden stakes protruding from a bloody hole in his chest.

    "Buffy?" he questioned, blood filling his mouth as he met her beautiful eyes -- and then he felt the stake being pulled back out as he slid to the ground.

    "RILEY!!" Buffy screamed, her eyes locked on his unseeing brown eyes, the demon standing behind him, a bloody stake in hand.  By the location of the bloody hole, Buffy knew that Riley was dead before he even hit the ground.  Riley was dead...

    "Just like Pauletta," Longchamp muttered, his words finally breaking through the blanket of grief that shrouded the room, eyeing the tears on the Slayer's face with disdain and pity. "You're not supposed to live so long that things other than slaying begin to occupy your thoughts. Only one other as good as you has ever reached this point: Pauletta."

    "I don't understand," Buffy whispered as her tears began to clear.

    "Like you, Pauletta too began to lose sight of her duty as she got older," he explained.  "And she too fell in love -- but she didn't realize that when you're the Chosen One, you're either the Slayer or dead.  There are no other options."

    "But it's MY LIFE!!" she protested, beating a fist against her chest.

    "No," Longchamp cut in sharply, "you're the Slayer.  The world needs a Slayer, and if a Slayer is not doing her duties then she must be destroyed so that another can take her place.  Haven't you noticed the changes in yourself during the last few years?  Child, your body stopped aging on your eighteenth birthday.  You are still mortal and can be killed but your body will no longer age.  You can live forever, if you're lucky.  This was Nature's way of creating the perfect Slayer, for you will become faster, stronger, and better with time... but the human mind cannot handle the gift for, obviously, there is no chance for a normal life.  Everyone you love will grow old and die around you while you remain young and beautiful -- alone...

    Frowning, the Watcher slowly settled into the driver's seat and slid his key into the ignition, the car roaring to life.  But just as he put the car into drive, the passenger door beside him clicked open as a young woman slid in beside him.  Surprised, Edward stared in shock at the girl beside him -- she looked horrible.  In the few days that she had been missing Buffy Summers looked as though she had eaten nothing, her skin pale, and dark rings lining her eyes.  And that wasn't the most disturbing thing -- the girl looked dead as there was no emotion in her at all.  "Miss Summers?" he finally asked quietly, noting that she looked at nothing but the empty road before them.

    For a moment there was silence and Edward was afraid that she hadn't heard -- until she nodded slightly, never looking his way.  "The world needs a Slayer," she whispered hollowly.

    Nodding, Edward finally understood as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway beyond.  As they left Sunnydale behind, Buffy Summers never once looked back.

A Few Days Later

    With practiced ease, the long, dark car pulled up in front of the familiar ranch house, the darkly tinted windows barely legal as the bright sun glinted off the smooth glass.  Hissing through clenched teeth, Angel instinctively clenched his pale hands around the steering wheel of the dark car, watching as Joyce Summers slowly walked up the long sidewalk, clothed from head to toe in black and supported by Giles and Xander on either side.  Closing his eyes briefly, Angel quickly shook his head as Buffy's beautiful face flashed in his mind's eye.

    "Buffy, what happened here?" he whispered to the empty car before slowly letting up on the brake and pulling away.

That Night

    Kneeling down, Angel lowered himself to the softly turned ground, the cool night quiet around him.  Sighing, he slowly lifted his eyes to the gleaming tombstone that adorned the fresh grave, his breath catching in his throat by reflex:

    Shaking his head, Angel slowly lowered his head -- and then froze as he sensed movement behind him.  As a hand was gently laid on his shoulder, he felt himself relax slightly.  "How did you know that I was here?" he asked, his eyes locking on the tomb.

    "I saw your car," came the quiet response.  "What are you doing here?"

    The question wasn't an accusation exactly, but it caused Angel to wince all the same, his gaze never leaving the smooth granite.  "You didn't call," he responded slowly, biting back his anxiety as one hand slowly clenched into a fist.  "What happened here?" he asked, afraid to ask but skipping over the most important question.

    "The spell worked," came the reply, stating something that Angel already knew.  It was impossible to not feel the change that had come over the town -- not to notice that the Evil pull of the Hellmouth was gone.

    "But?" he asked.

    "But somehow they learned of it and we were attacked... Riley was killed."

    Absorbing this, Angel sat in silence for a second before forcing out his real question -- the question that had driven him from the others and his business in L.A.  "And Buffy?"

    "Gone."

    Closing his eyes, Angel exhaled loudly before finally standing and turning.  Giles stood before him, his shoulders slumped wearily and his eyes rimmed with dark circles.  The man looked as though he hadn't slept in days.  "Gone where?  Why?" he asked, his long-dead heart already breaking for her.

    Shaking his head, Giles wearily pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to look at the fresh grave.  They had just buried him that morning, and in between contacting his family and searching for Buffy... well, there had been little time to grieve.  They just didn't have that luxury.

    "Giles?" Angel questioned again, his dark eyes filling with concern as he moved a hand towards his friend.

    Breaking out of his reverie, Giles brushed away Angel's concern.  "We don't know," he sighed, finally answering the vampire's question.

    "She ran away again?" Angel asked in surprise.

    "We fear worse," Giles admitted, thinking back to that morning.  He had been awakened by a frantic call from Willow and Xander, urging him to join them at Angel's abandoned mansion.  Instantly, he had begun berating himself as he rushed over.  He was ashamed at how long it had taken them to think to check there... the place had just never been mentioned since the last time that Angel left -- years ago.  When he got there, a pale and very frightened Willow met him at the door.  Without saying a word she led him to the dusty living room... and to a very large and drying pool of blood and a knife that he recognized all to well. "What does this mean?" Xander had asked frantically... Giles had no answer then -- or now.  As Angel's dark eyes settled on Giles, he felt as though the vampire was peering directly into his soul.  "The Watcher's Council attacked as well... and they told Buffy some things about herself... devastating things..."

    Even though Angel was curious, he also knew that there would be time for more details later.  Now, there was only one thing on his mind.  Turning, Angel quickly started through the cemetery towards his car.  "I'll find her," he vowed over his shoulder.

    "But..." he heard Giles call out behind him.

    "I'll be in touch!" he called back before disappearing into the night.

Six Months Later

    Sighing tiredly, Buffy pushed the motel door open and trudged inside, kicking the door shut behind her as she flipped the lights on in one fluid movement.  Turning, a yawn was caught in her throat as she met Edward's eyes from across the room.  "What are you doing here?" she quickly snapped, her eyes fiery as she moved further into the room and dropped her keys on the small table, her weapons bag falling on the floor beside it.  "I told you that I don't want a Watcher."

    Leaning forward from his seat in the shadows, Edward eyed the Slayer.  In the time that had passed since he had seen her last, the only changes were ones he didn't wish to see.  Oh, the petite blonde looked as healthy as ever in her customary tight, black leather pants, black halter and hooded sweatshirt, unzipped and covered in a mixture of ashes and caked blood -- her outfit of choice since her departure.  There were even ashes dotted in her high, blond pony-tail.  But the grief that he knew she must be going through was invisible, tightly locked down and hidden beneath a cool and expressionless facade.  Only the eyes showed a flicker of her pain and loneliness -- and she must be lonely.  

    The arrangement that she made with the Watcher's Council was simple: they contact her by phone as to where she's needed, provide transportation and housing, money for food, clothing, and of course the weapons that she'd require, and she'd do the slaying -- provided that there was no personal contact.  It was obvious that she'd never again risk getting close to someone that she was bound to lose -- a hard life for anyone.  Slayer or not.

    "Well?" she asked impatiently as she slipped out of her jacket, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor.

    Shaking his head, Edward focused on what had brought him there.  "Your friends are still searching for you," he said, finally catching her full attention.  "You're hurting them," he continued in a matter-of-fact tone as she turned away from him, leaning forward and bracing her hands on the table, her head hung.  "Something must be done."

    Sighing, Buffy slowly nodded her head.  He was right, of course... but Buffy had been prepared for this.  Turning away, she moved to the small pack that she carried with her everywhere, and withdrew a starched white envelope.  Lifting it, she peeked at the folded letter within before slowly lifting her left hand.  As it began to shake, Buffy forced it to stop as she reached up and slid her engagement ring off with the other.  But as she dropped the ring into the envelope and sealed it, she couldn't help the single tear that blazed down her cheek.  Turning, she quickly stalked over to the Watcher and thrust the envelope into his hands.  "Buffy Summers is dead -- now they can get on with their lives as they were meant to."

    Surprised, Edward looked away from the envelope and into the girl's eyes.  What he saw there caused him to nod curtly and leave without another world.  For in those eyes, he saw that if she wasn't already, the real Buffy Summers was dying and being replaced by a cold, emotionless Slayer -- the Council's dream weapon.  And the second after the door clicked shut behind him, Buffy slowly settled onto the strange bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her knees, small tears squeezing out between her tightly clenched eyelids as pictures of her friends and family flashed before her.  Alone once again.

A Few Days Later

    Running a hand through her tangled hair, Joyce Summers forced a smile and opened the front door... to an empty porch.  "Well that's odd," she murmured, knowing that she had heard the bell just a few seconds ago, as she stepped outside to survey the quiet neighborhood.  Nothing -- just a normal bright and sunny afternoon in Sunnydale, California.  Shrugging, Joyce turned to go back inside when she finally noticed the plain, white envelope that was taped to the door.

    Weary now, Joyce quickly turned and surveyed the happy neighborhood once again.  Everything had been quiet for so long, but one never knew -- especially for the mother of a Slayer.  Biting her lip, she eyed the innocent looking white envelope and debated calling for Rupert.

    "Oh, this is nonsense," she whispered harshly to herself, forcing a small laugh as she reached forward and pealed the envelope from the door.  Frowning, she slowly turned it over in her hands, noticing how it bulked on one end.  Shrugging once again, she quickly reached one manicured nail under the sealed flap and tore along the crevice.  And somehow, in that instant, the small bulky object within the envelope slid free and bounced on the ground.  Cursing softly, Joyce knelt down -- and froze as her eyes finally locked on the little object.

    Gasping, she felt herself pale and tears flood her eyes as she gingerly picked up the small ring, the diamond glittering brilliantly in the bright afternoon sun.  Shaking her head quickly, she palmed the ring and ripped the rest of the envelope open, her hands shaking as she withdrew a single sheet of paper.  She recognized the handwriting immediately as she lifted one hand to her mouth and read through her tears:

To Everyone I Love:

    I need to start by saying how sorry I am for leaving.  After last time, I made so many promises to never do that again.. but I didn't want to hurt any of you any longer.  I didn't know what else to do and knew there was no other way.  I love you all so much and we all know that my being there only endangers everyone that I love.  I can't live with anyone else dying because of me and my fight -- and that's what it is, my fight.  Not Giles, my friends, or anyone else.  I'm the Slayer and its my sacred duty... I've finally learned that lesson.

    I've been working with the Watcher's Council ever since I left, doing my job where needed... and I've instructed them to give you this letter if anything happens to me.  Just please remember how much I love you all.  Everything that I've fought for and everything that I've done -- it's all been for you.  Please live the lives that I've always fought for, free of fear and death... the one that I was never meant to have.  Live them for me.

    Remember these words: "Death is nothing at all.  I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name; speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was, let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well."

Love Forever and Always, Buffy

    Shaking her head slowly, small gasps escaping between her tightly pursed lips, the letter slipped unnoticed from her fingers and floated to the ground.  With shaking hands, she slowly pulled her hand away and looked once more upon the ring that her baby had worn with such happiness and pride.  The one that she would never willingly part with.  In that instant, something inside of Joyce Summers died as she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.  "BUFFY!!!"

Twenty-five years later

    As the wind blew through the open top of the sleek convertible, it tousled and whipped the driver's hair into a blond frenzy, glowing in the bright afternoon sunlight.  Like a master, the car hugged the corners of the tightly curved and winding roads, one side dropping off into the steep and rocky abyss of the valleys below while the other hugged the side of the winding mountain.  The breeze smelled of the salt from the Mediterranean Sea, just miles away back in the port town of Marseilles.  But then the sleek car was at a point where it could go no further, nosing into a parking spot amidst tourist buses and other vehicles, showing that the small village was already full of the eager tourists that populated much of France during the summer months.

    As the soft purr of the engine ticked into silence, the driver slid from the car, stretching cramped muscles before turning to join the throng of people that pulsed into the ancient village.  Boots clicking off hard cobblestone, she weaved around groups and hiked up the steep slope, her eyes locked on the ruins that dominated the top of the cliffs, the small village wrapped around and below.

    "Bienvenue aux Baux de Provence," the ticket woman chirped, smiling brightly at the girl that stood before the entrance to the ruins.  Slowly, that smile faltered as she really looked at the woman.  She was young, probably early twenties, with long, blond hair that lay straight around her shoulders, short and slim in close-fitting black leather pans and a black hooded sweatshirt that was zipped up despite the warm, summer day.  But more importantly, the woman noticed the cold indifference that wafted from the girl.  "Ah... vingt-cinq francs," she quickly stuttered, grabbing a ticket as the girl dropped the coins on the counter.  And without a word, the mysterious girl stepped past and disappeared amongst the horde of other visitors.

    "I hate tourist spots," Buffy Summers grumbled quietly, knowing that the woman's eyes were still upon her as she stepped around happy families and college kids with huge backpacks, finally stopping as she pushed through the exit of the museum and found herself on a large plateau of rock, crumbling castle ruins surrounded by the shear cliff edge that dropped hundreds of feet to the ground below.  "But suitably impressed," she acknowledged before getting jostled by a tour group.

    Grimacing, Buffy took a second to glare at the group before breaking away from the packs, beginning her exploration.  It took little time to stumble upon the ancient cemetery, filled with massive tombs and mausoleums -- her first point of interest.  But even that got old as she moved on, stepping over barriers and moving past ancient, crumbling walls and down slanted, carved stone steps until she entered a room that sat on the cliff edge, the wall long since destroyed and hanging free to the sky.  Enchanted, Buffy moved over tumbled rock and settled on the dusty stone floor, her feet dangling out over open air, the valley spread out far below her as she watched the fiery red sun begin its descent.

    It was as good as a place as any to wait for the tourists to leave and for the ruins to close for the night -- for the real fun to begin -- or so it should if her source in Marseilles had been telling the truth.  Then again, seeing as how the vampire had been staring down the point of her stake, she was pretty sure that he was reliable.  She had just been lucky that while cleaning out Marseilles' unwanted night life, she had stumbled across the one vampire who wanted to cut a deal -- his life for information.  Of course, once she heard about the plans to open a Hellmouth here in these ruins, the vampire was dust.  Maybe at some point Buffy would have been shocked at the ease of promising salvation only to look in the betrayed eyes of the one that she killed seconds later without a second thought.  Maybe before... not now.

    It had been twenty-five years since she left home without saying goodbye, forever cutting herself out of that life.  Since that time she had survived on a need to destroy all evil in the world -- hoping that somehow that would save her soul and atone for all of the mistakes that she had made before, all of the people that she had failed.  She didn't think that she ever could.  Once before she had realized the full weight of her responsibility and everything that she had done so wrong... Willow had later convinced her that just by being human that was an excuse... of course she now realized that it wasn't, for she was more than human.

    Buffy closed her eyes.  "It's just... every time someone gets killed, I think I should have prevented it.  I mean, how can I go Bronzing and to the movies and all that stuff, when I know we're on a Hellmouth?"

    "Because you're not a god," Willow said.  "Slayer, sure, but also a human being..."

    "But people die when I make mistakes," Buffy murmured. (The Evil That Men Do, Nancy Holder)

    It was a lesson that she had finally really learned those twenty-five years ago when Riley died.  Oh, she had learned that lesson well and had been forever changed as a result.  Gone was the happy, carefree Buffy that seemed to care only about the next source of fun.  Now, she lived solely for slaying... and would most likely die from it as well.  It was funny, because as the years had passed she found herself thinking more and more of Anya's description of the alternate Sunnydale that she had visited when granting Cordelia's wish all of those years ago.  She had mentioned an alternate Buffy... one that she imagined that she now resembled.

    Shaking off her heavy thoughts, Buffy noted that she had completely missed the sunset as the world was now cast into darkness.  Surprised, she cocked her head to one side, her blond hair cascading over her shoulder as she tried to pinpoint what had woken her from her thoughts.  And then her sharp hearing once more picked up the quiet chanting that seemed to drift down from somewhere on the plateau of rock up above.  Sighing, Buffy climbed to her feet and dusted off her black pants, being careful of the edge and crumbling stone.  While she was bound to die sooner rather than later, she didn't need to hurry the cause any by falling off a cliff.

    Grimacing at the picture her mind summed up at the gory thought, Buffy quickly unzipped her thin jacket and checked her stash of stakes and vials of holy water that were strapped around her thin form.  Reaching a small hand in, she withdrew one stake from its holster and a small pen-light from the other.  Clicking it on and illuminating her path, she then began her quiet ascent back to the rocky plateau, one sure-footed black boot after the other until she finally reached the moonlit ruins.  Quickly Buffy snapped her light off and moved past crumbling walls, the chanting growing steadily louder until she finally settled against what, in days long past, must have been an outside wall to the castle.

    With the sleek muscles of a cat, Buffy slowly inched up and peeked through the open stone window.  Immediately, her eyes focused on a ring of six vampires, game faces on and standing in a loose circle of flickering candles, a single wooden pole in the middle, looking as though it came straight from the Middle Ages -- as it probably did -- with a long and heavy crossbar on top, one indent in the middle and two smaller ones on either side -- just perfect enough for the neck and wrists of their struggling captive.

    Groaning, Buffy quickly shook her head as she crouched back down.  She hated when innocents were involved -- but at least she now knew where to start.  Reaching within her jacket, Buffy quickly snagged another stake and silently moved until she stood in the shadows of the broken wall.  Then, with precision honed by years of fighting,  Buffy quickly flicked her wrists back and then sent each stake flying with deadly accuracy as the two closest vampires disappeared in a shower of dust.

    But even as their remnants were floating to the ground, Buffy was sailing from the shadows, both feet extended forward with all of her strength and momentum behind it, slamming into the base of the pole from the side and shattering it.  Grunting, Buffy landed hard on her back as the girl tumbled free in the opposite direction.  But then she was moving again as she rolled backwards onto her knees, her hands grabbing two more stakes en route and sending them flying at the two vampires opposite of her.

    This time, only one stake hit home as the other vampire swiveled at the right moment, catching the stake in the shoulder and going down in a scream of pain and anger.  But Buffy wasn't worried for her main goal was already accomplished as the would-be-victim was on her feet and running for her life.  Now there were three down and three to go, one of which was injured -- now the real fun could begin.

    "Chienne!" the injured one barked as he ripped the stake from his bleeding shoulder.  "Est-ce que tu sais que c'est difficile de trouver une vierge jeune aujourd'hui?"  (Do you know how difficult it is finding a young virgin these days?)

    "Speak English," Buffy bit back as the two other vampires rushed her, snagging her under each arm and slamming her against a stone wall.  Grinding her teeth against the flash of pain, Buffy quickly retaliated with a sharp elbow to one, freeing up that arm to fire a punch that shattered her other captor's nose, cartilage and bone going in all directions as the neck snapped back so far that the vertebrae broke -- and then all that remained was a showering of dust.

    Free at last, Buffy quickly snagged another stake from her stash and turned.  Seeing the vampire with the injured arm begin staggering towards her, Buffy swiveled and launched herself at him with a flying kick that sent him soaring back a good ten feet or so.  And then she was moving again as she swung the stake out and buried the wood into the chest of the vampire that she had elbowed, showering herself once more in dust.

    Five down, one to go, she thought as she withdrew one more stake, her eyes locking with those of the vampire who was slowly climbing to his feet.  "Nous retournerons!" he vowed. (We will return!)

    "Yeah, whatever you say, buddy," Buffy bit back as she sent the stake flying, adding yet another pile of ash to the mess that already covered the rocky plateau.

    Alone once more, Buffy finally let her guard down as she rubbed aching muscles.  Sometimes she felt that she was getting too old for this -- until she remembered that that was a physical impossibility.  If anything, like the dead Watcher said, she just seemed to get stronger, faster, and more agile with each passing year.

    But then everything was forgotten as clapping echoed in the moonlit night.  Freezing, Buffy reached for her last stake as her eyes raked over the shadowed ruins.  "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice silencing the clapping as a single figure finally emerged from the shadows.  As the moonlight glinted off of short, spiky white-blond hair and a tall, lean figure, Buffy quickly lifted her hand and tried to hide her face.

    "You know, I haven't met a slayer with moves like that in a long time," the familiar British voice called out.

    "Ah zût -- Spike," Buffy muttered as she bent down and began retrieving stakes, trying her best to ignore him in hopes that he'd just go away.

    "Ah what?  The big, bad Slayer getting a little stage fright?" Spike taunted from behind her, his voice growing closer.

    "Oh, just go away," Buffy muttered beneath her breath as she began to move away.  She hadn't seen Spike since college all of those years ago when he left to search for Drusilla -- hoping that she'd somehow help to get the chip out of his head that kept him from fighting anything but fellow demons.  Seeing as how the Scooby Gang refused flat out, with good reason, the vampire had finally gotten desperate.

    "Hey love, I was talking to you!" Spike called out, obviously not used to being ignored.

    "I should stake you just on principal," Buffy finally muttered, unable to stop herself.  Instantly, she knew that she had gone too far as the angry vampire grabbed her arm.  Moving on instinct, Buffy easily twisted away, but her hood slipped off in the process, bringing her face to face with the first familiar face in twenty-five years.

    "Slayer?!?" Spike gasped, his jaw hanging slack in surprise and confusion.  "But you're dead!" he accused as he took in the familiar petite form and hard blue eyes, snagging her arm once again.

    "Close enough," Buffy snapped, shrugging his hand away once again.

    That stopped Spike cold as his eyes narrowed and reevaluated his first impression.  Yep, with that hair and lithe little figure, it was definitely the little vixen of a slayer that he remembered.  Then again, the posture and expression were something new.  That sharp little wit of hers was nowhere to be seen as the eyes that stared back at him were flat and hard.  "What in the hell happened to you and why does everyone think that you're dead?" he blurted, grimacing at the changes that were evident in her.

    Frowning, Buffy was tempted to fire back at him, but instead reeled in what had to be a bout of irrational anger and turned her back on him once again.  "You never saw me," she stated coldly as she walked stiffly away.

    Amazed, Spike quickly shook his head.  "What a bloody bitch!" he laughed.  When he didn't get a response, a mischievous glint entered his cold blue eyes.  "You abandoned them."

    Just as he knew it would, that one got through to Buffy as she swiveled on her heels and stalked angrily towards him.  "Shut up!" she cried, jabbing a finger angrily at his chest.  "You don't understand!"

    "What's there to understand?" Spike asked as innocently as he could muster.  "You lied to them-"

    "I did it for them!"

    "Tell that to your bloody friends."

    Frustrated now, Buffy stomped her foot angrily, feeling like the angry child that she looked.  "Why don't you understand?  It was necessary to do things like this," she growled angrily.

    "Like what?" he retorted quickly, a sneer distorting his pale features.

    Sighing, Buffy reeled in her emotions and quickly locked it behind a passive face.  Shaking her head, she slowly turned away.  "You could never understand."

    "Oh, give me a bloody break!" Spike guffawed, surprising Buffy enough that she faced him once again.  "Don't you realize how bloody selfish you've been?  Your family has been mourning your tragic death for the last two decades while you've lived the good life!"

    Biting her lip, Buffy resisted the strong urge to dust the arrogant vampire.  She knew that being around people that she loved only endangered them, but deep down she always regretted her actions... if only there had been another way... but there hadn't.  Ever since she had left Sunnydale for the last time, Buffy had worked loosely in conjunction with the Watcher's Council, doing whatever was needed to make the world a better place.  She became a slaying machine and the guilt and loneliness only fueled her anger and desire to fight.  And throughout it all, she avoided everything from her past life like the plague, not even stepping foot in California for fear of being recognized.  In the end, her only connection with her past life were her visits to the complex where Faith was being held.  Apparently, twenty years or so ago the Rogue Slayer had attempted escape from the Watcher-run facility.  The result was another coma that still plagued the girl -- one from which, for real this time, she may never awaken.

    Perhaps it was for the best, for if Buffy had learned of Faith's captivity before the coma, she probably would have done something stupid like break her out -- differences between them or not.  Instead, she had spent many slow times at the compound, visiting her old ally and enemy.  Just seeing that ghost from her past had always been enough.

    "Buffy?" Spike asked, the closest thing to worry he could muster entering his eyes.

    "I hate you," was Buffy's reply, both knowing it was halfhearted.

    "So what else is knew?" Spike threw back, grinning as the Slayer's cold features finally cracked and the first thing to a smile that the girl had probably seen in a long while lifted her lips.

    Shaking her head, Buffy marveled at how this brief time with a person that she could never stand stirred in her remnants of her old self -- the parts that she thought had long ago disappeared.  "So.. haven't you found Dru yet?" she asked, knowing instinctively that the vampire still lived with his chip -- for otherwise he would have tried ripping her head off about ten minutes ago.

    Instantly the smile disappeared from Spike's face as he turned solemn.  "Yeah, and she's still as bloody batty as ever -- tried to stake me last week," he muttered crossly, absently rubbing his chest as the Slayer's smile began to grow.  "Hey, I wouldn't be smiling if I were you!" he quickly cut in.  "After all, I was just on my way to Sunnydale-"

    "Via Baux de Provence?" Buffy interrupted skeptically, arching a slim eyebrow at the vampire.

    "Yeah, as a matter of fact I am," Spike said, his tone deadly serious.  "Cause Dru's on her way there right now, on a new self-righteous kick to kill anything that ever hurt her -- hence myself and all the 'dead' Slayer's friends and family."

    Once more, Spike's words caused Buffy to freeze as the smile slipped from her face as she slid into silence.  

    "Slayer?" Spike asked, fidgeting impatiently.

    And then the cold Slayer that she had become clamped down tight on any emotion but anger and determination.  Turning, she pushed past him and stalked across the rocky ruins.

    "Hey, where ya goin'?" Spike called after her, surprised by the sudden change.

    "To Sunnydale -- and I suggest that you find somewhere to hide out at until this business is finished.  Once and for all!" she cried out over her back as her slim form disappeared into the shadows of the dark night.

A Few Days Later
Sunnydale, California

    As nighttime settled over the quiet little town of Sunnydale, the normal night life of any college town on a Friday night began to buzz.  Quietly, as Buffy approached her old house, she couldn't help noticing the changes in her town.  Night had fallen and she could still hear the sounds of laughing children, saw older couples enjoying the cool night from porch swings, while the streets were alive with people.  "A town without the Hellmouth," she mused, shaking her head slowly as she stopped in front of her house, ablaze with lights -- save her old bedroom.

    Sighing, she quickly straightened the long, black leather duster that she had traded for her sweatshirt.  With it buttoned down to her waist and flaring around her hips to her knees, she felt far more hidden from the world -- a good thing in Sunnydale, she thought, as she adjusted the scarf that hid her face and hair from the world and tucked the ends within the duster.

    Then, noticing the curious stares that she was drawing from the neighbors, Buffy quickly moved on down the street before doubling back under the cover of shadows.  Soon, she was once more beside her house, moving from window to window until she finally stopped and crouched outside an open one that looked into the living room.  What she saw was enough for a lump to form in her throat as tears burned her eyes.  

    "Mom," she whispered, easily recognizing the slightly stooped, grandmotherly woman that had to be in her late sixties.  She was the most beautiful person that Buffy thought that she had ever seen, with white hair speckled with blond, slim and full of beautiful wrinkles -- but her smile was what she recognized the most, growing wide as another person stepped into the room and stood beside her as she paged through what looked like a TV Guide.  Smiling, Buffy turned and took in the older man who stood beside her.  "Giles," she pegged quietly and fondly as the balding man wrapped an arm around her mom's shoulder, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.  Shaking her head, Buffy casually glanced around the rest of the room, mildly surprised to see all of the pictures of her growing up gone and replaced with what looked to be pictures of her Mom and Giles and some dark-haired guy, in various stages of life.

    "Oh Rupert," Buffy heard her mom say as she settled into an armchair, "must you really keep complaining about joining me to watch this program?  The artist was showcased in the gallery just a few months ago!" she admonished, causing Buffy to grin impishly.

    Frowning, Giles looked down at this wife over the rim of his glasses.  "Well, you did view the history documentary with me the other night," he conceded stiffly, to Buffy's great amusement.  It took everything in her to keep from jumping from her hiding place and running inside to hug them both and never let go.  She had been dreaming about this moment for the past twenty-five years... well, not about spying on her family from outside their windows, but about the chance to see everyone again.  She had missed them all so much that in the end she tried to never think about what her sacred duty had taken away from her.  All in vain, of course, for they always haunted her every thought.

    Suddenly, there was movement out in the hallway and Buffy felt herself tense as she watched yet another person enter the room, this time a stranger.  The guy was tall, looked to be about her age, standing what looked to be a good head taller than her with straight dark brown hair cut stylishly short with a small pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.  "I'm going to the Bronze with Alex and Will," he announced, sliding his arms into a light, black leather jacket.

    Smiling at the familiar club name, Buffy watched as the guy bent down to kiss her mom and wave at Giles, unable to stop the small flare of jealousy at the stranger.  Even if the guy was kind of cute, it did nothing to drive away the big question in her mind: who was he and what was he doing in her house and kissing her mom?

    "Be careful, Riley," Joyce called out as the doorbell rang and the guy disappeared into the hallway, the familiar name causing Buffy to immediately freeze, her jaw hanging slack with shock.

    "I will, Mom!" his voice echoed back.

    "Mom?  Riley?" she squeaked quietly as her eyes turned instinctively towards the array of photographs that dotted the familiar room.  Idly, she realized that Riley was the dark-haired guy smiling brightly from each of the photographs in between her Mom and Giles, in various stages of growing up.  "They got married and had another kid," she realized, slowly stumbling back away from the window, tripping over bushes and landing on her rump on the dewy ground.

    Her mind reeled from the thought as Buffy slowly climbed to her feet, idly brushing herself off.  Realistically, she knew that things were bound to change during the past twenty-five years, but she had never imagined in her wildest dreams that they would change this much!  For the longest time, Buffy had locked all emotions within herself -- love, anger, loneliness, hatred -- everything was carefully locked away in her heart, allowing her to become the perfect slayer -- a machine.  With disgust, Buffy realized that her iron control had seemingly crumbled thanks to Spike's unexpected visit -- well, not anymore.  She was here to do a job, plain and simple, and once it was done she had to move on.  She couldn't afford to allow her feelings to emerge and rule her once again.  If they did, then Buffy knew that she'd never be able to leave a second time.

    As the front door slammed around the corner, Buffy finally woke from her reverie.  Curious, she sidled up to the house and carefully gazed around the corner, her eyes locking on Riley... her half brother.  She had a brother.  For the first time in her life, she had a brother.

    "So, can we get moving already?" a girl's voice impatiently demanded, drifting to Buffy as she inched out further, watching as a beautiful girl with long, straight black hair with red highlights tugged on Riley's arm.  "Will and I have been Bronze-ready all night!" she complained in a soft whine.

    "Alex, don't be so impatient," a guy's voice admonished gently as a tall and lanky red-head joined the other two on the porch steps, his hair spiked wildly in all directions.

    "Sorry," Riley shrugged, absently adjusting his glasses in a way that just screamed of Giles.  "You know how my mom is..."

    "Yeah, well you're not the one with a cop for a Dad," Alex broke in as she skipped down a step, rolling her eyes dramatically.

    "Hey, Uncle Xander is cool, and you know it!" Will quickly defended, almost causing Buffy to stumble once again as her eyes locked on the other two kids.

    "Xander?" she whispered as she studied the dark-haired girl, taking in her tall, slim form and dark features.  "Oh my God, she's Xander and Anya's daughter!" Buffy whispered silently, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as she watched the guys join her and start down the street.  Then, as the two guys laughed and rolled their eyes at their friend's antics, Buffy's eyes swung to the remaining guy.  "Will... Willow and Oz?" she whispered, instantly seeing the similarities to her friends -- even in his more quiet nature in comparison to the loud Alex.  Shaking her head, Buffy slowly backed up until she was pressed against the house, hidden in shadows.

    The Scooby Gang with kids?  The next generation?  It was almost too much to absorb, Buffy realized as she darted into the street in the opposite direction the others had taken.  She knew where they were going and everything seemed under control for now -- except for herself.  She couldn't lose control now -- not with so much on the line.  NNot now.

    Someone else smiled from the shadows as the three friends slipped past, oblivious to the danger that night brought once more.  "Hmmm..." the person hummed contentedly, slowly drifting away.  "So many new dolls to play with..."

    As she slowly walked through the shadowy graveyard, her feet crunching quietly over soft pine needles, Buffy couldn't help but notice the irony in her surroundings.  While the rest of the world seemed to be a strange, new place, the one that hadn't changed throughout the years -- and never would -- was the cemetery.  Her old playground.  Sighing, Buffy slowed and lowered herself onto a tall tombstone, rubbing her forehead wearily.  It was so hard being here -- she no longer belonged.  After all, she was dead.

    Groaning, Buffy scrubbed even more fiercely at her forehead, willing away the images from her past as she turned her head -- and froze as her eyes settled upon a familiar name.  Physically cringing away from the sight, Buffy stared at Riley's name, etched in stone for all eternity, before slowly sliding to her feet and moving forward.  She didn't even feel the tears on her face as she knelt and traced a finger over his name.  She had truly cared for him -- but she couldn't save him -- had failed him.  Closing her eyes tightly, Buffy turned away, her head hung, and then lifted it -- only to be met with her own name, carved in a similar stone beside his.  Surprised, Buffy straightened and stepped back, admiring both headstones with a sense of morbid curiosity.

    Nodding slowly, Buffy realized once more why she was there, back in the town of so many memories, as her tears dried on her face and as the coldness invaded her once again.  Buffy Summers was dead -- died twenty-five years ago -- but the Slayer lived on.  And this time, the Slayer wouldn't fail.

    As the doorbell rang throughout the house, Giles quickly hurried to his feet and shuffled from the living room.  "I'll get it!" he called back, praising whoever it was from saving him from the mindless numbing of the art program that was quickly putting him to sleep.

    "Well, who on Earth could it be at this hour?" he heard his wife mutter from the other room as he stepped into the hall, the bell ringing persistently once more.

    "I'm coming!" Giles hollered, wondering at the urgency of the visitor as he twisted the knob, only to be jostled to the side as someone pushed past him into the house.  "Why--" he began angrily as his eyes settled on the man, only to have his words die in his throat as he reached a shaky hand up to adjust his glasses.  "Angel," he acknowledged, eyeing the vampire, looking as though not a day had passed in his dark clothing and long leather jacket.  "It's been--"

    "Call the others," Angel interrupted quickly, pushing the door shut even as he eyed the bright house -- it hadn't really changed in the time that he had been gone, he noticed.  With shadowed eyes, he realized once more that he hadn't been back since... since the funeral.

    "What?" Giles began as Joyce stepped slowly into the hallway, her eyes locked on the vampire.

    Ignoring her, Angel reached over and snatched the portable phone from a hall table and thrust it into Giles' hands.  "Call them," he ordered and then, glancing apologetically at Joyce, he quickly turned his eyes to the quiet night hidden behind a flimsy layer of glass.  "I think that trouble is heading this way."

    As the music pulsed around him, Riley felt the bass kicking in his stomach, mixing with the scent of liquor and sweat that permeated the nightclub.  Nodding his head slightly in time with the beat, his dark eyes slowly roamed over the packed club, unsure of what he was looking for -- or who.

    "I can't believe that they're playing a Dingo's song!" Alex yelled above the pulsing music, nodding at the group that occupied the stage.  "That's so wacked!  They're not even attempting to be original!"

    "Is that a crime?" Riley yelled back, shrugging his shoulders as she flashed him a mock look of scandalization.

    "But they don't even play this stuff on the radio!" she protested, pushing her long hair from her face.

    "That's because my Dad owns the radio station," Will retorted, stirring his drink aimlessly with his straw.  "He thinks that it's tacky to play his own stuff."

    "Yeah, but-"

    Smiling ruefully at his friends, Riley tuned out the rest of the conversation as his attention turned back to the people around him.  Like his mom, he loved art -- painting was his life -- so people watching had always been a favorite past time.  You never knew who you might see.  

    "And what do we have here?" he muttered quietly, unconsciously adjusting his thin, wire-rimmed glasses as he watched a dark stranger join the crowd of Bronzers.  The girl moved with a natural ease that spoke of belonging even as she seemed out of place amongst the others.

    "Hello, Earth to Riley!" Alex singsonged as she waved a hand in front of his face.  "Whatcha watching?"

    "A girl, from the looks of it," Will replied with a wink as he watched the hidden figure move throughout the crowd.  Once, he caught her eye briefly before she quickly turned away, arriving at an empty table.  "And a cute one at that," he added, whistling appreciatively as the dark scarf was finally pulled away, long, shining golden blond hair tumbling free as the girl slipped out of her long jacket and draped it across the back of her chair, revealing a petite form in tight, black leather pants and small, strappy red tank.

    Intrigued, Riley eyed the girl as she grabbed a drink from a passing waitress, her eyes scanning the room.  "Well, I don't think that she's anything special," he vaguely heard Alex huff as his eyes locked with the stranger, sending an electric bolt through him.  He couldn't say what it was, but something about the stranger captivated him and sent him to his feet.  "Let's go say hi," he muttered, abandoning their table and pushing past dancing couples, not even checking to see if his friends followed.

    "Well," Alex muttered, crossing her arms stiffly as she watched her friend take off.  But of course, her flash of anger disappeared even faster than it came as she hopped to her feet, pulling Will along and quickly caught up to Riley as they converged upon the stranger.

    "Mind if we join you?" Will asked quietly, flashing a bright grin at the girl, seeing as how no one else seemed about to.  And for a moment, it almost seemed as though the girl was going to refuse before shrugging slowly, looking anything but inviting.

    "Hi, I'm Alex!" Alex quickly chirped as she slid into a seat, "and that's Will and Riley," she added, nodding at each in turn.

    Forcing a smile, the girl slowly nodded.  "I'm B... Anne!" she countered, catching herself quickly.  But if any of the guys noticed, they didn't show it as Will continued to drool and Riley stare.  No wonder the girl was unnerved, Alex thought with a snicker.

    "So... we're seniors at the UC here in Sunnydale-"

    "I'm in the film school!" Will volunteered, interrupting Alex eagerly, his eyes lighting up as they always did when either movies or computers were mentioned.

    "Oh, that's... interesting," Buffy managed, wanting nothing more than to slink away.  Here she was chatting away with the kids of her best friends -- and her MOM AND GILES -- and Willow's son was even flirting with her.  Yep, coming in was a definite bad idea -- but she had to make sure that they were still there and alright.  They were vulnerable out here, with no apparent idea of what the night held.... especially if Spike had been right about Drusilla.  Although why she would want to take revenge on the Scooby Gang for something so long ago just showed how crazy the vampire really was.

    "My sentiments exactly," Alex agreed, flashing a bright smile as Will showed mock hurt, surprising Buffy as for a moment she thought that the girl had read her mind.  "So, B-Anne, do you go to the UC as well?" she laughed, winking at the girl.

    "Yeah, have we met somewhere before?" Riley asked, never breaking his fierce concentration.

    "Um, not exactly," Buffy answered Alex truthfully, ignoring Riley for the moment as she felt his eyes bore into her.  "I... I just came from France-"

    "Wow, really?" Will broke in eagerly.  "Your English is amazing!  I don't even hear an accent!"

    Absorbing that, Buffy forced a bright smile.  "Thank you," she added.  If they thought that she was French, all the better.  "So, are you guys all from around here?"

    "Born and raised," Alex confirmed, yawning dramatically, "in what we fondly call Sunny-bore, California.  A place that lacks all excitement and where nothing ever happens!" she chirped, missing the shadow that seemed to flash across the girl's face.

    "Boring?" Buffy asked innocently, shaking her head slightly.

    "Well, yeah," Will admitted with a small grin, "but it's not always been like this!" he quickly added as he took a sip from his drink.  "A long time ago, before we were born, there used to be a lot of gang activity here," he continued truthfully in an amusing attempt to impress.

    "Gang activity?" Buffy asked slowly, surprised to see that all three of them seemed to believe every word that was said.  Apparently they had been sheltered from the truth of everything that really went bump in the night -- not that she could blame her friends for hiding it from them -- more innocence needn't be stolen.

    "Yep," Will agreed with a sad smile.  "My mom once said that close to half of their high school class didn't survive high school -- literally.  But she doesn't really talk about it-"

    "None of them do," Alex interrupted with a frustrated smile.  "It's like the town's deepest, darkest secret-"

    "And they lost someone close to them," Riley interrupted, finally driven out of his silence as he looked deep into Buffy's eyes.  "My sister."

    "You... you had a sister?" Buffy whispered, her face an expressionless mask.

    "Yeah -- she died before I was born," Riley sighed, the spell breaking as he shared a smile with his friends.  "My parents never mention her, but her tomb says that she was our age when she was killed.  Her name was Buffy."

    "Oh, I'm sorry," Buffy mumbled, her eyes turning back to her drink as she focused on maintaining control.  And as the world continued to spin on without her, Buffy felt a single tear build and sting her eye.  Never mention me?  Shaking her head, Buffy vaguely heard the conversation continue, making it evident that the speculation on the dark times of Sunnydale was a popular conversation topic for the youths.

    "Hey, you okay?" Riley asked, leaning forward and gently touching her elbow.

    Jumping as though burned, Buffy quickly slid from her chair and grabbed her duster.  Seeing the surprised looks of the others, Buffy offered an apologetic smile and began backing away.  "I need some fresh air," she offered quickly before hurrying away, pushing past dancing couples and bursting out into the darkened alley.

    "Gee, was it something that I said?" Will asked slowly, staring at the recently vacated seat.

    "I don't know -- do I have something big and nasty stuck in my teeth?" Alex offered, baring her teeth at her friends before smiling impishly.

    "Nothing out of the ordinary," Will countered as he finally noticed his quiet and pensive friend.  "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, nudging Riley gently.

    "Yeah, and what was with the 'have we met before' line?" Alex laughed, brushing a wave of her raven hair from her face.  "You already had her cornered!  There was no need to haul out the heavy artillery!"

    Shaking his head, Riley finally broke out of his thoughts and managed to laugh quietly with his friends.  "Okay, so she was cute-" he began to concede.

    "Hot," Will interrupted with a wide grin, running a hand through his red hair.

    "But she didn't interest me like that," Riley continued, sending his friend an amused glance.  "There was just something about her..."

    "I think that I'm going to be sick!" Alex joked, ducking under the table, her long hair sliding forward to hide her face.

    "Whatever," Riley laughed as he slid from his stool.  He had to admit that after his more than bizarre behavior, he deserved that.  There was just something about Anne that caught his attention.  Shrugging his shoulders, he quickly reached forward and snagged his jacket.  "Are you guys ready?"

    "So soon?" Alex whined even as Will pulled her to her feet.

    "Whenever you are," Will agreed as he followed him to the door, the three friends never noticing the dark shadows that followed after.

    "Okay Dead Boy," Xander said, running a hand through his graying hair as he settled back onto a couch, "what's the emergency?"  And even as he said it, Xander felt a rush at the familiar scowl that creased the vampire's face.  Sighing, he glanced quickly around the room, seeing his closest friends, and realized with a smile that some things would never change.  But as his eyes rested on the faces of those that he loved most, he realized how their years had never seemed so apparent until now, when facing one who would never age.  As always, his heart ached  for the one that was missing.

    "You haven't changed, have you?" Angel muttered, sending the man a withered glare.

    "Not one bit," Willow confirmed, adjusting her glasses as she snuggled against her husband's side.

    "And probably never will," Giles agreed, frowning at the man that the lanky teen had become.  "Why they trust him with an entire police department-"

    "Hey, this is emergency meeting time, remember?" Xander broke in indignantly, Anya patting his hand comfortingly.  "Pick-on Xander time isn't until tomorrow night," he added, unable to resist.  Smiling wryly, he couldn't help but realize that being back in this situation, this gathering of old friends, brought back so many comforting memories of other crunch sessions, getting the forces of good ready to fight the bad guys.  In a way, it brought out a part of himself that he thought he had lost long ago -- the youthful and jovial teen that had matured into the man and father that he was today.

    Rolling his eyes, Angel noticed that once more all eyes had returned to him.  Which meant that it was time to get down to business.  "Spike called me."

    "Oh joy!  And what did that lump of good times have to say?"

    "Xander!" Joyce admonished, instantly causing him to turn contrite as he saw Willow roll her eyes.

    Ignoring their exchange, Angel's dark eyes locked on Giles.  "Dru's heading this way, intent on revenge," he said quietly, the room instantly falling silent.

    "Oh joy?" Xander muttered quietly, his voice strained this time.

    "Revenge?  Revenge for what?" Anya asked quickly, her eyes growing wide with alarm as they jumped back and forth between her husband and Giles.

    Ignoring the question, Joyce quickly locked eyes with the vampire that she hadn't seen in so many years.. the one that was bringing back so many memories just with his presence.  "Is Spike coming to help?" she asked, her fondness for the bleached vampire showing once again.

    "He was," Angel confirmed as he turned to stare out into the dark night beyond the thin layer of glass.  "But he said that he was sending a Slayer instead."

    Crouching in the shadows, Buffy stayed against the walls of the dark businesses, her eyes locked on the three that strolled down the sidewalk in front of her -- acting as if they owned it, without a care in the world.  Biting her lip, she reached inside her long leather duster and fingered the tip of a sharpened stake; she wouldn't let anything happen to them.  She wouldn't fail her friends.. this time.  Then again, the three were not making it easy on her as they walked as if they owned the very night, laughing and talking so loud that their voices echoed back to her.

    The next generation.  That was what they were -- a continuation of her and her friends, untouched by darkness.  Alex was beautiful, taking the best attributes of Xander and Anya, with a bright and loud personality that spoke of her parents -- yet she was obviously her own person as well.  And Will -- he was a cutie with that wild, spiky red hair and lanky frame -- obviously a bit of a nerd like his mom had been, with her same eagerness while somehow balancing it with Oz's traits.  And Riley... he seemed to be everything that she wasn't.  Tall to her petite frame, dark to her fair complexion, looking so smart and proper with his glasses, but exuding a quiet and friendly aura in comparison to her more outgoing and outrageous personality -- or so it was before.  The three had obviously grown up together, happy and without being surrounded by death.  She was jealous of the opportunities that they had and didn't even know.

    But then, as Buffy noticed a group of guys approaching from the other direction, she knew that it was her job to maintain that for them.  Her senses going wild, Buffy slowly straightened as the group crossed the street, obviously planning to intercept the three friends who remained oblivious to the obvious threat.  Sighing, Buffy quickly abandoned her hiding spot and advanced on the trio.  "Hey guys," she called out in greeting.  As they turned towards her in surprise, she casually unbuttoned her coat and began reaching for a hidden stake.  "Listen, I need you to-"

    "Anne!" Alex cried out, interrupting her as she clapped her on the back.  "Where did you come from?" she chirped as the group of guys stopped a few feet away, finally gaining Alex's attention.  "Oh, hey-"

    "Are you sure these are them?" a tall guy with a long, black ponytail asked his buddies, eyeing the group as he ignored Alex's greeting.

    "Those three are," a short, muscled blond guy nodded.  "Drusilla said to bring them to the docks -- alive," he added, frowning slightly.

    That finally caught their attention as Will slowly eyed the six to their four -- the six creepy looking guys to the four of them -- clueless and without a single means of defense.  "Hey, I think that there's been some sort of mis--"

    "And the blonde?" a fat, pimpled guy asked as he licked his lips appreciatively, his eyes traveling up and down Buffy's slim form.

    Grinning, the short blonde nodded at his friends.  "Dinner," he laughed, winking at Buffy.

    "Oh, give me a break!" Alex cried out in disgust, stubbornly crossing her arms across her chest.  "Dinner?  How disgusting and.. and... disgusting can we be here?" she fumed as she tapped her foot angrily.

    But as the group of thugs began to advance, Will gently but firmly grabbed Alex's arm and began to push her behind him, Riley doing the same thing with Buffy.  "You girls better get out of here," he muttered quietly, his brow creasing with worry.

    "Oh, please!" Alex retorted as she shook Will off.  "Don't pull that macho crap on me!  I'm the one who's going to be a cop!  I'm perfectly capable of-" she broke off as the thugs finally morphed, showing their true nature.  Instantly, Alex's words turned into a strangled scream as she dove behind Will, accidentally ramming Buffy and sending her to the ground.

    Grunting, Buffy looked up and watched as one vampire backhanded Riley, sending him flying as another lifted Will by his neck, strangling him as two more converged on Alex.  And then as she was yanked roughly to her feet, Buffy saw that she had two to herself: the fat pimply one and another one that looked like a vamped out Scarecrow.  "Showtime," she muttered, avoiding pimple's sharp, gnashing teeth with a backhand that broke his nose and a knee to the other that sent him to the ground in agony.  Turning, she quickly flew at the vampire who held Will in a quick roundhouse that dropped the vampire and sent Will to his knees, gasping for breath.

    Moving like a well-oiled machine, Buffy reached for her stake and dusted the downed vampire before turning to Alex's aid.  Moving faster than the girl's eyes could follow, Buffy unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks before using her stake to cause ash to explode around them.  Without pause, she was backtracking, finishing off Pimples and Scarecrow before advancing on the short, blond ringleader.  Grunting, Buffy shoved him against a nearby wall and held him there, a stake pointed at his chest.  "I want you to bring a message to Drusilla," she ordered, watching as the vamp nodded his head quickly in fright.  "Tell her that the Slayer's in town and that these kids and their families are under my protection.  She messes with them and she messes with me!" she hissed as she released him, pushing him sideways so that he stumbled and tumbled on the sidewalk.  "Go!" she ordered, her voice sending him scampering away, soon disappearing into the dark night.

    Sighing tiredly, Buffy sheathed her stake and turned to see Alex and Riley crouched around Will, the latter holding his throat painfully as all stared at her in wide-eyed amazement, frozen in shock.  Groaning, Buffy slowly stepped forward, only to watch as the others scuttled back a bit -- not that she blamed them.  Instantly the cold mask dropped down once more as Buffy began buttoning her duster.  "Is everyone alright?" she asked quietly.

    "We'll live," Will croaked, fingering his throat as his friends helped him to his feet.

    "Good.  Can you make it home alright?"

    "Well, yeah, but-" Riley began as Buffy turned and began walking away.  "Anne?"

    "You better hurry!" Buffy called out in response before melting into the shadows.

    With wide eyes, Alex turned and looked at her two friends before quickly yanking them in the direction of Riley's house -- the closest to their location.  "You heard the girl!" she ordered, dragging them down the road as her eyes skipped back to Riley.  "And you know, you weren't kidding when you said that there was something about her," she muttered, limping slightly amongst her bruised friends.  "Definitely weren't kidding."

    "So, what are we going to do?" Joyce asked quietly, breaking the bleak silence that had fallen over the group.

    "What do you mean what are we going to do?" Xander asked, all eyes turning to him as he slowly massaged his forehead.  "As I see it, we have two options: we either let Drusilla come in and kill us off like sitting ducks or we fight as we always have."

    Sighing, Giles slowly nodded his head.  "For once, Xander's right," he agreed.  "And with Angel, this new slayer, and all of us, we should be able to-"

    "Okay, is the age thing affecting everyone here?" Anya interrupted in her usual blunt way, standing up and taking center stage.  "I mean, yes, we do have Angel and the other slayer on our side, if she even gets here in time," she amended, ticking the points off her slender fingers, "but us?  Help fight?" she laughed as everyone seemed to fidget uncomfortably.  "Hello people!" she singsonged.  "Haven't you looked in the mirror lately?  We're old!" she pointed out, and then with a small smirk she turned towards Giles and Joyce, "and they're really old.  What help can we be?"

    Wincing, Xander looked up at his wife and then shrugged at the others.  "The tact issue has been a long battle -- all uphill-"

    "Dad!  Mom!"

    Surprised at the chorus of voices from the hallway, the parents were in the process of getting to their feet as Riley, Alex, and Will burst into the living room, staggering into the arms of their respective parents, all talking at once.

    "Whoa, whoa!" Joyce cut in above the cacophony of voices.  "What happened?" she demanded as she watched Willow and Oz worriedly inspect Will's bruised neck, Xander and Anya probe Alex's ankle, and as she and Giles inspected a small gash on Riley's forehead.

    "We were attacked," Riley muttered grimly, a deadly silence falling over the group.

    "And I know that this is going to sound crazy," Alex continued, her eyes wide as her dad draped a reassuring arm over her shoulders, "but they were monsters -- something out of one of Will's movies!"

    "Worse," Will rasped, massaging his throat as he noticed the looks the parents seemed to be sharing.  "Hey, we're not lying!  We would have been toast if it hadn't been for Anne!"

    "Anne?" Giles cut in quickly.  "Who's Anne?"

    "Some girl that we met at the Bronze tonight," Alex explained, watching her parents thoughtfully.  "She's French -- and even though she's a good head shorter than me, she kicked ass-"

    "The new Slayer," Angel guessed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

    "Who's he?" Riley quickly fired back, eyeing the stranger suspiciously.

    "Dead-"

    "Angel," Willow interrupted, glaring at Xander before forcing a smile.  "He's an old friend."

    "Can't be that old," Alex added, eyeing the guy.  He looked a little older than her own age, and hot in a dark and brooding sort of way.

    "Yeah, well can we get back to the fact that we were attacked by monsters tonight that wanted to eat us?!" Will cried out shrilly, pointing to his bruised neck.

    "Vampires," Oz automatically corrected as half the room turned to glare at him.  "What?" he asked, shrugging casually.  "Don't you think that it's obviously a little too late to hide that by now?"

    "Well yeah, now it is," Xander muttered darkly as he felt his daughter tense beneath his arm.

    "Vampires?" Alex scoffed even as a deadly silence fell over the room.

    His eyes narrowing, Riley turned to his parents, the accusation in his brown eyes all to apparent.  "You knew about this?  About these 'vampires'?  And didn't tell us?"

    "Yes, well," Giles fidgeted as Joyce lay a consoling hand on his arm.

    "Honey, we never wanted for you to have to know about them," she replied honestly, including all of the kids in her gaze.

    Shaking his head silently, things began clicking into place as he saw the pain in his mom's eyes.  He knew that he should stop, let things rest -- but he couldn't now.  Not with so much of the past a lie.  "Sunnydale's big, dark secret," he guessed, nodding at his friends' parents.  "It wasn't gangs that killed off half of the senior class, was it?  It was those monsters!" he accused.  And when he got no response, Riley knew that he had guessed correctly.  "And those things killed my sister," he continued, watching as his mom blanched, tears stinging her eyes.  But strangely, it wasn't just his parents that reacted to his words.  No, everyone did -- even the stranger with the strange name.  "That's why you all lied -- because they killed her," he accused as he slowly backed away, bumping into his friends at the hall entrance.

    "Ry--" his mom began, cut off as the doorbell rang.  Frustrated by all of the mixed emotions that were swirling within him, Riley threw a frustrated glance at the door.  And in that instant, everyone realized their sole mistake of sheltering their children from the truth for so long: they had been raised with no fear of the dark and what it would always conceal.

    "NO!!" they all screamed as Riley leaned back and called out an invitation to enter by habit.  In that instant, hell broke loose as the lights went out and the house was swarmed.  Once more, screams marked the night in the small town of Sunnydale, California.

    Grunting, Buffy blocked a kick and snapped back with a punch that downed her vampire opponent.  As screams ripped through the dark air, she quickly dusted the creep before turning worried eyes to her darkened house.  After making sure that the trio had made it home alright from her hideaway in the shadows, Buffy quickly became aware of the hordes of vampires that surrounded the house.  Quickly she set to work in separating and dusting the small army, taking comfort in the knowledge that they couldn't get inside.  So much for that.

    With narrowed eyes, Buffy watched as three vampires left the house at a run, Riley and Will, unconscious, swung over shoulders and Alex struggling in the arms of the other.  Taking off at a run, her leather duster swirling around her hips, Buffy started after the vampires when another scream pierced the night from within the house.  This time she recognized it as belonging to Willow.  Biting her lip, Buffy was torn between the vampires who began unloading their cargo into a van and the darkened house.  But when she heard her mom cry out, Buffy's decision was made as she changed course and charged into the house.

    In one fluid movement Buffy took out the guard at the door and was at the entrance to what remained of the living room.  In what little light remained, Buffy quickly assessed the situation.  She could see her Mom and Giles cradling what looked like an older, unconscious Anya, Willow standing in front of them and straining to maintain a magic shield that was under heavy attack.  To the other side of them a fortyish Xander and Oz were trying to fight an out-numbered battle.  But it was the sight of Angel, exactly as she remembered him, pinned against the wall by three vampires and about to be dusted by another that got her into action.

    Darting forward into the darkened room, Buffy quickly kicked the wood from the vampire's hand and rolled away with him in the process, freeing up Angel enough to fight his own battle as she launched herself at vampire after vampire, a one-minded machine that pummeled with kicks and punches and slashed out with her stake.  At one point, one crafty vampire got past her defenses and slashed through the leather of her coat and ripped into her arm.  But Buffy merely grunted and accepted the pain, continuing to dish out the punishment for daring to attack her family and friends -- for all that she had failed them in the past.

    Reaching forward, Buffy backhanded her opponent, sending him crashing over a splintered end table.  As he staggered to his feet, Buffy took a running step and launched a kick at the vampire's neck.  Surrounded by darkness, it was the sickening crunching sound of his neck shattering under the force of her boot and the explosion of ash that confirmed that another vampire was dead.  Gasping, Buffy reached out with her senses but found that only one vampire remained -- and that one she knew she'd never again be able to fight.. or kill.

    Struggling to her feet, Joyce stumbled over broken furniture, her eyes locked on the shadowed back of their savior.  There was something about the figure.. something so familiar that cried out to her as she took in the petite, dark form cloaked in shadows, hair tumbling past her shoulders.

    "I think I have the lights," she heard her husband mutter as she reached out and squeezed the girl's arm, not knowing that she was injured.  And as the voice from her past cried out and the girl pulled and turned towards her in pain, the lights clicked on and filled the room with light.  "BUFFY!!" she gasped, stumbling back as her daughter's beautiful, pain creased eyes stared back at her, her hand tightly clasped on her arm with red blood seeping through her fingers.

    As the room fell silent as a tomb, Buffy instinctively reached forward to steady her Mom, only to watch as she pulled away in shock, staring down in horror at the blood stained hand that was reached towards her.  Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, Buffy nodded and drew her hand back.  Sighing, she began to turn away when her mother rushed her and enveloped her in a crushing hug, tears streaming down her face.

    "Oh my God, Buffy, my baby," she whispered as she pulled back and began running her shaking, weathered hands over her daughter's face and hair, reassuring herself that she was really there.  "I don't understand," she sobbed as the others slowly drew closer, tears dotting many cheeks as first Giles pushed in and crushed Buffy against him, and then she was traded off to Xander, who surprised her with his iron grip, and Willow, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

    And throughout it all, Buffy never quite met anyone's eyes or fully returned any of the hugs.  Buffy Summers is dead, Buffy Summers is dead, Buffy Summers is dead, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra.  You're the Slayer now.  And then she was released as the others slowly drew away, never quite getting too far as they stared at her in love and confusion.  Immediately the questions began, all coming at once even as they continued to reach out, gently touching her as if afraid that she would disappear with a small breath of wind.

    "I don't understand-"
    "What happened to-"
    "Where have you-"
    "They told us you were-"
    "We got your letter-"

    But it was Angel's question that finally silenced everyone as he broke through the others and stopped directly before her, no accusation and only love and compassion shining in his dark eyes.  "Buffy, why'd you do it?" he asked quietly, causing the room to fall deadly silent once more.

    For the first time, Buffy had to struggle to maintain her control as her mouth opened and closed, becoming lost in Angel's dark eyes.  Finally, she looked away and began rubbing her blood smeared hand on her leather pants.  "I couldn't let any of you be hurt again because of me -- because of my fight," she whispered quietly, the silence so thick that she thought that she could taste it.  But then she was saved as a loud groan cut through the tension.

    Slapping himself in the forehead, spell broken, Xander quickly hurried to the other end of the room and knelt beside his unconscious wife.  "Anya," he whispered worriedly as he inspected the small gash on the back of her head.

    And it was then that the missing trio was finally noticed.  "Will," Willow gasped, turning quickly as her nails dug into Oz's arm.  "Where are the kids?!" she demanded frantically as the color drained from each parent's face.

    "Drusilla took them," Buffy replied quickly, everyone turning to her once more in shock.

    "Well, we have to get them," Oz answered back, his eyes hard with determination.

    "No," Buffy broke in, meeting each in turn.  "I'll get them," she countered quickly as she turned and met her mom's tear-stained eyes.  "I'll get them all back," she promised.

    Biting her lip, Joyce felt torn like never before.  She wanted her son back, safe and sound, more than anything -- but she didn't want to have to send her daughter into danger... to save her brother.  But looking deeply into her daughter's shadowed eyes, she saw that Buffy understood her plight all too well.  She was very aware that it was the lives of her brother and the son and daughter of her best friends that were at stake -- and she would put her life at risk for them as she always had for each and every one of them time and time again.

    "We... we can help," Willow whispered tentatively, looking into the eyes of the friend that she had never stopped grieving for.

    "No," Buffy quickly replied, shaking her head firmly.  "I work alone now," she insisted, seeing fresh tears appear as she turned away and started for the door.

    "But you don't even know where to look!" Giles called after her departing back.

    "The docks," Buffy countered, disappearing out the door like a phantom.

    And in her wake a thick silence fell once again as the realization that Buffy had never died -- had set-up her own death, wanting them all to believe that she was gone while she continued the fight on her own -- began to set in.  But then the silence was broken by a single choked sob as Joyce slammed her fist angrily against her thigh.  "How could she have done something so selfish?" she whispered fiercely, blinking back tears.

    Sighing, Angel recognized the woman's defense system as it kicked in, but he couldn't just sit there.  Not anymore.  "She did it for all of you," he whispered as he turned towards the door.  "And while I agree with Anya, she has to understand that she's not alone," he stated firmly.  "I'm going to help," he threw in before taking off.

    Shaking his head, Xander muttered angrily from beside his unconscious wife.  "This sucks!" he cried in disgust, his face twisted in anger and his feeling of helplessness.  As a cop, he never had no options as action was always the key.  "Okay, just because we don't have any special abilities that keep us twenty forever, all of a sudden we're worthless and can't help our kids?!" he cried, his voice cracking as he thought of his beautiful daughter.

    "Eighteen," Giles corrected as he pinched his nose wearily, remembering the age that his slayer had unknowingly stopped aging so many years ago.  "But your wife did have a point," he added.  "We're not exactly in the shape that we were in twenty-five years ago-"

    "But we can be!" Willow chirped in excitedly, her eyes lighting up as eyes turned to their graying red-head in surprise.  "Or, at least we can be if we can find my purse in this mess," she amended as she eyed the trashed room with dismay.

    Shrugging his shoulders, Oz bent over carefully, mindful of his aching back from the good thrashing he had received, and began picking through the mess.  "Mind if I ask what's in your purse?" he asked his wife, lifting up a shattered leg of an end-table and crying out triumphantly as he snagged the very large sac.  "Although how you'd find anything in there is beyond me," he added dubiously as he tossed the bag over.

    Ignoring his last remark, Willow quickly dropped to her knees and began digging through the cavernous piece of material.  "A spell that I had been saving for just such an occasion," she explained as she withdrew a neatly folded sheet of weathered paper triumphantly.

    "So.. you were just saving it for a night where Drusilla would come back, steal our kids, and Buffy, who hasn't really been dead, needs our help to get them back," Xander summed up with a skeptical glance.

    Sighing, Giles quickly shook his head.  "A spell?" he asked doubtfully, turning back towards the aging witch before sharing knowing looks with the others.

    "Yes, one that will make us young again -- when Buffy left," she added, halting over the words.  She still couldn't believe that she wasn't dead.  After so long.

    "Yeah, but we're talking magic here, right?" Xander asked, not bothering to disguise his worry as Joyce knelt beside him and checked Anya's head.

    Sighing, Willow planted her fists angrily on her hips.  "Hey, let me put this in perspective for you... you worryworts!" she cried, scrambling for a word.  "Drusilla, the psycho vampire who likes to kill things, has our children!  Buffy... Buffy," she murmured, her voice losing energy as her eyes welled with tears once more.  "Buffy is going to help," she continued, Oz's arm wrapping around her, "but we can't let her do it alone and we can't help as we are now," she pointed out, scrubbing her tears away.  "Besides," she added stubbornly.  "I've gotten better!  Remember what I did for Angel?"

    "Yeah, with Will's help-" Xander began as Joyce smacked his arm.  "Ow ow okay!" he whined.

    Scowling, Joyce shook her head curtly at him before turning her eyes to Willow.  "Do what you need to do and then go help my baby.  I'll stay here with Anya," she added before meeting her husband's eyes.  "Just bring back our kids -- all of them."

    With the bright moonlight lighting her way, Buffy made quick time to the familiar warehouse district of Sunnydale, the light ocean breeze fanning out her blond hair.  But with each small click of her heeled boots, her thoughts raced back over what had happened -- the feeling of once more being held by her mother, the warmth of the friends that she had missed for so long... Angel's unexpected presence.  Her masquerade that had lasted for the majority of her life was over, which left her future uncertain.  Oh, she knew what she had to do.  The fact that she was even in this mess was proof enough of the danger her very presence was to those that she ultimately fought for.  It was because of her history with Drusilla that the Scooby Gang's next generation was endangered -- that her brother had been taken.  Oh, she knew that after she rescued them, something that was guaranteed for she had faced worse than Drusilla, she would be gone once again -- and this time she had a feeling that there would be no search for her.  But the question was, how could she leave them again?

    "Slayer..."

    "Present," Buffy called out automatically, pulling away from her thoughts as her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings.  The first group of vanquished vampires had stated that Drusilla would be waiting for the gang at the docks -- and Buffy had nothing better to go on.  As her eyes narrowed on a wide, shadowed dock that branched off over the darkened sea, she caught the slight movement of her opponents.  Nodding slightly, Buffy started down the dock, the wooden boards creaking beneath her slight weight as she warily stepped around stacked crates that towered above her.

    As she drew closer, Buffy could make out a couple of vampires leaning casually against some stacks before her.  But what was more was that Buffy could sense more vampires all around her, undoubtedly hiding behind the crates.  She had walked into an ambush -- knowingly.  Throughout the years she had faced worse and even though the chances weren't always the greatest, she needed information.  Idly the possibility of overconfidence flashed through her mind, but it was quickly banished as she threw a cocky grin at the thugs.  She was the Slayer.  

    Stopping a few feet before the vampires, Buffy watched as one casually lit a cigarette, the flicker of flame revealing sharp fangs and protruding brows.  Forcing a smile, Buffy cocked one leather clad hip, her long leather duster parted to each side, hands resting casually on her hips and fingers inches from her hidden stakes.

    "Slayer?" the one with the cigarette asked once again before taking a long drag, smoke spiraling up in a turbulent gray cloud.

    "I answered once already, didn't I?" Buffy fired back, impatiently brushing away the cloud of smoke.  "Now where's Drusilla and my friends?" she continued, her voice hard as she watched the other vampires begin to slide from their hiding places from the corner of her eyes.

    "We've been waiting for you," the other grinned, ignoring her question as he licked his lips obscenely.

    "Evidently," Buffy agreed as she turned now and openly observed her opponents.  "Now where are they?"

    "Not here," the vamp threw back as he took a long drag on the cigarette.  "At the doorway," he continued cryptically.

    "The doorway?" Buffy asked, arching one slim eyebrow at the guy.

    "The doorway," the vampire agreed, grinning broadly as he tossed his cigarette to the wooden dock, extinguishing it with a sharp twist of his heel.

    "Well," she shrugged as she quickly snagged two stakes from their spots and brandished them to the gathering crowd, realizing that she was getting nowhere fast, "shall we get this party started?"

    And with that, Buffy got down to work doing what she did best: kicking ass.  For how long the battle lasted, Buffy didn't know for she had turned into a finely tuned slaying machine, barely tiring as vampire after vampire disappeared in a cloud of fine ash, blocking kicks and punches while throwing her own, always holding her own as she worked through what seemed an endless stream of opponents: young and old, male and female alike, she faced them all.

    Gasping, Buffy ducked a wild punch, side stepped a kick while lashing out with her stake, causing yet another cloak of ash to envelop her.  But just as she was about to take on another four, a large vampire dove off a tall stack of crates behind her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and pummeling them both to the hard wood.  Grunting, Buffy felt her breath expel from her lungs in one painful rush of air as she felt cold metal wrap twice around her neck before pulling tight, cutting off her airway as she was jerked backwards and lifted to her feet.  With no breath left to cry out with, Buffy concentrated on lifting her hands to the thick chain that choked her, struggling to pull it loose even as she side-kicked out with her feet, keeping the other vampires from getting too close.

    Growling, the vampire with the cigarette watched with narrowed eyes as two of his bigger guys worked with keeping the chain taut around the slayer's neck while struggling to stay away from her deadly kicks.  "Ah, this is friggin' ridiculous!" he grunted as he reached forward and seized a long 2x4 plank that had broken loose from the dock.  Flexing his arms, he took the stance of a pro-league hitter, waiting for an opening before darting in and swinging with all of his might.  Grinning, he listened to the crack as the wood splintered over the back of the slayer's pretty little blond head.  Instantly the girl went limp and crashed to the dock.  Yelling, the head vampire quickly motioned to another vampire who dashed forward and snapped a pair of the boss' special, reinforced manacles around her tiny wrists.  But even as he began scampering away, the Slayer was already beginning to move.  "What does it take to kill you?" he growled, seizing up the splintered remains of the board.

    Meanwhile, Buffy's world was one filled with sickening colors that bled together and seemed to move against her.  Blinking her eyes against the pain, Buffy struggled to her knees before the chain tightened once more around her neck, yanking her back along the dock.  This time, something was holding her hands behind her back and nothing prevented the cold metal from biting into the delicate skin of her neck, cinching the skin even as bits of rough wooden dock broke away and pierced and tore through her clothing, ripping her skin and staining it with her blood.  But through it all Buffy never once stopped lashing out with her feet, fighting out against the world.  But then, the chain around her neck fell loose as rough hands grabbed her arms and painfully heaved her to feet that wouldn't hold her.  Coughing, she had the chance to draw in one ragged, burning breath of air before she felt as though her head had once more been used as a baseball by another pro player, the wood splintering over her already pounding head, as she tipped forward and fell for what seemed forever before the dark, cold ocean water swallowed her.

    "Oh, shit," one of the vampire's gasped, watching as the Slayer disappeared in a spray of dark, filmy water.  "What'd ya do that for?" he quickly growled, turning to glare at the fledgling who was proudly holding the board as though he had just won the World Series.

    "I hit her like you did!" the vamp chortled, grinning broadly.

    "Idiot!" the vampire hissed, advancing slowly and dangerously on the younger vampire.  "She wanted her alive!" he growled before turning stormy eyes back to the rolling sea below.  Sighing, he quickly shook his head before glaring once more at the vampire.  "Let's get out of here," he ordered to those of them that remained, turning and striding quickly back to the mainland.  "She'll be waiting."

    For the first time in a long time, Buffy felt herself begin to panic as she tried to weakly kick out and propel her to the surface, her lungs burning with the need for oxygen.  But the last blow to her head had been too much and only confusion remained as she didn't even know which way was up in the black ocean water.  In that moment, Buffy felt helplessness consume her as she realized that she was finally going to die as she felt herself begin to black out -- until the feeling of two strong arms wrapping tightly around her focused her briefly.

    As the arms held her tightly against another's body, she felt the water stir around her as her savior propelled them through the murky depths.  Finally, when she knew that she could take no more, she felt the water finally part around her as the dark night welcomed her once again.  Gasping in greedy mouthfuls of air, Buffy's panicked eyes took in the dark underside of the dock.  Shivering uncontrollably in her savior's arms as she was turned, her chest pressed against that of her savior, Buffy looked into Angel's own panicked brown eyes.

    "Shh, shh," Angel hissed, his eyes worriedly searching her face.  She had never looked so young and vulnerable as she noisily gasped for breath, her eyes wild and clouded.  "Shh!" Angel hissed again, sure that the vampires would hear her ragged breathing.  But Buffy was beyond the point of hearing or understanding, and Angel finally understood this as he filled his lungs with air that he would never need and pressed his lips tightly against hers, using his tongue to force her mouth open as he began to breathe into her, giving her the oxygen that she needed.  And all the while, Angel stared into her beautiful, pain-filled eyes that had widened in shock, holding her tightly against him as they floated in the dark waters.  Time seemed to pass unnoticed as he breathed for her until she finally pulled away.

    Head spinning painfully, Buffy found herself lost in Angel's eyes.  In that instant, with her body aching and bleeding, frozen and adrift in the ocean, her head feeling like swiss cheese and being held in the dead vampire's arms -- it was then that she knew without a doubt that she had never, never stopped loving him.  She had loved Riley, but that love had never been the deep, soul connecting love that she had with Angel.  He had always had her heart.

    "BUFFY!"

    Finally breaking his eyes away from hers, Angel cocked his head as once more Xander and the others' panicked voices drifted to them.  He knew that something had happened in that instant, something important between he and the Slayer, but it was quickly pushed away as his concern overtook him once more.  Buffy was in bad shape.  "Over here!" he yelled, his voice surprising them both as he tightened his grip around her small waist, in between her handcuffed arms.  "Sounds like the cavalry is here," he whispered quietly, listening as the excited voices drew closer -- and as Buffy's expression dimmed.  "Just hold on," he whispered, kissing her forehead gently before pushing away from the dock support he had been holding and swimming slowly out from under the wooden expanse.

    "Angel!" Xander called, this time from right above him.

    Craning his neck, Angel looked up to see Xander and Oz leaning over the side of the dock, arms outstretched -- an early twenties Xander and Oz.  Doing a double take, Angel simply floated and stared for a few seconds.

    "Quick, pass her up here," Xander ordered, breaking into Angel's reverie as he worriedly gestured at Buffy who was lolling against him.

    Nodding, Angel gently hefted her a little as both Xander and Oz snagged her under each arm, wincing as the cuffs pulled against her wrists, and as they gently lifted her until she was sitting on the dock between them.  Which was when Buffy finally got a good look at the faces of Xander and Oz.  Instantly, her eyes clouded further as Xander gently leaned her against his arm, tenderly brushing thick, heavy tendrils of wet hair from her face.

    "Xander?" she whispered, tears stinging her eyes.  But the shock mixed in with everything else finally became too much for her as Buffy finally gave in and allowed the darkness to claim her.

    "Buffy!" Willow cried out, pulling up short on the dock, her hand pressed tightly against her mouth as she took in the sight of her best friend, soaked and slumped in Xander's arms.

    "Here, give her to me," Giles ordered as he hurried forward and took Xander's place, cradling the girl that he loved like a daughter, tears stinging his eyes as he took in the huge red welts that circled her neck and the blood that seemed to seep with water from different places on her body.  "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?" he whispered quietly, his heart aching for his slayer as he watched Oz and Xander help to pull Angel up onto the dock.  "You're not alone," he added as Angel crawled forward and gently pushed Giles away, turning Buffy in his arms until he had access to her cuffed hands.

    "What happened?" Willow asked worriedly, tears dripping down her cheeks as she took in the damage.

    Grunting slightly, Angel pulled on the cuff chain and then jerked it tightly, breaking the chain and freeing the unconscious girl's hands.  "She was hit on the head one time too many," he responded grimly as he gently and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.  "She'll be alright -- she just needs somewhere to sleep and heal."

    "Then let's bring her home," Giles responded, standing tall once again as he led the others back to their vehicle.  He couldn't help but feel that it was just like old times as he looked at the young faces of those he was once responsible for -- until he remembered the son who had come to fill the void that Buffy had left.  No, times had definitely changed, he thought sadly as he turned to survey the empty dock.  "We shall bring you home, Riley," he whispered quietly, his heart aching for the only son he'd ever known.  "I promise."

    Groaning, Riley slowly stirred as he felt soft hands gently smooth the hair on his forehead.  "Ow..." he hissed, finally becoming aware of himself once more as he felt the rough grit of dirt press against his cheek.  His eyes blinking open, Riley noted that he seemed to be lying on a hard, craggy stone surface, as he brought a heavy hand to his aching head.  "What's going on?" he murmured, his eyes finally settling on Alex's worried frown, a dim halo of light illuminating her dark, mussed hair as he slowly tried to push himself up and against a wall, his head pounding.

    "Thank God you're awake," was Alex's whispered reply as she scooted closer to him.  

    "We were starting to think that you were never going to wake up," Will whispered from Riley's other side.  Turning, Riley took in the crusted blood that seemed to originate from a nasty cut on Will's forehead, almost hidden by his wild, spiked red hair.  Quickly, Will reached to his side and pulled out Riley's thin, wire-rimmed glasses that were only slightly bent from the earlier scuffle, and passed them to their rightful owner.

    "Where are we?" Riley asked again, adjusting his glasses as he craned his head, taking in their enclosure.  Frowning, he saw that they were sitting in a large metal cage, the kind seen in circuses that held dangerous lions or tigers.  Beyond the bars, he watched in curiosity as various dark shapes moved in the large cavern that they occupied, roaring torches providing the only illumination.  "What's going on?" he repeated, tensing sore muscles.

    "Why, you're my guests."

    Surprised, Riley felt his friends jerk back and crowd closer to him against the wall, the other three walls of bars open to the cave as one of the shadows finally broke away from the rest and approached them.  As it drew closer, Riley saw that it was a young woman, so thin that her arms looked like muscled bones attached to her sockets, a wispy black dress floating around her very pale form as long black hair cascaded down her shoulders.

    "Well, who in the hell are you?" Alex asked, her voice filled with angry sarcasm as she eyed the woman skeptically, even as she received a sharp elbow from Riley beside her.

    But her words only caused their captor to laugh gleefully, clapping her hands together as though she were a child that was presented with a new, enchanting toy.  "Oh, I think I like you!" she laughed, smiling as she bent down and peered at the beautiful young woman, gently running her long, sharp nails across the bars that separated them.  "So spirited like your father..."

    "Well, if you know who my father is," Alex cut in stubbornly, her eyes narrowing, "then you know that he's Captain of the police force here in Sunnydale and that you're in deep-"

    "Not always," the woman interrupted, her smile growing chilly.  "When I knew him, when he was your own age and younger, he was nothing more than a scared little boy, Xander was -- all of your parents were," she smiled, chilling the three friends to the bone.  "They were nothing more than sidekicks to the Slayer -- little dolls to play with."

    At this, Riley felt his own eyes narrow as he slowly shook his head.  The lady was obviously not all there -- she acted as though she knew their parents when they were younger, but she couldn't be more than a few years older than he was.  But one thing she said had captured his attention, heightened his curiosity despite the situation.  "That's the second time tonight that someone has mentioned this 'Slayer,'" he stated quietly, meeting the woman's cold eyes.  "What is it?"

    Smiling, Drusilla felt her laugh bubble out of her as she danced back and forth before the iron bars.  "You don't know what the Slayer is?" she laughed, grabbing one of the bars and slowly sliding down its length until she was eye level with her captives.  "They didn't tell you... who your sister was?" she asked, her voice dropping low as shock registered on the boy's features.

    Yawning, Buffy stretched out leisurely in her bed, the last remnants of sleep slowly drifting away.  Smiling sleepily, she shifted under her familiar, plump comforter as she watched her bedroom sparkle with early morning light.  Sighing, she slowly pushed herself up until she was sitting in her large bed, adjusting the old tee-shirt that she was wearing as she aimlessly scratched at one bandaged hand, her eyes locking on her best friend's sleeping form in the chair beside her.

    Grinning, Buffy swept her long blond hair over her shoulder before gently reaching out and shaking her friend, her smile broadening as Willow's eyes instantly snapped open, shifting so quickly that she almost slid from the chair.  Laughing, Buffy quickly shook her head.  "Willow, what are you doing here?" she asked, stretching out her stiff muscles, idly trying to remember why she was so stiff and sore.

    "Buffy?" Willow asked, her eyes growing wide as she took in her friend's bright grin.  Instantly, tears sprang to her eyes as she realized once more all that she had lost when Buffy had disappeared all of those years ago, all that they had missed out on together.  Without another thought, Willow quickly sprang forward and crushed her petite friend to her.

    "Willow?" Buffy asked once more, this time concern coloring her voice as she returned the fierce hug.  "Are you okay?" she asked as her friend drew away before slowly settling on the large bed beside her.  "And what are you wearing?" she continued, wrinkling her nose as her friend's clothes finally registered in her mind.  Instead of the usual billowing hippie skirt and assorted fun shirts that her friend usually wore, she was wearing a more conservative pair of dress pants and a wrinkled blouse that reminded her of something her mom would wear.

    But Willow seemed not to hear her as she instead quickly searched Buffy's eyes with her own, the tears still dripping down her pale cheeks.  "Are you okay?" she asked, gently reaching forward to brush her hand against a small cut that seemed to be shrinking before her eyes.

    "Huh?" Buffy asked as she finally took the opportunity to take stock of herself.  Looking down, she saw that one hand was topped with a white pad of gauze while the flimsy material was wrapped heavily around her wrists.  Confused, she quickly reached forward and peeled the gauze away, slightly surprised and confused by the fading red lines that circled her wrists -- obviously some pretty deep cuts at onne point.  Then, she lifted her hand and gently fingered the spot that Willow had touched, wincing at the small flare of pain.  Moving further back, she noted a slight throbbing that was emanating from the back of her head, and reaching further, she found a small bump hidden amongst her golden tresses.  Smiling wryly, she could feel various other places in her body where there were slight twinges of pain, like around her neck, but all in all, nothing serious.  "Some hell of a fight, huh?" she asked absently, not really remembering where all of the bumps had come from.  "But no biggie," she quickly finished, brushing her friend's concern away as Willow gently took Buffy's hand in her own, surprising the small blond.

    "Oh Buffy, you don't know how good it is to see you again," Willow murmured, the tears streaking even quicker down her pale cheeks as she squeezed the hand that she held.  "We thought that we had lost you..."

    Confused, Buffy quickly shook her head.  "Will, I'm fine," she quickly protested, starting to grow uncomfortable as the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something pretty dang important pulled at her mind.

    "Why did you do it?" Willow continued, her frown turning into a look of betrayal and hurt, causing Buffy to pull back even further.  "Why did you leave?"

    And then, as Buffy quickly pulled her hand free from Willow's and hopped from her bed, all of her memories came rushing back.  "Oh God," she whispered, turning, almost swaying on her feet as her oversized tee-shirt swished against her bare legs as she quickly backed away from her friend until her back ran painfully into her closed bedroom door with such force that a framed picture fell from her bedroom wall and shattered on the floor.  Turning her head quickly, she took in her bedroom, noting that not a thing had changed since she had left -- all exactly as she had left it.  And then, as she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs behind her, she watched as her friend hesitantly climbed to her feet, looking exactly as she did all twenty-five years ago.

    "Buffy!" someone called frantically from outside her door as the handle was turned and pushed against Buffy's back.

    Stumbling away, Buffy swiveled and stopped dead in her tracks as she met her mom's beautiful hazel eyes -- the same hazel eyes that had watched over her during her first twenty-two years of growing up -- and the same hazel eyes that now stared at her with such a fierce love that Buffy nearly drowned beneath it.  And then, as Giles crowded into the room beside her mother, Buffy took another step back, feeling as though an ocean wave was going to swallow her whole: they looked exactly the same as when she left them all, twenty-five years ago.

    "Buffy," Giles quickly repeated as he saw the girl's eyes roll back in her head.  Moving quickly with an agility that he had lost many years ago, up until the previous evening, the ex-watcher caught the small girl before she hit the floor, turning to the others in surprise.  "Um," he stuttered as he tried to balance Buffy with one hand and reach down with the other to pull her tee-shirt back down around her legs where it had inched up during her fall.  "You may want to fetch the others," he grunted as he lifted Buffy and gently placed her back on the bed.  "I don't suppose that this will last long," he finished, pulling the covers back up as he waited for his Slayer to awaken.

    "My sister?" Riley asked, his voice low as he met the woman's dark eyes.  "What do you know about my sister?"

    "Only that I wanted to skewer her very, very slowly," Drusilla laughed, her eyes gleaming as she slowly brandished her long, pointed fingernails.

    "But why?" Alex asked, unable to stop the quiver in her voice.

    "Because she was the Slayer," the woman said, humming quietly as her eyes slid shut, slowly swaying back and forth as though caught in a dream.  "She was the one girl, born in every generation," she chanted quietly, "to fight against the evil in the world... to fight me," she hissed, her face changing before their eyes until they were looking into the eyes of a monster.

    "Buffy," Giles whispered quietly, patiently as his eyes slipped back to all those gathered in the darkened bedroom, the shades keeping out the powerful sunlight.  "Buffy," he tried again, gently waving the small capsule of smelling salts beneath her tiny nose.  This time, he was awarded with a sharp gasp as Buffy finally awoke, her eyes flying open as she quickly lashed out in reflex, sitting up quickly in the bed.

    "Easy, easy," Angel quickly soothed from beside her, firmly wrapping his arms around her and pinning her hands to her side as her chest heaved, her eyes wide as she took in her audience.  Everyone was gathered in her small bedroom, Giles and her mother standing beside her bed, the former having quickly vacated his seat beside her in hopes of avoiding her thrashing.  Beside them were Willow, Oz, Xander, and Anya, all looking on curiously as Angel patiently worked to calm the startled Slayer.  "It's okay Buffy -- you're fine," he soothed as her struggles finally stopped, ignoring Giles' glare at his protective hold as her eyes slipped from face to face.

    "Heh, and I thought that Slayers didn't faint," Xander joked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room.

    Instantly, Buffy felt herself relax a little more as she half-glared at the young man.  "Yeah, well we're usually not shoved into a room with people that are way younger than they should be," she shot back, pulling away from Angel as she surveyed the group warily.

    "Sorry Buffy," Willow whispered with a small smile.  "That one's my fault," she explained as she gestured to the others.  "We couldn't let you go off on your own to find our kids -- so I used a spell that I had found a long time ago to make us younger again.  So that we could help."

    "Some spell," Buffy muttered, showing a small grin as she shook her head slowly -- and then the grin slipped as her eyes locked on a shadow, leaning against the far wall of her bedroom.  "Spike?" she asked, surprise filling her voice once more as the shape slowly moved, stepping forward into the light to reveal the bleached vampire.  "What are you doing here?  I thought I told you not to come!"

    "And miss the party?" Spike replied, arching his eyebrow at the girl.  "I bloody well don't think so," he laughed shortly, straightening his long, leather jacket as all eyes turned towards him.  He had received much the same question when he had arrived during the night, entering the house to find it empty save Joyce and Anya.  Then, chaos had erupted as the little group arrived with the Slayer all unconscious and bleeding in his sire's arms.  "And besides," he added quietly, his expression turning serious, "I think that I found out some more information that might be helpful -- may explain why Dru grabbed the little ones."

    Instantly, the room filled with a deadly silence as once more Buffy slowly nodded at the bleached vamp.  "I'm listening."

    Once Riley's breathing had returned to normal over seeing the hideous mask slip over their captor's face, he slowly nodded at the laughing creature.  "What are you?"

    "What does it look like I am?" Drusilla returned, her grin broadening as she flicked her tongue against one sharpened fang.

    Drawing back, Will slowly closed his eyes before focusing back on the woman.  "Like a vampire," he whispered, his voice hoarse.  And for once, his friends didn't laugh at his wild suggestion.

    "Smart boy," she whispered approvingly, licking her lips once more before shifting back to her human face.  "Just like your mother," she laughed before straightening again.

    "How do.. do you know our parents?" Alex asked, willing her voice to remain steady as she eyed the vampire with disdain.

    "Oh, we're old friends, your parents and I," Drusilla smiled, bending down and slowly licking the bars that divided her from her prey.  "They called themselves the Scooby Gang, and helped dear Buffy with her slaying-"

    "What was she like?" Riley cut in, leaning forward cautiously as he searched the woman's face.  "What was my sister like?"

    At this, Drusilla laughed once more, the sound of it echoing off of the large, stone cavern.  "Oh, you know," she laughed, waving her words away like smoke on the wind.  "The heroine who was willing to risk life and limb to destroy the forces of evil with a wooden stake or her biting wit," she mocked, her eyes like fire.  "So boring, really."

    Sighing, Spike quickly reached inside his jacket and searched for his cigarettes -- until he caught the slight shake of JJoyce's head.  Understanding, he scowled quickly before leaving them untouched.  Turning, he met the Slayer's curious eyes.  "After talking with you in France, I did some thinking," he explained.  Then, feeling antsy at doing nothing, he quickly turned and began to pace in the small room, the others making way for his route.  "I don't think that she was coming back here to Sunnydale for revenge at all -- well, not totally," he amended as he absently rubbed his healing wound from where he had been staked by Dru just a few short weeks ago.

    "Why not?" Buffy prompted, noting his movements.

    "Well, a few months back Dru and I found a spell that could recreate the Hellmouth here in Sunnyhell," he explained, knowing that now he had everyone's full attention.  "All that was needed was the blood of a slayer."

    "Then why did she come back here?" Giles quickly interrupted, a frown spreading across his face.  "Everyone thinks that Buffy is dead-"

    "Do you know how impossible it is to find the Slayer nowadays?" Spike cut in, throwing a bemused glance at Buffy.  "Ever since Buffy 'died', no one has been able to hunt the Slayer as before," he explained quickly.  "In the past, the Slayer was always rooted to one location, making her a bloody sitting duck as she stayed to fight the good fight and protect whatever place needed protectin'.  Now, this 'new' slayer is always on the move!  By the time word reaches the Baddies out to get her blood that she's in one place, she's already gone again!"

    At this, Xander slowly shook his head, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits.  "So you were helping Drusilla hunt the Slayer to reopen the Hellmouth?" he asked in disgust, his fists balling up in anger.

    "Well, yeah!" Spike agreed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  "And why not?  I'm bad, you dolt!" he chuckled, rolling his eyes.. until he realized that he was the only one laughing.  Clearing his throat, he quickly flushed as he shook his head.  "Eh, well I'm here, aren't I?"

    Sighing, Joyce quickly shook her head.  "Well why take the kids?" she demanded, feeling her husband's arm wrap reassuringly around her shoulders.

    Shrugging his shoulders, Spike slowly began to reach for his cigarettes once more until he remembered Joyce's earlier indication.  "How should I know," he muttered, looking for something else to keep his hands busy.  "I didn't say that I thought she was here completely for revenge -- bloody bat probably thinks that the blood of a Slayer's family would be enough."

    At this, Joyce quickly put a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.  "She's going to use Riley to try and open the Hellmouth," she whispered in sudden understanding.

    "Not if I can help it," Buffy whispered, her eyes glinting with determination.

    "Did you kill her?" Alex asked softly, feeling Riley stiffen beside her as she gently took one of his bound hands with her own.

    "The Slayer?" Drusilla asked, her eyes focusing back on the trio as she straightened and slowly moved along the outside of the cage, her captives' eyes following her every step.  "No, not yet," she whispered, her voice soft and musical as the world seemed to dissolve around them.  "After she made this town all boring she left.  Word is, she was killed some months later -- all alone," she laughed as the group jerked back in surprise.

    Sighing, Buffy slowly paced the darkened living room, noting idly how the debris from last night's battle had been cleared away, the windows boarded as it actually resembled someone's living space once more.  Shaking her head slowly, her damp hair from her shower swirling around her, Buffy faced her friends and family.  "We have to figure out where Drusilla's hiding out."

    "You don't think that she'd be dumb enough to go back to one of her old haunts, do you?" Xander asked, raising his eyebrow skeptically from his seat on the loveseat, Anya snuggled up in his arms.

    "But are any of them even still around?" the ex-demon asked absently.

    "Anya has a good point," Giles conceded as he rubbed his brow thoughtfully.  "The old factory was torn down many years ago..."

    "Well if not any of the old hangouts, where else could she be hiding?" Buffy interrupted impatiently, stopping in her tracks as she readjusted her old, familiar white tank.  She had just been lucky that her mom had never thrown away any of her old clothes, meaning that she had a wide variety of garments to pick from.  Now, back in her familiar black pants and white tank, her slaying gear, Buffy was ready to go and get the trio back.. if they could only figure out where to look.

    "They could be anywhere," Willow offered in a small voice, her eyes growing wide as Oz gently squeezed her hand.

    "Yeah," Xander agreed, rubbing his head wearily.  "Sunnydale has grown since you've left, Buffy," he admitted, meeting Buffy's glance, "and there's tons of places to hide out now -- anywhere from over by the docks where you were last night to abandoned buildings, warehouses, caves, the forest..."

    Sighing, Buffy slowly nodded her head.  They were right.  A lot had changed since she had last been in Sunnydale, but that also meant that a lot had changed for Drusilla too, since she had last been there.  "Spike," Buffy called, turning to the vampire, "does she have to be anywhere special to perform this spell that you found?"

    Shrugging his shoulders, Spike absently played with a lighter as he thought back to the spell.  "I didn't exactly study the thing -- it was Dru's pet project," he admitted.  

    Growling in frustration, Buffy shook her head sharply -- and stopped as the vampire's words from the night before came back to her.  "The doorway."

    "Pardon me?" Giles quickly replied, his forehead crinkling.

    "The vampire said last night that they were at the doorway-"

    "What doorway?" Willow asked, puzzled.

    "The door to the old Hellmouth makes the most sense," Spike cut in as a light bulb seemed to snap on for everyone in the room.

    "Of course," Buffy muttered, snapping her finger absently.  "The ruins to the old high school library," she nodded, burying her memories of the last time that she had been there.... the time when Riley had died and her world had fallen apart.

    "Um.. not anymore," Giles broke in hesitantly, frowning at his slayer.  "The ruins were torn down long ago."

    "Well what's there now?" Buffy demanded, certain that was where they would find the missing kids.

    "Nothing," Oz broke in, shaking his head quickly.  "Just a parking lot."

    Sighing, Buffy quickly closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against her throbbing head.  So much had changed... and without anything else to fear since the door to the Hellmouth had been erased, the city no longer needed such a reminder of what stalked the streets of their town.  Then, her eyes snapped open as something else occurred to her.  "Well, what about below it?"

    Sighing, Alex quickly shook her head, waves of black hair silhouetting her proud frame.  This was getting old -- fast.  "Well, what do you want us for?" she asked, getting right to the point.  If she was just going to kill them, the least that she could do was get it over with instead of making them sit here and listen to her rant -- even if they were learning stuff from it -- knowledge that their parents never trrusted them with.

    Smiling, Drusilla slowly turned her eyes from one to the other until they rested on Riley's dark eyes.  "For your blood," she whispered, freezing him with her glare.

    Quickly the group set to work spreading aging maps across the dining room table, shoving placemats and decorations aside.  "I always knew that these would someday come in handy," Giles muttered to himself, adjusting his glasses as he pored over the creased papers.  "I made it a point to keep updated maps of the tunnel system that runs below the city... after you left," he added, meeting Buffy's hard green eyes.

    "Well let's see what we can find," Buffy replied quietly as she tore her eyes away from all of the questions that she saw hidden in her watcher's eyes.  Quickly she traced a slender finger along the length of tunnels until they rested on a long tunnel that seemed to end right before the place where the old library would have stood.

    "Now who wants to bet," Xander asked, watching Buffy's thoughtful glance, "that there's a door at the end of that tunnel that opens up into Drusilla's new hideout?"

    As everyone moved quickly around the house, readying the preparations for that night, Buffy slowly paced the quiet living room, her eyes skipping to the many pictures that dotted the familiar room.  It had already been decided that that night, when darkness had fallen, Buffy would lead the others down into the tunnels.  She couldn't convince them to let her go alone, and instead Angel, Spike, Giles, Xander, Willow and Oz would accompany her.  Her mother and Anya would be waiting by the surface, the get-away vehicle ready to go in case a hasty retreat was needed.  Now, the others were just making the necessary preparations to make sure that the plan would go without a hitch.  

    But then Buffy's thoughts drifted away from the coming night as she focused on a smiling picture of Riley, tucked between Giles and her mom in a graduation cap, obviously taken those four years ago at his high school graduation.  It was a picture that was never taken of Buffy.  Her father hadn't even come to her graduation -- probably didn't even realize that she was graduating, and she had made her mother leave town.  It was the day that she blew up the school.. her second one in a number of years.  In Riley's picture, they looked like the perfect, happy family.

    Sighing, Buffy sensed another enter the room and move silently until they were standing beside her.  "What's he like?" she asked, knowing that her mother knew who she asked about.

    "Your brother is wonderful," Joyce murmured, her voice filled with obvious love and pride.  "He's twenty-two now, the same age as you when you left -- a senior at the University of California here in Sunnydale.  He's majoring in art-"

    "Art?" Buffy asked, surprise registering in her voice.

    "Yes, and he's quite good," Joyce continued quietly, pride at her son's accomplishments filling her voice.  "I suppose that he inherited it from me-"

    "But what's he like?" Buffy asked again, turning to meet her mom's sparkling eyes, her face expressionless.

    Nodding slowly in understanding, Joyce took a deep breath before looking at the photographs that lined the walls once more.  "He's a perfectly normal young man," she whispered, tears burning her eyes.  "He's so kind and so smart -- very quiet at times, but he loves his friends so much..."  Here, Joyce chuckled quietly as she wiped away her tears.  "Oh, Will and Alex have been his best friends ever since they were in diapers -- before that even.  It was a great surprise to find out that I was pregnant, an accident that we've never regretted, right around the same time as Anya and Willow, but somehow it just seemed right..."

    "Like the next generation of us?" Buffy whispered, her eyes moving from one happy photo to the next.  "Where they were able to have everything that we didn't," she added, tears filling her own eyes as once more she realized that this brother of hers was everything she wasn't -- everything she couldn't give to her mother was born in this child.  Not only did he follow in her footsteps with his love of art, but he was normal.  How many times, after first learning of her destiny, had her mom begged her to just turn her back on it -- to just be normal?  But she wasn't normal -- she never could have been.

    Sighing, Joyce slowly nodded her head.  "A normal childhood and adolescence.. a normal life," she agreed.  "Buffy," she continued, turning to face her daughter as she gently took her hands into her own, "when I opened your letter a part of me died that day," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.  "Riley was never meant to replace you.  Nothing could ever have replaced the hole that your leaving left in my heart -- but his presence helped to ease the pain and remind us that there was still a life worth living for."

    "But they said that you never spoke of me to him," Buffy whispered, her own tears burning behind her eyes as she turned to survey the dark room.  "And there are no pictures..." as if I was some big, dark, horrible secret, Buffy continued silently to herself.  As though she were a part of Sunnydale's deep secret that no one ever spoke of, her memory buried away like yesterday's trash.

    "We didn't speak of you to anyone, including each other," Joyce admitted, kneading her lip with her blunt teeth as she slowly shook her head.  "But Buffy, how could we?" she asked, forcing her daughter to meet her gaze once more.  "When you left you took so much of each of us with you that it was too painful to even mention your name."

    "I'm sorry," Buffy whispered, the tears burning at her eyes.  And then, as her mother looked at her as only a mother could, a look filled with compassion, understanding, and a never-ending love, Buffy felt the brutal dam that held her emotions crack slightly, letting just a little of the pain that she had always felt since leaving trickle past.  "I'm sorry," she sobbed.  Instantly her mother wrapped her arms around her and sheltered her from that pain as only a mother could.  And in that instant, with her face pressed against her mother's chest, her tears soaking through the thin material of her shirt, and as her mom's scent filled her nose, Buffy knew that it was worth it.

    "I know, baby, I know," Joyce shushed, oblivious to everything but her daughter's pain.  "I am too," she admitted as she hugged her closer.  "I'm so sorry that you had to spend over half of your short life alone, while we went on without you, filling our homes once more with love and laughter," she whispered, the tears streaking down as her baby pulled away and stared at her mother in confusion.  "It makes me feel like a horrible mother," she half sobbed, half laughed as Buffy grinned broadly, wiping her own tears away.

    "No," Buffy countered, reaching a hand up to gently wipe away her mom's tears, "you're a wonderful mother.  You were doing just as I asked of you."

    Smiling, Joyce slowly nodded her head in agreement.  While she knew that a lot of the hurt couldn't be erased in a single afternoon, she also knew that she and her daughter had come to an understanding.  Buffy left because she felt she had to, in order to protect all those that she loved.  And while she lived alone in pain and suffering, she did it so her family could be happy and lead new lives.  It was a sacrifice she made and the reasoning behind letting them think that she had died.  For otherwise, they never could have gotten on with life without her.  "Well," Joyce conceded as she gently smoothed her daughter's beautiful blond hair, "just remember that you're not alone any more."

    Sighing, Riley kicked aimlessly at the pebbles that dotted the hard stone floor, listening as they ticked hollowly off one another, scattering in every direction to ping off the cold, iron bars of their cell.  It had been hours since their talk with their captor, Drusilla, as some of her minions called her.  Since then they had been left alone in their dark prison, helpless to do anything but sit, watch, and wait.  For what, they could only fear.

    "What do you think she meant?" Riley finally asked his quiet friends, his eyes sweeping over the large cavern once more.  It seemed to be a natural, large square cavern of craggy stone that dipped out of hidden shadows.  It was bare save for three focal points of activity: their prison, which sat opposite of an ovaled doorway that broke off into darkness directly across from them (focal point number two), and another archway that led off into darkness to their right (focal point number three).  Here and there the seeping darkness was obliterated by a few brightly glowing torches, illuminating the dark figures that moved with a grace that defied humanity: vampires.

    "Which part?" Will asked quietly as he gently picked at the flaking blood that dotted his burning scalp.

    "The blood part," was Riley's solemn reply as his dark brown eyes locked with those of his friends.

    "I'd rather not guess," was Will's quiet reply, his hand dropping from his forehead as his eyes darted back and forth to the monsters that threw occasional, hungry glances in their direction.

    Sighing loudly, Alex stretched aching muscles as she threw her red-headed friend a disbelieving glance.  "You, Will, of all people, should know exactly what she was talking about," she muttered, her tone a mix of sarcasm and anger.

    "What's that supposed to mean?" he quickly retorted, matching her stony stare before guiltily turning his eyes away.

    "Well, going on the assumption that vampires do exist," she continued, her tone full of vicious sarcasm, "and I don't know about you but I'm really starting to think twice about all of those myths we were told as a child, then I guess we're looking at dinner here -- their dinner where we're the main course!"

    "I don't think so," Riley broke in, stopping the argument before it began as he slowly lowered his hand and rapped it softly against the hard stone floor.  "Cause if we were merely food, why take us here and imprison us?  Why wait?  They could have eaten us when they.. when they ate our parents," he finished sadly, his voice a hollow monotone.

    Instantly Alex reacted before she could stop herself, her hand flying of its own free will and striking against Riley's tanned cheek, the sound quickly lost in the large cavern.  "Don't," she hissed, her eyes burning with unshed tears.  "Don't say that," she whispered, softer now as she slowly turned away, her sarcasm finally lost as she tilted her head, her long raven hair hiding her tears.

    Quickly Riley felt shame build within him as Will sent him a scathing look as he scooted beside the tall girl.  "Don't worry, Alex," the red-head soothed quietly, searching for something to provide hope in the dank darkness that surrounded and suffocated them.  "I'm sure that our parents got out of there somehow.  And I bet that they already called the Police and that they're on their way here right-"

    "The Police?" a quiet voice murmured from outside of their prison, stilling Will's weak comfort.  Smiling coyly, Drusilla gently tapped the iron bars as two large vampires flanked her on either side, instantly causing the three friends to regroup back together in a tight huddle as far away from them as possible.  "You think that the Sunnydale Police is your only hope?" she asked again, a large nail tapping gently against her lips.  "If so, then you truly are ours."

    "Hey, my dad is Captain of the Sunnydale Police!" Alex burst out hotly, arching forward to glare at the vampiress.  "And you can bet your ass that he's-"

    "Dead," Drusilla supplied, stopping the girl's tirade with the simple word.  Quickly, a heavy silence fell over the trio as what little coloring they held quickly faded away.  "But don't fret," she added quickly as one of her companions inserted a large metal key with a hollow metallic thunk into the lock that restrained them, "for you shall be quick to join them," she whispered as the door creaked open, the two large vampires stepping within the small confines and advancing on the trio.  "The time has come," she hissed, her eyes burning with mad delight as the two vampires seized a screaming and yelling Alex and Will, pulling them struggling aside as Dru advanced on Riley's still countenance.  "Beginning with you," she finished as she pulled him to his feet with an iron grip that allowed no room for debate.

    Instantly, Will and Alex realized that they were being taken no where and that their friend was the real prey.  "No, Riley!!" Alex screamed, struggling against her captor's grip as her friend was hauled from their cage, his panicked face locked on her and Will.  "Let him go!!" she wailed as she was shoved back against Will, the two vampires retreating and leaving them alone once more in their cell.

    "Take me instead!" Will cried out, rushing the bars and straining against them with all of his might.

    But their pleas seemed to land on deaf ears as the small woman effortlessly drug Riley away from them, heading towards the archway that led to the tunnel to their right.  Gasping, Riley marveled at the vampire's steel grip, all but cutting off the blood to his arms.  He kicked, thrashed, and yelled but to no avail as he was walked to his certain doom.  But then, just as she was about to drag him into the darkness of the new tunnel, a roar went up amongst the vampires in the cavern behind.  Shocked, Riley saw the world whip around as Drusilla spun him effortlessly, both their eyes moving to the other entrance to the cavern, to their right and directly across from his friends' prison.  What he saw was enough to take his breath away.

    "Anne?" he murmured, watching in disbelief as the small blond dressed in tight black, cotton pants and a small white halter top stepped from the dark tunnel and forward into the large cavern with quiet determination.  Quickly she was flanked by Angel, the dark stranger from the night before and... and someone who looked remarkably like his father only considerably younger (a brother?) and more strangers that he didn't recognize but looked familiar somehow.  But his dad didn't have any brothers.

    "Buffy," Drusilla chirped happily, her eyes locking on the Slayer as her captive seemed to sag in her hands, "so good to see you again!" she called out before turning on her heels and moving quickly down the dark, slanting tunnel with her captive held tightly in her grip.

    "Drusilla," Buffy hissed in return, her resolve strengthening as vampires seemed to melt from the shadows of the large cavern to slowly step into the light, game faces on and obviously ready to party -- a welcoming party.

    "She has Riley," she heard Giles mutter thinly from beside her, the pain obvious in his voice as his eyes traced the outline of the dark archway that, just scant moments ago, his son had stood in.

    "I've got him," was Buffy's quick reply as she surged forward without another glance, cutting a swath through the vampires that stood in her way.

    "I'm with her," Spike added, breaking rank and following close on Buffy's tail, using his stake with deadly accuracy...

    ... Which left the others standing in a loose circle, eyeing the many vampires that dotted the large cavern.  "And I guess that leaves us to deal with the rest..." Xander trailed off as he awkwardly pulled a stake out of a bag that he was carrying, eyeing it doubtfully before turning to once more gawk at the many vampires that slowly began to advance.

    "The kids!" Willow gasped, her eyes locking on the cage that sat opposite them, behind the sea of fangs.

    And then, as though his earlier fear had been forgotten, Xander's face shifted into one of grim determination as he gripped the small piece of wood in a tight-fisted hand, throwing the bag aside with the other.  "Then let's get down to business," he summed up for everyone as he, Giles, Willow, Oz, and Angel moved into the fray.

    "What's going on?" Alex asked for the fifth time as she strained against the bars that kept her prisoner, trying to make out what the darting shadows meant.

    "I think that the Calvary arrived," Will responded above the screams, yells, and shouts of pain and the sound of fighting, his eyes squinted against the poor lighting as the squirming shadows drew closer.

    "The Police?" Alex asked hopefully, instantly picturing her father in full dress uniform beside his many top detectives.

    For a moment Will was quiet as he slowly backed away, trying to puzzle out what he had seen.  "I don't think so," he murmured as two shapes seemed to break free of the tumult and threw themselves against their iron caging, sending the friends scampering back as two familiar faces peered at them anxiously.

    "Oh Will, thank God!" the young girl gushed, her face flushed as long red hair trailed wildly over her heaving shoulders.

    "Alex, are you alright?" the guy beside her asked quickly, his unruly black hair doing little to hide the soot that dotted his sweaty face.

    Instantly, Alex and Will felt as though the floor had dropped out beneath them as the voices finally clicked with the familiar faces.  "Dad?" Alex squeaked, trying to compare this lanky teen to the image of her father in full dress police uniform that she had branded in her mind's eye.

    Will, on the other hand, could only gape at the young woman that kind of sounded like his mom but so did not look like his mom, his mouth opening and closing silently as he slowly shook his head in disbelieving confusion.

    For a moment, fear clutched at Willow's heart as she took in her son's obvious fear and confusion, afraid that he may faint.  Then, their reactions clicked as she glanced down at herself and then over at Xander.  "Oh, this," she said absently, waving at herself and Xander in an off-handed way.  "We'll explain later," she said hastily, "but first let's get you out of here!"

    Shaking slightly, Will slowly nodded his head as his mom and Uncle Xander began inspecting the large lock that barred their exit.  Then, something sparked in his mind as he quickly strode forward and reached through the bar, grabbing his mom's shoulder urgently.. well, at least he was pretty sure that it was his mom.  "She took Riley!" he said quickly, pushing his confusion aside as fear for his best friend was once more renewed with a fervor.

    "Don't worry," Xander quickly cut in, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips.  "Buffy's getting him."

    By this point, Riley didn't even bother to waste his strength by struggling against Drusilla's pincer-like grip.  He now understood what a useless battle it would be and worked on keeping his footing instead as he was dragged down the dark tunnel, his scuffed shoes sliding over the loose stone that dotted the steeply downward slanting tunnel.  And then they were through it as they stepped once more into light -- this time a bright light that completely illuminated a large domed cavern that stretched up in a large crescent and dipped down to end a few hundred yards opposite him.  But this cavern, unlike the last, was not a natural creation, and instead the walls that sloped up were so smooth that they were glassy and reflected the torchlight.  He didn't think that man could have made something like this, something so smooth and symmetrical, but he hated to guess what else was responsible.

    But then his musings were cut short as Drusilla finally stopped a few yards into the entrance to the cavern.  Tearing his eyes away from the walls, Riley had only a second to notice that here the floor ended in a sheer edge that stretched from one end of the dome to the other, dropping a good ten feet into darkness, before he himself was shoved over this precipice.  Crying out, Riley felt his feet fold beneath the jarring impact with the hard cavern floor as he tumbled forward, almost sliding against the unnaturally smooth stone.  Wincing, he slowly began to pick his bruised body from the ground when Drusilla was at his side once more, hauling him to his feet and propelling him forward until they stopped in the very center of the dome, hundreds of feet below the pinnacle of the ceiling with darkness lying to either side in these lower regions.

    Gasping, Riley was roughly switched in Drusilla's hold until he was now standing before her, one thin, muscled arm wrapped tightly around his neck as the other wound itself in his hair and yanked viciously to the side, baring his neck to her blood-red lips.  Closing his eyes, Riley thought of his mother and father as he waited for the pain to come -- waited for the vampire to bite him with the sharp fangs he knew were hidden behind those innocent-looking lips.  But the pain never came.

    Confused, Riley hesitantly opened one eye and then the other, noting that he was in fact still alive and that his captor seemed to be waiting for something.. or someone.  "What... what are you doing?" he asked, hating the waver that he heard in his voice but unable to mask his fear.

    "Waiting," was the almost musical reply as Drusilla's eyes darted lazily over her captor's taught muscles, eyeing the throbbing vein in his neck almost hungrily.

    "For what?" Riley choked out, wincing as her hold tightened, cutting into his airflow.

    "For your sister," Drusilla hummed with a small smile full of gleaming fangs.

    "My.. my sister?" Riley wheezed, barely believing that he had heard correctly.  "But she's dead!  You said so yourself!"

    "No, I said that she had apparently died," Drusilla corrected as the silence of the domed cavern was broken by the tapping of heeled boots on the stone floor.  "They were, apparently, wrong," she continued as the Slayer dropped over the edge of the ledge and landed effortlessly before them, stake in hand.  "Buffy," she hissed, her face rapidly altering until her fangs glinted in the dim light.

    Instantly, all of the pieces that had been missing, that had really been there all along, snapped into place as Riley felt his eyes lock on the young woman that stood before them, back against the smooth stone wall.  

    Forcing a smile, the girl slowly nodded.  "I'm B... Anne!" she countered, catching herself quickly.  

    "And they lost someone close to them," Riley interrupted, finally driven out of his silence as he looked deep into Buffy's eyes.  "My sister."

    "You... you had a sister?" Buffy whispered, her face an expressionless mask.

    "Yeah -- she died before I was born," Riley sighed, the spell breaking as he shared a smile with his friends.  "My parents never mention her, but her tomb says that she was our age when she was killed.  Her name was Buffy."

    Buffy.  Buffy Anne Summers.  His sister.  His sister was alive and standing before him.  And they had already met... cursing himself, Riley realized that he had already met her the previous night, not knowing who she was.  And then she had saved his life.  She had saved all of their lives as she moved with a grace and an effortless rhythm that defied everything mortal and human.  Because she wasn't human.  She was the Slayer.

    "Let him go, Dru," Buffy stated quietly, seeing the fear on Riley's face change to that of stupefied realization.  He knew who she was.  Well, that's okay because she knew who he was as well: he was Giles' son and her mother's only child -- he was her brother and to hell if she'd let Dru take that away from them.  "Let my brother go," she whispered, this time looking into his dark brown eyes and seeing everything in him that she couldn't give to either Giles or her mom.  She wouldn't let him die.

    To her demand, Drusilla only laughed -- until that laughter was cut short as another person joined their drama, dropping down to land effortlessly beside the Slayer.  "Spike," she pouted, her good humor instantly disappearing as a frown pulled at her lips.  "What are you doing here?"

    "You heard the Slayer, luv," Spike said quietly, calmly as he and Buffy slowly parted company, edging in a circle around Drusilla, parting her attention as she quickly tightened her hold on the boy's throat, causing him to gasp in pain.

    "Don't," Dru quickly ordered, watching as Spike and Buffy met up once again, this time before the darkness that stood opposite of where they came down.  "You come near me and I eat your brother," she hissed, inching her fangs ever closer to the boy's exposed jugular.

    Quickly, Buffy fought back her fear and forced herself to hold onto the steel-like calm that she had built and nurtured over the past twenty-five years.  She was the Slayer.  Buffy Summers was dead.  There was no pain here in this empty shell of a killer.  No hurt.  No love.  There was nothing but the Slayer.  But then, as Drusilla gently scraped her sharp fangs along her brother's neck, drawing a thin trail of blood, Buffy felt that calm vanish like a trail of smoke in a fierce wind.

    "Stop!" she cried out, her voice catching in her throat as her emotion betrayed her.  Yes.  Emotion.  Swallowing past the hurt, Buffy felt tears sting her eyes as she threw her stake aside.  She couldn't lie to herself any longer.  Buffy Summers, try as hard as she may, never died when Riley died.  A part of her had died that night, yes, when she watched yet another of her loved ones die at her hands, but she had mistaken that part for all of her.  She had wanted to be dead.  She wanted to be dead and not feel the pain of what she had done, but she had been unable to make it completely real.  No, she needed to pay for her sins.  She had needed to atone for her crimes and damnit, she had needed to suffer.  She had to suffer for all of the pain that she had caused her family, her friends.  Her love.  She had forced herself to suffer and to atone for her mistakes, wanting to believe that it would kill her in the end -- kill all hurt, feelings and emotions.

    But it hadn't.  Giles had once told her that the thing he admired most about her was that she always followed her heart and let that rule her decisions.  That was who she was.  Try as she might, Buffy Summers wasn't the Slayer.  The Slayer was Buffy Summers.  They weren't two separate entities that lived exclusively, one without the other, but were so closely tied that they had become one.  When Buffy had been called when she was only sixteen, her life had forever become merged with that of the Slayer.  She was the Slayer.  And now her brother was about to die because he was the Slayer's brother -- and to hell if Buffy would allow that to happen.  Not again.

    Closing her eyes, Buffy willed back her tears as she thought back on all that she had loved and lost.  Angel, Riley, everyone.  She had lost them all because she was the Slayer.  She wouldn't lose another -- especially not her brother.  She owed that much to the others.  To her friends and family.

    Sighing, Buffy felt a soothing calm settle over her limbs as she opened her eyes and smiled at her brother's fear-filled eyes.  She didn't know this boy -- would never get the opportunity to know him, but in a way, she already did.  He was her.  He was everything that she wasn't.  "I know about the spell," Buffy finally whispered, watching as Dru's eyes danced from herself to Spike who stood slightly behind her.  "I know what you're trying to do," she continued, watching as Drusilla tightened her hold around Riley's neck.  "I know that you're standing below where the high school library once stood -- above where the door to hell once stood... I know that you're trying to reopen the Hellmouth using Riley's blood," she whispered, careful not to move any closer towards the vampire, staying back with the dark shadows at her back.  "But he's not a Slayer."

    "But he's the Slayer's brother," Drusilla bit back, an almost innocent and beguiling smile lifting her lips.  "He shall have to do."

    "He doesn't have to," Buffy whispered, almost feeling Spike tense behind her.  Closing her eyes again briefly, Buffy tried to steel herself, looking for strength.  But finding none in that empty, hollow place she had lived in for so many years, she instead opened her eyes and turned to what had always been her source of power.  Love.  Locking eyes with Riley, Buffy smiled gently at her brother before turning to Drusilla.  "Take mine instead."

    Eyes widening, Drusilla loosened her hold on the young man slightly as she locked eyes with the Slayer.  "You," she began, choosing her words carefully, "offer your blood to him willingly, in order to save your brother?"

    Slightly puzzled at Drusilla's wording, Buffy quickly nodded her head.  "Yes," she whispered, her eyes fierce as she spoke from her heart.  But then, before Drusilla could respond to her words, Buffy sensed sudden movement behind her.  Before she could turn, she felt a warm breath fan her hair as Spike leaned in and whispered into her ear.

    "Just the words I've been waitin' to hear, luv."

    Confused, Buffy turned quickly, seeing that Spike wore his game face as the darkness erupted around them.  Gasping, she could do nothing as she was suddenly overwhelmed by rushing vampires, all snagging her limbs in iron grips.  They had been lying in wait for her in the darkness, waiting for her to speak the magic words.  "Spike," she gasped, struggling uselessly as she was drug into the center of the domed room, watching as Dru gleefully drug her struggling brother away.  "Spike, help me!" she cried out, not wanting to believe her eyes as Spike calmly followed her captors' movements until he was once more standing before her, his grin one that was all too familiar, but one that she never thought that she'd see again.  The grin of a monster.  "The chip," she whispered, shaking her head slowly.

    "Gone," Spike whispered sensuously as he reached a hand forward as though to gently stroke her chin, and then changing it mid-move and curling it into a fist that slammed ruthlessly into her midsection, as though trying to show her the truth in his words, needing to demonstrate that the real him was indeed back and badder than ever.

    Instantly, Buffy felt the air expel from her lungs in one painful burst as she heard Riley cry out in anger.  Gasping, trying to regain what she had lost, Buffy sagged in her captors' arms, thinking back on all that had come to pass to bring her there.  All of it relating back to Spike.

    "So.. haven't you found Dru yet?" 

    Instantly the smile disappeared from Spike's face as he turned solemn.  "Yeah, and she's still as bloody batty as ever -- tried to stake me last week," he muttered crossly, absently rubbing his chest as the Slayer's smile began to grow.  "Hey, I wouldn't be smiling if I were you!" he quickly cut in.  "After all, I was just on my way to Sunnydale-"

    "Via Baux de Provence?" Buffy interrupted skeptically, arching a slim eyebrow at the vampire.

    "Yeah, as a matter of fact I am," Spike said, his tone deadly serious.

    "You set me up," she whispered in disbelief, raising her weary eyes to meet Spike's smug countenance.  "But.. how did you know-"

    "That you weren't dead?" Spike interrupted, his grin chilling her to the bone.  "A few years back Dru and I saw you in Africa -- beat the rest of the truth out of some no-name Watcher.  We used him to track your movements."

    "Marseilles," Buffy breathed, wanting to kick something -- especially herself.

    It was as good as a place as any to wait for the tourists to leave and for the ruins to close for the night -- for the real fun to begin -- or so it should if her source in Marseilles had been telling the truth.  Then again, seeing as how the vampire had been staring down the point of her stake, she was pretty sure that he was reliable.  She had just been lucky that while cleaning out Marseilles' unwanted night life, she had stumbled across the one vampire who wanted to cut a deal -- his life for information.

    "You planned it all," she continued, her mind skipping back to the fact that it was he who had first told them about Drusilla's plan to reopen the Hellmouth.  

    "Spike?" she asked, surprise filling her voice once more as the shape slowly moved, stepping forward into the light to reveal the bleached vampire.  "What are you doing here?  I thought I told you not to come!"

    "And miss the party?" Spike replied, arching his eyebrow at the girl.  "I bloody well don't think so," he laughed shortly, straightening his long, leather jacket as all eyes turned towards him.  "And besides," he added quietly, his expression turning serious, "I think that I found out some more information that might be helpful -- may explain why Dru grabbed the little ones."

    "You sat there and told us your plan... and we didn't even see it."

    "A few months back Dru and I found a spell that could recreate the Hellmouth here in Sunnyhell," he explained, knowing that now he had everyone's full attention.  "All that was needed was the blood of a Slayer."

    "The only part that I left out was the fact that the Slayer needed to willingly give her blood for the Hellmouth to be reopened," Spike grinned as he licked his fangs as he eyed her slowly.  "And we all know how bloody likely that would be... without help," he added wickedly as he threw a glance at Riley, who had been listening to everything with rapt attention.  It didn't take a genius to see exactly when the kid realized that all along he had been bait for his sister -- for her death warrant.

    Groaning, Buffy thought back to all of the times that Spike had 'unknowingly' dropped a vital clue -- they never suspecting a thing.

    "The vampire said last night that they were at the doorway-"

    "What doorway?" Willow asked, puzzled.

    "The door to the old Hellmouth makes the most sense," Spike cut in as a light bulb seemed to snap on for everyone in the room.

    "Thank you for playin'," Spike whispered, his voice turning low and breathless as he slowly stepped forward until his cold body was pressed against her.

    Grunting, Buffy glared at the vampire, her head barely reaching his chest as she jutted out her chin defiantly, struggling uselessly against her many captors.  There were just too many for her to take -- too many that were just too strong.  After so many years, Buffy had finally met her match, and her stomach churned at the thought that out of all of the worthy opponents that she had faced during her many years, her death would have to come at his hands.  "Bite me," she hissed, her eyes flaring with defiance.

    "Gladly," Spike purred, taking that as his cue as he reached a pale hand forward and tangled it in her long, blond masses.  Grinning, he yanked his hand roughly to the right, loving her whimper of pained anger as her lovely neck was exposed to the dim light.  He had waited too long for this.  Flicking a slick tongue over sharpened fangs, Spike tightened his grip on her hair before slowly inching forward, inhaling her sweet Slayer scent as his tongue flicked over baby soft skin, tasting her salty sweat.  Smiling, he felt her body tense against his as he gently raked his sharpened fangs over the soft skin that hid her sweet juices.  Instantly, small lines of blood followed his teeth, marring her skin as he gently licked it away.  But then, as her blood filled his mouth, Spike felt himself burn with something that he had felt only once before -- the rush of a Slayer's blood.

    Quickly, Spike reared back and then struck with savage force, sinking his fangs deep into her tender neck and piercing the thick jugular vein, hot blood instantly spilling out and filling his mouth.  Even as the Slayer arched against him, her mouth twisted in a silent scream of pain, bright light shot down from directly above and seemed to envelop them both, sending her vampire captors scattering in either direction.  

    Moving instinctively, Spike quickly reached his other arm out and wrapped it tightly around the Slayer's thin waist, pulling her, rutting her against his hard form as his other hand tightened in her hair, holding her to him as her life force filled him with searing heat.

    "BUFFY!!" Riley screamed, struggling with renewed strength against Drusilla.  Red, hellish light had formed in a column of wailing, screaming, agonized voices from both below and above his sister and the vampire, blurring them in a column of light that connected the stone floor beneath them to the stone ceiling so high above.  The doorway to hell.  And throughout it all the vampire drank from his sister, her dark blood trailing past his thin, bloodless lips and down her pale neck.  "BUFFY!!" he screamed again.  His sister was dying.

    Wincing as every step seemed to reopen a new wound, Angel hurried down the darkened tunnel, his mind locked on the sight of Buffy and Spike disappearing into darkness together.  Buried deep down in the back of his mind, a single thought seemed to vibrate there, never leaving him in peace as he fought with the others in the main cavern: something wasn't right.  And then, as he heard Riley's screams for his sister, Angel felt his worse fears confirmed.

    Growling, Angel's speed doubled as he poured out of the dark tunnel and into a brightly lit domed cavern.  Without even giving the massive room a cursory glance, Angel instead felt his eyes lock on a column of hellish red light that seemed to pore out from the ceiling and disappear into darkness in the center of the room.  Bolting across the room, the nearer he got to the crevice the more his eyes were able to follow the column of light down, down until they locked on Buffy's still form, encased in Spike's arms with his lips locked against her neck.  Instantly, Angel felt as though he had been slugged, weakness seeming to steal over his limbs as he watched his childe locked in an embrace with the Slayer that no one was meant to share -- not even himself.

    Eyes flaring in anger, game face changing his smooth countenance into a mountain of ridges and fangs, Angel dove off of the lip of the precipice and flew to the ground below.  Snarling, he was about to charge to Buffy's rescue when he belatedly became aware of another.  Turning, he barely had a chance to lift his hands in defense as Drusilla seemed to erupt from the darkness, her claws aimed at his throat.

    And then Riley's words, his pleas of mercy for the sister that he had never known were cut short as the air was cut around him by another, another that landed effortlessly on the stone beside him.  He only had a chance to let out a strangled gasp of surprise before he was tossed aside like yesterday's garbage, once more rebounding off of the unnaturally smooth stone floor.  Grimacing in pain, Riley slowly lifted his head, one hand reaching up to straighten his glasses as he haltingly pulled himself to his feet.  "Angel?" he muttered, watching in muted wonder as the strange guy that he had met only the night before struggled with the dark-haired vampire that had been his captor.

    It wasn't the fact that this man had seemingly appeared out of nowhere to fight against Drusilla that so startled him, but rather the fact that this man seemed to be an even match for the crazy vampire.  And in a few seconds, Riley quickly saw why.  Somehow, Drusilla managed to get in a raking swipe with her long fingernails that left a red furrow across Angel's shoulder, slicing through the thick duster to reveal dark blood.  And in that instant, Angel's face seemed to shift until Riley was looking into the glowing yellow eyes of a monster.

    Yelping, Riley scuttled back on the smooth floor, moving away from the creatures and more towards the center of the chamber, only stopping when the world around him turned red.  Gasping, he quickly swiveled and stared in horror at the red light that seemed to emanate from just a few feet behind him -- from the spot where this vampire, this Spike, was killing his sister.

    His sister.

    Buffy was his sister and she was dying.  Strangely, it was the sight of the petite blond, now completely supported in the blond man's arms as his face was pressed tightly to her neck, that finally broke him from his shocked reverie.  In that instant, cold fury unlike any he had ever known before began to replace the blinding fear that had filled him for so long.  His eyes narrowing, Riley realized that he could pick out the obscene sound of slurping from the other demonic screams that rebounded off of the large cavern -- almost like the sound of a dog lappinng from a bowl of water.  And that dog was this vampire that was drinking from his sister.

    "Buffy!"

    Shaken from his reverie, Riley turned to see Angel's face twisted into something like horrified agony -- like he was watching the love of his life fade away before his very eyes.  And then, as Angel struggled with Drusilla, his eyes tore away from Buffy and locked on Riley, seeming to peer much further and into his very soul.

    "Help her," he grunted before jerking his head sharply to the right.

    Turning slightly, Riley felt his eyes narrow and lock on a small shaft of wood that lay alone and forgotten a few feet away from him.  Puzzled, he turned back to Angel to ask how in the hell he expected him to help his sister with a toothpick, when he saw that the vampire, now fighting against two other demons, was too busy to reply.  Which left him to puzzle.

    Lap.  Lap.  Gasp.  Pant.

    Willing his ears to turn off, to turn away from the sound of the monster that fed from his sister, Riley realized that he didn't have time to puzzle.  And in that instant, his fear-turned hate found direction as he pulled himself off of his aching fanny and scrambled across the smooth stone floor until his hand seized the wooden shaft.  Strangely enough, it seemed to fit comfortably in his hand, the wood smoothed down and sharpened as though it was made for... stabbing, gouging, killing.

    Blinking dully, Riley turned and found himself once more looking at the red, garish hell that marked where his sister once stood.  He almost fancied that he could see her eyes through the hellish light, slowly going dull and unseeing as her blood was drained from her body.  Numbly, Riley half climbed, half staggered to his feet and slowly shuffled forward into the bright light, praying that somehow he'd find the strength to face what every child's worst fear seemed to be made of.

    And then he was in the light, everything becoming clear as Angel's struggles faded away.  Instead, he saw that this vampire, this Spike as Buffy had called him, had his back towards him... meaning that his sister's pale and drawn face was facing him.  Her limp body.  Her unmoving countenance.  Slowly, Riley felt his anger begin to build as he dimly realized that she had to be dead.  This monster couldn't drink from her veins this long and she still be living.  She couldn't be that deathly pale, so still in his grubby arms... so still like a sleeping angel and still be living.

    He was too late.

    "BUFFY!!"

    Once more Angel's agonized yell was enough to break through Riley's hazy thoughts.  As time once more returned to full speed and as sound once more returned to his ears, Riley quickly looked down at the wood, looking more and more like a stake from Will's vampire movies, that he held in his tightly fisted hand.  He knew what he had to do.

    "Leave her alone!!" Riley screamed suddenly as he rushed forward, burying the wood to the hilt in the man's fleshy back with a savagery that he had never before known.

    Crying out, Spike twisted away as pain flared from his shoulder, erasing all other thought as he staggered away from the vortex he had created.  And as his lips parted from the Slayer's neck, the column of red light flickered and then died as though someone had thumbed a light switch.  "Bloody 'ell!" Spike cursed into the sudden silence, his hand coming away red and pale, his lips still smeared red with the Slayer's blood.  And then Drusilla was by his side, supporting him as he sagged against her, sudden weakness striking his limbs.  "Bloody hell, the little imp staked me!" he cursed again, this time his glare settling on Riley's defiant face as the boy cradled his unconscious and dying sister.

    But that was the last tirade that Spike was able to manage as the tide quickly swung in the other direction.  By now it was apparent that while Riley had indeed spiked.. Spike, he had missed the heart.  But the damage was done and Spike knew that he was out of the fight until he healed -- and by the sounds of the pounding feet in the tunnel outside, it sounded as though the fight was over for his side anyway as the cavalry was about to arrive.

    "Spike, they come for us!" Drusilla whimpered, confirming his fears as she began to drag him back into the darkness that stood opposite of where the Slayer's little Scooby Gang would enter, the darkness that hid their getaway tunnel.

    Growling, Spike shook with everything that had been so within his grip... and now shattered because of a human who didn't even know what Spike was.  Who he was.  But then, as his eyes locked on the Slayer's pale, unmoving form, Spike felt a grimaced smile lift his thin lips.  "This ain't over, Angelus," he hissed, his eyes locking on his sire as Angel knelt beside the Slayer's brother who now cradled his sister in his arms.

    Instantly, Angel felt a feral snarl escape his lips as he pressed his hand tightly over the warm, oozing gashes that marred Buffy's throat.  They were cutting it close.  Too close.  Buffy needed help.  Now.

    Smiling smugly, Spike licked his lips obscenely as Drusilla pulled him away.  "I've tasted her now, just as you 'ave," he called out, knowing his words were digging into his sire, "deeper than you have.  I've marked her and I will have her again!" he vowed before disappearing into darkness, leaving Angel and Riley alone in the darkened cavern.

    "Over my dead body," Angel vowed, gritting his teeth angrily as he fought his desire to chase after them -- to hunt them down and destroy them for even daring to think of touching Buffy.

    "Or hers," Riley countered grimly as he felt her cool skin, finding dim relief to be facing a normal human face again instead of the face of a monster.  As the sound of his friends and family entering the cavern filled his ears, calling for him and Buffy, Riley felt his fears of his own death die away to be replaced by a new fear -- this time for his sister.  "We need to get her to a hospital now or else I'm an only child all over again."

    Nodding grimly, Angel quickly reached forward and lifted the slight Slayer effortlessly into his arms, her head lolling against him.  Grimacing, the vampire found himself reminded too easily of Buffy's senior year in high school, those many years ago, when he had carried her like this to the hospital for the same reason.  Oddly enough, both times that Buffy had willingly given her blood, she had done it for love and to save another.  Only this time, he wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't going to lose her again.

Sunnydale General Hospital

    With the slow awakening from her deep sleep came a world of aches and pains and above all else, weakness.  Groaning, Buffy weakly lifted one slender hand and pressed it against her aching forehead, shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the fluorescent lights that blinded her bloodshot green eyes.  "I hope that someone caught the license of that semi," she whispered absently as her eyes finally adjusted to the light, taking in the green walls, beeping machinery, and the starch white sheets that covered her slim form.  "And it gets so much better," she groaned as she recognized the hospital room for what it was.  

    "I really hate hospitals," she continued to herself as she slowly drew the sheet aside and slid her legs to the edge of the bed.  Grinding her teeth against a wave of dizziness at the sudden movement, Buffy slowly inched forward until her bare feet were resting on the cold linoleum floor.  Hissing between clenched teeth, she then forced herself to stand, willing her shaky legs to hold beneath her as she attempted to make a break for the closet that no doubt held her clothing before...

    "Hey!  What are you doing?!"

    ... before someone came in and found her attempting to make her ever graceful getaway.  "Making a break for it," she grumbled as her legs finally gave way beneath her like a newborn colt first learning to stumble around the pasture.  Closing her eyes against the sight of the floor rushing to meet her, Buffy grunted as strong arms wrapped around her slight form and effortlessly lifted her into their arms.  Dizzy, she took a moment to rest her head against the person's shoulder, all the while absently praying that her flimsy hospital gown was tightly secured over her rear end.

    "Are you alright?" the same low baritone asked as she felt herself being gently deposited on the sturdy hospital bed, returning her to her prison.

    "Been better," she quipped wearily as she felt the covers being drawn over her once more.  Sighing, she slowly opened her eyes and blearily focused on the orderly that had, embarrassingly, come to her rescue.  Instead, she found the face of a familiar stranger.  "You," she whispered slowly, taking in the dark eyed, dark haired young man that stood attentively at her bedside, studying her with an unnerving intensity.

    "Me," Riley agreed, unperturbed by the greeting.  Although it wasn't exactly the response he had been hoping to receive from the sister he had never known, he'd take anything he could get at the moment.

    "We won?" Buffy asked, forcing the room to stop spinning as she eyed her brother, noticing that he didn't look too worse for wear considering the last couple of nights that he had endured -- not too hot either, but hey, the way that she felt, she probably didn't look like she was ready for a beauty contest either.

    "Not exactly a stunning victory," Riley responded dryly, eyeing the swath of bandages that encircled his sister's neck, her long blond hair forming a lank halo around it, still unable to get the feeling of his sister, lying so limp and still in his arms, from his thoughts.

    Following his line of sight, Buffy slowly lifted a hand and traced the cotton that encircled her throat.  In an instant, her aching weakness made sense -- she hadn't felt like this since.. well, since she had offered herself up to Angel to save his life.  And in this case, she felt considerably worse.  Apparently, Spike just didn't know when enough was enough.  "Spike?" she asked quickly, her eyes growing wide as that thought led to another -- one considerably more important.

    "He and Druscilla escaped," was his muttered response, looking as though he'd like to do many of the same things to the bleached vampire that were running through her own mind.  But for Buffy, the anger was so much worse because she had trusted the vampire -- and because of that trust she had endangered the lives of the children of her friends and family.  Oh yeah, Spike would pay for his treachery the next time that they crossed paths  -- and they would cross paths again.  Of that, Buffy was certain.

    "And everyone else?  Are the others alright?" Buffy asked, already knowing the answer by the look on his face.  He wouldn't be standing by her bedside, chatting away with her if someone that he truly loved had been harmed.

    "You're the only one that ended up in a hospital, if that's what you're asking," Riley responded with a grim smirk.

    Nodding, Buffy fingered the cotton that encircled her neck once more.  "How bad?" she asked, unconcerned with his words as her eyes trailed over him, taking in his dusty garments from the night before.  She couldn't have been out too long if he hadn't even had a chance to go home and change yet.  But then her eyes narrowed on a strip of white that wrapped around his elbow.  "And what happened to you?  I thought that you said no one else was hurt," she demanded, her tone beginning to turn the slightest bit anxious, driving her tiredness away.

    Smiling grimly, Riley flexed his sore arm before locking eyes with his sister.  "I said not badly enough to land them in the hospital -- and this was for you," he continued, quickly gaining her attention once more as she raised an eyebrow skeptically.  "The Doctor thought that it was too late, that you had lost too much blood," he explained, watching as her eyes widened slightly.  "You drained the blood banks and being family.. well, they made an exception and took the milk right from the cow, so to speak," he explained as he indicated the bandaged nook of his arm.

    Sighing, Buffy allowed her eyes to drift shut for the briefest of seconds, drawing strength from a well that she had deep within herself.  "Well bless that good ole Slayer healing," she muttered sarcastically before pushing herself into a sitting position once more.  As a wave of dizziness swept over her once again, Buffy impatiently batted away Riley's concerned hand.  After a moment to steady herself, she once more pushed her legs over the side of the bed, but the second that she tried to put her weight on them they quickly buckled, sending her into Riley's arms once again.

    This time anger fueled her as she tried to push him away, drawing on her Slayer strength, finding none, and gritting her teeth in frustration as he easily ignored her weak protests and replaced her in her hospital bed once more.  "You're too weak," he muttered, explaining the obvious as he drew the white sheets over her tiny frame, finding it hard to remember the strength that this small body usually contained.  "And where do you think you're going, anyway?  Going to run again?  Without saying goodbye?" he prompted, watching as Buffy drew back as though slapped.

    "You don't know what you're talking about," Buffy hissed, hating herself for the tears that burned unbidden in her green eyes.  All she knew is that the others weren't here and if she didn't leave now.. if she didn't leave now then it would just get harder and harder to do so and she knew that she couldn't stay.  If anything, this little trip down Memory Lane had proved that to her.  It was because she was the Slayer that her brother and his friends, the kids of her friends and family, had been taken.  To use them as bait to get to her.  She couldn't endanger them like that again.

    "I think I do," Riley responded slowly, his face twisting into something that was a mix of compassion, pity, and understanding.  "You've been out for quite a while... long enough that Alex, Will and I have finally heard the truth about Sunnydale's deep, dark secret -- and its hero."

    Hearing this word associated with herself, Buffy couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her dry lips.  At one point she had considered herself a hero.  The savior for the weak and helpless that fought off the wave of darkness that beat down the doors of Sunnydale.  In high school she had even been awarded the title of Class Protector.  At that point, she had worn the title proudly, smiling as she led her classmates into battle and death against the Mayor -- a death that many should never had to face because it had been her job to save them.  They had no reason to face the darkness that had become a part of her life.  Oh no, she was no hero.  She was just doing the job that Fate or Destiny, or whoever in the hell handed these things out, had given her.  And when she looked back at the shitty  job that she had done over the years, at all of the lives that she hadn't saved.. well, she had to wonder if Fate and Destiny were sitting around and having a good cry right now at the fuck up that they made all those years ago when they decided that she should be the Chosen One.

    "Listen, I wanted to thank you," Riley continued, as though he hadn't heard her self-recriminating bark of laughter.

    "Thank me?" Buffy asked wearily, arching one slender eyebrow at her brother.  "For what?  Getting you kidnapped?  Used as bait?  Threatened?  Hurt?" she asked quickly, her eyes narrowing in self-hatred.  "Please stop me when I hit the mark."

    "For risking your life to save me," he replied smoothly, ignoring her bitter words.  He had been told the stories of her past, of all that she had sacrificed and risked for everyone that she loved time and time again, about her conquests and her defeats.. about those that she had lost and how it had finally driven her to the fate that she had bitterly accepted.  "You didn't have to offer your life for mine -- that's not a part of your sacred duty -- it was an offer of suicide to save someone you didn't even know."

    "You're my brother," Buffy whispered dimly, refusing to accept his thanks.

    "But that's just a word.  You don't know me," Riley protested, shaking his head curtly.  "I'm a stranger and you offered your life for mine."

    "No," Buffy protested softly, her eyes locking with his.  "You're the answer to a prayer."

    At her solemn declaration, Riley could only stare at his sister in confusion.  "To who's prayer?"

    "Mine," Buffy whispered as the tear finally broke free and drifted down her pale cheek.

    "I don't understand," Riley whispered, drawing closer to her bedside as he hesitantly took her small hand in his own.

    Sighing, Buffy lifted her other hand and curled it into a tight fist that rest over her heart, trying to put her thoughts into words.  "I knew that I had to leave, to make them all safe," she whispered, thinking back to the cold emptiness that she had lived in those few days that she had lain in a pool of her own blood, all of those years ago, back in Angel's mansion after Riley had been killed.  "I knew that I had to leave so they could be safe," she repeated, "but I knew how much that it would hurt them all.  I had left once before and I had promised never to do it again... but by being my mother's daughter, Giles' Slayer, and the friend to my friends, they were endangered by me.  If I had stayed, they would have died and left me all alone," she whispered, her tears blurring her vision.  "I could never be the nice and normal daughter that my mother had always wanted, had begged me to be.  I couldn't be that for my mom or for Giles... and then you came," she whispered, meeting his beautiful brown eyes.  "You were able to be everything to all of them that I was never able to be."

    "But you didn't have to leave," Riley protested, squeezing her hand tightly within his own.

    "I did," Buffy argued quickly, no doubt in her mind that she was right.  "Everything that I love dies because of me, because of who I am... because I'm the Slayer," she whispered.  Sighing, Buffy angrily wiped away her tears as she tried to focus on Riley's handsome face.  "Someone once told me that I would live unchanged, never aging, while all those around me would grow older and die... that I would always be alone.  Because I am the Slayer I am and always will be alone.  It has to be that way..."

    "No, it doesn't."

    Surprised, Buffy tore her eyes away from her brothers' and glanced towards the voice.  Chagrined, she saw that sometime during her heated exchange with her brother, the others had entered the room, quietly observing their private exchange.  Some, like her mother and Willow, had tears in their eyes, while others, like Giles and Xander, looked only angry and stubborn.  But it was the one who spoke, who denied her words out loud, that drew her attention as he broke away from the others and took Riley's place at her bedside.  As the others seemed to fade away as she became lost in his familiar brown eyes, Buffy felt the walls that she had carefully constructed with time around her heart slowly begin to crumble.

    "Buffy, it doesn't have to be that way," Angel whispered, tentatively reaching forward to brush an errant strand of blond hair away from her pale cheek.  Even as she was, bruised, pale, weak and haggard, he thought that she was the most beautiful sight that he had ever seen.

    "Angel, I-"

    "Shh," he whispered, gently reaching forward to silence her with a finger against her soft lips.  "We all know that you can't stay here," he whispered, leaning close to her so that his words fanned across her face in a cool breath, "but not for the reasons that you think.  They will be your family and friends, even if you forsake and run from them," he continued, feeling as the others drew nearer, "but that won't save them.  You tried that once before and that didn't stop Spike from targeting them.  Nothing will.  You're the Slayer and there's nothing that can be done about that.  They're your family and friends and you can't undo that.  What has happened has happened and what will happen will happen -- you may be the Slayer, but you can't stop that from happening."

    "Buffy, we know that you can't stay here with us," Joyce whispered, breaking away from her husband to move beside Angel, smiling tenderly down at her daughter even as harsh tears burned in her eyes.  It hurt her like none would never know to say these words, but after her and the others had talked, she knew it to be true.  "But not because we don't want you to," she continued, as though reading her daughter's mind.  "I want nothing more than to have both my son and my daughter by my side, my family complete," she stated as she drew Riley beside her, "but I understand that you can't."

    "Buffy, you are the Slayer," Giles added, taking over as he moved to the other side of her bed, the look of love in his eyes taking away from his firm, Watcher's tone of voice.  "You cannot stay in Sunnydale because Sunnydale no longer needs you.  The world needs you elsewhere now and we understand this."

    "But you don't have to be alone any longer," Angel replied firmly, speaking for everyone as he squeezed her hand firmly.

    "Buffy, this time we want you to stay in contact with us," Willow added firmly as she impatiently brushed a wave of long red hair from her face.  "We want to know where you are and what you're fighting."

    "We won't try to interfere," Xander added quickly, as though sensing her next argument.  "We're too old for that," he added with a small scowl, although even as he spoke it Buffy couldn't help a wry grin as he still looked the same age as his beautiful daughter that stood between him and his wife.  "But we want to know where you are so that we know that you're safe."

    "And you have to come back and visit in between Slaying," Riley added, showing that he too had been a part of this obviously lengthy and detailed discussion.

    "And this time, you won't be alone," Angel reiterated as he drew Buffy's attention back to him once again, this time making his meaning clear as he tried to show how much he still loved her with his eyes, the way that they caressed her every feature.  "For as smart as you are, you missed something pretty big when you assumed that you would be the only one who would never age and who would live forever," he continued with a rare grin.  "This time I'm going with you because it's always been my fight as well as yours.  You're never going to be alone again," he vowed before slowly leaning forward and sealing his vow with a soft kiss that pressed against her lips.

    Sighing, Buffy felt as though it were he that were breathing life into her, instead of the other way around, as the kiss seared deeper and deeper within her, causing her vision to blur and her world to spin.  In that kiss, she felt how much he loved and cherished her above all else, felt the honesty in his words and in his vow, and felt the love of all of her friends and family.  For the first time in longer than she could remember, Buffy felt a part of her heart stir that hadn't been touched since Riley had died.  She thought that it was hope.  It was hope that there was something worthwhile in her future after all, a future that had never seemed to contain anything else but death, despair, and loneliness.  It contained companionship, laughter, happiness, and above all else, it contained love.

    But then, as something else began to stir within her as the kiss deepened, Buffy felt her thin hope crack and shatter under a tide of cold water as she quickly pulled away from Angel's kiss, her wide eyes locking with his.  "We can't," she whispered, feeling the tears burn her eyes once again, "the curse."

    At this, there was a moment of stunned silence in the small hospital room before Xander broke it with a loud cackle of laughter that soon followed with others from those in the room.  "Geez Buffy, what kind of an example are you setting for our kids?" he smirked as Alex elbowed him sharply in the side.  "Not everything is about sex!"

    Flushing, Buffy watched as her friends and family smirked while Angel looked at her with a curious scrutiny.  Turning, she glared at Xander while she tried to shrink in the hospital bed, wanting nothing more than to hide in embarrassment.

    Finally, it was Willow who saved her from further torment as, between fits of giggles, she quickly stammered, "Don't worry Buffy!  I found a spell that left Angel's soul intact while getting rid of the side effects of the curse years ago!  Will and I completed it when he was just a little kid-"

    "We did?" Will asked, looking at his mother as though she were crazy.

    "You were too young to remember, honey," was Willow's quick retort as dawning realization seemed to sweep across Buffy's features.

    "You mean we can.. you know," Buffy quickly stammered in between anxious glances at the amused expressions of her friends and family.

    "Angelus is gone for good," was Angel's firm reply as a shadow of a smile once more lifted Buffy's lips.  "But you would have known this a long time ago, and wouldn't have suffered for so long, if you only would have done what we're asking now," he continued, watching as that smile began to fade.

    "What do you say, Buffy?" Giles prompted from beside her, his face solemn as he awaited his Slayer's.. his daughter's, response.

    Biting her lip, Buffy looked at all of those that she had lived, fought, and died for repeatedly over the years.  She still wasn't perfect, and she knew that, but somehow, together, maybe they could make this shitty twist of fate work for them after all.  Maybe, just maybe she could keep her family, could keep her friends, and still fight the good fight for the White Hats, with Angel at her side, and never be alone again.  Then again, maybe she was just opening herself up to get hurt even worse than when Riley died and when she bid the world that she had known all of her life goodbye.  But wasn't it worth that chance?  That hope?  

    "How could I say no?" she finally asked, looking from each face of her friends and family to the other, before finally landing on Angel's beautiful face -- the face that had haunted her dreams since she was only sixteen years old.  The face that would continue to haunt her nights forever.

    "Well now that we have that all figured out," Alex proclaimed loudly, very quickly ruining the moment as all eyes turned to the brash raven haired girl as she quickly pushed a thick wave of hair over her shoulders, "when are you guys going to undo whatever you did do to get you looking like this?" she asked as she waved dramatically at Xander and Anya.

    "Yeah, do you know how weird it is having you guys look like this?" Will asked quickly as he glared at his parents.  "When we were at the vending machines earlier, I even had to tell a guy from my film class to stop hitting on Mom!" he proclaimed indignantly as Willow turned a bright shade of red to match her hair.

    "We'll do it tonight," she quickly promised her son as she felt Oz's reassuring arm wrap around her shoulder.

    "You'll do it tonight," Giles corrected with an odd smile as he sheepishly grinned down at Buffy.  "Joyce and I have decided that.. well, that we rather like being forty again."

    "Um, can they do that?" Buffy dimly heard Xander question Willow as she turned her attention once more back to Angel.

    "Spike will be back," she murmured, pulling him closer so that they were nose to nose.

    "But this time we'll be ready," Angel assured, his features turning hard at the thought of his childe.  "I won't let him hurt you again," he stated firmly, remembering the vampire's taunt: "I've tasted her now, just as you 'ave," he called out, knowing his words were digging into his sire, "deeper than you have.  I've marked her and I will have her again!"

    "We won't let him hurt anyone again," Buffy corrected with a determined smile, breaking into Angel's thoughts.  "We're a team now, remember?" she asked, taking a breath and stepping fully out onto the shaky limb of a future that they were going to attempt.

    "I remember," Angel promised, his eyes locking with hers.  "I love you," he murmured, his eyes probing hers.

    "I love you," was Buffy's firm reply, the words coming easier than she ever could have imagined.  "I love you," she repeated softly before pulling him close and pressing her lips to his once more, her friends' bickering disappearing into the background.  Together, they could do anything.

The End