Definition of a Monster II by GG Noel

I realize I can’t read the last few lines because I’m crying. I look out the window and watch the birds sitting on the ledge. I want to take the box and throw it at them. Instead I open it.

I take it out and look at it, then start crying again. The Ring of Amara. He had it, and he’s giving to me, to give to Angel. God damn it, he loves me. He loves me. Too damn much.

I take the box and chuck it through the window…I miss the pigeons.

I’m sitting there staring at the broken glass when Elena knocks on the door.

"Buffy….may I come in?"

"Sure, sure," I say, wiping away tears. "What can I do for you…"

"General Sumner called. He’s contacted the people Spike wanted to speak to. They should be here the day after tomorrow."

"Why so long?"

"It appears they had to come from America…"

"Oh…okay…" I say, palming the ring. Probably not something I want the Council to know I have. "Did…did Spike tell you he was leaving…?"

"Yes…he did…and he told me why…I find it simply…"

"Stupid?"

"Unbelievable was the word I was looking for. He truly does love you, doesn’t he…"

"Oh, yeah," I say, going a little over the top. "He loves me so much, he’s going to get himself killed…"

"Pardon me…but isn’t he the best equipped to handle this situation? I mean, after all, he’s…him…"

"No…no he’s not…that Spike…he’s a cold blooded killer…a monster…and my Spike..he’s…."

"Not?"

"No…he’s not…I mean he is, but…besides…if anyone’s going to kill him, it’s going to be me." I find myself crying again. I bury my head in my hands. Why is this happening? Spike left. He never leaves. He’s always there. Always here. Beside me. Giving me a hard time. Making me fight. Making me laugh. Damn him for leaving.

He knows I have to go after Willow’s grandmother. And he doesn’t even know about Simone’s father, but he could probably tell something was up. I can’t hide things from him for some reason. I never could. Why doesn’t it work the other way around?

"So," says Elena, "How long has he been ‘your’ Spike?"

"You make him sound like a sex toy," I laugh…

She blushes…I forget I’m talking to a prissy English lady…

"Well, that’s not what I call mine…"she says.

"Oh…my…god…" I’m laughing again. Maybe she’s not so prissy.

"So…how long…"

"I don’t know…I mean…for so long, he was just there…wouldn’t go away…that was before I died…"

"Which time?" she grins.

"The second time…I didn’t know him the first time…and after I came back…he …he was a rock. If I couldn’t count on anything else, I could count on Spike. He never changed. Never treated me any different."

"He let you be you…"

"Even when I wouldn’t…I never thought to just let him be him…"

"Well, I think he has a pretty good idea of who you are…and of who he is…and who he isn’t."

I look over at her. "Do you know who we are…I mean besides a slayer and a vampire?"

"Other than two people who seem to mean a lot to each other…no…"

I stand up and take a shard of glass in my hand.

"Sorry about the window…"

"It’s alright. It’s not often we have the Slayer Queen in residence."

"You really believe that?"

"After seeing what Spike is doing for you? I don’t doubt it. But you know what…I don’t think it has anything to do with you being the Slayer Queen."

"Then what?"

"It’s about you being Buffy. Being who you are."

She’s smiling at me. She reminds me of my mom.

"Are you married, Elena?"

"I was engaged."

"You were?"

"He was killed in the early days of the war."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be."

"Was..was he your first love…?"

"Yes….yes he was…"

"How do you get past it…I mean, do you think you can do it again?"

"It? Do you mean sex or love?"

"Love…"

"I hope so…I still hope to have children one day…"

"Children…whoa…something I’ve not really thought about…"

"Being a slayer I would think not. But you are the Slayer Queen. If any slayer has the opportunity to be a mother, it’s you."

"You think?"

"The legends say you make the impossible possible."

Yeah right. "You think?"

"I just saw a soulless remorseless killer leave here crying because he was sacrificing himself for love…it that’s not making the impossible possible I don’t know what is…"

"He was crying…"

"He tried not to show it, but he was. I didn’t even know vampires could cry."

Damn you, Spike.

Two nights later there’s a knock at the door. I open it, and stare at the two men standing there. I can’t help but smile. Thank you, Spike.

Chapter Two

Despite what you see on The Guns of Navarone or Where Eagles Dare, it’s really not as easy as all that to move behind enemy lines. Especially when you have peroxide blonde hair and can only move at night. Hogan’s Heroes, it’s bloody not.

So I improvise. Show a little game face and it’ll get you far. Winter’s coming on, so I figure the farther north I go, the more night I’ll get. Besides, I know Buffy won’t like the cold. Discourage her from following me. It won’t discourage him, though. I’ve never minded the cold, and neither will he.

He’ll take advantage of Hitler’s resources, the prat, anywhere I go on the continent, he’ll likely know about it, and beat me there. If anything makes this easier, it’s that he’s in cahoots with the dictator. In my heart I know that was something I’d never do. But he’s not me, then, is he, at the heart of things. Change a point in time, change who you are. He’s still enough of me that I know that’s not an option. So north I go. Besides, if memory serves me right, there’s somewhere this general direction where Hitler wasn’t having such a bonnie time of it. I dropped a few crumbs when I stopped in Aberdeen. He probably already knows where I’m headed. In order to get there, he’ll have to drop the midget, at least partially.

I’ve been on the boat for four days now, and only had to spend the first day under deck. This far north, there’s only sunlight a couple of hours a day this time of year. I wonder why more vampires don’t move north in the winter, like a reverse exodus of birds. Go away, pretty chirpies, hello nasty vamps. Wouldn’t that be quite the yearly processional. The Swallows of Capistrano, the Nosferatu of Oslo.

<Mr. Summers?> says the deckhand. <We’ll be in port within the hour.>

I know, Summers isn’t that different from my real name, and Buffy would spot it in a minute. I’m not worried about Buffy spotting it, because she knows I’m right. Despite all the protests, she was always good about listening to me about the important things. But seeing Morris made me think of family again, and I had to be honest myself. The Summers were my family now. Joyce pouring me some cocoa, discussing our soap, and listening to me prattle on about my problems….The Nibblet showing up at all hours, and listening to my stories…and Buffy…threatening to kill me, fighting at my side….being Buffy. If I was truly honest, all the Scoobies were my family. Even that stuffy Watcher and the Harris boy. Now I understand why they didn’t like me at first. If I was them, I’d resist me being there too. Especially now. If there was ever any proof that I’m a threat to Buffy, this is it. I think Rupert would approve of what I’m doing.

As the ship pulls into the harbor, it looks deserted. I chance looking up at the sun, and I’ll be damned if I can tell if it’s day or night. We cleared the last of the ice a few hours back, but frost still covers the chains on the anchors of every ship in the port. We seem to be the only ship that has moved in quite a while.

The ship docks and the deckhands are quick to start unloading the cargo. I’m the only passenger. The rest of the ship is filled with weapons and ammunition, from America by way of England. I think half the crew thought I was some sort of spy, half didn’t know what to think. Some of the old hands I could tell knew what I was. Wearing garlic necklaces around a chap tends to make one think they know you’re a vampire. Beats me all to hell where they got the garlic.

I make my way down to where there are some trucks loading weapons. There are some men standing there in the cold, smoking some cheap cigarettes. I hand them a couple of my English silk-cuts and light them up.

<Hello, Comrades>

They all raise their heads in acknowledgment, thankful for real tobacco.

<Where would you be wanting to go?> asks the guy who looks to be the big dog.

<Yes, I do.> I pull a bottle from my coat, and show it too him. <Real vodka, lads. From before the war…>

<Stalingrad, eh…>

<Yeah, comrade. This bottle, and four more like it are all yours if you get me to Stalingrad, and overlook a few of my eccentricities…> I say, putting my arm around him.

<Eccentricities…what sort of eccentricities…>

<Well, you see, I have this thing about mirrors…and you know somewhere where I can get a good, rare steak? I mean bloody…>

Chapter Three

"Hello, Whistler."

"Hey, Buffy," he says.

"You…you know who I am?"

"Yeah," he says walking into the room. "I’m part chaos demon. Time’s not all that linear to me…"

"Chaos demons? Aren’t they the one’s with…"

"The antler’s, yeah. You should see my mom, she’s got a rack on her like you wouldn’t believe…"

I try not to laugh…I look back in the doorway, and the other man’s still standing there…

"Come in," I say.

He walks in, and looks around like the roof’s about to cave in on him. His clothes are falling apart, he smells, and he looks overall disheveled. Disheveled? Did I just use that word? Willow would be proud of me.

"What about him? Is he going to remember?"

"That’ll all be taken care of, once we get the Wicca."

"So Willow’s grandma was a witch, too."

"Until Willow, she was the most powerful one there was…"

"And the Nazi’s still got her."

"Nazis did a lot of things."

"I’m getting that picture." I look back at the other man. "And you…you up for this?"

"I don’t know much…He told me to come…and for some reason I did…"

"Well, I’m glad you’re here, but you’re going to have to get yourself together before we leave. I’m not taking any chances on this, even if it is you…"

"Me, I don’t understand…"

This is going to be hard. He’s never met me. He won’t for another fifty years. "First thing, we do we’re cleaning you up. You’re not going to be able to sneak up on anyone smelling like that…"

Elena comes up and takes him to get a shower. I sit and look at Whistler…

"If time isn’t linear for you…can you tell me what’s going to happen…?"

"I know what can happen…that’s it.."

"Do you know if he’s safe…?"

"Which one….?"

"Both of them….either…"

"Yeah…they are…"

"What happens if he kills…if he kills the other one…?"

"I don’t know. Maybe he never existed….maybe nothing…"

"Nothing…so there’s a chance he can do it, and still be here?"

"You two aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. You’ve already changed things by killing Simone…from then on, this wasn’t where you came from…"

"So…is there any way to get back…?"

"Yeah…but not for a while. You’ll have to stick it out here for a little bit…"

"How long’s a while?"

"A while, I don’t know. What do I look like, Albert Einstein? All I know is that you have to get the Wicca back…if you do that, you can take care of Willow and your boy…"

"And you’re on my side in this?"

"The Powers want you back where you belong. Things have happened back there that weren’t supposed to…"

"Angel?"

He nods… "That went down bad. You’ve got to fix it."

"How can I from here…?"

"There’s a way."

"And you’re not going to tell me, are you?"

"No, but hey, I get to go with you on this one."

"Great, just great…just what I need, you’ll annoy the Nazis to death…"

"Buffy?" said Elena. "She was standing in the doorway, glancing back down the hall.

"I think he’s presentable, now…He’s just dressing."

"Good. Any line on what we talked about before?"

"Yes…she’s in Spain…"

"We’ll pick her up on the way…"

"Buffy, I have some reservations about this…I mean…"

"I thought we talked about this. I’m as good a person to tell her as anyone. Probably better."

"Yes, of course, but she’s…"

"We need her…besides, you want what happened last time to happen again. We have to get there before Darla and her little buddy gets a line on her…"

"Yes…you’re right…I’m just…hesitant…"

"I understand…but this is the only way…"

Elena glances back down the hall… "He’s ready…"

"Bring him in…"

He walked in the room, his head hung low. They had put him in dark brown pants and a British military sweater, the kind with the patches on the shoulder. He looked good, more like I remembered. His hair was longer, and combed off of his face, thought the stray strand fell out here and there.

I walk up to him, and move one away from his eyes. He steps back, afraid.

"I won’t hurt you….I’m Buffy…"

"Hello," he says, his eyes darting down to the floor, then back up at me… "I’m…"

"Angel…I know…"

Chapter Four

My hair is almost dry when there’s a knock on the door. I shake it loose, and throwing the towel on a chair I open the door to find Joseph standing there, looking a little wigged.

"Miss Summers? Can I talk to you?"

"Sure…come in," I say, tightening the robe around me. I don’t know what I’m worried about, he’s a married man, but hey guys are guys. They look. That was the whole point of dyeing my hair today. Hitler’s guys are looking for a blonde, not a brunette, and the other Spike only saw me for a minute, so he probably wouldn’t recognize me. I’m not fooling myself, though. I’m still me. My Spike would spot me in a second.

"You look…different…" he says.

"Disguise…" I say, sitting in the chair next to the window. The view is pretty good. I’ve never been to Spain before, and Barcelona is a very pretty city. I wish I could go out during the day, but what I’m here to do doesn’t happen when the sun’s out.

"I…I just want to thank you for letting me come along," he says sheepishly. "I know you didn’t have to."

"Well, it’s going to be a lot easier to get Sarah to come with us if you’re there…and I mean come on…were-bear," I laugh.

"Still..it means a lot to me…I was wondering a couple of things…"

"Go ahead…ask…"

"The men we’re with…they…they’re not human are they?"

"No…Angel’s a vampire..and Whistler…I don’t know exactly what Whistler is, but he’s not human."

"You trust them?"

"Yes…"

"Then so will I. Elena told me who you were…"

"That whole Slayer Queen bit, huh…well, glad one of us believes it…"

"I do. I have to. If anyone can free my Sarah, it is you…"

"It’s gonna be us, Joseph. I need you there, too."

"I…I’m not much of one for combat, Miss Summers…"

"Buffy…and you could have fooled me…"

"Yes, well, I hope so…can you tell me what we are to do tonight, or is it something I don’t need to know…"

"We’ve got one more person to pick up before we go after Sarah…"

"Oh…so no violence tonight then…"

"I wouldn’t bet on that, Joey…"

"Joey…Sarah called me that…"

"She will again. Just go get ready. We’re going to leave as soon as the sun sets…"

As he shuts the door behind him, I get my clothes out for the night and spread them on the bed. Ankle length leather jacket, black riding pants with matching boots and a red blouse. I don’t care much for the boots, but the 1940s don’t seem big on ladies’ combat wear, especially not in petite. I dig the weapons out of the false bottom of the suitcase Elena gave me, and hide them on myself as I dress. Looking in the mirror, I realize why Spike likes the duster look. Not only does it look good, it hides a lot. Something seems off, though. I look deadly, ready to kill. The last time I felt this way was the night I went after Faith. I don’t know why I dressed up like this tonight. I’m not planning on killing anything more than any other night. It’s not that special. Then I look at myself again and realize. I’m dressed like him. Down to the red shirt. Only the hair is wrong. But that’s okay. I’m sorry, Spike, wherever you are. Peroxide blonde may work for you, but it’s just not my thing. I spend a couple of minutes braiding my hair, and I’m almost ready. I take the cross from my neck, and slip the ring onto the chain. The last thing I want is someone taking it while I’m gone.

I walk into the hall, and find the three boys waiting for me. Angel’s in a trenchcoat, and I almost laugh at how typical that is. I’ve decided the less I speak to Angel the better. He’s not the Angel I know, and from what Whistler has said, just by being here, he never will be. Whistler’s wearing his same crappy suit, and Joseph is in a gray tweed suit that Giles would just salivate over, I’m sure. I almost feel bad for the suit. It’s going to be ruined if he has to shift.

"Don’t you look like you mean business. Where to?" asks Whistler.

"Where else? Show me the biggest cemetery…"

We get there, and it’s already started. She’s surrounded by four vampires, and she’s doing okay for her first time out. She gets one of them with a neat roll, and does a nice little back-flip maneuver, but one gets her from behind. When you’re starting, they always get you from behind. What am I saying, even five years in, they can still get you from behind. At least now it’s only the really good ones.

I stake the vampire that’s holding her while Angel takes out the other one. She goes to run but runs straight into Angel. Even with a soul, Angel is too much vampire for a beginning slayer. Good thing for her he’s got one. He holds her until the rest of us catch up…

"Do you speak English?" I say. I may come from California, but I only know sorority Spanish. Uno mas cerveza, por favor.

"Yes…"

"Good…good….You’re Maria, right?"

"Si…"

"Hi, I’m Buffy. Bet this has been happening a lot lately, huh?"

"Si…the last four days…they’re everywhere….you…you are going to kill me…"

"No….Angel, let her go…"

She looked up at him, not quite trusting him. I don’t blame her. Angel in vamp mode is one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen. Lucky for her this is the PG-13 version. My friends are dealing with the full NC-17…or didn’t, from what Whistler said.

"Who…who are you?" she asks.

"Like I said, I’m Buffy, that’s Angel" I say, pointing. He shifts back into his normal face, and does the bashful shuffle again. Geez, was he always this goofy?

"That’s Whistler, and this is Joseph. We’re here to help you…"

"Help me…help me what?"

"Help you be a slayer…."

"A slayer…what is that?"

Oh goody. Time to channel Giles…. "Unto every generation…."

I think I say the speech right. I should. I’ve heard it enough. I bet Giles would have given me a cookie.

"And…you…you are my…Watcher?"

"No," I say. "We’ll get you a watcher later. Right now we don’t have time for that…"

"So…if you are not a watcher…and you are not a vampire…you’re just a girl…"

"No…I’m a slayer."

"But I thought you said there could be only one…"

"Yeah, well…these are special circumstances…"

"So..you’re just like me?"

"Just like you. Maybe a little older, more experienced. But I’m just a girl. Just like you."

"Not quite, darlin’" says Whistler. He points to me, and says "She’s the Slayer Queen…"

I really wish people would get off of that…

"What is the Slayer Queen…?"

I look at Whistler, waiting for him to answer.

He looks at me, then at Angel, who looks like he wants to know, too.

"Well….she is," he says, pointing to me. "I’ve only seen the one…."

"What no wisdom from the Powers that Be? No ‘How to be a Slayer Queen in Ten Easy Lessons’?"

"As far as I know, honey, you’re writing the book…"

"Excuse me," said Maria… "You still haven’t told me what…"

"Just do what she does," says Angel quietly. "And you’ll be okay…"

I look at him, and I see some of the Angel I knew. The one that knew what to say. She was scared, and he saw it. I didn’t. She’s still scared, and what I’m going to ask her isn’t going to make her any less scared.

"Maria…are your parents still alive?"

"No…no, they’re not. The vampires got them the first night…I…I couldn’t stop them. There were too many. I ran…" she says, starting to cry.

I wince. This wasn’t going to be easy. "Maria…I’ll make you a deal…we help you kill the vampires that got your parents…and then you’ll help us do something, okay."

She smiled through her tears and stood a little straighter.

"Si…I would like that very much…"

"Okay," I say, handing her a stake. "Let’s get it done."

We were on our way to Italy in less than an hour.

Chapter Five

The engines make that funny noise, like in those old movies that Spike makes me watch, when the toy plane flies over the map and they draw a line from one place to another to tell you where you’re going. I always thought that was kind of silly, but they really do make that noise. In those kind of movies there’s usually a brass monkey’s head or a gold cup or something the hero is chasing. Not this time. But hey, at least I got the villain right. Everything’s coming up Nazis.

I can see the tops of the mountains through the clouds. The sun’s not out, but the moon is, and there’s a lot of snow, so everything is kind of white. I’m wondering what the crack is running down the mountain when I realize it’s my hair. Still not used to the black. I wonder what Spike will say about it…geez, Buffy, obsess much? When did this start. First I’m dressing like him, now I’m worried what he’ll think about my hair. Of course, that’s assuming I ever see the jerk again. I can believe he did it. Can’t believe he left. Just like Riley. Just like Angel. What’s his excuse? He loves me? What is it with that? I get all the ‘I love you so I got to go’ types…I thought Spike was different. I always thought Spike was the type where I could shove a nuclear bomb down his pants and he’d be there the next night trying to convince me to buy him a bloomin’ onion at the Bronze…You could always depend on Spike to hit you up for some food or some cash….who am I kidding…. Lately, I could depend on him, period.

"They’re the Alps…"

I look up, and realize someone’s talking to me…

"The mountains…they’re the Alps…."

Angel. Sitting on the other side of the plane, he’s got his face buried in a book. Maria is in the seat next to him, asleep on his shoulder. He won’t look at me for some reason.

"The Alps…"

"Yeah….Hannibal crossed them with a herd of elephants…"

"What for?"

He looks up at me, just for a second, then back down at the book.

"War…"

"Oh," I say, and look back out the window.

"You’re thinking about him, aren’t you…."

"Thinking about who…?" I haven’t told him about Spike.

"I don’t know. But you’re thinking about someone…"

"Yeah…yeah I am…"

"Do you know where he is?"

"No…"

"He left…?"

"Yes…"

"Do you love him…"

This is not the conversation I want to be having. Not with Angel, even if it’s not my Angel.

"I…I don’t want to talk about this…"

"I’m sorry…I won’t say anything else…"

Wait. What am I doing…this isn’t my Angel.

"Angel…"

"Yes…"

"Can you tell me about someone…"

He looks up, and sets his book on his lap.

"If I know them…sure…"

"You know them. William the Bloody. Spike…"

He gets that crinkly forehead thing he does when he gets all I’m 200 something years old, Buffy, I know better…

"Why do you want to know about him?"

"Fine…don’t tell me…"

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Chapter Six

There were corpses lying on the side of the road. An arm here, a torso there. They were frozen, and stood there like statues, waiting for the birds to come and have their way with them. My boys in the truck wouldn’t look at them.

I could. I’ve seen my share of dead bodies before. Made most of them. Only once did it ever hurt me to look at one.

Three of my new comrades were passed out asleep in the back when the truck pulled in front of us. The driver reaches down for his pistol. I’d bet it was forty years old. Looked like he took it out of his grandfather’s pantry.

By the looks of the goose-steppers walking up to the truck, if his son was to ever have it, he’d have to pry it from the proverbial cold dead hand.

Before they get too close, I slip out the backside, stealthy-like. I’m about the high-tail it into the woods when I hear the click. That click of a bullet being slid into the chamber. The krauts are going to kill my mates, and what am I doing? Running. Like a nancy-boy. Damn it, I never used to run. Never. Not even from a Slayer. I went after them, not the other way around. Buffy’s the first Slayer I’ve ever run from, and it’s not like I’m scared of her killing me. I’m scared of me killing her. Dammit, thinking of Buffy again. This would be a lot easier if she wasn’t in every other thought. It’d be a lot easier to leave these blokes to die. It’s war, people die, right? Aw, sod it, I gotta go do the hero bit, don’t I? Oh, well it’ll be worth the headache…

Only there isn’t one. I come round the corner before they even know I’m there, and catch one with a good kick to the head. One fires his Luger at me point blank in the chest, and I feel the bullet, but then I realize. My head doesn’t hurt. My chest hurts like a son of a bitch, but my head….clear as a bell. Chip is taking a siesta. Good for me. Bad for the Nazis.

I rip them apart, and it feels good. Almost too easy, though, I’ve gotten used to more resistance, what with having to go after demons the last two years. Wonder if this is a permanent state of affairs. I look up, and my truck driver buddy is looking at me like I was Lenin’s ghost. I look at my hands and I realize there’s blood all over them. I put a finger in my mouth and lick it clean. He pulls a draft from his bottle of vodka, shrugs his shoulder, and says <Eh…get in…>

I step around and hop up into the cab. He’s looking back down at the bodies of the Germans in the snow.

Turning to me, he takes another drink.

<Why don’t you take a drink?> he says.

<No, comrade. I’ve had enough for tonight.>

<No…I mean some of the ‘good stuff’> he laughs, pointing at the bodies.

I realize I’m still in game face. I shift back to my human face, and take a swig of the vodka instead.

<Nah, comrade. I’m trying to quit.>

Taking the bottle back from me, he looks at me as though he’s measuring me.

<Ah….I understand.>

This ought to be good.

He puts the truck into gear, and we start down the road.

He smiles at me, and taps on the bottle in his hand…

Chapter Seven

You’ve got to be kidding me. A freakin’ castle?

"You’ve got to be kidding me…."

"No, Miss Summers, this is the place…."

"I thought I told you to call me Buffy, Joseph. And how do you know?"

"I can smell her…I can smell my Sarah…"

"How can he smell her?" asks Maria…

"You’ll see," I say. "Angel, what do you think, back way in?"

"No…cliffs…"

"Guys," says Whistler. "How ‘bout I just meet you inside?"

I look at him. He’s still wearing the same crappy suit. Even Angel has dropped the trench coat for one night, instead opting for a waist-length black jacket. Whistler…action man, he’s not.

"Sure…whatever…Angel, you go with Maria, check the upstairs rooms. Joseph, you’re with me…"

We decide to go in right where they don’t expect it. The front door. Or at least up the wall next to the front door.

I’m surprised that Joseph keeps up with us as we climb. Guess he keeps some of the were-bear when he’s normal.

We drop into the courtyard and it’s deserted.

"You’re sure she’s here?"

"Yeah…she’s here…" says Joseph.

"Fine…let’s go…"

Angel looks at me confused. "There’s someone else I want you to find," I say. "A guy, French, probably in his fifties. I don’t know his name, so don’t ask…"

"All right…"

"Just get him…."

"We’ll meet you back here….thirty minutes…"

"All right…."

He and Maria disappear, heading somewhere toward the doorway on the far wall. Maria is nervous, but Angel seems to calm her. I remember when he did that for me. Funny, though. Don’t seem to need it anymore.

Suddenly all the lights come on. I look up, and there’s a wooden platform, lit uplike a stage set up at one end of the courtyard. But it’s not a stage, it’s a gallows. Sarah’s standing on her tiptoes, her neck in the noose.

I have to cover Joseph’s mouth so he doesn’t scream out.

"Come out, Elizabeth" yells Darla…"I know you’re out there. Drusilla saw you coming…"

She’s in full SS femme gear. God, first a Catholic school girl, now this? What’s next, she gonna attack me in a French maid’s outfit?

I can’t do much from back here. I do what she wants. I motion for Joseph to stay put, and I step out in the open.

She looks at me, and I can tell I’m not exactly what she’s expecting…

"You…you look…"

"Gorgeous? Beautiful? Fetching…oh, I know….like I’m going to kick your ass?"

I look around. There’s no one there but us. No guards, no snipers. Nothing.

God, Darla is stupid.

"You look like him…but the hair…the hair…"

"What can I say? Black is back…"

"Yeah…well. Honey…I hope you kissed William…or whoever that is good-bye when he left you….and I know he did…because you’re never going to see him again…"

There’s movement out of the corner of my eye. I catch it, but barely.

I quickly look back at Darla. Lucky for me she’s looking at Sarah.

"Oh," I say, " and why’s that…?"

"Well, two reasons, really. One is that our Spike…the real Spike…is going to kill your cheap dye-jobbed imitation…if he hasn’t already….and two…"

"Two…let me guess…’I’ll never get out of here alive, blah, blah, blah…’"

Darla grins. "Maybe you’re not as dumb as you look…"

Suddenly bullets are flying all around me. I look up and there’s a guy with a machine gun on the top of the wall behind her. I decide I need cover. So I grab the closest thing that’ll stop the bullets. Darla.

She takes a couple in the back, and the guy stops firing.

She manages to fling me off, and looks back up at the guy. "What are you waiting for, keep firing?"

I hear a loud crack from the top of the wall, and a body falls at our feet.

Darla looks up, confused.

"Who?"

"Hello, Darla…" he says.

"Angelus?!"

She turns back to me. Now she’s pissed. Good.

"Okay, you slut..."she says. "It was one thing you taking Spike. Spike is Spike. He’s nothing. But Angelus….Angelus is mine!" She pulls a Luger out and starts shooting at me. I jump at her and we slam into the support beams for the gallows.

I hear a roar behind me, and I barely get out of the way before Joseph slams into Darla. The gallows is about to collapse. Joseph turns to me and growls "Get my wife…!"

Still freaks me out that he can talk like that. I take a knife from my pocket and start cutting the rope. I look down at Sarah, she’s screaming under the gag. I hear gunshots, and Joseph yell out in pain. Before I can do anything else, the ground falls out from under my feet.

My head hurts. I feel myself pulled up by my hair. I open my eyes and my head hurts even worse. Maybe it’s the hair pulling. Or maybe it’s the gun Darla’s got to my forehead.

I look around, and I can see Angel standing there, hesitant. Joseph is crouched behind him, blood coming down one shoulder. He’s got a low growl going on.

"Darla…don’t" says Angel.

"Or what? You’re going to cry? What is it about his girl? First Spike, now you? I should have known. You’re weak. You have been ever since you got that soul…"

"Darla," says a voice from behind us. "I’d put down the gun if I were you….."

I try to look over my shoulder and I see Sarah behind us, her eyes glowing like Will’s do when she’s really pissed. Talk about resolve face.

The shattered wood from the collapsed gallows suddenly begins to crack and float. Soon enough there are shards of wood floating all around us.

Darla laughs. "I’ll still kill her before you can do anything…"

I look at the gun, and decided to try something. I’ve never done it before, but hey, always a first time.

"What is it with you and guns, Darla?"

"What?" she says, trying not to take her eye off of Sarah…

"You. You and guns. Aren’t you a vampire? Don’t you bite people anymore?"

"What do you care," she laughs. "Either way, you’re dead."

"God…Spike never taught you anything, did he…"

"What do you mean…"

"Vampires shouldn’t have to reach for their weapons," I say, reaching up and grabbing the barrel of the gun. I feel the metal twist in my hand. Cool. I’m SuperBuffy.

Darla looks down at the gun in her hand.

"How…?"

"Darla," I say…. "Bye…."

She starts to say something back , but the stakes are in her before she can get a word out.

I look down at the pile of dust at my feet. "Damn. I wanted to do that."

"Sorry," says Sarah, sheepishly. "I can’t believe you came…"

"Why didn’t you do that before?"

"They told me they had Joseph…"

"Buffy," yelled Maria from across the courtyard. I look up and she’s helping a man up the stairwell. Simone’s father. "Come! See what I’ve found!"

I follow her back down the stairwell into a big room, in what looks like an old dungeon. Everywhere I look, there are people and demons in cages, and some strapped to beds. They’re frothing at the mouth.

I can see a light through a doorway at the opposite end of the room. There are a couple of guys slumped against the wall near the door. They look like doctors, or something. I’m betting on the or something.

I walk into the next room, and the first thing I see is Drusilla lying on a bed. She’s got some kind of board around her neck, and there’s a feeding tube set up to a bag of blood. She looks at me like I’m one of her dolls.

I hear a whimper and look down. Hitler is crouched there, holding his crotch. I feel something lap against my shoes, and I realize there’s blood on the floor. I look at Hitler again and realize it’s coming from him.

" ‘Bout time you got here," says Whistler, picking his teeth. "Bonzo girl here ain’t much to talk to, and Adolf, he’s not in much of a conversationalist mood…."

"What did you do to him…?"

"Oh…nothing. Adolf just fixed me a snack is all."

I looked back down at Hitler, then back at Whistler, who just gave me a goofy grin. I decided I really didn’t want to know what he was picking out of his teeth.

There was something I did want to know, though…

"Drusilla," I say, looking back over my shoulder at her… "Let’s you and me have some girl talk…"

Chapter Eight

The snow is pretty heavy, but it is Russia in winter. Not like they’re known for their balmy tropical evenings. I’d settled in a little village outside of Stalingrad, just outside the range of the damn artillery. It was pretty much deserted. Nobody likely to stumble across me, out here. Nobody did until tonight.

He’d found me. I knew it when I found my truck driver buddy Nikolai’s head pinned to the wall outside with a railroad spike. There was a nice little note written in the snow with piss. I knew it was from him, after all a bloke knows his own handwriting.

All it said was "Boo."

I walked through the woods till I got to a clearing. He was waiting for me, standing there like a bleedin’ scarecrow.

The snow whipped around us as we walked toward each other, and began to circle….

He laughed. "Russia? A little Tolstoy of you, isn’t it, mate?"

"Yeah…well, I always liked that book…"

"Yeah…but I never made it to the end. Bloody tiresome…"

"Nah…it’s a great book. You just have to develop a little patience…I did."

"I don’t believe I want to turn into a nancy-boy like you, mate…"

"I’m not a nancy-boy. I’ve just got my priorities…"

"Your priorities are buggered if you’re shagging that slayer. You’re supposed to kill them, not screw them…"

"Don’t knock it till you try it, mate…"

He stopped and looked at me. "You mean you actually…with her…she let you?"

"Don’t worry mate, you stick around long enough…you’ll learn how it’s done…"

"Oh, and you’ll be the one to teach me, I guess…"

"No, you ponce. She will. But then I forget, you’re not going to get to stick around long enough to find out, are you?"

He cocks his head and smiles. "Aren’t you forgetting something? You’re me. I’m you. If I die, you die. You’re the one from the bloody future. I don’t care the setting, this isn’t a bloody novel, and there’s not going to be a happy ending."

"No, I suppose there isn’t. But you’re not coming anywhere near her."

"So…you the white hat in this scenario? Defending the lady? Pierre to my Dólokhov?"

"You really haven’t read the book, have you? I don’t believe I was so ill read."

"How am I wrong.?"

"Pierre wasn’t in love with the lady. Dólokhov was."

"You know, I do remember something about that. But you know what else I remember?" he says, pulling a stake from his coat…

"What’s that, mate?"

"Dólokhov dies!"

He leaps toward me, and gets me good with a sidekick to the chest. I roll over in the snow, and I’m up. I catch him a good one in the jaw.

We go on for a good long while, but I’m not getting anywhere. He’s good. Damn if anyone had ever told me I was this good I’d be ashamed to have ever lost. What am I talking about I am ashamed. And I’m not about to lose to this bloody idiot.

"So…" he says, "How is she? Rough and tumble or sweet and light? Does she bake you cookies while you put the brats to bed?"

"She’s more than you can handle, mate…"

"Oh, really…"

"And more than you deserve…"

He’s getting me angry and I slip up. He catches me with a good left hook and I’m down. He puts his foot on my chest and stares down at me.

"She’s not Drusilla, you ass. How " he says, kicking me "could …you….leave…her…"

I taste the blood as it trickles down from my nose, and the bile as it lurches in my stomach.

"I didn’t…she left me…"

"I don’t blame her…if this is the patetic mess I’ve become….You say you’re older than me…I guess that makes you from the future…I’m going to put you out of our misery…" he says, raising his stake. "I don’t know how you lasted so long…"

I think of Buffy, and smile. The next thing I feel is the stake entering my heart.

Chapter Nine

I lay there and look up him. He stares down at me. Lordy, is this what I look like when I’m shocked. Here I thought I had more reserve.

I stand up and pull the stake out of my chest. And look down at it.

"What do you think’s wrong with it?"

I step toward him, now armed with a stake in each hand.

"It’s wood, innit? You did get real wood…"

I tap the stakes together…

"Yeah, sounds like wood… oh wait, did you miss the heart?"

I look down at the hole in my chest.

"Nope…that’s the ol’ ticker all right…hmmm…what could it be…?"

He backs up against a tree…

"How…?"

It was just after sunset when there’d been a knock on the door. Nikolai starts, his head on a swivel. He stands from where he’s crouched stoking the fire. I motioned for Nikolai to answer it, but not to invite them in. As he opened the door, I saw a strand of black hair fall from underneath a hood, and heard some hushed voices as the woman said something to Nikolai. Then I heard him ask her in…

Dammit, Nikolai…

I grabbed her and turned her around. I had almost punched her when I saw her eyes. Green. Her green…

"Buffy?"

Next thing I know she smacks me across the jaw and I’m on the floor again. God, this feels familiar.

She picks me up off of the floor and backs me up against the wall…

"You…

"Stupid…

"Stubborn…

"English…

"Vampire…

"Ass…." She says, pinning me with a finger in my chest.

"Yes, luv?" I smile, and give her my best aren’t I so charming grin. And well, I am, so I figure it’ll work.

"Never….Ever…"

"Yes?"

"Leave me again."

She grabs my shirt and pulls me to her. Her lips are cold, but they’re like fire to me. She’s pulling me down and I don’t try to get up, until she has to stop to breathe…

"So…." I say, nonchalantly. "Miss me, pet?"

She hits me again, and I fall to the floor.

Nikolai bursts out laughing…

"You better be damn glad Dru told me where you were before I dusted her.." she says.

She looks at him and smiles.

"Friend of yours?" she asks.

"My chauffeur" I smile.

"Fine…ask your chauffeur to excuse us for a bit…"

I look at him and smile. He just grabs a bottle of vodka, and his coat, gives a silly little wave, and heads out the door.

"Smart guy," she says.

"Yeah, well, " I say, as she takes a seat next to me on the floor. "I don’t know about you. You shouldn’t be here, Buffy…"

"I got her back, Spike."

"The Wicca?"

"Yeah…she’s on her way to London right now. Spike…she’s the reason we’re here…."

"What?"

"Some kind of spell…she thinks she can get us back…"

"Doesn’t change a thing, luv. He’s still out there…"

"I know.It’s okay, though…"

"No, it’s damn well not. I won’t have you here," I said, picking her up off of the floor. "Leave…"

"No…"

"Fine…I will…"

She slams me against the wall again. "I thought we agreed. You’re not leaving me again…"

"Leaving you? God dammit, woman…you think I ever want to leave you? You think I want you out of my sight for one second? I see you even when I close my bloody eyes…and I like it…"

"So why?"

"Why what?"

"Why’d you leave me?"

"I’m saving you…"

"From what? You? I know you, Spike. I know what you are."

"I’m a monster. A monster that’s waiting out there," I say pointing to the storm outside. "A monster waiting to kill you…"

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Reaching up, she runs her hand through my hair.

"No…you’re a man. A man that’s right here. A man I’m waiting to love me…"

Oh, bloody hell. That did it.

I take her head and pull her to me, ripping at the cloak she’s wearing. She pops buttons tearing my shirt off, and we’re on the floor. We tear at each other, almost savage. But it’s gentle, too. I feel everything at once. Everything about her and me. The hate, the pain, the fear…the love. I’m damn well alive.

She lays there, her head on my chest. I’ve a strand of her hair in my fingers, running little circles with it.

"You like?"

"The hair? Of course, luv…"

"No…I mean…the…y’know…"

I laugh. "Sure as hell popped the cork on my champagne bottle. It was beautiful, Buffy."

"It was, wasn’t it…"

"I never thought it would happen."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t either. Shows what we know."

"Luv…there’s still a problem…"

"The gang will just have to get used to it…"

"No…I mean, yes, they will…they will?"

She laughs and looks up at me. "What, you think this was a one time thing? I told you. You’re never leaving me. You’re mine."

"I’m fine with that, luv. Really, I am…"

"But…"

"But we still have a problem. He’s still out there…"

"Spike…I’m going to ask you something, and please, don’t say no…"

"You asked me how, mate? There’s a very simple explanation."

"What’s that, you git?" he said.

"My lady she asked me a question right before I came out to have our little tête-à-tête…"

He makes a move to get by me, and I slam him back up against the tree.

"Right before…"

"Oh yeah…and before you ask….Dru’s dust…"

I see the anger in his eyes. He lashes out and I kick him in the groin.

"You see, my Buffy, she’s a very non-traditional type of girl. She asked me to wear her ring." I say, flashing the Ring of Amara. "And what’s a boy to do?"

I push his head back against the tree. "You asked me how I lasted so long?" I ask…

"Yeah…"

"Simple…I cheat."

And I kill the monster.

Chapter Ten

We get back to London three days later, by way of Spain. I finally got to take that daylight tour of Barcelona, this time with Spike holding my hand the whole way. That night we drank a little bit too much Sangria. I told Spike it was the closest he was ever going to get to getting me to drink blood. He said that was fine with him, if I acted like that every time I drank it.

So I got a little drunk.

And danced on a few tables.

I had a good time. I know Spike did.

When we got to the Council building, Spike was a little cautious going in.

"What’s wrong, Spike…."

"Buffy…I don’t think we should tell them the chip doesn’t work. And the ring…"

"They don’t know anything about the ring. And even if they did, what are they going to do rip it off of your hand?"

"You did once…"

"Yeah…well…I’m the only one who can…so don’t worry about it…"

We walk into the Council chamber, and we see Elena, Joseph, Maria, and Sarah looking at us. You’d think they’d be happier to see us.

"What’s wrong…"

"We can get you back…but there’s a problem" says Elena.

"A problem. Of course there’s a problem. There’s always a problem." I say.

"What kind of problem?"asks Spike.

"It’s my fault," says Sarah. "I thought…well, I didn’t think, I just needed help, so I asked the Powers…"

"The problem, Sarah?"

"The way I got you here…it only worked because there was a certain mystical convergence…a certain alignment of stars…."

"Okay," said Spike… "So you’re saying that you have to wait for this alignment again."

"Yes…"

"So when is the next alignment," I ask…

"December 21…" says Sarah…

"Well," said Spike. "That’s not too bad. It’s November, now…"

"1954…:" says Elena.

Huh?

"Say that again…." I can’t believe this.

"You’re stuck here…for another eleven years."

I look at Spike. I don’t know what to think.

"Well, luv. It’s like we’re going to have plenty of time to think of how to break it to the Scoobies."

Chapter Eleven

I learned a lot in the next eleven years.

I learned to love the English countryside.

I learned that marriage is a good thing.

I learned that Slayer Queens apparently don’t age past 22.

I learned that Spike is ticklish in the small of his back.

I learned that it’s okay for someone else to do the slaying for awhile.

I learned that I love taking long walks with the man I love.

I learned that blood pudding is as nasty as it sounds.

I learned that the Ring of Amara lets a vampire do a lot more than I thought it did.

I learned what Spike’s real hair color is.

I learned how much I miss my sister.

I learned there is life without television.

I learned how to cook. Okay, I learned how to watch Spike cook.

I learned what it’s like to have in-laws.

I learned Elena was a great lady.

I learned what it was to be a mother.

When the knock on the door came, we both knew who it was. Whistler and Elena stood there, with Angel behind them. I hadn’t seen Angel since that night in Italy eleven years earlier, and he looked the same. He hadn’t gone back to eating rats in the street. Whistler said he’d been living in Los Angeles. I guess some things never change.

Sarah and Joseph had arrived the night before, with their son. I didn’t know if I could ever look Willow’s dad in the face ever again. It’s hard to think of a man seriously when you’ve changed his diapers.

Spike sat rocking our son to sleep. He had been born earlier that year, a miracle we attributed to the Ring of Amara. We had been so lucky. We had argued over the name, but finally settled on one when Spike saw how much it meant to me. He still thought the name was silly.

Elena walked in and hugged me. Elena was as close to me as anybody except Spike. For some reason, she reminded me of family. She had never married, instead devoting her life to the Watchers. I told her it wasn’t too late, but she didn’t believe me. She was stuck in her own time, thinking herself an old maid. Spike told her more than once she was full of crap, and I agreed.

I felt Sarah tug at my arm. "It’s time, Buffy…"

I nodded, and reached out to take Spike’s hand. I looked up at him and smiled. He had dyed his hair back the night before. He looked just like I remember him that first night outside the Bronze, down to the duster. Except I never imagined that Spike being father to a child. Much less father to my child.

Sarah did her stuff and a portal opened. Angel stepped beside us. He was going with us. Whistler had said, this was how we were going to fix the Angel problem. Apparently one of the gang had actually managed to stake Angelus. But we still needed an Angel. Whistler said he wouldn’t remember a thing about this timeline, but he assured us we would. He said we deserved that much. I told him we’d gotten more than enough out of our time here. He said, "You remember you said that, kid."

I didn’t know what he meant, then. I do now.

Spike held my hand as we walked through the portal. All of a sudden he stopped.

"What’s wrong…"

"It won’t let him through…."

He turned back to Sarah, angrily. "Why won’t it let him through…"

Elena looked at Sarah, then back at us. "Of course…"

"What?!" I screamed.

"Only one living being came through eleven years ago. Only one can go back now!"

"No! I’m not leaving my child…"

"Buffy," said Spike, gently holding my hand. "He’ll be in good hands…"

"Spike…."

"He’ll turn out just fine, Buffy…you’ll see him again…"

"You don’t know that…"

Turning back and handing our son to Elena, he kissed me gently. "Yes…we will…think about it…it all makes sense now…"

I realized he was right. Walking back to Elena, I kissed my son on the head one last time.

"Buffy," said Sarah…"If you guys are going, go now…"

I looked back to see Angel standing waiting for us. Spike pulled me away and through the portal.

I cried so hard when I got to the other side, I buried my head in Spike’s chest.

"No…no…."

"It’s all right, luv…it’s all right…"

"Buffy! Are you all right?"

I looked up and saw Xander running toward us. We were back in the cemetery, where it had all started.

Willow came running up behind him. "Buffy, Spike…you’re all right…and Angel…"

"ANGEL?!" said Xander. "Where?"

Angel slunk back against the door of the crypt.

"It’s okay guys. It’s Angel…not Angelus…"

"He’s alive…You’re alive…"

"Yes," said Angel. "I’m alive…and you are…?"

"Good one," said Xander. He looked at me. "I guess this mean nobody ever stays dead anymore?"

"Guess not…." I try to laugh but I’m still crying.

"I’m just glad you guys are back…"

"Yeah, you ponce," said Spike, "And so are we…come here, you," he said, giving Xander a hug. I think Xander wouldn’t have been more shocked if Angel had been wearing a dress.

I decided Spike was right. I grabbed Willow and hung on for dear life…

"Buffy…I’m glad you’re back…what’s wrong…was it…was it horrible…?"

"No," I say, looking at Spike…"It wasn’t horrible…it wasn’t horrible at all.."

"You’ve been gone three days…where were you guys…..?" asked Xander.

"You wouldn’t believe us if we told you…"

Epilogue

She sat there the whole night just looking at him. I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking it too.

"We can’t tell him, luv…"

"Why not?"

"Because…it’s not really him…"

"Isn’t it…?"

"No, luv…it’s not…"

She smiled at me, and quickly covered my ring hand, so Giles couldn’t see the Gem of Amara staring him in the face.

"So…what do you have to tell me that you couldn’t say in front of the other’s…

"We….we…are…." she started…

"We are wanting your approval, mate…"

"Of what…?"

I lifted her ring finger so he could see her wedding band.

"Of us…"

"Of…oh…OH….."

"Since Joyce is gone, I figure you are who I go to for this."

"Are you asking me for Buffy’s hand in marriage…?" He said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them like he always does when he’s nervous.

"I suppose I am…"

"Well…Buffy…"

"Giles…say yes…I did…"

"Then yes, yes of course…are you sure?"

"Yes, Giles…I’m sure…"

"Yes…then congratulations…this is awfully sudden, you’ll apologize if it takes me a little off guard…"

"No problem, mate. It took us off guard as well. Took us a little while to get used to it…"

"About 6 years…" says Buffy…

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Well, if that’s all, I’m going to retire for the night…and Buffy…thank you…"

"For what…"

"For considering me…your fa…your family on an occasion like this…."

"No problem," she said, the tear welling up in her eye. "