Title: Leaving Flowers in Her Graveyard
Author:
Beta: neverneverfic
Rating: NC17.
Setting: Post-"Checkpoint."
Pairing: Spike/Wesley, Tara/Willow, Anya/Xander.
Words: 20,000.
Warnings: Character deaths, non-con, and violence.
Notes: Second part of Monsters Inside.

She'd attempted to stay in Los Angeles for several months, refusing to go back to Sunnydale. She'd made her life here, and she needed Dennis. Giles was kind enough to send her money for food and rent. And before Angel went missing, he'd made sure that all her medical bills were paid out of his account.

About once a week, Cordelia received a visitor from Sunnydale. Everyone except for Buffy; she was rather busy fighting Spike and Wesley, plus anything else that crawled out of the Hellmouth. They would give her little updates, but Cordelia could tell that they weren't making any progress fighting them. Angel, if he was even still alive, hadn't been found.

After the hundredth time that Giles had asked her to come back to Sunnydale, she gave in. Cordelia sat in the passenger seat of Giles' Beemer as they drove to Sunnydale. "What's been going on the Hellmouth?" she asked. They hadn't spoken much, not since he'd seen her. It seemed to be a predictable reaction even if on the phone they talked quite a bit and he'd visited before. "Any new Big Bads on the radar besides...?"

"Only a Hell God," Giles answered. "Took us a while to figure out what we were dealing with. The Council left yesterday, after Buffy threatened the last bit of information out of them. She did a mighty good job, even made them pay up for firing me."

"Did you tell them about Wesley?" She adjusted her skirt. "I...I couldn't find his parents' phone number anywhere. I thought that they should know."

"Welcome to Sunnydale," Giles read the sign as they passed by it. He sighed. "I informed Quentin Travers, head of the Council, of the situation, and I'm sure he'll pass along the information to Wesley's parents."

Cordelia fiddled with her purse. "I never thought I'd be back here. But I guess when you have nowhere else to turn. When your only friends..." She stopped; she was going to start crying again.

"It's not a problem, Cordelia," Giles said. "There's always enough room for one more." The children always came home, and when they did, he just made room. He slowed down as they neared his house. That was what middle-aged people did; they drove sport cars slowly down the roads that led to their homes and owned small businesses. They didn't fight demons or know girls who received visions.

After helping Cordelia inside, Giles returned for her baggage. Buffy'd scheduled a Scooby meeting later for the day after Anya closed the Magic Box. He didn't want to move Cordelia too much, so they were all coming over to visit her. "I hope this isn't going to be overwhelming for you," he said as he placed the bags inside. "I'm afraid there's only the couch. I wasn't...I had lack of foresight when I moved here."

"You didn't expect Buffy to live this long, did you?" Cordelia said. "And don't worry about me. Angel." She paused and smiled. "Angel did enough worrying for all of us."

"And I'm sure that he's still worrying." Giles took of his glasses and polished them. "How about dinner before they show up? I'm a bit hungry myself." Cordelia and Giles ate dinner in relative silence. It seemed that they'd both lost the art of small talk.

The Scoobys flooded Giles' apartment and said their hellos to Cordelia. Everyone expressed their happiness that she'd decided to move back to Sunnydale, but like Giles, they really didn't know what else do say or do.

"So these visions," Buffy said, "like a television of evil inside your head?" She picked a cookie off the coffee table and bit down. She was glad that Cordelia couldn't see her. Couldn't see how defeated everyone looked. Couldn't see the long scar that cut down the right side of her face from above her ear to the bottom of her chin. Wesley had made it with his knife in one of their fights. Couldn't see that she spent too much time worrying about the safety of her friends, her mother's health, protecting Dawn from Glory, and keeping Wesley and Spike in check. Couldn't see how she was just a young woman whose boyfriend ran off when she spent too much time trying to rescue her ex-honey.

"With splitting migraines that feel like my brains are going to bleed out my ears," Cordelia answered. They expected that; something witty from her, reminding them of the old Cordelia who traded insults with them. It was an act she put on every time they visited her, bound to fade now that she was here.

"We're always glad to have another player on our side," Buffy said.

"Especially since Wesley and Spike seem to be winning," Anya spoke up. She perched on Xander's lap since there was no more room in Giles' small apartment. "You really should get a bigger place."

"If Giles' place gets too small, you can always move in with us," Xander said. He took Cordelia's hand, despite dirty looks from Anya. "We have a pretty good sized spare room."

Cordelia smiled. "Thanks, but I think that I'll stay at Giles for a little while."

"Any new developments, Buffy?" Giles asked. He walked into his kitchen to make tea.

"The Council's still here," she said, biting another cookie. "They're holed up in some abandoned house. I assume that they're planning to take on Wesley and Spike, since I haven't been able to take care of them."

"Buffy," Willow said, "that's not true. You've tried. And you're going to keep trying until they can be sucked up with a Hoover."

"That's...that's right," Tara added. She smiled at Willow and held her hand. "You have plenty of things besides Spike and Wesley to worry about. You're doing all you can."

Buffy frowned. "Giles, I need to know about the Council's methods when they fight. How many will they have, who will be leading them, and their tactics."

"Unfortunately, the Council didn't do field work when I was with it." Giles carried a tray of cups with him. "And what they did were only hit squads. Though I do imagine that Roger Wyndam-Pryce, Wesley's father, is leading the effort. He's quite the pompous berk."

"Like father like son," Buffy snorted. "What does 'berk' mean anyway?"

Giles ignored her inquiry. Now wasn't the time to give her a lesson in British slang. "From what I heard, he was a bit tough on Wesley. Always pushing him, a bit more than the other fathers. My own father was no joyride when it came to enforcing my responsibilities, but Roger always did take things a step further."

"So he's probably just stupid enough to go after Wesley himself," Buffy assessed. "Suppose they'll reward me if I have to save their butts?"

"But you're not doing this alone, Buffy," Xander said. He moved away from Cordelia and put his arm around Anya's waist. "You can't protect them and fight off vampires."

"We've...we've been working on spells," Tara offered.

"That's right." Willow smiled. "Instant sunlight to dust those vamps."

Cordelia snorted. "Only problem - Angel's a vampire. And last time I checked, you're also supposed to save him."

"Balls of sunshine aside," Giles interrupted. "The point is, Buffy, that you need a team backing you up on this one."

******

"Don't think I'm so incompetent now, do you?" Spike said as his whip came lashing down on Angel's flesh. "Wesley and I are running this little operation better than you, better than Angelus did. I might get to drink the Slayer's blood yet."

Angel spit blood in Spike's direction from the wound he'd received earlier. His body throbbed with pain as it did everyday. Every hour, every moment since Wesley had used that damned taser on him. Wesley had left Angel as a present for Spike. Spike's attempts at breaking Angel were less than what was needed. There were only so many times one could pour holy water on his sire.

Spike threw a bottle of beer against the wall. "You obey me! Got it?"

Angel laughed. "You never did understand, Spike." But Angel understood - Angelus knew. Spike couldn't kill him; he'd been a gift from Wesley. And one didn't piss off Wesley. Everyone knew that, even Spike.

"You really shouldn't be upset with him." Wesley was home. His skin flushed, back from the hunt. "It's not Angel's fault that you don't understand the delicacy of torture. But then again, maybe Angelus was a bad teacher."

Spike remembered Angelus' lessons, being chained to the walls for days and beaten, fucked into submission. While Wesley had more of a psychological approach in addition to the other thoroughly tested methods. Angelus never had that kind of patience with Spike. He would grow tired of Spike's insolence and turn his attentions toward Darla or Drusilla. But Wesley only had Spike.

"Then join me, and we can do this together," Spike said.

Wesley summoned one of their minions to bring the girl that he was saving for later. She wore a slinky black dress and dark makeup, clearly, too scared to scream; her parents were probably waiting at home. "How long since you've fed your pet?"

"A few days," Spike answered. "Pig's blood. Nasty stuff. Would rather take mine from the jugular of a pretty..."

"And how do you break your pet of his bad habits?" Wesley moved closer with his hand firmly pulling the girl.

"Punish him." Spike licked his lips and smiled.

"Correct." Wesley and the girl were now in Angel's cage. "And we punish him by making him do something that he doesn't want to do."

"I make Angel drink from her."

"You're catching on." Wesley smiled and rewarded Spike with a kiss. He broke away. "When you're done, join me." He walked out of the cage and left Spike, Angel, and the girl alone.

Spike grabbed the girl and vamped. She started to scream as he pulled her closer and took a drink.

The smell of fresh blood permeated the air. Angel was hungry; the demon inside wanted to sink his fangs in and enjoy.

Spike removed his fangs from her. "Your turn." He shoved the girl toward Angel.

Her blood slowly began to pool around her wound and dripped onto Angel. He froze with horror. Blood lust ragged in him, as did the guilt of his conscious. She was going to die with or without his help; Spike had made sure of that. But he couldn't.

"Going to eat her or not." He was becoming more irritated and impatient with Angel. Reaching down, he yanked the girl off Angel's lap.

Still frozen, Angel watched with guilt and jealous horror as Spike raped the girl. He couldn't move, much less save her. Of course, he - Angelus - had done this sort of thing hundreds of times; farmer's daughters, nobel's sons, nuns, they were all the same.

When Spike was finished, he discarded the girl onto Angel's lap again and zipped up his pants. "See what happens when you don't eat. You might as well have given a go to the bird yourself." He left Angel with her soon to be corpse and climbed the stairs to the room he and Wesley shared.

Wesley - and his love of irony - had chosen an abandoned church to set up in. It had been large and austere when they first came, but now the ground level was filled with their minions and various moochers. Wesley eventually made them all work for their lodging or he'd start killing them.

He'd made the attic room their personal area. No one was allowed in, sometimes not even Spike. There was a concealed door, leading to a back stairwell to the sewers, just in case.

"Shower," Wesley ordered the moment Spike stepped in the room. He poured himself another drink. "You stink of that human. He didn't drink from her, did he?"

As Spike stripped and climbed in the shower, he answered. Of course, Wesley already knew and there was nothing to justify it besides Angel's own willfulness. While toweling off, Spike looked at Wesley and noticed that he wasn't wearing any clothing. Maybe he wasn't so undeserving after all even if he couldn't get Angel to eat.

Wesley moved away as Spike climbed on the bed. "You've been a naughty boy."

"Don't tell me." Spike reclined on the pillows. "Naughty boys need punishment." He smirked and raised an eyebrow at Wesley.

Wesley rolled over and kissed Spike on his cheek. "But punishment can be saved for later." His lips crushed against Spike's, taking every thought, every rebuttal from his brain. Wesley tasted of Scotch from the bottle they'd stolen from the liquor store on their way to Sunnydale. He reserved it for special occasions.

Spike broke away. His mind was kicking itself for this, but he had to know. "What's going on?" Wesley never acted like this, never lost his control in liquor or sex. Even when he came, Spike watched as Wesley held a part of himself back. There was never gentleness.

Shrugging him off, Wesley moved down to Spike's chest, flickering his tongue over Spike's nipple. He gently nipped and licked, playing everything on Spike's arousal and moaning. He wasn't even drawing one tiny bit of blood.

Looking over at the nightstand, Spike saw a small baggie of pills. Going to regret this later. Spike gripped Wesley's shoulders and sat up, pulling Wesley to face him. "What are those?" He pointed to the pills.

"E," Wesley responded, laughing and kissed him. "Want some, Spike? They might lift that bad mood right off. Had a squatting dealer demon downstairs, figured that I'd put his good to use. I was always too uptight to try another more potent than marijuana as a human, but now I have eternity to make up those mistakes."

"What if Buffy and her little Slayer wannabes walked in? We can't lose this now, because you decided to dip in the happy pool," he growled and shook Wesley. "Not only do we have a brassed off Slayer and pals, but those Watchers haven't left."

Wesley laughed, an awful laugh that seemed to echo despite the room being well-furnished. "You just worry about feeding your pet," he said, patting Spike's head. "And I'll take care of those Watchers. It's going to be really funny to watch them run for their lives, clutching their books like the Queen's jewels."

"So that's what's rattling up your cage, the Watchers." Spike ran his hand across Wesley's jaw. "Your dad's here; isn't he?"

Wesley nodded. "Come to clean up after his evil son." He reached for the Scotch, only to be pulled back by Spike.

Spike had learned through the years, learned to notice things about people that others failed. He might not be good at planning ahead or proper torture, but he could do this. If he picked Drusilla up and put her back together after her premonitions, after Prague, he could do this for Wesley. "Hate to break it to you," he said, "but vampires are evil by nature. It's kind of written into the contract of being a soulless creature."

"But," Wesley whispered, "I was evil long before you ever knew me." He poked Spike's chest. "What does one, as a vampire, do with family from our human life?"

Spike sighed and pulled Wesley to him in a hug. Wesley's arms looping around and closing in tight. This was perhaps the first time, they'd ever done this when they were both fully awake. Though Wesley was intoxicated. Closing his eyes, Spike remembered his mother; how he'd turned her into an awful, vial creature only to kill her again. "Angelus killed his family and Dru's," Spike offered. "I killed my mum, and then put flowers on her grave every night until we left London." Usually, he left that part out, but he had a feeling Wesley already knew.

*****

Buffy had been planning to stake out the house in an attempt to find out when the Council was planning to strike, but she didn't have to. Cordelia had had a vision filled with images of Councilmen being torn apart. Wesley and Spike were striking without provocation.

The plan was simple. She'd go in first and attempt to distract Wesley and Spike. Willow and Tara would work magic to confuse the other vampires and perhaps kill a few, while Xander, Anya, and Giles played rear guard, getting people out and not letting any vamp pass without being dusted. Despite her earlier protestations, Buffy knew that they'd gotten good at this. She grimaced at the thought that her friends knew more about killing demons than about anything else.

But they'd arrived too late. Most of the fighting was already done with and only about 10 Councilmen remained fighting the vampires. Giles looked for Roger among the survivors, but didn't see him. "At least, we'll save a few," he told Buffy, trying to look on the upside of things.

Today's my birthday, she wanted to remind them. We're supposed to be having cake and ice cream, not witnessing a massacre. "Let's go in," Buffy said, taking her stake out of her jacket. She hit the pavement running. "Sorry," she said to the first vamp she dusted, "I'd love to quip with you, but I got a job to do."

Willow and Tara spotted a Watcher being bitten. Chanting a few Latin words, a mist descended and Tara pulled the man away as Willow dusted the vamp. "And they say team work is out of style," Willow smiled.

"Here's another one," Anya shouted as she helped a limping man out of the house and into the van they'd commandeered for their fighting. Giles ran to help her.

Xander shot an arrow in the direction of Wesley, who'd been hanging out in the shadows. He'd been getting pretty good since Giles had resorted to training them all. Despite his aim, Wesley caught it, snapping it in half. He reloaded, and then aimed for another vampire who was running toward him, no doubt, with direction from Wesley.

Buffy ducked as Spike swung an axe in her direction. "That'd all you got tonight, Spike?" she asked.

"I wouldn't say that, Buffy." He blocked her attempt to kick him with the handle. "That's the last thing your big poof said before we captured him. You might not get another chance."

Anya jumped onto the back of vampire and attempted to hold it still so Giles could stake it. As the vampire turned to dust, Giles grabbed a hold of her to break her fall. "Thanks," she said, shaking the dust off her shirt. "Could've twisted my ankle and that wouldn't have been pretty."

Three vampires rushed Willow and Tara who were attempting to build an energy net to keep the demons back. They knocked both the women over. Willow fell on her back and set one on fire with her angry mutterings. She stood up and looked around for Tara.

Buffy had knocked Spike's axe from his hand, but they were both still fighting strong. Spike noticed that Wesley was signaling him that it was time to go. "Sorry, Slayer," he said while blocking a punch, "Gotta run." Four vampires came to ward her off.

Tara had hit her head against a post and blackened out behind an old chair. No one had noticed besides Wesley who was ready to pull Spike out and leave. Buffy and her friends were turning this massacre around, to the wrong side. Quietly, he'd grabbed Tara and tossed her over his shoulder. They exited out the back of the house.

"More productive than we thought," Spike observed as Wesley tossed Tara's limp body in the back of the convertible, next to that of Roger Wyndam-Pryce. "This is going to be fun."

*****

Anya watched as Buffy and Xander dragged Willow away from the Council's Sunnydale hideout. Away from the bodies and dust, away from the hope of finding her lover under the safety of the rubble. Luckily, Xander was there to talk some sense into Willow, to stop her from running off to rescue Tara by herself. That would be extremely foolhardy.

They all piled in the van, tired and hungry. The remaining Council members had insisted that they could take care of themselves. No one said a word, not even Anya made an inappropriate inquiry as to Tara's status. Though she didn't know what to do with her hands. As Giles drove them back to the Summers' residence, even he didn't pipe in to give Willow a word of hope.

As Buffy opened the front door, the lights flashed on and Cordelia, Joyce, and Dawn jumped up and yelled, "Surprise." Hours earlier, Anya helped them decorate their home with a banner that read, Happy Birthday, and with balloons and streamers. There was also a cake, waiting for its candles to be lit and blown out in a wish. Living in Sunnydale and being in the company of an ex-vengeance demon had taught everyone to avoid wishes.

"What's wrong, honey?" Joyce asked. Her smile faded into a frown as Buffy relayed to her what had happened. "I'm sure you'll get her back," Joyce said after a while.

The Scoobies all sat on the couches and chairs. Presents surrounded them; presents they'd lain there before the fight. Willow looked on the verge of tears as her fingers played with the ribbon on the present she and Tara were giving to Buffy: what to get for a Slayer who has everything.

Cordelia had been silent; much like Anya, she was, but wasn't, part of the gang. Maybe that was the curse of being Xander Harris' girlfriend. Of course, Cordelia had only known Tara as Willow's quiet girlfriend who she sometimes brought along on visits. They hadn't bonded. Dawn handed her a piece of cake.

Anya smiled at Giles as she ate her cake. His legs twitched, probably wanting to go home to Scotch and a book. But he couldn't be a proper drunken bachelor with Cordelia on his couch. Anything to get away from this though. Away from the party and everyone's not talking about Tara. Away from the madness of Buffy's birthday. Her birthdays always did suck. Probably hasn't had a decent one since being called.

Giles wrapped his arms around Buffy as she thanked him for his gift - a pair of shoes Dawn had helped him pick out. Useless shoes, the girl probably had 25 pairs up in her closet.

Anya followed Xander into the kitchen and slapped his bottom as soon as they were alone. They were helping Joyce clear the dishes from the cake and ice cream.

"Ouch," Xander responded and rubbed his ass. "What was that for?"

Anya frowned. "For not paying more attention to me. Now, I know that Tara missing is upsetting, but I need a little Xander attention myself." She kissed him. "It's like she was here and now she's gone. And everyone's trying to act to the same for Buffy's birthday, but it's not. And I want everything to be the same."

"And it will be." Xander put his hands on her shoulders. "You know that Buffy and the rest of us are going to do everything in our power to rescue Tara."

"Unless Willow runs off and does something stupid." Anya sat down at the counter. "It's not like Buffy's been able to save Angel, and he was her one true love," she muttered.

"An," he said, "that's unfair, and you know it. Buffy's been fighting on two fronts. She's doing all she can to keep Spike and Wesley at bay and to keep Glory from using Dawn to open the dimensions to hell."

"She must have done something pretty bad." Anya shoved a potato chip into her mouth.

"What? Why?" Xander was puzzled. He filled the dishwasher with silverware; everything else was disposable.

She shrugged. "With Dawn being the key and Spike and Wesley in town. I mean, I did the never ending problems as punishment." She put a clip across the bag of chips and stored them in a cupboard. "Two dilemmas that one cannot solve at once and both need to be taken care of immediately. For instance, I once cursed this guy to have to go pee every time he was driving. While he did solve it by peeing in a container, he was emotionally frazzled every time he was behind the wheel."

Xander nodded and gave her a weak smile. "We should probably go home. We're on Willow watch."

Anya groaned. "Why don't we just let her go after them, might do some actual damage." She followed Xander into the living room and out to their car with Willow who kept making little sighing noises every few minutes.

Xander made the couch and gave Willow a hug before he headed off to bed. He had to work the next morning. It was Anya who stayed with her. "So what do want to do?" Anya asked. "There's probably something on TV we can watch. Xander sleeps like a log, so I wouldn't worry about waking him up with the volume."

Willow shifted uncomfortably in her flannel pajamas. "I think I'd like to be alone."

"Now we'll have none of that." Anya smiled and patted her on the head. "I suppose this is like my first real slumber party. They were invented a long time after I was a little girl. So when do we eat ice cream and gossip about boys?"

"Anya, this isn't a party," Willow snapped. "Tara's been kidnapped, and you wanted to gossip about boys. Hello, lesbian."

Anya frowned. "Look Willow, I'm really sorry about what happened to Tara. And both Xander and I know Buffy will save her and everything will be okay, because that's what superheroes do. But I'm just trying to do something nice for you. I mean, we're supposed to making sure that you don't flip out and run off to fight them on your own. And I thought that maybe we could make it less painful for the both of us."

Leaning against the couch, Willow closed her eyes. Her friends had the best of intentions, but she needed to be alone. "I suppose ice cream couldn't hurt. It's pretty good for wallowing in one's pain."

Perking up, Anya dashed off to the kitchen to grab two pints of Ben & Jerry's out of the freezer. Did Super New York Fudge Chunk or Cherry Garcia make better comfort food? She pulled out the first one; chocolate, it was always chocolate in the end. After seeing more than a million broken hearts, this was something Anya knew.

*****

Tara and Roger had been thrown into Angel's cage. "Wouldn't try any mojo in here," Spike said. "Had a mage here yesterday making this place witch proof." And he left them to their own devices. He and Wesley would take care of their prisoners tomorrow.

"Are...are you okay?" Tara asked Roger, her hand on his arm.

Roger nodded. "Little girl, I was prepared to do business with the supernatural long before you were born."

An absurd captive in his cell, Angel laughed, hiding in the shadows. "Typical arrogant Watcher's Council. Think they know best." He coughed. "Fighting vampires under controlled circumstances. He's Wesley's father."

"And you must be Angel," Roger said. "The vampire with a soul. My son trusted you."

Angel snorted. "And he also trusted you." He watched Tara and Roger. "It's natural for a newly risen vampire to lash out at their human families. I killed mine, so did Spike. They reminded us of our humanity, our weaknesses. But you, Roger, I would hate to be you." Angel paused. "Once we exorcized an Ethros demon from a soulless child. Quite funny considering we all thought it was the demon causing the problems. But, anyway, I'm sure you know from your years as a Watcher that Ethros can skim minds. And it said some interesting things about you."

Tara walked closer to Angel. Spike had found it unnecessary to chain the humans. "You're bleeding. Can I help?" She reached her hand toward him.

Angel yanked away from her, the chains rattling. "Don't come any closer," he hissed. He could still taste the young woman Spike fed him earlier.

Tara jerked back in surprise. "But aren't you..."

"Just stay away." He fell silent.

Angel watched as Tara seated herself next o Roger. She had a large bump on her forehead, which Roger examined. "You'll be fine," he assured her.

Angel had heard the Ethros and been around Wesley long enough to know there was more to the story. Humans had a marvelous capacity for repression - whether that was a curse or a blessing, Angel didn't know. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but the knife marks Spike had made across his body ached.

Several hours later, Wesley made an appearance. He opened the cage door and pulled Tara out. "You're coming with me tonight." He pushed Roger away like a prop filled with styrofoam when he attempted to save Tara. "Always noble for everyone else, father." Tara struggled against Wesley as they climbed the stairs. Angel could do nothing.

Eventually Spike emerged, carrying Tara back down to the cage after Wesley was through with her. She'd passed out sometime during the proceedings. Spike didn't want to think about how much Wesley reminded him of Angelus. The torture. The rape. The death. Wesley taught him things about himself that he hadn't known. Roger and Angel remained silent as he dropped Tara on the cage floor. He turned around and walked back upstairs. Wesley would want him.

Wesley was ripping the sheets off the bed when Spike entered. A display of Tara's blood sprinkled on them. He made the bed without speaking a word to Spike. "Where are they?" he demanded when he finished. He pulled the satin cover over the bed.

"You mean these, I assume." Spike pulled the small baggie of ecstasy out of his pocket. "Thought you were done with this."

Wesley yanked the baggie from Spike's hand and backhanded him. "Don't touch my fucking stuff." He popped a pill in his mouth.

"Fuck off." Spike picked his duster off a chair. "I'm going out. And if the goody-goody Slayer and her pack of rejects stakes me, you can let my dust blow in the wind." He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and rushed down the back exit.

The night air felt cool on his skin, and he could still smell the rain. The weather had been usually cold, even for January. He haunted the alleys and graveyards looking for nothing. Not even the hunger drove him forward.

Air stalled in its path. Spike was nervous. Nervous about Wesley. He wanted Roger gone; he hated seeing Wesley hopped up on drugs. He knew that daddies never led anywhere good.

"Hey you," a woman with very curly hair shouted from the street. "Yeah, you vampire. Tell your men to back off."

Spike gave her a short laugh. "Think I'm in charge." His cigarette wouldn't light in the drizzle that had started falling. "You must the Hell God that's been playing kick the Slayer. Not very successful are we?"

"She has something of mine," Glory said. "Do you know where my key is, vampire?"

"Yeah, because the Slayer's enemies always know where she keeps her pretties." Spike couldn't believe the audacity of her. "Did you try her keychain?"

"You annoy me, vampire." Glory pushed Spike from her path; his body crumbling against nearby garbage can. The vampire's minions may be bothering her, but he was of no help. "Not now, dammit." She clutched her head. "You stupid twit."

Spike watched from the ground as she transformed into a well-built man. "Now that's interesting." He shadowed the man back to his condo where he was greeted by funny looking servants in brown robes. Wesley was going to find this very interesting.

Spike climbed the back stairwell to find Wesley in bed. Just lying there with a stupid smirk on his face. Spike shucked off his coat and boots. Then stripped before finally joining Wesley.

"So pretty." Wesley's fingers touched his face. His words slurred together attesting to just how high he was. "You could be a model, you know." His lips pressed against Spike's.

Spike relaxed against the kiss. There'd been so many times that he'd thought about skipping town, leaving Wesley behind, but somehow he always stayed. Cursed to be in continuous lust, love, and hate. He pulled back. "Guess what I found." He smiled as his hand skirted under the covers, finding Wesley was also naked.

"What?" Wesley closed his eyes and leaned against the pillows, soothed by Spike's stokes over his cock.

Spike moved so his body was on top of Wesley's. He kissed Wesley's shoulder, tongue lingering in the crevices. "The bitchy Hell God goes all human boy every so often. We can probably kill her."

Wesley grinned. "We'll send some boys tomorrow. Layman's job to kill a human even if he houses a former Hell God."

"Just want the Slayer's attention all to yourself." Spike smirked and bit down on Wesley's nipple. He wasn't sure if it was an entirely good idea, but he knew Wesley wanted to drink the blood of the Slayer, specifically that of Buffy Summers. And nothing would make him more pissed off than if Glory got to her first.

"You know me." Wesley's hand ran through Spike's hair.

"What are you going to do about the Watchers?" Spike insisted. He had stopped all his movement and looked up at Wesley. "What's going to happen now that they're bound to be pissed off?"

"Nothing." Wesley sighed and opened his eyes. The drugs seemed to be wearing off. "My father likely acted as a rogue unit. It isn't the Council's duty to punish ex-Watchers, unless they've had a direct attack. And we were the attacked. No doubt, the Council gave allowances and men because of my father's senior status. But don't expect a rescue mission by anyone other than the Slayer." Wesley paused. "My father knew the risk."

"So what now? Is he going to sit in that cell and rot?" Spike frowned as Wesley shoved him away.

"He deserves much worse than either of us could do." Wesley didn't look at Spike.

Spike attempted to snuggle back up to Wesley who was making it very impossible. "The past will haunt you until you get rid of it." He groaned as Wesley rolled him over. He knew what Wesley needed, how rough he'd make it. How the past didn't exist when Wesley fucked him.

*****

Spike woke to hear a scream throughout the building. At first, he worried that the Slayer had made a preemptive strike, but settled back down when recognized Angel's cries. Wesley. He and Wesley were the only ones allowed to touch their three prisoners. The other side of the bed was empty.

He dressed himself and crept downstairs. Wesley had thrown out their workers from the floor to spend quality time with their VIPs.

Angel was sprawled out on the ground; Wesley stood over him with a whip, bringing it down again and against on Angel's back. Tara leaned against the bars far away from them. Her lips puffed out with a new wound. Wesley had raped her in front of them, and Spike wouldn't have been surprised if he planned to do the same with Angel. Except the difference with Angel was that despite his repression and guilt over it, Angel's inner demon enjoyed the violence.

Roger seemed to be wholly untouched. Working his way toward dessert. Purposefully, Spike made a loud step to alert Wesley of his presence.

"Come to join me." Wesley's yellow eyes gazed at him. "I was just thinking about sending the girl off as a present to Buffy. I could have sworn I heard someone saying it was her birthday."

Spike stepped closer to the cage. "Don't mind--." The building quaking and a strong wind billowing outside interrupted him, but thankfully the magics didn't seem to be penetrating the church. "Someone has a brassed off witch outside."

"I wouldn't worry too much. The wards seem to be working." Wesley joined Spike outside, hanging the whip on its post. "Plus it's daylight. Her friends are bound to find her before nightfall and her magics will run out." His face softened to its human form as he pulled a small knife out. "Ready to send Buffy a little present."

"Always." Spike yanked Tara out. She was only canon fodder, an unexpected gift. Neither of them knew the girl nor cared to see her dead or alive.

Wesley stripped her of her shirt, and Spike held her close to his chest. Wesley's knifed carved into her back. Tara clenched her body next to Spike's as if she could bury herself each time the knife made another stroke. She cried; all her screams were lost on the nights before. A trail of bloody letters read, 'All my sentiments, W.'

They escorted her to the ground floor and shoved her into the daylight. Spike could barely stop his hand from reaching up to block the blinding light from filtering into his eyes, even though they were still in the shadows. Tara's hands held her shirt to her chest as Willow stopped her magic, rushing to her lover.

"Now it's time for father." Wesley closed the doors with the heavy slam.

Angel had sat up by the time they got back. He was curled up as if he could become so small that the others wouldn't notice him. The tattoo on his back glistened with blood, glaring due to his current posture.

Wesley picked up the knife and threw open the cage. The blade glazed against Roger's cheek. "Remember how incompetent I was, Father." Blood smeared across the wound.

Spike was unsure why he was allowed to watch. Except that he would surely be the one to take Wesley away from this. Reactions toward family member were unpredictable and potentially a caustic mess.

"I couldn't do anything right. Never good enough for you. Not when I was head boy or two Slayers' Watcher." The knife sliced Roger's shoulder.

Spike could smell the man's fear, but there wasn't a cry or whimper crossing his lips. No, he wasn't going to give that to Wesley.

"Bad little boys needed to be punished. Isn't that what you always said? A hovel under the stairwell or a switch. Spare the rod, spoil the child." Wesley cut the skin across Roger's neck. A shallow cut meant for pain and more blood, which produced the grunt Wesley had been searching for.

Wesley turned toward Angel. "Get up," he instructed him. Angel complied, holding himself as if his insides were going to fall out. "Drink." He shoved his father to Angel. "Now," he added with a growl.

And Angel obeyed. He didn't have a choice in the matter, knowing that Wesley would devise something far worse for Roger if he didn't comply.

Wesley smiled as he watched Angel drink from his father. This would surely teach him a lesson for every time he critiqued Wesley for working side by side with Angel. A voice deep inside Wesley recalled the love he felt for Angel, but he brushed it aside, not wanting to focus on what had made him weak as a human. But now he had control over both his father's and Angel's destinies. "Stop." He looked at Spike. "Chain your pet back up."

*****

Tara sat in Giles' living room as Anya stitched her wounds up. She refused to let Willow take her the emergency room. All she wanted to do was go home. To get away from all the things that reminded her of Hellmouth.

Willow didn't cry in front of her, but she could tell that her lover had shed tears during a bathroom break. Tara didn't feel anything about her attack. She numbed, in shock.

"We'll get them," Buffy repeated for the seventh or eighth time. "I promise you both Spike and Wesley will be dust the next time they come across my path." She wanted to ask about Angel, but she didn't dare.

"Whatever they did to me, they did ten times worse to Angel," Tara answered her unspoken question. "He's been feeding...from humans. Part of his..." Her voice trailed off as she suppressed the tears. Looking up, she saw Xander and Giles hiding near the kitchen, far away from her.

Willow's hand rubbed her back, making the knife marks itch. "Going to take care of you, baby." Her words meant nothing.

Cordelia poked the furniture with the white tipped cane she'd resigned herself to using. She was still adjusting to living at Giles. Xander had mentioned that he might make his and Anya's spare closet into a bedroom for her, but even without her sight, Cordelia saw Anya's frown. She listened as Willow agreed to take Tara home with an offer from Xander to drive them.

No one said anything on the way back to Tara's and Willow's dorm room. Xander only nodded as they got out of the car, shutting the door behind them. Once in their room, Willow took her lover into her arms. "I thought I was going to lose you. I love you."

"You shouldn't...have come after me." Tara shivered at Willow's touch; she didn't want to be touched, despite lying in the cage wishing to be back in Willow's embrace. "You can't use your magic like that. It's too dark."

Willow scowled. "I was only trying to save you." She felt as though Tara didn't appreciate her efforts.

"It's too dangerous." Sighing, Tara didn't want to have this argument. "You could lose yourself in it."

"What they did to you, I should've obliterated them," Willow spat. "They're evil vampires, and Buffy should've dusted them a long time ago. But instead she treads lightly, expecting to rescue Angel instead of unleashing our full potential on them."

Shaking her head, Tara pulled away from Willow. "I'd like to go to sleep now." Rolling over on her side, she faced away from her lover and stared at the wall. She felt Willow's body curl up to her back, holding her. For a long time, she stared at the shadows dancing on the walls.

*****

Wesley's cock bumped the back of Spike's throat, fucking his mouth. Hands pulled hard on Spike's short and already abused hair, keeping his mouth just so. "Fuck," Wesley cried, determined with his energy and speed.

Digging his nails into Wesley's thighs, Spike enjoyed knowing that he caused every groan and growl out of Wesley's throat. Wesley demanded everything Spike could give and more, and he obliged. Somehow, their relationship had grown into something akin to companionship, but not deserving of the word. Something that Spike had missed since Angelus and then Drusilla left.

Growling, Wesley shifted into game face and came in Spike's mouth. He stayed until his body was silent. Then he collapsed on the bed.

"We should do that more often." Spike grinned as he looked at the clock; his math skills unequipped to calculate just how many hours they'd been fucking.

Spike waited for the moment when he knew that Wesley was asleep. Slinking from bed, he dressed and walked downstairs. Everything rang with an eerie silence. Spike shrugged, glad that the early evening lent to sleeping in. Roger slept on the floor, passed out, and Angel huddled in his corner, awake and staring at Spike.

Shaking Roger to consciousness, Spike lifted him to his feet. For the first times since Roger had been captive, Spike smelled true fear from the man. It seemed that he'd been able to anticipate every move Wesley made. "I told Wesley that fathers and the past were bollocks. So it's time for someone to put an end to this." Spike frowned. "But don't go thinking that I'm giving you a free pass. This is for him."

"You seem to be something of a hypocrite in the area of fathers." Roger looked pointedly over at Angel. A logical Watcher to his last breath.

"Should really mind your own business. Besides, I'm going to kill you anyway." Stepping behind Roger, Spike reached around his head, applying the right amount of pressure, and snapped his neck. Too easy. He never understood why it was Angelus' favorite killing position. For someone who prided himself on the poetry of his killing, snapping a man's neck was simple and easy. Picking up Roger's dead weight, he carried it into the alley and unceremoniously dumped him.

He ran the shower when he climbed up to the bedroom. To wash the stink of Roger Wyndam-Pryce from his body. Hot water poured on his back, filling the room with steam. He couldn't see through it, and he knew he'd be punished for his actions. But in the immediate future, they needed to concentrate on the Slayer, not fathers.

Soap in his hand, Spike trailed it down his body, rubbing circles on his chest and stomach and admiring the clean, unmarked flesh. Over 100 years of his body never changing. It still seemed odd. Especially since no one but Drusilla and Angel knew his actual past. He wished that it'd been him - not some random plague that no one remembered - who killed his father. Rinsing his hair, he wished that Drusilla had turned him earlier, when he still had the chance.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and dried himself with a towel. He picked up a bottle of Jack Daniel's and downed it as fast as he could. The faster it altered the landscape the better. Wesley would know that something was up if he wasn't in bed. Not like Wesley wouldn't know when he found Roger missing. Slipping into bed, he curled up next to Wesley and passed out.

A whip lashed across Spike's back. Rolling over, he sat up and growled as Wesley threw the whip against the lamp, yellow eyes glaring back at his. "What gives you the right." Wesley's hand clasped Spike's throat, throttling him. "What did you think I'd do, Spike."

Spike snorted. "I don't know." His cheek stung when Wesley's hand made contact with his face. He felt far to sober to have drank as much as he did. "Take care of you, Wesley."

"Last time I checked, Spike, I can take care of myself." Wesley threw Spike down on the bed. He picked up a knife from the nightstand and climbed on top of Spike. "And if case you've forgotten, I'm in charge here."

Spike yelped when he felt the cold tip of the knife enter his upper arm. "Fuck," he growled in pain. His instincts roared at him, telling him to fight back - to reach his hand up and push Wesley away.

"Did you forget, Spike?" Wesley asked his voice calm and cool. He twisted the knife, eliciting another scream from Spike.

Spike shook his head earnestly and grabbed his arm when Wesley removed the knife. Blood seeped through his fingers; the wound would heal soon enough, and Wesley knew that.

Scowling, Wesley ran the blade down the side of Spike's face. "Why aren't you fighting back?"

"Don't need to. Don't want to." Spike flinched as the blade shallowly cut into his face. "Deserve what you decide to do."

Angrily tossing the blade aside again, Wesley grabbed Spike by the shoulders, pulling him forward and then slamming him against the wall. The force caused the wall to crack, and Spike to cry out. Once again, he pulled Spike forward, only this time he pushed him toward the stairwell.

Spike tripped down the first few steps. He practically ran down the stairs to keep ahead of Wesley, who kept shoving him.

When they reached the bottom, Wesley yanked on Spike's hair and led him over to Angel's cage. "I think this will suffice." Undoing the lock and opening the door, he shoved Spike inside.

Ramming his body against the door, Spike tried to open it as Wesley messed with the lock again. "You can't just leave me in here." His head pounded like he had a hangover, and perhaps, he did.

"You'll stay there." Wesley stormed toward the common room.

Angel laughed. "You never do learn, Spike." He watched as Spike attempted to bust the lock.

Wesley had failed to chain Spike like they had Angel; and Spike was damned if he was going to stay locked up like some animal. "Will you bloody shut up."

"Do you love him? You always did love those who hurt you. Always so chivalrous." Angel leaned his head against the cool brick. He could hear Wesley wrecking havoc and killing their minions in the other room. "Is this what you thought would happen when you sired him? Why did you sire him anyway?"

"Choice time to start spouting cheap psychology." Spike rattled the bars and kicked them, only making his foot throb from the solid vibration he received.

"Your plans always fuck up. That's what siring Wes was, a fuck up. And one you're currently regretting."

"I told you to shut the fuck up." Spike moved across the cage and grabbed Angel, slamming his head again and again into the wall.

All Angel could do was laugh.

*****

Tara closed her eyes as Willow ran a brush through her hair. Her movements were soft and comforting. She hadn't been able to sleep once again. Dreams and nightmares of Spike and Wesley again. And always that laugh from Angel. She shivered.

"Are you okay, baby?" Willow stopped brushing.

Frowning, Tara sighed. That was about the tenth time Willow had inquired about her state of being in the last hour. "Just a chill. That's all."

Willow picked up a blanket and wrapped it around her lover. "So tell me what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

While Tara knew that Willow was concerned for her, she needed space and time to think. She shrugged off the blanket. "Class. Therapy. Scooby meeting." She tried not to jump when Miss Kitty Fantastico hopped on the bed.

"Look who wants attention." Willow picked up the cat and cradled her in her arms. "Aren't you just the sweetest?" The cat meowed and flopped out of Willow's arm, crawling on Tara's lap.

Tara picked up her hand and stroked Miss Kitty's fur as the cat began to purr.

"I think I'll make some tea." Willow moved off the bed. "Would you like some?"

Looking up, Tara shook her head. "No, thank you." She turned her attention back to the cat.

Placing a kettle on the stove, Willow wrinkled her nose when she heard a knock on the door. "Buffy." She smiled as she opened it.

"Don't you think it's too quiet?" Buffy burst in. She walked to about the middle of the room, then faced Willow. "I mean, ever since those garbagemen found Roger's body, we haven't heard a peep from Wesley or Spike or Glory for that matter. Since when do hell gods drop off the planet?"

"Don't forget Ben." Willow picked up the kettle which was whistling.

"But neck snapping…" Buffy tapped her foot. "I mean, it doesn't have drama. After all that weird crap we found in Ben's place, who knows what he was doing. So glad that didn't go anywhere. Not that wearing women's clothing isn't a valid life choice, just not one for potential Buffy boyfriends. Though he did have good taste in shoes…"

Tara cleared her throat. "Why aren't you asking Giles?" She felt tired and wished that Buffy would leave. Buffy was perhaps the only person who thought about shoes while possibly facing a huge battle. Of course, she did have super powers.

"Figured he'd be asleep. Besides, last time I mentioned that things were quiet, he just thought the Hellmouth calmed down." Buffy turned back to Willow.

"I thought that was what you thought." Willow frowned and offered her best friend a cup of tea. "Maybe we should have a stakeout."

"I was thinking of maybe capturing one of their minions and asking him what was going on. Especially since Glory's minions decided to kill themselves. Too bad because they were far easier to catch." Buffy sat down at the table across from Willow.

"And less with the bitey." Willow stirred sugar into her tea.

Tara pulled the blankets on the bed around her and Miss Kitty. She listened as the other women talked and planned. Holding her breath, she didn't offer her input; she'd seen the rage and sorrow both in the victims and the jailers. There was no predicting what Wesley would do next besides come after the Scoobies.

Leaning back against the pillows, Tara let the lull of Willow and Buffy's voice calm her into sleep.

*****

"Well, hello, Tara." Giles looked up from the research he was conducting as Anya helped a customer behind the register at the Magic Box.

"Is…is Willow here?" Tara held her book bag tightly to her chest.

"Afraid you just missed them. She and Buffy muttered something about going shopping."

"Oh. I…I didn't really want to be alone in the dorms." Tara sidestepped as the satisfied customer walked passed her and toward the door. "But I can see that you're busy. And I wouldn't want to intrude."

"If you would like to stay, you can always help me with the inventory." Anya smiled.

Giles placed his glasses back on. "She's been trying to pawn off her responsibilities all day."

"Because you're such a help. Sitting there all day researching." Anya placed her hand on her hips and frowned at him.

"Perhaps it's because I'm trying to figure out just what happened to an insane hell god."

"Ummm…is Cordelia at your house, Giles?" Tara cleared her throat, catching both of their attentions.

Giles nodded and looked up at her. "Oh, yes, Tara. She should be there."

The short walk to Giles' apartment cleared her head. The sun was warm and soft across her skin, protecting her from things that lurked in the shadows. She walked with enough distance away from buildings so no one could drag her in. The nightmares were bad enough, and she counted on the sun to chase them away.

"Cordelia." Tara opened the front door with the key Giles had given her. "It's Tara." She felt sorry for Cordelia, still having to sleep on Giles' couch. Anya gave Xander evil looks every time he mentioned that she might live in their spare room. She'd heard Anya cite that their rent would rise, but the jealousy was apparent in her eyes.

"Tara." Cordelia smiled; she'd learned all their voices by now. Standing in the kitchen, she messed with the microwave. Hitting the start button, she cursed when it didn't turn on. "Sometimes I miss having a ghost; I mean he had eyes and could make this dumb thing work."

Sitting down on the couch, Tara waited for Cordelia to finish fighting with the appliance. She didn't offer or go to the microwave and do it herself.

"Finally." Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief when it finally turned on. "As much as I like Hot Pockets, Giles really needs to expand his frozen food selection. Or at least eat something with less grease. He's not getting any younger."

Tara giggled for the first time in a long while. "Just don't ask Buffy. Apparently once she made Thanksgiving dinner and freaked out when Willow…" She quieted at her lover's name.

"I bet Buffy's a real freak in the kitchen." Cordelia slipped passed the silence - something she'd long ago learned to do. "So how's the world of Tara?"

"Pretty much the same old story - class and Willow." Tara started to speak again, but was cut off by the beeping of the microwave signaling that Cordelia's food was ready.

"Know how you feel. I mean, I can be handi-capable." Cordelia grimaced as the food burnt the tips of her fingers as she took off its paper wrapping. "At least Angel would've found something for me to do." She seated herself on the couch next to Tara. "But the Sunnydale gang treats me with kiddie gloves."

Tara nodded. "They care..."

"Too much." Biting into her Hot Pocket, Cordelia's nose wrinkled. "At least when I used to get visions, I sent the boys out and suffered by myself or maybe with just Dennis. But here, I have at least three people bringing me aspirin, water, and asking me how I'm doing every five seconds."

Tara's fingers played with the loose fabric on Giles' well-worn couch. "Willow...she does the same thing. Last night, she and Buffy..."

Cordelia's body jolted forward as she clutched her head. The plate on her lap went crashing to the floor, breaking into pieces. "Zombies. Buffy and Willow. Lynnman's shoe store. Mall. At the mall. Call Giles." She sank into the couch, tears streaming down her face.

Running to the phone, Tara dialed the Magic Box. Fortunately, Giles picked up instead of Anya.

*****

Giles watched as Buffy's sword sliced off a zombie's head. Thankfully, he and Xander had arrived with Buffy's weapons before things grew too out of control. Willow's magic had held them back longer enough to evacuate the civilians. "Xander, behind you."

Xander's axe hacked off a zombie's arm before going for its head. "Now stay dead."

Shaking his head, Giles swung his own sword toward one of the demons. He took mental note of the marking on its forehead. It had to mean something, and they needed to find whoever animated them. Probably some connecting to Spike and Wesley considering how they'd warded off their church. Had to be a powerful mage.

Buffy ran her sword through the last of the zombies. "That's right. No one wants to hire dead rotting corpses at the food court."

Giles coughed. Even Buffy's quips weren't as sparky as they once were. "You did say that you thought things were too quiet."

"Seems like the Powers That Be had my back." Buffy grimaced as Xander found a wheelbarrow in a supply closet and started loading zombie body parts into it.

Xander tossed a zombie head in it. "Don't know about that Buff, from some of the things Cordy's told me, they seem to be the Powers That Fuck You Over. I, for one, would rather rely on Giles' research and your brawn."

Giles collected the weapons and carried them out to the van. He truly hated the thing despite its usefulness. At least, he still drove his car to work. But now wasn't the time to worry about vehicles. It wasn't like he had anyone to impress.

He helped the others bury the zombies, standing idly as Willow cast a spell instead of letting them dig a hole. But it wasn't as if he was her father; she could learn how to control her magic on her own.

When they arrived back at his place, he smiled to see Tara and Cordelia chatting in the living room. He'd been worried about Cordelia's reintegration into the Sunnydale gang, but she and Tara seemed to hit it off. "How are you feeling, Cordelia?"

"Don't worry, Giles. The asprin's kicked in." Cordelia turned toward the door. "Kill some zombies?"

"Your basic slice and dice. Would've brought you a souvenir, but they were kind of rotting." Xander rubbed his hand together and walked to Giles' bathroom to clean up. After he was done, they all took turns abusing the hot water and soap.

"Going to open it, Wil?" Buffy asked. She perched on Giles' kitchen stool, munching on crackers.

"Open what?" Tara placed her hand on Willow's knee.

Willow took an envelope out of her purse. "Remember how I applied for the fellowship in Tibet? I mean, it was when school had started, and I thought that I wanted to study abroad. Well, the letter came today." Her hand slightly shook, causing the paper to rattle.

Giles watched as a look of apprehension crossed everyone's face. "You might as well go ahead and open it. Putting it off will only increase your nervousness."

"Giles is right, Wil." Buffy smiled as her best friend opened the envelope and read the letter. "So what they say?"

"I got in."

"That's wonderful, sweetie." Tara hugged Willow and kissed her.

Giles smiled. "What a great opportunity. When I was an undergraduate, I studied in Kenya for a year. It was an amazing experience."

"But you're going to tell them 'yes,' right?" Buffy walked over and hugged Willow. "I mean, chance of a lifetime."

"I don't know, Buffy. A lot's happened," Willow glance over at Tara, "and I don't know if now's the right time. But I will think about it."

"Don't worry, Wil. We're behind you no matter what you decide." Xander gave her his own hug.

*****

"I think it's time to be let out of your cage, Spike." Wesley fiddled with the lock. "I think you've had enough time to think about what you've done."

Spike looked up from the ground. Wesley had refused to feed him for the past month, forcing him to feed from Angel if he wanted anything. But his sire's blood tasted of soul - of good and puppies and Christmas. "Hate you," he muttered as Wesley picked him up. He didn't have any injuries because Wesley had left him, left him alone with Angel. Wesley even had minions feed Angel.

"Goldilocks wasn't happy with his porridge." Angel's hand tapped on the bar on the far side of the cage, ignored by all.

"You could've eaten if you wanted to. Besides, a vampire can survive indefinitely without blood. And you were in no danger of going hungry."

Spike gazed up at Wesley in a daze. Surprised at how gentle he was. "Would you have eaten from him?"

"Had it meant my survival, yes." Wesley slammed the door shut and locked it. He carried Spike up to his room.

A young woman was tied to a chair, a cotton gag in her mouth and nasty head wound. Her stringy blonde hair encapsulated her face, and she almost looked like a child in a sundress and bare feet. Spike found himself in the chair next to her. Changing into game face, he pulled her unconscious body onto his lap and drank. Her blood tasted sweeter than a noble virgin's, and he felt filled with strength as her life forced drained.

Wesley pulled her body toward the door, calling on some minion to dispose of it. "You smell."

"So eloquent." Still weak, though he could've hobbled, Spike was carried into the bathroom. He groaned when the hot water filling the bathtub first hit his toes. The water stung his skin, and he didn't recall Wesley taking off his clothing even if he was now naked.

Picking up a washcloth, Wesley roughly scrubbed Spike's body. Soon the bathwater turned a dingy color. "Amazing how much dirt you picked up during confinement."

"Would hate to have to wash Angel myself." Spike watched the water drain down the tub and shivered as a towel was wrapped around him.

Wesley shook his head. "For being so old and soulless, you really are too human."

"Isn't this too human?" Spike asked as his arms laced around Wesley's neck, being lifted from the tub.

Ignoring Spike's question, Wesley brought him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed, against the pillows. He walked over to the closet in search of something for Spike to wear.

"Why?" Spike found his eyes were closing and in need of sleep. With a smirk, he opened them as Wesley joined him on the bed and started dressing him in pajama bottoms. "You were lonely. Spent all those years alone as a human, and you don't want to spent eternity by yourself."

"Shut up, Spike. Unless you'd like to join your pet again." Wesley yanked back the covers on their bed before he stripped himself. The sun was nearly up, and he checked the thick curtains as a human would check a door lock.

When Wesley rejoined him, Spike placed his hand on the other vampire's cheek. "I know where you live, love. You can't hide. Don't have to."

Wesley grabbed Spike's wrist, squeezing until Spike started to move away. "You don't know anything about me. No wonder you never killed the Slayer or her little friends. No wonder you were Angelus' boy, just as you are mine. You're weak, Spike." Letting go, he rolled over and turned off the light.

"Is it true?" Spike held his wrist to his chest protectively.

"Is what true, Spike."

Spike's fingers massaged the broken bones that had already begun to heal. "That you've hired a mage to take away his soul."

"A vampire shouldn't have one. It's unnatural." Wesley sighed. "But I've hired a mage for many other things, including one failed zombie attack. Apparently, he thinks tricks out of Stephen King novels work. Now Spike, will you be quiet or must I gag you?"

Spike closed his eyes and pretended to have fallen asleep.

*****

"If you want to go, I'll be fine." Tara held Willow's hand as they walked toward the Magic Box.

"Baby, I can't leave you." They stopped before the door. Willow's free hand reached up and touched her lover's face. "Not with everything that's happened."

Tara shook her head. "I…I don't need you to coddle me." There, she'd said it. Said what had been going through her minds since her release. The physical trauma from her time in captivity had almost faded, and none were visible when she was fully dressed.

Willow's face shrank into a frown. "I'm not. I just want to help."

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Hey, how's my two favorite witches," Xander greeted them. He held the door open for them.

"We're fine, Xan," Willow answered for the both of them, ushering Tara into the safety of the Magic Box. "Do you know anything about the big scoop?"

"Nada, nothing." Xander kissed Anya who had walked up to him. "If it isn't the love of my life even when she tells me all about eviscerating men."

"It's only shop talk, Xander." Anya forced a smile on her face, nodding at both Tara and Willow, she continued her argument with Xander, "If you were at one point a woman or attached to men, you would understand. A poor girl came into the shop today crying over some bastard who'd cheated on her, and while I wished I could've done more, I did show her which powders were sure to give him warts."

Tara left Willow, Xander, and Anya and moved to the research table. She sat quietly waiting for the Scooby meeting to begin and wondered why they even bothered to invite her anymore. Sure she could do a little magic, but Willow was the one with the mega power.

Giles auspiciously cleared his throat, and everyone gathered around the table. "As we all know, since the zombies, there's been increased demon activity of the magical variety. Both Willow and I have sensed a strong, dark presence in the area and believe that Wesley and Spike may have hired a mage to use against Buffy."

"So how to we make the mage go boom?" Xander asked. He laid his hand on Anya's shoulder.

"First, we have to identify it." Willow produced a map from her book bag. "This is a layout of their lair that I obtained from old city planning records we stole from The Mayor." She looked up as Buffy appeared at the table, carrying a pile of stakes.

"We're going to go in when it's light, that way we have an easy escape route." Buffy dumped the stakes onto the table. "We're going to identify the mage and get out. Only kill minions if you have to. And no, I'm not going after Angel if he's still alive."

Tara watched as they planned on how to spy on Wesley and Spike. Apparently, there were four main entrances and Xander, Anya, Buffy, and Willow were going to take them. Giles was to drive, and she was once again to Cordelia-sit. To make sure that she didn't have any pressing visions as the rest went off to fight.

"And what do I get to do?" Dawn poked her head into the circle. Tara hadn't even noticed the girl before. She must have been watching Buffy make stakes.

Buffy frowned at her little sister. "You get to stay with Tara and Cordelia until mom's done with work."

Tara placed her hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Don't worry, Dawnie. We can watch some tv and raid Mr. Giles supply of ice cream."

*****

"I don't understand why Buffy can wear ill-fitting shoes," Anya protested. Her arms were crossed against her chest as she glared at Xander.

"Because Buffy's the Slayer, and we're the sidekicks." Xander sighed as he handed Anya a stake to place in her pocket. "If we fall down in our high heels, we get eaten. If Buffy does, she kicks the demon in the face as she regains her balance."

Anya frowned. "I still hate these sneakers." She held on tightly to her sword, not caring that currently it pointed at a funny angle and could possibly snag her clothing.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay with that thing?" Xander asked before they parted ways to spy on Wesley and Spike.

"Yes, Xander," she snapped. "Giles hasn't been training us to use these things for nothing." The sword had become familiar in her hand ever since they'd decided to start learning how to properly use weapons after Tara's abduction.

He sighed again. "I ask because I care." Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on Anya's cheek. "I just want my Anya to come back in one piece."

"I know. Sometimes, it's just frustrating." Anya lifted up her sword, causing a smile to cross her face. "But I can really see what Buffy meant about the horny part of fighting."

"See you on the other side."

She watched as Xander walked toward the east entrance as she headed for the north one. With her sword gripped tightly in her hands, she looked around for demon guards. It seemed that daytime did indeed mean naptime. "At least some demons are getting their traditions right," she muttered.

Slowly, Anya pushed open the door and peaked around it. Luck was with her as the coast was clear. Not that she couldn't have made a pretty good mess with the sword. She seemed to be in a room that once served as a kitchen or some sort, and with the various rotting bodies parts that laid around, it was likely that it was still used.

Hearing voices in coming through a door, she quickly entered what looked to be a pantry and crouched down. She hoped that no one smelled or hear her heart beat.

"Would you like to explain to me why you chose zombies? I'm paying you good money."

"They were top of the line. They don't come any better than that. Even the witch couldn't break their spell, just as she can't break my wards. Which I haven't heard you complaining about."

"That's because they worked, and I expect things to work. Your amateur spell could cost us a lot if Buffy finds out."

"I wouldn't brush me aside like that."

"Are you threatening me? Because there's really not a lot you could do."

"And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Just because you're technically dead doesn't mean that you can't be influenced by magics."

Anya lifted her head to see Wesley and the mage. The mage's longish gray hair looked like it hadn't been washed in a few days, and he was clearly aging. Possibly well into his mid-50s. She smiled, then ducked back down.

"How about you prove yourself, Cody? Think of it as your honor."

"And how would you suggest I do that?"

"Spike had a brilliant idea last night, so why don't we ask him."

Anya heard the door swing open and once again peered out at the kitchen. Wesley and Cody had left. She bolted for the door, not caring how much noise it made as she scampered out into the sunlight and to Giles' car. "I got it," she announced, slamming the passenger's door shut.

"You saw the mage?" Giles asked. He turned from his position in the driver's seat.

"Yep." She nodded her head. "His name is Cody." She went on to give a complete description of the mage, and what he and Wesley had talked about. "So is that enough?"

"Yes." Giles looked pale.

"Giles? Are you okay?" Anya placed her hand on his knee.

Giles shook his head. "I once knew a Watcher who went by that name. Went to the academy with him, until he was expelled for messing with the black arts. He was powerful, and if this is the same man, no doubt, he's grown."

"You shouldn't worry, Giles, we have two powerful witches and a Slayer. Odds look like something I would place my hard earned cash on." Anya turned her head and removed her hand from Giles' knee when she heard the door to the van open.

Xander, Willow, and Buffy all piled in. "Recognizance, smecognizance." Xander frowned.

"Nothing but a bunch of vamps and a few demons. Everyone looked pretty un-special." Buffy sat back in her seat.

Anya smiled, happy at her find, and that she could contribute to their fight against Wesley and Spike. "I saw him. The mage's name is Cody, and Wesley didn't sound very happy about his performance with the zombies at the mall. According to Giles, he might be a former Watcher, turned evil mage. Frankly, I've seen these types before, and they're wild cards." When she looked over to Giles, she thought he looked hurt. "I didn't mean you, Giles. You're on our side, and not all with the bad magic, at least anymore. Or that's what Xander tells me."

"Anya." Xander brushed his hair away from his forehead and looked out the window.

"We're not going to wait around for Spike and Wesley's next strike. We need to take out this mage and them," Buffy spoke up. "We'll hit them hard and fast. Willow's been working on that sunshine ball, which should vanquish the majority of the help."

"Yes, we should rush in and be painfully killed." Anya felt uncomfortable about Buffy's plan or lack of it. Willow's spells were more than unpredictable, especially after Tara's capture and release. "It's not like Willow's spells are always reliable."

"Hey," Willow protested, "my spells work. And Tara and I have put a lot of energy into perfecting this one. Plus, we do have Buffy."

"We're going to put an end to this. The Council might have gotten themselves slaughtered, but they aren't us." Buffy crossed her arms as Giles arrived at his home.

Anya rolled her eyes as they entered Giles' home. She picked up the phone and ordered pizza, because Giles never had anything good to eat. Last time, she rooted through his cupboards all she could find was strange smelling British teas. The man should at least have Jaffa Cakes for the worn-out Slayer and her friends.

Buffy continued to talk and plan about their attack on Wesley and Spike. But Anya ignored her, and instead thought about how old Buffy was starting look. How the wrinkles under her eyes were just a little more pronounced than they were yesterday. Of course, they were all getting that way.

Then Anya remembered what Giles did have. Giles always had alcohol, and someone, namely her, needed to be celebrating her successful undercover mission. And at this point, no one seemed to notice her opening the liquor cabinet and pouring herself a glass.

****

Tara watched as Buffy circled the room again. She sat on the Summers' couch, gossiping with Cordelia. "Hey, Dawnie." Tara smiled as the girl sat down with them.

"Hey." Dawn grinned, big and toothy. And she watched Xander for a moment before turning back to Tara.

"How's school?" Tara inquired. She was surprised that Buffy hadn't yelled at Dawn to leave the room yet.

Dawn shifted on the couch. "It's cool. There's this boy, Robby, and I think he likes me."

"At least you're not going to Sunnydale High," Cordelia snorted. "Thank god, Giles blew up the place. Otherwise, you'd be worrying about being eaten by fish people instead of boys."

"I seem to remember a lot of fixation on boys despite vampires and big demon snakes." Willow handed Tara a glass of water, and leaning over, kissed her cheek. "Buffy's got the movies, and we're just going to have a fun time. A quiet night at the Summers' residence. No demons or evil mages."

"And I got the first movie, The Breakfast Club. Auspicious fun in high school detention." Xander placed the movie in the DVD player and moved to sit down in front of the couch, snuggling next to Anya.

Cordelia snorted and took the soda that Buffy handed her. "Plus I've seen it enough times that Xander doesn't have to feel sorry for the blind girl."

Sticking her hand into the popcorn bowl, Tara took a handful at sat back between Dawn and Cordelia. "I thought Mr. Giles was going to be joining us."

"Nope. Giles wanted some adult alone time. Probably with his books or something." Buffy picked up the remote and turned on the television.

"Or his alcohol," Anya muttered, leaning on Xander's shoulder. "This is one with Molly Ringwald, correct?"

Tara nodded as they all fell silent when the opening credits began to play. Halfway through the movie, both Willow and Buffy moved and went into the kitchen to refill their popcorn. Dawn moved to the floor, and Tara started French braiding her hair. By the purse searching scene, Tara noticed that Willow and Buffy hadn't returned; sliding out of the couch, she walked toward the kitchen.

"So have you decided on the whole Seven Years in Tibet fellowship?" Buffy asked. She tossed a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

Willow frowned. "It's kind of 50/50 right now. I want to go, but... There's Tara. I don't want to hurt her anymore than she already is. She was quiet before, but lately, it's just been eerie."

Tara stayed just behind the doorway, holding her breath and listening to their conversation. She knew that she'd been a burden on Willow, but she didn't want to keep her lover from her life.

"So, you're staying for Tara?"

"It's not just Tara. It's also you and Xander and Dawnie." Willow took a sip of her soda. Sitting the can on the counter, she began to spin it around.

"But you shouldn't. I know how big this is. I saw the look on Giles' face. It was similar to the one Anya gets when we land on Boardwalk and have to pay her a stack of orange paper money." Smiling, Buffy placed her hand on Willow's. "This is a big deal."

Tara took the moment of silence between the women to enter the kitchen. "Hey." She tucked a stray chunk of hair behind her ear.

"You okay, sweetie." Willow moved to Tara's side, wrapping her arm around her lover and pulling her closer. She placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just wondering what happened to the popcorn." Tara smiled at them.

Buffy picked up the bowl and handed it to Tara. "Just me hogging it."

*****

Spike woke to a clatter downstairs and looked up as a vampire ran up into his bedroom.

"It's the Slayer. She's got the witches too. Wesley said to come and get you."

"You, go back downstairs and kill them." Leaping from bed, Spike tossed on his clothing. He'd mostly healed from his punishment, and Wesley had been oddly forgiving and gentle. Shaking his head, he finished lacing his boots and headed downstairs.

The main entrance to the church burned bright with flames. Long and thick red curtains were fully consumed with the fire. He heard chanting outside and saw Xander battling some idiot vampire. Spike remained out of Xander's line of view until the boy had staked the vampire. Running up behind Xander, Spike vamped and lunged at him.

With a grunt, Xander elbowed Spike and manage to turn around. His fist made contact with Spike's face as he repositioned his stake, aiming it at Spike's heart.

"Don't think so," Spike snorted. His face stung a little from the blow, but not enough to throw him off. He smelt blood coursing through the human. "Might drink from you before I snap your neck."

"Don't think that's happening." Xander jumped away, dodging Spike's returning punch. Reaching his hand up, his fingers wrapped tightly around the stake. He pushed it forward through the arm.

Moving his arm, Spike smashed knocked the weapon from Xander's hand. It clattered as it hit the floor. "Vamp always has his weapon." Taking a step forward, Spike grabbed Xander by the shoulders, ripping the boy's thin blue t-shirt. His mouth plunged toward Xander's jugular. Once he drew blood from the boy, Xander wouldn't have a chance.

Spike grunted and fell forwards when an axe hit him square in the back. Whipping around to face his attacker, he snarled.

"I prefer my boyfriend alive. Thank you very much." Anya pulled the axe to her and took another swing. This time aiming lower at Spike's legs as Xander moved away.

Jumping over the axe, Spike made his way to the wall where he heard Wesley shouted at him. A group of newbie vampires ran out with hoses and to finish off Xander and Anya. Keeping his head turned, he moved toward Wesley. "Having fun, love?"

Wesley growled at Spike and tugged on his sleeve. "Cody's occupying the Slayer and the witches outside. Let's hope he runs them down." Snapping his fingers, he ordered another vampire to keep an eye on the battle. "Buffy's becoming antsy."

"Bloody impatient," Spike agreed. "Whatever happened to the tradition where the demons go after the white hats."

*****

Gazing at Willow, Tara took her lover's hand. She smiled and started to chant. "Let the barrier against magics come down. Let the veil show. Let the barrier come down." Her head tilted up; tendrils of magic flowed through her to Willow. They coated the building in warm shades of gold and pink.

For the last two weeks, she and Willow had been experimenting with new spells. Keeping a strange silence, Giles had handed over anything they needed from the Magic Box's inventory, despite Anya's fussing. He gave them little information of the encounters he'd had with Cody. Encounters that by the tone in Giles' voice, he didn't want to rehash.

"Bring it down," Willow shouted. She held her hand out. The outline of the barrier warped and bent under the pressure of the two witches.

A loud crackle echoed in the air, and Tara brought her hands up her ears. Sparks flew toward them from the building as the barrier imploded. She let out a sigh of relief, gazing at Willow.

"Let's go find the mage and Buffy." Willow waved her to the building. They entered a room full of tables still covered in white linens with coffee mugs stored in the corner.

"Now girls," Cody appeared before them, "I can see you're adept at parlor tricks. I wonder what's going to happen when you face real magics." He twirled a cane in his hand. "Which one of you won't be able to stop." Lifting his cane, he pointed it at Tara, energy streaming from it. " Deliquesco."

"Barrier." Tara closed her eyes and winced, hoping that her magic would hold up. She felt Willow's going to protect her. When she opened her eyes, everything looked the same.

Willow looked around the room, her head turning from side to side, and she spun around. "Tara? Tara, where are you? Baby?"

"I'm right here." Frowning, Tara moved to touch Willow's arm. But her lover still didn't respond as the mage started laughing. Her hand went through Willow's arm.

Buffy ran into the room with her sword held high. Her face was smeared with vampire dust. "Am I late?" With a swing, she beheaded the vampire who had followed her into dinning area. "Where's Tara?"

"I don't know." Willow glared at Cody. "That's your mage. He cast some spell, and she disappeared." In a low voice, she began to chant, her magic glowing around her. Floating a stake out of her pocket, she sent it on a direct course toward Cody's heart.

With a nod of his head, Cody deflected it. "Can't do anything without her, can you? You never learned how to be on your own. Not even the Slayer stands by herself as she should."

Bringing her sword up, Buffy brought it down toward Cody's head. "What can I say, I don't like tradition." A tendril of magic wrapped itself around the sword, flinging it out of Buffy's hands and to the floor. "Fuck."

"And what do you plan on doing little girl? Slayers don't kill humans." Cody pointed the cane, aiming it at Willow.

Tara began to mutter to herself; almost every spell that she knew, she called on, anything that had to do with invisibility and transparency. She couldn't sit still and let Willow and Buffy take Cody on by themselves.

Grasping a metal folding chair, Buffy again attempted to hit Cody, catching him off guard enough to make contact. The mage faltered back, crumpling on the floor.

"Buffy, his cane," Willow shouted. She continued to glow.

Feeling the air tingle with magic, Tara looked back at Willow and noticed that her eyes had gone black. She shivered as her hand made contact with a table. Whatever Cody had done to her was fading.

Picking up the cane, Buffy snapped the stick in half over her knee. She cried out and dropped the pieces as the smell of burnt flesh filled the room. Clutching her hand, she held it close to her chest.

Taking out a crystal, Willow held it out in her hand. She started conjuring the spell that they'd planned earlier.

Tara hoped that the mage was injured enough, and she began to chant along with her lover. Apparently the spell didn't prevent her from using her own magic. She watched as Willow's eyes turned back to their normal softer color.

"Baby." Willow smiled as Tara's form reappeared.

The mage withered on the floor under the witches' magics as the crystal absorbed his strength. With a howl, his body turned into black flecks in a funnel formation, swirling and entering the crystal in Willow's hand.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead, Buffy smiled. "Bye, bye mage." She picked her sword from the floor. "Glad to see you, Tara."

"Me too." Tara hugged Willow who had run over to her after tucking the crystal into her pocket. She grimaced at the tightness of the hug, slight claustrophobia coming over her. "I'm okay, sweetie."

"I was so worried again." Loosening her arms, Willow let go and looked up as Xander burst in the room.

"We took care of a lot of them." Xander grimaced. A red gash decorated his forehead.

Anya trailed behind him, sword by her side. "Xander's injured. We must get him to a hospital. He won't let me look at it."

"I think we're done for the moment." Buffy turned toward the door where a new flood of vampires filled the room. "We've done what we came here to do. Retreat."

As they rushed out into the sunlight, Tara couldn't help but noticed that Buffy still protectively kept her burnt hand near her body. The knots in her stomach eased at familiarity of Giles waiting for them with the van. And for the first time in months, she smiled.

*****

Angel's screams echoed through the broken building. The screams he'd held back for months, and the ones that allowed for a smug smile to cross Spike's face.

Licking the blood of his sire's neck, Spike laughed, digging the knife deeper into his shoulder. "You know, I used to never understand your fondness for torture. But I've grown accustomed to our sessions. Guess Wesley has shown me a few things that you couldn't."

Angel panted as Spike pushed him to the ground. "You'll never have any finesse, Spike. You don't love this. You do it because it pleases Wes."

"Wes is dead."

Spike looked up at Wesley who stood at the doorway. Blinking, he smiled at the leather trousers Wesley wore. "Night out on the town, pet?"

"I think so." Wesley stepped over the broken boards that were scattered on the floor. "Something to get away from all this noise." The banging of hammers had filled most of the day and early evening as the church was slowly rebuilt.

"Don't understand why we just don't move." Spike chained Angel's hands together and threw him back into his cage. He slammed the cold steel of the door shut and secured the lock. "Cause the Slayer and her friends pretty much beat down our front door."

Wesley smiled, which seemed to Spike to almost more frightening than another expression he'd seen. "Then we'd be giving into what they wanted: to chase us out. You really have much to learn."

"You always say that, love," Spike tilted his head, "but last time I checked, I've lived a few more centuries than you." He picked his duster off a chair and quickly put it on. "And where do you plan to feast tonight?"

Wesley's face went back to his tightly drawn neutral expression. "I seem to remember a club called the Bronze. Should be something appetizing there."

"And if the Slayer and her sidekicks call us on it?" Spike followed Wesley toward the backdoor.

"Let them." Wesley took them to the Bronze, which in recent months became notorious for demon parties. Not like Willie's whose proprietor fed information to the Slayer and annoying demons that made Spike long for a bit of violence. Unfortunately, Wesley insisted on making alliances with the powerful demons and only allowed him to slice and dice a few.

Spike pulled Wesley toward the dance floor. Industrial music filled the club; played by some fool wanting to attract vamp wannabes. Last time they were here, Wesley had refused to dance but tonight things seemed to be different.

Of course, dancing was more like fucking than anything else. Spike liked to think that once Wesley learned that, the dance floor became one more way to get off. He brushed his hips against Wesley's. "You do know what I like, pet."

"That's because you're predictable when it comes to pleasure, Spike." Wesley closed his eyes as they fell into the rhythm together.

Biting his lips, Spike tried to pass off Wesley's comments as macho and adjusting for the softness he'd shown tonight. But part of him wanted to shove Wesley up against the wall and fuck him, good and hard. Like their first time should've gone. The only thing worse than a demanding Wesley was Angelus. Or maybe Wesley hit the tip of an unpredictable organized crazy.

Wesley's hand reached down and cupped Spike's arse, causing Spike to tense. "Is there something wrong?" his voice was low and dangerous; gold specks flashed in his eyes.

"Nothing at all." Spike leaned forward and kissed Wesley, hoping that the other vampire wouldn't catch the lie in his eyes. His rubbed his hip against Wesley's erection, and he remembered a time when Sunnydale was a lot more fun.

*****

'X's marked the calendar or at least they did when she looked at it. Tara ran her thumb over the crisp pages. Today was almost the final 'x.' Willow had called earlier, letting her know that she was bringing home dinner. She picked up her art history book and began to read. Miss Kitty jumped up on her lap, and her hand went into automation, petting her.

"Hey." Willow opened the door, carrying takeout cartons. "How do cheeseburgers and fries sound?"

Closing her book, Tara sat it down near her book bag. "Not like our usual." Usual meant something with noodles and peanut sauce, not cafeteria food or anything someone would allow Xander to cook.

"Thought a change might be nice. Plus I had a hankering for salt and fat and American." Willow smiled.

"So they're not French fries?" Tara made her way over to their table, stopping to fill the cat's food. She saw the delight on her lover's face at her joke. A joke as a symbol that made everything okay.

Placing a kiss on Tara's cheek, Willow moved to grab their plates. "I'll check to see if the catsup was made in Canada."

After eating, Miss Kitty crawled up on Tara's lap once again and begged for part of her burger. "No people food for you, missy."

"She does get a little crazy with the special sauce." Willow took a sip of her soda. "I sent in my letter today."

"You're going, right?" Tara looked down at her dinner, concentrating on the loops of her curly fries. "I mean, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Willow nodded. "I… I didn’t want to leave you. My once in a lifetime girl. You've- we've been through so much." She placed her hand across the table.

Taking her lover's hand, Tara looked up. "It's okay. I'll be sad, but it's a great opportunity. I'm happy that you said yes." Tears started to travel down her face. "I hear that Tibet is pretty in the springtime."

Getting up from the table, Willow pulled her skirt out of the way as she pushed her chair back. Her arms wrapped around Tara. "It'll be okay." Willow kissed her forehead.

Tara wanted to disappear in the soft fibers of Willow's purple sweater. Just stay nestled inside the comforting arms of her lover, not to see her off on a plane in a week. This was college, and the odds of them staying together, especially with Willow halfway across the globes, were dismal. But she couldn't let herself be selfish; she had to be happy for Willow.

Letting a smile cross her face, Tara looked up and kissed Willow's lips. "I want to know everything you're planning on seeing and doing while in Tibet." Letting go of Willow, she allowed her lover to move back to her own seat.

"You mean besides stalking the Dalai Lama?" Willow grinned and unwrapped her burger before continuing to tell Tara everything she'd read in the Tibetan tour guides that she hadn't thought Tara noticed poking up from her book bag.

Tara ate with nods and single word questions to Willow's ramblings about the mysteries of Tibet. UC Sunnydale was always a waste of Willow's intelligence, and Tara saw that more now than before. Sure, she had good grades too, but only UCS and her backup school had accepted her, whereas Willow was wooed by no less than three different Ivy League schools. And Tibet would afford Willow the experience that she gave up by remaining in Sunnydale; at least that was what Tara told herself.

"We need to get going, honey," Tara interrupted Willow's babblings. "We don't want to be late for the Scooby meeting." She picked up her and Willow's empty paper plates, tossing them in the trash can.

Willow placed her hand on Tara's and kissed her. "Thank you. You're the best girlfriend a girl could ask for." Her other hand brushed a stray strand of Tara's hair behind her ear.

"You can't wait to tell them, can you?"

"No." Grinning, Willow bunched up her shoulders in excitement. And Tara added repressed resentment and abandonment to the list of things she'd be talking to her therapist about.

*****

"Is she here, yet?" Anya asked impatiently for the seventh time as she walked out of the Summers' bathroom. It wasn't any fun to throw a surprise going away party if the person in question wasn't there.

"Not yet." Xander gave her a meek smile and shook his head. "Oh, look a cookie." He stole one off a plate.

Xander definitely had a nervous eating problem. Well, it was just another thing that she needed to fix. Anya returned his smile, patting him on his shoulder and trying not to watch the cookie crumbs fall onto the floor.

"Buffy said that she'd bring her by after they stopped at the mall," Tara offered.

Dawn also reached for a cookie. "They probably got distracted by a shoe sale. I still don't understand why they wouldn't take me."

"Because you have the perfect lung capacity for blowing up balloons," Anya answered. She'd remembered several of the screaming sessions which occurred after the girl found out that she wasn't quite human. Anya didn't understand what was so wrong about not being human; after all, she herself had been a demon for a very long time.

Cordelia snorted. "As long as Buffy doesn't bring an arm home with her like the last Sunnydale surprise party I attended."

"Spike's never been one for world destruction, and I doubt Wesley would be either." Giles lifted his punch cup to his mouth and took a drink.

Xander wrapped his arm around Anya's waist. "Plus we all know that Spike would come crying to Buffy that his latest vampire friend was trying to destroy the world."

Rolling her eyes, Anya sighed. Friends? Yeah, right. Didn't Xander know anything about vampire 'partnerships.' She stole the remaining half of the cookie from Xander's hand and munched on it. He might not be smartest, but he did look awfully good in his construction uniform and had a nice solid body to curl up to.

She glanced over at Tara, who looked like a rabbit in a fox's den. No doubt brought up by the talk of Spike and Wesley. "So, Joyce, I really like that new chair you bought." Anya pointed over to the flowered upholstered nightmare that someone called a chair. "Xander and I were talking about getting new furniture for our apartment. And I-"

The door opened and everyone yelled, "Surprise!" Xander uncurled his arm and ran toward Willow to hug her as everyone huddled and congratulated her on being leaving for Tibet. Anya blew into her blowout, noticing that neither Tara nor Cordelia had left their respective spots on the couch. Of course, Cordelia had the excuse of being blind.

"We're all very excited for you." Anya patted Willow's arm with a smile on her face. "If you want, I can tell you of the few times I traveled to Tibet."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Anya," Willow replied. She sat down on the couch her lap was filled with presents. There were several guides to Tibet, a language book, and few specialized travel equipment. Giles had given her a huge backpack that was possibly larger than her. But Anya felt that her gift of magical charms to protect against various demons native to Tibet was the best; it was even witch approved. But possibly not by Giles, considering the look he'd just given her.

Dawn sat on the right side of Willow, looking more excited about the going away party than any of them. "There's cake. We have cake too."

"And ice cream." Xander moved from the armchair that both he and Anya occupied. "Anya and I will get it." He smiled at Willow, but Anya knew that he thought she should stay in Sunnydale, especially with Spike and Wesley around.

Following Xander, Anya passed up Joyce's offer to help them and made a beeline for the freezer. The ice cream was vanilla, an almost empty canvas for everyone to push his or her feelings into.

Xander picked up a knife and started cutting the cake. "I just don't understand why she's leaving now of all times," he started speaking lowly and softly enough for the others not to hear. "I mean, Willow and I have been best friends since before I could properly aim while standing up to pee."

"You still can't, honey," Anya interrupted. "But lucky for you, I love you anyway. I mean I was called on for less than that." She dug out a serving spoon.

"Ahn, I don't think this is the time," Xander sighed. "I just don't understand why Wil's leaving."

"Now, honey, you can't expect Willow to turn down academic opportunity for slaying demons." Heck, if it wasn't for Xander, Anya would've left the Hellmouth herself. Sipping margaritas brought to her by cabana boys sounded a lot better than scrubbing ooze off her clothing.

"She did once," Xander snapped and sighed. "We need her. Buffy needs her. Tara needs her."

"It must be really hard for Tara." Anya took a stack of paper bowls from the cabinets. She was a bit unsettled by Xander's sharp words, but she knew that he was upset about Willow and not with her. "I mean, Tara gets raped and tortured by evil vampires and then finds out that her lover is leaving her to go halfway across the globe."

"Would you ever do that to me, Xander?" Anya frowned. She needed to know that he wouldn't leave when she needed him.

"Well, it's not like The Fellowship Committee for Really Smart People is calling me up and saying 'hey, Xander, how about academic bliss.'" Xander loaded the plates into his arms and Anya held her breath, almost tempted to wish an appropriate answer for him. "But no," he finally answered, much to her relief.

"You promise?" Anya moved closer to him, a smile on her face. She spotted Willow standing at the doorway from the corner of her eye and wondered just how much she'd heard.

"Of course, I promise." Xander leaned down and kissed Anya. "I'll stay over the Hellmouth as long as you're with me," he muttered.

When Anya looked up from their kiss, Willow was gone from her post by the door.

*****

Wesley held onto the boy's shoulder as he took a long drink. The boy tasted salty from heat and close contact at the club, but the blood was marvelous. Every inch of Wesley's body craved the next victim, the next one he could drain until they were nothing. Blood called to him; and it'd been a lot harder to control his urges than he'd ever imagined.

He wondered just how Angel did it. But he quickly gave up the thought for more interesting prospects.

And one such prospect had already finished making a meal of the boy's girlfriend. How to entertain Spike had been a larger task than Wesley had ever expected, but the newly born part of him was reluctant to leave his lover behind.

Except maybe if they let out Angelus.

He let the boy's body drop to the ground, and his eyes flickered from golden to blue. "I do believe it's time to go home." Wesley looked up at the skyline as if expecting for the sun to suddenly burst onto stage.

"Home already? And here I was just starting to have fun." Spike's tongue slipped from his mouth and licked the bit of spilled blood on his chin. "Sun won't be out for another hour or so."

Wesley watched Spike, knowing that ever since Spike killed Wesley's father, he'd been vying for power. (He still heard Angel's mocking voice in his head about family's blood being the sweetest.) And after they killed the Slayer and all her friends, he would perhaps consider other options.

"Besides," Spike whispered, his mouth inches away from Wesley's, "I thought we could do other things." His hand reached down and groped Wesley's cock.

"In an alleyway?" Wesley questioned. He didn't want to be caught with his trousers down, literally, by Buffy; though he was curious as to what exactly she would do if she found him fucking Spike.

Spike gave Wesley his trademark smirk. "Yeah, love. Got a problem with my choice of location?"

"Not at all." Wesley kept his voice measured, despite Spike's continued touching of his cock. "It's not like I've never had a quick fuck in an alley before. Once with a beautiful hooker who had the tightest arse, wonder if you could top him?"

Spike unfastened the top of Wesley's leather trousers. "Were you human then?"

"Yes." Wesley nodded and allowed Spike to push him against the concrete wall of an abandoned industrial building. "And you died a virgin." He growled and grabbed the back of Spike's hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

Groaning into the kiss, Spike worked Wesley's trousers down far enough to expose his cock. His hand quickly stroked Wesley.

Wesley became impatient and needy. He grabbed Spike's hip and turned them around so Spike faced the brick wall. His fingers popped the buttons on Spike's trousers and yanked them down, pulling his long duster out of the way. "Tell me what you want, Spike."

"You," Spike growled. He pushed his arse back against Wesley's hard cock.

Wesley smiled as he had Spike just where he wanted him. As he rubbed himself against Spike, Wesley rummaged for the tiny packet lubricant that he knew Spike kept in his front pocket in anticipation.

Spike snorted as Wesley's hand pulled out of his sagging jeans. "Could've asked me to get it."

"You'll keep your hands on the wall," Wesley ordered, his voice clear despite his body's insistence on fucking Spike. If he'd had to wait much longer, he might've forgone the lubricant. Wesley let out a groan as he slicked himself and thrust into Spike.

*****

It'd been two weeks since Willow had left for Tibet, and the Hellmouth had been relatively quiet. So quiet that Giles had called Scooby meetings every night of the week and insisted that Buffy up her patrols. Anya spent most of her time working at the Magic Box. The Hellmouth might've been quiet, but sales were up.

She and Xander had spent the Sunday after Willow's departure moving Cordelia into the extra bedroom in their apartment. Anya had managed to get the landlord to lessen the extra person fees by claiming that Cordelia was her cousin and, not to mention, blinded in a terrible tragedy. More nights than not, Tara had slept on their couch, not that Anya blamed the girl for not wanting to walk back to campus in the dark.

Anya sighed as she tossed Xander's empty beer bottles into the recycle bin. There'd been something off about the entire day, from the woman who wanted pig's feet for a love spell (everyone knew that doves were a better symbol of love) to how the door jammed this evening when she came home.

"Hello, Cordy," Anya greeted Cordelia as she walked out of the bathroom. She wasn't sure that she'd ever get used to Xander's ex living with them. Not that she was worried, especially when Cordelia walked around without her dark glasses on.

Cordelia held a towel around her body as she bumped into a table corner. "Anya." She still hadn't mastered the layout of the apartment, and every day Anya found a picture or trinket that had been knocked off the wall or a table.

"I convinced Giles to forgo the Scooby meeting tonight. So there'll only be patrolling unless you have one of those head splitting visions. Have you ever thought about getting that checked out by a doctor?" Anya pulled a can of refried beans from her cupboard. "How does Mexican sound for dinner?"

"I'm fine," Cordelia assured her. "And Mexican works, but you might want to keep the beans away from Xander."

Anya snorted as Cordelia was starting to grow on her. "Good point. Maybe I'll order sushi from the place down the street. Seaweed is much better on the constitution."

"Sushi's good. I'm going to get dressed now." Cordelia moved toward her bedroom and Anya watched her move away.

Putting the can away, Anya sighed. Okay, maybe she still was on edge. She picked up the phone and ordered dinner. As she waited, she poured herself a glass of wine and couldn't help but think she should've snagged the bottle of scotch she'd found in Giles' desk drawer. Not that she was snooping.

She looked over as the door opened. "Welcome home, honey." With a grin on her face, Anya walked toward Xander. She'd seen on a television show that the perfect woman was supposed to greet her man in order to have a successful relationship. When she'd explained this to Tara, Tara took her hand and offered to loan her a book on feminism. Anya liked to incorporate a little of both in her life, and it seemed to work.

"Hey, Ahn, how was work?" Xander smelled a little sweaty. He needed a shower after a day of building houses. Despite enjoying the view of his large muscles, Anya hoped that he soon received a promotion to management or supervising.

Anya kissed him. "Work was the same as always. Giles was on edge. Apparently, a few men from a local gay club have gone missing, and he suspects that it's Spike and Wesley. I guess even the undead need to shake their booties once in a while."

"Were you watching more MTV with Dawn?" Xander teased her. He moved toward the refrigerator and took a beer out.

"Nope. But some guy dropped off fliers at the Magic Box for dance lessons. I mean, since when do I give free advertising. So I signed us up for free dance lessons in exchange for allowing him to place his ads on our counter." Anya thought that it would do Xander a little good to do something besides work and slay demons. It would be good for both of them and add a little spice to their relationship, not that it needed spice.

Xander moved to his armchair and flicked on the television. He sighed. "I don't know if we have the time. With Willow in Tibet, I don't think that we can take the chance that an elaborate hokey pokey would sprain an ankle." He turned the set to a 24-hour news channel.

"Fine." Anya crossed her arms, frowning. "Maybe I'll ask Giles. He seemed interested in learning something more." She headed to the bedroom, slamming the door. Let Xander watch about towns in the Middle East blown up by bombs and puppies rescued from streams.

She straightened out the bed's comforter with a tug before sitting down. Taking a pillow into her arms, she squished it close to her body. She heard Xander softly talking to Cordelia, answering her questions about the pictures on the screen.

Quiet tears fell from Anya's eyes. Xander used to tell her when he was upset about something, but everyone had been distant lately ever since Willow had left. Willow was Xander's best friend, and Xander was Anya's best friend; and she resolved not to sit idle and let Xander leave the way that Willow had.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Anya stood up and walked into the bathroom. She blew her nose and sat down on the toilet to pee. She avoided looking into the full-length mirror across from her, deciding that she also needed to move it closer to the door. It was rather unsettling to watch oneself on the toilet.

Flushing, she moved to wash her hands. Anya took a cloth out and dabbed her eyes with cold cream where her mascara had started to run. With a smile, she reapplied it before giving her lips an extra shine with a bit of gloss.

Hearing a knock on the door, she grabbed her wallet from the dresser and moved toward the front door. "I'll get it," she announced as she exited the bedroom. She smiled and tipped the delivery man.

Dinner was relatively quiet, and for Cordelia's size, Anya was surprised just how much sushi she downed. She attempted to make conversation by asking Cordelia her opinion of the whole dancing lessons thing, but that only got her a dirty look from Xander.

As he finished, Xander stood up and moved toward his weapon's chest. He took a large sword out from it and stuck a stake in his pocket. "You should probably put on different shoes, Ahn. Buffy might get away with heels higher than Uhura in 1966, but we non-superheroes have to stick to our sneakers."

Anya cleared the dishes. "Will you be fine here by yourself, Cordelia?" She wasn't feeling up for patrol. Things were easier with wishes and powers. Besides vampire dust made her cough.

"I wouldn't mind some alone time." Cordelia gave her a smile.

Sighing, Anya tossed the empty plastic trays into the garbage. After changing into sensible shoes, she grabbed a stake and stuck it into her coat pocket, following Xander to their car.

Once he closed his door, Xander turned to face her. "Are you mad at me?" The knuckles on his right hand were turning white from his tight grip on the steering wheel.

"I'm just..." Anya buckled her seatbelt and finally understood why Dawn stuck her tongue in response to things she didn't enjoy. "I'm just tired, Xander. I don't want patrol tonight. I've had an off-day."

Xander reached out and squeezed her hand. "We'll make sure that it's a short patrol." He quietly changed the subject and started telling Anya about some off-colored jokes that the boys at the job had told him.

"Glad to see you could make it." Buffy smiled at them as they walked into the graveyard. "Giles was just telling me about the subtle differences from normative Latin compared to the scroll he's translating."

"It could be of some importance, Buffy." Giles carried a crossbow and hustled after Buffy.

"We're always happy to help, Buffy." While she might've shared her displeasure in the car, Anya knew that she needed to give a party line to the rest of them. "Now where's the vampires?"

"Right here, love," answered Spike as he appeared from behind a crypt. "And I'm touched that you asked." His hand rubbed his chest.

Xander held his sword, pointing it toward Spike. "You had to ask."

"I wouldn't worry about the bird, Xander." Spike tossed the cigarette he'd been smoking on the ground and stepped on it.

"Spike's right. I'd worry about yourself." Wesley joined Spike. Somehow he looked even more frightening in game face than Spike, but perhaps it was because Anya had also met Wesley when he was human.

Buffy stepped away from the Scoobies, moving closer to Spike and Wesley with a stake poised in her hand. "Aw and to think that I'd missed you guys." She ran toward Wesley, a kick flying in the air.

The other three went to take on Spike. Okay, Anya lagged behind, but both Xander and Giles were better fighters than she was. Spike quickly threw Xander toward a tree, and Anya rushed over toward him.

Xander groaned and held out his hand for Anya to help him to his feet. His sword had dropped down to the ground, but apparently Giles had picked it up in the meantime. "Thanks."

Anya watched him limp. "Are you okay?" She pulled her green coat around her.

"We have to help Buffy." Xander clutched his stake and went back toward the fight.

Anya watched as Buffy toppled over, Wesley's fist in her face. That was going to bruise in the morning, and Anya hoped that she had the correct cover up. She ran behind Spike, aiming her stake at his heart.

Again, Spike threw off all three of his attackers. "Even the Council boys were better fighters than you lot. Of course, Rupert, you're probably just getting a little old." He stumbled backward as Giles hit him in the shoulder with a bow.

Anya looked over at Buffy, who was on her back in the grass with Wesley. He strangled Buffy as she tried to kick up. Anya rushed over to Buffy as her legs didn't seem to be getting high enough to hurt Wesley. "Buffy!" Her fists hit against Wesley's back. "Let her go, you bastard."

Wesley reached out his arm and pushed Anya away. The action gave enough leverage for Buffy to start to move upward from the grass and just enough for Wesley to reach down and snap Buffy's neck.

Anya's hands went to her ears at the awful crack, and she found that she couldn't move as Wesley dropped Buffy's limp body back down to the ground. She heard Spike laughing and watched Xander and Giles run toward Buffy.

Spike and Wesley disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Anya didn't let herself wonder why they'd left the rest of them alive. Of course, the Slayer had been the prize.

Giles pressed his fingers to Buffy's pulse point and started to perform CPR. Maybe she wasn't dead; Anya made a silent wish for their sake. But then Xander started pulling Giles off Buffy. Anya couldn't see Buffy moving and then she heard Giles sobbing.

Anya couldn't look at them any longer, and she bit back her own tears. Between the trees, she heard a cry and saw Angel stumbling toward them.

*****

Tara ran her hand down Dawn's hair as they stood around Buffy's grave. Everyone had already said their bit about Buffy's life, and Tara played with the well-used handkerchief in her pocket. She kept on the opposite side from Angel, not wanting to remember what she'd experienced while under Spike and Wesley's lock and key. But at least, she was still alive, unlike Buffy. All those times she'd feared that they'd finally killed her, Tara wondered why this wasn't her.

Xander had tried again and again to contact Willow in Tibet. Giles suggested that they sent a message via other channels, but Tara insisted that Willow was where she needed to be. Yes, she needed to know of Buffy's death, but not a message to rush home. Willow didn't need to come back to Sunnydale through guilt, and Angel mentioned a monastery he knew where Willow could meditate through her sorrow.

Tara, Dawn, Giles, and Joyce had chosen a spot under a large tree. It was peaceful, and Dawn said that the aspen trees reminded her of the playground she and Buffy played in as children. Tara let Dawn move forward and lay a clump of roses by Buffy's headstone. Instead of returning to Tara, Dawn hugged her mother, sobbing into Joyce's maroon sweater.

Tara was surprised at Joyce's strength through her daughter's death. Together with Giles, they'd arranged the funeral and buried Buffy. Tara recalled when her own mother died and knew that she didn't handle herself with Joyce's grace. Mostly, Tara worried about Giles, who'd stopped calling Scoobie meetings unless Xander sprung them on him. They continued to patrol almost every night, but it wasn't the same even in Xander attempted to pretend.

Watching Angel's cheek glisten with tears, Tara stood in silence with the rest of them. They'd find a way to continue fighting on the Hellmouth and to kill both Spike and Wesley before they could move on.

Cordelia, who had become Tara's confidant, spent most of her time comforting and playing nursemaid to Angel, and Tara felt rather lonely. She'd overheard Joyce talking about moving away from the Hellmouth and panged at the thought of losing the woman who had become a mother of sorts to all of them.

As Tara looked around from Dawn and Joyce, Xander and Anya, Angel and Cordelia, and finally to Giles, Tara realized why she wasn't leaving; they were her family. She laid a bundle of violets on Buffy's grave.

The World We Made

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