by Rob Sorenson

All things considered, Spike was having himself a pretty crazy night.

As he and his two partners in crime were screaming their way east on Interstate 4 he reflected on the up and down nature of things.

They'd been presented with a nearly impossible situation that could easily result in the slaughter of thousands.

Buffy had professed her devotion to him for the rest of her life. Spike dwelled on that one for some time. If there had been a finer moment in the last century or so, he didn't know what it was.

A short time later the group had committed to something potentially awful, but it provided them with a glimmer of hope that unnecessary bloodshed could be avoided.

Shortly after that Faith had sweet talked Xander into renting a Mustang convertible for her; he'd only agreed to this once it was
accompanied by an extracted promise that she would drive carefully. Spike rolled his eyes inwardly at that one. The whelp was well and truly whipped if he accepted such a thing. As the speedometer approached triple digits Spike raised his face to the night sky, feeling the wind slice through his hair. Bloody marvelous.

As an added bonus Angel was nearly going out of his mind at Faith's offensive driving style, but trying desperately not to show it. Watching Peaches crawl out of his skin was always good for a chuckle.

Had he mentioned that Buffy had professed her devotion to him for the rest of her life? Right, he probably had. Still, some things are so amazing they bear repeating.

All in all, it had already been a Hell of an evening, and they had a ways to go yet. He grinned as Angel finally allowed himself to voice his displeasure.

"Faith, slow down."

"Slow down? We gotta get there and back, dude. No time to turn all wussy."

"If we get pulled over, none of us exactly have driver's licenses. In case you've forgotten, none of us have last names."

Spike saw Faith's face change almost imperceptibly at that one. He nearly reached over and smacked Angel in the back of his head for his insensitivity. Her lack of a real identity was a sore point for her and Spike respected her enough not to go there. As he expected, however, Faith played off the sting in a hurry.

"Yeah well...if the cops try to pull me over I'll outrun 'em."

"Faith--"

"We're here. Stop whining already."

Faith took the exit into downtown Orlando, searching for police headquarters. After a few screeching turns that nearly restarted Angel's heart they came upon the building, a rather nondescript concrete edifice reaching fifteen stories above the earth. A wide stairway ran along the front, and officers of all ranks were seen moving in and out of the building constantly. Faith sighed heavily and looked over to Angel.

"This is gonna be interesting."

"We need a plan."

"Anything in mind?"

Angel shrugged. "Willow showed me a copy of the building's blueprints. There's an air duct that goes directly into the Armory section, where all the weapons are kept. I'm not sure if I could, but you two should fit into that amount of space pretty easily."

Before Spike could react nastily to yet another inferred jab at his size, Faith responded incredulously.

"Lemme get this straight. You want me to crawl around in a dark, confined space surrounded by four metal walls, with guys in uniform all over the place? Sorry, but that's a little too familiar if ya know what I'm sayin'."

Angel considered. "Ok, what about getting hold of some uniforms and going in with a disguise? If we were dressed as cops we might even be able to slip into the Armory without being questioned."

Spike spoke up first this time.

"I'm not gettin' dressed up like one of the bloody Village People. Look, let's just do this right. We walk in there, find the place, knock out whoever we have to and nick the stuff. Not like it's sodding Fort Knox, is it?"

Faith jerked her thumb toward the back seat.

"I'm with Blondie."

Angel sighed and shook his head. "Let's park the car. We'll think about it some more on the way over."

Faith careened around another corner and made her way into a high rise garage facing Church Street. She dug into her pocket as they approached the booth. The woman looked at Faith with disinterest, holding out her hand without so much as a grin.

"Seven dollars."

The Slayer produced the only bill she had. Spike's eyes widened as he leaned forward to address his elder.

"Is that a hundred dollar bill I see?"

"Yeah. Xander slipped her a couple in case she needed some cash."

"No wonder she's in love with the poncet."

The garage attendant was frowning.

"Ma'am, we don't take any bills larger than twenties. Don't you have anything smaller?"

"No, that's all I got. Sorry." Faith eyed the oodles of cash in the drawer, more than enough to cover a thousand dollar bill if the attendant so chose.

"I'm sorry too, ma'am. I can't allow you to park here if you don't have anything smaller."

Faith grew annoyed. "Look, keep the c-note already. I don't even want all that change you got in there. I have urgent stuff I gotta do."

The attendant, now joined by a second woman in the booth--apparently her relief for the night--shook her head.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you and your--"

She smirked slightly as she searched for words.

"You and your 'bsuiness associates' will have to find another place to have your urgent meeting."

Faith's eyes narrowed dangerously as she leaned toward the booth.

"I really hope you're not saying what I think you are."

The second attendant whispered to her co-worker. "Check that out. A hooker who says she can think."

Both attendants were chuckling, unaware that Slayers and vampires had enhanced hearing. Faith was moving now.

"Ok bitch, now I gotta hurtcha."

She felt a restraining hand on each shoulder, one for each vampire in the car. Spike took a long look into the booth and put his free hand on the door. He flung himself out from the back seat feet first, duster billowing behind him as he practically floated for a moment. The back of his leather garment came to rest on top of Faith's head, prompting the Slayer to fling it off in fury, clearly on the edge of committing several felonies.

Spike was now standing directly between Faith and the two parking attendants, both of whom shared open mouthed gazes at the sight of the slender blonde man. He smiled at them softly.

"Evenin', ladies. I was wonderin' if I could trouble you for a favor."

Both attendants were barely able to make audible noises. Their combined voices were able to croak out "uhhhh" in response.

"As my friend here was saying, we do have urgent business tonight. Could we perhaps park here for a bit?"

Somehow the second attendant managed to find words.

"W-well, I'm sorry sir, but we can't accept a hundred dol--"

Spike struck a contemplative pose, speaking as if he hadn't heard her denial.

"Say now, it's awfully hot in here, init?"

Keeping his eyes on them he slowly removed his duster, revealing a form fitting sleeveless tee shirt. It was black to match his jeans, making the pale skin of his arms stand in stark contrast to his outfit. He flung his duster behind him dramatically, hitting Faith in the face a second time. She ripped it away, her eyes wide with barely controlled fury as he continued.

"I never caught your names, ladies. If I may ask.."

He put his hands on each side of the ledge of the booth, leaning in toward them. The first attendant they'd seen spoke hoarsely, trying not to blatantly stare at his deliberately flexed triceps.

"I-I'm Betsy."

"Hello, Betsy. Pleased to meet you." He looked to his left. "And
yours?"

The second attendant opened her mouth, but no words came out. She held up a finger and took a drink of water with a shaking hand so that she could muster up the moisture to speak.

"Laura. My name is Laura."

"Betsy and Laura. Beautiful names, those. Classical, actually. Say, you ladies wouldn't happen to do any modeling, would you?"

Both women's eyes widened as they responded simultaneously.

"No."

Betsy spoke. "I work in the lingerie department at Sears during the day."

"I work in the pharmacy at Wal-Mart," Laura chipped in.

Spike bit his lower lip in an exaggerated way and tilted his head.

"Well now...idn't that neat. I could've sworn beautiful women like yourselves would be models. I'm a photographer, you see. Based in Miami. I'm doing an underwear shoot with these two tonight on the roof of the tallest building in the city, but I'm losing the moonlight. We need to get there rather quickly."

"W-well, I don't know if we can--"

Spike held up a hand.

"Wait a moment. You two might be just who I need for a shoot I'm doing at home next month. Have you ever modeled swimwear?"

Both simply shook their heads.

"See, I'm looking for fresh faces in this case. Girls that haven't been seen before. In fact, I was going to model some of the mens' suits myself. You ladies wouldn't mind spending some time with me, would you?"

His face turned serious as he finished them off.

"I won't lie to you, I'll be expecting a lot. I need you both to rub me down with oil in front of the camera. You have to be willing to let your inhibitions go for a bit. Would you be willing to do that? Can you go that extra mile for me?"

Betsy blurted out, "Oh, Hell, yes!!"

As Laura was out of water, she only managed to nod with enthusiasm. Spike smiled.

"Brilliant. Right then, I'll look forward to working with you. My company's home office is in California. Call them and I'll get back to you."

Spike gave them one of Xander and Willow's business cards out of his wallet--for the life of him he couldn't remember why he had that--and turned to walk away. He turned suddenly. "Oh, about the parking--"

"Go ahead," Betsy said, smiling brightly. The parched Laura resumed her enthusiastic nodding.

He smirked at them with a tilt of his head.

"Thanks ever so, ladies. See you again soon."

He slid back into the convertible as the tires screeched. Faith turned to him with a grin after she parked the car.

"I gotta give it to you, Spike. That was friggin smooth. Throw that coat in my face again, though, and I'll stomp a mudhole in you."

Angel was rubbing his eyes.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Spike scoffed. "Oh, come on, Peaches. You're just jealous 'cause you couldn't have done that in a million years."

"Let's just do what we came here to do."

At that, Faith hit the remote to lock the doors and they began walking toward the police station.

**********************************************

Buffy, Xander and Willow were standing in the middle of the Slayer's room. The beds had been moved far enough to one side to allow them enough space. Willow was providing details about what was to take place.

"We need to all join hands and form a triangle. Once this is done we get on our knees and I begin to chant. Nothing too tricky there."

Buffy frowned as they grasped one another. "Are we going to be on our knees for while? I get kind of stiff and sore if I stay like that for a long period."

Xander smirked. "Hey Buff, we can wait another minute if you want to dig out the knee pads you keep around for those special occasions with Spike."

There was silence for a moment. Suddenly Xander felt a growing pressure on his hand.

"Ow. Owie owie owie owie!! Ok, I'm sorry! Cut it out!"

Buffy gave him a smirk of her own.

"Got any more smartass remarks?"

Willow sighed audibly. "Can we focus here, please?"

Both her friends bowed their heads slightly, like little kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar as Willow continued her explanation.

"As I was saying, I'll be chanting to Ehecatl, Aztec god of weather. Eventually, that is. The first thing we have to do is leave our earthly vessels and enjoin to make the spell effective."

This caused Buffy to look up.

"Enjoin? What does that mean exactly?"

"To make this work I needed three souls to attain the necessary elements. Buffy, your strength represents wind. My own spiritual gifts represent flowing water, or more specifically in this case, rain. Xander represents awareness that I'm calling on these elements and accepting responsibility for the consequences on behalf of humanity. All three souls--temporarily at least--must combine as one."

Xander and Buffy had nothing to contribute here, so they simply nodded. Willow sighed deeply before continuing.

"Ok, now we come to the hard part. For us to enjoin properly, we all have to be willing to completely open up to one another."

She hesitated a moment. Xander piped in.

"Wills, we've all been best friends for years. Things are pretty much out in the open between us, right?"

She shook her head. "Not like this."

Buffy tilted her head in confusion. "Explain."

"Look, we might think we know each other really well. On the surface, I guess we do...but this enjoining will open up everything. Things we did to hurt each other that we just don't talk about. Guilt. Anger. Fantasies--and yes, Xander, I DO mean those kind, but I also mean the things we dream of regarding our lives in general...even if we can never have them.
We're going to know each other as intimately as we know ourselves. Possibly even better, because everything we hide or put away for the sake of maintaining our sanity is going to be out there for all of us to see."

Willow stopped to gather herself before finishing.

"Do you understand what I mean? What it will mean if we do this?"

No one spoke for a moment. Xander broke the silence.

"Do we have any other choice?"

"Of course. We don't do this spell and try to think of another way."

"There isn't time, Will. We do this, or..."

Buffy finished Xander's sentence softly.

"We're screwed."

Willow looked from one best friend to the other.

"Obviously I knew the deal before I came in here, so it should be clear that I'm willing to do this because there is no other way. Still, I want to make it official. I'm in on this. All the way."

Xander spoke up immediately.

"I'm not even sure what you guys don't already know about me, but either way this is what has to be done. I'm in too."

Buffy was taking longer to commit. The instinct to keep people away from her most intimate thoughts was strong. For a thousand years, with hundreds of heroic young girls preceding her, the Slayer had been indoctrinated that the mystical walk against the Dark was to be taken alone. To a great degree she had resisted this tradition, but that sense of guarded loneliness was still ingrained within her. To open herself up completely to anyone was a monumental step. Finally she took a deep breath to gain her composure and spoke one word to Willow.

"Ok."

Willow hesitated for a long beat before nodding.

"Let's get started."

Slowly the core of the Scooby Gang collectively sank to their knees, hands clasped. All three took a deep breath at nearly the same moment. Willow spoke for a few minutes in an ancient dialect. It was all Greek to Buffy and Xander.

In fact it was Greek the Wiccan was speaking, but they didn't know that. Once finished, Willow hesitated before saying one last word in their native tongue.

"Reveal."

Their heads snapped back in one motion; immediately they began to breathe harder as the emotional weight of three people were felt by each.

Buffy had already seen much of Xander's personal feelings when she spent time in his silly yet tortured mind. Now she saw even more, this time with Willow along to see these things with her.

His deep sense of self doubt and uselessness that plagued him incessantly.

The almost frightening intensity of his passion toward Faith, despite the pain she'd caused him in the past.

His gratitude and staunch defense of all things Willow, even in the face of her worst actions.

The parental feeling toward Dawn that deeply touched Buffy's heart in particular.

The two women weren't surprised by any of that, but found themselves stunned when they felt his guilt over his decisions regarding Angel and Spike...especially Angel, of course. Buffy had known of his terrible moment of decision for some time; she'd never known, however, that it still affected him enormously.

They learned about the moment he had heard the sickening thud of Buffy's body hitting the ground...the sound that would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Buffy was again deeply moved to learn how Xander had viewed Rupert Giles and Joyce Summers as the closest thing to real parents that he'd ever known, and grieved as such when they left him.

Above all, Willow and Buffy felt his unshakable loyalty toward them. Xander's love was almost a living thing that could be touched in this magical world in which they'd found themselves ensconced; Buffy seemed helpless to stop the tears from streaming down her face. This was where his power could be found, plumbing the depths of his heart.

Xander and Buffy could feel Willow's torturous journey to self acceptance. Her parents had treated her as a social experiment rather than a living, breathing human being. Xander had never understood how important he had been simply because he was willing to listen to her. He felt sadness that he'd never realized how much she'd been wounded by his taking of her feelings for granted in past years. He hadn't even taken the time to notice what had been plain to everyone else. How cruel had he been to her when he asked for advice on how to get a date with Buffy? Hurting Willow was something Xander simply could not abide, yet few people had hurt her as profoundly as he had.

On top of everything else, both Xander and Buffy had completely missed how much Willow was hurting now. Xander had been so wrapped up in Faith that the his oldest friend's sense of emptiness had gone virtually unnoticed by him...and they
spent time together virtually every day.

Buffy had Spike, and her fierce love and joy at finally finding steady happiness was obvious without the spell they were under.

Xander had Faith, and his life was immeasurably richer because of it.

Willow...had no one.

Tara and Oz had convinced Willow that maybe life was indeed worth living. Once she lost Tara...she'd murdered the man responsible. There was no taking that back, and she wondered if the gaping hole in her romantic life served as penance for her actions. She'd lashed out at Xander and Faith's relationship out of envy more than anything else. Xander chastised himself:
how could he have missed that? Again, Willow was hurting and he hadn't noticed. Buffy felt like a bad friend.

Willow and Xander, for their part, were experiencing the deep sense of guilt and duty that made up the complex package of Buffy Summers.

The guilt that accompanied the feeling that she was a major contributor to her parents breakup, occurring almost simultaneously with the introduction of her terrible, lonely duty.

The loneliness which was only slightly mollified once she moved to Sunnydale. Others now knew her secret and chose to stand by her side. She was forever grateful for their dedication and loyalty. On the other hand, her burden increased with the feeling that their lives were now in her hands, however misguided that feeling may have been. Therefore the weight of those that died in service to her was that much greater.

The impossibly difficult conflict of teenage love toward a creature she was programmed to hate; the subsequent crushing blow of sentencing him to a century of torment...all to protect a world that apparently didn't seem to care.

The unexplainable feeling of territorial jealousy as Faith had come along, followed by a dangerous dance with the reckless dark side of unchecked power. It had culminated with a terrible desire to kill her Dark counterpart to save Angel's life. Buffy felt more guilt for having done that than anything else, and Willow found herself wishing she could make her understand that there had been no choice...but that was foolish, wasn't it?

Buffy was aware of the choice and why she made it. That wasn't the issue. It wasn't the necessity of killing Faith that bothered Buffy; it was how much she WANTED to do it that continues to gnaw at her subconscious.

Just like Willow had wanted to kill Warren.

Just like Xander had wanted Angel to die, soul or no soul.

The darkness that they'd all sworn to fight in their own way had engulfed them, however briefly. All three felt the enormous power of that common ground all at once.

Then it happened.

In stunning clarity, Willow and Xander saw Death.

***************************************************

Pure white light. That was the first image that crossed their minds.

Xander felt like he was bathing in it. The light was a living thing, providing a warmth and tenderness the likes of which he'd never experienced. His body no longer existed in this place; all that featured here was light without shadow, brilliantly shining with unutterable softness. After some time (Seconds? Millenia? Who knew? Who cared?) Xander decided to look around.

He felt no physical pressure whatsoever as his spirit moved among the seemingly limitless space. Distance meant nothing. If one willed it, the soul traveled without effort. As he began to adjust to his surroundings he sensed outlines. There was no discernable difference in any of the nearly translucent shapes that came before him. Gender was nonexistent; every form was perfectly balanced with the other.

Yet Xander recognized them all.

Jesse.

Jenny Calendar.

Kendra.

Mom...

<Mom?> Xander was momentarily confused. His own mother remained in the physical world. Why would he call Joyce Summers...

It hit him with sickening force. Xander wasn't experiencing this. He was simply feeling what Buffy had.

After she sacrificed herself for them all.

Suddenly he heard Joyce's voice from everywhere, like music within his being.

<Buffy.>

Xander heard the sound of the Slayer's voice emanating from his own spirit.

<M-mom? Oh, God...mama?>

<Yes, honey. I'm here. Welcome, baby.>

<Where...>

<You're with us right now. Everything is ok, sweetheart.>

Xander felt Buffy's joyous sobbing as she tried to continue.

<Oh, Mama...h-how...>

<Shhhh. Don't cry. Oh, Buffy...this is to be your home. You can rest for now.>

<Dawn...and Willow, and Xander...>

<They'll be here very soon. You saved them. You saved everyone. Buffy, I'm so proud of you.>

<If I saved them, why are they coming here?>

<Everyone you love comes here eventually, Buffy. When we leave the physical world, we join with those we care about the most. This is the reward. There is no pain here. Fear doesn't exist. No anger or bitterness. Just...light. Everything is light. All your burdens are laid down. Time doesn't exist here, not in the way we understood it. I feel like I just arrived, and yet here you are. My beautiful Buffy. You've suffered more than anyone should. Not right now, though. Right now just look around with me while we can. There isn't much time for you.>

Xander again was awash with soft light as he felt the sensation of movement. The feeling was indescribable to him. If someone asked him to put it into words, he didn't think he was capable.

Willow was, though.

This is what Peace and Love actually looked like. They were the only things in this dimension that could be seen or felt. Willow had, of course, come to the same conclusion as Xander when she saw the image of Joyce in Buffy's memory. She was simply feeling what Buffy had.

Every fiber of her being felt warm. Safe and loved. Willow could feel Buffy tingling with excitement and wonder. This was where pain and regret were washed away by a mere thought. Forgiveness and redemption weren't just concepts here, they were a tangible reality. Willow felt Buffy's absolute assurance that her life had been a successfully completed journey, and she'd done the best she could despite her faults. Now what lay ahead was seemingly limitless joy, and shortly she would be
joined by all those she'd loved in her earthly life. The lesson was clear.

It wasn't specific actions that really mattered in human existence. It was the simple ability to get through it, while making something that resembled a positive contribution. Just surviving and loving those closest to you was a heroic act in itself; more than enough to earn the priceless reward of eternal Rest.

Rest with a capital R. The type of feeling that is only briefly touched upon in the earthly realm...those blissful, all too rare moments when all is right with the world.

Getting married.

Gazing into the eyes of one's own child for the first time.

Seeing the grateful look in someone's eyes as you did something selfless to brighten their day.

Making love to someone who made you feel that no one existed in the world except the two of you, if only for a short while, thereby transforming something you'd been taught to believe was dirty into the purest feeling of contentment that one could experience.

A piece of music that brought tears to your eyes for no reason at
all.

Just moments. Brief, foreshadowing moments of the eternal gift that was reserved for those who lived a good life; those who had left grieving loved ones behind.

The voice of Joyce Summers came wafting through once again.

<You thought you knew what you were? What was to come? You hadn't even begun. The trials that you have to endure will be over soon, baby. This is where life will really begin for you.>

Willow and Xander could feel Buffy's confusion.

<Soon? But...I'm here. It's over.>

No movement could be discerned in the shape before them, but Willow and Xander somehow knew that the shimmering apparition was slowly shaking it's head.

<No honey, it isn't. It was decided that you deserved a glimpse of what lay beyond your duties in your dimension. You're so special, Buffy...you and all those you care about make the world a better place to live. They still need you.>

<No. Please Mom, I don't want to go back. Why can't I stay?>

<The time will come when you will all join us here. Not just yet, though. Soon, baby. Very, very soon.>

Willow and Xander were overwhelmed by Buffy's sorrow.

<Mama...please don't make me go back.>

<Shhh. Don't cry. The earth needs you for just a little longer. Your family needs you.>

<Mom-->

<I love you so much. I'll see you soon, little one.>

<But-->

Instantly the softness changed as they lay six feet beneath the earth's surface, encased in a satin lined box of wood.

Terror.

Pure terror coursed through their veins as the wonder of the world she had visited ever so briefly was again replaced by the cold, hard world that she'd suffered so much to protect. Utter confusion and panic reigned within her as she flailed and clawed desperately, hoping and praying she could somehow return to the place where her bounds had finally been loosened.

At last she surfaced, maggots and ants clinging to the flesh that had once been consumed, now crawling and slithering inside her burial gown in a search to regain the nourishment that had been so suddenly ripped away.

Buffy knew the feeling. She staggered through the burning city of Sunnydale...lost in a fog of numb disbelief. Why? Why would she be given a vision of pure goodness, only to be torn from it? How could such a thing happen? What had she done to deserve being thrown back into this awful place?

Visions of pain surrounded her in a clouded nightmare...Buffy saw her own image drawn and quartered by demons. Then Xander. Willow and Tara....no words came to her. She was lost, with no conscious thoughts beyond despair and confusion.

Then she saw it.

The Tower. Yes, the Tower. That horrid metal contraption she'd literally used as a springboard to the Good Place. Maybe she could...

Dawn. Beautiful Dawn, standing on the ledge with her just like before. Yes. This was right. This must be what she should....

Buffy hesitated. There was danger.

Dawn was in danger. Through the tortured haze of her thoughts the Slayer awakened within and forced Buffy to rescue Dawn from peril, barely avoiding the collapsing structure. For Buffy it was symbolic: however briefly, she had stood at the top of the universe.

Until it all came crumbling down, leaving her back where she started.

Back to the place where the only thing she could remember was pain.

********************************************************

The Triangle awoke from their trance-like state, glistening with perspiration. For a long minute, no one had a word to say. At last Willow slumped down to her side and began to cry. Buffy crawled over next to her.

"Willow?"

The witch couldn't contain her heaving sobs enough to speak. Understanding, Buffy gently lifted her from her prone position on the floor and cradled her.

"It'll be all right."

"No! No it won't. Oh God Buffy, I'm so sorry. I'm sooo sorry. Oh God."

"Shhhh. You didn't know. Willow, you couldn't know."

"But I should've known. I should've..."

"It's over. I'm here now, and I'm ok. What you did was just part of something much bigger than both of us. It took me a long time to understand that...but I see it now."

Willow looked at Buffy, her face a picture of sorrow and confusion as she shook her head.

"I don't understand."

"I'm not sure I do either."

She looked from Willow to Xander. He had scooted absently back against the side of the bed, knees pulled into his chest and staring vacantly ahead. Alarmed, she gently released Willow and moved toward him, afraid he'd gone away again.

"Xand?"

Silence.

"Xander, talk to me. Come on."

She was immensely relieved when he spoke with a hoarse voice.

"I guess we deserved to feel that."

Buffy almost imperceptibly shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know."

He shook his head.

"We were stupid. Selfish and stupid."

"Xander, look at me."

The tone of the Slayer's voice made him turn. Her eyes bore into him as she took his hand.

"It took me a long time to understand this...and I'm pretty sure I don't get everything about this now, but...nobody was right or wrong. My leaving and coming back was meant to be a part of something. I have no idea what that was...or is. For some reason, though, I was intentionally put there temporarily. You guys just played your part when you brought me back.
I'm sure of that now."

Xander took a moment to try to soak that in before replying.

"Why?"

Buffy shook her head.

"I wish I knew. It would've made it easier if someone had bothered to tell me the plan rather than put me through that Hell, but...I guess that would be too much to ask. Xander, if I'd known you and Willow were going to have to go through this I would never have agreed to this spell. That was so stupid of me."

"How did you deal?"

"Not very well at first. You may remember that."

He shook his face and covered his face with his hands.

"I was an idiot to judge you. Well, I was always an idiot to judge you, but now..."

Buffy gently took his hands and found his eyes.

"Xander, you never could've understood. It's not like the experience can be explained very well. Would you want to try to explain what you just saw and felt?"

Willow spoke quietly.

"Heaven."

Her friends turned back to her.

"You were right, Buffy. I think we saw heaven."

Buffy nodded, eyes shining.

"Yes, I think we did."

"I don't know how you manage to go on...knowing what you've lost."

"Well...it took me almost year to figure out how to deal. In the end I realized that it just wasn't meant to be. Not yet. Guys, I didn't lose anything. Not forever. I was meant to see it because someone...somewhere thought I deserved a glimpse of what we're fighting for. Now I see my job for what it really is: I fight for all the people who deserve to see that place. I fight so that Evil can never rule this world and take that chance away from them."

Xander gave a hint of a smile for the first time.

"So what you're saying is this whole death and resurrection thing was part of some superheroes incentive plan?"

Buffy surprised him by leaning in and kissing his cheek.

"Not just superheroes. Regular guy heroes, too."

Xander looked down, trying to hold back his emotion. The Slayer put a finger to his chin and again made him look into her eyes.

"We have to finish what we've started, ok? We've come too far to stop now."

He nodded and looked to Willow. She stared back at him with haunted eyes that broke his heart.

"Wills, how much more do we have to do?"

The redhead took a deep breath.

"The enjoining is done. The rest of it is pretty basic stuff...just more physically intense."

Buffy crawled back in front of Willow and offered her hand. After a moment's hesitation, she took it and resumed her knelt position.

"I still can't believe you got through that first year with no one to truly understand."

"Actually, when I wasn't using Spike as a punching bag and sex toy he was pretty nice to talk to."

Willow grinned slightly as the three friends rejoined hands.

"It's surprising, isn't it? Spike has a way of making people want to open up."

Xander nodded.

"I never thought I'd say this, but the guy is a pretty good listener when you give him a chance."

**************************************************

"Oh, Bloody Hell, I can't listen to this any more. Would you please shut up already?"

Angel glared at Spike as they walked up the concrete steps of Orlando Police Headquarters, now speaking in tones so soft only the supernaturally gifted could hear.

"Look, I'm just trying to come up with a way to do this without getting caught. Walking right in there is risky."

"Course it's risky. That's the best part."

Angel addressed the Slayer.

"What about you? You want to play it fast and loose like always, too?"

She stopped short and spun toward him.

"What did you say to me?"

Angel rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say you were fast and loose. It's an expression."

"Oh. Whats it mean?"

"It means if we're reckless you could go back to prison. I'm pretty sure Xander wouldn't want that."

They stared hard at one another for a moment until she dropped her eyes.

"I guess."

She sighed in defeat before continuing.

"Ok, how about we check the place out first? Get a look at what we're dealing with here?"

"Fair enough."

They walked in, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible among the uniforms. Following the posted signs they made their way to the armory, at least slightly surprised they weren't challenged. Angel had a flimsy story about being undercover ready to go, but as yet he hadn't been forced to play that card, which was probably a good thing. Faith spoke quietly while looking straight ahead.

"Any cameras?"

Angel shook his head.

"Not in the main hallway, at least. You can rest assured they'll have them inside the armory itself."

"Great."

"Don't worry, baby. You'd take a lovely mug shot, I'd wager."

"Thanks, blondie. I feel so much better."

They walked by the room as casually as they could, taking note of the lone watch officer seated at the door. As they turned the next corner they huddled quickly. Angel nodded back in the direction they'd come.

"Ok, good news...just one guard."

Faith was shaking her head.

"Yeah, but the bad news is still those cameras."

"Spike and I can work around that. We'll just pull our dusters up over our heads while you keep watch from the outside."

"Hey, that's a cool idea, dude. I knew there had to be some reason you two wore those ugly ass things."

Spike grinned.

"Oh come on, Faith. You know we look hot in 'em."

The Slayer rolled her eyes.

"Not even."

The blonde looked to his elder.

"Tell her, Angel."

He looked away, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, the duster does give us a certain mystique--"

"Whatever. Get over yourselves already. Why don't you just wear a big cape and fling it over your face like Drac--"

They both snapped their heads at her immediately and spoke as one.

"NO."

She stepped back and put up her hands.

"Whoa. Faith strikin' the nerve."

"I can't stand that guy."

"Don't lump me in with that stupid git."

"Whatever. Jeez, you vamps have issues. What is it, cape envy?"

Both were about to strenuously argue again when Faith placed a forefinger over each one's lips.

"Ok, truce. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, 'kay?. Can we get back to the point here? You guys can hide from the cameras. What am I gonna do, enthusiastic cheerleading from the outside?"

Spike frowned. "Now that you mention it, there's this silly movie I had to watch with the Little Bit and one of the girls in it looked just--"

He stopped himself as Faith's eyes hooded dangerously.

"Right, then. I'm probably wrong."

Angel gently changed the subject.

"Like I said, Faith, you'll be keeping watch. First things first, though: do you think you can distract the cop at the door? We need that key on his belt."

Faith's frown turned upside down slowly as she placed her hands on her hips, moving her denim jacket aside as she did so.

"Well...I don't know, boys. What do you think?"

Angel looked at Spike's smirking expression, then looked back to her.

"We think you'll do fine. All right, give us about two minutes."

The two vampires walked down the hall, looking for an alternate exit so they could get behind the guard without walking directly past.

**************************************************

"Tony, I must feed."

Martineau looked up from the dinner that had been served to him in his office, smiling as he chewed. He swallowed and dabbed his lips before he spoke.

"I'm aware of that, darling. You didn't think I'd let you starve, now would you?"

Inge glowered at him.

"I don't know what you'd do. You only let me feed on one human per day while I was on vacation."

"There's no reason to be bitter, Inge. I thought we were being generous. You only require one human every other day."

He indicated the demons sitting quietly to his left with his fork.

"Peter and Paul went to a great deal of work to find suitable people. Really now, how many murderers can there be in Miami?"

"Clearly you haven't been there."

Martineau waved his hand dismissively and went back to his roast beef.

"No matter. I'll have something brought in for you soon."

"Danke."

"You're welcome and speak English, please. My German isn't what it
used to be."

"Neither is mine, apparently."

"I beg your pardon?"

"How long has Hans been ill?"

"In his head? Quite some time, actually."

Martineau smiled at his own joke, but received no response from Inge outside of an ice cold stare that caused him to flinch involuntarily.

"Still sensitive about him, aren't you?"

"Curious. Could you answer my question, please?"

"Eight months. He refused treatment. Simply a matter of time. Why, do you wish to sire him? Make him yours forever in the grand Stoker tradition?"

"Tony, you never change. It's a pity, really."

His smirk faded.

"Watch your tongue if you wish to feed, vampire."

Inge fell silent, maintaining her steely gaze as Martineau ate very slowly, drawing out each bite. He even moaned with seemingly carnal pleasure as he allowed a dribble of blood to seep out of the corner of his mouth from the rare piece of meat. Staring at her with a grin, he slowly licked the liquid clean. The vampire's eye twitched reflexively. Bastard.


Martineau leaned back in his chair and lit a Cuban, slowly puffing as he regarded the former Slayer.

"Inge, I've been your controller for how long now? Twenty years? In all that time, I've treated you well. You've been allowed to see the world between missions, feeding on those who deserve it. By Paul's count you've eliminated just over three thousand undesirable felons. That is an amazing accompishment. We've done more to keep the world safe than anyone will ever
realize. You've eliminated countless demons in your time...and even helped to avert an apocalypse on the bargain. In return, you've been allowed to thrive. Therefore I must ask you: why do you continue to test my patience with your rudeness?"

Inge rolled her eyes.

"Can we stop this, please? No more games. I will not beg you like an orphan. Clearly you brought me here to use me, so let us move on, shall we? I'd like to spend my evening doing more interesting things than hearing your voice. Watching paint dry, for example."

His face darkened.

"I tolerate your insolence because you're useful. Do not assume it will stay that way."

She said nothing. At last he sighed heavily and turned sideways.

"Peter, could you bring the men in please?"

"Yes, sir."

As he left the room Martineau again addressed Inge.

"Is your unlife so bad, really?"

"If you were built to be a killer and you can't because your master only allows it on a whim, how would you feel, Tony?"

He laughed.

"My dear girl, you just described the life of a soldier. I kill at other people's whim for a living. Just like you. The only difference is I'm presented with the occasional opportunity for advancement."

The door opened and two men stepped in and came to attention in front of Martineau's desk, saluting smartly. He returned their salute and indicated that they could be at ease. Taking another long puff on his cigar and regarding them for a moment, he began to speak.

"Smythe, I've read your account regarding the activities earlier in the altercation with the Summers ladies. Just so that I'm clear, I wanted to ask a question or two if I may."

The soldier swallowed nervously. "Of course, sir."

Martineau picked up a paper from his desk, making a show of reading it carefully. "It says here that the Slayer had concealed herself in a pile of dirty clothing. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"As you made your sweep through the room, you were attacked by surprise, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

The Colonel smiled.

"Hand to hand combat with a Slayer. That must have been a bracing experience."

Smythe hesitated a moment before speaking.

"Actually sir, Stratford was engaged by the Slayer."

Martineau regarded the second soldier.

"I see. Please forgive me, Corporal Stratford. I should give credit where it is due. You fought a Slayer and survived. Admittedly you got your arse kicked, but you still have your head. That is saying something, is it not?"

Stratford smiled slightly despite himself. Martineau caught the look on his face and rose, putting his hands flat on the desk and leaning close to him.

"Are you smiling at the fact that you lost a fight, soldier?"

The Corporal's face and body stiffened at the sudden change in atmosphere.

"No, sir."

"Good. I'd hate to think I had some namby pamby who felt good about simply surviving. He who isn't willing to pay the ultimate price doesn't belong in my squad. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine then. Now where was I? Oh yes....Smythe."

Martineau said the young man's name like an oath. The young warrior was too frightened to get a response out.

"Smythe, if you weren't fighting the Slayer, whom exactly did you fight?"

"I believe...it was her sister."

Martineau waited a beat, taking a contemplative puff on the cigar.

"Her sister. That would be Dawn Summers, yes?"

"Yes sir."

"If my files are correct, she's an eighteen year old human, no? Any special powers I'm not aware of?"

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Oh yes. This I have to hear."

"Sir, she was extremely agile and strong for a female. I wasn't expecting her attack, and she managed to strike before I could react. However, her attempt to disarm me failed since I was able to reach my knife and cut her in the leg. I was preparing to eliminate her when I was struck from behind."

Martineau's voice was feather soft.

"You do realize that this is the same girl who murdered Major Huddleston? Have you any idea what resources I've spent to eliminate her? One doesn't acquire many friends in my line of work, Smythe, but Huddleston was one. You had this...this..."

He slammed his fist on the desk.

"This CHILD in your sights, and she bested you! Cut her in the leg, did you? Well, how impressive! I want her fucking throat cut, you bloody pillock! Instead, I'm forced to listen to your feeble attempts to make excuses."

He turned to the now shaking Corporal.

"Stratford, you've always been a good boy in your three years with us. I understand your circumstances. Fighting a Slayer is no easy trick."

He hesitated.

"Unless, of course, you have a machine gun. That should alter things in your favor I should think. Instead, the Slayer and her little tart of a sister knocked you and this little poofter senseless and took your weapons. If I hadn't prepared for such things we might all be dead right now. Therefore I have no choice."

Stratford's eyes widened. "Sir, please-"

"No. No more begging or whining. For once in your lives act like men and accept your punishment with a shred of dignity."

He rose from his seat. "Everyone come with me."

They made the short journey from his office to the mess hall, where his squads were gathered. He began to speak in a firm tone, gesturing toward Smythe and Stratford.

"I'll make this short. These two men are guilty of dereliction of duty which resulted in near fatal consequences for the entire squad in which they serve. Therefore they are to be punished. Pay close attention."

He turned to Inge, indicating the two soldiers.

"You may feed on them."

Instantly Inge was upon Stratford's neck, nearly inhaling his essence. A few of his fellow soldiers--the younger ones--cried out in horror, but were held back by the veterans. Martineau's voice rang out over their shouts of protest.

"Any man who fails to do his duty will pay the price!"

Stratford was drained before the sentence was finished. Smythe had been struggling wildly, but Peter and Paul held him tightly as Inge descended hungrily upon the twice decorated SAS veteran.

Ten seconds later she stood next to her master, staring impassively at her audience. Two bloodless husks that had moments before been among the cream of the British Army lay at their feet. Martineau addressed them one more time.

"Failure will not be tolerated under my command. I expect that is understood. Dismissed."

He turned abruptly and marched out, followed by his band of demons.

**************************************************

Willow had barely managed to remember the proper incantation as they'd gone back "under," as it were. All three were again staring up at the ceiling with tightly closed eyes.

The mental and physical stress of the spell was taking its toll on all of them, but especially Xander. Buffy could handle the physical demands with ease, of course. On top of that, the most emotional portion of their enjoining spell had been something she'd been dealing with on her own for years. She felt slightly guilty for the sense of relief that gave her. Willow, for her part, was practically immune to the physical rigors because of her intense concentration and experience. Her problem had been getting around the enormity of what she'd already seen. Thankfully, Buffy was there to provide her with enough support to get through.

All three felt the equivalent of a sharp blow to the solar plexus, rendering Xander and Willow breathless for almost a full minute, Buffy for only a few seconds due to her strength and conditioning. Once all three felt sufficiently recovered Willow surprised them by speaking aloud in English.

"Open your eyes."

Her two best friends complied, and gasped at the sight before them.

Xander and Buffy were staring down at themselves from the ceiling. The Slayer spoke first in a quavering voice.

"W-Will....why am I looking at myself?"

"Our spirits have left our bodies. We're on an astral plane."

The two women saw Xander's body trembling below them and realized that he was too terrified to speak. He could feel Buffy squeezing his hand again, this time for comfort. The Slayer forced herself to speak in firm tones to calm him.

"Xand? Stay with us, ok?"

He finally found the strength the croak in a hoarse voice.

"Does an astral plane have a barf bag?"

Buffy smiled. "That's the Xander I needed to hear."

Willow squeezed his hand also.

"Xander, I wanted both of you to see this first. You just felt me squeezing your hand, right?"

"Yeah."

"That means our central nervous systems are still working. Messages can still be sent and received. Whatever you see and feel, your body is still in here. Just remember that as we do this. Once the spell is over we go right back into our physical world. Do you understand?"

"I'm not sure."

Buffy kicked in.

"I think Willow is telling you not to freak. Whatever happens, we're actually here in this room the whole time."

"Might be a little late to advise me on freak avoidance."

"Well then...just concentrate on us. We're right here with you, ok? Willow's not going to let anything bad happen to us."

"Exactly," Willow added. "What we're about to do will feel real, but it's not our bodies, it's our enjoined spirit. I need you to trust me. Otherwise, we won't get out of this room."

"Wills, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm scared shitless. On the other hand, I've been scared shitless with you two before and escaped with minor injuries. I'll deal."

This earned him another pair of hand squeezes as Willow took an audible breath.

"Here we go, then."

The room vanished. Buffy and Xander were unable to comment on what they were seeing now...because it was total darkness. Despite his assurances, Xander was on the edge of hysteria as he felt the sensation of wind whipping through his hair, like a Harley ride without a helmet. Buffy finally managed to speak one word as her eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light.

"Cool."

Xander's eyes widened. "Say what?"

"Xander, can't you see it?"

He squinted. "No. Slayer vision foils me again."

Willow spoke in a clear and controlled voice, slightly deeper than her normal pitch. Xander didn't have to see her to know that she was in full resolve face.

"Your eyes will adjust to the darkness in a moment and you'll see what Buffy does. Just relax. We have to fan out now."

"Fan out? Are we searching for someth--"

Xander cried out as he felt Buffy disengaging from his left hand, leaving only Willow in his right.

"Buffy!!"

"It's ok, Xander! It's ok! I'm over here. Look at me."

He looked to his right and saw Buffy on Willow's opposite side, now forming a horizontal line. Her eyes locked with his and he felt her utilizing their connection to calm him. He nodded to her and looked back down, now for the first time able to see.

They were literally flying above the earth.

Xander was amazed as he gazed from left to right, able to make out ghostly images far below in the night. Tiny pinpricks of light were now appearing, some moving, some not. He correctly deduced that these indicated the city streets of downtown Orlando. More clearly visible were the blinking red lights situated at the top of the Suntrust building, the highest in the city. It struck him that they were well above this as well.

"I'm with you, Buff. Cool."

"Told you."

Willow now glanced at Xander.

"We're about to go much faster. Get ready."

"How would I go about doing that exactly?"

"Just hang on, ok?"

He nodded as the intensity of the wind resistance on his face increased. He had no clue how to measure airspeed, but the lights he'd been gazing upon were no more than a memory now. Buffy again had the advantage of superior vision. What was a blur to Xander was clearer to her. Clearly they were flying with incredible speed. Xander spoke in a desperate attempt to remain calm.

"I don't know how Superman does it. Takes a lot out of a guy."

Buffy was about to respond with a girl power comeback when she noticed a defined line of lights far below, followed by yawning emptiness. With an effort she was able to make out tiny individual twinkling beams, but nothing compared to the long string of headlights that had dotted the interstate. With little more than moonlight to help her, even she couldn't make out much more.

Suddenly they were descending rapidly. Xander was staring straight ahead, desperately trying to maintain an even tone.

"Uh, Will? As pilot of this astral plane you might want to pull up."

"I got it, Xander. Relax."

They leveled off gently and stopped abruptly, leaving them hovering only a few hundred feet from the surface. Now all three could clearly make out where they were beneath the crystal clear skies. Xander's mouth dropped open yet again, even though on some level he'd always know where Willow was headed.

Whitecaps occasionally appeared over gently rolling waves. A few ships could now be spotted on the dark horizon, making their way to parts unknown.

Buffy, Willow and Xander were floating above the Atlantic Ocean. For a moment even Willow had nothing to say, though she'd decided on this flight plan several hours ago. Finally she cleared her throat--which Xander found bizarre since their actual throats were roughly ninety miles to the west--and addressed them.

"Ok, here we go. It's time to hold on."

She closed her eyes and raised her voice

"Ehecatl....spiritus orbis circum. Hurakan. Hurakan."

They slowly began to move in a huge circle. Xander had the impression of a merry go round when they first started moving. This rather pleasant sensation rapidly became uncomfortable as their movements became more intense. Willow, now completely lost in the spell, repeated the ancient Aztec word over and over.

"Hurakan. Hurakan. Hurakan."

Xander had no concept of speed or distance from his vantage point, but he had the impression that they were moving several miles around in an enormous hurry. The waves below were moving more and more violently below him, like an enormous seething cauldron--which in a way it was.

His mind flashed back to a terrible James Bond space movie where the bad guy put him in that NASA thingy that tested resilience to G forces. He trusted Willow implicitly to know how much he could take, but the pressure was increasing as the circular motion grew faster and faster. For her part, her voice was growing louder as the noise around them increased.

"Hurakan! Ocius faste! Ocius faste!!"

Buffy was beginning to feel painfully short of breath, and she knew if she were feeling this way, Xander and Willow were in serious trouble. She screamed over the howling wind.

"Willow, how much longer!?"

Xander's could feel the violent tugging at the corners of his mouth at they moved slowly inward from the beginning of their loops turning in ever tighter arcs. Willow was screaming now as thunder boomed above.

"Hang on!! Just a little more!!"

"Willow, you guys can't handle this!!"

The Wicca merely resumed the chant.

"Ocius faste!! OCIUS FASTE!!!"

To the naked eye the core of the Scooby Gang's movements were nothing more than a blur. Xander was on the edge of blacking out, trying desperately to hold on to consciousness. He knew that Willow could not be far behind, yet she was chanting ever faster.

"OCIUSFASTEOCIUSFASTEOCIUSFASTEOCIUSFASTE!!!"

Xander was out and Buffy was close to her limit when, in a supreme effort, Willow got the last word out.

"OCULUS!!!"

Instantly they stilled over a calm sea. Buffy, feeling supremely dizzy, looked to her left in worry. Xander's head was slumped down, pointing toward the water. Willow's face matched the color of her hair, showing the strain.

But she was awake and moving her lips silently. Therefore the Slayer used the triage system.

"Xander!! Xander!!"

He raised his head weakly, then began to slump forward again.

"Oh no, you don't! Xander, look at me! Xander!!"

Finally he mumbled, "Please stop screaming. I have a headache."

"Are you ok?"

He looked toward Buffy and was about to speak when his eyes widened.

"No."

"Ok, just hang on Xand. We'll get some help when we get back and--"

"Buffy. Look."

He nodded over her shoulder.

She turned and gasped.

Huge, angry waves were crashing violently into one another as the ocean was buffeted by powerful gusts. Rain was literally falling sideways, pelting the simmering waters. Lightning blazed across the sky, briefly illuminating the scene in its horrific entirety. Buffy was whispering, but somehow Xander heard her anyway.

"Oh my God. What did we do?"

Xander couldn't think of a word to say, muted by the enormity of it all. Suddenly he was struck by a thought.

"Why are we dry?"

"Huh?"

"We're dry."

Willow spoke softly in response.

"We're in the eye."

Xander leaned toward her in concern.

"Wills, are you ok?"

She shrugged.

"Sorry. I was gone there for a second. I was doing a protection spell for the coastal areas and shipping. It might give them a little bit of cover from the winds, but there are no guarantees."

No one responded as they gazed out at the potential carnage they had wrought for a full minute, still hovering over the Atlantic. Finally Willow closed her eyes and spoke one word.

"Restituo."

They were immediately returned to their bodies in Xander's room. Their heads lowered and all three fell to their backs simultaneously, drenched palms now finally separated.

************************************************

***********************************************

Faith turned off the car radio with a stunned look on her face.

"Holy shit. She did it. She actually did it."

They had been presented with little trouble at the station. Faith had indeed served as a marvelous distraction as Spike rendered the cop unconscious as gently as he could. The trunk of their Mustang was now loaded with the necessary materials to smoke out the Security Council.

Once they heard the broadcast, however, any thoughts of accomplishment and celebration were wiped from their minds. Angel looked toward Faith.

"We need to step on it. We're on a timetable now."

"Oh, so now you want me to speed up? Make up your mind."

Angel just looked straight ahead. Faith took a deep breath and floored the accelerator.

- End Chapter Twenty-Four _