The Future Is What We Make

A/N ~ ~ represents internal dialogue
Chapter 3

Mikey, for some unfathomable reason had become fascinated by Spike, to to his father's chagrin and Willow and Oz's secret amusement.

The first inkling Spike became aware of his tiny shadow was sitting in the kitchen, drinking his dinner. He kept feeling an oddly disturbing sensation that someone was watching him, but when looked up, there was no one around.

His eyes narrowed as he began listen, I got ya now, ya lil'l bugger, he thought viciously. He could hear someone breathing and their racing heartbeat. Silently he rose from hisir air and began stalking, tracing the racing heartbeat to a small cupboard just under the counter.

Just as he had reached the cupboard, it blew open and a small figure blurred past him, knocking him off his feet in surprise. Lying on the floor staring at the ceiling, he could still hear the wailing coming from the small creature and the rapidly disappearing footsteps.

"Well, that was different," he said aloud, blinking from his position on the floor. He hadn't gotten a good look at his pint-sized assailant all he knew was it had dark hair.

It wasn't until Angel asked (ordered) him to greet some of the former Sunnydalers that he was aware of the identity of his admirer.

Pacing back and forth, expounding on the rules, he grimaced, of the hotel he gradually became aware that he had less than their full attention and he could even hear snickering coming from some of them! Snarling, he was about to erupt in gameface the piss out of 'em, when he saw their attention was directed at something behind him. Whirling around he saw the whelp's kid looking up at him with a fierce scowl on his face. Puzzled he looked around for the boy's minders before turning his attention back to the kid.

"Wot are you looking at, ya little git...kid," he demanded, surprised to see the boy still scowling at him and he ain't so much as touched the bloody kid, he thought in indignantly.

"Oi, 'oo ya callin' a git, ya dam anchor," Mikey said in a not so passable English accent. His tiny thumbs hooked in his pants as he tried his fiercest sneer on a shocked Spike.

At this, everyone in the lobby fell to the floor, laughing hysterically.

"Bloody anchor/wankers," both Spike and Mikey muttered in extreme disgust, looking at the laughing people and demons.

Spike arched a brow as he bent a look at the boy, who tried to arching his brow but had to settled for moving it up with his hand. Spike's lips twitched before he firmly controlled it.

Unfortunately for Mikey, Xander had been looking for him and had heard what he said. He descended on the boy and took him to his room. Fiercely lecturing the tiny tot about their previous discussion on appropriate words. They could hear Mikey's protesting wail, "But I wanna be like Spike."

And despite everything Xander tried to do to keep them apart, if anyone was looking for Mikey all they had to do was find Spike. While Spike discovered to his secret amusement that it was fun to have the little tyke following him around. 'Cause he had the opportunity to pound on a couple of demons that thought he had become a big softy with the boy. It was fun fighting, getting all that pent up energy out and especially hearing Mikey cheering him on from his perch within the walls of the Hyperion.

The only thing that did disturb him him though was the boy's recap of life in Sunnydale. And for the first time, he found himself actually agreeing with the cheerleader, the Slayer had abandoned her duties.

Xander, becoming somewhat resigned to the fact that he couldn't pry Mikey from Spike's side, especially seeing the hero worshiping look in his son's eyes. His only consolation was hearing Spike addressed as Spikey throughout the hotel.

Of course, Joce became quite jealous that Mikey had a vampire but she didn't. Eyeing Angel speculatively one night she came to a satisfying decision, she would talk to him.

* * *

Angel was sitting in his office, minding his own business-- finally enjoying a day of relative peace and quiet and reading the newspaper when he became aware of someone watching him. Slowly lowering the paper with trepidation, he saw with some surprise that it was Xander's daughter watching him with a frown on her face peering over the top of his desk.

Not be used to being around children, "Uhm something I can do for you, uhm...Jocelyn," he said awkwardly.

"My name's Joce," she said, narrowing her eyes at him, "Mikey got one, you know," she accused him.

Angel looked blank, having no idea what she was talking about, "Uhm, okay?" He was hoping that she would give him some clue about what Mikey had that had her so upset.

"I'm older and I should have had one first, right," she looked at him anxiously, biting her trembling lip.

Angel blinked, getting a glimmer of understanding, Xander’s other child had gotten something first, "Er, yes, but you really need to talk to your father about getting one then," he said uneasily, well aware how protective Xander, Willow and Oz were about the children.

She ignored his words and launched into her reasons why she should have one too.

Angel was left reeling under the barrage of words tumbling out of the girl's mouth. It was like being doubleteamed by Willow and Xander, he thought dazedly. He could only follow a quarter of what she was talking saying, finally deciding to agree to whatever she wanted so she would stop talking and looking like she was going to cry....she was making his head hurt.

"....you will won't you? It's only fair that I get one too," Joce pouted, looking hopefully at Angel.

Angel blindly agreed, having not the slightest clue about what she said or wanted, but hearing her squeal of joy and being hugged made it all worth while as she ran excitedly out the door, shouting, "I got one now too, and he's older than yours, so there" presumably to Mikey. Yep, it was Mikey, listening to the child's outraged yell of fury, he would know that scream anywhere.

He looked up with a satisfied look on his face to see Wesley looking at him with a nonplused look on his face.

"Who says raising kids is hard," he smirked, "Joce came in here all upset and I fixed her little problem. Who da man, now?" Man, he was good, he thought cockily.

Wesley continued to look at him and his shocked expression changing into a slow smirk.

"What?!" Angel was slowly becoming uncomfortable with the growing smirk on Wesley's face.

"I say, you do realize what young Miss Jocelyn wanted, correct," We sai said, a muffled guffaw coming from him.

"Yeah, she wanted one of something," Angel frowned, "That Mikey has and I agreed to get her one," Angel said dismissively.

"Uhm, not quite," Wesley smirked, "What the young miss wanted was a vampire of her own, just like Mikey has Spike," Wesley said, watching the dawning horror in Angel's eyes.

"B...b..but there's only two vampi....ah crap," Angel said explosively, watching disagreeably as Wesley doubled over with laughter.

"You've just been claimed.....by a four year old," Wesley choked out, laughing hysterically before staggering off to spread the thrilling news. Leaving Angel to bang his head repeatedly on the desk, the Harris family were going to drive him mad.

Later that afternoon, Xander stopped by Angel's office, casually leaning against the doorjab. Normally he wouldn't have dreamed of seeking out Deadboy, but this was too good to resist.

"So, Deadboy, am I supposed to be welcoming you to the family or what? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, I always pictured my son-in-law to be a whole lot younger and a lot aliver," he smirked before laughing at the flummoxed look on Angel's face.

Waving his hand dismissively at Angel's stammering apologies, "Hey don't get all worked up about it, Deadboy, she's managed to get all of us at one time or another into agreeing or giving her what she wants. Next time, check with me, Willow or Oz before agreeing to anything the little devil wants, 'k?"

"No problems with that," Angel said feelingly. He smiled ruefully at Xander, "It was like both you and Willow in babble mode. She backtracked, doubleback, went sideways, upside down and the next thing I knew I was agreeing that I belong to her," he said smiling in remembrance of the crazy one-sided conversation.

"Yeah, she can get like that, but don't let her con you again," Xander said smiling.

"You mean she does that deliberately," Angel said in disbelief, his eyes widening at the cleverness of the tiny girl.

"Yep, as near as we can figure out," Xander nodded soberly, a slight twitching of his lips, "But if it's any consolation she only does that when she really wants something, so you should be flattered. She was just jealous of Mikey and Spike," he shrugged.

"Uhm you don't have a problem with your son being friends with a demon," Angel regarded him curiously.

Xander looked at him unsmilingly, his mood turning grim, "Well, if he tries anything, he's dust." Turning, he left the office.

Angel to regarded the open door thoughtfully, the boy had changed considerably. He began thinking of how the arriving people greeted each other, specifically Willow, Oz and Xander.

What he found interesting was several things: Xander was always greeted as Xan as if it was a title, then addressed then after as Xander; Willow on the otherd wad was greeted as Witch, then called by her name; similarly, Oz was simply address as Wolf for obvious reasons, then called Oz.

Wesley and Cordy had already told him how Joyce was simply addressed as My Lady. Very rarely did anyone say her name other than Willow, Xander and Oz. He set this odd puzzle aside for further examination later, forced to contend with another problem: Joyce.


* * *

Joyce's body slowly succumbed to the poison raging through her system. She reclined in the bed, carefully marshaling her strength, trying not to cry out in pain as the poison targeted portions of her body. She smilingly recalled greeting each of the new arrivals. She had to admonished several of them for crying, reminding them of happier times and triumphant battles. She was glad that she had had them smiling and laughing despite their tears. It made her feel good, gave her additional strength.

She had waited almost too long before finally calling Willow to her; and despite the tears rolling down her face, Willow complied and went to find Xander.

She smiled through her sorrow, watching Xander in the middle of their people, rejoicing to see a brief smile flicker across his face on more than one occasion.

"Xander," she called quietly, watching as Xander excused himself from the group with a smile and joke, "Mama asked for the White Blade," she said shakily, seeing his face pale and tighten, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

Xander took a deep steadying breath, they had known this day would come, "Have you found Oz yet," he asked calmly in spite of his stricken eyes.

Willow shook her head, "You were the first I saw," she said softly.

"Find him and have him meet us in her room, I'll let the others know," he said steadily. They regarded each other for a moment, each deriving comfort and strength from the other before they departed for their onerous duties.

Xander went back to the group, who had been watching him intently. They knew something was wrong. He quietly informed them of Joyce's decision and ignoring the paling faces, he asked them to locate the others. One last thing to do, steeling himself, he headed for Angel's office while the others dispersed to spread the news.

Arriving at Angel's office and seeing who were there he said, "Angel, Buffy may I have a word with you." He was quietly composed.

Angel's eyes narrowed on him, something was wrong. His head cocked to the side, it sounded like wails were coming from outside the office. He exchanged puzzled looks with Spike.

"Sure, come in," Angel said, glancing around at his core group, "Is this private conversation or...."

Xander interrupted, "No, this concerns them too." Taking a deep breath, "Buffy, your mother will be dead by morning," he said softly. While he still hated her guts and the way she had avoided Joyce, she was still Joyce's daughter and deserved at least a smidgen of compassion. She had no idea what she had lost in running, but they: Willow, Oz and he and a whole bunch more of kids like them knew how lucky she had had it with Joyce as a mother, he thought, remembering his uncaring parents. Joyce became the mother that they love starved children wished they had and in return they had showered her with all their affection.

"What do you mean she'll be dead by morning," Buffy demanded, startled. She began to panic, she needed more time! "How do you know? You're not a doctor, so how can you tell," she said getting up angrily, shaking off Wesley restraining hand.

Angel regarded her quietly and explained about Tor'kn demon, what it did to Joyce and what the fatal consequences were as Xander stood expressionlessly in the doorway. She wanted to scream her protests that her mother couldn’t die and knew it was futile by the set look in Xander's eyes.

Xander regarded her distantly, "Do you wish to be there to say goodbye or not? Your choice," and with that he turned away, leaving her stunned.

Cordy blinked back tears as she got up quietly and brushed by the shaken Buffy, followed in turn by the others, then slowly followed by a shocked Buffy.

As they made their way through the lobby, they could see the Sunnydalers filing silently up the stairs to Joyce's room. There was a small crowd at the entrance as the regular Hyperions tried to see what was going on in the room.

Angel made his way to the congested doorway, trying to see in, forcibly stopping Buffy from forcing her way through the crowd. As the people felt the angry shoves, they turned around with cold looks of hostility that quickly disappeared as they saw Angel and crew standing there. Murmuring to one another, they shifted to allow them passage, tapping the people in front who in turned stepped aside grudgingly until they came to the front of the half-circle before Joyce's bed.

Angel and Spike sniffed the air lightly, a strange scent teasing them.

Buffy gasped to see the wasted woman resting there and her eyes filled with tears as she threw herself at the bed, clutching at withered claw-like hand, "Momma, I'm so sorry," she began crying brokenly. She cried for so many days wasted, so many things left unsaid, and now all she could do was say she was ‘Sorry’, leaving the rest unspoken.

She had tried to work up the courage to face her mother. Each time she was admitted to the room her courage would falter beneath her mother's stern eyes, and an uncomfortable silence would descend upon the room before she would flee. Four times, she tried and four times she had failed. She could see in her mother's eyes that she was waiting for something from her but the words just wouldn't come out. She would run to her room and hide, ashamed of herself. But by the fifth time, she knew she had to summon the courage, she was the Slayer, the Chosen One and she couldn't even admit that she was wrong!

Laughing bitterly through her tears, some Chosen One! The PTB must be kicking themselves for choosing HER! She had turned over in her bed, looking up at the small crack in the ceiling through blurred eyes. Just like my life, one tiny crack, one small blow and I'll shatter into a million pieces, as bitter tears slid down her face. She had to face her mother and if to no one else, she had to apologize.

And each succeeding day after she had sworn that this....this would be the day, and each time her courage had deserted her. This was her mother and she knew.....she KNEW that her mother still loved her, would always love her. But she also knew that if she didn't acknowledge her mistakes, how wrong she had been, if she did not at least make the attempt, there would be no forgiveness from her mother, not now.....not ever. So she kept trying, hoping and praying that this time she would not falter. And now it was too late!

She felt a fragile hand touch her head, stroking it as she remembered all the times she had run to her mother in tears, throwing herself in her mother's arms. Knowing that within those arms, nothing could hurt her or harm her--- in those arms, she would always be safe, secure and loved.

She raised her head slowly, tears running unchecked down her face, hoping for understanding, hoping for forgiveness, for love. She trembled at what she saw in her mother's sunken eyes: Bitter Love.

"All you needed to do was admit you were wrong, Buffy. But you still can't do that ,can you," was the weak whisper that she had to lean forward to hear. Seeing the condemnation and weary love in her mother's eyes. She bit her lip, swallowing convulsively as Joyce searched her eyes until she dropped them in abject shame, unable to bear the disappointed look in her mother's eyes any longer.

"I have never stopped loving you Buffy, but you have disappointed me almost beyond what my love can bear," came the tired whisper. And Joyce deliberately, despite the agony it caused her, turned her face away---ignoring Buffy's faint, "Mom?"

"Willow," she said calmly, she had said her goodbyes to the watching people, her family.

Willow approached the side of the bed, gesturing to Angel to move the distraught Buffy.

When he went to move her, he finally realized what he smelled: Poison! His eyes flashed to Xander's unreadable expression, flickering to Willow's composed face. As he moved Buffy, he glanced around at the motionless Sunnydalers, they all had the same look of having faced this nt tnt to many times, offering their loved ones the only respite they could from pain and suffering: Death.

He gently pushed the stricken Buffy into Wesley's arms before he deliberately stood at Xander's side, answering the unspoken question in the boy's ancient eyes with a slight nod.....meeting Oz and Willow's gaze firmly, seeing understanding in their eyes.

Willow sat beside the bed, gently helping Joyce drain the cup, her eyes full of regret and sadness.

Joyce smiled weakly, "Don't look so sad, I've had a wonderful life. Beautiful children I'm proud of and a wonderful family. I'm just sorry....," her words trailed off with a sigh as the poison worked it's painless duty.

There was a quivering tension filling the air as Buffy seemed to finally realize that her mother was gone and began sobbing in a wild paroxysm of grief. Casting her a cold look of disquiet, the people gently filed out, heading for the back of the hotel.

Xander sighed and with quiet reverence picked up Joyce's body and carried it outside into the open space in the back of the hotel that they had already prepared for this occasion. Placing her body gently on the byre, Xander stepped back as men and women, with makeshift torches, formed a circle around the byre.

Joce and Mikey pressed tightly to their father's legs, no matter how fun it was playing with Spike and being with Angel, they wanted to be with their father NOW!

Oz handed Benny to Xander and stepping forward he began to speak, his voice resonant in the hushed silence......

//That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.//

He stepped back and Jonathan took his place.....

//He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red///

Cordy and the others exchanged quiet looks as they witnessed the poignant ceremonial way the Sunnydalers mourned the dead woman that had meant so much to them.

Jonathan stepped back and this time Larry stepped forward and began to speak, his voice almost echoing in the eerie silence, as if even nature grieved for her....

//This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day//

Buffy averted her eyes, tears still falling down her face. But beneath the grief, her sorrow, rage lurked. A rage fueled by guilt.

She glared at the Sunnydalers, it was their fault. It had to be! They should have protected her mother better or....or...or something. It wasn't fair that just when she was about to talk to her mother, she died. It was all their fault, she assured herself firmly, rejecting the small voice inside that said she shouldn't have abandoned her duties. It wasn't HER fault for aban...that she had to leaving, Angel needed her. She hadn't know what would happen. Firmly she squashed the voice that said, 'You didn't need to know, you should have stayed.'

She knew they blamed her, but she wasn't wrong, was she? Of course not, she assured herself hastily, pushing back the unwanted voice that insisted she WAS wrong.

Doyle cast a look at the shaken Cordy and gently pulled her to him, allowing her to lean on him for comfort and support.

Slowly, one by one they lit the byre, with Willow casting a minor spell so that they did not smell her burning. They watched with set faces as they lost their mother, watching as the body was consumed by the fire as she was finally released. And they stayed there long into the night, as the fire burned.


Buffy had slipped away from the ceremony, she saw the hostile looks directed at her, but it wasn't my fault, she wanted to scream at the accusing eyes.

Angel was hurt, she thought to herself.

~He's a vampire, the voice insisted~

He needed me, she argued silently.

~He did not need a Slayer, it argued back~

But I love him, was her response as she began to shake.

~You are the Slayer, was the cold response~

He loves me, she argued back.

~You are a SLAYER, was the final thunderous condemnation~

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She was screaming at the accusing voice, "It wasn't my fault!" Her heart was pounding furiously.

~Then whose fault was it?~

"Not mine," Buffy cried, sinking to her knees, "Not mine," she said again, holding her head, "NOT MINE!"

~Then who's fault was it? YOU are the Slayer~

Buffy looked around desperately, "It was Xander's fault! If I hadn't known about Angel's Soul Restoration spell, I would have kill Angelus," she claimed wildly. "Yes, Xander's the one to blame for all of this, for Acathla opening!" She shouted down the screaming denial within her, pushing it away. If she gave in to that voice she knew she would be lost.

She had given up everything for him, for Angel, and she couldn’t go back! There was too in the past, to much pain to even think that she could turn back the clock, to try to reclaim what she once had. She had to continue this.....dance on the crumbling ledge. If she stopped to think, to question herself, she knew that she would fall into that black void where the demons lay in wait for her--- waiting, watching hungrily for her to slip. She had no other choice but to continue her mad dance.

Only in Angel's love could she, would she find redemption, justification for her actions. If he could love her, would love her again everything that she had done would be.....could be justified; but without his love....without his love to justify her existence, her actions then everything she had sacrificed would have been for nothing: mother-----gone, Giles----gone, friends-----gone, and she would be left alone with nothing to show, nothing to live for any longer.

And Buffy rose slowly to her feet, a look of grim resolve hardening her face. Angel would love her again, she swore. She just had to remind him of all the things that had initially drawn him to her. She determinedly ignored the protesting voice of the other Buffy, firmly locking her away; deep, deeper still where her voice could no longer be heard. Setting out to reclaim what was once hers: Angel's love.

The next following days proved eventful as Buffy began her one-woman campaign to regain Angel's love by becoming the golden Slayer he had once fell in love with. Pushing the fighters to new levels of skills, trying desperately to prove that she was still the same sun-kissed girl of yesterday.

* * *

Doyle cried out in pain, falling to his knees on the floor, with the intensity of his vision.

"Human, demons, sacrifice," he gasped out, moaning in pain, "Lots of demons guarding humans, Aiieeeeeee!" He writhed in pain from the vision.

Angel, Cordy and Wesley surrounded him, their eyes desperate and concerned. They hated seeing their friend like this, and this vision seemed to be particularly bad. But he was their connection to the Powers-That-Be and this was the price he paid for each vision.

Finally the painful vision seemed to be over as Cordy helped him over to one of the chairs in the lobby while Wesley raced for water and painkillers.

Doyle shook his head, still feeling the aftereffects of the vision, "Man that was a real big nasty one, nearly passed out from the pain," he said hoarsely, his face white as he shook in the aftermath of the vision.

"Shhh, just sit still," Cordy said softly, her eyes soft with fear. She flashed a helpless look at Angel that he returned.

"Hey now," Doyle said sitting up, glaring at them, he saw the LOOK and knew what it meant, "Look you, stop with treatin' me like I'm some frickin' baby. It's," his eyes widen as he grabbed Angel's arm. "This is bad, this is VERY bad! You gotta stop ‘em," he whispered, his eyes wide with horror as he recalled the other details of his vision.

"What did you see," Angel asked softly, urgently, catching Doyle's fear.

"These demons and half-demons are trying to raise WazMat," Doyle said in a hushed voice. Wesley stumbled and almost fell, even Angel felt the world spin for him: WazMat.

"WazMat?!" Buffy and Cordy chorused out and exchanged surprised looks before they flushed and looked away.

"Yes, WazMat is a god of a race of demons. He is reputed to harbor an unrelenting hatred of all creatures not of his chosen people," Willow's voice came from the top of the stairs. "Should he rise, he'll plunge the world further into chaos."

"You've heard of WazMat," Wesley said in astonishment, blinking at the young woman.

"We've came across his name a time or two in some of Mr. Giles old books," Andrew said softly from where he was standing. He had seen the man cry out from something and had wondered if he should help.

Angel blinked at the boy in surprise, not many could actually say that they had managed to sneak up on a vampire, yet this….boy constantly did so, he was so unobtrusive. Angel smirked, it drove Spike wild, having the boy creeping up on him all the time.

“So you know this demonGod, thingie,” Buffy said forcefully, “So let’s make with the killing it already.” She wanted to fight something, anything to get rid of the rage inside. Maybe this would be her chance to show Angel that she was still the girl he had fell in love with.

“We never got that far,” Jonathan admitted, quietly followed by Xander and Oz, who was holding Bennett.

“Well then, what good are ya,” Buffy bit out, before closing her eyes---- she took a deep breath and relaxed. “Sorry about that, I’m just…well, a little stressed and all,” she apologized with a charming smile at them, that faded somewhat under their cool eyes. She gritted her teeth, those damn people of Xander’s were really working her last nerve! Not one of them, not even the children were willing to give her a chance. She saw how they always looked to Willow, Oz or Xander whenever she asked them to do something as if they needed their permission. She saw how grudgingly they did anything for her, but for the Sunnydale Trio they would eagerly leap to do whatever THEY asked. And in some tiny portion on her soul, she actually envied the Trio, they had every thing that she had so casually threw away: THEY had the respect that she wanted……THEY had the love she craved….THEY had loyalty towards one another. She could even see the respect Angel extended to Xander, which was enough to make her introspective for a brief moment. She glanced critically at Willow and Xander, what was it about them that made people loyal to them?

Willow, she could halfway understand especially if she had grown a little in her magic, but Xander, no way! He was still the helpless, dorky guy from four years ago, that constantly needed her to save his ass. Constantly joking, acting like a total goof…..he hadn’t changed and he never would!

She turned her attention back to the conversation, to hear Xander offer to take a couple of people over there for reconnaissance. She sneered, still the same scared little goofball.

“Reconnaissance?! We need to go over there kick ass and we will NOT be taking names,” Buffy exclaimed, looking around at her fighters, who immediately agreed with her. They had had it with the peace and quiet, they wanted action!

“No,” Angel said sharply, “Xander’s right, we need to know what we are up agains and how many.”

Xander looked im iim in grateful surprise. Will wonders never cease? Deadboy agreed with him!

Buffy mouth gaped, did Angel just actually agree with Xander?!

“But Angel,” she began only to be cut off by him.

“Buffy, I said NO! We recon first, find out what’s against us and THEN we go in kicking ass. We can NOT go in there unprepared,” he said drawing himself erect, holding her eyes coolly until she at last dropped her gaze with a resentful mutter.

“Wes, Cordy, you two start finding out what WazMat’s weakness are. We need to get as much info as possible before we take this thing down; Buffy, you send out a couple of your best men for recon,” he said commandingly.

“What about us,” Willow asked softly, “If you remember, we used to do a mean research,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Angel’s face soften---remembering the research parties, the fun and the sense of camaraderie he had felt in being part of the that group. His eyes lifted to Xander’s seeing the regret and sorrow in those dark eyes, knowing those days were long over.

“Why don’t you, Andrew and Jonathan help then,” Angel said with a smile.

“And where will you be,” Buffy demanded to know.

“I need to go see the Oracles,” he answered, “Xander, you’re with me.”

Xander blinked, looking around for the other Xander, “Uhm, me,” he asked tentatively.

“You see another Xander around? Of course you! Seems like the Oracles want to meet you,” Angel said with a smirk watching the boy pale alarmingly.

“Why do they want to see Xander,” Buffy burst out. She had been here for four years and they had NEVER demanded to see her! She smoldered with jealousy, she was the Chosen One after all, he was just.....just Xander!

“Well while normally I wouldn't hesitate to instantly disagree with you, just on a matter of principle, Buffy, but this time I’m gonna join you out on that limb. Why do they want to see me? I’m nobody special,” Xander shrugged, he so really did NOT want to meet them. Nothing good ever came of dealing with Gods and the not-so Godly gods.

“Right, he’s a nobody,” Buffy said nodding, earning her a dark glare from Xander.

“You know, I'm seriously thinking about sawing your part of the limb off,” Xander told her frostily.

“They didn’t tell me what they wanted to see you about, they just indicated a need to see you,” Angel shrugged. He had long since given up questioning the Oracles, if they wanted to tell him something they would; if not, all his questioning did was make him pissed off.

“Alrighty guys, research mode is ON!” Willow spun around, red hair flying behind her like a banner with Andrew and Jonathan following in her wake to the room they had dubbed The Research Room.


Angel and Xander walked in silence to the Oracles. Angel again struck by the changes in the young man. Four years ago you probably would have had to kill him to shut him up, but now it’s as if silence had become second nature to him.

He watched surreptitiously how the boy seemed to….well, flow by his side, pacing along easily, matching him stride for stride. Struck anew by the elegance of the boy’s movements; how he seemed totally unaware of his surrounding yet at the same time, focused; how he seemed to be watching......Angel looked into dark amused eyes and the telltale smirk on the boy’s face. Had he been alive, he probably would have blushed and looked away in embarrassed at being caught staring----he settled for looking away.

“So Deadboy, you wanna tell me what this is all about, or do you want to continue looking at my neck,” Xander teased, surprised at how good it felt to tease the vampire, the rush he felt. Soat lat like sticking your head in an alligator’s mouth, you never knew when it might just decide you were dinner.

"I wasn't looking at your neck," Angel snapped, almost growling before he looked at the wicked grin on the boy's face, recalling a similar moment in their past.

Surprisingly enough, Xander found himself almost, he grimaced in disgust, admiring the way the Living Challenged guy dealt with all the different personalities in the hotel. He deserved a metal for just putting up with the slashing Cordy and Buffy. He grinned, the Slayer and the Slasher.

They reached the Post Office where Angel made the offering and they entered the domain of the Oracles. Xander saw a ghostly-white male and female dressed in….he peered closer….togas?!

And the next thing he knew, his mouth had opened, “Damn Deadboy! Are you sure they’re not dead?!” He clapped his hands over his mouth, totally aghast at his big mouth.

Angel took one look at the horror in Xander’s eyes and began to laugh. Each time he would look at him, he would break into fresh peals of laughter until finally, even Xander couldn't help but to chuckle at himself.

“If you could have just seen the look on your face,” Angel said laughingly, gasping for unneeded breath.

“Almost as bad as yours, huh,” Xander retorted, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.

“Good,” the female announced in pleased tones, “You two are finally beginning to get along.”

“You will need each other’s strength in the days ahead, moreso for Angel than for you, Alexander LaValle Harris,” the male stated coolly.

Angel and Xander exchanged puzzled looks before Angel tentatively asked why him and not Xander.

“Because of what he is. Alexander LaValle Harris is an anomaly in the universe. There are none nor will there ever be another like him. Long ago, the Light knew there would come a battle between itself and the Dark. Long before Slayers existed in the world, the Powers of Dark created demons, devils and other assorted creatures that feed off humankind and human misery. The Power of Light, seeing the humankind slaughtered, created the line of Slayers initially to protect humankind and then to curb the Chaos creatures,” the female began.

“However,” the male took up the recitation as they drew closer to Angel and Xander, circling them, “There is/was a third Power that existed before the Light, before the Dark and it was Neutral. This power is what ultimately created Alexander LaValle Harris. We are Oracles of the Light, we are bound by a geas to reveal the truth to you. Both the Light and Dark seeks to control you, to influence your decision,” the male stated, stroking pale fingers down Xander’s back.

Xander shuddered at the touch and swiftly turned to face the male and feeling the female touching him, he sidled away and backed into Angel. These damn people were too touchy-feelly and were seriously giving him a bad case of the wiggin.

Angel grasped the boy firmly, he could feel the shudders rippling through Xander and for half a second his eyes became liquid gold as he stared at the Oracles.

~“Good, it has begone. Already the boy seeks the protection of the vampire and the vampire seeks to protect the boy, the male thought with satisfaction to the female~

~“But will it be enough,” she questioned coolly, “Perhaps we should….,” she was halted by the his fierce response~

~“NO! You know we must not interfere or the choice will be tainted. It must be by their OWN choice,” he thought to her coldly.~

~“And if the boy does not choose? What will we do, we are still blind to him,” she thought coolly, a little angered by his tone.~

~“True, but if he chooses the Light, we can still win the battle,” the male stated grimly.~

~“But what use is winning the battle if we ultimately lose the war,” she pointed out equally grim.~

~“As long as the boy lives, the War will continue and we will still have a chance,” the male stated, moving back to the front of the temple.~

~So he must Choose the Light, exorcising all demons and assorted evils in the world,” she said ,moving gracefully back to her place.~

~“Exactly,” he said.~

Xander turned to Angel and looked uneasily at him, they could both sense/feel that a silent conversation was going on that clearly they weren’t invited.

“Xander,” came a low husky voice as swirling mist parted, revealing a very familiar welcomed face.

“Faith,” Xander gasped out, his face stunned before breaking out in the biggest grin Angel had every seen. He blinked at the joy that seem to light up the temple.

Xander charged to Faith to sweep her in his arms….and passed right through her.

“What the….,” he turned angrily to the Oracles, “What kinda bullshit is this,” he yelled at them.

“Forgive us,” they bowed slightly, “But we cannot make allowances, not even for you. She is dead, however, she still serves the Light so she was offered another chance to Serve in the Light.”

“Xan, it’s okay! I’m totally cool with this,” Faith said urgently to her.....husband? Do the dead still remained married? Whatever he was, Xander would always remain in her heart as her husband, besides it wasn’t as if she was gonna get hooked up with someone else here, she thought dryly.

“Xander, they offered me a chance and I took it; it was a chance to at least see you, to see Willow, Oz and the kids. I know I fucked things up, messed up our lives, but this gives me a chance to set things right,” Faith said quietly. “I have an opportunity to do some more good, to make up for what I tried to do. And…I…I just…,” Faith stammered to a halt, blinking uncertainly at him.

“Love, I forgave you already, you know that,” Xander whispered and caressed where her face would have been had she been solid, watching as she closed her eyes and leaned into his phantom caress as if she could still feel his touch.

“Alexander LaValle Harris, please attend us,” the female said crisply.

Angel blinked, the Oracles were being polite?

Xander forced himself to turn his attention back to the Oracles.

“Okay, I’ll bite what do you want me to do,” he said resignedly.

They merely looked amused, “Nothing,” they chorused.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’,” Angel asked suspiciously, the Oracles were not behaving like they did with him. They were notorious for their arrogant, condescending behavior. What really got him though was that whole Holier-Than-Tho….well, okay give them that last one but not anything else. They didn’t have any right to act like they were so superio…okay they were but they didn’t have to ACT like they were. For such supposedly higher powers, they were downright nasty to deal with.

“’Nothing’ means nothing,” the male smirked at him.

Faith interrupted angrily, before Xander could say something. She could tell he was getting ready to tell them off Oracles or not. She did a slight doubletake at a curious thing….Angel touched Xander on the back and with a quick look at him, Xander seemed to visibly calmed himself.

“Explain to them what you mean or they’ll have no problem walking out,” she warned the Oracles.

The male and female exchanged glances, secretly delighted.

~“He already looks to the vampire,” he thought to her~

“Agreed,” they chorused.

“The problem, Alexander LaValle Harris, is as we said to you earlier,you are an anomaly. By which we mean we can see nothing of your future, only of your past.

Angel was astonished, “You can’t see his future? Then how can you point him, us in the right direction?”

“We cannot, vampire. When the Powers began to War, Neutral somehow foresaw the day when a decision would need to be made. As best as we can divine, Neutral made this decision long before there were Slayers, before demons existed and even before the division of Light and Dark. The concept, the idea of Alexander LaValle Harris predates almost everything in existence, including ourselves."

“Alexander LaValle Harris is truly The Chosen One. The Slayers were ultimately created to protect humanity, allowing him to be born.”

“What!” Both Xander and Angel yelled in surprise.

“That is why first Buffy, then Kendra and finally Faith were drawn to the Hellmouth: to give you the chance to grow. However, equally the Dark were also drawn there as well, influencing your parents, attempting to twist you. The Slayers were there to provide a counterpoint, so to speak, to give you another viewpoint. Had they not been there, then it is possible that you would have ultimately Chosen the Dark without seeing what Light could offer.”

Angel looked in surprise at the dark hair girl, she was a Slayer? And had been married to Xander?

“Holy shit!” Xander exclaimed, his eyes wide in amazement. He exchanged disbelieving looks with Angel, silently questioning it the other was hearing the same thing he was.

“But why doesn't everyone know about the third Power,” Angel demanded.

“Because it was never necessary for Warriors of either side to know,” the female stated calmly.

“But why,” he demanded again. There had to be another reason.

The male sighed, “Vampire, we do not make the rules,” he said patronizingly.

Xander caught his tone and saw Angel’s eye’s harden.

“There’s no call to talk to him like that,” he heard himself say sharply, why in the hell am I sticking up for Deadboy, he thought confusedly feeling a warm sensation at the grateful yet surprised look Angel gave him.

“With this Chosen thingie,” Xander said slowly, “Do I get some special powers or something? ‘Cause superstrength would be, like, totally cool,” he was practically rubbing his hands with glee. SuperXander had a nice ring to it, he thought practically dancing with joy and it was with some disbelief that he heard them say ‘No’.

“No powers? How about even a little superhearing, cause I’m totally down with that,” he said desperately. He would be willing to accept any kinda type of super power!

Faith smiled, “Xander you’ve never needed all that. You’ve done fine all these years without,” she said gently.

“Yeah, but it would’ve been nice,” he muttered.

The Oracles consulted silently with each other ~“Should we tell him”, the male thought~

~“Not enough to influence his Choice, but enough to give him hope”, she thought back~

“Once you are mated, you will have access to your powers,” the male stated.

And at that Xander face fell with sadness, “Well I guess the fantasy was nice while it lasted. Since I don’t have any power and Faith’s dead,” he said gesturing sadly to her.

Faith bit her lip, she understood what the Oracles were saying and she wished she was still able to cry.

Angel understood, Faith wasn’t Xander’s mate!

The male said quietly, “Alexander, Faith was not your true mate.”

“But of course she was….I mean is, she is……I mean was my wife,” Xander stammered out.

“True. She taught you how to love, to open yourself fully to the concept that you wereableable of being loved and being in love with someone. She showed you how to accept love,” said the female gently.

“But I don’t want to love anyone else,” Xander insisted stubbornly. Faith was the one he loved and he was sticking with her! He glared at the Oracles, just let them try to make him fall in love with someone else. Ha! He’ll show them!

“But you’ll find someone else to love, Xander,” Faith said quietly, “I know you, you have the biggest heart in the world and with so much love to give. Despite everything you never lost your ability to love. Xander, your ability to love, it didn't die with me, it still lives on in you. It always puzzled me why no one had ever snatched you up years ago, but it was their loss and my gain.”

“But I want you,” Xander said desperately, he didn’t want anyone else!

“And you had me,” Faith said with a tender smile, “But love, I’m dead and you're still alive. You’ll find someone who will love you, who will guard your heart like the precious treasure it is. You’ll give that person a key to your heart, the heart that you hide behind thick walls, that only a few people possess. And you know that that person will never betray you and never hurt you,” Faith ended quietly.

Xander remained stubbornly silent, there was no way he was gonna fall in love with some other woman and replace Faith in his heart.

Faith recognized the mulish expression on Xander’s face and hoped that he wouldn’t be foolish enough to deny himself a second chance at happiness.

The Oracles decided to intervened in a situation that was rapidly becoming maudlin, “By the way, Vampire, you will need to do something about your Slayer. Her obsession with you must be checked before her rashness causes far reaching consequences. Your Slayer is the last in existence, there will be no more after her death and she may will be needed,” he said grimly.

“And you’ll need to cast a protective spell on your Seer,” said the female added.

“Why,” Angel asked suspiciously, he understood about Buffy but what was the problem with Doyle?

The male frowned slightly, “As the Dark increases in strength, our powers grow weaker. This allows the Dark to influence your Seer’s vision, such as the last one,” he said.

Angel glanced horrified at Xander before they bolted for the door.

“Damn it!” Angel said angrily, racing down the street.

“That fucking vision was a setup to get everyone out of the hotel,” Xander snarled angrily as he kept pace with Angel.

They ran down the streets, dodging demons and humans alike in their desperate need to get back to the hotel.


Meanwhile.......

Back at the hotel, Buffy spent ten minutes making sure Angel had truly left. Determined to prove her worth to Angel, she gathered up all the major fighters and announced her intentions to lead an assult on the wanna be demon god Whatchamacallit.

Pacing back and forth, “Look guys, I know Angel wanted a scouting party done first but I don’t think we have time for that. This may be the best chance to hit the Dark Powers where they would hurt the most,” she said eagerly, a broad smile on her face. This would show Angel just how much he needed her, especially when they come back victoriously, and her smile broaden into an infectious grin. Still hurting over her mother’s death and the unresolved conflict within herself, beating the living daylights out of something would be almost...a ……therapeutic exercise, she nodded to herself.

“Do we know where,” one demon asked tentatively. He recognized that martial gleam in her eyes and he sure as hell didn’t want it directed at him, he shuddered. Between her laser stare and Cordy’s razor tongue, a demon didn’t stand a chance around here, he thought morosely.

“And who will stay behind, if we all go,” asked a human fighter.

“Last question first,” Buffy said cheerfully, “We haven’t had a real attack in almost two years, which by the way we kicked ass, thank you very much! I'll leave 20 of the newest recruits with about 4 veterans to guard the place, which I think will be about 20 too many,” she laughed and they all joined in, remembering their last tangle. Boy, did they have fun that day, especially the demons outside the wards. They were going to finally get another chance to cut lose!

“And I’ll find out where the impending god raising will be, so start getting yourselves ready, cause when I get back, we are so outta here,” Buffy said and darted off.

She found Doyle lying on the couch in Angel’s office with a cold cloth resting on his forehead.

“Hey Doyle,” she said softly, “You okay?” For a brief moment she felt a twinge of conscience about what she was going to do. She comforted herself that they would all THANK her, thank them when they came back after killing the baddies. But what if you don’t kill them, a small voice whispered, that she resolutely ignored. They would win! she thought fiercely.

“Uh huh,” Doyle muttered wincing, man was his head killing him. “Whaddaya want Buffy?”

“Uhm Doyle,” Buffy whispered, she had caught his wince of pain, “Where were they performing the sacrifice, so I can send out the scouting party like Angel said,” she lied.

Doyle sighed giving her the information to the warehouse.

Buffy chewed her lips thoughtfully. They could do this, she thought carefully. Angel was always gone for at least 5-6 hours whenever he talked to the Oracles. They should be back long before he got back. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, on their faces when she announced, oh so casually, that they had already taken care of the situation, no problem.

She got up and went to the door, glancing back at wan looking Doyle, again feeling the twinge of conscience. But this was for a good cause, she argued silently, they’ll thank me when this is all done. With that, she left the office and selecting the recruits to guard certain key points of the hotel, she left the hotel with her men.

Outside, safely hidden by magic 90 mercenary soldiers waited with strained patience for the last fighter to leave the hotel, smirks twisting their faces. The Hyperion would be theirs by nightfall! They had been promised a home, the Hyperion if they could hold it. But as a safety precaution, the leader, decided to wait at least an additional few more minutes before they stormed the hotel, killing everything in sight.


Speech from Henry V "Band of Brothers"