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Get the Bastard	By : QueenB Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Willow/Xander Views: 5039 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Get the Bastard
- 1
Disclaimer: This belongs to the great and powerful Joss and the usual gang of idi…uh, geniuses
Feedback: Do your worst--it can’t compare to my worst ;)
Notes: Spoilers for BtVS season seven, episode “Conversations with Dead People.” This is a sequel to Inara Kenobi’s story “Oh My God, Xander’s Dead” at ff.net
Thoughts are in italics.

He was cold and getting colder.
That’s…I’m losing blood. Never…good thing, especially in this town.
Distantly he was aware of a pounding noise.
Must be my heartbeat…or... Shouldn’t it be getting…fainter?
He was too tired to care. He had been trying to…trying to do what? It was getting harder to think and he just wanted to sleep.
Good thing I’m…on the floor then. Makes sleeping…easier.
__________
“I told you I saw Xander. He was dead and trying to warn me about something.” Anya fumbled for the keys to the apartment. Thank goodness she had never gotten rid of them. There were days she had been tempted to throw them in the trash or mail them back to her chickenshit ex-fiancé as the final proof that they were over. But somehow she could never bring herself to do so.
Willow was reluctant to believe anything about a supposedly dead Xander contacting Anya. Hadn’t a dead Cassie who turned out to be something else contacted her? What that something else was she wasn’t certain only that it was evil and had tried to trick her into killing herself--as if she would ever have done that.
She’d tried calling both Dawn and Buffy on their phones only to receive no answer. That was deeply alarming but before she could go hunt them down, she had been practically attacked by a frantic Anya claiming that Xander was in some sort of trouble.
Now here the two of them were trying to get some response from Xander’s door. Finally, Anya opened it to reveal--
“Oh my god! Xander!” The brunette Scooby was lying twisted on the floor, a thick pool of blood oozing onto the carpet. Both women could see a blood-smeared phone lying near his outstretched arm. He’d probably been trying to call for help.
Willow leapt forward, her hands flung out to help her fallen friend. She tried pressing futilely at the wound on Xander’s throat. “Anya, get a towel from the kitchen and press it to his neck. I’m going to call the hospital.” The ex-demon stood indecisively for a moment and then sprinted for the kitchen.
Willow picked up the phone, trying not to cringe at the slickness under her fingers. “Hello? 911? We’ve got an injured person here. He’s losing a lot of blood. Please hurry! I don’t--I don’t think he’s got much time.”
She whispered this last part as Anya stumbled back with a thick towel in her hands. She pressed it hard over the pulsating wound and started yelling, “Xander! Xander! Please wake up! I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want us to get back together again. I tried being a vengeance demon again, I really did, but it wasn’t the same as before. I felt so sorry for myself and for all those women but I-I couldn’t bring myself to hurt those men. It just felt so wrong. I found myself telling the women to go back to those guys and talk to them! Can you believe that? That was just so stupid and wrong but I couldn’t seem to stop.”
The prone figure didn’t move but the redhead thought she saw his eyelids flutter slightly. “Keep talking to him, Anya. He needs to wake up; we need to get him conscious.”
Anya nodded and spoke again, tears running down her face. “I’m sorry I tried to curse you, Xander. That was really mean of me. I never meant for anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to die.” There was still no response and her temper snapped. “Dammit, Alexander Lavelle Harris, you look at me when I’m talking to you!”
“Anya.” The word was a bubbling croak and both women nearly stopped breathing when they heard it. “Don’t have…to shout. Dying not deaf.” Anya choked back a sob and Willow felt the insane urge to laugh. Even while he was dying, Xander couldn’t resist the urge to joke.
Relief was swiftly followed with vicious determination. He is not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it.
Willow lifted her hands and began chanting a healing spell to close up the wound. She felt the familiar hum of magic in her bones and knew her eyes had turned a complete black. Anya saw coruscating light swirl from her fingers towards his throat and lifted her own hand cautiously out of its path. She was hoping that Willow could fix her beloved Xander and didn’t care if she did use black magic to do it. For the first time, she understood why Willow had lost it when Tara died. She didn’t know what she’d do if Xander died, too.
The magic light died out and Anya lifted the towel. The edges of the wound had closed and the bleeding stopped, but Xander’s skin was still tinged a distressing blue and he had started to shiver violently. “Anya, get some blankets. He’s not bleeding anymore but he’s lost a lot of blood and he’ll need to be kept warm until the ambulance gets here.”
__________
In the ambulance, Willow leaned back and shut her eyes. Her clothes were sticky and getting stiff from where she’d knelt in Xander’s blood, but her mind wasn’t concerned with such things.
She’d had to get in the ambulance with Anya because the paramedics were simply baffled. It was clear that the dark-haired young man they were with had lost a lot of blood judging by what they’d seen in the apartment and on the two women with him. But the healing wound in his throat couldn’t have been the source of it. Willow wasn’t sure whether she should use a memory-removal spell to get rid of this nagging discrepancy or whether the typical blindness of Sunnydale residents would cause them to overlook it as they did so many injuries of this nature.
I won’t tell them anything…just that we found him like this. Maybe they’ll think a wild dog did it.
But she had no doubt what was responsible for her friend’s condition. She’d seen wounds like these too many times not to recognize what had happened.
He’d been bitten by a vampire. Had he been attacked outside and come back here? But then why was there no blood anywhere else, no blood trail leading from the front door? It could only mean that he had been assaulted inside his apartment. But a vampire couldn’t have gotten in unless he invited it and Xander was too smart for that so who…?
Anya wasn’t paying any attention to the redhead with her. Her eyes were fixed on the still, pale body lying in the ambulance.
He was bitten. Vampire bitten--I’d know those marks anywhere. But how could that be? Why was he bleeding and not drained? “Willow?”
The wiccan’s head jerked up. “What? Anya, what is it?”
“How did this happen? I mean, who do you think did this?”
One of the paramedics tending to Xander looked up. “Who? You think a person did this? Do you ladies want to call the police?”
“No! I mean, we don’t know who or what did this. He was like that when we found him.” She shot a silent glare at Anya. The woman really needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. Anya blinked at that angry look and then belatedly remembered they weren’t alone.
“Right. I didn’t mean who. I wasn’t thinking. Things have been kinda stressed between me and my ex since he ran off and left me at the altar. Plus I’ve been rebuilding my business since she…I mean, the last earthquake. You should see the place. Debris and broken merchandise lying around everywhere. I hope my insurance covers it because reconstruction’s going to be hell.”
Willow closed her eyes and tuned her out. She didn’t know if the ex-demon was trying to make her feel guilty about the Magic Box and she didn’t care. Running around in her mind beside the fear for her dearest friend was the thought that she had to contact Buffy. If her conclusion was true, then the Slayer wasn’t safe and neither was her sister.
Because it seemed that Spike’s chip was no longer an issue for him.
__________
Buffy walked slowly out of the cemetery. She couldn’t believe it. That vampire had been lying to her, hadn’t he? Maybe he had been talking about another Spike…yeah, right, like there were two with that name in this town. But Spike couldn’t have sired him; his chip would have prevented it. Unless it was no longer working…and how was she sure it was? She hadn’t exactly been keeping close tabs on him now that he was with Xander.
A sudden fear shot through her and she fumbled in her pants for her cellphone. Shit! It was missing. Where could it be? She knew that she’d taken it with her before she left the house. She carried it practically everywhere now. She wanted to be certain she could get in touch with Dawn at a moment’s notice.
She must have dropped it while fighting with Mr. Tae Kwon Do. Well, she wasn’t too far from home. She’d get there and call Xander from the house.
Buffy ran up to the house on Revello Street only to stop in dismay. There were no lights on and the front lawn was littered with glass. As she walked gingerly over the shards, she called towards the house, “Dawn? Dawn? Are you there? It’s Buffy.”
There was no answer and terror gripped her again. Why wasn’t her sister answering? Maybe she wasn’t home or maybe… Without thinking further, she kicked open the front door and leaped inside the house crouching in a fighting stance.
“All right, if there are any bad things in here, prepare to get your asses Slayer-kicked.” She listened carefully and for a moment heard nothing more than eerie silence. Then she heard it. There was a soft whimpering sound coming from the living room. She edged carefully towards it and saw a small figure huddled on the floor. “Dawn?”
The teenager lifted up a tear-stained face from her knees. “B-buffy? Is that you? I mean, really you?”
“Yeah. What happened? Are you hurt?” The girl sniffled and shook her head.
Buffy’s eyes widened. She could see a couple of deep scratches on her sister’s face and the room looked like a disaster area. The lighter furnishings were tossed about and she could see the remains of candles and books strewn across the floor. There was also a weird smell in the air, like sage and cinnamon and something else she couldn’t quite identify. Had Dawn been casting a spell?
She knelt on the floor beside her sister and hugged her around by the shoulders. “Dawn? Tell me what happened.”
Dawn stared at Buffy and the Slayer was taken aback by her sister’s look. She was sad and confused but underneath it all was an odd--fear? It looked like Dawn was afraid of her and she didn’t know why. “C’mon, Dawnie. Talk to me here. You’re starting to creep me out a little.”
“I-there was--there was something in the house, Buffy.”
“Something? What kind of something?”
Dawn shook her head as her brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. I didn’t really get a good look at it. First the appliances started going haywire. The radio was talking to me--”
“The radio was talking to you? Okay, having X-Files flashbacks here. What did it say?”
Dawn took a deep breath. “It said, ‘Dawn’ and it was in Mom’s voice.”
“You heard Mom? Dawn, are you sure? Why would Mom be talking to you?”
Dawn struggled to stand. “I don’t know, Buffy, I’m not a psychic. But it was Mom’s voice, I know it was. The microwave exploded, the other appliances went nuts and then…”
Her voice faltered and Buffy scrambled up, staring at her. “Then what?”
“Then I heard knockings all around the house. It was like Mom was trying to communicate but something wouldn’t let her. I saw her body on the couch and there was this dark, twisted ugly thing stretching over her. It was like it was trying to keep her from coming to me. Blood started dripping from the walls and it formed this message that said, ‘Mother’s milk is red’ or something like that and then a deep voice told me to get out of the house and I thought, ‘No way I’m being chased out of my own home by some poltergeist wannabe.’”
Buffy started pacing around. She was tired, emotionally wrung out, after that harrowing talk with that vampire in the cemetery and she wanted to put an end to Dawn’s rambling story. “Uh huh. And then?”
Dawn picked up a book that was lying on the floor. “I got one of Willow’s spell books and started an exorcism.”
Buffy frowned and looked at the spell in question. The book was a little the worse for wear but she could see the words being used. She didn’t know much about magic but this looked to be way out of Dawn’s league. Didn’t you need to be a registered priest or whatnot to cast a spell like this? “You cast this spell and then what happened?”
“Well, there’d been this huge wind and this roaring noise like whatever was in here was really mad and it scratched me a little but it’s nothing I couldn’t handle. Then I threw the herbs I had in a bowl,” pointing at the mess scattered on the floor, “and then it all stopped.”
“What stopped?” Buffy asked.
Dawn waved her hand at the wreckage around her. “The wind, the roaring, the stuff flying around the room…everything. It just died away. And then Mom showed up.”
“Mom? You mean her body again?”
“No. It was Mom. She looked really peaceful. She was glowing like an angel and dressed all in white and she said…” Dawn’s voice faltered as she recalled her mother’s warning and she stared at the blond in front of her.
“What? Dawn, what is it? If Mom spoke to you, it must have been really important. What did she say?”
Dawn looked at the floor. She couldn’t believe what her mother had said, not after everything Buffy had done for her. But what else was she to think? “She said…she said when the time came, you wouldn’t choose me.”
“Wh-what? She said--what did she mean by that? ‘When the time came?’ What time? Why wouldn’t I choose you? Dawn, that doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure it was Mom?”
Dawn wanted to yell at Buffy. Why wouldn’t she just take her word for it? All she needed to do was look around to see that something freaky had happened. This was the Hellmouth; why wouldn’t the dead come back? “Buffy, I know my Mom. It was her.”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe that she’d abandoned Dawn under any circumstances but right now it didn’t look as if the teenager would take assurances from her. She sat down wearily on the couch. “Did you try calling anybody?”
“I tried calling you but you never answered. Did you get into a fight with a demon or something?” Buffy sat upright as she remembered the conversation she’d had with that fledgling.
“I was fighting, all right. Must have lost my cell during it. This guy had taken two years of tae kwon do and he was really good.”
Dawn blinked. “Two years? How did you know that?”
Buffy shrugged. “He was one of my old classmates. He recognized me and started chatting. Turned out he didn’t really know what had happened to him. I explained he was a vampire, somebody had sired him, blah blah blah.” She got up suddenly as she remembered her original aim in rushing home. “Dawn, is the phone still working?”
Dawn looked around on the floor. “I-I think so, if it wasn’t busted when everything else was being thrown around the room. Why? What’s up?”
“I have to call Xander. He may be in trouble.”
Dawn started searching among the objects littering the floor. “What kind of trouble? Anyway, Spike’s with him. He can protect him against any demons.”
“That’s what I’m worried about, Dawn. The vamp I fought tonight told me Spike had sired him.”
Dawn straightened abruptly, gaping at Buffy. “Spike? Spike sired another vampire? How could he? I thought his chip was still working.”
“So did I. But this vampire didn’t have any reason to lie. I mentioned Spike’s name as one of the resident vamps and he said Spike was his sire.”
“But if that’s true, then Spike’s chip isn’t working and--”
“And he’s going back to killing people. So I need to talk to Xander and warn him.”
“Duh. Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted that Xander take Spike into his apartment.”
Buffy didn’t respond to the muttered statement. She’d found the phone and tapped in Xander’s number on speed dial. She let the phone ring for over a minute but there was no answer. “Dawn, where’s Willow? Did she come back to the house?”
Dawn shook her head. “She wasn’t here when I got home and I never got a call from her. She said she was researching at the school library but she should have gotten home before now. Try calling her.”
This time the phone rang only once before there was an answer. “Hello? Buffy, is that you?”
Buffy was worried when she heard the wiccan’s voice. Willow sounded strange; her voice was choked as if she had been crying and she could hear Anya’s voice in the background. “Willow? Is that Buffy? Tell her what Xander said. She needs to find that shit and dust his sorry ass!”
“Willow, what is it? What’s Anya saying?”
“Buffy, it’s Xander. Anya and I were visited tonight…she said she saw his ghost or some apparition and it warned her…we got to his apartment and it was almost too late. But we stopped the bleeding and we’re here at the hospital…”
“Hospital?” An icy numbness came over Buffy along with a strong sense of déjà vu. Hospitals. She’d always hated them. Some of the worst moments in her life revolved around hospitals. Her brief flirtation with an insane asylum, illness with killer flu, her mother’s tumor, Willow’s head injury after being attacked by vampire minions…she knew this was going to be bad.
“Give me that!” Anya snapped and wrested the phone out of Willow’s grip. She was running on anger and sheer venom and had no trouble sniping at Buffy. “Xander was lying in a pool of his own blood. Willow healed him with magic but we have to rush him to the hospital for a transfusion. He came to just a short while ago. He says Spike bit him.”
“Is he sure?” Buffy probed.
“No, of course not! It was just some other vampire with too much peroxide, a fake Cockney accent and a scar in his eyebrow. That was sarcasm, by the way. Of course it was Spike! Who else could it have been? His chip’s not working and he attacked Xander because you insisted he take Spike into his home and Xander never could say no to you. This is all your fault!” Anya broke off and started crying, deep tearing jags that Dawn could hear coming over the phone.
“Anya, I-I don’t know what to say. I honestly thought Spike was harmless…”
“Harmless!? After he attacked both of us in the Bronze? If I had my powers, I’d rip him apart myself. He’s back to his old ways and I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”
“The only thing I can do. I’m going to kill that asshole,” Buffy replied coldly. Gone was the tiredness she’d felt only moments ago.
This is what I get for being weak. Angelus nearly got Willow killed before I could summon up the nerve to send him to hell. Now Spike nearly kills Xander…and he has a soul. Or maybe that was all a stupid lie. Why the hell did I believe him, anyway? It’s not like he gave me any proof. I should never have listened to him.
The blond handed the phone back to her sister. Dawn watched her sister uncertainly. “Buffy, what’s going on? You’re going to kill Spike?”
Her sister nodded as she began getting weapons out of the trunk. She didn’t kid herself. If Spike had gone back to his old ways and started feeding, he’d be strong from the new blood--strong and violent. She was going to have to use every technique at her command to take him down.
“I have to, Dawn. He attacked Xander and put him in the hospital.”
Dawn’s pale face seemed to turn even whiter. “Xander? Is he all right?”
Buffy stuck a few stakes into her coat lining. “I think he’s going to recover. They gave him a transfusion. But I have to find Spike before he loads up on more human Happy Meals. You just stay put until I get back.”
“But what about me? He’s got the invitation to this place; he can come in whenever he likes.”
Buffy halted; she hadn’t thought about that. “Okay, tell Willow and Anya to get back to Anya’s place. She’s never invited Spike there so he shouldn’t be able to get in. I’ll take you there myself. You can stay with the others until this is all over.”
Dawn pressed the phone to her ear. “Anya? Buffy says you and Willow should get back to your place. Spike can’t get in there and she wants me to stay with you until she nails him.”
Anya’s voice came back, “No, I don’t want to leave Xander. Hospitals are public places. Spike might decide to finish what he’s started.”
Dawn covered the receiver and spoke to her sister. “Anya doesn’t want to leave Xander. She’s afraid Spike will try to hurt him again.”
Buffy reconsidered and took back the phone. “Well, you’re just human now so you’re vulnerable. Let Willow stay with Xander. She can protect him with magic and you head back home.”
“What if I run into Spike along the way? Then what?” Buffy cursed and pinched her nose while she tried to figure this out. They were too vulnerable this way, scattered as they were. She needed to protect Dawn AND her friends.
“Okay. I’ll bring Dawn with me to the hospital. We’ll bring the ingredients for the de-invite spell so no vampire can get into Xander’s hospital room. Then all us girls will head back to your place and Willow can cast a locator spell so we can find the lost boy from hell. Sound like a plan?”
There was no answer and Buffy could hear Anya furiously whispering with Willow on the other end of the line. “Great. We’ll sit tight. Get your ass over here pronto, Buffy. I know a few good spells we can use to help nail that peroxide pest to the wall. Oh, and Willow says to bring Spike’s duster. She thinks it’s lying on the bottom of the closet.”
“Why Spike’s duster?”
“She can use it to help track him. Just get over here quickly, all right?” The phone clicked off and Buffy began gathering the materials she needed. She curtly told Dawn to pack a few things and without another word both girls left the Summers home.
__________
Buffy had thought there would be a big production about this. The de-invite spell on Xander’s room was simple enough; she’d seen Willow use it before. A few herbs burning in a bowl, some softly chanted words and no vamp could enter.
The locator spell was a little more sobering but no more dramatic. Willow had peeled off her jacket, the sleeves soaked with Xander’s blood, and lain it on the floor. She had stated in an eerily calm voice that the blood of the victim could be used to track the assailant. It was the same spell she had used to find Warren after he’d murdered Tara.
Buffy couldn’t restrain an odd shiver when she mentioned that. Willow had spoken about Tara since she’d gotten back from England and even visited her grave once or twice. She had thought the redhead had come to terms with the circumstances of her girlfriend’s death even if she still grieved over it. But this was the first time she had mentioned Warren since her return to Sunnydale and the Slayer wasn’t certain she liked the chilly detachment of the statement.
But there’s really not much difference in her mind, is there? Warren killed Tara so she went after him and killed him. Spike tried to kill Xander and now I’m going to kill him, too. Same diff. With unblinking eyes she watched as the blood spiraled up and around the back of Willow’s jacket to create a familiar outline of cross streets.
The Bronze. Right. It was always the hotspot for vampires looking for tasty young blood. So Spike was hitting his old haunts, was he? Well, she was going to put a stop to that. Willow eyed her jacket and then asked for Buffy to hand her Spike’s coat.
“Since he’s worn it for so long, it’ll be strongly connected to him. I’ll throw an attraction spell on it; you can wear it and it’ll help you find him even if he starts moving again. He won’t be able to escape you.” Buffy wasn’t too pleased with the idea of donning Spike’s coat. It would be too much like having his skin touching hers again. Then she remembered the story he’d told her about how he got it.
It came from the last Slayer he’d killed. This was a Slayer’s coat. In an odd way it was fitting that she use it to destroy the vampire that had murdered two of her kind. With that thought, the last of her disgust vanished to be replaced by cold resolve.
__________
She ran through the streets. It was more of an easy lope actually. The coat actually seemed to be pulling her in the direction she needed to go. She could almost feel it humming along her skin like a live thing, drawing her near the serial murderer and rapist.
That’s right. Rapist. I can’t believe I just let that slide. I’m betting Anya wouldn’t have stood for it. She would have had his balls cut off or some other suitably gruesome torture before sprinkling his ashes on a dunghill. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that there was more than ordinary anger fueling her thoughts. It was as if an animalistic rage was prompting her to sniff out her prey and slaughter him without mercy.
She stopped abruptly as she caught sight of a small crowd in front of an apartment complex. There was an ambulance and she saw a sheet-covered figure being loaded into it. “What’s going on? Somebody hurt?”
A tall balding man in front of her spoke absently, never taking his eyes off the ambulance. “Some blonde chick got attacked by a dog, I think. Her roommate found her lying near the front door. Her throat was torn open.”
“Anyone see anything?”
The guy shrugged. “Does anybody ever see anything in this town? I’m going home before I get torn up, too.” He turned and his eyes narrowed in appreciation when he saw the attractive woman standing next to him. “Do you live here? ‘Cause, if you don’t, maybe I could walk you home. The streets obviously aren’t safe at night for single ladies.”
She flashed him a brilliant empty smile. “Thanks, buddy. But I’ve got a date with a hot blond myself. Bye.” Without another word, she turned and sped off. The guy considered going after her but she ran away too quickly for him to catch her. In seconds she was gone and he turned back with regret only to see that the ambulance had departed and the crowd dispersed. The body was gone: just another casualty of life in good ole Sunnydale. He hoped the young woman he’d been talking to was going to be okay.
__________
“Do you think Buffy’s okay? How long do you think it’ll take? I mean, Spike’s no pushover but she’s always been able to kick his ass in the past.” Dawn couldn’t keep still and kept leaping up to pace around the small apartment or peer out the window.
“Dawn, I cast a few good spells on Buffy. Do you remember the spell I used to make myself stronger to get through that shield protecting Jonathan and Andrew? Buffy’s got that mojo working for her. And the locator spell I’m using for her is keeping track of her wherever she goes. As long as that’s lit, we’ll know she’s fine.”
“No, that just means she’s alive. She could be unconscious or being held hostage someplace while Spike decides what he’s going to do to her.”
Dawn’s face became stricken with renewed worry while Willow puffed out her lips with exasperation. The ex-demon continued her ramblings, unheeding of the other two women. “Why is everybody so worried about Buffy, anyway? She’s got Slayer strength, wiccan power and a magic coat besides. Xander’s the one lying in the hospital with extreme anemia. We should get back there.”
“Anya, it’s after visiting hours. We can’t see Xander again; we’d just be spending the night on hard chairs. You heard what the doctor said. Xander’s really weak but he’ll live. He just got a transfusion and we’ll be able to take him home tomorrow. Thanks to the de-invite spell, he’s safe from Spike. He’ll be fine.”
“I guess,” was the grudging response. Dawn couldn’t stand it another minute. Why should she stay in here when Buffy might be in trouble? She could fight, too. But she was nowhere in her sister’s league. She’d nearly got bitten by a fledgling the very first time she’d gone on patrol with Buffy. She couldn’t take on a vampire of Spike’s experience and she knew it.
She cast an anxious eye at the clock. It was going on two a.m. and she had school in the morning. If she didn’t go to bed now, she was going to be seriously wasted during classes. Maybe she could stay home from school on the grounds that a family member was in the hospital. That might work, especially if Buffy wasn’t around to…
Dawn halted that thought, appalled. Of course Buffy would be around because there was no way she’d let Spike kill her when she had a sister to take care of and friends who still needed protecting. Bad Dawn. That was not a thought. Buffy’s going to be okay. She’s going to be fine. She’s…
Her frenzied thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. They all froze and then Willow bolted up and ran to the door. She slowly opened it to reveal--Buffy. The small blonde woman was standing almost preternaturally still on the doorstep. Seeing Willow’s stare, she smiled faintly. “Oh great, you’re still up. You guys got anything to eat ‘cause frankly I’m starving.”
Willow stood stock-still, staring narrowly at the figure in front of her. Buffy looked all right and she couldn’t have been turned; it took hours for that to happen. Buffy seemed to understand her hesitation. Without another word, she stepped into the apartment and all the women inside breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Dawn threw her arms around Buffy. “You’re okay, you’re alive. I was so worried; you have no idea.”
“Well, we got some idea. She was running around like headless chicken ever since you left. Honestly, I thought I was going to throw up, she was making me so dizzy.”
No one paid Anya’s prattle any mind. Buffy turned back to Willow and took her hand. Opening the wiccan’s palm, she sprinkled a small pile of black dust into it. “Here, Willow. This is for you.”
Willow stared at the small heap as understanding lit up her features. “Spike?”
Buffy nodded. “The very same. You can show it to Xander when he gets out of the hospital.”
Willow closed her hand tightly over the mound in it. “Count on it.”
Dawn looked at the closed fist and smiled humorlessly. “Who’s the ‘little bit’ now, huh, Spike? Amazing that something that loud could come out so small.”
Anya darted forward and clutched at Willow’s hand. “Can I have that after you show it to Xander? Vampire dust can be used in a lot of vengeance spells.” Seeing the looks on the other’s faces, she hastily amended, “Or any kind of spell, really. They’re like salt--good for a lot of stuff.”
“Whatever,” Buffy replied. She was worn out from the night’s events and, curiously enough, killing Spike had been the least of it. The others had spoken mainly of Xander’s injuries but she’d heard enough to know that she and Dawn hadn’t been the only ones having gabfests with the dead.
Something weird was going on in Sunnydale. But then, something weird was always happening in Sunnydale. She had to get Dawn back home tomorrow, clean up the mess in the house, see to paying for repairs (always an unwelcome chore) and gear herself up for the real danger headed her way.
Hell. She could worry about all of that tomorrow. Right now all she wanted was a hot shower. Maybe a hot shower and something to eat. She rolled her eyes up at the three girls hovering around her and smiled again.
“So. There any food in the fridge for one hungry Slayer?”

Finis
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Get the Bastard