Spike had had the idea of starting Dawn on some martial arts training, and he had insisted to Buffy that they get started as soon as possible. She'd wanted to be involved, but although today was a Sunday, which meant that Dawn was off from school, Buffy had to go off to the Palace for a shift at the counter.
Besides, Spike had also insisted that since he had a hundred years' experience on Buffy, he was better qualified to teach.
Which was why, this morning, Buffy was relegated to unlocking the Magic Box to let Dawn in. She had a key, to get to the training room, but Anya had made her swear never to let it out of her sight. And she had the feeling Anya would be extremely unhappy if she gave Dawn her key without asking permission first.
I may be only key-girl this morning, Buffy thought. But that doesn't mean I can't say good morning to my . . . What is Spike, anyway? After a minute, she figured "boyfriend" was a safe term. My boyfriend. I gotta see him. Gotta . . . touch him, just to know he's still there. And that I'm still here. Buffy knew she wouldn't be able to leave without at least giving him a good morning . . . hug? Smooch? She just knew that she needed some contact with him, or she'd never be able to get through the day.
The day. I'll be working, and Spike and Dawn will be . . . The idea of Dawn in training made her nervous, because she knew what would happen. Dawn had already wormed her way into the research end of being a Scooby. Once she thought she could take care of herself, she'd probably try to join in on patrolling and actual Slayage. Just the thought of Dawn facing off against a vampire or a demon again gave Buffy chills.
But Spike had reminded Buffy that Dawn was growing up -- she was the same age that Xander and Willow had been when they had formed the Slayerettes. And then he had the nerve to point out just how useless it was to try to keep a teenage girl from getting out at night -- especially in the Summers house. Wouldn't she rather see Dawn become a junior Scooby -- a Scrappy? she thought with a grin -- instead of seeing her be caught alone with a vampire without the proper training to defend herself?
Buffy knew he was right, but she still wanted to kick him for it.
Then Spike had upped the ante again. "Even if the time for Glory's ritual has gone by, Dawn's still got the Key energy running through her. And crazy folks, or the ones with visions -- same soddin' thing, if you ask me, just look at Dru -- will spot her a mile away." Then he shuddered. "Bloody Hell, now there's an awful thought -- Dru would probably be after Dawn in two seconds! 'Look at the lovely glowing girl, Miss Edith. Wouldn't she make a lovely playmate for you?' Bugger!"
Buffy shuddered herself. Drusilla wasn't nearly as powerful as, say, the Master or Dracula. Even Spike was a more dangerous fighter. But the psychotic, psychic vampire was in a class of wiggy all by herself.
When Buffy opened the door to the Magic Box, towing Dawn, Spike was waiting for them. "Slayer, you're late."
Buffy ran up and hugged him. It amazed him how wonderful it felt for her to just do that, without even thinking about who was watching them. "I know," she murmured into his shoulder, "and I wish I could stay and help out, but I gotta get going. I have to be at the Palace in five minutes, or it'll be back to the Help Wanted ads for Buffy Summers."
Spike growled a little. "I keep telling you, Buffy, that place isn't good for you. You're gonna end up . . . what's the term they use these days? Going postal? And a postal Slayer is not somethin' I wanna consider."
Buffy sighed. "I tried to explain this to you, Spike. I need the money-" she held up her hand as Spike tried to interrupt. "-from a job, from 'visible means of support.' Those social workers are still on my case, and if I don't have a job, they're gonna wonder where the money's coming from. They'll take Dawn away from me if I don't have the money to take care of her, or if they think I'm doing something like dealing drugs to get it."
Spike hadn't thought of that angle. Vampires made it a point to stay out of official scrutiny. The idea that Buffy had to maintain a "normal" persona in order to keep custody of Dawn had just never occurred to him.
She sighed. "I just wish I could somehow get back to classes at UC Sunnydale. But my salary will only just pay the bills we have now. If I dip into my savings to pay for classes, even at California residents' tuition, I won't have anything if the basement floods again, or another demon comes crashing through the front door."
That made him realize how tough Buffy's situation really was, not as the Slayer, but as a young woman. Willow's parents were pretty well off, and paid all her tuition bills without question . . . although they didn't seem to have any concern for her well being. He didn't think they even knew she was living at Buffy's house nowadays. Kinda like my own dear Mum and Pop, aren't they? he thought with a snarl.
Xander wasn't going to college, he was working full-time, as was Anya. And Tara-- "Wait a minute, Buffy." He thought. And grinned. "I have an idea. I don't want to get your hopes up just yet, but I may just have a way to kill two birds with one stone."
Buffy pulled back a bit and gave him a look. "What are you up to, Spike? If you get me involved in anything illegal or just plain stupid-"
He held up his hands, trying to look innocent. "I promise, luv, I'll tell you before I do anything. I just need to ask around a bit."
"All right," she muttered suspiciously. Then she looked at the clock, and yelped. "Oh my gosh! I have to go! Bye Spike! Bye Dawn! Seeya at five!"
As Buffy ran out the door and locked it behind her, Spike turned to Dawn and said. "Well, Niblet, let's get you started." He led her to the training room. Let's see what the Slayer's sister's got in 'er!
Sunday at the Palace was pretty quiet, which gave Buffy lots of time to brood. She hated to admit it, but Spike was right. This place was weird, even without wormy, shark-toothed demons . . . or Manny, she thought ruefully. The old manager had been a Grade-A flake, but he hadn't deserved to be eaten.
Still, it was all she had. She didn't think Spike was really going to be able to do anything to change her situation -- after all, his contacts were all in the demon world. No one he knew would hire the Slayer for a job . . .
Her musings were interrupted by a familiar face. "Xander! What're you doing here on a Sunday?"
"I came to eat lunch with my bestest friend, of course. I'll even pay for my own this time -- I'm too old to let my women take care of me."
Buffy had to laugh. "Well, I can take lunch now. Meet ya out back."
Five minutes later, they were munching on Medley Meals at the employee table out back. Xander was saying, "Ever since Willow did her analysis of the Doubleveggie Medley," Xander said with a grin, "Anya's been encouraging me to keep coming here, instead of the other places I used to go to for lunch. 'If you're going to eat junk food, Xander, you should at least eat some that's not all fatty and artery-clogging! I don't want you to have a heart attack at forty-five and leave me alone with two kids and a mortgage!'"
Buffy started to laugh at Xander's imitation of his fiancée, so she didn't realize at first that his face had gone very serious as he continued, "Buffy, there's another reason why I came here. I need to talk to you about something."
Buffy looked up at him. "Sure thing, Xan-man. What's on your mind?"
He put down the sandwich, and looked down at the table a long minute before he answered. "I don't know how to say this, but . . . Buff, do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
She was confused. "The right thing?"
"Anya. Me. Marriage."
"Oh." Her mouth fell open in shock. "Oh! " Oh God, no. I thought everything was going right in our lives, now! "Are you . . . having second thoughts?"
"More like third, fourth, and fifth, by now. It's not that I don't love Ahn, I do. I'm pretty sure that I wanna spend the rest of my life with her. But that 'pretty sure' has been getting to me, especially when she brings up the other stuff."
"You mean the two kids and the mortgage deal. God, I know how you feel." She shook her head in sympathy. "The bills, the collection agencies, the paperwork-"
"It's not that, Buff." She looked at him. "I hate to brag, but between my salary and Anya's, we're doing pretty amazingly well. We've looked at two houses we like already, and the mortgage payments would actually be less than the rent I pay on the apartment. Anya's learned how to invest, and has put together a portfolio that -- she claims -- will allow us to retire by age 50."
"So what's the problem, Xan? I wish I had all your problems!"
"The problem is, Buffy . . . " He broke off. And bit his lip. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Buff, you know what my family was like. Do you think I'm up to being a dad?"
Buffy was shocked. This was the last thing she had expected. "Xander, you're more than up to-" she interrupted.
"No, this is serious, Buffy. Think about it. I may be 'Joe Normal' as far as Sunnydale goes, but that still rates as seriously screwed up. I'm an only child. My parents hate each other -- probably only got married 'cause Mom got pregnant -- and my aunts and uncles are all so dysfunctional and scary they make Anya's demon friends look normal.
"Of course, that brings up Anya's side. Her human family's been gone for a thousand years. And her demon friends -- you think we could ask 'Hallie' to baby-sit while we go out for the evening?
"It's just us! And before you say it, I'm not forgetting you guys. You and Willow are like family. But . . . I just can't help feeling scared."
Buffy knew there was something he wasn't saying. "Of what, Xander?"
"Of having a kid who'll hate me like I hate my parents."
Buffy really wished she had Spike with her. Not because of what he'd say or do, but she was sure she'd be able to handle this better as full-range-of-human-emotions Buffy. But this was all she had, and Xander looked so lost . . . She'd never seen him look this bad, not even when . . . Wait.
"Xander, think about where you were a little over two years ago. Your car was gone, you had no job, you were living in your parents' basement-"
"And this is making me feel so much better, Buff!"
"-and look where you are now. You've got a good job that earns you good money, and which you seem to really like. You've got your own place -- a really great place, I still have to say -- and looking at buying a house, for God's sake. And last, but certainly not least, you're engaged to a girl who's as in love with you as you are with her.
"Did all these things just happen, Xander? Don't sell yourself short. You made them happen. You did the whole minimum-wage thing, worked long hours, and just dug your way out of that hole, all by yourself.
"You remember when we fought Adam? The enjoining spell? Remember what part you took in the SuperBuffy we made? The Heart. Well, 'heart' means more than love and compassion, Xander. It means courage and dedication and loyalty and patience. And your heart is right up there with Willow's Spirit, Giles' Mind, and my Hand. There's no one I know with more heart than you, Xander.
"Being a parent is all about heart. My mom taught me that. And you're gonna be a great dad, Xander."
Xander's chocolate-brown eyes were sparkling with tears. "You really think so?"
"I know so, Big Bro." What did I just say?
Xander said out loud what she had just thought, "What did you just say?"
Buffy thought about it, and said, "I guess I really do think of you as a big brother, Xander. Someone I could always rely on. Someone . . . dependable."
Xander gave her one of those looks that spoke volumes: Uh huh, that's real great, Buff, thanks loads. Sounds real sexy: "dependable."
"I'm serious, Xander. How many times have you been there for me? Not in a saved-my-life kinda way -- which is still very important, and for which I'm forever grateful." She gave him a big smile. "But in an 'I'll stand by you' kinda way. Like when I was feeling all lost and afraid at the beginning of college. You gave me that 'you're my hero' speech at the Bronze, and suddenly I could face the world again.
"Well, you know what, Xander? You're my hero. Because as strong and fast as a Slayer is, I haven't got any idea how to get out of this crummy job and find something I really wanna do with my life. But I've got you to look up to, because you were here, in this same situation, and you beat it. I just hope I can follow your lead, Xan-man."
Xander got up, walked around the table, and gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Buff. You don't know how much that means to me."
She gave him a small smile. "Anytime. Now finish your lunch, and go home to your fiancée and tell her all about the wonderful kids you're gonna have."
Xander looked at her. "I think I will. And I think I'll tell her she'd better like the name 'Buffy' for our first daughter."
The day was actually over pretty quickly after that. The compliment Xander had paid her just left her . . . floating . . . for the whole afternoon. It wasn't just happiness, it was . . . rightness. Like she'd finally fit a round peg into a round hole.
That's Xander, all right. If anyone was meant to be a daddy, it's him.
She punched out, and headed back to the Magic Box. When she opened the door, she could hear the sounds coming from the training room.
Swish, whack. Swish, swish, thump, thump!
"That's pretty good, Niblet. But don't get too cocky, or your opponent-"
Whack!
"-will do that! Oooh! Soddin' chip!" Buffy winced. She hoped Spike didn't have a permanent migraine from doing this.
"Ow! . . . You didn't have to hit me that hard!" Dawn sounded more insulted than hurt.
"Yes I did, Niblet. Bruises teach lessons better than any books. You'll never forget to watch out for your legs after a throw like that, will you?"
"No." Now she sounded sulky.
"See what I mean? Now, up on your feet. I heard the bell on the door, and that means your sister's here." Then Spike's voice grew louder "Why don't you come back, Slayer, and see what your sister's learned so far?
She headed back to the room, and looked at the two. They were both getting up off the floor. Dawn was sweating and tired, and to her surprise, so was Spike. She didn't think many normal humans would be able to make a vamp sweat like that, and she said so.
Spike nodded to Dawn. "Maybe she got something from bein' the Key, or your sister, or something. She doesn't seem as strong as a Slayer, but she's pretty strong, and she moves like bloody cat when she keeps her mind on what she's doing!" he finished with a glare at the younger Summers girl. He turned back to Buffy. "She's quick, agile, and she doesn't make the same mistake twice. Give her some time, and I think she'll do you proud."
Dawn beamed.
Without turning away from Buffy, Spike hooked a leg backward around Dawn's ankle and swept her off her feet. "Damn that chip!" he swore as he clutched his head. He turned to Dawn, and said with a snarl, "I didn't say we were done yet, Bit. Did I?"
Dawn looked shamefaced. "No you didn't, Spike."
"And the first rule of defense is . . . "
"Never let your guard down, because you never know when someone will turn on you."
"Good! Now we're done, at least with fighting." He helped her up. "We'll show your sister some moves, and then we're gonna go eat! Nothing like a little fightin' to work up an appetite!"
Buffy was stunned. Spike was a harder teacher than her own Watchers, Merrick and Giles, had been. But he was obviously experienced at this kind of thing. And very good at it, too. Now I know why he's a Master Vampire, and how he got so dangerous so fast. Guess I should be glad he's on our side now! Don't want him training any more vampires like this, do I?
Dawn showed her some moves, and Buffy saw that Spike was right. Dawn didn't seem to be Slayer-strong, but she was strong enough to fight. And very quick. She moved like a dancer, which she was; she had taken dance classes for several years, and only given it up after Mom got sick. Now those classes seemed to be paying off in unexpected ways.
And suddenly Buffy wondered if she had started a family business. Girls Who Kick Ass, Inc. She laughed. Maybe things really were going right.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Rupert Giles was perusing the copy of the Pergamum Codex that Angel had retrieved for him several years ago. There was a passage that had eluded him for several weeks, but he thought he was getting a handle on it.
If this word means "born," then how can this negative accent mark be part of it? Unless it means . . . that the person isn't born? I hope this isn't like Macbeth . . . caesarian births are all too common, these days.
But then some other things began to make sense, if he assumed the accent marks were Sumerian-style instead of Etruscan, and then . . . he was done.
As he looked upon the translated passage, he felt a chill. And those three words that the Scooby Gang had always dreaded slipped out. "Oh, dear Lord."
In the last days
There shall be two of the Recalled
Twice sisters
Thriceborn and Neverborn
Each shall meet her shadowself
One shall love
One shall kill
When they stand together at the Mouth of Hell
The End has Begun.
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