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Part ThirteenRegan Leary had never seen the punch coming.
She should have. Buffy Summers had been one of the most unpredictable Slayers, and yet one of the most successful in her short time, so Regan should have anticipated something happening. But she’d expected her arguments to carry the day.
Which is why she woke up to the sound of Xander and Cordelia Harris scampering down the stairs, and then a bizarre shouting match. She took a quick look out the window and saw Spike direct a vampire to cover the back of the house, presumably so she and the Harrises couldn’t escape.
Quietly, Regan went down the stairs. Nemesis was on full guard, and pacing a bit; the guardian familiar obviously knew something even more out of the ordinary than usual was occurring outside, and was preparing for action. As she passed she gave the guardian familiar a quick scratch between her ears. Nemesis was not truly a cat, but had many feline qualities. Appreciating a scratch was one of them.
Neither the Harrises noticed her, preoccupied as they were with the action in their front yard. Regan hurried to the back door. The vampire Spike had ordered to watch the back door was standing there … with his back towards her.
Vampires were fuckin’ morons!
Still, it gave her the opportunity. She crept back up the stairs, grabbed a stake, and quietly opened the kitchen window. The vampire was about five feet away from the building, an equal distance to her left, and about twelve feet down from the window. Regan jumped and landed on top of the vampire, and both collapsed onto the ground. The Watcher took the stake and thrust it into the struggling vampire’s heart before he could rise. Briefly, she longed for the days when she could take the time to just break a vampire’s neck. Then she got up and walked swiftly around the side of the house, and peered around the corner …
What the fuck? Angelus, still alive — and that was the least of her concerns. The Orb of the Savior resting on the ground, Siobhan with a knife at Buffy’s throat, and the Harrises too stupid to try the back door — and there was no way screaming and leaping into the fray would do her or Buffy any good, satisfying as it would be to hear the vampires’ necks shatter between her fingers.
And then Emily came springing out of the grove to the left. She stuck the landing and shoved Buffy away.
Then she took Siobhan’s knife, and brought the knife, and brought, and brou–, and b–, and, and, and, and and and and and and andandandandandandandand …
And
then
the
world
went
away.
* * *
Brought it down into her own chest.
Emily’s chest spurting with blood.
Dying.
Crying out Willow’s name.
Willow’s!
But I love you —
The knife in her own chest.
Willow’s name!
Emily’s dead.
Emily’s dead.
Emily’s dead.
* * *
When the world came back, Regan was immediately conscious of two things. One, she was crying tears over Emily’s body. Two, everyone was looking at her, at least as much as they could.
Waiting to see what she would do.
Fools.
She sniffled once and slowly stood up. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Xander, Buffy — she didn’t care which one — and Angelus were surrounded by many of the lower-ranked vampires, plus Elsza, who was clearly having the time of her unlife. Spike was standing back and directing the fight.
None of this mattered to her at all. There she was!
“Siobhan!”
The redhaired vampire’s concentration broke for a second. Then she saw Regan and smiled. “I told you, Regan Leary, that I’d be paying you back ruining my plans fifteen years ago.” She waved her hand at Emily’s — Emily’s —
No. She’d broken down once. She’d seen what that kind of emotion could do. And she was not going to give in to it now.
She channeled it until it was all focused on one point. The end of her stake. All of her rage, her grief, was there.
Gesturing at Emily’s body, Siobhan said, “So what do you think of my handiwork?”
Regan rarely wasted time with witty banter in medias res. “I’ve seen better,” she muttered as she kept walking forward.
“And you’ll see better still,” the vampiress said. “Watch and learn.” And then she made a production out of concentrating.
Nothing happened, and Regan was still stalking towards her, slowly and inexorably. Wildly, Siobhan looked around until her gaze fixed on Willow. “Spike!” She called. “Something she’s doing — I can’t resurrect anyone!”
Spike immediately directed two vampires who’d been thrown away from the center fight to chase down the ex-Watcher. Willow stood her ground for a minute, then turned and bolted, disappearing out of sight with the two vampires in pursuit.
The fucking coward.
Regan gave up the dramatics and charged towards Siobhan.
A vampire appeared in front of her.
Regan staked it and took a half-step forward.
Another vampire appeared.
Regan staked this one too.
Another vampire, another one killed.
Regan knew why Siobhan was doing this, and she didn’t care.
She’d go through vampires all night to get the bitch.
* * *
Elsza had no idea how she’d come back, or why, but she knew one thing: Life, well, unlife was a party. And nothingness, well, it was so dead … anyway, she’d need to thank Spike and the redhead.
And thank ’em double for this shot at revenge!
A part of her was laughing, now. The tables had been turned! Now she was the soulless vampire, and Angel — oh, poor, poor, brooding, souled Angel. Having a heart was a bitch.
Maybe she could rip his out.
Naah. Lacked … poetry.
At that she chuckled out loud.
And there was Xander, and Cordy … and their daughter! Oh, my, named after who she’d been.
Well. This was shaping up rather nicely.
And poor, poor Angel was having difficulty just looking at her. Oh, the guilt must be eating him alive!
She went up to him and said, in her best pathetic human voice, “But Angel — I thought you loved me.”
He sighed. “Not you. Never you.” But she could see it was getting to him.
And she laughed again.
* * *
Regan was destroying Siobhan’s creations without really even breaking stride, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to the object of her hatred. Angel looked around hopelessly. Why had he come here? Now, one person was dead and the rest were likely to be that way quickly.
He fought because he felt like he had to. It was expected of him.
Buffy Harris spared him a glance in the middle of the combat. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“What I’m doing — Spike was right.” He threw a vampire across the yard and watched more warily. “I never should have come. There’s no way I can ever be forgiven for what I’ve done.”
“Of course there is,” she replied. “I forgive you.”
“Ooooh,” Elsza said, striking at Buffy. “Fighting and dramatic emotional revelations just don’t mix.” The voice was Buffy’s at its most sarcastic. Another twist of the knife of guilt into Angel’s soul.
Angel grimaced, ignoring Elsza’s jibe. “I’m sorry … you’re not one of the people I need forgiveness from.”
“You’d be surprised,” she answered. “Let me say it more clearly. I. Forgive. You.” Xander shot his daughter an extremely dirty look. Angel could easily understand why.
“I doubt it,” Angel said grimly. “I’ve never done you any harm.” They caught a vampire between them, and Buffy staked it.
“A little less chat, a little more Slaying?” Xander said, panting. He was still game, but his energy was clearly staring to fade. Cordelia, playing possum on the ground, stuck out an arm and tripped another vampire. Quickly her husband staked it. No, not playing possum — she was clearly still woozy.
“You killed me, my friends, caused all that havoc using my body, and you don’t need my forgiveness?” What was this? “You look like you’re not sure what I’m saying. Let me put it in way that only you will understand.” She whirled and kicked Elsza in the stomach, hard, then staked another vampire. Then she pulled Angel’s head down and quickly whispered eight words that made all the difference:
“When you kiss me, I want to die.”
* * *
< What did that mean? > Buffy Harris asked.
< Just proving myself. Watch this. >
Buffy and Angel threw out simultaneous punches, knocking two vampires down. “Is it you?” he whispered.
“Don’t know how, don’t know why, don’t —” she kneed a vampire in the stomach and propelled him towards Spike “— have time to explain right now. But yes.”
“You forgive me,” he said numbly. “You forgive me.”
“You don’t need to be forgiven,” Elsza’s voice came mockingly from beside them. “I like what you did.” Buffy looked up just in time to receive a solid blow to the face, followed by a kick to the jaw. The Double Slayer went down.
Angel’s transformation was immediate. Wonder in his voice, Angel said, “She forgives me. She forgives me.” Then his eyes fixed on Elsza. “That makes you irrelevant, offspring.” Then he loosed a savage backhand punch that literally sent Elsza sailing across the yard. Then he took the vampire currently overpowering Xander and gave him the same treatment.
Xander looked up at him, then got to his feet. He said nothing.
“You could say thank you,” Angel said.
“I could,” Xander answered. Angel didn’t answer; it wasn’t worth the effort.
Buffy groaned internally as she stood up and charged another vampire, staking it. Some things would never change, no matter how much Xander grew up.
< Play fair, > Buffy Harris told her. < Angel did a lot to him. > Cordelia screamed and kicked a vampire in the knee. Finally, she’d managed to get up. Then she threw holy water in his face.
< I know, > Buffy Summers answered. < But still … >
< Yeah, > Buffy Harris thought. < My knowledge of Deadboy is based on what he said. I couldn’t have forgiven the bastard, either. Don’t take it personally, it’s just kinda hard to get past all those dead bodies. > Then a mental sigh. < I’m glad you were able to forgive him, though. The prophecy … >
Buffy Summers bristled at that. < You have a lot of your father in you, > she thought. She punched a vampire.
Buffy Harris thought back, < Thanks. >
< That wasn’t entirely a compliment. >
< I know. >
She and Angel tag-team decked another vamp. “Good to have you back,” she said with a smile.
“Good to be back,” he answered.
The souled vampire was a one-man wrecking crew, throwing vampires around the yard with reckless abandon. And Siobhan couldn’t help, because Regan was demolishing every one of her creations as soon as they appeared. They were both grateful that Siobhan hadn’t thought of using her new power to resurrect humans — Buffy Summers because she thought that would stop Regan from trying, Buffy Harris because she was fairly sure it wouldn’t.
Buffy Harris asked, < Can I have my body back? Not like I was planning to use it or anything, but if you don’t need it, I was thinking of maybe killing some vampires? >
Buffy mentally nodded. < You definitely have a lot of your father in you. >
Then she released control.
< Besides, > Buffy Harris said wickedly as she took control and struck the approaching Elsza in the nose, < I have plans for you … >
< I don’t like the sound of that. >
< That’ll teach you to insult my father. >
* * *
Spike watched Angel’s transformation in horror; then he watched the legion of vampires rapidly dwindle until the fight was fairly close to even. And he watched his idiot ally Siobhan, the redheaded moron, waste time creating vampires solely to slow down one. Single. Goddamn. Human.
Elsza retreated briefly. “From your face, Spikey, I don’t think this is the way you saw the evening turning out.”
“Keep the sarcasm to yourself.” There was still a way to make this work.
Elsza laughed. “Me?” Then she leapt back into the fray.
Well, she wasn’t running from the fight, but then given whose body she inhabited, she wasn’t built to run.
When it all came down to it, Spike didn’t care what use Siobhan put the Orb to, as long as he got his dark princess back. And at this point it looked like his side was about to lose.
Then Spike made the worst decision. He walked up behind Siobhan and said, “Could I have Dru back?”
“I’m a little pressed right now,” she said distractedly.
“We had,” Spike insisted, “a deal.”
“Which I fulfilled. Not my fault that the Watcher decided to go and ruin it all.”
In the most menacing tone he could muster, Spike said, “Bring her back now, or —”
“Or what? Kill me and you’ll never be getting back your beloved Drusilla. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to keep my head on my neck here.”
“You might not keep it there very long in any case, the way that Watcher’s coming at you,” Spike said. “Now give me back Drusilla!”
The Irish vampire turned at him and growled. Regan Leary took advantage of the temporary gap in vampire production and took another step forward. Now she was a mere five feet away.
“Fine!” She howled. “You want Drusilla back, well, there you go.” And Dru appeared …
… right in front of the singleminded stake of Regan Leary.
And she was dust … and then she wasn’t, and then she was, and then she wasn’t … torture, every second of it, torture.
“I can keep doing this as long as you want me to,” she said mockingly to Spike.
“Actually, you can’t,” a voice came from somewhere above them, as the flow of vampires disappeared. Spike looked up and saw Willow Rosenberg leaning out the upstairs window of the building. “Funny thing about vampires … they don’t seem to learn from experience. But then, neither do you, do you, Spike?” He ignored the gibe.
Then he looked around the yard. The final remaining local vampire was killed, by Angel. He had singlehandedly destroyed virtually the entire supply of local vampires in his newfound joy at being ‘Forgiven.’ That left only Elsza fighting, and she was too caught up in the sheer joy of the moment to notice that all of her allies had vanished. She was holding off Buffy and Xander Harris, Cordelia Harris having taken the opportunity to bolt for the house as well.
Siobhan ran right before Regan Leary caught her. Unfazed, the Watcher walked right past him and followed her quarry off into the night. Spike was only too glad not to get in her way.
And then Angel was headed right for him and there was no more time for observations. He barely dodged Angel’s first punch, and when he threw one back walked right into an uppercut that staggered him.
“What’s wrong, Spike? Holding back from a fight like this isn’t your style.”
“I’ve learned a few things as I’ve gotten older,” Spike answered as Angel kicked his kneecap. Finally he connected with a punch, a hard right to the stomach, but Angel just ignored it.
“Not how to bring Drusilla back, obviously.” Spike struck out blindly, wildly, and missed so badly he went tumbling to the ground. Angel kicked him in the ass as he fell.
“You’re enjoying this,” Spike accused Angel.
“Guilty as charged.”
Then Spike did something Angel wouldn’t have expected: He jumped up, shoved Angel away, and ran for the truck.
It hurt his image to appear like a bloody coward, true, but a dead hero could never bring back Drusilla.
* * *
Wait a second. Why was she running from a mere human?
Siobhan Megan Gilloolly was not one to cower in fear like this, even from a Watcher. She might not have the power of the Orb of the Savior backing her anymore, but she’d never needed it before. She stopped and waited for Regan Leary to appear. One on one, she was more than a match for any human.
And she thought this right up to the moment when Regan Leary glided silently out of the darkness and broke her neck.
* * *
Buffy and Xander had Elsza on the ropes, but the vampire wasn’t about to give up.
“After all these years, Xander, you still hit like a girl.”
“After watching my daughter fight, that’s not nearly the insult you think it is.”
< Why doesn’t she give up already? > Buffy Summers thought.
< She’s based on you, remember? Would you give up? >
< It just doesn’t seem right. We’ve almost got this won … >
< Like I said, I have plans for you. > “Yo! Deadboy!” she called out. “If you’re not doing anything useful, maybe you could come over and give us a hand here?”
He came running over and ended the conflict quickly by tackling Elsza, then pulled out a stake. “No!” Buffy gasped out. “Don’t. Hold her still.” Then she walked up to Elsza, until they were practically none to nose.
“Well, well,” Elsza said. “If I’d known this turned you on …”
“I’m not that easy,” Buffy shot back.
< What are you doing? > Buffy Summers asked her.
< Giving you a new home. > “Elsza,” she said, “I have something that belongs to you.”
Then she kissed the vampire.
And the soul of Buffy Summers flowed, quite naturally, back into its own body.
As if it was always meant to be there.
* * *
She collapsed.
No, she couldn’t; Angel’s strong arms were holding her up. She opened her eyes and saw her namesake — almost her twin — staring back at her.
“What did you just do?” Xander asked his daughter. Cordelia and Willow, running from the security of the house, said much the same thing.
“I gave Buffy Summers her soul.”
“Are … you sure?” Willow asked. “I mean, there’s no way to test. Anything Buffy would know, Elsza would know.”
“Well, she’s not in me anymore. I think … I can feel her, crazy as that sounds.”
“Guys?” Buffy said. “Why not ask me who I am?”
“I know a way to find out,” Angel said.
“Like we’d trust anything that came from you.” This from a glaring Cordelia.
“Dad — Mom — I don’t like him any better than you do, but I say she’s in there, and if Angel can prove it to me, I say we go for it.”
Xander, Cordelia and Willow looked at each other. Buffy Summers could read their faces. They didn’t entirely trust her, they sure as hell didn’t trust Angel, but they trusted their daughter.
“What the hell. Go for it, Deadboy,” Xander spat. “But remember, I still owe you a stake through the heart, and if this is a sham —” he didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to.
“Buffy,” Angel said. “If that’s really you: What did you say that made me accept your forgiveness?”
Buffy Harris’ head jerked. “I know this one!” she said. “I can back it up!”
All eyes turned to Buffy. She took a deep breath, and she said the eight words:
“When you kiss me, I want to die.”
Buffy Harris practically sank into the ground in relief. “That’s it, all right,” she said. Angel nodded, though no one was paying attention.
Xander, Cordy and Willow gathered around Buffy for a group hug, and were confused when she waved them off. “Guys? I’m still a vampire here … don’t trust me.” They ignored her and pressed the hugs anyway.
After a few minutes of this — during which Angel stood quietly off to one side — Buffy pulled free and went over to stand next to him. There were matching looks of disgust on Xander and Cordy’s faces.
“Welcome back, Buffy,” he said tenderly. “Without you —”
“I was about to say the same thing.”
Cordelia interrupted the moment. “Are we done here?”
“Not quite,” Buffy told them. Then she reluctantly pulled free from Angel’s grip and walked over to the Orb of the Savior. “This — this is too powerful. We don’t want anyone else like the alternate me popping up again. Are we all agreed on that?” And, not waiting for an answer, she lifted her vampire/ Slayer foot over the stone, and smashed it into a thousand pieces.
“NO!!!” Regan’s voice came from behind them. They all turned and saw the Watcher standing there. “No, goddammit, no!” She walked up to Buffy and said, quietly, “Couldn’t you have waited? All I needed was one more person. One more …” She straightened up. “All of you can leave. This is my property, I’ll finish cleaning this up.” When there was hesitation, she barked out a curt, “Go!”