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Epilogue


“Do you think he knows what happened to him?”

Willow stepped up next to Buffy as she asked the burning question that was on all their minds. Behind them Dawn carried on grinding together the ingredients that the witch had finally tracked down; the monotonous grind of the pestle and mortar were the only sounds in the book lined library. She opened her mouth to add her two pence worth and then remembered Xander’s banishment to the corridor and bit her lip. ‘Nu uh, wasn’t gonna say a word about Spike’s state of mind or if he was in pain or not.’ She liked her ass unkicked. Xander was still limping from what Vi and the other girls had reported back at dinner last night.

Buffy’s shoulders stiffened at the softly spoken question, her entire body rigid with frustration and anger. “I don’t know…” She rubbed her aching hands over her face. “God, I hope not.” Her eyes remained focused on his beloved form. She held her hands out in front of her, gingerly flexing her swollen knuckles, wincing briefly as the scabs voiced their disapproval by sending shooting pains up both her arms. “I don’t get it, why didn’t my Slayer strength break the glass?” she asked Willow for what had to be the hundredth time in the last two weeks. She still couldn’t believe it was only two weeks since Dru had taken her revenge on Spike and her.

Buffy glared over at the glass prison that Willow had trapped the vengeful vampiress. The others didn’t get it. All of them had wanted to stake her but Buffy wanted the demento vamp to see her plan fail and then she would plant a Redwood in her heart.

She and Spike deserved vengeance.

Their last fateful moments together in the abandoned palazzo were indelibly etched on her memories. They had been on patrol, sent to the empty palazzo by Giles who’d been made curious by rumours of a haunting, and he had asked them to check it out. Then it had all changed. One minute she was giggling at Spike goofing around as he stepped into the attic room. There had been a flash of blinding light; once her eyes had adjusted he had gone. Screaming she had run into the room, desperately scanning the darkness for any sign of his bright hair—and then her heart had stopped.

It had been a sight like nothing else she had ever seen. A huge gilded mirror had leant against the wall, its glass intact; the gold leaf decoration gleamed brightly in the torch light. Her hand shook as she shone the beam across it and revealed his form trapped in the glass. It had taken all her strength not to faint, not to scream; instead she had pulled out her cell and called Giles. Then she had sunk to her knees and waited, her hands pressed against the cold glass trying to touch him.

As the minutes had ticked by she had begun to hyperventilate, panic setting in. Her calm had finally shattered and she began to hammer on the enchanted glass, trying to break it. Trying to free him from it, to bring him back into her arms where he belonged.

He stood frozen, his familiar form caught between moments in time.

Dru hissed at her enemy, madness filling her eyes as she threw her head back and laughed in delight at the agony pouring off the Slayer and her sister. She licked her lips as if she was tasting the anguish that coloured the air; it was almost palpable to her and it filled her tummy with warmth. A heat that had been absent from the moment that the nasty gods had changed her daddy—it was all naughty William’s fault for not fighting harder and making sure that he was the one to be given the pressie, after all he had got a soul for her. Dru spat at Buffy, hate twisting her elegant features. William should be the one sweating and breathing, not her Angelus. It was disgusting—abhorrent for a great vampire such as him.

Her daddy was gone away, leaving her all alone. She had sensed his change and that was not how it was supposed to be. Dirtying his hands with a filthy dog—that was not right. She was his darling girl – no, that horrible degradation was not for her Angelus. Her bad boy deserved to be in pain, punishment for letting their daddy go away and also for touching the nasty Slayer.

So she had planned carefully. The spell had been a present from the nice lawyers and it had worked perfectly—revenge was sweet for all of them. In her madness and determination to have retribution, Drusilla had not realised that if the lawyers from Wolfram and Hart were seeking vengeance on Spike, then her precious daddy was also in their line of fire. Then again she had never been one for considering the ramifications of her actions; she was a creature of the moment, her mind so far gone that the machinations of evil law firms and their Senior Partners were far beyond her. Instead she revelled in the pain that the Slayer was living through. It was a perfect vengeance, even if she was caught in the tricky witch’s trap. Escape was always an option; she just needed to wait for the right moment. But for now she wanted to enjoy William’s capture. Humming happily to herself she danced around her prison, her mind filled with the thrill of her success, unaware of anything else.

“It’s starting to smell like burnt rubber. Is that what it’s supposed to do?” Dawn prodded the gelatinous goo with the pestle and screwed up her features into the ultimate yuck face.

Willow gave Buffy a reassuring smile before turning to the long table littered with ingredients and books. “Let me see?” she gave Dawn a quick hug and took the heavy bowl so she could sniff at the ingredients. “This looks perfect. Stinky, but perfect.”

“Willow? Is it me of is he looking really sickly?” Dawn stared at the ravaged face of her best friend and bit her lower lip, trying hard not to cry.

“Tick tock, times running away.” Drusilla giggled and snapped her fingers at the three girls. “Poor William’s tummy is full of growlies; you’ll be too late. Bye bye naughty boy.” The demented vampire swayed from side to side, her penetrating eyes never leaving Buffy’s face, soaking up the anguish as if it were blood nourishing her. She licked her red lips hungrily. “Oh slayer, you taste so good,” she crooned.

“Shut up,” Buffy yelled as she slammed her hand against the glass separating her from Drusilla, causing the thin vampiress to reflexively lurch backwards, cackling at the Slayer’s uncontrolled display of temper.

Willow grabbed the Slayer’s hand. “Ignore her, its almost over. Come on.” She pulled Buffy over to the mirror. “Okay guys, just stay back cos I have no idea what will happen.” She reached up and began to smear the goo Dawn had mixed onto the frame. She stood on her tip toes to reach the top curve of the gilded frame. “I still can’t believe you dragged this heavy thing all the way to Slayer Central!” she exclaimed, impressed.

“It was the only way to get help. Giles sent the plane. I just carried it.” Buffy shrugged. “Is it going to work?”

Willow wiped her hands clean on a towel Dawn handed her. “Sweetie, just wait a moment and let it work its way into the wood.” They had finally accepted the glass was impenetrable, but as all wood was porous, Willow had created a spell that would infiltrate the timber. She crossed her fingers behind her back; this was their last chance because she was completely out of ideas. She just hoped that the spell was only focused on the mirror itself and not the frame.

All four women watched the mirror, three in anticipation and one in terror that her plan was about to fail. Drusilla could sense the power; the magicks were working and it wasn’t fair. Fear began to trickle into her mind and suddenly escape was a distant possibility. There was always a price to pay when it came to magic and she was beginning to get scared.

Then it began to work.

The golden surface began to bubble under the goop; the frame twisted and warped under the magical influence of the applied potion. Buffy grabbed hold of Dawn in anticipation, her fingernails digging into her sister’s arms. Dawn winced but grabbed hold of Buffy and began to dance on the spot in excitement. All their work and failed spells had lead them to this moment.

She began to pray under her breath. “Oh please…please…please work this time!” Dawn screwed her eyes shut as she prayed to all the gods she could think of. As all of their attention was focused on the mirror they missed the silent entry of all the mini slayers and Xander into the library. All of them felt unable to stay away; they wanted to be there to see Spike return.

Willow squeaked and pointed to one of the corners. “Look!” Everyone’s eyes were riveted to the spot she was pointing to.

“Oh…my…god!” Buffy watched as a small crack appeared in the upper right hand corner. She held her breath, her green eyes brilliant with excitement and anticipation. She watched as the crack grew longer and split off into tiny tributaries, lines criss crossing the mirror until it looked like a spider’s web. “Willow, its working!” she shrieked in exhilaration. Her entire body vibrated with relief and hope.

“Noooo…” Drusilla moaned as she clawed at her face and watched her revenge crumble into ashes in her eyes. “It’s not fair. Make it stop.” Her wails and entreaties went unnoticed and ignored.

The hairline cracks began to shift and move, causing Spike’s image to distort and warp as if he were a portrait painted by Picasso. Then in a breathless pause the mirror seemed to fold in on itself and then expand, stretching his body beyond recognition. The silence in the room was filled with the buzz of heightened expectation.

“Whoa!” Dawn pulled Buffy back out of the way as the mirror liquefied and poured out of the frame onto the library floor. A silvery pool of fluid shimmered in the light. It slithered across the slate tiled floor coming to a halt near the two sisters.

“Spike?” Buffy pulled free from her sister’s clutching hands and ran towards the frame, her feet skidding in the liquid glass. Arms outstretched, she caught Spike as he fell forward out of the now empty gilded wood frame. “I got you, just hold on.” She shook with relief as his hands curled around her waist and he gasped for unneeded breath. “That’s it, you’re back. We got you back.” She impatiently dashed tears from her face and looked up at Willow. “Thank you. Oh God, thank you…” she chanted as she pressed fevered kisses to his face.

Willow squeezed her shoulder and smiled impishly down at her best friend. “Yay me!”

“Yeah Wills, yay you.” Xander gave her a one armed hug. “He looks starved. Here Buffster.” He handed a stunned Buffy a thermos of warmed blood.

“Guys, check it out.” Dawn pointed at the glass prison that had held Drusilla captive. Inside the vampiress was frozen in place, the glass and mercury from the mirror coating her entire form. Her mouth had opened in a silent scream, she now resembled a silver statue perfect in every detail. Unnoticed by all of them, the liquid silver had moved across to the instigator of the spell and encased her.

Spike’s head throbbed from the assault on his senses- he was used to the dark and isolation. Bright light, the sound of his girl’s voice, the whispers of a throng of slayers, Willow doing a happy dance with the Whelp and Dawn shrieking with glee all took his breath away for a moment. It took seconds for him to realise that the mirror had been his prison and not Buffy’s. He thanked the deity who watched over slayers for saving his girl from the horrors had almost destroyed him. He opened his eyes and looked up at Buffy’s tear soaked face and gave her a shaky smile. He was home, he was in her arms. He wasn’t alone and they all had saved him.

“I told you that there were always consequences,” Spike croaked as he smiled up at his slayer. He wrapped his arms around her and held on for dear life, thankful that she hadn’t been the one and that she hadn’t suffered. He glanced over at his former sire and shook his head in dismay at her foolishness.

A price paid in full.





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