Buffy sighed as she approached her house, thankful to be away from the Magic Box and the questions that she had no answers to. It had been a full week since her return, and things were just starting to settle back to what could almost pass for normal. No, that wasn’t true. They would never have anything that came remotely close to passing to normal for most people, but things were at least starting to settle a little.

Giles was finally starting to accept the fact that she had no idea why they had returned her just that they had. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful to whomever for doing so, but she knew deep down inside the Watcher wanted answers. Things just don’t happen, everything has a reason. That was something that was drilled into watchers from what she understood, to help them have a handle on prophecies and their inevitability. There is always a reason, and he was bound and determined to find it.

She didn’t care why she was back, she was just glad someone brought her home. However, at the same time, she hated them. Someone had stolen seven years of her life. She missed so much of Dylan’s life…

Buffy hadn’t even recognized the child when she came home! Yeah, they had told her seven years had passed, but, in the back of her mind, she hadn’t fully believed them. She expected that she would come home, find her baby sleeping upstairs in her crib, and it would turn out that they were all wrong and nothing bad had really happened after all. But that little blonde-haired girl standing in the kitchen, with Spike’s eyes full of confusion and Buffy’s own mouth dropped slightly in shock, had been living proof that time had moved on without her. That they had moved on without her.

Besides that morning, the rest of the week had pretty much been a blur. Scoobies from past and present were dropping by all the time, almost as if they were afraid she’d disappear again if they left her alone for too long. The only one who didn’t kept a constant eye on her or wanted to be around her twenty-four seven was Dylan.

The kid didn’t know what to make of her, she guessed. Sure, the others were constantly telling the child infamous stories about her slayer mom in front of Buffy, building her up to sound like some sort of superhero god that could walk on water, but the seven-year-old was less than interested by them. The fact was, she didn’t know Buffy and she couldn’t remember her from before she died; so now the fact that she was sitting in the living room, talking about old times that Dylan couldn’t recall, really didn’t mean much to her.

Joyce had flown back from New York the minute Dawn called with the news of Buffy’s return. That was something else that had changed while she’d been away. Her Mom’s already popular gallery had become even more so; she now also owned a gallery in LA and had gone to New York to make a deal with some other owners who wanted to partner with her. Buffy had noticed before she died that her mother’s business among the richer clientele had increase, especially to a certain Spanish country where the slayer had spent time. Of course, now her mother had gained a great deal of credibility among the elite, but Buffy would have to remember to tell a certain heiress ‘thank you’ the next time she saw her.

Oz bad been by once or twice, and had brought that kid Van with him. The boy was about nine or ten years old now-Buffy wasn’t sure which-and had begun to look more and more like his father in the face. To see a picture of Van and Oz standing together, you could easily tell they weren’t related; but when you meet them in person that was hard to believe. Van acted so much like the older werewolf it was believable he was actually Oz’s son.

She had finally asked Oz why Tara hadn’t come by to see her and got an answer that she didn’t like. Now she really didn’t know what to make of that Andrew guy back at the Magic Box. He might not have actually been the one to kill her friend, but he was closely associated with the person who had. Well, if Willow was able to work with him around, maybe she could as well.

Connor had returned and had brought along some Angel and Cordelia shaped friends. Neither one of them seemed to have changed all that much over the years, but Cordy was definitely making it clear that Angel was hers now. Buffy could tell the last time they’d been there that they were close to getting together. They hadn’t stayed long, just long enough to see she was indeed alive, gave her the awkward welcome back, and went back to the life they had left in LA.

Connor had been paying more attention to Dawn and her reaction to all this than he had the returning slayer, which was fine by Buffy. He should be concerned with his girlfriend and how she felt, that’s what good boyfriends do, right? But he had at least actually given Buffy a quick, ‘Welcome back’ before going off to slay something with her sister.

Willow and Xander were practically conjoined to her since her return. They were there when she woke up in the morning and there when she went to bed in her newly relocated room that had been Dawn’s. Today, though, Xander had finally gone home earlier in the evening when a very upset Anya had threatened him with divorce if he didn’t come back home and help take care of his children. And Willow had gone soon after when she got beeped from her very irritated boss who would like to know if she wanted to return to work that evening or not come back at all.

Not that Buffy minded some time away from her friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t love them, but she was really getting tired of playing ‘stuff Buffy can’t answer’ that they had been bugging her about. She didn’t know why she was sent back. She didn’t know why they had chosen for seven years to pass. All she knew was that she was back and wanted to get back to her old life. Only problem was, the old life wasn’t there waiting for her anymore. There was this whole new life where her daughter was seven and hated her, Dawn was in college and living in the dorms, and Spike…she honestly didn’t know what was up with him.

He acted so different around her now, like he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be around her or not. The slayer didn’t know how much clearer she could be about wanted him there short of actually handcuffing him to her before he made yet another getaway to the basement or on patrol. Buffy just wished he would talk to her, like he used to.

The front door closed quietly behind her as she returned from yet another section of 20 Questions with the Scoobies. They really were driving her nuts, but at least she managed to get away from them pretty early that night. Maybe after dinner she would go on patrol. Yeah, that’d be fun. Buffy paused that the thought. She must really be board of research if the word ‘fun’ was being associated with the word ‘patrol’.

“Anybody home?” she called into the house, listening as her own voice echoed through it.

It was a stupid question, someone had to be there if for nothing else than to keep an eye on Dylan. Buffy still couldn’t believe she had actually gotten suspended from school! Well, even if Dylan was a lot like Spike, it was good to know that her daughter had at least inherited a little bit of her.

When no answer came, Buffy began to check around the house. All three of the upstairs bedrooms where empty, including Dylan’s. She went back down to the first floor, deciding it would best to check there before going downstairs and asking Spike if he knew where they were, and found a folded piece of paper resting on the bar. Her name was on it, and Buffy recognized Dawn’s chicken scratch as she began to read the letter.

Took Dylan over to my place on campus to spend the night. Yeah, I know she’s ground, but Mom got called down to LA for the night and I thought that maybe you and a certain vampire, who lives in our basement but shall remain nameless, could use a little catching up time. You can thank me by holding your little ‘catching up’ session down in his room instead of my old one. Hey, I still have to sleep in there sometimes you know. And don’t roll your eyes cause I know a lot more than you think I do about you and Spike. You’ve got a second chance, Buffy; don’t blow it like I know you’re so good at doing. I’ll bring Dylan back tomorrow before my first class at ten. Have fun.

Buffy shook her head as she put the paper back down on the counter. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for some alone time with him, she had tried on several times to do so already, but she didn’t know if he wanted to be with her anymore. He didn’t act like it. It was times like these she missed the old pre-souled Spike. The moment he saw her he would have either jumped her or tried to kill her or at make some lewd comment to at least let her know what he was thinking. Now all he did was talk to her politely when there were a lot of people around and, since the first day she came back, hardly talk to her at all when there weren’t. Damn it! Why did he have to get all complicated on her?

“Meow!” a voice bellowed from her feet before a tiny, furry head slammed into her leg.

The blonde looked down to find Dylan’s cat, Sid, rubbing against her. With a sigh, she thought, Right idea, wrong male.

“Hey, Sid,” she said, reaching down and picking the black tomcat up. The animal almost instantly started purring as she scratched under his chin. “Well, looks like it’s going to be me, you, and soul man downstairs tonight.”

The cat meowed again at the mention of Spike. Dawn had told her that the two had never had gotten along. She had said Sid hated it when one of the girls was paying attention to the vampire instead of him. Plus, Buffy suspected the cat also didn’t like the fact that Spike could growl and purr louder than him. Maybe Giles should call the council and tell them to add a chapter to one of their books on vampires of why cats and vampires are non-mixy things.

She kissed the tomcat on the top of his head and then turned for the phone. “Come on. You can help me order dinner.”

**********

“Die! Die! Die!!” Dylan exclaimed, smashing her thumb into the remote control button.

“I’m sure that’s something your parents would love to hear you say,” Dawn said dryly as she picked up the pizza box from the floor and took it into Connor’s kitchen, but the seven-year-old and the college student who was playing the game with her, didn’t hear her. Instead, they just continued to stare at the television as the two computerized street fighters tried to beat each other into a digitalized bloody pulp. Dawn groaned at their obliviousness to her, and called behind her as she disappeared into the kitchen, “I play winner.”

Connor looked up momentarily, then tried out the cool move Xander had shown him. He couldn’t help but smile brightly when his man knocked Dylan’s on his butt, taking out the rest of his power.

“Hey!” the child exclaimed upon realizing that the one thing she hated had just happened. She had lost. Groaning, she dropped the control on the carpet and turned her pout towards the young man beside her. “You couldn’t even let me win a video game match?”

“No,” he said, the slightest bit of amusement at her aggravation showing through.

That’s why she hated playing with Connor, he never let her win. When they sparred, he made sure he kicked her kid-sized butt all over the mat. And, no matter what Dawn or Giles said, she knew it wasn’t because he was trying to teach her anything; he did because he liked making sure she lost.

Her dad told her it was because he was related to Peaches and she was related to him. It was the circle of life; Angel made Spike’s life hell when he was teaching him, and Connor was there to make hers the same during her training. Why couldn’t they pass on normal family traits? Like alcoholism. Well, one day she’d beat him, and she’d be sure she kicked his ass right good when she did.

“So, what’s with you and your mom?” he asked out of left field, surprising Dylan momentarily. Leave it to Connor to come right out and ask something. Just confirmed he’d been hanging out with Cordelia and Anya too long.

“What about me and Buffy?” Dylan asked, getting up from the floor and heading over to the oversized recliner. She flopped down into it, grabbed his GameBoy from the end table, and began to play, hoping he’d get the idea that she didn’t want to talk about this.

“Dawn says that you haven’t exactly been overly welcoming to her,” he said, also getting up from the floor and walking to her. Jerking the game out of her hand, and causing her to give him an icy stare, he said, “You really should give her a chance. She’s pretty cool from what I remember.”

“This coming from the boy who dropped Daddy Dearest to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean?” she asked dryly, raising her eyebrow.

“I had issues,” Connor agreed as he backed up and sat down on the edge of the nearby couch. “Question is why do you have them with Buffy?”

Dylan looked at him for a long minute, before sighing and pushing further back into the recliner. “You know, I liked the pre-psychology class Connor a lot better.”

The miracle child shrugged. “It was a requirement. Now quit stalling and tell me why you’re having such a big problem with Buffy being around.”

The truth was, she didn’t know why she and Buffy just weren’t hitting it off. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mom; she did, but it was just so strange having her around now. None of them seemed to get that.

“It’s just weird, Connor,” she confessed quietly upon seeing his stern look. If there was one thing she had learned about the older boy it was when to fess up by the look on his face. “I mean, she comes back after seven years and everyone is acting like we should all go right back to the way things used to be, but I don’t remember the way things used to be. It’s been me and Dad, you know? I mean, yeah, I had you guys and Gram and the others too, but it was mainly us. And now there’s this new person who’s already left once.” She became quieter as her eyes dropped down to the floor. “I just don’t see the point of getting attached when she’s just going to leave again.”

“What makes you think she’s going to leave again?”

Dylan couldn’t help but laugh. “God, Connor. Are you charging me by the hour for this?”

He leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms. Most people wouldn’t be able to really read what he was thinking, but Gram always said that Dylan was a student of human behavior, whatever that meant. All she knew was when he did that, it meant he wanted her to go on and he wasn’t going to give up until he got what he wanted.

“Why would she stay? She didn’t the last time,” the seven year old said simply.

Dawn leaned against the inside wall next to the entrance between the kitchen and living room, her heart sinking to her stomach as she listened to her niece and boyfriend talk. She might have told Buffy she had taken Dylan for the night because she wanted to give her and Spike some alone time, but that was only half of it. The truth was she knew there was something up with the child and if anybody could get it out of her, it would be Connor. Well he had gotten the truth out of her, and it confirmed nearly everything that Dawn had feared. Dylan didn’t hate her mother, she just felt abandoned by her. Honestly, Dawn didn’t know which was worse.

Taking a moment to make sure she wouldn’t break down in tears the moment she saw Dylan sitting there, Dawn plastered a smile back on her face and walked into the living room. Dylan stiffened immediately upon seeing her aunt, and even Connor seemed to become ridged. He knew Dawn had been listening, but it was a sure reaction to Dylan.

Dawn didn’t let it faze her as she smiled at them, then turned to her niece, “Dylan, I think it’s about time me and you head back to my room. Your dad would kill me if he knew I let you stay up this late, and I don’t need him getting calls tomorrow from Giles about you falling asleep on the Diaries…again.”

Nodding her head, the seven-year-old got out the recliner and stretched a little while she yawned. Connor got to his feet as well when two girls headed out the front door. Dawn held back a bit as Dylan walked the length of the hallway before seeing that her aunt was not following, but talking with Connor.

“You might want to take patrol tonight,” Dawn told him in a low whisper. “I’m hoping my sister and a certain vampire will find better things to do tonight.”

“Sure, I’ll head out later,” he told her, smiling ever so slightly.

Returning the gesture, she leaned up and a lightly brushed her lips to his. It was nothing passionate; don’t want to disturb her niece too much, but more than just a friendly kiss. This was her way of thanking him, and promising to give him a proper thank you later on.

“Oh, that’s just gross,” Dylan whined in disgust.

Dawn pulled away from him, and laughed slightly at the little girl waiting for her. As Dylan made a production of throwing her arms in the air and rolling her eyes at the couple, Dawn said to him lowly, “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” he answered before letting her go.

She smiled one last time at him, then turned back to the aggravated child who was waiting for her.

“Do you really feel you have the need to do the whole kissy thing when I’m right here?” Dylan complained as they walked away.

Reaching over, Dawn rubbed the back of the child’s curly blonde head. “You’ll understand the whole ‘kissy thing’ someday.”

“I hope not, cause boys are just…eww. I don’t ever want a boy kissing on me like that.”

“Trust me when I say that, if it were up to your father, there won’t be any boys trying to get kissy on you,” Dawn laughed as she saw an image of Spike’s face the first time he would catch Dylan making out with some pimply-faced teenage boy. Hopefully the cop who would be sent to investigate the boy’s homicide would understand. Besides, it’s not like the cops in Sunnydale were that good at solving murders anyway; they could probably convince them he decapitated himself.

“What’s so funny?” Dylan asked, noticing the amused smile on her aunt’s face.

“Oh, nothing.”

**********

Spike jerked in a breath as he woke yet again from another nightmare. Over the past week, they had been worse than they had been in years, ever since she came home. He didn’t know why, because he knew she was safe upstairs now. No, that was a lie. He knew why he felt so guilty after all this time. She was in pain, both his girls were.

Dylan was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that she actually had a mother again. She didn’t listen to Buffy, and called her by her first name. He could see how much it hurt the slayer when the child did that. A part of him wanted to order the seven-year-old to stop and call her what other children call their mothers, but it would do nothing but cause Dylan to be angry at him. It was a precious word and it wouldn’t mean anything until Dylan was willing to call Buffy that on her own. But that was the only reason he let that continue.

The slayer was having a hard time readjusting as well. When she left, she’d had a baby, and now she didn’t. Dylan was completely different than from what she remembered, as all children change over years, and he hated that she had missed so much. If it wasn’t for his slow reaction time, she wouldn’t have.

God, why couldn’t it have been him instead of her? It would have been so much easier if the roles had been reversed. He just knew it would have been.

Letting out a breath slowly, Spike glanced up at one of the windows and found it was completely dark. Guess that meant it was time for him to get up because there was a world to protect and all.

Climbing the stairs, he heard the faint sound of an old song that he had long ago forgotten the words to. It was one of those songs that everyone had heard once in their life from it being played so often, even if it wasn’t their taste of music. And this definitely wasn’t his taste of music.

Pushing the basement door opened, he found the slayer in the kitchen, the little radio that usually only blasted that awful mariachi station playing the song softly as she swayed to it. There was a pizza box sitting in the middle of the island, the top pulled back and a single slice missing from the pie and resting on a plate next to the box. Buffy had her back to him as she danced to the music while retrieving a glass from the cabinet. Spike couldn’t help but smirk as he leaned against the door frame and watched her while she started to sing along with the song.

“You got let your soul shine,

Just like my daddy use to say.

Use to say soul shine,

It’s better than sunshine,

It’s better than moonshine.

Damn sure better than rain.

And now people don’t mind,

We all feel this way sometimes,

Got to let your soul shine,

Shine till the break of-Spike!” she yelped, jumping when she turned around and found she had an audience.

He chuckled at her. “Oh, no, go on, love. Think the song still has a couple of verses left.”

She sent him a scolding look, though he could easily see she wasn’t really mad, before heading for the refrigerator. “I sure hope Mom was the one who taught Dylan her manners.”

“She tried,” he said dryly. “Still tryin’ to decided on whether it took or not.” He came over to the island and pulled one of the slices out before asking, “Where is pip?”

Giving him a look, the blonde told him. “My sister sprung her for the night. Apparently Dawn doesn’t understand the concept of grounding meaning that the child does not leave the house.”

He couldn’t help but shake his head. Leave it to the Bit to completely ignore what he says. She really was more like her sister than she would probably like to admit.

“And Joyce?”

“LA,” Buffy answered simply. “And the others actually went home to their families and lives. So it looks like it might just be me and you tonight.”

She watched as he became suddenly uncomfortable around her, and she panicked for a moment. There was no way she was letting him get away easily tonight, so she did the only thing she could think of. Moving quickly, she went to him, took the pizza away, and pulled him away from the island.

“Slayer? What are you doin’?” he asked, as she lazily draped her arms around his neck and began to once again sway with the music. Unconsciously, he began to move with her.

“Do you know what the last good memory of my parents together I have is?” she asked, jerking her head to throw her long blonde hair over her shoulder. When he continued to look at her as if she had lost her mind, she laid her head on his chest and told him. “I was thirteen, Dawn was eight, and we came home from school one afternoon and heard this song playing all through the house. My mom and dad were in the kitchen dancing to it. He had gotten some promotion or something like that, and had come home early to celebrate. I think that was the last time I actually saw them together without them yelling at one another.”

“Not surprised Joyce is a fan of the Almman Brothers,” he smirked, unintentionally pulling her closer to him.

“Hey, I like this song,” she said in a fake hurt tone. “I don’t care if the singers are named after a nut.”

Spike couldn’t help but laugh at the remark, but he didn’t correct her. God, he could hold her forever if she let him. If he let himself.

After only a moment passed, he heard her say, “Spike.”

“Yeah, love.”

She lifted her head to where her chin was resting on his chest and he was looking down into her hazel eyes that were glowing green. She almost seemed nervous with a bit of shyness as she looked up at him, her mouth slightly opened and her eyes dark like she was waiting for him to kiss her. “Song’s over,” she said lowly, moving slowly upward.

“I noticed,” he said softly just as he felt his lips touch hers.

Her hand came up and gently brushed against his cheek, suddenly reminding him that this was no dream. She was really here, kissing him in the kitchen. It was like that kiss they had shared all those years ago on the front porch, before their lives took that dark turn. Before he lost her. Before he let her die.

He broke the kiss, surprising her as he jerked away from her and her touch. “Spike?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, turning his back on her to look for his coat to make a getaway. Finding it draped across a nearby barstool, he began to pull it on. “I shouldn’t-“

“Spike,” she repeated in the same small voice as she looked at him.

“I should go,” he said more to himself, heading for the back door.

“You don’t love me anymore,” he heard her say softly. Stopping half way out the back door, he turned around quickly. She hadn’t moved from her spot, but she now had her arms held close to her. “Do you?”

Blinking, he stared at her. “Is that what you think?”

Buffy raised her shoulders as if to shrug, then said, “I don’t know to think. You won’t talk to me.” Her shoulders fell while she let out a deep sigh and dropped her head down to where he couldn’t see her face. “I’d understand if you don’t. It’s been seven years for you. But it was just last week for me.” She lifted her head to look at him. “Just please tell me. One way or the other, cause I need to know.”

Spike just stood there. She actually thought he didn’t love her anymore? Like he could ever actually stop?

“It’s not that, pet.”

“Then what is it?” Buffy demanded, sounding so much like the young woman he used to battle against. “Why are you doing the whole eggshell routine around me? You never have before. Hell, not even when I wanted you too!”

“You don’t understand.”

She looked at him for a long time; her face becoming even more like it often did when she was getting ready to slay something. In a determined fashion, she walked towards him, her arms swinging at her sides before she stopped right in front of him. “You’re right, I don’t understand.” Shifting all her weight to one foot, she crossed her arms. “So make me.”

The two stared at one another in a silent battle of wills. This was not something he liked to talk about, but she was more than obvious not going to give on the matter easily. If she had to, she would stand there all night until he told her. They both knew that.

“You want to understand? To get an inside look on what’s goin’ on in my noggin? Well, here it is. I let you die. I loved you more than anyone before, and I stood there and watched you die. I don’t…I don’t deserve you.”

Buffy stood there, her eyes slightly wide with surprise but never leaving his face. For a moment, he couldn’t really tell what she was thinking, but then he saw a flash of lightning behind her eyes as they narrowed in on him.

“How dare you,” she hissed at him starting to move close to him again. He began to back away, but the slayer just kept coming closer. “You don’t get to decide who I deserve. You don’t get to choose who I love.” Spike backed into the wall and Buffy was practically pressed against him before she stopped. “Listen to me very careful, you ex-bleach-blond bloodsucking fiend. I love you. You didn’t let me die that night. You did not cause my death. God, for once, you weren’t the one who killed the slayer, Spike. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Willow’s fault. It wasn’t Eric’s fault. It was that demon, that’s what killed me.”

“I could have stopped him, Buffy. I was right there, I should’ve-”

“Maybe you weren’t meant too,” she cut him off. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe things worked out the way they were supposed too. Maybe…” Her voice trailed off as the odd sensation of clarity washed over her. “I was meant to die.”

He saw the clarity in her eyes. For some reason, the woman he loved actually believed that! “Buffy, you can’t know that.”

She shook her head while she wrapped her mind around this. “No. I think that’s it. I don’t know how I know, but it…feels right. I think I was meant to die that night.”

Moving away from him, she let the epiphany sink in. She knew that was it. It had been fate. And if there was one thing she understood, it was that you can’t change fate. You can fight it, you can delay it, but you can’t change it. Now if only she could make Spike understand.

She looked up to face him again. “It was fate, Spike. You couldn’t have stopped it. No one could have.”

“I don’t believe that, Buffy,” he said sadly, which caused him to jump from shock when she started to laugh. She did so for several seconds, before covering her mouth to calm herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said, drawing in a breath to stop herself from laughing again. “It’s just…all this that you’re clinging to as a reason not to start something, it’s in the past. We can’t change it, and you-you! Mr. Get Over It himself-are the one who can’t.” Her voice once again took on a soft touch. “Well, I for one don’t care what happened seven years ago in the principal’s office at the high school. What I do care about, is that we’ve got a second chance; me and you together, us and Dylan as an actual family. I don’t want to blow it. And I’m not going to let you blow it for me.”

A small smirk spread across his lips before he knew it. He couldn’t help it. There the slayer was, standing before him in all her glory, telling him in no uncertain terms that he better get over whatever hold ups he had for no other reason than she said so. Now that was the woman he remembered falling in love with. He was tired of feeling guilty. If she didn’t care, sod it then.

“That so?” he asked, raising his scarred eyebrow.

A smile found its way to her face as she crossed her arms. “That’s so.”

Making a production of sighing dramatically like he’d actually had to be convinced of all this, Spike pushed away from the wall and walked towards her. “Well, I guess there’s nothin’ I can do or say to change that pretty little mind of yours?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the p while she watched him start to stalk around her. “I’ve decided. It’s law now.”

“That right? Wouldn’t want to break the law now, would I?”

“No, cause then I would have to get upset. And you know how I am when I’m upset.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” he smiled, coming to stop in front of her again, his hand having found its way to her waist and pulling her close to him. He held her there, nose to nose, before saying, “Guess there’s nothin’ to do now that make up for those seven years we missed, eh, love?”

“Don’t you have patrol to be running off to right about now?” Buffy asked in a teasing tone.

“Not anymore,” Spike answered before he kissed her for a second time that night.

**********

Sebastian walked quietly down the sidewalk of the dark street next to his grandfather, his hands dug deep into his pockets and his head down. The streets really weren’t that busy this time of night, most of the people having gone home to their nice warm beds and loved ones. Usually there were only some local college students or rowdy teenagers that dared to be out this late, and they were usually plastered. At this time of night, there were only two kinds of people out; the hunters and the prey.

Up head, the sounds of sinister laughter were approaching the two. Sebastian lifted his head slightly to find a small group of what looked to be college students coming at them. There were four of them, three boys and a girl who had her arms draped over the man next to her. They looked like they had taken their clothing style advice from the Matrix movies, and Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder how many cows had to die to make their form fitting outfits.

The group stopped before the old man and boy, and their smiles became even more evil if that was at all possible.

“Well, what do we have here?” the male who had his arms around the girl asked, as they moved around Sebastian and his grandfather to block their way. The man ran his tongue over his blunt teeth while he looked from the old man to the boy like they were a meal on legs. “Bit late to be out with Junior here. Ain’t it, Grandpa?”

When the two refused to answer, the woman continued to taunt, “Oh, honey, I think we’re scaring them. Maybe we should just let them go.”

“Or maybe we should scare them even more,” the man answered before shifting into game face with a growl. The other three followed his example, all turning their burning yellow eyes towards the two.

Almost lazily, Sebastian turned his head upwards towards his grandfather, silently asking for permission. A slight nod was his answer. Stupid vampires didn’t even know what hit them. There was nothing but blood, breaking bones, and dust until the only one left was the leader of the little group that had been obliterated.

He fell back hard onto the ground as Sebastian stood over him, stake raised and face even.

“What the hell are you?” the vampire demanded nervously. But the boy didn’t answer him, just drove the stake quickly into his heart, causing a pillow of dust to explode around his feet.

“Very good, Sebastian,” his grandfather said with a very pleased look on his face. “But you shouldn’t take as long in dusting them like the last one. Remember, it’s better not to talk to them; else you might let them spin their lies in your mind. They are demons; they do not have the option of last words.”

The two began to walk down the sidewalk again, going right back to the boy having his head lowered and gripping tightly onto the stake in his coat pocket. “Yes, Grandfather.”

**********

(Hey, guys. Okay, first, a quick disclaimer, I don’t own ‘Soulshine’; The Almman Brothers own it. Also I like to say sorry that it took so long to get out this chapter, but sometimes real life gets in the way. And, with my schedule for school this semester, looks like these long waits between chapters might become more and more frequent. Wish it wasn’t like that, but, hey, that’s college for you. I also wanted to put in a plug for Haley Teague’s “Deciding Destiny.” It’s really good guys, so go check it out. Well, guess that’s about it. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please review. Thanks.)

“Oww,” Dylan said in a whimper as she tried to brush out a rat’s nest entangled in her hair. Stupid curly hair. Why couldn’t she have straight hair like Jessie? It had to be easier to take care of.

“Hey,” a voice said from her doorway.

The young girl turned around in her seat to find Buffy was leaning there, her arms crossed and a small smile on her face. She had been back for about a month now, and things had actually started to seem almost normal again. Dylan’s suspension had been lifted and she was back in school, Dawn and Connor had just goten through midterms, and Giles was still knee deep in research thanks to the new shipment the Magic Box had just received last week. Yup, everything was right with the world once more.

The only thing that had changed that Dylan could see was that her parents-geez that sounded strange to say-were actually happy and together. Her Aunt Dawn had practically squealed in delight when she found out, and Gram had just smiled. The others, well…some took it better than others.

Oz had just said “Oh” and that was the end of it with him.

Willow started to stutter on about how if ‘Buffy thought this was a good idea’ and then proceeded to back track in favor of being the supportive friend because ‘If it made her happy, she’d be cool with it.’

Grandpa Giles had pretty much looked at the two, shook his head, and muttered something about ‘Her taste in men is going to be the death of me yet.’

Anya just shrugged and said ‘About time.’

And Xander, well…

Dylan knew that the English language was full of obscenities, she had heard her father use most of them on more then one occasion, but she had no idea that it would be possible to fit all of them into one sentence. Well, she thought he had used all of them; she missed some of it when Willow had wrapped her hands around her ears to try and keep her from hearing. Not that it worked that well.

He only shut up when Anya had started to yell at him for using that kind of language in front of the children. It was kind of funny though, that look on Jessie’s face and when Cash had looked up at his mother and asked, ‘Mommy, what’s a no good, shit for brains, mother fu-?’ That was all he had been able to get out before Andrew had wrapped his hand around the boy’s mouth. The shop keep might be a bit clueless, but he knew that was not something Anya would want her three-year-old son repeating. Dylan had actually been surprised Xander had lived to see another day after that.

Things were pretty cool between them now, but she could tell Xander didn’t like the idea of her parents together. Not that she was exactly thrilled about it either. It was just too weird. She was still trying to get used to the idea that this was Buffy and her mother, but, at the same time, she kept feeling like her mother was still dead and her dad was cheating on her with someone who just looked like her. Ugh, all that thinking was making her head hurt.

“Need some help?” the blonde woman asked, pushing away from the doorframe and walking up behind the child.

Dylan watched her reflection in the mirror as Buffy stood behind her, then sighed as she handed her the brush. Buffy smiled sweetly like Gram often did, then proceeded to comb the child’s hair.

“Dad still yelling about how he hates this ‘soddin’ holiday?’” she asked, causing her mother to look up from her hair and at her face in the mirror.

“Yeah,” she said with a tightly controlled smile on her face. “And don’t use that kind of language.”

Halloween, the undead’s favorite holiday. Dylan still wasn’t clear on why they didn’t like it, but she sure did. It was the only night a year she could get dressed up as anything she wanted and stock pile up on sugary goodness. Well, according to Anya, they were actually extorting candy out of people, but she didn’t care. She was going to have enough sugar running through her veins that for the next couple of days she would probably bleed syrup.

This year, she had decided to go as an angel. Hey, all those boring prophecies her Grandpa Giles had called her that anyway, might as well see what she would look like as one. Besides, she had learned long ago that people, especially the older ones, gave more generous candy portions to children that went as cute things instead of scary or gross. That was also the reason Jessie had told her that she would be going as a ballerina this year. The only one they hadn’t convinced of their plan had been Van, who just rolled his eyes at the two. She wasn’t sure what he’d go as this year, but she was sure that it would probably gross them out and scare old people. Well, he wasn’t getting any more of her candy, that was for sure.

“Why does Dad hate Halloween?” Dylan asked innocently, her face eyebrows scrunched together in true confusion.

Buffy looked for a second time to her daughter’s reflected face. She had asked him that once herself, back when they were trotting around Europe while she was still pregnant with the girl in front of her. He had snorted at her then went on about how would she feel if all the undead and demons decided one day that on Arbor Day they would all get dressed up like humans and go from door to door demanding blood and kittens.

“You’ll have to ask him,” the blonde answered, pulling the child’s hair back into a pony tail to get it out of her face. Dylan was such a pretty girl; she shouldn’t try and hide her face. And when had she started to channel her Grandma Rose?

“I did once,” Dylan confessed. “But he just kept talking about Arbor Day for some reason.” Buffy bit down on the inside of her cheek. So the illustration lives on. “Buffy, can I ask you something?” the seven-year-old went on, not noticing her mother’s reaction.

The slayer’s heart sank a little. Why couldn’t she call her Mom? Hell, she would even settle for slayer right now. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Go ahead.”

The child shifted around in her seat to where she was looking up at Buffy’s face. She had that look on her face that Spike sometimes got that said ‘This is important, please don’t lie to me because I can tell if you are.’ “Do you love my Dad?”

The slayer pondered the question for a moment, but not because she didn’t know the answer. She loved Spike, she told him that and the others, besides Xander, seemed to have known before her. Telling Dylan would actually be the first time that she admitted to someone else that she did love him, which felt kind of strange, but right that it should be their daughter.

Kneeling down in front of the child that was dressed like an angelic being, Buffy slowly nodded her head and said, “I love your dad. I have for long time.”

“Did you before I was born?” the child asked. There really wasn’t any hint of hopefulness in the question, just childish curiosity, but Buffy knew if she answered honestly that it would probably just hurt Dylan.

“Does it really matter?” the slayer asked instead, hoping that would answer the question by not answering the question.

“No,” Dylan shrugged slightly. Shyly, the seven-year-old got to the heart of what had been on her mind lately. “So, if you love him and he loves you, then I guess you’re not goin’ anywhere for awhile?”

Buffy blinked at the child. Is that what she thought? That she was just going to get up and leave her again someday? No wonder she had been so distant to her.

“No!” she assured her almost furiously in an attempt to make the girl believe. “Dylan, even if me and your dad…Honey, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you.”

The child gave a humorless snort as she turned away from her mother’s eyes. “Gram say’s you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said barely above a whispered.

Buffy shook her head, desperately trying to think of a way to reassure what she had said. They’d never get anywhere if Dylan didn’t believe her. There had to be a way.

Her hazel eyes lit up for a moment as an idea popped into her head. “Stay right here,” she ordered, jumping up from her spot in front of the little girl and heading out of the room. When she returned a moment later, she had something hidden in her hand and ordered, “Turn around.”

Giving her mother a confused look, Dylan shifted around in her seat to where she was looking at their reflections again. A rather large cross necklace slipped from between Buffy’s fingers, and hung in front of the seven-year-old before the older blonde began to put it on her.

“This was given to me a very long time ago by an old friend of mine. He gave it to me to let me know that he’d always be there watching over me even if I didn’t see him,” Buffy informed the child as she fastened the chain’s lock. Placing her hands on the child’s shoulders, the mother looked up at her daughter’s face that was reflecting in the mirror. “I want you to have it.”

Dylan’s fingers lightly traced over the piece of jewelry that hung around her neck. It really was a bit to large for a child, and the chain was too long, but it somehow seemed to look right on the little blonde girl. Buffy smiled as Dylan grinned her approval of the gift.

“Buffy! Dylan!” Dawn called from below. “Xander and the others are here!”

Buffy’s smile almost turned mischievous as she looked into the mirror and said, “Come on. Let’s go get you hyped up on sugary goodness until Thanksgiving.”

**********

Sebastian stood across the street, watching the house that sat on what looked like a typical street in what was thought to be typical town in California. But he knew the town and the house were anything but. The Hellmouth coursed though this city, devouring every part of it like a cancer, and the only possible treatment lived right inside that two story house. So much for being typical.

He had been standing there for most of the afternoon, going unnoticed or ignored by the people who lived on the street that was now over run with children in costumes. The boy himself had on a red demon mask, with a black shirt and jeans to complete the look. He felt kind of silly dressed like this, but it helped him fit in on Halloween. Not to mention that if they saw him they wouldn’t know what he actually looked like.

He watched as the carpenter and his family arrived, then left with the slayer’s younger sister and her boyfriend for some party that he had seen was being held at the Bronze.

The slayer and her vampire were next to go; unlike the others they were not dressed up. Grandfather had said that they might do this, go on a quick patrol instead of going out. Something about the undead hating this holiday, but they really weren’t his concern. He had someone else in mind at the moment than that sorry excuse for a slayer and her pet vampire.

Finally, the children came out of the house with the Watcher and the Slayer’s mother. There were four children with them, two girls and two boys, and Sebastian didn’t even have to think to know which one of the girls was the one he wanted. She was speaking with the ballerina, showing her something that hung around the angel’s neck. While the brown-haired girl inspected the jewelry, the blonde girl lifted her eyes towards Sebastian and looked him dead in the face as they walked by.

For a moment, the boy panicked, wondering if she knew why he was there and what was about to happen to her. Part of him hoped she did; hoped she would grab the Watcher’s arm, point him out and put a stop to this before it started. If she did, so much pain could be speared all around. But she didn’t. Instead, she smiled at him, then turned back to her friend.

She didn’t know. Why couldn’t she know? Why couldn’t she stop this?

Sighing, Sebastian followed them into night, praying for forgiveness for what he was about to do.

**********

Dylan stood off to the side, watching as Gram and Grandpa Giles tended to Cash. The little boy had tripped over his own feet and scrapped both knees and palms. Like all children his age, he had begun to cry and it was taking both adults, and lots of bribing with candy, for the child to calm down. She knew she shouldn’t have let him come with them. He had been slowing them down all night, and now had made them stop completely. At this rate, they’d never hit all the houses she and Jessie and Van had so careful chosen for them to go to. Or, if they did, all the good candy would be gone. Man, she couldn’t wait until they would be old enough to go alone.

“Jess, can’t you do something?” Dylan pleaded to her friend.

“I already told him to shut up and quit being such a baby,” the dark haired girl said, crossing her arms in her own aggravation of the child. “Even threatened to microwave his army men if he didn’t stop. Which I’m goin’ to do the second we get home if he doesn’t shut up!”

But hearing his sister’s threat caused him to cry harder, causing more work for Joyce and Giles.

“Yeah, that worked well,” Van put in dryly.

Dylan frowned at the fresh batch of tears that her friend had caused. Great, there goes the Jenson’s house on Fifth Street. Man, and they were going to be handing out full size Hershey bars this year too.

“Jessie, if you are not going to help, please remain quiet,” Giles told the girl in a very controlled voice, but the anger behind it was not lost on Dylan.

Jessie, however, was choosing to ignore it like her father, and opting not to keep her mouth shut like her mother. “He’s the one that won’t be quiet.”

Dylan chose to zone her friend out right about then. And they called her a smart mouth. Shaking her head slightly, she began to look around at the other children in costumes that had taken over the downtown area of Sunnydale. Most had chosen to dress up in traditional costumes of demons and vampires, which Dylan found really amusing considering that she had never actually seen a demon or vampire that looked anything like the ones that were out tonight. Really, with all the demons and vampires running around Sunnydale you’d think that people would actually know what they looked like.

As she scanned the street, she saw him again, the boy who had been outside their home when they left. She had actually seen him a couple of times that night already, first across the street from her house, then down on Maple Street, and again at the Mathis house. Was he following them? That’s kind of strange. Why would a kid be following them?

Dylan glanced back over at her group, which was now alternating between trying to calm Cash down and a semi argument going on between Jessie and Giles. They were far too busy to notice what she would be doing, so, silently, she slipped away from them to find out what this kid in the red demon mask was up to. She’d only be gone a minute, they probably wouldn’t even notice that she was gone. Besides, he was just a kid. What could he do to her?

When he saw her coming, the kid slipped down the alley between two of the stores. A part of Dylan suddenly felt alive as she began to ‘hunt’ down the boy for answers. Her dad had always said there was nothing like the hunt. Even if she wasn’t going to hurt him, that was exactly how this felt at the moment. A hunt, a game, it was all the same, and she was going to be the winner either way.

She slid down the dark alley, wondering momentarily if her white dress would give her away before the fun was over with. But she pushed that thought into the back of her mind as she searched for the boy. He was here, she could feel he was. That was another reason she had to find him. There was something familiar about the boy, something…kindred.

Dylan stopped halfway down the alley and began to look around. Where was he? He couldn’t have just disappeared. Well, this was Sunnydale, he very well could have just disappeared, but it didn’t seem likely. He was watching her from somewhere and the seven-year-old suddenly became very aware that she might not actually be the hunter in all this, but the prey.

She turned to go back and found that the boy she had been looking for was standing right behind her. A scream began in the back of her throat, but all that was able to escape from her was a sharp intake of breath before he backhanded her with his fist. Dylan spun once from the force, then fell to the ground unconscious.

**********

Buffy groaned as she walked in through the back door with Spike close behind. Tonight was an utter bust for demon activity, not that she had actually expected any, but still, this was the Hellmouth after all. Now they were home and apparently the first ones back for the night.

“Anyone home?” the slayer called into the dark house, just to be sure that her instincts were right. When no answer came, she shrugged and pulled off her light weight jacket. “Mom and Giles must still be out with the kids.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at her as his trademark smirk crossed his lips. “So, we have the house to ourselves then, eh?”

Buffy smiled at him, knowing this was probably the real reason he had flat out refused to be talked into going to the party at the Bronze and insisted that they go on patrol instead. Hell, he probably even told her mom to keep Dylan away for a good long while tonight. Really, what was she going to do with him?

“Looks that way,” she said, going into innocent school girl mode. She knew that look on his face. He so had planned this.

He moved quickly across the kitchen, having Buffy pinned against the counter before she knew it. The slayer smiled innocently at him as she gently draped her arms over his shoulders and said, “No Mom, no kids. What on earth shall we ever do?”

“Can’t imagine, love,” he answered before pressing his lips to hers.

Even now, she didn’t know how his cool touch could burn her the way it did. When he kissed her, pouring all his passion and love into it, she would swear he was alive from the heat he gave off. Right now, she would swear she was even hearing bells. Wait a minute, not bells, a ringing. A continuous ringing. Like a telephone.

She broke the kiss, drawing a deep breath into her tight lungs. He was still the only one who could ever do that. “Phone’s ringing,” she said scolding herself for stopping the kiss for something so stupid.

“Machine ’ll catch it,” he said, probably not really having heard what she had told him before moving in to continue what he had started.

Yeah, the machine will get it any second now. Just concentrate on him. Kissing down her cheek and moving to her neck. Doing that nipping thing she liked while continuing to kiss her…just like that damn phone was continuing to ring. Why hasn’t that stupid machine picked up yet?!

“Just…hold that thought,” she said, moving out from under the pin he had her in.

She heard him groaning loudly as she started to grab for the phone. “Someone had bloody well better be dead,” he snapped while she finally was able to make the phone stop ringing.

Buffy shot him a look, before placing the receiver up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Oh, Buffy, thank God I finally found you.”

“Giles? What’s up? Why are you calling?”

The blonde slayer felt herself tense up. Giles wasn’t supposed to be calling her. He was supposed to be out with her Mom and the kids Trick Or Treating. She glanced up at Spike and watched as he also became more ridged at hearing that it was the Watcher calling. Oh, that couldn’t be good.

“It’s Dylan, I’m afraid.” He paused for a moment, allowing a thousand different thoughts to go through Buffy’s mind. What about Dylan? What about her daughter? “She’s gone.”

**********

The End of the Interlude

**********

AN: Apparently I’m taking a note from ME, making you all happy thinking that their together and everything is going to be okay, and then, BAM, I make things bad again. But, hey, at least Buffy and Spike are together and alive-um, well, you know what I mean. So, what’s on the horizon now for our little family? Hum, I foresee lots of travel, a little history, and…oh, that’s interesting. Didn’t see that coming. What do I mean? Find out in the final story in the Weathered Series, Sweet Child.