An Unaccomplished Fate

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: I don’t own most of these characters, and I’m not making any money off of the ones that are mine.

Summary: The sequel to Avocation and Under the Sun. Spike and Buffy’s relationship is on solid ground at last, but a new prophecy threatens everything they hold dear. The bonds of family and friendship will be tested, lives will be threatened, and the entire world will hang on the choice of one vampire.

A/N: Any resemblance to canon is pretty much accidental.

Chapter 30

“Now the Spring is waking,/Very shy as yet,/Busy mending, making/Grass and violet./Frowsy Winter’s over:/See the budding lane!/Go and meet your lover:/Spring is here again!/Every day is longer/Than the day before;/Lambs are whiter, stronger,/Birds sing more and more;/Woods are less than shady,/Griefs are more than vain—/Go and kiss your lady:/Spring is here again!” ~E. Nesbit, “Song (Now the Spring is Waking)”

“I’m glad you talked me out of going to the party,” Tara said softly.

Quinn smiled. “I don’t mean to keep you from your friends.”

“You’re not. I chose to leave.” Tara pulled her in for a kiss. “I wanted to be with you.”

Tara watched as Quinn’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The next kiss was passionate, becoming heated quickly.

Quinn made a noise of protest. “Willow…”

“Willow will be going home with Wesley, if I know her—and I do.” Tara drew her down so that Quinn covered her body. “So, I think you should stay with me. You’ll be safe with me.”

“I believe you.” Quinn’s lips traced the line of her collarbone. “You’re a witch, and a powerful one at that.”

“I’m not so special.”

“You don’t see what I see.” Quinn pulled back, dark eyes intense. “In your eyes, I see something—”

Tara felt her face grow hot. “I don’t—”

“You’re so beautiful.” Quinn’s voice was reverent. “I swear I see something in you that I’ve never seen in anyone else.”

“Maybe because I’m half-demon?” Tara suggested, trying to pass it off as a joke.

Quinn shook her head. “Maybe. But possibly just because it’s you.”

They were both undressed when the phone rang, exploring the other’s body with mouths and hands, flushed with pleasure and the heat of desire. Tara couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so strongly about someone, and she wasn’t happy to be interrupted.

“What?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Tara, but I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be back tonight.” Willow cleared her throat. “I just thought you might want to know. And, um, if you want, I can call Mr. O’Mara.”

“Please.” Tara gasped as Quinn’s mouth closed over her breast, and she glanced down to see the Watcher’s wicked smile. “Please.”

Willow let out a breathy little chuckle. “Will do! Enjoy!”

Tara heard the dial tone a second later. She didn’t think she was going to have a choice about enjoying herself.

~~~~~

Spike relaxed in the afterglow of their lovemaking, trying to recapture the certainty he’d felt earlier in the day while the sword had been in his hand. If Buffy had been sleeping, he might have pulled it out, just to experience it again.

Maybe it was stupid, and destiny was definitely still a bitch, but he felt like he was born to hold that sword.

Still, even with the sword, even knowing that they now had a weapon that would—probably—kill Glory, he felt a sense of foreboding. It was a gut-level instinct, and his gut rarely led him wrong. This new threat, one more thing to deal with it, was probably what had pushed him over the edge.

The robot had seemed nice enough, and it appeared as though all she really wanted was to find Warren, but what if it turned out she was some sort of killer robot? That was the last thing they needed.

“Red is working on it.” Spike wasn’t sure if he was reassuring Buffy or himself. “We’ll stop the robot from tossing anyone through another window.”

“We need to end this.”

He could hear the strain in Buffy’s voice, and he knew that it came from worrying about her family, every day, for months on end. Spike couldn’t blame her; he was feeling stretched thin himself.

“I know.” He paused, his eyes easily parsing the darkness. “Wes found another prophecy relating to the one that started this whole mess.”

Buffy heaved a weary sigh. “What did it say?”

“Said that the vampire with a soul would receive a reward at the end of things. That he would live until he died. Wes thinks it means I’d become human, or something like it.” The answering silence went on so long that Spike began to get nervous. “Buffy?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?”

“That’s not what I asked, Spike.” He felt her shift on the bed next to him, and the lamp clicked on a moment later. “If you became human somehow, would you want to undo it?”

“I don’t know.” Spike sighed, unable to meet Buffy’s eyes. “There’s a lot I could do as a human, and yet…”

“There’s a lot you can do as a vampire.” Buffy finished the sentence for him, then reached out to rub a soothing pattern on his bare chest. “I love you. Human, vampire, it doesn’t matter to me. Granted, I’ll probably worry a little more if you’re not an invincible vampire, but Wesley does okay, and you’re way more of a badass than him.”

Spike laughed. “You’ve got that right.”

Buffy cupped his cheek. “This has something to do with how you were as a human, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t worth much.”

“Well, you’ve changed since then,” Buffy pointed out pragmatically. “I wasn’t worth much before I got all chosen, and you and I both know what I’m like when I don’t have my Slayer powers.”

Spike grinned and refrained from pointing out the obvious—that Buffy had been just as stubborn, and just as prone to getting herself into trouble.

Some unnamed emotion passed over Buffy’s face then. “Promise me when this is over, we’ll get married.”

He frowned, puzzled. “Sure.”

“If we know we’re going to make it through this, we will.” Buffy sounded just a little bit desperate, and Spike wondered if she was feeling the same unease that he was.

For her sake, he pushed down his own fears. “We’re going to make it through this, and we’re going to get married.”

“And live happily ever after?” Buffy prompted.

“That too,” he promised, and he didn’t care that it was likely a lie.

~~~~~

It turned out that Warren was definitely not a common name. Willow had a list within a few hours, and she had that list narrowed down to just a couple of people soon after that. “Now, it’s just a matter of talking to them and figuring out who wanted to build a girlfriend.”

Her announcement was met with a gentle snore from the direction of Wesley’s couch, and she glanced over to see him fast asleep, t-shirt twisted around his chest, and one arm flung over his head.

Willow smirked, then sighed, realizing that it meant she’d be sleeping alone tonight.

They hadn’t talked about her marriage proposal yet; she hadn’t wanted to push after what had happened with Wesley’s father—and she was definitely going to turn him into something nasty the next time she saw Roger Wyndam-Pryce, with or without Wesley’s approval. The man deserved to have really horrible things done to him.

Hearing Roger’s words, his answer to Wesley’s question, had caused Willow to be more grateful than ever for her distant parents. Sometimes indifference was better than interest.

With a sigh, Willow grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch, ready to cover him up, when Wesley stirred and opened his eyes. “Will?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the information Buffy needed. We don’t need to do anything about it until tomorrow.”

Confusion was written over his face. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, you did,” she said tenderly. “Come on. If you sleep on the couch, you’re going to get a knot in your neck.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yep, but we can’t do anything about it until tomorrow.” She glanced at the clock. “Or, well, you know. For a few hours.” Willow led him to bed, watching as he stripped down to his boxers. She wondered briefly at the fact that she knew every scar on his body, she knew all the little noises he made in his sleep, and the way his eyelashes curled.

Two years before, Willow never would have given Wesley a second thought—and now she couldn’t see herself with anyone else. Funny how life worked.

She let him pull her close, feeling him nuzzle her shoulder as he slipped back down into sleep again, with her following soon after.

~~~~~

Giles glanced up as the bell over the door of the bookstore rang, and Anya breezed in. “Hello, Giles.”

“Oh, good. Would you mind looking through these receipts? The books are off somewhere, and I can’t figure out where the mistake is.” Giles handed the log to Anya. “And I’ll be leaving a little earlier today. It’s my turn to pick Thomas up.”

Anya gave him a sharp look. “Is it worth it?”

“Is what worth it?”

“Having a child?”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Are you and Xander planning to start a family, or—”

“No, it’s just with so much danger, and everyone has been talking about the Council and the Knights, and Glory, I just wondered if it was worth it. Wouldn’t it be easier if you didn’t have a child?”

Giles thought about not having Thomas for all of two seconds before he answered with a definitive, “It’s worth it.”

“Really?” Anya didn’t sound convinced, and Giles couldn’t blame her. Before Thomas was born, he had thought he’d known what it was to be a parent. Although it was true that he loved Buffy like his own daughter, what he felt for Thomas was different in a way that couldn’t be put into words.

“Really. When you have children, you’ll understand.” Giles smiled, remembering all the occasions someone had said the same thing to him; he’d hated it every time.

Anya opened her mouth to respond—or to argue, which was more likely—when the front windows of the shop burst open. Giles pulled Anya down behind the counter, feeling shards of glass hit his tweed jacket. Better than Kevlar, he thought as he heard the shouts behind him.

“Run, out the back,” he hissed. “Get Buffy.”

He could hear her swallow. “There are too many.”

“I’ll take care of that. You run.” Giles launched himself over the counter, cursing middle-aged bones and muscles that no longer responded as they had when he was a young man. There were four men there, dressed all in black, and he had no trouble recognizing their origin.

Giles thought it somewhat odd that they hadn’t even considered the possibility that the Council would come after him, although he thought that perhaps they should have expected it. As the Slayer’s Watcher, he would likely know the location of the Key.

And knowing the Council, they knew exactly how they were going to make him talk.

~~~~~

Anya couldn’t help but hate herself a little bit for running like that, but she knew why Giles made her go. The men in black would have been able to hold him for hours before anyone knew if she had stayed. She didn’t know how Giles had managed to hold them off for long enough to allow her to run, but she’d escaped out the back entrance.

She hadn’t stopped to look back, not wanting to see what had happened to Giles, and fearing that it would slow her down.

Anya ran in her perfectly practical heels—practical for working in the shop, at least, but not for running. After a couple of blocks, she kicked them off and picked them up—no sense in wasting a good pair of shoes—and went straight for Xander’s work.

Xander would know what to do, and he would find the map, and that would tell them where they were taking Giles, and he could tell Buffy and Spike, and they would mount a rescue operation, and everything would be okay.

Anya took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts and ease the stitch in her side. She wasn’t used to running like this. And she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t think about what was happening to Giles. She liked Giles; he was a good employer, and he didn’t mind it too much when she mentioned her and Xander’s activities, and he didn’t get mad when she made inappropriate comments around the customers.

Although he did clean his glasses a lot.

She was forced to slow down as she approached Xander’s worksite. There was glass and debris on the sidewalk around the construction area, and she had to put her shoes back on.

Glancing around, Anya realized that Xander was probably inside somewhere, and she suspected that while this was a family emergency, anyone she talked to would want to know details. And she definitely couldn’t give out details.

“An?”

Xander’s voice had never been so welcome. He came trotting over from the trailer on the site, looking sweaty and delicious—and Anya hated herself a little bit more for noticing those things at such an inappropriate time.

“Xander!” She flung her arms around his neck, needing to feel his warm bulk. “We need the map.”

He pulled back, holding her at arm’s length, looking her up and down to be sure she wasn’t hurt. “You have a cut on your cheek,” he observed.

“It’s Giles,” Anya said, shaking her head impatiently. The cut didn’t hurt; it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. “They took him.”

Xander put an arm around her shoulders, leading her outside of the gate to the site for a little privacy. They were beginning to draw a crowd, his co-workers staring at them with concern and interest in their expressions. Anya sensed that they were hungry for gossip, and that Xander didn’t want to give it to them.

“Who took him?” he demanded in a low voice.

Anya swallowed, trying to get her breath back. She realized that her lungs were burning, and her legs were beginning to feel very weak. “The Council. He made me run.”

“You did the right thing,” Xander said immediately, apparently sensing her need for reassurance. “Just—stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He jogged back towards the trailer, leaving Anya to stand outside the perimeter, hugging herself tightly.

She had done the right thing. Anya just wished that she felt better.