[# 68. The third Buffy the Slayer Vampire story. In this one, the Council of Watchers has discovered that Buffy is a vampire, and, of course, can't allow a vampire with Slayer abilities to exist, so they make an assault on her house. The violence gives it a PG rating.]

1 Jan 2005

“Willow,” she said, with a bit of a tremble in her voice, “Do you remember the barrier you put up around that gas station when the Knights of Byzantium were after us?”

“Yeah.”

“How long will it take you to put up another one?”

“Another one, why?”

Before Buffy could answer, the house went dark.

“What’s going on?” Willow asked.

Then suddenly there was a crash and the sound of broken glass from upstairs.

“BUFFY!” They heard Dawn scream. “BUFFY! HELP ME!”

“We need that wall up!” Buffy shouted as she bounded from the bottom of the stairs to the top in one leap. With her Slayer/vamp vision, she had no trouble seeing in the almost total darkness.

Buffy kicked open the door to Dawn’s room and found a dark figure standing by her bed, holding her by the hair. When he looked up at her Buffy could see he was wearing night vision goggles, and some kind of weapon, small, like an Uzi.

He immediately began shooting in her direction. The sounds of the firing was muffled; the gun had a silencer on it.

Buffy felt bullets ripping into her shoulders, upper chest and arms.

Ignoring the pain she jumped at the man with a one-legged drop kick, propelling him back out of the shattered window.

Even as she heard the thump when he hit the ground, there were other crashes; three more windows were being assaulted.

“Under the bed!” She loudly whispered to Dawn as she heard the sounds of a struggle coming from her bedroom, where Xander and Anya were sleeping.

When she burst through the connecting door, Xander and Anya were blindly fighting off the second intruder. Both were naked.

As she went to rescue them, somewhere in the back of her mind, Buffy realized that as long as she had known Xander, she had never seen him naked, and, knowing Xander wore a size eleven shoe, also realized that the old cliché about shoe size had some merit to it after all.

‘Lucky Anya,’ she thought.

With one punch to the side of the man’s head, he was no longer a threat, and she threw him back out of the window.

“Under the bed,” she said.

She paused, listening, and heard two more sets of footsteps, one in Willow’s room and one in the bathroom.

Buffy raced into the hallway only to be met by more gunfire as both intruders were standing in the doorway of the two rooms shooting almost point blank at her. She was thrown backward as the torrent of bullets ripped into her, some lodging in her body, others tearing completely through her to be embedded into the wall behind her.

Fighting off almost crippling pain and nausea, Buffy slammed the door, the re-entered Dawn’s room and exited through the other door into the hall. From there she could see the bathroom doorway, but not the shooter.

One of them rounded the corner, but before he could fire, Buffy grabbed the blistering hot barrel of the gun, pulled him to her and snapped his neck. Then using him as a shield, held him up in front of her as she went after the fourth man.

From the bathroom, a hail of bullets met them, many bouncing off the body armor the man was wearing. Buffy threw her human shield into the bathroom and into the shooter. And before he could recover, she had tossed both of them through the bathroom window.

There were six helicopters but only four men had assaulted the house. She listened intently, trying to hear if maybe they were in the attic or on the roof, but there was only deafening silence after the chaos of the previous three minutes. Even the sounds of the helicopters were gone.

Buffy felt/saw a brief flash of light go through her as the mystic barrier encircled the house; Willow had finally done it.

Satisfied that it was over, Buffy started to call out for Dawn, but the shock of being riddled with so many bullets overcame her superhuman strength and she collapsed in the doorway of the bathroom.

After another half minute, Dawn tentatively, and quietly called out to Buffy. When there was no answer, she called to Xander.

“I’m here, Dawn. Are you okay?”

“I - I think so. Where’s Buffy? Is she okay?”

“We don't know.”

“Someone should find a flashlight, or something.” Anya said.

“I’ve got one!” Dawn exclaimed. “It’s around here somewhere.”

“Hey!” Willow yelled from downstairs. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine!” Xander yelled back. “Is Buffy down there?”

“No! She’s not up there?”

“It’s too dark. Dawn’s looking for a flashlight now. Is there one down there?”

“In the kitchen. I’ve got some candles, too.”

“Found it!” Dawn shouted out.

Dawn met Xander and Anya, who had hurriedly put on their clothes, in the hallway. Dawn shined the light toward the stairs, then to the bathroom, where they saw Buffy lying on the floor. The countless bullet holes in her body and blood all over her and the floor made them gasp in horror and shock.

“Buffy!” Dawn and Xander both cried out as they went to her.

“Is she . . . ?” Dawn asked fearfully.

“No.” Anya stated matter-of-factly. “Vamps can’t die from bullet wounds. Hurts like hell, though. She’s probably just in shock.”

Xander picked up the seemingly lifeless Buffy.

“Shine a light down the stairs.” He directed. “There’s too much broken glass up here.”

As they got to the bottom, Willow met them with a flashlight of her own.

“The kitchen,” she said, “Put her on the counter.”

Xander gently laid Buffy down and Dawn rolled up a dish towel to use for a pillow.

“She has some of those damned bullets inside her!” Xander diagnosed. “We need to get them out of her, somehow.”

No one volunteered.

“We need to call an ambulance.” Dawn said. “She has to go to the hospital.”

“Can’t do that, Dawny.” Willow said. “The house is surrounded with the barrier. And we don't dare go out anyway, not with those storm troopers waiting for us.”

Buffy moaned, then began to stir.

For a half minute they watched her, waiting, hoping that she’d wake up.

She moaned a couple more times, then her eyes fluttered open.

“Buffy? Are you okay?” Dawn asked. “We’re all here, and we’re fine. You saved us.”

Buffy looked over toward Dawn’s voice, but her eyes were glazed over. She smiled faintly and nodded, then her eyes closed again.

“We need to let her rest.” Willow said. “Her body needs time to heal itself.”

“What about those bullets inside her?” Dawn asked.

“We can take them out later. They can’t do any  harm.”

For the next six hours, until well after sunrise, Buffy was never alone. Dawn, Willow and Xander only catnapped in turn in the over-stuffed arm chair in the living room, then returned to the kitchen to keep a vigil. 

Anya had stretched out on the sofa and slept soundly.

It was a little after 8 when Buffy woke up again. Her wounds had healed, leaving the barest hint of scars.

Buffy sat up on the counter and looked around.

“Everyone’s all right?”

“We’re all fine. You’re the one who got hurt.” Willow answered.

“Where’s Spike?”

“He’s not here. He left yesterday, right after it got dark. Said he had to get out for a while, something about cabin fever.”

“I think he went after some human blood, since you got him back on the hard stuff.” Anya said.

“He can’t be out there! We have to go after him! They’ll get him for sure! They’ll . . . .”

“There’s nothing we can do, Buffy, nothing TO do.” Xander interrupted. “It’s daylight. Spike will be holed up somewhere, and they will be waiting for us to go out. Like it or not, right now, this is the safest place we can be.”

“Xander, show Buffy those bullets you found upstairs.” Anya said, changing the subject.

Xander took one out of his pocket and handed it to Buffy.

“What kind of bullet is this?” she asked.

“Beats me. It’s not steel or lead. It feels like wood, but it’s too heavy to be wood.”

“I bet it’s ironwood.” Dawn said.

“Ironwood? What’s that?”

“I had to do an essay on it in biology class last year. It’s from a tree that’s only found in the Sonoran desert, which takes in parts of southeast California, New Mexico and Old Mexico. The wood is so hard and dense it won’t even float.”

“Which makes it perfect to use in machine guns to kill vampires.” Xander surmised.

“The trees can live for over two thousand years.” Dawn continued. “However, the they don't respond well to coppicing. Larger trees are usually killed by this practice, and recovery of younger trees is very slow.”

“OKAY, Brainiac!” Anya exclaimed. “We don't need a complete rundown on the sex life of some tree.”

“It’s got nothing to do with sex! It’s just cutting down most of the tree to make the wood re-grow to be harvested over and over.”

“Uh, guys, I think you’re missing the point here!” Willow said, very agitated. “If one of these bullets had even grazed Buffy’s heart she would have - died! And considering how many bullets ripped into her, she was damned lucky none of them did! We’re ALL lucky!”

The realization stunned them into silence.

“But I’m fine now.” Buffy said as she hopped down from the counter. “Even with the ones still in me.”

“Y - you know they’re . . . HOW?”

“I can feel them. I know how many and exactly where they are. Maybe one day we can get around to cutting them out. But right now we have more important things to worry about. Like where Spike is, and how much longer it will be until the air runs out inside this mystical barricade Willow has us sealed up in.”

“You mean we’re still going to die, only slowly and in agonizing suffocation?” Anya asked.

“Uh, Buffy, I think there’s something maybe you all should know. There is no barricade. It - uh, disappeared a little while ago.”

“Disappeared? But how? You should have enough power to keep it up indefinitely.”

“Yeah, I know, ordinarily, but I think it was dissolved by witches, maybe by a whole coven of really powerful ones. Maybe even . . . .”

“You mean the ones Giles got his power from? The very same ones who saved you from yourself?” Anya asked.

“I think so. Just as it dissolved I thought I sensed something familiar, somehow.”

“And you’re just telling us about this NOW?” Xander said.

“Well, we were discussing other things, important things, and I figured that they wouldn't do anything in broad daylight and risk the neighbors seeing anything.”

“Willow’s right. They won’t do anything until after dark. And Xander’s right, also. We can’t risk going out. We need to call Giles to see if he’s all right.”

“We tried, the phone’s dead, and I think they’re jamming the cell phones, too. And I suppose it’s only a matter of time before they find a way to cut off the water.” Xander was full of good news.

“Okay then, it’s time to start making plans. First - Willow, is there ANY way you can get the barrier up by sundown? And keep it up?”

“I can try.”

“No! Either you can or you can’t. Now, which is it?”

“I’ll do my best, that’s all I can promise.”

Buffy looked hard at Willow for a few moments.

“Okay, do what you can. Xander, the upstairs, what does it look like?”

“Four windows are broken. One in your room, one in Dawn’s, the one in Willow’s room, and the one in the bathroom.”

“We need to board up those, and all the other ones, too, in case they try it again tonight. For now we’ll go on the assumption that Willow may not be able to raise the barrier. Xander, I want you, Dawn and Anya to go down into the cellar and find anything you can to cover those windows. Tear apart the shelves, anything. And after that, stack everything in front of them - the beds, dressers, everything.”

Xander and Dawn headed toward the cellar door.

“Willow, if they’re using Giles’ coven, then more than likely he’s being held hostage to make them do what the Council wants.”

“Make sense.” Anya said. “That’s what I’d do.”

“You’d sell out your own mother, if you had ever one.” Willow said angrily.

“HEY!” Anya shot back, becoming angry herself.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Xander?”

“But the cellar’s all dark, and dirty.”

“And I’ll throw you down the stairs if you don't . . . .”

“Okay! I’m going.”

“I guess I should go focus my energies to try to get that barrier back up.”

“Just a minute, Willow. I need to know how they could neutralize it so easy. Surely, as far away as they are, their powers shouldn’t be that strong. Just how many of them were there?”

“Ten, maybe more. But those women are strong, Buffy. Individually, not as strong as I am, but collectively, they have real staying power. They can keep up the assault on any mystical barricade I put up until I’m exhausted.”

“So how long will it take them to wear you out?”

“I’m not really sure, a few hours, maybe more. But I know I won’t be able to keep it up all night.”

“Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe those - soldiers, won’t know when it goes down.”

“Unless they call to tell them. The coven will know just as soon as it disappears.”

Buffy didn’t answer, she was thinking, trying to come up with another defense.

“There’s something else.” Willow said.

“What now?”

“Xander said he thought those guys were wearing body armor. Wouldn’t it be a good idea if you had some?”

“Probably, but when I threw them out of the windows, the armor went with them. All we have is one of their guns, with no bullets in it, and one of the night vision masks.”

It took almost half the day to tear apart the shelves in the cellar, lug them up to the second floor, and get them nailed in place. Xander even used the slats supporting the box springs. Afterward, the mattresses, box springs, dressers and chest of drawers were stacked in front of the windows.

It might not stop them altogether,” Xander said, admiring his handiwork. “But it’ll sure slow them down some.”

Buffy allowed them an hour to rest, and to eat up as much of the food in the refrigerator and freezer before it spoiled. The milk and ice cream went first.

“Next, we need to cover the windows downstairs, and make sure the front and back doors are secure.” Buffy told them. “And everything needs to be done before dark.”

By sunset everything that could be done, was.

“You guys need some sleep. I don't think we have to worry about any attack until early morning, maybe around three or four. They’ll probably think we’ll be sitting up all night expecting them to hit us at any moment and will be exhausted.”

“Buffy?” Dawn said, almost afraid to ask her question.

“What is it, Dawn?”

“You don't think they’ll burn down the house, do you?”

“I don't know what they’ll do, but we can’t rule out anything.”

“And just where are we supposed to sleep?” Anya asked. “There are no beds.”

“Sleep anywhere. We have plenty of sheets, blankets and towels. Make pallets on the floor; use the sofa cushions for a mattress. I don't care what you use, but do it in the dining room.”

After the three of them left the living room, Buffy pulled the coffee table over to the big stuffed arm chair where Willow had been meditating and focusing her energies.

Buffy sat on the table and put her hands softly on Willow’s knees.

“Hey, how’s it going?” she asked gently.

Willow slowly opened her eyes and smiled a humorless smile.

“Okay.” She answered then started to close her eyes again, but Buffy shook one knee.

“We need to talk, Will. I need to know everything you know, everything you suspect, everything there is. I need to know what to expect, and what not to.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about the witches. Are you sure they can’t be convinced not to cooperate with the Council?”

“Well, I’ve been kind of flitting around the periphery of their auras, hoping they wouldn’t know I was there. Most of them I recognized, but there are others I don't know. So, either they’re the ones I never met, or are some that the Council brought in to either help, or to make sure the others do what the Council wants them to, namely, to counteract my magic.”

“I’d bet on the second one.”

Willow nodded in agreement.

“What about Giles? Anything at all about him?”

“Not much, just vague, barely perceptible hints. Not even hints, really, just elusive feelings. I got the impression that he was being held somewhere, shielded from being discovered by magical means.”

“Well, I’m sure the Council has ample resources, mystical resources, at their beck and call.”

“That almost goes without saying.”

“Okay, now for the big question - can they keep you from erecting another barrier?”

“Well, since they won’t know when I’m going to do it, then I say no.”

“And it will take a while, a few hours, before they can dissolve it?”

“Yeah, a few hours, maybe longer. It just depends on how many they use against me.”

“So, after it’s down, how long will it take to put up another one?”

“Probably not very long. But the problem is that considering how drained I’ll be, it won’t be nearly as strong, which means it’ll be easier to take down than the first one.”

“So what if you kind of pulse it? You know , put it up for a few minutes, then let it down just long enough for them to attack, them pop it back up again.”

“It doesn't work like that. It’s not like just flipping a switch on and off. It takes time to make it work, what with the chanting and all.”

Buffy was becoming exasperated, and was running out of ideas.

“Maybe you should try to get some sleep, too. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Willow nodded then laid her head back and closed her eyes.

Buffy silently walked the upstairs, going from room to room, checking and rechecking Xander’s work. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

Then she went up into the attic. There was no access from the outside, but she wanted to make sure no one had tried to break through the night before when she was preoccupied fighting off the four men who had crashed through the windows.

Back downstairs, Buffy walked throughout the first floor as she had done the second. There was nothing else that could be done with the materials they had on hand. She quietly went around Xander and Anya, cuddled close together in the middle of the now-empty dining room, and Dawn not far from them.

Buffy looked at her wristwatch -- 1:45 a.m.

‘Another couple of hours,’ she thought. ‘It should all be over, one way or another.’ She wasn’t especially optimistic about the outcome.

Getting up from the chair she looked into the dining room to see Xander, Anya and Dawn still sleeping.

She walked into the kitchen where Buffy was standing with the back door open, staring into the back yard.

“What’s going on?” Willow asked quietly, not wanting to wake the others.

“Apparently, nothing.” Buffy answered.

“There was no attack?”

“No. There was nothing. I’ve been waiting all night, expecting something, and nothing happened.”

“Aren’t you kind of tired, being up all night?”

Buffy smiled. “Creature of the night, remember?”

“Do you think it’s over?”

“Right now I don't know what to think. But I know it’s not over.”

Willow stared out of the back door with Buffy for a minute, watching as the sun began to shine through the trees, making dappled patterns on the lawn.

“What are we lookin’ at?”

“Nothing. Just wondering what it would feel like, being incinerated by the sun. Think it would hurt much?”

“Oh, Buffy, no! You’re not thinking . . . ?”

“No, of course not. Well, the thought did cross my mind while I was thinking about how much danger all of you are in while I’m still around, and if I were gone the Council wouldn’t have any reason to come after you guys anymore; you’d all be safe.”

“NO! You will not even BEGIN to think thoughts like that! You will NOT sacrifice yourself just because you think we’d be better off, because we WON’T!”

“We won’t what?” Xander asked as he joined them.

“Be better off if Buffy lets herself get reduced to ashes up by taking a walk into the backyard.”

“WHAT! Are you crazy? Why would you even consider something like that?”

“It was just a thought. I wasn’t going to do it, not really. Not yet.”

Xander’s outburst woke up Anya and Dawn who the joined the rest of them in the kitchen as Willow closed the back door and locked it.

“Now what?” Anya asked, irritated. “I was having a really good dream about . . . .”

“Nobody cares about your dreams, Anya. Zip it!” Willow was in no mood to hear anything from her.

“Well, excuse me for . . . .”

“Please, Anya,” Buffy said in a gentler tone than Willow’s. “Not right now.”

“Fine.” She answered as she went to the counter and opened a package of grape Pop Tarts for breakfast.

“There was no attack last night?” Dawn asked unnecessarily.

“No. And I don't know why.”

“Maybe they’re just trying to lull us into some kind of false security. Maybe they think we’ll let our guard down.” Xander speculated.

“Very possible.” Buffy agreed.

“I guess that means I’ll have another day to build up my magic reserves.” Willow said to no one in particular.

Buffy was about to answer when the front doorbell rang.

Everyone looked at the other in complete surprise.

“Now that’s something you don't see everyday - your enemies ringing the doorbell.” Xander quipped.

“Then let’s let them in.” Buffy said on her way to the front door.

“WAIT!” Willow shouted. “Let me answer it. You know - wooden bullets.”

Willow unlocked and slowly opened the front door. Standing there waiting was a small boy about seven years old. He handed Willow an envelope.

“That man said to give this to you.”

Then he ran down the walkway to the street and into a waiting black van, which screeched the tires as it raced off.

Willow closed the door and handed the envelope to Buffy as Xander propped the sofa back up against the door.

Buffy slowly tore open the envelope, unfolded the piece of paper and began to read it. After a few moments, she sat down in the living room chair, the letter dangling from her finger tips. There was no expression on her face and she didn’t say a word.

“Well, what’s it say?” Dawn asked.

Willow tentatively took the paper from Buffy and looked at it.

“It’s from the Council of Watchers. Huh! They have their own letter-head stationery.”

“What does it SAY?”

“They have Giles . . . .”

“We knew THAT.” Xander cut in.

“ . . . and Spike . . . and Angel.”

“Well, two out of three ain’t bad.” Xander joked, but when Buffy shot him a cold, angry look, he shut up.

“And they want to trade them for Buffy.”

“Do you think they really have them?” Dawn asked.

“Could be a trick.” Anya said.

“But how can we be sure?”

“We can’t.” Xander said. “We can’t be sure of anything.”

“Maybe we should tell them we want proof, like a photograph.”

“Photos can be doctored up to show anything.” Dawn explained to her.

“Well, then how about a finger. They do it in the movies all the time.”

“And you would know if it really was one of their fingers?” Willow asked, becoming tired of Anya’s constant inane remarks.

"What if we tell them we want to talk to one of them, or all of them, on the phone first?”

“Dawn, the phones don't work.”

“The letter says for Buffy to go to the back of the Bronze, to be there at 4 a.m. tomorrow morning. And to come alone. They say they’ll know, and serious consequences will ensue if she isn’t.” Willow finished reading.

“I don't like it!” Xander exclaimed. “It has ‘trap’ written all over it.”

“Well, DUH!” Willow said. “Of course it’s a trap! It wouldn’t surprise me if they were waiting right outside somewhere. Buffy wouldn’t get half way down the block.”

“So … what do we do?” Dawn asked.

All the while the discussion was going on around her, Buffy was silent, looking at each one as they spoke. Suddenly she stood up, silencing them all as they waited for her say something.

Instead she walked over to Dawn and put her arms around her, who returned the hug.

“I love you.” Buffy whispered in her ear and kissed her on the check.

Next, she went to Xander, who readily returned her hug. He still had feelings for Buffy that had begun back when they first met.

She subsequently turned to Willow, who also reciprocated, but with reservations; there was a reason Buffy was doing this, and it probably wasn’t a good one.

Buffy went to Anya last, who balked at first, but was too intimidated to actually refuse, so she accepted the embrace.

“That was an experiment.” Buffy told them. “First, I want you all to know that I do love each of you, even you Anya, sort of. But I also discovered that as I was hugging you, I still have the blood lust. It would have been so easy to drain all of you.”

Anya’s hand went to her throat as she felt a surge of panic.

“So,” Buffy continued, “It’s obvious I shouldn't be around any of you; around anyone for that matter. And I’ve decided to make the trade -- me for Giles, Spike and Angel.”

“Buffy, you can’t do that!” Dawn exclaimed

“That’s crazy!” Xander added.

“But you didn’t, Buffy.” Willow said, referring back to the blood-lust embraces. “You would never do that.”

“Well, she might.” Anya said quietly.

“I can’t take that chance.” Buffy explained. “It’s always in there, fighting me, wanting to come out.”

“It’s in Angel, too.” Dawn said. “And he manages.”

“Buffy, we all have those dark urges inside of us we have to contend with. It’s part of who we are. Sure, yours are darker, and more dangerous, but you’ve done okay up to now. And it can only get easier.” Willow was becoming anxious now.

“Maybe.” Anya said. “Or maybe it’ll just get worse.”

Willow turned to her angrily. “Will you shut the hell UP?”

As she spoke, her eyes darkened and her hand reached out at the startled ex-vengeance demon, her finger tips crackling with electricity.

Then in the next instant she caught herself and returned to normal, but trembling and panting as the adrenalin levels began to fall.

“See?” A shaken Anya said. “Willow wanted to kill me in the worst way, but she controlled it.”

Willow looked at Anya curiously, then realized what Anya had done, the message she had, hopefully, put across.

“Doesn't matter.” Buffy said. “They’ll kill them if I don't give myself up.”

“Buffy, you’re not thinking straight.” Xander said, trying to make her understand. “First, we don't know if they even HAVE them. And if they do, what makes you think they won’t kill them anyway? We have to have a plan . . . .”

“I have one.”

“No!” Willow contradicted her. “Giving yourself up just to die is NOT a plan! It - it’s absurd! With you gone, the Hellmouth will devour us all. It’ll be like open season all year long.”

“I don't want to lose you.” Dawn said quietly. “Not again.”

“Then give me plan.” Buffy challenged them. “Give me a plan that will save all our lives and will ensure that the Council of Watchers will go away and never bother us again.”

Buffy looked into the face of each of them, but they dropped their eyes under her piercing stare.

No one had such a plan.

As the hours slipped away, Buffy found herself isolated from the other four. While they discussed and argued and went over and over possible scenarios, Buffy found herself upstairs in her room.

Although she tried to ignore them, her hearing was too acute not to hear everything they said.

* ~ *

“Okay,” Xander said, “What if you put a barrier around Buffy when she goes to meet them?”

“I thought of that.” Willow answered. “But the farther she gets from me, the weaker it gets. And even if the coven doesn't try to break it down, by the time she gets there it’ll be next to useless.”

“And not only that,” she continued. “But with Buffy gone, we’d be helpless if they decided to attack.”

“But what about your magic? You could stop them.” Dawn said.

“Not if I’m trying to protect Buffy. And if the coven was interfering with my magic, those soldiers would be in here before any of us could make a move.”

“Why would they do that if Buffy was going to give herself up?”

“Probably just to make sure.” Anya answered. “The more hostages, the better.”

“Okay, what if we ALL go, and you put that barrier around all of us?” Xander was getting desperate.

“They said for Buffy to come alone.” Willow reminded him. “If we all go, there’s no telling what they’ll do. They could kill Giles and the others and abort the meeting, and when we got back, they might be here, inside, hiding, waiting for us.”

~ * ~

As Buffy sat on the edge of her bed, she was beginning to realize how much they all loved her. Even though their lives were also in danger, they were only concentrating on how to keep HER from dying.

And she felt extremely sad that she couldn’t, for some reason, be down there with them. It was then that she discovered another aspect of her vampirism - try as she might, she couldn’t cry.

She felt the emotions and she could feel her throat tighten but there were no tears.

For another hour she sat where she was, waiting until the sun set, then decided she should be with them. If they were so dedicated to her preservation, the least she could do was join them.

Candles were burning on the coffee table. Xander had put the sofa back in the living room and he and Anya and Dawn were sitting on it; Willow was still in the stuffed arm chair.

“Find enough to eat?” Buffy asked, noticing the bags of cookies, boxes of crackers, and the empty envelopes of Pop Tarts next to the candles.

“Yeah, but this is the last of it. But we figure that by tomorrow things will be back to normal.” Xander told her. “Don’t suppose you care for anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“When was the last time YOU had anything to eat?” Willow asked.

“Couple of days ago. But I’m good. Lots of stamina, plenty of reserve Slayer strength.”

For a few moments Buffy stood there as things got awkward.

“I guess I’ll be upstairs.” Buffy said.

“No.” Willow said to her. “Stay down here with us.

“Yeah,” Xander agreed. “Plenty of room here.” He moved closer to Anya, forcing her to squeeze up next to Dawn.

“Or here.” Willow said, moving over to give Buffy room next to her.

“You guys don't have to make yourselves uncomfortable on my account. I can . . . .”

“You can sit right down here.” Willow said as she took Buffy’s hand and pulled to the chair. “Now, SIT!”

Buffy nestled in next to Willow, feeling the inviting warmth of her body, and smelling the tantalizing aroma of her blood through the delicate layers of skin covering her all too inviting, and particularly exquisite, neck.

Willow put one arm around her, pulling Buffy even closer.

“Now,” Willow smiled, ‘Isn’t this better?”

Buffy only nodded.

“What time is it?”

“Three a.m. Another half hour and it'll be time to go.”

“Are you going to walk, or do you want to take my car?” Xander asked.

“I think I’ll walk. I know I’ll be more exposed, but if they try anything, no use getting you car messed up in the process. I want you guys to know there’s no way I can ever express how much it’s meant to me - all of you trying so hard to think of some way to make this work out. But I guess it is what it is - my own personal Apocalypse.”

“I have another idea.” Dawn said. “I know it’s crazy, but who knows, it could work.”

“Dawn,” Xander said patiently, “We’ve gone over everything. Over and over, we’ve gone over it. No one’s come up with anything new.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just thought . . . .”

“What’s you idea, Dawn. It couldn’t be any worse, or any crazier than any other idea we’ve had.” Willow knew she felt bad enough without being shut out.

“Well, you remember when Buffy was first turned and you guys were patrolling? And once in a while, Willow, you would do a Glamour to fool the vamps so they wouldn’t know it really wasn’t Buffy. Well, why can’t you do that now? That way you could go see what’s really going on, and Buffy would be here to protect us if it was a trap.”

“And if they shoot her with wooden bullets, she’ll be just as dead as Buffy would.” Xander argued.

“Not if she has that wall up around herself.”

“Until those witch bitches tear it down.”

“They wouldn’t be able to do that.” Willow contradicted him. “A personal barrier like that is almost impossible to get through, at least mine is.”

There was silence as everyone was trying to think of a reason why it wouldn’t work.

“So, you’re saying . . . .” Xander started.

“I’m saying I don't know why it wouldn't work.” Dawn answered.

“I don't know, either.” Buffy said. “Willow? What do you think? It’s up to you. Yea or nay.”

“I can’t think of a reason to say ‘nay.’ It makes perfect sense. And who knows, if they do have them at The Bronze, maybe there would be something I could do to free them.”

There was more silence. Four hearts were beating more rapidly than normal, and four sets of lungs were working harder to keep up with the rising adrenalin levels. Everyone but Buffy was becoming excited.

Buffy put one hand on Willow’s shoulder.

“You’re sure about this, now? You know if you’d rather not . . . .”

As an answer, Willow changed into the spitting image of Buffy in an instant, right down to the shoes she was wearing.

“Wish me luck.” Willow/Buffy said as she headed toward the door. “Oh, and Buffy, you might want to keep out of sight; don’t want to let them know what's going on.”

Willow/Buffy opened the door, crossed the front porch, descended the stairs and went down the walkway to the street.

The three of them stood in the door, watching Willow/Buffy as she turned onto the sidewalk going in the direction of the Bronze.

And they watched as a black sedan sped by, spraying her with a  deadly and enormous number  of the wooden bullets from at least three of the small, deadly machine guns.

And they watched as Willow/Buffy, in what looked like slow motion, changed from a solid human form into a nebulous, amorphous cloud of dust that swirled away in the early morning breeze.

From the Summers’ household the sounds of horrific screams emanated, piercing and chilling. Which were almost immediately followed by cries of disbelief, anguish and unfathomable sorrow.

A block away, the black van was parked. The telephoto lens of a night vision camera was taping the sights and sounds of Dawn wailing and crying as Xander held her back, keeping her from running into the night. Behind him, Anya was slumped against the door jam, seeming paralyzed with sadness.

Xander managed to pull Dawn and Anya into the house and closed the door.

Seconds later the van’s engine started.

“Our job’s done.” Someone with a thick British accent said. “Let’s get the 'ell away from this bleeding 'ell-hole.”

It was well past noon when Dawn finally woke up. Going downstairs to the kitchen she found Xander and Anya eating steak and baked potatoes for lunch.

“The power’s back on!” Xander said happily with a mouthful of food.

“And the phones are working again.” Anya added.

“So I guess this means you can start taking all the wood off the windows?”

“Right after I finish eating.”

“I appreciate you putting my bed back together. I hate sleeping on the floor.”

Xander nodded as he shoveled more food into his mouth.

“You’re up.” Buffy said to Dawn, as she came in from the living room.

“And I’m hungry.”

“I called Angel earlier.” Buffy told them. “He said he never saw anyone from the Council. They were just bluffing. So, I guess Spike is the only one unaccounted for.”

“But what about Willow?”

“What about me?” Willow asked as she joined them.

“Hey.” Dawn said. “That was some trick you pulled last night, uh, this morning. You are GOOD!”

“How DID you do that?” Buffy asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn another vamp bit the dust.”

“It wasn’t that hard. When I sensed the wooden bullets coming at me, I just altered my shield so when they hit it, they were pulverized into powder.”

“But what about YOU? It looked like you turned into dust.”

“Just a little variation on the Glamour thing. Since it was pretty dark, I just darkened myself up even more, and had the dust form around me momentarily. Then as I went to the ground I flattened out really flat, and let the dust just blow away.”

“Well, it sure freaked me out!” Dawn said. “I really thought you’d been killed for sure.”

“So I heard. Can’t remember the last time I heard you scream that loud.”

“It was a shock to all of us. You should have said something.”  Thinking back on it, Xander was becoming upset, remembering how horrible it felt, and vomiting after he had pulled Dawn and Anya back into the house.

“I didn’t really expect it so soon, but I guess they thought they should take the shot whenever they could.”

“I just wish we knew about Giles.” Buffy said, feeing guilty he hadn’t been her first thought.

“He’s fine.” Willow assured her. “I was in touch with the coven. We only guessed part of it. There were witches brought in by the Council, and they were forcing the rest of them to go up against us. And that almost-feeling I had about Giles being hidden was right. But he was being hidden from the Council, not the other way around.”

Everyone felt relieved.

“Then we can call him?” Dawn suggested.

“We probably should, but we can't say anything about Buffy to him, other than we saw her dusted. And how devastated we are. You never know who might be listening.”

“That still leaves Spike.” Buffy said.

“Spike’s a big boy.” Anya declared. “If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Spike.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“You know, Buffy,” Willow said. “You’re going to have to stop patrolling for a while, at least until things settle down.”

“That’s just it, Will, I can't. Once the word gets out and everyone thinks I’m dead, the vamps and demons will be coming into Sunnydale like it was Free Blood Night at Willy’s. I’m going to be busier than ever.”

“But you CAN'T! If the Council gets wind there’s a Slayer still in Sunnydale, they’ll be here so fast it’ll make your head swim.”

“She has a point.” Anya pointed out.

“Who has?” Buffy and Willow asked together.

“Both of you. Buffy will have to figure out how to patrol in order to keep the demons in check, but not let the Council know about it.”

“I can do that, I think.” Buffy said, with some certainty. “I just have to be careful, that’s all. With my extra speed I should be able to hit a few cemeteries, dust a few vamps, and be back home before anyone’s the wiser.”

“It’s too bad we couldn’t think of something else.” Willow lamented. “I know it’s a pretty unsatisfactory solution, but I don't think the Council was much in the mood for negotiation.”

“I was kind of surprised they didn't want to keep you locked up somewhere and do experiments on you.” Xander said.

“That was the Initiative’s thing. The Council just wants us vamps and demons dead.” Buffy explained. “Can't blame them, though, it’s what I want, too. Except, of course for me … and Angel … and Spike.”

“Don't forget all those friendly and helpful and very trustworthy ex-Vengeance Demons you like so much.” Anya reminded her, with an optimistic smile.

“Do we know any of those?”