Years Later Series:
Enemies and Allies
by KNS

Angel threw open the front door and Buffy slipped past him, stumbling over a bag of groceries sitting on the floor. Angel caught her and helped her regain her balance.

"Willow?" Buffy called once. When there was no answer, she pointed to herself and then to the livingroom. Angel motioned to the ceiling. She nodded, understanding, and they split up.

Slowly and with great caution Buffy advanced into the livingroom, wishing she had some kind of weapon. Crouching down, she scrambled around a corner. She saw nothing she heard nothing. When nothing happened, she very slowly stood up.

Willow was kneeling beside the couch, her head on the cushions.

Little Buff lay on the couch, her hands crossed over her stomach, a slight smile on her face. She looked like she was sleeping. Willow was gently stroking her forehead.

Buffy started shaking her head. "No. Oh no. Oh, please God, no. . ."

Willow slowly turned her head to gaze to Buffy with heart-broken eyes, and Buffy knew it was true.

She heard Angel coming down the stairs with the two boys.

"Don't bring them in here, Angel!" she cried warningly. "Get them out of here!"

The children were crying. She could hear that too. Odd how her own eyes were dry.

Angel took the sobbing children to the vehicle and told them to stay there with the doors locked. He was as gentle as he could be, but he was in a hurry to get back inside -

Marianna was upstairs, unconscious from a vicious blow to the head. From what he'd been able to gather from the distraught boys, they had all been upstairs in Oz's bedroom when they heard strange voices coming from the kitchen. Marianna had crowded them all into Oz's closet and told them not to come out until she came back for them, no matter what they heard. The children had heard shouting and cursing despite Marianna's orders, their sister had left the closet to help her aunt. Neither female had returned.

Angel need to call Giles and a hospital - not necessarily in that order. Mari had lost a lot of blood. But something was going on with Willow in the livingroom - something Buffy hadn't wanted the boys to see, which meant it wasn't good.

He rushed back through the front door and into the livingroom. He came to a full stop a few feet away from the two kneeling women and the couch.

He'd seen enough death in his life to realize that the child with Buffy's eyes was dead.

Buffy looked up at him, her features hard and closed. "He did this." Her voice was low, very low, and carefully stripped of all emotion. She handed him a wad of paper.

He took it and read it, then closed his eyes at the rage that swept over him. Opening them, he found his emotions mirrored in the Slayer's eyes.

"I'm going to rip this Council apart," she said slowly, carefully.

"I'll help," he said just as calmly.

"Wesley," Willow said brokenly, the only word she'd spoken since Buffy dropped down beside her.

"I'll kill him slowly," Angel hissed. "One bone at a time."

"He's already dead," Buffy told Willow comfortingly. "I swear we'll make him pay."

"He only killed her because she's yours," Willow said. She began to weep softly. "He knew she was yours," she whispered again.

Buffy shook her head. "No, Will. He did it to punish us. Not because she was going to be a Slayer."

Willow wept harder. "Not 'cause she's a Slayer," she wailed, "'cause she was yours. Your daughter!"

"Mine?" Buffy echoed. "Will, you know that's not true. . ."

Willow looked at her, eyes red-rimmed and pouring tears. "I didn't - didn't tell you 'cause I thought you'd take her away. Oh God, Buffy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Buffy looked at the girl on the couch, then back to the sobbing woman beside her. She wrapped her arms around her best friend, pulled her close. "It doesn't matter, Will," she said soothingly. "It doesn't matter. Mine, yours, Xander's, Angels' - it doesn't matter. We all loved her."

She spoke softly, kindly. Only Angel saw the scalding tears sliding down her expressionless face.

Angel made the calls, said what had to be said. The hospital ambulance came for Marianna. Giles arrived only seconds before it. The paramedics said she would live to have a splitting headache she would be revived to consciousness at the hospital. Xander came home a broken mess - a kind friend dropped him off. Giles drove him and the kids to the hospital where Marianna had been taken, for the paramedics had taken Willow as well. She had been hysterical.

The undertakers came for little Buff's body. They were gentle, which seemed to please Buffy, for she allowed them to take the child without a fuss. Angel settled the details with one of the men before they left.

After an eternity Buffy and Angel were alone in the empty house. Buffy was full of an odd energy, moving from one room to another until she ended up in the kitchen. Angel merely followed her, silent when she began to destroy everything in the kitchen, he simply stood aside, making no move to stop her.

She threw the canisters from the cabinet against the wall, breaking them instantly. She opened the cabinets and swept the dishes onto the floor, where they shattered into a thousand pieces. She kicked the stove and punched the refrigerator. On and on she continued in her destruction, and Angel took not a step towards her until she sat down in the middle of the floor and began to weep in silence, her body shaking with mute sobs.

Only then did he kneel down beside her and gently take her hands.

"She was my daughter," she said brokenly.

"I know," he agreed, and wept with her.

Together they went to the Watchers' offices. They found it empty, completely abandoned, every person and piece of equipment gone from the premises. A sign reading ‘Space Available' was plastered in one of the windows.

"This is not going to save you, Wes," Buffy said softly.

"I always knew he was a coward," Angel growled. "Where do Watchers gather when they're being hunted?"

She nodded, looking smug. "I know one or two places."

It gave the pair no little satisfaction to see Watchers scramble away from their computers as the doors slid open to admit them into the room hidden in the depths of a public library. The somberly suited men and women made frantic grabs for weapons concealed under books and behind monitors while a few continued to pound messages desperately into their computers.

"Everyone shut up and stand still," Angel commanded. He used the laser pistol Buffy had given him to cover the room.

Buffy stood at his shoulder, her own pistol casually playing across the room. "Where's Wesley?" she demanded at large, then carefully aimed the weapon at a man standing only a short space from her. "Tell me."

The middle aged man swallowed, shook his head. "I don't know."

Buffy released the pistol's safety catch, took aim at the man's heart. "Wrong answer."

"Wait!" another Watcher cried. This one was a young, dark haired woman with fair eyes. "We don't know where he is. We're all split into different groups, so that you -" Suddenly she fell silent, biting her lower lip.

"So that we don't find you all at once?" Angel coldly suggested.

The young woman nodded.

Buffy shook her head, lowered her weapon. "I'm not after you," she said quietly. "I just want him. Wesley. If you guys want to be left alone, bring him to me. Soon. If you don't. . ." She trailed off. "Well, just remember that I have records of where you all live. And your International Identification Numbers. And how many pets you have and what kind of vehicles you drive. I will find you, all of you, if Wesley doesn't show up soon."

She turned and quietly left the room, leaving her threat hanging in the thick air.

Angel looked at the stunned Watchers and said, "You know who I am. Who I was. I'm human now. I no longer live with a demon inside me." Slowly he smiled. "That doesn't mean I've lost his memories." He paused for a moment, then added, "Find Wesley. Soon. For your own sakes."

For all their searching, threats, and bravado, they could not find Wesley Wyndham-Price. He had disappeared into the city, lost among the millions of people who made their homes in London.

The next afternoon they attended Sara Elizabeth Rosenburg-Harris' funeral.

It was a quiet memorial. Most parents of the child's friends didn't want to put their children through the ordeal of a funeral. One or two families came to pay their condolences and then quickly left.

Standing around the closed casket, listening to the preacher say words meant to comfort, Willow wept. Xander wept. The two little boys wept. Marianna was there, a thick bandage wrapped around her head. She too wept. Buffy did not. She clung to Angel's hand, her back stiff as a board, her eyes dry, her breathing even. But oh, it hurt to hear the others cry. The flowers around the grave were not a comfort. They reminded her of fields the little girl would never play in, of corsages she would never receive from boys wanting to take her dancing. The preacher's words were not a comfort. They reminded her of bedtime stories she would no longer tell the child, of graduation speeches the girl would never hear.

At that grave site there was no comfort to be had from anything. There was no other word to describe the burial of this child but Hell, and in Hell there was no comfort for anyone.

All the sweetness, all the potential, all the innocence, the love, the dreams, the hope - all gone.

Hell.

The preacher finally went away, leaving the group alone.

"I'm sorry, Willow," Marianna said through her tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect her. I tried -"

Willow pulled Mari away from Giles and into her arms. "It wasn't your fault," she sobbed, and they wept together.

Giles looked at Buffy, his face etched into lines of sorrow. "I will never forgive them for this," he said quietly, "never."

Buffy felt bitterness fill her mouth, realizing that Wesley had destroyed so much more than he would ever understand.

Angel met Xander's eyes over the casket. The businessman was a wreck. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was pale, his lips were pulled back in a hard grimace. "I talked to her two days ago," he told Angel. "She said she was having fun on the beach. She liked building sandcastles. She said, ‘I love you, Daddy.' And I said, ‘I love you, too, Buff.'" His voice broke. "I love you, too, Buff -"

Angel released Buffy's hand, stepped around the casket, and held the sobbing businessman. Xander wept like the two children standing at his knee.

Buffy saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw a large group of people standing not too far away, watching them as they grieved. She recognized them - some of them, at least.

Watchers.

Her lip turned up in disgust, she stormed over to them.

"You heartless monsters," she snarled at them, enraged. "Can't you even leave us the hell alone to burry our child?"

The tall woman at the head of the crown ducked her head. "We've not come to bother you, Slayer. We've come to apologize. And - and join you, if you'll have us."

Buffy actually laughed at that. "Apologize. Apologize. Apologize." She had a hard time accepting the word. "Did you stop Wesley from doing this? Did you tell anyone so that they could stop him? You didn't do a damn thing, and now you want forgiveness? Go to hell." She turned away from them.

"Slayer, please!" a man said, moving forward. It was the same man she had threatened with her pistol the day before. "We didn't know he was going to do it. If we had, we would have stopped him." He paused to take a breath, seeing that he had her attention. "The Council voted on punishment for you and Willow for disobeying our orders. The punishment was to be our silence! We voted never to have dealings with you again. Never, never was it discussed to kill the child. The Council head made that decision on his own."

Buffy waited. "Did you bring me Wesley?"

Reluctantly the man shook his head. Buffy started to turn away. "But we will!" he said quickly. "We've - we've broken from him, formed a new Council." He gestured to the thirty or so people behind him. "Us, and others in the field. Few Watchers still back Wyndham-Price, and even fewer would do so if they didn't feel bound by the Watcher's Oath. Once he's dead, we'll be whole once more."

"We want you to be our Council head, Mr. Giles," the tall woman Buffy had first spoken with said.

Buffy turned to find Giles and the others standing a short ways behind her. Reluctantly Giles came to stand at her shoulder and face the Watchers. His face was closed, guarded."W-why me?"

The woman answered, "We all know of you, Mr. Giles. Your loyalty, your courage, your ability to train a Slayer so well that she lives thrice the number of years that most do."

Buffy and Giles exchanged glances. Buffy looked away first... it was his decision, not hers.

"Once Wesley is gone, I'll consider your offer," Giles slowly told the woman. "Not before."

The man quickly nodded. "Fair enough. Meet us at the offices tonight at nine. We'll get him there. What you do with him is none of our affair."

"Why should we trust you?" Angel asked suspiciously.

The woman shrugged. "Who else will you trust?"

"We don't trust you," Buffy countered. "After Wesley's dead, we'll think about it."

"As you will," the woman said calmly. She looked past the Slayer to a silent Xander and Willow. "My condolences," she said softly, and she sounded sincere.

The group returned to Buffy and Angel's flat after the services. No one wanted to go back to the Rosenburg-Harris home, least of all Xander and Willow. At the flat, Willow fell into an exhausted sleep on the bed, the two boys beside her. Xander napped on the couch, a wet washcloth draped across his eyes to relieve the headache that lingered behind his skull. Marianna, after all her weeping, had to take more painkillers for her head, and rested in the recliner in the livingroom.

Giles, Buffy, and Angel sat in the small kitchen and discussed the possibility of Giles taking over the Council.

Eventually the sun sank from the sky and darkness fell. Willow emerged from the bedroom looking far more at peace than she had when she went in. She had changed into a pair of Buffy's pants and a sweater, leaving her long black dress folded on top of the dresser. She went to Marianna, who was sitting at the table, and gently asked her how she was feeling. Marianna said that she felt much better, thank you.

It was then that Willow took one of her hands and asked her if she'd watch over the two boys one more time.

Tears filled Mari's kind eyes. "You'd trust me with your children after what just happened?"

Willow smiled softly, sadly. "It wasn't your fault, Mari," she told her. "Never think that it was your fault."

"Someone's got to wake up Xander," Angel said after a moment. "It's eight-thirty."

A collection of Watchers met the group at the entrance. Buffy wasn't certain she recognized any of them from earlier in the day. She glanced at Angel, who shrugged, unsure. Most of the Watchers looked the same to him, with their sober suits and unimaginative haircuts.

"We put him back in his office," a young, blond haired man told Buffy. He lead the way to the office, and the other Watchers tagged along behind the group as they followed the man.

Angel has a strange feeling in his chest as they passed through the empty, silent building. Something struck him as wrong about the situation. He glanced at Buffy out of the corner of his eye she was looking back at him. Slowly she nodded.

As one they turned on the group of Watchers following them, ready to fight if necessary. Apparently Giles, Willow, and Xander had also felt something to be amiss with the meeting, for at the same moment they came shoulder to shoulder with each other and drew the small weapons they had concealed within their clothing.

They found themselves facing crossbows and laser pistols drawn on them by the six or seven Watchers.

"None of that now," a snide voice said from behind them. Wesley Wyndham-Price emerged from a patch of shadows, a few armed Watchers flanking him. All around them Watchers emerged from the shadows, surrounding the small group.

"Trap," Angel hissed.

"You are a smart one," Wesley sneered. "Throw down your weapons , or I order them to fire on you."

Buffy and Angel exchanged glances. Slowly they lowered their pistols to the floor the three beside them did the same.

"What are you going to do?" Giles curiously asked Wesley, using the same voice he would when inquiring after the weather.

"I'm going to try to talk to some sense into you," Wesley told him. "You and the stubborn Slayer." Slowly he walked forward until he stood in front of Buffy. "Why are you so angry? You killed the child as surely as I did. I told you what would happen if you took Angel's spell by force. You knew what would happen, and yet you did it anyway. Why then are you blaming me?"

"Don't you say that, damn you," Willow said in a deceivingly soft voice. "You killed my baby all by your damn self. Don't blame Buffy or your Council or your bad childhood. Murderer," she added softly.

"You're a dead man, Wes," Xander growled. "If I don't do it, Will here will. Or Buffy. Or Giles. Or Angel. You'll never walk out of here alive."

Wesley calmly looked to Buffy. "Is that truly the way you feel?"

The rage in her eyes answered him.

"Pity," he said simply. He pulled a laser pistol from his jacket pocket and pointed it at her head. "I suppose I'll just have to call the next Slayer, then."

Angel stepped towards him, and Wesley released the safety mechanism.

"Angel," Giles said warningly.

"Come on, Wes," Buffy softly said, her manner suddenly changed. "Give me the gun. You don't want to do this. I'm the Slayer, remember? We work together to destroy evil, not each other. Don't do this. Remember the mayor's ascension, back in Sunnydale? We worked through our differences then, we can do it again. Give me the gun. Let's talk about this."

Slowly she stretched out her hand. Wesley looked as if he were considering her words -

But then doors around the room were flung open and people flooded into the area, firing weapons of both ancient and modern design. They were the Watchers that had come to the grave site, asking for forgiveness. Now Watcher fought Watcher as the Council was split apart, just as Buffy had promised she would do.

Wesley's eyes met and held Buffy's for a moment. Something shifted in them. He smiled bitterly, admitting the fact that the bonds between Slayer and Watcher were such that he could never kill her, no matter what he said.

He swung the pistol at Angel and fired.

For a moment time froze. In that instant Buffy saw the surprise on Angel's face, and she knew that nothing in Heaven or on earth could ever stop those blasts from striking flesh.

Her decision was made instantly, almost without thought.

She roughly shoved Angel out of the way and took the blasts herself.

It seemed every person in the room watched the Slayer fall, for suddenly all stood still and silent, weapons dropped loosely to their sides.

Xander snatched a pistol from the floor and shot Wesley repeatedly in the chest.

Willow screamed her best friend's name.

Giles and Angel were there to catch Buffy as she fell to the floor, blood covering her hands where she pressed them to her stomach.

"Someone call an ambulance, dammit!" Giles shouted.

Angel cradled her in his arms. "What the hell did you do that for?" he demanded of her. God, there was so much blood. . . .

Buffy laughed shakily. "Gut shot. Damn little toad did it on purpose. . ." Her voice trailed away. She sighed and closed her eyes her hands relaxed against the wounds in her stomach.

"Buffy, you must stay awake," Giles said, desperation in his voice.

"Where the hell's that ambulance?" Xander howled at the Watchers. They stood there as if in a trace, unable to believe that the Slayer lay there wounded and bleeding before them.

"Stay with us, Beloved," Angel said, pressing his hands to her wounds, trying to stanch the rivers of blood gushing out.

"Oh, Buffy," Willow whispered brokenly, knowing the truth.

She drew a deep breath, coughed, and opened her eyes. "I love you, Angel," she murmured. Her eyes were clouding over. "I love you all." Her eyelids dropped, as if suddenly too heavy to keep open.

"No," Angel denied, shaking her. "Don't you leave me, Beloved. Don't you dare die!"

She suddenly roused herself at that. Her eyes snapped open and they were clear. She breathed deeply without coughing. Her bloody hands caught hold of his with a strong grip. "I'm not gonna die," she told him, her voice clear and steady. "I've survived an ascension, two Masters, a world war, and all my teenage years. It'll take more than some little toad that screams like a woman to kill me, Angel."

And then Buffy Summers closed her eyes and died.

Sequel!

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