Years Later Series:
Win or Lose
by KNS

They stood together for as long as they could - Giles with Xander and Willow, Buffy with Angel - but eventually the vampires drove them apart, forcing friend from friend until at last they each fought alone, no two together.

"Stay together," Giles shouted desperately, but it was impossible. There were simply too many vampires.

That was when things got confusing.

One moment Xander was fighting two vamps that had him backed against one of the massive stones - and the next moment, he was in his living room. He looked around, confused. His hands were empty he was wearing his pajamas and robe.

"What the hell . . .?"

Strange sounds were coming from the kitchen. Reluctantly he walked in that direction, calling for Willow and Buffy as he went.

"Are you guys here?" he asked, turning the corner. He froze at the sight that greeted him. His son Oz lay on the floor, his head turned at an impossible angle. Across the bar his other son Angel lay sprawled on his side, his glazed eyes gazing sightlessly at his father. In a chair beside the table his little Buff sat slumped in an upright position, clearly dead.

And in the center of the room stood Angel, his vampire face laughing at the expression on Xander's face.

"Look, children," Angelus said mockingly. "Daddy's home."

Giles blinked, and suddenly he was no longer aiming his crossbow at a vampire attacking Willow, but rather was staring out a window at in the old Sunnydale High library.

He whirled around, but no one stood near him no one stood in the library at all, as far as he could tell. How was this possible? The library had been destroyed in an attempt to kill the ascended mayor of Sunnydale over twenty years before. It had not been rebuilt in the same style, from what he recalled.

Suddenly the double doors of the library opened and Marianna came in carrying a stack of books.

"Rupert, sweet, be a dear and help me carry these, won't you?" she called to him.

"O-of course," he agreed, moving out of the stacks and down the steps to help her. He had almost reached her when Jenny Callander appeared behind her.

Jenny looked at him and laughed. "Didn't think you'd ever see me again did you, Rupert?" she teased him. "Guess what - I've changed." Her face abruptly transformed and became that of a vampire's. With another laugh she caught Marianna and buried her fangs in his wife's neck.

Giles bellowed in horror, "NO. . ."

Angel fought desperately to get to Buffy, but there were too many vamps between them. He would fight off one, stake it, only to have two more appear in his path. That was how it went - punch, punch, kick, dodge, fake, punch, kill, punch, punch. . .

And Buffy needed him. He could see that every time he glanced in her direction. She was surrounded by vamps, and even with her skills it was impossible to avoid all the blows and face all of the attackers. She was weakening, getting slower. Even as he watched one of them caught her from behind, used a club of some sort to reign down tremendous blows on her head.

"Buffy!" he howled.

For an instant time froze. She fell to her knees, and used her hands to keep herself from falling flat on the ground. She looked at him her eyes were dull and flat.

"Help me," she mouthed without sound.

"Yes, Angelus," a smooth, evil voice whispered in his ear. "Help her." It laughed.

Angel pushed forward with all the strength he had, his eyes fixed on Buffy. But even as he pushed forward, a vampire jumped to Buffy's side and plunged a stake straight through her back and into her heart.

He watched helplessly as she fell to the ground and the vamps came between them again.

Willow wasn't quite sure what happened. One minute she was driving a stake through the heart of a vampire, and the next minute she was standing alone in the middle of Stonehenge.

"Hey guys?" she called hesitantly into the eerie silence.

Suddenly the silence exploded into sound. Whipping around, she found herself face to face with the multi-headed creature from Hell that she and the others had battled in the library during their senior year of highschool. The creature roared angrily, and lashed its spiked tail from side to side.

Willow shook her head. This was not happening. The Master was playing off her nightmares, pitting her against a creature she had always feared. It wasn't real.

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that," she mumbled, rushing forward to throw her hands around one of the creature's many necks.

"What's your name?" she demanded of the creature, looking boldly into a green-black eye. "Tell me your name!"

Beneath her hands the creature shifted and flowed into another form. Willow found herself grasping her daughter by the throat. She was surprised, but still she clung grimly to the flesh of whatever it was she held.

"Tell me your name!" she shouted.

The demon wearing her young daughter's face laughed and shifted form again to become Giles.

"W-what do you care?" it said, amused. Suddenly it was no longer Giles but a long dead enemy - Spike.

"Dammit, tell me your name!" Willow screamed. The creature's shifting and flowing was somehow numbing her hands she could feel her grip slipping.

"Ah, now, luv, there's no need for cursin'," the Spike-thing laughed. "Give me your name an' I'll give you mine."

The numbness was moving up her arms. "Sarah Walters," she cried.

"Unh-uh, dearest," the creature said, now wearing Angelus' face. "Your true name."

She couldn't feel anything below her shoulders. "Anne," she said desperately, praying the creature would believe her. "Anne Winters!"

Abruptly she found herself face-down in the dirt, feet moving in all directions about her. A hand caught the back of her shirt and roughly pulled her to her feet.

"Come on, Willow, we need you," Angel said quickly before turning away.

Willow gazed after him blankly, then began to search for her bag. A name echoed in her mind.

In his kitchen, Xander rushed blindly for Angelus -

In the library, Giles threw himself towards Marianna and Jenny -

In the circle of stones, Angel forced his way through vampires -

And in the chaos and darkness, Willow raised a candle, recited a series of words, and shouted a name -

They stood in a semi-circle within the broken ring of Stonehenge, no two of them together. There were no vampires. There were only the four of them, staring at the sight that presented itself before them.

Buffy half-knelt before them, dressed in army fatigues and boots. In her hands was a laser pistol that she held trained on a child, a young boy no older than Xander's daughter.

But the boy - there was something weird about him. His movements were jerky his voice had an odd echo as he spoke to Buffy.

"Please, please don't hurt me," he begged Buffy. "I won't tell, I promise!"

"Stay back!" Buffy cried. "I don't want to do this, but I have to."

The boy walked closer and closer to Buffy, until he was able to reach out and lift the weapon from her hands. "You can trust me, Slayer," he said, then laughed.

That laughter released the observers from their disbelieving trance, set them all into motion. As a group they rushed forward, screaming warnings and readying weapons -

Only to freeze an instant later, trapped only a few feet away from Buffy and the Master.

Even as they had moved the Master had darted forward to seize the Slayer around the neck and drive her backwards, slamming her into a stone. The Master was huge, over seven feet tall and abounding with muscles oddly enough, he was genuinely handsome, with ivory white skin and dusty blonde hair. But when he spoke, his voice, though smooth and pure, was chillingly evil.

"Stupid Slayer," he taunted, smashing the back of Buffy's head against one of the giant stones. "You never learn, do you?" CRACK, he smashed her head against the stone again. "I suppose I should be grateful" - CRACK - "Without the power release from your death" - CRACK - "I never would have been able to Rise!" He laughed again.

Buffy clawed at the hands around her neck. Her eyes were starting to glaze over, and her face was turning oddly red. She struggled, but her feet were off the ground and she had no leverage.

Willow tried frantically to move, to shout, to whisper. She could do nothing. Within her mind she cast every spell she could remember, but to no avail. She screamed every curse she ever knew, and not a whisper passed her lips. Finally, as she watched the Master begin to slam her best friend again and again against the stone, she closed her eyes and thought of the one thing she wished she had told Buffy.

A tear fell down her cheek she reached up and brushed it away.

That was how she realized she could move. Not quickly, and not normally, but she could do it.

Angel stood only inches from her. Slowly, slowly she reached out her hand. Millenniums came and went, great empires rose and fell in the time it took her fingertips to brush his arm - but the instant she touched him, he sprang alive.

The Master was having such a good time cracking the Slayer's head against the stone that he turned too late to see what the sounds were behind him. As it was, he moved just in time to see Angel thrust the stake into his heart.

"Not Angelus," he protested, sounding truly surprised. And he exploded into ash.

Buffy slumped to the ground, gasping and coughing and cradling her head. Angel dropped to his knees beside her, the others closely behind him.

The instant she had enough breath Buffy began to mumble something incoherently about killing and not wanting to. She rocked back and forth, palms pressed to her temples, muttering softly to herself.

Angel laid his hands on her shoulders she flinched away from him.

"Buffy, it's okay," Xander said, his voice hoarse and low. "We're okay. We're all okay."

"It's not okay," Buffy cried, lifting her head. "I killed him - I killed that boy. Back in the war. I - thirty or so of us were dead, twenty were wounded. He was going to tell his parents. We couldn't - couldn't move that fast. I shot him!" she wailed. "Oh God, oh God, forgive me!"

Giles bent down, caught her by the shoulders and shook her. "Buffy, stop it! It's over - it's over!"

Buffy's eyes slowly focused on him. "Giles?" she asked. "What's going on? God, I have a headache."

Willow looked up at the stone they knelt before. There was a fair amount of blood on it. "I'm not surprised," she said. "He hit you pretty hard."

Buffy abruptly looked around. She saw Angel watching her with worry in his eyes. She took his hand, squeezed it comfortingly.

"Where's the Master?"

"Dead," Angel answered simply.

"Dead?" Buffy echoed. Slowly she stood up. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she stumbled four people were there to help her instantly. "How can he be dead?"

"Because he was dumb enough to mess with Dead Boy's woman," Xander answered shakily.

Buffy started to laugh - softly, at first, and then louder and louder until the others joined in and the area rang with echoes. They laughed in relief to be alive, in joy that they would see the dawn, in surprise that they had managed to do together what no one of them ever could have done alone.

They were alive. They were together. They were safe.

Despite her dizziness Buffy threw herself into Angel's arms and kissed him passionately, then broke away and went to hug the others.

"Now aren't you glad I brought marshmallows?" Willow sang, giddy with happiness.

They were not without wounds. Giles had an open gash across his thigh and another across his shoulder. Xander's face was slowly turning different colors, including two black eyes and a very swollen jaw. Angel had odd cuts and bruises along his arms and neck. Both of Willow's arms and hands were badly burned from shoulders to fingertips.

There were emotional wounds as well. The illusions the Master had thrown at them would take a long time to fade.

In the small hours of the morning the group returned to London, Angel driving because he was the most capable. He took them to a hospital, but dropped Buffy off somewhere else first.

"I'm not going into a hospital," she declared as they drove. "I've already been through enough pain for one night."

"Then where do you intend to go?" Angel demanded.

Wesley Wyndham-Price dropped his cup of tea onto his desk, where it splattered warm liquid onto everything in sight.

"Hey Wes." She greeted him quietly, but with a big grin. "Guess who just killed a Master."

"Buffy," was all he could say. He didn't know whether to hug her or hit her. She had done it! She really was as good as she made herself out to be!

"The one and only," she returned, grinning even wider. "One Master dead. One spell due."

Suddenly Wesley wasn't amused anymore. Slowly he stood up and crossed infront of his desk. This wasn't going to be pretty.

She saw something on his face that she didn't like. "What?" she asked, her grin fading. "Why do you have that look on your face?"

Wesley took a deep breath. "About the spell . . ." He stopped.

Buffy glanced at him askance. "Yeah, the spell. I'd like to have it now, if you don't mind. It's late, I've got a *really* bad headache, so - hand it over."

"No," Wesley said, looking her straight in the eye.

She looked at him with confusion. "No?" She turned to the large group of Watchers standing behind her. "What does he mean, no?"

"You can't have it."

Buffy turned on him, a furious expression on her face. "What the hell do you mean, I CAN'T HAVE IT?" she demanded, her voice high.

Wesley didn't even blink. "You haven't finished earning it yet. Soon maybe -"

"What do you mean?" she interrupted, her voice suddenly soft, betrayed. "I did exactly what you told me to do. I killed the Master - or, well, Angel killed him, but I helped." She looked at him, smiled hopefully.

"I'm sorry," Wesley said, not really meaning it. The way he figured, Buffy would be doing exactly what he wanted from now on.

She looked completely crushed. "But - I trusted you. . ."

"And you should continue to do so," Wesley said comfortingly. "The Watchers' Council is here to support you in every way possible."

Buffy turned to look at the people behind her. God, she felt like such a fool. "I trusted him," she told them, as if that should count for something.

"Give her the bloody spell," some Watcher at the back of the group said.

"She earned it," another agreed.

Murmurs arose, but quickly were silenced. They were enough, however, to shake Buffy out of her daze.

She whipped back to face the head of the Council. "We have a deal, Wes," she said menacingly, taking a step towards him. "Now you can give me that spell, or I can take it from you. Either way, I win."

Wesley quelled the stab of fear that shot through him. "I wouldn't do that," he said calmly. "We certainly wouldn't want some poor child to suffer for your rash actions." He let the implications sink in, then added smoothly, "Willow and Xander have children, don't they?"

Understanding flashed in Buffy's eyes. "You wouldn't."

He looked hard at her. "They have a little girl that has your name, correct? She's such a terribly sweet girl. Looks quite a bit like you, come to think of it."

The Slayer visibly trembled with rage. "I can't believe how sorry I'm gonna make you," she snarled, then turned and stormed out of the office, Watchers falling over each other to clear out of her way.

Willow had barely been asleep for an hour when the phone rang. Xander cursed it and told her to ignore it, but she activated it with a bandaged finger, knowing whoever it was would continue calling until they got an answer.

Despite himself, Xander found himself listening to Willow's end of the conversation.

"Hello?" Willow said sleepily. "What? WHAT? Okay. Okay. Oh my God - Okay. Okay. Be careful." She cut the connection.

"What is it?" Xander asked, already sitting up.

Willow threw back the bedcovers and ran for their bedroom door.

"We've got to get the kids out of here right now," she told him.

"Hello?" he called. "Where is everyone?" The place should have been crawling with people at this time of the day, especially the day after the killing of a Master.

Slowly he walked towards his office. His footsteps echoed in the still hallways. When he reached his office, he found one of the double doors open. Bracing himself, he walked in.

On the floor of his office sat between forty and fifty Watchers, all bound and gaged and squashed in shoulder-to-shoulder. They looked up at him with various stages of emotions on their faces - fear, nervousness, humiliation, anger. Mostly anger.

On his desk, swinging her legs like a little girl, sat Buffy. She was grinning. Beside her sat Xander and Willow, who were not smiling.

"Hi ya, Wes," Buffy said cheerfully. "Hope we didn't catch you at a bad time or anything. It doesn't look like you're all tied up."

Some of the Watchers on the floor groaned at her joke.

Wesley sputtered, not at all sure what to say.

"Oh, aren't you happy to see us?" Xander asked cuttingly. He got down off the desk and carefully picked his way over to the Council head. He looked at him closely for a moment, then abruptly drew back his fist and hit him squarely in the nose. Soon Wesley would have two black eyes to match his.

"Don't you ever threaten my children again," he said menacingly. He pushed past the startled Watcher and walked away.

Willow came over to him next. Although her hands were bandaged, she drew one fist back purposefully. While Wesley flinched, she kneed him in the groin.

"Did I mention I quit?" she asked sweetly, moving past him.

When Wesley could breath again, he looked back to Buffy, who still sat on his desk swinging her legs.

She laughed at him. "I'll take that spell now," she told him, then added for good measure, "You know, you should never challenge a Slayer or her friends. But hey, at least you're luckier than the Master - he didn't get to learn this lesson and pass it on to other losers."

And she laughed.

Sequel!

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