Title: The second time around

Fandom: x-over BTVS/Ats/HL

Pairing: if you must know... à Spike/Xander, Methos/Duncan, Willow/Tara, Giles/Anya, Cordi/Wes
Rating: PG, pre-slash
Author: Lillian Luthor
E-mail: [email protected]
Feedback: sure, I'm a bitch for it... I'll even settle for flames if you have nothing good to say
Archive: if you care enough to want it, you have it. just let me know, or whatever...

Disclaimer: they're not mine, nothing this pretty has ever been mine... I'm just borrowing, in an amateur and unprofitable kind of way.

Chapter I

It's been ten years. Ten soddin' years since we buried her. Ten years since we sent the bint with Oz to LA, to live with her father. Ten years since that idiotic Xander was ran over by some even dumber bitch and killed instantly –what a travesty, six years battling the forces of evil to be killed by a reckless driver. It's been nine years since the slayer –the rogue slayer, she used to be- was taken out of jail and sent back to Sunnydale by the Council. It's been almost eight years since the watcher took it back to England, leaving the slayer to take care of her very capable self, and it's been that long since he and demon-girl got hitched.

It's been ten years since the last bit of vampire pride I had died, and ten years I have spent helping the residue of the once Scooby Gang to fight the forces of darkness I had once been proud to be part of. I don't really know how long it has been since I stopped grieving over Buffy, and realized I wasn't staying to honor her memory, but because I wanted to. I wanted to save the world. 'Ironic much?', she would have said.

Ten years in this hellhole of a town, killing my kind, thinking of her and how she never could have loved me. But somewhere along the way it stopped mattering. When I think of her now, she's just another blurry face in a crowd of long forgotten individuals. It started with her mouth; one night I woke up realizing I couldn't quite remember the shape of her mouth as she spoke, as she pouted. Then was he nose, her hair, her eyes... the way she moved when she fought, the way she talked to me like I was an inferior being, and then at times like she really cared. Then one day, she was gone, just a memory; a dear one, that I will always hold on to, but no more than that.

And then I did it all over again, fell for the slayer, but this time it lacked the pain I remembered from the first time around. It didn't hurt when I told her how I felt, it didn't hurt while we were together, and it doesn't hurt now, almost a year since we decided to call it a quits. Funny that, that I spent four years of my unlife living with the slayer, like bloody husband and wife, and then when it was over, when we started pulling apart, we became the best of friends. We still are best friends, actually, and we still live together, only with different bedrooms.

"What the fuck are you brooding about, Spike?" she breaks through my concentration, pretty in a white apron and a two-piece swimsuit while she tries unsuccessfully to cook dinner. Somehow, she always knows when I'm broody... but I can always pretend I'm not.

"Not brooding, pet. Just thinkin'... wondering what the witches have to tell us that is so important to require a dinner appointment"

"I don't know" she shrugs "You should have asked, Spike... you were at the Magic Box all day with Tara"

"I would have, but she was all cranky because I was late for work, again... hope the news is not that I'm fired"

"You don't fire people over dinner, Spike" she chuckles, throwing a napkin at my face

Yeah, I know, who would have thought. Me, working for the witches at the Magic Box. Damn the watcher that left the shop to them and not me, but then again it is only logical that he cared to provide for their future rather than mine. I get paid –generously, so I don't complain. It paid Willow through medical school, and it sustains them both in a pretty house as well as Faith and I in a small but comfortable apartment.

"Are you going to get that, or do I have to leave these to burn?" she says, waving a spatula in the direction of the door

"Comin'!" I yell at the door, the incessant knocking getting to my nerves. When I open, I sigh in relief to find Willow and Tara with wide smiles and a bottle of champagne. Alright, not fired then... unless they're really happy to get rid of me...

"Hi Spike! We have great news!" Willow says as she lets herself in, throwing her coat on the couch and heading directly to the refrigerator to put the bottle away "Do we tell them now, or wait until after dinner?" she consults Tara, who has taken a minute to say 'hi' properly.

"Don't be so sure there will be dinner" I tell her as I approach Faith and notice the unhealthy color her cooking has gained "Maybe I should go pick something up..." I suggest

"Come on Spike, don't be mean, I'm sure it's delicious..." Willow says cheerfully, walking near us with spoon in hand and stealing a taste of what the slayer is trying to make. Her face goes all pale, then all red, then she swallows as tears start welling up in her eyes.

"Go get some pizzas" Faith sighs, throwing the frying pan in the kitchen sink. I was already on my way to the door.

It's funny how much the slayer has changed, and yet hasn't. She's calmer now, more mature. She loves it here in our apartment, and sometimes not even I recognize her when she goes ballistic over cigarette butts on the floor, or that plant I keep forgetting to water. She still goes dancing, specially now that we're no longer a couple, but sometimes she prefers to stay home and watch TV with me, have a couple of beers and talk about our lives. Normal stuff.

She specially loves it when I bring Clem and some of the guys over, and we play poker until sunrise. She even became close to that Tzg'erh demon chit from next door, Patty I think it's her name, and I've caught them more than once whispering about cute guys and designer clothes. She's still lethal, make no mistakes, and in honor of the truth I think she's better than any slayer before her ever was. It shows, been that she's almost thirty already and still growing strong. Sometimes I fear something may happen to her any day, and sometimes I'm certain she will live to be a hundred.

Getting a few pizzas is not a hard task, since we live on top of the shop, so I can make it back before Willow's head blows up from excitement. When I open the door to my apartment I find the frighteningly happy Willow forcing a glass of champagne into my hand while she all but throws the pizzas on the table.

"Okay, I waited long enough..." she breathes deeply, closing her eyes to calm herself, and then opens them up suddenly and snaps "Dawn is pregnant!"

I can barely hear Faith asking if I'm alright before I lose consciousness.

I wake up to annoying girly chatter, and I realize I'm lying on the couch, my head resting on Faith's lap. Ten years ago, I would have ripped their hearts out, but now I really feel like they have ripped mine. The bint is pregnant?.

Of course I knew she and Oz had been dating since she turned eighteen, and they have been living together for three years now, but I could have never seen this one coming. Bloody hell, she's only twenty-four!

"Hun, you do realize Dawn is a big girl, don't you?" Faith laughs. Did I say that aloud?

"You should be happy Spike, she was all thrilled about it" Willow insists, refilling her glass "And you know your approval is very important to her..."

"Oz was very excited too, you should have heard him..." Tara adds, smiling gleefully

I am about to say 'What the hell...' when Faith passes me a glass of champagne

"Angel called while you were out, he says you can stay at the hotel if you want to go visit her for a couple of days..." she informs me "Since the hellmouth is quiet of late, I think you should go"

Yeah, that's more news; the poof and I made peace long ago, a few years after Buffy's passing, and we've been in rather good terms ever since. We still can't stand each other much, and we end up fighting every time we meet, but we never take it to heart. You'll never catch me saying this aloud, but it's good to have my Grandsire back. In a way.

So I go, what else can I do? I have been keeping tabs on the bint since we sent her to her dad's. I bought her her first pair of really high heeled shoes, I took her to her first punk concert, I got her into dying her hair purple to match Oz's, I paid for her first tattoo and managed her dad's wrath for each of those things. I was the first to know when she and Oz moved in together, and again talked her dad into taking it easy. Seemed a good idea at the time, how could I have known he was going to knock her up? But then again I know it has to be something they planned, because I'm very sure I put her on the pill when she turned sixteen. Just in case.

So here I am, at the Hyperion, hands full of presents the girls sent for Dawnie and the baby. The baby. I really have to see her before I start thinking too much about it, or I'm going to lose my mind. Guess I'll have to keep myself busy pissing the poof off until tomorrow. Speaking of which...

"Spike" he greets me with an honest smile, giving me a friendly hug before volunteering to help me carry the stuff inside the hotel. As I enter I am likewise hugged by Cordelia, who looks astonishing as always in a tailored suit.

"I can't believe she got pregnant before I did!" she says as a hello, turning to shoot Wesley a jokingly poisonous look "I got pregnant by a demon once, but my husband? Tsk tsk..."

"I am trying, dear!" the rogue watcher replies laughingly, walking towards me for a warm British reception "Hello, Spike" he says as he gives me a pat on the shoulder "How is Faith doing?"

"She's fine, she sends her love" I tell them while I pass the rest of the presents for Angel to put away "She's sorry she couldn't come, but Will was concerned about some misplaced corpses in her morgue... probably some flesh eating demon, but Faith wanted to be there just in case"

And this is us now, sitting together, having scotch and exchanging news of what is going on in Sunnydale and in Los Angeles. Buffy would go out of her mind if she could see us now, chattering the hours away. I hear from them that Giles and Anya –Mrs. Giles now- are invited over for Christmas, and since the hotel is big the invitation is extended to us, the Sunnydale gang. I choke on my drink when I hear the news that Anya is expecting too...

"I know!" Cordelia snaps as she hears the news retold "How old is Giles anyway? He's like sixty!" she exclaims in mocking annoyance, although it shows that she's both happy for their luck, and happy that she has Wesley. Still, it is quite obvious that the former cheerleader is baby-obsessed.

I say my goodnights to Cordelia and Wesley as they retire for the night to their room, and I manage to receive a cheery hug and a friendly pat from the late-arriving Fred and Gunn before the poof and I go out into the streets. The idea is to kill something while we discuss the way the werewolf factor is going to play for Dawnie's baby, but we end up having some drinks in some quiet demon bar, just two anonymous vampires in the city of angels, talking about times long past.

Eventually he decides to call it a night and head back to the hotel, but for some reason I don't want to leave.

I have my own honorary set of keys for the Hyperion, 'in case of emergency', so I wave him goodbye mockingly and get on a bus. I feel like going downtown, maybe clubbing, anything to keep my mind out of the protective-dad thoughts that the bint's pregnancy awakes in me. It's been too long since I've gone dancing, and I miss it.

Two hours before sunrise, and two beers after my last vestiges of sobriety, I exit the club. I had intended to pick up a girl, maybe two, but somehow I'm not in the mood. My mind is racing, thinking about all the possible ways I'm gonna tell Dawn how happy I am for her, and how proud I am of how well she's done. Then I see them, in a dark alley, sparks flying as the two humans engage in a bizarre sword fight. I haven't seen humans fighting with swords in a century, and somehow it catches my eye. I walk near, not sure if I should intervene, when suddenly I see one of the men's face.

Xander. It couldn't be him, he has been dead for almost a decade, but he looks so much like him. The hair is longer, the black turtleneck and the leather coat definitely not Xandersih, and the grace with which the man moves nothing like the awkward insecurity of the old Scooby. Yet, somewhere, he is enough like him to give me the goose-bumps. I stand there, watching mesmerized, until the Xander-looking man is thrown on his back with a disloyal kick, his sword flying from his hand onto the pavement.

I don't know what possesses me, watching the other man with his sword above the unarmed man's head, but suddenly I'm over the treacherous victor, and before I can realize I have broken his neck. The chip malfunctioned about seven years ago, in case anyone wondered; at the time, it didn't make any difference anymore. So I stand there, looking at the dead man in awe, until a strong hand grabs my arm and pulls me outside the alley.

"We must get away from here" the Xander looking man says; his voice sounds like Xander, but the tone and the words are not him. He's self-confident, his words a command rather than a suggestion.

Once we reach a main street he releases the tight grip on my arm, and turns around with a grin as he pulls out of his pocket a set of keys, obviously for a car. Recognition flashes in his eyes for a second, but then it hits me that it is another kind of recognition;

"Well, not like me to thank a vampire for minding my business, but since you saved my neck I'll let it go" he offers, and before I can say anything in reply he opens the door to an expensive black Mercedes convertible and starts the engine.

I want to say something, to ask him something, but I can't seem to manage. I may be too drunk, or too shocked, or even too scared. He can't be Xander, and he isn't Xander, but somewhere it feels like him. And I have just killed a man, first time in over a decade...

"Xander" I whisper, but he is gone already.