Chapter 1: If You're Watching.

{A Slayer is always on the look out for any signs of demon attacks but who's looking out after her. And who will answer her prayers on a cool winter night in good ol' SunnyD, California}

It was daybreak. Dawn should be getting up soon, but she probably wouldn't. The air inside of the crypt was cold and chilly, almost like winter. It never really became winter in Sunnydale, California; a cosmic rule that there was year-round summer anywhere south of Colorado. But it was a nagging insult to pretend that times would change and winter would finally come in white, puffy sheets. It was like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel then having a heavy door slam the light out of existence.

The only time snow fell on the streets of Sunnydale was a long time ago, Buffy thought gloomily as she searched for the rest of her clothes that had been scattered about in the wild heat last night. It was Christmas of my senior year and I was still with—

She paused and looked over at the sleeping body underneath a large Persian rug. The dark light masked his sharp face and at certain times, she wondered if it was just an act, his sleeping. She knew he watched her as she slept, and long after they both knew she woke up and feigned sleep to avoid conversation, or having to leave. Did he also feign sleep, for her sake, knowing that she had to go back to Dawn but spared her the effort of having to scold him again about the nature of their… relationship? Honestly, with each passing between this cold, dead crypt and the outside world, it was becoming easier and easier just to not care. Spike's getting what he always wanted so why shouldn't I?

Buffy scowled, the expression more or less directed at her friends and not the vampire "asleep", and stalked out of the crypt, her jacket nipping around her hips.

The crypt door slammed shut with enough force to wake the dead. But the dead was already awake. With a sigh, he sat up, looked at his bitten and bruised body and went go to get something to drink.


It was about 78 degrees in the dead of winter.

It shouldn't be that way, Willow thought as she closed her window curtains and flopped down on her bed. I could probably fix that, if I was so sleepy. Dawn was making breakfast and for some reason, Willow didn't feel the need to go join her. Last night found her looping through one of Rack's spells and it was getting harder to tell reality apart from the mind-trips. However, the fact that she liked that fraying distinction, it was almost enough for Willow to never set foot in that place again.


Willow tossed a handful of purple light to the light switch and the room plunged into darkness.


Stupid Willow.

Stupid Buffy.

Stupid Xander, and Giles and Anya. I never liked Anya anyway.

The teenager flipped a pancake with a spatula and smashed it firmly into the hissing frying pan, a scowling wrinkling her lips.

Yeah, Buffy, I'll be fine alone. Oh, wait you don't think I'm going to be alone with Willow here. Like she doesn't realize that I know she teleports out of here on a regular basis.

Dawn fingered the dark red, heart-shaped necklace (the marked price tag was up in her room) around her throat, frowning at the lumpy-style of her pancakes. Tara could make better ones. I wish she was here, then everything would be better.

Outside a horn honked and tossing a black and crispy "thing" from the pan into a paper towel, Dawn grabbed her backpack and raced out the door.

The green van pulled away from the front at the same time Buffy opened the back door, smelled something burning and leapt to turn off the stove.

"Dawn!" She howled and spun around so her yell would be heard throughout the house. "How could you just leave the stove on?!"

Her irritation growing, Buffy put on her Joyce-Summers-Face and belted out louder:


"She went to school, Buffy," Willow muttered as she entered the kitchen, her flannel pajamas slithering on the ground. The witch immediately moved towards the coffee machine, ignoring the glare from the Slayer.

"Are you just now getting up?"

"Are you just now getting in?"

"Yes," Buffy answered airily. "Because I have a job."

"Right, Slayer biz." Willow muttered as she started the machine.

"Yes, Willow, Slayer business. What's your excuse?"

Willow shrugged, getting a cup out from the cupboard. "Witch business."

"With Dawn here?"

"She was perfectly safe. I've got enchantments all over this place. So," Willow added haughtily, "if I can bring someone back from the dead, I'm pretty much-,"

The witch saw Buffy's expression shatter into one of hopelessness and Willow frowned and put down the cup. Silence was harsh and crisp, like how the air outside should have been.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow said, not looking into her friend's eyes and carrying a double meaning to her words. "I didn't mean anything by it."

The Slayer was suddenly tired of playing the Mom card with everyone. Spike's pointed face flashed across her mind; she beat it back with a visible cringe and her hand rubbed her forehead.

"Yeah, I know." It didn't sound like she meant it and she really didn't, given the chance to be honest. "Look, I'm tired, the vampire- vampires did a number on me last night so I'm going to go shower. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Willow's frown was sympathetic, never empathic. They would never know. "You don't have to ask, you know."

Buffy paused in the dinning room and looked back, her eyes covered in a brilliant sheen and hard like glass. "Yeah, I know."


"I do know, and it's insulting. It's down-right insulting and I, fully human, am deeply offended!"

"Ahn, he just wants to make sure everything's alright."

"Well it is! Would he have left me the store if he thought I'd blow it up or something?"

"Probably not-,"

"So then what's with these letters about the store and Buffy and Willow, but I have to keep them locked up inside the store and not show Buffy or Willow?!"

"I don't know, Ahn, it's probably some stupid British thing."

"Well, it's stupid. I am a capable, intelligent female-organ-having human and I demand that respect!" Anya finished strongly and banged her fist on the glass counter of the Magic Shop.

Xander, her fiancé, nodded from his spot in the round table, books and charms spilled out in front of him. There had been an incident with the owners of the house Xander's team had been hired to build; apparently, they were eaten in some freak "bicycle" accident and now the big CEO's were having a field day trying to decipher out what's what. All teams had been given the day off.

"We all respect you for your female-organ-having-ness." Xander agreed and popped a doughnut-hole into his mouth, licking off the sugar from his fingertips with glee. "I know I do." He garbled.

"I know you do, honey. You like your orgasms very much."

Xander choked slightly.

Taking no notice, Anya began to hum. She bent down to get something from under the counter and when she stood again, in her hands lay a little black box. She cracked open the lid and took out the diamond engagement ring. She sighed.

Xander flipped around. He knew that sigh and it was always followed by a single question:

"When can we tell them, Xander?"

"When the time is right, sweetie." He stood and went to hold his fiancé's hands within his own. She was frowning sadly into the clear jewel. "I know you want to tell our friends about it but it's just not right, now, I mean. Buffy's back, and not from the place we thought she was, and Giles is gone and-,"

Clearly, the argument he was presenting wasn't enough to convince his unhappy Anya.

"- And a bunch of things that are really complicated and I just don't think now is the right time."

"You said that before." The ex-demon grumbled.

"Because I believe it to be the truth."

Her brown eyes raised themselves into his. "Do you repeat that you love me?"

"Every day. Every time I wake up, every time I go to sleep and especially when I hold you in my arms." He then leaned over the counter to kiss her forehead, nose, and chin.

"I don't hear you," Anya murmured quietly.

"It's more of a prayer because I know it was luck or something else that I found you."

Her eyes suddenly watery, Anya kissed Xander right on the mouth, picked up the ring, put it back in its box and stowed it away until later. Then she turned her devilish eyes back to Xander, biting softly on her lip.

"I know where Giles kept the 'out for lunch' sign."

"And I just finished adding another spring vault in Buffy's training room."


It was night, the air baring slight resemblance to fall. Not winter, not even close, Buffy grumbled.

The Slayer was taking her nightly rounds around the Sunnydale cemeteries, staking, Slaying and brutally injuring whatever she deemed worthy of her wrath. However, on a vampire/demon/Slayer ratio, it had been a slow night.

They're probably going to wait until I'm really sleeyp then decide to leap out and try to do their dastardly deeds. Buffy heaved herself onto a large stone crypt, a certain blonde vampire making wild motions in her head. But as of right now, the sex drive was an unusual low, the image of his… toned body not bringing the right sense of heat and fire to her head. Maybe because if they did happen to cross paths, it would require some sense of communication between the dead thing and her to get things going. And that was simply too much effort.

Buffy lay flat on top of the cold, stone crypt, looking up at the stars, the night silent and cool.

Maybe he could just appear like he usually did and take her off to where ever to do whatever, and he wouldn't have to open his annoyingly truthful fat mouth. He was usually pretty good at arousing her at random times or places, finding her in moments she didn't want to be found.

If he climbed up here with her, that'd be fine too.

Ok, sex drive, not dead but the effort it took to find the stupid bastard was more than Buffy really wanted to deal with.

The hand around the wooden stake jumped as she heard a rustle of plant behind her. Vampire, for sure. Spike? Possibly. Vampire that was trying to kill the innocent and the next course of action was kicking it in the face, whether or not it was Spike? Yes.

Buffy rolled and heeled the thing in its face, dropping off the crypt. It howled and leapt away, when one of its buddies appeared and lunged forward. The Slayer drop-stepped, kicked away its legs and dusted it before it hit the ground.

"Hey, this wasn't so hard-,"


A third vampire wrestled her to the ground, its bloody mouth breathing hot and smelly air into Buffy's face.

"Dude," she scowled and punched him off her. "Breath. Mint."

As she swept to her feet, she suddenly realized she was surrounded. The vampires were in a half-circle and slowly advancing forward.

Spike, if you're watching, now would be a great time for a heroic save!

Like a bolt of neon lighting, blue ripped open the sky and winds at twenty miles-an-hour hurled grass, tombstones and anything else not firmly attached to the ground into the pitch-black-night.

One glance to all the company, and the vamps scampered off into the night, howling and screaming as though on fire. But the Slayer felt compelled to stay. Maybe a HUGE demon was about to fall out and it was her duty to make it dead, or deader. Maybe she was about to be transported by the Powers That Be to some alternate universe.

There was a world of Maybe's and none too perfect but the Slayer couldn't tear her eyes away from the open sore in the sky. It pulsed and swirled, angry and furious. Lightening clapped and Buffy squinted her eyes. What IS that?

Something was spinning towards her and as soon Buffy realized what it was, she threw her arms open to catch it. The object fell into the Slayer's outstretched hands and then the world was quiet. The scar was gone and the night was as it had been before. Well, not entirely.

For staring up into Buffy's wide-eyed face, was a little girl of around two. Her arms thick and chubby, with baby-fat clinging onto them for dear life. She had tiny, plump feet dangling out from an old USC t-shirt. She was gnawing on her stubby fingers with a look of pure glee on her face. She had only a couple of new teeth.

Yes, this little girl did just fall out of the sky with no apparently reason or any demonic parents following her about, but there was one thing about her that frightened Buffy to the core.

This little girl had wide green eyes, exactly like Buffy's own. Her soft brown hair hung in ringlets about her dimpled face. Why was this toddler so familiar?!

The girl grinned and burst out laughing at something that only she could see before squishing her eyes together. Buffy nearly dropped her when she opened them again.

Her eyes were a deep yellow now and from teeth-less gums, sprouted two glistening fangs.

The little girl giggled fiercely again, hiccupped and morphed back into her human face. Those green eyes stared up at the Slayer again. Then she spoke a word that Buffy was afraid she never here, and yet, now she hoped to God she'd never hear it again.


The little girl giggled again.

A/N: Bit of a usual hum-dum Spuffy stuff, and there will be more Spuffy related action in the coming chapters, but as of now, read and review please! Any suggestions for names are greatly appreciated!