Chapter Forty-Five
It was midnight when they arrived at the edge of Natchez. The Millers—in exchange for the hefty bonus Giles provided alongside the extended time they had spent at the Wensel House—were more than amicable in the final request that they lend the group of twelve a ride to the place they had left the wrecked Winnebago. It took three cars and one of the Millers’ close friend’s assistance to get everyone out at the same time, but with all consideration to what had happened since the Scoobies and the Senior Staffers checked in nearly three weeks earlier, it was almost akin to helping a relative.
The Winnebago itself, aside being banged up in the front, was deemed drivable as long as the targeted distance wasn’t too great. Willow and Faith were still unconscious with no presumed time on when they might awake. It was surprising enough that either had survived. Given that, they were placed on opposing bunks in the very back, Faith restrained with the handcuffs Donna and the redhead had given Spike and Buffy for Christmas.
Not that it would hold her if she awoke with the intent to run, but it was enough. For now.
The others were standing at the edge of town, gazing down a black river of concrete. Standing there in the aftermath of battle. The final testament in the reality of Quirinias’s defeat.
In the right hand of the Communications Director was one of the recovered bouncy balls, its owner enjoying a small game of catch with God. It was necessary but nerve-wracking. Somehow, after the display at Longwood, after something that had nearly killed them all, it still came down to this.
“Well, Toby,” Josh urged after a few uneventful minutes. “Whenever you’re ready.”
The man quirked a small smile, then cranked his arm and pitched the ball into the face of the invisible barricade. And all watched as it soared into the night, bouncing lightly off the pavement before it vanished into the shadows.
“Wahoo!” Xander screamed, lifting Anya into a hug.
Buffy just sighed in relief and collapsed against Spike’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as he squeezed her in reassurance.
Sam took Donna into a hug, released her, then grabbed Toby before he could object. There was, in fact, not one person on the road that night that did not get a victory hug from Sam. The Watchers merely stood in their collective respite and took turns shaking the hand of the Communications Director when he approached.
It was an indescribable feeling. One of those to look back upon and reflect. Somewhere between shouts of joy and tears of reprieved happiness. The line was so thin it was barely discernable. Standing at the edge of forever. The world had not ended. There would be a tomorrow.
As the celebration died, Giles turned to the Deputy Chief of Staff and nodded. “Josh?”
Josh grinned at him like a loon as though he had said something highly significant, then reached for the cell phone that he would likely never return to Donna. Never so happy to punch in the phone number that would remain burned in his memory long after the Bartlet administration had left the White House. “Leo?” he said just seconds later. Then paused, grinned, and quipped, “What’s next?”
It was over. Time, then, to move on.
Time for what was next.
*~*~*
It was a surprise to everyone when Willow awoke just as they reached Jackson. The redhead’s gasp rang clear through the secret service vehicle, the man at her side reaching for her instantly as Giles twisted in his seat to watch his other daughter come back to life.
Her eyes opened without struggle; clear, knowledged. Rooted in some form of deeper understanding. She turned immediately and found herself curled in Sam’s protective embrace, his eyes warming with relief.
“Oh, thank God.”
Spike turned as best he could, his arms preoccupied with Buffy, who was fast asleep at his shoulder. “Red?”
Giles nodded. “She’s awake.”
“Very awake,” Willow observed, sitting up with a smile that contradicted her exhaustion. “What happened?”
“It’s over,” Sam replied quickly, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “We’re about to Jackson now.”
“It’s over?”
“Over,” Spike agreed. “Saved the world, Red. Never seen anythin’ like that.”
“I did?”
Sam nodded proudly. “You did. Though don’t tell that to Josh. He has a thing where, since he was a part of the three, he’s gotten it into his head that he saved the world.”
Buffy murmured slightly against Spike’s shoulder before lifting her head. “Mmmm. Yeah. Sure, he saved the world,” she added, meeting her boyfriend’s eyes with a hint of sleepy mischief. “When the circle broke, he grabbed me and ran.”
“As any sane person would’ve done,” the vampire murmured, whispering a kiss at her temple. “Saucy minx. Thought you were asleep.”
“Playing possum. Sleep is for the plane.” She turned slightly so she could meet her friend’s eyes. “You okay, Will?”
“A little sore, but okay.” The redhead’s gaze widened in concern. “You?”
“A little sore.”
“Yeah. I kinda remember the part where I sucked out your strength.” She winced, though it was impossible to tell whether it was out of lamentation or her aforementioned discomfort. “Sorry.”
Buffy shrugged and leaned back against her mate. “Advantage one of being a god,” she replied. “Strength? Not that difficult to come by. My muscles just feel a little worn.”
Spike arched a brow, his embrace constricting protectively. “Whatever hit Quirinias hit the Slayer, too,” he said. “Jus’ enough to make her bleed. Think that thing was designated for any god within a ten mile radius.”
“Oh God. Buffy—”
“I’m okay,” the blonde reassured her, pinching the vampire with a mixture of scold and playfulness. “Just a little sore. And, again, god.”
“You sure?” Sam asked. “That was—”
“It wasn’t meant for me. I just felt the burn. Really, really okay. And if you make me say god again, I won’t turn any water into wine for Christmas.”
Giles blinked in interest. “You can do that?”
Spike smiled wryly. “Li’l eager there, aren’t you, you holiday drunk?”
“Holiday?” Toby ventured from the front.
“You’re one to talk,” the Watcher drawled, glancing at the vampire sardonically.
“Jus’ sayin’, mate. Slayer has power to sire gods.” He tugged Buffy even closer in a silent gesture of comfort alongside with jest. “Water to wine? Parlor tricks an’ all that. Was when the ancient wanker made it popular.”
“Yeah,” Willow agreed drolly. “Started a fad, he did.”
Buffy grinned and buried her face in Spike’s shoulder, and the warmth in the gesture calmed him in the face of their next storm. The time it would take to adjust to her new life. Gone right from awaking a god into being one. She had been granted no time for recognition—rather, fate had shoved her into the brunt of it without pausing for acceptance.
As though tapping into his sentiment, the redhead broke through the small silence, her voice degrees away from where it had been just seconds before. “You don’t know, do you?” she asked softly.
Sam frowned. “Who doesn’t know what, Willow?”
“Buffy.” She drew in a breath. “How powerful you are.”
Spike tensed as the girl in his arms went rigid. He bit back the instinctive need to scream at her for bringing it up at all. Bringing it up in a manner that was not so readily dismissed under a veil of whimsy. “Red,” he hissed warningly. “Don’t.”
It was like talking to a brick wall and getting a better response.
“What I felt,” the Witch continued, her voice calm and unwavering, though not without an ominous note. “It was more powerful than…I was only able to do whatever I did because of you. What I…”
A dangerous air thundered through the vampire’s body, his temper failing him and his eyes flashing yellow. With a jerk, he had twisted with a menacing snarl. “Stop it!” he roared. “You insensitive—”
“Spike!” Sam barked contemptuously. “That’s enough!”
“Tell your own bird that, will you, mate?”
Buffy licked her lips, settling her hand over his. “Spike…”
“She is, though,” Willow continued, frowning. “And she needs to know it. She needs to know how powerful she is. I don’t remember that much of what happened, but I do remember feeling it. What she has. I remember I had to borrow it, and—”
Had the Slayer not settled her grip around her mate’s wrist, there was every possibility that he would have leapt into the back and convinced her friend to shut up in the more vampiric, less conventional way. “Spike,” she said again. Soft. Imploring. “It’s all right, sweetie. I should know. I’ll have to understand it…I just…” A breath shuddered through her body. “Just…Willow. Not now. Okay?”
“Buffy—”
“Yes. Me powerful. Message well heard and even received. I just don’t want to think about it now.”
“Wonder if she’d have any influence on Republican leadership,” Toby muttered absently. “Just make everyone forget that Lillianfield exists or that the President wasn’t elected with a mandate.”
“We have enough demons in the party,” Sam replied with a humorless chuckle. “Let’s leave the real ones for the GOP.”
Willow made a noncommittal sound and leaned back. “So we’re getting on the plane in Jackson?” she asked tiredly. “It’s almost hard to believe.”
“The President has ensured that you, Buffy, and Spike have first class seats,” the Deputy Communications Director added. “Wes, Xander, and Anya…well, the President asked Josh who saved the world…and after Josh admitted that it wasn’t just him, he named you three specifically.”
Spike perked a brow. “Me?”
“I think it was more a favor to Buffy. And he respects the way you held Buffy down when she was possessed, even if he’ll never tell you to your face.” Sam grinned in spite of himself. “But yes.”
“Bloody rich,” the vampire said appraisingly.
Willow frowned. “What about Giles?”
“He’s flying first class, too.”
“Only I’m not going back to Sunnydale,” the elder Watcher clarified. “I’m going back to England for a few weeks.”
The redhead frowned. “Why?”
A sigh rang through the air. “It might be the worst mistake I could make, but we cannot take any chances with Faith. Once she wakes up…if she wakes up…she will be a god as well. And an unbalanced Slayer with that sort of power…she needs to be kept under supervision. Under…the Watcher Council’s custody.”
Buffy went rigid, her eyes widening in horror. “Faith a god?”
“She underwent the same process as you did,” Giles said gravely. “There is no reason to believe that she won’t have inherited the same powers. And even so, I refuse to forgo any precaution.”
The Slayer licked her lips and nodded her agreement. “God powers plus insane plus Faith,” she mused. “I’m really not liking that combination.”
“I can assure you, you’re not the only one,” Toby murmured. “The girl almost destroyed the world and your best suggestion is rehabilitation?”
“The Council will have a method of detaining her if need be,” Giles said reassuringly, though his voice rang with doubt that he refused to confirm. The display at Longwood was a clear indication on just how much power went into restraining a god; he felt no compulsion to reiterate what they had all just been through. “Regardless, I have every reason to believe that her behavior in Natchez was a result of what was happening to her. Faith is not known for her candor, by any means, but she isn’t the type to do what she did to Sam…what she did.”
The redhead bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes flashed with anger. “Yeah,” she agreed shortly. “Only she did it to Sam. I think Sam was there and that Sam remembers.”
“Willow—”
“No. She did the same thing to Xander, for crying out loud.” Her gaze went wide and her fists clenched furiously. “Does no one remember that?”
Spike cocked an interested brow. “The Slayer shagged Harris? Prob’ly the best bloody ride the boy’ll ever get.”
“Not helping, sweetie,” Buffy murmured, patting his hand. “And how exactly would you know?”
“Wouldn’t an’ don’t wanna.” He shrugged. “Jus’ goin’ off what I know of Stay Puft’s way too vocal sex life.”
“She tried to kill him, Spike!” Willow yelped. “If Angel hadn’t shown up, she would have.”
“’m not sayin’ she’s a peach, luv,” the vampire retorted. “Fact, were it not for the likelihood of my gettin’ staked, I’d off the bird myself. She’s given me more than enough reason to.”
“That and the chip,” Buffy reminded him.
“Right, the chip. Let’s never forget the chip.”
Willow tilted her head. “Would the chip even work anymore?”
Spike smiled dryly. “I’d wager not, though ‘f the bint’s a god, that’s one fight I’m not liable to pick.”
Giles cleared his throat. “The point is, Faith is about to go through something as well. The Council has already tried to kill her once…and despite my opinion of her, I fear she might have been through more than we will ever know. That being said, regardless of her past…she is a god now. A god that will perhaps never awake from the coma you put her in, Willow.”
“Another coma,” the Slayer muttered.
“The power used against her was considerably stronger than the power used against Buffy,” the Watcher added. “It was to defeat a god that already existed, not ward off a god from possessing the body of his own creation. You said it yourself—it took Buffy’s presence…her newly developed powers to do the spell in the first place. Magic that potent is not easy to recover from. There is every possibility that she will never awaken.”
Willow licked her lips, sulking back. “More than she deserves,” she grumbled, though her voice lacked conviction. That inherent knowledge that refused to die: no matter how terrible a person was, forgiveness was always a virtue.
Lousy knowledge.
Sam sighed and tugged her into his arms. “It’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
“There is no point arguing about this now,” Giles reasoned. “You just saved the world…I believe you’re entitled to a break.”
Buffy’s brows perked as she snuggled again into Spike’s side, weariness weighing in over interest. She felt she could sleep through the next century. “We get those?”
“Hardly ever.”
The redhead shrugged. “Nice in theory.”
“Very. Might as well get one in now before it’s too late.” The blonde tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sigh, resting her head at her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Wake me up in time for the next apocalypse.”
Spike chuckled wryly and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “You got it, sweetling.”
“You think there will be another apocalypse between here and the airport?” Sam asked worriedly. “Because, really, I don’t think I could handle more than one a week. Especially with as drawn out as that last one was. And—”
Willow smiled at him. “She was kidding.”
“Oh. Good, then.”
It was bordering three in the morning when the two secret service vehicles roared into Jackson, Mississippi. Not even twelve hours following the minute the Rite of Thrieve began. Since the ground quaked and the sky roared. Since a witch had touched power beyond her wildest recognition. Since a god had tried to pick them off before taking his crack at the world.
A god that was never gone. Not really. Just banished for a few hundred years until another Sam Seaborn decided to read out of a book.
A matter of hours, and it already felt a lifetime away. All gone so simply.
The earth was still quaking, though. A slow reminder that would never die. The ripple effect established. Lives changed forever. A haphazard meeting in a small country town, and their lives had changed forever. All their lives.
Perhaps it had been the apocalypse in that regard. One world had ended. One world was gone and could never again be theirs. A world away from where they had once lived.
And here they were, racing down the highway toward the new one. A hazy future where no one called the shots. Where the rules of life no longer applied. A world where anything was up for grabs.
The past was left in Natchez and could never be rekindled. They had made it this far. They had taken each step without realizing that they were crossing the Rubicon in the process.
The past was left in Natchez. The road ahead was a whole new game.
*~*~*
Giles and Faith had been gone an hour and a half by the time it was announced that the flight to Los Angeles could begin boarding. And in retrospect, watching Xander and Anya dive down the terminal was liberating in a fashion; there was something to be said for those who did exactly what everyone else wanted to do without qualm.
Wesley followed in time after bidding adieu to Donna and thanking the Senior Staffers for a number of things that he was too tired to list off. The strain of a long, unending day bore down without pity. And though the departure would undoubtedly affect Willow the most, Buffy and Spike stayed with her to express a similarity in farewells.
Donna all but had to be pried away from the vampire, and she was crying so much one would have thought her favorite uncle had just died.
“Calm down,” Josh murmured self-consciously. “It’s not like we’re not going to see them again.”
“Yeah,” Willow added, putting up a brave face as she took the woman who had quickly become one of her best friends in her arms. It was nice to not be the most emotionally unbalanced, all things considered. “If need be, I have a list with every phone number Sam has ever dialed in my purse. I know yours was on there somewhere.”
“Besides, you know the President,” the Deputy Chief of Staff continued. “He’s gonna be mad as hell when we turn up in DC without a vampire for him to grill on Roman history.”
Spike arched a brow. “He does know I’m not Roman, right?”
“Honestly,” the Communications Director said slowly. “I don’t think it matters.”
The vampire smirked. “Well, guess it helps to have blokes in high places who fancy gettin’ to know you.”
Toby stared at him. “Yeah. Never call the President a ‘bloke.’”
Donna laughed a little at that, her head ducking in a random bout of embarrassment for her outburst. “So…you guys really will come and visit?”
A flight reminder came in over the intercom. They were running out of time.
“Worryin’ for nothin’,” Spike informed her. “Pet, Red’s datin’ one of you. I think it’ll be bloody hard to not come an’ visit. An’…” He paused, then leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, “’f Curly gives you any problems, you know who to ring.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Spike—”
“’S’all right. Secret’s safe an’ all that.”
“Not really much of a secret.”
Josh went tense. “Donna…”
Spike pulled back at that and winked at him. “Take care of her,” he said warningly, wrapping his arm around Buffy. “’S not a good idea to brass off a vamp.”
“Neutered or otherwise,” Willow teased.
“Dirty pool.”
“And not so,” the Slayer argued, approaching that level of exhaustion that was beyond tired and progressively past slaphappy. “We better go before we’re packed into Donna’s suitcase.”
Spike nodded. “Right then, mates. Have at it, don’ screw up the country too much, an’ give us a ring before Prissy decides to start the next big one.”
Sam frowned. “Hey!”
“Absolutely,” Josh agreed, turning to look at his friend. “You’re not allowed to read anymore.”
“Visit us!” Donna implored.
“I don’t think not visiting’s an option,” Buffy assured her. “You have my number right? Call me when you get in.”
“Only don’,” the vampire added. “She’ll be out for days.”
“Hey…”
“Need your rest, sweetheart. Savin’ the world’s tough business. As Curly, ‘m sure, would love to tell you.”
Josh grinned unrepentantly and shrugged. “I can run with the best of them. It was great saving the world with you, Buffy.”
She cracked a smile at that. “You, too. Take care.”
Another minute and her fatigue would have overwhelmed her completely. Spike guided her into the terminal and they were out of sight within seconds. And then it was just Willow.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh and a slight smile, the last call for their flight ringing appropriately over the intercom. “Well. Dorothy moment. Ummm…”
It wasn’t difficult to decipher what she wasn’t making a show of saying. Donna tugged at Josh, who in turn tugged at Toby. “We better go see when we’re due to take off,” she said. “Willow?”
The Witch smiled. “I’ll give you a call when we get in. If I’m, you know, not burrowed under my bed or something.”
That seemed to satisfy. And then the others were gone as well.
And she was alone with Sam.
She didn’t know who had stepped forward first. If her arms had found refuge in his embrace or if he had beaten her to the punch. But at that moment, the crashing reality of what stepping on the plane meant hit her at full blast, and all the rest didn’t matter. It was really happening. She was really leaving him. In Natchez, the concept of mapping out a long-distance relationship had seemed so simple. Simple, for the notion was buried in that if we get out file. Way down the road; far from her inspection. Far placed from concern. She had never expected it to happen so fast.
Suddenly it was time to say goodbye. And the fact that he was trembling as much as she was brought it all home.
“Call me when you get in,” he murmured. “Home. Cell. Office. All three. Just…do it, okay? And if you don’t, I’ll—”
“I’ll call,” she whispered, drawing back to kiss him, tasting tears that had come from nowhere on her lips. She didn’t know if they belonged to her; their tears, it seemed, tasted the same. “And I’ll start saving for a trip to DC.”
“No. I can have you flown out.”
“The press—”
“Screw the press. I love you. You think I’m going to let the press stand in the way of that?” He kissed her forehead poignantly.
“Sam—”
“If you spend your money to see me, I’ll just pay you back, anyway.”
“You’re—”
“You’re going to miss your flight.” He sighed and glanced down. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
She licked her lips. “Yeah.”
“I love you.”
Her cheeks flushed at that and she glanced down. How she had ever managed to win Sam’s love, she would never know. It seemed like so much time had passed, and yet she hadn’t known him for even a month yet. A man whose career was far placed from anywhere she would see. A man who had a future that couldn’t possibly connect with hers. And yet, with him was such idealism, such sincerity, that she could allow herself to believe for now that he would find a way to make it work. That she could be with him and be a witch. Be a nineteen-year-old undergraduate who lived across the country.
She could get on the plane and pretend it wouldn’t be the end of their fling, even if he never admitted it. Sam was from a different world. A world far from hers; theirs had just bumped accidentally. A shortcut back to reality.
But she loved him—god help her she did. And as long as she did, she would try everything to make it work. Even if it blew up in her face.
This was worth it. Whatever the future held, this was worth it.
“I love you, too,” she said, kissing him one last time. “And I’ll call as soon as I get in.”
“Please.”
“I will.”
It was time to turn around now. Time to pull herself from his arms and walk away. Board the plane to California and return to her life. Return to the empty dorm room and the classes she had nearly forgotten. Return to the place that had been her home such a short while ago.
Leaving the man she loved behind. Leaving him to return to his life.
A continent apart.
TBC