It's Not Where You Start Out (16/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net

Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.

Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and including "The Gift."

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16.

"Thank you for your patronage. Have a nice day!" Anya said brightly with a wide, cheerful smile as she closed the cash register drawer and handed the customer his bag. It was her favorite part of her job; the money was in the drawer and the customer was leaving. He walked through the door, ringing the bells as he went and Anya let her grin fade. Business was slow for a Friday afternoon, which normally would annoy her, but today that was a good thing. She was nervous about this whole deception plan, mostly about Xander spending the day holed up in a crypt with Spike and Dawn, and worry didn't exactly sharpen her sales skills. Not that she was afraid that Spike would do anything; she believed he was trustworthy. But a crypt in a cemetery was just not a good place to be, and it would be getting dark soon.

She sighed. Sometimes she missed her demon days when she didn't worry about people who weren't her.

The door chimes jingled and Anya pasted on her chipper customer smile again, but it faltered slightly when she saw who had entered. Five very large and imposing men had stepped into the shop and the largest one came down the steps and headed toward the counter. He didn't look much like someone who would frequent a magic shop, but Anya forced her smile back on.

"Welcome to the Magic Box. How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for Spike. Heard he lives here."

Anya let the smile drop again. She was in no mood for one of Spike's old friends -- or old enemies. "He's not here. Now please leave, unless you care to buy something."

The man did not leave, however. He leaned menacingly across the counter toward her. Anya backed away reflexively.

"Where is he then?"

"I- I'm not sure. I don't keep track of where Spike goes."

"It's daylight out. Not many places a guy like him could go with the sun shining."

Anya folded her arms, starting to get irritated. "He's out. Please leave."

"I don't think so, missy."

He lunged at her suddenly, but Anya was quick and dodged to the side. Looking around her, she grabbed the heaviest thing she could find, a stone statue of a fertility god, and swung it towards the intruder's head. He ducked out of the way and made another lunge for her, but she turned and ran through the beaded curtain at the side of the counter and up into the nook area right outside the basement door. She only made it about three steps, however, before two of the men who had been waiting near the front door intercepted her and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms back. She kicked out and struggled in a vain attempt to free herself.

The first man came up to them and pulled out a long knife which he pointed right under Anya's chin. She flinched as he stuck his face very close to hers, his warm and foul-smelling breath hitting her in the face.

"I'm done asking nicely. You give it your best guess where Spike might be and you and me and my friends are gonna go there and check. We find Spike, you get to go home. We don't, then you'll be keeping us company a while longer. You understand?"

"Y-yes," Anya nodded, swallowing hard and wishing fervently for her old demon powers. This man's look would be much improved with his entrails hanging out.

"Where should we go then?"

"The cemetery. I think he's in a crypt in the cemetery."

----------

Lisa watched from the doorway of a storefront across the street from the Magic Box as five of those men hauled Anya away. She'd overheard them discussing where to go and Anya saying the name of a cemetery, and she wondered a moment if she should follow them there, then thought better of it. She needed to find a phone and call Willow at that bar.

She waited a few minutes until they were gone, then started down the street towards the Expresso Pump to use their phone. She was almost there when she saw Buffy sitting on the sidewalk outside the cafe, an odd blank look on her face.

"Buffy?" Lisa asked, approaching. It sure *looked* like Buffy anyway. She wondered if Willow and Tara had fed her a story.

Buffy looked up at her and smiled. "Oh, hello. You're that girl. Dawn's friend. I'm glad those men didn't get you."

Lisa looked at her closely. "Are you really a robot?" she asked.

Buffy frowned. "No one is supposed to know that. I'm supposed to be Buffy."

Lisa shook her head, amazed. "You look *exactly* like her."

She smiled. "Thank you!"

"What are you doing here?"

The smile left her face. "I finished my job. I let the men take Dawn and now I'm waiting for someone to come and get me."

"I guess that's me," Lisa replied. "I was supposed to take you to the Magic Box, but I have to call Willow first. Those guys grabbed Anya. They were taking her to Sunnydale Memorial Gardens."

"I know that place! That's where Spike lives!" the robot said brightly.

Lisa thought a minute. "No, Spike lives in the Magic Box," she said, "but I think Dawn said he used to live in a cemetery somewhere. Maybe that's where they're taking Anya." She looked at the robot. "Can you fight like Buffy can?"

"Yes. I'm very strong."

"Maybe you should go there, then. Maybe you can rescue Anya."

"Yes, that's a good idea. I'll go to Spike's crypt and rescue Anya," the robot agreed, standing. "Thank you for the instructions, Dawn's Friend."

"Lisa."

"Thank you Dawn's Friend Lisa." She then turned and left and Lisa went inside the Expresso Pump to make her phone call.

----------

Willow strode into Willy's Place with Tara behind her and headed straight for the bar. A bartender was there, lazily stacking shot glasses on the bar, but it wasn't Willy. Without pausing, Willow said in her strong, no-nonsense voice, "Where's Willy?"

"Willy aint here," he replied, without looking up from his shot glass tower.

Willow put both hands down on the bar and leaned over. "Where is he then?"

The bartender looked up and gave her a patronizing grin. "Listen, girlie, why don't you--"

Willow slammed her hand down hard on the counter, her eyes turning black. She snapped her head toward the shot glasses and the entire tower went flinging across the bar and landed with a huge crash of broken glass on the floor beyond. "WHERE IS WILLY?"

"Hey!" the bartender cried out. "All right already! He's in back!"

"Go get him then," Willow said calmly but firmly.

The man left quickly, and Willow glanced back at Tara, who was biting her lip uneasily.

"I don't have time to play nice," Willow said defensively. Her use of the more dark powers was a source of friction between her and Tara, but finding Buffy was her top priority right now and she was going to use whatever tools were available to her to do so.

"I didn't say anything," Tara said so quietly Willow almost couldn't hear her. But her eyes were loud with disapproval.

"I--"

"Aw man, not one of the Slayer's little pals again. You guys are killing me, you know that?"

Willow turned to see Willy emerging from the back room. "I need information," she said quickly.

"You got some money I take it?"

Willow turned her head back to the bar and a bottle of Jim Beam flew off the shelf and toward Willy, who ducked in time for the bottle to sail over his head to smash against the wall behind him, the crash of breaking glass almost drowning out the sound of the telephone ringing.

"Hey! Watch it with the stock!" Willy cried out while the bartender, looking glad to have an excuse to get out of Willow's way, quickly went to pick up the phone.

"*If* I'm not very cranky when I leave here, I will pay you back for the shot glasses and bottle I broke. Now, Spike was here last night. You told him where to find the guy who paid you to rat out Ethan Rayne. Now you're going to tell me all about this guy and the monks he works for. Like where else they'd go besides that church they're using."

"You're joking me, right? This is just one big joke on Willy?"

"Do I sound like I'm in a very funny mood?"

"I mean, Spike's looking for Hawk, then Hawk's looking for Spike, now you're looking for Hawk--"

Willow frowned. "What do you mean Hawk's looking for Spike?"

"Hey, your name Willow? Phone's for you," the bartender cut in. Willow glanced at Tara. The only person who knew they were here was Lisa, who had been instructed to call if she saw the mercenaries.

"Oh great, now the Slayer's buddies are taking calls here? What's next, you gonna set up an office?"

"Shut up and tell me about this Hawk guy," Willow said as she went for the phone.

"The guy, the one I set Spike up with. You just missed him. He was here like a half hour ago, looking for Spike. I sent him to the magic shop."

Willow frowned, then took the phone. "Hello?"

"Willow, it's Lisa. Those guys were at the Magic Box. They carted off Anya. I found the Buffy robot and she went after them."

"Where'd they go?" Willow asked.

"A cemetery. Sunnydale Memorial Gardens."

Willow dropped the phone and spun around to Tara. "They grabbed Anya at the Magic Box and they're headed to the cemetery. They must be looking for Spike. And if they find him, they'll find--"

"Dawn," Tara finished, her eyes widening. The two girls rushed from the bar.

"Hey, what about my money!" Willy called out after them.

"Send me a bill!" Willow shouted back over her shoulder.

----------

"Double Pair Royal," Dawn said, laying her cards down with a smile. "Twelve points, right?"

"Yeah," Spike grumbled, throwing his own hand down in disgust. "I got bleeding nineteen."

Dawn looked at his cards. "No you don't. You've only got--"

"It's an expression, sweet bit. Means I haven't got jack." Spike leaned back away from their makeshift card table on top of the cooler. "This innocent bit is an act, innit? You're a bloody card shark."

Dawn smiled broadly and Spike scowled at her. After she had handily beaten both Spike and Xander out of most of the Doritos playing poker, Xander had left to go get some pizza and Spike had started teaching her cribbage and she was pretty much kicking his ass there, too.

"That's it, I'm done." He stood up and stretched his legs and went over to the door. Opening it cautiously, he looked outside. It wasn't dusk yet, but almost. He was dying for a cigarette, but didn't like to smoke around Dawn indoors. There was a lot of shade around the doorway to the crypt and he considered risking it, then rejected the plan. The shade was dappled, with some sunlight filtering through, and a slight breeze made it a little dicey. It was only twenty minutes or so tops before the sun dropped low enough to completely shade the area.

"Do you think they got her yet?"

Spike turned around and faced Dawn, who was still sitting by the cooler. "Dunno," he said quietly, *really* wanting that cigarette now. "I'd think they'd wait till dark, but you never know."

"You think she'll be safe? From the ritual?"

"Yeah," Spike lied, "I'm sure it can't do anything to her."

"Liar."

//You *suck* at lying,// Buffy had said. Damn. "The lovewiccas will watch over her," Spike assured her. He looked back outside, willing the sun to set.

"Wonder where Xander is with that pizza," Dawn said in a valiant effort to change the subject. "I'm starving."

"How can you be starving, you got the whole bag of Doritos," Spike pointed out.

"Doritos just make you *more* hungry."

Outside Spike heard someone approaching. "Well, you're in luck. Looks like he's--"

"Spike! Are you here?"

Spike frowned and cocked his head warily. "That sounds like the demonette." Her voice sounded oddly high-pitched and false, even for Anya.

"Maybe she's bringing the pizza," Dawn said.

"Niblet, why don't you get down inside the tunnel under there," Spike told her edgily.

"Why? It's just Anya."

"Something's wrong."

"Paranoid much?" Dawn scoffed.

He looked over at her. "Anya, in the cemetery, before the shop's closing time?"

Dawn's eyes widened. "Something's wrong," she agreed, then quickly went over to the hole in the floor beside the sarcophagus. Spike joined her there and pulled the cover open so she could climb in.

"Stay put until I come and get you," he instructed Dawn as she climbed down the ladder, then he slid the cover back in place.

"Spike! It's Anya! I need to talk to you!" he heard her call form outside, closer now. She definitely sounded stressed.

"Stop bellowing, I'm right here at the crypt," he called back out when he reached the doorway. Cautiously he peered outside.

Suddenly she emerged from behind a large tombstone -- and holding her from behind, a knife pointed at her throat, was Hawk, the monk's mercenary.

"Bloody hell," Spike groaned as four more men, all brandishing large wooden stakes, stepped out and surrounded Hawk and Anya. They were all carefully arrayed in pools of sunlight, Spike noted. "Didn't get enough last night, eh toad man?" His eyes met Anya's. She looked equal parts scared and pissed off. If he could goad the wanker into letting her go to come after him, she'd probably nail him with a rock. He'd seen her do damage with nothing more formidable than a frying pan.

"That's right, vampire. I wanted to see how tough you are in the daylight."

"Tougher than you are holding a girl at knifepoint, you ponce."

"Tell you what. You come over here for a little chat and I'll let her go."

"Yeah, I'm gonna walk out in the sunlight. I wasn't turned yesterday. You wanna have a go? Help yourself." He swept his arm into the crypt in an inviting gesture.

"No, I like it out here," Hawk snarled. "There oughta be enough shade out here for you. Otherwise I'm gonna have to poke a few new holes in the princess here."

Spike eyed the distance between him and the group of humans and the patches of waning sunlight that dotted the grass. If he could stall for a little while longer the shadows would be long enough to give him access to the entire area. He shrugged and leaned against the door jamb, affecting indifference. "Like I care. I'm a vampire, not a social worker."

"Fine." Grabbing Anya more tightly and traced the tip of the knife down her cheek, drawing blood.

"OW!" she cried, trying to struggle away from him. "That had better not leave a scar! I have my wedding coming soon!"

So much for the bluff. "All right!" Spike called out. "Leave her alone, you sodding coward." He took a step out from the doorway, carefully avoiding the light.

Hawk lowered the knife, but kept his grip on Anya. He gave Spike a leering grin and said, "Not quite as big in the daylight, are you?"

"Me?" Spike asked. "I'm not the one who'd rather let a bit of sunlight do all the work for him."

"What can I say? I just want you dead. I don't care how you get there."

"I'm *already* dead, moron." Spike took another careful step, then saw something move out of the corner of his eye. How many men did he bring anyway? He surreptitiously looked to his left to see if he could get a look at whoever was there -- and had to hide his relief when he saw it was Xander, quietly circling around behind Hawk and his goons. Spike flicked his eyes back to Hawk.

"I want you *more* dead," the mercenary shot back.

Spike took another slow step as Xander inched his way closer to Hawk. "Well, what you waiting for then? Here I am, Mr. Sunshine blocking me every which way, and yet you still cling to the lady like a security blanket. You want your mummy too?"

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Then suddenly, he roughly pushed Anya aside. She fell with a cry to the ground, and then all hell broke loose.

In one rush, Xander brought a large piece of stone cracking down on Hawk's head as the mercenary made a lunge toward Spike. This put the other four men in a bit of confusion for a split second, then one of them went after Xander while the other three charged Spike.

Without a lot of maneuvering room because of the sun, there wasn't much Spike could do except throw them off as they came at him. He spun-kicked the first one in the gut, then ducked down under the second. The third one tackled him and Spike landed with his shoulder in sunlight. He cried out in pain and rolled to the side as his shoulder started smoldering, but he couldn't shake his attacker. The man took his stake and was about to ram it home when out of nowhere someone flew at him and knocked him off. Spike quickly retreated to more solid shade and sat up to find Buffy coldcocking the bloke.

Buffy? What was she-- and then he realized. Not Buffy, but the robot. She stood up and smiled gaily at him. "Hello Spike."

"Look out!" he called back, and she spun quickly as one of the mercenaries Spike had ducked earlier launched himself at her. Grabbing him, she flipped him over easily as the other one rushed her as well.

Figuring the robot could handle herself, Spike turned to see if he could help Xander, who was grappling with the fourth soldier while Anya grabbed another piece of rock and tried to bring it down on him without hitting Xander by mistake. She finally got a clear shot when Xander's attacker punched him hard enough to fling him backward. With Xander thus clear of the fray, Anya brought the rock down, missing his head and hitting his arm instead. He howled out in pain and fell to his knees. Then noticing Hawk's knife beside him, he scooped it up and whirled on her.

"Anya!" Xander cried out, but he was too far away to do anything.

Spike was closer. Barely noticing that Anya was standing in full sunlight, he tackled her, grabbing her around the waist and hurling her to the ground. Attacker and knife soared over them and then Spike felt searing pain as his back erupted in flames from the sun. Screaming in agony he rolled off Anya and into the shade, dousing the flames in the grass as he rolled. Xander roared past him and was on top of their attacker, pummeling him into oblivion.

"Spike!" Anya cried out, crawling over to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fire's out now, love," he grunted. "Where're the other two?"

Anya looked up and started rambling, "Looks like they just beat up-- Buffy? What's she-- oh wait, that's the robot, isn't it? How did they beat her? I think we--" She gasped and Spike looked up at her questioningly.

"How'd *you* get away?" he heard one of the mercenaries say, and Spike followed Anya's gaze over to the crypt.

Dawn was standing in the doorway, the two mercenaries looking directly at her.

"Bloody hell!" Spike cried out. "Harris! Crypt!"

Xander looked up and saw the situation. Grabbing the knife from the man he'd just knocked unconscious, he lunged after the other two even as they tried to make a grab for Dawn. Dawn screamed and retreated back into the crypt, both men at her heels, and Anya jumped up and ran after Xander. Spike, ignoring his blistering back, pulled himself onto his feet and lurched forward, sticking to the ever-lengthening shadows.

He reached the crypt just as one of the men grabbed Dawn. She screamed again, then twisted and surprisingly landed a somewhat solid punch on his jaw. Then Xander was on him, stabbing him in the leg with the knife. The second man tried to overpower Xander, but Anya jumped on his back, and he staggered under her weight. Off balance, Anya tumbled backward off of him and then Spike grabbed him with a roar, yanking him hard away from Dawn and flinging him across the crypt where he crashed into the cooler.

Meanwhile, the man with the wounded leg had gotten free of Xander and had made it to his feet and was trying to limp out the door. Spike saw him and moved to intercept. No way this blighter was getting away to tell the monks where the real Dawn was and blowing Buffy's cover. Yanking the man up by the shirt collar, Spike shoved him roughly against the wall and pressed against him.

"You stupid prats never learn, do you now?" he growled dangerously. It was then that the scent of the blood from the wound in the man's leg hit him. He swayed a moment, the appetizing aroma making him almost ravenous with hunger. His face ached, wanting to change into the form that would allow him to drink, to feed the hunger. He licked his lips, but forced himself to stay in his human face. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the man aside toward Xander.

"You take him, Harris. I've had enough of him."

Xander shoved the man hard then pressed the knife tip at his chest. "Do we have anything to tie him up with? We're going to need to keep him here a while. The others too. We'll have to drag 'em in from outside."

Spike nodded. "There's probably some stuff down in the tunnel," he said, but the pain in his back and the hunger in his gut got the better of him and he sank weakly to the ground.

"Spike!" Dawn cried out, rushing to his side.

"I'll go look for rope," Anya said, going for the ladder.

"I'm fine, platelet," Spike said to Dawn. "But *you,* I *told* you to stay in the bloody tunnel!"

"I'm sorry," Dawn apologized, "I just heard fighting and I got worried."

"Yeah, well, letting them get a look at you kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

Dawn looked contrite, but before she could respond a voice called out from the doorway. "Are we done yet? Did they get her?"

Spike turned to see the robot standing in the doorway. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he called out angrily. "Why didn't you stop them?"

She looked confused. "I'm not supposed to stop them. I'm supposed to look like I'm stopping them, but let them get Dawn. I did that once. I'm not sure why it didn't work," she frowned.

Spike groaned. "New programming, pet. We stop them now. Period."

She smiled. "Okay. I like that program better."

Then they heard another voice outside calling for Spike and Xander.

"That sounds like Willow," Xander said.

Dawn's face brightened. "It must be over! It worked!"

Willow appeared at the doorway to the crypt, Tara not far behind. She took in the scene, saw that everything was under control, and turned to Spike, wide-eyed.

He rose to his feet, shakily. "What happened? Did it work?"

"They grabbed Buffy in broad daylight in the middle of town! We were going after them, but then they broke the guidance spell," she said worriedly, "and they didn't go back to the church. We don't know where she is!"

"WHAT?" Spike roared.

Anya emerged from the hole then carrying some long pieces of cloth. "Willow! Tara! What are you doing here? Why is everyone *here?*" she asked, surprised.

"We found out those mercenary guys grabbed you," Willow told her, the back to Spike said, "We have to get them to tell us where they took her!"

Spike turned toward the one remaining conscious goon, but Xander was already there. He pressed the knife a little closer into the man. "Where did your buddies take her?"

"What are you talking about? She's *here,*" he snapped back.

Xander pressed a little harder. "I don't have time to play games here. You can either tell us where the monks want to do their ritual or I can stab something a little more painful than your leg. What's it gonna be?"

The man eyed him stonily.

"That's it," Spike snarled. He let the vamp face come this time, and then he knelt down beside Xander and pushed his face into the mercenary's. Ignoring the smell of blood, he said in a low voice "I'm done asking nicely. Where're they doing the ritual?"

The man flinched back away from him. Xander gave Spike a hard look, but didn't say anything and made no move to stop him. Spike grabbed the soldier's collar and stood up, holding him against the wall again. "You wanna talk or die?"

"All right!" he called out, frightened. "An abandoned factory, on Beaker Street."

"Factory!" Anya said. "That's where Buffy met the first monk. Where she got the Dagon Sphere, remember?"

"Got it," Willow said. "Tara and I are on our way."

"Not without me you're not," Spike replied. He looked outside and saw that it was finally dusk. Safe for him to travel.

"I'm going too," Dawn added.

"No, the whole point was to keep you *away* from the ritual, remember?" Spike shot back.

"Spike--"

"For once in your life would one of you bleeding Summers women just **do what you're told**?" he cried.

"You gotta stay here, Dawn," Xander said, then to Spike added "You go. The robot, Anya, and I will stay here with Dawn and keep an eye on Heckle, Jeckle, and friends."

"We'll tie them all up and torture them if they try and escape," Anya said cheerfully.

Spike nodded his thanks then ran out of the crypt after Willow and Tara.

----------

At first Buffy could only hear sounds around her; she couldn't see or move or even feel anything. The sounds were strange and distant, as if coming to her under water.

Next came sensation. She could feel herself being carried, swinging between two people like a hammock tied between two trees. Then she could feel a stinging in her wrists and ankles: ropes, digging into her skin, binding her hands together behind her back and her legs crossed at the ankle. She tried to think, tried to remember where she was, tried to struggle against those carrying her, but she felt unbearably heavy and she couldn't move, couldn't shake the fog from her mind. She was dumped unceremoniously onto a cold, hard surface, and she heard more sounds around her, voices, someone giving directions to others in a language she couldn't understand. Or maybe it was English and she just couldn't get her brain to work enough for the words to make sense.

She struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids were as heavy and immobile as the rest of her. Where was she? Who had taken her captive and what were they doing with her? She tried to get her brain to work, to get *anything* to work through the thick, cloying fog. Finally, it started filtering back to her: the fight with the mercenaries on the street, the walk into town with -- herself? She struggled to make sense of that, then the Palawgi ritual came back to her. Dawn! She was pretending to be Dawn and the monks had her!

//Relax, Buffy// she told herself, //this is part of the plan. They'll do the ritual, Willow and Tara will put on their show, and with any luck the monks would beat a hasty retreat, sure they'd gotten new orders from on high.// Still, she didn't like being drugged, as she now realized she had been. If something should happen that she'd need to fight, she wasn't exactly going to be able to do it in this condition.

Again she tried to move her eyelids and this time managed to force them open. She was somewhere dark and cavernous and she was looking up at a high ceiling. A warehouse of some sort? Her brain was still fogged and it was hard to see clearly. Slowly she turned her head to the right so that she could see something other than the ceiling. Sandaled feet and the bottom of brown robes swished by. The owner of the robes knelt into her view and placed something on the floor, then stood up and moved on. A candle, Buffy noted. They were preparing the ritual. She turned her head slowly back, then found herself looking up into Brother Ondrih's face. Instinctively she moved to kick up at him, but her body still wasn't responding to her brain and she could barely even move her legs, let alone kick with them.

"I am impressed, child," Brother Ondrih said haughtily. "The Key's power within you must make you unusually resistant to drugs."

//That or my Slayer strength,// Buffy thought snippily, //which you're gonna get another dose of if you come near my sister again.//

"You were not supposed to wake up," he smiled compassionately. "I thought it would be kinder that way."

//Bite me.//

"Ah well. Enjoy the ritual then. It will bring you peace." He stood up and walked away out of her line of sight.

Trying to shake off more of the fog, Buffy struggled to sit up. The way her hands and feet were bound it would have been difficult to do anyway, but add the grogginess and it was all Buffy could do just to rise up on her elbows so she could see around her better. From what she could make out, her initial assessment was correct. They were in a warehouse or factory of some sort. It was obviously abandoned and dilapidated and it looked like parts of the floor had caved in. It concerned her for a moment that they weren't at St. Cyril's, but then she remembered the guidance spell and knew Willow had been keeping tabs on her. Looking around through the gloom she wondered where they might be hiding, watching. It was strange for her to have someone else watch over *her,* protecting *her.* She didn't like being the helpless one.

Before long the monks finished whatever setup work they were doing and she could see them sitting down outside the circle drawn on the floor around her. //Here we go,// she thought, struggling against her bonds as best she could given the drugs' effects. She had to make it look like she was a terrified teenager. Okay, so maybe it wasn't *that* big a stretch. She certainly felt nervous. //I hope you guys are ready, Willow.//

The monks began chanting in unison and Buffy started feeling a little hazier. The drugs or the ritual? Her stomach clenched in fear. It shouldn't be the ritual since she wasn't really the Key and therefore it shouldn't affect her, but she began to feel a warm glow in her chest. The monks chanted louder and the glowing inside her got warmer as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She struggled to sit up further, but her head felt unbearably heavy and she couldn't focus anymore.

Then she started glowing. Not just a warm feeling this time, but an actual luminance emanating from her body, as if she'd swallowed a lightbulb. The monks' chanting rose to a fevered pitch and something like a roar of wind blew through the room, drowning them out and the glowing started to burn. Buffy tried to move, to get away from the burning, but she was paralyzed. //Willow where are you?//

And then the burning was gone and a complete peace washed over her. She still felt warm, but it was a comforting feeling, like being wrapped up in bed on a cold winter morning. She felt sleepy and had to force her eyes open. It was then that she noticed she was no longer on the floor.

She was floating six feet in the air.

The monks were standing now, but Buffy couldn't concentrate on them, only on the warm feeling surrounding her and the sensation of floating. There was another roar, not a wind sound this time, but something deeper, more resonating. It almost sounded like a voice, but Buffy couldn't understand what it was saying. She just knew she was safe, and she was at peace. Smiling, she closed her eyes and let herself drift away.

The next thing she knew, there were arms around her, cradling her gently. She realized she no longer was floating, but was lying on the floor, someone holding her. Voices started fading in, dreamlike, calling her name. With great effort, she opened her eyes to find herself looking into Spike's nearly frantic face. As soon as she opened her eyes he practically melted in relief.

"Spike?" she asked, finding her voice. It was thick and sounded strange. "What are you doing here?" Then she felt a twinge of panic. "Dawn!"

"Shh, love," Spike soothed, caressing her face, "Niblet's fine. She's with Xander and Anya and the robot."

Buffy tried to process this, but it didn't make any sense. "Willow?" she asked, and tried to sit up, but she was still to light-headed.

"Lie still," Spike instructed her, and Willow's head came into view, opposite Spikes. "We're here," she said, and Buffy saw that Tara was beside her. "Just rest a minute, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, settling back into Spike's arms. Then she smiled weakly at Willow. "It worked. Didn't it? Where did the monks go?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Willow said. "They must be gone, though. You've reverted back to your true form."

"What?"

"You're you again. You don't look like Dawn anymore."

She frowned, then remembered what Anya had said about reverting to her true form when the deception was completed. "Then it did work." She smiled at Willow and Tara again. "Thank you guys so much. You did great. The floating really did it. They about freaked when I started floating in the air."

She saw Spike, Willow, and Tara exchange strange looks.

"What?"

"Uh, Buffy," Spike said, confused, "Will and Tara didn't do anything. Monks must've broken the guidance spell and they lost contact with you. We found you like this, lying alone on the floor, looking like you again, not a monk or henchman in sight. We thought--" his voice hitched and he looked away, unable to go on.

Buffy looked at him in astonishment, then turned to Willow. "But it was just like we planned. I was floating. And there was this big voice. I don't know what it said, but it was really *big.*"

Willow shook her head, looking a little stunned. "It wasn't us, Buffy. We just got here."

"Then how?"

Willow just shrugged, perplexed.

"You get any new powers you weren't aware of when you came back from the beyond?" Spike asked, eyebrow raised.

Buffy shook her head. "It wasn't me. It definitely wasn't me."

They were all silent for a moment, then Tara said softly, "Dawn."

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"It was about Dawn. We were trying to show the monks they were wrong. That Dawn is an innocent and she doesn't deserve to die for how she was created. That there was nothing good or holy about what they were doing."

"So?"

"We were right."

NEXT

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