FIC: Per Omnia Saecula Saeculorum 20

["cdreramius" <mike_mcd@xxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title: Per Omnia Saecula Saeculorum
Author: Tony McD
Rating: M (15+ for language and adult themes)
Summary: The events and consequences immediately after `Grave'.
Distribution: Anywhere, just keep my name on it. As long as I am
remembered, I will never truly die.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer nor do I own any
other characters. This is a work of fiction written for your enjoyment.

*-*-*-*-*

"Mmmm& coffee's good, isn't it?"

Willow and Buffy sat at a table by the window of a new coffee shop in
the Sunnydale Mall. Xander had basically kicked them out of the house,
in part to get the two girls out of the house before Travis and the
other guys arrived to help Xander finish off the house.

It was also a not so subtle way of getting Buffy and Willow relaxed
when talking to each other.

Sipping her cappuccino, Buffy reflected on the fact things between her
and Willow hadn't been this awkward since Willow told her about Tara.
The last 30 minutes had seen the pair drink their coffee and hardly
speak or even look at each other.

Buffy frowned into her caffeinated sugary goodness. This was so much
easier when Xander or Giles was around.

"OK, this is officially stupid." Buffy declared. Willow looked at her
uncertainly.

"Uh, what exactly is stupid?"

"This. Us. This massive awkwardness between us that rivals Tara's and
your Mom's when they first met." As soon as the words passed her lips,
Buffy mentally slapped herself up the back of the head for mentioning
Tara, "Oh God! I'm sorry, Willow.  I shouldn't..."

Willow shook her head.

"Buffy, its OK. I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown if people
mention Tara." She reassured her friend.

"Besides," a small smile appearing on the redhead's face "the whole
She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named routine would be way too Harry Potter."

The comment made Buffy smile. Willow still had her sense of humour,
even if she didn't exercise it much lately.

"Point taken." Buffy sighed "If we're gonna avoid looking like a
couple of mimes, we're gonna have to talk about something. And let's
face it, there is absolutely no shortage of things that we can talk
about, let alone all the thing we NEED to talk about."

Willow nodded in agreement.

"Any suggestions?"

Buffy thought that over for a few moments.

"About last night..." Buffy prompted.

"Last night... Last night was something I had to do eventually.
Granted, it turned out to be too early and too painful, but I'll need
to come to terms with all the memories the house contains if I'm gonna
live there." Willow paused, a sudden fear popping up "You still want
me to live there, don't you? I'd totally understand if you don't and I
can live on campus this year."

"Willow, I want you there. I need you there. It's my house and I say
who gets to stay and who goes. And don't worry about Dawn or Xander.
We talked it over before we went to England and we all agreed. Hell,
why do you think that Xander is adding a bedroom if it was just going
to be the three of us?"

A relieved Willow saw an opening to bring up an issue of her own she
wanted to talk about.

"An extra bedroom seems a bit of a waste seeing yours and Xander's
sleeping habits."

"We just sleep together, that's all."

Buffy's comment made coffee shoot out Willow's nose and made Buffy
wish for a better choice of words. The waitress helped Willow clean up
from her liquid double take.

"We're not... you know... `Sleeping together' sleeping together. It's..."

"A comfort thing? Like the three of us last night?"

"Exactly! Nothing pelvic about it. It's about comfort. To be honest, I
sleep better when I'm not alone. Even Dawn has on occasion crept into
Xander's or my bed when things have been a little rough. Last night we
saw you needed comfort, to know you aren't alone." Buffy took hold of
Willow's hand.

"We gotta look after each other. That's one of the things I've learned
out of all this. If we don't talk, we don't work things out, it will
blow up in our faces."

"And that's bad."

"Bad squared." Buffy affirmed.

They finished off their drinks.

"So, that was our touching reconciliation?"

"I was expecting it after some death defying apocalyptic moment.
That's how this normally goes for us."

"A distinct lack of demons."

"Give it some time. This is Sunnydale after all."

*-*-*-*-*

Ubi enim sunt duo vel tres congregati in nomine meo, ibi sum in medio
eorum 

(For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there
in their midst.)

*-*-*-*-*

Insanity.

It was the best description of the mental state of William.

Spike had gone to Africa to get his chip out.

Instead he got William.

As it had effected his grandsire, the return of his soul had sent
waves of horror and revulsion through William at everything that Spike
had done in the last 120 or so years.

Unlike his grandsire, it had sent William insane.

How he had ended up in France, William couldn't remember. Why he was
in France was an easier question.

France was the traditional destination for an Englishman in self
imposed exile and a perfect place for someone not fit for civilised
society.

Before he was turned William had been somewhat pious, so it was
natural that with the return of his soul he would seek forgiveness in
a house of God.

At least that had been the plan.

Instead, he was curled up into a foetal position in the dusty bell
tower of an abandoned church on the outskirts of Marseilles. He was
hidden in the shadows just beyond where the sun shone through the
stained glass window.

Tears no longer fell as he wept. He had long since passed the point
where his body could produce any more. He wept for all those the demon
that had taken his body had killed. He could see their faces. He could
hear their screams.

He could remember how good it had felt to the demon as it did
unspeakable things to men, women, and children.

Yet again he let out a dry rasping cry to God to forgive him.

`No.'

A clear line of thought emerged from the maelstrom of insanity that
raged inside his mind.

`No. You did none of these things. The demon did.'

The demon whispered back.

`We are one in the same.'

`NO! It's not true!' William's mind cried out.

`Yes it is and you know it. Deep down you know it.' The demon smiled
wickedly. A century of manipulation and exploitation, mind games and
preying on the weak, had made the demon powerful when playing mind games.

It was determined that it would win this battle with the feeble fool
and retake control of his body.

`No you won't! I won't let you!'

`Yes you will. Already you hunger. Soon you will be unable to stop
yourself from feeding on the rich blood pumping through somebody's
veins.' The demon was supremely confident.

After all, time was on its side.

`Never. I will never let you run free again. With the grace of God I
will destroy you.'

The demon laughed.

`How? Kill me and you'll be killing yourself. You'll get no grace from
God if you do that.'

Despair.

The demon was using his faith as a protective shield. As twisted and
evil the intent of the demon, it was correct.

Suicide was a mortal sin. To kill yourself was to condemn your soul to
the eternal damnation of Hell.

The demon's laughter grew crushing in its volume and malevolence.

Faith!

Shield!

A sudden thought came to William.

To kill yourself was a sin. To sacrifice yourself in battle to destroy
the spawn of Satin was to die as a martyr.

Before the demon could react, William was up and running for the
stained glass window.

The demon screamed and raged as William leapt through the glass and
into the bright sunshine.

All that was left of one of the most terrible vampires in history was
a few ashes and a scorched microchip.

*-*-*-*-*

qui vicerit possidebit haec et ero illi Deus et ille erit mihi filius
 
(He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God,
and he shall be my son.)

*-*-*-*-*






Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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