Sister Agnes sighed. "I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted on helping." She nodded up the slope, towards the olive grove and the convent's graveyard.

Buffy walked slowly up the hill. There were two big spots of dug-up earth. Mass graves. It made sense, she guess, but it bothered her.

Something glittery caught her eye at the larger grave. When she got closer, she saw that the Knights' swords had been planted around the grave, point down. A fancier sword stood in the middle of the line of swords at the top. Xander was at the bottom edge, carefully setting the last few swords in place. Baynar sat at the foot of a nearby olive tree, watching.

Xander straightened and considered his work. "That should do. What do you think?" he asked, looking at Baynar, who chittered and nodded.

"It looks nice," Buffy said, coming up quietly.

Baynar squeaked and went to hide behind Xander's legs. Xander smiled and patted the little demon's shoulder. "It's okay, dude, she's one of the good guys. He's still a little rattled," he added to Buffy.

"A lot of us are." She looked at the other grave. "Is that . . ."

"Glory and her folks, yeah." He reached down for the shovel that was laying under the tree. "Savlin and the others had all the digging and carrying done by the time I got up, so I helped with the filling in."

"We ought to put something up for Ben."

Xander nodded but made no move. He leaned on the end of the shovel and stared at the Knights' grave within its fence of swords.

Buffy wanted to say something about the fight, ask if he couldn't have found some other way. The look on his face, though, said it would only be one more accusation he didn't need.

"I should have been here," she sighed.

"I don't know if it would have been any different."

"It might have."

"Maybe. But you *weren't* here."

She flinched. "I know. I'm sorry."

He sighed and looked at her. "Being sorry makes no difference. You went with Dawn, you had good reason to. You couldn't be here. You left me in charge. I did what I had to."

"Did you? Have to?"

He turned back to the grave. "Seemed right at the time."

"Including siccing Spike on humans?"

His eyes went to some un-Xanderish place. "He offered to go to keep me from opening up on them. He probably did less damage than I would have. He was having fun. I would have been serious." Buffy gave a breath of disbelief, and he smiled at her very faintly. "You weren't here. Shit happens."

"And D'Hoffryn?"

"I did what I had to."

"He could ask for anything. Xander, you can't go through--" She stopped at the look he gave her.

"I made a deal. Anya's still alive. I'm not digging a grave for her up here. Whatever D'Hoffryn asks me to do has to be better than digging a hole and dropping the body of the woman I love into it."

Down by his knee, Baynar squeaked and hugged his leg. Xander looked down and patted his head. "Sorry, guy," he said more softly. "Didn't mean to get all angsty in front of you. You ought to go find your mom, I bet she's looking for you." Baynar frowned at him, then at Buffy, then ran down the hill to the convent. "Shouldn't fight in front of the kids," Xander said.

"Yeah." She looked back towards Glory's grave. "I don't think I ever knew Ben's last name."

"At least you knew his name." The wind rustled the leaves above them, and Xander looked up. "Sun's going down. A couple of somebody's are probably just about to make an appearance."

Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know what to do about them." After a couple of silent moments, she looked over at Xander. He was still staring out over the valley and the lengthening shadows. "Yesterday you seemed like you knew what should happen now."

He frowned a little. "Was that just yesterday?" His faint smile was painful to see. "That guy? The world was a simple place to him. Vampires evil, humans good, kill the demons. Today? Not so simple. You're the Slayer, Buffy. What should the Slayer do?"

"I know what the Slayer should do. But I don't know what Buffy should do."

The bell in the chapel began to ring for Vespers. Xander continued to lean on the shovel, gazing off. Buffy hesitated, then took a couple of steps down the slope. "Dinner will be in a little bit. You coming in?" He nodded. She finally continued down the hill.

The sun dipped down behind the western mountains. The birds flew back from their daytime pursuits to settle with gossipy chirps in the branches of the olive trees. Bats flitted through the gathering shadows, snagging unsuspecting bugs. Xander wondered where Dracula was now.

Movement downslope caught his attention, and he chuckled despite himself. "Speak of the devil."

"He couldn't make it," Spike said, strolling up with his hands in his duster pockets. "He asked me to fill in."

"Not surprised. What brings you up cemetery way? Shouldn't you be hanging around Buffy, basking in thanks for looking after her mom?"

Spike sighed, and it wasn't completely a put-on. "Slayer's got a bad case of 'Oh, my god, they're monsters.' She must have had a chance to sit down and read through the Slayer job description and noticed there didn't seem to be many loopholes for soulless vampires who lend a helping hand."

"You can hardly blame her. Especially when one of said soulless vampires is a guy she's depended on for years now."

Spike shrugged and nodded, then started searching through his pockets. "Damn, that's right. Out of smokes. Shit."

Xander did not raise his chin from the fist he had resting on the end of the shovel. "Vampire in nicotine withdrawal. I'm thinking not a good thing."

Spike studied him for several moments. "You're remarkably calm about being alone with the evil undead."

"Sorry. I think my white hat got trampled in the dust sometime back, and I don't feel right about threatening you without having it on."

"Harris, you did what you had to. You kept everyone alive last night. That counts as a good job. And yes, I'm counting Anya in there." He looked away from the surfacing pain in Xander's face and nodded at the Knights' grave. "Nice fence. I like the whole cross effect with the sword hilts and all."

Xander laughed very briefly. "That wasn't the effect I was going for. It just . . . seemed right."

"Yeah."

They both looked over at Glory's grave. "Buffy thinks we ought to put something up for Ben," Xander said. "I think I'd just rather leave the whole thing as it is."

"I can't imagine Glory's minions could ask for more that being buried with their god."

Xander looked at him, surprised at the statement, and Spike hunted through his duster pockets again to avoid the gaze.

The bell at the chapel rang again for the end of the service. Dark was settling in seriously, especially under the olive trees. Xander sighed and shouldered the shovel, finally heading down the slope towards the convent gates. Spike silently fell into step beside him. He paused at the ruined gates, watched the last of the group of nuns go in to the dormitory for dinner, then turned and considered the car Glory had arrived in.

"What are you thinking?" Spike asked softly.

"I wonder if the keys are in it."

"Thinking of heading home early?"

"Yeah. They're going to want to talk about it and talk and talk and . . ." They shared a glance of male sympathy for the chattering tendencies of women. "I really don't want to talk about Anya. Besides, you and Giles can drive the bus. Hell, Tara can drive."

"And when you hit the highway, which direction will you be turning?" Xander didn't answer, and Spike nodded. "No one would blame you if you went. Leastwise, I wouldn't."

Xander stared down the road. "There's nothing wrong with running, I guess. Except I'd be running from, not running to. Don't even have the excuse I had after high school, looking for the great American road adventure."

"New York's nice," Spike said. "Been a long time since I've seen New York."

Xander glanced at him, and they considered each other for several moments that stretched closer and closer to offer and acceptance and unexpected developments.

Xander finally shook his head and laughed. "Who are we kidding? We're both going back to the Dale. We're whipped."

"Hellmouth whipped. Still, it was a nice thought."

"Yeah, but when the shock wears off, I'm going to remember that you're the evil, soulless, chipless undead, and I"m going to look for my stake and holy water."

Spike grinned. "Good. You were starting to worry me, whelp, being so sociable and all."

Xander gave him a companionable sneer and turned towards the convent. Chattering female voices could be heard. He visibly braced himself, then glanced once more at Glory's car. He shrugged. "It's probably hot, anyway."

Spike nodded. "Probably so."

Xander met Spike's eyes as the darkness deepened. "Thanks for being there last night. It was good to have back up."

"Glad to be of help." He leered to break the mood. "Don't mind in the slightest, being at your back."

Xander smiled briefly and walked away. Spike watched him cross the courtyard all alone, and he thought about New York.

Buffy looked around the dinner table, remembering the same meal the night before. Tonight, Tara was able to feed herself, and she gave Willow smiles that were a distracting mixture of shy and sultry. Willow gazed back and kept forgetting to eat. The nuns didn't bustle around quite so cheerfully, but they were tired more than depressed. Sister Teresa still patted everyone on the shoulder and forced second helpings. Savlin, Baynar, and the other Minoto sat at their usual end of the table. They also looked tired, but they didn't watch the Scoobies with the same suspicion as they had last night. Dawn waved at Baynar, and Baynar waved back, as Savlin looked on approvingly.

Sister Agnes came in, studying the information on a sheet of paper. Buffy had seen her in consultation with Giles in the courtyard at sunset. Neither of the vampires had received invitations into the dormitory, and neither had asked. Buffy wasn't sure if they really needed invitations to the building, but it showed surprising consideration that they stayed out. She wondered if it was Spike or Giles who was being considerate.

She finally let herself look at the empty place at the table. The two empty places, actually. Xander hadn't come in yet.

Anya a demon again. By the number of stories she'd gleefully told, she wasn't what could be called a nice demon. Granted, vengeance demons didn't act unless someone asked them to, but they certainly ran with whatever ideas were presented to them. Buffy wondered if she was going to be called on to do anything about Anyanka. Had Slayers ever gone against vengeance demons before? Buffy hoped no women in Sunnydale got scorned enough to want revenge anytime soon.

Xander came in quietly, wearing clean clothes and with his hair still wet. He didn't look up as he walked to the empty seat on the far side of Tara. Willow caught his hand as he went by and gave him a worried look. He smiled and leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead. The smile he gave Tara looked less forced, then he tugged his hand free and went to sit down. Sister Teresa made a beeline for his empty bowl and ladled him a large serving of stew.

Buffy watched him a moment longer, then left him to his solitude. She found Joyce watching her, a proud mom-smile on her face. "What?"

"You make a good general, worrying about everyone before worrying about yourself." Joyce nodded at the barely touched bowl of stew in front of Buffy.

She began eating. "I can't help worrying. None of them would be here if it weren't for me." She glanced at Dawn, who was still making faces at Baynar. "Maybe Dawn wouldn't be here either, if it weren't for me. They gave her to the Slayer to protect. So is she my sister because the Slayer happened to be me, who has a mom and friends and all that? Or is she my sister because I happen to be the Slayer? If Faith were the official Slayer, would she have a new baby sister?"

Joyce stroked her hair. "You worry too much about things that don't matter. What-ifs can drive you crazy? I mean--" She frowned at Dawn. "What if I hadn't made it? What would happen to you two without me? You wouldn't be having to nursemaid a crippled mother, but the idea of the two of you alone, having to cope with all that, with Glory on top of it all . . ."

Buffy leaned over to hug her mother tightly. "But you did make it. You are here, and you're getting better and better, and Glory's gone, and we're all still here--or, more or less. Nobody's dead--or, at least, not in the gone forever, never come back sense--" She broke off to keep from crying. That kept happening, every time she thought about Giles.

Joyce kissed her hair. "Not now, honey. Don't try to deal with that right now."

"I'm going to have to deal with it eventually."

"But not right now. Time enough when we get home and get things a bit more back to normal."

Buffy tried not to laugh. "Normal. What's that like?"

"Well, I thought normal might be something like--summer school."

Buffy leaned back fast. "What? Summer school?"

"Or summer semesters, whatever they call it in college. A way to make up those classes you missed." Joyce glanced at Dawn. "Do you think her school will buy having to leave town for a grandmother's funeral?"

"Probably." Buffy gazed at her mother, fighting back another round of tears that was probably as much stress relief as anything else. There had been nightmares she'd told no one about, of finding Joyce dead, of having to bury her mother, of having to make some kind of life for Dawn while still having to save the world. In those dreams she'd envied those other Slayers, the ones without families, without loved ones who needed worrying about.

She heard Dawn laugh behind her, then begin a conversation with Willow and Tara. She even managed to coax a chuckle out of Xander.

"We won," Buffy whispered.

"Yes, we did," Joyce said, smiling that proud smile again.

"It wasn't easy, it cost a lot, but--we won." Joyce nodded. "And that's enough for now, right?"

"Right."

Dawn reached over and poked Buffy in the arm. "When are we going home?"

Buffy felt a brief wave of dismay that everyone was looking to her for the answer, but that just came with the territory. "Tomorrow?" She looked around and saw nods and shrugs. "Tomorrow." She took a deep breath and let it out, feeling victory and its cost settle into place. "We go home."

we're taking a moment. and now we're done.

Wow, Connie! I can't believe that I'm actually going to post this following 'Career Change', but here goes...

Dream A Little Dream

She decided that she must be under some type of spell. This had to have something to do with magic. Realistically, it wasn't all that long ago that one of Willow's spells had gone awry and Buffy had found herself engaged to Spike, of all people. However, to be perfectly honest with herself, she hadn't been aware of being under a spell then, so why would she be particularly aware of it now, if this was in fact, another spell that she was under?

Buffy's first instinct was to ask Willow nonchalantly about any recent spells she had performed. Not that she suspected Willow. Well, not after accusing her the night before last. Either way, Willow had promised Buffy that she had been extremely careful lately with her spells.

So why was she having so many intimate dreams involving herself and Faith?

It was three o'clock in the morning and she'd just woken, drenched in perspiration, from a vivid dream that had started quite innocently. The same dream that she'd experienced every night this week.

In the dream, Buffy and Faith entered an older crypt that was vaguely recognizable as the Hanover crypt, once inhabited by a gang of vampires last year, although she couldn't be positive.
After a complete inspection of the small room, Buffy said to Faith, "All clear. Looks like nothing has been disturbed in here for awhile."

"Especially the dust, B. Damn."

"The Hanover's have been dead for about a millenium. You expect the cleaning lady to still be on retainer?"

Faith walked over to Buffy and mock punched her in the arm with a coy smile. "I'm just saying, it's not like The Watcher's Council is gonna kick in a couple measly bucks to help their two star slayers out with medical bills if we start wheezing when our lungs are filled with crap due to our chosen profession."

"Uh-huh."

"What's up with you? No snappy come back about inhaling? Sucking in the dead?" Faith asked as she stepped closer to Buffy and placed her right palm on Buffy's forehead. "You don't feel hot or feverish."

With the touch of Faith's hand, Buffy felt a flash of electricity vibrate through her body and she backed up a step away from Faith towards the rear wall of the crypt. "I...uh, I'm...fine."

Faith's brow was furrowed; she was obviously offended."Fine, huh? Good to know," she said as she turned away from Buffy and started toward the entrance of the crypt.

Without a thought, Buffy reached out and caught Faith's hand, turning her back around so that they were once again face to face. Averting her eyes, Buffy told her, "I'm sorry. I'm a little... off tonight."

When Faith didn't respond, Buffy slowly raised her eyes and met Faith's stare, suddenly realizing just how close they were standing to each other. She could feel Faith's breath on her face. Apparently, when she pulled Faith back to her, she had used more force than she had thought.

A feeling of unease and excitement filled Buffy as her breath caught in her throat from the realization that she was still holding Faith's hand in her own.

She also realized that she didn't want to let go.

Faith leaned closer to Buffy, backing her against the wall, and whispered into Buffy's ear, "I might have expected this from Willow."

Buffy didn't move away.

Faith paused a moment, without moving either, and continued. "Thought about it once or twice even...but you?"

Buffy felt her breathing become more rapid. Shallow and quick. The thought of Faith's lips so close to her ear and the feel of Faith's warm breath on her neck wasn't the slightest bit odd. In fact, it felt amazing.

Faith's free hand brushed against Buffy's cheek, pausing at her chin and turning Buffy's face just slightly towards her own. "If you want me to stop, B, tell me now."

Buffy still didn't move, couldn't move. She felt as if every nerve in her body were tingling.
Faith moved a couple of inches closer to Buffy and slowly, placed her lips against Buffy's. Tentatively at first, as if Buffy were testing her, and then she ever so slightly applied more pressure.

Buffy tightened her hold on Faith's hand and moaned gently as her other hand reached around Faith's waist, placed it on her back and pulled Faith closer to her. The shockwaves going through her were almost too much to stand as she pictured the way the two of them looked at that moment. Picturing it as if she were watching the interaction outside of herself.

When Faith parted Buffy's lips with her tongue, and Buffy could feel Faith's tongue gently glide across her upper and then lower teeth, then touch her own tongue, Buffy felt a hunger pass through her. A hunger that desired everything that was happening and so much more. A hunger that was building with every second of contact. A hunger that....

and that was when she woke.

Every night for a week. The same dream.

Faith had been in a coma now for over a year.

Thanks again to Plei for her assistance!

Nicole, fun!

Two quickies, both mechanical:

The Hanover's have been dead

No apostrophe; just a plural, not a possessive.

and a suggestion?

so why would she be particularly aware of it now, if this was in fact, another spell that she was under?

I think you need a comma after "this" - "...if this was, in fact, another spell..." Either that or the comma after "fact" ought to come out.

I'm jealous of good Faith-voice. For some reason, I find her very hard to write.

I'd probably strike the in fact part, on reflection (which means I should have mentioned it when I did a read through earlier, and feel like a dork for missing), as Buffy'd leave it out when thinking.

Plei, I'd strike it as well, given my druthers. But if it does stay in? I think the commas are bookends: both or none kind of dealy.

BTW, ma'am, would you like to quickie beta six pages for me? Stuff with a girl and a horse?

edit: and a "no" answer is fine - no pressure.