She made another attempt. Splaying her hands on the obelisk, Glory marshalled her strength and pushed until the neckline of Ben’s green scrubs was sodden with sweat.

 

Nothing.

 

The tower of rock stayed rooted in the muddy earth. Her footprints, and those of her two goblins criss-crossed the ground in every direction; there was not a part of the barren, water-trapped knoll that she had not trampled.

 

The goblins jumped to a safe distance as she let her frustration loose on the obelisk. She pounded its rough surface with balled fists and kicked indiscriminately at its base, shrieking out blood-curdling wails as only a fallen goddess can do. No rescuer heard Glory, surrounded as she was by infinite acres of dead water in the otherwise uninhabited dimension.

 

One of the goblins bowed low, saying, “Wonderfully Great and Immensely Luminous Glorifi-”

 

“What now, you scabby little maggot?” Glory yelled. The hair hung in lacklustre clumps and her brother’s form was a disintegrating shell. “What?” The eyes, though, were hers and they shone with nefarious, deeply mad zeal.

 

“The portal has shifted, O Incandescent One.”

 

Glory followed his gaze and smiled at the narrow, crescent shaped aperture between the base of the obelisk and the ground.

 

Cordelia saw it all.

 

Angel made a phone call to Sunnydale, and Willow e-mailed Giles in England.

 

*    *    *    *

 

Sunnydale, Ten Days Later

 

Spike tilted his head back and laughed at the stars, cynically wondering where he had seen a similar icy glare.

 

"Just you wait, Slayer. Am gonna show you," he sniffed, lowered his head and swore, swerving hard.

 

The bike whined, took a dive and tossed up sparks from the tarmac as it skidded on its side, dragging him with it. Spike and his bike came to a shuddering stop at Buffy’s feet a short distance from impact. He pushed from under the bike, tutted at his ripped jeans and swatted at the ‘people finders’ glowing in front of his face, anything to keep from looking at Buffy.

 

"You're packed. That's good," Buffy hauled his duffel bag off the bike’s carriage.

 

"Yeah, leaving SunnyD. Am going to…"

 

"Dyulin," she said.

 

Spike looked her full in the face, wincing at her reproachful lips and stiffened shoulders. The air crackled around them: two south poles of a magnet in too close proximity.

 

"I lost it Buffy. Doesn’t pardon me but it also doesn’t change fact that I lo-”

 

She threw the bag at him, so hard that he tripped over the bike and smacked the ground in an undignified sprawl.

 

"Dammit!” He jumped up, “I'm trying to-"

 

"What – apologise?” Her stare tongue-tied him, made his usually spry feet shuffle a dance of guilt and self-loathing. “Xander was right. I forgot the soulless thing that you are," she said, walking off. "Don’t just stand there, Dawn needs you."

 

Pushing his bike along, Spike trudged after her. “Typical,” he muttered, “pious spouting from Xander Harris, King of bloody Preach.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Donut Boy still alive?” He raised his voice. “More’s the pity.”

 

 *   *    *    *

 

Very much alive, Xander slid his mouth off Ed’s cock. He crawled up the bed to lie next to Ed, grinning at the man’s appreciative gasps and turning his head away in time to avoid Ed’s sudden kiss. The lips landed on his cheek, warm, firm and withdrawing when Xander’s unresponsiveness cooled the air somewhat.

 

“You’re confusing me with one of your tricks, baby,” Ed said.

 

Xander wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sat upright on the edge of the bed. “Don’t call me that,” he said.

 

“That’s all I ever hear from you – don’t. Don’t phone me, you can’t stay the night, don’t kiss me or show me affection,” Ed looked away from the aloof back, picked up a packet of cigarettes from the nightstand and tossed it back down. “Don’t smoke in bed – is there anything I’m allowed to do, Xander?”

 

Two, maybe three years younger than him, dark eyes, darker hair and tight little butt, Ed had the ability to flex his lithe body any which way. He could do a handstand, give head and beat off all at the same time. He was also kinda clingy and it was for this reason that Xander had been meaning to lose Ed’s phone number. 

 

As though on cue, Xander’s cell phone pulsed in his pocket. He stood up, pulled the cell from his pocket and glanced at the LCD display. “Buffy,” he said into the mouthpiece, going out to talk on his bedroom balcony.

 

“Why do I put up with this crap?” Ed whispered, watching Xander through the closed French doors.

 

He knew well enough why he put up with it and it had something to do with Xander’s cock and in-bed manner. The sometimes brooding eyes and the always intense privacy, those glimpses of hurt that had every unattached gay guy Ed knew – and some attached ones – lining up to rescue Xander.

 

“I pester,” Ed apologised when Xander came back into the room. “Why do you put up with my pestering?” He asked, palming a condom and a tube of Astroglide from the nightstand.

 

Xander unzipped his jeans, smiled. “Take a wild guess.”

 

*    *    *    *

 

Xander hopped onto the counter and rubbed his palms together, “so this is nice, the eight of us back together again.” He glanced at Fred and said, “never met you before, but you’re included in the together.”

 

“There’s nine of us,” she said.

 

“Count again,” Xander said, refusing to acknowledge the black-garbed figure slouched against the door.

 

Eight people, as far as he was concerned: Willow, Tara, Fred and Giles at the table, Deadboy standing behind Fred, Buffy at the cash register, Dawn beside her and himself. Eight beautiful people in The Magic Box and on the plus side, Anya wasn’t there to remind him of the happy nuptials that bit the dust.

 

“You going to tell me why I’m here, Buffy?” Spike asked, pulling a cigarette packet out of his duster pocket.

 

They all looked at Buffy, none of them explaining to Spike why he was in The Magic Box and not en route to Tanzania.

 

Giles sighed, took off his glasses and placed them on the black, leather bound book laying open in front of him and Fred. “This is mostly conjuncture Spike, but it’s the best we have to go on for the moment. Ben died, but Glory didn’t. With her host dead, Glory was unable to shift between his form and her own, or indeed, to channel her divine powers. We believe she fled to an alternative dimension with the aim of restoring her powers and that she has achieved her aim to some extent. She’s on her way back to Sunnydale.”

 

Spike looked a little shook up. “How long before she shows?”

 

“We don’t know, but Dawn can’t be here when she does,” Buffy said.

 

Dawn grabbed her rucksack off the counter and strapped it onto her back. “Buffy’s sending me to some dimension called Dyulin because I’ll be in her way here.”

 

Buffy heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I’m doing it because you’ll be safer away from here, Dawnie.”

 

“Why not pack her off to boarding school in the Alps or something? It’s less drastic.”

 

“That’s what I said, Spike. But will she listen to me?” Dawn said, sweeping a glare over Buffy.

 

“We’ve been through this many, many times Dawn,” Buffy rubbed her temple, tension lines tugging down the corners of her mouth. “Dyulin is a Traveller’s dimension, kind of like a pit-stop to your main vacationing destination. Glory won’t think to look for you in a dimensional pit-stop, but she will think to torture everyone at Sunnydale high for your school transfer records. You need to disappear without leaving a paper trail and this is the only way to do that.” 

 

Spike had smoked one cigarette and was halfway through the second before speaking into the tense silence.

 

“Where do I fit into the picture?”

 

“You’re going with Dawn,” Buffy said stiffly. “Fred’s going too, cause she’s done dimensions before and Xander’s going because…”

 

“No bloody way am I going anywhere with Harris.”

 

“I trust him. Do you really want me to get into why I need someone I trust to go with you and Dawn?”

 

Spike flinched like Buffy had slapped him with full Slayer strength. The others bustled into activity, all except Xander who swung his legs, stabbing Spike with his angry stare. He would have been hitched if he’d loved Anya half as much as he hated Spike.

 

Giles handed out weapons, an axe to Xander, a sword to Spike and daggers to Dawn and Fred.

 

Angel distributed chains to the travelling four. The chains were slender, and had blue stones attached to them. Mounted on concave silver pieces and held in place by four tiny claws, the stones sparked with miniature threads of lightening, creating the effect of a storm contained within the small orbs.

 

"The stones are your messaging service,” Angel said, bringing out a glass sphere from his pocket. About the size of a base ball, the sphere was a replica of the stones on the chains. “When it's safe, Buffy breaks the orb, the stones on the chains go dead and…"

 

“We come home,” Dawn slipped her chain on.

 

Fred turned the pages of the black book to a bookmark and started reading an incantation, her soft and even tone becoming shaky as a blue shimmering covered one of the bookshelves.

 

Willow and Tara crossed the room to hug Dawn and Xander, and Buffy joined into it. The Scooby hug was a little noisy, a little emotional with hard sniffing and quivery voiced advice from those who were staying home to those who were being sent away.

 

Angel’s advice to Spike was delivered without quivers, hugs or ambiguity as to what would befall Spike if he harmed Fred in any way. “I’m releasing her into your care. Don’t make me regret it,” he ended.

 

Other endings were taking place: the hug ended and Fred’s voice tapered off with the last of the incantation.

 

"Away from Home’s hearth to sojourn fields flung far. Dyulin, Traveller’s Realm, let these Travellers pass safe through your dark void."

 

The blue on the bookshelves settled into an oval pond that glinted with bolts of blue-white lightening.

 

Spike took Dawn's hand and brought her to the portal. “Do me a favour and garage my bike, Slayer. Keys are in the ignition.” He then smiled at Dawn, “Ready L’il Bit?”

 

“That hole is sparking and it looks dangerous and - ”

 

Spike wheeled round and ran into the sparking hole, bringing a shrieking Dawn with him.

 

“Willow,” Xander gulped from their abrupt exit and pointed at a bundle on the counter, “Apartment keys, car keys and cheque book with a month’s rent cheque. I…uh…I…” he frowned into the portal.

 

Fred packed the book into her backpack, hoisted the bag onto her back and went to stand beside Xander at the portal, “are you a praying man?”

 

“No, but I almost mated with a praying mantis once,” he hedged closer to the blue light. “She was big, had these monster claws and…screw it,” he closed his eyes and ran in, Fred beside him.