The demigod leaned forward in his chair of fire, delighted with the events as they unfolded.
"What are you looking at, Master?" the little demonic minion questioned, groveling at the edge of the reflecting pool. "Is it your little witch again?"
"Oh, yes, loyal one. It is always a pleasure to observe her and the pain she has inflicted."
"Tell me," the little one pleaded. "Tell me again the tale of the foolish witch."
"Alright." He leaned back into the flames. "Two years ago, as the human years pass, the little witch called me in her selfish pain, asking that her will be done. And I, kind immortal that I am, granted her heart's desire. Three wishes she knew of, that the Watcher be blinded, the mortal attract demons, and the vampire and slayer be wed."
"But she thought she'd reversed these, didn't she Master?" The little head bobbed up and down at the retelling of the familiar story.
"Yes, she thought they were reversed by D'Hoffryn." He smiled his most cruel smile. "As if that simpering idiot could hope to contend with my magic. And yet I let them both believe it true."
"But is wasn't true, was it? Not true at all."
"No, sweet toady," he patted the little head, "not true at all. For the Watcher is still blind, leaving his charge without seeing this is the time she would need him most. The human's life is intertwined with demons, the woman he loves, the vampire, the destroyer at his wedding; his life will never be lived in simple mortality. The vampire and the slayer, now that was easy. They are wed in their hearts, though he would reject it and she would deny it. That only required a gentle push on my part."
But there was another wish, wasn't there, Master? One she didn't even know she made."
"Yes, little one, one more wish. The most delicious wish of all." He steepled his fingers and licked his lips.
The little demon jumped up and down with anticipation at the telling of his favourite part. "What did she say, Master? What did the witch say?"
She said, "I think we're all doomed to badness."
Day 138. Willow is turning into real powerhouse. You should see her. She directs us like an orchestra conductor, calling us with her mind, telling us where we need to go. She "doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus", or at least the top of the mausoleum. Don't know what we'd do without her. Probably bump into each other a lot. (At least, they would).
Giles and I get on surprisingly well. It's good to have another Brit about. Oh, we banter a bit, and wouldn't admit it, but we have more in common than either of us would've guessed.
Harris and the demon argue too much. Something's up there. I've caught her crying a few times. Don't like it.
And Dawn. She's the one that's getting me through. I drank too much, at first, but I haven't touched a bottle in weeks. Got to stay sober for the Little Bit. It's too much for her, first Joyce, now you. We miss you most of all, so we have that. She's getting right good at poker.
The witches are living there, so at least there's always someone about.
I thought of a new way today. You wouldn't like it, but if I'd fed off you, or Dawn, before, your blood would have been mine. I could have jumped. You'd still be here for her. No one would miss me. 'Spect I'd fit right in, in hell.
It kills me anyway, thinking of what you might be going through.
Talk to you tomorrow. Miss you.
Buffy dropped Spike's diary on the crypt floor. She cried.
"Buffy," Dawn asked, "What do you mean, that Spike did this?"
Her voice was small, overwhelmed. She wiped away a tear. "That necklace. Amulet. Shone. So bright. Burned them up. The ubervamps. Made everything ... made him ... I think he burned up. Like them ..."
Dawn looked down into the abyss that was once her home. "He's a hero? Spike's a hero?"
Buffy nodded. "A champion."
Xander looked at Giles. Giles looked at Xander. Then they both looked down. Not looking at Buffy. Not wanting to believe.
"There's something I don't get." Dawn seemed confused. "Where did he put the ocean?"
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