Rating: Not yet Determined.

Summary: Takes place five years later. Hope Summers is a remarkably gifted child—so gifted that the Council of Watchers is dying to get their hands on her. The Scooby gang has been able to thwart the Council thus far…but they can’t hold Quentin off forever.

Disclaimer: I have taken over Mutant Enemy and I have kidnapped Joss! (Mwahahaha!!) No more disgusting Cordelia/Connor relationship! Spike is now my sex slave!! Joss is tied up to my chair like Andrew and must bark like a dog if he wants to be fed!! MWAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAAA!!!  What? Okay, fine. I lied. One out of the five of those is true. Heh, you have to figure out which one! I don't own any of this. Just borrowing from Joss. Speaking of borrowing Joss took my idea for the First Evil! That ponce! I came up with the idea for the FE to come back before he did!! (I wrote "The First Evil" Before Season 7 aired) Now I have to come up with a different plot line to my story!! I was going to have TFE come back and be the Ultimate Big Bad for this fic, but oooooh no, Joss has to be a little bitch and steal my idea! Now I have to go with plan two. >Pouts< That's why I haven't updated in so long-- I've been trying to figure out how to make the alternate story line work! Well that and Real Life has been dumping the Mutha load of CRAP on me lately. Sometimes I really hate that I believe in Karma. >Broods<

Hm, there was a disclaimer in there somewhere. Good luck finding it.

They all fall down

Chapter 1: Surprise
 

        The morning light streamed in through the blinds, illuminating the rumpled bed that held two very asleep occupants. It was early morning, close to five-thirty; an un-Godly hour by the bed’s occupant’s standards. Nonetheless….

         “Mommy!!! Daddy!! Wake up!!” A streak of blonde hair flung open the door and jumped upon the bed with unnatural speed…and began bouncing to jar its occupants awake. “Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!! I’m five years old today!!” The child shrieked happily.

         With twin groans, both parents sat up and squinted at the young girl that was still bouncing on their bed. Apparently the little girl had no respect for the late hours her parents kept; Slaying the Demons and Vampires of Sunnydale.

         “Happy Birthday sweetie.” Buffy croaked tiredly, but to her credit, as cheerfully as she could muster.

         “You couldn’t possibly be five.” Spike muttered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “You were just running around in nappies yesterday.”

         “Daaaddy!!” Hope gave him her most charming pout while placing her hands firmly on her hips. “I haven’t been in diapers since I was a baby!”

         “I know that love.” Spike melted and grabbed his daughter for a hug, tickling her in the process.

         “That tickles!!” Hope squirmed and laughed.

         “Really? Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Spike grinned maliciously, tickling her harder.

         “Daddy!! I’m too old to be tickled!!” Hope laughed, squirming out of his reach.

         “Are you sure you’re five?” Spike gave her a mock skeptical look while scratching his head speculatively. “You sure did grow up quick.”

         “And she managed to wrap her father around her little finger just as quickly.” Buffy smirked.

         “Well now, love, what’d ya say we go and rustle up some breakfast?” Spike said to Hope, while casting Buffy a light glare for the jibe.

         “Can we have pancakes? I love pancakes!” Hope’s face lit up with delight.

         “Yes, I know love. You have pancakes just about every bloody day.” Spike groaned as he got out of bed.

         “Will you cook the pancakes for me today Daddy?” Hope asked.

         “Errr… I donno love, I think Mommy should cook.” Spike grimaced at the idea of attempting to cook. The last time he had tried to cook…even Nigel had made fun of him…and *he* was a damned book!

         “Pleeeeeeeaaaaase??” Hope gave him her doe eyes, a look that surpassed Dawn’s puppy eyes any day. Spike groaned in defeat while Buffy’s face turned red from trying not to laugh.

         “Oh alright.” Spike caved with a sigh and a grimace.

         “Yaaaaaaayyyyy!!!!” Hope squealed and jumped up and down in excitement before grabbing her father’s hand and practically dragging him out of the room. When Spike glanced over his shoulder giving Buffy a desperate look as he was drug from the room, Buffy smirked and stuck her index finger in the air, while twirling the other around it, miming Hope twisting Spike around her finger. Spike gave her a suffering look as he was dragged out of sight.

         Buffy grinned as she heard Spike and Hope down in the kitchen, and moments later she heard pots and pans banging around—with Spike’s colorful curses when a few pots crashed to the floor. Buffy waited, and predictably she heard Hope scolding Spike for his language. Buffy had always warned Spike against swearing in front of their daughter, but one day Spike had swore on instinct when he slammed his hand in a drawer, and quite to her surprise, Hope scolded her father all by herself, at the age of two.
 

         Hope was an astoundingly advanced child. Only Three months old and Hope could sit up by herself. Six months and she said her first word, recognizing Buffy as “Mama”. At Eight months, Hope had started crawling. Ten months Hope referred to Spike as “Dada”, and Dawn as “Dani”. Twelve months and Hope was potty trained, and could walk on her own. By Two years old, she used full sentences, and had quite a grasp of the English language. The child had proven to be a fast learner… and possessed twice the energy a normal child her age would have. Which made it incredibly difficult to hire Babysitters. Whenever Buffy and Spike *did* hire sitters, it was always at least three Scooby members—because that was how many it took to match her energy…and to protect her.

         “Daddy, will you make funny shapes like Auntie Tara?” Buffy heard Hope ask her father from downstairs.

        “I think that’s what you’re getting any way luv.” Spike said.

         Buffy smiled to herself as she got out of bed and headed for the shower.

         As Buffy turned on the tap, she couldn’t help but wish their life was a simple as it seemed on the surface…but it was far from peaceful.
 

         True to Nigel’s word, the Council did come…and kept on coming for Hope. They struck often, and they struck unexpectedly. But each time Buffy, Spike and the gang all miraculously fended them off. Only one time it had become frighteningly close…one Watcher had actually gotten a hare’s breath from killing Hope when she was Three years old.

        Buffy fought the icy chill that traveled down her spine at the memory. The Watchers had attacked when they least expected it--at the Mall.

        Six of them had descended out of nowhere, dressed in street clothes. Buffy, Spike and Hope were preoccupied buying Hope new clothes, when one swooped in and grabbed Hope while the other five simultaneously attacked Buffy and Spike to drive their attention away from their daughter. And it worked. While Buffy and Spike were absorbed in the fight, the sixth Watcher that had grabbed Hope ran with her screaming and kicking all the way. Spike fought like a crazed man, trying to throw off his attackers and follow, but every time he knocked one down, another came at him…and the same was happening with Buffy. They still didn’t know how Hope escaped her kidnapper, but the moment Buffy and Spike had defeated the five Watchers, Hope came running out of the crowd and launched herself into Buffy’s arms. They didn’t bother to go looking for the other Watcher. Instead they got out of there as quickly as possible. Hope never said a word on what happened, no matter how many times they asked.

         Buffy turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed the towel from the towel rack and dried herself off, rubbing a little too hard as if trying to rub off the bad memories.
 

         For years the Watchers had followed a pattern, precise and methodical. They were always under surveillance, always being watched. For five years the Watchers attacked when Buffy and Spike’s guard was low. They always attacked when few Scoobies were around. They always attacked when Hope went out to play… and they always attacked on Hope’s birthday.

         Buffy left the bathroom, got dressed and headed downstairs to assess the breakfast damage. She had to suppress a cringe when she smelled burning pancake batter, but pushed her way into the kitchen nonetheless…and started laughing hysterically.

         “We’re making pancakes Mommy!” Hope exclaimed cheerfully, holding up her spatula caked in pancake batter as proof.

         “I see that.” Buffy said between laughter.

         The two of them were a mess. They both had bisquick powder all over themselves, with streaks of batter in odd places, mostly on their faces. The counter behind them was just as messy, the evidence of sloppy batter stirring, cracked eggshells, spilled milk and dirty measuring cups were strewn everywhere.

         “Okay love, time to flip it.” Spike told Hope, and she leaned forward on her little stool and unsteadily flipped the pancake. It ended up halfway in the pan and halfway out.

         “Ooops.” Hope said.

         “That’s okay love, this one’s burnt on the bottom anyway.” Spike grimaced and scraped the pancake into a stack of burnt pancakes off to the side. The plate holding burnt pancakes had a pile higher than the edible ones. “How the bloody hell do know when to flip them? They always get burnt!” Spike said to Buffy as he poured more batter into the pan.

         “After the batter gets little air bubbles. See?” Buffy demonstrated, waiting until the bubbles surfaced, and then expertly flipped it, while both Hope and Spike ‘Oh-ed’ in amazed understanding. From then on, the edible pile of pancakes grew bigger than the burnt pile, and soon they were setting the dining room table for breakfast. Buffy ordered both of them to wash their hands and faces before eating, so she sat down first, waiting as she listened to the two of them wash up, while thinking how alike father and Daughter were.
 

         From the moment Spike laid eyes on his daughter the two were practically inseparable. Hope had Spike wrapped around her little finger before she could crawl. The two were a pair, really. Hope was like a perfect copy of both of her parents. She had Buffy’s honey blonde hair, Spike’s blue eyes, both their wit, and their strength. By the time Hope was two years old, it was clear that she had abnormal strength and advanced hearing, sight and smell. And she had the most unnerving way of seeing the truth in things. She had figured out what Spike was all by herself, asking out of the blue one day why he was a Vampire. And Buffy and Spike had always been extra careful to never let her see him in game face or drinking blood. When they asked her how she knew that, she just said she could “feel” it. She had also asked why Buffy “Slayed” daddy’s kind. They had no choice but to tell her the truth—she saw right through their attempts to make something up. And then one day Hope had asked why Buffy and Spike hadn’t Slayed the bad men that were trying to kill her. It was then that they had to explain why they couldn’t just kill them…and why the men were after her in the first place. From then on, they realized they couldn’t hide anything from their daughter, so they explained everything to her…and she took it all surprisingly well. Even after Nigel had attempted his usual tradition of scaring the pants off her when he first spoke, Hope wasn’t in the least bit surprised. Which definitely took the wind out of Nigel’s sails. She had just smiled and greeted him as if he was physically present, saying that she was glad to finally meet Mommy and Daddy’s friend. Nigel was clearly flabbergasted.

        At times, it seemed that Hope had intelligence beyond her years…and then the next moment she was a regular five year old again.

        Like now… Buffy thought as she heard her daughter running down the hall towards her.

         “We’re done!!” Hope gleefully announced as she ran into the dinning room with Spike tailing behind her at a more subdued pace. Hope presented her freshly washed hands to Buffy, and at Buffy’s nod of approval, they sat down and began to dig into their pancakes.

         “When will Papa Giles get here?” Hope asked around a mouthful of pancake.

         “We got a call from him last night honey. He’ll be here in time for your party.” Buffy reassured her.

         “And Auntie Dawni?” Hope asked, shoveling more pancakes in her mouth.

         “She’ll be here too, don’t worry. And please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Buffy gave her a look that said she should know better.
 

         Dawn had been accepted at Sunnydale’s Community College and was currently living at the dorms. The campus was still just as fraught with Demon activity (minus the Initiative) and decided to follow in her sister’s footsteps, becoming the resident Campus “Slayer”. She would never be Called of course, but she had the skills and didn’t want to just stand by and watch others in need when she could help. Dawn had said as much to her sister when Buffy protested her idea to do just that. Dawn had done a lot of growing up in the past couple of years, and she was also a very skilled Witch, much to Buffy’s chagrin.

        One day, to Buffy’s astonishment, when she and Hope were home alone, Hope told Buffy in a very serious manor “Not to worry about Aunty Dawni becoming a bad Witch, like Aunty Willow did.”
 Buffy never told anyone what Hope had said, but from then on she didn’t really object too much when Dawn presented her skills as a Witch.

         Everyone looked up from their plates as they heard the doorbell ringing. Hope suddenly shot from her chair and  ran to the door, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ll get it!!”

         Buffy and Spike exchanged curious glances since they weren’t expecting any party guests to arrive until 3pm, and quickly followed after Hope. They arrived just as Hope pulled open the door.

         A middle-aged woman stood on the front porch, her slightly frizzy red-blonde curly hair had gray streaks through it and was twisted up and pinned haphazardly; her eyes were blue and rimmed with very bookish glasses. She wore a gray-violet blazer suit and looked very Watcher-like. She looked very tidy…and very disorganized at the same time. Her Watcher-like appearance caused Buffy to tense and push Hope behind her protectively.

         “Um, hello…” The woman started a bit shyly, “I was wondering if you could help me find Rupert Giles.”

         “…I know you.” Spike furrowed his brow in confusion and surprise. “You…you’re the woman that helped me. Celia.”

         “Yes, Celia Brown.” Celia smiled warmly, albeit tiredly, at Spike and Buffy.

         “You aren’t like them….like the others.” Hope stated, peaking her head out from behind her mother, giving Celia a look as if she were looking at something in her no one else could see.

         “Well hello there, you must be Hope. Rupert told me all about you.” Celia smiled warmly at Hope, and glanced back up at Buffy and Spike. “She’s beautiful. She looks just like the both of you.”

         “Um, thanks…” Buffy said hesitantly, unsure of what to say. Unsure of the entire situation, really.

         “I know you weren’t expecting me, but I need to see Rupert. It’s rather urgent.” Celia said, adjusting her glasses self-consciously.

         “Giles has an apartment on 4th street. I have his number if you want to call him.” Buffy said a bit hesitantly, moving aside so that Celia could enter.

         “Oh yes, thank you. It won’t take but a minute.” Celia said in relief, walking over the threshold. It was then that Buffy and Spike noticed she was carrying suitcases in both hands.

         Spike hurriedly took both suitcases from her and set them aside, and she thanked him. Hope sat quietly near the TV and played with her toys.

         “Is something wrong?” Buffy asked, eyeing the suitcases as she directed Celia to the phone in the living room.

         “Well, yes, I was quite recently fired from the Council…or rather, I was attacked in my home by several of Quentin’s goonies. I took the murder attempts as Quentin’s version of a pink slip.” Celia said a bit irritably (but surprisingly with an air of humor) as she picked up the receiver. Buffy dialed Giles’ number for her.

         “My God, are you okay?” Buffy asked.

         “Oh, yes, thank you. I certainly gave them a run for their money. After that I figured it was time to get out of Dodge if you catch my drift.” Celia said as she listened to the line ring. Giles answered the line and Celia turned her attention to the conversation.  “Rupert, it’s Celia. Well, I’m fine, apart from the murder attempts…how have you been?”

         Spike tapped Buffy discreetly to get her attention, and they moved to the other side of the room where Hope was playing quietly with her toys. Buffy gave him an inquisitive look.

         “Nigel didn’t warn us that there was a Watcher here, pet. Don’t you think that’s a bit odd?”

       ::Well she’s certainly not an active Watcher anymore, is she? And she was never really on Quentin’s side. I saw no cause for alarm.:: Nigel answered for himself.

         “How did you know who she was?” Buffy asked Nigel.

       ::Rupert, of course.:: Was Nigel’s curt reply, and then he vanished from their thoughts, leaving Buffy and Spike to puzzle over that simple statement.

         Just then Celia had finished her phone call and joined them again. “Rupert insisted that he’d be right over. Is that alright dear?” Celia asked.

         “Of course. Well then, would you like to join us for breakfast? There’s plenty of pancakes for everyone if you don’t mind Spike and Hope’s cooking.” Buffy said.

         “Oh that would be lovely, dear. I don’t mean to impose, but I’ve been on a plane all night and it’s tragic what they consider food on those airlines.”

         “I’ll get her a plate mommy!” Hope dropped her toys and ran into the kitchen at breakneck speed.

         “Oh my, you certainly are fast! Thank you dear.” Celia said in awe to Hope when she returned seconds later with the plate. Celia turned back to Buffy and Spike and said a bit dazedly, “Well! …I see she didn’t inherit just your looks.”

         Giles came in through the door without knocking and followed the voices into the dining room. “Celia, how are you?”

         “Rupert.” Celia stood quickly from her chair and embraced Giles in a hug. “I’m fine now. How have you been holding up?”

         “Oh quite alright. I-I take it Quentin has…ah, stepped up his tactics?” Giles said, adjusting his glasses and motioned for Celia to sit again, while taking the chair next to her. Buffy poured Giles a cup of tea and he gave her a great full grin.

         “I’m afraid so. Fortunately, I ah—left him a bit of a parting present.” Celia said with a hint of a malicious grin.

         “Oh? Do tell.” Giles raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

         “Well I had to leave quite quickly so I couldn’t do all that I wanted, but I managed to send a message to him.”

         “Why do I get the feeling this “message” was nothing of the sort? What did you send?” Giles asked, sipping on his tea.

         “Oh nothing much,” Celia replied modestly. “ I just infested his home and office with Faeries.”

         Giles choked on his tea and Hope giggled.

         “Faeries?” Spike raised his eyebrow sardonically.

         “Oh don’t think they’re the cute little Victorian cherubs everyone thinks them to be…in fact, they’re quite malicious if you anger them…and it just so happens I stirred them up a great deal. Quentin’s Home and Office should be in right shambles by now. The fun thing about Faeries is that they are malicious subtly. Things turn up missing and you find them in odd places weeks later, sharp objects underfoot far too often, books and texts ruined by ‘accident’, sour milk, rotten eggs, that sort of thing. And you never see them.”

         “Bloody irritating they are—Quentin set the lot of them in my apartment when I Graduated. Well done Celia…quite fitting revenge, if you ask me.” Giles attempted not to snigger as he sipped his tea, but everyone could tell he had a grin ear to ear.

         ::Yes well, malicious Faeries aside,:: Nigel interrupted, sending Celia about a foot in the air in surprise at the detached voice, ::What are your plans, Ms. Brown, if you don’t mind me asking?::

         “Who said that?” Celia asked looking around for the owner of the voice, for it had sounded like it was spoken into her ear.

         “Nigel.” Came the flat, unanimous reply from the group.

         “Oh, right…the book.” Celia said, a bit of her color returning.

         ::I wasn’t always a book, I’ll have you know. I’m still quite human!:: Nigel said, a bit defensively.

         “Yes, well, Nigel’s distasteful idea of humor aside, he brings up a good question. What do you plan to do now?” Giles asked Celia.

         Everyone heard Nigel’s ::Hrmph!:: in their minds, but ignored it.

         “Well naturally I plan to stay here in Sunnydale and help you defeat Quentin however possible.” Celia said, quite mater-of-factly.

         “Ah…well, good, good. Erm…do you h-have an idea of where you’re…ah, going to…ah, stay?” Giles asked while nervously fumbling around with his glasses, which caused Buffy and Spike to raise their eyebrows.

         “Well I plan to stay at an Inn as soon as I can straighten out my money situation. Until then, is it all right if I bunk with you, Rupert? It won’t take but a few days.”

         “Y-yes, of course. Naturally.”

         “Lovely! Well, how about we take my things over to your flat then? I only brought two suitcases.” Celia rose from her chair.

         “Right …I suppose we should be off then.” Giles stood also and turned to leave with Celia, but turned back to Buffy, Spike and Hope. “We’ll be back for Hope’s birthday party, of course. Three you said?”

         “Yup, that’s when the cake gets served up.” Buffy confirmed.

         “My cake has strawberries on it!” Hope announced excitedly. To which Buffy automatically pierced Spike with an icy glare.

         “Spike…” Buffy said warningly.

         “I didn’t say anything, I swear!” Spike said quickly…too quickly. Buffy narrowed her eyes further.

         “Honest!” Spike said, edging out of his chair ever so slightly, preparing to bolt.

         “Daddy didn’t tell me anything, mommy.” Hope said mater-of-factly. Buffy relaxed her stance and Spike let out a sigh of relief. “He showed me!” Hope finished with a smile that could have been classified as evil, if not for her completely angelic features.

         “SPIKE!!” Buffy gave Spike such a heated look, he didn’t even bother in defending himself, he instantly shot out of his chair and made a run for it, Buffy racing after him.

         Giles and Celia both looked at each other imploringly as they heard the duo crashing around in their chase—first into the kitchen (around the center island a few times), which lead into the living room, through the foyer, back to the Dinning room where Buffy chased Spike around the table a few times (nearly knocking Giles over when Spike dashed past him), and then back out into the foyer and up the stairs.

         “That was supposed to be a surprise!! You are SOOOOO dusted!!” Buffy threatened as she dashed up the stairs after him.

         “She made me do it, love! Honest!” Spike called back. There was lots more banging around up stairs; at one point Spike yelled “OW! Bloody hell!”, to which Buffy let out a triumphant “Ha!”, and then more stomping around, some more crashing, what sounded like a lamp breaking and then a door slamming shut, and a loud thud as if someone had slammed into it at a dead run.

         “SPIKE!! Open the door!” Buffy demanded as she pounded on it with her fist.

         “No.” Came the muffled reply from inside a room.

         “SPIKE!” Buffy said warningly.

         “No, you’ll stake me.” Spike replied. Buffy let out an aggravated sigh, and there was a loud clanking noise, as if she had thrown a stake out of reach.

         “There, it’s gone.” She said impatiently.

         “Now the other one.” Spike said. Another suffering sigh from Buffy as a second stake went flying out of reach.

         “And the third one behind your back.” Spike continued. Buffy groaned in annoyance as another stake went flying.

         A few seconds later the door slowly opened with a creak, and then suddenly Spike yelped, followed by the sound of Spike being bodily slammed into the wall of the hallway. A moment later Buffy “Oooph!”-ed and there was a second crash, and then loud banging as the two of them tumbled down the stairway, Buffy landing on top of Spike in an awkward position at the bottom of the stairs.

         “Good lord, are they always like this?” Celia asked both Giles and Hope, a bit aghast.

        "You should have seen them when they first met." Giles muttered.

         Hope had sat through the entire thing, just listening calmly as if it were an every day occurrence. When Celia had asked her about it, Hope gave her a serene smile, hopped out of her chair and calmly walked to where her parents had entangled themselves at the bottom of the stairs. Giles and Celia followed, curious.

         Buffy and Spike were still trying to untangle themselves while insulting each other when they finally looked up and saw Hope standing next to them.

         “Aah…” Buffy flushed, completely embarrassed. “Honey, I uh…” Buffy started to make an excuse to her daughter, but she trailed off unexpectedly, her face going a bit blank as she looked into her daughter’s eyes. Celia and Giles gave each other a quizzical look and then stepped closer to see what was going on. When they looked closer they saw that Spike had the exact same look in his eyes that Buffy did, and they were both staring at Hope.

         Giles and Celia exchanged a more pointed glance and moved closer.

         “Rupert…!” Celia exclaimed, realizing something. Giles nodded in agreement, showing he had come to the same discovery.

         “My word…she’s…” Giles started to say, but then both Buffy and Spike blinked and came out of the trance. Hope then fixed her eyes on Giles and Celia. They fell into those deep blue eyes...

         ::This didn’t happen…you didn’t see anything…:: A faint, child-like voice whispered in Giles’ head. The world fell away, and all he could see and hear was this Place he was in. There was a surrounding noise that he couldn’t quite place, maybe like a light breeze, but with omnipresent voices on the wind, that said everything and nothing all at once. ::You didn’t see anything…nothing happened here.:: The voice whispered again…

         And the next thing Giles knew, he and Celia were in his car, and he was driving to his flat.

         “Did you just feel that?” Giles asked, feeling disoriented…it had felt as if the ground had lurched beneath him, but then set itself right again.

         “Feel what?” Celia asked from the passenger side as she gazed out the window. Giles blinked a few times, and his head cleared.

         “Oh…never mind. It was nothing.” Giles shook his head. Must have been an earthquake. Bloody State.

next chapter

back