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As soon as Leonna had been killed, Spike and Dru beat a hasty retreat. They had grabbed their already-packed bags and taken the car to the airport. They were taking off for Paris as soon as they could. Dru had always wanted to see Paris, she said she wanted to taste a Frenchman. Spike was only too happy to go, he knew going back to Sunnydale would be like asking for the death penalty. Dru pouted slightly at the thought of all her dolls, but was soothed by Spike’s promise for new ones.
He sat in quiet reflection, idly smoking a cigarette. He thought about Leonna, and how close he had come to succumbing to her charms. In some ways, she had been even more mad than Drusilla. And the things she had done, little, subtle things that raised his suspicions of her sanity. He gazed over at his baby and knew he had made the right choice.
Whatever the hell that meant.
Buffy stood in front of the gypsies for the final time. She seemed resigned in some way, her manner quiet and almost pensive. She felt a newfound respect towards herself from them. No one spoke a word of Arianna, Buffy had heard from Ireena that she was in serious trouble. It was just as well that she didn’t see her, Buffy wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold her temper.
The ritual was complete, none of her friends could be turned against her. She had come alone to offer her thanks.
“Look, I know I acted like a...well, I’m not gonna say it. You know. It’s the Slayer in me. I just wanted to thank you for your help, I can understand that it was difficult for you, what with Jenny and all. So...thanks, I guess,” Buffy finished awkwardly. They sat, staring at her in silence.
“Have a safe journey home, child,” Ireena said kindly from her
chair. Buffy smiled and nodded, taking it as her cue to leave.
She turned and walked out of the room.