The Order of Arelius
Summary - Its 150 years later and the powers decide to bring Buffy back for some greater scheme of things. Spike's still fighting the good fight. I know original much. B/S
Timeframe - I started this after Season Six so everything that has happened after then well, didn't.
Disclaimer - Not mine, never will be, doesn't mean I can't dream.
A/N - If you want it take it just tell me. I like to gloat. If you want more let me know. Read and review people.
The Keeper
The door to a substantial size apartment clicked open and a figure dressed entirely in black slid through. With a click the door shut. Not bothering with light the figure peeled off his leather jacket to reveal a stake strapped either side of his waist, a lot like John Wayne in an old Western movie. Undoing the stakes, he pulled his shirt off, wincing as he aggravated the cut on his right shoulder which was slowly seeping blood. Quickly forgetting it he ran his hand through his short shock blonde hair.
Slowly the figure began to shed more clothing pulling stakes and knives which appeared to have come from no where as he went. Dropping his disregarded clothing and weapons on the floor he quietly made his way to the shower still not bothering to turn any lights on. Reaching his destination he turned the hot water on letting it run before he slipped under the steaming jet. As the water ran over his tense body his mind began to revisit the events of earlier that night. He'd gone out on a routine patrol; everything had seemed perfectly in the normal for a town the likes of Sunnydale. Or that was until he'd stumbled upon a couple in a local demon bar mouthing off about the Clarice; the wannabe big noise of the demon underworld.
Four hours ago
The door to the small pub burst open with a loud bang to reveal a figure dressed entirely in black yet sporting shock blonde hair. The bar immediately fell into a hush, the patrons staring into their drinks too afraid to move. That was except for a youngish couple who were still talking, like the man who'd just walked in was just another ordinary person. The gentle thud of boots added a macabre beat to their chatter; like the music from a documentary of a cheater chasing a baby zebra. The boots stopped and waited for his moment to pounce.
"Clarice does know she'll have the 'Keeper' after her if she goes after the Slayer?" the female asked her voice betraying her shock and awe.
The male smirked with calculated precision, "I think she counted on that."
"Counted?" the female almost squealed. "So she's gone insane too?"
Her male counterparts smirk only widened and he made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. "Plan already down the road."
The female's delighted laughter rang out through the silent bar like an AK-47. "The Slayer's already dead!"
The male vampire nodded and gently reached out to cup the vampire's cheek, only he didn't get any further than that as the click of a gun being locked and loaded. Both vampires turned around their smiles never wavering.
"You know that won't kill us, Spike," the male drawled. The female eyes widened slightly in shock.
"The 'Keeper'!" she whispered barely audible.
She was ignored. Spike cocked his head to the side studying the male vampire. "They still hurt like hell."
The male vamp didn't flinch and coolly started up at the older vampire. Spike wasn't as tall as he thought he would be. He'd heard all these rumours that made Spike out to be almost some kind of God, but now faced with him for the first time he didn't seem that intimidating. "So Spike," he began spitting Spike's name like it was something disgusting. "I suppose you're here to beat the shit out of us for Clarice's master plan. All so you can fulfil your mission, which ironically revolves around a dead girl." The vampire paused for breath or effect or whatever extremely full of himself. Spike let him ramble; most times they were extremely entertaining. He motioned to the barkeep to get him a drink, what's a party if it doesn't include alcohol? "Which is kinda ironic you know, us being dead and all? But this girl is all dead. Insignificant tiny pieces of dust which people continue to crush as they walk by everyday." The vampire shut up. He seemed to have run out of witty things to say. Spike remained silent and just smiled as he watched the barkeep quickly fumble around for a glass of scotch. Finally the bar tender got over his nerves long enough to pour Spike his desired drink. Calmly Spike threw back the drink in one swallow, ignoring the burning sensation the cheap alcohol caused as it travelled down his digestive track. Almost delicately Spike raised a single eyebrow mocking the vampire.
"What? Am I supposed to be intimidated? Supposed to fly into a rage and kill you before I torture any information out of you? Am I that transparent?" Spike gently pulled the trigger and a bullet slammed into the vampire's kneecap. He screamed in pain, immediately losing his balance. The vampire began to roll on the floor, blood pooling around his now useless knee.
"Truth is once, yeah, you'd be dead by now and I'd be screwed. Funny thing with time is you learn, you grow, you become a lot less stupid than you were. So, you lose. Because now, I'm going to torture you." Spike paused to light a cigarette, looking down on the vampire shaking his head. They had just become so predictable.
"So are we going to do this, or are you going to bore me to death?" The female vampire started to slowly edge toward the door thinking Spike had forgotten about her.
"That, mate, is entirely up to you," Spike replied. "Even try it, sweetheart, and you'll be dust faster than, well, I'm not sure what but it'll be fast." The female vampire immediately stopped in her tracks. She didn't need to turn around to know that Spike had his gun pointed at one of her kneecaps. "You know what has me stumped. Why people scream when I do this?" Spike calmly slid onto a bar stool and put one foot under the vampire's intact leg just below the knee and the other on top right on the knee and pulled up… hard. The vampire screamed as his leg was broke under the pressure. Every one of the patrons flinched as they heard the bone crack. Spike couldn't help but smile as out of the corner of his eye he saw a bone eating demon flinch at the sound of the breaking bone.
The vampire gritted his teeth against the pain. "You're supposed to be the 'Keeper'," he growled. "You can't even keep a Slayer alive. Great job you're doing there." Spike hauled the vampire onto the bar by his jacket lapels and quite literally got in his face.
"Slayers die. It's the way of the world. Clarice looking to start trouble with me isn't. And I'm a curious guy."
The patrons of the bar sat terrified, yet mesmerized by the horrific scene playing out on the bar. Some gasped in horror, others in delight as the vampire on the bar shrugged his shoulders, Spike not taking kindly to his indifference produced a dagger from his duster and drove it all the way through the vampire's right shoulder effectively pinning him to the bar. Spike sat back looking satisfied as the vampire bit down on his lip, drawing blood, but not wanting to give Spike the satisfaction of hearing him scream again. Spike lazily signalled for another drink and the bar keep obliged.
"You know, I could do this all night. I'm just starting to have some fun. Torture really is like riding a bike. Once you get started, all those little tricks start coming back to you. All the possibilities. All the places just willing to be poked with things which just weren't made for poking." Spike looked calmly down on the vampire and began to slowly turn the blade in his shoulder. The vampire screamed. A scream which would have been more at home in a bad teen scary movie. Spike stopped feeling he had caused enough pain for now, best to start out slow.
The vampire began to breathe in short, heavy breaths. The fact that he was even breathing letting Spike know that they had reached his pain threshold and the vampire was starting to break. The vampire looked back up at Spike wondering how he could ever not have been intimidated by the vampire staring back down at him. He seemed to glow an aura of power, which he had somehow missed earlier.
"Clarice," the vampire gasped, "something big. Doesn't want… you in… the way." The vampire paused waiting for Spike to give him his next cue.
"I'm waiting," Spike announced impatiently after a short pause.
"Clarice… she's been doing a lot of research. Bringing something or things back or forward, however you look at it. No one really understands what she's on about. We just know its apocalyptic… and she's going to pull it off." Each word of the vampire's short speech was spoken with more conviction than the last. It had turned into a threat.
"Wasn't so hard was it?" Spike asked. Before the vampire could answer he was dust, his girlfriend following not long after.
A loud banging on the door jolted Spike back to the present and into the realization that the water had gone cold. He gave the tap an aggressive tug and stepped out of the shower, slipping a towel around his waist. Spike pulled open the door rather annoyed at being disturbed to find two perky brunettes staring up at him. The younger of the pair, about sixteen, eyes bugged out of her head and her jaw dropped as she saw exactly how not dressed Spike was. Gently Spike leaned over and snapped her jaw shut with a slight smile. The girl blushed about twelve shades of red in about two seconds. The older of the pair however remained immune to Spike's perfectly sculpted body and quickly moved into the bathroom so there was no way Spike could avoid talking to her.
"So, how come I'm not allowed to shower in peace?" Spike asked flippantly.
The younger brunette looked up at him wide eyed. "Big news," she said innocently, but with no elaboration.
"Alicia's dead," the older announced.
"Yeah, Cordelia, I heard a rumour to that effect," Spike answered.
Cordelia looked nothing short of appalled. "You heard a rumour to that effect?! Is that all you can say? The Slayer's dead. You could at least pretend you care."
Spike's ice-blue eyes bore into Cordelia. "Look girlie, that touchy feely crap may work on the magnificent poof, but I don't have time for it right now. Our Little Miss Big Bad is making a stir. I say I care about that."
Cordelia shook her head. Sheesh, he was impossible at times. Well he was impossible most of the time.
"This wouldn't be a good time to bring up that thing, would it?" the young girl asked Cordelia.
Cordelia glared at her, looking quite pissed. "No, Lexie, it would not. But now that you mention it."
Lexie smiled back at Cordelia knowing that she was irritating the shit out of her. "Anytime, Cordy, anytime."
Cordelia looked up at Spike taking a deep breath. Why was she always the one who had to break the horrible news to people? Couldn't they pick someone else? Or maybe put up big billboards? Cordelia looked at her feet and then back at Spike again, he was rapidly growing impatient. Whatever happened on patrol had put him in a grumpy mood. Really not a good time to break bad news, but now, thanks to Lexie, she couldn't put it off. "Theyrebrininguffyack," Cordelia mumbled.
"Huh?" Spike asked. "A bit louder and remember to speak from the diaphragm." Cordelia gave him the 'ha, very cute' look and then she spat out her news out.
"They're bringing Buffy back."
TBC
Summary - Its 150 years later and the powers decide to bring Buffy back for some greater scheme of things. Spike's still fighting the good fight. I know original much. B/S
Timeframe - I started this after Season Six so everything that has happened after then well, didn't.
Disclaimer - Not mine, never will be, doesn't mean I can't dream.
A/N - If you want it take it just tell me. I like to gloat. If you want more let me know. Read and review people.
The Keeper
The door to a substantial size apartment clicked open and a figure dressed entirely in black slid through. With a click the door shut. Not bothering with light the figure peeled off his leather jacket to reveal a stake strapped either side of his waist, a lot like John Wayne in an old Western movie. Undoing the stakes, he pulled his shirt off, wincing as he aggravated the cut on his right shoulder which was slowly seeping blood. Quickly forgetting it he ran his hand through his short shock blonde hair.
Slowly the figure began to shed more clothing pulling stakes and knives which appeared to have come from no where as he went. Dropping his disregarded clothing and weapons on the floor he quietly made his way to the shower still not bothering to turn any lights on. Reaching his destination he turned the hot water on letting it run before he slipped under the steaming jet. As the water ran over his tense body his mind began to revisit the events of earlier that night. He'd gone out on a routine patrol; everything had seemed perfectly in the normal for a town the likes of Sunnydale. Or that was until he'd stumbled upon a couple in a local demon bar mouthing off about the Clarice; the wannabe big noise of the demon underworld.
Four hours ago
The door to the small pub burst open with a loud bang to reveal a figure dressed entirely in black yet sporting shock blonde hair. The bar immediately fell into a hush, the patrons staring into their drinks too afraid to move. That was except for a youngish couple who were still talking, like the man who'd just walked in was just another ordinary person. The gentle thud of boots added a macabre beat to their chatter; like the music from a documentary of a cheater chasing a baby zebra. The boots stopped and waited for his moment to pounce.
"Clarice does know she'll have the 'Keeper' after her if she goes after the Slayer?" the female asked her voice betraying her shock and awe.
The male smirked with calculated precision, "I think she counted on that."
"Counted?" the female almost squealed. "So she's gone insane too?"
Her male counterparts smirk only widened and he made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. "Plan already down the road."
The female's delighted laughter rang out through the silent bar like an AK-47. "The Slayer's already dead!"
The male vampire nodded and gently reached out to cup the vampire's cheek, only he didn't get any further than that as the click of a gun being locked and loaded. Both vampires turned around their smiles never wavering.
"You know that won't kill us, Spike," the male drawled. The female eyes widened slightly in shock.
"The 'Keeper'!" she whispered barely audible.
She was ignored. Spike cocked his head to the side studying the male vampire. "They still hurt like hell."
The male vamp didn't flinch and coolly started up at the older vampire. Spike wasn't as tall as he thought he would be. He'd heard all these rumours that made Spike out to be almost some kind of God, but now faced with him for the first time he didn't seem that intimidating. "So Spike," he began spitting Spike's name like it was something disgusting. "I suppose you're here to beat the shit out of us for Clarice's master plan. All so you can fulfil your mission, which ironically revolves around a dead girl." The vampire paused for breath or effect or whatever extremely full of himself. Spike let him ramble; most times they were extremely entertaining. He motioned to the barkeep to get him a drink, what's a party if it doesn't include alcohol? "Which is kinda ironic you know, us being dead and all? But this girl is all dead. Insignificant tiny pieces of dust which people continue to crush as they walk by everyday." The vampire shut up. He seemed to have run out of witty things to say. Spike remained silent and just smiled as he watched the barkeep quickly fumble around for a glass of scotch. Finally the bar tender got over his nerves long enough to pour Spike his desired drink. Calmly Spike threw back the drink in one swallow, ignoring the burning sensation the cheap alcohol caused as it travelled down his digestive track. Almost delicately Spike raised a single eyebrow mocking the vampire.
"What? Am I supposed to be intimidated? Supposed to fly into a rage and kill you before I torture any information out of you? Am I that transparent?" Spike gently pulled the trigger and a bullet slammed into the vampire's kneecap. He screamed in pain, immediately losing his balance. The vampire began to roll on the floor, blood pooling around his now useless knee.
"Truth is once, yeah, you'd be dead by now and I'd be screwed. Funny thing with time is you learn, you grow, you become a lot less stupid than you were. So, you lose. Because now, I'm going to torture you." Spike paused to light a cigarette, looking down on the vampire shaking his head. They had just become so predictable.
"So are we going to do this, or are you going to bore me to death?" The female vampire started to slowly edge toward the door thinking Spike had forgotten about her.
"That, mate, is entirely up to you," Spike replied. "Even try it, sweetheart, and you'll be dust faster than, well, I'm not sure what but it'll be fast." The female vampire immediately stopped in her tracks. She didn't need to turn around to know that Spike had his gun pointed at one of her kneecaps. "You know what has me stumped. Why people scream when I do this?" Spike calmly slid onto a bar stool and put one foot under the vampire's intact leg just below the knee and the other on top right on the knee and pulled up… hard. The vampire screamed as his leg was broke under the pressure. Every one of the patrons flinched as they heard the bone crack. Spike couldn't help but smile as out of the corner of his eye he saw a bone eating demon flinch at the sound of the breaking bone.
The vampire gritted his teeth against the pain. "You're supposed to be the 'Keeper'," he growled. "You can't even keep a Slayer alive. Great job you're doing there." Spike hauled the vampire onto the bar by his jacket lapels and quite literally got in his face.
"Slayers die. It's the way of the world. Clarice looking to start trouble with me isn't. And I'm a curious guy."
The patrons of the bar sat terrified, yet mesmerized by the horrific scene playing out on the bar. Some gasped in horror, others in delight as the vampire on the bar shrugged his shoulders, Spike not taking kindly to his indifference produced a dagger from his duster and drove it all the way through the vampire's right shoulder effectively pinning him to the bar. Spike sat back looking satisfied as the vampire bit down on his lip, drawing blood, but not wanting to give Spike the satisfaction of hearing him scream again. Spike lazily signalled for another drink and the bar keep obliged.
"You know, I could do this all night. I'm just starting to have some fun. Torture really is like riding a bike. Once you get started, all those little tricks start coming back to you. All the possibilities. All the places just willing to be poked with things which just weren't made for poking." Spike looked calmly down on the vampire and began to slowly turn the blade in his shoulder. The vampire screamed. A scream which would have been more at home in a bad teen scary movie. Spike stopped feeling he had caused enough pain for now, best to start out slow.
The vampire began to breathe in short, heavy breaths. The fact that he was even breathing letting Spike know that they had reached his pain threshold and the vampire was starting to break. The vampire looked back up at Spike wondering how he could ever not have been intimidated by the vampire staring back down at him. He seemed to glow an aura of power, which he had somehow missed earlier.
"Clarice," the vampire gasped, "something big. Doesn't want… you in… the way." The vampire paused waiting for Spike to give him his next cue.
"I'm waiting," Spike announced impatiently after a short pause.
"Clarice… she's been doing a lot of research. Bringing something or things back or forward, however you look at it. No one really understands what she's on about. We just know its apocalyptic… and she's going to pull it off." Each word of the vampire's short speech was spoken with more conviction than the last. It had turned into a threat.
"Wasn't so hard was it?" Spike asked. Before the vampire could answer he was dust, his girlfriend following not long after.
A loud banging on the door jolted Spike back to the present and into the realization that the water had gone cold. He gave the tap an aggressive tug and stepped out of the shower, slipping a towel around his waist. Spike pulled open the door rather annoyed at being disturbed to find two perky brunettes staring up at him. The younger of the pair, about sixteen, eyes bugged out of her head and her jaw dropped as she saw exactly how not dressed Spike was. Gently Spike leaned over and snapped her jaw shut with a slight smile. The girl blushed about twelve shades of red in about two seconds. The older of the pair however remained immune to Spike's perfectly sculpted body and quickly moved into the bathroom so there was no way Spike could avoid talking to her.
"So, how come I'm not allowed to shower in peace?" Spike asked flippantly.
The younger brunette looked up at him wide eyed. "Big news," she said innocently, but with no elaboration.
"Alicia's dead," the older announced.
"Yeah, Cordelia, I heard a rumour to that effect," Spike answered.
Cordelia looked nothing short of appalled. "You heard a rumour to that effect?! Is that all you can say? The Slayer's dead. You could at least pretend you care."
Spike's ice-blue eyes bore into Cordelia. "Look girlie, that touchy feely crap may work on the magnificent poof, but I don't have time for it right now. Our Little Miss Big Bad is making a stir. I say I care about that."
Cordelia shook her head. Sheesh, he was impossible at times. Well he was impossible most of the time.
"This wouldn't be a good time to bring up that thing, would it?" the young girl asked Cordelia.
Cordelia glared at her, looking quite pissed. "No, Lexie, it would not. But now that you mention it."
Lexie smiled back at Cordelia knowing that she was irritating the shit out of her. "Anytime, Cordy, anytime."
Cordelia looked up at Spike taking a deep breath. Why was she always the one who had to break the horrible news to people? Couldn't they pick someone else? Or maybe put up big billboards? Cordelia looked at her feet and then back at Spike again, he was rapidly growing impatient. Whatever happened on patrol had put him in a grumpy mood. Really not a good time to break bad news, but now, thanks to Lexie, she couldn't put it off. "Theyrebrininguffyack," Cordelia mumbled.
"Huh?" Spike asked. "A bit louder and remember to speak from the diaphragm." Cordelia gave him the 'ha, very cute' look and then she spat out her news out.
"They're bringing Buffy back."
TBC