Title: "One Good Day"
Time Period/Spoilers: Immediately following 'Not Fade Away" with references to 'Fool For Love".
Rating: PG-13
Summary: At the end of 'Not Fade Away', we saw Angel, Gunn, Illyria and (more importantly) Spike fight the mother of all battles. What happened to Spike in the end? Warning, Angst!
Author's Notes: I haven't written that many Buffy/Angel fics, but now with both series gone, this looks to be my last. Spike's always been my favorite character, so it should be appropriate he should go with a bang.
"One Good Day"
"Damn it, Spike!" Angel yelled. "I wanted to slay the dragon!"
"Oh, boo-bloody-hoo, Angel!" The platinum blonde vampire said as he slid off the carcass of the massive reptile. "Besides," he pointed across the way to a massive 30 foot body slumped near the side of a building, its head covered in arrows. "You got to pull a Legolas on that giant mountain troll!"
His sire rolled his eyes as he and Illyria ran over to him. Spike grunted as he hit the ground, ready for another fight. He lost count as to how many he'd killed so far, but he knew it hadn't made a dent in their numbers. The Senior Partners were throwing everything at them. Which is why he said 'to hell with it', and went after the biggest threat to them so far.
He was breathing hard and swaying a bit just as Angel and Illyria got to him. The leather clad goddess caught him in time and steadied him.
"We thought you were dead," she simply, studying him with those blue eyes of hers.
Angel shook his head in disgust. "I though you were crazy throwing yourself into its mouth like that!"
Spike smirked and glanced back at the body of the dragon. "It worked, didn't it? That's one dragon who now knows that this hors d'oeuvre can still fight even while in its gullet." Angel barked a reluctant laugh. Spike started to as well, but frowned when he looked around.
"Where's Charlie Boy?" he asked, dreading the answer. Angel grimly looked at Illyria who looked away, not meeting any of their eyes.
"Dead," she said simply. Angel closed his eyes and Spike sighed.
"How long did he last, anyway?" Spike asked.
"I was wrong," she said quietly. "Gunn fought for 15 minutes…and he made every minute count." Although ragged and bleeding, Illyria 's lips twitched in a slight smile.
Spike nodded in admiration. "Good for him...good for him." He glanced at Angel and then to Illyria . All were bleeding and had bloodied scratches and claw marks all over their torsos. Spike had lost his leather duster and upper shirt while fighting his way through the dragon. Although the blonde vampire and the goddess were tired and somewhat worse for wear, Angel, though hurt, still had a strength to him.
"What did you eat this morning, anyway? Wheaties?" Spike asked.
"Can you not smell it?" Illyria asked. "He has the strength of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart flowing through his veins. Their ancient power is infused in his blood."
"How the bloody hell did you manage that?" Spike asked incredulously.
Angel looked a little smug. "Let's just say that Marcus talks too much."
Spike frowned. "You mean that 'Agent Smith' wannabe?" Angel nodded and Spike chuckled. "Good for you, then."
A terrible screeching and howling echoed through the alley and all three tensed, gazing at the growing darkness on the far end.
"And here I thought we scared them off," Spike said, shaking his head. "Looks like it's Last Call, people."
"The loss of the dragon and troll scattered them briefly," Illyria said. "But they've regrouped and are coming back. They fear of us now, but are downright terrified of their masters."
"Round Two, then," Angel said, grimly hefting his sword. He started to walk forward but was stopped by Spike, who looked at him for a moment and then struck his arm out. Angel looked at it briefly, a bit taken back at the gesture. But just as quickly, his arm clasped that of his childe's and gripped it hard.
"See you on the other side, Angel," Spike said quietly.
"For Buffy," Angel returned, not knowing what else to say. But Spike grinned and nodded before turning to Illyria , who looked somewhat confused.
"I've lived for so long, been party to so many massacres, that death should have no meaning for me. And yet…every time I close my eyes, I see Wesley in my arms. And when I do…I still wish to do more violence!" The blue-irised eyes flashed in vengeance.
"Glad you're on our side," Spike murmured.
All three then ran head long into the tide of demons.
Spike clung close to Illyria as Angel pulled so many moves that Spike thought he was putting the guy from 'The Matrix' to shame. It didn't matter, though. A decent brawl with their back against the wall was what Spike lived for; it was what he was destined for when he first became a vampire.
He sliced a head from one demon, skewered another and backhanded a third just as he looked over at Illyria .
The blue-tinged goddess was cutting whole swaths of demon fighters of every size and shape. With every death at her hands, she screamed Wesley's name. Spike had to grin at that.
Now I've heard it all, he thought. How often does a deity take a mortal's name in vain?
It started to rain again, and the alley ran with the blood of countless species. Spike didn't even bother to count the dead, because he knew the scales would tip soon enough. He hated regret, but a part of him wished that Buffy was at his side. At the thought of his former love, a scene came unbidden to his mind, right in the middle of this mother of all battles.
Gods, it felt like a lifetime ago! He and Buffy, sitting in the Bronze, talking about how he had killed two Slayers. He realized that it was that that encounter was the beginning of what eventually led to here:
"How many of my kind reckon you've done?" he'd asked.
She confidently raised her chin. "Not enough."
He smiled grimly and nodded. "Hmm…and we just keep coming. But you can kill a hundred, a thousand, a thousand-thousand…"
A scream came from close-by and he saw Illyria clutch her side, a sword sticking out of it. Bellowing, he ran forward and killed the one demon trying to finish the job, and another trying to go for her head. He helped her up and noticed blood running down chin.
"…and the armies of hell besides…"
The former deity clung weakly to him, still trying to fight, and it didn't take a genius to realize her time was up. Still she fought, supported by him, as he himself tried to fight with his sword. He looked around quickly but could see no sign of Angel.
"…and all we need is for one of us – just one – sooner or later, to have the thing we're all hoping for…"
A half circle of crazed demons rushed forward, too many to be killed and tackled the two to the ground. Spike tried to get up, but was held down. He looked over and saw Illyria similarly held down. Not that it mattered. Glassy eyes stared off into infinity, never to focus again.
"And that would be what?" she'd asked.
Spike looked up to see something grinning viciously, raising its sword above its head.
He'd slowly walked up to her and leaned over. Even then, still 'chipped', he detected a slight shiver in her as his breath tickled her ear. He remembered the smell of her perfume as he spoke in almost a lover's whisper:
"One…good…day."
The sword came down.
-FIN-