"Just Another Witch"
This is part 3 in the "Just Another Buffy Fanfiction" series.
Follows part 1, "Just Another Slayer", and part 2, "Just Another Watcher".
Spike was blinded by the sun. Shaking himself awake, he glanced at the morning light streaming in through the airplane window. This was a feeling he was getting used to again.
He glanced around the cabin. The other passengers were quietly sipping cups of water offered by the flight attendants. It had been a long night on the flight from London to New York. He had a stopover on his way to San Francisco.
Pulling a messenger bag from under the seat in front of him, he slowly arose, cracked his human joints, and then followed the other passengers out of the plane. These days, Spike was also getting used to queuing up and patiently following other humans through the drudgery of being part of a crowd. Once past Customs, Spike made his way through yet another security checkpoint and contemplated how many people he had killed, far more than any terrorist. With only a glance at his fake passport elegantly crafted with Watcher's Council money, he was waved through. After another barrier, the groggy group stared at the monitors in the terminal. And once again, Spike joined the crowd. His flight to San Francisco was not leaving for another few hours.
The other passengers made their way to their respective gates, leaving Spike alone in front of the bank of terminals. Everything was quiet in the early morning. Fast food workers cranked open the gates on their establishments. Other than the London flight passengers, the terminal was empty.
Fumbling for a pack of cigarettes, his gaze fixed downward onto the only remnant of his vampire wardrobe, his old combat boots, as he trudged to the exit for a smoke. There was a time when smoking section rules didn't apply to the former vampire.
It was cold in front of the terminal where Spike flipped his Zippo out. Pulling his collar up, he lit a cigarette alongside shivering porters who nodded to him in the small marked section at the curb. Spike pulled deeply on his cigarette, watched the cabs flash by and contemplated what he would do for the next few hours as the sun climbed into the sky over New York.
Willow had the answers. He was confident of that. But he didn't have the answers to the questions she would surely have. She was expecting him later today in San Francisco, but he wasn't sure how he would explain what had happened in London. He and Giles had entered a trance to travel to the underworld to find the vampires that had vanished from the earth's surface. Much had happened. Spike had fallen apart down there and had reverted to being a soulless vampire. People had died as a result of his time there.
Spike closed his eyes and tasted blood. Girl after girl had fallen from his arms into the pit of vampires below him. The slayers and wicca dropped, drained of their blood that had then pumped through his veins in a steady beat. It was like a darkened club where the music throbbed through his whole being. He had felt lost in the moment, the power, and the mindlessness. And it was all triggered by what he did to Buffy.
Cracking a stiff shoulder, he opened his eyes again as a cab pulled up to the curb.
Balls, he thought, I might as well visit my old haunts for the next couple hours I have here.
He tossed away his cigarette, reached for the handle, and shoved himself inside the taxi. "Central Park, mate."
The cabbie nodded and pulled away.
It had been years since Spike had been back here. Back in the '60s and '70s, he and Drusilla had knocked around the East Village, joining in the revelry of the hippies who were too stoned to notice that Drusilla was seducing them into her arms. The two vampires had fed deeply and enjoyed the high of the youth who offered them their love and necks freely. When the '70s came along, and those same youth became disillusioned, Spike enjoyed the nihilism. He haunted the rock clubs, and when punk came on the scene later in the decade, he fully reveled in the anger and power of the music. Sometimes leaving Drusilla behind, he stalked the rock clubs and developed a new style. He cut his hair short, found the peroxide the young ones were using to dye their hair, and stole clothes from his victims. He had immersed himself in the scene and had made the most of it, hunting the back alleys at night to find victims who were drawn to the handsome stranger with the British accent.
Occasionally, he encountered Nancy Spungen hanging around backstage. She was a foul thing, and he thought about drinking from her. But he stopped short. She was Sid's nasty muse, and Spike didn't want to interfere with the making of that lovely, awful music. Of course, it didn't matter in the end for those two.
These days, Spike had let the blond fade from his hair and had let it grow curly again. He thought about the predator he had been then as the cab crawled up from the Lower East Side of those days through Midtown toward Central Park where he had met one of his most important victims.
Paying the driver, he climbed out of the cab in front of Strawberry Fields. Not much had changed, it seemed to him. The only difference was that a cloud of frosty air now expelled from his lungs as he blew on his cold hands. He walked around the walls and park benches were he had first fought Nikki Wood.
He sat down on the park bench where Robin Wood had hid as a small child and watched the vampire fight his mother all those years ago. But he hadn't known that the child was there then.
He wasn't wearing her duster these days, now preferring the anonymity of his short black jean jacket. He thought about the punches he threw and her sharp wit. She had bested him that night here in the park, both in mind and body. He had enjoyed her power. Later, he had thrilled at feeling that power surge through him as he took her life. It was a thrill that was unmatched by the other slayer he had killed back in the Boxer Rebellion. None of his kills had been like anything that night on the New York subway.
That is, until he had drank from the slayers in the underworld. And, nothing was like drinking from Buffy and watching her soul fade away. Taking Buffy's power was an entirely different feeling.
He knew that he still had the ability to become a vampire. He was human, but now he knew there was a part of him that could revert to his old soulless ways at any time.
He needed Willow to help him figure out how that was. He wanted to stop the killing.
Sod it, Spike thought, dimming the movie playing on the seatback in front of him as the plane touched down in San Francisco. He wiped a tear away. Movies on planes always make me cry, dammit. The last scene of Iron Giant played on the screens around him. He tried to avoid seeing the big robot reassemble, the scene that usually got to him. God, I hope this isn't Buffybot residuals.
Once again, Spike queued up with the masses and shuffled his way to the curb where Willow awaited him. She was leaning against a familiar van.
"Nice paint job, Red."
"You like?"
The van was painted colorfully and accurately to replicate the Mystery Machine of the Scooby Doo series.
He shoved his one bag into the back, sat down in the passenger seat and lit a cigarette.
Willow wrinkled her nose and pulled away from the curb.
"We gotta stop that from happening again, Red."
Willow startled. "Wow, way to get right into it."
"You know I mean the dreams and not the nerd-mobile furnishings, right?" He glanced around at the upgrade on the décor. The inside matched the exterior color scheme with its turquoise and green bench seats. Spike winced.
"Let's get back to my place, and we'll figure it out."
"Can't wait."
"I know. A lot happened.
"I'm afraid to fall asleep."
"I know it, Spike. I can help."
"Plus—"
"- Look, Spike, you were a vampire there. Not here. You're human here. You can't be a vampire here. You can walk around in daylight, right? You don't shrivel up without blood? We can even poke you with some chopsticks to prove it. You're not going to kill me, or Kennedy, or the pizza guy, or the kittens. There's this cute one we just got, I wanted to name her Miss Kitty Fantastico Junior, but Kennedy pointed out that might traumatize Dawn next time she comes for a visit, you know, with the crossbow and all—"
"Willow!"
"I know." Willow slowed down.
She started again. "You're scared. You're just learning to be human again, and all of this was a backslide. Losing control and killing again…it has to be…I don't know."
"You don't understand, Willow." Spike shrugged and blew a cloud out of the window as they inched through the San Francisco traffic.
Willow thought for a moment, and spoke quietly. "Actually, I do know what it's like."
Spike looked at Willow's intent face staring at the red taillights ahead. Of course she does.
The pair was silent as they made their way back through the narrow streets. Once inside, Spike took a shower, polished off a few cigarettes, ate a few slices of pizza, poured himself a scotch, and sat down next to Willow on the couch.
"Really, Spike?" Willow nodded at the drink in his hand. "It's only noon."
"Willow," Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, "I agreed to be a human, not a wanker."
"But, yeah. So, what about cirrhosis? Lung cancer?"
For an answer, Spike guzzled the rest of his drink and shoved the rest of his cigarettes into his pants. He grimaced and stared right into her eyes as if to say, Alright then?
"Ok, Spike, here's the deal. This is what I have learned through my years as Dark Willow and Light Willow. I am both those people. Years ago, when I started reading Miss Calendar's magic books and trying things, Giles figured it out and warned me. He said once you start with the magics, you can't stop."
She paused, searching for her own metaphor. "I figure it's like this: Once you pull the cork, the wine keeps flowing. A glass after dinner, a couple more when you're bored or nervous, and so on, until one day when you need it to feel normal."
Spike thought about the early morning swims in Hawaii where he would push his limits. He couldn't believe he needed to come up for air so often. This human body couldn't possibly be this worthless and weak. He needed to be better. Not to atone - that was Captain Forehead's bag - but so that he could help. He couldn't sit on the sidelines and watch his friends - yes, dammit, they were his friends now - do everything. Margot had saved him in many near-drownings.
"Yeah, I get it, Red."
"No, you don't. That's why I'm going to show you." Willow took his hand. The former vampire was still pretty pale, but his hand looked dark in the red-headed witch's hand. Hers was glowing. He looked up into her eyes. A pale white force was emanating from Willow and slowly crawling up his arm.
"Don't worry, Spike. We have this under control."
Spike noted the word we.
He felt a warmth spread across him, and the room began to disappear. It was as if someone had pointed a flashlight into his eyes. He couldn't see anything beyond the strong source of light that was Willow.
When the light dimmed, they were in a different place. They were in an alleyway, watching a dark-haired woman stalk a fidgeting young man with light-brown curly hair. The two argued and then stilled.
Spike turned to Willow beside him. Her glowing had subsided, and she stood watching the scene. "Willow, I don't want to see this."
"Just watch." She gently suggested.
Spike watched the woman feed from his human self. The young man was in pain but wasn't fighting it. The Spike in the scene slowly crumbled to the ground, but there was an expression of sweet pleasure on his face as he blankly stared up into the demon's neck where Drusilla offered herself to him.
No one had ever done that before, Spike thought as he watched the pair.
"Magic can pull you apart, Spike. This is when it happened for you." Willow explained.
Spike watched the ecstasy pass between the monster and the man.
The scene dimmed.
"This is what Giles warned me about. Once you open the door to magic, you can't close the door. You can't unopen the door. You can't make a deal with the door. You can't beg for mercy from the door. You can't make friends with the door. You can't go to therapy to make peace with the door. There's no couples' counseling for you and your demon, Spike."
The two were standing in a dark void.
"And yet, you are human now. But, it's only in the overworld that you cannot be a vampire. Down here, you can be either. And magic pulls you apart when you communicate with the spirit world. That's what you did with Giles, communicate with the spirit world. You saw Drusilla, all the vampires, and Buffy."
"Except for Angel." Spike offered.
"What?" Willow was distracted from her glowiness.
"Angel's the last vampire. We didn't see him." Spike muttered.
"Right. Okay. All of the vampires, except for Angel." Willow rolled her eyes.
Willow began to glow white again and when she dimmed, they stood beside the Trevi Fountain in Rome. The street lights burned in the sultry evening.
A man in slicked-back black hair waltzed with a woman in a beret in the fountain.
"God, Drusilla and I had fun those days. Did you know we're in 'La Dolce Vita'? All those lovelies in the streets at night. We had to be a part of it."
"Focus, Spike."
"Right."
The pair in the fountain stalked another couple dancing slowly together, attracted to the passion between them.
Drusilla started to move her hand that had held so many victims in thrall, but Spike quietly shook his head and took her hand in his as he moved toward the woman. The pair shyly smiled at Drusilla and Spike. Spike took the woman into his arms and danced with her, as Drusilla coyly embraced the man.
"Do you know what's happening, Spike?"
"I don't know, but this was a great night." Spike was raptly watching the scene.
"This is when you first used your humanity to feed the beast."
He glanced at Willow, frowning.
"You used to let Drusilla trick your victims, or you used your brute strength, but this was the first victim who came to you willingly."
The woman was laughing as the Spike in the scene said something clever in her ear and spun her around.
"You were a smart man when you were human. Well-read. No one could see it. Now you were using those smarts to charm a woman."
The Spike beside Willow sighed.
"You needed to see this. If we're going back into the underground, you need to be aware of where the line lies between the demon and the man. It's not just when you feed and get all lumpy that you are a vampire."
The scene dimmed as the Spike in the scene kissed the woman and gently sank his fangs into her.
Back in the black void, Willow explained. "You need to know your demon as a man. In your case, you're communicating with the demon that shared your body for a century. You have to decide which side of you is in charge. Most people live in the overworld, for lack of a better word. They're human. Why wouldn't they think they're good? They have no idea about the little things they do every day that feeds the underworld. A selfish act here and there feeds that place."
Willow brightened then dimmed. They were looking down on the scene of Spike unconscious on an operating table, his hair blond. The doctors were opening his head and placing a microchip into his skull.
"It's the banality of evil. Even the man who sets the train schedules has a part to play."
The scene dimmed again, and before they could go back to the dark void to regroup, they were looking down on the scene of Spike feeding from Buffy in the cavern of vampires. Drusilla peered over Spike's shoulder watching Buffy fade away, gleefully clapping her hands.
"Drusilla used your love for Buffy. Your love was a good thing. She did that to suck you back into the underworld and commit terrible acts."
Then the scene flashed through slayer after slayer, wicca after wicca, drained and tossed from Spike's hands as dust into the thirsty vampire horde below.
"And she used my desire to feel slayer power, too." Spike muttered.
"Yes," Willow said, "She did. I don't know if the wicca and slayers you fed from are dead, or if you only released their souls, like Buffy. But before they came here, they weren't dead like Buffy, and I think we can get them back."
Spike couldn't tear his eyes away from the looping madness of the killing scenes. Over and again, they played. Over and again, he watched himself drink deeply and then maniacally laugh.
Willow turned to Spike. "First, you have to show me where you started."
Slowly, he turned his eyes back to her. "There was a tunnel and a cave."
"Ok. Show me." Willow held out her hand.
The scene turned white and dimmed. They were now in the cave where Giles first brought Spike. This time, shadows danced across the walls, the same shadows Giles had described to Spike from Giles' earlier visits.
Willow turned in a circle and watched the scenes play out on the walls. "I know this place."
"I don't remember the shadows."
"They're Giles'. They're something he made. Don't you see what this is, Spike?"
"What?"
"It's Plato's Cave."
Spike tried to remember back to his Cambridge days as a human, but they were so long ago.
"It would make sense that Giles would try to make sense of this world by first constructing Plato's Cave as a gateway."
The walls were dancing with the scene of vampires dancing around a bonfire.
"Plato's Cave was an allegory used to explain the falseness of the senses over reason."
Spike's eyes locked on the figure of one vampire dancing slowly to her own beat in a long gown.
"Giles would want to steel himself on some unconscious level against the magic by using reason as a defense against the sensual." Willow explained.
"Yeah, but he was Ripper when he came here."
"Not at first, though." Willow paused, thinking of the pain Giles had experienced. "Drusilla was using her ability to thrall Giles as Jenny."
Spike remembered the kiss that Jenny and Giles had shared here. "Then the senses took over."
"We can't bring Giles back here." Willow said. "Ripper is too close to the surface and always will be."
"You can't take Giles through the same magical mystery tour of memory that you treated me to?" Spike was impatient. "I mean, the man needs perspective."
"No. Giles, in his infinite Britishness, finds it all too maudlin."
"Yeah, Margot told me Minnesotans are like that." Spike added. "But, back to Giles. It's like he's doomed to repeat his mistakes."
"Pretty ironic for someone obsessed with history, right?"
Willow paused. Behind her, the scene of shadows on the wall showed a young man putting a guitar into a case and pulling on a tweed suit.
"Very symbolic, Red."
"I know. Do you like it?" Willow smiled. "But, seriously, Giles uses his intelligence as a weapon. He needed to play the part of the watcher to the fullest when he gave up his Ripper days. He was afraid of the darkness. And he had a right to be. I had my problems with it, too. But as much as magic can pull you apart, it can help you pull yourself out of the darkness, too."
Behind her the shadows showed a scene of Drusilla feeding from Giles upon her throne above the vampire throng, a princess of darkness taking the power away from the last watcher. Or so she thought. Willow had blurred out whatever Spike was doing in the scene so that the Spike beside her could focus on Giles. At first, Giles went limp in Drusilla's arms, giving over to the pain, then the sensuality of Drusilla's bite. Spike saw Giles' eyes flutter open in awareness, a twinge of Giles' brow betraying the thoughts moving through the man at that moment.
"Giles can never come back and try that again on Drusilla. She knows his tricks now." Willow explained.
"He decided to bring us back through Drusilla's powers." Spike's voice betrayed a hint of awe for his former adversary.
The scene dimmed. They were back in Giles' cave.
"Yeah, he did. And I'm not too worried about getting stuck here since you managed to get out of here before. Giles and Margot showed you how." Willow paused and then continued. "Now, I'm going to show you how to keep track of the darkness."
Behind her, the shadows flared up. Spike watched a scene slowly unfold of a man in a long coat picking daisies in the moonlight. The man in the scene paused, wiped one eye, and then resumed gathering flowers into his arms. He was alone in the forest. He sat down on a tree stump, glanced up into the full moon and gathered himself. There was something he had to do that was hard for him.
"Joyce." The Spike beside her spoke the one word softly.
Willow gave him a half-smile. "You didn't have a soul then, Spike, and yet, you cared about this woman's death. This was the first death you cared about in over a century."
The two were silent as they watched the scene.
Beside him, he felt Willow fidget.
"I know you weren't there, but you know what I did, Spike, when I lost control."
Spike turned to her.
Behind Willow, the shadows fired up. Scene after scene of Willow's life sped past. Spike was dizzy staring at them.
"Are you paying attention?" Willow's voice was suddenly urgent. "You might need to do this on your own at some point."
"What?" Spike was startled and confused.
Willow's voice dropped. "Nevermind."
Then the shadows dwindled. Spike took two steps back as the shadows rushed across the cave's floor toward them and then danced up Willow's legs. He glanced up into her eyes.
She stared back into his as the shadows rushed up her body toward her face. Her eyes then turned black.
"Willow—" Spike was alarmed.
"Wait." Willow smiled.
The shadows raced through her hair. He noticed that her lower half was no longer dark. Willow's hair whipped back as the shadows left her body and then stopped just behind her and settled into the shape of a black cape.
"Jesus, Willow, if you wanted to be a superhero, you finally got your wish. First, you have the ability to visit the underworld without any kind of help." Spike thought back on the opium he and Giles had used to visit this place. "Now you're reading our memories and, uh, this." He gestured to the shadows behind her.
"Yeah, but I needed your help to get to this cave." Willow's eyes were her normal color again, but her gaze was strangely serene. Spike shuddered.
"I've been working on some things." She said simply.
"I'll say." Spike's voice raised an octave in alarm. "Willow, this can't be good. We should get you a wicca, or a watcher, or –"
"Spike, I'm fine." Her voice soothed him. "Just watch."
Again, he watched the glowing white light emanate from her core and spread throughout her body. Then slowly, it crawled up her body, and much like the shadow, it raced through her hair and shot out. It engulfed the shadow. The glow then settled behind her like a white cape.
Willow grinned and spun around, like a girl showing off a new dress.
Spike snorted. It was so absurd.
Willow laughed. "See, Spike, I told you."
"Okay." Spike was hesitant.
"Spike, you have this, too. Think back. Was there a time when you were human and contemplating whether to be a vampire again?"
Spike remembered the moment of indecision before drinking from Buffy. Drusilla had used some choice words to egg him on.
"Yeah, I remember."
"Now, remember a time when you were a vampire, and you were contemplating whether you could ever be human again."
Spike closed his eyes. The daisies for Joyce.
"Yeah, I get it, Red."
"Turn around, Spike."
A lean but powerful two-headed dog stood behind him. It was a cross between a bulldog and a Great Dane, and both sets of eyes were on his. A low growl emanated from the flattened squat head. The other head with its long floppy ears perched forward held a sloppy, doggy smile that eagerly awaited his affection.
"Cerberus."
Willow smiled, pleased with herself. "Now you have both halves in a handy package for you to enjoy, and call upon whenever you need it."
"Yeah. Now what?"
"I think they need names."
"Well, clearly the ugly one is Cujo." Spike's answer was definitive.
He paused and stared at the other head. The dog drooled with excitement, a puppyish bark ready to emerge from the face. This isn't me. What am I going to do with him?
"If I may suggest, Spike?" Willow stood on her tiptoes, grinning, and put her fingertips together in delight.
"What?"
"I think he should be called—"
"No! Not Scooby."
The dog barked joyfully, and Willow leaned against the cave wall, holding her side in laughter.
Spike stared up into the cave's ceiling, resigned.
"Okay." Between puffs of laughter, Willow managed to say, "We have things to do."
Willow began walking down the tunnel, her white cape dancing behind her.
Spike paused, and then gestured at the beast to get a move-on. It was weird seeing a dog shift between capering playfully and shuffling resentfully, but that's exactly what Spike's spirit animal did.
Spike considered it a sign of his growth that he didn't complain too much as they made their way to the main cave.
"So, you have questions?" Willow asked along the way.
"Yeah, so how do you know all this about me and Giles?"
"Well, I know what Giles has been up to because of all those debriefs after Africa. I don't know. Something was off."
"Yeah, Margot picked up on that."
"Do you remember that hitchhiker that came with Buffy when she came back from the dead? Back in Sunnydale?"
Spike startled as he looked into her eyes. "Yeah, and I said magic always has consequences. Does no one listen to me?"
Willow ignored him. "So, I just, well, I conjured it and sent it to Giles. He didn't know. But I needed to know if he was turning dangerous. He doesn't know what I know. I mean, what he's capable of. I watched you and Giles come here. I saw what happened."
Spike's face crumpled in shock.
"I know, I know. But I couldn't do anything. The hitchhiker was only like a crystal ball. I could only just watch. But, look, Spike, it gave me time. While you were sorting yourselves out," she gestured fussily at Spike, "I shored up our defenses in the overworld."
Spike reeled further at her military terminology. What is going on with her?
"I needed to keep as many slayers out of here as possible. First, I taught Kennedy lucid dreaming. Do you know what that is?"
Spike just stared at her. Something in the '60s … Balls, it's all a blur.
"It's a way to take control of your dreams. If Kennedy ended up here with the other slayers, I needed her to wake up and save herself. You understand?"
Spike's reply was slow. "Sure…?"
"Then I worked on Faith. It took a while. That girl is powerful, but she is stubborn. After I hung up with you, Margot and Giles, I worked on Margot." Willow smiled. "She's an interesting character. She has stuff going on, but she's a quick study."
Spike smiled. He was grateful for Willow's help and a little hesitant at her growing abilities.
"I needed to do that to make sure we had some time to sort this stuff out and find the missing wicca and slayers. And we can't afford to lose anymore allies."
Spike gave an impatient head gesture, urging on the beast behind him, before remembering the most troubling part. "But, Willow, how did you get into our memories—"
The glowing at the tunnel's end suddenly brightened as they turned a corner and found the entry into the main cave.
"Shhh! Later." Willow silenced him.
Suddenly, a ghoulish white face emerged from the shadows and seized Willow by the neck. Willow flicked her wrist, and the Master's head snapped off like a twig.
Spike looked up at Willow in alarm.
"Let's just get that out of the way, shall we?" Willow smirked as she fanned the dust of the disappearing vampire away from her and allowed her body to float down to the ground.
"Um, yeah, works for me." Spike replied, a little in awe. What has she been up to since Africa?
Willow turned and confidently strode into the main cavern. Spike followed cautiously, making sure his beast was close behind.
The scene was familiar. The vampires were dancing around the bonfire, and a new batch of wicca was tied listlessly to the center stake.
"Look, this metaphor is getting tired," Willow announced to the crowd. "We get it. It's a little Jesus-y. Plus, girls enslaved by a phallic, wooden object. So tired of it," she added in a bored tone.
From her throne above, Drusilla's head whipped around.
While Willow dusted the stake and gently lowered the unconscious wicca to the ground, Drusilla approached. She only had eyes for Willow.
"Naughty!" She gestured with two crossed fingers at Willow. "You'll spoil supper. Spare the rod and spoil the girls."
Willow rolled her eyes. "Gross."
Drusilla smiled maniacally. "You're one of them. So delicious with the magics."
She danced around Willow, tracing one fingertip around her collarbone.
Willow shrugged it off.
"Five and twenty blackbirds all in a pie…" Drusilla's smile met Willow's eyes. "What's one more?"
Willow's eyes suddenly flooded with black.
Drusilla's eyes flashed in glee.
Willow whirled and threw her white amorphous cape at Drusilla, who was then held still by the magic. She whimpered.
Spike watched cautiously from the wall.
Then, Willow's hair turned black.
Spike watched the black drift from her hair and down her arms toward Drusilla.
"—Wait." He said. Beside him, Scooby glanced up and raised one ear quizzically. Cujo growled.
Drusilla now noticed him. "Spike…" She pleaded.
"Willow, there has to be something we can do with her."
"What, Spike?" Willow was impatient. Her fingertips trembled at the effort of holding Drusilla up in the air and holding her two capes in balance.
Spike glanced at Drusilla. No matter what, he couldn't watch her suffer. Spike felt a shift in his brows and teeth. Beside him, Cujo snarled. Scooby glanced at Cujo, and then whimpered.
"My sweet William, help me." Drusilla pleaded, and then her tone shifted. "I'll share the nasty witches with you." Her eyes glanced at the pile of wicca. "I've been gathering them since you left me. I've been saving them for you."
Willow's eyes softened. I've been so busy protecting the remaining slayers, I haven't had a chance to find the rest of the world's wicca. Her eyes darkened as she shrugged. It was just an oversight.
"I know that you wouldn't want them to suffer." Drusilla whispered to Spike. "If I drink from them, you know I'll enjoy it far too much. I never had your soft touch. They'd go all quiet-like with you, love."
"Wrong answer, ducks." Spike's vampire face faded. "I'm not playing that game anymore." Beside him, the dogs settled.
Drusilla's eyes settled on Cerberus. "I didn't see that coming."
"Yeah, what can I say?" Spike shrugged. "Once a dog, always a dog."
Drusilla considered the dogs.
Spike continued, feeling more confident that he wasn't about to turn evil, and his swagger reemerged. "And maybe this isn't Hades or any other normal notions of hell, but this is who I am!" He gestured broadly at the slumbering dogs, and then started to saunter toward her. "Maybe you thought I'd be your dog, eh?" He snickered, pleased at his ability to slip a Stooges reference into his rant.
"Enough, Spike—" Shaking off her moment of thought, Willow suddenly spun Drusilla in a pillar of white light.
Spike stopped. "Wait, Willow."
"Make up your mind, Spike." Willow's eyes were turning perilously black. And yet, she slowed the spinning form.
When it came to a halt, it wasn't Drusilla anymore.
It was Tara held up in the air by her neck, Willow's glowing white cape entwined around her throat.
"Please, Willow", Tara begged, "You have to give this up." Her eyes gestured to the glowing white.
Willow paused, her black eyes softening to a gray, and then she shook her head angrily.
"I'm not here for Tara, Drusilla."
Drusilla cackled in glee as she snapped back into her form.
Willow's white cape flashed, and a wave of black billowed out of Willow's chest.
Watching her struggle, Spike whispered, "Willow?"
But Willow ignored him.
"Willow? Can't we just put her in the center of the fire until we figure this out? Look, I'll get the wicca out." Spike crept to the fire and pointed. The vampires skirted away at one dirty look from Cujo.
The fire parted as Spike gently led the wicca out of the fire and to the outer wall where they crumpled gratefully to the ground. The whole time Willow watched Spike warily.
Once she saw the wicca resting, she walked toward the fire with Drusilla dangling ahead of her. The fire parted again, and Drusilla's body drifted toward the center. Spike and Cerberus soberly followed her and watched her body lower to the ground. The fire encircled them. Spike studied Drusilla as she gathered herself on the ground. I deserve to be here with her for what I've done.
Spike looked back at Willow whose attention was turned to the vampires.
Frowning, he turned back to Drusilla, whose face was being lapped by Scooby. She laughed gleefully. "I knew you'd come back to me, my sweet William."
Spike watched as Cujo suddenly lunged for her. She cowered and then smirked sinisterly.
Figures she would like both of them.
From the other side of the fire, Willow was speaking to the vampire horde. Their expressions were mixed. Some feared her, some thirsted for her, but all were listening.
Once rid of Drusilla, Willow had softened. Her white cape floated behind her. She addressed the crowd. "Look, last time we saw each other, you wanted peace. What was that? Do you still want it? 'Cuz I can do it."
The vampires looked at one another, shrugging indifferently.
"Okay, I get it. That didn't work out so good. But, hey, tell me what you want. I have things to do, but first I have to get through this circle of hell."
One vampire approached. "Uh, Willow?"
Willow peered at the vampire. Recognition dawned. "Jessie? Is that you?"
The vampire grinned. "Wow, Willow, I can't believe it's you. You've come a long way since your corduroy dress days." The vampire appraised the redhead's figure and licked his fangs.
Willow scoffed. "Take it easy, buddy. You're not my type. Plus, uh, we kinda forgot about you."
The vampire frowned, embarrassed. "Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that peace business was just a ruse to get Spike down to Africa." He leaned his head back toward the fire. "That was Drusilla's brilliant idea."
"Oh, yeah, right. She said that already." Willow thought back to her memories of Spike's last visit here. "Okay, then, what do you guys want?"
The vampire ducked his head. "Well, you know…"
"What, a river of blood? More girls? I'm not doing that."
He wagged his eyebrows. "C'mon, you know."
"What?" Then it dawned on Willow. "Power. That's what everyone always wants." She considered it. Leave it to a vampire stuck in an adolescent boy's body to break it down to the most basic urge.
"Okay, here goes." She turned to the fire, black shadow streaking from her fingertips. The flames rose up high into the air.
Her eyes were black when she turned back to the quaking boy vampire. "Cool, huh?" She grinned.
His reply was weak. "Yeah. Sure. Um … you go girl?"
"Jeez, stuck in the '90s, much?" Willow taunted.
The vampire horde cowered as the flames rose higher and grew hotter.
"Kinda thought I was a nerd, then, huh?" She asked the vampire.
He only nodded.
Then suddenly, the flames spread out and engulfed the vampires, carefully, one-by-one. Willow's black eyes danced as she watched each vampire dust in a separate punctuated, strategic strike, starting with Jessie's shriek.
Spike watched the scene unfold. Willow is enjoying this too much. And we don't have time for this. There are too many vampires to slowly torture, one at a time.
"Spike…" Drusilla was cuddled up to the dogs, idly rubbing Cujo's belly. "Why can't we be a family again? You could be my Hades. I could be your Persephone." She held one hand out.
He looked down into her hand and saw three drops of blood glistening in her palm.
For an answer, Spike stood up to gain Willow's attention. Peering over the flames, he called softly to her. "Willow…"
Willow's eyes turned gray briefly as she flicked them in his direction.
"This isn't good for you." Spike pleaded with her.
Her eyes flashed black in anger.
Spike turned back to the dogs. With a nod from him, Cerberus was back on his feet. Drusilla's hands reached for the dog, but Spike snapped a leash that came from seemingly nowhere onto Cujo's neck. With one last sloppy kiss between Scooby and Drusilla, the man and his dog were on the move.
He marched through the fire toward Willow.
Willow continued her fiery spree, dusting one vampire after another. Millions of vampires fled along the walls, trying to skip out of her grip. None of them could leave the cave, and it was only a matter of time before every one of them was dusted.
"Willow, you can't do all of this alone. Maybe we should get Giles."
She snarled at him. "I don't know why you care. The vampires are already dead. Remember? We did that. Now, I'm only setting their souls free. Their souls will reunite with their humanity. With any luck, I might be able to follow them to the missing slayers and wicca."
"Ok, but, Willow…"
"Don't worry. We'll leave Buffy in peace."
Spike winced and glanced back at Drusilla. He considered what it would be like for Drusilla to be reunited with her soul.
"Willow, I know they deserve this." He flashed to a memory of being tortured in the basement of Sunnydale High. "But, you don't understand what the guilt is like." He glanced at the vampire horde. "I don't honestly care what happens to this lot. But, Drusilla. She doesn't have the sanity to handle facing what she's done."
Willow's eyes softened to gray, but she continued to pluck the vampires out of the crowd and dust them.
Spike watched the scene. "Maybe I deserve this, too."
But Willow wasn't listening, laughing madly with delight, and intent on chasing the terrified vampires.
"Maybe if I'm here long enough, I can be queen of the underworld!" She grinned. In the distance, Drusilla keened with laughter.
Spike couldn't tell if Willow was joking.
"What about the slayers and the other wicca?"
"I'll get to them. Eventually."
Spike lowered his head. Cerberus sat on his haunches beside him.
"Willow, I think we need to go back. It's too much."
"No, Spike, you need to go back. This is the work I do."
"No, Willow," Spike pleaded with her, "The girls, they're lost because of me."
"Look, I can do this. Weren't you were wondering where all the magic went?" Willow twirled a vampire in a pillar of dust, relishing it.
"Me? No. That was Giles." Spike backed away. "I was happy with no more magic. Remember me? I'm the guy that says there are always consequences when you mess with magic? Remember?"
Willow ignored him and continued. "Well, tell Giles here it is. I have it. When we poofed the vampires, I took on the magic. I spent weeks searching it out. With my big old brain."
Spike took another step back and stumbled over his beast.
Willow glanced toward Drusilla, who was dancing a solitary waltz in the middle of the fire. "Well, I have most of it."
Shaking off the thought, she turned to Spike, and her eyes softened again to gray. "Look, Spike, I only needed you to lead me here."
Spike was stunned. This is what she intended to do all along.
"We havethis under control."
"Every time you said we, you didn't mean you and me, did you?" Spike gestured between them.
Willow had an eerie smile. "Nope." With a flourish, her black and white capes flared behind her.
Spike felt terrible for what was happening to her.
"You can leave. Giles and Margot showed you how. Plus, you don't have to be here. You're human now." She paused. "I opened the door, Spike, and now I'm here. You, you're still changing."
Spike was stunned.
She glanced down at the dogs, cowering behind Spike. "Let Scooby lead the way."
Spike glanced back toward Drusilla. Maybe I deserve to be in the ring of fire. His eyes traveled back down to the dogs, tilting his head in contemplation.
Spike suddenly awoke on the couch in Willow's apartment. Kennedy was perched over Willow's still body on the floor, trying to wake her.
Spike sat up and pushed aside a groggy black and white kitten asleep at his side. His voice croaked at Kennedy's back. "It's no use, Big Bad, she doesn't want to come back yet."
Kennedy spun around. "Where is she?"
"She's gone underground." Spike stood up, stretched, and thought about what to do next.
She watched him gather his things.
"Stay with her." Spike pulled a smoke from his jacket.
"And the slayers?"
"She's working on it. Trust me, she'll be back."
"Where are you going?"
"To find the only person who's ever brought Willow back from the edge." He said as he opened the door. "Metaphorical or otherwise."
This will be followed up with part 4, "Just Another Sidekick."