Chapter 3
Disjointed chords echoed throughout the Bronze from the new band that was trialing there. Of all the things of the hellmouth Buffy had to deal with, reincarnated dying cats wasn't in the job description. She, Willow and Xander had gathered together at the Bronze to release a little bad-vibes-ahoy tension. Any hope of relaxation ceased with the arrival of Spike.
"Why the low looks?" Spike started, strolling up to their table. "No vampire arse for you to kick, not giving you a happy?"
Xander looked at him with disdain. "One look in the mirror will show you exactly a worthy cause for depression." Then realising the error of his statement, he corrected himself. "Oh, right. Vampire. Mirrors. Nothing. Got it."
"Spike, what do you want now? If it was just to ruin our evening, you can leave now, knowing that was fully accomplished." Buffy bitingly said to Spike, wishing the mechanically tamed vamp would just go away.
"What's wrong, the Tooth Fairy turn out to be a little more Tooth than Fairy, destroying all your lovely childhood fantasies?" Spike prodded.
"Spike." Buffy threatened.
"Fine, have it your own way," Spike responded, draining his cup and throwing it away, "can't take a little innocent chat, well it's not my problem."
Gathering his dignity, he walked away, his signature black trenchcoat in sharp contrast with his bleached white hair, which several years ago, bore him some resemblance to Billy Idol. Round about the time he killed his second slayer, before he had his taming chip put in his head.
"Have you found anything about the new girls, Will?" Xander asked.
"I didn't have time this afternoon, with all my trig homework, so I thought I'd do some evil-hunting during my free period tomorrow, just before lunch." Willow swirled her straw around her glass of iced water. "Maybe Giles has something already."
Buffy nodded. "We better get onto things quick, before the un-undead become an endangered species."
"Un-undead?" Queried Xander. "Well, we would have a quiet world during the day."
A lull in their conversation made it easier to hear those around them.
"Where did Sandra go?" someone said behind them.
"Outside. She's with some guy," came the reply.
"Some guy? She ditched us for 'some guy'? He better be Hollywood incarnate."
"Well, I didn't get a good look at him, but from what I saw, he had a really bad skin condition, and really, really bad teeth."
It was all the hints Buffy needed. She bolted from her chair, heading outside. As she neared the door, she heard the scream. Bursting through the doors, she looked up and down the street. There was no one there. She ran around the corner of the Bronze, into an alley. The vampire was hunched over a girl, whom Buffy assumed was Sandra.
"Hey!" she yelled, and charged him.
The vampire stood, and threw Buffy against the wall after she crunched his nose. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and Buffy saw it was too late for Sandra.
"It's all coming," the vampire said, lustfully.
Buffy slammed him back, and whipping a stake from her jacket and holding it to his chest, she questioned him.
"What's coming? You figured out what the mistakes were in your last plan, and want to try again to open the hellmouth? This is where you're meant to get all scary and hail the end of the world, remember?"
"She's coming. We can grow in number as she gives us strength." The vampire looked strangely confident.
"Oh, yeah?" Buffy retorted. "What strength? Strength to die with dignity? Well, as long as you die."
The vampire smiled. "No. Strength to do this."
He threw her from him with surprising vigour. She looked at him in shock as she struggled to get up. As he came toward her, she aimed a high kick at his face. In a startling reaction, he grasped her ankle, and heaved her to the ground. She stood, breathing heavily, unsure how to beat this opponent with such unusual strength.
Then she felt it. Like something was flowing through her, something that wasn't supposed to be there. She flew at the vampire, kicking at his face and kidneys, with extra strength. The vampire was stunned at her retaliation. His gaze rested over her shoulder, and registered understanding. Without a second look, he ran the other way.
Confused, Buffy turned to see what had caught his attention, and saw a flash of light hair.
"Hey, man with the answers!" Buffy barked out as she strode into the library, scoobies in tow.
Giles emerged from his office with a curious look on his face – and yet another cup of tea.
"What is it that has you in a flurry this morning?" he inquired.
"What have we found out about those two…things?! The other one, Desupra, is of the bad. Well, the unusual. Which is usually bad. She just seemed to be on my side this time."
"Well," Giles concluded. "We weren't able to find much. I have looked in all my volumes with outlines of all demons known, and was unable to uncover anything."
"How does that constitute 'much'?" Buffy retorted. "I'd say we haven't found out anything."
"Well, not exactly." Giles responded. "An absence of explanation in my volumes would imply one of three things. They're either older than the written word, so they were around before man was able to record the happenings, or they're new, so they haven't already been discovered…"
He paused to raise his cup to his mouth and take a sip of tea.
"Or…" prompted Buffy.
"Or they're not demons."
Spike sat in his crypt, staring mundanely into the distance as he took a gulp of wine – one of the finer pleasures of taking out a guy who kept a bottlestore. One of the very few pleasures left to choose from, with the Slayer deeming The Bronze her private Spike-free lair.
Spike raised the bottle to his cold lips again, and was startled as the door to the crypt came crashing open – he almost choked on the beverage in his mouth. He rapidly stood with the speed of the vampire he was – speed not hindered by the taming mechanical chip in his head, a fact of much shame to the bleached-haired vamp, and exploited extensively by the Slayer.
"And you are…?" Spike asked of the person who had just burst in. "Aside from very rude. That I can see already."
His visitor smiled. "So you're the one they call Spike," she concluded with a wry smile.
"Yeah, and what difference does it make to you? And answer my first question."
"I'm Däkkah." She dumped the backpack she'd been carrying and looked at him darkly from under her long lashes.
"Däkkah? As in, friend of Mickey-Mousah?"
When Däkkah didn't respond, Spike added, "What do you want?"
"You have a reputation you know – not like any vampire. I just wanted to see who I had in my area, and I heard you were an interesting addition."
Spike didn't like this conversation, which was heading dangerously close to damaging his manly pride by mention of the chip, and his inability to fulfil the purpose of a vampire.
"Well, nice to have met you, and since you obviously don't intend on giving me any more information about who the hell you are, I hope you enjoy your bloody tiki-tour, and now get out," he said, pointing to the door.
Däkkah rose, and headed to the exit. A pondering expression crossed her face, and she turned to him.
"Come with me."
Spike was incredulous. "Look, I don't know what you've heard about us creatures of the darkness, but we're called that for a reason. We don't get on well with the nice shiny sun beaming down in a nice shiny fatal way!"
Däkkah's friendly look left, and was replaced with determination. She stepped away from the door, and marched right up to Spike.
"Now you look, I didn't come here to find out if you knew how to hold your own. I came here because I already knew that." What looked like a crackle of lightening crossed her eyes, displaying her anger at his patronising attitude. Spike stepped backward, startled.
Däkkah relaxed a little then smiled to herself. "Alright." She strolled to a chair and sat down, motioning Spike to do the same – an action that was resented by Spike as is was his home, but until he knew what this eye-flashing-thing was, he didn't want to make it angry.
"I have an idea," Däkkah continued. "And you're going to go with it. I'm going to tell you what you want to know about me…" She leaned forward. "…And then you're going to come with me."
