6

There she was, standing in his doorway. He always had that fleeting hope, that she was there because she wanted to be there. That she had made some sort of choice, finally, but as it so often was, she was here because she wanted something. For him to help her in her never-ending quest. Spike, the little go-to puppy. She had his loyalty, his devotion, and she pulled no punches in utilizing it. He'd finally come to that conclusion, that that was all he was getting from her. It had hit him hard, when he finally learned that and left. That had only been a couple months ago, and his distance from her didn't make it any easier seeing her now. He didn't know what to feel. Happiness, anger, relief, confusion, he felt it all. He blamed her for a lot of things, for his unhappiness, so much it had been twisting him up inside. He was her 'champion', something noble, but he had wanted more from her. Still did. And she hadn't felt the same way, or least she went all Buffy about it,

After he had died, came back as a ghost, and stuck in Los Angeles, all he had wanted was to see her again. He thought maybe if he could, they could finally have something. A real something, more than just sex, just friendship and just mocking jibes. But when he did find her, she was in the middle of some fight—like she always was. He remembered her telling him that she had known he was alive for a quite some time, but had been too busy to see him before then. He remembered shrugging it off, the ever-hopeful puppy, willing to be her effervescent slave, just for a spot of her attention. It was crushing him, his devotion, longing for every light touch she gave him, reading into every lingering glance. He was always hoping, thinking that it might change, that she might realise how she felt about him. He had told her how he felt all the time. He had always been open. But she had only told him once, before he was about to die. And any hope he had that maybe they could just take it where they left off was sadly adjourned. There was always some crisis, some excuse that they couldn't be together. Finally, it had been enough. It was messing up Spike inside, and so he had left. In all reality, Buffy had left first, to whatever fight called her, and so he had slipped out of the din. Found himself in little Haven, where some obscurity was nice, and he could avoid the merry band of Slayers, who had sprung up all over the place, like bunnies.

And here, where he expected to meet one the least, there she was. He supposed Haven was a ripe-town for demon hunters, seeing as there were so many, and someone who killed vampires could have a splendid old time. But in the time he had been here, he hadn't heard a whisper about her, which didn't seem to go with the normal drama queen slayer persona. Her desire to hunt down the people who stole the children had reverted back to the normal expected martyr-dom, and that lingering wish for death he could almost just smell on her. Definitely fit the slayer bill. He doubted her solo act would stand long after she was introduced to the Slayerettes. Something about the big fights and dangers that was so damn euphoric to the woman gladiators, as soon as she got a taste she'd pack up shop out of mystic little Haven and join the fight. Slayers liked the fight better than they liked being alone. It was the only way it made sense, that Buffy and her little friends had made up their network of Slayers, despite them all being lone wolf narcissists. Offer them something to punch and they went wild. And here before him, she was the genuine article.

She stood a few inches above five feet—not unlike Jade, he had grudgingly observed—but with blonde hair, that beautiful goldilocks hair he had crushed between his fingers more than once. He could still remember the feel, the silky caress of it. And those eyes, those large eyes sparkling and green, that had the power of making him feel a whole lot of things. Mostly shame, she had a flair for harsh scrutiny. And that half smile, playing on her lips, and the power that radiated through her small, very hot body. They could have been quite a team, if she wanted to be. But that'd be too easy, wouldn't it. Love was endlessly frustrating. Not to mention torment, and he found looking at her that he hadn't been quite ready to experience it so soon. Maybe after a couple more decades or so, that'd do him.

"Honey, I'm home." She smiled that cloying smile, no pain or remorse or anything remotely similar to the agony he was feeling, just seeing her again. Damn, it just wasn't fair. Love's bitch indeed, he was all squeamish like a little lovesick puppy, and if he did have breath, well she'd take it away. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" She asked innocently after a heartbeat of silence.

"Last I remember, you didn't need one," He spoke, after he regained his voice, his lips lightly pursed and eyebrows raised. She flounced around him then, her shoulder brushing his as she stepped through the doorway. "Just being polite," she said in a saccharine tone, reveling in her bubbly, teasing personality that she visited less and less as the years had gone by, before she had turned into Mama General of the slayer soldiers. Any second now, it'd melt away and she'd be all business, tugging on Spike's leash. He knew her to a peach, he did. And it was true he loved every inch of that infernal woman, every speck about her. But that didn't mean he couldn't hate her too, sometimes.

"We just came from one of the other zones, but they'd already gone long before we got there. Did you follow Willow's instructions?" Already, her expeditious journey into the mission. That was all that mattered to her, all that ever did.

"I did. Got there just in time to see them haul the goods off into the thou-shalt-not pass dimension."

"So you couldn't stop them?" Alarm flickered over her face, a frown settling on her features. "How—" Her eyes finally flickered to the back end of the room, where Jade lingered. She had been silent during the exchange, but at some point had pulled herself to her feet, where she tottered by the bed. One hand gripped the remnants of her torn, blood-soaked shirt, covering her pale skin. He supposed he could have offered her a shirt before then, but it hadn't occurred to him, and she hadn't asked. And the peeks were nice. It had been a while since he had been with a woman, and though it sure as hell would had sped along his recovery from Buffy, he always felt so damn guilty about it that it was few and far between. Damn having a conscience. He should have been screwing everything that moved, but all he could think about Buffy, how she felt beneath him, and not some inferior mimic.

"You couldn't wait to get distracted until after you stopped the Order?" Buffy snapped her head back towards Spike, her blonde hair whipping with her speed. "I can't believe this. Spike, this was important."

"Hey, I said I tried alright. Not much I could do against mystical mojo, now can I?"

"No, but by all means, feel free to celebrate your failure." She shrugged her shoulders. She might no longer have worn her carefree, teenager clothes, appropriating beige dress pants, a fancy looking white top and a black suit jacket top, but the twinges of her jealousy were surfacing. At another time, Spike might have felt proud of himself, but as in all times that he succeeded making her jealous, he just felt bad about it after, knowing he could hurt her. It's probably why he did it, to prove she felt something. Although this time, it was unintentional. He looked back at the wounded Slayer. She was pale from her loss of blood, deep circles under her eyes. He could see now that they were a bright blue, and the lack of color in her pallid skin pronounced the red in her lips and the flush on her cheeks. Her brown hair was long pulled from whatever ponytail it had been in, tumbling down her shoulders in disarray. It definitely looked like they had been having fun, if the fact that she was full of holes and pale as a sheet was discarded.

"It's not as if people will get hurt because of it." She continued. Buffy was never one to pull punches, even to the people she supposedly liked. She didn't appreciate anyone getting in her way, and listening, definitely not a strong suit. He was expected to flinch at failure, but didn't, arching an eyebrow and looking back at her impassively.

"Jumping to conclusions a bit, are you? Not that I couldn't. You know, if I wanted to." Spike added, a little defensively. She didn't have to know about his sad lack of a sex life, no she did not. In fact, just keep that jealousy rolling. He was fine with that. Let her ruminate in it a little, realise how much she missed him.

"I'm Jade." Jade interjected, her voice cutting through the air casually, no expression on her face, but Spike saw how her lips were pinched tight together, and she fought to stand still. Buffy didn't even look back towards her.

"That's great." She spoke in a mock high voice, choosing to ignore who she figured was Spike's 'fling'. "I'm Buffy."

"I know who you are."

"Oh, you do, do you? He doesn't have you dress up as me, does he? Because he's done that, you know." Buffy said, turning towards the woman, who looked back at her in the same steady gaze. "And with a robot."

"Now, let's not get into that." Spike interrupted. He really did miss that Buffybot. Not her exuberant personality, but the other things were nice.

"I think there are more important things to worry about. Like this 'Order'?" A sarcastic tone inched her way into Jade's voice, defensive.

"Oh, you took her along, did you? Maybe that's why they got away?"

"I was there on my own."

"Oh, were you?" Buffy asked with some incredulity.

"She's, she's a Slayer, love." Spike muttered. "She was following them. Power Sources, by the way. Not gems. Flesh and blood little children. Which would have been a hell of a nice thing to know about."

"A Slayer?" Buffy echoed. "I didn't know there were any here."

"I keep to myself." Jade supplied, ignoring Buffy's answering eye-roll as she looked towards Spike. "I was following one of the 'Order', or whatever, a caretaker of the Orphanage here. She took five children, loaded them up in the van. She met another, there, and the two of them opened up a portal. It took the children, and them. I got hurt, they trapped us here, and left. Don't know where they went."

"We're working on it. We hoped to stop them before they made it through, but I guess we'll have to rethink it." Buffy sighed, looking back to Spike. "We'll make the trip to San Francisco now. Willow's working with the Coven. We'll tell them what we know, and hopefully unravel this mess." She looked back towards Jade. "You stay here. I'll have one of the other teams pick you up when we have time, add you to the ranks. If you can handle it."

"No." Jade said, as Buffy was already turning away. The blonde stopped, narrowing her green eyes as she looked back at the other slayer. "I'm not interested in joining. I'll come with you, now. I know the children, and I want to get them back. That's it."

Buffy laughed, shaking her head, while Spike shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Buffy seemed on a short string today, itching for a fight. "That's not how it works around here."

"I have the inside scoop." Jade declared, her hand leaving the support of the bed as she stepped away from it, slowly.

"You can barely stand," Buffy retorted, having now noticed the blood, both on her arm, and what could be glimpsed through the rips in her shirt. "Looks like you're out of this fight."

"Look. I just want to help. These power sources, or whatever, they are kids. And I know them. They don't deserve this. I'll stay out of the way. But I want to be there, when it goes down."

"Buffy, love, perhaps she can help." Spike spoke up, though not too many minutes ago he was having the same doubts himself. She had been hurt, badly, the mystery slayer. But her strength through the pain was commendable, keeping clear-headed and cool despite the blood running out of her veins. If she worked to give him her blood, they'd still be chained up in that building. She'd be dead, but she was alive now, as evident by her blazing blue eyes. Her body was weak, but her spirit, at least, seemed somewhat resilient.

"Shut up, Spike." Buffy snapped. "Look. You're not in any condition to do anything. You wouldn't last two minutes in a fight."

"You'd be surprised." Jade spoke as she ambled her way over to the two of them, disregarding Buffy's scoff.

"Fine. Let's put it to the test, shall we. If you're not unconscious in two minutes of fighting with me, you can come."

"Buffy." Spike's warning growl sounded, which the blonde ignored, looking haughtily back at Jade.

"Deal." Jade acquiesced.

"Okay, then." Buffy spoke in a sickly-sweet voice, glancing down at her watch. "And. Now."

Spike shook his head, frustrated, as the two slayers began to circle each other. They were going to destroy his apartment. If Buffy didn't beat the already wounded Slayer to a bloody pulp first. Probably both.