Chapter 8

Comparatively, on her scale of disastrous evenings (and she'd had many) tonight rated right up there. Buffy closed her front door and placed her head against the wood.

Being stood up by her admirer was bad but nearly making out with Spike? That was very worrying.

Next time she saw him she would have to resolve this 'mess' they'd got themselves into. Even if that meant growing a set and doing what she couldn't do before.

Buffy was just about to head up to bed when the phone rang. She picked up offering a tired and careworn "hello."

Giles answered. "Thank God. Finally I've reached you!"

Buffy yawned. "Hey Giles, did you get my message?"

"What message?" his tone was serious. "Look, never mind about that now. I've been digging through my extended library looking for anything on the Peroki; they really are quite fascinating beasts." Giles paused realising he was wandering off track. "Anyway I believe I've found something rather significant in an old text." He hesitated. "I'm afraid it's not good news."

Buffy leaned against the kitchen top; when was it ever? It really had been a long night. "Great, go ahead lay it on me."

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, it would seem that there is a way for a Peroki to acquire the abilities you've described. Genetically, Peroki don't possess the ability to muddy powers or cause feelings of instability when in close proximity. I believe it is a singular characteristic of this Peroki alone; created with the purpose of immobilizing a Slayer."

Buffy had heard enough. "Look, Giles, just tell me how to kill it." She'd taken all she could stand for one night. Her head hurt and those beers she'd chugged back to cover her discomfort were starting to make her feel nauseous.

The Watcher sounded annoyed with her lack of attention. "Buffy, I don't believe you fully understand quite how dangerous this situation is. The Peroki has been granted these abilities through a series of rights; the creature bequeaths its very existence to fulfilling them. These rights end in a ceremony that involves a ritual and a sacrifice. Once performed, it will open a window into a hell dimension, releasing the Peroki deity, Dephack. This in turn, it's written, will signal the end of times and the demise of the human race."

Buffy filled a glass of water. "OK, I get it; we need to stop it before it grabs some poor victim and orders up a mega beast with fries." She gulped down some water, trying to fight back the queasiness.

Giles blustered down the line. "No, I don't think you quite understand. You see the sacrifice that's needed is a very particular sort."

Buffy's vision swayed and Giles voice echoed through the receiver.

"Do you understand?"

She really needed to lay off the drinking; the room span around her. Giles continued.

"Buffy it's you."

She frowned, straining to concentrate as Giles explained.

"To complete the rights the Peroki needs to sacrifice a Slayer."

The back door shattered.

Buffy dropped the handset and spun round unsteadily. Grabbing a kitchen knife, she turned to face the Peroki.

She thought she could hear Giles in the distance calling her name. Her world swam as the demon closed in.

Spike opened his bottle of whiskey. It was cheap but it would have the desired effect.

'Best way to forget? Drink all you can get.'

A simple mantra that had helped him over the years, although it would take a distillery's worth to make him forget this evening's embarrassing episode.

He took a long slug and inwardly cringed as he remembered where it had all started to go wrong.

He'd seen the door start to open and was already running his opening salvo through his mind when she'd appeared; his moment had come.

She was caught off guard. Her eyes showed such sadness and vulnerability, it had thrown him completely. Buffy's face hardened almost instantly but he'd caught a glimpse of her in a state that he'd never seen before. Spike felt his anger fizzle and die; his righteous crucifixion was cancelled.

He'd suddenly felt like he wanted to hold her; he was consumed with the urge. Buffy was talking to him, he had to snap out of it.

Normally this is where you make a rather unwitty retort? Why; what had she said in the first place? Bloody concentrate! Too late, she was leaving. He had to think of something to say.

Say something! Anything. Just say the first thing that comes into your head, stupid.

You look nice. What on earth had possessed him? Well it was out there now; the damage was done.

Great, she was acting like she hadn't heard him. He had to say it again. His mother's old saying of 'in for a penny, in for a pound' ran through his mind as he painfully repeated his words.

Spike took another big slug, grimacing as the cut-rate liquor burned down his throat. It had all gone downhill from there.

Where the hell had, 'Say you want it.' Come from? Shuddering and closing his eyes he took another large swig. He really had to stop watching those daytime soaps; next thing he knew he'd be looking off moodily into the middle distance whilst professing his love for her.

Spike chuckled at the thought, his mirth drying as he considered this fake epiphany a little closer.

Bloody hell. That, he promised himself, was never going to happen.

Never.

He quickly took another settling swig and glanced down at the bottle. Damn, he'd have to go out and get more booze. Spike grabbed his leather and shrugged it over his shoulders. Downing the last of the whiskey with a wince, he turned to leave, pocketing his car keys as he headed towards the door.

Wrenching it open Spike was surprised to be greeted by a stern looking Giles. The librarian shoved past and entered the crypt. Spike sighed; closing the door he turned to address his unwanted guest.

"Why Rupert, to what do I owe the pleasure of your delightfully taciturn company?"

Giles, ignoring Spikes sarcasm, cut straight to the point.

"Buffy is missing, taken I believe by the Peroki demon."

Spike made sure that his face remained impassive.

"Right; and you're here...why?"

Giles ground his teeth.

"Listen Spike, here is the last place I would ever normally willingly be, so take comfort in the fact that I am as disturbed by my presence here as you are."

The watcher paused, momentarily fixing Spike with a tired glare before adding, "We've been looking for Buffy for the last two hours; checked every dump and hideout that we could think off. This beast has a prophecy to fulfil and means to sacrifice her."

Again Giles paused; this time to gather himself removing his glasses and cleaning them. Spike stood stock still taking in the news about the Slayer, keeping a strict poker face.

"If the Peroki performs the ceremony and sacrifices Buffy it would be the end of the world as we know it. We would all be subject to utter damnation and certain death." The Watcher narrowed his eyes adding, "Even you William."

Spike considered this as he walked over to the librarian.

"So you want me to join in the hunt for the little lost Slayer."

Giles looked as though he was chewing glass as he begrudgingly replied. "Quite. With your knowledge of the..." he sought for an appropriate word, "seedier parts of town you're far better equipped for this search than we are." His voice took on a pleading tone. "You must know somewhere, anywhere, a demon could hide. The only saving grace to this whole predicament is that the ceremony takes some time to perform; we can save her if we act fast."

Spike considered this, briefly raising an eyebrow and rubbing his jaw before replying.

"Hmm, you know what? I think I'll pass, Rupey old chap." Spike walked to the door and opened it; gesturing for the Watcher to leave he added, "thanks awfully for the invite; I guess I'll be seeing you in hell instead."

Giles approached him; showing his trademark reserve and, stemming the anger building inside, he offered an incentive.

"I'll pay you. In blood if you wish."

Spike locked eyes with the watcher.

"Now let me think. How can I put this so a stiff old tweedy priss like you'll understand?" Spike grinned "Ah! Yes. Not for all the ruddy tea in china mate."

Giles raised a finger and poked it into Spikes chest.

"Remember when you turned up at my house newly chipped and fitted with a tracker? You begged me for help. Maybe I should have slammed the door in your face, better still let Buffy stake your pathetic emaciated carcass right there on my step. But no; I gave you a chance, she gave you a chance. You owe us something for that." He moved his finger so that it hovered in front of Spikes face. "If you don't help me find her tonight, I swear, hell will be a sweet release after I'm done with you."

Spike raised an eyebrow; so the librarian actually had a set of balls. Good for him. Again he gestured for Giles to leave.

"I think its best you get going mate, like you said time is running out and you're getting dangerously close to being a watcher with nothing left to watch."

Giles flinched then gathering himself and, hardening his expression, he delivered a final rejoinder before turning to leave.

"There may not be an ounce of decency in you Spike, that I can understand, but I never took you for such a damned fool. Without her, we're all lost."

The door slammed and Spike was alone once again. He waited for a moment or two, enough time to let the old boy get a reasonable distance away, then, his face set with determination, he bolted out into the night.

Of course Giles was right; Spike did know all the dives, hangouts and handy little places to lay low around town. Places those saps wouldn't have checked. What the vampire hadn't wanted was the Scoobies slowing him down. Their intentions may be good but their abilities minus the slayer to do the heavy lifting were decidedly lacking.

The Peroki was quite an opponent; he recalled Buffy had told him that they needed to slice it in half to kill it. That required a flair for violence, something that (unfortunately for the Slayer) her chums had no aptitude for. No, he needed to work fast unimpaired by the do gooders and their clumsy attempts at a rescue.

Spike made his way to the groundkeeper's shed for a quick weapons recce. Kicking down the door he scanned the shelves, his eyes alighting on something suitable for chopping.

He smiled. 'Perfect!'

Grabbing what he needed Spike turned and hurried towards his car.

There was still time; if she got herself sacrificed before he'd had a chance to explain away his moronic display earlier he'd never forgive her. The bronze had been a setback that was all; he still had leverage against her and he fully intended to use it. Spike reassured himself that she was still alive; she was infuriatingly hard to kill, he had first-hand knowledge of that.

The car roared into life and Spike floored it, tearing out he headed towards the 'seedy' end of town.

Buffy woke.

She felt coldness against her skin and realised slowly that she was lying on the floor. The room was dimly lit and ramshackle. She tried to get up but failed; she'd been shackled to the ground. Her head throbbed as she attempted to move and Buffy groaned as she remembered the blow that had knocked her out. Focus slowly returning she managed to gather that she was secured spread eagle over a crudely drawn emblem, a sort of peculiar pentagram. She was cold because her dress had been removed; thankfully her underwear was still in place though. This was not what she had envisaged when she'd put on her best matching set; this night was seriously starting to piss her off.

The queasiness rose again and she spotted the Peroki kneeling at a makeshift altar surrounded in candles. He bowed to the ground as though praying. Buffy could hear a strange noise coming from the demon; an unintelligible chant that he recited as he repeated the action.

He was distracted; this was her best chance to get loose. Using all of her strength, Buffy strained against the metal shackles.

It was no use; her strength waning Buffy closed her eyes and vehemently cursed reinforced steel.

It was OK, as long as Mr toothy over there was chanting there was still time to be rescued. Giles would know what to do, he always did. He was probably already on his way with Xander and Willow in tow, possibly even Anya too, hopefully armed to the hilt and equipped with a cunning plan.

Her train of thought halted suddenly as she noticed the ominous silence surrounding her; the chanting had stopped.