52
He saw Buffy. That was all he needed. She was alive, trapped like bloody sardines with the rest of her Slayerettes, but alive. It was a sodding miracle. He could have recited a damn prayer, but he had to keep his relief in check. Yes, she was alive, and he was going to be the one to bloody rescue her, her and everyone else. He was going to save her, he wouldn't have to lose her today. All that stood in his way was that simpering Slayer-vampire and her equally pathetic boyfriend. They didn't intimidate him. Perhaps they should, but Spike didn't give many damns about authority. He skirted it and rebelled against it frequently and happily. It filled him with disgust to see how many sodding vampires were lingering around there, waiting for their will to be dictated to them like they were bloody minions. Sure, Spike had had his share of minions before. Flunkies, not fluggies as Teen Magazine was calling them, snapping her pink lips like she was a valley girl. Probably was, not to mention her highly exaggerated English accent that grated on Spike's ears, too high and too posh and too bloody much.
And she was ordering the vampires around, even without the belt. Thank God that Red's spell still held out. After this all went down, he owed the Wicca an apology. And he'd give it, freely and without too much reluctance, because it would mean that his own valley girl was alive and well, his Buffy. And they were so close now, so ready. The amount of vampires didn't bother him. He doubted many of them were as strong as he and Angel, not to mention the array of misfits they had tagging along. And Illyria, she was always fun in a fight. Didn't have much in the social attitude, but she was one to get her hands dirty, as if beating someone down would help regain her previous Godhood. When Pretty in Pink had mentioned being as strong as a Goddess, Illyria had tensed, her gloved hands wrapping irritably around the stone balcony. Yep, Old One was not fond of frauds, that was for damn sure. Good. Give her a bit of steam to blow off. Always handy to get people strung up before a fight, give them that extra edge.
Except for Jade, she didn't need the anger. She was focused, looking down, keeping her breathing steady to try to mask how her heart was beating all over the place. She understood the gravity of it all. So did Spike, but he welcomed the challenge, the risk. Be more fun that way. And plus, his girl could watch him kill them all from inside her little prison. And Jade, Jade could watch from his side. And he was comforted by that thought. He trusted her there, wanted her there even. She'd give her all, and so would he. He wasn't used to depending on the capabilities of someone else, but she had been worth the trust so far. When Miss Slayer-Vampire 2006 called attention to them all, he could feel her shaky breath, worried that she had been the one to give them up. It hadn't been that, or just that. Angel had been speaking, reminding them of their task. Get the girdle. And she wasn't the only one with a heartbeat. Didn't think Illyria had one left in that hardened cask of hers, but Connor did. Either way, they were lucky to have gotten this far without being detected.
As Angel said, it was time. Spike's eyes flew to Buffy. He'd get her out. He'd save them all. This was why he wore the white hat, what made him a champion. Because he could do good. Because maybe, each life saved could go towards the ones he had taken. He watched as Angel vamped and descended, followed by his misfits. By loyalty, love, money, or the thrill of the fight, without hesitation, they followed him. And so would he and Jade. Soon. Sometimes, he did accept the need for strategy. A couple seconds, to let the fighting break out, and then they could go for the belt. Likely, they'd end up near the Romeo and Juliet, for the strongest would be protecting the girdle, but with the others distracting them, he and Jade could get close. And then kill some things on the way there. So he had held her back. Told her to wait. Had been counting, when suddenly, she had reached up to him and pulled him down to her.
The times before, he had initiated the kiss. Part of him had thought that was because maybe, she didn't desire it. Spike went for what he wanted, knew Jade was demure, mostly. But here, she was pressing her lips to his, entangling that taste of mint and saccharine sapidity. It was brief, and he found himself almost disappointed that she pulled away. Actually forgot for a moment, the fight going on beneath him, floored. And then for luck, she said. He had to smirk at that, as he pulled himself back together on a dime, quick enough to match her leap to the cavern below, falling in unison. His legs absorbed the fall better than hers did—being dead and all, but she rolled to absorb some of the shock, and then they were separated a moment, by the mass of bodies.
Spike vamped, taking one of the stakes from his duster and plunging it into the chest of their enemy, kicking another back into the throng. And then he saw Jade, staking one with a wooden stake, and another with one of her arrow, plunging it into his chest and watching him turn to dust around it. She glanced at him, that tiny, quick smirk of elation, before seriousness took over the two of them again. They had to get to the girdle. It was harder down here, without their vantage point from the balcony. Their vision was easily obscured, the path not easy. It wasn't a human fight. Bodies were thrown, flying, from all over the place, above, beside, hell, he wouldn't be too surprised if one broke out of the stone and tried to grab his ankle.
He could hear Angel's roar, and moved towards it, not having to look to know that Jade was close at his heels, dusting another vampire without barely missing a step. She was right with him, blood pounding in her heart, breath coming quicker, adrenaline surging. She was in Slayer-mode, ready for the fight. And this was what they had waited for, the blood, the killing. The saving. They would save them all. Hell, if the Vampire wicca was killed, the Slayers could fight for their damn selves. Do some of their own rescuing. Win this fight.
They broke through the crowd, and there was Angel and Connor, scrapping with the Slayer-Vampire, or 'Slampire', as she'd stupidly dubbed herself. Or Goddess. Groo was there with them. Illyria and two of their demon friends had gone after the vampire-witch. Everything was going to plan, except for the girdle. The dead Slayer bitch had wrapped it around her arm. Obviously, the curse kept it inert, but not painful to hold. Point off for the Redheaded witch. Spike would have definitely liked to see some pain there. But it didn't matter, it just meant Jade and he would converge on the Slampire. Get that girdle from her. Then kill the Slayer-witch, rescue the girls. Rescue Buffy. And leave, bloody victorious. A perfect day. They could win.
And then Mandy reached her hand into Groosalugg's chest and pulled out his heart. It was so fast, so blindingly fast, that Spike knew in an instant that she was toying with them, toying with them all, making smoochie faces at Angel and Connor, who glanced in horror as blood dribbled down Groo's lips, to his chin, as he mumbled a broken, "Cordelia…" And slid to the ground. Spike didn't have to use his hearing to know that Groo was dead. Had no heart left to beat. It was held in Mandy's hand as she grinned, nonchalantly kicking the body at the father and the son. Connor hesitated, stricken, and Angel pulled him out of the way, as their friend became just another projectile. Then Spike became aware. They hadn't been winning. In one moment the wave of destruction was clear upon them. He could hear the death-roars dying in the Fyarls' throats as they fell around them, succumbing to their wounds, their flunkies dying easily, first.
They could all die easily. Derek was on the defensive, unable to use magic if he wanted to keep the barrier up, but then as quickly as Mandy had killed Groo, she came to her lover's defense. She hit Illyria with a swing so hard, it was reminiscent of Illyria's old strength. The blue being flew, flew, like she was a pebble, thrown across the cavern until she hit the rocky walls and fell. Spike could smell her bloody from where he was, knew the distinctive, ancient smell of it. God, Mandy was so fast. So quick. Like the ancient vampires should be, but she was young. She was the strength of vampire and Slayer combined, with all the speed and agility of both. Slayers didn't lose their abilities after death, Buffy was example of that, the two times she had died. And Vampires, well. The dead were given their gifts, Slayers no exception. She was strong, stronger than they had expected. The true reason how all those Slayers were captured was apparent now. Something this strong and fast, with a witch to aid her, she was bloody near invulnerable.
They could lose. They could all lose. Spike could deal with dying. It'd have to happen sometime eventually, wouldn't it? Could be his time. He'd lived and unlived over a hundred and fifty years, and died way too many times. He could handle one more, one last rest. But he couldn't handle what would follow in his bloody wake. Could think that Buffy would die. She deserved more. She had ten bloody years as her tenure of Slayer. A decade. For vampires, that was for nothing, for humans, they had a couple of those, but for a Slayer that was damn well unheard of. She had singlemindedly made so much come to pass, constructed this whole Slayer Organization, something to be feared. And now, it could all come apart. The end of the white hats. Starting with him and Angel, the only two souled vampires in existence. Then Connor, the only child of vampires in existence, in history, and then Jade. Just a Slayer, but so much more. So unique, that rogue Slayer. He was beginning to see it, truly appreciate it. And she had thrown herself in, just like everyone else. Willing to fight, to die. The thought that he led her to her death filled him with an ache akin to pain. It wasn't right. They weren't supposed to lose this.
He charged in, no more hesitation, no more surveying the situation. He knew what he wanted and it hung on the bitch's arm. She smiled as he approached, giggling hysterically. Her hands were dripping with blood, and with a motion she might have thought was seductive, she gestured him in with two fingers. Oh, he'd be there alright. He swung at her wildly, as fast and as with much force behind it as he could muster.
"Oh, you are… pretty. Rawrr." Mandy made a ostentatiously shameless 'rawr', that reminded Spike of the light yipping sounds that Dru would make, yet with none of Dru's class, and just crass, pathetically childlike performance. "Don't tell my boyfriend, but you are hot hot."
"I can hear you," Derek whined from where he stood, behind her. "Vampire hearing, you know."
"Shut up and keep that force field up, alright. Honestly." She rolled her eyes and turned her head back to Spike. "He has jealousy issues. But I can't help it. Monogamy is not for Goddesses. And you are some sweet eye-candy."
"Oh, stuff it in your drawers," Spike drawled. "Not interested."
She pouted. She was keeping herself between him and the vampire-witch, who kept himself out of reach. Tom Cribb had slid back, pulled in to fighting the main mass of vampires, though Val Trepkos was staying on target. From what Angel had said, he had met the two of them in some illegal demon fighting ring—now that would have been a bloody hoot that Spike was sorry to have missed out on, and he was sizing up the Slayer-Vampire like she was an opponent in the ring, keeping his distance. Angel and Connor had regrouped, coming up with Jade on their side as the five of them neared the Slayer-Vampire bitch who didn't look concerned in the least, wrapping the belt enticingly along her arm.
"Oh, lovely. You guys brought me another Slayer, even. Aww. And goodness. What a treat. Angel, the great. Angel. I'm going to keep you. I know you have that bothersome soul, but I hear that can be fixed easily." Mandy said cheerfully, keeping herself out of range with simple blocks, languidly and easily keeping them at bay. "Going to keep you. You're hot." She pointed at Spike. "And you, you might make an interesting vampire. Because I think you're human, but you got some something in you. That might be fun." She ticked her tongue at Connor next. "You though… you look like one of those battering ram dinosaurs. That ankle-sauro or whatever. I guess there's not much use for you." And Spike knew, knew that she was going for Val next. And perhaps, if she tried to snap his neck, he would have lived. But his chest, bare, and not as protected as the bone covering his skull, that was vulnerable. And she was there, and this time her face changed, fangs showing, her eyebrows gone, and the familiar ridges appeared, the face of the vampire she was as she reached her hand towards his chest. And Val caught it, he did. Caught her wrist, but not the fist as it plunged into his chest, as she had done with Groo, but this time she took out bones instead of his heart, gripping them in her hand like a trophy. Spike was the nearest to Val, saw it happen and couldn't stop it.
But he could reach out, there, with Val's help, the last strength of the demon, holding onto Mandy's hand, and Spike grabbed it, landing a punch on Mandy's face. There was surprise, glee almost on her face, as she laughed. But then, her eyes shifted, and her free hand zipped up to catch the arrow out of the air, the one that Jade had stepped back to shoot at her heart.
"Don't hurt my face, that is just rude. A girl needs her face. Pretty and intact, thank you." Mandy frowned, puckering up her lips into another displeased pout. Spike thought he was holding there, as Connor swung at her and she ducked his kick, but with the pressure suddenly on him, Spike realised that she was the one holding him, which she demonstrated immediately after, flinging him off of her and sending him flying into the remaining vampires. He staggered back onto his feet. Jade had stepped back in to take his place, switching her bow for her favored machete. It was then he realised that the Vampires weren't attacking them anymore. That the rest of the demons they had brought with them were dead or incapacitated. That the remaining vampires weren't helping Mandy kill them, they were keeping them boxed in.
Bloody hell. They hadn't formed a promising plan, hadn't gotten lucky. They were trapped in. Trapped in by a willing spider, who continued to play with her prey. She was stronger than him, faster than him. Faster than them all. Arrogant and fearless as any Slayer, and cruel and ruthless like any vampire. He saw Jade land a punch on her, a full strength, Slayer punch, and Mandy didn't even flinch. Yeah, they could take her down. Maybe. If they had more people. A strength of numbers, or at least some goddamn luck. There was a crack and a cry of pain as Spike threw himself back into the fight, seeing Connor falling to his knees and holding his broken arm. Much in the same way Mandy had snapped Willow's arm, she could be non-lethal when she wanted to be, and still take the players out of the fight. It was just him, Angel and Jade left. And Angel could barely focus on anything but his son, fear and realisation rising in his eyes.
Angel had tried to treat his son as an adult who could make his own decisions, as a man who could redeem for his past mistakes, and now Connor could die because of it. They all could. And Spike had brought Jade alone, who promised to help him, and the medallion that Willow had given her proved that she knew dying was a possibility. A great one, and she had come anyway. Was willing to die. God, was this the end? The end of everyone he cared about? All the elation of battle had drained away, all the thrills. Now, it was a fight for survival as he threw his punches and kicks with desperation. Everyone was watching, all the vampires remaining, the Slayers trapped, Connor with his broken arm, as his father still tried to keep stepping in front of him, to protect him, while Jade and Spike slipped to fill in Angel's flanks. The slight bruise on Mandy's face had already healed, the reddened flesh now back to its overly fake sun-tanned glow. And Spike's shoulders were aching from how hard he had hit the ground. The three of them were doing a dance around Mandy, and the was handling them all easily, jumping up whenever they got too close. And she could jump far, further than a vampire or a Slayer. She rose up and down, catching Jade on the shoulder. The blow shook the smaller Slayer, and Jade bounced like a ragdoll, crashing down to the ground and skidding before she came to a stop.
"Jade," Spike could barely spare a breath of concern, only a moment's glance before he had to look back to Slampire bitch. He and Angel were fighting a desperate game. He thought of the parallels, all the times they had fought together in the past. He wondered, traitorously, if Angelus and soulless Spike could have done a better job than they were doing. If their soulless selves had the ruthlessness that they lacked. Buffy had accused him of it once before, that his soul had cost him his bloodlust, made him a worse fighter. And she had been right, at the time. He'd hoped he had proved her wrong by now, but he didn't know. Didn't know if chipped, neutered, love-sopped Spike stood more of a chance against Mandy than he did. Wondered if he'd see Jade lying there then, or if he could have bloody done something. He and Angel fought as hard as they could. For each blow they landed, they would take one that had them flying across the room. And still, the rest of Mandy's minions would not interfere. And they didn't need to. Even Derek was standing there, calmly watching. Damnit, they were fighting this and they were losing.
Mandy did an acrobatic flip, kicking Angel with both of her feet as she completed her airborne circle, and he staggered back, falling heavily. Then Mandy was there, following Angel's fallen body, climbing upon it like a cat. She struck Angel, hard, across the jaw, something that Spike wanted to do many a time, but he didn't want to see it, not now. Angel struggled to get up, and Spike rushed to his aid, but Mandy swung her leg quickly, kicking Spike back. God, he had taken so many hits now, his ribs were broken, and he was glad they weren't made of wood, because he felt like there were shards in his heart, his lungs. His face, well, that was a piñata, his leg probably broken, and his other knee swollen. He felt like he was fighting Illyria again, getting hit by a mack truck. Except, she had done it out of detached scientific curiosity, Mandy was doing it to put him down and keep him down. Connor had been crawling towards his dad's body, but vampires held him still, and he was too weak to fight, at least too weak to fight well, and with a blow at his head, the vampires knocked him out as well, joining his dad in the land of the unconscious. Well, at least, for now.
Spike rose to his full height, running his tongue across his sharp teeth. He was vamped, and his fangs were the only weapon he had ever needed, but it wasn't enough right now. Mandy jumped off of the unconscious Angel, turning back to Spike in what she thought was an alluring, seductive twirl. "Well, helloooo handsome." She smiled coyly.
"Mandy, baby, please." Derek groaned. "Do you have to flirt with everyone? And that straddling now? Did you really?"
"Oh, shush. Like I haven't seen you eyeballing our army. Yes, I know it's a lot of girls. But if you loved me you wouldn't ogle."
"I think I might vomit," Spike interrupted, with as much snark as he could muster. Couldn't show his vulnerability, his failing spirit. "Like he loves you. Probably just trying to use you for your fantastic bod and strength, luv."
"Oh," she blinked her face to one side, flapping her hand as if she was a 1950s housewife. "Well, you're not wrong. Gorgeous bod."
"Please, he's trying to appeal to your ego," Derek sighed.
"He is speaking the truth!" Mandy snapped back. "And flirting. That is how you flirt. First, you're incredibly handsome, and then you—hey, do you think you could take your shirt off? It would make beating you a lot hotter, and nice eye candy." She had turned back to face Spike after her 'hey'. The two were slowly gravitating towards each other, the last two in play.
"Trade you my shirt for that belt you got there," Spike nodded towards what was still wrapped in her hand.
"Belt? Oh, belt. Well, apparently, that spell your little Red-headed annoying miss annoyingness put on it is about to wear off, and I'm not that dumb. Although I am dating someone dumb." She directed her comment back to Derek who huffed angrily in response. And she wasn't completely wrong. Spike could see it for himself, not about the magic blighter, he couldn't give a damn about that, but the shimmering magic around the belt had grown dimmer, just in the couple minutes they had been fighting. It wouldn't hold out much longer. Minutes, maybe.
"I am not dumb. You're the overly paranoid one! And high maintenance." The last comment was more of a pitiful mutter.
"Pleasssee. You should have done this hours ago. But no, you can't manage it. So shush. I'm talking to eye-candy right now." Mandy looked at Spike. Her lip gloss hadn't even smeared. Spike had blood dripping from a pretty substantial area of his body, and she hadn't so much as messed up her makeup, and the cuts and bruises she had sustained were healing or healed already. He couldn't beat her in a one vs. one fight. But that didn't mean he couldn't try. He lunged at her. For Buffy. For the Slayers. For Jade.
And Mandy caught him, by his wrist, kicking him once in the knee to lower him to the ground, then twirling with her other foot to smack him across the stomach. The action jarred his already broken and fractured ribs, and he felt blood dribble out of his lips, his own. If he had still been human, he'd be unconscious. Or dead, if he had to absorb the full force behind the Slayer-vampire's blows. As it was, with all his vampire strength, he found it very difficult to stagger back to his feet. Mandy observed, giving him the chance to stand back up. She was toying with him, a cat with her mouse. Spike had often been the cat, but rarely the frail, at mercy mouse. Mandy had been standing back from him, blinking coquettishly at him under her black clumped eyelashes, and then, in a flash, she was in front of him.
Vampire speed, which to a human could be compared to teleporting short distances—one second they were there, and the next they weren't. And even with Spike's enhanced sight, he could barely keep track of her as she zoomed forward, stopping sparse inches in front of him. She snapped her lips provocatively, and Spike curled his lip in revulsion. He jerked out his hand, and he was surprised to see that it hit its mark, curling around Mandy's neck. But she glanced back at him placidly, unbothered, almost aroused instead. She didn't see him as a threat, but as a conquest. And the soulless Spike, who had a thing for women stronger than him, maybe he'd be the tiniest bit tempted. But Spike as he was now was just repulsed. He found her a revolting thing, the one who held the life of his loved one and many others in her manicured hands. Bloody hell, the arrogance of this bint. He couldn't even play along, couldn't smirk at her, call her love and pretend to appreciate the attention. All he wanted was to tear her head off.
"This doesn't hurt, you know," Mandy dribbled out in a gush, smacking her lips. "I kinda like it. Masculine power and all that. Hot."
"Just holdin' you in place," Spike informed her, rewarded by a frown of her freshly plucked eyebrows, as the movement he had seen from behind her rose in a fury. Jade, who had relied on Spike keeping Mandy's attention, rose with a stake in her hand, plunging it into Mandy's back as Spike held her still. At least, he had tried to. She had shifted her attention quickly, so quickly, plucking the wooden stake out of the air before it could even graze her dead flesh. Mandy shoved Spike away in a whirlwind of movement, and he lost hold of her neck. He stumbled back to the ground, feeling a snapping, a pain in his arm. Broken. He remembered how long it had taken him to recuperate after getting that piano dropped on him, when Drusilla had dragged him from the wreckage, he had had months, months of staying in a wheelchair. And sure, a human would have been paralysed for life, but he healed. But it had taken so long, so much uselessness. He didn't want to be helpless. But it might not even matter now, any loss of mobility. They could all die.
And is, as if to solidify the likelihood of that statement, as the Slayer-Vampire took the stake from Jade, she twisted it, sticking in into Jade's stomach, and his Slayer fell to the ground.
