Spoilers: Season 5. This story takes place directly after "Crush"
Rating: PG
Content: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: They are Joss's! All Joss's! I'm just *cough* borrowing them for a bit.
Feedback: Your words are literally keeping me writing on this one. I need all the help I can get! Thanks!



Chapter Five

Spike frowned as he tried to focuse on the face of the man who held the crossbow. The man's narrow nostrils flared with a haughty arrogance as his thin lips curled into a righteous sneer. Good sign, Spike nodded slightly to himself as he tried to subtly push against the crypt's stone door. All he had to do was stay intact long enough to get back inside his crypt and he could flee through the sewers.

"Oh, bloody hell," he grumbled. Dawn. What was he going to do about the girl? He scanned the face of the Van Helsing wannabe. The man didn't seem the type to hurt a young girl, Spike assured himself as he leaned harder on the door. He could leave her...

"Where is the girl? Speak now, Demon, and I'll make your passing quick and merciful," the man took a step forward, his eyes alert.

So much for that bit of wishful thinking.

"What? Not gonna lie and say you'll spare me if I sing, will you?" Spike snorted sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest, hoping he'd lure the hunter into a false sense of security. On the count of three, he told himself as he felt the door begin to give way.

The man looked completely confused as he considered the vampire.

"But you are evil."

"It's a hobby," Spike shrugged indifferently.

One.

"So, are you going to tell me the name of my murderer?" Spike nearly smiled in relief as he saw the pride evident on the young man's face. The bigger the ego is, the easy they are to trip.

"Samson."

Two.

"Just Samson?"

Samson frowned as he considered the thought carefully. So busy thinking, Spike noticed, that his itchy trigger finger didn't seem to be trembling as much anymore.

"Samson Gulliver, Esquire," the man spoke warily, the words barely flowing through the gritted teeth.

Three--

The vampire never knew what went wrong. Perhaps his body had visibly tensed, or maybe his face gave it all away, but the next thing he knew there was a wooden bolt flying through the air, its silver head aimed straight for the vampire's dead heart.

With lightning speed, Spike thrust out his hands protectively before his heart as he threw himself with all his strength against the stone door and fell backwards into the crypt.

He gasped as the yellowed wood pierced his pale, slender hands and embedded itself into his chest. With his last bit of energy, he kicked the door shut and collapsed at the edge of the threshold, praying to a god long forgotten that the Nibblet wouldn't have to watch him crumble into dust.





Her daughter leaned her head wearily against the cold aluminum pole, her forehead furrowed as she looked across the park.

"... he won't know," the Slayer folded her arms across her chest in a curiously Dawn-ish fashion. "We told Dawn to stay away from him, Mom."

Joyce shook her head slightly, almost tempted to smile at her child's naivete even as she held back the tears.

"I also remember telling you to stay away from Angel," she reminded the Slayer, her voice soft but firm.

Buffy had the good grace to colour as her mother's words hit her.

"But... Angel... a soul," the girl stuttered uncomfortably as she glanced away.

Joyce waved her child's excuses off with a swift hand. "Buffy, it doesn't matter. The point is that you believed that you knew better. So you went to him regardless of what I said."

"She wouldn't!" Buffy spit out, her worried face melting into an expression of disbelief.

"Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't," Joyce sighed as she leaned against the pole. "No more than you would."

Her daughter closed her eyes tightly as she shook her head.

"Great. Just wonderful."

The older woman sighed heavily as she looked to the silver watch on her wrist. Where had the time gone? she wondered sadly as she looked up at the blackened sky. They had spent the last three hours searching Sunnydale for the missing girl, but she was no where to be found. It was almost as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth. Joyce shook her head suddenly, forcing the thought out of her head.

"Buffy?" she started hesitantly, knowing quite well how her oldest would take her request. "I'll wait for the others here. Go check Spike's. Get him to help."

The Slayer's head swung back to look at her mother, her head shaking almost imperceptibly.

"Buffy. Do it," Joyce enunciated the words carefully, frowning as she watched her daughter open her mouth to protest. "Listen to me. She's helpless right now and alone. We have to find her before anything else does, Buffy. And if that means we have to go to Spike to do it, so be it."

"Mom..."

"Don't 'Mom' me. I know how you feel about him, but right now I don't care. What is five minutes of being uncomfortable compared to your sister's safety?" she angrily pushed a lock of soft, brown hair behind her ear. "Spike has shown time and time again he can find anyone, anything anywhere, Buffy. And if we can use him to help us find Dawn, then we will. Understood?"

Buffy closed her eyes as she nodded slightly.

"I'll leave the second Giles and the rest get here," she started softly.

Joyce shook her head, the brown curls flying in every direction.

"They'll be here any minute. I'll wait for them. You go now."

"But..."

The frown on the mother's face intensified. "Go now, Buffy. I can take care of myself. Dawn can't."

Joyce watched as her daughter nodded then darted away, the orange plaid skirt flying up indecently as the girl leapt over a fallen garbage can. Joyce collapsed into the wide rubber of a swing, dangling her feet helplessly as she wished with all her heart they would get to her youngest daughter before anything happened.





Spike choked back a fit of laughter as he looked down at the wooden shaft pinning his hands above his heart. He wasn't quite sure why he wasn't dead yet, but he wasn't willing to quite question it aloud. That would seem too much like tempting fate.

Someone kicked roughly at the door, jarring his body as where it lay. He groaned in pure agony as he felt the wood brush against the surface of his heart, the pain of the movement nearly making him fall unconscious. It was a terrible pain unlike any he had ever known, one that made every other injury he'd ever endured in his existence seem like nothing more than a small scrape.

He ground his teeth together as he tried to pull his hands free of the shaft, but they wouldn't come loose. Harnessing what little strength he still possessed, Spike edged quietly away from the door, realising that any unnecessary movement could drive the bolt home.

The man burst through the door, his long hair shadowed by the night as he looked around the crypt. His eyes rested on Spike just long enough to ascertain the fallen vampire would not be a problem before he glanced around the room. With a lazy, cocky grin, his eyes roamed to the girl sleeping so blissfully in the recliner.

Samson quietly reloaded the crossbow, cocking it solemnly as he pointed it at Dawn's forehead.

"She's just a bloody little girl!" Spike forced his mouth to move, the effort alone causing his body to break out into a cold sweat.

"She's evil incarnate," Samson huffed as he frowned down at the child.

"I always knew I liked her," the vampire winced as he watched the girl sleep so innocently, unaware of the madman who held her little life in his hands.

The madmen, Spike corrected himself in a fit of honesty as he tried pulling the shaft out of his chest again. He groaned softly as he yanked his hands free, tearing the tender, white skin. His weakened hands grasped around the slippery shaft, his own blood painting his torn hands a macabre red. He bit deeply into his bottom lip as he pulled the shaft free of his chest, shuddering with the pain as the metal embedded in his heart broke free of the tissue.

The assassin shook his head slowly as he contemplated the girl.

"She's so young to be such a creature," he murmured absently as he tightened his grip on the crossbow. "I had no idea she'd be such a pretty little thing. Why does evil always take the form of beauty?"

Spike groaned audibly as he tried to gain a handle on his fading strength. Figures he'd get the maniac poofter who would insist on boring everyone to death with philosophy before he murdered them.

"Why do you insist on using that dreadful accent, mate? Puh-leese. Why would you want to sound like a bloody American anyway?" Spike grumbled absently as he tried to distract the madman from the little girl.

Samson took a step back and appraised the vampire cautiously.

"I am American, you moron," the man growled as he turned to face the bloodied creature.

"You are no more a Yank than I am. So what's the deal?" Spike nearly laughed in triumph as he watched the crossbow lower as the assassin regarded him carefully.

"I don't have time for this," Samson stated evenly as he swung back to Dawn. Slowly, deliberately, he raised the weapon until it lined up with her head.

Spike suddenly shot out a foot, grunting in pain as his chip protested the contact he made with the back of the assassin's knees. He shook his head as he watched the assassin fall to his feet, the crossbow flying free from his hands.

Somehow he found the strength to find his way to his feet.

The assassin slowly stood, his disbelieving eyes focused on the vampire warily. He shook his head silently as he raised his fists.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike huffed impatiently as he launched himself at the man, waiting for the chip to wrack his brain with the shooting pain as he punched Samson in the face. His body seized as the heat coursed through his veins, the contractions nearly causing him to fall to his feet. Perhaps it was due to the weeping wounds in his chest and hands, but the pain, amazingly enough, wasn't as bad as he expected.

Samson snapped a fist back, knocking Spike in his nose. There was an electrifying hunger in the man's eyes, as if the blood and violence would make the assassination even sweeter.

"S-spike?" Dawn's sweet voice seemed to rise above the callous shuffling. It took all his willpower not to look at her.

"Go find your sis, Nibblet. Now."

The girl shook her head as she wearily stood amidst the chaos. "My head hurts."

"Tell your bloody sister!" he growled, his face fully transformed into the demon visage as he blocked a kick. "Just go, dammit."

Samson tackled the vampire to the floor, sticking his fingers into the open wounds and twisting the skin.

"Just sit right there, girl, and I won't kill your friend here," Samson growled as he looked up from the carnage to see the child's paled face.

"You were the man at the park," she whispered as she backed closer to the wall.

The man's face fell at her words. "You saw me?"

"That's what she just said, you git," Spike jabbed his elbow into the man's neck, his body tensed as he waited for the pain to hit. He whimpered as the fire echoed through his body, it seeming to burn away the last of his strength. Helpless, he lay on the floor as he watched the little girl look dumbly at the monster above him.

"But they trained me. I passed my tests with bloody flying colours! You couldn't have seen me!" the assassin protested, oblivious to everything but his own voice. With a sharp intake of breath, he bashed the demon on the head a last time before he shoved himself up off the floor. With an intimidating huff of breath, Samson took a step towards the girl.

"You're human," she breathed, almost as if she were unwilling to believe she could come to harm from her own kind.

"And you are not," Samson retorted, his eyes full of nothing more than the pride of a job soon to be well done. "We were told you were Her."

"Her?" Dawn asked, glancing down at Spike who was gesturing with his bloody hands for her to stall.

"The Hellgod. One of the triumvirate," the assassin chuckled harshly, a flush darkening his cheeks. "Even I couldn't kill a god. But I can destroy the Key which would unlock the darkness. And thus, the threat would be eliminated forever."

"Oh, please," Dawn rolled her eyes to the heavens as she tried to banish the desperate tones from her voice. "Do you see what I have to put up with, Spike?" she spit out through gritted teeth.

Samson looked at her, his pallid lips tugging into a frown.

Spike winced as he watched the little girl take a confident step towards the killer, her pretty face contorted by dismay.

"The Key, Key, Key. Everyone talks about it but no one seems to know where it is!" the Key complained, her voice shaking with feigned anger. Spike could see the vein at the base of her neck pulsing madly. Had the assassin been a vampire, he would have known instantaneously the girl was lying from just the strong scent of fear she exuded alone.

"You are a man, aren't you?" she hissed as she stood on her tiptoes to look into the man's bewildered eyes. "Then why aren't you helping me find my Key? It's not that hard, really! I mean, puh-leeese! You know, Damsel. Distress. You figure it out."

Samson shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at the girl.

"But you are the Key."

Dawn slapped him upside his head, her lower lip trembling as the man jumped. "Like, hello! If I were the Key, do you actually think I'd still be here right now? I wouldn't be having this problem. I'd be back home, queen of the roost like I should be instead of standing here wasting my precious time talking to you," she whined in feigned annoyance, her hands shaking as she gestured outrageously.

His hands braced against the stone coffin, Spike slowly pulled himself up. The girl's eyes darted to him and almost in a panic, she spoke again.

"Everywhere I go, it's Slayer this, Key that. It's like everyone can't stop thinking about themselves long enough to even think about me! Like, hello! What's that about! Ya can tell the world is really *SPLOOF*! going down the tubes when my problems just don't mean anything." The girl put her hands up to her forehead, her hands moving frantically along her forehead as the assassin looked dumbly on.

She's really quite good, Spike thought in wonder as he tried to silently creep up behind the stunned madman. Almost good enough to make me wonder.

Dawn met his eyes for a moment, her soft brown ones deadly serious in her intent.

"It's enough to make a girl crazy. Just crazy," she grumbled as she suddenly slapped her hands together. "Ya know what I mean?"

Samson shook his head slowly, bewitched by the girl's actions.

"I didn't think so. Too much to expect," she sighed melodramatically as she hopped up onto the coffin, trying to scoot subtly out of the assassin's reach.

He shook his head quickly as he stepped closer to her. "I don't know what game you are playing at, girl," Samson spoke dully as he reached out for her slender neck. "But I'm not buying it."

"Willing to bet your measly little life on it?" Dawn snorted, her eyes darting from Spike back to Samson as her bluff ran out of steam.

"Yeah, I think I am."

"I think not," Spike growled as he rammed into the back of the assassin, kicking the man off his feet. He pinched the man by his neck as he tried to drag him away from Dawn. Grinding his teeth as he anticipated the pain, he clawed Samson across the chest, watching in awe as the blood unleashed from the man's body.

No pain.

Where's the bloody pain? Spike cringed as he waited for it to hit, the distraction giving Samson the upperhand. The bruised fist slammed repeatedly into Spike's face, but the vampire was too busy waiting for the chip to kick in to even notice.

"Where's the bloody pain?" he echoed out loud as he looked to the blond man above him. The man seemed affronted by Spike's question and punched him hard in the gut.

He grasped the man's neck with his bloody hands, his face contorted by the demon within. His nostrils flared as he sank his teeth into the man's thick neck and waited for the pain to strike.

Suddenly, Spike shoved the dazed assassin away and looked up towards the crying girl. When did she start crying, a part of him wondered dully as his eyes seemed to find their way back to Samson's bleeding neck.

"Spike, come on. We got to go," Dawn urged, pulling on the vampire's sleeve. "We got to go!"

He nodded, still unable to look away from the blood.

"Spike! Come ON!"

With a groan, he allowed the girl to help him up to his feet, unwilling to meet her concerned gaze. She knew, he realised with a sickening twist in his stomach.

Panting with exertion, she pulled him towards the door, her eyes focused solely on the stunned man sitting on the floor. The assassin looked blankly at the blood covering his hands. They only had moments before the man regained his senses and the girl knew it.

"Spike!" she screamed in his ear as she continued tugging. "Run, dammit. We have to run!"

The vampire turned to her, his eyes wide in disbelief as they flickered over her tense countenance. Suddenly, the laughter that had been burbling up in him finally released itself with a vengeance.

Her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears as she regarded him in dismay. "What the hell is the matter with you? We got to get out of here, you dumbass!"

Spike nodded as he wiped away his own tears. Funny, he thought as he grabbed the girl by the hand. He didn't even remember crying. The deep timbre of laughter was still evident in his voice as they started to run away from the place he had long considered home.

"The electricty lied to me, Nibblet. It lied."