SPIKE & DRU: WORLD AT WAR
CHAPTER THREE:
THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY, PART I

Spike had spent most of the day flicking through the book that Drusilla had stolen from General Grellik. General. He still couldn't help but find that funny. When they last met he was just a bad sport who had to get in the way of other people's chances to get a kill just because he couldn't do it himself. Maybe that explained why he was so insistent on getting his hands on the Spear of Destiny. It would definitely make up for his previous inadequacies.

Looking out through the cracks in the wood that boarded up the window to their current residence, Spike noticed that the sun was going down. At last. He could finally get out and find more about the Spear. He put the book down on the wooden table that was slowly being overridden by woodworm. The house had probably belonged to a Jewish family who had their world ripped apart by the uprising of the Nazis. Spike had no doubt that they were dead by now and with no one to claim the place it had become their home for the three weeks that he and Dru had spent here.

He got to his feet and pulled the long trench coat. Dru was sleeping peacefully in their bed, a smile on her face as she seemed to be dreaming about what the Spear would bring them both. If it was true, if the owner got to rule the world, things would be a lot better for them both. No more travelling around the world for food. He'd always liked the idea of getting a bunch of humans and letting them run for their lives while he got to pick them off one by one. Easy food and the thrill of the hunt. He grinned.

As he walked towards the door Drusilla stirred. Spike turned to look at her. She stretched her body sensually and slowly began to open her eyes to see him at the door. "Spike... it's dark..."
"I know, luv. It's night."
"No. Everything's dark. It's all around. I can see it." She jumped out of bed and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Things are in motion... I can only see darkness..."
"Well, once we get this spear thing there'll be darkness for everyone and you'll be the goddess of it all."

This seemed to make her happy. She smiled and released her grip on him, allowing him to get through the door. "I won't be long," he whispered as he kissed her on the cheek. "Have fun..."

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The summer was on its way but the air was still cold. Spike would have shivered if his body weren't permanently cold anyway. He walked through the nearly empty streets as the only remaining residents rushed to finish off their daily chores before the curfew. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down in case he was recognised by any of the random soldiers that patrolled the streets at this time of night.

He had been staying in the area for long enough to know the areas where demons were accepted. Ironically, in a time were you were considered suspicious if you weren't a pure blood, blonde haired, blue eyed Aryan, Germany seemed to be where a lot of demons found themselves. There was a certain abandoned bookshop that housed a den of all sorts of creatures just around the corner from his own place.

He looked around to make sure no one was spying on him and pushed the door open slightly before having the force of someone else behind it slamming it again. "Oh, bloody hell! It's me!" There was no reply. "Just let me in Harfan!" Spike knocked for the first time, a lot harder than he'd intended to. There was a loud "ow!" as the door flew open and a short, fat demon lay on the floor grasping his nose in pain.

"What'd you do that for?"
"To get in. You were holding the door shut."
"I was gonna ask you for the password."
"What password?"
Horfan stopped for a moment to think then realised. "Oh yeah."

Spike held his hand out and small demon took it. With one quick movement, the vampire had him pinned against the wall, his fangs open for display. "I get the impression you don't want me here," he frowned.

"Look, Spike..." he said in his deep Irish accent, an accent that currently really bugged Spike if only for the fact it reminded him of Angelus, "it's not personal or anything just... Well, some o' the boys are a little worried after what you did last night."
"What I did?"
"You brought a lot of attention to us by killing those Nazi-boys. We're not all that keen on having attention on us. Especially not the kind that could wind up with us being dead."

Spike let go and Harfan dropped down to the floor. The tall vampire stood over him, giving his most threatening scowl. "Mate, I've had enough of your little gang. Too bloody elitist for me. I've noticed there aren't any other vamps in there."
"They... uh.... They just never turn up. I... I don't know..."

There was a moment of silence while the small demon feared for his life. He looked up at his oppressor, clearly terrified. Then the atmosphere relaxed as Spike smile. "You know I'm just messing with your head."
"R-really?" The fear slowly subsided and was replaced by mock confidence. "I knew that."
"Sure you did." As Harfan got to his feet, Spike reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. The demon shakily offered a match without being asked. Spike lit up and inhaled deeply. "Anyway, you won't have to worry about me much after this. I know you still keep a few books around the place. I was wondering if you had anything on the, uh, the Spear of Destiny."

The Demon looked a little stunned. "The Spear of... oh my..."
"Heard of it then?"
"Enough about it to tell you to keep away. You're not going to get your hands on it."
"What makes you so sure?" Spike hated people telling him what he could and couldn't do, yet there was something in Harfan's eyes that said this was serious.
"Look, I've got some stuff on it but I really don't think..."
"Get it," Spike interrupted, pushing the demon the direction of some bookshelves.

Harfan looked through some shelves and pulled out a book. He quickly found the page and pointed to the section. "See? Just that it pierced the side of Christ... whoever owns it will have great power, the power to rule the world..."
"I know all this. Where is it now?"
Harfan looked up at him. "You really want to know?
"Do you really want to have your bloody eyes ripped out?"
"Okay, okay... This might not be pleasant but according some people I know, back in thirty-eight when Hitler annexed Austria he paid a visit to the Hofmuseum. He took the Spear and sent it straight to Nuremberg..."
"The spiritual capital of Nazi Germany," Spike noted, finishing his sentence. "So it's in Germany?"
"Without a doubt. If Hitler's really got it he ain't gonna let it go."
"Maybe I can do a bit of persuading. The bloke's only human... and I'm partial to persuading humans."

"Human..." Harfan mused, "may not be an entirely accurate way of putting it."
"What else have you conveniently forgotten to tell me?" Spike frowned.
"I'm not sure if you know... I mean, it's not public knowledge or anything... but the Nazis are pretty big on mysticism..."

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Spike left the demon haunt for what he hoped would be the last time. Harfan somehow managed to annoy him every time he went there whether it was for information or just a pint. He was beginning to think he would have to threaten the little spud just to get out of the place.

He thought over everything he'd been told. Those Nazis clearly knew more than he'd given them credit for. Obviously, by recruiting a demon like Grellik they weren't totally naïve but what he had just learnt was impressive nonetheless. Just after the Great War, Hitler, only a soldier back then, had become involved in the Occult, allowing himself to be trained in the Dark Arts. During Peyote-induced hallucination, he experienced past-life regression, and recognised himself as the reborn Landulf of Capua the Ninth Century Lord of Terra di Labur. Anticipating the rebirth of all the Holy Grail figures in the twentieth century, Hitler realised that he was to be the chalice for the Spirit of the Antichrist, the physical re-embodiment of the most dreaded personality in Christendom.

Quite frankly, Spike was impressed. The man was clearly a psychopath and didn't know what he was talking about but a madman with access to black magic was worse than anyone locked up in the various asylums in the world. "Clever bugger, that Hitler," he had told Harfan who went on to warn him against trying to get the Spear but it was a challenge and Spike always liked a challenge.

Now, perhaps, it was time for a snack. Drusilla would probably be wondering where he'd got to and what better way to make up to her than by bringing back someone to eat. This was, of course, a difficult task when the Nazi regime forced people into their houses at this time of night but that was part of the fun. He stayed on the side of the road that left him in the shadows as he looked up to see which houses still had lights on. He was sure he could charm his way into at least one of them.

Suddenly he realised that he was being followed. Spinning around to face the mysterious stalker he received a kick to the face. Staggering backwards he was able to maintain his balance and hold up his arms in time to block a serious of punches. "Hey! Hey! Calm down!"

Two hands came out of the darkness and grabbed his jacket by the collar and threw him out into the street. He looked up to see a girl coming out of the shadows, no older than eighteen, with a wooden stake in her hand ready to attack again. He suddenly knew what he was up against. "Slayer..." he hissed as he jumped back to his feet to avoid the thrust of the wooden instrument.

She said nothing as she stood waiting for him to attack first. He made a few moves forward to judge her reflexes but she didn't move. She knew he was playing with her. He began to walk circles around her, maintaining eye contact as he did. She scowled.

With a sudden burst of energy, Spike flew forward, his punch connecting with the Slayer's jaw. She tumbled backwards and he used this to push her to the floor. He was all over her in an instant, his fangs ready to sink into her neck. "I've always been partial about the occasional number two," he smiled as he prepared to bite. "Looks like that'll be you."

She struggled with him, trying to get him off but he was far too strong. "C'mon, pet, I love it when you struggle." She worked her right arm free and tried to reach for her stake while fending Spike off with the left. She got to her weapon and jabbed it in his side. He jumped off her in pain and pulled it out. "That bloody hurt!"

"It's not the only thing that will..." she replied. She was English. Must have been easy for the Watchers to find her right on their back door. She stood back a little, trying to work out his methods. He grimaced as he cradled his wound. This was going to be quite a challenge. The last Slayer had martial arts to help her, this one he had to admit, had attitude which surprised him considering what prudes English woman were these days.

He suddenly ran at her but she jumped up and somersaulted over his shoulders and landed behind him, kicking him into a wall. He turned around to realise he had a kitchen knife at his throat. He gave her a cocky smile. "How about you take that thing back where it belongs and make me a steak or something, luv." She thrust it into his throat until blood started coming own quickly. "Ow!" He pushed her back with his feet and followed up with a roundhouse kick to her face. It connected loudly as she staggered backwards holding her nose.

He took this as a chance to get her while she was weak. He threw her to the floor roughly. Blood was running from her broken nose as he came down on her with his fangs. She looked terrified. This was more like it.

The atmosphere was killed by a burning sensation at the back of his head. He swung his arm around and knocked back an old man holding a cross. "Get away from her," he threatened. Spike eyed him up. Dressed in tweed, obviously a Watcher.
"Maybe you should take more care of your girl," he smiled before making a run for it while he could. There'd be another time.

The Slayer struggled to get up and go after him but her Watcher held her back. "Elizabeth! No! Let him go."
"But he could..."
"He won't attack again tonight... and neither will you. Come... give yourself time to heal." He packed the cross away and put his arm around the girl.

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The door to the abandoned house was thrown open as Spike charged in. Drusilla had been waiting for him for hours. "We're going now. Pack all your things. We're getting the first freight train to Nuremberg!"

She looked at him accusingly. "You're hiding something, Spike."
He laughed it off. "What makes you think that, luv?"
"I can tell." Dru closed her eyes and swung backwards and forwards on the spot. "A girl. A strong girl. She beat you, Spike... You may be able to hide from the fair folk but not from me..."
He frowned. This defeat wasn't something he wanted to talk about. "Okay, okay. It was the Slayer. Not sure what she's doing here. Would've got her too if it wasn't for her Watcher."

Drusilla walked forward and held Spike's head. He could feel her cold skin on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. "You did a good thing. You made her bleed. She'll never forget that."
"You know how to say the right things," Spike said, taking her hands in his own. "If I meet her again, her blood's gonna do more than just trickle..."

He pulled away from her and looked around the room. "Better make a move before the sun comes up. We're going on a trip..."

Drusilla began to jump up and down excitedly. Spike put his arm around her waist and spun her around. "Not long and the world'll be ours..."

To be continued...