Part 0ne - Old Faces in New Places
Just on the outskirts of Sunnydale stood a bar. This bar was
different than any you and I know. Here, in this bar, you won't
find what you would expect to find in your normal everyday bar.
No. No drunk giving a soliloquy about all the wrongs in his life,
the reasons for his coming to 'this here bar' and getting drunk in
the first place. No man trying to pick up the hot girl in the seat
next to him, who would never go out with him anyway. Nope, no
humans here. Unless you count the menu. This was one of the many
demon bars scattered across the town. A place where the many demons
gather together to talk...well...demon talk. Most of this demon
talk was demons concocting plans to take the Slayer down or to end
the world. Most of these plans fail. Thanks to the Slayer and her
friends.
So here we are in this demon bar on the outskirts of Sunnydale,
home of the ever acclaimed (and feared) Slayer. It was a normal
night, or, as normal as it could get. There were your usual brawls
between pairs of demons who disagree over even the simplest thing.
Your typical entertainment of the torment of a poor stray human who
had unknowingly wondered into the bar.
The bar's door opened and in stepped a woman. Every demon stopped
and looked at her. They knew immediately she wasn't human. Because,
if she was, they would've snatched her up and add her to their menu
and/or entertainment. She looked around the room, as if searching
for someone. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. Her slim body was
encased in black tight leather. Sexy. She brushed back her long
brown wavy hair. She walked into the bar on tall spiked heels.
She gracefully approached the bartender.
His forked tongue slithered out his mouth. He was obviously
impressed by what he saw.
"What can I get ya, lovely lady?" he asked, eyeing her up and
down.
She ignored his wandering eyes. "Information. I need it. And I
heard you were just the guy to go to," she spoke in a British accent.
"Who told you that?" he asked in a smug voice.
The mysterious woman reached over the bar and grabbed his collar,
yanking him close, "I've no time for games."
"Okay. Okay. I'll give ya what you need."
She released her grip on him and he fell back. "What do you know
about the vampire Spike? Is he here? In Sunnydale?"
"Spike? Yeah, he's here in Sunnydale. But why you want to know
about him?"
She reached out and raked her sharp nails across his faced, leaving
deep gashes. "Nah-uh. I ask the questions here. Not you."
The bartender nodded, grasping his injury. "Yeah. Got it. Spike...
well... Spike's a traitor to his own kind. Works side by side with
the Slayer herself. Word out on the street is that he and the Slayer
are lovers."
The woman leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Thank you,"
before snapping his neck.
The other demons watched wordlessly as she moved toward the exit,
but not before grabbing one of the unfortunate humans, vamping out,
and feeding off him.
Spike walked through the cemetery, the cool wind billowing his long
leather duster, making it look like a cape behind him. He was alone,
though, originally, that wasn't the plan. He and Buffy had arranged
for a night of patrolling together. But that was before...well,
before that whole fiasco that involved him, Buffy, some flying insults
and fists, and resulting in the whole house falling down. She was
avoiding him. Giving him the cold shoulder whenever they crossed
paths. Trying to deny that night meant something. He sighed. Buffy
made him so damned frustrated. He never knew how she was going to react
to anything. So unpredictable. She blew his mind. Sometimes she made
him so angry, he wanted to kill her, and yet, at the same time, all he
wanted to do was hold her and make love to her. Spike shook his head.
I'm turning into a poof, he thought, becoming William again. Great,
just what he needed. Next, he'd be back to writing that horribly bad
love poetry.
Spike knew he should leave town. Before she really broke her heart
or he hers. He knew he told...well sang that he's her willing slave.
But that was before he got a taste of her. He wanted her to, if not
return, at least, accept his love for her. He wanted to try a real
relationship with her. Maybe, given time, she might even learn to
love him. He scoffed. He needed to stop dreaming. It was time to
face reality. She could never love an evil monster like him. And,
even if she did, it'd never work. She was a warrior of light and he
of darkness. She was the slayer of his kind and he of hers. They
were supposed to be mortal enemies. Not soul mates.
Spike stopped walking to light up a cigarette. This patrolling just
wasn't the same without Buffy. Now it was just plain boring. He
supposed he could go back to his crypt. But was dull there, too.
And cold and lonely.
He heard a rustle in the bushed nearby. Finally some action. Grinning,
he quietly and swiftly approached the sound. Stopping in front of the
bushes, he said, "You might as well come out, you know. I know you're
in there."
A man and a woman in their late teens to early twenties quietly and
meekly walked out from behind the bushes. Great, a couple making out
in a cemetery of all places, Spike thought. Couldn't find a better
place? They didn't come out alone, however. Behind them, a horde of
four vampires came out.
"Run," Spike said, reaching for his hidden stake.
"Wh-what?" the man asked.
"Just run."
The couple took off, leaving Spike alone with the vamps. Grinning, he
eyed the vampires. They bared their teeth and growled in what they hoped,
Spike guessed, would be a threatening manner. Spike just rolled his eyes
before launching himself at them.
He threw a punch at the closest one, a vamp who looked like a flashback
from the seventies. The vampire's head flew back from the blow. Though
he should have been, he wasn't prepared for the attack. The other three,
which included one looking like an eighties reject, a GQ model, and an
NFL quarterback, rushed to join the fight.
The quarterback ran at Spike, performing an almost perfect imitation
of a football player's tackle move, while Eighties Reject and GQ Model
circled around the back. Spike easily dodged the move and the quarterback
ended up tackling his colleagues instead. Spike smirked, watching the
trio squabble as they returned to their feet, before returning his attention
on Seventies Flashback, who had returned to the battle. Spike performed a
roundhouse kick, but the other vampire blocked it and punched him in return.
Spike's head flew back from the impact and he could taste blood. That
bastard had split his lip. Grinning evilly, Spike lashed out at the guy.
He returned the vamp's punch and, as he recoiled, Spike rammed his fist
into his stomach, causing him to keel over. Spike then spun the pained
vamp around and released him right into the arms of the others. They all
feel again and Spike couldn't help but laugh. He jumped into the pile and
started dusting. The fight was over in an instant. Piece of cake. Too
easy.
Dusting himself off, Spike returned his trusty old stake to his
pocket. He decided it was time to return to his crypt. Not like
she was going to show up anyway. 'Sides, sunrise would be coming
in a few hours... He quietly headed in the direction of his crypt.
As he got closer to home, Spike couldn't shake the feeling that he
was being watched. He stopped in his tracks. Looking around, he
didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean he was alone. Whoever or
whatever was stalking him could be hiding. And in a cemetery, there
were plenty of places to hide. Behind trees, bushes, tombstones,
other nearby mausoleums, perhaps even his own. One never knows.
"Hello?" Spike asked. Well, that was bloody brilliant, Spike
chided himself, let's let them know we know they're there so they
can take our head.
But no one came out behind the bushes, or trees, or tombstones,
or mausoleums. Not that he was really expecting them to. It
seemed he was, in fact, alone.
Shaking his head, Spike entered his crypt, determined to ignore
what his senses were trying to tell him.
And they weren't wrong. He was being watched. In the far bushes,
the mysterious woman from the bar stood, watching him. It had
been years, at least a hundred, since she had last seen him. He
looked mostly the same. What the hell did he do to his hair, she
wondered. She wanted to make her presence known, put her plan into
action, but it was too soon. She needed to observe him more.
Figure a few things out. After all, she couldn't allow her plan to
fail. Quietly, she slipped away into the shadows.
*****
Little William was five years old. Though he didn't know everything,
he did know that yesterday and today were different than most.
Yesterday, he didn't see his mummy for almost the whole day. Whenever
he tried to visit her in her bedroom, his daddy or Molly would take
him into the other room. He spent most of the day playing with his
nanny or daddy. In fact, they seemed to want to play more than he did.
Seemed like they were trying to distract him from his mum. That
confused him. But, their efforts failed when his mummy began to moan
and yell in pain. And that scared little William. He began to cry
because he was afraid for his mum. His nanny rushed in the bedroom
where his mother and another woman who William had never seen before.
He heard his father and Molly refer to her as a 'midwife' but he, being
only five years old, had no idea what that meant.
Since Molly left, his daddy was left alone with him. And he figured
out that the only way to quite William was to take him out of the house.
He took him out to the gardens where William could play his favorite
game with him: hide-and-seek. He loved playing it in the garden because
there were so many places to hide. Usually his daddy played with the
same enthusiasm as he, but not today. Daddy seemed nervous, agitated.
William didn't like playing with his daddy that day.
Today. Today was also different for him. Today, he hasn't seen
either Mum or Daddy. No one told him, but he had a feeling they
were in their bedroom. Every once in a while, William could hear
his mum crying. Why? Why was she crying? Why was she sad? It didn't
make sense to him. He knew he had to find out what was making his mum
cry. He just had to.
William peeked around the corner to the bedroom door at the end of
the corridor. It wasn't easy to get past Molly. She'd been watching
him like a hawk. But he succeeded. And he was proud of himself for
doing so. He focused his attention on the door. It looked cracked.
He quietly made his way to the door. His mum and daddy were talking.
He heard his mother sniffle. She was crying again.
"But you didn't see him, Elijah. He was so beautiful. Why did God
have to take him away from us? Why?" Kitty collapsed against her
husband, sobs racking her body. Elijah held her close. His eyes
were wet; it seemed he was trying desperately to be the strong one.
Kitty needed his support.
William backed away from the door. He was still confused. Who was
Mummy talking about? He thought long and hard until realization struck,
for he was a bright child after all. Yesterday his mum was trying to
bring his baby brother or sister into the world (he remembered his
parents informing him of the upcoming event. He had been ecstatic).
Judging from his mother's words, he was supposed to have a baby brother,
but he didn't live. Something horrible happened. Tears suddenly
pricked William's baby blue eyes. Now, he shared his mommy and daddy's
great sorrow. He wanted a brother to play with. And now...
*****
Spike jerked awake. He was dreaming about his childhood. But why?
And why the memory of finding out about his stillborn brother? He
ran his fingers through his mussed hair. Sure, he had dreams about
his past before, but those were usually about his pre-Buffy days.
Full of death and carnage and sex. Everything an evil vampire was
supposed to like. He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn't
really mean anything. No point in analyzing it now.
His vampiric senses told him he had about an hour till sundown. At
that time, he had to go to the magic shop to discuss the latest case
with the Scoobies. Of course, it wasn't Buffy who enlisted his help.
Surprisingly, it had been Xander. Spike never though he'd live to see
the day when the whelp would ask for his help. He agreed, of course.
Maybe Buffy would be there, as well. No, there was no maybe about it.
She would be there. He needed to talk to her. If she'll listen, that
is. She could be so stubborn.
He sighed. He had an hour to kill and no way to kill it. Not enough
time to go back to sleep. None of his soaps were on. Too late for
them. Spike was bored. He had to do something. Anything. He got
out of his bed, pulled on some pants, and went up to the upper level.
He sat in his ratty old chair in front of the telly, staring at it
blankly. Looking at his side, Spike noticed a book sitting on the
table. It was Dawn's. She must of left it on accident last time
she was over. He was surprised he never noticed it before. Must of
had other things on his mind.
He reached over and picked up the book. He smiled as he read the
cover. *The Once and Future King*. He remembered Dawn bitching about
having to read it for school and how dull it was going to be. But as
she started to read it, she was hooked. Apparently, it wasn't as
boring as she originally though. Spike, himself, had never read the
book. And, now, with nothing else to do, no time like the present.
And, when he goes to the magic shop, the book will give him the
perfect excuse to talk to Buffy, because, after all, Dawn needed
her book returned to her.
At sundown, Spike left his crypt, book in tow. He now saw why Dawn
was hooked. It really was a good book. Full of fantasy and magic.
Stuff to get the imagination revving.
With his senses always on alert, Spike felt someone following him.
It was the same feeling he had last night. Whoever or whatever it
was had returned. But whenever Spike looked around, he saw nothing
out of the ordinary. His stalker seemed to be an expert. Spike
tried to ignore the feeling as he made his way to the shop.
The lady vampire kept up the pace with Spike quite well. She
utilized all her superpowers she (and all vampires) possessed to
keep out of Spike's view (she had a feeling he could feel her
presence however, but that didn't stop her). Those powers were
something Spike so clearly ignored. She shook her head in disgust.
If he liked being a vampire so much, why didn't he use the powers he
was granted *because* he was a vampire? He was a complex person.
And she knew that it was time to discover how complex his relationships
could get. She just had to be patient, something she really wasn't
good at.
She followed him through the quiet streets and alleyways and was
surprised to see him enter the Magic Box. Why the hell was he going
to a magic shop, she wondered. Did he also dabble in the black arts?
That didn't fit with what she knew of him. She did know that his
sire Drusilla and grandsire Angelus liked to dabble occasionally.
Even Angelus' sire, Darla, was known to mess with the majiks. But
when did Spike?
Spike entered the shop quietly and took his customary seat at the
foot of the stairs. Anya was too busy with her money to pay him
any mind. Willow shortly diverted her attention away from her
laptop to give him a small smile. He smiled back in response.
"Thanks for coming, Spike," Xander said, looking up from the book
he had been researching.
"No problem. Say, uh, where's Buffy?" Spike asked, looking around
the magic shop.
As if on cue, Buffy returned from the training room. She noticed
Spike. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Buffy, I asked him to come. We've run out of ideas and figured
it's time for some fresh brains," Xander said.
She pointed to Spike, "But why his?"
"Hello to you, too, Slayer," Spike said, smirking at her.
She looked at him with revulsion written on her face.
Spike decided to just ignore her for the time being and focus his
attentions on why Xander asked him to be there.
"So, why did you call me here?"
"Oh, we need your help to find a frost demon who seems to have a
certain fondness for diamonds."
"Yeah, big ones," Anya added from the counter.
Spike gawked at them, "A frost demon who likes diamonds? You've
gotta be kidding me."
Xander shrugged, "That's all we can come up with."
"Did you ever think that maybe it's a *human* who likes diamonds
and summoned a frost demon, if there is such a thing, to do his
dirty work?"
Xander picked up a leather-bound book beside him and tossed it
to Spike who caught it easily. "Well, either way, start searching."
Spike grumbled a bit but opened the book anyway.
The woman watched through the window. Her enhanced hearing allowed
her to hear every word.
He does research? Helps these puny humans? My, what a great loser
he's become now, trying to turn his back on his own kind. Doesn't
he know his attempts are futile? And who the hell ever heard of a
'frost demon?'
All the Scoobies (minus Dawn; she was spending the night with her
friend Janice) were huddled around the table. Xander sat back and
rolled his neck around, hearing several pops.
"Man, this stuff is boring."
He earned several grunts of agreement.
"Hey, guys, I think I found something," Willow said, reading the
information on her laptop. "The diamond that was stolen is called
the Illuminata. It's rumored to have certain mystical powers."
"Well, that would explain why someone stole it. But who?" Anya
asked.
"What kind of mystical powers?" Buffy asked.
Willow read further, "It doesn't say."
Buffy grunted, disappointed, then stood up, "Well, I'm going to
take a little break and go on a quick patrol. Coming, Spike?"
Now could be his chance to talk. "Sure, love."
As she walked toward the door, she said, "I thought I told you to
stop calling me that."
He followed her, "Well, you know me. I never listen."
Spike's mysterious stalker had enough time to get out of view; she
jumped to the roof. Up there, she could easily follow and not worry
about being caught. She watched the Slayer exit, heading toward
the cemeteries, with Spike behind her. She saw love and admiration
flicker across Spike's eyes as he trailed Buffy. She was disgusted.
She pursued them into an alley. That's when Spike spoke.
"Buffy, we need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you," the Slayer said as she continued on.
But Spike stopped her, "Well, I do."
Buffy turned to face him, crossing her arms. "So, talk already."
Spike sighed, "Buffy, the other night-"
She turned to walk away, "I don't need to hear this."
Spike grabbed her arms and forced her to stop. "Yes, I already
know your opinion. 'Big mistake.' 'Never happen again.' Blah,
blah, blah. Well, you've had your say, Slayer. Now it's my turn."
She glared at him, anger coming off her in waves. She didn't stop
him however and that gave Spike the courage to go on. He took a
deep unneeded breath and stepped closer to her.
"Buffy, I had been waiting for that night to come. I've waited
for years. But, in all honesty, I was hoping it would be because
you loved me and not because...whatever your reason was. But
regardless of your reasons, I *know* you felt something."
She shook her head, ready to interrupt him, but he beat her to it.
"Yes, I know. All your feel is seething hatred and revulsion for
me. Or so you keep telling me and everyone else. But, ask yourself
this, if you really truly despise me, why do it?"
She looked up at him, defiantly. She wasn't going to answer him.
He didn't need to know he was right. She couldn't hear this, not
right now. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Why did he have
to question everything?
"Buffy, I love-"
She held up her hand, "No. No, you don't. You don't love me, Spike.
You can't, even if you wanted to. All you feel is obsession and lust."
Spike was hurt. Why did she always have to do this? Insist he
didn't love her. That he couldn't love her. That he had no feelings
at all. What did she know?
"Fine. Okay. I'm horny for you. What's your excuse?"
"Spike, please, just shut up," she requested, moving closer.
"Why can't you just drop it? I can't deal with this right now."
"When are you going to? Deal?"
She shrugged, a sign she didn't know, "I know that, right now,
I don't want to talk."
Spike sighed, "What do you want to do then?"
She leaned in and kissed him. Spike tried not to, but he found
himself responding to her kiss, in more ways than one. She pushed
him against the wall and pressed herself against him. Pulling
away, she grinned, "Seems like little Spikey here wants to do
something more than talk, too"
She started to reach for the fly of his jeans. Spike pushed her
eager hands away, "Buffy, please. I can't do this anymore. Not
until you admit some-"
She didn't let him finish before she kissed him again. She reached
for his fly again and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.
She grinned again.
The woman watched this exchange between Vampire and Slayer. He
loved her. From his action, it seemed he really loved her. Truly.
Madly. Deeply. But Buffy. It seemed she was only interested in
taking advantage of those feelings. She watched as Buffy finally
worked Spike up enough that he was now an eager participant in their
rather crude display.
Perhaps this was the key. She now knew of his relationships with
the Slayer and her friends. She could use this to her advantage.
It was time to put her plan into action. Starting tonight. No
more waiting.
Spike entered his crypt. He was alone. And disgusted with himself.
He wasn't supposed to fold like that. He couldn't handle doing this
anymore. Buffy was using him. He knew it. He tried to fight it.
But she had him firmly in her grasp. There was no escaping. He
supposed he could leave town. But quickly scratched that idea.
He knew he'd never really be able to go through with it.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the book. Damn, knew I
forgot something, he thought.
Spike realized quickly, as he entered, that something was out of
place. He sniffed the air. Someone was there. In his crypt.
"Hello?" he asked.
He heard someone moving around in the dark. He heard a feminine
voice saying some sort of spell. And suddenly Spike was on the
floor, unconscious.
The mysterious woman stepped out of the shadows. She was glad
she remembered the words to the spell. She didn't want to take
the chance that he would see her. It'd ruin the plan. She looked
at his unconscious form. She had to take him out of here and to
her temporary residence. She bent down and easily lifted him into
her strong arms. She marched out into the night.
End Part One
Just on the outskirts of Sunnydale stood a bar. This bar was
different than any you and I know. Here, in this bar, you won't
find what you would expect to find in your normal everyday bar.
No. No drunk giving a soliloquy about all the wrongs in his life,
the reasons for his coming to 'this here bar' and getting drunk in
the first place. No man trying to pick up the hot girl in the seat
next to him, who would never go out with him anyway. Nope, no
humans here. Unless you count the menu. This was one of the many
demon bars scattered across the town. A place where the many demons
gather together to talk...well...demon talk. Most of this demon
talk was demons concocting plans to take the Slayer down or to end
the world. Most of these plans fail. Thanks to the Slayer and her
friends.
So here we are in this demon bar on the outskirts of Sunnydale,
home of the ever acclaimed (and feared) Slayer. It was a normal
night, or, as normal as it could get. There were your usual brawls
between pairs of demons who disagree over even the simplest thing.
Your typical entertainment of the torment of a poor stray human who
had unknowingly wondered into the bar.
The bar's door opened and in stepped a woman. Every demon stopped
and looked at her. They knew immediately she wasn't human. Because,
if she was, they would've snatched her up and add her to their menu
and/or entertainment. She looked around the room, as if searching
for someone. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. Her slim body was
encased in black tight leather. Sexy. She brushed back her long
brown wavy hair. She walked into the bar on tall spiked heels.
She gracefully approached the bartender.
His forked tongue slithered out his mouth. He was obviously
impressed by what he saw.
"What can I get ya, lovely lady?" he asked, eyeing her up and
down.
She ignored his wandering eyes. "Information. I need it. And I
heard you were just the guy to go to," she spoke in a British accent.
"Who told you that?" he asked in a smug voice.
The mysterious woman reached over the bar and grabbed his collar,
yanking him close, "I've no time for games."
"Okay. Okay. I'll give ya what you need."
She released her grip on him and he fell back. "What do you know
about the vampire Spike? Is he here? In Sunnydale?"
"Spike? Yeah, he's here in Sunnydale. But why you want to know
about him?"
She reached out and raked her sharp nails across his faced, leaving
deep gashes. "Nah-uh. I ask the questions here. Not you."
The bartender nodded, grasping his injury. "Yeah. Got it. Spike...
well... Spike's a traitor to his own kind. Works side by side with
the Slayer herself. Word out on the street is that he and the Slayer
are lovers."
The woman leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Thank you,"
before snapping his neck.
The other demons watched wordlessly as she moved toward the exit,
but not before grabbing one of the unfortunate humans, vamping out,
and feeding off him.
Spike walked through the cemetery, the cool wind billowing his long
leather duster, making it look like a cape behind him. He was alone,
though, originally, that wasn't the plan. He and Buffy had arranged
for a night of patrolling together. But that was before...well,
before that whole fiasco that involved him, Buffy, some flying insults
and fists, and resulting in the whole house falling down. She was
avoiding him. Giving him the cold shoulder whenever they crossed
paths. Trying to deny that night meant something. He sighed. Buffy
made him so damned frustrated. He never knew how she was going to react
to anything. So unpredictable. She blew his mind. Sometimes she made
him so angry, he wanted to kill her, and yet, at the same time, all he
wanted to do was hold her and make love to her. Spike shook his head.
I'm turning into a poof, he thought, becoming William again. Great,
just what he needed. Next, he'd be back to writing that horribly bad
love poetry.
Spike knew he should leave town. Before she really broke her heart
or he hers. He knew he told...well sang that he's her willing slave.
But that was before he got a taste of her. He wanted her to, if not
return, at least, accept his love for her. He wanted to try a real
relationship with her. Maybe, given time, she might even learn to
love him. He scoffed. He needed to stop dreaming. It was time to
face reality. She could never love an evil monster like him. And,
even if she did, it'd never work. She was a warrior of light and he
of darkness. She was the slayer of his kind and he of hers. They
were supposed to be mortal enemies. Not soul mates.
Spike stopped walking to light up a cigarette. This patrolling just
wasn't the same without Buffy. Now it was just plain boring. He
supposed he could go back to his crypt. But was dull there, too.
And cold and lonely.
He heard a rustle in the bushed nearby. Finally some action. Grinning,
he quietly and swiftly approached the sound. Stopping in front of the
bushes, he said, "You might as well come out, you know. I know you're
in there."
A man and a woman in their late teens to early twenties quietly and
meekly walked out from behind the bushes. Great, a couple making out
in a cemetery of all places, Spike thought. Couldn't find a better
place? They didn't come out alone, however. Behind them, a horde of
four vampires came out.
"Run," Spike said, reaching for his hidden stake.
"Wh-what?" the man asked.
"Just run."
The couple took off, leaving Spike alone with the vamps. Grinning, he
eyed the vampires. They bared their teeth and growled in what they hoped,
Spike guessed, would be a threatening manner. Spike just rolled his eyes
before launching himself at them.
He threw a punch at the closest one, a vamp who looked like a flashback
from the seventies. The vampire's head flew back from the blow. Though
he should have been, he wasn't prepared for the attack. The other three,
which included one looking like an eighties reject, a GQ model, and an
NFL quarterback, rushed to join the fight.
The quarterback ran at Spike, performing an almost perfect imitation
of a football player's tackle move, while Eighties Reject and GQ Model
circled around the back. Spike easily dodged the move and the quarterback
ended up tackling his colleagues instead. Spike smirked, watching the
trio squabble as they returned to their feet, before returning his attention
on Seventies Flashback, who had returned to the battle. Spike performed a
roundhouse kick, but the other vampire blocked it and punched him in return.
Spike's head flew back from the impact and he could taste blood. That
bastard had split his lip. Grinning evilly, Spike lashed out at the guy.
He returned the vamp's punch and, as he recoiled, Spike rammed his fist
into his stomach, causing him to keel over. Spike then spun the pained
vamp around and released him right into the arms of the others. They all
feel again and Spike couldn't help but laugh. He jumped into the pile and
started dusting. The fight was over in an instant. Piece of cake. Too
easy.
Dusting himself off, Spike returned his trusty old stake to his
pocket. He decided it was time to return to his crypt. Not like
she was going to show up anyway. 'Sides, sunrise would be coming
in a few hours... He quietly headed in the direction of his crypt.
As he got closer to home, Spike couldn't shake the feeling that he
was being watched. He stopped in his tracks. Looking around, he
didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean he was alone. Whoever or
whatever was stalking him could be hiding. And in a cemetery, there
were plenty of places to hide. Behind trees, bushes, tombstones,
other nearby mausoleums, perhaps even his own. One never knows.
"Hello?" Spike asked. Well, that was bloody brilliant, Spike
chided himself, let's let them know we know they're there so they
can take our head.
But no one came out behind the bushes, or trees, or tombstones,
or mausoleums. Not that he was really expecting them to. It
seemed he was, in fact, alone.
Shaking his head, Spike entered his crypt, determined to ignore
what his senses were trying to tell him.
And they weren't wrong. He was being watched. In the far bushes,
the mysterious woman from the bar stood, watching him. It had
been years, at least a hundred, since she had last seen him. He
looked mostly the same. What the hell did he do to his hair, she
wondered. She wanted to make her presence known, put her plan into
action, but it was too soon. She needed to observe him more.
Figure a few things out. After all, she couldn't allow her plan to
fail. Quietly, she slipped away into the shadows.
*****
Little William was five years old. Though he didn't know everything,
he did know that yesterday and today were different than most.
Yesterday, he didn't see his mummy for almost the whole day. Whenever
he tried to visit her in her bedroom, his daddy or Molly would take
him into the other room. He spent most of the day playing with his
nanny or daddy. In fact, they seemed to want to play more than he did.
Seemed like they were trying to distract him from his mum. That
confused him. But, their efforts failed when his mummy began to moan
and yell in pain. And that scared little William. He began to cry
because he was afraid for his mum. His nanny rushed in the bedroom
where his mother and another woman who William had never seen before.
He heard his father and Molly refer to her as a 'midwife' but he, being
only five years old, had no idea what that meant.
Since Molly left, his daddy was left alone with him. And he figured
out that the only way to quite William was to take him out of the house.
He took him out to the gardens where William could play his favorite
game with him: hide-and-seek. He loved playing it in the garden because
there were so many places to hide. Usually his daddy played with the
same enthusiasm as he, but not today. Daddy seemed nervous, agitated.
William didn't like playing with his daddy that day.
Today. Today was also different for him. Today, he hasn't seen
either Mum or Daddy. No one told him, but he had a feeling they
were in their bedroom. Every once in a while, William could hear
his mum crying. Why? Why was she crying? Why was she sad? It didn't
make sense to him. He knew he had to find out what was making his mum
cry. He just had to.
William peeked around the corner to the bedroom door at the end of
the corridor. It wasn't easy to get past Molly. She'd been watching
him like a hawk. But he succeeded. And he was proud of himself for
doing so. He focused his attention on the door. It looked cracked.
He quietly made his way to the door. His mum and daddy were talking.
He heard his mother sniffle. She was crying again.
"But you didn't see him, Elijah. He was so beautiful. Why did God
have to take him away from us? Why?" Kitty collapsed against her
husband, sobs racking her body. Elijah held her close. His eyes
were wet; it seemed he was trying desperately to be the strong one.
Kitty needed his support.
William backed away from the door. He was still confused. Who was
Mummy talking about? He thought long and hard until realization struck,
for he was a bright child after all. Yesterday his mum was trying to
bring his baby brother or sister into the world (he remembered his
parents informing him of the upcoming event. He had been ecstatic).
Judging from his mother's words, he was supposed to have a baby brother,
but he didn't live. Something horrible happened. Tears suddenly
pricked William's baby blue eyes. Now, he shared his mommy and daddy's
great sorrow. He wanted a brother to play with. And now...
*****
Spike jerked awake. He was dreaming about his childhood. But why?
And why the memory of finding out about his stillborn brother? He
ran his fingers through his mussed hair. Sure, he had dreams about
his past before, but those were usually about his pre-Buffy days.
Full of death and carnage and sex. Everything an evil vampire was
supposed to like. He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn't
really mean anything. No point in analyzing it now.
His vampiric senses told him he had about an hour till sundown. At
that time, he had to go to the magic shop to discuss the latest case
with the Scoobies. Of course, it wasn't Buffy who enlisted his help.
Surprisingly, it had been Xander. Spike never though he'd live to see
the day when the whelp would ask for his help. He agreed, of course.
Maybe Buffy would be there, as well. No, there was no maybe about it.
She would be there. He needed to talk to her. If she'll listen, that
is. She could be so stubborn.
He sighed. He had an hour to kill and no way to kill it. Not enough
time to go back to sleep. None of his soaps were on. Too late for
them. Spike was bored. He had to do something. Anything. He got
out of his bed, pulled on some pants, and went up to the upper level.
He sat in his ratty old chair in front of the telly, staring at it
blankly. Looking at his side, Spike noticed a book sitting on the
table. It was Dawn's. She must of left it on accident last time
she was over. He was surprised he never noticed it before. Must of
had other things on his mind.
He reached over and picked up the book. He smiled as he read the
cover. *The Once and Future King*. He remembered Dawn bitching about
having to read it for school and how dull it was going to be. But as
she started to read it, she was hooked. Apparently, it wasn't as
boring as she originally though. Spike, himself, had never read the
book. And, now, with nothing else to do, no time like the present.
And, when he goes to the magic shop, the book will give him the
perfect excuse to talk to Buffy, because, after all, Dawn needed
her book returned to her.
At sundown, Spike left his crypt, book in tow. He now saw why Dawn
was hooked. It really was a good book. Full of fantasy and magic.
Stuff to get the imagination revving.
With his senses always on alert, Spike felt someone following him.
It was the same feeling he had last night. Whoever or whatever it
was had returned. But whenever Spike looked around, he saw nothing
out of the ordinary. His stalker seemed to be an expert. Spike
tried to ignore the feeling as he made his way to the shop.
The lady vampire kept up the pace with Spike quite well. She
utilized all her superpowers she (and all vampires) possessed to
keep out of Spike's view (she had a feeling he could feel her
presence however, but that didn't stop her). Those powers were
something Spike so clearly ignored. She shook her head in disgust.
If he liked being a vampire so much, why didn't he use the powers he
was granted *because* he was a vampire? He was a complex person.
And she knew that it was time to discover how complex his relationships
could get. She just had to be patient, something she really wasn't
good at.
She followed him through the quiet streets and alleyways and was
surprised to see him enter the Magic Box. Why the hell was he going
to a magic shop, she wondered. Did he also dabble in the black arts?
That didn't fit with what she knew of him. She did know that his
sire Drusilla and grandsire Angelus liked to dabble occasionally.
Even Angelus' sire, Darla, was known to mess with the majiks. But
when did Spike?
Spike entered the shop quietly and took his customary seat at the
foot of the stairs. Anya was too busy with her money to pay him
any mind. Willow shortly diverted her attention away from her
laptop to give him a small smile. He smiled back in response.
"Thanks for coming, Spike," Xander said, looking up from the book
he had been researching.
"No problem. Say, uh, where's Buffy?" Spike asked, looking around
the magic shop.
As if on cue, Buffy returned from the training room. She noticed
Spike. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Buffy, I asked him to come. We've run out of ideas and figured
it's time for some fresh brains," Xander said.
She pointed to Spike, "But why his?"
"Hello to you, too, Slayer," Spike said, smirking at her.
She looked at him with revulsion written on her face.
Spike decided to just ignore her for the time being and focus his
attentions on why Xander asked him to be there.
"So, why did you call me here?"
"Oh, we need your help to find a frost demon who seems to have a
certain fondness for diamonds."
"Yeah, big ones," Anya added from the counter.
Spike gawked at them, "A frost demon who likes diamonds? You've
gotta be kidding me."
Xander shrugged, "That's all we can come up with."
"Did you ever think that maybe it's a *human* who likes diamonds
and summoned a frost demon, if there is such a thing, to do his
dirty work?"
Xander picked up a leather-bound book beside him and tossed it
to Spike who caught it easily. "Well, either way, start searching."
Spike grumbled a bit but opened the book anyway.
The woman watched through the window. Her enhanced hearing allowed
her to hear every word.
He does research? Helps these puny humans? My, what a great loser
he's become now, trying to turn his back on his own kind. Doesn't
he know his attempts are futile? And who the hell ever heard of a
'frost demon?'
All the Scoobies (minus Dawn; she was spending the night with her
friend Janice) were huddled around the table. Xander sat back and
rolled his neck around, hearing several pops.
"Man, this stuff is boring."
He earned several grunts of agreement.
"Hey, guys, I think I found something," Willow said, reading the
information on her laptop. "The diamond that was stolen is called
the Illuminata. It's rumored to have certain mystical powers."
"Well, that would explain why someone stole it. But who?" Anya
asked.
"What kind of mystical powers?" Buffy asked.
Willow read further, "It doesn't say."
Buffy grunted, disappointed, then stood up, "Well, I'm going to
take a little break and go on a quick patrol. Coming, Spike?"
Now could be his chance to talk. "Sure, love."
As she walked toward the door, she said, "I thought I told you to
stop calling me that."
He followed her, "Well, you know me. I never listen."
Spike's mysterious stalker had enough time to get out of view; she
jumped to the roof. Up there, she could easily follow and not worry
about being caught. She watched the Slayer exit, heading toward
the cemeteries, with Spike behind her. She saw love and admiration
flicker across Spike's eyes as he trailed Buffy. She was disgusted.
She pursued them into an alley. That's when Spike spoke.
"Buffy, we need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you," the Slayer said as she continued on.
But Spike stopped her, "Well, I do."
Buffy turned to face him, crossing her arms. "So, talk already."
Spike sighed, "Buffy, the other night-"
She turned to walk away, "I don't need to hear this."
Spike grabbed her arms and forced her to stop. "Yes, I already
know your opinion. 'Big mistake.' 'Never happen again.' Blah,
blah, blah. Well, you've had your say, Slayer. Now it's my turn."
She glared at him, anger coming off her in waves. She didn't stop
him however and that gave Spike the courage to go on. He took a
deep unneeded breath and stepped closer to her.
"Buffy, I had been waiting for that night to come. I've waited
for years. But, in all honesty, I was hoping it would be because
you loved me and not because...whatever your reason was. But
regardless of your reasons, I *know* you felt something."
She shook her head, ready to interrupt him, but he beat her to it.
"Yes, I know. All your feel is seething hatred and revulsion for
me. Or so you keep telling me and everyone else. But, ask yourself
this, if you really truly despise me, why do it?"
She looked up at him, defiantly. She wasn't going to answer him.
He didn't need to know he was right. She couldn't hear this, not
right now. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Why did he have
to question everything?
"Buffy, I love-"
She held up her hand, "No. No, you don't. You don't love me, Spike.
You can't, even if you wanted to. All you feel is obsession and lust."
Spike was hurt. Why did she always have to do this? Insist he
didn't love her. That he couldn't love her. That he had no feelings
at all. What did she know?
"Fine. Okay. I'm horny for you. What's your excuse?"
"Spike, please, just shut up," she requested, moving closer.
"Why can't you just drop it? I can't deal with this right now."
"When are you going to? Deal?"
She shrugged, a sign she didn't know, "I know that, right now,
I don't want to talk."
Spike sighed, "What do you want to do then?"
She leaned in and kissed him. Spike tried not to, but he found
himself responding to her kiss, in more ways than one. She pushed
him against the wall and pressed herself against him. Pulling
away, she grinned, "Seems like little Spikey here wants to do
something more than talk, too"
She started to reach for the fly of his jeans. Spike pushed her
eager hands away, "Buffy, please. I can't do this anymore. Not
until you admit some-"
She didn't let him finish before she kissed him again. She reached
for his fly again and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.
She grinned again.
The woman watched this exchange between Vampire and Slayer. He
loved her. From his action, it seemed he really loved her. Truly.
Madly. Deeply. But Buffy. It seemed she was only interested in
taking advantage of those feelings. She watched as Buffy finally
worked Spike up enough that he was now an eager participant in their
rather crude display.
Perhaps this was the key. She now knew of his relationships with
the Slayer and her friends. She could use this to her advantage.
It was time to put her plan into action. Starting tonight. No
more waiting.
Spike entered his crypt. He was alone. And disgusted with himself.
He wasn't supposed to fold like that. He couldn't handle doing this
anymore. Buffy was using him. He knew it. He tried to fight it.
But she had him firmly in her grasp. There was no escaping. He
supposed he could leave town. But quickly scratched that idea.
He knew he'd never really be able to go through with it.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the book. Damn, knew I
forgot something, he thought.
Spike realized quickly, as he entered, that something was out of
place. He sniffed the air. Someone was there. In his crypt.
"Hello?" he asked.
He heard someone moving around in the dark. He heard a feminine
voice saying some sort of spell. And suddenly Spike was on the
floor, unconscious.
The mysterious woman stepped out of the shadows. She was glad
she remembered the words to the spell. She didn't want to take
the chance that he would see her. It'd ruin the plan. She looked
at his unconscious form. She had to take him out of here and to
her temporary residence. She bent down and easily lifted him into
her strong arms. She marched out into the night.
End Part One