They ran into the next room.  Xander was already at the door on the far side.  He grabbed the handle and immediately recoiled, swearing and shaking his right hand.

"Hold still," said Willow, trying to get a better look at his hand.  The smell of burnt flesh made her gag.  His fingertips showed small blisters.  She turned to Tara asking, "Can you?"

"I… I would, but we need to get out of here," said Tara, pointing at the smoke pouring in from under the door.

Shaking Willow loose, Xander said "But Anya's through there.  I won't abandon her again."  He shrugged his jacket off, trying to wrap it around the door handle.

"Wait! That's the direction we came from."  They all looked at Buffy questioningly.  "This room, I recognize it from about five rooms back."

"How?" Xander's voice cracked.  "They must have come this way."

"Not if we missed another door in previous room."  Buffy's mouth was set in a tight line.  "Time to backtrack - carefully."

Buffy led the way back through the door, anticipating Drusilla's attack.  The room was empty and Buffy made a beeline for a wall.  Tara joined her in looking for a hidden door.

 "We need to wrap your hand,"  Willow said to Xander, stopping him from searching.  He handed Willow his jacket, but she shook her head.  "Too dirty."  She looked down at her skirt and then stepped out of her slip, wrapping it loosely around his hand.  Cupping his hand, she looked up at him.  "Be careful.  We need you in one piece."

Tara glanced over at Willow and Xander.  In a low voice she said to Buffy, "This place is a tinderbox."

"I know."

"Fire has a life of its own.  I, I can't protect us from it."

"Okay."  Buffy continued to run her hands along the walls.  Tara set her hand lightly on Buffy's arm.  Buffy stood still looking straight at the wall, palms flat against it.  She closed and opened her eyes.  "You're right.  If we don't find the door in the next room, we'll leave.  We can't help Anya or Giles if we're crispy chips."

*****

Spike lit a cigarette and took a drag.  Then, with cigarette still in hand, he ran his thumb along the back of his neck, asking himself why exactly he had gotten involved in something that didn't directly concern him.  How was he going to get them out of this rabbit hole, especially when Dru was mad as a hatter?  Biding his time just a bit longer, he exhaled the smoke slowly.

He hopped off the crate and sauntered toward them.  "This is where you say 'hello Spike, how are things in Sunnydale?'  No?  What's wrong luv, cat got your tongue?"

Anya pushed backward with her feet and elbows, inching toward Spike, never taking her eyes off of Dru.

Dru's eyes narrowed.  Her hands were straight at her sides as she ran her thumbs along the sharp tips of her fingernails.  "Get out," she hissed.  "Find your chariot and get out."

Spike pursed his lips.  Yep, no use trying the logical argument on Dru.  "Right, need to be on my way soon.  But there must be time for a cuppa tea and a little reminiscing?"  He gave her his best boyish smile.

"A fool with his cups.  You weren't invited to the party."  In a fluid motion, Dru moved forward, bringing the ball of her foot down on Anya's windpipe.  Anya's cry twisted into a gurgle as she clawed at Drusilla's leg.

Spike stopped, palms up.  There goes trying sweet talk.   "Didn't know family needed an invitation," he said as he took another drag.

"Family?"  She echoed.  "I've no family.  Who are you?"

Smoke came out of his nose as he thought, Other vamps, they got sired by stable, reasonably sane vampires.  But no, I'm the creation of a couple generations of loons.  Aloud and looking at Dru he said,  "You're sore because you think I forgot your birthday, aren't ya?  Well, I didn't.  I've got a present," he nodded behind himself, "right over there."

Dru's eyes lit up.  "A gift?"

Spike took another drag, using his hand to cover the smirk on his face.  Good girl.

"How 'bout you take your foot off Missy Warbucks and I'll get the gift?"

Dru's eyes narrowed. "How do I know it's not a trick?  Water's thicker than blood for you."

"No tricks luv.  Honest.  Just a treat."

Suspicion and curiosity played back and forth across her face.  Her foot eased up and Anya gasped.

"It's getting a bit smoky in here.  Now or never for your gift…" coaxed Spike.

Drusilla reached down and in a blink Anya found herself staring into Drusilla's blood red lips.  Anya willed herself to do nothing to let Dru know how painful the grip around her forearms was, but she couldn't stop the rapid pounding of her heart.

Spike's voice was a sing-song of temptation and flattery.  "Leave her, Pet.  Come, come see the pretty I've brought for you." 

Despite the glee of her anticipation and the dazed look in her eye, Dru wasn't ready to be fooled by Spike.  She knew him as well as he knew her.  "You give me the gift, and if I like it, I'll give you the girl," Dru counteroffered, dropping Anya into a wooden chair, firmly pressing her into the seat.

Spike reached back with his right hand and pulled out a dented breadbox sized tin.  "Now Pet, you of all people know I wasn't born yesterday.  How 'bout I show you your present and if you like it," he said as he ran his hand across the latch, "I get the little shop girl."

"This better be a damn good gift," Anya muttered under her breath.

"Oh it is," said Spike with a smile.  "Dru knows what's in here, don't you?"

"It was a bitter night when we buried her.  Angelus held an umbrella over me and you dug the grave," Drusilla recalled in a singsong voice.

Spike's smile soured.  "Held you a bit closer than necessary, if you ask me."

"Just to keep the rain off and to console me, pet."

"That's what you're calling it now, consoling?"

Anya interrupted, "So something that's been dead for over a hundred years is in that box?  My value is equivalent to that!?  This is a rotten plan."

"I should wash your mouth out with soap and water," said Drusilla.  "She's worth five of you.  Please Spike, show me Miss Lilith."

The metal screeched as the tight hinges were coaxed apart. Spike tipped the box up, dirt fell away from the outside.  Inside was a delicate doll with violet eyes framed in dark lashes and a head of dark curls, nestled in a satin lining with a sprig of dried flowers laying across her chest.  Drusilla clapped her hands together and Spike slammed the lid shut.  Their eyes locked.  Spike nodded toward Anya and drummed his fingers lightly on the box.    

In the tight silence Anya could hear the crackling sound of flames on dry wood.  She hoped that the roaring sound was the blood rushing in her ears and not the fire.  She bit her lip to keep from screaming or worse yet, babbling about how the doll was certainly a priceless collector's item in pristine condition and would fetch quite a price.

Without warning, Drusilla grabbed Anya by the nape of her neck and hauled her to her feet.  "Go," she hissed.  "Go now."

For a moment, Anya couldn't feel her legs, but she moved forward anyway as Spike set the box on the ground.  Then the pinpricks of pain kicked in and Anya stumbled.  Spike caught her under her arms and scooped her up.  He gave Drusilla a bright smile, "See, that wasn't so bad now was it?"

*****

Buffy hated to admit it, but Drusilla had eluded them.  The search for a secret door in this room had been as unsuccessful as the other.  She turned toward the group, "The haze is getting thicker.  We're going to have to leave.  Hold on to the person in front of you and let's hope we can still get out the way we came in."

"You go ahead, I'm not leaving without Anya," said Xander as he continued to work the floor.

"Xander, it's too dangerous," said Willow.

Xander said nothing and began rechecking a stretch of wall.

Tara stepped up.  "I hate to mention this, but they may not even be in the building anymore.  Fire is to vampires what a cat is to mice."

After a moment, Xander's shoulder's sagged.  "You're right."

"Tara, we might need another of your fire spells, so you take the lead.  I'll bring up the rear," said Buffy, wanting to ensure that Xander didn't try anything rash.

Xander knew what Buffy was thinking and over his shoulder he said, "You know, if there had been more fire/vamp, cat/mice analogies on the SAT, I would have scored a lot higher."

*****

Spike moved quickly to the metal ladder in the corner of the room.  Looking at Anya he asked, "Got your sea legs back?  We gotta go up."

"Up?  How is being on the roof of a burning building going to help us?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Anya looked at him blankly.  "Didn't think so."

Anya moved toward the ladder.  Spike held her back, eyeing her over before pulling on the ladder, loosening the lower bolts.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Anya.  For a moment she just looked at him, "You expect me to climb it now that it's hanging on by imagination?"

"No worries.  I'll hold it down here.  That should help steady it. Now go ahead and climb."

Anya racked her brain, trying to think of an alternative.  None were springing to mind.  So she moved up the ladder, aware of it shaking with every step. 

Spike looked over his shoulder and saw Drusilla cradling the doll in her arms.  Through the crack under the door behind her, he saw the shadow and light of the fire dancing.  He looked up at Anya, "Could you pick up the pace, luv?"

"Doing the best I can, given the ladder's a little loose," replied Anya through clenched teeth.  Calling on every ounce of energy left in her, she picked up her speed.  "Smoothly, smoothly," she said to herself. 

At the top, the trapdoor was closed.  She pushed on the handle, fearing it would be tight.  Instead it gave easily, throwing her off balance.  Recovering, she climbed out onto the roof and the damp night air.  She lay there for a moment, catching her breath.  Then she moved toward the opening to call to Spike, but he was already pulling himself through the opening.  Lying flat on the roof, he leaned in and yanked on the ladder, pulling it loose and lifting it out.  Furrowing his brow, he used his hands to bend the wall brace until it curved into a "U" shape.  It fit over the lip of the roof sufficiently, but was about nine feet short of the ground.

"Oh, bugger."

Anya was impressed by the ingenuity of Spike's plan, but along with him, realized its major shortcoming.  A number of people were starting to gather, rubbernecking at the fire.  Anya's eyes were drawn to the movement of one person in particular. 

"Xander!  Buffy!  Everyone, up here!" she shouted.

Relief flooded Xander as he looked up to see Anya's blonde hair shining in the darkness.  Until he realized the second blond was Spike.  Of course Spike would be in on this with Drusilla.  The rage that replaced the relief left him light-headed as they raced over to the corner of the building.  To no one in particular he muttered "If he's hurt her, I'll stake him, chip be damned."

"If I send her down, can you catch her or at least break her drop?" Spike called down.

Buffy eyed the ladder, pushing out of her mind questions of how and why Spike was here, simply glad that for once he was in the right place at the right time.  "Anya, when you get to the bottom, if you can dangle off the end then I think Xander will be able to grab you, okay?"

"Not seeing a lot of other options," she replied.  "You'll be spotting me, right Buffy?"

"Not taking my eyes off of you until you're down," she replied lightly, knowing without looking how that dig hit its mark with Xander.

Anya was halfway down before Xander realized that Spike was assisting in Anya's rescue.  That somehow Spike was the reason Anya was about to be in his arms.  He stood under the ladder, coaching Anya as she crouched on the bottom rung, "Come on, Anya.  Hold on tight and move your feet off.  I'm right here, I'll catch you."

Through clenched teeth Anya said under her breath, "So help me, Alexander Harris, if you don't…" and slid her feet off, hoping her arms could take it.  Then she felt Xander's strong arms encircle her thighs and could feel his breath on her stomach.  Thankfully he did have a firm grasp because she found herself too affected to hold on.  He slid her gently through his arms until they were face to face, her toes barely touching the ground.  The sound of shattering glass made their heads snapped around.  The fire had blown out a window further down on the building.  Anya pushed away from Xander, busying herself with dusting off her blouse.

"I know it's a hallmark moment and all, but why don't you step back a few feet?" yelled Spike.

While the Scoobies were stepping back, Spike tucked his hand inside the arms of his duster, grabbed the outsides of the ladder supports, set the insoles of his boots against the outsides as well, and slid at lightning speed down it, dropping to the ground like a cat.  When he reached the group, he nodded to the right, "We seem to have drawn a bit of attention, let's say we get out of here before any newsies catch sight of us?"

They strolled as fast as they could without drawing additional attention.  When they were a block and a half away, Buffy stopped the group and turned to Spike.  "We can't leave.  Not until we get what we came for, Drusilla."

Spike grinned.  "Yeah, the Bit told me that's who you were after.  Realized I better get over here and lend a hand.  No worries with Drusilla.  She probably knew another way out and I gave her something to keep her good and distracted for a bit.  There won't be sight or sound of her for a while." 

A white rage came over Buffy.  Spike was landing on the ground before she realized she had delivered a sidekick to his chest.

"You know Slayer, in England people usually just say a polite 'thank you' and skip the fighting.  Too much passion involved."

Tara stared at Spike. "It isn't Drusilla at all, is it?"  She said as she offered him a hand up.

"No," replied Spike as he dusted himself off.  "Thought that was apparent.  Let me try explaining it in English even Americans can follow." 

He looked at Buffy as he pulled the postcard out of an inner coat pocket and handed it to Tara.  "After you left, a postcard arrived that provided the identity of Giles' travel agent to hell." 

"What does it say?" asked Anya.

Tara began to read the postcard, with Willow looking over her shoulder.  As they reached the bottom of the card, their eyes widened.  "Oh."  Tara gave the card to Buffy.

"Who is it?" asked Xander as he and Anya tried to read over Buffy's shoulder.

"Let's get back to the car," said Buffy, scanning the card while walking.  "Spike, continue.  Please."

She looked him in the eye as she said 'please' and Spike accepted it as the closest thing he'd get to an apology.  Hell, it was far more than he usually got.  "I couldn't reach you before you flew out, so I hopped a flight myself.  I decided to surprise you by nabbing the Big Bad first and then with the bird in hand, filling you in.  Course the surprise was on me when I arrived at Giles' flat and found out you'd left for London to chase poor Dru around."

Buffy reached the bottom of the card and stopped in her tracks.  Xander and Anya nearly tripped over her.

"Buff, who is it?" asked Xander.

"Ethan Rayne."  She resumed their trek to the car.  She looked straight ahead and in a flat tone said, "Spike, please tell me you didn't leave Dawn and Olivia alone in Giles' apartment with Ethan, did you?"

Spike answered slowly, in no mood for her backhand.  "Of course not.  Though you might not fully approve of who is with them.  Keep in mind, best of a limited list of options.  And by the way, they aren't in Bath.  Livy drove the lot of us to London."