Countdown: The Seventh Circle of Hell
By ElsaF
Spoilers: We're in the 24-verse today, which split off after
Dead Things.
Summary: Previously in the 24-verse: Buffy and Spike didn't
break up at the end of As You Were, but Buffy's unwillingness
to acknowledge Spike publicly meant they broke up soon
afterward. Buffy came to her senses and told her friends about
Spike, only to discover that they already knew and weren't
shocked. She went to tell him the secret was out, but he'd
already left town to change himself into someone she would be
willing to be seen with. Meanwhile, the Scoobies raided the
Nerds, and Jonathan and Andrew are in custody. Warren
escaped and came back to shoot Buffy and Xander. Buffy was
injured but not critically. Xander would have died, but Willow
intervened with Osiris to prevent him from crossing over. The
price for saving Xander's life was Willow's soul.
In the trusty ward
We held the margin of the purple flood
That seethed beneath us. In the boiling blood
Were spirits to the brows immersed.
"Ye see,"
Said Nessus, "tyrants who by the weight of sword
Spread death and rapine in their lands."
Description of the first round of the seventh circle of Hell.
-- The Inferno, Dante Alighieri
The clouds parted and revealed a half moon overhead. Spike
walked along the edge of a rock face that dropped to another
section of the trail about twenty feet below. In the pale
moonlight, he could see the path he'd already traversed dappled
with shadows.
He was feeling encouraged. Seeing Doc gave him the notion
that he was on the right track. The demon didn't belong in this
wilderness any more than he did. If Doc had been called to
stand in his way, he must be getting closer to his goal.
He stopped for a moment and listened to the breeze sifting
through the trees behind him. It was past midnight and the
world was quiet. There was no traffic noise, no background of
machinery, radios and televisions, air conditioners and power
lines to mix in with the sounds of the earth. He was mildly
surprised at how much he could hear now. He was so
accustomed to the low rumble of urban life, he'd forgotten the
sharp, clear sounds of the world stripped clean.
There was the sound of an owl landing on a tree branch some
fifty yards away, then the soft whirring of its wings as it took
off again. The light skittering of some small animal on the
ground a bit closer. There was the quiet splash of a stream
falling over the rock face to his right -- little more than a drip in
this dry season. Without the ever-present scent of gasoline
exhausts, the world smelled different. He could pick out
several different animal scents, and the faint trace of humans,
and the pleasant sweetness of the grass and dirt beneath his
feet. To his own amusement, he was starting to warm to nature.
He become fully alert when he heard the high-pitched snarl of
a cougar. He hadn't smelled it -- it was upwind, and from the
sound, below him on the trail. The snarl was followed by a
human cry.
"No! Mandy! Don't run!"
There were frantic footfalls. Whoever Mandy was, she hadn't
taken the warning and was doing the worst thing possible.
Running could only heighten the cougar's predatory instincts.
The girl came into sight running for her life. It was a doomed
flight -- the big cat could easily outpace her, both in the sprint
and the long run. The animal was close behind her. Almost at
the moment the girl burst into view, the cat leapt at her. It may
well have outweighed her -- she was a small teenager and the
cat was a large male. She was a swift runner -- for a human --
but not swift enough. The cat hit her in the middle of her back,
wrapping its paws around her middle. She took another step
before she fell forward. The cat advanced up her body to aim
its fangs at the back of her neck.
Spike reacted in less than a fraction of a second. He leapt from
the cliff edge and hit the trail below only a yard or so from the
cat and its prey. He came down in a crouch and leapt again,
hitting the animal from the side and knocking it away from the
girl. It faced him in a crouch now, letting out another fierce
snarl, its ears flattened to its head and its tail twitching.
Spike showed it fangs to match. He snarled back, his game face
mirroring the animal's ferocity. It pounced and Spike leapt
forward to meet it in mid-air where it didn't have the advantage
of leverage against the ground. He drove it back and up,
flipping it so it landed on its back. He came down on top of it,
burying his hands in the fur of its neck. The cat clawed and
struggled beneath him, but he held it tight, working for the
purchase he needed to snap its neck.
With a sudden, desperate burst of strength, the cougar twisted
its body and escaped his grip. It leapt away and turned to face
him again, snarling. But it knew it was overmatched, and
turned to slink away into the underbrush.
Spike shook off his game face and turned to check on the girl.
She was unconscious. There was a deep gash on her thigh
where the cat's back claws had dug in when it went for her
neck. Her leg was bleeding profusely. There were tooth marks
on her neck, but he'd knocked the animal away before it could
bite down and sever her spinal cord. There were more deep
scratches on her sides and shoulders where the cat had gripped
her. She was wearing denim cutoff shorts and a T-shirt. The
shirt was now soaked in the blood from the gashes on her upper
body. She had short-cropped dark red hair spiked with gel, the
tips colored an unnatural purple. She looked young -- maybe a
year older than Dawn.
"Oh my God!" said a woman's voice nearby. A second woman,
a little older than the girl on the ground came running up. She
was short, and thin, with dark, curly hair. It was the voice he'd
first heard warning "Mandy" not to run.
"Is she ..."
"She's not dead," Spike said. "But she's hurt."
"You fought off the lion," the woman said in awe. "I've never
seen anything like that."
"You have a first aid kit?"
The woman nodded and ran back toward her camp site.
A dark pool was forming on the ground under the injured girl's
leg. Spike knew she'd bleed to death if the flow wasn't stopped,
soon. Odd, he thought to himself, he knew almost to the minute
how long it would be before her heart started to flutter from not
having enough blood to pump. How strange that his century of
experience killing was now telling him he had to act quickly to
save this girl.
He unfastened his belt and pulled off to use for a tourniquet.
He fastened it on her thigh above the wound and tightened it
until the blood flow slowed. The girl moaned.
The sharp odor of her blood filled Spike's nose. He had to stop
breathing to stop smelling it. He was hungry -- it had been two
days since he'd fed. And this was blood he could drink without
activating his chip. He looked at the dark stains spreading
across the girl's shirt. His stomach fluttered -- begging to be
satisfied. But he didn't consider bending down to lick her body
clean. He'd moved beyond that long ago. He didn't feed on
humans -- not unless he could pick up a packet at the blood
bank. Humans were not food. The realization came to him as a
bit of a shock.
He'd tried to feed on a human woman not too many months ago
-- when he'd thought his chip had stopped working. He
remembered how he'd felt that night. On a rational level he'd
believed that he could feed on humans again and that to do so
would be completely natural. But something else had
intervened to hold him back. He'd looked at the frightened
woman he'd cornered in that alley and he'd seen her as kin to
the people he cared about -- Dawn, Buffy, the red-headed
witch, her soft-eyed lover. He knew that if the chip hadn't fired,
he would have gone through with it -- because he'd believed
that was what he was supposed to do. But he also knew he
would have suffered overwhelming guilt because of it. The
chip's pain had almost been a kindness.
Guilt -- when had that become part of his emotional landscape?
He wasn't sure when it had arrived, but somehow it had taken
up residence and become his constant companion.
"Stay quiet, love," he said. "Don't struggle. It'll just make you
bleed more."
The other woman returned with a small, blue plastic box. Spike
doubted there was anything inside that would be useful against
injuries this severe. The girl started to shake. The blood loss
was sapping her body temperature. She'd be suffering
hypothermia soon, even though the night's temperature was
quite mild.
Spike stripped out of his coat and put it over the girl to keep
her warm. The other woman knelt on the other side of the girl.
"She's bad, isn't she?" the woman asked.
Spike nodded.
"We've got to get her out of here."
"Do you have a cell phone? We could call for help. They might
be able to get a helicopter to us."
The woman shook her head. "Didn't bring it. They don't work
out here. Too far from the nearest tower, and the mountains are
too high."
"Then we'll have to carry her out," Spike said. Then he
hesitated. If he helped these women, he'd have to walk back out
of the mountains, back to the trailhead where he'd started. It
would take the rest of the night, if not longer. He would have to
abandon his quest.
If this wasn't part of the challenge, he thought, suddenly
realizing that he didn't know how much of what he was
experiencing was real. Had Doc really been in that clearing? Or
was he just an apparition sent to test his resolve? How was he
supposed to know? Would saving this girl's life cost him his
chance at his soul? Or would abandoning her mean failure?
The girl's blood smelled real enough. Surely the girl was flesh
and blood.
Easy one, he told himself. You don't gain a soul by letting
someone you can help die. He was certain that was the answer
Buffy would have come up with.
"We can cut some branches and make a stretcher," the woman
said.
"No need," Spike replied. He wrapped the coat farther around
the girl and picked her up, a limp bundle of black leather.
"It's miles back out to the road. You can't carry her all that
way!"
"Sure I can, love. No problem. Let's go. We need to get her to a
hospital as fast as we can."
He took off walking briskly.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, as she hurried to keep up
with him.
"You can call me Spike," he said. "And you are?"
"Karen Davis. That's my sister, Mandy."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Karen."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Same as you, I'd think," Spike replied.
"Dressed like that?"
"Just another fashion victim, love."
"I've never seen anything like the way you fought off that cat,"
Karen said breathlessly. Spike realized she had to struggle to
keep up with him, but he didn't want to slow down
-- first because Mandy needed urgent medical attention, second
because he knew he had to get to where he could turn the girl
over to someone before sunrise.
"Nothing special, pet. A predator like that'll give up if you put
up enough resistance. It doesn't want to fight. Just wants an
easy meal."
"Do you think she'll be OK?" Karen asked, her voice trembling
with worry.
"I hope so." He could feel Mandy's heart beat, rapid, but
steady. It didn't have the flutter that preceded arrest. There was
a good chance she'd make it, if they could get her to help in
time.
"I brought her out here so we could have some time alone.
We've grown apart. I thought this would be a good way to bond
-- no TV, no radio, no boyfriends calling. God I wish I'd opted
for dinner out and a long talk."
"It's hard to know what's going to happen. Don't blame
yourself."
"She ran because the cat was coming at me," Karen said with a
sob. "She's always been a good runner. She's on the track team
at school."
"Never saw a person who could outrun a lion," Spike said.
"No, she didn't have a chance."
"You like a mum to her?"
"Not really. She's still at home. I got married a couple years
ago. Mom and Dad hated Rick, so I sort of lost touch for a bit.
Turns out they were right. After my divorce, I came back. But
things have been a little awkward. I just wanted to spend some
time alone with Mandy. Thought we could talk about Mom and
Dad, and somehow I could tell her to listen -- I could tell her
not to make the mistakes I did."
"So, was she listening?"
Karen shrugged.
"Well, it's good you were trying."
"You're from England, aren't you?" Karen asked, changing the
subject.
"Yeah."
"What brought you to California? You just visiting?"
Spike laughed. "Been here for years, pet. Came for a quick
visit, and ended up staying. Can't seem to get away."
"What part of England?"
"London."
"Always wanted to go there."
They walked in silence for a while. Spike heard Karen's
labored breathing. She was flagging. He knew they'd have to
stop and rest before too long -- either that, or he'd have to leave
her behind.
The wind shifted, bringing a new mixture of scents to Spike's
attention. He tensed, but covered it up, not wanting to alarm his
companion.
The cougar hadn't given up. It was stalking them.
------------
Willow sat on the sofa staring blankly into space. Dawn, Buffy
and Anya gathered around her, trying to get her attention, but
she seemed deaf and blind. She was unquestionably alive. Her
chest rose and fell as she breathed and she had a steady pulse,
but she was completely unresponsive.
"What's wrong with her, Buffy?" Dawn asked plaintively.
"I don't know," her sister answer slowly. "She's in some sort of
coma."
Anya stood a step or two back, watching with increasingly
horrified eyes.
Then, without warning, Willow blinked. She seemed to snap to
attention. She looked around at the three women staring at her
and frowned.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"You were completely zoned out, Willow," Buffy said with
concern.
"I was just tired," Willow replied. "Nothing to worry about."
"It was from the magic you used yesterday, wasn't it?" Buffy
asked.
"No! Of course not. That wasn't anything. It was just all the
stress yesterday. I'm fine, really."
"Buffy..." Anya said quietly.
"Not now, Anya. Willow, I think we should take you back to
the doctor and have you looked at. You're really not looking
too good."
"Buffy..."
Buffy gestured for Anya to be quiet.
"I'm fine," Willow said adamantly.
"Buffy! Her soul is gone!" Anya blurted out.
"What?"
Buffy turned back to Willow. "What happened? What did you
do?"
"You asked me to," Willow said in a tiny voice. "You begged
me to help Xander."
"I asked... when?"
"When you first woke up ... in the recovery room."
"But how?"
"It doesn't matter now."
"I thought humans died when their souls were removed," Buffy
said quietly.
"They usually do," Anya replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "But
Willow has so much magic in her. That's what's keeping her
going now. I can sense that too."
"Oh, Willow..." Buffy said, her voice betraying deep sorrow.
"Buffy, really, it's not a problem," Willow said with a forced
smile. "See? I'm fine. No problem. I'm still me. I still talk the
same way, still think the same way. I'll still be your friend and
helper. So I operate a little differently now. It's not going to be
a problem."
"I never meant you to..."
"I know, Buffy. You were disoriented. You just wanted to
know he was OK. I get that. It's not your fault. I wanted to help
him. I couldn't just let him die that way." She looked over at
Dawn. "See Dawnie, you and me have something in common
now. We're not real."
She reached out for the teenager, but Dawn backed up.
"Don't touch me," Dawn said.
----------------
Karen marveled at her knight and protector for the twentieth or
thirtieth time that night. He'd come out of nowhere when
Mandy was attacked. He'd tended her wounds, wrapped her in
his coat and carried her for miles.
Now, he was preparing to do battle for them once again.
They'd been walking along the path when he suddenly stopped
and sniffed the air.
"It's following," he said quietly. "It can smell her blood. We're
leaving a trail that any blind tosser could follow."
He'd then proceeded to find a sheltered spot to set Karen's
sister down.
"Listen to me carefully, love," he'd said. "Whatever happens
now, whatever you see, you have to stand your ground. I'm
going to take care of the cat, but you have to stay with little sis
and protect her. You can't run -- no matter what happens. That
will only make things worse."
Karen nodded.
"That's my girl."
He then stripped off his black T-shirt and handed it to her.
"Why?" she asked.
"It's got her blood on it," he explained. "I don't want him
smelling me coming."
He'd then taken off his boots, undoubtedly to quiet his
footfalls. He'd stood there pale, shining white in the moonlight
for a moment, and Karen thought the looked like a magnificent
animal. He was lithe as the cat that followed them, and easily
more powerful. His skin was smooth and white as ivory. His
platinum blond hair glistened faintly in the wan light.
He listened for the animal that was stalking them for a moment,
then he turned and disappeared into the underbrush, swiftly and
silently.
She sat down beside her unconscious sister then and waited.
She heard nothing for several moments. The air was still. Even
the breeze had stopped stirring the trees.
Then there was a sudden thrashing in the underbrush close by.
Karen huddled close to Mandy, holding her breath for fear of
what she would see next.
"Bloody hell!" came an exclamation from the shuddering
bushes, and Spike and the cat burst out into the open space in
front of Karen and her sister.
He was tumbling over and over with the cougar, the two forms
tangled together and writhing. Then he broke away and Karen
could see deep claw marks glistening with dark blood across
his chest. He dived at the cat again and they were rolling and
tumbling once more.
Suddenly, Spike was on top, standing over the cougar's back,
his hands on the creature's head. He twisted sharply and Karen
heard the animal's neck snap. Spike dropped the limp carcass,
and stood up straight, his back to Karen and Mandy. He stood
there for a moment composing himself before he turned back to
face them and smiled.
"Well, that was a bit of a dawdle," he said. He walked toward
them with an easy rolling gate. Karen could see he was feeling
triumphant.
She looked beyond him to the dead cat and gasped. He saw the
look on her face and stopped, puzzled. Then he turned around
in time to see the cougar get up. First it rose to its four paws,
then it stood on two legs. It's golden fir shifted and reformed,
and it stood as a man. A very large, muscular man with the
head of a lion.
Spike looked in disbelief, and then swallowed hard.
"Bugger."
By ElsaF
Spoilers: We're in the 24-verse today, which split off after
Dead Things.
Summary: Previously in the 24-verse: Buffy and Spike didn't
break up at the end of As You Were, but Buffy's unwillingness
to acknowledge Spike publicly meant they broke up soon
afterward. Buffy came to her senses and told her friends about
Spike, only to discover that they already knew and weren't
shocked. She went to tell him the secret was out, but he'd
already left town to change himself into someone she would be
willing to be seen with. Meanwhile, the Scoobies raided the
Nerds, and Jonathan and Andrew are in custody. Warren
escaped and came back to shoot Buffy and Xander. Buffy was
injured but not critically. Xander would have died, but Willow
intervened with Osiris to prevent him from crossing over. The
price for saving Xander's life was Willow's soul.
In the trusty ward
We held the margin of the purple flood
That seethed beneath us. In the boiling blood
Were spirits to the brows immersed.
"Ye see,"
Said Nessus, "tyrants who by the weight of sword
Spread death and rapine in their lands."
Description of the first round of the seventh circle of Hell.
-- The Inferno, Dante Alighieri
The clouds parted and revealed a half moon overhead. Spike
walked along the edge of a rock face that dropped to another
section of the trail about twenty feet below. In the pale
moonlight, he could see the path he'd already traversed dappled
with shadows.
He was feeling encouraged. Seeing Doc gave him the notion
that he was on the right track. The demon didn't belong in this
wilderness any more than he did. If Doc had been called to
stand in his way, he must be getting closer to his goal.
He stopped for a moment and listened to the breeze sifting
through the trees behind him. It was past midnight and the
world was quiet. There was no traffic noise, no background of
machinery, radios and televisions, air conditioners and power
lines to mix in with the sounds of the earth. He was mildly
surprised at how much he could hear now. He was so
accustomed to the low rumble of urban life, he'd forgotten the
sharp, clear sounds of the world stripped clean.
There was the sound of an owl landing on a tree branch some
fifty yards away, then the soft whirring of its wings as it took
off again. The light skittering of some small animal on the
ground a bit closer. There was the quiet splash of a stream
falling over the rock face to his right -- little more than a drip in
this dry season. Without the ever-present scent of gasoline
exhausts, the world smelled different. He could pick out
several different animal scents, and the faint trace of humans,
and the pleasant sweetness of the grass and dirt beneath his
feet. To his own amusement, he was starting to warm to nature.
He become fully alert when he heard the high-pitched snarl of
a cougar. He hadn't smelled it -- it was upwind, and from the
sound, below him on the trail. The snarl was followed by a
human cry.
"No! Mandy! Don't run!"
There were frantic footfalls. Whoever Mandy was, she hadn't
taken the warning and was doing the worst thing possible.
Running could only heighten the cougar's predatory instincts.
The girl came into sight running for her life. It was a doomed
flight -- the big cat could easily outpace her, both in the sprint
and the long run. The animal was close behind her. Almost at
the moment the girl burst into view, the cat leapt at her. It may
well have outweighed her -- she was a small teenager and the
cat was a large male. She was a swift runner -- for a human --
but not swift enough. The cat hit her in the middle of her back,
wrapping its paws around her middle. She took another step
before she fell forward. The cat advanced up her body to aim
its fangs at the back of her neck.
Spike reacted in less than a fraction of a second. He leapt from
the cliff edge and hit the trail below only a yard or so from the
cat and its prey. He came down in a crouch and leapt again,
hitting the animal from the side and knocking it away from the
girl. It faced him in a crouch now, letting out another fierce
snarl, its ears flattened to its head and its tail twitching.
Spike showed it fangs to match. He snarled back, his game face
mirroring the animal's ferocity. It pounced and Spike leapt
forward to meet it in mid-air where it didn't have the advantage
of leverage against the ground. He drove it back and up,
flipping it so it landed on its back. He came down on top of it,
burying his hands in the fur of its neck. The cat clawed and
struggled beneath him, but he held it tight, working for the
purchase he needed to snap its neck.
With a sudden, desperate burst of strength, the cougar twisted
its body and escaped his grip. It leapt away and turned to face
him again, snarling. But it knew it was overmatched, and
turned to slink away into the underbrush.
Spike shook off his game face and turned to check on the girl.
She was unconscious. There was a deep gash on her thigh
where the cat's back claws had dug in when it went for her
neck. Her leg was bleeding profusely. There were tooth marks
on her neck, but he'd knocked the animal away before it could
bite down and sever her spinal cord. There were more deep
scratches on her sides and shoulders where the cat had gripped
her. She was wearing denim cutoff shorts and a T-shirt. The
shirt was now soaked in the blood from the gashes on her upper
body. She had short-cropped dark red hair spiked with gel, the
tips colored an unnatural purple. She looked young -- maybe a
year older than Dawn.
"Oh my God!" said a woman's voice nearby. A second woman,
a little older than the girl on the ground came running up. She
was short, and thin, with dark, curly hair. It was the voice he'd
first heard warning "Mandy" not to run.
"Is she ..."
"She's not dead," Spike said. "But she's hurt."
"You fought off the lion," the woman said in awe. "I've never
seen anything like that."
"You have a first aid kit?"
The woman nodded and ran back toward her camp site.
A dark pool was forming on the ground under the injured girl's
leg. Spike knew she'd bleed to death if the flow wasn't stopped,
soon. Odd, he thought to himself, he knew almost to the minute
how long it would be before her heart started to flutter from not
having enough blood to pump. How strange that his century of
experience killing was now telling him he had to act quickly to
save this girl.
He unfastened his belt and pulled off to use for a tourniquet.
He fastened it on her thigh above the wound and tightened it
until the blood flow slowed. The girl moaned.
The sharp odor of her blood filled Spike's nose. He had to stop
breathing to stop smelling it. He was hungry -- it had been two
days since he'd fed. And this was blood he could drink without
activating his chip. He looked at the dark stains spreading
across the girl's shirt. His stomach fluttered -- begging to be
satisfied. But he didn't consider bending down to lick her body
clean. He'd moved beyond that long ago. He didn't feed on
humans -- not unless he could pick up a packet at the blood
bank. Humans were not food. The realization came to him as a
bit of a shock.
He'd tried to feed on a human woman not too many months ago
-- when he'd thought his chip had stopped working. He
remembered how he'd felt that night. On a rational level he'd
believed that he could feed on humans again and that to do so
would be completely natural. But something else had
intervened to hold him back. He'd looked at the frightened
woman he'd cornered in that alley and he'd seen her as kin to
the people he cared about -- Dawn, Buffy, the red-headed
witch, her soft-eyed lover. He knew that if the chip hadn't fired,
he would have gone through with it -- because he'd believed
that was what he was supposed to do. But he also knew he
would have suffered overwhelming guilt because of it. The
chip's pain had almost been a kindness.
Guilt -- when had that become part of his emotional landscape?
He wasn't sure when it had arrived, but somehow it had taken
up residence and become his constant companion.
"Stay quiet, love," he said. "Don't struggle. It'll just make you
bleed more."
The other woman returned with a small, blue plastic box. Spike
doubted there was anything inside that would be useful against
injuries this severe. The girl started to shake. The blood loss
was sapping her body temperature. She'd be suffering
hypothermia soon, even though the night's temperature was
quite mild.
Spike stripped out of his coat and put it over the girl to keep
her warm. The other woman knelt on the other side of the girl.
"She's bad, isn't she?" the woman asked.
Spike nodded.
"We've got to get her out of here."
"Do you have a cell phone? We could call for help. They might
be able to get a helicopter to us."
The woman shook her head. "Didn't bring it. They don't work
out here. Too far from the nearest tower, and the mountains are
too high."
"Then we'll have to carry her out," Spike said. Then he
hesitated. If he helped these women, he'd have to walk back out
of the mountains, back to the trailhead where he'd started. It
would take the rest of the night, if not longer. He would have to
abandon his quest.
If this wasn't part of the challenge, he thought, suddenly
realizing that he didn't know how much of what he was
experiencing was real. Had Doc really been in that clearing? Or
was he just an apparition sent to test his resolve? How was he
supposed to know? Would saving this girl's life cost him his
chance at his soul? Or would abandoning her mean failure?
The girl's blood smelled real enough. Surely the girl was flesh
and blood.
Easy one, he told himself. You don't gain a soul by letting
someone you can help die. He was certain that was the answer
Buffy would have come up with.
"We can cut some branches and make a stretcher," the woman
said.
"No need," Spike replied. He wrapped the coat farther around
the girl and picked her up, a limp bundle of black leather.
"It's miles back out to the road. You can't carry her all that
way!"
"Sure I can, love. No problem. Let's go. We need to get her to a
hospital as fast as we can."
He took off walking briskly.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, as she hurried to keep up
with him.
"You can call me Spike," he said. "And you are?"
"Karen Davis. That's my sister, Mandy."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Karen."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Same as you, I'd think," Spike replied.
"Dressed like that?"
"Just another fashion victim, love."
"I've never seen anything like the way you fought off that cat,"
Karen said breathlessly. Spike realized she had to struggle to
keep up with him, but he didn't want to slow down
-- first because Mandy needed urgent medical attention, second
because he knew he had to get to where he could turn the girl
over to someone before sunrise.
"Nothing special, pet. A predator like that'll give up if you put
up enough resistance. It doesn't want to fight. Just wants an
easy meal."
"Do you think she'll be OK?" Karen asked, her voice trembling
with worry.
"I hope so." He could feel Mandy's heart beat, rapid, but
steady. It didn't have the flutter that preceded arrest. There was
a good chance she'd make it, if they could get her to help in
time.
"I brought her out here so we could have some time alone.
We've grown apart. I thought this would be a good way to bond
-- no TV, no radio, no boyfriends calling. God I wish I'd opted
for dinner out and a long talk."
"It's hard to know what's going to happen. Don't blame
yourself."
"She ran because the cat was coming at me," Karen said with a
sob. "She's always been a good runner. She's on the track team
at school."
"Never saw a person who could outrun a lion," Spike said.
"No, she didn't have a chance."
"You like a mum to her?"
"Not really. She's still at home. I got married a couple years
ago. Mom and Dad hated Rick, so I sort of lost touch for a bit.
Turns out they were right. After my divorce, I came back. But
things have been a little awkward. I just wanted to spend some
time alone with Mandy. Thought we could talk about Mom and
Dad, and somehow I could tell her to listen -- I could tell her
not to make the mistakes I did."
"So, was she listening?"
Karen shrugged.
"Well, it's good you were trying."
"You're from England, aren't you?" Karen asked, changing the
subject.
"Yeah."
"What brought you to California? You just visiting?"
Spike laughed. "Been here for years, pet. Came for a quick
visit, and ended up staying. Can't seem to get away."
"What part of England?"
"London."
"Always wanted to go there."
They walked in silence for a while. Spike heard Karen's
labored breathing. She was flagging. He knew they'd have to
stop and rest before too long -- either that, or he'd have to leave
her behind.
The wind shifted, bringing a new mixture of scents to Spike's
attention. He tensed, but covered it up, not wanting to alarm his
companion.
The cougar hadn't given up. It was stalking them.
------------
Willow sat on the sofa staring blankly into space. Dawn, Buffy
and Anya gathered around her, trying to get her attention, but
she seemed deaf and blind. She was unquestionably alive. Her
chest rose and fell as she breathed and she had a steady pulse,
but she was completely unresponsive.
"What's wrong with her, Buffy?" Dawn asked plaintively.
"I don't know," her sister answer slowly. "She's in some sort of
coma."
Anya stood a step or two back, watching with increasingly
horrified eyes.
Then, without warning, Willow blinked. She seemed to snap to
attention. She looked around at the three women staring at her
and frowned.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"You were completely zoned out, Willow," Buffy said with
concern.
"I was just tired," Willow replied. "Nothing to worry about."
"It was from the magic you used yesterday, wasn't it?" Buffy
asked.
"No! Of course not. That wasn't anything. It was just all the
stress yesterday. I'm fine, really."
"Buffy..." Anya said quietly.
"Not now, Anya. Willow, I think we should take you back to
the doctor and have you looked at. You're really not looking
too good."
"Buffy..."
Buffy gestured for Anya to be quiet.
"I'm fine," Willow said adamantly.
"Buffy! Her soul is gone!" Anya blurted out.
"What?"
Buffy turned back to Willow. "What happened? What did you
do?"
"You asked me to," Willow said in a tiny voice. "You begged
me to help Xander."
"I asked... when?"
"When you first woke up ... in the recovery room."
"But how?"
"It doesn't matter now."
"I thought humans died when their souls were removed," Buffy
said quietly.
"They usually do," Anya replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "But
Willow has so much magic in her. That's what's keeping her
going now. I can sense that too."
"Oh, Willow..." Buffy said, her voice betraying deep sorrow.
"Buffy, really, it's not a problem," Willow said with a forced
smile. "See? I'm fine. No problem. I'm still me. I still talk the
same way, still think the same way. I'll still be your friend and
helper. So I operate a little differently now. It's not going to be
a problem."
"I never meant you to..."
"I know, Buffy. You were disoriented. You just wanted to
know he was OK. I get that. It's not your fault. I wanted to help
him. I couldn't just let him die that way." She looked over at
Dawn. "See Dawnie, you and me have something in common
now. We're not real."
She reached out for the teenager, but Dawn backed up.
"Don't touch me," Dawn said.
----------------
Karen marveled at her knight and protector for the twentieth or
thirtieth time that night. He'd come out of nowhere when
Mandy was attacked. He'd tended her wounds, wrapped her in
his coat and carried her for miles.
Now, he was preparing to do battle for them once again.
They'd been walking along the path when he suddenly stopped
and sniffed the air.
"It's following," he said quietly. "It can smell her blood. We're
leaving a trail that any blind tosser could follow."
He'd then proceeded to find a sheltered spot to set Karen's
sister down.
"Listen to me carefully, love," he'd said. "Whatever happens
now, whatever you see, you have to stand your ground. I'm
going to take care of the cat, but you have to stay with little sis
and protect her. You can't run -- no matter what happens. That
will only make things worse."
Karen nodded.
"That's my girl."
He then stripped off his black T-shirt and handed it to her.
"Why?" she asked.
"It's got her blood on it," he explained. "I don't want him
smelling me coming."
He'd then taken off his boots, undoubtedly to quiet his
footfalls. He'd stood there pale, shining white in the moonlight
for a moment, and Karen thought the looked like a magnificent
animal. He was lithe as the cat that followed them, and easily
more powerful. His skin was smooth and white as ivory. His
platinum blond hair glistened faintly in the wan light.
He listened for the animal that was stalking them for a moment,
then he turned and disappeared into the underbrush, swiftly and
silently.
She sat down beside her unconscious sister then and waited.
She heard nothing for several moments. The air was still. Even
the breeze had stopped stirring the trees.
Then there was a sudden thrashing in the underbrush close by.
Karen huddled close to Mandy, holding her breath for fear of
what she would see next.
"Bloody hell!" came an exclamation from the shuddering
bushes, and Spike and the cat burst out into the open space in
front of Karen and her sister.
He was tumbling over and over with the cougar, the two forms
tangled together and writhing. Then he broke away and Karen
could see deep claw marks glistening with dark blood across
his chest. He dived at the cat again and they were rolling and
tumbling once more.
Suddenly, Spike was on top, standing over the cougar's back,
his hands on the creature's head. He twisted sharply and Karen
heard the animal's neck snap. Spike dropped the limp carcass,
and stood up straight, his back to Karen and Mandy. He stood
there for a moment composing himself before he turned back to
face them and smiled.
"Well, that was a bit of a dawdle," he said. He walked toward
them with an easy rolling gate. Karen could see he was feeling
triumphant.
She looked beyond him to the dead cat and gasped. He saw the
look on her face and stopped, puzzled. Then he turned around
in time to see the cougar get up. First it rose to its four paws,
then it stood on two legs. It's golden fir shifted and reformed,
and it stood as a man. A very large, muscular man with the
head of a lion.
Spike looked in disbelief, and then swallowed hard.
"Bugger."