The Drunken Fisherman was an establishment very true to its name. Located on Sunnydale's dilapidated wharf, the bar served as a watering hole and place to pass out for every fisherman whose haul for the day was not what they had wanted and even more so for those whose haul was more than they could have hoped for. Tonight, the usual cliental had filtered in at the usual time but with one notable exception. Though he had been seen here the past few nights, the tall, slender man with bleached blonde hair, dressed almost entirely in black still seemed out of place. He had wandered at the same time everyday this week, later than most, sitting at the bar, sipping beer after beer, keeping to himself.
Tonight however, Spike did not seem to be in much of a mood for keeping to himself. After downing several beers, several shots of hard liquor and several more beers, it seemed as though the vampire's tongue had been loosened. Most ignored his apparent ramblings though those that had consumed more alcohol than he had gathered around him, listening to his stories with interest.
"So I see her sitting there," Spike continued after downing the remainder of his beer, raising his voice to add emphasis and make sure his growing crowd of listeners could hear him. "On the park bench, making out with a chaos demon!" Spike made a series of disoriented gestures with his hands as he told the story he had once thought he would never have interest in repeating. This was met be a series of low rumblings, groans and drunken expressions of sympathy from those gathered around him.
"That's rough pal," the stench of alcohol rolled off the breath of the fat, bearded sailor behind Spike as he spoke, putting his hand on the vampire's shoulder.
Spike patted the man's hand repeatedly, underestimating the strength of his touch, the man quickly pulling his hand away. "Thanks pal, it means a lot," Spike remarked without an ounce of sincerity. Spike took another long slug of his freshly refilled beer glass before continuing, waving his finger about, pointing to his audience. "But let me tell ya, Dru was a bloody saint, well," Spike realized the inherent error of his comment. "You know, aside from the whole being evil thing." Another round of drunken agreements from the listeners filled the room. "But she was perfection compared to the next girl." As the vampire polished off another beer and slammed his fist on the bar, a signal for a refill, his audience urged him to continue.
"Cute little blonde thing right," Spike began, drawing various comments from the drunken sailors gathered around him. "And I'll admit, we got off a bit on the wrong foot, you know, me trying to kill her a few times and all but you'd think a person could forgive that after a while."
"Yeah!" Another heavyset sailor shouted.
"See he knows what I'm talking about," Spike acknowledged the sailor by raising his glass, prompting the other listeners to do so as well. "So long story short, I end up falling in love with the girl, devil knows how that happened. Then for a while, you know, we're getting along well, having our little midnight get-togethers and such but then, you know I've got to go and mess it all up again, she tells me she could never love me. But then, I go through hell and torture and torturous hell to get her the one thing she wants and she still doesn't give us a chance."
With a single gulp, Spike downed another beer, wiping the remnants off of his lip with his hand before demanding another and continuing his story. "Well, big old battle and lots of special effects later, she finally admits, that she might, kind of, love me too. So big happy ending right?" The audience participated as he thought they would, nodding and agreeing that it seemed the perfect place for his story to end.
"Wrong," Spike delivered the blow. "Then she tells me she's taking off with her little witch friend to battle the forces of darkness across the globe. Now, I'm never one to turn away from a fight, so I'm saddled up ready to go with her and you know what she tells me?" No answers came; Spike swallowed another beer. "She tells me that I have to stay in good. Old. Sunnydale." Moans and groans of disappointment from his audience as Spike downed yet another beer. "That was three months ago," Spike added. "Haven't heard from the bitch since and it's a good thing to! Cause if she ever visits my grave again I'm going to give her piece of my mind I'll tell you that!" As Spike downed another beer, he did not notice that his crowd had disappeared and been replaced by three large, less inebriated men, employees and the owner of the bar by the looks of them.
"While you're thinking about what pieces of your mind to give her, why don't you fork over some pieces of money for all those drinks you've been downing?" The largest one, wearing a cut off t-shirt and dirty blue jeans, standing in the center, asked, growing obviously weary of the hefty tab Spike had built up over the past week.
"Well you know," Spike commented, pretending to dig through is pockets for money but actually scanning the bar for the fastest and most easily accessible exit. "'Fraid I'm running a little short in the hard currency area lately." Spike stood, realizing he was several inches shorter than the smallest man. "Think we could work out some sort of a trade?" The owner smiled.
From a side door of the Drunken Fisherman, leading into a dark alley, Spike flew, crashing dangerously into a pile of discarded wood boxes. He had decided it would be in his best interests to not offer any resistance to the humans tossing him out of the bar, for if he would have, the Slayer would be on his back within hours. "And stay out!" The owner slammed the door behind him.
Spike stood, dusting off his jacket, thanking whatever power it was that watched over him for none of the wooden shards getting too close. "Fine!" Spike retorted, pretending to care more about the situation than he actually did. "Don't need your soddin' boos anyways." Noticing a discarded, half-empty bottle of beer on the ground by his feet, Spike picked it up, chugging the contents down and throwing the bottle into the shadows, towards a brick wall of the building opposite the bar.
The bottle did not shatter however. Spike, doubting his own strength, knowing he'd thrown the bottle hard, became determined to break it. He had to take out his frustrations on something and it was the most convenient thing that breaking wouldn't result in the Slayer breathing down his neck, unless she had gotten bored lately. As he approached where the bottle struck the wall, he saw the reason why.
It had struck a body, propped up against the wall. It wasn't the ordinary, run of the mill dead body though; somebody had fun with this one. Examining it, Spike had a brief memory of Spain. Fresh from enjoying the theatre and a meal, coincidentally at the same place, he and Dru were walking through the streets when a young boy had made some suggestive comments towards her. Spike used to be the jealous type.
"Dru would've loved this," Spike noted, remembering when he had presented the boy's body to her. "Buffy would've blamed me, being the one here." Spike looked the body over. On first inspection, it looked as though it was ripped apart from the inside, a difficult task to accomplish for most. "And Faith, she'll probably both love it and blame me." Though she did not seem to be hostile towards him, Spike still wasn't sure about Sunnydale's newest resident Slayer hence why he had kept a safe distance from her during the past three months.
With the arrival of whatever had killed this young sailor in town though, it seemed he would have to end his isolation from the Slayer. Whatever or whoever this killer was, they would need to be dealt with and Spike's taste for dealing with creatures of the underworld had disappeared as of late. This was a job for the Slayer to take care of and for Spike to hope she didn't get herself killed in the process.
Seeing his discarded bottle laying on top of the body, Spike picked it up, shattered it against the nearby wall and walked out of the alley, a freshly lit cigarette burning in his mouth. Wherever the Slayer was, he had to find her.
***
"And where should I put my scale diorama of the first battle of the Battle of Endor?" Andrew all but stumbled through the door of Xander's apartment, carrying a large covered piece of wood, no doubt the model he was speaking of.
Xander, sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table as he surfed through television channels shook his head, having difficulty believing what his life had become. "Please tell me I didn't just hear that sentence?" He did not look away from the TV as Andrew finally managed to negotiate the doorway, setting the model on top of the counter.
"Seriously Xander, I think it would look good as a centerpiece in the living room, you know, something to draw conversation when we're entertaining," Andrew seriously remarked, hanging over the couch.
Annoyed to no end with the situation, Xander turned the TV off and stood, turning around and towering over the geek that stood behind his couch. "Two things," Xander began, pointing a finger at him for emphasis. "First, we will not be entertaining anybody. I don't want anyone to know I actually let you move in, let alone anyone to think I'm trying to make the best of it. Second," he continued, pointing to Andrew's diorama. "I think it will go very well in the closet with your Captain Picard statue and your Stargate plates and your complete set of Babylon 5 laser discs."
Andrew retreated, picking up the diorama and carrying it towards the closet. "All right, I can see there's going to have to be a period of adjustment for both of us and I can understand that."
Xander again shook his head and turned the TV back on. "This is what my life has become." The door to his apartment closed, Andrew going back out to his car, no doubt to bring in more signs of geekdom that Xander would have to quickly order into the closet as well. "Should've gone with Will and Buffy," he muttered, pretending for a moment that the two would actually have let him go with them on their quest to rid the globe of evil.
"No Xander, it's too dangerous," he repeated the words Buffy told him in his best mocking impression of her voice while making odd movements with his head, further illustrating his dislike of the whole situation. His two best friends were gone, Anya was dead and the Buffy's younger, less sane equivalent had taken over the slaying operations in Sunnydale. Worst of all though, he had agreed when Dawn suggested Andrew move in with him when the Scooby gang's resident geek was looking for a place to stay.
"It must have been a spell," Xander concluded as he settled on watching an old movie, one of those sappy black and white romance films where everybody ends up happy, the guy meets the girl of his dreams, marries her and no one and doesn't have any problems for the rest of their lives. It was a stark contrast to his own. "That's how they talked me into this," the door opened again, he turned to see what Andrew was trying to bring in now. "It must have been a spell."
"I know, I know," Andrew was already speaking when he entered the door, carrying a large cardboard standup of a person. "I'll put my life size Princess Leia standup in the closet too." Xander popped to his feet, staring intently at the cardboard replication of the famous character in a gold bikini, remembering old boyhood fantasies.
"You know what Andrew," he walked towards the door, grabbing the standup away from his new roommate. "There's no sense in putting all your stuff in the closet, I mean, this is your place to now." A smile appeared on the nerd's face. "In fact, I think Leia here might be more comfortable in my room."
"Great!" Andrew agreed. "And I was thinking my Captain Archer curtains would look great –" Andrew began to point to a window when Xander cut him off.
"In the closet," Xander reiterated before vanishing to his room, the Princess Leia standup tucked under his arm.
As Xander's door slammed, Andrew sighed. "I should've gone with Buffy and Willow."
***
"Wait a second!" Dawn protested, running up to Faith as she sheathed her dagger and Robert replaced his pistol in the holster underneath his arm. "You two know each other?" She asked, glancing first at Faith, then back at Robert and finally back at Faith. After having a gun aimed at her, the last thing Dawn wanted to see was Faith, who was supposed to be looking out for her, catching up on old times with the person who was holding said gun.
"Long story," both answered in unison. Robert backed away from the Slayer and Dawn, retrieving his other pistol from the ground and replacing it in the holster beneath his arm, concealed by his trench coat.
Staring at him for a moment, realizing he was staring at her, Faith decided something needed to be said to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the three individuals. "Umm … right, introductions, that might help." It did not occur to Faith exactly how forced her comment sounded. "Robert Bloodworth, Dawn Summers." Robert extended his hand, Dawn hesitantly shaking it. "Robert worked at the prison where I was on vacation for a few years." Faith then remembered the circumstances surrounding the last time they had seen each other, close to a year ago.
"And now you kill vampires," Dawn observed, presenting a question Faith was considering asking herself. "Interesting career move."
"Yeah, well, you might say I had a little experience with it in the past. Guess I got hooked on it," Robert shot Faith a knowing glance, a clear indication that there was a story, probably a long one, behind that comment.
"You took out those two vamps like they were nothing," Faith added. Vampires, for the most part, were easy for her but she had never seen a normal person dust one so easily, let alone two.
Robert shrugged. "A lot of practice since the last time I saw you Faith." She looked into his eyes. Faith could tell when he was hiding something from her but decided not to press the issue.
"Well, good thing you were here I guess," was Dawn's way of thanking Robert for the timely intervention on her behalf.
"We had it under control," Faith quickly retorted. She did not want to make Robert's rescue of Dawn seem as needed as it was, not admitting that she might not have gotten there in time to save her. "Didn't we Dawn?" Faith looked to her for support, finding none in her unsteady eyes and silent voice.
"Yeah, it sure looked like it."
"So what're you doing in Sunnydale Robert?" Faith asked, eager to change the topic. The last thing she wanted was Robert of all people attacking her skills as a Slayer or her skills at keeping her promise to take care of Buffy's sister.
"Well aside from coming to the timely rescue of Dawn," Robert said sarcastically, a deliberate and successful attempt to push Faith's buttons. "I was actually looking for you."
"Why?" Faith asked, rather rudely. Though she could think of a million reasons Robert might seek her out, none of them seemed to fit the situation at hand.
"I have my reasons," Robert said with a wry grin on his face. For once, he was the one with the secrets and he knew how not knowing drove Faith crazy, especially when she was used to being the one holding all of the cards. With a gesture from Robert, Dawn and Faith followed him on the path out of the cemetery. "Why don't we all go get a cup of coffee and," he turned his head, gazing into Faith's eyes, remembering in an instant how beautiful he always thought they were. "We can catch up."
"Sounds great," Dawn enthusiastically chimed in.
Faith gave her a knowing gaze. "You have your first day of school tomorrow."
"Like you never skipped a day of school?" Though Faith never shared any particular stories with Dawn, she doubted the Slayer had the model attendance record during her days as a schoolgirl.
"And look how she turned out," Robert beat Faith to the punch, giving the Slayer another grin, knowing his confident and sarcastic demeanor was getting under her skin.
"Hmm … good point," Dawn admitted.
"All right," Faith was now increasingly frustrated with the combined attacks of Dawn and Robert. "Did anyone tell you two that pissing off the Slayer is not a good idea?"
"Oh, but you're reformed now remember?" Robert landed another blow.
"Lucky for you." Faith quickly replied with a smile in the direction of both Dawn and Robert. "Both of you," she clarified.
"Well uh, how about that cup of coffee?" Dawn broke the three seconds of silence following Faith's lighthearted threat.
"You are going home and going to bed so you can get up and enjoy your first day of high school and so you're not half asleep due to not sleeping from a coffee high while you're trying to help Kennedy get adjusted." Faith's statement to Dawn left no room for argument. Seeing the disappointed look on Dawn's face, Faith realized that simply giving orders and stating facts sometimes wasn't the best way to handle things. "We'll walk you home."
"I can manage," Dawn shrugged.
"You sure?" Robert was the first to ask. "Where there's two vamps there might be more. Usually is."
"Yeah, seeing their friends get dusted doesn't tend to do much to discourage them." Faith added, feeling as though she needed to contribute some concern, Dawn being her responsibility after all.
"I'll be fine," Dawn reassured her. "It's not far from here anyways."
"Be careful," Faith got the final word as Dawn walked down the road in the opposite direction from her and Robert. Leaving the cemetery and strolling in the direction of the Espresso Pump, neither Faith nor Robert seemed very eager to talk.
"It's good to see you Faith," Robert turned his eyes away from the road ahead and looked at the young woman by his side. Faith did not return the look, merely kept her eyes on the road ahead.
"Yeah," she agreed. "It's been a while." Following another moment of silence, she continued. "So what happened after you left the prison? I asked a few of the other guards and no one seemed to know, it was like you just disappeared."
"That's not concern I hear in your voice is it?"
"Curiosity," Faith corrected him.
"After that little incident a year ago," Robert began to summarize an entirely too long story to tell at the moment. He gave Faith a hard look. "Took off on what you might call a little voyage of self-discovery. Ended up in Texas, London, Hong Kong, Tibet, New York, Brazil, and half a dozen other less pleasant places until I finally got back to L.A. When I went to the prison to find you, they told me you had escaped. I tracked down your friend Angel and he told me what happened."
"Well it seems like you pretty much know the story of my life for the past year, all I know about you is that you visited a bunch of places on some finding yourself trip." Faith remarked before pointing a turn they needed to make. "I guess that's only fitting though."
"Considering I hardly ever knew anything about you, yeah, I say that makes us even." Robert looked at Faith's newly resigned expression, knowing he struck a nerve he shouldn't have. "I went through a lot Faith, a lot to get me here. I'll tell you about it someday, when I'm ready to."
"Hey, whatever," Faith remarked nonchalantly.
"You all right?" Robert looked at her, wondering what it was he said wrong.
"Hey, I'm five by five," she quickly answered, some spark returning to her face. "It's just weird seeing you again. Especially seeing you as a vampire ass kicker." Faith enthusiastically noted his dusting of the two vamps several minutes earlier. Regardless of his reasons for coming, if he wanted to stick around, it could be good to have him. "Where'd you learn to fight vamps like that anyways?" She reached what she was really curious about.
"Different part of the long story," he answered grimly.
Faith opened her mouth to press for more information when she spotted a figure walking down the street and realized that ripping secrets away from Robert would have to wait. Spike approached the two of them with a purpose, barely acknowledging Robert as he approached Faith. "Speaking of vampires," she whispered before Spike was close enough to hear.
Though he had heard of Spike and knew he was closer to the friend column rather than the enemy, there was something about vampires, any vampires that he did not trust. His hand rested over his sword underneath is trench coat.
"Slayer," Spike stopped an arm's length in front of her and Robert.
"Spike," Faith acknowledged, locking eyes with the vampire, an air of tension settling in between them.
"Robert," he broke the tension, drawing glares from both Faith and Spike.
The vampire did not respond, turning back to Faith. "We need to talk."
***
"No Dawn, you can't go out with the grownups," Dawn whined, doing a poor imitation of Faith as she negotiated the streets on the way to her house, that was also Faith's house, thanks to her sister. "And don't try to question me, because I'm psycho Slayer girl." Being only a few blocks from her house and a considerable distance from where she left Robert and Faith, she wasn't overly worried about her new guardian overhearing the comment.
Rounding a corner, now only three blocks from her home, Dawn thought she heard footsteps behind her. She quickly turned around, looking over her shoulder and seeing nothing. Dismissing it as the wind or leaves, she continued on. "You have to go to school so you can learn about people who've been dead for two hundred years that didn't come back to life and help little foreign girl get used to life in the amazing, highly-rated American public school system."
Another sound. Dawn was determined this time that something was indeed following her. She gripped the sword in her hand tightly and spun around, the weapon in a ready position to see nothing behind her. She relaxed, lowering the weapon back to her side. "Maybe Faith was right," she admitted. "Maybe I do need some sleep." She turned around and continued walking. "She's just so inflexible, never listens, always thinks she's right."
Less than a block from her house, Dawn finally allowed her guard to relax when it struck. From the blackness behind her, it attacked, knocking her to the ground. She recovered quickly, retrieving the sword from the ground and preparing to defend herself but saw nothing around her. "All right!" She shouted into the night. "Vampire or demon or whatever you are! Let's get this over with!"
"Soon," a voice echoed all around her. Dawn wasn't sure if she actually heard it or if it was just in her mind. Regardless, it was frightening. "Soon, sister of the Slayer, you will know pain, you will know fear and you will know suffering beyond your darkest fears. I have arrived."
"Well, if I'm going to know you arrived, might help me to know who you are!" Dawn cringed from the physical pain she felt hearing the voice. When she finished speaking, she heard nothing but laughter.
***
"Weird," Kennedy remarked with a shrug as she carried two mugs of steaming hot chocolate to the kitchen table, setting one down in front of Dawn and holding on to one, sitting down at the chair next to Dawn.
"Weird!" Dawn echoed, thinking Kennedy failed to understand exactly what it was she was saying. "No, no, no," Dawn frantically corrected. "Weird is the meatloaf in the school cafeteria, weird is the new demon karaoke bar downtown that Faith took me to last week."
"Faith took you there?" Kennedy hastily interrupted Dawn's ramblings. Since that particular bar opened two months ago, she had been persistent in asking the Slayer to take her there to stir up some action.
"Yeah," Dawn answered, obviously not caring about that particular point. "She was looking for this Me'ika demon that robbed an armored car at the bank and we got a lead that it might be there so we checked it out."
"I've been begging her to take me there so we could get some action," Kennedy puffed. "Wonder why she took you," she mused, not intending it to insult Dawn in the way it did. "Sorry," she said, seeing Dawn's reaction. "It's just, I know she promised to keep training you but I'm the potential here, you'd think –" Dawn cut her off.
"Would you focus on the issue here? Some evil thing terrorized me on the street. It knew who I was and it promised pain and suffering, not generally considered good things." Dawn's fear in regards to the attack she was victim to did not go unnoticed by Kennedy.
"So," Kennedy took a long sip of her hot chocolate. "We'll figure out whatever it was, find it, kill it." She made it sound simple, Dawn obviously not thinking it would be so. "Besides," Kennedy decided a subject change was in order as she placed a comforting hand on top of Dawn's. "We've got bigger things to worry about."
"Like?" Dawn asked with a raised eyebrow.
"What we're wearing for the first day of school tomorrow." Kennedy left the table, bolting up the stairs, anxious to start trying on outfits.
Dawn slowly followed. "Excited about the first day of school, something evil really is going on here. As the two girls retreated upstairs, three pairs of glowing green eyes outside the Summers' home watched. Knowing their habits of their enemies, memorizing their every move, every routine was the key to knowing the perfect time to strike. That time would be soon.