Chapter Twenty-one: Man vs. Beast

Spike was walking the basement floor frantically, an unlit cigarette in his hand. Brilliant! Just bloody brilliant! Angel comes in and saves the day.

Spike was just getting used to the idea of being human, of being with Buffy for real, and then Angel has to come along and ruin it, take credit for the whole, soddin' thing. Self-righteous poofter! Damn him.

Spike threw the cigarette to the ground in frustration and ground it into the cement with his boot. Things were just getting better and better.

"I thought you would have given that up," Angel said, as he made his way down the stairs. "It's a nasty habit."

Spike picked his eyes up from the floor and glowered at Angel. "What . . . the hell . . . do you want?" he said slowly.

"Oh, I don't know." Angel shrugged. "Peace on earth. An end to famine and disease. A nice house in the Valley maybe? Oh, and your gruesome, horrible death."

"Come again?" Spike asked. "You just saved my bleedin' life."

"I know." Angel crossed the floor with determination. "I'm not really sure that was such a good idea."

"So what? You gonna kill me now? Murder a defenseless human?"

"You're not defenseless." Angel pulled a stake out of the lining of his jacket and threw it to Spike.

Instinctually, Spike caught it. "You've got to be kidding."

"Nope." Angel shook his head slowly. "You see Spike, I know you're human and all. I know you think you've been given a second chance. But you don't deserve one. Not until you've paid for the mistakes you made the first time around."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Angel said, moving forward and closing the distance between them, "that you get to pay for what you've done to Buffy."

Spike narrowed his eyes and stared at Angel searchingly. What was he on about? "What I've done to Buffy?"

"Do I need to refresh your memory Spike?" Angel hissed in his ear.

"Well, yeah mate," he said, backing away slightly. "I'm afraid you'll have to. Don't quite know what you're talking about."

"Oh really?" Angel took a few steps back and began walking the floor as he spoke. "I don't know how long ago it happened. The vision didn't specify. Sometime after you slept with Anya."

"What?"

"Oh?" Angel stopped to look at him. "Don't remember that?"

"Yeah, I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure really. But time wise, it gives us a point of reference."

"For what?"

"For the night you tried to rape Buffy."

Spike felt all the blood seep from his veins. He suddenly felt cold and lightheaded. "How did you know about that?"

Angel laughed. "The Oracles of course. Just couldn't resist telling me. Well, showing me actually. You see Spike," he said, coming up to him again, "I saw it all. Every last second of it. And maybe Buffy was able to forgive and forget, but I'm not. I can see it like it was yesterday. I don't care how much time has past, or how much redemption you think you've earned. What you did was unforgivable, and it's time someone made you pay."

Angel pulled back his fist and pounded it into Spike. Spike instantly flew back against the wall and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Oh come on now. You can do better than that. Get up and show me some of that fight. If you could show it to Buffy, why can't you show it to me?"

Spike growled and pushed himself up from the floor, pouncing on Angel in a swift, predatory move. They both landed on the floor. Spike was on top, and was able to land a few good punches before Angel shoved him off.

"Not so easy when you're not fighting little girls, is it?" Angel asked, as he stood up and took a determined step toward Spike.

"That was over a bloody year ago. A lot's changed."

"Not that much," Angel said, leaning down and grabbing Spike by the shirt. He dragged him to his feet. "It'll never be enough." He punched Spike with his free hand, over and over again.

Spike tried to break from his grasp, but couldn't.

Finally, Angel shoved Spike away from him. He opened up his arms offering Spike free access to his chest. "So, come on Spike. Let me have it. Come at me. Give me a reason to kill you."

Spike watched him cautiously. He didn't trust Angel. As much as he was supposed to be one of the good guys, there was no doubt in Spike's mind that Angel seriously meant to kill him, if given half a chance. Despite the rage burning in his own veins, he couldn't take the bait.

Spike dropped the stake. "I can't do it, and you know it."

"Why?" Angel mocked. "Because Buffy wouldn't like it?"

"Because I can't."

"Oh right. Because you're a defenseless, pathetic human. I'm not buying it Spike." Angel bent down and picked up the stake, throwing it back to his adversary. "Now fight."

Spike looked down at the stake in his hands and contemplated his choices. As much as he hated Angel, Angel had every right to want to kill him. If Angel had ever hurt Buffy like that, Spike would have wanted to rip out his heart and tear it into little pieces. Giving Angel his chance was only fair.

Wrapping his fist tightly around the stake, Spike took a step forward and slugged Angel. Then the fighting really began in earnest.

* * *

Upstairs, Buffy and Dawn were listening to the commotion coming from the basement.

"I have to go down there," Buffy said, as she made for the door.

"No you don't." Dawn moved in front of her, blocking the way with her body.

"Out of my way Dawn."

"No."

"Angel's going to kill him."

"Buffy, you can't go down there. You can't save Spike. This is something he has to do on his own. How do you think he's going to feel if you have to come in and win every battle for him? This is Angel he's fighting. They have a history together. Swooping down now and playing the big, shining hero, is the worst thing you could do. We're just going to have to ride this out."

Buffy eyed her sister with worry. Dawn was right, but somehow that didn't make things any easier.

* * *

"Did you really think I'd let you win?" Angel asked, as he threw Spike down on the table and hovered over him threateningly, lumpies in full force. "I could rip your throat out right now."

Spike tried to push Angel off of him, but couldn't. Angel bared his fangs and went for Spike's neck. Spike steeled his nerves and kneed Angel in the groin.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Angel cursed as he pulled back in pain and surprise.

Spike scrambled from the table and came to stand on the edge of the room. He watched Angel warily.

"So, you still have some guts, do you? Always were an insufferable upstart. I'm glad I'm going to be the one who gets to put you down for good."

Angel took a few cagey steps toward Spike, who was already beginning to feel the strains of the battle. His muscles were aching, and he could swear a couple of his ribs were broken. If he did survive this, it would take him an eternity to recover. Angel looked like he hadn't been in a fight at all. There was nary a scratch on him.

"What?" Spike asked, swiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Haven't had enough mate?"

"No. Not quite. I won't be happy until I see you really suffer." Angel moved forward slowly and took position in front of Spike. Without warning, he drove his fist into Spike's face and began pounding him senseless.

Spike got in a few good blows himself, but he was weakening. His human body was no match for Angel's vamp strength. Desperately afraid that he really might die, he raised the stake in his left hand and slammed it up against Angel's heart.

Angel's fist stopped flying as he felt the point of the wood connect with his chest. He laughed harshly. "Go ahead. Do it Spike. I dare you. Make Buffy proud."

Spike growled. Calling on his last reserve of strength, he pulled back the stake and drove it into Angel's chest, purposefully striking him just below the heart.

"You ungrateful whelp," Angel growled, as he looked down at the stake protruding from his chest.

"Well," Spike shrugged, "shouldn't really surprise you." Spike stepped away from the wall and walked past Angel, giving him his back. If Angel decided to pursue him, he knew he was dead.

Angel pulled the stake from his chest with a sickening roar.

Spike ignored him.

Somehow managing to walk, despite the trembling in his legs, he mounted the stairs, and began the long ascent up to the kitchen. His joints ached, he was bleeding from several different places and he felt like he was going to pass out. Still, he had to make it to the top of the steps and make a good show for Angel.

Finally, he reached the door and opened it. There, standing in front of him was Buffy, a terrified look on her face. Spike smiled at her wanly and then collapsed in her arms.