~
He spit the dangling cigarette butt out of his mouth, before glaring around at the scenery. He was in a nauseatingly cute town, complete with wicket fences and all, with March dandelions just barely popping up from out of the grass. Clean cut and wholesome façade. It was * brilliant. *
"It's a bloody riot." He muttered, taking in the irony of the situation. Cute town hosts the door to the netherworld. It was classic. Gathering his thoughts, he swung his duster behind him, storming into a tiny bar with a sign that read "Willy's."
He needed some answers.
~
"Mo-om!" Buffy whined as she tromped down the stairs after her mother, "Please! Come on!"
"No." Joyce spun around, standing her ground, "You've been going out far too often, young lady. One night of not going to the Bronze won't kill you."
"Yes it will!" Buffy argued, blocking her mom's entrance into the kitchen, "Please? Willow, Xander, Jess, and Dawn are all going! And, and it's not like I'm gonna binge drink or anything." Joyce raised her eyebrows at that, "Not that I * normally * binge drink! Or even drink! I don't even know what beer tastes like! Rumor is, it's kinda bitter." Buffy stumbled in an effort to back pedal. Joyce shook her head.
"No, I'm standing my ground. I am the authority figure and I say 'No.'" Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Is this all because of that parenting seminar you took last month?" She inquired, having figured Joyce out. Her face fell.
"According to the SPAT, I'm the Quintessential Doormat." Joyce said, moving to the living room and sitting down with a pout that clearly resembled Buffy's.
"The Spat?" Buffy asked.
"The Specialized Parental Analysis Test. They said that if my children pushed me hard enough, I would let them do whatever they wanted." Buffy flopped down on the cushion next to her, taking her mom's shoulders in her hands.
"You can't deny who you are, Mom! Embrace your Doormattiness!" Joyce cast Buffy a sidelong glare.
"Now, you're * definitely * not going out tonight." With that, Joyce stood up and walked into her original destination - the kitchen. Buffy groaned and sprawled out over the couch, jutting her lower lip out.
"Meany!" She cried out.
"I love you, too, honey."
~
"She lives!" Xander hopped over to his friend as Buffy walked through the library's double doors, after sneaking out through her window.
"Yeah, yeah." Buffy said with a crooked smile. Xander tossed his arm around her melodramatically.
"And we thought you would have perished in the treacherous journey from the second story of your abode...to here." He finished with a decrescendo. Spike rolled his eyes as he came out from behind the bookshelf.
"Harris, do you try to make an ass of yourself or does it just come naturally?" Buffy gave Spike a look but pecked him on the cheek.
"Try to be civil." She whispered. Spike rolled his eyes again.
"I wasn't being an ass." Xander argued, "I thought I was being quite friendly."
"Didn't say you * being * an ass." Spike explained, "I said you were * making * an ass of yourself. Big difference, mate." Xander just made a face in reply and sat down sullenly. Buffy shook her head and glanced at Spike, trying to remember what she needed to ask him.
Oh, yeah.
"Spike, do you remember January?" Buffy asked. Spike rubbed his chin.
"Yeah, nice chit. About your height, blondey-browny hair. Didn't she have obsessive compulsive disorder?" Buffy gave him a confused look before shaking her head.
"Your wit is lacking, Mr. Goody-Goody." Spike backed up subtly, but went for it.
"Watch it." He said with a smile, but regretted it when he saw Buffy's eyes grow two times their usual size and her knuckles whiten. Then, she blinked and smiled, obviously planning on letting that one go. It was weird. She had wanted him to talk about it with her when he wouldn't, but now that she had his cooperation, she never mentioned them, even when Spike knew they occurred.
Spike smirked as Buffy regained her original stance. Women.
"Seriously, though, before the whole Mollusk guy thing?"
"Moloch, you mean?" Xander interjected.
"Yeah, him. Anyway, you were gonna do some research about upcoming apocalypses for me, remember?"
SHIT!
Spike grit his teeth, remembering that he wanted to get the spell for The Choosers. How the hell had that slipped his mind?
Buffy leaned over to point something out to Xander, immediately revealing her cleavage to Spike.
Oh, right.
"Yeah, pet. I'll look into it. In fact, now would be a good time, doncha think? So do I. Cheers." He moved his way swiftly out of the library.
He needed some answers.
~
He sat at the bar, looking the patrons up and down with a skillful eye, as he waited to be served. Suddenly, a small, almost weasel-like human popped up from behind the counter.
"Hey, kid." He cocked his eyebrow at the tiny man's lack of fear.
"Hey yourself. Anyway a bloke can get a soddin' drink around these parts?" Willy, as he assumed was his name, smiled and nodded.
"I'll get ya your usual." My usual? And why did he call me 'kid?' I'm sure as hell older than that git...
"My usual?" Willy nodded.
"Pig's blood and bourbon, on the rocks." Pigs blood?!?!
"Pig's blood?" He laughed out dubiously, "Why the fuck would I want pig's blood?" Willy suddenly looked confused, and then frightened, as if he were finally taking in who the vampire was.
"That's what I thought. Heard you were famous for your human. So I'll have * that * with bourbon. On the rocks." He added, but Willy wasn't listening.
"No, no, no... * you're * not supposed to be here!" He shouted harshly.
"Who the f-" He began; snapping into a defensive position, ready to pound the creature before him into oblivion. But Willy cut him off.
"You're supposed to be in Prague! With Drusilla!" His features softened at the name of his dark princess.
"Dru's still there, mate. I came to find out what the bloody hell was going on. Got rightly pounded by one of those damned Fyral demons. It said "You bad vampire! Bad vampire!" Course, I was confused, since, well, let's face it," He pointed to himself, "Evil. So it was sorta statin' the obvious. Then, calmly as I could I asked him what the bleedin' fuck he was talkin' about. He said, "Vampire help Slayer. That make bad vampire. Bad vampire! Want rocks to crush!" Then he scampered off with some boulder and...well, crushed it. But it left me bloody confused. After talking to and beating the right people at the right time, I found out what was goin' on. Some ninny is posing as me, * William the Bloody, * by prancin' around acting like a noble vampire or some shit like that. As though I decided to follow in my bloody grandsire's footsteps or something, bleedin' bastard." Willy nodded heavily and closed his eyes, as though he was trying to think fast.
"This is certainly a setback. The last thing I expected was for you to show up." He stepped back in shock as the small man in front of him morphed into...well, another small man, complete with a Jazz singer ensemble, sans the dark glasses and cigar.
"Hey, wait a minute..."
"I'm not Willy, I'm Whistler. I'm the only one who really knows what's going on in this reality."
"This reality?"
"There's many realities, but that's besides the point. You just have to leave." His blue eyes turned to ice as he glared at Whistler.
"No can do, mate. That tosser is makin' me out to be some sort of Pansy." Whistler gulped and tried to reason with the angry vampire.
"But you're Spike! You set your own rules...you don't care what those demons think of you."
"I care if they rip my bloody private parts off cuz of it!" He roared.
"You can fight them off. You're strong, you're able." Whistler's forehead began to trickle perspiration.
"It's not 'them' that I'm even worried about." His eyes darkened mournfully, "It's Dru. She won't even look at me the same way anymore. Thinks I'm a traitor. And I'm * not * a traitor." He whispered venomously, as though daring Whistler to contradict him, "Now you're gonna tell me who is pretendin' to be me."
"I can't tell you that." Whistler said with a sigh. He stood up and grabbed the smaller man's neck.
"Perhaps I can convince you." Whistler's eyes widened and he shook the demon off of him.
"I can't tell you who is pretending to be you because no one is pretending to be you." He furrowed his brow.
"So, what? There's no Clean 'n Shiny Spike runnin' around these parts?"
"Oh, there is. But no one is pretending anything." With that said, Whistler exited to the room behind him, leaving a confused and pensive vampire behind him.
Suddenly, a tiny light bulb appeared over Spike's head.
Spike - Version 2.0 is helping the Slayer. The Slayer * obviously * trusts him...
He smiled mirthlessly as he concocted a plan deep within his mind.
~
Spike looked down at the crude slip of paper that Dawn had written the spell on two months earlier. Kinda pointless if she wasn't even plannin' on giving it to me...
However, he read
"O Great Choosers of Destiny
Bring Me Forth To Thine Wonder
I Request A Gathering"
WHOOSH!
"Dammit." Spike fell face down onto a hard surface, once again, as a bright, blinding light scorched every one of the dead cells that made up his body. "Do ya mind?" The lights faded to a soft dim. The Keeper of The Earthly Secrets glared down at Spike.
"We knew you were coming." Spike rolled his eyes.
"Naturally."
"We are displeased. You have made no progress with the elder vampire."
"I made him really, really mad!" Spike offered faux cheerfully.
"He is not planning on leaving." Spike sighed.
"He's a tougher egg to crack than I thought, which is saying a helluva lot, believe me." Spike brushed some excess dust off of his coat, "Can't you just work your magic and make him leave?"
"There are some things we cannot control, Vampire."
"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Spike?" The Chooser ignored him.
"In the beginning of time, humans were given free will."
"Yet you write destinies, isn't that a contradiction?" Spike asked, becoming genuinely curious.
"Fate is nothing but carefully placed circumstances. That is what is beyond human control. However, humans have free will, which is beyond our control. It is an endless cycle. We do have an advantage, though. For every single one of earth's creatures, from the Lork demon to the vampire to the human to the swan to the centipede, we know every choice they will make. Based on that, we create new circumstances, using their choice as the base for * our * choices for them." Spike processed this and swallowed, astounded by its intertwining complexity and simplicity.
"Makes sense." He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He cleared his throat and looked up at them.
"But you can't know everything."
"Excuse me?" The tallest Chooser was taken aback.
"Some vamp Buffy staked about-"
"3 months ago. Yes, of course. Victor was his name, in life anyway. He said that it would come sooner than they thought it would. You assumed that 'they' was 'us.'"
"Well, yeah."
"You assumed wrongly. We know exactly when it will come. In fact, it has started already. The first piece to the puzzle has been set in place."
"It's not just one thing, like that Glory chippy?"
"No. There are more than one circumstances. Just remember, Vampire, that everything is twisted between time and dreams."
"Yeah, you said that before, but I've no clue what you mean by it."
"Time is twisted with time, dreams are twisted with dreams, and time is twisted with dreams." Spike felt dizzy.
"Didn't follow you round that bend, mate."
"I know." Spike blinked. "In time, you will."
"That bloody T-word again." Spike grumbled.
"All will unravel in the end, William."
In a flash and a pull, Spike was back in the library.
"Bloody hell..." He paced around his apartment, then stopped, needing to refocus everything. Twisted between time and dreams? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
All he knew was that it was beginning.
~
Xander smiled charmingly at the female bartender at the Bronze, hoping to woo her into giving him alcohol to bring over to his friends.
"Hi, there. I'll take 3 beers and two Cokes." He said with a little wink.
"You better be missin' the word 'Root' there, kid." She stated without even looking up from the cocktail she was mixing. Xander sighed and consented with a wave of his hand, hope lost.
"Or maybe not..." He whispered as he saw a familiar bleached blonde come his way. Xander walked over to Spike and grabbed his arm.
"Hey, Evil Dead. Can ya order three beers for me?" Spike's face rumpled into confusion, with a hint of disgust. Xander sighed.
"C'mon, man. You have to." Spike still continued to stare at him as if Xander had grown a third ear, "Okay, so you don't * have * to, but we'd all appreciate it." Spike chuckled and shook his head.
"Do I even bloody know you?" Xander raised his eyebrows in shock.
"Um, are you on something? It's me, Xander. Xan the Man, ring a bell in that platinum shell of a head?" He joked nervously, awaiting Spike's reaction. A small, slow smile crept across the vampire's face.
"Right." He replied softly, taking in Xander's form. "Lemme get those beers for you. Is the slayer here?"
"The slayer? Don't you mean your * girlfriend? *" Xander asked incredulously. The smile from Spike's face disappeared in a flash.
Girlfriend?!? Oh, I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch.
"Right. Yeah. Girlfriend. Of course. In my 'work mind frame' I guess." Spike improvised.
"Right..." Xander trailed off, the awkwardness of the conversation sinking in, "I'm just gonna head back. Are you gonna come or..."
"Don't you want your beers?" Spike asked, reveling in the boy's discomfort.
"Nah, it's alright. I'll, uh, I'll just get the drinks later." Spike smirked as Xander dashed back to a table, where a group of three girls, a blonde, brunette, and red head, and another bloke sat. Spike's eyes lingered over the blonde for a second, taking in her confident aura and strong muscle definition.
She was the Slayer.
There was no doubt in his mind, as he rounded the club, never faltering his gaze upon her. The way she moved, the way she sat, the way she spoke...it all pointed to the obvious conclusion.
Part of him wanted to just attack.
But another part of him, the not-often-used rational side, knew that he needed to wait.
He knew that before he could shake their worlds into oblivion, he needed to do his homework.
~
Over the course of the next few days, Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. Of course, I probably am...being the Slayer and all. But that doesn't make it any less wiggy... She clutched her stake tightly to her, when she felt a cool hand on her back.
"Ah!" Buffy yelped, jumping back. Spike just cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, God, Spike. You scared me."
"Sorry. What are you so antsy about?" He said, rubbing her shoulders and dipping down to lightly brush his lips over the nape of her neck.
"Do you ever feel like you're being followed?"
"Is this a rhetorical question?" Buffy ignored him.
"Cuz, lately, I've had this weird feeling, new weird feelings, not like the flashback ones, but anyway, this feeling that someone, or something, has been trailing me."
"Probably just a demon, trying to figure out your living style. I wouldn't worry about it too much." Spike reasoned.
"But, what if it's the Big Bad?" Buffy giggled, "The 'Big Bad,' where do I come up with this stuff?" Spike just smiled in response.
"Just try to be more aware of your surroundings."
"Spike, I'm the Slayer. Pretty aware by nature." Spike gave her a look.
"I mean, up the awareness factor. I'll even keep a lookout for ya, alright?" Buffy nodded and took Spike's hand into her own, squeezing it tightly. Spike grimaced from the pain it brought, but didn't say a word.
"Xander said he had a pretty weird run in with you at the Bronze yesterday. Why didn't you come over and say hello?" Buffy asked, looking up at her boyfriend God, could his cheekbones be anymore yum?
"What are you talking about, luv?" Spike replied slowly, positive he hadn't been to the Bronze in over a week. "I haven't been to the Bronze in over a week."
"That's not what Xander said. He said that you didn't know who he was, at first, seemed surprised when he called me your girlfriend, and was going to buy him, Jesse, and Dawn beers-"
"DAWN DRANK?!" Spike rounded on Buffy, making her step back with wide eyes.
"Um, no, cuz Xander got so freaked out by the way you were acting that he never let you get them. And what would be so wrong about Dawn drinking? She's done it before."
"She has, has she?" Oh, I'll kill her. No, first I'll torture her, and then I'll kill her. Or maybe just make her live as a shell of a once pretty girl...
"God, what's your issue?" Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath and smiled sheepishly at Buffy.
"Sorry. Just got a bit carried away there."
"Ya think?" Buffy put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows.
"Said I was sorry. Now, luv, I can guarantee that I was not at the Bronze last night, alright? I was working on figurin' out that damned apocalypse thing." Buffy nodded, remembering that Spike said he was going to do that.
"Maybe Xander just imagined it."
"Or maybe it was one of those shape-shifter demons."
"Shape-shifter demons?" Buffy asked curiously.
"Yeah, pretty rare, but they're around." Buffy nodded and frowned lightly. She took back Spike's hand and they walked the rest of the patrol in silence.
As soon as they were out of earshot, he stepped out from the shadows, a look of disgust playing on his features. Angel rolled his eyes and kicked the nearest gravestone.
He really wasn't sure why he tortured himself the way he did.
Maybe it had to do with the self-loathing that now ran through his veins.
Whatever it was, it wasn't worth watching the two of them make lovesick puppy faces at one another.
Behind a crypt, on the opposite side of the cemetery, another vampire stepped out, trying to control his fury as he watched the bloody wanker try to take over his identity. It was the first time he had seen the imposter and already he hated him. What was amazing was that he acted nothing like William, which was a plus, but still...he was good. And good was always an insult.
"Bloody imbecile." He muttered, flicking the cigarette to the ground and stomping on it.
He was almost ready.
~
tbc...
He spit the dangling cigarette butt out of his mouth, before glaring around at the scenery. He was in a nauseatingly cute town, complete with wicket fences and all, with March dandelions just barely popping up from out of the grass. Clean cut and wholesome façade. It was * brilliant. *
"It's a bloody riot." He muttered, taking in the irony of the situation. Cute town hosts the door to the netherworld. It was classic. Gathering his thoughts, he swung his duster behind him, storming into a tiny bar with a sign that read "Willy's."
He needed some answers.
~
"Mo-om!" Buffy whined as she tromped down the stairs after her mother, "Please! Come on!"
"No." Joyce spun around, standing her ground, "You've been going out far too often, young lady. One night of not going to the Bronze won't kill you."
"Yes it will!" Buffy argued, blocking her mom's entrance into the kitchen, "Please? Willow, Xander, Jess, and Dawn are all going! And, and it's not like I'm gonna binge drink or anything." Joyce raised her eyebrows at that, "Not that I * normally * binge drink! Or even drink! I don't even know what beer tastes like! Rumor is, it's kinda bitter." Buffy stumbled in an effort to back pedal. Joyce shook her head.
"No, I'm standing my ground. I am the authority figure and I say 'No.'" Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Is this all because of that parenting seminar you took last month?" She inquired, having figured Joyce out. Her face fell.
"According to the SPAT, I'm the Quintessential Doormat." Joyce said, moving to the living room and sitting down with a pout that clearly resembled Buffy's.
"The Spat?" Buffy asked.
"The Specialized Parental Analysis Test. They said that if my children pushed me hard enough, I would let them do whatever they wanted." Buffy flopped down on the cushion next to her, taking her mom's shoulders in her hands.
"You can't deny who you are, Mom! Embrace your Doormattiness!" Joyce cast Buffy a sidelong glare.
"Now, you're * definitely * not going out tonight." With that, Joyce stood up and walked into her original destination - the kitchen. Buffy groaned and sprawled out over the couch, jutting her lower lip out.
"Meany!" She cried out.
"I love you, too, honey."
~
"She lives!" Xander hopped over to his friend as Buffy walked through the library's double doors, after sneaking out through her window.
"Yeah, yeah." Buffy said with a crooked smile. Xander tossed his arm around her melodramatically.
"And we thought you would have perished in the treacherous journey from the second story of your abode...to here." He finished with a decrescendo. Spike rolled his eyes as he came out from behind the bookshelf.
"Harris, do you try to make an ass of yourself or does it just come naturally?" Buffy gave Spike a look but pecked him on the cheek.
"Try to be civil." She whispered. Spike rolled his eyes again.
"I wasn't being an ass." Xander argued, "I thought I was being quite friendly."
"Didn't say you * being * an ass." Spike explained, "I said you were * making * an ass of yourself. Big difference, mate." Xander just made a face in reply and sat down sullenly. Buffy shook her head and glanced at Spike, trying to remember what she needed to ask him.
Oh, yeah.
"Spike, do you remember January?" Buffy asked. Spike rubbed his chin.
"Yeah, nice chit. About your height, blondey-browny hair. Didn't she have obsessive compulsive disorder?" Buffy gave him a confused look before shaking her head.
"Your wit is lacking, Mr. Goody-Goody." Spike backed up subtly, but went for it.
"Watch it." He said with a smile, but regretted it when he saw Buffy's eyes grow two times their usual size and her knuckles whiten. Then, she blinked and smiled, obviously planning on letting that one go. It was weird. She had wanted him to talk about it with her when he wouldn't, but now that she had his cooperation, she never mentioned them, even when Spike knew they occurred.
Spike smirked as Buffy regained her original stance. Women.
"Seriously, though, before the whole Mollusk guy thing?"
"Moloch, you mean?" Xander interjected.
"Yeah, him. Anyway, you were gonna do some research about upcoming apocalypses for me, remember?"
SHIT!
Spike grit his teeth, remembering that he wanted to get the spell for The Choosers. How the hell had that slipped his mind?
Buffy leaned over to point something out to Xander, immediately revealing her cleavage to Spike.
Oh, right.
"Yeah, pet. I'll look into it. In fact, now would be a good time, doncha think? So do I. Cheers." He moved his way swiftly out of the library.
He needed some answers.
~
He sat at the bar, looking the patrons up and down with a skillful eye, as he waited to be served. Suddenly, a small, almost weasel-like human popped up from behind the counter.
"Hey, kid." He cocked his eyebrow at the tiny man's lack of fear.
"Hey yourself. Anyway a bloke can get a soddin' drink around these parts?" Willy, as he assumed was his name, smiled and nodded.
"I'll get ya your usual." My usual? And why did he call me 'kid?' I'm sure as hell older than that git...
"My usual?" Willy nodded.
"Pig's blood and bourbon, on the rocks." Pigs blood?!?!
"Pig's blood?" He laughed out dubiously, "Why the fuck would I want pig's blood?" Willy suddenly looked confused, and then frightened, as if he were finally taking in who the vampire was.
"That's what I thought. Heard you were famous for your human. So I'll have * that * with bourbon. On the rocks." He added, but Willy wasn't listening.
"No, no, no... * you're * not supposed to be here!" He shouted harshly.
"Who the f-" He began; snapping into a defensive position, ready to pound the creature before him into oblivion. But Willy cut him off.
"You're supposed to be in Prague! With Drusilla!" His features softened at the name of his dark princess.
"Dru's still there, mate. I came to find out what the bloody hell was going on. Got rightly pounded by one of those damned Fyral demons. It said "You bad vampire! Bad vampire!" Course, I was confused, since, well, let's face it," He pointed to himself, "Evil. So it was sorta statin' the obvious. Then, calmly as I could I asked him what the bleedin' fuck he was talkin' about. He said, "Vampire help Slayer. That make bad vampire. Bad vampire! Want rocks to crush!" Then he scampered off with some boulder and...well, crushed it. But it left me bloody confused. After talking to and beating the right people at the right time, I found out what was goin' on. Some ninny is posing as me, * William the Bloody, * by prancin' around acting like a noble vampire or some shit like that. As though I decided to follow in my bloody grandsire's footsteps or something, bleedin' bastard." Willy nodded heavily and closed his eyes, as though he was trying to think fast.
"This is certainly a setback. The last thing I expected was for you to show up." He stepped back in shock as the small man in front of him morphed into...well, another small man, complete with a Jazz singer ensemble, sans the dark glasses and cigar.
"Hey, wait a minute..."
"I'm not Willy, I'm Whistler. I'm the only one who really knows what's going on in this reality."
"This reality?"
"There's many realities, but that's besides the point. You just have to leave." His blue eyes turned to ice as he glared at Whistler.
"No can do, mate. That tosser is makin' me out to be some sort of Pansy." Whistler gulped and tried to reason with the angry vampire.
"But you're Spike! You set your own rules...you don't care what those demons think of you."
"I care if they rip my bloody private parts off cuz of it!" He roared.
"You can fight them off. You're strong, you're able." Whistler's forehead began to trickle perspiration.
"It's not 'them' that I'm even worried about." His eyes darkened mournfully, "It's Dru. She won't even look at me the same way anymore. Thinks I'm a traitor. And I'm * not * a traitor." He whispered venomously, as though daring Whistler to contradict him, "Now you're gonna tell me who is pretendin' to be me."
"I can't tell you that." Whistler said with a sigh. He stood up and grabbed the smaller man's neck.
"Perhaps I can convince you." Whistler's eyes widened and he shook the demon off of him.
"I can't tell you who is pretending to be you because no one is pretending to be you." He furrowed his brow.
"So, what? There's no Clean 'n Shiny Spike runnin' around these parts?"
"Oh, there is. But no one is pretending anything." With that said, Whistler exited to the room behind him, leaving a confused and pensive vampire behind him.
Suddenly, a tiny light bulb appeared over Spike's head.
Spike - Version 2.0 is helping the Slayer. The Slayer * obviously * trusts him...
He smiled mirthlessly as he concocted a plan deep within his mind.
~
Spike looked down at the crude slip of paper that Dawn had written the spell on two months earlier. Kinda pointless if she wasn't even plannin' on giving it to me...
However, he read
"O Great Choosers of Destiny
Bring Me Forth To Thine Wonder
I Request A Gathering"
WHOOSH!
"Dammit." Spike fell face down onto a hard surface, once again, as a bright, blinding light scorched every one of the dead cells that made up his body. "Do ya mind?" The lights faded to a soft dim. The Keeper of The Earthly Secrets glared down at Spike.
"We knew you were coming." Spike rolled his eyes.
"Naturally."
"We are displeased. You have made no progress with the elder vampire."
"I made him really, really mad!" Spike offered faux cheerfully.
"He is not planning on leaving." Spike sighed.
"He's a tougher egg to crack than I thought, which is saying a helluva lot, believe me." Spike brushed some excess dust off of his coat, "Can't you just work your magic and make him leave?"
"There are some things we cannot control, Vampire."
"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Spike?" The Chooser ignored him.
"In the beginning of time, humans were given free will."
"Yet you write destinies, isn't that a contradiction?" Spike asked, becoming genuinely curious.
"Fate is nothing but carefully placed circumstances. That is what is beyond human control. However, humans have free will, which is beyond our control. It is an endless cycle. We do have an advantage, though. For every single one of earth's creatures, from the Lork demon to the vampire to the human to the swan to the centipede, we know every choice they will make. Based on that, we create new circumstances, using their choice as the base for * our * choices for them." Spike processed this and swallowed, astounded by its intertwining complexity and simplicity.
"Makes sense." He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He cleared his throat and looked up at them.
"But you can't know everything."
"Excuse me?" The tallest Chooser was taken aback.
"Some vamp Buffy staked about-"
"3 months ago. Yes, of course. Victor was his name, in life anyway. He said that it would come sooner than they thought it would. You assumed that 'they' was 'us.'"
"Well, yeah."
"You assumed wrongly. We know exactly when it will come. In fact, it has started already. The first piece to the puzzle has been set in place."
"It's not just one thing, like that Glory chippy?"
"No. There are more than one circumstances. Just remember, Vampire, that everything is twisted between time and dreams."
"Yeah, you said that before, but I've no clue what you mean by it."
"Time is twisted with time, dreams are twisted with dreams, and time is twisted with dreams." Spike felt dizzy.
"Didn't follow you round that bend, mate."
"I know." Spike blinked. "In time, you will."
"That bloody T-word again." Spike grumbled.
"All will unravel in the end, William."
In a flash and a pull, Spike was back in the library.
"Bloody hell..." He paced around his apartment, then stopped, needing to refocus everything. Twisted between time and dreams? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
All he knew was that it was beginning.
~
Xander smiled charmingly at the female bartender at the Bronze, hoping to woo her into giving him alcohol to bring over to his friends.
"Hi, there. I'll take 3 beers and two Cokes." He said with a little wink.
"You better be missin' the word 'Root' there, kid." She stated without even looking up from the cocktail she was mixing. Xander sighed and consented with a wave of his hand, hope lost.
"Or maybe not..." He whispered as he saw a familiar bleached blonde come his way. Xander walked over to Spike and grabbed his arm.
"Hey, Evil Dead. Can ya order three beers for me?" Spike's face rumpled into confusion, with a hint of disgust. Xander sighed.
"C'mon, man. You have to." Spike still continued to stare at him as if Xander had grown a third ear, "Okay, so you don't * have * to, but we'd all appreciate it." Spike chuckled and shook his head.
"Do I even bloody know you?" Xander raised his eyebrows in shock.
"Um, are you on something? It's me, Xander. Xan the Man, ring a bell in that platinum shell of a head?" He joked nervously, awaiting Spike's reaction. A small, slow smile crept across the vampire's face.
"Right." He replied softly, taking in Xander's form. "Lemme get those beers for you. Is the slayer here?"
"The slayer? Don't you mean your * girlfriend? *" Xander asked incredulously. The smile from Spike's face disappeared in a flash.
Girlfriend?!? Oh, I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch.
"Right. Yeah. Girlfriend. Of course. In my 'work mind frame' I guess." Spike improvised.
"Right..." Xander trailed off, the awkwardness of the conversation sinking in, "I'm just gonna head back. Are you gonna come or..."
"Don't you want your beers?" Spike asked, reveling in the boy's discomfort.
"Nah, it's alright. I'll, uh, I'll just get the drinks later." Spike smirked as Xander dashed back to a table, where a group of three girls, a blonde, brunette, and red head, and another bloke sat. Spike's eyes lingered over the blonde for a second, taking in her confident aura and strong muscle definition.
She was the Slayer.
There was no doubt in his mind, as he rounded the club, never faltering his gaze upon her. The way she moved, the way she sat, the way she spoke...it all pointed to the obvious conclusion.
Part of him wanted to just attack.
But another part of him, the not-often-used rational side, knew that he needed to wait.
He knew that before he could shake their worlds into oblivion, he needed to do his homework.
~
Over the course of the next few days, Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. Of course, I probably am...being the Slayer and all. But that doesn't make it any less wiggy... She clutched her stake tightly to her, when she felt a cool hand on her back.
"Ah!" Buffy yelped, jumping back. Spike just cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, God, Spike. You scared me."
"Sorry. What are you so antsy about?" He said, rubbing her shoulders and dipping down to lightly brush his lips over the nape of her neck.
"Do you ever feel like you're being followed?"
"Is this a rhetorical question?" Buffy ignored him.
"Cuz, lately, I've had this weird feeling, new weird feelings, not like the flashback ones, but anyway, this feeling that someone, or something, has been trailing me."
"Probably just a demon, trying to figure out your living style. I wouldn't worry about it too much." Spike reasoned.
"But, what if it's the Big Bad?" Buffy giggled, "The 'Big Bad,' where do I come up with this stuff?" Spike just smiled in response.
"Just try to be more aware of your surroundings."
"Spike, I'm the Slayer. Pretty aware by nature." Spike gave her a look.
"I mean, up the awareness factor. I'll even keep a lookout for ya, alright?" Buffy nodded and took Spike's hand into her own, squeezing it tightly. Spike grimaced from the pain it brought, but didn't say a word.
"Xander said he had a pretty weird run in with you at the Bronze yesterday. Why didn't you come over and say hello?" Buffy asked, looking up at her boyfriend God, could his cheekbones be anymore yum?
"What are you talking about, luv?" Spike replied slowly, positive he hadn't been to the Bronze in over a week. "I haven't been to the Bronze in over a week."
"That's not what Xander said. He said that you didn't know who he was, at first, seemed surprised when he called me your girlfriend, and was going to buy him, Jesse, and Dawn beers-"
"DAWN DRANK?!" Spike rounded on Buffy, making her step back with wide eyes.
"Um, no, cuz Xander got so freaked out by the way you were acting that he never let you get them. And what would be so wrong about Dawn drinking? She's done it before."
"She has, has she?" Oh, I'll kill her. No, first I'll torture her, and then I'll kill her. Or maybe just make her live as a shell of a once pretty girl...
"God, what's your issue?" Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath and smiled sheepishly at Buffy.
"Sorry. Just got a bit carried away there."
"Ya think?" Buffy put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows.
"Said I was sorry. Now, luv, I can guarantee that I was not at the Bronze last night, alright? I was working on figurin' out that damned apocalypse thing." Buffy nodded, remembering that Spike said he was going to do that.
"Maybe Xander just imagined it."
"Or maybe it was one of those shape-shifter demons."
"Shape-shifter demons?" Buffy asked curiously.
"Yeah, pretty rare, but they're around." Buffy nodded and frowned lightly. She took back Spike's hand and they walked the rest of the patrol in silence.
As soon as they were out of earshot, he stepped out from the shadows, a look of disgust playing on his features. Angel rolled his eyes and kicked the nearest gravestone.
He really wasn't sure why he tortured himself the way he did.
Maybe it had to do with the self-loathing that now ran through his veins.
Whatever it was, it wasn't worth watching the two of them make lovesick puppy faces at one another.
Behind a crypt, on the opposite side of the cemetery, another vampire stepped out, trying to control his fury as he watched the bloody wanker try to take over his identity. It was the first time he had seen the imposter and already he hated him. What was amazing was that he acted nothing like William, which was a plus, but still...he was good. And good was always an insult.
"Bloody imbecile." He muttered, flicking the cigarette to the ground and stomping on it.
He was almost ready.
~
tbc...
