A/n: Thanks to: cheeky-chaos, serenia-sd, lakergirl, Jade-K, X5-467, and nelita!!! I luv you guys!!! MWAH!!!!
Chapter Eight: To the Rescue
Lurking in the shadows, just outside Sunnydale High, Alec emitted a sudden jolt, as if electrocuted by only a few milliseconds. It was as if someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart straight through the chest, freezing him, warming him, calming him. It was a strangely pleasant feeling, but it was quickly disrupted by Spike's lilting British voice, whispering from beside him as they crouched underneath a large oak tree. "Who's bloody idea was it to let Buffy go inside alone, and act as bait?"
"We made no such idea about 'acting as bait'," Alec replied with a slight frown. Most people in the movies might think of it as an ingenious plan, but in reality, it was practically ineffective. "She ran in first and those Bringer guys grabbed her."
"We should've gone after her," Spike said shaking his head in disapproval.
"If we did, we would've been caught too," Alec pointed out. "When a Unit mate is detained and incarcerated by the enemy, secrete and formulate the preeminent plan to retrieve the objective."
"Rule in your soldier's book?"
"Number 178."
Spike merely shook his head in disbelief. "So you got a plan hidden there somewhere in that genetically enhanced brain of yours?"
Alec grinned wickedly. "Yeah. We break in. Get our girls. Then we run like hell."
"You've got to be kidding me!" Spike yelped. "Can you count? There are only two of us, and a dozen of them."
"No," another British voice spoke. "There are approximately twenty eight of us. I think that should be enough."
Alec whirled around and was met by an elderly man with graying hair, and spectacled eyes. Behind him were more than a few girls. "Ah, these must be the Potentials you were telling me about," Alec observed.
A guy with a black eye-patch stared at him. "Are you supposed to be a transgenic? You look like you just stepped out of one of Cordy's fashion magazine!"
The girls giggled, and Alec grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. And besides," he winked at the pretty red-head standing beside him. She blushed a sweet scarlet. "There's more to me than my looks."
The girls giggled again, and Xander rolled his eyes, ahem, eye. "Whatever," he muttered. "Let's just get on with this rescue mission."
"Sure, if you'd like to call it that." Spike said pessimistically. "We're walking into our funeral."
Alec smiled cheerfully. "How 'bout turning this funeral to a party then?" he turned around to the small group that had gathered. "You guys packing?"
They raised up daggers, blades, swords, and crossbows. Alec raised an eyebrow. "No guns?" he asked, blankly. The elderly man shook his head. Alec shrugged, pulled out his Glock 18, and loaded it. It gave out a satisfying click. He smiled. "Let's get this party started, people."
Buffy glowered at them, trying not to lose control of her anger. She couldn't believe that she allowed herself to be captured so easily. The damned beings were stronger than she thought they were. She wondered what was taking Spike and Alec so long. At the though of Alec, she fixed her eyes on the girl across the room. Max, as Alec had called her.
The first thing that had came into Buffy's mind when she saw her, was that she was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that was utterly flawless. Must be in the genes. She thought wryly. But that wasn't what caught her attention the most. It was her eyes. They flickered with pain. Pains from the past. Pains that she herself was familiar with. Pains that, Buffy knew, was very hard to get rid of. Unlike, Alec who was able to mask his feelings very well, Max had a hard time reigning in her temper. Her mouth was set on a firm scowl, and she glaring daggers at the priestess.
"I just wanna say sorry," Faith suddenly spoke, breaking her reverie. Buffy's head twisted to the left where the younger Slayer was standing. Her eyes shone with sincerity and earnestness that caught Buffy completely off guard. She has never said that before. Buffy thought, stunned. Nor had she ever thought that Faith would say it. "I don't expect you to forgive me – believe me, I don't even forgive myself." She laughed bitterly. "I just thought – that if we are going to die. You deserve to know that I wasn't proud for the things that I've done."
Buffy nodded, appreciating every ounce of authenticity that Faith had placed in her words. But she can never forgive her. Never. "Thank you," Buffy said. "But we're not going to die. Not yet anyway." She frowned. The chanting had stopped, and the Familiars had stopped moving. They stood frozen on their designated spots, and only Gabrielle moved. She broke away from the circle, moving towards Buffy. In her right hand was an empty glass cylinder, and in her other hand, she held a dagger.
The Priestess came to a halt in front of Buffy, her colorless lips forming an ardent smile. "I have been told that the blood of a Slayer possesses an ancient magic. A magic so powerful, it could heal thousands. And kill millions." Gabrielle laughed, mirthlessly, and Buffy squirmed, trying to break free of the chains that held both her hands and feet to the wall. She was barely able to move. The cuffs were solid-steel. Too sturdy even for a Slayer to break.
Knowing that she had no way of escaping, Buffy settled for shooting the Priestess a poisonous glare. She ignored it, raising the blade with a ceremonious air, and cutting her risk in a swift downward motion. Buffy hardly felt the pain, her mind deeply centered on the question on what they were going to do with it. Gabrielle captured the falling droplets of blood into the glass cylinder. She quickly did the same with Faith and Max. Although, unlike Buffy, both did not surrender quietly.
"It's your blood that's going to be spilled later on tonight, you freaking bald, unfashionable, bitch." Faith spat struggling against her chains. Buffy would've found this insult amusing if the circumstances weren't so severe. Faith's blood intermingled with her own, the cylinder only leaving enough space for Max's blood.
Max took a slightly softer route, saying her piece in only five words. "He's going to kill you." By that, Buffy knew she meant Alec. And by that, Buffy knew there was past regarding these Familiars and the transgenics.
Gabrielle smiled. "The rest of the world will be dead by then."
Buffy froze.
And Gabrielle took the last needed droplets of blood and started the main part of the ritual. Buffy then knew that they were going to summon the First Evil. And Buffy then knew that the world may not survive this time.
Spike followed the male transgenic through the dark, dilapidated corridors of Sunnydale High, moving through the broken-down pieces of concrete, and dilapidated lockers that were strewn across the dust-covered floor. Behind him, he could sense the others following closely – and the fear that radiated from the young girls.
But that was the last thing on his mind. Only one person remained inside his thoughts. A certain blonde-haired Slayer that had captured his non- existent heart. The Slayer whom he had sacrificed so much for. The Slayer who had brought him to the difficult decision of getting his soul back. Now he could feel. And there was no doubt on how he felt for Buffy. No doubt about it at all.
"They're in the basement?" Alec asked in slight surprise as they continued down the hallway, towards the entrance that led to the basement.
"How did you know?" Wood asked from beside Spike, his dark skin appearing almost black in the dimness of the corridor.
"I could hear chanting," Alec said.
Giles gasped from somewhere behind them. "The ceremony must have begun!"
The minute they heard this single phrase, the whole group had hurried on in a much faster pace than before. As the saying goes, time is gold, or rather, in appropriateness to the situation: time is blood.
He recalled what he said earlier outside of the school. 'We're walking into our funeral.' The chants grew louder, and Spike made a final decision in his head. He was going to do all that it took to get Buffy and the others out of there alive. Even if that meant dying his second death.
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