Broken Origin II: Chapter Five
Flashback
Daughnsville, Ohio, Spring, 1995
It was a small town, a very small town, with a population bordering two hundred - simple, law-abiding souls made their homes here, and had for well over a hundred years…
But it was a strange town to begin with, even before it became obvious that the tiny village held something dark and sinister at its heart. There were an unusual number of crimes committed, the truths of which never made it out into the light of day, and the people that were purportedly 'such friendly folk' were actually tainted by the evil surrounding them. From the youngest to the oldest, they often turned on each other, singling out entire families to mock their every misfortune, and point fingers at whenever things went wrong…which seemed to happen a lot.
It wasn't something the town elders would ever admit to, though.
It was here that Ruby Lauren Putnam grew up, in a family of eight, never suspecting that something was truly wrong with her hometown until she was old enough to realize that her night terrors weren't normal, that constantly being rebuffed by the other children, and gossiped about by the adults, weren't normal happenings in one's existence.
A pale, freckle-faced redhead, Ruby had always assumed that the town's dislike toward her and her family had stemmed from their being poor – and how could they deny it? It was a many an evening they could be seen in the rural areas outside town, near creeks and railroad tracks, scavenging aluminum cans, and bits out of dumped refrigerators and freezers to take into the nearest city and trade for money to buy dinner, and gas so her dad could look for work.
Ruby had always been made to feel like an outsider, and even at the high school in another town nine miles away, it was obvious she would never be allowed to fit in. It came as little surprise, when, on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, a strange man confronted her on the deserted, silent baseball field eight houses down from her own that she often used as a 'back way' home, and told her of her destiny…told her she was the Slayer.
It was then that Ruby found out just why everyone in the little town was so bitter and hostile towards their own. It seemed that Daughnsville was sort-of cursed, seeing as it sat directly over an 'off-shoot' of a Hellmouth – a real, live Hellmouth that existed in – of all places – Cleveland.
Hiding her true identity, and working under cover of night with her Watcher, Newton, Ruby was shocked to find whole communities of demons living right under their noses. Over the course of eight months, she'd slain demons, and vampires, including one who turned out to be the sour old biddy that had yelled at Ruby from behind her heavy curtains to stay out of her yard, and had been doing so since before Ruby could remember. She'd always known there was something overly creepy about the old hag. She'd actually become friendly with a number of the demons, the ones not given to flesh-eating, murder, and human sacrifice, anyway.
While she was very successful at being the Slayer, Ruby's schoolwork suffered for it. She'd never been the most intellectual type, having driven her fourth grade Math teacher to near physical abuse because she just couldn't be taught multiplication and division easily enough. At Newton's insistence, her bewildered, over-stressed parents had allowed him to take her out of school, and teach her daily at the home he'd procured near the town's one and only Marathon gas station. The old house had long sat vacant before the near elderly Watcher had bought it, making it fodder for the children's imagination – and the teenager's vandalism. Everyone thought of the olive green, vine-covered clapboard house as being haunted, and not many ever went near it, so it fit their purposes wonderfully…
In early April of 1996, a pair of vampires had shown up in Daughnsville, and Ruby knew just by sight that they were not the usual 'good-ol-boy', 'farmer-vamp' types that ran through these parts. For one thing, she could feel that they were old – decades, if not centuries, old – and most of the vamps she'd spotted around had been relatively young, which in turn had made them a lot easier to kill. For another thing, no one in Daughnsville – or even Lima, a large city about twelve miles away – wore as much leather as these two did.
Knowing she was up against something she wasn't sure even she could handle, Ruby had gone straight to her Watcher as soon as she'd caught the pair coming in from the direction of the seldom-used train tracks that ran the length of the tiny town.
The look on Newton's wrinkled face as she'd described the two vampires had sent him scrambling for the old-fashioned telephone hanging on the cracked plaster wall of his urine-yellow kitchen. His reaction had scared her, because she'd never seen the old Watcher move any faster than he absolutely had to…
Within three nights, the town's already small population was decimated - but still her Watcher waited, refusing to allow Ruby to take action, making her wait to confront the demons.
Heart-sick and frustrated, Ruby talked her parents and her uncle and his family, along with any other soul who would listen – which wasn't many – into leaving town. "Just for a few days," she'd begged, having to break her vow of silence and admit and explain her calling to get them to take the children to safety. Her parents had protested, but left in the end, in their ancient, beat-up, faded red Hornet, taking all her scared witless younger siblings with them.
The two vampires had taken up temporary residence in the biggest, nicest house in town – a renovated, three-story white Victorian that was located right across from Ruby's uncle's – now thankfully empty – house.
On the morning after the fourth night, Ruby stood in the center of the elementary school's play ground and cried. Several of the younger children who her kid brothers and sisters had 'tried' to play with, and whose parents had refused to listen to her, had been killed, drained and posed into macabre, 'playful' positions on the merry-go-round, swings, monkey-bars, and slide.
Ruby had decided then and there that enough was enough…
…and that was exactly how she'd ended up dead.
Ruby stood, straddle-legged before the vampire called Angelus, pin-pricks of fear rushing up and down her spine as she sensed the other female vampiress, Drusilla, not far away.
She decided she didn't want to know what the insane bitch of the Underworld was up to. Now, staring down the dark-haired, dark-eyed, angelic-looking demon was all she was worried about. According to Newton, before he'd given her up for dead, and high-tailed it out of town – or tried to, anyway – Angelus was well over two centuries old, and had a long history of torturing his victims before offering them incredibly bloody and painful deaths.
Standing in the narrow street between her uncle's home and the town's hundred year old Methodist church, with it's hundred foot belfry and rickety, sharp spire, Ruby watched as the moon slowly reached it's zenith in the sky over Angelus's wickedly handsome, smirking countenance.
The day had begun with Ruby coming out of her Watcher's home and discovering the slain children in the playground just down the block. A sense of rage had consumed her after her initial shock, and she'd gone a little crazy. Despite Newton's protests that she wait for the special back-up team the council was sending from London, she'd gone straight for the ancient Victorian, and found the vampires had all but sealed themselves in.
She'd taken direct advantage of that fact with a vengeful kind of glee.
Ruby had run down to the end of the little town, and 'appropriated' several gallons of gasoline from the now empty station. She'd then liberally laced the ground floor and wraparound porches with their gingerbread woodworking with the volatile stuff, stood back, wiped the sweat from her forehead, smiled…and flicked a lit match.
The Victorian had gone up like dry tinder wood, and Ruby had stood in the street with her Watcher and waited expectantly for the angry howls and screams from the beasts inside – but none had sounded, and she'd known that she'd been tricked. The vampires had taken refuge someplace else before dawn.
Despite the fact that the town was very small, and the vampires had to have secreted themselves away within one of the homes, or even the empty school, short of setting fire to every standing building in town, some of which were still stubbornly occupied, Ruby could do nothing. She knew that if she were stupid enough to intrude on their 'resting' place, she'd immediately be slaughtered. Contrary to common belief, she'd learned, vampires didn't necessarily need to sleep during the day.
Convinced that her best chance would be to take them out in the open, Ruby had waited for the sun to set, her youthful sense of hope and the need live refusing to give into the certainty that her hours left on this earth were numbered…
Ruby had to fight the urge to jump when a sudden, deafening, monotonous ringing began in the belfry above high above their heads. A loud, hysterical sounding woman's laugh came down through the cacophony, and she watched warily as Angelus smiled and shook his head, pressing his fingertips together at his lean waist as he began talking very slow, steady steps toward her down the street.
"You'll have to excuse Dru," the vampire said in an almost friendly way as he approached, the solid sounds the heels of his ungodly expensive Gucci boots made as they struck the dry pavement echoing hollowly against the empty buildings in between the peals of sound from the bell. "She likes the sound of church bells ringing – finds it soothing, I suppose.
'Soothing?' the Slayer thought in disbelief, listening to the high-pitched laughter coming from the old church. God above, but the woman was acting like a raving loon, and her companion thought she was being soothed?
Dooong…dooong…dooong…It sounded like a lonely death knell to Ruby.
"So…you're the Slayer." The vampire paused a good ten feet from her, and looked her up and down with his hooded devil's eyes, his teeth flashing white in his pale face. "Never expected to come across one of you in hick town like this," he drawled, sending a disparaging glance around before his gaze came back unexpectedly to settle right on her.
"But, it's a nice surprise, I have to admit. Dru and me, we've been on the move for a while now. There hasn't been much opportunity to…put down roots, so to speak. When she had one of her visions, and insisted on coming here, I thought she was -" the vampire gave a charming laugh " – well, I thought she was acting crazy." He took another step forward, dropping his hands as his movements became much more predatory. "But now I can why she was drawn here. This place is nearly pure evil…and you being here, trying to protect it…? That's just the cherry on top, isn't it?"
Ruby swallowed, but stood her ground, the broadsword and crossbow in her hands at the ready.
"It's just too bad that this place is so small. Another few nights, and this place'll be…well, dead," Angelus chuckled, and his brows lifted when Ruby suddenly aimed the crossbow at him, and fired. He caught the wooden bolt in his hand, just before it reached his heart, and he broke it with that same hand, growling deep in his chest before flinging the two pieces to the ground.
Ruby looked up, barely keeping from showing a reaction when she saw that the vampire's face had morphed into it's true visage.
"So, you're going to put up a fight, girl?" the vampire snarled, hungrily baring its jagged fangs. "To tell the truth, I was so hoping you would…I've never had a Slayer."
Ruby calmly reloaded the crossbow, keeping her eyes locked with the hellfire glow of the vampires'. She was bringing it up to take aim again when the vampire attacked. She felt her finger jerk hard on the trigger – in slow motion, she watched the vampire flying at her, saw the bolt leave the bow, followed it as if she could somehow steer it's path, felt her heart stop for a beat when the point missed it's target as the vampire turned in mid-air to avoid it…
Time seemed to speed up after that. The vampire hit her so hard she crashed to the ground, dropping the bow, and she felt her grip loosen on her sword. There was a metallic grinding as the heavy weapon slid from her gloved grasp across the cold, smooth gray pavement of the road. For some reason, Ruby flashed back to when she four, and her much older sister, Lacey, had warned her never to run across the road because she could fall and get hit by a car before she could get back up…maybe it was the road rash that brought that childhood incident to mind. As she hit the road, she skidded, and the friction tore open the frayed elbows of her blue denim jacket, and shredded the skin there, and on her forearms. The sting was nothing short of agonizing, and brought tears to her blue-gray eyes, but she couldn't concentrate on the pain because the vampire was on top of her, holding her down with one hand slowly crushing her throat, the other tangling almost obscenely in her long red hair.
Ruby drew in a hoarse, gasping breath when the vampire finally let go of her throat, and he dragged her up onto her knees before him, still holding her by her hair. She fisted her hands and swung at him, but he batted them away with little effort.
"Hey, Slayer," he said, shaking her to get her attention. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, her anger and hate sharp enough to gut him.
Angelus grinned, and bent down into her face. "I just wanted you to know, you'll be my first," he said in a whisper, "so just be gentle with me, darlin', and I promise I'll try to make it good for you, too." He pulled her up and forced a heated kiss on her lips before he flung her away.
Ruby forced herself up as soon as she hit the ground. She knew she had to move if she wanted to live. She had to find the sword, where was the fucking sword –
A sudden, fiery, piercing pain jabbed through her abdomen, and Ruby looked down at herself, and saw the blade of her own blooded sword protruding sickly from the front of her faded black t-shirt.
"Oh, sorry…were you looking for this?" she heard the vampire ask in a helpful voice.
With a fierce yank, the sword was slowly dragged from her body, and she couldn't hold back a short scream as she felt the blade saw against her rib and her backbone as it exited. She hit the ground, shaking in paroxysms of pain as she struggled to move and found that she couldn't.
The vampire Angelus stood over her as she squinted upwards at the starry sky through a haze of red, and she again remembered a happier time when she was very small, and it was Halloween, and her mom was walking her house to house in her stroller while she stared in awe at the stars in the black sky overhead.
Was this really it? The end? The far from mediocre end to her mediocre life? So soon? Was it fitting? Did she deserve it for being such a mediocre Slayer…?
A blur of black blotted out her vision, and Ruby felt her head being pushed to one side, her hair being dragged away from her face, heard rather than felt the fangs as they savagely pierced the tenderness of her throat…
She felt her heart raging against the grip of death when the vampire finally lifted it's head, but it had very little blood left with which to fight. She felt lightheaded, nauseous, as she blankly stared at the vampire as it rose to it's feet once again. She watched with eyes that she had to fight to keep open as the deranged vampiress Drusilla appeared in the open door of the old church, and acted on pure instinct as Angelus turned his back to approach his companion.
Moving seemed the hardest thing she'd ever tried to do. It felt as if it took hours to reach the discarded crossbow, and even longer to drag it towards her across the road with her bloodied fingertips. She'd never know how she managed to find a bolt and get the thing loaded, but she did. She rolled onto her stomach, ignoring the gutted feeling taking her over, and pushed up onto her raw elbows, taking aim at the vampire standing with it's back to her. Her sight wavered, until it looked like she was seeing everything through a heat wave, and she struggled to keep her hands in position.
Angelus suddenly snarled, whirling, the expression on his face first one of suspicion, and then surprise as he saw the crossbow leveled on him, Ruby's pale, but smirking face just above it. Her finger twitched on the trigger, and there was a sharp twang as the bolt released. She collapsed, semi-conscious, to the pavement, but not before seeing – to her extreme dismay – the vampire duck, and the bolt strike the dark vampiress in the heart.
It wasn't that she was unhappy to see the female crumble to dust. It was just that she knew that since she'd been aiming for Angelus's heart, and had hit the much shorter Drusilla's instead when he'd moved, her stupid aim had been off in the first place…
She also knew that, where she may have had half-a-chance at living through this night with just Drusilla to deal with, Angelus wasn't going to make her death a pleasant one.
Unfortunately for her, while her aim may have been off, her instincts were not.
Despite her best attempts to go out with some kind of honor, Ruby Lauren Putnam died screaming.
End Flashback
Present - Sunnydale, Ca. July, 1996
Almost two weeks after his fight with the Slayer, Spike found himself standing out in front of the high school again, wondering if he might catch a glimpse of her, since this was the last place he'd seen her. He'd seen hide nor hair of her since that night, and it made him wonder if she was even still alive.
Despite his promise to himself that he'd drink her dry as a salt flat the moment he saw her again, he kept wondering where she was, what was wrong with her, and if he'd been the cause of it.
Spike cursed aloud, and kicked at a rock on the sidewalk before running his fingers through his hair and pressing the heel of his hands into his temples. Of course he'd been the cause of it! Jesus, the Slayer was driving him mad, madder than Dru had ever driven him, and that was saying something. He had to find her, kill her, and get her out of his fucking mind for good –
A muffled male scream suddenly echoed across the campus, and Spike's head shot up, turning in the direction of the sound. Curious, and grateful for any distraction at the moment, he set off across the lawns, his ears perked for any more sounds.
Spike saw an open window into one of the classrooms, and just as he was about to approach it, he saw a slight female shape crawl out of it. For a second he almost smiled, thinking he had a tasty bit of helpless prey on his very willing hands, but the closer he got to the female, the more he noticed her lack of certain prey-worthy things, like body heat…and a heartbeat.
The minute the girl touched ground and turned to face him, he groaned.
Of all the bloody things he could have run into tonight…
Spike shook his head as the female gasped at the sight of him, and then sneered, putting her hands on her shapely hips as she hooked him with a derisive gaze.
"Well, now, isn't this just the dog's balls? Long time, no see, Granny," Spike jabbed on a drawn-out sigh.
"How many times do I have to remind you, William, it's 'Darla'. That twit Drusilla got away with calling me grandmother only when Angelus was around, and even then you know how much I hated it, so don't call me that again unless you want to keep your dick."
Spike whistled and took a step back, tucking a thumb in his belt and letting the fingers of his hand fall protectively over the worn fly of his jeans. "Easy goes it, pet – don't get your frillies in a twist – course, we both know that would never happen 'cause you don't wear frillies – " Spike caught his tongue between his teeth and took a hasty step back, lifting his eyebrows suggestively as his great-grandsire took a swing at him. He chuckled long and low as she growled at him.
"What are you doing here?" Darla asked angrily, swinging her short blond hair out of her heart-shaped face.
Spike shrugged. "Out for a bite." He wondered briefly why she wasn't asking him about Dru.
"I mean, what are you doing here, in Sunnydale?" Darla looked over his shoulder, and frowned.
Spike smiled. "M'on vacation – what do you think?"
"I think you're here to cause trouble…as usual," a familiar, hated voice drawled.
Spike spun around, destroying his picture of deceptive laziness. A snarl crept across his lips as he spotted his most hated enemy standing a few yards away from him.
"Angel."
"Well, if it isn't Captain Forehead."
The dark vampire stepped forward, a slight smirk of recognition on his face. "Spike," he nodded.
"Angel?" Darla looked in between the two of them. "Did you know Spike was here?"
"Not until just now," Angel said, sidling past the blonde vamp to stand beside her. He casually lifted a hand to run his be-ringed fingers through her hair, and Darla smacked his hand away. He growled at her but she didn't look concerned, just annoyed.
"Don't touch my hair right now – I finally got it just the way I wanted it," she complained, tucking a gold strand behind her ear.
Spike laughed. "Hoo, haven't seen her in a century and she's still got your raisins in quite the choke hold, don't she?" he crowed at Angelus.
"By the way," Spike paused, taking a pointed look around, "where the hell's Dru?"
Angel feigned a sad look, and reached over to sling an arm around Spike's shoulder. Well, you see, Wills…I don't know just how to tell you this, but…
Spike shrugged him off, his fury boiling to the surface. "What the bloody hell did you do to her?" he snarled, his voice rough and on edge.
"Why she's gone, William," Angel told him with mock gentleness.
"What do mean, 'gone'?" Spike asked, on the verge of turning violent.
"He means she's dust, you waste of space," Darla snapped dismissively. "If you ask me, good riddance."
Spike's temper snapped, and he growled, flinging himself at the female with his hands out, curling them around her throat as he slammed her up against the building.
"I'll tear your fucking head off if you say one more bad word about her," Spike threatened, his fangs snapping in her face. "You weren't fit to lick my girl's boot's clean."
"The Master will have your head off your shoulders if you kill me," Darla raged, struggling helplessly. Normally, since she was far older, and more powerful, she might have been able to push him off her – but Spike's rage was a remarkable sight this night, and she couldn't force him away.
"Oh, will he, now?" Spike asked, unconcerned, his fangs still bared. He reached over almost casually to snap a branch of one of the trees nearby, and thrust the sharp green wood hard against her chest, tearing the delicate fabric of her sweater, and drawing blood.
"Why don't we just see what the wrinkly old bastard'll do if I off you?"
Spike drew the makeshift stake back and shoved it into Darla's chest, splintering the end on her breastbone. The vampiress gave an enraged shriek of pain, and Spike's snarl widened.
"Oops, I'm sorry," he apologized congenially as he yanked the stake back out. "Missed, didn't I? Shall we try again?"
"Who cares what the wrinkly old bastard will do," Angel suddenly drawled in Spike's ear. "If I were you, William, I'd be worrying what I'm about to do if you don't let her go."
Spike bit his tongue, savoring the bitter taste of his blood before he roared and pushed back off Darla, his grief bringing him to his knees in the grass. He sat there, head cradled in his hands for a long time, before he could look up. He sniffed, his blue eyes reddened and wet as he stared at his rival.
"What happened?" he asked in a raw voice. "Tell me what…what happened to her."
For a moment, Angel's face lost its smirk, and he actually looked saddened by the loss of his childe.
"It was in Ohio, a few months past. Dru insisted on stopping in this small town that absolutely reeked of a Hellmouth. We came across a Slayer there."
Spike blinked, his hands curling into fists on his thighs. "A…Slayer?" He sniffed again, and swiped the back of his hand over his face. "A Slayer killed her?"
"Yeah. Crossbow bolt. It was quick."
Suddenly the idea of just killing Buffy Summers when he came across her again just didn't seem like enough.
Spike felt his rage building as he sat there, staring, barely listening as Angel rambled on.
"Almost didn't make it out of the cursed place myself. The fucking townspeople - I had no idea there were that many of the cowards left. I killed the Slayer, and it was like I'd unleashed the hounds of hell. Stinking humans were everywhere." He shook his head. "It was over before I could do anything. I barely got out of there with my ass intact as it was."
Spike slowly rose to his feet, his acute sense of loss making him tremble. "You left her to die."
Angel shook his head again. "William – "
"You left her to die!" Spike tackled him around the waist, sending them both crashing to the ground. They tussled a bit, and then Angelus shoved him off with a blow to his jaw that left a bloody streak from one of his rings.
Spike stood up, tears still in his eyes. "I knew you wouldn't take care of her! I knew – " he stopped, and started pacing, back and forth, feeling like he was losing it. He stopped and spun on Angel, pointing at him accusingly. "I knew I should have fought for her! She didn't know what the bloody hell she was doing when she left with you! I'd have died before I let anything happen to her, you sodding sonofabitch, and she knew it! I took care of her, bloody bled for her for over a century, and you came back, playin' all your dirty lil' games, and stole her away from me! You went and got her killed!"
Angel lunged up from the ground, in full demon face, and stood, shoulders hunched as if ready to attack. "I suggest that you calm yourself, Will, before I feel obliged to do it for you."
"Don't feel so bad, boy…I got a bit of your own back for you. I crucified her."
Red-eyed, Spike stared at him.
"Used one of your old tricks with the railroad spikes - nailed the bitch, literally." Angel smiled diabolically. "It was pretty satisfying, although she still died far too quickly for it to be too much fun."
Grinding the bones in his jaw together in an effort to stave off the sobs he felt building in his chest, Spike blinked fiercely, glared at the vampires who'd made the first half of his un-life worse then Hell, and turned around and walked away. He didn't bother saying anything else before he left – Angel knew this wasn't the last he'd be seein' of him…
Not by a fucking bloody long shot.
Spike was mightily tempted to go back home and get piss drunk, but he needed to keep his wits about him with Angel in town.
In hopes of distracting himself, he made a violent mess of his kill that night, the likes of which he hadn't done in decades, but the slick, sticky blood, hot on his skin and in his throat, did nothing to ease the painful roil of emotions in his chest. He didn't even bother to properly dispose of the corpse after he fed, which was just asking for trouble, but he just didn't fucking care anymore.
It was early still, and he entertained the thought of just going back to the crypt, but he'd cooled down a bit, and his thought process was more clear now. He decided it'd probably be a good idea to spy on Angel and see what the old prick was up to.
As he walked back to the school to pick up Darla and Angel's scents, he caught himself wondering again if Angel really had done anything to try and save Dru.
Not likely, he thought bitterly.
Spike caught Angel's scent and followed their trail, his thoughts chaotic and disjointed.
It was almost ironic. The death of a Slayer had first lured Dru into his arms, made her his lover…and the death of a Slayer had taken her permanently from him.
Darla was four centuries old, a vampire…but still very much a woman. She was still shrieking mad when she walked into the Master's lair well before dawn, clutching her wounded chest and a fistful of gore-ridden and torn cashmere sweater.
"Who has mistreated my favored daughter so?"
Darla couldn't help it – she jumped. Even after centuries of being around her sire, the sound of his deceptively lyrical voice still made her skin crawl.
"It was Spike, Master," she growled furiously, stamping across the packed dirt and stone floor of the desecrated and sunken church they resided in. Not that they had much of a choice, or rather, the Master didn't. He'd been inside the old church when an earthquake had struck many decades before, and a holy, magical barrier of sorts had trapped him inside ever since.
"Spike?" the Master asked, his tone only mildly curious.
"William, Master. You've met him only once before, in Spain. He's of Drusilla's get," Darla spat in disgust.
"Ah, William. I remember now. Yes, he was even more disrespectful than Angel, as I recall…but the bulls…hmm. I've seen very few as bloodthirsty and vicious since." The Master sighed in blissful memory, his eyes glazing over for a moment before his attention abruptly snapped back to the present. "You say he is here?"
"Yes, Master. He tried to stake me, the ungrateful shit." Darla violently tugged off her ruined school-girl sweater, and flung it to the dirt floor, uncaring of those who saw her nakedness. "He'd have been dust many times over had I not coaxed Angelus to spare him."
She didn't add it had been just because Drusilla had been attached to him. He'd always kept the idiot girl occupied, and most importantly, away from her own Angelus.
Darla made a face as she tugged on another white, button down shirt. The ploy had worked…most of the time anyway.
"Not to worry, my dear. I think a stake will find him one day soon," the Master soothed, an unnatural light in his reddened eyes. "Perhaps this new Slayer – "
A new voice spoke from behind Darla.
"A staking is too easy for him. I vote we…construct our own…entertainment."
"Angelus?" The Master gasped, standing from his chair. "Can it be that you have finally returned to us?"
Darla smiled. "He saved me, Master."
The Master looked at Angelus. "It seems I have cause to be grateful to you, then."
Angel smirked.
"It seems as if it's been centuries since I last saw you. Tell me…where have you been?"
"In Hell," Angel responded grimly. "The Gypsies cursed me…with a soul."
"Most unfortunate…however, I once told you that your persistence and boldness would get you into deep trouble. I hope you have learned your lesson, boy," the Master told Angelus with no little smug satisfaction.
Angel said nothing, his dark eyes burning with suppressed rage.
"Well, now that you're here, you may as well make yourself useful," the Master said on a drawn out sigh.
"Yeah, useful." Angel's jaw tightened. "Darla hinted you were having some…problems with a Slayer."
"It is settled then," the Master said with approval, lowering himself back into his chair once again. "You shall rid us of the Slayer. I shall leave the method of her destruction solely up to you, Angelus. Torture is your element, after all."
Though Spike stood whole yards away from the tunnel entrance into the Master's lair, he heard everything.
So, that was what the wankers were up to.
They were gonna' kill the Slayer. Or at least, Angelus was.
"Blighter," Spike grumbled under his breath.
The bastard was horning in on his soon-to-be stolen territory – again. He was beginning to feel cursed. Who was Angelus to think that he could just waltz his poncey ass into Spike's town and steal his thunder? Just like he'd already stolen his girl, his pride, even his sodding reputation?! He was the one famous for killin' Slayers, not that buggering Angelus! And that affectation of his with the railroad spikes had all but died out long ago, but it was his fucking calling card, sod it all! He'd had to work hard for that shit! He wasn't called William the Bloody for nothing! And now he wanted his Slayer, too?! He'd invested a world of time and a wealth of patience he didn't bloody possess trainin' the bitch! Buffy was his, damn it!
The urge to barge in there and tear off Angel's head and shove it permanently up his ass was unnaturally strong. For long minutes he stood in the black, dripping sewer, clenching and unclenching his hands, practically gnashing his teeth as his demon visage sprang up. He had to control the low growl he was unconsciously emitting from the depths of his throat, lest he be heard.
Spike jerked his chin back when he caught the thick scent of fresh blood in the air, and he heard Angel's dark laughter echo at him from inside the Master's lair. To him it sounded mocking, a challenge…and he was more than willing to take it up.
Muscles still rock hard and tense from his building rage, Spike forced himself to back away, his glowing, yellow-gold eyes still trained with unrelenting ferocity on the entrance to the lair.
"Yeah, you just enjoy yourself, mate," he whispered to the air as he reluctantly withdrew.
"Enjoy yourself while you still can, 'cause I promise you…this isn't over until one of us is a pile of dust."
Continued in Chapter Six…
(A/N: Sorry about the wait, but here are a couple of chapters. I totally made up the previous Slayer pre-Buffy in this chapter, so please, please, please don't point the Mary-Sue finger at me. She's not intended to be that way. Thanks for reading and reviewing!)
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