Debbie and Spike dream about Devlin's killing of a Slayer, horrifying both of them, and alienating Deb from her boyfriend.
Deb and Dev's penthouse suite is looking a little ramshackle: clothes in the jacuzzi, underwear on a busted lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, an overturned couch, an overturned dinner table, and a torn-up bed, upon which the two of them lie contentedly asleep. Dev is on his back. Deb rests her head on his chest, and he has his left hand on her hair. His right arm and her left arm are outstretched, and they hold hands. The door is triple-locked. The shades are drawn, and to get on their floor requires a room key. They are safe from their many enemies. But not from their past. More specifically, from Devlin's past. He has what is more a recollection than a dream. It is August 18, 2003. He is back in Johannesburg. It is the fourth night since Buffy left. In the previous three, Hilda Grubers Botha and her Watcher Nigel Henry (Hal) Barrington exacted a terrible toll on the city's vampire population, destroying their alliance with the human criminal gangs, who were afraid of meeting the same fate, and forcing most of the surviving vampires to flee. The local community was in crisis, the Slayer was viewed as invincible, and no one was brave or foolhardy enough to try to stop her. In other words, it was the perfect moment for Devlin to act.
Wearing khaki cargo pants, a black tank top, an unbuttoned blue and white-striped short-sleeve seersucker shirt and a gold chain round his neck, Devlin walks into a busy coffee shop, his hands in his pockets, his still-wet black hair slicked back and gelled. As always, he's trying to look cool, but can't quite pull it off. He never developed Spike's talent for that. But he has developed other talents. Dev patiently waits in line, looking at the patrons and figuring out which ones to kill. When he gets to the front, a young woman asks how she can help him. He grabs her head and slams it four times into the counter, killer her. Gasps and screams can be heard. Dev shows no emotion as he changes his face and bares his fangs. He picks up the register and smashes it down onto the head of a man to his left, who was stirring his coffee. He then leaps over the counter and goes after the terrified crew, scalding a man's face with hot coffee before snapping his neck. A female employee escapes as he corners a male employee and backs him against the wall. He holds up his hands. "Arms out straight!" Dev demonstrates. The man complies. He punches the man very hard in the sternum, stopping his heart. Dev leaps out from behind the counter and runs out onto the sidewalk after the fleeing patrons. He snaps a teenage boy's neck. He chokes an old woman. Then he blocks the door to prevent the final five people from escaping, slowly walking back inside.
"You run, you die," he says. "You stay, you may live." Dev grabs a young woman, spins her round, picks up a metal butter knife with his right hand, and shoves it into her throat. The other four watch her bleed out, and one of them throws a small table through a side window and tries to escape. Dev grabs him from behind. On the way there, he throws a woman to the ground, punches a man, and kicks a fourteen year-old boy. "What did I tell you?," he says to the bulky man who tried to escape. He tries to fight, but Dev just tosses him face-down on the broken glass. He grabs a shard, shoves it through the man's right eye, listens to him scream, then hurls him face-first through the front plate glass window, eliciting more screams from terrified passers-by. He picks up the frightened boy. "You can go," he says, pushing the terrified lad towards the door. This left a light-skinned black woman and a white man. "Eenie-meenie-miney-mo. Eh. Screw randomness. I'll go with reverse discrimination." He starts mercilessly pummelling the white man. "You may leave now," he calmy tells the horrified black women. Devlin proceeds to strike the unfortunate fellow about the torso and head. He hears the sirens nearing, and knows the Slayer can't be far behind. Calculating how much time he has, Devlin pounds the chest with furious, rapid-fire punches before bring a metal table down on his head. Not precisely beating a man to death, but as close and he can achieve under the circumstances. He leaps over the counter and exits out the back door, blood splattering his shirt.
Debbie's already had a few dreams from another Slayer's point of view. So this seems like nothing special. The dreams are terrifying, since she always dies, but she chalks them up to education, a sort of virtual reality history lesson designed to keep a Slayer on her toes and prevent her from becoming complacent. She's with a man in his mid-fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a short beard. She calls him Hal, though they communicate in a language she doesn't understand. This, also, is nothing new for Deb. She weaves through the crowd and past the police to get a look at a massacre. The floor of a shop is covered in blood. Bodies lie inside and out. People are crying and wailing. It's horrible. Worse than anything Debbie's seen in real life. Hal takes Hilda's arm and leads her away from the carnage. He tells her the vampire probably escaped away from the crowd. She asks why there were no bite marks, and wonders whether it really is a vampire. He replies that the looks on the people's faces indicated the crime was committed by something they'd never seen, and never expected to see. She agrees, and follows him towards the darkened backstreets she's come to know so well during the past week. Still, it seems odd for bloodsuckers to, well, not suck blood.
Spike has Claire's back up against her bedroom wall. She stares into Spike's eyes as she pants and slowly sinks down to the floor. "Oh God. Oh my God. That was fucking amazing."
Spike's happy, but confused. "This wusn't your first time."
"No. But, yes. It's the first time I came." Spike grins and gets down on the carpet with her. Nothing burnishes a man's ego like being told you achieved what no other guy could. She closes her eyes and smiles tranquilly.
"Wut are you doing?"
"Savoring."
"Savoring's wut you do when it's all over. We've just begun."
Hilda makes a cautious right turn off an empty but well-lit street into a dark alley. Hal waits at the corner, leaning up against the side of an apartment building. Two floors up, Devlin hangs from a window ledge. He lets go of the ledge with his right hand, takes out his knife, flips out the blade, lets go of the ledge with his left hand, falls to the ground six feet from Hal, who turns towards the noise and sees Devlin. Dev stabs Hal through the neck before the Watcher can defend himself. Hilda turns round and witnesses the attack. Before she can intercede, her Watcher has fallen She cries out in grief as she runs at Dev, who turns the corner and leans against the apartment's side wall. Making a sharp right turn slows down the Slayer, and she stops before throwing a right hook. Dev grabs her arm and tosses her to the ground. Debbie can't understand what Hilda is saying, but she can feel her emotions. Right now, what she feels is all-consuming rage.
"You coward!," she yells in Afrikaans.
"Would you rather I let him see you die?," he responds her language. The voice sounds familiar to Debbie. Only when the vampire walks under the street lamp does she get a good look at him. To her horror, it's Devlin.
Clair lies on the bed. She's not conscious. "Oh no. Oh, bloody hell, no. Not this," Spike says as he kneels over her, lightly slapping her face. "Wake up, Claire. Wake up." Maybe he had been too vigorous. She wasn't a Slayer. Claire's breathing. Which is good. Finally, after more than two minutes, her eyes open, and she inhales deeply several times.
"You look scared," she notes with surprise.
"You looked unconscious."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to pass out on you. You were amazing." Claire smiles.
"Just getting the job done. Wus I too rough?"
"Oh, no. No. You were very, spectacular."
A relieved Spike lies next to her. "I wus a little nervous. That was my first time in nearly two years."
"Clearly the world's been missing out." She slides down and kisses his chest and belly. "Oh my God. You're still . . . but I though you had . . . let me take care of that."
"That's okay," Spike demurs.
"Quid pro quo. It's only fair," she replies with a smile.
"Well look what I've found," Dev announces. "A real blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nazi Afrikaner bitch." Hilda's a few inches taller than Buffy, and an inch shorter than Debbie. She wears black jeans and a green and yellow rugby jersey with the sleeves rolled up.
"You came to the wrong town. Around here, your kind doesn't get away with killing the helpless."
"I didn't come to kill them. I came to kill you. They were, what's your word for bait'?"
Hilda — and by extension Debbie — feels guilty for not saving them, as well as for letting Hal die. This was what Dev wanted: a distracted Slayer fighting on emotion. She takes two steps forward and hits him in the chest with a right kick. His back to the wall, Dev puts up his hand to protect his face as Hilda attacks, landing a half-dozen blows to his ribs and stomach before hitting his right ear with a left hook and his chin with a right uppercut. Dev knocks her back with a quick straight left kick to the chin. "I haven't drunk a drop in two days. Been saving up for you," he says as he circles rightward.
"Go to Hell!" She connects with a leaping right kick to the face, putting Devlin on his back. He stays down. She circles round him. He rotates on his back, following her so she can't come at him from the side.
"You first." He holds his arm out wide, looking up at her. "Come on, Hilda. I hear Slayers like it on top." She screams and lunges down at Dev, a stake in her right hand. He leans back and puts his feet against her waist, kicking Hilda off of him. They both stand up. Dev takes off his seersucker shirt and places it over Hal's head. She charges again, further enraged by his behavior. Devlin grabs both her arms, spins round and pushes her back against the wall. He leans his left ear against her chest. "Your heart is pounding. Sweat rolling down your neck. You really know how to put a vampire in the mood." She knees Devlin in the groin, lands two right hooks to his face and knocks him back down with a left roundhouse kick. Devlin quickly gets up this time.
It's at this moment Spike enters his offspring's dream. An intense fight to the death: this feels familiar. But the girl doesn't look so familiar. Dev blocks a left cross and a right hook, then ducks a left hook before knocking Hilda back with a right kick to the chest. "What did Buffy teach you to do against a vampire like me?" Spike knew that voice. He was Devlin. But that wasn't English he was speaking. What did Dev say about Buffy?
"Aim well," she replies, spinning the stake in her right hand. She tries a leaping right kick, but he backs up and blocks it. He then ducks a left sweep kick and grabs her foot when she tries a right hook kick. She does a back flip to free herself.
"Nothing like the courage of a neophyte." Hilda charges in and tries a right hook. Dev grabs her arm and spins Hilda around. She does a back flip to get behind him and tries a quick stake in the back. Dev spins and grabs her right wrist with his right hand when the point is three inches from his chest. "Good aim." He knocks her down with a left hook. "But you need to work on your timing." She gets up and tries a straight right kick. Dev backs away. A left roundhouse kick: he blocks it. A right roundhouse punch: he blocks it. She lands a left uppercut to his stomach and a left hook to his face. He looks hurt, but still confident. Hilda has never had a fight with one vampire that lasted this long. Combine this with the fact that her Watcher is not there to coach her through this, and it's no surprise she's feeling lost. Devlin circles left, placing himself between the Slayer and her dead Watcher. "I'm going to cut his head off. I'm going to cut it off and take it to Buffy. Unless you stop me." For once, she holds off and doesn't take the bait.
"Coward."
"I beg your pardon."
"Why won't you attack me?"
"Too predictable."
"You attack my Watcher. You attack those people. But you don't attack me. You only attack those weaker than you. That's cowardice."
"No, my dear. That's tactics." Devlin went about his business very different than his sire. Dev steps forward. Hilda steps forward. They engage. This is Devlin's first encounter with a Slayer. At this moment, he's too pumped up to be afraid. They both land blows, block blows and duck blows at a furious pace. Dev backs up and moves side-to-side, content to stay on the defensive so long as he's not seriously injured. The action is thrilling. Spike can feel Dev's euphoria. Deb can feel Hilda's desperation. She was tiring. He wasn't giving her any openings. She had to fight harder and finish this thing. When he throws a right cross, Hilda grabs Dev's arm and hurls him over her shoulder with a loud grunt. He gets to his feet and finds her already on top of him, landing two left jabs and a right roundhouse kick. He staggers but stays up. She lands a left hook, ducks a left jab, lands a right hook, grabs Dev and throws him twenty feet through the air into the brick wall of the the apartment building. Devlin finally felt some urgency as he sprang to his feet. His knees were wobbly. She kicked him in the chest, driving his back into the wall. Hilda senses victory. Debbie can feel her blood lust rise. She hates Devlin with a fiery passion. She lands a right hook kick to the left side of his head. He blocks a left hook and lands a left jab. She retaliates with a right jab-hook combination. Now they're both tired. He tries a left hook. She blocks it and kicks him hard in the groin with her left foot. As his two hands go down, she goes in for the staking. Dev pulls his left and up and catches the stake. She raises her left fist to punch the back of the stake home. He grabs her left wrist with his right hand. Their faces are less than a foot apart as they struggle, Devlin fighting for his life, Hilda for victory and vengeance.
"You have no idea how much this turns me on," he says before pushing her back. "Buffy didn't tell you about that part?," he asks with a laugh. "I say we finish the foreplay and get on with it, Hilda-honey." She lands a right hook, but he ducks a left hook and lands a left uppercut to her stomach that sends her airborne for a moment. He then blocks her right hook and lands a right cross. She answers with a left hook kick to the face. When she tries to follow this up with a right cross, he grabs her arm and spins her around before ducking under a right roundhouse kick. She lands a straight left kick to his stomach and takes the stake in her right hand. He kicks it up in the air with his left foot. Hilda executes a backwards hand spring and catches it. Meanwhile, Devlin leaps forward and knocks her down with a flying right kick. She vaults to her feet and connects with a right hook kick. Dev backs up. She approaches, but slower and more methodically than before. She tries a straight right kick, which he blocks. He blocks a left jab and lands a right hook. She answers with a right hook. He kicks her in the ribs with a right hook kick, she blocks his left jab, but he connects with a right cross. By now, they're like two punch-drunk fighters. Hilda puts the stake in her left hand and throws a right hook. Devlin grabs her fist in the palm of his left hand. When he tries a right cross of his own, Hilda sees an opening and goes for the stake. But Dev pivots counter-clockwise on his right foot away from the stake, watching it go by his chest. He then grabs Hilda's left arm and pushes her face-first into a wall, biting down in the left side of her neck.
Hilda screams. Debbie can feel her pain. After six seconds, she kicks and elbows Devlin away. He flashes a wicked smile on his face, blood trickling down his lips. Hilda turns round and tries to stay on her feet. Not surprisingly, she feels very lightheaded. For the first time since her first fight a week ago, Hilda fears for her life. "If it's any consolation, you are delicious," he says with a chuckle. Hilda staggers. Devlin growls. She's too weak to run. Her only hope lies in killing him. Dev cautiously moves within three feet of the desperate Slayer. Time's definitely on his side. No need to rush things. Spike can taste the hot Slayer's blood and feel the lust for the kill. Dev lands a right cross. A few seconds later, he connects with a left jab, all the while watching the stake in her right hand. Hilda tries a right hook kick. Devlin bags away. Hilda wobbles on the follow-through. Dev seizes his chance, leaping on top of her, pulling the stake away and pinning her down. He lies there for a few seconds, feeling her warmth as she struggles with her legs to kick or push him away. Dev lands three left hooks to her face and tears open her shirt. He fondles her chest as he drinks some more from her open neck wound, further weakening her. To Debbie, Devlin's hands feel like the most disgusting things in the world. But it's about to get much worse.
Dev pulls down her pants, unzips his, and rapes her. Hilda — and Debbie — starts to cry. Spike feels as if he is watching himself commit the act. He both enjoys it immensely and abhors himself for feeling that way. When he's finished, Dev stands up, and Spike wakes up. "Oh God, no." He looks to his right, sees Claire's creamy neck, her bright red hair, and steps out of bed, not quite trusting himself at this moment.
Devlin looks down at Hilda — helpless from loss of blood, alone, her pants round her ankles, crying weakly for someone to help her. Debbie sees how much Devlin enjoys this. Worse yet, he returns to his human face, still smiling, and slowly kneels over her, leaning down to within a few inches of her face. "You were wonderful tonight," he says, kissing her on the lips, going bumpy, and biting the right side of her neck, draining her until she's dead, and then some. When Hilda dies, Debbie leaves her body, and watches from above as Devlin continues to drink. She shoots of out bed in a cold sweat and gasps. She looks down at Devlin in bed with her, and feels sick to her stomach. Dev's eyes open. Deb punches him in the nose and stands up, quickly getting her clothes on.
"What was that for?," he asks, sitting up. She finds her stake. "Whoa!"
"I can't stay here. Not with you."