Summary: Ha! Take that, tradition!

Crossover: Bastard!!, Slayers

Disclaimer: I don't own Bastard!!, Slayers, or Buffy the Vampire Shagger. Although, if the respective owners want to swap for a couple of CDs that's fine.

Feedback: Yeah, baby!

* * *

"Spike," Giles repeated in the Library. "That's what the other vampire called him? That's a little unorthodox, isn't it?"

"Maybe he's the new big bad," Buffy theorised. "The bad vamp was calling out for help from this loser."

"Perhaps he went by another name in... times past," Giles continued.

"Well, whoever he is, we'll need all the help we can get come this Saturday," Miss Calendar pointed out.

The double doors opened, revealing the new teacher Mr Cash, with his eerily empty eye sockets. A dirty little smirk creased his lips, not extending to the scar tissue around his empty sockets.

"Has Principal Snyder informed you that I've been assigned to oversee the two problem students?," Cash asked.

"Nope," Buffy said cheerily. "And I don't like you, so make like a tree and leave."

Cash continued walking to the group. Despite his blindness, he didn't hit any of the furniture in the library and stopped inches in front of the large table. "I hold the keys to your future in my hand. I'd advise some intelligence and thought, a bit of Watching."

The capital letters were almost audible, and hung in the air.

"The sooner you leave, the sooner we can get back to the planning," Xander said from his chair, where he had his feet on the table.

"I'll be around on Saturday evening then," Mr Cash said, tipping a non-existant hat to them.

As soon as the teacher left through the double doors, Buffy moved the index card cabinet in front of them.

"So, this night of St. Vigeous deal," Xander said, dragging the train of conversation back on track. "If they're gonna attack in force, aren't we thinkin' perhaps--"

"No," Giles interrupted. "There will be no fireballs."

"I wasn't gonna say torch them," Xander said unconvincingly. "Honest. Man, Giles, considering how quick you jumped on me..."

"We can't run, that would be wrong," Willow frowned. "Giles, are you sure that we can't kill them?"

"Murder them to your heart's content," Giles said expansively, "as long as school property is not damaged. Well, he can't be any worse than any other creature you've faced."

Xander coughed a cough which sounded suspiciously like 'Master' and 'Dragon Slave'.

A familiar Irish tinged voice spoke up from the shadows. "He's worse. Once he starts something he doesn't stop until everything in his path is dead."

"Hmm. So, he's thorough, goal-oriented," Xander said, trying to put a positive spin on things.

"We were at the Bronze before," Buffy accused, immediately homing in on the potential love interest. "Thought you said you might show."

"You said you weren't sure if you were going," Angel defended himself.

"I was being cool," Buffy retorted. "C'mon, you've been dating for, what, like, two hundred years? You don't know what a girl means when she says maybe she'll show?"

"Forgive her, she's blonde," Faith said, attracting a glare of death from Buffy. Xander laughed quietly.

"Wow, two centuries of dating," Willow realised. Her inner mathematician began spinning numbers. "If you only had two a year, that's still, like, four hundred... dates with four hundred different..."

Faith looked at the old vampire. "So /that's/ why B's going after you."

"Uh, we do have slightly more urgent matters to discuss," Giles said stuffily.

"Yeah, like keeping my mom away from Principal Snyder tomorrow night?," Buffy said, priorities set.

"And not dying Saturday," Miss Calendar pointed out.

"And saving the world," Xander added.

"Okay, okay, I got it," Buffy snapped. "Yeesh."

"Angel, do you know if this Spike fellow goes under any other name?," Giles asked, wanting research fodder.

There was a resounding lack of response, as the vampire had disappeared seconds ago.

"Okay, that's it. I'm puttin' a collar with a little bell on that guy," Xander complained.

* * *

The next day found Faith getting thoroughly disgusted with Xander and Cordelia.

"Wicked slow, guys," she taunted, watching the two whittle stakes.

"I don't see you doing any stake making, trailer trash," Cordelia accused.

"Work smart, not hard," Faith quoted. "And this chick is wicked smart. Boytoy, grab that pile of lumber and lets go to the wood shop."

"Wood shop?," Xander asked dumbly.

"I've got two words for you," Faith said. "Bench. Saw."

"Oh yeah," Cordelia blinked.

"Heck, here's another," Faith said, always magniminous. "Lathe."

Xander picked up the pile of unwhittled stakes and started to join Faith as she left the Library.

"Uh, where might you be going?," Giles asked imperiously.

"Woodshop, and the twenty first century," Xander said simply.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later, the two returned with a pile of stakes. They were all smoothed with sandpaper, and far more consistent in quality than the whittled stakes.

"Quite impressive," Giles said, cleaning his glasses. "I see we shall have to adjust our normal proceedures in future. Uh, Jenny and I have found some references to our friend."

"Who, B?," Faith asked.

"Our new friend Spike," Giles explained. "He's known as 'William the Bloody'. Earned his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. Very pleasant. Well, here's some good news: he's barely two hundred. He's not even as old as Angel is. I'm afraid I also have some bad news."

"That's 'Oh dear, he dies if someone sneezes on him' bad news, right?," Xander asked.

He could hope.

"I think Willow's suggestion of running away this Saturday might've been a good one," Giles equivocated, before capitulating. "Spike has fought two Slayers in the last century, and... he's killed them both."