Title: Resistance (1/7)
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairing: Ensemble, Illyria/Spike, DS/Angel, WR/OFC, CG/HK, DS/Spike
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 1052
Warnings: Angst. Melodrama. Romance. Character death.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.
SummaryLet's pretend, that, for a moment, Illyria's great army isn't dead at the end of Shells, and that she begins a great rise to power, and basically, war breaks out. There's only one group that dares intervene, known as the Resistance.

Notes: This is an ahead-of-time warning. This story only has five chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. This is supposed to tell the end of the struggle against Illyria. If not, it'd be some long drawn out story about the three hundred and fifty years I skipped. It's also quite possible that there could be a sequel. And oh, this story is Spike/Illyria, among other pairings.

Prologue

-2004-

After killing Knox, Wesley did what could only be considered the dumbest thing imaginable in the eyes of anyone else. He ran through the portal after Illyria. Only half of her army survived, but it was enough. It was enough to kill him and make Angel want to retreat.

Not that he cared, but more out of respect for Fred, he searched for Spike and found him facing off against Illyria and losing. Badly. The god king was having fun batting the bleached blond around the room as he tried continuously to shut her down. The thin smile on her face was evidence enough of her amusement.

A dozen soldiers ran his way, preoccupying him as the newly-risen god-king made her exit, with Spike in tow. He had a bad feeling the minute she disappeared out the door. He also had an inkling of where she was headed, the question of why she was taking Spike with her in the back of his mind.

Years later, he'd still feel guilty about that moment and how it brought on the centuries afterwards.

-

She slipped out of the doors into a new night, two soldiers carrying her caught prize. She'd decided since the moment he attacked her that she would keep him as a pet. For nothing else than that he amused her. He had continued to attempt an attack, even though it was apparent that he would not defeat her. It was a human flaw, weakness. And he had it. Hope. She'd find satisfaction in discovering others, for a half-breed such as him would have more than one.

Satisfied with that decision, she returned to Wolfram and Hart, finding what she needed easily. Her tomb. The two members of her army lifted the sarcophagus up just as Spike made a mad dash for the broken window. There it was again. That flaw. Hope. It flared at the most inconvenient moments. Not that Illyria minded. She'd love to break him in. Make him a good pet.

With a wave, time slowed to her delight. She walked towards his escape route and grabbed him around the waist, letting time resume. He struggled in her grip and she had to admit that it was more enjoyable that he did not desire to be in her company. It was also interesting. In this time where her name was spoken without honor, such as that man earlier that had spoken it without awe, without respect, without fear. But of grief and pain. It had turned her stomach. Maybe he was better off dead, without his pain.

Just then the other vampire, Angel, and his "army" rushed the lab again. She tilted her head and looked at Spike, ever struggling in her death grip. They were once again attempting to attack her, for the reward of retrieving the white-haired vampire that she had now claimed ownership of. She did not believe she would release him.

"Let him go." Angel said. He didn't want to attack her while Spike was still in her possession. If he got hurt, there'd be one less person they had to fight. The last thing they needed was one less person to fight against her. The look on Spike's face didn't help matters any. He struggled, giving Angel a nearly pleading look. Angel didn't think he wanted to be in her company anyway.

She gazed at Angel, her eyes cold, cold as her. She desired him as her pet. And she would have everything she desired, once again. No one would take him away. "No."

At that, the mortals in black armor rushed at her and she watched them, letting out a scream that would hurt any creatures hearing. They fell to their knees in pain, but that had not been her desired effect. Her desire was realized when dozens of her soldiers climbed in through the broken window.

"I will rule once again, vampire. You will not stop me," Illyria said. She had plans. Her rule began. Now.

-

Gunn had this distinct feeling that Wolfram and Hart was falling to pieces. Then a chunk of the ceiling fell on the edge of his bed. He forced himself into a sitting position, holding his side as he hurried to leave the room.

Nurses and doctors rushed out the wing, more concerned with saving their lives than the patients. Not that Gunn was surprised; they worked at an evil law firm whose motto was, "We work together, but in a bad situation every man or woman for themselves."

He moved as quickly as he could with stitches in his side, more concerned on what the hell was going on than saving anyone. Actually, in his condition, finding anything, or anyone, would not be of his best interests.

"Get the bloody hell off me, you blue bitch!"

Gunn's attention was diverted to the direction of Spike's voice. He followed the continuous yelling, and found what could only be Illyria dragging Spike down the hall.

"You." She stopped and turned to face Gunn, ignoring Spike. "You will help me; you will be my new Qwa'ha Xhan."

This is my unlucky day, Gunn thought. "Uh…no thanks?"

"I will accept no answer other than yes." Illyria said, her voice more insistent, harder.

That confirmed it. This was just one bad day. "Spike, where the hell is Angel?"

"You mean the King of the Big Exit Seconded?" Spike retorted, his face clearly showing that this was the worst day ever, more so than Gunn's.

"What?"

"If you speak of the other half-breed, he retreated while his army was still in battle. This building falls as my army continues to fight his above us." Illyria answered, her answer more direct than Spike's. "Your leader has abandoned you. We will rise to power; eternal life is a promise. Do you agree to my offer?"

It only took him a moment. "Yeah."

Gunn knew this was wrong, this was a bad idea. The worst. It was the one that would damn his soul. If he ever died. And then there was the fact that Angel had skedaddled, left him, Lorne, and Spike to find a way to fend for themselves against Illyria. Gunn didn't care what the excuse was; nothing would ever make him forgive Angel.

And there began the Take Over.