Disclaimer: I don't own it if you recognize it. The storyline, however, is mine so no reproductions without permission.

Ignorance is Bliss

Chapter 4: Old Flame

"Everything that deceives may be said to enchant." --Plato

And the one who sees will look upon the mortal death and taste its coldness, and he will be one with it in the spirit . . . . Where the mind's eye may look upon its cause and smile with knowledge. Do you see?

The vampire's long, slender fingers wrapped around his neck, pinching his jaw bone between thumb and index until her nails drew blood. Xander was flat on the floor, stomach first, his torso supported on elbows alone as Drusilla forced him to look down at the corpse whose serene face was now inches below his own, her small body facing the opposite direction.

Dru sat straddling his backside, her long dress pulled up to her knees. Her breasts pushed into his shoulder blades as she leaned onto him, whispering into his ear.

"Do you see it, my special one?" she asked. A bead of sweat traced down his temple, and she kissed it off as if it was the sweetest of honey. "Do you?"

Xander took a rasping breath. He tried to give one of this typical smart-ass answers, but he couldn't. His eye was on the girl's, looking deeper and deeper into the pupil. He could see the fires raging on inside the body of the child, and once he had spotted it, he hadn't been able to break his connection with the dead.

"My knight," Drusilla cooed. "You are trying, but you keep wanted to slay the dragon," she scolded. "Let the beast have the maiden—reach out for the treasure."

Xander grunted, fear washing over him as he was forced to watch the mad visions that the spirit showed him. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and he shook from the tension of staying in his own world.

"Don't worry," the vampire said, loosening her grasp. "The teachers will teach and learned will be the lesson. I will turn your pretty white to gray, but I won't let the black get you, boy."

The young man let out a startled cry, clenching his good eye shut. His body grew lax. Dru caught him before he could fall onto the corpse, softly cradling him in her arms as she stood half-way to him to turn him onto his back. She leaned over him, smiling down like a proud mother. Dru stroked his cheek, running a finger over his lower lip.

"You saw."

Xander didn't move. His eye opened, but his gaze was wondering as if he was seeing more than the moldy ceiling of the room.

"That sweet girly gave you a face," Drusilla said, her smile vicious. "Tell me, who is the shadow who brings the storm? Who will be my master?"

"I saw him," Xander said, his voice too low for human ears. "I wouldn't have believed it, but . . . it was there, there for me to see. Just for me. . ."

"His name?" Drusilla asked.

Xander looked up at her, focusing for the first time. "And why the hell would I tell you?" he spat.

Drusilla's grin faded but not because of Xander's outburst. She turned her head, her nostrils flaring. With a toss of her head, she motioned for the big guy to go outside. "Daddy's coming for a visit," she sighed, looking down at Xander. "He's early. We must clean up this dreadful place before he arrives."

She slipped an arm under Xander, lifting him up. His feet were flat on the ground, but his knees didn't want to lock. The vampire sat him down in the corner of the room, his back against the wall.

"Stay put and there will be extra pudding for you, my sweet." She coughed out a short giggle, and then her face went hard as stone, all madness put aside. "How does it feel to know before it happens . . . like I do sometimes? How does it feel to know that you can't stop it?"

Xander didn't have time to answer. Goon Number One reappeared before the doorway and was half through when he exploded into a cloud of dust. In the wake of his termination stood Angel and Spike, each posed with a stake in hand.

"Drusilla," Angel greeted.

Spike stood to Angel's side, gameface on and body tense. He was ready for a fight. Drusilla had only left three guards around the Church and one in the basement—not nearly enough to even begin to sate his hunger for violence, especially since Angel had gotten the big fella.

The two ensouled vampires stepped into the room, their senses flaring up. Amongst the musty scent of earth, Xander's blood hung to the air, as well as the smell of dead flesh. Spike caught sight of the girl on the floor first. He heard Angel release a soft growl; the child was a typical choice for Drusilla.

Angel charged forward, throwing a fist at Drusilla. The female vampire dogged him, her nails, like talons, scraping his face. Angel ignored the sting, rolling out of the way of her attack. He didn't spare a glance at Spike, shouting out at him.

"Get Xander out of here and come back."

The demon in Spike was pissed at the command, but the man looked at Dru and didn't want to be a part of the enviable ending. Two strides later, he was crouched over Xander, pulling him to his feet.

"This is familiar," Xander commented recalling the evening he'd lost his eye.

"Well, if you'd learn to quit getting yourself into bloody messes. . ." Spike replied, but his heart wasn't in the statement—he was watching Angel battle Drusilla.

The female vampire tossed her sire over the room's dusty table, following him over. Angel got the upper hand again, putting a kick into her side. He threw her into the wall. Her body displaced the stones, and loose soil sifted through and over her head like a waterfall. She pushed back Angel, and her head turned to Spike. She stared at him with those predator eyes that had frightened and entranced him such a long time ago.

"And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?"

William looked up, drying his cheeks as quickly as possible. "Nothing," he stated quickly. He stared at the dark beauty before him, losing his tongue for a moment. "I wish to be alone."

"Oh, I see you," she said, ignoring his request. "A man surrounded by fools who can not see his strength. . ." She moved forward with the grace of a great cat, her pace displaying her own power with each strong step. ". . . His vision. . ." The smile that threatened to upturn her lips, reached her exotic eyes. ". . . His glory. . ."

Spike shook the memory away, but his eyes were still for her. Drusilla kicked out at Angel, and he fell back. She mouthed to Spike words that he could hear spinning through his mind. "That and burning baby fish swimming about in your head."

"Spike." The vampire looked turned toward the man he was holding up. Xander stared at him with an intensity that Spike had never seen before, even when the boy was shouting his hate at him. "Don't do it," Xander warned.

The vampire raised a brow of confusion. "What are you on about? We're rescuing you, if you haven't noticed."

"That's not what I'm talking about," the young man snapped. "You'll want to help. . . Don't. You'll just cause more pain. . . I've seen it."

"What the hell?" Spike growled. "What are you talking. . ."

Spike cut off, sitting Xander back down on the floor.

The fight was over.

Angel had picked up a rock and slammed it against Drusilla's head. She had dropped like a fly, lying on her side on the floor. Angel raised a stake, looking down at her seeming innocent form.

He could see it, just as Spike could, the girl that hid the monster within. But that was the difference between Angel and Spike. Spike had cared for her. He had loved her. Angelus had saw her as 'a work of art'. For over a hundred years, she had been Spike's world. He had gotten his soul since then, put his affections in another, and he hadn't thought of her once since. Guilt pulled at him like a hook in his throat drawing him out into daylight.

"I'm sorry," Angel breathed. "I'm sorry, Dru." He raised the weapon.

Spike was beside him before he could turn, a grim look pasted on his face. "I'm sorry, too, mate," the blond said, jumping into a kick. His boot threw Angel's head back, and the older vampire fell onto the floor, dazed. Spike grabbed Drusilla by the arm, tossing her over his shoulder as if she was little more than a rag doll. With a second thought, he punched Angel again with his free fist and ran a hand into his grandsire's pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

He was at the door way when he looked back at Xander. "You know what I mean to do?" he asked.

He could hear Angel groan from his place on the floor.

Xander nodded. "Don't. I can't explain the why, but she's going to be your curse."

"Can I save her?"

"If you do this," Xander began.

"Can I or can't I?"

The young man looked down to the floor. "Yeah," he said faintly. "Her soul's still innocent. You'll just have to find it."

Spike gave a swift nod and ran out of the room, up the staircase toward the chapel.

Xander stared after him. "Let's just hope hell doesn't find us first."

End Notes: I hope that wasn't terribly confusing. What Xander saw, the consequences of what Spike's done…what was on Spike's mind, will call come up in the next chapter. So, review and tell me what you think, even if it's in three letter ('Yay!' or 'WTF?')—I enjoy all feedback, as long as it doesn't say that I'm a scum sucking loser . . . lol.