His name was Mark.

It was a weird name for a Lubber demon, probably not his birth name. She never encountered one but Angel had at some point. He mentioned it once, supposedly most of them were in some weird cult. Waiting for some messiah to come and end the world. Not as uncommon as you would think.

Not all of them were in the cult. Like a lot of humans, some were more focused on money and power than religion. Dirty money to be exact, as he was a 'kingpin' in Sunnydale. At least, according to the demon that Willy put her in contact with. Well, it was a bit more of a runaround than that, but the chain of demons she had to get information from, either by force, threats, or promises of non-violence all led back to the barkeep.

Then again, how much of a big deal could Mark be if they never crossed paths her first seven years in Sunnydale? She hoped it was a testament to his abilities, being able to pull strings from the shadows for years in her town and never even being noticed. The other option was this would be a dud.

The meet-up spot, predictably, was a dark alleyway late at night. She had been there for over fifteen minutes. He was late. She hoped it wasn't a trap, but she didn't have much of a choice besides to continue waiting.

Buffy felt her first, the skin on the back of her neck beginning to crawl, as a female vampire fell into her vision, approaching from the distant, dark end of the alley.

"Slayer," The vampire asked, a little lisp from her game face. "You're the Slayer?"

"The one and only," Buffy shot back.

The demon tilted her head in the direction she came from. "Follow me."

IMMORTAL

She laid out everything. It was a calculated gamble, but she didn't get snapped back in time and Oruvai didn't show up to strongly reprimand her, so The Powers must have approved of this slight violation to their one rule.

Then again, Mark didn't matter. He wasn't the woman who created a thousand Slayers at once, or the Watcher who helped her mold the New Council into exactly what the PTB wanted. He was just some demon. A demon crime lord, with a whole bunch of demon lackeys, but he couldn't matter that much. And she wasn't telling him about big things from a distant future, she was telling him about events she witnessed a few weeks from now in the original timeline.

Buffy wasn't even sure if it really was breaking the one rule she was given.

Oruvai was very clear. She couldn't tell Spike or her friends. It probably applied to her mom as well, but even that wasn't implicitly said. Nothing about spilling the beans to some random demon, so she did, at least necessary details and nothing more.

She told him about the multiple secret entrances they could use to get into the Initiative's base, where they held the demons, and when to attack, at night, when only a skeleton crew was on-site to minimize bloodshed and casualties.

She explained exactly what she needed from him. A demon, Vul'cha or some other type, that could get her in undetected. A few more to take out the roving guards and ones manning the control center. A tech, because she wasn't putting Willow in danger, not that she told Mark that. Their job would be to hack the operating system and release the holding cells and all other areas that were locked. And lastly, two explosives capable of leveling the compound.

One was for the base, one for Adam. She couldn't risk him somehow surviving the explosion. She needed one to strap directly to the chest on his mostly assembled body.

She even painted Adam in vague, but harsh strokes. Made it clear that this monster they were building would really muck things up for someone trying to run organized crime in Sunnydale. Muck things up for all demons, humans, and other living things in town. She made sure to drive the point home before the demon got any demon-y ideas about sparing Adam and trying to control him.

Walsh had that idea, and it didn't turn out well for her.

Her plan would probably have at least a few casualties but it could save a lot of lives. She didn't want anyone dying, but if a couple deaths could save most from getting killed again, she could live with that guilt. It was for the greater good as The Powers loved to say.

The demon stared across his desk at Buffy, his ghostly pale face rather blank. He didn't say anything for a while, and she hoped Mark was close to agreement once he processed all the knowledge she just dropped.

"So, why do I need you?" He asked.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"First, thank you. I mean really, I've been searching for these damn guys-" He paused, choosing to correct his words. "I've been searching for the Initiative for weeks. Bad for business when my employees keep disappearing. And wouldn't you know it, anyone I send out either comes back with nothing, or doesn't come back."

Mark leaned forward, placing both hands on his desk as he said, "I appreciate it, really, but you've given me all the information I need. A working plan even. Why do I need you? I could march my boys in first things tomorrow if I wanted, wreck their whole op- "

"No, you can't," Buffy cut him off, a little panic in her voice as visions of a horde of demons rushing Initiative soldiers, death everywhere, appeared in her imagination. "During the night, remember? The place is crawling with soldiers during the day. Unless you want to send all of your...employees down there and lose half of them, you need to do this at night. Follow my plan. I've seen it. And that's why you need me. I know more than you do."

"Sure," He admitted, leaning back into his chair. "But I'm pretty sure you've given me enough. We can manage."

"You can manage better- "

"Okay stop," He interrupted. "For fucks sake. I'm messing with you. It was fun at first but it's getting old."

"So, we're agreed then?" Buffy asked.

"No," He said with a smirk and a chuckle. "I mean I'm fucking with you in the sense I have no intent on helping the Slayer, or doing your little plan."

"But you just said- "

"Yeah, they're capturing my guys." Mark said. "But they've captured as much of my competition, maybe more. It all evens out."

Buffy shook her head. Her vision dropped to her hands laying in her lap as she tried to think of something. Anything. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

"Please," She asked. "Just think about it, okay? They will become a problem for you. I swear. Maybe not now, but eventually, and then it will be too late to stop them."

A bit of hyperbole, but she was growing desperate.

"Maybe, eventually," Mark admitted. "If I'm going to get my hands dirty, I would rather slaughter them all. End it properly."

Shocked, Buffy rose from her seat.

The female vampire, the one that led her here, jumped to her feet from her spot in the corner of Mark's office. Mark shot his hand out towards her. "Alice, sit." She met eyes with him, as he said again, "Sit." His tone was more stern the second time, and the vampire obliged.

"Don't worry." He said, still sitting on the opposite side of the table. "It's not worth the hassle, or manpower. See that's the problem. None of this is. Not your plan, not a full on assault. None of it."

She stared daggers at him, it didn't matter if she was surrounded by demons. The few rooms behind her, the ones she was led through by Alice, were crawling with them. Thirteen in total if she counted Mark and his vampire companion in the room with her. She didn't know if there were even more in areas or locations of his safe house that she hadn't seen. His own personal security force.

For a second, she was willing to walk into a slaughter of her own. It was too much for her, even if Spike was here it would be too much for them if most of the demons attacked at once. Her conviction wavered slightly. "Just think about it, please?" She asked.

He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll think about it. It's not a decision I can make lightly."

Alice jumped back up from her seat.

"No," He said warningly, snapping his head in her direction. For the first time since she met him, she could tell Mark was nervous. "The Slayer leaves unharmed. Besides, she would kill us both before she died."

Mark turned back towards her, his lips narrowing and nerves settling down. His turn was finished. It was her move now. Her choice how the next few minutes went. Suddenly, she realized the depth of the situation she had gotten herself in. All alone. She really wished bringing Spike along was an option.

She had more important battles to fight. More important things to risk her life on than this. It wasn't worth it.

"Thank you," She said, in reference to his consideration and mercy. She turned and headed for the exit before Mark changed his mind.

IMMORTAL

Spike was nearby. Like last night, she felt him on the edge of her senses. He was distracting, or perhaps this newly minted vampire had a bit more natural skill that most. Either way, this fight wasn't as simple as a couple punches and a quick staking. Finally, the vampire left an opening. Buffy front kicked his right leg out from under him, the bloodsucker managing to catch him weight with his right hand. Looking up to growl at her, the vamp had a clear view of her stake puncturing his chest before he could get back to his feet.

She flattened out her shirt, gaining her bearings, as she stared off towards the vegetation providing Spike cover. She didn't say anything, but kept looking to make it clear she knew he was there.

"Bit off your game tonight love," Spike said as he appeared in view. His voice was a little thicker, more hesitant and closer to the chest, than usual. It was barely noticeable but she picked up on it.

She shrugged. Making eye contact as he reached his hand up that held his cigarette. "Maybe. Think he took some karate lessons as a kid or something."

"Maybe" He managed, a slow exhale of smoke while he looked at her. "Bit late for the slaying too."

Okay, so it was late and she was a bit off her game. Past two in the morning. She had planned to go home, but a patrol called out to some part of her. A form of therapy to let her work through everything running through her head. A chance to process the hundred different concerns about what she told Mark and his gang of baddies. All the ways it could go wrong, and backfire, and blow up in her face. She was fairly certain it was the right move. Until it didn't go according to plan, not at all. Now she wasn't sure.

It was too late to worry about it. Already done. She knew that, but that didn't stop her brain from doing its thing.

"Have some stuff on my mind." She said, looking in his direction but no longer keeping eye contact.

"Right," Spike said.

Nothing. Not a sound, quip, or word. His face and jaw shifted, eyes darting from side to side, but he didn't say anything else. It was uncomfortable. Highly uncomfortable. Probably had something to do with the previous night and her stupid, lust-filled brain. Somehow, thinking it was a good idea to call out his name at the onset of her climax, more than once, knowing full well he was listening.

"Good night Spike." She said, turning and beginning to walk around. Trying to make her steps even, moderate paced, not in a rush but deliberate. Trying her best to hide how obvious an escape it was.

Good night?

Spike's face twisted, all the thoughts working through his own brain making themselves visible now that she wasn't looking. The good night statement somehow added itself to the list.

"Do it too Slayer," He called out.

She turned back, something in his voice gaining her attention.

"What?" She asked.

He took a few steps, cutting their separation in half. "When I got somethin' to suss out. Nothing like a little spot of violence to help you think."

She met eyes with him. Feet planted in the ground, allowing him to come closer.

"Especially when that something is wrong. Bloody shameful." The annoyance was still there, along with something else.

Here it was. The insults would start spewing out of his mouth at any moment. He was going to throw her actions in her face, try to catch her off guard. Not a clue that she knew he was there, that she did it because she knew. She even practiced the face she would use a couple times in the mirror the morning after. The appropriate mix of anger, shock, and outrage for when Spike threw her actions back in her face, couldn't forgot the embarrassment that needed to be there as well.

"Saw you crying and crying, sobbing your little eyes out. So loud you're lucky a vamp didn't hear you. Daft as the day you were born." He spat out.

Her eyes and face held all the emotions she practiced, but they were genuine. This was new information. She knew he was there. She didn't know he was there earlier. It was embarrassing, didn't make sense but it was. She was fine with Spike nearby, hanging on every word and sound she made, while she masturbated to thoughts of them together. But him seeing her cry was appalling? She could feel the heat flash across her cheeks. Apparently, it was somehow.

She dropped her head, letting the embarrassment win.

"Could smell it on you too, shame. Wet. Bad man touched you so good you couldn't deal." His voice was a weird mix of seductive and vindictive.

She snapped her face back up to look at him. Waiting. This was the windup.

"Not your fault," His word trailed off. Relenting. Buffy searched his face, not expecting this. He continued, "Wasn't your choice. Had that taken away from you."

"The spell." She replied.

"Yeah, the bloody spell." He agreed. "Not right. Taking away someone's choice...someone's free will. Inhumane, innit?"

His look was soft. She didn't know why he wasn't pushing, like she expected. She didn't know much at the moment. Lost in his eyes, the way he was looking at her. The look that resembled empathy and kindness in his facial features.

"Yeah," She rasped out, her throat suddenly tight.

"You didn't deserve it. Not a bit." His voice was soft.

She nodded in agreement.

He let out a sigh, some sort of realization hitting him. In a flash, he shifted back to something comfortable, familiar. The tenderness slid away, hidden from view.

"I don't deserve it either," He gritted out, scoffing and shrugging after his brain registered his own words. "Maybe I do, monster like me deserves to be in a cage. But it ain't gonna happen. I'm getting this bloody chip out Slayer. One way or another."

"Yeah," She agreed, hesitantly. "It's not right."

"Oh, is that so?" He asked, coming towards her.

"Yeah," She repeated.

"Easy to say that, easy to posture and grandstand about what's right and wrong, Slayer." He words dripped with anger as he kept closing the distance between them. "When it's all hypothetical, chip still in my noggin'."

"Spi- "

"Bit harder," His words cut her off, jagged and sharp-edged. "When it's actually out. When I start killing 'em one by one, drain this godforsaken town dry. When you're forced to stop me. Try to at least."

"Stop." She said, doing her best to make it sound like a command. Honestly, she knew it sound more like pleading when the singular world left her throat.

"Don't like thinking about it, huh?" Spike shot back at her.

"I already told you that Spike." She rasped.

"Go ahead, Slayer. Keep ignoring it and avoiding the truth." Spike said, leaning in until their faces were only a few inches apart. "Keep doing that until the problem is at your bloody neck. And it will be. Soon."

Buffy swallowed back hard, refusing to let her eyes drift or bottom lip tremble. Spike shook his head, clenching his jaw, before pivoting and stomping off into the night. He turned his head, slowing his stride for a moment, to yell back at her.

"It's coming out Slayer!" He lowered his voice down, but it still dropped with venom, adding, "I get this chip out...you and me are going to have a confrontation."

"Count on it," She rasped out, throat stinging, with no actual intent behind the words.

She watched him go. Asshole. He was an asshole. It was progress. Something she should be happy about, but he had to sour that and ruin it for her.

The way he looked at her. His words. Kindness, understanding, empathy. Only for a few seconds. His eyes. All the things that made memories flood her brain of before, gave her hope they would be what they used to be. Reminded her of moments that meant so much to her...

...A hundred plus years. And there's only one thing I've ever been sure of...you. Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it's not because I want you. Or 'cause I can't have you. It has nothing to with me. I love what you are...

She blinked her eyes, hard, a single tear falling down her cheek. She reached up, wiping it away, pushing it away from her face as she pushed that memory far from thought. She wasn't crying in a cemetery, not again.

She took off, her feet carrying her in the opposite direction of Spike. Intent of finding another vampire, beating her feelings away against whatever fledgling was unlucky enough to cross paths with her.

About the man that had given her a glimpse of who he was, who he was before in some time that no longer existed. Who he was right now, somewhere deep down. She believed that, she knew that. The smallest taste, one that wasn't nearly enough, before he pushed it away and leaned into his anger and frustration. His demon. Doing his best to convince her, and maybe himself, that was all he truly was.

She kept walking, on a warpath.

IMMORTAL

It was a routine. Simple enough.

A few steps this way. Take a puff. Turn and a few steps back. Another hit off the lit cigarette. Maybe wait a couple seconds, throw his head back to the ceiling above. Let out a scoff or grunt or whatever form his frustration wanted to come out as. Turn.

Repeat.

Bloody simple and easy enough. Good thing his floor wasn't carpet or he would have worn to the wood flooring below it by now.

Too harsh? Unnecessary? Maybe. Why did it bloody matter? And he didn't care.

He didn't care.

Slayer could pout, let her eyes water up all she wanted. Didn't matter.

Trying to avoid the truth. Could only do that for so long.

He didn't even really let her have it. Could have thrown what else he witnessed in her face. Her calling out for dear old Spike as she fingered herself to the promised land. That would really tear her down a bit. Knock her down a few pegs. Really make her ashamed. He didn't, not sure why.

Didn't matter.

He still had that in his back pocket, could slap her across the face with that information later if he wanted. When and if he felt like it.

Maybe he wouldn't. The spell put her- them through enough.

He turned.

A few steps this way. Puff on the cigarette. Turn. A few steps back.

He threw his head back, ceiling above unseen as he closed his eyes. A sigh escaped his lips. Lost in thought, motionless.

Didn't matter. He kept telling himself that.