A/N: Second to last chapter here! Epic smackdown with Caleb included. Enjoy! :-D
(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.
I'm gettin' ready for the end to come
That final hour it all comes undone
An' she drops the bomb
An' says she ain't my girl
I'm getting' ready
Ready for the end of the world
-George Strait, "Ready For The End Of The World"
The Slayer and her vampire stared entranced at the gleaming weapon. They hardly even reacted when the trapdoor slammed open and Caleb stormed into the chamber.
"So, you found it," he declared matter-of-factly, "Not impressed. 'Cause the question now, girly-girl, is can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there and—"
In a single, casual move, Buffy reached over and pulled the Scythe free. The stone it was embedded in—which had given the false preacher and his Bringers so much trouble—didn't offer the slightest resistance. The Scythe knew it was meant for her.
Caleb sputtered in shock, his usual arrogance deflated at the sight of the petite woman brandishing the weapon. "Darn."
Spike grinned. Seeing the preacher so discomfited was very gratifying.
Caleb slowly raised a hand in warning. "Now, before you go hurtin' yourself with that thing, why don't you do yourself a courtesy and hand it over now?"
Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah? You want it?" She raised the blade as if she might take a swing at him.
Caleb recoiled. "You don't even know what you got there."
"You're backin' away from it, though, ain't ya?" Spike retorted, signature cocky grin in place.
The preacher scowled at the couple. "You think wieldin' some two-sided doodad's gonna make a difference?"
"Let her go, Caleb," a woman's voice spoke from the shadows.
The preacher didn't move. "I let her go, she slices me open with that thing."
"No, she doesn't," a figure stepped out into the torchlight, "She hasn't got time. She has friends, and her friends are in trouble." She smirked at the Slayer. "Faith go boom."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Amy."
Beside her, Spike let out a low growl.
"Not quite." The witch flung out a hand. It passed right through Caleb's shoulder. "Poor Amy outlived her usefulness. Every time she tried to curse your happy little household, your lesbian pals always managed to counter them before they could do any damage." The first noticed the surprise on the Slayer's face and laughed. "You didn't know? Guess they didn't want you to worry."
"Ding-dong the witch is dead," Spike quipped, "Can't say I'm sorry to hear it."
"You should," the First sneered, "Caleb slit her throat right over the Seal of Danzalthar. Her blood was almost as weak as Jonathan's, but it got the job done. Gave us a couple of playmates to pick off the rest of Faith's merry band." Not-Amy's face twisted in a parody of concern. "Gee. You'd better hurry. You might be able to save a few of those girls."
"I'm not lettin' 'em out of here with that thing," Caleb declared, fists clenched at his sides.
The First gave him a dismissive look. "Sure you are. Then you'll come back for it later...when they've got their backs turned."
It obviously grated on the preacher, but he made no move to attack as the wary couple darted past him and disappeared up through the trapdoor.
There was a hint of light on the horizon; sunrise was approaching. Buffy and Spike raced through the woods until they reached the outskirts of down. Spike yanked open the nearest manhole cover and the two of them dove into the sewers.
"Where the bloody hell would Faith have taken the girls?" Spike asked.
Buffy shrugged, frustrated. "I don't know. We left before they worked out their plan. They could be anywhere." Her eyes lit up with an idea. She dug through her pockets until she produced her cellphone. She flipped the device open and checked the screen for a signal. "Come on," she growled, climbing up the ladder to stick her upper half through the open manhole. She grinned in triumph; the cell towers were still apparently working. Buffy quickly called the house and spoke to Giles. The Watcher filled her in on the plan that had been worked out in her absence. The Bringer they'd abducted had mentioned something about an underground armory. Faith and some of the Potentials went to investigate, but they hadn't returned yet and the others were getting worried.
After getting directions to the underground chamber where they thought the armory might be located, Buffy hung up and descended the ladder once again. She and Spike ran through the maze of tunnels, hoping they weren't too late.
Spike heard the distant sounds of girls screaming in terror, and the distinctive snarls of at least two Turok-Han. The vampire skidded to a halt beside some kind of access hatch leading to another tunnel or chamber further below. "Here!"
There was no time for finesse. Buffy and Spike both slammed the heels of their boots against the door until the whole thing broke loose from its frame and crashed to the floor below. Buffy leapt through the opening, Scythe at the ready. She saw the Potentials clustered together, facing three Turok-Han. One of the creatures had Kennedy by the throat, but on seeing the Slayer, immediately tossed the girl aside like she was nothing.
Two of the übervamps came at Buffy from either side. She spun, the blade of the Scythe beheading one Turok-Han, the tapered wooden handle staking the other. Buffy couldn't believe the sense of power the weapon gave her. Where before she couldn't even penetrate the creatures' armored chests, the Scythe's handle punched through with hardly any effort.
As the first two opponents dusted, the third übervamp grabbed Buffy from behind. The Scythe slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She managed to kick loose from the creature's grasp just as Spike dropped down through the hatchway and snatched up the fallen weapon. With a single powerful swing, the blade sliced through the last Turok-Han's neck and the monster dusted.
Spike grinned and handed the Scythe back to Buffy. The two of them turned to face the girls' stunned faces. They were filthy, some of them bleeding. Two of them were supporting an unconscious Faith between them. It looked and smelled as if a bomb had gone off in the chamber.
"Get the wounded," Buffy commanded, "We're leaving."
"Are there more?" an anxious Kennedy asked.
"There's always more," Spike muttered darkly. "Let's move."
The surviving Potentials were all too happy to obey.
They couldn't go to the hospital. The doctors and nurses had run off with the rest of the town.
The wounded were laid out in rows on the living room floor, the most serious cases seen to first. Every first-aid kit in the house was used, and when they ran out of ordinary bandages and antiseptic, bedsheets and whiskey were put to use. The situation reminded Buffy of some old war movie, wounded soldiers toted into haphazard tent clinics to be patched up by harried surgeons. But at least those guys knew what they were doing, more or less.
"Wil, come here," Buffy called out, crouched beside one of the injured girls, "She's losing a lot of blood."
"Got it," Willow hurried over and pressed a makeshift bandage to the girl's wound.
Buffy got up, saw Giles and Xander bringing Faith in through the front door, and hurried over. "The room upstairs is ready for her."
"Good. I hope we're in time," Giles muttered as he and Xander carried the unconscious Slayer up the steps.
"Is she okay?" a frightened Amanda hovered nearby, "Is she gonna be okay?"
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Kennedy tried to reassure her, then gave Buffy an uncertain look, "Right? You guys heal fast, right? You Slayers?"
"Yeah." Buffy somehow dug up a mostly complete first-aid kit and hurried for the stairs.
"So...she'll be okay?"
Buffy hesitated on the first step. "I don't know."
"What's with the axe thing?" a girl named Caridad suddenly asked.
Buffy looked in surprise at the Scythe still clutched in her free hand. In all the excitement, she'd forgotten she still had it. "I took it from Caleb."
"Yeah, at the vineyard," Spike couldn't help but snark from where he was patching up another injured girl.
The Potentials who weren't distracted by pain were shamed by his words.
"I think we got punished," Amanda whispered meekly.
Buffy blinked. "What?"
"We, uh... We followed her," Kennedy stammered uncertainly, "and it was—"
"It didn't work out," Vi said.
Spike rolled his eyes. The little bints were doing the same thing they'd done to Buffy; laying all the blame on Faith when things went south. Never mind that those were they risks they took when they went into battle, no matter who led them.
"You guys, it was a trap," Buffy said with a lot more patience than Spike would have, "It's not her fault. It could've just as easily happened to me."
"So, are you..." Caridad hesitated, "Are you, like, back?"
Buffy shared a look with Spike. "I don't know," she sighed, "I guess we're not leaving."
"So, we got a plan now, or anything?" Kennedy asked.
"Yeah, there's a plan," Spike answered in a wry tone, "Get ready. Time's up."
Buffy hurried upstairs to help with Faith while Spike continued to take care of the girls with the rest of the Scoobies. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally got the worst cases stabilized, at least for the time being. Andrew surprised everyone when he volunteered to go loot the hospital for abandoned medical supplies, and Anya agreed to go with him. They came back a while later with medicines, painkillers, bandages, and sutures. Everything they needed to ensure they didn't lose anyone else. This time, anyway.
When things finally quieted down, Buffy called a small meeting with Willow, Tara, and Giles in the witches' room. Spike joined in as well, leaning against the door frame and adding in the occasional detail when Buffy told her friends how they got the weapon from Caleb.
"It's just like the drawing in the book," Buffy said, indicating Michael Poole's text sitting on top of a pile of research material, "The Scythe."
"Can you tell us anything about it?" Giles asked.
Buffy shook her head. "The only thing I know for sure is it made Caleb back off in a hurry."
She let Giles handle the weapon. He examined it for a moment, then gave the blade an experimental swing, a delighted smile on his face. "This is really quite ingenious."
"Kills strong bodies three ways," Spike agreed, "Know I'd back off in a bloody hurry if somebody came at me with one of those."
"A-And you say you sense something when you hold it?" Tara asked.
Buffy shrugged. "Not much. But it's strong, and I knew it belonged to me. I just knew it."
Giles looked at the vampire. "Do you feel anything as well?"
Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. Same as Buffy. I just look at it and I know it's mine."
The Watcher gazed curiously at the weapon cradled in his hands. "In addition to being ancient, it's clearly mystical."
"Yeah, I figured that one out when I King Arthur-ed it out of the stone," Buffy observed drily.
"So, maybe it's like some kind of traditional Slayer weapon," Willow theorized.
"Then how come I'm sensin' it, too?" Spike wondered, frowning.
Tara ventured a guess, "M-Maybe it has something to do with the Claim."
"There's still so much we don't know," Giles lamented, "I can't imagine how something like this could exist without—without my having heard of it."
"I've noticed the good guys aren't traditionally known for their communication skills," Spike declared with a sardonic twist of his mouth.
"Right," Giles sighed, leaned the Scythe against the side of the bed, "Um, any chance that it might be something other than a tool for killing things?"
"The First's guys clearly wanted it out of that stone," Buffy replied, "It's not just a tool. It's important. We need to find out whatever we can. Who made it, when, why. Does it have a name? I don't know, a credit report? Just find out fast."
"We'll start work immediately," Giles assured her. He and Tara reached for the books while Willow went to switch on her laptop. Lucky for them, the landlines still worked, so she was able to go online. She just hoped the battery lasted until they found something useful.
"Don't worry, Buffy," Tara managed a semi-confident smile, "We'll find out everything there is to know."
"Good. Because right now," she nodded towards the Scythe, "that thing's all we got goin' for us."
Buffy made the unpleasant discovery that the lack of electricity meant no more hot water. She wound up taking the quickest shower in history before she changed into some fresh clothes. Spike did the same, though not as fast; cold water didn't bother him.
He stood behind Buffy while she brushed out her drying hair. "Mind tellin' me what you've been mulling over for the last half-hour, pet?"
Buffy glanced at the spot on the mirror where she guessed Spike's reflection would've been, if he actually had a reflection. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tied it in place with a black scrunchie. "Dawn."
Spike tensed at the mention of the Little Bit. The war with the First was rapidly coming to a head. People were going to die. The thought that one of those people might be Dawn...
"She'll never agree to leave."
"I know." Buffy turned to face him. Her expression was somber. "We won't get a chance to say goodbye."
Spike understood. Buffy was going to make sure her sister was safely away from Sunnydale, whatever it took. Knowing the teen's stubbornness, this meant resorting to some pretty underhanded measures. But Buffy would rather have Dawn alive and pissed off at her than dead.
"Guess you got a plan worked out." Spike rested his hands on her shoulders.
Buffy nodded, not trusting her voice. She closed her eyes as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Without another word, she left the room in search of Xander. She found him in the kitchen, which was good, since nobody else was in that room. It gave her the chance to relate her plan in relative privacy.
"You got it?"
Xander gawked at her, his remaining eye wide with astonishment. "Wait. I'm not to the 'got it' place, yet. I'm still in the neighborhood of 'You've gotta be kidding.'"
"You know it's for the good," she reasoned gently.
"I don't," Xander argued, "Buffy, do you get that? If I do this, that's it for me for this fight. I feel like you're puttin' me out to pasture." He stared at her, almost pleading. "I got hurt, but I'm not done. I can still fight."
"I know. That's why I need you to do this," Buffy explained, "Xander, I need someone that I can count on, no matter what happens."
Xander sighed, shoulders slumping. They both knew he would give in to her wishes in the end. He uttered on last half-hearted protest, "I should be at your side"
"You will be," Buffy smiled softly, "You're my strength, Xander. You're the reason I made it this far. I trust you with my life. So I need you to do this for me."
Slowly, reluctantly, Xander nodded. "Okay."
Faith was finally awake when Buffy checked in on her. The Scythe was once again in Buffy's possession, Giles, Tara, and Willow having scraped together what little information their research could glean on the weapon.
"You're back," Faith mumbled, still half-groggy.
"So are you." Buffy approached the bed. Faith noticed the weapon in her hand and arched an eyebrow. "What you got there, B?"
The blonde woman held it up so she could see it better. "Took it off Caleb at the vineyard."
A sardonic grin tugged at Faith's lips. "So, you were right the whole time."
Buffy held the Scythe out to her. "Take it."
Curious, the other Slayer accepted the weapon. Surprise flashed across her expression as her hands tightened their grip on the handle. She closed her eyes, absorbing the strange sensations.
"You feel it, too, don't you?" Buffy didn't really need to ask. She could tell.
"Damn," Faith's eyes fluttered open, "And damn, that's somethin'. It's old. It's strong, and it feels like—like it's mine." She looked at Buffy and the excitement drained from her face. She carelessly dropped the Scythe beside her on the mattress. "I guess that means it's yours."
"It belongs to the Slayer." And, apparently, the Slayer's Intended, but she wasn't ready to go into that with Faith just yet.
"The Slayer in charge," Faith countered, "which I'm guessing is you."
Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand resting beside the Scythe. "What happened down there wasn't your fault."
"I'm really not lookin' for forgiveness," Faith muttered, not meeting her eyes, "I blew it."
"You didn't blow it."
"Tell that to—"
"People die," Buffy interrupted, "You lead them into battle, they're gonna die. It doesn't matter how ready you are or how smart you are. War is about death. Needless, stupid death."
Faith pondered this for a moment. She shifted in the bed as a thought occurred. "So...here's the laugh riot. My whole life, I've been a loner. No ties. No buddies. No relationships that lasted longer than— Well, Robin lasted pretty long," she grinned, "Boy's got stamina."
Buffy's eyes widened. "Principal Wood? And you? And in my..." She jumped up from the bed, the look on her face a mixture of astonishment and horror.
Faith smirked at the Slayer's reaction. "Don't tell me you two got wriggly?"
"No! No. No, no. We're just friends. Or mortal enemies, depending on which day of the—" She stopped herself from digressing and tried to force the conversation back on track, "Was that the funny part?"
"Okay, the point. Me, by myself all the time, and lookin' at you, everything you have...and, I don't know, jealous," she shrugged, "And then there I am. Everybody's lookin' to me, trustin' me to lead them, and I've never felt so alone in my entire life." She gazed at the petite blonde in a new light. "And that's you every day, isn't it?"
Buffy's smile was tinged with regret. "I love my friends. I'm very grateful for them. But that's the price of being a Slayer."
"Guess bein' a Slayer's a burden we can't ever share," Faith mused, "And no one else can feel it." A thoughtful pause, then she added, "Thank god we're hot chicks with superpowers."
Buffy laughed, then she stared at the other Slayer, considering. Finally, she pulled a slim book from her jacket pocket and dropped it on Faith's lap.
"What's this?" Faith picked the book up, flipped through a couple of pages in curiosity.
"It was written by a Watcher named Michael Poole," Buffy explained, "The Council tried to have it destroyed a hundred years ago. This is the last copy."
Intrigued, Faith asked, "What's the deal with this book that the Council wanted it gone?"
Buffy smiled and headed for the door, tossing over her shoulder, "Read it and find out."
Faith stared at the doorway moments after Buffy was gone from her sight, then she turned to the first page of the book and proceeded to read.
Spike had made a run to the butcher's, having not had a chance to feed all day, what with the aftermath and the triage. Luckily, the butcher's walk-in freezer was insulated well enough that the blood he found inside hadn't gone off, even without electricity. Spike chugged down as much tepid pig's blood as he could hold without making himself sleepy, then headed for home. Along the way, he saw Xander drive past with Dawn in the passenger seat. The girl's head lolled, clearly unconscious. Spike didn't envy Xander having to deal with the teen when she woke up and realized she was being kidnapped for her own safety. Dawn was a real terror when she was pissed off enough.
Xander met Spike's gaze and nodded in passing. Spike nodded back, watching the taillights fade into the distance, then he continued on his way.
He came through the front door just as Buffy descended from the second floor.
"Honey, I'm home," Spike joked.
"We've got work to do," Buffy stated without preamble.
The vampire raised a scarred eyebrow. "Another solo mission, is it?" he frowned, "Or 'duo mission'? Big secret mission, anyway."
"It's not a secret. Well, it is, but that's the point of the mission; find out the secret," she hefted the Scythe, "This thing was forged by...we don't even know. I mean, something about a tomb on unconsecrated ground. That's what we have to do. Find out what this is and why we have it."
"Well, no time like the present." Spike reached for the doorknob.
Buffy placed a hand on his arm, staying him. "Spike...about last night," she licked her lips, searching for the right words. She lifted the Scythe for emphasis. "This might be the key to everything. And the reason I'm holding it...is because of you," she smiled, "Because of the strength that you gave me last night." Her gaze was full of gratitude, but also thankfulness that he was in her life, always there for her when she needed his support the most.
Spike slowly turned from the door so that he was facing her again. His expression was at once tender and wistful. "Last night was... It was the best night of my life. I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy. I've done everything. I've done things with you I can't spell," he smirked, then let it fade into a tiny smile, "But...I've never...been close to anyone, except you." He uttered a slightly self-conscious laugh, "Thought I couldn't possibly get any closer to you. But last night...all I did was hold you, watch you sleep...and it was the best night of my life."
Touched by his heartfelt confession, Buffy reached up with the hand that wasn't holding the Scythe and rested her palm against his cheek. Spike placed his hand over hers, leaned into her touch, then turned and lightly kissed her palm before gently withdrawing. He turned, opened the front door. "Let's go be heroes."
Buffy nodded and walked with him out into the night.
It didn't take long to find what they were looking for. There weren't that many tombs on unconsecrated ground that bore a paganistic flair. In fact, they could only think of one that fit that description.
"I must've passed by this thing a million times on patrol," Buffy mused as they approached the small pyramid. It stood just outside the fence of the cemetery, partially obscured by the surrounding trees. It was obviously neglected, covered in dead vines, dead leaves and accumulated dirt in all its cracks and crevices.
Spike shook his head and huffed a wry chuckle. "Always thought it belonged to some rich ponce with a delusion that he was the reincarnation of King Tut or some rubbish."
"Who would've figured the pagan-looking tomb was actually a pagan tomb?" Buffy gave a philosophical shrug.
The couple approached the weathered structure. When they reached the door, Buffy decided to forgo subtlety and simply kicked it in. The door broke free of its frame and skidded down the steps leading into the tomb's interior. Spike and Buffy entered warily. The tomb was much bigger than they expected, since much of it was actually underground. There were ancient bits of pottery, urns, and statues, all coated in a thick layer of dust. Gauzy curtains, tattered and frayed with age, blocked their view of the back part of the interior. The only hint that there might actually be someone there was the fact that several lamps had been lit.
A feminine voice emerged from the curtained-off area, "I'd forgotten."
The couple tensed. A pair of hands parted the curtains and a woman stepped into view. Her hair was long and white, her skin pale gray. She wore long, formerly sumptuous robes, their once vibrant colors now only a memory. The look on her face could only be described as benevolent. "I'd forgotten how young you would be. It comes from the waiting. The mind plays tricks." She glanced at the Scythe. "I see you've found our weapon."
"Who are you?" Buffy asked, unsure.
"One of many. Well," the woman shrugged, "time was. Now, I'm alone in the world."
Spike gave her the once over. "So, what, you're some kind of ghost?"
The woman's smile was tinged with amusement. "Nope. I'm as real as you are. Just...well, let me put it this way; I look good for my age." She looked at Buffy, held her hands out. "I've been waiting."
Buffy didn't know why, but some instinct told her that she could trust this stranger. So she handed over the Scythe without much hesitation.
The white-haired woman gazed at the weapon in fondness. "You pulled it out of the rock. I was one of those who put it in there."
"What is it?"
"A weapon. A Scythe. Forged in secrecy for one like you who—" she paused, suddenly remembering her manners, "I'm sorry, what were your names?"
"Buffy," she pointed to herself, then gestured to the vampire, "And Spike."
The woman blinked. "No, really."
"What?" Spike challenged.
The woman sighed and moved along, "We forged it in secrecy, and kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who—"
"Yeah, met those guys," Buffy wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Didn't really care too much for 'em."
"Ah, yes," the woman smiled knowingly, "Then you know. And they became the Watchers. And the Watchers watched the Slayers. But we were watching them."
"Oh, so you're like..." Spike frowned, "What the bloody hell are you?"
"Guardians. Servants of the First Good. Women who want to help and protect the Slayer." She held up the Scythe. "We forged this centuries ago, halfway around the world. Forged there, it was put to use right here, to kill the last pure demon that walked upon the earth. The rest were already driven under. And then there were men here, and then there were monks, and then there was a town, and now there was you. And the Scythe remained hidden."
Buffy shook her head, confused. "I don't understand. How is it possible that we didn't know any of this?"
"We hid, too. We had to, until now. We're the last surprise." The Guardian offered the Scythe back to her. "This is a powerful weapon."
Buffy took the Scythe, relieved to have it back. "It is."
"But you already have weapons."
"Oh." Buffy's shoulders slumped. She was right. The First still had the advantage of sheer numbers. One Slayer with one powerful weapon wasn't going to turn the tide.
"The Scythe is more than a symbol of death," the Guardian intoned, "It is also a symbol of life. It brings in the harvest so that the people can live for another year." The woman stared meaningfully. "The seeds have been sown in every Potential in your care. It is up to you to reap the harvest."
Spike let out a faint, impatient sound. What was it with these portentous sods and their cryptic code-speak? Why the hell couldn't they give a straight answer?
The woman turned her fathomless gaze on him. "You feel the Scythe's power, too."
The vampire nodded. "Yeah. Mind tellin' me what that's all about?"
"You are part of the Slayer, as she is part of you. It is all connected; Slayer, Intended, and Scythe." She turned back to Buffy. "Use the Scythe wisely, and perhaps you can beat back the rising dark. One way or another, it can only mean an end is truly near."
A pair of hands suddenly reached around from behind her and snapped the woman's neck with a single, brutal twist. The Guardian's lifeless body dropped to the floor, and a grinning Caleb stood in her place. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last part on account of her neck snappin' and all. Did she say the end is near?" his smile widened, "Or here?"
Buffy swung the Scythe at him. He caught the handle easily before the blade could reach his neck.
"I'm gonna take such sweet pleasure in taming you," he whispered before his fist connected with her face.
Spike snarled and barreled into the preacher, knocking him back a step, enough for Buffy to yank the weapon from his grip and come at him again. Caleb dodged her and Spike's blows with almost ridiculous ease, and those that did strike him he easily shook off. An arrogant sneer twisted his face, his earlier reticence in facing off against the Scythe now gone.
"You're not slippin' out of this fight, girl." Caleb's fist punched through one of the support pillars a second after Buffy ducked his incoming fist. "Can't you see? You can't stop me. I can just keep goin' back for more. It's like bein' reborn."
He kicked Buffy in the stomach and sent her crashing into a wall, the Scythe falling from her grip. Caleb lifted her up by the collar of her jacket, punched her in the midsection, and let her drop again.
Spike grabbed the Scythe from the floor and brought its handle across Caleb's throat, dragging the preacher away from the out-of-breath Slayer. Caleb took hold of the weapon and twisted the two of them around so that their positions were reversed. Spike countered by flipping the preacher over his shoulders and Caleb landed face-up on the floor. Spike plunged the stake-end towards the preacher's head, but Caleb caught the handle, halting the point mere inches from his left eye. There was a momentary stalemate as both powerful beings struggled for dominance, but then Caleb kicked up and his shoe connected with the side of Spike's head. The vampire staggered, fell. Caleb jumped to his feet and kicked the vampire in the face. Spike fell back, stunned.
As Caleb reached for the fallen Scythe, Buffy leapt in and rained several rapid punches down on him. The preacher seemed more annoyed than anything. He grabbed her by the wrist as she took another swing at him and rammed his fist into her face, once, twice, the third time knocking her against a pillar and leaving her sprawled on the ground. He picked her up and swung her body into the pillar hard enough to knock several stone blocks out of place and leave the entire thing askew.
Buffy rolled on the floor, struggling to regain her feet. She saw Caleb pick up the Scythe and give it a playful twirl. "I was kinda hoping it would go this way," he grinned, raising the blade over his head to bring it down on the hapless Slayer.
"Hey!"
Caleb turned at the unexpected voice and received a punch to the jaw that sent him skidding several feet, losing the Scythe in the process.
Buffy gaped at the sight of Angel in all his glory, a cocky smile on his handsome face. She accepted his outstretched hand and let him help her to her feet.
"I was never much for preachers." He looked her over. "You look good."
"You look timely," Buffy grinned, then admitted, "And also good."
"Heard maybe you needed a hand," Angel told her, "I went by the house and Giles told me where you were."
"Well, now you can bloody well shove off," Spike staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his nose, "Slayer and I got this under control."
"Yeah, I can see that," Angel threw him a disdainful look. He turned to Buffy and asked in a low voice guaranteed to be overheard by the other vampire, "What's he doing here?"
Buffy's eyes darted between the two vampires, searching desperately for something to say that would avert the impending confrontation between her ex and her lover. "Um..."
An angry growl drew everyone's attention to Caleb, who was getting back up. Relieved by the interruption, Buffy halted Angel as he made a move towards the preacher. The dark-haired vampire smiled down at her. "Ah, it's one of those things you have to finish yourself."
"Really kinda is," Buffy agreed.
Angel obligingly stepped back and leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at the enraged preacher and grinned. "You are so gonna lose."
Spike remained where he was, tense and ready to step in should Buffy need his help. But he knew she wanted to finish this alone. Wanted to show off for the ex, he thought bitterly. He hastily tamped those petty emotions down, not wanting them to distract her at a critical moment. They'd deal with the Angel issue after Buffy took care of the preacher.
Caleb stormed towards the Slayer as she readied her weapon. Buffy spun around, the Scythe's blade whirling. Caleb got hold of the handle and twisted it from her grasp. He struck her with the flat of the blade and she stumbled against the nearest wall. Caleb lunged, intending to skewer her with the stake-end. Buffy dodged at the last second and the tapered point penetrated the stone wall. She kicked the preacher away and yanked the Scythe free. Caleb swung at her, and that's when Buffy saw her opening. She ducked under his swinging arm and sliced the blade deep into his midriff, leaving a wide wound that threatened to spill his insides onto the floor. Caleb stared in dismay at this mortal injury, then he started to laugh. He waved a finger at Buffy as if he were scolding her, even as his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor, motionless, eyes staring at nothing.
"See?" the Slayer beamed at her audience, "Under control."
Angel sauntered proudly over to her. "Well, at least you could tell me you're glad to see me."
And before Buffy could even react, Angel leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips.