If Wishes Were Horses…

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, I'm just using them for my own amusement. I always imagined this world's Buffy to be more like Faith, so go with that…also, the Master's factory layout is different than in the episode, imagine it's much bigger.

Chapter Six

'Here it is, listen: "In order to defeat Anyanka, one must destroy her power centre. This should reverse all the wishes she has granted, rendering her mortal and powerless again." You see? Without her power centre, she'd just be an ordinary woman again, and all this would be…well, as it's meant to be,' Giles explained.

'Okay,' Oz nodded. 'How do we do that?'

'Do we even know what her power centre is?' Nancy asked.

'I believe it may be symbolic, like…putting a stake through a vampire's heart. In any case, I think our best chance is to complete the summoning ritual in this book and speak with Anyanka. There's a list of spell components here - I don't have all of them, so first thing in the morning I'll go to the Magic Box and get the remainder. If Cordelia can't take back her wish, we may still be able to bargain with Anyanka, find out what price she asks to put things back as they were. If that fails, then Buffy may have to…well, let's plunge screaming from that bridge when we come to it, shall we?'

'Tell me how to help,' Oz said.

'Me too,' Cordelia piped up. 'I feel kinda responsible.'

'Kinda responsible?' Nancy exclaimed, and Oz gripped her hand across the table, shaking his head.

'Look, I know you think I'm just some dumb ditz who ruined your lives by making a wish,' Cordelia said hotly, 'but believe me when I say that I want to get things back to normal just as much as you do. More, actually – I mean, you don't know even you're missing iced non-fat mocha frappuccinos.'

'We have those here,' Nancy pointed out. 'This isn't Mars.'

'Oh. Well, how about the fumigation parties at the Bronze?' Cordelia said, standing to pace the floor. 'Or…taking some dish up to Lookout Point in Daddy's car? Or wearing anything that isn't - ' she held up her hand, Nancy's sweatshirt trailing over her fingers, 'badly fitting and the colour of sludge!' She stopped, tears filling her eyes. 'I miss all that stuff. I even miss school – how wrong is that? And Xander…' Her shoulders slumped and she buried her head in her hands. 'I miss Xander. Oh God, what have I done?'

'Shh, it's alright,' Giles said, putting a fatherly arm around her shoulder.

Sobbing, Cordelia turned her face into his sweater. 'Everything is wrong here,' she sniffled. 'It's almost the same, but with a side order of no cigar. It makes it even harder.'

'Nancy,' Giles said over Cordelia's bowed head. 'Could you put the kettle on please?' Grasping Cordelia's shoulders in both hands, he looked earnestly into her eyes. 'Now listen to me,' he said gently, 'we're going to get Anyanka here, and we're going to put everything right. You'll see – you'll be drinking a…mocha…iced…thingy before you know it.'

'Thanks Giles,' Cordelia said, managing a weak smile. 'I knew I could count on you.'

Buffy peered around the corner cautiously, Angel looking over her shoulder. At the front of the factory they could see a row of machinery, covered in twisting tubes and cables. To one side was a wooden cage, filled with frightened people. To the other was a stage, a crowd of vampires clustered in front of it.

'That's him,' Angel whispered, nodding towards the stage, 'the Master.'

'Nice. So here's the plan – I'm going in there to kill them all, and you're gonna stay out of my way.'

'Well, well, if it isn't me old mate Angel,' said a drawling voice behind them.

Buffy turned to see a lean, punky vampire with bright blond hair leaning casually against a stack of packing crates, smoking a cigarette and grinning.

'Nice threads, very spiffy,' he said to Angel, who looked self-consciously down at Giles's borrowed corduroys and chunky sweater. 'Who's Pollyanna?'

'Buffy, the Vampire Slayer,' she ground out. 'And you're about to make best friends with my Dustbuster.'

'No thanks, luv; I prefer my sucking done the old fashioned way,' Spike smirked, tilting his head and rolling his tongue against his palate. 'So you're the Slayer, eh? Prettier than the last one I killed.'

Buffy hesitated, thrown. She'd never had a vampire talk back to her like that – and, to her further discomfort, his curling tongue and tight black jeans were proving to be way too distracting.

'Spike,' Angel hissed quietly, stepping in front of Buffy. 'What are you doing here?'

'Came to join Team Angel,' Spike said, flicking his cigarette away and straightening, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. 'You might be a stinking, traitorous worm of a vampire, but I reckon you're right about this factory nonsense.' He gestured towards the corner. 'I mean, did you see those…those Suck-o-matics up there? Where's the romance, I ask you?'

'Why are we wasting time talking to this guy?' Buffy said to Angel. 'Don't tell me – he's got a soul too and you're both members of the Fluffy Friends Gang.'

'Soul?' Spike exclaimed, blue eyes widening. 'So that's what it is – I knew something smelled fishy!'

'That is such a lame pun,' Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

'No, I din't mean soul as in 'sole',' Spike began, then stopped. 'Hang about, why'm I trying to explain myself to you? Much rather be fighting you to the death.'

'Mutual,' Buffy sneered, eyes blazing.

'Well, step up then, petal,' Spike said, settling into a hip slouch and running one hand down his body. 'Come take me.'

Buffy swallowed down the unexpected surge of lust that almost overwhelmed her. Before she could react, Angel was grabbing Spike's lapels and the two vampires became a blur on the factory floor.

Buffy checked around the corner, and noticed a couple of the Master's flunkies walking towards them to check out the commotion.

'Fantastic,' she muttered, stepping into the whirling frenzy and coming out with a vampire's throat in each hand. They were both strong and she enjoyed the feeling of superiority as she managed to keep them apart. 'Listen, brainboxes, you've summoned the cavalry.' She pushed them away disdainfully, and they both straightened their clothes, glaring at each other, trying to pretend their egos weren't bruised like a peach.

'Hey,' came a hard voice from around the corner. 'Who's lurking back there?'

Spike grabbed Buffy's upper arm. 'Listen, luv, we don't have time for you to argue with me – whatever I say to these goons, go with it, okay?'

'Why the hell - ' Buffy began, but stopped as Spike jerked her around the corner with him.

'Only me,' Spike said casually to the two vamps. 'Brought a snack with me but she got a little feisty; was just reminding her who's in charge.'

Buffy glowered up at him. 'You are so dead,' she said through gritted teeth.

'See what I mean?' Spike laughed, and the two vamps chuckled. 'I like a kitty with claws as much as the next bloke, but this one's more of a hellcat.'

'She's a tasty piece, though,' said the taller vampire, running his tongue over his elongated fangs. 'Bet she's hell on wheels in the sack.'

'Oh, that is it!' Buffy snapped, wrenching her arm from Spike's grip. With a cool economy of movement, she staked the tall vampire before he saw it coming and felled his friend with a reverse roundhouse. She pounced on his prone form, knees striking concrete as he turned to dust underneath her.

'Blimey,' Spike said behind her, something husky in his tone. 'Steady on, luv, you'll do yourself an injury.'

'I'll do you an injury,' Buffy said, manhandling him out of sight and shoving him up against the wall.

'Ooh, how d'you know I liked the dominatrix kick?'

'You're a pig,' Buffy spat, swinging her arm back to stake him.

Somehow, in a whirlwind of black leather, Buffy suddenly found herself pressed up against the wall, shoulder blades biting painfully into the bricks. Her heart thumped as she stared up into the vivid blue eyes inches from her own. She glanced down at Spike's full lips as he said throatily, 'Have a care, pet – p'raps you're not as dominant as you thought.'

Buffy's brain went blank – no snappy comeback, no piercing insult – and her arms seemed to have forgotten how to work. She was intensely aware of every point of contact between their bodies; his pleasing weight pinning her to the wall; the firmness of his grip on her waist and throat. Spike's grin slipped, his eyes darkening. Buffy could only stare back, wondering if he had some kind of hypnotic power even as she tried to deny the swelling lust that was pulsing and throbbing through her.

Suddenly she was staring at the opposite wall; Angel had tackled Spike to the floor and was straddling him, vamped out and snarling as he landed punch after punch.

Snap out of it, Buff! she told herself sternly. On shaky legs, she grabbed Angel by the scruff of the neck and flung him to one side.

'You know what?' Buffy hissed, releasing her confused emotions in a torrent of anger. 'If you two can't be any more helpful than this, then get outta here before I add your names to my hit list. Got it?'

'Screw you Dorothy, and your little dog too,' Spike sneered, pushing himself to his feet. 'I came here in good faith, willing to help, an' all I've gotten is abuse! Well, forget it – go get yourselves killed, see if I care.' He hopped up to sit on a packing crate, wiping the trickle of blood from his nose with his thumb. 'Got myself a ringside view of the slaughter, so go get 'em!'

'I don't have time for this,' Buffy said, angry and horny in equal measures. 'I'm going in there to finish the Master – you two can do whatever the hell you want.'

'Wait, Buffy,' Angel said, watching her slip around the corner. He growled, turned to Spike. 'Why are you really here?'

'Was gonna trick you, kidnap you and torture you,' Spike shrugged, licking blood from his thumb. 'But then I figured maybe you've got a point about this factory lark, and now I know you're all soul-having then p'raps we can do a deal.'

'What kind of deal?'

'I help even up the odds for your little two-man army against the Master, and you tell me the key to that delightful red herring you threw in my path.' He smiled grimly at Angel's expression. 'That's right, Soulboy, I figured it out. Cunning bit of chicanery, that, I'm almost impressed – you told me where to find Dru's cure right enough, thinkin' I'd never be able to use it, so you wouldn't have to lower yourself to a lie.' He hopped off the crate and prowled towards his grandsire. 'But then, you never did give me enough credit.'

'I gave you far too much,' Angel sneered. 'I'm assuming it was Drusilla who found out about the key?'

'Meaning?'

'You never were the brightest spark, Spike.'

'Shut your hole! You don't get to act all superior to me, not when you're runnin' round at the Slayer's feet like her pet poodle!'

Angel growled, fists itching to punch Spike again, resisting with a monumental effort. 'Buffy needs my help right now - I'll deal with you later.'

'Not if I see you first, mate,' Spike muttered at Angel's back. He smiled, turned and stalked away.

After three steps, he pulled up short. 'Hang about; if he gets dusted, I'll never get that key…oh, bloody hell!'