Author's Note: We have reached the end of What's My Line and it will be a few parts at least before we begin to approach Ted. Please put your tray tables in an upright and locked position and do not get up until the last line has been reached and the fic has come to a complete stop. As always, thank you for flying Mediancat.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine. Except for Rae and Sheila (mostly) and the storyline.

X X X X X

I thought frantically for a second, then remembered the shard of wood Sheila had handed me, and quickly got it out.

Spike snorted. "You think that little splinter's going to bother me?"

"No," I said. "But it might bother her."

And I turned and held the shard at Drusilla's heart. She was still weak from the operation. She wouldn't be so for long, but by the time she recovered the situation would be over.

I hoped.

If it sounds like I was being fearless and heroic, I'm telling it wrong. I was scared as hell.

I also wasn't entirely sure whether I was bluffing. One of the things I've picked up in my time being a detective is how to lie successfully. I can pretty much pull it off consistently with anyone, except for Clarence Weidman (who's naturally suspicious of everyone anyway) and Dad (who do you think taught me in the first place?).

Spike stopped in his tracks. Then, in a low and deadly voice, he said, "You'd damn well better not hurt her, bitch."

"Stopped you from hurting me, didn't it? Now back off."

Right then, the fighting ended on the main drag of the church. One-eye was unconscious, Willow was nursing a head injury, Cordelia was cursing about the state of her clothing, and all the other vampires were either dead or had made the percentage decision to run for the hills. Either way, it was Spike vs. everyone.

Spike was as smart as I remembered, unfortunately. He noticed the lack of a melee about five seconds after I did, looked at Kendra and Buffy stalking towards the altar, and moved towards Angel, grabbing the exhausted vampire around the neck before Buffy or Kendra could reach him. Was vampire strength capable of simply ripping someone's head off? I didn't know and right now was hardly the time to be experimenting.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Spike said.

"That if you hurt Angel your life is going to be measured in seconds?" Buffy said. By this point, everyone else had gathered behind them. Rae was on the floor tending to Willow, whose injury didn't seem particularly severe. Sheila had another makeshift stake in her hands; a slight nod from me and she let her arms relax, though she seemed ready to "find the target" again at a moment's notice.

"I don't see what we're arguing about," Kendra said. "Surely this is a small price to pay to be rid of two such monsters."

Spike said, "Yeah, but it's not a price she's willin' to pay, love, and everyone else in the room knows it. And I'm wagering that if you try to come up here she'll tackle you before I can so much as twitch a muscle." No one said anything. "So it seems what we have here is a standoff."

I knew it wouldn't be one for too long. While I had no idea of the timeframe, I knew that Drusilla's weakened condition was still because of the spell and that within, probably, hours at most she'd be strong enough to shoulder her way out of a sizeable pile of rubble dragging an injured Spike behind her. Me? Not so interested in dealing with that at the up close and personal level. Even if "See my eyes, be in my eyes," wasn't likely to affect me, Drusilla didn't need to hypnotize me; she could just rip my throat out. Once again, a lack of superhuman strength proving something of a problem.

I should really look into that.

Assuming I survived the next five minutes.

"You do realize we are highly unlikely to trust you to simply release Angel should we get -- our compatriot--" Good save, Giles; no need for him to know my name, bad enough he knows my face -- "To release Drusilla."

"Which is why I called it a standoff. Because while you and you," he pointed to Buffy, "Might keep your word, the Caribbean Queen back there's just itchin' for a chance to send us both off to our just rewards. So here's the way we're going to play it. She leaves. And you," he pointed to Rae, "Can take the redhead out of here." Spike's tone was equal parts light and deadly. The outward banter of the words did not nearly match the lethal glances he was shooting my way. I presumed that if Drusilla got so much as a splinter in her, that Spike would do his level best to kill me.

I think I've had enough listening to fear for one night. I'd like to listen to hope for a while.

Hope? Hope? You out there, buddy?

"It might be wise for everyone else to leave as well."

"I'm not --" Xander protested.

"Xander, go," Buffy said.

"Well, hell, I'm not going to argue twice," Cordelia said.

"Of course not," Xander said. "You might ruin your hair. More."

"What's wrong with my hair?" She shrieked and ran out.

Xander shook his head and left the room. Possible hope. Again, assuming I survived the next five minutes. Kendra left only on a glare from Giles; she dragged One-eye with her. Good. Because what the next ten minutes didn't need? A berserk assassin.

Apparently it's not just a bad thing that Sheila was so thoroughly trained by her Watcher.

Sheila, however, wouldn't go. "Nuh-uh. Don't trust him. Bastard tried to kill me."

Spike squinted theatrically as though trying to see something in the distance. "Right," he said. "That is you. The one in the alley. How's tricks?" Sheila growled. "And that ends that. Now back to business," he said, turning to me.

"I know, I know," I said. "Hurt her and you'll rip my intestines out through my ears and use them to string your guitar."

"Well, no; I don't play the guitar. But I like the way you think, otherwise."

"Spike," Giles said. He and Buffy and Sheila had clustered together, about ten feet from the altar. Everyone was visibly tensed to move on the slightest provocation. "How can we resolve this?"

"I was hopin' you could come up with a few ideas," Spike said.

"We could kill them all," Drusilla said. "I don't like this one."

I don't think I've been more terrified since Aaron Echolls had me trapped in that refrigerator.

Drusilla was talking to me.

"What did I do?" I said.

"You are," she said languorously. "I can't feel you at all and I don't like that, not one little bit. It's like you don't belong here and even the Slayer belongs here. Even though she is a very naughty girl."

Damn the Adversary. Right now, I'd rather be vulnerable to magic if it meant that Drusilla wouldn't find me the least bit interesting.

Anywhere but here: Game, or way of life? Discuss.

"Do you want me to bring 'the Caribbean Queen' back in here?' Buffy asked icily. "I'd like to have this end without having anyone killed who doesn't need to be. But if that doesn't work, I'll settle for you going your way and us going ours."

"For as long as it takes us to go our separate ways, anyway, sure," I said.

"How about a simple countdown?" I said. "We both back off on the count of three, then Buffy comes and gets Angel down, then you do the same for Drusilla."

"And what's to stop you from killin' Dru in the process?" Spike said.

"Our word," Giles said. "And the fact that Angel means more to -- us alive than the two of you do dead." I noticed that slight hesitation. I'd bet that even though Giles didn't have the instinctual dislike for Angel that he did after Jenny Calendar's murder, that if it were he and Kendra in this room he probably would have, reluctantly, told her to go to town.

"Don't do it, Buffy," Angel said groggily. "Kill them now."

Spike cuffed him in the back of the head. "Hey. Who said you could talk?"

"Seems fair," Angel said. "If Dru can join in, I should be able to."

"I don't the see the percentage in lettin' you encourage them to kill me. Simmer down." Spike said.

"Then you be quiet as well," I said to Drusilla with as much bravado as I could muster.

"Do what she says, Spike," Drusilla said. "She's like a book with no words. It frightens me, it does."

Say.

What?

I frighten her?

It was all I could do, even given everything else that was going on, not to burst out laughing. I couldn't entirely suppress a snort, which made Spike look at me warily, and Buffy and Sheila confusedly. Giles, you'll be pleased to learn, kept his gaze steadily on the situation as a whole. That Watcher training comes in handy, apparently.

"Your word, Slayer?" Spike said.

"My word."

"And yours, Watcher?"

-- yes."

"And you . . . You?" Spike gestured at Sheila as he spoke.

Sheila shrugged. "Sure. 'slong as you hold up your end, I'll hold up mine. Hurt the manhunter there and the deal's off."

Spike looked at me. "The manhunter?"

"Long story," I said. "And one we really don't need to get into now. Or ever." This was not a time to end a running gag with "Apparently not that long."

"Right then," Spike said. "Your word?"

"Three minutes ago I was going to count myself lucky if I lived past midnight," I said. "I won't hurt your girlfriend."

"Why, thank you," Drusilla said with, apparently, genuine courtesy.

You know, I honestly think in coming up with her Joss Whedon created the second best genuinely insane character ever. Only the Joker has her beat.

And not by much.

Note to Adversary: Not a challenge. Not a bet. Please don't take it as such.

Of course, it was a whole truckload easier to admire Drusilla's insanity when you were doing it at a distance -- like, say, another universe. Here? Not so much. I don't think there is such a thing as a safe distance, in this case.

Maybe the moon.

Maybe.

Back to the action: Spike said. "Fair enough then. You have my word, assumin' it means anything. One. Two. Three."

We both slowly, hesitantly, moved -- I brought the wooden shard down to my side, and Spike removed his arm from around Angel's weakened neck. Fits and starts all the way around, but eventually neither of us was within fifteen feet of the altar. Spike had wisely moved so that he was well away from Buffy, Sheila and Giles. Smart move. But then, no one ever said he was stupid.

(In fact, we might have been better off if he had been. He was much smarter than Angelus, and a damn sight more able to hold a coherent conversation than Drusilla. One of the most worrisome phrases in the Buffyverse? Spike gets bored.)

"Your turn, Slayer," Spike said.

Buffy walked to the altar, keeping one eye on Spike and one on Angel. "How're you doing?" she said as she started to cut him down.

"Much better, now," Angel said. "I still think –"

"I know," Buffy said. "But you came out of it alive. That's the important thing." She got him down and half-carried him back to where everyone else was standing.

"I suppose there's no chance you're going to leave?" Spike asked as he started to do the same for Drusilla.

"Eventually," Giles said. "We have no desire to have you behind us as we exit."

"Afraid I might stick a knife in your back?"

"Among other things."

Spike nodded. "Smart man. I like you."

"Enough to leave Sunnydale forever?"

He snorted. "I didn't say I liked you."

"I can live with that."

"For how long?"

"As long as I need to," I said.

Sheila took a step forward and said, "'sis starting to sound like a threat."

Looking at Sheila, Spike shook his head sadly and said, "Damn shame I didn't nick you in that alley. You'd have made a hell of a vampire."

"Keep walking," Sheila said, her normally quiet tone becoming, if anything, even quieter.

Note to self: Sheila might not have quite have been the psychopath she'd liked to pretend she was. But, if her tone of voice meant anything, she could still be damned dangerous.

Spike read the same thing I did, supported Drusilla as they made a wide arc around the rest of us, and headed for the exit.

After about fifteen seconds, we did the same.

When we got out to the street, Xander and Cordelia were there. So was Kendra. Spike and Drusilla weren't far away, and Kendra was watching them the whole way. One-eye was sitting up groggily, leaned against a utility pole, a bit further down from where Spike was half-carrying his girlfriend.

Cordelia spoke first. "In case you're wondering what I'm doing here, it's because geniusboy over here decided to make sure you were safe, and like an idiot I decided not to let him die."

Xander did a balancing gesture. "Listening to you whine, death. Listening to you whine, death. Tough call." Cordelia's glare might not quite have burned holes in steel, but aluminum? Puddle of molten metal.

Kendra stepped forward. "And I did not leave because I did not trust them not to try and harm you." She gestured towards Spike.

And spoke loudly enough for him to hear, apparently, vampire hearing being a bit keener than the average person's. He said, loudly, "Keepin' my word here."

Then he turned to One-Eye and said, "Contract ain't up, you know. I paid you to kill the bitch. Kill her."

He walked away as One-Eye stood up and came towards us.

Oh, lovely.

Buffy quickly yelled out, before the cyclops could get to us, "Keeping my word, too!" Then she turned to Kendra. "Get them."

Clever. Really.

Kendra actually grinned. "It would be a pleasure." She raced down the street, deftly dodging around the Tarakan assassin, whose mission, after all, was to kill Buffy, not her.

Spike said, "Oh, bugger," and sprinted away as fast as he could.

In the meantime, One-eye was half-dazed and had had his clock cleaned already twice in about 24 hours. So, while the rest of us backed away – Giles supporting Angel -- Buffy did it a third time. If the assassin got in more than two good blows, I didn't see them.

In the meantime, Sheila had moved up next to me as we watched the fight. "Always up for some quality violence, huh?"

She said, "'sa victory lap, manhunter. Nothing more than a squash."

"Squash?"

"'sright. You don't like wrestling. Need to fix that."

While I tried to process that, Buffy finished off One-eye; almost before he hit the pavement, she turned to Giles and said, "What do we do with him this time? 'cause, no offense, Angel, but keeping him in your apartment didn't exactly work last time, and I don't need my very own pop-up assassin showing up every few days. That kind of comic relief I don't need."

"Much as I hate to say it," I said, "It might be time to bring in the police."

"And charge him with what?" Xander asked. "Malicious lying on the pavement?"

Cordelia snapped her fingers and said. "Mugging!"

"From the looks of things, we mugged him," Angel said.

"Maybe that's the way Don Lamb would see it if you told the story," Cordelia said. "Me, though? The Chase family might not be up there with the Echolls and the Kanes, but we're not that far away. He'll pay attention if he knows what's good for him. He knows what happened to the guy that came before him when he didn't listen."

"Which would be my father," I said.

"Yeah? And?"

No point in getting upset. "And nothing. Best idea I've heard yet

X X X X X

And she was right. Surprised at Don Lamb kissing up to the power elite? Who, me?

Of course, that lasted about 24 hours, after which One-eye and Patrice broke out of jail -- but, just like the mainstream universe, Giles had already managed to contact the Order, and the contract had been cancelled. After their escape, they both left town.

Willow was fine; a couple of stitches and a nasty bump, that was pretty much it.

Buffy told me later that Kendra had come back to the library later that night, bumped, bruised, and smelling strongly of eau de sewage; it won't surprise you to learn that she caught up with them in the vast Sunnydale underground and that they beat the living hell out of each other.

Inconclusively. Of course.

Eventually Spike and Drusilla had crawled off into the darkness. Literally. It might not have been the temporary paraplegia of the original timeline, but Kendra'd been pretty sure Spike had been nursing a badly broken arm by the time the fight ended.

Of course, everything doesn't wrap up in neat little packages; the timeline had been altered, Xander and Cordelia weren't together, Giles still wanted me to find "Epimetheus," and Willow was for some reason pressuring me to help her learn more about magic.

The hardest part?

Trying to come up with an explanation for the evening's events that would satisfy Keith Mars. Trust me, lying to Keith Mars is not something anybody does well. Me? He reads like a book.

Fun with Dick and Jane.

Still, we crossed the finish line, of this episode, anyway, and we managed to cross it in one piece.

Not bad, considering.