Bring Me To Life – A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event

Part 32 – Hold My Hand


I found a picture in my basement

My face a hundred years ago

But I don't wanna do like he did

So full of pride and all alone

Escape is in my blood, Fear is in my bones

But I don't wanna walk that road

Please, help me

Hold my hand, I can hear the ghost calling

Help me stand, Even if the sky is falling

And I want you to know, I can't do it alone

Hold my hand, my hand, my hand

-"Hold My Hand," The Fray


Hyperion Hotel – Spike's Room

Late morning – After breakfast


It hadn't been long afterwards after Buffy left that Spike had retreated back to his room, many thoughts racing through his mind.

Those thoughts followed him into the shower, as he cooled down from his intense workout, while he dressed…and finally, as he stuffed the last item he needed into a black duffel bag.

He thought the night would have been enough time to decide for him, enough time to figure it all out, to answer all the questions that lay before him. But it wasn't. Not nearly enough. He had no idea what to do, no clue to what he should do. And in Spike's experience, whenever he couldn't make up his mind during times of war, it got too dangerous. And while Spike got off on the thrill of danger, when it got too dangerous, there was there was only one thing for him to do: exit stage right.

Throwing the black bag over his shoulder, Spike looked one long, last look at the still-trashed room behind him before hitting the lights. It was better this way, he was telling himself. He couldn't be any good to anyone like this, right? He was doing the right thing…wasn't he? Besides, it's not like they needed him around, he thought resentfully, not with the "great and glorious" Angel here. If Buffy and the others wanted that poofter over him, they could take that glory-hounding buzzkill and run with him all they wanted, but he'd be damned if he was going to play second fiddle to him again. He'd done that enough for one lifetime, he wasn't about to kowtow to that moody bastard again, not for anyone. Not for Buffy, not for…Dawn…or…or…

Faith, he thought wistfully as the image of the beautiful brunette Slayer entered his mind.

He had promised her he would think it over, and he knew the real reason was she was trying to buy time for him to change his mind about leaving. The thought of dashing her hopes in him—especially since she didn't seem the sort to give that kind of hope so freely—hurt him, more than he thought it could. But what could he do? What should he do?

He had barely had a moment to close the door behind him when…

"So. That's it, huh? Pity. I expected a little more from you from what I hear about you now, but evidently, courage doesn't come with your brand new soul. "

Surprised, he turned to his left to see Darla, leaning against the wall just a few feet from him, eying him with an unreadable expression on her hauntingly delicate and stunning facial features.

His surprise fading, Spike growled in consternation at her presence. Great, now the old lady's 'ere. Doesn't that bossy old hag have anything better to do with her time than bust me bollocks?

Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Darla's passive glance turned to a withering scowl as she stared down her Great Grandchilde. For a moment, Spike met her challenging stare with one of his own, but off the penetrating…and strangely intimidating…gaze thrown his way by the older (ex) vampire, he begrudgingly looked away, which brought a hint of a smile to the female blonde's perfect lips.

Spike was no fool. He had a good idea why she was here. "You heard, huh?"

"Word travels fast in this hotel," Darla softly replied, almost nonchalantly. "Apparently, Faith said in passing to Andrew while he was bringing her breakfast that you were thinking of leaving. That boy certainly can't keep his mouth shut, it would seem. Half the hotel is buzzing about your decision." She smirked knowingly at him, a look he had seen on her face many times during the last century, and which never failed to piss him off. "Your flair for the dramatic, over-the-top or otherwise, certainly hasn't faded over the years."

Spike snorted derisively at that. "You should talk. I've seen you put Angelus' head through a wall more than a few times when you caught him eyeing some other bint at a few taverns. Not exactly the Dali Bloody Lama, were ya?"

Her smile never faded. Typical Darla, he groaned inwardly, always had to be in control. He'd almost prefer to deal with Angel.

"I've been known to have a temper, true," she relented calmly. "But vampire or not, I've never let my judgement get overruled by my emotions, which is more than I could say for you. A hundred more years of age and experience added to your resume, and yet you're still little more than a pouting child that throws a tantrum when he doesn't get his way. That's a shame. I had hoped that age and a soul would have given you more perspective, maybe even a change of heart, but apparently, I was wrong."

Now his temper was starting to flare. The nerve of her to judge him, all pious and smug! What gave her the right? Well, he knew just how to hit her back where it hurt. "Funny, but it doesn't seem that Resurrection Number Three's worked any great change on you, either," he replied with a nasty grin. "Still get your rocks off from making men jump hoops for you. Judging from the smell of that poncy lookin' ex-Watcher all over you, I'd say you do. Tell me, Ducks—how many times did you make him jump last night?"

He barely had time to relish his dig before a sharp pain erupted in his stomach, courtesy of a powerful blow dealt by Darla's blur-like fist. Groaning as he fell to one knee, dropping his duffel bag haphazardly behind him at his eyes grew watery, a pained Spike looked up to see Darla towering over him, her teasing smile gone, replaced by another look he was intimately familiar with—her dark, menacing scowl.

"That was rude," she stated simply, her tone calm but an undertone with more foreboding laying just beneath her gentle voice. "Mind your manners, child, or the next time you make it personal with me, Angel will be the least of your problems. Got it?"

Grumbling, he clutched his pained stomach as he stared up at Darla. That punch was a lot harder than anything a human could muster. As a matter of fact, he'd almost put that one right up there with Angel's or Buffy's blows on the old Pain-O-Meter. He couldn't help but to wonder what exactly Darla wasn't telling him about her new human makeover, but right now, that wasn't his concern.

"Duly noted, Granny," Spike spat, irritated, as he reached for his bag. "Now kindly sod off, eh? You're in my way."

"Am I?" Darla asked, that cryptic smile of hers returning, her arms folded patiently across her chest. "Because from the way it looks, it seems like you're in your own way."

"Not in the mood for riddles, Mummy Dearest," he warned as he made it to his feet, bag in hand. "Now as much as I might like the shape of your ass these days, would you mind moving it somewhere else? I've got places to be."

"Like where, Spike?" she probed patiently, a perfect golden eyebrow arched in question. "Another dive bar? Out on the open road to nowhere? Off to find comfort between the arms and legs of some random girl, piss away the only remaining time you may have left before The Awakening? Or, I don't know, all of the above?"

"If I bloody well feel like it, then yeah, I reckon I will," a frustrated Spike snapped, his patience with the small blonde woman reaching its end as he turned his back to her. "What the hell's it to ya, anyway? It's not like you've ever been a fan of mine, and trust me, the feeling's more than mutual. What do you care what I do?"

"You're right," Darla nodded, her blue-eyed stare fixed on his back. "I've never thought highly of you, Spike. But at the very least, the one thing I've always respected about you was the idea that you were a fighter, a warrior. You've always loved to be in the middle of the action, even if the cost of it would be your life, even if the odds were stacked overwhelmingly against you. It's what drives you. You being away from a good fight is like a fish being pulled out of water—you couldn't do without it for too long."

"I've sorta had my fill of fighting lately," Spike muttered, the battle between him and Angel the night before playing in his mind's eye.

"Ah, right. I had heard rumors that Angel kicked your butt again last night, though I can't say I'm too surprised the two of you would eventually get at each other's throats," Darla mused as she eyed the large, splotchy bruise on Spike's right cheek, a slow smile spreading across her perfect lips.

Annoyed, Spike whirled on her. "He did NOT kick my butt!" he barked, indignantly.

Darla merely chuckled; Spike's buttons were easier to push after she'd gotten to know him over time. The one button that never failed to get a reaction from him had "Angel" stamped on it in big bold letters. "Oh? Then what's with the shiner, Raging Bull? Don't tell me you walked into a door. Or maybe fell down some stairs?"

If Spike had any circulation, his face would have been beet red at that moment from the rage. "I'll have you know that I had that big oaf dead to rights during the last part of that fight, you know-it-all, infuriating shrew of a woman! Only reason he's not in an urn right now is because Buffy saved his ass again—"

Spike suddenly caught himself. Chuckling, he shook his head. He had come to know Darla's games over time, as well. "Oh…you're good. Nice try, sweetheart, but I know what you're trying to do. And it's not going to work."

"What I'm trying to do is to open your eyes," Darla replied. "Can't you see that you're needed here? That your place is here?"

"Who're you kidding, Darla? You lot don't need me 'round 'ere long as Angel the Great and Powerful is hanging about," Spike groused, though Darla could detect an almost wistful tone in his voice. And she knew where it came from.

In the entire time she had known Spike, his resentment and rivalry with Angel seemed to grow through the years. Even in the best of times within their small coven, she could see the desire in Spike's eyes for independence, the need to break free from under Angelus' shadow and make his own mark. By the same token, she had also seen doubt in Spike, faint hints of it, as to whether or not he could live up to the larger-than-life legend that the Scourge of Europe had woven, if he was even good enough to try. Sensing that, she decided to try another tactic.

"This isn't about Angel right now, Spike. Angel's not the one who Dawn's waiting for to train with right now. Angel's not the one that got Dawn and my son back home safely two nights ago against all odds. That was you . For reasons that are beyond my comprehension, that little girl thinks the world of you. She trusts you. And judging from what I've heard and seen when you're around her, I'd say that the feeling is mutual, am I correct?"

Spike didn't have to answer that. The solemn look his eyes reflected as he looked down and the hint of a smile that briefly flashed on his face at the thought of the bouncy, energetic teenage brunette girl with the big blue eyes answered Darla's question better than any words he could say.

"She's about to go through one of the hardest things she's ever faced, and I can tell you right now, she's scared," Darla said plainly, her cerulean eyes filled with a surprising sincerity that Spike had never seen in them. "She has a power she can barely control and very short time to learn all she can about it if she wants to make it through this alive. She needs you. She needs people she can trust, people who care about her and can help her, protect her, guide her. But you know this."

Her gaze became more poignant as Spike finally looked at her, their eyes meeting. "Just like you know she's not the only one who might need you. Not that Faith will tell you that."

Spike's eyes widened in shock as he took in Darla's words. How could she have known about him and Faith?

His shock amused Darla, who gave him a knowing smile. "What, you think you're the only one who knows how to read people? I've been watching you both. And I could see what's going on between you two from a mile away."

Spike growled as he looked away, a defensive feeling creeping up on him. She might have been hitting close to home on that, but he'd be damned if he was going to discuss Faith or any other matters on his heart with Darla, of all people. "What the hell do you know?"

"I know that she seems to be one of the few people here that appears to see a lot more to you than what meets the eye, though what she sees and why is still beyond me." Her gaze became pointed, as if she was looking right into his mind. "And I know that she also seems like she's put her trust in you. And unless I'm mistaken, she's not exactly the trusting kind…is she?"

Spike looked away, unable to meet her eyes at that. Of all the things that were bothering him most, as much as the idea of Buffy rejecting him hurt, as much as abandoning Dawn ached deep in his long-dead heart, the notion of betraying Faith, betraying her trust, shattering her belief in the idea that he was more than just another monster, that he could be trusted, be counted on, be good…

…that haunted him.

"No. Not exactly." His response was quiet, mirthless.

Her arms folded across her chest, a stern look on her beautiful face. "Yet you'd willingly walk away from all of that? Just because of a…a…pissing contest with Angel that hasn't stopped since the Victorian era?"

Her tone immediately got him on the defensive. "What do you want me to say, woman? Huh? What?"

Off Spike's angry gaze, Darla wearily sighed. Anger and guilt was not going to be enough to sway her wayward, hotheaded great Grandchilde, she could see that now. So instead, she took a leap of faith and decided to test if this soul of his came with a conscience. For without a conscience, there could not be a hero-if that is what those closest to Spike believed he could be, that is.

"That's the thing, Spike. It's not about what you say. It's about what you do," she said patiently, her eyes looking so deeply into his that it was as if she was trying to connect with the very core of his being. "Whether you meant for it to happen or not, there are two girls waiting upstairs for you right now who put their trust in you. And both of them have had their fills of people letting them down. They could sure use a little faith returned for once, wouldn't you say so?"

As she spoke, Darla saw the icy stare of his blue eyes thaw, revealing a glimpse of something beyond the pride, the anger, the arrogance and bluster that made up Spike for much of his existence, and for a moment...she could see a man in there. A man that, she suspected, was still looking for the same thing he sought ever since he drunkenly and tearfully crossed their paths in London all those years ago – a place to belong. She only hoped that her words could still reach that man, if he was still in there.

"All your life, you've been drifting, going from place to place, town to town, city to city, never really belonging to anywhere or anyone. And then you came here. True, this might not have been the situation that you wanted, but if you give it a chance, it might turn out to be what you needed. Dawn adores you, Spike, and Faith...who knows what could happen if you decide to walk through that door? But if you shut it before you even take a look inside, you'll never know. And that's where it's up to you. We can all show you where the door is, but the only one who can walk through it is you. You already know where that other door leads if you want to leave...but aren't you tired of walking through that one? Don't you want to see what else life could have in store for you? Where it could take you? Think it over."

There were no guarantees that his conflicted eyes offered. Nothing definitive Darla could derive from the confusion in Spike's gaze as his brow furrowed in thought. But she had done all she could. The rest was up to him now. It was his choice, she knew that. He did what he wanted to do, always had.

But as she turned to go, she offered him a final piece of advice, something she hoped would help guide him on the right path.

"One last thing—in my experience, it's not the doors that I ended up walking through that I've regretted most; it's the ones I didn't go through. This is a pretty big moment in your life, Spike. Whatever door you decide to go through…make sure you open the one you won't regret."


Hyperion Hotel – Training Room, third floor

Mid-afternoon


For the umpteenth time, Faith looked at her watch. She could see Dawn fidgeting as she sat on a rolled-up mat, eager to get her training underway, could spot Connor looking restlessly at the clock on the wall, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for them to get started.

The dark-haired Slayer paid little mind to them; her eyes and thoughts ping-ponged between the clock and the door. She hadn't had much to hope for in a long time; hope was a sucker's game, she had learned that long ago. She knew better than to put her trust in others before. That way almost always led to disappointment, and Faith had gotten tired of getting her hopes dashed a long time ago.

And yet, deep down, this nagging little part of her that refused to be smothered beneath the massive cloak of doubt and skepticism that she had buried her emotions under long ago kept whispering, kept hoping that this time that this guy would be different. That there was more to Spike than being just another guy who couldn't be counted on, another random dude who bailed on them…on her…when the going got tough.

She cursed herself for feeling her heart momentarily jump in her chest when a peak of blond hair momentarily appeared in the doorway…but revealing Darla, who had come to watch – and, if necessary, partake – in this training session.

At once, Faith felt herself deflate a little, feeling hope starting to leave her little by little.

"Have you started yet?" Darla asked Faith quietly, despite the eyes of both teens in the room on both women.

Faith shook her head. "Not yet. Figured it might be better to wait for all of us."

The hesitant look that the normally confident Darla gave Faith only further dashed her hopes. "I…I think this is all of us."

Faith's eyes fell, turning her head away for a moment as she took that in, and Darla didn't have to be a good read on people to see the disappointment in the young Slayer.

Her eyes softening, Darla tried to offer the raven-locked beauty opposite her some comfort. "Faith…maybe he just needs more time -"

"No, forget it," Faith's brown eyes returned to meet the older woman's, her gaze hardened, determined. "We don't exactly have oodles of time to spare, Darla. If Spike can't see past his issues to take a look at the bigger picture, then screw him. I can throw down with the best of them, and from what I've been hearing, you seem to have a good handle on mojo. We can make do just fine."

"You sure about that?" Darla asked, her gaze probing.

Frowning, Faith let out a resigned sigh. "I guess we're about to find out."

"Is he coming?"

Dawn's voice reminded the older women of the teens in their presences as both The Key and The Miracle Child made their way towards them. Faith

"Is he coming up or not?" Connor groused, eyeing the clock once again. "We've been waiting long enough for that leech. We could have been training by now instead of waiting around doing nothing."

Dawn nudged her boyfriend, frowning. "Be nice, Con. We've been over this."

Off Connor's begrudging sigh, and Darla's hidden smile, Faith stifled a chuckle. After seeing the way Connor had gone rogue during the not-so-Permanent Midnight and the Angelus debacle, she never thought she'd see the crazy little punk behave halfway decently. Yet only a few words from this tiny little brunette with a will almost as strong as her big sister had calmed him down.

Something about Angel's bloodline and those Summers women, she guessed.

"Guys, we've been waiting for like an hour for Spike already," Dawn's voice returned Faith to the present, the teenage girl smiling eagerly. "I really want to see if I can go all Neo with my new powers. So, where is he?"

Faith and Darla exchanged wary, fleeting glances between each other. Dawn caught notice. She was a smart girl, after all, and she had been around The Scooby Gang long enough to know when the "grown-ups" were playing keep away with her when it came to secrets.

Dawn's smile fell, the teen growing more serious. "Guys? Where's Spike?" Off Faith's hesitant glance, Dawn turned her question to her sister's former rival. "Faith?"

Taken aback for a moment at being put on the spot, Faith looked to Darla for help. But judging from the solemn look on the speechless ex-vampire's face, it was clear to Faith that Darla was fresh out of life preservers to throw. Letting out a heavy sigh, Faith turned her eyes back to a waiting and confused Dawn. While Faith knew that this news would break the poor kid's heart, she also knew that there was no use lying about it, either. If Spike didn't want to be here, then there was nothing in the world that could keep him here, that she had sensed about him. And while Dawn wasn't the only one who was going to be hurt by that knowledge, Faith knew that it was time for them to face the truth.

Taking a deep breath, an apologetic look on her face, Faith started to break the news. "About that. Dawn, I…listen…um, it's about..." The troubled look on Dawn's face was enough to break Faith's concentration for a moment. Suck it up, Faith, the Boston-born Slayer mentally chided herself. Quick and clean, like a band-aid. "Dawn, look," she started again. " It's about…you see…Spike's—"

"Late."

The low, male British tone made all eyes whip to the door, and for a moment, Faith's breath left her as she took a look at the source of that voice...a voice she had honestly been ready to give up hope she'd hear again.

There stood Spike, leaning against the door, gave the room a rueful smirk. "Sorry 'bout that."

For a moment, even as she ignored Dawn's excited grin, Connor's rolling eyes and Darla's small, but pleased smile at the sight of him, Faith felt a little stupid staring at the platinum-blond vampire with her mouth dropped open like a fish at feeding time. She couldn't help it, however. It had been a long time since she had learned how to count on others. Even after Angel showed her the way back from her own abyss of misery and self-loathing, she hadn't really been big on trusting others to do right by her. Yet as Spike stood there, all smoldering smile and pensive baby blue eyes, she had to admit, maybe there was something to this whole 'putting faith in others' thing, after all.

Barely able to contain herself, Dawn excitedly bounded up to Spike. "Spike! You made it! For a sec, you had me worried you were gonna bail on us," she chuckled, thinking nothing of her joke. "You hit the snooze on your alarm again, didn't you?"

"Typical," Darla said pointedly at Spike, yet off her small smile, it was clear that Spike was a welcome sight to his beautiful Great Grandsire.

Ignoring that comment, Spike smiled again at Dawn. "Sorry 'bout that, Nibblet. But you know what they say…"

At that, his eyes met Faith's, his next words aimed more at her than anyone else, words that brought a smile from Faith that she couldn't fight down.

"Better late than never."


The first round of training went slightly better than expected.

Dawn wasn't exactly stumbling over herself with the basics of fighting, the "adults" noticed, and the girl knew how to throw a decent punch and a good, hard kick.

But she still needed a lot of work when it came to defense, something Faith was especially hard on her for, throwing Dawn hard during their sparing sessions or putting a little more sting in her kicks when they connected with the teen's torso – Dawn yelping in pain each time – despite the protests from Connor and Spike. Surprisingly, Darla had backed up the dark-haired Slayer on that – "She can't be babied if she's going to fight in the field, boys. She's going to have to pick up the pace or she'll never get to a level where she can control her powers," she argued – and the training continued at a rigorous pace.

Faith had to give the kid credit, though. Dawn took it like a champ, not complaining as often as Faith expected her to and learning the fighting stances and limited techniques of the lesson rather quickly. Spike took to teaching her offensive maneuvers, willing to take the punishment of Dawn's newfound super strength without much complaint. Darla was there to help the teenage girl control her energy usage, a lesson they were going to get to post-sparring.

As Faith watched Connor and Dawn sparring with quarterstaffs, she couldn't help but to turn her eyes to Spike, who smiled as Dawn caught her beau offguard with a surprising spin move that just barely missed The Destroyer's head, the vampire shouting encouragement to the youngest Summers girl. "That's it, Bite-Sized, take the bugger's friggin' block off! Press your advantage!"

Chuckling, she felt a smile of her own spread across her dark red lips. "I'd say she's got this under control, Blue Eyes. Little Dawnie came to play big time today."

"I'd expect nothing less from her," Spike returned the smile like a proud papa.

"Well, goes to show ya…people can surprise you sometimes," Faith said, her smile never leaving, but her words clearly having more meaning behind them than just Dawn's progress.

For a moment, Spike said nothing, just staring back at Faith with a slightly dimmed smile, his eyes all pensive and atypically serious. "I guess they can."

The momentary silence between them, filled with the clanging and banging of Dawn's and Connor's staffs angrily clashing against each other, stretched longer than either one was really comfortable with.

"So, uh…you ended up staying," Faith broke the silence, looking away for a moment.

Spike shrugged. "Yeah. Reckon I did."

"Why?" Off his questioning stare, Faith clarified. "Not that I'm not glad that you're here, because I am. But last I saw you, you were ready to punch your ticket to 'Anywhere-But-Here's-ville.' Kinda got a girl ready to brace for the worst."

"And you want to know what changed my mind, right, luv?" Spike ventured.

Faith shrugged. "Well, it would help clear some things up."

Releasing a needless sigh, Spike turned a pensive stare towards the dueling teens in front of him. It hadn't been an easy decision for him to come to, that was for sure.

"Had a lot of people talking to me about the upside of stickin' 'round here. You, Buffy, even Mummy Dearest over there," he motioned towards Darla, who stood on the opposite side of the room observing her son and Dawn sparring. "Can't really point to one thing that stuck, though. But in the end…I guess it came down to this. All my life, I've never gotten attached to anything. Dru, me mum, lately, Buffy…the things I ended up loving have a funny way of kickin' me in the bollocks and leavin' me face down in the dirt with me ass up in the air, y'know?"

Faith nodded, her own heartbreaks of the past flickering before her eyes. "I can relate."

Off the hidden pain that still peaks through in her dark brown eyes underneath that Tough Girl image she's all but perfected, Spike could tell that she was telling the truth on that. "Yeah. Used to be I had a simple solution to solve all that nonsense…leave. Pack light, jacket, couple smokes for the road, aftershave, gas up the bike and I'd be good to go. Simple way to live. Go where the grass is greener, leave all my cares miles behind me, find the next thrill. It was easy. Hell, it was fun."

He looked down at the spot at the floor between his boots as he mused on hundreds of times over his long life that he had hit the road. "It would have been easy to do now. It's no secret that me an' Angel are never gonna be best mates. And Buffy…" he sighed in resignation. "She made her choice. Should have probably just kicked the board over and started a new game somewhere else. Probably gonna wish I did later, I'll bet. But here's the thing. Somewhere between the insults and backhands and getting treated like a puppy with mange, those damn Scoobies started to grow on me, y'know? Some more than others."

His eyes trail to Dawn, who was laughing as she tripped Connor when he wasn't looking, only for the boy to grab hold of her last minute and send them tumbling over each other in a tangle of limbs and giggles.

"That kid's smart. Kinda scary how smart she is. But she's just dumb enough to think that a little hocus pocus and some work on her right cross could make a difference in what's coming. War. Not a fight, not a scrap where you trade a few hands and stake the bad guys and waltz off into the moonlight. I'm talking about shit. The real shit. War, it's ugly, and raw and bloody and full of pain, blood and death. But she thinks she can make a difference. She's ready to get down into the shit and go until she drops. It's important to her. And what's happening here is important. So I figure that if she's ready to risk her life for it…least I can do is risk my own hide protecting her. The First is bringing out the big guns. Kiddie gloves are off now. Things are gonna get real and they're gonna get ugly."

He looked at Faith with an ancient gaze, one speaking of battle scars and more fights than he can remember. The haunted, battle-hardened eyes of a warrior, like the Huns and the Spartans. Hardest of the hardcore, the ass-kickers. The same gaze Faith saw every time she looked into Angel's eyes.

His grave, solemn voice was more of a promise than a statement. "And that's where I live. That's where I'm gonna be."

Faith took that in, dark brown eyes clouded in thought. While part of her was glad, even relieved, that Spike decided to stay, another part of her shivered at his foreboding words. He was right, she knew that. Something big was on the horizon, something big, bad and nasty. Nastier than anything she'd ever been involved with. And something in her gut told her there was a good chance she might not walk away from this one, or at least, not the same, if she was lucky. But if this was going to be her last rodeo, she'd make sure she'd go down in a blaze of glory.

"Well, at least you won't be down there alone," she said simply, but her eyes making a quiet vow on that.

Off that, Spike offered a faint grin. "Well, hey…what fun's the End of the World without a few friends to bring along in front of the campfire?"

Faith couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips, which drew a small laugh from Spike, both hardened warriors sharing a light moment in between the training and the madness that overtook their lives.

Spike's smile dimmed slightly, but never faded as he met her gaze. "Thanks, by the way. For the pep talk last night. Was in a bad way, but you got me to stick 'round this place."

"Well, couldn't let you do anything stupid. Besides, there's too much estrogen 'round here. Gotta keep the stud-to-chick ration in this place up to par, know what I'm sayin'?" Faith drawled, with a wink.

His laugh was a low rumble in his chest. "Well, then, when this is all over, maybe I can show you the benefits of that ratio."

Her smile faded, Faith shaking her head. "I'm not gonna sleep with you, Spike."

A laugh mixed with a hint of frustration let loose from Spike's lips. "Not what I meant, pet. I meant I'd like another shot at Date Number Two, see if we can pick up where we left off on that dance floor."

"All the same," Faith said. "Look…I'm glad you're sticking around. Really, I am. We need you. Dawn's gonna need you. And I…" She paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "Let's just say I'll rest a lot better with you watching my back. But you're still getting past this thing with Buffy, and I don't-"

"Forget about Buffy, forget about Angel, forget all that shit," Spike said earnestly, his gaze never wavering as he met Faith's conflicted mocha-hued irises. "Faith, you can't deny that there's something between us. I know I can't. Lord knows I've tried. I've barely known you for a week and I know it sounds crazy, but there's something there, something…powerful. Something real. It wasn't something I wanted, not something I expected, but maybe…maybe it's something I need. And I think we owe it to each other to find out."

He talked a good game, Faith gave him that. Even knowing about all his baggage and the specter of Buffy looming over both of them, knowing that he was just as messed up as she was and there were a thousand and one reasons why they shouldn't consider intertwining their lives and their hearts together…here she was, with a flicker of something in her heart telling her that maybe it was worth the risk.

Still, Faith was ever a cautious soul when it came to her heart, a lesson she had learned from getting it broken by one too many people. So she knew that if this was going to have any shot of working, she had to do it her way. Slowly, she turned her gaze back to Spike, whose eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness that she had never seen in him around her despite his attempt to cover it up. Stifling a smile, she laid out her terms.

"Dinner. Tonight. I pick the place, the bill's on you," she said calmly, but with a no-nonsense tone to her voice. "Play it cool, I might know a dance hall where we can get in for free. Sex is off the table, you haven't earned that yet. All goes well, you earn yourself a second date. If that goes well, it's a third date. Anything after that…well, we'll just play it by ear. And I have to stress that these terms are very much non-negotiable. If that's not good enough for you, tough shit. Maybe we can stay friends. But if you think you can handle that…meet me in the lobby at eight o'clock tonight. Deal?"

Spike couldn't deny that he was intrigued. Faith was a challenge, that much was for sure. Tough, strong, had a little dark in her, which he always found hot. But there was also a light within that dark, he could see it in her eyes sometimes. There was a side of her that wanted to be loved and to love, something that longed to connect with another being. He knew what that was like, too. While Spike wasn't much for playing by other people's rules, he was always a sucker for things that made him curious. And whatever this heat, this vibe, this…energy…that was thriving and thrumming between both of them, he was dying to figure out just how deep it ran.

A small, quirked smirk spread on his face. "How's a guy gonna argue with an offer like that? I'll see you at eight."

Surprised, Faith felt a small laugh come up from her lips as the two chuckled at some invisible joke neither one had made or spoken aloud. As bleak as things seemed, for once, Faith couldn't help but to think that things might actually start going her way for a change…

"Guys!"

The shout came from Andrew as he came panting into the room, clearly out of breath. The sight was enough to make Dawn and Connor cease their training, draw Darla's head turning towards him in alarm and break Spike and Faith out of their intimate moment, all of them drawing closer to the gangly sci-fi enthusiast.

"Andrew, what is it?" Dawn asked, concerned.

"Something wrong?" Connor asked, his eyes growing alert as he took a peak towards the entrance for signs of any trouble.

"Geez, Spanky, spit it out, will ya?" Spike impatiently demanded.

"Give him a minute, he's out of breath," Darla said, motioning for the group to back up a step to avoid crowding the boy.

Off Andrew's pants, Faith shook her head. "Andy, take a second. Deep breaths. You look like you ran down a few…well, in your case, one whole flight of stairs. What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, Andrew, looking paler than Faith or Dawn could recall seeing him, uttered the next few words that drew their concern. "It's on the news. Everyone's in the lobby. I think you guys should take a look at this."


Hyperion Hotel – Lobby

15 minutes later - Nightfall


"…and authorities are still with no answers as to the cause of this massive explosion in Angeles National Forest near a campground area that's left 11 people dead, 21 injured and left a significant amount of damage to the surrounding area…"

All eyes were turned to the television in the lobby as the large contingent of Scoobies, Angel Investigations, Potential Slayers and Kate's crew watched.

It was Willow who caught the news first after breakfast. But it wasn't the carnage or the deaths that caught her eye about this seemingly random catastrophe in a forest just a few miles outside the L.A. County area. It was a message written, burned, into the ground of the footage, large enough to be visible by news choppers that surrounded the area, transmitted for all the world to see:

"W –

Ready to play?

A"

"Amy."

The name fell off Willow's lips bitterly, her light green eyes solemn, lips drawn into a thin, grim line. There was no doubt in the witch's mind of who the message was intended for, or who was behind that message. Next to her, Oz gently squeezed her hand in a show of support. A jealous Kennedy, to the left of the witch, seethed, yet placed her hand possessively around Willow's waist, the redhead too lost in her own thoughts to notice.

"Girl has a flair for subtlety, doesn't she?" Xander quipped half-heartedly.

"Friend of yours?" Angel quietly asked the group.

"Friend-turned-foe is more like it," Buffy replied, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the screen. "Amy Madison. Old high school classmate, born a witch. Got turned into a rat for three years, got turned back into a human, and apparently, turned into a whack job."

"How strong is she?" Cordelia asked, looking at Willow specifically.

"Last time I saw her, she was as almost as strong as I was. She went off the grid, though, hard to tell how much she's improved since then," Willow replied, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"Looks like she wants to find out," Faith grimly stated. "She's thrown down the punk card. She's calling you out, Red."

At that, Willow's face tightened with resolve. "Well, time to make her wish come true. I'm going after her." At that, she broke from the group and headed to a nearby table next to the weapons cabinet, where she opened the small chest of magical items on top and started throwing items into a nearby duffel bag.

"Whoa, whoa…Willow, take it easy," Oz pleaded softly. "We don't know anything about what Amy's planning or where she is or if she's even alone. Taking off for a throwdown with her without knowing all that? Not the best plan."

Willow, determined, was unswayed by the werewolf's argument. "Oz, the last time Amy was around, she put a hex on me that turned me into the misogynistic asswipe that shot Tara to death in front of me and tried to murder my best friend. She turned me into that vile, disgusting…thing…that ripped my whole world apart." Her eyes narrowed in anger. "That's not something I'm going to let go."

"Willow, this doesn't look like a good idea," Buffy argued, the Slayer feeling unsettled about the entire situation. "Something about this feels wrong."

"She might have a point," Anya said frankly. "I mean, I can't help think about the timing here. The First is getting ready to make its power play, Jasmine is still missing and now Amy, a powerful witch in her own right, conveniently shows up wanting to hold a smackdown? This has 'Trap' written all over it with flashing neon lights. The Miami Vice kind."

"Gotta say, Will, I'm starting to side with Ahn and Buff on that one," a concerned Xander added. "Hate to be all Admiral Ackbar here, but this is practically screaming 'It's a Trap!' And you're not exactly at 100 percent when it comes to the mojo yet. What happens if Amy's there and she pushes you to the edge? Can you beat her without going all Dark Side again?"

"I-I-I don't...I don't care," a frustrated Willow ground out, her eyes briefly flickering onyx before returning to their normal sea green hue. "If this really was Amy, then she's crossed the line. She's willing to kill innocent people to draw me out, and she'll damn sure kill more the longer I wait. I can't let that sit on my conscience. If there's any chance I have to stop her, I have to take it."

Buffy's concerned green eyes drifted to a pensive Angel's brown orbs as they mulled the options. Angel agreed with Buffy on the situation not sitting well. It was too convenient for this Amy to come out of hiding while they were knee deep in Apocalypse Season. This felt very likely to be a trap. Yet, innocent blood had already been spilled and a rogue witch was too dangerous to be left unchecked.

"Okay, you're right. She has to be stopped. But at least take backup with you," Angel insisted. "Strength in numbers would help."

"I'll go," Buffy said with authority, moving to grab a sword from the weapons cabinet, only for Willow to grab her hand.

"No. You're needed here, Buffy. You and Angel stand a better chance defending the Keystone together than apart," the witch reasoned.

Buffy began to protest, not liking the idea of her best friend facing that nutjob Amy without Slayer muscle. "But-"

"It's okay, B," Faith cut in, walking over and putting a hand on Willow's shoulder. "I can pinch hit."

Buffy frowned at that, her narrowed gaze meeting the challenging spark in Faith's eyes. Things were very much on the rocks between both Slayers after the night before, but Buffy knew that her options were limited. Willow had a point, the older Slayer should be guarding the one object they needed to keep away from The First at all costs. And besides, tense as things were between her and Faith, maybe a little distance between them for the moment would do them both good.

Tiredly, Buffy sighed in concession. "Okay, fine. Faith, you can go."

Immediately, Spike looked alarmed as he looked at Faith. "What? Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute, pet-"

"Hey, that's the advantage of us having two of everything here. We have Slayers to spare," Faith reminded Spike. "Besides, I believe I said I pick the place tonight. You in?"

Astounded for a moment, Spike had to shake his head and chuckle. This Slayer was really something else. "Alright, Doe Eyes, I guess it's a date."

Date? Buffy raised her eyebrow at that.

She could see that Angel looked almost as alarmed at the word – and the sight of Spike and Faith looking so chummy – as she did. Yet at the sight of Spike smiling, looking far more content, happier than she had seen him last night…or many other nights before…something in her conceded that Spike had to find his own path now, his own road to happiness. One that didn't include the twisted obsession he once had for her. She knew she had to let him go, so he could find someone that made him as happy as Angel made her…even if it was Faith, she groused inwardly.

"Okay, Faith, Spike, I guess you're it," she sighed. "Keep Willow safe, watch each other's backs."

"I'll add one more back to that," Oz spoke up, walking towards Willow. "You're not going into this alone. I'm coming with you."

At that, Kennedy, glaring, darted in front of Willow, shoving Oz back brusquely. "The hell with that, Shag Bag! I'm going, Willow doesn't need you tagging along unless you plan on serenading Amy into submission with your little guitar. Or, I don't know, turning into a raging animal that would just as soon turn us all into chew toys."

"I can speak for myself, Kennedy," Willow coldly replied, her response causing a wide-eyed Kennedy to pause. Willow softened her glance as she looked back at Oz. "You sure about this? It could get ugly."

"For you? I could do ugly for a night," Oz smiled.

The witch and werewolf exchanged small smiles for a moment. Willow had to admit, it would be nice to have Oz along for the ride. He was a soothing presence to her, always was. And he might be able to calm her down if she went too close to the edge. "Okay, but no biting," the redhead smiled teasingly at Oz.

"No promises," he winked, not even bothering to glance towards a scowling Kennedy, who gnashed her teeth at the sight of her girlfriend and the werewolf looking so effortlessly comfortable with each other.

The scouting team assembled, Buffy looked to Angel, who seemed pleased with the assembly chosen to tackle this threat. Sighing, Buffy gave her nod of approval. "Okay. Go. Keep your cell phones on, call at the first sign of trouble. Hurry back."

Willow nodded as Oz, Faith, Spike and Kennedy clustered together. "Should be a snap." Her eyes growing into shining dark pools, the redhead's hands crackled with energy. "Ianuae Magicae!"

In a flash of purple light and lightning, the heroes were there one moment…and gone the next.

Buffy sighed wearily, her hand tiredly rubbing her eyes. This apocalypse kept getting messier and messier. "Great. So, aside from Jasmine still being unaccounted for and the First still out there, Whistler hasn't come back yet, Robin's gone, Sunnydale's own answer to the Wicked Witch of the West is out there whipping up wacky, crazy homicidal fun time and we're down our magical big gun, three highly trained fighters and our werewolf. Because Lord knows we didn't have enough on our plate."

Sympathetically, Angel walked over placing a hand on Buffy's small shoulders. It never failed, how such a simple touch from him managed to both soothe her and excite her at the same time.

"They'll be alright, Buffy," Angel assured her gently. "Willow's smart, and Faith can handle herself in a fight…even if she does have to babysit Spike." Off her chuckle, he smiled. "They'll be fine. At the very least, this Amy thing seems to be manageable. And from the looks of things, it doesn't look like they're be any more big surprises."

Suddenly, the rapidly approaching smell of heated air and sulfur filled his nose. It was a smell Angel knew all too well…

Oh, no…

"GET DOWN!" he shouted, grabbing Buffy and throwing himself on top of her as he knocked her away from the door.

Not a few moments sooner did the front door of the Hyperion Hotel explode in a mess of fire, mortar and debris, sending everyone for cover.

Xander immediately grabbed Cordelia and both went sprawling away from the blast. Gunn threw himself over Fred's small, shaking form as he knocked her back from the blast. Wesley shielded a surprised Darla behind him while Lindsey knocked back one of the Potentials from a piece of flying debris. Kate instinctively drew her pistol as she barked for her young crew members to fall back. Connor grabbed a surprised Dawn and pulled her behind a nearby table, shielding them from the blast as Lorne and Giles, pulling Anya and Andrew away from the blast, shouted for the rest of the screaming, panicked Potentials to take cover.

Shaken and coughing as the dust began to clear, an aching, wincing Buffy and a bruised, stunned Angel looked up in shock the source of the blast…

…The Beast. Growling, that terrifying smile filled with sharp, jagged teeth, arms extended as it stood in an attack position. Around it, dozens upon dozens of Bringers, armed with ceremonial knives, surrounded him as they flooded the hotel's entrance.

With little warning, the flood of hooded, armed figures parted to reveal an even bigger shock to the already reeling Chosen One and Champion…

…the form of Jasmine. Her outstretched right hand crackling in bright red energy, an arrogant and cruel smile on her otherwise perfectly healed, lovely face.

"Knock, knock," she drawled, her voice cold, dripping with malice.

Taking in two shaky, deep breaths as she made it to her feet, a surprised Buffy looked to Angel, who was just as shocked as he slowly staggered back up.

"Angel?"

"Yeah?" he rasped out, wincing as he clutched his almost-healed ribs.

As she beheld the sinister, madly-smiling Power and small army of darkness at her beck and call chomping at the bit for a massacre, Buffy couldn't help but to shake her head in dismay as she offered one last bit of advice to Angel.

"You have got to stop saying that."


TBC


Next: As Buffy, Angel and their friends fight for their lives in L.A., Willow faces an old rival elsewhere. But even with Oz, Faith and Spike beside her, it might not be enough as Amy reveals her full hand. Can our heroes survive?


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Jean-theGuardian