Chapter Two

“Faith, what the bleedin’ hell are you bints doin’ here?” Spike shouted as he was fighting two rank smelling demons. Sometimes vamp smell could be a pain in the arse. “S’not that I’m not thrilled at seeing you Rogue, but it’s that ya brought Tender Roni and the recently released psychotic slayer who hacked off my hands with you. T’was nice of ya to ‘pop’ in to visit with your lovely toys though.”

“It’s five by five, Studly…but let’s bash now, chat later.” Faith said as she went off somewhere down the alley.

“Yeah, Faith, what are you doing here.” Gunn hollered after her and panted, “Who’s the fine honey with the dreads?”

“Honey, never call me honey, cue ball. Name’s Rona. Duck.” Rona ordered as she swung her sword over Gunn’s head.

Rona glanced over at Spike, “Hey Billy boy, I heard what you called me,” smiling, “I missed you too. Don’t die again.” Rona plunged back into the fray.

Spike located Angel. He did not know whether Peaches had seen their unexpected backup arrive. Angel had climbed up the fire escape to the top of the building and looked as if he was preparing to dive onto the approaching dragon. He did have to have all the fun, didn’t he.

Spike’s forearms screamed at him to flee. He turned to see that Dana had approached him from behind. She had killed five demons he had not seen.

In the short time the slayer trio had arrived, Dana had already become the most bloodied but not with her own. Bollocks if she wasn’t a vision right out of “Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” Blood covered her hair that was drawn into two pigtails, her ‘Hello Kitty’ t-shirt, jeans and pink sneakers. It was the pink sneakers that probably wigged him the most. The sneakers had those little friendship pins attached to the shoelaces he remembered seeing popular in the Eighties. As if their last little dance didn’t prove the lass had gone daft in the melon, the sight of her decked out like some anime babe on LSD sealed the deal.

“Hello, Luv, fancy seeing you again,” he said cautiously holding the katana in a non-threatening position, but still having it at the ready.

“Spike…I know now it wasn’t you. Sorry I cut off your hands. I know you’re not a bad man anymore. I help you now,” she said drawing out the sentences much as she had before, like a little child.

Dana then leaped at Spike grabbing him by his duster. She stopped, smiled and then squeezed him in a quick hug only to then run off giggling.

Spike stood stock-still. The psychotic little chit just hugged him. What was his unlife coming to? Had he been shifted to an alternate universe? He remembered Red talking about the world where the Great-Great Grand Dolt had made both her and the Whelp vamps. What poor taste, a vamped Whelp…he barely stood him in Sunny-D…how could he have fared with the possibility of an eternity with that brain trust?

He needed to stop his musings and get back to the smash and bash. He would figure this all out later.

~ ~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later.

Spike could only roll his eyes. Great, now the Poofter had gone and done it.

“Good show, Peaches…or should I just call you Angel the Dragon Slayer now. I tell you it brings a tear to the eye, it does,” Spike teased over the fray.

“Shut up, Spike. My one dragon, for how many hundreds for you…don’t tell me. I know you’re keeping count.”

“Well, yeah.”

Spike had re-accessed their situation. Hundreds of the thousands had been slaughtered. Angel had downed the dragon. Everyone still was on his or her feet more or less.

Angel had acquired an axe somehow and was helping a demon shed those unwanted stomach pounds. Gunn had been rushed to a side alley by Tender who was using her Hellmouth learned medic skills to bandage the boy, while keeping any of those too interested in, turning Charlie into a meal, sorry to have looked his way. Psycho was happily slicing and dicing and singing her way through the melee. Blue Thunder was living up to the name coined by Gunn, by leaving destruction in her wake. Rogue was a little worse for wear but holding her own, her leather jacket had seen better days though.

Spike motioned to Angel looking over at Faith. Angel nodded. They both fought their way over to Faith helping her get rid of some hulky stone-like creatures. Spike noticed that both Angel and Faith looked like they had dealt with their kind before.

“Spike, try to tear out a piece of their skin…it’s the only thing that kills them,” Angel growled.

“Right then. Ok Mr. Rocky Horror, how bout giving me a little chip off the ol’ block.”

Angel groaned, “Spike, you have got to be kidding me with that one.”

Faith just smirked, “Gotta say, damn, Bleachy I missed you. No one appreciates my catch phrases. I’ve been trying out a few in honor of your unpassing.”

~~~~~
Ten minutes later.

The battle still raged on. Spike had, by now, lost count of his kills. Not that it mattered. They still seemed to keep coming. Even he had started to tire.

When Faith had asked Angel about Wes, Faith seemed to gain some second wind upon learning of his demise. He had heard of her homicidal tendencies, but had never seen them in action. Bluebell had sensed Faithy’s incredible pain for Wes and begun to fight by her side.

At first, Spike noticed Faith had to overcome her initial shock of Blue’s appearance. Illyria morphed briefly into Fred and back again, so Faith would not attack her by accident.

“What the hell happened to you Fred?” Faith asked.

“Winfred Burkle or Fred is no longer. Fred as she was called is the shell in which I have been sentenced to live out my existence. Wesley loved Fred. Wesley was helping me learn to live in this world despite how I entered it. I feel grief for him like you. More violence must be shed for him. My wrath is not yet complete,” explained Illyria.

“For Wes,” Faith whispered and followed Big Blue slaughtering tens of hundreds in their vengeance.

~~~~~
Five minutes later.

Spike’s patience was wearing thin. Dana had been fighting by his side, humming some vanilla pop princess’ song that was making him want to just let the hulking purple lion-faced demon have at her. “Shut it you silly bint,” he growled.

“Music helps me. My Watcher told me you liked her songs. To sing them to you when I saw you. My apologies,” she said.

Dreading he knew the answer, he ventured, “Who’s your Watcher, little one?”

“The great Xander,” she beamed proudly.

Spike thanked whatever powers in the universe that were responsible for his lack of humanity at that moment, for he would have surely keeled over dead from that declaration. Bloody Xander the Great, my arse.

“Well, Pinky, lay off that rot. Now you can hum some White Stripes if ya’ like, that’d be alright.”
~~~~~

Twenty minutes later.

Spike sensed it before he realized what had happened. Then he heard Charlie cry out from the alley and Faith screaming. Something had happened to Peaches. Something bad.

He asked Blue to watch over Dana. He had already begun to overlook their previous dalliance. Yes, Pinky was starting to grow on him. It had to be the pigtails.

He rushed over to where it appeared Faith was vomiting. That wasn’t right. Rogue never got sick on a mission. She looked up at Spike with tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t get to him, Spike.”

Rona had used her jacket as a pillow under Angel’s head. Gunn was crying; his bandages peppered with bloodstains. Angel looked like he had been put upon a rack and then gored. Rona looked up at him with questioning eyes.

Guilt washed over his soul. He had lost track of Angel in the brouhaha. Angel had been off somewhere northwest of him, out of the alley and into the street. Some nasties had torn off his arms at the sockets and used something large to stick through his middle. Angel was bleeding too much to survive these wounds, despite Roni’s expert bandaging. The bleeding wasn’t stopping.

“Got ya with Holy water?” Spike asked softly. Angel nodded grimacing in pain.

Behind him, someone landed heavily on the pavement. That scent. Damn. He was not supposed to be here.

“Father?”

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A.N much thanks to my beta alwaysjbj