XV

“Pipa, answer me!”

“They’re here, Buffy!” Pipa screeched. “There are fires everywhere! Buffy, I’m sorry. I… I have to go!”

“Shit!”

“Don’t you panic too, Slayer!”

“Spike!”

“Buffy, we’re almost there, love. How many Slayers have you got at headquarters?”

“Uh…”

“Slayer!”

“Twenty.” He could hear her heart beating frantically in her chest. “Eight that live at Trimmold Street and a dozen that live around the city. But they should all be there now.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of Slayers, pet.”

She didn’t answer him. He hated that he couldn’t see her face.

“And the Dragvloks? How many of them are left, and out for blood?”

“Uh…” 

“Think, Buffy.”

He heard her exhale to settle herself. “Less than thirty.”

“No worries, then. You and me just cut down five of ‘em. Add to the Slayerettes, you, me…” Spike paused. “… and Angel-”

“You’re saying we’ll be alright.” 

“Of course we will.” 

Spike could hear her heart beat slow down, but her voice still wavered when she spoke. “Spike, two of my best Slayers couldn’t handle one Dragvlok last night.”

Spike resisted a sigh. She had a bloody good point there. “Yeah, well… maybe they had a bad night, love. And anyway, we can take down a handful a piece, you and me.”

She didn’t answer him.

“We’re gonna win, Buffy.” 

“I know,” she declared solemnly. 

“Then wh-“

“But at what cost…” It wasn’t really a question.


* * * *

“Guys!” Pipa shouted over her shoulder. “We need blankets to smother these fires!”

Maria, Rachel and Stevie raced upstairs to their sleeping quarters while Gina, Pipa and Sonny continued hauling a large area rug to smother the fire at the front door.

Pipa looked at the Slayers who had formed two water trains to other fires. “Betty. Sally. How’s it going?” 

Betty gave her a thumbs up with one hand, as she covered a cough with the other. Betty was at the front of a line of Indies who were hauling water from the kitchen into the southeast corner of the large room. Sally and Carla were coordinating a second water train to the fire in the centre of the room.

Sally was less positive. “Whose idea was it to pick such flammable furniture?!”

“Shit, Pip.” Gina looked on with dismay as the front entrance fire lit the area rug into flames. “We just gave it kindling.”

“We need a third water train, ladies!” Sonny bellowed behind her. 

The next moment, several of the Indies returned from the weapons room — Lisa leading the group — with swords, axes and cross bows. 

“What the hell are you doin'?” Lisa yelled towards the Pipa and the others at the front door.

“Tryin’ to save our motha fuckin’ house!” Gina exclaimed. “Care to help?!”

“There’s no time for that!” Lisa challenged. “We know who’s out there, and sooner or later, we’re gonna to have to go out there and fight them!”

Sonny turned to face Lisa. “You think we’re afraid to do that?!” 

Lisa raised an eyebrow and leaned her arms on the handle of her sword. “Wasn’t that you lying on your back, whimpering, not an hour ago?”

“Lisa, you are so god damn lucky there’s a war on right now,” Gina answered, her voice low. 

The Indie rolled her eyes and raised an arm up in dismay. “We’re wasting time in here! This smoke will kill us before the fire does! We need to be out there ending this!”

“You idiot!” Sonny spat. “Don’t you realize that’s what they want us to do?”

“Exactly!” Pipa added. “Like Buffy always says. You don’t fight when the demon has the advantage. You fight on your own terms!”

Lisa didn’t look convinced. Gina was gonna have to spell the shit out for her. “Lisa-“ Gina paused to cough through the thickening smoke. “If we draw them into the warehouse, then we’ve got the advan-“

Gina looked up to find Angel suddenly leaping down impressively from the top floor. 

Every Slayer in the room stopped their efforts and looked to him. He was eerily calm when he spoke. “There are twenty-odd Dragvloks surrounding the building.”

“Oh my god!” 

“No!”

“How many?!”

“Shit!”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?!”

“Quiet!” Pipa shouted across the room. “Angel, what else did you see?”

“I only got a peek through the upstairs windows. Most of them are at the rear of the building, by the back entrance, waiting for you to flee. Only four are guarding the front entrance, in case you manage to get past the fire there.”

“So the front is our way out,” Gina declared, eyeing Lisa with disdain. “We kill the ones at the front, and we can attack the others from behind.” Gina stopped to cough and to pull the neck of her shirt over her mouth. “That way we can sandwich the fuckers between Slayers on the outside and Slayers on the inside.” 

Then we need this front entrance fire out now,” Sonny insisted. 

The next moment, Maria, Stevie and Rachel were sprinting back downstairs with their arms full of blankets. 

“Here!” Maria exclaimed.

“Betty! Vicki! Bring some water over here so we can wet these blankets!” Pipa ordered.

The Indies rushed over with buckets and began soaking the blankets before helping the others throw them over the blaze that was blocking their exit.

“We’ll get more!” Maria shouted behind her, as she dragged Rachel back upstairs.

“Everyone else, keep working on the other fires!” Pipa commanded.

“I’ll get more weapons,” Angel said to no one in particular, as he turned to head for the weapons room.

“What about Buffy, Pip?”

“Oh God, Gina. We should tell her we’re surrounded.”

“Yeah, but not just that. If she and Spike took down five on their own, they could probably do some damage to the Dragvloks out front.”

Pipa’s face brightened immediately. “I’ll call her back now.”


* * * *


“Hate to be a pest, Slayer, but how far-“

“Buffy?”

“Pipa!” Buffy responded with relief. “Thank god! What’s going on?”

Pipa’s voice was calmer this time, but no les urgent. “There are more than twenty Dragvloks surrounding the building — four blocking the front door and the rest at the back. They’ve torched the front entrance to force us out through the back.”

“That’s exactly what they did at my house!”

“And it didn’t work, love,” Spike countered.

Buffy exhaled forcefully. “Spike’s right. We beat them once. We’ll do it again. So what’s the plan, Pipa?”

Pipa’s coughing pierced the quiet of the car. “We’re gonna try to put out the fires to draw them in — or, at least try to put out the front door fire, so we can kill the few guards there and attack from behind.”

“Good plan. Where do you want us?”

“Definitely the front,” she managed between coughs. “If you can take out the guards there, then we’ve got an easier way out and can attack at full strength.”

“We’re on it. We’ll be there any minute.”

“Gotta go, Buffy.”

“Wait!” Spike shouted from under cover.

“What?” Buffy asked anxiously.

“Tell her to call the fire department.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it, Slayer.”

“Pipa, Spike says to call the fire department.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay. Gotta go!”

“I can see the smoke in the distance, Spike.”

“We’re there?”

“Just about.”

“Go slow, Slayer. Don’t make it obvious we’re headed there.”

“Spike, the warehouse is in the worst part of town. The neighbourhood is practically abandoned. There aren’t a lot of cars driving by to blend in with!”

“Where’s the sun, Slayer?”

“Still high.”

“Bollocks.” 

“Spike, I see them! We’re only two blocks away. Pipa was right. There’s only four out front. We can take them easily.”

“Pet, how-“

“You, me and Queenie, Spike.” He could hear a touch of playfulness in her voice.

“You gonna run them over with the bread box?”

“She’s tougher than she looks.”

“She’s not the only one, pet.” Spike couldn’t help but smile. “Just buckle up.”

“Already buckled. Okay, so here’s the plan. I’ll drive right past the warehouse as if I’m not going there, and then make a sharp turn left — you know, like 180 degrees — on to the pavement. And then we’ll mow the bastards down like bowling pins!”

“You don’t mow bowling pins, pet.”

“You know what I mean!”

Spike felt Queenie slow to an inconspicuous speed, before suddenly turning left, going over a hump and speeding up with a screech of her tires.

THUMP! 

“Fuck!” Spike was flying head first towards the dashboard. 

“Spike, you’re supposed to be wearing a seat-“

THUMP! THUMP! 

“Bloody hell!” 

“That’s three!” Buffy shouted with glee. “Shit! The fourth one is trying to run! We gotta get him before he warns the others!”

Spike felt Queenie make a sharp turn right.

THUMP!

“Yes!”

“We got ‘em?” Spike gritted out, as he settled back into his seat, rubbing his head. 

“Yup. For the moment, anyway. They’re dazed, but not dead. I’m swinging back to the front entrance. You get out of the car and get your ass into the warehouse, and I’ll finish these four.”

Spike heard the car door open and stuck an arm out from under his blanket to stop her.

“Ssss!” He withdrew his arm instantly when he felt it burn.

“What’s wrong?” He heard her grab a weapon from the back seat.

“Be careful, love.”

Buffy paused. “I will.” She paused again. “If you will.”

God, he wished he could see her. “Buffy, I-“

“Oof!”

“Buffy!’”

The cardinal sounds of a good brawl could be heard outside then, as Buffy was no doubt battling all four. 

Spike hated that he could do nothing about it. 


* * * *


Maria came running down the stairs with more blankets, Rachel close behind her. 

“She’s here! Guys! Buffy’s here!” 

“Where?” Gina asked.

“Out front! She just ran over four Dragvloks with her car!”

“Are they dead?” Pipa asked doubtfully before another coughing fit attacked her. 

“No. She’s taking on three of them now as we speak. No sign of Spike, but the sun’s out.”

“She needs help then,” Gina muffled through her shirt. “I’m going out there.” Turning to find a weapon, she was stopped by a hand on her arm. 

“So am I,” Sonny said simply. The girls exchanged a knowing look. 

“Lisa!” Gina shouted. “Weapons!”

“What? But what about-“

“Buffy’s all alone out there,” Gina replied. “She needs our help. You can lead the attack from behind once we get rid of the bastards out front.”

Lisa nodded, begrudgingly, then grabbed two swords from the pile on the floor and handed them to Sonny and Gina. “We need to put out more of this fire then, so the two of you can get out.”

“We’re on it!” Rachel replied as she and Maria started wetting more blankets. 

After a few minutes of concerted effort, the blaze at the front door had separated into smaller fires on either side of the door, giving them a slim opening to flee. 

“Here.” Pipa handed a wet blanket to Gina. “Cover yourselves with this on your way out.”

Gina and Sonny hovered together under the wet blanket. 

“Ready, sis?” Gina whispered.

“No. But let’s do this anyway,” Sonny replied with a wink. 

Swords at the ready, the girls charged outside under cover.


* * * *


“Buffy!”

Spike jerked at the sound of someone joining the fight outside. Risking a quick peek out from under his blanket, he saw that two Slayerettes had come to help — an older brunette, no bigger than Buffy, and a young black girl even taller than Nikki Wood. Huh. If they had made it out, then he could make it in. 

Carefully grabbing his new favourite sword from the back seat, he slipped out of the car and made a dash for the doorway, running straight through the flames and screaming, “Bloody hell!” the whole way.

Once he’d cleared the fire, he threw off the smoking blanket and started stomping on it’s burning ends. When he looked up, more than a dozen young girls were staring up at him.

Spike couldn’t help but smirk. “Hello, cuties.”

“What the hell?”

“Who are you?”

“What’s going on?”

“Oh my god! You’re Spike?”

Spike turned to the blond with the Pixie cut. “Pipa, I take it.”

“Yeah, nice-“

“Spike.” 

Angel.

Spike clenched his jaw and kept his back to his Grandsire. “Don’t have time for you, Peaches.” Spike took a deep settling breath full of smoke just to maintain his composure. “But sooner than later, we’re gonna have a conversation.” 

“Spike-“

“Angel, whatever it is, not now!” Pipa exclaimed.

“Who is this guy?!” Lisa demanded.

“He’s Spike,” Pipa blurted, as she retuned to her efforts at putting out the fire. “He’s a friend of Buffy’s and… um… a vampire.” Turning around completely, she added, “But a good one! I mean… he’s got a soul, too.”

“Another one?!”

“We covered this earlier, Lisa,” Stevie injected with exaggerated boredom. “You know, while you and the other Indies were busy raiding our fridge. Can we move on now, people?!”

Seeing all the Slayerettes struggling and coughing through their efforts, Spike rushed to what was now the largest fire in the centre of the room. 

“Carla, right?” he asked the brunette. 

“Yeah,” she replied with a smile, as if flattered that he remembered.

“And Ginger.”

“Sally,” the redhead corrected.

Spike winked and put one hand on Sally’s shoulder and the other around the bucket handle in her hand. “Cover your mouth with something wet, pet, and just keep the water coming. Make two lines of Slayerettes to keep me busy.”

Not waiting for an answer, Spike turned to throw the water at the base of the fire and quickly extended his hand back for another pale. 

“Come one, ladies! This isn’t a spectator sport!”

“We’re on it!”

With two shorter lines of Slayers handing Spike buckets, the largest blaze shrunk rapidly. Pausing to assess the rest of the room, Spike spied that Angel had adopted a similar role in the southeast corner. Shaking his head in contempt, Spike looked then to Pipa and her lot.

“Lookin’ good over there, Longstock!” he shouted with a smile.

Pipa smiled widely. “Thanks!”

After a few minutes, the front door blaze was almost history, while both of the other fires were well under control.

“Alright, ladies,” Spike bellowed as he dumped another bucket on the blaze. “Once these fires are out, let’s get these windows open so you can breathe properly. Then we can bring the fight inside.”

“Who made you boss?” Lisa grumbled from the front door fire.

Spike looked at her with amusement. “I’m just the one who won’t die from smoke inhalation, pet. You have a better idea?”

“Yeah, we go out there and fight, instead of hiding in the house like a bunch of girls!”

Spike just shook his head and went back to his work. He was too old to be put off by a puffed-up teenager.

“Fire’s out at the front door!” Pipa exclaimed. “Lisa, if you’re so desperate to get out there, you can go check on Gina and Sonny now. But don’t engage the Dragvloks in the back until we’ve coordinated our attacks.” 

Lisa wasted no time in grabbing an axe from the weapons pile. “Anybody woman enough to come with me?” 

Two other girls followed Lisa in grabbing something pointy and heading for the door. 

Spike threw a bucket of water onto the fire and stood up. “Be careful out there,” he yelled to Lisa in earnest. 

“Always am, vampire,” she countered without looking back.


* * * *

Spike focused his efforts on putting out the fire in front of him. The sooner he’d seen to the fires inside, the sooner they could draw the Dragvloks into the warehouse and away from Buffy. As he turned to grab another pail, he eyed a bunch of crossbows in a pile of weapons on the floor.

“So who’s the archer in the family, ladies?”

“Huh?” Pipa had joined him at the front lines of the central fire, throwing buckets of water at its base. 

“The Dragvloks have only a few weak spots. The neck- “

“The ankles and the eyes. We know.” Pipa finished. “Why?”

“If any of you birds are a decent shot, you could take out a few from the windows.”

Pipa’s eyes widened. “Of course!”

“Then get your ass to a window, Longstock.”

“Rachel, Sally, Tori!”

All three girls stopped their efforts to look at Pipa.

“Grab a crossbow and head to the back windows! Wait for our signal to start shooting!”

Leaving their fire stations, the girls wasted no time in following orders.

As Spike watched one of the girls leaving the southeast corner, he met Angel’s eyes — both vampires stopping their respective water trains for a staring contest. Spike refused to be the first to look away — until a coughing fit from Pipa startled him back to his work. 

“Let’s finish this, kiddies!”

Several minutes later, both fires were out, leaving nothing but smoke hanging heavily in the room.

“Windows!” Pipa shouted across the room. Several of the Indies raced to stand on each other’s shoulders to reach the multitude of high, tinted windows in the main room. The late afternoon light came beaming in, but well above their heads.

The next moment Buffy, the brunette, the black Slayer and Lisa’s crew came running back into the warehouse through the main door.

“Buffy.“ Her name escaped his lips in a whisper of relief, as his eyes fell on her smudged and bloodied face. 

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice and met his eyes with a smile. Such a simple acknowledgement — but in a room full of people, in a moment of crisis — momentarily stunned him.

Angel was at her side the next moment.

“Are you alright?” the Poof asked with concern.

Buffy glanced his way with a nod, her smile gone, before turning towards the girls in the room. “Good job in here, guys.” 

“The Dragvloks?” Pipa inquired.

“Nothin’ but body parts out front, Pip,” the black Slayer boasted. “Thanks to Buffy, mainly,” she added, looking back at Buffy with admiration.

“Are you alright, Gina? Sonny?” 

“We’re alright, Pipa,” the brunette — Sonny — replied breathlessly.

“So what’s the plan, Slayer?” Spike questioned.

Buffy looked at him again before assessing the group in the room. “The sun will be going down soon, but until then, I need you and Angel inside.”

Spike nodded his understanding and kept his eyes on his girl.

“I need most of you to follow me out front for a surprise attack from behind. We’ll try to force them inside through the bottleneck of the back door. A few of you stay here and work with Spike and Angel as the Dragvloks are forced inside.”

“What about the archers?” Pipa asked.

Buffy gave a questioningly look.

Spike explained. “We stationed a few of the girls at the windows, thinking they could target the weak spots with the cross bows.”

Buffy looked surprise. “Good idea.”

Again, it wasn’t much, but…

“Okay, Slayers!” Buffy shouted. “Get your weapons — the sharper the better. Swords, axes, knives, whatever. And follow me!”

Emptying the floor of most of its weapons, the majority of the Slayers followed Buffy to the front door. Carla and three others stayed behind. 

“Slayer,” he called out to her with apprehension.

Buffy stopped in the doorway and looked back to him.

“I will if you will,” she promised, before striding into the dying sun.

Swallowing his fear for her safety — as irrational as it was — Spike turned and searched the floor for his sword.

“You never asked, you know,” he heard his grandsire challenge. There was no remorse in his voice.

Still bent on one knee, Spike kept his eyes on the sword in his hand.

“That’s the funny thing about immortals, Peaches.” Spike spat out the name. “You can’t keep a secret from them forever.” 

Spike could hear the tosser start to fume.

“You’re the-”

“Fellas!” a Slayer shouted, interrupting Angel. “Whatever this is, we don’t have time for it!” 

Spike stood up instantly and started walking towards the back of the warehouse. 

“Archers! Get your asses in gear!”

“Shoot?” he heard Ginger yell back. 

“Now or never, ducks!”


* * * *

“One down!’

“Make that two!”

“Three, baby!”

“Nice work, archers,” Spike offered, as he rushed to hand Ginger another arrow. Carla and the other Slayers who had stayed behind, were taking turns handing off arrows to the other two, and collecting more arrows from the weapons room. “Make sure you get ‘em through the neck to keep ‘em down!”

“Oh no…” one of the archers whined. 

“What?” Spike couldn’t see the Dragvloks at all, crouched so low away from the windows.

“They’re coming!” Another shouted.

“Wait!” Ginger.

“What the bloody hell is happenin’ up there?!” he groused in frustration. The back windows were low and uncovered, so there wasn’t way to look through them without getting burnt. 

“Buffy and the rest are attacking!” Ginger exclaimed. “The Dragvloks are turning around to face them!” 

“Shoot the hell out ‘em then!”

The archers let their shots fly at breakneck speed, and by the count of their hollers and cheers, he reckoned they’d weakened quite a few of ‘em in no time. 

“Uh oh…” 

“What-”

“I think we made them angry...” 

“They’re comin’ to us?” Spike pressed.

“Time for you and Angel to earn your reps, vampire.” 

Spike looked up to Carla and nodded. “About bloody time, pet. Ang-”

Spike looked back to find Angel standing over him, looking glum. Jesus Christ, the vamp could brood - in any situation. He was armed, though, which was all Spike cared about at the moment.

“Everybody got somethin’ pointy?” Spike shouted, still staring at his grandsire.

“Yeah!”

Spike turned back to the Slayers to find Carla and the others arming the archers with axes and swords. 

“Get ready,” Spike warned. Gripping his sword with two hands, he stepped to position himself closest to the back door, only to find his sword clashing with Angel’s.

The two glared.

As Spike took one step to get ahead of his grandsire, Angel took two. 

Spike looked up at Angel with annoyance. “Whatever,” he muttered, taking several steps back. There were bigger battles to fight at the moment.

BOOM!

“Fuck!”

Spike had just cleared the iron door as it came flying off its hinges to land on Angel — letting both sunlight and the first of the Dragvloks come pouring in. 

With six Slayers and one vamp standing, the Dragvlok didn’t have a chance. Both feet, both hands, and one feral looking head went rolling in five different directions — the corpse adding weight to the load on Angel’s back.

The next moment, so many Dragvloks came barrelling in, that Spike quickly lost count of their number. As he drew several further into the warehouse, he suddenly found himself surrounded by three Dragvloks in the main room — a larger fighting arena than Buffy’s house had allowed.

Lucky for him, the last few decades of demon fighting had served him well. He had more confidence in his strength, his speed and his creativity than he’d ever had before. He didn’t know if he’d win this fight, but he knew that he could. Add to his experience, two years of hunting Dragvloks in particular, plus his success that morning, and he knew more about their instincts than they knew about his own. Compelled to forget the battles raging around him, Spike let out his demon with a roar and started swinging.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been fighting the three, but it had seemed like one long, but fluid dance of dodges, swings and sweeps. He gave himself only a moment to admire his handiwork, before stepping over the corpses to check on the girls.

Carla, Ginger and another Slayer were battling two assholes in a corner, and the other Slayers had joined together in the opposite corner to battle three. From the sound of things, Angel was elsewhere in the building battling his own demons, of whatever sort. 

Looking to even the playing field without interfering, Spike raced to retrieve a crossbow and arrows from the back of the warehouse and sprinted back to the fighting arena. Archery wasn’t exactly his forte, but he was at too close a range to fuck up and kill a Slayer. Standing some meters away from the group of girls fighting three Dragvloks, he sent an arrow through the neck of the most vicious-looking of the demons they’d encircled — killing him instantly, but attracting the attention of the demons left standing.

Both Dragvloks barrelled through the group of Slayers to reach him, freeing all three girls to help the other Slayers. 

Spike cackled with excitement as he retrieved his sword from the floor. “Six down, you ugly bastards! Now get your arses over here and boost my record!” 

It was getting almost too easy for him now, downing the fuckers, especially with the brilliant piece of artistry he called his favourite weapon now. A bloody nose, a busted lip and a few superficial cuts later, and he’d downed his seventh and eighth Dragvlok of the day.

“Yeah!”

“Take that, you jerk!”

Looking to the sound of the girls’ cheers, Spike was pleased to see that the six of them had sliced the remaining two Dragvloks into more pieces than he could count. 

“Nice w-“

A deafening crack of thunder interrupted him, followed by the sound of rain falling like bullets on the warehouse roof.

Spike couldn’t believe his bloody ears. “Now it rains!” But then he realized that the storm had snuffed out the afternoon light that had previously shone through the windows.

“Oi! Sun’s gone ladies!” Spike was still in game face and grinning maniacally at the freedom the darkened sky now offered. “Time to join the real party!”

All six Slayers, glowing from their own victory, grinned back at him, and Spike couldn’t remember having ever experienced anything like it. Suddenly, the prospect of losing even one of those girls that day was more than he could stand. 

“Be careful, sweets,” he warned, as he led them out towards the back in long strides. “Stick together, and don’t try to be fucking heroes!” 

“What, like you?” Carla teased.

Spike looked over his shoulder and gave her a wink.

Approaching the back entrance, he could barely see through the downpour beyond the doorframe. 

“Where’s Angel?” one of the girls asked. 

Spike perked up his ears and looked around. “Don’t know. He may be out-“

“Watch out!”

Spike ducked quickly as a Dragvlok rushed in from outside and swiped viciously above his head. 

“No!”

Whipping around, Spike choked on the air in his throat when he saw Carla’s throat laid open, pouring her life out in spurts. 

With a mindless roar, he threw himself on the Dragvlok’s back — driving the beast away from the girls and ripping open its neck with his teeth. Ignoring the talons digging into his sides, Spike tore away at the demon’s flesh with abandon, leaving its head only attached by the spine.

Spitting the foul-tasting blood from his mouth, he howled as he pulled the talons from his sides. He was startled the next moment to find himself being pulled off the corpse.

“Spike, are you alright?” 

Spike blinked at the girls standing beside him. Casting his eyes to the floor, his shoulders sank at the sight, and his demon melted away. Oblivious to everyone around her, Ginger sat wailing in a pool of blood — Carla’s lifeless body cradled tightly in her arms.

Turning away from her, Spike barely recognized his own voice when he spoke. “Let’s get outside.” 

“What about Sal-“

“Leave her,” Spike ordered. “She’s seen enough.”

Grabbing his sword, Spike stormed out of the warehouse into the rain feeling murderous. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight.

“Oh god.”

It was a massacre.

The street was a graveyard for monsters and little girls. Demon heads and hands floated away on bloodied streams of rainwater to collect at sewer drains. Shredded girls lay strewn atop one another or lying haphazardly under their enemies. 

Spike turned his head away from the scene, and shut his eyes in regret. But he opened them just as quickly.

“Buffy.”

Spike scanned the scene in a panic. There were battles still raging. The visibility was poor with the rain falling so heavily, but he could see Angel battling two Dragvloks near him... Pipa, Gina and a third girl were battling two demons at the end of the street… Sonny battling a Dragvlok on her own… 

Spike gasped.

And Buffy. 

Farthest away from the warehouse, the Slayer stood alone battling five — uh, make that four — Dragvloks now. And while he couldn’t see her face in the torrential downpour, he could see her fury in every kick and swing. There was an almost frightening vengeance in her strikes — the likes of which even the Dragvloks couldn’t match. She was moving murder at that moment. A bloody vision of menace and power.

“No!” 

She was down. Spike tensed before he —

“Agh!”

Twisting around towards the source of the scream, Spike eyed Sonny falling clumsily into a pool of blood. 

Conflicted but for a moment, Spike turned to help the young Slayer…

“Sonny!”

… but Gina was leaving her group to help Sonny, and Spike’s Slayers were running to help both groups.

Buffy. 

Frantically, Spike scanned the scene again in search of her, spotting her some distance away and fighting three Dragvloks now. With a new urgency he started to run toward her-

“Pipa!”

… and stopped in his tracks at the painful cries of more than one girl behind him. 

Growling in frustration, Spike raced towards their cries to find the girls tiring as they encircled two Dragvloks. On the ground between the demons lay Pipa, coughing and panting for her life.

With a terrifying roar, Spike parted the circle and attacked the nearest of the two demons — freeing the bastard of his feet to send him on his knees, before driving the point of the sword through the demon’s eye. Leaving the girls to finish the job, Spike hastily pulled Pipa up over his shoulder with one hand and rushed her back into the relative safety of the warehouse. 

Spike was hardly surprised to find Sally where he’d left her — still crying over the corpse she held lovingly in her arms.

She looked up to him and gasped at the sight in his arms. 

“Please not Pipa too,” she cried softly.

“She’s alive, love,” Spike spoke quietly. “I need you to help her.”

Sally blinked at him as if confused, before looking down at Carla’s body. Carefully — reverently even — she laid Carla down and extended her arms to take Pipa. 

“I’ll take care of her,” she stated with a new strength in her voice. She looked back up to him to speak again. “Just help the others?” 

The unmistakeable trust in her eyes made him pause.

Nodding, Spike turned to re-enter the fray. He’d just reached the doorway when-

“What’s that?” Sally questioned.

The sound of a siren broke through the cacophony of rain and clashing swords, growing louder every second. 

Spike finally let himself sigh. “Fire trucks, love. Game over.”

“But there’s no fire anymore!”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

Spike ran back into the rain to find the girls soaked and confused, as their enemies fled hastily down the street. Angel stood off to the side looking equally lost. And Buffy…

“Fuck.” 

He couldn‘t find her. 

“Where is she?!” he demanded to anyone and everyone who could hear him.

“She ran after them, that way!” Sonny shouted breathlessly — pointing a finger down the street.

Spike ran as if her life depended on it, because he honestly wasn’t sure that it didn’t. She wasn’t aging, sure, but he’d never met a creature from any dimension that could survive a beheading. Oh god. The thought alone made his whole body revolt. 

Spike had sprinted one block when he sighted her another block and a half away.

She was standing alone in the rain with her scythe limp in her hand — her back to him, and her head bent down.

“Buffy!” he shouted as he continued to run.

She turned her head towards his voice… then turned her body, letting her scythe scrape noisily along the asphalt.

And then she bowed her head again…

“Buffy!”

And dropped her scythe…

“Buffy!”

And started to fall…

“I’ve got you, baby! I’ve got you!” 

Spike had caught her just before she’d hit the ground — putting an arm under her knees to swing her up and against his chest. Reluctant to loosen his grip, he awkwardly retrieved her scythe before turning to hurriedly lead them back. 

“Talk to me, Slayer,” he demanded quietly. But her eyes were closed, and she was silent. He didn’t need his eyes to know that she was haemorrhaging. The scent of her blood was intoxicating. 

“Oh god, Buffy, please,” he whimpered, as he quickened his pace. 

“Buffy!”

Spike looked up to find what few remained of the Slayers huddled together in the rain. 

“How is she?”

“Is she dead?”

“Everybody’s dead!”

“Is she awake?”

“She can’t die!”

“Why not? Lisa’s dead! Betty’s dead!”

“Is she hurt?”

“What do you think?”

“Someone call an ambulance!’

“Buffy,” Spike whispered pleadingly into her ear.

“Where are the fire trucks?! We heard them coming!”

“There’s no fire anymore!”

“Buffy,” he pleaded again. He barely registered the chatter around him.

“They probably saw the bodies out front and fled…”

“This is horrible!”

“What do we do?”

“Spike.”

Suddenly Angel stood towering over him.

“How is she?” Angel demanded.

Spike blinked as he pulled her more tightly against his chest, too overwhelmed to say anything.

Angel took a step towards him. Spike took a step back.

As Angel reached out his hand to touch her, Spike answered with growl, low and soft.

“Spike, I need to check her out!”

As Angel reached out again to snatch her body from his arms, Spike vamped out with a roar — thrusting his foot into Angel’s gut and sending him flying into the mess of weary Slayers. 

Gina approached him next.

“Spike. Listen man.” Tentatively, she extended one hand out towards Buffy. “We need-“

He growled softly again and turned his back to her.

He heard Gina sigh. “Spike, I know you care-”

“Give her to me, Spike.”

The voice brooked no argument, but was gentle. 

Spike froze.

And familiar. 

As he turned around slowly, every Slayer spoke at once.

“Oh my god!”

“What are you doing here?”

“When did you get here?”

“How did you know?”

Bloody hell. 

Long, brown locks clung to the wet and weathered cheeks of a woman several inches taller than him. Her eyes were round and blue and open — just like he remembered — though encircled with lines. She was old. No. Grown-up. And beautiful.

His demon melted away — leaving his face blank, his mouth slack.

Slowly, the man behind her came in to view, as he walked purposefully towards Spike. Thick, salt and pepper hair framed a middle-aged face with… one eye. 

Spike felt as if he’d entered an alternate universe.

Dawn stepped forward to stand behind her husband’s shoulder.

Spike didn’t move. 

Shifting his eyes back and forth between the older couple, he felt his chest go slowly cold as Xander lifted the bleeding Slayer out of his arms. 

Dawn looked deep into his eyes when she spoke. “I’m sorry.” 

Turning towards the girls, she continued. “I’m sorry you didn’t have more help tonight,” she said solemnly. “I’m sorry that so many have been lost here. I knew all of you, some more than others. But I mourn everyone who’s died today. I have help from the Council coming to collect the dead...” She took a moment to look at a Dragvlok head at her feet. “… and to clean up the rest. Someone to see to the wounded, too. And guards to watch over the doors tonight since they’ve been compromised.”

Someone spoke up. “But how did you-“

“That hardy matters at the moment. Right now… I need to get Buffy home.” With that, Dawn started walking towards a blue SUV parked some ways down the street — Xander turning slowly to follow several steps behind her, the Slayer in his arms. The girls — every one of them the picture of misery — began bringing the wounded indoors, until only Spike and Angel remained standing dumbly in the rain. 

Spike looked on longingly at the Slayer’s feet as they dangled in the air — the only part of her in view as Xander carried her away. 

And then abruptly, her feet stopped moving.

“Hey, Blondie. You comin’ or what?”

Spike blinked as he stared at Xander’s back.

The next moment, her dangling feet began moving again.

And without thought, so were Spike’s, to catch up with her.