~*~*~*~*~*~
chapter 32
~*~*~*~*~*~

Todos Santos was a sleepy town filled with the long lost charms of old Mexico. The storefront leased by Andrew and Caridad drew no real attention in a
community long in the habit of staying out of others’ business. The sun was setting as Spike suited up in the special clothes concocted by Dawn and Willow.

Spike laughed to himself as he realized that Dawn had to have had Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible on her mind as she designed the snug-fitting black outfit. "Not hangin’ from any big rubber bands with high tech headgear, no matter how much the Junior Watcher might beg," Spike mumbled. The clothes covered him well, even up around his neck. Willow had assured him that the spells worked on the material combined with the charms sewn in would make it harder to penetrate by any non-magical weapon or poison. His boots had been
similarly magicked by the uberwitch.

His bare head was as vulnerable as ever and his hands would be uncovered. "Not goin’ into battle trussed up like a mummy in black wrappin’s. Plan to kill these buggers but not with laughter. Looking for a good bloodlettin’ on account of them takin’ my lady." Spike had a small argument with Dawn over the issue while the plans for the costume were being discussed. He was touched by the depth of Dawn’s worry about his survival. This was so different from the last time he went into battle with these particular people.

The slayer blood Spike had fed upon was singing in his system, filling him with power and strength. He was as ready for battle as possible.

"Don’t you dare not come back, you hear me!" Dawn hugged him tight enough to break the ribs of a human. "I fully expect to be refereeing between you and Buffy by tomorrow. In fact, I plan to go buy some earplugs while you are gone just to get ready."

"This axe may be small, but the blade is able to slice through steel with no trouble at all. Oh, and it fits on the belt right here." Willow attached the weapon to the hook on Spike’s belt. "Got a couple of special swords for you, too. Amazing what you can find on eBay when you know how to tell the real deal! They hook on your back here so you can just reach over your shoulder and use them, one at a time most likely."

"Ooh, you could use one in each hand like that Saracen fighter in the Robin of Sherwood series! You’d look so totally cool that way!" Andrew got a dreamy look on his face at the thought of his vampire hero wielding two swords in combat. "Ahhh, Nasir!"

"Calm down, pup. I’m in this to win, not for the show. ‘Sides, no one’ll be there to see anyway." Spike laughed at Andrew’s eager expression. "I’ll use
whatever works to get the job done, even a bloody chamber pot if that’s all there is around to bash with."

"What’s a chamber pot?" Andrew looked to Giles for an answer.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with." Giles turned to Willow and reverently touched the two swords she extended to Spike. "Are you certain these are the authentic swords? Dear Lord, I didn’t even think them real, merely legend."

Willow smiled confidently and replied. "Most legends have some basis in reality. Look at vampires, for goodness’ sake. The whole Council is built on belief in legends, Giles. I was surprised the Council hadn’t collected these years ago.

"This is called Caladbolg in Irish, or Caledvwlch in Welsh. It was the sword of Cuchulain and Fergus Mac Roich in Celtic history. It’s supposed to ‘consume everything’ and be able to even cut through a hill! The Welsh legends of King Arthur call it Caliburn and it’s the sword called Excalibur in the other Arthurian legends." Willow handed the gleaming word to Spike, who
looked at it in some awe before sheathing it on his back.

"Feels a bit wrong…a Big Bad like me havin’ such a weapon handed to me to use." Spike was feeling humbled at the history now resting between his
shoulders. "Not exactly round table material here."

"Nonsense! They were flawed characters also, Spike. Facing the challenges in front of them caused them to reach beyond their own natures. Sounds quite like you, actually," Giles responded, much to Spike’s surprise.

Willow drew out a much older, less shiny sword and handed it to Spike for the other sheath. "This one is called Hrunting. It’s kind of tricky. It has great power and is never supposed to fail its user. Um, there was this one time though …" Willow had a slightly pained look on her face as she recalled the one instance the sword had failed badly. "When Beowulf went under the lake to kill Grendel’s mother, it didn’t work. So, okay, not invincible, but you’re darn tootin’ it’s powerful! You might want to save that one just in case. I tried to find out more about Grendel’s mother and why it didn’t work on her, but there’s just no real data now.

"I tried to buy Balmung, the sword Sigurd used to kill the dwarf Fafnir when he was a dragon. It was supposed to be able to cleave an anvil! Some jerk in
Denmark claimed he had it, but it wasn’t the real thing. Those swords of Wayland all have a special magic imprinted on them. Can’t fool me!" Willow
looked over Spike’s new weapon-enhanced battle costume with satisfaction. "Wish we could have gotten some of the armor he made, that would have been mega cool."

Spike smiled at the little witch and reassured her that he felt more protected then he ever had been in battle. "Besides, all that metal’d be a dead giveaway that I wasn’t exactly just wantin’ to check into the bloody place. Least this can be hidden a bit with my duster, yeah? Gonna pack some smaller weapons in that small carry on bag and I’ll be ready to go check in to the famous Hotel California, complete with useful luggage."

Angel approached the warrior with a small thermal bag. "Here. More premium blood in case you need it when you get out of the dimension. Should be enough to jump start you ‘til you get back here with Buffy."

"Thanks, Gramps. Mighty nice to know you care." Spike knew how hard it was for Angel to let him, of all vamps, be the one to go into battle with Buffy as
the prize. "I’ll get her out. No worries, mate. Learned from the best, didn’t I? Had to be a right good scrapper, havin’ the great Angelus on my arse all those years."

Angel clapped him on the back where no swords hindered a hand. "Good luck, boy. I really mean it. I want you back here too, preferably in one piece."

"That makes two of us then." Spike extended his hand and looked Angel in the eye as they shook hands for the first time in complete accord.

~~~~

Spike looked over the small hotel of Eagles song fame with his head at an inquisitive tilt. It wasn’t particularly impressive. A simple, two-story stucco building with palm trees lining the sidewalk in front. The upper floor boasted a balcony that ran the entire length of the building, as the porch on the ground level did as well. It could have been a modest building anywhere in Mexico or parts of the American Southwest. There was nothing to indicate any supernatural element to it. Nothing special about it at all. Nothing except it held the doorway to Spike’s beloved and that made it the most important building ever erected.

Spike entered and headed for the desk with the nameplate labeled ‘El Recepcionista, Miranda Gomez de Calderon’. The pretty, dark-haired clerk smiled in greeting as Spike approached.

Spike brushed off his Spanish and asked for a single room with a bath. "No tengo una reservacion. Cuanto cuesta coda noche?" He shrugged apologetically when admitting to having no reservation. Senora Gomez, however, was unconcerned and told him the nightly room rate, then asked for his passport and a deposit.

William Rice-Stoker was directed to the escaleras and given his room key. The hotel didn’t have a need for an elevator and the stairs were wide with a short
enough rise to make the trek up them not too difficult for even the weariest traveler.

Spike took his two small bags and headed for the room he would officially be residing in. After storing his weapons bag and blood stock and looking about his plainly appointed room, he decided to take a walk down the hall to see if the hidden room would show up with a quick pass.

At the end of the hallway was a small closet, most likely a utility closet used by the maids for storing the supplies needed to keep the small rooms tidy and fresh. Spike opened the door and peered in. The orb sewn into his front pants pocket did its job and there, at the back of the small closet, unseen by the naked eye, was a door with the numbers 666 emblazoned on the front. "Well, looks like I pick door number two then." Spike went back to his room to select what weapons he planned to take and return at once to his real destination. He felt as ready as he would ever be. Time to go get his girl.




~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Photo of the actual Hotel California