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Chapter 33
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The heavily armed vampire took a deep, unnecessary breath and opened the door to the hallway, where he nearly collided with a slightly frazzled Giles. "Watcher!
What are you doing here? Any problem with the plan?"

"No, Spike. All seems fine, as fine as we can be certain of at least. No, I am here for three reasons, actually. First, I can better tell from here if the back-up force will be needed. Then I have but to signal and the rest can be here in a flash. Second, I wish to be nearby when you bring Buffy home. I realize I may be selfish. Dawn, after all, has a closer tie to Buffy. Buffy and I haven’t been as close in these last few years, regrettably. Still, she is precious to me. The
closest thing to a child, really. I’ve missed her greatly and as it fits well with our plan, I choose to live up to my title of Watcher and watch, if you will. Thirdly, I wish very much to be your first line of support, Spike.

"I think we have established a new relationship based on mutual trust here of late. I cannot undo our troubled history, but I can build a new future, beginning here and now. I came to wish you well, Spike, and be here if things go sour.

"Am I to assume that you have already located the hidden entrance to the Senior Partners’ dimension?" Giles turned hopeful eyes to Spike.

Spike shrugged and replied, "Yeah. Hard to hide it in such a small place, thanks to the handy dandy orb-o-matic the oracle bloke gave you. It’s in the janitor’s closet. Figures, anything to do with cleanin’ up after people is usually as good as an invisibility ray, even without the magic." Spike chuckled a bit. "It’s how lots of demons blend in. Dress like a typical homeless sod and no one even sees you."

Giles held out a small electronic device to Spike. "Andrew insists you need some high tech weaponry as well. This is a taser-like device that should incapacitate a foe if you press it on his skin. That does, of course, necessitate getting in close
contact. I’m not sure how helpful it might actually be, considering that factor, but I have delivered it as promised."

"Might be just the trick to use on Eduardo the Unkillable. We never did find the Achilles heel on that bugger and I can’t see him just handin’ Buffy over. Won’t mind shootin’ a few volts into that great git." Spike had a wistful look on his face at the thought of tasering the Immortal and watching him writhe. "You lot might want to keep lookin’ for a loophole in his "Get Out Of Death Free" card or we’re just gonna have to keep dealin’ with him over and over. Slippery character and full of nasty tricks; best take him out durin’ this war if we can."

"Excellent point. Naturally we will be continuing to look into a way to permanently remove him from the scene. It is my fond hope that the removal of his masters will put a period to his contract, and thus his immortality." Giles agreed with Spike in his assessment that the Immortal was not someone to take lightly. He had managed to avoid payment for his supernatural gifts for several hundred years before the bill came due.

"That’d be a bit of alright, Rupes, but we both know it never seems to be that easy. I want this to be the end of that particular Renaissance man. He keeps fuckin’ me over, especially going after my women. Needs put down," Spike spat out. Thoughts of Dru and now Buffy were in the forefront of Spike’s mind at that moment. Memories of time spent in a potentially lethal jail cell on a trumped-up charge of tax evasion while The Immortal was screwing Dru’s brains out weren’t any less painful all these years after the event.

"I concur. We will find out how to make certain he pays for his crimes. In the meantime, I quite agree that Andrew’s bit of hardware might be just the ticket to immobilize him." Giles would have preferred a more certain plan to take out this particular character, but the taser would have to do for now.

Giles settled into the room to prepare for his duty as lookout. Xander was in position to see the prearranged signal should Giles give it. The entire back-up team could be at the hotel within minutes.

"Wish me luck, old man." Spike headed for the door.

"Godspeed, Spike." Giles had never meant that phrase more.
~~~

Spike hadn’t been sure what to expect on the other side of the door of Room 666. What he did not expect was to find himself in the lobby of a hotel quite similar to the one in his own dimension. The rather seedy appearance was the major difference. The lovely Senora Gomez was nowhere to be found. Instead of the well-manicured and coifed clerk at the other hotel, there was a thin, balding man with bird-like
features and jerky movements. He had something of a tic that caused his head to spasm to the left frequently. He appeared to be startled at the sight of the black-clad vampire with all the shiny cutlery on him.

"Welcome to the Hotel California. How may I help you?" He said in a raspy voice.

"Yeah, know the song. Check out any time I like, blah blah blah. Where’s the Senior Partners’ suite, and don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about." Spike put on his best "don’t fuck with me" face.

"Are you expected? I don’t have any appointments listed for any of the Partners. Perhaps you would like to leave your card? I could get you settled in a room to await their availability. We have room service as well." The clerk ran a finger along his collar as if it had tightened appreciably.

"This is a surprise visit. Won’t be needin’ a room, just three body bags, four if you try to play hero." Spike advanced on the man and glared at him.

"I’ll just ring them, shall I?" The man picked up an old-fashioned telephone and made a move to place the call. Spike’s hand shot out and ripped the telephone cord from the wall, wrapping it around the startled clerk’s neck in one quick movement.

"I think you missed the word ‘surprise’ in my comment. Now, you be a smart little rodent and point me to the right room and you might just survive this little massacre." Spike tightened the cord enough to make his point to the mousy clerk.

The man gagged and pointed to his throat to indicate his inability to breathe, much less speak. Spike loosened the cord enough for the man to choke out a phrase. "Mr. Hart is in, I believe. He is in the owner’s suite on this floor. Please don’t kill me; my contract has me scheduled for a worse place than this hell-hole when I die!"

"You and me both, so I’ve been told. Hey, maybe we’ll be neighbors! Just in case, neighbor, better not jerk me around. I’ve got a long memory." Spike slipped into game face for a moment to underline his point.

The already pale man lost even more color and gulped. "No! I’m being square with you. I got no reason to be loyal to those three. They stuck me here in this pit and just ‘cause I skimmed a few lousy grand off one of their operations. I’m a lawyer, Harvard class of ’08, not some hotel clerk. No sir, no loyalty here!"

"Before I help you into a little nap, you can answer a couple of questions. How long a nap will depend on how good your answers turn out to be." Spike had pushed the little man down on a chair and was towering over the twitching stool pigeon, leaning towards him in intimidation.

"Blonde cutie, early twenties, expressive eyes and kick-ass attitude. Woulda checked in with a slick Italian show-off. Where can I find them? I’ll be wantin’ the suite numbers for the other two Partners, too." Spike saw a flicker of fear in the clerk’s eyes as he realized the full extent of Spike’s intentions.

"Mr. Wolf and Mr. Ram have their suites on the top floor. Mr. Hart is the most reasonable of the three. Look, if they misrepresented you in a case or something, I’m sure they’ll make it right. You want your lawyer fried, he’ll fry. They run a tight ship. Customer’s always right, that’s their motto. As for the blonde dame, yeah, she checked in with Eduardo d’Medici, old client of the firm. They have the third suite on the top floor, but she’s probably dancing in the courtyard about now. Lots of pretty, pretty boys out there that she calls…" Spike tightened the cord a bit.

"I said I know the bloody song. What about Mr. Not Immortal For Much Longer? He out there with her?" He loosened the cord so the stoolie could take a breath and talk.

"Yes. No. Maybe. Look, I don’t know, okay? He’s been spending a lot of time with Mr. Ram. I don’t think he was expecting to have to stay here so long. Not exactly his kind of hotel, you know. Not a five star joint. Eduardo’s none too happy. Complains all the time, makes demands of the staff. Not that interested in his little friend either. She’s in a world of her own and Eduardo’s used to being the center of attention. He was one of my clients for a while when I headed the Milan branch. Likes to come down here and rub it in that I’m stuck here now."

Spike cut off the blood supply to the informative clerk’s brain long enough to knock him out. A few minutes and some duct tape later, the former lawyer was rolled nicely into a small closet and locked in.

"Right then, off to see the bleedin’ Green Man. Crazy world when a vamp takes Excalibur into a fight with Herne the Hunter. Owner’s suite it is,"

Spike guessed the unmarked door off the office area was the most likely entrance to the suite housing the deer-headed demon. "I’m guessin’ stealth is my best plan ‘round ‘bout now. No point in lettin’ the other Partners in on our little consultation. Think I’ll go for the polite surprise approach." He took the axe from its hook on his belt and held it out of the line of sight of anyone who might answer the door.

As ready as he’d ever be, Spike knocked.

"Dilby, I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed!." The Senior Partner was speaking as he opened the door. He had a comely Hursgrath demon tucked into his right side and a highball glass in his left hand. It was obvious that the demons were NOT discussing any pressing legal matters. Hursgrath demons were well known for their oral skills and not of the verbal variety.

"What the hell? Who let you in here, vampire? If you’re here to plead for mercy for that trollop of a slayer to be released or make some deal to get her out, you’re sadly mistaken." Mr. Hart gave his playmate a slight shove into the hallway. "Later, ducks. I have an intruder to dust. This won’t take but a moment. Be sure to save my place."

Spike pushed forward, shoving the demon into his suite. Spike shut the door with his foot as he cleared the entrance after Hart. The suite was much larger than it appeared possible from the outside. It was also far more posh than the seedy
lobby had indicated. Clearly this Senior Partner had a taste for expensive art and furnishings.

Spike eyed his first real opponent and smirked. "You know, I’m kinda glad you’re the first lucky customer. Got me some personal issues; not too fond of antlers. Was kinda worried I might have some sentimental problem in takin’ out Herne, bein’ English and all. Instead you’re nothing but pretend, not some god of old Britain. Fact is, you just put me in mind of another antlered, rutting wannabe I met in Brazil, only less drippy. Let’s dance, Rudolph, or are you one of Santa’s other livestock?"

Spike blocked the way to the door and the hallway beyond it. The last thing he wanted was to alert Hart’s two other partners and turn this into a three-on-one. Hopefully, the demon girl with Linda Lovelace talents was waiting in her room for her staring role in "Animal Planet Goes NC-17".

Hart lowered his head, stag style, and prepared to charge at the vampire. Spike pulled the axe into fighting stance and prepared for the blow. The antlers hit Spike just under his armpits, slashing at his sides at rib level, as Hart tossed Spike against the far wall.

Hart snorted in triumph and raised his head to sniff the anticipated, delicious smell of blood. He looked puzzled as he noticed there were no deep gashes spilling life’s elixir on his lovely marble floor.

Spike surged to his feet and shook his head as if to clear it. "Good work, Willow and Dawn! Score one for the home team," Spike said to himself.

He turned to the demon and taunted him. "Think I saw that move on Wild Kingdom. Gonna snort and rush me again? Come on, give me a little challenge, will you? I’ve been trainin’ too hard for you to turn into just another nancy demon with a coat rack on your head. Come on, Bambi, show us what you got."

Spike launched himself at the demon, using a sweeping kick to knock Hart on the side of his shins. The demon went down hard but was up again almost as fast. Spike clipped the axe back on his belt to free up both hands for the pleasure of pummeling the antlered demon.

Hart had long legs with cloven feet to match his deer’s head. He also had speed and agility to match any vampire. He kicked back at Spike as soon as he regained his feet, knocking Spike into the large, sunken entertainment area. As Spike hit the step backwards, he lost his balance and fell to the carpeted area, landing on the edge of a glass-topped coffee table.

The base of the table was wrought iron and Hart grabbed a leg of the broken mess as he leapt to put a finish to the annoying undead before Spike had a chance to stand again. He managed to get a good heft to the table leg as he swung and connected with Spike’s skull.

The Slayer blood raging in Spike’s system kept the damage at a minimum and the adrenaline helped to propel him to his feet before the table leg could crash down again.

As he rose to his feet, Spike unclipped the axe and neatly lopped off the left antler of the gloating demon. "Gaaa! You miserable halfbreed bastard! It takes years to grow a rack like this! I was going to stake you, but now I think I need to do you slowly." Hart advanced on Spike, glowering in rage.

"What’s the matter? ‘Fraid our demon whore’ll start callin’ you Stumpy? Maybe she already does, huh?" Spike threw the insult with deadly aim.

The enraged Senior Partner lowered his head, tilting the longer side towards Spike, and charged once again.


Spike dropped and rolled out of his range, picking up the severed antler as he rolled. He now wielded the axe in one hand and the demon’s own antler in the other.

Spike lunged with the longer antler, aiming at the demon’s midsection. He pierced it, although not deeply. Before Hart could respond, Spike brought the axe across and slashed the other antler off close to the skull.

The antler was grabbed by Hart before it could hit the floor and he began to use it in the same way Spike had used the other one, slashing at the vampire wildly.

Spike again dropped and rolled, this time a forward roll, coming to a stop behind the demon and quickly jumping up, left foot in kick position to hit the flailing demon in the small of his back.

Hart was propelled towards the ruins of the coffee table face first. Spike grabbed a rather lovely marble bust of some dead Roman and brought it down on the back of the Partner’s head with a sickening crunch. Hart didn’t move and Spike moved in to check for signs of life.

Spike grabbed the partial antler left on the demon and raised his head to see if he was dead. In a last hurrah, Hart bit deeply into Spike’s exposed right hand.

"Bloody hell! I haven’t had my rabies shots, you git!" It was time to end this little party. Spike used the severed antler he still held and neatly slit the throat of the first of the Senior Partners. "Gotta find somethin’ to catch some of this blood in if I want it fresh enough for that ritual" Spike thought.

He looked around the trashed room and found a Grecian amphora that put him in mind of Buffy’s mum and her art gallery. He used it to catch the flow of blood from the demon’s jugular vein. It wasn’t spurting, so the creature was dead. Still, the flow was copious and the smallish urn was rapidly filling. "Best make sure," Spike reminded himself as he hacked off the head of his fallen foe.

"Well, that wasn’t worth the bother! I should be in, out, and on my way in no time. Probably should stow this nice liquid door key out of here some place safe and tidy, find my Slayer, then finish off the other two buggers. Piece of cake."

He put the amphora filled with blood under the unfortunate Dilby’s desk in the lobby and headed for the courtyard and his first look at Buffy since Rome.