Buffy roughly brushed the tears away from her eyes as she stormed down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. She had to be strong right now; she had to take down the evil creature that had taken her mother’s life. Still in a state of shock, a red haze of fury filling her mind, all she could think about at that moment was revenge.

Her mind tried to process the fact that her mother was really gone, that she would never see her, talk to her, touch her, ever again. It was just too painful to conceive of, too devastating. She shoved the cruel thoughts out before they could take root in her mind. She just couldn’t think about that right now; it simply hurt too bad.

So instead, she focused on avenging her mother’s death. It was as if she had put a wall up in her mind, closing out the pain and focusing on the anger and hatred. She didn’t have time to think about it now; she had to punish her mother’s killer. The part of her that was the heart-broken, devastated girl shut down, and allowed the hardened, vicious Slayer to take control.

She was halfway down the sidewalk when she realized that she really didn’t even know where Faith’s headquarters was located. Xander had said something about an old mansion on the western outskirts of town, but that was all the information she had, and she did not intend on going to back to the house before she had done some serious slayage.

It didn’t matter, she realized. According to Xander’s story, Spike often led one of Faith’s gangs in their nightly activities on the streets of Sunnydale. Finding the mansion would not necessarily lead her to her prey; she would be more likely to find him by doing exactly what she was doing – walking the street, looking like a helpless victim.

“Hey, there, Baby,” she heard a taunting male voice behind her, helping to support her theory.

She slowly turned to face the owner of the voice. She already knew by his voice that it wasn’t the vampire she sought, and a look at the group of about a dozen that now stood behind her revealed that he was not among them…but that didn’t really matter to her all that much at the moment. She was after Spike, but she had more than enough rage to spare for any other vamps that got in her way.

She could use a warm-up.

“Whatcha doin’ out here all by yourself, Baby?” the vampire continued, approaching her with a menacing leer. He obviously had no idea who he was dealing with. He thought she was just a foolish girl who happened to have been caught out alone.

Her eyes were cold, but she put a flirtatious smile on her face as she sauntered boldly a few steps closer to the vampires. “Looking for some action,” she replied suggestively, drawing even nearer to the one who had addressed her.

Much like a hormone-addled teenage boy, he glanced around at his friends with a knowing grin, before turning to face the girl again. His eyes never even came to rest on her again; before he could even turn the rest of the way around, the Slayer had taken one of her stakes from her pocket and plunged it into his heart.

As his ashes settled around her, she turned toward the others with a smile. “Now *that* was exhilarating. Who’s next?”

The others seemed stunned for a moment, surprised that she had dispatched their leader so easily. But after a moment they seemed to recover, assuming that she had just managed to get lucky with her flirtations that had allowed her near enough for the killing blow. The thought that this might be the missing Slayer never occurred to them. She was just a girl, and what could one girl do against a dozen vampires?

She quickly showed them just what *this* one girl could do, and within minutes the lot of them were dust.

She continued on her way down the sidewalk, keeping her eyes open for any sign of her prey. When she reached Main Street, in downtown Sunnydale, she saw another group of vampires a few hundred feet from her. They were armed with baseball bats and clubs and were smashing in the windows of a convenience store.

Among them she could clearly make out a distinct platinum blonde head.

Fury in her eyes, her gait, every facet of her being, she strode purposefully toward them. They did not notice her as she caught up to them, catching a couple of them who were still outside the store and staking them within seconds before storming inside.

Inside the store, the vampires were behaving like a bunch of juvenile delinquents, taking a few things like liquor and cigarettes, but mostly just smashing things and creating general destruction. She wasted no time, grabbing the nearest vamp by the back of his shirt and plunging her stake into his heart, then moving forward toward the next nearest one to her.

As soon as they realized what was happening, the rest of them surrounded her, thinking, like the last group, that they had found an easy meal. She didn’t say a word as she simply set to work, wiping them out with deadly efficiency.

The entire time, she watched Spike out of the corner of her eye, surprised that he did not join the fray. He simply stood there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching in an almost bored fashion as she took out his group, one after another.

Soon, she was down to two vampires who seemed a little larger and a little more skilled than the others, and they were working together, doing their best to corner her. She fought well, but the truth was that she *was* still out of shape, and had been working on sheer rage thus far. But her rage could only carry her to the limits of her physical strength, and Buffy was beginning to tire.

Finally, she saw an opening and lunged toward the larger of the two, her aim deadly in its accuracy. But before the dust had even settled, the other one had grabbed her from behind, gripping her right wrist in his hand and wrenching it backward, hard.

She let out a little cry of pain as the stake fell from her hand, struggling to free herself, but he was much stronger than she was at the moment. The vampire threw her to the ground, hard, and before she could recover, turned her over, gripping her wrists and pinning them over her head as his fangs descended toward her throat. She thrashed and struggled against him, but could not seem to break his hold.

She was cursing herself for her weakness, for allowing herself to get so out of shape and out of practice, certain that this was it, and wondering if the next Slayer would be able to take out Faith and save this town or not…when suddenly the weight of the vampire on top of her vanished, and she nearly choked on the disgusting dust cloud that settled over her.

Coughing and wiping her eyes as she pushed herself up on her arms, and stumbled to her feet hastily, not sure what threat she might face next, she was amazed to see Spike, standing there watching patiently as she recovered, his arms still crossed and her fallen stake in one hand.

“That, Slayer, was bloody pathetic,” he informed her matter-of-factly.

“Yeah?” she said, with a cold smile, taking her other stake from her back pocket. Suddenly, she was feeling her strength return as her fury built again at the sight of her mother’s murderer standing before her, so smug and derisive. “Let’s see if I can make up for that.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he dropped the stake in preparation to fight her…too late. He had not thought that she would go after him, not after he had spared her the last time and saved her only moments ago. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that he had honestly not expected her to attack him, and the thought shocked her.

But not enough to distract her from her purpose.

She unleashed her fury upon him, not giving him time to recover in between as she rained blow after powerful blow upon him, until she had him backed up against the counter. She gripped his throat with one hand and slammed him back against the counter so that he was bent backward over it, raising the stake in her other hand to strike.

He really had not expected the Slayer to try to kill him. Not after the last time when he had easily bested her, and then on top of that, allowed her to live.

In truth, he had not expected her to be *able* to kill him.

But this girl was obviously not the same broken, indifferent person he had seen in LA only a few days ago. She fought with a fire and fury that was far beyond what he had seen in her even at her best, when he had fought her before.

But what was most chilling was the cold hatred in her eyes. He knew that this time, she was out for blood, and would not stop until one of them was dead – and truth be told, either way that little scenario could play out would not be to his liking.

He just barely managed to catch her right wrist in his hand before her stake pierced his chest, holding her back with all his strength, which he could feel faltering due to the incredible power of her attack, and the utter lack of leverage his position left to him.

“I thought you owed me one, Slayer,” he choked out, struggling for all he was worth to push her off of him with his free hand. But her rage-fueled strength at the moment was simply too much for him. “I gave *you* a free pass,” he reminded her.

Her eyes widened in incredulous disbelief, as she snarled in a disgusted, furious voice, “All I *owe* you is pain, Spike.”

“Not the way I see it,” he ground out, gritting his teeth as he felt his grip slip a little and the stake come another perilous inch nearer to his unbeating heart. “I could have killed you in LA, Slayer. I didn’t. *And* I just killed that bloke that was about to make you his bloody dinner…could lose my soddin’ job for that, pet. I’d say that means you owe me a little more than the business end of your stake.”

His calmness, in the face of his impending death, in the face of what he had *done*, only infuriated her further. “You know what?” she said with a wide, false smile, raising her stake hand away from his heart, pulling it out of his grip, but not releasing her relentless, pinning hold on his throat. “I think you’re right. I think I owe you more than just the point of my stake.”

And with that, she turned the stake around and smashed it down hard across his face before leaning in close again to add, “I think I owe you a *lot* more than a quick, easy death, Spike.”

As the stars faded from his vision and he tried to focus on her, his eyes widened in disbelief, absolutely stunned by the intensity, the brutality of her attack. They were mortal enemies, right – he could understand that. But the fury, the malice she was displaying seemed to go deeper than that. She seemed to have some personal affront against him, and he did not know why.

Struggling again uselessly to rise, as she pressed the stake to his chest again, the point digging into his flesh just above his heart, hard enough to draw blood, but still a good several inches from his heart, he gasped out, “Just what is it you think I’ve done, Slayer?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” she snapped, and he winced as the stake dug in a little deeper. “You killed my mother, you bastard!”

He was absolutely stunned by her words, and suddenly he understood why her attack held so much more power than it usually did – than it ever had, really. Somehow she had gotten it into her head that he was the one who had killed her mum, and that had fueled her strength to an unbelievable degree.

Suddenly, he was also absolutely certain that he was not going to make it out of this alive if he could not convince her that he was not the one at which her vengeance should be directed.

“No,” he protested quickly. “No, Slayer, you’re wrong! I never touched you mum, I swear it!”

“Liar!” she hissed, dragging the point of the stake downward a bit from his heart, tearing through his flesh with the weapon.

He bit back a cry of pain as he gasped, “No! I’m telling you the truth, I know someone killed your mum, but I swear it wasn’t me!” He raised his head and met her eyes, desperately hoping that she would see that he was telling her the truth.

She glared down at him. The sincerity in his eyes made her falter for a moment. “You’re the only one who could get into my house, Spike,” she insisted in a voice trembling with anger and confusion. “It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

That came as another surprise to him. “Maybe they tricked her. Maybe she invited them in herself, pet. I don’t know,” he spoke quickly, just guessing at possible scenarios, seeing his chance and seizing it. “All I know is I didn’t bloody do it.” He felt her ease the pressure of the stake in his chest, and knew he was getting through to her. He cautiously raised his head to look her in the eye more directly. “I wouldn’t have done that,” he insisted. “I liked your mum. She was a good lady. And I swear I didn’t know a thing about it until it was done.”

She looked down for a moment, unsure, her eyes welling with tears, her lips trembling. Suddenly, those green eyes hardened and focused on him again as a new thought occurred to her, and she pointed out in a voice of steel, “But you do now. If you didn’t kill her, you know who did.”

It was a statement, not a question, and he did not deny it.

“Tell me,” she ordered coldly, and once again he felt the wooden stake digging into his injured chest.

She never knew if he had intended to answer her, because suddenly she felt a hard hand around her throat yanking her up off of him, spinning her around and slamming her back against the counter. Immediately she sprung back to face her attacker, a large vamp with a long, wicked-looking knife in his hand. Glancing around, she saw that there were about a dozen more with him.

There was nothing for it. She had to fight them, and she fought hard, taking them out in a matter of minutes. But when she turned back toward the counter, and glanced around the store, there was no sign of the vampire whose interrogation and death they had so inconveniently interrupted.

Spike was gone.