~*~

They were almost to the airport before either of them spoke again.

Not too surprisingly, it was Spike who opened his mouth. “Third,” he said, staring at the road intently.

Buffy jumped, startled. “What?”

‘’f I killed you—which I’m not gonna—“ he added hastily—“Then it would’ve been m’ third Slayer.”

Oh, yeah. She could dimly remember her Watcher cautioning her about that. “I was making fun of you, Spike,” she said, making her voice as sarcastic as possible. “Too bad you’re not bright enough to be able to tell.”

He snorted, still staring studiously at the road—but the car sped up a bit. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

“Coming from a soulless vampire, that really doesn’t hurt,” she retorted.

“What the bloody hell ever.”

She cocked an eyebrow. He sounded sulky. He, Spike, the Slayer of Slayers, was sulking. “Wow. That’s pathetic.”

Personally, she hadn’t thought that particular insult was terribly mean, given all that had happened between them. Apparently, though, Spike felt differently, because as soon as the words left Buffy’s mouth, anger seemed to overtake him. He sped the car up till they were pushing 100, then, tires screeching, pulled off the highway. Dirt flew everywhere and Buffy clung to the seat as the car jerked from side to side, too shocked to even scream.

As soon as they were safely stopped on the side of the highway, with cars whizzing past them like nothing had happened, she regained her voice.

“God fucking dammit, you dumbass, you ever pull a stunt like that again and I swear to God, I’ll fucking well make you kiss dayli—OW!”

Spike slapped her across the face, so hard that she flew against the passenger window. The impact made a sunburst of pain explode in her head, which was something that she was pretty used to. What she wasn’t used to was the look of pain on Spike’s face when she looked at him again.

“D’you know what’s pathetic?” he demanded. “You’re the sodding Slayer, Summers. ‘ve killed two of your kind. But Dru broke up with me over you, an’ now I’m traveling with you, fighting at your fucking side, because somethin’ I did is about to end the world. An’ for some reason, that doesn’t sit too well with me—but it damn well should! I ought to want the world to end, like a proper vampire, but instead I decide to bollocks it up by getting your help. An’ it wouldn’t be so bad ‘f you were even remotely decent t’ be ‘round, but instead you’re the nastiest li’l bint ‘ve ever met!” He stopped, chest heaving unnecessarily, his expression torn between fury and confusion.

She stared at him. Spike liked to speechify. She’d learned that a long time ago. But the fact that his speech was so full of anger, the fact that he seemed even more uneasy than she was about this whole thing, made her feel—

Oh, God. What was happening to her? Slayers did not pity vampires. Slayers staked vampires and never felt any emotion for one other than happiness that another one of the bloodsuckers was gone from the face of the earth. But now, staring at the bane of her existence, she actually felt sorry for him.

It was disgusting.

But he was watching her expectantly, probably waiting for an angry rejoinder. Well, he was destined to be disappointed—all she really wanted to do was hit something, and since she needed his help with the whole end of the world thing, she couldn’t do that.

Instead she pushed her emotion away, like any good Slayer should, and asked calmly, “Since we’re stopped, why don’t you give me some details on the problem in Europe?”

Vampires weren’t capable of emotion. She knew that just as well as she knew her own name. But in that second, Spike’s expression went from confused and angry to relieved.

No. I’m imagining things, giving human characteristics to him because he looks human. My Watcher warned me that this would happen. He’s not feeling anything. He can’t.

“Right, then.” Spike’s voice interrupted her musings. “Chit I turned a few years ago—dunno her real name, I called ‘er Red. She was vacationin’ in Los Angeles, I was passing through, figured she was cute an’ she’d look cuter without a heartbeat. What I hadn’t reckoned on was her goin’ to Sunnyhell an’ changing an old friend ‘f hers.”

“The redheaded vampire,” Buffy said flatly. She remembered the girl from when she’d taken down the Master. Pure evil had resided in that body. “She was a fledging?”

“She’s got power,” was the grim rejoinder. “An’ not just vamp power, either. Word has it that she skipped town once you took over an’ went off to Europe with her boy. She’s learned some witchcraft, an’ now she’s lookin’ to kill the world.”

“That’s really great,” she said sarcastically. “You’ve got serious skill when it comes to causing trouble, you know that?”

He laughed, and empty, joyless sound. “Yeah, well, it gets better,” he said. She found this li’l bit, name of Dawn—she’s some mystical key or some rot like that.”

“Mystical key?” Buffy interrupted. “What the hell is that?”

Spike shrugged. “Bunch of energy, far as I can tell. Dunno exactly how she works, but Red worked out a way to funnel power out of the girl. She—Red—turned this key-girl, so now the witch has as much magical power as she wants for eternity. ‘Cept since she’s plannin’ on destroying the world, eternity means ‘bout two months now.”

“Two months? I thought she was in Europe. We can get there in two days.” Buffy narrowed her eyes at Spike suspiciously, trying hard to conceal her fear. A powerful witch/vamp with an even more powerful energy source that will supposedly last forever? Holy shit. The Master was nothing compared to this…

“D’you really think Red wants us trying to muck up her plans? She’s not exactly gonna give us the red carpet welcome, luv.”

Buffy was too distracted to even notice his unwelcome endearment. “So, basically, she’s going to hurl everything she has at us. Which, given that she’s a witch and a powerful vampire, means that she has a lot?”

“Yeah.” Spike voice was grim. He didn’t try to offer any good news; Buffy got the feeling that there wasn’t any. I’m stuck in a car with a bloodsucking fiend—willingly! What could possibly be good about this?

Then she remembered her Watcher and his endless lectures about responsibility and the need to keep oneself separated from humankind. Oh, yeah. It could get worse…

“Okay, so big bad mojo headed our way. I get it. Can we go to the airport now?”

Spike glared at her. “You know, a little thank you wouldn’t hurt. ‘m saving you ass, you might wanna—“

“You’re not saving my ass, Spike.” Buffy’s voice was cold. “You’re saving your own. I just happen to be the only one who can kill the witch bitch.”

Silence. Then: “Well, yeah. That sums it up.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. Trust him to not even bother protesting her not-so-flattering estimation of him. “Just drive.”

Icy silence again took over the car.

~*~

Far away, a black mist drifted into a small tomb and coalesced into a figure that, in the moonlit darkness, almost looked human.

“Back so soon?” came a voice.

“Don’t tell me you are disappointed…” the figure returned, his voice thickly accented.

“Do I look disappointed to you?” The owner of the voice moved into the moonlight. Silver washed over pale skin, black leather, and dark reddish hair. Deep red lips pursed. “I got bored, waiting here all—alone,” The vampire whispered, trailing a finger down the others’ chest. “Didn’t even have puppy to play with.”

“You are missing him already?” Scorn registered in the cultured tones. “Darling, by the time we are finished, he will be but a distant memory.”

Willow pouted up at Dracula. “Are you sure?”

He smirked. “But of course. And in the meantime, do you not have another toy to bring you pleasure?”

A feral spark gleamed in the female vampire’s eyes. “Wanna take a peek?”

“I pray that you will not deny me.” Dracula smiled faintly as Willow led him over to a tomb. They rounded it, and his smile grew when he saw what lay on the other side.

“C’mon, baby,” Willow cooed, grabbing the girl by her hair and wrenching her head up.

Dawn whimpered, her face flickering from vampire to human guise. “Please…” she begged. “Let me go…”

“But that wouldn’t be any fun!” Willow protested in mock-gentleness, tracing circles on Dawn’s cheeks with sharp fingernails. “And don’t you wanna have some fun?”

“No, please!” Tears ran down Dawn’s cheeks. “Please, please stop.”

Willow let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Bored now,” she said, and pressed her hand onto the side of Dawn’s head. Green fire licked over the vampires fingers, rapidly absorbed by the pale skin. “Oh, yes,” she breathed, barely audible over the young girl’s screaming.

Dracula just watched and smiled, fingering the knife that hung at his side.

~*~