Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.

SECTION 7 - LAKE OF FIRE

People cry, people moan.
Look for a dry place to call their home.
Try to find some place to rest their bones.
While the Angels and the Devils try to make THEM their own.

(Nirvana, Album - MTV Unplugged with thanks to Zanthinegirl for the suggestion)




Chapter 7.02
Friday, July 12th, 2002


Spike prowled the entrance hall with all the restlessness of a caged tiger, pacing out a territory bordered by bands of late afternoon sunlight.

Wes nodded as he made his way past to the drawing room where a crowd was already beginning to gather. "She'll be fine. It's not like it's the end of the world..."

Spike rolled his eyes and then pinned the watcher with his gaze. "You think?" he asked scornfully, knowing that he, for one, didn't want to be around for the fallout if Buffy's mission this afternoon had been unsuccessful.

Wes tried another tack. "The meeting's due to start. If you don't grab a seat soon-." The watcher stopped, realising that his presence came under the heading of superfluous.

Xander's car had just pulled up at the front of the school, pausing long enough for Buffy to climb out of the passenger door before he continued around the side of the building to look for a parking spot. Spike was instantly as close to the main door as the sun would allow and the slayer impacted hard enough to drive him back six inches or so as she threw herself at him. "I did it!" she exclaimed as he peppered her face with kisses before lifting her with his hands at her armpits and whirling her round and round, so that when Xander did get to the door he had to hang back to avoid being kicked in the chest.

"Told you you would do it," Spike announced gruffly as he finally returned her feet to the floor. Xander slipped discreetly past as the vampire set about kissing his fiancée in earnest.

Spike ignored the first loud cough from behind them, and the second, and the third.

Finally Quentin decided to take a more verbal approach. "I know that saving the world ranks rather low in Miss Summers' priorities, especially in comparison with your plans to make a mockery of the marriage vows, but I was hoping that it came in somewhat higher than indulging in public sex to celebrate something so mundane as merely passing her driving test."

With some reluctance Spike finally pulled away, and Buffy blinked at the council chief as if noticing him for the first time. "Huh? Did you say something?" she asked in a bewildered tone. She smiled as Quentin turned on his heel in disgust, taking Spike's hand in hers and leaning over to gently worry at Spike's earlobe. "I was busy thinking about how I'm going to boink my future husband's brains out," she added just loud enough to raise a growl of laughter from the vampire.

---

 

Over the last few weeks the "usual suspects" had expanded slightly from the norm. As well as the expected selection of watchers and Scoobies, James had made the first team and Ha Nath had encouraged the four demons, who, along with her, made up the security detail at the club where she worked, to sign on for the fight. None of them bothered with the PVC and high heels any more, now that the club had been temporarily closed down, but even so, they gave off a strong girl gang vibe that was mostly focused on making sure that Quentin minded his manners. The museum's curator had also earned himself a seat at the metaphorical conference table, though in general he was content to watch. The last of the new additions was Shannon, who had taken over Kennedy's spot as second liaison to the potentials as she still couldn't manage full training with her injuries and, more importantly, as Spike put it, she didn't get on his wick.

Giles rose to his feet as Buffy and Spike entered the room, his congratulations limited to a brief broad smile given the audience. "Alright, I'll begin by recapping what we covered at our last meeting." He frowned as he turned in his pacing to realise that Spike had slid loose-limbed into his temporarily vacated chair and settled Buffy on his lap.

"Shannon was able to give us a first hand description of her meeting with Caleb, last time. We still haven't been able to ascertain whether his claim to have something belonging to Buffy is merely bait for a trap or whether there is also an element of truth. We do know thanks to our bringer friend that Caleb has been gifted with supernatural strength. For this reason we've been avoiding a confrontation with him until Buffy and Spike were fully healed again."

"Ready to go kick preacher butt!" Buffy confirmed. "No more inconvenient bleeding holes."

"Yes, quite, well, perhaps it is time that we tested just how strong the opposition is," Giles agreed, "but if the indications are correct we really don't want any of you standing toe to toe with this fellow. We can discuss this later. We also know, again courtesy of our former captive, that there are thousands of Turok Han waiting underneath Sunnydale to be freed by some sort of blood sacrifice. Unfortunately, further research has failed to come up with more information on either the where or the how." Giles looked surprised to see Oz raise his hand to just above head height.

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't that be why they've been stabbing people and then dangling them over some big hokey seal?" the werewolf asked. "Just a thought."

"Yes, well, you, em, just might have something there. Perhaps we could arrange some form of practical experiment. Are the girls ready to take on Turok Han, yet?" Giles asked, looking to Spike and Buffy and then at Faith.

A glance passed between the two slayers and then both shrugged. "The best ones, probably," Buffy finally conceded, "if me and Faith both tag along. We can try them with one tonight?"

Faith nodded her assent. "Sure."

"Now," Giles continued. "We hadn't got very far with the book research last time, but one of Bee's sources has pointed toward a possible weapon in the form of a Nihilist cleansing crystal. There are certain qualifications required in order for someone to be able to wield one of these things." Giles' gaze travelled first to Oz, then to Ha Nath and her companions before finally coming to rest on Spike. "There may be several options open to us, but I believe that this is not a topic for general discussion. If anyone decides to take on the burden, it must be of their own free will, not because they've been pressured into doing so. There may be half a dozen or so of these things in existence, but it could take us months to track one down, so we've commissioned one to be made via a well known magic dealer based in L.A. In fact, Bee negotiated us a rather nice discount due to the impending end of the world."

Bee shrugged. "I called my grandmother. She made Uncle Jacob agree to do it at cost. No biggie. It still won't be cheap once they bring in the freelancers they'll need to enchant it."

"Fortunately," Giles answered, looking in Quentin's direction. "The council has deep pockets. Other than that, we really haven't made too much headway on the research front. The police reports have thrown up some interesting material in the Southern states, which we think may be related to Caleb and we've sent a group of watchers to investigate, but it's all old stuff."

"Actually," Penny raised a hand that held a manila wallet. "Robinson came across an interesting report just before I was leaving for the meeting. It's a little closer to home, it happened less than two months ago and..." She pulled out a blown up photocopy of a circular burn with a cross in the centre. "It's got Caleb's mark all over it."

---

 

Spike pulled the keys for his bike from his pocket, expecting Wes to be equally keen to take to two wheels, but the watcher shook his head. "Unless you want to be stuck there for a whole day, I suggest we take one of the cars and some blankets and since I can't drive yours with all that paint on the windscreen..." Wes switched off the alarm on his Ford, but Spike's attention was elsewhere.

Wes's eyes narrowed as he realised Spike was still looking at the cars on the other side of the main doors. "We're not taking the Daimler. It's a hire car."

Spike shook his head with a wicked grin and pointed at the silver silhouette that hulked over the luxury car. "Look up. Our little preacher likes setting up blow outs. I figure we need a car that can go off road... and if I've got to curl up on the backseat all the way back, we might as well have something with a bit more legroom. You get some blankets. I'll break the bad news to Rupert about his shiny new 4x4. I bet he's only driven about six miles since he bought it. It's probably still got that fresh leather smell."

---

 



It didn't take Spike long to discard most of the CDs that were in the glove compartment and open up the CD wallet he had fetched from his own car. He pulled a disk from its pocket and slid it into the machine, waiting until Wes had pushed a bundle of heavy woollen blankets into the back seat and climbed into the front to press play. Flicking the end of his cigarette out the driver's window onto the drive, Spike gave a joyful howl as Wes turned up the volume and Shane MacGowan's drink-roughened rasps filled the air.

Neither of them had any illusions about the seriousness of the situation they were in, nor of the mission they had to complete but that didn't mean that they couldn't listen to good music. Giles threw open the library window, leaning out to berate them before he realised that anything he might have to say would be drowned out by the strains of "If I should Fall From Grace With God". Suddenly the idea of cursing Spike with a soul and making him wear that trinket when it was ready didn't seem quite so sadistic after all... if only that didn't involve talking Buffy into the idea as well.

---

Saturday, July 13th, 2002
 

Spike snorted as he noticed the first of many banners that decorated the town. "Gilroy - Garlic Capital of the World. Gilroy's World Famous Garlic Festival July 27th & 28th. Think Rupert's trying to tell me something?"

"Like what? That he's noticed the only thing in the school that eats chilli-garlic bread faster than you is Rogue? Just keep going. The mission's the other side of town"

"Just so long as there's no bells an' no shimmering lights."

Only minutes later they pulled in beside the mission building. Wesley looked up at the light tucked under the eaves of the main building. "You're safe," he told the vampire. "No shimmering, just good old-fashioned electricity."

There was another electric lantern in the courtyard by the mission's doorway, the potted plants still arranged perfectly, as if the monks had simply gone out for a stroll and not come back.

Spike tried the rightmost of the pair of doors and it pushed open with a loud creak, revealing a dark candlelit interior.

"Hello-o-o! Anybody home?" Wes called out from behind the vampire, figuring that they had already lost any element of surprise they might have had. "Someone had to light the candles," he half-whispered to Spike.

A door was pushed open on their right and slightly behind Spike. Wes took a step to the left and brought up his shotgun, just as a black-robed figure was about to dive at him. The figure stopped dead and raised his hands in the air. Spike was already fairly certain that he would find a human under the dark cowl rather than a bringer. A bringer would most likely have thrown itself at Wesley regardless of the shotgun, not to mention the whole knife thing. He reached out and pulled the hood back, just the same.

Wesley looked in some puzzlement at the man who was revealed. "I thought this was a Franciscan mission. Shouldn't you be wearing brown?"

"Wesley." Spike ground out with a slight hint of impatience. "I think you can stop threatening the nice monk, now."

"Oh, sorry!" Wes lowered the gun. "We weren't expecting anyone-."

"Tell me about the mark," Spike's voice was soft yet firm as he raised a hand to indicate the burn on the monk's face, the vampire moving closer in order to check his suspicion that it matched the one Shannon wore on her neck.

"Oh..." The monk lifted a hand to his face, covering the scar and he began to back away from the two intruders, obviously terrified.

"Hey! Are you part of Caleb's faction?" the blond asked, wondering if that were the reason for the man's sudden fear.

The vehement shaking of the monk's head and his obvious distress at the idea as he mouthed a chorus of denial made it clear that he was not.

"Then tell us what happened," Spike continued, resuming the reassuring but resolute tone he had adopted earlier.

"I c-can't," the monk stammered, stumbling over backward.

Wes checked that the safety on the shotgun was on and rested it against the wall so he could crouch down at the victim's side. "We need your help. It's important."

"We're trying to fight him. Caleb," Spike added. "We need to know everything you can tell us."

"You can't fight him. You can't stop him. You can only run."

Spike tilted his head slightly and looked at the man. "Me, I mighta thought about it, only I'm pretty sure my girl missed school the day they taught running away. She's the stubborn type." Spike extended a hand to the monk and pulled the man back to his feet. "Talk."

"I'll do better. I'll show you." The monk lifted a candelabra from a nearby dresser and began to walk slowly along the corridor as he spoke. "One night, some time ago, a man arrived at our doors."

"And you said, 'Come in. Do some damage.'?" Spike replied, knowing the answer already, since the inscription over the mission door was obviously the reason he had been able to enter rather than what they had thought was the building's abandoned status.

"We are - we are a benevolent order, and, yes, we welcomed him. We offered to feed him... but he had come for something else." The monk stopped in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary which occupied an alcove. With a touch, the back of the alcove and the statue swung away, to reveal a hidden void. "Behind this, he revealed something even we didn't know was here. A secret room." The monk walked into the centre of the room with Spike and Wes following behind. He raised the candelabra high to show three bare walls and on the fourth a medium sized tapestry. "He was excited, talking the whole time... destiny, that sort of thing."

"Yeah," Spike drawled. "We hear he's a real smooth talker."

The monk stepped forward, taking down the tapestry from the wall to reveal an inscription in Greek lettering. "He was going on about this ancient inscription. He read it... and he didn't like what it said. His temper... He was the purest evil I've ever seen. He burned his mark on me. And then I ran and I hid... and I listened to the others die."

"And by running away you survived," Wes told the monk in a comforting tone as Spike took the candelabra from the monk and stepped closer to the inscription. "You being here to show us this may make all the difference."

Spike mumbled the words of the inscription aloud as he translated them "It is not for thee. It is for her alone to wield." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Wes tried to give the monk a reassuring smile as Spike passed on their progress report to Giles. "So... Dominican, then?"