There had to be a mistake. There just had to. She couldn’t accept that everything which had transpired just a few short weeks before was possibly going to happen again.

“…to revive the vampire they need his bones…”

This can’t be happening! Everywhere she turned she could swear his eyes were watching her, plotting how to kill her again. Only this time there would be no one around to bring her back. Short lifespan, indeed.

And now this, the news she’d dreaded since the moment she killed him the first time. The Master’s coming back. Which one will stay dead this time? She could feel her skin break out in a cold sweat and a chill run down her spine. “All Slayers die young,” had been an ever present mantra playing in her head throughout summer. Now it became an unbearably loud clamor inside her head, one pushing away any rational thoughts and making her enter a fight-or-flight mode. She wanted to flight, but she knew, just knew that the inevitability of her death was written in stone.

Once more she put on a brave façade, drew in a deep breath and tried to convince everyone, most of all herself, that “I can handle this”. Despite the others’ protestations and disbelieving looks, she knew for a fact that, “This is my fight.”

And that was the gist of it, the thing that made everything better and worse at the same time: it was her fight… and ultimately it would be her death.

---

“I… I think I might know of a way to prevent this. The… ah… text is scratchy, at best, however I think-”

“She’s gone, G-man,” Xander interrupted, still upset over Buffy’s weird behavior.

“I know she’s gone, what do you take me for?” Giles snapped at the young man so hell-bent on mangling his name. “However, I believe that this information may be vital.”

“What is it, some way to get Buffy to be, well, herself again? Some magic enhanced staff to prevent the Master from awakening? What?” Willow’s innate need to find out more was bubbling inside her like a soda-pop after being shaken.

“No,” Giles spoke with reverence, “a spatula.”

Aghast, both Willow and Xander’s jaws nearly hit the ground.

---

Angel was relaxing in his home. A good book and some soothing music in the background, Tears for Fears of course, was just what the doctor ordered. Well, if any doctor would have taken a look at him. After all his crimes and attempts at repentance, not being able to get a physical seemed like such a small thing, but it represented a symptom of a greater problem.

And so his relaxing afternoon at home while waiting for Buffy’s school day to end was ruined. He started brooding again, the faces of his victims playing at the edge of his vision. He was a monster and would never get a shot at being anything but that. When he was human, so long ago, shots hadn’t even been invented yet. Now he would never need one. Surprising how such a thought could bring such sorrow.

He tried to shake himself out of his dark thoughts. Buffy would start patrolling soon. She had to, despite her nasty words for him. He knew she was just trying to resist his charms but eventually would be unable to do it. It was written, so it was meant to be. He would shadow her, put her on the right path a Chosen One should follow and mold her into the perfect companion for a Champion of the Powers. Whistler said that’s what he ought to do, didn’t he?

He raised his head up in alarm and rose off the recliner with such speed that he had to check if his hair was still in place. Thank God, the gel was still doing its job. He grabbed a leather coat off the rack and got ready to depart. The work of a Champion was never done. He’d learned something was going to go down soon, so he had to get to Buffy’s side and make sure she did her job. Ah, the sacrifices one makes for redemption, he thought to himself as he shrugged the jacket on.

---

On a lonely highway, a car was speeding north, always north in a frantic attempt to reach its destination. Inside its blackened interior fumes of gasoline, alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed to make the air unbreathable for any human, which didn’t bother its sole occupant at all. What bothered him was the way his beloved car seemed unable to make the trip across continents as fast as the BMW his consort had hitched a ride in.

Barmy bint... my ripe wicked plum is lucky I love her so much, or I’d be mighty pissed with her running off to Sunnyhell again. And for what? To make sure Ol’ Batface will cast his useless shadow on the ground once more?

She’d given him the slip, letting him go by himself to Prague only to skedaddle back to the States. He’d sworn to never go to the Hellmouth ever since he’d offed the New York Slayer only to find his Princess riding her great-grandsire into oblivion on the other side of the country. He just knew looking for the new Chosen bird in LA was going to get him into trouble.

That much trouble and not even a little bit of fun, because Lothos had already bollixed it all up when he got there. The bloody nancy boy and his poncey idea that a green Slayer is a good target… He snorted to himself taking another long drag of his cigarette. Git never knew how to have a fair fight if you hit him over the head with it. Gotta let a Slayer develop a bit, make it a challenge. And why am I thinking about the Slayer when Dru is off probably shagging the Master’s bones back to life?

With that thought he ground his teeth together and stepped on the gas pedal. The sign welcoming people to Sunnydale never knew what hit it.

---

Absalom was pouring over an obviously old text, Colin looking bored at his side and minions milling everywhere around them.

“We need them now, the troops are ready and the time of resurrection is at hand!” Absalom ranted seemingly to some invisible audience, as everyone already present had heard his words not ten minutes before, during his previous rant.

“The Master will be pleased,” Colin stated, implacable as ever.

Out of a dark corner a shadow began emerging, seemingly forming itself out of nowhere. “They told me, they did. The pixies never lie. Unless they’re bad, bad pixies that deserve no milk.” The form that had the odd accent and hypnotic voice began to sway slowly from side to side, to some tune only her still un-discernable ears alone could hear.

All the vampires inside the warehouse tensed up, getting ready for a fight with whoever this stranger was. Colin raised his eyebrows and inquired who was disturbing him, while Absalom raised the ceremonial blade in preparation for any possible attack.

“Hush now, your time is not yet. It will be, with candy and cake. Miss Edith does love her cake. You can have some, too, if you play like a good little boy. ” Everyone could clearly make out the figure of a strangely alluring woman now, a dark-haired beauty who looked almost ethereal and clearly deadly. Her eyes fell on the gathered bones of the Master and at once they turned amber, her brow ridging and claws extending. “The Sunshine did this, bad girl gets no tea. You must put Humpty Dumpty together again.” She started clapping her hands together, a sight that would have disturbed any human, given her demon form.

Absalom was unimpressed. “We are here to do the Master’s bidding from beyond the grave. You are trespassing and must either bow to us or go away.” He assumed a haughty position.

“I am the Anointed One, the rightful successor of the Master and ruler of Sunnydale. Who is it that dares disturb us?”

The madwoman stopped mid-clap and all playfulness bled out of her countenance. “I am a Princess, my Dark Knight always tells me so.” Seeming thoughtful, her eyes almost glazed over, she went on without paying any attention to those around her. “Daddy called me his special girl, worthy of the nicest pain in all the land.” Her eyes came back to the world, pinning Collin in his spot, her words sounding like nails on a blackboard. “And Great-Granddaddy was nice to me, unlike you. You have pixies all around, but are too blind to give them tea. They’re mighty cross with you, they are and you’ll find the Sunshine before the glittery stars.”

One of the minions, attempting to take the initiative, decided that the mention of the sun’s deadly rays was an attack, so he tried to subdue the woman that had penetrated their defenses. He suddenly found himself in a meadow, a stream trickling by and birds audible in the nearby trees. He had no idea how he’d gotten there, but his heart swelled with uncontained glee. So big did it get, in fact, that it encompassed his body, the clearing and even the surrounding trees.

The stake fell to the ground and rolled to a halt in the dead silence that had followed the surprising suicide of one of Absalom’s most trustworthy underlings. Shocked vamps barely held their ground, unwilling to risk what was apparently a very powerful foe.

“Rejoice, my pets, the time to sing is near,” with that said, she stepped next to the Master’s bones and stroked them like a lover, becoming lost in whatever world her mind drifted in.

With a shrug, the rest of the vampires got back to what they were previously doing, preparing to bring the Master back.

---

Cordelia Chase, queen of Sunnydale High, head cheerleader and overall goddess among men opened her eyes to see herself heaped at the bottom of a cage. She got up, dusted herself scrunching her nose in distaste and took in her surroundings.

This is not good. As far as she could see through the dimly lit building, there were huge rooms and almost everywhere there were vampires posing as guards or doing God knows what. The old construction – a warehouse, maybe – seemed to not have been used for decades, most of the walls sporting decaying paint and the floor littered with… Ok, not thinking what those are. Denial may be best here, people.

She didn’t know how come she was still alive, and she was alive, first thing she did being to check her own neck for a pulse or fang marks, finding one and, surprisingly, not the other. She didn’t dwell on why they wanted her unharmed, thinking of gift-horses and mouths. And I bet if one of them did bite me I’ll die from some sort of poisoning. I mean hygiene, people, look into it.

One thing was infuriating, though. The Neanderthal wannabes had ruined her shoes and her dress. A thread was loose and the slime would probably never come out, even at the most expensive cleaning service. She stomped her foot, but when one of her captors turned and changed to his vamp face, her complaints died in her throat.

Cordy huffed, got to the middle of the cage so as not to touch any of the slimy and rusty bars and started to list in her mind all the ways Buffy Summers was to blame for her current condition.

The door to Willie’s banged open as a black-clad male stepped in. By his confident swagger and firmly placed smirk, it was obvious the assorted demons inhabiting the bar didn’t faze him. This meant one thing for Willy: it was time to start making some O-neg Bloody Marys.

The stranger settled himself on a stool, lit up a cigarette and demanded some Jack. After quelling his thirst, the bleach-blond man grabbed Willy by the collar and brought him nose-to-nose with the now game-faced vamp.

“Now, tell me the news, otherwise you’ll find out exactly what happened to the guy who owned this place back in ’77.”

“What do you want to know, mister…” Willy asked, trying to contain the tremble in his voice.

“Spike.”

Gasps could be heard from some of the tables where demons were blatantly eavesdropping. Spike grinned but didn’t even try to see who it was that recognized him. He had already appraised the foes and the positioning of the sounds gave him all the information he needed.

“I see your patrons have heard of me and if the stench of your fear is anything to go by, so have you. So talk before I make you my evening snack.”

~~~~~***** ~~~~~

As he took advantage of the shadows, Spike was intrigued to see that the guy that was supposedly the Slayer’s Watcher was ransacking cabinets in the teachers’ lounge, muttering to himself about spatulas, of all things. That in itself would have been odd, but what was truly unique was confirming what the sleazy bartender had told him the night before. The Watcher was not alone and the two people milling about him, clumsily trying to help, seemed to know all about the Chosen bird’s job.

What really piqued his interest though was the entrance of a dark haired woman that appeared to both belong there and somewhere else, somewhere he couldn’t quite put his finger on. If the Watcher’s reaction to her presence was anything to go by, there were quite a few sparks flying between the two.

Just as he was finishing his appraisal of the four people now rummaging for kitchen appliances, the group of vampires he was expecting burst in. The ensuing altercation giving the Master Vampire all the information he needed about the Sunnydale situation ever since the Master’s demise. The town was ruled by idiots. He hadn’t seen such shoddy work since the days of the hippies. Coordination lacked and brains were obviously a commodity the group was in sore need of. It was so bad that the droopy boy previously stumbling over his shoelaces had managed to dust one of the assailants before the humans finally fell prey of the vampires.

Adding insult to injury, the blubbering idiots didn’t even sense his proximity, his Master signature being so strong the minions should have detected it from the moment they’d entered the building.

Shaking his head at the moronic lackeys trying to bring back Old Batface, he had no problem following the group that was making enough noise to wake the dead on the other side of the small town.

~~~~~*****~~~~~

The door to the Bronze slammed against the wall as the pissed off Slayer barged in. She wanted a fight and she wanted it yesterday. She’d found out early enough after being Called exactly what the best remedy for, well, anything really was: a good old fight to the death with a dusty ending. There was nothing on the planet as cathartic as watching some random vamp burst into ashes.

Tonight the need for the release fighting brought her was in more demand than most nights. Tonight the memory of her short-lived death was even more present than usual. And isn’t that one of those ironic thingies. Short-lived death *snort* yeah, right! What had her even more on edge was the presence of a vampire just a couple of feet behind her. She could practically feel his chilled breath on her neck. Angel, why the hell won’t you just go and leave me alone. This is my fight!

The previous night she’d lied to him, told him she’d moved on to “pulsers”. So what if that wasn’t exactly true? So what if instead she’d gone clubbing, shopping, and done whatever she could think of to forget the previous year? She did all the things she used to do back in the days at Hemery: illegal drinking, making out with jocks, setting targets to pick on for their lack of fashion sense or for seducing. Nothing worked, though, and everything left her a stale aftertaste.

She‘d ignored her own discomfort and had forged on with the Valley Girl routine, but she knew she was faking it. She was miserable and this pseudo lust for life wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She wanted to crawl away and shut everyone out. Maybe that would stop the hurt. So moving on from Angel? No. But really, what is there to move on from? Were we with the togetherness? Shyeah, nu-huh.

And the infuriating vampire was breathing down her neck – literally. Ok, so technically he wasn’t quite breathing, more like gulping air from time to time as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t speak out after their recent “talk”. Whatever, like I wanna hear what he has to say? As if! He’s a vampire, I’m a Slayer. And he dares tell me I’m weak? I’d kick his ass. Really, I could.

She found the vamp she’d been trailing after. And after the mildly satisfying beating of said vamp, she learned what she wanted. Well, not really wanted. She didn’t want to know that this had been a trap for the others. It was supposed to be her fight, not theirs! Her fight and her death! Shit!

~~~~~*****~~~~~~

Absalom was busy reading his books again while Colin yawned. Just as the older vamp got the particular look on his face than meant he was about to start preaching about the Master’s revival again, the door opened and a leather-clad bleach-blond vampire sauntered in. Colin sighed in annoyance that he’d have to play lord and master again.

“Oh, my Spike, the family is coming together again. We’ll have a grand party with lots of guests. I want a pretty dress, Spike. A pretty dress with a pretty girl in it from my Dark Knight.” The lunatic that had arrived earlier startled everyone. How many lunatics are there in this Order? Colin thought to himself.

“How are you, Princess? Did you eat anything since you left? Why don’t you come with me and let your Dark Knight take care of you? We don’t need to be here for what’s coming.” Spike made to grab her around the waist, only to be rewarded with a swat of the hand across his cheek.

“Bad Spike! You talk naughty things. Great-Granddaddy is coming back and we must be here to welcome him. So shush and take your place.” Dru went back to the side of the Master’s bones. A few moments of stillness passed. Spike’s eyes were fixated on the woman as she rocked from side to side, whispering to the Master’s skull.

“And who are you? Pay your respects when you arrive in our territory. The Anointed One deserves your deference!” Absalom boomed in the same voice he used to give orders.

Pulled out of his reverie, Spike turned towards the ones seemingly in command. A ponce and a brat. This town has gone to shit. “I am William the Bloody and luckily for you I know just what to do about Slayers. Kill them!” He grinned evilly as he lit up a cigarette. “Now I hear you have some mates of hers locked up tight waiting for a draining. Mind if I have a nice little chat with them? I want to see what they know.”

“The sacrifices are for the ritual. They are not to be harmed until then, is that clear?” Absalom looked down on the vampire that seemed a bit too cocky for his own good.

Raising his hands, Spike signaled his acquiescence. “Not even going to touch a hair on their heads. I just want some answers.”

“You may proceed, William, but be careful what you do,” Colin decided to speak up as well.

“Call me Spike, and don’t worry, I’ll be good. Scout’s honor.” Snickering, Spike strode towards the back of the partly dilapidated building, following the drumming of heartbeats.

Getting to the room where the captives were locked in cages, he dismissed the guard and approached the older man, smirk firmly planted on his lips, as he looked him over.

“So you’re the Slayer’s Watcher.”

“What business is it of yours, foul beast?”

Sneering unpleasantly, Spike went on. “I have a few things to talk to you about, so you can dispense of the pleasantries. We’ll have a cuppa later and trade expletives, but for now let’s chat.”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

He’s got more balls than I gave him credit for. Good, I like a challenge! “Listen, old man, I want to know if your Slayer can take out the wankers outside.” At the startled look on the Watcher’s face, he grinned evilly. “It would save me the trouble. Now, where can I find her, ‘cause I have a proposition to make her?”

“There’ll be no propositioning of the Buffster. She and Angel will so kick your scrawny ass!” Xander shouted in what he thought was defending his friend. Ok, so she’d been less than friendly lately, but still.

“So the Whelp has a voice.” Spike chuckled locking eyes with the youngster. “Too bad you don’t also have a brain. The English language too tough for you? Don’t want the chit that way, just wanted to talk to her and see if we could reach an understanding.”

“She will never deal with you, demon!” Giles held firm.

“She just deals with my Sire, huh? Is that some sort of discrimination against good-looking blokes? Does she only get hot and bothered when she sees a brooding forehead the size of a billboard?”

“What do you mean your ‘Sire’?” Giles was too fascinated by finding out information to remember he wasn’t supposed to be talking to the evil demon.

“Well, more like Grand-Sire if you really want to go diggin’ in my family tree. He made Dru, she made me, and he helped her. How is dear old Angelus these days? Still munchin’ on rats?”

“That makes you what, Deadboy Junior? Man, how many of you vamps are there in this family of Angel’s? Not that you’re not all gonna get what Darla got!” Xander shrugged it off as Giles’ jaw was so slack words couldn’t form on his lips.

“Heard about that. Yes, you tweedy twerp, I am William the Bloody, also known as Spike. By the horror in your eyes, I’m guessin’ you’ve heard of me?” Spike grinned again.

“You will not make her your third, you miscreant. She’ll defeat you as she did the Master and avenge her fallen sisters!” Giles tried to sound confident, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. Spike’s smirk just grew bigger.

“Third what, G-man?” Xander wanted to clarify, although the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach alerted him he might not want to know the answer to that question.

“Third Slayer I off in a century, Whelp. No other vamp can say that.” Spike winked at the now whimpering redhead cowering in the adjacent cage.

“Buffy will still take you down. She’ll fight you and she’ll win, ‘cause that’s what she does. She wins. Even with the Master she won. So what if technically she was dead a few moments, but what matters is the end result, right? And it’s not like-” Willow babbled with her hands flailing in jerking movements around her.

“That will suffice, Willow.” Giles cut her off.

“Well, if you’re over a century old it explains the look. Billy Idol is so 80’s!” Cordelia decided she had to share her opinion as well.

“The ponce stole the look from me!” Spike threw over his shoulder at the brunette daring to insult him. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the older dark haired woman he’d seen earlier.

“Didn’t I eat an ancestor of yours once? Now where was it? Where are you from, pet?”

“That is none of your business. Leave us alone.” Jenny refused to cave under the force of his gaze.

“Doesn’t matter, anyway.” Spike shrugged. “Look, as much as I enjoy your prattling on about this and that, there’s a room full of gits that deserve a dustin’. And eager as I am to put them out of their collective misery, I was thinkin’ your goody two-shoes of a Slayer might want a piece of the action. So where can I find the bint?”

“Hey, you take that back, blood breath! She’s not a bint, whatever that is,” Xander said still feeling like he should jump in.

“And again you open your mouth and tie your tongue in knots trying to speak. Really, old man, did you teach these children nothing about proper English?” Spike said turning to an increasingly flustered Giles.

“Even if I were to believe your outrageous boast about wanting to terminate the existence of the vampires residing herein, I wouldn’t just give over my charge to you. Not with your infamy based on killing her kind.” Giles took a step back and leaned against the bars behind him.

“Bloody hell, you lot are infuriating. Fine then, I’ll find her on my own. Not like it’ll be too difficult. Thank you for your enlightening anecdotes. Bleed merrily!”

And with that Spike left the Scoobies behind him and went hunting for his favorite prey: Slayer.

~~~~~*****~~~~~

Buffy and Angel were emerging from Sunnydale High when the dark haired souled vampire suddenly froze and grabbed Buffy’s arm, restraining her from moving forward.

“What’s your damage, Angel? Decided to have a try at taking me down? Well, I don’t have time now, so rain check, ’kay?” Buffy said and jerked her arm out of his grip adopting a fighting stance, startling Angel out of the trance-like state he’d entered in order to extend his senses.

“No, it’s not that, Buffy. I sensed something and if I’m right you’re in way over your head now.” Angel tried again to grab her shoulder and push her slightly behind him.

“Take your undead hands off me!” she yelled slapping his arms away.

“You heard the lady, Peaches, hands off the merchandise,” a voice said from behind her and Angel vamped out. Buffy turned only to meet a pair of bluer than blue eyes that she felt could see right through her.

“You won’t get what you want, Spike,” Angel growled, trying to seem even more imposing due to the height difference between himself and the other two present.

“And what is it that I want Angelus, since you know me so well and all?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow and a disbelieving look on his face.

“You won’t kill this Slayer,” Angel proclaimed with finality.

“Fascinating as this testosterone comparing match is, who the hell are you and what makes you think you can kill me?” Buffy took out a stake and twirled it in her hand to prove her point. “In the end you all dust the same.”

“First, who said anything about me wanting you dead except that poncy bugger trying to defend a chit stronger than himself? Second, not ALL vamps dust the same as you well know. I seem to recall seeing the Master’s bones recently.” He took a step back, avoiding Buffy as she lunged towards him and tripping her at the same time. Carried by his momentum, he kicked backward, catching Angel’s kneecap as he tried to take advantage of his distraction. “Come on! I didn’t come here to fight you, I came to join you.” That stopped both the Slayer and Angel in their tracks.

“What do you mean join?” asked Angel as his hand was once again slapped away when he tried to help Buffy stand up.

“Fight the good fight, help the white hats, stray from my path of evil, whatever you want to call it.” He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, speaking as the smoke billowed out of his mouth, seemingly giving his words a visible form. “I want to take down that overbearing git Absalom, the tyke that thinks he’s king, Colin and all the rest of the pathetic excuses for vampires that call this town home.” He took another drag of the cigarette and started blowing rings in the night air.

“Why? What is it with you vamps all of a sudden? Is teaming up with the Slayer the new kink?” Buffy asked, furious that everybody seemed to want in on her fight.

“No, but now that you mention it.” Spike leered, his hands going to his pockets and outlining the hard-on Buffy was fighting not to notice.

“You’re lying, this is a trap,” Angel stated with finality, his hands going to his own hair to check it for damage. Thankfully, everything was still in place.

“I’m the liar of the family now? I wonder how Lawson is doing these days. Do you know?” At Buffy’s puzzled look, he decided to expand, “Lawson is a guy Angelus here turned back during world war two. All souled up and still a poofter.”

“I had a very good reason for that.” Angel tried to silence Spike with an uppercut but his fist met only air. The retaliatory punch to the back of the neck sent him sprawling, though. Finding his attack foiled, he decided to reassess the young upstart and he straightened up, casually prepared for anything.

“Are you two done yet?” Seeing Angel’s contrite look and Spike’s noncommittal shrug, she threw her hands up in desperation. “Can we just go rescue my friends now or should I get a ruler so you two can measure up some more?”

Grinning widely Spike extended his hand towards where the vampire lair was. “I like you, you have spunk. It would make a fight with you much more enjoyable.” Seeing her tensed back and clenched fists, he hastily added, “But we’ve settled on a truce, right? I help you lot get rid of that lot and you leave ol’ Spike and Dru to unlive another day.”

“Dru, who the hell is Dru?” Buffy asked with suspicion clearly showing on her face.

“Why don’t you ask soul-boy over there about that little bit of information as well? He’s the one that made her. Then she made me and became my salvation, my Princess, my ripe wicked Plum,” Spike said with a far away look tinged with just a bit of sadness.

“Did she dump you again, William? Is that the reason for all this?” Angel sneered, trying to make Buffy see that the vampire before them was less than nothing and deserved to be put down.

“She wants to raise her precious Great-Granddaddy. And I’m betting she wants to see what alley rats you’ve been eating recently. By the way, when did you get from that to staking the Bitch and helping the Slayer?”

“I’m the Chosen Champion of the Powers that Be,” Angel recited proudly only to be stopped by Spike’s gales of laughter.

“You’re what? Are you sure that Dru’s craziness comes just from the torture you inflicted and not from your tainted blood? You pompous git, there is just one Chosen One and she’s a bird. She’s the Slayer and she’s standing right next to you, you pillock. What, was you torturing, raping, sodomizing and finally killing that gipsy bint part of the Powers’ plan?” After saying that, Spike evaded another attack by an enraged Angel, blocking his fist and jumping over the leg that was supposed to topple him. Jumping back, he grinned, continuing his diatribe, “So is this how you help the Slayer? Try to kill the ones that want to throw in their lot with hers?”

Buffy ended the escalading fight by getting Angel in a headlock. “Is what he’s saying true?” she asked, and the coldness of her voice sent a shiver of foreboding down Spike’s back. For a split second he almost felt sorry for Peaches, but just for one second.

“Let me go Buffy, we’re on the same side,” Angel tried to plead with her.

“Is. It. True?” she ground our through clenched teeth.

“I can explain-”

Buffy shoved Angel away in disgust and put a foot on his chest when he rolled over. “We are so over it’s not even funny.”

His pleading eyes and tortured look tried to soften the scarily cold Slayer. “It was in the past. Each day I have to atone for my sins and I cannot change who Angelus was. But I’m not him anymore; I’m Angel and I have a soul.”

“So that’s the rot you keep tellin’ people these days? That Angelus and you are two different people? That’s bollocks and you know it. You’re the same old Angelus with a new toy. And Lawson and that boy you drank in China back when you tried to prove to us the soul wasn’t gonna change you proves my point.”

“You what?” Buffy asked with horror filling her eyes.

“He ate someone during the Boxer Rebellion trying to prove to the old Bitch that they could still shag and kill. I’m guessin’ that’s another thing he didn’t tell you lot. So how’s the soul making you do good, Peaches?”

“And why were you there? You killed a Slayer then and I heard you killed another one in New York twenty years ago.”

Buffy turned her eyes on Spike, reappraising him as a greater threat. He shrugged again.

“I did at that. Drank the first and snapped the second one’s neck. I’m evil, it’s what I do. But I never lie about what my intentions are and I’m not gonna turn on you, Slayer. I need your help to get my Princess back and that’s worth more than the fame offing you would bring me. I have enough fame as the youngest Master Vampire, the only one to off two Slayers in a century and all that rot.”

“Once you start something you don’t stop until everything is dead in your path, Spike, why should we believe you?” Angel protested again, feeling Buffy’s foot grow a little lax on his chest.

“That’s right, Peaches. And once I promise something, I keep my promises. I want you to help me stop the Master’s resurrection and to get my Dru back. After that I promise I’m out of your hair, Slayer.”

Looking between the two vampires Buffy tried to decide who to believe and what she wanted to do from now on. She knew that her choice would mean more than what was going to happen with the Master’s minions and she wondered if she was ready for all it entailed.

The last part of this story, beta: Mari. Also, there will be a sequel one day.


~~~***~~~***~~~


“Actually, you know what?” Buffy said moving away from Angel as he got back up, “I don’t want anything to do with either of you. This is my fight and you can dust each other for all I care.”



“This is bloody priceless. Lemme guess, the Slayer death wish is strong with this one.” This stopped Buffy in her tracks and she turned to face the blond vampire.



“What do you mean, death wish, I don’t have a death wish,” she all but snarled at him.



“Oh no, Goldilocks? Lemme guess some more then. Stop me when I get to somethin’ that’s not true. You just pissed off your family and friends in order to get them to leave you alone to do your solitary duty. All those idiots the Annoying One’s goons are holdin’ in cages should never have been in danger. This is your fight and your death. Any of this sounds familiar?” Spike asked smirking.



“So what if I did, that doesn’t mean I have a death wish. I just want them out of harm’s way.”



“The Slayer should do her duty, that’s what I’m here to help her with. All those others are just clouding her judgment, anyway,” Angel decided to add to the conversation.



“Really, Peaches? And exactly how did you come by this grand knowledge of yours? Of the two of us, which one is the Slayer of Slayers and who spent the better part of the last century researchin’ the Chosen birds? Or does decidin’ you’re the best thing since the wheel grant you some obscure knowledge that escapes us mere not-quite-mortals?” Spike said starting to laugh at his elder again.



“Shut up, Angel, this doesn’t concern you,” Buffy barked without even bothering to look at the increasingly irate souled vampire.



“You heard the lady, this is a talk between professionals, not broodin’ gits that should only discuss rat fricassee,” Spike threw over his shoulder, keeping eye contact with the Slayer as she approached him. “Listen, kitten, all this noble talk about not endangerin’ those around you and lookin’ out for everyone but yourself? That’s a clear sign of the death wish. That’s how I was able to get the other two before you. Want something to protect? Protect the next bird that’s supposed to get chosen after you.” Spike smiled a bit when his words registered with the Slayer.



“What?” was all Angel could say, never having thought of things from that point of view before.



“Look, you think this life is so bad? Wanna save someone? Want the next chit that’s all cozy and ignorant of the things that go bump in the night to wake up and have to do this everyday? That’s one of the people you wanna save. All your friends and family? Good choices also. There’s nothin’ more important than family,” Spike continued in a more subdued tone and with a slightly far away look. “So stop bein’ the Bitch Ice Queen and let others help. That’s what’s gonna keep you alive.”



Both Angel and Buffy had nothing to say to that, one surprised at the young upstart’s words and the other at how close to home his words struck.



“Now, are we gonna rescue all those do-gooders or are you still too stubborn to accept help?”



“Ok, let’s go,” Buffy said meekly.



~~~***~~~



Spike strolled into the lair of the Annointed One like he owned the place, going straight for the cages in the back holding the humans. Once there he closed the doors behind him and staked the two vampire guards.



“Listen up, you gits. Despite all your ramblings, I was able to find your precious little Slayer and got myself a truce. In about a couple of minutes all hell’s about to break loose. Now, you can either try to help, get out of the way, or stay in these cells ‘til it’s all good and done. Now, what’s it gonna be?”



“You’re lying, you miscreant. My Slayer would never work with the likes of you,” Giles retorted full of righteous pride, but a part of him silently wished Spike told the truth.



“I believe you,” interjected Miss Calendar and she continued to speak over the protestations of the other Scoobies. “If you’ll let us out, we’ll help however we can.”



“I don’t care who made deals with who, just get us the hell out of here. The filth is unbearable,” was what Cordelia felt like she had to add to the discussion.



“Right, then.” Spike threw the keys to the doors to Jenny and walked back through the doors, uncaring what they did next.



The outer doors flew open just as Spike positioned himself next to some minions who were planning their next night’s feeding party, revealing Buffy with a stake in each hand and a chilling smile on her face. “You guys asked for take-out?”



At the same time, Angel dropped from the roof on top of the vampires that were preparing the upper levels for the coming sacrifice.



“Kill them both, they must not interfere with the Master’s return!” Absalom bellowed, looking around for a weapon to use against the Slayer.



Minions threw themselves indiscriminately at Buffy while Spike dusted his nearest targets and tried to get to Drusilla. Angel managed to gain the upper hand against his foes, but was thrown down by an unexpected hit with a crowbar from behind, landing right by his insane childe.



“Daddy, you came on such a wonderful day. Too bad my Knight is lost to me, lost, lost, lost. But you’ll take care of Princess, won’t you, Daddy?” Dru cheerfully said, clapping and smiling at her long lost sire.



“I’m sorry, Dru, but-”



“Get away from her, you Poofter. She’s my ripe wicked plum,” Spike shouted at him, dusting the last of the vamps between him and his quarry.



“Bad doggie, you don’t get to play with Princess anymore. Miss Edith is mighty cross with you. Kill him, Daddy, kill him before the Sunshine gets him.”



“Look, Spike, maybe it would be best-”



“Bloody hell, who cares what you think? Run off to your white hat friends and leave us alone, like you have all these decades. You don’t have any right to dictate anything anymore.” With that said, Spike launched himself at Angel and the two started fighting like they’d been yearning to all night.



After receiving a few punches and a kick to the shin, Spike managed to gain the upper hand, smashing Angel’s nose with a well-placed kick and then jumping on top of him, pummeling him with a series of punches that left the taller vampire unconscious. Just when he was about to leave his grand-sire and focus on Dru, the last thing Spike had expected happened.



Dru started hitting Spike with a viciousness he’d never seen in her, taking him by surprise and overpowering him. She slashed at his face with her talons, embedded her fangs in his arm and kicked him in the groin. Had it been any other, Spike would have probably retaliated and won, but this was Dru. So, instead of fighting back, he felt like he was watching himself be defeated by the one he had dedicated his unlife to. The look on her face was unlike any he had seen in the decades spent by her side. She wasn’t listening to pixies or any of that, she just wanted to hurt him and hurt him plenty for attacking Angel. In a seldom-displayed moment of lucidity, she spoke to the now bloodied William.



“You are dust to me now, Spike. I never want to see you again. I’m going away with Daddy and if you try to follow us, I’ll be mighty cross. You’re fighting on her side now,” she said spitting in her former lover’s face.



Bloody hell, there she goes again with the accusations. Can’t she give a bloke a breather?



“But, Princess, I only did it for you! Let me make it up to you, Dru, please,” Spike pleaded, ignoring the aches and pains his sire had inflicted on him. His mind was still only partly aware of his body, somewhat detached like in a dream.



“Then kill the Slayer.” Dru watched his face as his poorly concealed emotions flickered over it.



Soddin’ hell, she wants me to do what, now? She’s kickin’ me six ways to Sunday to protect her precious Daddy and she wants me to break my bloody word to do what? Watch her shag the Poofter right back into the family? It’s not like she wouldn’t have taken Peaches back hadn’t it been for Darla and Miss Edith telling her she’s off her bloody gourd. She knows that in all this time, I haven’t gone back on my promises and now she wants to take that away from me?



“I promised, kitten. You know I can’t break my promise. If you care for me, don’t ask me to back down on my word.”



“Kill her or that’s it,” Dru proclaimed with the same clarity that had become chillingly apparent throughout the discussion.



“I… I can’t.” Spike let his arms fall at his side and lowered his head in defeat. However much he loved her, the thought of giving up this last bit of himself to her was unbearable. Sure, he could break the truce with the Slayer in a proverbial heartbeat, but only if he decided to. To have Drusilla ask this of him was the ultimate humiliation, hurting even worse than her attack in defence of her Daddy.



“Then this is the end, Spike. Good bye. Maybe we can still be friends,” Dru added with an innocence that belied her game-face and the blood dripping from her talons and down her chin. “Maybe we can have a grand reunion when you bring us the Slayer’s heart to play with. Miss Edith would so love a pretty little heart for her tea party.” Spike recognized the end of Drusilla’s lucidity in her eyes.



“Us, kitten?” Spike asked in a shaky voice.



“Daddy and me. We’ll have a grand time together, like before, but without Grand-mummy. I’ll make his skin sing a pretty little blood song for her.” And with that, Dru helped Angel up and supported him as they made their way past the piles of dust left in the Slayer’s wake right out the door, leaving a heartbroken Spike behind her without even glancing at him one last time. Angel looked just once at Buffy, but shook his head and continued walking with Drusilla.



All the Scoobies had witnessed the last part, since they had just gotten out of their cages and were scanning the lair for more threats. Despite everything they had heard and seen about vampires, the scene had left them speechless and even saddened for the vampire collapsed on the ground in obvious grief.



Meanwhile, Buffy was just disposing of Absolom after they had fought throughout the whole drama unfolding not a few feet away. With that taken care of, the Slayer proceeded to smash the Master’s bones to bits using a large hammer, hitting over and over again, until all her fears and despair left her, finally collapsing from both physical and mental exhaustion.



Not one of those left standing after the battle could think of a single thing to say, the victory tasting like ash in their mouths.



Giles and Jenny went to Buffy’s side and helped her get up from where she lay looking listlessly at the remains of the Master. They started talking to her in soothing tones, trying to bring her out of her stupor. On the other side of the room, Spike’s mind started working again, albeit he was still in shock.



He had just lost his everything, his salvation, his reason for existing. There was nothing for him, now. Except…



Slowly, Spike rose from his position, straightening out his back and surveying the scene with his eyes until he located the Slayer from where the Scoobies had all gathered to comfort her.



“You!” he bellowed. “You’re the one to blame for all of this. Were it not for you, she wouldn’t have left. It’s your fault, you and your stupid hair!”



His outburst startled the Scoobies and brought Buffy back into action. Before she could figure out what he meant, though, Xander took it upon himself to handle the distraught vampire.



“What do you mean, Blood Breath, the psycho leaving you? That was so not her fault it’s not even funny. You came in here all swagger and stuff and you lost her, don’t go blaming the Buffster for your mistakes.”



“What do you want, Spike?” Buffy answered, surprised that dealing with him came so natural, it didn’t even require the energy she felt she no longer had.



“If it wasn’t for you and this bloody town, none of this would have happened. And if you’d done your part for the good of everyone and dusted the Poofter when you first saw him, we’d all be right as rain. But you had to ruin everythin’!” Spike continued fuming, ignoring everyone except the one he held responsible for his disaster. “On account of me not goin’ back on my word, I’ll let you go this time, but I’ll be back, and when I do, you and me – we’re gonna have us a nice little fight to the death: yours!” His eyes and hers met and held, neither yielding, both in pain and for an instant, they recognized their equal in each other. The moment didn’t last, however, as neither of them was ready to see the other one as anything else but an enemy.



“I’d like to see you try, Captain Peroxide!” Buffy retorted without even thinking, her mind still reeling from the day’s events.



“You’ll regret those words someday, Slayer. Until then…” Spike disappeared in a blur of black leather out the broken door of the lair and into the night.



“Well, that was something,” Giles mused partly to himself. He felt quite a bit of dread for the return of the famed Slayer of Slayers, so he made a mental note to increase Buffy’s training program. If she was destined to fight it out with him, he would make sure she was prepared.



“Man, what was up with that guy, apart from his out-dated look?” Cordelia asked without anybody caring one bit what she was saying.



Buffy was left staring after Spike. She couldn’t quite admit it even to herself, but part of her was sorry he was gone. In just a short time, he had managed to discover more about herself than she even thought possible. Now, she couldn’t even get to see what all the fuss was about his fighting skills. He’ll be back, though, someday. And I’ll be ready for you, Spike. Looking around to see if anybody caught her staring, she finally noticed someone was missing.




“Guys, where is Angel?” Receiving no answer, she asked again. “Seriously, where is Angel?” Her eyes landed squarely on Xander who seemed more willing to share what he knew.



“Buff, he kinda went with the crazy woman Spike was screaming about. They just got up and left after Bleach Boy beat the crap out of Deadboy and the loony attacked Spike.” Xander shrugged, not really sorry for Angel’s departure. “I guess they had a thing.” The news chilled Buffy’s heart. She had spent the time since her return to Sunnydale trying to get rid of him, but now that he was gone, she felt sorry and alone. She tried to harden herself and dismiss his departure as something unimportant, but Spike’s words haunted her, reminding her that a lonely Slayer is a dead Slayer. She looked at the others again and didn’t see the hostility she had tried to create. Realizing what she had almost lost nearly brought her to tears.



“Thank you, guys and sorry about earlier. I was… confused. Friends?” she asked full of hope, looking at the assembled Scoobies.



Both Xander and Willow hurried to answer her by hugging her tight and the three teenagers shared a moment of closeness. Cordelia just shrugged and tried to warm herself by rubbing her arms. Giles raised his eyes to meet Jenny’s and she smiled benevolently at the pride he saw in the Brit’s eyes. Perhaps all will be well, Giles dared hope to himself.



“Let me get you home, Buffy. We’ll all talk more about this tomorrow at the library. Tonight was taxing enough as it was.” Giles then proceeded in herding everyone out and they all made their way back to their respective homes. A new chapter was starting in Sunnydale’s existence.