The fabulous banner is by the awesomely talented Ben Rostock.

Chapter 5

She checked her cell once he had gone and saw that the call had been from her mother. Joyce must have been worried about her. She hit the speed dial.

“Hey, Mom, it’s me. I know it’s late, but I really am on my way home right now.”

“Buffy!” Joyce exclaimed. “Oh, I’m so glad you called back! I was just going to call Mr. Giles.”

Buffy tensed. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I just...well, you said to call if I wasn’t sure...”

“Sure of what?”

“Did you forget your study date for history? She’s here now. Really, Buffy! It’s not polite to ask someone to do you a favor and then just blow them off like that, as you children say.”

“I don’t have a...Mom! Did you let her in?” Buffy started to run home as fast as she could, the phone still at her ear.

“No, I asked her to wait. I promised you I wouldn’t ask anyone in until I checked with you or Mr. Giles. But it’s so rude to leave her outside like this!” Joyce said plaintively.

“Mom, she lied! Willow’s the only one tutoring me. Is this person still there?”

“Why...why, no,” said Joyce in surprise and Buffy guessed she was looking out the window. “She’s gone! Why would she do that? Do you think I offended her by asking her to wait?”

“No,” said Buffy grimly. “She knew you’d be calling someone and she wouldn’t be allowed in.”

“But...She said Willow was helping you on the Civil War, but she was going to help with the War of Independence because her own family went back to those days.”

“She probably goes back to those days. Mom, she’s a vamp! Only a vamp would be trying to trick her way into the house like that. They have to be invited in, remember? What did she look like?”

“Long blonde hair. Very pretty. But her eyes were strange. They were...old. Maybe that’s why I remembered I promised to call you before letting her in. They made me nervous.”

“Darla!”

“Why, yes! She did say her name was Darla. I’d almost forgotten that!”

“She’s dangerous! She’s the worst, she and the Master! Oh, Mom! She must have meant to kill you!”

“Oh, my goodness! You and Mr. Giles weren’t joking, were you? It’s all true! Buffy, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“It’s not like I had a choice about it, Mom!”

The reality of it had sunk in for Joyce now, especially when Buffy rushed right up to her bedroom the minute she got home, then came running back down with the crossbow she had snatched out of the locked weapons box in her room. Seeing the grim ferocity with which Buffy made a careful circuit of the house underlined the danger. As much as she wanted to delude herself to the truth, Joyce couldn’t anymore. It took Buffy a long time to calm her down and they spent most of the night talking.

They should have done this before, Buffy realized. If it hadn’t been for Spike’s casual warning, tossed over his shoulder just as a careless afterthought, she would never have alerted her mother and Joyce would have been dead right now. It was a tightrope walk, making sure Joyce was aware of how serious things were while at the same time trying to downplay the danger to Buffy herself because that might panic her mother. But Buffy managed it and went to bed satisfied that Joyce would be careful in the future without being racked with worry.

She had called Giles, Willow and Xander the moment she finished her scan around the grounds to warn them that they too might be targeted and they had all promised to be on the lookout.

“But you’re the primary target, Buffy,” warned Giles. “Please take a crossbow with you on patrol for a while, if only to put my mind at ease. I know you think that’s not fighting fair, but...”

“I don’t care about that with Darla,” growled Buffy. “Going after my Mom wasn’t fighting fair! I’ll plug her the minute I see her, just like shooting a rattlesnake!”

She took the crossbow with her on patrol, but the next couple of nights were uneventful. There was no sign of Darla or any of the Order. She didn’t bag anything but a couple of newly risen fledglings just heaving themselves out of their graves. Even Spike didn’t show and she wondered whether, now that she had ‘graduated’, he thought she didn’t need any more practice.

She was hunting Darla. Buffy admitted that to herself. The Master was out of her reach, hidden somewhere in that maze of passages below the mausoleum. Spike might have taken her to him, but Spike was a vamp and, however much he might like to see the show, he wouldn’t betray his kind to that extent. Anyway, it was Darla who she was after. The Master might have egged Darla on to attack her mother, but she didn’t need telling that Darla had relished the prospect. Buffy was going to make her pay for the attempt.

Spike had unwittingly taught her about the difference in vamp signatures. Once she had learned to distinguish his, it wasn’t much of a leap to figure out others. She homed in on Darla’s signature outside the house and recognized it from the night they had fought in the mausoleum. Buffy had her senses tuned now to pick it up. Unlike the Master who had his food brought to him, Darla had to come out to feed.

A couple of nights later she picked up Darla’s vibe. Buffy grinned tightly in triumph.

It was late, the whole town asleep and even the Bronze closed. But tomorrow was the weekend and Buffy could stay out as long as she liked. Which was why she was out hunting at three in the morning.

The vibe she trailed led to the Bronze. Darla must have suckered some poor victim into it. The doors were locked of course. Buffy climbed the fire stairs and broke in through the roof. Once inside, she slid silently down the stairs.

“I knew you’d come,” a soft voice purred behind her as she reached the bottom. Buffy whirled to see Darla smirking at her from the other side of the Bronze. “I knew all I had to do was to leave a trail and you would sniff it out like the bitch you are.”

Buffy whipped up her crossbow. “Well, this bitch is gonna dust you. You shouldn’t have gone after my mother!”

“Ooh, scary.” Darla whipped two pistols from behind her back, one in each hand. “Scarier!”

Buffy’s eyes widened and she backed hurriedly. Darla fired. Buffy did a diving shoulder roll over a pool table and took cover behind it.

“Did you think I didn’t see you swaggering around the cemeteries with that bow? But this is real fire power! And, unlike vamps, anywhere on a human is effective, will make you vulnerable to more.” She sighed with satisfaction. “So many body parts, so few bullets. Let's begin with the kneecaps. No fun dancing without them.”

She snapped off a few more rounds. The pool table took a few hits. Buffy popped up with the crossbow and took a shot at Darla. But she was moving and Buffy missed. The bolt hit her only in the abdomen. Darla doubled over, then straightened right back up again.

“See what I mean? Close, but no heart. The heart’s a hard thing to hit even when you’re as accurate a shot as a Slayer.” Darla grabbed the bolt, pulled it out and tossed it aside. “While I just have to get you anywhere, then stroll up and drill you right between the eyes while you’re still in shock from the pain and the bloodloss.”

Buffy suddenly caught sight of Spike strolling casually down the stairs behind Darla. She winced. Darla with those pistols was bad enough, but the two of them together coming after her was really bad news.

“Glocks?” said Spike incredulously. “Sod it, Darla! That’s cheating!”

To Buffy’s surprise, Darla spun to stare at him. “Spike? What are you doing here?”

“Word got around about Nest,” shrugged Spike. “Came for the show. Been following you around a couple of days. What are those? Glock 18s? Christ, machine pistols, not even regular ones! Talk about overkill! I didn’t think they handed those out to civilians.”

“They don’t. It’s all in who you eat. I was told these work really well in enclosed spaces like this.” She glared at the condemnatory look on his face. “There’s no need to be so high and mighty about it! You’re the one who prides himself on his fighting skills. I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it playing war games.”

“Prefer to play with something else?”

Darla grinned. “Exactly. So I use what works. And bullets work really well on humans. Even Slayers. If you came for the show, just take a seat and let me get on with it.”

“Not much of a show that’ll be,” said Spike, disgusted. “Just spray her with lead? What a gyp! Pfft!”

It was a scornful, contemptuous sound and Darla bridled.

“You’re the one who likes risking your life dancing with Slayers. I just like them dead. Like stomping a roach. This place had the right idea a while back with that fumigation party they threw.”

“’S not right. Passing up a chance at a worthy opponent. How often do we get one? It’s a bloody waste!”

“Oh, God! Dru’s knight’s back!” Darla rolled her eyes. “And where’s Dru? Fucking some demon with slime dripping from his antlers?”

Spike’s eyes went hot and dangerous. Darla gave him a cruel smile.

“Maybe she thinks it’s a step up from you,” she mocked.

Spike’s eyes narrowed. Buffy, who had been listening with interest, shook her head. That wasn’t going to go over without retaliation.

“Angelus is dead,” Spike said. His voice was coldly, softly vicious.

Darla jerked around. “What?”

“Your precious Angelus got himself dusted. It was easy. He was a real walkover. Just came strolling up like some dumb rube and spssh! Gone.”

“Who did it? Her? I’ll kill her!” screamed Darla.

Spike snarled. “She’s mine!”

“You and your damned obsession with Slayers! Well then, fucking do her! I don’t care who does it as long as she’s dead!”

“Nah. She dusted Angelus. Gives me the warm fuzzies, that does. Gonna keep her around for a while just for that.”

“You bastard! You always hated him! Get out of my way!”

She ran towards the pool table Buffy was using as cover, the machine pistols spitting a hail of bullets. Buffy rolled desperately, achieved her feet and flung herself towards a heavy counter that promised more protection.

“Shoot you in the stomach,” Darla was muttering. “You’ll die slow. And I’ll watch you every second. I’ll make it stretch out as long as possible.”

Buffy threw herself over the top of the counter and hugged the floor behind it.

“What are you doing?” Darla shrieked suddenly. “Spike, let go!”

Buffy stuck her head cautiously around the side of the counter. Spike had grabbed Darla’s arm. She spun on him, hissing like a snake.

“You’re asking to get shot yourself!” she spat. “Bullets won’t kill you, but they’ll hurt like hell!”

She turned a Glock on him and in that moment Spike staked her with the crossbow bolt that she had flung away and that he had scooped from the ground.

Darla cried out in pain, her eyes widening in shock and amazement.

“Spike?” she breathed in absolute disbelief, then fell to the floor and burst into ash.

“Told you,” said Spike, looking down at the little pile of dust. “She’s mine.”

He looked up to where Buffy was getting to her feet, her jaw hanging. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, Buffy’s face glazed with astonishment, Spike’s utterly expressionless.

“Been a kick, Slayer,” he said abruptly and was up the stairs and gone before she got her wits together.

***

“Spike dusted her?” exclaimed Giles.

He and Willow and Xander all looked totally pole-axed. Buffy felt the same way.

“They had an argument,” she said weakly.

“That must have been some argument,” muttered Willow.

“The Master isn’t going to take this well,” said Giles. “According to my information, Darla was his special pet. I’d be especially careful out there, Buffy.”

“Yeah.”

But nothing happened. No retaliatory action was taken against Buffy and things went on as usual with Buffy taking out vamps on patrol and weird things happening at the high school. That was starting to become the norm.

Willow and Xander were relieved, but both Buffy and Giles were worried.

“He’s waiting for something,” Giles said. “Maybe there’s another prophecy. Something we don’t know about.”

He threw himself into research. Jenny Calendar, the computer teacher at the school, helped him. She was a techno-pagan apparently, a witch, and she knew computers the way Giles knew books. The two of them were getting very cosy and Buffy thought there was something more than just research going on there. Giles had certainly told her about Buffy being a Slayer, or maybe Jenny had just found out by herself.

“But she’s so little,” Buffy heard Jenny say to Giles once. “And so young. It doesn’t seem right.”

“She’s the Chosen One.” Giles was very big on that. “She’s very good,” he said proudly. “She managed to get rid of the Master’s Vessel and that Lothos chap in L.A. and even Angelus who was part of the Scourge of Europe.”

Buffy glanced around to smile at Giles and caught an odd flash of relief pass over Jenny’s face.

“Angelus is dust?” Jenny looked as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“You know of him?” said Giles in surprise and Jenny hunched a shoulder awkwardly.

“My family had history with him.”

Deaths, that meant. Giles looked as if he were dying to ask more and even Buffy was curious. But the withdrawn expression on Jenny’s face said that she didn’t want to talk about it.

The two of them went on researching, Giles through his books and Jenny on the computer. So far, they had come up with nothing.

Buffy was coming up empty as well. She had started to ask vamps about the Master’s plans before she dusted them, but all she got for her pains was a defiant ‘He’ll get you in the end!’ flung at her. She didn’t think it was just bravado: they really seemed to know nothing. If the Master was up to something, he was keeping it to himself.

Even Spike was not around to tell her. She hadn’t seen him since he dusted Darla. Buffy couldn’t understand why he had done that. By that one act, he had cast himself beyond the pale. Personal vendettas that ended in death were not uncommon among demons, but Spike had saved a Slayer by that kill and that was not forgivable in the demon world. It had been an unprecedented thing to do, and the Master and every other demon would be after him in spades if they knew.

He was probably staying low until he was sure the word hadn’t got around. Buffy was certainly not going to tell anyone. Whether he had lost his temper with Darla when she had taunted him about Dru or whether he was just determined to keep Buffy for his third Slayer kill, he had still ended up saving her from a very dangerous situation. Whatever the reason, he had protected her. She would therefore protect him.

Maybe he had even left Sunnydale. It would be better if he had. Strangely enough, she found herself missing him. He was a vamp and evil and dangerous as hell, but she had been able to talk to him about the Slayer things that no one else really understood, not even Giles.

The school year was almost over. Buffy had spent the first two-thirds of it at Hemery High in L.A. and only the last third at Sunnydale High but, what with all the goings on, her time here seemed to have passed in a flash. The Spring Fling was planned for this Saturday. No one had asked her yet other than Xander, who got turned down as kindly as possible because she still didn’t think of him that way, but Buffy kept hoping someone would.

Thursday an earthquake happened. About 5.1 on the Richter scale. Earthquakes happened in California. No big. But this must have been Giles’ first earthquake and, when she dropped in on him on Friday, he was freaking.

She stopped just outside the library doors, hearing Jenny’s voice as well.

“It’s not just the earthquake,” Giles was saying to Jenny. “It’s a lot of other things as well.”

“I saw,” Jenny agreed. She sounded worried too. “You know how people are always sending stuff my way because they know the occult's my turf? I’ve been checking the ’Net. There’s been a lot of weird portents. Unnatural births, lakes boiling, that kind of thing. That’s apocalypse stuff. The end seems pretty seriously nigh. But this! It can’t be! You have to be wrong. Have you verified the text, Rupert?”

“I've checked it against all my other volumes. It's very real.”

“Prophecies are tricky. You could be reading it wrong.”

“I wish to God I were!” Giles’ voice was agonized. “But it's very plain! Tomorrow night Buffy will face the Master and she will die.”

Buffy gasped.

“There must be a way around it,” Jenny insisted. “Look for one, Rupert!”

“I did! There’s none! This is the Pergamum Codex. There is nothing in it that does not come to pass. If she faces him, she will die.”

“Then don’t let her face him!”

“But then the Apocalypse happens and the world ends.”

Buffy wanted to run in and scream ‘I quit, Giles!’ She was only sixteen! She didn’t want to die!

But it looked like they were all gonna die. If Giles was right about the book, there was no out. If she didn’t face the Master, he would open the Hellmouth, the Old Ones would come through and the human world would end. If she did face the Master, he would kill her, open the Hellmouth and ... all the rest of it.

Screwed either way.

It was a pity she and Spike had never gotten to that fight. If he had killed her, he would have had his third notch and another Slayer would have been called in her place, one who didn’t have fatal prophecies written about her in hateful codexes.

Thinking about Spike though stiffened her spine. ‘You’re a warrior. You won’t quit.’ Damned if she was going to have less courage than he. He’d go down fighting and so would she. She wouldn’t be shamed by a vamp!

‘Life demands that you do what’s needful.’ And if what was needful meant dying, well, that was just the way it was. That was her job. That was what she had been Called to do. Sure she hadn’t asked for the job, hadn’t even agreed to it really. But she was the Slayer and going up successfully against Spike, the Master and the Order had made her proud of that. What was happening was a lousy deal, but that was the way it was. She wasn’t gonna cut and run just because the dice had turned against her.

She went home in a mood of fatalistic calm. She hadn’t let Jenny or Giles see her and know that she had overheard. Tomorrow she would face the Master. Things didn’t have to go the way the Codex said. Prophecies were twistier than snakes. Look at that bit with the Harvest! The world had supposed to come to an end then, but she had stopped it. So what if everything in the Codex had come true so far? There was always a first time, right?

Saturday came and Buffy stayed home and gloomed, waiting for the night and its terrors. Even though no one had asked her to the dance, Joyce had bought her the pretty prom dress that Buffy had been eyeing in the mall. Joyce wanted her to go to the dance even if she didn’t have a date. Joyce had met Buffy’s father when she had gone to a college dance alone. It was sweet of her Mom to surprise her with the dress like that. The white glimmer of it seemed to reproach her as it hung on the door of her closet untouched.

“Buffy!” Joyce called suddenly from the living room. “Come look at the news! Willow’s on it!”

Buffy raced down. Apparently Willow and Cordelia had walked into the audio-visual room at the high school and found a bunch of students dead. But that wasn’t all, the announcer said. There were killings happening all over Sunnydale and all the bodies had strange marks on their necks.

Vamps. It was the Master of course, taking away her choices, telling her that the killing wouldn’t stop until she came and faced him.

The sun had gone down. Buffy went up and collected her crossbow.

“Buffy, where are you going?” Joyce called from the living room. “You should be dressing for the dance.”

“I’m just going to see Willow,” lied Buffy. “I’ll be back.”

She went to the library instead to tell Giles what she was going to do. She owed him that. He and Jenny were looking at something on the computer screen.

“‘...and the little child will lead them,’” Giles read aloud.

“That’s kind of warm and fuzzy for a message of doom,” said Jenny in surprise.

“Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One, ‘The Slayer will not know him and he will lead her into Hell.’”

“So the kid’s the one, huh?” remarked Buffy and they both jumped and turned, startled. “ Good. I needed someone to lead me to the Master.”

“Buffy, I’m not going to send you out there to die!” Giles exclaimed. “I don’t care what the books say! I defy prophecy! I’m going, not you, and nothing you can say will change my mind.”

“I know,” said Buffy and punched him hard, knocking him out cold.

Jenny dropped onto her knees beside him, then looked up at Buffy. “You fight the Master and you’ll die!”

“Maybe. But if I can take him with me, the Apocalypse won’t happen.”

She left the school and headed towards the cemetery. A little boy was standing outside it, looking lost.

“Help me,” he said plaintively.

Buffy smiled crookedly. “It's okay. I know who you are.”

He looked at her for a moment, then held out his small, cold hand. She took it and he led her into the mausoleum and through the maze of passages to the Master’s lair.

At the entrance to the great vault of the ruined church, he stopped and pointed, indicating that she should go on, then turned and left the way they had come, leaving her alone. Buffy shrugged, then made her way down to the floor of the cavern below. Rocks and rubble lay on the floor amidst pools and puddles of water. Hundreds of candles were burning, but the cavern was empty.

“Welcome,” said a voice that seemed to come from everywhere.

“Thanks for having me,” said Buffy dryly.

The Master stepped into the light. He was not a pretty sight. Spike had been right when he called him Batface. But he had presence.

“Y'know, you really oughta talk to your contractor,” remarked Buffy, glancing around. “Looks like you got some water damage.”

“Oh, fine,” said the Master wearily. “The feeble banter portion of the fight. Why don't we just cut to the...”

Buffy snapped her crossbow up and launched a bolt at him. With lightning reflexes, the Master caught it in mid-flight, right before it struck his heart.

“Nice shot,” he remarked as she hurriedly reloaded. “But you're not going to kill me with that thing.”

“Don't be so sure,” growled Buffy.

“You still don't understand your part in all this, do you?” the Master said, amused. “You are not the hunter. You are the lamb.”

He was suddenly behind her. He knocked the crossbow from her hand as she spun, then grabbed her by the neck, his eyes flashing red. Buffy struck his hand away and whirled to run, then found herself freezing, her body refusing to move. She twisted her head to stare back at the Master in shock. He had raised his hand and was making slow, twisting motions with it. She realized in panic what he had done. He had laid a thrall on her.

“You tried,” he said, coming towards her, taking his time. “It was noble of you. You heard the prophecy that I was about to break free and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures. They don't tell you everything. You're the one that sets me free!” he said triumphantly and gloated for a moment. “If you hadn't come, I couldn't go. Think about that!”

He yanked the collar of her jacket aside, bent and sank his fangs into the vein at the side of her neck. She felt the drain as he drank. Deeply. Taking so much that her heart faltered and her consciousness started to fade. When he finally let her go, she fell heavily onto her knees.

Through the roaring in her ears, she heard him exclaim, “Oh, God! The power!”

Her vision was dimming, but she saw him step to the edge of his confines and push against an invisible field. There was a ripple in the air, then his hand forced through. His confines broke in a burst of light and energy. She realized in horror that it was her blood that had given him the power to break free. Then the world went black and she fell face down into a pool of water.

***

Spike knew the Master was making his move. The Order had streamed out across Sunnydale and were killing at will. He didn’t know whether the Slayer was aware of it.

He ran to the Slayer’s house, but she wasn’t there. He could see Joyce looking worriedly out of the living room window. He tried the school library next, figuring that Buffy might be with the Watcher. Watcher was there all right, but Slayer wasn’t. She had gone to face the Master, he gathered from the explanations Giles and his bird were making to Willow and Xander.

Straight up like that was not the way! Spike could have told her that. Should have. The Master was too powerful. And he was capable of thrall. But maybe Slayers were immune to that.

Hell, he was missing the show! He wanted to be there for the face off.

Watcher and his bunch were trying to figure out where the Hellmouth was, digging through books as usual. They knew that it was next to the Master’s lair, but they didn’t know where that was. Spike did and he headed for it at top speed.

The flash of light that came before he reached it told him that he was too late. Sod it, he had missed all the fun! The Master was loose and that meant that...

“Ah, no!” he groaned, flinging himself into the cavern and seeing the small figure face down in a pool of water. She was dead. Even from here, he could tell that her heart was not beating. The jeans and black leather jacket she was wearing were immaculate. She hadn’t even had a chance to fight. The bugger must have taken her in thrall right away.

“Now that just isn’t fair,” Spike muttered. Best little fighter he had ever seen and she hadn’t been given the opportunity to fight. Thrall was cheating, the way he saw it.

He turned her over gently, holding her protectively in his arms. Protection that was too late. If he had been only a little faster, got here five minutes sooner, maybe he could have done something, kept this from happening.

“Sod it!” he muttered bitterly.

Her body was still warm. She couldn’t have been dead more than a couple of minutes. There was still time, he realized. There was a chance! Drowning. Humans could be brought back from drowning. CPR. That was what was needed.

Never had to do it before—hey, vamp here—but he’d read about it. Breathe air in twice, pump chest fifteen times in ten seconds, keep doing it. Hope it restarted her heart; he didn’t have a defibrillator to jump start it.

He scooped her up, laid her on a clear area of the floor, made sure her airways were clear, then got to work.

“Come on, pet. Breathe. You’re a fighter. So fight.”

There was no immediate response. He kept it up. Spike didn’t give up easy. Then her eyelids flickered.

“Ah,” he said with relief and satisfaction. “There we go.”

Buffy opened her eyes and stared blankly at him. Then she turned her head sharply to one side and coughed out the water in her lungs.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing her breastbone where he had been pushing at it.

“Prolly gonna have a nice bruise there,” Spike grinned. “But, hey, didn’t crack a rib. That’s something, innit?”

“Spike?” she said in surprise, realizing who was bending over her.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“You drowned.”

“You gave me CPR? I thought vamps didn’t breathe.”

“Pfft. Gotta breathe to speak or smoke, right? Just ’cause we don’t have to breathe doesn’t mean we can’t.”

“The Master!” she said suddenly.

“Oh, he’s out. Gone topside and prolly busy opening the Hellmouth right now.”

“Oh, damn. I’ve got to stop him.” She frowned. “The prophecy said he would kill me.”

“Well, technically he did. Your heart stopped. But you know how prophecies are. Often leave out a few things. Like you getting revived.”

“By you.” She looked at him in puzzlement. “Why did you do that?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t seem fair, is all. After all that training, you didn’t even have a chance to fight. Honest to God, Slayer! You can be bloody stupid! Didn’t it even occur to you and the Watcher to think up some sort of plan? No, you just come stomping into the lion’s den.”

“Like to know what kind of plan would have worked,” she muttered resentfully and struggled to her feet. Her Slayer healing was already repairing the damage, he saw with satisfaction.

“No bloody show at all,” he said scornfully. “Just a pushover, you were.”

“Well, stick around,” she growled. “Because I’m so gonna kick his ass!”

She yanked her jacket straight and stomped towards the passageway. Spike followed her, grinning.

“I feel different,” she muttered. “Did you do anything weird to me?”

“Just gave you the kiss of life. Which is plenty weird coming from the undead, if you think about it.” He tilted a sardonic eyebrow at her. “Appreciate the gratitude, by the way.”

“Thanks for saving my life, Spike. Where is he?”

“On the roof of the library.”

“The school library? Why is he there and how’d he get there so fast?”

“Wanted to take a look at the big wide world, I guess. Been cooped up for a long time, y’know. And he just strolled up. The library’s right over us, pet, just a tad to the left.”

Buffy stared at him. “The Master’s lair’s under the school? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked. Watcher, his bird and your mates are all barricaded into the library. I can hear them screaming. Most of the Order’s trying to get at them.”

“Oh, God! I’ve got to...”

“Prioritize, pet. Master’s trying to open the Hellmouth. What comes first?”

“The Master,” she groaned. “Where is the damn Hellmouth? And this time you can’t say that I didn’t ask.”

He grinned at her. “Under the library.”

“What!”

“And the Master’s calling the first of his demons out.”

Buffy ran.

The Master was looking down into the library’s skylight when they got to the roof. A huge, green, three-headed, tentacled demon had burst through the floor below.

The Master clapped his hands idly. “Yes. Come forth, my child. Come into my world.”

“I don't think it's yours just yet,” said Buffy.

The Master stared at her in surprise.

“You're dead!”

“I may be dead, but I'm still pretty. Which is more than I can say for you.”

“You were destined to die! It was written!”

“What can I say? I flunked the written.”

The Master growled and flung out his hand to thrall her once again. “Come here!”

Spike, watching from the roof access door, tensed as Buffy moved forward unresisting. The Master reached to grab her throat.

“You have fruit punch mouth,” remarked Buffy and punched him when he stared in shock. “Aaah, save the hypnosis crap for the tourists. It doesn’t work on me anymore.”

Spike grinned and swung up to sit on top of the roof access from where he had a good view of both the roof and the library below. In the library, the gigantic green demon was going after Giles and his lot. Giles was up on the mezzanine, attacking it with an axe, trying to keep it away from Willow and Jenny. The demon knocked him off the mezzanine. He fell heavily onto a large table below, breaking it. One side of the table fell over onto its end, leaving a gigantic splinter pointing upwards towards the skylight.

‘Now that could be useful,’ thought Spike and looked towards where Buffy and Nest were battling it out.

He saw with pleasure that they were evenly matched. The Master was powerful and experienced. But Buffy was a Slayer and, after all that training, one of the best. The Master couldn’t take her easily. Highly entertained, Spike watched the fight. He knew he was rooting for the wrong side but, hey, she was his Slayer. He had taken time and trouble with her, even brought her back to life when he could have left her dead. She was his. She had become a satisfactory challenge. Worth fighting. Worthy of becoming that third notch on his belt.

Then he frowned. He didn’t want to kill her. What he wanted was for her to really be...his...

And that was an appalling thought!

“The Hellmouth is open,” the Master was saying. “My children are coming. One is already here. My time has come.”

Buffy laughed. Through the skylight, she had seen the upended table below with its huge, pointed splinter.

The Master was offended. “You laugh when my Hell is on Earth?”

“You're that amped about Hell...” Buffy flipped him over her head. “Go there!”

He crashed through the skylight in a shower of glass and was impaled on that giant stake. Buffy watched as he slowly turned into ash until only his skeleton was left.

There was a wail of despair from his minions. Stunned and disoriented by the breaking of their link to him, they fled. Some force yanked the Hellmouth creature back into the portal. The Hellmouth snapped shut and vanished. Giles and the others stumbled to their feet and stared around in amazement.

“I’d crush those bones,” Spike said in a remote voice as he came to stand beside her. “Annoying One could try to resurrect the Master with them if they’re lying around available.”

“Game over,” grinned Buffy. “I won.”

“Swept the board. You did good, Slayer.”

“So do we fight now?”

“No.” He gave her a cool, strange look. “I’m leaving Sunnydale.”

“What? Why?”

“Been away too long. Dru’s due to be getting into trouble right about now.”

“Right. Dru.” She bit her lip. “But I thought you wanted...”

“Do you want us to fight, Slayer?”

“No,” she said. But she didn’t want him to go either, she realized to her horror.

“Broken all the rules so far, we have. But not the worst ones. Gonna get out while the getting’s good.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

But he was gone.

TBC