~*~
Chapter 2
~*~
November 10, 2000. Sunnydale, California
 
It had taken all of Spike’s patience to keep from driving Harmony out of town himself just to see the back of her.  He might have felt sorry for the whining blonde if he thought she had any deep feelings for him.  Spike knew better.  He was the vampire world’s version of the High School football captain, top of the food chain in their world, and Harmony was madly in love with THAT.  If another vamp came into Sunnyhell and knocked Spike off his position as Master Vamp on the Hellmouth, Harmony would drop him like a hot rock.  With any luck, the bird would latch onto some demon running one of those Hollywood studios and never darken his door again.
 
Ever since the dream that had knocked him senseless, he couldn’t bear to see the cheap knockoff of the real blonde beauty who owned his heart.  ‘Guess that’s what I was wantin’ all along; thought it was provin’ to Dru she was wrong about me havin’ a thing for the Slayer.  Way to go showin’ her up that way!’  He had to pick the one fledge with enough surface similarities to try to get his mind off the real object of his affections.  ‘Like thinkin’ some plastic statue of Athena could match an Elgin marble.’  Harmony had the blonde cheerleader look, was the right age, and spoke the snappy California girl talk, but that was the beginning and ending of any similarity.
 
No, Harmony was gone at last.  Judging by the way the human population was acting since all the recent news items revealed what had always been there in front of them, she would do well to find some out-of-the way place to lay low.  All demons would do well to think about such a contingency.
 
To that end, Spike had been busy working on the lower part of his crypt.  He had expanded the living area below and hidden the entrance so that you could only find the trap door via the otherwise empty, and now bottomless, sarcophagus.  Access to Sunnydale’s system of sewers and tunnels, compliments of the late great Mayor Wilkins, had been expanded, allowing a quick retreat, and various hiding places were scattered throughout.  It wasn’t a safe time for a demon, especially one that could not fight a human without being brought to his knees by the chip in his head.
 
Even a busy vamp has time for a Passions break, though, and since Tabitha was getting ready to get a spot of vengeance in, he didn’t think the tunnel project would mind an hour wait.  The TV was small but had the full cable package, even if the company was not aware of it. 
“What the hell?!”  Passions was being pre-empted and from the looks of his channel surfing, so was everything else.  Same thing in one version or another on nearly every channel, so he parked it on CNN and let it play.
 
“Wolf, as you can see the damage is extensive.”  Christiane Amanpour looked serious to the point of being dour.  “I’ve seen a lot of carnage in this region, but nothing on a scale like this.  The entire Air Calvary Regiment was, well, …murdered doesn’t even begin to cover this.”  The camera panned to the retrieval squad with a couple of members clearly becoming sick in a ditch near the covered corpses.  “The sheer savagery is unimaginable.”
 
Blitzer’s placid expression didn’t change. ‘Bugger has as few facial expressions as Peaches,’ Spike mused.
 
“There is a top team from the Pentagon due to arrive within the hour to see what information can be gleaned from the security cameras but at this point in time no one seems to have any idea what group is responsible.  No known terror group is stepping forth to take credit.  We’ll keep on this and get back to you when we have more information.  Wolf, back to you.”
 
“Thank you, Christiane.  We will be switching to the White House Press room for a briefing within minutes.  This shocking story has brought Washington to a standstill.  A bit of background on this highly decorated group of young soldiers here.  The Regiment executed an estimated 12,500 patrols in the Bosnian and Serbian regions.  They were responsible for 480 weapon storage site inspections, supervising the removal of over 12,000 mines.  The Regiment has served one of the longest tours of most military units deployed to this troubled area.  We repeat, the entire Regiment was discovered dead in a scene some are describing as being a charnel house of blood.”
 
“Bugger!”  Spike had seen many a bloodbath, taken part in his fair share for that matter, but regular viewers of daytime television weren’t used to what his eyes took in on the screen.  “Best get back below, looks like it’s only going to get worse.  Least Red’s girlie doesn’t need to worry ‘bout being a demon after the other night.  Was worth the twinge it gave me, even if the Slayer didn’t see the reasonin’ behind it.”
 
~~~  
Tara smiled as Davey West ambled to her table of herbal remedies.  For some reason, seeing the young man who had every reason for bitterness yet never had a less than sunny disposition always made her day brighter.  “Looking for anything special, Davey?”
 
“Hi, Tara!  Gorgeous day isn’t it?  Always makes me glad to live in California when November can look like this.”
 
“You’re right.  We tend to take it for granted after we live here a while, but I remember some cold Novembers growing up.”
 
“Me too.  I was raised in Montana, but Mom and Dad moved us out here to get better medical care for me as soon as they knew it was Proteus Syndrome.  Not that they could do anything for me either, but, hey, the beach is just a short drive away and we’ve got all this sun!”
 
“What can I get for you?”
 
“Well, ginger, of course--gotta keep that blood thin,” he grinned at her in a lopsided, pathetic parody of joy.  “I heard there are some vegetable extracts that help too, if you have anything along that line.”
 
Tara helped the young man check the different choices available and, more importantly, offered the gift of her friendship.  “How are things at the video store?”
 
“Great!  Got a running joke that they’ll promote me to head the section for horror films and get free advertising out of it.”
 
Tara cringed at the cruelty of his bosses and coworkers but was awed to see that the lad took it as a joke himself and took no offense.  Davey saw the flash of compassionate anger when it flashed though and hastened to reassure her.  “They don’t mean any harm, Tara.  It’s not like that.  It’s a good job and they pay me well, include me in all their socializing. I have no complaints.  No one even calls me ‘Elephant Man Junior’ like the last place I worked.”
 
Once again, she felt humble in the face of an everyday hero who had found joy in the sad life he had been given.  It was life affirming on a spiritual level.  Davey West was a true inspiration and she wished more people could meet him to feel it.
 
She was in full agreement with Davey about coming to Sunnydale.  The move had been the best thing Tara had ever done for herself.  She was away from her oh-so-dysfunctional family at long last and was spreading her wings.  She had the feeling that she had found her forever love in Willow and love was always something to celebrate. 
 
What nearly overwhelmed her, however, was to have discovered at her very lowest point that she had a family of friends as well.  Her past birthday had actually felt like a rebirth.  Maybe no one else could understand it, but she would forever be grateful to Spike for wiping away any possible seed of doubt about her having a demonic nature lurking within.  She had known fully well why he had chosen to prove her father wrong in that way; it was indisputable.  He hadn’t hit her very hard either, didn’t even give her a nose bleed!
 
She gave Davey his change and wished him the blessings of the day and began to pack up her potions.  The open air market had been a great way to make a bit of spending money on recipes learned at her mother’s knee.   Very few of her herbal and aromatherapy items had not sold.  She set aside a bit of Burba weed and decided to take it by Spike’s crypt as a little thank you. 
 
~~~
 
“Hey, Spike.” Clem looked worried.  It wasn’t a look Spike had ever seen on the laid-back demon before.  “I wondered if you were thinking of moving away from the Hellmouth.  A bunch of us guys are headed up north and there’s room in the Bug for you if you want to come along.”
 
“This is my home, Clem.  Not lettin’ anyone drive me out.  Nothin’ changin’ here, though, not really.  Slayer still playin’ sheriff, keepin’ a lid on.  I don’t dine on the fresh anymore, so the general public finally gettin’' a bit of sense after dark don’t change a thing for me.”
 
“There’s a rumor going around that those soldiers that were here last year are back.  Harvey’s whole bowling league team disappeared just last Friday after their game.”  Clem’s voice dropped to a near whisper.  “There’s some old military base near Death Valley and I hear they’re filling it with demons of all kinds.  So far they’ve only gotten the ones that have nothing against humans anyway, but I don’t want to wind up there.  I’m thinking the woods in the Cascades might be a good place to find a nice cave and ride this out.”
 
Spike fought back the chill that coursed through him at the memory of his life changing time in the Initiative caves.  Those were the sorts of dreams he didn’t like waking from too often.  “Thought the Slayer put an end to those wankers.”
 
“Well, it’s not exactly the same, I haven’t heard of any experiments or anything.  Recognized a couple of them in the park the other night, though.  They were talking to the Slayer’s boyfriend.  I was fairly close, but it’s rude to eavesdrop, so I moved along.”
 
Spike’s eyes narrowed.  Captain Cardboard might be out of the Initiative, but the Initiative was still in the boy.  Every time they were in the same place, the looks Finn shot his way made it clear that his worldview hadn’t changed one bit.  Everything was black and white, and white meant looking and being just like him and his troop of berks.
 
“So, wanna come?”  Clem was getting itchy and wanting to hit the road.
 
“Thanks, mate, but I’m stayin’.  If that lot is back, it can only spell trouble for the Slayer.  Wanna keep watch on what goes down.”
 
“If things change, head up to Mount Hood in Oregon and we’ll make room for you,” Clem clamped him on the shoulder.   “Bring the Slayer and her friends along too. If they need a hideout, they’ll be welcome.”
 
~~~ 
Nov 20, 2000. Sunnydale, California
 
Buffy was distracted and that was never good for her on patrol.  Nearly a week prior, she had narrowly avoided being staked with her own weapon by a vamp that was such an idiot a kid on a sugar high could have taken him without effort. Riley had come to the rescue just in time and that just annoyed the hell out of her.  She hadn’t broken off the failing relationship yet and this incident had just done more to underline Riley’s need to be the protector of all things Buffy.
 
“I’m the Slayer. I don’t need a protector, just a partner…preferably one who doesn’t mind that I can kick his ass,” she grumbled so quietly that only a vampire could hear her.  Unfortunately for her privacy, one such vampire was right there and heard every word.
 
“Trouble in paradise, love?”  Spike moved through the shadows as if one with them. 
 
Itstartled Buffy, although she covered nicely. She rolled her eyes.  “Eavesdrop much?”
 
“Not eavesdropping when you’re in my front yard talkin’ to yourself.  Need to know if the Slayer’s gone barmy, don’t I?”
 
“You’d know ‘barmy’ and that would be in the Biblical sense,” Buffy smiled at her own quip.
 
Spike didn’t even try to act offended, but smiled in agreement.  “See, expert here; even you admit it.”
 
A fledgling chose that moment to stumble into the small clearing with the joking pair only to meet with a quick dusty finish at the end of Spike’s stake.  “Hey, that one was mine!” Buffy pouted.
 
“Gotta share, pet. I get cranky when I don’t get my spot of violence,” Spike returned.
 
“At least you aren’t doing my job because you think this damsel needs saving,” her voice held a slight note of bitterness.
 
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Spike looked shocked that she might think he was some do-gooder charging in to rescue her.  “You’re the bloody Chosen One--best I’ve seen too--not likely to need help taking out some moron fresh from the turf.”
 
Buffy snorted.  “Yeah, you worrying about me would be a real stretch.”  She completely missed the flash of hurt that crossed the vampire’s face. 
 
“Might be surprised what I worry over, love.”  His tone of voice made clear that she figured in there somewhere, but Buffy wasn’t sure just how.
 
“Not too much to do on patrol lately.  Most demons are staying in at night just like the humans are.  Vamps come out, of course, but most are losers like that one.  Not much challenge.  I think I’m getting too complacent; nearly got staked last week.  Riley got the creep.”
 
“AHA,” Spike nodded in understanding.  “That the White-Knight-wannabe that’s got your knickers in a twist?”
 
Buffy had to laugh.  Riley would love to be seen as some hero of old rushing to the rescue of all and sundry.  “Got it in one.”
 
“So back to my original question.  Trouble in paradise?”  There was a note of hopefulness in his voice that would have puzzled Buffy had she taken notice of it.
 
“That would imply there’s a paradise to have trouble in, wouldn’t it?”  Buffy wondered idly just when Spike had become so easy to talk to.  “Riley and I haven’t exactly become the poster couple for happily ever after.  I’m beginning to wonder if I’m just doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over with my love life.”
 
Spike quirked a brow and tilted his head inquiringly.  “How so?”
 
“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.  Helps to keep my mind off Mom’s situation.”  Spike wanted to interrupt and ask about Joyce but decided to take one conversation at a time.  His expression encouraged confidences so Buffy continued.  “I was pretty young, both as a girl and a Slayer, when Angel and I were together and it felt natural and okay that he tried to guide me, rescue me, that kind of thing.  It was kind of romantic really, with all the mystery and popping in and out like that.  All those helpful hints and words of wisdom from this powerful vampire who had seen so much was…well, let’s just say I didn’t mind.”
 
Spike managed to keep from glowering at the mention of his grandsire.  Buffy had loved the wanker and that was not going to change any time soon.  Besides, the Slayer had no clue of Spike’s affections.  Not like Dru, who was always going on about her daddy even though she knew how it grated.  “Can see how that worked,” he encouraged and motioned to a gravestone to sit.
 
“I’m not a total doof; I see the similarities between Riley and Angel.”  Spike’s eyebrows both rose at that and Buffy laughed at his reaction.  “I mean they’d hate to hear it, but truth is truth.  I guess I’m beginning to wonder if Riley was some kind of Angel substitute minus the whole actually dead thing, a rebound guy.  It’s totally not fair to him, because he’s really a great guy, but the feelings just aren’t there.”
 
Spike could have danced around the cemetery cheerfully at those words but held his glee in check.  “It happens.  Look at me!  I got tangled up with that mind-trust, Harmony!”
 
Buffy nearly fell off Abigail Tunsdyle’s headstone giggling.  “Well, my taste IS at least better than yours!”
 
“Oy, watch that, missy!”  His dancing eyes countered the harsh exclamation.
 
They both started at a rustle in the bushes and tensed in preparation of a kill.  Spike’s night vision was the better, however, and his body poised for flight rather than fight.  He whispered a warning, “Looks like some of your boy’s band of brothers.  Might be a good time to take this conversation indoors, seein’ that I’m on the hit list lately, along with every other non-human out there.”
 
They made their way into Spike’s crypt in silent accord, avoiding detection by the small group of men in camouflage.
 
Spike lit candles and offered his lone chair to Buffy as he hopped up to sit on the lid of the Sarcophagus.  ‘Gonna need to show the Slayer my downstairs soon,’ he decided.
 
“Where was I?”  Buffy crinkled her brow in a way that Spike found utterly adorable.
 
“Insultin’ my choice in bed partners.”
 
“Oh, yeah!  And ewwww! A mental picture I do not want, thank you!”  Buffy grinned at the look Spike gave to her feigned disgust.
 
“Least you never had to stand outside some haunted frat house and listen to the moans and groans of someone’s bed partner mistake,” Spike snarked back.  He felt bad for embarrassing the Slayer, as he had clearly done, judging by her bright red face and wide eyes.
 
“You were there for that?”
 
“Sadly, yes.”  Spike saw that Buffy was likely to bolt so he steered the conversation back to somewhat safer waters.  “So, you were sayin’ you had this epiphany about Soldier Boy and Peaches being interchangeably wrong choices.”
 
“Not exactly my point, Spike!” Buffy was getting angry.  Spike threw his hand up in mock surrender and gave a sheepish grin.
 
“Sorry,” he choked out.  He managed a look that made him suddenly seem both innocent and young. It jarred Buffy’s perception of the vampire momentarily, just long enough to defuse the situation.
 
“Gettin’ kinda dangerous to be out and about lately,” He really wanted this time in Buffy’s company to return to something resembling a friendly conversation.
 
“Yeah.  You’d think demon activity was something new!  I’ve actually seen less of it than usual.  The people here at the Hellmouth can’t really claim ignorance ‘cause stuff’s been going on here forever.  I mean, you can’t explain away the mayor turning into giant snake at the High School’s graduation too easily and not have some hint, some clue!”  She shook her head and snorted a laugh.  “I heard some guy on the news yesterday saying they are having some riots in France because some group is saying the mad cow disease problem that happened is linked to these weird creatures.  It took Chirac to call out the army finally.  Things are getting majorly hot and not just there.  No one has mentioned demons yet, but they might as well.”
 
“You were saying you nearly got staked last week.  Everything okay?  That’s not like you.  You’re the best Slayer I’ve ever seen, so you must have been surrounded.” Spike was worried, had been since she mentioned it, but didn’t want to let her think he saw her as less than capable.
 
“No.  Just one very lame vampire.  I had my mind elsewhere, I guess.  It did get me thinking about my shelf life though.”  Buffy scrunched her forehead as she suddenly thought of something both disturbing and helpful.  The look she gave Spike was a bit colder than it had been in some time. 
 
“Maybe you’re just the one I should talk to.  You killed them.”
 
“Killed who, pet?”
 
“Slayers.”  Her voice had gone to ice.
 
No point in denying the fact.  “Two,” he nodded warily, not sure he liked where this conversation was going.
 
“Tell me about them, how you killed them.  What they did wrong.”
 
“You want to learn all about how I bested the slayers and you want to learn fast.  Right, then.  We fought. I won. The end.”  He really, really didn’t like Buffy remembering his past with her sister slayers, given that he finally had an opening to try his luck with the girl now that she was giving up on the overgrown Boy Scout.
 
“That’s not what I…,”  Buffy was a little perplexed by the slight hurt she heard in his voice.  This was Spike.  He was supposed to be all proud of his past victories; he’d bragged about them enough in the past.
 
“What did you want?  A quick demo? A blow-for blow description you can map out and memorize?  It’s not about the moves, love. If we’re diggin’ up past uglies, you must be a bit worried.”
 
“Just trying to stay alive and I figure you can help me do that.”  Buffy didn’t like feeling her mortality, but truth was truth--if Riley hadn’t come along, she might have found herself past the sell-by date stamped on the bottom of her Slayer package. “If you don’t want to share, fine, but you don’t have to a pain in the ass about it.”
 
“What can I tell you, baby?  I’ve always been bad.”
 
~~~ 
Riley was in a funk.  Buffy had been distant for the past week, ever since he had saved her life!  ‘What does she want from me?  I turned my back on my career, my life, for her.  I fight the good fight.  I just can’t seem to get past whatever wall she has and I’m getting a little tired of feeling like I’m just not enough for her.’  He turned into the decrepit building and handed money to a scraggly vamp pimp while motioning towards Violet, his current favorite.
 
As he ascended the steps passing more filth and degenerate behavior than he ever wanted the Reverend Baker to find out about, he reminded himself once again how this was all Buffy’s fault.  If she were only more emotionally available, he wouldn’t need to look for this feeling elsewhere.
 
“We’re thinking of moving soon, closing up,” Violet shared.  “Not too safe now, even for those of us who don’t hunt or kill.”
 
“You’ll be safe.  I still have contacts.” Riley felt a bit of panic at the thought of having his pleasure put in jeopardy.  “I may have to be careful how I do it, but I’ll see you’re okay.”  It felt good to see the look of relief and gratitude on the vampiress’s face.  ‘At least someone appreciates me taking care of them!’
 
“Oh, Riley, you’re so good to me!  Let me be good to you now, okay?”  Violet stroked his arm in anticipation.  One day, she hoped he would let her show him the pleasure of having him penetrate her while she was penetrating him but for now she stuck to their routine and shifted into game face, drawing his forearm closer to her fangs.
 
He rolled his eyes back in pleasure as the slight prick brought a jolt of pain followed by bliss when he felt his life-force going into Violet as she moaned in ecstasy.
 
Riley let his mind drift, enjoying the feeling of being the center of the world to the frail vampire he was giving life to.  He was rock hard and hoping Buffy would be in the mood later to take care of that, because he was getting more than a bit tired of long nights with just his right hand for company.  ‘Never mind that.  Forget Buffy for the moment, just enjoy mattering to Violet for now.  Enjoy it all being about you, Finn.’
 
~~~
“You got off on it!”  Buffy had seen the look on Spike’s face as he had given his recount of his dubious history.
 
“Not as such.  Look, Slayer, it’s different than the hunt and kill for food.  You slayers are IT,” he ran his hand through his hair in a frantic gesture.  How could he explain the difference, the reason he would never regret those two victories. “It’s like in war, pet.  There’s one elite warrior on the side of puppies and Christmas and you’re it.  To go up against a Slayer, it’s combat.  Two warriors pitting their skill and only one comes out alive.  You do it every night!  I suppose you’re telling me you don’t get off on winning?  How many of my kind you reckon you’ve done?”
 
“Not enough apparently, since the whole army's trying to do my job.”
 
“And we just keep coming.  You can kill a hundred, a thousand, a thousand-thousand and the enemies from hell besides, and all any of us need is for one of us…just one…sooner or later to have that thing we’re all hoping for.”  He narrowed his eyes to a slit.  It was in her interest to really get it, to understand her position in the grand scheme of things from the demons’ perspective.
 
“And that would be?” Buffy’s voice was harsh, ragged.  This wasn’t comfortable at all for her.
 
Spike leaned close, as if confiding a secret, “One. Good. Day.”  He could see the goose-flesh rise on her arms.  ‘Good!  Maybe she’ll remember what a big target she is, what a trophy, and be a bit more careful.’
 
“Problem with you, Summers, is you’re too good; you let your mind wander.  You’re starting to think you’re immortal.”
 
“So that’s it?  Lesson over?”
 
“No. That was lesson the first:  Always have your weapon ready, ‘cause I already have mine,” He shifted into game face to underline the message.  “Lesson the second: Ask the right questions.  You want to know how I beat ‘em?”  Buffy nodded slowly, not really sure she wanted to hear this after all.  “The question isn’t, ‘how’d I win?’  The question is, ‘Why did they lose?’”
 
“What’s the difference?”  Buffy huffed.
 
“Big difference, love.”  Spike would have loved to show her but the crypt was not really the place to spar and he didn’t want Buffy to relegate him back to villain status completely, even though she needed to be reminded of some hard facts if she were to survive.  “Love to dance with you and show you, but the chip might not like it.”
 
“You think we’re dancing?”  Buffy snorted.
 
“That’s all we’ve ever done, love, and why we’re both still standing here now.”  He tilted his head and tried to decide how to explain.  “The thing about the dance is you never get to stop.  Every day you wake up, it’s the same bloody question that haunts you: ‘Is today the day I die?’  Death is on your heels, baby, every slayer and every vamp, and, sooner or later, it’s gonna catch you.  Part of you wants it, not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you’re just a little bit in love with it.” 
 
Buffy had grown ashen.  How had Spike known how tired she was of this endless duty?  Of getting up every day knowing she was going to be knocked around, bruised, battered, cut, bleeding, maybe not surviving, but having to try? Was it the same for him?
 
“Death is your art.  You make it with your hands day after day.  That final gasp, that look of peace…part of you is desperate to know.  What’s it like?  Where does it lead you?  You see, that’s the secret.”  He waited to be certain she was with him on this point.  “Not the punch you didn’t throw or the kicks you didn’t land.  Every slayer has a death wish.  Even you.  Sooner or later, you’re gonna want it.  And the second…the SECOND…that happens….” He clapped his hands together in front of her face for emphasis.  “It’ll be there.  Some ugly will slip in and have a real good day.” 
 
Buffy gulped and stood rigid.  Spike could see he’d made his point and stepped back a pace.  “THERE endeth the lesson.”  He could see his Slayer was rattled.  “Did I scare you?  You’re the Slayer; do something about it.  Hit me!   Come on, one good swing, you know you want to.”  He’d given her a sense of her vulnerability, now it was time to give her back a bit of the sense of her own power. “Give it to me good, Buffy, do it!”
 
She really had no desire to hit Spike.  She had felt comfortable in his company, trusting in his insights.  She didn’t want to be the schoolyard bully beating on the guy who couldn’t fight back just because she could.  “Spike…”
 
Spike was panting, his passion aroused at the thought of anything physical with Buffy.  Without thinking he leaned in, eyes fixed on her lips, and Buffy backed away quickly, startled and confused.
 
“What the hell are you doing?”  She could have sworn he was about to kiss her.
 
“Come on, I can feel it, Slayer” Spike was near whispering his voice low and sultry.  “You know you want to dance.”
 
Buffy blinked and backed away.  God help her but she did!  “Say it’s true, say I do want to.  It can’t be you, Spike, I’ve been there, done that and got the ripped heart to prove it.  It can never be you.”
 
She pushed past Spike and fled the crypt, leaving him with his eyes closed and breath coming in gasps.  “I’m not bloody Angel, pet.  One day you’ll figure that out!” he shouted at her retreating form.
~~~