"Wakey, wakey." a familiar voice mocked, before a sharp slap to her left cheek caused Buffy to jerk back into consciousness. She tried pushing herself off the cold stone beneath her, only to hear the rattle of chains and feel the resistance against that motion. Instead she looked around, searching for the source of the voice. Her eyes eventually came to rest on the brunette to her side. "What's up B? Life been good to you lately?"
"Faith." she whispered, a combination of anger, fear and pity welling up within her. "What do you want?"
"Well, I'm thinkin' the end of the world. How's about you?" the young woman smiled with mock pleasantry. Looking around at her surroundings, as Faith began unlocking her chains, Buffy finally recognized where they were. The sewers beneath the high-school. What was going on here? Something bad was about to happen, but for the life of her she couldn't tell what exactly.
"So what's wrong B?" Faith asked conversationally, as she lead them to a small service room. "You're usually a lot more talkative when I'm around; 'Faith, you don't have to do this; Faith, this is... wrong; Faith, there's always another way'." the dark-haired girl mimicked sarcastically. "You tellin' me there's no last words of self-righteousness you wanna share with me before you die?"
"What's going on here?" Buffy asked, still not sure what to make of this whole situation.
Faith led her to the large fissure in the ground. "We're having a party," another familiar voice informed her. Spinning around Buffy gaped, Dru was smiling happily at her from an old beat up and worn couch in the corner of the room, "-and you're the guest of honour."
Seeing Dru wasn't even what was stirring the worst of what she was feeling at the moment, it was the sight of the figure on whose lap the psycho vamp was sitting. Spike.
Her heart fell to her shoes as she watched the two lovers share a passion filled kiss, then stand slowly, still entwined in each others arms. Dru pulled away slightly, leaving her forehead pressed up against Spike's. "It's time lover. The blood of the Slayer must be offered to the Beast." she purred softly, stepping back as Spike turned a cool gaze towards Buffy.
Faith stepped to the side slightly as Spike approached, handing him a small, ornate dagger. He circled her slowly, dragging the tip of the blade along her neck, careful not to break skin, then stopped in front of her and lifted her chin with the flat side of the blade to meet his gaze. There was no emotion that she could discern in his eyes, just the promise of death.
"The chip?" she whispered, somehow knowing in her heart what the answer would be.
"Hasn't been a problem for a while now, pet." he told her, his emotionless tone giving nothing away. "I've only been waiting for the perfect opportunity." he paused, and looked down into her eyes. "I swore you'd die by my hand Buffy." he looked away then, at some distant point over his shoulder. "I also swore you'd be my first kill once the chip wasn't a problem." From his tone of voice, she could tell that he was slightly disappointed that she was not. Her mind shut down, unwilling to think of all the innocent lives that had been lost at his hands. "Finally, I swore that you would be my third Slayer." those last words were spoken so quietly, she almost missed them. He brought the knife down to her chest and leaned forward slightly, as his free hand gripped her shoulder. "I really am sorry about this Slayer." he whispered sincerely, for her ears alone. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and waited.
Nothing happened. Opening her eyes she saw Spike hovering over her. She frowned, what was going on?
"I need some good news, Slayer." he said, when he noticed she'd opened her eyes. "Tell me you can move again."
Move? What on earth was he talking about? She looked around, her head feeling as though it weighed a ton. Giles' room. She was in Giles' room. What happened with the sewer? With Faith? With Drusilla?
"Hello?" Spike waved a hand in front of her face. "You turned your head! I saw you turn your head!" he half-turned so he was facing the stairs. "She's patrolling! She can move again!" he yelled over his shoulder.
A dream? Was that what it had been? She studied the vampire at her side closely, if it had been a Slayer-dream, one of those prophetic dreams, did that mean that Spike would get the chip out soon? Confused, she groaned, and, with some effort, pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her body felt like lead.
He was leaning over and helping her to her feet in an instant. She looked at him again; he didn't look any different, he wasn't acting any... 'you might die before your finals', wasn't that what he'd told her last night? 'If you could pick your death, how would you want to die?'. It was all starting to make sense.
"How long?" she asked, without any preamble.
He looked over at her, confused. "How long what?"
"How long have you been able to kill?" she clarified, pushing the fear and pain to the back of her mind as she stared him down coolly.
Surprise crossed his face, then anger, "You know very well that I haven't been able to..."
She cut him off with a vicious backhand, and he fell backwards, the loss of his support causing her to stagger off balance. Amber eyes glared over at her as he leapt back to his feet and tackled her into the night stand by the bed.
He growled, then roared in pain, his hands clutching head as he rolled off her and stumbled back to his feet. "What the bloody hell is your problem Slayer?" he snarled, his human features once again at the fore.
The sound of feet pounding up the stairs caused them both to turn around, and Giles appeared on the landing, cross-bow in hand. "What's going on up here?" the older man asked, casting a glance between the two.
Spike kept his mouth clamped shut and glared at her. "Sorry." Buffy murmured, reaching up to use the bed to help her to her feet, "I uh, had a bad dream, and-and hit Spike. Then he hit back, then, well..." she gestured around helplessly, and watched as Spike rolled his eyes and stepped around the former Watcher to head back downstairs, his left hand still massaging his temple.
"Soddin' loony-tune," he muttered, disappearing from sight.
"Ah, I see." Giles sighed, lowering the cross-bow. "Was it a-a, um..."
"Slayer-dream?" Buffy finished for the flustered man. She shrugged, "I don't know, I thought maybe it was, but..." she trailed off as she looked down. Spike was still safe, if he was still safe then maybe it had just been a nightmare fuelled by her own inner fears and anxieties. "You know what, it was nothing. Really stupid actually." she decided, forcing her stiff body to make its way to the stairs. "I better go apologize to fang-face if I want his help at all tonight."
Accepting Giles' help, she made her way down to the first floor and looked around for the vampire. He was no where to be seen. There was a delicious plate of food on the table though, and her stomach rumbled hungrily. She'd find him later and apologize, but right now, more than anything she needed to eat.
Looking around, she noticed that there were books still spread all over the place, Spike had mentioned something about research earlier... "Find anything?" she asked around mouthfuls.
Giles leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Yes and no." he began wearily. She listened while she ate, as he explained the demons, their significance, then the lack of information he could find on any upcoming prophesies, rituals, ceremonies or astrological events of any significance or relevance.
Reluctantly, she eventually filled him in on most of her dream, leaving Spike and the implant discontinuity out. It couldn't have possibly been just simple coincidence that her dream had involved an 'apocalyptic' type event right around the same time a bunch of apocalyptic demons were converging on the Hellmouth. Coincidences like that didn't happen. At least not with her.
Spike dropped his sixth cigarette and reached for a seventh. In the Slayer's words: this was so not good. She knew, or suspected, and with the events coming up, he wasn't ready to reveal all to her just yet. It was his own fault really, he shouldn't have opened his bloody mouth and asked how she wanted to die on the same night he'd already all but promised her death.
He just couldn't help it though. He'd been too curious, and now, somehow, she *knew*.
Well, maybe not for sure - he had managed to pull off that show of pain after allowing himself to rise to her bait and attacking her. That had seemed to convince her that he was still leashed, but she might still suspect. He took a long drag and stared up at the sky; he'd just have to be a little more careful, that's all. Chuckling slightly, he exhaled, watching the cloud of smoke haze his view of the night sky. It would be more of a challenge now - more dangerous. He smiled as the smoke quickly dissipated and the stars appeared brightly and clearly before him again. The stakes had just risen - this would definitely make things more interesting - more fun.
Tilting his head slightly as he heard the sounds of approaching voices, he let his seventh cigarette fall to the ground, and pulled an eighth from the pack sitting beside him on the hood of Giles' hunk of ugly metal on wheels. Amy, Tara, Willow and Oz came into sight then, and he offered them a brief nod in greeting as they passed by.
Buffy's voice greeted them as they approached the door, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as the Slayer slowly approached him. Not bothering to turn his head as she pulled herself up onto the hood beside him, he decided it would probably be best to continue an angry act - without overdoing it too much - then make like everything would soon be forgotten and forgiven.
"So," Buffy breathed uncertainly, shifting uncomfortably beside him. "-been busy?" she asked, casting a glance down at the growing pile of cigarette butts on the ground beneath him.
"Yeah, been spilling the blood of innocents and all." he replied sarcastically, still refraining from looking at her directly.
Buffy sighed, from beside him and he waited in silence, practically hearing her apology on the tip of her tongue... "Hypothetically, if you *did* get that chip out, and you were totally free to maim and murder, the first thing you'd want to do would be... kill me, wouldn't it?"
He hadn't been expecting that question right off the bat, so instead of answering, he found himself shrugging.
"-and," she added, obviously taking that action for a yes, "If say in this hypothetical situation, someone, we'll call her Dru, came back into your life, and promised you the end of the world, and her love for eternity if you sacrificed me to some Hellmouth beast, you'd do that too, wouldn't you?"
Okay, now he had totally lost her. One minute he's sure she's going to be apologizing, and the next minute she's talking Dru and Hellmouth beasts? There was some kind of trick here - maybe she was just looking for an excuse to get rid of him - maybe those three witches were hiding somewhere casting a little lie detecting spell...
"What would you do if Angel told you he'd get his soul permanently, no strings attached, and all you had to do was kill me?" he asked instead. Yeah, that was a safe answer. He finally turned to face her, watching as her eyes glazed over in thought.
"I don't think I could do it." she whispered softly, after a few minutes. "Too much has happened these last four years, if you were still helping us out..." she shook her head and focussed on him again. "... I don't think I could do it."
He blinked at her, his thoughts and emotions far too jumbled to put together anything halfway intelligent to respond with. He was a vampire, a *demon*, he didn't have a soul like the poof in LA, he wasn't supposed to find himself facing emotional conflicts when it came to the Slayer. She was his enemy, end of story. Or at least, that was where said story was *supposed* to end, so why wasn't it right now?
So she might not have the stones to kill him anymore, so what? Made his job all the easier - didn't it? Buffy, Slayer, mortal enemy; hate, hate, hate, kill, end life, do away with, finish off, murder...
"Not exactly an encouraging response." she joked half-heartedly after a moment of silence had passed between them.
His mind shut down and he blinked at her with incomprehension, then dread. She was in his head now, reading his thoughts, the witches, that's why they came, it was all a set up, she was on to him, he... he was growling? Frowning he reached up to touch his forehead, then flinched when he also became aware of a searing pain between his fingers. The cigarette - he'd forgotten about it. Dropping it to the ground, to join the others, he shook his hand out then felt his forehead. He'd vamped out. When had he done that?
"Well, you and Amy had better head out, I guess." Buffy sighed, carefully lowering herself from the car hood. "I'll just tell her that you're waiting." He watched as she started off, sliding his human face back to the fore, then jumped off the hood himself, pocketed his pack of smokes, and grabbed her elbow, stopping her and spinning her around to face him.
"Your life for the end of the world and Dru?" he repeated seriously, "Not worth it."
He was surprised with his own answer, but it was basically the truth. He'd kill her on his own time, in his own way, not because his former lover, who had made perfectly clear that she no longer loved him, said so. He could feel her eyes searching his though, trying to determine the truth of his words, and for once, he let her, knowing with a certainty that there was nothing to hide with that answer. No secret agenda, no hidden feelings. This Slayer would have a clean death if he had anything to say about it.
"If it were Angel though, I'd bleed him in a mortal heartbeat." he couldn't help but add, earning a small smile from her as a small smirk formed on his own lips. Couldn't let himself get too caught up in heavy 'Buffy'-thoughts. The more he seemed to think about her, and his desire to kill her, the more reluctant he started feeling about the whole thing - and he certainly couldn't have that.
She actually gave him a grateful and relieved look before pulling away and stiffly walking towards the door. He forced his mind away from her and towards the upcoming patrol. He'd patrolled with Amy before, when Buffy was tied up with school, or had insisted that there was some party or college happening that just couldn't be missed. The brunette witch wasn't halfway bad - she was certainly more in control of her powers than the other two, and as a result tended to be the most effective of the three in an out and out fight.
Staring off into the night as he waited for the witch to come out, he found his thoughts drifting back to the conversation he'd just had with Buffy. He couldn't care less that she hadn't apologized to him for spontaneously picking a fight with him upstairs, but the topic of their conversation was beginning to bother him.
Dru hadn't been a popular topic of conversation between them in years - and what times she had, it was mostly because he had been moping about wanting her back. With the implant though, he knew he had less than no hope of ever winning her back. If she'd thought he'd been soft back when he still did have his bite, she would've probably staked him herself if she found out that he physically could not harm another living being.
So what had brought her into the picture again suddenly? The Slayer had mentioned a dream to her the ex-Watcher - had it somehow involved him and Dru? He'd been with the group long enough now to know that she did seem to occasionally experience prophetic dreams. If that had been the case tonight, should he try to pry some information from her?
"Okay, I'm ready." Amy called out, rushing over to his side. She held a gold chain out towards him, on which was attached a small charm, consisting entirely of what appeared to be some kind of thread wound into an intricate knot. He looked at it curiously, then raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. "It's an enchanted protection knot." she explained, motioning for him to lean over so she could fasten it around his neck, "I got this sudden urge to get it for you before closing shop tonight. Don't ask, I don't know why, that's why I went to see Willow and Tara before coming back here."
Unable to think of a reason to refuse the gift, Spike allowed her to fasten it around his neck, then tucked it under his t-shirt as he straightened. "So now all those nasty humans I can't kill, won't be able to hurt me?" he asked with amusement as they started off.
"Um, it's more of a protection for the mind against evil sorcery." the young mortal explained with a nervous chuckle. "Which was another reason why I wanted to see if Willow or Tara could help me figure out why I suddenly thought you'd need one - they're planning on trying to ask the goddesses if any of them had a hand in any of this."
"Ooh, now I'm being smiled upon by the powers of good." Spike drawled sarcastically, before screwing his face up in disgust, "Could my unlife possibly get any worse?"
"They could try giving you your soul back while they're at it." Amy suggested deadpan.
Spike rolled his eyes at her, ignoring the mild panic that statement brought on, "What is it with you witches and your incessant need to answer rhetorical questions?" he asked no one in particular as he threw his hands up in defeat.
Maybe he'd turn this witch when the time came - have her waltz about without a soul for a bit - show her how much fun things were when you didn't have a bloody conscience dictating your every action and deed. That would teach her to threaten *him* with a sappy, burdensome soul.
He had absolutely no desire to live the rest of his unlife like a certain whipped nancyboy of a sire who would remain nameless. He'd stake himself if he ever sunk *that* low.
End of Part 4/7
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