He had been a poet.
Long ago in that other life where he had been weak when his spirit was crushed easily by harsh words spoken by the cruel who knew nothing of him, he had salved the tears of his wounded heart by allowing them to bleed on paper. He was good, he knew he was, even though the taunts of others had branded him with the cruel appellation of William the Bloody Awful. He had swallowed thickly when the words were whispered behind his back, just loud enough for him to hear, for what good was a taunt if its victim was oblivious? He clenched his jaw and ignored the insidious pain of their sniggering and continued instead to compose in defiance of their derision.
Her name was Cecily, and she was undoubtedly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life. They moved in the same circles although in Victorian London that did not necessarily mean the same class. He was considered wellborn but certainly not in the sphere of orbit as Cecily, who seemed beyond him in social distinction but almost by divine right. She was the sun that he could not look at for its brilliance, the stars that he could not reach and when William thought about her, the ache impaled him within until he was forced to scream his pain into the words he composed just for her.
His worship at her altar progressed what seemed to be an eternity with his mother discouraging it as much as she could. The girl was not for him, she would say, and he was determined that his mother was wrong about Cecily because one day he would write the poem that would unlock her heart. He just had to keep trying until it did. Even now, he shuddered at his own naïveté. He had never known a woman before Cecily, and to him, they were creatures shrouded in mystery for which the art of the prose was created. It never occurred to him that women could be as cruel and capricious as men, that their indifference could be as sharp as their empathy and in Cecily’s who had more of one than the other, he never imagined she could be cruel.
But she was cruel and after his latest recital, which was not at all well received, thanks to the sniggering and derisive remarks he had heard during the performance, she had confronted him. Her appearance before him seemed like a dream come true, and he had actually thought that she had come to tell him that the others were wrong, that the poem he had written for her was not awful but beautiful. He imagined she had come to declare that she had been blind and that she loved him as desperately as he loved her. He thought all this with no inkling of just how wrong he was going to be. She looked at him, not with admiration and love but rather disgust and her words haunted him for the next century, even after he had taken her life.
You’re beneath me.
The memory still stung despite its distance in his past. It curdled inside his stomach and made his blood pound with fury. At the time, however, he had not the spirit inside him to feel anger or rage, just a soul-stealing wail of anguish that wanted to escape him like a banshee’s cry. Driven away from her presence, he had not paid any attention to anything happening around him. Not to the laughter of those who still amusing themselves at his expense, not the satisfaction of Cecily at finally ridding herself of her unwanted paramour. All he could think of were her words, and they circled inside his head like a vortex, tearing him apart with each swirl. He could feel the tears wanting to come, but he refused to weep, not here and not now. He would not show anyone how much she had hurt him.
He was as close to distraught as anyone could be after receiving such devastating news and when he spilled out into the crowded streets of a lively London night, he barely paid attention to the faces of those moving past him. He was vaguely aware of running into someone, hardly conscious with whom he had collided with, knowing only that he had said something rude and continued walking. He was desperate to find a quiet place where he could express his grief and nurse the heart ripped in two by the woman he loved and cherished. It did not take him long to find it, and he was starting to cave into his sorrow when she appeared.
She was beautiful in a way that Cecily could not be.
Her eyes danced even as she looked at him, and there was something in the look of them that almost convinced him she could feel his pain and was drawn to him because of it. He saw desire and need to be wrapped up in something he could not define, and after the pain, he had suffered, it was something to realise that his beautiful stranger felt those emotions about him. He allowed her to cajole him into her embrace, like a child being coaxed to nurse for the first time. He went to her almost bewildered and uncertain of what to do. She wrapped her arms around and him and drew him to her with those incredible eyes. Transfixed, he did not even notice how cold her skin felt when she started to kiss him.
They say a kiss can change a man’s life. It certainly did for him. Her lips devoured his with hunger, driving Cecily further and further away from his mind without his even being aware of it. He felt her hands running through his hair as her kisses became more hungered and she started sliding down his lips, past his jaw, finally arriving at his neck. He closed his eyes lost in sensation and the rapture of feeling a female touch him the way he had always wanted, he felt his body come alive with arousal as she moved down his throat and still her cold breath did not seem all that unnatural.
Not until she bit him.
There was pain and then fear as he tried to pry her away from him, but her strength was more than a match for him, and after a while, he stopped struggling altogether. His body became weak as he was drained, but then she stopped, and he could feel warmth spurting down his skin, soiling his shirt. Absurdly he thought that his mother would be furious to launder such soiled clothes, but then his dark angel was looking at him again, his blood on her lips. He wanted to cry out, but when his eyes met hers, he recognised something that was almost as forlorn and lonely as he was and so he remained silent.
"Be mine." She spoke to him.
His eyes widened.
"Be mine, my lovely boy," she said again. "We’ll be happy."
Her eyes danced as she used her nail and cut a line across her chest. Blood spilled forth from the torn flesh but did not spurt as his did. "Come to me," she urged again like a siren song that would have put Odysseus to the rocks had he deigned to listen. "Come to me, and we can be together."
After he went to her, everything changed.
William, the poet, disappeared in a heartbeat, and he became something beyond death, beyond anything. He became a vampire. For a century, he travelled across the world with his dark angel, his Dru and her Sire Angelus and in turn his Sire, Darla. They moved across Europe and the world like a scourge sent from the deepest corner of hell, feeding in the night. His first kill was Cecily, and it was sweet to drain her and have her know that in humiliating him as she had done, she had not only sealed his fate but her own. For those who had taken just jest from his poetry, he was not so subtle.
Death by railroad spike was never a pleasant way to die.
He rather enjoyed administering this form of death, and soon he was known by it. They called him Spike and buried William forever.
Like Spike, he was one of the undisputed master vampires. He was the only vampire still alive who had the distinction of killing two slayers, the enemy of all vampires everywhere. The weakness that had dogged his mortal life all but disappeared when he became one of the undead. To this day, he still wondered whether or not this strength he felt was his own or did it come furnished with the demon that took his soul. Whatever the cause of it, Spike pitted himself repeatedly against the slayers, the young women who were chosen to battle vampires everywhere. He killed two of them and become something of a master vampire because of it.
But things went wrong at the turn of the century. Angelus had run afoul of a gypsy caravan and had incurred a most unusual punishment for the murder of their favourite daughter; Angelus was returned his soul, something unprecedented for vampires. The return of Angelus soul’ destroyed not only one of the most fearsome vampires that ever lived but also splintered the family he had gained in his unlife. With Angelus’ soul came his conscience and Angelus became human-like he used to be, Spike would think in disgust. Darla, heartbroken, returned to the Master. Aurelius who was trapped under the Hellmouth situated in the town of Sunnydale, waiting for his day of resurrection. Spike and Dru travelled, trying to rekindle the unbridled joy of their life before and failing to do so without their older companions. In Prague, angry villagers hurt Dru and Spike had barely managed to escape with her to safety.
He took care of his angel because he loved her and though he was a demon, that much of William remained with him; his ability to love without question and with utmost loyalty. He treasured her, hunted for her and ensured that nothing harmed her. He loved her the way he would have loved Cecily if she had only given him a chance. He was determined that the malaise that had struck down Angelus and would eventually take Darla’s life would not happen to him and Dru, they were eternal, and they would love until the end of time. It was a good plan, and he had every intention of keeping to it.
Until he came to Sunnydale and once again beheld the sun.
Her name was Buffy Anne Summers, and it was ridiculous to name as far as he was concerned. It was a name he would have been perfectly content to kill someone for having. Unfortunately, the name was attached to the latest slayer and Spike had been so sure that he could despatch this one as efficiently as he had killed her predecessors. However, it soon became evident that this one would not go quickly. No matter how much he tried, it felt harder than all the others, and each time he was fighting her, he was also getting to know her. It had been his habit to study his enemy to know their weakness before striking, but with Buffy, it was different. He studied her, and he felt her sorrows, and though he kept trying to kill her, he could not help admire her resilience for prevailing in light of something almost devastating loss. The weight of her responsibility was a crushing burden he could not even begin to imagine, and yet she carried it, all but sixteen years old because she was the slayer.
Dru knew that he loved Buffy even before he did.
They went their separate ways when Dru turned to someone else, but it was he that had left her first, if not in body then certainly in the heart. He returned to Sunnydale, uncertain what to do if there was anything. The absurdity of it was beyond belief. He was a vampire, and she was the slayer, if there were too more impossible lovers, then it was indeed they. She did not even see him like that but rather a monster. He found her incomplete, broken when he returned. Something about her had resigned to life and prepared to accept what she thought she deserved, not what she had earned. Shortly after returning to Sunnydale, a government organisation captured him and neutered him by placing a chip in his head that ensured he would not be able to harm humans.
Desperate for aid, he turned to the slayer because there was no one else and he was too proud to go crawling back to Dru. She gave him assistance though rather ambivalently and strangely enough, they developed a relationship, albeit a peculiar one. She learnt of his love for her and cast it aside as Cecily had done, but this time Spike was stronger, and William was gone. He remained at her side trying to prove himself, and when he had almost died for her and her little sister Dawn, she began to acknowledge the effort. After that, they became uneasy allies. He adored her. He resigned to being at her side, despite fighting the urges the chip was subsiding within him. When she died, he thought he would die to until a spell saw her restored to him. He loved her still but was content with friendship, not having her at all was far worse.
Then one day, she kissed him and loved him. Their passion was the light of a thousand stars, and he loved a woman, not a vampire for the first time in his life. She was real under him, and her warmth reminded Spike what it was like to be alive again. Even if he never had her again, he could live on the memory of that night forever because it was perfect. A dream could not have been better. He expected she might be a little shaken with what happened and resolved himself to be there for her, to give her space if she needed it. Not even, a creature of the night, which had seen horrors beyond imagining, could ever suspect her reaction the next morning.
She had called the most beautiful night of his life a freak show and he a convenience.
It broke his heart inside his chest into a thousand pieces and once again, he felt as he had when Cecily had driven him into Drusilla’s arms and into a life of eternal damnation. She saw their entire night together as some horrible aberration and cast him aside as if he were nothing. He wanted to die right then and wondered whether or not she heard him weeping once she had left him in the damaged house when they had consummated their passion.
Now all he could think about was how different his life would have been if Cecily had not existed or better yet if Buffy did not. He would still be with Dru, not trapped like a neutered animal in Sunnydale, pining for a woman who would never love him and to whom his heart was lost completely.
God, he wished she had never been born.
God was not listening to Spike, but someone did.
He had no idea what he was doing here.
It was not as if she wanted his help or was deserving of it. After what had taken place between them only a few nights ago, he should have turned his back on her for good, not only on her but also on Sunnydale in general. After all, what was there to bind him to the small town perched on the Hellmouth? He was a vampire that could only hunt others of his kind and in doing so had earned the hatred of every creature that lurked in the night. The only human he could hurt was the one person in the world that meant everything to him. Not that she gave a damn about that fact, he thought bitterly. Certainly not after what she had said to him the morning after what he considered to be the most passionate night of his life. He woke up with the realisation for the first time in a hundred years, his reason for being was to ensure her happiness. He was prepared to do it too; he would do anything as long as it meant taking that terrible sadness away from her eyes, even for an instant.
Unfortunately, she had not felt the same.
He had been convenient, she said. A night’s distraction to forget the troubles of her life, unaware that she had pierced his heart with a knife more potent that any stake when those words sunk into him. He felt his insides die again and saw her indifference to all of it. He did not think it was possible for something without a soul to feel so much sorrow. He covered it well, of course. He hid his anguish with sarcasm and glib remarks that served to infuriate her. It allowed him to maintain some vestige of dignity until she left him, and he was able to enable his battered heart to show its bruises. Despite all this, he was still at her side that night, lending a hand to retrieve her wayward sibling from her latest misadventure. After that, he avoided her like the plague, firmly deciding that if she wanted him, then it would be up to her to find him.
It was a good plan and one that Spike, also known as William the Bloody, had every intention of maintaining. He was done following her around like a lost puppy. It had been a good plan and one he had stuck to for several nights, but as things often transpired in Sunnydale, the decision was soon out of his hands. He had been returning to his crypt in the Sunnydale Cemetery when he heard the commotion of a vicious fight. This was hardly unsurprising since the Slayer did her best hunting at the Cemetery. He was almost tempted to keep going; to let her handle whatever it was that she was battling on her own. Buffy had done it long before he entered her life. He was confident she would continue to do so long after he had left it.
However, making that oath and sticking to that were two different things and Spike invariably found himself drawn to the battle because the truth was, he could not imagine it if she were hurt or worse yet killed. He was forced to watch her die once, and it was, without doubt, the worst experience of his existence. Even now, he recalled how close he had come to waiting for the sunshine to destroy him, just so that he would not have to know the pain of her loss. If not for the promise he had made to her to keep her sister safe, he would have done it. So he could not watch her die again because it would destroy him as much as it would mean the end for her. He had known what it was like to feel her touch him, to know her passion and while it was an open wound in his heart to see she had used him, he was still in love with his Slayer.
When he found her, she was fighting a demon he recognised immediately. Almost seventy years ago, they could practically be called friends. The demon had worn another host who had probably expired since the markings he saw on the ground next to where Buffy was presently battling it was part of the ritual in its acquiring a new body. Chronozon was one of the most powerful demons in Hell, a malignant force known to the underworld as the Dweller of the Abyss. If he were to acquire human form again, there was no telling the destruction he could cause, not to mention what he would do the Slayer. As he saw Buffy battling the demon, now clad in the body of a young man, no doubt a practitioner of the dark arts who had bit off more than he intended by summoning Chronozon, Spike could see that the demon was still uneasy in his new form.
"Slayer!" Spike emerged from the darkness. "You have to kill him!"
Buffy paused long enough to see his arrival before she faced her opponent once more, blocking a powerful blow that would have connected with her jaw if she had waited one second more. She caught the young man’s arm and held it briefly as she threw a powerful front kick. The demon host stumbled backwards, unaccustomed to fighting in this manner but had not gained power enough to battle in any other way.
"Slayer! Kill him!" Spike ordered once again.
"No!" Buffy shouted as she saw the host struggling to his feet. "He’s not responsible. We have to get what’s inside of him out."
"Bloody hell!" Spike growled as he reached her. "You can’t help him! The minute his body was taken, it was over. You have no idea what’s coming at you! Chronozon is one of the most dangerous demons there is. If you don’t kill him now, you won’t be able to. You have to do it before he gets stronger!"
"I can’t!" Buffy looked at him in confusion. "I can’t kill him! He’s human!"
"He was a human pet!" Spike returned. "He’s a demon now!"
"SPIKE!" A new voice cried out in the night, and this time it did not belong to either Buffy or Spike.
Both of them stared at the host who until now had been silent during most of their battle.
"William the Bloody, how it is you aid the slayer?" The question came from the host, and the tone in which it was delivered was not merely confused but slightly outraged.
"I’m slumming." Spike retorted and drew a sharp glare from Buffy at that statement.
"A far cry from the murdering you were doing when we last encountered each other." Chronozon pointed out.
"I’m not here to relive our glory days Chron," Spike said with a sigh, having no desire to have his past misdeeds aired in front of Buffy. It was not as if she had not heard enough tales of his pre-Initiative and Sunnydale days.
Chronozon narrowed his eyes and studied Spike as if he was able to see straight through the vampire into what passed for his heart and soul these days. His reaction was nothing less than astonishment. "You love this human." The disgust in his voice was apparent.
"Oh great," Buffy rolled her eyes. "Can you not manage to be so obvious about it? The last thing I want is for demons to start scribbling my phone number on their bathroom walls."
"Its too late," Spike gave her a satisfied smirk. "I did that last night."
"You love this human!" Chronozon repeated himself. "You would ally yourself against the Chosen? Would you defile yourself for her? You have her stink all over your skin! And she doesn’t even want you!" The demon started to laugh.
"That’s it mate," Spike growled, unable to tolerate the indignity of being exposed as a lovesick fool. He glanced at Buffy and said sharply, "I’m going to do you a big favour Slayer and take care of this myself."
"Spike!" Buffy called out, feeling a little guilty for giving Chronozon the means to humiliate Spike about his feelings for her. She supposed after how she treated him, Spike had a right to be angry. However, intervening right now did not seem like a good idea as Spike closed in on the demon inhabiting the body of a human she knew she could no longer save because Spike was right.
Spike saw the leering expression on Chronozon’s new face and felt the rage he could not express to his slayer bubble to the surface. He swung his fist out and caught Chronozon on the face. The demon stumbled backwards, staggered by the power behind that first blow. He did not have much chance to recover because no sooner than he was struck once, Spike swung again, this time even more forcefully than before. This time he could not stop himself from falling. When tumbled to the soft dirt of his newly exhumed grave, Spike was on top of him, swinging punch after punch, until blood began to seep through the fissure of broken skin.
"Spike stop it!" He heard her screaming. "If you’re going to do it! Make it fast! Don’t make him suffer."
Not on your life, pet. Spike thought savagely as he saw the host’s face bloodied to a pulp. It was at times like this that he wished he had a railroad spike handy. Spike knew that Chronozon had not angered him that much, but the repressed rage he had felt from being discarded by Buffy like something she had scraped off her boot was filling him with a murderous fury, and it felt good venting it. He was stronger than Buffy. Something she did not know because he had never cared to show her. In a fight, she could hold her own, but Spike could wear her down. He just never had the heart to do it because he loved her even when he did not know it.
"Spike," he heard Chronozon speak again through the haze of his violent rage, and this time there was none of the scorn that had ignited his anger, to begin with. "Spike, I can free you. Accept me into your body, and I can make you stronger than you have ever imagined. I can give her to you. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to be free of your chains and bound to her forever? I can make that happen."
The demon’s voice was soothing and for a moment, almost tempting but Spike knew he could never accept Buffy sacrificed to him. If it were that simple; he would have turned her into a vampire after their heated coupling in that building when she was vulnerable and wanting his touch. No, Spikewanted Buffy as she was, with all her human frailties and foibles. He loved her warmth and her heart. Her soul was his open book, and he wanted to study every page. If she were turned, then he would lose all that even though she would be with him for eternity. As inviting as Chronozon’s promise was, he did not want that.
"Sorry Chron," Spike said after a moment. "She’s a bitch, but I like her that way."
Without saying anything further, Spike grabbed the demon by the skull and twisted sharply.
Buffy froze when she heard the squelching sound of a neck being broken. A low wail seemed to scream into the night even though she knew the host would have had no time to scream when Spike took his life. Yet that angry scream out of rage seemed to travel on the breath of wind that suddenly appeared. She shuddered underneath her coat as she saw Spike slowly rising to his feet, wondering why it had suddenly become so cold. This was California. It wasn’t supposed to be cold, but then she was sure the brochure said nothing about Hellmouths either, but here it was.
Spike stood up and stepped away from the dead form of Chronozon’s latest host. That had been a little too close to home. Perhaps it was time he started thinking about moving on. Spike did not want the entire demon world knowing that he was the Slayer’s pet vamp, one that was foolish enough to fall in love with her, a feeling she would probably die before admitting to feeling for him. He turned towards her but did not raise his eyes to meet hers. Chronozon’s words had left him stinging, and he wanted nothing but to go back to his crypt where he could get properly drunk and forget all about what was said, at least for a few hours.
"She’s a bitch, but I like her that way?" Buffy glared at him in annoyance as he walked towards her.
"It seemed the best way to explain things to him." Spike retorted and continued past her.
"You knew him?" She asked, somewhat curious as to why he was not lingering to talk to her like he always did. She knew that he was still angry over how she had treated him, but he usually got over it.
"Yeah, I knew him." He responded curtly.
Neither noticed the dark force that had chosen to leave the dead body behind them.
"I could have taken care of him myself," she said quickly, not wishing him to think that she was incapable of doing what was necessary to save the world from another demon. She had killed Angel to stop Acathala. After that, a human stupid enough to invite a demon into his body was rather easy. She had no wish to beholding to Spike for anything.
"Fine," Spike replied, not looking at her. "You can deal with him the next time."
"I will." She said firmly.
"Whatever," his voice returned with indifference and Buffy found she did not like that very much. She was accustomed to being the one who walked out on their conversations. He was not supposed to be the one doing the walking. How dare he usurp her walking out privileges!
"SPIKE!"
Any thoughts about walking out or ignoring each other were shunted aside as both of them swung around and saw the dark cloud that suspended over the body. What might have been a faced swirled in the dark mist, but neither could make it out clearly, even though they knew who it was with absolute certainty. Chronozon could not exist for long in this plane of existence without a body, but he was still here and judging by the fury in his voice, he was appropriately angry.
"What does it take to kill you?" Spike demanded. "I must be going soft hanging around you and the Scooby bunch," he cast an accusatory look at Buffy.
"Oh, bite me." Buffy retorted.
"I’d probably choke on you." He snapped back. "Besides, old Chron can’t hang around for long can you mate? Without a warm body, you’re just another displaced excuse of a London fog."
"Oh, Spike," Chronozon’s voice started to laugh. It was deep and throaty, filled with malice. "You should have taken my offer. I would have given you the world. Now I am going to take it away."
Before Spike could do anything else, there was a surge of excruciating pain where every nerve in his body screamed with agony. A blackness even darker then the night crowded in on his consciousness and somewhere in the distance as he began to succumb to its power, he heard Buffy calling out for him. He opened his mouth to answer her, but no sound came, and after a second, nothing registered at all.
And the world he knew ceased to be.
***********
He did not know how long he had been lying in the spot where he had fallen, but Spike certainly knew it when it was time to wake up. The first ray of sunshine on a new day awakened him with sharp, searing pain and the smell of burning flesh that made his return to consciousness a less than pleasant exercise
"Bollocks!" He shouted in pain and sat up abruptly to find himself staring into the fast approaching sunrise. His hand stung with pain as he scrambled out of its light, taking sanctuary in the shade of a nearby tree. Spike squinted as the brightness of the day and immediately searched for a more permanent refuge before his immortal life was cut short rather suddenly. Fortunately, his crypt was not far from where he had been taking his impromptu repose, and there was still enough shade to ensure that he could make it home without risking further injury.
Nursing his injured hand, Spike hurried past the gravestones and noted despite his haste to return to safety that something about the cemetery felt wrong. He paused long enough to take a sweeping view of the cemetery and realised that somehow it seemed bigger, vaster. There were gravestones as far as the eye could see and Spike could no longer tell where its boundaries ended. For a moment, he wondered how that could be until the stinging pain in his hand forced him to shunt the question aside for the moment since he had more pressing concerns. He took the path back to his crypt and found that it too was laced with peculiarities. After calling it his home for almost two years, Spike had come to know the route back almost intimately. He knew the grooves in the dirt and the bare patches where traffic either by human or demon had worn away the grass.
Now, as he took that well-taken path, he found that nothing about it was familiar. It was almost instinct that made him aware of which twists and turns he had to take because the features in the terrain were simply not there. For starters, the grass was overgrown for most of the journey. In some areas, the foliage had almost wholly overtaken the gravestones, and lichens and moss covered the others. There were no signs of flowers or wreaths left behind by loved ones. If anything, the cemetery seemed somewhat neglected. He had no time to think about this further because the need to find safety was paramount, but he did know it had not looked like this the night before. Perhaps he was still lying on that patch of earth he had just left, dreaming this craziness. He knew the Slayer did not think much of him, but she was not that cold to abandon him on the ground to burn up in the sunlight.
If that was true, then where was she?
Another surprise met him when he returned to his crypt. For one thing; it was sealed. He had not sealed it since he had first taken up residence in the place. There was no need to seal it since much of the time he needed to make a quick entry and also there were very few people who would invade a crypt. Knowing someone had been in his private sanctuary, infuriated him, but once again, the time constraints forced him to quell his anger for the moment. The stray bolts of sunlight were becoming more and more frequent, and soon he would not be able to avoid them all. Bracing himself, he gave the marble door a forceful shove and forced it past the doorway. The slab of marble appeared to have been in place for quite some time and required another push before it finally gave way and allowed him entrance.
Spike entered the room swiftly and stopped short as soon as he was safely inside the cold darkness of the vault. The air was not fresh but dank from being sealed for so long, and the mustiness made his heightened senses flinch. There was none of the belongings that made this place his home, nothing but dust and the sealed coffin of the crypt’s original resident.
"What the bloody hell is going on!" Spike demanded with growing anxiety.
It was not just the fact that his things were gone. Far from it actually, it was the fact that the years of dust accumulated over everything was undisturbed as if he had never been here at all. His mind started whirling as he struggled to recall what had happened after he had killed Chornozon. His mind was a little foggy on the details, but his memory was intact. He had put down Chronozon’s host just before the darkness had overwhelmed him and left him where he had awakened. What had happened to Buffy? Had Chronozon hurt her? Spike’s stomach knotted in fear as he thought about that possibility. Chronozon could not have lingered in this plane of existence for long without a host body. However, that was fleeting comfort because even disembodied, the demon was a powerful and malignant force capable of much damage.
Chronozon had spoken about making Spike pay. Did that mean harming Buffy? The possibility of terrified him, and he prayed to whatever he still believed in that she was safe. He convinced himself that the Slayer was strong enough to deal with someone like Chronozon. She had survived all manner of evil since she was called. The girl had killed the Master, the king Vampire that had reigned so long in Sunnydale before her arrival. She had sacrificed the man she loved to save the world from the demon Acathala and defeated the hell god Glory, not to mention the insidious Mayor of Sunnydale in his bid to become a demon. Surely, she would be able to deal with one sinister disembodied creature from Hell? Then against his will, he remembered that she had died fighting Glory and only a spell had given her new life. If Chronozon defeated her this time, there would be no miraculous resurrection. He would take her into hell and Spike would never get her back again.
Damn it to hell. He needed to know if his Slayer was still alive!
Unfortunately, there was little he could do for the moment. His injury was considerable, and it was becoming hard to ignore the pain. Even though he healed rapidly, it would not be fast enough for his liking, and he knew that he needed to rest. Reaching into his duster, he sat down on one of the stone ledges and removed a steel flask from his coat pocket. Holding it awkwardly in between his knees, he managed to unscrew the lid before taking a swig of the alcohol within it. The whiskey tasted as good as it smelled and he took several more hearty swallows to numb the pain.
She could take care of herself as he felt the effects of the liquor. She was the Slayer after all. She had proven to be more than a match for him, and he was sure that when he found her, she would waste no time in treating him like dirt while telling him what an absolute pansy he was for passing out on her when she was fighting Chronozon. Spike kept telling himself that as he continued to drink, feeling the pain dull his senses as he drifted into a restless sleep.
***********
When he woke up again, his hand was no longer aching, but the same could not be said for his head. The contents of his flask had left a rather unpleasant reminder of why it was never wise to imbibe too much of the stuff at any given time. Nevertheless, it did allow him to endure the healing process. His body was required to go through for his hand to mend. Fortunately, Spike was not in danger of emulation as he was the last time he awoke, and through the open door of the crypt, he could see the moon staring back at him rather indifferently. The night awakened his senses the way the day stilled them, and the need to bask in it became overwhelming. He was, after all, a creature of the night, chip or not. When the moon was at its fullest, it was his time, but he would not be hunting for anything but answers.
Examining his hand as he emerged from the crypt, the only signs of the burn he had received was a rapidly diminishing scab of scar tissue over the skin. He flexed his hand experimentally and other than a bit of tightness across the skin, he more or less had full use of it. It was just as well because if Chronozon had hurt Buffy, he would perform the incantation to draw out the demon from Hell just so that Spike could kill him all over again. Upon making his way out of the cemetery, Spike realised his initial observation about the graveyard being larger was right. It was bigger. The headstones went so far that he almost wished that he had his motorcycle with him. Unfortunately, the bike like the rest of his belongings had disappeared, and he had to make the journey on foot. Finally, after what felt like five miles of walking past nothing but headstones and fresh graves (and there seemed to be a lot of those), Spike reached Sunnydale.
At least he thought it was Sunnydale.
The town that he had come to know as a paragon of sunny California living had become a dark parody of itself. Most businesses in the main street were closed, Those that were opened were barred with cloves of garlic and crosses hanging for all to see. It appeared as if the good citizens of Sunnydale had finally realised that they were living on a Hellmouth and were taking the proper precautions. Litter covered the streets, and the boulevards where people loitered in the evenings were deserted. Spike could not imagine what had happened that would turn Sunnydale into this. Buffy would lose her fucking mind if she saw this, he thought to himself and wondered once again where she was. Involuntarily, he was reminded of what the town had looked like when the vampire population learned the Slayer was dead. The parallels to where he found himself now were so strong that he could barely stand it.
He started hastening his pace as he walked up the empty sidewalk, almost breaking into a run to reach the familiar tree-lined street where she lived. He had to know that she was alright because everything he saw right now told him she was not. He could not even allow himself to face the possibility that she might be dead because it was too much for him. If he acknowledged that she might be gone, then he would slink to the floor and wait for the sun to come out again and end his existence. This time he would have the courage to go through with it.
He had not gotten very far when suddenly he heard someone call his name.
"Spike," the voice behind him was familiar but not. He turned around slowly and found himself staring at Xander Harris.
Xander was clad in dark leather and a white T-shirt, looking like someone who stepped out of an old biker movie. Spike could only stare at him for a moment because the young man looked nothing like the whiney whelp the Slayer considered one of her best friends. He looked predatory, wearing a gleam in his eyes that Spike knew all too well.
Oh hell.
"Xander." Spike returned, unable to say anything else because the realisation was too impossible. Xander had the scent of a vampire.
"Where have you been?" Xander asked coolly. "The Boss has been looking for you."
"The Boss?" Spike cocked his brow in bewildered. "Who the hell is the Boss?"
"You’re not supposed to call him that Xander," a new voice entered the mix and Spike decided then and there that the world had gone completely insane when he saw Willow emerging out of shadows, dressed in black leather and looking so much like Dru that it was scary. She wore the same pout on her lips, the same faraway expression and the same lack of humanity. "Spike knows that, don’t you, Spike?"
Willow came to him and ran a finger seductively down his chest, her eyes twinkling in dark passion, and Spike knew that she would tear his throat out with the same seductive smile if he gave her a chance. "You won’t tell the Master, would you?" She asked, her pout becoming almost childlike. "I don’t want him to get mad at my honey."
Spike could feel the raw lust oozing off every pore of her and found it intoxicating. Red was always attractive in a sweet, girl next door kind of way. He had never imagined her a vamp, symbolically or literally but she carried it off beautifully and judging by the way that Xander was looking at her, Spike realised that these two were mates as he and Dru had once been. How could Buffy have allowed this to happen? Spike asked himself. How could she fail these two of all people so terribly? He did not like Xander much, but he respected their friendship with the Slayer, knowing it could not be easy to be there for someone whom by association alone could risk their lives on so many occasions and often did.
"Who turned you?" Spike managed to ask.
Xander stared back at him and laughed. It was not that nervous chuckle that Spike had become accustomed to hearing from the whelp but sinister and cold. It unnerved him hearing it coming from Xander.
"You’re kidding, right?"
"Of course he is," Willow laughed winking at Spike and then at Xander. "Spike’s just playing with us. Spike knows that he’s my sire and then I was your sire, Xander."
"I did this to you?" He almost choked at the horror of it. "When did I do this to you, and how am I still bloody walking around if I did? The slayer would have had my guts for garters by now.’
"The slayer?" Xander started to laugh harder. "Are you alright, Spike? You killed the last slayer. What was her name again?" He asked Willow, unable to remember.
"Kendra," Willow replied. "Pretty Kendra. We left her all for you, Spike. You like to do the Slayers. You do them best."
This was getting worse by the minute. Spike wondered if he had walked into a nightmare because this had to be a dream. It could not possibly be real. And who the bloody hell was Kendra? "Kendra?" He managed to say. "What about Buffy?"
Xander stared at him. "Who?"
***********
He followed them back to the Master’s Lair that ironically enough was situated at the Bronze. Half dazed by the twisted reality he was now experiencing which saw Willow and Xander as vampires, he managed to hold his own in convincing them that he was the Spike they knew, the one (he could not bring himself to say it) who had sired them both. If he had thought the main street of Sunnydale had been bad, what he saw upon entering the Bronze was even worse. Even as he approached it, his senses came alive with the salt of fear. It hung in the air like an aromatic cloud, drawing him into its thrall. He sensed others of his kind and knew that there were many of them. Without understanding how it had happened, Spike accepted that the vampires had taken the night in Sunnydale.
The inside of the Bronze was scattered with cages in which trapped humans waited for death for the first hungry vamp that desired a meal. While some of the pool tables were being used for the games, others were being used as feeding areas where vampires were treating the meal of their choice to a more lethal game. There was music but the band playing was clearly terrified and their eyes showed the fact that they were playing for more than just the music but to keep their vampire masters happy in exchange for their continued existence. In the days before he loved the Slayer, this might have pleased him. In truth, much of it still did. This was the way they were meant to rule and if he had not changed the way he knew he had, he would be joining them but even now, he felt the familiar ache for Buffy inside of him. He wondered what she would have thought of all this and then felt marginally grateful that she was not because he could not imagine her horror at what had been wrought in her world.
What was worse, he soon discovered that upon meeting Xander and Willow in this warped reality, he found that he could remember turning Willow. Unfamiliar images filled his head and he could actually remember her terrified eyes and her pleas for mercy just before he sunk his fangs into her neck and destroyed all that she could ever be. He remembered the warm spurt of her blood into his mouth and how sweet she tasted. It all lingered inside his head waiting only his desire to remember to surface. While he could remember everything from the world where Buffy had been apart of his life, he could also remember everything to do with this reality.
And in this reality, she had never been called as the Slayer.
Therefore it meant she was somewhere else, probably Los Angeles living the life of a normal young woman without the burdens of being the Slayer of vampires and demons. He remembered who Kendra was now. She was the Slayer Dru had killed the night Angelus had attempted to awaken Acathala. Kendra had been called when Buffy had been clinically dead for a few minutes during the battle where she had killed the Master. Kendra had resulted from that death and for the first time ever, there had been two Slayers. If Kendra was the Slayer that had come to Sunnydale then it meant Buffy was never called and somewhere in this world, she was still alive. That thought gave Spike a great deal of comfort because he could find her.
Willow and Xander had separated from him once they entered the Bronze and as he swept his gaze through the darkened crevices of the Bronze, he saw them engaged in some heavy petting in one of the shadowy booths. He always knew those two were close but he never suspected they were that close. He wondered if Xander knew that Willow’s sexual orientation was not as singular as previously believed. Even Spike had raised a brow on that one but then after almost a hundred fifty years of existence, nothing surprised him anymore.
An arm slid around his shoulder and showed him once again how wrong he was.
"You’re all wrong Spikey," a soft voice breathed in his ear.
Spike turned around and found him facing Drusilla. She was staring at him with those all-seeing eyes that knew more than just the surface allowed her to see.
"Dru," Spike responded, pleasantly surprised and happy to see her. Their last parting had been anything but amicable and even though he no longer loved her as once he had, she was still a large part of his existence that he could not forget.
Her hand ran over his face and he could feel her cold breath against his skin. "You’re not my Spike. You’re someone else."
"Don’t be silly Luv," Spike countered quickly, having no wish to be found out when surrounded by hundreds of their kind who would not hesitate to tear him to pieces if they thought he was not one of them. "Haven’t I always taken care of you?" He asked, sliding his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
She came to him obligingly because she knew no other way to be around him but she knew something was wrong. "She fills your head Spike," Drusilla said almost sadly. "The one that doesn’t exist anymore, she’s singing to you even now."
"Doesn’t exist anymore?" Spike asked, not understanding. What did she mean? Drusilla was never wrong about such things. As insane as she was, her insight was almost always accurate. He had assumed that Buffy had not been called as Slayer but when he considered how he had come to be in this place he realized that Chronozon had been seeking to avenge himself against the vampire that had betrayed him. Somehow the demon had seen to it that Spike retained his memories so that he could remember what he had lost and regretted it. Despite the ramifications arising from Buffy never being called to this reality, it still would not stop Spike from finding her. After all, he knew where she had lived before coming to Sunnydale and in this day and age, it would be a simple matter of tracing her.
"She’s gone Spike, rubbed out like a little mark on a piece of paper. She never was now." Drusilla said in a singsong voice.
"You mean dead?" Spike demanded. "Is that what you’re trying to tell me Luv, that she’s dead?"
"Poor Spike," Drusilla replied sadly, her arms encircling his neck and pulling him close. "She’s all gone away and you still can’t let her go, can you? That’s alright my love," she ran a finger over his ear. "I can make you forget her, I can make you mine again."
"I’ll bet you could Dru," Spike responded huskily, his fingers caressing her arms gently. "I’ll bet we had some good times."
He stared into her eyes and thought how easy it would be to let himself be lost in them. However coupled with the new memories in his head, he also had memories of Buffy. He remembered the love for him she could not express even though it burned in her touch when they had come together. When he told her the night after their passionate exchange that she did not love him yet, he honestly believed that in time once she overcame her anxieties of about caring for someone like him that she would feel the same. Now it appeared that would never happen because she did not exist in this reality.
"We could have those times again Spike," Dru said trying to convince him.
"No Luv," he shook his head. "We’re done." With that, he pulled her arms from his neck and broke free of her.
"Spike, you won’t find her," Drusilla called out as he pushed his way through the bodies in the Bronze, both living and dead. "You made her undone."
Spike did not understand what Drusilla meant by that but he knew he had to get out of here. If he stayed any longer he might become lost in the thrill of the hunt with others of his kind, where he was no longer despised but feared as William the Bloody and Buffy would remain lost to him forever. That alone made him walk a lot faster. The chip was gone from his head but his love for Buffy was still in his heart and he could not let her go. Drusilla was right about that.
Spike pushed his way out of the Bronze until he had emerged into the night sky once more. The fresh air felt good in his lungs and he took several deep breaths of it to steady himself, hoping that perhaps clarity of vision might chase away this nightmare he had woken up into. He started walking because it was only a matter time before someone discovered that he was not the Spike they remembered if Drusilla did not give him away first. She might love him but that did not change the fact that she was as mad as Hatter and was more than capable of blurting out the truth at the most inconvenient times.
Besides, with everything else that had gone wrong today, Spike had no desire to face the Master who would be less than impressed to know that one of his own had fallen under the spell of the slayer. Unintentionally, Spike found himself at the house that he remembered as being the Slayer’s home. The tree behind which he had stood on many a night and looked into her room was still there thankfully, for all the good it did him.
The house that was home to the slayer was gutted by fire. Boards were placed on the windows and the look of dilapidation had well and truly sunk into the place. It was obvious no one had inhabited it for quite some time. Spike stood under the tree for a long time, taking a smoke as he often did beneath that tree trying to decide what to do. Drusilla said that Buffy never existed in this reality. What had Dru meant when she said that he had made Buffy undone? What the bloody hell sense was that supposed to make? How could he be responsible for Buffy being gone other than inspiring Chronozon’s hatred? He stood there in the darkness, contemplating how it might be possible that he was responsible for Buffy’s non-existence by shifting through the new memories in his mind. It was difficult to make out.
He remembered killing Kendra, watching her life drain out of her eyes as he defeated her in battle and then draining the life from her. He recalled joining the Master once he had returned from his exile beneath the Hellmouth, taking his place as one of the Master’s brightest, right along with Drusilla and Darla. Darla? She still lived apparently because Angel had never been forced to choose between her and Buffy. Spike could not recall what exactly had happened to the vampire with a soul but he was certain there was something in his new memories about good ol’ peaches. The further he went back into the past, the more things settled into the memories he knew from his own reality, his arrival in Sunnydale with Drusilla and the wanderings across Europe for the better part of fifty years following the loss of Angelus. Those memories were identical to what he knew of his life in his own reality.
Suddenly, a new memory surfaced that bore little resemblance to what he remembered to the past he had lived. He had accepted that certain things were different. What Sunnydale had become was proof of that but it made no sense that the distant past should have been altered by his arrival in this reality. Spike knew that taking Buffy away from him was Chronozon’s revenge but he could not understand what it had to do with this new memory that had taken place more than a century after she was born. He closed his eyes and allowed the vivid imagery to unfold, mesmerized by the memories he knew he had never experienced before...
***********
Angelus told him to stay put that night but he could not help himself.
They were supposed to keep a low profile. After all, they had done Europe from one end of the continent to the other and Angelus was bored. He wanted something different. Someplace where the feeding was good and their kind was not known. Darla had suggested America. They came aboard a schooner, leaving it drained of life by the time they disembarked at New York. America was a place of chaos with migrants coming from the Old World by the boatload, most were confused and disorientated by the vastness of their new home. They were a feast for a vampire’s delight.
They stayed in New York for months, draining so many that it became impossible for authorities to ignore and soon there was danger in remaining. Angelus wanted to travel to California and Darla was more than happy to accommodate him. Drusilla as always wished to stay close to her ‘daddy’ as she called Angelus but there was nothing paternal about their relationship, Spike thought bitterly. Still, his black princess never ceased to remind him whom it was that she really loved even when her loyalties were divided. They travelled across America, unable to deny the beauty of the New World while partaking in sinful pleasures in the bodies they fed upon and with each other. It was a splendid time to be alive.
Then they paused at a small town in New Mexico, a little place with nothing much to recommend it other than the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere and it seemed like a good place for a little bit of amusement. Of course, the danger for vampires in a small town was how quickly they could be exposed so Angelus had instructed them to select their prey carefully. The town had lawmen, seven of them who were quite formidable and Angelus had taken a liking to the local newspaper editor with the golden hair. He had been planning on playing his games with her, the kind Spike had no patience for and Darla often indulged him because in the end it was she he always returned to.
Spike had every intention of doing the same but laying low was never his best attribute and he found himself pitted against a smooth-talking gambler who had taken all his money and oozed arrogance doing it. Spike had barely considered the ramifications when he waylaid the man later that night and tore out his throat, he did not expect the ruthless determination in which his six companions would seek to avenge his death. The family had barely escaped the town alive and Angelus had almost killed him for ruining his chances with the pretty widow.
As for the man, Spike had barely remembered his name, although he did know it.
It was Standish, Ezra Standish.
***********
A scream tore through his consciousness and snapped him out of his reverie.
Shaking the memories out of his head, Spike instinctively followed the scent of fear that had been produced by that frightened cry and dashed across the street towards the shadowy space between two dilapidated houses. It was instinct that drew him there even though he was hardly in the most heroic frame of mind. However, patrolling with Buffy and being the outcast member of the Scooby gang for the last two years had left its mark upon him to his utmost chagrin just as being unable to ignore a cry for help was part and parcel of loving a Slayer. It did not even occur to Spike that saving a human from one of his kind could earn him an unimaginable death if the Master were to get his hands on him. Not until he arrived in the alley and saw the young woman trying to fight off the trio of vampires that were descending upon her like a pack of wolves.
He paused a moment, revelling in the smell of her fear and the blood that was rushing wildly through her veins. He imagined how she would taste and for an instant, he almost joined his undead brethren in the feeding to come. Without the chip, he could do that and since Buffy did not exist, he was perfectly justified in doing so. However, he also realised that in her absence, he was all that was left of Buffy in this world. She lived inside him and warmed his cold lifeless heart and if he let this poor woman die, it would make her mark upon him worthless and Spike could not bear that.
"Hello lads," Spike spoke up as he swaggered brashly through them, making his way towards the young woman who was quivering in fear "Looks like you got a tasty bit of fun here."
"She’s ours, Spike," one of them said boldly but he could tell the others were newborns and the prospect of going head to head with a Master Vampire was rather daunting.
"Go find someone else," Spike said confidently, certain that he could take care of this without throwing a punch. He knew how to judge the enemy and right now the enemy was not looking that impressive. He reached for her and brushed the lock of hair out of her face. She pulled away from his touch, sniffling uncontrollably because she knew she was caught and escape now was impossible. She did not notice the startled expression on his face.
"No way..." one of the vampires started to say.
"NOW!" Spike roared as his human mask felt away and revealed demon savagery.
It was more than enough to force the others into withdrawal. They knew who he was and he was the Master’s brightest. He was William the Bloody and he had killed three slayers. There was no contest. They left rather abruptly. Spike waited until he could scent them no more before he faced the young woman again, this time his demon visage had evaporated revealing his human face.
"Tara?" Spike asked. "It's you isn’t it Luv? You’re the witch. Look its alright, I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk."
She stared at him astonished, all traces of her previous fear gone completely. She was almost composed. "How...how... do you know my name?" She stammered.
"I just do," Spike sighed wondering why he had expected her to remember him as any more than one of the vampires that had been terrorizing Sunnydale. "I don’t expect you to bloody well understand. I can’t wrap my head around it either but it seems I’m stuck in this nightmare until I work out how to fix things."
"I don’t understand," Tara looked at him, fear dissolving into puzzlement. "You saved me."
"Well look who decided to join the conversation," he rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Yeah, I saved you. I thought we established this already."
"But you’re Spike." She pointed out.
"I’m glad you here to tell me these things Luv, otherwise I’d be in an awful bloody state wouldn’t I?" He said impatiently. It was not her fault that she did not know him, he sighed. To her, he was the enemy and she would never be able to see him as anything else. Exhaling deeply, he turned to her and remarked. "It’s not safe for you to be out in the dark when so many of us are running around. I’d best walk you home. Make sure you get there in one piece."
"Are you for real?" She exclaimed.
Spike shook his head and retorted with annoyance, "If I was going to bite you, I’d a done it already and to tell you the truth, there wouldn’t be much you could do about it."
"I wouldn’t say that," someone said behind Spike.
"I figured you’d turn up sooner or later," Spike turned around and faced Angel. "Let me guess, you don’t know who Buffy is either?"
"Buffy?" The vampire Angel stared at him in confusion. "Is that your new girlfriend?"
Spike snorted and strode up to the vampire that was his grandsire, the vampire with a soul who had captured Buffy’s heart long before he came along and as much as Spike hated to admit, might still have it.
"No, you bleeding pillock!" He growled. "She’s the woman that we both love! Or at least I do since you don’t seem to remember bugger all about her. She was a Slayer!" He knew that no one understood a thing he was saying but Spike did not care. He felt the sudden need to vent. "I swear if I die in this place I am going to hell to tear Chronozon a new one!"
Tara and Angel looked at each other in confusion, wondering if William the Bloody had lost his mind.
"Is that Spike?" Giles emerged from the shadows.
"It looks like him," Angel started to say.
"Giles?" Spike whirled around at the first sign of hope he had encountered since being thrust into this warped universe. "Watcher?"
Giles stared at the vampire known as William the Bloody and was puzzled at why he was being smiled at with such familiarity. "How do you know I was a watcher? I’ve told no one that."
"That’s your business," Spike shrugged, not caring about Giles’ bewilderment but whether or not the watcher could help him. "Right now, you need to help me."
"Help you?" Angel stared at him in derision. "You got to be kidding."
"Listen to me you stupid bastard," Spike glared at him. "The only woman that you or I have ever loved is gone because some demon decided to take his revenge on me by wiping her out of existence. Everything in this bright and cheery vampire paradise is because she never was. So if you couldn’t care less about helping me, then think about helping yourselves. Trust me, the world is a hell of a lot more pleasant with her in it."
"You keep saying her, who do you mean?" Giles inquired.
"We shouldn’t be having this conversation out here in the open," Angel interrupted before Spike could speak His gaze swept his gaze in the surrounding area. "We should get indoors."
"Good idea," Spike agreed and flinched at the notion that he and Angel had agreed on anything.
God, he going to make Chronozon pay for this.
***********
Within the confines of the church that acted as the headquarters for Giles and his group, Spike endured the chains that were tied around him in order to gain the watcher’s help in restoring reality to what it once was and more importantly, restoring Buffy back to him. It appeared that Giles, Tara and Angel were part of an underground resistance movement determined to eradicate the vampire menace from Sunnydale. However, judging by their surroundings and by their numbers, it seemed that they were facing an uphill battle. Once again, there were familiar faces around him. For instance, the cheerleader who used to date the whelp, Cordelia, if he remembered correctly was also present.
"He saved you?" Cordelia stared at Tara in disbelief as they stood around Spike who was firmly secured to the chair, studying him like he was a carnival curiosity.
"Yes," Tara nodded. "He kept babbling about someone named Buffy. I don’t think he’s right in the head."
"As opposed to what?" Angel retorted as he came up alongside Cordelia and wrapped an arm around her waist in a clearly intimate gesture.
Spike’s brow shot up at that and wondered if Angel had any idea what would happen if he and Cordelia became any more familiar with each other then they already were. The demon in him decided to remain silent about that little feature of the Angel Curse. Besides, he had larger concerns to worry about at this time. "You’re the one to talk," Spike glared at Angel. "There was a time when you’d be snacking on this group instead of helping them."
"Angel is not like you," Cordelia returned defensively, proving that she was not as secure about Angel’s noble nature as she might like to believe.
"Whatever," Spike shrugged not about to get into a sparring match with a cheerleader. "Listen, Watcher, you need to help me out here. You help me out and this little paradise of yours changes back to the way it was and trust me, it’s for the better, for you lot anyway."
Giles was pouring over his ancient books, having been given the name of Chronozon earlier when Spike had agreed to be chained up. The watcher raised his eyes above the rim of his glasses and remarked, "well the demon Chronozon does exist although he is mostly a disembodied force. His powers, however, are considerable."
"You don’t actually believe him do you?" Angel stared at Giles in disbelief as he stood over Spike, preparing to act if he gave Angel the slightest bit of trouble. He did not trust Spike. His demon half may have had a lengthy history with the younger vampire but his human side knew him for the bloodthirsty creature that he was.
"Oy!" Spike barked. "Stick your nose out of this, Peaches. Why don’t you take the cheerleader out the back and show her what a real man you are, I’ll wager it will bring out a whole new side of you."
"SHUT UP!" Angel swore, striking Spike across the jaw.
"That’s enough the both of you," Giles ordered sharply. "Angel, I wish to hear him out."
Angel glowered and Spike flexed his lower jaw, shaking the sting of the older vampire’s punch from his bruised mouth.
"You heard him," Spike couldn’t resist adding. "Now sod off for a while."
"Spike," Giles turned to him with just as much venom. "My patience isn’t infinite. Get on with it. You said that Chronozon is involved. How?"
"I told you," Spike hissed with anger, "he made Buffy disappear. She was the Slayer."
"Kendra was the Slayer," Angel said in a low voice. "You killed her."
"I’m not going to quibble with you all right?" Spike glanced briefly at Angel before facing Giles again. "The last thing I remember before waking up in this crazy place was helping Buffy fight Chronozon. He was royally pissed that I was helping the Slayer instead of keeping up the old guard you know and after I’d done his host in, he was forced to go back to hell but not before claiming he was going to take his revenge. I’m assuming this is it."
"And his revenge was what?" Giles looked at him sceptically. "Send you to a world that is ruled by vampires? Hardly fitting revenge, if an act of revenge at all."
"His revenge was Buffy!" Spike snapped. "He knew I loved her! He knew that I’d turned my back on the life because of her and that’s how he was going to get his revenge by making her gone!"
"You fell in love with a slayer?" Angel snorted. The irony of it was too much for him.
"Don’t laugh so hard mate," Spike returned sarcastically. "I wasn’t the only one. You’re one broody grim bastard with poofter hair because of her."
"You’re telling me, the absence of one Slayer did all this?" Giles asked Spike, unable to believe the absence of one girl could alter the course of events so dramatically.
"She wasn’t just one slayer as you put it," Spike replied. "She was your Slayer. She killed the Master long before he had a chance to turn Sunnydale into a community buffet."
"I was never given the privilege of being the Watcher to a slayer," Giles responded turning away. "Kendra was not mine to watch or guide."
"Buffy was," Spike responded, letting his mind drift away for a second as he remembered Buffy and all the things that she was, unaware that he was speaking his thoughts out loud. "She was beautiful and strong. She’d bleed herself dry if it meant she could save the world. She was the best Slayer I’d ever come up against, never could kill her though. You don’t kill someone like Buffy, you just stay by her side and try to be there for her. Sometimes you even hope that you can take away some of that weight from her shoulders because no one that young should have to face all that she has to and have be alone as well. I love her. I would have died for her thousand times over if I had to."
"You do have it bad," Tara stated.
Spike bristled immediately, feeling stupid that he had exposed his feelings like a schoolchild in front of all these strangers. However, he had to prove to them that he truly cared about Buffy because, without their help, he had no way to get her back.
"Well," Spike shrugged. "I’m love’s bitch and I’m not afraid to admit it."
"Charmingly put," Giles frowned and then added. "However against my judgement, I tend to believe you and if there’s a chance that one girl can change this hell we’ve been living in since the Master arrived, then I have to take it. We’ve got to get Buffy back."
I’m gonna kill Chronozon when I get my hands on the bleeding bastard!
This and many similar thoughts of murder and mayhem filled Spike’s mind as he found himself in the unsavoury position of having to trust Giles and Angel to find a way out of this crazy reality he was now trapped. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, the one he had been tied to the last few hours, he felt his limbs ache from their confinement and came to the conclusion that he did not dislike them as much as he disliked himself at this moment. Why was he enduring this humiliation, tied to a chair like some kind of animal, with the cheerleader and the witch armed with crossbows, ready to shoot him at the slightest show of danger? There was no chip in his head so he could happily kill all of them, starting with Peaches. For so long he wanted the damn thing to be gone and now that it was, what was he doing? He was consorting with the enemy in order to get it back! He should have been revelling in the freedom of this reality where vampires ruled the night; instead he was unable to stomach any of it because Buffy did not exist.
There was no end to Fate’s cruelty, Spike decided.
Still when he looked at the cheerleader, at Cordelia, he saw that in this reality she was much changed. Sure, she was never very smart, the beautiful ones seldom were, except for Buffy - of course in that instance he was somewhat biased. Yet as he studied Cordelia now, there was hardness in her eyes and a grim determination that did resemble Buffy to some degree. She had seen a lot. In the other world, she had been a flighty thing with nary a thought in her head that did not believe that she was the centre of the known universe. However, there was none of that here. Even Tara who was as sweet and unassuming as they come, seemed to have that same steel in her eyes but Spike supposed that in this place, that kind of nerve was needed for survival.
"Hey Cordelia," Spike called out, curious as to what had turned a party girl like Cordelia into a vampire hunter. "What are you doing here? I thought you’d be more concerned about becoming prom queen or the next ‘it’ girl."
Cordelia glared at him. "That’s none of your business."
"Oh come on," Spike urged. "I’m interested, really."
"Shut up Spike," Tara ordered, glancing anxiously at Cordelia whose eyes had suddenly softened with something Spike recognized immediately as terrible sadness.
"I was just asking," Spike returned, his voice no longer taunting but somewhat gentle. "I’m just surprised to see you with Peaches that’s all. I thought you’d be with the whelp."
"The whelp?" She knotted her brow in confusion.
"Xanderrrr." Spike replied in his best American accent.
"Xander’s dead." Cordelia returned. "Or might as well be."
With that she lowered her crossbow and walked away from Tara and Spike, unable to face either as emotions she could not bear to have them see surfaced within her. Spike watched her go, feeling a little sorry for hurting her on such a personal level. He did not mind the odd taunts that annoyed but he did not relish pain that cut to the heart because he knew all too well how that felt from the thoughtlessness of others. He also understood now what had driven Cordelia to Angel and to this group of vampire hunters; Xander’s turning. It also made sense that upon being turned, Willow would seek out Xander first. They were after all best friends for most of their lives and now it appeared they would be soul mates through eternity as well. It had to hurt Cordelia a great deal.
"I’m sorry," Spike apologised but she did not hear.
"You’re such a jerk," Tara frowned, looking worriedly after Cordelia.
"Were you and Red an item too?" Spike asked.
"Red?" Tara stared at him in confusion.
"Willow," Spike retorted impatiently. "Were you and Willow together?’
"The vampire Willow?" Tara’s face evaporated in shock.
"I’m guessing that’s a no." Spike deduced by her astonished expression. "So when did Peaches enter the picture?"
"Why do you keep calling him that?" Tara asked wondering what other curve balls Spike was going to throw at him.
"It’s an old joke," he replied with a little smile. "What’s the story with him?"
"He came here to stop you and Drusilla from awakening the demon Acathala," Tara spoke and then recanted. "The other you."
"I decided to wake Acathala?" Spike shook his head in disbelief. "Manchester United must have lost the Cup or the bloody Aussies have won the damn cricket again, can’t think of any other reason to be that depressed enough to want to end the world."
"You killed the slayer that night." Tara declared, as if defying him to remember. "You killed Kendra but Angel stopped Acathala. When it was all over, he stayed here to help us with the Master."
Spike remembered. He knew how things had gone in his reality but he also remembered the way it had transpired in this one. The Master had been furious at him and Drusilla for almost ending the vampire paradise he had created for himself and only his fondness for them had kept him from killing them both. He remembered fighting Kendra and how he had taken her life and his third slayer. It had been an exhilarating experience and one that worthy of the keeping. However, he knew that it was false. It was a phantom created by Chronozon to torture him with Buffy’s non-existence and once again he wished he could have killed more than just the demon’s host.
Spike was about to comment when Giles and Angel returned, obviously having conferred about the legitimacy of Spike’s claim. Angel would be the sceptic, Spike decided, even with a soul Peaches knew what he was and how dangerous he could be. Spike just hoped he did not manage to convince Giles the same. At this moment, the watcher was the only person alive who might be able to help him return to the world he knew and Spike could not afford to alienate him. Giles gave him a hard stare as he approached, as if trying to discern whether or not Spike’s words were genuine or was this some trick to end the threat of the vampire hunters.
"Tell us everything that’s happened to you since you emerged in this reality." Giles spoke upon reaching him. Angel was glaring at him with stake in hand and Spike knew that the vampire with a soul would stake him at a moment’s notice if he so much as breathed wrong.
Spike let out a deep breath, aware that it was necessary even though he had no wish to relive the whole sorry tale of how he had come to be here. He omitted a few facts however, like Chronozon’s cruel taunts about Buffy not loving him. They did not need to have that much detail. Giles listened closely while Angel seemed to take his words with a grain of salt and the two vampires spent much of the narration glaring at each other. When it was done, no one was more grateful than Spike He did not much care for justifying his reasons for wanting Buffy back and having to do it to people he did not think too highly off was even worse.
"How extraordinary," Giles said after a moment of silence following the conclusion of Spike’s tale.
"I’m glad you think so," Spike returned sarcastically. "Can you help me or not?" He asked impatiently.
"I don’t think its that simple," Giles retorted with a frown. "The spell that Chronozon used could be any number of things, attempting to break it would be extremely difficult."
"I’m kind of curious to know why every memory of your past before coming to Sunnydale is identical except the time in the old west." Angel added, showing that he was listening and giving some measure of credence to Spike’s story even if he did not want to trust his former minion.
"I wondered about that," Spike nodded in agreement. "Everything else is the same except that. What I remember is that we never came to America, until the next century. Darla liked the high life in Europe, at least until you got your soul back and then we went our separate ways. I think she came to Sunnydale before any of us to join the Master while me and Dru stayed in Europe."
"I remember," Angel said quietly, trying not to think too much of his demon’s feelings for Darla and how a part of him would always be attracted to her. Cordelia shifted uncomfortably as if she knew what he was thinking and was not happy about it.
"You killed someone there you said?" Giles looked at him.
"Yeah some gambler named Standish," Spike responded and something about that bothered him a great deal. "I remember that I did it but I can’t for the life of me remember why. Most of them time I couldn’t care less about killing anyone over bleeding poker. That’s a mug’s game if you ask me, killing someone just because you couldn’t win fair and square. I’m no welsher."
Giles pondered the question for a moment before he found himself glancing at Spike again. "What do you know about Buffy’s family?"
"Her family?" Spike’s brow shot up in confusion. "She had a mum and a little sister, the niblet but there’s a long story behind how that come to be and I’m not in the mood for telling it. Her mum was a nice lady though, use to make me hot chocolate with marshmallows in it. Joyce would listened to me prattle on like a git about Dru after she left me, like she really cared you know? I was sorry when she died."
He looked up to see the others staring at him.
"Marshmallows?" Angel snorted.
"Sod off." Spike growled and felt intensely annoyed by the snigger that came from Angel at his chagrin.
"Could we get back to the subject?" Giles frowned, lowering himself at the nearby desk in front of a thin laptop. "What was her mother’s name?"
"Joyce," Spike retorted. "Like I said."
"I mean her maiden name." Giles hissed.
"Oh," he replied quietly, searching his mind for the answer and remembering that Joyce had told him once. When the answer came to him, his eyes flared open and for a second his heart turned even colder in his chest. "Bloody hell," his voice escaped him in a strangled whisper. "It was Standish. Her maiden name was Standish."
"Just as I thought," Giles thought as his fingers flew across the keyboard and he found the information that he was looking for. "There is a record of a Hank Summers but not of a Joyce Standish."
"THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Spike growled, his face turning into a vampire with such rage that the ropes binding him snapped free when he stood up, wanting to kill something, anything. "THE FUCKING BASTARD!"
Cordelia and Tara started to raise their crossbows but Angel shook his head, believing there was no danger because he had seen the realization sink into the younger vampire’s face and it was the horror of what he had done had inspired this bout of fury.
"I KNEW IT!" Spike ranted, feeling such an unbelievable surge of rage that he could barely contain it. He should have known that there was more to Chronozon’s revenge than simply taking his Slayer away from him. He wanted Spike to suffer, to know that he was the one responsible for her absence because it was he who had killed her ancestor, thus negating her entire existence. "He made me the one to destroy her! I’ll kill the bastard! Hey Peaches you can stake me now! I’m going to hell to tear that fucking demon apart!"
"Sure," Angel started to take a step towards the ranting vampire with a stake in his hand.
"Steady on!" Spike glared at him. "I was raving!"
"You expected to just let that lie there?" Angel smiled.
"So we now we know what’s happened," Giles returned to the small group. "You caused the death of Buffy’s ancestor that had altered the timeline."
"I guess so," Spike hissed, still seething in fury. His features shifted back to his human face but he was still furious. "The question is what can I do about it? Unless one of you have a HG Wells time machine so I can go back and stop myself from doing it, we’re screwed."
"No, nothing like that, unfortunately," Giles answered. Despite Spike’s crude description of their situation, Giles had to admit he was right, there might not be anything they could do to change things back. "I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done."
"I refuse to believe that," Spike said in a perfectly sober voice. "I won’t let her end this way. If she is to die, she deserves a slayer’s death. She shouldn’t end like this without even being given a chance to face her killer."
"You’re her killer." Cordelia pointed.
"Thank you for pointing that out," Spike threw a dark look in her direction and then said to Angel, "you always liked the dumb ones."
"There’s a spell," Tara who had been silent all this time announced, silencing Angel before he had a chance to defend Cordelia’s IQ and capturing their undivided attention.
"A spell?" Giles looked at the young woman. He was aware that she dabbled with magic on occasion. Tara never spoke about such episodes but the proof of her ability was considerable even if Giles never considered she might have the power to conjure a spell as complex as the one she was proposing. It worried him that she would try it and yet he could not imagine any other way that they might undo what the demon Chronozon had wrought by his vengeance on Spike.
"Yes," Tara nodded shyly, hating it when everyone’s attention was her. Spike was staring at her with hope as if he believed she could do it or needed to anyway. "There is spell that could send Spike back to the West, to the town where he killed Buffy’s ancestor. If he could stop what he did back there, it might return things to normal again."
"Is it dangerous?" Cordelia asked, concerned not for Spike but rather for Tara. Since the Master’s return from exile, Cordelia had seen those she loved die one after the other. First Willow, Xander, Harmony and so many others she could no longer count. When she had joined Giles to fight the vampires, Tara had become her friend and in this world where so much was uncertain and death was a constant, Cordelia strove to keep the few friends she had in her life. "I mean could you get hurt?"
"I don’t think so," Tara answered. "But it is a difficult spell and he’ll still have to be brought back. I would have to go with him."
"No!" Angel and Spike said simultaneously.
"There’s no way!" Cordelia added.
"I’ll go with her." Giles stated.
"Oh this is bloody great!" Spike retorted. "Not only am I going to have to stop myself from killing this Standish bloke, I also have to do it while protecting you two?"
"It won’t work any other way," Tara stated. "Do you want Buffy back or not?"
That stopped any further protestations but Spike was not happy about it. He did not reveal that it was not just his past self he would have to deal with but also Angelus, Darla and Drusilla who would undoubtedly be accompanying him. How was he going to deal with three vampires on his own?
"Giles," Angel spoke up. "This is dangerous. You’re needed here."
"I know," Giles swallowed, not about to hide the fact that he was worried about his life and the world he would be leaving behind. "However, if this works, there will be no Master and," he paused and gave Spike a glimpse. "I am her watcher."
"You don’t know that for sure." Angel returned.
"No I don’t," Giles sucked in his breath. "But I have to believe that there’s something out there better than this."
"Trust me," Spike returned. "There is."
Giles stared and him and retorted, "don’t take this personally Spike but it doesn’t comfort me knowing that coming from you."
***********
"I should be going with you," Angel said to Giles as he saw Tara finishing her preparations for the time travel spell.
"No you can’t," Giles shook his head even before Angel could complete the sentence. "You need to stay because if we fail and we’re trapped there for any reason, you will have to continue the fight without us."
"Don’t say that," Angel responded, a stricken expression on his face. They had been through so much together over the years that the thought of losing the thoughtful and brave librarian was more than Angel could stand. He had learnt a great deal from Giles, more than he had learnt in almost two hundred years of existence and could easily say that he had been influenced greatly by the association. "Of course, you’ll come back."
"I’m sure I will," Giles was not about to repudiate that statement, wondering of Angel had fully considered the consequences of what would happen if they were indeed successful. This entire timeline would cease to be. Their friendship, his love for Cordelia and everything he had become since coming to Sunnydale would also disappear. There was also the possibility that Spike was lying to them and if he was, it would be best if one of them was on hand to discover what his intentions was. However, inwardly, Giles did not believe that Spike was lying and if he was not, then there was a chance to restore the timeline and erase this terrible world from ever coming into being.
"But it is also wise to take precautions." He added, hoping that would make it easier for Angel to accept.
Angel nodded begrudgingly, aware that Giles words had been spoken to appease him and was no reassurance in itself. However, Giles was correct, an existence where the Master was not the lord over a kingdom of vampires was too good to risk slipping by. They had one chance at it and Giles had to take it for all their sakes.
"We’re ready," Tara called out once she and Cordelia were done with the preparations. "We should begin."
Giles swallowed thickly, unable to deny his apprehension and noted that Spike had already stepped into the circle that Tara had created. The vampire’s face revealed no sign of fear, just an eagerness to begin and at that moment, Giles could well believe that he had lost his heart to a slayer and was desperate to get her back at any costs. The irony of it seemed straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy.
"Alright then," Giles speaking with a confidence he did not feel. "Let’s get on with it."
***********
FOUR CORNERS – The Standish Saloon
Inez Recillos watched the proceedings with a sigh, wishing that her employer’s son would finish his game and leave. She wanted to close up for the night but it was extremely bad manners to do so when her last customers of the night were engaged in a rather intense game of poker. A few others had remained to watch the proceedings with her but the majority of the tavern’s clientele had staggered home for the evening. It was not as if she was unaccustomed to late nights herself but there was something odd about the opponent that Ezra Standish was playing. The manner in which he stared across the table at Ezra was unnerving, even to one who was watching it from a distance away. She wondered how Ezra could stand it.
"How much longer do you think he’s gonna last?" Vin Tanner, one of the peacekeepers in the town of Four Corners, inquired of Inez as he looked over his shoulder from the counter.
"Knowing Ezra," Chris Larabee shrugged. "Who knows? Although it looks like the Englishman might give him a run for his money."
"Not a chance," Inez said confidently, "Ezra plays to win and if thought he’d lose he would not be taking this all the way."
Neither man chose to question the lady since she was had been privy to Ezra’s all night sessions more than they were lately. Since becoming the manager of the Standish Tavern, Inez had plenty of opportunity to observe the gambler in action and if there was one thing that either Chris or Vin was not about to refute, it was a woman’s intuition.
Ezra Standish had no difficulty playing under the intense gaze of his opponent. As a professional gambler, he had learnt to become indifferent to scowls and daggers thrown in his direction during a game and distraction, like skill was all a part of the play. He could not deny that he enjoyed playing cards with the Englishman called William Marsden, although he had a great deal of difficulty reading him as easily as he did previous opponents. There was something in the eyes that seemed predatory and a great deal like Chris Larabee’s but it was hard to equate anything so dark with the pale young man in his eastern clothes and his refined accent.
William and his companions had arrived in town less than a week ago and had caused a stir of gossip throughout the community from the moment they arrived. Ezra himself had to admit he was curious while Chris merely took a cautious view of them as he would with any strangers. William’s companions, a rather ethereal beauty named Drusilla was absent tonight but when they were together, mostly in the evenings, they were inseparable. It was thought that they were rich aristocrats from abroad, living the high life with behaviour that seemed very much the stock of the indolent rich. With William and his lady were another couple, a dark broody Irishman who gave Chris a run for his money in the tall, dark and mysterious department and an incredibly gorgeous golden haired beauty that had Buck Wilmington salivating at the sight of her.
They seemed pleasant enough, carousing to all hours of the night which explained why they slept half the day away and only seemed to emerged when the sun had dipped into the horizon. They enjoyed doing the rounds of the saloons in Four Corners and there were trips to Eagle Bend and Bitter Creek where they apparently soaked in the local colour there. After a few days, the novelty of their presence seemed to fade and Chris had muttered something about them probably being on their way when they were got bored with things around here. On this occasion, the older couple had gone to watch a troop of actors performing in Bitter Creek. Josiah Sanchez had taken Buck Wilmington and JD Dunne with him to watch the same show. Ezra had no taste for watching Marlowe being performed badly so he had opted to remain in town choosing to spend the night at the tables.
He was surprised when William joined the table where he was holding court with a number of local opponents.. Ezra supposed those who travelled the continent with nothing to do but enjoying the delights of high society would be familiar with the game and the chance to play with a capable opponent was welcomed. That was almost four hours ago and since then the process of fiscal elimination had chased off the others at the table and after William’s lady friend had retired for the night, it was just the two of them. He had to confess he had not engaged in such a challenging game for quite some time and he enjoyed every second of it. However, a quick glance at Inez’s directions told him that the lady was waiting for them to finish and he took pity on her by deciding that it was time to make a play where winner would take all. William had not shirked from this prospect and even seemed pleased at the risk. His full lips curling into a little smile when Ezra made the suggestion.
"I must commend your skill Mr. Marsden," Ezra remarked.
"Spike." He said shortly.
"Spike?" Ezra raised his brow over the edge of his cards. "As in railroad?"
A little smile crossed William’s face, as if he was enjoying some tremendous joke that Ezra was not privy to. "Something like that."
"As I was saying ‘Spike", I have enjoyed this game. In my line of work, its unusual for me to come across a worthy opponent but I must say you’ve been one of the most challenging in a while." Ezra responded. "However, I am tired and I think its time to draw the night to a close."
"You have some unfinished business," William the Bloody pointed out, sitting up straight in his chair. "You can’t leave the table unless you finish the game."
"I’m afraid I can," Ezra smiled sweetly and laid down his cards, revealing a perfect Royal Flush. "And I don’t intent to leave empty handed."
William’s eyes flashed in anger and outrage, a thousand different emotions surfaces and disappeared from his eyes in a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened as if he had not anticipated losing and did not at all like it. He raised his eyes to Ezra and the gambler was somewhat taken back by the fury he saw there. For a second, Ezra thought he might attack and braced himself for a fight but then the expression faded away from his opponent’s face and William leaned back into his chair, letting his cards fall onto the table in a gesture of concession.
"Well played," he commended. "I didn’t see it coming at all."
"Its what I do," Ezra returned smoothly, unable to forget that look in William’s eyes and was now on guard for trouble. He hoped it would not turn ugly especially when he looked forward to playing the young man again. "You did however, remind me how important it is to keep one’s skill sharply honed. It could have gone the other way."
"I’m sure it could," William said politely and rose to his feet. "I think I shall call it a night. Congratulations on your win," his voice was almost mischievous.
Ezra began to wonder what the man found so amusing. He would have asked but he was more grateful that William had chosen to lose gratefully and not have the evening end with violence so he refrained from asking. "Thank you and I hope we will do this again."
"We will play again," William smiled as he turned away. "You can be assured of that."
Ezra watched him go, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he left. His instincts screamed caution at him but for the life of him he could not understand why. William Marsden did not look particularly threatening but Ezra still felt something cold had run down his spine at the mention of the man’s last remark. Once he had gone, Ezra went back to the business of collecting his money from the table, unable to shake that uneasy feeling that had been engendered by the Englishman.
"You haven’t lost your touch," Vin remarked as he approached the gambler at his table.
"I was unaware that that was ever in doubt," Ezra retorted.
"I don’t know," Chris teased. "It looked pretty close for awhile there."
"To the amateur, perhaps." Ezra gave them both a confident smirk. "However, I always had things in hand."
"Sure you did," Chris said sceptically and downed the contents of his glass. "That’s it," the gunslinger announced after he had finished drinking. "I’m done for the night. I’m going back to my shack."
"Me too," Vin yawned. "What about you Ez? Gonna try and scare up another sucker?"
"Not here he’s not," Inez declared as she cleared a table near them. "I’m closing up for the night. I need my beauty sleep."
"You are far too lovely to ever require repose to upkeep your loveliness," Ezra smirked.
"Christ," Vin rolled his eyes.
"Someone had to speak for Buck," Ezra grinned as Inez shook her head in resignation that she was washing her hands of all of them.
"And we thank you for it," Chris drawled. "Come on, let’s give Inez a break and get out of here."
"Thank you Senor," the sultry Mexican barmaid said with a grateful smile.
"I suppose I ought to take my winnings and retire for the evening," Ezra declared at the three men walked towards the bat wing doors. "I take it you are going to crawl into that wagon of yours?"
"Sure thing," Vin nodded. "It’s got everything I need."
"I seriously doubt that," Ezra replied, unable to imagine how the tracker could get any sleep in that uncomfortable wagon. Just thinking about spending the night in such surroundings made him grateful for the featherbed that he would soon be slumbering upon.
"You’re too soft for your own good," Vin retorted.
"I like to think of it being polished," the gambler grinned.
"Far be it for me to leave while you are guys are having this intellectual discussion but I’m heading home before my hangover hits. You want to be in bed for something like that. See you tomorrow," Chris replied and headed towards the livery where his horse was stabled.
"I’ll see you tomorrow too Ez," Vin bade the gambler tonight and disappeared into the darkened street where his wagon was situated.
Ezra watched him go for a second wondering how anyone could spend the night like that when hotels and lodging houses were in such close proximity. However, such eccentricities seemed absolutely normal when they were discussing Vin Tanner. The tracker liked the open spaces and the trappings of rustic living. He supposed his own choices would seem just as bizarre to the tracker and decided that God loved variety in all its forms and he and the six men he rode with were more or less proof of that. They made a curious bunch but somehow it worked and he considered them the first real friends he had ever had in his life especially because of those differences.
He continued down the darkened boardwalk towards his room at the lodging house and found himself looking forward to some sleep. It had been a long day with he and Buck escorting a prisoner to Eagle Bend and getting back a little before dark. Hopefully, tomorrow would be a somewhat restful day because he could stand to spend the bulk of it in front of the jailhouse instead of traipsing across the country side dealing with outlaws and God only knew what mischief that seemed to take place in the Territory alone. He rounded a corner and almost collided with William Marsden who appeared to have been waiting for him.
"Marsden," Ezra sighed, realizing now that his earlier hope of things remaining civilized was just that; hope and one that was about to crushed underfoot by violence. "What are you doing here?"
"I think you cheated," William said without mincing words as he stepped out into the scant light illuminated from the full moon above. "I think you cheated to beat me."
"I do not cheat," Ezra returned sharply. He just about had his fill of this English upstart’s inability to take his losses like a man. "Now step out of my way. I have no wish to hurt you but I will if I have to impress my point any further.’
"Well that’s right proper of you mate," William replied almost chuckling. "Unfortunately, I do wish to hurt you."
Whether or not it was the trick of the light or something more that Ezra had no understanding of, William’s face suddenly changed. It changed into something Ezra could not even begin to imagine with yellow eyes and teeth that belonged to an animal and not a human. Ezra staggered backwards, so over taken with astonishment that for a moment he did not know what to do. "What are you?" He managed to ask.
"I’m death," William smiled and lunged at him.
Ezra reacted instinctively, reaching for his gun but his attacker was fast, so fast that the gambler never managed to unsheathe the Remington resting comfortably in his holster. He heard a growl just before he toppled to the ground, feeling an icy breath on his neck as William reached for his hand and pinned it to the ground helplessly. Ezra struggled hard but the man’s grip was powerful beyond belief. He could not even manage to keep his wrist from digging into the dirt once William had a hold of him. Ezra saw a glint of light on the creature’s jaw as William opened his mouth, preparing to bite when all reason left the gambler as he started to cry out. Perhaps Vin was close enough to hear him.
God he hoped so!
"They won’t get here in time to save you mate," William grinned, bearing his fangs as he lowered his head to Ezra’s neck.
His scream tore through the night at the same time William broke skin. Ezra felt his teeth sink into this throat and felt his blood draining. He could not understand what was happening or what William was but it would not matter because he was going to die....
***********
There was no time to think. There was only time to react.
Spike broke into a run, drawn by the scent of blood and fear that wafted through the darkened street of the town he knew only from his false memories as being Four Corners. They arrived only a short time ago, stepping through the centuries as if they had stepped through a door from one room to another. There was disorientation for a few minutes for both human and vampire although the latter recovered far swifter than his companions. However, when he heard the scream of terror, his senses came alive with surprising alertness and he was running before he even knew it. The spell had brought them back in time to the day that he had done the terrible deed that saw Buffy’s existence erased but not even Tara’s abilities could pinpoint the exact hour of their arrival. Now it seemed as if they had appeared just in time.
Spike had never ran so fast in his life. The only time he had remembered doing so with such urgency was when Dawn had been poised for sacrifice on that gantry that Glory had constructed to open the dimensions. His failure to save her had forced Buffy to sacrifice her own life and Spike had no intention of allowing that to happen again. Spike turned a corner and knew that prey and hunter was close and that the killing had already begun. The thought that he might be too late create a wail of anguish inside him as he ran faster, pushing himself to the absolute limits of his vampire abilities. When it seem like Spike would never reach them, he saw his younger self feeding on the gambler and felt his stomach lurch into his throat.
The man was still alive, Spike realised because he could see him struggling but not for long if he was drained any further. Spike raced forward and grabbed his past self with both hands and flung him backwards with enough force to send the vampire flying through the air and crashing into support beam of a nearby awning. There was a tremendous crash of it breaking and the awning giving way, bringing down wood and slats loudly over the predator. Spike turned to the his William’s victim and saw that the human was still alive, Spike could hear his heart pounding with fright in his ears.
"Spike!" Giles called out as he and Tara finally caught up with him, both were breathing hard, incapable of matching his devastating pace. Spike was not listening, he went instead to the man, Standish, lying on the ground clutching his bleeding throat.
"Hey," Spike went to him and caught him by the arm. "You still with us?"
Ezra Standish stared into the face of his savoir a little dazed but very much alive. "What...what....what...was that?" Ezra stammered at a loss for words for the possibly the first time in his life.
"That can wait," Spike retorted quickly, trying not to be affected by the intoxicating scent of fresh blood flowing from the man’s neck. "Watcher! He needs help!"
"Of course," Giles hurried forward to the fallen man to help him off the ground. Spike stepped back and let them proceed for he was not one to give aid and comfort to the injured which was just as well because he heard the heaving of wood and knew that his younger self was waking up.
"Is that him?" Tara asked as she came up along side of him. "I mean you?"
William stood up shakily, wood and dust falling off him as he stood up, still wearing his vampire visage. Spike stared at him for a moment, a little taken back by seeing himself for the first time in almost a hundred and twenty years. At this point, William would have been a vampire only a few years. Inwardly, Spike knew that nothing about himself had changed since the day he was turned but he could not help staring at the person he was. In place of his peroxide hair was honey blond hair, worn with a Hugh Grant kind of flop as Red would say. Spike could not believe he was ever that young.
"Hello there Junior," Spike replied catching William’s attention. "Sorry to interrupt your fun here but believe me when I say that you don’t want this one."
"Who the bloody hell are you?" William hissed in his direction.
"Take a good look," Spike pushed his chin out a little so that William could see him better. "I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen your reflection but I reckon you know who I am."
William’s game face evaporated when he did as he was told. His eyes furrowed in confusion as recognition seeped in. "Its a trick! You can’t be." He stammered in shock.
"I am and I’m telling you for your own good to let this one go," Spike ordered, gesturing to Ezra who was being helped to his feet by Giles.
"Spike, I don’t think he’s in the listening mood," Tara whispered in his ear.
"Witch," Spike turned away from his earlier version to the young woman. "This isn’t the time to give me a narrative. This is dangerous business here, go help Giles."
William took advantage of his distraction and lunged but before he could reach Spike, the vampire turned back to face him at the last minute, slamming his first into the younger versions’ face and sending him sprawling.
"Blimey," Spike shook his head as he saw William tumbling towards the dirt. "Was I actually that bloody dumb? No wonder Angelus thought I’d never last. You know, if you keep acting like a bleeding hot headed fool, you’re not going to make it to a hundred and I for one, will pretty pissed off at that." He said to William reproachfully.
"Maybe we ought to go," Tara tugged at his coat.
Spike frowned, studying William. He was dazed but not for long and Spike would prefer to avoid a second round with his younger self at this time.
"We should stake him," Tara advised looking at the disorientated vampire with fear.
Spike turned to her. "Hello, stake him – I disappear. I’d rather you not do that."
"Oh!" Tara exclaimed. "Sorry," she winced in embarrassment.
"That’s alright," Spike rolled his eyes and glanced at his younger counterpart. "Well see you around William."
William did not answer and for the moment anyway, that was a good sign as far as Spike was concerned because knowing how he was back in those days, the moment that William was in full control of his faculties, he would be in possession of a murderous rage. Considering that Spike could not stake him, it was wise to be elsewhere when that happened. Besides, they had more immediate problems to deal with. Buffy’s ancestor still lived which meant somewhere in the future, so did his Slayer and he was going to work very hard to see to it that thing remained that way.
***********
"What happened?" Chris Larabee demanded shortly after entering Nathan’s infirmary.
Vin had ridden out to his shack to tell him of what had happened after his departure from town and the fact that one of his men had been attacked did not put the gunslinger in the best frame of mind. Vin had told him very little on the journey back to town, admitting little more than the fact that Ezra had been attacked and that some strangers had come to his rescue. Chris knew there was more to it then that and it concerned him that Vin could not tell him the rest of it. He and Vin were able to confide in most things to each other, that he found it hard to tell Chris the truth now, deepened Chris’ anxiety regarding the situation that they now found himself in.
"He’s alright," Nathan said quickly, allaying Chris’ fears because he knew how worried Chris could get about any one of them being hurt. "He lost a little blood and he’ll be in here with me for a day or two but other than that, he’s okay."
"Right," Chris bristled, not liking the lack of answers even with that reassurance in mind. "He’s fine, now tell me what happened?"
"I’m afraid its going to be a little hard to believe," a tall man with steel rimmed glasses approached him wearing odd clothes.
"Who the hell are you?" Chris asked gruffly.
"My name is Rupert Giles," the stranger introduced himself. "This is my friend Tara and that there is Spike."
Chris nodded politely at the girl but his eyes had already caught sight of the young man standing rather indifferently against the wall, wearing a leather coat not unlike a duster and appearing almost bored by the conversation taking place around him. "Marsden?"
"Spike," he replied with the same voice. "But no, I’m not him."
"You look like him," Chris declared walking up to him. "You look a hell of a lot like him. Brothers?"
"Not bloody likely," Spike snorted and suddenly felt on guard around this human with the glare that could cut glass. Judging by the way he was dressed and his demeanour, Spike came to the conclusion that as humans went, this one could be pretty nasty if given a chance.
Spike warmed to him immediately.
"Chris, he saved Ezra’s life," Vin explained quickly because he could see Chris becoming exceedingly hostile unless he got some answers soon.
"Saved Ezra from whom?" Chris asked with exasperation
"Marsden," Nathan answered promptly. "At least, he thinks it was Marsden."
"He thinks?" Chris stared at the people in the room as if he was the only sane one present. "He isn’t sure?"
"The man took a big bite out of Ezra’s neck, if Spike here hadn’t come along, he would be dead by now." Vin added.
"Let me get this straight," Chris shook his head. The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle he was getting from Nathan and Vin added up to whole bunch of confusion. "Marsden bit Ezra’s throat and almost killed him? With his teeth?"
"Oh bloody hell," Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation and wondered why Larabee put up with this idiots who were incapable of giving him a straight answer. "Alright Tex," he spoke up. "This is the story. Your friend was attacked by a vampire – see Exhibit A." He pointed to himself and switched to game face as Buffy liked to call his vampire visage.
"Holy Christ!" Chris stumbled back and went for his gun as did Vin, who had not been aware of that aspect of Spike since there had been little time to learn anything after being told that Ezra had been attacked by some kind of creature. Nathan was similarly shocked but considering that he had just emerged from treating a patient, he was not armed and merely stepped back, giving Spike a wide berth.
"Subtle Spike," Giles gave the vampire a reproachful frown and tried to get the situation under control.
"What the hell are you?" Chris demanded, his gun drawn and not about to lower it any time soon.
"He’s a vampire," Giles explained quickly, very conscious of the guns the two men were holding. "Please, there is an explanation for this. He won’t harm you. He saved your friend’s life for now but the danger is not over."
If anything managed to penetrate Chris’ horror as he stared at the man, creature, whatever it was before him, it was the notion that any one of his men was in danger. "What do you mean?" He asked sharply.
"It will be hard to believe," Giles replied, "but you must understand that a great deal depends on your friend’s survival and we’ve come a long way to see that he remains safe."
"Try me," Chris glanced at Spike whose face had returned to normal now. "At this moment, I can believe a lot."
Giles hoped so and began to tell him.
***********
All was silent when explanations were made and the seconds seemed to tick by as if there was some invisible clock in the background making itself heard only in their minds. Giles did not realize he was holding his breath as he waited for Chris Larabee or one of his men to say something. The gunslinger was quiet, as if correlating all that he had heard and was trying to process it. Giles could not blame him for his disbelief. The world these men came from was hard and cold, with science and demonology so far away from their existence it was almost a different language. These were practical times, bound tight by convention and religious belief. It had to be difficult for any of the men present in this room to grasp that all that Giles had told them.
"Why Ezra?" Chris finally asked. His mind was reeling with Giles’ explanation, that Ezra had been marked by a vampire for death. The concept of there even being such creatures was hard enough to grasp let alone be confronted with the idea of moving through time like one rode from one town to another. These were thoughts larger than his comprehension and dealing with them was hard, even for someone like Chris.
"Revenge," Spike answered before Giles could. Somehow he had a feeling that Larabee understood revenge and sorrow quite well. "I pissed off a demon and he decided to get back at me by erasing the existence of someone I cared about a great deal."
"Someone?" Chris guessed from the look in the vampire’s eyes that he was referring to someone special. "I’m guessing its a she."
"Give the man a prize," Spike frowned. "Yes, a girl but not just any girl. She’s a Slayer."
"A slayer?" Vin asked puzzled. "What’s a slayer?"
"The Chosen One," Giles started to speak eliciting a groan from Spike.
"You had to ask didn’t you? He lives for this." Spike glanced at Giles.
Giles glared at Spike before continuing. "To each and every generation a slayer is born, she is the Chosen One. One girl in all the world with the strength and the power to fight the demons and vampires. When Spike’s demon removed her, he took from our time the Slayer who could have stopped our world from turning into a vampire haven. We have to get her back."
"A girl?" Vin was incredulous. "The Chosen One is a girl? You expect a girl to fight these things? Alone?"
"Hey," Tara began to frown. "I’m sensing a little chauvinism here."
Chris dismissed both Vin and Tara at the same time, "what’s this got to do with Ezra?"
"The bastard wanted to make me suffer," Spike said bitterly. "He wanted me to know that I was the one who made her come undone. Somehow he put me here, a hundred years before she was even born when I didn’t know anything about her and made me kill your friend." Spike’s words were filled with emotion and he had to stop a minute to compose himself and look away from the gazes of those present.
The rest unfolded easily for Chris once Spike had made that admission. Yes, he did know a great deal about revenge and about losing a woman that meant everything. It was only a few months ago that he had found out that Sarah and Adam had not been the victims of a fire but rather one that was deliberately set by their murders. He could see the anguish in this vampire’s eyes and knew how it felt with perfect empathy. "He wanted to make you responsible for her death, whatever," Chris faced him. "Wanted you to remember that her being gone was your fault and no one else’s."
"Yeah," Spike swallowed thickly. "That’s about the size of it."
"So that means...." Vin started to understand as well. "She’s related to Ezra?"
"Her mother’s name was Standish," Giles explained softly. "We believe she is a direct descendant of your friend."
"But you stopped Ezra from being killed," Nathan pointed out. "Doesn’t that mean she’s okay now?"
"No," Chris answered before Giles could. "Those vampires are still here. They haven’t gone and if they’re still here, there’s still a chance they may come after Ezra and kill him."
"So what do we do?" Vin asked.
Chris did not know how to respond and faced Giles and Spike, hoping they would have an answer. "You know these things better than we do."
"I’m not sure," Giles admitted. "We didn’t think beyond getting here."
"We better come up with something fast," Spike announced. "Because my younger self isn’t alone He’s got friends and they’re a damn sight more dangerous than he is right now. Once they’ve heard the goings on tonight, they’ll be coming."
***********
"You idiot!" William heard those angry words before he was slammed into the wall of the room he and Drusilla shared.
"Get your hands off me!" William snarled and tried to break free. It only resulted in being thrown back with even more force.
"I told you that we would not hunt here!" Angelus hissed. "I have games to play that need us to be discreet! If you had to feed you should have gone out of town like we did!"
"Don’t be angry with my boy, daddy." Drusilla drifted to William’s side. "He couldn’t help it. There were voices telling him things. Flies buzzing around his head."
"What?" Both Angelus and William turned to her at the same time with confusion.
"What are you talking about Dru?" William asked gently. "There was nothing wrong with me."
"It was only for a little bit, pet." Dru answered as she drifted to the divan where a row of porcelain dolls had been placed in a neat row. "Just a little tickle to make you dance."
"There’s something going on here Angelus," William turned back to his grandsire. "I saw a vampire and he looked like me! He was me!"
"We’ll deal with that later," Angelus said angrily, starting to see there were mitigating circumstances involved in this instance that bore investigation. He decided that his desire to put an end to Drusilla’s troublesome lover could wait for the moment. Right now, they had bigger troubles to deal with. "For the moment, we need to leave before they come hunting for us. This town isn’t that big, it won’t take them long to find us so we need to get moving."
"I won’t go!" William said defiantly. "Not until I know what’s going on!"
"Well that makes two of us William," Angelus glared at him. "But first things first, we’ll find a safe place and then get to the bottom of things."
"Fine," William retorted, satisfied with that. "And don’t call me William, I’m Spike!"
Angelus shook his head in resignation. "Whatever. Just be ready to leave."
If there was thing Chris hated more than one-eyed Marshals gunning for his blood, land barons who had an elevated sense of importance and psychotic Confederate Colonels, it was weird s things. Weird things were not supposed to happen to him. Chris Larabee was a man accustomed to dealing with most situations. There had not been any crisis that had arisen yet that he was not in some way equipped to deal with. Most of the time, he attacked the problem the best way he knew how, directly and with the aid of his six companions. On that basis, they had been able to protect the small town of Four Corners from quite a lot. Four Corners these days was a thriving frontier community, no different from any struggling to survive in the Territory. It was a far cry from the utter chaos and lawlessness Chris had ridden into when he first arrived. Thanks to his six friends, all exiles like himself, they had found a home in this town and a bond of friendship none had ever known elsewhere and what bound them together was Four Corners. For that precious friendship, each man had taken the duty of its protection to heart.
However, for the first time since being appointed one of Four Corners’ peacekeepers, Chris had no idea what to do.
For starters, he had enough trouble believing what the strangers from the future had told him even if he had seen one of them change from human to what was it they called it again? A vampire? What the hell was a vampire? He heard the Englishman explain it to him (the one who wasn’t a vampire that is) as he now attempted to explain the situation to the rest of his men and it still seemed so unbelievable. Yet, Chris knew what he had seen and one minute the younger man, the one called Spike had appeared to him as a human and the next thing Chris knew, he was staring into a face that shattered all the walls of his very comforting and secure world. Suddenly, Chris came face to face with the supernatural unknown that he had discarded as superstitious nonsense. He had never believed in ghosts and goblins, in demons or monsters. Hell, he had a hard time believing that there was even a God after Sarah and Adam were taken from him.
Now, he was being told that a soul could be taken by one of these monstrous creatures and was left with the sobering realization that he actually had one to lose. Everything that he thought was myth had basis in fact and that meant if there was a Hell, from which such creatures were spawned, then there had to be a heaven. Knowing that infused him with some measure of comfort and it was ironic that it would be because of Sarah and Adam. Even now, his dead family was the one to make the revelations he had experienced this night have some perspective. If there was a heaven then Sarah and Adam were there, waiting for him and it was surprising how good it felt to know for certain that when his life was over, he would be with them again.
"You’re crazy," Buck Wilmington’s voice declared and returned Chris’ attention to the discussion being carried out.
Following Spike’s little display; Chris had thought it best to get the rest of the seven together in order to deal with this situation that had suddenly come upon them. Also present was Ezra who was a little better now that he had some time to rest and recover from his ordeal. The gambler seemed a little uneasy around Spike but that was understandable, considering how close he had come to dying at the hands of someone who looked almost identical to the creature that had tried to take his life. The vampire did not take much offense and had a demeanor that was somewhat odd in comparison to the tales being told by the man called Giles about these creatures. Everything about Spike indicated that he was a vampire, hell Chris had seen it with his own eyes but the younger man’s (?) devotion to the woman he had come to save clearly did not make him like the others.
"I can assure," Ezra said weakly "He is not. These creatures exist. Marsden almost ripped out my throat."
"Don’t make me show you Exhibit A again," Spike retorted from his corner of the room, not looking at Buck.
The vampire was staring out the window, trying to equate his memories of the past with this place. The smells were all the same, dried horse manure, the lack of decent plumbing and the sweat that came of too many people crammed together in one place where air conditioning and ventilation was non-existent. Its potency felt terribly alive for the vampire and he remembered that though the world of his youth had been a little more polished, it was no different then this place.
"Yeah," Vin shuddered, still a little shaken by that. "You don’t want to see that."
"Besides," Josiah Sanchez added. "When I was doing missionary work, the Mexicans had a legend about something called Civateteo."
"Oh yes," Giles immediately chimed in on that note, familiar with the legend being a watcher. "They were vampire-witches who held sabbaticals at cross roads. They were believed to attack young children and sometimes even mated with human men, producing vampire children. They are believed to be linked to the god Tezeatlipoca."
"Well that’s bullocks," Spike retorted. "Vampires can’t reproduce. Besides, it takes all the fun out of gratuitous sex," he grinned.
"I’m with him on that," Buck sent Spike a cocky grin, earning groans of resignation from everyone else.
"Well legends can be distorted but some basis in fact remains," Giles responded.
"The people who told me about Civateteo were pretty convinced they existed and considering what we now know, its no wonder." Josiah concluded. "Although I suppose its good to know that there is a heaven and a hell. Does wonders for your faith."
"I can’t believe that gorgeous filly, Miss Darla is one of them?" Buck stared at the others in the room with astonishment. For the past week, he had been lusting after the woman but had not made any move towards her because her rather formidable looking companion did not appear as if he would have appreciated Buck’s attention.
Spike snorted. "She would have had you for a snack mate."
"Spike," Giles gave him a reproachful look, wishing the vampire would not be quite so blunt with these men. It was a difficult thing to accept what they were being told. It was hard enough to believe in vampires let alone understand how a demon could cause so much destruction in the future by preventing one girl from being born with one of their deaths.
"Look Watcher," Spike glared back at him impatiently. "Angelus is out there and by now, my younger self has probably told him he saw me. Now I can’t take all four of them on my own and I’m sure as hell not expecting these blokes to do the same."
"Why not?" JD demanded. "We can handle anything that comes along."
"Junior," Spike glared at the young boy that reminded so much of Xander Harris that the need to bite him was really overwhelming. "I can’t them take on alone and I’m pretty nasty sort. They’ll eat you alive. Literally."
"Hey back off," Buck stepped in between Spike and JD. "We’ve handled worse than four vampires."
"We have?" Nathan stared at the big man. "When?"
"Look the fact of the matter is, they are here and we have to deal with them." Giles broke into the conversation before things became more heated. "Now, Angelus, Darla, Drusilla and your earlier self are formidable but not indestructible. You men seemed to be able to handle yourselves, there is no reason why we cannot deal with this situation."
"Do they know what you do?" Chris spoke for the first time since Giles had began explaining to the others, directing his question at Spike alone.
"What do you mean?" Spike looked at the grim man in the black duster.
"Do they know that by killing Ezra, they kill the girl?" Chris asked.
"No," Spike replied. "But that won’t stop them for coming. The ‘other Spike’ got a good look at me and if Angelus loves nothing else, he loves a mystery. He’ll want to know what’s going on."
"What about Ezra?" Vin inquired. "Are they likely to come after him?"
"Only to find out how to get to me." Spike returned. "Best place for him right now, is somewhere else."
"I will not run." Ezra retorted. "I have no intention of hiding from this creature. I was momentarily taken back when I saw Marsden but I shall be able to handle myself."
"Shut up Ezra," Chris growled. "If the man says the best place for you to be right now is somewhere else, then that’s where you’re gonna be."
"I protest...." Ezra started to speak but Chris silenced him with a patented Larabee glare.
Spike rose a brow and grinned at Chris, "I like your style mate. Real brassy."
Chris took it as a compliment before he regarded Giles and the others once more. "Is there only four of them we got to deal with?"
Giles, Spike and Tara exchanged glances and it was something that did not escape Chris or any of the seven’s notice.
"There is only four right?" Chris repeated himself, suddenly struck by the feeling that he was about to be given some rather bad news.
"It depends," Giles swallowed thickly, choosing that moment to clean his glasses.
"On what?" The gunslinger demanded.
"They’ve been here for a week or more," Spike interjected. "Chances are they would have gotten hungry in that time. From what you’ve been telling us, they haven’t done any feeding in town so that means they’ve been doing it elsewhere. They may have sired help."
"How much help?" Vin asked fearfully, not liking the notion that they would have to deal with more than four of these creatures.
"As many as they want," Spike retorted. "When I was the Big Bad, I used to do two or three a night. It’s not just the feeding, it’s the hunt."
"Hell...." Chris started to groan.
"Their numbers could increase exponentially." Giles admitted. "They may already have minions out there and if Angelus senses a great threat, he may use them against us."
"So what do we do?" Vin looked at Chris.
Chris drew a deep breath and considered their options. He could tell that the situation was just as new to the man called Giles even if the existence of vampires was not. Spike’s only interest appeared to be keeping the woman he loved alive, which fortunately meant the continued survival of Ezra while the others were lost between confusion at any of this being real or fear at whether or not they could survive fighting such creatures. However, a course of action had to be taken immediately because Spike was right, they did not have much time. If everything he knew about this Angelus was any indication of how he would react, the Master Vampire would soon be coming after Ezra.
"Ezra, you’re leaving town." Chris looked at him. "You’ll hole up at the shack for a couple of days, until we sort this mess out."
"Mr. Larabee," Ezra stiffened. "How safe is it going to be for me to be stranded in the middle of nowhere when these creatures come for me?"
"A lot safer than you think," Spike remarked, agreeing with Chris on this point "We can’t go where we haven’t been invited."
"You’re kidding," Vin looked at him. "You mean if no one asks you through the door, you can’t come in?"
"Yes," Giles explained. "A vampire cannot come into a home unless he’s been invited by its owner."
"That is peculiar," Josiah mused, "but useful."
"Tell me about it, causes no end of grief. Almost got the prey and she runs home, it’s bleeding frustrating at times." Spike grumbled.
"So if we leave Ezra at the shack alone, they can’t get him." JD shuddered instead of lingering on thoughts about what assurance they had that the Spike in the room with them would not switch sides. "We could tell people not to invite anyone in they don’t know then these vampires can’t hurt anyone else."
"That won’t stop them from feeding whenever anyone leaves their home," Tara replied. "They could burn down a place if they can’t get in. The result is just the same."
"That instills me with a great deal of confidence," Ezra returned sarcastically. "I cannot abide this! They must be mistaken, I am not even married! In fact, I have no intention of being married for quite some time. Perhaps the lineage is wrong."
"The lineage isn’t wrong mate," Spike insisted. "That damn demon made it so that you were the one bit. Before all this happened, I’d never even heard of Four Corners, none of us did. Angelus, Darla, me and Dru were in Europe at this time. The fact that we’re here and you seemed to be the only one I seem to remember biting makes it the truth. You’re the Slayer’s grandsire."
"I am not the material from whom Slayers are made," Ezra protested further.
"Its not a genetic line," Giles quickly explained. "Slayers are not hereditary. They are merely chosen."
"Why not?" Chris asked, somewhat curious on this whole subject of the slayer.
"They don’t live long enough to have children." Giles said quietly. "Most of them don’t live very long after they are called."
"Hell of a life for a girl," Josiah remarked, unable to imagine a young teenager expected to take on such a responsibility. What must it be like to wake up one day and find that your destiny was to kill creatures that defied all that was holy? Josiah could not even begin to imagine it.
"Buffy managed alright," Spike said, allowing his emotions to filter into his voice despite his best efforts to conceal. It. "Still would have if I hadn’t helped her kill that bastard Chronozon."
"You didn’t know it was going to happen," Tara responded sympathetically.
Spike was having none of that. "I should have stayed out of it. She would have handled him somehow and he wouldn’t have felt it necessary to get his revenge on me by taking it out on her."
"Things happen," Vin added. "Most of time, you don’t know its gonna until you’re half done doing it. Ain’t no one’s fault when its revenge."
Spike went silent, uncertain how to take the efforts to make him feel better but felt appreciative of the attempt nonetheless.
"Okay first things first," Chris stated, breaking the tender moment because it appeared the vampire was at a loss to respond and they needed some form of plan to proceed. "Vin, I want you and Buck to take Ezra out to the shack at first light."
"No way," Spike shook his head. "I’m going where he is."
"Look," Chris bristled, not used to having his orders and not about to tolerate it in any shape or form even the protest came from a vampire. "You brought this mess to town and you’re gonna help us deal with it. You said that they can’t come in if you don’t invite him so if we stash Ezra at the shack he should be safe. Besides, you said this Angelus is going to want to know why Ezra’s so important so he’ll want to take Ezra alive, meaning no house burning."
"Okay," Spike had to concede that the grim bastard’s point of view was valid even though he did not like the idea very much. "I’ll stick around town."
"I can go with him," Tara spoke up.
"That’s nice of you little lady," Buck said gently, never one to put a lady in danger. "But its probably safer if you stay in town."
"I can take care of myself," Tara pouted in a way that Buck found utterly endearing. "I got us here, didn’t I?"
"Really," Giles added in her defense. "Tara is very capable of assisting your companions with Mr. Standish. Besides, if anything does happen, you need someone with you who knows how to deal with vampires."
"He’s got a point," Chris replied, having dealt with enough females in his time to know never to underestimate them. He did not look at Tara the way Buck did. To the ladies man, she was just a girl, needing protection. However, Tara must be something if she was able to count time travel as one of her abilities. "Vin, you and Buck will take Tara with you and Buck, keep your mind on the job?"
"Hey!" Buck cried out in mock hurt. "Why is it every time I try to be nice to a lady, you boys think I’m on the prowl?"
"Because you almost always are?" Vin remarked with a smirk.
"Like I said," Chris repeated himself an octave higher in order to catch their attention again. "On the job or Tara has my permission to turn you into a bullfrog or something."
Tara’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment while Spike merely sniggered as if there was some great joke about Buck’s interest in the young woman. Whatever it was, the vampire was not about to reveal it to the others just yet and turned away before he was forced to explain.
"What about the rest of us?" Nathan inquired ignoring Buck’s protestations of innocence.
Chris glanced at Giles. "It would be a good idea if we could find them before they came after us. Any ideas on that?"
Giles considered what he had been told about the quartet’s patterns since arriving in Four Corners. No doubt their actions were carried out so as to ensure no one knew what they were, so that they could feed without the difficulty that came with an entire town knowing there were vampire loose in the night. Now that the secret was out, Giles was convinced that Angelus immediate concern would be to move his ‘family’ out of town before any one came hunting for them. It would make things a great deal simpler if the family chose to move on but Giles knew from the records about Angelus, which he had studied in detail after Angel had come to Sunnydale, was fascinated by the bizarre. The appearance of another Spike would definitely fall into that category. He would pursue the matter until he unraveled the mystery and killed everyone in the process.
"Chances are, they would have left town the minute William," he saw Spike opening his mouth to say something and quickly answered the question the vampire was going to ask regarding the name Giles had called his previous self. "Let’s call him William for the sake of avoiding confusion, shall we?"
"Whatever," Spike scowled and turned back to his observation beyond the window.
"William would have no doubt reported what happened to Angelus and it’s my guess they’ll leave town to find a hiding place before dawn." Giles continued. "Do we know how far they can get before sunrise?"
"Quite a ways," Chris retorted, not liking this at all. "There’s at least three major towns around here, not to mention a lot of homesteads scattered around the area. If they wanted to hide, they could choose any one of those."
"We’ll have to search them all," Giles announced.
"That’s a lot of ground to cover," Vin pointed out. "Can we narrow it down any more than that?"
"Not really," Giles shook his head in response. "I’m afraid any where with sufficient space for a basement could be made into a nest."
"We’re not bloody cockroaches," Spike declared hotly. "We call it a lair."
"If Marsden was you in this time, can’t you remember where you’ve been?" JD asked after a moment. The young man’s words escaped him with some measure of hesitation as if he was trying to word his sentence in a manner that could be understood even if the concept was beyond him a little.
"Unfortunately not," Ezra answered before Spike could. "Spike’s recollections of this time would be consistent if Marsden had actually killed me. Since he managed to avert the outcome, the past he remembers is no longer viable because the time line has diverged somewhat."
"Couldn’t have said better myself," Spike commented. "I guess she does get a little bit of the smarts from you other than just height."
"You mean she’s real little too?" Buck teased Ezra who gave him a dark look.
"Well she is kind of small," Spike remarked, always enjoying provoking others. "Got his hair and his colored eyes though."
"She’s sounds like someone I wouldn’t mind meeting," JD joked.
"I do not suppose you have any idea who I am supposed to sire her with?" Ezra inquired, still unable to deal with the fact that one of his descendants was going to be a ‘vampire’ slayer. It certainly did not fit in with the solitary lifestyle he thought he would lead.
"Not really," Giles shrugged. "The records on hand did not have any information about you beyond the fact that you died. It was mere assumption that allowed us to come to the conclusion that you were indeed Buffy’s ancestor."
"Wonderful," Ezra sighed, seeing that there was no way he could think his way out of this situation. "I just hope she is rich."
***********
A scream tore through the night as the last member of the Landers family met their demise in a single moment of blood and tearing. Her final cry faded away in an instant and there was only silence in the wake of abrupt demise. It had all been very quick; from the moment her husband had seen the strangers carriage approaching the house to the instant when the tall, dark man with flowing dark hand beckoned her with a mesmerizing stare before he tore out her throat. She died with the memory of the screams uttered by her frightened children forever branded onto the remaining seconds of her life. There was another moment of clarity, when she felt teeth digging into her skin and that was all she knew.
Angelus dropped the body of Margaret Landers onto the floor of her pristine kitchen after he had drained her, feeling somewhat renewed after their hasty departure from Four Corners. He wiped the smattering of blood from his lips and studied his new surroundings with passing interest. The home was rustic but supplied with the conveniences. Darla would not be too impressed with their new accommodations but he knew that she would tolerate it for him. He made a mental note to take her to San Francisco once their business in the Territory was concluded. It would be an adequate salve for the indignities she would have to endure while he tried to unravel what had happened with Spike tonight.
Just thinking about his minion once removed from Drusilla filled the vampire with annoyance. They had things so perfect in Four Corners, using it as a base while they fed off the surrounding towns. He had so many plans for the lovely young widow who ran the local newspaper and now they would have to take second place in light of the current situation. Spike had been a thorn in his side ever since Drusilla had sired him. Angelus had to marvel at the fountain of rage that had been repressed within the human Spike had been before his death. Upon turning, all that fury burst forth into a violent mix of aggression that must have surely made the demon inside of him delighted with glee. For someone who appeared to have no spine before turning into the creature he was, Spike as a vampire had fear of nothing. He did not fear Angelus, merely respected him and there was no situation in which he would not run head long into. While that could be an advantage at times, at other times, like this one for instance, it could be damned inconvenient.
Angelus left the kitchen and stormed into the main parlor of the house where Darla had finished with the senior member of the Landers household. Paul Landers was on the floor, the blood on his neck and exposed flesh was an indication of his death. Angelus spotted a slash of blood across Darla’s breast and noted the blood on the man’s lips. He did not appear particularly impressive but then the purpose of the exercise was not to create a minion that would last for any length of time, just for their immediate needs. He would rise in a day or two so it was best to keep him out of the light for the time being.
"I chose not to use the woman," Angelus announced to Darla upon his approach. "I didn’t think she had what it takes."
"We’re going to need more than just one minion then," Darla raised her eyes towards him from her latest conquest. "Drusilla and William are finished with the children." Her face shifted to its human visage once more and she wiped the blood from her lips as she came towards him.
"We’ll deal with that in a day or two," Angelus responded pulling up a chair. "Right now, I’m more interested in why we had to run."
"He’s impetuous," Darla smiled, knowing that his anger at William had yet to abate. She circled him and began massaging his shoulders. Angelus released a deep sigh, leaning into her fingers as she kneaded the knots out of his muscle.
"He’s hot headed and dangerous," Angelus grumbled as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her touch on his skin, even through shirt.
"No more than you were," Darla lowered her lips to his ear and whispered. "He’s young and he’s finding his way. Remember how you were?"
Angelus did remember. Darla had brought him to meet the Master and being the fool he was, he had allowed his mouth to run away with him again, provoking the wrath of the King Vampire who would have surely killed him if it was not for Darla’s interference. She had left the Master for him and Angelus adored her for that. He supposed that William who was less than a handful of years old would grow some sense with experience. For Drusilla’s sake, he hoped this was the truth since the girl was quite taken with her William. And if he did get himself killed, well then the situation would take care of itself all on its own.
"I suppose you are right as always," Angelus raised his eyes to Darla and their lips met in an icy kiss that did nothing to diminish their passion for one another. After a moment, Angelus pulled away, deciding it was time they discussed in depth what had happened to force their abrupt departure from Four Corners.
"The situation in Four Corners still needs to be addressed." He stated firmly.
"We could just move on," she suggested.
"Ah we could darling," Angelus smiled. "But I would like to know what exactly it was that William ran into. He doesn’t run easily and I have never seen him go after a human and fail to kill."
"He said that he saw another vampire, one that looked like him." Darla remarked.
"Yes," Angelus took that into consideration. "William!" He called out, sitting up straight in the chair, waiting for the younger vampire like he was a reproachful father. The thought of his being authoritarian to William brought the unpleasant memory of his own father back to him and even though the man seventy years dead in the past, his power over Angelus was no less than it had been when Angelus had been his son Liam. The notion that he was acting just like his hypocritical father did not please him much and Angelus reminded himself of what Darla had said, that in his early years as a vampire, he was almost as foolish and hot headed as William.
William emerged from the adjoining room where the Landers children had met their grisly faith with Drusilla following closely behind as always. The younger vampire swaggered in as usual, arrogance exuding from each step that he took. A premonition there and then told Angelus that experience would not temper that warring spirit, it would only intensify it, make it more lethal. In that instant as he saw Spike approach, Angelus was struck with the realization that no one could really control William because he loved too much what he was and he relished the power of his demon more than he missed the human he had been. In truth, they all felt some way the yearnings of their human existence; the ability to walk in the sunlight, to feel the warmth of living on their skin and a sense of completion knowing that they were finite.
William did not feel the regret. Whatever he had been in life must have been so terrible that he absolutely relished the demon that had taken him and in allowing it free reign with complete willingness, he had managed to emerge without any fear of anything, not even the Slayers. He had been actively pestering the family to seek out the Slayer but Angelus had no taste for travelling to Rhodesia. It was hardly civilized and even he had his limits. Besides, inwardly, he was not entirely sure he wanted to face the infamous Slayers because there was always a chance that she might hurt the family and Angelus was not about to risk that for anything.
"My name is Spike," William retorted as he came to a pause in front of Angelus.
"Fine then," Angelus stiffened in annoyance. "Spike it is. Now do you care to tell me why I had take my ladies from their comforts, running away like vermin in the night?"
"I told you," William growled. "There was a vampire there and he looked like me."
"An imposter?" Darla asked curiously.
"I don’t think so," William showed his uncertainty for the first time. "He told me to take a good look at him and I did but he didn’t look like an imposter. He was me." His voice drifted away, his confusion plain to see. "I don’t understand it."
"Tell me everything he said," Angelus ordered, finding himself somewhat intrigued by William’s tale.
William told Angelus everything about the evening’s encounter, from his game of poker with the gambler Ezra Standish, to his sudden desire to take the man’s life culminating with the encounter wit his double. Angelus listened carefully for a few minutes, saying nothing as William stated his case and unlike the usual sneer the younger vampire usually wore when describing his exploits, on this occasion there was only anxiety and hesitation. William was telling the truth, Angelus was certain of it, despite how insane it sounded. However, insanity was in the eye of the beholder when one lived in a world where one was a vampire and demons ran the earth freely. In comparison, a double was not that abnormal.
"The girl who was with him," William added. "She called him Spike."
"And he kept saying that you did not want to harm Standish for your own good?" Darla asked.
"Yeah, he kept bloody well saying that I’d regret it." William returned confused. "I know its crazy but he was me. I’m sure of it."
"I don’t doubt you lad," Angelus returned. "It’s damn strange though. I’d like to know what so important about one human that a vampire, even one that might be you would go to all the trouble of protecting."
"It is Spike daddy," Drusilla responded, having been quite all this time. "But not our Spike. I can feel him in my head. It’s like an echo in two."
"What does that mean?" Darla declared quizzically. She did not put as much faith as Angelus did in Drusilla’s seeing abilities.
"Tell me darling," Angelus rose to his feet and went to Drusilla. He slid his arm around her neck and immediately drew a dark look from William who was apart from being unreasonably aggressive was also insanely jealous when it came to his black princess.
Drusilla smiled as Angelus lowered his lips to her ear and whispered softly. "Tell me what you see."
"Spike wasn’t alone in his head, there was something else there," Drusilla responded, transfixed by something she could not see. The others were accustomed to the visions that Drusilla was prone to having and while Darla thought them to be ambiguous as times, Angelus and William relied upon them on many occasions.
"You keep saying that luv," William took her arm and gently pulled her to him, not wishing her to remain in Angelus’ grasp. "There wasn’t."
"Only for a little bit Spike," she smiled adoringly at him as her hand caressed the side of his face with love. "It buzzed inside your head for a while, telling you to kill that man."
"Well Spike?" Angelus looked at him hard. "Are you sure that you wanted to kill that man? I haven’t known you to kill anyone you gamble with. You always told me that a game is lost fair and square."
"Yes but....." William’s voice trailed off.
"Did he cheat?" Darla asked him pointedly.
William looked at her for a minute, about to say yes when he really considered the question. Had Standish cheated? William did not think he did. He was an excellent player but then the man was a professional gambler. He had been angry to lose but only because he had been bested by a human. He had been beaten before at the gaming tables but there was never a desire in him to go out and kill someone for that. As a vampire, he did not have many scruples but he did recognize a good fight when he saw it and was reluctant to the a poor loser by taking it out on someone just because they defeated him fair and square.
"No," William shook his head finally. "I don’t think he did. I just wanted to kill him."
"It wanted you to kill him Spike," Drusilla corrected him. "It wants him dead."
"I’d like to know what it is." Darla retorted impatiently, not liking the idea that a dark force was capable of influencing their thoughts and make them bend to its will.
"It’s from a very bad place daddy," Drusilla looked over her shoulder at Angelus. "I can hear the screaming behind it but its not here, it just speaks loudly in Spike’s head and it hates him so much."
"Hates me?" William’s eyes widened. "Why because I’m a vampire?"
"No," she shook her head. "Just you. He hates you, wants to make you suffer."
"I don’t see how killing this Standish fellow is going to do that. He plays good cards but that’s about all. Hardly enough for me to give a wrack about."
"I want to know what’s so special about this gambler that dark forces are hell bent on you killing him." Angelus stated.
"Maybe we should find out." Darla met his gaze.
"Aye," Angelus nodded slowly. "I think we will at that."
***********
It was morning before Nathan was remotely agreeable to allowing Ezra make the journey to Chris’s shack, much to the gunslinger’s chagrin. Refusing Spike’s offer to bite Nathan, Chris decided that it was probably best to let the healer have his way in this matter since Nathan could be a holy terror when it came to endangering anyone of his friends’ life because of indifference to their wounds. Spike on the other hand remained within the confines of the jailhouse, since the back cells allowed little light to reach them and offered him some measure of protection from the daylight.
It did not impress the vampire very much to remain confined but supposed that this was no different from being trapped in his crypt all day waiting for Buffy to call. He still did not like the idea of letting Ezra Standish out of his sight but supposed he had little choice in the matter. Chris Larabee, the leader of the seven men was right in the fact that he was needed to deal with Angelus and the others that would inevitably come with him. As it was, Spike had no idea how the remaining lawmen were going to manage defending themselves against four of the most vicious vampires he knew, himself most of all.
He expected a few of them would not survive the night.
Spike tried to rest on the lumpy bunk within the jail cell and wondered if half the torture of being a criminal was being forced to sleep on beds like this. After some tossing and turning he managed to get a few hours sleep, not being able to do so since walking up to the nightmarish world where the Master ruled and everything that had transpired since coming to this point. His sleep was less then peaceful for he was plagued with images of Buffy on that gantry except this time, it was not she that leapt off its edge, it was he that pushed her. He watched the betrayal in her eyes, the trust he had almost died to earn withering before him as gravity did its work, pulling her into the darkness. He clawed air, trying to reach her but it was too late, the black swallowed her up and he had lost her forever.
"BUFFY NO!" Spike cried out and sat upright.
For a minute he could do nothing but sit there, panting as his anxiety started to diminish at the realization that he was back in the waking world. If he was still alive, he would be covered with sweat but as it was, he was jittery all over and the images of her eyes lingered with him longer than they should have. He was so wrapped up in his experience that he did not realize that he was entirely alone.
"You okay?" He asked the low rumbling voice of the man they called Josiah inquire.
Spike’s gaze shifted quickly to the older man’s face and he immediately felt foolish for exposing his vulnerabilities to anyone. "I’m fine," Spike muttered a little sitting up.
"Brought you something to eat," Josiah remarked as he tried not to look at the mug of blood that they had acquired from the butcher shop a little while ago.
"I’m not the bacon and eggs type," Spike pointed out and was mildly surprised when Josiah handed him the cup. "Thanks."
"Raised an eyebrow or two getting that," Josiah replied as he sat down on the bunk across Spike’s. "Had to tell Carlyle the butcher that we needed it to bait a coyote that was roaming the hills."
"You’d be surprised what people would believe," Spike remarked as he started to drink. The blood was fresh and judging by the texture, from a cow.
"So what’s the future like?" Josiah asked, appearing unconcerned at Spike’s dietary requirements. There were rituals were the drinking of blood was customary and more than a few that Josiah had witnessed during his travels.
"Decadent," Spike retorted shortly. "Loud, noisy, better plumbing, less restrictive. It has its moments and it can be a right bastard too."
"I think every generation says that," Josiah added with a smile. "You know, seeing you has reinforced my faith in God."
Spike’s brow shot up in puzzlement. "How?" He asked lowering the steel cup.
"You being a demon, meaning there is a hell and if there is a hell by definition there must be a heaven and all that goes with it." Josiah explained.
"I suppose," Spike nodded. "But us demons aren’t all evil and destruction you know. There are some who just are what they are and can’t help it. Most of the time, they remain hidden, going about their business, not wanting to hurt anyone or anything."
"I suppose that is further proof that we are all God’s creatures." Josiah pointed out.
"I wouldn’t go that far mate," Spike smiled a little, unable to deny that the man’s understanding of things was extremely enlightened for his era. "I don’t know what it is we have inside us, whether demons have a soul or not but we feel and we react to how we feel."
"Like you and this slayer." Josiah stated.
"Yeah," Spike nodded slowly, "like me and the slayer."
"You’re very much in love with her." The preacher stated.
"Much to my dismay, " he muttered. He did not want to talk to the preacher about Buffy but somehow the words were coming from him without hesitation. Perhaps it was just the preacher’s willingness to listen that made him speak. "Don’t want to be you know? I mean she’s tough to love. Can’t blame her I suppose. What she does takes a lot out of her. She was called when she was sixteen and she’s had to grow up fast, faster than most people should ever have to."
"We’ll find someway out of this," Josiah said sympathetically.
"I like to know how," Spike grumbled. "This isn’t going to be easy. We can’t kill them. They effect the future considerably. Kill them and we change how it goes. Its all cause and effect mate and we can’t alter any of it. Somehow, we have to drive them out of town without killing them."
"Well find a way," Josiah repeated himself, his faith telling him that they will find some way to handle the situation, no matter how bleak it was.
"Do all you preachers live through rose colored glasses?" The vampire asked, a little smile on his lips.
‘Most of the time," Josiah chuckled. "The rest of it we just have unswerving faith in the people around us."
"That sounds bloody awful." Spike commented with open distaste.
"You have no idea," the older man chuckled.
***********
"There it is," Ezra grumbled openly when they approached the shack on Chris Larabee’s little parcel of land in the distance. "My prison until this nightmare is over. I think I shall be sick now."
The small shack did not appear to be terribly lavish as far as Tara was concerned, but then she came from a world that was dilapidated into wreck and ruin ever since the Master had risen and so any place safe was usually acceptable to her. Besides, it overlooked a nice stretch of land with sun burnt grass and trees framing it in places. The air was heavy with pollen and dry soil, smells she equated with the great outdoors and a serenity that seemed a world away from what she had known. The sun was high in the sky and it appeared as if it was going to be something of a scorcher.
For the sake of blending into their new environment, she had worn a garment of the period and wondered how women of this time did not go insane form heatstroke at having to wear such cumbersome clothes. She had drawn the line at the ridiculous undergarments and was grateful for that decision. All that linen and lace under an already thick dress would have stretched even her usually unassuming temperament to something quite vicious. Tara smiled, thinking it was a good idea that Cordelia had remained with Angel, she would have surely balked at the suggestion of dressing up in Old West clothing.
"You ride pretty well ma’am." Vin Tanner, the handsome tracker with the blue eyes remarked. "You ride back where you come from?"
"A little," Tara responded. "My dad bought me a pony when I was a little girl." Of course this was in the days before he was convinced that her demon seed would emerge and destroy them all. Later on she learnt from Giles and Angel that she was perfectly normal and the myth of the females in the family possessing a demon gene was just a ploy used by the chauvinistic males of the same to control their women.
Vin Tanner did not talk much, Tara noticed, where else Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish did not seem to stop. However, there was no doubt in her mind that while Vin was younger and quieter than his older companions were, they clearly followed his lead. Tara wondered what the Slayer was like and remembered how quiet Kendra had been. Was Spike’s much loved Slayer the same way when coming from such a verbose ancestor? She realized she would never know for certain. If they were successful in being able to protect Buffy’s existence then the reality she knew would never exist. Spike said that it was for their own good, that the world that was meant to be was so much better for them all. While it was not in her nature to trust a vampire, there was enough sincerity in his voice for her to believe he was telling the truth.
"Do people still ride horses in the future little lady?" Buck inquired.
Tara found himself smiling at being called that. It was easy not to be offended by the big man because he was so damn friendly and determined to see to her safety that it bordered on being sweet at time. "Some do," she answered. "But mostly for fun. We ride in cars mostly."
"Cars?" Ezra raised a brow. "Pray tell what is that?"
"Its like a carriage that has a motor like steam engines, only small enough for five people." Tara explained, hoping that was clear enough.
The concept was obviously difficult for them to accept because Karl Benz’s invention was still some years away and little more than a dream at the moment. Tara supposed it was difficult for them to accept so much of what she, Giles and Spike told them. The politics of these men’s lives were confined to the law of the gun and the harsh, real world which they could see, not the supernatural which she was accustomed to. As it was, she was somewhat amazed at how much they had been able to believe considering everything had been dropped into their lap somewhat abruptly.
"What its like where you come from?" Vin asked.
Tara sucked in a breath as she thought about the world she had left behind when she had traveled to this time.
"Well we stay indoors at night." Tara explained as they closed the distance towards Chris’ shack. "We have a curfew set for an hour before dawn, just to make sure people get inside. It’s not so bad in other towns so a lot of people have left Sunnydale. We keep the doors locked and put garlic and crosses on the windows. We keep holy water on hand at all times. Sometimes the vampires are smart, they wait until daylight when people have let their guard down and attack where places are shaded. They can come out during the day, they just can’t enter sunlight."
"Jesus," Ezra whispered. "And this is how you live?"
"I help Giles," Tara volunteered, nothing the horrified expression on all their faces. "I know magic and sometimes I use spells to fight them off. Giles, he knows everything about them and there are few of us that fight them. Me, Angel and Cordelia that is."
"And the slayer?" Buck asked. "Clue me in on how that works?"
"Oh," Tara considered the questions since the Slayer was more Giles’ area of expertise then hers. However, she remembered what Kendra had told her about being a slayer. "A slayer gets called whenever one of them dies. After Kendra, there was Faith but she died fighting the Master. They’re lot stronger than normal humans are though. I once saw Faith bend the barrel of shotgun with her bare hands. They are trained as early as possible to fight vampires, using stakes, knives, maces, Kendra actually used a sword once."
"And they don’t live very long." Vin mused, remembering that much from what Giles told them. "I don’t think I could live like that."
Tara wholeheartedly agreed but then the slayers did not live very long with that either.
***********
The tavern was quite tonight and Chris had no idea what he was expecting.
Even though Inez stood behind the saloon counter, polishing glasses and keeping up the appearance that business was running smoothly, the handful of patrons in the establishment were there by invitation only. Nathan, JD, Spike and Josiah were engaged in games of cards with the vampire looking to be quite the cardsharp like his past incarnation. Outside the sun had well and truly set and the darkness seemed particularly pitched tonight beyond the illumination of the saloon’s lighting. Chris wondered how Vin, Ezra, Buck and Tara were faring; hoping this gamble of keeping them out of town was not in fact monumental mistake. Spike was certain that Angelus was going to investigate his presence in Four Corners once Marsden reported it to the head of his family.
"I hope this works," Giles remarked seated next to Chris. Unlike the gunslinger, Giles was not as calm. They were taking a gamble with this course of action and though he understood the merit of facing their enemy, Giles knew all too well how dangerous a confrontation with Angelus could be. The Watcher chronicles were filled with vampire hunters who thought they could best Angelus and were disastrously wrong.
"Got to know if they’re still a threat. We might be lucky, they could have moved on." Chris remarked, even though he did not believe it.
"I don’t think we’re that lucky," Giles retorted, downing the shot glass of whiskey before him, wishing it was bourbon.
"I thought I was pessimistic," Chris drawled.
"I have reason to be," Giles replied. "I’ve seen too many friends die to be anything else."
"I’m sorry," Chris said earnestly, knowing what it was like to lose people.
Suddenly, Spike dropped his cards and shot a gaze towards the door, the gesture was noticed by every one present in the tavern.
"They’re here." He remarked and stood up.
"Inez," Chris turned to the lovely Mexican barmaid. "Get out of here now."
The woman nodded quickly, not about to question the gunslinger on such matters. She disappeared out the back room, making her way to the church as instructed earlier.
There was little more than a second of warning before the batwing doors swung open and walking in first was Angelus, followed by William, Darla and Drusilla. They looked like exactly what they were, four aristocrats travelling the Territory but their eyes bore into those present with a predatory gleam that Chris never realized was so powerful until now. The humans in the room stood up, guns unsheathed even though their real weapons were tucked inside their coats. It was all concealed in order to maintain the element of surprise for as much as possible. Chris had almost hoped that the vampires would have taken their exposure as a sign to leave Four Corners but now it appeared that was never going to happen. However, instead of attacking as he had expected them to do when they came calling, Angelus and his family were not making any aggressive moves as they entered the tavern.
"Well you were right William, he does look like you." Angelus remarked as he stared at Spike.
"Hello Angelus," Spike eyed the master vampire cautiously. "Thought you’d be smarter than this and move on."
"He sounds like you too," Angelus continued to speak to William.
"He isn’t me!" William snorted.
"I’m afraid I am, junior." Spike winked at his direction.
"We don’t want a fight," Chris Larabee said entering the conversation. The gunslinger strode forward and took up position next to Spike, his gun drawn and ready to fire. "But we will if we have to. We know what you are and we know how to kill you."
"So masterful," Darla replied with a cold smile. "I am impressed."
"Aye," Angelus nodded with agreement. "He’d make a fine vampire if he turned."
Chris bristled uncomfortably at this talk of his potential as a vampire. "Never going to happen. The best thing you can do is leave. You take your ‘family’ with you and go."
"Never going to happen," Angelus glared at him. "We’re here to get answers. Where is he?"
"Who?" Spike said innocently. "Bustling town, lots of blokes running in and out of town, faces get mixed up. You know how it is Angelus."
"The gambler," Angelus demanded. "We want the gambler. I want to know what’s so important about him that you, if you are indeed William, are willing to fight your own to save."
"Its Spike." Both of the vampires declared hotly.
"I won’t ask again." Angelus stared at him hard. "These humans are just that, humans. If I want it from you, you can’t stop me from getting it and we’ll go through your friends to get the answers if we must."
"Go to hell," Spike snarled.
"Not before you." Angelus returned in kind and came at Spike swinging.
The peroxide blond vampire ducked the blow easily, catching Angelus arm while throwing a kick that impacted on his side. Heavy combat boots slammed against his ribs and Angelus roared, his face changing into its demonic visage as he staggered back. The rest in his party did the same, launching themselves into the fray as the humans leapt into action. Spike went after Angelus in particular, because he was the strongest of them and the only one present with any hope of defeating the master vampire. Angelus’ reaction was immediate once he become accustomed to the unusual manner of William’s fighting skills. Obviously he was not facing the minion that had been travelling with recently but a more seasoned and deadly version of Wiliam. Angelus did not understand how this could be but he had no doubt that this was indeed William he was fighting, albeit a more experienced one.
Chris had rushed forward to help Spike when he saw William coming at him. The vampire was far swifter than Chris possibly gave credit and before he knew what was happening, a strong hand was grabbing his throat and lifting him off the floor, his legs dangling wildly over the floor. William’s fingers dug into his throat and when Chris stared into his face, he found himself facing the horror that Ezra had when he had saw the demon’s true face. Yellow eyes glared back at him as William started choking the life out of him. Chris could feel his vision blur as he saw JD run forward to help him, only to have Drusilla slam her fist into the young man’s face and sent him flying across the room. Chris began to gag but he had still presence of mind to bring his foot up, connecting with William’s groin. It was not the most dignified way to fight but at least it forced the vampire to release him.
Chris crumpled to the floor as William howled in pain and reached into his duster for the stake hidden there. He knew he was not supposed to kill the vampire but apparently a stake would do considerable harm even if it did not penetrate the heart. It was certainly more effective than bullets anyway. He brandished the stake and went after William who was trying to recoup from the sensitive blow. William recovered quicker than Chris gave him credit and by the time the gunslinger advanced; the vampire was already on his feet. Chris threw a bunch and caught William on the chin and attempted to throw another punch when his blow was deflected by the vampire who hissed at him with fangs bared and pushed him backwards. Chris stumbled a bit and was about to use the stake again when Giles smashed into William’s body with his shoulder and sent him to the floor. William glared at Giles and threw a backhanded blow that sent the Watcher into a table, collapsing it with the force of his landing.
A surge of panic filled Chris when he saw Giles did not move and his fury forced him to attack again; running forward and leaping, ensuring that when he landed it would be on William’s knee. The action brought the vampire to his knees as Chris intended and the gunslinger impaled William through the shoulder with the stake in his grip as he attempted to recover. The vampire howled in pain, his teeth glistening as he recoiled in pain, taking the stake with him before Chris could pull it out.
"Spike!" Chris heard one of the female vampires, Drusilla cry out as she saw her lover hurt.
Her eyes flashed in green fire as she strode towards Chris, with all the fury of hell behind her. Chris searched for a weapon, sweeping the floor as and resting on the broken fragments of table in which Giles was lying quite unconscious. He quickly grabbed a jagged piece of wood and looked up just in time to see Drusilla right on top of him. She grabbed Chris by the neck once more and forced him to straighten up, her eyes glaring at him.
"Be in my eyes," she said staring straight into his eyes and for a moment, Chris felt all the will drain out of his body when he became transfixed by those mesmerizing eyes. He saw her smile an enchanting smile that held much promise. Desire, need and hunger hypnotized him as he stared into her dancing eyes. Chris could feel his mind slipping from his control and he tried to drag his gaze away, fighting desperately to keep himself from becoming her creature.
"Chris!" JD staggered to his feet, blood running down the side of his face. The young man grabbed a chair and brought it against Drusilla’s back. The female vampire let out a soft cry and upon releasing her hold of Chris, the gunslinger staggered back, blinking furiously as he tried to regain control of his faculties.
"Chris!" JD shouted again. "Catch!"
Almost on reflex, Chris grabbed the small bottle the younger man had thrown at his direction. He caught it with one hand and immediately threw it forcefully against the floor near Drusilla’s feet. The bottle shattered spectacularly, sending fragments in all directions, but more importantly, the fluid it contained in a wide spray. The liquid splashed onto Drusilla who squealed loudly as it began to hiss upon contact with her skin. The holy water burned into her and she screamed painfully and fled the scene, her skin sizzling where the fluid had touched her. Chris saw her disappear into the darkness beyond the batwing doors with William calling after her.
"Dru!" He shouted indignantly, still clutching the stake buried in his arm, blood flowing profusely down his sleeve.
Spike saw his younger self screaming at the batwing doors but had no more time to reflect on that because he was locked in a life and death struggle with his grandsire Angelus. Once Angelus learnt he was not dealing with an experienced William but a seasoned Spike; the master vampire altered his plan of attack. He came with Spike with almost ferocious intensity. For each blow that Spike threw, Angelus was there to counter it until they were matching each other, strike for strike. Spike threw repeated kicks at his direction, staggering Angelus who was not used to fighting this way but was far from helpless. Angelus’ strikes were powerful and each one that connected with Spike had the potential to do serious harm. There was no way that this was going to end without one of them killing each other, Spike thought to himself and knew that he had to find someway to end this battle before it came to its bloody conclusion.
It came sooner than he thought when he heard Chris shout at him. "SPIKE!"
Spike turned to the sounds of the human’s voice just in time to see William coming at him with a bloody stake. If the Sunnydale resident had been warned a second later than he was, it might not have mattered. The stake sunk into the soft flesh between his ribs, tearing through his side with enough force to make him scream. The pain was excruciating and he was driven to his knees, seeing through blurry eyes that Angelus was enraged that William had dared to interfere. Spike grit his teeth, trying to stand but the pain was beyond comprehension. Unfortunately, the master vampire was not about to see an opportunity wasted because he closed in for the kill.
He never made it.
"Get back!" Josiah Sanchez somehow appeared between them both, a wooden cross in his hand as he protected Spike from Angelus. "Get back or I’ll burn this into your hide!"
Angelus hissed in fury at the interruption. "This isn’t over," his eyes moved across the room, meeting the faces of all the combatants that he now counted as the enemy. "Not by a long shot. We’ll find him and then we’ll finish this."
With that, the remaining members of the ‘family’ swept out of the tavern like an ill wind.
For a few seconds, no one spoke, as they came to the grips that they had survived the fight, even though Chris had a feeling that it was by the skin of their teeth. The side of JD’s face was bleeding. Nathan who had been battling Darla along with Josiah was breathing hard, fear clearly showing in his eyes. Neither the healer nor the preacher were hurt and had managed to hold their own against Darla, the oldest of the vampire family. Nathan immediately went to Spike, forgetting that Spike was a vampire only that he was hurt and needed help. Spike who was a pale specimen to begin appeared almost pasty white now from the loss of blood. His injury was severe even though he was trying hard to hide how much pain he was in. Giles had emerged from his unconscious state and judging by the way JD was helping him to his feet, the Watcher would recover.
"It’s alright," Spike tried to fend off the ministrations of the healer when Chris approached. "You can’t do nothing for me."
"But you’re bleeding!" Nathan protested not to take that as any kind of answer.
"I’m a bloody vampire!" Spike retorted in exasperation. "I’ll heal. Just get this damn thing out of me!" He glanced at the stake imbedded firmly between his ribs.
"Spike, listen to Nathan." Chris ordered. "He’ll fix you up."
"I get fixed up on my own," Spike grumbled uncomfortably, unaccustomed to being tended to for injuries. Not that he needed it really. Vampires tended to have amazing powers of recuperation.
"At least we beat them," JD exclaimed, trying to see the positive side of things.
"We got lucky," Chris deadpanned. He was aware of just how close the fight had been and knew that they were here thanks to sheer fortune and nothing else. "The next time they come, we may not be."
"We need help," Spike grunted in pain. "We can’t take them on the way we are. It’s just the four of them now, I can bet that Angelus will have help the next time they come back."
"You mean more vampires?" JD exclaimed.
"Yeah," Spike nodded, bracing himself for the pain when Nathan yanked out the stake impaled in his body. The vampire growled in pain, his face changing momentarily into his vampiric mask until the agony subsided into something he could tolerate.
"I’d better get Vin and Buck back here," Chris sighed begrudgingly because Spike was right.
"No," Giles shook his head, speaking for the first time. He had been a little dazed but had not taken long to regain his faculties. "We need more than just men."
Spike caught on immediately and finished his statement for him. "We need the Slayer."
"Stay still!" Nathan Jackson ordered as he continued to undertake the rather taxing job of treating Spike’s wounds. The vampire had been less that cooperative, believing that medical treatment of any kind was wasted on him since he was creature of the night that had great recuperative abilities. However, large gapping wounds in the flesh was not something that the healer would tolerate on anyone, even a vampire, and was determined to treat Spike no matter how much he protested.
"It’s a bloody waste of time!" Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation, wondering if Nathan had any pit bull terrier in his lineage.
"Listen," the healer glared at him with eyes harder than Spike had seen on some species of hell spawn. "If you don’t stay still, you’re going to bleed even more! Now you will sit there quietly and let me deal with this or I am going to kill you!"
Spike stared back and replied with a mischievous smirk, "you’re pretty when you’re angry."
"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" Nathan threw his hand up in frustration. "What am I thinking trying to help this..this...this demon?" The healer ranted. "It makes more sense if I signed up for the Ku Klux Klan!"
Spike assumed that would be all the man could tolerate of his behaviour and started to rise out of his chair when suddenly Nathan grabbed him by the shoulder and growled with more savagery than any vampire had ever attempted. "Did I say you could go anywhere? Sit your ass back down on that chair!"
"Oh bollocks!" Spike groaned and obeyed, deciding that he better stop being a pain in the neck (no pun intended) before Nathan popped a vessel, though it was nice to know that is ability to kill through sheer annoyance had not diminished one whit in any time. He had begun perfecting the craft for use on Angelus but the opportunity never came.
"Spike, shut up and stop giving Nathan grief!" Chris finally came to the rescue although it had been entertaining to watch. The group had been watching Nathan attempting to patch up Spike ever since their encounter with the vampires in the tavern and could not help being amused by Nathan’s escalating temper. When they were hurt, irritating Nathan was one of the games they used to pass the time in the infirmary. Inez had returned to the tavern once the danger had passed and was presently tending to the minor injuries that had been incurred by Chris, JD and Giles.
"Whatever," Spike grumbled supposing that he ought to give the healer a break since the man was trying to help him. Still, Spike always enjoyed taunting people whose buttons were so easy to push and about now, he was missing the slayer very much.
Chris took another swig of whiskey, allowing it to relax him after the recent episode within the tavern. Even though he had seen Spike turn into a vampire, a part of Chris had been hoping that all this was a mistake, that a quartet of vampires were not trying to kill one of his own in order to prevent a slayer from being born in the future. When Spike and Giles had told them what had brought them to the past, Chris was trapped in ambivalence, unsure of what he ought to feel or how he should act to deal with the situation. After being faced with Spike’s younger self and seeing the vampire Angelus, all those illusions had faded and they were faced with a reality that there were more terrifying things in the night then they had possibly imagined, things that could not be stopped with bullets. It shattered the walls of the world Chris Larabee had felt secure in understanding.
"You said we’re going to need the slayer," Chris turned to Giles who was holding a wet rag against his forehead. "Mind telling me how that’s gonna happen?"
"Well I believe the Slayer of this time period is in Rhodesia." Giles replied.
"That’s a long way to come," Josiah remarked frowning.
"We need Buffy." Spike declared over Nathan’s shoulder. "Look, she’s the only one who’s taken us all on and not had her liver handed back to her. The gambler isn’t dead yet so she still exists in the future."
"Spike we don’t even know that’s possible," Giles returned with a frown. "The spell Tara used to bring us here was very specific, I don’t think it can be adapted to bring someone here from the future."
"We’re gonna have to think of something soon," Chris stated firmly. "Angelus or whatever his name is, will be back, if not tomorrow night then soon. It’s more than curiosity with him now, he’ll be taking this personally."
"You think so?" Josiah looked at him and hoped he was wrong but then Chris seldom was about such things.
"Yeah," Spike nodded. "The man in black is right on the money. Once Angelus takes anything personally, he won’t be let go. He’ll finish this, one way or another."
"Damn," Josiah muttered under his breath.
"Hey is there something about the one who was your girlfriend?" JD called out to Spike.
"What do you mean?" The blond vampire returned.
"Well she was looking at Chris real funny, " the younger man reminded. "For a second, he looked kind of out of his head."
"Yeah," Chris nodded, remembering that strange feeling when he had lost all power over himself and was trapped in Drusilla’s eyes. If it had not been for JD, he would most likely be dead or worse yet, a vampire. "It was odd. I just couldn’t move."
"Dru’s got some special mojo," Spike explained, unaware that none of the men present had any idea what mojo meant. "She was like that even when she was human. She could see things before they happened and get these feelings about people. When she became a vampire, it still stayed with her. Word of advice, don’t look her in the eye."
"You might have told us this before," Chris scowled at him.
"I didn’t think you were going to get that close mate," Spike retorted. "So what’s the plan Watcher? Are we going to get Buffy or not?"
"We’ll have to talk to Tara," Giles said sceptically.
"This girl gonna make that much difference?" Chris asked somewhat dubious about the whole concept of a slayer especially when it was a girl.
"Yes," Giles nodded, not knowing Buffy herself but was knowledgeable enough about the slayer’s abilities to be certain that they could use the assistance. Being unable to kill any of the four made it extremely difficult for them to form a decisive plan. They needed an edge and a slayer would provide that. "I believe it would."
"Then we better ride out at first light to my place," Chris sighed, unable to understand how any of this was possible but after what he had seen tonight, he was at least able to accept the impossible to a degree.
"I want to come with you," Spike stated firmly.
"You can’t even stand up," Nathan deadpanned.
Spike ignored him and explained before Chris could say no to him. "Angelus is going to be even more determined to find your friend and I wouldn’t underestimate him. You saw what you were up against, you still think you can protect him?"
As much as Chris hated to admit it, he knew that Spike was right. Ezra was hurt and he did not know what Tara was capable of to be certain that she could protect herself in the event Angelus and his family discovered them. Chris had every confidence in Vin and Buck’s ability to handle themselves in any situation but this, not when he remembered how close he had come to dying at Drusilla’s hands. Spike had managed to defend himself against Angelus and would have continued to do so if it were not for the vicious interference of his past self.
"Alright," Chris conceded to Spike’s will on this point. "Nathan as soon as he’s patched up, Spike, Giles and I are taking a ride to Ezra’s."
"On a horse?" Giles swallowed.
"I don’t think he meant convertibles made for men with mid life crises, Rupert." Spike said sarcastically.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" Giles stared at him bewildered.
"Nothing," Spike sniggered to himself. This version of Giles had no idea that his other self would be driving an expensive red convertible that screamed out to everyone who saw it that the man driving it was middle-aged. The only thing that was missing was the bimbo at his arm.
"Yes, horses." Chris said impatiently. "You can’t ride?" He looked at Giles with astonishment. He didn’t think any man would not have this most basic of skills.
"No, I’m librarian." Giles respond. "I don’t usually need to."
"That’s alright Watcher," Spike smirked. "We’ll find you a nice pony and lead you there."
"Spike," Giles glared at him. "I’d tell you to drop dead but I’m afraid in your case, it’s a somewhat redundant gesture."
***********
Despite his injury, Spike insisted that they ride immediately to Chris’ shack in order to put forward the suggestion to Tara about bringing Buffy back from the past to help them with their predicament. It seemed to make sense in a roundabout way when one remembered that it was her life they were attempting to save as well as the reality that had existed in tandem with it. It had been a long time according to Spike since he had been on a horse but the same analogy that went with riding a bike seemed to apply in this instance. Giles however was uneasy about being astride any animal and Chris kept a close eye on him as they journeyed to his parcel of land. The shack was not too far out of town so he was able to keep their travel at a somewhat leisurely pace and still manage to reach it before sunrise.
They arrived at the shack shortly before dawn and awoke everyone with their presence. Predictably, Ezra had complained about the interruption to his slumber especially in his convalescence. As usual, Chris paid little attention to the gambler’s complaints mostly because he was certain Ezra did it to be annoying. Once he had explained what had transpired that night in Four Corners, regarding their confrontation with Angelus and his family, Ezra’s complaints subsided and he expressed his gratitude that no one including Spike was hurt.
"Not that we ain’t glad to see you," Vin glanced at Chris after they had all settled down to some breakfast and hot coffee, "any reason that you took all the trouble to ride out here? I reckon Spike there shouldn’t be moving on account of him being hurt."
"Tell me about it," Spike muttered as he took the spare cot that Chris had in the house for the rare occasions when Vin or one of the seven dropped by for the night. The injury was starting to heal rapidly and by night it would probably be gone altogether but for the moment, the pain bit at him.
"We have reason for coming out here," Giles exchanged a brief glance with Chris before turning to Tara. "We need to know if you can do the temporal spell again, Tara."
Tara stared at him. "To do what?" She asked somewhat bewildered. As far as she was concerned, they had accomplished all they needed to do with the time travel spell and should not have to perform it again until it was time to leave.
"We need the slayer here," Giles explained after a second. "We did not fare well last night and we believe Angelus will be back tonight or tomorrow night perhaps, with minions. We are greatly handicapped by the fact that we cannot harm them for fear of damaging the timeline, however we lack the strength for that. We need the slayer, specifically Buffy. Can the spell be modified for that?"
Tara stiffened with uncertainty. "I don’t know," she muttered. "I think it can be but assuming that she’s alive in the future, for me to get her back requires specifics I don’t have."
"What kind of specifics?" Chris asked.
"Like you understand anything she’s saying," Buck retorted.
Chris scowled at him before turning to Tara for an answer. It was true, much of what was being said was so far beyond the boundaries of credibility that he scarcely believed that any of it was being discussed in a serious conversation. However, these were far from ordinary circumstances and after the last 24 hours, he was more inclined to believe in the fantastic no matter how incredible it might seem.
"Well I need to know exactly where she’ll be. I’ll have to be able to see it in my head so that I can bring her back," Tara explained. "I don’t know if I can do that. I mean I’ve never even met her. I don’t know what she looks like."
"That’s it then," Chris sighed. "We’ll have to do this on our own."
"Unfortunately, it appears that you’re right" Giles frowned. "I did not think that we would be able to succeed but I had hoped otherwise. It would have made things less complicated."
"No argument there," Vin nodded in agreement. "Looks like you’re going to have to rely on us to keep you alive Ez."
"As much as that would normally comfort me to hear you say that Mr. Tanner, I’m afraid in this instance, I feel as if I should acquaint myself with a wardrobe that includes cloves of garlic, holy water and numerous crucifixes."
"Why can’t I do the spell?" Spike suggested.
"What?" Giles stared at him.
"Why can’t I do the spell? I know the Slayer, I know what she looks and I sure as hell remember the time and place the last time I saw her. If the Witch helps me with it, why can’t I do the spell?"
"Don’t call her that," Vin said with an edge to his voice.
"Its what I always call her," Spike growled. "Come on Witch, what do you say? We can do it, can’t we?"
Tara did not answer immediately and felt increasingly uncomfortable with the way all eyes were staring at her, waiting for a response. Her mind whirled at the possibility. It was not possible for Spike to do the spell, he did not have the power that she had to make it work but his offer, had opened up another avenue they might take. She could use him as the conduit to direct her power in the performance of the spell, let his memories find the slayer in the distant future so that she could bring Buffy back to this time. That had some chance of succeeding and it was better than the brick wall of impossibility they had faced a few seconds ago.
"Yeah," she nodded meekly. "We can."
"Are you sure about this?" Giles gave her a concerned look.
"No," Tara answered honestly. "I’ve never tried anything like this before so I can’t be sure of anything. It might work and then might not. We won’t know until we try."
"I suppose we can’t ask for more than that," the Watcher sighed in resignation.
"You can do it Tara," Vin said encouragingly, giving her a little smile in the process.
Tara blushed, unaccustomed to having the attentions of a man aimed in her direction. After being friends with Cordelia for so long, she had grown used to being overlooked when it came to the opposite sex. They seemed to prefer the spectacular radiance of the former cheerleader in comparison to her plain appearance. However, ever since they had been sequestered at the shack protecting Ezra, Tara had noted the consideration the young man was showing her. He ensured that Buck Wilmington, whose aim in life was to charm every woman he met, did not bother her with his usual forward manner. The others said nothing, noting the interest the tracker was showing her but had the good manners not to make mention of it. This however, did not apply to Spike and while the vampire did not say anything out loud, he lapsed into that juvenile bout of sniggering she was at a loss to explain.
"We’ll have to do it tonight," Tara spoke in an effort to break the pause that Vin’s statement had wrought upon the discussion.
"That suits me," Spike remarked, easing into the pillow on the cot and closing his eyes. "I’m in no hurry to turn into a crispy critter."
"Alright then," Chris replied, feeling his own weariness taunting him with dreams of sleep and rest. It had been a long night and by the looks of it, Giles and Spike needed the rest almost as much as he did. "We’ll get some sleep and deal with this spell or whatever tonight."
"What about Angelus?" Vin asked before they ended the discussion. "He liable to drop in on us?"
"Not until tonight," Chris retorted. "Even if he does, the others know that their best bet tonight is to stay indoors and not get in his crosshairs. Hopefully that will keep them out of our way until you can do this spell of yours to bring the Slayer here."
"What’s her name again?" Buck asked.
"Buffy," Giles responded.
"Buffy," Ezra snorted. "It is a good thing I am unable to disown any progeny of mine for inflicting such a title upon an infant. Imagine naming a child Buffy."
"Well if this thing the little gal’s gonna do, works," Buck shifted his gaze at Tara. "You can ask her yourself who named her that."
Tara swallowed thickly as the conversation descended into jokes about Ezra’s future as the progenitor of the Slayer, hoping that she would be able to manage what they wanted.
That she could deliver the Slayer.
***********
It had been a long time since Angelus felt this kind of fury and hatred. However, now that he was experiencing it, he noted that it gave the demon inside him the edge he needed to plan his next move. His blood boiled with rage as being defeated by one rogue vampire and a bunch of snivelling humans. The family should have been able to kill them all but they had failed because the humans knew what they were dealing with and how to fight them. The leader, the one who had caught Darla’s eye and had gone hand to hand with William had rallied them together with enough will to launch a defence that should of all rights been impossible.
It was not in the order of things that the prey should defeat the wolf.
This was to be have been a night of pleasure, a nice of screams and terror, where the blood of the strong would fill his lips and nourish his soul. It was not meant to be defeat and yet in his loss, in the wake of their injuries, Drusilla’s burns and William’s near staking, he felt himself surging with the salt of challenge. It had been a long time since he had encountered a situation that required his utmost concentration to deal with and Angelus could not help but revel in the possibility. The humans and the strange aberration that was the other Spike had declared war upon him and Angelus was never afraid to fight, as long as he won.
And he intended to win.
Upon being driven from Four Corners in defeat, Angelus left Darla to deal with William and Drusilla’s injuries while he journeyed south. His destination was a town called Purgatorio and he knew it by reputation. It was the kind of place where the worst in human villainy seemed to congregate and he needed that. In the small town near the border of the continental United States and Mexico, Angelus was certain what he would find what he needed in abundance. He and Darla had visited the place once before and they had fed well. Fortunately, a dead body in this town was hardly a novel experience and no one seemed to care very much about corpses found in the street. Most were stripped of their possessions long before questions about their death were asked, if any. His return to Purgatorio had nothing to do with feeding in this instance.
The humans in Four Corners had thrown down the gauntlet before him. Angelus had no difficulty picking it up. However, he would have them know what it was to challenge him. If they wanted a war, he would give them one and in Purgatorio, he had more than enough bodied to create soldiers for his new found cause. He fed on as many as he could that night. They were easy enough to lure and those who did not come often wander away alone. It was a simple matter to waylay them and during those vulnerable moments and did what he needed to. Some came willingly, not truly understanding what he offered, beyond the gift of immortality. Others resisted but he took them anyway and their blood was always sweeter than those that wanted to die. By the time the sun had begun to rise, he had them sequestered in one place, having paid handsomely for the accommodation that allowed them to continue the turning in peace. He himself was trapped in Purgatorio during the daylight hours but that was fine with him. It had been a long night for him and he needed to rest.
When the sun set tonight, his minions would awake and they would return to Four Corners and teach the humans who dared to harm him and his family, what it was to die in agony.
***********
Nightfall came too quickly in Chris’ opinion.
During the day, that had been this feeling of safety that wrapped itself around him with its warmth. To see the world in sunshine ensured that the evil that crept in the dark places of night was held at bay, kept powerless by the glimmer of light. But with the inevitable coming of dusk, that security withered away and though their hiding place was meant to be a secret for now, Chris knew what comfort he drew from that was fleeting. It would not be difficult for Angelus to find out where Ezra was, Chris had realized. He did not underestimate the vampire enough to believe that Angelus would not be able to narrow down the possibilities of Ezra’s location. All he had to do was question someone who lived in the town.
Ezra had insisted on remaining at the shack tonight, much to the gunslinger’s annoyance but Chris could not find it in his heart to deny the man. Instead, he summoned the rest of the seven to the shack, hoping the increased numbers would aid in protecting the gambler in case Angelus and his company did learn where he was. He could understand Ezra’s desire to stay and supposed that if it were his descendant about to be conjured up in a spell, he would want to stay to meet her. Besides, Ezra seemed a great deal healthier than he was two nights ago while Spike’s injuries had disappeared all together. He had not lied about the vampire’s powers of recuperation because the wound that had given Nathan so much concern earlier was no longer visible on his skin.
Now, they stood watching as Tara and Spike sat within the circle she had created from the contents of the bag she had brought from the future. The seven and Giles stood within the small clearing of trees near the shack watching the spell being invoked. Tara and Spike were sitting on the ground, legs crossed and facing each other. Their hands joined as a thin black candle illuminated their small space .Chris understood nothing of what was transpiring, aware that something was happening that was beyond his comprehension but he was somehow accepting as being real. The young woman who was shy and prone to stammering whenever anyone spoke to her seemed different now. If Chris had to put a word to it, he would say she felt radiant.
Chris glanced at Vin next to him and saw the tracker’s face etched with concern. It was not easy for Vin Tanner to show his feelings. Even though he was just shy of his thirties, he was wiser than most people his age. His blue eyes saw a lot and were much older than he appeared to be. Somehow through the course of his life, Vin had learnt to guard his emotions while Chris had forced his behind a wall because of grief and despair of having lost a wife and child.
Together they had formed a bond of friendship, far stronger than the attachments that kept the seven together. He knew, with the same kind of insight that made spells and vampires possible, that Vin would be at his side always, no matter what turns their lives took. That is why he knew that Vin cared for the girl Tara more than he should. It worried Chris because anything between them was impossible and when Vin fell for any female, he usually did so with his hart worn on his sleeve. He would be hurt deeply because when this was all over, assuming that they survived that is, she would have to leave. And that departure would break the tracker’s heart if his feelings for Tara were as far along as Chris suspected.
Chris turned back to Tara when the young woman began to chant and noted that the rest of his companions were just as transfixed as he by her words, dipped in enigma, laced with all things unreal. Even her voice seemed to change, for there was none of that uncertainty but a power that was as old as time, perhaps even older than men. It was a power that was uniquely female, a presence the Indians might call as Mother Earth making herself known to all. Even Spike seemed transfixed by her words.
Suddenly, Tara’s eyes opened and she stared at Spike directly; her eyes were completely black. There was no iris, not whites, nothing but a soul crushing darkness that sent shivers of fear through all the men present. The hands holding Spike’s clenched and her veins began to throb on her neck and her wrists with such force that they could see it against her pale skin. Chris saw Vin reacting, wanting to stop this but instinctively, he knew that the spell had gone too far for that and he grabbed the tracker before he did anything to interfere. Vin looked at Chris in question and all Chris could do was stare at him stricken, before shaking his head in an order to desist. Vin stared at her and suddenly a furious wind appeared out of nowhere, blowing like a powerful gale as leaves and dust started hurtling through the air.
"What the hell is happening?" Buck demanded, the fear in his voice was clear.
"Stay where you are!" Chris shouted over the sound of the gale. "Don’t do anything."
"It’s the spell," Giles struggled to explain as he held his glasses to his face.
Spike had started to cry out because Tara’s nails were digging into his skin, her finger nails impaled his flesh and drew blood. It ran in rivulets down his pale skin, hissing into the candle as it dribbled. However, the vampire did not pull away and seemed to be enduring the pain. His head was thrown back and his face had changed to its demon mask, with fangs bared and yellow eyes wide with agony. It was more than just her fingers that was causing his pain, Chris realized. Something else was happening.
The air became charged with electricity and the first clap of thunder roared through the air. They had not seen the lighting come before it and the sound repeated itself, growing louder until they could hear nothing else, not even the violent wind blowing around them.
But they could still her the words.
"If I command the stars, they will fall;
If I see inside the mind of the undead, I will make his thoughts real
If I see the one to whom his heart belongs, I will make her appear,
And if she were lost in time, I will bring her through the mist.
I call to thee, Goddess of the Three,
Tisiphone , Alecto and Magaera,
Listen to your daughter's call,
In the eye of the undead,
Find the one, who is endless,
Find her, whose soul does not die,
Bring to us the chosen
I call upon thee as a daughter of the moon
Bring forth the Slayer!
***********
When Angelus returned to Four Corners that night, he was not alone. He had been poised for the sunset as and soon at it had disappeared past the horizon; he had been ready to move. Not all that he had killed had risen in time but he knew that it would. It mattered little anyway, he had more than enough minions he needed for the night’s excursion and as for information that was not entirely a problem either. Since his arrival in Four Corners, he had developed an interest in the lovely editor of the Clarion News. The young widow with the cascading blond hair was a strong determined woman who not only spoke for the community in her journal but also wielded considerable weight in the community. He had marvelled at how a delicate lady of breeding could find content in such frontier surroundings and began to imagine how it would be to deconstruct her existence before he turned her.
He had spent numerous nights at her window, watching her contently and sketching her loveliness so that he could study her closely in the hours when he could not be with her, as he liked. He was preparing to insinuate himself into her life when William had made his indiscretion with Ezra Standish and destroyed any chance of that. Nevertheless, Angelus had not forgotten her and in light of the situation he was now faced with, he realized that while he may not be able to play his mind games with her, she more than anyone would have the information that he needed to find the gambler. Angelus knew that the human Larabee had some feeling for the woman called Mary Travis. He knew it because in the rare occasions that he had observed them together, he could feel the heat of their emotions for one another. Both were so afraid of what they felt for each other that it was almost painful too watch. Sometimes, the naiveté of the human species was unbelievable.
He wondered if Larabee had warned her and decided that it mattered not.
***********
Mary Travis heard her door knock and wondered who it could be as she went to answer it. Chris had warned her about inviting any strangers into her house before he had left town this afternoon and though he would not tell her why, Mary was certain that there was genuine fear in his voice when he gave her the warning. Chris was not usually the kind of man who fretted over nothing and though she hated it when he gave her orders, because he was just the gunslinger who protected the town, not her lord and master, she found herself heeding his advice. After all, anything that frightened Chris Larabee, should frighten her if she had any sense at all.
She did wish he had told her what concerned him so much now that she approached the back door of the house. Her visitor whomever he was had knocked on her kitchen door which suggested to her some familiarity since most of her callers, chose to knock at the front door. Mary wondered if perhaps Chris had ridden back to town and supposed that was entirely possible, after all she did not keep tabs on him despite everyone’s belief that there was something between them. In truth, they had a friendship born of mutual trust and respect, everything else was mere innuendo by those who believed a man and woman could not have a relationship did not have something to with romantic emotions.
Not that she would mind that of course but Chris Larabee had a tendency to make her want to slam her head against a brick wall and that was not entirely the best basis for a relationship. Though some had argued that the line between love and war was painfully thin and one day, she could make the crossing into some great unknown. Mary tried not to think about such things because she liked her future being a surprise and if there was anything meant to be between her and Chris, she supposed she would find out soon enough. There was no point driving herself insane, trying to get a head start on fate. Swinging open the door, she found her perceptions on everything she knew shatter in an instant.
The man standing before her was not a man. His face was contorted with ridges and fangs, his yellow eyes glared at her with malevolence and his expression was one of such ferocious need that Mary might have screamed. However, she didn’t. She could not when the creature before her was holding a young woman in his arms. Mary recognized her as one of the saloon girls that worked at Digger Dan’s Saloon. The man, Mary observed and then recanted, no he wasn’t a man. He was, she searched the description she had read in a book of folklore once, a vampire. Nosferatu! Her mind screamed the word but the logical part of her balked at the suggestion because Romanian mythology was just that, mythology; it had no basis in fact. Yet the journalist in her, the one who reported what she saw, knew that what was before her was no myth, it was real and it was baring its fangs, ready to rip the girl throat out in front of her.
"Hello Mary," Angelus smiled, keeping the saloon girl firmly in his grip, her head yanked back exposing her bare neck, she whimpered in fear but her terror was inconsequential to the rest of the play he just put in motion.
Mary wanted to scream at the fact that he knew her name but she did not. She remained frozen, wanting to help the girl in her grip but had no way of doing so.
"I guess by the look on your face, your man didn’t tell you about me?" Angelus taunted.
Chris, Mary thought nervously. He meant Chris. "What are you?"
"What do you think I am?" He grinned and then ran his tongue along the saloon girl’s neck.
"Let her go," Mary said impotently. She had had no weapon. Nothing that she could use against a creature like this. Her eyes darted to her kitchen and she searched the room for a knife before realizing that it would do no good to her.
"I might be convinced to," he replied, amused by her gumption at making a demand she had absolutely no chance of getting. "If you’re willing to give me what I want."
Mary’s eyes widened at the possibility at what he might want from her but the life of the girl in his arms made her ask nonetheless. "What do you want?"
"Nothing so terrible as you might think," he chuckled, guessing what she had thought first. "Just a little information."
"What kind of information?" Mary asked again. She wondered what information she possessed that this creature was willing to murder to acquire.
"I want to know where the gambler that rides with Larabee is," Angelus stared at her hard.
Ezra? Why did this creature want Ezra? "If he isn’t in town," Mary stammered. "I don’t know where else he could be."
"You disappoint me Mary," Angelus glared at her, his teeth starting to graze the helpless girl’s throat, drawing a cry of fear from her quivering lips. "I thought you were smarter than that. Don’t make me take a bite now. I’m not particularly hungry but I will kill her if you don’t tell me what I need to know."
"I don’t know what you want!" Mary cried out in exasperation. The terrified expression on the girl’s face burned into her memory and yet she remained frozen in her doorway because she knew something about the legends regarding these creatures and that it was her best protection. She hated her cowardice at not daring to cross that threshold but she could do nothing else.
"Where would your darling man hide the gambler?" Angelus demanded again. This time there was no taunting in his voice, just ruthless determination.
Mary thought quickly, hating to betray Chris but she had no choice She was in a corner and she knew it. She prayed that Chris knew what he was doing that he was able to protect himself far better than this girl Angelus had could. "Let her go and I’ll tell you." Mary spoke finally.
"I don’t think so." Angelus retorted.
"You don’t have a choice!" Mary snapped, wondering where her courage had come from and whether or not she was insane exercising it with this creature of the night. "You want your information, I want her freed! If you think I’m stupid enough to tell you and rely on your honesty to let her go, then you have another thing coming!"
Angelus considered her words, the girl was not important enough for him to care whether or not she lived or died. However, he did not underestimate Mary either. Angelus moved his lips away from the girl’s throat and walked her forward to Mary’s door. "I’ll give her to you at the same time you give me your information."
They neared her door and for a brief moment, Mary thought that the legends were false that he might be able to breach her home. She felt her blood rushing through her heart like a tidal wave and could tell by his widening smile that he sensed her fear. She did not care. Anyone who was not afraid of him was a fool. Angelus paused at her doorstep, where he was almost inches away from her. Mary reached out her hand and looked at the young woman in his grip.
"Take my hand," she instructed.
Trembling, the girl raised her arm and Mary clenched her fist around her wrist. Angelus still had let her go but Mary had no doubt that he was swift enough to retrieve her. However, there was no more time to delay. She had to give him his answer now.
"If they are anywhere," Mary swallowed, "it’s at Chris’s shack. Its not far from here, about an hours ride north of here."
No sooner than she said that, she yanked the young woman through the doorway and noticed that Angelus had made no move to stop her from doing so. He could sense from her fear that she was telling the truth and so he felt he could be magnanimous on this occasion. Besides, he had plans for Mary Travis and killing her right now, despite the protection of her home could wait. He had to admire her courage though and understood what it was that drew Larabee, though the fool was too proud to admit it. The saloon girl whose name he never quite got was being held by Mary now, as she wept her relief to be freed.
"You got what you want!" Mary hissed. "Now get away from us!"
"Thank you Mary," the vampire smiled at her. "You’ve been most cooperative. I’m taking my leave now cause it serves me to but I’ll be back soon enough. You can count on it."
And with that, he was gone, leaving Mary standing in the doorway, shaking so hard she thought she might faint. However, she regained her composure quickly enough. She had to. Chris was in danger.
She had to warn him.
***********
There was a terrific explosion of sound and energy.
It was as if lightning had ruptured in the sky. Chris saw the flash of blinding white light flare to life over Tara and Spike’s circle, the power of it flowing outwards in all directions. The seven dropped to their feet trying to avoid its outpour. Their ears rang with the noise it generated and as it washed past him, there was heat and all things unearthly impacting against their skin. It was a strange tingling sensation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. When it swept past them however, the gale and the noise ceased abruptly. Chris raised his eyes from the ground, just in time to see the candle between Tara and Spike blow out. Somehow through all the wind and chaos, it had managed to remain alight. Tara slumped forward once its light had diminished. Although he appeared almost as exhausted as she, Spike managed to catch her before she hit the dirt. Vin was on his feet and at her side in a few seconds. Spike seemed to be glad to relinquish the hold on her because his own energy had been drained during the ritual and he allowed Vin to take Tara in his arms.
"Tara," Vin called out. "Tara, come darling, wake up!"
Nathan hurried to Tara and immediately checked her pulse to make a more medical examination. "She’s alive," he stated. "Pretty weak though. "
"The process is exhausting," Giles explained as he looked on in concern. "She was like this when we arrived here."
"Did the spell work?" Ezra inquired, looking around them and seeing nothing out of the ordinary once the gale and thunder had disappeared. There was certainly no sign of the Slayer.
"I’m not sure," Spike answered wearily. "She’s the expert."
Suddenly, something in the slight breeze caught Spike’s attention. "Oh bloody hell."
He never had a chance to finish the sentence because bursting out of the clearing was Angelus and at least a dozen minions. Spike scrambled to his feet, his body aching from the effects of the spell but they had trouble in every way possible and he had to be ready to fight. The rest of the humans with him had also turned to face the vampires before them and Spike hope they were able to handle himself because he was going to have enough trouble keeping himself alive. He studied the minions around them and knew that they were newly created for the purpose of this confrontation.
"Vin, Giles get the girl to the shack!" Chris ordered. "You too Ezra!"
Vin nodded quickly, scooping Tara in his arms and running towards the trees that frame the clearing. Giles followed him as the others fanned out to deal with any vampires that might try to follow them. Ezra on the other hand was not eager to leave his friends behind at all. Vin had taken the girl to safety because it was necessary but Ezra was not about to let someone else fight his battles, no matter what kind of enemy wanted him dead.
"If you do not mind Mr. Larabee," Ezra said firmly. "I think I shall remain."
"This ain’t a negotiation Ezra," Chris barked. "GET GOING!"
"So this is Ezra," Angelus looked at the gambler in interest. "You’re a pretty important fellow aren’t you? Mind telling me why?"
"I thinks it because of my contribution to the gambling institution in this country," Ezra deadpanned.
"Why don’t you sod off Angelus," Spike placed himself between Ezra and Angelus who was slowly inching towards the gambler. "There’s no way you’re getting your hands on him."
"I have more than enough companions here to ensure I do," Angelus retorted, glancing at the minions standing by him, waiting for the order to attack.
"They’re young and bloody stupid I wager," he studied them closely. "Where did you get them? At the local saloon?"
"You never could beat me Spike," Angelus retorted. "What makes you think you’re going to do so now?"
"Because I’m not as young as you think," Spike glared at him.
"I noticed but its not going to change anything." With that Angelus launched himself at Spike and his minions did the same to the rest of the seven.
Chris’ first thought was to go after Ezra and get him to the shack, even if he had to be dragged there kicking and screaming. Inside the house, Ezra had some measure of protection from the vampires that wanted to kill him. If the gambler remained to fight at their side as noble as that effort might seem, he was only going to get himself killed. Chris strode towards the gambler when suddenly he was knocked to the ground by one of Angelus’ vampires. He reacted swiftly, throwing a fist over the face that was lunging for his neck. Throwing the vampire off him, Chris scrambled to his feet and threw another backhanded blow at the creature. The vampire stumbled back and the gunslinger got to his feet, reaching inside his coat for the stake that had become just as important to him in the past day as he gun. He flung the stake forward and caught the creature in the heart. The vampire shrieked in pain before exploding into dust before Chris’ astonished eyes.
Ezra saw Spike fighting Angelus and wondered whether or not Chris advice should be taken and that he should run to safety. However, he had run once before when the group had needed him and it was a shame he still had not managed to live down. Ezra could never do that again. Suddenly he heard Buck screaming and saw that the big man was desperately trying to reach JD even though he was having troubles of his own with a vampire that was determined to kill him. JD was fighting hard but his demon opponent had the advantage and it a few seconds it would not matter any more. Ezra ran forward and tore JD out of the creature’s hold. The vampire snarled at him in fury as JD fell to the ground, panting hard as he clutched his neck. The gambler who had been in possession of holy water since his had all began, threw the small vial of fluid into the vampire’s face. Glass shattered and the contents of the vial hissed into the demon’s skin. The fluid’s potency against the creature was like acid and a scream ran through the night.
Ezra did not have time to savour the victory because something big slammed into his side and knocking the wind out of him. Ezra felt the stitches in his throat rip at the fall and he could feel warm flood flowing from the wound, staining the collar of his shirt. The sight of blood seemed to send the vampire about to kill him into something of a frenzy and Ezra felt himself being lifted by the arm with such force that his shoulder popped. He let out a cry and tried to fight back but the vampire was too strong for him. With a sinking feeling, he realised that he should have run when Chris told him. Because of this stupid sense of honour, which had never been a problem before, he was going to get himself killed and with him, doom the future that needed his survival so badly. Suddenly, something happened. He felt himself released and he felt heavily onto the grass. It appeared the vampire had forgotten him and as Ezra scrambled to his feet, clutching his wounded neck, he realised why.
She was young. She could not be anymore than twenty if that and her clothes were nothing he had ever recognized as fashion or appropriate for a young woman. However, without any doubt, Ezra knew he was looking at the Slayer.
She had grabbed the vampire that had almost ended his life and flung him halfway across the clearing. The others realizing that there was a new player in the game immediately left the other humans and went after the girl. They hoped to overwhelm her with numbers. They were in for a surprise. Ezra rose to his feet and went to join the rest of the seven who were staring with amazement as she fought the demons with almost effortless skill. She was almost graceful. Her movements were fluid. When she fought, she did not merely use her fists but her whole body. She spun in the air, kicked high, twisted her body and sent blows that dropped the enemy with brutal force. They watched her stake the vampires that came after her, one by one, watched them explode into nothingness, with her barely raising an eye.
"We should probably help her." Ezra managed to say.
"I think we’d only get in her way," JD stammered looking at the young woman in nothing less than awe. She caught a fist in her hand before twisting it so hard that the arm and ultimately the body that it was attached to spun around in the air and landed heavily on its back. She dropped to one knee in a swift movement, plunging the stake that had been sharpened and worn from use into the vampire’s breast and reduced it to dust.
Another vampire came up behind her and this time she had help, Chris had run forward and slammed his fist into the vampire’s face. The creature snarled at him and took a step toward the gunslinger when suddenly he exploded into nothingness in front of Chris. In its place was the slayer, holding the stake she had used to vanquish the demon. She raised her eyes to him about to say something along the lines of thank you when suddenly the expression on her face changed.
"DUCK!" She shouted.
Chris dropped to his knees just as the slayer hurled her stake overhead. Chris shifted his gaze slightly and saw it imbedded in the vampire that had tried to sneak up behind him. It howled as the stake struck home and like its other demonic brethren made its death in a dusty end. Chris looked around and saw that the minions were gone, she had killed all the vampires that converged upon her so hungrily but the danger was by no means over. In their efforts to stay alive, they had forgotten that Spike was battling Angelus alone. Both master vampires were still battling each other in a fierce combat but it appeared that the toll of performing the spell that had brought the slayer here had placed Spike in a decided disadvantage. He was managing to stave off death but it was clear that he was being worn down.
The slayer did not waste time with words for she assessed the situation quickly enough. She bolted past them and leapt into the air to deliver a flying kick into the sternum of the vampire that was giving Spike so much trouble. Angelus snarled in fury as he was sent sprawling and when she landed, Spike was at last given indication that the spell had worked.
"Buffy!" Spike exclaimed with genuine joy in his face.
"What’s with you?" She asked. "You’re supposed to be the Big Bad, how long does it take you to dust one vamp?"
"Take a closer look Slayer," Spike grumbled, reminded now of why he lingered in the nexus between loving her and wanting to snap her neck. She was charming as ever.
Buffy turned to face the vampire she was fighting and found her face melting with astonishment. "Angel?" She stammered.
The vampire stared at her in confusion because the new arrival was looking at him with familiarity. He did not understand it but he did feel the strength emanating off her. She was exceedingly powerful this one and that kind of force could only mean one thing; she was a Slayer. He also realised that he was by himself, that the minions he had spent the last 24 hours cultivating were all dead. No doubt at her hands. Angelus did not like the odds and he needed to regroup. It was time to make a strategic withdrawal. Furious that he was going to taste defeat or worse if he remained, Angelus did the only thing he could do at this point.
He ran.
Spike let out a sigh of relief when he saw Angelus leave because his energy reserves were exhausted. The spell had depleted him considerably and he had been on the ragged edge of his limits when he had battled the vampire. It had taken every ounce of strength to prevail and hold off an unfortunate demise but none of that matter now because Buffy was alive and she was back. Before he even questioned the sanity of it, he had bundled her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Her felt her lips open for him, questing and exploring his own before she stiffened in his arms and shoved him away. That was follow by a swift punch on the jaw.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" She demanded as she looked around her surroundings and the men who she had just saved by her arrival.
"Good to see you too Slayer," Spike frowned as he rubbed his chin as he looked up at her from the ground.
"Spike," she rested her hand on her hips and stared at him. "What’s going on! One minute we were fighting like we always do and the next thing I know, I’m in the woods! Woods I don’t know! And what’s with all these guys? Is the rodeo in town or what? What’s with the cowboy look?"
"The cowboy look?" Chris asked. It better not be him she was talking about.
"Yeah," Buffy turned to him. "You, with the man in black thing. Although none of the westerns I’ve seen had the guy in black being such a hottie."
A crooked smile crossed her lips as she studied Chris in a way that made him one to blush for some reason. "What’s a hottie?" He looked at Spike questioningly.
"Nothing you ought to be worrying about," Spike rose to his feet and growled, suddenly feeling very territorial about Buffy.
"Spike," Buffy took a deep breath, staring at him impatiently. "It’s been a long night, I want to go home and get a bath. I have homework to help Dawn with and a very depressed Willow to console. Whatever this is, get us out of it or I’ll have to hurt you and why is Angelus here? Did something happen to Angel?"
"This is the Slayer?" Ezra looked at Spike sceptically.
"Yes!" Buffy threw up her hands. "I am the Slayer and you are obviously a reject from Maverick! What the hell is going on?"
Spike stifled a laugh but had to remark wit a smirk across his face, "isn’t it lovely to know that you’re related to her?"
"Related?" Buffy exclaimed and stared at Ezra. "What are you talking about?"
"Buffy Summers," Spike patted her on the back. "Meet your great, great, great, great grandfather, Ezra Standish."
"My what now?" She stared at Ezra in astonishment and realised that he did sort of look familiar. It took her a second to remember why. He looked a little like her mom.
"Remember the demon?" Spike leaned closer to her ear as she and Ezra continued to stare at each other. "The one who was pretty mad that I saved your ass?"
"You didn’t save my ass!" Buffy shot him a look.
"She sure can cuss," JD pointed out.
"Stuff it Junior!" She barked in annoyance. Buffy who had no idea where she was, was never a happy Buffy.
"Charming too," Josiah grinned.
"Must get that part from Ezra." Buck said sweetly.
"Nothing in this girl’s manner comes from me!" Ezra declared. "I am certainly more polished!"
"Hey!" Buffy glared at him. "Be nice, I just saved all your butts! Now I’m usually a pretty calm person but I’m extremely confused right now and if someone and I mean some undead someone doesn’t explain himself to me right this second, I will stake him!" She turned to Spike and hissed with narrowed eyes. "No matter how good he kisses!"
Spike took in a deep breath and beckoned her close before he responded, "so you admit I’m a good kisser?"
Buffy hit him again.