Summary: A plague is running rampant through Sunnydale and spreading fast.
Rating:G/PG
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Joss Whedon.
Jimmy Kershaw almost kept driving when he saw the big black car stalled by the roadside. He'd been feeling downright queasy ever since lunch; and all he wanted to do was get back to Sunnydale for his date with Jenny.
But it was raining, a hard driving rain...and, for all he wanted to get home, he didn't have the heart to pass by the stranded couple.
He pulled over and rolled down the window of his pick-up. "Car trouble, buddy?" he asked the tall blonde man studying the engine.
"That's right," the man smiled. "Do you know anything about motorcars?"
"Sure." Jimmy spotted the problem. "Nothing much...just the fanbelt. I've got a spare in the truck you can have...it'll do till you get to a garage."
"Thank you," the man said quietly. "Can I pay you?"
Jimmy shook his head; then wished he hadn't. Damn- what had he eaten for lunch? His stomach felt like he'd heave up the entire contents. He hoped he wouldn't be too sick to keep his date with Jenny.
"Are you going to Sunnydale?" he asked the blonde man.
A dark-haired woman suddenly appeared. Now...where did she come from? Jimmy wondered.
"We must return for Miss Edith." the woman said intensely.
Jimmy nodded uncertainly. "Well," he told the man, "that belt won't hold too long, but if you mention my name at Halloran's Garage- Jimmy Kershaw- they'll fix it for you right away."
"Thank you," the man nodded.
Jimmy opened the door to the pick-up. Then...the woman was at his side...something seemed wrong with her face... That was the last conscious thought Jimmy Kershaw ever had.
"Drusilla!" Spike shouted. "What have you done?"
Drusilla dropped Jimmy's lifeless body. "My tummy was growly," she said, showing him a mouthful of bloody fangs.
Spike stared. "But...he was HELPING us! Don't you understand?"
Dru pouted. "So? He'd finished fixing the car. We didn't need him anymore."
Spike sighed, but said nothing. Since the return- and later loss- of Angel, his relationship with Drusilla was on increasingly shaky ground. He hesitated, than hoisted the young man into the cab of his truck, out of the rain. His eyes fell on the picture of the pretty girl above the dashboard.
"Don't you want any, Spike?" Dru asked expectantly. "I left some for you."
"No," he said abruptly, climbing back into the car. "I'm not hungry."
* * * * *
Jenny Porter started getting ready for her date...not knowing her boyfriend would never come for her again. She felt lethargic...were those cramps? But she wasn't due for another week....
Her sister ran into the room. "Hey, Jen...can I borrow your pink shirt?"
Jenny tried to speak...instead she sank to her knees, violently retching.
Her sister took one look and screamed, "Mom!"
By the end of that week the schools had closed; the hospitals were crowded to the bursting point. Giles refused to let Buffy patrol...she spent much of her time in the library, trying to catch up on her school work.
Willow Rosenberg kissed her boyfriend. Oz smiled at her lovingly...his mouth trailing over her skin; but when Willow pressed against him he pulled away.
Willow sighed; she was absolutely sure of Oz's love for her...but somehow, she wished he'd be more...demonstrative. Perhaps she needed to take the iniative?
Drusilla moaned, "Spike...my tummy hurts...and I'm so ...hot."
"Hot?" Spike was alerted. A vampire's body was cold; how could Dru... "I think you need a doctor, pet," Spike said automatically; then cursed himself. A doctor...for a vampire?
"Oz?" Willow's voice was soft, welcoming. She opened her bedroom door invitingly. "Come in."
"Willow?" Oz asked uncertainly.
She smiled at him. She was wearing only her bathrobe.
Deliberately, she let it fall.
Giles frowned over the books...they seemed to indicate disaster, yet...the knock at the door interrupted him.
"Spike!" he exclaimed in surprise.
His unwelcome visitor said simply, "I need your help."
Willow curled happily against Oz. "It's wonderful," she said, surprised. "I never knew..."
Oz kissed her forehead. "Mmm," he said. "Baby...you're sort of...hot."
Willow giggled. "You can say that again."
Oz smiled at her; but his forehead creased in a worried frown.
Giles took one look and knew he'd arrived too late for Drusilla.
Spike was stunned. "But...she was a vampire...how..."
"Death by fire," Giles murmured. "High fever of some sort...she's...burned, inside."
"Everybody's got this crappy flu," Cordelia said pettishly. "Now they've closed the Bronze."
Xander smirked, "There's always the utility closet."
Cordelia gave him a reluctant smile. She could never explain, even to herself, why she wanted him so much....but the fact remained that she did.
"Okay," she agreed, "but Xander...if you call me Buffy again...we're through."
Buffy Summers stared at the Whistler. "A plague? You mean...like Egypt, or something?"
"You're quick on the uptake," Whistler nodded in admiration.
"But...what can we do about it?" Giles insisted. "There must be a cure!"
"Well, of course!" Whistler said impatiently. "But it won't be easy: it's the birth of a dhampire."
Giles staggered from the shock.
Buffy merely looked puzzled. "What's a dhampire?"
"It's...the offspring of a vampire and...a human," Giles' voice was grim.
"Wait a minute," Buffy protested, "Angel told me he...well, he can't."
Giles took a deep breath. "Few vampires can."
"But not all," Whistler chimed in. "Or else we wouldn't have dhampires."
Buffy struggled to process this. "You mean...you have to find a vampire who is able to have a baby?"
"Father a baby," Giles corrected. "Only a male vampire can...occasionally, uh..."
"Do the deed." Buffy nodded. "I get it."
"You don't," Whistler put in, "but you will."
"What's that mean?" Buffy glanced at him sharply.
Giles swallowed. "Buffy...the mother of a dhampire...must be a Slayer."
"What?" Buffy stared at them.
Whistler's voice was gentle. "The plague will continue to spread. Think about that."
Sunnydale was placed under quarantine; but it was already too late. The plague spread with frightening rapidity along the west coast- and then swept east. Thousands died- both human, and not.
After the third vampire died in the same way Drusilla had, Spike ordered his minions to confine themselves to animal blood. There was much grumbling- vampires counted the thrill of the hunt almost as pleasureable as the actual feeding. But for now, at least, their fear made them quiescent.
Willow whimpered as the cramps tore through her body.
Xander scowled. "She needs a doctor!"
"A doctor can do nothing, Xander," Giles said calmly. "And the hospitals are overcrowded wth patients who can't be cared for."
"Hurts," Willow whispered. "Oz?"
"We'll find him, Will." Buffy patted her friend's hand. "I promise you."
Buffy decided to save time by cutting through the graveyard.
"Hello, Slayer," said a familiar voice. "Looking for me?"
"Spike!" Buffy was startled. She started to reach for her stake; but he grasped her wrist.
"No weapons, love! Not much point now, is there?"
Buffy looked him in the eyes, and nodded slowly. "Ok, Spike. I don't want to fight anyway. I need to find Oz."
He looked a question.
"It's Willow," Buffy said, her voice barely audible. "She...wants him. I'm afraid...if I don't find him soon, it'll be too late."
"Oh." Spike looked at her thoughtfully. She moved to push past him; and
he caught her sleeve.
"Wait! I'll...help you find him."
But Oz was already there. He sat next to a barely-conscious Willow, clasping her hand in a desperate effort to keep her with him.
"Oz..." she murmured, half-closed eyes searching his face.
"I'm here, baby. I won't leave you," he promised.
"No...I'm going to leave you." Willow smiled sadly.
"Don't, Will!" Oz's voice was anguished. "I...can't...."
With infinite effort, she managed to lift one hand to touch his lips. "Oz...I've been...so happy, with you."
He felt the heat in her touch. "Me too, baby."
She smiled again. "Thank you...for teaching me...about love."
Oz kissed her fingers. "Oh Willow," he whispered, "you're the one...who taught me."
"Spike?" Buffy asked. "What,um...do you know about dhampires?"
He turned his head, startled. "I know what they are, of course. But...I've never seen one."
She didn't respond, so he probed, "Why do you ask?"
She shook her head. "No reason."
Buffy knew.
She knew when she saw Cordelia holding a sobbing Xander- when Giles and Whistler came out to look at her compassionately.
She stopped dead- suddenly unaware of everything around her. Spike almost reached for her...then let his hand fall.
"Willow?" the question was barely a breath.
Giles started to speak...then, wordlessly, held out his arms. She flung herself into them; and started to weep.
Spike watched grimly- then turned to leave. But there was someone in his path.
"Wait," Whistler said softly. "Take this."
Spike, automatically extending his hand, found himself in possession of a tiny crystal pyramid. As he held it, a blue flame ignited within.
"Ahhh!" Whistler said in satisfaction.
"What the hell is this thing? " Spike demanded, puzzled.
Giles heard them....his eyes widened as he looked at the blue flame. "A Vondrian Pyramid," he breathed.
"Well." Spike regarded him quizzically. "It's nice to know."
Giles oftened wondered how they all got through the dark days after Willow's death. His Slayer was inconsolable, as was Oz...and Xander seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Buffy approached Whistler. "I'll do what you want," she told him. "Do you...I mean, who..."
"Are you out of your bloody little mind?" Spike could hardly believe his ears. "You expect me to..."
"It's not exactly the answer to a prayer for me either," Buffy snapped. "At eighteen, I'm not too thrilled about becoming a single mother."
"Oh, you won't be," Whistler put in. "I'll marry you to Spike."
"Marry me to...ooh, could this get yuckier?" Buffy exclaimed.
"You must both be reasonable," Giles said sternly. "Now is not the time to indulge in personal animosity. We need a dhampire; and ...well, there's only one way to get one."
Spike and Buffy exchanged horrified, yet somehow fascinated glances.
Whistler spoke up. "The Watcher is right- there isn't much choice. We need a vampire who can father a child; the Vondrian Pyramid says that's you." He pointed to Spike. "And- we need a willing Slayer. I don't see anyone else who fills the bill, Buffy."
She stared at Spike, then at Giles. Finally she looked at Whistler, swallowed, and nodded.
"Agreed," Spike snapped.
Whistler headed toward the door. "Tomorrow at midnight," he called. Humming 'Going To The Chapel', he strolled off into the night.
The remaining three looked at one another blankly.
Giles sighed. "I think," he told his Slayer, "we must go have a talk with your mother."
Buffy looked at Spike. "I guess...I'll see you tomorrow."
Spike roamed restlessly through the graveyard. "Tomorrow," he muttered. "I'm getting married tomorrow. To...the Slayer?"
Try as he would, his mind seemed unable to accept it. He felt so strange...sick , almost. And...curiously excited.
He had a desperate urge to talk to someone- anyone- about this.
Buffy closed the door to her room. The sedatives had kicked in, and now her mother was deeply asleep. She opened her closet, studying the contents. What should she wear tomorrow? What to wear...on her wedding day?
There was a knock on her window; Buffy opened it to see Spike on the roof.
"Ask me in," he growled.
Buffy shrugged. "Come in." After all, neither of them could now kill the other.
But once inside, far from acting threatening, he seemed almost...shy. " I wanted..to talk about this."
She nodded understandingly. "I know. I ...don't have anybody to talk to, either. My mother and Giles are both too upset." She stopped. "Normally I would talk to Willow."
"You'd better talk to me." He was prowling about her room, touching her things. She wondered why he was so nervous.
"Well, maybe. It, uh, seems so weird, you know? The two of us, having to..."
"Make a baby?" he suggested.
Her mind jerked away from that thought. She gave him a look of plaintive appeal. "It's not...exactly the way I thought I'd...ever get married."
He sighed; and sat down on her bed. "I can't say I ever gave it much thought, pet. Anymore than I thought of getting attacked by sharks or struck by lightning."
"Nice comparison," Buffy snorted.
He grinned. "I only meant...it's an unlikely thing."
"Getting married to me- or getting married at all?" Buffy inquired.
"Getting married to you. Well, both, actually."
"Didn't you...ever..." Buffy fumbled.
Spike smiled ruefully. "Vampires don't tend to bother about ceremonies like matrimony."
"What about before?"
"Before?" Spike stiffened.
"Before you...became a vampire."
"Oh. No, I wasn't married."
Something in his voice alerted her. "Wait...Spike? Did you ever have a relationship- before you became a vampire?"
Reluctantly he shook his head. "No, times were different then. More...constrained. Only engaged people were allowed to even kiss. And I...didn't have much...tenderness in my life."
"But afterward...you had Drusilla," Buffy said gently.
He shrugged. "Yes, she needed me. And I was too naive to realize that with her, I was second-choice...an also-ran compared with Angel." He glanced at her. "You'd think I'd be used to that by now."
Buffy sat down next to him. "Did you know...there's a prophecy about this? In the Codex? About a Slayer who gave birth to a vampire's child and so ended the 11th Plague...I used to wonder..."
"What?" When she didn't answer, he said jeeringly, "I suppose you thought it referred to you and Angel!"
"Yes," Buffy admitted. "That's why I was surprised when he told me he could never..." Abruptly, she realized he was staring at her legs.
"Hey!" she said in outrage, pulling at her silk sleep shirt and wishing it wasn't so short.
For a fraction of a second, he looked guilty, but then smirked. "Not much sense in that, love. Have to make a baby, remember?"
Buffy blushed. Sitting so close to him, she was increasingly aware of his lean, muscular body.
"Um, I guess...I'm not really your type, am I?" she asked quietly. "I don't look anything like Drusilla."
He stared at her. "Fishing, Slayer? It would be a rare male who didn't find you attractive- and you know it."
"Oh..." she blushed again. "I was afraid you..wouldn't...want me."
Spike sighed in exasperation. "Slayer...whatever other problems we may have...my NOT wanting you won't be one of them!"
"Then, I guess...we go from there?" Buffy offered.
"It seems reasonable, pet."
She smiled impishly. "Well, since we ARE engaged...maybe we should..."
"Kiss?" he asked, so eagerly that she had to laugh.
She leaned forward, timidly slipping both arms around his neck. He pulled her firmly against him. The kiss was tentative, but sweet with promise. Then, just as she started to pull away, she felt his arms tighten around her and his kiss become demanding. She melted to him, kissing him back.
They separated reluctantly...staring into each other's startled eyes.
And out in the night, Whistler smiled up at the lighted window.
With any luck at all...the plague would end in nine months.