Mastery
by ComedyofErrors
Chapter 18
Angelus strode into the hotel around one o'clock. He'd been shopping tonight, trying to find the perfect present for his errant childer. A local hardware store clerk had been very helpful. Angelus had given him vague needs, like portability and power, and the boy had delivered a perfect solution. He'd even bagged Angelus's 'purchase' before his throat was ripped out. Angelus loved that unsuspecting quality in humans. They always assumed that something which would walk out under the light was not a danger. That the dark creatures keep to the shadows.
It had been a good night, as far as nights went these days. In addition to acquiring the parcel he carried loosely under his arm, he'd been able to trick a foolish little girl away from her job as a waitress. She was an excellent server, providing just the kind of meal he loved: warm, feisty, fearful, and tight. He hated to return from a pleasant evening to the disappointing sight of his minions still searching Sunnydale for two runaway vampires.
But the atmosphere in the hotel felt different tonight from the moment he stepped inside. Anticipatory. He could hear the minions chattering in the conference room down the hall. Had some discovery been made? Angelus walked down the corridor of peeling wall paper and forty watt bulbs through the double doors where just over half his minions were sitting. They all stood and bowed the instant that they sensed him. Several younger vampires in the corner cowered, desperately avoiding eye contact with their superior.
Angelus surveyed group. The older ones were smiling. "Well? What have you found?"
"Master," one walked forward and bowed. Angelus recognized him as the leader of the spies he'd sent to Revello Drive. "The fugitives have been seen at the home of the slayer's mother."
Angelus gritted his teeth in irritation. So, Will thought he could defeat his grandsire by teaming with the watcher and Joyce. "Finally. Go rejoin your team and continue the watch. When they leave, I want to know where they go and how many are with them."
The minion smiled. "When I left, there were eight in William the Bloody's party. Of course, there are fewer now."
Angelus tilted his head back, staring at the minion through hooded eyes. His voice was dangerously calm when he spoke. "What do you mean 'fewer'? I know that you weren't foolish enough to attack and give away our position."
The minion faltered. He looked around nervously. None of the other minions were coming forward in his support. "I...we thought it was best to lessen their numbers immediately so that - "
Angelus grabbed the idiot by the throat and twisted his head off. The dust hadn't settled yet when he heard the crash of glass breaking. A moment later, he smelled smoke.
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Spike closed his lighter as the cotton caught fire. With ease he lobbed the missile at the front door of the hotel. It broke just as a minion was trying to run out and escape the Molotov cocktails previously thrown through the windows of the structure by the werewolf and the watcher. The minion caught fire as he jumped the threshold. An instant later his ash decorated the lawn.
The building wasn't fairing much better. The old curtains and paint went first, but the wood around the windows soon glowed as the gasoline driven flames blossomed. Spike could see ash bursting out of the windows periodically, as the vampires inside attempted to jump out and combusted in the process. Stupid wankers should have broken through the thin walls. But they couldn't think that far ahead.
Arson was fun, Spike decided. The flames danced beautifully. Brought out the urge to write more daft poetry. The way they licked at the building, consuming it as if it were a lover...damn, too late. Already got a love sonnet in mind. Bugger. Well, it wasn't like he'd ever really stopped writing poetry. He just made sure that no one could ever find it after he wrote it.
Spike would've liked to have been closer to the blaze. But Buffy looked at him with those sweet green eyes and pouted, while she very gently suggested that maybe with his legs still weak, it might be best for him to guard the front door with a crossbow. From across the street. Behind a van. With Chris standing on the opposite side of the van from him. Spike would never have believed it possible for a chit to be that bossy without bruising his ego. Buffy managed somehow.
He supposed that it was her continued concern for him took the sting out of being treated like a convalescent. If he were honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he was getting tired. All that walking around at the mall and running around tonight was draining. Which was why he wasn't being the slightest bit truthful. He continued to stand beside the van he could just as easily have been sitting in. Spike wasn't stubborn. He was just performing the task at hand.
That damn smoke was getting thicker. It blocked out every other smell and it was making his eyes water. He hoped Buffy was doing as she'd been told and staying back from that mess. The smoke had to be almost overwhelming up close. Every once in a while Spike could catch sight of her hair off to the left of the building, so he assumed that all was well. Much as he disliked magic, he was glad the little red witch was around to act as an extinguisher if something went wrong. The girl had been telling Buffy a little more about her actions during the Mansion raid while they were in the van. Pretty impressive mojo for a kid. Maybe she could do something about the bloody ozone layer.
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He was surrounded by imbeciles. That was the only possible explanation for the loss of three lairs and three quarters of his minions in two months. Angelus did not make mistakes when he traveled alone, or with his own chosen companions. He controlled everything. These minions were turned by Spike. Naturally they were inferior in skills to those Angelus would have made. And traitors too, he supposed. He doubted that those that were out hunting right now would come looking for him once they discovered that the hotel had been burned.
Angelus had seen no successful escapes from within the hotel save his own. He'd had the sense to get out onto the roof, then leap to a nearby tree. He thereby avoided the armed enemies that waited outside the fire. The entire area was lightly wooded. There were sufficient trees for him to get far away from Buffy and her hunters. The little girl was being brave, still playing at being a slayer. Well, he'd finish what he'd started with her before an hour was passed. He just had to capture the proper hostage.
He clutched his present tighter. Good thing he'd charged it at the store.
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Spike thought for a moment that he heard a noise over the crackling of the fire across the way. A snapped twig maybe. This far out of the center of town, they'd hoped to avoid witnesses. He turned to look behind him, crossbow leveled at the lightly wooded area behind Chris and himself. He didn't see anything unusual, but he was growing more certain that he'd heard something nearby.
He heard the sound of clothing fluttering against the breeze above him. He tried to duck away but it was too late. An arm locked around his torso and a knee hit him sharply in the spine, near the point at which it had previously broken. He howled in pain as a shockwave from the impact ran through nerves in his legs. He would have collapsed if not for the thick arm that had knocked his crossbow away as he was overcome by the pain.
Spike could smell charred flesh and fury, and underneath it all Angelus. Spike struggled trying to loosen the larger vampire's grasp on him. Nothing worked. His legs tried to help him run but they lacked the coordination. He couldn't even reach Angelus's arm with his teeth. Then he felt the stake pressed against his heart.
Spike saw Chris come running from the other side of the van. The minion stopped a few feet away, afraid to do anything that might cause his Master's dusting. He kept his crossbow up, but he couldn't fire with Master Spike in the way.
Angelus growled at the unworthy creature that dared to threaten him. "Drop it boy, or I'll dust your Master here."
"No!" Spike shouted and began to struggle again. Angelus smacked Spike's ear with his free hand. It began to bleed from the force of the blow. "Now, now Will my boy, unless you want to be dust this instant we'll hear no more from you. Drop it!" He finished with a bark.
Chris stared at Master Spike. Slowly, he lowered his weapon. He hoped the Powers that Be were as merciful as they were said to be.
Angelus dashed Spike's head against the van's side, then leaped forward and dusted the minion. He was back at his grandchilde's side in an instant. Spike was trying to reach his dropped crossbow. Angelus couldn't have that. His first kick broke some of Spike's ribs. The second bruised his stomach. The third to the head rendered him unconscious. Boy always was a weakling. Angelus found the brown-paper wrapped package that he'd dropped when he tackled Spike. He took a moment to admire it as he stripped off the wrapper. His new nail gun was a beautiful invention.
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Buffy was watching the flames when she felt it. A sudden, inexplicable feeling that something was wrong.
Things had been going smoothly since they'd left the house. They went by a gas station and filled up some gas cans. Buffy and Oz went in to pay. Buying several gallons of gasoline, a funnel, and half-a-dozen cigarette lighters got them an odd look from the cashier, but no one questioned them. By the time the van arrived at the hotel, they'd filled fifteen old bottles with gas and stuffed rags in the top. There was a debate about who was going to light and throw the bottles.
The minions were strong and accurate enough to get the cocktails through the window every time, but they weren't to keen on the whole fire thing. In the end, Buffy divided her troops into pairs, human and nonhuman. Buffy and Giles, her mom and Ryan, Cordelia and Jacob, Willow and Alexa, Oz and Morrie. Each of those pairs would take two bottles. They'd spread out around the building and start the fires, then wait to make sure nothing got out.
She deliberately left Spike and Chris to guard the front with the remaining bottles. Spike was angry about that. He didn't say so while they were with her friends and the minions in the van, but Buffy could tell. She knew his moods so well. He wanted to be closer to the carnage. He didn't want to be treated like a weakling. Buffy pulled out all the stops in pleading with him. The eyes, the touching, the pout. She sighed in relief when he gave in at last. She knew she wasn't going to win all their arguments that way, but it wouldn't matter so much when he was in top shape.
Buffy couldn't help worrying. In a week Spike had managed to get so far under her skin that she couldn't think straight without knowing where he was. The first few days had been about needing her sire, but now...she just needed Spike.
They'd stood beside each other, hands liked, until they saw Angelus marching down the street. It surprised her how little she felt in seeing him again. What he'd done still hurt, but Angelus wasn't worth the tears. And the pile of dust he was about to be wasn't either. She'd given Spike a sweet but teasing kiss as she left him to take up her post. Fifteen hits of gasoline and fire later, not one single vampire had come her way. Well, there was that one guy that jumped out the window and tripped over a burning beam. He was gone before she could even raise her stake.
So why did she feel so frightened?
Nothing was happening here. She could leave Giles for a few moments to check on Spike. She didn't doubt her sudden insight that it was Spike that would be in danger, and not the others. She just knew. She excused herself from Giles with a mumbled apology, not even looking at him as she began to jog toward the van. She didn't see Spike on this side of it. She slowed her pace, going quietly forward.
The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise as she reached the van. She lifted her stake to the ideal angle. She extended her senses. Two vampires were behind the van. One was her sire, but the other felt different than Chris. Older. Powerful. Slowly, dreading what she would see, Buffy rounded the van. She gasped when she caught sight of Spike.
He appeared at first glance to be standing in front of a tree with his arms over his head. His head lolled to the side, his eyes closed. Buffy could see blood on both sides of his face. There was also some running down his arms from punctures through his wrists. She looked closer at the battered flesh between his hands and forearms. Nails. Many of them in each wrist. He'd been nailed to a tree.
She let her eyes follow the line of his body down. Spike was on tip-toe, trying to keep the pressure off his arms, which had been nailed too high on the tree for him to stand properly. His arms were tensed under his duster, trying to free themselves, but unable. An abandoned nail gun was at his feet. Spike stirred, sensing her. His eyes opened and caught hers for a moment. Then his head tilted, gesturing to the side. Buffy braced herself and gripped her stake tighter.
"Not quite the Crucifixion, but it was the best re-creation I could make with the materials available." Buffy whipped her head around to see Angelus standing on her right. Arms crossed and holding a crossbow, he was leaning comfortably against another tree. "I'd love to wait until sunrise to see him dust. Perfect eastern exposure and all, but I don't want to join him."
He uncrossed his arms and aimed the bow at her. "You know, a lot of people don't understand how artists like me can bear to part with work we took great pains to create. The reason we don't get all teary is that we know the value of what we're parting with. Spikey here is pretty near worthless, though he does make a pretty martyr. You Buffy had the chance to be my crowning artistic achievement: a turned and broken slayer. You gave that up and now you have to stick to being a prelude to Spike's dusting. Actually the first to go was that hopeless minion." Angelus gestured to the pile of ash on the ground. "Hope you weren't too attached to him. But hey, it won't matter soon, 'cause you'll be dead."
Buffy felt the air vibrate as the crossbow fired. She dove to the ground and the bolt zinged past her ear. Then Angelus was on her. While she was still on the ground he grabbed her by the shoulders and flung her back at the van. The metal side resonated with the force of her impact. Angelus grabbed her right leg but she kicked him away with her left. She leaped to a fighting stance, searching for the stake she'd dropped. She was going to stake his smile off.
Angelus gave her an appraising look. "So, did you entertain Spike the way you entertained me? Bet he refused you at first. He never did like taking my leavings. And when he finally did give in he told you it was good, 'cause he's too much of a pansy to be honest."
Buffy tried to keep her anger in check, remembering the lessons of her watchers. She kicked Angelus in the knee, forcing him to stumble, then aimed a punch at his chest. He caught her arm and flipped her over his shoulder. She landed hard at Spike's feet. She lay looking up into his down turned face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at something on the ground beside her. Spike caught her eyes, willing her to realize. The nail gun. Buffy nodded slightly, then lay still, pretending to be stunned.
Angelus took a moment to wipe the dirt of his pants before reaching under the van for his former childe's stake. He tossed it loosely back and forth between his hands as he approached her. He kneeled beside her, so that he could look into her eyes as he dusted her. "You've gone downhill, Buff. Didn't take long for you to forget all that fancy slayer training. I was hoping for more of a fight. Oh, well, this'll give me time to get out of here before your watcher and your little friends arrive. I think I'll take a page from Ol' Rupert's book. Burn down your mom's house. How does that sound?" He raised the stake above her chest.
"Angelus?"
He smiled at her. "Yes Buffy?"
"You talk too much." Buffy grabbed the nail gun with her left hand and blocked the descent of the stake with her right. She whipped the head of the gun up to his throat and fired it. The nail pierced the flesh between the bones of his jaw, then slid through his tongue and into his palette. She heard his pained, instintive attempt to breathe and felt his grip loosen on the stake. She grabbed it out of his hand. She aimed it at his chest. He clumsily attempted to block her, but it was too late. Buffy rammed it home into his chest.
He crumbled around her. Inside her she could feel his death, as a member of the same Order. She knew instinctively what it was, though she'd been too exhausted to feel Drusilla dust before him. For Dru, she felt some sympathy. For Angelus, she would not mourn.
"You okay, pet?" Spike whispered in a ragged voice.
Buffy looked up at him with a tired smile. "I'm not the one nailed to a tree."
Spike chuckled. "Yeah. Well, can't a guy worry about his girl?"
Buffy stood and smoothed out her clothing, ridding it of the remaining residue of Angelus. She leaned in and kissed Spike, gently stroking his face. "I love that about you. You're always thinking about the people you love before yourself. It's one of the reasons I think I'm falling for you."
His face lit up as he smiled back at her. He looked awed at her confession. Buffy kissed him again, this time deeper. After a few moments he pulled back reluctantly. "Luv, not that I'm not enjoying this, but I think I'd enjoy it more if I wasn't still hanging from this sodding tree."
Buffy looked sheepishly at the ground with a small smile at her absentmindedness. She stopped smiling as she examined his wrists. "It's gonna hurt when I pull you free. I think I'll have to remove the nails separately; they're riding on the bone."
"No worries, luv. We'll take it one step at a time, yeah? Ready?"
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Fifteen minutes later Buffy had managed to get Spike into the back of the van. She'd pulled the nails out and bandaged his wrists with some of the torn fabric that hadn't been used for wicks. She'd wiped most of the blood off his face; she could clean him up better when they got home.
The fire was dying down and her friends and servants were returning. She supposed that they hadn't heard the battle on the opposite side of the street over the din of the blaze. When Giles arrived he was cleaning the soot from his glasses. He looked at her curiously. "Buffy, why didn't you return to our position?"
She sighed. "Because Angelus was here." She heard the intake of breath of both the living and unliving. "He escaped the building, somehow."
Giles cleared his throat. "Has he been dispatched?"
"Yes." Buffy looked over at the minions and Morrie. "But not before he dusted Chris." Morrie bowed his head and murmured some kind of prayer. Buffy saw Jacob put an arm around Alexa's shoulder. Alexa put a hand on Ryan's back. The youngest minion was staring open mouthed at the ground. He'd idolized Chris. They'd been very close.
Jacob looked up. "The Master?"
"Master Spike is injured, but he'll be alright." Buffy turned to Oz. "I'd like to stop by the hospital to get him some human blood, so he can heal more quickly. Would you drive us there, then drop us off at home?"
Oz nodded. "Sure."
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Buffy stared at the window of the ICU ward. She didn't remember who'd first suggested that they should visit Xander while they were here. It was a good idea. They could prove that Buffy was okay, that Buffy was good, and that Angelus was dead. Xander'd appreciate hearing it directly from her. But Buffy was more afraid of going into his room than she had been of facing down her nemesis. She'd tried to make excuses: somebody needed to stay in the van with Spike, somebody needed to get the blood. But there had been other people to perform each task.
Xander hated vampires so much. More than Giles, even. And after Jesse...what would he think of her? She was already at odds with her watcher. She didn't want another person she cared about to be suspicious of her.
Cordelia and Willow had gone in first to make things easier. To make sure Xander knew about Spike. And Buffy. And Spike and Buffy. They'd done the hard part. They'd gone five minutes ago, but Buffy still hadn't managed to go inside. 'This is stupid.' Her inner voice insisted. 'Just go in. Better now than later. The sooner you finish this, the sooner you can get back to Spike.' Buffy's demon parts seemed to agree; they wanted to get back to her sire. Before she could question the impulse again Buffy strode to the room's door and entered.
Xander was lying on the bed facing the entrance. He was covered in bandages. Even his hands were wrapped. Buffy couldn't help the little intake of breath as she got her first look at her friend. He'd suffered so much trying to help her.
Xander smiled. He couldn't help it. On some level he knew Buffy was a vampire. That Buffy was living with Spike. That they were doing naughty non-evil things together. When Willow and Cordelia had told him about it, Xander didn't want to believe it. Well, he still didn't. He wanted to believe that Buffy was alive and that Angelus, Spike, and Dru had never come to Sunnydale. But denial wasn't possible when he was in a hospital covered in burns.
Xander hadn't wanted to see Buffy after he'd heard. He didn't want to sully his memory of her by seeing what she was now. A vampire willingly living with Spike. No matter how much Spike had done for her, it just wasn't right. He couldn't believe that Buffy would ever belong with them. For an instant, he'd been ashamed of her.
Cordelia had asked Willow to leave them for a moment so that they could discuss in private. After Willow left, Cordy'd refused to give him a moment's peace until he at least spoke with Buffy. That was one of the reasons he and Cordy were so good together. They kept each other's impulse to do stupid things in check. Now, seeing Buffy for the first time since that horrible night when they'd found her blood in the cemetery, he could see that Cordy was right. While her vampire tendencies might bother him, what mattered was that Buffy was alive. Or undead. At least, not in the ground. He couldn't wish her otherwise. "Hey, Buff."
She smiled. "Hey Xander."
He sighed. "So. I talked with Willow and Cordy. I'm glad you got Angelus."
"Me too. I'm sorry you got hurt trying to come to the rescue."
"That's not your fault." He paused, considering. "A bunch of stuff like that's happened lately that we can't really change. Just move on from."
Buffy nodded. "That's life in Sunnydale. Or death in Sunnydale, in my case."
"Oh, yeah, and not to speak ill of the dead, but about Spike..." Xander was surprised to see a resolve face appear on Buffy. She looked ready to pounce on him if he finished that sentence. He decided to choose wisely and go in another direction. "Do you love the guy?"
Buffy thought for a moment. "He's my sire, so yes. He's my boyfriend, too. I'll love him that way before much longer."
Xander frowned, but said nothing. "Does he love you?"
"Very much."
Xander attempted to shrug, but he wasn't sure how well it went over with the bandages. "Then I'll try to be happy for you."
Buffy felt a few tears threatening to be released. "Thanks, Xand."
*****
Please R&R. One more chapter to go. Thanks to the Readers, Reviewers, and Linda.
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