Part V - Open Wounds

They walked silently all the way to the Doublemeat Palace. Spike hadn’t uttered a word since their previous fight and Buffy felt a little bit uneasy about it. In all their argueing and bickering it had never come to this uncomfortable stillness. Every time something was wrong they would just throw a few nasty remarks about each other and move on as if nothing had happen. She didn’t know why, but this time it was different.

“Could you hurry up, please? I don’t wanna be late for work.” Buffy asked nonchalantly.

The only evidence she got that he had heard her was the quickening of his pace, nothing else. His eyes where still looking straight forward and his hands firmly placed inside his coat’s pockets.

As they reached their destination Buffy turned to him and explained:

”I don’t want people to think I’m bringing someone to work so I’ll go in through the employees entrance and you can just go through the main door as if you were a costumer, ok?”

He nodded and headed towards the fast-food restaurant.

***********************

Hours had past. It was almost time to close up. Spike had spent the entire evening sitting at a table at the far end of the DP just looking at people passing by without even glancing in Buffy’s general direction.

She sighed and took off the ridiculous hat as finished cleaning the grease off the counter.

“Well, time to go!” she announced.

Automatically, Spike stood up and walked towards the door, which Buffy held open for him. Once more in silence, they headed towards the cemetery for one quick patrol before finally going home.

**********************************

As she finished dusting a newborn vampire, Buffy looked in Spike’s direction to see how he was doing. To her surprise he was still fighting the same vampire he had been when she’d staked her first of the evening and that had been four vampires ago.

She leaned on a near tombstone as she watched Spike literally get his ass kicked by a very inexperienced vampire. As the fight evolved Spike seemed to finally get the upper hand and she sighed in relief. The newborn lay on the ground as Spike hovered over him, stake in hand. The older vampire was about to dust the younger one when he felt the sharp end of a broken tree branch go though his chest.

“SPIKE!” Buffy screamed running towards him. In seconds the newborn vampire was dust and the Slayer turned her attention to Spike who laid motionless on the ground next to her. “Oh my God are you ok?” she asked frantically running her hands across his face, shoulder, arms and then back to his face again. “Spike talk to me damn it!” she yelled, slapping him across the check.

“I think… I’d… talk better if you…” he struggled to speak through the excruciating pain in his chest. “… took this… thing… out.” He finally managed to say.

“Oh! Yes, of course.”

Carefully avoiding his heart, she removed the wooden twig. She didn’t know what was more disturbing: the sight of the big whole in Spike’s chest or the agonizing and sharp howl he let out when she pressed over the wound with her hands.

“Bloody hell woman! Are you trying to kill me?” he yelled in pain.

“Well, you’re supposed to apply pressure over it or you’ll-“

“Or I’ll wha? Bleed to death? I’m a bloody vampire, Slayer!” he shouted as he tried to sit leaning on a tree.

“Oh! Right, you can’t bleed to death.” She reminded herself.

Spike hissed as he moved to a more comfortable position.

“Are you ok?” she asked. Concern was evident in her tone.

“I’m just right as rain!” he mocked sarcastically “I blood well am NOT alright.” He shouted in anger.

“Hey, no need to yell at me. It was you’re fault.” She pointed out.

Spike just sighed, he was too tired, too wounded, too everything to argue with her. Slowly he drifted to slumber.

When he opened his eyes he was exactly in the same position and the same place he had been when he passed out. It was still dark but his vampire senses told him that daylight was close at hand. He had to get out of there immediately and sunlight wasn’t his only problem. He knew of plenty demons who would love to get their claws on the vampire who helps the Slayer. And speaking of the Slayer… she was nowhere in sight.

“Figures. Not the first time she’s done it, not the last.” Spike thought to himself as he remembered the night she had beaten him up and left him to rot in an abandoned alley.

As he dwelled on his insane relationship with his former mortal enemy, he heard footsteps coming from behind and to his left. He tried to force himself up, but he was still very weak and couldn’t move and inch. All he could do was sit there and pray it wasn’t a demon.

“There he is.” The sound of the Slayer’s voice was like a wave of relief washing over him, but he decided to play it cool.

“Spike, old pal.”

“Clem, wha are you doing here?” Spike asked surprised. He looked at the friendly demon and noticed he was carrying a strecher behind him.

“Came to help. The Slayer here came by the bar asking for it. Man, you look like crap.” Clem noted.

As Spike absorbed the information he had just received, he felt the urge to smile at his saviour, but instead he looked at her and snarled sarcastically:

“Slayer! Fancy seeing you here! Thought you’re MO was beat’em up, leave’em to rot.” He gave her an evil grin and continued: “Oh! I forgot. You didn’t do the beating up part. Guess that means you don’t get to leave.”

Buffy tried to ignore the stinging in her chest caused by his venomous words as she took the stretcher from Clem’s hands.

The moment he saw Buffy’s reaction to his words he regretted ever saying them. “Bollocks, why do I always have to have my foot in my bloody mouth?” he thought as Buffy and Clem helped him onto the stretcher.

****************************

“Oh my God, Buffy! What happen?” Dawn asked a little panicky as she saw an unconscious Spike laying on the living room couch.

“He got staked.” Buffy explained as she came back from the kitchen with a wet towel.

She knelt down next to the semiconscious vampire and tried to carefully wash the wound.

“Hey! Watch it, Slayer!” Spike hissed as he felt a throat clenching pain run through his entire body.

“Sorry…” she apologized giving him a painful look as she continued cleaning the deep gash in his chest. “This might take a while to heal.” She noted.

“How did it happen?” Dawn inquired kneeling down next to her sister.

“Spike here decided to be an idiot for a night and get staked.” Buffy explained with an annoyed face.

“I was just…” Spike started but was cut off by a suddenly very pissed Slayer.

“What the Hell were you thinking?” she yelled, accidentally applying a little too much pressure as she got rapped up in her rambling. Spike cried out in pain but she didn’t even hear him. “Playing with a vampire like that? He might have been a new one but he could have – What could have possibly possessed you to do something so stupid? I’ve seen you do a lot of really dumb stuff, but this…” she stood up and started walking around the couch. Spike silently thanked the gods that she was at a safe distance from his aching chest. “…this-this just won a place in the Guinness Book of Records. You-you just stood there. You just—You could have—“ she stopped mid-sentence not wanting to admit her worries about his well being.

She looked around the now empty room, somehow in the middle of her rambling Dawn had left the room and she was now alone with him. She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered the tenth of a second when she thought he was gone for good. Suddenly her legs faltered and a tight knot formed at the base of her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

“You ok, Slayer?” he asked concerned.

“I’m fine.” She answered opening her eyes to look at him. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again.” And with that she left the room, behind her was a seriously confused vampire.

Part VI - Healing Wounds

She tossed and turned as the dream she had had the night before came to her once more. She knew it was a dream, but for some strange reason she couldn’t wake up. “Wake up, Buffy. It’s just a stupid dream.” She told herself over and over again. She kept moving around on the bed, gripping her pillow tightly between her sweaty arms. Finally, after a while she jumped up and was able to wake up. She sat there, hyperventilating uncontrollably.

“It’s just a dream.” She repeated out loud.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?” she asked wiping away the beads of sweat on her face with her blanket.

“It’s me.” Dawn’s familiar voice came from the other side of the door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, you ok?” the young teenager enquired. “I heard something break.”

Buffy looked at the shattered glass on the floor next to her nightstand.

“I knocked over the lamp during my sleep.” She explained to her younger sister.

“Bad dream, huh?” Dawn continued the conversation sitting on the bed.

Buffy nodded. She was about to say something, but was interrupted by her door being abruptly opened.

“Dawn’s missing! We’ve… Dawn, you’re here!” a very tired, weak and worried Spike clung to the doorknob for support and stared at the two Summers girls.

“I heard a noise coming from Buffy’s room and came to check it out.” Dawn clarified looking concerned at Spike’s clearly faltering legs.

“You two are ok then?” he asked. Both girls nodded affirmatively. “Good! Then I can pass out.” Spike sighed as he dropped to the floor with a thud.

*******************************

As conciousness came, so did a series of sensory stabbings. The most painful was the sting in his chest, closely followed by the frightening feeling of helplessness. Hunger was another issue that dawned on him. But in the mixture of nausea, pain and discomfort his nervous system alerted him to something else. That smell, that faint pure scent of the Slayer masked by the artificial, but delicate aroma of tropical fruits. God, he love that! He desperately tried to open his eyes and after a while he was able to do so.

“No! Keep the curtains closed or tomorrow morning I’ll have a pile of dust on my bed instead of Spike.”

The vampire squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to focus on the two figures standing next to the window. He moaned a little when he attempted to sit up. Immediately, he felt a strong hand push him back down.

“Don’t get up, I don’t want you bleeding all over my new sheets.” Buffy protested, but he could tell she was a bit concerned.

Reluctantly he obeyed. With a hoarse voice he murmured:

”I’m hungry.”

He didn’t have to wait two seconds; Buffy was already holding a mug up to his cold lips. He could smell the microwave-heated pig’s blood. He was so tired and hungry he didn’t even have the strength in him to make some smug remark about it. He just drank the whole cup.

“Better?” she asked with a sweet tone. A very strange tone for the old vampire, it caused butterflies in his stomach.

“He better be ok or I won’t have anyone to make me a Special-Spike for lunch tomorrow.” Dawn joked as she walked from the window to the side of the bed, opposite to where Buffy was.

Spike smiled.

“Is he ok now?” a very sleepy Willow asked walking into the room rubbing her left eye. She sat down next to Dawn on the bed.

“Oh, so that’s what a fellow’s gotta… cough… do to have three lovely ladies around him. I gotta… cough… get stabbed more often.” Spike joked with a silly grin on his lips.

“Don’t even joke about it.” Willow reprehended him with a slap on his leg.

Spike immediately hissed in false pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” A very worried Wicca apologized.

“Just kidding!” the vampire gagged as his crunched face turned into a grinning one.

“You… you… faker!” she complained.

“Come on, you guys. He’s got to rest. And the two of you’ve got classes tomorrow morning.” Buffy interrupted, standing up from the bed and leading the two sleepy girls out of the room.

“Yes, mommy!” the two mocked in unison.

As they left the room, Buffy went back to get the cup she had conveniently forgotten by her nightstand. She also picked up a strange device which looked a lot like a walkie-talkie.

”If you need anything, just call me. I’ll hear you through this.” And she pointed to the device, then she turned back to leave.

“What? You’re not sleeping with me?” Spike asked innocently.

“Don’t push you’re luck, Spike!” she warned him with a slight smile. “Goodnight!”

“I don’t even get a goodnight kiss?” he continued, curling his lower lip into the cutest pout.

“No.” she answered promptly, the smile on her face grew clearly. “Goodnight.”

“Kiss.” The pout still there.

“No.”

“Pleaaaaaase. Kiss.”

“No.”

“Come on I almost got stake tonight.” He argued.

“No.” she refused to grant him his wish.

“You know you want to.” Suddenly his tone wasn’t childish or playful anymore.

“I do not!” she denied. Her heart started racing. “Oh, please don’t look at me like that.” She begged him in her thoughts.

“You don’t know or you don’t want to?” he enquired, his eyes burning into hers. Buffy just stared back and then he added with a soft tone: “If you didn’t want to, you’d have left by now.”

They gazed at each other in silence. And then she did something that even caught herself off guard. She leaned in and let her lips brush over his. Spike didn’t dare move. He waited for her to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t. Slowly she pulled away, smiled and began walking away.

“Buffy…” he started to speak, but she cut him off without even turning to face him.

“Goodnight, Spike!” was the last thing he heard from her as she closed the door behind her.

The vampire sighed as he laid back down on the bed: “Man, I gotta get stabbed more often.” He said to himself.

On the other side of the entrance to her room, Buffy leaned on the wooden door trying very hard to stop her heart from jumping out of her chest. “God, why do you always have to make me feel like a giddy little schoolgirl with a crush.”

*******************************

The next day, Spike woke up with a slight knock on the door.

“Spike, you up?” Dawn’s soft voice came from the corridor.

“I am now.” He answered, not bothering to open his eyes and look at the young girl who came in.

“Are you feeling any better?”

With some effort he forced his eyelids to rise and focused his sight on the small figure standing at the foot of the bed. The room was dark and the only light that came in was through the door left open and a small line of sunlight that came from under the opaque curtains.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be up and running in a day or two.” He said hopefully.

“Good, that means tomorrow I won’t have to eat Buffy’s version of a healthy lunch. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but she really sucks when it comes to cooking.” Dawn complained as she sat down on the bed.

“I heard that.” Buffy’s voice came from the corridor and soon she was standing on the doorway holding a brown paper bag. “Tofu is a very nutritious food and you will eat it all up, young lady. Now hurry, Willow’s waiting downstairs.”

Grudgingly Dawn jumped off the bed and started walking out of the room.

“Na-na-na. Aren’t we forgetting something?” Buffy asked.

“Goodbye?”

Buffy moved her head from side to side.

“See you latter?” Dawn pretended not to know what her sister was referring to, but when Buffy held up the brown paper bag she had no excuse. Unwillingly, she took the bag from the Slayer’s hand. “Bye, Spike! I’ll see you after classes. Please be a good vampire and get those superhuman healing powers to work their charm.” She walked out and started down the corridor. She opened the bag and peeked inside and couldn’t help but shout back: “Quickly!!”

In Buffy’s room Spike choked back the powerful laugh.

“Hey, don’t encourage her.” Buffy warned.

“Wha?” he enquired innocently, watching her move closer to him. She handed him a mug full of blood.

“Shut up and drink!” she ordered shoving the cup to him.

“So what’s today’s agenda.” Spike asked as he drank the whole mug.

“No plan. You stay in bed, I clean the house.” Buffy explained taking the cup from the vampire and making her way out of the room.

“You’re gonna leave me here alone all day.” He mopped.

“What, little Spikie-Wikie afraid of being alone all day?” she mocked him. “Afraid the Big Bad is going to get him?”

“Hey, I AM the Big Bad.” He explained with a smug look on his face.

“Spike, you haven’t been the Big Bad in a long time.” She continued the mockery.

“Really? That didn’t seem to be your opinion when we played Big Bad Wo-“

“Don’t even mention that. You bring that up once more and-“ she threatened.

“Ashamed of what you like to play?” he asked, it was his turn to tease her.”

“Liked. You seem to have a big problem with the pass tense, don’t you?” she hissed a little bit annoyed.

“I call ‘em as I see ‘em.” He sneered.

“Get some glasses, Spike. There is nothing here to see.”

“That’s true, can’t say there is much I haven’t seen.” He continued to successfully annoy her.

“God, you can be so insuperable sometimes.” She sighed angrily.

“Uh, learned a new word today, have we?”

“I give up.” She raised her tone, setting the mug down on the nightstand with a noisy thud. “There is no way we could ever get along. You always find a way to screw things up. You-you… Forget it.” She waved her hands in the air and left the room.

“Buffy!” he yelled after her. He tried to get up but the pain in his chest wouldn’t let him move. “Buffy!” he shouted once more. This time the effort to call her made him start coughing uncontrollably.

From the corridor she heard him. A worrying pain in her torso immediately replaced her anger and in a second she was sitting next to him patting him on the back.

“I-“ cough “I-I” cough.

“Shh… Don’t try to talk. For once do what I tell you and shut up.”

He stopped trying to speak and gradually the coughing subsided.

“I didn’t mean-“ he started explaining but was cut off by Buffy’s cold and distant tone.

“Forget it.” She made a move to stand up but, before she could move more that an inch, he had a tight grip on her forearm.

“Why do you always do this?” he asked with all the calm he could muster.

“Do what? What did I do now?” she cried out. Her anger and annoyance were palpable in the air.

“Why do you always have to hide? Whenever there is a problem that is not flesh and demon smear you just ignore it.” He continued making his point.

“I-“

“Stop doing this. Stop pushing everyone away and pretend everything is fine, when I know there is so much that is eating you up inside. Just-“

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” she yelled, pulling her arm out of his grip and standing.

“I WANT YOU TO TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG!” he shouted back at her. As he realised what he had just done, he paused, took a deep breath and started to explain once more: “I want you to be able to tell me what’s wrong.”

She looked at him, eyes filled with bitter tears that threatened to overflow. Buffy tried to speak but the words got caught in her throat. She closed her mouth, pushed her dry lips together and swallowed hard before she was finally able to utter painfully:

“I can’t.”

“Why?” he questioned quietly. When she didn’t answer he dared to add: “What happen to us? When you came back we… we were…” he paused, forced the fear and hesitation in his chest to settle and finished: “we were almost friends.”

“You and I are NOT friends.” She started slowly as she remembered what he had told her years ago in the shop that was to later become Giles’ Magic Shop and unknowingly she rephrased it: “We’ll never BE friends.” She looked at him for a while. It was clear he didn’t recall that conversation. All he read from her words was: “You are not good enough to be my friend.” Maybe it was better that way.

Part VII - Dungherjahar Ashesh

Willow turned the key and walked into the apparently empty house.

“Buffy!” she called out, throwing her backpack on the couch. “Buffy!” when she was about to shout once more, she heard a noise coming from the basement, closely followed by the door opening.

“Hey!” a very tired Slayer holding a feather duster in her right hand appeared .

“Whatcha you doing?”

“Cleaning.” She answered throwing her exhausted body on the living room couch.

“Why the sudden cleaning bug?” the Wicca continued asking, sitting down next to her friend.

“Boredom mostly. I don’t think I’ve ever been stuck alone in this house for so many straight hours. It gets really dull very quickly.”

“Alone? Where did Spike go?” Willow asked surprised.

“He’s upstairs.”

Willow look at her inquiringly.

“Don’t ask.” Buffy dogged her friend’s curious eyes and changed the subject: “So, you got anything new on little ET?”

“Nop. Not yet. Tara is coming over later to do some research with me. We’re going to work on translating the rest of the passage about the ritual.” Willow’s face immediately lit up when she mentioned Tara’s name.

Buffy smiled sweetly at her friend and asked:

“How are you guys doing?”

“Better.” Was the single answer Buffy got, but she could tell that things were going very well by the blush that quickly sneaked up Willow’s pale checks.

“Well, I’m going upstairs, take a long relaxing bath and lay down for a while. Let me know if you guys find out anything new?”

Willow nodded, watching her friend slowly climb up the stairs.

****************************

Lazily, the Slayer let the warm water surround her aching body. She closed her eyes and relished in the balmy feeling that seeped inside her through every pore of her soft skin. Her mind swayed between reality and the limbo of sweet unconsciousness. The moment of bliss didn’t last for very long. A knock on the door forced her to open her heavy eyelids.

“What?” she sighed annoyed.

“Uhm-Buffy?” Tara’s faltering voice came from the other side of the door. “You better come out here.”

“Hum.” She moaned, “I’m coming.” She rouse from the tub reluctantly and wrapped a towel around her wet body.

“Buffy! Hurry up.” Willow’s very disturbed voice demanded.

“What?” Buffy hissed opening the door abruptly.

It wasn’t necessary for Willow to explain anything. In her hands the Wicca held the book the strange creature had tried to steal a few nights back. A powerful and pulsating red light emanated from it.

“What happen to it?” the Slayer inquired.

“We think someone used a locating spell on it.” Willow explained. When she noticed the frown on her friend’s face she continued: “Someone used a spell to find this book. It’s now sending a signal to whoever performed the enchantment.”

“Huh? You can do that?” Buffy asked.

“Yes. If-if you have a strong connection to a certain object you can.” Tara stuttered nervously.

“You mean to tell me that whoever did this spell can now find this-“ Buffy was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass coming from her room. “Spike!”

In seconds Buffy was in front of the door that led to her room. As she opened it she saw Spike’s motionless body laying on the floor. She ran to him, but the moment she set foot inside her room everything went blank. Suddenly she was hovering in blackness. She knew her eyes were open but she couldn’t see anything. She waved her arms and leg around trying to reach for something solid. There was nothing there to touch. Her heart raced as the darkness that surrounded her seemed to take over her state of mind. After a few moments panic settled in her chest and all she could do was scream. As she opened her mouth and forced the air out of her lungs she was surprised to find there was no sound coming from her throat. “What is this?” she questioned herself, she couldn’t stop thinking: “Does this have anything to do with the Gentlemen?”. She was about to continue her line of thought when she slowly felt the familiar sensation of being sprawled on a hard surface. Slowly she realised her eyes were closed. “Ah! Just another dream!” she concluded, but when she forced her eyelids to open she saw she was laying on the floor and right in front on her lay Willow’s unconscious body. Sluggishly, she sat up and inspected the room, realising it was her bedroom. Behind Willow rested Tara, her body curled up into a little ball.

“Spike!” she whispered desperately scanning the room for the old vampire. To her relief, she found him laying on the floor, on the other side of the bed. She knelt down next to him, carefully holding the towel around her body and stretched out her arm shaking him into awareness.

“Hum?” he moaned opening his eyes. “Wha happen?”

“You ok?” she asked worried.

He nodded. From behind her, Buffy heard Willow and Tara stir. The Wiccas looked at each other and were relieved to find that nothing had happen to either of them.

“Buffy.” The Slayer turned to see Tara’s worried expression looking back at her. “The book… it’s gone.”

****************************

Everyone sat around the dinning room table in silence. Xander was the first to dare say something:

“What do we do now?”

After a pause Willow exposed her idea:

“This… thing didn’t know how to perform the ritual, that’s why it needed the book. That was clear to all of us. What Tara and I think is that it didn’t even know it needed the…” she paused giving Spike a quick glance and then continuing: “inhuman heart. I guess that’s why it never came for Spike.”

“So now that it’s got the book how long till it figure Spike’s his…” Dawn paused in a very similar way that Willow had just done. “Spike’s it?”

“We don’t know.” Tara started. “From what we translated, it needs something other than… Spike. It needs the…” she stopped to check the sheets of paper she held and read: “Dunghe-dunghejar Ashesh, the Dungherjar Ashesh. Sorry, ha-hard to pronounce.”

“Well, where’s this Dungie thingy and how do I get my hands on it.” Buffy asked matter-of-factly.

“The problem is we don’t know what it is. We have to go to the Magic Shop and research it.” Willow explained.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get cracking.”

They all stood up, including Dawn. Buffy gave her a look and shook her head.

“Please, Buffy. I wanna help.” The younger Summers girl pleaded.

Buffy thought for a while and realised that it was time to include her kid sister, plus she would probably be safer in the Magic Shop where she could keep an eye on the teenager, than alone at home.

********************************

They had been sitting around the table, cover to their necks in thick, heavy, smelly books for hours now.

“I give up.” Spike sighed dropping the book he was reading on the table.

“I wish Anya was here. She’d probably know what this Dungher is.” Willow moaned.

“Wish granted.” The ex-demon’s familiar voice came from the door that led to the training room.

“Anya!” Xander exclaimed surprised to see his ex-bride.

“Willow, can you tell this… thing I am not talking to it EVER again.” Anya said in a cold and distant tone, her chin high in the air as she turned away from Xander.

“Anya, we-“

“Willow, tell it!” Anya repeated.

“Anya?” Willow whispered. She really didn’t want to get in the middle of this.

“Tell it!”

Willow sighed: “Xander, Anya isn’t talking to you ever again.”

“But, An-“ Xander started to protest, but Anya cut him off, holding up her hand to his face and walking towards the table.

“What’s the problem?” she ignored Xander’s pleas and spoke calmly.

Xander was going to start talking but now it was Buffy’s turn to cut him off:

“What’s the Dungher-“ she looked at the piece of paper that had something scribbled in it with Willow penmanship: “Dungherjar Ashesh.”

“Dungherjahar Ashesh.” Anya corrected.

“You know what it is?” Tara asked.

“It’s a powerful dagger used to kill the Lord of the Cimbels.” She walked behind the counter, opened the cash register and took out a small key.

All eyes in the room were on her when she moved towards a small wooden cupboard and unlocked it. Inside were three books that were three times as thick as the ones that were now abandoned on the table. With a lot of effort she tried to pick one of the books up, but it was too heavy and she would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Xander helping her. He gave her a soft smile which made Anya’s ex-demon heart boil in anger, so she simply let go of the book. Under the unexpected burden Xander lost balance and fell to the floor with the book crushing his chest.

“Can’t breathe… oxygen.” Xander breathed forcefully.

Anya stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, enjoying the view as Dawn and Buffy immediately came to his rescue. Buffy easily managed to pick the book up and drop it on the table.

“So what does this baby have?” the Slayer asked, happy to see that everything was falling into place. Even though the chill that froze her stomach told her this story was about to get ugly, she’d rather know what she was facing then live in ignorance of it.

Anya gave Xander another cold look before she turned towards Buffy and started looking though the giant book. They all stood there in silence watching the shopkeeper go through the eggshell coloured pages.

“Here it is. She finally spoke, pointing to a black and white drawing of an old man. It was a normal man but there was something wrong with his eyes. They were entirely black; they had no whites like a normal person. “That’s Aronh, Lord of the Climes.”

“So who was this demon?” Buffy asked impatiently.

“Oh, he was no demon, he was very human alright.” Anya clarified. “Story goes he was the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived. Really big on black magic, hence the black eyes. To make a long story short: lived five thousand years ago, very powerful, wanted to rule the world, unleashed a plague on humanity, diseases, famine, death, yada, yada, yada, humans got together, humans killed him with the Dungherjahar Ashesh, which in Sumerian means Will of the Gods.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Let me guess, this Aronh guys had followers, right?” Buffy deduced. When Anya nodded, she sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “The Climes?”

“Bingo. They vowed to bring him back even if it took them a thousand years to do it. For that they would need the same weapon that destroyed him.”

“Guess they are running about four thousand years late.” Spike groaned. “Persistent little buggers, aren’t they?”

“This is no time for jokes, Spike.” Buffy warned. “What does Aronh have to do with the First Slayer?”

“The First Slayer?” Anya repeated.

“Yeah. Buffy stumbled into a Khind’Ara that was trying to steal this book…”

As Willow told Anya the long story, Buffy fixed her eyes on the old man sketched on the worn out page. It wore a long, dark, hooded robe, which covered every inch of him except for half of his face. 

“So now we were looking for the dagger.” Willow finished.

“Summon the First Slayer? Are you sure?” Anya asked. “Sometimes Djaklan is kinda tricky to translate.”

“Yep. That’s the one thing I’m sure of in the entire passage.” Willow assured.

“Maybe it has to do with the power associated with the Slayer.” Xander offered.

“Well, whatever this thing has to do with the First Slayer, it needs the dagger to perform the ritual. Guess we have to get our hands on that thing before anyone else does.” Buffy affirmed. Turning to Tara and Willow she continued: “You guys search the net and see if you can locate the dagger. Anya, we are going to need your connections with the dealers of magic merchandise.”

The ex-demon nodded, headed towards the telephone and picked it up.

“The rest of us, guess we have to search for a connection between this Aronh and the First Slayer. So noses in the books please.” Buffy directed.

Everyone sighed in unison except for Dawn. She was always willing to participate in the Scooby Gang research parties.

Part VIII - Fitting in the pieces

Buffy looked through the gruelling drawings that illustrated Aronh’s actions in his time. Sketches of people dying of the most agonizing diseases, others being dismembered and decapitated, but the one that stood out the most was the image of a pyramid of skulls built in the honour of the sorcerer. From what was described in between the terrorizing drawings, Aronh had been considered a god by the tribe of the Climes, who carried out his dirty work. 

“Got it!” Anya said triumphantly as she hung up the phone. “The dealer that has the dagger is sending it in as fast as he can. Should be here in tomorrow.”

“Great work, Anya! Now we-“ Buffy stopped talking when she saw Spike bringing his index finger to his mouth, signalling her to shut up. Slowly he stood up and rounded the table, going behind the stacks. A mild struggle was heard and instants later Spike reappeared holding the Khind’Ara by its neck.

“Oh-oh!” the slimy creature uttered with its high-pitched voice, then it gave them the same ridiculous smile it had given Buffy the night they’d first met. “Hello!”

“It was listening to us the whole time.” Xander concluded.

“No kidding Boy Genius!” Spike mocked “Good thing it smells, easy to detect.” As he spoke a drop of the demon’s slime fell from its head onto Spike’s precious duster. “Oh, bloody hell, there goes my duster!” he protested. “Watch where you drop your goo, pal!”

“Sorry!” the creature apologized with a forced grin.

“How does it eat? It doesn’t have any teeth.” Dawn wondered out loud.

Buffy frowned at her sister and looked at Spike:

“Oh great! You got its goo on you, perfect!” she noticed.

“Buffy, don’t worry it only affects humans. Spike’ll be ok.” Willow quickly explained.

The Slayer huffed and turned her attention to the demon, which hung by its neck in Spike’s hand.

“You, start talking.” She ordered.

“Me. No. Talk. Anything!” it pressed its lips together and crossed his long arms over its bony chest in a sign of protest. “You torture. Me no speak.”

It took Buffy only one step towards the creature to make its façade of bravery crumble. In less then a tenth of a second it was screaming:

“No, no, no. No torture. Me talk. Pleeeeeeeease no torture.”

“Not very brave is it?” Xander observed with a smirk.

“I guess we finally found something more spineless that you, Harris!” Spike ridiculed.

“Hey!” Xander resented the statement.

“Guys!” Willow intervened.

Buffy crouched in front of the demon, carefully avoiding getting any of its slime on her.

“Who’s your master?”

The creature looked up at Spike and then back to the Slayer.

“Me no know…” it squealed.

Buffy took a stake from her back pocket and the creature immediately started crying out:

“Me no know! Master is smoke.”

“What do you mean your master is smoke?” Buffy asked, she was starting to loose her patience.

“Master is smoke. When Master is, is all black. Master go puff, no more black.” It spoke quickly and nervously.

“Ok, anybody get that? Cause I think I misplaced my ET lingo to normal speech filter.” Buffy gave up, standing and walking towards the table.

“I-I think what it’s saying is that when it’s Master is with him everything goes black. Com-complete darkness. The absence on light, matter, form…” Tara tried to explain. “His Master is Aronh!”

“That can’t be. I thought the guy was dead.” Xander started protesting.

“Xander, this is Sunnydale. Being dead is not an obstacle, I should know.” Buffy argued.

“Tara is right. I read about this when I was researching about resurrecting t-“ she stopped herself and looked at Buffy for a second. The Wicca’s eyes started to well up with tears, but the Slayer’s understanding smile calmed her and she was able to finish: “the dead. If something happens when you’re… bringing them back…” she swallowed hard and continued: “they can get stuck in a torn space between reality and… the other world. You get trapped in nothingness, in limbo. Someone must had tried to bring Aronh back but failed, probably cause they didn’t have the dagger. Now, Aronh must be, somehow, crossing reality with limbo. That’s what happen to us back in your room Buffy. That’s how he got the book. But he probably can only do that for a few seconds. His soul is trapped in that darkness, he doesn’t have form. The ritual will probably enable him to take form.”

“But what does taking form have to do with the First Slayer?” Dawn finally spoke.

“That thing has a soul?” Buffy seemed to be stuck on the idea that a creature that caused so much destruction could never have a soul.

“Of course. He was human, Buffy.” Anya reminded her.

“Just hard to keep that in mind when you read through this book.” She explained pointing to the large book on the table.

“Wha, Slayer, still think that demons are the only real bad guys in this picture?” Spike asked “Humans can be just as bad, soul or no soul.”

Buffy dropped her gaze to the floor, she couldn’t face the vampire’s accusing eyes. The tension between the two of them was obvious to everyone in the room except for the little demon that was still hanging from Spike’s hand.

“Me go?” it pleaded.

“No!” everyone answered in unison.

“Sorry!” it squealed.

“What are we supposed to do know, Buffy?” Willow asked.

“We stay here and research until we get our hands on the dagger, then we see what we do next.” Buffy explained.

“No, I meant about little ET over there.” The Wicca rephrased pointing to the Khind’Ara demon.

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda tired of holding it.” Spike protested.

“We’ll use the chains in the training room.” Buffy offered.

*******************************************

“Oh! Look how cute it is.” Dawn remarked looking at the strange demon.

It was sitting on the floor, its scrawny legs crossed as well as its arms. From its wrist a heavy metal shackle dangled and chained the creature to the stairs that lead to the top floor of the Magic Shop. It stared at the ceiling with huge gawking eyes.

“It is sweet.” Willow agreed putting down the book she was researching for a second, to look at the demon who was now feverously scratching its chained wrist.

In the meantime, Spike leaned over the counter of the shop and absentmindedly turned the pages of a dusty old book.

“Hey there.” Buffy greeted approaching the vampire.

Spike nodded, his eyes never leaving the book.

“You ok?” Buffy asked “The wound, I mean.” She added lightly tapping her own chest on the spot where his injury was.

Another nod. Awkward silence feel around them and Buffy searched her mind for a topic of conversation.

“You never told me what happen in my bedroom.”

“What do you mean?” he continued to turn the pages and it started to annoy her a lot.

“When I came to the bedroom, before the whole blackness, absence of form thingy started you where on the floor.” She remembered.

“I was?” he asked and for the first time in that conversation he looked at her. “All I remember is one moment I am sound asleep on the bed, the next everything goes pitch black and then I’m on the floor with you calling me.” He explained and returned to the book.

“Oh!” Buffy tried to fill in the silence. “So, whatcha doing?”

Spike raised his eyebrow at her.

“Reading.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Oh! Good.” She continued, leaning on the counter next to him. “Found anything?”

“No.” he answered.

“Hum.”

“Do you need something?” he finally asked.

“No, just making conversation.” She replied.

“I noticed. Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” she questioned.

“Lately? Yeah.” He answered going back to the book.

“Fine! I was just trying to be nice.”

“You? Nice? To me? Since when?” he spoke with an accusing tone.

She stared at him without an answer to his question. They looked at each other for what seemed like eternity. Her heart raced as her mind desperately searched for a way out of that uncomfortable moment. Dawn gave her that chance when she spoke:

“We should give him a name.”

Buffy immediately went into Slayer/Overprotective parent mode. “It’s not a pet, Dawn. It’s a demon and we are not naming it.” She demanded quickly walking away from the vampire and over to her sister.

Dawn pouted crossing her arms. Tara smiled, leaned towards the young teenager and suggested: “What about calling it It?”

Dawn’s face immediately lit up at the Wicca’s words.

“Where are Anya and Xander?” Buffy asked.

“I don’t know, we can’t hear the shouting and yelling anymore, maybe they’ve made up.” Willow offered.

“YOU LEFT ME STANDING THERE!!!!” Anya’s angry voice came from the training room.

“Or maybe not.” Willow sighed.

**********************************************

“An, I’ve already told you. I’m sorry! I was just scared, everything was going so fast.” Xander tried to explain, but the ex-demon wouldn’t have it, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to him. “An, please say something.”

“I hate you.” She hissed.

“Something other than that.”

“I despise you.”

Xander sighed. At least she was talking to him. He was about to continue his pleas when the back door of the Magic Shop fell open. Three hooded figures came in.

“Hey, you’re going to pay for that.” Anya protested and walked after the strangers who ignored her and headed towards the main room of the shop, where the other Scobbies were. “Did you hear wh-“ she choked as the last of the hooded figures picked her off the floor by her neck.

“Anya!” Xander shouted, lunging at the figure that held the ex-demon.

The stranger let go of Anya and focused on the human that was now clinging to him and trying to strangle him. Effortlessly he got Xander off him by throwing him across the room. Xander fell to the floor with a loud thud and hit his head on the wall.

“Xander!” Anya yelled as she crawled her way to the unconscious young man.

The hooded figures ignored the wounded couple and continued towards the other room.

***************************

“What was that?” Buffy asked.

“Xander!” Willow replied standing up and walking towards the training room.

She was barred by the three tall, hooded figures.

“Where is it?” one of them inquired.

“Who are you?” Willow asked.

With a swift move of his arm the stranger flung the witch across the room, just as he had done with Xander.

“Willow!” Tara went to her aid, kneeling next to the red headed girl.

“I’m ok!” Willow assured.

“Dawn, under the table.” Buffy order, her eyes fixed on the strangers. As she tried to look at their faces she found them covered by masks. They were completely black except for a strange white symbol that was carved just above the two eyeholes.

At the sight of the three hooded figures the Khind’Ara demon squeaked, curling up into a little ball.

“Tell us where the heart is.” one of them spoke in a low voice.

Buffy’s heart was racing as her body prepare for a confrontation.

“I have a better idea.” She replied calmly moving towards them. “How about I just kick your asses.”

“The heart, Slayer!” the taller one order. Buffy was about to lunge at them when suddenly a bright red light surrounded them, grew in intensity and when it dimmed the three strangers had disappeared.

“What was that?” Dawn asked from under the table.

“Xander! Anya!” Willow reminded them.

Buffy quickly made her way to the training room to find Anya on her knees holding Xander’s head on her lap.

“Xander?” Buffy called.

When she came closer she found him unconscious. Anya looked up at the Slayer; her eyes bright and glassy with tears. Without a word she moved her hand from under Xander’s head and Buffy saw red blood dripping from her long fingers.

“Willow, call an ambulance.” Buffy shouted.