Chapter Seven

Black tosses and turns in the bed; his sweat soaked skin pulls the sheets with him as he moves in the throes of his nightmare. It had started out all well and good… but the ending was all the same.

* * *

The Black’s Apartment, Alabama - 1997

Black stood over the bed, staring down at the light brown haired beauty in his bed. If her eyes had been open, they would shine a light green blue-gray, faded as if they were aged, and she was a young one she was. Her long slender body was wrapped in the thin sheet. Her dark areola was barely visible through the thin material of the sheet. She stirs as he stares down at her but doesn’t wake.

He had given up killing, given up being a hit man to keep her safe. That had been eight years ago and he hadn’t regretted a day since than.

He reaches down and caresses her smooth golden skin. His dark skin making hers look lighter than it really was. He loved the contrast between them.

As he pulls his hand away, she comes awake, and stares up at him with a sleep clouded gazes, her blue-gray eyes staring up at him. Black smiles as he looks down at her. She smiles in return as she catches his hand, holds it to her cheek, and nuzzles into his palm.

“Everett, where have you been?” She says in a husky voice, her voice.

“I had to take care of some things. It’s a surprise.” Black says as he sits down on the bed next to her.

“A surprise,” she says.

“No Lei. I am not telling you,” Black says in a stern voice. “I’m not falling for that again. I told you the last two surprises before I got a chance to actually surprise you.”

“Fine, be that way,” she says as she sits up in bed, letting the sheet fall as she does so. “I’ll find something else to keep myself busy.” Lei wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. She runs her tongue along his lower lip seeking entrance into his mouth. He opens his mouth to her and takes control of their embrace. Black lays her back on the bed as she pushes the coat from shoulders…

…The scene in his mind fades and they’re in his car driving down a back road to the surprise he had waiting for her.

The day was sunny; the sky was clear and the air warm to the skin. Black looks over and smiles at Lei. She reaches over, takes his larger hand into hers, and holds it in hers.

“You still aren’t going to tell me what this surprise of yours is are you?” Lei asks.

“No,” Black says as he looks from her to the road.

No sooner were the words were out of his mouth than his world goes black as the car is shoved off the road…

* * *

Present - Morning

Black jolts up in his bed, as the door to his motel room slams open, sending the chair that had been propped up against clear to the opposite wall. The chair crumbles to the floor in pieces.

Six vampires march into his room. Five of them come straight over to him and restrain him to the bed. He doesn’t fight them; even though he could very well over power all six of them. Not a word is spoken, and without any ritual, they plunge a needle into Black’s neck.

His head swims and a void opens up and swallow his consciousness in a matter of seconds. The last thought that goes through his mind is, Double crossing bastards!

* * *

Alabama - 1997

The car was a mangled mess of metal; the front of the car is now a horse shore, bent around the trunk of the tree. Water, or what sounded like water, was trickle down what used to be the roof of the car. Another Thunderbird down the drain, that’s how many in fifty years? Black thinks bitterly.

That’s when it comes back to him. The crash… someone ramming into the side of his car… pushing it off the road. He had passed out from a knock to the head on the second shove dealt to the car. Everything after that was a black void of nothing. Lei!

He turns to where she was, and nothing but a mangled image registers in his mind. He blinks a couple of times to try and bring the image into focus. The second the image does come into focus his wished from his mind. Nothing, not if he lived a thousand, two thousand years could wipe that image from his mind. Lei was striped into her seat by the belt, her hand still clutched at his coat… but… but… her head… It was…

* * *

A scream rips from his mouth as he jerks awake. It was the first time in years since he had had that dream, and in such vivid clarity. Tears stream down his face, unbidden and uncared for. He didn’t care. “No! No, no, no!” Black whispers under his breath.

He shouldn’t still be haunted by those dreams. But he was. They came back every year. He thought he had been ride of them because they hadn’t come to his slumber in over 18 months.

He went to bed, some times, at night afraid he would wake with those horrible nightmares, horrible reminders of what reality was.

Clapping draws his attention to the far wall that he hadn’t yet notice, or the room that now surrounded him.

“We have yet to torture you and here you are scream as if a stake had been rammed through your heart.” The voice was cultured, and not a little smug.

“What… do… you want?” Black gasps out. He glances up at his wrists and realizes that his arms are stretched out above his head, constricting his lunges from expanding fully. In turn, making it hard for him to breath, much less speak.

“Me?” The voice says, ridiculed. “No! My Master wants to know why you have not done your job.”

The vampire was tall, lean, insanely lean, with long fingers. His black hair curled around his head in soft curls, giving the creature a gentle, smooth look. His skin was so pale that it looked as if it were made of marble.

He leans forward when he hears a slight noise. He takes a step forward and the noise grows louder. “Are you laughing at me sir?”

Black shakes his head. He needed to stop laughing or he would pass out for lack of oxygen. Taking a deep breath, and straining his arms in the process, Black says in harsh voice, “That’s not… what I meant, and… you know it!”

The vampire has the gull to look sheepish. “My apologizes sir. I did not mean to insult you. However, you are correct. We have… deceived you.” The vampire says as if he were ashamed of it. “We have from the beginning planed to do this.”

“Then why get me involved in the first place?” Black is able to get out in one breath.

“Because, we needed to get ride of the girl. We knew you would study her fighting technique. After that was done with, we would’ve brought you in to tell us how the slayer fights so we could deal with the next one that came along. However, that wasn’t working out. You would not cooperate.” He pauses as he looks at Black. “I was brought in to… help you… No wrong chose of word. I was brought in to persuade you into moving things along.”

Beside, another vampire rolls up a table with knives of different lengths, some, even with serrated edges to them. The cultured vampire picks one up between his thumb and forefinger. He moves to Black and asks, “Anything before we start Mr. Black?”

“Yeah,” Black says, “You know my name… what’s yours?”

“Oh dear! Forgive me. My name is Cornelius.” And with that, the vampire puts the blade to Black’s bare chest, and draws it down.

* * *

Out in the tunnels of the halls, a howl of pain echoed through the barren catacombs.

Chapter Eight
Last Night - 10:00pm

“Hello Cutie,” Spike says and extends his hand. He stares down at her as she looks up at him in awe. He just stands over her with his hand extended wondering what she was thinking.

It can’t be him, it can’t be. Buffy thinks dazed. Can it? “Is it really you?” Buffy asks after what seems like forever. She couldn’t get her mind around the fact that it was actually him. He was here, in front of her eyes, and she still couldn’t believe it.

When she first started to realize that he had been right, that there was something between them, that she’s in love with him, she had felt confused, disorientated even. She had denied it for so long that she felt as if she were being hypocritical about the whole thing.

After weeks turned into mouths after her realization, the idea, the new found emotion toward had grown on her, and she had felt very comfortable with it. The only thing missing was the fact that he had left.

His leaving had effected her a lot differently than Angel’s had… even Riley’s. She had known when he left that it was her fault, really her fault this time. With Angel, it had been his chose, nothing she had done was what drove him away, except for him self, and with Riley, well lest just say that it was illusions of grandeur that drove him away.

Riley just couldn’t deal with the fact that Buffy didn’t need him to take care of her, that she wanted a partner. Not someone to coddle her.

“Of course, Pet.” He said with his usual cocky way, and she loved every utterance of it.

Spike was taken aback as a huge smile blooms on her beautiful face. If he wasn’t mistaken, that smile was directed at him. He frowns and looks behind him just to make sure that it only him here with her. Although…

Before he could finish the thought, he hears a squeal. As he turns back to Buffy, he only has enough time to see Buffy coming at him. He braces himself but still isn’t prepared for what comes next.

He stands there stunned with Buffy’s arms thrown around his neck with her bouncing and holding him close. Slowly coming out of his stupor, his arms raise and he embrace her. She felt wonderful in his arms. He hadn’t been able to hold her since -

No! He pushes his mind away from that memory. Nothing good could come from that. As for the hug, he wasn’t sure what to think of that, or that radiant smile she had given him when she realized that it was him. He didn’t want to let his mind run with any ideas of what any of this could mean and sighed when he remembered about Black.

“Love?” He says. “Buffy?” He says again when she just holds him tighter to her. “Really, I’m not one to complain, but there’s something I think you ought to know love.”

Buffy pulls back with her arms still around his neck. “SO glad that you’re back. So much has happened since you left. Willow almost killed everyone, Giles came back for awhile to help her, and Xander saved the world…”

“Wha? Wait, Xander? The whelp?” Spike tries to interrupt. However, she was going on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Tara was killed by Warren, Willow killed Warren, and Dawn… You should see Dawn. She’s learning how to fight…” She turns back to him. She had been staring at the ground when she had gone through her ramblings. “Dawn… If she finds out that I saw you, and she didn’t…” She shakes her head as her eyes widen.

She grabs his hand and starts off toward her house. He tries to stop her from pulling her any further but soon gives up when he realizes how determined she is when she doesn’t even notice his pulls on her arm to stop her. Instead, he matches his stride to her, and says in earnest, “Love, I have something very important you need to hear. Its about that…”

“Tell me later,” she says in a cheerful tone. “Right now, I want to see Dawn’s reaction when you walk through the door.

“Nibblet?” Spike says softly.

“Yeah, we missed you.”

Spike wasn’t if that had been a slip on her part but he wasn’t about to himself in that place again. He didn’t want to hang on her like he had before. That had only made things worse. No, he decides to just let himself believe that it was a slip and not actually, her meaning it. It was better that way. He wouldn’t get his heart bloodied.

He wasn’t even sure how he had gotten to the house, but the next thing he knew he had a squealing buddle of teenage girl in his arms as Dawn clung to him. She was laughing, crying, squealing, and screaming all at the same time. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to comfort her or rejoice with her. Moreover, she seemed to get louder the more she realized it was really him.

Once, well he was holding her, he had looked over at Buffy to see what he thought were tears glinting in her eyes. To boot, they were tears of joy. He could tell by the smile that curved her lips as she watched him and Dawn.

Spike knew he was going to get a head ache if Dawn got much louder and that would be just ridiculous. A vampire? With a headache? Bullocks!

Pulling her away so he could look into her damp face, his features soften as he looks down at her. “Nibblet, you need to tone it done a bit. I’m gonna go def?” She quiets at his soft tone. “Now how bloody ridiculous would that be? A bleeding def vampire?” He smiles at her.

That gets her to grin back, and then she’s quietly sobbing.

He takes her back into his arms. “Hey now… It’s ok. No need for that now. I’m here.”

He hears a quiet mumbled, “I missed you so much.”

“I know Nibblet,” he says quietly, “I missed you as well.” A strange pang pulls at his undead heart as she continues to cry on his shoulder.

* * *

The rest of the night totally blows Spike away.

After awhile, Buffy leads them into the living room where they all sit down on the couch with Buffy on his right and Dawn on his other side. Dawn’s sobs soon after taper off into sniffles and she just enjoys leaning up against him with his arm around her shoulders.

Spike sits there and listens to Buffy as she tells him about what took place after he left. He couldn’t believe it.

“Where’s the Whelp and his demon?” Spike asks. “I thought they were gonna get hitched?”

“Well, Xander decided that he didn’t want to get married and walked away from Anya at the church. After that, Anya became a vengeance demon again. We didn’t see Xander much after that, but than he started coming back around again. As for after the whole Willow thing, Xander seemed to just disappear off the planet. No one knows where he is. As for Anya, she’s a resident demon. She’s fixing up the Magic Box. I see her around once in awhile but…” She holds up her hands to show that neither search each other out to keep up with the other.”

“I’ve told you what’s been going on here, what did you do while you were gone?” Buffy asks.

As Buffy puts her hand on his knee, he realizes how closer she is. He feels his body tense with the closeness. Her presence made his body react. He could feel it in his groin. His pants were getting uncomfortable. It was also from fear that he tenses. He was tired of getting hurt.

“I’ve been about. Here and there. Nothing worth mentioning.” Spike doesn’t give her a chance to probe deeper. “What about that job you mentioned? How’s that coming about?”

“Well,” she hesitates. “I was working at this place called the Doublemeat Palace but I couldn’t stand that place. So, this summer, I found this other place. I work at the Tai Kown Doe place teaching a self defense class in the afternoon and get off in time to spend he rest of the day if she isn’t to busy.”

“Sounds like you enjoying it?”

“It’s a lllooottt better than the Palace. No burger grease in the hair. SO not of the good.”

He smiles. He couldn’t remember the last time she had talked like this with him. It was right before -

Yeah, after that, everything had been shot to hell… three times then left in shreds.

He sighs and stops mid-exhale as Dawn snores and snuggles further into his embrace. He looks at Buffy, and they both laugh as Dawn lets out another little snore that sounds more like a jumble of words than a snore.

“I should wake her, tell her to go to bed but she looks so comfortable, I hate to disturb her.” Buffy says quietly as she looks at her sister sleeping safely in the arms of a vampire. She smiles at that thought. So different.

“Than don’t,” he says. Off of her questioning gaze, he says, “I’ll take her up.”

She looks surprised. “You sure, I can wake her…” She offers.

“Its nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it love. I got her.” Spike says as he effortlessly lifts himself up off the couch with Dawn securely wrapped in his arms.

Buffy curses herself after Spike is out of sight. This is how it could have been all a long. Instead, she had spent her time hating herself because she had been brought back.

How stupid could you get? She chides herself. She had finally let herself realize what she had known back than but didn’t want to acknowledge.

Everyone probably thought that she had been comparing him to Angel. That, if Angel couldn’t be good without a soul, than how could Spike. She knew better than that. Spike had proved that with Glory, he wasn’t like any other vampire. As corny as it sounds, its true. It wasn’t the chip that made him do the things he had done. It was he, himself that did them.

Sure, that was the excuse she had given, but that’s she had felt like such a hypocrite when she finally allowed herself to feel what had been there all a long.

No, is what her problem was, was with herself. Her insecurities that she didn’t love the right way, that she had driven them away. However, when Spike left, that was actually, what she had done, was driven him away. She had hated herself so much. In a way, she was glad that he had gone when he had, although, now, it wasn’t hatefully so.

With other’s it was their own insecurities that had driven them away. With Angel it had been that she couldn’t deal with not having a physical relationship with someone you were in love with, and in retrospect, she agrees with him. With Riley, well, it was a whole big mess. He had wanted her to be something, she now realizes she’s not, and he couldn’t handle her being stronger, physically.

She’s thankfully pulled from her analysis of her past relationships when Spike walks back into the room saying, “She woke back up when I was ‘bout to put her down. The bird wouldn’t go back to sleep until I told I’d stay ‘til she was off again.”

He slumps down next to her. They slip into silence.

After a bit, Spike rubs his palms on his thighs and says, “I best get going,” albeit reluctantly. “Don’t want to keep you,” he finishes as he gets to his feet.

Buffy stands quickly, blocking his path. “You’re not. Keeping me, that is. You can stay.” She says eagerly. “Yeah, stay the night.”

“Thanks love, but I’ve got me a nice flat…” Spike says.

“Of course you do, but…” She trails off, unsure of how to make him stay. He was different towards her, she suddenly realizes. He probably didn’t want to get back into anything with her. The only willingly thing that he seemed to go for was being friends. In a split second, she decides that’s just fine with her. Anything, as long as, he is here.

“But what love?” Spike asks as he tilts his head to one side.

Not the head tilt, she groans in her head. “But, you could stay here.” She says lamely. Then she brightens when she thinks of something, “You never did tell me what you did while you were gone.”

He shakes his head. “Not for a bit either, am I.” He says.

“What? Say that again?” She demands with a cute little frown creasing her brow.

“I’ll tell you later love,” he says as he starts to walk past her.

He jerks to a stop as she’s suddenly in front of him again, and ramble on.

“No, I want you to stay. I don’t have a reason that you probably wouldn’t want to hear or believe for that matter,” she says more to herself than to him, another cute little frown forming between her eyebrows. “But it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you stay the night.”

His first reaction was to question her non-reason for him to stay the night. Wouldn’t want to hear, or might not believe? Bloody hell. He sighs as he stares down at her with his scared eyebrow raised.

As he watches her, he tries to ignore the fact that the longer he took to answer the more she looked less determined that she could get him to stay, that she was losing him.

“Where do I crash?” He finally asks.

He’s rewarded with a quiet squeal and a quick hug before she tears up the stairs. He frowns. He was so confused.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, he was laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling shocked beyond capacity to ignore the image engraved into his mind.

Buffy had come back down the stairs a few minutes after she had disappeared with an arm load of pillows and blankets. He had sat down in the chair across from sofa to watch her. He enjoyed the view maybe a little too much. The effects were still pressing into the seam of his pants.

She had placed the linen on the coffee table as she had prepared the couch for him. She had turned when he saw it. The gold necklace and silver ring around her neck. It fell out of her shirt as she bent to grab more of the linen.

It meant the world to him that she had kept it, even if she didn’t know it was from him. He fell asleep with a smirk on his face, as the sun was just getting ready to rise.

Chapter Nine
Morning - The Catacombs

Far off, there was the sound of water dripping into a little puddle. It echoed through the empty tunnels of the catacombs, and pounded through his skull. His vision blurred every time he opened his eyes. His arms throbbed from their constant position above his head.

The whole of his chest was torn to ribbons, raw, and bloody. Before the fresh wounds even had a chance to heal, that bastard vampire, Cornelius was back again, and tearing his chest to the bone.

Black was even to the point that he wished that he would move to a different part of his body.

Black wasn’t sure how long it had been. After Cornelius had gotten started on him, he had lost track of time. However, he did know that it could have been more than a day since it had started, and as best he can tell, Cornelius came back about an hour after he had last stopped.

He drifted in and out of consciousness; never quiet knowing which was which.

If knew anything for dam sure, it was that he was being haunted. At times, it tortured him more than Cornelius’s blades did. At others, it gave him comfort.

Her beautiful golden-brown hair shimmered in the torch light. She was wearing a skin dress that hugged her curves, but still kept you guessing as to how soft she really was underneath.

Black gives a bitter smile in the dimly light cave he was sequestered away in. He knew then in an inebriated sort of way that this was a delusion. His Lei would never dress.

In his drunken sort of state, his mind vaguely picks up the distant sound of scratching, scrambling… buzz. It sounded fuzzy to his ears. It might be a rat. He was pretty sure it was rat. Maybe?

The more he concentrated on the noises, the more the sounds registered as nails scraping over rock… small pebbles being moved around, the little clatter of rock moving against rock… a squeaking whine grated on his already thin nerves.

He heard foot steps close by, they were light, and if his mind weren’t on ten different little things at the same time, he would know that the footsteps weren’t supposed to be heard. He would know who it was before they even entered the room.

Another bitter smile leaks onto his lips as his mind drags more pictures of his wife to his attention. She had changed the course of his life practically from the moment he had met her. He loved being with her, making love to her.

He saw a picture of his father back in the early 1600s, right before his younger brother had gotten amnesia and disappeared. I should find him later, Black thought sadly. If Black were in a better state of mind, he would realize that he had found his long lost brother in 1990 in Texas.

Black jerks, as a door slams close by, hurting his ears as the sound bounced off the walls and into his ears. The sounds rang in his ears and rebounded off the now hallow walls of his mind.

When a torch is light by his face, his eyes close against the pain the suddenly light educes.

“How are you doing Mr. Black?” Cornelius’s cultured voice reaches Black’s ears, grating on his over sensitized nerves.

“Grand, and you?” He somehow finds the strength to choke out.

If he had been able to see, he would have seen the amused smile Cornelius let show through.

Cornelius stood by as he watched the minions work. They were horrible beings in his mind. His eyes shift to Black, looking at the healing wounds on the older mans chest, the purple bruising around his eyes, and the blood licking from the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t understand why the Master wanted to let the man lose to clean him. In Cornelius’s mind, it was a mistake. It had been a mistake in the first place to bring the Immortal out here.

Shaking his head, he really didn’t want to get in the middle of this. He and the Master had an understanding, and he would do just that.

Four minions surround Black and tense as another minion steps closer to the barely conscious being attached to the cave wall. His head was lolling from side to side. His legs were limp, and his arms were taut from holding his weight.

As the other minion steps closer, he draws a knife from the waist of his pants and poses it over the straps holding Black to the wall. Everything in done in an animated fashion, as the minion slowly cuts the straps one at a time. The first one is cut and Black hangs by one arm as the minion moves to his arm. The minion slowly cuts that one away.

The minions jump back as Black falls to the floor face first. The thud of his body against the cold rock of the cave echoes the room and out in to the tunnels of the catacombs.

“Pick him up,” Cornelius orders in an unusually irritated voice.

The five minions move in and slowly grab a hold of Black by his torn shirt, his arms, and his longish hair and pull him up to his knees and stop.

Cornelius frowns as the minions suddenly stop. The minions obstructed his view of Black as they were all bent over the immortal. He moves forward a step, and is about to ask what’s going on when one of the minions scream out in pain. He drops back a few steps as the minion turns to dust in front of his eyes.

Black’s mind had cleared with the hard smack of the cold rock to his face. As the minions had picked him up, the minion that had cut him lose had placed the knife back in the band of his pants. As well, he was one of the ones that had a hold of his arms, bringing his hand within reaching length of the butt of the knife.

He had grabbed a hold of that knife as soon of his fingers had brushed it and pulled it lose with a jerk, and plunged it into the neck of the closest minion. All of the minions had frozen at his sudden movement. With a jerk, the minion was dust.

Black looks at each of the minions with a deadly intent that he hadn’t felt for more than ten years. He felt a black out coming and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, even if they were vampires.

Then, all hell breaks lose.

Two vampires jump at him. Black’s hand comes up and grabs it by the esophagus, and catches the other one on the tip of his newly acquired knife. The knife embeds itself into the vampire’s heart but just shy of being enough.

Black looks from the hand his was using to hold the vampire by the esophagus to the one on the knife. He gives the knife a slight twist as he looks back to the other. His hand tightens, and the vampire’s eyes widen from the pressure.

In Black’s suddenly clear mind, he was sure that the vampire had thought that only a Vampire Slayer had had this kind of strength. Actually, he is stronger.

Black pulls back, his fingers digging into the vampire’s neck. Then suddenly he thrusts his arm forward. A loud snap echoes through the cave and then the vampire was dust.

Liquid black eyes, like burning black fire raise and meet the yellow cold eyes of the other three minions in the cave. All three stand in shock at the sudden change in the second ago, barely conscious immortal.

In quick cessation, Black is on his feet and at each of the vampires’ throat’s so fast that the vampire’s had a hard time watching him move. The first vampire he comes to, he twists the creature’s neck, the second he cut his head completely off with the knife, and the third, Black’s hand rips through the vampire’s rib cage and crushes its heart. His movements so fast, Black pulls away in the second before all three vampire’s combust at exact, same moment.

Not caring, not having the strength to fight them off even if there were more, Black collapses to the ground with ragged breathes wheezing from between parted lips. He lies on his chest for quite some time, listening, waiting. Waiting for what? He wasn’t for sure. Then he remembers as his body forces him into breathing once again.

Awhile later, he’s not sure how much later, but Black pulls himself to his feet and staggers over to the entrance of the cave. His side smacks against the cold rock of the cave and he rests, his body only able to carry him so far. The last time Black had been tortured was when he had been captured by the Iroquois for hunting on their land. His father had been furious with the Iroquois for that. Ivan had almost had the whole tribe killed for torturing his son.

Shaking his head, Black stumbles into the tunnels of the catacombs, focusing as much of his energy as he could on finding his way out of the caves and as far away from the vampires as possible. Or, at least, until his was up to full strength and can deal with them more properly.

On his way, and amazingly, Black only had one problem on his way out of the catacombs, another vampire. The vampire was easily taken care of. Using his weakened state to his advantage, Black had acted like his was wounded and fall into the vampire’s arms. Not much acting there.

When the vampire was sure that the being in his arms was no more than a harmless fly, Black kills the vampire. He stumbled forward as the vampire had turned to dust.

He wasn’t sure how he had ended up out in the open, but he was glad for the fresh air, instead of being locked up with the smell of his own dieing flesh right under his nose. The tunnels were nothing but a blur of red-brown stone, some wet with slime, others green with lime stone, only color and smell creating the only memories he would carry with him for the rest of his immortal life.

And that voice… The voice of his long dead wife…

He knew he was miles away from the town and the catacombs far behind, just as much as the town was ahead of him. His mind urged his body forward when all’s his body wanted to do, was lie down and rest. Lie down and heal from twenty-four hours of torture, every hour.

His mind blanks out, the next thing he realizes is that his body is lying on the ground, his wounds stinging from the dirt seeping into the open skin.

An image of the cave, its colors, smells, sounds flooding his mind. Then the occupants that came next. The five vampires that tired to sedate him, and then there was that cultured voice, that tall, slim, very pale, curly black haired vampire… There had been six vampires in that cave… One got away…

Black’s mind goes into a pitch dark void, and he’s seat adrift.

His immortal body lay motionless on the woods floor as the sun starts to rise over the horizon in the east, and bad news comes to those who can’t wait…

Chapter Ten
Buffy’s House

A sharp breath was taken in through his lips as he shot up on the couch. If his heart actually beat, he would be having a heart attack right now. It just wasn’t fair; the girl was too quiet. “Bloody hell!” He says as he releases the breath he had drug into his dead lungs.

“Hi,” the chipper voice says next to him.

“‘Ello,” he says as he looks at her, his Buffy. He gives her a small smirk and then slumps back into the couch. He notices the light coming from around the edges of the curtain and frowns. “Buffy?”

“Yes?” She says. Was she bouncing?

“What time is it?” he asks as he continues to stare at the light coming from around the curtain. Why was there bloody sunlight coming from about the edges of the curtain?

“Its two,” she says, and then adds quickly before he can say more. “I waited as long as I could,” she says, sounding for all the world like a little girl on Christmas morning that couldn’t wait any longer to wake up her parents.

“Couldn’t wait any longer for what love?” He asks as he looks up her. Her hair was different, longer, lighter, - different hair style all together.

“To wake you up,” she says as she looks down at him.

He has to smile at that. He was surprised again. He had never been surprised so much in a twenty-four hour period. She had never acted this way around him. She seemed happy that he was around, that she wanted him awake while she was there.

She smiles as she looks at him. Was ridiculous to be this happy? Maybe. But she didn’t care. He was here, in her house, and smiling back at her. She couldn’t believe that only a few months before…

“Where are you going?” She asks as she reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Just sittin’ up, no worries love. Can’t leave even if I wanted ta.” He points at the ceiling, “The sun.” He says simple.

A ding sounds from the kitchen, and Buffy gets up and starts to move forward. She is only a few steps away before she turns back and says, “Be right back,” and then disappears into the foyer, heading for the kitchen.

Spike’s scared eyebrow rises at her… odd? …behavior as he watches her disappear. She had been like that last night as well, and he wondered if she knew she had been acting like that around Dawn. If she didn’t, he wasn’t going to tell her.

On the other hand, did she know?

Although, the more he thought about it, Dawn had seemed oblivious to the fact that her big sis was treating him like a long lost…

No, he didn’t want to put any disclaimer or claimer to that one. Could be to explosive if he read too much into any of her gestures.

However, it seemed that she had gone through changes during his absences, and seemed to be happy with who she is. She didn’t second guess her actions toward him; she just let things go as they may. As for instance… Last night, he had made a comment that normally would’ve set her off like no mans business and he would’ve have slept where he lay right that moment.

With the sudden changes, he felt a little disoriented being around her again. All of this seemed surreal, and for the un-life of him, he couldn’t make himself feel otherwise.

Especially when…

“Here you go,” she says as she comes back into the living room and sits down right next to him.

Sit any closer and she would be in me lap, he thinks. A smile spreads across his lips.

She hands him the mug…

* * *

As Buffy went into the kitchen, she tired to calm her heart. She felt weird all of the sudden. She hadn’t felt this way around the opposite sex since… Angel. She wasn’t sure how she wanted to handle things with Spike. He still seemed to be the same vampire, but something was different about him.

He wasn’t as filled with anger as he had been before he left. And anger really wasn’t the word for it either. It had been restlessness, and she hadn’t meant to add to that. Now, she didn’t want to make him feel that way, because she didn’t want him to leave again.

Shaking her head, she moves over to the microwave and pulls out the mug filled to the brim with blood.

Instead of going directly back into the living room, she sets the cup on the island and takes a deep breath to calm herself. She didn’t want to screw things up again, not when she has a second chance at this.

She had realized after Spike had left, that things could have really been different if she had let them be, to just let things happen as they would, but at the time, she had hated herself and the world around her. Spike had been there, understanding, and accepting of her treatment of him. Until too late that is.

She had hated herself even more after he had left. It was strange though, in the fact that she hadn’t hated him for leaving. Actually, she had been glad that he had left; she had wished that she could leave as well. She hadn’t wanted to deal with all of the stuff that was happening after she was brought back.

Taking another deep, she realizes right than what she could have had, what she could have lost, and that she was a lot happier with the way things have turned out now.

Things could have gone far worse than they had if Spike had stayed after their first night together…

Shaking her head again, she didn’t want to think about the outcome if he had, she picks up the mug and starts out to the living room.

Just like after the morning in the grave with Dawn, getting out in time to see the town light up by the rising sun, it was a new beginning. Just like she decided than, she decided now to let things happen as they might, to go with the flow, so to speak.

She didn’t want this part of the year to be filled with regrets as last the part year was.

Her decision was made just as she sat down next to Spike, “Here you go,” she says.

I wonder what he would say if I sat on his lap, she thought as her and his thigh were pressed together as she hands him the mug full of blood.

“Thanks love,” he says as he brings the cup to his mouth. He frowns as something suddenly occurs to him. “You didn’t have this here waiting for me, did you?” He asks as his scared eyebrows raises as he looks at her.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I went out to get, thinking that you would probably be hungry when you woke up.”

“Thanks pet,” he smirks as he brings the mug back up to his lips, and in three swallows has the mug drained of its contents.

Since the first time he had returned, an awkward silence fills the room and they look away from each other.

Chapter Eleven

A roar echoes through the tunnels of the barren catacombs, it was one filled with barely suppressed rage. Minions scattered out of the way, as a flaming torch, thrown across the wide expanse, was lodged into the hard rock, directly where they had stood moments before.

The cave, one of many of the outlets off of the tunnels, was in shambles. The once clean cave was trashed. There had been at one time a throne sat against the far wall from the entrance of the cave, now sat a burning pile of bras and velvet fabric in its place.

To the right had been a table sat with candles and goblets of fresh humans blood, now the rotten smell of charred blood wafted from the burning wood pile that once had been the long table.

To the left had been the Masters pet, a werewolf that had been brainwashed so that when it was in human form that it still acted as if it were a dog, was now a half skinned beast that now even the minions could stomach to go near. The beast had been half way between changing from ‘wolf form to human when the Master had attacked it, tearing it to shards.

None of the minions knew what to do, and the only vampire that the Master seemed to respect in some form, was gone. None of lesser vampires had been able to find the vampire in question. They just hoped that the Master wouldn’t…

The Master was now standing in the middle of the cave, not even a ragged breath escaping his parted lips, his fangs showing. “Where is Cornelius?” He growls.

The minions shrink back as they feared what the consequences the answer to that question would be. Not one of the minions wanted to answer that question.

"Where?” The Master roars.

"We can’t find him…” One of the minions braves.

Everyone of the minions flinch as a roar, so loud, so enraged, that even the bravest of the minions shrank back away from the Master. He was… different.

The minions didn’t see the next action until two of the nine minions were dead.

One cowered in the corner, thinking, at lest he hasn’t seen me yet… Before the thought was even completed, the young minion was dust, gone…

* * *

A Few Days Later
Black’s Hotel Room

Blackness of the still room was disturbed as the hotel’s room door was opened for the first time a little less than a week. The intruder was silent in his movements, even as his feet touch the floor as he moves into the room. The only notable sound as he comes into the room is the soft click of the door as it is pushed closed behind him.

The tall man moves through the room, stalking over to the pile of papers on the small coffee table in the make shift living room. Not disturbing them, he moves further into the room, over to the makeshift bedroom. He looks down at the small bag.

Looking over to the kitchen area, he sees only one dish in the sink. Even from his position in the room, he could tell that the plate had been there for awhile before he had arrived. That’s unusual, he thinks.

He moves back over to the makeshift living room and sits down on the couch. He glances at the papers on the coffee table. They looked appealing but they weren’t what he was looking for. Black wouldn’t leave them laying about just anywhere. No, they would be…

The tall, young looking man looks about the place with a slight frown marring his usually smooth brow.

His eyes light up and he reaches under the cushion next to him and pulls out the file he was looking for. “Of course,” comes his lightly accented voice, “In the most obvious place.”

Still intrigued about the papers on the table, he looks down at them with a curious eye. Shuffling through them, they were as he had suspected. Nothing of any real surprise, everything that was obvious to the causal observer was laid out for people to see if they came in, or if they were looking for it themselves.

Turning his attention back to the file in his hand, he quickly scans through the papers and came to understand why Black had taken so long with this case.

The girl was a slayer, and a very special one for that matter. Had died twice and came back both times. The fact that she had friends and vampires, as lovers did nothing to surprise him.

However, he still hadn’t found what he had come looking for.

The man sat on the couch for a long while.

His hair was black, cut short, close to his head. It made his job a whole lot easier for him in the long run. His skin was the color of cream-coffee that set off his sky-blue eyes. The color of his eyes is so bright that at times, they almost seemed to glow.

Pulling his lean, lanky body out of the couch, the young man stands and moves over to the bed. He looks down at the bag. Bending over, he picks the bag up and unzips it.

Not setting the bag on the bed, he riffles through the contents of the bag, not liking what he’s finding… or more to the point, of how much he was finding in the bag.

Black was very precise about the way he worked when he was on a job. Depending on how long the job would take, Black would take just enough clothes for that amount of time. Of course, a head of time, he would know how long that would, and then he would wash his clothes once a week if the stay were going to be longer than a week.

Black would know that this job would require longer than a week. He had told him just as much before he had left for this shit hole of a town. Whenever he went on a job, Black would call him every day. It had become a ritual of sorts.

Letting the bag drop from his hands, the tall man leans over the bed, and lays his hand on the sheets, feeling. His slender fingers slid over the material and glide up over the pillow, and briefly stay there.

A frown comes to his brow, and his jaw tenses notably as he takes in what his senses tell him. The bed had not been slept in for about four days, maybe more, but it was hard to tell. Too many people had slept in the bed before now.

Remembering the dish in the kitchen, the tall man moves over to the sink and picks up the dish. He holds it just under his nose and takes in a deep breath. Four days, the food had been on the plate for four days.

Setting the plate back in the sink, he cleans up any trace that he had been there, the only person that would know that he had been there would be Black, and that was just fine with him. He wanted Black to know.

Chapter Twelve
The Woods

Black drifts between unconsciousness and wakefulness. Images of his long life flashing through his mind with a passiveness like that of another person watching his memories going through their mind.

His mind slows as thoughts of his wife flitter into this mind, calming him, and his aching body, making every thing cool. His Lei Golden-Black. He had remembered that when they had first planned on getting married and she had wanted to keep her last name as well as take his, they had laughed for half hour about the odd pairing of Golden-Black as a name.

He had loved her more than he had loved any one in his four hundred years, not even, he couldn’t even remember her name, let alone her face.

Buffy. He was glad that he hadn’t gotten the chance to kill her. And in his fog addled mind, he couldn’t really latch onto the reason why, but the feeling was there nonetheless.

Buffy was one of the best slayers he had every know and he had even known of Piper, and her love for Alex. The thought of them had a smile forming in his minds eye. As his clouded mind worked, he vaguely wonders why the thought of Buffy would bring up images of Piper and her English lover.

One of his last thoughts was of his only son… well the only one that he knew of.

The boy had grown quiet a lot since he had moved in with his grandparents. Although, with being immortal, there wasn’t a lot of job options left open for him. So, instead of being a hit man like his father and his father before him, the boy had found that he was very good at sweeping stuff for people.

Soon, the boy would have more money than him, and it had taken him over four hundred years to accumulate his wealth.

Dennis Black. The boy’s mom had named him good. Portia was a lovely woman, and had given their son her beautiful cream-coffee skin and skin-blue eyes. The only thing the boy really had in common with his father in looks was the black hair, body type, and immortality.

Portia. She would probably come in second in his heart where Lei was concerned and if anything, he really wasn’t in love with Portia. It had been the idea of her being his that he had been in love with, and at the time… Well, that option just wasn’t open to him.

All of the images are swept from his mind as the air exhales from his body. Only one remains, and that is of his dead wife, Lei Golden-Black, her long golden-brown hair draped over one shoulder, the way she liked to wear it.

Her faded, swayed tan cowboy hat sat on top of her head, her two hair wraps hanging over the other shoulder. Her form, fitted flannel, and tight jeans being the only things that covered her small body. He knew that those were the only things that covered her body.

The image in Black’s mind eye stares to fade, his body starts to grow cold, and his eye balls stop moving under their lids.

His heart slows to resounding thumb in his chest.

The image of Lei fades to only a portrait of her showing in his mind.

His heart thumbs once… twice… and his body stills, his heart giving up on the small amount of blood left his body.

As the last images of Lei leave his mind, the void consuming him, Lei’s eyes disappear of his mind eye.

Everett Black dies in the woods of Sunnydale from the loss of blood as the wounds on his chest start to heal…

The moon shines brightly over head as the last of the sun’s rays fade from the sky, the night becomes quiet, and the woods of Sunnydale quiet, even for a town on the Hellmouth. The owls didn’t come out that night, nor did any field mice or any other night creature.

The woods of Sunnydale were being haunted by something far more deadly than anything these creatures wanted to mess with. This was new.

* * *

In Another
Part Of the Woods

A bush moves next to a tree in an unmarked part of the woods. The air was different here, musky… thick almost. The place surrounding the bush was decidedly dark in some way, like death was taking the place of night in that area.

For miles away, no sound could be heard, for the animal that made sound feared the creature that might answer back.

A gurgling nose sounds from within the bushes at the base of the tree, like that of someone choking on a fluid. The bush is suddenly trashed about from within, the area being too dark for anything to be seen

Flocks of birds suddenly burst from the leaves of the trees as a mutated human scream roars from the bushes. It was a stronger replica of the one outside of the Bronze only a week before.

The woods fall deadly silent.

Chapter Thirteen
Those Few Days (refer to chapter 11)
With Buffy and Spike

Day 1

Spike had forgotten all about Black, and telling Buffy what he knew about him. His world had turned upside down in a matter of days… in a twenty-four hour period his world centered down around Buffy and Dawn in just those few hours. He felt like he was in a whirl wind, being turned around every second he almost figured things out, everything shifted on him again.

It felt like he had been there all of this time. In just the short time he had been back, Buffy had told him all that had happened while he had been gone, although, he hasn’t told her anything of his adventures while he was away. He didn’t feel right about it yet.

He wasn’t sure if it was a dream, and Buffy was going to start playing those weird games again or what. He was on unfamiliar grounds.

Although, he was still surprised (every time) he saw his gift around her neck. It gave him a strange, but strong feeling where the beating of his heart used to pound from. It made him feel giddy and that was just bloody ridiculous for a vampire to feel giddy.

One, there was no rushing blood to his brain to make him feel giddy in the first place, and second, what vampire in his right melon would feel giddy in the second?

“Now you’re just being redundant, mate!” Spike muttered to himself as he walks down Revello Drive towards Buffy’s house.

After the sun sat yesterday, he had had the bugger of a time leaving, not to mention getting out of the Summers’ house. Neither Buffy nor Dawn seemed to keen on him leaving; especially Buffy.

In actuality, he had a real time of it trying to get past them to the door. They had tackled each other to the floor a couple of times. On three had been tickled thoroughly by the time they had been strewn about the place, not being able to move from exhaustion.

A smile spreads over his lips as he dips his head, and takes a drag off of his cigarette.

Spike looks up as he stops in front of the Summers’ home, his feet had carried him there while he had been lost in thought the whole way there. It reminded him of the that movie with that Aussie dude in it… What’s that called? Oh yeah, A Knight’s Tale. Pretty good pic as far those go, he thought as he started up the walk.

Up on the porch, Spike throws his cigarette down and stomps it out as he waits for Buffy. As he waits, he hears her coming up the basement stairs at the back of the house, muttering under her breath, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

He raises his hand and knocks again, just a little bit harder and more persistent than before.

He chuckles as he hears a muttered, “Damn,” and then louder for the person to hear he guessed, she says, “I’m coming, just a second.”

He knocks again, even harder, and then the door is pulled away from his banging fist.

“I said just a…”Buffy stops when she sees a grinning Spike standing in front of her. “You’re a pig.” She says with no force behind her words, not to mention the fact that there’s a smirk at the corners of her mouth.

Spike’s smile turns into a full on smile as she walks through the space she creates as she steps aside. “That tones getting a little old, don’t you think love?”

As they banter, Spike follows back into the house to the kitchen where he stops when she turns to him.

“The only thing that’s getting old, is you,” Buffy says, a wide grin spreading her glossy lips.

Spike puts his hands over his heart as if he were wounded and clutches the spot, “That hurts pet.”

Buffy just smirks and just nods her head as she starts down the basement stairs, knowing he would follow her. “Please tell me you have a better reason for being here than just to annoy me?”

Spike chuckles, and then says, “Now, love, you should know that that’s me mission in life? If I don’t annoy, than what else am I going to do?”

She turns at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at him as he steps down onto the step above her. “You could try going away? You know, leaving and not coming back?” Then turns and walks further into the basement to a messy area near the rear of the cellar.

“Now, we both know you’d enjoy that way too much,” Spike says, still in a playful manner.

“Yeah,” Buffy says, not looking at him, than sighs. Her eyes were trained on the stacks of boxes, and other odds and ends. Spike looks over her a little wary of what his words might have caused now. A bloke’s luck can’t last forever… can it?

He was still waiting for the proverbial ‘other shoe’ to drop. He trying not to hold his nonexistent breath that what was taking place between them was real not some coma, self-induced bliss session. Buffy seemed to want him around, and she even seemed to like it that he and the bit got a long so well…

Speaking of… “Where’s bit?” Spike asks, not liking the awkward silence his last comment created between them.

Buffy waves her hand in the air, almost dismissively. “I started talking about the basement and it needing to be cleaned and suddenly,” she says as if she really believes it (can you hear the sarcastic tone yet?), “She has a study date. …Fine, whatever.” She looks up and smiles at him.

He returns the smile and looks away to the mile high pile of things and then back at her. “I’ll give ya boost,” he offers.

“Spike, speak English!” She demands with a laugh to her voice.

“Ha, bloody, ha Slayer.” Spike says. “Come on, pet, let get cracking.”

* * *

I hate it when he calls me slayer, Buffy thinks as she works on her pile. “Hey Spike?” She asks as nonchalant as she can manage.

“Yeah pet?” Spike says.

“Why do you call me Slayer? I mean, seriously, I do have a name.” She says thinking; Nonchalant just isn’t working for me.

Silence greets her from his side of the basement. She turns and looks at him. He had a far off look in his eyes, like he was trying to come up with the right answer, or he hadn’t heard her. Just as she was about to ask again, he starts to answer.

“It’s who ya are. It’s a lot better than that name of yours. It’s your title… in a way, its an honor.” He pauses, taking an unneeded breath. She had noticed that he does that a lot. “Maybe its just to annoy you,” he smirks as he looks up at her.

In the next second, a wadded up pair of socks hit him in the forehead.

“Didn’t like my answer pet?” Spike needles.

“Don’t you ever give up?”

His smile turns wicked. “No.”

* * *

“Hey pet?” Spike asks as he pushes a box up onto the top of a high shelf.

“Yeah?” Buffy says from the floor behind him, tapping up a box.

“What happened to Glenda?”

“Glenda?” She says, then, “Oh Tara? Didn’t I tell you?” She says with her nose scrunching up between her brows.

“I remember you rambling on but I really couldn’t make heads nor tails of it.” Spike says as he puts another box away on the shelf on the back wall of the basement.

“It was getting really bad between the Nerd Trio and me… Well, Warren comes over here waving at gun at me. Then as he’s running away, he shots the gun twice. One hits me in the chest and the other kills Tara after going through the bedroom window.” Buffy says, her hands pausing over the box. “You know, after Willow got the bullet out of me, when I was trying to stop, she said she could just as easily undo it.

She looks up at him. “Can you believe that?”

“Grief can do terrible things to people, make do horrible things.” Spike says, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah,” she says looking back at the box under her hands. “We probably be here if it weren’t for Xander.”

Spike watches her as she picks up the box and tries to put it on the top shelf, but her lack of height hinders her ability. “Still can’t get over that one,” Spike says distractedly as he watches her stretch to try to reach the top shelf without success.

Spike steps up behind her, raising his hand, he pushes the box up onto the shelf.

They both freeze as Spike’s chest brushes up against her back. Spike wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn electricity just surged through him. He gulps silently as he feels Buffy lean back just the slightest. Involuntarily, he inhales sharply.

He feels his body go ridged as he feels and sees Buffy turning toward him. Spike automatically prepares himself for a fist to the nose. Shock courses through him as he hears Buffy’s breathless words, “Thank you.”

He looks down at her, his hand still up on the top shelf, almost forcing him to lean into her. Who’re you joking mate? Her hazel eyes shone up at him.

His eyes shift to her lips, and licks his own unconsciously. His golden goddess… He could feel himself being pulled toward her again…

Spike steps away suddenly. “I’m sorry about Glenda.”

“Thanks,” Buffy says quietly. After a few seconds, she asks, “You want to patrol?”

“Sure,” Spike says with a jerk of his head and claps his hands.

They both head for the stairs.

* * *

Buffy walked silently beside Spike, not really sure of what to say. He seemed to be uncomfortable around her, now. Why didn’t he kiss me? She asks herself. Like you have ever really encouraged that? She pauses in her train of thought and then concedes to that… logical voice. She really hated that voice she thought with no real bitterness.

Maybe more encouragement is needed? She thinks ironically. When has Spike ever needed more encouragement? If anything, he needed dis-encouragement. …IS that even a word? Buffy thinks within a matter of seconds. Ok, getting of the track here, girl. Well, for one, want more… Spike!

She hears him sigh, and an earlier wondering though is jogged. “Hey Spike? Why do you breath when you don’t need to?”

“What kind of question is that?” Spike asks, sounding incredulous.

“Its of the curious type. Just answer the question,” she demands.

“Ok! Habit.” He says simply.