Author: Narcoleptic73 (narcoleptic73@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG16 - some swearing
Couple: Willow / Spike (eventually)
Disclaimer: Joss owns all, of course (Joss = God). I own nothing. The characters are not mine, and so on and so forth
Feedback: In this case I'm not even gonna continue unless I get some - drop me a line, let me know how you think this one could pan out. I have some vague ideas concerning, but frankly I'm a little stuck.....HELP!
Summray: Having finally gotten rid of his chip, Spike had to leave Sunnydale. Just when he was starting to think that phase of his unlife was over, one of the old crew tracks him down - there's trouble at the old homestead.
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~Prologue~
WHAT HE DOES BEST
Most people and even some vampires would confidently tag sunlight as the bane of a vampire's unlife. Closely followed by a Slayer of course, but luckily for the undead population there was generally only ever one slayer per generation. There was, however, a sunrise every bloody morning.
Spike wasn't most vampires, though, and he knew better. The biggest problem facing a vampire was boredom. Boredom could drive you batshit, boredom could tempt you into making rash decisions, boredom could cause you to take unwise actions.
Spike was bored.
Which was probably why he found himself back in the Slayer's sandpit again so to speak despite knowing full well what a less than wise place that was to be. Especially now the chip was gone. Spike had made a rash decision. Spike was taking unwise actions.
But he was so BORED.
Not surprisingly for a vampire like Spike, his thoughts quickly jumped track completely. In fact if Spike had been a human he would have easily been diagnosed as suffering ADD. As it was his hyperactivity almost got him killed on more than one occasion in the past and usually by Angelus - who could barely contain his wrath at Spike's unrelenting and risky antics.
Taking a deep drag on his cigarette he leant casually against the lamp post of the library parking lot trying his best to look unthreatening - that was a difficult thing to do especially when he had spent 129 odd years looking exactly the opposite - still if he wanted to eat tonight it would be best not to scare the happy meals away before he could even take a bite.
Humans were idiots. In their blissful ignorance they had long ago learned to ignore their instincts. This was a mistake no vampire ever made, or any other creature for that matter. No, it seemed to be a foible particular to humans and Spike supposed it was a testament to their supreme arrogance and of course their ignorance. Still - all the better for predators like he.
According to his no good grandsire vampires could generally thank the industrial revolution for humankind's distrust of their own survival instincts - and it made sense. Telephones, newspapers, and now computers had effectively lessened their reliance upon instinct to flag possible danger.
Where once Spike may have had no luck in setting a potential meal at ease before he struck, it now generally took no more than a cheeky grin and a cheery hello to break through a humans' psychological defenses and innate survival instinct. He had Angelus to thank for that too. Bastard could charm the Angels from Heaven if he set his mind to it and Spike had learned his lessons well. Fortunately Spike's almost freakish understanding of the human condition rivaled that of his Grandsire's which meant the only factor preventing him from achieving the dizzying heights of predatory success Angelus was infamous for - was his impatience.
Wasn't gonna have to worry about that tonight though because the idiot humans were happily ignoring their primitive and trusty internal alarm systems and were milling about in large numbers oblivious to the monster stalking the parking lot.
With practiced ease Spike's gaze narrowed on his target and he smiled slowly. "Perfect."
He shed his long jacket draping it over one arm and smoothed his silk shirt absently before plastering his most non threatening smile on his face and walking casually towards the darkest and most remote corner of the parking lot where a young woman pushing a stroller was looking a little frantically in her purse for her car keys - with Spike's superhuman eyesight - he could see they were locked in the car. "Stupid bint"
Careful not to walk too closely to the woman but to remain within hailing distance, Spike dropped his icy gaze to the newspaper he held in his hands, pretending to be preoccupied with reading.
Five, four, three, two "Excuse me, Sir?"
Bingo.
Raising his head in affected surprise he placed on pale hand over his unbeating heart momentarily "Oh! You startled me. Sorry" And the academy award goes to...
She smiled a little in a mixture of apology and embarrassment. Just as he knew she would. "I, uh, seem to have locked the keys in my car and my phone isn't working.."
Spike nodded in sympathetic understanding "Right, well why don't I have a quick look and see if I can't help?"
She was smiling again now and he could see the tension leave her body completely. The kid was a different proposition all together. Children are far more primal than their carers. They have yet to be influenced by the man made tools in their environment - instincts still reign supreme.
Kid started yelling the minute he stepped towards them. Of course if the woman had any sense she would have taken a minute to absorb the terror in the child's crying instead of yammering about not wanting to get home late to John. If she had, she wouldn't by lying dead against the side of the car and neither would the kid, who Spike thought had made a particularly tasty after dinner desert.
"Still bored." He sighed dramatically leisurely licking the quickly drying blood from his long fingers.
At that moment the gentle Californian breeze shifted slightly and delivered to his demon senses a familiar scent. He snapped his head up, game face in place, and narrowed his eyes on a small group of trees not more than 15 feet from where he stood. She was well hidden, but now that he knew she was there he could see her crouching quietly, eyes squeezed shut tightly and little hands gripped tightly together under her trembling chin. She probably thought she would be next on the menu.
Realizing that she had probably seen everything, Spike felt a brief moment of .. regret. Not for the killing of the woman and her child, but for the fact that the girl behind the tree had seen it. He remembered now why he had left Sunnydale in the first place. She didn't need to see him like this and he shuddered to imagine the disappointment he would see reflected in Red's eyes if she was to stumble across this little blood bath.
This would never work out. Since the chip was now gone, he was William the Bloody in every sense of the word - he couldn't hope to exist in the Slayer's town and be allowed to carry on culling the local human population 24/7 without meeting the business end of a stake. He LIKED to kill, it was what he did best...and if he wanted to continue in his chosen 'career' (and he most certainly bloody well did!) then he was gonna have to wake up to himself and leave for good this time - no matter how much he missed his Red....
"Come here, Bite Size. I'll see you home"
~Part 1~
WOULD THE REAL SPIKE PLEASE STAND UP?
Spike rolled his eyes in frustration and shot a disapproving glare at the vampire's back as he followed him down a gloomy corridor. Whelp was not much more than a fledgling and he was already imagining himself Spike's equal.
He kicked himself for the hundredth time that day struggling to remember exactly why it was he had felt the need to come to this fucking hole of a town. Should have stayed in LA and taken another shot or two at the Poof - just for laughs.
Instead Spike found himself barely tolerating the smug little prick strutting along before him only mildly interested in his claims of having set up a successful farming venture based on the model the Master had once toyed with in Sunnyhell before abandoning the idea to focus his energies on obliterating Buffy. Not that that had done old Great Granddaddy any good.
The whelp turned and caught Spike grinning at the old memories his musings had stirred and the stupid little git mistook it for excited anticipation and puffed up. The Master vampire had to restrain himself from throttling the arrogant little bastard but thought better of if for the time being. He was mostly tired from having endured the entire day of this particular vampire pack as their 'special guest' and now he just wanted to get this tour of 'the farm' out of the way with a few non committal grunts of half assed approval, feed, fuck, then sleep. In that order.
With a ridiculous flourish the whelp (whose name Spike just didn't have the inclination to remember) opened a heavy steel door onto a somewhat familiar scene. Humans, 40 or so, held in a large cell just ready for eating.
Spike was an old vampire and he'd seen all this before on both large and smaller scales. Hell he'd even seen one set up in Germany back in the early 1900's where the vamps had managed to keep a bunch of females in the family way specifically for the babies. They were a delicacy. But the time and effort for that particular investment eventually proved too much and they ended up draining em all in one go during a night of debauched solstice celebrations.
Spike could have told this little turd that it had all been done before, the buffet thing, and that he didn't have the imagination to make the farming worthwhile in the long term, or the ingenuity to keep the little venture from the notice of those who would put a stop to it. Slayers, demon hunters, military - fuck, even Paingel himself if it all came down to it. But he kept quiet because he just couldn't seem to care either way.
As he ran his disinterested gaze across the human cattle he noticed a group of teenage girls huddled together and he was unwillingly reminded of the Niblett who he had left behind in Sunnydale in the care of the Witches 3 years ago.
Spike curled his lip a little in anger at the thought of someone snacking on the Niblett. Personal associations aside, he had a philosophical aversion to 'farming.' Vampires were demons for fuck's sake. Top of the food chain, baby. In Spike's considered opinion the hunt was an integral part of being a vampire, keeping the demon cunning, sharp and always on the edge, exactly where you needed to be if you wanted to stay top of the pops.
Maybe he'd give old Ripper a buzz tomorrow and clue him in on this place.
The unmistakable sound of a window smashing and panicked and angry shouting from the floor above them pulled Spike form his revere. Raising one eyebrow in his trademark way he spoke "Expecting visitors, mate?"
His illustrious host answered with a feral snarl before slipping into game face and charging out of the room and up the stairs.
"Captain Fang to the rescue" Spike sang to himself ignoring what he now knew to be the battle raging upstairs. Could be a rival pack, or maybe a couple of whitehats. He didn't know, he didn't care.
Lighting a cigarette Spike again found himself considering the motley and miserable group of humans staring with wide and frightened eyes at him from the other side of the bars.
Inhaling deeply for a moment he frowned angrily. Was a time when he would have taken the opportunity to help himself and eat six or seven people without so much as a how do you do - despite his dislike for farming. Now though, he couldn't eat this one because she had eyes like Niblett's, couldn't eat that one cause her hair was the same shade as Willows, WOULDN'T eat that one because he reminded him of Chubs.
"Getting as bad as Peaches" he growled to himself before flicking his half finished cigarette away and tearing the door to the cage off it's hinges in one fluid movement.
Sneering at the humans in disgust, he shouted "Well don't just fucking stand there like a bunch of bloody deer caught in the headlights - RUN!"
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She was careful to stay down wind remembering that was pretty important if you didn't want the vampire to know you were following. And she didn't - not just yet. Even if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes all those years ago, the stories had found their way back to them all and she was now well aware the chip was gone and the Big Bad was back.
She shivered against a sudden gust of wind and shot behind a nearby tree when her target paused on the path ahead of her. She relaxed slightly when she realized he had simply stopped to light a cigarette.
Her relief was short-lived however.
"I can smell you, woman. Why not save us both some time and energy and show yerself?"
As far as stealth went this particular human had been doing a pretty good job of shadowing him, which led him to surmise this one had some form as far as his kind were concerned. Still, he had been aware of her presence since the moment he'd slipped out of the lair after freeing the captive humans 3 hours earlier.
Despite his human pursuer, he was relaxed, and mildly curious. After leaving the two warring packs of vamps to kill each other off he was confident of avoiding any unpleasantries with the undead and it was obvious the human was not a Slayer. She knew what he was though so he had to wonder if she had some kind of death wish or something.
Taking a deep breath she stepped quietly from the shadow of the tree and onto the path behind him. She was going to have to confront him anyway, and in reality, the sooner the better.
"Hey, Spike."
Spike stiffened momentarily before turning slowly to face his pursuer. "Niblett!"
Dawn grinned shyly for a moment, still more child than woman despite her 23 years, before throwing her earlier caution to the wind and launching herself at her old friend.
To say that Spike was surprised would have been a gross understatement and it wasn't until the kid had literally knocked him on his ass and he had her familiar form firmly in his embrace that he actually believed it was Dawn.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to simply enjoy the feel of her in his arms once more, burying his head in her hair and inhaling deeply he squeezed her tightly against his chest, feeling the old ache kick in as a familiar scent surrounded him - it was Buffy, Willow, and Sunnydale - it was ...home.
His eyes snapped open again as his instinctive warning system told him another of his kind was near. "C'mon lil bit, lets get you indoors, then you can tell me what the fuck you think you're doing out alone at night in Washington!"
~Part 2~
A LITTLE OLDER - A LITTLE WISER
Humans had a saying and it went something like; 'there are only two things you can rely on - death and taxes.'
That wasn't the case for vampires, but they had their own truths. The two things they could always rely on were loss and change.
The Niblett had changed so much; she was a young woman now. To him it seemed like only yesterday he had been pulling her pigtails and teasing her about boys - one day soon he would find himself standing by her grave thinking about how it had only seemed like yesterday..Loss. Another reason to stay away. These kids were all on a time limit. They had expiry dates. Red included - and he'd already lost enough in his long unlife - Angelus, Dru..
It was her tentative voice that finally pulled him from his morbid musings - and he was glad. For a minute there he had a suspicion he may have resembled Peaches, all broody and miserable. YUK.
"Did you ever look in on us?"
Spike didn't tell lies, and he wasn't going to start now. "No."
Dawn's shoulders slumped and she slid a little further into Spike's sofa. It smelled like him, cigarettes, sweet bourbon and a little dash of death. It was comforting and it reminded her of nights spent sleeping under his watchful eye feeling safe even from the Hell God who wanted her dead. "Why not?"
He didn't miss the hurt quaver in her voice despite her brave attempts to cover it up. He smiled softly and it felt strangely alien on his face, it had been years since he'd last felt the need to offer a human that kind of reassurance - it had been years since he'd seen her, seen Buffy, seen Willow. "Easier for all of us, luv. Me and the Slayer.." He left the sentence hang unfinished but was pleased to note that Dawn's eyes softened in understanding.
"You never came back for the funeral. I waited for you. Hoped you would."
Spike swallowed over a sudden lump in his throat and took one of her small warm hands in his. "Didn't feel proper, didn't want you kids thinking I was there to gloat. I knew you would be ok - you and the others, tough little buggers all of you - and you had Peaches to look out for you."
Tears sprang to her eyes and she snatched her hand from Spike's to swipe at them angrily. She didn't want to cry in front of him. He had always hated it when they cried, he said it was poofy. She hated disappointing him - and she hated that she cared whether she disappointed him or not. "Wasn't the same thing! I wanted YOU..we needed you, Spike."
And there it was, laid bare before them. There was a time not so long ago when he had yearned for that kind of admission - but he was wiser now, death had already tainted them, the Slayer was gone, the Watcher was not far behind from what he had heard, and the rest of them were moving closer to their own ends day after day. He didn't want anything to do with it. Couldn't bear it...Suddenly he was furious that she was forcing the issue on him after all this time.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He snarled, eyes flashing gold, elongated fangs glinting dangerously in the dim yellow light of the single overhead bulb. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
Dawn sucked in an unsteady breath drawing away from his angry face and pressing herself back against the cushions. She had almost forgotten that this Spike was fundamentally different from the one she had loved so dearly back in Sunnydale - this Spike was 'William the Bloody - killer', not Spike 'Slayers little Helper and honorary Scooby'.
"its W..Willow. She's in trouble."
~Part 3~
FIVE BY FIVE
Willow had known fear in her life. She WAS a Sunnydale girl after all. There had been times like when Buffy had died (all three of them), when she was captured by the Mayor, the whole Angelus incident, when Spike had kidnapped her for a love spell, and again when he had cornered her in her dorm room intent on draining her. Shaking her head a little to clear it she returned her focus the issue at hand, even thoughts of Spike were not going to be enough to distract her right now. She wasn't just afraid - she was downright terrified. This was so far beyond her realm of experience, she was floundering in a sea of the unknown, and she had absolutely no clue as to how to approach this latest big bad.
"If you would step this way Ms Rosenberg."
Willow's large green eyes settled on the guard escorting her down the echoey hallway past the seemingly endless iron bars. If she believed that it might actually help her current situation she would have patiently explained to her companion that this was all a terrible misunderstanding. She hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, the hours she had put in for the 'good guys' since the arrival of a blonde haired girl in Sunnydale when she was just fifteen should in reality qualify her for a sainthood - well maybe if she hadn't been Jewish - or a witch.
Eventually they drew to a halt outside one of the cells. "This is your stop, Red." The guard said in a most jovial tone, which had the effect of increasing Willow's sense of surrealism. She was pretty sure that if she gave herself a good hard pinch she would wake up and find herself in her comfy bed with Mr Gordo - Buffy's stuffed pig. "If there's anything you need don't bother asking, I couldn't give a rat's ass!" Giving her a dismissive once over the guard snickered and shook his crew cut head "I don't reckon you'll last the week, Red. Specially since your bunking with that psycho bitch!" He laughed and slid the iron door shut with resounding clang before spinning on his polished heel and striding down the hallway from the direction they had just come, whistling off tune and whacking his batton against each door as he went - just for the hell of it.
Willow stood motionless for a moment staring at the space the guard had just vacated in the insane hope that someone was playing some kind of cosmic practical joke and would swing the door open at any moment and yell "April Fool!"
But as the seconds began to melt into minutes she realized the chances of that happening were zero to none. She had been arrested, she had been charged in a court of law, she had been found guilty, she had been sent to jail, she was a guest of the state of California - for the next 10 to 15 years with good behavior.
"So, wanna fill me in on whatever weird ass scheme you've all concocted to get yourself locked in here with me?"
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Suddenly everything was moving in slow motion turning to face the owner of that hauntingly familiar voice she became aware of a deafening roar inside her head. A strange sense of disconnectedness overcame her and Willow realized she was about to faint.
"Hey, Red. Are you alright? What are ya doin?"
Anxious brown eyes hovered above her and beyond that a dirty gray ceiling hosting horizontal shadows suddenly reminded Willow of where she was and whom she was with.
"You ok?"
Willow blinked slowly once or twice and then blurted out the first thought that popped into her head "five by five."
For the barest moment green eyes and brown locked together both widened in surprise before the brunette quickly recovered throwing her head back and laughing.
"Dam Red, if you don't beat all" she gasped between giggles.
Absently rubbing at the quickly forming knot on the back of her head, Willow pulled herself into a sitting position against the wall. "Its really you isn't it?" she whispered awestruck as the other girl's giggles tapered off. "Faith."
The Slayer became silent and still for a moment and narrowed her eyes suspiciously on the other girl. "I'm not gonna play your games, Red. I've changed - Angel's been helping me and I'm doing good." She growled dangerously.
Willow suddenly remembered the last time they met and she shuddered at the thought. "G..Games? What are you talking about, Faith?"
Faith rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I know you think I'm stupid.but I won't let you provoke me into kicking your ass. I told ya - I'm done with all that. I'm paying for everything and when I get out I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make it right again. So leave me alone, Willow - you don't have to rub my nose in it."
Willow knew she was an intelligent girl. Her considerable intellect is exactly what had landed her here in the first place. But she was floundering in a sea of ignorance at the moment and they were unfamiliar waters. "Faith, I have no idea what you're talking about."
~Part 4~
HELL IN A HAND BASKET
Spike lifted his head from his hands to stare blearily at the girl sitting before him. Fuck he was tired. She was the only being he had ever met that had that effect on him - usually he was the one to cause others exhaustion.
"Jail, you say?"
A nod of the head, tremble of the lips. Yep there it is, the tears. Little shit, she knows I hate that, I'm not falling for it. "So why don't you just get the great Poffini on the blower. He'll have her sprung in a Jiff. He's got friends on the 'force' ya know."
Spike had to bite back a grin when she pinned him with the famous Summers Stare. She was a chip off the old Buffy block that was for sure.
"Angel's out of the country, Spike."
Spike's smile immediately froze on his face. There was no way in hell Peaches would leave his little 'family' for a jaunt abroad unless there was some serious shit about to hit the proverbial fan which necessitated it. "Why? How long?"
Although the intensity of his stare was causing her some major wiggins, Dawn was infinitely grateful that Spike had lost his trademark smirk and was taking her seriously. The conversation she needed to have with him now was a serious as a heart attack, as Xander was so fond of saying. Taking a deep breath and meeting his icy gaze with as much courage as she could muster she answered. "The Millennial Wars. He's been called to a battle council in London."
The only reaction he displayed was a very slight widening of his eyes and a slight flare of his nostrils. The casual observer may even have missed it altogether, but anyone who knew William would recognize this as his 'bloody fucking hell' expression. "The End of Days" he breathed reverently lifting a suddenly trembling hand to the Niblett's face. "Well bugger me."
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It probably wasn't such a bloody good idea to get hammered with Bite Size sleeping soundly on his sofa looking all warm and juicy, not to mention vulnerable. Just how he liked his meals. But she'd knocked him for a six and when he was at a loss that's what he did - drink. He might be a vampire now, but he'd been a Whitechapel boy first.
If the consequences of what she had told him hadn't been so dire, he would have been laughing his lilly white arse off.
It had all started thousands of years ago he supposed, but the real beginnings were only now unfolding.
Even the Tq'ah clan of brain munching demons who lived a totally isolated existence in the far northern reaches of the New Guinea highlands knew the moment the world had changed for good - the day the 'Other Worlders' landed, the day the Council of Watchers realized they had so seriously misinterpreted the scrolls of Aberjian. The demon threat it seemed, was merely a sideline, a nuisance they really shouldn't have been focused upon - the main game they discovered, was the 'Invasion'. Too late it had already begun.
Spike had lived a long unlife, but the changes in the human and demon communities he'd seen occur over the last 13 months had been greater than he had seen over the last 130 years combined.
A third player had arrived skewing the power dynamic probably forever more. He had to admit that when the OW's had first arrived he'd been only mildly curious. He mainly wondered if they'd taste good and what they'd be like in the sack. Predictable Spike train of thought.
He'd witnessed scores of hostile takeovers in his time, seen colonization in action. As an essentially pragmatic demon he'd seen the arrival of the OWs as the same kind of thing, the only difference being the fact the OW's were 'other' terrestrial - same principles applied - didn't concern him really. Long as his food supply was secure, he was a happy demon.
But if what the Niblett had told him about the watchers' fuck up with the scrolls was true, then his food supply was not only not secure, but also destined to be erased in totum.
Not of the good. (get out of my fuckin' head, Harris)
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Less than two years ago I would have been 'bagging and tagging' the scum I'm currently forced to 'negotiate' with. I was protecting humankind from these abominations, not forcibly incarcerating the innocents. How the mighty fall.
I guess I should have seen the signs around the time Riley went AWOL after the Adam incident. He understood right then and there that the objectives we all believed we were fighting for didn't match those who drew up the battle plans and decided our fates on a daily basis. But I'm starting to understand that it's way too late to opt out now. Looks like I'll be riding this fucked up train till the last stop.
I find myself thinking about Ri a lot these days. As I sit here on my way to the State Holding Facility I can't help but wonder what he'd make of all of this.
What would Riley think about a government who forced its own free citizens - those with 'essential skills' - into what amounted to enforced conscription? Would he share my steadily growing suspicion that the worlds' leaders had already begun to institute the very thing the Earth Alliance was supposed to be fighting the Ows to prevent - slavery.
I miss him everyday.
I'll never get the chance to sit down with my friend and discuss all this over a beer, because Riley was killed fighting the very demons I have just returned form 'negotiating' with. All those villagers Riley died saving have basically been left to the mercy of the monsters. Part of the 'negotiations'.
I'm a career military man. Like my Father and Grandfather before me. Never questioned my orders before. But I objected strenuously to that. I still feel sick at the response I got from my CO.
"It's all about math, son." He said "The loss of those villagers does not equal the overall benefits we achieve from - compromising." (I'm really starting to hate that fucking word) He'd grinned humorlessly then and continued on "you wanna make a cake ya gotta break a few eggs."
I know why I'll never make Sergeant - don't have that in me. The ability to equate the sacrifice of human life to the breaking of a few eggs..
So my best friend died for exactly nothing. Nothing!
"He died with honor, son!"
Is that supposed to make it ok?
I can't help feeling like I'm betraying Riley's memory every single time we make a deal with a Master Vamp to ensure they fight the Ows by our sides and not against us instead. I can't help feeling like I'm betraying Riley's memory every time I take a civilian off the street to 'fight' with the Earth Alliance without offering them a choice or the chance to say goodbye to their loved ones.
And it happens everyday now.
There was a time not too long ago when it had all been perfectly clear. The line between the good guys - humans - and the bad guys - demons and vampires - was a highly visible one.
But with each day and each 'alliance' we make with those demons I'm finding the line increasingly blurry and I can no longer see what it is that sets us apart, above, the demons. I'm on shifting ground now and to be perfectly honest I don't know where the hell I'm supposed to stand anymore.
To have your entire belief system wrenched from beneath you is bad, to lose your best friend in a wasted sacrifice is worse - to top all this off with my latest mission to retrieve two citizens from the State Holding Facility is not going to make it any easier - because I know one of these unwilling conscriptees personally. I know her, I know she is the last person I want to have to do this to.
Willow Rosenberg.
So I do the only thing I can do, I chant my new mantra and pray for forgiveness every night before turning in.
"The end justifies the means."
~Part 5~
LESSONS IN WAR
Cordelia Chase hated England. She could almost hear the cholesterol adhering to her left ventricle every time she sat down to eat, the miserable climate was sucking the life out of her carefully and meticulously acquired sun bronzed complexion, and the British had no sense of humor - at least not the British she had met - she had a vague memory of Spike enjoying a good laugh.
Sure the Millennial Wars had begun and humankind was facing the End of Days - but was that any reason to neglect your appearance? Certainly not! She thought, studying her pale legs critically. Ewww.
When her cell phone rang she was deliriously pleased and had to restrain herself from dancing with joy. Only her very much loved and very much-missed AI colleagues had the number. Boy was she gonna be glad to hear and American accent!
"Hello!"
"Need to speak to me Sire."
Her first impulse was to hang up on the homicidal maniac. He'd been causing nothing but trouble ever since his chipectomy, not to mention heartache. Oh not for her, she couldn't care if he took a long walk at high noon, but Angel...Angel had agonized over his favored Childe for years. And Willow - man he'd put her through the wringer.
Despite all of this Cordelia didn't hang up. She leapt to her feet instead to locate her brooding boss. Something serious had obviously happened. Spike had called Angel, 'Sire'
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"When were you planning on informing me?"
ten pairs of eyes dropped to study the tabletop guiltily. Ten pairs of hands fidgeted nervously with ties, hair, anything.
"Well!"
A large, dark, shadow detached itself from the wall and drifted silently towards the figure seated at the head of the table. "It will be taken care of, Rupert."
"That may well be, Angel, but it doesn't change the fact this most important information was deliberately withheld."
Angel inclined his head once in acknowledgement. The Council of Watchers was far too comfortable with keeping secrets - a practice that had ultimately achieved nothing. It was way past time for all this cloak and dagger bullshit. The old ways would need to be abandoned if they were to have any chance of defeating the Ows.
Studying their faces Angel could see no sign to indicate these Council members understood this. Always so convinced of their righteousness...Perhaps - he thought - If I spoke to them in a language they understand Giles won't have to repeat himself - They were all well versed in the history of Angelus and Angel could guaran fucking tee none of them would forget a single syllable uttered by his darker half.
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Losing Buffy for the final time almost killed me. I was so lost in my own grief that the mere act of breathing was just too much for me to bear.
I remember those dark weeks with barely repressed horror. Even now. The children turned to me again and again and I shunned them every time, locking myself away and losing myself in a never-ending bottle of whiskey.
I deserted the children - my children - at the very moment they needed me the most. To my very great shame.
I'd probably be dead now if it hadn't been for the vampire now snarling angrily from behind me. He had come to me in a rage, his anger so consuming it was not Buffy's soul mate and lover who broke down my front door, but the most feared of all vampires, the Scourge of Europe. Angelus.
My neglect of his mate's nearest and dearest was a crime so heinous that Angelus had broken free of his restraints to punish me accordingly.
To this day I am not sure exactly how far Angelus had planned to take my 'punishment' because Cordelia Chase showed up just as he discovered a pair of needle nosed pliers. I had never been more grateful to see her. To say I was surprised at the way she handled Angelus would be an understatement - needless to say I have a new and healthy respect for the former Sunnydale girl. Woman, actually.
Despite the stay in hospital I was forced to endure as a direct result of Angelus' visit, I remain in his debt for opening my eyes to the needs of my charges. I won't ever let them down again.
That is why the very notion that the Council had not told me of Willow's incarceration was doing potentially fatal things to my bloody pressure. I barely have the words to express my rage at the fact these bloody morons had turned Dawn's frantic telephone calls away and refused to appraise me of the situation or have me return her call. The poor child must have been terrified - and Willow! Such a transgression is unforgivable to me and I want to take Angel and the Scroll these wankers need so badly and return immediately to California.
So I'm going to sit here now, and I'm going to ignore their panic and pleading, their poor excuses and requests for forgiveness. If they won't respect my requirements regarding my family then I'm certainly not going to prevent Angelus from 'explaining' to them the error of their ways. He can be very convincing. I should know.
"I'll ask ye once - who is responsible for not informin' us about the children?"
Welcome back Angelus. How long will you be staying?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Faith was suspicious by her very nature. It was a character trait that had stood her in good stead over the years. A suspicious Slayer was a living Slayer - or so she firmly believed.
Consequently it took quite some time before she allowed herself to believe Willow Rosenberg's explanation for her sudden reappearance in her life. Besides, Red just wasn't the deceitful type and the story she had given Faith was so utterly fantastic (though not in a good way) that she knew it just had to be true.
It also explained certain things.
It explained why the maximum security section was suddenly so damn full, why the military had been making regular withdrawals of the 'guests' over the past ten or so months, why they had been in lockdown 24/7 with no access to the outside world. Most of all it explained why she hadn't seen anything of Angel.
Battle Council. End of Days. Fuck.
"Damn, Red. I gotta get outta here. I should be in Merry Olde fucking England helping Angel!" Faith cried in frustration, pacing back and forth across the confines of the cell reminding Willow of a giant, angry, feline.
"I so can't believe I'm about to say this to you, Faith, but - I totally agree."
Grinning at Willow wryly for a moment, Faith resumed her anxious pacing. "He shoulda got me outta here. Why hasn't he busted me outta here?"
Willow was unused to seeing this side of this particular Slayer. Rarely, if ever, did faith display uncertainty. It hit Willow then just how much Angel's opinion of her meant - and just how far she had gone in an effort to redeem herself in his eyes. Of course the fact Willow wasn't currently spitting out her own teeth was also a major clue as to Faith's new commitment to change.
"Listen, Faith. I don't know for certain, but I'm sure Angel's working on that right now. He'd be the first to admit that we need your help.since Buffy died we've all learned a lot about accepting help when its needed." Willow took a deep breath before continuing. What she was about to say was difficult for her, there were a lot of hard feeling between them both, old wounds that had not necessarily mended with the passage of time. But Willow knew how easy it was to fall victim to the darkness in your soul, she also knew how hard it was to fight your way back to the light. Anyone struggling to do that deserved forgiveness. All beings could be redeemed. Look at Angel..look at Spike. Well, the jury was still kind of out on Spike but hopefully....
"You've been missed Faith."
Faith blushed and shifted uncomfortably under the green gaze of Willow Rosenberg. She had trouble believing anything nice anyone said to her and often retreated behind a veil of sarcasm to deal with the emotions compliments often stirred in her. But Faith didn't have to question Willow's sincerity - that much she knew. "Damn, Red. You're making me all misty."
Both girls grinned sheepishly at one another for a moment an unspoken truce had been made.
~Part: 6~
GOOD GUYS, BAD GUYS – AND SPIKE….
Ignoring her pointed glare and frantic winding down of the car window, Spike lit another cigarette swerving sharply from the path of an oncoming truck whose lane he had wandered into while searching the split and fading dashboard for his Zippo.
He raised one eyebrow expectantly waiting for the comment he could see she was dying to make. But to her credit, she merely ground her teeth and fastened her seatbelt.
Good girl. Maybe she had taken him seriously back at the apartment in Washington where she'd presented this fucked up plan to him in the first place.
Raising one hand to absently flick a strand of hair from her eyes, Dawn winced "Ouch!"
Spike didn't take his eyes from the road "What's that, pet?"
Dawn didn't answer him but placed her hand carefully over the puncture wounds on her neck.
Watching her from the corner of his eye, Spike grinned. If Buffy was still breathing he'd be pegged out in the Mojave right about now. "I told you how this was gonna have to work, pet. No point whining about it now."
Dawn glared mutinously up at him crossing her arms angrily across her chest. He was right and she hated him for it, but couldn't complain about it. Didn't mean she had to like it though. "I'm hungry." She pouted sullenly.
Spike allowed himself a short chuckle. "We'll stop at the next town, Niblett. How's that sound?"
"Fine. And don't call me that – I'm 23 ya know!"
"Hmph – coulda fooled me, pet."
"Bastard."
"That I am."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"You know you're doing a really great `Angel Circa 1999'."
The man faltered mid step for half a moment before resuming his pacing, choosing to ignore the woman whose dark eyes followed his every movement in annoyance as she soothed the child sleeping cocooned in her arms.
"Angel;"
"Cordy, please….."
"They're gonna be ok. Spike-"
Angel rounded on her then, an action that would have most cowering and gibbering before the vampire's wrath, but Cordy merely raised her finely sculpted brow.
"That's just it, Cordelia. No chip – remember?"
As annoying as his constant brooding was to someone as practical as she – Cordelia couldn't help softening the tight line of her mouth. This was also the reason she loved him so deeply. His determination to care for and protect them all.
"He made Buffy a promise. I don't believe for one moment he'll harm either of them. Spike may be a lot of things, but he says what he means and he means what he says. You know that better than all of us."
Angel sank to the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his short dark hair in a gesture Cordelia was far too familiar with. "The most predictable thing about Spike is his unpredictability."
He remembered a day not more than 14 months ago when Spike had snatched Cordelia from the office and held her captive for 7 excruciatingly long days. To `show you how it feels to have the one you love with another man' – he'd written in the letter he left for the AI team to find. Angel had believed, as Spike had wanted him to, that Cordelia would be forced to `know' Spike a lot better than she already did. It had almost killed him. Then seven days later, Cordelia was released. Unharmed. Untouched. There endeth the lesson. Was it about Dru, or Buffy? Angel still didn't know.
Cordelia, however, remembered a day not more than 6 months ago when Spike had barreled through the front door of the Hyperion with what once might have been a human being before all the broken bones, sucking chest wounds, and burns. He was delivering to them, a mage Wolfram and Heart had sent after Connor. "Not while I still exist" he explained in a low and dangerous voice "blood of my blood. Order of Aurelius." With that said he snapped the man's neck and was gone as quickly as he had arrived. Cuddling the infant protectively to her chest Cordelia realized that she was GRATEFUL. To Spike.
She frowned for a moment. This was getting them exactly nowhere and the fact remained that additional distractions were the last thing they needed at this point. In fact, distractions could be fatal. "Listen, Angel, there is exactly nothing you can do from here. Spike's put his hand up and the fact he called you and filled you in is gonna have to be reassurance enough. So deal already. We've got a millennial war to wage."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
FLASHBACK
Cordy took extra care to ensure the office door was safely secured and the alarm was switched on. She grinned to herself after punching in the required code. Even after all this time she was very pleased with her own ingenuity.
~~~~"The guy said it should be something easy to remember. Like my birthday."
~~~~~"But I don't know your birthday."
~~~~~"Tell me something I don't already know, Angel, no excuses now, right?"
Hadn't been a birthday since that time, that the guys had forgotten, she had the jewellery, shoes and dinner set to prove it.
Moving confidently in the darkened office she settled gracefully in her chair behind her desk and reached one perfectly manicured hand out to flick on the lamp.
Nothing. "Stupid lamp. Just changed the stupid bulb too." She muttered to herself before preparing to make her way back across the office to turn on the main switch.
Just as she stood a small flash of light burst to life from the direction of Wesley's chair causing Cordelia to jump and let out a startled "Eeep!". None of the guys were around; they had taken Connor with them to visit the Host in an attempt to track down the whereabouts of William the Bloody. Angel had given Cordy very clear instructions; she was to stay home with all the doors locked and all the curtains closed. She had ignored the directive, and was starting to wish she had done exactly what she had been told because the little burst of light was no illuminating the ignition of a cigarette clutched in the very pale fingers of a male owner who wore black nail polish. She only knew one man who wore black polish. One vampire.
"Hello, Luv."
She honestly couldn't think of a single thing to say in response to his greeting so she settled for a frantic search of her top desk drawer where she kept a spare stake and bottle of Holy water. Both of which were MIA.
Realizing he had already requisitioned them, Cordy sank bonelessly back into her chair, eyes never leaving the hypnotic motion of the cigarette as it flared and died with each drag he took.
"Can I have a word with you pet?"
"Didn't' leave me much choice there, did ya Sunshine!" She snapped, back to her formidable old self in not time. It was one of her talents, the quick recovery.
"Well aren't you a bloody ray of sunshine!"
"Sarcasm is just one more service I offer."
Not like she had the old Angel night vision thing happening but she could clearly see the glint of his white fangs as he grinned at her. Cordy found herself wondering if Spike flossed, then groaned at herself. C'mon brain, don't' leave me now.
"I like you Cheerleader." He chuckled "But tell me luv, honestly, does this make me look pasty?"
He flicked on Wesley's lamp shining it directly at her and rendering her temporarily blind. When she finally managed to blink through the stinging tears he was standing directly in front of her, arms outstretched, ridiculous eyebrows raised in query.
"It looks better on Wesley." She bit out, glaring up at him and trying desperately to calm her racing heart. Angel had told her once that fear for a vampire was like a red rag to a bull. Just hastened the attack.
He shrugged casually and let the cashmere scarf fall to the floor before settling himself comfortably atop cordelia's desk. "Howz ya typing skills pet?"
"Huh?"
"Typing. Secretary aint ya? Typing, filing, answering phones. Kinda your core business right?"
"Well it's more like, I pretend to work and Angel pretends to pay me."
He rolled his eyes and took a drag of his cigarette "Want ya to type me up a little memo for the poof."" He casually leant across her and clicked the power on to boot up the computer before pushing the keyboard towards her and clicking his fingers impatiently.
Pacify the vampire, Cordy. Keep him playing long enough and Angel might come home in time to…. Refusing to even think the word `rescue' she spoke instead. "Okay, but I'm gonna have to ask for overtime ya know."
He flashed her a brilliant but empty smile and slid gracefully from the desk to stand behind her. One hand on the back of her chair, one on the desktop, face level with her ear. Angel had positioned himself the same way hundreds of times but not once did she feel the menace or implicit threat she was getting from Spike right now. She shivered. "Hey, back off your in my aura!"
He ignored her rather wobbly directive. "Dear Peaches…."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Stop treating me like a child, Spike. I'm 23. I can take care of myself, Spike." He mimicked under his breath as he struggled to unlock the motel room door without waking the Niblett who was sleeping soundly in his arms.
It wasn't that she was heavy, she was just like any other modern woman intent on starving herself for the express purpose of looking like some third world refugee, but she was all gangly limbs and it made this balancing act bloody difficult.
Once he had her tucked into the lumpy bed he wandered over to the window to peer sightlessly into the pre dawn darkness. There hadn't been one town they'd stopped in while on this twisted road trip back to Sunnyhell where he hadn't felt the tingle in his fangs that signaled the presence of another vampire.
Since the arrival of the Ows, demons had found themselves actively courted by the Earth Alliance. Humans. And for the first time in written history vampires had been steadily revealing themselves without fear of slaughter.
The humans were in an unenviable position, reliant upon the assistance of those that would devour them given the opportunity - to fight the Ows who would obliterate humankind.
It was still too early to know how this was all gonna end up. The Ows had been seductively persuasive in their attempts to ensure the cooperation of the demon community. No demon could deny the thought of reclaiming the earth for their own, as it had been in the beginning, wasn't appealing. But….no more Man United, no more dog races, no more Love Boat, he'd given the speech before and his opinion on the matter hadn't changed.
Humans couldn't be trusted. Demons couldn't be trusted. Spike suspected there would be some bloody civil strife well before any battles with the Ows were seriously waged. Trust was the factor that would determine the outcome of the Millennial Wars. Could humans and demons overcome their essentially duplicitous and self destructive tendencies long enough to forge a temporary alliance to deal with the OW threat?
Somehow Spike doubted it..
Running his eyes over the Niblett he allowed himself a moment to think about Willow. A luxury he had consistently denied himself for years.
He couldn't help the nefarious grin that graced his handsome face when he realized that after all these years; he was going to get what he wanted with no argument and without fear of rejection or staking.
His assistance, even chipless – hell, especially chipless, was critical to them all. They needed him, they needed the vampire.
"And on that note, I'm heading out for a bite to eat." He murmured quietly to himself knowing that if Dawn did wake and leave the room for any reason, that his mark on her throat would ensure her safety.
~Part: 7~
FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER
Xander wasn't looking forward to this meeting. The very concept of what was going to be necessary to have Willow released left a bitter taste in his mouth.
This was just wrong on so many levels and for once in his life he had actually found himself agreeing with Angel. This `arrangment' had a very strong likelihood of going distinctly pear shaped for all concerned.
The only solace he could draw was that the Hellmouth was finally going to receive the long overdue services of a Slayer. Even that was little more than cold comfort considering whom that Slayer was. Here Xander found himself in more familiar territory, completely disagreeing with Deadboy. But as always, his warnings were falling on deaf ears. Giles was backing Angel and the Council was backing Giles. Sort of.
A small sigh roused him from his morbid musings and despite the impending doom he found time to smile indulgently and proudly at Anya who was sleeping as soundly as the newborn infant in her arms.
I occurred to him the very first time he held the child still connected to her Mother by the umbilical cord, that he had finally found what he had been looking for all those years. He had finally found his place.
How typically Hellmouthy that at the moment of his epiphany everything he gained was in danger of being taken from him.
Millennial wars.
He missed Buffy so much it hurt sometimes. Her death had left a yawning hole in the world he feared would never be filled.
Xander reached over and pulled the covers more securely around his wife and child. Protecting them was instinctive, not something he had to remind himself to do. When he had realized this, the day his family had returned from the hospital, he had taken himself to the basement, closed the door quietly, and sobbed in relief.
Here was something he was gonna be good at. Xander Harris was going to be a good father, a good husband. His own dysfunctional family had not managed to ruin that for him.
It was Willow he confided in two days later. Whispering in awe "I'm a good father, Will." She had drawn her brows together and tilted her head in confusion for a moment and he had almost been afraid she was about to contradict him. Then understanding had dawned across her face and she smiled gently "You're nothing like them, Xander. You never were, you've never been tainted by their poison. Never."
She hadn't doubted him. Not for a second. Ever. She saw in him something he had feared had not existed within himself. Good.
He couldn't love her anymore than he did. Best friend seemed such an inadequate label for Willow. He would die for her, just as he would die for his wife and child. He couldn't' live without any of them. He wouldn't.
So he wasn't looking forward to this meeting.
He returned to his vigil at the window peering into the night anxiously awaiting The Arrival.
What he needed was a credible threat. What he didn't have was a credible threat. His adversary literally had nothing to lose, so Xander had nothing to use…..
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He had been alone for years. It was his choice, he'd wanted it that way. He hadn't actively sought companionship, although it had found him from time to time. He decided when he left Sunnyhell that if he couldn't have who he wanted, then the didn't want anyone. Just didn't give a toss.
Solitude had done him the world of good as it turned out. He wasn't gonna be all Oprah about it, but the fact remained his self-imposed exile had sharpened his instincts on all kinds of levels and while he had been good at being bad before, he was even better now.
This wasn't the first time he had proclaimed himself `Master' and it probably wouldn't be the last, but this time around would be so much easier. The Big Bad had been an excellent Master almost without peer amongst his kind, but Angelus had always been better. While technically Angel remained the alpha Master of the Order of Aurelius, Spike was now acknowledged to be his Sire's equal.
Taking Sunnyhell for his own had been a walk in the park. Subsequent negotiations with the EA had been just as piss easy.
Spike was the undisputed Master of the Hellmouth. Spike was the Slayer of Slayers. Spike was one half of the Scourge of Europe. Spike was….anxious.
Xander heard the Car's approach before he saw the sleek and forbidding lines of Spike's De Soto pull to a screeching halt outside his home. Spike drove the way he lived, flat out, recklessly and without regard for the safety of anyone.
Grinding his teeth angrily he added this to his extensive mental list of `things I hate about Spike', before stepping resolutely through the front door of his home to meet the vampire on his front porch.
He watched through slitted eyes as Spike swaggered casually towards him, puffing on the ever-present cigarette. He had not changed one tiny little bit, still wore the same outfit, same stupid hair, same stupid face, same stupid walk. Xander curled his lip a little as Spike mounted the wide porch steps and leant against a stone support beam.
"What, not happy to see yer old pal, Spike? No warm and friendly invite into the family home?" He mocked in what Xander thought was the most annoying and ridiculous accent he had ever had the misfortune of hearing.
"Over my dead body, Junior."
Spike allowed a slow smile to crack across his face and took another deep drag on his cigarette before he responded "I'd be happy to arrange it, whelp."
Xander didn't want to do it, but he took a tentative step back towards the safety of the front door. Spike's deadpan delivery was a testament to his sincerity. He was no longer all bark and no bite boy. He was all bite and all bite.
Both men allowed the silence to stretch between them, silently challenging each other with glacial stares, neither one wanting to concede to the other. Times meant they would have to settle for these lesser battles even though both wished they could be inflicting grievous bodily harm upon the other, or even a slight case of murder.
So engrossed were both men in their macho posturing that neither noticed Anya's appearance at the front door.
"Where's Willow?"
Xander started slightly at the sharply spoken question, he was edgy, but grateful for the distraction. Spike was…..different. He shouldn't have been surprised of course. This was post chip Spike. The changes in the vampire went far beyond the chip, however. Spike had attained a new watchfulness, a new intensity that hadn't been present before. With a sinking feeling Xander suddenly identified why Spike was making his skin crawl. The blond fairly radiated `menace' all the more intimidating because he didn't have to crow or threaten or convince. He was the man – he knew it, everyone else knew it, Xander knew it. He was the very image of his Sire. Angelus. Spikey was all grown up. Must remember not to actually call him `Spikey' to his face, Xander winced to himself.
Spike kept his face impassive as the whelp placed his well-built frame protectively between his woman and the vampire interloper Xander no doubt considered him to be. He was glad the annoying chit had shown up when she did, it had fast been approaching the point where Spike was beginning to think he and Xander were gonna have to go a few rounds before he convinced the little upstart who was wearing the pants in this town these days, but he had seen the flicker of acknowledgement in Xander's dark eyes and knew the whelp had seen the light. Good, he didn't particularly want to start something he was unable to finish – for the moment at least. Something to look forward to later maybe.
Wouldn't pay to get too relaxed. He knew the kid well and Spike didn't doubt for a second his commitment to protecting his own. Hell he'd witnessed it often enough in the past. He might despise Alexander Harris as a `human' but Spike had always been unwillingly impressed by the kid's unwavering loyalty.
"Where is she?" Xander asked tonelessly.
"Few things we need to get sorted first, Harris" Spike deadpanned, flicking his still smoldering cigarette butt negligently into the neat garden bed hugging the equally neat paved pathway to the porch. Spike shuddered unconsciously at the sickening domesticity of it all; and he wondered how the demon chit could stomach it.
"not part of the plan, Spike. Where is she?"
Vampires were fast. Scary fast. Faster than the eye can see kind of fast. Xander knew this. Still, he couldn't help the way his heart, which had been doing the old tango anyway, suddenly lurched and almost exploded when he realized that Spike was no longer casually leaning against the porch 3 meters away, but had him pinned firmly against the wall of the modest Californian bungalow he called home – feet dangling a good 2 inches from the ground.
"Don't think you're quite paying attention, mate." Spike sneered squeezing Xander's throat just a little harder, not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. For fun. Snapping his head towards Anya he grinned dangerously. "Don't even think it, pet. You don't want to make an orphan of the rug rat I can smell inside, do you?"
Xander watched as best as he could through his blurred vision as Anya reluctantly lowered the stake she had produced and took a cautious step back towards the relative safety of the front door.
"Good girl. Now piss off – I'll take good care of yer boy, scout's honor."
"Do it, hon." Xander choked, desperate to see Anya as far from this lunatic as possible and equally desperate not to provoke him any further. William the fucking Bloody.
A moment later Xander was struggling to maintain his tenuous grip on consciousness and holding a trembling hand to his damaged throat. Spike had returned to his previous position and had even lit another cigarette. In fact if it had not been for the excruciating, burning pain in his throat, Xander may have been tempted to believe it hadn't happened.
But near death experiences were run of the mill stuff and Xander was made of sturdy stuff, so he asked again. "where is she?" he croaked the question wincing at the tearing pain screaming through his swollen vocal chords.
"You know, mate. You and me aren't that different."
Xander would have snorted derisively but knew any attempt to do so would bring tears to his eyes. There would be no crying in front of the vampire. So he stayed quiet and settled for a glare instead.
"You" Spike continued conversationally gesturing towards him with the cigarette, "would die for the ones you love. I on the other hand, would kill for the ones I love."
Where the hell all this philosophizing was going Xander had no clue, he just wanted to know where Willow was at, and he wanted to know YESTERDAY.
"Same commitment, same goals, just different means, mate." He took another drag before continuing. "Here's a tip, Chubs – killing for her as opposed to dying for her – better method. Way better method, got me?"
No he didn't `get him' so he decided to stick with a winner. He glared at the vampire some more.
Spike threw back his head in frustration and drew in a deep and very unnecessary breath. Why was he doing this again? Oh yeah, Red.
He swung his gaze back to the idiot. "I love her. I'll kill for her. Remember point one and point two, we'll get along fine. With no Slayer here yet, and a new Master on the Hellmouth I'd figure getting along should be a priority of yours, mate…….you're a family man now, right?"
Oh he was getting him now. Yep. A rational man would `take it all on board' step back into the family home and count his blessings. Xander was never too rational when his family was in danger – maybe that's what Spike wasn't `getting' – Willow was his `family'.
"Where. Is. She?"
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