Oil & Blood

By Medea

Chapter Four

Spike screwed up his face in disgust. Augh! Just his luck that the Slayer was holed up in a backwater town rife with the odor of livestock. It assaulted his acute vampire senses mercilessly. Maybe he could persuade Willow to start the search near that Cutthroat Saloon the Seer had envisioned. He certainly liked the name -- sounded like his kind of place.

Right.

An eleven-year-old girl at a saloon. Willow would really go for that one.

Why the hell had he let her drag him out here, anyway? Give him a good, densely-populated city any day. He didn't care for sleepy country hamlets -- never had, not even in life. With the possible exception of the saloon -- and Willow -- the town offered none of his favorite distractions. 'Course, he could cook up distractions enough. A decent brawl for starters, or maybe scaring some sweet, wholesome country girl senseless before draining her.

But his sire had threatened him with a nice rooftop view of the sunrise if he called too much attention to them before the girl was safe.

The blond vampire scowled.

He knew bloody well why he was here.

He'd pulled every damned trick out of his arse to get Willow to snap out of her funk, and this was just one more. She'd somehow fallen prey to the idea that she'd done something *wrong* in London. Passing regret, he might've understood. But this was bloody ridiculous. It was like rescuing the infant Slayer was some kind of penance. And for what? Doing something sanctioned by Angel's sodding *Powers* themselves.

On top of it all, she was pining for his sire. It was Drusilla all over again.

He hadn't minded that her affections were divided between Angel and himself. Well...not *too* much. Unlike his insane princess, Willow never forgot whom she was with, and gave him her full attention when they were together. Angel was also no Angelus. He didn't exploit every opportunity to make Spike feel like Willow's second choice. The two males had managed to honor their agreement not to repeat the Drusilla situation.

Someone had bloody well forgotten to tell Willow about the deal, though.

Although she didn't mope over Angel as overtly as Dru had, the same longing was ever-present. For some reason, it had gotten worse in the past couple of months, and it was wearing on Spike's nerves. He wondered sullenly how long he could put up with it.

He glanced at the determined, fiery beauty who walked beside him, her eyes narrowed as she concentrated intently on sensing the Slayer, and to his chagrin knew that he'd put up with it forever.

She was the most challenging, alluring -- and taxing -- creature to cross his path in a century, and he was hooked.

What a pathetic, sorry sod.

Damned lucky, too. Even more than Dru had, Willow made him feel like a prince among demons.

"Spike, you're either having a muscle spasm in your jaw, or something is bothering you."

Damn, her attention wasn't quite as focused on the search as he'd assumed.

"Just wondering why the helpless little waif had to live in the middle of a stinking cow pasture," Spike grumbled.

Willow graced him with one of her soft, knee-weakening smiles and laced her fingers through his.

"I think it's kind of pretty out here. We don't see nearly this many stars in L.A."

It was true. The obsidian dome of the night sky was bedecked with a seemingly-infinite array of stars. Some shone in clusters, others glittered in solitude like beacons at sea. They were framed only by the void of the dark, silhouetted hills. Spike shrugged. He was in no mood to be distracted by starlight and a full moon.

"Nice enough. Look, luv, we've been at this since we got in almost three hours ago. Chit's probably in bed by now. We've practically been from one end of this town to the other. What say we go nip a local or two at the saloon and call it a night?"

Willow pulled her hand away from his and lowered her eyes in disappointment.

"We've still got a good four hours until dawn. She may be asleep, but I'll still be able to sense her. If you're that hungry, you go ahead and I'll meet you back at the cabin."

Spike looked away, but didn't bother to disguise the sullen tone in his voice.

"No, if you're determined to carry on with your crusade, I might as well come along for the ride. Wouldn't want to miss the excitement if you actually find her."

Willow halted, faced him with hands on hips, and retorted, "Crusade? You think this is a joke?"

Oh, sod.

"Not a very good one. But I think *you've* got a helluva lot riding on this."

Willow flinched and took a moment before answering softly, "You wouldn't understand."

"Damn right," Spike snorted. "Angel could've handled this. Oh, I know -- the other vision. But he could've made quick work of that and been out here in plenty of time. D'you have any idea what you're really looking for? 'Cos it's not just the Slayer."

"No...I don't," Willow confessed slowly.

They stood apart for several minutes, the surrounding silence disturbed only by the occasional rustling of wind in the trees. Seemingly out of the blue, Willow asked, "Spike, have you ever made a childe?"

He blinked and shifted his stance. Odd question.

"No. Why d'you ask?"

"But you could."

" 'Course I could. Red, you owe me an answer. Why the interest all of a sudden?"

"I guess...I just feel out of sorts, lately. I don't know where I belong. It's always been this way, but it didn't bother me too much -- until London. Now, for the first time, other vampires treat me like I'm really one of them. It's like I traded up by killing a few Watchers. It would be so easy just to settle into the community, play the game, jostle the other masters for power...but I don't know if that's what I want..."

Spike fixed her with a penetrating stare. "Willow...are you asking me if siring a childe can fill that void?"

"I don't think I could bring myself to do it," Willow confessed awkwardly, looking for all the world like a lost child. "But I just want to know. What makes a vampire do it? And why haven't you ever...?"

Spike pursed his lips thoughtfully. He knew she'd asked Angel about this before, so she obviously didn't want the standard explanations: Companionship. Empire-building. Legacy. What the hell was she looking for?

"If you're wondering whether there's a connection between sire and childe that gives them a clear sense of their place in the world, the answer is yes. As for my lack of progeny...'spose I never felt the need for a childe. Walking beside Angelus was..." a distant, passionate fire burned in his eyes, "...everything I could have ever wanted. Later, I made my own place in the world. Besides, I never found anyone that suited me. Most chits I'd just as soon drain, maybe shag once or twice...but not many I'd want under foot for eternity."

"But you were willing to spend over a century with Drusilla," Willow pointed out.

"Dru needed me...and I liked feeling needed. She was my princess," Spike agreed, smiling ruefully at the thought of his erstwhile lover. "But Angelus got to her first. Who knows, if I'd happened across her before he did, I might've turned her. Might've spared her mind."

Willow's eyes softened, and she pressed further. "You once offered to turn me."

"I'd make you the same offer again, if I could," Spike responded instantly, his voice tempered with deep emotion. "Guess my timing bites. Someone else always gets to the best ones before I do."

The look in Willow's eyes nearly melted him. They shone as if he'd given her a gift, as if there was nobody else in the world but him. It was enough to make him want to throw her down then and there.

Perhaps with a quick glance at the ground for cow dung.

"If I had the chance again, I'd say yes," Willow murmured, stepping closer. She kissed him gently and added, "I love you, Spike."

Spike reminded himself that he was dead, and that it was *not* the thrumming of his heart he'd just felt.

They had done just about everything lovers could do -- usually, while they were both naked. But although their relationship encompassed the fierce passion of demons and the tender familiarity of dedicated mates, those words hadn't really entered into the picture.

Breathe, dammit. Wait, he didn't breathe. Say something.

"And I, you," Spike answered softly, swelling with pleasure. He knew she'd said it to Angel, too, but somehow she was able to love *him* just as completely. Willow matched him, fire for fire. "If Dru was a princess, you are my queen."

With firm, insistent hands he drew her up against his body. Spike cradled her cheek with one hand, gently stroking it with his thumb, and kissed her again. Her lips parted eagerly as his tongue thrust forward, seeking its mate. They were joined together in intimate exploration for what could have been hours, yet when Willow pulled away the dawn was still far from creeping over the hills.

"Spike...I know you don't altogether understand why I'm doing this, but I need to keep looking. Can I promise you we'll pick up where we left off, later, at the cabin?"

He smiled and dropped his forehead against his fist in defeat. She was overpowering. When his eyes once again met hers, he leered. "Make me as many promises as you like. I love collecting."

Spike let Willow coax him into continuing along her chosen path. A true predator, as they passed different homes, he took note of the surroundings and the number of heartbeats he detected. He, too, remained alert for the Slayer, having to admit to himself that he was a little curious about how a pre-adolescent Slayer would register.

Dawn was almost upon them when Spike felt Willow go very still. He paused, straining to detect what had caught her attention. They were half-way down the long, winding approach to yet another ranch house, which looked much like all the others. Spike smelled the musky odor of horses, but was as yet unable to sense anything human. Willow began to walk briskly toward the house; Spike kept pace with her. When they were about twenty yards away, he felt his familiar response to a Slayer. A cold prickling ran along his spine and a dull ache throbbed in his fangs.

They'd found her. But with hardly a moment to spare.

"She's here," Willow announced excitedly.

Spike nodded. "Not much we can do at the moment, though. Unless you fancy spending the day in the barn, we'd best get back to our cabin and come back tomorrow night." When Willow hesitated, he added, "Even if another vamp tracked us here, he wouldn't be able to go after her in daylight."

Willow relaxed slightly. "You're right. But we should be back here at dusk."

Spike agreed, his earlier reluctance forgotten at the prospect of encountering an untrained child-Slayer. True, he'd no interest in taking her out -- it would be so easy, it was beneath him. But he'd never faced a Slayer who wasn't his equal before, and the novelty of it intrigued him.

They made it back to their private cabin at a local resort easily before sunrise. It was a bit too rustic for his taste -- Spike suspected the main lodge had a bit more flair. However, being secluded from the other guests and staff had its advantages.

Very notable advantages, Spike acknowledged as he lay on their bed and shivered as Willow delicately brushed her tongue along the tender underside of his shaft. With no annoying neighbors around to hear, he threw back his head and growled with pleasure.

Damn, he loved it when she....oh, yeah...

*****

After dusk, Willow helped Spike dispose of the brawny young man they had drained. Both of them had been famished, since they'd had no chance to feed the night before. She insisted that they use extra discretion, since people in a community this small were more likely to notice if a neighbor went missing. They'd listened in on conversations at the Cutthroat Saloon until they were certain they'd found someone from out of town, then waited for him to step outside.

When they were through, they headed immediately for the ranch where they'd detected the Slayer the night before. Willow was still worried about the possibility that she and Spike had inadvertently led other vampires here -- especially given what Andrew Murdoch had told her.

Her worst fears were realized as they neared the ranch house and Willow sensed not only the girl, but another vampire. Through her unique Slayer-telepathy, Willow perceived that the child was poised to fight and held some sort of a weapon. A quarter-staff? No...more like a shovel. Knowing that Spike would follow, Willow broke out into a run.

She found them in the stable. Willow recognized the vampire who menaced the Slayer as a mature minion she had seen at Caritas once or twice. No doubt he hoped to elevate himself to master status by killing the girl. Willow surveyed the damage quickly. An adult male and female, most likely the girl's parents, lay unconscious on the ground. She caught the scent of blood -- and lots of it -- coming from the male, whose hands clutched a rifle. Sure enough, the attacking minion sported several entry- and exit-wounds.

Resolutely squared off against him was the Slayer, the girl Cordelia had described from her vision. From the look of the shovel she wielded, she'd been in the middle of her chores, cleaning out the stalls, when the vampire had jumped her. Willow guessed that her screams had brought the unfortunate parents running. Yet though the girl was small, and clearly frightened, her Slayer instincts had kicked in and enabled her to hold her ground.

Sensing the presence of rival vampires, the minion turned and snarled, "Mine!"

"Wanna bet?" Willow retorted. Launching herself at him, but not dropping immediately into gameface for fear of ruining her chances with the Slayer, it took her only a few jabs and feints before she had him in a headlock. Pulling a stake from the pocket of her coat, she addressed the Slayer, who was stunned by Willow's actions. "The most effective way to dispatch a vampire is a stake through the heart. Make sure your aim is precise."

Willow punctuated her lesson with a demonstration. The minion promptly disintegrated. But when she fixed her eyes on the young Slayer and took a step toward her, the girl raised her shovel and warned shakily, "Stay away from me!"

Willow complied, and advised her calmly, "You should move your parents inside the house. If there are any others of our kind in the area, they won't be able to harm them there. A vampire can't enter a human residence without an invitation."

"You're vampires, too..." the girl deduced, still tensed for a fight.

Spike, who had stayed back to this point, advanced a few paces, flashed his demon face and taunted, "Couldn't you tell?"

When the Slayer appeared confused and made no reply, Willow asked, "Did you feel strange around the one who attacked you? Do you feel the same thing around us?"

The girl hesitated for a few beats, obviously wary of telling the monstrous strangers anything. However, she eventually admitted, "Kind of. It's like butterflies in my stomach."

"Learn to understand the signals your body is sending you. That's your warning that vampires are in the area. It's one of your special abilities as the Slayer," Willow explained.

"Slayer?"

"Vampire Slayer. The Chosen One. In each generation, a girl is called to protect humans from our kind. The task has fallen to you," Willow continued.

"But I don't want to be one," the girl protested.

Willow recalled how difficult it had been for Buffy to adjust to the responsibilities of her calling, when all she'd wanted was to be a teenager and enjoy the usual activities of teenaged life. It pained her to think that the Council's actions had not only robbed Buffy of her life, but would rob this girl of her remaining childhood. Possibly her life, as well.

"What's your name?" Willow asked gently.

The Slayer hesitated.

Willow understood that the girl might be reluctant to volunteer her name to strangers, but was nonetheless impatient due to the urgency of the situation. "Tell me, or don't tell me. You know we could kill you if we wanted to, so not telling me your name isn't really much of a safety measure, is it? My name is Willow, if it matters."

Startled by such bluntness, the girl wrinkled her brow at Willow's logic. Confused, she found herself murmuring, "Megan."

"Megan, it's not something you can really choose. You were born to this. Even if you try to ignore it, other vampires will seek you out, and they'll know what you are. The minion who attacked you tonight was only the first."

"And he was far from the worst you'll meet," Spike added.

"Are you going to kill me?" Megan's timid question wasn't directed specifically at either one of them. Though she suppressed the noise of sobs, her small frame trembled and tears leaked from her eyes.

"No, we're here to help," Willow assured her.

"How do I know that? You're a vampire, like the other one," Megan blurted accusingly.

"Not all vampires are alike," Willow explained. "But I know it will be hard for you to trust us. And that's good -- vampires are deadly, and a Slayer's guard must always be up. However, right now, we're all you've got. I'm willing to earn your trust. We can start by getting your parents inside."

"Looks like mommy's about to wake up, anyway," Spike observed.

"How can you tell?" Megan wondered, glancing between the intimidating vampire and her mother, whose body remained motionless.

"Vampire, remember?" Spike quipped brusquely. "We're experts at reading pulse, heartbeat, body temperature...Take you. Your pulse isn't going quite as fast now as it was a few minutes ago. Oughta be careful, little thing, you don't dare get too comfortable around us."

Megan's eyes widened, and she impulsively felt for the pulse at her throat, which had quickened at Spike's sinister words. He snickered.

As Spike had anticipated, Megan's mother slowly regained consciousness. A low moan signaled that she was awake, and she sat up. When she saw Willow and Spike, she grabbed her husband's rifle in alarm and aimed it at them.

"Megan, come here," the woman urged her daughter nervously. Still wielding the shovel, the young Slayer moved to stand beside her mother. Staring coldly at the two vampires, the woman demanded, "Who are you?"

"My name is Willow, and my companion is Spike. Since you're probably wondering, yes, like the one who attacked you, we're vampires. Unlike him, we're here to help your daughter."

"Vampires are a myth. They don't exist," the woman challenged.

Not surprised by her response, since most humans remained blissfully ignorant of the predators who stalked them, Willow allowed her demon face to emerge. However, the gesture so startled the woman that she pulled the trigger of the rifle. Willow recoiled in pain from the impact of the bullet.

Spike howled with rage, and before the woman could react, he seized the rifle and flung it clear across the stable, completely unconcerned about the risk that the impact with the ground might set it off. Before he could attack the Slayer's mother, however, Willow stretched out her arm to wave him back. Wincing, she muttered, "Spike, don't -- I'm okay. Could you fish it out before the wound closes up?"

With a final glare at the astonished humans who looked on, Spike turned to Willow. She braced herself, gripping his shoulders firmly with both hands, and gave him a faint smile to reassure him. His eyes held a silent apology as he plunged his fingers into the wound. Willow hissed and dug her fingernails into his duster. A moment later, Spike pulled out the offending bullet. Gazing at her mischievously, he brought the bullet to his mouth and licked it clean with slow, erotic swipes of his tongue.

Appalled, the Slayer's mother grimaced at the macabre sight.

Remembering that they had an audience, Willow gave Spike a quick kiss of thanks, then turned back to Megan and her mother and advised, "Bullets don't work against vampires. A stake to the heart, decapitation, crosses, holy water, sunlight -- those are your best bets. A private residence makes a good safe haven if you're unable to fight. And speaking of that, we should get all of you inside your home. I can help you with him as far as the threshold."

Megan's mother stood her ground for several moments, still uncertain and hopelessly ill-equipped to judge whether or not she could really trust the two vampires. At last, she nodded. It was less a choice than a gesture of defeat. Willow moved to lift the still-unconscious man so she could carry him to the house, but Spike stopped her. Indicating the wound in her chest, which was slowly mending itself, he said, "Ease up for a bit, luv."

Crouching down, Spike slung the Slayer's father over his shoulder and followed the human females to their house. When they reached the front door, he shifted the man to his arms and handed him to Megan. Without even thinking, the small girl reached out to accept her father, but then blinked in surprise when she realized she was supporting his full weight. Her muscles barely strained, despite the fact that he was more than twice her size.

Spike saw her look of astonishment and pursed his lips in amusement. "Slayer strength. One of the perks of the job."

"You'll understand if I don't invite you in," Megan's mother muttered awkwardly as she ushered her daughter inside.

Willow nodded. "We'll stay nearby, though, since there's no way to know whether there are other vampires in the area. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but life won't ever be the same for you. I suggest you call a man named Rupert Giles at this number." Willow reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a business card for the magic shop. "He'll be able to help you understand this, and it will probably be easier for you to hear it from a human."

Hesitantly, Megan's mother reached across the threshold and took the card from Willow. When she looked doubtfully at the enigmatic redhead, Willow re-iterated, "Call him, please. For Megan's safety." As the Slayer's mother began to close the door, Willow added, "By the way, from the sound of his pulse and the pallor of his skin, I'd say your husband has lost at least three pints of blood, maybe more. Get him to a hospital as soon as you can."

Megan, who had set her father down on the living-room sofa and returned to the doorway, whispered timidly, "Could he die?"

As Willow turned toward Spike, who was waiting on the porch steps, she looked gravely into the girl's eyes and acknowledged, "Yes."

*****

Hang it all!

Giles slammed down the telephone, so frustrated he felt he was about to burst out of his own skin. This was the fifth call he'd made to the Council since Wesley had informed him that the Slayer had been located, and that Willow and Spike were on their way to retrieve her. He'd tried diplomacy, pleading, angry shouts, but their exchanges always ended the same way. He couldn't convince the Council to send a new Watcher for the Slayer. They insisted that he tell them where to find her, and when he refused, out of concern for the girl's safety, he was left with a dial tone.

They were blind fools, clinging to their suspicions and their need to call the shots.

He was jolted out of his silent rant when the telephone rang. His breath caught in his throat. Could they have finally decided to listen to reason?

"Hello?" he addressed the caller.

"Is this....Rupert...Guyles?" a woman's voice asked hesitantly.

"Ah, yes it is, or, rather *Giles*, as in...er, genteel," he acknowledged.

"My name is Leah MacKenzie. This is going to sound strange, but...I was given your card by a...a...vampire."

"Willow?" Giles prompted hopefully.

"Yes. It's about our daughter."

"Did Willow already explain that your daughter is rather...unique...and is in considerable danger at the moment?"

"She did, but I don't know how to believe any of this. Frankly, I don't even know quite why I called you, except..."

"...you can't really think of anyone else to call?" Giles offered helpfully when she didn't finish.

"I don't know what to think about anything," the strain was evident in Mrs. MacKenzie's voice. "Vampires are *fictional*. They belong in horror movies, *not* in my stable threatening my only child. And now there are two of them, waiting outside my home, trying to get me to accept that they're here to help. What am I supposed to believe?!"

"Mrs. MacKenzie, I think it would be best if we started from the beginning..."

Giles settled in for a very long discussion. He knew it would take tremendous patience and every verbal skill he could muster to persuade this woman to take the biggest leap of faith in her entire life.

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