The Seventh SlayerBy Kantayra
Chapter EighteenThe door opened all the way, and Spike and Isabelle took aim, and…
Nothing.
An empty corridor greeted them.
Spike cautiously stuck his head in, looking first one way and then the other down the darkened passage. In the distance, he could just barely make out the door of something clattering far down to the left.
“Someone’s in there,” he informed Isabelle, activating the spotlight on his rifle and gesturing for her to do the same.
“Who?” she asked curiously, following him in.
“My bet,” he said, taking off down the tunnel. “This is an escape…”
* * *
“Elizabeth Anne Summers,” Fletcher said with a growl that could easily have rivaled any vampire’s. “What the hell did you think you were doing?!”
Buffy and Ajaya turned to see Fletcher standing with fists clenched, face a deep maroon color. Next to him, Alex looked just as likely to blow a gasket.
“Er, um…” Buffy suddenly felt the need to begin stuttering.
“This is completely unacceptable behavior!” he continued to rant, while Alex stood to the side happy to let the irate ex-Watcher do his thing. “Not only did you defy orders and abandon your post, but you put one of our Slayers in the middle of battle with virtually no combat experience!”
“I was watching her back,” Buffy managed to at least argue with that last argument. “And Ajaya can take care of herself.”
Fletcher shook his head, refusing to even listen to her. “It’s completely intolerable,” he informed her. “You were left outside for a reason! If Alex hadn’t noticed you’d abandoned your duties…”
“It was just border patrol,” Buffy insisted.
“Yes, and the last minute replacement Alex called in captured three Watchers trying to escape! Border patrol has a purpose, you know!”
“But Monica was on the next field over!” Buffy continued what was fast becoming a furious debate.
Alex looked Ajaya right in the eye and gestured for her to go off down the corridor a little way.
She gulped and did as he requested, a bit anxious at being so far away from Buffy. Because she so did not want to face Alex at his worst all by herself.
“Are you all right?” he demanded first, checking her over casually for injuries and frowning at the makeshift bandage around her leg.
She nodded nervously.
“You had a duty as well,” he informed her in a deceptively calm voice.
“B-Buffy—”
“Buffy didn’t force you to go with her. You made your own decision,” he replied. “You knew that your position was important, yet you abandoned it all the same.”
“I was supposed to listen to her,” Ajaya protested.
“Yes,” Alex agreed, “but you knew perfectly well that she was disobeying orders and you went along with it anyway. Why?”
“I-I don’t know?” she said nervously.
“Got bored?” he demanded. “Didn’t want to miss out on the excitement?”
“Buffy just assumed I would go with her, and—”
“And what? You didn’t bother to think for yourself?” he shook his head. “I’ve got to say I’m disappointed in you. You’ve shown remarkable skill and judgment up until this point. You were actually starting to earn my respect. I’m sad to see it was misplaced.”
And with that he left her there, gaping, still waiting to be thoroughly chewed out.
* * *
Spike and Isabelle had made it at least a mile underground before the first shot had been fired. They quickly dove to the ground. Unfortunately, a little while back, the nice wooden ground had given way to hard-packed mud ground with lots of puddles.
Isabelle spit out the muddy water that got into her mouth and looked up only to have Spike force her head back down to the ground when several volleys of bullets ricocheted around them.
“You OK?” Spike whispered.
“Fine,” Isabelle insisted, wiping the mud from her mouth once more.
“Good,” he said. “Turn off your light.”
Isabelle did as he asked, while he mirrored her motions. Soon the tunnel around them was pitch black.
“This helps us how?” Isabelle asked sarcastically. Lying in a pile of mud being shot at in the dark was not exactly an improvement in her mind.
“Can you see ‘em?” Spike asked instead of rising to her bait.
“No,” she sulked. “I can’t see anything.”
“Light?” he inquired. “Real dim. Right down the tunnel.”
Isabelle squinted and almost thought she could make out a slightly less black spot in the darkness. “So?” she asked, turning back to where she could only feel he was.
“I think ‘s movin’ away again,” he commented.
“If you say so.” Isabelle got progressively less enthusiastic the closer she got to mud, she’d long since discovered.
“Let’s go,” Spike said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “No lights.”
“Great plan,” Isabelle rolled her eyes, disappointed that the action was lost in the dark…although maybe it wasn’t, what with him being a vamp and all… “How exactly am I supposed to see?”
“’ll guide you,” Spike insisted, taking her hand. “Ground’s been pretty level so far…”
Isabelle groaned but followed when he began pulling on her wrist. It was hard to get over her instinctual fear that she was going to fall over or crash into something every second. However, Spike managed to lead her pretty well, stopping to wrap and arm around her waist whenever the ground became uneven.
The dim light ahead was growing closer now, and no more shots were fired, undoubtedly began the snipers didn’t see any approaching lights.
Isabelle could now make out that the bobbing light ahead was a flashlight of some sort, and distant echoes of voices came to her in spurts.
Spike listened intently to the conversation he could clearly make out. Four men, all British, one with the unmistakable pompous voice of Clifford Fitzpatrick, the – unfortunate – current head of the Council.
“Head honchos ‘re makin’ a break for it,” he informed Isabelle in a low whisper.
However, even as they watched, a white square of light opened at the far end of the corridor. Four figures were apparent to Isabelle against the bright background for a second before the door shut again behind them.
“Bloody hell!” Spike swore, turning his rifle light back on and dashing for the door.
Isabelle was right on his heels. They reached the closed metal door at the same time and struggled a bit, trying to open it. Spike got pissed off almost instantly and settled for ripping out the door’s hinges. Together, he and Isabelle managed to pry it open.
They dashed outside to the sound of an engine roaring to life. Spike took off after the retreating vehicle but was forced to drop to the ground when a volley of missiles was shot in his direction.
Quite miraculously – Isabelle thought – he wasn’t hit. She slowly approached him as the vehicle went into hover mode and took off into the sky.
“Fuck!” Spike exclaimed, slamming his fist into the ground.
“Got away, huh?” she asked wryly.
He gave her an annoyed scowl and headed back for the tunnels. “C’mon,” he informed her, “we’d better find out wha’s goin’ on…”
* * *
Nicolas rolled his eyes and covered his ears as the battle continued to rage.
“You actually thought I’d just sit by and watch while everyone else defeated the Watchers?!” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.
“Of course,” Fletcher scoffed, “how silly of me. Why I ever thought you could show even the slightest restraint is beyond me!”
Monica smiled ruefully at Ajaya as the argument went on and on in the background.
“I’m starting to feel guilty,” Ajaya smiled back nervously.
“Don’t worry about it,” Monica insisted, moving one of the bound Watchers from under a pile of rubble and gesturing for Ajaya to help get him on the stretcher. “This happens all the time.”
“Does it ever work?” Ajaya asked curiously, flinching slightly at the piercing tone of Buffy’s next exclamation.
Monica shrugged and heaved the woman’s feet over, while Ajaya moved her shoulders. “Better than anything else,” she decided. “Buffy picks up things best when they’re, er…loud and obnoxious. No wonder Spike caught her attention…”
Ajaya couldn’t help but laugh.
“And just where is that mate of yours, anyway?!” Fletcher demanded in the background. “There’s no way he’s getting out of this unscathed…”
“Spike?” Buffy asked curiously. “He’s not here. I thought he was with you.”
Fletcher frowned. “But he came in after you…”
Everyone was watching their exchange with some concern now. After all, it was a bit disturbing that no one had noticed Spike’s absence until now.
“Where is he?” Buffy’s eyes widened in panic. “Has anyone seen Spike?”
“Or Isabelle?” Fletcher called out. “They were together…”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Oh, god,” Buffy’s face paled, “they could be hurt, or-or…”
Creak.
Everyone froze at the distinct sound of metal bending.
“What was that?” Ajaya ventured to ask.
Monica indicated that she didn’t know, and Alex signaled for her to be quiet.
Creeeaak. Bang!
“It’s coming from…” Buffy began, walking across the room slowly, “…the wall?”
As she said it, a panel of the wall banged outwards, crashing to the floor. Instantly, dozens of laser rifles all centered on the black opening.
“Don’ shoot!” a distinctive British voice called out.
“SCBI here!” Isabelle echoed.
With a sigh of relief, everyone dropped their weapons once more.
Buffy literally stalked over to the small opening and ripped the neighboring loosened panels off the wall, allowing the two lost team members to finally enter the control room.
“What on earth—?” she began before she got a good look at them. Then she burst out laughing.
“Oi!” Spike complained, helping Isabelle out through the hole. “What’s so funny?”
“My god,” Buffy giggled, “what were you two doing? Mud-wrestling?”
Spike shot her a nasty look, causing more flakes of the caked mud on his face to crumble off.
“Oh, poor baby,” Buffy teased, brushing off as much of the mud as she could. “Did you get all muddy?”
He growled and caught her up in his arms, planting a feverish right on her lips. She squealed a bit and batted at him half-heartedly.
“You’re all dirty,” she complained when he finally pulled back.
“An’ don’t you love it,” he teased, nipping at her ear.
“Get a room,” Alex suggested, still helping to wheel the incapacitated Watchers out.
Spike gave him a mock scowl before taking up this excellent advice and leading Buffy out of the control room.
“Try to be reachable!” Fletcher shouted after them, still irate. “We have to clear out as soon as we’re done here!”
But they were already gone.
“Er, uh…yeah,” Isabelle suddenly found all eyes turned on her now that Spike was gone, curious as to the mud and appearance through the wall, “so, you see, we were following these big shot Watcher guys that were escaping through this secret passage, and—”
“ ‘Big shot Watcher guys’?” Fletcher repeated, suddenly concerned.
She nodded. “Four of them. They fled through this tunnel, like I said. A tunnel with mud. Mud that we had to dive into to avoid getting shot, so jeez! Get your minds out to the gutter, people!”
Ajaya couldn’t help but snicker at the fact that Isabelle had actually blushed at all the suspicious looks she and Spike had received at their appearance.
“Where are they?” Fletcher demanded.
“Got away,” Isabelle said apologetically. “Like I said, they were shooting at us…and they had a car.”
“Fitzpatrick, I suppose,” Fletcher sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t see him among the captives… Very well, Isabelle, help with the clean up. I’ll get a full report from Spike later.”
Isabelle practically fled from what could easily have become a lecture.
“Got caught red-handed,” Ajaya teased as Isabelle approached. “Right, Monica?”
She got no answer.
She turned around to find that the were-jaguar had completely vanished.
“So, what’s up?” Isabelle inquired, helping Ajaya move one of the last of the Watchers.
Ajaya frowned. “Monica…” she began.
“Don’t see her,” Isabelle looked around, missing her point entirely.
“She was here just a second ago,” Ajaya insisted, “right before you said that those Watchers had gotten away.”
Isabelle frowned. “Does that mean that she’s…?” she trailed off.
“I don’t know,” Ajaya’s brow furrowed, “but I would love to know where she’s gotten off to…”
* * *
Monica was back in their jet when they arrived. Isabelle and Ajaya tried their damned best not to look at her suspiciously, but apparently they didn’t entirely succeed because Monica gave them an odd look.
“We all here?” Nicolas asked from the cockpit where he had been constrained throughout the entire battle due to the sun.
“Of course not,” Alex grumbled. “What trip would be complete without losing Spike and Buffy before we can leave?”
“In all fairness,” Nicolas felt obliged to point out, “there was that one time in Moscow…”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Isabelle,” he instructed, “you’re with me. Monica, make sure no one leaves until we get back.”
“Sure thing, chief,” she said disinterestedly, reading a magazine she’d brought along for the ride.
Alex shook his head in desperation and headed out into the rubble-strewn fertile fields of rural England, Isabelle in tow.
“OK,” he asked her, “they probably went some place familiar. So where were the two of you earlier?”
“We could do it that way,” Isabelle rolled her eyes and popped a stick of gum into her mouth, “or we could just follow the sounds of grunts and moans…”
“You can hear them?” Alex listened intently, but still couldn’t pick them up. “You’re lucky you don’t live beneath them…”
Isabelle led the way, and he followed after until even he heard the final cry of ecstasy. Things were silent for a while then. The two of them broke into a light jog and let out a shout of warning before they rounded the edge of a high stone wall.
They found the two delinquent vampires there, still wrapped in a passionate embrace but fortunately fully clothed…or, at least, as fully clothed as could be expected given the circumstances.
“God, you two are worse than teenagers!” Alex complained, grabbing Spike’s wrist and forcibly yanking him away from the former Slayer’s lips.
Buffy panted heavily, still backed up against the wall, her own clothes having now inherited the mud from Spike’s.
Spike scowled and pulled himself free of Alex’ grasp, turning back to Buffy. “Let’s go then, luv,” he said with a small smile.
She nodded and let the arm he extended wrap around her waist as they headed back to the jet. Alex and Isabelle followed behind them, lest the wayward couple make a break for it again.
“They’re not shy about the PDAs, are they?” Isabelle joked lightly when she was sure that the two vampires were far enough ahead – and too absorbed in each other – to listen.
“Overcompensation,” Alex shrugged.
“Huh?”
“They kept it secret for so long that now they have to, er…go at it in public to prove that they’re not ashamed,” he clarified.
Isabelle would have sworn that a rosy color tinged his cheeks over the stuttered word.
“Hey, go with what’s fun,” she replied with a feline smile.
He raised one eyebrow and then ran to catch up with Buffy and Spike before the Sexcapades, Take Too-Many-To-Count, could start…
Continue
Return to Round Winners
Return to Listing