The Circle of Slayers Series 25/35 Incomplete
Chapter 25: Control
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated PG-13 for violence
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
Jar’vees belongs to me. Lyrics belong to their respective owners.
Summary for Chapter 25: Spike fights an inner battle with the mysterious
sword, Sahalia.


Chapter 25: Control

“Control is the name of the game,
You really can’t go too far,
Or else you won’t be the same and
You won’t have no one else to blame.”
100 Percent – Future Sound

Monday, December 24th, 2001, 7:34 PM

Lunge. Slash. Turn. Parry. Slash

Spike went through the paces, letting his mind escape and his body guide
him. It was dark out and the waning moon had risen early into the clear,
cold sky. Silver light poured through the transparent dome roof into the
Temple. The illumination from the moon symbol in the floor provided
additional lighting as well. In this eerie double light, Sahalia’s white
metal blade seemed to glow with a soft liquid incandescence.

Sahalia was much lighter than the sword he was used too, so it had taken
some time to adjust to the feel. He preferred his heavy blade, one that he
could get some momentum behind with his powerful arms and long reach.
However, with a sword like this, it didn’t take long for him to adjust. He
found himself engrossed to the soft sigh the ivory blade made as it cleaved
the air. The sword seemed to know his every thought and respond to his every
command before he could register it in his own mind. Sahalia seemed an
extension of his body, a piece of him that had always been there. It #was#
him, he thought, bringing it above his head and spinning it effortlessly.
The light flashed off the metal as it danced before his eyes, hypnotic in
its beauty and grace. His world was the blade in his hands. Here #he# was
the master. Entranced, he gave himself up, setting himself adrift in the
simple beauty of forged steel, the feel of leather in his hands and the pull
of muscle and sinew against bone-

When he finally came back to himself, he found himself on the opposite side
of the Temple, looking outwards through the doors that led up into the
separate Temples when they appeared. He had absolutely no idea how he had
gotten there. He let his arms drop like weights to his sides as he turned
and slumped against the glass. His chest rose and fell as he gulped in
useless oxygen into his empty lungs. Funny, how he seemed to breathe all the
time now. It was actually kind of funny how all vampires seemed to breathe
even after they were dead, swallowing air as they ran or sometimes
instinctively holding their breath while diving underwater. It was like they
still believed on some subconscious level they were still alive…or longed to
be. He let his head fall back against the glass of the doors, every single
one of his muscles screaming with exertion. Sahalia hung from limp fingers
at his side.

Lifting one arm that felt like lead, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
There was a buzzing behind his eyes that signaled an incoming headache. He
wondered how long he had been ‘out of it’, staring at the sword in his hand.
To completely give yourself to something and lose yourself in the timeless
rhythm of the body. It was both exhilarating and frightening.

“That was impressive,” came a voice suddenly. He looked up to see Jar’vees
standing at the head of the stairs. The priest had brought his staff, though
still dressed in casual clothes, and was leaning on it. “Is that normal for
you, commando?”

“Is what normal for me?” Spike asked, still feeling light headed and
detached.

“For you to be so into your swordplay that you don’t even hear someone
calling your name?”

Spike’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “You were calling me? Didn’t
hear you, mate.”

“Obviously.”

“How long have you been there?”

“About half an hour. Your witch friends told me you’ve been here since
around 3:00.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. He’d been doing this for over four hours? No wonder
his arms felt like they were falling off! He brushed his hand through his
hair and blinked slowly, unable to put aside his strange, disjointed
feelings. It was like his head was wrapped in cotton wool. “I…” he said,
unable to get anything else out.

Jar’vees approached, his long staff swinging from side to side. For a
moment, the staff changed; the crescent moon melted into an ebony stone and
the long stick turned dark and black. Jar’vees’ long graying hair erased
into dirty blonde, and his lean frame widened into a muscular body. Images
flashed by to quickly for him to fully register, but the sense of danger
remained.

By the time he realized what was happening, he’d brought Sahalia up to a
guard position and stood ready to defend himself. Jar’vees froze as the
white blade stopped within a hairbreadth’s of his throat. He went pale;
Spike could see the color drain from the other man’s face in the pale
moonlight.

‘Spike,” Jar’vees said carefully, taking a step back and putting some
distance between himself and the sword point. “I think you should put that
down.” When Spike hesitated, he added, “Now.”

Staring at the blade in his hand, it took a moment for Spike to comprehend
Jar’vees’ words. All he could feel was his rage channeled through the steel
of his blade, straining towards the priest lusting for his lifeblood.
Confused, he nodded and forced his arm down. He managed to get the point in
the scabbard and sheath the white sword, but it seemed the hardest thing he
had ever done.

“Cor…sorry, mate. I don’t why I did that. I-I thought you were someone
else…” He trailed off and lowered himself to the floor, crouching above the
ivory tiles. “I feel godawful.”

Jar’vees squatted down next to the vampire and carefully laid his staff on
the floor. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t you; it was Sahalia. This is
what I was talking about last night. Sahalia is trying to control you. You
can’t let it. The White Sword is like an extension of your thoughts and
emotions. It responds to your soul, not to your mind.” He paused. “What were
you thinking of right now? You know, when you tried to slice and dice me?”

The blonde vampire looked up. “Riley…the staff…it reminded me of that
creepy staff he carried with him…the Ausi, is it?…I don’t even remember
moving my arm.”

Nodding, Jar’vees sat on the floor. “You’ve got to stay in control of the
sword at every moment that you draw it. Don’t ever let it take over you, or
it will consume you.”

Spike shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed
to get the bloody sword and just get Buffy.”

“This may sound like something off a Hallmark card, but anything worth
fighting for is going to be difficult. Now, I want you to get up and go
through whatever exercises you were doing again. This time, don’t let
Sahalia control your actions. Stay aware of yourself and your surroundings.”

“What? Now?” The vampire stared at the priest. “I’ve been doing this for
four soddin’ hours!” He was completely exhausted and didn’t even know if he
could lift the sword, let alone control it.

“So? Get up.”

Sighing heavily, Spike hauled himself to his feet. Jar’vees climbed to his,
caught up his staff and retreated to the outer perimeter of the Temple.
Drawing Sahalia, Spike dropped into a ready stance and grasped his fingers
around the hilt. He cleared his mind of all thought but of the sword. Taking
a step forward, he began his exercises.

Lunge. Slash. Turn. Parry. Slash.

As he swung the blade, he could feel it pulling him in and felt a nearly
overwhelming desire to let himself become one with the blade. It sang to him
like a siren’s call, promising peace and solitude within the steel. Now that
he was aware of it, he could feel it tugging and pulling at him. It felt
familiar to him, and yet alien at the same time, as if were holding
something that had belonged to him all his life, but was looking at it in a
way he had never thought of before. He didn’t understand how a sword, a lump
of sharp metal, could have a soul, but he didn’t need to. That was good
enough for him.

“Don’t lose yourself in it, Spike,” Jar’vees’ voice called from somewhere
outside him. “Control the sword; not the other way around.”

‘Control it’, he thought as the ivory blade sang sweetly to him. But he
could feel himself slipping. It was thrilling how the sword knew his every
whim. He couldn’t feel the ache of loneliness without Buffy, or the animal
lust he had for blood. He suddenly was incredibly aware of his surroundings
but so ignorant of it he felt like a drunk. The promise of absolute
nothingness that blade promised was like a sweet drug. If only he gave into
it-

“Control it!”

Jar’vees’ voice jolted through him like an electric shock. He finished the
turn and wrenched himself back to reality. He was somewhat frightened how
easy it was to be manipulated, so he focused to his objective until his will
was as sharp and deadly as Sahalia itself. He used the familiar pattern of
the exercise, steps and motions be knew by heart, to strengthen his defense
against the seductive croons of the blade.

Lunge. Slash. Turn. Parry. Slash.

The sword fought him at every turn, tugging at him. But he fought back,
maintaining his identity away from Sahalia’s. It was exhausting; a red haze
was clouding his vision and he was grimacing in pain by the time he reached
the end of the exercise.

He grounded to a halt and dropped to his knees, his arms falling forward
with his fingers still clenched around Sahalia’s hilt. The blade clanged on
the smooth marble floor and jarred out of his grip. How he had managed to do
that a second time, he had no idea. Never had he pushed himself so hard;
never had he felt as drained as he did right now. His entire body was
shaking from the exertion. He hung his head and closed his eyes, finding
himself drawing in great gulps of air. Grimacing, he put the heels of his
palms to his temples to relieve the throbbing pressure. The slight headache
he had felt earlier was now a full-blown migraine.

A footstep and the slight thump of a staff hitting the floor made him look
up. Jar’vees looked down at him with cold, agate eyes. “Again.”

Spike stared up at the priest. “W-what?” he asked dumbly.

“Pick up the sword and do it again.”

“You…have got…to be k-kidding…me…” he gasped.

Jar’vees picked up the sword and thrust it into Spike’s shaking hand. “Get
up.”

He tried to grasp the sword, but his fingers wouldn’t tighten around the
hilt. It lay limply across his lap. With sudden anger, Spike looked up. “Why
don’t you go and fuc-“

Jar’vees didn’t let him finish the obscenity. “Get up and fight!” He lifted
his staff and swung the sharpened tip at Spike.

Without knowing how he did it, Spike’s grip on the sword tightened and he
launched himself to his feet. His arms and legs felt like heavy lead, and
his muscles screamed in agony, but somewhere he found the will to bring the
sword up and over his head to block the blow. Steel rang as Sahalia came
down on the staff, knocking it aside. The blade scraped along the staff’s
length, throwing up sparks. Then he was forced backwards as the priest
grasped his staff in both hands and shoved hard. Quickly reversing the
staff, Jar’vees brought the razor-sharp edge of the crescent rushing towards
him.

Spike jumped backwards and countered. Sahalia flashed like lightening; the
clash of sword against staff like thunder. Jar’vees dropped back and swung
the staff again; this time at Spike’s legs. Jumping to avoid the strike,
something inside of the vampire broke free. Changing into his demon face as
he landed, he brought Sahalia around to attack the Priest. Blue eyes fixed
on green as Spike mercilessly beat the smaller man across the chamber toward
the stairs. Spike did not waver as the sword flashed through the air, quick
as death. Step by torturous step, the priest was forced to retreat, barely
keeping the sword from skewering him.

“Don’t let it take over you!” he shouted at the vampire. Sweat broke out on
his brow and he strained to keep ahead of the swift strikes and parries. He
had a longer reach with his staff, for which he was grateful – that and the
tempered steel from which it was forged. The rings jangled discordantly as
Sahalia beat down time and again on the shaft, sending agonizing jolts up
Jar’vees’ arms. “William!” he shouted at the crazed demon in front of him,
stumbling as he tried to jump over the entrance to the stairs leading down
out of the Temple. “Listen to me!” He leapt across the opening in the floor,
slipped and fell hard. He rolled and brought his staff up just in time to
see the other leap lightly across the same opening, his sword raised over
his head. All the while, those cold, hard, sapphire eyes stared impassively
out from his handsome face – a face that could have been chiseled from stone
from all the emotion it registered.

“Stop!” a voice called from behind them. Jar’vees recognized Willow’s voice
but dared not look away from the possessed man the loomed over him. “Spike!
Stop!”

“No!” Jar’vees rolled again, and Sahalia slashed down onto the marble floor
where his head had been a moment before. He scrambled to his feet, clutching
his staff in front of him and breathing hard. “Don’t touch him!” He ducked
and hurried across the chamber, luring the vampire away from the witches and
the young girl at the head of the stairs. Spike relentlessly pursued across
the smooth marble.

“What’s happening to him?” Dawn asked in distress. “Spike, please stop!”

“He’s possessed by the sword,” Jar’vees managed to gasp out. He yelped as
Sahalia nicked his arm and jerked backwards. “Dammit! We’ve got to get it
away from him!”

“Leave that to me,” Willow said. She closed her eyes and whispered in an
inconceivable language, then suddenly brought her arms in front of her. Her
eyes opened, black as pitch, as he spoke.

“Hephaestus, god of the forged,
I beseech thee to giveth your follower the power of the beast,
Ares, bringer of blood and war,
I beseech thee to giveth your follower the strength in which to defeat it,
I call upon you,
If it is your will.”

Across her hands suddenly appeared a sword, scarlet as blood. Her eyes
remained black as pitch as she grasped it in one hand. She hurried across
the chamber and intercepted the sword as it flashed towards the Priest
again. “Get out of the way, Jar’vees,” she ordered in a strangely impassive
voice. The two swords clashed but Willow held on with a superhuman strength.

Jar’vees wasted no time in obeying the witch. He got up onto his feet and
ran back towards the stairs to join Tara and Dawn. Together, they watched
Spike and Willow battle. Willow seemed to have a Slayer’s strength, and
fought against the demon. Spike was like a rabid animal, with every
impulsion to kill. They fought, swords flashing red and white. Yet, the
white sword was still more quicker than the red, and Spike soon drove Willow
back against the wall of the Temple, pinning her there with his sword raised
ready to strike the final blow. Willow slumped against the glass and dropped
her sword. Her eyes returned back to their natural green and she panted
heavily; her spell had made her exhausted and had burned her out. She stared
up at her friend’s unseeing eyes as the white blade whistled downwards-

Dawn screamed. Tara shouted out her lover’s name, her eyes beginning to
brim with tears. Jar’vees started forward, his eyes wide with terror. “No-“
they both froze as Willow raised her hands and gripped Sahalia’s blade just
above the hilt and wrenched it out of Spike’s hands.

The effect was instantaneous. Spike dropped to his knees, limp as a rag
doll. Willow leaned against the glass wall, dropping Sahalia onto the floor,
her hand pressed to her shoulder where the sword had hit her. Dawn and Tara
rushed across the chamber toward them.

“Willow!” Tara cried, gently pulling her hand away. “You’re hurt!” There
was a long, red line across her shoulder under her torn sweater.

“It’s just a scratch, hon,” she said, though she winced when her lover
touched it. “One benefit of being possessed by a god.” She looked down at
the sword lying beside her. That didn’t stop her from letting Tara cast a
healing spell on it.

“What kind of stupid thing was that?” Jar’vees demanded. “He could have
killed you!”

Willow looked up at him and glared. “What kind of stupid thing were you
doing, fighting a vampire? He could have killed #you#!”

“I-“ Jar’vees took a deep breath and looked down at the vampire still
slumped on his knees nearby. His duster was slumped against the wall beside
him, where he probably had taken it off before he practiced with his sword.
“I knew he was good, but I didn’t think he was #that# good.”

“He is. Now what happened here? Why were you two fighting?” Tara asked.
Dawn went to Spike, brushing his slick hair back and speaking quietly to
him. His demonic face seemed to slip away of it’s own accord, like the demon
inside knew the party was over. Tara fixed Jar’vees with a stony glare. “I
thought you were going to teach him how to control Sahalia.”

“That’s what I was doing! Or it’s what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m new to
this too you know! Well, I never expected that he would be so easily
manipulated. It’s like the two of them are one being.”

“Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?”

“No. Spike has got to learn to keep himself separate from the sword; to
exert his will above his blade’s. What happened today will happen every time
he tries to use that thing unless he learns…he was exhausted when
he…changed. I hate to think what could have happened if he had been fully
rested.”

Willow shivered. She wouldn’t want to meet a determined, rested Spike with
that sword in his hands. “All right. But I think that’s enough for now.”
Indeed, it looked as if the man in question was already unconscious but had
just forgotten to fall over.

Jar’vees nodded and rolled his shoulders. He was certainly gonna feel
#that# in the morning. “You think? Let’s get him downstairs.”

Willow pushed herself up with Tara’s help. “Don’t ever try to do that alone
again. If I had known you were going kamikaze on us, I wouldn’t have let you
go up there.” She moved stiffly to Spike’s side and took her arm while
Jar’vees did the same with the other side. Together, they lifted the vampire
between them. Dawn and Tara followed behind quietly. The young brunette
carried his duster in one arm and gingerly held Sahalia in the other.

“Don’t worry.” Jar’vees grimaced as his sore muscles were jarred from
lifting the vampire. “You are with me next time, with your little voodoo
Linda Blair magic.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or terrified,” Willow said, “That
#hurt#. And it’s not that much fun to be possessed either. A lot of
ookiness. Please tell me that won’t happen every time Spike uses that
thing.” They entered Jar’vees’ home and turned towards Spike’s room.

“If they do, then defeating Riley will be the least of your problems. And
you’ll have to cross it off the ‘to do’ list. I just hope Cujo here is
strong enough to take Sahalia on.” Carefully, they laid him onto the pallet
and straightened him out. Dawn and Tara pulled off their friend’s boots and
covered him with a blanket. Jar’vees and the witches were already on their
way out of the room but Dawn lingered a moment, carefully laying the
shimmering white sword and his duster on the table. She bent over her
protector and brushed her hand through his hair.

“You’re strong enough, aren’t you Spike?” she whispered. “You’ll beat this
creepy sword and then we’ll get Buffy back. I know you will. Plus, it’s
Christmas. And good things always happen at Christmas.”

Squeezing her shoulder in a sisterly manner, she got up to go. Suddenly,
changing her mind she sat down beside him on the cot. “Okay…I’m not very
good at his, but you’re knocked out, so you can’t do anything about it.”

She cleared her throat.

“Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg…”

The Circle of Slayers Series 26/35 Incomplete
Chapter 26: Open the Door
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated PG
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
Jar’vees belongs to me. I love feedback, by the way.
Summary for Chapter 26: It’s a Merry Christmas when the witches find Buffy,
but Spike finds himself changing and Riley gets suspicious.


Chapter 26: Open the Door

Tuesday, December 25th, 2001, 10:52 AM

    Dawn exited the room in which Spike was sleeping and quietly shut the door.
Jar’vees and the Wiccans looked up as she crossed the room to join them at
the table.

    “He’s still sleeping,” she reported glumly.

    “Still?” Tara asked incredulously, “It’s been a day already.”

    “I know.” Dawn sighed.

    “Possessing Sahalia takes a great toll, both physically and mentally, on
the person who wields it.” Jar’vees said, as if he were talking from an
encyclopedia. Willow briefly thought of Giles, Xander and Anya. She wondered
if they were holding up well.

    “So he’ll probably be out for a while, huh?” Dawn asked, fingering the
ornaments on the tiny little artificial tree Jar’vees had brought with him
yesterday.

    “Cheer up, Dawnie,” Willow said, taking out a gift from her bag, “Here,
open your present. It’s from Tara and me.”

    “But I was going to open my present when Spike was here.”

    “But he might not even wake up today, hon. Come on, for me?”

    “Okay…” Dawn opened her present and gasped. Inside was a beautiful jewelry
set, with green and gold earrings, choker and bracelet. “Wow! Thank you so
much you guys! Ooh! Now it’s your turn!”

    The company eagerly opened their presents. Willow received a new book of
spells from Tara and a little striped canvas bag from Dawn. Tara smiled when
she found out Willow had bought her matching gold rings that they both
shared. Dawn gave her some incense sticks, lavender, lilac and rose. Even,
Jar’vees got a present; a little telescope that he could observe the stars
with. But the joy was laced with a hint of worry and agitation, as every
once in a while they would stare at Spike’s door to see if he would come
out.

    After an awkward moment of silence, Willow angrily sighed. “That stupid
sword…will it even do what it’s supposed to do?”

    “And what’s that?” Jar’vees asked.

    “For one thing, can it protect Spike from any magical attacks Riley may
throw at him?”

    The Priest nodded. “It has limited protection capabilities, yes. He won’t
be invincible, but combined with his natural speed and vampire abilities,
combined with the power Sahalia will give him, Riley will be lucky if he
even touches him.”

    “You’re sure?” Dawn asked. “Riley can do lots of things with that staff of
his. He threw me across the room last time.”

    “What do you want me to say, princess?” Jar’vees answered, “That it won’t
work? I’m telling you what I think in my very valid opinion from what I’ve
seen. Of course, this is all provided he can control the sword.”

    “What about the other properties?” Tara asked, “It’s supposed to negate
dimensional portals. That will be the most important aspect of the sword. We
need to keep Riley from popping in and out of dimensions.”

    “Don’t worry, that’s pretty much the reason why Sahalia was forged in the
first place.”

    “Of course I’m worried. Spike is our friend. How does it do it? Will you be
able to teach Spike in time?”

    Jar’vees held up his hand and nodded his head. “Calm down, calm down.
There’s nothing to learn. Whenever Sahalia is unsheathed, all portals in the
area will close.”

    “That’s a relief.” Shaking her head, Willow ran a hand through her soft,
red hair. “Still – I’m sorry, you guys, but I’m beginning to think that this
stupid sword isn’t worth it. I mean, I want Buffy back, but can’t we fight
him another way? Sahalia can’t be the only way to fight the Ausi. Spike
spoke of a price; that he was changing. What if he loses his sanity? I don’t
think Buffy will be very happy about that when she comes back.”

    “There’s no purpose in feeling sorry over things you can’t change. That
won’t help Spike or Buffy. Right now, we should help work towards helping
him with his goal.”

    Willow bristled at his words. “Then what do you think all this is?” she
snapped. She waved her hand over the table, indicating the books and notes
she was trying to modify to find Buffy.

    “Willow…” Tara said quietly, trying to calm her.

    Holding up his hands, Jar’vees gestured placatingly at Willow. “I didn’t
mean it like that. God, you guys are so touchy,” he muttered, “This spell of
yours; what have you managed to do with it? Do you know where Buffy is?”

    Tara nodded. “That much we do know. We only need to find a way to boost the
spell’s power to break through the dimensions so we can get her.”

    “All right. Can you perform the spell without Spike?”

    “Why not?” Willow replied with a touch of surprise, “We have Buffy’s hair.
That will be more than enough power to boost the spell. What do you think,
Tara?”

    She nodded. “We came very close last time. It just might work.” She opened
the book in which she had stored Spike’s treasure and carried it to the
chalk circle. She placed it gently in the center then joined Willow outside
it.

    Dawn and Jar’vees positioned themselves to one side so they could watch. In
unison, both witches recited the words to the spell, each performing the
required motions in perfect synchronization. The priest and the girl
listened to the words, watched the power flow from the Wiccans into the
circle, gather at the proper points and infuse the lines and sigils. Soon
the entire symbol glowed with an eerie light. When the light became so
bright the two could hardly stand to look at it, the light shot upwards to
form a glowing pillar.

    Shading his eyes, Jar’vees stared in amazement. He’d never seen anything
like this before. It was incredible. Inside the area delineated by the
circle, the air began to thicken and curdle. Space twisted and warped as the
spell attempted to break down the dimensional walls. Dawn and he caught
brief images of an impossibly enormous castle. A castle that defied physical
laws, seemingly to stretch forever in every direction yet occupying little
space.

    The view shifted into darkness. He caught a glimpse of a girl with sun
blonde hair. Dawn was about to call out, but she was quickly replaced by the
image of a blonde man holding a staff tipped by a large ebony ruby. The
Ausi. The man seemed to be looking to the side, and as they watched, his
head came up and his eyes met with Jar’vees. A chill ran down his back and
he instinctively reached back for his own staff leaning against the wall
nearby. The blonde man in the portal raised his hand and snapped his fingers
– and the portal collapsed.

    The backlash caused by the sudden collapse knocked both Tara and Willow off
their feet. Their twin cries of pain seemed to wake up Jar’vees and he
hurried to the fair-haired witch’s side and helped her up. Dawn stayed where
she was, staring blankly ahead of her.

    “Are you okay?” Jar’vees asked.

    Tara winced and brought a hand to her head. “What happened?”

    He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could explain that for
me. One minute the portal is there, happy and free, and the next some blonde
kid appears. Then poof, it’s all gone.”

    Both witches froze at his words. “Riley,” Willow whispered as they
exchanged a worried look.

    “He was gonna find us sooner or later…” Dawn said quietly, still staring
off into space.

    “I-I was hoping to avoid him for as long as possible,” Tara said, while
Willow cast a worried look at Dawn. Tara looked at Jar’vees. “We have to
hurry. There’s no telling what he’ll do now that he knows what we’re doing.”

    “Or what he’ll do to Buffy.” Dawn added.

    There was an uncomfortable silence. Willow came up to the brunette and
gently took her hand.

    “Dawnie? What’s wrong?”

    “Did you see her, Willow? She looked so…scared.”

    “No…I didn’t see her. You saw her?”

    “She’s up there with him. Riley…he’s…I don’t know, he’s…cold. What did he
do to her, Willow?” Tears began to leak down Dawn’s cheeks.

    “Shh…it’s okay, Dawn.” Willow answered, brushing away her tears, “We know
where she is. We can get her, Dawn. We’re so close. You just have to stay
brave for us until then, okay?”

    Dawn shakily nodded her head, but her tears did not stop. Willow rested her
forehead against hers in silence, listening to the young girl’s whimpers.
Dawn had been so brave the last month. She had hardly cried at all, except
at the beginning. But now, as she could feel her shaking, she knew that she
was scared almost to death. And Willow realized that she was just as scared.

    “Can he find us here?” Tara asked.

    Jar’vees shook his head. “Doubtful. This whole area is balanced between
dimensions…” His voice trailed off and a sudden light infused his face.

    “What? What is it?” Willow asked, looking up.

    “I am such an idiot!” the Priest exclaimed, “This whole place is
dimensionally transcendental – the walls between realities here are paper
thin! It’s thinnest in the Temple, around the doors-“

    Willow grinned. “Meaning that it will be easier to break through if we
perform the spell there!” She was so excited that she took both of Dawn’s
hands in hers and squeezed tightly.

    Dawn looked from one to the other, her once somber face now filled with
hope. “Will it work?”

    “I’m positive.” Jar’vees answered, “And if it doesn’t work #now#, I’m sure
it will in…” He paused and thought a moment. “…five days.”

    Willow turned back to him, still holding Dawn’s hands. “Why then?”

    “There are four times a month when the dimensional walls are closest. Full
and new moons, as you know, for the Temples of Light and Shadows, but also
on each halfway point on the waxing and waning half-moons.”

    “I hope we don’t have to wait that long for it to work,” Tara said. “I
think we all agree that we want to get this horrible mess behind us.”

    Jar’vees rubbed his chin. “Actually, it would be best to wait. Riley will
probably be waiting for you to try it again and who knows what plan he has.
Not to mention that Spike still needs to learn how to control Sahalia. A
week isn’t a lot of time, but hopefully with his skill, he’ll be able to
take out Riley with it.”

    The redhead reluctantly nodded. “I just hope Spike thinks the same way.
God, I hate this…it’s already been a month. We can’t wait forever. I just
want Buffy back.” Dawn squeezed her friend’s hand and Willow smiled back.

    ‘Had it really been that long?’ Willow wondered. It felt much longer than
that…she missed her so much. Sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe,
she was so scared.

    “It’s more than likely that time doesn’t run the same way where Buffy is
than here. What could be a month for us could only be a few days for them.”

    “Maybe that’s why Buffy hasn’t come back by herself,” Dawn said. Her voice
and eyes were filled with fragile hope, desperately clinging to all that was
familiar. The poor girl had been through so much, she couldn’t afford to
lose her sister again. Willow squeezed her hand in comfort.

    Tara nodded to Dawn, “Let’s hope so. Jar’vees, I think Willow and I will
get to work setting up the circle and preparing the spell in the Temple
right away. Is that all right with you?”

    “Fine with me. I’ll go open the doors for you.” Picking up his staff,
Jar’vees watched while Tara gathered the lock of Buffy’s hair off the floor
and with great care placed it inside a book for safekeeping. Willow gathered
up her notes and chalk with Dawn’s help and together the four of them headed
up to the Temple.

~

    Spike woke slowly and reluctantly. He opened his eyes to find himself in
dimly lit darkness, the room lit by one solitary candle that stood on the
table nearby. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was until he
attempted to lift his arm to get up. He involuntarily groaned as the muscles
contracted painfully, then memory came rushing back, bringing him as much
mental anguish as his exhausted limbs.

    “Bloody hell…” he said to himself, trying to sit up. It took several tries,
but eventually he managed to get up. He sat with his elbows resting on his
knees and stared into the darkness.

    Levering himself up after a few minutes or so, he moved stiffly to where
his pack lay and pulled out a new change of clothing. He noticed that he was
still wearing his from yesterday, now rumpled and torn. Then, not bothering
to put on his boots or get his duster, he went off in search of a bath to
wash away his exhausted mind and soak his aching, stiff body.

~

    Feeling somewhat better, Spike padded through the tunnels to the main
living area. He found it empty and quiet. Wondering where the others had
gone, he wandered over to the hearth and peeked inside the covered baskets
there. He felt hollow inside and his demon growled painfully as he found a
basket with a large bag of blood someone had left for him. He grabbed a bag
and ripped it open with his teeth and drank it down. He discovered some
fried chicken and a bowl filled with ears of roasted corn. Helping himself,
he sat down at the table and quickly devoured the food.

    The empty feeling inside of him now taken care of, he went back to his room
and grabbed his boots and duster, pulled them on, and buckled Sahalia around
his waist. Then he went off in search for the others.

    He found them in the first place he looked: The Temple. The four of them
were gathered around the doors, which were standing open. The sun was high
and shining down into the chamber, causing Spike to wince and fall back into
the familiar shadow in the stairs.

    At the sound of his footsteps, the four looked up. “Spike!” Dawn cried,
jumping up to greet him, “Merry Christmas!” He grinned weakly at the small
girl and ruffled her hair like he always did with her. It was only a simple
act, however, no feeling of love or friendship involved. Disturbed by that,
he put his arm around her shoulder to make up for it and gestured towards
the others.

    “What’s going on here?”

    “They’re preparing the spell that will take us to where Buffy is,” Dawn
answered.

    “Why here? Why not in a less…UV friendly place?”

    “We tried it earlier while you were sleeping and it almost worked. Only
Riley managed to close the portal before it opened all the way,” Tara
explained as the others got up and headed toward Dawn and Spike. “It appears
that this Temple is built on a place that is dimensionally transcendental
where the walls between them are thin. But it’s thinnest around the doors
here. So we’re going to use that to our advantage the next time we cast the
spell. Between the bond you share with Buffy and her hair as a physical
link, we should be able to create a doorway that will allow us to pass
through into her dimension.”

    Spike blinked, not comprehending any of it, save one thing. “Riley? He was
here?” His hand tightened on Sahalia’s hilt and his voice turned to cold
steel.

    “Not here,” Jar’vees said, “In the portal. He closed it before we could
finish.” He looked at the others. They were looking at him, waiting for him
to finish. “Which…is why we’re going to wait for the half-moon before we try
the spell again.”

    The vampire’s eyes snapped over to Jar’vees. “What the bloody hell are you
talking about? That’s another week away! I’m not going to leave Buffy there
another week!”

    “Please listen to me, Spike,” Willow said, stepping forward and taking him
by the arms. The vampire looked down and fixed the witch with an icy glare.
“I know what you’re feeling, believe me. I’m feeling it too. I want her back
so much, it’s tearing me up inside. But if we try the spell again now, Riley
will be waiting for us and he will kill you, me, Tara and Dawn if he has to.
If we wait, we can catch him off-guard.”

    “You don’t understand. I could feel her there. He was hurting her. I can’t
leave her there.”

    “He won’t hurt her. He wants her alive. Riley is still in love with Buffy
and right now that’s the only thing that’s keeping her around.”

    “But…I can’t…” Spike’s voice cracked with pain and longing. “How can you
ask me to just leave her there when I can get her out?”

    Tara took a deep breath and walked up to him. “Time doesn’t move the same
here than it does in other dimensions, like in the Temples. How long do you
think your battle for Sahalia took?”

    “An hour, hour-and-a-half. But I don’t see how that-“

    “You were up there for nearly the whole night our time. It might be a month
for us, but only a few days for Buffy.”

    The blonde vampire digested this. “But it could just as easily move faster
there than for us, right?” Reluctantly, Tara nodded. “What if it’s been
longer for her?”

    “Spike,” Dawn said, placing her small hand on his arm, “Buffy wouldn’t have
wanted you to rush in when you’re not ready. I know that it sucks. I hate it
more than you’ll ever know. But you need to practice with your sword and
learn how it works. If you don’t, everything we’ve gone through, will mean
nothing if Riley wins.”

    Spike hesitated for a moment. Man, the Bit was tough. He knew if there was
one person in the whole world who would be more pissed off about his it
would be Dawn. The girl was a lot braver than people gave her credit for.

    “All right, then. If I have to use this damn sword, I guess there’s no time
to learn than the present, huh?”

    Jar’vees nodded, his tarnished graying hair flashing in the sunlight he
stood in, “Sure.” He fetched his staff from where it leaned against the wall
nearby. “We’re going to have to go downstairs. It won’t be much fun if
practice is cut short with an extreme case of sunburn. You guys can come if
you want, but be sure to stay back. Willow, I’m counting on you to step in
if things get out of hand again.”

    “I’ll be here,” the redhead said with a nod.

    Spike looked from one to the other, “What do you mean ‘out of hand’?”

    “You nearly killed me last night,” Jar’vees answered.

    “If you hadn’t been so damn tired and didn’t have a chip you would have
killed me,” Willow added. “You mean you don’t remember? I guess it’s like Oz
when he’s a wolf; you change and you’re gone.”

    There was nothing the vampire could do but stare. Because he didn’t feel a
damn thing. He didn’t feel sorry or angry at all. It was like he was numb.
The only feeling he did was surprise that he couldn’t feel anything. While
the others stared at him, he decided that he better say something before
this turned into an interrogation. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, “Red. I
didn’t know-“

    The witch held up her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m tougher than I
look. The Powerpuff girls ain’t got nothing on me. You should have seen
yourself, though, you were almost like that guy from the Matrix for a
second. Now go learn how to use that stupid sword, so we can get Buffy and
go home. I’m getting tired of all this snow.”

    Spike nodded and turned to Jar’vees. “What do I do first, Jeeves?”

    “That’s Jar’vees.”

~

    Lifting his head, the former soldier of the Initiative, farm boy of Iowa
and now holder of the most awesome power of the universe stared at the space
directly in front of him. So, they had found Buffy. He knew they would try
and more than likely find her, but not this fast.

    He rubbed his chin as he turned away and paced through the dark corridors.
Although he wasn’t worried about keeping them from interfering, this didn’t
bode well. This was the Scooby Gang after all, and even without their
beloved Slayer, they were someone to watch out for. He’d glimpsed the two
witches and Buffy’s little sister, but not the dumb dead blonde. Certainly,
he would have been there, wouldn’t he? He supposed it was too much to hope
that Spike had either given up or done himself in.

    And there was also the question of that priest guy with the staff. Just who
was he? And how did he play in this little game?

    Knowing they would probably try again, Spike increased the strength of the
barrier that protected his private playground. It wasn’t much for now, but
let them try to get through that with a stupid summoning spell. Even if they
did, he would be waiting for them. And this time he would take care of all
of them.

    Permanently.