The Circle of Slayers Series 13/35 Incomplete
Chapter 13: Deception
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon. Yadda
yadda yadda.
Summary for Chapter 13: Buffy explores her new world and questions herself,
Riley and the mysterious man in the long black coat.


Chapter 13: Deception

    Riley wandered the labyrinthine corridors he had created in his little
pocket dimension, thinking that the gloomy atmosphere matched his mood
perfectly. He could feel Buffy up ahead quite clearly, but he did not seek
her out. By the relaxed and steady pulse of her essence that he could feel
through the dark wood of his staff she would probably be sleeping. Why he
did not just go get her, he did not know.

    He pushed down the disappointment he had felt when she had callously cried
that she did not belong with him. It reminded him of times not that long
ago. But how could she feel that way? Her memories of her life were gone –
and she sure as hell wouldn’t be able to remember that bleached undead
moron. He had made sure of that.

    Or was it more than that? Had she remembered Spike or was she simply
freaked out from losing her memory? Had she even remembered #him#?

    Clasping his hands behind his back, he wondered once more why he was doing
this. Why was this fair warrior still so important to him? Why did he still
love her? He had known, before Ausi, that they would never ever have a
chance again together. But he knew all along, as he left on the helicopter,
as it landed in the dark jungles and as he slaughtered monster after
monster, that he needed her. He loved her. And he knew he was: he had loved
her from the first moment he saw her even though it didn’t seem that way at
the time. But he also knew that Buffy would never have him back, he wasn’t
dark enough, wasn’t strong enough. She needed a warrior, a killer. She
didn’t say it, but he knew it was true. Angel and Spike were more than good
examples. But Riley wasn’t a killer, Riley was regular Joe-Schmo. That was
the only thing Buffy knew about him. And there were more than enough risks
to kidnap her. Buffy was smart, as were her friends, and she was not a toy
to be played with.

    So why was he doing this? He paced the dark corridor as he pondered the
question. Why didn’t he just force Buffy to bend to his will? He could do
that, he knew. With his newfound strength, he could do anything he wanted.
It would be so easy and then she could be his…

    But then she wouldn’t be Buffy. She would be only a hollow shell of her
former self, drained of her strength and spirit. And that’s what he had
always desired from her. Her fire, her vitality. It drew him like a moth to
a flame. He wanted her to give that fire to him, freely, the way she had
before. The way she had given it so freely to that cold, dead lump of a
vampire.

    The soldier’s mouth twisted. How could she lower herself to be beneath him?
Spike was nothing more than a twisted maniac stained with blood and death.
He didn’t deserve to hold her and love her when they both knew what he
really was.

    He paused and composed himself as he realized he was trembling with rage.
Riley took a deep breath to calm himself and smoothed his hair back. He
looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing the clothes he had
worn to the party. It was no longer stained and stiffened with blood, but it
was torn from the wound the vampire had given him. With a wave of his staff
he changed into casual garb, reminiscent of the former Riley with a red
plaid button down shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He smoothed down
his khakis and fixed his belt with a sigh. The change alone did wonders for
restoring his calm. He turned his mind back toward the question of exactly
why he was doing this.

    The Ex-Initiative soldier paced the dark hallway just outside of the room
the Slayer was hiding. Why was he doing this indeed? Besides the fact that
forcing her would take away what it was that drew him to her, he realized
that he wanted her to give him what he wanted freely and accept what he was
offering her. Not even in the powerful state he was now, he could not derive
much pleasure from that.

    He would make her understand, somehow, that what he was doing was for her
own good. That he was doing this from preventing her to make a horrible
mistake. A mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Stopping
in mid-pace, he smiled to himself. And the best time to start that…was now.
Wrapping reality around himself, he stepped through the wall and into the
room which Buffy had taken refuge.

    She was still asleep, huddled against the back wall covering herself with
as much of her small black dress as she could. Her hair, messed from their
aborted lovemaking session, hung in soft ringlets around her face. It had
been so long since he had seen her like this, her face unguarded and soft.
He longed to reach out and touch her face and gave into it, softly caressing
her cheek with one hand.

    His touch woke her. Buffy blinked and looked up at him dumbly as her mind
remained firmly in the clutches of sleep. Then with a start, she screeched
and tried to claw herself away from him. She scrambled away until her back
hit the door where she pushed herself to a standing position.

    “Get the hell away from me,” she growled, a dangerous glow in her hazel
eyes. Her hand fumbled for the doorknob behind her.

    Leaning forward, Riley placed one hand on the door and leaned his weight on
it, “I’m not going to hurt you, Buffy,” he purred, close to her ear.

    She shrank away from him. “Touch me and I’ll kill you,” she whimpered with
much more confidence than she felt. He grinned, sensing her fear and
agitation. They tasted so good. He glanced downward to take her figure in
and Buffy blushed angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at
him.

    The soldier raised his hand and made it as if he was to stroke her cheek.
She flinched away from him and he froze, hand poised in front of you. He
sighed and stepped back. “Won’t you at least listen to what I have to say?”
he asked in a soft, low voice.

    “Is it worth my time?” she asked, suspicious.

    His enigmatic grin returned, “That depends on you. Ah!” he held up a finger
before she could do more than glare. “But I know it will help you with your
problem. All you have to do is take my hand – and I’ll show you.” He held
out his hand to her.

    She looked from his face to the hand he held out. Against the gloom of the
dark surroundings, Riley’s hand seemed strangely out of place. The hands
were hardened and calloused from hard work, but they were soft at the same
time. A faint feeling of familiarity and comfort came to her as she stared
at them. As she continued to stare at his hands, they seemed to glow white
against the black room, a pure incandescent light that promised so many
beautiful things. All she had to do was put her hands in his and her
nightmare would be over. Hypnotized by the soft glow, she reached out to
take his hand, when something glinted against her black satin glove.

    The world tilted. The white glow faded as the golden light replaced it. The
light of his glove had been beautiful but it was artificial and hollow. The
golden glint was like sunlight breaking through a sea of dark clouds. She
stared at the new source of light, the band on her wrist.

    An internal chill reached her. Whether real, imagined or psychic, she
couldn’t tell. But she knew she’d nearly fallen into his trap.

    Reaching behind her, she found the doorknob and wrapped her fingers around
it. “It almost worked,” she told him, “but don’t think I’ll fall for your
little tricks again.” With that, she twisted the knob, stepped aside as she
opened the door and slipped quickly away. A sound of a faint click and he
was alone in the room.

    Riley’s face and body was impassive as he stood silently in the room after
she left. He stood there for countless minutes, watching the closed door in
front of him. Confusion gripped him. How was she resisting him? Even as a
Slayer, she should not have the strength to overpower the Ausi, and even now
she was just Buffy with no knowledge of her former powers and friends.

    An eyebrow twitched and his fist clenched as he let it fall to his side. He
was just going to have to try harder. Because she #would# be his. Silently,
he wrapped the space around him with a wave of his staff and disappeared.

~

    More dark hallways. Buffy struck out with her fist and hit the wall in
frustration. A small crack appeared in the wall and she stared at her aching
hand in wonder. She shouldn’t have the strength to do that. But she decided
to let it pass, her strength would not help her get out of this place right
now and she had more pressing matters to consider. How could this place just
go on without an end? She’d been running now for…she had lost track long
ago. She was hungry and tired and there was only weak dim lights on the wall
to illuminate her path. She feared that they would wink out and she would be
left alone in total darkness. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in
here in pitch dark.

    She stopped and leaned against the wall, slowing her ragged breathing.
Hopelessly she slumped to the floor and leaned her head back. “I would do
anything for some food, clothes and one hot shower…” she mumbled as her
stomach growled in response.

    Before the faint echoes of her voice died away, the wall in front of her
shimmered and wavered. She levered herself upwards and stared at it in
fascination as the walls shifted and melted. The black stone crawled into
the shape of a set of double doors twice her height. They solidified and
swung open.

    Suspiciously, Buffy stared into the darkness beyond. The man Riley was
nowhere to be seen, so she wandered inside. The doors suddenly closed behind
her and in a blind panic she turned around and pushed against them. They
opened easily under her touch and she stood back, dumbfounded. She realized
that she was not going to be trapped inside and some deep instinct told her
that she could leave whenever she wanted without trouble. She closed the
doors once again and began to go further into the room. The shadows were
thick here, and she could hardly see anything around her.

    Using her hands and limited eyesight to guide her, she soon reached a large
piece of furniture. Peering through the dark, she saw that it was a long,
black table with a long red runner down the center of the wood. There were
no chairs set around it, however. Encouraged to explore further, Buffy used
her hand on the table to guide her down the length.

    About halfway down, lights suddenly flared out of nowhere. She grimaced and
covered her eyes with a hand. She tensed, ready for Riley to come and she
blinked hard to get use to the sudden light. But he was nowhere to be seen.
It was not a surprise. She knew deep down that she would not be disturbed.

    She looked around her to see a small room with a door half ajar. She
cautiously approached it and sighed happily when she saw a scarlet bathtub
in the room. At first, she was afraid that Riley would find her if she
bathed…but she knew he wouldn’t. And the temptation to wipe away the grime
of sleep and sweat was too much. She peeled off her clothes and turned on
the tap to hot. She took off the band only to take off her gloves.

~

    As she dried herself off with a towel lying on the rack, she opened a
drawer to find a fresh set of clothes for her to wear, neatly folded. She
took them out and inspected them. There was a comfortable peach sleeveless
shirt, a pair of faded boot-cut jeans and some simple navy flip-flops. She
creased her brow thoughtfully as she realized this was probably something
she would wear on a warm spring day or maybe a picnic. She shook her head
and slipped them on, quietly leaving the bathroom.

    As she walked into the room, her eyes caught the table and she saw what was
spread on it for her. Her mouth immediately started watering; she hadn’t
eaten for so long. A full course meal was laid out and just waiting for her
to eat it.

    Buffy backed away from the table. This had to be some sort of trap. She
shook her head and went to turn around, but the rich smell of spices and
salt stopped her dead in her tracks. She was so hungry and she would have to
eat sometime. And he hadn’t intruded on her when she was in the bathtub, so
why would he now? She looked back toward the table warily, waiting for Riley
to just come out of nowhere to no avail. She realized that one chair had
been set for her at the head and she pulled it out and sat down. Finally,
her aching stomach devoured her reason and she began to eat.

    What seemed like mere minutes later, she leaned back and sighed with
satisfaction. The food was gone and her stomach was now comfortably full.
But after the euphoria passed she remembered where she was and her paranoia
returned. Cautiously, she got up and started exploring the room further. The
lighting was stronger now and it illuminated through the piercing gloom,
still bordering the walls and corners. She wandered through the room, and
found that the wall opposite the doors through which she had entered wasn’t
a plain wooden wall as before. Thick drapes, the colour of dried blood, hung
against the wall. Curious as to what was on the other side, she pulled them
aside and found a set of glass doors. They were the first windows she’d seen
in this place, and her spirits lifted as she stared through them. Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. The darkness outside reflected the light of the room,
casting her reflection onto the glass. For the first time she saw herself:
large, hazel eyes, honey-blonde hair, fair skin. She placed a hand to her
face and let it touch her cheek as if to confirm she was really there. As
she did, she saw the light glint off the band on her wrist.

    She transferred her attention from her reflection to the band she wore.
What was so special about it? There was definitely something important about
it. She remembered the comfort she felt whenever she touched it, Riley’s
singed fingers when he had tried to take it from her and the way it had
saved her from his trap only a couple hours before. She could feel something
radiating from it, a deep power that she could not define. But the feel of
it gave her a sense of purpose. But a purpose to do what she didn’t know.

    Closing her fingers into a fist, she reached for the handle of the doors
and turned it, fully expecting it to be locked. Surprisingly, the door
opened and swung outward. Looking through, Buffy quickly grabbed a light
sphere from the wall with one hand. It seemed to be a balcony of sorts, made
of the same black stone as the rest of the place. The walls were very thick
and prevented her from seeing the sky.

    With a sigh, she stepped through the doors and out onto the balcony. As she
looked above her, she gasped in amazement and fear. The sky was a pitch
black and was filled with celestial lights, either red or gold, that
collided, split and danced in a frighteningly beautiful light show. She
watched in awe for some time before she turned her attention downwards.

    She stepped up to the balustrade and looked over only to pull back
immediately, her heart racing. Taking a deep breath for strength, she leaned
over again and took a better look. There seemed to be no ground below, only
a sheer black wall fading away into nothingness. She looked up at the
technicolored sky and back down again. She shivered inwardly.

    Turning around, she took in the structure in which she was trapped. Again,
she gasped and sat down hard on the cold floor. The castle was enormous,
rising far and featureless into the sky. Stone wall undulated along either
side of the balcony, stretching away into vanishing points on either side.
There was no way to get out.

      Buffy leaned back against the stone balustrade. Whatever this place was,
it wasn’t natural. She felt cold dread form in the pit of her stomach, but
it was replaced by thoughts of the man in the coat. She knew he was real,
whoever he was. How was he going to find her? Buffy put her head in her
hands and concentrated on the brief image of her face she had glimpsed. The
look of him brought a feeling of serenity and belonging and she held onto it
as long as she could, but strange questions and feeling invaded her mind.
How had he contacted her? It felt as natural as the sunset yet it was so
terrifyingly foreign.

    As she thought of the man with the eyes as pale as ice, the band on her
wrist suddenly warmed. Staring down at it, she stared at the gold glow lit
up by the celestial lights above. The warmth cruelly and suddenly
disappeared. Had she imagined it? She shook her head, still in shock. No,
the band had grown warm when she thought of him and left when she stopped.
She had to feel that warmth again.

    Taking a deep breath, she leaned her head back up against the balustrade
and pulled up the image of his face. Peroxide blonde hair, cunning smile,
charming British accent…She felt her whole self go warm at the thought of
him and she knew then that he was the connection. She felt herself know him
and love him. The band on her finger grew warmer, some strange sort of force
flooding into her body.

    Something deep inside answered the power in her body, rising up and
entwining in it. Her eyes flew open, but instead of seeing the smooth black
walls of the impossible castle, she could feel the presence and spirit of
the man she was seeking. Her heart leap for joy. #It’s Buffy!#  she cried
out.

    He reached out towards her almost sluggishly, as if not really believing
she was there. There was a moment’s hesitation, then she was suffused of
feelings of love, relief and euphoria. #Buffy! Where are you, luv?#

    She didn’t know, so she tried to send him the image, the feeling of where
she was. Terror greeted the image and she reached out towards him. His
confusion and helplessness filled her, and she sent #other place#. It was
all she could do. With a strangled sob she realized the link was growing
weaker and weaker by the moment.

    More confusion, but he tried to reassure her. #I’ll find you, luv, whatever
it takes# A pause. #I love you, Buffy#

    Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. It was true; this
man loved her more than life itself. And she knew then that she loved him.
She sent that thought down the link as it broke apart, slipping away as
quickly as it had come.

    “I love you…” she whispered to herself and the darkness.



 

The Circle of Slayers Series 14/35 Incomplete
Chapter 14: Departure
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated PG-13
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon. Yadda
yadda yadda. Archibald the Pytho Demon belongs to me. Lyrics belong to their
rightful owners.
Summary for Chapter 14: Spike and the two witches leave Sunnydale for New
Hampshire, with a couple surprises along the way.

Chapter 14: Departure

Wednesday, November 28th, 9:22 PM

“What ravages of spirit,
Conjured this temptous rage,
Created you a monster,
Broken by the rule of love,
And fate has led you through it,
You do what you have to do,
And fate has led you through it,
You do what you have to do…”
-Do What You Have To Do – Sarah McLachlan

    Something hot and wet touched Spike’s face, pulling him out of a deep
slumber. He grimaced and tried to push it away, but it came again, pushing
itself against his face. Groaning loudly, Spike pulled the thick comforter
over his head and burrowed deeper under the covers.

    As he tried to go back to sleep, a heavy form plopped itself onto his head.
Puzzled and more than a little annoyed, he pulled the covers down far enough
to see a large furry shape curled half on the pillow and on his tousled
hair. It turned a small black and white head framed with a pink collar and
stared at him with amber eyes.

    “Mrr?” it asked and started to purr. Loudly.

    “What’s this, then?” Spike said, feeling the purr of the cat on top of him
reverberating through the pillow. “Where’d you come from?” He reached up and
scratched the cat’s ears. It made another noise halfway between a contented
purr and a satisfied meow. It leaned its neck against its hand in ecstasy.

    The vampire looked around him to see the familiar confines of a living
room. He recognized the coffee table sitting in the center of the room, the
large couch he sat upon and the paintings on the walls. He was in Buffy’s
house. As his mind escaped from the confines of sleep, he remembered. He
remembered that though he had managed to be able to sleep in his bed, the
bed he had shared with Buffy, he had slept restlessly. And yesterday, he had
been helping getting ready to leave but had fallen asleep in a tired heap.
He guessed he must have been really exhausted, as he had slept through the
whole day and never woke up once. Sighing, he figured he ought to get up,
get dressed and get the last of his things together. Today they were leaving
for New Hampshire.

    Sitting up, he realized that the house was completely empty. He must have
been the only one here. That and the cat. Funny how he had never noticed it
before. With a groan, he remembered that once again he had fallen asleep
with his clothes on. He sat up, stamping the pins and needles out of his
leg. Just as it was starting to clear away, a fair-haired young woman came
down the stairs with two large suitcases and a shoulder bag.

    “You’re finally up,” Tara greeted, smiling prettily, “Did you sleep well?”

    He nodded his head and threw back the covers on the couch, “You make this
up for me, luv?” He said, gesturing to the pillows and blankets.

    “That was Dawn’s idea. She thought you would get cold.”

    “Fat chance.” Spike still smiled though, imagining the little brunette
tucking him in.

    Tara dropped her bags on the floor and then noticed the cat and smiled. She
approached the couch and scooped up the cat in her arms.

    “How did you get in here, you rotten thing, I thought you were upstairs,”
she scolded softly, turning her onto her back. The lithe cat didn’t
struggle. She just seemed to smile the way cats do and flexed her front
paws. She grinned as the cat tried to reach her chin with one paw.

    “He wasn’t bothering me much. Just woke me up, I guess.” Spike told her,
“Besides the little thing was keeping me company.” Tara handed the cat to
him, and he took it somewhat awkwardly.

    “It’s a she and her name is Miss Kitty Fantastico.” Tara said, walking back
to the suitcases, opening them up and peering at the insides.

    Spike leaned back against the couch and deposited the black and white cat
on the comforter. The feline didn’t move except to rub her head against his
leg so he would continue scratching her chin. Spike obliged, “I think she
likes me.”

    “She always was a flirt.” The Wicca worked in silence for a couple minutes
and then closed the suitcases. “Willow and Dawn are at the Magic Box getting
supplies and getting the others. We’ll be ready to go in a couple hours.”

    The blonde vampire nodded, eyes closed and head pillowed against the fabric
of the couch. “Ready whenever you are, luv.” Miss Kitty had curled up
against his thigh and fallen asleep. The witch grinned and went back
upstairs.

    After a few minutes, Spike realized that he had to get up. Today he was
starting on his way to save Buffy. He should get ready.

    Dragging himself upwards, Spike gathered himself together and found his
boots, pulling them on. The cat on the couch didn’t move. He took his coat
from the rack and put it on and grabbed the pack he had brought with him
yesterday. Everything else they had needed would be put into the DeSoto that
was stored in an abandoned warehouse where Jariath made sure it wasn’t
stolen. All he needed was to get a few things. Opening the door, Spike
stepped through, heading toward the cemetery.

~

    The cemetery was busy with activity this evening. Vampires were out
prowling the grounds for victims with a newfound confidence. Rumors of the
Slayer’s disappearance had probably spread around town like a wild fire. It
wasn’t like Riley was subtle or anything. The air was full of the smell of
earthly decay, sweat and even hints of blood. The Scoobies probably had
their hands full the last couple days. Every once in a while, he heard a
primal growl and once he thought he heard someone scream. As Spike passed
through the graveyard he was reminded of the years when this would have been
his night to shine, his hour to slaughter, his turn to paint the town red.
He would have enjoyed it too, and the demon inside him longed to hunt and
kill with the demons. But then he would think of Buffy.

    It wasn’t long till he reached the spot where Buffy’s gravestone had once
stood. The rubble had been cleared away and small crosses had been set there
in the meantime, until the tombstones were replaced. He knew that he had
left his sword somewhere around here. He spied a mausoleum a couple feet
away and approached it. If he couldn’t find his sword, he could just steal
something from another vampire or maybe something was in there. He opened
the door and walked inside. No one appeared to be there. “Honey, I’m home.”
He quipped out cheerfully, peering at the confines of the small space.

    “Looking for me?” came a voice behind him.

    Spike winced; he recognized that voice.

    “Archibald,” He greeted the demon.

    The Swordmaster raised an eyebrow as he stepped out of the dark shadows of
the room. “Spike.” He leaned against the wall and fixed the younger man with
steely stare. “Haven’t seen you the past couple nights.”

    “I’ve been doing more important things, like having an unlife.” Spike said
evasively. “I’m not in the mood for chit chat, Grandpa.”

    “Looking for a weapon, are you?”

    “Yeah, a sword or something like that.”

    “Thought you already had one.”

    “Lost it.”

    “What kind of self-respecting swordsman loses his blade?” Archibald
demanded. “Certainly not one that deserves to carry one and call it his.”

    Anger flared inside the vampire. “Bloody hell! I don’t give a damn about my
soddin’ sword! As long as I can cut open a psycho freak and rip apart his
insides I’m fine! So unless you can help me with my little problem, you can
either go or let me peel off your scales and use them as an bleedin’
umbrella!” He and Archibald locked eyes and stared each other down. Spike
found himself breathing hard and fast as he watched the older demon.

    For a moment, he thought he was going to have to go through on his threat
and he was actually feeling quite up to it, however, Archibald pushed
himself away from the wall and walked to the sarcophagus in the middle of
the room. “I heard about what happened, Spike. I found your sword amongst
the rubble after the Ausi appeared at the Bronze,” he said as he opened up
the casket and picked up the sword from within it. Holding it, he studied it
carefully without turning to face him. Spike looked at his back and felt
himself calming down.

    “Why didn’t you just come and get me, then? You probably know where my
crypt is.”

    Now, Archibald turned. He held out the sword to him. It was a long sword
with an ebony hilt, quite simple really. Spike knew it was his. “I was
hoping you’d come get it yourself.”

    Spike stepped forward and took it from the Swordmaster. He drew it up and
inspected the blade. It was covered in dust and several deep nicks in it
from his destruction of the gravestones. Spike winced. He would have to
sharpen the bloody thing. God, just what he needed.

    Spike lowered the sword and turned to go. He knew that the Pytho would
probably just let him go with some smart-ass remark, but when he felt a
rough hand on his arm he turned back in mild surprise.

    “Spike,” Archibald said softly. Spike looked into the older demon’s viper
eyes. They were still hard and predatory, but there was a hint of
resignation and concern. “Sorry for what happened, sort of…I’m not really a
fan of the Slayer. But let me give you some advice. Don’t fight in anger.
You never win that way.”

    Spike rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the input, After School Special.”

    “Shut up.” Archibald shook his head, “I don’t give a damn about love and
justice. Anger dulls your actions, affects your judgment. Never go into a
fight angry. You’ll only lose.” The shorter demon took a step back and
looked into Spike’s eyes. “I want you to go kill that guy before he finds
this town. The Ausi is more powerful that you can even imagine. There is no
humanity in that staff. No honor or conscience. The only thing it knows is
death. The keeper gets what he wants, but the price is always the same.
Remember that.”

    Spike grinned wanly, “Thanks for the sword, Archie.”

    Archibald waved him away, “Don’t ever call me Archie again. And the next
time you leave a sword lying around in that condition you’ll have to answer
to me!”

    Spike sketched a salute and left the mausoleum. It was time to go.

~

    “I’m feeling really stupid when I say this, but are you sure that’s enough
blood to keep you going?” Willow asked as Spike pushed back the pig blood
bag that was still more than half full. The Scoobies sat around the Summers’
kitchen. Willow, Tara and Spike’s bags were ready to go.

    “Not hungry.”

    “That’s a good thing right?” Xander asked, “I mean, no one likes anyone’s
blood to end up like that, even Babe’s.”

    “Shut up, Harris.” Spike snapped, pushing his chair back so he could get
up, “I’m ready to go.”

    “We should get going.” Tara said to Willow, who stood by the table.

    “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you guys? Everybody needs a
comic relief.” Xander exclaimed.

    Before Willow could answer, Anya hurried up and put a protective arm around
her fiancée. “No! Xander can’t come with you. He’s much too preoccupied to
save Buffy right now.”

    “And why is that?” Xander asked, looking down at his pretty girlfriend.

    “Umm…his dog died.” Anya quipped.

    “Didn’t your dog die ten years ago, Xander?” Willow asked, a rueful smile
on her face.

    “It still hurts.” Anya exclaimed. “He’s traumatically shattered. It
wouldn’t be a good idea to have him go along.”

    “Anya has a point,” Willow said, “Umm…not about the dog. You should stay
here, Xander. I’m still a bit worried why we should bring two witches, but
we need all the magic we can get to bring Buffy back. We need you to stay
and make sure that nothing gets out of hand here. Right now Buffy is our top
priority, but demons are already figuring out the Slayer is gone and who
knows what they’ll do then. You have to stay.”

    Xander nodded reluctantly and hugged his childhood friend tightly, “Don’t
get killed, k? That would be a downer at my wedding.”

    “I’ll remember.” Willow smiled.

    “Are we going, then?” Spike asked, waiting impatiently at the door.

    Willow and Tara said their goodbyes to everyone tearfully and walked
outside, Xander, Anya and Giles helping with the bags. Dawn and Spike were
left standing in the doorway. Dawn came up to him and looked at him, a
determined look on her face.

    “Let me come with you.”

    “What? Out of the question. You’re staying here where it’s safe.”

    “Yeah, right. Because Sunnydale is a cornucopia of childish delights.
Please!”

    “We can’t bring anymore people with us, pet. We’re going across the bloody
country. And you have schooling.”

    “I won’t take up any room, I promise. I want to help. If I can do something
to get her back, I want to do it. Please, Spike.”

    Spike looked into the brunette’s watery eyes, threatening to brim over with
tears. He squatted down and took her hands in his. “Luv, I know it’s hard.
But you have to be strong for them. Like you were this summer.” He gently
stroked her hair. “They are going to need you when things get rough. Believe
me, the best thing you could do for Buffy is be here. Understand?”

    “…yes…”

    “Take care, bit,” Spike said, “I’ll miss you.”

    “We’ll be together again sooner than you think.” Dawn told him, kissing him
on the cheek. “Bye Spike.”

    “Bye, Nibblet.”

~

    It was cold in the warehouse garage. The black DeSoto stood inside, its
large trunk open and piled with suitcases and luggage. Everyone was helping
loading up the supplies. Spike handed his pack to Giles who dropped it into
the trunk. The vampire took his keys out of his coat pocket and looked
around for the two witches.

    Willow was already getting into the car and Tara was just closing the
trunk. Dawn stood nearby, her hands wringing in worry and her eyes were
darting nervously around the room as if she didn’t know what to do. Turning
back to the car, Spike went to open the door when the world slipped away
from him. He fell up against the car door and hit his head hard enough to
send painful shards down his spine. Desperately, he clung to the car for
handholds but couldn’t find any. He fell down hard on the pavement. But the
jarring pain was soon gone as a warm, strong presence filled him and the
smell of blood and vanilla filled his nose. Joy flooded through his being as
he realized what was happening. #It’s Buffy#

    “Spike!” someone called. He felt hands on him, shaking him. Desperately, he
shoved them away. The link was weak enough already.

    #Buffy# he shouted, it may have been aloud, he wasn’t sure, #Where are you,
luv?#

    He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the image that greeted his mind
certainly wasn’t it. A huge, overwhelming feeling of darkness that went on
forever without end filled his mind and he cried out in helplessness. How
could this impossible place exist?

    Her soft voice sounded in his head. #Other place# Spike could sense her
frustrated confusion and panic as it flowed through his blood.

    Swallowing his terror and shock, he declared resolutely, #I’ll find you,
luv, whatever it takes# He paused and felt the link crumble. It wouldn’t
last long now. Quickly, he sent #I love you, Buffy#

    Then, it faded away. But just before it broke, he felt a faint
acknowledgement of his love. And a final, bright flash in the darkness. #I
love you#

    “Spike! Wake up!”

    He slowly came back to himself and found himself lying on the cold pavement
of the warehouse garage beside his car. He also was gripping Giles’ jacket
firmly. He in turn was supporting him with a strong grip on his arm. Willow
was crouched on his other side, actually looking worried, which thoroughly
surprised him. “I…” Closing his eyes, he breathed in deep, trying to stop
the world from spinning.

    “What happened? You just fell…and then you screamed.”

    He looked up at the gang, a smile playing on his lips. “Buffy. It was
Buffy. And she knew who I was…”

    “Huh?” Xander asked.

    “Buffy?” Willow cried, “Did she tell you where she was?”

    “Huh?” Again from Xander.

    Spike shook his head. “She tried, but I…I didn’t get it. It’s dark that
goes on forever.”

    “That’s all?” Giles asked.

    “Huh?”

    “She did say something else…” Spike’s brow wrinkled in concentration,
“Other place.”

    “Other place? What do you mean?”

    “And I say it again…HUH?”

    “Shut up, Xander!” Giles snapped, “Tara, could you fill the others in on
the Soulbond?”

    Tara nodded and turned to the others, while Giles and Willow turned back to
the vampire who was sitting up and leaning against the door, rubbing his
head.

    “What did she mean by other place, Spike?” Willow asked.

    “I dunno. That’s all I got. That and the darkness.” Spike closed his eyes
as he remembered the terror and confusion he felt within her when she was
with him.

    Willow was now standing up, her arms crossed around her chest and blinking
hard, fighting back tears.

    “Other place,” Giles mused, “It could mean another dimension. Willow told
me that he could have possibly hid in a pocket between realities. Subspace,
maybe? Not much to go on, but at least it’s a start. With any luck, she will
be out of there in no time.” Giles stood and helped Spike to his feet.

    “We have to wait a month, remember?” Willow replied, her eyes distant. The
gang stood around, confusion and fear on their faces.

    “Are you going to be all right?” Tara asked the vampire softly as she
wrapped her arm protectively around her lover. Willow leaned against her in
comfort.

    “Fine, just caught me off guard, is all.” He turned back to the car, opened
the door and slid into the driver’s seat.

    Willow and Tara said their goodbyes (for the bleedin’ hundredth time) and
hurried into the car. Tara in the back beside a large box. She didn’t
remember packing it but it was written in scrawled letters “FOOD” so she
shrugged it off. Spike turned on the ignition and drove out of the garage,
leaving the others behind. As his hands turned the steering wheel, the glint
of gold on his wrist shone in his vision.

    Willow saw it and looked up at him, “We’re going to get her back, right?”
Her voice sounded cautious and resigned.

    “Do what you have to do…” Spike answered, never keeping his eyes off the
street, except once to stare down the alley behind the Bronze.

~

    “Where are we?” Willow asked, waking up from her nap and watching the
approaching sunset as Spike parked his car behind an abandoned barn.

    “Chateau Cow Crap.” Spike murmered, getting out of the car. “It isn’t city
living, but we’ll never get to L.A in time. We’re going to have to stay
here.”

    Willow and Tara winced at the messy barn, cows grazing off the dewy grass.
“We should get the food out, hon.” Willow asked Tara.

    “Sure.” Tara said as she went inside the car and opened the box marked
“FOOD.”

    “Oh my God…”

    “What’s wrong, Tara?”

    “Hey…there…everybody…”

    “Dawn!”

    “Uh oh.”

    “What the-“

    “Bloody hell!”