Chapter Septem

***

Trailing idly through the halls, Dawn took her sweet time to complete the assigned task. She walked a zig zag path, skipping every few steps. The curtains to the open-air windows were heavy and beautifully embroidered with rubies and emeralds, not to mention pulled tightly closed. The walls were covered in rich frescoes of the gods as well as other well-known myths. The torches burned brightly and cast long shadows. Artfully crafted oak furniture filled every corner.

Portia wandered silently next to Dawn, swinging thin, bronzed arms. She played distractedly with a raven lock before biting at her short nails. Casting sporadic looks over at the other teen, she kept her pace calmer, taking small even steps.

"What do you do here for fun?" Dawn asked, taking a small hop.

Portia glanced over before settling her eyes back on the tile-patterned floor. "Slayer stuff, horseback riding, reading. Livia is teaching me how to weave." She wrinkled her nose in distaste, accentuating the sprinkle of light brown freckles across her cheeks contrasting sharply with the deep sapphire of her eyes. Swinging her arms behind her, she clasped her hands together.

Dawn furrowed her brow. "Anything else? That's it?" Her chestnut eyes widened slightly.

"Well, women aren't permitted into the Flavian Amphitheater except for the Vestal Virgins. We are allowed to watch the comedic performances and then there are the festivals. I like Saturnalia best." She grinned at the thought. "I mean, Slayer stuff keeps us occupied most of the time."

Dawn nodded, a little disappointed at the lack of activities. "Do you have school?"

"Girls don't have schooling past the age of fourteen." Portia flipped a long lock behind her shoulder.

"I'd kill for that," Dawn muttered under her breath. They both finally reached their destination. "You think we should knock?"

Portia fiddled with the sash to her tunica before whispering mischievously, "What if they're -doing- things?" She squinted her eyes at the innuendo.

"Things ... Oh! Things!" She pursed her lips in thought. "What about ... we just listen, then?"

The two pressed their ears as close to the heavy curtain as possible without falling in themselves. When none of the obvious sounds were heard, they pulled back carefully. Casting looks at each other curiously, Dawn peeked in slightly. Well, she definitely wasn't expecting that.

Buffy and Spike both were laying side by side, entwined tightly, kissing deeply. Portia's head popped through the curtain beneath hers. They exchanged glances. Looking back up, Buffy and Spike never even noticed them.

Drawing the curtain back, Portia arched a dark eyebrow. "Are you sure they're not in love?"

"Oh, I know Spike loves her. We're just not exactly sure about Buffy, but she's basically the queen of denial," Dawn shrugged it off.

"You want to be the one to interrupt them?" Portia leaned her back against the wall, drawing her tunica to the front of her legs.

"How about we just don't?" Dawn turned and retraced her steps through the fire-lit corridor.

Shrugging, Portia hurried after her. "What was that about?" she asked, long legs enabling her to catch up to Dawn quickly.

"I'm not going to interrupt them. They're not even fighting. So, let them make out for a while. Then we can come back and get them."

***

Buffy played lightly with Spike's hair. Without the gel he normally used, it was beginning to curl softly. "Spike?"

"Hmm?" Spike's fingers trailed across the small of her back, pushing the linen of the blanket aside for better access.

"Tell me about the ring?" she smiled curiously.

Sighing under his breath, Spike shifted into a sitting position, pulling Buffy onto his lap. "Story time, is it?"

"Wait," Buffy interrupted. She turned in his lap to place one leg on either side of his waist. "Before we say anything else, let's start with the basics, okay?"

Spike grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist. Buffy was trying to get to know him. "What do you want to know, love?"

"Whole name. You know mine, I should know yours." She arched an eybrow at him.

"William James Sumner." He cocked his head to the side, never breaking eye contact.

"Age?" Buffy bit the corner of her bottom lip. "I mean, the age you were when you were turned." She waved a hand in emphasis.

"You're not surprised at my last name, pet?"

Buffy grinned. "Weird shit happens. Now, age?"

"Twenty-six," he answered, matter-of-factly.

"Any siblings?"

"One. Diana was fourteen. I loved that little girl more than anything. She was my only fan." Spike's ice blue eyes swirled with wild emotion at the memory of his 'first love.'

"Fan?" Buffy asked teasingly.

If Spike could have blushed, he'd be as red as Willow's hair for letting that slip. "Yeah," he answered hesitatingly. "Um, it's where I got my nickname."

"Billy?" Buffy supplied laughingly, wrapping her arms lightly around his neck, hooking her legs loosely around his waist.

Spike snorted. "Nobody called me Billy. Ever. Di called me Liam. My mum called me Will." He rubbed her back gently. "The name William the Bloody."

Buffy tilted her head, confused. "I thought you got that name after you were turned."

"No. It's, um, short for William the Bloody Awful Poet." He ducked his head, embarrassed at what he was revealing.

"You were a poet?!" Buffy asked, grinning like a madman.

"Yeah, but I wasn't any good, always making things rhyme." Spike shrugged, avoiding her eyes.

"Recite one for me?" Buffy bit her bottom lip, trying to hold in a smile.

Spike's head shot up. "It's been a while since I've written any ..."

"Then you'll read me one when we get back," she insisted, green eyes flashing resolutely.

"Sure, love."

"What were your parents' names?" Buffy resumed questioning.

"Matthew and Mary Anne."

"Now, back to my original question," Buffy said mock seriously, clutching at well-muscled shoulders. "Tell me about the ring."

"This?" Spike asked, holding her left hand before placing a quick kiss on her knuckles. Buffy smiled, displaying dimples, and nodded. "When I was eighteen, my mother gave it to me. I was spending the summer with my grandparents in Devon. She told me that it was a family heirloom, told me to use it as an engagement ring of sorts." He let his eyes wander before correcting himself. "Well, not really an engagement ring. She said to give it to the lady that would steal my heart. She was always a romantic, never lost hope that I would marry." He left it at that.

Buffy smiled once more. He didn't exactly say it, but she knew. "Why didn't you give it to Dru?"

"I wanted to give it to her after I'd claimed her," he answered quietly.

"But didn't you ..."

"She wouldn't accept."

"Oh."

Spike shrugged. "Mum would have wanted you to have it anyway."

Buffy searched his face, gliding slowly over his eyes, impossibly high cheekbones, and finally settled on his full lower lip.

"What?" Spike asked, pulling his face back slightly.

"Nothing. I'm just going to kiss you." Without waiting for a response, she claimed his lips with hers, sliding forward until her upper body was pressed flush against his.

***

"Where are they?" Xander asked, frowning. He slumped into the stool he was currently occupying.

"Having sex," Anya singsonged.

"They're asleep," Dawn answered flippantly from the doorway. "I didn't want to wake them up. They had a late patrol."

Xander quietly seethed, turning to the others, hoping that one of them would back him up.

"I think it's cute," Tara said bashfully.

"They were all snuggly," Willow added in.

"Well then," Tiberius interjected, pushing a pair of wire spectacles higher up on the bridge of his nose, "perhaps we better continue without them." Brushing the graying black hair out of his eyes, "Livia, Lucius, shall we?"

***

Buffy settled back onto the feather-down mattress, pulling the linen blanket up. Fingering it lightly, she made out the spectrum colors of the thread, settling on the gold.

Spike had molded himself to her back, and Buffy reached back to cup his cheek, stroking gently.

He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder before pulling her back towards himself.

The two fell into an undisturbed sleep.

***

Dawn cautiously pulled the curtain to the room back, leaving enough room for her to throw it shut just in case.

She smiled, relaxing her stance. They were sleeping.

Padding quietly over to the bed, she scanned the space quickly for the easiest entrance. Quickly, she made her move, flopping down on the mattress right next to the them. The two instantly sat up, both immediately reaching for a weapon.

"Hey! It's me," Dawn informed them swiftly, grabbing at Buffy's arm.

They stopped, arms outreached, and looked blankly at her. Suddenly, Spike arched an eyebrow, and Buffy flopped back down onto her back.

"Hey Dawnie," Buffy offered sleepily.

"Nibblet," Spike greeted right before Buffy got a hold of the back of his shirt and pulled him down next to her.

"You guys are so cute." Dawn grinned at the motion and settled herself down on Buffy's other side. "What have you two been up to?" she asked conspiratorially.

Buffy swatted her shoulder before making herself comfortable in the sheets. "Sleeping."

Dawn raised her eyebrows. "Any ... good dreams ...?" She smirked mischievously.

"You certainly are nosy," Spike accused, settling himself against Buffy's side.

"I'm a kid, that's my job," she responded without missing a beat. "Anyway, you guys have to get up."

"Why is that?" Buffy asked. She turned on her side so she would be facing Dawn.

"Well, Xander is about the freak, and Tiberius really wants to watch you guys fight. He really is a carbon copy of Giles." Dawn rolled her eyes. "When are you going to teach me how to fight?"

"Hmm ..." Buffy thought, pursing her lips, "How about never?"

"Aww," Dawn groaned, looking to Spike for support. When she found none, "This majorly sucks." She sat back up, pulling the covers down. "Anyway, we really do have to go."

"Fine, fine," Buffy relented, pushing herself out of bed. Standing, she smoothed her shirt down.

"You slept with your shoes on?" Dawn asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"So did Spike," Buffy said defensively, indicated his combat boots.

"You slept with your shoes on together?" she asked again with the same amount of disgust. "I'm surprised you didn't kick the heck out of each other."

"Well, there really wasn't much moving," Spike said, sitting up himself. Both girls turned towards him before breaking into giggles. "What?" he asked defensively.

"You have bedhead," Dawn said, reaching her hands up to smooth the wayward hair back into place.

"Bloody hell," he muttered mostly to himself. "This is the problem with not having a reflection."

"It looks cute," Dawn reassured him.

"I'm not cute," Spike protested, glaring. He stood up, hands desperately trying to keep the hair down.

Buffy smiled, removing his hands from his head. She pushed a couple strands off his forehead. "There. You look fine." Standing back to have a better look at her handiwork, she opened the trunk to pull out his duster. "Here."

"I really need to smoke a fag," he muttered to himself before Buffy smacked his arm.

"No smoking. This room is officially a no smoking area." She put her hands on her hips and mock glared. "Just because those things can't kill you doesn't mean they can't kill me."

"Fine," he relented, grimacing.

"Whipped," Dawn grinned next to him.

"Yeah, yeah," Spike wrote it off before shoving his arms into the familiar sleeves of his duster. "Are we up?" he asked.

"Yep," Dawn agreed. "You guys slept completely through Livia and Lucius' fight."

"How was it?" Buffy asked, falling into step with Spike and Dawn, making certain to shut the curtain behind her.

"She totally kicked his ass," Dawn gushed.

"Language!" Buffy reprimanded.

"Welcome to the Nineties," Dawn rolled her eyes. "Or ... um, what year is it again?"

"I'm thinking a couple decades before the birth of Christ." Spike smirked before throwing an arm around Dawn's shoulder. "Now, this is a girl after my own heart," he finished as he ruffled her hair.

Buffy frowned and muttered something that sounded like, 'a bad influence.' Neither responded.

Buffy trailed her eyes along the walls, taking in the rich maroons, blues, and golds of the frescoes. Shifting them to the floor, she saw tiles of mosaics, smiling when she saw some tiles formed into the shape of a duck. Small bronzen oil lamps sat on tables made of nicely carved wood. Biting her lip, she managed to dig an elastic hair tie out of her pocket, pulling her hair back.

***

Chapter Octem

***

She watched her opponent warily, evening every breath of oxygen her lungs consumed. The room faded slowly away in a swirl of colors, leaving nothing but the two of them. Her senses dulled, and she relied on pure instinct. She focused on nothing but him and the fight. Their blows were well countered as they circled one another in an endless dance. Their movements were purely fluid, attacks and parries perfectly timed.

She smiled secretly, taking pleasure in the rush of the dance. She was well matched; in her heart she knew she had yet to meet another whom could predict her movements so easily. Grinning to herself, she realized that she could read his actions with equal ease. Years of fighting side by side brought a familiarity that she had not had with anyone else.

Swiftly moving, she knew a victor would be long in coming. Even as she fought, she admired his lithe form effortlessly keeping up with her, black leather swirling around a lean frame. He was pure energy, matching her pace, unfaltering in his capability to execute his half of the dance.

Her hair had come free from its confines, and it was now tangling wildly in a golden web as she ducked, rolled, and regained her footing. She could tell that he was taking as much pleasure in the fight as she. He had relaxed himself and was simply acting and reacting accordingly.

Her fingers itched for the familiar texture of a wooden state despite the knowledge that she could never use it on him. The object simply brought her comfort. The longing thought brought her back to a conversation she had had with him at the Bronze.

Always reach for your weapon.

In a burst of pure adrenaline, she kicked his feet out from under him, bringing a hand down over his chest, miming a staking motion.

"I win."

Spike grinned despite himself. With a quick yank to her arm, she was sprawled out over his chest. "And yet how distracted you are," he drawled lazily before he rolled them over.

"You would've been dust a long time before that could ever happen," Buffy pouted, mock pushing against his chest. Realizing that he wasn't going to rise anytime soon, she glared, crossing her arms in front of her.

Spike laughed quietly. "You look so menacing on the floor, love," he teased. "Anyway," he continued, "I would've been disappointed if you hadn't 've beaten me. Would be a little sorry, you being the Slayer and all." He rested on his side next to her, planting all his weight on an elbow. "If you couldn't bring ol' Spikey down, what's to say some old nasty wouldn't slip in and-"

"Ego much?" Buffy glowered, cutting him off. She pushed herself up onto her forearms but didn't rise from the floor just yet. "Anyway, practically all the vamps we come across are idiots anyway and probably couldn't find their way out of a paper sack." She watched as Spike rose to his feet, pulling Buffy up right after himself.

"Just taking care of the Slayer," Spike grinned from beside her.

Finally, the two turned towards Tiberius, eyes inquiring as to his opinion of the fight.

"Quite … poetic." Tiberius pulled his thin wire spectacles off the bridge of his nose to clean the lenses absentmindedly.

Dawn, Willow, and Tara giggled lightly at the obvious connection.

"Have you trained together before?" Tiberius asked curiously, never looking up from his parchment. "You were well synchronized."

"Nope," Buffy replied, plopping herself down onto a folding stool next to Dawn. "Just comes from a couple years of fighting together and against each other." She fastened her hair back into its bun.

Spike moved closer to the door, leaning against the frame. "Are we going to get to business or what, Watcher?" He frowned impatiently.

"That's right," Tara added in hesitatingly. "We still have to get home."

"And there's the apocalypse," Willow almost groaned. "But yeah! Research!"

"I really don't think research if of the good, Wills," Xander arched an eyebrow.

"Uh, right," Willow agreed, pressing her lips together as Dawn giggled at her. "But at least it's non-magicy stuff."

"Aren't Spike and Deadboy here supposed to go out info hunting?" Xander asked from his position at the large wooden oak table. He lighting ran his fingers over the trim, silently admiring the craftsmanship.

"Deadboy?" Anya asked, confused. "I thought that was Angel. And did you just call Spike by his name?" she folded her hands prettily in her lap, smoothing out the wrinkles of her tunica.

"Seeing as Angel isn't here, Ahn," Xander answered, spreading his hands out emphatically, ignoring her second question completely.

Continuing with the conversation, "Perhaps they should go back over the graveyards as well as the local taverns," Livia suggested.

"Probably," Portia countered slowly, "but there happens to be a little problem." She smirked silently, arching an eye playfully.

"And that might be …?" Xander asked.

"It's daylight, el stupido." Dawn rolled her eyes, going over to stand near Spike. "But Spike can go out in the light now, can't he?" Dawn squealed ecstatically. "We should go outside. You seriously need a tan, though," she wrinkled her nose at his milky complexion. "I wonder how Angel always stays tan … Do you think he uses that tan in a bottle stuff?" She grinned wickedly. "Anyway, white on white just isn't a good look for you. White on black isn't a good look for you either," she added as an afterthought. "Remind me to buy you a blue shirt when we get home."

Everyone paused at this, avoiding eye contact with her.

"We are going to go home, aren't we?" Dawn approached timidly.

"Sure, Bit," Spike answered finally. "How about we go outside like you said earlier?"

Dawn agreed happily, and she dragged Spike out to the stables with Portia.

Buffy immediately slouched, sighing quietly. "Great-we don't even know if we're going to get home." She scratched her head in frustration, mussing her hair once again.

"M-maybe we'll find something out tonight," Tara reassured lightly, smiling consolingly at the Slayer.

"Yeah, who knows what goes on at night," Lucius finally spoke up lewdly. "I'm sure we'll find out a lot at the local whorehouses."

"Lucius!" Livia snatched up a throw pillow and smacked him across the head with it, barely fazing him.

"What?!" he protested. "It's true!"

"It's not like they need to know that!" she frowned. Glaring narrowly, she moved towards the door. "I'll meet you all again at sundown. I have to be somewhere." She wandered off, muttering something vaguely sounding like, "stupid council."

"That was real fun," Willow piped up. She hugged a throw pillow to her chest, absently toying with a piece of golden thread. Everyone's eyes trailed after Lucius's retreating form following Livia out the door.

"You're coming back, right, Deadboy?" Xander called out at him.

"Xander!" Anya criticized. "I may not be too sure about everything, but I don't think it's very nice to call people names."

"Spike calls me names all the time!" Xander complained weakly.

"Only because you call him names first," Anya reasoned sweetly. "Plus, we all know Spike. It's not really a big deal with him."

Tara grinned. "Spike has nicknames for everyone. I just noticed that. He barely calls any of us by our real names."

Tiberius cleared his throat, reminding everyone of his presence. "I'm quite sure Lucius will return later." He finally set his quill down. "Now, as to your predicament, I have a rather extensive library. Perhaps something within these scrolls will be of some assistance."

"Well then, let's get started," Willow grinned, rubbing her hands together. Then, at the looks on everyone's faces, she immediately frowned.

***

Xander flopped himself over the desk. "This is just no fun." Hundreds of scrolls scattered the room forming random piles.

Buffy groaned from her spot on the table, her arms folded over an open scroll. "I hear ya." Her hair blocked her face. "This is hopeless."

Tara glanced over the scroll she was avidly rolling and unrolling. "Sp-Spike will probably find something out tonight," she stuttered lightly before returning to her zealous reading.

Anya smiled, somehow managing to stay peppy after hours of research. "Do you think they'll let Xander go with them?" Her light hands trailed over the words as she read.

"Huh?" Willow lifted an eyebrow. "Do you think they will? I thought it was a demons only type thing," Willow grinned, her head resting in the palm of her hand.

"Why can't I go?" Xander asked, seemingly offended. He sat up straighter in his chair.

"Because, sweetie," Anya patted his leg, "they're demons. They're much stronger and faster and more agile than you."

"Gee thanks, Ahn," Xander glowered. "Rub it in the human's face." He immediately slouched once more.

"You're welcome," Anya's smile brightened, pleased with herself.

Willow lifted her eyebrows, pressing her lips together. "Right."

"If you really wish to go, Alexander," Tiberius' voice caught their attention, "I'm sure they would let you." His glasses rested low on the bridge of his nose, and the scrolls he had read were piled neatly in two piles in front of him.

Before anyone could answer, the heavy door swung open and Livia stepped through, instantly shutting it behind her.

Tiberius pulled his spectacles off. "How was the meeting?" He placed them down next to his "Have yet to read" pile of scrolls.

"How do you think it was?" she frowned. "They finally get back to me about that damn cruciamentum," she sneered. "They should get rid of that stupid rule."

Buffy snorted, immediately catching Livia's attention.

"You had to complete the cruciamentum?" Livia asked, almost sounding disgusted. "And you're from when? A couple thousand years in the future?"

Buffy nodded stiffly, apparently sharing in her sentiments. "I quit the Council because of it."

"Really?!" Livia asked, genuinely surprised.

Buffy grinned and nodded. "So … how did you kill it?" She grinned.

Livia shrugged. "Smashed a chair for a makeshift stake and caught him from behind." She smiled at herself. "Hey, do you want a break?" she asked the older slayer.

Buffy jumped up. "God, yes!" Without a second thought, she flounced out the door. Xander rose right after her, obviously intending to do the same.

"I didn't mean you," Livia said pointedly. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow. "You sit."

Groaning once more, he collapsed back into his chair.

***

Buffy wandered around, wondering where to find the stables. Finally becoming fed up, she asked a servant who directed her in the right direction.

Stepping into the waning sunlight, she followed the paved rock path only to find Portia, Dawn, and Spike atop horses in the middle of the extensive field behind the villa. She felt a grin spread over her face as she approached them.

"Hey Buffy!" Dawn called from her porch on a dark brown mare. She held onto the reins tightly.

"Salvete!" she returned to everybody, speeding up her pace slightly.

Spike automatically dismounted and neared her. "What's going on? Do I need to come back for something?" he asked.

Buffy smiled and shook her head, indicating no. Tilting her head to the side, she bit her lip while studying him.

"What?" Spike asked self-consciously, his hands flying to his face. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," Buffy said again. "You just look different in the light."

Spike frowned for a second. "I would know. Haven't seen myself outside for more than a century. Bet I wouldn't even recognize myself."

Buffy shrugged. "Anyway, Xander wants to go with you and Lucius later," she changed the subject casually.

Spike led the horse by the bridle back into the stable, his back turned to her.

"Spike?"

"It doesn't matter. He can go if he wants." He led the horse into the stall, patting it one last time.

Buffy bit her lip before following him into the stable. "Do you want me to go also?"

"No," Spike answered immediately, shutting the gate on the stall.

"Why not?" Buffy asked, indignant. She frowned, pursing her lips.

"Simple," Spike answered, finally turning to look at her. "You're the Slayer."

Buffy opened her mouth to say a comeback but stopped mid-breath. "Oh."

Spike grinned at the expression on her face. "Don't act so surprised, pet. Do you actually think we could go info hunting with the Slayer right there?"

Buffy stumbled for words. "No, but …"

"There you go." He walked over to the entrance. "Dawn! Portia!" he called loudly to them, then gestured for them to come back. When they dismounted, he told them, "It's about time you gave those horses a rest. We've been riding for a couple hours now."

"Sure," Dawn answered and the girls led their horses back into the stable.

"Go back in when you're done," he called to them. Then, to Buffy, "Let's go."

***

Xander closely followed Spike and Lucius, keeping a wary eye about him. The cemetery they were currently traveling through was dark and dank, and he had seen enough for one night to know to keep his wits about him.

Spike and Lucius took up the lead, their gait resembling large cats, their muscles coiled for attack. Wild eyes searched the night for any demons they could happen to come across and pump for information.

Xander winced as he recalled the night's events. He had never been so scarred in his life. Never in his wildest imagination did he think Lucius would bring them to a lupanarium. He had always thought that a lupa was a wolf. Apparently it was also something else ...

"I can't believe you brought me there," he accused. "Anya's going to kill me!"

"No one asked you to come," Lucius shot back, not even turning around.

"I'm sure you've seen it all before, whelp," Spike joined in grinning. "I noticed all those dirty magazines you tried to hide me from that little stint a couple years ago in your basement."

"What are you talking about?" Xander asked wide-eyed, dancing around the situation.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." Spike smirked at him. "A couple pictures of some bints going at it shouldn't phase you one bit."

"Well I didn't exactly expect the specials of the day sculptured out on the walls!" Xander protested, his arms making wild gestures. "They even *painted* them!"

Spike chuckled but didn't respond.

"Maybe we should stick to the cemeteries. Wouldn't want to hurt his poor eyes," Lucius suggested, grinning.

"Your choice," Spike answered as Xander started to sputter. "No one made you come along," he told him smugly.

Frowning grimly, Xander said nothing but continued along.

"He finally decides to shut his mouth," Lucius chuckled quietly to himself.

The three continued on in silence, occasionally throwing glances towards one another. Xander warily took in his new surroundings, his hands clasped tightly to a stake.

Suddenly, he slammed into Spike who had stopped in front of him. "Hey!" he exclaimed in annoyance. "Why don't you watch what you're doing?" He took several steps back, grumbling in annoyance.

"Vampires," Spike hissed back at him. "Got your stake?"

Xander nodded, wiping a sweaty palm on the leg of his jeans. "How many?" he asked, glancing past Spike's shoulder.

"A lot."

***

Chapter Novem

***

.: Ok, guys, a quick note before anything. Some historical discrepancies you notice are usually just my artistic license (i.e. Tiberius' spectacles). However, that little part about the cross ... Just so you guys know, there were such things as crosses before Jesus Christ. They were crucifying Jews long before Jesus Christ was crucified. But let's not get into that. Let's just keep in mind this is fiction and that everything is not going to be perfect. :)
.: This chapter is dedicated to charisma1525 and Hannah Spikette who have stuck with me throughout everything. Thanks, guys. You're the reason I keep writing.
.: As always, I hope you enjoy.

"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters on July 14, 2002 (one day before my birthday! ^-^)

***

The vampires kept on coming, their many numbers making up for their lack in combat abilities.

Xander was slowly being bogged down, but he continued to struggle, swinging his arms wildly and lashing out with his legs.

"Whelp!" he heard Spike call over all the struggling. Pushing madly at the vampire before him, he somehow managed to shove his stake into a heart, a cloud of dust automatically forming before him, clogging his vision.

"Right here!" he called back before, out of nowhere, a strong fist swung him around and knocked his head back with a sharp blow. A rivulet of blood formed at his brow. Automatically bringing his hand up to shield his face, his other hand searched the ground desperately for his dropped stake. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the vampire's face shift, recognizing the familiar crunch of bone, and lean in for the fatal bite. Inching backwards, his hand doubled its efforts in its search. The vamp lunged forward before suddenly exploding into a coarse powder.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Xander looked up at Spike's smirking face. He once again allowed his heart to resume its frantic beating and grinned in thanks. Grasping Spike's outreached hand, he was pulled back into a standing position. Spike handed him his dropped stake.

"Thanks, man," he offered.

"Just keep yourself alive," Spike told him quickly. "Anya would never forgive me if I let you die." Without another word, he resumed the fight, not even casting a glance at Lucius.

Xander noticed that both vampires were holding their own but were slowly being overwhelmed. Where were all the vampires coming from? And they just kept coming.

"We have to go!" Lucius yelled at both of them through the fighting. "The reinforcements aren't letting up!" In a single motion, he dusted two vamps, clearing a path towards Spike and Xander. Pushing through forcefully, "We have to leave."

Nodding at the swift directions, Spike grabbed Xander by the arm and commenced fighting his way free of the crowd. "Come on, whelp! Move!" he ordered.

Xander pushed into action, using his body weight to clear the way. Despite his efforts, the openings he made immediately refilled, and for every vamp they dusted, it seemed as if three more emerged.

When it finally seemed hopeless, a sharp blinding light filled their vision and an ocean of dust filled the air, forming a grainy mist.

Squinting, Xander held a hand over his mouth and coughed deeply, ridding his lungs of the vampire remains. "Spike?" he yelled through the fog. "You still alive?"

"Yeah," Spike answered gruffly. "Right here. Lucius?" They heard a snort from somewhere behind them.

Almost as suddenly, several sharp gusts of wind cleared the air of the dust. Remaining in its place were five figures. Waving a hand in front of his eyes, Xander struggled to make out the vision before him.

The figures apparently were all women, and four possessed a pairs of wings. Each beautiful in her own right, one stood majestic before the rest. A tall pale woman, she stood upright and proud, spear in hand and helmet perched on head. Her flashing gray eyes narrowed on them, twisted deep brown hair tied in a thick knot at the nape of her neck.

Smirking gently, she finally addressed them. "A valiant effort." Her voice rang deep and clear in their ears.

Xander absently pushed a palm over his face, smearing the blood across his cheek. He stood mesmerized by the beautiful woman, and the pain he felt throughout his body seemed almost muted.

Lucius frowned slightly. "You're ..."

"Minerva," she finished for him, her voice dignified. Her timber wolf eyes softened as she ran her eyes over their forms. "You are hurt from the battle."

Spike shrugged. "The whelp more so than the rest of us." He arched an eyebrow. "But that's because he's human. Too stubborn for his own good." He pocketed his stake and eyes the women warily.

"Perhaps we should ..." she suggested, her slim arm extending slightly in invitation.

Lucius glanced at Xander. "Maybe we should let you get cleaned up," he told him in agreement. "You're bleeding everywhere." His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Gee, thanks," Xander muttered, once again wiping the blood out of his eyes and into his hair.

"I must agree," one of the other women finally spoke. Winged like the rest, this one had a crown of golden hair weaved through with wildflowers. "We should tend to your wounds before anything else occurs."

"Okay, can we get some names?" Spike asked, feeling impatient. He shifted his weight on his feet. Virtually unscathed, he was far luckier than Xander who would probably be left with several ugly bruises and cuts.

The blond woman smiled shyly, blue eyes twinkling. "I am Victoria." She folded her wings gently behind her and clasped her hands together in front of her, forming a sweet vision.

Another woman with long black hair and eyes as green as emeralds directed her gaze towards them. Divine wings graced her back. "I am Justicia," she told them, "and those two," she nodded at the last two women, "are Fortuna and Nemesis." She returned to her silence, her eyes watching them like a hawk.

They turned to the other women, obviously sisters. Both had hazel eyes and milky complexions, the only real difference between them being their hair color. Nemesis had flaming red hair and her sister, Fortuna, had a calming light shade of brown. Their hair twisted into braids over matching pairs of wings. Fortuna smiled kindly on them.

Nodding, Lucius turned on his heel to return to the villa, his steps long and hurried. However, at further scrutiny, there almost seemed to be a small limp marring his gait, and Xander spied a splotch of blood on his right thigh. A blade had caught him in the fight.

"Hey!" Xander called, rushing to catch up with him, wincing slightly at a small pain in his side. "What makes you think we can trust them?" he gestured back with a flick of his head.

Lucius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Because," he said, his voice even, "if you haven't noticed by now, they are goddesses."

"Goddesses?" Xander asked himself, almost surprised. Then, shaking himself from his stupor, "That doesn't automatically make them good," he protested, glancing back at the women. He turned to Spike, "I mean, remember Glory?"

The women followed gracefully and effortlessly, almost seeming to glide over the soft grass. Minerva took the lead, her head held proud and sure. The other women followed in a small group, Fortuna and Nemesis side by side, their wings folded on their backs.

"Don't worry so much," he heard Spike from next to him. At second glance, he noticed a long tear in the back of his shirt over his shoulder blade and onto the expanse of his lower back. Blood seeped from the clean slash. "I don't think they're anything to worry about."

"And why's that?" Xander whispered loudly.

"Because Justicia's with them." Spike looked at him once more before continuing on with his stride.

Xander seriously considered asking another question but decided against it. They seemed to know what they were doing. The time for questioning would come later.

The walk back was surprisingly shorter than they remembered, the way back to the villa almost blurred and passing more and more quickly as they continued. They could almost make out the flickering lights of the villa's torches as it loomed large and beautiful overhead, and the light from the torches illuminated the grounds and flickered softly on the flora.

They stopped at the edge of the house's shadow. Spike trained his eyes behind him, lifting a shoulder uncomfortably at the absence of his duster's weight.

Minerva steadily approached, her grip loose on her spear. "The home of the Slayer." She smiled secretly, glimpsing at the villa. "Exactly where we need to be, William," she smiled proudly at him before continuing on, the other women following accordingly.

Frowning once more, Xander shot a wary look at Spike. Something definitely was up. His head throbbed heavily, and, bring a hand, still caked with blood, up to his brow, he winced, realizing the severity of his condition. A concussion, he groaned inwardly.

The small congregation made their way up the lined stone walkway. Xander stumbled lightly and Spike's arm immediately shot out to steady him. "Careful, whelp," he muttered almost incoherently.

Lucius strode ahead, trying to hold his pace steady despite the painful throbbing in his thigh. Still, however, he was still the most unscathed of the group. Cautiously, he pushed open the heavy oak entrance, only to find another small group anxiously waiting inside for them. Steadying himself, he pulled the door open wider to allow the others entrance.

Anya's eyes widened dramatically once she saw Xander and she rushed to him. "Xander!" She gingerly slung an arm around his waist and helped him to a seat. "What happened?!"

"Almost got our asses whipped," he told her jokingly as she fussed over him.

Buffy bit her lip nervously as she glanced at Spike's back. She looked over at Livia and was a little surprised to see her looking intently at Lucius.

Lucius rolled his eyes at Anya as he allowed the five women to enter into the villa. The group immediately fell silent, and Tiberius pushed himself to his feet in a sort of awe. Livia glanced around, wondering if she should do anything to take action against the women.

"Who are they?" Willow quietly asked finally.

"Williana," Minerva addressed her, gray eyes pleased. "Always so curious." She set her spear carefully against the wall.

Tiberius opened his mouth, but she shushed him gently. The other four women leaned lightly against the wall, waiting for their mistress to speak.

"I know you know who I am, Tiberius." Her voice rang lightly but confidently. "All will reveal itself in due time," she addressed the rest of the group. "In the meantime, I suggest you dress your wounds and rest." She smiled kindly. "Alexander," she called expectantly.

Xander's head shot up quickly as he looked over at the regal goddess.

"Rest," she told him simply. "You harbor the most wounds tonight. You will not be any help to us if you do not heal."

He nodded almost dumbly at her order. Nevertheless, she seemed quite placated, taking up her spear once more. "We shall return tomorrow to speak more. Expect us." With a finally nod, she turned on her heal and left, the other women following silently behind her.

"Okay, I can be the first to say that was really weird," Willow said from her position across the room. Blazing torches lit the atrium warmly and reflected waveringly in the cooling waters of the impluvium.

"Wh-who were those women?" Tara asked shyly.

"And why did they have wings?" Dawn added, grinning. "Did you see them?" she asked Portia excitedly. "Those were awesome!"

"Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow," Tiberius told him, looking quite disturbed. His brow furrowed. Shaking himself slightly, he allowed himself to look at the men and grimaced. "What on earth happened to you?"

Lucius shrugged. "They were just fledglings." He leaned against the fresco-covered wall to alleviate some of the pressure on his thigh.

"Nasty buggers," Spike added to himself.

"Just fledglings?" Willow asked curiously. "So why are you ..."

"Uh, Tara," Xander interjected. "Let's just say there was about a gaba-freaking-zillion fledglings!" he huffed and immediately grabbed his ribs, flinching.

"And what did those women have to do with this?" Buffy asked, looking directly at Spike.

"They killed all the fledglings," he told her simply.

"Five of them killed all the fledglings," Livia stated flatly, unbelieving.

"Actually," Lucius interrupted. "I think just one of them did." He raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Spike grinned. "Bloody brilliant, it was."

"What are you talking about?" Anya demanded, impatient. "I want to know how one of them could wipe out all of those stupid vampires," she caught herself and added as an aside, "no offense Spike," and as he shrugged, she continued, "could have done all this to Xander!"

No one said anything.

Anya frowned. "The lady who was talking? She was the one, wasn't she?" Xander nodded next to her. "She's a goddess."

"Minerva," Spike added, attempting to lean back against the wall and immediately jumping forward, hissing from the searing pain in his back.

"Okay, that's enough," Buffy said. "Enough talk, talk. We can do this more tomorrow, but presently these guys are bleeding everywhere." She pushed herself to her feet.

"Right. Do you have any bandages or anything?" Anya asked Tiberius, gently smoothing the blood-caked hair back from Xander's face.

"Oh," he quickly composed himself. "Bandages, of course." He cleared his throat. "There should be some in the trunk at the foot of your bed."

Anya nodded, helping Xander to his feet. "Let's go."

"I'll send someone up with some more bandages and some water," Tiberius said.

Tara stood from her spot across the room. "Do you need any help, Anya?"

Anya smiled tightly, half-supporting Xander's weight. "Sure." The three turned and continued onto Xander and Anya's room, Xander limping slightly.

Tiberius glanced over at Lucius and Spike's forms concernedly. "Are you both all right?"

Lucius pushed himself off the wall. "Wonderful." He rolled his eyes. "Think I'll be off now."

Livia rolled her eyes in return. "Stop whining." She strode quickly over to him. "Let me see," she chided him.

"No," he shot back stubbornly.

Willow grinned. "Spike, you need anything?"

"Nah, I'll be all patched up before the night is over. Don't you worry. Go on, go to sleep." He stood, already feeling the cut across his back slowly clotting.

"If you say so," she told him quietly. "Night, guys. Come on, Dawnie. Time to go visit the Sandman."

"Okay," Dawn agreed, stifling a yawn. "Good night." She and Portia got up to leave.

"Night!" Portia called over her shoulder, sending a final glance at Livia and Lucius. She immediately turned to Dawn, giggling quietly.

"Well, then, if I can be of any assistance, please let me know." Tiberius cleared his throat lightly. "Livia?"

Her head shot up. "What? Oh, yeah, sure."

Tiberius rolled his eyes, momentarily breaking from character. "Don't stay up too late. Buffy, Spike," he nodded to them before leaving.

Spike looked sideways at Lucius and Livia. She wanted to bandage him up.

Buffy cleared her throat nervously, catching Spike's attention. She slowly stood from her seat.

Livia's head shot over at the unexpected noise. "Come on," she murmured quietly. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Lucius' mouth opened as if to protest, but Livia immediately shut him up by grabbing his arm and steering him towards the study.

"Well, if that wasn't blatantly obvious," Spike mused.

Buffy ignored his comment. "How's your back?"

"Fine," he told her. He started back for their cubiculum, Buffy following, her footsteps scurrying along the stone floors.

"Don't bullshit me," she told him. "You think I'm blind?" she almost demanded.

"No," Spike galled over his shoulder. "Just overly-concerned." He pushed the curtain to their bedroom aside as he stepped inside.

Buffy scoffed at him, pulling the curtain closed behind her. "Overly-concerned?!" She narrowed her eyes. "You just have a foot-long gash across your back. No biggie." She crossed her arms in front of her.

Spike grimaced. "It really that big?" he asked as he struggled to look over his shoulder at his back.

Buffy fought down the urge to smack him. Gripping the bottom of his t-shirt, she pulled it up and over his head sharply.

Spike cried out as the shirt was ripped from his back. The blood had slowly dried to the material, and the removal re-opened his burning cut. "Bloody hell!" he cursed to himself.

"Stop being such a baby!"

***

Severus stood in the darkness of the shadows, the torches burning brightly in contrast to the marble backing. He watched game-faced as many of his newly made minions lounged in the vast expanse of the underground room. Many were covered in blood from their evening hunt.

He turned towards a large altar, a dark and mysterious man perched atop the golden seat. An bejeweled cup of wine hung loosely in one hand as his head rested against the other. The obsidian black of his armor shone against the torches.

"Have you any news for us, Severus?" a woman asked, reclining lightly on the arm of the throne, her gray skirts falling dramatically over pale legs. Tangled, dark hair hung heavily to her waist, and her blood red lips curved into a malicious smile. "I understand you sent many of the minions out tonight."

"My lady," Severus began, licking his lips nervously, "the minions are," he cleared his throat lightly, retreating several steps, "are gone."

"Gone?" another smaller woman asked. Her fiery hair was pulled back tightly and she too was decked in armor. Black eyes loomed mysteriously in her head as she played with a small battle dagger. A man stood next to her sitting form in battle gear, his hair just as flaming as his sister's.

"Defeated," Severus repeated but added quickly, "but we can surely make more."

"Defeated by whom?" the man upon the throne asked. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. The minions ceased in their activities at the annoyance in the man's voice. The roars of several ferocious animals could be heard in the background.

Severus stalled. "The minions tell me it was your sister, my lord," he approached the subject cautiously.

"Minerva," the man repeated quietly. He rose to his feet and stared solemnly upon the vampire. Tilting his head to the side, he abruptly hurled the golden cup upon him, red wine splashing into Severus' dark hair.

Without flinching, Severus slowly ran a hand over his face, already feeling the wine drying, leaving a sticky sensation. "I believe so, my lord."

"I should have known." The man began pacing, his footsteps stomping angrily.

"Calm down, brother," the woman with the dark hair said. She grabbed him by his arm and pushed him back onto the throne. "You knew all along they would send her. We must simply have more reinforcements."

The red-haired warriors exchanged glances. The boy opened his mouth to speak. "And since we are above the Hellmouth, Father ..." He smirked.

The man leaned back heavily. "Of course you are right, Timor." He drove his hand heavily through his hair. "We have nothing left to do but wait."

"Lady?" Severus drew the attention of the brunette.

Her head tilted in his direction, a muscle in her cheek twitching. "You may leave, Severus." She looked back over at her brother. "You know the plan, Mars?"

"Of course, I know the plan, Eris." He waved a hand at a minion to bring him another goblet of wine. He downed it quickly, his head tilted back slightly. "Don't I, Fuga?"

"Yes, Father," the girl agreed from her seat next to her brother. She ran the tip of her dagger sharply over her fingertip, drawing a bed of red blood to the surface. She tilted her head to the side, enthralled by the metallic smell.

"Yes, yes," Mars repeated quietly. "Only a matter of time. Jupiter himself will learn my anger."

***

Buffy secured the bandage tightly. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" she teased Spike lightly as she rose from the bed. She wrung the cloth out over the bowl. The water was slightly stained red from the blood on Spike's back.

"I've had worse," he responded, looking at her from the side.

"New tune you're singing," she laughed quietly. "Well, you just ruined that shirt," she told him as she balled up the tattered remains of his black t-shirt. "I guess you'll just have to make due with your tunic."

"If you think for a minute that I'm going to fight in that dress," he began and was again greeted with Buffy's light laughter. Turning over onto his back, he grimaced as the movement jarred his wound.

"You're going to have to unless you want to fight bare," she told him as she turned around to reach into their trunk. Smiling, she hesitantly ran her fingers over the carvings on the cover of the piece of furniture. Shaking herself, she pulled the lid open and pulled out her tunica. Turning her back to Spike, she began to pull her clothes off to change.

Spike slid back to the pillows to watch her backside, grinning to himself. "I don't see anyone here complaining about me fighting bare."

Buffy turned around and glared at his expression, cocking her hip to the side. Reaching down, she pulled out his tunic and threw it at him. "You might as well dress while I'm gone."

"Gone?" Spike asked as she unbuttoned his jeans.

"Going to toss out the water." With that, she grabbed the bowl and headed off down the hall to the kitchen.

Shaking his head, he did as he was told and turned down the sheets on the thick feather down mattress to sleep. Flopping back onto the softness of the bed, he closed his eyes and waited for Buffy to return.

The curtain opened and he lifted his head to see Buffy re-enter the room. Her bare feet padded quietly on the ground as she made her way over to the bed. "All taken care of," she whispered to him. Climbing onto the bed beside him, she slipped under the sheets. Whispering, she settled down next to him, "You know, it's funny how everybody is quiet when everything becomes dark. I mean, you know everybody's up right now, but we can't hear them."

"That's because they're trying to let everybody go to sleep," he told her, looking curiously upon her golden crown.

After several moments of silence, "You were supposed to bite me."

Spike immediately frowned, but he remained quiet, his eyes focused on the darkness of their room.

"You don't want to bite me?" Buffy asked again, tilted her face towards him, her eyes shining in the dark.

Rumbling deep in his chest, Spike groaned. "Of course I want to bite you."

"Then, what are you waiting for?" Her fingers grasped the top of their sheets and pushed them down far enough for her to maneuver.

Spike didn't answer.

"I'm not going to break, you know." Smiling she rolled over onto her side. Pulling her hair to one side, she looked at him. "I tried to find somebody who could give me a cup of blood while I was out, you know, because you just lost a lot. But I couldn't. I guess this is the next best thing."

"Next best thing?" Spike asked, incredulously, placing a hand on her waist.

"Well, maybe." Grasping the back of Spike's head, she pulled it lightly towards her neck. "Would you just bite me and get it over with?"

"I think you actually want this more than I do," Spike told her jokingly as he licked her pulse point a couple times. Without giving her a chance to respond, he bit down lightly, enough to let her blood flow.

A moaned spilled forth from her lips and before it even started, it was over. "Huh?" she asked him, confused when she didn't receive an answer. Grasping his shoulders, she pulled him back far enough to realize he had fallen asleep.

Chuckling to herself, she rolled him gently onto his back and settled into his shoulder. Weaving a hand into his hair, she closed her eyes and welcomed sleep.

***

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