Angel sighed and stopped, running his fingers through his hair. This is
utterly pointless, he thought, scanning the area around him and Cordelia.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, and stank of the waste of the city
above. The only light came from the small flashlight clutched in his
companion's hand.


"Of all the stinky places, we get the sewers. Buffy must really hate me,"
the girl fumed, toeing something on the ground with disgust.


"She doesn't hate you, she's just worried, Cordy." The vampire took a final
glance around. "I don't think we're going to find anything here. Let's
head back."


"Thank God." Cordelia muttered, stepping lightly behind him, shuddering.


They walked in silence for a long while, before the girl stopped Angel,
placing a small hand on his arm. He turned around, looking curiously at her
inquiring face.


"Spill," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly.


Angel sighed, and furrowed his brow.


"What?"


"I know you're all stressed out about something. What is it? It's Spike,
isn't it? You're jealous." She said the last with a touch of hurt in her
voice.


"No! I'm not..." He turned away, wanting to look anywhere else but her
eyes. "It's just...I worry about her, alright? Yes, I still love her...But
not like that. We both know that that part of our lives is over. I just
don't want Spike hurting her, is all."


He felt her step up behind him, and hesitantly, she slipped an arm around
his waist.


"I don't think he would, Angel. Did you see the way he looked at her?"


The vampire chuckled.


"Yeah. I did. And he's really possessive about Dawn. It's...." he
chuckled again. "Really funny, actually."


Cordelia chuckled as well, pulling him around to face her. Her face
had that look she got sometimes, almost motherly.


"No more worrying, alright?" Both of her eyebrows raised. "We have other
stuff to deal with right now."


Angel smiled a little sideways, and took her face in his hands. He brushed
a kiss on her forehead and petted her hair absently, before pulling her into
a hug. She sighed softly, and lay her cheek against his chest.


They stood there for awhile, simply content to hold each other. The moment
was soon over, as he felt her stiffen before her heartbeat increased. He
held her tighter, knowing what was coming. She cried out in pain, and her
knees gave out, her small frame supported only by the vampire.


"Oh god.." she gasped, holding her head. "The junkyard." Her muscles
seized, and the vision hit her with full force. "Spike...someone's got
him..." she trailed off, the vision fading away, leaving her weak and
disoriented. Angel still supported her, worrying his lip.


"We'd better get back." She nodded slightly against his chest.


He swept her up in his arms and hurried back to the Magic Box.


///


(Hey now...)
(All you sinners...)
(Put your lights on...)
(Put your lights on...)
(Hey now...)
(All you lovers...)
(Put your lights on...)
(Put your lights on...)
(Hey now..)
(All you killers...)
(Put your lights on..)
(Put your lights on...)
(Hey now...)
(All you children...)
(Leave your lights on..)
(You better leave your lights on...)


Everyone left in the magic shop looked up as the bell over the door chimed,
and Buffy slowly walked in. Alone. Dawn, who had arrived only moments
before with Tara, felt her heart stiffen.


"Buffy?" she asked, her lower lip trembling.


Willow shot out of her seat and crossed the room, putting an arm around her
friend, greatly disturbed by the lost look in her face.


"What happened?" the witch asked, biting her lip. Buffy shook her head. The
redhead opened her mouth to speak. "Where's Spike?"


As Willow said those words, Buffy choked back a sob.


"I...I lost him. There was fighting, and then he was gone...I looked for
ashes...I couldn't find any...." She broke down in earnest now, clutching at
Willow for support.


Flicking a glance to Giles, Willow guided the distraught Slayer to a chair.
Buffy fell forward and sobbed into her arms.


"He could be dead...somewhere...and we'd never know! He could be gone for
good..." she gasped out between tears.


Dawn felt tears slipping down her cheeks. She had lost so much, her Mom,
then her sister. It didn't matter that her sister was back now, she still
remembered the pain of losing her. She couldn't lose Spike. But she kept
it together.


"You'll find him, Buffy.." she whispered, wrapping her arms around her
sister. "You will..."


///


(Cause there's a monster..)
(Living under my bed...)
(Whispering in my ear...)
(And there's an angel...)
(With her hand on my head....)
(She say I got nothin' to fear...)
(But there's a darkness...)
(Living deep in my soul...)
(It's still got a purpose to serve...)
(So let your light shine...)
(Deep into my hole...)
(God, don't let me lose my nerve...)
(Don't let me lose my nerve...)


Spike came awake slowly, drifting back to awareness with the sluggishness
of one who'd slept for days. His eyes fluttered open, confused, trying to
figure out where he was.


"He awakens..." a soft voice spoke.


He licked his lips, stormy blue eyes darting around. He was chained,
again, though this time his feet were on the floor, much to his relief. He
was in a small cavern, underground, he could tell, by the coolness in the
air. A single torch lit the area in flickering waves, throwing shadows
around the cavern.


"No threats of violence?" the sublime voice continued. "Not what I
expected from William the Bloody..."


Spike cleared his throat, his head still aching from the blast from the
chip that had knocked him out.


"Who are you?" he asked, his voice sounding more cracked than he had
wanted.


She chuckled softly, stepping into his view. She looked weak, this
woman...vampire, he corrected, as he heard no heartbeat. She was very thin
and pale, a waif of a creature. Long, plaited black hair hung down her
shoulders in waves, extending past her waist.


"I am Kahamet, lover. And you are mine."


Spike scoffed, a little of his brashness returning.


"Like 'ell I am. Listen, you stupid git, let me go or.."


"Or what?" she interrupted. "You will curse at me from your bindings?"
she chuckled again. "Amusing, yes. A threat? No." she moved closer. "I
need you, Bridge. You will restore my health. It is your destiny. Why not
just accept it? You should be honored."


Spike rolled his head, and laughed, pulling at the chains.

"No one'd be 'honored' to be 'round you, luv. Got some scent issues..."


"Silence!" she barked, cracking him across the face with the back of her
hand. Not weak, he corrected, spitting out blood from a split lip. What
was it about it him that caused amazingly strong bitches to want to put him
in chains and make him bleed?


"You will help, no matter what you think. It is your nature." she grinned
sadistically, pulling out a long silver blade. Oh great, he thought, here
comes the bleeding part. He was suddenly reminded of the vision he had had,
after feeding off Buffy, of Drusilla, reminding him not to let them bleed
him. He found himself very disturbed.


"In your weakest state, you are nothing but an animal." she continued,
running the blade over his chest lightly, not drawing blood, but eliciting a
shiver from him. "You will do whatever I command. You know it."


"Sod off," he bit out bitterly. I am so royally fucked, he thought. She
lashed out again, smashing him in the nose with the butt of the blade.
Cursing, he shied back on instinct, turning his head to the side.


"Ahh...There you are." she whispered. Before he could turn his head to
look at her, he felt her fangs sink into his throat.


His eyes widened and he jerked, coughing out a yelp of surprise more than
of pain. It didn't hurt all that much, of course, but he struggled nonetheless.
Nothing felt more violating than to have one's life blood drained away by someone
stronger. Irony, he thought, feeling himself weaken. Now he knew how his victims
had felt.


He was finally able to lift up his leg and knee her away from him. She
chuckled manically, wiping away a touch of his blood from her lips.


"Delicious," she purred, watching him for a moment. He was breathing
hard, and wondering why, since he didn't have to breathe. Habit, he supposed.
He just hung there, glaring at her, trembling.


"Stay the hell away from me."


She giggled, swaying softly, and came closer.



(Hey now..)
(All you sinners..)
(Put your lights on...)
(Put your lights on...)
(Hey now...)
(All you children...)
(Leave your lights on...)
(You better leave your lights on...)


He kicked out blindly at her, with force enough to crack a brick wall. She
caught his ankle easily, clucking her tongue. She hit him again, hard, his
cheekbone cracking under the pressure. His vision swam, and she pressed up against
him, tilting his head to one side and biting into his flesh once more, making a new
mark on the side she hadn't touched.


He stiffened again, his eyes lolling. He could feel himself slipping away.
He knew if he did, she would have her beast. He wouldn't be able to control himself,
drained dry and starved for blood.


(Cause there's a monster...)
(Living under my bed...)
(Whispering in my ear...)
(And there's an angel...)
(With her hand on my head...)
(She say I got nothin' to fear...)


He summoned up the last of his strength, struggling uselessly. She enjoyed
it too much, purring as she drained him. Finally, as his vision darkened, he
pulled up the image of his girls, Buffy and Dawn, holding on to it, with
everything he had, willing himself to stay conscious.


(She said...)
(Hey la la...)
(We oughtta shine like stars...)


His eyes were glazed and unseeing, finally, when she pulled away. He hung
loosely, his breath slower than a mortal could stand, keeping the habit up,
concentrating on the pictures in his head. Buffy. Dawn.


(Don't let me fade away.......)

Willow was still trying to console her friend, ten minutes after Angel and Cordy had
arrived.


"Buffy, you would know if he was dead..er...You're bound, remember? You can
find him if you concentrate. Come on!" the witch gently shook her sobbing
friend. "Crying isn't going to help right now!"


Buffy sniffled and looked up, staring at all of them for a moment, before
blinking slowly, one last tear sinking from her eyes.


"You're..you're right." She wiped at her face angrily, and stood, shaking her
arms out as if they were sore. "We've got work to do; I don't have the time
to break down."


She looked expectantly to Giles, who met her gaze and ripped his
glasses off, tossing them down on the table next to the book he was poring
through.


"I wish I had a solution for you, but I have nothing new to offer. All the
writings simply repeat the same litany: the world will end if the Bridge,
which we have established as being Spike, is destroyed. You, as the Child in the
prophecy, must eventually sell your soul for him. The binding was essential for one
reason: that we might have a chance to stop whoever took Spike from killing
him, by finding him before that happens. The rest is just bloody riddles and
nonsense."


Buffy sighed, and crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly.


"So what are we supposed to do?" she asked, a hint of pleading in her
voice.


"Try and get some rest, Buffy. At least an hour. Then, we'll work together
to locate Spike. For now, that is all we can do. I will continue here with
Xander and Anya. Willow?" He looked to the witch. "I want you and Tara to
find a spell of some sort, anything that could help us. Perhaps, barring
horrible dreams, something akin to what we did to defeat Adam. Angel? Call
Faith, and get her here as soon as possible. Pull strings, do whatever it takes,
but get her out of prison and get her here. We need all the power we can muster."


Angel nodded and left his post next to Cordy, moving to the phone.
Willow, after an uncomfortable shared look with her estranged lover, followed
the girl up the stairs into the upper level of the shop.


Buffy rolled her shoulders, feeling totally useless. She absently
petted Dawn's hair, knowing that her sister was being strong for her sake,
but was as torn up about this as she was. The youngest Summers gave her a
small smile.


"Go sleep. I'll hold down the fort," she said with a shy grin.


Buffy gave a forced chuckle and nodded. She moved off toward the
training room, giving one last look around the busy room, and disappeared
behind the door.


///

Buffy dreamed.


She stood in a dark room, surrounded by the scent of blood. Firelight
flickered, throwing haphazard shadows at the walls. Spike hung motionless
in chains, his head resting against his chest.


She started towards him, when a woman appeared before her, laughing. Rage
flowed through the Slayer, and she whipped out her stake, shoving it into
the vampiress's heart. Buffy looked up to smirk at the bitch before she
turned to dust, and her heart leapt into her throat. It was Spike that
stared at her, confusion on his face, before he disintegrated.


She woke up screaming, hugging her knees to her chest. Gulping in air like
a woman drowning, she pushed off the mat that served as a makeshift bed and got to
her feet, trembling.


"Giles!" she stormed out into the main room.


All eyes turned to her.


"I had another dream, and there was this woman, and I killed her, but then
it was Spike that I killed, and does this mean I kill Spike?" her lower lip
trembled.


"Oh, Buffy, no." Giles rose from his seat, moving to give his Slayer a much
needed hug. "No....It could mean many things....You mustn't assume the worst. I
don't think a literal interpretation is called for...."


She pushed away from him, pacing.


"That's not good enough, Giles! I need to know what to do!"


Angel cleared his throat.


"I got Faith out. She's on her way, she'll be here in a few hours.
Until then, we just wait."


Buffy turned her rage-filled eyes on him for a moment, before calming. She
took a deep breath.


"Well, now I can't sleep. I'm going to train." She spun on her heel and
returned to the training room.



///



The scent was what woke him. Lapping at his battered senses like the
moon-driven waves, snapping him to attention when he would rather return to the
dreamless sleep of unconsciousness. It had first touched his nose, flowing
through his nostrils like a snake, jerking his head up and his eyes open.


Through the dim haze that had become his world, he saw the woman again,
holding a silver chalice. It was important, somehow, this place, this
woman, but he couldn't remember. As she came closer, he watched her
curiously, something tugging at his memory that just didn't want to
register. The pictures of the girls, the blonde and beautiful one, and the
slighter dark-haired one, kept floating past his eyes. THEY were important,
he knew. It pissed him off that he couldn't remember their names. But they
were important. He held onto that.


The woman (a name -- Kahamet -- for a moment, before it was lost again)
held the cup out to him, passing it under his nose. He finally recognized what it
was before him, and his body sang with bloodlust, sweeping away everything
else. The girls floated at the edges of his vision, not quite pushed away,
but at this moment, the blood was more important.


He licked his lips, straining his head out to taste the cup, but she pulled
it back. He whimpered and bucked in his chains, not even wondering WHY he
was chained. He hurt so bad, and the scent of the blood was pulling sharply at his
dead veins.


"Shh, lover. Just showing you who is in control here," the woman
whispered, and then brought the cup back to him.


He lapped at it like a dog, until she tilted it, allowing it to fill
his mouth before he swallowed, his parched lips and throat screaming in
exultation. But it wasn't enough. Oh lord, it wasn't enough, as the cup
emptied and she pulled it away. He licked his lips again, whimpering,
knowing only that he wanted more, but not recalling how to ask for more.


As the small amount of blood rejuvenated him slightly, the girls returned
to his foremost thoughts, their faces replacing that of the woman's before him.
Buffy. Dawn. Their names! He smiled a little, before letting his body
relax again, sweeping himself back into the sleep of the dead. They were
important, he knew.


///


When he awoke again, she was still there, and had the cup again. But he
didn't remember her from before, from when she had fed him earlier, from
when he had been captured. Nothing but the now, and the girls. Such pretty
girls, they were. He wondered where he had seen them. That thought was
shrugged aside as she gave him the cup again, replaced by the ecstasy of the
blood.


She gave him three more cups before he became something of himself again.
Spike. Yeah, that's who he was, William the fucking Bloody. She must have
registered the change in his eyes.


"It's almost time, Bridge," she said casually as she set the cup down.
She looked a lot better, thanks to his blood, he guessed. He snarled, remembering
that Buffy was counting on him. He had to keep her here, with him. Her and
Dawn.


Kahamet approached, using one hand to hold his back against the wall
before sinking her teeth into his already sore throat. This time, it ached. He
threw curses at her, struggling while he could, while he was once again
drained of his lifeblood. His knees weakened and his struggling stopped.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he called out with all his being to his Slayer,
before the light melted before him, and darkness overtook him. The cycle
began again for the fourth time.


///


Buffy, pacing, suddenly stopped, her muscles tensing, her eyes wide. Her
hand flew to her throat, as if she were injured, and she moaned, sinking to
her knees.


"Oh god.." she said as the world swam back into focus. Spike needed her.
For a second there, she had sworn she was feeling his pain.


Angel and Xander were at her side, helping her to her feet.


"What happened?" the vampire asked, steadying her with a strong arm.


"This binding thing...." she whispered, staring around her wildly for a
moment. "I know where Spike is."


At that moment, the bell chimed to announce someone entering the Magic Box.
Nine heads whipped around, looking to the newcomer.


Faith stood, a bag slung over her shoulder, her hair in tangles. She still
wore a prison uniform. She almost appeared sheepish, which was laughable,
considering who they were looking at. She looked at the floor, before
looking up again and meeting Buffy's eyes for a moment.



"Hey B." she said, with a little wave.


Silence.


A sly grin from the dark haired Slayer took in all in the room.


"So, you guys miss me or what?"

///

Faith absently chewed on her thumb, listening to the others' plan. She hung
back, leaning against the counter, not sure of her place anymore. After
all, she had tried to kill most of them in the past. They had no reason to
trust her.


Angel had given her a friendly hug when she walked in, which she stiffly
returned. No one else had said more than two words to her, aside from
business.


"We have to get Spike out first." Buffy said, crossing her arms.

At a look from Xander, she added. "Not just because I love him. If he's
killed, if the bridge is destroyed, the world ends. Right?" she asked,
turning to Giles for confirmation.


"Yes. I believe it has something to do with the balance that the powers
strive so hard to keep. Spike is the gray, he is both good and evil, and
someone connects to the two sides to one another. If he is killed, it will
be akin to cutting a thread in the center; both sides will fly apart. The
balance will be overthrown."


Buffy nodded, chewing on a hangnail.


"So.." Xander started. "We mount up, bust in, crack heads, get Spike out.
This chick you saw can't have that many minons...."


He looked around the table. "Right?"


"We've no idea what stands before us, but, sadly, Xander's plan, such as it
is, seems to be the most viable...." Giles sighed.


"Alright. Weapons. Xander, axe, stakes of course." The blonde Slayer
once again took charge.


"Willow? You're going to have to use big magic." she met her friend's eyes.
"Can you handle it?"


The redhead sighed, sliding a glance to Tara. "If...if Tara helps...I
think I can do it...."


Tara gave her a slight smile.


"Alright then. No sunlight spells, we've got two vamps on our side. Anya?
Can you stay here with Dawn?"


Dawn stood up, pouting.


"But, Buffy, I want to help! Spike is MY friend too..."


"Dawn, Buffy's right, we can't risk you, alright?" Angel said, earning a
glare from the girl that could curdle milk.


She slumped back into her seat, crossing her arms.


"Fine."


Anya nodded, keeping an eye on Faith, who was too close to the cash
register for her liking, given what she had heard about the girl's past.


"I can do that."


Faith gave her a snarky grin.


"What do I do, B?"


Buffy finally turned her eyes to the other Slayer, before looking away
again.


"Just...back me up. Kill anything that moves that's not us or Spike. You're
good at that." Her voice sounded slightly bitter.


Faith winced, and raised both eyebrows. She stretched an arm and muttered
under her breath.


"Ouch..."


No one seemed to hear her.


"Daybreak is in an hour. We'll hit it then, easier kills." Everyone
nodded. "Till then, rest, do...whatever...."


Finally backing down from leader Slayer mode, Buffy hugged herself and
turned away from the group.


Anya gathered up Dawn's things, figuring it best to take her home before
everything went down. The sulking girl in tow, she turned back and looked
at the room.


"I hope nobody dies. Good luck!" she said cheerily. Then flicked a
glance to Faith. "Don't steal anything."


And she and Dawn were gone.


///



Spike slumped to the floor as the chains were removed. Confused, since all
he had known were the chains, he looked up at his captor.


She smiled, petting him on the head like a dog.


"It's time, lover. You'll get fed if you do as I say."


Spike nodded, wide-eyed. She had his full attention at the word 'fed'.


"Rise." she commanded.


He tried. He really did. But his legs wouldn't hold the weight of his
body. Everything hurt, but that was alright. All he knew was pain. Must
be the way things are.


She chuckled lightly, and leaned down, grabbing his arm and hauling him to
his feet. She dragged him to the center of the room, and released him. He
fell back to the floor, hardly able to keep himself in a sitting position.


She gave him a patronizing smile and knelt before him. He didn't notice
the circle drawn in black coal around them both, or the candles placed at
strange intervals, or the demons and men chanting.


She picked up the silver athame, toying with the blade for a moment, before
handing it to him. He looked at it, confused, before looking up at her
again.


Her eyes flickered with amusement, and a smile tugged at her lips once
again.


"You will draw the blade across my wrist when I say. And then, you will
feed until I tell you to stop. Are we clear?"


At the hungry look in his eyes, and the twitching of his hands toward her,
she glared.


"WHEN I say, William."


Something sparked. Only for a moment. He frowned, trying to latch onto
the memory, and growling in frustration when it danced just beyond his
reach. The girls were still there, though. They were important. He
didn't know why.


She took his growl differently, thinking he was simply frustrated he
couldn't feed yet. She made a gesture, and the chanting grew louder.


Her arms spread out before her, her head lolling back slightly. She took
up the chant as well, intoning the words perfectly. The air crackled with
the power of the magics being cast.


Spike fidgeted. He didn't care about their silly chanting. He just wanted
to be fed. And they were taking too long. He whimpered a little, but was
good, and didn't try to move or take the woman's blood before he was told.


Something tingled at the back of his neck, and the pictures of the girls
grew stronger, the blonde more so than the other. He frowned and pushed
them to the side again. There were more important things going on at the
moment.


The chanting continued, swelling, rising. He was slightly frightened, the
magic made him feel itchy and strange, but he ignored it. More important
things. The girls tried to enter his vision again.


"Now, lover!" Kahamet cried, throwing her head back up to meet his eyes.


That's all it took. His weak and shuddering arms reached out, grabbing her
wrist with one hand and slashing hard with the blade in the other. Seeing
the blood welling up on her skin, he hesitated.


But only for a moment. Bloodlust soon swept him out of control, and he
latched his mouth onto her wrist, pulling in huge draughts of her blood,
filling his nearly empty veins.


It was glorious. Living, pumping blood. Much better than the cups that he
barely remembered. He was sure he would remember this. He continued to
drain her, shuddering and purring.


Kahamet's eyes gleamed and flashed, azure and red mixing with the dark
brown of her iris.


"The die has been cast..." she grinned, watching her new pet drain her.

Buffy waited for everyone to catch up. She knew that she was hurrying, but
she had a right to, damn it. The sight of her lover crumbling to dust
before her kept flashing back, leaving her shuddering. The dream haunted
her. But so did the cavern they were about to enter.


It was where she had died the first time. The lair of the Master, an
ancient vampire as ugly as he was powerful. He had drunk from her, the
first vampire to ever sink his fangs into her neck. Angel had been second.
Then Dracula. And Spike.


She still had nightmares about drowning. Being unable to move, as water
choked her mouth and nose, filling her lungs with each traitorous breath. All
because she had once drowned in this very place, only to be brought back to life
with Xander's breath.


This time, when she had died, she had been brought back confused. But
suffocating nonetheless; her coffin held no air. Her nightmares of waking
where they left her haunted her sleep almost every night. It was the same as
drowning, in a way. Not being able to breathe, dirt replacing the water
that had once choked her.


She was forced from her disturbing thoughts when Xander pushed up against
her back. No one spoke as they joined her, waiting for her word. The plan
was simple. Dust the lead vampire. Rescue Spike. Leave in peace.


As her grip tightened on the sword in her hand, she was suddenly frightened
that they hadn't planned enough. What if it didn't work? What if the head-on
rush wasn't effective? Should she have sent Faith or Angel in first as a distraction?
Or perhaps they had planned too long and would arrive too late?


She listened. Noises came from the room beyond the mouth of the cave, soft
chanting voices. Low growls. A little bit of light flickered through the
entrance, not touching the party that stood waiting in the shadows.


Taking a deep breath, she raised her arm, signaling the others, and rushed
into the room.


///


Spike pulled his head back, gasping. He was waking again, with the taste
of fresh blood on his lips. His eyes rolled as he tried to look around, to get
his bearings.


Kahamet knelt before him. He growled, his eyes flashing amber, and
released her arm as if it had burnt him. She laughed.


He scrambled back, rising shakily to his feet. She was on him in an
instant, so fast even he couldn't follow her movements. She grabbed him
roughly.


"Told you..." she whispered, sliding her fingers into his hair and yanking
his head back to bare his throat.


He spit and struggled, cursing, but fighting her was like fighting a brick
wall. He couldn't even move an inch in her grasp.


The chanting from the men around them grew louder. She bent with a smile
and sank her fangs into his neck once again.


His entire body stiffened. He couldn't even cry out. This time was
different. The pain was incredible. It felt as if everything he was was
being drawn away in agonizing draughts. The pull tugged on his veins, his mind,
his dead heart.


His eyes finally rolled back in his head, his mouth slack. All he could
see was light. When she abruptly released him, some unknown force kept him
on his feet, swaying slightly. For him, time stilled.



///


Buffy felt rage ignite and burn through her at the scene she took in upon
bursting into the room. Spike, limp in the arms of the vampire bitch.


She screamed, slashing through the first two minions to come at her, their
dust settling behind her as she continued on to her goal. The bitch. She was
going to die.


At the scream, the vampire released Spike, who remained standing even
though he seemed unconscious. Light twisted around him, red in streaks
like licking flames flowing up his form. Fear didn't even have a chance to
grip the Slayer's heart. She was too pissed off.


Kahamet stepped in front of her captive, smirking at the blonde rushing her
way.


"You've interrupted my ritual, girl. Luckily, I have drunk enough."


Buffy stepped forward and swung her sword at the vampire's midsection.


"Not so lucky. That's my boyfriend you've got."


The vampire moved backward, the blade arcing inches away from her. And
before Buffy knew what had happened, Kahamet had kicked the blade out of her
hands. The force of the blow smashed one of the Slayer's hands, and sent
her reeling.


She lifted her head, checking on the others, who were engaged in battle
with minions and human monks. She saw Angel get thrown into large ceremonial brazier, smashing the stand to bits, scattering the wooden legs about the room. He scrambled to his feet before the deadly flame would burn him to badly, though one of his arms was now useless.


Fire began to spread, igniting in patches of minons, dusting quite a few. Giles knelt, chanting, Willow at his side, holding an energy barrier about the both of them. Xander was backed against the wall, struggling with two vampires, his axe slashing the air before them. Faith fought like a wild cat, kicking and screaming, tearing through lesser minons with fevor.


Buffy rolled forward just in time, the vampire's fist grazing her head; jarring her, and
snatched up a long piece of wood, one of the legs from the broken brazier. Getting quickly to her feet, she spun and
connected a vicious kick to her foe's jaw, barely even phasing the woman.
Her fight with Glory suddenly sprang into her mind.


"Stupid girl. You think you can harm me? I have been restored!"


Faith was at her side then, wiping away blood from a split lip.

"No, but we can." and the dark haired Slayer attacked. She rushed at Kahamet, who easily side stepped her, and punched her hard in the back of the head, sending her kareening into the far wall. Faith crumbled, motionless.


Buffy stared wide-eyed, the rage bubbling in her again, with a scream, she swung the wood like a baseball bat the vampire's head. It smashed into her temple, splintering at the end, making it sharper.


Buffy blocked a punch from Kahamet with her arm, pain lacing up to
her shoulder as she did so. The second punch caught her in the jaw,
spinning her around and knocking her to the ground. Blood poured from her
mouth.



"See? You understand my power now?" The vampire raised her foot to
crush Buffy's head.



Buffy flipped quickly back up on to her feet, the woman's foot crashing
beside her, cracking the stone. She head-butted her forcefully, knocked her back
a few steps, and then shoved the long, sharp piece of wood into her heart.


"Bitch." she spat out. "Understand my power?"


Rage, then fear contorted Kahamet's face before she vanished in a cloud
of dust.


Buffy's breath stilled. Pain blossomed in her chest over her heart,
spreading slowly to encompass the rest of her body.


All of her rage drained away as she stared up at Spike's eyes, which met
hers through the dust filling the air. Between them, the piece of wood that
had dispatched his captor, the end of which was buried nearly three inches
in Spike's own chest.


"No!" Buffy screamed, the word seeming slow and soft to her own ears, as
she watched the myriad of emotions cross her lover's face. Shock. Pain.
Then love. Only love. The strange firelike light around him became a
whirlwind about them both, sparks of energy dancing across its surface.


Spike reached out a shaking hand, as if to touch her. The finger nearly
reached her, before it began to crumble away, glittering dust swept up in
the whirlwind.


Tears poured down Buffy's cheeks. Her eyes locked on his, watching in
silent agony as he slowly crumbled to dust.

Her life with him, from nearly four years ago, when the sound of his
clapping had signaled her first glimpse of him, to their first time together
in the house that had fallen down around the passion of their coupling. The
way he always knew what she was thinking, almost as if he could read her
mind.


His eyes were the last to go.


Motes of dust glittered around her.



"No!" She screamed again.



Time stilled. The whirlwind stopped. Sweeps of golden hair hung in the
air, as if caught in jelly. Soft dust colored the room. None fell. The
sun stopped moving. Darkness fell, and all was silent.




~To Be Continued~

Part 16:

Part 17:

Part 18: