Spike pressed himself against the wall of a darkened alley adjoining the one north of the Hyperion Hotel. He was tired, bloodied, wet but still on alert. Bloody hell, it was getting hot. How can it be so hot and yet the rain be so cold? No one else had shown yet. Bugger.

Well, he had disposed of his task rather quickly; a little disappointing actually, he was expecting a nicer brawl. Still, not bad work with Junior handicapping him by one arm, cute little tyke actually gurgled as he was slashing through the Fell.

Thankfully Peaches didn’t see him looking all Obi Wan. Could not believe it had been so easy to sneak inside, hello, vampire scent does not smell like Fell. He really should have taken offense.

Little Mamma was happy seeing Junior again. Spike frowned. Morsel’s Da though still was not in the best of health. But Spike figured the money and the new identities would help sort out that family nice and proper like.

Spike tensed as he sensed a familiar smell. Then relaxed, just Peaches complete with broadsword, he stepped out to make his presence known. “Boo.”

“Anyone else?”

“Not so far. You feel the heat?” Spike asked needing to make sure he was not the only one feeling this. Earlier in the day, he had begun questioning whether he had been changed after coming back to his unlife from the big pile of ashes. It tore at his soul that he was even second guessing himself.

Angel nodded, “It’s coming.”

Covering his relief from Peaches’ answer, Spike said, “Finally got ourselves a decent brawl.”

Spike saw Gunn running down the street, carrying his proudly homemade battle-axe. “Damn! How did I know the fang boys would pull through?” He frowned as he noticed Gunn’s run become first a jog and then a weak stumble. “You’re lucky we’re on the same side, dogs, ‘cause I was on fire tonight. My game was tight.”

Spike quickly, with Angel’s help, caught Gunn before he fell and helped him onto a box.

Human blood. Gunn was hurting worse than he was trying to show. He understood, but still he had to look at the wounds. “You’re supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy.”

Spike had to hand it to Gunn. Charlie had only then seemed to notice his wounds and quickly dismissed them, rather he asking, “Any word on Wes?”

As the words left Gunn’s lips, Illyria jumped down from the chain-link fence standing behind Angel. Blue did know how to make an entrance Spike mused.

Illyria answered the question left hanging in the air. “Wesley’s dead.”

Spike hung his head for a moment in deference to the ex-Watcher. He had grown sort of fond of that bastard. Man, did know his scotch, the 12-year Lagavulin, wished he had copped some off of him.

The roar of a crowd has begun to grow in volume. The heat had increased at least fifteen degrees more since Angel first entered the alley.

Blue had earlier let slip to him that she had become more human since Wes had ray gunned her. Spike watched fledgling emotions flash across her once ice-cold face. She surprised him by admitting it. Little Shiva gritted out, “I’m feeling grief for him. I can’t seem to control it. I wish to do more violence,”

“Well, wishes just happen to be horses today.” Spike told her over the din of the crowd.

Angel agreed, “Among other things.”

Spike swiveled to his right in time to watch the horde of demons turning the corner at the entranceway to the street leading into the alley. Bloody hell. A sense of déjà vu swept over him. Just put in him in under the Sunnyhell High with thousands of uber grand pappies. Except the ubers were prettier. Spike saw perhaps thousands of assorted hellspawn and oh look a dragon. Hadn’t seen one of those since the Bad-Perm Bitch’s Tower.

He heard Gunn shouting, “OK. You take the 30,000 on the left…”

“You’re fading. You’ll last 10 minutes at best.” Smurfette always a fount of positivity.

Gunn, a true soldier, stood up, “Then let’s make ‘em memorable.”

Angel had stepped toward the crowd, so he followed. Charlie and Shiva behind him. Just like the in the old days, Spike mused here he was standing on his Grand Sire’s right. He felt better that Charlie boy was standing beside him, thinking he could keep him from harm at least for a little while. It was a thought anyway. Bluebell was on Angel’s other side.

Secretly, he loved the fact that Angel had rejected all Angelus’ instincts. Wondered if Angel realized he was doing it? That Tit would have never allowed himself to be back up against a wall of any sort. Hell, he had even threatened to end my unlife for causing such trouble.

Recalling Yorkshire in 1880, how he had incited that mob. Angelus had been seriously pissed. Told him right off that he preferred getting caught. “All out fight in a mob, back against the wall, nothing but fists and fangs.” Poofter actually threatened him with a metal stake.

No, the Insufferable One only fought battles he had known he could win.

“In terms of a plan?” he asked Angel.

“We fight,” Angel stated. Well pin a rose on Captain Obvious.

“Bit more specific,” he tried asking again.

Angel had stepped forward as the demon horde began their attack. “Well personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon. Let’s go to work.”

With that, Angel swung his sword beheading some beastie. Blue went to work knocking holes in the heads of three unrecognizable demons. In fact, Spike was not sure what he was fighting. He had immediately had gone into game face disarming some creature that had tusks. He almost had fang envy.

Katana in hand, Spike began exacting a fair amount of damage. Charlie boy was fighting off some 10-ft tall hairy beast and losing. So, he made his way over to Gunn, sliced the fur ball’s kneecaps and finished it off with a beheading stroke.

“Stay close. Be my backup. Don’t make me eat you, Charlie,”

“OK, got your six.”

All of sudden, Spike’s senses went on high alert. Powerful magic was being used. Burnt olive smell. Was that glitter?

***POP***

Spike’s eyes couldn’t believe who he saw standing before him.

“Hey there, Sexy Resurrected, heard you might need our help.” Faith grinned as she, Rona and Dana joined in the battle.

A/N: Pre-battle dialogue taken from “Never Fade Away.” Flashback Yorkshire dialogue taken from BTVS “Fool for Love.”

“Faith, what the bleedin’ hell are you bints doin’ here?” Spike shouted as he was fighting two rank smelling demons. Sometimes vamp smell could be a pain in the arse. “S’not that I’m not thrilled at seeing you Rogue, but it’s that ya brought Tender Roni and the recently released psychotic slayer who hacked off my hands with you. T’was nice of ya to ‘pop’ in to visit with your lovely toys though.”

“It’s five by five, Studly…but let’s bash now, chat later.” Faith said as she went off somewhere down the alley.

“Yeah, Faith, what are you doing here.” Gunn hollered after her and panted, “Who’s the fine honey with the dreads?”

“Honey, never call me honey, cue ball. Name’s Rona. Duck.” Rona ordered as she swung her sword over Gunn’s head.

Rona glanced over at Spike, “Hey Billy boy, I heard what you called me,” smiling, “I missed you too. Don’t die again.” Rona plunged back into the fray.

Spike located Angel. He did not know whether Peaches had seen their unexpected backup arrive. Angel had climbed up the fire escape to the top of the building and looked as if he was preparing to dive onto the approaching dragon. He did have to have all the fun, didn’t he.

Spike’s forearms screamed at him to flee. He turned to see that Dana had approached him from behind. She had killed five demons he had not seen.

In the short time the slayer trio had arrived, Dana had already become the most bloodied but not with her own. Bollocks if she wasn’t a vision right out of “Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” Blood covered her hair that was drawn into two pigtails, her ‘Hello Kitty’ t-shirt, jeans and pink sneakers. It was the pink sneakers that probably wigged him the most. The sneakers had those little friendship pins attached to the shoelaces he remembered seeing popular in the Eighties. As if their last little dance didn’t prove the lass had gone daft in the melon, the sight of her decked out like some anime babe on LSD sealed the deal.

“Hello, Luv, fancy seeing you again,” he said cautiously holding the katana in a non-threatening position, but still having it at the ready.

“Spike…I know now it wasn’t you. Sorry I cut off your hands. I know you’re not a bad man anymore. I help you now,” she said drawing out the sentences much as she had before, like a little child.

Dana then leaped at Spike grabbing him by his duster. She stopped, smiled and then squeezed him in a quick hug only to then run off giggling.

Spike stood stock-still. The psychotic little chit just hugged him. What was his unlife coming to? Had he been shifted to an alternate universe? He remembered Red talking about the world where the Great-Great Grand Dolt had made both her and the Whelp vamps. What poor taste, a vamped Whelp…he barely stood him in Sunny-D…how could he have fared with the possibility of an eternity with that brain trust?

He needed to stop his musings and get back to the smash and bash. He would figure this all out later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later.

Spike could only roll his eyes. Great, now the Poofter had gone and done it.

“Good show, Peaches…or should I just call you Angel the Dragon Slayer now. I tell you it brings a tear to the eye, it does,” Spike teased over the fray.

“Shut up, Spike. My one dragon, for how many hundreds for you…don’t tell me. I know you’re keeping count.”

“Well, yeah.”

Spike had re-accessed their situation. Hundreds of the thousands had been slaughtered. Angel had downed the dragon. Everyone still was on his or her feet more or less.

Angel had acquired an axe somehow and was helping a demon shed those unwanted stomach pounds. Gunn had been rushed to a side alley by Tender who was using her Hellmouth learned medic skills to bandage the boy, while keeping any of those too interested in, turning Charlie into a meal, sorry to have looked his way. Psycho was happily slicing and dicing and singing her way through the melee. Blue Thunder was living up to the name coined by Gunn, by leaving destruction in her wake. Rogue was a little worse for wear but holding her own, her leather jacket had seen better days though.

Spike motioned to Angel looking over at Faith. Angel nodded. They both fought their way over to Faith helping her get rid of some hulky stone-like creatures. Spike noticed that both Angel and Faith looked like they had dealt with their kind before.

“Spike, try to tear out a piece of their skin…it’s the only thing that kills them,” Angel growled.

“Right then. Ok Mr. Rocky Horror, how bout giving me a little chip off the ol’ block.”

Angel groaned, “Spike, you have got to be kidding me with that one.”

Faith just smirked, “Gotta say, damn, Bleachy I missed you. No one appreciates my catch phrases. I’ve been trying out a few in honor of your unpassing.”

~~~~~

Ten minutes later.

The battle still raged on. Spike had, by now, lost count of his kills. Not that it mattered. They still seemed to keep coming. Even he had started to tire.

When Faith had asked Angel about Wes, Faith seemed to gain some second wind upon learning of his demise. He had heard of her homicidal tendencies, but had never seen them in action. Bluebell had sensed Faithy’s incredible pain for Wes and begun to fight by her side.

At first, Spike noticed Faith had to overcome her initial shock of Blue’s appearance. Illyria morphed briefly into Fred and back again, so Faith would not attack her by accident.

“What the hell happened to you Fred?” Faith asked.

“Winfred Burkle or Fred is no longer. Fred as she was called is the shell in which I have been sentenced to live out my existence. Wesley loved Fred. Wesley was helping me learn to live in this world despite how I entered it. I feel grief for him like you. More violence must be shed for him. My wrath is not yet complete,” explained Illyria.

“For Wes,” Faith whispered and followed Big Blue slaughtering tens of hundreds in their vengeance.

~~~~~

Five minutes later.

Spike’s patience was wearing thin. Dana had been fighting by his side, humming some vanilla pop princess’ song that was making him want to just let the hulking purple lion-faced demon have at her. “Shut it you silly bint,” he growled.

“Music helps me. My Watcher told me you liked her songs. To sing them to you when I saw you. My apologies,” she said.

Dreading he knew the answer, he ventured, “Who’s your Watcher, little one?”

“The great Xander,” she beamed proudly.

Spike thanked whatever powers in the universe that were responsible for his lack of humanity at that moment, for he would have surely keeled over dead from that declaration. Bloody Xander the Great, my arse.

“Well, Pinky, lay off that rot. Now you can hum some White Stripes if ya’ like, that’d be alright.”

~~~~~

Twenty minutes later.

Spike sensed it before he realized what had happened. Then he heard Charlie cry out from the alley and Faith screaming. Something had happened to Peaches. Something bad.

He asked Blue to watch over Dana. He had already begun to overlook their previous dalliance. Yes, Pinky was starting to grow on him. It had to be the pigtails.

He rushed over to where it appeared Faith was vomiting. That wasn’t right. Rogue never got sick on a mission. She looked up at Spike with tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t get to him, Spike.”

Rona had used her jacket as a pillow under Angel’s head. Gunn was crying; his bandages peppered with bloodstains. Angel looked like he had been put upon a rack and then gored. Rona looked up at him with questioning eyes.

Guilt washed over his soul. He had lost track of Angel in the brouhaha. Angel had been off somewhere northwest of him, out of the alley and into the street. Some nasties had torn off his arms at the sockets and used something large to stick through his middle. Angel was bleeding too much to survive these wounds, despite Roni’s expert bandaging. The bleeding wasn’t stopping.

“Got ya with Holy water?” Spike asked softly. Angel nodded grimacing in pain.

Behind him, someone landed heavily on the pavement. That scent. Damn. He was not supposed to be here.

“Father?”

A/N: much thanks to my beta alwaysjbj.

A/N: Warning: Chapter contains character death. Dialogue taken from ‘Origin’ & ‘Just Rewards.’

“Father,” cried Connor as he stood from the crouched position he had landed in, Spike followed Connor’s trajectory from where he had landed. Superboy had leaped from atop the roof of the Hyperion. First Blue, now the boy, he really needed to work on his entrance. He suppressed the tickle of pride he felt for the boy. Peaches had said his nephew wasn’t going to be here.

****FLASHBACK**** Two weeks ago…

Standing in the shadows under the stairwell opposite Angel’s office, Spike had watched the boy enter Daddy’s office. He had sensed something had been off with the lad, when Peaches introduced him the other day, but he had dismissed it. Thought he had received too many punches in the nose from little Shiva to account for the scent.

The schoolboy smelled of Darla and Angel, and he just knew that couldn’t be right. Just before Peaches and the boy had entered his ‘Thunderdome,’ the filthy harlot had knocked him clear out of the room and into the hallway.

But watching the Poof, he saw an Achilles’ heel he’d never known existed. The Poof was actually unsure of how to react around the boy. The kid held all the power. From all his time with Angelus, he knew that if he had still been truly evil…had it not been for Buffy…this would have been something to exploit.

He had regained memories of learning about Connor when some box was destroyed by the ex-Watcher. He had learned that from Bluebird. Apparently, Wes had questions about Angel and Fred and had thought the box had something to do with Fred’s death. It was worse than that. Much worse!

If Buffy had known all that Peaches didn’t tell her, she would have staked him herself. Peaches knockin’ up Great-Grandma-now-Sis, Darla staking herself to save the babe, Wes thinkin’ some balls-up prophesy of ‘the father will kill the son’ applied to Peaches, Wes nabbin’ said babe and getting his throat slashed for his trouble, then the baby getting carried away to some alternate universe by the Step-Dad from Hell who just happened to have a personal hard-on for Angel.

Fast forward a few months, boy coming back a parent’s worse nightmare, a bloody teenager. The lad sleeping with evil Cordy an’ the two of them making this sodding Jasmine bitch. Then top it all off with Connor threatenin’ to detonate enough C-4 to create ocean front property for Death Valley. His head ached. Damm, he needed a stiff drink.

He remembered hearing from Dru about her turning Darla. Thinking that her coming back was not of the good. He smirked at his inner Buffy. Red had mentioned Connor after she came back from re-souling the Poof. Ruddy Angel…always losing his soul…such a nasty habit of his…need to tie a chain around it.

Buffy had not permitted herself to react to the news at all. She had been too busy being the little Miss General for the potentials.

And now he realized that when ‘tall, dark and forehead’ had come round to the Hellmouth that last time, Peaches had already had the memory spell in place. Neither he nor Buffy had remembered him having a son. What a bloody wanker!

Over the bustle of Wolfram & Hart’s employees, Spike heard Connor tell Peaches, “I need to take care of my parents. This isn’t their world. They really don’t feel safe here. You gotta do what you can to protect your family. I learned that from my father.”

He fell back further into the shadows to watch as Connor prowled out of the Poof’s office, with a predatory glint in his eye, to the elevator. Angel was watching his sprog walk away from him. He could not see it, but the boy had turned his head toward Angel causing some sort of reaction. He had to find out what that was about.

After the elevators doors closed, Spike approached Angel, “So, that’s my nephew, I take it.”

“Yeah,” Angel said, sighing wearily, “I did all this to protect him from those memories, what he did, what he almost became…and it was all for nothing. I did it all for nothing.”

“Ah mate, s’not like he looked devastated by the revelation. Seemed like he’s coping with it and all that.” Spike shifted uncomfortably. He had come into the room to poke fun, but what was the point if Angel was just pathetic. No fun to be had.

He asked, “Is he going back to the Mum and Dad? Do they know who he is?”

“No, he wants it that way. I’m… no we’re going to respect that, okay. He wants to be able to lead a normal life and except for the fact that he has super strength, he is completely human.” Angel stared directly in Spike’s eyes using his old Sire link to emphasize his point.

“Fine, s’not like I care. Don’t know the brat anyway. Just as long as Connor made the decision about his life this time, and not you. You tend to bully people into choices they didn’t want to make simply because you think it’s best for them.” Spike counted knowing that Peaches would cringe at his reference to Buffy.

“I had no choice last time with Connor’s memories Spike…you weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t. Now, I am on the piss. And no, you aren’t soddin’ well invited.”

************* Back to the Alley…

Spike noticed that while he was being concerned for Angel, the perimeter had been broken. Something needed to be done quickly.

“Roni, Blue, Pinky…I need you three to stay alert. Try to back them out. We’ve got to end this quickly. Faith and Gunn will be joining you soon. Keep it off us as long as you can.” Spike ordered.

Blue paused and stood before Angel and Connor. “You will not persist much longer. A poison designed to kill the dead and sprinkled with that noxious water of the newer God has damaged you. As a leader, you had betrayed Wesley, but he remained loyal to you. I shall abide by that loyalty and avenge you when you pass from this existence.” She then went in pursuit of her next kill.

Spike walked over to Faith, cupped her chin making her look him in the eye, “Faith… Rogue, I know you tried. I lost track of him too. He’s my Grand-Sire. Don’t ya think I feel that? No more tears, he would not want to see that. Go make your peace with him.”

Spike walked Faith over to Angel’s side. While Faith knelt beside Connor, Spike hovered over the three. He looked over at Gunn who was having trouble breathing. Damn.

“Spike. I think I can save him,” said Faith with hope in her eyes.

“What are you on about, pet?”

“Illyria said Angel’s been poisoned with the ‘Killer of the Dead.’ I (had not needed) used that on him before. That’s why Buffy allowed him to bite her…in order to save him. He could bite me. Slayer’s blood is the cure for that.” Faith offered.

“No, Faith, you can’t.” whispered Angel, “It won’t work this time. It’s too late. It wouldn’t be enough. It would take an army of slayers and an ocean more to save me now. All your slayers couldn’t do that, and I would not ask you to sacrifice yourself. Besides, they sprinkled just enough holy water to start the burn inside…only enough so I could feel myself being eaten away.”

“Father, there has to be something we can do!” Frustration and grief taking over Superboy’s stoic façade, he snapped, “Stop being such a girl! Weren’t you supposed to be the ‘Scourge of Europe,’ some major bad ass? If Holtz taught me anything, it was that Angelus always planned an escape. Come on, Father think of something to help you instead of just lying there and giving up.” He turned away to compose himself for a moment; turning back to his father he spoke once more, in a more subdued voice, "I'm sorry."

“Connor…son…I know. It’s okay. I am happy to see you, even though you aren’t supposed to be here. Spike if I didn’t know better I’d think you had a hand in his growing up.” Angel tried to smile through the pain.

Spike shrugged, “Ta’ about time the lad had a proper role model, peaches.”

“Connor, you remember Captain Peroxide here, he’s your uncle…long story and he can explain it to you. Listen to him. I love you Connor…I want you to get Gunn into the Hyperion. I’ve already had it blessed with a protection spell as a precaution. Get him safely inside. Be happy, that’s all I ever wanted for you. Don’t be angry that I’m dying okay.”

“Okay,” Connor answered quickly with a smirk. “Come on, Father, with our history, you know I had to do that. And I want you to know that I understand what you did. I love you too.” He bent down to whisper in his father’s ear, “I’ll protect them all. Bye, Father.” With that Connor touched Angel’s cheek, and then went to help Charlie inside the Hyperion’s back entrance.

“Cute kid, he’s sardonic, I like him. It’s hard to believe he’s yours and Darla’s tyke,” he said as he rolled his tongue behind his teeth and smiled.

“Yeah, he listens as well as you ever did.” Peaches muttered, “I have some things I must tell you, and we don’t have much time. In the hotel office safe, there are papers. You need them. I knew coming into this fight tonight, I wouldn’t be coming out of it. Earlier in the day, I signed away the Shanshu…”

“You what…you bleeding idiot…”

“William, shut up…it was never going to be mine. I had already realized it. And after Rome, I realized what I should have known a long time ago…she’s yours. I’ve seen the marks you’ve tried to hide, Spike. (He had slipped into his old brogue) Why do ya’ think I was so bloody angry, me boy?”

Spike was gobsmacked. The Poofter had seen Buffy’s bite marks on his neck but had never let on. Blimey. But now he recalled the glower on Angel’s face when he’d spat out “You got no idea what we had;” he realized that when he was doing his Casper impersonation Angel must have seen them.

“Angel, mate. What are you asking?”

“First, I want your blood oath to protect my son. As much as it kills me to admit this, you protect the family. You protected Dru from me at times, and I know that you keep your word. That’s who you are William. Do this for me.”

Spike had never seen such sincerity and dare he say, love, shining in the ninny’s eyes ever. Well there was that one time. His soul and demon were touched by such trust from his Grand Sire.

He took an unneeded breath. Slipping back into vamp face, he bent down to nick a cut in Angel’s neck wary of the poison. He then sliced a cut on his palm placing his cut over Angel’s neck. Letting the blood intermingle, Spike invoked, “Upon my word, as your Childer and as a member of the Order of Aurelius, I vow to protect your son ‘til I’m ashes.”

“Now William me boy, I need you to do me one last little favor. And as the Sire of your Sire, ya’ can not refuse me this,”

“What do you want me to do, Angel?” Spike responded in a hushed whisper realizing that just as Angel had slipped back into his Irish brogue, his voice had regained William’s intonations.

“Stake me, end me torment. I cannot take the pain anymore. My innards are been eaten away by both the water and the poison. Please William.”

Angel’s sorrowful gaze tore at his soul, while his demon wanted to release havoc. But havoc could not be released just yet. Sadly he nodded, whispering his agreement. He reached inside his duster for a stake. The crazy thought of that old American Express advert flashed in his head, except his would say, “Wooden stake, never leave home without one.”

“You’re still a dick, ya’ know. You shite, here’s what I have been bleeding dreaming about for a right long time, an’ you have to soddin’ ruin this moment for me by goin’ and serving yourself up to me on a ruddy silver platter. Bollocks. You know, she’s goin’ to be brassed off at this…an’ you aren’t goin’ to have to witness the fallout, you bloody wanker. No, don’t look at me like that, I’m getting’ round to it.” Right then, he positioned the stake over Angel’s heart. “Goodbye you right miserable bastard, would say it’s been a pleasure…but you’d know I’d be lying.”

With that said, Spike plunged the stake into the bane of his unlife and felt bloody wretched about doing so. As Angel turned into dust, Spike could see him form the words, “Thank you.”

~~~~~~

Flash of a rain-soaked alley filled with hideous demons. Flash of a dragon being slain by an unseen hero. Flash of a blue leather clad woman smashing holes in the faces of demons as she prowled through the horde. Flash of an image of Faith, Rona and that new girl smiling at someone. Flash of a hauntingly familiar leather duster with a hint of white blonde hair. Flashes…faster…more flashes of great battle being waged. Final flash of a bloodied and broken Angel asking someone to stake him, seeing Spike put an end to his pain.

“Angel! Spike!?!” the blonde awoke from her mid-afternoon nap. “No it can’t be. He died in Sunnydale. How could he be with Angel? Angel? Angel! Can’t be.”

Too late, Buffy felt her slayer senses scream at her. Two strong arms grabbed her from behind holding her back down on the sofa. Before she had time to seriously put a hurt on the offending party, she felt a needle being stuck in her neck. Her eyes searched for who was doing this to her and why.

As her mind began feeling fuzzy, Buffy’s heart ran ice-cold as she heard, “It’s done. My bella is ready for transport. Si, the money was received into my account. Grazie.”

The Immortal! Buffy had been sleeping with an enemy. She had to get out of here, but she couldn’t feel her arms or legs anymore. What had he given her?

“Ah, my bella, do not fret. Had you not awakened from your nap earlier than planned, you would have not had have to endure this fright.” He frowned. Why was he frowning, she thought.

“But you see, both your former pet vampires have made trouble for certain associates of mine. They have started something that is distasteful, and unfortunately for you, you must now play a part of that game.”

Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, but she managed to ask, “My pet vampires?”

The Immortal gazed upon her as if she were a little child, “Why, yes, your Angel and Spike of course.” He turned his gaze to whatever goon was behind her. “Now take her to the Wolfram & Hart office.”

‘Spike’s alive…and with Angel?’ was her last thought before the darkness completely enveloped her.
~~~~~

Beta’d by Always_jbj. Thanks to Q for her awesome help with Faith.

The sound and smell of the battle been being waged had all but disappeared to the recesses of his mind. He just kept staring at what remained of Peaches…just dust. After a hundred twenty-four years, the biggest pain of his unlife lay scattered before him. Funnily enough, he felt angry and abandoned by old broody pants.

Looking around for a can or box, Spike felt Connor just approach him. Ignoring the lad for a bit, he grabbed a metal box and began gathering Angel’s dust in it. At least the lad would have them.

“Are ya’ going to stand there or are you going to help me here?” He asked without looking up.

“Yeah, then I’ll take my revenge. He wasn’t theirs to kill…only I could do that.”

“Sorry Junior but I claimed dibs on him long before you were even the an idea in your Da’s knob. Everything’s all sixes and sevens. I know that. But let’s get him sorted and then we can dance, right.” Spike needed to take Junior under his wing…he had a promise to keep. Yeah, ‘and miles to go before I sleep,’ sod Frost.

Together they gathered the rest of Angel into the box. Spike tucked the box inside the pocket of his duster. Bloke would not want to miss the rest of the action.

Grabbing the trusty katana…he was going to have to keep this nice little toy, Spike watched as Connor picked out a battle-axe. A change had come over the boy. Even though Junior was still wearing Abercrombie & Fitch preppy wear, he looked remarkably different from when he had last seen him…this must be how he appeared as the ‘Destroyer of Quor-toth.’ Glad that the lad was on his team. Sparky was a tad scary… now he could see Angel-face in him.

“Uncle…” smiling creepily as if he was testing out a new word on his lips, Connor said, “You called it a dance…I like that analogy.”

“Okay Destructo-boy, ready to rumble?”

“Yes, just don’t get in my way…I remember seeing some of these demons in Quor-toth. I’ll make quick work of them. They’ve forgotten me…they’ll be sorry they did.”

Spike’s soul beamed with pride as he fought side-by-side with his nephew. The Destroyer and William the Bloody had cut a swathe through fifty demons in three minutes. Heads, limbs, other questionable parts had all been dismembered.

And Spike’s demon was relishing the violence. Fangs bared, fists flying, katana singing through the air…he felt as though he was almost waltzing. One…slice, two…turn, and three punch…four push. By God, it was intoxicating.

~~~~~ Spike sought out the positions of the rest of his band of merry soldiers. They needed to regroup. He knew that the sun would be up in about an hour. They had to hurry and finish this if he still wanted to be a part of it.

“Rogue, Tender, Blue, Pinky, Sparky… to me, in a V…fight and talk strategy…same time.”

Pinky was actually skipping to join him. Silly chit. Faith and Connor exchanged nods as they battled their way to meet. Blue just steamrolled her way through any idiot demon that thought her tiny size meant easy pickings…had they just arrived? Roni had tied her dreads back in a knot, blood on her brow…she was using the Docs on her feet to stomp the bloody hell out of some miserable bugger. Good girl.

“Sun’s coming up soon…an’ I have a serious aversion to being crispy…ideas are welcome…one time offer.” He said.

Rogue got a wild look in her eyes. “Girls, I think it’s time, don’t you. This party’s starting to blow…aren’t you guys getting bored?” Roni and Pinky exchanged secretive smiles.

Before he could respond, Blue beat him to the punch, “You are a strange one. You speak in riddles. You are tiring, your body weakening. This battle is too much for you, even though you three humans have more power than most. I find it tiresome that you trifle with such amusement. You three have joined our battle, but were not invited to it. It is distasteful that you mock this war. Wesley and now Angel have fallen victim to it. You mock their memories. Spike has my loyalty…he showed me Crash Bandicoot…took me outside. Angel’s son and Spike will not be mocked….”

“It’s alright, Blue…” Spike stopped her before she decided to use Faith as her new play toy. “You’ll learn that’s just how Rogue is, she didn’t mean any harm by it. An’ I took no offense.” Turning to Faith, he asked, “But I would like to know just what in the bloody hell you are on about? Time for what?”

During Blue’s diatribe, Roni and Dana had taken defending positions in front of Rogue. All three relaxed at the question. Faith nodded at the other two, who then retrieved two backpacks they had stowed behind some boxes near to where Roni had earlier placed Charlie.

Looking questionably at Faith, he asked, “What have you chits got planned, Rogue?”

“We brought some extra goodies… that Dana’s Watcher thought might come in handy.”

Spike was sure that Rogue didn’t know Pinky had let on earlier that Xander was her Watcher…for some reason she was keeping that fact under wraps. What “goodies” did the Whelp have them bring? Donuts? Snacks?

Roni opened hers first. Pulling out a portable flame-thrower, Tender put it together and lit it up, “Do you like, Billy boy? It has a range of 15-feet, and it’s collapsible so I can fold it into my backpack…neat, eh.”

“Bloody hell. Why didn’t you bring that baby out to play earlier? We could have been out of here long ago.”

“It doesn’t stay lit for very long, Spike. I’m sorry. It’s still just a prototype and can only be used for like five minutes tops. It’s for backup only,” Roni answered softly.

“S’alright…I see now.” he turned to Dana, “What’s in your bag, Pinky?”

That sound…. he’d heard it a year ago…it sings. No it couldn’t be. He closed and then reopened his eyes; he had to be to be sure that what he was seeing was real.

In Psycho Slayergirl’s hands was the deadliest weapon he had ever come across…Buffy’s Scythe.

He vamped, “What did you bints do to her? That’s Buffy’s.” He could feel Junior holding him back from attacking Dana, whose smile had turned into a confused frown. “She’s not dead…I’d feel it…so you had to do something to her to have that now. I’ll ask again…what…did…you…bints…do…to…my…Slayer?”

“B’s five by five, Spike don’t sweat it, I promise. She gave me this baby when she went to Europe. Rona and I felt terrible about what went down that night, what with throwing her out and all. But after…well you know…I took over Cleveland, and well, the scythe, it came with the package. I’m not arguing that it’s hers, man, damn straight it is! When she wants it back, it’s hers…no question! I’ll give it to her. Come on, you’re making Precious cry.”

Spike calmed a bit, noticing that in fact Pinky did have tears in her eyes…still holding the scythe like some prize she’d won at the fair. He was such a tosser. Never could stand to watch a bint cry.

“S’okay Con, you can let me go now.” Moving over to Pinky, Spike patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, his fingers protesting loudly. “Hush now ducks, no need for that…’twas a bit of a shock that’s all. Now, are you going to show me what you can do with that?”

“No toys for you, Rogue?”

“Nah, you know me, Bleachy…I like to get my hands dirty.”

“Right then, enough of the blabber…let’s get this done…we’ve got Charlie waiting for us inside the hotel. Now off with you lot.”

~~~~

With the additions of the Slayer’s scythe and the flame-thrower, the remaining hundreds of the horde were quickly culled. Battling the last remaining dregs, Spike’s senses tingled with the onset of the sun’s rising. He had to get inside and soon. No sooner than he’d thought that did he realize that the demons were beating a hasty retreat.

“They must be allergic to the sun as well.” Faith panted next to him. “We’ve got to get you inside. It looks like the shows over out here anyway.”

Spike followed his merry little troop to the back entrance of the Hyperion hotel.

~~~~~~

Interior of the Hyperion Hotel

The place could have used a good cleaning. Apparently, Peaches had not kept the place decent for company since signing with the Evil Lawyers-R-Us. Papers were strewn across the floor, cobwebs decorated the nooks and crannies, and there was an odor…sewage…a pipe must have burst. Not that he minded, place kind of reminded him of his old haunt the Factory…now that place exuded atmosphere.

As Spike was taking in the ambiance, the others had gone to work. Rona, with Connor’s help, had set up a makeshift medic station on the circular couch in the center of the room. Faith had taken out crystals from her bag and had gone about setting them at all the entrances. Brilliant-extra layer of protection, he thought. Dana was out of her sneakers and was busy cleaning the scythe and other weapons. Blue was observing Charlie, who was resting on a sofa that Connor must have pulled out for him earlier. Charlie’s heartbeat had strengthened; he was going to make it.

“Glad to see you still this side of the living, Charlie boy,” Spike teased after he had walked up to Gunn’s prone form and sniffed, “But you could use a wash…the entrails don’t suit ya.”

“Well Sid Fangless, I always considered you a winter…but that green slime does nothing for your complexion,” Gunn parried.

“Sod off you twit, you have the luxury of not having to wear it…Roni here is going to check up on you …oh and Blue here too.”

“Yes. I am happy that ‘Roni’ arrived in time to counter the damage you have received. I would have not been pleased to have witnessed your death,” added Illyria.

“Thanks, Blue Thunder…I saw you kick some righteous demon butt before I got hustled in here. Wesley would have been proud.”

“Gunn, Blue…ladies…I need to chat with Junior for a bit. Won’t be long…and then you’ll explain everything to me,” Spike stated, staring meaningfully at Faith.

“Junior…step into the office.”

~~~~~

Spike followed Connor into what appeared the office. Bookshelves, desk and chairs were still arranged as if the room had been waiting for its owner to reclaim them. He needed to clear the air with Junior, make sure no resentments would be coming back to bite him in the arse.

As he started to speak Connor rushed forth, “Uncle Spike…I’m glad he asked you. It’s strange. The memories are still so twisted, but I remember that I had wanted him dead…had actually come close several times to dusting him when I first returned. Do you know about the ocean?” He asked sheepishly.

“No, he didn’t tell me about that…just that you had issues. But what father and son don’t have ‘em.”

“I left him to die at the bottom of the ocean…sealed in a crate provided with a barred window, so he could watch the fish.” Junior kept his eyes focused on his feet, “I was so angry…I didn’t understand. It was time wasted.”

Spike couldn’t help it…he laughed. First time, in a long while he’d been able to do that. Oh, his sides were hurting…blood tears were forming. Noticing the lad’s shocked reaction, Spike quickly wiped away the tears and tried to calm the laughter, “Sorry…Con…it’s just that…bloody hell…I would have brought popcorn and paid kittens to see that. What a show and I bleedin' missed it! And you had him down there…’swimming with the fishes!’ Come on…tell me that’s not funny.”

Finally, Spike saw Sparky crack a smile. Knew he had it in him. The boy had potential, alright.

“Now,” sobering up, “Peaches told me there were some paperwork in a safe somewhere in here…you know where that might be?”

“Yes, this was my Father’s, and then Wesley’s office. The safe is over there…I still know the combination…and do I want to know why you called him Peaches?” Connor blabbed as he moved to the safe, opened it and removed its contents.

“No, you really don’t. Let’s see what me old Sire, your Da has left for us to find.”

Sorting through the papers, Spike found two envelopes addressed to him and one envelope addressed to Connor. The twit had been spot on in the alley when he said that he had known he wasn’t going to survive the battle. And he was holding the proof. Handing Junior his letter, Spike examined his.

Ever the controlling tosser, Peaches had marked ‘Open First’ and ‘Spike, Open the Other One First’ on the envelopes. Shaking his head at the nerve, Spike ripped open the second envelope. Peaches bloody knew him so well:

Spike:
I knew you couldn’t resist one last defiance, at times you were so easy to predict. If you are reading this, then Cordelia’s vision has come to pass, and I am done with my part in the bigger picture. I know you don’t cater to any Powers That Be…but they chose you for a reason. Though I am loathe seeing why. You are still a pathological, idiotic, limey piece of crap who never knew when to shut it, but you are without a doubt a brave hero.

Don’t get your knickers in a twist…this will stop being sentimental right now.

The defeat of the Circle of the Black Thorn was the sounding bell. The battle that was just waged was just the first skirmish. Lindsay was correct in that the fight is ongoing. You have some time before the major battle will be fought.

In the other envelope are copies of deeds to this hotel, some other properties, bank account numbers with pass codes and the deed to the jet. Ask Gunn. We secretly arranged the purchase of the jet under Hamilton’s not-so watchful eye. Both you and Connor are the new proud owners of my estate.

Take care of him and tell Buffy that I don’t want her to take it out on you. Be a champion, William.

Angel

Spike re-read the letter one more time then looked over at his nephew. Connor was shaking with grief. Bugger all, and the lad had been holding up so well.

“S’alright Connor…now let’s find out to what we owe the pleasure of the company of the Slayerettes.”

He waited a moment while Connor composed himself. The lad really was impressing him. Together they strolled back out into the lobby.

~~~~

“Right then Rogue…let’s cut to the chase shall we. Enough time has passed. What brought our little problems to the attention of the Slayerettes and how in the bleeding hell did you ‘pop’ in here?” Spike demanded, fixing his attention solely on Faith.

Faith began, “Well it started when a seer at the Coven got a message from Tara….”

(Lobby of Hyperion Hotel)

“Glinda? But she’s…” shock was overtaken by a sliver of fear, “Is the First back?” Spike stammered. Glinda. His undead heart mourned for the blonde witch…the only one who had seemed to really accept the possibility of a relationship between him and the Slayer. He growled, “Rogue, you better be quick with this ‘cause I’m feeling a bit peckish an’ right now I might be willing to overlook that I’m a soddin white hat now!”

“Chill out man…it’s cool. First’s not back. This Seer checked everything out, crossed all the T’s and dotted all the Is. ‘Cause you know everyone’s still on the alert for any sign of The First. So this Seer-witch happened to be in Cleveland, had a nasty bit of business, nothing we couldn’t handle of course…anyway she was in my backyard. No really in my backyard.”

He raised his eyebrow. As long as he had known Faith, she had only lived out of cheap motels or behind prison bars.

“Hey, I’m a homeowner, what of it? We have a benefit package. Geez, do you want to hear this or not,” she huffed.

“Go on, S’not as if I’m stoppin’ ya is it?” he snarled.

“So yeah Tara was allowed by the Powers That Be to serve as their messenger on this one. And her message was a doozy too. Tara said that ‘those of the light’ had been worried about Angelcakes ever since Cordy up and died, breaking their link. Yeah, even though they had Cordy give him some vision dream or something they still didn’t know what side he would choose. Already had that little issue about him and Acathla and then something about Junior and Jasmine. Who’s this Jasmine chick by the way? Nah, never mind. Hey get this Bleachy…man they’ve been watching you since before Drusilla got a hold of you. Yeah, you’ve always been special to them. Some kind of master plan. Ain’t that a kick in the ass,” Faith paused a second before continuing, wearing a big smile with a smudge of mustard yellow goo on her brow.

Feelings of surprise and anger began to overwhelm Spike. He was not some plaything for some blasted Powers. To be kicked around, manipulated into doing their biding. Sod it all, he was William the Bloody, Spike! And no one, be it demon, human or God would tell him how to run his life. But he had to reign in his emotions and listen to the information Faith had to share. The Powers had used Glinda…and Glinda at least he would listen to.

Faith was continuing her explanation, “Okay so Tara told this Seer chick that she needed to tell Dana’s Watcher to help Spike. That his time was now, whatever that meant. That Angel and Spike would be striking a blow against Evil Inc. but they would need the help of three slayers to last through the first battle. Tara okayed me, and Dana and Rona volunteered. Boy when I heard you were alive, I wanted to get my ass to L.A. to do a couple of shots. But Tara’s message also contained a warning. Those of us trusted with the message could not tell Giles, Buffy and Dawn. Telling any of them would put their lives in immediate danger. Tara told us to be here, we’re here. Seer-witch knew a translocation spell and how to focus it. Got a few of her coven to help her with the mojo and after a nice shower of glitter we ‘popped’ in here. But now that we’ve done what we were sent here for, let’s get the hell out of L.A. ‘Cause gotta say Cleveland is looking better and better, and that’s tragic.”

Spike’s attention focused on the warnings about Buffy and Dawn and about those who were trusted. “Rogue…so you say this ‘Seer’ chit who happens to be in Cleveland with you gets a ‘message’ from Glinda, given to her by those Wankers That Be sayin’ to bring yourself and two slayer pals with you to help me an’ the Grand Poof strike a blow against Evil Inc. And you wot…thought ‘slamming good time’ let’s ‘pop’ on in? And Rona…you volunteered? Come on…you (pointing to Rona) never liked me in good old Sunnyhell and Pinky here…well let’s just say my fingers still tingle from our last meeting.” His anger had reached its peak, his voice reverberated throughout the walls of the old hotel, as he continued hammering away at all the holes he saw in her explanation, “You talked about some secret message from Tara to Pink’s Watcher…but who is yours Faith and yours Roni? Just who in the bleeding hell was trusted with this ‘message’…that was the brain trust behind this operation?”

Dana had scooted forward during Faith’s explanation. She looked as if she wanted to add something to the conversation, but was too shy to do so in front of all the different people. Strange that she been so carefree out slaughtering the demons outside, but in here with her fellow Slayers and other normal people, scratch that…one regular person with artificially enhanced lawyer knowledge embedded in his brain, one offspring of two master vampires and one master vampire with a soul…she seemed almost tongue-tied. Pinky was shuffling her bare feet and twirling a finger around one of her ponytails.

“Err…umm…Spike,” Pinks stammered, “could you…umm…come over here?” She motioned her head to a corner near the stairwell away from the others.

“Alright, give me a second ducks,” he cast a warning glance at Faith and Rona to stay put before he went to see what troubled his hand-removing psycho-slayer. The fact that neither Faith nor Rona named Dana’s Watcher raised the hackles on his neck. They were still playing close to the vest, better to see what Psycho wanted to tell him and play it from there.

“Right pet…what is it you want to tell Ol’Spike?” he asked softly.

“When I was confused and hurt you and the Angel one stopped me. Mr. Andrew came with others like me. It was very hard. Brown walls. Yellow walls. No one understood me like you tried to do. I didn’t understand that I was seeing through the eyes of those that came before me. But then came Mr. Eye Patch and he made jokes. He painted my room at the Council lavender and made me a blue weapon’s chest. No more brown. No more yellow. I told him about you. He didn’t believe me. Thought I was seeing the other two …before you were good. Then one day, he came to me and said he believed me. He was going to be my Watcher and would I like to come live with him. He helped me become me again. I know I am still not whole. I am trying. Then he sent me to Faith…said he had to go check out something about a beautiful necklace. When he came back, he told me that he ‘might be able to help Spike’. That his Ahn would want him to. He cries over his Ahn at night when he doesn’t know I am awake. He will be waiting for us.” She poured out in a hushed whisper still very child-like in her delivery.

So Xander wanted to help him for Anya’s sake. And the Whelp had apparently made some discovery about the nifty little amulet that had allowed him to bring the bloody Hellmouth down. First Glinda and now Monkey boy. Perhaps the blonde witch was trying to tell Xander something in her little message to him hidden within the bigger one. Bugger all, his life was getting complicated.

“Shush now Pinks, not to worry. I’m not angry with you,” he whispered to her surprising himself that in fact it was the truth…he had forgiven her. “Now let me ask you, do you know why Faith and Rona haven’t told me who your Watcher is?”

“Nope. But he said to tell his old roommate he has a box of Wheetabix ready for him in Cleveland with some marshmallows,” she said looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

He had already been shocked more times tonight than he had in probably the last thirty years of his unlife, but to learn that the glorified construction worker and snack obtainer, regular dog’s body, had not only purchased him a box of Wheetabix but had extended an invite through his slayer was too much. The Whelp…the cantankerous sore on the arse of humanity…in truth the only one who probably hated Angel more than he did…had reached out a friendly hand.

Connor had walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Uncle are you alright?”

“Ta, Connor,” he said appreciating his nephew cared about his well-being. Noticing Pinks heartbeat has increased since Connor had approached them and a slight flush was appearing in her cheeks, he smiled inwardly at the crush the slayerette had on his nephew. “Connor have you met Dana, no…well Pinky here survived her own ‘hell dimension’ so to speak…brave chit she is…got the best of me…not many alive can say that. Well Junior, the two of you need to wash up…will you show her where she can get the blood off.”

“Sure, Uncle Will, come on Dana, I’ll show you the best rooms in the hotel.” He watched their progress up the stairs before turning back toward the rest of the room.

“Charlie my boy…ya think you can make it up the stairs or is there a place down here where you can get clean?” he asked wanting to clear the lobby of all but him and the two remaining slayers. While he was anxious to rid himself of the noxious scent of the blood and fluids of those he had slain, his need could wait. As a Master vampire, he had had to endure much worse than the inconvenience currently presented.

Gunn who was never one to be slow on the uptake, and for that Spike was pleased, answered, “Yeah Spike, I can make it to the second floor. My old room is not too far. Be glad too get into some fresh gear. Don’t be too long yourself…got to take care of your duster. That’s your trademark.”

Blue cocked her head to the side and said, “I will stay here. You wish to speak with these two ‘slayers’ alone. There is no wisdom in this. When once I walked with my Old Ones, there was a demon who was without form but very powerful. It craved violence. It was but an insignificant gnat. I have sensed that demon resting inside those three ‘slayers.’ While this one you call Rona has been helpful in healing Gunn, the one you call Rogue has been withholding information. If you would wish it, I would take pleasure in playing our game with her.”

Faith had the common sense to look scared. Spike tried not to smile. Their bloody game. When Illyria first arrived, it had been left to him to find out what her physical attributes were. In the blinding white room that still gave him unpleasant reminders of the Initiative, they faced off like two gladiators of old. Blue had just suggested that she square off against Faith to learn all.

“S’okay Bluebell. Stay if you like. Faithy and Roni are gonna answer my questions, if they want to leave here at all.”

Rona jumped at the cue first, “Spike…I want you to know. I did volunteer. Look, you’re right. In Sunnydale, I was still just a potential, scared that I was going to die like Eve and Chloe. I was supposed to be a vampire slayer and yet Buffy said you were off the hit list. And all she did was lecture, I was young…I didn’t understand. That night was real messed up. You came back and she was gone…then when you both were back, nothing was said. Buffy told us how you saved us all. That’s why I am here, Spike.”

“This one does not deceive you.” Blue started.

He interrupted, “I know Shiva, vampire here remember…heart rates…I’m a bloody polygraph. Apology accepted Tender…why don’t you go find Pinks and wash up.”

“Thanks Billy boy,” Rona smiled, “I am really happy that I could help here today.” With that she ran up the stairwell in search of her fellow slayer.

“Now Faithy…it’s just you, me and Blue here. Why don’t we start off real or nice an’ easy…who’s your Watcher?” he asked.

“Wood,” Faith let out the breath she had been holding, “he and I are still together. Really against the rules, but when have I ever been a follower of the rules. We hold down Cleveland. Got a second Council HQ there…sort of home-away-from-home for some of the girls.”

“So Wood knows that you are here and about the message, right?”

“Well yeah, Robin helped secretly arrange Rona’s help. She’s usually in the Chicago area. Her Watcher is someone you’ve never met. His name is Adam. He was a retired Watcher in another division who returned after the bombing to help rebuild. Yeah, apparently Watchers don’t only watch us slayers.”

“And who is Dana’s Watcher? And why do you call her ‘Precious’?”

“You’re not going to like it, Spike. Man, this is why I didn’t want to tell you…cause you know the guy and you two hate each other. Okay…it’s Xander. And why don’t you look, you know, surprised?”

“Pinky told me during the battle…was waiting for you to tell me, ducks. So Xander’s a Watcher…must be loving the research.”

“When Andrew brought Dana to the Council, Xander was in Africa. No one could get through to her. Xander had come back for a visit. Went right in to see her and it was like she was completely changed. Yeah, I always had him pegged for being the fool, but with her, man you would have been amazed.”

Buzzz….buzz….buzz…buzz….

“Hold on…that’s my phone,” Faith rifles through her bag and hurriedly answers, “Hey babe. Yeah I’m five by five. Girls are good. Angel not so much. Spike is still undead… he’s… oh… okay… hold on… (to Spike) he’s handing the phone over to Xander who wants to talk to you.”

Holding the tiny red cellphone, Spike could hear Wood’s breathing, some shuffling, and finally the Whelp grabbing the phone.

“Spike…are you there? Hey Bleached Wonder…come on …(to Wood?) no one is there…Spike I need to tell you something important…it’s about Buffy.”

“What about Buffy? Does she know about me?” he growled into the cell gripping it tightly.

“Spike get your undead ass to Cleveland. I don’t care how you do it, but do it. We can’t teleport you back here, so maybe a plane or something. If you still have that old piece of junk you called a car, get in it and drive like the bat out of hell you are and get here. She and Dawn have been kidnapped. It looks like Wolfram & Hart…inside job…maybe the Immortal. Slimy piece of work, but I was in no position to tell her that.”

“Whelp if I got on a plane why in the bloody hell would I stop in Cleveland if Buffy’s somewhere in Rome? I’ve got to help her. She’s my…” he stopped himself. Was she still? Until it was proven otherwise he was going with yes.

Xander kept prattling on, “I know…but you have to come here first. I have something that you need. I can’t talk about it over the phone. This is Buffy and Dawn…come on you know despite anything, when it comes to them… well, I put them first. Spike, I can help you help them. Just get here. Put Faith back on.”

“Shut your bleeding gob, you git. I’ll be there, but I’m bringing mates. Got to make them comfy like. Three more. I own a plane now….yes, I’ll load them all up. Oh, by the way mate, your slayer is full of beans…she did good.” For some reason he wanted the Whelp to know Pinks was fine, especially after what both the bit and Faith had said.

“Thanks Spike…see you in Cleveland…now let me talk to Faith.”

Handing the phone over to Faith, Spike pulled Blue to the side. He needed both of them cleaned and ready to go. He didn’t know what she required in that direction. She seemed to sense what he was trying to ask her.

“I require minimum maintenance. I will find an appropriate place to address my wounds and remove this filth.” And with that, Illyria headed up the stairs.

Nodding over to Faith, he head motioned up the stairs indicating she should freshen up after finishing the phone call.

Once up stairs, he hollered down the hallway, “Right you lot, in fifteen minutes we’re leaving and heading for the airport. Be ready. No stragglers.”

+++++++++++ (Rome, Italy)

It was dark. She was cold. She was hungry. And she was pissed.

Upon awakening Buffy realized she had regained some of her Slayer senses, but they were still too weak. Her friendly, neighborhood kidnappers had provided her with such luxury accommodations she thought sarcastically. No light, no heat, just a mattress with a thin blanket. She had started yelling for help when she realized that the metal walls seemed to muffle her voice. They had soundproofed the room.

A buzzer sounded. A voice, female with a heavy Italian accent, started giving her instructions. “Ah, Miss Buffy, you are awake I see. Good. Please be so kind as to move to the back wall. You will be moved to a much nicer room where you can join your sister.”

Dawn? They have Dawnie. She will find the Immortal and all who are doing this to them and slowly torture them. She wasn’t supposed to kill, but for this she might make an exception.

“Ah yes, we have your sister. She is quite comfortable, but she is so worried for you. I think it would be best if you were to join her. Now, step to the back wall.”

Buffy followed the commands, biting the inside of her cheek. She was feeling her strength returning, she might be able to make a break for it now…but without knowing where Dawnie was she couldn’t risk it. Better to play along. Hiding a smirk by looking at her bare feet, Buffy thought Spike would be impressed at her restraint.

Tears threatened to form, but she held them at bay. Not yet, have to tell Dawn. His Nibblet. She rubbed the marks at her neck. His marks. She knew it was silly, but just touching his mark made her feel safe. He would come for her and there would be hell to pay.

The door opened. Two men in Italian suits with guns pointed stepped in the room. A third man stepped inside holding handcuffs.

Wordlessly, she held out her hands in front of her. Seeing if they would be stupid enough to cuff her in front. If they did, it would be helpful information in the future. They did. The guy obviously hadn’t dealt in law enforcement or in the military.

The voice came to life again, “Do not attempt anything Miss Buffy. We have our guards on your sister as I speak. Just allow them to take you to her.”

Buffy nodded to the voice wherever it was coming from, and silently followed the goons.

As she walked down the corridor, she noticed the logo for Wolfram & Hart. Angel & Spike must have done something huge to have forced W&H to dare make such a move. Recalling her Slayer dream, she knew it was a huge battle, but she wasn’t sure what had caused it. Maybe Spike cheated someone in kitten poker, a half-smile forming on her face.

Eventually they came to a room. A steel door was unlocked and opened. Inside was a plush completely furnished room complete with kitchenette and bathroom. But most importantly, on the bed curled up into a ball was her sister.

Once she was uncuffed, she ran to her sister pulling her into a tight hug. Mindful of Dawn’s non-slayerness, Buffy eased up on the hug…caressing her sister’s hair. Together, she thought…we’ll get through this together.

“Come and find us, Spike…we love you,” she whispered closing her eyes and falling asleep next to Dawn.

(On the newly christened Love’s Bitch flying from Los Angeles to Cleveland)

“Charlie boy, are you sure about our pilot. The bloke looks a bit like a duffer.” Spike asked rolling his eyes to the front of the plane. It had been a harrowing experience just trying to get everyone exited from the Hyperion via the sewer access to where he had stored his precious Desoto, cram everyone into his baby and then burn asphalt until they reached the LAX private airstrip hanger. Then, the cloak and dagger of Charlie doing birdcalls to some previously unknown codger who probably hadn’t flown since Korea to sneak on the jet.

“Just chill Fang. Rufus knows his stuff. He used to work for our former employers, but only doing light transport. Luckily for him, he wasn’t one of those made to sign on the blood oath dotted line. Besides he owes me a few favors…bailed his granddaughter out of a sticky custody mess with a Brachen demon a while back.” Gunn assured him.

The plane had taxied down the runway without a hitch. However, they had to file a false flight plan to throw off any unwanted welcoming committees. Apparently Rufus had come up with a few ideas of his own. Once they had cleared the tower and had been in flight for an hour, he made an emergency call to a nearby airport requesting a change of flight plan, while at the same time switching some beacon emitting their jet’s code to air traffic control. To anyone who was watching, it would appear that the jet had crashed somewhere over Wyoming.

Spike had turned his attention to his passengers, recalling that the last time he had been on this plane it had been with the Great Poof on their way back from Rome and the disastrous ‘head’ affair. Rome…and Buffy, with her bouncing hair in that nightclub dancing, like the first time he had ever seen her. Knowing that she had been kidnapped and he was trapped half way around the world made him feel as useless as he had when he was first chipped by the Initiative. He needed to get his mind off Buffy, and what they might be doing to her, in order for him to not completely tear up his smashing new jet.

Everyone had freshened up and changed clothes at the hotel. Well Blue was in her regular armor attire, he wasn’t sure what she had done to address her wounds. Gunn was wearing his street gear, a jeans jacket with dark blue jeans and a red tee. Faith was in her typical red leather pants, black cami-top, black leather jacket with heavy makeup and black boots. Rona was adorned in a style familiar to him from Sunnydale – jean overalls, purple tank, docs and a green bandana wrapped loosely around her dreads. Pinky’s style was, even in his opinion, adorable – wearing cropped faded jeans, pink high-top sneakers, a white t-shirt and pink sleeves emblazoned with the logo ‘I’m a brat!’ she had her hair again in two pigtails but instead of leaving them to hang had taken two long pink ribbons and wrapped them around to have her hair similar to the ‘Witch Hunter Robin’ anime chit. His nephew, the Destroyer, had changed out of his preppie wear to a nice respectable street punk look – black jeans, dull green t-shirt and brownish-green jean jacket. Of course, Spike was in his usual attire, spiffed up slightly for the occasion with a touch of color, under his black duster he was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and red button-up shirt. Yeah the red shirt…he had not worn that in a very long time.

“So Slayerettes, give your old chum the news on the rest of the gang from our days in Sunnyhell,” he queried, suppressing the small growl that had threatened to escape.

Rona decided she would take on Spike’s question, especially since there was one Slayerette in particular she wanted to pass along the word about. “Well Spike, I gotta give you the 411 about the pushy bitch from hell, Kennedy. Faith is no longer the textbook definition of a rogue slayer. Kennedy has decided she wants the Bad Ass Backstabbing Murdering Bitch Slayer crown all for herself. She went as she describes it “a little overboard” and slaughtered five innocent humans two of which were children. Children…Billy boy…little boy and a little girl not more than six years old. All because they happened to get in her way. Well the bitch is in a secured prison in South America where even her rich daddy’s money can’t bail her ass out. And unlike Faithy, we have Kennedy locked away behind enhanced steel bars…she’ll never get out…ever.”

All in the small cabin of the jet felt her vehemence over the betrayal of the calling. Gunn moved over next to her offering his shoulder to lean on if she wanted it. Spike smiled inside looking at the interesting development that was taking place between the two street-wise and world-weary soldiers of their merry little gang.

Faith spoke up at this awkward moment, “Umm well I still say I am the original Rogue Slayer, and I broke the mold after the Powers made me. So K will have to buy her own damn crown.”

Good on Rogue to try to lighten the mood Spike asked, “What about Red?”

“Red? Oh the Goddess is sad that her honey went all dark slayer, but really who better to understand how that could happen, right. But Wills, no, she read her aura or something and just left. Said she couldn’t help her. Went back to the main Coven in Westbury. She’s all single girl now…being all Mary Tyler Moore ‘she’s gonna make it after all’ or whatnot,” answered Faith.

She continued, “Giles has been heading up the Council HQ in London trying to reestablish old contacts, working on recruitment, all that administrative stuff that just screams to those who wear tweed. Since Seer chick vision-o-rama, our little branch has not been sending the ‘A’ book reports to G-man. So not sure what G knows right now. Robin will know when we get home.”

“Let me ask you this…where was Andrew assigned after dropping Pinky off with you?” he knew he had seen the little tosser in Rome, but they didn’t know that. Besides if his Slayer and Nibblet were kidnapped where was Andrew during all this?

“Well at first, he was in Rome with Buffy and Dawnie. But we haven’t heard from him in over two months now.” Rona replied.

“Me and Peaches saw the budding filmmaker in Rome on business, had stopped by to see the Slayer who was out with her latest, and then the little wanker takes off with two Italian belladonnas, him acting all James bloody Bond.” Spike grumbled.

Faith and Rona exchanged confused looks. Faith asked, “Have you been hitting the Jack again, Bleachy? Cause man, Andy is gay – you know light in the loafers. Last we heard he was dating Dorian, some art student at the same school as Dawnie.”

“Wait a bleeding minute…you mean to tell me that our Andy is the Poofter I always thought he was. Okay…but if that’s true then who the bloody hell was that in Buffy’s apartment that chatted all nice like with Peaches and me? ‘Cause mates, the arse that was there was straight as a board. And you haven’t heard from Andy in over two months?” Spike mulled this over in his mind. If Andrew in Rome was not the real Andrew, then who was the bastard? And how long had he been planted in his Buffy’s apartment, watching her and manipulating her?

He raged on, “The sodding bastards! We got to get this sorted! What did you chits know about Buffy and this Immortal wanker?”

“Oh Guido,” Rogue piped up, “Yeah, man well, never met him. B though just keeps on raving about the guy. Umm sorry Blondie. He answered the phone once when I rang her up, had this nasally sounding voice, rude as hell when I didn’t fawn all over the phone, and after me basically threatening to come to Rome to kick his ass, he put B on the phone. She just acted like nothing had happened straight out of Stepford man. And Dawnie is just as bad. Lil Sis acts like she did when she was twelve crushing on the Xan-man.”

“Yeah I got that too Faith, when I had to call about some thing Adam asked me to report about. D was all the Immortal this and the Immortal that. Made me want to just throw up. So what…Spike, you think something is up with that? Does Xander think the Immortal helped bag Buffy and Dawn?” Rona added.

He feels gutted. It was all there right under his bloody nose! But he had been too busy pissing around with General Grumpypants that he missed all the blatant clues.

Connor interjected sensing his uncle’s anger, “Ladies, it appears we are almost to Cleveland. I suggest that we hold off on making with the plans until we find out what more has been learned. We have about probably another forty-five minutes left; so I suggest if you can get a quick nap, reserve your energy. We don’t know what lies ahead.”

The Slayerettes nod in agreement. Faith moved back to her seat more towards the front of the cabin. Dana stood to move with her, but before she left, she stopped giving Spike’s hand a tight squeeze for support. Spike looked up at Pinky with thanks. Gunn and Rona took the seats in the back of the cabin where Gunn could stretch out his legs helping his injuries heal. Blue stayed near the front of the cabin with Faith and Dana to observe their nature.

Connor stayed in the seat across the aisle from his uncle.

With a bit of humor, Spike realized on his last plane ride, he and Angel had been in the same seats.

“Ta Junior,”

“None needed, Uncle Will.

“Boy, no one calls me Will…not even her and certainly not some brilliant sprog like yourself. Call me that again, you will know why they called me Bloody.”

“Sure…as long as you stop calling me Junior. My name’s Connor not Liam so I am not his junior.”

“Right then. Con….” Spike’s left hand grabbed his neck; his right fisted his armrest, “Con…”

“Uncle…what’s wrong?” Connor turned in his seat to better help his uncle who appeared to be weirdly enough trying to catch his breath. “Uncle…”

“It’s Buffy…I felt her…just barely. I haven’t been able to do that since I’ve been back.” A slow smile crept along his face, “Ah, Vicious, she’s right brassed off. My girl’s gonna make ‘em wish they’d never been born.”

******

(Landing strip at Cleveland’s Burke Lakefront Airport)

Love’s Bitch had touched down on the runway at the Burke Lakefront Airport that caters to corporate and private aircraft, relieving air traffic from the hectic Cleveland International Airport. Spike wondered how hectic could Cleveland International be; and who the bloody hell would want to come to Cleveland that didn’t have to be here? Oh right, the bleeding Rock and Roll Hall of Fame was here.

As the plane taxied to its hanger, he noticed a limousine awaiting their arrival. Had it not been for the Whelp and the Principal standing outside of the limo, he might have eaten the pilot.

Spike watched as Rogue ran down the jet’s steps and pounced into the waiting arms of Wood. Made him want to heave. Connor made his way down next, followed by Charlie. They stood off to the side. Neither of them had met Captain Ahab or the Slayer Spawn, so they just observed.

Dana hopped down the steps and ran to her Mr. Xander who patted her on the shoulder. Spike paid special attention to how the Whelp acted around the psycho slayer. Perhaps the chit reminded him a bit of Demon Girl.

Rona followed Pinky off the jet. He did not see any watcher type greeting her. Maybe this Adam bloke had business elsewhere.

Blue marched down the stairs and took position beside Gunn and Connor.

He turned to Rufus, the pilot, and said, “My little band of misfits appreciated the lift, mate. Ta. Have her at the ready. We may be needing her sooner rather than later.”

With that he disembarked from the jet.

As his feet hit the pavement, the door to the limo opened. Out stepped a man wearing a long camel colored duster, brown pants, with short brown hair. As the man turned his face, Spike saw the dark brown eyes and the Romanesque nose.

Without thought, Spike shifted into game face, pulled out his katana, and surged forward.

Nothing else existed for him at that moment except that sodding bastard standing before him.

Every other person stood watching Spike’s attack in shock. No one understood, nor could they comprehend what they were seeing.

Spike leapt forward with his sword only to be met by his foe’s Ivanhoe sword with bronze hilt in defense stance.

“You’re dead, you miserable bastard! I watched you die in 1927!” Spike exclaimed.

“As you are as well, you prat! Will you lay off with the violence for a bit, William?”

“Spike! Hey bleached wonder what do you think you are doing attacking Adam like that?” asked the Whelp

He shifted his gaze to the Whelp and snarled, “S’not human, Ahab. Saw him die from a gun shot wound to the heart over 77 years ago.”

“What?” was heard collectively.

“William or as you like to be known, Spike, allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Adam Pierson, Rona’s Watcher. Unfortunately, you have just blown the most carefully crafted cover I’ve had for decades. Ta, you sodding prick. I would have rather discussed this privately with you, but since you have chosen to hold me at a standstill, swords drawn, I will admit that I am an immortal – one of a few who are left.”

Spike backed away from Adam, stashing his katana in his duster, observing Adam doing the same. So he shifted back to his human guise, “You still owe me money…and I’ll be collecting the soddin’ interest.”

Spike heard Connor ask, “So is this guy the same kind of ‘immortal’ as the Immortal?”

*********

A/N: Adam Pierson appears at the author's wild perogative and greatest desire crossing over from Highlander:The Series. Disclaimer: I do not own Adam, David-Panzer Productions does. More on Adam in the upcoming soon to be written chapters. (and yes, I know some of you know who he really is!!)

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