Title: Hurricane, Prologue: Calm Before the Storm

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. This chapter is Dawn, Buffy, and Spike POV.

Calm Before the Storm

Of great events stride on before the events,
And in today already walks tomorrow.
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from The Death of Wallenstein. Act V, Scene 1

“What are you doing up so uh..ear..hahmm..ly?”

My sister’s yawning voice rose over the quiet rumble of the television set. Pulling my long hair back into a ponytail, I twisted the hair band around and around. Then, I slumped back against the couch. “It’s my day to present a story in history class on something positive going on in the community. I forgot about it ‘til this morning when my alarm went off.”

Another voice came from over my sister’s shoulder. “A positive story, bit? What have you found so far?”

I glanced at my sister’s boyfriend who was snaking his bare arms loosely around my sister’s waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Well, not much.” I pushed the volume button on the remote. The anchor woman was in the middle of a bulletin about the increase in gang activity in the schools and how the school board was implementing new safety precautions. “All I’ve seen so far is a report on a robbery downtown and this one.” I gestured at the television screen.

“Hey! What’s with the stair blockage?”

My sister’s boyfriend smirked with false maliciousness. The effectiveness of his attempt at snideness was greatly diminished by his tousled bleached curls.

“Morning, Willow,” my sister chimed. She tried to move over so Willow could slip past, but her boyfriend stayed rooted to the spot. “Spike! C’mon, Willow wants by.”

Spike winked at me in silent collusion when my sister turned to glare at him playfully. He lightly kissed her nose. “Nope.”

“There’s a fee, Willow,” I stated. “Twenty-five dollars.”

“But, I don’t have twenty-five dollars.”

“Oh, well. Guess you’re stuck.” I turned back to the news, ignoring the scuffle on the stairs.

“Just the way I like my Buffy...all squirmy and full of energy,” Spike teased.

My sister was struggling in Spike’s arms, which was highly amusing to me because Buffy could have easily escaped from him, being the vampire slayer and all. Buffy had been “the Chosen One,” fighting vampires and other demons since about age fifteen. The other irony was that Spike was her vampire boyfriend. He and Willow had been living with Buffy and I for a while now. Willow was a slender redhead who had been helping Buffy since our family moved to Sunnydale. Queen of hacker action and an ex-Wicca, Willow was a powerful ally and almost like my second older sister. Funny how fighting the forces of darkness and fearing for one’s safety created nearly unbreakable bonds among friends.

Losing patience, Willow put all of her strength into attempting to push Spike out of the way. Giving up, she called around his form, “What about breakfast? I can’t make breakfast if I can’t get by!”

Spike immediately stepped to the side, causing Buffy to stumble further into his arms. “Okay. Now less squirmy Buffy is nice, too. And I get breakfast on top of that!”

Seeing that Spike was occupied with the woman in his arms, Willow scooted down the remaining stairs and jauntily walked to the kitchen. “Ha! Got by. And who said I was making breakfast?”

I jumped up and followed Willow. “But, but, eggs and bacon and coffee.”

Running her fingers lightly through her cropped red hair, her eyes sparkled at me. “Don’t sound so pitiful, Dawnie. You can always eat cereal.”

Sticking my bottom lip out at her, I protested, “Cereal, uck! All we have is Grape Nuts that get all soggy in two seconds and tasteless sticky oatmeal. It’s cause Buffy forgot to pick up *my* cereal at the store this weekend.”

“What’d I do?” Buffy entered the kitchen and stood behind me.

I whirled and planted my hands on my hips. “Forgot my Lucky Charms again.”

Spike strode into the room. I noticed that he was only wearing long pants. “Hey, Dawn. Got you a story!” He thrust a paper in my face, which I ignored.

Buffy disregarded Spike as well. “Well, if you would leave me a list of what you needed like I asked you to, you would have your Lucky Charms.”

I dimly heard Willow rattling around in the cabinets as Spike slammed the paper on the kitchen island. “Well, it’s there if you want it. I’m off to take a shower. Pop me some blood in the microwave when you get a chance, Red.”

“You’re supposed to remember! That’s all I’ve been eating for breakfast the last six months.” I glanced at Willow who had cleared her throat at my words and was raising an eyebrow at me. “Well, when Willow hasn’t cooked.”

“Sure, Spike.” Willow replied to the vampire who was rapidly getting frustrated. “But only after I finish here. The smell of blood ruins my appetite if I don’t cook everything else first.” She cracked an egg, and the liquid spilled from the shell onto the frying pan with a hiss.

“Right.” Spike left the room.

The sudden sound of eggs sizzling filled the room at our silence and made me giggle.

Buffy rolled her eyes at me. She sounded amused as she exited, “I better go check on him. He seemed a little huffy. Probably needs some attention.”

“Uh, huh,” I said knowingly. If my mom had said that about a guy, I would have been thoroughly grossed out at the thought of what they were probably doing, but since Buffy was my sister, I thought what she implied was sweet. I enjoyed seeing her blissful. She got enough heaviness from having to ensure the world didn’t literally go to hell all the time.

When Buffy was gone, I snagged Spike’s rumpled paper laying on the counter. Oh, I knew about this! I’d forgotten they’d been announcing the event at school for the last week. Reading about the local blood drive to benefit hospitals and check for bone marrow matches, I opened the refrigerator and removed the orange juice and picanté sauce for my eggs. “So, Willow, what do you have planned today?”

Willow spooned the scrambled eggs onto three plates already stacked with jelly-covered toast. “Not much. Classes on campus and research.”

“Watcha researching?” I grabbed a plate and sat down at the island.

“Something for Angel. There’s some kinda demon operation going on in L.A. that he’s having trouble locating, and he called for some extra hacker help. He’s already got his team on it, but apparently, the operation’s eluded them so far.” She began heating some blood for Spike’s breakfast.

“Oh.”

Willow joined me, pulling an orange juice closer to her plate and pouring picanté sauce on her eggs at the same time. “What are you doing at school today? Any big plans?”

“Nope. Just tests and more tests as usual. And the current events thing.”

“Sounds like fun!”

I stared at her while she grinned at me. “I’m not sure if you’re just really enthusiastic or dangerously ill.”

She took a bite of toast, not bothering to hide her continuing smile. “Just call me Miss Knowledge Seeker.”

* * *

As stealthily as a cat stalking her prey, I crept into the bathroom, masking the sounds of my movements with the rush of the water from the shower head. With great difficulty, I tried not to giggle when Spike started humming a nonsensical but lighthearted tune to himself. I secretly enjoyed hearing him whistle or hum because that meant he was a happy vampire...that meant the love of my life was content.

Shedding my nightgown but not my lacy undergarments, I perched softly on the edge of the closed toilet lid. As I closed my eyelids to absorb the sound of his music more fully, a shiver of desire ran through my body from my scalp to the tips of my brightly painted toenails. The corners of my mouth lifted at the thought of his reaction at seeing me when he finished his shower. Imagining his fingers running through the long strands of my hair and down my body, envisioning the feel of his cool lips pressing and dancing over my warm ones, my heart began to beat recklessly, and the length of my body began to tingle with sparks of ebullience.

I shrieked as without warning my fantasy became reality, and I was pulled clothing and all in a fluid motion into the humid rainforest of the shower. A body heated by the water pressed against my smaller one, and his mouth hovered over mine, his unnecessary breath laving over my lips. My eyes shot open so that intense green met passionate swirls of icy blue. I loved him so much.

“Hello, my slayer. Come to join me in the shower?” His arms were tight over my hips as he held me close.

“Mmmm...what do you think?”

“I think I was almost done,” he murmured.

“Oh, really?”

I pushed closer and draped my arms around his neck. Whimpering slightly as his fingers whispered over the hollow of my lower back and the curve of my thighs, I scattered butterfly kisses and tiny nips over his cheeks, chin, and ears. Pleased when his low moans brushed my eardrums and the poignancy of his desire matched my own, I drew back so that cool air rushed between us.

“Better get ready. I have to get to work soon.”

With unnatural attention directed at my collar bone, he traced the bone with two fingers, playing with my bra strap. Then, he met my gaze, growling at me. “Later tonight?”

“Tonight,” I confirmed, granting him fair warning. “You better be ready.”

His smile was broad and brilliant as he caressed my cheek. “I love you,” he purred in my ear. Then, he dove in for one last deep kiss, leaving me shivering half from the lack of leftover hot water and half from an aching void only he could fill.

“Love you, too,” I said in a soft voice, knowing that his acute ears picked up the sound.

* * *

Whistling to myself, I strode down the stairs, searching for my target. “Dawn? Bit? I’m taking you to school! Where are you?” We went through this routine every morning.

Dawn stood in the living room with her arms crossed. Her backpack was slung over her tiny shoulder, her sack lunch dangling down from one of her hands. “Been ready. Did you get your breakfast? Willow heated it up in the microwave.” As I hurried to retrieve my mug of blood, Dawn called, “Hey, thanks for the story! It’s perfect. I think our health class might take a field trip during phys ed today to donate blood. One of our classmates has leukemia, and they’re trying to find him a bone marrow match. Then, I can give a first hand account of the blood drive in history class.”

“Glad I’m not going to the blood drive.” I downed the blood in two gulps.

“Why?” she asked as we entered the garage and climbed into my car.

“Might make me too hungry. All that fresh blood filling the air, making me all intoxicated. Might do something I wouldn’t mean to do.”

“Oh. Guess that makes sort of sense.” She placed her backpack around her feet, smoothed her hair with both hands, and buckled her seatbelt. “I don’t see how you drive with the windows all blackened like this.” She nodded at the windows of the car which were painted solid black with the exception of the small slit in front of my face. “I don’t see how you don’t get pulled over with them all dark. What would you do if you did?”

“Never been stopped. Will worry about what to do when it happens.” I started the engine with a flick of my wrist. Dawn pushed the garage door opener, and the grinding noise of the door echoed throughout the room.

“Could you even roll down the window to talk to the police person?”

“Guess it would depend on whether it was cloudy or not.” With the car in reverse, I backed out of the garage. No need to use the rearview mirror, so I just faced forward.

“And what about a driver’s license? And insurance?”

Dawn was watching me with big eyes. I put the car in park. “Pet, you’ve never asked these questions before. Why now?”

She bowed her head, studying her hands. “Guess I’m just ready to take driver’s ed.”

Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced incredulously at her. “Are you even old enough to get a license?”

She nodded shyly. “Yep. I *have* been for like two years now. And I’d really like to learn to drive before I’m forty...even if Buffy doesn’t want to learn.”

“You’re looking at the right person to teach you...give you a little one up before the summer class,” I informed her proudly. I would do anything to please Dawn.

Her whole face was alight with excitement. “Really? When can we start?”

I laughed at her enthusiasm. Putting the car in gear, I drove onto the empty morning street. “Tonight. We’ll borrow Willow’s car, so you’ll have clear windows. We’ll take it for a drive in the neighborhood.”

“Don’t you have work tonight?”

“Not tonight. I’m off.” I was an “unofficial” security officer around the university campus at night. The new university president had decided that he had enough of the strange murders and disappearances of students around campus. Because Sunnydale’s citizens often balked at the idea of supernatural and demonic occurrences, he had hired staff as an extra and anonymous branch of the main campus security department to keep the students safe at night. The university president was no fool and did not keep his head buried in the sand about reality. Gotta admit that I admired the man for his spunk. Rather ironic that I used to hunt for meals on the same campus grounds and eat the very students I was now protecting.

“What will Buffy say if you take me driving?”

“Don’t worry about Buffy. I’ll take care of her.”

Dawn bounced in her seat. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

“Always nice to hear again.”

The end of the prologue

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 1: Lightning Strikes

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Buffy’s POV.

Lightning Strikes

“It is vain to look for a defense against lightning.”
-Publius Syrus, Maxim 835 (42 B.C.)

Whoever said that teaching the basics of tumbling to a class of three- and four-year-old children would be my ideal job? With my patience? I gave myself some credit for improving at keeping my cool.

“Mrs. Buffy!” A tiny girl with naturally curly hair wrapped into thick twin braids was glaring and pointing at the only boy in the class.

Ignoring the cry for the moment, I turned back to the slender dark-haired girl who was squatting on the mat and watching me expectantly. “Good job on the cartwheel, Amalia. Next time, I’ll help you keep your legs straight.” With her front teeth missing, her gap-toothed smile melted my heart.

Turning back to the conflict, I stated as firmly as I could, “Ian, what did I tell you about pulling Megan’s hair?”

Ian jutted his chin out. “She started it.”

A small tug on my black dance skirt interrupted me. “Can I go now?”

My hand found another girl’s soft head near my thigh. “Not yet, sweetie. Just a sec.” I paused. “How did she start it, Ian?”

“He bit me, too!” and “Nuh uh!” were uttered simultaneously.

“Megan, I asked Ian.”

“She pushed me first,” Ian maintained. “So, there!”

“Did not!”

“Miss Buffy! Me and Sarah have to pee!” Another small voice whined over the shuffles of the other students.

Smoothing the hair sticking out of my bun, I sighed. Sometimes working with children was harder than slaying vampires. At least, the vamps disappeared after the battle was over. The children stuck around for a whole hour. And, vamps usually attacked me one at a time. Not so with the kids. In either case, children or vamps, I had to take charge when things appeared they might get out of control.

“Okay. Michelle and Sarah can go to the bathroom together. And, Ian and Megan will sit in the corner until their moms come to pick them up.” The two vagrants moaned and shuffled to the timeout corner. My watch read three twenty-five in the afternoon. Five more minutes! Where had the time gone? “Okay! Time for cool down! Let’s line up.”

“But, you said I could go next!” The girl hovering around me protested.

“One more cartwheel.” I followed Anita’s bouncy skip to the tumbling mat, spotting her carefully as she fell into a clumsy cartwheel and almost veered onto the hardwood floor. She jumped up expectantly. “Good, Anita! That was your best one!” She beamed.

Facing the rest of the squirming class, I announced, “Cool down!”

As the children formed semi-straight lines in front of the wall of mirrors, I saw Xander, one of my closest friends, enter the dance studio wearing a broad smile.

“Hey, Katerina Gordeeva! How goes the dancing?”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Xander, Katerina is an ice skater, and I teach tumbling, not dancing.”

“Oh. Yea. Well, it’s all a similar genre,” he concluded, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed.

The corner my mouth ascended into a full-fledged smile. Facing the class, I called, “Class, can you say ‘Hi’ to Xander?”

The class stared and cried in unison, “Hi, Xander!”

He waved at them. “Hey, class!”

“Tina, would you hit play on the tape deck?” I asked.

“K!” Tina teetered to the stereo resting on the floor and clumsily pushed play on the stereo so that soft, slow music filled the room.

“Ian and Megan, you can join us for the cool down.”

Going to the front of the class, I led my small students in a series of stretching exercises, so they wouldn’t tear their developing muscles later. Xander watched the children clumsily attempt to imitate my movements with a bemused expression. Some of the girls were lost in their own little world and engaged in their own form of stretching. Others wouldn’t remove their eyes from me as they attempted to emulate me exactly.

As soon as the song ended, the entire class inhaled deep breaths and raised their arms slowly. Exhaling, they lowered their arms. I was proud of that part of the weekly routine. All my munchkins had the deep breathing down pat. Giles, my watcher and trainer who now resided in England, would have been proud. “Okay, now give yourself a hug!” The class mimicked me as I crossed my arms and hugged my rib cage. “And have a great day!”

Susan, the dance studio secretary, appeared in the doorway to watch over the children as they scampered out the door all at once to catch their rides. Maggie, the ballet dance instructor, squeezed past the children and began to warm up on the bar to prepare for her afternoon class of older students getting out of school. Some of my pupils turned to extend a last minute wave. I waved back and called, “Bye!”

Xander approached as I gathered up my sweat towel, bottled water, and music tapes. “So, we’re researching all evening?” I asked him, taking a swallow of liquid from my bottle.

“Uh huh. Hours of our favorite gig complete with musty old texts, computers, high calorie snack-type foods, and caffeine...*lots* of caffeine.” He grinned.

“Great. Remind me to hire a new agent.”

* * *

As soon as the Magic Box bell jingled, I heard Anya call, “Buffy, tell *your* boyfriend not to put those herbs so high on the shelves. Mostly women buy those herbs, and *I* and *most* other women *cannot* reach that high even on tippy toes.”

“I don’t tell Spike what to do....most of the time. And hello to you, too, Anya,” I replied with amusement in my tone. Anya co-owned the Magic Box with Giles and was in charge of the store in Giles’s absence. Needless to say, she took her job very seriously, sometimes almost obsessively so. As a vengeance demon who granted wishes for those who had been wronged, Anya was also fanatic about exacting her own form of justice.

“Bloody hell, demon girl, I was just stocking the shelves as I was told! You didn’t say where to put the stuff,” Spike grumbled, slouching and moving some of the brim-filled jars of herbs to a lower level on the wall display. “And just what goes on the top shelf?”

Anya’s response was immediate as she squatted behind the cash register to push items around in the glass case which housed jewelry, more expensive crystals, and charms that more advanced witches used in their spells. “Things that get broken easily, that are expensive, and/or that are pretty to look at from far away. The pretty things attract the customers through the shop window.”

Spike surveyed the higher shelves speculatively. “Hmm. That so? What will you do if I keep some of the herbs up there?”

Anya rose quickly and crossed her arms. “What do you think?”

Xander bent over to kiss the back of Anya’s neck lightly and then, spoke up eagerly, “Oooo, can I wish that he be dust? Can I?”

“But, Harris, who would you be able to commiserate with about our little women?” Spike reminded Xander.

Xander frowned as if deep in thought. “You got a point.”

“Hey!” I complained, hugging him tightly from behind. “Who’re you calling little? And since when do you own me?”

“Yea,” Anya echoed in the background, punching Xander in the arm. I didn’t hear his reply because I was listening to Spike.

“You’ve always been little. And I’ve always owned you even when you didn’t know it.” Spike pulled me to his left side and held me against his hip. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lightly brushed my lips across his cheek, inhaling the faint woodsy scent that was uniquely Spike.

“You better watch yourself, Summers. You’re playing with fire here,” he warned, his voice growing husky when he used my surname.

“Little sister has entered the room!” Dawn announced when she came in the Magic Box front door and saw Spike and I together. “So, it’s time to stop all inappropriate behavior.” She plopped down at the research table in the back of the shop, letting her backpack slip from her shoulder to the floor.

“Hey, Dawn! How was your day at school? You can help Spike with the shelves,” Anya spoke in one breath. Dawn groaned before joining Spike and I by the display where I was now standing on my feet.

“How were your kids?” Dawn asked, tracing her finger along the herb labels.

“Cute and devilish as usual.”

Willow entered the shop a minute or two after Dawn. “Hey, all,” Willow said, slightly muffled by the stack of books and laptop computer in her arms.

Greetings were exchanged all around. Xander and Spike lifted Willow’s burden, and she leaned against the glass case. Panting, she wiped the back of her hand against the sheen of sweat on her forehead and thanked them. As the men made their way to the research table, the women trailed behind.

A lull of dread about the research and what we might find settled heavily over me. I didn’t enjoy uncovering the facts. Sometimes, I just liked to go into battle with a nameless demon to fight, maim, and kill. That made things much simpler, much more black and white. Grey and fuzzy were not my cup of tea. And the more I knew about a demon, the more likely I would find some human trait that might make my slaying job more difficult. Take Spike, for example. Even after the many years I’d known him as a vampire with and without a soul, he was still an enigma to me. He was complicated and unpredictable and annoying and sweet bundled into one package...demon and human at the same time. Definitely not killable. He laced his cool fingers with mine as I sat down next to him, making me feel reassured and safe and letting me know that we could handle whatever obstacle was laid in our path. His eyes lit up with inner intensity when I smiled at him. *Definitely* delectable.

Once everyone was settled around the table, Willow positioned her laptop open before her and rose to her feet. “Okay. Here’s the deal. Angel called me last night in need of some help.”

“He needs some help all right,” Spike made the expected comment.

Xander jabbed his index finger toward Spike without looking at him. “Right there with you.”

I knew better than to respond to their dislike of Angel, my ex-boyfriend with whom they had personal confrontations. If I said anything, the conversation would veer off topic. Besides, they made comments about Angel out of habit more than anything else now.

Willow stood her ground, breezing over their words. “He and his gang in L.A. are investigating...”

“A rash of unexplained murders committed by demons and the exchange of large sums of money?” Dawn interjected. Willow’s expression changed to one of annoyance. Dawn grimaced and explained, “Anya told me.”

“Hey, the money part was interesting,” Anya asserted, shrugging her shoulders.

“Why is that part interesting?” I wondered aloud.

“Because demons don’t usually deal in money, pet.” Spike squeezed my hand.

“I haven’t forgotten the kittens, Spike.” Everyone but Anya stared at me with confusion. I dismissed their questions with a tiny wave of my left hand. “Don’t ask.”

“Although those wacky demons probably should learn to handle money more efficiently if they’re going to get with the modern times. Maybe they could set up a savings account at the bank and play the stock market,” Xander added. Anya beamed at him.

Willow cleared her throat, sounding oddly like Giles. I tried to hold back my laugh at the thought of Willow wearing tweed and polishing a pair of glasses. “Anyway. Angel’s not sure how organized these demons are and how far reaching their influence is. His group believes that a branch may be settling into Sunnydale.”

“Which is why she sent Spike and I to Willy’s bar this afternoon,” Anya stated with pride.

“Oooo. Hanging with the demon riffraff,” Dawn commented on Willy’s clientele. “How much did you have to pay him this time for information on the demon underworld?”

“Or, did you just beat it out of the slimy little excuse for a human being?” Xander asked, winking a brown eye at Anya.

“Vampires,” Spike said evenly. “They’re a group of vampires. But, they’ve done little in Sunnydale, yet. Rumor is that a couple of bigwigs are here now, studying the possibilities of setting up shop.”

“Bigwigs?” Willow queried.

Anya nodded. “Yea, they’re pretty organized. Besides the money, their motive is uncertain though.”

“So who are they murdering in L.A.?” I asked Willow.

“Angel said some bodies actually haven’t been found but that a handful of very wealthy individuals have mysteriously disappeared and strange new replacements have been made in their businesses. And some unlikely financial moves have been made as a result. Also, the bodies that have been found have been some of the less wealthy rivals of the missing individuals. And honestly, none of the bodies that have been found seem to indicate death at the hands of vampires.”

“What have they died from?” Dawn ran her fingers through her long, brown hair, studying the tips for possible split ends as she asked her question.

“Bullets, knife stabbings, hanging,” Willow said, placing the tips of her fingers on the table.

“Oh. Like regular human ways of killing people,” Dawn realized.

“Pretty much. But they’ve been set up to look like suicides.”

“Willy gave us an address.” Anya held out a slip of paper.

I took the note. “What for?”

“The place where the big boys are staying,” Xander guessed, trying to peer at what was written on the paper.

“Got it in one,” Spike validated.

Staring at the address, I blinked to make sure I was seeing the words correctly. “This is in the very rich, not-at-all impoverished part of town.”

“They paid for the home in full. Must mean they have a lot of money and that they’re planning to stay for a while,” Willow noted, “I better inform Angel.” She headed toward the phone near the cash register.

“I’d like to talk with him, too.”

Spike’s muscles stiffened when I spoke of contacting Angel while he was in the room. I rubbed his forearm in reassurance, but he jerked away. I didn’t have time for this jealousy crap...not when the situation was so serious. If I was going to figure out how to handle the current situation, I really needed to know more...straight from Angel and not secondhand through Willow. I ignored the anger that flickered across Spike’s face when I left his side and stood next to Willow as she dialed the phone number.

Spike sprang up. “C’mon, Dawn. Let’s go. Gotta practice the driving. Willow, we’re taking your car like we talked about earlier. Get a ride home with Harris.”

Dawn bounced up and down with excitement. She virtually skipped to the door. “Cool.”

Willow nodded at him with the phone to her ear.

“*Driving?* ” Flickers of rage and shock stabbed through my abdomen.

“Woulda told you, pet, but since you’re so busy at the moment and since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be doing anything productive for a while....” He gestured at the telephone. “Let me know what you find o....” The door banging shut behind him cut off the end of his words.

Sympathy written in her eyes, Willow patted my arm. I shook my head at her. I loved Spike, but sometimes he could be so *impossible*.

* * *

“Whoa.” I stood frozen in place at the sight of the huge mansion that rose up before Xander, Anya, and me. We finally found the neighborhood a few hours after consulting with Angel and exchanging information. I hadn’t heard from Spike and Dawn, but I wasn’t really worried. I would deal with Spike’s temper tantrum later.

“I think ‘whoa’ is a bit of an understatement, Buf,” Xander said from over my shoulder in the shadows.

Anya shrugged as she came to a stop on the sidewalk in front of me, clutching a stake in her hand. “They have money. We knew that.”

“Yea, but this requires large gobs of money,” I noted. I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, shivering and feeling the comforting wood grain of my stake against my fingers. The fall air was beginning to get nippy at night.

“But, not enough to get a gate and brick fence.” Anya said brightly.

“Oh, well. They’re not good enough for us to stake. They don’t have a fence. Let’s go.” Xander mocked, turning on his heel to walk away.

“Ha, ha. Follow me, you two. Let’s go interrogate some vamps,” I marched past Anya onto the lush lawn that was green even in the dark.

“Buffy,” Xander hissed. “Wait! There could be alarms.”

I halted, glancing down at the ground. “Oh.”

“Let me take care of that.” Xander led the way toward the large house. Being in construction, carpentry, and a little bit of everything else that went along with those occupations, Xander knew his way around buildings, blueprints, and contraptions like alarm systems.

Bringing up the rear of the group, Anya sighed. “Too bad I can’t just teleport inside.” As a vengeance demon, she had the ability to teleport in and out of different places.

“Nope. We’re sticking together. Don’t want you to end up in a dangerous situation all by yourself when we don’t even know what we’re getting into,” I stated.

Then, I stumbled into Xander. Anya narrowly missed hitting me. We were nearing the long front windows of the mansion.

“Xander!” Anya fussed.

“Shhh. I’m trying to concentrate,” Xander whispered as he studied the hedges, probably trying to find alarm triggers.

“Hey, look,” Anya said at a normal volume. “The front door’s open!”

“Ahn! Shhh!” Anya glared at Xander’s remark.

“How convenient,” I said sardonically. Watching the door for a moment and noticing no movement, I approached the stream of light pouring from inside. “Guess we should take the bait.”

Xander and Anya were silent behind me. Removing my stake from my pocket and noiselessly treading across the porch, I eased the front door open with my left foot. The foyer was empty and luminous. The walls were bare, and the rich mauve-colored carpet was clean. The smell of cleaning fluids filled the air.

“Clean vampires. Very interesting.”

“Well, if they have the money for a house like this, Xander, they probably would want to keep it clean,” Anya said in a hushed tone.

“Let’s split up, guys. Xander and Anya, you go that way. I’ll take this way. We’ll sweep the house and see if anyone’s here. Meet back here in about fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Xander nodded.

Twenty minutes later, we reunited empty-handed in the foyer.

“What’d you find?” Anya asked eagerly.

Inhaling deeply, I let out a large sigh. “A whole lotta nothing. Nothing seems unusual. No vamps, no dead bodies in the attic. No clueage found by me.”

Xander’s eyes were shining. “Well, we found something in the study.”

He practically flew down the dark corridor, turning left at the fourth door. The study was dimly lit by the fire roaring in the fireplace and two lamps in the corners of the large room. Hundreds of hardcover books of every shape and size lined the bookshelves built into the walls. The floor was covered in a deep scarlet rug, and a large oak desk was positioned proudly in the middle of the room surrounded by three plush chairs covered in fabric the same color as the rug. Nothing lay atop the desk.

After the awe passed and I closed my open mouth, I said, “Wish Willow was here, so she could tell us if the books were important.”

Xander smiled at his girlfriend. “Well, if you close your eyes and think real vengeful thoughts, maybe Anya could grant your wish.”

Anya and I gave him a funny look.

Not to be thrown off, Xander commented, “Really though. Anya already looked the books over. Nothing unusual there. What’s really fascinating is...”

Grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the desk, Anya cut him off, “The dust covering the two chairs over here.”

I instantly saw what she was talking about. The chair behind the desk and one of the chairs across from the desk were covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Somebody dusted the vamps,” Anya explained. “And not too long ago cause the fire’s still burning.”

“Wonder why.” I was quiet for a moment. “We should regroup at my house. Xander, do you mind calling Willow at the Magic Box and tell her to meet us there?”

“Right. She has my car keys,” Xander agreed.

* * *

Willow arrived at the house at the same time as Xander, Anya, and I pulled into the driveway in Anya’s car. Lights were on in almost all the rooms in the house, and Willow’s car was parked in front of the house. Apparently Dawn had not mastered driving up the driveway just yet. On the porch, I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. I walked to the base of the stairs as the rest of the group filed into the living room.

“Dawn! Spike! We’re back. Gang’s all here to talk about what’s going on.”

A deafening quiet followed my voice. Annoyed at both of them, I jogged up the stairs and peered into Dawn’s room from the hall. The scene that flooded my senses drove me to my knees. A voice that sounded like my own but seemed much farther away screamed. Footsteps thumped quickly up the stairs as my friends gathered to view what I was seeing. One pair of footsteps ran the other direction, but my mind barely noticed.

The room was coated in crayon red blood...fresh blood. The metallic smell overwhelmed me, and I felt faint. Vaguely, I heard a voice that said, “Spike’s car and clothes are gone.”

End chapter 1

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 2: Dark Clouds Brewing

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Spike’s POV. Notably, the places in Stillwater (a real city, btw), Oklahoma were invented and are not based on any real places within the actual city.

Dark Clouds Brewing

A sharp noise resounded through my mind, cutting through the clouds of my dreams. Testing out my muscles, I noticed the softness of whatever I was lying upon...probably a bed. For some reason, I was having a difficult time opening my eyes. My eyelids felt like they were glued together. Wherever I was, the smell was different than home but somehow vaguely familiar. I reached with one hand to search for Buffy who usually snuggled up close to me. Nothing. The sheets surrounding me were cold, and I realized I couldn’t hear Buffy’s usual heartbeat and the deep breathing sounds of her slumber.

Then, I remembered that Buffy and I had a fight. At least, I’d thrown one of my typical anger fits and stormed off when she wanted to talk with her wanker of an ex, Angel. Wonder what they talked about. I knew she loved me...that she had for three years, seven months, and twelve days now...okay, so maybe it was a little obsessive to know how long she loved me down to the day. But sometimes I still worried that she would treat me differently after having contact with Angel, her first love...that she would see the error of her ways in choosing me.

I tried to push Angel out of my thoughts.

Maybe Buffy and crew spent the night at the Magic Box researching and discussing the new menace in Los Angeles and possibly in Sunnydale. If so, a box of donuts and her favorite coffee might be a good way of apologizing for my behavior.

Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretched my arms over my head, and yawned out of habit, not necessity. My vampire eyes adjusted immediately to the dim light of the darkened room I occupied.

*What the bloody fuck?*

Leaping to my feet, I trained all my senses to doing an initial sweep of my location.

I was obviously in a hotel room. The bedclothes were messy from my body’s earlier movements. The room was furnished with a bureau, television, and coffee pot. An open door led to a small bathroom. A window unit that controlled the air conditioner and heater was installed below the window. The heavy curtains were likely impenetrable by sunlight. The lack of sunlight peering around the edges of the curtains indicated that the world outside was cloaked in darkness.

Noting that I was still dressed in my jeans and black T-shirt from the previous evening, I strode purposefully to the door, grabbing the key I noticed on the bureau. Banging the wood against the wall inside my room and not caring about any damage I caused, I found myself outside on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. Not recognizing my surroundings, I began my hunt for the hotel office.

On the way, I picked up clues to my whereabouts. Most of the license plates on the vehicles in the parking lot were Oklahoma plates. Oklahoma? Oddly, my rusty but still black DeSoto was positioned near the hotel office. Must mean I arrived in the middle of the night. Entering the office, I hardly paid attention to the furnishings and headed straight to the main desk. No receptionists were around. Scanning the top of the polished surface, I searched for a piece of paper, a newspaper, anything that would indicate my exact location. Spotting some empty business envelopes in a letter tray, I snatched one and read the return address.

I *was* in bloody Oklahoma! In a place called Stillwater. Stillwater, Oklahoma? Sounded like the sodding middle of nowhere.

My thoughts spinning, I ignored the receptionist who called to me, asking if I needed any help. I sank into an armchair in the lobby, trying to make sense of what was happening. Desperately, I tried to remember what had happened the previous night. Try as I might, the last thing I recalled was entering the house with Dawn in Sunnydale. I had no idea what occurred next, much less how I got to Oklahoma in...

My eyes fell upon a newspaper laying on the end table next to the chair. Where was the date?

*One day?!*

How the hell could I have gotten to Oklahoma in one day? And what the hell happened in that day?

Finding a payphone across the room, I fished thirty-five cents out of my pocket and proceeded to make a collect call. I gave the operator Buffy’s phone number and waited as the phone rang and rang. No response before the answering machine picked up. She obviously wasn’t home. Slamming the phone down and cursing quietly, I stormed out of the hotel lobby.

* * *

The only demon bar in the entire tiny city was mainly packed with vampires and familiarly smelled of cigarette smoke and damp mold. The floor was slick with spilled beer and blood. A jukebox mumbled a country music song in the background. I needed some blood, money for the trip home, and a drink, if possible. The only way I knew to obtain these things was to involve myself in a poker game.

As soon as the clientele noticed I had entered the bar, all chatter ceased, and several heads turned to stare. The country music swelled to a crescendo in the silence. Apparently, vampires didn’t travel through this city often...not like on the hellmouth. I approached the demon bartender with confidence.

“Spot me a mug of blood, mate?”

The demon grunted and poured me a large mug of the warm, thick liquid. My stomach growled as I drank the coppery blood down. The rest of the vampires continued to gape. Handing the glass back to the bartender, I turned to the vampire on my left.

“Is there a poker table around that I could join?”

The vampire, who was in full game face, smiled at me so that the points of his fangs glinted in the dim light. He clapped me on the back, and as he stood, I caught a whiff of decay. As soon as he touched me, talking resumed. The rest of the creatures in the bar had lost interest.

“You’ve come to the right place. Follow me.” He guided me to the back of the bar, knocking on the closed door next to the bathroom.

The door jerked open roughly, and a vampire dressed neatly in a suit glared out at us.

“Got another one for you,” my dirty companion growled.

The young male vampire blocking the doorway looked me up and down skeptically. I smirked at him.

“He’s from *out of town*,” Decay Boy added.

The other vampire’s demeanor changed, and he stepped back, sweeping his arm by to invite me into the room. As soon as I entered, the vampire shut the door firmly and stood in front of it with his arms crossed and legs spread in a stance of readiness.

A group of nondescript vampires sat around the only table in the tiny room. Cards and cash lay on the table. No cigarette smoke polluted the air, and the group drank no alcohol, only blood. The players were obviously serious about the game. The only notable presence in the room was the large male vamp in the corner who practically emanated power. A female vampire slouched in the chair behind him, her head bowed and her arms crossed in an image of submission.

“Join us,” the large vampire growled, nodding at the empty chair across from him.

I turned the chair so that the back was pressed against the table and straddled the seat. The vampire on my right narrowed his eyes at my small act of defiance but slid me a stack of bills and coins and a mug of blood without question.

The game began, and right away, I noticed some patterns in the play. The vampires did not speak during each round except to place bets. Other than the large vampire, whom I learned was named Paul, the players were highly inexperienced at the game. After a short amount of time, Paul and I had the largest stacks of money. With each hand that I won, I sensed that Paul was watching me more and more closely.

When I had almost won the money I needed, Paul broke his formula. Reaching behind him, he grasped the long auburn hair of the female vampire and yanked her roughly up to the table. “I think I’m in need of a good luck kiss.”

The female vampire chose that moment to meet my gaze through the strands of hair that covered her face, and I saw abject terror written in her wide blue eyes. Then, she began struggling and grunting in attempt to remove herself from Paul’s hold. As Paul crushed his lips to hers and then pushed her back into the chair, the other vampires at the table laughed cruelly. In the past, I would have joined them, but my love for Buffy and the soul that permeated my existence shot compassion for the female through my heart.

“Well,” I drawled, “I can see that you have a pretty prize there, Paul.”

Paul chuckled, shuffling the cards. “Yea, I guess I do. But they’re a dime a dozen in this part of the country.”

I just bet they were. “I’d like to get a hold of a piece like that.”

“Hmmm. How about this one?” Paul dealt one card to me and one to himself. “We play. High card takes the cash and the girl.”

I laughed. “I’ve always wanted to do this. They’ve done it in the movies enough times.”

Paul leered at me. “Well, this isn’t the movies. This is for real.”

Paul really had no idea with whom he was dealing. I fingered the card in front of me. “Good.”

We flipped our cards at the same time. Without warning, I used the moment to overturn the card table as well. Taking advantage of the others’ shock, I executed a few well-placed kicks to the vampire guarding the door and to keep Paul at bay. These vamps evidently hadn’t seen a good fight in many moons. Grabbing the female’s cool hand, I hauled her out of the fray and hurried out of the poker room and the bar. Shouting and loud noises trailed after us as the vampires chased after us into the night. Dragging my new acquaintance along, we piled into my car and raced down the highway.

* * *

My vampire companion was mute as I accelerated the car to avoid our pursuers. She remained curled up in the seat as far from me as she could get and stared into the blackened windshield. Her flowered dress was ripped and now that I had her away from the other vampires, I realized she looked like she hadn’t eaten or bathed in days.

After only a few minutes, the cars and motorcycles behind us faded into the background as we raced out of Stillwater. Honestly, I was relieved to leave the little town. True, I had seen the rather large university, but the rest of the town left a lot to be desired. Several miles down the highway, we neared a truck stop where I knew I could fill up the gas tank and obtain necessities for us.

As I was parking near a gas pump, she spoke softly but clearly, “Do you have money for the gas?”

I smiled at her, pulling a wad of cash out of my pocket. “Did you think I hadn’t taken any with me before I left that joint back there?”

Smiling shyly in return, she reached into the top portion of her dress, revealing that she had hidden several folded bills. “I got some, too.”

“What’s your name?”

“Callie.”

I offered her my hand, and she gripped it tightly before releasing it. She might be beaten down, but she was tough. “I’m Spike. Where are you headed?”

“Wherever you are.”

“I’m off for California. I can drop you off anywhere along the way if you’d like.”

“O-okay.” She seemed hesitant.

“I’d take you where I was going, pet, but you wouldn’t last long.” Buffy or another of the gang would stake her on sight. After all, Callie was just another evil, soulless vampire.

She nodded in understanding.

“Listen. I’m going to fill up the tank here, make a phone call, and buy some supplies. They have showers here. See if you can take one. We’ll talk about food when you get back. Do you know how to drive?”

“Yea. I don’t mind helping with that.”

She watched me with wide eyes, reminding me of the family I had in Sunnydale and the trust they had in me. A stab of loneliness went through me. We got out of the car together, and I started to unscrew the gas cap. As she was walking toward the well-lit building, I heard her growl almost imperceptibly.

“Hey, pet!” I called after her.

She twirled back to face me, the wind blowing her long hair and skirt.

“Do me a favor. Don’t get a snack!”

She frowned in confusion as if wondering why another vampire would ask her to do something like not feed. Then, she shrugged in agreement and kept walking.

After I gassed up the car, I checked the fluids. Everything seemed to be in safe working order. Then, I opened the trunk to see if my spare tire was flat. Shock could not even describe my feeling at what was in my trunk. Reaching inside, I pulled out what lay on top of my jumbled heap of clothes.

Dawn’s jeans and T-shirt were thoroughly stained by still damp blood. I concentrated hard and tried to understand. No memories welled up to explain her blood-saturated clothing being in my trunk.

*Damn it!*

I hit the trunk lid with my fist. Luckily, no one was around to witness my behavior.

*What the hell is going on?!*

Tears welled in my eyes. What had happened to my Dawnie? I leaned over the trunk in grief and confusion. That was when I smelled something underneath Dawn’s blood...something I had smelled before. Recognition flooded my mind, and anger came right after it until I was trembling with disbelief.

*He* wouldn’t dare, and if he was back in my life, he would regret messing with me.

Swallowing my feelings, I headed into the truck stop. I gathered a few supplies, including a map of the United States and a map of New Orleans. While I was paying for everything, Callie returned from her shower appearing refreshed. She came to my side, gazing at me curiously because she felt the tension in me.

When I finished picking up my purchases and was heading toward the car, I told her brusquely, “C’mon. There’s been a change of plans.”

She doubled her walking speed to keep up with me. “W-what change?”

“We’re going to New Orleans.”

End chapter 2

**Note: Paul means "small" and is symbolic of Paul's role as small time leader of the vamps in Stillwater and his narrowmindedness. Callie means "beautiful."**

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