| One Good Day by Michelle |
| 9:27 p.m. It was a time that would forever be emblazoned in Spike's memory. It was at that time on a Thursday night that his chip stopped working. Drucilla was the one that had started things in motion several months ago. Before he betrayed his dark queen, before he cut Harmony off once and for all. "Electricity lies, Spike," she had said, running her fingers over his head. "It tells you you're not a bad dog, but you are." He had had plenty of time to ponder her cryptic statement in the dankness of his crypt, a bottle of whiskey his only companion. Drucilla was insane, but she was also clairvoyant and had been incredibly lucid that night. Spike had entertained several theories regarding her claim. He had never tried them out due to his overwhelming hatred of pain, but he had entertained them. Except on that Thursday night at 9:27 p.m. He had been in the Magic Shop, providing the Scoobies with entertainment because it was a slow night for them demon-wise. And as they insulted and emasculated him, those theories and plans resurfaced and ran through his brain. If he focused, if he didn't think about it, then maybe . . . After everyone left except him and the ex-demon, he got to test his theories out. He was already a short step away from the edge of rage. So when Anya made a comment about his short-circuited intelligence at 9:27 p.m., shoving his fist through her chest seemed like the most natural thing to do. He was pretty sure his face was an exact replica of hers, plastered with shock and disbelief. The look was still on her face as he withdrew his hand from her chest, her still-beating heart in his palm. It was still there as her body fell to the floor, lifeless. His blue eyes stared at the heart, the body, and the heart again. Then a grin, a purely evil show of teeth, grew on his face. The chip was no longer in surmountable, which meant the Slayer was once again open prey. The ex-demon's heart made a wet, plopping sound as he dropped it onto the ground next to her corpse. Careful not to step in blood he calmly walked out of the store. With very little finesse, Spike grabbed the first human he came across and ripped into her neck. The rich blood that rushed into his mouth was like ambrosia. It was human blood, warm and fresh, and he had killed to get it. Two others met their death at his hands on they way back to his crypt. Not because he was hungry, but because he could. He wasn't that upset that the ex-demon had met a quick end. He had rather liked her, a part from her degrading comments, and he had needed to find out he could overcome the chip. The others could make up for her lack of pain. Darkness bled into day, and he began to plan. Normally he didn't do very well with plans, or at least didn't bother to carry them out, but this time he would. This time was different. He had to avenge his honor, make them all pay. When he woke up from the restless, excited sleep he had drifted into, he knew Xander would be his first true target. The boy would be the most upset over Anya's death and therefore the easiest mark. He had been careful not to leave any identifying marks when he had left, so the Slayer and her followers barely paid attention to him when he returned to the scene of the crime. Which was good, because he needed to be seen as harmless. "What has you lot in a tizzy?" he asked, feigning ignorance. The redheaded witch spared him a glance. "Some demon killed Anya." Then she paused, remembering something. "Did you see anything last night, Spike?" "No, not a thing." He hadn't been able to see himself kill her, so it was true. "I can't believe she's dead," Xander said. The boy was sitting on the stairs to the top level, staring at the spot Anya had lain. The floor was still stained crimson from her blood. The Slayer looked at him sympathetically, while Spike tried not to laugh. "Why don't you go home, Xan," she suggested. "Get some rest." "And something to eat," added Willow. "You haven't had anything all day." He shook his head. "I don't think I could do either." "Come on," Buffy said, grabbing his arm. "I'll walk you home." "No!" Spike objected, drawing the full attention of everyone present. "No, I'll take him. You should stay here, find out what did this terrible thing." He dropped his head in what he hoped was a shy and uncertain move. There was silence for a few moments before Giles joined in. "He's right. Xander, go with Spike." Inwardly, the vampire was doing the dance of joy. Outwardly, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, "Come on, whelp." As they left the shop, he added, "I need to stop at my place on the way." They walked to and through the cemetery in silence, each wrapped up in their thoughts. Xander finally spoke when they were inside the stone structure. "You know, fangless, you don't have to baby-sit me," he said, staring at the door as if his life depended on it. "I'm not," Spike answered. He walked around his home, picking up objects and testing their weight to see which would be best to use. The boy scoffed. "Yes, you are. You're hoping that doing this will get you on Buffy's good side. I don't need someone to look after me." "I'm not baby-sitting you," Spike said again, lifting up two empty whiskey bottles. He hefted them in their hands, judging their weight, but put them back down after a minute. "And you do to need lookin' after. Your girlfriend's dead." A shudder ran through the mortal's body. "I keep wondering if she felt any pain," he said, more to himself than his companion. Spike wasn't really listening anyway. He found a double-edged ax propped up in a corner and picked it up, satisfied with his choice. Walking over to Xander, the vampire held the ax so the flat part was parallel with the ground. Then he lifted it above his head for more momentum and strength. "Did she see it coming?" Xander was still talking, still staring at the wall. He didn't see the vampire's actions behind him. "Did it take a long time?" "No, it was quick," Spike said, bringing the ax down. The boy started to turn. "How do you kn-" He was unconscious before he could finish his sentence. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Since it was where Xander has done most of his tormenting, Spike thought it was poetic to bring the boy to his parent's basement. Placing him in the same chair he had once occupied, Spike tied Xander up, using chains so escape would be close to impossible. It was several more hours before the mortal regained consciousness. Spike watched from his perch as Xander struggled to free himself. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his throat. "Spike," Xander said, recognizing the laugh. "What's going on? Who tied me up?" When the vampire made no move to answer, Xander huffed. "Come on, untie me before whatever it is gets back." "I've got news for you, Harris," Spike said, taking one last drag from his cigarette before grinding it into the floor. "It never left." "But that's impossible. You're the biteless wonder." Spike chuckled. "Not anymore. Your fuck-bunny is proof of that." "Anya." The boy visibly paled. "You . . . you killed Anya." The Englishman walked over and crouched before Xander. "Well, well, not the dullest light bulb after all. If it makes you feel any better, it was quick." Another chuckle. "Shocked the hell out of us, both." Xander began to struggle against the chains again. "You undead bastard. I'm going to stake you myself." "Oh, I'm tremblin'." Spike stood up again and looked down at his hostage. "I'm goin' to kill your friends, one by one, and you're goin' to sit here and be able to do nothin'." "Why not just kill me?" "Because I'll need to share my victory with somebody when I kill Buffy." The vampire walked over to the stairs, but paused at the bottom. "Feel free to scream all you like. No one can hear you; I made sure of it." Spike grinned as he made his way to the University of California at Sunnydale campus. It had been along time since he had been able to terrorize anyone and it felt damn good. He just might overload on it. Thanks to modern technology he found out where the witches' room was. If something worked well the first time, he didn't see why he couldn't use it again. He waited until a few minutes before sunrise to knock frantically on their door. The blonde was the one to answer the door. "Spike?" "He's gone," Spike said. "I turned my back for a second, and he took off." Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Who?" "Xander. This was the closest place, and the sun is rising . . ." "Oh. Oh!" She moved to the side. "Come in." He walked past her, an evil smile on his face that was gone when he turned back to face her. "Where's Red?" "She's in the bathroom, but s-she'll be back in a minute." "Good." Then he reached out and snapped Tara's neck. "Just enough time." The witch fell to the ground very much like Anya had. He wasn't upset that she was a quick kill, either. He barely knew her enough to hate her. Not wanting to waste time, Spike picked the blonde witch up and dropped her onto the bed. He broke a few more of the girl's bones to make it obvious something was wrong. Once he was satisfied, he moved into the shadows and waited for his prey to return. Her reaction was one of such beauty that he wished he had a video camera to record it for all time. She walked in, closed the door, and glanced at her girlfriend while she put her clothes in their hamper. "Decide to go to bed without me, sleepyhead?" Willow asked. She paused when she didn't get an answer. "Tara? Don't tell me you've already fallen asleep." Still getting no response, she fully turned and saw her dead lover. She was frozen for a minute before life and grief took over her body again. "Tara!" she screamed, rushing to the blonde's side. Her hands moved hesitantly at first, afraid to touch or damage, but at last the read-head gathered the girl to her and began to sob. Spike watched as Willow gently set the girl down after a while, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I'll find out who did this to you, baby. I'll find out who did this to you and make them pay." She was so caught up in her grief that she didn't notice him slink behind her as she picked up the phone. "Giles? Tara's . . . Tara's dead. No, her neck's broken." A pause as she listened to him. "Okay, I'll wait here." Then she hung up without saying good-bye. His arms were around her as soon as she put the phone down. "Wonderful day, isn't it, pet?" he asked, whispering into her ear. As she began to struggle he tightened his grip until he heard the bones break. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Xander - it was quick." "Xander," she breathed out raggedly. "Don't worry, he's still alive, at least for the moment. Can't say the same for his girl. Or yours." She began to cry again, and any worry he had of her magic vanished. Her powers were buried beneath her sorrow and pain. He grinned in triumph as his face shifted and he lowered his fangs to her neck. Draining the redhead was true bliss, all of her power and fear and grief rolled into a fine vintage. He would have preferred to kill her in her old dorm room, to succeed where he had failed before, but it was still just as satisfying. Letting her bloodless body slump to the floor, he picked up the phone and hit redial. "Watcher? It's Spike." An explosive sigh blasted his ear. "Spike, I don't have time for this. Tara-" "Is dead, I know. Red told me. Listen, Dru's back in town and I think she's behind all of this." "Really? Buffy and I hadn't heard anything." "Well, we've got two dead bodies that say otherwise." The English mortal paused, and Spike knew then that he had hooked his next victim. "I've got to call Buffy back and tell her." "Red's already on it. They're headed over to the mansion as we speak. I told her I'd phone you and let you know." "Then I'll meet you there." The Watcher hung up, leaving Spike listening to the dial tone and coasting on wave after wave of heady victory. next |