Part One

"... and did it my - way!" Spike bounced in his seat as he steered erratically, taking another swig of the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He hummed along to the radio as he pulled a cigarette out of the half-crumpled soft pack, holding it between his lips as he pushed in the cigarette lighter in his DeSoto. The car swerved dangerously as he straightened in his seat.

"Dru, I'm comin' baby," he mumbled around the cigarette filter. The lighter popped out and he grabbed it, fumbling with it for a moment before dropping it directly into his lap. About three seconds later, his crotch became uncomfortably hot, and he plucked the lighter up by the hot metal part. He hissed in pain and tossed it to his other hand, doing an impromptu 'hot potato' with the small object. Without his hands on the wheel, the car began to drift off to the left, across the yellow lines and to the other side of the road. Swearing, Spike returned the lighter to its normal place beneath the stereo.

A loud crunch filled the empty air and he swore loudly as his classic car wrapped itself around a telephone pole. He braced himself, waiting for the precariously wobbling pole to land atop the DeSoto, but it was apparently his lucky day, because it fell in the other direction, sparking wires writhing like snakes against the sandy ground. His windshield was smashed in. For the time being, he was faced away from the sun, but as the day went on, he'd be in trouble. His car was facing south, and around noon, he'd have an issue with his body wanting to catch fire.

The sun was still fairly low in the sky. If he moved quickly, he could gather up his belongings and wait out the day in his trunk. He tossed his cigarettes and lighter into a bag, with two full bottles of Jack Daniels, then while thanking the Powers for his preternatural speed, he leapt out of the drivers' seat and dashed around the car, where he wrenched open the trunk and shut it after him. Only then did he realize that he now had no way out of his car.

During the next twelve hours, when he wasn't swearing, smoking, or getting drunker, he nudged at the backseat of the DeSoto. He could feel it starting to give, and when he sensed the sunset, he turned himself so he could give a strong kick to it. He wound up, and managed to thrust his foot through the material of the seat. Cursing loudly, he tried again, pushing with both feet against the seat and sighed with relief when the metal frame gave way with a groan as he bent it forward. He crawled through the space and out of the car, then began his trek back toward the Hellmouth.

~*~*~*~*~

One black-tipped finger swirled around in the amber liquid that had been recently poured into the shot glass. The owner of said finger sighed, slumping down further on the barstool.

"I was gonna go back to 'er," Spike said to nobody in particular, frowning when a fly landed in his drink. "Gonna make 'er love me, that's what I said I was gonna do... Then skreeeee-BANG!" he exclaimed, causing the large Folliculata demon sitting next to him to jump. "No more car. No more Dru." He choked back a sob. "I'm nothin' without 'er..."

The bleach-blond vampire plucked the fly out of his glass, then took the shot. He slammed the shot glass onto the bar, his fingers tightening around it until the glass threatened to give way. "Gimme 'nother."

"Are you sure, Spike?" Willie asked, glancing over at him. He polished a beer mug nonchalantly.

Spike snarled and his demon came to the forefront. "I said, gimme 'nother one, mate," he growled menacingly.

The beaded curtain parted and Willie sighed, relieved to see the person who had entered. "Oh, hello Slayer. Look, everyone, it's the Slayer!" he called loudly. The bar cleared almost immediately. He turned to her. "What can I do for you?"

Her hand shot out and she grabbed him by the throat, half-dragging him across the bar. Spike took this opportunity to grab a bottle of Jim Beam and wrench the cap off, guzzling half of its contents. "Hey Willie. Rumor has it that the Mayor's ascending. Care to give me some info?"

"I can't tell you that there's another Slayer involved here, Buffy," the bartender said quietly as he attempted to keep his trembling from showing. "It would ruin the whole confidentiality factor that I promised my patrons of a few dozen vampires, who tell me in utmost secrecy that he's planning it for the biggest day of the school year."

She dropped Willie, who by now was quivering in fear. "Thanks for nothing, Willie." She turned to leave, then stopped. "Spike." Her back was still to him. Maybe he could slip out the back door...

No such luck. She turned to face him, planting her hands on her hips.

"Oh, Slayer, fancy meeting you here." He tried to smile, but his fangs cut into his lip and made it hurt.

"Cut the crap, Spike. Why didn't you leave town when I told you to?" She pulled out a stake and the remaining few patrons made a run for it, knocking over chairs and spilling drinks in their haste to leave. Grabbing Spike by the collar of his shirt, she lifted him off the barstool and commanded, "Outside. Now."

He glanced out the window. "Um... pet... unless you want to be carted off to the loony bin for conversing with a large pile of dust, I'd suggest we keep this one in here."

"Fine. Come with me." She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a back room, filled with unopened bottles. She slammed the door and stood in front of it, stake still in hand, thinking of ways to keep him from escaping. "Why the hell are you here?" she asked, glaring at the bleached-blond.

"I missed you?" Closing his eyes for a moment, he allowed his face to return to normal. "Seriously, Slayer, I was going to leave..."

"Nice try." She folded her arms across her chest, causing her breasts to bulge over the top of her tank top. Spike's eyes were drawn to the motion and he tried not to gape as he noticed for the first time that she had nice cleavage. "Listen Spike, I'm having a really shitty week, so if you don't give me your word that you'll be out of here in two days, I'll have to kill you." She smiled sweetly.

"I do what I please," Spike retorted. "Only stuck around because the DeSoto had a bit of a confrontation with a telephone pole."

"Are you in on the ascension? Are you part of Trick's gang?" she demanded, uncrossing her arms. Spike nearly whimpered in disappointment, barely stifling the noise.

"Who the bloody hell is Trick?" he asked, pulling a silver flask out of his duster and gulping some, then offering it to her. "Care for a drink, luv?"

She ignored his second question. "Well, either you're completely stupid, or Trick doesn't know you're in town. He's the new master around here."

Now it was his turn to glare. "New master? Far as I can remember, the Big Bad was the only master in this town. The Coiffed One doesn't count, bloody poof."

"He'll find you soon enough," she said dismissively. "Most vamps are afraid of him."

"But not your Saint Angel, I s'pose," he snarked.

"I wouldn't know," Buffy replied, sighing. "He dumped me - and why am I telling you this?" she wondered aloud. "I shouldn't be telling you - "

"Lemme guess," Spike asked, slightly inebriatedly. He furrowed his brow, pursing his lips and darkening his eyes, then adopting a hideous American accent. "We can't be together, I'll just end up hurting you, and you need someone who can shag you silly," he quoted. He relaxed his face. "That about the size of it?"

The blond Slayer snickered despite herself. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. There was also a part about having someone to walk in the sunlight with, and..."

"He's always been a bloody idiot," Spike said. "Every vamp knows about the Gem of Ammara."

"The what of whozit?"

"Gem of Ammara. Sort of like a vamp Holy Grail, I s'pose is the best explanation. Makes a vamp unbeatable, unkillable. No weaknesses." He cocked his head. "Looked for it m'self once, though I didn't really have a need for the thing."

"So you're saying that Angel knew about the Gem..." Buffy began.

"An' he never looked for it," Spike finished. "Pillock. All soul-havin' and rot." He furrowed his brow once more. "I might lose my soul," he said in the American accent. "Even with the ring..."

Buffy's eyes widened. "If the ring got into Angelus' hands..." she said with a gasp.

Spike chuckled. "Guess I'll just 'ave to find it first then," he said.

"Why should I believe that you want to find the ring just to keep it away from Angel?" Buffy asked, skeptical.

He raised an eyebrow. "I never said that I wanted it just to keep it from the poofter," he replied. "Thing like that... could be great. I could finally work on my tan."

"Great. Taking something that'll make you invincible away from one soulless monster and giving it to another soulless monster. Fantastic idea." She rolled her eyes. "How about, I find the gem, destroy it, and go home happy?"

"You know that thing where all the vampires on the planet want to kill you?" Spike asked instead of responding to her question. "If you destroyed the Gem, it'd be worse than ever."

"So why don't you?" At his raised eyebrow, she amended, "Destroy it, I mean. Not kill me. Not that you could. I'd kick your ass if you tried. I'll stop now."

Spike rolled his eyes, changing his previous query a bit. "You know that thing where all the vampires on the planet want to kill me for betraying Angelus?" he asked. She nodded, and he looked at her pointedly.

"Oh." Then she perked up. "But that wouldn't be so bad, I mean the world would be rid of the vampire I've been trying to get rid of for a few years now... and why aren't we fighting?"

"Wouldn't exactly be a fair fight," he responded. "What with the sunlight an' all." He glanced around. "You gonna let me out of 'ere anytime soon?"

"You gonna leave town and never come back?"

"Not likely," he replied. "Bloody 'ell, why won't you let me out? There's got to be better things you could be doin' with your time than chattin' up your mortal enemy."

Buffy paused, pondering for a moment. "Hmm... I could be studying for finals, or helping my mom unpack the fertility exhibit she just got in at the gallery... nope. Far more fun to annoy the hell out of you."

"Bugger," Spike groaned, leaning up against a cool, cinderblock wall and sliding down until he was slumped on the floor. "Of all the Slayers in the world, why did the one I couldn't kill 'ave to be so bloody aggrivatin'?"

~*~*~*~*~

"Okay, here's the plan," Buffy said as they approached the SHS library.

"What's that, Slayer?"

"Try not to get dusted."

He snorted. "Good plan. Nearly perfected that one m'self."

They walked into the library, and the bleached-blond vampire found himself immediately pinned to the card catalog by 190 pounds of snarling Sire. "What are you doing here, Spike?" Angel demanded menacingly, brandishing a stake and gripping it tightly, poised over his Childe's heart.

"Let him up, Angel," Buffy said softly, and Angel's grip lessened on the younger vampire.

The souled vampire looked over at the Slayer. "Why is Spike here?" he asked again.

"Let him go and I'll tell you," Buffy responded. Angel immediately released Spike, who straightened his duster, glaring at his Sire. "Found him in the Alibi Room this afternoon. He doesn't know Trick, and he's willing to help out..." If I find that stupid Gem of his, her thoughts finished. "Everyone, sit," she said. Everyone in the room followed her instruction. Hmm. Synchronized sitting.

Spike hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs. "Thanks ever so for the welcome wagon, Peaches," he snarked. "You can put the crossbow down, Whelp, you're not even holdin' it right."

The crossbow rattled slightly in Xander's shaking hands, and Buffy took it from him. "He's right. Bad form," she critiqued. "Wesley, for God's sake get out here."

The younger Watcher emerged, holding a cross out in front of him. "That's William the Bloody," he said, quite shaken.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yes, you're in the same room with William the Bloody and the Scourge - " Angel winced, " - of Europe. Now calm down before you piss your pants." Pansy.

"Now, then," Giles said, taking over. "Please do tell why you're here again, Spike," he spat disdainfully.

"Slayer might remember my little speech about likin' the world that I gave this time last year," Spike began. He glanced at Buffy, who nodded. "Now, unless I'm mistaken, an ascended demon would mess up this lovely little world you humans've built so pretty an' rot... an' I don't fancy livin' in a world where a bloke can't get an easy meal."

"Anya said something to that extent," the older Watcher commented. "The ascension she witnessed - the village was gone within hours."

"So I figure, one more master vamp fightin' for the goodie-good guys an' you lot'll 'ave a fightin' chance."

"He's agreed to be our double agent," Buffy said, from her position by the book cage. "The other vamps think he's on their side."

"You're gonna need weapons. Soon as the sun eclipses, vamps'll be out in full-force, turnin' your class into demon kibbles n bits..." He paused. "Except Wolf-boy there. Werewolf tastes gamey."

Oz raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Wesley cleared his throat. "How do you know all this?" he asked timidly. "And, more importantly, why are you helping us?"

"Didn't we cover this already? Much as I wouldn't miss the lot of you, I sort of like Sunny-Hell, and wouldn't enjoy it being demolished by a giant slimy."

"There's something else you should know," Buffy said, turning to Spike. "The other Slayer... the one who was called after Drusilla - " she paused, swallowing and closing her eyes tightly, then opening them again. " - after Kendra died... she went rogue on us. She was Wes's responsibility," she said, glaring at the still nervous-as-hell Englishman. "Guess they don't train Watchers like they used to. Anyway, she's the Mayor's main fighter. She's tough, but I can take her. That's gonna take a third of our major man-power out of the vamp-fighting force."

"Nah," Spike said. "I'm sure that Peaches an' m'self can handle whatever they throw at us."

Send Feedback
Next Part
R to NC-17