More of Chapter 4
The dark shape she had hit twisted and landed on his feet, his long, dark leather coat concealing his features for a moment, then blowing away to reveal a beautiful, pale and extremely pissed off face.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Slayer?" Spike demanded.
She could see the ill-concealed rage in his eyes, vivid in the pale light of the moon "Going hunting, Spike?" She asked pleasantly, a hint of steel running through her voice.
He was undaunted. His body emanated power, his legs slightly spread and firmly braced against the sidewalk, his coat rippling lightly in the wind. He stood as if he owned the world. "Actually, yes," he said, his voice betraying his impatience. "Not what you're thinking though."
She smiled, subconsciously mimicking Angelus' confident smirk, "really?" She said, allowing her sarcasm to seep off her voice. Behind Spike, in the dark, she could barely make out shapes. Human shapes. So Spike brought an entourage, she thought, half-surprised they didn't attack her yet.
"Yes, really." She could sense the waves of impatience rolling off him. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be nursing Peaches back to health." Fear suddenly took hold of his voice, "he's alright, isn't he?"
She grinned sweetly, the violence in her eyes untouched, "Angel's fine. Nice to know you care, though. I'll be sure to give him your best as soon as he's up and around." She took a step closer, a stake sliding smoothly into her hand. She could see the shapes behind the pale vampire shift and undulate, their distress evident. Nevertheless, without bothering to look back he raised a commanding hand, stopping them from moving forward.
"Just hold on and think about this, pet," he took a step back away from her. "I helped you, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," she slid forward, her body poised to strike. "Angel's out of hell, we've got our own prophecy. As far as I can tell, I don't need you anymore."
"Like hell you don't," he rumbled. Moving so fast he was no more than a blur in her eyes, he pushed her to the side, dropping them both to the ground as a blade cleaved the air neatly between them.She was on her feet in an instant, gaping as a dozen of Spike's minions burst from the shadows, weapons in hand, to rush past her and face her attacker. She whirled to watch a familiar black cloaked figure slice his way through Spike's vampires.
"Go for the eyes!" Spike barked, his body moving swiftly. Already two of his cronies had been dusted and another had been knocked unconscious after sailing into a brick wall, his sword landing on the pavement with a steely clang.
She stood undecided for a moment, then shrugged, a familiar enemy she could handle. These black cloaked things were something else altogether. She'd deal with Spike later, preferably when they weren't fighting a common enemy.
She raced to the unconscious vampire, grabbed his sword and jumped into the fray. She ducked under a vampire, wincing as a knife plunged through his shoulder spraying blood into her face. She spit, the metallic taste of blood rancid in her mouth. She ducked under the wounded vampire as he staggered back clutching his arm, and found herself directly in front of the cloaked figure.
For the first time she noticed a dim red glow within the cloak's hood where eyes should have been. For a moment she couldn't take her eyes off the glow, it seemed to grow and pulse almost like a beating heart. Everything slowed down, suddenly, time stretched out as she watched bemused a sword being raised against her. They have swords that can cut through rocks, she thought sluggishly.
"Protect the Slayer!" She heard Spike cry from behind her. Those were three little words she never thought she'd hear from him, somewhere in the back of her mind she was almost amused.
She watched the sword swing towards her, awed by the way the sleek blade reflected the moonlight, almost unable to rip her gaze away. The blade arched slowly, almost casually in a killing blow towards her neck.
Finally the need to survive saved her, her arms moved with a will of their own to raise her own sword. She deflected the blow a hair's width from her neck, wincing as the sparks seared her skin and tremors ran down to her shoulders. But her sword held its own.Fine workmanship, her mind noted as she struggled to push the sword off her neck. Suddenly there was no more resistance as the figure dropped his sword and began clutching at his face frantically.
She leaped back, confused as she watched the figure tear off his hood to pull at the dagger embedded in its eye. "You were saying something about not needing me, pet?" Spike snickered. She ignored him, far too caught up in her attacker's actions.
He pulled at the dagger, blocking their view of his face in the process. With a wet, slithering sound it slid out of his face to gleam slightly in the moonlight like a dark accusation. He raised his face to the moon, his knees buckling beneath him as his voice tore out in a beseeching wail.
Buffy gasped, "get away from him!" She managed to yell out as she turned to run. She dropped to the ground as she heard the blast behind her, feeling the fire blaze above her body as the figure exploded into flames.
"Wow," she heard Spike mutter beside her as he raised himself from the pavement. "They die hard, those little buggers."
She lifted herself slowly, dusting herself off and checking for injuries in the process. Other than a slight ache in her arms that was already fading she was fine. More than that - she was lucky, again. Spike's goons weren't - five were severely injured and another four were now dust in the wind. She heard Spike rumble curses as he took stock of his bedraggled crew.
"Go home and rest," he told them. "Feed from the reserves," he added catching the evil gleam in the Slayer's eyes.
She nodded and turned to walk away, muttering to herself. Spike would get to live another night. After a few steps she felt him walk beside her, "where do you think you're you going?" She demanded.
"I told you I was going to see Daddy dearest tonight."
"Fine," she muttered sullenly. It would have felt so good to plunge a stake through his heart, but it just didn't seem right after what he'd done. "Why did you tell them to protect me?" She asked suddenly.He shrugged, "because whatever Angel-cake is going to be like when he wakes up, I'd bet a pint of beer he's going to be equally peeved if he finds you six feet under."
She nodded, that made sense. Angel had to save the world somehow, and being peeved was not an emotion anyone would want the world's savior to experience. "Always an agenda with you, Spike," she muttered.
He peered at her in surprise, moonlight glinting off his sharp features, "I just saved your life, luv. What's with the bitchy attitude?"
She turned on him, her eyes a flash of green in the night, "because this is all your fault!"
"My fault?" He demanded, "how is this my fault?"
"If you hadn't drudged up that stupid Judge demon, Angel and I would have never been almost killed and then we would never have..." She stopped, blushing furiously. She spun around, turning her back on the stunned vampire and marched away. His laughter, like clear crystal shimmering through the night, stopped her cold.
"You have got to be kidding!" He chortled, half-choking on his own humor. "I have been accused of many things, pet, most of them true," he added ruefully, "but I have never been responsible for shagging I wasn't involved in. Hell," he laughed, "sometimes I couldn't be held responsible for shagging I was involved in."
She blushed even harder, knowing what he said was true. "Besides," he added on a more serious note, "it was just a matter of time with you two. Knowing soul-boy, he probably wouldn't have gotten his rocks off somewhere else while he was waiting for you to mature." He rolled his eyes at the night sky, "virgins," he muttered, "never did see what all the fuss was about them. Give me a nice willing experienced body any day. How long did he go without, six months? A year?"
"Eighty years," she murmured so softly that no one human could have possibly heard her. Unfortunately her companion didn't fit that category.
"Eighty bloody years?!" He spluttered, his eyes widening in disbelief, "no wonder he walked around depressed all the time. You should have ran a stake through his heart to put him out of his misery."A smile began to worm its way across her face, "yeah, I get it Spike."
"Eighty years," he shook his head. "After a week of celibacy, I start looking at poodles funny."
"I said I get it Spike," A full-blown smile had smeared itself across her face.
"Farm animals run away with terror..."
She was laughing uncontrollably now, "shut up, Spike."
He grinned wickedly to himself as they walked side by side to the mansion. She fervently hoped they wouldn't be running into any unfortunate poodles.
"Criminals."
"No."
"Annoying busty cheerleaders with perky attitudes."
"No."
"Principal Snyder."
She thought for a moment, "I'll get back to you."
Giles raised his head as Buffy and Spike burst in the mansion. Xander and Willow stared at them in surprise, "what're you talking about?"
"Just hammering out the last few quirks in our alliance," the platinum blond replied blithely. "We're figuring out who I'm allowed to eat for being such a good demon and getting to fight with the Slayer," he explained at their confused looks. "So far we've narrowed it down to people who hum Brittany Spears songs, principal Snyder and Politicians."
"Buffy!" Giles rose, outraged.
"That's not true!" She objected with a grin, "I never agreed to the Politicians." She glanced over at the annoying vampire beside her. He was frozen in place, his face a mask of concentration. "Spike?"
Even More of Chapter 4
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