“Let’s go to work.”

Even in the midst of the ensuing battle, rain soaking to the bone, screams echoing from the advancing horde, in the midst of Hell, it took all of Spike’s self-control not to snort with laughter. Of course, Peaches has to go out on some big cheesy line. Who the bleedin’ hell does he think he is, Haratio Caine?

Heh, and one last joke from me. Spike smiled one last time – for Fred, for Wesley, for Buffy and Dawn, wherever they might be – and launched himself into the fray after Angel and Illyria.

The demons came. And it was glorious.

~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, and the glorious was nowhere to be found.

Spike thrust his sword into the chest of a burly green-skinned demon, pausing only a moment as his opponent sank to its knees with a bellow, then planted his foot on its shoulder and wrenching his blade free. Spinning quickly, the vampire brought the weapon around in a wide arc, decapitating another monster.

Angel was missing, Gunn had gone down only seconds in to the fight, but Illyria was slowly encircling herself in a ring of mutilated corpses. Good on her.

Spike took a step towards her, limping and faltering as his many injuries caught up with him. He was bleeding copiously from at least a dozen wounds and with no end to the advancing demons, Spike knew the situation was not going to get better.

Suddenly, off to his right, Angel appeared, dripping blood and rain and looking angry as hell. Seeming to not notice Spike, the other vampire broke into a dead run in Illyria’s direction. What Angel also failed to notice was the twenty-foot-tall giant behind him.

Spike tried to shout, warn Angel about the behemoth that was bearing down on him, but his throat was too hoarse. Knowing full well what he was about to do to his own chances, Spike hefted the sword he had won from a dead opponent only twenty minutes ago and threw it end over end.

The sword lodged itself in the giant’s right eye. Needless to say, the beast did not appreciate being stabbed in the eye. Bellowing loudly, the giant began to stumble aimlessly, crushing the many smaller demons that were underfoot.

Score one for us.

Angel, oblivious to the chaos behind him, kept racing for Illyria, who continued ripping demons apart with her bare hands. Spike turned away from them, readying himself for another onslaught from the hordes of hell.

Spike felt the change in atmosphere before he saw it. The very air around him seemed to press in, then the phenomena vanished. In its place was a feeling of which Spike had not felt in months. Power, and a demon older than anything he had ever faced.

A crack of light blinded Spike. Demons began to scream. When he managed to open his eyes, Spike saw demons running in all directions. People were flooding into the mouth of the ally, maybe a hundred or more. All were armed. A portal of white light shrank out of sight behind them, obviously their point of origin.

Still fighting to maintain his balance, Spike began to retreat down the ally, towards Angel and Illyria.

The warriors formed several lines, adopting fighting stances. The demons seemed to gather themselves enough to all face one single direction.

With an almighty battle cry from both armies, the demons and the Slayers clashed head on.

Complete and absolute chaos. Within seconds blood and gore coated nearly every surface. Spike grinned as demons died and girls hacked and slashed their way towards the back of the ally.

~~~~~

Blood was in her eyes.

Buffy pulled the blade of the scythe out of her last opponent and made for another. The conditions were poor, but she had worked with less. All around her, her sisters fought with a fire and passion that made her want to weep.

In their brutality – their deathly grace – they were beautiful.

But she had eyes for only one killer tonight.

Quickly dispatching a Varhall, then some nasty, scaly thing with too many arms, the Slayer looked around in search of Willow. The witch was nearby, that much was obvious from the tingle of energy in the air and the demons that ran past her to avoid being incinerated.

Slayers were everywhere, killing indiscriminately. Some weird chick with blue hair was also killing demons. Strange.

Buffy’s blood was pumping, she felt alive for the first time in months. This all felt so good.

~~~~

A heavy axe was lying on the pavement being trampled by demons. Spike rolled, caught it up and began swinging again. It took all of his strength to remain upright, but it was either live or die, and Spike had no intention of doing the latter.

The demons were starting to noticeably decrease in numbers. The Slayers were gaining ground. Angel was no where in sight but Blue was like the Energizer Bunny – boom-boom-boom – dead demons.

Suddenly, Spike was caught from behind by a set of huge, ropey arms. With his own arms immobilized, the vampire could only attempt to squirm out of the snarling demon’s grasp. His captor let out a great roar, readying itself for the kill, when it jerked and its grip loosened. The demon’s body slumped and Spike staggered forward. As he looked around he saw the demon hit the ground. Its back had been torn open, from bottom to top, in one clean stroke.

A voice shouted over the rain and screams. “That’s what? 17 to 12, right Rona?”

A redheaded Slayer stood beside the dispatched demon, axe in hand, looking off in the direction of one of her fellows. Vi smirked as Rona flung back an inaudible retort. Then the Slayer was running off another direction, only shooting Spike an acknowledgement of a glance.

Shaken by the girl’s appearance, Spike looked around, trying to find a demon that was not engaged in battle. Then he saw it.

One Slayer lay broken on the wet ground; two others were helping her up, one tall and dark, the other short, her blond hair tied up in a ponytail. As he watched the tall Slayer gathered the injured one up and carried her away. The blond remained in place, a scythe swaying gently in her grip.

Behind her, another giant had appeared, this one maybe fifteen feet tall, but promising to be no less lethal than the previous one, judging by the club it held in its massive fist. The blond Slayer, distracted by a nearby brawl, did not notice.

Spike started to run. She was forty feet away at most, and battling demons and Slayers seemed to jump in his path every few steps. He was thirty feet away. The giant let out a roar.

Fifteen.

It raised the club.

Ten.

“Buffy!”

She looked up. Her eyes went wide.

He made contact and together they rolled out of the giant’s path. Slayers came out of nowhere and swarmed it, taking it down as it bellowed.

They landed and rolled, coming to a stop side-by-side. Slowly, Spike looked up.

Blue eyes meet green.

Soaking wet and mussed, panting heavily, Buffy had never looked more beautiful.

~~~~~

Oh.

Spike was here.

Oh.

He smiled softly, cerulean gaze searching her features.

She smiled in kind.

Moments passed. They were still entwined, limbs cradling each other. His eyes dropped to her lips and then back up again.

Her whole body was singing, full and warm and strong. A twinge – a spark – jolted through her heart.

He leaned in, she met him halfway.

Oh.

She was sent catapulted back, rolling again. The giant had flailed, sending its club flying. The crude weapon landed where the two warriors had been a heartbeat before. Buffy saw Spike land, having thrown himself in the opposite direction to avoid the blow. He glanced in her direction to assure himself that she was alright, and then he was up and fighting. He caught up the axe he had dropped, charging the rampaging giant.

Buffy sprung to her feet, scythe still in hand and joined the fray. The Slayers formed a circle, surrounding the massive demon on all sides, but Spike was holding his own. At least until the giant got in a lucky hit. Once again airborne, he went flying backwards.

Buffy ran, leaping at the last possible second and planting both feet on the giant’s back. It fell with a moan and landed with a thud. Still in mid-fall, Buffy brought the scythe down in a wide arc and cleanly severed the beast’s spine. It was dead before it hit the pavement.

The rain continued to fall, but it was over. The Slayers moved in, looking at the demon and their leader.

Spike stood not far from the ring of Slayers, staring at his girl.

Buffy turned and meet his gaze again, silent and still. The Slayers began to shift, asking for more orders, gathering the wounded. She knew Willow, Xander, and even Faith were all there among the girls.

Let them deal.

“Buffy?” A voice tried to call to her. She didn’t respond.

All she could see was him, beaten and bloody, gazing back at her. Everything … everything was good. On her cheeks, tears mingled with the rain.

She ran for him. He caught her as she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

~~~~~

Nothing, nothing is the world had ever compared to that moment. Spike felt as if he were dying again. Burning from the inside, soul positively glowing.

She was real, she was here, and she was kissing him. The kiss seemed to last for ever. After several second, Buffy’s tongue brushed against his lips and he opened his mouth, greedily tasting her. She moaned, and he felt her drop the scythe, which she had still been holding in one hand. When she tightened her arms around him, Spike pulled her up until she could wrap her legs around his waist. He held her there as they’re kiss continued, hands on her bottom, body moving against hers on every breath that she took.

~~~~~

A small part of her knew that the others must be shouting, Slayers may be hollering, but she honestly could not hear them. The moments stretched into days, then months, then years, and still they remained together.

Finally, the world seemed to come back to them. They stood in a corpse-strewn alley, rain pouring down on them. Slowly, he let her feet drop down to the pavement, but his arms remained clasped around her.

Tears continued to stream down Buffy’s cheeks as Spike leaned his forehead against hers.

“Hello cutie.”

A sound escaped her lips, part sob and part laugh. Spike laughed too, a real, genuine laugh, a sound she could not remember hearing often.

Buffy found her voice at last. “Hey.”

“Buffy!” A voice called out. The lovers turned to see Willow standing a fair distance away. The witch looked tired, her mouth set in a firm line. Buffy noticed her gaze tick to Spike and then back to her friend. “Hoo-ray! – and all … but we need to move.”

Buffy nodded slightly, then turned her attention back to Spike. “There’s so much I have to tell you,” she whispered, but her expression remained strong, a disbelieving smile still on her lips. Willow called to her again, this time sounding more urgent. “I know, Willow,” the Slayer snapped back. She faced Spike, took his hands in hers and pulled him towards the group of Slayers.

~~~~~

Willow was gathering her magick to her. The witch was stood in the middle of the Slayers, head bowed, eyes closed, her lips moving silently. Xander stood close by; he held his weapon – a semi-automatic – in front of him. His face was impassive as he stared at Spike. Faith’s expression was a mix of something akin to amusement and wariness. She nodded in Spike’s direction, a small smile on her features.

The air around him crackled, then shimmered. Electric fingers of blinding energy seemed to jump out of Willow’s very being, passing through her flesh, then growing to encompass the entire group, finally reaching out to blanket everyone in sheer white light.

Spike felt his feet leave the ground and his body shimmer, flicker, losing mass and then was drawn into a close space. The alley around them faded into an abyss. He was being pulled through a small space, but Buffy’s hands still held his tightly, until the area around him opened up again. His feet touched down on solid ground.

Buffy stood before him again, smiling as if nothing had happened. She gestured over her shoulder to the large, crowded hall they had landed in. “Welcome to the Watcher’s Council.”

~TBC~