Prague 2002

Standing in the aisle of the run down theatre, Buffy faced her enemies. Angelus was centre stage, typical of the egomaniac,

Drusilla to his left. Drusilla clearly disconcerted with Buffy’s arrival, clutched the Codex to her breast.

Spike was to the left of Angelus. When Buffy spared him a glance, her seditious heart skipped a beat, doubt started to creep its way into her mind.

When their eyes met images of deceitful lovers entwined in a passionate embrace flashed behind her eyes. Her mutinous mind reminding her why she was here. Her anger returned and the odium she felt for them now at boiling point.

Buffy could feel the cold metal of her pistol tucked into the back of her wet pants, a simple reminder to her that it was there. Buffy found comfort in its cold caress. The kind of comfort most people got from a lover’s embrace, or the supportive smile and absolute trust you find in a life long friend.

The cold metal pressed intimately against her bare skin was like a trusted friend, it was all she needed in a time like this.

She could hear Angelus droning on, his voice a mere buzzing in her ears, insignificant. Her mind focused on two things; the blonde man staring at her and the Codex wrapped in Drusilla’s twisted fingers.

Spike stared at the sight before him. She was soaked through; he had no doubt that she had run all the way here in the rain. He could see the drops of water coursing their way down her body, leaving glimmering tracks in their wake.

Her black leather pants and a red singlet clung desperately to her body. He saw the rise and fall of her chest as she heaved in angry breaths.

Buffy stared at him rage and revenge glittered gold in her emerald eyes. Beneath the stray tendrils of wet hair that clung to her face, he saw the promise of a punishment worse than death in her icy glare.
When her thinned lips split into a wide grin he swallowed hard, the poison in her smile sent chills along his spine. He had never seen her so pissed off.

In her peripheral vision, Buffy saw Drusilla trying to side step off the stage. Keeping her eyes locked with Spikes’ Buffy pulled her weapon from its resting place aiming it at Drusilla.

‘Move an inch and I will shot you Dogzilla’ the barely contained wrath in Buffy’s voice was not lost on the maniac. Drusilla froze in her place.

Angelus’ voice finally broke through the haze ‘Looky looky my little girls all grown up.’

He mocked in that really annoying condescending tone that he loved to use with women.

‘I will never be your girl.’ She ground out between clenched teeth.
He placed a hand over his heart. ‘You wound me lover.’

The sound of the gun being cocked echoed through the stillness of the theater. Drusilla turned wild eyes to Angelus

‘No Daddy the sunshine she can make it all bright, Bam! Flash! Too bright, too bright the light and we will burn.’

Angelus turned to Drusilla; he ran a long creepy finger along the length of her jawbone following the line down along her neck and into the crevice of her breasts. He licked his lips in anticipation.

‘She doesn’t have the balls to do it. Besides, ole’ Spike here will tame her if needed, that’s what we pay him for.’

Drusilla shuddered at Angelus’ touch; she locked eyes with the bleach-blond

‘Our William filled the sunshine with lies, pretty lies. Sweet Willy likes to play pretend, only sometimes he forgets who he is playing with.’

Drusilla spun in a tight circle, her insane giggles filling the theater. It was as though she had stepped out of the pages of an Insano’s R Us journal.

Angelus lips split into a malicious grin.

‘It was just the fun-est to watch the whole drama play out? Will my boy you have done me proud.’

Spike took a bow. It was as if he had just spoken the final words of an untold Shakespeare play to the masses, and the curtain was falling on a roaring crowd.

In an instant Buffy felt claustrophobic, the massive theater walls felt like they were closing in on her. Her vision tilted and her world spun, the last few months had been nothing more than a twisted melodrama played out for her benefit.

A play in which she was supposed to be the leading lady, but had never been given the script. How was she supposed to play the part without a script?

Her already breaking heart shattered. She was merely a game to him, a new part for him to play, the role of lover and confidant. He played it well, too well. Anger boiled in Buffy’s veins, rage filled her. All rational thought fled her mind. What happened next played out in slow motion.

Buffy pulled the trigger, a bullet whizzed through the air past Angelus hitting the side of his face ripping his cheek open to expose his jaw, lodging its self in the wall behind them. Drusilla dropped the Codexand fell to Angelus’ side. Her panic filled screams were no more than a muffled sound in the ringing in Buffy’s ears.

Buffy marched over to Drusilla; pistol-whipped her, effectually knocking her out. She bent down and snatched up the Codex when she stood she was face to face with Spike. The ex-lovers faced each other a thousand word spoken in a single look.

Buffy had the Codex gripped in her left hand and the gun in her right, aimed between Spikes eyes, her heart hammered in her chest, and her hands began to shake.

She wanted to shut the world out and forget for a moment the lies and deception. The misplaced trust and heart break. She wanted to get lost in the solace and warmth of her bed and let the tears she had denied fall freely.

However, more than anything else, she wanted to loose her self in Spike. She wanted to forgive him. Because no matter how much she struggled against it, she loved him, and he hurt her. She hated herself for letting it happen. She hated him for doing it to her. God she hated him because even now, after every thing, she still loved him.

The weight of the Codex in her hand reminded her of the mission. She sucked in a deep breath to steady her emotions. She prepared herself to make the ultimate sacrifice for the mission. Her mind now focused. She set her steely eyes on her enemy.

Spike stared deep into Buffy’s eyes he could read the heartbreak she tried to hide, he could see the tears she refused to let fall. Even with her world, crumbling down around her she stood strong and fearless.

She was passionate and unassailable, fragile, and vulnerable all at once. She was a warrior with a lover’s heart. An emotion deep with in the confines of his hardened heart stirred.

The desire to feel her silky skin beneath his fingers was too much for him to deny. As one lover would blindly reach out a comforting hand to their other, just as they had done countless times before, Spike reached out to her. Buffy flinched and pulled back.

That small gesture told Spike more than any word she could have uttered; it was over, they were finished. The impact of her reaction came with an onslaught of emotions His world spun almost off its axis and then came to a screaming halt. His legs felt like lead and jelly all at once. His heart stopped dead, his breath hitched.

The words “never again” echoed in his screaming mind, drowning out all other thoughts.

He would never see her smile again; never have her laughter warm his heart again; she would never loose herself in him again.

His once dead heart jerked to life. He could feel it pounding so hard against his rib cage as it hammered a frantic tune in his chest. He was in love with her.

The unyielding look of heartache in her eyes told him it was too little too late. Sadness filled his eyes, unshed tears shone in them making the blue a little brighter.

‘Buffy’ his voice thick as he tried to convey everything he needed to say with one word.

His voice washed over her, it would be the last time she would hear her name said like that. A solitary tear cut a path down her cheek she let it fall. It was the last one she would ever cry for him. A silent vow slipped through her lips.

The words “never again” echoed through her mind. She knew what she had to do. A deadly calm fell over her.

She cocked her gun.

Present day, 2007

Some where in the Mexican jungle.

The word hot didn’t even begin to cover how Buffy felt right now. The humidity was 98% and the temperature she guessed, was somewhere near the temperatures they get in the pits of hell.

She lay on her bed, the cotton sheet clinging to her naked body. An irritated sigh slipped from her parched lips. Sleep was not coming for her tonight.

She finally conceded defeat and threw off her sheet ‘Gah! Stupid net’ she complained. She fought with the tangled mosquito net that hung loosely around her bed as it wrapped itself around her in a desperate effort to keep her in its falsely protective embrace.

Finally free of the mischievous net Buffy tied a sarong around her body as she walked over to the small table in the middle of her room. She stared down at the table littered with maps, photos, and other things she might need, a compass, a hunting knife and her favorite weapon.

A heavy sigh escaped her dry lips. She poured a scotch on ice and started all over again. Rolling out the maps, she studied them until the lines blurred. Mentally she went through every possible scenario; playing out every step in her minds eye, perfecting her plan of attack. She memorized every way out possible.



In a village, a few miles from where the blonde woman restlessly paced about, lay a man. His arm wrapped behind his head, a satisfied smirk twisting around the cigarette that rested in between his lips.

From his place on the bed, he watched a bronze beauty roam around his room searching for her clothes. He delighted in the way her full breasts wobbled with each step.

He silently admired the way her long dark locks swayed as she huffed about the room mumbling incoherent words in a language he couldn’t be bothered to learn.

Once she was dressed, she threw him the look. He knew that look in any language; universally it said “ASSHOLE.” Then in a huff of indignation, she stormed from his room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once she was gone, he stubbed out his smoke, rolled onto his side, and opened the bedside table. He fumbled with the false bottom wrenching it loose. He pulled out a small bundle of animal skin.

Delicately he unrolled the skin to study the map artistically carved into it eons ago. Grinning to himself, he tucked the map back into its hiding place and went to sleep.



Buffy had left the safety of her room hours before then sun showed its face. She wanted to get in and out as soon a possible. The chances of coming face to face with the competition were very real. She knew first hand that in this line of work there was always someone out there prepared to stab you in the back for the bounty, literally.

After trekking for hours, she found what she had been looking for, an entrance to a small cave

Once inside using her torch to cut a path through the darkness, she wound her way down into the belly of the cave. There in the middle of a cavern was her bounty.

A stream of sunlight had pushed its way past the rocks above and shone down on the trinket. Wonderment filled her, as it seemed to glow in her presence. Slowly she walked towards the Gem of Amara, her hand reaching for it.

Buffy nearly jumped out of her own skin when she heard a sound that made her heart stop and her stomach sink.

‘Hello cutie’

She spun to face the intruder. ‘Spike’ she spat out his name, it tasted like poison on her lips.

There he was in all his glory. Not a stitch different from the last time she laid eyes on him, dressed head to toe in black, from his scuffed black doc Martins and black jeans down to his black t shirt.

Don’t forget the black leather duster. The way it billowed around him when he walked reminded her of a super hero she had seen once in a comic book.

His notorious blonde locks were slicked back with gel. Her eyes finally landed on the one face she wished she would never have to see again.
If she lived to the ripe old age of forever, it would be too soon.

Spike tilted his head slightly to the left as his eyes trailed appreciatively along her body. Standing there in a black singlet, camouflage cargo pants, combat boots, pistol holster, and her long blonde hair tied in a pony at the top of her head, to him, she was the personification of pure beauty.

‘Now is that the way to greet an old friend?’

‘You’re not my friend Spike’

He placed a hand over his chest as though she had staked him in the heart.
‘You wound me Buffy’

His deep English accent and the way her name rolled off his tongue gave her goose bumps; she let her eyes flutter closed as his voice washed over her.

The sensation of the air changing around her had Buffy blinking out of her reverie. She saw a black and white blur of movement and then he was standing across from her. The bounty was between them. Just out of either hunters reach.

They stared at each other, rage on her face, and amusement on his. Dismissing her presence he went to snatch up the ring; the sound of a pistol pulled from its holster stopped him. He looked up to see her weapon aimed right between his eyes.

‘Well luv; looks like you’re finally back in the game then?’ he quirked his eyebrow and gave her his best bombastic grin.

He wasn’t too worried about the gun aimed at his head. He knew she wasn’t a straight shot. He was witness one night; too many years ago to her taking a shot at Angelus; poor bastard wears the scars to prove it.

‘Yeah I am, back and better then ever.’ She mirrored his expression.

His tongue curl-ed behind his teeth just the way he knew she loved as he ran his eyes suggestively along her body. She was not the shapeless young girl he saw last.
Her hips were curvy; her breasts were slightly fuller. She looked…older…more…womanly.

‘I noticed’

Buffy shivered under his heated gaze ‘Shut up Spike’ she cringed inwardly at her lack of witty comeback.

‘So what’s it been three years?’ he asked trying to distract her from the ring.

‘Not long enough.’

Once again, he tried for the ring, stepping ever so slightly towards it. However, the sound of her cocking her gun as it echoed off the walls around them had him second-guessing his plan.

Lack of great shooting history not withstanding; it was the look of fire in her eyes alone made him balk. She was pissed off enough at him that she would take a shot at him “just for the fun of it” . So in the interest of self-preservation, he obeyed her silent warning.

‘You know I’m not going to let you take that ring.’ she said with deadly intent.

‘Is that right? What are you going to do? Shoot me?’ Sarcasm clearly evident his tone.

‘If I have to’ the quiver of emotion in her voice shattered any threat she may have been to him.

He saw the shake of her hand; her confidence was slipping .

‘I don’t think you have the balls Summers.’

Cockily he reached for the ring.

She knew those words intimately, Angelus her one time lover had said those very words to her. Memories from a lifetime ago flashed in her mind and with them came a whispered promise she had made. “Never again” A shot rang out in the cave. Grim satisfaction filling her, as his body fell to the ground with a thud.

In a flurry of movement, Buffy holstered her gun, grabbed the Gem of Amara put it in a small black velvet bag; tying the cord in a knot, she tucked the bag in her sports bra.

A rumble from deep in the cave signaled that it was going to close in on them any time soon. She looked down at the lifeless body on the ground and cursed the gods; with a roll of her eyes, she heaved him onto her shoulder.

Slowly she made her way out of the cave. When she reached day light she unceremoniously dumped the body she had been carrying on the ground. She looked to a few of the villagers and asked. ‘Medico?’

As the car wound its way along her driveway and her home came into view Buffy let out a breath she had not known she was holding.

‘Home sweet home’

She remembered the day her parents told her they were moving to England.

God had it been 12 years already.

She reacted like the typical 15 year old girl from LA she was. Moving to a small country town in England’s north was not her idea of fun. She protested, she pouted, she stomped, she even went on a hunger strike, that lasted all of 35 minutes, until her mother pulled her own form of bribery; choc-fudge-mint ice cream, from the freezer.

As the car rolled to a stop, she looked up at the window where she knew he would be sitting ever so patiently waiting for her arrival.

It had been ten days since she saw him last and that was eleven days too long for her. She missed him so much that it caused an actual physical ache in her heart.

Rick, her driver opened the car door tipping his hat in respect as she climbed from the car.

‘Welcome home Miss Buffy’

She gave him a soft smile. ‘It’s good to be home Rick.’

He nodded his response then hurried to the boot of the car and gathered her bags. He followed her along the path and then up the stone stairs that led to the huge double oak doors that framed the entrance to her home.

As she reached the top the doors swung open, Andrew her ever-faithful confidant, and servant greeted her. With his smile, she became lost in more memories.

The Wells family had been working for the Summers’ for as long as Buffy could remember. Her childhood was full of memories of playing with Andrew in the back yard and swimming pool.

When she was at the tender age of six, she stole her first secret kiss from him in the garden. Andrew wiped her lips from his mouth burst into tears and ran away from her. When he was 13, over a bowl of ice cream he confided in her that he was gay.

When her parents Hank and Joyce died in an accident, Andrew’s parents George and Alice stayed on, they were the only other parental figures the girls knew.

When Buffy turned legal age, Alice and George retired. It was then Andrew stepped in to take their place in the Summers home.

‘Glad to have you back’

Andrew offered as she walked back into her home.

‘Master James is in his room, I’ll let him know of your arrival.’

Buffy gave him a beaming smile that let him know that she was thankful and glad to be home.

Lost in the nostalgia that this day seemed to be dishing out to her Buffy was caught unawares by the familiar sound of heals clicking on the marbled floors. She looked towards the sound and saw her sister coming from the main dining hall.

Buffy wrapped her sister up in a tight embrace ‘Dawn honey what are you doing here?’

‘Can’t a girl come and visit her sister?’

Buffy looked at Dawn with a stern motherly look and simply said,

‘No.’ after a beat she added ‘what’s wrong?’

Before Dawn could fill elder sister in on her latest heartbreak, Buffy had pulled from her sister as she heard the sweetest sound ever.

‘Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!’

She looked up towards the stairs to see a small blonde ball of love and energy come barreling towards her. Scooping him up into her arms, she held on tightly to the four-year-old boy that held her heart. She covered him in kisses as he giggled.

‘I missed you so much sweetie’

‘I missed you too mommy’ he giggled again as he was covered in sloppy mommy kisses.

‘Hey Buffy’ came another familiar voice.

Buffy looked up and saw her best friend Willow standing there with a huge smile plastered on her lips. her long red hair was balled in a messy bun on the top of her head, a few pens poked out of the top.

She was wearing a long dress that brushed the floor as she walked. To Buffy, she looked like a child of mother earth. Natural in her beauty she exhumed a peaceful and harmonious air about her.

Buffy's attention then fell to the man standing next to her; he was a living contradiction to the woman beside him. He had a black patch over his left eye; there was visible scaring surrounding the patch.

He was wearing a beaten leather jacket teamed with leather pants and a T-Shirt. He screamed danger, but Buffy knew other wise.

Buffy looked over to Dawn and then down to James.

‘Honey mommy needs to talk to Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander, can you go with Aunty Dawn and show her your new fire truck.’

The little boy turned on his brightest smile, nodded and then skipped off to his playroom, his aunty hot on his heels.

When James and Dawn were out of sight Buffy turned to her friends. Her heart ached with guilt when she looked at Xander. She really wished she could undo so many things in her life. What happened with Xander was one of them.

He raised his patched eye at her ‘did you get it?’

Buffy offered him a cheeky smile ‘What do you reckon?’ she pulled a small velvet bag from her person and tossed it to him.



Spike woke with a searing pain in his chest. He gave a groan of discomfort and winced as he tried to sit up. Giving up he rolled over and covered his head with the blankets.

The familiar sound of someone in his room made him pull them back down and reluctantly face the day.

Rupert Giles, his butler set down Spikes tray and then opened the curtains. Giles was the closest thing to a father figure that William ever had.

His mother Anne never remarried when his father died. He was a mere babe, too young to remember him at all.

William always thought that Rupert and his mother harbored feelings for each other, but never reacted on them. It wasn’t until his mother died of lung cancer when he was 19 did he learn the truth.

They had been having an affair since he was small boy. Giles thought that William would hate him for keeping this secret. However, William wrapped the man in a warm embrace

‘You made her happy that’s all I care about’. In that moment an unbreakable bond was formed.



‘How long have I been out?’ Spike asked groggily as he brushed the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

‘Two days’ was all the old man said as he handed Spike a glass of juice and pain killers. Taking the pre-offered pills Spike swallowed them down.

Slowly he climbed from the warmth and comfort of his over sized bed.
He padded his way across the polished floor to a full-length mirror; he stared intently at the reflection.

There glaring back at him was the pale face of a stranger. His left shoulder wore a bullet wound just above his heart.

‘The doctor said you were lucky. Any lower and you would have been dead.’

Giles commented as Spike peeled back the gauze to inspect the damage.

Lightly fingering the stitches, he said dryly ‘Nah I’m just lucky she’s a bad shot.’

When Giles looked at Spike over his round wire rimmed glasses, Spike answered the unasked question.
‘Buffy’

Knowing that Spike would not elaborate on what he just said or on what happened while he was away, he simply let the subject drop.

After Giles helped Spike to pull on his silk robe, he announced ‘the girls are here to see you’

Spike nodded to let the old man know he heard. Then followed Giles to the kitchen where his guests were waiting for him.

‘Mornin’ Spike acknowledged the girls with a smile and a nod ‘Glinda, Anya.’

The girls looked up from their breakfast to see Spike stride into the kitchen; he was wearing a pair of long black silk pajama pants, sans shirt and matching robe, the robe danced about his feet as he walked, a grin played at the corner of his mouth.

Tara offered him a warm smile and set about making herself and Spike a cup of tea; Anya continued to eat her eggs.

When all were seated at the table, Anya looked at Spike. After her initial reaction of panic to the news of Spike being hurt, she had the last two days to calm her nerves. Now seeing him sitting here as if nothing happened pissed her off.

‘So are you going tell us what happened or are we going play a game of 20 questions?’

Anya was brash, rude abrupt, very blonde sometimes, extremely intelligent. She was the smart one always working out problems.

Spike glared at her ‘got shot’ was all he said then stuffed a piece of French toast into his mouth.

‘Buffy’.

Giles said from behind the kitchen bench, answering the question that was on all their lips.

Anya and Tara shared a look. They knew part of the history between Spike and Buffy; none of it had a happy ending. Wherever Buffy was involved, it always meant a cranky Spike, which always equaled trouble.

‘So did you get the Gem or not?’ Tara gently probed.

Now Tara she was sweet, caring, and gay and all the Tara things like the sister he never had. She gave him hope in love and life.

‘Stupid bitch shot me before I got the chance’

Without looking up from her plate, Anya snapped ‘Well we need to get it.’

‘I know that Anya’ Spike bickered back, stabbing the eggs on his plate violently; taking his frustration out on his breakfast.

‘What are you going to do about it?’ Anya demanded.

‘Don’t rightly know, now do I? You want me to walk up to her and say give me the Gem of the Amara’ irritation evident in his voice.

When he heard a not so subtle cough, He turned to look at his best friend.

Tara raised a brow at him in the same way his mother did when as a child he was lacking in manners. ‘Please’ he added rather sarcastically

‘There is a Black and White charity ball this coming Saturday that you are invited to William. Perhaps Miss Summers is attending?’ Giles offered.

Spike raised his scared brow at Giles a sly smile forming on his lips as a plan hatched in his mischievous mind.