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“I wanna save the world.”

Can you believe this guy? All oozing sex appeal, jutting hips and wolfy smirk like he’s God’s gift, or something! As if! Satan’s gift maybe but I’m pretty sure the other side isn’t hanging any banners for him.

“Okay. You do remember you’re a vampire, right?”

And off he goes. Does he ever shut up? Like I care about what he has to say anyway. Evil dead thing! So not going to make I Love the 90s - 1998. . .especially with that hair.

“. . . see what I’m saying?”

Huh? “Uh, sort of?”

“Why don’t you put that stake down?”

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen! Do I look like I’m in the market for a bridge? Nasty bloodsucking fiend wants to have a powwow . . . don’t think that comes up very often. Does it ever? He’s probably just yanking my chain until he can catch me off guard. He’s gonna have to be pretty convincing when he explains why he’s calling this little confab.

I tell him so.

“I want Dru back. I want it like it was, before he came back. The way she acts around him. . ."

Oh gross! It’s time to get the hitting started. That’s my favorite part anyway. I call him pathetic and we’re off! Can you believe this guy? Giles is missing. Willow’s unconscious and possibly comatose. Kendra...oh Kendra! Who cares if Dru’s a big ho. Of course it bugs me that she’s being that big ho with my formerly souled former boyfriend but I’m above letting that bother me. Obviously taste in women comes with a soul. Who knew?

Spike is right, though. He’s all I’ve got and right now I need him.

~~~~~

Can’t believe I’m doing this. Sitting in the Slayer’s living room like I’ve come calling; waiting for the over protective parental unit to give me the third degree. Oh how the big bad has come down in the world.

She’s a comely one, though. Can see where the Slayer gets her looks. Not her moves, though. They’re pure predator. The way she fights. The way she walks. The way she dances. Swaying. . .Writhing. . .Thrusting. . .Glistening. . .Glowing. . .Eff. . .

Balls! Let’s hope the coat is pulled forward enough. Don’t wanna give Momma Slayer a coronary.

I’m gonna kill Dru for putting me through this. I’m making deals with the bloody Enemy for pity sake! That’s just wrong on levels I don’t wanna contemplate. After a hundred years you’d think I’d have earned a bit of respect. But no! Bloody Daddy shows up and a century of fidelity and trust is right out the window. Makes me wonder why I bother.

Why DO I bother?

It’s not as if Dru’s a font of deep meaningful conversation and solicitous companionship. On a good day she sounds like the dialog of a movie that’s been translated into Japanese and then back to English.

She needs me, though, or at least she did until precious Angelus showed up again. Doesn’t matter. She’s my destiny and I’m hers. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Right?

. . . Right?

~~~~~

As I hang up the phone, after saying goodbye to Xander, a wave of disorientation hits me and I have to stop and think before I can remember what comes next. I’ve been getting these feelings since the day after my birthday; the day I stole my lover’s soul and turned him evil. This can’t be happening. Sure, guys don’t call after sex but they don’t become psychotic, murderous, soulless, stalking, blood-sucking fiends. Not really. Maybe in movies or on a weird teenage television soap opera but it doesn’t happen to actual people.

Then again I wasn’t dating a people, was I?

It occurs to me that I left my mother with one of those blood-sucking fiends and I run into the living room intent on saving her. Another wave of disorientation threatens when I realize they’re having a conversation about Mom’s art gallery. I think my brain shuts down for a moment before I realize my mom’s asking me about Willow.

As I answer her I realize that if I don’t get this show on the road I’m gonna turn into a drooling lunatic so I concentrate on working out the details of my pact with Spike.

~~~~~

There aren’t enough words in the mother tongue to describe how much I hate this cursed wheelchair. It’s a symbol of my inability to defeat the Slayer; a tiny chit of a girl no bigger than my thumb. It helps to know that she killed Darla’s beloved Master but I always felt I was better than him, anyway. I’m certainly better than Dru’s Neanderthal Sire and look how bent she makes him. At least I’ve never fallen for a Slayer. That’s gotta be the worst. Being a vamp and knowing you’ve fallen in love with the bloody personification of wholesomeness, goodness and light. At times I almost feel sorry for the sod.

Well, maybe not.

“You cut him up you’ll never get your answers.”

I didn’t want to play this card so soon but Angelus has never been the patient sort. Dru will pull all the answers out of the Watchers head in less time than it will take me to grab a smoke and then what am I gonna do to stall the ceremony until the Slayer arrives. She better get here soon. Sure I can keep the Council boy alive, maybe not in one piece, but that’s no good if the world’s gone to hell in a basket full of kittens, now is it?

God he’s a mess.

There’s blood everywhere, the way he breathes makes it obvious that he’s got a few cracked ribs and I’m pretty sure his days as a concert pianist are over. I hope the Slayer doesn’t demand a discount for damaged goods. I know how he feels. I’ve been in his shoes more than I care to contemplate. Angelus considers himself an artist and artists need to practice, now don’t they?

Slayer better get here soon or we're all toast.

~~~~~

“What did you mean, "the sword isn't enough"?”

“You know, raiding an Englishman's fridge is like dating a nun. You're never gonna get the good stuff.”

“Tell me how to use it.”

“Angel's the key. His blood will open the door to Hell. Acathla opens his big mouth, creates the vortex, then only Angel's blood'll close it. One blow. Send 'em both back to hell. But I strongly suggest you get there before that happens. The faster you kill Angel, the easier it'll be for you. At least that’s the way it’s supposed to happen.”

“What do you mean by “supposed to” For a mysterious Hipster Nostradamus you sound awfully unsure of yourself. Gotta say, not all that impressed.”

“A wildcard’s been thrown into the mix. Everything was clearly gonna happen a certain way until just recently when the future suddenly got cloudy. That’s why I’m here, kid. To try to make sure everything goes according to plan.”

“Yeah, but whose plan?”

"Well now, that's the question, isn't it?"






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