Author's Chapter Notes:
OK, this is my first. The first chapter in my first story. How I came to write it?
Know those moments, when you watch an episode and just scream "don’t be so stupid!" In retrospect we are all cleverer. Some short pieces rewriting episodes where I cheat... I thought.

Then I ended up adding more, becoming obsessed with it. When I was nudged again and again by this story’s ‘mid-wife’ puddinhead, it evolved into a full fledged Season 6 Rewrite.
So, my endless thanks to puddinhead, who put up with the labor pains of a green writer and my second beta Passion4Spike who gave the chapter the final polishing.
Any more questions? Let’s go on a ride!

Oh, before I forget, the usual Disclaimer! (We all know the drill)
The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.
Doc grabbed the wooden box from the desk and threw it into the lit fireplace. Smoke curled around the dark, dry wood as it started to smolder in the crackling flames.



Spike tackled the old man in his effort to retrieve the container before it burnt to cinders. The bugger was quick, much quicker than he’d imagine from such a wizened guy. The creature’s long blue tongue shot out chameleon-like and pinned Xander to the wall. Damn the boy not to know when to duck.



After a forceful blow to the demons’ chin, Spike picked up the sword and pinned the toad to the rough, wooden floorboards like an insect on display. Dark blue slime oozed from the wound and the demon stopped struggling, eyes finally closing with a last vicious smirk.



Flames licked Spike’s fingers as he fished the already blackened box out of the fireplace. Faint tendrils of smoke rose from his blistered hands and he patted them against his jeans to stifle the emerging flamelets. No worries, Spike had taken worse when making his mad dashes during the daytime, but he thought he’d outgrown that whole ‘bursting into flames’ phase. A quick check of the box’s contents revealed a leather wrapped object and lots of papers and scrolls, most dry from age, but thankfully unharmed by the heat.



Xander closed the door with a bang. "That was kinda creepy. Did you see his tongue? I’ve never seen a demon like that. Icky, but at least he died easy. One Glory worshipper down for us."



"Bollocks!" Spike stopped in his tracks and turned. "Owe you one, whelp."



He thrust the box at Xander and walked back into the shop. With one heavy black boot placed on Doc’s chest, Spike pulled out the sword and raised it above his head. He came down with the weapon in a glittering arc, just as the demon opened his eyes again with a snarl. The blade neatly severed Doc’s head, sending it tumbling over the floor, splattering blue slime over Spike’s boots.



Xander watched in confusion as Spike retrieved the head and threw it into the fireplace. "What... Why?"



"It’s a Reptilian demon. When you wound him or cut his arm off, he just re-grows it. Can only be killed if you burn him... well bet 'is head will be enough." They both watched in silence as the head crackled and blackened in the flames.



"Nasty bit of a bugger could’ve warned Glory. Thank God your mouth kept running… with somethin’ useful for a change."



Xander scowled "Ey, watch it!"



With that, they headed back to the Magic Box to determine what it was they’d found in the demon’s posession.



~*~




Buffy cautiously opened the leather wrapped bundle. Inside was a dagger, with elaborate carvings, the serrated blade gleaming dark in the light of the Magic Box. “This can’t possibly be good. Giles, have you found anything about a big honking meat cutter in these notes the Tweedies left us?”



Giles looked up from his research with a confused expression. “Tweety? What…? Oh, yes the Council.” A slight smile tugged at his mouth. She could slay the English language at least as well as she did demons. “Let me check. Willow, where is the folder about the artifacts?”



While they rummaged through the papers, Buffy went over to where Spike was sitting on the steps to the balcony. “Let me take a look at that hand.”



“No need to fuss over me, luv. I’ll heal in no time. Just a small burn”.



Buffy snorted and held out her hand demandingly. “I will need everybody in mint condition, so don’t give me this I’m-a-tough-guy attitude.”



Spike cocked a brow at her, but held his hand out as she’d asked. Buffy examined the flaming red marks on his fingers tenderly. “A bit of burn salve will help them heal faster. Stay put.” As she went to fetch the first aid kit from the training room, she noticed Willow and Xander exchanging a puzzled look as she fussed over Spike’s injury. What was their problem?



Buffy took Spike’s blistered left hand into hers. It would need a generous amount of ointment and a bandage. His hand was large, with long slender fingers that seemed to never be still, always moving, fidgeting … well, that was unless he had them firmly tucked into his jeans pockets. How often had she watched him secretly, as he let his cigarette dance or spun a stake or just rubbed a finger lightly over his lips in thought? Buffy applied the salve deftly and wrapped the white cloth firmly over it, hoping that Spike would be alright to fight when the time came.



Giles pulled her attention back to the research table as he started to read out from some of the papers the Council had left. “Ah, here it is! Let me see…There is a rumor about some artifacts which were brought over by Glorificus’ followers when she was exiled from her home dimension…”



Giles stopped to scan the paper. “There is a short list of items, let me see… yes here it is. Item six is a sacrificial knife which is supposed to be used to cut out the beating heart of a victim during the New Moon worship of Glorificus. Since the knife was forged in her own dimension, it could also inflict damage on the hell god. It might even make her susceptible to mortal wounds.”



When Giles lifted his head, he was able to look at Buffy with hope in his eyes for the first time in weeks. “As I interpret this, we finally might have found an effective weapon against Glory.”



Buffy looked around the Magic Box at her friends. Xander and Willow seated, as usual, at the research table; Willow holding the hand of a moaning Tara who’d curled up in a chair nearby. Anya was behind the counter fiddling, also as usual, with her money.



And then there was Spike, sitting on the stairs, his bandaged hand resting on his knee. Why did it ring true for her to include him when she thought of her friends? The notion seemed … far-fetched, ludicrous even, after all the bad he’d done, but hadn’t he gradually sneaked over to the white side? Hadn’t he helped, even while kicking and screaming, fight more than one apocalypse? Hadn’t he protected Dawn against Glory, never claiming any reward?



Buffy sighed … truth be told, of all her allies, Spike was the strongest and he’d proven time and again, that he’d do anything to help her and protect Dawn… so yes, she was probably right to include him in the list of her friends. She scanned the room again, sensing a tangible change in the atmosphere, as if a draft of fresh spring air had lightened their spirits. At last she could feel the crushing weight lift from her heart... at last there was a thread of hope.



“So, we finally have something to kick Glory’s ass. It’s safe to assume that she’ll find some other way to use the Key; she hasn’t come this far, to just quit now.” Buffy refused to say ‘Dawn’. If she had to think about Dawn in the hands of the hell god, she might just shut down again. She couldn’t let herself think about how frightened her sister must be, what might be happening to Dawn at this very moment. Even if Glory couldn’t kill Dawn before the ritual, that doesn’t mean she couldn’t hurt her, threaten her, torture her… Stop it, right there. Concentrate on the mission. There is nothing else you can do just now.



Buffy forced her mind back to the battle strategy. “OK, so what do we know?” Buffy asked the assembled group, looking from one to the next for answers.



“The alignment of planets, which is the only time to open the portal, is tomorrow at midnight. This is also confirmed by the scrolls in the box, which leaves us with only one more day to prepare and find out, where the location is,” Giles pointed out.



“We need weapons for everyone; hell god’ll’ave the place swarmin’ with minions,” Spike added. “I won’t be able to help with the humans amongst ‘em … chip ‘n all,” he explained with a sigh.



Buffy nodded, even if part of Glory’s minions were nut-jobs, they were still dangerous and she had no idea how many there even were. “Spike, you’ll concentrate on the demons, the others take care of the humans, I’ll confront Glory. I have the dagger, but I have got to get near her in the first place to use it. Any suggestions?”



“I’ve been working on something,” Willow smiled shyly at Tara. “I think I’ve found some spell that will restore Tara’s mind, to reverse the process. That should weaken Glory… I hope.”



“Good, try it, Will. Even if it just revives Tara it will be enough.”



“Use the hammer!” piped up Anya from the counter.



Everybody stared at her and so she clarified. “The troll hammer! It’s the hammer of a troll god after all, so it should be able to hurt a hell god.” She looked around at the astonished faces. “What? Do you think my brain is only capable of counting money and thinking about the orgasms Xander can give me? Eleven hundred year old ex-demon here. Think I slept through all those years?” She snorted delicately and returned to the comfort of her money.



After some more discussions, they finally adjourned the meeting to get some rest. They would meet up the next day at sunset for the final preparations. Buffy left deep in thought, dreading her return to the empty house.



Rest? Whenever will she be able to finally get some rest? Maybe when Dawn was safely home again everything could return to normal… or for what passed for normal on the Hellmouth.



~*~




They hadn’t found any trace of Dawn or Glory during the next day. When Tara grew restless and started moaning and saying ‘need to be there’, Buffy decided to use her as a guide. It was risky, but their best chance. The Magic Box didn’t have enough weaponry for everyone, so Buffy left with Spike to fetch some more from her home.



Buffy stepped through the front door of her house. “You take the weapons from the chest. Swords and axes will do best for the minions. Maybe you can also find baseball bats or something. I don’t want the insane-os hurt, if I can help it, but we’ll have to keep them out of our way.”



When there was no movement behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see Spike still standing on the porch. She watched as emotions flickered over his expressive face. Shame, even desperation, but most of all, longing. He locked his gaze with hers and she froze under the intensity of his ice blue eyes. Like the earth can’t resist the gravity pull of the sun, she couldn’t resist taking a small step towards him.



She cleared her throat nervously and whispered, “Come on in, Spike.”



Eyes wide in wonder, like a child before a Christmas tree, he tentatively lifted his foot and stepped across the threshold. For a moment he stared at her, face alight with some emotion she could not, would not, think about just now. Now wasn’t the time. Later. Definitely later. After the fight – when… if they survived.



She turned to go up the stairs but stopped. “Keep Dawn alive, Spike. Above all else, look after her. Can you do this for me? I can’t bear to lose her. Not after mom… You’re the only one strong enough…” Her voice faltered and all she could do was to stare at him pleadingly.



“Until the end of the world. Even if that will be tonight,” he pledged



Buffy was halfway up the stairs when Spike’s quiet voice stopped her. “I know you'll never love me. I know that I'm a monster, but you treat me like a man, and that's...”



Spike held her gaze for what felt like an eternity. Buffy’s mind floated, suspended in a timeless void until he broke the spell. “Get your stuff, I'll be here.”



Rummaging through her weapons supply under her bed, Buffy felt horrible. They had expelled Spike from their home because he’d declared his love to her. Not only had she voted for it, her mom had agreed. Her mom, who only hours before that had chatted amiably with Spike in her kitchen. Her mom, who actually liked Spike. Ok, he’d completely messed up, with the chains and all, but that had been afterwards.



When they’d revoked Spike’s invitation, the only reason had been his feelings for her. Buffy’s simply felt embarrassed, that a monster, who could have no concept for true feelings, pleaded with her to be with him, to give him a chance. Her mom had gone along with it, probably because she didn’t want Buffy dating another vampire, but she’d never know her mom’s reasons for sure.



Whatever the motivation, it had been wrong. Had he been a normal boy from college she never would have just shut the door in his face. She could clearly remember his devastated expression. At the time she had been furious at him, but he must have known that he’d lost the invitation, not because of his idiotic behavior, but because she rejected his declaration of love. He had tried to apologize and she’d chosen to ignore him.



As these thoughts raced through her mind, she felt like the monster here. But this was no time to dwell on it. She put her foot down firmly and stamped her regret into the deepest recesses of her brain.



~*~




"Go! Get Dawn! Hurry up!" Buffy yelled at Spike, readying the troll hammer for the next blow as she fought Glory at the base of a tall, rickety structure that Tara had led them to.



Two, three steps at a time Spike rushed up the fragile tower, his coat flapping behind him. At the top he found Dawn, struggling against her restraints, bound at the end of a ramp what looked like a plank on a ship that traitors would be forced to walk towards their deaths.



"Spike! Help me!" Dawn begged as tears streamed down her face, red blotches discoloring her cheeks. "Oh God, Spike, get me out of here!" With deft fingers, Spike untied the knots and Dawn collapsed at his feet with a sob.



Spike knelt down and gently pulled her into a tender hug, rocking her. "It's ok, it's over, Niblet... we’re all here and we’ll get you home." He tried to soothe her, keeping his voice even and low. His worried eyes took in her cheap dress and dirty, tear-streaked face. At least he couldn't smell any blood on her.



"Ben…" she hiccupped, "Ben tried to get me out... but then he... it was so weird... he talked to himself and... Glory was there... and Ben... he dragged me back." The words were tumbling out, breathless and choking.



"Shhhh, we know, pet. Everything will be all right. No worries. Big sis is down there, beatin’ the crap out of that hell-bitch."



With a comforting pat on her back Spike detangled himself from Dawn’s grip. He could feel the tower vibrating and shifting under his feet. "Someone’s coming. Be quiet and hold on over there. Stay behind me. Let me see who it is and if it's safe to bring you down."



The structure rattled as Buffy stormed up the last steps to the platform. "Dawn! Oh God, Dawn! Are you ok?"



With a sigh Spike moved to the side as the sisters hugged each other desperately. His gaze lingered lovingly on his Summers women, pride and relief warming his unbeating heart.



Tears glittered in her hazel eyes as Buffy glanced over to him. "Thank you, Spike. Thank you for keeping her safe!"



"Made a promise to a lady, didn't I?"



She stared at him for a long while, then a small smile tugged at her lips. "Yes, that you did".



After guiding Dawn down the tower, they stopped at the body lying deserted on the ground. All the minions had fled when the dagger pierced Glory’s heart, turning the shrieking hell god into her human vessel. A look of surprise at the handle sticking out of his chest was all the reaction Ben was capable of before he’d sunk to the ground. It was sort of anti-climatic, seeing the lone human figure who’d taken Dawn from them. Who’d willingly led the god toward her victim... to her Key.



Buffy looked at her exhausted group of warriors gathered around the base of the tower. “Tomorrow night we’re going Bronzing to celebrate. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is invited. You too, Dawn.”



“What about Spike?” Dawn asked, looking at her blond hero with a dreamy gaze.



“Well now, if Evil Dead is coming…” Xander began to protest, but Buffy cut him off.



"He deserves it. We fought together, we won together, and we’ll celebrate together".






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