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CHAPTER 1 -- Part 1

The minions gathered around their God in her rose red mini that clung to her curvaceous figure. She lay stretched out across her plush bed, her head propped up in an expertly manicured hand. She was pouting her ruby lips as her minions spoke:

“Not only will the Slayer and her friends not give up easily, Your Godliness, whomever the Key is, Most Noble One . . . they won’t come silently.”

Her Godliness sat up, throwing her wavy locks off her shoulders, “Well . . . I didn’t exactly think it would take this long to acquire my Key, so take this.” She slid off the wine silk sheets, retrieving a box from a wooden shelf, throwing a crossbow at one of her minions in the process. She opened the box to reveal a gold arrow with a gleaming sharp tip. She gingerly caressed it, picked it up, and loaded it into the crossbow.

“With this lodged into their heart, it not only should slow down my Key enough for you halfwits to grab it and bring it to me, it will only keep them alive for mere days, unless they get the antidote.” The gentle soothingness in her voice vanished. Her gaze turned to a glare. “So if you idiots screw this up again . . .” The woman’s hardness again faded as she collected herself. The softness returned, “The poor sap will still have to come to me if they wish to continue living. Because I am the only one who holds the little gold bottle.” The vial suddenly appeared in her palm, shining.

Now with their mission, her henchman turned and began to file out of the room.

“Oh, and boys. . .” they turned to adhere to their queen, “This is your only shot.” She waver her hand in the general direction of the new weapon, “Those gold thingies don’t come cheap.”

________________________________________

The gang was sitting around, gathered at the Magic Shop at the wooden circular table -- waiting. Xander, ever the pessimist, was the first to gripe:

“Why are we waiting? We should have been gone on patrol long ago.” As Xander finished his sentence, the bell rung out and the door burst open. Buffy, followed by Spike, hurried through the threshold.

Xander stood up, “Could ya be a little bit later?”

“Sorry, my watch stopped working back in 1925,” Spike snapped.

Xander, beaten by the fact that Spike was alive during the invention of the wrist watch, closed his mouth.

Buffy, already having wasted too much time as is, interrupted them, “OK, let’s get going.”

Spike, still smirking over his winning verbal battle, spoke up, “Yeah, let’s go kill some nasties.”

Buffy, already reaching for the doorknob, stopped, “Oh, no. You’re not coming. You’re on babysitting duty.”

Spike’s smirk faded, “I’m what?” The smile transferred to Xander.

Giles never thought he would do this, but he found himself uttering some words in Spike‘s defense, “But Buffy, don’t you think Spike could be of help to us?

She shook her head, “I don’t care- he’s not coming.”

Spike was not done yet, “You’re telling’ me Harris here gets to go kill things and I have to . . . Baby-sit?” he spat.

“Well I don’t like you either,” it was Dawn. She had been slouched down in a chair listening the whole time.

Spike turned to the younger Summers, “No, Bit, it’s not you . . .” Spike tried to redeem himself.

This was better for Xander than any verbal sparring match with Spike. Buffy had picked him over Spike -- “The Big Bad”, “William the Bloddy”, “The. . . .” Buffy and Spike were going to go at it -- they just had to.

Much to his dismay, Buffy calmly continued. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Xander looked on as Buffy pulled Spike into a darkened corner of the store where no one could hear what they were whispering. He didn’t know exactly what it was, maybe the way they were looking at each other, the glazing tenderness in Spike’s eyes, the disturbingly closeness they were standing in, or how they were giving each other their undivided attention, made him nauseous. Buffy would never . . . Would she? No, it was Spike, a blood sucking thing that killed people. Well, he used to anyway . . . Different now with the chip. Had been for some time. But that didn’t change anything. She only kept him around as another pair of fists, and he only listened because she would dust him if he didn’t. Xander nodded in satisfaction at his reached conclusion.

Buffy addressed Spike in a grave tone, “Spike, I need you to watch Dawn.”

“The boy can’t do it?” Spike gestured to Xander who, he noticed, was staring intently at them from across the room.

Buffy pursed her lips and sighed, looking for the right words. “I know you can handle anything that might try to harm her.”

Spike started at her words, “Buffy, I wouldn’t let anything touch her, you know that.”

“That’s why I need you to stay with her. She’s scared, I’m scared. I need someone strong enough to protect her.”

Spike was taken aback by her last comment. She thought that, besides herself, he was the best one for her lil’ sis’. The added responsibility hit him hard. Buffy’s endless eyes pleaded into his. It didn’t take much, but Spike tried to resist a little bit, just to keep his dignity. Spike had the feeling that she would always have this unexplained power over him.

“Right then,” agreed Spike, nodding.

Minutes later, from the doorway, Spike and Dawn watched together as the gang filed out of the Magic Box, venturing out into the exciting darkness, “Stinks being left out doesn’t it?” Dawn stated dully.

Spike sighed as he closed and locked the door, “Yeah.”


Cont . . .





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