He leaned over the railing and watched the moonlight shimmering on the water below. Several years had passed since he’d last been on a ship, but you would never know it. He still looked the same; would never age, much like the ocean below. But inside he felt old. Weary. He thought he’d done his bit for the world, but the world wasn’t done with him.

Sighing, the man contemplated the unlit cigarette in his left hand. He hadn’t smoked much since the soul, and it was difficult to find a place to light up anymore. Bloody health-nuts had taken over and kicked all the nicotine addicts out of public places everywhere. He could light up now, if he wanted to, even if he wasn’t on the tiny piece of deck reserved for smokers. He was his own vamp now, chip-free and balls reclaimed. He could rip the throat out of anyone who tried to stop him from smoking anywhere he pleased. He wouldn’t, of course, but he could.

Not that he’d do anything to jeopardize his journey at this point. All he knew was that she was in Europe. Would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but she was the Slayer, after all, and liable to make some kind of a noise wherever she was. So he put the fag back in his duster pocket and contemplated sitting in a deck chair for awhile, but the buxom brunette with too much everything (hair, make-up, and perfume) was making come-fuck-me faces at him and he wanted to get away from her.

Although he desperately wanted to sink into a warm, willing, body, he couldn’t, not after the fiasco with Harmony back in the office. He still wasn’t sure what came over him; at least he didn’t want to admit it. He’d just needed to touch someone, and be touched in return. After all those weeks of being non-corporeal he needed something to make it real. To know he existed after all. Harmony hadn’t been a bad fuck; she was good enough for him years before, but even in her crazed-induced fever she’d hit the nail on the head; she was just a poor substitute for who he really wanted.

So here he was, making his way slowly to Europe. He couldn’t fly, so he was doing it the old-fashioned way; sailing on a ship down the coast to Central America, through the Panama Canal, then up the Atlantic and through the Strait of Gibraltar, which would take him into the Mediterranean and onto France. He’d thought about heading to Merry Olde first, look up the Watcher in Bath, but when Angel said she was in Europe, he was sure she’d be in France. She’d talked about it before, when they still talked; even had a bit of high school French. She wanted to see Paris, take in the fashions, passions, and culture. So it would stand to reason that’s where she’d be.

He’d been there, knew which demons to contact for information, and felt comfortable starting his search there. A small part of him wished he’d asked Angel for her exact whereabouts, but he didn’t want to give that pillock the satisfaction of seeing him beg for that scrap of information. Besides, maybe Buffy would be impressed that he looked so hard for her.

So he went back inside and found the laid-back bar where it was dark and the music was real, found a table for one in the corner and prepared to drink away another night.

^^^^^^^

WOLFRAM & HART – Los Angeles

Angel stared at the pink memo paper in his hand. The number for Rupert Giles at his estate in Bath was neatly printed in Wes’ precise handwriting. He knew the Watcher wouldn’t want to hear from him; that much had been made clear when what was left of the Sunnydale contingent pulled up outside the Hyperion while his team was clearing out. He’d tried to explain why he took the job at the law office, but Buffy and Rupert couldn’t see past the “demon” and “evil” labels the Senior Powers had cultivated.

His one ally, Faith, had been at the hospital with her new man, and Fred had as much luck as he’d had with Buffy and Giles, trying to convince Willow that they were going to effect change from the inside. The red-headed witch was sticking with her friends, even though as the smartest one in the bunch, she should have understood. In the end, the bus had left and he watched Buffy ride out of his life, for the time being.

But he knew, and he’d felt it when he last saw her in Sunnydale, that they would be together someday. Despite her lame cookie dough speech, he could feel the love they shared singing through his bones. That’s why she was so disappointed right now. But once his business here was concluded and she knew exactly why he’d done this, she would understand and all would be forgiven. He was sure of it. And he didn’t want Spike mucking it up.

He’d seen how fresh and raw her grief for the younger vamp had been when the survivors came to L.A. He also knew that Spike loved her more than she loved him, so Angel had let him go without a fuss, even letting him have a car. He had things to accomplish here, and he was counting on the fact that Spike’s plans never worked how he wanted them to. Besides, if he got through to Rupert, Spike might not catch up to Buffy for quite some time.

Even though the Slayers had left with a “Don’t call us and we won’t call you” attitude, Giles chief among them, he knew the man would want to know that Spike was back and heading for Buffy. Ghost Spike had told him that Rupert had tried to get him dusted back in Sunnydale, and they’d bonded a bit over Giles hating them both. And if Angel felt a slight twinge of guilt over what he was about to do, he ignored it, knowing that keeping Spike and Buffy apart was the best thing for everyone, even Spike. If Angel was going to end up with her, it was best that Spike get over Buffy and move on.

So he dialed the number, and 20 minutes later it was done. He’d explained Spike’s “resurrection” to Giles, and had hinted broadly that he wasn’t sure of Spike’s motivations. Let him think that he didn’t know if the soul was still there, just told him Spike was his old, annoying self. Giles was going to get Buffy out of Rome and back into the states somehow, and by the time Spike would have figured that out, he’d be following a trail that led nowhere.

What Giles didn’t know was that Angel had placed an operative on Buffy, just so he could watch out for her from afar. If anything happened, he’d be the one riding to her rescue. He just needed to know she was alright. And if Spike got anywhere near her, Angel’s man would know. He went to bed that night assured that nothing would threaten his future with Buffy.

TBC

Chapter 2

FRANCE

The muscles in his jaw were working over time as Spike ran into yet another brick wall while trying to scare up information on the Slayer. His sources had dried up (in some cases literally), died, or moved along, and he couldn’t get a bead on Buffy’s location. After a week of cooling his heels in Paris he decided that since he was just a Channel crossing away from England, he’d try to look up Giles and go from there.

CLEVELAND

It had been ridiculously easy to get Buffy back into the States. He mentioned trouble on the Hellmouth in Cleveland and she was ready and willing to jump back into the fray. He suspected there were still some unresolved issues between her and Faith, and any chance she could show up her rival would be appreciated. Now he needed to make sure there was a crisis to fix.

Giles unbuckled his seatbelt and watched Buffy and Dawn bicker good-naturedly while they retrieved their carry-ons from the overhead bins on the airplane. His heart sank when he realized he was probably going to break Buffy’s heart yet again. They’d managed to salvage a working relationship out of the ruins of Sunnydale, planning and starting up the Slayer Training Academy in London, but it was fragile and based upon honesty. And now, just months after Spike had sacrificed himself to save the world, he was back and already creating a pain in Giles’ cranium.

Angel hadn’t been very forthcoming, hinting only that Spike might be sans soul once again, and headed straight for Buffy. His poor girl had grieved for Spike, and was just now ready to live life again. As horrible as it made him feel, he wanted to keep her away from Spike until they knew his motives and status. She didn’t need the emotional turbulence that Spike would bring into her life right now. So he had reluctantly agreed to Angel’s plan and hoped that his instincts were correct this time.

BATH

All it took to get Giles’ address was a few nights hanging in the local pub. He found one that seemed to cater to the spectacles and tweed crowd, stayed quiet the first few visits, made some discreet inquiries the next, and here he was, standing on the Watcher’s doorstep.

A uniformed maid answered the door. She was obviously briefed in the basics of anti-demon safety as she never stepped over the threshold and never invited him in. When she explained that Mr. Giles was not at home, Spike turned up the charm.

“I knew him back in Sunnydale, you know.”

“Sunnydale!” she gasped, a hand flying to her heart. “Am I to assume you evacuated before it collapsed?”

“I made it out in the nick of time, but Rupert doesn’t know that. I was finally able to make it back here and thought we could catch up over a pint.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, but he was called out of town on business. I can take a message though, and see that he gets it.”

He put on his best pout, and he had a lot of them. “I guess that means Buffy and Dawn aren’t around either.”

“The girls? You know them?”

“They mean everything to me. The summer Buffy was gone, you know about that?” She nodded, her face filled with sympathy. “I took care of Dawn. She’s always been like a little sister to me. And Buffy…she’s the one. You know?”

The maid nodded again, a shy smile on her face. This young man must have been one of Mr. Giles’ “children” that he spoke so highly of. He had not been forthcoming about the losses they sustained in Sunnydale, but it was not unusual for him to be reserved. She knew the battle had taken an emotional toll on her employer and was betting that seeing this fellow would ease his sadness a bit. “That’s where he’s at now, in Rome. With Buffy and Dawn. I bet you could surprise them there.”

“Splendid!” he crowed, trying to stay in character. “Would you happen to have their address and phone?”

Sensing that she had nothing to fear from this man, she invited him in while she fetched the information he sought. He was so charming and handsome, especially when he kissed her knuckles as he left, that she just knew she was doing the right thing, helping him find his girls and advancing the spirit of true love.

^^^^^^^^

Spike returned to London to turn in his hired car and splurged on a Eurostar train ticket. As he was waiting to board at Waterloo Station he heard a voice from his past, one that was not particularly pleasant.

“William the Bloody,” the old vampire hissed. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Spike muttered.

“What brings you back to the Mother country? Last I heard you were running from a mob in Prague and ended up on the Hellmouth in California.”

“Sounds about right.” Needing a distraction, he patted himself down for a cigarette, lit it, and waved it about, trying not to suck it in his lungs. The old master was fronting several minions and looking to play King of the Mountain. He just waned to get on his damn train and didn’t care about these tossers. “But don’t get your knickers in a twist, Hedrick. I’m just passing through, and I’m not looking for trouble.”

“I just want to catch up, William. What’s the harm in that?”

Spike had trouble ignoring that loaded question, so he gritted his teeth and flicked his cigarette to the ground. “Fine,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “What do you want to know?”

“I wonder if your trip to the Hellmouth all those years ago was fruitful. Did you accomplish what you set out to do?”

“To cure Drusilla you mean?” The other vampire nodded. “Yeah, mate. She’s back to her old self.”

“And just where is the lovely yet deadly Drusilla tonight?”

“Wouldn’t know. We parted ways some years back.”

“Do tell! You two were inseparable! One might actually believe the rumors that you left her for a slayer.”

“You heard wrong, then.”

“So, you didn’t take up with the Slayer, William?”

“Right.” He shifted, his posture becoming defensive. “What’s this all about? You fishin’ for something in particular or are you just nosy?”

“What I want, William, is for you to remember that I am the Master of London and as such you will accord me with the respect due my station. As a matter of fact, I have heard many things about you in the past few years and I am merely curious.”

Spike couldn’t hold back any longer and burst. “About what? You’re curious about Dru? You can have her, for all I care. She’s a bit flighty, though, and seems to be going for the gross-out factor these days. Chaos and Fungus demons, that sort of thing. So I stayed on in Sunnyhell, trying to bag my third slayer, only this one bagged me. Then I saved the world, did you hear about that one? Went up in flames, only to be dragged back, because someone who’s not playing with a full hand is dealing the cards, you know, and no one who truly deserves it gets to die anymore.”

“Maybe I am curious about how your presence coincides with the abundance of abnormally strong teenaged girls who have been patrolling our streets lately.”

“Mini-slayers? They’re here?”

“That knowledge comes with a price William.”

If there were slayers here, Buffy might be nearby, or someone else he knew. So clenching his fists, he asked, “What’s the price, Hedrick?”

“I only ask for your loyalty. Pledge it to me, and I will share what I know.”

“Fine.” Spike knelt and kissed the ring on the older vampire’s left hand. “I pledge my fealty to you, Sir Rodney Hedrick, Master of London.”

“Good to see you remember your manners, William.”

“Had ‘em bloody well beaten into me, didn’t I?” Spike replied, getting back on his feet. “Now what do you know about slayers?”

“They’re depleting my numbers, for one. Roving gangs of girls staking all my minions. They are usually with a Watcher or older girl who teaches their killing ways. It’s simply dreadful, I tell you.”

“Have you done any recon on the girls, see where they’re coming from or rot like that?”

“We have, and the Slayer you seek is not among them anymore.”

This guy knew way too much for his comfort. “What do you know about that?”

“The fair Buffy Summers is a legend far and wide. She has seduced not one, but two of the great Aurelian vampires, and in addition is the greatest Slayer that ever fought our kind. Now, since you have pledged your loyalty to me, I wonder how you will reconcile that with the presence of your soul, and your desire to find Miss Summers.”

Fuck. Spike smelled set-up, and might have realized it too late. He focused his senses, trying to find something that would give him an advantage. When he heard a minute change in the sound of the train’s engine, he acted.

Summoning all the rage he felt at his helplessness and the obvious anger at whoever was feeding information to Hedrick, he flew into a berserker rage and ripped the head off the London master before he knew what he was doing. Finding himself surrounded by howling minions, he started dusting as many as he could. There was some confusion when the elder vampires realized they now had a shot at becoming the Master, and they set upon themselves.

Spike heard the train preparing to leave the station and with a great leap, he cleared the melee and landed atop the train. He lay panting on the roof for a few moments before finding a hatch and lowering himself into what appeared to be the luggage compartment. Brilliant stroke of luck, that was. He settled into a pile of comfortable looking garment bags and let the soothing motions of the train lull him into slumber, leaving London’s problems in London. He knew if he came back there’d be a price on his head, but he didn’t plan on coming back for a long time. His last thought before falling into a restless slumber was whether Angel had been the one to sic Hedrick on him. If he was, things just went from bad to worse.

TBC

Chapter 3

WOLFRAM & HART – Los Angeles

Angel hung up the phone, the barest hint of a grin on his lips. Although things hadn’t gone like he’d predicted in London, the situation had turned out better than he’d hoped. Thumbing through his Rolodex, he dialed the number of Rupert’s mobile.

”Rupert Giles.”

“It’s Angel. You’re free to return to London whenever you want. He’s on his way to Rome and won’t be returning to England anytime soon.”

”How did that come to be?”

“He killed Rodney Hedrick.” Angel waited to see if that name rang a bell.

”Good Lord – He killed the Master of London?”

“That he did. And if he returns he’ll have to fight anyone who challenges him for the title. He’s not going to want to do that. It’s probably the safest place for you to take the girls,” Angel appealed to the fatherly aspect in the Watcher. “But what you really need to know is that Spike pledged his fealty to Hedrick before he dusted him. You may draw your own conclusions about that.” The vampire knew Giles would automatically assume the worst of Spike, and he might be right. After all, what souled vampire in his right mind would give away power like that?

”Yes, well…”Giles stammered. ”I suppose we should make our way back there, then. I appreciate you keeping us informed.” Rupert could simply not bring himself to thank Angel for anything, let alone this kind of information, but he was helping, so he tried to be polite.

“I’ll keep in touch then, Giles.” They disconnected the call, and Angel checked his calendar. Having his contact speak with Hedrick had worked in his favor, and now he wanted to plant some surprises in Rome. Sighing heavily when he saw the meeting with the warring Gronok clans was in 5 minutes, he shoved the issue to the back of his mind to let his subconscious play with it. As much as he hated the Immortal, it might be fun to involve him next in his game of misdirection.

ROME

Spike flipped through his money clip and growled in frustration. He was running low on funds after gallivanting through Europe. He hadn’t gotten top dollar from the car he took from the Wolfram & Hart garage because he was in such a hurry to convert it to cash. Then he’d had to pay a pretty penny for documents. But if his intel was any good, Buffy would be here and it would all have been worth it.

He thought back to when he was last in Rome in the 1950’s. He and Dru had gone beatnik and hung at a great little club. Most of the patrons were stoned and feeding from them was a trip. This time, though, he headed for the demon part of town. Most large cities had them, and in older places they tended to stay the same throughout the centuries.

He found a club that catered to the lesser demons, the ones who would eventually be killed by a slayer because they had neither the brains nor common sense to avoid her path. He never heard mention of a slayer, and if she’d been here, they’d be talking about it. Comparing notes, plotting to kill her, bragging about having survived a battle with her; none of this was occurring.

He finally decided to just talk to the bartender despite his wish to lay low. His effort proved fruitful when the man admitted that he’d heard a slayer was in the city, but there had been no reports of her slaying. When it was clear to the demons that she was not a threat, they’d resumed life as normal and still she was not seen patrolling.

His shoulders slumped as he pondered his next move. The Watcher’s housekeeper could have been lying, but he could usually detect such things in humans. She believed she was telling him the truth. And according to the barkeeper she was here, just not in the public eye. Which would make it exceedingly difficult to find her.

There was someone who might know a thing or two, someone who probably had his elegantly manicured fingers in everyone’s pies. The thought of asking him for information was exceedingly distasteful, but he was feeling a mite desperate at the moment and was willing to bear the pain if it meant getting a crumb of information regarding Buffy.

He signaled the bartender again. “You know where the Immortal can be found these days?”

“Si, signore, he owns the most exclusive club in town. It’s not likely you’ll gain an audience with him by going there, but there is a third party who may be able to help you.”

Spike downed his shot. “A third party you say?”

“His lawyers. Wolfram e Hart, you know?”

Bloody hell. Damn leeches were everywhere. “There’s a branch office hereabouts?” He tried to ask casually.

The man nodded toward a bulletin board covered with notices. Smack dab in the center was an advertisement for the best legal counsel a blood sacrifice could buy. He moved closer and grabbed a card from the holder attached to the advert. The law office from Hell was the last place he wanted to set foot in, but it also might bring him one step closer to the Slayer.

Checking the time on the wall clock above the bar, he decided to stroll through the area, hoping to hear or see something that would keep him from having to visit the law firm. Thank whatever Gods were watching over him that he encountered nothing out of the ordinary. What he’d done in London was bound to send ripples through the European demon community soon enough and he didn’t want any trouble while he was here.

Making his way slowly back to his hotel, he decided he’d go to Wolfram & Hart first thing after sundown tomorrow. He knew from haunting the LA branch that the lawyers catered to their clients’ strange hours and that someone would be there to answer questions at all hours of the day.

^^^^^^^^

CLEVELAND

Giles replayed Angel’s disturbing phone call several times over in his head. Spike had killed the Master of London for unknown reasons after pledging his loyalty to the old vampire. This reinforced Giles’ intuition that the blond vampire had indeed lost his soul and was up to no good. It was not the dusting of the Master that had Giles concerned, it was Spike swearing to be loyal to a dangerous demon. To what end?

He was also aware that it was a member of his household staff who’d told Spike that Giles and the Summers girls were in Rome. The woman was distraught when she found out she’d let a potentially lethal killer into the mansion, but stated over and over again how charming he was and desperate to find the women he cared so much about. A witch from the coven had been dispatched to perform the disinvite spell and the maid had been reprimanded. Rupert guessed that she wouldn’t be talking to strangers again anytime soon.

And now Spike was probably in Rome. What would he do when he discovered that Buffy wasn’t there? Buffy had not been actively slaying in Italy. She was getting a chance to be a normal girl; shopping, making new friends, and checking out the nightlife. She’d met no one of note, and Giles was confident she’d left no trace of herself there.

The Cleveland Hellmouth had cooperated quite nicely and had presented several dire situations since their arrival. He thought they’d have time to wrap up a few more acopalypses before crossing the ocean once again and settling in London. He’d told Buffy that she was urgently needed at the Slayer Training Centre and she reluctantly agreed to relocate there, albeit temporarily, to help them out.

Giles then wondered at what point this charade would end. There had never been mention of anyone dusting Spike or determining if he presented a real threat to the Council and Slayers. He decided that once they were back in London they would stay there until something was resolved. And now it was time to research the latest threat, so he grabbed his dusty tomes and went downstairs to meet with the group.

^^^^^^^^

Spike stood outside the Rome branch of Wolfram & Hart, not knowing if he should scream or laugh. It looked the bloody same as the LA branch. He knew the interior would match as well. Cracking his neck, he straightened his spine and strode through the doors. He entered the lift and went to the floor where he knew the CEO’s office would be, and approached Harmony’s counterpart, a nervous-looking young gentleman.

“Need to have a sit-down with the CEO, mate,” he growled, flashing a bit of fang to intimidate the assistant.

“Do you have an appointment?”

He went into full game-face. “This is my appointment, you lackey. Now get him!”

Him turned out to be a her, a very buxom her in a form-fitting dress showing an ample amount of cleavage. She flounced toward him, throwing her arms open wide.

“Spike!” she cried, grasping his arms and giving him the two-cheek European kiss. “My vampire bello! Ciao! Benvenuti! Welcome to Rome! I am Ilona Costa Bianchi and I am CEO of the Roman offices of Wolfram e Hart. I am so happy to make your acquaintance!”

She tucked her hand through his arm and led him to her office, talking all the while and not letting him ask any questions. “I believe there is someone here you already know.” He saw the back of a brown-haired man, who gracefully rose and turned slowly toward them.

Balls! The bloody Immortal was here!

TBC

Chapter Four

ROME – Wolfram e Hart

Spike eased into the chair Ilona led him to but remained tense. Why did he feel like a puppet whose every move was being orchestrated? How the hell did they seem to know every move he was going to make?

“How the hell did you know who I was?” he blurted.

The Immortal chuckled. “Young William,” Spike growled at this git calling him young, but compared to the suave looking man, he was but an infant. “Let us not mince words. You are a marked vampire, no?”

Spike nodded. “London?” he simply asked.

“Such a brave vampire, bello, taking on an established Master among his lieutenants and minions,” Ilona purred. “Surely you must know that many have taken an interest in you. It will be difficult to maintain anonymity in this part of the world.”

“Bloody hell,” Spike grunted, leaning back and squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“And between my holdings and Wolfram e Hart, we have ears everywhere in this city,” the Immortal added. “You have been asking about the blonde slayer who was here briefly.”

“Buffy?” he sat up, alert once more. “What do you know of her?”

“Dear William, it is unusual for me to concede defeat, but this is one time you have actually chosen wisely.” Spike rose to his feet, fists clenched, but the Immortal gestured for him to sit again. “I only mean that your Buffy is exactly that. Yours. Few women have resisted my charms over the centuries but you left a hole in her heart that will not soon be filled.”

Spike returned to his seat, numbness spreading through his limbs. Could she really have loved him that much? “You’d better not be lying you ageless ponce or I’ll be the one to finally grant you mortality.”

The other man laughed, no guile written in his features. “I assure you, William, that she rejected me quite handily before she was called away to the states.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “She’s in America?”

“Back at the Hellmouth,” Ilona remarked, shuffling some papers in her hand. “Apparently it is still quite active.”

Spike let that sink it, and felt his anger and rage at Angel grow. Surely that bastard had to know something about this, since LA was only a few hours from the former town of Sunnydale. How could he have not known the Hellmouth wasn’t completely closed? And did he know that slayers would be sent there? Spike was torn between going after his hated grand-sire and sticking with his mission. His reverie was broken by the Immortal’s voice.

“Whatever you need in Rome, my good boy, you only have to ask. But I’m guessing you will be leaving soon? To find your beloved?”

“Can’t leave soon enough,” he grumbled. The soul prodded him, and he stopped on his way out the door. “But thanks. To both of you.” The Immortal did not stand, but inclined his head, and Ilona rose from the perch on her desk to accompany him. She led him to her assistant’s desk and leaned towards him conspiratorially.

“Your aching heart has taken root in my chest and I must help you fly,” she said. Spike looked at said chest in amazement for a moment before shaking himself out.

“Huh?” he replied glibly, internally smacking himself for loss of his oral functions.

“I am aware of your circumstances at our office in the City of Angels. To be a ghost with one foot in hell…” she shuddered, her dress barely able to contain her breasts, which caught Spike’s attention once more. “But now you are here, and searching the world for your true love, obstacles at every turn.” She pinched his cheeks and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I want to help, handsome Spike, and I have the means to do so. We have a private plane, necro-tempered glass on the windows and supersonic. It will get you back to LA in 5 hours.”

Spike looked at her suspiciously. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Amore, I tell you.”

“You’re the CEO of a branch of Wolfram & Hart. Try again.”

“William, you wound me with your suspicious words.”

“I haunted the place for months; I know what you all get up to.”

“Well, yes, there is that, but you are so handsome and earnest…” she stopped when he growled at her. “Screwing Angel. Okay?” At his puzzled look, she continued. “He is making it difficult for the rest of us to conduct business as usual. And I know of his history with the slayer. You end up with her, he is pissed, and it is a small victory for the rest of us. You and me, both, no?”

“What’s to say I won’t be ejected over the ocean or something?”

“I have no quarrel with you, Spike. The affair in London does not affect us here, but the faster you leave the Rome, the less likely it is trouble will find you here. Capiche?”

“Yeah, I ‘capiche,’” he sighed.

“Piero,” she gestured to her assistant, “Call the airfield and have them prepare the jet for Mr. Spike. Have them also provide the identity kit.” The assistant picked up his phone and Ilona ushered Spike to the elevator.

“A car will be waiting to take you to the plane. Once on board, you will find items in the restroom with which you may change your appearance. You may also take the clothes you find in the back room.” She bussed his cheeks once more and looked at him seriously.

“You may be proud of your appearance, Spike, but it might be best to change for a while, no?”

He got what she was saying, and nodded, stepping into the lift which had just arrived. He hesitated as he crossed the threshold, effectively stopping the doors, and shrugged out of his duster.

“Luv, you’ve been very kind to me, and I haven’t gotten much of that lately.” He handed her his beloved coat. “Will you please keep this safe for me? I’ll call when I’m ready for you to send it back.”

“Of course, bello.” She patted the lapels and folded it gently over her arm. “I give it back when you ready to be Spike again, okay?”

Spike then stepped all the way into the lift and nodded farewell. He hoped that his instincts about Ilona were correct and she wasn’t sending him to his doom or worse.

^^^^^^^^

LOS ANGELES – Wolfram & Hart

Angel nearly broke the handset as he slammed the phone onto his desk. Some idiot at the Wolfram & Hart branch office in Rome had sent Spike back to the states on their private jet. And he knew those things were fast. Now he had to call Rupert again and make sure he and the girls were on their way out of the country. Spike and Buffy on the same continent were just too close for comfort.

^^^^^^^^

SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

Spike looked longingly at the mini-bar on the way to the bathroom at the rear of the aircraft. He wanted nothing more than to break open several of the little bottles and drown his sorrows, but Illona’s hint that he should change his appearance took priority.

In the bathroom cabin he found hair dyes, scissors, and clippers under the sink. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Tiny words in the bottom corner had declared this mirror to be enchanted allowing demons with reflection issues the ability to see themselves.

He then spent several minutes checking himself out with a critical eye. His roots were showing and he looked haggard. He could do nothing about the fatigue; he was barely eating and sleeping enough to keep going, but he grabbed the clippers and gave himself a buzz cut. The peroxide and curls fell into the small sink and soon he was running his hand over the fuzzy brown stubble. Just that act alone made a dramatic change in his looks, but he trudged onward and moved to the back room to look at the clothing.

It was atrocious. Some gaudy, multi-colored short leather coat dominated the wardrobe; it looked like something an Italian race car driver would wear. Slacks in dark hues and many fabrics were available, with no denim in sight. The shirts were silk or cotton button-downs, with a few colorful ties and a couple of sport coats. Grimacing, he changed into a pair of dark blue wool trousers and blood red silk shirt and slid his arms into the awful jacket. He shook his head at the price he was about to pay for anonymity. But if it bought him time, or brought him closer to Buffy, it would be worth it.

A selection of shoes was on the floor of the wardrobe, from black sneakers to wingtips. He chose a pair of natty black oxfords and found a garment bag into which he stuffed his old clothes, several of the new outfits, and a couple pairs of shoes.

He then searched for a tool kit. He had noticed the fixtures in the bathroom were gold, and there were several other things of value he could remove from the plane and sell. Finding what he needed, he proceeded to unscrew, pry off, and lift anything a fence could sell for him. Once the bag was filled he let himself sit for a while and started in on the tiny bottles of booze. His soul ached a bit at the thought of cannibalizing the plane, but hoped Ilona would understand. Besides, it’s not like the damn lawyers couldn’t afford to replace anything.

TBC

Chapter 5

CLEVELAND

Rupert could hear Buffy grumbling to Dawn as they packed their bags yet again. He thought she would have been happy to leave the Hellmouth because they’d been so utterly busy since they arrived, but he could understand how tired she was of traveling and living out of a suitcase.

Then there was the bombshell he’d dropped on their core Slayer group prior to announcing their departure. Meeting with just Buffy, Dawn, Faith, and Robin, he’d told them that Angel had found evidence that an evil demon was looking for Buffy. He wanted word to get out that he and the Summers girls were bound for Japan, but they would travel elsewhere, and that location would only be known to him until they arrived at the airport.

As they rode silently in the cab to the airport, Giles could feel the multitude of sins he was perpetrating against Buffy weighing on his soul. After they entered the terminal he finally told them they’d be headed to England, where they would start researching ways to end this current threat to Buffy’s life. It was yet another half-truth and one more chink in his conscience, but it wasn’t that far off the mark.

Angel had said the plane carrying Spike was headed to LA, which meant he was going to the wrong Hellmouth. If he ever figured out they’d been in Cleveland, he’d have to get there, then the grapevine would reveal that Buffy had gone to Japan. There seemed to be plenty of time for he and Angel to get to the bottom of this Spike problem, and then he could finally tell Buffy the truth.

^^^^^^^^

LOS ANGELES

If the flight crew was surprised to see a different looking man in LA than the one that had left with them in Rome, they kept quiet. There were only 3 of them, and they’d stayed in the cockpit the entire time, at Spike’s request. The steward, of course, came out to prepare the plane for landing and again when they were on the ground.

The minute he opened the outside door Spike flew down the stairs and across the tarmac. He just knew there was someone waiting to tail him and he wasn’t going to make it easy. They had landed at a private airfield near LAX so he had at least some idea where he was. The closer he got to the main airport the easier it would be to get lost in the crowd.

He got the chance to hail a cab and went downtown to the hated law office. But what he needed most was another set of wheels and he wouldn’t feel guilty about boosting another car from Angel’s collection.

Again, taking the Viper crossed his mind, but it was just too obvious. Sneaking past the guard was easy and he knew where the security cameras were, so he stayed out of sight. He saw the Angel-mobile and thought briefly about taking it, but it wouldn’t get the value some of the newer cars could. He needed something that would get him to the Sunnydale crater on a tank of gas, and protect him from the rays of the daily sun. Maybe even be big enough to sleep in.

Something like…that Land Rover over there. Creeping over to the wall where the elevator was, he saw the key cupboard, picked the lock, and grabbed the keys to the SUV he’d chosen.

He went back to the guard shack, knocked the poor fellow out, raised the arm on the crossing bar and wedged it open with the unconscious guard’s shoe, and drove smoothly out of the garage, gunning it as soon as he was around the block. Noting the full gas tank, he happily found a radio station he liked, paid a visit to his favorite fence to unload the things he’d taken from the jet, and headed for the Hellmouth he thought he’d never see again.

^^^^^^^^

The parking garage attendant had continued to express his apologies at not preventing Spike from stealing the Land Rover. He knew that once upon a time his lapse would have meant enduring endless suffering and torture, maybe even death, but Angel appeared to be understanding.

In fact, the CEO of Wolfram & Hart was not worried at all, for he knew Spike was on his way to an unpopulated crater in the middle of nowhere. It was too risky to send an operative there; due to the vast nothingness Spike would spot him in an instant. However, he did have someone stationed at the diner along the highway that led to the former town. It was the only route from LA to Sunnydale and a description of the vehicle along with Spike’s new look had been passed out to the special ops team.

Angel was making a game out of guessing what Spike would do next. Once his grandchilde realized that no one was at the site of the former Hellmouth, where would he go next? He knew Spike would not give up, and had even told the Scoobies that once Spike made up his mind, nothing would stop him.

He had a sudden pain in his chest and felt a brief moment of guilt as he tried to remember why he was bound and determined to keep Spike and Buffy apart. He and the blonde had always enjoyed tormenting each other, but when was enough, enough? He thought about something he once read about setting free the one you love. Buffy would come back to him, or else she’d never really been his to begin with. And that’s what he was most afraid of; never having her again.

He placated his soul by telling himself that if Buffy and Spike ended up together after all of this, then it was because Spike had earned it, chasing her to the ends of the earth and back. He thought about making a move while Spike was occupied, but the timing still wasn’t right, and he knew Buffy wouldn’t accept him right now. Angel straightened his desk and took his private elevator to the penthouse. Heading straight for his liquor cupboard, he poured himself a generous amount of Irish whiskey and tried to numb the accusing voices in his head, shutting them up long enough to get some rest.

SUNNYDALE CRATER

He wasn’t prepared for the way his chest tightened when he arrived at the sight of his former home. Not only was he anxious to see Buffy, but so much had happened to him here…the chip, the soul; it seemed like everything he was now, he owed to his time in Sunnydale and his love for her.

Daybreak was near, but he was prepared. Two thermoses of warmed blood waited alongside a cooler stocked with extra packets in the passenger seat. Cold blood was vile, but would do in a pinch, and he had no idea what he’d be facing out here. He had blankets for protection in case he needed to dash outside of the vehicle or sleep the day away inside, and there were snacks to be enjoyed if the blood wasn’t enough.

He put the Land Rover in 4-wheel drive and left the road to follow the crater. He couldn’t get out to explore with the impending arrival of the sun, but he could at least see where the slayers had set up shop. When he’d driven for 2 hours and saw nothing he began to worry. He figured he was about halfway around and hadn’t seen so much as a tumbleweed or jackrabbit.

‘Keep it moving,’ he told himself, so he continued on another 2 hours or so until he reached the road again.

There’d been no cars, tents, buildings, or actual people anywhere near. The tightness in his chest increased as he wondered what could have happened. Had something come and swallowed them all? He knew of no demon that would eat cars or tents along with people, though.

Anger made its way through his body and he pounded his fists on the dashboard, cursing his life. When he calmed down and allowed himself to think clearly for a moment, he wondered if maybe they were only here at night, since that’s when the demons would come out. He drove off the road once again near a rock outcropping and parked in the shadow.

Drinking one thermos of blood, he figured he’d take a nap and leave to explore the crater after sunset; see if the girls showed up then.

^^^^^^^^

He woke just before sunset and drank the last of the warm blood from the thermos. As he licked a few drops from his lips the sun sank behind the hills and he was free to move about safely.

He moved slowly to the edge of the crater, not wanting to disturb the delicate land. He brought his demon forward to help see in the darkness, but after he extended the rest of his senses, he had only one thought. The place was devoid of any life whatsoever, supernatural or natural. He could smell the decay from the crater’s floor, but it was old, from the few months ago when everything had collapsed. And with his sharp night vision, he could see that nothing was there, or had been there recently.

Listening carefully, he heard no breathing, no rushing and pumping of blood, even of a demonic variety. There were few birds and animals as well. Seems even they knew well enough to stay away.

He returned to the car and slumped against the front tire. He’d been duped again and felt the clutching fingers of despair closing in on his soul. He supposed he should not be surprised by Ilona’s treachery, considering she was in league with the Immortal, but he still felt the sting of trusting the wrong person yet again.

He spent a good portion of the night leaning against the wheel and NOT brooding. Never brooding. Just…pondering. First of all, he wondered why he hadn’t packed any alcohol. Probably because he was foolish enough to believe Buffy would actually be here, although he might have needed booze to get through that reunion, but he’d been in too much of a hurry to get any. He let his mind wander and weirdly enough, it brought him to Prague and the mob which cursed Drusilla. He’d been nearly out of his mind with worry over her health and had cut a swath through the minions as he charged them with finding a cure for her.

Then he felt it. A pinprick of a memory trying to unbury itself from his jumbled thoughts. It had to do with the Hellmouth. Hellmouth…what had he heard about it that had brought him here? He knew there was a Slayer there, which was part of the attraction, but he’d been led to believe that the mystical forces and dark energies of the place would make an ideal location for curing his Sire.

Wait a minute…he was remembering now…A mage he’d consulted in Prague told him there were Hellmouths all over the world, some active, others not, for a variety of reasons, like the one he was sitting next to. God, if this were true, then Buffy could be anywhere! He smacked his palm against his forehead, trying to remember any detail that could lead him to the right place; his conversation with The Immortal and Ilona, other things the mage told him…

What had the old magician said about the states? The California Hellmouth had an inordinate amount of activity and the Slayer was here, so it was their first choice. But another one existed in…where the hell was it? He screamed in frustration as he tried to remember the location. Someplace unremarkable, or he would have thought of it already. There were sports teams, he recalled, and not much else. A team with an idiotic name…a color, he thought…brown…the Browns.

Oh bloody hell. Fucking Cleveland. He’d bet his right fang that she was in Cleveland.

TBC

Chapter Six
LOS ANGELES

The operative Angel had stationed at the diner saw the Land Rover go speeding by and radioed his team. They had determined that following Spike would be a bad idea due to the speed he was going. It was then that someone finally told Angel that they could track him through the GPS system in the vehicle.

Spike had turned East first chance he got. His grandchilde was nothing if not predictable. Headed for Cleveland, no doubt, but the tracking device was a nice little fail-safe. If he made it to Cleveland, and if he got some information, he’d be fed some line about Buffy being in Japan. Now maybe he could get some other work done for a change, since it appeared that Spike would be safely far from Buffy for a few weeks at least.

CLEVELAND

He hadn’t driven that hard ever. He pulled over at rest stops to nap whenever he felt too tired to continue, and he ordered rare steaks and hamburgers to supplement what blood he’d brought with him from LA. He didn’t dare take time to find a butcher or hospital to replenish his supply.

But at last he was here. He’d find a room, get a good kip and change his clothes, then find blood somewhere. It shouldn’t be too hard in a city that was home to a Hellmouth.
He found a decent motel and literally fell into bed, exhausted. If Buffy was here now, she’d still be there tomorrow, and a sweet smile graced his lips before sleep claimed him.

^^^^^^^^

After a good day’s sleep and shower, the impatient vampire checked his bag. Rubbing his hand over the stubble on his head he chose black jeans and a black oxford shirt. He didn’t want to be unrecognizable, but he also wanted to remain cautious. He left the glasses behind, but donned the noisy leather jacket and stepped into the night.

Closing his eyes and focusing all his senses, he tried to feel the vibrations from the Hellmouth. The demon bars would be located neaby; it’s not like he could call a cab to take him there. He soon felt the hum of evil running through his bones; a primal force calling to his demon to come and partake of the havoc and mischief that could only be found at the mouth to hell. He followed the vibes and soon caught the scent of several kinds of demons.

Looking around, he saw buildings suited for industrial use and abandoned warehouses. A neon sign was flashing down the block and he could hear music. When he reached the bar his mouth nearly fell open as he saw the name of the establishment. It was Willy’s.

Slipping unobtrusively through the door, he was not surprised that the oily little bartender had hightailed it out of Sunnydale and set up shop here. It was just the sort of thing Spike would have expected him to do. And he was not disappointed to see the man himself pouring drinks behind the bar. He’d have a lock on Buffy’s location in no time.

Stepping up to the bar he signaled to Willy and ordered a large glass of O-Neg with a chaser of Jack. The drink order caused a double-take and the man looked at his newest customer a bit more thoroughly.

“Do I know you?” he asked Spike.

“You might,” Spike drawled. “Do I look familiar?”

Willy peered carefully at him, not wanting to offend, but curious as all get out. The eyes and face were familiar, but it was that voice…

“Spike?”

“Not so loud!” the vampire hissed. “Trying to keep a low profile here!”

“But you’re…they said…aren’t you supposed to be dead? I mean deader? Dust?”

“Who said?”

“The slayers! Everyone! You burned up closing the Hellmouth and haven’t been seen since!”

Spike had to shush the bartender again as his excitement was getting the best of him. “You’ve heard of Wolfram & Hart, right?”

Willy nodded.

“I showed up there after closing the Hellmouth, all ghosty-like. Haunted the place for a while before they turned me back into myself. And now I’m trying to find Buffy. And before you deny it,” for the human had began sputtering and Spike heard his heart rate increase, “I still have my soul and I’m just trying to find her to let her know I’m back. I know she’s here, so just be a good man and tell me where I can find her.”

“She was here, and man, was it just like old times. Shakin’ me down for info every chance she got, only this time she had a bunch of the slayer girls with her. She kept telling ‘em to go for my nose, man!”

“Yeah, Slayer has a thing for noses, doesn’t she?”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“So where is she now?”

“I don’t know…honest!” he added, as he saw the dangerous glint in Spike’s eyes. “They were all here a few weeks ago; the old British guy, Buffy, Faith, Buffy’s little sis, and all the new slayers. Now I just get Faith in here once in a while, and that guy she’s with –Robin. She don’t say where Buffy is, and I don’t ask.”

“Bloody hell!” he swore, trying not to lose it in front of Willy and his customers. It sounded like he’d missed her again. He wondered if he should find Faith, but if she was still with the principal they might not be so forthcoming with info about Buffy. And if Angel was pulling the strings…well, he knew that the dark-haired slayer owed Angel and if that bastard was feeding them lies they’d stake him first and ask questions later.

Before he could make any decisions he felt the hairs prickle at the back of his next. Slayers! The door opened and the scent of several of them hit him at once.

“Not a word!” he shushed at Willy, and moved to a table nearby where his back was to the bar.

“Faith!” The bartender exclaimed loudly as the slayer approached. “And…the girls,” he faltered. Spike chuckled inwardly, wishing he could watch the little man deal with the baby slayers.

“Willy,” Faith greeted. Spike heard no more dialogue for a few minutes before the man started babbling. The slayer had obviously figured him out; she only had to stand there and look intimidating and he’d spill the beans just to get over his discomfort.

“So what brings you to my fine establishment this evening? I’ve got some new drinks the girls could try, without alcohol, of course – so who’ll be first?”

“Can it, you slimeball. We’re just here checking out the locals, making sure nothin’s going down. Got anything you want to tell us?”

“Now Faith, you know I’d tell you if something was up, right? We got a good thing going on here based on trust and mutual respect, yeah? And you don’t even have to bash me on the schnoz, okay? Not like Buffy always does…hey, speaking of Buffy where’s she been lately?”

Spike wanted to groan out loud. Willy was displaying all the subtlety of a rhinoceros in a china shop. Faith would never give him any info like that.

When the elder slayer heard him mention Buffy, she knew it was her chance to spread the word. The little weasel was obviously pumping her for information about B, and she was more than happy to provide it.

Leaning over the bar, she gestured him closer.

“Japan,” she said in a noisy whisper.

“Japan?” Willy echoed.

“Remember that doomsday cult that tried poisoned the subway a while back?” Willy nodded, wide-eyed. “They’re back, and they’re summoning demons. Poor B’s got to figure out what to do about the crazy humans. That’s not really her gig, ya know?”

Spike heard it all, and he knew. Killing demons was her gift, her art, but evil humans confounded her. If he got there soon enough he could swoop in, help her out, and she’d be relieved for the back-up. Now he needed a plan for getting to Japan. He did not want to waste any more time on a sodding ship, so he’d have to figure something out with an airplane.

He half kept his sensitive hearing on the continuing conversation between Faith and Willy and wasn’t surprised when she demanded some info of her own.

“Tit for tat, barkeep. Now spill. Who’s the new big bad in town? I’m sure you have something for me.”

“Me? No…there’s nothing! It’s like I said before; you know I’d tell ya if something new was here…”

Willy’s stammering was cut short when the back room door opened with a slam and all eyes were drawn to the noise. The creature emerging through the doorway was weaving drunkenly on his feet and kittens were stuffed in every pocket of his pants and jacket. The regulars all turned back to their drinks, used to this spectacle, but one set of eyes met the demon’s and the recognition was immediate.

“Spike!” yelled Clem, and the vampire waited for the shit to hit the fan.

TBC

Chapter 7

LONDON

Giles was grateful that Buffy didn’t seem to be catching on to the demon gossip. She hadn’t been patrolling much, wanting to focus more on teaching her charges in the gym, but even Giles had heard the buzzing about Sir Rodney’s dusting. When he’d been with Buffy and the girls at night she was busy with show and tell and most of the demons didn’t live long enough to tell tales.

There was a lot of infighting among the departed Master’s clan which did not go unnoticed, but Buffy was not interested in it. Giles had told her that the demons were fighting for control of territory, and that was all she needed to know, and she didn’t press for more information. She was different, changed from the curious and exuberant teenager he once knew, but she was more than adequately doing her job and he did not fuss. He just continued to hope for the call from Angel which would let them move on, one way or another.

CLEVELAND

The action in the bar went into slow motion when Clem yelled Spike’s name. The slayers froze, staring at Clem, for they knew that name. Buffy had seen to that. She made sure they all heard the tale of the vampire who’d saved them all. Willy glanced between Clem and Spike, the latter of whom was staring into his drink, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Willy cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention on him.

He shook his head, muttering loudly.

“I swear it happens at least once a night.”

“What happens?” Faith asked, her voice heavy with suspicion.

“Some displaced Sunnydale demon wants to raise their glass and either curse Spike or salute him for closing the Hellmouth down there.”

Clem shot a bleary glance at Willy, who shook his head at Clem, hoping the drunken demon would catch on.

“So Clem, what’s it gonna be this time? Was Spike your best buddy ever or the biggest undead jerk this side of Dracula, chasing you out of sunny SoCal and forcing you to move to this shithole?”

Clem’s ears flopped as he tried desperately to follow the conversation. Different as he looked, he knew the vampire a few tables over was his old friend, but he could tell that Willy was trying to cover something up. He was here all the time and no one had ever mentioned Spike.

He was saved from making any decision when Faith banged on the bar, demanding a shot.

“How ‘bout I do the shout out tonight?” Not waiting for any protests, she forged ahead, raising her shot glass.

“To Spike: I wish…”

A chorus of “NO!s” interrupted her and there were shouts about vengeance and justice demons from the crowd. She sheepishly reworded her tribute. “I hope that wherever you landed, you know how proud of you we are, and how much we miss you. Some more than others.”

Everyone took a drink, even those demons who didn’t know what the hell was happening. Mostly, they all just wanted the girls to leave. Large of groups of slayers meant demons were being slaughtered and most knew that if they were drinking at Willy’s instead of committing random acts of mayhem, they were generally safe for another day.

A collective sigh went up among the bar patrons when the slayers left and they resumed their drinking and posturing. Clem was still swaying unsteadily on his feet so Spike stood and retrieved his old friend, sitting him down at his table.

“Is it really you, Spike?” his friend asked, slurring his words.

“Yeah, it is, but keep it down, mate. I’m undercover right now.”

“But last I heard you burned up in the Hellmouth.”

“You heard right. But someone was playing a game and brought me back.” He kept the story light, realizing any detail would be lost on his drunken friend.

“Buffy!” Clem exclaimed loudly before Spike shushed him. “Buffy!” he repeated, softer this time. “She’ll want to see you. She’s so sad, Spike…” The other demon went momentarily quiet.

“I know, mate. I’m workin’ on it. Seems the girl is always two steps ahead of me.”

When Clem looked at him with eyes a bit clearer, Spike explained the trials and tribulations he’d already been through.

“And now I need to get to sodding Japan.” Spike tossed back another shot of JD and sighed wearily. “I’m gonna have to fly, but that’s always been a bit tricky for vamps. I just can’t lose any more time on a fuckin’ boat.”

“I think I can help you with that.” Clem sounded better now, having drunk two cups of coffee since sitting down with his old buddy. The kittens had been relegated to a covered basket that Willy scrounged up; left behind, no doubt, by a previous unlucky gambler. “I know these guys…”

^^^^^^^^

And that’s how Spike came to be loaded into the hold of an airplane bound for Japan.

The “guys” Clem knew were Ursh demons; they could easily pass for human and they owned a funeral parlor which served both natural and supernatural clients. They placed Spike in a plush, satin-lined coffin with discreet holes drilled in the sides; not because he needed the air but to give him some sense of his bearings. He had a few thermoses of blood, a Discman and several CDs, a penlight and book, a blanket for the cold, and some snacks. A hearse delivered him to the airport and where he was none-too-gently bounced into place and secured to the floor.

Spike didn’t enjoy travelling this way, but he was safe from the sun and it would get him quickly to Japan. He napped and read during the 24 hour flight, but he felt as if time was plodding on and was relieved when they finally touched down. His coffin was claimed by associates of the Cleveland Ursh and he ended up at the equivalent of a Japanese funeral home.

Before he left the place he was reassured that similar arrangements could be made for his return trip. He was hoping, though, that he wouldn’t need to. Yes, he would find Buffy; they’d hole up somewhere and get reacquainted, then take a nice, leisurely cruise back to…well, wherever they wanted to go!

The friendly yet obsequious man who was Spike’s contact gave him the location of a bar where he thought the vampire could get some information. He wasted no time in hailing a cab and arrived there 15 minutes later. Swaggering through the door, he paused briefly and scented the place.

He was a bit surprised to detect only human scent. Still, Toshi had sent him here and given him a contact name, and since it was his only lead he might as well see it through. Stepping up to the bar, he signaled the man working behind it.

“Speak English, mate?”

“Yes, enough to get you something. You want whiskey? Beer? Sake?”

“Sake. Warm.” Spike answered. “And a man named Yamamoto. He here?”

The barman placed the sake cup before Spike and poured him a drink from the ceramic flask, which he then sat next to the cup.

“Yeah, he here now.” The man nodded towards the last booth against the wall. “Whatever you need, he take care of for you.”

Spike thanked him and gave him some of the Japanese money Toshi had given him. Grabbing his flask and cup, he made his way to the man he hoped would lead him to Buffy.

LOS ANGELES

“What?” Angel yelled into the phone. “How did he get there so fast? Damn it!” He’d expected Spike to come back to the West Coast to catch a freighter to Japan, but somehow he’d found a direct flight instead.

“Well then have your man send him as far away from Tokyo as possible! Have him go up Mt. fucking Fuji! Just keep him there as long as you can!” Turning the phone off, he let it crash to the desk and rubbed his temples. He was getting tired of the cat and mouse, but Spike wasn’t giving up. He wondered how much more he wanted his grand-childe to suffer. Angel decided to brood a bit as he contemplated the situation.

He really hated having to rely on others; even during his days as Angelus he’d sooner pop off a minion’s head then trust them to follow orders correctly. And since he’d come to LA and started his own business, everyone he’d gotten close to left him in some way. Doyle was dead and Cordelia remained in a coma. Wesley had kidnapped Connor and the boy had suffered for it, leading Angel to make the drastic decision to enter the lion’s den to get it fixed. The memory loss was the nail in the coffin of his estrangement from the former AI team and he knew they’d never regain the closeness they’d once enjoyed.

With a sigh he came to a decision. When Spike left Japan Angel would call off the chase. The younger vamp would create his own trouble soon enough, and if Buffy wanted to be part of it, which he was hoping she wouldn’t, then he would interfere no longer. He had to refocus on his current mission, using Wolfram & Hart’s assets to fight evil, not to make Spike’s life miserable.

TBC

Chapter 8

TOKYO

Spike stood by the table and waited to be acknowledged by Yamamoto before bowing slightly then slid into the booth across from him. The vampire took a sip of his sake before speaking.

“Toshi says you’re the man with information around here.”

“You might say that.” Yamamoto paused to taste his rice wine. “What can I do for you, Mr…?”

“Spike. Just Spike. I’m looking for a Slayer. You know the term?”

“Yes, I know of Slayers.” The Japanese man and his cohort shared a sly glance and a chuckle. “Although she must be quite bored here.” He brought the glass to his lips once more, and Spike took another shot of his sake, trying to be polite and not rush the man.

“For you see, we have not had demons in Japan since the end of the War.”

“The War? You mean World War II?”

“It’s true. The American occupation forces exterminated all non-humans. There were rumors about experiments and conditioning, and the demons that were here either disappeared or left. Even after control of our country was relinquished to us, demons stayed away. It is, after all, a relatively small island and resources are limited.”

Spike’s mind retrieved a memory of Angel and a submarine, and a shudder rippled through his body when it was followed by a mental picture of white walls and electrified doors.

“Be that as it may, I heard that the Doomsday Cult is calling up demons and the Slayer’s been sent here to stop them.”

Yamamoto shook his head vigorously. “No, there is no more Doomsday cult, and there are no…” he was interrupted by the chirping of a cell phone. His assistant moved to the back of the bar, pulling the mobile out of his pocket.

The Japanese man opened his mouth to continue his denials, but was stopped when his minion returned quickly to their table. A brief whispered conversation in Japanese took place and Yamamoto’s cool façade slipped a bit.

“My apologies, Spike-san. It appears that I have been misinformed, and a slayer has just been sighted in Nagasaki. They say she is a small thing and …”

There was more, but Spike had tuned out. This just couldn’t be a coincidence. He finally got the notion that all this time Angel might be playing him. He spoke no Japanese, but thought he’d heard the words Wolfram and Hart spoken in the middle of the quiet interchange. It hadn’t registered at first, but with this sudden about-face of Yamamoto’s and all the near-misses he’d been experiencing he just knew it.

Bloody buggering fuck.

Had he not received reassurances from Clem and The Immortal, he might have given up finding her long ago. He thought back to the day he bought his ticket to France. He had almost talked himself out of going with some nonsense about not being able to top his grand exit and the fact that he had nothing to offer Buffy; nothing but himself. But he’d gotten on the ship knowing that she had feelings for him. She might have waited until the worst possible moment to share them with him, but after all they’d been through in the past year, he knew she was sincere. And now it looked like his faith in her had been justified. Giving up now was not an option and he was more determined than ever to get to Buffy.

Instead of confronting Yamamoto by slipping into game face and threatening him, he decided to play along - let the giant forehead think he was still running about after Buffy. He finished his sake and asked Yamamoto all the right questions, knowing his every move was now being watched by Angel. Let them think he was going to Nagasaki, but he was leaving the way he’d just arrived, with one small change.

He was going back to London. If he couldn’t get to Buffy, then he was going to make damn sure she came to him.

LONDON

Even with his shorn hair and borrowed duds, it didn’t take long for the first batch of ambitious vamps to find him. The news of the subsequent dustings of said vamps spread through the demon grapevine like wildfire and all who heard paid heed – William the Bloody was back in England to claim his title as Master of London.

Rebuilding his Court gave Spike a sense of purpose and the respect he’d lost during his years in Sunnydale, fighting with Buffy notwithstanding. Spike had never been a great thinker; this much he’d admitted to the Slayer, but he was fully capable of running his hometown and had carefully crafted a workable plan during his long and confining return from Japan.

After his first few challenges he set out to find some backup. And he knew just who to look for. In an old city like London there were vamps that possessed a bit more substance and smarts than your run-of-the-mill minion. What set these vamps apart was their reluctance to kill innocent people. Like Peaches, they usually subsisted on animal blood or willing donors and had little loyalty to their Sires or bloodlines. They realized there was more to unlife than the usual hunt, bite, and kill, and existed closer to humans than other vamps. Sunnydale had been home to a few of this kind of vamp until Buffy wiped them from the map. They were the ones that Soldier Boy ran to when he started craving the bite.

Along with the other demons in town, they were laying low due to the influx of slayers. After he’d dealt with several of the serious Would-Be-Master wannabes he went after the non-violent vamps, luring them to his side with promises of getting the slayers to leave them alone. Once they heard his plan they were his; fealty pledged and all that rot. His collection was varied; there were a couple of magic-users and those who’d kept up creative pursuits. They moved into a nice set-up in an old industrial area, far enough away from most humans that slayers wouldn’t be alerted to their presence and Spike began plotting his next step.

Soon they’d have a slayer joining them, a guest of the fool-proof cage set to one side of the main warehouse. And he needed to make a phone call to Rome. He couldn’t do anything about the hair, but he could get his duster back. He’d have Ilona overnight his coat and there’d be no doubt – William the Bloody was back in business and everyone would know.

^^^^^^^^

Giles swallowed the last of his pint and slammed the glass on the pub table. He ignored the stares of his neighbors because they were the least of his problems.

Apparently Spike had returned to assume his title as Master of London.

And Angel seemed to be washing his hands of the whole situation. During Spike’s tour of the world there’d been no slaughters, murders, or unexplained corpses with neck wounds, so Angel was assuming the soul was intact and had better things to do than keep tabs on the other vampire.

Giles forcefully reminded the CEO that Angel had dragged him into this farce and was now crapping out, leaving the Watcher holding the bag. Even after explaining that Spike was defeating all would-be heirs to the title and had to be planning something, Angel had just told the man to keep him appraised if the situation worsened and had abruptly hung up.

Now it was up to the new Council and their somewhat inexperienced slayers to determine if Spike was indeed a threat. He absolutely did not want to bring Buffy into the operation, but knew she would need to be briefed sooner or later.

^^^^^^^^

The thing Giles had been dreading happened one night during their normal patrol routines. A call came in from the Alpha team - one of the girls had chased a vampire down a blind alley and never returned. There was no body, no blood, just…nothing. An hour later the Delta squad returned to the Academy, out of breath and panicked; they’d lost Marta in the Tube. But when the Echo girls called to ask if Vi had come back on her own, Giles knew that Slayers were being targeted and he was certain that Spike was somehow responsible.

The glasses came off after he knocked on Buffy’s door at 3 in the morning. His left hand was searching out his handkerchief when she opened the door with a scowl on her face.

“Is my clock broken or is it really 3am?” she asked, rubbing her puffy eyes.

“I’m afraid it is a bit early, or late, if you’d rather, but I assure you you’ll want to hear about what’s been happening tonight.”

Still scrubbing a hand across her face, she gestured for him to come in and take a seat while she clicked on the little lamp next to her bed. As she sat on the edge of her comforter, she yawned.

“So spill. Is some nasty, slimy baby-eating demon breaking down the front door, because that’s the only reason you should be here right now.” Though she would never tell him, Buffy was secretly grateful for the distraction. Spike had once again taken a starring role in her dreams and it was getting harder and harder to wake up and face the real world, knowing that the only time she would ever get to see him would be during her slumber. And she secretly wished her dreams about Spike were prophetic, even though they were a bit weird.

In her sleep she’d seen him with short hair, wearing funny clothes, on boats and planes, and in one particularly disturbing dream, he’d been in a coffin. She felt her eyes closing and tried to rouse herself when Giles barked at her.

“Buffy! I know you’re tired but you must pay attention! Three slayers have gone missing tonight and I suspect someone from our past is behind it!”

She sat up sharply, her senses jarred awake by the bad news.

“Who, Giles? What girls are missing?”

“Marta, Clare, and Vi, I’m sorry to say,” he sighed, glasses polished and perched back on his nose.

“And who do you think is behind it?” She stood now, reaching into her closet for slaying clothes. No one was getting her girls without a battle.

“We’ve had reports…I’m almost certain….and this is going to come as quite a shock, but, um…Spike is alive, and is the current Master of London. He’s kidnapping the slayers to draw you out, Buffy. I think he wants to kill you.”

Buffy froze, a sweater in her hand, and slowly turned around.

“What did you say?” she whispered.

Giles made throat-clearing sounds. “It’s Spike. He has returned from hell, without his soul, I believe. He has been looking for you.”

“And you know this how? And I’m just now finding out about it because…” Clutching her sweater tightly to her chest, she returned to her bed and sat tautly on the edge, a wary expression etched into her features.

“Well, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you about this, but Angel informed me a few weeks ago about…”

“Angel knew?” she interrupted, barely keeping her temper in check. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Yes…well, when Spike left Los Angeles and killed the old master after arriving here we came to the conclusion that he was up to his old ways, and that meant a return of his desire to kill you, so…”

Buffy held up a hand, silencing her Watcher. “I’m still stuck on ‘Spike’s alive’ and I think you need to start from the beginning.”

Giles sighed deeply and acquiesced. He told her what he knew about Spike’s resurrection, which was minimal, and Angel’s plan to keep the other vamp away from Buffy.

There was no response from Buffy after Giles finished his story. He was in the process of clearing his throat again when she looked at him, anger defining her features.

“You made another decision about Spike without telling me and now look what’s happened.” The wrath in her voice made Giles recoil in surprise. “I seriously doubt that Spike is evil again, and wouldn’t trust anything you or Angel said about him. But if I’d have known this sooner, I’m sure we wouldn’t be missing three slayers right now.”

She banged open her drawers and pulled out some clothes.

“Buffy, I… I know you’re angry with me right now, but please don’t go out until we get some more information.”

“Angry? I’m beyond angry, Giles. If Spike really is evil then I’m going to feed you to him myself.”

“Really Buffy, there’s no need for such vulgarities.” Giles knew she’d be upset, but she was scaring him right now.

His breath caught when she moved into his space and manhandled him to the door.

“I need to get dressed, so it’s time for you to go.”

“Buffy – no…please…You can’t just rush out there with no information. We need to make a plan…”

“No, Giles. I’m done playing your game. You and Angel played us; sent Dawn and I all over the place and made a fool out of Spike. I’m going to end this, one way or another.”

As she closed the door on him he stuck his foot in it.

“And if he’s evil? Will you be able to stake him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she growled, and slammed the door in his face.

Putting the anger in the back of her mind, she thought about who she could take with her as back-up. She wasn’t so foolish as to leave headquarters by herself. The rudiments of a plan were forming in her mind, and if things went as expected, she’d need an accomplice.

Dressed and weapons stashed on her person, she crept upstairs to Lynn’s room. The girl was one of their recent finds, but she was the best fighter they’d seen among the new recruits. Buffy described the mission and Lynn was more than ready to accompany her. The teen-ager had self-confidence, but had not been allowed to demonstrate her skills.

The slayers climbed out of Lynn’s window to avoid any allies Giles might have roused and easily climbed three stories down. They jumped the fence and set out for the demon-populated section of the city. Buffy was confident she’d get to the bottom this mess by sunrise.

^^^^^^^^

Which made it all the more disappointing when the sun peeked out from a bank of drab, gray clouds without them having seen any vamps. She cringed at the thought of what awaited her back at Slayer HQ – the girls would be distraught, scared and angry, while Giles would try to convince her they needed to plan, plan, and plan some more – and maybe even try to subvert her leadership.

But how could she think the worst of Spike? She’d done so once before and he’d amazed her by getting his soul back. And no matter what, he never failed to keep watching out for her. If he had indeed returned to England, and if he had kidnapped the slayers, then for sure he must have reason to do so. She only hoped that she would get the opportunity to hear the truth from him before one of her less rational colleagues handled it in their own manner.

Chapter 9

SPIKE’S COURT

Three terrified young women huddled together in a cage that was seemingly impervious to slayer strength. One by one they’d been taken from their teams and brought to an unremarkable warehouse where they were surprised to see their sister-slayers, shaken but not harmed. And they were not in unpleasant conditions; the temperature inside the old building was comfortable, and there were cots with blankets and pillows, as well as a cooler full of drinks and snacks.

They were left alone as the vampires went about their business, but they remained vigilant, hoping for some information or clues to their whereabouts. After some hours the vampire activity slowed down as daylight approached, so the girls chose cots and worked out a watch schedule. When a lone vampire approached, Vi, the first to have duty, gasped when she recognized the one vamp she knew, even though his appearance had been drastically altered.

Spike. Buffy’s former lover and the demon who had saved the world. His hair had been recently shorn but there was no mistaking the striking features of his gorgeous face. The black clothes and long leather coat were also a giveaway.

He chuckled as he drew closer to the cage. He had heard Vi’s intake of breath and increased heart rate.

“Cat’s out of the bag, eh pet?”

Determined not to let him get the best of her, Vi adopted a defensive stance, staying well away from the bars.

“Spike went up in flames in Sunnydale. I know what you are.”

“Do you now?” he purred, placing his hand on the cage bars and rattling it. “If I was the First would I be able to do that?”

“Spike? Is it really you?” Vi’s curiosity was stronger than her fear, but she still didn’t get to close.

“In the un-dead flesh,” he chuckled, giving the bars another rattle before releasing them.

“What’s all this rubbish, then?” she demanded, waving her arms about. “Have you gone evil again? And how the bloody hell did you make it out of the Hellmouth?”

“All good questions, ducks, but I’m not sharing answers just yet. You’ll see that your accommodations are more than adequate, if not posh, and you’ll be safe as houses here.”

Vi snorted. “Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. You’ve got a bunch of slayers in a cage in a warehouse full of vampires and you want us to think we’re safe.”

Spike shrugged and turned to walk away. “Believe what you want, but you’ll not be harmed, and I expect you to be out of there soon.”

“Buffy will have your hide for this,” she snapped.

“I sincerely hope so,” he whispered to himself. He walked to rest of the way to his quarters in silence hoping beyond hope that Buffy had taken the bait.

SLAYER TRAINING ACADEMY

Buffy had been right about the scene that met her when she returned to Council headquarters. The girls were panicked, the Watchers were in a dither, and witches from the Coven had attempted unsuccessful locator spells, indicating that wherever the slayers were they were being shielded by powerful magic. If they were still alive.

There were plans to set traps, use electronic surveillance, hit the demon scene for info, and the like. Anger simmered in her gut, giving her the fuel she needed to stay alert. Every plan was geared toward painting Spike, if it was even him, as the bad guy. She’d tried early on in the conversation to get them to stop making assumptions, but the need to identify a villain was strong and Spike fit the bill.

To make matters worse, Angel evidently had some supersonic jet at his disposal and was on his way here to “help.” And all Buffy wanted was to find Spike and talk to him. Rationally. And maybe kiss him.

When Angel arrived Buffy strong-armed him and Giles into the kitchen and demanded to know exactly what kind of game they’d been playing. Giles wasted no time in pinning the blame on the sheepish vamp.

“Did you really believe that this…this cockamamie plan was going to succeed?”

“You went along with this ‘cockamamie’ plan well enough, Giles. You wanted Spike as
far away from Buffy as I did.”

“Well, yes, but had you been truthful about the status of his soul I never would have agreed to deceive Buffy!”

“Who really knows with him, though? I would never trust Spike, ever, soul or not.”

Silence descended in the airy room as Buffy and Giles digested Angel’s vehement statement.

“And why is that, Angel?” Buffy asked softly.

“Because I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen the destruction he’s wrought. And before you say it, yes, those are things I taught him. Things Angelus taught him.”

“But what about the soul?”

Angel chuckled, sounding very much like Angelus. “After all the years you’ve known me, do you really think the soul makes that much of a difference?” Buffy’s stomach gave a lurch and righteous anger chilled in her bones. She’d spent years rationalizing her love for Angel based on how completely separate he was from Angelus, and now he was going to give voice to one of her worst nightmares. “I had a hundred years to get used to living with my soul before I met you, Buffy. I made mistakes, I struggled, and I wasn’t perfect. Even now, I know you all don’t trust me. And Spike has only had his soul for what, a couple of years?”

“But that’s not what all this was about, was it Angel?” Buffy stepped into his space, arms crossed and prepared to blast him. “This was just about keeping us apart so you could have me, wasn’t it?”

His lack of response was all the confirmation she needed. And now she had to be crafty. She was even more certain that whatever Spike was doing, it was just to draw her out. But if she shared that with Giles and Angel they were bound to stop her from going to him.

“So let’s just leave it at this. I should have been told that he was back, and both of you were wrong to interfere. And all I want now is to find my slayers. Can we focus on that, please?” It was the right thing to say and there were hastily muttered apologies before they returned to the living room to formulate a rescue plan.

^^^^^^^^

The planning session slowed down as energy flagged late morning. Everyone needed to rest and the general consensus was if vampires were behind the kidnappings then they’d be sleeping, too.

When they broke for lunch Buffy managed to whisper in Lynn’s ear. The younger woman was eager to help Buffy and was able to contact two of the other girls without raising suspicion, and one by one they managed to discreetly disappear as dusk approached. Katya had printed out a map of the local area and they marked the places where the other girls had been last seen. Unfortunately Giles had done the same. But while he and Angel were focused on staying in the area, Buffy and her team were going the opposite way, hoping the kidnappers would do the same.

^^^^^^^^

They’d been out for about 30 minutes when the vampires struck. Buffy, her hair tucked completely beneath a black stocking cap, saw the attack from her perch on the roof above. From the soft light of a streetlamp she saw the vamps holding back, and it was obvious they were cutting out one of the girls from the group. Mission accomplished, they ran, the biggest of them with Katya slung over his shoulder, and Buffy followed. The other girls knew what to do and they strolled leisurely back to HQ making sure their stories were straight. They stopped for a snack, lurked around a few cemeteries looking for Giles’ teams, and generally lollygagged until they were sure they’d given Buffy enough time to put her plan in motion.

TBC

Chapter 10

SPIKE’S COURT

The vampires unknowingly led her to a nondescript warehouse and approached a side door with two sentries keeping watch. She saw one of the vamps from the attack reach out and rap the door smartly with the “shave and a hair cut” sequence. Her small smile at that incongruence quickly disappeared when the door opened and Katya was taken inside. For the first time she wondered about the minions Spike had collected. Had he made them? Inherited them from the old Master? She believed with all her heart that he was not evil, but the presence of these unknown vamps was troubling.


Trying to reach a decision, she sank to the ground in a cross-legged pose, closed her eyes and breathed deeply, centering herself and extending her senses. She had always been an intuitive Slayer, but love had once interfered with her duty and she needed to make completely sure that she was clear-headed this time.

She didn’t have to search too far within herself to figure it out – Spike would never hurt her again. Even if he had gone evil, which she didn’t believe for one minute, he’d give her a fair chance. She might even be able to secure the release of the baby slayers. Satisfied with her soul-searching, she arose and scaled down the building. She was counting on Lynn and Amber to delay their return to the Academy, but she struck quickly anyway. One sentry was dust and the other was pinned against the door before his friend’s ashes had settled.

“I’m the one he’s looking for,” she growled through clenched teeth. “You’re going to take me to him, but we do this my way or I’ll find another minion who will get it right.” She poked him sharply with the stake perched over his heart and he nodded vigorously.

“Yes, your way, of course! Now if you’d just let me down please…” She set him down and just as quick he had a crossbow pointed at his back.

“Take me somewhere he isn’t, and make sure no one sees us.” Nodding, the sentry rapped on the door again and sent whoever answered on a made-up errand. They slipped in the door and he carefully led her through a maze of corridors to Spike’s room. The Master would be overseeing the arrival of the new hostage and would arrive here shortly, he assured Buffy.

“Go back to your post,” she ordered him. “There are teams of slayers and watchers out looking for this place. Let me know if any come near here.” He nodded again and backed out of the room, relieved to be still un-living. He knew, as all the vampires here did, that Buffy Summers was the endgame and the Master had given orders that she was not to be harmed in any way. Of course, he wasn’t going to let the girl surprise his Master; he’d find Spike and let him know who was waiting for him.

But Spike hadn’t stuck around long after they brought the newest slayer in. He took the back passage to his quarters where he could sulk and rant in private. Where the hell was Buffy?, he thought to himself as he slammed open his door, repeating the thought aloud once he was inside.

^^^^^^^^^

Buffy heard footsteps in the corridor just after her guide left and realized she didn’t have time to find a proper hiding place. In the darkened room she could just make out the shape of a bed and she threw herself on the covers and struck what she hoped was a provocative pose. The door flew open with a bang.

“Where the hell are you, Slayer?”

“Right where you want me,” she ad-libbed, and had to smile when she heard a muffled curse and a click and the room flooded with light.

Spike froze when he saw Buffy reclining on his bed. He drank in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst. She was dressed entirely in black with her beautiful hair hidden under a cap. Seeing his eyes linger on top of her head, she scooted off the bed and approached him, tugging her cap off and shaking her head like an actress in a shampoo commercial.

He fell to his knees and looked up into her eyes, his face vulnerable and open.

“Buffy, is it really you? After all this time, after all I’ve been through, are you finally here?”

She placed a hand on his head, rubbing over the short hairs there. He’d had a buzz cut, and it was soft and brown. But his face was as handsome as ever. Piercing blue eyes were filled with longing and she had to be closer. Sinking to her knees, she cupped his face. “I’m right here baby, and everything’s going to be alright now.”

“I tried so hard to get to you…Angel sent me all over…”

“I know. Giles was in on it too. They’re looking for you right now. They think…”

“Yeah, the baby slayers. They’re all right Buffy. I’ve got ‘em, but they’re okay. I couldn’t think of another way…”

“You needed me to come to you.”

“That’s it. That’s it exactly.” Spike touched his forehead to Buffy’s. “I don’t know what you must be thinking right now.”

Buffy stood and pulled Spike up with her and ran her hand over his head for the second time. “I’m wondering why you cut your hair, for one,” she grinned, and led him to the bed where they both sat on the edge, hands clasped and bodies pressed together.

“Disguise. From all the vamps who want to take a shot at me.” He looked at the floor because he couldn’t bear to watch her when he told her why. But she beat him to it.

“Because you’re the Master of London.”

“Bad news travels fast, yeah?”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Didn’t intend for it to happen…”

“Tell me, Spike. Tell me all of it.” So he did. Starting with his reappearance as a ghost in Angel’s office he told of the despair and frustration he’d felt at his inability to even stay where he wanted. He spoke of the box that gave him his body back and sheepishly recounted his ill-fated liaison with Harmony, begging her to understand that he desperately needed just to be touched. He relayed his desire to surprise her in Europe and the circumstances of the inadvertent dusting that led to his current status. He mentioned the help he received from Ilona in Rome and Willy and Clem in Cleveland. He shared the anger and rage he felt towards Angel for all the misdirection and the surprising warmth of Faith’s impromptu tribute in Willy’s. And through it all, he maintained the hope that he would eventually find her and have a happy reunion.

“I never doubted you for a minute, you know,” she said. By now they were lying together giving gentle touches and reassuring caresses.

“Your belief in me is what kept me going when I wanted to give up. That was one of the best moments of my un-life – when you told me you believed in me. Stuck in that coffin in the airplane I played that over and over again in my noggin.”

“I dreamed about that – you in the coffin, and getting your head shaved. I thought I was going crazy and…oh my god! I just can’t keep my hands off it…it’s so soft!” she giggled, touching his head yet again.

“Touch all you want, luv. I can’t tell you how good that feels…Oh God!” His body arched off the bed when her hands wandered a bit farther south and began caressing his other head through his jeans. The talking had been nice, wonderful really, but this was what he’d been waiting for. To be touched and loved by the woman who’d changed his life. He’d been half hard since they lay on the bed and was fully aroused the instant she touched him. He pushed his hips into her strokes and was about to lose himself when he remembered something.

“Buffy, luv, we haven’t even kissed yet.”

“Well let’s fix that, shall we?”

The kiss was like the past half-hour had been; soft, sweet, and gentle. Buffy took in his taste and scent and realized something was different.

“You’re not smoking anymore, are you?” He’d always smelled of cigarettes, whiskey, and leather. That combination had always annoyed her at first, then took on a whole different meaning the year she used him. She’d wanted those smells and tastes to be repulsive, but there was comfort there, no matter how fervently she denied it.

The smell of tobacco did remain in the coat, which Spike had shed when they moved to the bed. He was still drinking, though, and she licked his lips to taste more. She still wouldn’t touch the stuff, not after the night of drinking they’d once shared, but diluted through him she loved it. When she finished exploring his mouth he finally responded.

“Just don’t have much of a taste for it anymore, pet.” Rolling to his side, he lifted the hem of her shirt and nuzzled her breasts through the satin of her bra. “’Sides, I can think of better things to put in my mouth.” He tugged her soft breasts out of their confinement and planted generous kisses everywhere he could reach, swiping a sneaky tongue over her nipples every so often. When he had her moaning and felt her hips pumping, he slowly wriggled his fingers under the waistband of her slacks and cupped her greedy mound.

He pressed his hand the length of her slit, through her panties, and wiggled it firmly. Buffy allowed a few moments of this sweet pressure before she kicked off her shoes and slid her pants and underwear off. Spike helped get her sweater over her head and deftly unclasped her bra. When she was finally nude, he sat up to unlace his boots but Buffy’s hand on his chest stayed his movement.

“Let me.” Her voice was low and husky and Spike shivered at the gleam in her eye. But he trusted her to be gentle this time. There was no hint of the Buffy who’d treated him so roughly in the past. She kneeled astride one of his legs and pulled his foot to her naked torso. She took her time undoing his laces, letting the ends flick her nipples as they came free of the eyelets. Spike could only groan as she slowly revealed his feet, knowing that if he touched himself now he’d shoot like a rocket. For some reason he wanted them to come together while joined in the most intimate of places. It would be a different sort of climax than they’d done in the past, but it seemed right for this time.

Tossing his boots and socks on the floor, Buffy next set about undoing his fly. She quickly opened the buttons and he tilted his hips up, allowing her to slide his jeans down his legs and off the edge of the bed. While she got rid of his pants he whipped his shirt off and he tackled her to the bed. Pressing her into the mattress he thrust his pelvis against her, sliding his cock against her cunny.

“We forgot something else, Spike,” she gasped.

“What would that be, luv?”

She framed his strong face in her hands and kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you, and you’d better believe me this time.” She then emphasized her love by taking him into her body in a single thrust.

“God, Buffy! Yes, I believe you!” He tried to pull out- he needed some control-but she wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed against him.

“You’re not going anywhere, mister.”

“I don’t want to,” he panted. “Just need to slow down a tic. I got something that needs saying, too.” She complied and they moved gently together. “I love you too, Buffy. I’m yours, heart and soul, and I’m going to do my best by you.”

“I know, baby. I know. You don’t have anything to prove anymore.” But he had one more thing to show her. Using his body, he let her know how good they could be together when they were loving. Not hating, not using, not desperate. And when they were ready to ride the wave of passion to the other side, he showed her his demon face and she nodded, offering her neck to him in one last declaration of trust and love.

TBC

Chapter 11

It took two days, but they finally found Spike’s lair. Angel and Giles had nearly come to blows several times while the Coven worked around the clock to break the magical barriers that prevented them from locating slayer energy. The location had been scouted and with the sighting of vampire guards on the doors and Willow confirming that slayers were inside, they knew they were at the right place.

The white hats struck at the break of dawn. Once the guards were staked and the door blown in, Angel dashed from the back of the van where he’d hidden from the deadly light. They blew all the doors at once to prevent escape and swarms of slayers and Watcher’s Council commandos flooded the corridors. But what should have been a relatively easy operation quickly became a disaster. The vamps, having been tipped off by calls from Lynn to Buffy were prepared, and the invaders found themselves shut out from the main floor where their objective was located.

The inner sanctum was impenetrable; Spike’s magic-users created a practically flawless barrier. They knew it would hold, but all Spike and Buffy needed was a few minutes with their two newest captives.

Giles had been found first and was quickly captured and bound before they brought him before their Master. Angel was next having been easily subdued with a spraying of Holy Water. Black hoods kept them in the dark, literally, as they were dragged through the warehouse into a large, quiet area where they were forced to their knees. High-pitched gasps and cries of exclamation meant that the young slayers were nearby. Both looked in the direction of the girls’ voices after their hoods were removed.

The young women looked well enough even though they were inside a cage, and then Angel and Giles swiveled their heads at the sound of a throat clearing. Despair hit them both with the force of a hurricane.

Two ornate chairs decorated a raised platform, and in them sat the Master of London and his Queen. They were bedecked in black leather and red silk, game-faces at the fore and ready to conduct business. Spike’s bleached slickback was gone, but he looked no less menacing in his buzz cut. Buffy, even in her vampiric visage, was still a beauty, but both Angel and Giles keenly mourned the loss of her humanity.

Buffy rose gracefully from her throne and made her way down the steps to the captives, stiletto boot heels clacking on the cement floor. She said nothing, but went first to Angel, trailing a black-lacquered nail up one shoulder, tracing his hairline, then back down the other shoulder. Doing the same to Giles, she stepped in front of him and straightened his glasses, which had slipped a bit under the hood.

“You poor, misguided souls,” she purred, emphasizing the last word as she stepped back to assess them both. “You tried so hard to protect me, but all you did was drive me straight into his arms and onto his fangs!” Spike echoed her deep chuckle but otherwise stayed silent. Buffy was more than capable of handling these two on her own.

“Now what to do with you?” she continued, tapping a finger on her lips.

“Just…just wait a minute, Buffy,” Angel tried to keep his voice from shaking. “We can get your soul back, okay? And you don’t want to do anything that you’ll regret later.”

Buffy laughed again, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“Regrets? There are no more regrets! I’m regret-free girl now, and I’m going to finally start enjoying myself.” She ran her tongue over razor-sharp fangs and moved closer to Angel.

“You bastard!” roared Giles, glaring at Spike. “How could you do this to her? You loved her!”

Buffy whipped her head around to hiss at Giles. “He didn’t do anything to me, Giles, except give me my life back. I asked him to do this.”

Some of the Slayerettes began sobbing and broke the stillness that followed Buffy’s announcement.

“No, Buffy, I know you. You’d never do something like that,” Angel pleaded.

“But I did. Tell me Giles,” she asked circling her Watcher. “How many times did I try to run away from my duty? Two, three, maybe four times? How many times did I die and get brought back?” She glanced lovingly at Spike and blew him a kiss. “Now I finally figured out a way to say goodbye.”

“Dear Lord, Buffy – I can’t believe you’d resort to letting Spike vamp you,” Giles said quietly. “It was once your worst nightmare; don’t you remember?”

“I had a lot of nightmares, Giles. And most of them came true. But this one has a happy ending, at least for Spike and me.” The older man had to look away when she smiled malevolently around her fangs. “I wouldn’t be so sure about you two. Now who gets it first?” Pointing her index finger, she chanted, “Eenie, meanie, miney, mo…”

“Buffy!” Angel barked. “I am your Sire’s Grandsire and you will listen to me. Release us immediately!” he commanded.

Buffy leaned towards him and laughed in his face. “Nice try, Peaches, but that tone of voice doesn’t work on a turned Slayer. I’m going to be unstoppable, aren’t I honey?”

“Absolutely, my deadly blood-sucking queen. You’ll be a legend,” Spike answered, unable to keep a grin off his face.

“So…again I ask: Who first?” Snaking around her two former friends, she clasped Giles around his shoulders. “I’m hungry, so I guess it’s you.” Turning to Angel, she added, “You, I’ll just stake.”

Giles’ protests died on his lips as she got behind him and wrenched his neck to the side. Angel was struggling to his feet, trying to shake off the guards holding him, yelling for Buffy to stop. Buffy moved in, got her fangs in just the right place, and bit.

Giles closed his eyes, muttering, “Just don’t turn me, please,” and waited for the darkness. Angel’s yelling and scuffling barely registered as he felt Buffy’s hair brush his shoulder and noted the breath of hot air on his neck just before she bit. Wait a minute, she shouldn’t be breathing…he heard her straighten up but the sharp teeth in his neck didn’t move.

“Hey! These things totally fell out, Spike! We should get a refund!” Giles winced as Buffy’s teeth were pulled from his flesh. He wrenched around and saw her standing there, holding her fangs and grinning at him. With her normal smile.

Angel fell to his knees and listened hard. There was only one heartbeat nearby, and that was Giles. But clearly, Buffy had not been vamped.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked as one of the minions came forward, carrying a small case. Buffy returned to her throne and the other vamp went to her, and pulling out a Q-tip and small bottle liquid, set about peeling the vamp wrinklies off Buffy’s forehead.

“I would think that’s fairly obvious, Peaches, Spike sneered.

“You faked it,” Giles said quietly.

“But I don’t hear your heartbeat, and you have no body heat,” Angel was struggling to get to his feet. “Can you untie me now, please?”

“First things first, and I’m busy right now.” Half her prosthetic was off and she winced as an eyebrow was pulled.

“Bloody hell, Spike. Do please let us up and we can talk like rational adults,” Giles nearly spat.

“Not my place to do such, Rupes. It’s the lady’s show and she’s calling the shots here.”

Buffy’s vampiric forehead finally came off and she reached into her eyes, pulling out the yellow lenses. She handed the contacts to the vampire make-up artist and spoke to the guards.

“You can let them go now.” The bonds were cut and the men began rubbing their sore wrists.

“Really Buffy, was all this necessary?” Giles began, but Buffy cut him off.

“No, it really wasn’t. But I loved watching you squirm. And to answer your question,” she said, glancing at Angel, “we do have a mage or two among our numbers here.”

“Well, you got us, okay?” Angel spat. “You got us. And if you’re done playing your little games there are more important things to talk about here.”

“More important things than my life? Like how you two wasted valuable time and resources trying to keep Spike and me apart?”

“I daresay there’s the matter of several kidnapped Slayers in that cage,” Giles commented drily.

Spike snapped his fingers and one of the guards unlocked the cage. “You’ll not find a scratch on them, Watcher. They were treated fair.” He held out his hand to Buffy as Giles called the newbies to join them. Buffy resumed her seat at Spike’s side and smiled apologetically at her sister slayers. Katya gave her a smart little wink and Buffy nodded her head toward the younger girl. Katya had been instrumental in keeping the girls from panicking during their captivity. She’d told the girls that Buffy had a plan and none of them would be harmed, no matter what they saw or heard.

“Spike would like to apologize for kidnapping all of you. Right, Spike?” She nudged him gently with her elbow.

“Not really, pet. My plan worked, didn’t it? Can’t be sorry for that. If any should be sorry it’s these two berks. They had the unlimited resources of White Hats, LLC and Evil, Incorporated at their disposal, sending us hither and yon. I had to make do with the proceeds from selling one measly car.”

“A car you stole from my company,” Angel growled.

“I figured I was due payment for services rendered, Boss-man.”

“Enough!” barked Giles. “There’s more than enough blame to go around, so let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? You, Spike, are now the Master of London and we must know your intent. There is also the small matter of the state of your soul.”

Spike scowled. “I’m not sure why my soul is anyone’s business but my own. If I’m good enough for Buffy, then that’s all you need to know.”

“You pledged loyalty to Hedrick, then killed him. You took over as Master and have set up a court. What are we supposed to think?”

“If you’d done your homework, Angel, then you’d know that there has been no increase in murders since Spike took over. The min...” they hated being called minions; “the court only drinks the bagged stuff or animal.”

Angel scoffed loudly while Giles sputtered, “That’s impossible! Do you mean to tell me that every, single vampire in this building refrains from killing humans?”

“It’s the truth, Rupert. You can ask Angel. There are vamps like this in every major city, mostly in Europe. Not every vamp wants to bring about hell on earth or kill a slayer.”

“Be that as it may, and I find it highly doubtful, we still need to know what your…what this organization’s goals are. Buffy’s feelings aside, if evil is being perpetrated then we will intervene.”

“Bloody hell! Peaches is in evil up to his giant forehead and you’re completely in league with him! I just wanted to find Buffy and I get the Spanish bloody Inquisition!”

“I am in league with no one..” Giles protested.

“Just answer the question, Spike” Angel demanded.

Buffy stroked Spike’s arm. “Tell them and maybe they’ll leave.”

“Well, I sodding don’t know, do I? Everything I’ve done these past few weeks was to find you.” He looked at the other men, smirk firmly in place. “And now she’s here. So what can a Slayer and a vampire with a soul do for kicks? Maybe we’ll start some kind of agency. A ‘Help the Helpless’ kind of deal, since that gig is open now.”

“You’re telling me that the Master Vampire of London is going to continue the mission,” Angel scoffed.

“Damn right, Angel. It’s what we’ve been doing.”

“You know damn well that you’re going to be under constant attack.”

“Did you get some of that nancy-boy hair gel in your ears, you Neanderthal? I repeat: We’re taking care of it. The challengers, the mission, all of it.”

“And I’m going to be part of it, Giles,” Buffy added. I think the vamps and the slayers could work together on this…” she was interrupted by a coughing sound by Spike and gave him a piercing glare. “We could probably work together…occasionally.” When she got raised eyebrows from all 3 men she threw up her arms.

“Whatever! No matter that I will ever trust you two again,” and this time her glare was focused on Angel and Giles, “but I have finally made peace with my destiny and the work I do with the slayers. As much as you have done to help us,” she said directly to her former watcher, “I can’t trust you anymore. And I’m not sure where to go from here. I want to help with training and go on missions and fight the bad guys, but I will no longer take orders from you.”

She next leveled her steely gaze at Angel.

“And you. We may not know what the hell you’re doing at Wolfram and Hart, but that doesn’t mean we’ve turned a blind eye toward you. If Angelus so much as peeks out from that glass tower of yours, he’s dust.” She stopped to take a breath and closed her eyes for a moment, holding up a finger when she heard the first protestations from their lips. She looked at Angel again, but spoke more softly.

“There’s so much more I want to say to you about souls and good deeds, and fighting the good fight but I don’t think you’d listen. I’m not sure you’re listening to anyone these days and I see trouble on your horizon.”

“We’re going to fight evil from the inside, though!” he said indignantly.

“And I’ve got a bridge to sell you over some land in Florida if you really believe that, Angel.”

“Well Buffy, I’d say you made yourself perfectly clear. We may never all agree on how to fight evil, but we are, at the least, in the fight.” He cleared his throat. I assume you’ll be staying in touch through Dawn or Willow?” His famous British reserve was holding up, but Buffy could detect a slight tremor in his voice as he realized their relationship was irrevocably damaged.

“I will. They’ve probably been briefed by now – Lynn and Amber were in on this with me and they were going to tell the others.” She and Spike rose from their seats, and it was impossible not to see the symmetry of their motions. Even Angel had to admit that they were a perfect fit, but he couldn’t resist one last dig.

“Are you sure you really want to stay here, Buffy? Living in a warehouse? It’s beneath you.” He could barely suppress a smirk when he saw Spike’s face cloud over. But then he saw the tenderness with which Buffy touched her mate’s furrowed brow and stroked down his cheek and he knew he’d lost her for sure.

“It doesn’t matter where we live. A crypt, a penthouse suite, a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence; as long as we’re together that’s all that matters.”

“I thought that you couldn’t see yourself with Spike in the future,” Angel, desperate, threw out.

“A girl’s allowed to change her mind, isn’t she?” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Now it’s time for you all to go. Spike and I have a lot of lost time to make up.” She was surprised that her heart didn’t ache as she watched two of her closest friends walk out the door, and told Spike as much. “I guess I’m all grown up now, aren’t I?” she stated, looking eagerly at her lover. I actually feel free for the first time since I became a Slayer.” Neither of them noticed the diminishing presence of vampires in the room as they drew into each other’s arms.

“You are free, Buffy,” Spike said softly as he caressed her face with his lips. “You can be as responsible or irresponsible as you want, and I’ll be with you all the way.” His hand found its way under her shirt to stroke the soft skin of her back and she was starting to unfasten his belt when they were interrupted.

“Get a room,” a female voice spoke.

TBC

Chapter 12

Dawn and Willow had found their way to the main room after they heard what Buffy was planning, and were able to enter when the magical barrier was lifted as Giles and Angel left with the slayers. Buffy sighed and prepared to go one more round with two people who were probably very upset with her.

“Want me to shoo them away, luv?” Spike asked, sensing her tension.

“No, that’s okay. Let’s just get it over with.” Grasping Spike’s hand for support, she greeted her sister and best friend. “Hey, guys.”

“I guess we missed the show, Willow,” Dawn said nonchalantly. “Too bad. I would have liked to see Buffy with fangs and bumpies. And getting scared half to death and worrying about my only sister and wondering where she was for 2 days was so much FUN!” she nearly screamed. “I might have had a heart attack seeing her as a vampire and that would have felt just GREAT!” Willow placed a gentle hand on Dawn’s forearm, but the young girl shook it off. “And it’s perfectly okay to let two strangers in on it, but not your own sister? The one who would worry the most? Why am I not surprised that Spike is a bad influence on you?”

“That’s enough Dawn.” Buffy’s voice was firm and clear. “Willow would never have been able keep it secret. I love you, Wills, but you sing like a canary when you’ve got a big secret. And Dawn, you’re almost as bad as she is. We needed the complete element of surprise on our side to make it work.”

“So you pulled a big ol’ trick on Angel and Giles, letting them think Spike vamped you. Very funny. We were worried Buffy! This is so selfish of you! And mean! I hope he’s worth it Buffy, because you pretty much alienated a bunch of people today.” Having said her piece, Dawn visibly deflated and wiped away a few tears with the back of her hand. Buffy hurried to her and Dawn let her sister draw her into a hug.

“I know, Dawnie, I know. I’m sorry if you and Willow feel betrayed or left out. But imagine how angry I was that Angel and Giles deliberately kept Spike and I from each other. I needed to make a huge scene so it would finally be clear to them how important he is to me.” Smiling at her vamp, she beckoned him over. “And don’t blame Spike for any of this. It was all my idea.”

“Kidnapping the slayers wasn’t,” Dawn pouted.

“He had to get my attention, Dawn, and it worked. The girls weren’t hurt at all, just a little confused and scared.”

“It’s hard to believe one of my sodding plans finally worked, eh Slayer?” Spike grinned.

“Well, kinda off subject here, but gee, Spike, you had some strong magic on this place. Where did you get that kind of power?” Willow was bursting at the seams with curiosity. She and the coven had tried everything they could think of to find Buffy and the other girls, then they’d run into the impenetrable barriers around Spike’s lair.

“I’ve got some old vamps with me Red, old and powerful. They mostly kept a low profile over the decades and were glad to see their mojo was still working.”

“They must be some kind of powerful alright. They might be dangerous though, don’t you think?”

“Not everyone who has great power is seduced by it, Red,” Spike said pointedly, causing heat to rush to Willow’s cheeks. “And not all demons are automatically bad. I think your lot has been slowly figuring that out over the years. Now that you’re in an older part of the world you might run across more of these old and powerful demons. Or you might not – there’s a reason they’ve managed to stay alive all these years. But that’s a chat best saved for another time. Buffy and I want to make sure you know you are both welcome here. And we want you to stay with us, at least Dawn. There’s plenty of room.”

“Yeah, right,” scoffed Dawn. “You seriously think your little sister would be safe around all these vampires.”

“I do, Dawn, or we wouldn’t have asked.”

“Why can’t Spike come and live with us?” The needy little girl inside of her popped out, unbidden until Dawn forced her away again. “Assuming that I’d approve such a thing.”

“I think it would be a bit awkward for the Master of London to live at the Slayer Training Academy,” Buffy laughed.

“You’re not going to give up being Master?” asked Willow.

Spike shook his head. “As much as I hate to admit it, and you’ll never hear this coming from me again, but Angel does have a point in working at Wolfram & Hart. Sometimes evil is best fought from the belly of the beast.”

“Don’t I get any say at all?” queried Dawn. “I shouldn’t have to feel unsafe when I go to bed at night.”

“You’re technically still a minor child, Dawn, and you’re supposed to stay with me. But it’s your choice. There are other girls your age at the Academy and they do well enough. But I really want you with me. And this place isn’t so bad. Besides, Spike is really whipping these guys into shape. He thinks we might be able to do some travelling. And even though I’m through with Giles, I’m still available for Slayer business.”

“So you really cut all ties with him?” asked Willow.

“I did,” replied Buffy. “I trust him with the mission, but I don’t trust him with me.”

The group stayed quiet after Buffy’s declaration, then Dawn broke the silence with a huffy sigh.

“There’d better be enough room for all my stuff. And you , buster!” she growled, jabbing a finger in Spike’s direction. “I’m not sure how I feel about you yet, but if Buffy trusts you, then I do, too. You’d just better be able to keep us in the lifestyle to which we’ve become accustomed.”

“Which is what?” the vampire snarked back. “Watcher chic?”

“You’re one to talk!” Dawn retorted. “Who’s ever seen a vampire with a buzz cut? And you are so getting me one of those,” she said, point towards the thrones.

“Of course, Princess. We’ll get you a cute little chair, paint it pink, and put it next to Buffy’s.”

Willow slipped closer to Buffy as Spike chased Dawn out of his throne. Dawn shrieked and the chase was on. She led him around the room, laughing, as he followed her in game face, never quite catching her.

“I think she’s finally made up with him, Willow,” Buffy smiled indulgently at the antics of her sister and lover. “It would have made living all together tough if she held onto that grudge.

“Will you really be happy here, Buffy?” Willow asked. “I can see that you’re happy to be with Spike, but I want to make sure you’re here for the right reasons, and not just because you’re mad at Giles.”

“Like I told Spike, as long as we’re together that’s all we need. He searched around the world for me, Wills, and he’s willing to follow me anywhere. But I’ll never have to worry about where home is, because it’ll always be where we are.

And with that the Slayer tapped her old friend lightly on the shoulder and whispered, “Tag – you’re it.” The walls of the non-descript warehouse echoed with the shrieks and laughter of a happy family, glad to be together no matter where in the world they might be.

The End