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~*~

Even before they were halfway there, Buffy knew they were too late.

Well, okay, she didn’t know; unlike that freaky bitch Drusilla, she wasn’t clairvoyant. But she felt something at the pit of her stomach, a distinct sinking that she could only attribute to one thing.

“Spike,” she whispered. “They’re…they’re hurting.”

Spike nodded. “When we get them out,” he remarked almost lightly, “’m gonna have to drive Giles utterly carrot-top by beggin’ him for explanation. Why the bloody hell do all ‘f us suddenly have so many arcane connections?”

Buffy shrugged. “It could have something to do with the inherent wonkeyness of the Hellmouth,” she suggested, her eyes still scanning the darkness. It had turned into something of a paranoia for her; surely Angelus wouldn’t just let them come?

“True,” Spike agreed, gripping his axe a bit tighter. Sensing something, luv?

No, she replied, tense eyes scanning the darkness. But I wasn’t sensing anything earlier, either, and look where that got us.

Right, then. Suddenly Spike stiffened. Behind us, luv. Twenty of ‘em.

How do you do that? Buffy demanded, impressed in spite of herself.

He smirked. Training, luv. ‘s all part of the training. He tossed her a stake, which she caught and stuck in her belt. Reckon they’ll be attacking any minute now.

I’m using the sword, she shot back.

Don’t like the idea of my girl being under-armed, is all, he replied, sugary innocence almost dripping her in her mind.

She snorted aloud. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

“Don’t you know it, baby.”

“They’re right behind us, aren’t they?”

“Yep.”

Grimly, Buffy dove to the ground. A vampire leapt over her. Drawing her sword, she jumped up and slashed at another one. Spike was swinging his axe in a wide arc, decapitating two at once.

Her eyes narrowed. Oh, no you don’t. There was no way his body—or dust—count was going to be higher than hers. She’d never hear the end of it.

She leapt up and dealt a back kick to one vampire while her sword sliced the head off of another. Grinning at the subsequent cloud of dust, she grabbed her stake from her pocket and sent it through the chest of the one she’d kicked.

Two down, eighteen to go.

The fight was long, but not particularly difficult. Either Angelus was getting sloppy or he wasn’t trying to kill them, because when the last vampire settled around them in a cloud of dust, both Buffy and Spike were barely breathing hard.

“So…he’s at the mansion, right?” Buffy asked calmly, resheathing her sword.

“Far as I can tell, yeah. His aura’s getting stronger every minute.”

Buffy pouted. “Lucky you, getting to feel auras and stuff.”

“You could too, if you weren’t lazy,” he teased.

She smiled—but again, it was a strained smile. In the back of both their minds was the image of Giles’s finger, and the worry that they were going to be too late.

Almost instinctively, they moved closer together. Buffy had to fight the shivers that always began when he was so close. It was probably wrong on several different levels to turn into a total slut when they were headed into mortal danger, but…if the Powers wanted her to be all good and focused and whatnot, then they should have given her a less hot slay-buddy!

Slay-buddy. God, she knew that she was cracking when she started coming up with funky phrases like that.

When Spike reached out to catch her hand, Buffy reached out and eagerly tangled her fingers with his. He sent her an amused look—one that was quelled when she said, It’s just nice to have something to hold on to, you know?

I know.

They were silent for the rest of the walk. Both felt a kind of deep sense of panic as they neared the mansion. They’d slain hundreds of vampires each, but Angelus was a new breed. The others had killed to live, but Angelus lived to kill.

It scared them both.

When the mansion came into view, Spike gave Buffy’s hand a last squeeze before releasing her. When she threw him a questioning look he explained, “Can’t have us distracted, luv. If the poofter’s gonna throw any more of his minions at us, it’ll be here.”

“Oh, right,” the other Slayer said quickly. “I knew that.”

The corner of Spike’s mouth quirked upwards in an almost-smile. “’course you did, luv,” he drawled.

“I did!” Buffy insisted.

“Sh.” Spike abruptly flung out a hand. Buffy grew silent and listened carefully. Footsteps?

Comin’ from the left side ‘f the house. Bet they’re waitin’ for us to get a little closer b’fore they jump us.

Dorks, Buffy grumbled. Okay, let’s go right. At Spike’s questioning look she added, There’s a side entrance.

And you know this…how?

Believe me when I say you don’t want to know.

Right, then. Let’s go.

They crept across the lawn and over to the right side of the house. About twenty feet in, there was a very small door. Crouching down, Buffy grasped the knob, praying that it would turn.

It did. They slipped inside and found themselves in a narrow hallway. Both their Slayer senses instantly went crazy, screaming vampire! in a thousand different directions. Buffy found herself shuddering under the weight of it. How are we supposed to find Angelus in all this?

Concentrate. The word echoed in her brain as though Spike had somehow penetrated more of her mind than usual…and why why why were naughty thoughts coming up at that image? Gah!

Spike, apparently unaware of her sudden turmoil, continued, Angelus is so strong that he’ll have a unique signature. Concentrate an’ you oughta be able to find it.

Buffy screwed her eyes shut. Dammit. Concentration had never been her strong point…she just plain wasn’t smart enough for it. Why did she get the feeling Spike had been the kind of kid who’d rather read a book than go outside and play?

Wait. Stop. Concentrate. Angelus was here somewhere…and he had Jenny…was, in fact, threatening her…

That did the trick. Buffy felt her senses sharpen, homing in on a presence she now felt acutely. It was pain, it was malignance, it was evil—and it was hers.

Remember, she said to Spike. No matter how bad I look, no matter how much it looks like I’m losing, get them out. Okay? I need to know that you won’t try to help me.

She could feel his reluctance, his mistrust of her ability to fight off a creature sure as Angelus. But in the end he sighed almost inaudibly. Right then, pet. Let’s take this bastard down.

~*~

A/N: I suck. Suck suck suckity suck suck. That’s my way of saying that my muse or my brain or whatever helps me write fics has completely abandoned me with this one. Don’t worry, it’ll come back…eventually. Hopefully the four days I’m about to spend in IL will help…and I promise to have an update when I get back =) Thanks for all the support I’ve been getting!





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