Peking 1900

August...

There was another explosion and a rush of heat as more fires flared up around him. People were still screaming. It was a wonder their vocal chords hadn't been worn out by now. Clods of dirt leaped up from the ground and rose into the smoky, dust filled air as more cannon balls shattered the earth's surface. Spike couldn't keep the smile off his face as he took in the carnage around him. This was fun.

As much as he was enjoying the Rebellion, Spike had something more pressing to attend to than picking off the frightened citizens. Somewhere out here was a girl. A very special girl, and he had no doubts that she was right in the thick of this mess. Spike had left Drusilla and the others to their fun, claiming he wanted to take in the sights. After all, it wasn't every day you found yourself in the middle of an uprising, and being in China was a bonus. He knew telling them the truth would only lead to Angelus lecturing him again, throwing mocking insults and eventually deciding to tag along to see Spike get what he deserved. The last thing Spike wanted was to have Angelus around ruining the mood. He intended this to be his finest battle, and his git of a grandsire wasn't going to interfere.

When they'd arrived in China he hadn't thought it would be all that different from any other country they'd visited in the last twenty years. He hadn't been out of Europe before, so he'd supposed it might have something to offer. He never much cared where they travelled to. Their plans tended to revolve around Darla's whims. She grew bored with their surroundings after a few weeks and was always pressing Angelus to take her somewhere new, somewhere more exciting and unique. Angelus gave in to her desires and after a brief argument would grudgingly inform them that they would be leaving for wherever took his fancy the next night.

After making a kill one night, Spike had run into a demon who warned him of the Slayer's presence. Contrary to most demons and vamps Spike didn't want to stay out of her way. Thanking the demon for passing on the message, Spike stabbed him with one of his own long horns, after snapping the appendage off the thing's head. He'd then set about tracking down the elusive Slayer and made hunting her his project before Darla could decide it was time for them to move on again.

He stormed through the streets purposefully, his head whipping from left to right, ignoring the explosions and the flying debris. Turning a corner he came to an abrupt halt. There was a young girl in front of him. Terrified and bewildered she was spinning in circles, her hands over her ears trying to block out the deafening noise, tears streaming down her face while she wailed for what Spike assumed was help. He hadn't bothered to learn the language. It wasn't as if he needed to ask for anything, he just had to take what he wanted. Fangs first, questions never as Angelus' saying went.

He walked forward slowly. He was ten feet from her before she even noticed him, her panic was that great. She started when she saw him and took a step back, uncertain of this foreigner. He smiled at her, taking another few steps forward. His senses perked up at the faintest presence behind him. He turned slightly in that direction, his smile growing before returning his attention to the girl. It was time to lay the bait.

He shifted into his vampire features and roared at the girl. As predicted she screamed and tried to flee. He darted after her. He was close enough to reach out and grab her when something barreled into him, sending him flying off to the side. He hit the ground, rolled and shot back to his feet in one swift maneuver.

"And there you are," he said, grinning wildly around his fangs.

There she was indeed. The Slayer was crouched before him in a catlike stance. One leg bent, the other stretched wide, her right hand holding her intricately carved stake up in the air behind her, and her left spread on the ground maintaining her balance. She was like a tigress protecting a cub as she placed herself between him and his potential prey, allowing the girl to stumble off into the chaos of Peking mid-riot. The Slayer was dressed in leather, her hair drawn into a long black braid that reached her lower back.

He looked her over once, liking what he saw. She was small, but clearly agile, and he didn't doubt her strength for a second. Another cannonball smashed into a nearby building and splinters and chunks of stone rained down beside them. This wouldn't do. He wanted someplace more fitting for this fight. He chuckled and, beckoning her forward, took off running back the way he'd come.

He knew she was following. He could feel her. His senses were warning him of the threat closing in on him. She was fast, just as he knew she'd be. He kept his speed even, not a full out sprint, but fast enough to make her work for it. He wasn't trying to escape, not after all the trouble he'd gone to trying to find her.

Now he had her. He spotted his destination up ahead, a temple he had passed earlier. Large jade dragon statues stood outside the entrance, guarding the sacred site. Spike decided it would be the perfect place to spill some Slayer blood. He increased his speed, racing past the statues and weaving between the large pillars dominating the temple. When he reached the large inner sanctum, he slowed to a halt, scanning his surroundings. This would do.

He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths to ease his excitement. His senses prickled and he opened his eyes. Slowly, he turned and looked over his shoulder. There she was, standing in the doorway, her shoulders rising and falling steadily as she breathed in and out. She wasn't out of breath but the sprint had brought her adrenaline to new heights and if he concentrated really hard, blocking out the sounds outside, he could hear her heart beating furiously. He could dance to that beat.

"I've been looking for you, Slayer," Spike said, drawing out the word Slayer.

She stared fixedly at him. He guessed she didn't speak English, but reckoned her reaction would be the same even if she did. This one just screamed discipline.

"Right then, no chit chat. Let's get right down to it, shall we?"

Spike snarled and shot forward, aiming a fist at her head. She ducked and spun, kicking him in the stomach. He stumbled back a few steps, and barely managed to regain his balance when she leapt towards him, fists flying.

This was different from what he was used to. She had moves. Spike could fight, but he wasn't adept at the kung fu strategy she was unleashing. She alternated between fists and feet, spinning, whirling, ducking, and jumping. She advanced swiftly on him, until he was struggling to block the flurry of blows.

Bending so far backwards that her hair brushed the dusty ground, she struck upwards with her right foot and hit him in the face. His lip split, and he tasted his own blood. He staggered backwards, arms flailing to prevent himself falling. When he found his feet again he had to spin around quickly to confront her as she darted around him. The stake had vanished and instead she'd produced a sword which she held in her right hand, slashing it impressively at the air, the steel singing as it danced around her. She ended the display in the crane stance, one foot raised, balancing against the other, her hand held forward, and the sword raised above her head pointing directly at him. She was a truly threatening figure.

Spike decided he needed to change his style. Roaring, he came at her again, this time with a spinning kick of his own. He succeeded in hitting her in the face, making her spin, and followed it with a punch which she managed to block with her arm. She brought the sword around, aiming for his neck, but he dropped to his knees and rolled, coming up behind her. She spun, aiming another kick at him which he blocked, punching her in the face, sending her head flying back.

He lunged in, fangs extended at the sight of her exposed throat, but she recovered and threw her body forward, bending over so he missed. She brought her foot up behind her, hitting him in the face again. She straightened and kicked him, in the chest this time, and he slammed into the solid pillar behind him.

Spike snarled. When she swung at him with the sword again, he dodged sideways and kicked her in the back so that she fell forward onto the pillar. He grabbed her shirt and threw her backwards onto the ground. The momentum carried her forward, but she was back on her feet instantly. He swung at her again, but she ducked. Her tiny fist shot up and connected with his nose, dazing him for an instant. She came at him with the sword again, spinning from left to right so fast he had no idea which side the strike would come from. She came up just short of his face, making him gasp before a speedy flick of her wrist brought metal against flesh, slicing his left eyebrow open.

Blood trickled down into his eye and Spike laughed. This was what he was hoping for. This was a real fight, a true battle between warriors.

She seemed insulted by his enthusiasm and cartwheeled, her feet striking him a solid blow that sent him reeling back again. He didn't care. He was full of adrenaline. This was an enemy he could fear. He was at death's door, but so was she.

"Just like I pictured it. This good for you?" he asked, bouncing on his toes with excitement and anticipation.

The sword again. She jumped mid swing, defying her smaller stature in an attempt to take his head off. She brought it down firmly and he sidestepped. Dropping low, she spun, attempting to remove his legs but he jumped over the deathly blade. She continued her spin as she came up, the sword heading for his chest as he landed back on the ground. He was ready and grabbed her arm, halting the attack. She kicked him backwards again, but he hit a dragon statue which bought him a moment.

She pushed forward, arcing the sword for another strike. He continued to dodge. She was a blur, but he was catching on to her movements. When she spun again, he readied himself. The sword came from his left. He sidestepped, grabbing her arm and forcing her forward, their combined strength driving the sword into the legs of a dragon statue. She shouted at the sight of the blade disappearing into the carving. He punched her and she fell sideways, crying out in pain.

He advanced, but she regained her confidence, using her body as a weapon. She aimed high kicks and solid punches his way, some of them landing directly on target, making him grunt and shout in pain. When her fist came at his face again he grabbed it, keeping it in a vice-like grip. Once more her foot rose to his face, making him release her.

They were face to face for a second before she backed away. Spike roared and followed her. She was hesitating now and it angered him. He kicked her, then punched left and right. He aimed another right hook at her, but she ducked and he missed. She kicked his back and he fell forward onto a stone pillar. He turned to see her pressed against the pillar opposite, one elbow wedged against it as her leg came up, her foot pinning him against the pillar by his throat. He grabbed her foot but couldn't remove it, the pressure she was forcing on him too great.

Her right hand emerged from under her shirt, revealing the sharp stake she'd had earlier. She raised it above her head and Spike's eyes widened. This was it. He was dust.

The stake came down. It was inches from his chest when an explosion blew open the shuttered window behind them. The force of the blast knocked the Slayer sideways. Spike didn't waste his chance. He twisted her foot and moved away from the wall, pushing forward so she tumbled onto the ground. She was soon on her feet again and ducked his follow up punch. He groaned when she kicked him in the midsection but raised his arms to block the next strike of her stake. Yanking her arm down, he kicked at it, and the weapon flew out of her grasp and clattered to the floor a few feet away. She spun again, elbowing him in the face and knocking him back. Quickly, she located her stake and bent to retrieve it.

That was his cue. He darted forward and snatched her hand before it could grab the lethal piece of wood. He forced her arm upwards, ducked and spun underneath it so he was behind her, her arm painfully wrenched behind her back at an awkward angle. She winced and whimpered in agony. His other arm wrapped around her chest and he forced her back against him.

Not wasting a second more, he lunged for her neck, burying his fangs into the soft flesh, her blood rushing into his eager mouth. The surge of power he felt at the first taste of the coppery fluid drove him mad and he pulled in huge mouthfuls, gulping her blood down as though dying from thirst. He drank his fill. With a primal, satisfied roar he pried his fangs from her neck, ripping the flesh, and panted for air. His body was pumped with adrenaline and stolen Slayer blood.

Slowly, she turned her head to him. Curious, he jerked her around in his arms so they were face to face. She whispered something to him, her eyes showing she was resigned to her fate. She was giving him her final message. That was her mistake. He wasn't noble. He wouldn't deliver her words to her loved ones if that's what they were. He had stolen her life, and now he would keep her dying words a secret, forever. Besides…

"Sorry, luv. I don't speak Chinese."

Her eyes closed and he tossed her to the ground where she lay motionless, while he grew accustomed to the sensations coursing through his undead body. The strength flowing through him was unbelievable. He flexed his fists, marveling at the surge of power. The cut above his eye was stinging like hell but he couldn't care less right now. He licked his lips, making sure not to waste any of the precious elixir. His first taste of Slayer blood.

"A fella could get used to this," he commented.

Spike cocked his head and looked at the small dark shape on the ground. The girl was young, he doubted if she was even eighteen yet, but she was a bloody killing marvel. She'd slain a lot of notoriously vicious demons and prevented an apocalypse or two, the last of which had triggered this Rebellion. He supposed not even she could prevent evil done by humans, not when she was sworn to protect them.

Failed though, didn't you, ducks? One reckless young vampire defeated you. I wonder why that is?

Spike squatted down next to her, moving her braid away from her face. She looked so delicate now, and peaceful. His face returned to its human form.

That's it then. You can rest now, can't you? You were called to protect the world but you were just too damn tired to keep it up. No rest for the wicked.

Spike stood again, sniffing once in dismissal of those last thoughts.

No rest for the good either, until you give up. Here's hoping the next bird has a bit more life in her than you did.

"Look at the wonderful mess you've made."

Spike recognized Dru's voice but didn't bother turning around. He wondered briefly how she'd found him, then cast those queries aside. She always found him. She'd never let him get too far away.

"That's a Slayer you've done in. Naughty, wicked, Spike." There was a command in her voice.

He turned to her. One long, delicate arm was raised slowly in his direction, beckoning him to her. He obeyed, walking steadily over to his sire. He looked down into her eyes. The normally blue irises had become black pools in the red glow of the temple. Studying her, he felt suddenly stronger, the demon within screamed for dominance. She was his sire, but she was also his mate. He snaked one arm behind her waist and roughly pulled her against him, making her gasp at his sudden demand. His thirst for violence and bloodshed fulfilled, a new desire made itself known, and Spike intended to take what he wanted.

"Did you ever hear them say, the blood of a Slayer is a powerful aphrodisiac?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Her hands came up to his shoulders and she gazed longingly at the red stain about his mouth before her gaze flickered to his eyes. She took up his habit of breathing, panting desperately. He knew his display was turning her on. Power and brutality attracted his Dark Princess, and she appeared prouder of him in this moment than she ever had. Spike decided this must have been one of the wonderfully terrible things he was destined for. She wanted him, her Black Prince, and for the first time, she wanted only him. Her eyes told him that at this moment Angelus was a distant memory.

"Here now," he whispered seductively, raising a bloodstained finger in front of her face, "have a taste."

Her velvety tongue slipped out to savor his offering and she hummed happily at the flavor. Her lips wrapped around his finger drawing the digit into her mouth as far as the knuckle. She sucked in her cheeks and let her lips glide back up as she removed the coppery treat from his skin. The sight flared his desire for her even more. The demon took over and lifted its mate in the air, slamming her against a pillar and making her gasp again in surprise. Slowly, he lowered her down, allowing the length of her body to glide against his. Her hands came up to his neck and she pulled him to her. They kissed passionately, and she began to claw at his clothing. He leaned back and chuckled at her eagerness, allowing her to pull his braces down and tear open his shirt before she drew him back to her again. They fell to the floor as their need took over.

***

Spike had almost forgotten about the Rebellion until they finally made their way outside again. The endorphins running through his system had dulled the sounds outside the temple, and he barely noticed the vibrations when the earth shook from the constant explosions. The couple staggered through the streets as if drunk, giddy from their tryst in the temple. Dru came up short suddenly and Spike bumped into her with a chuckle. Turning slightly, he saw why she'd stopped. Angelus and Darla were standing in front of them.

"You two look as if you've been enjoying yourselves," Darla said, holding on to Angelus' arm.

"May I tell?" Dru asked Spike, eagerly.

The question made Angelus' eyebrows shoot up and he suddenly grew very interested in Spike. Smiling to himself, Spike leaned in closer to Dru and answered.

"No need to be humble, luv."

"My little Spike just killed himself a Slayer," Dru announced, practically jumping on the spot, her blue eyes shining and a broad grin on her face.

Spike leant his head against hers and turned to face his grandsires, leering at them. Angelus' eyes flicked up and down, observing Spike as if checking that it was the same vampire standing before him. He looked extremely pissed.

"Did you hear that?" Darla asked Angelus in disbelief.

Spike smirked. He'd finally done something that shocked and impressed the old bitch instead of just pissing her off.

"Congratulations," Angelus said, menacingly, "I guess that makes you one of us."

Spike punched him in the shoulder.

"No need to be bitter old man. One Slayer dies another rises. You'll still have your chance. How 'bout I give you first crack at the next one, eh?"

Angelus maintained his spiteful glare, refusing to rise to the bait. Spike grinned, one of them. Where in the history books was Angelus' name associated with a Slayer's death or Darla's or Dru's? Spike was the first of their line to kill a Slayer, but at least he'd earned whatever passed as respect from his elders now. Maybe, Angelus would quit lecturing him, though he sincerely doubted it.

"This Rebellion's startin' to bore me," Angelus complained. "Let's get out of here."

He stalked off leaving the rest of them to follow. Drusilla rubbed up against Spike like a cat, purring. He growled and grabbed her from behind then spun them and they followed after Angelus and Darla, laughing together as they went. He couldn't care less where Angelus took them next. So caught up in his mirth, Spike almost didn't notice when Darla leaned in closer to Angelus, whispering to him. Perking up, knowing she was talking about him when she glanced over her shoulder, he managed to pick up a few hushed words despite the noise around them.

"…time…should meet…finally ready, worthy to…use him, always looking for…serve him well."

Spike couldn't be sure what they were discussing exactly, but it sounded like Darla was suggesting they introduce him to someone. From the way Angelus was looking at her, it seemed that meeting whoever it was could be a very real possibility. Angelus seemed to waver for a moment. Casting a quick glance back at Spike, who pretended to remain oblivious to their conversation, Angelus gave one quick nod before fixing his gaze straight ahead again. Darla seemed satisfied, smiling to herself and taking Angelus' arm again.

Figuring it was worth a shot in the dark, Spike leaned in to place his mouth next to Dru's ear.

"Any idea what happens next, lamb?"

Drusilla did a little twirl, facing him and clutching his hands in hers.

"Now we go on a trip. Prince and Princess are going to visit the King and you'll be a real Knight my brave, beautiful Slayer of Slayers."

She smiled, skipping away. He ran to catch up and scooped her up in his arms, making her squeal. Darla and Angelus looked back at them and quickly turned away again. Such affectionate sights sickened them. Spike kissed Dru and spun around with her in his arms before carrying on after the other two.

"Slayer of Slayers? Mmm, I like that. Seems I've got a title of my own now," he said a little louder, knowing Angelus could hear him, confirming it when he saw the vampire's back stiffen.

Spike laughed again. He could definitely get used to this. He felt at one with his demon. Right here, right now, in the middle of a rebellion in Peking, surrounded by his sire and the grandsires that scorned him, he had done something remarkable. He'd ended the life of a Slayer. He had set in action a new chain of events. Somewhere in the world another girl was being called. Spike knew the likelihood of ever running into another Slayer was minimal, but he was sure that if he did, he wouldn't run from her. No, just like this one, he'd seek her out and they'd have a fight to the death.

"My boy's found his calling," Dru smiled up at him, stroking his cheek so he looked down at her. "You exist for the Slayer now," she added.

Suddenly, a shadow seemed to pass over her face. She frowned as though troubled and turned away from him crossly.

"Pet?" Spike asked, confused by the swift change in her mood.

"No. I won't allow it," she muttered, annoyed.

"Won't allow what? Dru?" Spike was even more confused.

"Put me down, Spike."

Frowning, he did as she asked, setting her gently down on her feet. She thanked him and walked ahead quickly. Spike stared after her then followed, wondering what was bothering her.

"Sunshine won't have him," Drusilla muttered.

Spike sighed. He rolled his eyes wondering how Angelus could think that Spike understood Dru. He caught her meaning now and again, and perhaps he was a little more perceptive than Angelus when it came to her riddles, but she existed in her own head half the time, and that was a place into which he was unwilling to venture.