Chapter notes: Hi, guys, and girls. Well, I'm back! I know it's been a while, but my life has been anything but calm as of late, and I haven't had the spare time that I had when I first started this. Anyway, firstly, the point of this is to say that, no matter what, I'm gonna finish this. This will NOT become a story that is left unfinished. I WILL stick with this until it's done. And I want to take the time to thank everyone who's given me a review or a comment. They all mean a lot, I promise.
Secondly, this chapter is dedicated to PaganBaby, who started me on this path to begin with. Her stories are awesome, and they're what inspired me to have a go myself. If you haven't already, you REALLY need to go and have a read of like, EVERYTHING that she's written! The second dedication goes out to Passion4Spike, for being the best beta I could have asked for! Without her, this story would be an utter grammatical disaster! So giving with her time and her opinions and suggestions. I am truly blessed to have them both helping and supporting me.
Right, well, that's the important stuff out the way, the only other thing to say is that, of course I don't own anything, and the characters are definitely not mine. And for the record, the sword techniques described herein are indeed inspired by interpretations of the seven forms of Lightsabre combat by people more skilled and knowledgeable than I in that particular area of martial arts. No copyright infringement is intended and this is done purely for entertainment.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Buffy walked into the Magic Box with Dawn and Joyce in tow, apparently catching Giles and Spike in the middle of a rather heated debriefing session about last night's patrol. The five days since the... 'unpleasantness' had been relatively calm, or, at least as calm as could be expected. The emotional toll had been heavy on everyone, including Spike, but that was mainly because of the girls, and their reactions to Xander's words and actions.
Still, the world hadn't stopped. The Earth had kept spinning and life still needed living.
The arrangements for Spike's new home had been all but finalised, and he had taken possession of his place, fully furnished. A few personal items still needed to be purchased, but for all intents and purposes, it was fully equipped for both his and Buffy's needs, the latter being the most important in Spike's estimation. All that was necessary now was for Buffy to pack up whatever it was that she wanted to leave at Spike's place, for those occasions that she would be staying the night, and move it over there.
“Yes, I'm bloody well sure. There were no Kyokani anywhere to be seen. Did a sweep of five cemeteries, didn't I? Came up with nothing except a few fledges, one vamp that had a little more in him, and a Storivan demon. Oh, and I'm fine, by the way, thanks for askin'!” Spike added the final sentence with a scoff.
Giles proceeded as if he hadn't heard the last part, in fact, he seemed to proceed as if he hadn't heard Spike at all. “Really, Spike, we need to be quite certain. The time for their ritual of immolation is approaching quickly, less than a week in fact, so we must be sure that none of them intend to use the hell-mouth to intensify the effects of said ritual. Now, are you certain that you didn't see-”
“For the last bloody time, Giles, there were no fu-”
“AHEM!”
The sudden intervention, as it were, from Buffy caused Spike to pause mid-tirade, and glance in the direction of the noise. Upon seeing her and Joyce sporting amused, if tight, expressions, and Dawn smiling broadly, he adjusted his language, but his defiant and blunt attitude remained the same as ever, even with the presence of his surrogate family. Releasing a sigh born from long-suffering, he began again, every word tight, clipped, and controlled. ''Once again, Watcher, there were NO Kyokani.”
It was obvious that Giles was about to press his luck by interrupting again, and as a result, Spike's control finally went the way of the Dodo.
“FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GILES! Kyokani are twelve feet tall and weigh fifty fucking stone! I think if I saw one, I would have noticed!”
The shop was silent for a beat or two, but then Spike pressed on, his frustration boiling over. “Y'know what? I'm done! You can forget the debriefing sessions, I've had enough. I'll do my patrols, and still patrol with Buffy when she wants or lets me, but you and me? We're finished! I don't need this, you gormless tit! Need I remind you that I know more about the demons in Sunnydale than you do?! That I know more about demon species in general than you do?! I do this as a courtesy, cos you're the Slayer's so-called Watcher and I figured that ya needed t' know, but seeing as you're a thick, arrogant wanker, either unwilling or unable to take my word for what goes on, I'm done! Got it?”
With a swirl of black leather, his coat fanning out in a flat wave as he spun away from the agog Watcher, he walked with swiftness to the Summers family. Before she could bat his hand away, he gave Dawn a good hair-ruffling and gave Joyce an apologetic smile and a peck on the cheek as well as a quick, quiet apology for his language. He then gently grasped Buffy by the face, cupping her cheeks softly in his hands and looking into her eyes for a moment, before pulling her into a bone melting kiss of passion, power, lust and love.
Things started forcefully, lips and tongues battling for dominance, before becoming a little more delicate. Once it was clear that the two of them would be engaged for some time, Joyce muttered an amused, “Hi, Spike” as she shooed Dawn further into the shop, towards a visibly blustering Giles who was in the process of cleaning his glasses rather thoroughly. Joyce pulled up a chair and took a seat to wait for her daughter to once again rejoin the world, such as it was.
“Really! Well, I don't think there was cause for that outburst. Joyce, I ask, was that strictly necessary?”
“I think you can count yourself lucky that you managed to get away with just an outburst. Another sign of Spike's self-control when confronted with a difficult or frustrating situation, I think,” Joyce replied, somewhat amused.
Yet more blustering from the Watcher was cut short by a glare from Mrs. Summers. “And need I remind you that I don't have a chip?”
A deep growl rippled through the room, causing some of the smaller objects on the shelves to rattle and shiver slightly. Spike had heard the exchange between Joyce and Giles, and was clearly not amused. He paused in his endeavours to give Buffy an orgasm from just kissing her, and pulled back, taking in the scene unfolding in the shop before him. “And need I remind you of what happened to the last person that... upset Joyce? I'm fairly certain you were there. It didn't end well for him, or any of them for that matter, if you recall, so I would be very careful in your choice of words and tone, Watcher. Chip be dammed!”
Buffy really wanted to intervene at this point on behalf of her mother, but she was having a serious problem. The deep, full throated growl that had swept through the shop had also swept through her body, vibrating her insides and, it seemed, turned her channel into a slippery cavern that was pumping out her essence at a phenomenal rate. She was slick with need and her panties were wet, squishy, and warm between her legs. Her clit was throbbing in a staccato rhythm that matched her thudding heartbeat and her walls were clenching and unclenching, searching for something to grip, to squeeze, to mould themselves around. Never-mind Spike trying to make her cum from just kissing her, it seemed that he could do it just by growling! Her Slayer was at once purring with contentment at her current position in Spike's arms, and howling in frustrated need that she didn't have Spike's cock inside her, filling her body.
Since the news that Spike's home was now a reality, Buffy's libido had been eagerly pressing at her to move in straight away and make a start with the bedroom Olympics! And her Slayer side had been no help whatsoever. Ever since her little revelation to Xander about what her and Spike might be getting up to, it seemed her imagination, or rather that of the Slayer's, had latched onto the idea that Buffy had put forward in the single hope of provoking Xander into a physical reaction. Her newest fantasies still involved Buffy on her hands and knees, with Spike behind her, but now, Spike was sliding smoothly and deeply into her ass! She'd never even thought about anal sex before, it was just something that had never entered her mind, but now, the thought of it was so... … adult... so... ... taboo, that she couldn't shake it, much to her Slayer's delight. And, it seemed, that even Buffy herself was warming to the idea, as it were. The thoughts she'd indulged in earlier in the week, about having Spike cum inside her were still present, only now she wanted Spike to unload his cream in her ass, filling the deepest part of her body. The thoughts of sharing something so intimate with someone were truly amazing to her. Not to mention hot! Her pussy gave another, particularly strong clench at this thought, and it was all she could do to stifle the moan that the thoughts and images were causing.
Some small part of Buffy's brain sensed the need to break things up immediately, if only to preserve her dignity in front of her mother! Taking action, she pulled back, slightly away from Spike, and dragged him towards the training room while trying to regain her composure and catch her breath.
“C'mon, Spike, let's go train. Maybe... I don't know... maybe you could show me some of those sword moves you were using a little while ago?”
Spike caught the pleading look in Buffy's eyes. She was obviously anxious to put an end to this situation before it escalated into something more between him, her Watcher, and everyone else in the room.
“Uh... yeah, sure, pet. Sounds brilliant. C'mon, Nibblet, you can watch, and offer some bad advice.”
Dawn rose, giving Spike a playful hip bump when she drew level with him and proceeded to follow them into the other room, leaving Joyce and Giles alone.
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Giles was just about to start his posturing again when the bell over the door tinkled, this time signalling the arrival of Willow and Tara, both of whom were smiling, and giggling conspiratorially, at least they were until they took in the faces of the other two occupants of the shop.
“Hi, Giles, Joyce. Uhh... everything OK?” Willow asked, somewhat timidly, unsurprising given the look on the Watchers face.
Stepping in before he could answer, Joyce quickly addressed the young couple. “Everything's fine, Willow, Tara. How are you both?”
“We're fine Mrs. ... Mrs. Summers, thank you for asking.”
“Tara, how many times? Please, call me Joyce, won't you? 'Mrs. Summers' makes me feel old.” There was no venom in her tone, and she added in a small smile to try and encourage the shy young lady in front of her.
Tara smiled back and then dipped her head and nodded shyly, her eyes on the floor, her long hair falling over her face. “I'll try and remember, Mrs. Summ- uh, Joyce.”
“That's better. Now, what are you ladies doing here on such a fine day? Surely you should be out having fun rather than cooped up inside?”
Willow spoke as the couple moved further into the shop, taking seats at the research table which, for once, was devoid of books open on various pages. The days since Glory's defeat had been quiet, at least by Sunnydale's standards. Yes, there were still vamps that needed dusting, and the odd demon here and there that needed slaying, but, it seemed as though Spike's threat to the single survivor of the failed attack on Joyce had done its job. Most of the trouble-makers in town had decided to keep a low profile, at least for the time being.
“Actually, we're here to see Buffy. We were wondering if she wanted a day out in the park, or maybe the coffee shop? We're kinda at a loose end just now. Our lives of excitement seem to have hit a dry spell and, well, kinda bored,” Willow admitted.
A snort came from the direction of the watcher. ''Bloody typical. If the world isn't ending, the children get restless. Honestly, what has happened to attention spans over the last twenty years? It seems as though nobody has the capability to entertain themselves any more. It's all instant gratification these days. Honestly, what has the world... come... ... to? Yes? Why are you all looking at me like that?''
“Giles, how about engaging some of that British reserve and keeping your opinions to yourself? There's nothing wrong with the girls wanting to have a nice day out. After all, what's the point in fighting to protect the world if they don't get to enjoy it once in a while? Hmmm?”
Yet more huffing followed, particularly something about 'children needing to read a good book nowadays', as Giles made his way behind the counter and opened a large ledger and began perusing the sales figures for the month so far. With Anya's absence, having given her some time off to get herself settled in the small apartment that she had managed to find, the burdens of the everyday running of the shop fell on him. 'Best to make a start on things, I suppose, and leave the ladies to their chatting.'
Conversation flowed easily between the group for a good fifteen or twenty minutes, Joyce having explained that Buffy, Spike and Dawn were currently in the training room, until, with a sudden and unexpected fury, a black shape came flying through said room's door, turning the once solid obstacle into kindling on its way.
Joyce let out a surprised gasp, but it was eclipsed by the shriek of Dawn, who, as yet unseen, was obviously still on the opposite side of the wall.
“SPIKE!!”
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Spike followed Buffy into the training room, and then walked past her to the weapon's rack, picking up a wooden Bokken for him, and a dull training Katana for her. Whirling them in a flourish of wrist spins, both in front of, and behind him, to check the weight and grip of the weapons, he noticed Dawn's curious, if tight, expression at Spike's choice.
“S'OK, Nibblet, just a precaution is all. Buffy'll have to cut m' head off t' kill me with this, and I won't hurt her with the wooden one. It's just in case we have a cock-up, and seeing as I'm gonna be teaching Buffy something new, best to be careful, yeah? Now, you move over there, and stay back, got it?” Spike gestured to the side of the room, so Dawn would be well out of the way of the soon-to-be whirling weapons.
Throwing Buffy the Katana, Spike stood in the middle of the room, facing her, his Bokken held downwards in his hand, the 'blade' tip resting on the floor in front of his feet.
“You ready, then, kitten?”
Buffy smiled, and spun the sword, as Spike had done, a few times, clearly ready, at least in her mind.
Without warning, Spike's 'sword' came up in a powerful strike, catching hers at the vertical portion of her sweep. The strong horizontal slash, aimed at the very tip of her blade, ripped it from her grasp and sent it flying away, only to impale itself in the training dummy along the far wall. The grip swaying slightly as it protruded out of the dummy's head.
“What the hell?” Buffy was shocked, to say the least. She hadn't seen it coming at all. One second the sword was in her hand, the next, the dummy had a piercing in a place that really wouldn't catch on!
“First lesson, pet. Form one, or Shii-Cho, good for disarming opponents.” Spike couldn't help but look a little pleased with himself. Buffy was clearly surprised, and though she wouldn't admit it, maybe, just a little impressed.
Retrieving her weapon, she proceeded to launch her attack at Spike, who easily deflected her blows, while speaking calmly.
“See, form one is the very basics. No fancy moves, just practicality in its application. And, in a pinch, it can be thought of as a fall back option when the other forms don't seem to cut it. Rather than ponce about with fancy twirls and stuff, just cut to the heart of it all, y'know? Strike and parry, attack and defend. Identify your target points, and, if you want to end it that way, disarm your opponent. That's the thinking behind it, apparently. At least according to Nick.”
From the way that he was talking, it was clear that while Dawn could hear him, the words were most definitely intended for Buffy's ears. He kept it up even as Buffy increased the ferocity of her assault, trying to outmanoeuvre him, and when that didn't work, she tried brute strength. At the same time, however, she was trying to understand what Spike was describing, and it was working. She could see what he meant by the move-set being basic, but functional. He had a simple counter to every one of her moves. A horizontal block to a vertical attack and a vertical block to a horizontal one.
As she continued to press, Spike started to falter, and finally, as he was pressed back, he disengaged, and slid back a couple of steps. Raising his free hand, he signalled for a pause.
“Now we come to its limitations, pet. It's very good against multiple opponents, 'cos it's got wide, broad sweeps, so it gives you a lot of room to work in, but it's not all that great at one-on-one combat. Kinda lacks precision when you're fighting someone who knows what they're doing. If you get good at it though, you can counter that weakness, given enough skill. You wanna go again, and I'll show you?”
Buffy nodded. She was intrigued, and she had to admit, enjoying herself. It was fun to talk shop with Spike, especially when he apparently had so much to teach her. Maybe, with enough practice, she could get to be as good as he was, and that would only ever be a good thing when it came to the pair of them patrolling.
He took a step forwards, and was back in range, so they resumed the fight, their weapons flashing around them, and this time, Buffy felt herself on the back foot.
While Spike was right about the moves being simple, they were most certainly effective, and he hadn't been lying about the skill countering the form's weakness. His moves were unpredictable and flowing, able to chain strikes and parries together to keep up a barrage of moves. Again and again, he pressed, an attack at her side would then lead to a strike at her lower body, which in turn would be redirected to one at her head, and then back to her side. It was hard for her to keep up, her weapon vibrating in her hand with every impact, until finally, after a minute or two of back and forth, the sound of wood against metal ringing thorough the room, Buffy made a mistake.
She aimed a vertical blow at Spike's head, akin to a Kendo overhand chop, the aim to split him in two, but Spike sidestepped, allowed her strike to descend, and then brought his blade down onto the back of hers as it reached the bottom of her swing. The impact, with its placement at the tip of her blade, allowed the grip to act as a fulcrum, and the leverage it exerted once again ripped the weapon from her grasp, which went spinning straight up. Spike's hand shot forwards and plucked it cleanly out of the air by the hilt, and done! The fight was over. Spike held both weapons, while Buffy stood there,breathing heavily and slightly agog at the skilful manoeuvre.
Swaggering towards her slowly, just a couple of steps, he leaned in, kissed her lightly on the lips, and then pulled back. “I win.” He threw in a cheeky wink and a smirk, which was met with a definite girl-y giggle from Buffy.
'Oh my god, I just giggled! Me! The Slayer! Just giggled at getting beat by a vamp!' Buffy shook herself out of her thoughts and regarded the smiling blond in front of her. Once again, it hit home to her just how much Spike had played during their previous bouts and encounters. And she was surprised to find herself feeling... proud. This gorgeous creature, this man, this warrior, was hers for the taking. All that strength and skill and knowledge and power, her equal in every way, well, except knowledge, 'cos Spike sure had her beat there(!), was hers to have.
Spike had started speaking, so she focused her attention on him once again.
“Right then, pet, you ready for form two?”
With that, he handed the sword back to her, hilt first, and took a step back, all the while keeping his eyes locked on her.
“Now, form two, or Makashi, was supposed to be created to counter the weaknesses of form one, so it's very good at single combat. Very precise in its blade-work, and very good at protecting ones weapon against disarming strikes. It focuses on parries and ripostes, manipulating your opponent into a position that is advantageous to you. Its only real weakness is it's very vulnerable to forms with a lot of kinetic energy, which we'll get to later. It's also not so good against multiple opponents, but with a good degree of skill, this can be compensated for. So, you up for it? Fancy a go?”
Spike raised his weapon in front of his face, the 'blade' angled upwards and the spun it through a flourish that ended with the weapon being held low on his left side, the blade pointed down at forty five degrees out to his left.
Buffy smiled at his seemingly calm, almost playful demeanour, and then, without warning, charged at him, reaching him in a single stride and began her assault. Much to her chagrin, however, Spike met her blow for blow. His blade spun in a blur, connecting with and re-directing hers, all the while lashing out at her with light cuts and short, sharp jabs and stabbing motions.
Again and again, she would attack, and again and again Spike would defend, giving ground when it was necessary, and taking it back when he could.
As inexperienced as she was, she was able to sort of understand what he meant about the form and what he was doing with it. It was clearly geared towards precision, as not a single move was wasted, either on an attack, a light slash or stab, or a deliberate strike to her side, be it left or right, to force her to change her direction of travel to being straight in front of Spike. She was being hemmed in, forced to focus all her efforts on a frontal assault, trying to match him in blade-work, where Makashi excelled. The focus on in-line travel, footwork, and the fluidity of its moves allowed Spike, once again, to control the fight and dictate its direction and ferocity.
It also seemed to not be lacking in defence either, as Spike was able to masterfully absorb and re-direct all of her strikes with clear ease. When possible, a straight block was favoured, but as the form was unable to absorb a lot of kinetic energy, Spike was also focusing a lot of his movement on meeting Buffy's strikes as quickly as he could, taking them high in the arc of her swing, and using the whole length of his blade to shift their direction of travel around and away from him. This allowed him to stay relatively aggressive and fluid, while simply re-directing Buffy's energy into deflected strikes that posed no danger.
Once again, the battle went back and forth, Spike dragging the contest out, trying to show Buffy by action what the form was all about. After a few minutes, Spike decided that enough was enough, and brought things to a conclusion. Rotating his body ninety degrees to the right, presenting his left side, Buffy took the bait that Spike had offered, and aimed a slash at his back. Reversing his grip, bringing the blade running up his arm instead of straight out from his hand, he brought it back, behind himself, and intercepted her strike with his upturned blade, then, rotating his body quickly back to his original, forward-facing stance, he added an upward strike, still in a reverse grip, that caught Buffy's bade as it bounced off his behind-the-back block. The impact sent her blade upwards, opening her body and leaving her vulnerable. With a simple spin and a horizontal slash, he aimed for her neck in what would have been a clean decapitation, but stopped his blade a few millimetres from its target. This session was over, Spike once again victorious.
“Right then, that's form two. I reckon it's one of the better forms to master, and, when paired with the next one, makes you pretty damn good in a fight.”
Raising his weapon, this time holding it out at waist height, the 'blade' angled towards her slightly, Spike took an easy, balanced stance and waited. The message was clear: “Attack me.”
Buffy didn't disappoint, once again unleashing a barrage of strikes upon Spike and his weapon.
This time, Spike gave ground, allowing Buffy to press him back. As she unleashed a ferocious barrage of strikes upon him, Spike began talking, once again in that calm and controlled tone that revealed the fact that, when it came to defending himself from Buffy's onslaught, he really wasn't being pushed all that hard.
“Now then, pet, here we have form three, or Soresu. 'Ave to say, in my opinion, one of the best to learn and become practised in, as it'll allow you to learn more simply by the virtue of keepin' you breathing! It's purely defensive, nothing flash or brash about it, just plain and simple defence.”
Much like Makashi previously, there were no big, bold strikes, just tight, energy efficient moves, Spike's weapon staying close in to his body, keeping it under control at all times. This, paired with some subtle body shifts and Spike's amazing reflexes, allowed him to take everything that Buffy threw at him seemingly untroubled. Lots of little dodges and positional transitions allowed him to evade the strikes that he didn't intercept with his blade, and, like Makashi again, those that he did intercept were taken high in the arc of Buffy's swing and re-directed around his body. Finally, with a very definite step, Spike stopped his backwards movement, and simply stood his ground, allowing Buffy's attacks to break upon him like water on rock. That was the value of Soresu, as Spike pointed out.
“'Ere's the thing, Buffy, with Soresu, ya got a few things to consider when learning it. It's said that, if mastered and understood, a practitioner is invincible and can dictate any engagement, allowing the fight to play out to his or her plan, but it's not without its vulnerabilities eh?
“Doesn't have anything going for it when you want to go on the offence, so you have to pair it with somethin' that does. I reckon Makashi is my first choice, but there are others, which we'll get to, eventually. It's perfect for the long haul, as it's so energy efficient, which makes it easier to control the engagement and end it as you will, be it a kill or a disarmament.
“Could also think of it in a pinch as being your first response to a surprise, which gives you time to think, or as a last resort to simply survive. Personally? I would take what I like from Soresu and Makashi, and possibly some stuff from Djem-So, which we haven't gotten to yet, and come up with a blend, or hybridisation, of the three to suit what I need. Still, it can't be underestimated how useful Soresu is, especially if, for example, you're not really trying to kill your opponent, just stop or subdue them, y'know?”
All the while that Spike had been speaking, the fight had continued, parry after parry, strike after strike, dodge after dodge. This is the strength of Soresu. Total defence. Nothing wasted, just calculated strength and speed, always just enough for what is needed. Spike was well and truly in control of the sparring session, that much was obvious. Every now and again, he would suddenly lash out with an instant and accurate counter attack to one of her strikes, the movement fluid and woven into the defensive web that he was creating around himself. It certainly was a little out of place, so much so that even Buffy was able to notice. Notice, but not anticipate, so she had to do her best to react as well as she could. Seeing her struggle on several occasions to match him, he gave her a short explanation.
“That's the Djem-So influence, those counters? That's one of its signatures. Fast and fluid offence mixed with a solid defence, but we'll get to that another time. For now... I think... we'll... call... this... done!”
Just as the word 'done' left his mouth, Spike stepped in under Buffy's guard, their bodies almost touching, as he took her blade straight onto his. Using her momentum, he redirected the blade over his head, while bringing his 'blade' down along the length of hers, at the same time as adding a spin to his movement. The result being that Spike, his back now to her front, had his 'blade' and body in-between Buffy and her weapon, his 'blade' pressing on the back of hers near the hilt. A quick shove with his free hand to the bottom of his grip for a little extra leverage and Buffy's Katana went spinning away, leaving her, once again, defenceless.
Turning to face her, his grin ever present, he called out without changing his eye-line, “Nibblet, close your eyes, OK?”.
Not waiting for a reply, Spike sealed his lips over Buffy's and proceeded to kiss her soundly, but gently, exploring the cavern of her mouth with his tongue, when it wasn't battling hers for dominance in a mini version of the duels that had just taken place.
Buffy closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the kiss, not worrying about anything else, letting the world fall away until it was just the pair of them in this room. Nothing else existed, just their little world that they both lived in for those moments.
It should have been no surprise that, in the next moment Spike was, well, taken by surprise! (pun intended!) One moment he's kissing the lady he loves with all his un-beating heart, and the next he's sliding along the floor of the Magic Box, having 'opened' the door from the training room by reducing it to matchsticks!
He heard Dawn's cry as he came to a stop, and saw for the first time his attacker, who was stalking through the now open doorway and out into the shop.
“Oh, bloody hell! Really? Now?”
Spike regained his feet just as the hulking, Neanderthal-like form of Angel became visible to everyone. There was instant commotion, voices all shouting and calling, footsteps of both Dawn and Buffy, who had taken a second to process what had just happened, chasing to catch up.
She, like Spike, was completely taken by surprise when, out of nowhere, she was kissing thin air. Opening her eyes, she had just caught Spike's form disappearing through the door-frame followed by a mass of black moving after it.
The Slayer made it into the shop a second behind the figure and was just about to make a move and stop the intruder when her vamp-tinglies allowed her to identify said intruder. Stifling a groan of frustration, or annoyance, or maybe even anger cost her another second or two, which allowed a couple of actions to unfold which froze everyone in place.
The first being that Joyce had stood and taken a step towards Spike, a stake appearing in her hand as if by either magic or telekinesis. The second, however, was even more shocking.
Tara was on her feet the moment that Spike had broken through the door and was almost to his side by the time that he stopped sliding along the floor. As such, her position was not too dissimilar to that of Spike's, and so she was able to identify the attacker more quickly than everyone else in the room.
Making a move to put herself between Angel and Spike, she spoke a single phrase, in what sounded to Spike like Latin, and all of a sudden her hands, clenched in fists down at her sides were enveloped in flames: bright, golden flames that started at her fingers and worked their way up to just past her wrists.
Add to that the sound of her voice, cold and authoritative, and she was quite the sight to behold. Seemingly enough for Angel to suddenly realise the threat that she now posed, and certainly one that made Spike's heart grow a little for the timid girl who now stood in front of him, trying to protect him.
The room froze. Silence reigned for a beat or two, and then it was broken.
“Take one more step, Angel, and I will kill you.”
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