Over the summer, Willow tried unsuccessfully to locate Spike and Drusilla. Every time she tried to do the locator spell, the entire map of the South American continent started glowing like an obscene beacon. The little witch was not pleased. As powerful as she was, she couldn't narrow down the search. The insane vampiress had obviously listened to the pixies, and rather than cloaking them and placing wards up - which Willow could have easily blasted through - the calculating bitch had done a diffusion spell, leaving the redhead without enough energy in one spot for her own spell to latch onto. It was totally pissing her off!
Cordelia and Joyce tried to keep Buffy busy and focused, but her grief and guilt almost smothered her. She had tried so hard. No matter how many times she went over it in her head, she couldn't find a way to save him. He had been missing for sixty two days and she was no closer to finding him than she had been the day he went missing. She knew Willow was trying her best, but the inaction was slowly killing the guilt-ridden slayer.
Giles was the one that finally got through to Buffy. He reminded her of the prophecy in the Codex and how Spike was described as ‘a broken enemy - healed'. He berated her for her defeatist attitude and manipulated her masterfully by indicating that Spike would be highly unimpressed and not fail to call her on it. The Slayer's memories of a deserted house and the speech which ended in her being ‘the One', for an entirely different reason that her sacred calling buoyed her mood. However, the smug look on the face of her watcher had her scowling with displeasure. Stupid smarty pants.
Galvanized into action, the tiny powerhouse decided that heading to L.A. with the rest of the returnees to take down the Hell dimension linked to the Family Home Shelter was the best thing to do next. Motion of any kind was better than what she had been doing for the previous two months as far as she was concerned.
The demons didn't know what hit them. Between an upgraded slayer, a half angel, and a cranky witch, Family Home shelter was put out of business -permanently.
Buffy looked in askance to her friend when Cordelia suggested that they visit someone she knew from her time, but the brunette just smiled and requested the blonde trust her.
"This place has a sanctuary spell on it; there will be no attacking the other customers, Buffy," Cordelia ordered as she made her way down the steps to the club.
Buffy frowned deeply, but followed anyway. Giles, Joyce, and Willow trailed behind them. The Slayer's eyes widened in shock before the first giggle escaped her. The sight of a huge Fyarl demon singing Culture Club's ‘Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?' had her almost weeping in hysteria.
"Welcome to Caritas," a garishly dressed demon offered enthusiastically. "I'm your host."
"Alex Trebek?" Willow asked with a giggle.
The host grinned as the little redhead before focusing on the still laughing slayer. Tilting his head to the side, an amused smile ghosting across his features, he turned back to the others. "What's with Giggling Gertie?"
"I believe it would be something to do with the Fyral's choice of song," Giles answered as he gazed indulgently at the sight of the daughter of his heart laughing with abandon. It was a sight he saw much too rarely.
Cordelia surreptitiously studied her old friend. He looked good. Guided by an internal urging, the brunette seer grabbed his arm and thus his attention before humming a Celine Dion classic.
Lorne's eyes widened with amazement and not a little confusion. "How ‘bout I get you all settled, then we can talk," he suggested decisively, ushering them to a long table at the rear of the club.
When they had finally all taken their seats, Lorne turned to Cordelia, "Okay, gorgeous, care to explain to me why a group of immortals that include a seer for the Powers have come to visit little old me?"
~*~*~
The three unlikely companions carefully went over their plans for the umpteenth time. The one in charge of the planning was the only one of the group with full intel, while his two soldiers happily followed his direction. They had a mission to complete and they were all united in their belief that they could not fail. They had higher-ups that they would have to face eventually and at least two of them knew the consequences of failure. They needed the vampire.
~*~*~
Buffy didn't know how to feel.
Cordelia had made the tiny blonde sing and then Lorne, their host, had shared with the group what he had seen.
"You're doing fine, sweetcheeks. Your boy has to face some stuff on his own, but he'll be back. You can't fight his battles for him; he needs to do that himself." Lorne's compassionate features took on a stern cast as he continued, "You've already managed to reach one side of him, but you still need to capture the heart of the other side. You have to fight him. It's the only way you can fight for him. You have to earn his respect, he already has yours."
Buffy bit at her lower lip, she felt like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her memories flashed before her eyes with one in particular standing out from the rest; her beating Spike to a pulp in an alley outside the police station. She never wanted to hurt him again, but from what she was hearing, she may not have much of a choice.
As Buffy wallowed in her morbid thoughts, Cordelia glanced around the room and gasped when she noticed the man seated at the counter nursing a glass filled with amber liquid. Not bothering to tell her companions what she was doing, the stunning brunette quickly stood and made her way to the bar.
Ignoring the man, Cordelia asked the bartender for a pen and a piece of paper. She jotted down her note and then faced the man that was openly ogling her.
"This is my phone number," she announced as she thrust the paper into his hand. "First things first; you're mine, so get used to it. Second; divorce Harriet, ‘cause I am so not into sharing. Third..." she broke off, grinned, and then kissed the surprised man with all she was worth. Breaking the kiss, she smiled smugly at the stunned man. "Cordelia Chase, Seer for the Slayer and intended mate for one half Brachen demon named Allen Francis Doyle," she advised as she introduced herself before turning to rejoin her friends. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back at him. "Remember, diamonds are a girl's best friend."
As she regally returned to her seat, Joyce pulled her gaze from the still stunned man at the bar and laughed softly. "Oh, sweetie, what did you do to him?"
~*~*~
"Spike?" a male voice whispered from the window above the blond vampire. "Can you hear me, buddy?"
"Who are you?" Spike demanded, keeping his voice low. It wouldn't' do for the others in the house to hear him. Drusilla's punishment for breaking the rules would come swiftly. The voice pricked at his memories. Something about it sounded familiar.
"Explanations later, Spike. We don't have much time. That is...you do want to get out of there, right?" the voice asked carefully as if suddenly unsure.
For the first time in a very long time the vampire felt excitement shake off his despondency, that is, until the reality of the situation hit him. He snarled in frustration. "'Course I bloody want to get out, but it's daylight out there and I'm combustible, not to mention crippled," he ground out with impotent fury, punching his legs angrily.
"It's just your legs that are the problem though, right?" the unnamed male queried.
Spike frowned in consternation. JUST? Seemed like a bloody big problem to him. "Yeah? So?"
"So...no problem!" the voice answered cheerfully. "Hold on."
Spike listened to the sounds of movement outside the window, his superior hearing discerning at least two people. Letting out his senses further, he heard the distinct heartbeat from one. A demon and human working together? What the bloody hell was going on here?
The bright sunlight that had filled most of the room was suddenly blacked out and two green arms with loose skin came through the window above the seated vampire. "Grab on," the disembodied voice instructed Spike.
‘What the hell,' Spike thought philosophically as he reached for the offered arms. Anything was better than his present situation.
Spike felt himself lifted then dragged through the window and under a heavy tarpaulin that had been fastened to the top of the window at one end and the back of a van at the other. The tinted glass of the van windows told the vampire that his sun allergy had been taken into consideration. As the demon that held him helped him manoeuvrer himself into a comfortable position on one of the bench seats, Spike took a good look at him. He seemed familiar. "Do I know you?"
The demon smiled shyly. "We played kitten poker together at Willy's in Sunnydale."
A light went off in the vampire's head. "Oh, right, um, Clem?"
Clem nodded happily.
"So how did you know about...?" Spike waved his hand in the direction of the window.
Clem smiled and pointed to one of the two humans seated at the front of the van.
Spike tilted his head and studied them, he was sure he'd never seen either before. "Why?"
"Let's just say that in another life you saved me and that I owed you," the driver announced before gunning the engine and ordering Clem to close the back doors to the van.
The second human looked more of a boy than a man as he bounced happily on his seat. "It's just like the rescue of Luke Skywalker from the evil clutches of Darth Vader."
"Andrew, if you make one more Star Wars analogy I'm gonna let Spike eat you!" the driver chastised as Clem hurried to offer the clearly malnourished vampire a bag of human from one of the cooler's.
"Who are you people?" Spike demanded in tired confusion.
"The geek with the Star Wars fetish is Andrew Wells."
Okay, that meant absolutely nothing to him. "And you?" the vampire persisted as his eyes grew heavy.
"I am one Alexander LaVelle Harris, Xander to my friends. One of whom would be Miss Buffy Anne Summers - Slayer extraordinaire."
‘Bloody hell! The slayer sent in the cavalry for me,' he thought in awe as he drifted off into a healing sleep.
Xander glanced back at the sleeping vampire and smiled. He really couldn't wait to see Buffy's face when she discovered what they had done. He just hoped it would be enough to let her forgive him for everything he'd done wrong in their original timeline. Thanking the Powers for his second chance, Xander headed the van home. Now all they had to worry about was that the documents Andrew had forged for Spike would be enough to get them through customs. Maybe Clem's ‘skin condition' would be enough to distract them into not looking too closely.