This story takes place at the near end of the most recent season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's my donation to Luba's newest sub archive, the Crypt. All of the various characters appearing within belong to their respective companies.

Extra thanks to Luba for beta'ing and advice.

As always, thoughts, comments and flames are always welcomed. Hope you like it.

The vampiric being know to most of the supernatural world as Spike raced his motorcycle madly down the night shrouded and empty highway, the high pitched whine of the engine almost lost in the surrounding silence.

But his mind was anything but silent. It roiled and screamed within him, warning him of what was to come. Spike ignored it as he'd ignored it so many times before. The consequences of his actions had never mattered to him. At least they never had...

Until now.

The hate in Buffy Summer's eyes and in her voice following their last 'encounter' had rocked him as very few things had ever had, shaken him to the core of his nonexistent soul. It had set off a rage within him he'd never felt before.

But never again. He knew what to do now, what he should have done before.

The slayer would get what she had coming.

The road raced beneath him.

...At least until the engine began to act up, that is.

It coughted and sputtered as the cycle slowed its progress. 'Bloodly 'ell' he thought, 'I'm outta gas!?!'

As he came to a stop, Spike indulged himself in a nonstop five minute spree of the foulest curses known on three different planes of existence.

Until he noticed a small gas station and rest stop just down the highway.

"Well, well..." he said out loud, "My luck's changing." Getting off his cycle he began to push it forward. "And maybe I can get me a fresh pack of fags too." he said as he lit his last cigarette and took a long draw.

Ten minutes later Spike rolled his bike up to the petrol pump.

Only, no one came out to provide the kind of cheerful service he'd gotten from the Sunnydale gas stations -- fill your tank and fill your stomach, all in one stop.

"Ah well," he said, "Guess it's self serve."

Unfortunately the pump was one of those that had to be activated from within the station's garage or whatnot. For a moment Spike considered just pulling the hose right out of its locking mechanism but that would likely break the damned thing and leave him sponging the petrol off the ground.

Assuming it didn't blow up in his face.

That would have been an amusing way to spend the night, but he was pressed for time. He was just going to have to swallow his pride and pay for a tank full.

'Bloody hell.'

Turning, Spike began to walk toward the garage. Only then did he notice the collection of heavy duty motorcycles lined up next to it. Somebody or somebodies had some very good taste in road hogs.

It was only after that that he noticed the scent. A vampire's sense of smell was just as good as a dog's, even better when it came to smelling blood.

But it wasn't blood he'd scented.

"Bollocks!"

It was demons.

And he knew what kind. The same kind that had rampaged throught Sunnydale that night that... that... that twit witch Willow brought Buffy back from the dead.

Out of heaven.

Spike stood there, lost in his memories, then pulled out the cigarette stub from his mouth and threw it down to the ground. Grinding it into the dirt with his boot heel he growled and continued walking toward the garage.

None of that perticular batch of demons had made it out of Sunnydale alive, and Spike had no feelings one way or the other concerning any other members of that lineage of demons. He just wanted gas for his bike. If they gave it to him then no problem, if not.... Then he'd just knock some heads about till they decided otherwise.

But as he counted just how many bikes were lined up over there he realized that that was a hell of a lot of heads to knock about.

'Guess I'm paying after all.'

However, as he walked up to the door, what Spike heard through the walls brightened his mood and outlook considerably. The demons were clearly in a party mood -- they sounded quite happy and pleased with themselves and happy demons, he knew, were always easier to deal with. At least he was always easier when he was happy. With luck they'd even give him a break on the gas.

'Night's not getting any longer, Spike, old boy. Time to get down to business.' Cracking his knuckles he then opened the door and walked in.

Into one of the more..... interesting sights he'd ever had the pleasure to witness.

The demons had all stopped and turned toward him but he ignored them for the moment to gaze with rapted enjoyment at the garage's unique.... chandelier. Two young women were suspended in the middle of the garage halfway between the floor and roof by means of a chain whose ends were bound around each girl and looped over several overhead rafters.

And not just any chains, but magic chains which crackled with mystic energies. Now where, he wondered, had this bunch scored an artifact like that.

"You've made a bad mistake coming in here, human," growled one of the demons as they began to advance on him, "And your last!"

"Hold on there, mates," replied Spike calmly, as he put on his 'other' face.

"Hmmph!" said one, "A vampire. What do you want?"

"No worries, mates," returned Spike as he walked past the demons to get a closer look at -- given the girls' intact condition -- their recent acquisition. "My bike's gone a bit dry and I was looking to get a fill up."

A wide-fanged grin filled his face as he took in the view. "And maybe take in the sights too if'in you don't mind."

A spat of laughter came in response as he circled the two girls, giving them a good looking over.

Because, he had to admit, they required it.

And it was fun too.

One of them was a tall, very good looking blonde with a fetish for cutoff black leathers and lots of straps and buckles. Lots. He wondered how long it took her to get dressed every morning.

She was also sporting several empty holsters on her hips. Very nice hips too.

'Blimey,' he thought, 'An honest to god gun bunny. Guess I have seen it all now.'

She was returning his look with one that almost made him step backward despite himself and the fact she couldn't do a damned thing to him in her present situation. But he kept his hands at his side anyway. She had a nice set of teeth surrounded by the second best set of lips he'd ever seen.

Definitely A-One material. A right royal bit of fluff.

Walking past her -- and taking a good look at her from that side too, which was definitily worth it -- he then turned to give the other one a lookover.

Compared to the blonde -- and he had to admit a weakness for blondes -- the other chit was almost plain looking.

But only at first look.

Her hair was mouse brown and she was a more modest dresser but still shared her companion's fetish for black leathers. She was also several years younger and not nearly as well 'endowed' as the blonde but she filled out her suit as well as any red blooded man could want. 'A dancer for sure, or I'm a newt.'

She didn't seem to have any emtpy weapons holsters on her, and he wondered how she handled things when they got rough.

He hadn't missed how both girls' hands were wrapped tightly by the mystic chain. Clearly the demons weren't taking any chances (or the chain wasn't, you could never be sure with such things) so she must be dangerous. So where were her weapons?

Pity he was pressed for time -- it would have been fun to search for them.

But the one thing that really puzzled him about her was they way she was looking at him. It wasn't the 'I'm gonna kill you ' look her friend was giving him.

It was more along the lines of a searching look.

Silly twit.

"Well, mates," he began, turning back back to the demons and rubbing his hands together, "That was fun. Thanks for the tour and all. I'd love to stay an' watch but me time's a bit limited and all so...."

"Morress!" barked the obvious leader of the pack, "Pop the lock on the gas and sell 'im a tank full. Oh, and give him our special discount."

"Whats that, mate?" asked a hopeful Spike.

"Ten percent above full price."

"How's that a discount?"

"The discount is we don't rip one of your arms off. You got a problem with that, 'mate'?"

Spike held his hands out, "No problem."

"Too bad," replied the demon, who then shrugged and turned back to his gang, "Ok, boys, time for some fun."

Wicked laughter was the reply as they all turned toward the dangling women.

'Pity I can't stay,' thought Spike, 'But the world just isn't fair. Oh well.' Turning he began to follow Morress out to his bike.

"SPIKE!"

'Huh?'

All heads turned back toward the girls.

"Spike?" asked Catherine Bell.

"Yeah, he's Spike." replied Kitty Pryde, "He's a vampire who hangs out with Buffy."

"Buffy?"

"Buffy Summers the Vampire Slayer. I mean, really, Cat, are you that out of the loop?"

"Well, excuse me for not being little miss perfect, unlike some others. Now I can guess what a vampire slayer does, so why would a vampire hang around one?"

"It's pretty complicated but he's been helping her out the last couple of years fighting demons and what not in Sunnydale which," continued Kitty, "is down the highway a good bit."

"Ah?"

"Yeah. So Spike is no doubt here to scope out the situation. Any moment now Buffy will be smashing through that door and WHAM, a whole lot less demons in the world."

"Oh! So we've no worries, huh?"

"Not a one."

"So," began the demon leader, "You work with the Slayer?"

"Now, now, mates..." replied Spike, shaking his hands in denial, "You're not going to believe a couple of silly chits, are you? They're just trying to cause trouble and save their own skins.

"And did you ever hear of a Slayer with as silly a name as Buffy anyway?" continued Spike.

"I have!" shouted one demon.

"Yeah!" screamed another, "And I heard of you, Spike! Of how you've been hunting your own kind."

"A traitor, huh?" growled the demon leader, "Git him, boys!"

"Hey now, let's not ge..." began Spike but he was drowned out by the roar of angry demons who mobbed him.

"Ouch!" commented Catherine Bell. "Things are getting nasty over there but I don't see any Buffy."

"You probably won't." answered Kitty, "I doubt she's anywhere nearby."

"Huh... oh, it was a bluff wasn't it?"

"More of a distraction," replied Kitty, her attention clearly focused elsewhere.

"One assumes you have a plan."

"Well, if I can free the fingers of one of my hands, I can summon the soul sword and then bye-bye chain."

"What about Spike?"

"He'll be fine."

"Won't Buffy be upset you got her friend worked over?"

"She'll probably want a blow by blow account. Maybe."

"Maybe? That sounds ominous."

"Not as much ominous as... complicated. But later for that. At the moment I need to concentrate to bypass the chain's mystic defenses."

"Well, concentrate faster -- time's about to run out."

"What, are some of the demons coming at us?"

"Worse."

"Worse? What could be worse than.... oh no!"

"Oh yes..." answered Catherine.

Spike's fist slammed into the demon-pack leader's chin, sending him flying straight up into the ceiling. At least until gravity reasserted itself and dragged it back to the floor with almost equally brutal force. As he laid there, head spinning and eyes unfocused, he felt something small and furry poking him. 'Wha da?' Forcing his eyes to work, he looked down at his chest...

And into the face of a small black cat.

With the mystic control key to the Chains of Ensnarement gripped in its mouth.

"Hey, you little flea trap!!" he screamed as his huge hand reached out...

And closed on empty air. Lucky the cat had already leaped away. Looking back, Lucky lifted his back leg at the demon.

The demon jumped up with a roar. "Why you little fli....!!?" His curse ended as a small purple form suddenly flew in front of him...

A small purple dragon.

As he stood there, as stunned as he'd been by Spike's punch, Lockheed the dragon shook his head and rolled his eyes. And breathed flame -- blast furance level flame.

Only the demon's smoking leather boots were left.

Blowing out a ring of smoke Lockheed turned away and flew toward Lucky who, with a flip of his head, sent the mystic key flying up into the dragon's hands. With a snicker Lockheed flew up into the rafters.

"Your dragon has got some sort of glowing thingy up there." commented Catherine Bell.

"That your cat gave him, I hasten to point out." replied Kitty Pryde.

"What do you suppose it is?"

"You know what it is, Cat."

"Unfortunately I do, Kat, but, you know, I just have to ask."

"You have to, do you?"

"Alas, I do. Think he knows how to use it?"

"How should I know? And it doesn't matter, in another second I... ACK!"

THUD! (in stereo)

"Guess that answers my question."

"Har de har har."

"For sure. But, all kidding aside, what's the story on this guy?"

"Spike's one of the most murderous and nasty pieces of vampire you're likely to ever come across. For the last century and a half he's lived to kill and wreck havoc."

"And of late he's had a change of heart and become a good guy, right?" was Catherine's sarcastic reply.

"In a way," replied Kitty as she swung the black blade of Muramasa (and Catherine still hadn't figured out how she kept the damned thing hidden) in a backhand swing, beheading a demon who'd left the fight with Spike to attack her.

"Say on."

"He ran into a government black op program studying vampires, demons and the like. They bagged and tagged him and for good measure put an electronic chip in his brain that prevents him from harming anyone."

"I don't think it's working anymore."

"Oh it is. It keeps him from attacking or feeding on HUMANS."

"Oh ho! I see. Should we help him? I don't think he's going to win against those numbers."

"That would probably be a good idea. I'd hate to have to explain my letting him get ripped to pieces to Buffy."

"Okey dokey," replied Catherine as she slapped a fresh clip into her automatic rifle, "Why don't you wade in there and grab him -- without that chain, I doubt they've anything to affect you when you're phasing."

"I'm there," was Kitty's reply as she complied.

One full clip of armor piercing explosive ammunition later Spike, Kitty Pryde and Catherine Bell stood alone within the garage, ankle deep in shredded demons.

Spike watched the two as he brushed himself off. The blonde gun bunny shoved another clip into her rifle and began to stalk the room as if she were looking for something else to shoot, while the other girl pulled some kind of flaming sword out of nowhere (and wasn't that a neat trick) and began to chop apart the magic chain. Both of them seemed unconcerned by him even with his other 'face' on (and wasn't that a blow to his ego) .

Which was just as well as his attention was drawn to the two .....animals(?) he'd caught a glimpse of during the fight.

'A bloody PURPLE little dragon.' he thought to himself, 'And he breathe fire too. These yanks will let anything into the country. At least the cat's normal. Or at least it seems normal.' Spike amended, 'But what is it with paired chits and cats? Guess that tells me their preferences..

'And sleeping arrangements,' he concluded with a grin as he assumed a more 'normal' appearance.

"Well, that was fun," commented Catherine.

"Just another day," mentioned Kitty.

"Wag wag wag!" growled Spike as he was brushing himself off. "Now I suppose you bints want to swap life stories, right?"

"Why not?"

"It's traditional."

"You can bite my bum first, you pair of twits. I don't care how it is you know me or why, I've business to tend to, so I'm getting me gas and moving on." Spike began to walk out, then stopped and grabbed a broom. Turning he tossed it in front of the girls. "Here," he said with a grin as he exited, "Put yourselves to some proper use for once and clean this place up."

"Bum?" asked Catherine, "He has his own bum?"

"It's british slang, you untraveled yank," replied Kitty.

"I'm fairly certain I was just insulted but I'm not sure."

"Nothing in this world is certain."

"Whatever. So are you going to fill me in on Spike and this Buffy person?"

"I met Buffy a couple of years ago while I was still with Excalibur during a case that involved evil sorcerers, evil vampires and just plain EVIL."

"Sounds evil."

"Oh it was. End of the world stuff."

"But you saved the day."

"We saved the day. Me, Buffy and her friends. Since then Buffy and I -- and Willow, one of her friends -- have been writing to each other. That's how I knew about Spike."

"Sounds like a very interesting story."

"And very long too and we don't have time for it right now. This little side excursion of yours has cost us a lot of time."

"My excursion? This was all your fault, if memory serves."

"No no no. I met up with you to deal with the other demon situation. This was your fault."

"No, I'm sure this was your idea."

"No, yours."

Spike listened to the 'conversation' as he finished filling his gas tank. "Sodding pair of loony wankers." he said to no one in particular. "If she's such a good friend of Buffy, where's she been the last year..."

He slammed the hose back into place as he fought down the urge to set the whole bloody place to the torch. It had it coming and so did he, but those two yammering  twits might take it wrong and come after him and he didn't have the time for that kind of nonsense.

He had a purpose.

The slayer was going to get what she had coming.

The vampire known as Spike raced down the highway.

"Can I stop now?" asked Catherine Bell.

"Yeah," replied Katherine Pryde, "He's gone."

"Good for him. Now why did you have us play typical blonde ditzes?"

"At times, it seems, we don't have to 'play' at it -- but for the moment I just wanted to distract him so I could get a good read on him."

"Get a good 'read' on him?"

"I have many gifts, grasshopper. They don't always work the way I'd like, but the last few letters I had gotten from Buffy were rather..... vague when it came to Spike."

"How vague?"

"Let's just say that reading between the lines led to some rather startling conclusions on my part."

"Since you're dancing around the point I get the feeling this is a subject you'd rather not touch on right now, so can we cut to the chase and answer the question -- is it safe to let that guy loose?"

Kitty Pryde stared at the distant tail-light of Spike's motorcycle for a moment, then turned back to her friend. "Yes," she said with what Catherine thought was a sad smile. "I think it is."

"Do you want to run down to Sunnydale and add Buffy to our little group?" asked Catherine, who then continued with a sly grin, "Unless she's got a mascot like we each do, in which case I'm going to have to veto her entrance."

"No mascot," replied Kitty, "unless you count the Scooby crew."

"I refuse to even ask."

"Spoilsport. But as much as I'd love to see her again, I'd rather not drag her into this unless I can't avoid it. She really could use a break right now, a bit of peace and quiet."

"Understood. But I'd still like to meet her sometime."

 "Sure, not a problem -- but we'll have to make it a bit later. For now, lets gather up our pint-sized troublemakers..."

"Can I put them in a bag, Kat? They're doing that damned 'we saved you again' dance."

"You can try if you want, but it's your funeral."

"How so?"

"Just imagine what they'll do to you in return."

"Ummm...Oh. I see what you mean -- and I have a rather poor imagination."

"Yep, just grin and bear it, Cat, that's about all we can do. Now let's get after that N'grai demon. I'd rather not have it get much closer to one of earth's thirteen Hell Mouths."

"Never a break, huh?"

"Not in this lifetime."