9. What? No Hot Wings?

Disclaimer: Don't own anything worth suing for, besides, just playing with em.

Summary: Just a little more in the Scoobies search for their missing vampire.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Once again I find myself apologizing for taking so long to update. This was a hard chap to write but I finally got it to work and I think it might be worth reading. Let me know what you think.

WayWard Childe: As always, thanks so very much for your help. You ROCK!

He was cold, wet and miserable. As a vampire, human ailments shouldn't bother him but he had a cough that racked his body and stole his unnecessary breath. Rain dripped into his face as thunder boomed overhead. The horde of demons entering the alley made his unbeating heart sink. There was no possible way to win this battle. Angel was insane to even consider it. He pulled his soaked duster closer around his body and shivered in the freezing cold leather. The screams of the multitude of demons pierced his sensitive eardrums and he winced at the pain of it. He watched from his position at the back of the alley as the horde advanced on the good guys. He saw Angel turn to dust and his friends fall, one by one. He watched the slayers enter the battle and drive the horde back but for each slayer, a dozen demons appeared. It was Hell on earth and Spike had been chosen to prevent it. He couldn't figure out how he was supposed to accomplish his mission. Within hours the demons had defeated the small army against them and were swarming through the city on their way to covering the rest of the world. Humanity was doomed.

Spike sat bolt upright in bed as the horrific images chased him from sleep. The nightmares were getting worse and more detailed. He hoped with all his non-working heart that Anya had not heard any noise he might have made. He scrubbed shaking hands over his face and willed the incipient tears away. He gulped in deep unneeded breaths, hearing with relief the clearness of his lungs, no sign of the deep hacking cough he'd had in his dreams.

His slender shoulders slumped in defeat as he asked himself what he was supposed to do to prevent the disaster Angel was planning. His dreams indicated that his Sire was planning to challenge the Senior Partners who, according to what he'd been told, were the polar opposites of the Powers That Be. The evil to good, the yin to yang. Without one the other was impossible. The balance had to be maintained and for Angel to believe that he could, with just a few humans – even if some of them were slayers – take on the higher level of evil was nothing short of insanity. Spike had sacrificed his existence to defeat the First Evil and had learned that it hadn't been a defeat. The First Evil was once again banished to the underworld but it still existed. It could never be extinguished.

Spike cut off that train of thought. He didn't want to be reminded of what he'd done. Anger washed through him and he shoved the covers off. His internal clock told him it was just past sundown. He frowned and wondered why Anya hadn't woken him before now. He grimaced as he noticed the empty beer bottles lying on the floor. Those alone weren't bad. It was the empty Jack Daniel's bottle next to them that reminded Spike why he'd slept so long.

He swung bare legs over the side of the bed and got up. Pulling on his discarded jeans from yesterday, he took clean clothes from the closet and dresser before cautiously making his way down the short hall to the guest bathroom. He stopped for a second and listened with preternatural hearing to determine if his hostess was home. He didn't hear anything. She must have gone out.

As he waited for the water to get hot, he leaned on the edge of the sink. His bare shoulders were slumped and he wondered for what seemed like the millionth time just how he was supposed to stop his great ponce of a sire. Steam began to roll out of the glass encased shower, the warmth of it whispered across his cool skin bringing to mind the warm atmosphere of the dimension where he'd spent the past year. It had felt like it had been far longer than a year, time really had no meaning in that dimension. It had been home. Warmth and light, love and peace had been his existence in that place. He'd been reunited with his mother, Joyce Summers and Tara. He'd known that everyone he'd cared about had been safe from the First Evil. He knew that evil still roamed the earth but he'd stopped the greatest threat until Angel had hatched his harebrained scheme, whatever it was, to defy the Senior Partners. That had sent the Powers That Be into a frenzy which had resulted in Spike's return to the Hell that was Earth.

With a shudder, Spike dragged his wandering mind away from what he'd lost and peeled off his jeans so he could step into the blissfully hot water of the shower.

Later, he wandered into the kitchen to heat some blood. His stomach was vigorously protesting the delay in his meal. He was on his third mug when he heard the key in the lock.

"Spike?" Anya called from the entryway. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, Pet. I'm in the kitchen." Spike answered even as he pushed the swinging door open and met her. He took the handles of the plastic grocery bags from her and carried then back to the kitchen. He set them on the counter below the cupboards and began to empty them onto the proper shelves, setting the cold items aside to put in the refrigerator.

He spoke over his shoulder as he worked. "That reminds me. I need to give you some grocery money. I don't want you to think you have to support me."

Anya protested as she took the empty bag he handed her. "I can afford it. I don't want to take your money."

Spike smirked as he wadded up the last bag. "It's not mine. The Wankers That Be are footing the bill."

Her deep brown eyes gleamed at his words. "Oh, well. In that case..."

Buffy's room, at the motel...

Dawn lounged on her sister's bed while she waited for the older girl to finish getting ready for dinner. The group was planning to eat at the local restaurant before going over to the bar up the road. They planned to ask some of the locals if they knew Spike, or at least had seen him. The teenager frowned as she toyed with the sapphire necklace.

"Buffy, don't you think it's odd that Spike checked out of the motel right after we checked in? Do you think he knew we were here and left so he wouldn't have to talk to us?" Dawn asked quietly. Her crystal blue eyes were red-rimmed from the tears she'd shed since she'd discovered Spike was back.

"I don't know, Dawnie. I hope not. He might just be confused. Remember how messed up everything was right after I got back? At least he didn't have to dig himself out of a grave." Buffy said with a slight shudder of remembrance.

"But why bring him back at all?" Her sister exclaimed in frustration. "Willow said he was at peace. We accepted that. It's not fair." She jumped up from the bed and began to pace in the small room.

"Fair or not, it happened. We just have to find out why and go from there. We have to figure out what he's meant to do and help him do it. Lorne says he's the PTB's new champion. If that's the case, we have to find out what happened to Angel." Buffy set her hairbrush down carefully and turned to her upset sister. "Let's go, the others are waiting."

Later, Macy's...

Cindy led the group to a large booth they kept in the back of the bar for just such a party. She gave Lorne a couple of curious glances but for the most part shrugged off his unusual appearance. She efficiently took their drink order, giving Dawn a teasing smile when the under-aged teen ordered a mixed drink. "Coke it is then, Sweetie." Her sparkling brown gaze scanned the rest of the group. "You are a unique group, aren't you?" She observed.

Wesley smiled then winced when Fred pinched his thigh. "We're looking for a friend of ours. I wonder if you could tell us if you know him."

Cindy had known to expect the question. Chuck had been quite thorough in his description of some of them. She let her gaze roam over the rest of the group. She started with the handsome black man on the end before moving on to the dark haired Englishman next to him. A slender brunette with a southern accent was next to the Brit. The fedora'd Lorne was beside her. The under-aged teen was next in the booth, a petite blonde beside her. And older man with slightly graying hair and distinguished features looked uncomfortable to have to sit between the small blonde and a short young man whose hair stood straight up. A pretty redhead was next, cuddled up to a handsome young man with shaggy dark hair and an eye patch. Concerned sorrow shone brightly in the eyes of most of the group. Her bright smile never faltered. "I can try." She answered noncommittally.

Long minutes passed as she waited for someone to offer a description. "Okay, let me go get your drinks." Cindy suggested.

Giles nodded. "Yes, that would be appreciated."

Cindy walked away. Her smile dropped as soon as she was out of sight of the table. Like Chuck, she wondered what the odds were that two Englishmen were looking for another one. Dan met her at the bar as she placed the order.

"Well? Are they the ones looking for Spike?" He asked quietly.

"Yes." She nodded grimly.

"There're an awful lot of them." He glanced back at the group.

"I know. Keep an eye out for me. I don't think they mean any harm but I don't want to take any chances." She accepted the laden tray from the bartender. "Oh, and go call Anya, let her know they're here."

The bouncer nodded and moved away. He navigated easily through the sparse crowd that was in the bar. He took up his normal position by the front door and pulled out his cell phone. He hit the proper speed dial number and waited for the call to connect.

At the table, Xander watched Cindy. He been attracted by her pretty looks and perky attitude but now he was frowning. "Well, isn't that interesting." He muttered.

Willow glanced up at him. "What is?"

Xander nodded his head toward the front door. "The server had a little conference with the bouncer guy over there." He indicated Dan standing by the door having an intense conversation on his phone. "Then he pulled out his phone and made a call."

"It could be nothing." Buffy offered.

"It could be everything." Giles contradicted. "I've learned the hard way not to believe in coincidence."

Cindy chose that moment to return to the table with a large heavy tray of drinks. She placed them in front of each person from their proper order on the tray. Buffy blinked as she never hesitated or made a mistake in the order of the drinks.

"How did you do that?" The Slayer asked.

"Do what, Hun?" Cindy smiled as she stood back with one fist resting on a cocked hip. She held the tray loosely in the other hand and surveyed the eclectic group.

"Remember who had what drink. I waited tables for a little while and could never remember. I always had to ask who had what." Buffy frowned in puzzlement.

Cindy laughed but it wasn't unkind. "I've done this for a long time. You just have to have a system. I write it down in the order of where everyone is sitting and have Jay load the tray in the same order. You start at one end and go around the table." She indicated Gunn with her pointed finger and swept it around until she was pointing to Xander. She shrugged. "Do everything the same way every time and it becomes habit. You never make a mistake." She winked. "And you impress the customers."

Her sparkling eyes surveyed the group once more. "Ok, this friend you're looking for, anyone got a description?"

Gunn pointed to Xander. "Xander, why don't you give her the one you gave that clerk."

Xander nodded. "He's a little shorter than I am, about five feet ten and slender, almost skinny. He dyes his hair platinum blond and slicks it straight back. His name is William but he goes by Spike. He wears a leather duster that looks older than dirt and is at least one size too big. He's got dark blue eyes with a scar in the left eyebrow. He's got a British accent but not like Giles or Wesley, it's rougher." He pointed towards the two Brits across the table.

Cindy frowned as she took in the hopeful expressions on the teenager, the blonde next to her and the redhead. The short blond guy was looking as if he wanted to be hopeful but was trying to be macho about it. The one called Xander played distractedly with his napkin as he frowned. He seemed almost angry.

A frown pulled her arched eyebrows together as she thought about the quiet, handsome Spike. He'd won a place in her affections already merely by being a friend of Anya's. Their entire circle of friends had adopted Anya when she'd first come to town, recovering from injuries sustained in the earthquake and scared of starting over alone in a strange town. She appeared to be thinking deeply.

"Sooo..." She began slowly. The brunette teenager sat forward eagerly.

"You've seen him?" She asked anxiously.

"Dawnie, calm down. Give her time." Buffy admonished her sister.

"But, Buffy...." Dawn protested.

Cindy knew that Chuck had already told them Spike had been in town. He'd only told them that he'd checked out of the motel. She decided to go that route.

"There was a guy in a couple of nights ago. The only thing is..." She paused.

"What?" Dawn burst out. "Is he all right?"

"He seemed to be. No, that's not what I meant. It's just that he wasn't wearing a duster. He had a motorcycle jacket." Cindy assured the fretful girl.

"Oh, thank Gods." Andrew spoke for the first time, his tone prayerful. Cindy gave him a puzzled glance.

"Ignore him." Xander said quietly. "Was Spike really all right? He didn't start any fights? No antagonizing of the locals? Just got thoroughly drunk and staggered off into the night?" His tone was only half joking.

Cindy gazed at the one-eyed man. There was anger in the dark eye but the server got the feeling the anger was more in behalf of Spike rather than toward him. "No, he didn't get drunk. Just had a few beers and a blooming onion."

"What? No hot wings?" Xander grinned for the first time. Somehow knowing that Spike had indulged in one of his favorite snacks was reassuring to him.

Cindy shook her head, bemused. "No, no hot wings." She turned her head as Dan tapped her shoulder. "Look, I have to go back to work. When I take my break I'll come over to sit and talk to you all, ok?"

She walked away with the bouncer, aware of the conversation that broke out behind them. "What did Anya say?" She whispered as soon as they got far enough away. She glanced around the sparsely populated bar, thankful that the bartender had covered for her while she'd been occupied.

Anya's house...

The ex-demon hung up the phone and turned to her guest. They were in the living room and had been talking quietly waiting for dinner to finish cooking.

"You heard?" She asked.

Spike nodded his bright head. "Yeah. The gang's all here, then?" He frowned as he did a mental roll call based on the descriptions and realized they actually weren't. "Wonder why the Poof didn't show up." Then he snorted. "Yeah, right. Like he'd care if I came back. Bleeding tosser hates me." He closed his eyes and turned his face away. "They all do."

"That's not how it sounds." Anya told him consolingly.

His temper flared. He jumped up to pace in agitation. "Doesn't matter though, does it? The wankers brought me back and dumped me back here in Hell. They want me to save the fucking world... again! I did it once. I died. Gave up everything so all of you could live and be safe and now the sodding great git of a Sire thinks he can take on the biggest evil since the bleeding First." He turned tortured sapphire eyes to Anya. "When is it enough? What do I have to do?"

He walked slowly over to the chair she was sitting in. She gazed up at him, tears welling in her large dark eyes in the face of his angry pain. As the first crystalline drop slid down her cheek, he sank to his knees in front of her. He raised a trembling hand to wipe away the tear even as one of his own trailed down his pale face. "Shhhh – Shhhh. Don't." His voice broke.

Anya lifted her own slender fingers to his face and ran her thumb along his sharp cheekbone, catching his teardrop on the tip. He closed his eyes, forcing the rest of his tears out to soak his lashes and turned his face into her hand. She slid her hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him down to her shoulder. He nestled his forehead into her neck and let his sorrow overwhelm him. Deep racking sobs shook his slender body as her arms wrapped around his back. She dropped her face onto his shaking shoulder as her own tears escaped.