Chapter 1.13

Spike couldn't help thinking that for a fledgling his new "brother" seemed to have a pretty good set up. He seemed to have more money than you could shake a stick at, and he seemed to have put down roots, but if it came down to it, Spike would rather have Dru on his arm than all the money in the world. He glanced over his shoulder to where Lindsey sat in the row of seats behind Dru and himself. Sometime before he and Dru packed their bags and left for Europe, he would have to get him good and drunk and find out what exactly the Poof had done to earn the guy's hatred, not that it would take much over and above his actual existence.

* * * * *

Buffy oversaw the final preparations for their visitors. Fred and Gunn had done the rounds of as many of the churches in the area as they could manage and still get back before dusk. They were currently filling several large water pistols. Angel had sent Clem off on some errand that seemed to be taking him quite some time, whatever it was.

Willow and Tara were scouring through the book they had brought from the bookstore looking for spells they could use and making a list of the necessary components.

Wesley and Buffy were checking over weapons, cleaning, sharpening and oiling. Who would have known that blue demon gunk would set like that?

Lori had taken a break from the computer, and she and Lily had gone to fetch take-out for everyone. Fred had slipped on in her place trying to see what she could find relating to the Axis of Pythia, though she found little that wasn't already in the catalogue description.

Angel hadn't been surprised to learn that the lowest common denominator when it came to linking all the hospitals had turned out to be Wolfram and Hart. What had surprised him was when Lori had pointed out that several abattoirs, also owned by clients of Wolfram and Hart, had recently purchased tanker lorries of the sort normally used for moving milk, fuel or grain. By Angel's way of thinking, he and Lilah were overdue for a little chat, but it would have to wait. It seemed that they might have a small army to confront in the not too distant future.

Angel was... Well, no one was exactly sure what Angel was doing, but he managed to look dour and pensive doing it.

Half an hour after dusk, the back door of the hotel banged open.

"Fear not, ladies," announced one of the two new arrivals. "The Xan-man is here, with clean laundry for all and a message from the youngest Summers to say take care and that she rescheduled your appointment for tonight to Thursday. And Fangless owes me for a speeding ticket when we get him back." Putting down the bag he carried Xander hugged the three women from Revello Drive in turn. "So, Buff, what's this big, secret appointment?"

"A big, secret none of your business," replied the slayer.

"I brought some things from the Magic Box, but it was mostly guesswork which ones to bring." Anya was surprised to be enfolded in Buffy's arms. "And this parcel came to the shop, but it's for you." She passed over a parcel the size of a large shoebox. "Xander thought it might contain some of Spike's body-parts, but it doesn't really sound wet enough. Though, I don't know. If you cut off a vampire's hand, does it turn to dust or does it stay squidgey?"

"Personally, I think I'll file that away under things I never want to find out," Buffy replied.

Nevertheless, she couldn't resist rattling the parcel to check Anya's supposition, before she used the shortsword she had been working on to slit the tape on the parcel. Opening the top of the box, she found layers of tissue paper, which she cautiously folded back. Underneath, she found shiny white leather and plastic sheathed steel blades. Ice skates. Hers had been in the basement last year when it flooded. By the time they dried out the leather had been ruined.

Trust Spike to remember.

Trust Spike to get straight to work on his promise to take her skating.

Trust Spike to land his butt in trouble trying to play the hero before he could make good on the promise.

It was the final straw. Buffy ran from the room.

Peering over her husband's shoulder to see what had upset Buffy so much, Anya looked puzzled. "It's not like it really was body parts," she commented. "Or bunnies," she added as an after thought.

* * * * *

Buffy chose a room at random to hide in, closing the door behind her so that it looked like every other empty room in the corridor. She didn't know how she could keep doing this. Her strength had pretty much run out after that last run in with Glory. She was running on empty, but she couldn't let anyone know. She went through to the room's small bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She didn't have time to spare for tears. And she couldn't face down the Bad Guys if she was all puffy-eyed.

She heard the sound of the room's main door being pushed open. She momentarily wondered how whoever had found her. Then, she saw that her visitor was Lily.

"I think it was Nietzsche who said that even the strongest among us will get fatigued at times." The demon sat down on the end of the bare bed.

"What happened to your accent?" Buffy asked, her own problems temporarily forgotten, as she took a seat next to the horned demon.

Lily shrugged. "Mostly lazy. Sometimes good to let people think you don't understand. Let them feel better. Then, they not so scared. Scared people do bad things. But some things you can't say with pigeon English."

Buffy nodded dumbly as it seeped through to her consciousness that this woman/demon was so much more than she let on.

"I not can promise William come home," Lily said. "But he too stubborn to give up and is possible I see little bit why." The woman stood up and to Buffy's surprise she placed a soft kiss on Buffy's forehead before she left the room. Buffy cast her mind back trying to recall exactly how that Kiss of Death thing went in all the Godfather films that Xander had tried to make her watch.

Buffy rose and made to follow Lily back to the reception area. She got halfway along the corridor when Willow came running up the stairs calling her name.

"I'm here, Will. What's the what?"

"Spike. We found a spell that fools the wards, or they warded the area where he's been. He's being moved. Fast. Buffy, it looks like they're bringing him here."

* * * * *

Spike had always liked a dramatic entrance. He did them well, and tonight was no exception. He could see the nervous little chit hovering by the hotel's front door watching as their driver opened their door for him. He offered Dru his hand so that she could get out of the limousine like the lady she was, swinging her legs round, knees locked tightly together until she stepped daintily onto the pavement, like a Royal Doulton figurine that had somehow come to pale and magnificent life. Just to give the bint something to watch, Spike ducked his head and kissed the back of Drusilla's red nailed hand.

He still held her hand as he drew himself erect and let loose his demon, only relinquishing it as he used both hands to push the main door of the hotel violently open. He strode into the reception as if he owned it.

"Alright, people," he roared, knowing the battle's half way over if you can intimidate the enemy before you start. "Those of you who aren't slayers or great self-important Poofs have one chance to get out of here alive, and that's to get the hell out of here before the fight starts. Fire one of those weapons or lay a finger on any one of us and the only way you're leaving this place is in a body bag."

Even as he spoke his body was reacting to the familiar scent. 'What the hell?' he asked himself. 'That's not supposed to happen till after I drain the bitch.'

The arrayed company of crossbow wielding humans looked unimpressed. Clem gave Spike a slightly nervous wave, which confused Spike not a little.

He decided to bluster it out. "Am I meant to know you or something? Don't tell me... You bought me a drink once, and you think that gets you waving privileges."

Something was seriously wrong here, and Spike didn't know what the hell it was. He'd come here ready to kill the bitch, and now missing skin not withstanding, every part of his body was telling him he was a damn-sight more interested in bending her over that bleedin' reception desk she was standing behind and takin' her like he hadn't had a woman in years. Maybe he hadn't, but Dru was the one he was supposed to feel like that about. Not some bloody chit of a girl that was lookin' at him as if he'd just broke her bloody heart. Except, she wasn't a girl any more. There was nothing girlish about the lines that her clothes barely concealed. And why was it that the look in those eyes made him want to sweep her into his arms and kiss her till cryin' was the last thing on her mind.

He caught the look on Angel's face as he saw Lonesome enter behind Dru. It was an intoxicating mix of guilt and almost but not quite fear.

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah," drawled Spike. "Seems you've got a fan. I mean, normally I'd like to take you down a peg or two myself, but seeing as my dance-card was all booked up, I told Junior he could play. But then, it wouldn't really be fair; big old vampire like you against one poor fledge, so he brought some of his mates."

Angel turned to Drusilla. "You turned a lawyer?"

This piece of news surprised Spike, who looked first at Drusilla who gave him an evil Cheshire cat smile, and then at Lonesome who merely raised an eyebrow in a gesture that looked much like one of his own.

"You do not want to fight her, William." It was Lily who broke the silence.

"And what would you know about it, you old hag?" Even as he said it Spike felt like he was a kid who'd been caught doing wrong by his nanny.

At this, Buffy laid down her crossbow and walked out from behind the reception desk. "She would know what you're feeling. She would know that you can't hurt one you've marked as being under your protection." Buffy pushed her hair away from the right side of her neck, baring the imprint of Spike's fangs for the world, her world, to see. All the time she spoke, she inexorably closed the gap between her and Spike, not intimidated by the fact he was still in game face, and as she approached, he emitted a warning growl that steadily rose in volume. "She would know that whatever's been done to you, you could no more stop loving someone than you could grow wings and fly." Buffy reached slowly out to cup Spike's cheek with her left hand, letting him see the familiar ring and take in its significance.

Under her gentle hand, Spike's features changed back to human form. Flesh to flesh, she could feel his confusion. His feelings for her remained unchanged, but his feelings for Dru were as strong as they had been that day he'd rolled into town drunk, stronger even. He felt guilty at his betrayal of his sire, of his race, and he had no idea how he'd come to feel this way about someone he knew only as the bane of his existence.

Spike pressed against the gentle caress. This woman was obviously his in ways that Dru had never been. She had let him mark her, a privilege Dru had reserved for Angelus. She wore his mother's engagement ring, and when she touched him, he could almost physically feel her love, her desire, her relief and her compassion. The demon within screamed one word at her touch. "Mate."

With a fierce possessiveness, his hand reached out to cup the back of her head and pull her in for a kiss. Buffy melted against him, but he noticed even as she did, she avoided pressing against the areas where his clothing hid painful burns, as if she knew they were there.

Buffy didn't care who was watching or what they might think. They had obviously done something to tamper with Spike's memories. His words to Lily and to Clem were proof of that. It seemed that Spike didn't remember what had happened to them before. Hell, with their history, that might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. It didn't matter. Nothing on God's green earth could change what they meant to each other.

Ignoring his wounds, Spike swept his mate into his arms and carried her toward the stairs. He was only vaguely aware of Angel making some sort of protest, to which he replied with a low warning growl and merely continued on his way. His part in the evening's entertainment was over as far as everyone but Buffy was concerned, and as long as it wasn't worrying Buffy, he didn't care what happened to the rest of them.