Beta’d by Always_jbj.
Thanks to Q for her awesome help with Faith.

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Chapter Four

The sound and smell of the battle been being waged had all but disappeared to the recesses of his mind. He just kept staring at what remained of Peaches…just dust. After a hundred twenty-four years, the biggest pain of his unlife lay scattered before him. Funnily enough, he felt angry and abandoned by old broody pants.

Looking around for a can or box, Spike felt Connor just approach him. Ignoring the lad for a bit, he grabbed a metal box and began gathering Angel’s dust in it. At least the lad would have them.

“Are ya’ going to stand there or are you going to help me here?” He asked without looking up.

“Yeah, then I’ll take my revenge. He wasn’t theirs to kill…only I could do that.”

“Sorry Junior but I claimed dibs on him long before you were even the an idea in your Da’s knob. Everything’s all sixes and sevens. I know that. But let’s get him sorted and then we can dance, right.” Spike needed to take Junior under his wing…he had a promise to keep. Yeah, ‘and miles to go before I sleep,’ sod Frost.

Together they gathered the rest of Angel into the box. Spike tucked the box inside the pocket of his duster. Bloke would not want to miss the rest of the action.

Grabbing the trusty katana…he was going to have to keep this nice little toy, Spike watched as Connor picked out a battle-axe. A change had come over the boy. Even though Junior was still wearing Abercrombie & Fitch preppy wear, he looked remarkably different from when he had last seen him…this must be how he appeared as the ‘Destroyer of Quor-toth.’ Glad that the lad was on his team. Sparky was a tad scary… now he could see Angel-face in him.

“Uncle…” smiling creepily as if he was testing out a new word on his lips, Connor said, “You called it a dance…I like that analogy.”

“Okay Destructo-boy, ready to rumble?”

“Yes, just don’t get in my way…I remember seeing some of these demons in Quor-toth. I’ll make quick work of them. They’ve forgotten me…they’ll be sorry they did.”

Spike’s soul beamed with pride as he fought side-by-side with his nephew. The Destroyer and William the Bloody had cut a swathe through fifty demons in three minutes. Heads, limbs, other questionable parts had all been dismembered.

And Spike’s demon was relishing the violence. Fangs bared, fists flying, katana singing through the air…he felt as though he was almost waltzing. One…slice, two…turn, and three punch…four push. By God, it was intoxicating.

~~~~~
Spike sought out the positions of the rest of his band of merry soldiers. They needed to regroup. He knew that the sun would be up in about an hour. They had to hurry and finish this if he still wanted to be a part of it.

“Rogue, Tender, Blue, Pinky, Sparky… to me, in a V…fight and talk strategy…same time.”

Pinky was actually skipping to join him. Silly chit. Faith and Connor exchanged nods as they battled their way to meet. Blue just steamrolled her way through any idiot demon that thought her tiny size meant easy pickings…had they just arrived? Roni had tied her dreads back in a knot, blood on her brow…she was using the Docs on her feet to stomp the bloody hell out of some miserable bugger. Good girl.

“Sun’s coming up soon…an’ I have a serious aversion to being crispy…ideas are welcome…one time offer.” He said.

Rogue got a wild look in her eyes. “Girls, I think it’s time, don’t you. This party’s starting to blow…aren’t you guys getting bored?” Roni and Pinky exchanged secretive smiles.

Before he could respond, Blue beat him to the punch, “You are a strange one. You speak in riddles. You are tiring, your body weakening. This battle is too much for you, even though you three humans have more power than most. I find it tiresome that you trifle with such amusement. You three have joined our battle, but were not invited to it. It is distasteful that you mock this war. Wesley and now Angel have fallen victim to it. You mock their memories. Spike has my loyalty…he showed me Crash Bandicoot…took me outside. Angel’s son and Spike will not be mocked….”

“It’s alright, Blue…” Spike stopped her before she decided to use Faith as her new play toy. “You’ll learn that’s just how Rogue is, she didn’t mean any harm by it. An’ I took no offense.” Turning to Faith, he asked, “But I would like to know just what in the bloody hell you are on about? Time for what?”

During Blue’s diatribe, Roni and Dana had taken defending positions in front of Rogue. All three relaxed at the question. Faith nodded at the other two, who then retrieved two backpacks they had stowed behind some boxes near to where Roni had earlier placed Charlie.

Looking questionably at Faith, he asked, “What have you chits got planned, Rogue?”

“We brought some extra goodies… that Dana’s Watcher thought might come in handy.”

Spike was sure that Rogue didn’t know Pinky had let on earlier that Xander was her Watcher…for some reason she was keeping that fact under wraps. What “goodies” did the Whelp have them bring? Donuts? Snacks?

Roni opened hers first. Pulling out a portable flame-thrower, Tender put it together and lit it up, “Do you like, Billy boy? It has a range of 15-feet, and it’s collapsible so I can fold it into my backpack…neat, eh.”

“Bloody hell. Why didn’t you bring that baby out to play earlier? We could have been out of here long ago.”

“It doesn’t stay lit for very long, Spike. I’m sorry. It’s still just a prototype and can only be used for like five minutes tops. It’s for backup only,” Roni answered softly.

“S’alright…I see now.” he turned to Dana, “What’s in your bag, Pinky?”

That sound…. he’d heard it a year ago…it sings. No it couldn’t be. He closed and then reopened his eyes; he had to be to be sure that what he was seeing was real.

In Psycho Slayergirl’s hands was the deadliest weapon he had ever come across…Buffy’s Scythe.

He vamped, “What did you bints do to her? That’s Buffy’s.” He could feel Junior holding him back from attacking Dana, whose smile had turned into a confused frown. “She’s not dead…I’d feel it…so you had to do something to her to have that now. I’ll ask again…what…did…you…bints…do…to…my…Slayer?”

“B’s five by five, Spike don’t sweat it, I promise. She gave me this baby when she went to Europe. Rona and I felt terrible about what went down that night, what with throwing her out and all. But after…well you know…I took over Cleveland, and well, the scythe, it came with the package. I’m not arguing that it’s hers, man, damn straight it is! When she wants it back, it’s hers…no question! I’ll give it to her. Come on, you’re making Precious cry.”

Spike calmed a bit, noticing that in fact Pinky did have tears in her eyes…still holding the scythe like some prize she’d won at the fair. He was such a tosser. Never could stand to watch a bint cry.

“S’okay Con, you can let me go now.” Moving over to Pinky, Spike patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, his fingers protesting loudly. “Hush now ducks, no need for that…’twas a bit of a shock that’s all. Now, are you going to show me what you can do with that?”

“No toys for you, Rogue?”

“Nah, you know me, Bleachy…I like to get my hands dirty.”

“Right then, enough of the blabber…let’s get this done…we’ve got Charlie waiting for us inside the hotel. Now off with you lot.”

~~~~

With the additions of the Slayer’s scythe and the flame-thrower, the remaining hundreds of the horde were quickly culled. Battling the last remaining dregs, Spike’s senses tingled with the onset of the sun’s rising. He had to get inside and soon. No sooner than he’d thought that did he realize that the demons were beating a hasty retreat.

“They must be allergic to the sun as well.” Faith panted next to him. “We’ve got to get you inside. It looks like the shows over out here anyway.”

Spike followed his merry little troop to the back entrance of the Hyperion hotel.

~~~~~~
Interior of the Hyperion Hotel

The place could have used a good cleaning. Apparently, Peaches had not kept the place decent for company since signing with the Evil Lawyers-R-Us. Papers were strewn across the floor, cobwebs decorated the nooks and crannies, and there was an odor…sewage…a pipe must have burst. Not that he minded, place kind of reminded him of his old haunt the Factory…now that place exuded atmosphere.

As Spike was taking in the ambiance, the others had gone to work. Rona, with Connor’s help, had set up a makeshift medic station on the circular couch in the center of the room. Faith had taken out crystals from her bag and had gone about setting them at all the entrances. Brilliant-extra layer of protection, he thought. Dana was out of her sneakers and was busy cleaning the scythe and other weapons. Blue was observing Charlie, who was resting on a sofa that Connor must have pulled out for him earlier. Charlie’s heartbeat had strengthened; he was going to make it.

“Glad to see you still this side of the living, Charlie boy,” Spike teased after he had walked up to Gunn’s prone form and sniffed, “But you could use a wash…the entrails don’t suit ya.”

“Well Sid Fangless, I always considered you a winter…but that green slime does nothing for your complexion,” Gunn parried.

“Sod off you twit, you have the luxury of not having to wear it…Roni here is going to check up on you …oh and Blue here too.”

“Yes. I am happy that ‘Roni’ arrived in time to counter the damage you have received. I would have not been pleased to have witnessed your death,” added Illyria.

“Thanks, Blue Thunder…I saw you kick some righteous demon butt before I got hustled in here. Wesley would have been proud.”

“Gunn, Blue…ladies…I need to chat with Junior for a bit. Won’t be long…and then you’ll explain everything to me,” Spike stated, staring meaningfully at Faith.

“Junior…step into the office.”

~~~~~

Spike followed Connor into what appeared the office. Bookshelves, desk and chairs were still arranged as if the room had been waiting for its owner to reclaim them. He needed to clear the air with Junior, make sure no resentments would be coming back to bite him in the arse.

As he started to speak Connor rushed forth, “Uncle Spike…I’m glad he asked you. It’s strange. The memories are still so twisted, but I remember that I had wanted him dead…had actually come close several times to dusting him when I first returned. Do you know about the ocean?” He asked sheepishly.

“No, he didn’t tell me about that…just that you had issues. But what father and son don’t have ‘em.”

“I left him to die at the bottom of the ocean…sealed in a crate provided with a barred window, so he could watch the fish.” Junior kept his eyes focused on his feet, “I was so angry…I didn’t understand. It was time wasted.”

Spike couldn’t help it…he laughed. First time, in a long while he’d been able to do that. Oh, his sides were hurting…blood tears were forming. Noticing the lad’s shocked reaction, Spike quickly wiped away the tears and tried to calm the laughter, “Sorry…Con…it’s just that…bloody hell…I would have brought popcorn and paid kittens to see that. What a show and I bleedin' missed it! And you had him down there…’swimming with the fishes!’ Come on…tell me that’s not funny.”

Finally, Spike saw Sparky crack a smile. Knew he had it in him. The boy had potential, alright.

“Now,” sobering up, “Peaches told me there were some paperwork in a safe somewhere in here…you know where that might be?”

“Yes, this was my Father’s, and then Wesley’s office. The safe is over there…I still know the combination…and do I want to know why you called him Peaches?” Connor blabbed as he moved to the safe, opened it and removed its contents.

“No, you really don’t. Let’s see what me old Sire, your Da has left for us to find.”

Sorting through the papers, Spike found two envelopes addressed to him and one envelope addressed to Connor. The twit had been spot on in the alley when he said that he had known he wasn’t going to survive the battle. And he was holding the proof. Handing Junior his letter, Spike examined his.

Ever the controlling tosser, Peaches had marked ‘Open First’ and ‘Spike, Open the Other One First’ on the envelopes. Shaking his head at the nerve, Spike ripped open the second envelope. Peaches bloody knew him so well:

Spike:

I knew you couldn’t resist one last defiance, at times you were so easy to predict. If you are reading this, then Cordelia’s vision has come to pass, and I am done with my part in the bigger picture. I know you don’t cater to any Powers That Be…but they chose you for a reason. Though I am loathe seeing why. You are still a pathological, idiotic, limey piece of crap who never knew when to shut it, but you are without a doubt a brave hero.

Don’t get your knickers in a twist…this will stop being sentimental right now.

The defeat of the Circle of the Black Thorn was the sounding bell. The battle that was just waged was just the first skirmish. Lindsay was correct in that the fight is ongoing. You have some time before the major battle will be fought.

In the other envelope are copies of deeds to this hotel, some other properties, bank account numbers with pass codes and the deed to the jet. Ask Gunn. We secretly arranged the purchase of the jet under Hamilton’s not-so watchful eye. Both you and Connor are the new proud owners of my estate.

Take care of him and tell Buffy that I don’t want her to take it out on you. Be a champion, William.

Angel

Spike re-read the letter one more time then looked over at his nephew. Connor was shaking with grief. Bugger all, and the lad had been holding up so well.

“S’alright Connor…now let’s find out to what we owe the pleasure of the company of the Slayerettes.”

He waited a moment while Connor composed himself. The lad really was impressing him. Together they strolled back out into the lobby.

~~~~
“Right then Rogue…let’s cut to the chase shall we. Enough time has passed. What brought our little problems to the attention of the Slayerettes and how in the bleeding hell did you ‘pop’ in here?” Spike demanded, fixing his attention solely on Faith.

Faith began, “Well it started when a seer at the Coven got a message from Tara….”