The door to Willie’s banged open as a black-clad male stepped in. By his confident swagger and firmly placed smirk, it was obvious the assorted demons inhabiting the bar didn’t faze him. This meant one thing for Willy: it was time to start making some O-neg Bloody Marys.

The stranger settled himself on a stool, lit up a cigarette and demanded some Jack. After quelling his thirst, the bleach-blond man grabbed Willy by the collar and brought him nose-to-nose with the now game-faced vamp.

“Now, tell me the news, otherwise you’ll find out exactly what happened to the guy who owned this place back in ’77.”

“What do you want to know, mister…” Willy asked, trying to contain the tremble in his voice.

“Spike.”

Gasps could be heard from some of the tables where demons were blatantly eavesdropping. Spike grinned but didn’t even try to see who it was that recognized him. He had already appraised the foes and the positioning of the sounds gave him all the information he needed.

“I see your patrons have heard of me and if the stench of your fear is anything to go by, so have you. So talk before I make you my evening snack.”

~~~~~***** ~~~~~

As he took advantage of the shadows, Spike was intrigued to see that the guy that was supposedly the Slayer’s Watcher was ransacking cabinets in the teachers’ lounge, muttering to himself about spatulas, of all things. That in itself would have been odd, but what was truly unique was confirming what the sleazy bartender had told him the night before. The Watcher was not alone and the two people milling about him, clumsily trying to help, seemed to know all about the Chosen bird’s job.

What really piqued his interest though was the entrance of a dark haired woman that appeared to both belong there and somewhere else, somewhere he couldn’t quite put his finger on. If the Watcher’s reaction to her presence was anything to go by, there were quite a few sparks flying between the two.

Just as he was finishing his appraisal of the four people now rummaging for kitchen appliances, the group of vampires he was expecting burst in. The ensuing altercation giving the Master Vampire all the information he needed about the Sunnydale situation ever since the Master’s demise. The town was ruled by idiots. He hadn’t seen such shoddy work since the days of the hippies. Coordination lacked and brains were obviously a commodity the group was in sore need of. It was so bad that the droopy boy previously stumbling over his shoelaces had managed to dust one of the assailants before the humans finally fell prey of the vampires.

Adding insult to injury, the blubbering idiots didn’t even sense his proximity, his Master signature being so strong the minions should have detected it from the moment they’d entered the building.

Shaking his head at the moronic lackeys trying to bring back Old Batface, he had no problem following the group that was making enough noise to wake the dead on the other side of the small town.

~~~~~*****~~~~~

The door to the Bronze slammed against the wall as the pissed off Slayer barged in. She wanted a fight and she wanted it yesterday. She’d found out early enough after being Called exactly what the best remedy for, well, anything really was: a good old fight to the death with a dusty ending. There was nothing on the planet as cathartic as watching some random vamp burst into ashes.

Tonight the need for the release fighting brought her was in more demand than most nights. Tonight the memory of her short-lived death was even more present than usual. And isn’t that one of those ironic thingies. Short-lived death *snort* yeah, right! What had her even more on edge was the presence of a vampire just a couple of feet behind her. She could practically feel his chilled breath on her neck. Angel, why the hell won’t you just go and leave me alone. This is my fight!

The previous night she’d lied to him, told him she’d moved on to “pulsers”. So what if that wasn’t exactly true? So what if instead she’d gone clubbing, shopping, and done whatever she could think of to forget the previous year? She did all the things she used to do back in the days at Hemery: illegal drinking, making out with jocks, setting targets to pick on for their lack of fashion sense or for seducing. Nothing worked, though, and everything left her a stale aftertaste.

She‘d ignored her own discomfort and had forged on with the Valley Girl routine, but she knew she was faking it. She was miserable and this pseudo lust for life wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She wanted to crawl away and shut everyone out. Maybe that would stop the hurt. So moving on from Angel? No. But really, what is there to move on from? Were we with the togetherness? Shyeah, nu-huh.

And the infuriating vampire was breathing down her neck – literally. Ok, so technically he wasn’t quite breathing, more like gulping air from time to time as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t speak out after their recent “talk”. Whatever, like I wanna hear what he has to say? As if! He’s a vampire, I’m a Slayer. And he dares tell me I’m weak? I’d kick his ass. Really, I could.

She found the vamp she’d been trailing after. And after the mildly satisfying beating of said vamp, she learned what she wanted. Well, not really wanted. She didn’t want to know that this had been a trap for the others. It was supposed to be her fight, not theirs! Her fight and her death! Shit!

~~~~~*****~~~~~~

Absalom was busy reading his books again while Colin yawned. Just as the older vamp got the particular look on his face than meant he was about to start preaching about the Master’s revival again, the door opened and a leather-clad bleach-blond vampire sauntered in. Colin sighed in annoyance that he’d have to play lord and master again.

“Oh, my Spike, the family is coming together again. We’ll have a grand party with lots of guests. I want a pretty dress, Spike. A pretty dress with a pretty girl in it from my Dark Knight.” The lunatic that had arrived earlier startled everyone. How many lunatics are there in this Order? Colin thought to himself.

“How are you, Princess? Did you eat anything since you left? Why don’t you come with me and let your Dark Knight take care of you? We don’t need to be here for what’s coming.” Spike made to grab her around the waist, only to be rewarded with a swat of the hand across his cheek.

“Bad Spike! You talk naughty things. Great-Granddaddy is coming back and we must be here to welcome him. So shush and take your place.” Dru went back to the side of the Master’s bones. A few moments of stillness passed. Spike’s eyes were fixated on the woman as she rocked from side to side, whispering to the Master’s skull.

“And who are you? Pay your respects when you arrive in our territory. The Anointed One deserves your deference!” Absalom boomed in the same voice he used to give orders.

Pulled out of his reverie, Spike turned towards the ones seemingly in command. A ponce and a brat. This town has gone to shit. “I am William the Bloody and luckily for you I know just what to do about Slayers. Kill them!” He grinned evilly as he lit up a cigarette. “Now I hear you have some mates of hers locked up tight waiting for a draining. Mind if I have a nice little chat with them? I want to see what they know.”

“The sacrifices are for the ritual. They are not to be harmed until then, is that clear?” Absalom looked down on the vampire that seemed a bit too cocky for his own good.

Raising his hands, Spike signaled his acquiescence. “Not even going to touch a hair on their heads. I just want some answers.”

“You may proceed, William, but be careful what you do,” Colin decided to speak up as well.

“Call me Spike, and don’t worry, I’ll be good. Scout’s honor.” Snickering, Spike strode towards the back of the partly dilapidated building, following the drumming of heartbeats.

Getting to the room where the captives were locked in cages, he dismissed the guard and approached the older man, smirk firmly planted on his lips, as he looked him over.

“So you’re the Slayer’s Watcher.”

“What business is it of yours, foul beast?”

Sneering unpleasantly, Spike went on. “I have a few things to talk to you about, so you can dispense of the pleasantries. We’ll have a cuppa later and trade expletives, but for now let’s chat.”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

He’s got more balls than I gave him credit for. Good, I like a challenge! “Listen, old man, I want to know if your Slayer can take out the wankers outside.” At the startled look on the Watcher’s face, he grinned evilly. “It would save me the trouble. Now, where can I find her, ‘cause I have a proposition to make her?”

“There’ll be no propositioning of the Buffster. She and Angel will so kick your scrawny ass!” Xander shouted in what he thought was defending his friend. Ok, so she’d been less than friendly lately, but still.

“So the Whelp has a voice.” Spike chuckled locking eyes with the youngster. “Too bad you don’t also have a brain. The English language too tough for you? Don’t want the chit that way, just wanted to talk to her and see if we could reach an understanding.”

“She will never deal with you, demon!” Giles held firm.

“She just deals with my Sire, huh? Is that some sort of discrimination against good-looking blokes? Does she only get hot and bothered when she sees a brooding forehead the size of a billboard?”

“What do you mean your ‘Sire’?” Giles was too fascinated by finding out information to remember he wasn’t supposed to be talking to the evil demon.

“Well, more like Grand-Sire if you really want to go diggin’ in my family tree. He made Dru, she made me, and he helped her. How is dear old Angelus these days? Still munchin’ on rats?”

“That makes you what, Deadboy Junior? Man, how many of you vamps are there in this family of Angel’s? Not that you’re not all gonna get what Darla got!” Xander shrugged it off as Giles’ jaw was so slack words couldn’t form on his lips.

“Heard about that. Yes, you tweedy twerp, I am William the Bloody, also known as Spike. By the horror in your eyes, I’m guessin’ you’ve heard of me?” Spike grinned again.

“You will not make her your third, you miscreant. She’ll defeat you as she did the Master and avenge her fallen sisters!” Giles tried to sound confident, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. Spike’s smirk just grew bigger.

“Third what, G-man?” Xander wanted to clarify, although the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach alerted him he might not want to know the answer to that question.

“Third Slayer I off in a century, Whelp. No other vamp can say that.” Spike winked at the now whimpering redhead cowering in the adjacent cage.

“Buffy will still take you down. She’ll fight you and she’ll win, ‘cause that’s what she does. She wins. Even with the Master she won. So what if technically she was dead a few moments, but what matters is the end result, right? And it’s not like-” Willow babbled with her hands flailing in jerking movements around her.

“That will suffice, Willow.” Giles cut her off.

“Well, if you’re over a century old it explains the look. Billy Idol is so 80’s!” Cordelia decided she had to share her opinion as well.

“The ponce stole the look from me!” Spike threw over his shoulder at the brunette daring to insult him. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the older dark haired woman he’d seen earlier.

“Didn’t I eat an ancestor of yours once? Now where was it? Where are you from, pet?”

“That is none of your business. Leave us alone.” Jenny refused to cave under the force of his gaze.

“Doesn’t matter, anyway.” Spike shrugged. “Look, as much as I enjoy your prattling on about this and that, there’s a room full of gits that deserve a dustin’. And eager as I am to put them out of their collective misery, I was thinkin’ your goody two-shoes of a Slayer might want a piece of the action. So where can I find the bint?”

“Hey, you take that back, blood breath! She’s not a bint, whatever that is,” Xander said still feeling like he should jump in.

“And again you open your mouth and tie your tongue in knots trying to speak. Really, old man, did you teach these children nothing about proper English?” Spike said turning to an increasingly flustered Giles.

“Even if I were to believe your outrageous boast about wanting to terminate the existence of the vampires residing herein, I wouldn’t just give over my charge to you. Not with your infamy based on killing her kind.” Giles took a step back and leaned against the bars behind him.

“Bloody hell, you lot are infuriating. Fine then, I’ll find her on my own. Not like it’ll be too difficult. Thank you for your enlightening anecdotes. Bleed merrily!”

And with that Spike left the Scoobies behind him and went hunting for his favorite prey: Slayer.

~~~~~*****~~~~~

Buffy and Angel were emerging from Sunnydale High when the dark haired souled vampire suddenly froze and grabbed Buffy’s arm, restraining her from moving forward.

“What’s your damage, Angel? Decided to have a try at taking me down? Well, I don’t have time now, so rain check, ’kay?” Buffy said and jerked her arm out of his grip adopting a fighting stance, startling Angel out of the trance-like state he’d entered in order to extend his senses.

“No, it’s not that, Buffy. I sensed something and if I’m right you’re in way over your head now.” Angel tried again to grab her shoulder and push her slightly behind him.

“Take your undead hands off me!” she yelled slapping his arms away.

“You heard the lady, Peaches, hands off the merchandise,” a voice said from behind her and Angel vamped out. Buffy turned only to meet a pair of bluer than blue eyes that she felt could see right through her.

“You won’t get what you want, Spike,” Angel growled, trying to seem even more imposing due to the height difference between himself and the other two present.

“And what is it that I want Angelus, since you know me so well and all?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow and a disbelieving look on his face.

“You won’t kill this Slayer,” Angel proclaimed with finality.

“Fascinating as this testosterone comparing match is, who the hell are you and what makes you think you can kill me?” Buffy took out a stake and twirled it in her hand to prove her point. “In the end you all dust the same.”

“First, who said anything about me wanting you dead except that poncy bugger trying to defend a chit stronger than himself? Second, not ALL vamps dust the same as you well know. I seem to recall seeing the Master’s bones recently.” He took a step back, avoiding Buffy as she lunged towards him and tripping her at the same time. Carried by his momentum, he kicked backward, catching Angel’s kneecap as he tried to take advantage of his distraction. “Come on! I didn’t come here to fight you, I came to join you.” That stopped both the Slayer and Angel in their tracks.

“What do you mean join?” asked Angel as his hand was once again slapped away when he tried to help Buffy stand up.

“Fight the good fight, help the white hats, stray from my path of evil, whatever you want to call it.” He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, speaking as the smoke billowed out of his mouth, seemingly giving his words a visible form. “I want to take down that overbearing git Absalom, the tyke that thinks he’s king, Colin and all the rest of the pathetic excuses for vampires that call this town home.” He took another drag of the cigarette and started blowing rings in the night air.

“Why? What is it with you vamps all of a sudden? Is teaming up with the Slayer the new kink?” Buffy asked, furious that everybody seemed to want in on her fight.

“No, but now that you mention it.” Spike leered, his hands going to his pockets and outlining the hard-on Buffy was fighting not to notice.

“You’re lying, this is a trap,” Angel stated with finality, his hands going to his own hair to check it for damage. Thankfully, everything was still in place.

“I’m the liar of the family now? I wonder how Lawson is doing these days. Do you know?” At Buffy’s puzzled look, he decided to expand, “Lawson is a guy Angelus here turned back during world war two. All souled up and still a poofter.”

“I had a very good reason for that.” Angel tried to silence Spike with an uppercut but his fist met only air. The retaliatory punch to the back of the neck sent him sprawling, though. Finding his attack foiled, he decided to reassess the young upstart and he straightened up, casually prepared for anything.

“Are you two done yet?” Seeing Angel’s contrite look and Spike’s noncommittal shrug, she threw her hands up in desperation. “Can we just go rescue my friends now or should I get a ruler so you two can measure up some more?”

Grinning widely Spike extended his hand towards where the vampire lair was. “I like you, you have spunk. It would make a fight with you much more enjoyable.” Seeing her tensed back and clenched fists, he hastily added, “But we’ve settled on a truce, right? I help you lot get rid of that lot and you leave ol’ Spike and Dru to unlive another day.”

“Dru, who the hell is Dru?” Buffy asked with suspicion clearly showing on her face.

“Why don’t you ask soul-boy over there about that little bit of information as well? He’s the one that made her. Then she made me and became my salvation, my Princess, my ripe wicked Plum,” Spike said with a far away look tinged with just a bit of sadness.

“Did she dump you again, William? Is that the reason for all this?” Angel sneered, trying to make Buffy see that the vampire before them was less than nothing and deserved to be put down.

“She wants to raise her precious Great-Granddaddy. And I’m betting she wants to see what alley rats you’ve been eating recently. By the way, when did you get from that to staking the Bitch and helping the Slayer?”

“I’m the Chosen Champion of the Powers that Be,” Angel recited proudly only to be stopped by Spike’s gales of laughter.

“You’re what? Are you sure that Dru’s craziness comes just from the torture you inflicted and not from your tainted blood? You pompous git, there is just one Chosen One and she’s a bird. She’s the Slayer and she’s standing right next to you, you pillock. What, was you torturing, raping, sodomizing and finally killing that gipsy bint part of the Powers’ plan?” After saying that, Spike evaded another attack by an enraged Angel, blocking his fist and jumping over the leg that was supposed to topple him. Jumping back, he grinned, continuing his diatribe, “So is this how you help the Slayer? Try to kill the ones that want to throw in their lot with hers?”

Buffy ended the escalading fight by getting Angel in a headlock. “Is what he’s saying true?” she asked, and the coldness of her voice sent a shiver of foreboding down Spike’s back. For a split second he almost felt sorry for Peaches, but just for one second.

“Let me go Buffy, we’re on the same side,” Angel tried to plead with her.

“Is. It. True?” she ground our through clenched teeth.

“I can explain-”

Buffy shoved Angel away in disgust and put a foot on his chest when he rolled over. “We are so over it’s not even funny.”

His pleading eyes and tortured look tried to soften the scarily cold Slayer. “It was in the past. Each day I have to atone for my sins and I cannot change who Angelus was. But I’m not him anymore; I’m Angel and I have a soul.”

“So that’s the rot you keep tellin’ people these days? That Angelus and you are two different people? That’s bollocks and you know it. You’re the same old Angelus with a new toy. And Lawson and that boy you drank in China back when you tried to prove to us the soul wasn’t gonna change you proves my point.”

“You what?” Buffy asked with horror filling her eyes.

“He ate someone during the Boxer Rebellion trying to prove to the old Bitch that they could still shag and kill. I’m guessin’ that’s another thing he didn’t tell you lot. So how’s the soul making you do good, Peaches?”

“And why were you there? You killed a Slayer then and I heard you killed another one in New York twenty years ago.”

Buffy turned her eyes on Spike, reappraising him as a greater threat. He shrugged again.

“I did at that. Drank the first and snapped the second one’s neck. I’m evil, it’s what I do. But I never lie about what my intentions are and I’m not gonna turn on you, Slayer. I need your help to get my Princess back and that’s worth more than the fame offing you would bring me. I have enough fame as the youngest Master Vampire, the only one to off two Slayers in a century and all that rot.”

“Once you start something you don’t stop until everything is dead in your path, Spike, why should we believe you?” Angel protested again, feeling Buffy’s foot grow a little lax on his chest.

“That’s right, Peaches. And once I promise something, I keep my promises. I want you to help me stop the Master’s resurrection and to get my Dru back. After that I promise I’m out of your hair, Slayer.”

Looking between the two vampires Buffy tried to decide who to believe and what she wanted to do from now on. She knew that her choice would mean more than what was going to happen with the Master’s minions and she wondered if she was ready for all it entailed.