He was restless.



The words “caged lion” passed through his mind a few times. He should have been resting, getting his strength up for what was sure to be a very taxing day, and yet he couldn’t. She was right there. I can still feel her warmth on my skin where we touched. God, I love her!



The mangled pack of cigarettes lay on the slanted table where he’d thrown it in one of the previous debates on whether to quell his nerves or adhere to her rules. He had chosen the latter, but he still eyed the crumpled paper and its nicotine content every few seconds. He felt so wired, wanted to smash everything in his room. Too bad he’d already done it as soon as he’d been left alone. Actually, this is the bloody Watcher’s room, so it deserves everythin’ it’s got. Wreckin' this place up only improved it. Not like he’ll come from the Ice Tower to redecorate or anythin’, anyway.



Feeling a bit better about his housewarming present to the now-absent Giles, Spike wracked his brain for something else that would keep him busy and away from… To hell with it. Striding to the door with determination, his movements came to a quiet stop once the metal of the knob was in his hand. He opened the door, taking care not to make any noise, then stealthily made his way down the corridor to the door he knew led to Buffy’s bedroom. Up here, in the uppermost floor of the secluded North Wing, where only the most important people were lodged, there would be no danger of anyone discovering him.



Dawn and Xander, who occupied the nearest two bedrooms, were away, while Willow and Alia’s room was too distant for them to hear anything. Still, the door at the very end, the residence of the Lady of the Castle, held the greatest prize Spike had ever wanted, and, as he approached it, he became increasingly nervous.



He stopped inches away from the solid wooden door separating him from the leader of all the Slayers, and held his seldom-needed-breath. Narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows in concentration, he strained to hear anything that could betray the happenings on the other side. Slowly, ever so, he pressed his ear to the cold surface and closed his eyes, his palms spread out for balance. After mentally sifting through background noise and any other disturbance, he used every bit of his vampiric hearing to make sure that he wasn’t mistaken.



He could swear his heart beat once when he finally caught on to what Buffy was up to, a smirk blossoming on his face. Well, well, well, the Slayer’s beatin’ off. Indeed, even the heavy wooden door was unable to hide the obvious sounds of pleasure that the woman inside was making. The subtle sighs and gasps, even the rhythmic sound of wet friction was enough for his ears to recognize the action he’d made her perform for him on several occasions, the one that had fueled many a sleepless night’s fantasies.



As Spike stood there, a guilty voyeur unable to even see his quarry, his resolve to knock on her door dissolved. Instead, he listened as the woman of many of his dreams climaxed, the final scream that accompanied her throws of passion leaving him at once stunned and ecstatic. Bloody hell, she called my name!.



Unable to form a proper thought, he half-stumbled backwards, his limbs grasped by trembling weakness. Despite the urge to barge in and call her out on what she'd just done—something he might have done, back in the day—he retraced his steps and carefully closed the door behind him and collapsed on his bed. There, he allowed his whirling thoughts and feelings course through him, letting them run their course and attempting to grasp the meaning of it all. At least I know she still wanks off to me.



Despite his best efforts, the hope that there was still a chance for them kept him up the better part of the night, making him think of different ways to get her to open up to him again. Finally, in the moments just before sunrise, he managed to fall asleep, a smile firmly placed on his lips.



~~~***~~~



*Rome Ciampino Airport, Ciampino, Italy*



A jet liner was being hastily refueled for the trip back to Scotland, the two passengers it had been waiting for in the process of boarding. There to greet them was none other than Alia, dressed in fatigues, with a leather jacket, her hair tied in a pony tail. Although nothing was showing, it was clear the Slayer was also armed to the teeth, something that, coupled with the way she was scanning the area for threats and her straight posture belied her normally gentle personality.



After warm, but brief hugs, Alia ushered her charges in, closing the door behind them, in preparation for the approaching departure. The sooner they all got out of the country and back to the relative safety of the Slayer Castle, the better. Finally able to relax a fraction, she admired the ring proudly displayed by a radiant Dawn.



“I'm very happy for you two. I think it's useless to say that most of us Slayers see Dawn as our sister, so,” she said, pinning Xander with a fierce glare she must have practiced in front of the mirror, “if you ever hurt her, there are a lot of people willing to exact revenge on you.” Laughter spoiled the image she was trying so hard to portray, as both women dissolved into giggles at the horror apparent in Xander's eye. “Seems someone forgot there are always strings attached.”



Smiling benevolently, the Tactical Officer of the Slayer Army hugged his fiancée. “I didn't forget, but I'd be willing to take on more than just the Slayers for my girl.”



Alia watched with warmth in her heart as Dawn rewarded her man with a kiss that conveyed more than words ever could, even to an outside observer. Regretfully snapping out of her reverie, the young Slayer sat down and looked at her watch, wishing time to fly a bit faster so she, too, could find herself near her beloved. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she once again trained her sights on the now-seated and subdued couple.



“We should be leaving soon. My car will be waiting for us to get you back to the Castle.” Alia frowned as she looked at the worried expressions of her companions. “What's wrong?”



“That Immortal guy is giving me the creeps, even after all this time.” Xander shuddered once for good measure. “And the things he said...” The words seemed to just drift away, as he gripped Dawn's hand with renewed intensity. “Wait till the Buffster hears about this!”



“Why didn't you call her?” Alia was now in what could only be described as Slayer-mode, rechecking all the possible threats, assessing possibilities and trying to gather as much information as possible. The short-lived happy reunion was now just a distant memory for the three fighters against the forces of evil.



“The same reason why Georgia didn't. Both the Immortal and Buffster number two believe that out communication may be compromised.” Lowering his voice to the lowest possible level and leaning closer to Alia, Xander whispered his worries. “Everything around us may have been compromised.” Straightening in his chair, he pinned the woman in front of him with his one-eyed stare. “That's why we should be extra careful.”



Deciding it was time to break some of the gloom and doom of the situation, Dawn adopted the patented Summers’ Pout and huffed in annoyance. “I just knew something would happen and spoil me telling everyone the big news.” Both Alia and Xander managed to chuckle at her antics, just as the pilot announced the private jet was about to take off. Dawn silently thanked her sister for sending Alia with the plane for them; speed was of the essence now.



~~~***~~~



Mark was woken up by his cell-phone ringing off its proverbial hook. Mumbling a few choice curses, he managed to grab for it and press the appropriate button. “This better be good!”



”Sir, we have news of the target. He's reached the destination sometime within the last eight hours.”



Fully awake now, Mark's brain processed the information almost disbelievingly. In a calm voice that belied his true fury, he tried to assess the extent of the damage. “I distinctly remember telling you to announce me the second that happened. Now give me all the details.”



He listened with growing anger as his operatives described being fooled by the bleached menace, then fumbling around for hours until they were almost caught by a Slayer patrol. Their only redeeming quality was finding the owner of the car Spike had used and shaking him up for information. Apparently the vampire had utilized some very old demon connections and had arranged for his transportation in Scotland before leaving London. Filing away the news that there were still some demon grapevines left unchecked, Mark reprimanded his team and instructed them to return to base. There was no use leaving them there, where they could be discovered by the Slayers in a matter of hours.



Getting out of bed, he put his suit on without a second look at the previous night's companion. She was irrelevant to him, as his mind struggled to figure out a way of explaining the failed mission as a success to his boss.



~~~***~~~



Spike woke up suddenly when he heard a muffled murmur outside his door. Apparently Buffy and Willow were busy discussing something. Clearing out the last remnants of his Slayer-filled dreams, he maneuvered through the rubble of the Watcher's furniture and belongings, and approached the door, intent on listening in.



He stopped dead in his tracks when the door opened, revealing a deliciously rumpled Slayer and a worried-looking witch right behind her. The three just stood there, looking at each other, none sure exactly of what would happen next. The first to move was Buffy, who raised her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock.



“You're in the sun.” The statement was made by the completely gobsmacked Willow, who was obviously trying to wrap her mind around that seemingly simple fact with little success. Before she could investigate further, however, Buffy stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.



Spike, after having relaxed somewhat, tensed up again when he saw the silent tears running down Buffy's cheeks. Her eyes, always so expressive, especially to him, conveyed a mix of grief and elation that left him confused. “Kitten, what's wrong?” he asked, using the same tone of voice he once had to whisper comforting words in those final months in Sunnyhell. Tentatively extending a hand towards her, he was taken by surprise by the familiarity of her entwining her fingers with his.



In a trembling voice laced with tears, Buffy finally broke her silence. “That last time, down there, you were also bathed in sunlight.” She swallowed, trying to get the courage to keep going. “You burned down there, after I told you...”



She stopped, right when Spike felt like his unbeating heart would burst from the tension. He desperately wanted her to finish her sentence, at the same time terrified that she might. What if he had been right back then? What if she really hadn't meant it? What if she took back the sweetest words he'd ever heard in all his years? Then again, what if she didn't? What if she told him again that she loved him? He loved her, that was obvious as it had always been, but could they actually make it work?



They stood there, bathed in the light of the early morning sun, neither daring to move, neither daring to speak. So many memories had been stirred up with so few words, that they both felt choked up. Her tears were still flowing, but she paid no mind to them.



Before he could stop and really think about it, Spike heard himself start talking. “No God-awful necklace, or Death Ray shooting out of my chest this time, though.” Looking down at their clasped hands, he caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “No flamin' palms, either.” Or you tellin' me you love me. Tell me something, kitten. Tell me!



She felt like choking up, then made to pull back, only to have him tighten his hold on her hand. With a sob that heralded the proverbial breaking of the clouds, Buffy hugged Spike desperately, clinging to him with all she was worth, crying her heartache out.



Spike held her to him, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and telling her that he would never leave her again. In his mind, he pleaded to any and all gods who would listen to not make a liar out of him.



~~~***~~~



It was nearing noon when the car with Alia, Dawn, Xander and Alia's Russian teammate, Yatviga, approached the grounds surrounding the Slayer Castle. Yatviga, being the most well-rested of the group, was the one at the wheel of the white four-by-four. The other three—despite being used to long nights and little sleep—were dead on their feet, the emotional tension of the previous days spent running all over Europe finally catching up with them.



Yatviga was the first to notice that something was amiss. The patrollers were more alert; despite being known by the girls at the castle gate, she was double-checked and the car was searched. Nobody would tell her anything, though, letting her thoughts drift towards the worst possible scenarios, especially taking into account the silence of her companions. Looking quickly over her shoulder, she noticed everyone in the car was on edge, scanning their surroundings, no doubt just as worried about the changes since their departure.



Finally reaching the main building, the four travelers exited the vehicle and started to unload their bags, all the while keeping their eyes peeled for any other clues to the reason for the state of alert. A younger Slayer came to help them get their luggage inside. Soon after, Willow came out to greet them, hugging her lover tightly and kissing her passionately, then hugging Xander and Dawn in turn.



“What's the what, Wills? Are we under attack?” Xander asked once the customary hellos were out of the way.



The redhead's eyes darted from him to Dawn, as she shifted from foot to foot. “Not really.” After obviously trying to put thoughts into words a few times without great success, she huffed and took a deep breath. “Let's go to Buffy by the fountain. You'll get it when we get there.” Without waiting for anyone to acknowledge her words, she took off in the direction of the garden, dragging Alia behind her by the hand. Shrugging, the other three former occupants of the car followed her, leaving the bags for the young Slayer helper to sort out.



Maneuvering through the hedge-maze with practiced ease, they all gathered at the entrance to the middle circle, stunned beyond words by the sight before them. There, next to Buffy in her traditional meditation spot, and unaffected by sunlight, was seated a clearly undusty and smiling Spike. Dawn filed away the information that their hands were entwined before she leaped ahead and tackled the vampire, alternating between hugging him tight and swatting at him, all the while squealing and talking a mile a minute.



Xander, after regaining control of his vocal cords, decided to ask the question on everyone's mind. “What the hell are you doing in the sun, Captain Peroxide?”



Giving the former carpenter the once-over, Spike answered over the shoulder of the still babbling and clinging Dawn. “Long story, that.” Looking over both the familiar and unfamiliar faces, he continued. “I guess since we're all here, I can give you the long version.”



Xander moved closer and took a seat on the bench closest to Buffy, his face betraying his weariness. “If it's long, it'll have to wait.” Looking at the leader of the Slayers, he started delivering his news. “We're gonna have to check everything for bugs and cameras, just like with the Nerd Trio. Drac really did a number on us.”



The benevolent smile that had blossomed on Buffy's face disappeared, as she focused on what Xander had to say. “What happened?”



“Well, we spoke to the Immortal, and he had a lot of things to tell us.” He then proceeded to tell everyone about the news he'd uncovered, everyone but Dawn becoming more and more worried with each sentence.



He told them how the Immortal and the Italian Buffy were in love and had decided to retire after this one last fight. The fight with Dracula for the future of the world. The Immortal, through his network of spies, had uncovered at least part of a plot by which demon armies, led by the Dark Lord, were already on the march, taking over strongholds throughout Eastern Europe and moving further, co-opting their vanquished foes to swell their own numbers.



Dracula must have been planning this move all along, leading the Immortal to conclude that he must have infiltrated the Slayers to gather information and do away with his competitors. The Slayer Castle and any other Chapter could be under surveillance, or even worse, under direct threat of being attacked at any moment. The Athens, Budapest and Istanbul squads were the ones in greatest danger of being overrun within the week, but they had to make sure their communication wasn't being monitored before they could do anything.



~~~***~~~



*Dracula's Headquarters, Sighisoara, Romania*



A minion burst into the chamber shared by Dracula and his two consorts, angering the naked elder vampire. After pinning the intruder to the wall with a strong and steady hand, Vlad spoke to him, showing off his fangs. “You have five seconds to convince me you deserve the mercy of our Lord and Savior.”



Frightened and quivering, the minion struggled to get his words out of his almost crushed throat. “The Slayers. They know of our surveillance and are sweeping their Castle and outposts for microphones and cameras.”



With a chilling smile, Dracula released his captive, grabbing Drusilla by the hair and shoving his still erect cock deep in her mouth. “We knew this would happen. Alert our troops to be on the lookout for Slayer counterattacks. Prioritize Athens and Istanbul and give the word to the Budapest flank to attack immediately.” Keeping his eyes on the sight of Kennedy using a whip to redden Drusilla's ass, he made a dismissive gesture at the minion, who slithered out of the room, thankful for his continued existence.



“I always knew leaving the Immortal for later could prove costly. No matter; he'll fall before the Army of God like the rest, isn't that right, my sweet?” He withdrew from the woman blowing him so that she could answer him.



“We'll paint his skin in lovely shades of purple and black, and then he'll go to meet my Mummy.” Her face betrayed sadness as her eyes drifted to some unfathomable distance. “I miss Mummy.”



Kneeling next to the crazy vampire, Dracula motioned for Kennedy to join him in hugging the distraught woman. “There, there. We'll redeem her soul and you'll be reunited with her in the Kingdom to come.”



The three vampires spent the remainder of the day playing games with each other and celebrating the beginning of their Crusade.



~~~***~~~



*Oslo Airport, Gardermoen, Norway*



Erika and Oz arrived at the airport and checked in. Neither betrayed any emotion as they stood stoically in the waiting area of the gate, the only tell-tale sign they were together being their clasped hands. Despite the outward calm, Erika was worried, both because of the mission she had undertaken, and because of the imminent meeting with a woman that had meant so much for her mate. It wasn't that she was worried she might lose him, but she was worried she could fall short on some level, being compared to a Wiccan even the revered Maryun saw as very powerful.



Displaying the same intuition she'd come to love, Oz squeezed her hand tighter and leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Mate.” The single word conveyed more from Oz than entire speeches from others. Her heart swelled, her doubts and worries abating under the secure knowledge that they belonged to each other in a way that allowed no room for deception or doubt. She raised his hand with hers and kissed his knuckles, nuzzling the limb with her cheek before lowering it on the armrests of the airport chairs.



Sharing an almost secretive and furtive smile, the two settled to wait for the flight that would take them to the Slayers.