Chapter 1

Spike turned as he watched Willy burst in through the double doors leading into the main sanctum of the church.

“Are you tripping?! You bring her here? Now?” he roared as he came down from the pulpit and walked towards the small group surrounding the Slayer.

“You said you wanted her,” Willy whined.

“In the ground, pinhead. I wanted her dead!” he growled, his fangs mere inches from the bartender’s face.

“Now, that’s not what I heard. Word was there was a bounty on her, dead or alive.”

“You heard wrong, Willy.” His amber gaze narrowed on the idiot that had brought the Slayer to him – right when he was trying to finish his revitalization spell.

“Angel?” Buffy whispered, horrified at seeing both him and Drusilla lashed together and suspended from the church ceiling, their arms held clasped together by the knife imbedded in both of their hands.

Spike turned away from contemplating the bartender’s death to reply snarkily, “Yeah, it bugs me, too, seeing them like that. Another five minutes though, and Angel will be dead, so… I forebear. Don’t feel bad for Angel, though, he’s got something you don’t have.”

“What’s that?” she asked, her face scrunching in a sneer.

“Five minutes.”

Spike’s gaze shifted to the red-haired woman from the Order of Taraka.

“Patrice.”

The woman needed no further urging, quickly shoving the Slayer into the waiting arms of the minion standing next to her. Reaching into her holster, she extracted a pistol, prepared to finish her contractual obligation and kill the girl. Before the assassin had a chance to make good on her threat, a commotion sounded somewhere behind the group.

The two minions standing in back of the woman were kicked aside, and as everyone tumbled forward, Buffy was able to jerk free from their grasp. She quickly regrouped and both she and Kendra stood before Spike as he managed to regain his footing.

“Who the hell is this?” he demanded.

Kendra grabbed Spike by the lapels of his leather duster.

“It’s your lucky day, Spike,” Buffy announced from beside the girl, the sarcasm dripping from her voice like honey.

“Two slayers,” Kendra added, just before she punched him. The power of her left cross sent Spike’s head snapping to the side.

“No waiting,” Buffy finished, delivering a sharp right jab to Spike’s nose and he toppled to the floor. Then, she turned and confronted the red-haired woman decked out in police garb, leaving Kendra to deal with Spike.

Buffy mentally prepared herself as her opponent thrust her arms out to the side and two deadly blades slid free from their hiding place inside her police jacket. They eyed each other, assessing possible battle scenarios as a vampire slowly gained his feet near them. Buffy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and watched as an arrow suddenly imbedded itself in the front of his chest where his heart lay, moments before turning to dust.

The cavalry had arrived.

Just then, the woman attacked. One hand followed the other as she attempted to gut her target.

Buffy blocked each attack, grabbing first one arm then the other then delivered a knee to the woman’s stomach, following in quick succession with a swift kick that sent the woman flying back against the far wall.

~*~

On the other side of the room, Kendra was engaged in a fierce battle with Spike. The two traded blows back and forth, neither able to gain the upper hand. 

Unfortunately, Kendra was getting winded. And Spike was nowhere near being tired.

~*~

Buffy easily sent the female assassin reeling into the wall over and over again, the woman no match against her slayer strength. She could sense Kendra weakening behind her, could hear Spike taunt the girl as his blows continued to connect with the other slayer’s body. 

Shoving the redheaded woman away from her once more, Buffy turned and called out, “Switch!”

Kendra, thankfully, needed no further urgings. Rolling over her sister slayer’s back and confronting the female assassin, she delivered a kick to the woman that sent her flying back into the wall yet again.

~*~

Once Kendra had cleared her back, Buffy stood and confronted Spike, arms poised before her in a defensive stance. 

“I’d rather be fighting you anyway,” Spike announced, his gaze narrowing on the blonde who now stood before him.

“Mutual.”

Spike moved to attack, but Buffy sent him staggering back with a front kick to the face followed by a roundhouse to his stomach. It didn’t stop him for long, and he rushed towards her, fists flying in a blur of motion that Buffy was just barely able to block. She faltered and Spike was able to deliver a jarring punch to her stomach momentarily knocking the wind from her. It didn’t keep her down long however, and she countered with a punch that snapped his head back, followed by a quick backhanded blow to the face using the same hand. Grabbing the front of Spike’s jacket, she twirled him around to gain momentum, before launching him into the air. His body sailed halfway across the room before landing with a thud among the rubble.

Spike recovered quickly enough, a growl emanating from deep within his chest. Turning, he caught sight of the traitorous bartender and moved to intercept his escape. He was just about to bite the man when he noticed the Slayer trying to pull Angel down from his tether.

He rushed after her, throwing her away from the pair before she was able to get his grandsire free. As she started to rise, he backhanded her, sending her to the floor once more.

~*~

Across the room, Kendra went flying over a pew. Her attacker vaulted over it, swinging her arms in an attempt to draw blood.

The dark-skinned girl wasn’t on Patrice’s current contract, but she didn’t think the Order would mind too much. Her blade managed to connect with the Slayer’s arms, tearing her sleeve and leaving a horizontal slash across her upper arm.

“That’s me favorite shirt!” Kendra bellowed, anger rising in her voice as she took in the ruined item. “That’s me only shirt!”

Furious, Kendra kicked the woman in the back of the leg, then grabbed the front of her coat and threw her into a support beam. The assassin struggled to her feet, kicking the debris off her as she lunged forward.

Kendra was waiting for the attack; as the woman launched herself forward, she used the woman’s momentum to fling her across the room behind her. Unfortunately, Kendra didn’t see where she was throwing the woman.

The assassin’s arms flailed wide as she soared through the air towards the bound vampires.

Since Drusilla was slumped backwards, her back almost parallel to the floor, Patricia sailed between the two instead of into the pair as they dangled in the air. She tried to bring her arms together in front of her in an attempt to break her headlong rush into the far wall that was rapidly approaching. By some cruel twist of fate, the blades that extended from her arms sliced through the necks of the two bound vampires as she attempted to brace herself for impact. The sound of her slamming into the wall prevented her from hearing the two demons crumble to dust behind her.

It didn’t prevent her from hearing the simultaneous bellows of rage behind her.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy had just regained her footing when she saw the woman, Patrice, fly through the air towards where Angel and Drusilla hung suspended from the ceiling. She ignored Spike as he moved to strike her again, instead remaining transfixed on the scene playing out in slow motion behind him. Her horror must have been evident on her face, because suddenly Spike stopped mid-attack to see what had happened to cause her to ignore him completely.

He turned just in time to watch the Order’s female assassin sail between the two.

“Dru?” he managed to whisper. Vaguely, he thought her heard the Slayer behind him mumble Angel’s name.

Then his world fell apart. He watched as the woman crashed into the wall moments before his sire and grandsire crumbled to dust.

“Drusilla!”

“Angel!”

The two cried out at the same time, staring aghast at the empty dangling ropes. 

Buffy was the first to react, practically vaulting over Spike to reach the spot where Angel once hung. Spike wasn’t that far behind her. The two stared down at the twin piles of dust on the raised, red platform. Neither acknowledged the other, both overcome by grief that quickly turned to a burning rage.

Their heads popped up, fixated on the moan emanating from the woman as she struggled to her feet. Twin pairs of eyes narrowed on the woman leaning heavily on the wall behind her, her labored breathing coming in shuddering gasps.

A low growl sounded near her, and the assassin looked up in time to see the blond vampire leap at her. 

Furious beyond belief, Spike grabbed the woman by her throat and lifted her one-handed into the air. 

“You killed my Dark Princess, you bloody bitch!” he raged and he slowly squeezed her neck, crushing her windpipe.

Buffy watched Spike as he slowly choked the life from the human, and she couldn’t seem to make herself care. If he hadn’t done it, she was sure that the redheaded assassin would have become her first human kill. Not that she really thought of the woman as human…

The woman was a member of the Order of Taraka, and that made her fair game.

She glanced back down at the two identical piles of dust. She couldn’t leave them there like that. It just didn’t seem right.

Turning away, she let her eyes roam over the dilapidated church, trying to find something to put the ashes in, and encountered the stunned faces of the Scoobies as they stood on the far side of steadily growing fire that had created a wall between them. She figured she had another five minutes at most before the blaze engulfed the entire church, so she forced herself to move.

Shouting for the others to leave and that she’d catch up with them later, Buffy turned away and began scanning the ruins for something to hold the two sets of ashes. Even in her pain, she wouldn’t be so cruel as to grab Angel’s and not Drusilla’s. Her eyes finally lighted on two small, metal containers, and she hurried back to the piles as the flames work their way up the side of one wall.

Squatting down on the steps, she carefully brushed first one and then the other mound of dust into the two separate containers. She glanced up when she was finished to see Spike still dangling the helpless woman from his raised arm. He obviously had every intention of taking his time killing her, but unfortunately, time wasn’t on their side.

“Spike?”

“Spike!”

His head swiveled at her shout, demon eyes narrowing on her face. He just now seemed to realize the blaze erupting behind him.

“We’ve got to get out of here. This place is going to go up any minute now. Kill her and let’s go.”

Her words shocked him, causing him to gape at her in astonishment. Then a reluctant half-smile played across his lips and he turned back to the woman he still held suspended in the air.

“You heard the lady. Time to die.”

He let her slide down so her feet were barely touching the ground. In a practiced move, he brought his other hand up to her head, and with a quick twist he broke her neck, allowing her limp body to fall to the ground. He gazed down at her for a moment before he turned towards the Slayer.

“The side exit! Hurry!” she called, grabbing the two containers and making a mad dash for the door. Spike was right behind her, leery of the flames licking close to their heels.

The two burst through the door and into the night. Buffy stopped once she cleared the building to suck in some much-needed air into her lungs, her body bent over the two containers held protectively in her grasp.

Spike watched silently while the Slayer coughed repeatedly from all the smoke-filled air she had inhaled. He made no move to attack her, unable to do away with the girl while they were both reeling from their loss.

A brief smile lit his face recalling how she’d shouted for him to kill the woman already. He had to wonder what her watcher would say about that. Probably nothing good.

Honoring their unspoken truce, he turned to walk away, leaving the Slayer to make her way back to her friends. They could always resume their battle of wits tomorrow. Besides, he needed some time to lick his wounds in the aftermath of his sire’s dusting.

Then he heard her voice softly call his name. He glanced over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

“A truce, Slayer,” he told her tiredly. “Just for tonight. It won’t ever happen again.”

He started to walk off again into the night, but she called his name again… a little louder this time.

He stopped where he was, gazing off into the distance.

“Here.”

Spike turned and saw the Slayer carrying two containers, one held outstretched in her arm. The blaze, as it enveloped the church, illuminated her face, and he saw the telltale signs of her tears as they slipped unheeded down her face. He knew how she felt, and when he was alone, he’d probably give in to the emotions already evident on her features. His gaze slid from her face to take in the box she held out to him.

She didn’t say anything. Just waited. When he still made no move to take it, she realized that he probably didn’t know what it was. He’d been so intent on killed the person that had murdered Angel and Drusilla, he hadn’t noticed as she’d scooped their ashes into the containers.

His blue eyes shifted from the container back to her face. She was trying desperately not to break down completely, as if saying anything would make it more real, more final. She started forward, closing the distance between them.

“It’s…” she tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. “It’s… Drusilla.”

Spike stared down at the box she had suddenly thrust into his hands. His eyes were fixated on the container as the Slayer turned and walked away. The tears he’d held at bay glimmered in his eyes; the realization that his sire was no more, her remains lying nestled within the confines of the box held dearly in his hands ripped violently through his body. In that brief moment, his Big Bad persona was gone. In his place stood the lost soul of William, beaten and broken by the society of long ago.

He didn’t know what to say. He’d been so busy seeking his revenge, he’d never stopped to think about the pile of ashes his sire had become. But, the Slayer had. She’d not only scooped up her lost love’s, she taken a moment to grab her mortal enemy’s. He was at a loss.

That the Slayer would show that type of compassion…

Words escaped him.

In the end, he whispered a soft thank you to her retreating back. Watched as she paused momentarily in her tracks before giving him a sharp nod and then resumed her pace.

Spike, too, turned and made his way into the night. 

next

Want to leave a REVIEW?