Disclaimer:
US government facility
for the rehabilitation of young ladies.
Los Angeles
Dear Slayer,
I have a plan to get
you out of where you are.
It has recently been
brought to my attention that you, me and all the other people
in Sunnyhell are owned by some pillock called Joss Whedon
(who appears to have brought us all forth fully formed from
his imagination) and by the various companies that he formed
or that bought bits of us from him, like ME, UPN and Fox.
I would imagine that
life isn't too great for you where you are. Round here things
have been pretty miserable. My theory is that this Joss
wanker is going through some sort of depression and it's
feeding through to all the things that are happening round
here. Just one more person who likes to cheer themselves
up with a round of "Kick the Spike."
Now I reckon that a
bit of "Slayer lovin'" would do wonders to improve the emotional
inadequacy of this Joss guy, and I'm sure that after a couple
of years in there you're feeling the need for some masculine
company. Failing that you may be able to slip some sort
of mood enhancing drug into his coffee. He would surely
then arrange for you to get probation or something.
In addition he would
almost certainly give us here on the Hellmouth a bit of
a break from the pit of despair that Sunnyhell seems to
have become.
Please reply if you
think you can help us out with this problem.
Tarrah for now, pet.
Spike a.k.a. William
PS I would ask Buffy to do it, but when
we're on speaking terms I prefer to keep her to myself,
and when we're not then she wouldn't do a damn thing for
me anyway.
Chapter 10
Spike continued his walk. Three hours later
he was still following no set route, but now moving in the
general direction of home. He planned to make the final
approach to the crypt via the underground tunnels just in
case the cemetery was once again under surveillance but
for the moment he was taking a zigzag path through alleys
to reach the tunnel entrance he preferred.
She was still thinking about it, and that
gave him some hope. He was also disappointed, saddened that
when he asked for so little it would take her so long before
she'd even concede that much. He saw an empty can lying
in the gutter and swung at it with his foot, launching it
fifty yards down the road. He was slightly startled when
he realised he had almost hit someone coming in the opposite
direction. The back alleys of Sunnyhell were generally avoided
by all but the city's bravest denizens at this time of night.
Even with superhuman eyesight, with few streetlights he
was pretty close when he realised that the figure was neither
human nor vampire, but demon.
As he moved closer, he raised a hand in
greeting. "Sorry 'bout the can. Din't see you were there,
mate."
The demon was about half a head taller
than Spike. Its skin was a pinkish red shade with large
dark coloured sores and it had a mouth full of pointed yellowing
teeth that almost resembled a muzzle. The hair on its head
was thin and straggly. Getting closer, Spike was almost
sure it was female. He was sure it was holding a stake.
With a growl, it lunged toward him, and Spike countered
with a roundhouse kick that knocked the wood flying from
her hand. Spike tried to place the demon, knowing that there
was something important he needed to remember.
Now that the demon was disarmed Spike felt
far better about his chances. As long as the stake stayed
lost and the fight finished before sunrise all he had to
worry about was having his head pulled off or fire. Spike
traded a couple of punches with the demon, neither really
gaining an advantage, each equally strong. Spike watched
the large almost tentacled hand come towards his face and
as he twisted aside to avoid the blow something clicked
in his brain. "Bloody Hell! What goes around comes around."
He aimed a couple of kicks at the creature and waited for
his opportunity.
As the demon threw another left-handed
punch towards Spike's head, he grabbed the incoming fist
in his right hand, ducked under the blow and moved round
behind the demon forcing her arm behind her back. Then with
the help of her own momentum he pushed her headfirst towards
the nearest wall. He used his left hand to ram her head
repeatedly into the wall to no apparent effect, whilst keeping
her left hand twisted behind her back. Still he tried to
remember just what it was about this particular type of
demon that lay just beyond his mental grasp. With some effort
he managed to pull the ring from the oversized fingers.
Releasing his grip on the hand he had been holding, he sprang
backwards before the demon could turn to continue the fight.
Spike couldn't believe it. Despite six
or seven vampire-assisted head-butts to the wall the demon's
face was unmarred. Realisation came. It was a Parov demon.
It could only be killed by drowning. Spike struggled to
maintain his defence whilst searching frantically for any
accumulation of rainwater large enough to drown the creature.
For once in it had been raining solidly for two days; somewhere
there must be something. The flow of water in the gutters
was shallow, and no other possible solution presented itself.
Hoping that the creature was at least dazed from its collisions
with the wall, Spike took to his heels, listening intently
for any sounds indicating a pursuit.
It appeared that either the creature had
been dazed by his attack or it knew that it couldn't match
his pace. Spike reached an entrance to the tunnels under
the town without further incident. If he had a Parov demon
after him, he was going to stick to the sewers and the storm
drains. No travelling above ground unless absolutely necessary.
He made his way back to the magic shop.
It was less likely they'd have it staked out than Buffy's
place. Whoever wanted him out of the way had just upped
the ante. He needed to leave Sunnydale tonight and he couldn't
take the de Soto.
He took a seat at the research table and
opened one of the bottles he'd bought. Remarkably both had
survived the fight, one in either pocket of his duster.
His carton of cigarettes however had been abandoned in the
gutter. He took a couple of swigs from the bottle and then
loosely replaced the cap, making sure it could be quickly
removed. Then he repeated the process with the second bottle.
He stripped off his top half, wadding up his T-shirt before
replacing his shirt and coat. He replaced the bottles in
the coat pockets and pushed the T-shirt in around one of
them. At least now if he ran into the Parov again if he
could pin it down he could soak the T-shirt and hold it
over its nose and mouth. It might work.
After some internal debate, he decided
to risk phoning Buffy. Part of him didn't want to do it
but common sense told him it was his best option.
Buffy was making herself some hot chocolate
when the phone rang. It was quarter past two in the morning.
She ran to reach the phone before it woke anyone else.
"Summers residence?"
"Slayer, is that you?"
"Spike, do you know what time it is?"
"Well, according to the little clock on
my phone it's half five, but I don't think that's ever been
set. I know I didn't set it."
"Have you been drinking?"
"In the strictest sense of the question,
yes, but if you're asking whether I'm drunk, then no, not
by a long shot, pet."
"So why are you ringing at this time?"
"Maybe I just wanted to see if you've come
to any decision about the little talk we had this morning."
"And it couldn't wait till morning?"
"No. Actually. It couldn't. So do we have
a verdict?"
Buffy sighed. "Stunts like this don't exactly
tip the balance in your favour, but yeah I'll hear what
you have to say."
"Good. The only problem is I've got to
get out of Sunnydale tonight, and clear some ground before
sun-up. Do you think if you concentrate on it you would
be able to tell if your place is being watched?"
"I can pick up on vamps if they were close
enough, but not really if it was humans or anything else."
"In that case I can't risk coming over
there. If you don't mind I'd like to borrow yer mum's car.
I'll need to paint out the windows, but I promise I'll scrape
'em clean once everything's all sorted."
"What is going on?"
"Buffy, there's just too much to tell you
over the phone. If I tell you what I need, then when you
bring it over we can cover the basics, but for now, for
once, can you just trust me?"
There was a pause of several seconds before
Buffy replied. "Yeah, I suppose so."
"Right then, love. I'm going to need the
car. If you've got any paint I can use for the windows that
would be handy because I don't know anywhere that's open
this time of night. Emulsion would be easier to get off
afterwards but the darker the better. I need to look different
as well so if you've got a couple of sweatshirts and maybe
a jacket preferably with a hood that'll fit and aren't pink,
I'd be grateful."
"So once I sort out this little lot where
am I supposed to take it assuming I'm still not allowed
near your home."
"Don't mention any place names over the
phone just in case, but remember you found me looking for
a weekend place?"
"Hmph! Yeah I remember. I'll meet you there."
"Buffy, if you're followed, love, just
turn back. I'll sort something out. I think it's probably
only me they're after, but I don't think extra casualties'll
bother them too much. Don't do anything silly on my account."
"You seem pretty spooked what are we talking
about?"
"I thought you were going to trust me.
I'll talk to you when you get here. Just don't take any
chances. Ask Niblet for the phone I gave her, that way if
you have to turn back or anything you can let me know."
"You gave Dawn a phone?"
"Well, I promised to look after her, she
had to be able to reach me if she needed to."
"Okay, see you in a bit."
"Fine. If you get there first, just wait
or ring, but I don't know if the phone will work all the
time. Oh and if you run into a big red bint with straggly
hair and a mouth like an orthodontist's worst nightmare
then remember the only way to kill her is drowning, so don't
bust a gut trying to beat her into submission.
Bye, love."
"Bye."
Buffy poured the hot chocolate she'd been
making into a Thermos flask. She grabbed a packet of marshmallows
from the cupboard and put them next to it. She had a couple
of grey sweatshirts and a hooded tracksuit top in a bag
by the counter. She'd looked round the basement for some
paint, but after the flood, there had been a lot of stuff
thrown out and it didn't look as if they had any paint left.
She grabbed a couple of heavy blankets from the closet in
her room instead. He wasn't going to like it, but he'd just
have to live with it.
She went to her sister's room. "Dawnie?"
She shook her gently until she woke up. "Dawnie?"
"Mmm?"
"Dawnie, Spike's been on the phone. He's
in some sort of trouble. I'm going to go meet him and get
him out of town. He said I should borrow the phone he gave
you. Now, I want you to do two things for me. Get yourself
to school on time, and ring work. Tell them I've got a stomach
bug or something. If I'm not back by tomorrow morning ring
and tell them I'm no better. I'll try to be back no later
than tomorrow night, but I'll ring you tonight anyway. Think
you can manage that?"
"Mm. Sure. You are coming back though,
aren't you? Both of you?"
"Yeah. You bet. I'll be back as soon as
we can get him somewhere safe, and I don't know what sort
of trouble he's in but he'll fix it somehow and when he
does, he'll come home. You're his home, Dawn. He'll always
come back to you." She realised as she said it that it was
the truth. He would always come back.
"You are not bloody well coming
with me!"
"You don't have a choice. Unless you want
to sit here and wait for them to find you?"
"Buffy, give me the keys."
"No way, and don't even think about hot-wiring
it or I'll report it stolen."
"You wouldn't."
"If you leave me behind, sure I would.
You need me. For one thing I have ID that matches the registration
documents. I can drive through the day without having to
black out the windows. You can stay out of sight under the
blankets in the back. There's less chance of anyone seeing
you."
"And who's looking after Dawn?"
"She'll be okay until we can get you somewhere
safe."
"What if they realise you're helping me
and try to use her as a bargaining piece? What then? Go.
Home."
"The longer you stall and the louder we
argue the more chance there is of that. No-one was following
me. If we're gone before they know it then they've got no
reason to go near Dawn, and as soon as you're somewhere
safe I'll go back home."
Realising that arguing wasn't getting him
anywhere, he tried pleading. "I just don't want anything
to happen to you or Dawn, and if you leave her she's in
the house alone with Willow. Are you sure that's safe?"
"Okay, I'll cut you a deal, whichever way
we go, by this afternoon you can stick me on a bus back
to Sunnydale, provided by then we've got the paint for the
windows sorted out. I'll be home by tonight."
Spike sighed. "Done."
She tossed him the car keys. "And while
you're driving you can tell me what on earth is going on."
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