Part 9: Allied

Joyce yawned, she couldn’t help it. Between the drugs and the exhaustion her body wasn’t taking no for an answer anymore. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Spike looked nonplussed. It had probably been a long time since a human had dozed off on him.

“Yeah. Better let you get some rest.” He stood up. “Just need you to do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Don’t mention me to the Slayer or the White Hats.”

No longer sleepy, she gave him a hard look. “Why?”

“Promise I’m not planning to go after your girl.”

“Why would I believe you?” Spike put on a wounded expression.

“Did that other me ever break a promise to you?”

She didn’t have to think about it. “No.”

“Well then. Already helped you out last night didn’t I? With the Master’s little darlings. Kept them from burning the bloody house down around your ears.”

“Oh! You’re why they never came back.”

“Yeah. We had a frank exchange of views and then I took them for a little swim.”

“You killed them?”

“Naw. Not yet. So you see, you can trust me. We’re on the same side – I want the Master dust as much as your lot does.”

She looked up into his apparently sincere face and tried to decide. True, her Spike had never lied to her, or let her down – at least that she knew about. He’d kept his deal with Buffy to defeat Angelus. On the other hand he’d betrayed Buffy and her friends to Adam. In the first throes of his infatuation he’d chained Buffy up and threatened her life. He’d sat and watched Passions with her, and never said a harsh word to Dawn. She just didn’t know.

“Alright. I won’t say anything, for now.”

“Good. I’m off then. Sweet dreams.”

“You didn’t complete the mission,” the Master said.

“I’m soddy,” Willow whispered miserably. Her nose hadn’t recovered from the trauma and was still swollen and spread over the middle of her face. Beside her Xander stood cradling his arm, his skull fractures were mostly healed but the back of his head was still matted and flat. Both of them were still soaking wet.

“We were ambushed,” Xander added.

“Obviously not by the Slayer, or you’d be dust.”

“A vampire, lord. Or a demon. Whatever it was took us out too easily to be human.”

“Really?” The Master’s voice was laced with skepticism. “Or perhaps you’ve grown lazy, careless, spoilt by my indulgence.” He moved too fast to be seen. He lifted the two by their throats. His grotesque face was twisted with rage. “Because of your failure I will have to put off the unveiling of my glorious invention for at least one night! I should tear off your heads and piss in your dust!” Neither vampire said anything, they knew begging wouldn’t help.

He let them drop. “Get out of my sight. Help the minions pack up. We’re leaving.”

Back in the library. Giles and Buffy argued. Little Miss Likes-to-fight had made it really, really clear on the drive back from the hospital that she didn’t want to talk about Joyce. So they’ve moved on to why she’d been called here.

“So where is this big, bad, vamp who’s got this town running scared. Where’s his lair?”

Larry sat down next to Cordelia and held her hand. He was the only one who’d noticed how upset she was. She let herself lean into the comfort of his massive side. This Larry seemed to be a lot nicer than the jock she remembered. She wondered if he’d come out yet or if having the town taken over by vampires had kept him in the closet.

“The Master’s stronghold is the Bronze – a club on the edge of town. He took it over the night of the Harvest and his ascension.”

Buffy’s mouth fell open and then twisted into a sneer. “You know where he lives? And nobody's even tried to take him out?”

“People have tried...,” Giles said, deadpan.

“Well, I’ll do better than try. Directions?”

“You can't just walk in and –“

“That’s why I’m here, right? To do the one thing I'm good at. The kill.”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t go alone.”

“I don’t play well with others.”

“There’s a surprise,” Cordelia muttered. Larry squeezed her hand a little too hard.

“Nonetheless. Will you at least wait until sun-up?”

“Why? Unless we’re going to burn the building down – that’s a plan actually…” She scowled when Giles shook his head. “Fine. So it’ll be dark inside no matter what time it is. I think you people have wasted enough time being scared of the big bad vampire. Now, who’s going to tell me the address?”

Larry and Nancy looked doubtfully at Giles. “We’re all coming with you.”

“Fine. Just don’t get in my way.”

“Uh, guys?” Cordelia spoke up. “I’d rather skip the fighty-fight. Does anyone mind if I just go back home?”

“Yeah, good plan Miss Vogue, wouldn’t want you to muss your nails.” Was it the scar or her really bad attitude that made her look like she was sneering all the time? Fuck it.

“Second thought, I’m in.” Cordelia snapped.

“Great. Let’s go then.”

Posted 05 August 2003

Part 9, continued

~*~

The Bronze looked the same from the outside, well, mostly. The light over the sign was on, but the place was deserted. Buffy, making no attempt to hide her unhappiness with the situation, snarled out orders. Cordelia didn’t have to be told to stay in back, not that that stopped uberbitch. Larry gave her a sympathetic look as he followed orders and moved up beside Oz just behind.

Buffy kicked the door open and charged in, the others right behind her, adrenaline pumped, ready for anything…

It’s very quiet. Cordelia has personally been to more lively crypts. The only sounds are their own heartbeats and nervous breath. There are bodies in cages, and the unmistakable reek of blood and death, the vampires had definitely been here, but…

“They’re gone,” Buffy’s voice dripped disgust.

Giles flicked a sharp look at her. “Yes, it looks as though they knew the Slayer was coming.”

“Well, I didn’t send them my itinerary.”

“No. We should search this place for survivors – and any clues to where the Master has gone.” Buffy gave him a disbelieving look, but didn’t argue. She disappeared into the shadows and Nancy and Giles went after her. Cordelia sighed and joined Larry and Oz in searching the upper floors.

There were no survivors. There was a lot of blood and dead bodies. Cordelia kept close, hating it more and more, wishing she’d just gone the hell home instead of letting her natural bitchiness get her into this mess.

She remembered being at the Bronze the night ugly vamp had jumped up on stage killed that girl and told them all they were going to die. In the real world she’d shoved the memories to the back of her head and left them there. Because this was Sunnydale, the original one-horse, one-nightclub town; it wasn’t like there was anywhere else. Seeing it now, like this brought back the memory of Jesse’s ice-cold hands on her, his hateful hungry words. She wondered what had happened to Jesse here. Was he somewhere on that memorial wall outside the cafeteria? Had he gotten out of Sunnydale? Or was he out there in the dark, like Xander and Willow?

Maybe he was here, watching her from the shadows, waiting his chance to drag her away…

She clutched her stake, and kept close.

~*~

She’d never have left Cleveland if she’d known she was going to stuck with a bunch of wannabe Guardian Angels. Buffy clattered down the metal staircase that led to what looked like the vamp’s main crib. Down here the air reeked of them. There were more bodies. She left the triage to them as she stalked through the dark rooms, searching for something, anything that would lead her to her target. She doesn’t have time to fool around, she has to find this Master, kill him, and get away from this crazy town.

She turned a corner and there was a cell and inside the cell: hey lookie there, a survivor. He huddled in a corner trembling, with his head on his knees. Didn’t look like anybody the Master would be sharing his evil plot with even if he were up for answering questions, but you never knew.

“Hey, Watcher! Got one for you!”

His whole body jerked at the sound of her voice. As he lifted his head she was caught by his eyes. He stared at her like he knew her. She didn’t know him, and didn’t want to. Just another damned stupid civilian. She turned to leave, figuring the others could take care of him.

She heard chains dragging. Then a raspy, desperate voice. “Buffy? Buffy Summers?” She turned around and saw him hanging on the bars, desperate. “I - it's you. I mean, you don't remember - how could you? But-“

She hated this damned town, hated all these strangers using her name like they had a right to. “How did you know my name?”

“I waited. I waited here for you. But you never... I was supposed to help you.”

Buffy eyed his cage, his wounds. “You were gonna help me.”

“The Master rose. He let me live - To punish me. I kept hoping – maybe you'd come. My destiny.”

Buffy snorted. “Your destiny?”

“I'm... sorry. I just meant-“

“Listen I don't have time for stories. Where's the Master?”

”They're at his factory. It starts tonight.”

“Factory?”

“I - I can take you there.”

Buffy considered him. She kinda suspected he was lying, but in his condition she figured it wasn’t like he could give her any trouble. She sighed and kicked the cell door open. She waited for him to come out but he'd already gone as far as his chains would let him. Great. She grabbed his wrist to break off the shackle and heard a hiss and a familiar stink as her cross made contact with his arm. She jumped back.

“You've got to be kidding.” Disgusted with herself mostly she turned to go.

Loser vamp called after her. ”Wait! I won't hurt you!”

“No, you'll leave that to your Master.” She turned back again, maybe she should stake him, just to be sure. He was staring at her with that laser beam gaze again. Before he got himself killed and beat to shit he must have been quite a player.

“You don't believe I want to help you,” he said in an even voice. He opened his shirt. “Believe I want him dead.”

Christ, he’s a mess. Whoever’s been torturing him has been at it for a long time judging from the half healed wounds overlapping old scar tissue. He was about as thin as any vamp she’d ever seen as well. She looked back at his face, and considered her options.

~*~

Joyce woke up. It was quiet and almost dark. The air had that dead feeling of very late or very early.

Her whole body went tense as the door opened, and went slack again when she saw the pink scrubs. The night nurse, a pleasantly chubby black woman about Joyce’s age, smiled. “Mrs. Summers? Sorry, I just need to take your vitals and check on the IV.” Joyce nodded sleepily. She was familiar with the routine from her stays in the hospital over the past few months.

The nurse moved closer. Her cold hand took hold of Joyce’s wrist. Joyce’s eyes snapped open. She tried to scream but another icy hand clamped over her mouth, the nurse’s distorted features glared triumphantly down at her.

“Stupid…” The vampire stopped talking when Spike locked his arm around her throat and held a stake to her chest.

“So, pet, tell me why the Master is so determined to see our Joyce here dead?” His tone was lightly conversational but the stake never wavered. She only hesitated for a moment before giving in.

“She was talking about calling the Slayer.”

“Guess it would be bad if the Slayer actually showed up.”

“For all of us,” she hissed.

“Tell you a secret luv,” Spike whispered into her ear. “Too late, she’s here.” He drove the stake in with a flick of his wrist. The filtered hospital air was suddenly thick with dust, and she wondered what the cleaners would think tomorrow when they saw the mess… Joyce giggled. Spike stared.

“Something funny?”

“No. Yes. I was just thinking that vampire dust can’t be hygienic.” She giggled again, she felt a little giddy. Let’s see, that’s three, or is it four people who have tried to kill me since yesterday afternoon. Not including Spike.

“You’re not going crazy on me are you?” Spike sounded genuinely worried.

“No, I’m not going crazy. Just… my life keeps getting weirder. Thank you. For saving me. I thought you’d left.” Spike shrugged and continued to brush himself down, concerned with making sure that none of the dust had marred the leather.

“Yeah, well I was on my way down to the basement, thought I’d pick up some supplies long as I was here an all and I noticed the Nurse Cratchit lurking near the stairwell. I don’t’ believe in coincidences, so I followed her.” He gave her a dazzling grin. “So, you trust me now?”

Posted 07 August 2003