Fool For Love

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Drusilla clapped her hands giddily.

"The King of Cups expects a picnic! But this is not his birthday."

Darla looked at Drusilla like she was crazy.

"Good point..." Darla said.

"Yeah, you know what I prefer to being hunted? Getting caught." Spike said to Angelus.

"That's a brilliant strategy really... pure cunning."

"Sod off!" Spike laughed. "Come on. When was the last time you unleashed it? All out fight in a mob, back against the wall, nothing but fists and fangs? Don't you ever get tired of fights you know you're going to win?"

"No. A real kill. A good kill. It takes pure artistry. Without that, we're just animals."

"Poofter!"

Angelus shoved Spike, and the fight was on. Angelus snapped a metal rod in half, lifted Spike up and slammed him down on his back, raising the makeshift stake. Spike stopped it inches from his heart and smiled up at Angelus.

"Now you're gettin' it!" Spike said.

Angelus dropped the rod and backed off.

"You can't keep this up forever. If I can't teach you, maybe someday an angry crowd will. That... or the Slayer." Angelus said.

Spike sat up, suddenly interested.

"What's a Slayer?" he asked.

Buffy listened intently while Spike told his tale as they played pool.

"After that, I was obsessed. I mean, to most vampires, the Slayer was the subject of cold sweat and frightened whispers. But I never hid. Hell, I sought her out. I mean, if you're looking for fun, there's death, there's glory and sod all else, right?" Spike shrugged. "I was young."

"So how'd you kill her?"

Spike moved behind Buffy.

"Funny you should ask." Spike said.

Spike hand whipped out and took her by the neck. She instinctually reacted, bringing the pool cue up as a weapon but Spike held her at bay.

"Lesson the first: a Slayer must always reach for her weapon." Spike said.

Spike's face shifted as the demon in him came forward.

"I've already got mine."

Spike shook his head and his face returned to normal. After a moment, he released Buffy's neck and took the pool cue from her. He walked over to the table and lined up a shot.

"A good thing, too. Become a vampire; you've got nothing to fear. Nothing but one girl. That's you, honey. Back then... it was her."

In China, 1900, in a Buddhist Temple at night Spike and the Slayer were fighting. She was a young, diminutive Chinese girl, adept at martial arts and swordsmanship.

She kicked Spike back and whipped her sword at his head. He ducked, but not quite quick enough. The blade split the skin over his left eyebrow and blood ran down his face. Spike was enjoying himself immensely.

Outside, in the Chinese village fires burned as panicked villagers fled in every direction, their belongings and farm animals in tow. Explosions could be heard not too far away. This was the Boxer Rebellion.

Spike dodged another blow from the Slayer's sword.

"Just like I pictured it. This good for you?" Spike asked.

The Slayer charged him, sword whickering through the air in a deadly blur. Spike dodged every swing and viciously backhanded the girl, breaking her grip on the sword.

The Slayer went hand-to-hand with Spike, landing several kicks and punches to his head, serving only to further enrage him. He beat her back, but began to lose ground again. The Slayer backed Spike up against a support column and pinned him there, her foot to his throat. She raised a stake, poised to strike the killing blow, when an explosion outside blasted part of the temple wall inward, the concussion breaking her hold on Spike.

Spike went on the offensive, knocking the stake from her hand. As the Slayer bent to retrieve it, Spike seized her arm and wrenched it up behind her back. He pulled the hapless girl to him and sunk his fangs deep into her neck.

The Slayer gasped in pain as her life drained away. Spike turned the dying girl toward him. She spoke to him in Chinese.

The translation was, "Tell my mother I'm sorry..."

"I'm sorry, love, I don't speak Chinese." Spike said.

The Slayer died and Spike threw her to the ground like so much refuse. Panting heavily, he licked his lips with pleasure.

"A fella could get used to this." Spike said to himself.

Spike was staring down at the Slayer's corpse as Drusilla glided into the temple.

"Oh, Spike, look at the wonderful mess you've made. That's a Slayer you've done in. Naughty... wicked... Spike." Drusilla said.

Drusilla held out her hand and Spike approached, with lust in his eyes. He grabbed Drusilla up in his arms and looked into her eyes.

"You ever hear them saying the blood of a Slayer is a powerful aphrodisiac?" Spike asked.

Drusilla looked at him, wanton hunger in her eyes.

"Here, now... have a taste."

Spike held his blood-covered finger up and Drusilla seductively sucked on it, moaning with pleasure. Spike grinned and picked her up, pushing her against the wall and kissing her passionately. She eagerly responded, pulling at his clothes as they sunk to the floor in each other's embrace.

Houses burned brightly as the terrified villagers fled the looters. Spike and Drusilla walked arm-in-arm through the violence, smiling and whispering to each other. They met Darla and Angel, the four of them formed an incongruous picture of calm amid the panic and terrified screams around them.

"So where have you two been?" Darla asked.

"May I tell?" Drusilla asked Spike.

"No need to be humble."

"My little Spike just killed himself a Slayer." Drusilla said proudly to Darla.

Angelus looked him up and down, his face expressionless.

"Congratulations. I guess that makes you one of us." Angelus said.

"Don't be so glum, mate! The way you tell it, one Slayer snuffs it, another one rises. I figure there's a new Chosen One getting all chosen as we speak. I tell you what... when and if this new bird does show up, I'll give you first crack at her." Spike said.

Drusilla's attention was suddenly drawn to something behind Angelus.

"I smell fear." Drusilla said.

"Yeah, this whole place reeks of it." Angelus said.

Drusilla sunk into Spike's arms, ecstatic.

"It's intoxicating!" Drusilla said.

Angel took Darla by the arm.

"Let's get out of here. This rebellion's starting to bore me." Angelus said.

Spike and Drusilla revelled in the misery around them, laughing in each other's arms, before following Angel and Darla into the night.

"That was the best night of my life." Spike said to Buffy.

Spike and Buffy were still at the pool table. Buffy was face was neutral, expressionless, at Spike's casual description of the death of a Slayer.

"And I've had some sweet ones." Then off her look. "What are you looking at?"

"You got off on it." Buffy said disgusted.

"Well, yeah. I suppose you're telling me you don't?" He laughed. "How many of my kind reckon you've done?"

"Not enough."

Spike nodded, "And we just keep coming. But you can kill a hundred, a thousand, a thousand thousand and the enemies of Hell besides and all we need is for one of us, just one, sooner or later to have the thing we're all hoping for."

"And that would be what?"

Spike leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"One... good... day."

Buffy pushed him away from her.

Spike laughed and said, "Hey! You asked and I'm tellin'. The problem with you, Summers, is you've gotten so good, you're starting to think you're immortal."

"Not really. I just know I can handle myself."

"Oh? Then how do you explain this?"

Spike reaches out and gently punched Buffy in her wound. Both Buffy and Spike cry out in pain. Buffy doubled over and Spike's chip 'set' his brain on fire.

"So that's it? Lesson over?" Buffy asked, gasping.

"Not even close. Come on."

Spike picked up a pool cue and headed outside.

Michael strode purposefully through the mist-shrouded trees toward the crypt where the vampires were still partying. The Rocker Vampire was regaling his companions with his tale of fighting and besting a Slayer.

"Killed with her own weapon!" he said.

The Rocker Vampire held up Buffy's stake for the others to see.

"They ought to put this in a museum!"

The door banged open and Michael walked confidently in.

"You know what they put in museums? Mostly dead things." Michael said.

The Rocker Vampire leapt up and charged Michael. He easily blocked the demon's blows and seized its arm, giving it a violent twist. The vampire's arm broke with an audible snap and the stake dropped from its hand into Michael's. Without hesitation, Michael slammed it into the vampire's chest. As the dust settled to the floor, Michael took out a sword. Michael gathered lightning with it. Then he slammed it onto the floor in front of the stunned vampires. It had created a ball of glowing Black Lightning on the floor; it began to grow. Michael ran out the crypt door.

Michael dashed into the trees as the crypt exploded from within.

Out side the Bronze Buffy squared off with Spike.

"Give it to me." Buffy said.

Spike lashed out at her and she easily ducked his blows, then wrapped her hand around his throat, pinning him against a chain-link fence. Spike smiled and laughed.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em?"

Buffy released him and stepped back.

"The question isn't 'How'd I win?'. The question is 'Why'd they lose?'."

"What's the difference?"

Spike lunged at her, the pool cue aimed at her throat. Spike stopped it inches from her skin. Buffy never even flinched.

"There's a big difference, love."

Buffy kicked the cue from his hands.

"How'd you kill the second one?"

"Hmm? A bit like this."

Spike sent a series of punches at her, but Buffy easily ducked them all.

"That didn't hurt?"

"I knew I couldn't touch you. If there's no intent to hurt you, then that chip they shoved up my brain never activates. If, on the other hand..."

Spike's face changed and he lunged at her, but he's brought up short by a crippling brain seizure.

"See, now that hurt."

"Yeah? This hurt too?"

Buffy gut-punched him, then pounded him to the ground.

"How'd you kill 'em, Spike?"

Spike jumped up and attacked, but Buffy flipped him over onto the ground again, whipped out a stake and landed on top of him. Spike seized her wrist before she can plunge it into his chest.

"You're not ready to know."

"I'm ready."

"Okay, then. Went like this."

Spike flipped Buffy up and off him.

New York City, 1977, in a subway car a young black woman in dark leather landed hard on the floor of the train and rolls to her feet. Spike, looking very much like Billy Idol, now with his trademark bleached hair, squared off with the Slayer and threw a punch. The car was empty, save for the two combatants.

As Spike fought the Slayer in the past, he also fought Buffy in the present; the battles mirrored each other across time. Spike felt no pain from the chip, indicating the fight with Buffy was more demonstration than anything else.

"The first was all business but the second, she had a touch of your style." Spike said to Buffy.

Spike and the Slayer traded blows. This Slayer did indeed fight much like Buffy. She ran Spike headfirst into the train car's window, smashing it. Spike loosed a cry of delight and attacked again.

"She was cunning, resourceful... oh, did I mention? Hot. I could have danced all night with that one." Spike said to Buffy.

"You think we're dancing?" Buffy asked.

"That's all we've ever done."

Spike broke one of the subway car's handrails and wielded it as a weapon.

"And the thing about the dance is, you never get to stop."

Spike flipped the pool cue up and spun it like the handrail.

"Every day you wake up, it's the same bloody question that haunts you: is today the day I die?" Spike said to Buffy

Spike brought the pool cue down in a vicious arc and Buffy counter-attacked, enraged.

Spike cracked the Slayer across the face with the metal rail, sending her reeling to the floor and pounded her repeatedly with it.

"Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you." Spike said again to Buffy.

Spike brought the rail down for another blow but the Slayer caught it and slammed it back into his face.

"And part of you wants it... not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it." Spike said to Buffy.

Buffy had heard enough. She backhanded Spike across the face.

On the subway, Spike fell to the floor and the Slayer jumped on his chest, straddling him. She pounded him repeatedly in the face as the train car's lights went out. When they came back on, the Slayer was on her back with Spike straddling her, his hands around her throat.

"Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day."

Buffy stared at him, her face a blank mask.

The Slayer struggled beneath Spike.

"That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know:

What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret. Not the punch you didn't throw or the kicks you didn't land. Every Slayer... has a death wish."

Spike gripped the Slayer's head between his hands and twisted violently, snapping her neck and killing her.

"Even you." Spike said to Buffy.

Spike stood up and faced Buffy.

In the subway, he walked to the end of the car and pulled the emergency cord. As the train ground to a halt, he returned to the dead Slayer and pulled off her black leather coat.

"The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world... your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here but you're just putting off the inevitable."

Spike shrugged into the Slayer's coat. It was the coat he was still wearing that night.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna want it. And the second- the second-

that happens..."

Spike clapped his hands together inches from Buffy's face.

"You know I'll be there. I'll slip in... have myself a real good day."

Spike stared intently into Buffy's eyes, then stepped back.

"Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you'll like it as much as she did."

"Get out of my sight. Now." Buffy said coldly.

"Oh... did I scare ya? You're the Slayer. Do something about it. Hit me. Come on. One good swing. You know you want to."

"I mean it."

"So do I. Give it me good, Buffy. Do it!"

The tension was rising between them.

"Spike..."

His passion aroused, Spike leaned in to kiss her. She backed away in horror.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

He grabbed Buffy by the arms; his words came in a breathless pant.

"Come on. I can feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance."

"Say it's true. Say I do want to."

Buffy shoved him to the ground and looked down at him with disgust.

"It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you."

Buffy tossed the wad of cash at him contemptuously.

"You're beneath me."

Buffy turned and walks off into the night, leaving Spike alone in the dark alley.

Spike began to gather up the money, stifling a sob. As Buffy's words rang down through the years, he became the same spurned and awkward young man he once was. Her words hurt him more than her blows ever had. He closed his eyes in anguish, takes a deep breath, and when he looked up again, only murderous hate remained.

Michael, Kaz, Willow, Tara, Anya and Xander walked down the street towards a dark building that had blacked out windows.

"Where's Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Down the Magic Box with Giles, researching how the other Slayers died." Michael told them.

"Poor Buffy, getting injured like that must have really shaken her up. That hasn't happened for a long time." Willow said.

"I know, she feels vulnerable, she knows she can be beaten," Kaz said.

"I'll see her tomorrow, check she's OK. But back to tonight." Michael said.

"So, where are we going?" Xander asked.

"O.T.T." Kaz said.

"What's O.T.T?" Tara asked.

"Over The Top. It's a club. You'll love it, it's better than the Bronze." Michael told them. "The music's way better, it's less depressing, you can also do karaoke. Just a warning this is a club for demons as well as humans, but only friendly demons. There's spells in the place to stop anyone fighting, it's kind of a sanctuary. Also it's a place for gay people and cross-dressers."

"I guess you two fit in well here." Willow said to Michael and Kaz.

"Yeah! The owner is a personal friend of ours too, his name's Lowal." Kaz said.

They all entered the club, loud, decent rock music blared out of the many speakers around the club. The club was on two levels and was very brightly decorated, there were many luminous chairs and sofas for people to sit on and talk to each other. At one end of the room was a large stage with video screens behind it. Along one wall was a bar that was covered with flashing lights and reflective strips, behind the bar was a large mirror. Working behind the bar were several people and demons. Despite the garish colours of everything in the bar, it all worked very well together.

Anya, Xander, Willow and Tara stared around with open mouths, there were people dancing with demons, men dancing with men, women dancing with other woman and the usual men dancing with woman.

"This is the place to come to have a great laugh, but only if you're open minded." Michael shouted above the music.

Someone, who looked fairly human, walked up and put his arms around Michael and Kaz's shoulders. The 'man' wore a short dress that sparkled pink, light blue and a seay green colour. He wore turquoise eye shadow, blue eyeliner and shiny pink lipstick.

"Michael, Kaz, my darlings how are you?" He had camp voice.

"Guys this is Lowal." Kaz said.

"Lowal, meet Anya and Xander, they've been dating a while, and this is Willow and Tara, two gay Wicca's."

"Welcome, my pretties, to O.T.T." Lowal said. "I should tell you now that at this club anything goes, especially backstage, but there is no fighting or violence." Lowal leaned close to Willow and Tara. "Don't be afraid to make out here, no one will mind... Come let me get you some drinks."

Lowal ushered them all toward the bar, making their way through the crowds of people and demons.

"Anya may I just say, how lucky you are to have a hunk like Xander. You make sure you keep a hold of him. He's such a darling."

"Oh don't worry, I will." Anya said as Xander looked a little embarrassed.

"Now, Michael where is that girlfriend of yours?" Lowal asked. "I'm dying to meet the girl who can have you whenever she wants."

"She couldn't come tonight." Michael said.

"Oh, that's such a shame." Lowal said.

"Don't worry I'll bring her next time."

"You do that, darling. Does she know she has some competition?" Lowal asked, making no effort to hide the fact he fancied Michael.

"No, I don't think so." Michael said. "But I do know I have some competition."

They all sat down on bar stools, more or less in the centre of the bar, and Lowal went around the other side of the bar. As he walked away Tara noticed he had a tail, which proved he wasn't human.

"So... who is it?" Lowal asked from the other side of the bar.

"You mean the other person who wants to get their hands in Buffy's pants?"

"Yes, of course."

Michael didn't reply, he just looked across at his sister, who grinned.

"No?" Lowal asked incredulously.

"Yes." Kaz said proudly.

"You can't sleep with your brothers girlfriend." Lowal said.

Willow, Tara, Anya and Xander all stared at Kaz; they hadn't really known that Kaz fancied Buffy.

"Why not?" Kaz asked.

"Will she go for ménage-a-trois?" Lowal asked with a wink. "Now how about some drinks. Six shots of JD?"

"Yes please." Michael said.

Lowal poured out six shots of Jack Daniels and then handed them out.

"Just knock 'em back and bang your glass down on the bar." Michael said.