__Do Not Go Gentle__
By B'cat



Spike watched the Slayer and Watcher gingerly approach the first row of, what were they called - muttune’t? - and frowned.  This was not going at all according to plan.  Not at sodding all.  No cringing or lusting Buffy to delight in, no fighting, and not even anything remotely worth looking at.  Instead he had discovered and then lost (embarrassingly publicly) an entire army of interesting minions in the blink of an eye and succeeded in getting himself totally thrown off his game by the one he had come here to toy with.

Spike will look after you.

What was in that?  More importantly, though, why wasn’t he insulted by it?  He should be offended by the outrageous assumption that he would do a Slayer’s bidding and care for what should be his lunch!  He should be insulted…  He should be…

But here he was, all fanged up and no one to bite, pushed to the sidelines whilst the Slayer went at it as if he weren’t even there.  Except that he was.  Spike dug his fingers into the demon head he was still holding.  This was all buggered up!

As if communicating by telepathy the Slayer and Watcher positioned themselves in front of the muttune’t.  The creatures, for their part, did not move or blink or breathe or give any indication that they perceived in any way the very immediate threat that was sharpening the air above their heads. 

Then their attackers moved.

The Watcher first.   A deceptively easy looking swing took two heads and left two bodies to slump where they had crouched.  The injury released a stink cloud of rancid fumes and Spike grimaced, remembering not to breathe.  Beside him, tangled in the folds of his coat, Dawn gagged.  He felt her squirm around.  The rest of the muttune’t did not move, still staring at him with their large, innocent, liquid-black eyes.  Flocks from the Devil’s fields.  Lambs with sharp little fangs and a taste for the Undead.

Wankers.

Then the Slayer was moving: leaping onto the fallen bodies and slamming into the unresponsive pack.  Together she and her Watcher cleaved a quick path into the swarm.  None of the creatures moved.  None of them so much as took a nip at their heels whilst the wound on his own leg was throbbing like misery.  He scowled.  That would be right.  Bloody do-gooders getting all the breaks.

To his left the strange woman, Annie, was poised like a statue, crossbow raised and cocked.  From here he could feel the vibrations rippling through the air from her hovering trigger finger.  And again he smelled the ugliness emanating from her blood.  His mouth felt sour from the taste and he frowned, pursed his lips.  Strange.  And yet, now that he was close enough to get a good whiff, it was strangely familiar.  He had been here before.  Somewhere, sometime he had sensed all this before.  He stared at the woman, taking in the noble features, the vampire pale skin, the interesting hue of her empathic skills, the vulnerable tremble that made ripples in the air - that suddenly aroused his beast.

“This is incredibly stupid.”  Ethan suddenly spoke, interrupting Spike’s musings.  This man Spike knew he had encountered before.  Or his imprint anyway.  Not too long ago the cemetery air, earth and magickal planes had all borne his impression.  Spike had made note of that.

Since his chipping the vampire’s interest in all things unexpected or unusual had been boosted above his already vast appetite.  His new vulnerability, and his new alliance with the Enemy, had sharpened his sense for danger and he rarely missed any change, no matter how small, in his home territory.  Thus the passage of a half decent Chaos mage had not gone unnoticed.  So why hadn’t he followed it up?  Must have been pissed as a newt.  Maybe full of Hell blood too...

“Quiet Ethan.”  Annie said.

“He’s going to get eaten alive.”  The Chaos mage continued.  “The little bastards are waiting for something and then they are going to kill him and us.  We should make a break for it.  Now.  While we still can.  While he still can.”  He looked briefly at the woman, waiting for a response.  He didn’t get one.  “Times have changed then have they, love?  ‘Once upon’ you would have been the first to step in his path.”

“Ethan-” Flat warning tone.  What was this then?

“Whatever happened between you two?  Ripper never said and you disappeared on us.”

“This is not the time and you have no idea what you are talking about.  It was, and it still is, none of your business.”  Spike cocked his head.  This was far more interesting than watching the other two jungle slash through a bunch of mannequins.  “Just watch your torch light and be quiet.”

When the mage did not reply Spike returned to watching the passage of the Watcher and Slayer.  They were almost at their goal and the trail of their destructive passage was still clear of all but bodies.  The muttune’t did not move.

Not over there anyway.

Bugger.

One of the creatures surrounding the four of them blinked.  Big lazy flutter of the eyelids.  Crap.  Then another blinked.  Yet another arched its back, stretching.  Another.  Another.  Another.

“Shit.”  Spike spoke.  “They’re waking up!”  He shoved Dawn behind him.  “We should never have split up.”

“RIPPER!”  Ethan called, staring around his feet.  “Hurry up would you.  It seems our luck is starting to run out.”

Across the room the Watcher turned to look at them.  Beyond him the Slayer was clearing the last row.

“Giles he’s here!  He’s alive, I can see him breathing!”

“Ok then kids, its time to leave.”  Ethan called out.  One of the creatures near his feet inched forward on all fours.  Ethan backed up.  Beside him the Empath did not move, still playing guard for the Watcher.  “If you can possibly think of anything to do about this now would be a good time to try again.”  Spike looked up to see the chaos mage staring at him.

“Like what?”  Spike asked, stepping back as two muttune’t tried to place tentative hands on his boots.  He kept Dawn pressed to his back with one hand as he moved.  He felt her stumble.  “Don’t fancy getting nipped again mate.”

“I don’t know.”  Ethan snapped.  He jerked his head around, scanning the creatures at his back.  “Do something.  Anything.”

“Alright.”  Spike hurled the head he had been holding straight into the advancing Muttune’t.  They recoiled.  The decapitated head smacked the right hand one in the face and it hissed, shaking itself.  They advanced again.  Spike stepped closer and let a deep rumble roll up from his chest.  The creatures weren’t impressed by that anymore either and padded forward again.  “Didn’t work. Ok, I’ve got one idea left.”

“Yes?”  Ethan asked.

“Running for it.”

“Excellent plan.  RIPPER!”  Ethan screamed across the cleared path.  The path.  Waking Muttune’t were starting to notice their fallen comrades that lay along that trail.  Their fallen comrades were beginning to notice that they had fallen.  Those still standing started to close the gap, stretching out with soft exploring hands for the body parts they could reach.

“What’s going- EEW!”  Dawn had poked her head between Spike’s arm and body.  Just in time to see the intact hell spawn start to feast on the wriggling, struggling, hissing remains of their not-quite-dead brethren.  Her hard little hands grabbed around the vampire’s middle and clung fast.  “Spike.”  Her voice came to his ears in a soft horrified moan.  “I wanna go hooome.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute pet.”  Spike kicked the closest muttune’t in the face as it moved in.  Its friends hissed at him as it fell away.

Across the room, now isolated and penned in, the Slayer had Giles’ sword and was creating more corpses.  The Watcher was only partially in sight, kneeling, obviously dealing with whatever remained of the missing Edward Frost.  Buffy swung again.  Bodies crumpled and bounced into pieces all around her.  Muttune’t reached greedily for the new body parts, blocking the advance of the rest of the pack.  Wait a minute.  Spike looked down and saw that the head and body he had created earlier were the subject of equally intense desire and small clusters of the hell spawn were gathered around them, feasting like hyenas and blocking the advance of those behind.

“Kill them!”  Spike called out.  “Just cut them up, smack them down.  Look!”  He pointed at the busy muttune’t.  Ethan and Anita looked.  “Knock down as many as you can.  It’ll buy us some time.  BUFFY!”  He yelled across the room as Ethan smashed the torch butt into a convenient cranium and the Empath released an arrow to take out another.  The Slayer sliced again before looking up.  “Take out as many as you can - all around you.  Keep the little bastards as busy as you can.”  She paused for a moment and he wondered if she had understood him.  Then she was in action.  So fast and beautiful.  Sword like lightening, like a silver thread, arcing in flawless sweeps.  Spike felt his breath catch in his throat.  What he wouldn’t give for a piece of that...

“SHIT!”  A sharp tug and he was going down.  Jerked off balance by a hand at his heel.  Dawn shrieked his name and he managed to push her away as he hit the ground.

Spike roared as the creatures moved in.  Within a heartbeat he had torn one muttune’t limb from limb and sent another sprawling both eyes destroyed.  It wasn’t enough.  Hands pulled at him.  Tugging his legs with that gentle but overwhelming strength.  Pulling on his coat.  Tearing at his boots.  Spike punched, gouged, flailed and tore with his fangs, gagging on the disgusting flesh.  Muttune’t went flying left and right, body parts up and down.  He was a hurricane of movement and it felt like liquid fire was filling his veins.  Tearing and ripping, punching and kicking.  They fell like paper monkeys, shredded under his vampire strength.  He grinned, a happily vicious fang filled smile, but suddenly a lucky little demon found the wound on his leg and Spike roared again.

“SPIKE!”  Dawn.

“GET BACK!”  Anita’s voice.  An arrow sliced the air near Spike’s head and the lucky one went tumbling backward.

Still, it wasn’t enough.  More demon spawn moved in.  New hands on his arms, his coat, his legs.  Faster now, more confidant and the sheer weight of them started to sap his strength. One of them bit into the toe of his boot.  Fuck.

“SPIKE!  BUFFY HELP!”  Dawn again.  Voice raw.  “GET AWAY FROM HIM!  BUFFY HELP HELP!”  Then more voices.  He heard them above him, behind him.  The rest of the scattered group, calling, screaming.  The air filled with blood and terror.  Muttune’t hissed.  Then they started screaming again.  The deafening shrieks like knives through both of his ears.

Dawn.

Buffy.

Spike wasn’t prepared for the sheer animal terror that the sudden thought of the Summers’ girls filled him with.  Like being injected with ice, the molten fire in his veins suddenly snap froze. Buffy.  Dawn.  Out there in the screaming bloody mess of hungry demon spawn.  Sweet faced little Bit collapsing under snapping jaws and soft hands: tenderly torn limb from limb.  The Slayer, falling to the filthy mindless nobodies that crawled at her feet, unworthy to even stand in her presence.  No.  That couldn’t be.  That just couldn’t be. It wasn’t going to happen.

He wouldn’t let it happen.

His vision flooded red and Spike exploded from the smothering pack bringing forth every drop of strength he had and giving it all to his demon.  No more William.  No more Spike.  The demon roared its fury, filling the cavern to overflowing with the exquisite joy of murder and mayhem - the bliss of being free.

* * * * *

Buffy hacked at the advancing lines of hell spawn, moving as fast as she could to keep them from reaching Giles and Edward behind her.  Bodies and body parts littered the ground at her feet, and true to Spike’s sharp observation, they proved to be a welcome diversion.  Clusters of the disgusting Hell creatures tore apart the remains and slowed the advance of the others.  It wasn’t going to be enough though.  There were too many of the damned things.

“SPIKE!”  Dawn’s sudden shriek slashed across the room and Buffy looked up in time to see Spike dragged down into the murderous pack that surrounded him.  “SPIKE!”  She saw him shove her sister away as he fell and heard his outraged roar as he disappeared from view.  Oh my god.

“GET BACK!”  Anita swivelled as she called out.  Dawn leaped away as the English woman fired a bolt into the swarming pack around the fallen vampire.  Somewhere inside the mass a muttune’t shrieked.  Body parts suddenly flew up from the mass as Spike went to work.  She saw a flash of his vamp ridges as he surged upward.  Watched, heat flooding her veins, as he ripped into the belly of a muttune’t and spilled something that looked like grey spaghetti.

“SPIKE!  BUFFY HELP!”  Dawn suddenly called and Buffy jerked as if stung.  Keep it together Slayer...  “GET AWAY FROM HIM.  BUFFY HELP HELP!”

“DAWN!”  She called and suddenly they were all calling and swearing and the muttune’t started their freaking squealing again.  Then Spike suddenly surged upward again, yellow eyes flashing gold.  His roar lit up the great cavern and reverberated through her bones.  It was wild, bestial, ecstatic.

Sexy...

No, focus, focus.

“I’M COMING DAWN!  GILES!”  She called over her shoulder, lunging to make a meal out of another muttune’t. 

“Alright.”  Suddenly her Watcher was with her.  Somehow he had secured the unconscious Edward over his shoulder, hog-tying the younger man with what looked like his own belt. He swung the torch butt and took out a nearby muttune’t.  “Let’s go.”

Then it all got a little ugly. 

From somewhere deep within their ranks the muttune’t began to surge forward.  Like a tidal wave the ripple of movement swelled and grew.  Faster, more confidently now, they pushed closer, hands pawing, teeth snapping wherever they thought they were going to get a bite.  And with it the hissing and screaming again.  In tune Buffy pushed herself harder, faster.  Bodies fell.  Screaming became shrieking as the Slayer lashed out.  Desperation and terror guided her sword.  Severed arm here, head there, torso, legs, hands, fingers.  Faster.  Harder.  A choking cloud of stink was rising up around them.  The Slay was swelling inside her too, and unbidden it rose to the surface, filling her with its dark desires.  Inviting her to dance.  Demanding it of her with a strength that was new and shocking and for a moment she instinctively resisted it.

Then Dawn screamed again, shrieking for the muttune’t to go away.

Buffy let the power of the Slay rise without struggle.  Her senses sharpened, growing to encompass the room and take in every sight, smell, sound and taste. 

Oh yeah.

Alongside, without a word, her Watcher fell into rhythm with her, matching her move for move.  She felt his presence like a welcome twin, and the heat of him barely an inch away, was like a blazing fire.  A blast furnace.  Her very own inferno to guard her back.

Yes.

This was how it should be - she slit a muttune’t neck to groin - together and in tune.  Hack and slash.  Rip and tear.  Taking on the foul corrupting things that inhabited this filthy underworld.  And killing, killing, killing.

The prey surrounded her like a banquet.  Hers for the sampling.  All of it hers...  Pleasure/pain flared and grew in her belly.   She remembered this feeling, this perfect ecstasy, and raced toward it, tearing through the Prey at her feet.  Her sword flashed.  It lifted and fell like an extension of her arms, her clawed fingers.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

This was perfection. 

Prey fell like autumn leaves.  Cleaved and broken, they lay twisting and hissing at her feet.  Grovelling before her.  She grinned, lips pulled tight across her teeth: predatory and wild.

Behind her her Watcher rammed his makeshift club through a nearby skull and yanked it free to smash another.  His victorious roar made her hair stand up along her arms.  Its ecstasy rolled across her skin, through her guts, and she answered his triumph with a howl of her own, throwing herself into the feast of Prey before her.

They fell away from her bright fury now, seeing their own death in her eyes.  First they stopped advancing.  Then they started retreating and the Slay howled inside her.  Victory. Dominion.  Hers, all hers.  Hers for the taking.

Ecstasy burned a path through her guts, upward and out though her sword and she chased the stinking hoard as it retreated across the cavern.  Her Watcher was never more than a step from her side.

“BUFFY!”

Hack and slash.  She sliced an arm free, took a retreating head and murderous joy boiled through her blood.  Every stroke of the blade was perfection.  Flawless.  She snarled and picked up her pace.  Hunting them now as they ran in terror.  Chasing, tracking, as they ran for the tunnels. No where to hide down there my prey.  Can smell you out.  Can take you-

“RUPERT!”

“BUFFY!”

The dull mortal voices pricked at her heightened senses.  Muted flutters in the symphony that surrounded her.

What was this?

Stab with the sword.  Splitting flesh, spilling guts, taking heads, arms and legs.  Killing.  Killing.  Killing.  Beside her, her Watcher reached out to grab and bash.  The sounds of battle roared and flew around her - a melody of violent murder.  But, through it all, there it was again. A voice calling to her?  A tiny little noise on the far far horizon.  She cut down more Prey.

“BUFFY!”  There it was again.  The tenor was familiar and insistent.  A voice-

Dawn!

And the Slay came crashing down around her, collapsing and retracting like a slap in the face, senses hammered back into dullness, wild strength sapped.  She stumbled.  Her Watcher’s hand instantly grabbed for her arm, supporting her weight, as they came to a rambling, stumbling, panting halt.   Oh damn that was too intense...

“BUFFY!”

She turned, Giles mirroring the movement, and there across the room stood Dawn, Anita and Ethan.  And Spike, in full vamp out.  The Slay flared weakly as her eyes alighted on him.  Hunt.  Track.  Kill the vampire.  Yes.  NO.  She took a deep calming breath and watched as Dawn and then the others flew across the room toward her.

“Ok, anyone have any idea what just happened?”  Ethan panted staggering in behind Dawn as the teen launched herself into Buffy’s arms.

“BUF-” the girl squealed and was promptly ripped away.  By Giles.  Buffy followed the snatching move and was shocked to see her Watcher single handedly holding her sister by the scruff inches above the ground.  Dawn yelped and kicked out.  Giles did not move and Buffy recognised the utterly feral look in his eye.  What the hell?

“GILES!”  Buffy demanded.  He looked at her, eyes hard.  “Giles.  Put her down.”

“Rupert!”  Anita panted, face pale and streaming with sweat.  “Ru.” 

“Spike!”  Dawn yelped, but no one saw Spike until it was too late.  One moment the vamped out Undead was motionless and the next he was on Giles like a dog - snarling.  Dawn went spinning away to the ground and Buffy rushed to her aid.

“DAWN!”  The girl was face down on the ground, not moving.  Not even slowing down, Buffy skidded to her knees and scooped her up into a sitting position. With her free hand she made a rapid check.  Not a scratch, she was okay (well, discounting the post shock freak out that was rapidly building).  Buffy exhaled in a heavy relieved rush.

“FUCK!”  The expletive burst from Ethan’s lips like a bullet and Buffy snapped around to see Spike and Giles locked in a deadly embrace, Edward still limp and partially squashed between them.  The two combatants did not notice him.  Instead they stood snarling face to snarling face, yellow eye pinned on hazel, fists full of each other’s clothing.  Sweat was pouring from her Watcher’s flushed, though strangely pale face.  Spike’s fangs were bared and snapping with tiny rapid contractions of jaw muscles, less than an inch from contact.  Oh shit.  They were motionless, locked down and locked together, but that would not last.  One slip from either and the other would make this very messy (and she knew who would win).

“Come on Ripper.”  Ethan was hovering, making indecisive, aborted movements, obviously trying to find an ‘in’ that was free from Spike’s fangs and Giles’ fists.  “Let the vampire go.  There’s a good chap.”

“Rupert.”  Anita did not have the same foibles and reached out to touch the Watcher’s shoulder, but her hand had no sooner made contact than she recoiled as if burnt.  Not too far from the truth, Buffy thought hurrying back to the crazed pair.  Not deterred for long though, Anita reached a hand out to tentatively curl around Giles’ cheek.  “Rupert!”  Her voice was sharp, commanding, and Giles frowned, but did not release Spike.

“GILES!”  Buffy lunged forward as she spoke.  A strange, intense feeling accompanied her command.  The power of it poured from her lips to her Watcher’s ears and the man jerked as if electrified. Buffy felt her jaw drop.  Did she do that?

Then Giles was blinking and she saw the moment that the Slay finally lost its command.  Oh thank god- OH SHIT!  “SPIKE!”  The Slayer lunged forward again as Giles suddenly relaxed, blinking like he had just awoken, and the enraged vampire pressed home for the kill.  She was not a second too late and took Spike out with a ferocious body slam.  They tumbled away in a tangle of limbs.

“Spike!”  Buffy took the advantage of her surprise attack to pin the vampire to the ground, hands above his head.  He snapped up at her and bucked, snarled.  “SPIKE!  Stop it.  Stop!  Spike, I’m not letting you up until you get a freaking grip!”

“Spike?”  Dawn.  Her sister was inching toward them. 

“Stay back Dawn.”

“It’s ok Buffy.”  Her sister was alarmingly calm and shocked, she turned to watch her approach.  This was new.  “It’s ok.  He won’t hurt me; he was trying to help me.”  She stepped up close and knelt even closer.  Buffy wanted to slap her away but at the same time she knew her sister’s observation was right.  Spike had leaped to her sister’s defence as Giles had to hers.  She stared down at the squirming demon and wondered.  Spike getting noble?  A soulless murdering vampire, a void in a dead man’s skin, capable of real human motivations?  The very thought was so ridiculously abhorrent that she could not bring herself to follow it to its logical conclusion.  No.  No.  Honour was for people: souled creatures.  No.  She pushed more weight onto Spike’s wrists watching as his demon-cast features twisted in an ugly scowl.  Right now he would kill her if he could.  That face said it all.  Since she had been Called she had seen this face, slinking through shadow, bursting free from the earth, and crouched bloody and feral over numerous innocent victims, taunting her.  Hundreds of faces and each one the same.  And each one dust.

Dawn was wrong.  Spike had attacked Giles in defence of Dawn yeah, but what did that prove?  Who knew what was really lurking in that gutter mind that did not involve some twisted machinations for death, destruction and betrayal.   There was over 100 years of history there.  No.  No, there was no way Spike’s motives could be that...  well, pure.  She was sure of that.

“Dawn-”

“It’s ok Buffy.”  She reached out in a mirror of Anita not moments ago.  “Spike.”  She touched his face and he whipped around, yellow eyes flashing.  His teeth clacked shut.  Then he was blinking and Buffy felt him go limp beneath her.   A second later she was looking into wide blue eyes and a handsome human face, and suddenly thoughts of nobility did not seem so incredible.  They stared at one another, mere inches apart.  She read confusion in that face and the shocking vulnerability of it instantly aroused both the Slayer and the girl.   Kiss it or kill it?  Look at him now. Soft blue eyes made smoky in the moment and fang-free mouth that gaped at her just a little, just enough...  Kiss it or kill it?  Did it really matter?  Wasn’t it all the same - just different sides of the same coin?

Kiss it or kill it?

And then her indecision didn’t really matter because that mouth was rising up to meet her halfway.  A fraction closer and they would be -

“Uh, Buffy?”  Dawn spoke and the world slipped back into place with a painful snap.  Oh, oh no.  She sat up with a start, releasing Spike’s wrists.  Spike (no, the vampire) lay underneath her, still and dumb, letting her take the spotlight.  Front and centre for her own private audience.  Oh god, Dawn, Giles.  She couldn’t bear to look up to see them watching her, and knowing.

The blush rose like a geyser.   What had she done?  She tried to stop the flush but failed and the self-disgust burned her cheeks all the hotter.  And Spike?  The bastard just lay there and let her squirm.  Stop blushing, stop blushing, stop blushing.  Then she saw a corner of that mouth curl and the self-recrimination blossomed into raw anger.

Bastard, bastard, hate you, hate you, hate you.  You do this and do this and I fall for it every time because you play at being human, you play at being our friend, our ally and you play at being a guy that maybe I - 

She sprang from his prone body.

Dawn was wrong.  This was just more classic Spike.  Finding ever-new ways to taunt her and slip it in when she wasn’t expecting it.  Just like a predator.  Just like an animal.  Dawn was wrong.  Whatever reason he may have had for jumping to her sister’s defence it was not because he cared.  Caring was a feeling and one he couldn’t have because Demon’s.  Didn’t.  Feel.

Spike watched her jump up from him and rose to his elbows, staring.

“Uh guys-” Dawn suddenly interrupted again, pointing across the room.  They all looked.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”  Spike said, peering around so he could see the muttune’t packed tunnel.  The exit tunnel.  The gleam from a hundred glistening black eyes glittered like stars in the night sky.  Menacing, murderous little stars.

“Just what the bloody hell is going on?”  Ethan.  “What the hell is all this?”

“I have no idea.”  Giles spoke, staring at the tunnel.  Edward was still slung across his shoulder and incredibly, and disturbingly, still unconcious. “But I suggest that we get out of here while we can.”

“We can’t get out.”  Ethan again.  “Unless you want to try round three.”

“We’ll have to take our chances and try another tunnel.”  Giles swept his gaze across them all, skipping lightly over Dawn.  “Let’s go.”

Without a word they all fled across the body strewn cavern, following Giles into the closest tunnel.  Buffy turned to back as she entered, but the muttune’t did not follow.  They stayed in their tunnel, watching, waiting.

* * * * *

By the second bend Ethan had had enough.  He could barely keep himself upright let alone produce a forward moving stagger, and his strength, even for the weakest incantation, was spent.  Annie, immediately ahead of him, was not faring any better and yet still Ripper drove them on.  On and on into the Powers’ knew what.  Perhaps the wildness that had let the Watcher take on a vampire was still singing through his veins, pouring unlimited strength into his limbs.  Ethan coughed and bounced off the wall.  Well, unless the bastard was going to share, this little black duck had had enough for one day.

“RIPPER!”  He called out, coming to a staggering halt against the wall.  “RIPPER STOP!”

“Hey!”  The Slayer suddenly appeared behind him swerving quickly to avoid a collision.

“Ripper, we have to stop.”  Ethan watched their leader’s shadow come to a standstill up ahead, the multiple muffled thumps of several more exhausted shades coming to rest against the walls.  Even the vampire leaned a shoulder to the rock.  In the heartbeat before he spoke again the narrow tunnel filled with a storm of panting and coughing.  “We have to rest for a bit.  Find a hidey-hole.  Somewhere.”  He gestured tiredly at Ripper’s human burden.  “I’m sure our Mr Frost would appreciate it no end.”

More panting.

“Alright.”  Ripper sounded a smidge contrite.  “Keep moving though, we need to keep moving and stick together.”

“Sticking together.”  He nodded, beginning to catch his breath.  “Good plan.  Excellent.  Lead on Mac Duff.”

Giles turned and started again and they all followed: silent and subdued.  Ethan pushed away from the wall and forced his legs into action.  Not long now, he promised them.

“Annie love?”  He reached his old friend before she had made her move.  “How are you standing up to all this?”  He curled a hand around her elbow and steered her away from the wall, and for the second time that night he found himself taking all of her weight.  And again it alarmed him.  “Annie?”

“Let’s go.”  She said, ignoring him and pushing free with an obvious effort.  Without another word she walked away.  He stood watching her for a long second.  Yes, they had all pushed themselves to the limit tonight.  Yes, he knew they were all exhausted.  Yes, he knew they were all walking on the fumes from spent adrenaline and that the three older humans were probably going to be the most gutted, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something more than simple fatigue.  He knew Annie, had known her, for years.  Something wasn’t right.

“Hey!” A Slayer hard poke in the ribs.  He started walking.

As they made their way deeper into the Hellmouth Ethan found himself moving closer and closer to Annie.  Ahead of him Ripper still lead the way, followed closely by Dawn and the vampire.  Behind him, the Slayer watched their backs.  For the moment then, he was protected and so he was left to indulge his anxiety in useless hovering.  Useless, because Annie did not seem to need the only help he felt he had to offer.  She did not stagger or stop once, nor did she even weave as she followed Dawn’s back.  But rather than reassure him this apparent well being only made him more and more apprehensive.  About what, though, he did not know.

“Here.”  Ripper’s voice suddenly came from ahead.  About time.  Dumbly they all followed him into a side tunnel.  “It’s not going to be completely secure, but I think it’s the best we are going to do.”  His audience showed their appreciation by immediately collapsing in an untidy line behind him.  All bar the Slayer that is, she turned back toward the entrance, dropping to a watchful, resting crouch.

Ethan slumped against the wall and watched as Ripper took the opportunity to unburden himself of Mr Frost, propping the boy against the wall and kneeling before him.  Frost remained limp: their own life size Raggedy Andy.  Ethan sighed and ran the tail of his shirt over his face.  He felt like shit.  Was this going to be worth the effort if he found what he was looking for but died in the process?  Beside him Anita had pulled her water bottle free.  The sight of it dried his mouth and he fumbled for his own.  Buffy did the same.  Anita handed her bottle to Dawn, sitting beside her.

“Edward.”  Ripper’s hand was at the younger man’s throat.  He fumbled for a second and then shone his torch into the slack face.  Peeled back an eyelid.  “Frost!”  He slapped a cheek.

“I-is he, he like.....  dead?”  Dawn’s soft voice peetered out on the last word.  She was peering over Spike’s arm, hiding behind it really.  Ethan noted the pinch in Ripper’s face as he looked up at the girl.  Guilt.  Ripper did it so well, and never so well as when he was not at fault.

“No.  Just unconcious.  Give me a hand here would you Annie-”

“Ah, don’t think so old man.”  Ethan interrupted the flow and pressed a hand to Annie’s shoulder.  “What can an empath do here that a I cannot?  I was sent with you for a reason Ripper: chaos magicks.  If Mr Frost is going to be difficult I think I have a greater chance of waking him than Anita.  No offence Ms Snow.”

“None taken.”  She was looking at him with puzzlement, he could feel it.  And perhaps a little relief as well.

Ethan forced himself back to his feet and moved up the line.  He squatted by his old friend and looked at their patient.

“Here.”  Ripper handed him the torch.  “Shine it there.”  Ethan complied and watched with as much interest as his fatigue and his not-caring-very-much would allow as Ripper examined the young man’s head.  Behind him he heard the tiny snickt of a lighter.

“Put that out Spike.”  The Slayer.  Terse and snappy.  “There isn’t enough air in here to start with without your disgusting smoke.”

“Hey, its only the one.”

“Out.”

“Fine.  So, am I going to get any water then?”

“You don’t need it.”

“Says you.”  An indignant tone.

“Says biology Spike.  Hello, vampire!”

“I have a tickle!”  Indignant voice and small dainty cough.  “‘Sides, not as if I’m going to get what I really need is it?  Unless your Mr Frost snuffs it.”  Scuffing in the sand and Ethan felt the vampire by his side.  “Is it looking serious doc?”  Spike sniffed at the boy.

“Spike.”  The Watcher.

“Alright, just let me know though, you know, if he’s going to go south.  No sense good blood going to waste.  A vampire-”

“VAMPIRE!”  The young man in question suddenly exploded into consciousness, pushing up from the wall like it was on fire.  “VAMPIRE!”

“Yes, as I was saying-” Spike snapped.

“Edward, calm down!”  Ripper had his hands on Frost’s shoulders, pushing him back to the wall, but the young man was not listening.   There was a scuffle and suddenly a small wooden cross was thrust in the vampire’s face.  Spike recoiled with a hiss.

“Get back from me vampire.”  Well this was amusing.

“EDWARD!”  Ripper barked.

“Get back!”  The young man spat.

“I am sodding back.  Any more back and I’ll be through the fucking wall!  What the hell is your problem - I just saved you.”

“Exaggerating much.”  The Slayer.

“Yeah, well- imminent scalding makes me nervous.”

“Be gone foul demon-” Edward went on, oblivious to the interruption.  So Frost had found his pluck at last!  Ethan thought, and tried not to laugh.

“Hey!  Who are you calling foul?  Now, just steady on!”

“I will not listen to your lies ugly night walker.”

“Ugly-” Spike choked.   Ethan joined him.

“Mr Frost that is enough!”  Ripper barked.  “You will stand down.  NOW!”  That worked.

“M-Mr Giles?”  He switched his glassy stare from Spike to Ripper.  “I-its a vampire!”

“Yes.  I am aware of that.”  Ripper ran his hands down Frost’s arms and collected the cross.  “Now, just-just calm down.  He is a vampire yes, but he will not harm you.  He is incapable of harming human beings.”

“Yeah, he’s been fixed.”  The Slayer again.  Ooh she was suddenly spoiling for a fight.

“Hey!”  Spike glared at her, bristling.  Edward managed to make his stupid and bamboozled face once again.  He blinked at Buffy.

“You know: spayed.”  The Slayer supplied.

“You know, it’s not too late to-” Spike began.

“And that is enough from the both of you!  Buffy.   Spike.”  Ripper frowned at them both.

“S-s-spike?”  Edward switched from stupid and bamboozled to stupid and alarmed.  He shuffled back into the wall.

“You’ve heard of me?”  Spike asked, looking genuinely and suddenly pleased.  There was a nasty delight in his voice now too, and it lit his eyes with a hard, intent glow.  He flashed a glance at the Slayer.

“As one hears of Ebola!”  Edward suddenly spat, and a slow, pleased smile curled the vampire’s lips.  “O-or the Black Death!”

“Or even hives.”

“Yes, thank you Buffy.”  Ripper butted in.  “I can see that this conversation is going to be yet another example the necessary use of valuable oxygen.

“Now, if you can bring yourselves to stop I suggest that we all try to get some rest.  We have a potentially long and dangerous trek ahead of us.  We need all the strength we can muster.  Buffy, Spike, since you seem to have energy to spare you can take the first watch.”

* * *