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Sleeper

Prologue

Xander is awakened at 4:30 in the morning by a pounding on his apartment door. He stumbles out of his bedroom. “Sweet mamalooshin. Who is it?”

“It’s me,” calls Buffy through the door.

Xander unbolts and opens his door. “Buffy?”

Buffy barges into the apartment. “Where’s Spike?”

“Spike?”

“Spike, Xander. Is he here?” Buffy goes and looks through the open door into Spike’s room.

“N-n-no, he’s out,” says Xander. “At least he was when I got home.”

“Any idea where he went?” asks Buffy.

“I don’t know,” says Xander. “Creature of the night, Buff. He’s probably out creaturing. Why, what happened? Is he in trouble?”

Buffy goes to Xander’s windows, and looks out through the blinds into the night. “I hope not.”

Spike hums Early One Morning¹ to himself as he digs a hole in the dirt floor of a basement. He finishes digging the shallow grave, and looks at the body of the girl he killed. He picks the body up by the lapels of her coat, and looks at her for a moment. He dumps her body into the hole.

Spike resumes humming as he shovels dirt back into the grave.

Act I

London, England

Robson enters his apartment with his briefcase and an ancient book he’s reading in his hand. He glances up and freezes when he sees an overturned table and a broken vase, the flowers that had been in it spilled across the floor.

“Nora?” puts the book down on a table and walks through into his living room. “Nora!” He sees the body of a fifteen year old girl lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There are stab wounds in her back. He bends down by her and feels at her neck for a pulse.

Robson senses movement behind him, and spins around just in time to use his briefcase to block the curved knife in the hand of someone dressed in black robes. The robed man kicks out at Robson, but he ducks under it, and batters him away with the briefcase.

Robson dashes for one of the swords held in a bracket on the wall. He doesn’t see the second robed figure step through the door behind him. He stabs Robson in the back.

Robson collapses beside Nora’s body on the floor.

Sunnydale

Willow runs through the front door of the house, and starts up the stairs. “Buffy?”

“She’s not here,” says Dawn from the living room.

Willow stops and looks around. “Dawn?” She sees Dawn sitting in the dark on the floor by the sofa, clutching a cushion in her arms, and surrounded by wreckage. “Oh, my god. What are you— Dawn, what happened here?” She runs to Dawn and kneels beside her. She notices the cut on Dawn’s cheek. “What— you’re cut.”

“I’m all right,” says Dawn.

Willow pulls Dawn’s head around so she can get a better look at the cut. “Let me see, make sure.”

“I saw Mom.” says Dawn

Willow sits back. “What?”

“She was here, Willow. I saw her. She was here, a-a-and she spoke to me.”

Willow rests her hand on Dawn’s shoulder. “Oh, sweetie.”

Dawn can tell that Willow doesn’t believe her. “No! She was— she was right here, and—and then she wasn’t. She—”

“It wasn’t her.”

“What?” asks Dawn.

“Well, at least, I don’t think,” says Willow. “I—I saw something, too. And it looked like…someone else. But it wasn’t.”

“I don’t understand,” says Dawn.

“It’s the Big Bad, Dawn, the one we knew was coming.”

“But that’s what she said!” says Dawn. “Mom—she said that things were coming, that things were on their way and that…” Dawn looks away from Willow. “…she loved us. So, it had to be her, right? I mean, her warning was true!”

“I don’t know,” says Willow. “I just don’t think we can trust anything right now.”

“So maybe the evil thing messing with you was here, too,” says Dawn. “Only, maybe it was the thing trying to keep Mom away, ’cause she was trying to protect me… Maybe.” Dawn doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

Xander pours himself a cup of coffee. “Why would a vampire lie about who sired him? What’s that? Some kind of status symbol for the undead? My sire can beat up your sire?”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe him,” says Buffy.

“You just don’t want to,” says Xander. Buffy looks at him, and then looks away without saying anything. Xander’s right.

“Okay, let’s look at this objectively, figure it out in a cold, impersonal, C.S.I.-like manner,” says Xander, “’cause we’re a couple of carpet fibers away from a case.”

Buffy shakes her head. “Spike can’t be the one doing this. He couldn’t if he wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, pain chip, remember? He can’t hurt anyone.”

“It didn’t stop him from hurting you.” Xander notices the look Buffy gives him. He raises his hands. “Hey, objective, here. Maybe the chip’s not working anymore.”

“No, it’s working,” says Buffy. “I’ve seen it.”

“Is it?” asks Xander. “Or is that what Spike wants you to think?”

“You think it’s an act?”

“I don’t really know. And neither do you.”

Buffy shakes her head. “No. Mm-mmm. There’s something. I can feel it. He’s different. He’s changed. And if it is an act, then the Oscar goes to…”

They hear the door opening, and turn toward it. Spike comes in. He’s surprised to see Buffy’s there. “Well, this can’t be good: you here at this hour. Any trouble?”

“No. No trouble,” says Buffy. “I— I was just— w-w-we were just…”

“Right. None of my business. No worries.” Spike closes the door and starts toward his room.

Buffy starts to follow him. “Spike, I—”

Spike stops, and turns back toward her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

Buffy finds herself at a loss for words. “How was your night?”

“Ah, it was all right.” Spike shrugs. “And yours? Did you, uh, bag any baddies?”

“One. Vampire. Uh…someone I used to know, actually, a little. Holden. Holden Webster.” Buffy watches Spike closely to see how he reacts to the name.

Spike doesn’t react much at all. “You knew him, huh? That must’ve been a picnic. Well. I’m going to turn in before I drop.” He turns back toward his room. “Night.” He goes into his room, and closes the door.

“You see that?” asks Xander quietly. “You see how he reacted when you mentioned Webs? Cool as cool whip. What’s up with that?”

“The sun’s coming up.” says Buffy. “I need to get home and check on Dawn. We need to keep an eye on Spike.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” says Xander. “When you say ‘we,’ you mean ‘me,’ and me’s got to go to work. I got a big client meeting in a couple of hours.”

“Xander, this is serious! We cannot let him leave this house until we know if he is killing again. We need to find someone that can watch him.”

“Uh-uh! Forget it, Harris!” says Anya.

“Come on, Anya. You said you’d do it on the phone.” Xander moves around his apartment, adjusting the blinds to let in the maximum amount of sunlight. He’s all dressed up in his best suit.

Anya moves closer to Xander so she doesn’t have to talk too loudly. “Yeah, but that was before you told me Spike’s killing again, and now you want to leave me here alone with him?”

“You didn’t mind being alone with him before.” mutters Xander.

“What was that?” asks Anya.

“Nothing,” says Xander. “Look. We don’t actually know that he’s killed anyone. You know, lately. It might all just be a mistake.”

“Yeah, but you don’t think so,” says Anya. “Okay. Have you searched his room? For clues? Trophies from victims? Killers like to keep trophies sometimes. Scalps. Necklaces made from human teeth.”

“You know, it didn’t occur to me to look, but thanks for the tip,” says Xander. “Okay, so you’ll be safe in here. There’s plenty of sunlight for you to hide in.”

“What? That’s it? Y-you’re not, at least, going to, like, leave me a-a crossbow or a flamethrower? Something to protect myself?”

Xander picks up his hard hat, and a roll of blueprints. “We don’t want him to know we suspect anything. Besides, if he tries to leave, I don’t want you confronting him. Call Buffy and let her know that he’s on the move. You’re going to be fine.” He picks up his attache case and starts toward the door.

“Better be,” says Anya. “’Cause if I get vamped, I’m going to bite your ass!”

Xander opens the door. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What was that?” asks Anya.

Xander just smiles, and closes the door behind him on the way out.

Anya is left standing alone in the apartment. She looks at the door to Spike’s room.

Willow quietly closes the door to Dawn’s bedroom. She hears the front door closing.

Buffy comes running up the stairs. “Dawn? Dawn—”

“Buffy, it’s okay,” says Willow. “She’s okay, not hurt. She’s just exhausted, finally fell off to sleep.”

“What the hell happened?” asks Buffy. “Downstairs looks like—”

“Hell happened?” asks Willow. “Yeah. This big evil that’s been promising to devour us? Well, I think it started chomping.”

“Oh, god. And it started with Dawn?”

“Both of us,” says Willow. “Buffy, this thing knows us. I-it made us think that we were talking to people we knew. Mine said it came with a message from Tara. But Dawn actually saw…” Willow hesitates for a moment. “…your mother.” She pauses to let Buffy digest that bit of news.

“This thing, it had me for a while,” says Willow. “I—I mean before it started letting loose with the pulse-pounding terror. But before that, the lies were— very convincing. It just seems real.”

“Lies?” asks Buffy. She starts to think about what Holden told her.

“Maybe—maybe to confuse us?” asks Willow. “To mess us up? Or-or maybe just to be cruel?”

“A vampire I killed last night told me Spike sired him…” says Buffy. “…two nights ago.”

“W-well, that’s impossible, right?” asks Willow. “So maybe it was another one, a-a-a fake-out. You got one, too. It wasn’t a real vamp.”

“Dusted real enough,” says Buffy.

“Buffy. Do you think Spike is—”

“I can’t,” says Buffy. “I hope not. But if I’m wrong and he is… Then I have to see it for myself. I have to be there to stop it.”

Act II

Anya sits reading a magazine in the last bit if remaining sunlight in Xander’s apartment, with a stake on the table in front of her. She looks at the door to Spike’s room and stands up. She stands looking at the door for a long time.

Anya quietly opens the door to Spike’s room, and looks in. Spike is lying naked on his bed, half covered by a sheet, and as motionless as a corpse. She quietly enters the room, with her stake in hand, and closes the door behind her.

Anya goes to the chest of drawers beside Spike’s bed. She carefully opens the top drawer and rummages through it. She doesn’t find anything of interest. She quickly searches the rest of the drawers.

Anya picks up Spike’s pants off the foot of the bed, and checks their pockets. She doesn’t find anything and puts them back on the bed. She picks up his shirt off the floor and checks it too. She starts to check his jacket.

Spike rolls toward her. Anya freezes, but Spike doesn’t move again. He’s still asleep. She starts to search the pockets of his jacket.

Spike’s hand lashes out and catches Anya’s wrist. She gasps.

Spike opens one eye to see what he’s caught. He’s a little surprised. “Anya? Do be specific and tell a fellow just exactly what you’re doing here.”

Anya struggles to come up with an explanation. “Well…Spike…I’m…here, obviously, for…uh, um…” She finally gets an idea. “Sex.”

Spike is startled into letting go of Anya’s wrist. He sits up, and gathers up the sheet around himself. “Uh, beg pardon?”

“You and me,” says Anya. “Here and now. Let’s go! Let’s…get it on, you big, bad boy.” She doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Wait, wait. Anya, just a minute. This is not exact—” Spike notices what she has in her hand. “Is that a stake?”

“Yes,” says Anya. “Kinky!” She puts the stake down on the bed.

“Ah, well, yeah, but what do you—”

Anya puts a finger over Spike’s mouth. “Shh! No questions. No talking.” She runs her finger down along his bare chest. “I can’t help it. I can’t stop thinking about you and us in our brief, but unforgettable time together. I mean, it’s— Why else would I be here?” Anya starts to slowly crawl up onto the bed with him. Spike tries to back away, but he’s got nowhere ot go. “I mean, it’s not like I’m snooping around for proof that you’re some sort of whacked-out serial killer.” She laughs. “I don’t know why I said that. Forget I said that. It’s craziness talking. It’s just nerves. Nerves. Nerves and— and horniness. Oh, just shut up, William, and take me! Take me now!” She straddles Spike, and starts to nuzzle at his neck.

Neither Spike nor Anya moves for several seconds. Spike takes hold of her shoulders, and pushes her gently away. He looks away from her for a moment, and Anya looks away too and sighs with relief.

Spike looks back. “Anya.”

Anya pulls her attention back to him. “Hmm?”

“It’s not that I’m not tempted,” says Spike. “Obviously, if things were different, you’re a right catch.”

“I got it. No problem. I understand.” Anya is quite relieved, until she becomes offended. “You think I’m fat!”

“What?”

“Well, it’s either that or the haircut.”

“R-ridiculous!” says Spike. “The do’s quite fetching.”

“Oh, right!” says Anya. “Now you like the haircut!”

“Love it,” says Spike.

“Sure, as my friend!” says Anya. “You know, you were a lot more fun when you didn’t have a soul!”

“Oh, come on, now!” says Spike. “I’ve just explained to you—”

“All I’m saying is soulless Spike would have had me upside down and halfway to Happy Land by now!”

“I need my pants,” says Spike.

Anya reaches back behind her and grabs Spike’s pants. She hands them to him.

The last of the day’s sunlight has faded away. Anya is sitting in a chair reading her magazine with her back to Spike’s room when he comes out, buttoning up his shirt. She doesn’t look around.

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, love,” says Spike

Anya continues to not look his way. “Who’s hurt? I’m fine.”

“Right. Look, uh, I’ve got things to do,” says Spike.

“Don’t stick around on my account.”

Spike leaves the apartment. Anya waits a couple of seconds before she picks up the phone and dials a number. “It’s me. He’s leaving.”

Spike wanders along a crowded street. A man playing a harmonica on the corner switches to Early One Morning as Spike walks past him.

Spike starts to hum along, and he stops wandering. His stride becomes more purposeful, and he starts paying attention to the people around him. He’s looking for someone.

Buffy passes the harmonica player. He’s switched back to his original tune. She’s trying to keep an eye on Spike, but the street is unusually crowded tonight. She keeps losing sight of him.

Buffy loses Spike for several seconds, and when she spots him again, he’s chatting up a girl standing in line to get into a club. He whispers something into her ear and she laughs.

Spike and the girl start to walk away down the street, threading through the crowd. Buffy tries to follow, but they are heading into an even more crowded area of the street.

Spike walks down the street with his arm draped over the girl’s shoulder. They turn off onto another street.

“So, um…what kind of name is Spike, huh?” asks the girl. Spike doesn’t say anything. He just leads her toward an alley entrance. “What? Are you going to make me guess?” She laughs. “All right. I’ll guess…”

Buffy has completely lost Spike. She moves quickly through the crowd, trying to find him. She goes right past the street he turned off into.

Spike has the girl up against the wall in the alley. “You’re a little bit bad. Huh?” she asks. She kisses him. “Am I right? You a bad boy? ’Cause I don’t mind. You know, I was getting pretty bored waiting over there in that line. I hate…” She kisses Spike’s neck. “…waiting. Know what I mean?”

Spike kisses the girl on her neck. He looks up and sees Buffy looking at him. He pulls away from the girl a bit.

“You know you want it.” Buffy walks right up beside Spike and the girl. “You know I want you to.”

The girl is surprised by Spike’s sudden inattention. She doesn’t see, or hear Buffy, even though she’s standing right there beside her. “Um… Is everything—” She sees Spike’s face transform, and she screams. She tries to pull away.

Spike bites into her neck.

Buffy smiles. “There’s my guy.”

Act III

Spike finishes feeding off the girl, and drops her body to the ground. Her blood still dripping from his lips.

Buffy is still smiling at him. “Now, doesn’t that feel better?”

Spike looks confused, and hunches up his shoulders. He shudders, and runs out into the street.

Buffy is still smiling. She transforms, shifting into another Spike. “How could you use a poor maiden so?” he asks.

Buffy dumps Spike out of his bed. “Did you kill her?”

Spike climbs to his feet. This time he was sleeping with his pants on. “What?”

“The girl last night!” says Buffy.

“What girl?” Spike turns on the light on the table by his bed. “What are you talking about?”

“I caught the first act,” says Buffy. “I missed the curtain call. Did you kill her? Did you turn her? Is she one of your kind now?”

“Did you— Are you following me?”

“Answer the question!” says Buffy. “Where is she?”

Spike stands up. “Who knows? I talked to her is all.”

“Really? Looked like more than talking to me.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t off her.” Spike turns away and grabs a black T-shirt. “God. Where are you getting this? You know I can’t.”

“Right,” says Buffy. “The chip.”

Spike turns back to Buffy. “No! Not the chip! Not the chip, damn it! You honestly think I’d go to the end of the underworld and back to get my soul and then… Buffy, I can barely live with what I did. It haunts me. All of it. If you think that I would add to the body count now, you are crazy.” He starts to pull the shirt on.

“So, what? You just troll the promenade looking for drunk coeds ’cause you’re hungry for conversation?” asks Buffy.

“Oh, is that what this is?” Spike suddenly thinks he understands. “Right.”

“What?” asks Buffy.

“You’re jealous!”

“Don’t play games,” says Buffy. “Not now.”

Spike finishes getting his shirt on. “You saw me chatting up another bird, givin’ the eye to somebody else! Touched a nerve, didn’t it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” says Buffy.

“It burns, huh? But you can’t admit it, so you trump up some charge about me being back on the juice.”

“This vampire I killed told me—”

“Told you what? That I go out?” asks Spike. “Yeah. I talk to people. Women. I talk to them ’cause I can’t talk to you.”

“Oh, Spike, save it.”

“As daft a notion as soulful Spike the killer is, it is nothing compared to the idea that another girl could mean anything to me,” says Spike. “This chip…they did to me. I couldn’t help it. The soul I got on my own…for you.”

Buffy softens. “I know. But—”

“So, yeah, I go and pass the time…with someone,” says Spike. “But that’s all it is is time. ’Cause, god help me, Buffy, it’s still all about you.”

“Spike, this vampire told me you sired him,” says Buffy.

“That doesn’t mean—”

“He said you killed him, dumped him in a parking lot somewhere!”

“And you believed him?” asks Spike. “Vampires, not—”

“I did follow you last night,” says Buffy. “And you know what? You didn’t look lonely, or casual to me. You looked like you were on the prowl!”

“You can’t know that.”

“So, then, tell me. Tell me what happened,” says Buffy. “You talked to her. Then what?”

“We talked. That’s all I remember.”

“All you remember?”

“I don’t know.” Spike starts to pace around his room. “I go out. I talk to people, or I don’t. It’s boring. It all bleeds together.”

“Well, if you seem to forget that much, then—”

“Not that,” says Spike. “The taste of human blood? That I’d remember.”

“You were camped out on the Hellmouth talking to invisible people,” says Buffy. “Recently. How can you be sure of—”

“No!” says Spike. “You are wrong! You’ve got an accusation from a pile of dust and not a shred of proof.”

“So, I’ll get some.” Buffy looks at Spike for a moment, before she turns and leaves.

“Okay, guys, find me some evidence that he did this,” says Buffy. She is pacing around the research table in the back of her living room. Most of the mess from the other night has been cleaned up, but most of the books that had been blown from the shelves are still stacked up on the floor. Dawn is working at getting them sorted out, and back on the shelves. Willow is sitting at one end of the table with her iBook, and Anya is at the other with a stack of books.

Anya goes to the shelves for another book. “Really? Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Find me proof that he didn’t,” says Buffy. She wants proof one way or the other.

Dawn puts another stack of books back onto the shelf. “Well, you only think Spike is turning people ’cause that vampire told you so, right? But that night, I mean, we were all told things that weren’t true.”

Willow looks up from her iBook. “Maybe.”

“What?” asks Dawn. “What maybe?”

“Just because those weren’t the spirits of…you know, our people…” says Willow. “Just because it was some evil thing, doesn’t mean what they said can’t be true.”

Anya looks up from her book. “I used to tell the truth all the time when I was evil.”

“We can’t assume anything,” says Buffy. “We need hard facts.”

“Well, if Spike is biting people again, then shouldn’t there be more dead people with neck trauma? Right?” asks Anya. “And we can find that.”

Willow checks on her iBook. “No.”

“No, we can’t find that?” asks Anya. “But that’s easy. That computer’s a moron.”

“I mean, no, there’s not really an increase in neck injuries, but…” Willow brings up another screen of information.

“But what?” asks Buffy.

“Oh, missing people. Eight, maybe.” Willow finds some more. “Oh, ten of them. No bodies. They’re just…missing. Mostly young. Lots of girls.” She looks up at Buffy.

“So, it’s true,” says Dawn. “What that vampire told Buffy turned out to be true.”

“Maybe,” says Buffy. “But it still doesn’t prove that it’s Spike. Right now, he’s the only one who knows for sure.”

Spike pulls on his jacket. He notices that there’s something in one of the pockets, and he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He holds it up, and looks at it.

Flashback:

Spike remembers meeting the blonde girl in the Bronze. He remembers looking down at the girl’s dead body, with a bloody bite wound on her neck.

Xander is eating his diner and watching TV when Spike comes out of his room. He sees Spike heading for the door, and jumps up to block him. “No, no, no. You’re not going out.”

“I have to go,” says Spike.

“Buffy was very clear about the not leaving of you.”

“I know what the Slayer told you,” says Spike. “It’s not true. Let me go, and I’ll find a way to prove it.”

“Okay, I’m going to list the reasons that won’t happen.” Xander holds up a finger. “One…”

Spike punches Xander in the jaw, and Xander collapses to the floor, as Spike cries out in pain, and grabs at his head. Spike recovers quickly, and leaves Xander lying unconscious on the floor.

Xander phones Buffy to tell her what happened. “He hit you?” she asks.

Xander is holding an icepack against his jaw. “Knocked me out. He’s been gone at least half an hour.”

“Any idea where he’s headed?” asks Buffy.

The vampire explodes into dust as it lands in the middle of the dance floor. The band stops playing, and everyone stares at the place where the vampire vanished in stunned amazement.

Aimee Mann looks around at her band mates, and shrugs. They start playing again.

Buffy approaches the doorman checking IDs of the people in the line to get into the club that she saw Spike pick up the girl from. The bouncer sitting by the door opens it for her, and tells her she can go right in.

Buffy turns to the bouncer. “Uh, actually, I need some help. I’m looking for this guy. Bleach-blonde hair, leather jacket, British accent? Kind of sallow, but in a hot way?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the guy,” says the bouncer. “Billy Idol wannabe?”

“Actually, Billy Idol stole his look from—” Buffy drops that. “Never mind. Has he been here?”

“This guy your boyfriend or something?” asks the bouncer.

“No,” says Buffy. “I just— I need to find him. As soon as possible.”

“Yeah. Comes in here a lot lately,” says the bouncer. “Every night, leaves with a different girl. Chicks like Billy Idol.”

Buffy looks worried. “How many girls?”

The bouncer misreads Buffy’s apprehension. “Look…this guy, this not-your-boyfriend-guy, if I were you, I’d lose him. He’s a real player.”

Spike moves toward the pay phones at the back of the Bronze. The band is just coming off stage. “Man, I hate playing vampire towns!” says Aimee.

Spike picks up the phone, and drops a coin in the slot. He dials a number. “Hello? It’s me. … I’m seeing— I think I’m remembering. I think I’ve done some very bad things.”

“Where are you?” asks Buffy into her cell phone.

“I need— I need to see you,” says Spike. “There’s a house. 634 Hoffman Terrace.”

“I’ll meet you,” says Buffy.

Spike hangs up the phone. He turns away, and he sees the other Spike watching him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” says the other Spike. “It’s not time yet. Not nearly. You’re going against the plan.” He smiles. “But we can make it work.”

Act IV

Spike walks down the stairs into the house basement. “Down here.” He looks back up at Buffy, hesitating at the top of the stairs. She has a stake in her hand. “You won’t come down? I understand. It’s a risky proposition.”

The other Spike is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “There’s an order. Slayer’s not in order. But it can’t hurt to play. Get your claws in the mouse, you know?”

“You’re not here.” whispers Spike.

Buffy starts to come slowly down the stairs. She doesn’t see the other Spike. “All right. What do you want to show me?”

“I’ve been remembering,” says Spike. “The girl—I walked her home. The one you saw. And the one before that. And I think I killed her. And I think— I think I killed the lady who lived here. And— and there might be others.”

Buffy is horrified. “Oh, my god.”

“Here.” Spike walks out onto the dirt floor of the basement. “I think I buried them here.”

Buffy follows Spike, and looks down at the ground. “Spike, why?”

“Well, I don’t know, do I!” says Spike. “I don’t even know how. I shouldn’t be able—”

The other Spike starts to sing softly:

“Early one morning just as the sun was rising,
I heard a fair maid sing in the valley down below.”

“What? What is it?” asks Buffy.

“Oh don’t deceive me.
Oh, never leave me.
How could you use a poor maid so?”

Spike vamps out and attacks Buffy. He knocks the stake out of her hand, and it shatters some bottles on the shelves by the basement wall.

Buffy punches Spike away. “Spike! What are you doing?”

Spike grabs one of the pieces of glass off the floor and attacks Buffy again. He slashes her upper arm with it.

Buffy kicks Spike, and throws him to the ground. She jumps on top of him, and holds him down. “Spike, listen to me. You don’t want to do this.”

Spike throws Buffy off him. The other Spike sits watching and smiles. “And it’s just about to get fun.”

A hand erupts out of the ground. It’s joined by another.

Buffy looks around at the vampires clawing their way out of their shallow graves all around her. “Oh, god.” She punches Spike away, and gets to her feet.

Buffy finds herself surrounded by six more vampires. She punches and kicks at them, forcing them back, but she has no weapon.

Spike is sitting on the ground watching. The other Spike kneels beside him. “You know what I want you to do.”

One of the vampires grabs a shovel that’s leaning against the wall. He swings it at Buffy’s head. She ducks, and the blade of the shovel passes over her head, and smacks another vamp in the face.

Buffy spins to face the vampires trying to come up behind her. The vampire with the shovel grabs her from behind, and holds her. She elbows it away, and it drops the shovel. She swings around and tries to hit it with a backhanded punch but the vampire grabs her arm, and holds it. Another vampire grabs Buffy’s other arm.

Spike is still just watching. The other Spike looks toward the vampires holding Buffy. “They’re waiting for you. Take her, taste her, make her weak.”

Buffy struggles to break free from the vampires holding her as Spike gets to his feet, and slowly approaches her. “Spike, no!”

Spike steps up to Buffy. His mouth approaches her neck.

Spike pulls away a bit, he starts to move his mouth toward Buffy’s neck again, but he stops and sniffs. His attention is drawn to the bleeding wound on her arm. Spike leans down toward it, and licks Buffy’s blood.

Spike is overcome by a flood of memories of the people he has killed, and buried in the basement. He jerks away from Buffy, his face looking human again. “I remember.” He stumbles away.

Buffy breaks free from the vampires holding her, and grabs the shovel lying on the ground at her feet. She breaks off the head, making a nice long stake for herself. She uses it on the two vampires that were holding her.

The surviving four vampires attack. One from behind, and three from in front. Buffy kicks back at the vampire behind her, and drops to the ground. She uses the shovel handle to sweep the other three vampires off their feet. She springs back up and drives the handle into the hearts of the three vampires on the ground in quick succession.

The last vampire charges at Buffy again. She jabs backward, running her stake into the vampire’s chest. It explodes into dust.

Spike is huddled in the corner, holding his arms over his head. The other Spike is sitting beside him. “You failed them. Now she’s going to kill you. You lose, mate.”

Buffy looks around. There’s another hand reaching up out of the ground, but its owner can’t seem to break loose from the earth. She grabs the hand and pulls the vampire free. It’s a little old lady vampire, the owner of the house. “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s my job.” Buffy runs her stake through the little old lady vampire’s heart.

Buffy walks toward Spike. He looks up at her, and the shovel handle in her hand.

Spike pulls open his jacket, and exposes his chest. “Do it fast, okay?” Buffy just stands, looking down at him. “He said you’d do it!”

“Who said?” asks Buffy.

“Me. It was me. I saw it.” Spike looks around. “I was here the whole time, talking and singing. There was a song.”

“What are you talking about?” asks Buffy.

Spike drops his head into his hands. “I don’t know! Please. I don’t remember. Don’t make me remember.” Spike looks toward the stairs. “Make it so I forget again! I did what you wanted!”

Buffy looks up at the stairs. She just sees stairs. “There’s something here.” She tosses away her shovel handle stake.

“Oh, god, no. Please, I need that!” says Spike. “I can’t cry this soul out of me. It won’t come. I’ve killed, and I can feel them. I can feel every one of ’em.”

Buffy sits down beside Spike. “There’s something playing with us, all of us.”

“What is it?” asks Spike. “Why is it doing this to me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Help me,” says Spike. “Can you help me?”

“I’ll help you.”

The other Spike sits on the stairs watching Buffy and Spike together. He isn’t happy.

Epilogue

Spike sits huddled in a chair in the Summers’ living room, wrapped in a blanket. Buffy, Xander, Willow, Anya and Dawn are sitting around the research table, looking at him.

“And you believe him?” asks Anya.

“You didn’t see him down there,” says Buffy. “He really didn’t know what he’d done. It wasn’t in his control.”

“Oh, an out-of-control serial killer,” says Xander. “You’re right, that is a great house guest.”

“Wait,” says Dawn. “Is he— Is he staying here?” She doesn’t like that idea at all.

“I don’t know,” says Buffy. “But I’m not letting him out of my sight, that’s for sure.”

“Buffy, he’s been feeding,” says Willow. “On human blood! That’s got to do stuff.”

“I’m not keeping him around just to help him.” Buffy looks at Spike. “I think there was something there, talking to him, making him do things.”

“Something like what was talking to us?” asks Willow.

“Maybe,” says Buffy. “And if it was, then it’s been screwing with Spike big time.”

“So you want him around because…” says Xander.

“Look, there’s something evil working us,” says Buffy. “And if we are ever going to have a chance to fight it, we need to learn everything we can about it. This thing has been closer to Spike than any of us.”

Willow looks at Buffy. “And if you want to understand it…”

“I’m going to have to get close to Spike,” says Buffy.

“No,” says Xander, “it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t have a choice,” says Buffy. “Whatever this thing is ‘from beneath us,’ it’s bad. And it’s only getting worse.”

London, England

Giles pushes open the door to Robson’s apartment, and comes inside. He looks around, and finds Nora’s body on the floor. “Oh, dear god.” He kneels down beside her, and feels at her neck for a pulse. There isn’t one.

Giles looks around. “Robson, are you here?”

Giles hears a faint moan, and follows it around to the other side of a chair. Robson is lying on the floor, bloody hands over his belly.

“Robson!” Giles kneels beside him. “You, too.” Giles takes off his glasses, and hangs his head.

Robson opens his eyes, and looks up at Giles. Giles is surprised to see that he’s still alive. “Dear god, I thought you were—”

“Gather them.” whispers Robson.

“What?” asks Giles.

“It’s started.” says Robson.

“It’s all right. I understand,” says Giles. He doesn’t see the robed figure with a double headed battle axe behind him. The face under the robe’s hood is eyeless.² It swings the axe at Giles’ neck. “I’ll take care—”

Death Toll

Notes

1. The song Spike is humming:

   Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,

   I heard a fair maid sing in the valley down below;

   “O don’t deceive me,

   O never leave me!

   How could you use a poor maiden so?”

   “O gay is the garland, fresh are the roses

   I’ve culled from the garden to bind on thy brow.

   O don’t deceive me,

   O never leave me!

   How could you use a poor maiden so?”

   “Remember the vows that you made to your Mary,

   Remember the bow’r where you vow’d to be true;

   O don’t deceive me,

   O never leave me!

   How could you use a poor maiden so?”

   Thus sung the poor maiden, her sorrow bewailing,

   Thus sung the poor maiden in the valley below;

   “O don’t deceive me,

   O never leave me!

   How could you use a poor maiden so?”

2. These guys look like the Harbingers of the First.