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Part 3
Spike pried himself out from under Drusilla's sleeping form. Naked, he slid off the cold stone slab and maneuvered his aching body over to the doors of the old mausoleum. Outside, he could feel that there was still a lot of daylight left to burn. Damn, he hated the summer.
His skin was covered in scratches and shallow nip marks, stinging from hours of mistreatment. He smirked to himself, remembering the night's surprising turn of events, as he turned and watched Drusilla twitch and fidget fitfully atop the cold stone crypt. To his knowledge, she had never slept before, nor had any other vampire he had ever known.
I wonder what she's dreaming about?, he thought.
Drusilla spread her arms and flexed her fingers. She was a giant, towering above everyone around her. One by one, she picked them up and dropped them down her gullet like an enormous bird. As she ate, the world grew smaller until she was as big as a mountain. She noted a storm taking shape on the horizon, a red, fiery cloud that approached her at the speed of sound. She grinned and opened her jaws wide to draw the fire inside herself and consume it. Like she would consume everything, in time.
The fire drew up short of her, cautiously, as if sensing her intention. She giggled, reveling in her newfound power, and the stars in the sky overhead sang her name. The firestorm reared and took on the shape of a man, a pair of green eyes with a halo of gold forming where its face should have been.
Drusilla recoiled from those eyes, fearing what they saw in her. The fiery form closed on her and her fear turned to rage. Diving forward, she grabbed hold of her opponent and bore it down onto the uneven countryside. Huge clods of earth flew into the air and her undead flesh seared and smoked wherever it contacted the fiery warrior. She held on tenaciously, like a rabid dog, driving her enemy down into the earth with her body, smothering its flame.
The world went dark and she was underground now, in the depths of a burial crypt. The being in her arms had changed, becoming sensuous and frightening at the same time. It was Spike she wrestled with now, thrashing and writhing against her like a wild animal. He struggled to resist her, his piercing eyes becoming gold on green. She toyed with him, enjoying his pathetic struggles, knowing that she could overpower him at any time. Pinning his head to the floor, she bit deeply into his exposed throat and gorged on a rush of hot blood. The blood filled her with unimaginable ecstasy, tingling excitingly through her limbs. She drank deeply until the body she gripped so tightly collapsed in on itself, shriveling into nothing under her.
She awoke with a terrible hunger, her eyes snapping open like shutters, perfectly able to see in the pitch dark. She crawled to her knees and leaned over the edge of the cold crypt, a low throaty growl sounding from deep inside her.
"Spii-iike." She beckoned with a lilting sing-song voice.
Spike recognized the hungry look in her eyes and backed himself into a corner.
"Oh no, Pet," he groaned, "Not again. What do you think I am, a bloody machine?!"
Grinning playfully, she yowled like a cat and leaped on him, pinning his naked body to the floor.
Buffy trudged down the well-used path and stepped onto a long bed of warm sand on the edge of a freshwater lake. She wore a blue one-piece bathing suit with a light sarong knotted around her hips and brown leather sandals on her feet.
Xander and Gabriel came next. Gabriel was wearing only a plain white t-shirt and a pair of cut-off jeans with his towel draped casually across his shoulders. His sandals were worn and beaten from long days and nights of travel, but were very comfortable. Xander had on a pair of dark sunglasses and a bright, Hawaiian style shirt, left unbuttoned and hanging open. His shorts were faded blue and criss-crossed with old paint marks. He had a small water bottle wrapped up in his towel and slung over his shoulder like a hobo's travel pack.
Willow came next, dressed in a pair of overall shorts and a bright pink bathing suit underneath, embroidered with a small, cute cartoon character and a wide brimmed hat on her head. In one hand, she carried a mid-sized travel cooler filled with juice and snacks packed by her mother and, in the other, she dragged a collapsible beach umbrella behind her. A brimming carry all hung heavily from the crook of her elbow.
"Your secret place, huh, Xander?" Buffy cocked her head skeptically.
Xander looked up and down at the mass of sunbathers, mostly families with their children. Someone had gone through the trouble to truck in a massive amount of sand and spread it over the shoreline of one side of the lake, transforming it into a beach-like setting, a fact that had apparently not gone unnoticed by the people of Sunnydale.
"I guess all those cars parked on the side of the road WERE for here." He sighed, "NOW, what do we do?"
"Hey," Willow frowned looking down the other side of the beach. "Isn't that Anya?"
"Huh?" Xander turned around, craning his neck.
A young, dark-haired girl stalked down the beach with a scowl on her face and a rapidly melting ice cream cone in her hand.
"Is your father a thief?" she muttered to herself in a hollow idiot's voice, "Because he must have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes. Sheesh, like I haven't heard that one before. Humans can be such. . .such. . .-Xander!"
She stopped short with surprise, almost bumping into him.
"Anya, what are you doing here?" he exclaimed, looking her over. "I wouldn't have taken you for a beach person."
The dark haired girl wore a pair of khaki shorts and a tight yet attractively modest white tank top.
"I'm not." She explained, holding her dripping cone away from her body, "I came for the ice cream. They move the stand off the boardwalk and up here on the hot days."
She attempted to take a taste and found it had melted halfway down her hand. With a disgusted face, she dropped the sloppy ice cream onto the ground and kicked sand over it.
"My stuff is farther up. There's enough room for you guys too if you want." She offered, busily licking the melted ice cream off her fingers.
"Gwuh?" Xander's jaw hung open and his eyes were blank, mesmerized by her unintentionally seductive action.
"Geez, guys never fail to amaze me!" Buffy rolled her eyes, "How can ice cream be THAT sexual?"
She turned and noted Gabriel staring at Anya with an intense look in his eyes.
"What are YOU looking at?" she asked in a warning tone, prodding his arm sharply.
"Get back." He stepped between the three of them and Anya, "There's something wrong with her. I think she's a demon."
Anya's face soured.
"Oh, great, a seventh son, just what I need." She groaned, "Where did they pick YOU up? I hoped I'd never run into one of you self-righteous busybodies again. Yes, I am, or was, a demon called Anyanka. But now I'm trapped in human form until I die. Sucks, huh?"
"Anyanka?" he frowned, puzzled, "The patron of women scorned? I thought your kind were dying out?"
"We are." She sighed, shrugging helplessly, "Seems today's woman is a lot better at exacting her OWN vengeance. Which doesn't leave much work for me. Now are you guys coming or not?"
She stepped past him and started irritably up the beach. Looking to each other and shrugging helplessly, the four followed.
"This is it." Anya indicated a small area of sand that was clear of other beachgoers.
"Finally." Xander dropped his towel to the sand and slipped his shirt off his shoulders.
"Do you think there's enough room for all five of us?" Willow asked skeptically, taking stock of her extensive accessories.
"Sure." Anya took hold of Xander's arm, "You can sit next to me."
He sank down next to her, mildly bewildered.
"I think I'll just keep moving. I'd like to get a closer look at the falls." Gabriel softly brushed a fingertip inconspicuously along the length of Buffy's forearm, "Anyone want to come along?"
"That'd be great! I'd love to-" Willow brightened, then noticed Buffy watching her expectantly, "- stay right here. Yup, I'll just sit right here and get some sun."
Digging her umbrella into the sand, she sat down carefully on her towel under its shade. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. Digging into her carry bag, she took out a squeeze bottle of sunscreen and began liberally coating her arms, lower legs and the tops of her feet, the only exposed skin she had.
"SPF 60?" Xander cocked an eyebrow, "I didn't even know they made this stuff. What are you Will, a vampire?"
"Oh, no." she denied as if he were being serious, "I just like to be cautious, that's all. My skin is very sensitive."
"We'll be near the falls if anyone needs us." Gabriel called, slipping his hand around Buffy's and starting toward the falls.
"Yeah, bye." Anya commented, uninterested.
Gabriel watched the water flow out of the calm pool and over the rocky edge with interest. It wasn't very big as far as waterfalls went, but it was nice. He could still easily make out the forms of Xander, Willow and Anya down on the beach.
"It's such a beautiful day." Buffy leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she lay on her pink and yellow towel, basking in the bright sunshine. "It almost makes you forget that there are vampires and demons out there just waiting for the sun to go down."
"Demons usually don't mind the sun." Gabriel commented blithely as he pulled his shirt off over his head and waded into the chill water.
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me." She smirked, tilting her head up and watching him surreptitiously.
"You coming in?" he looked over his shoulder, his arms held tightly against his body, shivering.
"You look like you're going to die from hypothermia." She raised a shapely eyebrow, "I don't think so. I'm just going to lay out for a bit."
She laid back on her towel and fidgeted until she was comfortable on the grassy slope.
"Suit yourself." He dove into the water with an intentionally heavy splash.
Buffy screamed and sat up as a shower of cold water droplets cascaded across her body. She sat up swiftly, a sharp retort on her lips, but, upon seeing his outline efficiently cutting through the icy water beneath the surface, held it. She watched as he swam to the far side of the pool, then took a sharp turn in the opposite direction of the falls, all without rising to take a breath.
She settled back onto her towel and rolled over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. Allowing her eyes to sag half shut, she continued to watch him through slitted lids. She still could not believe how different he seemed now. Different, and yet very much the same. Her mind wandered back to the time when she had first met Gabriel, three months ago.
There had been an undeniable attraction between them from the start. As Slayer and Seventh Son, they had much in common, but circumstances had kept them apart. Just as things had started to get interesting, he had left Sunnydale and she had thought she would never see him again. A splash in the water caught her attention and she smiled slightly to herself as he broke the surface and flashed her a quick grin before diving under again.
Whatever had happened with him over the last few months had brought about a dramatic change in his disposition. It was as if all the pain he had been carrying around with him had just faded away. Now he exuded an aura of inner calm and serenity, like he'd become a whole new person. She relaxed and closed her eyes completely, thinking of how safe and comfortable it felt to be around him and, tentatively, considered the possibilities of the future.
He reemerged from the water, refreshed and invigorated. Slicking his wet hair back out of his face, he walked up the shoreline to where Buffy lay.
"Don't even THINK about dripping on me." She warned without opening her eyes as his shadow fell across her.
Smiling pleasantly, he knelt down next to her.
"What have you been smiling about up here?" he asked with curious interest, "Were you watching me?"
"How could I be watching you?" she evaded, feigning indignation, "My eyes were closed the whole time."
Shrugging knowingly to himself, he quickly toweled off, rubbing his hair to only mild dampness.
"Come here." He said, dropping his towel and tugging on her hand, "I want to show you something."
He helped her to her feet and led her by the hand down to the water's edge. Crouching, he pointed to a quiet corner of the pool where a few small insects skittered across the surface.
"Do you see that?' he asked, smiling faintly.
"Water bugs?" she shrugged, confused, "Didn't you have those in Europe?"
"Not the bugs. Take off your sandals and step on my feet." He directed, standing with his feet together.
"What?" she looked at him quizzically.
"Just do it." He pleaded gently, "You'll find out what I mean."
She hesitated, unsure of getting so close to him, especially when they were both only partially clothed. He took her by the hands and guided her in front of him so that she was facing away, her heels just in front of his toes. She could feel a soothing, radiant warmth, like the heat of the sun, emanating from his skin. Slipping out of her sandals, she stepped back carefully onto his feet.
"Are you sure about this?" she queried dubiously, positioning herself unsteadily, trying not to put too much pressure on his feet.
"Trust me." He assured her, gently steadying her with his hands on her hips.
She inhaled softly, breathing in the pleasant, exotic scent that always seemed to cling to him. Her pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow as she felt the familiar tingling in her skin that his closeness always evoked.
"Now, hold very still." He whispered, slowly transferring his hands to the top of her head.
His touch was gentle and deliberately careful as he positioned his palms on her head, his fingers interlaced at the top. Since Drusilla had stolen her powers, she had felt unsure and a bit lost, but his presence strengthened and comforted her. Standing this close to him, she felt protected, safe in the knowledge that he was there for her. She clasped her hands on his forearms, but resisted the urge to lean back against him. Sun and significant boy simultaneously touching her skin was an unusual occurrence, a little strange for her.
"Let all that is between my hands and my feet be within my power." He whispered almost inaudibly, "Let all that is between my hands and my feet be within my power."
"What are you doing?" she started to turn under his hands.
"Wait." He shifted, holding her still, "And watch."
He continued to repeat the phrase monotonously as if it was a mantra and, slowly, she started to feel something. Her body shuddered a little and she gasped as a flow of faintly prickling warmth flowed into her head and feet, filling her body and meeting in her middle. She closed her eyes as her every nerve ending flared with sensitivity and her mind opened up to the world around her, bathing her in a sea of sensation. Behind her, Gabriel's body went rigid and his breathing slowed and became tight.
"Look at the water." He muttered, concentrating, "Tell me what you see."
She obeyed, opening her eyes and looking at the pool again. Everything looked strangely intricate and beautiful to her now. It was like the world suddenly possessed an exciting new dimension, like nothing she had ever seen before. She could sense all the tiny creatures that lived within the water and understood, for no apparent reason, that the pool was clean and safe.
"What's happening?" Buffy whispered, awestruck, "Why does everything look so . . .deep?"
"You're seeing with my Second Sight." He explained softly, "If I concentrate, I can channel it into other people. See that aura around your reflection? It's like gold fire, isn't it?"
She focused her eyes on the water's surface and the reflection of Gabriel and herself. His lean, muscled body made an impressive silhouette, outlined in an aura of shifting green and gold light rays. Her own shape was limned with an attractive profile of bright, pure gold, licking around her like tiny flames.
"You mean this is what you see all the time?" she marveled, awestruck, "It's beautiful."
"Usually only when I try." He smiled warmly, leaning forward over her shoulder and touching his cheek to hers, "And you're right, it is beautiful."
Her chest tightened with desire and she felt herself drawn to him. Turning her head, she found her lips hovering temptingly close to his. He closed his eyes and smiled, reaching for her eagerly. Catching sight of their reflections one more time out of the corner of her eye, she turned away from him sharply in surprise.
"What is that?" she pointed quickly to the water.
"What?" he opened his eyes, a little confused, his mouth still reaching for hers.
"Look." she directed, pointing to the water.
Looking at the water's surface, he realized immediately what she was talking about. Almost invisible against the reflection of the bright summer sky, a thin tendril of gold stretched out from Buffy's aura in an unerringly straight line down into the north end of town, close to the largest of its cemeteries.
He eased her off his feet and stared at her, picking out the shimmering line of gold easily now. He wondered how he could have missed it in the first place.
"We have to tell Rupert about this." he stated worriedly.
Giles paced back and forth across his living room in agitation while Gabriel leaned back against one of the walls with his arms folded tightly over his chest. Buffy sat on the edge of a plush chair, watching her mother grow more and more tense without knowing why. Joyce was still at the apartment even though the uninviting ritual on her house had already been performed that morning. She felt she had found an ally in Giles now that he was in much the same situation with Gabriel as she was with Buffy and valued the solidarity.
Giles stopped pacing and looked to his nephew, "So what you're saying is that her powers haven't been stolen, only siphoned in some way?"
"That appears to be the case." Gabriel nodded grimly.
"Can't something be done to just cut the connection?" Joyce was doing her best to follow what was being said.
"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that." Giles scratched his head, uneasily.
"No, Mom's right." Buffy stood quickly, "Why can't we just cut Drusilla off? As long as my powers aren't being drained, I should get them back, right?"
"I wish that were true." Giles shook his head softly, "But from what you and Gabriel have told me it sounds like the bulk of your power has already been transferred. If we cut the connection now, your power may remain with Drusilla for good."
"So how do we reverse the faucets?" Buffy queried.
"Well, I-I-I've been thinking about what happened to you last night." Giles considered, touching a fingertip to his temple in concentration as he spoke, "You're sure Drusilla used an Orb of Thesulah, correct?"
"Either that or a fancy snoglobe." she cocked her head wryly.
"But you said it didn't disappear after the spell was cast." He reasoned, "Most often, an Orb is consumed by the power it channels. Unless. . ."
"Unless what, Giles?" she was usually pretty good at following his deductions, but this time he had lost her.
"Unless the orb is acting as a conduit, draining your power away." He concluded. "Yes, that's the only explanation."
"So all I have to do is get the orb back?" she speculated.
"We'll have to work out some way of redirecting the flow of power," he pursed his lips, the gears already working in his mind, "but that. . .seems to be the idea."
Gabriel's head snapped up and he pushed off the wall. He seemed to be staring at something invisible in the air.
"It's moving." He said ominously, "And that means Drusilla is, too."
"You mean this . . .this thread that you've been seeing?" Giles drew aside the curtain and looked at the half sunken sun, "How could she be moving? The sun hasn't completely set yet."
"Yeah, I know, but she is definitely moving." His eyes darkened and his jaw set with a hard edge, "And where Drusilla goes, so does Spike."
"Gabriel, I know you have had some past . . . issues with Spike," he watched his volatile nephew carefully, "but please, don't allow this to become a personal vendetta."
"Not a problem, Uncle." Gabriel assured the older man unconvincingly, as he started quickly stuffing a handful of stakes into a kit bag, "The objective is to regain Buffy's powers. But if Spike gets a heartfull of stake in the process, you won't see me crying about it."
"So what's the plan?" Buffy hoisted her own bag of weapons and slipped it over her shoulder.
"You are NOT going." Giles and Joyce declared together.
Gabriel and Buffy looked to one another with raised eyebrows.
"Gabriel, tell her to stay here." Joyce pleaded, "She'll listen to you. You're a Slayer, too, aren't you?"
"Actually, I'm not. And she's not going to listen to me, anyway." Gabriel shrugged with a helpless smirk, "Besides, I think she SHOULD be there."
"What?" Joyce sat back in her chair, stunned.
"If she's going to get her powers back, she'll have to get her hands on the orb and Drusilla." He explained, "I can't exactly carry them both home with me."
Joyce began to protest, but Giles cut her off.
"Gabriel's right, I'm afraid." He asserted gravely, "She must regain her powers, there is no question of that. If not for her own sake, then at least to deprive Drusilla of them. Who knows what's been happening with her since last night."
"Well then," Buffy commented with a wry smile, "the discussion portion of our show is apparently finished, now it's time to move on to the physical competition."
She nodded to Gabriel, who followed her to the door.
"You're not going to seriously let him take her with him, are you Rupert?" the pitch of Joyce's voice heightened with stress. "Rupert?"
Giles spread his hands, silent and helpless, and sank into his chair.
"Don't wait up." Buffy piped sweetly, closing the door behind them.
Buffy skipped quickly down the walkway from Giles apartment, keeping up with Gabriel's driven pace.
"Wow, that's two for two with my Mom, now." she observed, "You're really determined to get her to hate you, aren't you?"
"She was wrong." He said plainly, "I wasn't trying to argue with her. I just told her what I thought."
"A little reminder for future dealings with her." Buffy advised, "Speaking your mind is the shortest path to fightland. I'd prefer it if you two didn't end up locking horns every time you meet. Think of it as a stress reducer for me."
"Relax." He laid a comforting hand across her shoulders, "I told you, Mom's love me."
"Then she sure has a funny way of showing it."
Drusilla sauntered down the middle of the street, draining the blood from the body of a lean, uniformed policeman, the last rays of the descending sun beaming on her back without effect. Sprinting from one deep shadow to the next, Spike attempted to keep up with her, while still preserving his skin from the killing sunlight.
"Damn it, Dru." He hissed angrily, "Couldn't you have waited ten minutes until the sun was safely down. We could get toasted out here."
Drusilla spread her arms wide, discarding the policeman's corpse, and closed her eyes in a languid grin.
"I'm not afraid of the sun anymore Spike. I can feel him tickling me, but he's not laughing anymore because he thinks I'm going to eat him. I had a dream about eating fire, Spike, all hot and tingly going down my throat."
"Well, you might be ready for a suntan, Pet, but I'm not." He grumbled irritably, "I don't look forward to becoming a crispy critter the minute I zig when I should have zagged."
"But I'm hungry, Spike." She pouted, strolling over to join him in the long shadow of a large house and draping her arms around his neck.
"That cop was your fifth in the last half-hour!" he exclaimed, baffled, "How can you still be hungry?"
"I don't know Spike, but I want more." She nuzzled against a pair of puncture holes in his neck only an hour old, "Now."
"Forget it, Luv." He shoved her back a little, "My knees are still knockin' from the last feeding you took from me. I need to replenish myself too, you know."
The last sliver of sun settled down beyond the horizon and Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Stepping out from the depths of shadow, he raised his arms overhead exultantly.
"Ahhhh," he smiled, "I love florescent streetlamps."
His grin widened as he spotted a pair of human figures cutting through someone's back yard, approaching them.
"Hello?! Just what I was looking for." He folded his arms across his chest confidently, "You still hungry, Dru? I think this place delivers now."
The figures drew closer and pale light from the street lamp reached them, illuminating their faces. Buffy and Gabriel slowed their approach and stayed protectively close to one another.
"Well, if it isn't the punk and the pussywillow." Spike sneered, "How you feeling tonight, Slayer?"
Buffy gripped a wooden stake tightly in her fist.
"Good enough to dust you." She threatened.
"You're not looking so ship-shape yourself." Gabriel commented wryly, noting the multitude of scratches and bite-marks that marked his flesh, "Wake up on the wrong side of the coffin this evening?"
"Just a few love nips from my Dru." He shrugged, wrapping his arm around Drusilla and drawing her close. "You're going to be in for a heck of a lot worse."
"No thanks." Gabriel made a sour face, "She's a bit too insane for my tastes."
Spike's lip curled at the insult.
"I want the nasty boy." Dru grinned madly, stalking Gabriel, "I want to eat his eyes."
"Everyone got a partner?" Spike opened his arms in challenge and advanced on Buffy. "Time to dance."
Gabriel readied a stake, but Drusilla was on him in a flash. Gripping his wrist, she squeezed until he cried out and dropped his stake. Grinning, she squeezed harder, driving him to his knees.
Buffy moved to help him, but Spike jumped in front of her and backhanded her. Her head snapped to the side and she tumbled to the grass. It had felt like he had hit her with a sledgehammer, but it wasn't because his strength was any greater. Her resilience was nowhere near what it once was. Rolling with the blow, she regained her feet and stood, careful not to let him see her stagger.
"Nice hit." She remarked, feigning nonchalance, "But even without my powers, you hit like a girl."
But I guess so do I right about now, she reminded herself silently.
Spike snarled angrily and lunged at her. She ducked the savage swing and snapped a sharp stake against his chest, the point aimed at his heart region. The weapon struck home, but her wrist turned painfully, knocking the stake loose and only grazing him. She still had the instincts, but not the strength to follow them through. Spike grabbed her roughly around the throat and threw her back through the air to land in a child's sandbox. The impact knocked the wind out of her, left her stunned.
Holding his shallow chest wound, he stooped and picked up the stake that had pierced him. He advanced slowly, holding the stake pointing downward, like a dagger. Half out of the sandbox, Buffy struggled weakly to escape, but her body refused to respond.
Gabriel knelt in the grass, his face a mask of pain as Drusilla compressed the bones in his wrist until he was sure they would shatter.
"I want to taste those pretty eyes." She giggled, holding out a jagged thumbnail just under his right eye.
Desperate to escape, he bit into the flesh of her wrist, and a burst of salty blood filled his mouth. Drusilla screamed in shock, pain and outrage and shook her arm wildly in an attempt to dislodge him. Balling up his free hand into a fist, he smashed it into her face, once, then again and again. She growled in frustration and, throwing him down onto his hands and knees, smashed a kick into his side. The air whooshed out of his lungs and he tumbled across the cool grass. She followed, ready to finish him.
"Here, kitty-kitty, Mummy's got treats for you." She held out her empty, blood-drenched hand in offering.
Gabriel rose into a crouch, cradling his wrist. His bag was behind Drusilla, too far out of reach to make a play for. Why hadn't he listened to his uncle when he had been advised to always keep a stake hidden on his person? Suddenly, the advice seemed very sound.
Determined not to let her win, he snapped a sharp kick at her knee, but she blocked it easily. Spinning into a backfist, he grazed her across the chin, stunning her more than actually hurting her. He followed with a sharp uppercut and a kick to her stomach. The blows could have crippled an average human, but Drusilla shrugged them off with only minor effect. Taking another hit in the face, she clapped her hands tightly around the sides of his head and squeezed.
"I remember what you did to me in Prague." she leered, forcing his head up to meet her gaze, her eyes glittering with bloodlust, "How you and all those people hurt me. Now it's my turn."
Gabriel screamed and sank to his knees, prying desperately at her arms to try and relieve the pressure. Blackness crept into the edges of his vision and his sinuses compressed. He was sure that, any second now, his skull would collapse in on itself.
Spike pinned Buffy to the ground with one hand and held the bloody tip of the stake over her heart with the other. He pressed it hard into her skin and drew a line of his blood along her upper chest toward her throat.
"It's been a long time since I killed a Slayer." He grinned, pressing the tip of the stake against the hollow of her throat hard enough to make her cough.
"Sorry to break your streak." She reached under the collar of her shirt and withdrew a small silver crucifix that hung on a thin steel chain around her neck, pressing it against the flesh of his hand.
"Arrrgh!" he bellowed, dropping the stake and jumping off her, recoiling and clutching his wound, "You bitch!"
Buffy scrambled back, but Spike's attention was focused elsewhere for the moment. He saw Drusilla grab hold of Gabriel's head and start to squeeze. Noting the bloodthirsty look in his lover's eyes, he abandoned Buffy and ran to her.
"Dru!" he barked sharply, grabbing her by the arms and attempting to pull them away from the suffering seventh son, "Dru, stop it! Stop it!"
Drusilla fought him, struggling to keep her grip, like a dog with a bone, "But I'm so hungry, Spike!"
"If you kill him before we cast the spell, I won't get his power." He scolded her, "Think, sweetie, and give Spike the head."
Reluctantly, she allowed him to pry her fingers from Gabriel's skull, dropping the young man to the grass with a pained groan.
Spike jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, "If you're so hungry, you can eat-" he paused, his eyes darting about suspiciously, "She's gone."
"Spike, I need to eat now!" she whined insistently, her dark eyes wandering to Gabriel's prone form.
"All right, all right." He relented, scooping Gabriel's half-conscious form over his shoulder and still watching the shadows for the missing Slayer, "We'll stop for something quick on the way home."
Crouched quietly on the roof of a nearby house, Buffy clutched her kit bag close to her body and watched the two vampires as they headed back toward their mansion.