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Gabriel was only vaguely aware of his surroundings for what seemed like a long while. He knew he was being carried by someone and not a friendly someone. He knew also that Drusilla was there, close by. Even though he could not see her, he could sense the Slayer's power within her, burning like the white-hot flame of a blowtorch. He was taken inside a building and dumped roughly into a chair. Coarse rope was looped around his upper chest and rasped against his neck, binding him to the chair. His wrists were pulled tightly together in his lap and encircled tightly with rings of cold steel. Handcuffs, he knew distantly.
Someone shuffled around and lit a small fire. He could feel the heat of it against his legs, but not nearly enough that it would hurt him. He listened closer, hoping to learn more about his surroundings before his captors realized he had regained consciousness.
He felt a sharp prick against his thigh and the pain jarred him fully awake.
"Wakey-wakey." Spike chuckled, tapping a bloodstained stake in his hand.
"Spike." Gabriel growled, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. "What do you want?"
"I'm going to take your powers, golden boy." He smirked, pressing the sharpened piece of wood roughly under Gabriel's chin, "And, for that, I need you awake."
Dropping the stake carelessly to the floor, Spike held up the orb of Thesulah, rolling it between the fingers of one hand, and scanned the thin, crisp pages of the stolen spellbook.
"I can't read this gibberish!" he grumbled irritably, "Damn foreign languages. Dru, honey, I need you to take a look at this, will you, Luv?"
Drusilla languished against the arm of the chair she sat in, her arms wrapped tightly around her mid-section.
"I don't feel like it, Spike," she moaned in a strained whisper, dropping her bedraggled doll to the floor, "My tummy hurts and Miss Edith is a terrible nurse. All she does is stare at me."
"I wish you'd stop listening to that thing." Spike narrowed his eyes and looked sidelong at her, "It's just a bloody doll."
"She's dying." Gabriel muttered, watching her and smirking triumphantly.
"What the hell did you say?" Spike wrenched Gabriel's head upward, forcing him to meet the vampire's eyes, "Speak. Now, or I'll rip your eyes out."
"She's dying." The seventh son repeated with a small ironic chuckle, "What did you expect? The power of the Slayer is the antithesis of a vampire. It's consuming her from the inside out. And all the blood in the world can't save her."
Spike released Gabriel's jaw and frowned, caught in a dilemma. He began to pace, looking to Drusilla's suffering, then back to Gabriel's cocky smirk.
"What the Hell am I listening to you for?" he jabbed a finger in Gabriel's direction, "You're just looking to mess with my head. She's made seven kills in the last two hours, OF COURSE she's sick! You try eating like that and then tell me you don't want to toss your cookies."
He crouched down next to Drusilla and touched his forehead to hers.
"Dru, Baby, come on. You've got to get up." He urged gently, "I need you to work the magic again."
"Ooohh," she groaned as he slowly helped her to her feet and pressed the Orb into her hand.
"Come on, Baby, just one more time." He whispered softly.
Scattering a handful of sand over the orb, she muttered the magic words, low and tight under her breath, squeezing them out between clenched teeth. Instantly, the Orb began to glow with a soft yellow radiance. Spike accepted the orb from her trembling fingers, pausing only a moment to reevaluate Drusilla's condition as she sank back into her chair, before turning around to stand in front of Gabriel.
The auburn-haired young man watched the vampire carefully, his eyes steady and his face impassive.
Spike pulled Gabriel's cuffed hands forward, forcing them out straight, and held them upturned in his lap. Gabriel's wrists were red and raw where the cuffs had scraped. Spike held the Orb of Thesulah over Gabriel's open palms.
"Now all you have to do is touch this and I can start draining your powers." He grinned, "Then we'll REALLY have some fun."
Gabriel pressed back into his chair, pulling his arms away weakly as the Orb came closer to his fingers.
"I can't believe you were going to have a party without me." Buffy appeared in the doorway with a loaded crossbow pointed at Spike's heart and a sword gleaming in her other hand, the broken door swinging softly on its hinges. "But, that's okay. I still brought you something."
"I knew I should have fixed that door." Spike sighed in annoyance, "Take a hike, Blondie. Without your Slayer powers you're not even worth the time it would take to break your neck."
"I may not be as strong as I used to be, but I can still aim." She fixed him with a hard glare, "That's the great thing about crossbows. You only have to be strong enough to pull the trigger. Even without my powers, I'm still the Slayer."
"Crossbow's only got one shot." Spike sneered confidently, "And there are two of us. Better think fast. Get her, Dru."
Drusilla lurched from her chair with a pained groan and ripped the sword from Buffy's grasp. Throwing the weapon aside disdainfully, she grabbed Buffy's other wrist and shook the crossbow loose. The blonde girl kicked out weakly and struggled to escape the vampire woman's vise-like grip.
As Spike watched her, Gabriel squirmed in his chair and kicked out with his foot, connecting with Spike's wrist. The vampire's arm snapped up and the Orb of Thesulah flew from his grip.
"Buffy!" Gabriel shouted, locking his legs around Spike's knees and toppling him to the floor, "The Orb!"
Spike and Gabriel hit the floor hard in a tangle of limbs.
"Dru!" he grunted, attempting to fight free of Gabriel's crushing legs.
Buffy twisted her body around, reaching for the orb, but Drusilla fought her, attempting to intercept the flying globe. Simultaneously, they both grabbed it, their fingers interlacing around its cool, smooth surface as they tumbled to the floor. The pair came up kneeling, Drusilla's snarling visage only inches from Buffy's as they vied for control of the orb. Their eyes met for a brief moment and, instantly, they froze, their arms falling slack, but still retaining contact with the Orb.
Spike kicked Gabriel in the face and pulled his legs free, clambering to his feet.
"Dru?" he whispered, leaning down close to her and looking carefully at her blank face.
He passed his hand in front of her unseeing eyes a few times with no response. He repeated the process in front of Buffy with the same results. Shrugging, he picked up her discarded crossbow and pointed it at her face.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Gabriel warned from behind him.
Spike cocked an eyebrow and peered slowly over his shoulder. Somehow he had gotten free of the ropes and he stood with Buffy's sword clenched in his fists, which were still cuffed at the wrists. His eyes were hard as green glass and his jaw set in grim conviction.
"Kill Buffy and you'll kill Dru." he elaborated, "They're in a shared trance brought on by the Orb. If one dies, then so does the other."
"I guess that gets her off the hook for now, doesn't it?" Spike's face tightened into an animalistic mask and his fangs bared, "but that don't mean squat for you, punk!"
Whirling, he fired the crossbow. The arrow streaked across the room, grazing Gabriel's neck and punching out through the window. Right behind it, Spike pounced on the seventh son, driving him back against the wall, his hands locked around the boy's throat.
Buffy blinked her eyes and looked around in confusion. She was standing in the middle of a medieval looking church, complete with fine oak pews and stained glass windows. Each window was a depiction of a venerated saint from the bible, not that she recognized any of them, spilling colored light across the immaculate floor. As strange as it appeared to her, she found that it felt familiar somehow. Toward the altar, she could make out a faint whimpering and she stepped forward tentatively to investigate.
"I'm sorry, Mummy." a girl's voice beseeched, "I can't help what my eyes show me."
As she drew closer to the altar, she found Drusilla curled into a ball, laying on her side next to it with her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"I try not to see these things," she continued, whimpering, unaware of Buffy, "but the harder I try, the more I see."
She flinched violently, like a restless dog in its sleep.
"No, no, Mummy, please. I love our Lord, I would never turn my back on Him. Mummy, please! No! Not that terrible monastery! Don't send me there! There are ghosts there!"
The vampire's eyes snapped open and, instantly, her body stilled. Her face twisted into its vampiric form, she crawled slowly to her feet.
"Hello, Buffy." she purred, stepping casually down off the dais, "Do you know where we are?"
"Well, it's not Billy Graham's church, that's for sure." she ventured, looking around for some sort of weapon.
Near the front there were basins filled with holy water. She edged carefully backward toward them.
"This is the monastery where Angel came to visit me." she smiled, relishing the memory, "This is where he MADE me."
Buffy inched ever closer to the water basins, trying not to let Drusilla's reminder of Angel's dark path distract her.
"My Mummy sent me here so I would be good again, stop seeing things." Drusilla brought her hands up to her mouth and caught the sleeve of her dress between her teeth in a nervous, childlike mannerism, peering furtively up at the figures depicted in the stained glass windows, "She said they would be watching me, to see if I was being bad. I tried to be good, I tried so hard. But Angel wouldn't have it. He said he had to have me, that we were meant to be together."
A flare of anger tinged with jealousy rose within Buffy and she gripped one of the water basins and threw it across the room at Drusilla. It sailed farther than she had anticipated, easily reaching the vampire and bouncing at her feet, drenching her from head to foot. Apparently, it seemed, she had gotten her powers back.
Drusilla screeched with shock and outrage and jumped back as the holy water doused her.
"Look at what you've done to my dress!" she cried accusingly at Buffy, holding her dripping arms out away from her sides and looking down at herself, "Now no one will ask me to dance at the quartermaster's ball!"
"You . . .You should be burned." Buffy gasped.
"You really don't know where we are, do you?" Drusilla giggled derisively, water dripping harmlessly off her chin, "It's the Astral plane, Dearie. The mind is free of the limitations of the body here."
Buffy realized why this place felt so familiar now. It felt the same as her dreams.
"So what are we doing here?" Buffy narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "You're hardly someone I'd like to be sharing a daydream with."
"It's the Orb." Drusilla raised her arms and turned slowly, gesturing to everything around them, "All of it. We have a connection, you and I. I have your power and you want it back. We're here to settle things. Break the connection."
"So all I got to do to get my powers back for real is kick your butt?" the blonde Slayer raised her hands into fists. "This should be a snap."
Drusilla bowed her head and began to chuckle darkly. Her shoulders twitched and began to bulge, rippling with thick, corded muscles. Her flesh changed color, turning a dusky purple-gray, and became bumpy and hard. She reared and roared deafeningly, displaying a mouth full of needle-like fangs and fiery, blood-red eyes.
"Okay, maybe snap was the wrong word to use." She reconsidered, backing away from the terrible creature before her.
Gabriel landed across a wooden chair and felt it smash under his weight, jamming painfully against his ribs. Throwing his cuffed hands forward, he was able to absorb some of the impact, but not much. Rolling, he struck out at Spike with a double fisted swing and followed with a swift kick. Spike dodged the attacks and stepped inside his reach. Instinctively, Gabriel punched with his left, capitalizing on a perfect shot at the vampire's unprotected throat. The cuffs restrained him and the blow never landed, pulling him off balance instead. Grinning cruelly, Spike backhanded him across the face, throwing him hard against the wall. Gabriel stumbled dizzily and shook his head to clear it, a warm trickle of blood crawling out of his nose. The raw marks on his wrists were starting to bleed now, too.
"You know, this might be even better than stealing your powers." Spike considered, cracking the knuckles of one fist. "I'm really havin' fun!"
"Let me out of these cuffs and I'll show you fun." Gabriel growled, twisting ineffectually at the metal restraints.
"You've already had your fun." The blonde vampire scoffed, snapping a kick up toward Gabriel's midsection, "Now it's my turn. Besides, you don't really think I'd let you go, do you?"
Gabriel brought both hands down in a solid block, but left his head unguarded and caught a hard fist across his jaw. He staggered back, blocking two more punches, then retaliated, stuffing a side kick into Spike's mid-section. The vampire snarled, skidding back with the force of the strike, but rebounded with rabid tenacity. Gabriel punched out and when Spike turned his fist aside, his other arm was forced to follow, leaving him defenseless again. Spike drove a knee into his abdomen and clubbed him over the head with his fist. Gabriel felt his teeth clatter together as he hit the floor and his bruised lungs labored for air. The damn cuffs! They were too limiting, to both his mobility and his options. But perhaps there was a way he could turn them to his advantage.
"Get up, punk!" Spike sneered, "So I can throw you down again."
Gabriel complied, rising slowly, and kept his hands close to his body. Feinting with a low kick, he dove forward as Spike stooped to intercept it. He leaped up and looped the short length of chain between his wrists around Spike's throat, circling behind him and pulling his arms back tight.
"Ack!" Spike coughed, straining to pry the cuffs away from his throat.
Gabriel jerked hard, driving the metal chain deeper into his flesh.
"Still having fun?" he grunted harshly in the vampire's ear, driving his knee into his lower back for more leverage, "What's that? I can't hear you."
Spike shoved back with his legs, crushing Gabriel up against the wall, but the seventh son took the pain stoically and held on. Spike's vision darkened and his limbs grew steadily weaker as the blood flow to his brain was effectively cut off and, gradually, he fell unconscious. Gabriel held the chain tightly for another few minutes, just to be sure, then yanked the cuffs over his head and let Spike fall flat on his face.
His adrenaline level starting to fade, he fell to one knee, tired and in pain. He hurt all over, particularly his ribs where he had landed on the chair and a lengthwise strip along his back that promised to bruise painfully in the days to come.
Near the door, Buffy and Drusilla were still locked in their trance, the tiny muscles of their faces twitching occasionally the way a dreaming sleeper's might. Wiping a thin trickle of blood from his nose and rolling Spike's limp body over, he rifled through his pockets searching for the keys to the handcuffs. He paused and looked once more to Buffy's face, hoping that she would be all right.
Buffy ducked, barely avoiding a heavy punch that shattered the back of a wooden pew. Diving between Drusilla's legs and rolling, she came up behind her and kicked her in the back. The Drusilla beast roared angrily and spun around, her taloned hands ready. As the battle progressed, she was continuing to change, the irises of her eyes becoming slitted like a snake's and her skin sprouting leathery, grayish scales. It seemed she was getting bigger, too.
Buffy avoided a savage swing and moved directly into the path of Drusilla's whip-like tail. The impact knocked her bone-jarringly against a tall wooden statue of some unknown saint and she wrapped her arms around it, half using it as a shield. When had Drusilla developed a tail?
She staggered back as Drusilla struck the statue again with her tail. The statue shook violently and Buffy stepped away from it, into the light of one of the stained glass windows. A wave of serene warmth washed over her and a familiar, ghostly voice sounded inside her head.
"Remember the fire." It said, "It will save you."
Drusilla roared and knocked over the statue, toppling a stand of candles, as well, dropping them at Buffy's feet.
"Fight me!" she snarled, her voice deep and distorted.
Remember the fire, Buffy's dream voice told her.
Buffy crouched and touched the guttering flame of one of the candles to her palm and it stuck there painlessly. Cradling the tiny flame in her hand, she held it up in front of her face and blew on it gently. Drusilla's eyes widened and she took an uneasy step back as the flame flared and raced across Buffy's skin, transforming her.
Buffy felt the fire course over her, through her, and reveled in the power it unleashed. Heat washed over her and her limbs sang with newfound strength. She was bigger now, equal to Drusilla, a towering woman-shape composed entirely of searing golden fire.
"You want a fight?" Buffy grinned, the air around her shimmering with the intense heat, "I'm all yours."
Drusilla took another shaky step back, her hulking, scaly form seeming to shrink in on itself. Her stomach was starting to hurt again, knotting in a sickness that was rooted in her mind.
"Spike." She murmured fearfully, rising into a desperate scream, "Spike! Help me!"
Her cry echoed off the walls of the cathedral, gaining resonance as it bounced. A concentrated area of air before her began to shimmer and waver, just above the floor. Thin tendrils of distortion knitted together and fused into the form of Spike, laying prone on his side. Drusilla's face twisted up in an evil smile.
"Come here, Spike." She cooed as her lover sat up groggily.
"Wh-what's happening, Dru?" he blinked in confusion, "Where are we?"
"It's the dreamworld, Spike." She caressed his head lovingly, "You must have been sleeping and heard me call. How sweet."
Spike gripped her arms and pulled himself to his feet. Where his hands contacted her, a cloud of sparkles and glowing light erupted. Tugging his arm back, he found that he was stuck to her.
"What the Hell is this!" he demanded, jerking violently to try and free his arm, "What happened to you?"
"Shhh, shhh, shhh. It's all right, dear." Drusilla comforted him as the glow traveled farther up his arms, engulfing him and fusing them together, "We're going to kill the Slayer together."
Spike shook and fought, his arms and entire lower half melded with her. The radiant phenomenon took the rest of him quickly, and their massive, combined body metamorphosed into a giant two headed dragon-like thing. The head on its left was shaped like a reptilian version of Drusilla, while the one on its right was like Spike.
"Yeah," the Spike head hissed with pleasure between needled teeth, "I see what you mean now."
As the ponderous, four-footed creature stepped forward, Fire-Buffy grappled it around its massive, barrel-like chest and heaved it against the stone altar, crushing it into rubble. As the creature roiled and thrashed trying to right itself, the Drusilla head snapped angrily at her, but drew back from the aura of scorching heat which surrounded her. The Spike head was smarter. Choosing instead to grasp a chunk of stone in its maw, it whipped its long neck around and flung it like a missile. The stone caught Fire-Buffy in the midsection, doubling her over in pain. The flame aura surrounding her dimmed as she staggered back, fighting to put some distance between her and her adversaries.
Seizing the advantage, the beast's two heads shot out, each clamping its jaws around an arm and hoisting her into the air. Fire-Buffy screamed piercingly and liquid light spilled from her wounds, as she was lifted, dangling and defenseless.
Gabriel snapped open the second cuff and dropped the metal restraints to the floor, rubbing viciously at the raw spots on his wrists. Spike lay unmoving at his feet, limbs splayed, defenseless. Scanning the room, Gabriel found nothing that would make a serviceable stake. The fragments of broken furniture were all too blocky and dull. Dragging him out into the sun would be pointless, too. He would definitely wake up long before the sun rose again. If Gabriel had his way, the murderous vampire would never wake up again. That left only decapitation, holy water or fire. The last was too risky to be an option and holy water was inefficient, not to mention messy as Hell. Gabriel picked up Buffy's discarded sword and hefted it experimentally. Guess it would have to be decapitation, after all.
As he lined up the shot, touching the razor edged steel against Spike's exposed throat, Buffy jerked and made a harsh choking sound in the back of her throat. Gabriel edged away from Spike, the sword still pointed at the vampire's throat, and squatted next to Buffy. Her breathing was erratic and strained and her face was tight with distress. It was like she was having a particularly traumatic nightmare. Drawing up her sleeves, he found that the skin of her forearms had become red and blotchy as if from a bad case of poison ivy or a violent allergic reaction. Wrinkling his nose, he was sure he detected the acrid stink of burnt hair in the air.
Drusilla was killing her, he realized, destroying her spirit in a combat of wills. He had heard of such things happening, often between opponents who were psychically sensitive. If the spirit died, then so, too, would the body. He had to help her somehow. At one of the darkest points in his life, Buffy had been there for him. She had given him more compassion than he had given himself and now he hoped to repay a small portion of that debt.
Sitting down next to her in a lotus position, he laid the sword across his lap and covered both her hands with his. He closed his eyes and willed his mind into a state of tranquil calm. Years ago, while he had been studying in Japan, his master had taught him to meditate. Gabriel had found the lesson boring and, at the time, considered the skill useless. Now he prayed that he had not forgotten how.
Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, he prepared himself, surrendering his thoughts and choosing to simply exist and not to think. He felt his surroundings slowly melt away, although his senses remained as sharp as ever. It had been hard to get used to, this state of unconscious awareness. Concentrating on the soft, warm hand under his, he let himself sink down even further in search of Buffy's spirit.
Fire-Buffy gritted her teeth as the two headed demon pulled her arms in opposite directions, their needlelike teeth digging into her ephemeral flesh. Straining to keep her mind focused, she thought of fire and intense heat. Her skin flared brightly and the two demon heads cried out and released their hold as their lips were seared. Buffy dropped to the floor, cradling her wounded arms against her body.
The Drusilla-Spike beast writhed and glared at her balefully with its four eyes, its jaws slavering to cool its burnt skin.
"You can't win, Slayer." The Spike head snarled, shooting out and snapping its teeth together just inches from her face.
"He's right, Dearie." The Drusilla head agreed, circling around and butting her from the side with its massive maw.
Fire-Buffy stumbled over an overturned pew and fell against the wall. They were right, she knew. Defeating Spike or Drusilla alone would be a task in itself, but both of them together, coupled with her stolen Slayer power would be impossible. This dreamworld was too strange and unpredictable. She hadn't had the time to learn how to use its peculiar laws to her advantage. But she wouldn't go down without a fight. Crouching, she ducked under the Spike head and readied herself for a leap of desperation that would, more than likely, cost her her life.
Fire-Buffy screamed as Spike's needle-filled jaws intercepted her and clamped down on her shoulder, piercing deep and spraying hot, luminescent orange blood across his maw. The head reared, hoisting her into the air and, its lips smoking from the contact, shook her limp body wildly like a rabid dog. It threw her against the wall with brutal force and she collapsed in a heap beneath one of the ornate stained glass windows.
Her flames were flickering now, weakening. She crawled slowly to her knees, too weak to even stand. In this world, Spike and Drusilla were too powerful. She simply couldn't compete.
Spike's head leered and reached into the beam of colored light that streamed through the window, licking it's seared lips with a forked, purple tongue. With a dark chuckle of triumph, it lunged forward with blinding speed, teeth bared for a fatal bite. Buffy raised her arms to shield herself, but the needle-tipped teeth never reached her. Drusilla had pulled her half of the body back, causing Spike's attack to jerk and fall short. Spike tugged on his half of the body irritably, and turned his long neck around to look questioningly at Drusilla. She was staring, wide-eyed and awestruck at the stained glass window above Buffy's head.
Colored beams of light poured through the meticulously laid panes of glass, bathing the Drusilla-Spike beast in a column of bright radiance. The figure depicted in the window was a powerful Archangel holding a gleaming golden trumpet. The glass bent and filled out into a three dimensional shape of the archangel, seeming to gradually gain consciousness as it pulled itself free from the window. Both heads of the Drusilla-Spike beast coiled back cautiously as the archangel hopped off the ledge and dropped softly to the floor between them and Buffy.
"Get up." the archangel whispered soothingly to Fire-Buffy. His voice was deep and resonant, otherworldly.
She reached out weakly and took hold of his twinkling, many-faceted hand and strength filled her again. Warmth flooded up her arm, reenergizing her tired body and feeding her dying flame. The archangel was healing her.
"Gabriel." she smiled, standing near to him and staring into the green glass of his eyes. One word, one touch and she had no doubt as to who he was.
"It's that punk kid!" the Spike head snarled, grinding the thick talons of his forefoot into the cold stone floor, "How did HE get here?"
"It doesn't matter, Spike." the Drusilla head sneered, watching them, its reptilian lips pulling back to expose deadly teeth, "They don't know the rules. This is OUR game."
The Drusilla-Spike creature stepped forward with renewed confidence, slow and anticipatory, its two heads writhing and watching them appraisingly from atop long sinewy necks. Their faces had become longer and boxy, more dragon-like, and their original features were almost unrecognizable. Only their voices, although deep and distorted, held a measure of their former selves.
The Spike head lunged, smashing its heavy snout into the glass archangel's chest. Gabriel's new body crashed back against the wall of the church and he fell to one knee, breathless and in pain. Pressing a hard, faceted hand to his chest, he was glad to find that nothing was broken. Apparently, his skin was very resilient, more like transparent, colored steel than actual stained glass. Still, it hurt like Hell.
"I'm sorry," the Spike head sneered venomously, "Did I hurt you?"
Buffy stepped in front of the two-headed monstrosity and spread her arms protectively before Gabriel.
"Get away from him." She shouted, her fiery body flaring warningly.
The two heads looked to each other and chuckled darkly, saliva dripping from their jaws.
"What do you say, Dru?" the Spike head queried sarcastically, "Should we leave 'em alone?"
"Hmmm, I don't know." The Drusilla head considered, touching the end of her forked tongue to the tips of her pointed teeth thoughtfully, "Remember that dream I told you about? The one where I swallowed fire? I think I might like to do it again."
"Got fire in your belly, have you?" the Spike head leered craftily, "I think I could put that to good use."
Throwing his great reptilian jaws wide, he vomited forth a stream of blazing green fire. Buffy intercepted the roaring jet, crossing her forearms in front of her face and shielding Gabriel from the brunt of the blast.
The emerald flame was cold, as chilling as the void of outer space, and she screamed piercingly as her body was wracked with absolute agony and her inner fire was doused.
"Noooo!" Gabriel lurched to his feet, clasping his glittering arms around her wilting form, and whipped her around, turning his back to the flame.
The Drusilla head cackled and added her breath to Spike's geyser of icy fire, turning a stream into a torrent. Buffy and Gabriel were both screaming now, as the cold seemed to leech into their very souls. The Drusilla-Spike beast redoubled its efforts, engulfing the two totally in verdant fire so that they were lost from view. The screams died off, swallowed in the roaring rush of the flames.
The two-headed creature continued to spew fire until its lungs were completely emptied. Breathing heavily in exhaustion, both heads of the beast grinned in satisfaction, watching the dying column of flame and hoping to find some trophy of its victory. The blaze guttered down into an oblong ball shape that stirred slowly. The Drusilla-Spike beast stumbled back on its thick, stubby legs, aghast.
The inferno had reshaped into the form of an angel, a beautiful androgynous being with flowing hair and graceful, feathered wings, all composed of the same fluid green flames. The being straightened with the innocence of a newborn and held its arms outstretched, enamored by the sight of its newly-formed limbs.
Buffy felt like she was flying. Every movement brought joy to her heart and every breath was like music inside her. And she wasn't alone. Gabriel was with her. No, he WAS her. And she was him. She felt a thousand separate emotions whirling around inside her and saw a dozen different places she had never been.
In Africa, she prowled across the savanna, adapting to the harsh conditions as if she had been born to them, at one in the wild with the lions and the cheetahs. In Czechoslovakia, she wept over the death of a small child, her heart aching with guilt. And on her first trip to America she gazed admiringly into the eyes of a beautiful young Slayer, her perfect match in every way, and felt her heat skip a beat.
Gabriel felt his heart drop into his stomach as the realization of the prophecy sank in and he knew without doubt that he would die fighting the Master. Reaching deep down, he found the strength and conviction to accept the responsibility laid out before him and surrender his life for the good of the world. He rested on his bed with Mister Gordo the stuffed pig in his lap, staring up at the stars, and considered the irony of being a Slayer in love with a vampire. He wept bitter tears as he kissed Angel one last time before doing the unthinkable. Holding his lover's eyes, he plunged the sword in the vampire's heart and pushed him through the portal to Hell.
Together, they shared some of the greatest and darkest moments of each other's lives, all in a matter of seconds.
The luminescent angel opened its dark green eyes and faced the Drusilla-Spike creature with deadly calm. Snapping its wings out wide, it bathed the rafters of the old church with an eerie green light.
"Uh-oh, Luv." The lizard-like Spike head narrowed its dark eyes suspiciously, "I think we may be in for some trouble."
Both heads sucked in a deep breath and blew a thick column of green fire at the amalgam angel as it stalked forward, slow and steadily. The flames licked around the advancing figure without any effect. In fact, the angel appeared to be drawing the flames into itself, growing larger and stronger until the roof of the church could no longer contain it.
The Drusilla-Spike beast stepped back, avoiding chunks of falling roof stones and releasing a fresh blast of fire. The angel threw its great wings forth, casting a powerful torrent of wind before it. The two-headed creature's breath turned back on itself, slamming back down the gullets from which it had originated. The beast fell back, grating its ponderous hind quarters against the stone wall, coughing and choking on green smoke and tiny flames. It made one more feeble attempt to spew fire before the angel was upon it, resulting only in a puff of green gas.
The creature shrank in on itself, its halves separating and metamorphosing back into its component personalities. Spike and Drusilla collapsed weakly to the floor, breathless and stunned.
The angel stooped and took each of the vampires in one of its massive hands, holding them up to eye level like tiny dolls.
"It's over." It stated in a thunderous voice that shook the countryside, sounding like a chorus of Buffys and Gabriels.
The two vampires looked to each other in dismay, then into the giant green eyes of their captor and swallowed uneasily.
Giles approached the old mansion cautiously, with Willow, Xander and Joyce in tow. Each carried two bottles of holy water and an assortment of sharpened wooden stakes. Giles also held a heavy, steel crossbow furtively close to his body as he walked. Joyce had chosen a wooden cross as her only weapon, but had insisted that she be included in the plan against Rupert's advice. The former Watcher had known then, as he knew now, that she would not be dissuaded.
The sight of the place put a knot of discomfort in Giles' stomach. The last time he had been here, he had been tortured beyond coherence. The memory was difficult to forget.
"This way." He whispered, directing the small entourage to the front door, "I'll take the point."
"Point?", Xander cocked his head, "What are we, migrating geese?"
"Without the spell Willow found, Buffy may never get her powers back again. And I'm afraid to say that Gabriel may not be enough to protect her this time." Giles paused at the door, his hand white-knuckled around the knob. The jamb had been shattered and the door hung loose on its hinges.
Nodding to the others to ready themselves, he gave the door a push and stepped inside. What he found there was nothing like he had expected.
Most of the room's sparse furniture had been overturned or broken. Spike lay in an undignified heap, unconscious on the floor in the center of the room. Off to one side, Buffy sat, still as a statue, directly across from Drusilla who knelt in an identical zombie-like condition. Next to Buffy, both his hands over hers, Gabriel sat in a lotus position in a self-induced trance, with Buffy's favorite sword across his lap.
A dying fire guttered in the hearth, shedding only a modest amount of dark orange light into the room.
"Did somebody call naptime when I wasn't paying attention?" Xander scratched his head, experimentally nudging Spike's unmoving body with his toe, "Man, this is like kindergarten all over again. Except with vampires."
"What's wrong with them?" Joyce crouched next to Buffy and hesitantly stroked her hair, her voice shrill with concern.
Giles knelt by Spike and touched the swollen, red line across the vampire's throat.
"Spike appears to have been choked into unconsciousness." He surmised, turning to study his nephew, noting the numerous bruises and the blood that oozed out of one nostril, "Judging by these marks, I'd say Gabriel was the one who did the choking. After that, it looks like he purposely put himself into some sort of trance."
His eyes wandered to Buffy and Drusilla's unblinking faces and then dropped to the Orb of Thesulah in their hands.
"I can only guess what has happened here." He admitted with a puzzled frown, "But I think it's safe to assume that it has something to do with the Orb."
"This looks serious." Willow commented, looking at the pair closely, "Some kind of shared psychometabolic transference, maybe?"
"Quite possibly." Giles rubbed his chin with interest, "They're certainly showing all the classic signs."
"Can I lead the team in a resounding 'Huh?'" Xander spread his hands and wrinkled his forehead.
"Yes, what ARE you talking about?" Joyce eyed Giles, exasperated and confused.
Giles unconsciously slipped into instructor mode. "Well, it's a classic example of - "
"YAHH!" Xander jumped nervously and fearfully held out a cross at arm's length in Spike's direction, "He moved! Heeee moved."
One of Spike's arms had twitched and he began to stir. The room's three other sleeping occupants began to awaken, as well. Buffy and Drusilla released their hold on the Orb of Thesulah and fell back, away from one another, each with a sharp gasp. They staggered to their feet, struggling to regain their senses.
As Joyce rushed to her daughter's side, Gabriel quickly slipped his feet under himself and hopped up, next to her. Across the room, Spike coughed and held his hand against his throat as Dru pulled him to his feet.
"All right." The blonde vampire rasped, his voice box bruised, "Let's start with round two."
Buffy accepted a stake from Willow and looked Spike over dubiously.
"You're kidding, right?" she tapped the stake confidently in the palm of her opposite hand, "There are six of us and only two of you. And by the feel of it, I got my powers back. Do you have some kind of death wish or something?"
"Your mates are your problem, not mine." Spike sneered, "How are you going to watch your own back while you're busy watching theirs?"
"Spike, I want to leave." Drusilla gripped his arm tightly.
"Listen to your girlfriend, Spike." Gabriel counseled, turning his own stake over in his fingers with anticipation, "You might actually survive the night."
"I already kicked your ass once tonight, punk." Spike snarled angrily, "You should be the one who's worried about survival."
"Spike, I have to leave. Now. My tummy. . ." Drusilla dragged him toward the door, her face ashen and sick looking.
"Not now, Baby." he resisted, "Can't you see Daddy's trying to start a fight?"
Drusilla gripped her arm tightly around his waist and her body tensed sharply in a violent convulsion. She retched and an incongruously large amount of dark red blood poured from her mouth, splattering onto the floor between his feet.
"Aw, damn it, Dru, I just got these shoes!" Spike cried in dismay, alternately picking his feet out of the hot blood.
The humans recoiled at the revolting sight.
"I feel better now." Drusilla choked on another small retch and burped quietly in relief.
"Well, good for you." Spike grumbled, stepping back, out of the sticky puddle, and holding her to his side.
"This isn't over." He promised, pointing a warning finger at both Gabriel and Buffy.
Buffy tilted her head toward Gabriel with a sarcastic smile, "Y'know, I think I heard him say that already."
Snarling at their flippant attitudes, Spike flashed an obscene gesture to the room and retreated through the door. Stumbling weakly alongside him, Drusilla held her stomach and groaned under her breath.
"I'M choosing the vacation spot next time." he spat angrily, his voice trailing off in the distance, "Someplace nice like San Francisco or L.A. maybe. . ."
"Well, that was rather odd . . ." Giles slipped his glasses off and scratched his head.
"Yeah. And don't forget disgusting." Xander wrinkled his nose at the pool of regurgitated blood on the floor, fascinated yet, at the same time, repulsed.
"We-we should probably go now, don't you think?" Joyce suggested, looking around nervously.
"Joyce is right. Everything looks to be taken care of here." Giles agreed, turning to Buffy and Gabriel as the rest of the group collectively made their way toward the door.
"Almost." Gabriel held the Orb of Thesulah out to Buffy, "Care to do the honors?"
"Gladly." she accepted the crystal orb and hurled it into the fireplace where it exploded in a fury of tiny shards.
"You both did an admirable job." Giles commended as he held the door for them, "I'm very proud of you."
"Yes." Joyce stopped and looked seriously at Gabriel, "This is twice now that I've seen you risk you life for Buffy. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. My impression of you was completely wrong. I hope you'll forgive me."
"Nothing to forgive." He assured her with a staying hand, "I'm just glad I could help."
Joyce smiled at Buffy then joined Giles at the head of the group, followed by Willow and Xander. Buffy and Gabriel trailed behind, gazing dreamily at one another. Gabriel wrapped a strong arm around Buffy and held her against his side as they walked. His eyes danced with pleased mischief as they held hers, sharing a new depth in the connection between them. She felt it too.
"You know, Gabriel, I was thinking." Joyce said to him without looking back, "I could probably pull some strings down at the gallery if you're looking for a job. You know, get your foot in the door. I bet you'd be a big help in acquisitions."
Gabriel smiled and tilted his head against Buffy's, feeling her silky, blonde hair on his cheek. He slowed and she slowed with him. Her sweet feminine scent tickled his nose and set his heart thumping in his chest. He looked deeply into her eyes and brushed the back of one finger slow and soft along the curve of her cheek.
"Hey, that would be cool." Xander nodded, keeping with the brisk pace, "I applied for a job at the shoe store across the street from there. We could, like, do lunch or something."
Buffy drew her fingers up the back of his neck and stroked them through his soft auburn hair. She was only vaguely aware of the conversation going on around her. All she knew was warm green eyes marked with a halo of gold, watching her with absolute care, tenderness and respect.
"And Buffy and I could visit you guys at lunchtime" Willow chirped happily, "and . . . also do."
Gabriel let his lips hover near Buffy's, gravitating gradually closer to her as if by a will of their own. Buffy closed her eyes and she breathed in slowly, drawing him forward, her mouth turned up in a confident smile. Their lips met with the warmth and beauty of a sunburst and their pulses throbbed in unified glory.
"What do you think, Gabriel?" Xander turned backwards as he walked, "We could hang out, talk a little shop and - Oh, for the love of Pete, would you two get a room!"
Buffy and Gabriel had stopped walking altogether and stood embracing in the street, lost in the midst of a deep, sweet kiss.
"Come on," Willow took Xander by the arm, "We should probably give them some time alone. They've earned it."
Did you like the story? Did you like Gabriel? Well, if Gabriel has been nominated for the Scooby Best New Character Award and the author has been nominated for the Best New Author Award. So if you think these awards are deserved 