The Arcane
Scooby
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2005
- Messages
- 1,686
Okay, this isn't exactly fanfic because I'm actually hoping to get this published, in one form or another, but I could seriously use a little feedback on my work so far. This is currently only the second draft of chapter one so expect some typos and grammar issues. By the way, if you do see any then feel free to point them out. I want this to be as accurate as possible if I ever do send it off to try get it published.
With that in mind, here goes. Hope you like!
**********************************************************
The Forgotten One
Chapter 1: Reunion
Athenia stood silently, staring down at the mass of stone and rubble in front of her, pondering her situation. It really was not supposed to be this difficult. Events had been in motion for hundreds of years already and she had prepared well. She had been meticulous in arranging every detail of what she had wanted to happen. She had honestly believed that nothing could possibly go wrong.
Of course, you cannot really plan around an entire town being pulled down into an open Hellmouth. That kind of thing comes a little out of the blue, generally speaking.
Normally she would not have remotely cared about hearing a news report covering the sudden and unexplained destruction of a small Californian town, but on this occasion she had reason to take notice. Whilst she cared nothing for the town itself, Athenia was aware that a certain artefact that she required had been taken there. Apparently, according to a source she had once tortured for information, a human had required the item in order to aid in his own ascension to a higher demon form. The human in question, a Richard Wilkins III, had been the founder and Mayor of this former town of which Athenia now stood amongst the broken ruins, and had brought the artefact here, decades ago, as part of his own nefarious schemes. From what Athenia had been able to discover, Wilkins' plan had not gone exactly as he had hoped, due to the meddling of a vampire slayer and her allies, and the Mayor of Sunnydale had come to a rather undignified end, only a few years before the town itself had followed suit.
None of that was of any interest to Athenia, however. Upon hearing of the death of Wilkins, she had believed that the artefact would be safest exactly where it was, locked away both physically and magically at the home of the late Mayor, until the time came when she would need to acquire it. She had even gone to the trouble of sending several of her own minions to Sunnydale in order to keep a careful eye on the item. Not that they were of much use as the ground began to open up underneath their feet and they were buried under several tons of Sunnydale estate. Not that she cared about the loss of her people. All Athenia cared about was recovering the artefact from the ruins of Sunnydale so that her own agenda could proceed without any further difficulties. In fact, this is all she had cared about for as long as she could remember, which was a very long time indeed. Her plan had to be successful. That was the only way she would ever be able to prove her worth.
To that end, Athenia had travelled to what was left of Sunnydale, bringing with her a small army of her demon and vampire minions, as well as a number of magically inclined humans that had chosen to serve her, in order to recover what was rightfully hers. The witches and warlocks at her command were using their abilities to focus in on the artefact, to try to narrow down the search. Unfortunately, the remaining energies from the Hellmouth were making pinpointing an exact location almost impossible, which meant that this was taking a lot longer than Athenia desired. Her followers were working day and night, digging down into the debris, which for the vampires among them was proving highly dangerous. In fact, several had already been accidentally exposed to the harsh sunlight and gone up in flames. Acceptable losses, according to Athenia, especially as she knew they were getting closer and closer to her goal. Soon the artefact would be hers and she would be able to finally put into action a plan that had been centuries in the making. Only then would Athenia be given the respect that she so fervently desired.
Soon the Old Ones would walk again.
* * *
"˜Bollocks.'
That was the first thought to enter Spike's mind as consciousness gradually returned to him. A light on the wall directly in front of his face blurred his vision, causing him to squint. He raised a hand in order to shade his eyes and avoid the annoying glare. As he started to regain focus it occurred to him for the first time that he was still alive. Well, not alive so much as not a big pile of dust and this for a vampire was always a plus. The pain in his head and the aching in his bones confirmed that he was still amongst the semi-living at least. The question then became how this could be possible. Taking into account the most recent events that he was actually able to recall before waking up, and given the overwhelming hordes of evil he vividly remembered charging towards him not so long ago, he was well aware that by all rights he should currently be even deader than he normally was.
Having said that, there was very little normal about Spike in the first place. To begin with there was the very fact that he was a vampire, over one hundred and twenty years old. In the early days of his vampire existence he had been known as William the Bloody but he had earned his current name thanks to a rather unsavoury fondness for torturing his victims with railroad spikes, just prior to killing them, of course. Even by vampire standards, Spike had excelled at the art of being evil.
Then there was the additional fact that he had fallen in love with a vampire slayer. The one being in the entire world that a vampire is actually supposed to fear and do all that they can to avoid and this was the girl that Spike had chosen to fall in love with. Stranger still when you take into account that Spike was infamous in Watcher's Council circles thanks to his reputation for having previously killed two slayers. The first had been in China, during the Boxer Rebellion and the second in New York during the 1970's. Life can be funny that way.
However, no matter how strange that might have been, it was still not the most unusual thing about him. Not by a long shot. Spike, despite being a vampire, had a human soul. More importantly, he had actually fought for that soul to be restored for the love of the slayer. For the love of one Buffy Summers. Over the previous few years he had stood by her side against countless evil entities, many of those even before he had reclaimed the essence of his humanity, to attempt to win her love. When that did not prove enough for Buffy to accept him into her heart, Spike sought out a powerful demon that he knew had the ability to restore his soul to him. The demon indeed was able to do so, but only after Spike had undertaken a series of painful and agonising trials. Once restored, Spike's soul had proven to be an incredible burden to him, almost pushing him over the edge of sanity due to the sudden and intense guilt of all the indescribable acts of evil he had carried out since becoming a vampire. With the help of Buffy, Spike had eventually been able to deal with what he had done and, in time, became a valuable ally of the slayer. More importantly, he was even able to achieve the one thing he had wanted for so very long. Buffy actually cared for him. Unfortunately for Spike, he was not given the opportunity to pursue these feelings as soon after their relationship began to turn into the romance he had hoped for, he was forced to make a choice that would again separate him from the woman he loved. During an apocalyptic battle inside the Sunnydale Hellmouth, Spike willingly sacrificed his own existence to save the world from the domination of the First, the living embodiment of ultimate evil. In the process the Hellmouth was closed, seemingly for good, and the town of Sunnydale was reduced to rubble. Admittedly, the sacrifice that Spike made was to be short lived as fate had much more in store for him, but the selfless act of laying down his life to save the world was enough to prove his worth as a true champion for the forces of light.
Being left to rest in peace was never an option for Spike however as the manner of his destruction had made him a pawn in the machinations of Lindsey MacDonald, a long time adversary of Angel, the only other vampire with a soul to walk the earth and also, as fate would have it, Spike's grandsire. That, for those unaware of the technicalities of vampire lineage, would make Angel the vamp that sired the vamp that later sired Spike. For various reasons the two had not seen eye to eye for a very long time, the most recent problem Spike had with his former mentor being the fact that Angel also happened to be in love with Buffy Summers, and more importantly Spike knew that Buffy loved Angel too. Without question, Angel was not really somebody that Spike had wanted to spend a lot of time around and the feeling was certainly mutual but unfortunately for both of them, circumstances after his resurrection had forced the two ensouled vamps to work together, whether they liked it or not. Over time, they had managed to settle at least some of their numerous differences. Okay, it had taken months and at least one occasion of them battering each other to a bloody pulp, but eventually they had managed to reach a point where they could tolerate the sight of each other if it meant they could work together for the greater good.
During that time, Spike had also started to get to know the various members of Angel's team. An eclectic group, to say the least. There was Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, a former Watcher. Charles Gunn, a street level demon hunter. Winifred "˜Fred' Burkle, the team brain and Lorne, a green skinned anagogic demon who had the ability to read the auras and emotions of people whilst they sang to him, allowing him to help them find their true paths in life. A strange bunch of people, to be sure, but Spike had come to know them all quite well and recognised that despite everything else they were all true heroes and, whether he admitted it to anyone else or not, he greatly respected each and every one of them.
That was the reason why, when Angel had asked Spike to be a part of taking down the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, the evil, demonic law firm that they had all been working for during the past year in order to try and destroy the corrupt organisation from within, he had agreed without question. Plans were made and alongside Angel and the rest of the ragtag team, Spike had played his part in killing the various members of the Circle of the Black Thorn, extremely powerful demons who were responsible for arranging the Senior Partners affairs in the human world. He, like the rest of the team, knew that the Senior Partners would respond with no mercy, throwing the full force of their power at them in revenge and he had been prepared to pay the price of his actions. He had stood bravely alongside the last few surviving members of the team in a rain soaked alleyway, as the hordes of Wolfram and Hart bore down upon them and readied himself for what he imagined was to be the final battle of his life. The demons attacked and, allowing his true vampiric visage to show, he had begun to fight. Blow after blow, demon after demon, Spike had fought like he had never fought before. Lashing out in all directions, as an army of unspeakable evil and unimaginable number attacked. Killing anything and everything that had dared get in his way. Watching as his comrades heroically stood their ground against obviously unbeatable odds.
Then, a sharp pain to the back of his head and as the sweet embrace of eternal darkness followed he had accepted that his time was done.
Apparently, however, that had not been the case and again it seemed that fate was not going to let him rest so easily. As he began to come further to his senses, he realised that he was on the sofa in his own apartment. The continuing and intensifying pain at the back of his head was still all the evidence he needed to prove that he had somehow survived the alley but it was not offering any more answers than that. Spike sat up and looked around, suddenly realising that he was not alone and, more importantly, that he had not been the sole survivor of the alley that night.
"˜Illyria?'
"˜So you are finally awake. You have been unconscious for over twelve hours. I had begun to believe that you were permanently damaged,' the blue skinned, former Old One replied. Whilst still somehow managing to maintain the usual level of disdain for all those around her, it was very clear to Spike that she was shaken. The cuts and bruises that adorned her face and body were only the physical signs of the trauma she has clearly suffered in the battle. Illyria had once been a true, pure demon of immense power, killed countless centuries ago and laid to rest in the Deeper Well. Only recently had she returned to life but the means of that return had forced her to take on a human form. That form just happened to be the body of someone Spike had cared for a great deal; Winifred Burkle. The essence of Illyria had entered Fred and set about hollowing the body out, burning away all the internal organs and hardening the skin so that the shell was better able to contain the energies that the ancient demon commanded, killing Fred in the process and returning Illyria to the world. A world now controlled by humankind. A world she no longer recognised or understood. The events of the previous weeks had forced an unlikely alliance between her and the friends of the woman she had killed to return to life but that alliance was based upon necessity rather than trust and Spike knew that Illyria was just as likely to kill him herself rather than save him, if it ever served her purpose.
Unfortunately, at least for Illyria, she now no longer possessed the power or strength that had once been hers to command. The shell she now existed in had been unable to contain her energies fully and had started to break down, forcing her to accept the help of Angel's team and to allow Wesley to drain her power sufficiently so that her new form could survive. Even now, she was still becoming accustomed to what that meant and just how limited and frail her new physical form really was, compared to what she had once known. In fact, she was still more powerful than a coach load of steroid enhanced body builders but, for Illyria, this was a major reduction in stature. A reduction that she still had not truly come to terms with or been willing to accept, which was no doubt the reason for her current emotional and physical state.
"˜The others?' Spike asked, praying that he did not already know the answer and that Angel and Gunn had also somehow survived.
"˜Gunn is dead,' came the cold, abrupt reply, ending what little hope Spike still had for the welfare of his friend and ally. "˜He fell soon after the battle began. The wounds he had already suffered were severe and he did not have the strength to last very long.' Surprisingly to Spike, it almost appeared that Illyria had a look of regret on her face as she spoke of Gunn's death. Charles Gunn had been a long time friend, not to mention former lover of Fred. Spike was already well aware that Illyria had somehow retained the memories of her host body; to the extent that she had been able to take on Fred's true appearance, voice and mannerisms and successfully fool Fred's parents into believing that she was still alive and well. Could it be that those same stolen memories were somehow now making Illyria actually care for the "insignificant beings" around her? She had already become attached to Wesley in recent weeks and it was perhaps no coincidence that Fred and Wes had only recently started a relationship together, a matter of days before Fred had died. Wesley's own death at the hands of Cyvus Vail the night before had clearly affected Illyria. Now she seemed to regret losing Gunn? Maybe there really was hope for her after all.
"˜And Angel? Did he survive?'
"˜Unknown. I lost sight of both of you during the skirmish. I was surprised to discover that you had made it out of there alive yourself, to be truthful. Vampires are so weak and you break so easily that it makes me wonder how you survive against even the weakest of true demons.'
"˜We do just fine, love. Thanks for the concern.' Spike retorted, quick to defend both his species and his own abilities at the same time. He briefly considered reminding Illyria that it was not all that long ago that she had been found, bloody, beaten and unconscious, after having her ass firmly handed to her by Marcus Hamilton, former liaison to the Senior Partners. Almost on the very spot she currently stood, in fact. Before he could get the words out though, something more important suddenly occurred to him. "˜Wait a sec! If it wasn't Angel or you that saved me, then who was it?'
"˜That would be me,' came the reply from behind him, as the door to his apartment opened up. Even before Spike turned to look, he recognised the cheery voice of an old friend.
"˜Well, well. Long time, no see, Red,' Spike said as she entered the room. "˜So I've got you to thank for me still being in one piece then, have I?'
"˜Think nothing of it,' answered Willow, closing the door behind her. "˜You're very welcome!'
**********************************************************
That's all I've got for now. Chapters two and three are plotted out but yet to be written. I'll post them up here as soon as I can.
Any feedback would be welcome, good or bad. 🙂
With that in mind, here goes. Hope you like!
**********************************************************
The Forgotten One
Chapter 1: Reunion
Athenia stood silently, staring down at the mass of stone and rubble in front of her, pondering her situation. It really was not supposed to be this difficult. Events had been in motion for hundreds of years already and she had prepared well. She had been meticulous in arranging every detail of what she had wanted to happen. She had honestly believed that nothing could possibly go wrong.
Of course, you cannot really plan around an entire town being pulled down into an open Hellmouth. That kind of thing comes a little out of the blue, generally speaking.
Normally she would not have remotely cared about hearing a news report covering the sudden and unexplained destruction of a small Californian town, but on this occasion she had reason to take notice. Whilst she cared nothing for the town itself, Athenia was aware that a certain artefact that she required had been taken there. Apparently, according to a source she had once tortured for information, a human had required the item in order to aid in his own ascension to a higher demon form. The human in question, a Richard Wilkins III, had been the founder and Mayor of this former town of which Athenia now stood amongst the broken ruins, and had brought the artefact here, decades ago, as part of his own nefarious schemes. From what Athenia had been able to discover, Wilkins' plan had not gone exactly as he had hoped, due to the meddling of a vampire slayer and her allies, and the Mayor of Sunnydale had come to a rather undignified end, only a few years before the town itself had followed suit.
None of that was of any interest to Athenia, however. Upon hearing of the death of Wilkins, she had believed that the artefact would be safest exactly where it was, locked away both physically and magically at the home of the late Mayor, until the time came when she would need to acquire it. She had even gone to the trouble of sending several of her own minions to Sunnydale in order to keep a careful eye on the item. Not that they were of much use as the ground began to open up underneath their feet and they were buried under several tons of Sunnydale estate. Not that she cared about the loss of her people. All Athenia cared about was recovering the artefact from the ruins of Sunnydale so that her own agenda could proceed without any further difficulties. In fact, this is all she had cared about for as long as she could remember, which was a very long time indeed. Her plan had to be successful. That was the only way she would ever be able to prove her worth.
To that end, Athenia had travelled to what was left of Sunnydale, bringing with her a small army of her demon and vampire minions, as well as a number of magically inclined humans that had chosen to serve her, in order to recover what was rightfully hers. The witches and warlocks at her command were using their abilities to focus in on the artefact, to try to narrow down the search. Unfortunately, the remaining energies from the Hellmouth were making pinpointing an exact location almost impossible, which meant that this was taking a lot longer than Athenia desired. Her followers were working day and night, digging down into the debris, which for the vampires among them was proving highly dangerous. In fact, several had already been accidentally exposed to the harsh sunlight and gone up in flames. Acceptable losses, according to Athenia, especially as she knew they were getting closer and closer to her goal. Soon the artefact would be hers and she would be able to finally put into action a plan that had been centuries in the making. Only then would Athenia be given the respect that she so fervently desired.
Soon the Old Ones would walk again.
* * *
"˜Bollocks.'
That was the first thought to enter Spike's mind as consciousness gradually returned to him. A light on the wall directly in front of his face blurred his vision, causing him to squint. He raised a hand in order to shade his eyes and avoid the annoying glare. As he started to regain focus it occurred to him for the first time that he was still alive. Well, not alive so much as not a big pile of dust and this for a vampire was always a plus. The pain in his head and the aching in his bones confirmed that he was still amongst the semi-living at least. The question then became how this could be possible. Taking into account the most recent events that he was actually able to recall before waking up, and given the overwhelming hordes of evil he vividly remembered charging towards him not so long ago, he was well aware that by all rights he should currently be even deader than he normally was.
Having said that, there was very little normal about Spike in the first place. To begin with there was the very fact that he was a vampire, over one hundred and twenty years old. In the early days of his vampire existence he had been known as William the Bloody but he had earned his current name thanks to a rather unsavoury fondness for torturing his victims with railroad spikes, just prior to killing them, of course. Even by vampire standards, Spike had excelled at the art of being evil.
Then there was the additional fact that he had fallen in love with a vampire slayer. The one being in the entire world that a vampire is actually supposed to fear and do all that they can to avoid and this was the girl that Spike had chosen to fall in love with. Stranger still when you take into account that Spike was infamous in Watcher's Council circles thanks to his reputation for having previously killed two slayers. The first had been in China, during the Boxer Rebellion and the second in New York during the 1970's. Life can be funny that way.
However, no matter how strange that might have been, it was still not the most unusual thing about him. Not by a long shot. Spike, despite being a vampire, had a human soul. More importantly, he had actually fought for that soul to be restored for the love of the slayer. For the love of one Buffy Summers. Over the previous few years he had stood by her side against countless evil entities, many of those even before he had reclaimed the essence of his humanity, to attempt to win her love. When that did not prove enough for Buffy to accept him into her heart, Spike sought out a powerful demon that he knew had the ability to restore his soul to him. The demon indeed was able to do so, but only after Spike had undertaken a series of painful and agonising trials. Once restored, Spike's soul had proven to be an incredible burden to him, almost pushing him over the edge of sanity due to the sudden and intense guilt of all the indescribable acts of evil he had carried out since becoming a vampire. With the help of Buffy, Spike had eventually been able to deal with what he had done and, in time, became a valuable ally of the slayer. More importantly, he was even able to achieve the one thing he had wanted for so very long. Buffy actually cared for him. Unfortunately for Spike, he was not given the opportunity to pursue these feelings as soon after their relationship began to turn into the romance he had hoped for, he was forced to make a choice that would again separate him from the woman he loved. During an apocalyptic battle inside the Sunnydale Hellmouth, Spike willingly sacrificed his own existence to save the world from the domination of the First, the living embodiment of ultimate evil. In the process the Hellmouth was closed, seemingly for good, and the town of Sunnydale was reduced to rubble. Admittedly, the sacrifice that Spike made was to be short lived as fate had much more in store for him, but the selfless act of laying down his life to save the world was enough to prove his worth as a true champion for the forces of light.
Being left to rest in peace was never an option for Spike however as the manner of his destruction had made him a pawn in the machinations of Lindsey MacDonald, a long time adversary of Angel, the only other vampire with a soul to walk the earth and also, as fate would have it, Spike's grandsire. That, for those unaware of the technicalities of vampire lineage, would make Angel the vamp that sired the vamp that later sired Spike. For various reasons the two had not seen eye to eye for a very long time, the most recent problem Spike had with his former mentor being the fact that Angel also happened to be in love with Buffy Summers, and more importantly Spike knew that Buffy loved Angel too. Without question, Angel was not really somebody that Spike had wanted to spend a lot of time around and the feeling was certainly mutual but unfortunately for both of them, circumstances after his resurrection had forced the two ensouled vamps to work together, whether they liked it or not. Over time, they had managed to settle at least some of their numerous differences. Okay, it had taken months and at least one occasion of them battering each other to a bloody pulp, but eventually they had managed to reach a point where they could tolerate the sight of each other if it meant they could work together for the greater good.
During that time, Spike had also started to get to know the various members of Angel's team. An eclectic group, to say the least. There was Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, a former Watcher. Charles Gunn, a street level demon hunter. Winifred "˜Fred' Burkle, the team brain and Lorne, a green skinned anagogic demon who had the ability to read the auras and emotions of people whilst they sang to him, allowing him to help them find their true paths in life. A strange bunch of people, to be sure, but Spike had come to know them all quite well and recognised that despite everything else they were all true heroes and, whether he admitted it to anyone else or not, he greatly respected each and every one of them.
That was the reason why, when Angel had asked Spike to be a part of taking down the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, the evil, demonic law firm that they had all been working for during the past year in order to try and destroy the corrupt organisation from within, he had agreed without question. Plans were made and alongside Angel and the rest of the ragtag team, Spike had played his part in killing the various members of the Circle of the Black Thorn, extremely powerful demons who were responsible for arranging the Senior Partners affairs in the human world. He, like the rest of the team, knew that the Senior Partners would respond with no mercy, throwing the full force of their power at them in revenge and he had been prepared to pay the price of his actions. He had stood bravely alongside the last few surviving members of the team in a rain soaked alleyway, as the hordes of Wolfram and Hart bore down upon them and readied himself for what he imagined was to be the final battle of his life. The demons attacked and, allowing his true vampiric visage to show, he had begun to fight. Blow after blow, demon after demon, Spike had fought like he had never fought before. Lashing out in all directions, as an army of unspeakable evil and unimaginable number attacked. Killing anything and everything that had dared get in his way. Watching as his comrades heroically stood their ground against obviously unbeatable odds.
Then, a sharp pain to the back of his head and as the sweet embrace of eternal darkness followed he had accepted that his time was done.
Apparently, however, that had not been the case and again it seemed that fate was not going to let him rest so easily. As he began to come further to his senses, he realised that he was on the sofa in his own apartment. The continuing and intensifying pain at the back of his head was still all the evidence he needed to prove that he had somehow survived the alley but it was not offering any more answers than that. Spike sat up and looked around, suddenly realising that he was not alone and, more importantly, that he had not been the sole survivor of the alley that night.
"˜Illyria?'
"˜So you are finally awake. You have been unconscious for over twelve hours. I had begun to believe that you were permanently damaged,' the blue skinned, former Old One replied. Whilst still somehow managing to maintain the usual level of disdain for all those around her, it was very clear to Spike that she was shaken. The cuts and bruises that adorned her face and body were only the physical signs of the trauma she has clearly suffered in the battle. Illyria had once been a true, pure demon of immense power, killed countless centuries ago and laid to rest in the Deeper Well. Only recently had she returned to life but the means of that return had forced her to take on a human form. That form just happened to be the body of someone Spike had cared for a great deal; Winifred Burkle. The essence of Illyria had entered Fred and set about hollowing the body out, burning away all the internal organs and hardening the skin so that the shell was better able to contain the energies that the ancient demon commanded, killing Fred in the process and returning Illyria to the world. A world now controlled by humankind. A world she no longer recognised or understood. The events of the previous weeks had forced an unlikely alliance between her and the friends of the woman she had killed to return to life but that alliance was based upon necessity rather than trust and Spike knew that Illyria was just as likely to kill him herself rather than save him, if it ever served her purpose.
Unfortunately, at least for Illyria, she now no longer possessed the power or strength that had once been hers to command. The shell she now existed in had been unable to contain her energies fully and had started to break down, forcing her to accept the help of Angel's team and to allow Wesley to drain her power sufficiently so that her new form could survive. Even now, she was still becoming accustomed to what that meant and just how limited and frail her new physical form really was, compared to what she had once known. In fact, she was still more powerful than a coach load of steroid enhanced body builders but, for Illyria, this was a major reduction in stature. A reduction that she still had not truly come to terms with or been willing to accept, which was no doubt the reason for her current emotional and physical state.
"˜The others?' Spike asked, praying that he did not already know the answer and that Angel and Gunn had also somehow survived.
"˜Gunn is dead,' came the cold, abrupt reply, ending what little hope Spike still had for the welfare of his friend and ally. "˜He fell soon after the battle began. The wounds he had already suffered were severe and he did not have the strength to last very long.' Surprisingly to Spike, it almost appeared that Illyria had a look of regret on her face as she spoke of Gunn's death. Charles Gunn had been a long time friend, not to mention former lover of Fred. Spike was already well aware that Illyria had somehow retained the memories of her host body; to the extent that she had been able to take on Fred's true appearance, voice and mannerisms and successfully fool Fred's parents into believing that she was still alive and well. Could it be that those same stolen memories were somehow now making Illyria actually care for the "insignificant beings" around her? She had already become attached to Wesley in recent weeks and it was perhaps no coincidence that Fred and Wes had only recently started a relationship together, a matter of days before Fred had died. Wesley's own death at the hands of Cyvus Vail the night before had clearly affected Illyria. Now she seemed to regret losing Gunn? Maybe there really was hope for her after all.
"˜And Angel? Did he survive?'
"˜Unknown. I lost sight of both of you during the skirmish. I was surprised to discover that you had made it out of there alive yourself, to be truthful. Vampires are so weak and you break so easily that it makes me wonder how you survive against even the weakest of true demons.'
"˜We do just fine, love. Thanks for the concern.' Spike retorted, quick to defend both his species and his own abilities at the same time. He briefly considered reminding Illyria that it was not all that long ago that she had been found, bloody, beaten and unconscious, after having her ass firmly handed to her by Marcus Hamilton, former liaison to the Senior Partners. Almost on the very spot she currently stood, in fact. Before he could get the words out though, something more important suddenly occurred to him. "˜Wait a sec! If it wasn't Angel or you that saved me, then who was it?'
"˜That would be me,' came the reply from behind him, as the door to his apartment opened up. Even before Spike turned to look, he recognised the cheery voice of an old friend.
"˜Well, well. Long time, no see, Red,' Spike said as she entered the room. "˜So I've got you to thank for me still being in one piece then, have I?'
"˜Think nothing of it,' answered Willow, closing the door behind her. "˜You're very welcome!'
**********************************************************
That's all I've got for now. Chapters two and three are plotted out but yet to be written. I'll post them up here as soon as I can.
Any feedback would be welcome, good or bad. 🙂
