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Willow. She had to get to Willow. Willow was powerful and smart and good at figuring out mystical problems, such as how to locate a missing soul, get it out of its jar, and stick it back where it belonged. Sure she had her own apocalypse to deal with, but all Fred needed was an hour or so. A little spell to help free her friends and the rest of Los Angeles from the ugly maggot lady’s control. It wouldn’t take long.
Willow could help her. She had lots of experience with the weird stuff. What was a little mind-control problem to the most powerful witch ever?
Fred kept the mantra running through her head the entire drive to Sunnydale. The loneliness was unbearable. The loss and the fear were clogging her brain. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think at all.
She had to get to Willow.
And if Willow couldn’t help, well, there were Slayers in Sunnydale. Two of them. All she had to do was keep them from looking at the maggot lady while they kicked her ass and…
And they’d either fall under her spell anyway, or they’d go all deformed and crazy like the guy in the hospital or something.
She really needed Willow.
Of course, she should’ve known finding Willow wouldn’t be that easy. Hellmouths weren’t supposed to be nice, helpful places, especially when they were about to blow apart like a volcano on a really bad day.
Sunnydale was dark and creepy. And incredibly deserted. In LA, you could go anywhere at any hour and see at least one other person. Fred hadn’t seen a soul since she passed the “Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign. And even if she did see someone, she couldn’t be all that sure they even had a soul.
Fred pulled the SUV to the side of the empty street, making sure to park under a streetlight. Not that it would do any good when a vampire decided she was going to be dinner, but staying in a well-lit area was standard operating procedure around evil things. Of course, sitting under the light just made it easier to see that she was alone, and that just screamed “Eat me!” to the evil things living on the mouth of hell.
She grabbed her cell phone from the pocket of her coat and tried dialing the number again, praying all the while that she wouldn’t get another busy signal.
After three rings, a female voice answered, “Summers residence.”
“I’m looking for Willow,” Fred said, her own voice shaking. “Tell her it’s Fred, from LA. I work for Angel.” Or I used to, she added silently.
In the background, she could hear several shouts coming from several other female voices. A new thought popped into Fred’s brain, causing a knot to form in her throat. What if something happened and they were too busy to help? Hell, what if she was too late and the mind-control thing that was taking over LA had already made it to Sunnydale?
“She’s not here. There was some…stuff tonight.” The hesitation on the other end was clear.
Oh no. Fred did everything she could to keep her voice from breaking. “Do you know where I can find her? It won’t take long, but I really need to see her.”
“You can probably find her at the hospital. It’s way past visiting hours now, but it’s not like there’s anybody in town to care.”
“Thanks.” Fred hung up before realizing she had no idea where the hospital was located.
And then it sunk in. Hospital? Oh God. Something had happened.
Finding the hospital in a town as small as Sunnydale proved harder than she expected. It wasn’t like there was anyone she could ask for directions. She’d seen three people as she drove through the empty streets. One was definitely a vampire, and the other two seemed to be missing their eyes.
She stopped the SUV at a curb to collect her thoughts. There was a cemetery just off to her left and another one up the road on the right. That brought her cemetery count up to ten so far. Ten cemeteries, a large number of churches, and a bunch of houses closed up tightly. Not that she blamed them. She was beginning to think staying in Los Angeles might’ve been the better plan. Sunnydale’s creepiness factor was beating LA hands down.
And that was before she heard the scream.
“Damn,” she sighed, shaking her head. The last thing she needed to do was go running off to save someone in a cemetery in a strange town in the middle of an apocalypse that she knew nothing about.
Fred stopped the car and pulled the keys from the ignition, stuffing them in her pocket as she went. Before she climbed out, she snatched the crossbow that Wesley had left in the back seat in case of emergencies. With a quick check for the stake she’d hidden safely in her coat, she took off in the direction of the scream.
When she located the source of the scream—a teenage girl taking a shortcut through the middle of a cemetery at midnight—she stopped. Someone had beaten her to the fight. In fact, the victim was currently running off in the opposite direction, while the vampire that had attacked her was in the process of being turned to dust.
By another vampire. Shaking off his game face, the vampire in question turned to look at her. Slicked back blond hair and piercing blue eyes glimmered under the light of the moon. She tried not to think of vampires as hot—in any sense—but she couldn’t help herself here. Hot was the only way she could describe him.
“Where’s…?” He sniffed at the air, scanning the cemetery for the now-vanished victim. “Right. Stupid bint deserves what she gets for running off like that,” he muttered in a thick, British accent.
When he turned his attention back to her, she aimed the crossbow at his heart. “Don’t come any closer! I will use this!”
He looked her up and down, and Fred fought to keep from blushing under the heat of his gaze. “Don’t doubt that a bit.” He chuckled warily as his eyes finally honed in on her weapon. “Don’t recognize you, love. If you’re looking for Buffy, you’re better off heading to the house. Bit dangerous out here tonight.”
Buffy? That was the other Slayer. Why was he talking about her like he knew her personally? “I know that. I’m looking for Willow.”
Pain flashed over his face for barely a second before he slipped back into his impartial mask. “Ah. Red must’ve been the one that got to you first, yeah? Buffy’s the one you should be talking to, though now’s probably not the best time.”
It was the pain seeping back onto his face as he repeated Buffy’s name that caused her to lower her weapon. “Is she all right? I mean, she isn’t hurt, is she?” Not that I know her or anything, Fred’s mental commentary added.
He shook his head. “Buffy? Nah, she’s tough, she’ll be fine. Physically, at least.”
The vampire narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. Fred found herself shivering under his stare, and raised her weapon again. “What?” she demanded, wondering all the while why she was wasting time in a cemetery having a conversation with a vampire that was probably a second away from having her for dinner.
Tilting his head, he frowned. “You look a bit old to be one of the newbies. What’s your name, pet?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He took a step toward her, but stopped as she strengthened her grip on the crossbow. Raising his hands, he backed away. “Not gonna hurt you. Just wanna know why you’re running off playing Slayer in a cemetery in the middle of the night. You’re not one of our team. There’s a bloody million of ‘em at the house, but I think I’d remember a fetching little thing like you.”
It was Fred’s turn to frown. Willow hadn’t mentioned anything about a friendly vampire. “Who are you?”
“Believe I asked the question first.” He nodded toward the end of the crossbow. “But if you’ll point that thing in a less lethal direction, I’ll give you an answer.”
She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t totally out of fear. His eyes seemed to be looking straight through her. She hated to think about the vibes she was giving off here. Way to go Fred, she thought, flirt with the strange vampire in the cemetery. With a nervous laugh, she lowered the crossbow. “Sorry. Most vampires I’ve met are evil and try to eat me. I didn’t want to take a chance. I’m Fred.”
His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Been there, done that, love. Got a bit old, so I switched sides. Makes things more interesting.” He paused, giving her a smirk that almost made her melt into a puddle of goo. “I’m Spike.”
She had this insane urge to shake his hand—a leftover from her mother’s long lectures on being polite and making a good first impression—and was grateful for the crossbow that kept her from doing it. “It’s nice to meet you. I think.”
“So, you want to tell me what you’re doing playing hero?”
“What?” She wrinkled her nose as she considered his question. Leave it to her to meet a hot vampire in the middle of a cemetery and lose all train of thought. Vampire. Right. Angel. And the creepy maggot-faced thing. “Oh! I’m from LA. We’re…we’re having a…a problem and I had hoped Willow could help.”
“And you decided to drive all the way here rather than picking up the phone?”
“Well, that would mean staying in LA and having one of my friends try to kill me. They kinda think I’ve gone evil.”
His eyebrow shot up at that. “Evil, huh? Beginning to think I switched sides at the wrong time.”
“I’m not evil. They are.” She stopped and shook her head. “Well, actually, they’re not really evil. I mean, Angel was for a little while there, but we, or Willow really, put his soul back, but then Cordelia gave birth to an evil maggot-faced demon spawn and now they’re all possessed and thinking she’s the most wonderful thing they’ve ever seen.”
Spike scoffed. “Angel never did have any taste in women. Except for Buffy, of course. Now Darla, there was a real bitch.”
That same pained look flashed across his face again as he mentioned Buffy’s name. Fred was beginning to get the idea that he had feelings for her. “You know Angel?”
“Rather wish I didn’t,” he growled. “Still haven't explained why you’re out here rather than at the hospital hunting Red down.”
She blushed again. “I heard the scream and I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”
“And getting killed by a vamp in Sunnydale is a better option than facing your demon in LA?”
“I do know how to kill a vampire, you know,” she said, glaring at him. But her anger deflated quickly and she let her now forgotten weapon drop to her side. “And she’s not a demon. She’s a god or a Power That Is or Was, or something like that.”
“Right. Fighting a god always ends well.” His expression softened as he saw her dejection. “Why don’t you let me take you back to your car and you can tell me about it? Maybe that’ll help?”
That sealed it. Sunnydale was an even stranger place than LA. Fred was pretty positive that in LA, she wouldn’t be letting a vampire she’d known for barely five minutes walk her to her car. And she was completely sure that she wouldn’t be enjoying his company like she was.
She looked at Spike out of the corner of her eye. He was walking in step with her so casually that it almost seemed like they were two friends on a late night stroll. His hands were stuffed deeply in the pockets of his leather coat and his eyes just seemed to be taking in the scenery. It was nice, but still sort of creepy. “So why are you being so friendly? If you’re just trying to get me to let my guard down, it won’t work. I’ve still got the weapon.”
He laughed out loud and shook his head. It was a genuine laugh coupled with a genuine smile and once again, Fred couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was. Not that she was attracted to vampires or anything. Except she kind of was attracted to this one. In a purely physical, “he’s really gorgeous and doesn’t worship the evil Power that Was” kind of way.
“Told you, love, I’m not out to hurt you. Sunnydale’s a dangerous place right now. Just want to keep you safe so Red doesn’t kick my ass.”
She smiled. “You’re different.” The smile on his face faded into a blank, guarded expression. “No! Not like that. I mean it in a good way. Okay, so yeah, it’s still a little creepy, but I think that just comes with being on a Hellmouth, but you’re easy to talk to. And it’s nice to have someone to talk to, because the talking to myself thing was getting old, even for me.”
He relaxed again. “So tell me about this Power whatsit that’s after you. Why’s it affecting the Great Poof and his band of not-so-merry men and not you?”
They reached the gate of the cemetery and Fred sighed in relief. Her SUV was still sitting there in one piece and was not inhabited by vampires. She patted her pocket to make sure her keys were still there, but didn’t pull them out.
”That’s what I was hoping Willow could tell me.”
He tilted his head as he regarded her. “Something happen?”
She thought back over the last day. When had it changed? She’d followed the gang to the fight at the bowling alley and then back to the hotel where she’d tried to clean the blood off their new leader’s shirt.
She jumped as the revelation hit her. “Her shirt!”
“Okay, now you lost me, love.”
It had all gone wrong when she was cleaning her shirt. One minute she had been filled with love and the next it was gone. “Sorry. She was hurt and I felt so bad about it. Like I should’ve tried harder to protect her, but I didn’t. So the least I could do was get the blood off her shirt. I tried everything, but I couldn’t get it off.” She looked down at her hands, which were still red and chapped from all the scrubbing. “I think I took a few layers of my own skin off in the process. That’s when it changed. I started crying and crying and I couldn’t stop. So I bought her a new shirt, which should’ve made me happier, but it didn’t.”
They came to a stop beside her SUV and Fred rested her crossbow on the hood. The despair and loss flooded her senses again and she leaned her back against the vehicle for support. Fighting another round of tears, she turned her head away so he wouldn’t see.
“Hey now,” he said, his voice soft and strangely gentle. “Don’t go doing that.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sorry. I can’t help myself really. You just don’t know what it feels like to lose something like that. When someone that means that much is suddenly gone. When everyone is gone…”
He touched her cheek with his palm, caressing her skin tenderly as he brought her eyes back to meet his. “Understand it more than you know, kitten. We’ll figure it out for you. Get the Poof back so he can go galloping off to save the day.”
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
He grinned. “Now what gives you that idea?”
She put her hand over his and removed it from her cheek. They stood there like that for a moment, hands and eyes linked, remaining completely still.
And then Fred remembered what she was doing and blushed again. The moment broken, she dropped his hand quickly and dipped her head, trying to hide her sudden embarrassment.
“I-I’m sorry. I…”
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “It’s all right. I know what it’s like being alone. You’re not hurting anything here. Now lets go over your problem. You say her control over you broke when you were washing her shirt?”
She took a deep breath to compose herself before answering. His presence was intense—nerve-wracking and calming all at the same time. It was overwhelming, feeling him so close, and yet she didn’t want him to go away. No one had made her feel this safe since Angel, when he rescued her from Pylea. She made a mental note to look Spike up again when all the apocalypses were over.
“I was cleaning the blood off it,” she said, glancing down at her hands again.
She sucked in a breath as Spike took her hands. The slight chill of his skin as it touched hers felt nice. Soothing. Raising them slightly, he turned her hands over in his own, examining each finger carefully.
“You’ve cut yourself,” he noted, fingering a small red slice on the tip of her index finger.
She squinted at the finger he indicated. “Yeah, it probably happened while I was obsessing over the blood.”
With a sudden snort, he dropped her hands and took a step back. “Well, there’s your answer.”
She lifted her palms to the light, her brow creasing as she examined them. “My answer? What’s the answer?”
“The blood. Hers. Yours. Mixing together. It’s always the blood.”
“How do you know?” she asked, as her mind began to draw the same conclusion.
“Vampire, here.”
“Oh. Right.”
And then it all hit her. Somehow the guy from the hospital must’ve come in contact with her blood when the vampire attacked. She’d been so obsessed with the maggot lady’s blood herself that she barely noticed when she cut her finger and their blood mixed. Her obsession with fixing the shirt hid the sudden loss. And it was only when Fred looked at her and saw the rotting, bug-infested face that she knew something had happened.
She knew what she had to do. She had to mix their blood. That would get them back. Angel would be the easiest, and then he could help with the rest. She looked back at Spike, her face lighting up with renewed hope.
“Figure it out, then?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
“I’ve got to hurt Angel somehow. Get her blood to mix with his. Vampires are all about the blood, so that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Sounds like fun, actually.”
She glared at him playfully and laughed. “Thank you, Spike. You may have saved our lives.”
“You, I can live with. Angel? Would rather see him rot.”
She touched his cheek, tracing the line of his cheekbone with her fingertips. “I mean it. Thank you.”
“Didn’t do much.” His voice was quiet, almost self-conscious.
“You listened to me.”
“Always willing to help out a lovely lady like yourself.”
Fred was sure the temperature of her skin shot up ten degrees every time he looked at her or complimented her. “Now I just hope I can get them back.”
He covered her hand with his. “Strong little spitfire like yourself? If you can run around Sunnyhell chasing after vamps with nothing but a half-empty crossbow, you’ll do just fine.”
“What if it goes wrong?”
“Got a sharp brain up there in that cute little noggin of yours. Not to mention nerves made of bloody steel. You’ll get the Poofter back with no problem.”
Before she realized what she was doing, she leaned in and kissed him. His obvious surprise delayed his reaction, but he soon gave in and opened his mouth to hers. His lips were cool, but soft and surprisingly gentle. And the kiss was one of the best she’d ever experienced.
Unfortunately it didn’t last nearly long enough. She had to get back to LA, and he had to go and do whatever he’d been doing before she interrupted him.
“Wow. Sorry. I’m not usually like that. I don’t usually go around kissing every man that helps me out,” she babbled nervously as she broke the kiss.
He smiled at her. “Not like I minded, love.”
She dug in her pocket until she pulled out her keys. “I’m glad I ran into you. When this is all over, can I see you again?”
His hand made its way to her face again, fingers lingering on her lips. “I’d like that.”