Karma
by Redwulf
Chapter Five
Spike stepped out of the cab without a backward glance, the siren's song of his own death playing like an Irish bagpipe in his ears. Tears filled his eyes as he walked towards the French restaurant that was the home of the Masters of the Order of Desaad. His shoulder hit the hidden door just inside the restaurant with bruising force as he attacked. Sword in either hand, he quietly apologized to Ares for taking the cowards way out.
He had come here to die, but six fledges were dust in the first seconds of the battle.
In south Greece, Ares heard his name and awakened with a heated rush, nearly knocking Freyya, his lover, from the bed. The Greek wasn't known for his even temper and he was blindingly angry in seconds. His summons to The Guardian, Nikki Woods, was instantaneous and it took only seconds longer to send in the second warrior, Buffy Summers. He hadn't expected resistance from Artemis and Athena, but his two sisters added their help as well. It surprised him, as did the impromptu meeting in his bedroom. Freya, along with Sif and six Valkyrie, the eight women already lending Spike unwanted strength to fight the battle ahead. All the time cursing and planning retribution on his 'son', Ares found himself silently agreeing that the "encase Spike in concrete and feed him through a straw for a few years" torture was an excellent idea.
William the Bloody cursed as he felt his strength and endurance levels leap to almost unknown highs. He had been caught and he knew it. So when Nikki Woods appeared beside him, armed to the teeth. She was killing Desaads like it was a vendetta and explaining in detail exactly how dead she was going to kill him. He shrugged and found himself blushing like a school boy, but when his other helper appeared he nearly fell out. There she was; a vision in black leather and chain mail, Athena's sword of Justice in her hand. His golden princess was here.
One minute Buffy Summers was arguing idly in her hall with Dawnie, the next she was in a dark room garbed in oh so not in fashion Xena wear and holding her new favorite sword. It was perfect. The balance was to die for, and the length was just right. She smiled at it for a second before looking up and seeing her hottie, that asshole Spike. She did love him, didn't she? She was so going to kick his over cocky ass! Ya know…when they killed all of these vampires.
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Dawn Summers watched her sister disappear and smirked knowingly to herself. It had begun. What had started in an alleyway in the far future was now going to bear fruition. She and Andrew had found the spell Loki's people had used to try to force her sister to choose Loki's champion over her true love, and the two had been set to break it when attacked. The pair of Mages had fought valiantly, but in the end they had died. And in death they had been offered a choice. To enter heaven then, knowing what had been done, or to travel back and save time itself. In the end, it really hadn't been a choice at all.
Dawn found it hilarious that the spirit of her older sister didn't realize that she, the younger Summers, was fourteen instead of only ten years old.
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Buffy was barely breathing hard when the last vamp in her range was dusty. As she turned, she realized that Spike had the last one in the place backed into a corner and was taking him apart. Her vamp was death on legs. Okay, sex on legs with a side order of evil vampire death. She crossed the floor quickly, barely noticing her dream lover having dusted the way old, freaky looking vampire as she got ready for the dramatic conclusion of her dream.
"Spike?" she breathed huskily as he turned to look at her. "I love you."
Spike smiled sadly before saying, "No, you don't, love, but thanks for saying it."
Without further thought, Buffy crossed the rest of the distance with a snarl leading her way with her right fist. Only milliseconds before her fist connected with his so needs to be broken nose there was a flash of light and she was stumbling across the hall back on Revello with her new sword still in her left hand.
Brat faced Dawnie broke into gales of laughter before snorting "freak!" and closing her door.
Buffy quickly retreated into her own room before looking over her clothes. *Oh… my…God?* Buffy thought, looking in the mirror. She was a freak. A freak in thigh high patent leather boots with stiletto heels. All she was wearing under the see-through chain mail was a matching leather bustier and thong set. She wasn't just dressed like a freak, but an easy, cheap freak. She changed into her pjs quickly and hid the offending objects, but made sure she placed the sword in a safe place until she could take it to Giles.
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Nikki Wood was beyond pissed when she and Spike returned to her Watcher's apartment. She was unabashedly throwing things around as she moved to tend to the wounds of the man she thought of as her brother. In moments, despite the lateness of the hour, both her son and former Watcher had gathered in the living room to see what was going on.
"Well, Crowley, you can call the Council now," she informed her watcher with disgust. "My dumb assed charge has taken away the need for secrecy."
"What has he done?" the older man asked as he passed the Guardian bandages.
"Oh, you know the Desaad chapter house the Council has been trying to wipe out since the fifties?" Nikki asked while being none to gentle in her ministrations. "My boy here decided to bring it down by himself."
"By Jove! And this is a bad thing?" Bernard asked as he went to get more clean water.
Robin Wood studied the man he should hate intently before answering. "It is when the Power's Champion was trying to commit suicide by vampire to do it."
Silence descended as said champion refused to confirm or deny the charges.
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Willie's about four am that same morning
Angel casually caught the front of his trench coat with two fingers of his left hand drawing it tight around him as he entered the seedy establishment. It was not a place that the Powers' One True Champion would have chosen for himself, but he needed to establish him self so that he could use the place later.
He had thought at first that he might try one of his numerous disguises, but had decided that he needed to play this as Angel, The One True Champion. Let the minions of the night beware, for he was among them. He slammed the double doors open, stepping halfway into the room and posing dramatically for effect. The doors, however, had other ideas as they rebounded off the walls and slammed themselves shut once more, knocking Angel back out on his ass.
He regained his feet swiftly, but his foot caught on a hardened spot of Fyarl snot and he tripped forward, falling back into the room flat on his face. Lesser men would have been humiliated, but not our One True Champion! He regained his footing and his composure quickly, and as Whistler had coached him, he allowed his own personal theme song to play in his head.
I'm a vampire you know what I mean and I do my little turn on the catwalk.
On the catwalk. On the Catwalk yeah. I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Angel placed his right hand on his hip and allowed his music to lead him over to Luke, the master's favorite Childe.
Luke looked up from his drink as Angel pranced up to him. "You here to grieve, or to celebrate?" he asked the souled vampire.
At a loss, Angel took a few moments to think of a suitable reply. "Huh?"
Luke took a deep breath as he remembered the intellectual shortcomings of the vampire in front of him. "I guess that soul sucks." He waited a few moments before continuing slowly, "About 9 pm tonight the slayer staked Darla, your sire." Luke handed Angel a shot glass and Angel swallowed the shot with out thinking.
His bonnie Darla. His leading lady for over a hundred years. The first person to show him hair care products. His beloved sire had spent three years combing the goat shit out of his hair. He knew the Slayer had staked her for a reason.
Buffy wanted him and she thought his beloved sire would get in the way. She shouldn't have worried. He had found Suave's line of hair care products and now his hair looked like it cost a fortune, without the old slapper ever touching it. Angel let out a deep breathy sigh, trying to sound grieving.
"Yeah, I know," Luke told him with a grin. "But the master likes her old loose cunt."
The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking their rotgut whiskey as Angel contemplated how manly this made him. The Luke started speaking again. "And yeah, that grandchilde of yours? William??"
He waited for Angel to nod before continuing, "He wiped out the top three Masters in the Order of Thanatos a few weeks ago, then earlier tonight, he wiped out most of the Order of Desaad. Gives him the power of two Orders behind him, now."
Angel looked around quickly. If his boy had that kind of power…
"He is on his way here next, they say," Luke said with a conspiratorial grin. "When he submits, the Master will be the most powerful demon unliving."
Angel gave the brain dead moron next to him a startled look. Did Luke actually think that any vamp trained by Angelus would give up power to anyone but Angelus?
"Was he alone?" Angel asked casually.
"Now that you mention it," Luke answered. "He had both of his turned slayers with him."
Angel felt his unbeating heart freeze up. Champion or not, it might be best to get the hell out of Sunnydale…and soon.
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6 am Sunnydale Library
Buffy was once again dressed like a well-behaved young woman, well except for the Greek sword in her right hand. During the night it had grown a scabbard, one covered in ancient writings and jewels. The Slayer was sure that Giles would like.
"Have something you might want to see." She told her watcher as he walked out of his office.
tbc
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