DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Paramount Studios, Inc
and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are
copyright (c) 2006 by Djinn. This story is rated PG-13.
Pick Six
by Djinn
"Hello, little
beings." The voice boomed out from
the viewscreen, but there was no image to go with it, just the Earth rotating
slowly below the Enterprise.
Kirk frowned. They were back for the last set of refits
after V'ger. This should be completely
routine; they should be heading for spacedock, not being hailed by this unknown
voice. The last thing Kirk wanted or
needed was some other cosmic threat looming over his home planet.
"I have traveled far to
be with you," the voice rang out, hitting each syllable with stage-worthy
precision. Kirk almost admired the
being's--if that was even what it was--enunciation.
Uhura looked over at
him. "It's not coming in on the
comms, sir. It's coming in through the
hull, I think."
"That's
impossible," Sulu said, looking over at Chekov. "Sound doesn't travel in a vacuum."
Obviously no one had told the
voice that. "Bid me welcome, little
beings."
Turning to Spock, Kirk asked,
"What's the source of the sound?"
"Unknown, sir."
"What can you tell me
about it?"
Spock busied himself at his
terminal. "Nothing, sir." He sounded very put out at his failure to
shed light on the entity--the post-V'ger-meld emotionalism was surfacing again.
Closing his eyes, Kirk tried
to reach out with magic, but got nothing.
Maybe he'd do better with his handy-dandy amplifier? Hitting his comm button, he said softly,
"Kirk to Chapel."
She answered instantly. "Chapel here."
"We've got a situation,
and I could use a slayer boost."
"We can hear that voice
down here. I'm on my way."
"She means that we're on
our way," McCoy said, and there was the sound of quiet arguing, then the channel
went dead.
Kirk looked over at Uhura,
laughing when she gave him a "you expected him to stay in sickbay?"
look.
"Little beings, why do
you not answer me?"
The turbolift door opened,
and Chris hurried out, followed by a smug-looking McCoy.
Shooting a look back at him,
she murmured to Kirk, "Sorry, he didn't want to miss out on the fun."
"And who can blame
him?" Taking her hand, Kirk closed
his eyes again. He felt her open herself
to him, dropping every guard she had to let him in, to let him use her.
"I love you," he
thought to her, hoping she got it. He
smiled as he felt her squeeze his hand. Then
he reached out to the source of the voice--and was immediately sorry. "Oh, holy shit," he said as fire
roared down his mental pathways. He
slammed his own version of shields into place, saw the fire collect and push,
but it didn't get by him.
Chris moved closer, as if
sheer proximity could give him more of her energy. He was already pulling on her power heavily,
wouldn't have minded a little more but was afraid he might not be able to
handle it. He waited for the fire to
retreat, then pulled out of search-and-retrieve mode.
"Little being. I am most displeased with you."
"I'm getting sick of
this guy's routi--"
The bridge was gone. Kirk was standing on a planet. A planet with an orange sky and purple
clouds.
"Jim?"
He realized he was still
holding onto Chris. "We're not in
Kansas anymore, sweetheart."
"Or Iowa
either." She moved closer to him,
and he was glad he hadn't let go of her.
He wasn't ashamed to admit
that he felt better having her with him--his odds of surviving whatever the
being had planned probably went up astronomically if he had a slayer along who
had a vested interest in keeping him alive .
"Little beings, you thought
you could understand me by such crude methods?" The clouds formed a nebulous shape--almost
that of a humanoid face--and it shook, as if the being was laughing at them.
"Who are you?" Kirk
said.
"Who am I? I have many names. But you do not know them."
"Enough games. Just pick one and spill," Chris said.
"Hon, don't antagonize
it."
She rolled her eyes, but motioned
for him to take over.
Kirk put on his best
"the fate of the galaxy depends on this negotiation and boy, don't those
appetizers look good" face. He let
go of Chris, moving closer to where the voice seemed to be localized. Holding out his hands, he looked up at the
clouds, and smiled. "We're sorry
that we don't know who you are. I'm sure
if we just got to know each other, we'd become very good friends."
"Friends? I do not want friends. I am your master. I am a god." The cloud coalesced again, then formed into a
face. A really ugly, sort of fish-like
face. "And you will worship me."
"I don't think so,"
Kirk said. "But that doesn't mean
we can't be pals."
The creature laughed. "I like that answer. If you were to freely worship me, then I
would owe you care and tending. But you
defy me. This way...you can amuse me."
"I don't like that word,
Jim," Chris said. "And what
happened to not antagonizing it?"
He was about to answer when
he heard her cry out. She fell to the
ground, clutching at her head. A moment
later, he was on the ground next to her, trying to shield his thoughts from the
barrage of energy that seemed intent on rifling through his memories.
He felt a surge of inhuman
satisfaction as the being hit the last few years.
"Oh, yes," it
said. "This is very
good."
Kirk felt the being
withdraw.
"I see that you are a
competitive species by nature. That is
excellent. I love a good contest." The fish-like face morphed into a lion. "And you have such complicated relationships. That too is amusing."
He roared. Once, then again, then twice more. With each roar, a pillar of flame
appeared. The cloud-lion changed to that
of a cloud-man with curly hair. "I
shall look like you do. It will make it
more diverting." He blew gently,
and Kirk and Chris went flying back, landing on a yellow mat that had appeared
out of nowhere.
"Let's see what we've
found." The being laughed, and two
of the pillars of flames died down, giving way to Spock and Rand.
"Captain. Doctor.
I am relieved to see you are alive," Spock said, as the being blew
him and Rand back to a blue mat.
"He's not entirely
relieved to see you, Captain." The
being winked at Kirk. "He's more
relieved to see your woman alive."
"Yeah, everyone's a fan
of psycho slayer." Rand looked
around at the planet. "Where the
hell are we?"
"You are in my
mind. This is your arena, wolf woman, an
arena you cannot hope to escape until I tire of you."
"And we're here to...?"
Kirk tried to keep his voice calm. But this was reminding him too much of
Triskellion, and Platonius, and Excalbia...
"You will compete. The werewolf, and the Vulcan, and you, Captain,
with your slayer."
"Oh, yeah. That's why I got out of bed this
morning." Rand folded her hands
over her chest, looking generally bored, but Kirk thought he saw fear flicker
in her eyes when she looked at Chris.
"There are still two other
pillars of fire," Spock said.
"How observant you are,
Vulcan. This game would be less fun with
just the four of you. We need to add
some further complications." The
being blew the flames out on the remaining two people; a red mat appeared under
them.
They both emerged looking
very panicked, patting themselves vigorously as if trying to put the fire out.
"Okay, whose bloody idea
of a joke was that?" Spike said. He recoiled from the strange orange
daylight, then peeked out from under his coat.
"Well, that's different."
"Who's in charge
here? Because that was not funny,"
the other man--was he a vampire too?--said, as he patted his hair. "Is it singed? It's not standing up funny, is it?"
"Bloody poof,"
Spike said. Then he looked over Kirk's
way, and a huge smile broke out on his face when he saw Chris. "Well, pet," he said, winking at her. "I didn't expect to see you here."
She was grinning like a fool,
too. "Spike." Then she smiled at the other man--a sweet
smile. Too sweet a smile in Kirk's book. "Nice to see you again, Angel."
He gave her a shy grin. "Not the best circumstances. You know...fire, daylight. Abduction."
"You don't have to
explain. And your hair looks
great."
Kirk patted his own down.
"Yours looks fine too,
mate." Spike shot him a sarcastic
grin. "In fact, it looks an awful
lot like brood-a-date's here."
Angel turned a look on Spike
that could have been a mirror of Kirk's own.
Kirk looked up at the thing
in the sky. "Why them?"
The being laughed. "Because they add...complications. And they are very strong."
"So we have to
fight?" Rand seemed to be already
picking which one she might go up against.
Or else figuring which way to run--Kirk wasn't quite sure.
"Oh, no. Something much worse. You have to...cooperate." The being began to giggle, then his
cloud-borders swirled apart, melding with the rest of the violet clouds. "Don't go anywhere," the voice
boomed out again. "Your first task
starts shortly. After the
icebreaker."
A bar appeared in the middle,
between their mats. It looked fully
stocked, ice included.
"Well, that's right nice
of him," Spike said.
"Christine, can I pour you one?"
She grinned, then looked over
at Kirk, who frowned at her--she wanted to drink at a time like this? "Uh, not while I'm on duty..."
Spike shrugged. "Suit yourself." He grabbed a bottle.
"You shouldn't drink
that," Angel said, trying to grab the bottle from him. "We don't know what's in it."
"Oh, yeah. Like your heart would break into a million
pieces if I blew into dust." Spike
pulled the stopper out and took a deep belt from some clear liquid. He smiled, then his grin faded, and he clutched
at his stomach. "Oh, God. It's holy water." He bent over, body shaking.
"Spike? Damn you, Spike." Angel grabbed him, then his look of concern
changed to one of annoyance. "Damn
you, Spike," he said again, pushing Spike over.
Spike hit the ground, laughing
hard. "That look was
priceless. I almost believe you
cared. And you made me spill, you big
wanker." He popped up and walked
over to Kirk. "So you're the one
she was so hot about, eh?"
"She still is hot about
me." Kirk could feel himself
standing straighter, puffing up a bit.
He really wanted to take Spike down.
"Hon, don't antagonize
him," Chris said with a grin as she moved closer to him, but Kirk thought
it was to keep him from launching himself at Spike rather than to show any kind
of solidarity.
"Some girlfriend you are,"
he said.
"I could have told you
that," Rand muttered.
Spike turned to look at
her. "Got yourself a new blonde,
Spock?"
The look Spock turned on him
was venomous. "As you took mine, it
seemed prudent."
Kirk felt his eyebrow going
up in what would normally have been Spock's shtick.
Rand hit Spock on the arm. "I'm not your blonde. And I'm nobody's second choice." She
glared at Kirk. "Hell, I'm not even
your third choice." She glared even
more.
"Stand down, Chief,"
he said softly.
She ignored him, and her
glare went up to red-alert levels.
Pheromones were bumping out too, sort of confused pheromones. Lusty and angry, all at once.
"Hey. She's like Nina." Spike bumped Angel's arm. "Remember her?"
"Yes, Spike. I remember Nina."
"He likes wolves,"
Spike said to Rand, winking broadly.
Rand seemed to be sizing
Angel up, and Spock stepped between them.
"Chief Rand is on my team, I believe."
"Not very Vulcan, is
he?" Angel asked softly.
"He has issues around
Spike," Chris murmured.
"Who doesn't?"
Angel said. "But he seems extra
emotional besides that."
"He had this life-changing
experience with a big mechanical entity," Kirk said, rushing to Spock's
defense.
"Life changing, huh?" Angel looked a little embarrassed. "Whatever floats his boat, I
guess."
"He doesn't mean that
kind of mechanical entity." Chris
shook her head. "He's just a little
more emotional than your average Vulcan.
Our CMO"--she shot a dirty look at Kirk--"thinks it will wear
off in no time."
Kirk fervently hoped it would
wear off soon. It was giving him the
creeps the way Spock was glaring at Chris and him.
"I did tell you he
almost killed Spike, right?"
Chris's voice was low, pitched only for Kirk--and any vampires, werewolves,
or keen-of-ear Vulcans in the area. She
looked around; everyone was staring at her.
"Oops."
"Little beings,"
the voice boomed out.
Kirk was actually glad to
hear the entity.
"I hope you enjoyed your
cocktail party? Let the contest
begin. The first task?" The sky darkened to a bronzy color; lightning
dashed across it. "Find each
other. Find this place. From six, let there be two." The being laughed, and suddenly everything
around Kirk went black. Then only he and
Chris remained, but they appeared to be in a completely different part of the
planet.
She sighed. "This is a stupid game. Well, at least we're together," she
said, leaning against him and kissing him.
It was a great kiss. Even in the midst of being screwed with by
yet another god-like alien, she knew how to kiss.
"Come on," he said,
with a grin. "Let's go find the
others."
-----------------------
"So this blonde guy, who
is he?" Rand asked, as she watched Spock.
He seemed to be attempting to use the cloud patterns to figure out how
far they'd been thrown from their original position. She decided not to tell him she could tell
which way camp lay by smell--guys hated being shown up, even by a wolf.
"He is a vampire,"
Spock said in a distracted way.
"Yeah, Einstein. I figured that out."
Spock shot her a look of
annoyance, and she grinned. It was a lot
more fun than she'd ever expected to try to get his goat--did Vulcan's even
have goats? And maybe she shouldn't
think of goats, because it was making her hungry, and so far their host hadn't
seemed inclined to offer hors d'oeuvres.
She sat down and waited for Spock
to get done with his perusal of the heavens.
"I take it this vampire--"
"--Spike," Spock
said absently.
"Spike--what kind of
name is that anyway? I take it he was
involved with Christine, too?"
"That is correct."
"Man, she's gotten
around. I think 'Layer' might be more
accurate than 'Slayer.'"
She wasn't sure, but she
thought she heard a stifled chuckle coming from Spock's direction.
"But, then, short life
and all. I guess you have to get your
living in quick." She stretched
sinuously, making a lot of happy noises; Spock didn't turn around. "You on the other hand seem to be
determined to live your very long life with no fun. I'm giving you some of my best moves here."
He did look at her, but only
to lift one eyebrow then go back to his study.
"Not to mention wasting
lots of pheromones," she muttered.
"So who was the other vamp?"
"I am uncertain,"
he said. "I believe the camp lies
this way." He set off.
She didn't tell him that he
was leading them in the wrong direction; she wasn't in any hurry to rejoin the
captain and Christine. Or the two vamps--even
if the taller one supposedly liked werewolves.
"Christine called him Angel."
"Yes, she
did." He frowned and seemed to be
very far away. "Several times when
I was helping Christine conduct research into vampires, there were entries for
an Angelus or Angel. If it is the same
vampire, he is much older than Spike."
"Well, I don't know about
all that. But they smelled wrong."
Spock glanced over at
her. "Define wrong."
"I don't mean bad
hygiene, Mister Stickler. I mean they
smelled...off."
"Spike has a soul. Perhaps this other vampire does, too, if he
is the Angel I read about."
"Souled vampires. That's just wrong. You think you know how the world works, and
then boom, you've got slayers sleeping with vampires, Vulcans getting all
emotional, and vampires with souls."
He didn't seem to like being
included in her list of wrongness. "And
domesticated werewolves."
She edged in front of him,
forcing him to stop unless he wanted to fall over her. "I am not"--she poked him hard on
the breastbone--"domesticated."
"As you wish." He moved around her and continued walking.
"I'm not. Don't make me show you. I am not a thing of beauty when I turn."
"Of course not."
She sniffed. "Angel seemed to understand me. Maybe I should hook up with him."
"By all means."
Slugging him in the arm, she
was surprised when he turned on her, anger sparking in his eyes. "Ooh, that V'ger thing seriously messed
you up, Spock."
"Desist from touching
me."
"Or you'll what?"
"I--" He looked down. "I do not know."
She took pity on him. "Well, at least you're
honest."
He looked upset again. She hoped this emotional roller coaster Spock
was on would come to an end soon. She
knew how it was to teeter between extremes.
She'd hated it.
"Spock, I'm sorry."
"Your pity is not
necessary."
"It's not pity. I can be sorry for you without feeling pity." She stopped walking. "Do you really want to find the
others?"
"That is our goal."
She pointed in the opposite
direction from which they were headed. "Then we need to go thataway,
pardner." Not waiting for him, she
trudged off toward base camp.
He did not follow right away,
but when she kept moving, she heard him finally start to walk. "How do you know this?"
"My impeccable sense of
direction?" She turned to him as he
caught up, winking at him. "Or
maybe just my keen sense of smell."
He seemed to take that
in. "It was imprudent of me not to
ask if you could tell which direction we should go."
"Hey, I'm just the dumb
blonde. No one ever asks me
anything." She frowned, remembering
Christine's interrogation sessions. "Well,
except your bitch of an ex. She likes to
ask me questions. Trouble is, she never
believes me when I answer."
"I am sorry she
intimidates you."
"Yeah, you and me both,
Spock."
They walked in silence then,
but she could tell that he was glancing over at her occasionally. She turned, met his look, and was surprised
to see an odd speculation in his eyes. Feeling
uncomfortable, she picked up her pace, but it was fairly difficult to outwalk a
Vulcan in desert terrain. She turned to
a lope, an easy stride that was a gift from the wolf inside her.
Spock still kept up.
Slowing, she turned to
him. "You're making me
nervous."
"Why?"
"I don't know. But stop it."
For once, he had no bright
quip. He just nodded and let her walk
on. She could hear him bringing up the
rear.
They weren't the first ones
back to camp. Spike and Angel were
already there. She figured they'd sniffed
their way back immediately. They might
not breathe, but vampires could scent prey as well, if not better, than she
could.
Spock did not go near the two
vamps, and Rand decided to show some solidarity and stick close to him instead
of making small talk with Angel--who was kind of cute, in a pouty sort of way.
Christine and the captain
came in much later.
"So much for slayer
know-how. What took you?" Rand rolled her eyes, enjoying the dig at
Christine.
Christine didn't comment, but
the look she shot Rand was filled with disdain.
It was hard to remember that
they'd been friends. Hard for Rand to
recall what she'd seen in this violent witch her mild-mannered pal had turned
into. "Yeah, that's right. Give me the evil eye so I know who's boss. "
She felt Kirk's eyes on
her. His gaze was bland, but he was
staring at her hand where he'd burned her before.
"Fine. You two win.
You're the baddest ones here."
She held up her hands in surrender and backed up a little, running into
Spock. She felt him steady her, even
though she hadn't been particularly unsteady.
Looking up at him, she mouthed, "Thanks."
His nod was nearly
imperceptible, the twinkle in his eyes even less noticeable.
She was suddenly very glad
she was on his team.
---------------
Spike shot looks over at
where Spock sat with the blonde. She
wasn't talking to him, just sitting near him.
Spike wondered if Spock realized that she was showing pack solidarity,
sitting like that with her back to everyone else, as if there was only Spock in
her world.
Maybe there was? Spike watched her face as she glanced up at
Spock. She didn't look like she was in
love with him--her expression was more worried than tender. But then with werewolves, it was often hard
to tell what they were thinking.
He saw movement in the
distance. Christine and her beau were
off running patrol. Spike smiled,
remembering how he used to patrol with her.
The way she and Kirk kept disappearing from view, it looked like she still
liked to mix patrolling with passion.
Spike saw that Spock was
looking off in the distance too, his gaze fixed on where Spike had last seen
Christine and Kirk. Spock turned slowly,
his eyes locking with Spike's again. Spock's
eyes were hard and cold. Like the demons
back in Sunnydale. Spike felt a pang of
nostalgia--it had been a long time since he'd been so roundly disliked.
"Why's he so pissed at
you?" Angel murmured.
"'Cause I'm
me." It was hard to talk low enough
that the other two couldn't hear them.
"Hey, I'd be the last
person to say that was a bad reason. But
I think there's a bigger story. One that
has to do with Christine." Angel
lay back on the mat, staring up at the clouds.
It was one of the things Spike had always admired about him--Angel knew
how to relax during downtime. He didn't
waste energy pacing like Spike often did, although during the Buffy years Angel
had seemed a lot more nervous than he had at any other time.
"Yeah, it had to do with
Christine. But I didn't steal her."
Angel laughed. "Because what woman in her right mind
would choose you over--"
"--Over you?"
"Buffy didn't choose
you, Spike. You were there, and she was
slumming."
"Oh, ouch, that
hurt." The words came out louder
than he meant them too, and Spike saw both Spock's and Rand's heads turn. He ignored them. "I taught Buffy things you could only
dream about doing with her."
Angel swallowed hard--Spike
knew that Angel's one night with Buffy just didn't make much of an argument
compared to the many feverish encounters Spike had enjoyed with her.
"So you ended up with
his woman?" Angel put a lot of
disbelief into the question.
"Yep." Spike saw that Spock was still watching him; if
anything, his expression had grown darker.
"He tried to kill me."
"Points for
judgment. What stopped him?"
"Christine stopped
him. He was trying to force her to do
something. Might have turned out okay,
might not have, but since I had some experience with forcing someone..." He looked over at Angel, wondering if he'd
ever heard about what had happened between him and Buffy in that damned
bathroom.
By the way his brow furrowed
more than normal, Spike guessed he had.
Who'd told him? Willow? Xander?
Dawn, maybe?
"Anyway, I tried to stop
him, and he took it the wrong way.
Christine intervened, and Spock went away mad. And this is the first time I've seen him
since."
"And the other
guy?"
"That's Kirk. He's mad at me because Christine still likes
me."
"Yeah, she looked like
she preferred you...not."
"I didn't say she was
going to throw him over for me.
But..."
"But what?"
"Well, he's sort of
accustomed to being alpha, I think."
Angel glanced over at him,
then looked over at Spock, who Spike noticed was still sending the Vulcan death
glare his way. "I'd say the only
person here who doesn't think she's alpha is the werewolf." Angel suddenly grinned. The open, sunny grin that he so rarely
used.
Spike found himself grinning
back. "It's like old times, isn't
it?"
"Yeah. I love a challenge. Too bad we're not fighting all of them. It'd be fun to see who'd win."
"Whatever happened to
'killing is wrong'?"
"I said fighting, not
killing." Angel smiled. "I can still enjoy a good fight."
"Well, you must be glad
I'm on your team."
"I'm not."
"Sure, you are."
"No, Spike, I'm
not."
"Are too."
"He said," Spock
said loudly, "that he is not."
"Hey, Spike can hear
perfectly fine," Angel said, throwing Spock his own version of a
death-glare.
Spike stared at him in shock. Was Angel defending him?
The werewolf moved, her
shoulder touching Spock's. "Well,
maybe if you kept your voices down, we wouldn't have to listen to you yammer
on."
"Well, maybe you
shouldn't listen in?" Spike got up,
but felt Angel pull him down.
"What are we waiting
for?" the werewolf asked, and Spike saw her dig her hands into the edge of
the mat.
"Antsy?" he asked
her.
"Hungry," she said
with a grin. A surprisingly engaging
grin. Angel was right. This one was a long way from alpha, or she
wouldn't be that adept at diverting.
"What's your name?"
Spike asked.
"Janice."
"I knew a Janice
once." Angel looked over at
her. "She was a Thebarak
demon."
"Those are just a myth." Janice smiled at him too, just as
endearingly.
"They are obviously not
myth, or this vampire would not say he had met one." Spock sounded positively cranky.
"Wow, you make me look
like the life of the party." Angel
pushed himself up and walked over to Spock.
Holding out his hand, he said, "We've never been formally
introduced. I'm Angel."
"Vulcan's don't
shake," Janice said softly.
"No offense."
"No problem." Angel pulled his hand back. "I know you seem to hate my partner over
there. But I'm not really with
him."
"We work together,"
Spike said.
"Okay, we do work
together. But I'm not his friend."
"You're my bloomin'
grandsire."
"You know how family are,"
Angel said with a conspiratorial wink. "It's not like we pick them. In fact, Dru picked him, and she was crazy."
"I met
Drusilla."
"That's right. Christine told me about that when she came to
visit our office."
Spock looked immediately
suspicious.
"Oh, I mean, she came to
say goodbye. Not to me--she didn't even
know me. I mean to Spike."
Spock sighed loudly.
"Goodbye as in good
riddance," Angel had to add.
"Go sit down. You're not helping," Janice said.
Spike decided to change the
subject to something really uncomfortable.
"So what do you suppose Christine and Kirk are doing? They've been out of range for a
while." It suddenly occurred to
Spike that it was just possible Christine and Kirk were in trouble.
It seemed to occur to Spock
at the same time. "We could go
check on them."
"If they're doing the
wild thing, they're not going to appreciate that," Angel said,
chuckling. Then he looked at them. "Did I say that out loud?"
"You did," Janice
said, pushing herself gracefully to her feet.
"All right. Let's go
interrupt their sex-fest."
Spock looked pleased at the
prospect. Spike hung back as they headed
off toward the edge of the long grass, which was the last place he'd seen
Christine and Kirk.
Janice, in the lead, suddenly
disappeared from view. There was the
sound of yelling.
Spock and Angel cautiously
parted the grass. A deep pit stood in
front of them. Spike pushed in next to
Angel.
"It took you long enough
to get here." Kirk was standing
between Christine and Janice, seemed to be moving just enough to keep them
apart. "We've been calling out
forever."
"There must be some kind
of dampening field," Christine said.
Spock reached down
tentatively. His hand was repelled by a
forcefield of some kind.
"Great," Janice
said.
Angel tried to reach down to
them with similar results.
"The being--who we've
seen neither hair nor hide of--said from out of six, two." Kirk frowned.
"And he did say we needed to be together."
Spike met Kirk's eyes. "You want us to jump down there with
you?"
Kirk nodded.
"And what if we're all
just stuck there?"
Janice smiled. "Then I won't go hungry anytime
soon."
"You? You're not the only dangerous thing here, you
know?" Spike was about to get a
good rant on when he felt Angel pushing him forward. "Hey, why me first? You try it if you're so hot to--"
At least he landed on his
feet. Angel and Spock hit the ground a
few moments later. As soon as they did,
the ground tilted crazily and everything went black. Then they were back at the camp, a new wet
bar--this time stocked with plenty of O-positive--and a buffet table set out.
The being appeared above
them. He looked less like clouds now,
more like a real--if very big--man.
"See, you learn to cooperate, and you are rewarded." He beamed at them, then disappeared.
"Well, who's
hungry?" Janice said, pushing her way past them all to the buffet table.
The rest of them stared at
each other, until finally Spock moved around them and went to join Janice. Spike saw him grimace at the very rare hunk
of meat she had on her plate.
"They say opposites
attract," Kirk said to Christine with a grin.
"Don't start with that. You know I don't approve of them together." She glared at him, and his grin grew.
Her own look softened, and
she moved closer. It looked like an
unconscious movement on her part, and Spike felt a lump in his throat. He'd loved this woman--loved her madly,
even. She'd never looked at him the way
she was looking at Kirk. He didn't
remember her looking at Spock that way, either.
Kirk smiled, and his hand
came up to rest on the small of her back.
Spike felt as if the other man had just nailed up a sign that said,
"She's mine."
Christine leaned into his
hand. She certainly didn't seem to mind
being Kirk's.
They moved past him and Angel,
Kirk's hand not straying from Christine's back.
Spike turned away, walking
quickly to the wet bar and tearing open a bag of blood. He felt a hand on his arm and turned.
"I didn't realize you
were in love with her," Angel said very quietly.
Spike shrugged, waiting for
Angel to begin the taunts.
But none came. "I'm
sorry." For a second, Angel's gaze
was soft, then he turned to the bar, finding his own bag of blood.
-------------------
Spock tried to ignore how
close Christine was sitting to Jim, or how often Spike's gaze wandered over to
them. He felt irritation surge through
him and attempted to master it, shifting slightly so he would not have to look
at Jim and Christine unless he chose to.
Rand looked over at him,
shifting slightly, too. He wondered if
that was some sort of pack behavior he did not understand. It seemed to be a signal of camaraderie, made
stronger by the sad smile she gave him as he stared at her.
"You're angry," she
said very softly, but he saw Spike turn and look at them. With all the sharp ears in this group it was difficult
to talk quietly enough to keep their words private. Perhaps the only two who couldn't hear
everything that went on were Jim and Christine--and Spock wasn't certain about
Christine's hearing.
Rand moved a little closer
and seemed about to say something else, but the entity suddenly appeared in the
sky, his cloud visage smiling happily.
"Now that you are fed
and rested, we will enter the next phase of our little game." It looked very pleased with itself, and Spock
saw Jim glare up at it. Then, as if he
could feel Spock's eyes on him, Jim slowly turned and stared at him. A slow, tentative smile started, and Spock
nodded slightly, trying to tell Jim that they were all right, even if, at times,
Spock had the urge to rip his head off.
That was just V'ger's influence,
he rationalized. Just because he had
almost killed Spike for the same reason, did not mean he really wanted to hurt
Jim...
Spock sighed and could feel
his mouth turning down; Rand looked away, as if uncomfortable with the show of
emotion. Jim held his gaze for a moment,
then he, too, looked away.
"Oh, yes. You were the perfect group to put
together." The being laughed, and
Spock found himself suddenly sitting with Spike. "You've proven you can work with an
ally. Now prove you can work with
someone you like much less."
"Oh, now, this is not a
good idea," Spike said as he tried to edge off Spock's mat.
"Silence!" The heavens thundered as the being frowned at
them all. "You will obey me."
Spock saw that Christine had
been paired with Rand, and Jim was on Angel's mat.
"It's a simple task
really." A small gold box appeared
in front of Spock. "Inside this you
will find a description of some plants that you must first locate, then pick a
flower from. Find them all, then bring them
back to base, as quickly as you can. You
are being timed. If you do not complete
your assigned task quickly, I will punish your partners."
Angel just laughed. "Punish Spike? Go ahead."
"There are two of you on
your team, vampire. I do not think your
new teammate will be as eager to see his partner hurt." The being seemed to be looking at
Christine. "I'm very sorry, my
dear, but a demonstration is in order."
She and Spike both began to
writhe, neither one screamed, though.
"My, they are
tough." The being stopped whatever
it was doing to them.
Spock noticed that as Spike
got up, his eyes were either watering or he was crying. "It hurt?"
"Yes, it bloody well
hurt," Spike said.
"Good," both Angel
and Spock said in tandem. Rand sort of
snickered as she looked at Christine.
"Chris?" Jim said,
his attention only for her.
She held up a hand, and Jim
seemed to relax. Their eyes met and
held, and Spock felt as if he was interrupting a very private moment.
"Get a room," Spike
muttered and Spock found himself in agreement with the vampire.
"Now that you understand
the price of failure, I suggest you get busy." One corner of the entity's mouth turned up,
then he disappeared.
"Let me see that
box," Spike said, grabbing it as Spock reached for it. They both got a piece of it, and Spock almost
engaged in a tug-of-war before realizing that it would be very
undignified. He let go, and Spike
cradled the box, carefully opening the lid.
"What precisely are you
looking for?"
"I'm making sure there's
no stake in here."
"If I wished to kill
you, I would not need a stake."
Spock allowed himself a long smile--he had to admit there were times he enjoyed
being able to indulge himself and then blame V'ger for it. "And you cannot hurt me at all. I presume your chip is still
operational?"
"I didn't need a chip to
hurt you last time, now did I, Spock?"
Spike smiled, the expression full of malice. "All I had to do was be with
Christine."
"Are you trying to
provoke me?"
"Maybe." Spike puffed up a bit, and Spock realized he
was a little afraid, but would do anything he could to keep from showing it.
Spock decided to move on; he
had no wish to see Chief Rand suffer the way Christine and Spike just had. "What is in the box?"
Spike held up some kind of
writing implement and a handful of small pieces of paper. There were no pictures on the paper, just
words in a language that Spock didn't recognize. He looked at Spike, who was frowning deeply.
"Don't suppose this is
your mother tongue, is it?" Spike asked.
"It is not." Spock looked around; the others were looking
befuddled and frustrated as well.
Spike pushed himself to his
feet. "Maybe the old ball and chain
knows this one." When Spock reached out to stop him, Spike said, "Cloud
boy never said we couldn't ask each other, Spock. This is supposed to be about teamwork,
right?"
"Logical." He got up and followed Spike to Angel and
Jim's mat.
Angel took one look at their
papers and said, "It's Gaelic."
Then he muttered, "Wesley would have known that."
"Yeah, well, Wesley's
dead, now isn't he?" Spike glared
at Angel, then at Jim for no apparent reason.
Jim ignored him, holding out
his sheets of paper to Spock. "Vulcan?"
"Vulcan."
"And what do you
have?" Angel asked Christine and Rand as they walked over.
"Not sure,"
Christine said.
Spike leaned over and started
to laugh. "Latin."
"That is not
Latin," Spock said,
"Yes, it is. Niblet taught it to me. It's Latinus Swinus."
"Pig Latin? I hate that." Angel rolled his eyes.
"Only because you're too
dense to catch on."
"Right."
"You think you aren't?"
"Gentlemen, we're
wasting time," Jim said, taking out his pen and handing it to Spock. "Can you translate?"
"Why translate?"
Rand said. "Why not just
trade?" At their looks of surprise,
she said, "What? You all think I'm
the dumb blonde?" When no one
answered, she said, "Time's a wastin'."
They all nodded and tried walking off in
different directions. Spock had gone about three steps when the papers flew out
of his hands and he was suddenly holding the Gaelic ones again.
"Okay, translate it
is," Angel said, as they walked back and traded sheets again.
Spike went to work on the Pig
Latin, Angel on the Gaelic, and Spock on the Vulcan. Spock noticed Christine and Jim had moved
closer together and were talking quietly--leaving Rand out.
She was pretending not to
notice, then she looked over and saw him watching her. Moving closer to him, she smiled wryly and
said, "Get to work. I don't want to
be tortured on account of you having lost time because you were worried about
me."
It was a logical request, so
he went back to his task. But he could
sense her staying near him.
Spike finished first, handing
the papers back to Rand instead of Christine.
Spock realized he must have noticed that Jim and Christine were leaving
her out too. It surprised him that the
vampire was supporting Rand, when it was clear he and Christine were still
quite close.
It obviously surprised
Christine, too. She shot Spike a look
Spock could not interpret, then said to Rand, "Let's get moving."
"Ya, mein
commandant," Rand said, causing both Spike and Angel to chuckle.
Spock finished his sheets a
moment later and handed the paper to Jim.
"Tick, tock,
Angel," Spike said, as Angel appeared to be struggling with the text.
"Well, these aren't the
words I knew back in the day."
"What? No occurrences of 'how much for ale and a
wench,' 'be a love and lift your skirts,' or 'thanks for the evening but I have
to go now'?"
Angel put the paper down and
glared up at Spike, who just smiled crookedly, one side of his mouth coming up
in a sneer.
"Please keep
working," Spock said, giving Spike a stern look.
Spike turned away, patting
down his coat as if looking for something.
"You'd think our host would be omnipotent enough to bring my smokes
along?" He began to pace, walking
in long strides, his coat flaring out behind him.
Spock ignored him, but then
Jim began to pace too, managing to keep his route away from Spike's. Spock decided they looked like a spastic
color guard, then he wondered if Jim wished he had a coat like Spike's. The sight of it billowing out after him was
an impressive effect.
"Okay, this is the best
I can do." Angel thrust the paper
at Spock and joined Jim. "Picking
flowers..."
"Should be right up your
alley..." Spike laughed as Jim put
a hand on Angel's arm.
Spock knew the gesture. Jim was urging Angel to leave the annoying
vampire and get moving.
"Why do you antagonize
him so?" Spock asked Spike as they headed out and began looking for their
five plants--Angel had filled in more of the information than Spock
expected. Providing the words were
accurate, of course.
"Because I can. He's damned annoying, in case you hadn't
noticed."
"Considering the source
of that comment..."
"Hey, you and I got
along famously once upon a time."
"Yes, I remember. That was before you stole my wife."
"I didn't steal
her. She was out there alone. No husband in sight."
Spock could feel the old
anger rising. "Christine deserted
me when I needed her most." Spike
made a funny sound, and Spock turned to him.
"You disagree with that?"
"She told me what
happened. You severed that bond thing
you two had. Left her reeling, on top of
what the orb did to her. And we both
know she wasn't exactly stability central back then."
Spock sighed. Christine had not been stable, and the
Gotterdammerung had nearly destroyed her.
"I know," he said so softly a human would not have been able
to hear it.
"She knew she hurt you,
Spock. She hated that she did
it." Spike looked down. "I hated that I was doing it."
"And still you did
it."
"She needed me. I helped her." Spike sighed.
"Do you think I didn't know that taking up with her was a bloody
poor way to repay you for what you did for me?" He pointed to a shrub to his left. "I think that's one of them."
Spock took the paper he held
out, studied it, then the shrub. It had
small white flowers just as Angel had written, and the description seemed to
match. "I agree."
Spike bent down, snapping a
flower off. "This may not make any
sense to you, but I thought I was helping you by helping her. I thought I was saving her...for
you." He looked over at Spock. "I thought when she took you back that
night that she was really taking you back.
She never told me she was going to pull the 'I need to do this on my
own' speech." He shook his
head. "Slayers. They're full of that 'on my own' crap, until
they find a new guy."
"Yes. She is no longer on her own as you say." Spock allowed himself a sigh, saw Spike
glance sideways at him, and met the vampire's eyes. "It still hurts to see her with
Jim." He looked away, startled that
he had shared that with a man he considered his enemy.
"I know. It hurts me, too." Spike shuffled a little bit as he walked,
raising dust. "I loved her, you
know? That's my punishment, maybe--because
I didn't tell you where she was. And I could
have, even thought about it a few times.
But I wanted to help her on my own.
Hell, I wanted to have her to myself once I got a taste. I fell in love with her." He shook his head. "So I have to watch her with Captain
Courageous and suffer, too."
"It is a pleasing
thought. That you are suffering."
Spike looked at him and
smiled. "I thought it might
be."
"I am...sorry that I
almost killed you."
"It's in the past,
Spock." Spike walked a moment, then
he said, "I'm not sorry I tried to stop you from taking her away that
night."
Spock nodded. "You did right. She would not have stayed with me. And I would have been heavily censured by my
own people if I had forced the bond back on her."
"Could you have done
that? Doesn't it have to be a mutual
thing?"
"I do not know. I only know I was going to try."
"Guess I'm not the only
one who's love's bitch," Spike murmured, and Spock was not sure what he
meant by that, but he decided not to ask.
Whatever it was, it didn't
sound good.
----------------------
Angel watched Kirk out of the
corner of his eye as the man tried to edge past him again. Putting on a tiny bit of speed, Angel managed
to get out ahead again. Kirk seemed to
motor up too, and Angel suddenly noticed the plants were going by quickly, and
they weren't looking at them at all.
He didn't slow down.
He'd thought initially he
might like this Kirk fellow. Thought
they might bond on their little quest.
That was before he'd tried to lead and found out that Kirk was not going
to follow a few steps behind like his gang always had. Kirk wasn't even happy walking alongside him.
Angel sped up again, nearly
breaking into a jog.
Kirk finally stopped. "One of us
has got to follow."
Angel circled back. "Great.
You suggested it, you do it."
He began to scan the area for the plants Spock had described.
"Not exactly what I
meant." Kirk took some of the
sheets from him and walked around, studying the foliage.
"This is a lame
exercise."
"Yep," Kirk said
noncommittally.
Angel studied him. This guy reminded him of Riley Finn. Cocky.
Self-assured. Utterly human. "You from Iowa?"
Kirk turned to him
slowly. "Why?"
He had to be from Iowa. "No reason. As you were, soldier." Angel grinned to himself, only Kirk caught the
look.
"Sailor would be
closer," he said, his voice even, as if Angel didn't bother him in the
least.
But Angel could feel a surge
of power from the man. Whatever Kirk was
doing was making his nerves tingle and the hair on the back of his neck stand
up, the way it used to when Willow did magic.
So the man was some kind of sorcerer, which made sense--given the way
his slayer looked at him, he had to have something special. Buffy had never looked at Riley that way--or
at least Angel liked to tell himself that she hadn't.
"Here's one," Kirk
said, bending down to break off a flower.
Angel noticed he didn't put
it to his nose. Spike probably would
have--this many centuries alive as a creature of darkness, and he was still a
poet at heart. Angel wondered if Kirk
would have smelled the flower if he'd been with Christine instead of him.
Angel saw one of the other
flowers they were supposed to bring back and jumped over a medium-sized rock to
get it. He could have just walked
around, but it was more fun to leap--nearly fly--over it. Plus, he felt a childish need to compete with
Kirk. He'd been the same way around
Riley. Spike he just liked to insult,
Riley he'd wanted to destroy. Not that
he wanted to destroy Kirk. But if Kirk
had been sleeping with Buffy, he would have.
"We've all been with
slayers," Angel said softly.
"Well, maybe not wolf-girl?
Although that could explain the antagonism with your slayer..."
"They weren't
lovers," Kirk said, but he suddenly looked a bit unsure.
"No? You ever ask Christine about that?"
"They were best
friends."
"Ah." Angel smirked as he turned to check out
another flower. He might not be evil
anymore, but sometimes Angelus liked to come out and spin people's heads. Or maybe that wasn't the vampire at all,
maybe it was the real Liam? His father
had always called him a black-hearted son-of-a-bitch. Angel had wondered if his father realized
what that had said about mom.
Kirk moved on ahead, his
stride a bit jerkier than it had been before.
"It is sort of weird,
though, don't you think?" Angel said casually, as if asking about the
weather.
Kirk didn't reply.
"I mean all these guys
and not just with any slayer--with your slayer."
Kirk stopped abruptly. His hands were clenched, and he suddenly
shook them out, as if getting ready for something.
Angel had the feeling he was
in imminent danger--a frisson of warning rolled down his spine, and he said
quickly, "Except for me, of course.
I wasn't with her." He hated
to give ground, but he hadn't lived this long by being completely stupid.
Kirk turned slowly, staring
at him. "I don't like games."
"No problem." Angel held up a hand. But as Kirk turned around, he said so softly
only someone with super-hearing would have heard him, "Seventy five
percent, though. What are the
odds?"
Kirk didn't hear him. Which Angel decided was a good thing. He could feel irritation rolling off the man
in the form of magic. Deep, heavy
power. Angel had used enough magic in
his life to recognize someone for whom it was innate.
"Sorry. It's the demon in me," he said
softly. "I let him out every now
and then."
Kirk shook his head, throwing
Angel a knowing look. "No, you
occasionally like to screw with people's heads. You--not the demon. Or maybe you are the demon?" Kirk's face darkened. "I know something about the
demon." He pulled back his collar,
and Angel saw the scars of a bite--a deep one.
"Anacost did this."
Angel hadn't met that
vampire, but he'd certainly heard of him.
His respect for Kirk suddenly went up.
"So you got away. Good for
you, fighting off a master vampire."
"I didn't fight him
off. He drained me, fed me his blood. My friends kept me alive until the slayers
killed him."
"The loophole
clause. Not many people get to take
advantage of that."
"I was lucky. They were there for me."
"Never underestimate a
slayer's determination."
Kirk laughed softly. "Oh, Chris was prepared to kill me. It was Spock and my ship's doctor and Alma--another
woman I was involved with." His
voice changed a little--regret, guilt maybe?
And resignation. "I wasn't
with Chris then. That came later."
Angel got the feeling Kirk
had loved Alma but not the way he loved Christine. Slayers did that to a guy--ruined it for everyone
else.
"The wonders of modern
medicine," Kirk said softly, his voice a little haunted. "I live when I probably should have been
slain."
"Yeah, well. We can all say that." Angel laughed, remembering the times he'd
been down for the count--or sent to hell by his girlfriend. This many years and that one still
stung. "It's not completely gone,
is it? The demon?"
"Do you think it's a
problem that I like my meat rare now?"
"An increased interest
in necks is a better clue." Angel
grinned.
"I've always liked
necks." Kirk didn't grin back. "It's not that. It's knowing when the sun's about to come up
or go down. It's being aware of Chris's
presence sometimes with a sense that has nothing to do with love."
"We all have that. It's a natural warning signal for a vampire
that danger is near. I had it with Buffy,
too."
"You think Spike
did?"
"Spike's too stupid to
have a sense of danger." Angel
grinned again and this time Kirk grinned back.
It was an engaging expression.
Nothing at all like Riley.
"It is sort of weird,"
Kirk said. "He was with both of our
slayers."
"But they didn't love
him."
"No?"
Angel laughed at the tone in
Kirk's voice. "Don't worry. You're slayer may have slept with him, and
she may, for reasons only she knows, be fond of him. But she was never in love with
him." Angel had long ago decided
that was how Buffy had felt about Spike.
"Poor Spike. Always a
bridesmaid, never a bride."
"Oh, I don't know..."
Kirk said, and he suddenly sounded an awful lot like Angelus gearing up.
"You don't know
what?"
"All that tension."
"Between Christine and
Spike?"
Kirk smiled--a miniscule
smile that conveyed a world of meaning.
"No. Between you and
Spike."
"I can't stand
Spike."
"Of course not." It was clear Kirk was humoring him.
"I can't. You just ask him."
"Maybe you should ask
him?"
"Ask him what? Why we fight all the time?"
"Yep. But...don't ask him if you don't want to
know." Kirk smiled again, and Angel
had to fight to keep his hands at his side and not punch the other man in the
mouth.
"There's nothing to
know."
"It's just..." Kirk shook his head, as if he'd thought
better of what he was going to say. Then
he looked over at Angel. "You do
realize homoerotic tension can be expressed as hostility--that it is often a sign
of deeply suppressed attraction."
"Thank you, Captain
Freud. And I am not attracted to
Spike." He hit the "not"
hard.
"Of course you're
not." Again with the humoring.
"Just look for your damn
flowers," Angel said, stalking off as fast as he could go and still have
it be called stalking and not fleeing.
So much for bonding.
---------------
Christine watched as Janice
moved across the uneven terrain. Why had
she never noticed the grace of the other woman?
Why hadn't she seen the supple ease that every werewolf seemed to have
when they covered ground. Was it that
she hadn't thought to look, or that she hadn't wanted to?
Jan had been one of her best
friends. Now she was suspect at best, an
enemy at worst.
Slowly, as if she knew
Christine was watching her, Janice turned to look at her. "You have something to say to me?"
"No." She hadn't had anything to say to Janice
since she'd seen her eating with Spock in the mess.
"Well, that's a
relief." Janice managed to load a
lot of sarcasm into the words.
"On second thought, I
do. Stay away from Spock."
"Or you'll what? Slay me?"
"Maybe."
Janice crouched down in front
of a plant with bright yellow flowers.
She studied one of the translated slips of paper, then snapped a flower
off adding it to the three they'd already collected. "You're a bitch, Christine. And Spock's not yours. You threw him away, remember?"
"I didn't throw him
away."
"Right. Because leaving someone high and dry is
nothing like that." Janice lifted
the flower to her nose, and something changed in her expression as she smelled
it.
"What?"
She held the flower out to
Christine, said, "Remind you of anything?"
Christine sniffed gingerly,
sure it would smell rotten, and Janice was just getting even with her. But it didn't. It smelled vaguely spicy and very sweet. Like the lotion the attendants had slathered
all over Ny and Janice and her in the spa on the Maringu home world. How long ago had that leave been?
"Were we really friends
then?" Jan's voice was low,
husky. "Did we even know each
other?"
"We didn't." Christine pushed the flower away.
"So, we weren't
friends?" Janice sighed and began
moving out. Then she turned, walking
backwards as she said, "It was fun there.
Even if we weren't really friends."
Christine remembered the men
who'd bought them drinks, who'd kept buying the Maringu sweet wine, thinking
they'd get lucky. All they'd achieved had
been to loosen Ny up enough to take the stage during the main act's break. She'd sung a very nasty song while Janice and
Christine had danced on the tables.
Pretty soon everyone had been dancing on the tables, except Ny, who'd
had to be pried off the stage when the main singer came back.
Christine looked over at
Janice, but she'd turned away and was bending over another flower. "It was fun, Janice."
Janice just nodded
tightly. Then she turned and stared at
Christine. It was a hard stare. "What I want to know is why it was okay
for you to have kept quiet about being a slayer, but I'm the bad guy for hiding
that I'm a wolf?" Before Christine
could answer, Janice got up and walked toward her. "I thought you were normal. Why in the hell would I tell you I was a
werewolf? Nobody normal believes in the
things we've seen. In the things we are. In the things you kill."
Christine took a deep breath.
She couldn't explain why she was unable to let go of her anger toward Janice.
"Forget it. I don't need your approval." Janice stalked off, heading for another bush
loaded with flowers.
Christine felt like she
should say something, but no words came.
Was it what Lori had done?
Betraying them all? Almost
stealing Jim away? Was Christine holding
Janice responsible for the evil that her cousin had done?
Or was she just being
cautious. Like cousin like other
cousin?
Deciding not to worry about
it while they had a task to finish, she walked out toward some low groundcover
that had dark red blossoms. The flowers
appeared to match the description she was holding, so she tore one off.
"I've got the last
one," she called to Janice, who walked back to her.
She seemed about to say
something when the air was broken by a terrible scream.
"Did we take too
long?" Christine said as she and Janice took off running. If that was Jim screaming...
"That's Spike,"
Janice said as she loped next to Christine, keeping up easily. At Christine's look of disbelief, she tapped
her ears. "Wolfy keen,
remember? But if he's being punished for
Angel and Jim doing something, shouldn't you be too?" She looked a little disappointed that
Christine wasn't being tortured again.
They burst into base camp
just as Jim and Angel rushed in from the other side. It was Spike who was screaming and writhing
on the ground as Spock tried to get to him but was held back by some invisible
force. Christine and Janice were brought
up short by the same force, and Jim and Angel skirted the thing, ending up near
Spock.
Spike stopped screaming and
lay panting, clutching his head as if suffering the monster of all migraines. The force holding them all away from him
suddenly let up.
Christine was the first to
get to him. Turning him over, she said
softly, "What happened?" She
gently touched through his hair, trying to feel for any damage.
He didn't open his eyes, but
he did moan a little. And not in a hurt
way.
Jim suddenly said,
"Chris, I think he's okay."
"Keep that up, love, and
I'll be even more okay," Spike said, opening his eyes slowly. "What the bloody hell just happened?"
"I decided to make
things more interesting," the entity boomed from above them.
They all clapped their hands to their ears.
"You four are
superfluous to this," it said, and everyone but Spike and Christine was
kicked back a few feet. "Get up,
vampire."
Spike was pulled to his feet
by an unseen hand. Christine felt
something turning her to face him.
"Make things more
interesting how?" Angel asked from behind her.
"The little chip in this
one's head has limited him."
Spike put his hand to his
hair, patting. "You got rid of my
chip?" He didn't sound as if he was
sure whether he should be happy or upset.
"I did. It is liberation day."
Spike looked over at
Christine. "Do you mind if I give
it a try, Christine?"
She took up a ready
stance. "Do your worst."
"Well, I'm not sure I'll
do that." He kicked out hard, much
harder than if he'd been just sparring with her.
She blocked the blow. But it
hurt. "Ow."
"All right then. Big bad's back." He grinned at her. The unrepentant grin that had usually
preceded quality time in bed. "I
can finally do some damage."
"Yes, you
understand." The entity became more
than voice, clouds swirling to make the familiar face as well as a body this
time. "Damage is what I had in
mind. You will fight." When Spike just stared up at it, the being
said in an impatient voice. "You
will fight her. Vampire and slayer in
the ancient battle."
"Like hell I will." Spike patted his head again, as if unable to
believe what had just happened. "Though
there's a Nausicaan bartender I'd like to pay a visit to once we're out of
here."
"I was not suggesting
you fight. I was ordering you to do
it." The entity stared down at them,
its eyes narrowing. "Must I remind
you that I will hurt those you care about?"
"Again, not big with the
caring," Angel muttered, and Christine saw Jim smile almost knowingly.
"Oh, what the hell,
Chris. Let's have a little go-to, then." Spike grinned and started to circle, nodding
as she followed his lead and met his first blow. They'd sparred like this when they'd been
together. He'd been a master at knowing
exactly how far he could push her before his chip would act up, and he hadn't
lost his touch. He kicked and punched,
never hurting her but making her work.
She gave back as good as she
got, and not one bit better.
"Enough!"
They drew apart, neither
breathing particularly hard. She saw Jim
wink at her and had to stifle a smile.
"You think this is a
game?" The being seemed to be
directing its comments at Jim, who was suddenly on the ground writhing--but he
didn't scream, and, when the being finally let up on him, he pushed himself
shakily to his feet.
"They won't fight,"
he said. "No matter how much you
hurt the rest of us."
Christine wondered if any of
the others were going to tell him to speak for himself, but they didn't
contradict him. She felt a sudden rush
of pride in them all.
The being moved closer, its
cloud form making mist as it neared the ground.
"You think you can withstand my anger, little one?" It surrounded Jim, and she saw him
shiver. Then it turned to her, and she
felt a cold fill her, a cold so deep it seemed to burn. "What about you, slayer? Can you stand to watch him die?"
"If she has to,"
Spock said--the voice of reason...or maybe hope?
"And you, werewolf? You are angry with this slayer. Wouldn't you like a chance to fight
her?"
Janice studied her nails, as
if more concerned about a possible torn cuticle than the being's threats. "Well, no. She's meaner and stronger."
The being spread around
Janice, swirls of mist moving around her.
"I can even the odds.
Wouldn't you like the chance to beat her to a bloody pulp?"
Janice smiled slowly. "Sure.
But not for your amusement."
She stared at Christine as if daring her to say something cutting. A moment later, Rand was on the ground,
too. She did scream, but it came out
more as a howl.
The being pulled away. "Had enough, wolf-woman?" Its voice dropped, became almost
seductive. "Everyone knows you're
the weak link, Janice. You don't need to
be strong. They don't expect you to
be."
Janice looked over at Spock,
as if seeing if that was true. He stared
back evenly at her, and she stood a little straighter. "Gotta tell you, after the pens, your
idea of pain is lacking somehow. I don't
need to be strong for them. I survived
Nogura; I can survive you."
"Good on you, blondie,"
Spike murmured.
Janice smiled, but the
expression was a little tentative.
The being began to laugh, the
cloud shape shaking with the sound, and Christine found herself back on the yellow
mat with Jim. "Oh, my," the
entity said, "you are doing so well, all of you. Who would have thought such a collection of
misfits would be so stalwart? You've
earned a rest for such noble fortitude."
The being disappeared.
"Hey," Angel said,
a sour expression on his face. "I
am not a misfit."
"Oh, right. You're the king of normal." Spike laughed at him.
Christine saw Jim smile the
funny smile again, and moved closer, giving him a "what's so
amusing?" look.
"Those two never
quit." Then he waggled his
eyebrows. When she frowned, he made a
circle out of his thumb and forefinger and poked his other forefinger through
it a few times.
"Them?" she
said. Very loudly. Everyone turned around. "As you were," she said weakly. She turned back to Jim. "Them?" she said as softly as she
could.
He nodded vigorously.
She mouthed, "No way."
"Oh, not yet. But someday.
And not too far from now. Bet you
fifty rec lounge credits I'm right."
She could feel her eyebrows
going up. That would buy a lot of
drinks. She looked back to where Spike
and Angel sat arguing about what appeared to be cavemen and spacemen, and shook
her head. Those two...lovers? No way.
"You're on, sucker."
He just laughed. "Will I be disqualified if I match-make?"
She socked him in the arm--softly,
but he still winced.
"Guess so,
huh?" He pulled her close, holding
her for a moment as he whispered, "Maybe I just want Spike happily settled
with someone--anyone--but you."
She nuzzled against him. "I love you, not him."
"Oh, I know. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to get
rid of the competition."
Laughing, she pulled back
enough to kiss him.
"Oh, get a room,"
the others said in almost scary unison.
She and Jim ignored them long
enough to finish the kiss.
-----------------
"I hope you are
rested," the being's voice sounded above them, causing the ground to
shake.
Spike opened his eyes and
checked out the scene. Kirk and
Christine were up and staring at the sky, two warriors not letting the fact
that they'd been lying close enough to be Siamese twins stop them from being
battle ready in an instant. Spock was
sitting up, and Spike noticed that he checked on Rand before he got to his
feet. She uncurled--had she been lying
against him?--and got up gracefully.
"Get up," Angel
said, slapping Spike on the arm as he pushed himself up.
"Get up
yourself." But Spike scrambled to
his feet, not liking being the last one standing.
"Your tests so far have
been simple. This one will not be. Time to choose new partners--I get to choose,
of course."
Spike looked down, saw that
he was sharing the yellow mat with Christine.
Rand was with Angel on the red mat, and Kirk had been moved over to the
blue mat with Spock.
"This won't be so
bad." He grinned at Christine.
She smiled back, but she
looked worried.
"What?"
"He said it would be
hard."
"Oh. Right."
He moved closer to her. "But
it's us. We'll be fine if we're together." The words echoed in his mind, and he
remembered saying something similar to Buffy just before their battle with the
First.
"Spike?"
He shook his head, forcing
himself back to the present and this different Slayer. "Just wandering down Memory Lane."
"Well, quit it."
There was a sudden shaking and the ground tilted crazily. "Ready?" the being asked.
They didn't have a chance to
answer. Suddenly they were on a field,
torches flickering around them.
"Oh, God, no." Christine seemed to be shrinking.
"Pet. Pet, it's okay."
"No." She closed her eyes.
He realized he heard the sound
of many humans--breath coming in and out, hearts beating, and the sound of
murmured voices. And then he sensed more
people--his own kind, this time.
"What is this?"
"Gotterdammerung."
"Bloody hell." He pulled her back. "We don't have to stay."
But they did. He ran into something like a wall as he tried
to flee with her. She whimpered again.
"Christine!"
someone screamed. A young voice. A young girl.
"Laura." Christine was off and running.
Spike followed her, watched
as she knelt down, trying to comfort a young girl who'd been hacked open. He could see a doppelganger of Christine,
probably a memory-residue of what she'd really done. The Christine with him now was superimposed
on top of the image, saying the same words as if they were ritual, memorized
for a special event.
"Don't do this to
her," he said. But the being wasn't
listening to pleas from the witness.
Spike felt helpless; Christine didn't seem to even know he was with her.
The girl died, and it was
bad. But then Christine was called to
Spock's side and it got worse. Spock severed
the bond, and Spike watched as the Christine he knew best--the one who'd been
so damaged--was born. He would save this
woman; he would love this woman.
Spike followed her around the
battlefield, watched as she talked to another slayer--a dark woman who reminded
him a little of the slayer Dru had killed back in Sunnydale. Then he stood at the edge of the field,
watching Christine as she made the decision to run again. She seemed entirely in the memory, and he
thought he might lose her, that they all might.
"Pet. It's not real. Don't run."
But it was probably the most
real moment of her life. The changing
moment of her life.
And she ran, right off the
field. Right into his arms--because he happened
to be standing in her way. Not, he
thought, because she'd meant to.
"Emma?" she
murmured.
"Who's Emma, love?"
Then Christine seemed to
shake herself, and she looked at him--really seeing him for the first time
since the memory had taken hold. The
planet faded, turning into a dank cave, stone steps running down to a ledge
overlooking a huge pit. A too familiar
pit. Spike waited, but nothing happened,
and he turned back to Christine. The
being was evidently giving them some recovery time before he unleashed Spike's big
moment.
"I'm not her." She took his hand. "I'm not her, Spike."
"No, you're not."
"I don't run. Not anymore." She was gripping his hand so hard it hurt. "Emma taught me. I taught her, too." She started to cry.
"It's all right."
"That was the worst
decision of my life, Spike. To run like
that. But..."
"But...?"
"I look at what I've
become, and I wouldn't be that if I hadn't passed through hell. If I
hadn't made that choice. I'm not sure I
could make another decision. Does that
make sense?"
"Yes."
She hugged him. "Thank you for your part in bringing me
back from that."
"It was fun. I didn't mind in the least." He grinned at her, then his smile faded as he
heard the silence around them giving way to the sound of fighting. Another war, slayers against vampires. Another Gotterdammerung.
Christine gasped. "What is this?"
"My hell," he said,
and then she seemed to disappear. And he
saw Buffy beside him. Saw her take the
blow that sent her to her knees. The
First was taunting her. The amulet Angel
had brought--that Spike had wanted to wear, but Buffy had refused to let him--hung
lifeless around her neck.
He ran to her, ran right through
the First to get to her. "Give me
that." He tried to wrest the amulet
off her, but she held it down.
"No."
"Buffy, get out. Get out now and let me do this."
"Do what? The amulet doesn't do anything. It was just a trick someone played on Angel." She forced herself to her feet, catching the
axe as it was thrown to her by Rona.
"We finish this."
Blood was streaming from her
side; he could smell it, even in the half-light of the pit. But it didn't stop her from fighting like a
thing possessed, and he fought just as ferociously beside her. He could feel the life ebbing out of her even
as she sent a hundred creatures to their death.
Then she yelled,
"Faith!" and threw the axe to the other slayer before slumping into
Spike's arms. The amulet began to glow.
"It does do something,
Buffy. Look, it does." He was babbling, like the weak-willed poet
he'd been. Not the man he'd become. But was he either of those men, anymore? Or had she changed him? Had he changed himself for her?
The amulet began to shine
like the sun. It hurt, and he winced.
She saw him do it. "Get out," she said. "Now.
While you still can."
"No." He tightened his hold on her. "I want to see how it ends."
"Everybody out,"
she yelled to the slayers. And they
began to run out.
Buffy pushed him away. "Go.
Now." She moaned as the
light began to burn her, as her clothing began to smolder. ""I love you, Spike. Now, go."
He knew she didn't love him. But he wasn't going to call her on it. Not when it was the last gift she could give
him.
"Go!" she screamed
and he left her.
He left her. And he had thought he would never leave
her. He turned, ready to go back to her,
ready to die with her. But she'd turned
her face, was facing the pit, was staring at the First in her body.
"Go back to hell,"
she told it. "Here"--she
lifted the pendant, let its light blaze out--"I'll show you the way."
And Spike knew he couldn't
stay. This was not his fight, anymore. He left her because she'd told him to. It was the only gift he'd been able to give
her.
"I love you,
Buffy," he screamed as he ran up the stone steps, saw Faith waiting for
him.
She grabbed him, and she
turned into Christine. Christine--who
held him and stroked his hair.
"I had to leave
her," he said softly. It had been
something that had haunted him all these years.
But he'd had to abandon her, just as Angel had to go back to Los Angeles
and leave her to fight the First. They'd
only done what she'd wanted. What she'd
asked.
What she'd ordered.
"It's okay,"
Christine said gently.
He nodded.
The cave faded away; a blue-lit
space folded around them; it was warm, with a soft breeze blowing.
"What kind of thing is
this being?" Spike asked.
"That it makes us relive such hell?"
"I don't
know." Her eyes were red rimmed,
and her voice a little scratchy.
"Maybe it enjoys seeing us suffer?
Reliving our worst moments with us."
"Not just our worst,
though. Our big moments. Our biggest."
"Changing
moments." She closed her eyes. "I'm so tired."
"Don't sleep. Think of the nightmares we'll
have."
But she was already asleep,
and he felt exhaustion overcoming him, too.
Unable to fight the feeling, he lay back, feeling the blue ground mold itself
around him. The softness throbbed
slightly, comforting him. He closed his
eyes, letting sleep take him.
He didn't dream at all.
-------------------
Kirk woke; his exhaustion
after the ordeal of reliving Kodos's massacre was gone. He felt rested, the pain and terror back
where it belonged--in his past.
He looked over at Spock, who
was stirring, too. Spock's pain had been
much more recent. Kirk had relived the
attack Chris had told him about, Spock trying to take her back to Vulcan,
trying to kill Spike. He wished he could
say that he had not recognized his friend in that moment--except he had. He'd seen him once on the sands of Vulcan,
when T'Pring had chosen Kirk as the one to fight Spock. Only then Spock had been under the influence
of the Pon Farr. This time it had just
been his emotions pushing him to hurt, to take, to do whatever he wanted. Love.
Love gone crazy.
"I wish you had not seen
that," Spock said softly, and Kirk realized he had been staring at his
friend--probably not with admiration.
"I'm glad I did, in a
way. I've never understood how you could
go to Gol, how you could send the messages you did to Chris and me. I knew we hurt you, but I never comprehended
how you hurt yourself."
"Yes. I may have been paying you back as much for my
own betrayal of myself as for yours."
Spock sat up, studying their surroundings.
"Are we trapped
here? Do we have to find a way
out?"
"I do not know,
Jim." Spock leaned back; the blue
ground pushed up against him, forming a cushion.
"You don't care, either,
do you?"
Spock almost smiled. "It is peaceful here. We will escape only to be thrust into some
new test or game. I almost prefer it
here." He met Kirk's eyes. "I
am sure you do not. Not with Christine
waiting for you." His voice held
such bitterness that Kirk had to look away.
"You gave her to me,
Spock."
"I did not have much
choice. You had taken her heart in my
absence."
"Yes. In your absence. You left.
Both of us." Kirk was close
to yelling and he turned away, forcing himself to calm down. "Damn you. I didn't--we didn't."
"I know, Jim. She told me that, too."
"I wanted to,
though. I did." Kirk wondered why he was telling Spock
this. It wasn't necessary to point out
he was nobody's saint. Spock knew that. "I almost got her killed trying to keep
her out of my heart."
"By the vampire who
nearly turned her?"
"Yes."
"Would you have killed
her if she had been turned?"
Kirk shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I would have given up, then. I'll never know; it didn't happen. She was stronger than he thought." The blue around them began to fade. "I guess we don't have to find our own
way out."
"It would seem
not." Spock climbed to his feet,
stared down at him a moment, then held his hand out.
Kirk reached for it, let
Spock pull him up. They stood for a
moment, hands still clasped. "I've
missed you, Spock. You have to know that."
"I do know that. Because I know you. Even though, at times, I hate you." Spock's eyes were calm, but something hard
glittered behind the evenness. He let go
of Kirk's hand. "I will doubtlessly
learn to get beyond that. Especially as
it was my choice that Christine stay on the ship, that she stay with you."
"Would it have been
easier for us if she'd left? She'd have
been there, forever. Gone but standing
in between us like a ghost."
"Yes. She would have. This, as much as it hurts, is preferable."
Kirk was surprised that Spock
would admit so readily that it hurt him.
He tried to smile, could tell it was half a smile, half an apologetic
grimace. What was he supposed to
say? That he was sorry he'd gotten
Chris? He couldn't say that. But he was sorry that Spock had gotten hurt
on the way to Kirk finding happiness.
Spock took a deep breath and
clasped his hands behind his back. He
looked like the perfect Vulcan again.
Kirk straightened up,
too. They would be perfect officers
together. Then he looked over at
Spock. "Hate? Really?"
One eyebrow went up.
"Okay, I'll leave it
alone." He turned, watching as the
blue disappeared, leaving them back at their camp.
Chris looked up. When she saw him, she pushed herself up and ran
to him. He caught her up, holding her,
feeling himself tremble as her strong arms surrounded him.
"Was it bad?" she
asked.
"Yes. Yours?"
She nodded. But then she whispered, "I think
reliving it helped me. I didn't do
anything differently."
He thought of his terror as a
boy, running and hiding with the others who managed to slip away from the
soldiers with their phase pistols and long knives. He'd done the same thing again. He'd wanted to turn and fight, but he hadn't
been that man yet. In fact, it was
possible that the man was born on that day.
Born vowing he'd never run again.
Kirk let go of Chris, saw
that Spock had moved away, joining Rand on their mat--she looked pale and
drawn. Spike sat, subdued and staring at
the ground. Angel looked very far away.
He realized the being had
re-formed above them, the clouds outlining a face gone thoughtful. "You are all so serious."
Angel glared up at the
sky. "Reliving hell can do that to
a person."
"Possibly literally, in
his case," Spike added.
"I know what you
relived. All of you. I was with each and every one of you. It was...exhilarating."
"Glad we could be of
entertainment," Kirk said, not bothering to glare at the being since Angel
had that covered--the man could glower like no one's business.
"I need to repay
you." Suddenly the arid landscape
gave way to a tropical forest, a white-sand beach and blue-green lagoon spreading
in front of them. "Enjoy
yourselves."
All six of them stood still.
"It's safe, I assure
you. Go play. When was the last time any of you did
that?"
No one moved.
"Very well." The being laughed, and the world trembled,
and suddenly everyone but Chris was gone.
Kirk reached for her, afraid
that she'd be pulled away, too.
"Can you play now?"
the being asked. "Consider it a test,
if it makes it easier. How much fun can the
two of you have?"
"So you can live off our
pleasure?" Chris asked.
"If you wish to think of
it that way."
"Wait a minute,"
she said. "Is Spock with Rand? All alone?
Playing?"
"He is." The being seemed to wink at her. "I do hope they'll be more entertaining
than you two are proving to be." It
disappeared.
"Now what?" she
asked, her voice sour.
Kirk studied her.
"What?"
"Why does it bother you
so?"
"Jim. Come on."
"I'm serious. Why?"
He moved closer. "If it
weren't Rand, would you mind?"
"Of course not. I'm over him.
You know that." She
sighed. "Why does it bother you that
it bothers me? Are you protective about
her now?"
He shook his head. "Not particularly."
"She's a werewolf, one
of Lori's werewolves. That makes me
nervous. And Spock's vulnerable right
now--because of us and because of V'ger."
"I know."
"Then don't try to
second-guess my motives. I'm not in love
with him, but I still have the right to worry about him if he seems to be
heading toward danger."
He studied her, could see no
deceit in her face. He finally nodded,
willing to give it a rest.
"Why are we arguing
about them? We're in paradise for the
moment." She moved closer. "Let's go for a swim." She began to pull off his uniform.
He stopped her. "What if it's a trick?"
"What if it's not? What if it's just a chance to
play?" She waited, though. Waited for him to make up his mind. She'd follow his lead.
He smiled, and saw her
relax. He reached over, pulling her
uniform off her, then shedding his. He
grabbed her hand, ran with her to the water, playing like he hadn't for
years. Maybe not since he'd run from
Kodos's men.
He imagined Chris had stopped
playing when she'd found out she was the slayer. Or maybe after the Cruciamentum.
"What did you see?"
she asked him. "What was your hell?"
"Tarsus IV."
"I thought that would be
it."
"You saw that
battlefield, didn't you?"
She nodded.
"I missed so much that
night." Alma had held him close,
kept the vampire trying to take control of him contained by her fire and her
love.
"You're thinking about
Alma?"
He nodded.
"Do you ever miss
her?"
"Not anymore. Would I be a better man if I said yes?"
"It's easy to say, I
think, when she's not here, complicating your life."
"Like Spock is yours,
you mean?"
She nodded. "And it's ours now, remember?" She grinned at him, waited for him to grin
back. "I'm over Spock. But I can't escape him the way you can put
Alma behind you."
"I know." He kissed her. "I love you, Chris."
"Do you think this being
is ever going to let us leave?"
He shrugged.
"Could you lie about
that?" She smiled at his
expression. "Just a little?"
"Yes, he'll let us go
any minute. He'll get what he needs from
us and move on."
"Okay." But she sounded resigned rather than relieved.
She settled back into his
arms and they floated in the blood-warm water.
He closed his eyes--he really hated it when he thought of things in
those terms, when Anacost's legacy struck again.
"I love you, Jim. I have you because of my hell. Maybe I have you because of yours, too? Maybe our paths would never have crossed
otherwise?"
"Maybe not."
"I know Spike and I
wouldn't have met if he'd died with Buffy.
He never would have saved me."
"He might never have had
to. If Drusilla had not shown up, would
you have ended up on that field?"
He shook his head. It was too
hard to think this way. Too easy to get
tangled up in what ifs. "This is
what it is."
"What is it,
Jim?" She pulled his arms around
her more tightly.
"Love, Chris. It's love."
She nodded, and he kissed her
neck. Then, not saying anything more, they
just drifted in the warm, welcoming water.
----------------
"You are very
quiet," Spock said to Rand as they sat on the beach. She was still pale, but she appeared to have
her energy back, digging relentlessly through the sand with her fingers.
"I'm sorry. I've used up my perky reserves."
"I do not require
vivacity."
"No kidding or Christine
would not be on your list of ex-girlfriends."
"Ex-wives."
"Right. And you actually have a list of those,
too." She shook her head. "Who'd have thought it?"
"It has not escaped my
notice that you resort to sarcasm when you are in pain."
"Good for you, Mister
Observant." She scrambled up,
started to walk away.
"In your test, were you
in the pens you mentioned?"
She stopped. Then she turned and stared down at him. "Yes."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "I learned to be
human, there. I learned control. I guess it was a growth experience. Despite all the pain."
He nodded.
"Where were
you?" She looked as if she did not
expect him to tell her.
"Reliving the events
that sent me to Gol." He allowed
himself a small, wry smile.
"Not a nice place, I've
heard."
"I suppose one might
consider it Vulcan's version of the pens."
Feeling suddenly restless, he got up and indicated they should walk.
"It was Christine who
sent you there?"
"To some extent." He'd blamed her for so long. Told himself that loving her, that his human
emotion grown too strong for her, had sent him to Gol. But he had sent himself there. He was to blame, not her or his feelings for
her. He'd allowed himself to become all
that he'd come to hate. He had made
choices. Choices that he had not chosen
to undo, even though it had made him slightly sick to have to live through it
again--or to have Jim witness it.
"Christine is not to blame."
"You protect her? She doesn't deserve it."
"I am not sure of
that."
"I am. I hate her, Spock. She was my best friend, or I thought she
was. And she looks at me now with such
loathing. Like I'm beneath her. We're the same people we were, aren't we?"
"I do not believe we
are. Secrets come out and truths color
everything."
"How poetic." She looked down, kicking the sand as she
walked. "Do you think I'm a bad
person?"
"For being a werewolf,
you mean?"
"No, for being me. For being Janice Rand. Lori's cousin, and part of the Nogura's team,
and someone who was in love with her captain, and who spent way too much time
talking about it to her friends. Am I
bad or just pathetic?"
"I do not consider you
either." He looked over at her,
touched by the trembling smile she gave him.
He realized she was not showering him with any pheromones. This was just Rand. A Rand who looked very appealing and
vulnerable. He forced himself to look
away.
"Do you swim?" she
asked.
"I can swim. It is not, however, something I often choose
to do."
"I'm going to
swim."
"Very well."
"I'm going to swim
naked, Spock. So you might want to turn
around." She met his eyes.
He didn't turn around, wasn't
sure why he was ignoring the voice that told him to give her some privacy. But, even if he'd wanted to turn, he wasn't
sure his legs would have obeyed him.
"Suit yourself,"
she said. She slowly stripped off her
uniform, stood before him in her underwear.
"Sure you don't want to come in?"
He felt a rush of lust for her even though she was still not using any
pheromones, but he was unsure if it was because he felt something deeper for
her, or if it was just this place and what he'd been through with V'ger and
with Christine.
Rand took off her
underwear. She stood before him, head
held high, her eyes holding his. The way
she stood there, as if nakedness was her natural state, aroused him even more.
"I do wish to come in,"
he said.
"Then come in."
"My reasons for doing so
are not clear to me."
"I said swim, Spock. I didn't say you were going to get to have
sex with me. Now, take off your clothes
and come swimming."
She waited.
He took off his uniform.
"Christine gave up a
lot." She grinned at him, and he
found himself covering part of his front with his hands. "Guess you thought we were having sex,
huh?"
"You are teasing
me?"
"I am. Get used to it." She walked over to him, took his hand and
pulled him after her into the water.
When they were waist deep, she let go of him and dove into the shallow
water. He stood in the water, watching
her swim so freely, and he gradually relaxed, accepting that he was naked, and
so was she, and they were not, apparently, going to take advantage of that
fact.
He realized he was
disappointed. Had she wanted him to
realize that?
She was not stupid. She was anything but.
She surfaced, rolling to her
back. Certain parts of her jutted out of
the water.
He groaned, and she
laughed. It was a pure, throaty laugh
that probably should have unnerved him, but he only felt more drawn to her.
"Come out here,
Spock." She turned her head, stared
at him straight on, not blinking. A sign
of aggression from what he remembered of predators.
He realized he was in a
battle of wills.
He backed up, so parts of him
were no longer in the water. "I
believe you should come here."
"You do, do
you?" She blinked and smiled. Conciliatory.
Or just surprised and pleased, perhaps?
"Janice, come
here."
With a feral grin, she
flipped onto her stomach, and dogpaddled in.
Once she hit shallow enough water, she stood up, then walked to
him. "You called me Janice."
"It is your name."
"It is. It just sounded different this time." She stopped barely within arm's reach. "What now?"
He felt overcome by
doubt. He wanted her, but did he only
want her so he could forget another woman?
She closed the gap between
them. "I love that you're thinking
about it. Because parts of you are in no
doubt what you want to do, Spock."
And she touched those parts of him, making him groan again. "Let's play?" She grinned up at him. A toothy, open expression. Her eyes sparkled and her hair shone in the
sunlight. A natural creature asking him
to not think, to just do.
He pulled her to him and
kissed her. She was like a snake in his
arms, rubbing sinuously against him.
Part seduction, part pack-comfort, he imagined. Her mouth was warm and rough against his,
accepting his dominance, her tongue teasing his in a small show of challenge. It was nothing like kissing Christine.
He let her push him to his
back in the sand.
"Play?" she asked
as she crawled on top of him.
"I do not play,
Janice."
"Right. Because sex is serious business."
"Yes. It is."
But, caught up in her boisterous energy, he found sex with her anything
but serious.
He came very close to playing.
------------------
Angel watched as Spike
stripped off his clothes and ran into the water. The other vampire hooted as he hit the waves,
diving into them with another loud cry of pleasure.
Angel smiled as he
watched. How long had it been since he'd
played in the sea under the blazing sun?
He'd swum with Buffy, back in Sunnydale, before he'd had to leave
her. But that had been in the
moonlight.
"Come in, you big
ponce." Spike leapt out of the
water like a flying fish, diving back in, laughing as he came up again. "Oh, yes. This is bloody perfection."
Angel slowly pulled his
clothes off, easing into the water, the way he had as a kid--he'd always been
too cold in the water.
Spike glanced over at
him. "Angel, it's not like it's chilly. Or that cold should even bother you."
Angel forced himself to walk
faster, dropping as soon as he could, letting the warm water heat him up. He floated happily as Spike gamboled like a
baby seal. An annoying baby seal.
An annoying--chipless--baby
seal. Should Angel be worried about
that? Spike had a soul now. And it wasn't like they didn't take on their
share of evil humans--humans that Spike had not been able to fight. This would even the odds on the side of the
righteous.
But he'd never get to see
Spike beaten up by an evil grandma again.
Too bad.
Spike, finally tired,
apparently, of making like Shamu, floated near him. "So what was your bad moment? Was it hell?"
"No. Being turned." So much had led up to that. Such dissolution. His growing distance from his father, the way
his mother had looked at him with her quiet disappointment. He'd been becoming something monstrous even
before Darla had found him.
"Really? That was the moment?" Spike shook his head. "Mine wasn't."
"Let me guess. Buffy."
Sometimes it was nice that they'd shared her, only in the sense of Spike
being able to understand Angel's feelings for her. But mostly Angel hated that Spike had had a
part of her.
"Watching her die. Not taking her place."
"Would she have let
you?" They'd avoided talking about
this. They generally used Buffy as a
battering ram, something to irritate the other with.
"No. And that's what I needed to learn, I
guess." Spike sighed, then it
turned into a happier sound. "I
missed this. The sun feels so
good."
Angel sometimes envied him
his ability to live in the moment. "It
does." They floated awhile, then he
looked at Spike. "So why didn't you
tell me you were in love with Christine?"
"Oh, right. And give you that to use against me?"
"I wouldn't have."
"Oh, of course, you
would have. Angelus is still inside you,
Angel. And he loves to pick."
Angel felt a little stung by
Spike's words.
"Oh, don't pout like
that. I'm sorry I said the 'Angelus'
word."
"I just...I think I'd
show a little more sensitivity than that.
I didn't know you were in love with her.
I thought it was just physical."
"Yeah, well, it
wasn't."
"Did she leave
you?"
"Nope. I left her.
For her own good, too."
Spike shot him a "beat that" look.
"Right."
"I did. She needed to
move on. And I needed to give her up
because I was never going to have her the way I wanted to." He suddenly looked sad. "The way Kirk does."
"I don't like him."
Spike looked over at
him. 'Really?"
"Really. Big jerk.
Reminds me of Riley."
"Yeah. Me too.
Don't know what Christine sees in him."
"Me, neither."
Spike laughed. "He is cute."
"Not that you'd notice
that."
Spike looked over at him,
frowning slightly. "Why wouldn't I
notice that? We used to pick dinner
based on looks, remember?"
"Yeah, I know. But we prefer women."
"Sure." Spike's frown grew deeper, as if he was
getting confused. "You mean to
eat?"
"For dinner or
for...anything."
"Okay. Right.
Women only. We're he-men. Grrr."
"Right. Grrr."
Angel was tempted to go club a bull or something to prove his
macho-ness. Only there weren't any bulls to club. Could he club Spike?
Spike rolled his eyes. "What is wrong with you?"
"It's just something
that he said."
"Kirk?"
Angel nodded.
"What did he say?"
"It was
nothing." Angel turned over, ready
to go back in.
"You're not going in
now. We may never have this opportunity
again. Enjoy the bleeding sunlight." Spike swam closer as Angel sulked. "What did he say that has your knickers
in such a knot?"
"He said we fight an
awful lot."
"And we always
have."
"Yeah, but...maybe, too
much?" Angel knew his face was
doing the dopey thing that Lorne used to tell him made him look like he was a
just-hit-puberty teen.
"Too much for
what?"
"For, you know,
normal. That maybe there's something
under the tension?"
Spike looked confused, then
his eyebrows went up as he seemed to get it.
"I think he was screwing with you, Angel."
"Really? You think?"
"Oh, yeah."
Angel took a breath he didn't
need, letting it out, letting it express his relief.
"Although..."
He turned back to Spike. "Although what?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean
nothing? What?"
"It's just..."
"What? It's just what?"
Spike started to laugh. "I can see why he did it. It's loads of fun."
Angel splashed him.
"Big poof."
"Quit calling me
that."
"Right, 'cause I
wouldn't want to call a spade a spade."
Spike laughed. "Are you
attracted to me?" He started to
swim closer, his face screwed up into an exaggerated pucker. "Give us a kiss, then."
"Knock it off,
Spike."
"Gods above, Angel, I
haven't had this much fun yanking your chain since you were turned into that
wee little puppet man."
"Shut up, Spike."
"Oh yeah. Life is good." Spike swam away, still laughing.
Angel realized he was
watching Spike's backside and immediately looked away. This was not happening.
Spike laughed again--the
annoying laugh that was getting on Angel's remaining nerve. "Yeah, you get a good look at that, why
don't you."
Angel wondered if Christine
would mind too much if he killed both Kirk and Spike.
Slowly.
------------
Rand heard someone chuckling
softly and stirred from where she'd been lying--she'd been holding onto Spock as
he nestled into her like a big Vulcan wolfcub.
She looked up at the sky, but there was no cloud-thing staring down at
them.
"I can take form. If I wish to."
She looked over her shoulder,
saw the being standing behind them.
"Spock. Wake up."
He came awake slowly. As he stirred, she discreetly checked him for
bites. She hadn't intended to bite him,
but accidents happened sometimes--especially a first time. And, boy howdy, never let it be said Spock
wasn't a kick in the sack. Or the
sand. If she'd lost her head, it would
have been entirely his fault.
She grinned at him as he
looked up at her. "Our host is
here. Here-here, not up-in-the-sky
here."
Spock brushed himself off,
turning to look at the being, not acting the least bit bothered that he was
naked in front of the guy--or whatever he was.
He looked like a guy now. A sort
of old, nebbishy guy. Not the super-being
who'd been dishing out pain and stupid games.
"Are you done here?"
the being asked. "I'm checking with
you because, of all the pairs, you two have managed to have the most fun."
She grinned, saw Spock looked
a little satisfied, too. She knew they
were both thinking neener-neener thoughts at Christine, only for very different
reasons. It should probably bother her
that Spock was still in love with his psycho-killer ex. But it didn't, really--Rand had learned to
live in the gray zone during the course of her life. The pens did that to a girl.
"Are we done?" she
asked Spock, then realized that the question could come across as very needy if
he chose to take it that way.
He didn't appear to give it
much thought. "I think not. We are, however, finished for the
moment." He rose in a graceful
move, pulling her up with him without appearing to have to think about that,
either. "Where are our
uniforms?"
The being laughed and snapped
his fingers. Their clothing appeared
before them. "You left them over
there. Very far over there." He winked at her.
"I take it," Spock
said, as he calmly stepped into his uniform pants. "That the tests are over."
A padd-like thing appeared,
hovering in the air in front of the being as he input something. "Yes.
Quite finished. You've been a
pleasure to study, by the way. So much
diversity on this planet."
"Uh, we're not really
normal representatives of this--"
Spock elbowed her. Hard.
The being looked at her, as
if assessing if he needed to run his tests again on more normal subjects.
"I mean thanks. On the behalf of normal folk on this crazy
little planet of ours." She pulled
her clothes on quickly. She was good at
this, used to making a quick escape.
Most werewolves were. You never
knew who you might wind up with if the mood took you. Or how much you might want to get away.
Not that she wanted to get
away from Spock. Which was sort of
unusual. She looked over at him, and he
turned, meeting her gaze. There was a
calmness to him that had been missing since he'd melded with V'ger. Had she helped him? She grinned, saw his expression lighten.
The being coughed
gently. "Very well, let's
go."
"So this is what you do?"
she asked. "You take people
prisoner and make them play weird games.
How ethical is that? And what
gives you the right--does everyone get the beach and sex?" She couldn't
help it if she was easily distracted.
The being shook his
head. "You were never really
prisoners. I would have let you go if
your stress levels had risen too high.
But I find that my experiments are more interesting if people feel they
have no choice in the matter. Their
true natures, if you will, tend to come out."
"I still think it's
rotten to do this." Then she looked
over at Spock. "Mostly."
"I'll take that under
advisement," the being said with a fond look at them both.
Then the beach disappeared,
and they ended up back at camp.
Christine and Kirk were standing close, both looking very relaxed, until
Christine studied Spock and suddenly seemed much less relaxed.
Rand turned to Spock,
"Is this a secret?"
"No." Again, he didn't even have to think about it.
Rand turned back to stare at
Christine, letting her lips curl into a smile.
A deeply satisfied smile.
Christine looked ready to
slay her.
"Did you enjoy that,
Janice?" Spock murmured.
"Oh, yeah."
"Good."
She looked at him, surprised
at his lack of censure. One of his
eyebrows went up, and he looked just a little bit mean. She laughed, and suddenly didn't care about
Christine or Kirk or what they thought about them.
She heard Angel and Spike
arguing over on their mat.
"You were, too,
looking. I saw you."
"Like I would ever check
that skinny thing out."
"Skinny? Oh, just because you've added a few pounds to
your arse in your old age."
"Are you saying I'm
fat?"
"Would it bother you if
I were? 'Cause, yeah, then I am."
Rand heard Kirk whisper to
Christine, "You are going to go down in flames on this one." Christine laughed softly, the way she used to
when she and Rand had been close enough to play games that required graceful
capitulation--not beating the holy crap out of each other.
"Your assistance has
been invaluable, gentle beings."
The being smiled at them all.
"I'll send you back where you belong."
"Wait a damn
minute," both Kirk and Angel said together, and then there was a flash of
light and the vampires were gone, and she was on the Enterprise, back in the
transporter room.
Vedder was there, manning the
panel. He looked up in surprise, then a
big smile broke out. "Chief! Thank god."
She realized her hair was
down and that she had sand in it. Oh
well, she looked hot with beach hair.
She could tell by the way Vedder's eyes dilated that he thought so,
too. "Yep, I'm back. So, what's been happening?"
"Uh, we've been looking
for you."
She checked their coordinates. "From space dock?"
"Well, I wasn't
looking. Commander Sulu and Doctor McCoy
and Commander Uhura took off in a shuttle."
"Better call them
back. Because we're home."
"Where were
you?" He moved closer.
She heard the door to the room open; Vedder didn't. She took a discreet sniff and smiled.
"Crewman Vedder,"
Spock said, an odd tone in his voice.
"I believe you have urgent business elsewhere."
Vedder looked over at the
doorway, seemed a little stunned to see Spock.
Or maybe he was just surprised that the first officer remembered his
name. When Spock gave a little cough,
his eyes very hard, Vedder fled.
She crossed her arms over her
chest. "Aren't you supposed to be
on the bridge?"
"We are in
spacedock. The ship will survive without
me." He moved closer. "And I was merely following the
Captain's lead, since Jim rushed off the bridge to see if Christine was in
sickbay."
"The intercom broken or
something?"
"An excellent
question. Apparently he wanted to check
on her in person. As I did
you.'" He took another few
steps. "I realize I made an
assumption when I woke that might not have been warranted."
She waited for him, letting
him stalk to her. He seemed to be
getting off on it, if the way his scent was changing was any indication. "You did?"
He nodded. "I said we were not done. But I neglected to ask you if you felt that
we were, as yet, unfinished."
"You did neglect that,
didn't you?" She laughed as he
pushed her against the panel.
"Careful. Wouldn't want to
transport anything inadvertently."
"Excellent point." He moved her until she was backed against an
area that presented no potential hazard to personnel or equipment. "You did not answer my question."
"Technically, it wasn't
a question." She saw his lips
twitch at her sass--he liked it. Spock
liked her smartass routine. Weird. "But, for the record, I agree that,
perhaps, we're not quite done."
"Perhaps?" He let an eyebrow rise, then said,
"Computer, lock doors." He
kissed her, and his hands roamed her body in a way that made her knees buckle
and her temperature rise.
"Damn." She touched his cheek. "Definitely. Definitely not done."
He shot her a look that could
only be called smug and said, "Unlock doors."
"You do realize this is
fraternization?"
He turned back to look at
her. "I do."
"And you don't
care?"
He seemed to consider
it. "In the world I knew, vampires,
slayers, and werewolves did not exist, and rules were easy to understand. This world--it is not so easy to define what
is wrong and what is right. Vampires and
werewolves are evil, yet they aren't.
Starfleet is good, yet two high ranking admirals may epitomize evil. There appear to be far greater things to
dwell on than if you and I should fraternize." He cocked his head. "Unless you wish to dwell on that?"
"Me? No way."
"Good."
Then he was gone.
A few minutes later, Vedder
came back in, checking out the room as if making sure Spock had really left. "Everything okay?"
She nodded, kept her smile to
herself, the way she'd learned to keep all her more base instincts under wraps
in the pens.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Never better." And, for once, her standard reply actually
meant just what it said.
--------------------
Christine finished packing
her bag. Two days of leave, and she and
Jim were going to Paris.
"Ready?" he asked
as he came out from the head.
"Yep."
He turned on his
terminal. "There's a message for
you. It's from Tolvar."
She walked over, waited for
him to call it up. All it said was,
"Need to talk about our mutual friends." The address wasn't San Francisco, it was
somewhere near Athens.
"We can pop over once we
get to Paris," Jim said softly.
She nodded. Then she looked over at him. "I forgot about it all." Kirsu.
The Watcher's Council and Nogura.
Lori and her quest.
"I know. Me, too." He grinned but it was a sad expression. "It was almost like a vacation. A weird, head-spinning vacation. But..."
"I know. Sort of relaxing in its way." She smiled as he pulled her close.
"Spock seems more
relaxed, too."
She nodded.
"You've been very good
about not commenting." He grinned
at her. "Is it eating you up?"
"No. You were right. I have to let it go."
"I was right? Can you repeat that into a recording
device?" He laughed at her expression.
"You. Were.
Right." She punctuated her
words with quick kisses.
"See. It'll be okay."
"If she hurts him, or
turns him into a werewolf, I will hunt her down and kill her."
"I suppose that's
fair." He pulled her close, holding
her. Then the terminal chimed and he
eased away. "It's Nogura."
"You'd better get
that." She started to move, and he
pulled her back.
"Where are you
going? Let's show him he's getting his
money's worth? The sorcerer-slayer dream
team."
She laughed, forcing the
levity from her face as he opened the connection.
"Jim? Chapel?
So you're back?"
Jim sounded very
nonchalant. "We're back. As are our would-be rescuers." Rescuers who had scoured the immediate area
and found nothing.
"Didn't give up any
secrets, did you?" Nogura moved
closer. "You don't suppose it was a
Romulan being?" He'd obviously
read their report--a report that had left off any mention of two vampires.
"Pretty sure he
wasn't." Jim looked at her. "Did he look Romulan to you, Doctor?"
"No, sir."
Jim shrugged. "We're going to start our leave,
sir. Unless there's anything else?"
"I wish you'd start the
damned search we discussed."
"We've been a little
busy stopping V'ger."
Nogura waved away that
piddling excuse. "Get to work once
the ship is back in shape. That's an
order, Jim. Not a suggestion."
"Aye, sir."
Nogura studied them
both. "Enjoy your leave." Then he signed off.
"What do you want to bet
he has us followed?" Jim rubbed his
eyes. "God, I'm feeling
paranoid."
"It was nice to leave it
behind, wasn't it?"
"It was." His look turned devilish. He keyed something into the terminal, then
selected something from a list.
"You don't mind if I check up on our bet?"
"Don't call
them." She tried to stop the call,
but the connection opened and the greenish receptionist answered.
"Angel Investigations,
we help the--well, hello there, slayer friend of my bosses. And who's the cutie with you?"
"Name's Jim." Jim leaned in, his voice dropping. "What's yours?"
She rolled her eyes. There was nothing he wouldn't do to win.
"I'm Fred," the
receptionist said, his eyes glazing over in Kirk-rapture.
"Well, Fred. We need to talk to your bosses. Would they happen to be there?"
"They're not."
"They're not, huh. Are they out on a job, Fred." Jim's voice caressed the name.
"No." The man looked lost.
"Fred, do you know where
they are?"
Fred leaned in. "No.
But they stormed out together a little while ago. Arguing, as usual. But something was--I don't know..."
"Different?" Jim
asked, leading the witness.
"Yeah. Different."
"Thanks, Fred. I hope we get to talk again."
Fred looked like he'd sell
his soul for that to happen. "I'll
tell them you called."
Jim smirked. "Tell Angel that Captain Kirk was
concerned, that I was checking up on my boys."
Christine elbowed him in the
ribs, but he was ready for her, absorbing the blow remarkably well. "We've got to go, Fred," she
said. "Just tell them hello,
okay?"
"Sure, sweet pea. Ciao."
Jim cut the connection and
turned to her. "Fifty credits, Ms.
Chapel."
"You didn't win
yet."
"Just give up while you
still have some dignity left."
She pulled him to her,
kissing him soundly. "I don't give
up, anymore. Remember?"
"I do." He touched her face, his fingers gentle, as
if trying to establish a connection--some link to their shared past, back to when
she learned to not give up, and so did he.
"I'm very glad you don't give up, anymore, Chris." He was pushing her back toward the bed.
"What about leave?"
"It'll wait
awhile."
It waited for quite a while.
FIN