End of Days

Title:

Title: End of Days
Chapter: Chapter Twelve – The Dragon
Author: Queen Akasha
Rating: NC17 in some chapters


Summary: B/S. Season Seven. Our Spikey isn’t a welsher, is he? No way!!! He’s a "man" of his word.


Disclaimer: I own everything. Joss W. is a semi-imaginative author who writes and reads fan-fiction, and loves the shows I create, but he has no claim to anything. (Oh, wait, that’s me. HE’S the one who owns it all. Oh, poop!!)


Spoilers: This is my fictional season seven. Anything up to the end of S6 is fair game.
Distribution: I can’t imagine why you’d want to, but it’s yours. Just let me know so I can be happy.
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"Well, pet, it was all about a bet………."
 
 
 
 
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"You could give me back my soul?" Spike asks Flagg incredulously. "With no catches? Like, I have to give it to you when I’m done with it?"
Flagg laughs. "Well, that would be an added bonus, but, no, it would be yours free and clear. IF you win our little wager. If you lose, though, you remain soul-less, and become the commander of my friend’s army. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"
"What do I have to do," Spike asks.
"Do?" Flagg giggles inanely. He glances at the large dark man behind him. The man grins, a flash of white against the darkness. "You are Spike, Master Vampire, Slayer of Slayers, killer of multiple demons. Our little task will be NOTHING for the likes of you."
Spike doesn’t like his tone. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t like anything about this "man". He’s dealt with many types of evil in his un-life, and Flagg terrifies him more than he’s ever thought possible. "Enlighten me, then, mate," Spike requests.
For the first time, the dark man speaks. His deep voice reminds Spike of Darth Vader, the evil bloke in the Star Wars movies. "Have you ever met a dragon, Spike?"
Spike laughs. "A dragon? What d’ya think I am, a bleeding knight? Dragons are bad news."
"Yes," the dark man replies, "but they have interesting parts inside, parts that I need."
"So you want me to play Saint George and slay the dragon? I don’t think so, pal," Spike turns to go.
"Wait," Flagg says quietly. Spike suddenly can’t move, and this scares him more than anything. "Turn around." Spike slowly and reluctantly turns around, not sure if he’s doi doing it of his own volition. "Not even for a soul?" Flagg wheedles. "So you can impress your girly?"
Spike cocks his head. "What ‘interesting parts’ did you have in mind, mate?"
 
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Spike can’t believe that he’s agreed to face a dragon. A DRAGON of all things. He’s never seen one, and he’d hoped to keep it that way. When he was a much younger vampire, he’d thought that dragons were only the stuff of legends. He now knew that they were too real. Dragons were rare and magical creatures, fetching millions of dollars on the supernatural black market. Their blood, scales, and other parts were important ingredients in the darkest magic. But the dragon’s heart, well, that was a prize. In the whole of Spike’s existence, he’s only heard of one being captured. A host of vampires and demons had been sacrificed for that heart. And here he is, one vampire alone, about to sneak into the wyrm’s lair to try and cut out it’s heart and deliver it to Flagg and the black man. He must be crazy.
Spike licks his lips and hefts his sword, quietly stalking his prey. The caverns that the dragon calls home are deep in an abandoned silver mine in Mexico. His sharpened senses allow him to barely see his way, but the foul stench of brimstone and feces threatens to choke him. *Not a very fastidious bloke,* he thinks, glad that he doesn’t need to breathe. However the reek seeps into his nostrils and permeates his skin. He’s glad that he left his duster outside – he wouldn’t want to have to pitch it if this odor got trapped in it.
His heightened sense of hearing picks up a rumbling purr from deeper in the cave. He thihis his eyes can detect a faint glow, and without hesitation he follows the tunnel down. The rankness grows fouler as he continues downwards, making him believe that he’s on the right trail. A chamber opens up on his right, and he enters stealthily.
*Sssspike,* an alien voice hisses in his brain. *Welcome. I’ve been ex-sssspecting you.*
 
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Buffy interrupts. "Do you mean to tell me that dragons are real, they have language, speak English, AND they’re telepathic? Oh, and, it just happened to know your name?"
Spike and JB both smile at her. "Yes, love," Spike answers, "All of the above. It knew my name and language because I knew them, of course. Telepath and all. And for a girl who’s battled legends like Dracula, I’m surprised at your disbelief. This dragon was special in other ways as well………"
 
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"Where are you?" Spike yells, startled by the voice invading his skull.
*I’m here, warrior,* the voice echoes, and then Spike sees an impossibly long figure gliding towards him, weaving in and out sinuously through the stalagmites and stalactites. The stench intensifies, until it’s too much for him, and he chokes. The dragon takes this opportunity to blast him with fire, scorching half of his bo"Too"Too right," Spike says. "We fight, then."
The fiery blast starts a seam of coal in the wall burning. The light of the flickering flames allows Spike to see his opponent more clearly. The dragon is beautiful, with iridescent scales in a rainbow of colors, mostly purple and red. Its long, slender body is at least thirty feet in length. It has incongruously tiny transparent wings sprouting from its shoulder blades. Its six inch claws glint wickedly in the flickering flame, and it sports a majestic ridge starting at its forehead and running all the way down its back, in a fiery crimson color. Its head is shaped somewhat like a crocodile’s, but, oh, the eyes. They are huge and multi-faceted, like a diamond. They glint rainbow colors of light at Spike, as he tries to circle for a better fighting advantage.
The dragon dips its head down low and tries to blast him again, but Spike ducehinehind a column of rock. His fighting strategy has always been, well, no strategy. Without pausing to reconsider, he leaps upon its scaly back, stabbing towards the eyes. *NOT a good idea,* he thinks, as the dragon throws its head, catching the tip of the blade between its eyes, and tossing the sword to the ground. Spike, unarmed, jumps off, looking for some type of weapon. He hears the dragons sharp intake of breath, but no accompanying blast of fire. He looks down to search for his sword, and sees where he’s standing. "Bloody hell," he says, "you’re a mama."
 
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"A mama dragon?" Buffy says. "She had babies?"
"Well, pet, some babies and some eggs. They were just hatching. Minerva, (that’s her name), was just protecting her kiddies. There aren’t many lady dragons, y’know, and they don’t often let the male dragons, well, y’know," he stalled, feeling embarrassed.
"Mate with them?" offered JB helpfully, in his deep voice. "Yes, that’s why the dragon population has been going downhill for centuries. The females are fiercely territorial, and they only come into heat about once every fifty years , so it’s just a matter of luck if a male happens to stray into their area while they’re, shall we say, in a receptive mood?"
"Yes, that’s itctlyctly!" Spike exclaimed excitedly. "Minerva explained to me how important her little brood was."
"So Minerva and you had a little chat, did you?" Buffy was amused. "I can almost picture you two setting down over tea and crumpets, discussing babies."
"Slayer," Spike laughed, "it wasn’t quite like that. Although, once you got over the part about her being a dragon, Minerva was quite a charming hostess ……."
 
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"I’m ssssso glad I didn’t eat you, Sssspike," the dragon purrs flirtatiously. "Although you do look good enough to, well, you know."
"I’m glad too, m’dear," smiles Spike. They are chatting at ease while Spike strokes two of the new babies – cuddly little things vaguely reminiscent of scaly puppies - that are nowhere near as fearsome as their mother. "Your family is lovely," he compliments, wishing he could take one back for the Nibblet. What a pet that would be!
"Yesssss," she replies. "I felt your con-sssssern for them when you landed in my nessssst. That sssssstopped me from in-sssssinerating you. You’re sssssstrange for a vampire, Ssssspike."
"Too right," he replies. "Uh oh, don’t know what I’m gonna tell that Flagg bloke," he remembers his situation. He has explained his "mission" to Minerva.
"You are to bring him a dragonssssss heart?" she asks.
"Yep – and if I don’t I’m gonna have to lead some bleedin’ army from hell," he replies. "But there’s no way I’m gonna fight you again, old girl. You’re much too beautiful to be without your heart." Spike honestly admires the dragons beauty – once you get past the smell, which Minerva has assured him all nesting dragons have for protection of the fledglings – she is unsurpassed in loveliness.
Minerva cocks her head coyly at him. He is, after all, a most handsome specimen, and she can feel his true regard for her. "I think I may be able to help you, warrior," she purrs.
 
 
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"Now you’re flirting with a dragon, Spike?" Buffy didn’t know whether to be jealous, amused or worried. "Is that dangerous?"
Spike smiled at her and hugged her tightly to him with one arm. "No competition there, love," he grinned. "Although, if you were to grow wings, you may have a chance."
She punched him backhanded, fairly hard, in the stomach, causing him to wince slightly. "I’m a one woman vamp, you know that Slayer," he said seriously.
"I know, Spike," she said, feeling slightly ashamed. "How did she help you?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"Well," Spike said, "one of her pups had died shortly after being hatched. She gave him to me."
"She gave you her dead baby?" Buffy was unbelieving. "Why would she do that?"
"Buffy," JB answered her, "dragons are different from humans. Once something is dead, the body has no value. They believe that the essence carries on, but the body is just a useless shell. However, that was indeed a great favour she did you, Spike." JB looked at Spike questioningly.
"Yeah, I know," the vampire replied. "I guess she liked me."
"I’d guess so too," JB smiled. "But I’d also guess that you weren’t so popular when you returned."
"Got that part straight," Spike winced, remembering.
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"I asked for a dragons heart!!!" Flagg screams insanely. "A WHOLE dragons heart. What the FUCK is this????" He throws down the bag containing the dead fledgling.
"Well, mate, I did you one better," Spike drawls, trying to hide his terror. "I brought you the whole thing."
"But I needed a DRAGONS HEART!!!" Flagg shrieks, his voice raising on every word. "A FULLY GROWN, FULLY TESTED DRAGONS HEART!!! This is NO GOOD to me. No good at all!!!"
The black man watches silently from behind the desk. Flagg glances at him, and nods. He makes a visible effort to control himself.
"Well, Mr. Spike," he says, grinning the grin that sends huge shivers down Spike’s spine. Spike has never felt himself to be a coward, but this man scares him so bad that if Spike was human, he’d have wet his pants by now. "What are we going to do about this?"
"I lived up to my end of the bargain, mate," Spike blusters. "I brought you a dragons heart like you asked. Now if you’d just give me my soul I’ll be out of here."
"Oh, no, Mr. Spike," Flaggs’ grin becomes impossibly wider. Spike thinks that if he smiles any more the top of his head will fall off. "I can’t do that. You see, I need you. WE need you. Truthfully, you’ll like leading our army. You get to travel the world, see new places, cut swaths of destruction and all that."
Spike shakes his head. "No can do, mate. I’ve got places to go, and people to see. Tell you what I’ll do. Since you’re not satisfied with what I brought you, wecallcall it a draw. We’ll both walk away, and you can even keep the wee dragon."ike ike glances behind the desk at the enormous black man. Red lights have begun to spark in his eyes. Flaggs’ irises look like a kaleidoscope – swirling and changing in strange and lovely patterns and colours. The sense of evil is palpable in the dank room.
"Spike, my friend," Flagg says charmingly, "I’d like you to be our guest for awhile." Four burly demons enter, seemingly unsummoned. "Please show Mr. Spike to our luxury suite," Flagg titters. "I’m sure he’ll fin sui suitable to his tastes."
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"So that’s why the prison?" asked Buffy. Spike nodded. "Wow. Who IS this Flagg guy anyhow?"
JB took a deep breath. Suddenly, Buffy jumped up. "Oh my God, GILES!" she yelled. "He’ll be worried SICK. I have to call him."
Spike and JB listened while the operator assisted Buffy to get Giles on lin line. "Hi, Giles, it’s me," they heard her say. "Yes, I’m fine." Pause. "Yes, he’s here with me." Pause. "Well, I’ve got some stuff to tell you ….. "
Spike looked at JB. "You wouldn’t have a fag on you, would you mate?" he asked.
"Certainly," said JB, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Would you care to step outside?"
As Spike stepped out and closed the door, he heard Buffy say "Giles, about Spike, well, he and I, um, well, we, um, we’re, um, ….." He shut the door tightly, wanting to give her the privacy she needed.
JB lit Spike’s smoke with a gold lighter that he produced from an inner pocket. He lit up himself, inhaling with pure pleasure. "Ahhh," he sighed, holding the cigarette away from him and looking at the smoldering tip. "What a great invention tobacco is."
Spike nodded agreement, inhaling hugely.
"Y’know," JB continued, "If you really want your soul back, there’s no reason why you can’t just have it."
Spike, for the first time in over a hundred years, choked on his cigarette.
 
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TBC
 
 
 
 
I love dragons. They’re so cool. Almost as cool as Mr. Spikey. And JB. He’s pretty cool as well. Now that we’re all cooled off – (it’s a hot day outside) – what do you think? Please review if you’re so inclined. Helps me to write faster. And there’s LOADS of stuff to come. We haven’t seen the last of our friends Flagg and Celex, to be sure. And we have to go back to Sunnydale at some point. Wonder how Giles is taking the news. >)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
OK – I’m not a geologist. I don’t know if coal and silver go together. I doubt it, but it’s my imagination so ………….