Shot in the Dark

* * * * *
Chapter 44: Fire and Ice
* * * * *

“And who the bloody hell are you?” Spike tries to move closer, around the fire, but something unseen prevents him. He peers at the hazy figures through the fire.

The last voice that spoke answers him. “Temper, temper, William. All will be explained in due time.”

“He is impetuous.” The voice is dry and crackles over the fire.

A sigh from the first figure. “I know, Atropos. I made him so.”

“Made me? What are you talk - ” Spike tries to interrupt, but the three robed figures ignore him.

“Well, I will end him.” The old voice rises slightly.

“You will not. At least not until we talk to him. Be patient, ancient one.”

“Alright, that’s enough, ladies. What the bloody hell are you going on about over there? And who are you?” Spike squints, trying to see through the fiery haze with little success. He glances over his shoulder, but finds that the ring of fire surrounding the stone circle has grown higher, so Buffy, Giles and the rest of the Scoobies are mostly blocked from his sight. He turns back when one of the women speaks again. That their voices are female is the only information he has been able to determine.

“William, William. It will not to do to lose your temper with us. We are the Fates.” One woman steps forward, pushing the hood from her face. Her features remain blurred to him, but her voice is soft. “I am Clotho, the spinner.”

The second figure also removes her hood, revealing a cascade of dark hair and a voice slightly tempered by age. “And I am Lachesis, the measurer.”

A few seconds later, the last figure, hunched inside her dark robe, speaks with a voice dry as ash. “I am Atropos.”

Face drawn in confusion at the unfamiliar figures in front of him and still quite aggravated, Spike blurts out, “And who are you, the one who sews on the buttons?”

The moment of silence that follows tells Spike he made a wrong move. Complete and utter soundlessness drops over the group, even the crackle of the fire is silenced, though it continues to dance and throw sparks high into the sky. Dropping her hood to reveal a head of coarse gray hair and a face fully lined, Atropos moves around the fire towards Spike with a speed that causes him to take one step back.

Her voice bites into him. “I cut.”

She pulls a pair of silver shears from the depths of her robe, snapping them once in front of his face, causing another step back from the blond vampire. It is not her stature, as she is several inches smaller than him, nor the gleaming shears that make Spike retreat. It’s not even the power she obviously wields. No, it is her eyes - black, bottomless and completely devoid of human emotion - that make his borrowed blood run colder than usual.

“When the time is right, I end life. With one snip.” Demonstrating by clacking the shears one more time, she cracks her face into a small smile, almost sinister. Flames reflect on the silver as she slips the sharp blades back into her robe.

Spike swallows, determined not to be scared of a little old lady with some scissors, even if she can do what she says. Mustering up a bit of bravado, Spike replies, “Oh good, luv. Here I thought I had something to worry about. Haven’t been alive in some 130 years or so, so no worries for me, then.”

She leans closer, bringing those dead eyes nearer to his face. Rather than the normal human scents, Spike smells nothing, hears no heartbeat, feels no warmth. She is something well other than human. Her voice slightly slower, she speaks again, “You need not be alive. Your thread is still ours. All creatures that walk this earth come under my knife eventually.” She pauses, “William.” With that, Atropos steps back and when Spike blinks, the old creature is back on the far side of the fire. All the sound rushes back over him in a wave and Spike finds himself a bit weak in the knees.

He tries to avoid looking at the old creature, as she pulls her hood back over her head, leaving her face in shadow. Nobody speaks for a few moments, leaving Spike wondering if he should open his mouth again. Recent experience tells him to keep it shut but then again, he’s never one to do the logical thing.

“You birds planning on talking to me or just gonna let me slow roast over here?” He smirks a little, trying to not appear nervous. He doesn’t want to do anything that will keep him from getting back to Buffy. Rupert’s voice reading the prophecy - ‘His existence is the price’ echoes in his mind. Pretty high price. Might not do to piss these ladies off until he knows more.

“His spirit is strong.”

“He is a fool.”

“Atropos. Stop. We’ve only just begun.” Clotho turns to Spike and with a sweeping gesture of her robed arm, changes the world. The fire in the center of the circle extinguishes suddenly and three chairs appear behind the robed women. Spike looks around, trying to understand the oddest thing that has just occurred. Inside the circle of fire which still exists, it is daylight. Broad, midday sun shines down on him and yet...he is not burning. Squinting, he looks up. The sun is there alright, but he is not on fire. Grabbing wri wrist, Spike feels nothing. So, he’s still dead, but somehow Clotho moved her arm and turned the world upside down. Created daytime in the middle of night, doused fire and made objects appear from thin air with a wave of her hand. He swallows, hard. He was definitely going to have to behave.

* * *

Buffy strains to see what is happening inside the circle, but Spike is just a dark figure visible through the wall of flame. Just then, a beam of light shoots up from the circle, a solid cylinder of daylight dissolving into the night sky.

“SPIKE!!!” Buffy pulls away from Giles, rushing closer to the fire until she feels its heat flush on her face. “SPIKE!” The dark figure turns and moves closer to Buffy until she can make him out. “Oh, thank God. He’s not dust. Spike, can you hear me?” He lifts his hand, but no words pass through the fire. Clearly, there is magic in this fire, not just heat. Buffy lifts her hand towards the fire, only flinching back when the heat grows too intense. She feels hands on her arms as she is dragged away from the flames. Looking up as the cool night air comes over her again, she sees the concerned faces of Xander and Giles.

“Hey now, Buffster, you scared us for a minute there. Thought you were going to do something flammable. You okay?” The scent of singed skin and hair is acrid.

“I’m o..okay.” Buffy gives Xander a weak smile before turning to her Watcher, whose gaze is fixed on the fire for the moment. “Giles, what the hell is going on in there?! First, he is drawn into the circle, then this wall of flame shoots up, trapping him. I think there are some people in there with him. I swore I saw something when that loud sound happened. And now, it’s, what, high noon in there and he’s not dusty? What the hell does this have to do with the prophecy?” Giles lets go of her arm and starts to circle the fire, keeping a safe distance.

“Giles? Hello?” Buffy gets to her feet and follows Giles. “What do you see?”

As Giles reaches the halfway point around, he puts his hand to his forehead. “Dear lord. I’m a fool.”

Buffy’s voice pitches higher as she reaches his side. He has stopped walking and his eyes are still fixed on the fiery circle. Her eyes fix on his worried face before turning to follow his gaze. “Hey, are those chairs? Those look like chairs. Who is sitting in them? For god’s sake, Giles, why are you a fool?”

His voice soft, Giles turns to Buffy and she meets his now worried eyes. The flames flicker off his glasses, giving him an otherworldly appearance. “I missed the most obvious interpretation of the prophecy. So focused on what it would mean to Spike, to the world, to humanity, that I was careless. I missed one key word.”

“Please, just tell me.”

“It is not fate which has brought Spike here tonight, Buffy. No, it is The Fates. Plural.” He pauses. Buffy studies him.

“And? What’s that?

Giles mouth twists in a small smile. “Bloody American education system. Never teach you the classics. Not what, Buffy. Who. The Fates are figures from ancient Greek mythology. Three who control the lives and well, naturally, the fates of mortals. And sometimes, the Greek gods, too.”

Buffy frowns as she looks at Giles’ worried face, eyebrows drawn together. “Giles, needing more info here. Remember, educated in the good old U.S. of A.? Didn’t study this mythology stuff. So, they are like...what? Not demons.”

“No, Buffy. If only. They are goddesses. With all the power that entails.”

“Oh.” Buffy stares with Giles towards the backs of the chairs, unable to see the figures in them. “And they are in there with Spike, now? That’s...not good.” Face drawn in ever increasing fear, Buffy crosses her arms and shivers, though it’s not the cold that makes her tremble.

“Indeed.”


* * *

The three women settle into their thrones and look at Spike across what is now simply a bare central stone. The sunlight washes over it, and a light breeze stirs him.

“Nice trick, luv.”

Ignoring his words, Clotho speaks, “You are not exceedingly fearful, William. Why? Surely you recognize the power in front of you?”

“Yeah, but I figure doesn’t matter if I’m scared or not, see? You birds are going to do what you want, so I might as well just go with it.”

A trace of something like wonder cracks Clotho’s youthful face before she returns to her inscrutable expression.

“Interesting.” Lachesis looks back and forth between her two fellow goddesses. “He is most unusual.”

“Of course. That is why he is trouble. Why we are here. Or have you forgotten so quickly?” Atropos’ voice grates like metal on metal, making the hairs stand up on the back of Spike’s neck.

“Speaking of that, why are you here? Why am I here? None of us are enjoying it, so doesn’t seem...”

“Be quiet, William. All will become known in time.” Clotho’s gray eyes grow cloudy. “In our time, of course.”

She smiles, but there is no warmth in this expression, and Spike finds the unfamiliar sunlight does nothing to take away the chill.


*********************
Author’s Note: Remember me?? Obviously, there has been a huge delay between chapters, due to lots of RL stuff conspiring to keep me from writing. I hope to return to a more regular update schedule now, so hang in there! And thanks for reading! -Tiana