Roses for Lucifer

Roses for Lucifer

Chapter 7

Author's note: thanks to my beta Cile for doing such a great job in so little time!

"Are you okay?"

Faith was standing in the fresh air that the building’s roof provided, the billions of lights of the City of Angels at her feet. "I'm okay," she replied, "I'm just angry!"

"I know," Spike said.

"It's so unfair. I'm a Slayer too, if someone is supposed to have a part in this, it should be me! But then Buffy shows up again, and her watcher tells me, since I quit, I have no claims to saving the world! Hello?"

"Unfortunately, quitting doesn't always mean breaking with old habits," the vampire sighed.

Faith turned around and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Spike slowly walked to her side and stared down at the city streets below. "You know what I mean. I gave up even the idea of killing the day I got my soul back, but since this started, I've wanted to rip Angel's throat out."

"Why?" Faith looked puzzled.

"The way he looks at Buffy and the way she looks at him. My eyesight is still pretty good, Faith."

Faith shook her head. "That's simply not true! Of course, she still feels something for Angel. He was her first love, right? But look, what you've been through together. I'm sure it's gonna come back to her. I mean, how long has it been since you’ve seen each other?"

"Seven years, three months, seventeen days, twelve hours and twenty-five, no, twenty-six minutes."

Faith was astonished. "Wow. Pretty good memory."

"That's the tragedy of our relationship, I remember all of it. And Buffy doesn't."

Faith nodded slowly.

The flickering lights on the streets brought the city to a pulsating life. Spike kept watching it for a few moments.

"Angel and B could never get back together, even if they wanted to," Faith said slowly. "You know yourself what first love is like, all roses and fireworks... like you and Dru."

Spike lit a cigarette. "Yeah... those were the days... black roses... burning Prague..."

"Okay, maybe not just like you and Dru. I mean... I'm no good at pep talks, okay? But ... Angel will always be special to her, and she'll always love him, one way or another. No one can change that. And whatever her feelings for Angel may be, she's gonna end up with you, Spike."

"I know," he replied. "I just wish I had met her first."

An embarrassed cough behind them interrupted their conversation.

"Wes, what can we do for you?" Faith asked, relieved she did not have to continue this conversation.

"I have to talk to you. About David and Buffy." He breathed deeply. "I don't trust them."

Faith's face lit up. "Tell me more."

*

After the conversation with Wesley, Spike joined the research team. "Willow, do you have a moment? I need your help."

Willow frowned. "Sure." She rose and followed him into one of the rear offices. "How can I help you?"

"With some minor magic," he replied.

Willow's eyes sparkled. "What do you have in mind? Floating pencils? A bowl of sunshine? Turning someone into a rat? If it's that, I'd rather not..."

For a moment, Spike considered the advantages of turning Angel into a rat, then he remembered what he came for. "No, much easier. I just want to see Buffy."

"That is easy," Willow replied, "She's in Angel's apartment. Downstairs to the left."

"That's not quite what I mean," Spike said, "I would like to see her through some magic. I heard of a spell with a mirror, or a bowl of water, that can make you see someone you think of."

"Okay, that's something even some new age freak without any magic whatsoever can do if she tries hard enough." She got up and fetched a mirror with strange symbols in a long forgotten language on it. "Oz sent me this one from Tibet," she explained with a certain pride, "I always have it in my handbag. Normally, I use it to check my make-up, but it's perfect for this."

Willow laid the mirror out carefully. Then she sprinkled some herbs on it. "That's just for the scent. Wearing a moon stone can clarify the vision, but it's not really needed."

She wiped her hand over the mirror. "Okay. Think of Buffy. Some strong memory you share with her. Something you both remember. Concentrate hard on that memory."

Spike closed his eyes. He knew which memory. Life's not a song. Life isn't bliss, Life is just this: it's living. You have to go on living, So one of us is living.

"Ready?" Willow asked.

Spike nodded and opened his eyes.

Willow's hand closed around his wrist and guided it over the mirror.

"Show me Buffy," Spike said quietly. His tension rose as he looked into the mirror and saw images forming over the shiny surface.

They saw a luxurious bedroom, a black dress hung out at the wardrobe, and a crumpled burgundy dress tossed away on the floor. The image moved towards the bed.

"Ta-da, there she is," Willow announced proudly, "Well done, Spike! See? Easy." Then she watched more closely. "Whoops, there is someone else," the witch noticed. Slowly, she recognized Angel's features. And other parts of him she had never wanted to see in that much detail. "Uh oh..."

Spike nodded. He had thought so. "All right, I've seen enough."

"Wait!" Willow exclaimed. "There must be something wrong with my mirror..." She frowned and stared at the silvery surface. "What are they doing? I didn't know that was possible... Have you ever...? No, wait, don't tell me!"

Spike hastily wiped the mirror with his hand. The images faded and left Willow in utter confusion.

"Did I miss out on anything?" Willow asked, "Angel's apartment looked completely refurbished, and what about the curse, anyway?"

"This was not Angel," Spike said bleakly, "And I don't know who the woman downstairs with Angel is, but it is definitely not Buffy."

Willow's eyes widened. "Someone in her body? Like that one time with Faith? And the real Buffy is somewhere else with... Angel? Or Angelus? But how?"

"No bloody idea," Spike replied, "But I promise you I'll find out."

"Spike, we have to talk to Faith about this."

*

Meanwhile, in another dimension...

"Willow, do you have a moment?" Spike entered the room without knocking or being invited.

"You? What do you want?" Willow asked suspiciously. I should never have invited him in in the first place!

"Is Tara in?"

"No, she isn't," Willow replied uneasily.

"Where is she?"

"Away on business."

"Ah, away on business," Spike repeated mockingly, "She doesn't happen to be in Angelus's quarters, giving him a dress that is supposed to strengthen the blood bond between himself and Buffy? A dress designed especially to drive her into madness so she completely succumbs to his will and tells him all he wants to know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Willow said stiffly, desperately trying to think of a spell to rid herself of the vampire before he could use his knowledge. Unfortunately, most spells designed for that purpose required stronger magic than hers. What the hell was taking Tara so long?

"Of course not," Spike said, advancing on her, "And you're not a lesbian either. I've been around a couple o' years, Will, I can smell the magic in this place. Wasn't too bad a deal for Angelus, exchanging the hot-tempered Faith against sweet little Buffy - he could manipulate her more easily. Wouldn't it be a shame if someone told her he's been using her?"

"You wouldn't dare," Willow hissed.

"Bet I would," Spike replied, "What would she do, kill him? And who would be left in charge of our sweet little family then?"

"You're not a born leader," Willow snapped, "And you're a lousy vamp!" She lifted her hand and thrust a bolt of lightning at him.

Spike evaded the attack and went into game face. "Famous last words," he said and lunged himself at the witch. Willow shrieked and turned herself into a rat to escape.

Spike was faster than the small animal and caught Willow.

He took the cage in which Amy was busy with her running wheel. "You've got company," he remarked sarcastically, locking Willow in. "Well, let's see. If my name was Tara, and if I were a rat's girlfriend, where would I keep my elemental spells?"

*

Buffy did not understand why she had difficulty steadying her steps, why her head was still spinning, but since she was wearing the black dress, which was obviously less tight than the one in burgundy, at least she could breathe properly again. Angelus was in high spirits, and she sensed his anticipation, though she was not sure what it was that set his blood on fire.

As she was walking to the club by his side, the minions showed them their respect. Faith had been wrong; she was treated as his equal.

Upon entering the club, Buffy realized that Sam obviously had not been the only one to think over what to wear for the 18th night. Everyone was dressed up as for a great reception, a once in a lifetime event.

Spike and Cordelia were the first ones to greet them, followed by Dawn and Andrew. Buffy had to remind herself that this was not her sister when Dawn was checking out Spike's rear while Andrew's arm was around her waist. To her surprise, Buffy noticed she was getting extremely jealous.

While Cordelia involved Angelus in a pointless chatter, Spike complimented Buffy for the choice of her dress and bent over to kiss her cheek. His voice sank down to a whisper. "Upper chamber of the east turret. I'm ready when you are."

Buffy acknowledged with no movement that she had understood. She knew Angelus was watching her, and, she would let him proceed with whatever he had planned for this night and then confront him with her plan when the time arrived.

"Nice party," Spike remarked coldly.

"Thank you, Spike," Angelus replied, equally emotionless.

"So sorry Faith can't be here," the younger vampire replied provokingly, "to protect you," he added, the threat barely concealed.

Angelus tightened his embrace around Buffy's shoulders. "Believe me, Spike, I am perfectly satisfied with things as they are." He kissed her neck. "And Buffy is as well, aren't you, lover?"

"So glad to hear it," Spike said, "There's nothing more heart-warming than the glory of new love."

Buffy tried to ignore the open sarcasm in the words. Somewhere in the east turret, her ticket home was awaiting her. He will never love you back. Make sure you can live with it.

She turned to Angelus, her tone deliberately soft and complying. "Would you do me a favor?"

Angelus looked at her with surprise. "Granted," he agreed.

Buffy's expression was perfectly innocent and adoring, but her heart was racing in her chest. She was praying silently Angelus would not notice it in the crowd. "Whatever I want?"

Angelus was in high spirits. Nothing could go wrong tonight. "Anything."

Buffy took his hand and kissed it. She smiled. "Would you sing for me?"

He looked puzzled. Around them, desperate groans of physical pain and the anticipation of torture were heard.

No, please, no! Spike thought in agony. I really don't want to hear this!

"I don't think..." Angelus began hesitantly.

Buffy put on the most innocent look she was capable of. She had spotted the Host among the guests. "Please. You promised! And I'd love to hear you sing." She looked around challengingly, assuming a threatening tone. "Anyone disagree?"

Slowly, the guests began clapping. Everyone had heard of Faith's fate by now. Some sycophants even began to encourage Angelus with their pleas to sing.

"If you insist," he finally complied.

Buffy cast him a grateful look full of devotion. "You won't regret it," she promised.

"No, but we will," Spike whispered to Dawn.

"If we are lucky, it will be the last time he has something to sing about," Dawn whispered back confidently. "By the way, any idea where Willow went? She promised to give me a new haircolor for tonight!" She turned to Spike. "Have you seen her?"

Spike chuckled, thinking about the rat in her wheel. "No, sorry, lamb. Would you care for a dance?"

As Angelus made his way to the stage, Buffy sought out the Host. She found him among a group of extremely attractive females, all trying to persuade him to let their lovers sing at Caritas so they could reassure the girlfriends of their faithfulness. The Host obviously enjoyed the evening. Soon he no longer would. The girls respectfully gave way as Buffy approached.

"Buffy, good to see you again," the Host greeted her.

"Pleased to meet you as well," Buffy replied cheerfully and clasped the demon's hand. At least that was what it seemed to the people around them. The Host gasped as the painful grip threatened to break his hand. "No more games," Buffy whispered, "I know what you are, and I know about your abilities. What do you know about me? What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," the Host exclaimed, causing Buffy to increase the pressure on his hand, while she kept smiling openly at him, a smile that was betrayed by the determination in her eyes.

"All right, all right," the Host whimpered, "Listen, I got nothin' to do with whatever's going on between the boss and you! I couldn't read you. I just told him to be careful, and that I felt you wanted to go home."

The audience started to applaud as the music set in.

The answer did not fully satisfy her. "And?"

"And I told him about your... partiality to him. Would you now kindly release my arm?"

It took Buffy less than a minute to recognize the tune. It was "Mandy", and it was clearly above his limited singing abilities.

Buffy smiled to herself at the choice of the song –Next time I'll ask him to use full playback – as she stepped behind the demon and wrung his arm behind his back. A painful pang shot through the Host's muscles. "I release you when I choose," she said. "Now read him first."

"You want WHAT?" he burst out. "I can't!"

The sound of bone was heard as the Host tried to repress tears of pain. "My shoulder!" he screamed, but nobody ran to his rescue, as everyone was concentrated on the spectacle on stage.

"I can put it back into place," she said matter-of-factly, "It all depends on you."

Lorne raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if hoping for assistance from whatever powers there might be. "I’m telling you I can't read him!" He closed his eyes in pain and listened to the music. "I don't see anything," the Host finally said. "I'm sorry. I told you before. I can't read him."

"That's impossible!" Buffy complained, "You could read me! He's singing, well, at least trying to sing, a love song, and you can't see if he means it?"

"The soul is the secret," the Host replied, "I can see into people's souls when they sing, so it worked fine with you. But he doesn't have a soul. I have read demons before, but there has to be some emotion left so I can read someone. No soul, no feelings, no reading, it's as simple as that. I can see neither love nor hatred. He is incapable of both."

Buffy put the Host's shoulder back into place. She had known it all before, but secretly she had hoped to prove Drusilla wrong. She was no longer interested in the performance.

*

"You've got mail!" The computer announced with the untiring enthusiasm of a machine. Fred was relieved at the break. Their conversation was much too complicated. She resumed her place at the computer while the others continued their discourse.

"Come on, Willow, when I was walking around in B's body, Tara knew it wasn't me, although we'd never met before! You must know something's wrong with Buffy!" Faith insisted.

"Buffy's your rival, maybe you just see what you want to see." Willow reminded her.

"That's ridiculous, she is not my rival," Faith protested.

Willow shrugged. " I don't feel it. Buffy definitely is Buffy, she is totally convinced of being Buffy, and her aura is Buffy's as well, perfectly balanced. Sorry, it's all I can tell you!"

"And I know she is not Buffy," Spike said, trying to block the image of Buffy and Angelus together, "I saw Buffy in the mirror, and wherever Buffy is, the woman here is a liar!"

"Angel must not trust David," Wesley agreed, "That man does not know a single word of Latin, and he's supposed to have a degree in it!"

Fred frowned. She printed the pages in question and handed them to Wesley. "This is the research my friend at the FBI did for me," she announced.

Spike was astonished. "You have friends at the FBI?"

"Well, we were study buddies, but she took another path. I asked her to search their data base for David's name, and guess what she found."

Wesley examined the printout closely. He held up the report. "You will all agree this picture is not the man who is sitting in Angel's office at the moment."

They gathered curiously around the paper.

"If he is, I need to know his surgeon's address," Giles murmured.

"But it says it's David! And Fred's friend found this picture once again, in the FBI database – an unidentified corpse which was pulled from the Missouri about one and a half years ago, while David was supposed to be on vacation."

"He killed Buffy's real watcher and took his place," Spike concluded.

"And the false Buffy is conspiring with him," Wesley added in a grave voice.

"But I still don't get how that's possible!" Spike interfered. "When Willow says it's not a body switch, and not a demon, and the real Buffy can't be localized anywhere on the world by witchcraft..."

"It's a parallel universe," Fred said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"A WHAT?" Faith asked, flabbergasted.

Fred shrugged. "Have you never seen Star Trek? The episode where Kirk is marooned in a hostile parallel world, where he took the position as Captain of the Enterprise by killing former commander Christopher Pike?"

"Oh, yeah, I love that one!" Xander agreed enthusiastically, "Spock is so sexy with his beard! Not that... I'd fancy him or anything." He blushed as he felt everyone's eyes on him.

Spike shook his head. "Grow up!"

Fred lowered her voice and whispered to Xander: "He should've worn it all through the show! Besides, he's always been much more sexy than Kirk!"

"Could we get things figured out?" Wesley interrupted, "We have a serious situation on our hands! Fred, are you positive that Willow and Spike might have seen a parallel universe?"

"Of course I am," she said, "See, if we consider string theory and supersymmetry, we..."

"Is there any way we can find Buffy?" Faith cut her off.

"Well, if the Buffy in Angel's office is from the same parallel universe to which our Buffy disappeared, we could ask her."

"Great idea," Faith remarked, "Hey, Buffy, we know you're the evil twin, tell us where you're from so we can send you back to hell!"

"Any way we can find our Buffy and contact her?" Willow asked.

Fred sighed. "There are infinite possibilities. To cut a long story short: no. Without knowing where to go - she would have to find us."

Dawn looked worried. "So we can't do anything for Buffy at the moment? Spike, where did you see her?" she asked Spike, "Was she in any danger?"

Willow colored.

Spike cleared his voice. "No, she looked ok."

Wesley rose from his chair. "Considering everything we know, it must be our first duty to detain Buffy and David to make sure they do no harm. Angel must not allow the destruction of the amulet and the dagger. I assume they want to use their magic energies to perform the Curse of Seth themselves. The destruction of two items that powerful will set free enough energy to complete the ritual. We must warn Angel."

Wesley grabbed his jacket to rush out in the corridor.

He backed away as he saw a rifle pointed at him.

"Whom do we have here? Angel's considerate friends all gathered for his well-being! What a pity your knowledge won't help you," David said. "Walk back into the room – slowly. Keep your hands up where I can see them." He asked over his shoulder: "Everything ready for the barrier?"

Buffy stepped into sight with an ancient magic tome. "By the time they figure out a way out of this room, Angel will have destroyed the items."

Dawn realized with a shudder they spoke the truth. Even if Angel had his own doubts about their story, he would rather forfeit his own salvation and destroy the items than to run the risk he might be wrong.

*

Angelus drew Buffy up on the stage with him. Spike helped her climb up the steps in her luxurious dress and remained close by. He would not miss for the world what was about to come. Buffy was entirely calm, for she had finally made up her mind. Spike had assured her the spell was ready. Once they had returned to her own universe, her Willow would find a way to free Angelus from the curse. If only she could maintain her masquerade for one more night, just a few more hours, this world would not concern her any longer. She could not think about how her friends would react if she brought Angelus home with her. The idea never entered her mind that she might have been under the influence of a powerful spell connecting her to the vampire she both loved and loathed. It was the way it had always been: the mission was what mattered.

Angelus stepped to the front of the stage, presenting Buffy by his side like a valuable trophy. "If you thought this was the most important event of this night, I will exceed your expectations," he announced. "I told you this was the 18th night. The night that will change everything for us. This is the celebration of our victory." He signalled his minions to lift the heavy curtains behind him.

Buffy held her breath.

The stage behind the curtain had been prepared for a scenario of the medieval Spanish inquisition.

"Light has laid siege on darkness for too long. Now the old order has been re-established, and the authors of the uprising will expiate their crimes in fire."

Buffy looked around and saw the Master, Darla, and Drusilla, being led onto the stage under the howls and praises of the audience to this horrible spectacle.

Drusilla caught her gaze. Her expression was hollow and full of disappointment.

Buffy went pale. A public execution of the leaders of the rebellion. So that was what he had in mind. "Let's get out of here," she pleaded.

Angelus kissed her forehead. "We can't go now, lover, we still have work to do." He let go of her hand to talk to Andrew about whether everything was prepared for the execution.

"But how did he find them?" Buffy wondered with unspeakable terror, "The area around Hope is so well-watched!"

"It was you," Spike replied, "You led him straight to them. Remember the passage under the dungeons?"

"No," Buffy refused, "I didn't say a word!"

"He made sure you wouldn't remember," Spike enlightened her. "Let me help your memory a little. Ever wondered what made the blood bond between you so strong you could no longer bear it? Why you've been feeling better since you've changed clothes?"

The realization cut like a knife. The passage... I sent her through the sewers... to Hope... Buffy's face fell. "The dress..."

"It was a magic dress. It enabled him to manipulate you into betraying them; giving him a way to surprise his enemies. He knew you were acting for both sides all the time. It's an ugly truth, Buffy, but he used you." Spike saw her face being torn between rage and despair. Sorry I couldn't spare you this humiliation. Well, now you hate Angelus enough to kill him, and all that's left for me to do is use the confusion to take his place. Life is good.

All eyes rested on the stage. Angelus raised his voice. "Now it is time to burn down the seeds of rebellion. And there is only one woman who deserves the honor of setting them ablaze."

The crowd roared as Angelus handed Buffy a torch.

Spike stepped aside to make way for Buffy.

Drusilla felt the heat of the fire in her hair already.

She did not falter, she did not flinch on the verge of her fiery death.

Buffy stood right before her, the burning torch in her hand. The Ring of Regha was glowing in the blaze of the flame.

Drusilla looked straight into her eyes.

TBC...