Giles heard a non-human heartbeat approaching. He paused at the corner and waited.

A gnarled demon with bad skin and wearing a hooded robe crept around the corner. It saw Giles and squeaked as it jumped. "Excuse me," it gasped. "I did not see you--" It frowned. "Or hear you. Or smell you. Ah. My apologies, Master Vampire, I'll just be on my way."

Demons in the vicinity of the morgue were so rarely up to any good. Giles moved to block the creature's way and looked down the corridor. He heard a rapid heartbeat in that direction and smelled anxiety. "What were you doing down there?"

"Nothing, most puissant one, nothing at all that need bother your most undeadness."

Giles glared at him. "That makes less sense than anything Xander or Willow have ever babbled." The demon started to slink off, and he grabbed the creature by the front of its robe. "Who are you, what are you doing down here, and who is that lurking down there?"

The demon actually straightened a little from its obsequious crouch. "Down there? There's no one down there. No one you need to worry about."

Giles smiled slightly and slipped on his fangs. "No one worth worrying about? Generally the best sort to invite to dinner. If they're not worth worrying about."

"Oh, you don't want to eat him, your most frightening pointiness. He is not at all tasty. You should eat me instead."

"That's very generous of you. What did you say your name was?"

"Smirg, my lord."

"Smirg. Nothing personal, Smirg, but I'm afraid I don't find you that appetizing."

Giles started down the corridor, Smirg on his heels. "I understand, my lord," the demon said. "I am unworthy of the notice of such a fearsome creature of the night. Especially such a clever *vampire*, who's thought of *hunting* in the hospital."

Giles turned to glare at it. "What are you doing? I don't need a herald going before me announcing my presence." He paused, then looked from the demon down the corridor. The heartbeat he'd heard earlier was retreating. "You were giving a warning. Who were you talking to?"

Smirg blinked innocently. "Talking to, my lord? Who would I be talking to?"

Growling, Giles grabbed its robe again. "Who was it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, most scary snarling one. You'll probably just have to kill me."

"I distrust people who want me to kill them."

"Completely up to you, your illustrious bloodthirstiness."

"Why on earth are you talking like that?"

"Like what, most--"

He shook the demon firmly. "Stop that." The demon nodded. "Now, what are you doing down here?" The demon stared at him. "You can talk to answer the question. What are you doing down here?"

"I was visiting the corpses, my lord. I like corpses."

"I think you're lying."

"Most likely, my lord."

"I could hurt you a great deal, you know."

"Oh, yes, I know, my lord."

"And the longer I spend with you, the farther away whomever you were talking to gets."

The demon smiled. 'Yes, my lord."

Kill him just on principle? Giles debated for several moments, then let the creature go. "If I see you again, I'll most likely kill you just for the hell of it."

Smirg straightened his robe. "Quite all right, my lord. Good hunting to you. It strolled away.

Giles went down to the morgue to make sure nothing out of hte ordinary was going on, but all was quiet. He smelled traces of the man that Smirg had been speaking to, but everything indicated average human.

Annoyed, Giles waylaid a janitor and left his drained body in a laundry hamper.

Elsewhere in the Sunnydale night, Xander Harris mused with ironic fondness on the good old days of plain, unsophisticated vampires. How pleasant it would be to go back to those days. But only if he could go back as the person he was now. No way in hell would he do high school over again. Sure, bezoars in the basement and hyenas in the hall, but there weren't any gods wandering around.

His musings didn't distract him from watching for things that go bump in the night as he did his share of the patrol through the Riverview Cemetery. Nice place, Riverview. When it was his turn and if there was enough left to bother with, he wanted to be buried here, with a view of the water.

"Excuse me, young man," said a female voice from the shadows. A middled-aged woman carrying a dog leash stepped out from behind a bush. "Could you help me find my dog?"

Xander stared at her. "That's a new line."

"Excuse me?" She blinked harmless brown eyes at him, her expression a mix of confusion and worry. "Have you seen a dog? A lhasa apso? He just slipped the leash and ran off after something."

"Well, no, haven't seen any dogs. I might smell a rat, though."

"There's no need to be rude." She glowered at him and turned to walk away.

Xander took a step after her, but at least it was a suspicious step. "Where'd you last see your dog, ma'am?"

"He was over by that mausoleum." She turned quickly, the dog leash looped in both hands and fangs showing through her grin.

Xander ducked as she tried to throw the loop over his head. "Yeah, Harris, tell the universe you miss vampires." He scrambled away, yanking the stake out of his back pocket.

The vampire hesitated. "Who are you? The Slayer's a girl."

"Yeah, well, I'm a close personal friend of the Slayer, so there. Gotta say, nice routine with the lost dog bit."

She grinned. "It's not a bit."

Barking broke out behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander saw a small, white, shaggy dog running towards him, little canine fangs bared.

"Oh, now, come on!"

He barely dodged the teeth trying to latch onto his ankle, avoiding the vampire's claws by inches. Reaching down, he snagged the scruff of the dog's neck and threw himself back against a tree. "Back off, fangface, or the mutt gets it!" He held his stake against the dog's heart.

"No!" the vampire yelled. "Don't hurt Maxi!"

The dog snarled and wriggled, trying to get free. "Knock it off, dog," Xander said, giving the thing a shake.

"Maxi, stop it!" the vampire ordered. The dog went limp.

"OK, then," Xander said, catching his breath. "Here's where we stand. You're a vampire, and you want to kill me. I don't want you to kill me, and I've got your dog. Where do we go from here?"

"Give me my dog and I won't hurt you."

"Eeenh, try again. I give you your dog, and you jump me."

"Well, you don't think I'm going to let you stake me, do you?"

Xander smiled. "What a happy world that would be, if the vampires let you stake them." There was something inherently wrong with negotiating with vampires. "Alternate deal. You disappear and I let the dog go and I go in the other direction." He saw the way the vampire grinned. "And if you think I won't be watching my back, you're wrong. There's a Slayer around here somewhere, and I don't think she'd fall for the poor doggie routine."

The negotiations were madly interrupted by the arrival of a horse crashing through some bushes and galloping towards them. The vampire jumped towards Xander. Just as he brought his stake up in self-defense, she grabbed the dog from his hold and ran away. Xander ducked behind the tree as the horse ran past. It stopped not far away, tossing its head and pawing nervously. It wore a saddle and bridle, but the reins hung loose.

Xander crept towards it. "Easy, big fella," he said, flashing on memories of old western movies and cowboys. The horse turned its head and looked at him. "That's it, it's your old buddy Xander. Damn, you guys don't look so big on TV. Where'd you come from, huh?"

He reached out very carefully to touch the sweaty black flank. Snorting loudly, the horse jumped away, then reared, lashing out with heavy front hooves. Xander yelped and dove out of the way, scrambling for the cover of the bushes. The horse shook its head violently, then ran off into the darkness.

"Hi-yo, Silver, away." Xander headed back the direction the horse had come from. Not too far along, he heard the sound of heavy breathing and snarls--and laughter? Vaguely familiar laughter, that made his spine crawl. He ducked back into the bushes and crept along till he found the source of the sound. "Oh, god, no."

It was one of those Knights of Byzantium guys, in full armor with his sword out and swinging--at Spike. A Spike who danced with the blade, spinning just out of reach, ducking under the point, circling around to force the soldier to follow him. He was in full game face, and he was having the time of his unlife.

Xander had forgotten how elegantly Spike could move. When he fought demons, more often than not the fight was something close to balanced. This was Spike at play, utterly confident, completely in control of the movements. He used the skirts of his duster almost like a matador used his cloak, flicking a corner into his opponent's face and letting the leather sweep around his legs as he turned. At one point he got behind the soldier, and he kicked the man in the back, just hard enough to knock him stumbling off balance.

"Come on, mate," Spike grinned, "don't tell me you're all done. I haven't had a dance like this in years!"

There was not the slightest flicker of discomfort on his face as he hit the man. Maybe, Xander thought, the Knight wasn't human. But his gut knew better. His gut recognized a personal apocalypse when it stood up and flashed unchipped vampire fangs at him.

Spike, free, unleashed, the Big Bad in name only no longer. Xander only wondered why he was starting with some hapless dude in chainmail.

The soldier got his feet under him and his sword pointed towards the vampire. Spike strode towards him easily. "So your whole raison d'etre is to find and destroy the Key, is that right, mate?"

"We shall find and destroy the Key and save the world from the Beast," came the voice from behind the chainmail veil.

"Well, you might want to go a little easy on the word 'we', there, mate. I think your brothers in arms are going to have to go on without you."

The soldier firmed his shoulder. "When one falls, a hundred shall rise."

Spike grinned, showing all his fangs. "I love it when I get my meals delivered."

He dove in, playing no longer. He backhanded the sword blade out of his way and wrenched the weapon out of his victim's hands. The solider screamed as bones broke. Spike laughed again as he yanked the veil from the man's face and pulled him back against his chest.

"Well, you're serious about all this, aren't you," Spike said, looking at the tatoo on the man's forehead. "How about this, I won't let you die with your life's work unfinished."

"What?"

"I'll tell you where the key is."

The man stared at him, and Xander got ready to charge.

Spike looked around carefully. "The key that everyone's looking for is . ..." He leaned down and whispered in the man's ear. The soldier struggled wildly to escape. Spike chuckled, yanked the man's head back and sank his fangs into the neck.

Xander froze, staring. He kept remembering things--Spike wrapped up in a blanket and shivering that Thanksgiving, the vampire tied up in his ratty easy chair in the Basement of Doom, the Scoobies sneering with various degrees of cruelty over how low the Big Bad had fallen. His mortal sub-brain was now suspecting that they were all in a great deal of trouble.

Spike finished and pulled away from his victim with a satisfied sigh. "Blessed are the pure in heart," he said, "for they shall see God. Give Him my regards, mate." He dropped the body on the ground.

He stretched happily, then searched his pockets till he found his cigarettes and lighter. He was just lighting up when he paused, then looked around. He sniffed audibly, his search closing on the bushes where Xander hid. He smiled cruelly and sauntered over. "Are we playing hide and seek, then? I thought white hats disapproved of hiding."

The terrified primate in the back of Xander's head screamed at him to flee. Instead, he stood up and stepped out of cover. "Yeah, hiding's kind of girly."

Spike pouted. "What, aren't you even going to run?"

Xander met his eyes. "Not from you."

Spike chuckled. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Oh, gosh, is that the time? Must go off and get dinner now.

hee.

La la la I LOVE IT.

One typo thing:

Smirg straightened his robe. "Quite all right, my lord. Good hunting to you. It strolled away.

Need an end quote in there.

Ah, thank you, Liz. t off to correct main file

Hmm... snuff, or slash, snuff, or slash?

Lovely, Connie!

My hell card has been archived:

[link]

Moohahahaha.

Cereal: I should know better than to hit the keyboard when I hit post. It doubles me up.

Connie, I'm loving V!Giles. You write Spike wonderfully (duh).

He made a promise to himself that if he checked four volumes of dark lore for mentions of Glory, then he could go out and find something to beat up. After all, the technique had gotten him through Oxford.

Oh, I *so* believe that!

most scary snarling one

"Completely up to you, your illustrious bloodthirstiness."

You really have a good handle on Minionese.

Hmm... snuff, or slash, snuff, or slash?

Come on, Plei, you know me. Which way do you think I'm going?