SUMMARY: Sometimes, just when you thought you had everything figured out, you realize that you know nothing. And that's exactly what Spike is about to find out when going to Italy to warn his former lover of impending doom.

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: BTVS is property of Joss Whedon. I own nothing.

SPOILERS: Inspired by the first book of the comics Buffy season 8. You don't need to have read it to understand what's going on, but it will spoil you if you haven't read it yet.

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CHAPTER 5: Doing it the American way

The black limo took off from the curb and maneuvered smoothly through the busy traffic in front of Fiumicino airport. Inside, the bosom heavy brunette embraced the vampire, air kissing him three times.

Ilona Costa Bianchi sat back, then handed Spike a flute of champagne. "Take, take!” She said loudly, putting emphasis on the ’ke’. We must drink to your return to Roma. It is so nice to have you here again."

Spike took the flute from her hand and drank some. He wasn't a big fan of champagne but this stuff tasted expensive. Only the best for the CEO of the Roman office of Wolfram&Hart he figured.

"Tell me, Spike, what brings you back to Roma? Is it a woman? Have you fallen in love with an Italian beauty? You MUST tell me." She asked excitedly, leaning forward and exposing her abundant cleavage.

He couldn‘t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "No pet. Same bird, different threat."

The expressive brunette frowned unhappily. "That Boffy of yours?" She said, mispronouncing Buffy‘s name. She sighed heavily. "Amore. How cruel it is. But tell me, what is this new threat you speak of? Is it the gypsies? Damn gypsies! They're filthy! They must be exterminated. I spit on them!"

Ilona pretended to spit.

Spike smirked. "What is it with you and gypsies, pet?"

"I spit on those filthy gypsies. We must speak of them NO MORE!" She made a slashing gesture with her hands, efficiently putting an end to this topic.

"All right. But you'll have to tell me the story some day.

Her perfectly tweezed dark brows furrowed in anger at the mere thought. Spike decided it was safer to keep talking before he could be treated to another round about the disgusting gypsies.

"Apparently, the Slayer is a target of the US army. They have it in their thick skulls that she's a terrorist and want to capture her or kill her. I wanted to warn her in person and see what I can do to help get her out of this mess."

Ilona brought a long slim cigarette to her full lips and lit it with her silver lighter. She inhaled deeply then let a puff of smoke out of her "o" shaped lips. "This is unfortunate for your Boffy. The Americans, of course. Always so violent. They must learn the Italian way."

Spike's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Grazie, prego, kiss, kiss, boom?"

She smiled brilliantly. "Exaaaactly. Spike, you are handsome AND smart."

"May I ask where you're taking me, pet?"

"Why, to Boffy's flat, of course." Ilona made it sound like it was the stupidest question. "Is there another place where you needed to be?"

"No. I'm just surprised you're here personally to drive me there. Didn't peg you for a tour guide, luv."

Ilona twirled her hand in the air. "Of course not. Angelus asked me to keep an eye on you, daaarling." She stated matter-of-factly.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "And he wanted you to tell me about it?"

The look she gave him was positively evil, but in the most charming way. "No, bello. Of course not."

The vampire knew he should be angry as hell, but the Italian woman was too amusing. "So you're telling me this because?"

"I do not like this Angelus.” She said with disdain. “Is he evil, is he good? He does not know what he wants. It is confusing. And I find his forehead most distracting. He is not nearly as handsome as you. I have a weakness for beautiful men. Of course I had to be agreeable to him when he was with Wolfram&Hart, but why he thought I would be nice to him now after everything that happened, I do not know."

Spike let out a bark of laughter. He finished his glass of champagne in one swallow then pulled out his cigarettes. "Mind if I join you, pet?"

"By all means, caro mio."

He lit his cigarette, then slowly let the smoke out of his parted lips, his eyes closed. "What exactly did the poofter ask you to do?"

"Make sure you did not stay around his Boffy for too long." She shook her head emphatically. "Jealousy, what an ugly thing."

Spike smirked. "That it is. So what are you going to do instead?"

Ilona let out a throaty laugh. "I'll help you, what else. You must, MUST get the girl."

"Really?" Spike asked skeptically. “What happened to your love of the bloody Immortal?”

She frowned. “Bastardo! I spit on him!”

Again, she pretended to spit.

“The double crossing filthy dog will burn in Hell. In HELL!” She put her fingertips together pointing upward and shook her hand in the air in typical Italian fashion.

“All right. There’s no more love for the Immortal. Got it.” Spike commented, chuckling with amusement.

The limousine slowly came to a stop. Spike looked through the tainted windows and recognized the street. Buffy’s street. Something tightened his chest, but he refused to admit to himself that it was fear.

“We are here, handsome.”

“Um, yeah.” He mumbled still staring out the window at the building where Buffy lived.

“Well? What are you waiting for, stud? Go rescue your Boffy, sweep her off her American feet and get her out of the Immortal’s claws... Bastardo that he is! He deserves no better.”

Spike didn’t bother correcting her. As much as he fantasized about it, he wasn’t there to sweep Buffy off her dainty feet. She was off limits now and he had to accept that. He had to follow the plan. Warn her, offer help if she wanted it, then go back to the States.

Ilona offered him her business card. “Call me, bello.”

Spike nodded. “Thanks, pet.”

He took the card and got out of the limo. He looked up at the building with its wrought iron balconies, potted plants with bright flowers, it was beautiful. Just what he wished for Buffy. He did wonder briefly how she could afford a place like that in central Rome, but figured it must be paid for with the Council’s money. The wankers had bottomless pockets, or so he’d heard. It always enraged him that they wouldn’t give their Slayer any money when she was struggling. Things must be different now that Quentin Travers wasn‘t head of the Council anymore. Spike wondered if Giles had taken over.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Spike took a deep breath, then walked up to the front door. He was about to buzz Buffy’s apartment when a cute little brunette showed up juggling too many grocery bags for her petite frame.

“Need help, luv?” He asked the girl, offering her his sexiest smirk.

The brunette blushed. “Grazie.”

Spike relieved her of some of her bags, waited for her to unlock the door, then held it open for her. He then followed the girl inside the building.

“Grazie.” She repeated, smiling and batting her eyelashes seductively. She started saying something in Italian that Spike didn’t get.

“Sorry, pet. Don’t speak the language.”

She pouted prettily, then shrugged. “Ciao.” Then she disappeared in the elevator.

Spike took the steps two at a time to the second floor where Buffy’s apartment was located. Once in front of her door, he hesitated just a moment then raised his hand and knocked.

There was shuffling noises and voices coming from the other side of the door. He waited patiently for something to happen.

Then, the door finally opened. Spike stared, dumbfounded, then growled threateningly, his face shifting into the one of his demon.

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General Voll walked into the room with a decided pace. Soft chanting was the only thing breaking the silence. Under the fluorescent light of the conference room, a young woman was sitting alone at one end of the long table. In front of her, a map of the world was spread out. Her arm was extended in front of her and a long chain with a black crystal dangling from it swayed slowly over the map. The young woman’s eyes were closed in concentration and her lips moved to form words the general did not understand. Shoulder length red hair fell in front of her face.

Feeling a presence in the room, she opened eyes as black as the night to look at him.

Feeling uncomfortable under the intense dark gaze, the general cleared his throat. “Are you any closer to finding Miss Summers’ location?”

Her lips stretched into a sinister smile. “I will find her. But the more you interrupt, the longer it takes.”

“I’m sorry but it’s taking a long time and I’m under pressure here. If you were close friends with this woman, shouldn’t you have at least an idea of where she’s hiding?” He asked, the tone of his voice skeptical.

The eyes got even darker if possible, the pixie face contorted in a grimace. “I told you we parted ways here in California. She could be anywhere in the world. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll find her. She’s just under a cloaking spell. No biggie.”

The young witch closed her eyes again, effectively dismissing the military man.

When the chanting started again and General Voll realized he wouldn‘t get anything else from the young woman, he sighed and rubbed his painful temple. The Buffy Summers case was cause for a constant headache and the witch’s attitude didn’t help at all. He turned around and opened the door. Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder. “Please hurry, Miss Rosenberg.”

She ignored him.

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The door opened and there she was. But who was she, that was another question. Blonde hair, check. Hazel eyes, check. Cute little nose, check. Luscious lips, check. Petite, check. All the physical attributes of Buffy Anne Summers. Only one problem...

This was not Buffy Anne Summers.

And Spike didn’t bother asking questions. His fist was flying toward the impostor’s face before the words “Who the bleeding hell are you?” had a chance to come out of his mouth.

His fist covered the distance in a flash and his knuckles made painful contact with the stranger’s cheek. Her head snapped sideways and the strength behind the right hook made her stumble backward.

Spike walked right in without a problem thanks to Andrew’s invite last time he was there with Angel. He punched her again, in the guts this time, then let out an enraged yell: “Where’s Buffy? Who the hell are you?!”

He heard someone running to the scene, probably alerted by the commotion, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the fake Buffy. “What have you done with her you stupid cow?” Spike barked before delivering a kick that sent the woman crashing across the room.

In a corner, Andrew was pressing his back against the wall, his face white, unmanly squeals coming out of his open mouth. But the man next to him didn’t seem all that impressed with the show.

“William, my friend. How have been?” The smile on the face of the man who called himself the Immortal was sickeningly suave. “Attacking a lady in her own home? How very uncivilized. I see you haven‘t changed.”

The very tall man smoothed down imaginary wrinkles on his expensive black suit with a well manicured hand covered in gold rings, then readjusted his red silk tie, the smile never leaving his face.

Yellow eyes blazing, Spike refocused his fury on his sworn enemy. Without a warning, he charged, tackling the much taller man like an American football player. Unfortunately for the Immortal, he was standing in front of a window.

The glass shattered and the Immortal went through.

Spike stood in front of the now broken window, the grin exposing his sharp fangs. “’that uncivilized enough for you, mate?” He said while brushing some glass shards from his clothes.

Fake Buffy chose this time to attack. “You asshole!” She screamed while charging him, the first words she’d said so far.

Spike lifted his foot at the last second and it was too late for her to avoid it. His Buffy would have seen that move coming from a mile away. She fell on her back, but rolled to the side just in time to dodge his booted foot. She sprang to her feet and showered punches at the vampire, but he managed to avoid most of them before head butting her savagely. The blond woman wearing Buffy’s face covered her bleeding nose with her hands.

Andrew chose this time to start screaming. “No! Spike stop! For the love of God, stop!”

Spike ignored him. He put his hands on both sides of the stunned woman’s head and looked about ready to break her neck when Andrew tried again.

“Don’t KILL her! We need her... BUFFY needs her!”

This got Spike’s attention. He snarled in Andrew’s direction.

“You got a lot of explaining to do, mate. Better get on it now!”

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CHAPTER 6: Happy bunch

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