Angel had been forced down to his knees, a demonically 
strong and scaley hand gripping the back of his neck 
painfully. Controlled violence, tinged slightly by his ever- 
present bloodlust, radiated from every line and muscle of his 
body. He could almost *taste* his enemy's death in the air 
when an amused and dearly loved voice brought him up 
short in delighted shock. 

"Oooohhh boys!" 

From his crouched position, Angel glanced up and 
immediately felt his jaw drop and his cock go rock hard. 

There, up on a highly decorated dais and seated ever so 
daintily on a red and gold throne, was his best friend in the 
entire world. The one he had come close to losing *far* too 
many times, both through potentially fatal violence and his 
own stupidity. His friend, his Seer, his beloved Cordelia. 

And then his mind finally registered what his dick had 
noticed immediately. She was barely dressed in what 
appeared to be little more than sheer veils and jewels. Angel 
decided that it was a good look for her. A little voice in 
his head wondered if she would be willing to dress like that 
at the office, but he was able to push aside his desire and lust 
for her easily now, just as she always pushed aside hers for 
him. They both feared Angelus' return more than they 
wanted to bed the other. Ogling each other was all that they 
allowed themselves and so they both remained celibate. 

Wes's "Cordelia *please*!" yanked Angel out of his shock 
and he realized that he had missed part of the conversation. 
Looking back up at the raven haired beauty ensconced on 
her throne, he watched her give a small dramatic sigh, 
pause and then grin. 

"Oh, okay. Fine. Let them go. I pardon them from all crimes." 

The hand holding Angel's neck squeezed down painfully. 

"But your Highness! These are dangerous criminals and we 
should" 

"Enough!" 

Cordelia stood up, affording everyone in the room with an 
excellent view of her stunning body full of lush curves and 
waved her hand in an imperious gesture of command. Some 
remote part of Angel's mind that wasn't fascinated with the 
Seer's glittery bikini top recognized the gesture as one he 
made quite often. 

"I said that they were pardoned for all crimes. Leave us. 
Now!" 

A chorus of voices echoed "Yes Princess." and then the 
hand holding onto Angel pulled away. With a clattering of 
armor and weapons, the guards marched out of the Throne 
Room and shut the gilded doors behind them. 

Squealing with happiness, Cordelia rushed at them. She was 
passed from person to person until she reached him. Angel 
gathered her into his arms, buried his face into her hair and 
breathed in deeply. Her soft scent filled his dead lungs, 
soothing and calming him for the first time since she had 
disappeared. After a long moment he reluctantly let her go. 

Angel wanted to just look at her and get lost in her big 
beautiful eyes, but The Host Lorne, broke the moment by 
asking something that he hadn't even considered in his relief 
at finding her. 

"Princess? I must admit I *am* rather surprised that they 
made you a Princess. After all, humans aren't exactly treated 
well here. In fact, they're usually enslaved. What gives?" 

Cordelia shrugged, walking back up to her throne with a 
forced air of unconcern, but Angel knew better. He could see 
the tense lines of her back and when he turned back to sit 
down, he noticed that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"I'm not sure really. I mean, I was sold. As a *cow*, mind 
you. Then I did the vision thing *not* a pleasant experience 
I'll tell you, and everyone started going on and on about how 
I was "cursed" or something like that. I *tried* to explain what 
it was all about, but no one would listen to me at all. Then 
there was poking and prodding with sharp objects. Another 
not fun experience. At the end, I was pronounced "cursed" 
and they made me the Princess." 

Angel flinched at hearing that Cordelia had been "poked and 
prodded". It didn't sound pleasant and he wondered if she 
would ever tell the details of her ordeal, but he doubted it. 
Cordelia wasn't one to whine and cry over the big things. It 
was the small stuff that she bitched about the things that 
*could* be fixed. 

"I wasn't about to complain. I mean, I *did* need a bath and 
I think I look rather pretty dripping jewels. Besides, I'd 
*much* rather order people around than shovel hell-beast 
poop. And let's not go there. *So* not a happy memory." 

Angel began walking up the red carpet leading to Cordelia's 
throne so that he could offer comfort and sympathy to her 
when he wandered past a silver carafe on a tall tray. Some 
blurred movement caught his attention out of the corner of 
his eye. Stopping and turning back, Angel peered deeper 
into the curved surface and gasped. 

It was him! 

Or rather, his long lost and dearly missed reflection. 

Picking up the carafe, Angel smiled at his reflection and felt 
a wave of awe and happiness wash over him. This was 
almost better than the whole sunlight-not-burst-into-flames 
thing. He hadn't seen his reflection in over 240 years and 
he had forgotten what he looked like. Oh, he knew the 
basics, dark hair and dark eyes but those were merely cold 
impersonal facts. He couldn't pull up a mental image of 
himself or what he might possibly look like for all of the rice 
in China until now. 

Glancing around almost franticly, Angel quickly spotted a 
silvered and polished surface that was flat. A serving platter. 
Dashing over to it with a wide and ridiculously goofy grin 
stretching his features, Angel mindlessly dumped the food it 
held onto the rich carpeting and quickly cleaned the surface 
with a swipe of his sleeve. 

******* 




Holding his breath in anticipation, Angel gazed deeply into 
the seudo-mirror and frowned. The bottom of the platter 
had been painstakingly engraved with a delicate floral 
pattern. And as beautiful as that pattern was, it was 
impeding his view of himself. With a flash of inspiration, 
Angle flipped the platter over so that it's back surface was 
facing him. And smiled. 

By the Powers That Be he was one gorgeous guy. No 
wonder everyone wanted him. 

He was still grinning inanely at his reflection and fussing with 
his hair when Cordelia's voice once more yanked him back 
into the here and now. It wasn't so much the words 
themselves but the underlying fear in her voice when she 
said it. 

"They're gonna *mate* me? With a *demon*? Oh no that's 
it. Shiny-jeweled tiara or no shiny-jeweled tiara, I'm getting 
out of here. Now!" 

Angel almost dropped his platter. Only his preternatural 
reflexes kept it from hitting the floor with a loud clatter. 
Confused and feeling just a tad over-protective in a rip-them- 
to-tiny-quivering-chunks sort of way Angel walked over to 
where his friends had gathered. 

"What? Explain this mating thing. In detail. That way I know 
who exactly to kill." 

The Host sighed and looked terribly sad, but he complied to 
Angel's demand without question. He gestured around the 
Throne Room with an extravagant wave. 

"I was saying that I just figured out why this. The whole 
curse-equals-Princess thing. It's a part of an ancient 
prophecy. I don't know all of the details, but the general gist 
is that "The One who is Cursed with The Sight" will come to 
Pylea from another world. Her arrival will signal the 
beginning of the end of Order and the ushering in of a new 
era of Chaos." 

"Chaos?" 

Angel's voice was merely a whisper as he felt a shiver of 
horror and fear work it's way under his skin. The Host merely 
nodded and gestured to a very pale Cordelia. 

"Apparently, the "Cursed One" is prophesied to bring Pylea 
under her rule, choose her "mated husband" from among the 
demon population and then lead an army of warriors against 
the tides of chaos. The "Cursed One" is said to be the 
mother of the "One who will Restore the Balance". I don't 
know if it's true or not but if the Covenant made Cordy 
Princess they will also try to mate her to a demon. To try 
and produce the child." 

Angel felt overwhelmed. Events were spinning way beyond 
out of control, one disaster striking before he could get past 
the last one. And his Cordelia was always at the heart of it, 
suffering for the amusement of the Powers That Be and for 
Angel. For a moment he was afraid that he was going crazy, 
that this was just a dream strange and bizarre dream. 
Then the voice of reason spoke up with it's upper-crust 
English accent. 

"Is it possible to be able to get a written copy of this 
prophecy? I think we need to know all of the details. Perhaps 
there is a loophole somewhere? A way to prevent Cordelia 
from being forced into an unnatural, and most definitely 
unwanted, union with some random demon." 

Angel latched onto this hope whole-heartedly. He nodded his 
head and pointed at Wesley. 

"Yes! That might work. We should try and find a copy right 
away." 

However, Cordelia didn't look as certain about the validity of 
that idea. In fact, Angel noted that she looked petrified. Her 
body was tense and her eyes were wide with suppressed 
fear. A rush of sympathy for her washed over him and he 
had the urge to gather her back up in his arms again. He 
didn't get the chance however, because Cordelia reached 
out with one jewel bedecked arm and pulled on a thick silken 
rope. 

Somewhere deep inside the castle a heavy iron gong rang. 
Within a matter of seconds, a green demon wearing dark 
livery entered the room and sketched a graceful bow. 

"Yes your Highness?" 

Angel watched as Cordelia pushed down her fear and 
summoned up her most imperial expression for the slight 
demon. 

"I would have word with the Priests on a matter of grave 
importance." 

The livered servant bowed again. 

"I shall summon them with all haste Princess." 

And with that, the green demon turned on one heel and 
walked back out. Gunn reached out and gently tapped 
Cordelia on the shoulder to get her attention. 

"Priests?" 

Cordelia nodded her head, trying to hide her relief at the 
distraction. It might have even worked had they not known 
her so well. 

"Yeah. These robey Priest guys. They're the ones that 
performed thetests to determine if I was cursed. I figure if 
anyone would know anything about this prophecy, *they* 
would." 

"Uh-huh. And you *trust* these guys?" 

Cordelia shot the black man a withering look. 

"Do I *look* stupid to you? No, I *don't* trust them but it *is* 
their prophecy. *They* are the ones who will be insisting on 
this *mating*. So" 

Cordelia never got to finish her statement because at that 
moment the gilded doors to the Throne Room swung open 
and three tall demons wrapped in heavy crimson robes 
walked in. The demon in the lead had an elaborate tattoo 
decorating his face and carried an air of authority. He too 
went through the motions of courtesy by bowing his head 
towards the woman on the throne. 

"You summoned me, your Highness?" 

Angel restrained the urge to fidget as well as the urge to just 
strangle the tall thin demon. Both urges were nearly 
overwhelming. He also had to stifle the desire to growl 
menacingly, however, he wasn't as successful at this as he was 
at restraining his need for instant violence. He didn't feel 
nearly as bad about his temper when he noticed that Gunn 
was glaring and that Wesley looked to be on the verge of 
flinging a spell at the demon Priest. 

"Um yes. I, my friends and I, were just told about a 
prophecy. About the "Cursed One" and I was hoping that 
you could tell me more about it. It, you know, sounds 
important. Wouldn't want to mess it up." 

The leader of the Priests glowered at The Host, who in turn 
tried to appear as if he wasn't standing there in the room. 
In fact, he looked as if he would rather be *anywhere* else 
at that particular moment. 

"Of course Princess. I would be glad to teach you of our 
sacred writings. The prophecy of which you speak is known 
as The Legacy of the Cursed One and is one of our 
oldest…and most important religious writings." 

The tall thin demon's face took on an odd expression of 
barely restrained excitement. 

"It is relieving to know that your Highness recognizes it's 
importance and significance. And as you've probably already 
guessed, it is about *you* your Highness." 

Angel felt himself tense up at those words even though they 
already *did* figure that out. It was different however, to 
know something in your mind then it was to hear it 
whispered in awe by someone caught up in a religious 
fervor. He didn't blame Cordelia one bit when he saw her 
shiver out of the corner of his eye. 

"The prophecy is actually quite simple. At least…the basics 
are. The "Cursed One"…you Princess, were foretold to come 
before us in a humble guise. You were a slave, the humblest 
of the humble. It is written that we would know you by the 
"Curse of Visions" sent to you directly from the Powers That 
Be and that your coming would be a sign that the end of 
Order is near. *You* personally shall foretell *that* horror. It 
is also foretold that you shall perform four tasks. These four 
tasks shall block the onslaught of Chaos." 

*********

Cordelia's face went pale and Angel could hear her heart 

begin to race. This sounded bad. Very very bad. But what 

did the demon Priest mean by the "end of order" and the 

"onslaught of chaos"? Angel wasn't sure…but it couldn't be 

good if a world of *demons* had spent centuries waiting for 

their messiah to be delivered to them so that whatever was 

fated to happened could be stopped. 



Another worry, beyond keeping Cordelia safe was what all of 

this meant for him personally. It was one thing for these alien 

demons to have prophesied Cordelia's coming…but she was 

*his* Seer. The visions she received from the Powers were 

actually instructions for *him* to carry out. Whatever her four 

tasks were…it would most likely involve him…as well as 

Gunn and Wesley too.



"Wha…what are these four tasks? The ones that I'm 

supposed to do?"



Angel could hear the tendons in Cordelia's arms stretch and 

creak to maximum tension as her hands gripped her throne 

in white-knuckled terror. 



"That is simple Princess. The first task you have already 

done. You have been made ruler of Pylea by completing 

and passing the tests designed to determine if you are truly 

the "Cursed One". This will allow you to fulfill the third 

task…leading an army off of Pylea so that you can confront 

the enemy of our universe."



Angel could feel his chest begin to rumble again and knew 

that he was growling at the threat to his beloved Cordelia. 

The thought of her marching off into battle still had the power 

to make him weak from terror…even though it had happened 

so many times in the past.



"Conversely, the second and fourth tasks are also related. 

One dependant upon the other. While the prophecy does 

not specify *which* particular demon…it is foretold that your 

second task is to take a demon as your mate…and that your 

bond will be witnessed by the Covenant. This will make way for 

your fourth, and most important, task. You shall give birth to 

a child. *The* child…one that is foretold to have the power to 

block the forces of Chaos and restore the Balance between

Good and Evil."



Echoes of "What?!" surrounded him as his friends all 

absorbed this information, but Angel slid right past shock into 

demonically inspired possessiveness. With all of the menace 

he could put into it, Angel stepped directly in front of Cordelia 

and *snarled* at the startled Priest.



"MINE!"



"Angel…perhaps it would be best if…"



Angel snapped his head around and glared at his friend.



"No Wes. I *refuse* to allow Cordelia to be used as…as… 

*breeding stock* for some random demon. She's my Seer, 

my best friend, and…and…Wes, it's *Cordy*!"



While Angel's declaration and speech may have comforted 

Wesley and Gunn, it had the opposite effect on the tall 

demon Preist.



"You would *dare* interfere with our sacred prophecy!"



Angel tensed his body, instantly prepared for massive 

violence, ready to defend both Cordelia's honor and her body 

from violation. Just before he leaped at the Priest, Cordelia's 

hand settled down on his one shoulder, restraining him far 

better with her whims than she could ever hope to do with 

her strength. 



"No! No, you don't understand. We're not trying to mess up 

your sacred prophecy thing. Honest. It's just that…"



Angel could hear Cordelia's heart race as she paused, 

casting about for some reason…any excuse not go through with

being forcibly mated to a demon. The sudden flexing of her 

hand on his shoulder told him that she had found a 

straw…and was going to grasp at it. He tensed again.



"…well, I'm already sort of involved with someone. You 

know, I love him and he loves me…it's a real, uh…exclusi
ve 

sort of thing. I mean, Angel would *never* share me with 

some demon, no matter *how* nice that demon may be."



The Priest looked shocked and slightly confused, but he 

quickly pushed that aside and took on the tone of a teacher 

who was explaining something difficult to a slow, yet delicate 

child.



"Princess…I can understand that you would be reluctant to 

release your claims on your former mate, but the prophecy is 

quite clear in this. Granted, it does not name your 

mate…only that he would travel vast distances to claim you. 

However, it is specific in that your mate is a *demon*, not a 

cow. This Covenant would *never* recognize a cow mating. 

Not for *you*."



Angel smirked. He couldn't help it. There were very few 

times when he was grateful for Angelus' presence, but this 

was one of them. Still grinning widely at the Priest, Angel 

shifted into gameface.



"I guess it's a good thing that I'm a demon, isn't it?"



The Priest took a startled step back. With matching gasps, 

so did Wesley and Gunn. Cordelia's fingers dug painfully into 

his shoulder and he could feel her trembling. The scent of 

fear washed over his senses and he basked in it's lovely 

perfume. He felt powerful and strong, like he never had 

before and the pull of the bloodlust was rising in a huge tide. 

He had the crazy urge to devour the Priest before him…to 

bathe in his blood and drink down his very essence.



"Angel? Uh…Angelus? Um…wha…"



Cordelia's fear laden voice pulled him out of his blood 

soaked daydreams and he turned to face her. She stifled a 

scream and flinched back from him. Confused, because she 

had seen him in gameface plenty of times and she had 

never reacted like this, Angel glanced down and caught a 

flash of reflected green.



Raising the silvered platter in his hand back up, he looked 

into it…and saw a monster. A green skinned, jagged horned 

monster with a maw of endless sharp fangs. 



From a distance he heard the demon Priest say something 

about this mating being acceptable to the Covenant once the 

ritual witnessing of the bonding took place. However, he 

wasn't really listening, he was too busy staring in unutterable 

horror at his reflection. Despair and anguish swirled through 

him as he saw for the first time the true face of Angelus. 



As the true depths of his horrendous visage registered in his 

mind, Angel wondered how he could ever learn to live with 

this knowledge. A single blood tear dropped from one eye as 

he gazed in utter disgust at his own image.

Part Two

It hadn't taken Spike very long to get ready to go. Fear, panic 
and an overdose of adrenaline will do that to a bloke. Within 
minutes, he had Xander buckled into the passenger seat of the 
dark colored motor and all of the packs and bags the Scooby 
Gang had brought with them tossed carelessly into the back 
seat. 

A brief and hurried look through the car proved that there 
wasn't a spare set of keys lying around, but Spike didn't care. 
He just ripped the casing off of the steering column and hot- 
wired the ignition. Glancing down at the gas gage, Spike 
determined that there was enough petrol in the sedan to get 
them back to Sunnydale. He figured that by the time they got 
there it would be close to morning and they would find 
someplace to hide during the day. 

As soon as the sun set, they could steal a bigger and better 
vehicle...most likely a truck of some sort, grab everything of 
value and then head towards L.A. Hopefully, things wouldn't 
deteriorate too quickly. They were in no shape to battle their 
way into the city. 

One last quick check to make sure Xander was buckled in and 
as comfortable as he could be made, Spike was ready to go. 
Throwing the car into drive, he pulled away from the 
abandoned gas station turned battlefield in a cloud of choking 
dust. He hit the road at a reckless rate of speed and sent the car 
into a tire screeching spin in an effort to get it pointed in the 
right direction. 

At first, the road was difficult to maneuver on. It was littered 
with the broken bodies of the Knights of Byzantium as well as 
their horses. Spike simply thumped over the smaller hunks of 
flesh, but he was forced to swerve around many of the larger ones. 
Finally, the road became clear of obstacles. One smooth, 
straight piece of black asphalt disappearing into the horizon. 

He floored it. 

The engine whined and screamed at the abuse, but eventually 
the transmission caught up with the punishing speed Spike was 
forcing from the old and battered car. 

For five whole minutes the ride was peaceful and quiet, just a 
soft tuneless humming noise coming from Xander that blended 
eerily with the white noise of the tires on the road and the 
engine straining under the bonnet. Then the shakes hit. 

They started as a small tremor in his right hand. Tiny, subtle... 
easy to ignore. That one little tremor grew and grew until it 
eventually encompassed Spike's entire body. His eyes filled up 
with blood-tinged tears and streamed down his cheeks. 
Unneeded breath hitched in his chest as wracking sobs forced 
their way out of him. 

He almost pulled over to the side of the road until his...anxiety 
attack passed, but he forced himself to continue on. Biting down 
on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, Spike desperately 
tried to pull himself under control. The sharp bright pain was 
new enough and focused enough to allow him to fight back the 
tremors and to calm himself to the point where he could once 
again stop breathing. The tears, however, continued to roll 
down his cheeks. 

In a flash of insight, Spike realized that it was the lack of 
anything else to focus on...the lack of *immediacy* that was 
allowing this wave of grief to engulf him. The silence and the 
lack of necessarily intense focus and concentration was giving 
him the opportunity to fall apart. That was an illusion and Spike 
knew it. It was *very* important that they get 
away...somewhere safe, or lacking that, get to some allies. 
Even allies that neither he nor Xander were on the best of terms 
with. 

What he couldn't understand was, why the destruction of the 
Scooby Gang had hit him so hard. And as much as it would 
embarrass him to admit it, their deaths *were* hurting him. 
Badly. But why? He had often dreamed of tearing them down 
and killing them all. Why would seeing them die, here and 
now, bother him so very much? Was it because of Glory 
opening the Mystic Gates? Or was it because he actually 
*liked* the Slayer and her groupies? 

Spike rolled the idea around in his head...as much for a way to 
distract himself from his own grief so that he, hopefully, 
wouldn't break down again as it was a way for him to 
understand his intense reaction. 

After a few moments of consideration, Spike realized that yes, 
he was upset by the turn of events. He had no desire to see 
Glory win because of what the world would become...and 
unfortunately she *did* win. And now Spike would have no 
choice...the world was going to be slowly ripped to pieces 
because of it. 

It wasn't that simple however. Glory's triumph and her 
subsequent destruction of the realities pissed him off. He was 
mad about that, but anger was an emotion that he had long since 
learned to control. Not the other way around. 

No. This went deeper then anger and it was much more 
personal as well. 

Spike was being swamped with the one emotion that always 
pulled him down and swarmed him under. Grief. Deep, heart 
rending, mind twisting grief. 

Grief for the ex-demon of Xander's. The only one who truly 
came close to understanding what it was like to live with the 
chip. She too had been forcibly parted from her ability to maim, 
torture and kill humans...and she had suffered just as much as 
he did. Thinking of her, he felt a surge of happiness for her that 
Xander had taken her in, given her love and encouragement and 
a steady hand to help her adjust to her enforced mortality...even 
as he felt a swell of jealousy that no one had offered the same to 
him. 

Then he thought of the witches and he felt a rush of grief once 
more. Those two chits had offered him sympathy and kindness 
when no one else did. It was the little things that never really 
registered until just now when he knew he'd never see them 
again. Plates of homemade cookies. Soft smiles and welcoming 
nods of acknowledgement. Whispered inquiries as to how he was 
feeling or waht he was doing. Compassionate understanding when 
the others thought he was 'just being Spike'. 

And the Watcher? The other Englishman had been a bit of a 
relief to Spike's sensibilities at times, although he'd never ever 
told the man. The accent, the mannerisms, even the way he held 
his ever present cup of tea had all carried shades of hearth and 
home for Spike. He had traveled all over the world in his time 
and after a while it was nice to ensconce himself in a totally and 
thoroughly British atmosphere. Giles' flat was almost a haven 
during those times when teenaged American pop-culture 
seemed to be beating at his very brain. 

The Slayer was a whole other story. Spike hated her with a 
burning passion that was almost holy in it's intensity. And he 
loved her equally as much. She had gone from being a goal, 
another notch in his belt of victories, to being an annoying 
necessity...and then from there she had grown into the 
obsessive center of his very universe. His entire reason for 
being. 

That's when understanding hit him. 
**********

When he had first met them, the Slayer and her chums were, at 
least in his own mind, his Sire's 'Pet Humans'. He didn't see 
them as individuals beyond what they were called and what 
they looked like. At that point in time, they had no true 
meaning or purpose to him beyond a way to hurt Angel and a 
means of consolidating his power over the denizens of the 
Hellmouth. 

Over time, that had all changed. 

First, he began to see them as more than just faces. He learned a 
bit about what they could do. Not a lot, just enough to be able 
to figure out what it was about them that made his Sire believe 
they were worthy of his claim and protection. They had 
practically grown up before his very eyes...even if he didn't 
know all of the details of their lives, he knew the basics. 

Then, after the chip, it all changed again. He didn't just watch 
them from the sidelines; he interacted with them and became a 
part of their lives. He slowly but surely became one of them. 

Giles and Xander had been his sometime roommates. 

Anya had been his confidant, the person he swapped stories of 
'once upon a times' and 'if I still coulds' with. 

The witches had been his friends. It was that simple. 

Dawn had been like a little sister. She trusted him. He hadn't 
been trusted by anyone since the night he had been turned and 
the feelings that stirred in him had been powerful. 

And Buffy. He had loved her. Wanted her. Was willing to die 
for her. 

Somehow, between there and here, then and now, the Slayer 
and her Scoobies had gone from being *Angel's* Pet Humans to 
*Spike's* Pet Humans...at least in his unbeating heart. It just 
took their deaths for that vital information to reach his brain. 

That's why he was grieving their deaths. They had been his 
family...and now they were gone. Dead. No vampire took the final 
death of a family member well...and none ever killed their 
own. Angel had been the only one to do that as far as Spike 
knew, but then again, Angel had a soul when he staked Darla 
and souled beings have been killing family members since the 
dawn of time. 

It was that whole free-will thing. Beings with souls can choose 
to ignore their primal instincts. Beings without a soul can not. 
And a vampire's instinct is to protect the family at all costs...no 
matter how much you hate them. Spike just hoped Angel would 
hear him out first, instead of just staking him on sight. 

Spike was pulled out of his increasingly circular thoughts by 
Xander suddenly bouncing up and down in his seat as far as the 
restraining belt would let him. The broken young man began to 
beat his palms against the passenger-side window, even as he 
pressed his nose up to the glass. 

"Bubbly fire and black floaties. Bubbly fire and black floaties. 
Raining, raining, raining black floaties in the air." 

Spike glanced over to see what had caught Xander's attention 
and gasped. Quickly pulling over to the side of the road, he 
stared out the windshield with a mix of amazement and horror. 
Two Mystical Gates were forming out on the desert sand. One 
was flat on the ground and one about a hundred feet up in the 
air directly above it. 

They both grew bigger and bigger at an alarming rate. The one 
lying flat on the ground shimmered and pulsed with ripples as it 
expanded, chewing up and swallowing desert rock and sand as 
it's border grew. In it's wake, that ripple of energy left behind a 
grotesquely changed landscape. Sandstone, shale, pebbly sand 
and limestone became black volcanic glass, boiling red lava and 
brimstone. Clouds of black volcanic ash flew up into the air in 
big thick gouts, only to drift back down like evil snow, 
coating everything in darkness. 

The new land also brought its denizens with it. Large creatures 
that seemed a demented blending of insect and lizard. Their 
bodies were armored and sectioned like an insect, but they were 
put together with a more lizard like design and purpose. 
Rending claws, fang studded maws and long whip-like tails. 

Spike shuddered in horrified awe. 

Not to be outdone, the Mystic Gate in the air shimmered and 
expanded across the sky, the inky star-studded field vanishing 
into it. Multi hued soft light in a pale rainbow of glittering 
colors began to pour forth from the pulsing tear in reality. 
Along with the light came mythical beings of such beauty and 
grace that Spike couldn't help but suck in a breath of air. 

"Bloody Hell..." 

Xander also seemed impressed. 

"So pretty...feathers and sparkly gems. So very pretty." 

And they were. Several winged horses flew out of the Gate. 
They were pure white with flowing manes and huge feathered 
wings. Their hooves sparked streams of silver and gold glitter 
in the air as they galloped along the wind currents and they 
carried armored women upon their backs. 

Right behind the Pegasi and the Valkyrie came a flight of 
Gryphons, their eagle beaks screaming a war-cry into the night 
even as their great wings held their leonine bodies aloft. 

Spike had only a quick moment to enjoy their grace and beauty 
as they glided through the rainbow colored air before chaos 
descended. The insectoid creatures from the lava pits spotted 
the airborne warriors above and they howled with an eerie, high 
pitched whine that began to hurt Spike's sensitive ears with its 
intensity. 

One after another, the demonic creatures on the ground cracked 
open the armored plating down the middle of their backs to 
reveal transparent and painfully thin wings. Revulsion churning 
his stomach, he watched as those wings began to beat. Slowly 
at first, but then faster and faster until the very air around them 
hummed and vibrated with the sound of it. Then, almost as one, 
the demons leapt up off of the ground and tore into the sky, 
attacking the creatures above. 

With a morbid sense of excitement and fascination that only a 
demon could appreciate, Spike watched as the battle begun in 
earnest. The demons attacked with claw and tooth as they tried 
to latch onto their victim and shred it apart. The feathered 
creatures from the land of rainbows worked hard to knock their 
opponent from the sky, or to slice it to ribbons with claw or 
sword. 

Blows were exchanged and pain filled cries shattered the air. 
Blood rained down from the sky above; red, yellow and blue. It 
was a glorious display of power, skill and courage. 

Then a dead insectoid came hurtling from the air above to slam 
down onto the ground right in front of the car hard enough to 
shake the vehicle. Spike flinched back on reflex, but Xander 
cringed and tried to crawl onto Spike's lap, tears of fear and 
panic rolling down his face. 

"No. No. No. Chunks and pieces falling. Chunks and pieces 
everywhere." 

Spike turned and worked quickly to undo Xander's seat belt 
before he could hurt himself trying to get free of it. 
Wrapping one arm around the disturbed young man's shoulder, 
he pulled Xander in tight to his side. 

"You're right Pet. Time to leave...while we still can." 

Then using one hand, Spike violently turned the wheel and 
pulled back onto the highway. The car lurched sickeningly as 
he ran over the ruined corpse of the demon, but he didn't care. 
They had just escaped one battlefield as the only survivors...he 
didn't want to wait around to see if their luck...such as it was, 
would continue to hold. It was time to get out...while the 
getting was good. 

Xander continued to babble his insane ramblings in Spike's ear, 
but he didn't pay attention to the words. He was too busy trying 
to get them out of there in one piece. He merely took comfort in 
the young man's heat pressed tightly to him and let the sound of 
Xander's voice sooth him as he swerved around the objects...and 
body parts, that continued to rain out of the sky. 

After about ten minutes of reckless and desperate driving, they 
finally reached the edge of the battle zone. Spike didn't let up 
on the gas, instead, he floored it once again. He wanted to put 
as much distance between them and the aerial war as he 
possibly could. He kept checking his rearview mirror, but that 
didn't stop him from worrying about an attack from above. He 
only hoped that the fact that they were on the ground would 
keep them from being noticed as a concern. 

His panic and fear once more up to their highest levels, Spike 
drove on into the night. His destination...Sunnydale.

TBC