Chapter Ten

Spike looked up at the rumble of the factory door opening and arched his brow in surprise. Well, now. They certainly looked... different.

Jenny was wearing a black leather top that barely covered more than the average bra, a tiny matching skirt, and black boots that came up to nearly her knees. Her navel was pierced with a shining hoop, and encircled with a small tattoo of a dragon biting its tail. Over it all, she wore gauzy, transparent black jacket that reached a bit lower than the skirt itself on her thighs.

Ripper completed their matched set with black leather pants, a white wife beater, and a thick leather biker’s jacket adorned with various shining silver hoops and buckles. He wore a thick chain around his neck, and in his left ear was a hoop with a small skull dangling down. The sleeve of the jacket was pushed up a bit on the arm he had around Jenny, and Spike could see a studded leather band around that wrist that matched the studded leather collar around Jenny’s neck.

Spike’s brow crept a bit higher, and he intoned, “Well, lookee what we have here. Two escapees from the local biker’s convention. Been awhile since you’ve been young and hip, has it, ‘Ripper’?”

The newly turned vamp shot him a scathing look, and then he dug into one of the jacket’s pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tossed it to Spike.

“That your brand?” he asked.

Spike quickly glanced at the label.

“Sure is.” He suddenly felt a bit more charitable. “Thanks.”

Ripper dropped into one of the chairs and pulled Jenny into what was becoming her accustomed place on his lap.

“Well, let’s just say the chap I obtained them from will--no longer be needing them,” Ripper said, with an ironic quirk of his brow. He pulled a pair of cigarettes out of his own pack, handed one to Jenny, and lit his own and hers with an expensive-looking chrome Zippo.

Spike huffed a laugh in spite of himself.

“You know, a pitiful taste for too much--” he paused, frowned, then said, “Or possibly too little--leather aside, you could be all right.”

“Hmm,” Ripper mumbled around the cigarette, then plucked it out of his mouth and tapped the ash onto the floor, leaning in to nuzzle Jenny’s neck. Spike rolled his eyes and wondered if he and Dru were that bad.

And then, as though his thoughts alone had conjured her, the factory door rolled open again, and his princess floated in.

“Dru, baby,” he called, and she rolled her head towards him.

“My Spike. It’s been so long. And I was cold. And the baby... it screamed so loudly.”

He smiled and held out his hand.

“Come here, my pet. I’ve missed you.”

She drifted closer to him, swaying back and forth with every step, like a feather floating to the ground. She clasped his hand in her own and drew it up to her lips, but she didn’t bite or lick, just dragged his fingers over her lips. He watched her fondly, unable to stop a smile from crossing his own lips.

“Did you have a good hunt, pet?” he said, as her eyes drifted shut and she hummed.

“It was... like a tree...”

He grinned.

“Was it now?”

“It was like a vampire, eating a man. Like most hunts.”

Spike frowned as Dru immediately detached from him and flowed off in the direction of the new voice. Angel. He sighed, and again battled back the urge to leap up and kill the bastard. All in good time.

He watched, feeling the rage simmer, as Dru bumped up against her sire, curling her hands into fists around bits of his shirt.

“Jenny,” Angel said. He didn’t even acknowledge Dru with anything more than an absent hand, laid on the small of her back, but she curled back against that hand and her mouth dropped open in a wide-mouth grin, as though she were in the heights of pleasure. Angel talked on, oblivious. “I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” Jenny’s petulant voice drew his attention over to that side of the table. Ripper was game-faced, and his nuzzling seemed to have changed to nibbling. Also, one of his hands was somewhere in Jenny’s lap.

“Yes. Now.”

Angel strode over pulled out the chair at the head of the table, sprawling in it and crossing his feet up on the table. Dru looked after her sire dazedly from where he’d left her, standing in the middle of the room. Then, like a determined little dust mote, she began to gravitate in his direction. Spike sighed again.

Jenny rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back.

“Fine. So talk.”

Angel swung his feet back down onto the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“This little spell of yours. What exactly does it do? And what would one need to do it?”

Ripper plucked his cigarette from his mouth and said, “Spell?”

Jenny glanced back at him, then turned back to Angel.

“It’s an old-style gypsy curse. It restores a vampire’s soul. If the vampire experiences a moment of true happiness, boom, no more soul. You know all this.”

“Hold up, just a moment,” Ripper said, suddenly, “you knew this spell? And you didn’t find it prudent to tell us this little detail?”

Jenny shot him an exasperated look.

“It’s the reason Angel killed me, Ripper. I’d just figured it out.”

But, Spike was still staring hard at Ripper, a bit shocked. That was the first time he’d seen even a flash, really, of the man Ripper used to be. Any sign at all that Ripper really even remembered or cared about his former life. Hell, even his accent had changed since he’d been turned.

“Anyway,” Jenny was saying, “You need an orb of Thesula to serve as a vessel to summon the human soul from the ether. That’s the only rare thing you’d need. The rest of the stuff’s a dime a dozen at any herbal store in the world.”

“How many are there?”

“What? Orbs? I dunno. Maybe fifty or so left in the world? They’re really not used for much.”

“Got one in my office,” Ripper said, firmly back in his new form, “I could fetch it for you. The children can’t lock me out of there.”

Spike looked quickly over at Angel, and didn’t miss the speculative gleam in his eye when he said, “That would be good of you, Rupert. Why don’t you do that? Hey, you could even get some of your books while you were there.” Dru came up behind Angel and draped her arms over his shoulder. He folded his hands over her slim forearms and looked up, his face lost behind a curtain of her dark hair. Spike fumed. “Night’s still youngish. Why don’t you go now?”

Ripper took a draw of his cigarette and then said, “Just might do that. Care to join me, love?” he added to the woman in his lap.

“Got nothing better to do.”

Spike watched the pair stand up in disbelief. His mouth was probably hanging open, but what the hell. Just as they started for the door, he pulled himself out of the shock.

“You bloody idiots.”

Everyone stopped, and then turned to look at him.

“He’s setting you up. Can’t you see that?”

“Spike-” Angel said, and it was clearly a warning.

“Sod off, you big poof.” Then, to Ripper, who was looking at him like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this, “You really think that the Slayer would let you just waltz into that library? Don’t be a git. You were a smart man when you were alive, *Rupert.* What happened to you?

Apparently, Angel couldn’t resist opening his big mouth, even at a moment like this, and he said, “He’s two days turned, Spike. You and I both know that vampires that age don’t operate on all cylinders.”

“Hey, now,” Jenny protested.

Angel rambled on, oblivious.

“Besides, I’m not setting anyone up. He knows the Slayer. He knows what she can do. He’ll be fine.”

“Like hell he will. You just said it yourself. He’s two days old, fer crying out loud.” He turned to Ripper. “Don’t. Just don’t. You wanna live longer than two weeks, you’ll do well to lay low for a bit. That Slayer... you don’t trifle with her.” He shot a long look at Angel as he said the last words.

“Huh. So what, exactly, were *you* trying to do?”

“Me? I was trying to kill the girl, not piss her off.”

“Actually, you *were* doing a fair job of pissing her off.”

“Yeah, well, least I was *trying* to do the right thing. You don’t see *me* turning her bloody Watcher and piddling around with her best friend’s pets.”

“What, exactly, is your point, here?”

“I see what you’re trying to do, mate. You want her to kill him. You think it’ll make her weak. You think she won’t be able to live with herself after turning her own Watcher to dust. Well you know what, Angelus? You’re wrong. You know what it’ll do? All it’ll do is make her realize that he’s a demon, and you... are... too. And then, she’ll come here. And she’ll kill you. And then, she’ll kill me. And maybe, she’ll even manage to kill Dru. And you know what else? I am not going to stand for it.”

Dru cried out suddenly, her high, wavering voice slicing through the sudden silence in the factory. “Oh. Oh, oh, oh.”

“Dru. Dru, baby-”

She staggered back, and he spun his chair, hurrying to reach her, and just managing to catch her and pull her into his lap before she fell to the hard floor. She was skin and bones against him, delicate and wonderful, and he held her close.

“Easy, baby, easy.”

“Oh, Spike. It’s bad. Bad bad.”

“Shhh. I’ve got you. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, kitten.”

“All the world’s falling down... all the world. All of the family. Dust and dust.”

“No, no, baby. Never. I won’t let it happen.”

“Dust, dust, I *see* it, I see it floating, floating down... Oooh!”

She curled into him, and he wrapped the sides of his coat around her quaking body, still making reassuring noises as he looked up and found all of the other eyes in the place on him. He looked Ripper straight in the eye, and saw, for just a single moment, something more stir there. And then, Ripper looked over to Angel.

“Is this true?” he said, his voice quiet and calm.

The corner of Angel’s mouth twitched, in something, maybe a grimace, maybe a smile. It was hard to tell.

“What Dru said? ‘Course not.”

“What Spike said. Is. It. True?”

Angel pursed his lips, steepled his fingers, and finally peered up through his lashes at Ripper.

“Look, Rupert, buddy, nothing personal. It’s all just part of the plan.”

Ripper growled, and his stance changed, subtly, becoming looser, more balanced, the stance of a seasoned and talented fighter going on guard. Angel stood up, not quickly, just being prepared. He even pushed the chair back in behind him. And then, he too settled into the fighting groove, going game face and spreading his hands slightly to his sides.

“You want to fight me, Rupert? You’ll just die now, instead of later. I’m two hundred years older than you.”

“You’re a coward and a blind idiot, Angelus. And you always were,” Ripper replied.

Dru wailed into Spike’s chest and he held her a bit tighter, and he felt a thrill pass through him. Someone was going to die, and before they did there was going to be a bloody good romp. He grinned in spite of himself, and settled back to enjoy the show.

Across the room, he saw that Jenny had backed well out of the way and was watching the two male vamps as they made a slow circuit around each other. Her dark brows were drawn together with concern, and it wasn’t unwarranted. If Ripper was the one to take the fall, no doubt Jenny herself wouldn’t be far behind.

Angel made the first move, darting towards Ripper, going for his throat. Ripper dodged easily, and caught one of Angel’s arms, then used his own momentum to send him crashing off into the cluttered debris off to Spike’s left. Angel rebounded off the junk, angling himself towards Ripper, reacting just in time to block a kick aimed at his head, and then reply with a solid blow to Ripper’s side with his own foot, sending the younger vampire reeling back out into the middle of the floor.

They met again out there, and the fight continued, with neither seeming to gain the upper hand. These were two expert fighters, well-matched in strength and ability. It was like watching a ballet--or at least, it would be, if ballet included growling, swearing and bloodletting. It was a hell of a thing.

Then, Spike noticed Jenny again. She was moving away from the fight. Not a bad idea in general, but she seemed to be moving with more purpose than one who is simply getting out of the way. When she stopped and opened one of the vampires’ crates, he understood. Oh, clever woman.

She returned to the fight with a long sword in her hand.

“Ripper!” she called, and after a moment, Ripper caught Angel with another good kick and fell back a pace or two, spinning towards Jenny. She grinned and tossed him the sword, point down. He snatched it out of the air and immediately arced it up to ready, and suddenly, Spike knew beyond a doubt who this fight belonged to.

Angel’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dashing circuit around the room, keeping as far from Ripper as possible. Ripper just turned in one place, keeping Angel in front of him, but not attempting to pursue him. Honor. This was honor. What an odd trait in a vampire.

No. Wait.

Angel reached the weapons chest and frantically hauled out his own sword, turning back in Ripper’s direction as quickly as possible.

Not honor, Spike realized. This was the cat toying with the mouse. Ripper’s eyes glittered, and he settled down in a fighting stance, one foot slightly back, his free hand out just enough for balance. Angel stayed where he was, similarly braced, and they stared at each other across the factory.

“Afraid?” Ripper asked.

“Not a bit. You?” Angel retorted.

“Hardly. There’s more room to play out here. Are you going to join me, or do I have to come over there?”

And, then, for good measure, Ripper lowered his sword, resting the tip of it on the floor at his side. After a moment, Angel edged closer, keeping his own weapon at the ready until he finally came within striking distance. Ripper calmly raised his sword again and dropped back into position, crossing their blades between them. Their eyes locked together.

“En guard,” Ripper whispered, and the real fight began.

Spike’s grin widened further as he watched the swordplay. Blades glinted in the light as the two combatants worked their way up and down the factory floor, and the walls reverberated with the clang of metal on metal. The fight moved over closer to him and stalled there, giving him a good view of the proceedings, but not close enough for him to worry about Dru’s safety just yet.

For a moment, Angel and Ripper locked swords, and Ripper glanced in his direction, a wicked grin of his own on his face, just before springing back away from Angel, laughing.

“Enjoying yourself, Spike?” he shouted, above the sound of the the swords coming together again as Angel lunged towards him.

Spike laughed. So, the placement of this little sparring match was no accident. Neither, he was beginning to realize, was very little else that Ripper was doing in this fight. Angel was the attacker in almost every move, and Ripper was blocking each blow with ease, his every movement measured and deliberate. And, where Angel looked like he was giving it his all, or was, at least, deadly serious, Ripper looked like he was simply enjoying the hell out of himself.

That went on for a few minutes, and then Spike saw the moment that the fun went out of the fight, and it was in earnest again. Angel fell back immediately, suddenly struggling just to block the rain of blows, until Ripper got him backed into the center of the room.

Their swords locked together again, and they were leaned in close to each other, eye to eye. Ripper snarled softly, and then, with a sudden twist of his wrist, he neatly flicked Angel’s sword out of his hand. He caught it behind his own back, and Angel backpedaled frantically. But not quite frantically enough.

Ripper slammed Angel’s own sword low through his gut.

Dru howled, and Angel made a small gasping sound.

Still holding the sword that impaled him, Ripper stepped up close to Angel, and whispered to him.

“Ripper,” Angel gasped, after a moment, his eyes wide. “Your name. Ripper. Definitely.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Ripper said, then jerked the sword up, slicing through Angel’s abdomen from his belly to his collar bone. Angel grunted, and fell to his knees. Ripper turned his back to him. Angel clutched the sword in his chest and stared up at him as he began to move off.

So, he was going to let him live. Not so bad, Spike supposed, he could be a useful-

Ripper spun around, and his sword cut cleanly through Angel’s neck.

Then he walked away, the dust swirling in his wake.

Spike stared, mouth open in shock. He’d thought... but... dust... Angelus dust...

He looked back towards Ripper, who’d stopped when he reached the table, where he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and shook one out. With the cigarette between his lips, he looked back at Spike.

“Think I’ll wait on getting that orb from the library,” he said, then flicked open his lighter.

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