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The More Things Change	By : slashtheboyz Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander Views: 12377 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or AtS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
Following their map, it didn’t take long to find what, for all intents and purposes, was the base camp of evil for this apocalyptic go round. Spike turned off the headlights and let his game face come forward as he navigated as close to the place as he could manage without announcing their presence to the bad guys. Then they sat there and watched the place for a while.
“Do a turn about Spike,” Xander requested quietly. “We need the back end pointed toward the building.”
Spike shot a quick glance at Xander that asked all sorts of silent questions, but did as Xander asked. An evil grin stretched across Xander’s face and his eyes lit with pure deviltry as he watched the winery through the windshield. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I’m gonna get you my evil ugly, you and your little bringers too, heee heee heee heee heee,” he cackled.

Spike rolled his eyes, reached over and whapped his enthusiastic love on the back of the head. Xander yelped and pouted. “Ouch! No beating up of the Xan man, the Xan man with the evil smiting plan,” Xander babbled as he tumbled pell mell out the door, bounced around to the back and snatched open the tailgate.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna babble ‘em to death, luv?” Spike laughed at Xander’s antics as he followed him around to the rear of the vehicle. Xander’s eyes gleamed wickedly as he anticipated wreaking bloody mayhem, and hoped for some lovely hands on violence. His excitement was an electric buzz in the link. He all but jittered in place. Spike thought Xander might vibrate right out of his skin. “I’ve got your babble right here.” Xander muttered as he pounced without warning and tried to remove Spike’s tonsils with his tongue. Xander growled with frustrated pleasure as the kiss turned hot. Then he was gone, and he left Spike a stunned rubber legged mess leaning against the Escalade for support. Spike shook his head and laughed again as he tried to gather enough strength in his legs to stand upright, it all seemed to be in his groin. His Xander could make the Energizer Bunny look like a nursing home candidate.
Xander happily scrounged in the boxes and bags they had filled at the armory and let out a pleased growl as he lifted a rocket launcher out of one box and a grenade launcher out of another. He turned to Angel and shoved the rocket launcher into his hands. Angel grabbed it before it fell as Xander let go of it. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked Xander as he examined it cautiously. To Spike’s amusement Angel looked for all the world as if the thing might come to life and bite him; the silly wanker. Wesley stood by silently and looked on with bright curious eyes.

Xander smirked. “Blow up the evil dudes.” He thought for a second then added “, and dudettes. We’re equal opportunity blower uppers. Have to be PC these days ya know. Besides that one ought to look familiar, Angel. You’ve seen one of those before.”
“I have?” Angel’s brows drew together in confusion. “When?”
Xander shook his head and patted Angel’s arm in mock sympathy. “Spike I really don’t want to get old and decrepit like pops here. I’ll lose all my marbles. Please promise to stake me if I start losing all my marbles.”
Angel growled.
Spike leaned against the tailgate and grinned at his grandsire. “You remember the judge?”
Angel nodded slowly, then as he remembered his face lit up with anticipation. Xander looked up from his boxes and laughed outright. “Awww isn’t that cute, a vamp and his rocket launcher. There’s nothing like a nice round of blowing shit up to darken a vamps’ night and get the broody out.”
Wesley made a choked laugh sound. “You alright there Wes?” Xander eyed him then reached into another box and pulled out an automatic rifle and reached into a carry all pulling out a length of ammo. “OK Wesley. This one’s for you.”
Wesley stepped forward, accepted the weapon with one hand, and slung the ammo over his shoulder with the other. “I’m not familiar with this type of weapon,” he muttered, as he looked it over.
“That’s okay Wes; I’ll show you how it works. It’s not hard,” Xander said as he pulled another piece out of the box. He turned to Wesley pulled the rifle up while Wesley watched, and attached the short tube like device to the bottom with a brisk shove, it snapped into place with a click. “That’s a grenade launcher. So you have an automatic weapon and a grenade launcher in one handy dandy package. I’m giving you the rifle because of the blow back from the other stuff. I don’t want you to get burned. Just don’t get behind any of us while we’re firing the grenade launchers, or the rocket launcher. I haven’t used these models before, and I’m not sure how much blowback there will be, if any. And don’t touch the tubes anywhere after they’ve been fired. They’re hot enough to burn you bad. Got it?”
He turned from Wesley with a grin at the enthusiastic nod and picked up the grenade launcher. He gave it a few loving strokes as he looked at Spike with a smirk. “This one is for you my love.” Then he grabbed the twin to it from the box and laughed darkly.
*********************************

The fog didn’t settle around the winery, and the night was eerily quiet except for a fitful breeze. The branches of a tree swayed in the on again off again breeze and threw splotchy shadows that moved restlessly on the front of the building. The letters of the sign on the front played hide and seek with the branches and the one light that didn’t do much to lessen the gloom under the branches. Spike looked at the sign and stifled his amusement. He couldn’t read all the letters because of the branches but it looked very much like the sign said Shadow Acres Winery. Ironic that.
The bringers came and went through the front door at odd intervals to do some mysterious errands or other, singly or in pairs, but never more than three together. He couldn’t tell what the nasty things were up to, but whatever it was, it didn’t matter much. They’d all be dead goners instead of live bringers before the night was done, if he had any say about it. And fancy that! He did have a say. He smirked and adjusted the weight of the grenade launcher lying across his thighs as he squatted in the shadows, and waited for the signal to begin the assault on the winery.
Spike shook his head, pursed his lips, and tried the link, but Xander had his end closed down to a trickle. His Xander was bloody brilliant, he was. He had given them quick down and dirty lessons on how to work the weapons without frying themselves, and positioned them at four different points approximately eighty yards out from the building. The distance was well within the range of their weapons, but far enough out to take care of any stragglers that might escape and try to reach them before they were through blasting the place to bits and pieces.
Angel had looked a little stunned by what they were doing, and how they were doing it. It was just another example of how truly dangerous Xander was, Spike thought with awed pride. He didn’t think like just a vamp. He also had modern warfare and weapons knowledge stuffed in his head, along with Satan knows what all else. And he didn’t see the sense in trying to defeat a foe of overwhelming numbers with only stakes and swords that only took out one bad guy at a time. Spike grinned to himself and caressed the rocket launcher laid across his knees. Xander went for equalizers that would take out hundreds at one time with minimal risk to his small band of companions. Even supernatural critters couldn’t stand against the force of these weapons, as The Judge had learned so long ago. It would take some serious mojo to defeat the sheer explosive power involved. Spike snorted softly. Even then, the mojo probably couldn’t contain more than one explosion from a grenade or rocket.
The boy’s multiple spirits, souls, memories, whatever they were, made him a force to be reckoned with. Spike would bet a month of living on miss piggy that The First hadn’t ever thought about this little scenario. Thank all the demons in hell it didn’t know anything about modern weapons, or they’d all have met a final death by now. The First’s game playing was gonna be its downfall.
It was a bloody good thing that no other night crawlers with modern ideas had come to the Hellmouth or Buffy would have been dead ten times over. A slayer might be strong and have advanced healing on her side, but a bullet in the brain would kill a slayer just like any other mortal. Xander wasn’t interested in playing games, he wasn’t interested in challenges. His only goal was to win the quickest most efficient way with as few losses to their side as possible. And he didn’t mind fighting dirty to get the job done. Yeah, goal oriented, that’s what mortals these days called it, Spike chuckled. Spike called it single minded and right out ruthless. Angelus was a toddler in nappies in comparison. He shuddered to think what would have happened had Xander been turned and the soul hadn’t been stuck in there nice and tight.
Xander gave the signal to begin the assault.
Spike stood and stretched, then flipped the safety to the off position on the grenade launcher. A feral grin graced his face. Oh yeah, this was gonna be fun. Events went according to the strategy Xander had outlined; Angel fired a rocket through the front door first. The ground vibrated and the front of the building exploded into fragments and a roiling cloud of flame. A deadly rain of shrapnel made of burned boards and unidentifiable debris flew up and out from the hole, propelled by the force of the explosion. Immediately Xander, Wesley, and Spike fired their weapons and launched a staggered volley of two grenades each into the broken building. A few bringers staggered out of the inferno in various stages of immolation, Wesley switched to automatic rifle fire and mowed them down. More debris blew upward and outward from the gutted building following the six smaller detonations and the fire grew larger and began to engulf the entire structure as they watched.
Then things went a little pear shaped. A small blond figure came stumbling out of the decimated building holding the neckline of her shirt over her nose and mouth, with a scythe clutched in the other hand. Her clothes were shredded and burnt. She coughed, staggered, and weaved erratically as she stumbled away from the ruins of the building. Angel dropped the rocket launcher and ran to scoop Buffy up in his arms to get her out of harm’s way, with Wesley close behind. Angel set Buffy on the ground and she leaned against him as he ran his hands over her arms and legs checking for injuries. She coughed and tried to catch enough breath to talk.
Another figure came shambling out of the fiery ruin. His face was a combination of burnt and bloody flesh, his priestly garb ripped, the collar torn away, and it still smoldered in places. One sleeve was nothing but tatters and the bared arm was a hideous mass of burns and torn skin. A long thick sliver of wood impaled the filthy thigh of the shredded leg he dragged behind him. Buffy, who still struggled to breath, was the sole focus of Angel’s attention; her red-rimmed eyes, irritated by the smoke and chemicals, watered copiously and the tears that overflowed left clean tracks on her soot darkened face. But she held onto the scythe with a death grip.
Caleb lurched along as he dragged his leg and came up behind an oblivious Wesley, caught him by the shoulder and spun him around; the ex watcher’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of the bloody mangled thing that confronted him. Before Wesley could back away or gather himself to strike out, Caleb took the ex watcher’s head in both hands. The evil preacher couldn’t speak through his smoke and fire scorched throat. But his ruined face contorted with hatred and rage that transformed it into a nightmare mask as he placed his thumbs over Wesley’s eyes and began to press in as the ex watcher stood rooted to the spot. Profiled by the flames that still burned with a hellish light, the two of them looked like a priest and supplicant caught up in some macabre ritual blessing of the damned.
Spike and Xander had started to run toward the building when they saw Caleb stagger out after Buffy. Spike poured everything he had into vampiric speed and reached them first; he jumped over Angel and Buffy in a flat-footed leap and snatched Wesley away from the mangled maniac by the collar of his shirt, and flung him toward Xander who was a breath behind him. Xander caught Wesley and dragged him back away from the scene to a safe distance. Buffy turned her soot streaked face toward the disturbance in time to see Spike continue his spin and kick the wounded Caleb. Caleb staggered back, and wobbled, but didn’t go down. The deranged creature breathed through his mouth with a horrible wheeze and rattle that everyone could hear above the crackle of flames that were consuming the building.
Buffy pushed away from Angel, used the scythe as a lever to push herself wearily to her feet and walked slowly to the would-be priest of evil. She made a sudden move and the scythe flashed up between Caleb’s legs, and at the apex of the swing after it sheared through the top of his skull, she turned it sideways and brought it around in a whistling glittering arc. Time seemed to freeze for the observers. For a long moment nothing happened, then Caleb’s head wobbled and toppled slowly to the ground with a thud. It rolled and came to rest at Buffy’s feet then parted and fell in two pieces like a rotten fruit halved by a cleaver. The body split into two pieces that looked like slow motion photography, and fell in opposite directions. Buffy set the head of the scythe on the ground and leaned on the haft for support; she looked at the head, moved her gaze from one half of the body over to the other, then turned to look at the rest of them with a grin. “I guess he had to split.” She quipped brightly in a hoarse voice. Then she coughed again and collapsed to sit on the ground.
Xander left Wesley where he stood and rushed to Buffy. He flung his arms around her, hugged her, then grabbed her by the arms and shook her until her head wobbled, and then he hugged her again. All the while, he shouted, growled, and swore incoherently. Angel made a restive movement as if to interfere.
“Leave it be, ya wanker, he’s not hurtin’ the slayer.” Spike commented as he lit the end of a cigarette. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke skyward. “But I reckon he’s thinkin’ about warmin’ her arse with a paddle.”
Angel looked clueless and confused, as usual. Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. “Woulda thought bein’ around humans as bloody long as ya have, you’d know somethin’ about ‘em, peaches. The boy’s scared witless and glad she’s alive, but plenty mad as hell that she was where she shouldn’ta been, when she shouldn’ta been. Especially keepin’ us in the dark about what she was doin’. She coulda died in there because we didn’t know what she was up to. If we’d have known, we could have planned around it see.” Spike watched as he saw, and felt, Xander’s tizzy slowly wind down. The boy was still game faced as he cradled Buffy close to his chest with both arms, his chin rested on her sooty hair as he rocked her back and forth like a Mum comforting a wounded child.
- 30
- 31
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The More Things Change