Days Of Wine & Roses: Last Words
by Fairfax
Freedom Plaza was deserted, in common with most workers its guards had walked off the job. At least one had driven, knocking an entire section of security fence down.

As Buffy got closer to the actual structure her sharp eyes could make out movement in the shadows of the second floor. A figure leapt out from one of the windowless gaps, the elevation affording them just enough freedom to plummet momentarily then elegantly spread a vast set of wings and swoop low over the hill, before gaining altitude and flying towards the heart of the city. In a life that didn’t lack for weirdness, Buffy had just witnessed one of the most uncannily beautiful sights that she would ever see.

She crept into the building, the first floor was empty. Crouching in the stairwell Buffy saw that the second floor, bathed in the weak orange glow of temporary strip lights was most definitely occupied. There were ten people sat in a widely-spaced circle, chanting rhythmically. Every so often a Khatojanan would appear in the centre, then immediately run towards the take-off point.

Buffy twisted the Scythe around in her hand, they had to be demon and not human, and they looked to be consumed by whatever spell they were casting to summon more of their kind. It was ten against one, but she felt that they were good odds. Yet Buffy couldn’t do it. What if they were human? In her hands the Scythe was a deadly weapon, if she struck a person with it they’d die or if ‘lucky’ be hideously maimed. Some of the occupants of the circle were barely out of their teens, it was too great a risk. She would have to hang back until Giles successfully initiated the Reveal - that shouldn’t take long, Buffy was confident he could do it and knew that he’d be with her soon.

********************

Stumbling backwards over some debris, Spike retreated from Giles, panicking slightly and trying not to show it. He’d just spent ages provoking someone who now looked to be channelling some serious magics, and Spike was well aware what a ruthless bastard the man could be at the best of times.

He’d almost reached the window when he turned around, laying eyes on what was waiting outside.

‘Shit!’ He cursed and reluctantly, but quickly headed back deeper into the body of the store.

Giles had stood up, pulled himself together and was putting his glasses back on when Spike almost cannoned into him.

‘What happened to your eyes?’ Howled Spike in disappointment.

‘Nothing.’

‘They were black, thought you were surfing real power.’

‘Alas, the effects are extremely temporary,’ sighed Giles, already craving more.

‘Might regret that,’ as he spoke Spike nodded his head towards the window. ‘We’ve suddenly become very popular.’

There was a crowd on the sidewalk, pushing up against the storefront and extending into the road, each individual was glowing red.

********************

Buffy shielded her eyes as the second floor was suddenly lit up with flaring colour. Every member of the circle was tainted with it, her knuckles went white as she gripped the Scythe and got to work.

********************

‘They must somehow be able to perceive us as a threat and congregate accordingly,’ said Giles fascinated. ‘Tremendous speed, I-I wonder…’

‘Wonder later. Escaping now,’ broke in Spike. ‘Except there’s no back door, so we’re pretty much buggered.’

They began searching through the mess to find something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. The best they could come up with were two short sections of piping that could be wielded as clubs. Not that they’d be much use, they were hopelessly outnumbered, keeping low Giles and Spike inched forward to take a proper look at the situation - several members of the crowd were carrying guns.

‘That’s it, we’re totally fuc…’

The sentence died on Spike’s lips as with a shimmer the crowd changed from an untidy mass of people, into neat rows of angels.

‘They are not what you think,’ said Giles, before launching into a quick explanation of The Khatojanan’s presence and purpose.

Initially the effect was mesmeric. Standing a fraction under two metres tall, The Khatojanan appeared to be perfect angelic beings. Upon closer scrutiny, their armour was rusting and dented, their feathers ragged and oily and their shoulder length hair lank and slick with grease. The putrid smell of rotting flesh and sweat poured off them as they stood motionless and silent, faces void of any expression. The only part of them that looked clean were the broadswords each one was resting their hands on top of; they looked very impressive indeed.

********************
With the absolute focus of a natural warrior, Buffy didn’t allow The Khatojanan’s transformation to impede her at all and continued her attack. No sooner had she disptached one then another would materialize from inside the circle taking their place. More Khatojanan were now swarming into the fray, their wings scratching along the walls as they climbed in through the gaps from all angles. Knowing she couldn’t win this one alone, Buffy obeyed the first rule of slaying and didn’t die, instead charged for the stairs and ran. She hadn’t got far when she realised that none of them were giving chase. Settling behind an earthmover, she decided to wait for Spike and Giles.

*******************

‘Do some more magic,’ encouraged Spike. ‘Put the whammy on ‘em.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to begin and even if it were possible that level of proficiency is beyond my reach.’

‘Useless bloody Watcher,’ Spike grumbled more out of habit than anything else, there was no venom in his tone.

He was sat in a corner at the back of the store, trying to gain a sense of security from having a wall to his back and side. Giles was stood behind the serving counter, mindlessly rolling a screw around its surface with a finger as he tried to work out a way of leaving and getting to Buffy that wouldn’t result in his death.

‘Why won’t they get it over with?’

In reply Giles seized the piece of piping he’d rested on the counter and threw it off to his right. As one The Khatojanan’s heads snapped round to locate the source of the noise, then after a few seconds they faced forward again.

‘I didn’t mean you had to prompt them.’

‘Stand up, Spike,’ ordered Giles. ‘Trust me.’

Spike jumped to his feet. Again all heads turned at exactly the same time, tracking the movement until he was sat still once more.

‘They don’t have free will, most probably not even a sense of individuality.’

‘Does that mean we can get out there and twat them?’

Giles was amused at Spike’s turn of phrase.

‘It means that they are being controlled, tapping into a-a collective awareness. Destroy that, destroy them all.’

He went and retrieved the pipe.

‘That’s what you must tell Buffy.’

Spike guessed what the plan was.

‘Yeah, I can do that no worries.’

Distraction was the key. If Giles went one way, all The Khatojanan would follow, even a few seconds would hopefully be enough to give Spike time to break out in the opposite direction and run. It was a matter of survival, as long as they didn’t pierce his heart Spike was capable of absorbing multiple sword blows and still making it out of there. A feat no mortal could accomplish.

The increased movement in the store had agitated the demons outside it so they raised their swords.

Giles lit a cigarette, then tossed his lighter over to Spike who did the same.

‘Days of wine and roses, eh Rupes?’ said Spike reading the quote on the back of it. ‘Did you get lots of those?’

Appreciating that these were the last moments of his life, Giles answered truthfully.

‘Not nearly as many as I desired.’

‘There would have been more - with her,’ said Spike sincerely.

Knowing what it cost Spike to say such a thing Giles gave him a grateful smile and they shook hands, then took up positions on either side of the store. Giles stubbed out his cigarette, gave his glasses a final polish and slowly raised his left hand to his lips kissing the ring he’d worn for more than half a lifetime. Some may have prayed at this point, Giles had no faith and thought only of the love he’d so recently acquired and was about to leave behind.

‘Let’s go.’


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