The Card Players- Part 13 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "The Gift," Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil. Therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person left from her past. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R. (Strong Language and Violence)

-Spoilers: I will mention everything that has happened through "The Gift".

-Distribution: The only people that have permission to post these series are those who already archive my fic and have asked me for permission. If you want to post it please ask me. I'll be happy to let you. I just want to know where my fic goes.

-Author's Note: I adore Feedback, so please let me know what you think of the story so far! bih80reviews@yahoo.com

-Special Thanks: Wendy for BETA reading this, Tracy for listening to me rant, and One Good Day group--may you be blessed with many chocolate covered naked Spikes! Thanks for all the reviews!

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Vicki: Some people say you're as dangerous as the Joker.

Batman: He's psychotic.

Vicky: Some people say the same about you.

Batman: What people?

Vicky: Well, face it. You're not exactly normal, are you?

Batman: This isn't exactly a normal world, is it?

Batman the Movie

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They hadn't spoken for the past few hours, and the past few hours turned into a day. In a few hours, the players will begin arriving, and the tension would hopefully unwind.

She was lying on her bed casually cursing the pages of a history book she had found in the living room. So many things had changed it was almost surreal.

She was in the middle of reading about the latest technological advancement, something about a flying car, when the knock on her door startled her.

She frowned. Spike had not made a move towards her since yesterday and that incident in his room.

She cursed herself. She should never have gone in there, should never have kissed him to begin with and now things were all awkward.

"It's open." she said, knowing he would be able to hear her.

"Not coming in Slayer. You're coming out."

She felt him walk away from the door. Damn that vampire, she thought.

Grumbling she stood from the bed and walked towards the closed door to see her oppressor.

He was sitting in the large living room with three large black suitcases next to him. Her stomach dropped to the floor.

Was he leaving? Was this it? A million thoughts raced through her head as she slowly made her way to him.

"Going somewhere?" she asked indifferently.

"Yeah," he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She looked on in horror. This time he was leaving her for sure, even though she didn't know why she cared. He was just a pain in the ass, a waste of perfectly vacuum compatible dust.

"So, bye," she stated coldly.

Spike’s face snapped up to look at her. She had her 'I don't care' face on. He sighed and stood up bringing one of the cases to her and shoving it at her.

"Here" he said and picked up the other two, heading towards the front entrance of the apartment.

She looked at his retreating back and back down at the suitcase he gave her, when it dawned on her that these were cargo cases.

"C'mon, Summers. Got a lot of set up to do before the players come."

She followed him smugly. This is just business, she kept telling herself.

They rode the elevator in silence, stopping on the sixth floor. The room that opened before them was breathtaking.

She was completely intimidated by her surroundings. It was a real life-size pentagon. The walls were covered with computers, files, tracers, phones, charts, battle plans, reference guides and weapons. Tons of weapons.

"What is this?" she asked in wonder as green, red, blue, and yellow lights blinked around her. What ever it was tracking, it was tracking good.

"This,...this is the game room." he said as he looked over the wonders himself. "Here the players gather, plan, train, and live for the time necessary. We have one on every Hellmouth, the one here being the largest and most well stocked."

"What is it tracking?" she asked setting the heavy suitcase on a center table. The table was covered with architecture maps that mapped out the city and its skeleton.

"This 'ere tracks the players themselves," he said gesturing towards the right side of the room. "These track our slayers and me,...and these track our main street badies, from megalomaniac demons to serial killers and rapist, you name it . You steal a candy bar, we know your dick size. You cheated on your taxes we know how often you fuck your wife. It's very simple. We are the government." he said setting the cases down on top of the table.

"You mean to tell me that the whole world is controlled by seven individuals,...humans?" she asked skeptically.

"Uhm...no." he took a seat. "It's controlled by a vampire, four humans, a Bogara demon, and an unidentified species."

Buffy crossed her arms in slayer style. "Unidentified Species?"

He took out another cigarette and lighted it. "Loret." he stated and Buffy winced at the name. "We don't know what she is."

"You don't know what she is?" she asked skeptically.

"Well she looks human. She’s just not...human." he blew out his smoke. "Her mother was a fairy, and her father was the son of a vampire slayer whose mother was a vampire."

Buffy stared at him for a couple of seconds trying to see whether he was pulling her leg or not. His statement remained calm and didn’t waver.

"OK, let me get this straight." she took a breath "Loret's mother was a fairy. Who had sex with a man who was the son of a slayer, and the slayer was the daughter of a vampire?"

He nodded, trying to hide his smirk.

She sighed. "Spike, vampires can't have offspring. Shouldn't you know this?"

He chuckled. "So they say."

"They? Who is they?"

"The watcher's journal, the bible they taught you girls from all those years ago. Poppycocks the lot of 'hem. I say if the powers want to do something you best believe that you’ll be nice and fertile when the full moon comes."

Buffy rubbed her index fingers on her temple. Information overload.

"It's no biggie, she’s good, she's strong, she's a bad ass, I hired her. End of story." he stubbed out his cigarette. "Now," he began "Let’s put everything between us aside and focus on the job that needs to be done." he said with a straight face.

Buffy felt a sour taste in her mouth. "Fine. All business, all the time."

He nodded. "Good, I am glad we understand each other." he stood up and walked to the right side of the room. "On to work."

The computers started beeping loudly and Buffy looked wildly around as the system seemed to break up.

"The hell?" she asked startled.

"Relax, pet." he said, staring into a screen with many frames indicating different TV cameras. "They're here."

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"World Pass, please?" the small bald man asked the elder man who carried only a wooden stick and a doctor’s bag.

The old man smiled at him and whispered three chants in Latin. The clerk went blank as his pupils dilated.

"Thank you, enjoy your stay with us in Columbia." the almost hypnotic bald man said as he waved the elder through.

Nodding in thanks he went on his way to his mission.

Name: Unknown

Nickname: Troll

Occupation: Wizard, Card Player

Special Assets: Unlimited knowledge of magic, control of the natural forces.

Appearance: 5'2. White hair, looks Caucasian.

Classification: Bongara Demon

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She almost waltzed into the airport, clutching her Prada bag on her shoulder and flipping her long braided hair.

She knew he was coming behind her and she was prepared to face him.

"Hey, miss!"

She kept walking.

"Miss, stop!!"

She stopped as she knew his arm was coming to grab her elbow.

He was startled as she turned the moment he was going to grab her elbow.

"Yes?" she asked amused. The guard looked at her up and down appreciatively. Her cinnamon skin was nice and bronzed and she wore tight jeans with a tiny top showing off her rippled stomach. She was tall, very tall. Chocolate brown eyes looked at him with a lot of knowledge and amusement.

"Miss,..your...your..."

"My World Pass?" she asked arching a perfectly shaped brow.

He exhaled and nodded quickly.

She smiled at him, showing off perfect white teeth behind the maroon lipstick. "Don't need one, darling."

He was startled, but before he could protest she held out a long finger and pressed it lightly over his mouth. "Because if you ask me for one, your boss will find out about the $6,000 you stole from the bolt yesterday."

She brought the finger down and smiled again. "Do we understand each other?"

The guard could only stare in disbelief as the color drained from his face. He composed himself and gulped.

"Carry on." he said in a tiny voice, as he waved her through.

She turned on her merry way leaving a stunned man behind.

Name: Savanna Michaels

Nickname: Zeta

Occupation: World's Best Psychic

Special Assets: Sees future events, some use of magic, contacts the dead, tarot reader, among other things. Bilingual, English and Creole. Speaks five different spirit languages.

Appearance: 6'0, From the Island of Haiti.

Classification: Human

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"Name's Rio, Mario Rio."

"World pass?" the woman asked looking at the well-sculpted man abover her glasses.

Like a military man, he dropped his army duffle bag and promptly produced his pass.

She took it from him and studied it carefully. The last lines struck on her.

"You're a player?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, ma'am." he stood rigidly.

"Well don't salute, buddy. I need to see your bags." she said handing him back his pass.

Mario hoisted his large duffle bag on top of the counter and opened it for the inspection.

The woman pulled out what looked like a grenade.

She eyed it with care and glared at the soldier. "Do you have a permit for this?"

"Yes ma'am." he replied looking straight ahead.

She waited and he just stared at her. She sighed. "Well aren't you going to show it to me?"

"Sorry ma'am you didn't ask." he said smirking.

Players. She cursed silently.

Name: Mario Alejandro Rio DelValle

Nickname: Vulture

Occupation: Ex-Navy Seal, Previous employment World CIA.

Assets: Extensive knowledge of all weaponry, skillful in the tactics of war, sniper.

Appearance: 5'9, Military build, Hispanic-American

Classification: Human

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The beeping sound startled her and she glared from behind her sunglasses at the tall man who approached her bags.

"Don't you dare touch it." she said icily.

He turned to look at her. Her straight black hair was pulled up in a pony tail and her windbreaker pants with her tight white tank top did not seem like a menace.

He smiled, looking at her red lips.

"It's just part of the procedure."

"The procedure is that you take your hands off my shit."

He looked at her with an angry statement seething from his pores.

"I can't let you through if that light beeps." he said pointing at the blue flashing light.

She walked past him and pulled out a tiny metal stick and a knife. She opened up the pole that held the blue flashing light, and played around with some of the cables until the light stopped flashing and the beeping stopped.

Placing her tools back in her pocket she grabbed her bags. "Now it's not beeping." she said over her shoulder.

Name: Lucy Tao

Nickname: None

Occupation: Bio-Engineer, Mechanical Engineer, Computer Analyst (Hacker), Trigonometrician, Investor, Accountant, Lawyer.

Assets: Most intelligent person on the planet.

Appearance: 5'5, Vietnamese

Classification: Human

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"Sir, you have rice and beans in your bag." the woman said to the young man.

He smiled showing his perfect white teeth. "Ah knows."

"Again, you have rice and beans in your bag." she looked back again at the collection of over ten bowls of food stuffed in the bag.

"Ma stuffed 'hem in there. Lawd knows, when ah' be able to eat some healthy food. Comin' to this Gawd forsaken' place, righ-ere' ah got ma nutrition." he continued smiling.

She looked at him for a couple of seconds and closed the bag. "So you're not going to terrorize the locals with the beans?"

He laughed heartily. "Yuh's just as funny as ah puppy!"

She rolled her eyes and scribbled something down in her notebook.

Name: Dalton McDullah

Nickname: The Artist

Occupation: Con-Artist, ex-Army Ranger

Assets: Street-wise, knows five different languages.

Appearance: 6'1, Strong Built

Classification: Human

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She exhaled the last remains of the smoke in her lungs, dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her five inch heel. Dressed from head to toe in black leather she grabbed her bag over her shoulder and started walking towards security.

The guards eyed her, drinking in her curves, her wild long red hair, and her perfectly set cherry-red mouth.

They gulped as they all hardened at her confident approach.

Stopping in front of them she dropped her bag and pulled another cigarette from her short coat pocket.

"Y-You,...you can't go through here miss, its a restricted area." The guard stood in front of her.

One woman, ten guards. The odds? Not bad, she thought.

"Restricted you say? To whom? Pansies like you?" she asked amused.

"You need a pass." another said.

"That's it?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "A pass? That's all I need?"

"Do you have one?" another said coming closer.

"Nooooo, but if you just tell me who I have to beat up to get one, then I am sure we'll all get along."

Five of them advanced towards the woman. She smiled. Time to play nasty.

Before they knew it she had pulled out a travel size club and moved at lightening speed. Bashing some in the head, breaking others legs, ribs cracking, and ripped throats. The other five looked at her with fear and exasperation.

"Who's next?" she sneered, still in fighting position.

There was a two second count until the leader reacted "Get her!!"

Within minutes all four were lying on the floor along with the previous five.

She spit out blood from her mouth and picked up her bag once again. She walked calmly to where the last one remained.

"Get away from me--I have a gun." he announced as he backed up against the fence.

Before he could pull the weapon out the red head moved at inhuman speed and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him two feet off the air.

"And you have my pass."

"What pass?" the man choked out.

"Have you ever wondered if your arm still twitches if I pull it off. Science says it's still alive for about three seconds afterwards," her eyes got huge, "Wanna find out?"

The man pulled out the key-pass, trembling in his hand. "Oh, this pass."

Name: Loretta Michiaou

Nickname: Loret

Occupation: Martial Arts Instructor for the IDS (International Defense System), Terrorism Analyst

Assets: Moves at lightening speed because of biological origin, knows seven languages, strength as a vampire, endurance of a slayer, part-time phone sex operator.

Appearance: 5'7, Red head, French origin.

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They all arrived at the same time and the government escort was waiting for them to drive them to headquarters.

As they went up the elevator Spike was waiting for them with his arms crossed and a very pissed off face and a intimidated looking girl to his side.

"Nice entrance," he said dryly.

They all entered the room and avoided his gaze. "Maybe next time we'll announce it, with neon lights and all. 'Card Players to arrive at Bogota.' Turn it into the bloody Enquirer. Next thing you know they'll be catching us naked, be on the six o'clock news."

Lucy sighed loudly and pushed past Mario and Zeta. "Don't flatter yourself, Spike. And stop with the dramatics, you sound like a damn drill sergeant."

"Yeah, man," Mario piped in but avoided Spike's hardening gaze.

Spike muttered under his breath about respect and discretion.

"So, who's the babe?" Mario asked eyeing Buffy up and down.

"Can you ever say anything without your dick getting in the way?" Loret asked as she sighed loudly.

"And you don't know how to say No in any of the ten languages you speak." Mario shot back at the red head.

Loret walked up to the man and glared down at him. "For your information, there is one man I would say no to, and that would be you. And I speak seven languages you mincer!"

"Really then, if you ever become a mommy, can I have one of the puppies?" he retorted.

"She's the slayer," Troll said above the banter of he younger two.

They all stopped what they were doing and stared at the blonde.

Buffy felt herself shrink away behind Spike, they were staring at her as if she was a guinea pig.

"OK, don't make 'er more upset!" Spike said glaring at his players.

"I am not upset!!" Buffy retorted to the vampire.

"Oh, I like her! It takes a real woman to talk back to you, Spike," Lucy smirked from her placed on one of the chairs.

"I don't talk back to him, does that make me less woman?" Zeta retorted to the other woman.

"Ah we gonna keep 'er?" Dalton asked looking over Buffy. "She as skinny as ah twig, ahs need to feed 'er."

"She's not housebroken, you idiot!" Mario glared at the other man.

"She looks broken to me." Loret replied walking over to Buffy and walking around her.

Buffy glared at the much taller woman.

"Alright!" Spike cried impatiently. "Fer christsakes, she's the slayer."

"Yes...." Zeta hissed and closed her eyes, breathing in the air. "The Slayer, she has an old soul." She opened her eyes again and smiled at Buffy. "Welcome back, Miss Summers."

The room went silent as they stared harder at Buffy.

"Time for 'the talk'," Mario said settling down and making himself more comfortable.

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"Well, and people say my lifestyle is weird. I suppose being brought back from the dead twice kinda tops mine," Mario leered at Buffy.

She rolled her eyes and looked away--he had not stopped hitting on her since he saw her.

He smirked. "I like them fiery."

Loret paced the room and finally jumped up on the table they were all sitting at, squatting before Buffy. Buffy crossed her arms around her chest and glared right back at the woman.

"How do we know she's not lying. That this isn’t some type of a scam to sneak into our operation?" she poked Buffy in the arm. "Is she even real?"

Buffy slapped her hand away and was surprised to find that she hurt herself in the process. Loret chuckled at her bravado.

"Ladies, please!" Troll said from his corner, "What has happened to the slayer is most intriguing and I would love to do more research about--this must be documented. So Loretta--lay off her."

"Sorry," she said putting an innocent face on. "Didn't mean to scare Spike's new toy."

Buffy and Spike immediate leapt up to their feet and before anything else happened Buffy had punched Loret clear across the room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Spike demanded as he walked over to the now standing up red head.

Loret spit out the blood from her mouth and calmly looked at her ex-boyfriend.

"Did I hit a nerve? I know who she is, Spike. We all do. I am just the only one with balls enough to say it." She glared at Buffy. "Nice punch, sweets."

"Anytime, Annie." Buffy retorted placing her hands on her hips.

"Stop it!" Spike grabbed Loret by her bare arm and pulled her towards the door.

"Get your hands off me!" She tried to push the vampire off but he held on tight.

"You and me ar' gonna have a talk," was the last that they heard Spike say as he shut the door behind them.

"Damn, I hates them talks," Dalton said as he brought out his lunch.

"Do you ever stop eating?" Troll asked as he looked at the large plate the man had in front of him.

"Ahs got to keep healthy."

Buffy ignored the food banter and stared after the door Spike and Loret had walked through. "What the hell is her problem?"

"Oh don't worry about it," Mario came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Buffy reacted by turning around and glaring at him. "Let me say this so we're both clear. I don't like you. Therefore, no matter how many times you ask me out I will say no."

She stared at him. He looked defeated. "Are we clear? Or do you want me to get physical?"

Mario shook his head, "Worth a try, though. My wife would kill me."

"You have a wife?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded sadly. "Yup, five unhappy years."

Buffy looked at him still in disbelief with a touch of disgust.

"He just stays around for the guaranteed fuck." Lucy chimed in as she typed away in her computer.

"We have a lovely group," Zeta commented to Buffy. All the slayer could do was nod.

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Spike slammed the red head against the back wall and growled at her. She lifted her chin defiantly and stared at him with icy blue eyes that matched his own.

"What the hell is your problem?" he hissed at her.

"Oh, I don't know. My body momentarily spasms every time you are near. It's like it's screaming out watch out he's an asshole. I felt so miserable without you, it was almost like having you here." She cocked her head and smirked.

Spike turned from her and began to pace. She watched him like she had watched him many times.

"This wasn't 'bout me, Loret, and you know it." he roared.

She didn't reply but just stared at him.

"So you're mad 'bout Tatiana, we all are. So I played you wrong, so most women are. So we get a new slayer, you've been through the installation of three--I would think that by now you would accept this change." He stopped and looked at her.

"But no, that's not it. Is it, pet?" Spike walked closer to her until their faces were inches apart. "You're jealous."

Loret looked at him amused. "Jealous?" she pushed him away and stared him down. "I've been jealous since the first time I met you, Spike. You could have any woman, anytime. Yes I was jealous, when you flirted with Lucy, I was jealous when you left me for that Opal bitch. But jealous of Buffy Summers? No. It's not jealousy. Jealousy I can cope with because I know you'll always come running back to me and slip under my covers and we'll have a great fuck. With Buffy....well she's the love of your life. For her you changed, for her you became a good doggie.

As long as she's alive, no matter what she does or how many times she fucks you over, you'll never come to me for a good shag. And I'll tell you why. You're desperate to get one inch of gratitude, one crumb of recognition, a sympathetic look, a god-damn smile that you would do everything in your power to make sure you don't fuck up.

Well...wear your doggie leash while you can. Because eventually she's gonna die." she came closer to his pained face. "And the moment she does, I'll be there...I'll slip in. Have my self...a real good day." she sneered.

Spike reached out and grabbed her by her throat pulling her face mere inches from his. His gaze was cold and unwavering. The pain radiating from him was palpable and she almost shrunk back at the hurt.

He swallowed painfully hard. "I can slam you against this wall and fuck you until you bleed. I can make you suffer, whimper in need, until your pussy oozes down your legs. But I'll never, ever, run to you. After Buffy all else is cardboard. But then again the title suits you fine."

They stared at each other for another moment becoming aware of each other’s body pressed against the other.

Without warning they lashed out for each other's mouth. Hungry and desperate, as if the last meal was days ago. He poured out all his frustration and she poured out all her anger. Falling painfully to the floor they continued.

Their clothed bodies slapped against each other as she arched her hips in heat.

Both too buried in the sexual pleasure of the moment that they didn't hear the door open beside them.

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All that Buffy could do was stare.

She felt numb. Like that moment when you're about to go sleep and your body does not respond. She felt nauseous.

"Oh God," was all she could say. Neither her legs nor her eyes obeyed her as she watched the couple on the floor, feeling and kissing each other in a game of dominance.

Spike felt a sharp presence hit him that broke into his hazy thoughts of passion.

He abruptly pulled away from the hungry red mouth and turned to see who the intruder was.

The floor was falling underneath him. He was weightless and free. The only way was to disconnect--that's all he could do as he watched a completely hurt and horrified Buffy staring at him.

Just him. Those large green eyes pleading him not to be true.

"Buffy?"

Loret turned her tousled head to look at the girl and a small smile appeared on her face. "Guess you have competition, darling." she sing-songed and she reached up and kissed Spike’s jawline.

Buffy let out a small sob and ran out of the room.

Spike could only stare at her leave. He didn't have the energy to run after her. He looked back down at the woman who so often had been his escape. She smiled at him and caressed his cheek. "You'll thank me one day for this, William."

Spike slapped her hand away and stood up. His erection had shrunk painfully fast and the last thing he wanted was to deal with anything in life. Life had been so simple for so long. Damn her for mucking it up!!

"Get out of 'ere." he whispered to Loret.

Loret stood up and fixed her shirt.

"Tell the players to set up. I'll be back after dinner."

Spike walked away slowly and mechanically, walked down to his bike and a ride of escape.

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