Spike‘s stolen craft that he’s called home for months makes a sharp reverse turn as it follows it’s captain’s latest orders. Shouting his commands from the broken, shattered illusion of the Solarium glass, Spike peers after the winged Morgan, watching as she lands by the moai statues, preparing to do the unthinkable and open the Hellmouth on Easter Island. “No time for a textbook landing bugs! Get this bucket low and RIGHT NOW!”

Sebastian, watching Spike’s every move, asks his Master want he’s doing. Spike doesn’t look back at him as he places one foot across the shattered window fixture. “Trying to keep a mad demon from pulling the cork out of a bottle which shouldn’t be possible.”

Then, without further warning, before he can lose his considerable nerves, he forces himself over the threshold, into open air, as he lets gravity take a hold of his limp form.

He careens towards the ground, stars shooting past him at tremendous speed. As he stares open eyed at the quickly approaching ground, he shudders. “Maybe I’m the bloody lunatic,” he whispers to himself as the velocity pins his cheeks back.

He lands through a palm tree – through it, not in it – and lands with a thump on the hillside near the moai. His humiliation not complete, the vampire continues to tumble, backside over head, around and around until he lands at the bottom of a hill and collides with the back of the moai. “Son of a bitch!” he proclaims as he rubs his head, peering from beyond his vantage point towards the centre of the moai circle. He’s still angry with himself for allowing himself to be tricked by the succubus.

In the centre of the moai circle, Morgan stands, her hands outstretched above her head. Between them, floating, lit only by its own incandescent glow, is a shard from the Seed of Wonder, pulsating pink with power. She yells at the closest moai. “Okay boys, knock knock and let me in,” and as Spike watches her, his own thoughts paint a picture.

We shouldn’t be here. And yet he finds himself running towards the centre, somewhere he should want to get away from. Morgan is chanting in some ancient language now that Spike doesn’t recognise, but he bets it’s related to the moai. This is all his fault, he knows – he’s the one who brought her here, so stopping her is his responsibility. As he continues to head for her, the moai statue’s eyes are glowing red slowly, as if awakening from their centuries-old slumber.

“Here me Guardians. I have spoken the ancient passwords,” she commands, as amazingly, the massive statues start to rise out of the ground, pulling themselves free on moving stone, the sounds of grinding rock scraping as they tear through the surrounding earth. Just as Morgan finishes commanding the leader of the moai to open the Hellmouth, Spike moves to warn her of the consequences – but is flung easily out of the way by one of the giants, who doesn’t even look in his direction.

On the insectoid craft, Sebastian has rallied his guards and followers to the cockpit. “We must aid Master Spike,” he commands, but Frisky has, in his usual form, another question. “Sebastian, if the demon opens a Hellmouth, should we not get the ship to a safe distance? Alpha Centauri, perhaps?”

Sebastian shakes his head at his long-time friend. “No, Frisky. You were right all along. We should have acted sooner. And more decisively. But it is not too late to turn the tide.” Frisky nods and takes his place on the bridge. Seb turns, more quietly this time and whispers to Frisky: “Oh, and I’m sorry for throwing you in the brig,” he says, pain and regret on his features. Frisky brushes his apology off. “Never mind that. What are you going to do?” Seb looks at him. The same question again. Then his small insectoid head twitches and he looks straight at Frisky, an element of excitement in his voice, twinkle in his big, round eyes. “I am going to say something I’ve wanted to say for a long time,” he grins. Turning to Frisky at his side he tells him to sound general quarters and an alarm suddenly wails over the comms. “ACTIVATE BATTLE STATIONS!” Sebastian roars with anticipated pleasure!

On the ground, Spike thinks his time is up. He doesn’t feel very optimistic, surrounded by half a dozen moai giants, all lurching, lumbering towards him, eyes a glowing, fiery red. He’s in the centre with Morgan, and he yells at her that she doesn’t know what she’s doing – she could rip the entire world apart! She looks over at him, barely registers his arrival. She knows what happens when she opens the Hellmouth, and she doesn’t care. “I don’t care about this world, and I don’t care about you,” she screams, clearly feeling betrayed from his rejection of her advances.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be cut off from your home – to feel a thirst you can never quench! Already I can feel myself diminish. I won’t let it happen.” Her demands begin with a nasty feral twinge to her words, but, as she continues, she softens. Spike tells her that he cannot simply let her finish, but she isn’t asking his permission.

They’re squabbling is stopped by a looming shadow above them. It seems no one is safe from the moai giants, not even the summoner, as one pounds on to the ground. Spike leaps out of the way and looks back just in time to see Morgan do the same, the spot they just vacated now gone, squelched into dust. Spike looks at Morgan as they recover. “So you’re commanding them, are you?” he asks her mockingly. “Shut up,” she tells him. As they run from two of the moai, arms outstretched to snatch them both, Spike tells her that pass words let you pass, not command things. Morgan doesn’t chuckle this time, another pounding on the ground behind them making her move quicker. “Sue me. I thought it was worth a shot.”

In the night air, silently, the insectoid craft approaches, unseen behind one of the silent moai. “Bring us in tight,” Sebastian orders the bridge crew. “I want marksmanship, not wild blasting.” He takes the Captain’s chair. “ARM THE PULSE CANNONS!” he roars.

Outside the hull, two pulse cannons, activated by a button, whirl with mechanical grace into position on the undercarriage of the ship. Frisky reports the weapons as fully charged, which Seb finds excellent. “So help me,” he whispers to Frisky, “this will be our finest hour.”

The ship moves effortlessly, gliding like a bee, focussing on the moai statues pursuing Spike. They gain on the statues, and, as soon as they’re in position over them, Sebastian yells loudly, jumping from his seat, unable to contain his enthusiasm. “Shred the bastards,” he yells as the pulse cannons come online, firing energy blast after energy blast, taking out at least two of the slow stone creatures. As Morgan ducks behind cover, she asks Spike what happened and he replies, with a grin, that its a “Bug cavalry baby!”

As Spike and Morgan look on at the moai, now nothing but jagged rocks on the ground, they watch in astoundment as the rocks float back towards each other, rolling across the landscape where they fell, of their own accord. They meet in the centre, thousands of little pieces, all congregating together, slipping into each other, almost melting into one. Spike looks on and snaps at Morgan. “You had to try and open a Hellmouth.” This time, Morgan sheepishly says sorry, realising the new scope of their problem.

On the ship, Sebastian asks what the creature is. Frisky replies that it’s an amalgam of the small moai, but Seb looks back at him, his head tilting curiously. “I know that! It was a rhetorical exclamation of my panicked displeasure. We need to pull up!” Seb’s order comes slightly too late however, as the now combined moai giant slams the side of the craft with his fist, sending it spiralling out of control.

On the ground, Spike, concerned for his crew, watches in horror. The giant turns to face him, as if he’s of some importance, and seems to single the vampire out. As Spike runs in the opposite direction through the foliage around them, he curses. “She’s the one who tried to open your bloody dimensional bus stop!” he yells at the creature, to no avail. It keeps on pursuing him, no matter how deep the vegetation.

As Spike narrowly avoids a blow, he throws himself to the ground and rolls. He looks up and one word passes his lips: “Bugger.” Above him the large, massive stone foot of the giant is coming down upon him, eager to make him less than three-dimensional.

In the ship, Frisky yells at Seb that due to the damage they’re losing power and the engine core will superheat at any moment. “There is no time to lose. You must abandon ship immediately,” Seb orders him, as flames spark from the consoles, threatening to consume the cockpit. Seb has a plan – he plans to jettison the escape pods as soon as his people are aboard and he will remain behind to keep the ship stable enough to execute their safe departure. Frisky is horrified, knowing that Sebastian will not survive collision, but Seb tells him that he is not important – as long as Frisky and the others survive.

Frisky, shielding himself from the flames, yells at Sebastian that this course of action would not be what Spike would want. Seb chuckles back, the heat getting closer. “Who knows what anyone wants in these trying times. But it’s as you once told me: it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Except you will have to ask forgiveness on my behalf. NOW GO!” he shouts.

As Frisky tearfully looks back at his friend, he murmurs his best wishes in the hope they meet again and leaves. Sebastian remains on the Captain’s chair, flames all around him now. He activates a device on the side of the chair and begins to speak. “Computer, begin black box recording.” If a chime beeps to show the device is active, Sebastian doesn’t hear it over the crackle of the flames. “I am the one dubbed by the Master as Sebastian, leader of this expedition and this is my final entry.”

Outside, Spike is saved from pancake time by Morgan, now in her full demonic form, who swings around and grabs him in her talons, streaking towards the open sky with him safely in her arms. He begs her to go higher, as the giant moai reaches out with his stone fist to grab his legs. Morgan is struggling to stay aloft, not used to carrying anyone’s weight other than her own. As Spike wonders how they’re going to get out of this, he sees the ship in the distance, escape pods falling from it, parachuting to the ground safely as the ship careens out of control in a spiralling descent. “What the bloody hell is that bug ship… oh no.” At the last moment, he realises what’s coming.

“It has been an honour to lead my crew and to serve Master Spike,” Sebastian says, preparing to conclude his entry. “Goodbye,” he says, deliberately swerving the falling craft straight into the moai giant. The impact shatters the giant and the resulting explosion of the engine core blows the rest of it to gravel.

A short time afterward, a sad Frisky tells Spike that, despite a thorough search, there is no sign of Sebastian. Spike looks out over the ocean, pieces of moai all around him. “There was never much hope really.” Frisky concludes, mournfully.

Spike turns slowly, exhaling smoke. “Well, that’s it then. Seb did a good job. You all have.” Extending his hands, he shakes Frisky’s extended limb. “Look, if at times I seemed, I dunno, brusque with you crawlies, it wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate you. What I mean to say is…”

Spike cannot find the words, so Frisky finds them for him. “Master, Sebastian was loyal to you always. Even when others doubted. We will honour his memory. There are a few of us now and we have no ship. We’ve already discovered a cave away from the tourist areas and we will make a home.” He has been elected leader, although he knows he has much to learn. Spike asks him of the future and Frisky goes quiet, considering for a moment.

“We will hide in the jungle and begin construction of a new spaceship, out of bamboo and coconuts.”

Spike stares at him, mouth stunned silent.

“That was a joke,” Frisky states, a grin forming on his face. He raises his arm in a wave as he gathers his new people. “Farewell Spike. We will never forget you.”

A moment later, all is quiet. Morgan is still there, arms folded, leaning against a broken piece of moai wreckage. She says that this is one Hell of a mess, but Spike tells her it would have been worse had she actually managed to open the Hellmouth. Morgan grins, and, her face full of charm again, smiles. “Yeah, sorry about that. Frankly, if you’d been more open to our partnership, none of this would have been necessary, you know.” Spike points at her in anger. “Get real. There was never going to be an us.”

Her grin fades. “No. I guess not. But I did mean it Spike. We could have been this century’s power couple. When I found myself disconnected from my home, I wanted to reconnect to something else. To you.”

She looks him in the eyes, her gaze lingering. “But there’s no way to get to you without getting past her. I can’t compete with a memory,” she finishes, sadness in her eyes. Spike turns away from her, pulls out a cigarette. “Let’s not gloss over the fact that you jerked me around.” He won’t admit it to her, but he knows what she means, about wanting to connect. He used to have a spaceship and could literally go anywhere.

Anywhere but where I wanted to be most of all. And that’s how you end up drunk on the dark side of the moon.

Morgan admits that she messed up, but asks him if he’d consider trying afresh – a clean slate. Spike looks at her, smoke trailing from his mouth.

We’ve been through a lot. She deserves a proper answer.

“Sod off,” Spike tells her bluntly.

Morgan sighs. “No mixed message there.”

She transforms into her demon form, this time keeping her normal human-esque eyes. “So long, Spike. Maybe you’ll have cooled off by the next time we cross paths.” With a flirty smile, she launches herself into the night sky, leaving Spike alone, sitting on a moai rock, alone with nothing save the sound of the waves crashing against the island’s shore and his own meandering thoughts.

So, I’m smoking my last cigarette. I’ve got no bugs, no ship and no plan. And, most conspicuously, no girl.

Fact is, I might sort of even miss those bugs. But I won’t miss tooling around in space like some half-arsed astronaut. I wouldn’t say no to a familiar face. San Francisco? Sure. Why not? But not just yet. Warm up to it. You’ll get there. And you’ll get around to her.

So the world is your proverbial oyster, right? All you need is a bright idea, in the right direction. Maybe…

His thoughts are shaken by a sound he wasn’t expecting – a cell phone ringing. Having forgotten it was even in his pocket, Spike pulls it out and takes one look at the caller ID. He answers the phone.

“Hello wanker.”

On the other end, standing outside the former residence of Rupert Giles, is Angel. “Been trying to get ahold of you, Spike. You been on another planet or something?”

Spike grins and chuckles to himself. “Something like that.” He finishes smoking his final cigarette. “But I’m back now.”