“I don’t want her anywhere near me,” Spike snapped, nodding his head in the direction of Willow.
Willow recoiled away from Spike, as if he had smacked her across the face. Buffy nearly scoffed. Why should Willow be offended by what he said? He was just a stupid vampire, after all.
“Knock it off, Spike,” Buffy ordered, giving him the best glare she could muster.
“What? And I s’pose you wanna snog me senseless for the next few hours then?” he retorted, narrowing his eyes angrily at her. “Though, I s’pose you might. Out of the both of us, you got the better end of the deal.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips. Despite the fact she’d just rolled her eyes at Willow getting offended, she found herself doing the same.
He shrugged, an awkward-looking movement seeing as he was tied up to a chair. “Just sayin’ you didn’t have to spend hours snogging a hag.”
“I am not a hag! And we’re not even supposed to be talking about this!”
“Well, well, well, someone’s a little testy, huh? What, you expect me to like havin’ your lips all over me? Disgusting.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly the highlight of my life either, Spike.”
“Could we please continue without interruptions?” Giles said in annoyance. Buffy closed her mouth quickly and Spike just snarled. “Spike, we are doing the spell, whether you like it or not, and seeing as Willow is far more adept at spell-casting than either of us here--”
“I don’t know, Giles, maybe he’s right,” Willow mumbled, pouting a little bit. “I have been kinda off lately. I mean, after the fiasco that was yesterday, maybe I shouldn’t be throwin’ herbs at anyone.”
“Maybe no one should be throwin’ herbs at me at all.”
Thankfully, everybody ignored Spike. “Willow, your spell worked perfectly, did it not? You will was being done, far better than most who attempt the spell.” Giles plucked the book off of the counter and flipped to a page, peering at the words through his glasses. “As such, I . . . I would do the spell myself, but . . .” he trailed off and glanced at Buffy, who quickly glanced away.
After what had happened with the my-will-be-done spell, nobody could deny the fact that Willow was in serious pain. It wasn’t something Buffy was proud of, but she hadn’t been a very good best friend lately. Although Willow had constantly been there for her the entirety of Buffy’s relationship with Angel, soulless or not, Buffy had been finding excuses not to deal with Willow’s problem. They had all been ignoring Willow’s pain, and after Giles and her had had a discussion, they had figured it best to allow Willow to do magick--if only to prove they trusted her. It had nothing to do with Giles being incapable, and everything to do with them apologizing to Willow without actually having to apologize.
“But Truth Spells are incredibly fickle, and seeing as your power is natural whereas mine comes from my, er, unsavoury past, we thought it best to have someone pure of heart do it.”
“You? Unsavoury past? What, did ya spit in someone’s tea as a young lad? God, that is just positively appalling,” Spike taunted, feigning disgust.
Willow whimpered, her green eyes widening in fear. “Fickle? I don’t know Giles--fickle and me are like, you know . . . fickle. I mean, fickle-y Truth Spell? It could cut out his tongue or--or something.”
“Cut out his tongue? Well, then let’s get this thing started, shall we?” Buffy aired, smacking her hands together and rubbing them.
Spike stared at Willow warily, his blue eyes more prominent against his paler-than-normal skin and dark shadows under his eyes, caused by lack of food. “Cut out my tongue, Red, and I’ll personally rip out yours.”
“Ooh, scary. Big idle threat from the neutered vampire,” Buffy teased, smirking at him when he turned his glare to her.
“I don’t see why we have to be doing this,” he grumbled, lips curling into a sneer.
“We have to make sure you are . . . truly incapacitated. Willow? Do you have the herbs ready?”
“Big yep on the herb department,” she said nervously. “But . . . what if I mess up? What if . . . what if it doesn’t even work? I mean, what if, instead of makin’ him all truth-y, he comes out just . . . seasoned?”
Buffy went over and held her friend’s shoulder firmly, squeezing it gently. When Willow’s green eyes met hers, she smiled. “I trust you, Will.” That was what letting her do the spell was all about, of course. Showing that they trusted her.
Willow reached up and patted Buffy’s hand before squeezing it briefly.
“You two gonna snog now or what? Wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
Buffy scoffed and stepped away from Willow. “Do the spell, Willow. Really concentrate on cutting out his tongue. ‘Cause, speechless Spike? Startin’ to think that’s better than a truthful one.”
Buffy leaned against the back of the couch and watched as Willow started walking around Spike slowly, tossing herbs on the moody vampire, whose intense, blue eyes focused on her warily, as if afraid she was going to make him burst into flames at any moment. His red shirt hung loosely over his body, the black t-shirt he wore under that looser than she had ever seen it.
She remembered sitting in his lap and pressing her hands against him, and feeling how thin he was underneath her touch. She remembered being so worried about him when they were engaged. She shuddered. She couldn’t believe that just one day ago she’d had her tongue down his throat.
Giles handed the book to Willow, who said each word of the spell carefully while she continued to toss herbs on him. Buffy and Spike’s eyes met, and she scowled at him, just as he scowled at her. Thoughts of his cool tongue pressed into her mouth while she moaned and arched against him filled her head, and she felt her stomach churn with disgust. The sickening thing was that he wasn’t even that bad of a kisser, and it disturbed her how . . . easy he had been to get along with. He’d offered to help Giles. He’d been happy. She’d been happy. It was so . . . wrong. The fact that his hands had been on her and she had liked it, had allowed it, made her shudder. It was so degrading.
The sound of the book snapping shut brought her out of her thoughts and she shook her head, looking away from Spike. “Okay. That should do it.” Willow frowned a little bit and her brows knitted together with worry. “Tongue still there?”
Spike sighed, rolled his eyes, and stuck out his tongue. Seeing it reminded her of having it slither into her mouth. She shuddered.
“Oh, well, at least there were no accidental, um, lacerations.”
“Bloody right you are.” He shifted in his seat, top lip curling slightly. “So, what then? The spell workin’ or not? Let’s get all this over with.”
“Well, it’s quite simple really. If you can lie, then obviously it didn’t work. Take note, we have no idea how it affects vampires differently, or if it will work at all.”
“Don’t see why not. Red’s other spell worked on me just fine,” he grumbled, eye flitting towards Buffy’s with malice etched deeply in them.
She returned the glare.
Giles sighed. “Spike, as I’m sure you’re aware, some spells affect different . . . er, creatures differently. It just so happens that a will it so spell is one of the spells that actually work. Now, I’m going to ask you a question.”
“Ask him something really embarrassing,” Willow piped up, eyes bright. When Spike shot her a look of betrayal, she faltered. “Well, I mean . . . something that he would never tell the truth about without, you know, magical assistance.”
Buffy smirked. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Oi, you are one step away, Slayer,” he growled.
“Puh-lease.”
“Would you two just--” Giles cut himself off, then let out a lengthy sigh. Off Buffy affronted look, he whipped off his glasses and polished them quickly before returning them to his face. “What is your name?” he asked Spike instead.
“We already know his name, Giles. Ask something else.”
Giles turned to Buffy, sighing. She hated it when he looked at her like that--like she was some stupid girl who didn’t know her right from her left. She knew that Giles was really smart, but that didn’t mean he had to look at her like she was incapable of understanding speech. “I already know the answer to that--therefore, I’ll know if he’s lying.”
“Oh,” Buffy realized, understanding right away. If they didn’t know the truth, how would they know if it was working?
“I ask again--what’s your name?”
Spike smirked at Giles. “Father Christmas.”
Buffy sighed, a little disappointed. She would have had fun with the spell, had it worked on him.
Giles shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose Truth Spells don’t work on vampires. Very well. Buffy? Would you be so kind as to relocate him to the bath?”
“Hey! Don’t see the problem with me bein’ out here! Why d’ya always gotta shackle me up in the tub? Why d’ya even have the chain me up at all? I’m not gonna do anything!”
“God, is it possible for you to shut up for a second or two?” Buffy snapped as she walked behind the chair and started untying the robes that they’d wrapped around his torso.
“Is it possible for you to stop bein’ a self-righteous bitch?” he replied.
The ropes fell to the ground and she grabbed his wrist, yanking him up off of the chair. He pulled out of her grasp violently and looked down on her with his nose crinkled in disgust, as if she smelled unpleasant. She grabbed his arm, tighter than she had last time. He yanked her arm out again.
She punched him in the face, then practically manhandled him towards the bathroom, ignoring his protests, and fighting to gain hand control. She had to shove him into the tub and he struggled to prevent her from clasping the manacles around his wrists. When she pulled away he lunged forward, as if to strangle her, but the chain refused stopped him from going very far. He strained against the metal, growling at her. Buffy calmly kneeled just out of reach so she could watch his jaw clench angrily and his fingers stretch out.
Finally he resigned, then leaned back against the porcelain. She smirked at him, then bent over the edge of the tub and clasped the shackles around his ankles too.
“Fine. Didn’t much feel like bein’ in the chair anyway,” he sulked.
Buffy just shook her head, completely exasperated. Spike was such a pain. So almost wished the chip would malfunction so she would have an excuse to stake him. Despite how much she hated him, she could never kill something completely harmless. It just didn’t feel right--almost like it would lower her to his level.
She stood up and started to leave the bathroom.
Bitch.
Her hand hesitated on the doorknob. Why did he do that? Why did he goad her so much? Did he like her insulting him? She turned back to glare at him. He returned the glare with full force, the dark circles under his eyes making him look sickly. “I just don’t have the time for this,” she muttered, mainly to herself, and left the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her.
Buffy was sitting cross-legged on her bed, frowning at Willow, who was lying on her stomach, ankles crossed in midair. She was petting Amy, who was quietly nibbling on a piece of celery. “Will? You okay? You’ve been much with the pouting ever since we left Giles’s.”
“I couldn’t even do the spell properly. I’m so off. You shoulda just let Giles do it.”
“What? You heard Giles. Vampire spell defence, blah, blah.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Her friend’s pout deepened. “I don’t know, Buffy. I just . . . I just don’t think I’m up to it anymore. I mean, I screwed up so badly with the will it so spell. Maybe I should just lay off any sort of intonation altogether. I mean, this one didn’t even fizzle. There was nothing to fizzle. Spike just came out of it smelling like my grandma’s kitchen.”
“Aw, come on. You know you’re the best when it comes to spelling. Of all kinds.” Willow managed to smile briefly at that, and Buffy sighed. “Your will it so spell worked. That was the problem, in case you forgot.”
Willow’s head perked up. “Hey, you’re right! It did! I can do magic! That spell was a total success!”
“Could you sound a little less enthused about it? Kinda in the presence of one of the victims.” Buffy shuddered for theatrical effect.
“Oh. Right. Sorry. But you gotta admit, it coulda been worse. At least Spike’s good-looking.”
She nodded, agreeing with her red-headed friend. Spike was rather handsome; she couldn’t deny that. No, wait, she could--she totally could. She shook her head, shoving thoughts of how thin and well-muscled he had felt underneath his black t-shirt. “Well, I mean, in an objective way, maybe,” Buffy rushed to say.
Willow shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s not really all that bad.”
“Huh? Willow, I’m going to blame this craziness on not enough sleep. He is entirely bad. He is very much of the bad. He’s like the mayor of Badville.”
Amy squeaked as Willow’s long finger ran down her back. “Well, I mean, he’s not like other vampires. He’s kind of a softie. Totally and completely scary and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him--and I don’t even think I could throw him--but I just meant . . . you know, in comparison to other baddies, he’s kinda . . . well, different. I mean, kissing him? Not nearly as bad as, say, kissing . . . Mayor Wilkins. Or the Master.”
Buffy had to agree there. Well, at least in her head. She wouldn’t admit to that out loud. “And on that note, I think I’m gonna have nightmares. Well . . . after I get patrolling over with. You wanna come? I’ll let you punch a vampire if you want. You know, get all your inner turmoil out. Really helps.”
“Nah. Pretty much good here.”
“I can stay, if you want.”
Willow shook her head. “Nah. I’m not gonna be in the grief-y selfish mood for awhile. Think I’m just gonna be in the sit-alone-on-my-bed-and-watch-my-life-crumble grief. ‘Cause selfish depression? Totally not where I wanna be anymore.”
Buffy sighed, then hopped off of her bed, going over to Willow. She put her hand on her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “You weren’t selfish. I was. You were in real, legitimate pain, and I just pooh-poohed it away.”
Willow smiled at Buffy, and for the first time in a long while, she got the feeling that it was a real smile.
The phone rang and with a sigh, Buffy went over to answer it. “Hello?”
“Buffy?”
“Giles?” Buffy felt slightly panicky. Giles didn’t really call all that often, not unless something bad was going to happen. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, no, everything is fine. It’s just that . . . er . . . Olivia just called, and considering the situation with Spike, I found it, ah . . . necessary to meet her at her hotel instead. I . . . I would appreciate it if you could come and watch him. I would leave him alone, but I . . . I’d feel much better knowing you were here, to keep an eye on him.”
Buffy winced. She really, really didn’t want to see Spike. At all. Ever. In fact, she was starting to wonder if it was even important to know about the commando guys. She toyed with the idea of telling Giles to just let Spike go and wander the streets, unable to hurt anybody, but she sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be over in a minute.”
“Thank you so much Buffy. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
She hung up the phone and moaned a little in displeasure.
“What’s up?”
“Giles. Olivia’s in town, and he wants me to watch Spike so he can go have his grown-up fun time. Which, eww.” She started over to the door, then stopped before she turned the doorknob. “You wanna come with?”
“Nah, think I’m gonna turn in.”
“You sure? You’re the one with the big major crush on Spike,” Buffy teased.
“What? I so do not! I was just saying that, out of all the demons you’ve fought and I could’ve accidentally paired you up with, he isn’t all that icky.”
“Try saying that with a mouthful of Spike.” Willow’s eyebrows shot to her forehead and Buffy felt her foot slam right into her mouth. “Wow. That so didn’t come out right.”