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This is the first story I've ever posted. I hope you guys like it!
This fic starts around the beginning of season 5. Things won’t have happened exactly the same way in this universe since some characters won’t have been present in Sunnydale, but it’s safe to assume that major events like Buffy dying, etc., still happened, just a bit differently. The story veers off cannon pretty much immediately, and will continue AU.
The soul's vitality after death is proportionate to its vitality before death.
AUSTIN O'MALLEY, Keystones of Thought
Spike let out a frustrated sigh as he leaned back against the brick wall across the street from the building he was watching.
“Bloody hell… this was a soddin’ terrible idea.”
Closing his eyes for a moment, his hands started to pat down the various pockets of his leather duster, searching for the pack of cigarettes he knew were in there somewhere. He loved the duster, well worn black leather that hung from his compact form like a second skin. Dru had gotten it for him back in the 70s, said the pixies told her he would like it. He had rarely taken it off since.
Tapping a cigarette out of the box, he brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply as he flipped open his Zippo to light the end. This was the fifth one he’d smoked since he arrived, the nicotine having yet to calm his ragged nerves.
Taking a final drag of his smoke before he tossed it to the ground, he mumbled to himself, “Now or never, mate, now or never.”
Pushing himself off of the wall and out of the shadows of the night, Spike stalked towards the shop door he had been staring at for the better part of an hour. His long strides and cocky strut belying the ball of nervous dread twisting in his stomach.
He paused before the door to the Magic Box, feeling the Slayer and half a dozen or so others inside. He wanted to turn around and leave, get the hell away from the Slayer, this town, and the Hellmouth beneath it. He had a job to do however, and he wouldn’t fail.
With a final unneeded breath, he reached for the door and pushed it open.
***************
Buffy came from the training room in the back of the Magic box out into the main area of the shop, ripping tape from around her fingers and knuckles. Her boyfriend Riley was straggling behind her, breathing hard and dripping sweat. She was bone dry, breathing normally, and not even feeling warmed up from their sparring session. What she was feeling, was disappointment, though she tried to hide it behind a blinding smile.
“Hey guys, what’s the what?” Buffy made her way to the research table and sat down while Riley leaned against a wall trying not to look winded. It had been hard for her to train with him ever since the Initiative took that chip in his chest out. She could barely use any of her natural Slayer speed or strength on him, not that she had been able to use much more before, without hurting him. So, she held nearly everything back, trying to save the injuries to his body and the blow to his ego. There was no way he knew how easy she went on him, always insisting she go ‘all out’ with him and not realizing that if she did he was liable to end up very dead. It was definitely putting a strain on their relationship, a strain she wasn’t even sure he noticed.
“How was training Buffy?” Giles questioned her, lifting his eyes from the book he was reading to look at her over his glasses.
“Uh… good, really… good,” Buffy couldn’t help but cast her eyes towards her right where Riley was leaning. Giles caught the quick shift of her gaze, knowing exactly what it meant.
Deciding it was best to avoid talking about, or even thinking about the Riley situation, she looked around to room at the other people there. Xander had his head laid on his arms on the table, a comic book catching his drool. Oz and Willow were sitting up in the loft, Willow flipping through a magic book with Oz running his fingers through her hair while smiling indulgently at his redheaded girl. And Anya was behind the counter finishing up her daily ritual by counting the money.
Before Buffy could turn back to Giles she felt icy tingles run down her spine, causing her to tense just moments before the tell tale ringing bell announced someone’s entrance to the shop. The screech of chair legs as Buffy jumped up and fell into a defensive pose alerted the others of a possible problem. Each of them tensed and reached for whatever weapons were handy.
Buffy’s eyes met those of the man who had entered the shop, and time seemed to slow down as they sized each other up in a way only a predator could. Before Buffy had time to move he slipped into game face and brought his wrist to his mouth. He bit down and then held his bleeding hand out in front of him. As his blood dripped onto the ground, he shifted back into his human guise and spoke.
“I, William the Bloody, pledge Indutiae. The Slayer and hers, from me and mine.”
With that, he licked his bloody wrist and stood quietly looking directly at Buffy. The strange behavior of the gorgeous, yes Buffy had had enough time to notice he was gorgeous, was enough to prevent Buffy from immediately launching an attack. She glanced at Giles, to see his face an almost comical study of confusion. She had no idea what was going on.
A gasp from Anya behind the counter drew her attention. She looked over at Xander’s girlfriend in time to see a look of awe on her face, but not in time to stop Anya from coming out from behind the counter and moving directly for the vampire.
“Hi. Welcome to the Magic Box. I’m Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, human. Formally Anyanka, Vengeance Demon.” Anya cheerily welcomed the vampire while reaching her hand out towards him.
Taking Anya’s hand with his own, “Hello pet. I’m Spike, William the Bloody,” awful poet he didn’t say, but couldn’t help adding in his head, “William Pratt, vampire. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Spike smiled warmly at the former Vengeance Demon.
The friendly introductions were enough to break the shock that seemed to have settled over the others in the small magic shop.
“ANYA!” Xander shouted at his girlfriend. “What are you doing? Get away from him!”
“Why?” Anya asked turning to look at Xander in confusion.
“Anya, you do realize he’s a vampire don’t you?” Buffy asked.
“Of course I do,” she said tossing the Slayer a ‘duh’ look. “I was a Vengeance Demon for 1120 years, I can identify a vampire.” She said as she turned back to Spike. “But he pledged a peace truce so I’m perfectly safe. Plus, he’s very attractive.”
“ANYA!” Xander shouted again, this time his voice coated with embarrassment. “We don’t welcome evil bloodsuckers to the shop and tell them they’re pretty! We make them go poof!” Turning to look at the Slayer with wide, angry eyes, “Buffy?!?! Why isn’t he vacuum food yet?”
“Um… I don’t… GILES?!?!” Buffy’s voice rose to a screech as she turned to her Watcher for answers. She was confused, and she really didn’t like it. There was a vampire, in the Magic Box… but Anya didn’t seem worried at all. Of course, Anya used to be a demon so… she had no idea what to do.
Unfortunately for Buffy, Giles didn’t seem to have any more idea what was going on than she did. “I, I’m not sure Buffy.” Giles answered, his gaze shifting between Anya and the very blonde demon. “Anya? What do you mean he pledged a truce? And why do you feel that means he will not attack you?”
Anya huffed and rolled her eyes as she turned to look at Giles with her hands on her hips. “Sometimes I have no idea how you people have managed to stay alive as long as you have.” She continued speaking, ignoring the quiet chuckle from the vampire behind her. “He called a pax.” She answered the Scoobies matter of factly. Seeing no sign of comprehension among them she continued, “It’s a blood ritual, where the one making the oath drops three drops of blood and pledges that the one or ones they are making a pledge to, are safe from harm. It means that Spike, and any that he shares a familial claim with won’t attack or harm the Slayer or any of her family. As Buffy doesn’t share a blood claim with any of us, in this case means any persons she has a mental familial link with. It’s very powerful magic.”
“Who cares?” Xander yelled out before either Buffy or Giles could comment on Anya’s revelation. “He’s a vamp. Buffy slays vamps. Right, Giles?”
The only response to Xander’s ranting was the clicking sound of a crossbow firing and the whoosh of an arrow as it flew through the air. Right into Spike’s chest.
“Bloody hell, that hurts!” Spike glared down at the wooden arrow protruding from his black tee shirt, blood beginning to seep into the fabric. “Do you have any bandages lying around pet?” He asked Anya as he pulled the arrow out with a grimace of pain. “Don’t want to risk bloodying up this lovely shop of yours.”
Anya nodded to Spike and made her way to the small office, unnoticed by any but Xander and the vampire. Buffy, Giles, Willow, and Oz were too busy wondering how Spike managed to not turn to dust, then staring at Riley and the crossbow in his hands.
“Riley.” Buffy ground out between clenched teeth. “Why did you do that?”
“Why did I do what? Shoot him? He’s a vampire. I shot him with an arrow… which didn’t dust him for some reason.”
“Yeah, he’s a vampire. I’m the Vampire Slayer. Which means it’s my job to stick him with the pointy wooden objects, not yours.” With that said, Buffy turned her back on Riley, effectively dismissing any response he may have had.
“Giles, how come he didn’t dust?”
“I am in the room you know.” Spike muttered as Anya handed the bandages to him. He pulled his shirt off to wipe up the blood and stick a square of gauze over the already healed wound, the sight of his muscular abs and chest causing gasps to escape more than one of the females in the room. Spike let a small smirk play across his face as he looked back up to the group, pulling his blood stained shirt back on.
“Okay Spike, why the hell didn’t you dust?” Buffy glared at him, fire and fury evident in her eyes, as well as a bit of fear. It had been a long time since she had been afraid of a vampire, but then again, she had never run across one that didn’t dust when staked.
“Yes, that was even better than Dracula. Very impressive,” said Anya, clearly awed with the bleached blonde vampire.
“Oy! I’m nothing like that ponce! You take that back demon-girl.” Spike growled at Anya, though the smirk on his face softened the effect. “Nothin’ but gypsy tricks with that git. Me, I’ve got my own tricks, lot’s of them.” Spike leered at Anya, throwing her a quick wink before he turned to glare right back at the Slayer. “Tricks I won’ be telling you lot.”
“Perhaps,” Giles said slowly, trying to deter Buffy’s ire and Xander’s indignant huffing, “if you will not enlighten us as to your… secrets… you wouldn’t mind telling us why exactly you are here?”
“I need your help, and you need mine, whether you know it or not.” Spike said with an air of complete seriousness, all cocky teasing gone from his presence.
“Why the hell would we need your help?” Buffy asked, letting her tone convey how doubtful she was of that statement.
“Apocalypse,” Spike said simply, stormy blue eyes clashing with cold emerald ones. “There’s something coming. Something bad, and you won’t be able to fight it on your own… neither will I.” Spike added quietly, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” Giles began, removing his glasses to polish them with a handkerchief. “You have come here and given a blood oath of pax to the Slayer, in order to ask us for help in saving the world?”
“Uh, yeah,” Spike answered.
“I see. May I ask what this supposed apocalypse entails?”
“Look, may have been bloody stupid enough to come here seeking the Slayer of all people for help, but I will not soddin’ talk about this here. Not where any human or demon off the street could be listening or walk right in!” Spike exclaimed, his nervousness finally breaking through in a show of temper. “If you lot want to hear all ‘bout it come by my house, my heavily protected house, tomorrow at noon.” Spike said more calmly, pulling a card with his address out of his pocket and handing it to Anya.
“Know I’m a vampire, so you prolly won’t trust me, yeah? But this is important, and that’s sort of the Slayer’s job description. Bring any weapons you want or let your witch Red there place a barrier around you or some such rot. I don’t care.” Spike said turning to walk to the door.
Pausing with his hand on the door to the shop, Spike looked back at the Slayer and her friends before he left. “I hope you soddin’ white hats get off your bloody asses and show tomorrow, but if you don’t, guess I’ll see ya when the shit hits the fan.” With a small smirk, Spike was gone.
