Trying being the standout word here. For some reason, at the end of every nights patrol, her feet would take her right in front of his crypt and right into his bed.
Avoid.
She definitely needed to start doing that. Avoidance was of the good. Sleeping with Spike was very, very bad. Oh wait, that was good too...
Stop. Where's a vampire when you need one?
So anyway, sex with one particular bleached wonder was her big mistake - number two. Or twenty, if she were actually counting how many times they had done the deed.
The first mistake however, was far worse. Yes, worse than the dirty, perverse acts she performed with the chipped, blood-sucking fiend.
Buffy had told her friends they pulled her out of heaven.
Okay, technically she sang it, but still, the damage was done. Now everyone was working extra hard to prove how wonderful living on top of a Hellmouth could be. It was exhausting. She hated the looks her friends would give her when they thought she wasn't paying attention. She couldn't stand it anymore.
She couldn't stand them.
The only person she could stand, ironically, was not even a person. He was a thing. A stupid, pain-in-the-ass, soulless vampire...
One who just happened to be lying on the ground, with his hands clutching his head, only a few feet in front of her.
'Well, so much for avoidance'
Buffy rolled her eyes as she ran toward him.
'Stupid Buffy, like you should care what happens to the neutered vampire that cheats at kitten poker'
She knelt beside him and slipped her hand into one of his. She gently pried it away from his head while her other hand went to work ruffling his hair, and checking for damage.
“Spike? What happened? Are you hurt?”
Spike looked up at her, trying to focus. The blurriness slowly forming into that of a Buffy shape.
“Elizabeth?”
Real concern started to wash over her. “Um, no Spike, it's Buffy. Did something attack you? I don't see any cuts, or bruises... can you see me alright?”
He slowly sat up, clutching his head again in the process. “Cor! Blimey! Something riddled my noggin' fierce. Did you see it?”
Did Spike just say riddled my noggin'?
“Huh? I don't understand, did I see what?”
“The heinous creature that snuck up upon me and wrenched my bloody brain to bits.”
Obviously he had a concussion.
“I repeat, huh?”
His hands were now pressed to his head so tightly, one would think the gray-matter tucked away inside would seep from his ears if he were to let go.
“Bloody buggering fuck! My beautiful Elizabeth, I fear I cannot stand on my own. May I be so bold as to ask for assistance?”
Somehow, after passing the Du Lac crypt, Buffy seemed to have ended up in the Twilight Zone. She looked around for a portal that might possibly still be open - nope, no portal.
Everything was how it should be.
Everything, that is, except the neurologically challenged Spike, now groaning in pain and muttering phrases ending in words like effulgent, blimey, and cor!
'Cor? Is that even a word?'.
Maybe he was possessed by some kind of multiple personality demon? Ooh, or maybe I'm being Punk'd! Hold on, Slayers are famous - but not that much.
Wait, focus Buffy.... You've been thinking far too long and Spike is now writhing in the grass screaming something about becoming gobsmacked!
She reached down and helped pick Spike off the ground, wrapping her arm around his shoulder to keep him steady.
“Spike, I don't know what exactly happened to you, or why you've gone all ghetto Belvedere on me, but I think we need to get some help. Can you make it to the Magic Box if I help you walk?”
He tried to pull his own weight the best he could as they took the first few steps. His strength was creeping back but his head felt like it'd been on the receiving end of a troll hammer.
“Yes. Oh, I do hope after a good kip I will be back to myself again. I feel so odd. Please do help me, my lovely Elizabeth.”
“Um, okay Spike. It's not that far.”
Spike threw his hand to his head, rubbing his forehead and temple. “Fuck, my head hurts!”
As Buffy helped Spike to the store, she wondered if there were such a thing as a Tourette's Demon.
Buffy kicked the door to the Magic Box, repeatedly. Spike had passed out and she couldn't open the door with both arms full of wacky unconscious vampire. Honestly, she was relieved when he went down for the count. After having listened to Spike talk as if he'd walked right out of a cheesy Harlequin romance novel, she was grateful for the reprieve.
Whatever it was that attacked him, seriously caused some brain damage.
He was only insane for the last half hour but she missed the old Spike already. A tiny spot, buried deep down inside of her, worried that he might not recover. God, she really must be depressed to think that a life without Spike....
“Hello! Business hours! Not like we keep the doors locked!” The door swung open and Anya stood before them, annoyance face on.
“Oh, thank God.” Buffy replied, as she pushed through the door passed Anya. “Please tell me Giles is here?”
“Yeah, he's in the back. What's wrong with Spike?” Anya followed Buffy to the table where she had just deposited said vampire.
“He passed out. Giles!” Buffy yelled not wanting to tell this story a second time.
Within a mere moment, Giles appeared from the back of the store, his look of concern evident. “Buffy! Is something wrong?”
She nodded toward the table full of crazy vampire and crossed her arms. “Spike was attacked in the cemetery. I don't know what happened exactly, but when I got there he was completely out of his mind. He passed out on the way here.”
Giles approached the table and looked over Spike's listless body. “What do you mean, out of his mind? Has the chip malfunctioned? Did he attack you?”
Buffy pulled out a chair and sat down. She didn't know quite how to explain the craziness without them seeing if for themselves.
“No, no, nothing like that. He kept holding his head, obviously in a lot of pain, but not like chip activating pain. I mean, he was all big with the crazy talk... calling me Elizabeth and talking like Mary Poppins one minute and Sid Vicious the next.”
Buffy sighed heavily as she looked over Spike. How else to describe it?
“It was disturbing.”
Upon further investigation of the still unconscious vampire, Giles determined there were no visible marks proving a physical attack. So, he had to rule out blunt head trauma.
“Buffy, you say he was speaking in multiple styles of slang? Did he make sense, or was it more of an incoherent rambling?”
Anya, who was staring at Spike very intently decided to chime in. “It could have been some kind of brain sucking demon. There are various types which could leave him in this state. Sort of like Glory, but not with all the God power behind it.”
Buffy leaned back in her chair, frustrated in trying to help them understand.
“No, he spoke in full sentences... it's just the way he said things. The words he used. Kind of like a multiple personality sort of thing. He knew what he was saying, but the words were so not Spike.”
She shuddered as the phrases repeated in her mind.
“Seriously, who uses words like cor! and blimey? He kept calling me Elizabeth for heaven's sake! I think he's possessed.”
Giles shrugged, showing little concern for Spike's lack of proper English. It wasn't like he used it to begin with. “Well, once he wakes up, I'm sure we will gain a better understanding of the affects this attack has had on him.”
Okay, now he thinks this is just one big joke.
“Giles, this is serious...” Buffy gestured toward Spike. “that vampire lying on the table – is. not. Spike.”
Anya was already making her way toward the counter.
“I'm calling Willow and Xander. I have a feeling there is going to be research involved and I'm not getting stuck with it.”
After an hour had passed, the entire Scoobie gang, in full research mode, hung around the table - waiting for something to research.
Willow and Tara were busy working on a spell. One they could use to trace any other spells which might have been performed on Spike. Although, neither of them could fathom anyone taking the time to work enough mojo to only make someone talk funny.
As Willow walked around the table, sprinkling the pink powder over Spike, Tara began to chant. Once the spell started to work its magic, a soft pale blue light began to emanate from his body.
Who would have thought? There really was a spell.
As Tara stopped chanting, the light faded.
“Wow, did you see that? Pretty!” Willow exclaimed as she grabbed a feather duster and started sweeping the pink powder off of Spike.
Beneath the feathers, his body began to stir. Upon the realization that he was lying on a slab of wood and something was tickling his nose, he bolted upright and leapt away from the feather wielding witch. Willow backed up in surprise and almost lost her balance.
“Spike! You're awake!” Willow fumbled to regain her footing and hide the duster in her hands.
“Yes, I'm bloody well awake! What'n earth was me doin' slippin on the soddin' table fur? I'll 'ave y'know, chip or no buggerin' chip, I'll kick yer arse into next week if ya eva' bloody well touch me 'gan.”
The whole group just stared at Spike, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. What the hell did he just say?
“Oh no, this is getting really bad!” Buffy looked over to Willow, “Please tell me you know what kind of spell caused this? Because honestly, if I have to hear him talk like that again - I may just have to stake him.”
“This is extraordinary! A spell that actually makes Spike sound like more of an idiot than he already is! Bloody brilliant!” Giles walked over toward Willow from his place at the counter, his eyes focused on Spike the entire time.
“Yes, Willow, I am quite curious what type of spell was used in this....” He couldn't hold it back any longer. The bubbling in his gut was reaching the surface. A fit of giggles bursting forth, “priceless instance.”
His eyes were welling up as he laughed, forcing him to remove his glasses and wipe the tears from his lashes.
“Oh sod off, Rupert! w'at 'ave you lot done t'me! Only a mere moment ago I was visiting the public library. Browsing through the aisles containing the works of Shakespeare, Poe, and the brilliant Dickens when I find myself here, in this shop of the occult, with Miss Willow dusting me as if I were part of the furnishings! Bollocks! I outta rip yer 'eds off and shove 'em down yer throats!”
The laughter was contagious as Xander joined in with the hysterics. “He sounds like a pirate sitting down to four o'clock tea. Oh, Spike... someone worked you over bad, my friend.”
The only ones in the room not finding this funny were Buffy, Willow and Tara. Tara had ignored the goings on and cracked open a book of witchcraft, trying to figure out how to counteract Spike's predicament. Willow was busy pulling several volumes off the shelves while Buffy stood apart from them all, a look of bewilderment on her face.
Trying to match up the words coming out of his mouth, with well, Spike - was a bit too perplexing.
It looks like him. It is him. It just REALLY isn't him.
Headache much?
Of course, that was when he passed out.
Again.
“Crap!” Buffy yelled as she ran over to Spike. She bent down to try and shake him awake but when her hands made contact with his skin she was forced to pull away.
“Oh my God, he's burning up. Guys, we need to figure this out now! He keeps getting worse.”
“Here Buffy, this might help.” Tara held out a pillow and a throw cover to her and Buffy took them gratefully. After placing the pillow under Spike's head she covered him. Anya retrieved a towel from the back of the store, and placed the cool, wet cloth on his forehead.
“Cokeney demon.”
All eyes turned to Willow, who was sitting at the table smiling brightly at her possible discovery. “Cokeney demon. A demon created through words.”
“Well, this is intriguing. I do not believe I am familiar with such a being.” Giles walked over to Willow, placing his glasses back onto his nose as he peered over her shoulder. Willow handed the book up to him, and he read the brief entry, translating it back to the rest of the group.
“It's an entity first chronicled in the early 1800's. Discovered in the East End of London to be exact. It's a knowledge seeker. An incorporeal being which feeds off the written word. It very rarely takes form. Mostly it passes through a book, absorbs the words, so to speak, and makes its way to another one. It's on a constant quest for knowledge. They are often found in...”
Giles looked up, realization dawning, “didn't Spike say he was at the library earlier?”
“Yeah, he was speaking about Dickens and browsing aisles. You said it passes through books, right? Then how could it enter Spike? Wait...” Anya paused as she sat down across from Willow. “It's a spell right? So it can't be a possession. This demon sounds like the right one but it doesn't make any sense.”
Spike groaned loudly from his spot on the floor, and all eyes focused on the problem at hand. Buffy was sitting at his side, gently wiping his cheeks and brow with the cloth, when he slowly started to regain consciousness.
“Buffy, how is he?” Tara asked as she knelt down, her hand resting on Buffy's shoulder.
“He's starting to wake up, I think. Hopefully, he can fill us in on a few more details. Something that will help us figure out what spell this Cock-eyed demon zapped him with.”
Xander giggled loudly from the peanut gallery. When Buffy shot him an annoyed glare, he quickly stopped and apologized. “Sorry, I just envisioned this evil, cross-eyed bookworm....” he trailed off as she turned away from him. “with Giles glasses...”.
Shrugging it off, he walked over to the counter and snatched up the phone to order a pizza. It looked like this was going to be a long night and extra cheese with pepperoni goodness was definitely in order.
“What, what is happening?” Spike reached for Buffy's hand as he spoke. “Oh, sweetest Elizabeth, I fear I am not well. I have all these horrid words, too many, jumbled inside my mind. It is so confusing. Please help me, love. I do not fair to take this much longer.” He pulled his hand away from Buffy's and reflexively grabbed his head, screaming in agony.
“Bollox! If these rancid words don't get outta my soddin' brain my skull's going to explode! Bloody hell!!!”
Sliding her hands over his, she gently moved them away and began rubbing tiny circles onto his temples with her fingers. His eyes opened again, and he flashed her the briefest of smiles.
This was her time to try to get some information. Hopefully, the pain would subside just long enough to let him answer a question or two.
“Spike, you mentioned being in the library earlier this evening, right?”
He closed his eyes, and nodded a slight yes.
“Good, what books did you look at? Do you remember?” She continued rubbing small circles as she spoke.
He nodded again, “I looked over a few of the classics then went on-line for a bit. The Internet... what a bloody waste of time that is. Nothing but stupid auction sites, horrible fiction and well, the porn isn't too bad really.”
Even when his eyes felt ready to pop out of his head, he couldn't help raising an eyebrow off her look.
“Porn aside, you said the classics, what classics?” She wondered what type of porn Spike enjoyed. She had a feeling chains would be involved somehow.
“Never opened the books Buffy, just walked through the aisles. Didn't really do much but play on the soddin' web....” He smiled a little wider, “thought I'd look for a few new, um, staking techniques we could practice later.”
She couldn't help but smile back. Dirty little insane vampire. Hey, wait a minute - normal talk!
“Spike, you're starting to sound normal! I think you're getting better!” She pulled the towel off his forehead and checked his temperature. He was still hot to the touch but slightly cooler than before.
“See that, pet... nothing can keep me down. Not even a...” He moaned loudly, his eyes rolling up as he clutched at his head in agony.
“Buffy, I don't think I'm getting better.”
His eyes slowly focused on her once more when the stabbing pain faded.
“I think I'm getting - Oh, no – not that, no...”
He couldn't fight it, it was just too strong.
“Bloody fuck! - Chip Chip Cheerio!”
His nose began to trickle blood as he sunk back into unconsciousness. Time was running out. She really hoped they got enough information from him to help find the cure.
“Guys? Do you have enough to work with? I think that last 'cheerio' was the end of the conversation.” She gently wiped his nose with the cloth and off her look Anya headed into the back to grab her a clean one.
Willow and Tara were already heading for the door.
“Buffy, we're going to the library. If this thing is really evil, maybe it figured out a way to insert itself into the web. Sort of like that one really bad episode we did a few years back, remember? It might explain how the demon made contact with Spike. We'll hurry, promise...” Willow trailed off as the door shut behind them.
TBC...