Three days of rushing from class to class, pampering Tara, and nights spent digging for the gem were taking their toll. Spike was exhausted. He was averaging an hour of sleep per twenty-four hour period, he kept missing meals, gulping down a cup of blood whenever he happened to think of it, and he hadn't seen 'Passions' in nearly a week.
But his furious pace paid off. Finally cracking through the last wall of rock and getting into the chamber even made up for two classes of sitting next to the Slayer and feeling her glares as if they were physical sensations.
It had taken quite a bit of testing with various crosses in the room to determine which piece of priceless jewelry was the legendary Gem of Amarra, he sported more burns then he'd care to count when he finally figured out it was the small innocuous looking green ring.
His step had a bounce in it he hadn't had for weeks as he gathered up as much of the side treasures that he could carry. These would fund as much school as Tara wanted and take them to Europe besides. In fact, these might have Tara quite comfortable into old age.
He practically skipped home. The only thoughts that bogged down his mind were the Slayer's hissed comments that morning.
It had been the second Psych 101 class and Buffy flounced in and deliberately sat beside him. She kept her trap shut until the bell and then leaned over and held his arm in an iron grip, “Listen, Spike. I know you may have fooled my mother and that weird little friend she keeps talking about, but you haven't fooled me. I don't believe you've stopped feeding for a second. And when I catch you, you'll be blowing in the wind and the world will be a better place.”
He didn't know why it hurt. Why should the Slayer believe him? He'd tried to kill her so many times in the past. But he'd worked so hard. He'd never worked harder at anything than he'd worked at being good for Tara.
It hurt not to be acknowledged. And it hurt that she hated him enough to think everyone would be better off without him.
Even in the height of his glory days of trying to do her in, Spike had never thought the world would be better for her death. That wasn't the point. Spike respected her even then and it hurt not to be respected back.
But he pushed her out of his mind. The Slayer was not his problem. He wasn't feeding, she was wrong. And he had a sick girl at home to take care of and he had to buy popsicles on the way.
She liked the root beer ones and they only sold those at the small Asian market on main.
* * *
“So, what evil things has Spike been doing?” Willow asked, putting her books down carefully on the desk. Willow wasn't one to toss books on the bed. They were sacred objects.
“Well, he's been taking a lot of notes. And I mean A LOT of notes. I don't know how he writes so fast. Must be something they teach you in Evil School.” Buffy picked at a cuticle and shifted Mr. Gordo over so she could sit on her bed.
“Yeah, I hear Shorthand was one of Stalin's best subjects. So, he's just all about the notes. That doesn't sound so bad. And you didn't see him eat anyone. Bonus him!” Willow smiled over at her friend but it weakened at Buffy's resentful face.
“Pssh, yeah, like he's going to be snacking on co-eds right in front of me. I can't figure out what he's doing with the notes. It HAS to be something dastardly.”
Willow hemmed a bit. She had had to fight the urge to go over to Spike today and complement his new hair. He seemed tame enough. He hadn't caused a scene, which was really more than you could say about Buffy at this point.
“Yeah, we'll figure it out.” Willow offered.
“Yeah, anyway, enough about Spike. Parker asked me out for coffee!” Buffy's voice lifted a bit, but to Willow it sounded strained, like Buffy was trying very hard to be excited.
“Yay, you! See, normalcy is just around the corner!” Willow was also trying very hard to be excited, but Oz was spending time with that Veruca girl and as understanding as she tried to be, she just kept falling short.
* * *
Tara was very pleased with the ring, she tried it one and could feel the magical essence and it was surprisingly clean for something intended for vampires. She sat in bed, propped up by pillows and ate popsicles as they made plans to find a demon doctor to perform the implant surgery. Spike knew a few people he could visit that very night and he was quite confident they would be discrete.
She wished she could go with him, but she knew he could handle his own. Spike set her up with the telly and a pile of Wicca and feminist magazines and went off to find his old friend Clem.
* * *
The operation hadn't taken long and Clem seemed quite confident the already healing tissues would keep it in place. Spike felt his abdomen gingerly on the walk home only to be told not to pick at it.
Clem's pay consisted of an order of hot wings, three bags of Doritos and a six-pack. Spike considered the services rendered to be worth quite a bit more than that so he threw in two Siamese he'd won at a poker game the night before. Clem seemed pleased as punch and offered himself up for any doctoring needs Spike may have in the future. Spike privately hoped the healing powers of the gem would prevent all possible needs, but it wasn't only he who may need demon doctoring and he gladly accepted.
* * *
Tara was slowly getting better and she was eager to join Spike out in the sun, which he had yet to take full advantage of. She promised him a day at the beach as soon as he was feeling better, “I've always wanted to learn how to surf! They have lessons only a few miles from town.” She looked excited and Spike felt excited for her
Spike was making it his priority to avoid the Slayer and her little daily warnings but she even had the gall to ask other students to move just so she could sit next to him. On one occasion a lanky boy with mournful brown eyes joined her.
After listening to two minutes of conversation with the poof-alike, Spike drew her aside after class, “Look, I know you hate me-“
“Understatement of the century,” She snorted.
Spike took a few deep, unnecessary breathes, “I know that, but that little wanker is a bad egg.”
“Why? Because he's human and normal? You have no right to pass judgment on him or on me! You're the worst person in ANY room; you do know that, right? You're an evil, undead freak and I'd appreciate if you kept your mouth shut about my love life, which is FINE by the way with no input from you.” Buffy stormed off fuming.
Spike looked after her and watched the boy follow, “Don't say I didn't warn you.” He muttered under his breath.
* * *
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