Banner by Spikeslovebite
A/N: As always I bow to the power of my wonderful betas. *applauds* Megan and Tam.
Chapter Two
New Friends
To say he was in shock could only be described as an understatement. Seeing his boss and friend - a man he’d looked up to for years - dismiss the fact that Buffy was still alive and may not want her private thoughts delved into was distasteful to say the least. A loathsome shudder wound its way up Wesley’s spine as he pondered the idea that Angel might see it as perfectly permissible to look into any one of their personal affairs without their knowledge. The idea of it was intolerable and bordered on frightening.
On his way back to his office to continue looking through the other books found at the dig, Wesley decided to take a little detour. He knew instinctively that he would find the vampire in Fred’s lab. She was the only one of them who’d treated Spike with friendship and an open mind since he’d burst forth from the amulet. Her sweet and understanding nature eased the bleached vampire’s loneliness in a virtual sea of people loyal to a man that couldn’t stand him.
After witnessing Angel’s blasé attitude in regards to Buffy’s feelings, Wes decided it was past time he got to know the newest souled vampire and formed his own opinions. Something told him that if he’d pointed out the same thing to Spike as he had to Angel, Spike would have understood the need to contact the Slayer first. Sure, being evil he might take a peek or two at the parts about him, but having the arrogance to believe he had the right to do so and boldly scouring its entirety without calling to tell her he had it was another story.
Walking into the lab he saw the black-clad figure standing next to the petite Texan. Wes was surprised to see a genuine smile on his face rather than the irritating smirk he wore around the rest of them.
“Ah, Spike, there you are. I was hoping you might have some time to be of assistance on a project,” Wesley said. He moved as close to Fred as he dared and inhaled her baby powder scent. Looking up, he was startled to find the vampire’s blue eyes fixed on him with an unfamiliar look of understanding. Spike smiled again without a hint of malice and Wes was aware of a feeling of kinship between them. Perhaps because of his own unrequited love, a small bond had begun forming with the bleached vampire.
“What do ya want my help for? Thought I was just an annoyance,” Spike questioned with a sardonic smirk.
“True, you can be exasperating at times, but I thought you might be able to identify some of the items from Sunnydale. It would be gratifying if we were able to return even a small portion to its proper owners.” Wesley smiled with a glint of amusement in his eyes at the vampire’s forthrightness, trying to imagine Angel ever being so honest.
“Might as well. It ain’t like I got anythin’ better to do,” Spike answered with an eye roll for Fred’s benefit.
“I’ll see ya later, Spike,” Fred drawled, giggling girlishly at his antics.
“Lead on.” Spike waved Wesley passed, giving him a wide berth.
This was the first time anyone had sought him out for any reason and since it was Wes, the big broody one’s right hand man, he was puzzled. “What’s all this really ‘bout, Oxford? The grand ponce want you keepin’ an eye on me or somethin’ while he noses ‘round in the Slayer’s private stuff?”
“Actually, Angel has no idea I came looking for you.” Wesley grinned wryly, walking through the opened door of his office. “His dismissive attitude towards contacting Miss Summers about her journal was a little disconcerting, I must say. I plan to be nowhere near him when she finds out. She will not be happy.”
“Where’s the fun in that? She’ll probably rip the git’s head off and I’m gonna have a front row seat to the festivities myself.” Spike chortled, sprawling out in a plush leather arm chair and grabbing one of the boxes full of Sunnydale paraphernalia.
“Yes, well as entertaining as that might be, I think I will steer clear when it happens.” Wesley laughed. Seeing Spike’s look of disbelief at his comment he elaborated, “I think whatever punishment the Slayer sees fit to bestow upon Angel for his arrogance is well deserved. I would never want anyone reading something as personal as what the few pages I glanced at held.”
“What kinda things we talkin’ ‘bout here, Watcher Junior?” Spike looked up with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. He knew it wasn’t right to go messing around in Buffy’s intimate thoughts, but it was hell knowing that she might have written something about him and not be able to see it. She’d kick his ass good and proper for even thinking of reading it and he knew that was what she should do, but being completely in the dark about her feelings was ripping him to shreds.
“Spike, I know how you feel about Buffy and believe me I can sympathize,” Wes said, looking him in the eyes and letting him see his honesty and understanding. “But all I am willing to say on the matter is that she seemed to be trying to analyze her life and come to terms with herself as well as others.”
Spike jumped up from his chair and began to pace as he ran his hand through his bleached locks. Wes was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to be able to resist having a little look-see at her journal.
“Yeah, well doesn’t make it any bloody easier knowin’ she’s probably said something ‘bout me in there and not bein’ able to see it, now does it? Know it’s not right, but it’s driving me over the soddin’ edge just thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Spike growled, irritated at his own lack of control.
“No, it doesn’t, but at least you don’t believe it’s your right to do so. As for Angel, I have begun to notice that he believes himself to be above reproach and that anything he does is for the best of all, no matter what that might entail,” Wesley stated, growing more agitated at finally realizing what had been prickling in the back of his mind about his boss lately. Angel believed himself to be above everyone else and that being a champion meant that whatever he decided was sanctioned by the Powers.
“What an egotistical prick,” Wesley murmured, forgetting he was in another’s company with his new insight. Shaking his head disdainfully, he looked up to see a gob-smacked Spike with his jaw hanging open.
Suddenly the room was filled with hearty laughter as Spike doubled over, clutching his sides and howling with glee. “Too right!” he exclaimed, trying to wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes as he straightened, still snickering.
“Bloody hell, Wes, you tryin’ to make me bust a gut?” Spike sauntered over to grab the glass of scotch Wesley was holding out with a huge grin plastered on his face.
“Not really. I had a revelation of sorts and it just slipped out. Glad I could be so amusing,” Wesley stated sarcastically but with a smile, turning back to his desk to go through the articles in one of the plastic container as Spike went back to his chair.
“Wes, what you said before…you know; ‘bout Buffy’s diary? Do ya think she’d hate me if I just peeked at it a bit? I don’t want to know everythin’. Well, that’s not true. I’d do just ‘bout anythin’ to read it all, but what I really wanna know is what she thought of me there at the last,” Spike muttered. He sat with his head in his hands and eyes downcast, waiting for Wesley to tell him how evil he was.
“From what I heard Buffy say when they stopped here for the night after you closed the Hellmouth, she was proud of you. I could see that she cared deeply about you. If Angel would have been paying attention to her instead of strutting around like he’d been the one to save the world, he would have seen the tears in her eyes as she spoke of your final sacrifice.” Wes stared down into his box. “If I was in your situation, I don’t know if I could stop myself from looking at it either.”
“Thanks, mate,” Spike murmured, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.
Partially scratched off silver writing caught Wesley’s eye, bringing him to what looked like the remains of a beat up photo album. The front cover was barely hanging on and he could tell even before opening it that most of the pages that would have held photos were missing. Someone was really going to enjoy getting at least a few pictures back, if they could find who they belonged to from their photos, that is.
Opening the ripped and dented front, he gazed down with awe. There in front of him, without one blemish, was a picture of the blonde slayer sitting on her front porch with her arms around her younger sister. Next to it was one of Joyce and Dawn hugging and smiling. It was amazing to see. Wes turned the pages, revealing that there were at least twenty different family photos left in perfect condition. Buffy is going to love these! he thought exultantly.
A derisive snort brought his attention back to the bleached vampire in the room. Looking at him closely for the first time he noticed the dejected slouch and sadness in Spike’s eyes. His decision made, the Englishman picked the photograph album up and took out the snapshot of Buffy and Dawn before taking them both over to Spike.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve found,” Wesley said, sitting in the chair next to Spike and placing the book in his hands.
Spike flipped to the first page and was struck with one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen in ages. His heart clenched, seeing the Summers women looking back at him with happy smiles. In one, Joyce smiled lovingly down at his niblet, who had her school work spread out before her. In another, the love of his un-life - who appeared to be about seventeen - sat on a swing surrounded by brilliant sunlight and laughing. So wrapped up in the images before him, Spike didn’t notice the moisture slipping from his lashes.
Wes watched as the vampire, whom his boss told them never to trust on many occasions, looked upon his supposed mortal enemy and her family with amazed reverence and love. The tears that wetted his cheeks gripped the ex-watcher’s heart and he knew he had to call Buffy and let her know Spike was alive. The bleached blonde sure wasn’t going to do it himself for fear of rejection. Yet another injustice that could be heaped at Angel’s door.
“Keep this one for yourself. No one else need know about it,” Wesley murmured, placing the picture of the Slayer and her sister in Spike’s hand before getting up and heading towards the door. He knew his continued presence would only embarrass the blonde. He would give him his privacy.
Exiting the room, he heard a barely perceptible whisper of thanks.
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