Filigreed Chains
by Barthane

The battle waged across Los Angeles for two days. Demon bodies and innocent civilians littered the grounds, broken and burned. Police did what they could to control the area, but their training tended towards dealing with domestic disputes and drug arrests rather than the hordes of Hell. Many had lost their lives in the line of duty. The few Slayers in the area at the time had fought bravely as they were inherently meant to, but there were far more demons then even their gifted powers could overcome alone. Surprisingly it was the criminal drug gangs of Latino and African-Americans who had done the most damage. Demons were certainly, large, powerful and terrifying, but to the hardened youth who faced off with them, they just needed more bullets to bring down. One thing they had in abundance was guns and bullets. Hundreds of demons lay at their feet riddled with holes, but there were many casualties. Recruitment of new members would be a necessity. The air itself was charged with mystical energy visible even to the most skeptical of observers. Every witch, shaman, warlock and mage within fifty miles of the epicenter was reeling from the physic energies swirling around Los Angeles. Two days of battle, marked by bravery and cowardice, death and pain. In the end, as the last of the demons fell only a lone Champion, battered, wounded, fatigued and a Demon Queen were left to face the final challenge.

The dragon had taken its share of victims, wreaking terror and destruction in its path. It had landed in an aqueduct after its wing had been slightly damaged when a news helicopter’s blades had veered to close. Its wing was torn, making flying difficult. The helicopter was a smoking ruin. It was in this dirty concrete canyon that it would meet its end. If a bard had been witness to the fight that waged for hours between the dragon and the black clad knight with shining hair, it would have been a tale told for centuries; a legend grown as large as King Arthur, Achilles and Beowulf. As it was the only one who could tell the tale was a Demon Queen who lacked the creative ability to do so. She could however appreciate the skill displayed by both beings as they fought to the death. And to the death it was.

Illyeria held her broken pet, his body sprawled on the ground burned beyond recognition, torn and ripped in to many places to count. The dragon’s death throes finally felling the champion; its deadly breath engulfing him just as his sword struck home, buried in its chest. Illyeria’s mind wandered to the events of the last few days, puzzling out what to do in this new reality. The leader she had reluctantly followed ashes were scattered to the winds. The warrior turned lawyer lay in an alley, cold and lifeless. And Wesley, enigmatic, puzzling Wesley was gone. The ache she felt at his loss was confusing and disturbing. She pondered the idea of whether it was herself or the shell or both that mourned him. It really didn’t matter, only the pain mattered, that and what to do about her pet that had fought so bravely and selflessly.  She had come to care for these creatures; they were her family of a sort. She must do what she could for the last one left. She delved into his mind gently pulling forth memories, sifting through the thoughts and emotions that coursed through his unconscious mind.

“Very well, this I can do for you. Your destiny now rests in your hands. You have earned that at least.”

Illyeria gently picked up her broken charge and gazed upwards. Closing her eyes she began to draw in vast amounts of energy required for her task. The energies readily available to her and no other began to coalesce around her, charging her depleted strengths. Inwardly smiling Illyeria thought to herself how Wesley would have reacted had he known that not all her powers were contained. Those with the magical affinity to notice began to realize that something powerful was drawing forth the energy that had so shaken them over those last two days. They trembled at what kind of being could contain and manipulate these chaotic forces. And then the energy was gone. The skyline of Los Angeles was clear, the stars shining brightly. No one witnessed a God Queen and a Champion step away from the body of a dragon and disappear into a swirling vortex.

Chapter 2

Sighing Joyce set down the papers she had been going over on her desk. She was glad that the gallery was doing well, but it meant more work for her to take home. Rubbing her eyes she got up and headed downstairs to finish cleaning the kitchen. With Buffy and Dawn out of town for a few days visiting their father the house seemed so quiet. Sighing again Joyce realized she better get used to it. In less then three months Buffy would be moving out to start college. Even though she would be attending UC Sunnydale thereby still being close to Joyce, she knew her visits would be infrequent at best. Slaying and new found independence wouldn’t make for very much mother and daughter time. At least Dawn would be there, although now entering her teenage years and as willful as Buffy, she didn’t look forward to the inevitable teenage growing pains that were certainly headed her way. Wryly shaking her head Joyce turned on the tap and began rinsing the few plates and silverware left from her earlier dinner. She wondered briefly if perhaps she should invite Rupert over for dinner tomorrow night.  She really didn’t like dining alone and it would giver her chance to discuss Buffy’s future with him. It was funny, she never considered discussing Buffy’s future with her father, and it was far more natural for her to immediately consider Rupert’s opinion. She would call him in a few minutes and invite him.

As she began to place the dishes into the washer a noise made her glance up and look out the window overlooking the backyard. Joyce’s mouth opened slightly as the noise increased and flashes of blue light began to form around the center of the back lawn. Wind was whipping around the leaves making it difficult to make any specific details out. Joyce opened the kitchen door and stepped out on the back porch, more than a little worried and curious. Sparks of blue lightning began to shape themselves and in a flash of power Joyce was rocked backwards into the door jamb. As she regained her footing she was stunned to see a small woman holding a black bundle in her arms, leaves beginning to settle around her as the wind abruptly stopped.

Gathering her courage Joyce stepped forward wishing fervently that Buffy was there to deal with this uninvited guest. Supernatural forces were at work she was sure; she just hoped they weren’t here to harm her.

“Hello, are you alright?” asked Joyce. “Are you hurt?”

Illyria calmly surveyed her surroundings. She had manifested in an old time and place which was always a bit disorienting. Glancing around she took in the flower beds and cut grass. She was positive that this was the place that her pet held so fondly in his memories. It was the time she was not completely positive of. As she began to adjust from the energies she had expended a voice called out to her. Her eyes turned towards the sound and evaluated the possible threat. A woman stood a few feet away from her, the light from her dwelling outlining her features. She saw a kindness in her features and heard the concern in her voice. It didn’t appear she would harm her or her pet at this time.

“What are you called creature?” Illyria’s demanded. While she didn’t appear to be a threat, she would take no chances.

“My name is Joyce Summers, this is my home that you, ah appeared in, or at or whatever.” “Who are you?”

Summers, the name sparked a memory in Illyria. A green eyed girl with golden hair, that image danced foremost in her vampires mind when she had probed him. Buffy Summers, that was the name she recalled from his mind. This woman was not she, but perhaps she knew her or better yet the vampire she shielded in her arms.

“I am seeking the one called Buffy Summers?” asked Illyria. “Where is she?”

Joyce’s heart stilled. This woman was obviously powerful and while she didn’t look like she was going to harm her at this point, the imperious tone she used regarding her daughter didn’t sit well with her.

“Buffy’s not here right now, what do you want with my daughter?” replied Joyce her tone more chilly now.

“You are her birth-giver, good” “When will she return, my time here is limited, I have something to leave for her to take care of.”

“Buffy will be gone for a few days, perhaps I can help you.”

“You are not the one he requires but you may be the only viable option.” “Very well I have no choice, you will care for him till he awakens or she returns to take up the task.” You will give me your word that you will guard and protect him with your life. You will allow no harm come to him.” You will do this Joyce Summers for him or I will kill you.”

Joyce took a step back, surprised at the intensity and dominance in this woman’s voice. She noticed then that she cradled the bundle she carried a bit more tightly and possessively. ‘OK’ thought Joyce, ‘This is defiantly something about Buffy’, and a ‘him’ as well. “I’m not sure what is going on, miss, what was your name, but if Buffy needs to take care of him you have my word that I will make sure that she does.” “Who is ‘him’ by the way, what do you need me to do?” Joyce rattled out. She was getting scared and knew that whatever was going on was way out of her area of expertise.

“Very well, my name is Illyria, now stand aside.” Illyria marched across the lawn and swept past a stunned Joyce and headed into the interior of her home. Moving past the kitchen island, her hawkish eyes took in the clean, well-kept house, settling on the large couch at the far end of the living room. Gently placing her burden on the couch, she then whipped around facing a befuddled Joyce and began to speak.

“He requires blood in copious amounts; make sure no sunlight touches him.” “If he survives, it will take him some time to recover, half-breeds are fragile.” “You will tell him I am returning to the Well.” “There is nothing here for me anymore, my Wesley is gone.” “I have much to do, before I sleep.” “Take care of him Joyce Summers, I will know if my pet comes to harm by you”. Turning back towards the couch, Illyria bent over and shifted into the form of the shell she inhabited. Quietly she whispered for a few moments into his unconscious ear before turning back to Joyce.

Joyce stood gaping at the pretty young woman that now stood before her, and watched in amazement as she returned to the blue countenance she wore before.” What are you, who are you and who am I now caring for, what blood, what is going on!”

“Farewell Joyce Summers, take care of Spike, he is a Champion and deserves his peace.” Illyria quickly walked forward past Joyce, blue energy crackling around her and in the blink of an eye disappeared; she had an important stop to make before she could rest.

In a villa outside of Rio de Janeiro one of the most notorious vampire couples in history we’re having another fight.

“What the bloody hell do you want from me, Dru!” “I’m doing all I can to make you happy, and you still toss me aside.” “Spike stepped over the body of a young girl and kicked aside the corpse of her father as he marched towards his dark princess. “I go out of my way to take you out for a nice dinner and…” Spike’s last words were cut off as his head was ripped from his body and his dust settled to reveal Illyria standing before Drusilla.

“I knew you would appear blue fairy, Miss Edith has whispered that you would save my William.” Drusilla’s voice was strangely coherent. Standing in the presence of such a being as Illyria brought a small measure of sanity back to Drusilla.

“You are aware that this had to be done.” “This timeline cannot function properly for my pet with two of him in attendance.” Illyria spoke briskly, she was getting tired and wanted to sleep.

“I knew that this must be, my William was always meant to dance with the sunshine, even now when he doesn’t want to.” Drusilla smiled wistfully. She had known from the moment her eyes fell upon young William that he was destined for great courage and great love, but not with her. She was only there to guide him, prepare him for what had come, or would come.

Illyria looked deeply at Drusilla and said. “Go to him, he may need you.”

Drusilla smiled; yes her boy needed her for at least a little while longer. She would go to the sunshine and make her understand. Looking up she found herself alone with only the dust of her dark knight still dancing in the air.

The Well was unchanged as was expected. She knew Drogyn would be able feel something when she appeared, but it was irrelevant. Soon she would sleep and let the millennia pass her by. She wasn’t comfortable in this form or time. Using the last of her considerable powers, Illyria warded the Well against any intrusion. Only a God could bypass her protective magics and it was highly unlikely that any were walking around in this day and time. Illyria merged with her sarcophagus, re-adjusting to its familiar presence. She closed her eyes and prepared to rest for eons. Her dreams were untroubled as she basked in the peace of brown eyes, gentle embrace and a soothing, softly accented voice that would remain with her forever. 

“Spike!” exclaimed Joyce. She turned to the couch now realizing that the bundle that woman carried was human shaped. She had not really had a chance to really look at it in all the excitement. Joyce now looked fully on the black mass that lay upon her couch and promptly retched.   


Chapter 3

He was destroyed. That was the only word that could begin to describe the damage that had been done to Spike’s body. Shakily Joyce stood up from where she had hunched over as the contents of her earlier meal emptied themselves onto her recently vacuumed carpet. Steeling herself to deal with what was the most horrendous sight she had ever seen; Joyce once again prepared to focus her eyes on the vampire who Buffy had once warily admitted was one of her greatest foes. That begrudging admission had been dragged out of Buffy after she had chastised her mother for drinking cocoa with him last year. Reconciling the thought of the heartbroken, handsome vampire she knew and the burned wretch that lay before was difficult for Joyce. She was able to admit to herself that this was a deadly vampire that could kill her easily if he were able, however she had made a promise that she would look out for him. He hadn’t harmed her when they had shared their “Nesquik” moment as Dawn refereed to it, so she felt safe enough with him here.

His face was burned beyond recognition. She wouldn’t have been able to tell it was Spike if that woman hadn’t told her his identity. It appeared that his eyeballs had burst from the heat of whatever fire had enveloped him. His left side seemed the have born the worst of the heat but that didn’t really matter as his right side was severely damaged as well. The skin had been burned down to the bone. His hair was gone exposing his charred scalp. It appeared that his ears were gone as well; at least she couldn’t see any earlobes where they should be. Moving her eyes down his body she saw huge gaping tears in his flesh. It looked to her that whatever had burned him had sealed these massive wounds, maybe that was good. They we’re bleeding certainly but it only looked to be seeping wounds, rather than free-flowing. His clothes, what was left of them, stood in patches over his lean frame. Joyce thought his back wasn’t burned as badly but in order to check she’d have to roll him over and she just wasn’t prepared to do that yet. His left leg had a wound down the whole thigh that gaped open widely. It also was bent at an odd angle; she thought it may be broken. Oh God she could see the bone. Bile threatened to rise once more in her throat.

Joyce turned away before she threw up again. The smell of charred flesh finally beginning to permeate the air, causing Joyce to step farther away from him. This was too much. She needed to help him, and frankly Joyce realized she desperately wanted to help him, but this was beyond her. She needed help, and blood, the woman said he needed blood. Moving to the kitchen, Joyce, with shaking hands, dialed a number praying that there would be an answer. Buffy wasn’t here. She needed help.

“Rupert its Joyce, please God Rupert you have to come over. I don’t know what to do. I need blood, where do I get blood...” Joyce cried hysterically, the events of the evening catching up with her.

“Joyce are you alright, what is happening, Joyce!”

“I’m fine Rupert, its, he’s hurt Rupert, I need you here, please.”

“Joyce stay there I’ll be there presently, just stay calm.” Rupert returned the phone to its cradle and dashed for the door of his apartment. It wasn’t like Joyce to be this distraught. Something had disturbed her greatly. With Buffy out of town she was on her own and that with that thought Giles halted. Returning to the phone he quickly dialed Willow’s number hoping she would be home.

“Hi Giles, is it bad, you wouldn’t call if its not bad.” Willow’s chipper tone temporarily confused him, how had she known it was him calling.

“Willow how did you know I was calling, have you been doing magic again, I’ve asked you repeatedly not to…”

“Caller ID Giles, caller ID, no magic, just the you know sciencey kind..”

“Fine, meet me in front of your house, I’m on my way. Joyce called something’s going on, now move.” Without waiting for a response Giles once again ran out into the night to confront whatever had so upset his Slayers mother.

Willow stood worriedly on her front porch looking for the headlights that would signal Giles arrival. Joyce was in trouble? Buffy maybe? Willow knew that answers her inquisitive mind sought would have to wait till Giles got there. Thankfully the screech of tires heralded the Gilesmobile arrival as Xander frequently called it. Dashing down the steps Willow threw herself into the passenger seat as Giles quickly headed in the direction of Buffy’s house.

“Giles what’s going on is Joyce ok, or Buffy, is she hurt?”

“I’m not sure Willow, Joyce called distraught, I didn’t understand much of what she was saying. She said something about needing blood and someone hurt, but not her. I really don’t know what we will be presented with when we arrive.”

“OK Giles, we’ll just, you know, deal with whatever it is.”

“Indeed”

Giles turned into the driveway parking next to Joyce’s jeep. Grabbing a stake stashed under his seat, he and Willow raced up the steps prepared to face whatever had traumatized poor Joyce. Before they had even made it fully up the stairs, the door was flung open to reveal a Joyce who was seemingly far calmer than what he had expected.

“Are you OK Mrs. Summers”, said Willow.

Joyce breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of both Giles and Buffy’s quirky friend Willow. After calling Giles she had taken a few deep breathes and steadied herself for what needed to be done. She knew she needed help to face this, but she had found a new determination to deal with this trauma. Spike was hurt. He needed help. She had promised to do so. This was her mantra and she would see this through. “I’m fine Willow, thank you both for coming, please come in.”

Chapter 4

Joyce led both Willow and Giles into the living room. Standing in front of Spike to block their view as much as possible, she related the events of the evening as clearly as she could. She knew that Rupert would want a more detailed accounting later, but for know she just stuck to the pertinent details. Spike was hurt. He needed help. She had promised to do so. Standing aside she let them see Spike for the first time hoping that they would know something about vampires that might help him. The blood was important, she knew that, she simply didn’t know where one procured that kind of thing, and hopefully Rupert would.

Willow took in the unconscious vampire lying on couch and barely managed to keep from gagging. The last time she had seen Spike he’d had a broken bottle and was threatening to umm do stuff to her. Willow rarely admitted it to herself, but Spike had really scared her that day. The drama that occurred after the incident with Oz, Xander and Cordelia had mostly pushed those thoughts away, but seeing him here again and so very, very broken brought those feelings back. The last time Spike was merely emotionally damaged. This, this was bad, really, really bad.

Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them. He had seen a great deal in both his raucous youth and even more so as a Watcher. Rarely had he seen a being as traumatized as what he witnessed before him. He wanted answers desperately after hearing Joyce’s abbreviated tale, but his Watchers instincts warned him that putting down one of the most vicious Master Vampires in history when he was so weakened was prudent. Resolving himself to do just that, Giles reached into his jacket extracting a stake and prepared to put an end to William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers..

“What are you doing Rupert!” Joyce was stunned to see Rupert about to ruthlessly kill the incapacitated vampire.

“Joyce, I understand you feel obligated to help Spike and your loyalty to your promise is admirable, however Spike is dangerous and frankly there will never be a better time to end him then right now. If it soothes you at all it would actually be a mercy to end his life. He is badly hurt, and it is likely that his condition is beyond what we could provide anyway. We would be doing him a service.”

“No”. Both Joyce and Giles turned surprised at Willows outburst. Willow turned to them and quietly said, “We’re the good guys Giles, even Buffy as much as she hates Spike wouldn’t dust him like this, it isn’t right. Something happened here Giles, whatever did this to Spike could still be out there, we need answers. Plus Mrs. Summers promised and you can’t break a promise; that leads to badness.”

With a huff Giles acquiesced ‘I know I’ll regret this decision.’ “Very well Willow, at the least Buffy will return in a few days and she can kill him. He’s so weakened he won’t be a threat to anyone until she returns. And Willow you are quite right, Spike has answers that we need. I’m going to Willy’s and get some blood, it looks like we’ll have to somehow give it to him intravenously, his throat is practically ripped out. Willow call Oz and have him meet you here, we’ll need to move him to the basement and chain him up.”

Joyce smiled shaking her head. She knew Rupert would want to kill Spike and was prepared to defend her decision. She was pleasantly surprised that Willow had done it for her. Now that Rupert was here and taking charge of the situation, she needed to set some ground rules on the disposition of Spikes care. “First of all Buffy will not be “dusting” anyone. Spike will remain here under my care until he is fit to look after himself. Secondly, I will not have you chain a wounded man in a cold basement. Willows friend Oz can help you carry him up to Buffy’s room, Rupert, I’ll hear no more about chains. Alright hop to it, we have a vampire to nurse back to health.”

Giles, shaking his head, made his way out of the house and towards Willy’s. Meanwhile Willow and Joyce in a newfound understanding both stared down at Spike.

“He’s pretty messed up Mrs. Summers, I mean, what if we can’t fix him?”

“You can call me Joyce, Willow, you’re an adult now, and yes he is badly hurt. I have to believe he can be nursed back. He hasn’t turned to dust so that’s a good sign right.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true, that which doesn’t dust you makes you stronger maybe.”

Willow began to understand why Xander made jokes when things were squicky like this. She headed to the phone and called Oz explaining the situation, grateful that her boyfriend was so non-plussed about these kinds of things. After hanging up, she informed Joyce that Oz was on his way. Giles arrived about half an hour after Oz, enlisting the quiet young man’s aid in bringing in two large coolers of blood. Steeling themselves for the task ahead, Oz and Giles picked up Spike and headed up to Buffy’s room which Joyce had prepared for them. Willow had recommended placing a dark blanket over the window so he didn’t get any more ‘crispy fried’ than he already was. It was Oz who figured out that they could use a funnel angled into his ruined throat to feed him. After force feeding him four bags of heated blood, which Joyce insisted upon doing herself, Giles suggested that they remove what was left of his clothing and clean his wounds. It was job that required a strong stomach. Late into the evening Oz and Giles finished cleaning and dressing his wounds. Finally they lay a sheet over his still form, turned off the light and headed downstairs, where thankfully Joyce had a tall order of Scotch waiting for Giles and warm cocoa for Oz.

Spike hadn’t stirred at all.

Chapter 5

Days passed quickly for Joyce and Willow. Willow had insisted that she stay in Dawns room to help Joyce and tend to Spikes feeding during the day while Joyce worked. Joyce and Willow soon came to realize that they genuinely liked each other. Willows keen intellect and sunny disposition meshed well with Joyce’s need to nurture and console. Buffy rarely spent hours talking to her mother about the little things in life, and Willow found that Joyce was more than willing to discuss practically anything her heart desired. Willows own mother was fairly standoffish about sharing emotional conversations with her daughter. Willow was immensely content to discuss her relationship with Oz, Xander, Buffy and even Giles with Joyce. Considering the circumstances their budding friendship began in both women we’re relatively happy. The days flew by.

Giles however was not happy. He stopped by often to check on the two women’s safety and Spikes condition. He had made little progress on discerning who Illyria was. The reference to the Well was also confusing and Giles became frustrated at the lack of information he was able to find. The Council had the resources he needed to research this further, but with that no longer available he found himself at an impasse. He wanted answers that only Spike could provide, and it appeared that Spike wouldn’t be forthcoming anytime soon. While his condition was improving he still had not moved or made any indication that he was less then comatose. Oz and Giles bathed him once a day, scrubbing away his burnt skin and scabs. His skin was beginning to heal slowly, and patched spots of pink began to show. His hollow eye sockets began to fill slowly with liquids and bits of matter, and Giles assumed his eyes would eventually re-grow. He was amazed at the resiliency of the vampire to re-generate, albeit slowly. Oz had re-set his leg and it appeared the shattered bones of his body we’re slowly knitting themselves back to normal. It was still gruesome to look at him and he tried to avoid doing so. Joyce and Willow had apparently made their peace with caring for Spike, but for Giles that day would not be coming soon. Thankfully he would continue his research, fruitless though it was progressing and consuming a great deal of Scotch. Spikes empty eye sockets haunted him.

There was pain. So much pain. Pain and sounds, smells and confusion. Deep within the recesses of Spikes mind he knew that he needed to wake, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was somehow aware that he was being moved and fed, tended to, but he was dissociated with it. Instead Spike did what he could to remove himself even further. He walked in worlds effulgent, reliving moments scattered through his life. Standing in the back of a church dressed in his Sunday best, while the Vicar extolled the virtues of piety and chastity. His father looked down at him smiling and holding his hand. His father being laid to rest beneath a cloudy London afternoon, his Mother crying gently at her loss. William studying for an exam that would ensure his and his mothers future. William passing his exam. Spike shoving a railroad spike through the skull of Nigel Jamisson, the bastard who had tormented him all through University. Spike holding Drusilla as he ran from a mob. William gazing adoringly at Cecily Adams, wishing he could be with her. Spike standing outside on a hotel balcony in Paris fascinated by the fireworks in celebration of Bastille Day. Image after image raced through his pain ridden mind. Image after image of joy and violence. Image after image of rejection and loss. But eventually the images slowed and steadied to one image. One perfect image of a golden haired angel with wide green eyes staring up at him. One perfect image of this woman, this Buffy, this love.

“I believe in you.”

Spike woke screaming. Blind, and in more agony then he had ever experienced, his senses bombarded with smells that shouldn’t exist. His scream was silent, air gushing out of his still healing throat. Spike flailed about him desperately, thrashing and mewling as he searched for any explanation to what had happened to him. Flashes of memory assaulted him, Angel, Blue, a dragon. The dragon, fighting the dragon. Pain. Spike collapsed again once more unconscious, his last coherent sense before oblivion was the sound of a door slamming and ‘Bit yelling,

“MOM! We’re home!”

Chapter 6

Dawn bounced into the house leaving Buffy to struggle in the driveway with their bags. She was the one who had Slayer strength, why should she muscle her own suitcases up the steps. As she headed into the kitchen Dawn was greeted with the sight of Willow drying her hands on a dish towel as she headed towards her.

“Dawn? What are you doing home; I thought you wouldn’t be back till after the weekend?”

“Hi Willow, where’s Mom? We got back early ‘cause Daddy had to fly to New York for a meeting and we didn’t want to stay with his skanky girlfriend. How come you’re here? Oh gosh Willow I had so much fun! We went to the beach like almost every day and there were these so cute surfer guys that we’re way hitting on Buffy. It was a blast”

Willow was trying to keep up with everything that Dawn was saying, but it was nearly impossible as the frisky teen began to relate two weeks of vacation down into two minutes of girly speech. ‘Oh God, Buffy’s home’ ‘Spike, oh God.’ Willow dashed past Dawn rounding the corner just as Buffy reached the top of the stairs and headed for her room.

“Buffy! Wait! Don’t go in there!” Willow frantically called to her friend. She needed to explain what was going on before there was any serious Buffy freakage. Joyce was supposed to handle this, but as she hadn’t expected her girls home today, and so she had gone grocery shopping.

“Willow, what are you doing here?” replied a surprised Buffy as she opened her bedroom door to enter and deposit her suitcases.

Willow raced up the stairs trying to get to Buffy before she had a chance to see Spike. ‘This is bad, very much bad’ thought Willow. Willow finally made it up to Buffy, but not before she had entered her room. Silence greeted Willow as she rushed in after Buffy, bumping into the petite blonde who stood in the darkened room. “Buffy wait, please…”

“What happened to Spike, asked Buffy quietly. “What did this to him?” Buffy stood very still, alert for any danger, her eyes never leaving the still form of the vampire who lay upon her bed. He had obviously been burned badly, that much she could tell as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Snapping on the bedroom light switch, she got a better look at him. The sight would haunt her for many years.

“You recognize him, you know that’s Spike?” asked Willow.

“It’s Spike, I can feel that it’s him. I don’t really know how or why. I can feel if it was Angel too like that. Spike has a, well I guess it’s kind of a vibe about him, a hum. What happened Will and why is he here in my room.”

“It’s a long story Buffy, your Mom was supposed to fill you in when you got back. We don’t have a lot of information; hopefully Spike can fill in the blanks when he wakes up. But he hasn’t even moved in the eight days he’s been here.”

“Eight days!? He’s been here for eight days and no one called me. He could have woken up and killed my Mom.”

“Buffy, he’s completely trashed, he couldn’t even kill a fly if he wanted too, plus he doesn’t have any eyes, so kinda hard for him to go all stalker on us. He’s really hurt Buffy, and Joyce promised Illyria that she’d take care for him until you got back.”

‘Spike doesn’t have eyes?’ Buffy stepped closer to the bed and looked down on Spikes slowly healing form and looked intently at where his eyes should have been, Small milky globs of matter we’re floating in a thick liquid, ‘Oh God’ Seeing Spike without eyes was somehow very disturbing to Buffy. His deep blue eyes had bored into her on to many occasions to forget their intensity. Buffy hated him certainly, but not enough to wish that he was blind. What if his eyes didn’t grow back right, how would he see, how would he fight. Spike was a warrior like her; he deserved to go out fighting, whole, hopefully with her stake in his chest.

“Come on Buffy, lets go downstairs, I’ll tell you everything I know. I need to feed him in a little bit though.”

“You’re feeding him, with what?”
“Oh Giles and Oz have been bringing over blood from Willy’s, he goes through like ten packs a day, it’s actually pretty gross, but now that his throat wound has closed we don’t have to use the funnel.”

‘Funnel?’ There we’re funnels? Buffy was getting more confused by the minute, she needed answers.

“Ewww, that’s disgusting, Buffy you really need to start cleaning your room, you can’t leave dead people lying around, it’s unsanitary.”

Buffy and Willow snapped around to see Dawn standing in the doorway staring at Spike. Buffy could tell that Dawns flippant remarks were merely meant to shield herself from what she was seeing. Buffy wished she could do something to forget about what was lying on her bed.

“Is that Spike like you said, Buffy, is it?” Dawn was not necessarily as flighty a teen as she often let others believe. Being perceived as a bubbly, bouncy brat meant people, mostly Buffy, wouldn’t hassle her to much about the important things. But Dawn tended to have deep thoughts which she kept to herself, and one of those thoughts was about Spike. Dawn had only seen him twice, once when he had made his deal with Buffy to kill Angel, and the other when he decided that he liked her mother’s cocoa and conversation rather then their blood. She had talked to him for a minute or two while Buffy had been in her room retrieving whatever magic book Willow needed for s spell and he had been really nice to her. Oh he scared her certainly and in different ways. Whenever she thought about him, she got kind of a rumbly feeling in her stomach, that wasn’t unpleasant, but still, way weird. He was way cooler than anyone she had ever met, with the neat coat and that wicked accent. She had never liked Angel, but Spike, well Spike was funny and he really made Buffy mad. Dawn was pretty sure anyone who could make Buffy that mad couldn’t be all bad.  With Buffy and Willow in her way she couldn’t get a good look at him, but the way Buffy was acting she was guessing it wasn’t good.

“Yeah Dawnie it’s Spike, but don’t go in here, ok? He’s well, he’s really gross looking right now so stay out. Alright Wills, I’m gonna call Giles. As soon as Mom gets home I want the full story.”

The whole story took several hours as Joyce, Willow and Giles filled the two Summers girls in on what had happened over the past few days. Interruptions we’re frequent between the never ending questions with few answers and the need to feed and dress Spikes wounds. Buffy was perfectly willing to let her Mom feed Spike, she apparently didn’t have a problem doing it. But when her Mom stated that she would help Giles bathe and clean Spikes wounds since Oz was having a “wolfy” night and wouldn’t be available. Buffy put her foot down, hard.

“No way, Mom you are not going to do that. It’s bad enough that you’re feeding him, you don’t need to be touching his disgusting, umm parts. Call Xander make him do it.”

“Buffy, Xander’s on that whole see the sights adventure, he won’t be back for a couple of months” stated Willow.

“Oh right, shoot. OK Giles do you have any guy friends, you know that you drink beer with and watch football, that could help out?”

Giles removed his glasses and began to earnestly scrub them as he replied, “Buffy I do not drink beer or watch what I’m assuming you mean as American football. I have been known to watch a few Manchester United games while hoisting a pint or two, but to answer your question; no I don’t have any male friends that I would be comfortable asking to join me in bathing a man. Furthermore….” Giles speech was cut off as the doorbell rang.

Buffy jumped up from the coach and ran to the door thankful for the distraction. She really wished she could scrub her mind of the images of Giles and Xander bathing Spike that had been conjured up. Buffy flung open the door completely unprepared for the sight in front of her. Standing on her doorstep, clutching a valise, and a doll stood Drusilla.

“Good evening sunshine, I ‘ave come to care for my poor William. Would you be so kind as to invite me in?”

Chapter 7

Buffy immediately launched a left hook, driving Drusilla away from the door. “Giles!”  Leaping out after the vampiress, Buffy pulled a stake from the waistband of her jeans. Drusilla had stumbled backwards from the force of Buffy’s punch, dropping her valise, and shifting into her true form. As Buffy launched herself towards Drusilla, she quickly tried to remember what she could about Spikes ho-bag of a girlfriend. ‘She killed Kendra, Angel made her crazy before he turned her, that thrally thing she can do, she’s pretty, she turned into Jenny, she’s nuts, and she has, what was that, visions’. She was dangerous, maybe even more so than Spike. At least Spike always fought fair, sort of anyway. Buffy had no idea how strong Drusilla was or how to avoid any of her tricks. But if Drusilla was here, and wanted Spike, she knew she was perfectly willing to kill anyone to get to him. Buffy was tempted to just go inside and throw Spike out the door to her and be done with the whole mess. But the Slayer knew that she couldn’t. That blue woman, Illyria had said he was Buffy’s to take care of which was really wigging her out. She needed answers from the bleached idiot, well not so bleached anymore, more like crispy chia pet idiot. For now though she had to figure out a way to get Drusilla out of here, without killing her. If Spike knew that she had killed Drusilla, he’d never cough up the details. Time to do her Slayer thing.

Drusilla had other ideas. She had expected the Slayers attack, and wasn’t overly surprised to see the little wretch pull out a stake and race towards her. Drusilla spun to the right dancing away from the kick that Buffy aimed at her head. ‘Naughty little girl hitting at Mummy’, thought Drusilla as she weaved away dodging every blow that came her way. ‘Doesn’t the bad Slayer know that Mummy has to be here.’ Drusilla’s sanity had been burned away by her Daddy so many years ago, but what Daddy and Grandmummy forgot, and what Spike never had, was that Drusilla was extremely intelligent. Drusilla observed clearly everything around her. She could evaluate any situation and make it relative to her own fractured reality. She was insane, but never was Drusilla stupid, careless at times, but never stupid. That and her ability to see into the future had always made her a dangerous opponent. Drusilla continued to dodge and weave knowing that Buffy’s inability to land a blow would frustrate her. It was time for Mummy to teach the sunshine that the moon could dance and charm as well.

Buffy was getting mad. Drusilla was laughing at her, she could tell. Every time she came close to landing a blow upon Spike’s nut job of a squeeze, she would dance away with arms out wide and giggle. If there was one thing Buffy couldn’t stand it was being mocked. She despised it when Spike did it to her, as he often did. Practically every time they had fought, had been marked in some way by a laughing remark at her fighting skills, her breast size, her weight or her choice in boyfriends.  God she hated him and now his whacko girlfriend was doing the same thing without even saying a word. Screw Spike, she’d get the answers from him she wanted, and then she’d tell him she’d staked Drusilla’s ass.

“Naughty sunshine, stop trying to slap and snarl at Mummy. There won’t be any treats for you if you misbehave.”

‘Whoa, she’s talking’ thought Buffy, ‘OK that’s progress sort of.’ “”Nice of you to come visit Drusilla, feel free to stop by again never.” Buffy stopped moving towards Drusilla and instead began circling her looking for any opening she could use. Maybe if she backed her up towards the fence or side of the house she could pen her in and keep her from dodging out of the way as she drove her stake through her overly buxom chest. ‘God slutty much’, she was showing more cleavage than a Baywatch re-run. ‘Bitch’

Drusilla giggled again, ‘silly Slayer she already begins to burn from Williams’s fire.’ ‘Even now, even always my dark knight and the sunshine begin to dance.’ ‘But the same music will no longer play, naughty little girl’ Spike is his own dog again. Bad girl kicking the puppy, hit, hit, woof, woof. He won’t yip around nipping at your heels. No more scaps, no more begging for treats. He was a good dog and was spanked. Now he’ll be a bad dog and the bad, mean girl will get no licks and kisses.’ “No more treats for you sunshine unless you earn them.” Drusilla giggled.

‘Treats, what treats are you talking about?” Maybe she could reason with her, yeah that would be fun.

“William needs his Mummy, Slayer. The big lizard burnt him all up. All his bits and pieces are sore. He can’t see the stars. Mummy can kiss the boo boo’s and make him all better. You could too, but he won’t let you. His spark says no to you, but his lovely demon will say yes to me.” Drusilla paused for a moment taking time to organize her thoughts, this was important and she had to make her intentions clear. Struggling she said. “He was hurt Buffy, badly. His body can’t regenerate from that much trauma without the right kind of blood. Daddy could do it, but he won’t, it’s not time for Daddy & William to dance. You could give him your blood, but he won’t take it, it would burn him up inside, make the spark hate him. I have to nurse him. I am his Mummy. I can make him better. I have to make him better. He is a knight and now as then is his time to joust. Please Buffy, I came to help my William. Let me help my poor lost poet.”

Buffy stood before Drusilla, lowering her stake to her side, stunned by what Drusilla was saying. The few times she had been in contact with the darkly beautiful and insane vampiress, Drusilla had never been as coherent as just now. She didn’t understand very much of what she was saying, but it was clear enough to her that Drusilla genuinely wanted to help Spike.

“She may be right Buffy”, stated Giles from where he had been observing the two from the porch. Giles memories of Drusilla we’re a bit more traumatic than Buffy’s. He still carried the pain of her foray into his mind when manifesting herself to him as Jenny. Surprisingly he realized that it had been Spike who recommended that course rather than the physical torture planned by Angelus. The vampire had saved his life that night undoubtedly, but the emotional scars left by Drusilla were still a bit raw. But that was for another day, and a bottle of scotch to deal with. “If the records we have are accurate, Drusilla is indeed his Sire and therefore her blood would be extremely potent and quite probably be able to restore his body to working form far more readily than the blood we have been force-feeding him.”

Drusilla turned towards the sound of Giles voice and a small smile graced her lips. “He smells like tweed, but I quite like him, can I eat him later?”

“What? NO! There will be no eating of anyone. Wait Giles even if we agree to Sybil here helping Spike there is no way, she could. I’m not letting her into my house. She’ll try to snack on everyone. Plus she’s nuts.”

“Bad Slayer, I came for crumpets not tea. Mummy will be a good girl and leave the pretty people alone. Miss Edith made me promise to not be naughty.’ Drusilla held out her doll towards Buffy. “You can hold onto Miss Edith for me until I am done. I’ll be a good girl, Daddy and William will both be very cross if I’m naughty, I’ll be good.”

Buffy reached out tentatively and took Drusilla’s ratty porcelain doll from her. She remembered Angel had once told her that Miss Edith was Drusilla’s link to her visions and her most dear possession. If Drusilla was willingly handing it over to her, she had to believe that she was sincere in her promise. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. The Hellmouth must really be throwing out some major mojo towards her. Only in a bizzaro world would William the Bloody be upstairs in her room passed out and deep-fried with his girlfriend standing on her lawn trying to make nice. Wait didn’t Spike say she had dumped him last time he was in town, if that was so, why was she here?

“I thought you dumped him Dru, why do you even care what happens to him?”

Turning towards the slight blonde Drusilla looked deep into her eyes, swimming across oceans of time to an alley in London in 1880, a tower with two broken bodies, one dead the other wishing he were so, tripping towards a house that was torn apart by two beings merging as one, watching a battle and a Champion burn from his own fires within as a lost girl admitted what her heart should have felt. And for the first time she stated with absolute clarity what she had known since she first laid eyes on the broken poet who would shake the foundations of Heaven with his acts of bravery, love and sacrifice;

“He was never mine Buffy. I was only there to set him on his path, help him start his journey. It was Angelus and myself that would forge the blade he would become. It was or is …someone else who would temper that blade. William walks in worlds unknown, glowing, effulgent. He always belonged to the sunshine.” Drusilla turned and headed towards the front door anxious to begin the many feedings it would take to restore her son. She turned though on her way looking back at Buffy and said, “Always”

Chapter 8

Drusilla resumed her journey towards her waiting Childe gracefully bending and gripping her valise, she glided up the stairs where a small crowd stood behind Giles. She took in the red witch nervously peeking over the British Watchers shoulder. The Slayers mother stood in the doorway, a gangly dark haired girl shyly standing at her side. To Dru’s eyes the girl radiated power, she was shiny. She would have to sit down and visit with her; perhaps she would like to join her for a tea party. Drusilla had been to many parties with her Daddy and remembered that she would have to be on her best behavior. She could be a good girl.

Giles stepped forward blocking Drusilla’s path. “Drusilla, there are a few conditions that you will have to agree to before we proceed.” Giles spoke gently but firmly. It was his opinion that when dealing with the mentally disturbed, and frankly they didn’t come more disturbed then the vampiress standing before him, that patience was necessary. “I believe that your intentions are genuine in wishing to help Spike, but I can’t allow you to enter this house until you agree to follow the guidelines we establish.”

Drusilla lowered her lashes and chin and looked up demurely at Giles. “I’ll be on my best behavior, kind sir. Mummy always said to be a good girl when visiting. Be polite, don’t fidget, sit up straight, say please and thank you.” Drusilla accented her words be pointing a delicate finger after each statement.

“Yes well, be that as it may. You will be escorted to Spike by Buffy who will stay with you as you ..err feed him. When you are finished you will then be escorted to the basement where you will be securely chained. We will feed you however much blood you require. You will not under any circumstances attempt to use a thrall on anyone in this home. If you do so, you will be staked immediately. Have I made myself clear?”

Drusilla smiled widely at Giles, “Chains oh yes I quite like chains. Will you be the one to chain me up? Will you be naughty?”

“Now see here, there will be…”

“Enough Rupert, Drusilla is to be a guest in my home. She loves Spike and is here to help him. She will be accorded every courtesy. She has given her word not to harm anyone. Stop threatening to chain everyone up. Please Drusilla come in, would you like some tea or cocoa?”

“Joyce really!” Giles couldn’t begin to fathom what went through that woman’s mind sometimes.

“Geez Mom would you stop making nice to the blood sucking vampires. They’re not people. Drusilla and Spike would both kill you in a heartbeat just for fun.” Buffy bounded up the steps following Drusilla into the house. “You’ve got to stop giving them cocoa. And while we’re on the subject, how come you never offered Angel anything when he was over?”

“Buffy don’t be impolite. Drusilla has obviously traveled far and may wish to freshen up before seeing Spike. And as for Angel, I never offered him anything because he’s, what did Spike call him, “a bloody wanker.” Oh I’m sorry Drusilla I understand from Spike that you and Angel we’re rather close, that was rude of me.”

Drusilla smiled delightedly at this woman. She was simply divine. “It’s alright, Angel is my Daddy, Mrs. Summers, but he can be very, very naughty. And perhaps some tea later.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her Mother was chatting amiably with a psycho mass murdering skank. And the psycho mass murdering skank was being gracious about it. Shaking her head she followed them into the living room, Willow and Giles right on her heels. She noticed Dawn gazing with huge eyes at Spikes girlfriend or ex-girlfriend now she supposed. Taking a moment to really look Drusilla over, Buffy couldn’t help a twinge of envy from creeping into her belly. Drusilla sat upon the edge of the couch cushion, feet crossed and angled under her. Hands folded into her lap. Her posture was perfect. And she was very beautiful. She could see why Spike and Angel both loved her. Her dark hair fell in gentle tresses down to her shoulders and the lustrous strands lay delicately on her breasts. Her way to large breasts in Buffy’s opinion. She supposed if Xander was here he’d be ogling her. Spike was a pig and so was Angel for that matter. Whore. She barely registered the small talk that her Mother was making. After a few moments she couldn’t tolerate this twisted parody any longer. “Mom I hate to break up this little Martha Stewart party, but I think Drusilla should check on Spike.”

Joyce frowned at her eldest daughter’s rudeness but conceded that she was probably right. There would plenty of time over the next few days to get to know Drusilla better. “You’re right dear even if a little impolite. Drusilla would you like to see Spike now?  I should warn you, he’s not his usual charming self and is not very pleasant to look at.”

Drusilla patted Joyce’s knee and smiling said, “I would like that very much.” Standing and looking at Buffy she stated, I’ve seen him broken before, it will be alright. Come Slayer let’s see what little fishes are swimming in Williams head.”

Warily Buffy led Drusilla up the stairs, Giles following behind them. The Watcher couldn’t help himself. It would be fascinating to witness such a unique event. Opening her bedroom door Buffy motioned Drusilla in and stood aside as Drusilla got a look at a Spike that was so far removed from her. This wasn’t her Spike, but he was still her William. Moving to the bed she looked down on him taking in the damage to her Childe. He would heal, that she was sure of, but it would be painful. She was more worried about healing his mind. She could feel him lost inside himself. Getting him to feed would be difficult. She’d have to wake his demon at the very least. Well she could do it. That’s what good Mummies did.

“His poor eyes. Like the sea they are, stormy and hungry. All gone, all lost. Wrap them up and shut them away. The sea will calm and storm again.” Drusilla gently sat on the bed next to Spike. Reaching for the bandages that covered the nightstand, she carefully lifted his head and wrapped his eyes. She began to hum and whisper as she did so. Singing nonsensical songs she rubbed her hands over his face and body. His burns didn’t bother her at all as she caressed his skin all the while making sure that she was making those soothing sounds that he needed. His spark shied away from her, rebelling. His demon knew her though, it knew her very well. It was his demon that needed to be pacified, made to feel safe and cared for so he would come out and play. Reaching her arm around his shoulders she lifted him gently and rested his head against her throat. Rocking him back and forth, holding him in her arms like a baby she sang and murmured, willing him to awaken and take what she was giving.

Spike stirred within himself. The constant pain was still there. The images never ceasing. He wanted to rest, drive away the pain, go back to that dark place where there was to more anguish. But something was calling to him. Something primeval. Something familiar. He struggled upwards towards that sound. He needed to go it. Needed to pacify it, dominate it. There was safety there. Spike stirred.

Drusilla’s eyes we’re closed concentrating completely on her task. She was unaware and would be uncaring at the pairs of eyes staring at her. Willow, Dawn and Joyce stood in the doorway of Buffy’s room, transfixed on the sight before him. To Willow it was voyeuristic. The image of Drusilla rocking Spike, stroking his burnt skin as if it was the softest silk, and singing was sensual and dark at the same time. Joyce as a Mother had a slightly different perspective. She remembered vividly when Buffy was eight and she’d had a high fever. Joyce remembered holding Buffy in the same manner, making the same kind of soothing sounds. To Joyce it was natural and beautiful. Dawn was embarrassed. She didn’t like seeing Spike like this at all. Drusilla was fascinating and she hoped that if she was quiet Mom & Buffy would ignore her so she could spend some time with her. Maybe she could give her a makeover. Those clothes she was wearing we’re so last century. And her hair would look great if it was slightly curled. She’d ask Drusilla later if she could do her nails. Giles wished he’d brought a notebook. He was fascinated that Drusilla was being so gentle with her Childe. He had expected violence was required to bring forth Spikes demon. Simply fascinating.

Buffy was disturbed. Drusilla murdered children, she was unfaithful, and she was completely psycho. And she also loved. Buffy could tell this was not an act. The way Drusilla was holding Spike, singing, caressing, soothing. This kind of affection couldn’t be faked, she was positive. And if that was true, if an evil bloodsucking soulless fiend like Drusilla could love, then why didn’t Angel still love her without his soul? It also didn’t help her that this was kind of arousing, in a really freaky, never to be thought of again kind of way. Spike being cradled close to Drusilla evoked emotions that Buffy wasn’t prepared to deal with. She knew that Angel had loved her, but she couldn’t remember an intimacy this…umm… intimate between them. She would be lying to herself if she wasn’t just a little jealous. She wished that she was able to hold someone like that, or be held for that matter. ‘Stupid vampires’

Everyone took an indrawn breath and held it as Spike morphed into his demon. The ridges of his forehead breaking open the crusty scabs that covered him. Drusilla grabbed his head and held it to her neck as his fangs slid into her and he began to draw forth the rich liquid she held in her veins. “That’s it my William, feed. Feed for Mummy.” Five pairs of eyes watched as Spike mewled and groaned drinking deeply from Drusilla.


No one spoke feeling somehow humbled by witnessing this feral act. Two otherworldly creatures, wrapped in an embrace that bespoke of dark power and sensuality. It was a scene they would all witness many more times in the coming days. Spike would grow stronger, his body healing rapidly with the infusion of his Sires blood. His skin would grow healthy and pale, his bones re-knit, even his hair would return. Soon he would look almost completely normal. His scars receding along with the pain. Drusilla bathed him regularly. She would keep his eyes bound however, their condition a mystery, but Drusilla assured them they would be fine. However Spike still refused to wake on his own. He would feed, and occasionally twitch, but he never stirred to full wakefulness no matter what Drusilla tried.

Drusilla knew what it would take to rouse him from the world his mind had receded to. Oh yes she did. But he would hate her for it. Soon she would have to let the sunshine in. But not yet. Let him rest. She would lie to him later. He wouldn’t be happy when he awoke. Oh no, he wouldn’t. His anger and loss and frustration would make him miserable and bitter. He deserved to be happy in this new life with his sunshine, even though he would fight against it with everything he had. She’d have to lay the groundwork for him as she always did. Smiling Drusilla arose and headed downstairs to have tea with Joyce. Joyce was the key. She would help make the sunshine understand.

Eventually.

Chapter 9

It would be two weeks before Spike finally awoke and became aware of his surroundings. Two weeks of Drusilla feeding and caring for Spike. Two weeks of Drusilla becoming part of the Summers women lives. It was driving Buffy up the wall. She didn’t like sleeping in Dawns room; the girl snored and hogged all the blankets. It took Joyce four days alone to convince Buffy to get out of the house and go patrol, or shop or do something besides glare at Drusilla. Buffy tried valiantly to convince her poor misguided Mother that she didn’t dare leave them alone with that insane slut. Joyce countered her arguments until finally pulling her trump card telling her daughter that when she paid the bills, she could make the rules. Buffy stormed out in a huff. It pretty much went downhill from there.

Day six found Buffy staring in abject horror at the sight before her when returning from an early patrol. Her dear baby sister sat on the couch with Drusilla sitting oh so very primly in front of her, while the brat was braiding her hair. BRAIDING HER HAIR! The two brunette’s, one definitely insane and the other obviously well on her way to getting there, we’re surrounded by the carcasses of several boxes of chocolates, chatting gaily as they as they watched “Beauty and the Beast”. Drusilla telling Dawn in no uncertain terms to try to ever make her teacups dance. They we’re naughty and didn’t mind. Forever after Buffy adamantly refused to watch any animated Disney film. The trauma was just too great.

Day eight was much worse. Buffy flew down the stairs enraged, leaping across the kitchen island towards Drusilla all the while clutching a green mass in her hand and screaming bloody murder. Joyce was shocked to see Buffy so angry while Drusilla was merely confused. She easily dodged out of Buffy’s way, however if Joyce hadn’t stood between the two of them she was sure the Slayer would have killed her. Very little in Drusilla’s hundred and fifty years had ever frightened her, but she was more than a little scared of the tiny blonde screaming like a banshee at this moment.

“She tore out his eyes!” You skanky bitch! “I’ll shove a tree truck through your big lousy chest!”

“Buffy calm down what happened?” Joyce was concerned, she was used to Buffy’s emotional outbursts, but this was extreme even for her. Buffy immediately started crying; huge sobs wracking her small frame, as she held forth the green bundle in her tiny hands. Mr. Gordo stared back at Joyce with sightless eyes, his two buttons ripped from the sockets with only stuffing remaining.

Drusilla’s lip began to tremble as she looked at Joyce, eyes filling with tears. “I had to Joyce he was mocking William. Always staring, making him feel weak, he had to be punished. My Spike can’t fight back right now, so I had to do it.” Drusilla started wailing herself. This was the sight that greeted Giles as he stepped in through the back door; his Slayer and an insane vampiress crying and sobbing hysterically with a flustered Joyce in the middle.

“Oh Dear Lord”. He promptly turned on his heel and ran back to his car. ‘Please let there be more Scotch back at my flat.’ 

Drusilla and Buffy eventually came to an understanding, they would simply ignore the others existence and everything would be fine. That lasted two days. It was Buffy who officially broke the tentative truce, but truth be told Drusilla instigated a great deal of the future drama. She may be playing nice, but she was still evil. Plus the naughty Slayer had it coming. It started out innocently enough, an awkward moment that could have been quickly forgotten, well not so quickly or ever really. It could have been minimized though. But it wasn’t.

Buffy was present for most of Spikes feedings. She felt a slight responsibility to make sure he got well so she could find out what happened to him before she beat him to a pulp for inflicting the horror that was Drusilla into her life. She wasn’t present however when Drusilla cleaned his wounds and bathed him. Except once; by accident. Normally Drusilla would close the door to Buffy’s room before cleaning Spike; Buffy’s room that now hosted half the Scourge of Europe, since Drusilla insisted on sleeping there with Spike. Buffy needed some papers from her desk. The admissions department at UC Sunnydale had called and asked her to stop by with her housing forms. School was starting in less than two months and Buffy needed to get them in. As Buffy sauntered in expecting to find a comatose Spike and a sleeping Drusilla, she was completely unprepared, on oh so many levels, for what was now burned indelibly into her brain.

Spike lay upon her bed, sheet removed, pale skin glistening from the light sheen of water left as Drusilla gently scrubbed him with a sponge. His burns we’re mostly healed. The skin smooth and taught once more. His chest bore a few tiny scars that we’re beginning to fade. His scalp was covered in a new growth of stubbly brown that looked like it may curl as it continued to grow. His stomach, tight and smooth, was virtually unblemished and sported rock hard…Hard…OH MY GOD! Spike was hard. Buffy’s face began to flame as she noticed how hard Spike was. Very hard and big. Very big and hard, OH MY GOD! Whipping around covering her eyes, Buffy yelled at Drusilla, “What are you doing!”

Puzzled Drusilla glanced up from her chore to see Buffy’s back to her. She hadn’t noticed her come in, instead daydreaming while bathing her boy. Drusilla could hear Buffy’s heart rate had increased and could smell…glancing down at Spike she began to smile. Then the smile grew wicked. ‘Naughty Slayer got a look at my Spikes bits and bobbles’ Drusilla knew that Buffy would become much more intimate with them in the far distant future. She was also fairly certain that except for Angel, the wicked little sunshine at this point was likely not to have very much experience with loves more interesting expressions. ‘Well we can certainly have a bit of fun with that’ thought Drusilla. Standing Drusilla covered Spike once more with the sheet and stepped in front of the Slayer, who blushing, refused to look at her, and proceeded to tell her exactly what happened.

“He gets like that all hard and firm when he’s bathed. Even when asleep Spike likes it when you go gentle. He also likes it when you’re rough. He especially likes it when he wakes up and he’s all hard and you ‘ave him in your mouth and then suck him all the way down while squeezing….” Buffy fled ears burning and face flaming. But Drusilla didn’t stop. At every moment she could corner Buffy alone, she proceeded to tell Buffy exactly what Spike liked and why and where he had first experienced it. She drew pictures and left them in Buffy’s weapon bag along with notes. Buffy hated her; she really, really, really hated her. But to her everlasting shame she kept the pictures and notes. She couldn’t even spell some of the things they described. Willow asked her to make copies. She hated Willow too.

For Drusilla the time past to quickly. With the exception of Darla, Drusilla had never really had any female friends, at least not since she was reborn. Oh there were minions who would occasionally help her dress or do her hair, but no one to really talk to. Even Darla didn’t really talk, she was a more pillage and kill kind of lady. But Drusilla was different. She would often spend an evening gazing up at the stars and while William was always pleasant company it would have been nice to have a girlfriend to share things with. Drusilla found her time with Joyce and Dawn and Willow to be extremely pleasant. They talked to her and listened and we’re ever so kind. She especially liked talking-to Joyce.

Making sure to be careful about how much to reveal of Spikes secrets, they were his to tell, not hers, she regaled Joyce of tales of William and Spike. Joyce wasn’t even shocked to here that William had been a poet and what a great heart he had. She was surprised that he had graduated from Oxford in 1878. But as Drusilla continued on with her tales Joyce began to learn how very intelligent Spike was. Drusilla told her how often he read. That he would go to museums on cloudy days to see the art and history there. She told Joyce of Spikes battles against the two slayers he had faced and how proud he was to have faced them in one on one combat rather than cheating like that awful Lothos.  As Drusilla spent her short few days she made sure that Joyce understood Spike, really understood him. Her support of him would be necessary. He would need a friend who believed in him. Joyce would do nicely. She had a good heart. She did however make Joyce promise to keep it all in confidence. She knew Spike wouldn’t mind Joyce knowing most of his history, but she must keep it to herself. Giles and those nasty Watchers would use it against him. Joyce assured her she would.

Drusilla also spent time with Dawn. She found the girl deliriously entertaining. Often the two would stay up late into the night discussing everything from how icky boys could be to what kind of blush would look good with their pale skin. Drusilla found the little sister she never had in Dawn and treasured her company. Even Willow warmed up to Drusilla. The inquisitive redhead had so many questions about the places she had traveled and the history she had witnessed. Somewhere along the way, Drusilla grew to love these people who had treated her so well. While she was still evil, very much so indeed, she knew in the secret places of her heart that had been untouched by Angelus’s cruelty that she would be saddened if these women we’re gone from her. She decided then and firmly that she would never kill Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Joyce. They were her friends and deserved to live. She’d eat Giles though if given the chance, he looked nummy.

It was in this way that Drusilla unofficially was adopted by the Summers clan. When Drusilla dropped by on her infrequent visits over the years, they made sure to all gather with the dark princess and share their feminine tales of love and life with her, and she with them over a cup of tea. Buffy never forgave Spike for it. Ever. Even years later when Drusilla arrived at their first child’s christening, and begged to allow Miss Edith to bless their little bundle of joy and Buffy and Drusilla hugged crying and sobbing telling each other how happy they were, she still didn’t forgive him. Well she did a little, but not much.


Two weeks passed and Drusilla couldn’t avoid it any longer. Spike had recovered enough. It was time to awaken and face the world as it was now. She headed up the stairs one final time.


Chapter 10

Drusilla sat upon the edge of Buffy’s bed looking deeply at Spike going over in her head the best way to approach what was going to be a traumatic experience for Spike whichever path she chose. She could try to be delicate or forceful, either way Spike would wake. How much emotional pain she would leave him in was the real question. It was a problem she had mulled over for days. As she pondered her options one last time she was interrupted by a throat clearing in the doorway. Looking over her shoulder she smiled thinly at the sight of Buffy with her arms crossed staring at her.

“How much longer are you going to keep feeding him Dru?” He looks his normal annoying self, except for the hair.” Buffy’s nerves were an edge. She wanted him awake and talking so she could kick his ass.


“No more treats for William.” He is fixed all better. No more crackles and pops in his poor head, saying bad dog, be good. No more rumbly spark. It burns quietly now, not like Daddy. Good dog. There are burning fishes swimming around in his poor head. Stay sleepy, don’t go out there. Don’t hurt the girl. Mummy can wait no longer. She must let the sunshine lie to him. Make him come to her. Mummy has to hurt him oh so dreadfully. But he will be better with the real sunshine. Make the not really real sunshine go away in his head and face the truth.

Buffy tried not to growl, but after two weeks she still couldn’t understand more than a handful of the gibberish that Drusilla spouted. “So that’s a no then on the feeding I take it”

Drusilla reached behind Spikes head and gently began unwinding the bandages that covered his eyes. Once they were removed and discarded, she propped him up straighter in bed. Standing and turning towards Buffy she said, “Mummy is going to wake William now. You have to leave. You mustn’t see this.”

“As if. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a few things to say the undead bane of my existence. Wake his ass up.” Buffy refused to move, she hadn’t endured these last two weeks of misery to be taken out of the game on account of lunacy. If Spike was coming back to the land of the living, she was damned sure going to be there to see it.

“No, you will not see him, you will not be here. Mummy has to hurt him You can’t watch. He’s still very cross with you anyway for riding on the big pony. Mummy rode the pony too, so she understands. Daddy and William we’re cross at her then too. No little sunshine, you have to go. You have to leave him be for a time. He will be sixes and sevens again, but you have to leave. Now”

‘Pony’ Buffy had never ridden a pony. She had a slight fear of horses to begin with. Geez Drusilla was absolutely loony tunes. But she understood the gist of what she was saying. While not happy about it, she reluctantly acquiesced to Dru’s demand that she be allowed to do this alone. “Fine, you want to smack him around and wake him up, be my guest. I’m going to call Giles and Will and let them know. Have fun.” Turning towards the door she was halted by Drusilla’s hand on her arm. “Wait”

Buffy turned back confronted with Drusilla staring at her, her head cocked with a look of curiosity and profound awareness. Finally Dru spoke. “You have been given a rare gift Buffy. Don’t squander it away like the then time. You don’t know what you are. What you are to become. You are filled with love. Don’t hide it away this time. Love him, as he loves you, recklessly, fully, selflessly. Cherish your gift, for it will set your heart free.”

Buffy was moved by Drusilla’s words. She knew that Dru was a seer and the tone and conviction with which she spoke sent a chill down the young Slayers spine. “What gift Drusilla, what is my gift?”

“Death was your gift. The price was paid. Now it’s time for you to go.” Drusilla turned back to Spike hearing the Slayer quietly close the door behind her. Once more she settled herself before Spike and using her thumbs opened the lids of his unfocused eyes. Staring deeply into their cerulean depths she whispered. “Be in me.”, allowing herself to sink into his mind.

Spike stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the clouds above awash in vivid shades of orange and red as the setting sun inflamed them. He was momentarily startled as he felt a delicate hand slip into his own and stared down to meet a pair of brilliant green eyes gazing up at him. “Beautiful isn’t it. I wish we could share this kind of sunset all the time.”

“Buffy”, he breathed out. Her golden hair was ablaze, shining brightly as the still warm sun danced among her silken tresses. He pulled her close to him feeling her soft curves meld with his own hard planes. Perfectly joined he smiled contentedly as he felt the familiar peace and contentment that always washed over him when she was nestled in his arms.

Giggling, Buffy rubbed her cheek into his chest. “Come on silly, it’s getting late, we have to go home. Everyone will begin to worry about us. You know how they get. They’ll probably think you’re out here ravishing me.” Buffy began to run her hands along the angular planes of his back moving lower until she cupped his oh so firm rear lightly in her hands.

Laughing, Spike kissed the top of her head. “I will be ravishing you in a  ‘mo if you keep this up, I’m not made of bloody stone pet.”

“Could have fooled me, teased Buffy. Come on Big Bad, it’s time to go home.”

Frowning grumpily, Spike resisted. “Why, it’s nice here isn’t it? Stay here with me.”

“Its wonderful here honey, I wish we could stay here forever. You know we can’t though, our life is out there. We need to get home.”

Drusilla had to be so very careful. This world Spike had created was fixed firmly in his mind. This was going to take time and patience. The scene shifted to a beautiful country cottage. As his fantasy continued to unfold, she found herself making love to him till dawn. They took long walks on the beach, picnicked in grassy meadows lush with wildflowers. The places and times changed, but the theme was consistent. Buffy loved him and him alone here with all her heart and they were always deliriously happy. She began to push harder. Weaving and manipulating his thoughts and perceptions, she made herself less perfect to him. She kept her love a little more distant from him. She made him work harder and harder a little at a time to keep his fantasy alive. She made him struggle to keep her there, made it more difficult to mesh his perception with reality. She forced him to retreat to more real, but less pleasant memories.

‘Marry me Buffy and make me the happiest man on earth’.’Oh Spike of course the answer is no, I could never be your girl, there’s nothing good on you.’

He became frustrated, angry, confused. Inside Drusilla wept for her lonely unloved lost poet, but she steeled herself for this task. Finally when all the pieces were in place, she struck hard. She forced Spike to retreat to one memory that was real. One memory that was untainted for him, one pure memory that could never be corrupted. She was about to destroy it. Then he would flee back to reality to escape this new greater pain. It was the most difficult thing she would ever do and the only act she ever felt truly guilty for.

They stood in a cavern, bits of rock and debris falling around them. The ground was shaking, bodies of monsters and young women scattered across the ground. And there was light, blinding light enveloping him. She stood next to him, her hand enclosed in his, fire dancing among their fingers.

“I love you”

“No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.”

Now. “Your right I don’t love you. You’re beneath me.”

Downstairs four women and a Watcher who had been waiting impatiently for hours, snapped their heads upwards towards Buffy’s room. Dawn cowered back into her chair. Joyce gasping covered her mouth with her fingertips as tears sprang to her eyes. Willow covered her ears, willing herself to fade away. Giles tried to remain stoic, observant and removed, he failed. Buffy felt…Buffy would never be able to articulate what she felt, it was too raw.

From above them came a keening soul wrenching cry of anguish so deeply visceral that it could not be measured. In its depths, for those who bore witness, was the sound of a being who had suffered a loss to great to be comprehended. The silence that followed only made it even more powerful.


Chapter 11

Spike clung to Drusilla completely unaware of her presence, shaking and silently sobbing uncontrollably. Drusilla made not a sound as she held him in her arms, silent tears gliding down her own face as she shared in his grief. After a time Spikes cries subsided, his body and mind drained both physically and emotionally. As reality began to slowly form around him, he began to take in the sounds and smells around him. They were fuzzy and jumbled, none of them making sense to his disoriented mind. With a growing realization, he pulled back from the arms that held him and looked up at Drusilla.

“Dru, he croaked. What happened? How did you get here? Is this real?” Spike looked around, his blurry eyesight taking in his surroundings. ‘I’m in Buffy’s room; I can smell her all around it, along with Dru.’ Closing his eyes he breathed in the scents permeating the air. ‘Strawberry and cinnamon, Red’, ‘Peach and bubblegum, ‘Bit’. Honey and cream, Joyce’ ‘Joyce?’ ‘Tweed and scotch, Watcher’ and overshadowing everything else, vanilla, spice and power. ‘Buffy.’ ‘This is wrong, this can’t be real, have I finally gone starkers like Dru?’ 

“Shhh Spike, you mustn’t fret so. The blue fairy brought you here. The nasty lizard burnt you up all crackly. She took you to the before time to be safe. She went back to sleep, no more darting to and fro. Mummy came to you and made you all better, made the boo boo’s go away. But now Mummy must go. The sunshine is here for you again.”

Spike pondered Drusilla’s words, automatically translating them into a semblance of sanity. ‘Blue must have done something, transported me somewhere, but here, how?’ ‘It doesn’t even exist any more’ ‘Why can I smell Joyce?’ ‘I was burned by the dragon’ ‘sunshine, bloody hell, Buffy’

“Dru, luv, how long was I hurt?’

“Mummy fed you like a good girl for a fortnight. Made all the sore bits go away. My William was being stubborn though, wouldn’t wake up; wanted to stay with the not real sunshine forever. Mummy had to be naughty my Spike, had to hurt you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Spike. Mummy didn’t want to.

‘Bloody hell, two weeks then.’ ‘Must have been pretty bad if Dru had to force feed me for that long.’ ‘She went into my bloody mind and poked around.’ ‘That explains the dreams and the nightmares.’ ‘Wait.’

“Did you kill them Dru, what did you do to them.” Fear seized Spike as he realized that Dru was in Buffy’s house, her very room. Dru could have easily thralled any of the Summers women and forced an invite. She would have no qualms about slaughtering them all.

Dru giggled, “Didn’t do anything to the lovely ladies, Miss Edith said I mustn’t. I’ve been on my best behavior. Spike, Drusilla shyly said, I like them all very much. Please don’t be cross. They have been ever so nice, and I think I love them like you did. They are my friends, and one mustn’t be naughty to ones friends.”

‘Miss Edith told her not to hurt the girl’s, that’s interesting.’ ‘She likes them, can’t rightly say as I blame her.’ ‘These chits lead a charmed life if they managed to sway Drusilla away from wanting to nosh on them.’ Spike was having trouble focusing. The physical and mental ravages he had undergone were playing havoc with his sanity. He needed to concentrate, but he was tired.

“Spike look at me.”

Spike looked at Drusilla trying to hold his attention on her words.

“I have to go now, my boy no longer needs his Mummy, do you understand? After Spike nodded acknowledging he was still with her, Drusilla continued. You have to be brave now, you have to fight your own battles for yourself and no other. Your spark will guide you as will the sunshine. Don’t be too angry. This is still the world you knew, but you have a chance to make it your own. Make it better, or worse. The blue fairy was trying to give you a gift. Use it wisely. I have to go. Be brave my knight, but be cautious.” Drusilla leaned forward placing a chaste kiss upon Spikes lips. She could already see that he was drifting back to sleep, but this was a sleep he would wake from normally. He needed to rest still. Rising from the bed, she picked up her packed bag and headed downstairs to say her goodbyes.


Giles was pacing across the living room furiously scrubbing his glasses as Drusilla made her down the stairs towards her expectant friends. As Joyce and Dawn arose and headed towards her, Willow in tow, they all began firing questions at her. Foremost on their minds was the nature of the sound that had so shaken them. Drusilla waited for a break to interject.

“William sleeps now, but he will awaken again soon on his own. His mind is open again, the little fishies all gone. Let him rest. Joyce you should go check on him and try to be there for him when he wakes up. Don’t be worried if he behaves strangely to you, he will have some difficulty coping with a great deal. It will take time for him to adjust. He trusts you Joyce; he’ll be comfortable with you and Dawn around him. Willow, dear, he likes you to, you don’t have to be afraid of him. Turning to Giles, she pointed her finger at him, you leave him alone, don’t be naughty. Keep your nasty little prods and pokes away. Shoo, shoo.

“What did you do to him? You said you we’re going to hurt him, but that, that was, what did you do?” Buffy had remained silent and unobtrusive as Drusilla gave her instructions. The fact that Dru was carrying her bag was not lost on Buffy. Drusilla was done and leaving, but after that scream, what kind of mess was she leaving them with.


Drusilla looked at Buffy. The truth hurt, Daddy always said so. She would tell her the truth, at least a version of it. “Mummy went inside his poor lost mind. Picked and poked found all the bits that made him want to stay there and not come here. Then Mummy pushed and pushed until she took him where she needed him to go.” Drusilla paused pulling together her words. “I took him to the one time and place that was pure to him; his most profound real memory. I took him to when the one girl who he loved with all his heart and bright soul, and who never loved him back finally told him she loved him when it was to late. I took him there and instead the girl told him she didn’t love him; that he was beneath her. I destroyed his memory, so that he would flee from the pain and come back. And he did. I had to be cruel to be kind.”

Buffy stared at Drusilla horrified. “How could you be that vicious, that cruel!?” That sound, that awful sound, you hurt him Drusilla. How could you tell him that you didn’t love him? How could you take that memory he had of you and turn it so cruel.

Drusilla smiled, “Ahhh, but it wasn’t me who did it dear child. It wasn’t me who broke his heart. I wore the face of another. What she did to him in reality was far crueler, that’s why it hurt so much. Don’t fret, my Spike will survive, he always has. But now I have to go. The stars are calling and the moon is ready to dance.”

Buffy said nothing lost in her own thoughts as her Mother and sister along with Willow made their goodbyes. The hugs and tears and thank you’s rang hollow to her. Finally Drusilla began her trek to the front door, snapping Buffy from her private reverie. ‘Drusilla, wait.” Buffy went to the cabinet and removed Miss Edith from the cubby she had stashed her in and walking to Drusilla handed it over. “You kept your word Drusilla, I’ll keep mine, here’s your doll back.” Smiling happily Drusilla clutched the doll to her bosom and thanked Buffy. “Yeah well, whatever, thanks for the nightmares, bye Dru.”

Drusilla looked around at her new found friends and focused once more on Buffy. Moving close to the Slayer she whispered, “Remember what I said, Buffy let yourself love him. You’ll set yourself free”

“I do love him Drusilla, with everything I have, but it isn’t enough, Angel didn’t love me, he still left”, replied Buffy bitterly. “You should know the feeling.”

Drusilla threw back her head laughing merrily. “Silly, silly girl, you were never meant for Daddy. No one is. Daddy can’t love you; he can’t love anyone, especially himself, with or without his spark. Dear little sunshine, your true love was made especially for you, made to be what you deserved. Laughing gaily Drusilla turned and headed out the door and into the night.

“Well who is he then?” Buffy softly asked herself.

A richly accented voice, tinted with power and madness drifted through the darkness, “It’s up to you to find him, sunshine; from now on it’s all up to you.” 

Chapter 12

Buffy halted her mother at the head of the stairs just as Joyce was about to enter Buffy’s room.

“What are you doing, Mom?” Buffy was irritable. She had slept poorly the night before. Spikes scream and Drusilla’s cryptic words before disappearing into the night, swirled around her mind never finding a purchase. She hated feeling so out of control. Buffy liked to fight her demons straightforwardly. A kick, a punch, a stake through the heart, and bingo; no more problems. Her patience was running thin. And now her mother was only twisting the knife in.

“Dru said to let Spike rest, dear. It’s morning now so I’m going to check on him.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re carrying a tray filled with pancakes, eggs, bacon sausage and toast. Is that cocoa? You’re giving him cocoa?” Buffy was aghast at the mounds of food piled high on the tray in Joyce’s hands. She could see a large mug to one side, rightly assuming it to be filled with blood. The newspaper folded under Joyce’s left arm just completed this twisted little picture of domesticity. Mom was acting like Aunt Phyllis was visiting, rather than a bloodsucking Billy Idol wannabee.

“Really Buffy, Spike is probably quite hungry considering all he’s been through. A nice home cooked meal will be just the thing to put that bounce back in his step. Stop being so crabby and open the door for me.”

Grinding her teeth, Buffy attempted to calmly shed some much needed reality on her misguided mother. “Mom, Spike is a vampire; more specifically he is a Master Vampire. Master Vampires don’t eat people food; they eat the people that bring them the food. They don’t lie in bed and read the paper over cocoa and poached eggs. Please Mom, I’m begging you, let me go in there and deal with him. After I slap him around a little, he’ll tell us what we need to know and then we can boot his obnoxious, arrogant undead ass out of here.”

“Language Buffy!” Joyce loved her daughter, but she was amazed at how insensitive and stubborn she could be about some things.. “Buffy listen to me. I spent a great deal of time speaking to Drusilla about William. If you would have made even the slightest effort to spend some time with Dru, you would realize that Spike happens to enjoy “people food.” It was more than a little rude of you. I saw Drusilla reaching out to you dozens of times over the last few days to speak with you alone, only to watch you run away and ignore her.” Joyce never noticed Buffy’s eyes widen and her face blush a deep crimson. “I’ve had about enough of your attitude missy.” “You will open this door now. You will stay away from Spike until I give you permission to see him. You will NOT hit him. You will NOT yell at him. You will act like the young lady I raised and be courteous to our sick guest. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Buffy stared at her mother in shock, her jaw dropping open. Mom hadn’t spoken to her like that in a very long time. Buffy felt like she was eight years old again. Snapping her mouth closed, she looked at her mother stubbornly replying, “Fine” Reaching over she turned the doorknob and flung the door open. With a scowl on her face she stormed downstairs to the kitchen. Mom better have made plenty of extra breakfast. If Spike ate one mouthful of those pancakes with that chocolate chip face cooked into them, and all Buffy had was old cereal, she’d stake his worthless ass no matter what her Mother did to her. Shuddering Buffy realized that her Mom had even gone to the trouble of adding pointy fangs to the mouth. ‘I hate my life.’

Spike came awake slowly, his nostrils filling with the rich smells of warm food. He could hear birds, voices, and the distant thrum of heartbeats. He felt a weight shift next to him and opened his sleepy eyes, turning towards it.

“Good morning dear, how do you feel?” Joyce placed her hand on his forehead in an age old attempt to ascertain the wellness of an individual. An attempt not really applicable to Spike, but her warm, gentle hand against his cool skin, was a balm to his fevered nerves.

“Joyce, luv,” rasped Spike, his voice weak and soft from being unused. “Is it really you?” Spike was having a hard time accepting that Joyce was alive again. The events of the last few years caught up with him. This Joyce was bright and energetic, not tired from sickness. Spike had missed Joyce’s presence acutely, something he had never admitted to anyone. Joyce, and later Dawn, had been the only true friends he’d ever had. The only person who would have understood his feelings was ‘Bit, but the both of them were too distraught from Buffy’s death so close on the heels of her mother. They avoided discussing Joyce. There was only so much pain they both could bear. Spike cried softly, tears of joy springing forth as he reached out to her, He had to make sure she was real.

Joyce was momentarily stunned and a bit nervous when Spike lurched forward from his prone position, his arms encircling her, hugging her weakly to him. Smiling Joyce wrapped her arms around him. “There, there, what’s this all about, hmmm.?”  Joyce relaxed and held him close. After her long talks with Drusilla, Joyce realized that Spike for all his bravado was a very emotional man. She smiled inwardly allowing herself to comfort her errant guest.

Spike pulled back after a moment, trying to wipe his eyes without Joyce seeing. “Sorry Joyce, didn’t mean to act like a bloody poofter there, just not ‘zactly myself at the moment.”

Laughing Joyce shrugged. “Well that’s to be expected I suppose,” “You certainly look like yourself again. “It’s’ nice to see you up and about.” Reaching over Joyce pulled the tray she had prepared over, and placed it on the bed in front of him. “You’ve been asleep for three weeks, you must be famished, here eat up.” You need to get your strength back. I’ll leave you alone now to eat in peace, try not to fuss about anything. Rupert and Buffy are anxious to see you, they have a great many questions for you but that can wait for a bit. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. “Dawns just down the hall and will come get me for you. Just hit the intercom on the phone there and ask for her.”

“I am feeling a bit peckish, thanks ever so Joyce for fixing me a plate, ‘preciate it.” Spike began to pick at the food as Joyce headed to the door. Turning she looked back and sincerely said, “Welcome back Spike, I’m glad your feeling better.”, as she closed the behind her.

Spike poured his blood over the pancakes and eggs, and began to plan his next move while wolfing down the food Joyce had so generously made for him. ‘Can’t do or say anything till I figure out what the hell Blue did’ ‘I’m certainly not going to tell Giles anything.’ Spike had somewhat forgiven Buffy’s Watcher for conspiring to have him killed with Principal Wood. He barely forgave him for joining with the others against Buffy in the final days against the First. But Spike steadfastly refused to forgive him when he had withheld his knowledge and expertise so desperately needed when trying to save Fred. ‘Bloody wanker can rot, not telling that soddin’ bastard anything.’ Buffy though was the real problem. Whoever this Buffy was, Spike was positive she wouldn’t be his Buffy. And try though he did, he couldn’t reconcile himself that she had ended up in bed with the Immortal. He knew it was his fault for not seeking her out. He knew it wasn’t his place to judge who she gave her affection to. But Spike was a man in love with a woman. Rationality didn’t apply. “Bitch.’ He needed real answers and was plagued by where to get them.

He paused, extending his senses, and took a deep breath. Inhaling through his nose he tried to get a read on where or more importantly when he was. He knew about Joyce, Dawn, Buffy, Red and the Watcher. Ignoring them, he tried to pick up traces of the Whelp or Demon-Girl. He was surprised not to sense the boy. If Spike really had been here for three weeks, he should have smelled him everywhere. He was always sniffing around his girls trying to play the part. He was sure he would have been screaming at them to let him stake Spike. Nothing. Wolfboy’s scent was faint but he’d only met him once or twice, didn’t know where he fit in. Glinda was a no show either. Couldn’t smell Cardboard either, that was a blessing. He despised Captain America.

Absentmindedly he reached over and picked up the folded paper Joyce had left on the bed. Looking to distract himself from his thoughts, he glanced at one of the smaller articles, completely oblivious to the fact that many of the answers he might have sought could be found there.


“MILLHOUSE CONSTRUCTION BIDS ON PROJECT TO REPLACE SUNNYDALE HIGH SCHOOL” General Manager of Millhouse Construction, Edward Scranton met with members of the local school board and City Planning Office to go over its plan to re-build Sunnydale High School. Sunnydale High School was destroyed just two and a half months ago when a tragic gas explosion claimed the lives of several students and Mayor Richard Wilkins during the May 9th, 1999 graduation ceremonies. Mr. Scranton expressed his concerns about…..

‘Bloody hell’ Spike was thunderstruck. ‘Blue took me all the way back.’ His thoughts racing he began to process this new information. ‘The Gem of Amara. The chip, Adam, being engaged to Buffy, Riley, wait..’ Spike forced his thoughts to slow down. He needed to think. ‘I’ve never had the chip to these Scoobies.’ ‘No soul, no Adam, no Gem of Amara, no staying in the Whelps basement. He was never chained in a bloody bathtub drinking his brekky from a novelty mug. None of that has happened.’ Spike smiled wickedly. ‘They don’t know about the soul, they don’t know anything.’ ‘I’m still the Big Bad to them.’ ‘William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers.’ Oh yeah the Big Bad was back, no more mister nice vamp. Visions of smacking Xander upside the head pain free began to dance in mind. He practically glowed with the thought of taking Cardboard and beating him within an inch of his life. He still woke up with phantom aches at times from when he’d shoved that plastic stake in his chest. ‘Bloody tosser always thought he was better than me because of the chip. I’ll make him wet his trousers when he gets a good look at the real me.’ But as these delightful thoughts of vengeance set in, his soul began to rouse and confront the demon. Spike began to realize the reality of his circumstances, and his mood darkened considerably.


‘I can’t go through this again.’ I can maybe keep Joyce from dying, get her to hospital in time before she gets sick.’ ‘I can definitely deal with Glory making sure Buffy doesn’t have to jump.’ ‘But the rest, I can’t’ ‘I can’t watch ‘er end up with Cardboard.’ Can’t go through all this torment again.’ Spike’s mood became sourer. ‘She didn’t love me with the soul, she certainly didn’t without.’ He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t stand by and watch it all happen like a bloody re-run. Couldn’t stand the thought of being kicked and beaten by them all. Without a soul and only a chip as his muzzle he’d tried so earnestly to be helpful only to be rejected time and time again. The chip was all that allowed him to be tolerated, and only when they needed some muscle or information. He wouldn’t even have that this time around. The soul meant nothing to them when they had discovered it, even Buffy didn’t care about it. She’d left him in a church burned and broken, running away from him, refusing to acknowledge its significance. It was only when the First showed up that she had managed to dredge up some feeling for him. ‘Was she there with me that night?’ ‘I wonder, if she was ever there.’ Spike realized that what Illyria had given as a gift was a curse instead. He was doomed to re-live some of his greatest tragedies and triumphs, alone, unwanted. They’d never accept him, never trust him. ‘Oh yeah the Big Bad was back.’

As his thoughts darkened he became bitterer, more consumed with the futility of at all. Blue should have left him to die; at least he’d have gone fighting and wouldn’t have to die by a thousand pinpricks; one snide comment or jab at a time. He’d have to make plans if he was going to survive. He laughed bitterly. He couldn’t leave. He’d have to stay in order to protect them all; all of the ungrateful judgmental Scoobies who would hound, and torment him relentlessly. Buffy most of all. He would help Joyce though and willingly, he owed her that, she’d always treated him fair. Yes he’d stay, though he hated them all for it. He knew he wasn’t being fair. These Scobbies had never done anything to him. It was their future selves who had caused him so much pain. But he wasn’t ready to think about fair.

What was he to do about Buffy? One thing was certain, he was done with being loves bitch. This Buffy hated him and he hated her right back. Her bouncing shampoo commercial hair, her self-righteous blind morality. He was done. She would get nothing from him this time. Not a shred of respect or trust. He’d protect her. He’d save her from herself and others, but that was it. He was through worrying about her, begging for a crumb, being kicked in the head. ‘Oh yeah, the Big bad was back.’


He needed help figuring out what to do. If he changed the timeline what would happen. He needed answers and there was virtually no one he could trust. Pondering his dilemma, he made a decision. For good or ill, he’d have to trust that they knew their business. Reaching weakly for the intercom, he set about calling for Dawn.

Spike stopped, his finger poised above the intercom button. ‘Wait.’ ‘What the bloody hell is the Nibblet doing here?’ Finger shaking he depressed the button. Yes he needed answers, and he knew just who to get them from.

Chapter 13

Three months previously……

The wizened cleric opened his eyes and arose from his kneeling position before the simple alter. Making the sign of the cross as he straightened, he tightened his robes about him moving stately down the dimly candlelit aisle towards the rectory. His thoughts were troubled by his Communion with God, but the burden he carried felt lighter. There was hope now where little had existed before. He bore the title of Guardian. It was his visions and ability to read the signs that placed him in that position. It was the duty of all the brethren to guard the Key, but the responsibility for its care rested solely with him. The portents were always cloudy concerning their task, but lately they were becoming clear. The time was approaching when the Beast would strike, tearing apart everything in her path to retrieve what she required. But all was not lost. And now this. There was still time, and now hope. Stepping outside he headed down the worn stone path towards the living quarters of the monks who inhabited the isolated monastery located deep in the foothills of Spain. For a thousand years they had resided here, watching over the Key, guarding it, patiently waiting for when it would be passed down to it’s ultimate protector. Stepping inside the building he motioned to one of the younger brothers. “Gather the Order, bring them to the chapel, I must disclose our course of action.”

His order was obeyed without question. He was the Guardian, they would follow his instructions. He went to his private chamber and washed his hands and face. His preparations complete, he then made his way to the large chapel where his brothers awaited him. Placing himself in front of them, they all knelt on the floor as one. “Brother’s I bear glad tidings. The Key will most assuredly be in the right hands with the true Slayer. I have seen this night that now there is another who will guard it as well. A dark Champion is coming. He is returning and will gladly take up the task. He will do so for love; love of the Slayer and of the Key. Brothers rejoice! For this Champion bears the means to destroy the Beast for good!” The news shocked them all. It was understood by them all that there was nothing that could kill the Beast. Their threadbare hope being that the Slayer would hide the key and fend off the Beast long enough for the time of the ritual to pass, thereby trapping her here forever. These we’re glad tidings indeed.

A hand rose in supplication as a senior priest respectfully asked, “Do we continue then with our plan to place the Key in the Slayers hand?”

“We do indeed, replied the Guardian, but we will do so now” We will form the Key infusing her with breath and blood from the Protectors she is destined for. Her flesh and his, bound together. Bend the memory of those around her, giving her substance in their hearts and minds. We will not wait; we will send the Key to her Protectors now. “The Champion will know how to guard her.”

“Guardian are you sure this is wise, we had planned on delaying this action as long as possible?”

Smiling the elderly priest addressed them all. “Yes the time is right. All will be very well.”

The Order of Byrantius rose and then descended a narrow staircase spiraling deep underneath their mountain home. A lock was opened on a pair of weathered steel doors. Pushing them aside, the monks settled themselves in a circle, their eyes focused on the swirling green matter hovering in the air before them. They began to chant a spell that had been passed down in their Order for centuries, all for this moment. The mass of jade green began to take shape. Three days and nights passed as the monks chanted, undisturbed. When they finally stopped they had only moments to take in the still form of the pale skinned, dark haired Key before she vanished to her new home. As the exhausted monks began the slow trek up to their waiting beds, one of the more philosophical brothers wondered if her eyes would be blue or green. Would they match her mothers or her fathers, whoever that may be?

Chapter 14

Dawn jumped as the intercom on her phone buzzed and a tinny accented voice called out. “Oi’ ‘Bit turn down that bloody boy band crap and get your arse in here.” Dawn leapt from her bed squealing. ‘That jerk, that stupid, undead asshole.’ Dawn flung open her door and stomped down the hall to Buffy’s room and marched in eyes ablaze.

“First off, don’t ever, ever do that again. And don’t make fun of my music, mister stuck in the eighties.” Folding her arms across her chest she glared at Spike. “What do you want?”

“Nice to see you to Nibblet. Aren’t you going to ask me how I am, offer to fluff my pillow, maybe? I know, you could come sit by me and hold my hand and tell me how worried you were about me, yeah. Wait I’ve got it, why don’t you toddle over to the phone and ring up some of your school chums invite them over lunch, I’ll probably be hungry again by then.

Dawn sniffed at him haughtily. “What makes you think I care how your doing. You’re just as stupid looking now as when you we’re extra crispy. Love the hair by the way, skinhead much. And as if I’d hold your hand, probably give me eczema or something. Fluff your own pillow, you big baby, I’m not your maid. And no munching on my friends or I’ll tell Buffy. Unless it’s Susan Hiro, you can eat her if you want, she’s a tramp.”

‘That’s my ‘Bit, all fire and bubblegum.’ “No need to get shirty ‘Bit, just having a spot of fun, wanted a favor thought you might help a bloke out.”

Dawns eyes narrowed suspiciously, “What kind of favor.”

“Need to talk to Red, wanted you to ring her over.” If you’d rather not I could get up and find a phone book, Spike smirking inwardly, pretended to try to get out of bed allowing the sheet to slide down exposing his chest.

Dawns eyes grew enormously large as she lunged for the phone. “I’ll do it!” she squealed wildly. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, I almost saw Spike naked, oh God.”

Spike fell back dramatically into bed. ‘I still got it.’ This was definitely his Dawn, the younger version, before the “I’ll burn you in your sleep” scary one. And bonus, she was still sweet for the Big Bad.

Blushing furiously while trying to remain graceful and poised, Dawn said shakily, “Umm, Spike who is Red?”

“Willow, ‘Bit, like to talk to Willow, see if she’ll come over.”

“Yeah, umm ok, sure, Willow.” Dawn was fairly sure her heart was going to explode. And there were all those funny squirming feelings in her tummy again. Spike was such a jerk, but so cool. Dawn pressed the speed dial on Buffy’s phone. When Willow picked up, Dawn asked her to come over. She informed Willow that Spike was awake and being a jerk and wanted to see her. She felt a tugging on the sleeve of her shirt. Placing her hand over the receiver she whispered out, “What?”

“Ask her if she can bring over a bottle of Coke, tell her I left mine back at the factory.”

“Willow Spike wants to know if you can bring over a bottle of Coke, he left his at the factory.”

Spike heard the squeak on the other end of the line as Willow told Dawn stuttering, that “no she would not bring any Coke”. “There would be no having of any Coke.” ‘Ahhh, memories.’

“She said she’d be over later, I can get you a Coke if you’re thirsty.”

“I’m fine Pint Size, was just teasing Red a bit. Pull up a chair and we’ll chat. Heard tell Dru got on well with you lot, so what did you think of my dark princess.” Spike leaned back as Dawn filled him in on the goings of the last two weeks. She skipped around from story to story, chatting happily away about how much fun Dru was, and how they did each others hair, and watched movies. Spike listened preoccupied as she rattled on and on until he heard the sound of the front door open to admit the flustered witch.

“Sounds like you and Dru got on smashingly, ‘Bit.” I’m glad you we’re her friend, means a lot to me, and her to. “Thanks”

Dawn got up to leave as she heard Willow enter the room. “No biggie Spike, I’ll see ya later blood breath.”

Willow stood just inside the room nervously shifting her feet. Spike smiled. She looked absolutely adorable in her maroon overalls and colorful sweater. It was hard to imagine this shy, awkward girl would soon hold so much magical power in her brilliant mind. “Morning Red, don’t you look fetching.”

“Ahh…umm..good morning Spike you look…umm..not barbequed anymore.” Willow was extremely nervous. Spike was a lot less scary when he was unconscious. Even lying in bed obviously still very weak, he still projected that predatory aura that made her heart speed up. Dawn said he’d wanted to talk to her specifically, and that scared the pee right out of her. “Dawnie said you wanted to see me, but ahh, maybe you should talk to Giles or Buffy, have them help you or something. I’m not really all that helpful. Pretty selfish actually, extremely inconsiderate. I’ll just go get Giles.”

“Red wait, stay.” ‘M not gonna hurt you pet, need a couple favors. Right easy enough for a smart bird like you. Not asking for anything untoward, just need you to locate a couple people. Bring them here so I can talk to them; figure out what’s going on, “OK?”

“Ok that sounds easy enough, I can do that, sure, I’m your gal, just call me “missing persons” Willow.” She tried hard not to babble, but weird, Spike asking for a favor and him sober and not a broken bottle in sight. Very uncharacteristic behavior for him.

“Red, breathe.”

Willow took deep breathes, calming herself down. “Sorry, little panicky there, ok shoot, who do you want me to find?”

“Thanks Red, ‘preciate it.” Need you to get a hold of Demon-Girl and Watcher junior. “Got talk to then about what happened, see if I can suss everything out.”


“I don’t know who Demon-Girl is but Giles is downstairs I can get him for you.”

Spike looked at Willow his gaze becoming hard. “Rupert can kiss by bloody arse.” I’ll go sunbathing before I spill a word to that wanker. I don’t trust him or respect him. I need a Watcher who is reliable and loyal. Need you to find Wesley. Think he’s in LA. You might want to try Peaches, he may be able to help track him down. That’s what he does now you know; help the hopeless and all that rot. But Willow, you keep the poofter out of this; it’s none of his concern. If Angel asks why, tell him you need Junior to translate a scroll or something, whatever you tell him make it sound like its nothing to serious. Got that right? Ok Anya, don’t know where she is right now, but I need to talk to her to. She may be her in Sunnydale, don’t rightly know. Can you do that?”

Willow shook her head confused. “You want Wesley; Buffy’s other Watcher, Wesley. He’s kind of a dork and really lame, you sure that’s who you mean?” “How do you even know him?” And who’s Anya? “I’m gonna need more than a first name here.”

Spike had to think fast. ‘Bloody hell, this is exactly the problem, I shouldn’t know Wes at all.’ “Big Bad here Red, killed two Slayers. I make it my business to know when the team owner fires the head coach.” “Anya is Anyanka, Vengeance Demon, heard that she went all human. Got herself stuck here in Sunnydale.”


“Ohhh, that Anya. Hey I just saw her a few days ago working at the used bookstore over on Clover. “Wow, I’m really good at this.”

“Knew you had the goods Red.” ‘Anya first then, hopefully she would know about all this dimension hopping, time travel balderdash and be able to help him sort it out so he didn’t destroy the universe by stepping on the wrong ant.’ “Feeling a bit knackered here, pet going to shut my eyes for a few, you’ll let me know when Anya gets here right. “Thanks Red”

“Oh sure Spike, you uhhh rest I’ll get right on this.” Willow was just about to leave when Spike opened one eye at her and said. “Hey Red, I haven’t been with a woman in so long….”

Willow took the stairs two at a time as she fled; face flaming, bumping into Buffy as she scurried to the front door. “Will’s, hey you O.K.”

“Oh yeah sure I’m fine Buffy, happy bouncy Willow.”

“Right that’s why you’re fleeing from my room as fast as you can.” “You were obviously talking to Spike, what did he say, more importantly what did he do to you.” Buffy’s voice was hard and suspicious. She was confident that Spike wouldn’t do anything stupid like to try to eat Willow. In his still weakened condition he was vulnerable. Spike was a survivor, kind of like a rat, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his safety. At least until he could get away with it.  Looking at Willows expression though Buffy was positive that Spike had done something to scare her. ‘Bastard’

“It’s ok Buffy, really”. Spike was just being, you know, his normal scary evil self, he didn’t really do anything. He, uh, wants me to find some people for him. He said he needed to figure out what happened to him and they would be able to help him find the answers. “So I’m going to go track them down, so you know, bye.”

“Willow, whom did Spike wish you to find.” Giles voice drew the girls’ attention to the Watcher who stood nearby having listened to Buffy’s confrontation with her friend.

“Uhh, well he umm, wanted me to find Anya, you know Anyanka, who was a Vengeance demon and now is kind of not.” You remember, Giles, she made Vamp Willow appear, the one with the grabby hands. That Anya. “And hey I even know where she is!”

“Anyanka?” “Why would Spike need the services of a Vengeance Demon, especially one who specialized in wishes involving scorned women?” “Who else does he wish you find?” asked Giles.

“Well, he said he wanted to talk to umm, Wesley.”

“Wesley!?”  Giles and Buffy both exclaimed, shocked at what Willow had disclosed.

“Giles, umm, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all.” In fact he’s really mad at you it seems, so he umm said he could only trust Wesley. “He told me to track him down, said he thinks he’s in LA. “I told him I would.”

“”I’m afraid that what Spike wants is not really my concern, Willow.” Go and gather up Anya, she may have some insight into all this and I don’t see any harm in having Spike talk to her, now that she is bereft from any of her demonic powers. “Buffy go with Willow, I think it’s time for William the Bloody and I to come to an understanding.”

Anya hated retail. Customers coming to her with all their inane questions. “Was this book good?.” “Can you recommend a good self-help book?” It was driving her insane. She was fortunate that Hallie had helped her out by lending her some money so she could get a small apartment. At least she had a place to live. Food and the other necessities of her new found humanity required cold hard cash, and so she was reduced to working at this crummy used book store. Looking up from the latest book she was reading, ‘Capitalism for Dummies’, when the bell over the door opened, she was annoyed to see the Slayer and that friend of Xanders, Willow walk in.

“Welcome to ‘New Again Books’, how may I service you?”
“Hi Anya, remember me, Willow, and this is Buffy, you remember Buffy right.”

“”Of course I remember you both, I just saw you a few months ago, what are you doing here?”

”Well it’s kind of a long story, we sort of wanted you to come over to Buffy’s later.” “There’s someone there that said he needed to talk to you.”

“Who?”

“A vampire named Spike,” replied Buffy. “Spike wants to see you apparently and get your advice or something.”

“Spike!”  William the Bloody want s to see me. “That’s amazing, I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

“You know him,” said Willow.

“Well I’ve never met him of course, but he’s a legend in the demon world.” I was in New York back in the seventies when he killed his second Slayer. The feminist movement was in full swing and I was busy enacting all kinds of vengeance for women. There was this one woman who was being sexually harassed by her boss; these were the days where that kind of thing was acceptable in the business world still, anyway I had her wish that his penis would feel like it was being sliced by razor blades every time he became aroused…”

“Stop!” Willow and Buffy were flabbergasted by how graphic Anya was being as she described the agony she had put the man through. “Anya, what about Spike, what do you mean a legend.”

“Oh he is a legend Buffy.” Most Slayers die averting apocalypses, or are overwhelmed by a number of demons or vampires. Occasionally a vampire will be able to use a thrall to weaken a Slayer so she can be killed. But Spike killed two Slayers in single combat, that’s very rare. Slayers almost always have the upper hand physically against vampires or demons. So Spike killing not one but two Slayers, one on one, it’s very impressive. “I’ll be happy to stop by after work and see him; maybe he’ll give me his autograph.”

Buffy shook her head, ‘great Spike has a groupie.’ Writing down her address and handing it to Anya, Buffy and Willow exited the store to a cherry, “Thank you come again.” Walking back to Buffy’s house the girls spoke little, both wrapped in their own thoughts. Buffy was exceedingly uncomfortable with the thought that Spike was even more dangerous than she had believed. She knew from first hand experience that Spike was a really good fighter. She was confident in her own skills too. But a voice in the back of her head kept wondering, if Spike was that good, why hadn’t he ever managed to kill her?  Willow wondered whatever happened to that poophead who had sexually harassed his secretary.

Maybe Giles was having better luck

Chapter 15

Giles stood at the foot of the stairs, absently polishing his glasses as he pondered the best way to confront Spike. From what Willow said, it appeared that Spike would be resistant to sharing his recent experiences with him.  He knew threats would avail him little. Spike was a Master Vampire, he doubted a middle aged Watcher attempting to bully him would be very intimidating. He knew however that Spike was intelligent, and perhaps would respond if Giles were to approach him in a more academic manner. If he advanced general areas of conversation, he might be able to glean some clues from Spike’s responses. Resolving himself to be patient and even empathetic to Spike, Giles headed up the stairs towards the resting vampire. Grimacing he tried to ignore the fact that he was about to try and ingratiate himself upon a creature who had a compulsive desire to kill his Slayer.

“Wondered how long it was going to take before you showed up Watcher.” Spikes eyes were closed; he lay relaxed on Buffy’s bed, enjoying the warm late morning sunshine filtering in through the dark blanket covering the windows. Buffy’s smell hung faintly in the air and he breathed it in slowly, content to have its comforting aroma back around him. It had been so long. “Thought you were going to wear a hole in the carpet, what with all that pacing you were doing downstairs.”

Giles sighed, walking over to the chair at Buffy’s desk. Pulling it out, he moved it towards the bed and sat down. This was not going to be easy. Spike’s uncanny ability to read people was going to make it difficult to get anything by him. Giles decided to switch tactics. He’d just be honest with the vampire and would dissemble as little as possible.

“I see your apparently feeling better if you were able to sense my agitation from up here.” I’d like to speak with you Spike, and I hope you’ll be forthcoming. Your condition was grave when you arrived here three weeks ago. The nature of your injuries and the manner in which you were brought here raise serious questions. The fact that we allowed Drusilla into this home to care for you should speak to our sincerity in wishing for your return to a healthier state. I also am aware that you’ve asked to speak with a former Vengeance Demon and an incompetent ex-Watcher.  You and I need to address these issues. We may be able to help each other in the process. “The first thing I need to know is if whatever did this to you is still a threat to my Slayer.”

‘So the Watcher was going to try a rational approach. He’d expected threats from Rupert, the stick instead of the carrot. ’ Still thinks I’m the Big Bad and that pressure will get him no where.’ Spike knew that this Rupert was genuinely concerned for Buffy along with her family and friends. Deep down he knew that Giles was for the most part a good and caring man. He knew also that he would do what he must to insure that safety. In the aftermath of Buffy’s leap from the tower no one had bothered to consider how Ben had died. Spike however was intimate with death and knew what had occurred. Rupert was ruthless when he needed to be. The question was; would this Watcher attack or parry.  ‘Fine let’s play.’

“Don’t trust you Watcher, wish I did, would make things easier, but that’s the way it is.” Until I can suss some things out, I’m keeping mum to you lot. May have a heart to heart with Joyce though, she’s good people and I can trust her. You and Buffy, not about too. “Tell me Watcher, when you first saw me, all grisly and such, how long did you wait before you reached for a stake, ten seconds, twenty?”  As the last statement left his mouth, Spike opened his eyes staring full force at Giles. ‘Opening thrust, your move’

Giles chuckled. “I’d hardly expect for you to trust me Spike, I certainly don’t trust you.” Trust isn’t the issue here though. The safety of those around you is. Reluctantly we find ourselves in a position that we need to rely on each other. You needed and still need for that matter, us to care for you. We need you to tell us why so that we can prepare ourselves incase whatever caused this returns to do more harm. It isn’t necessary for us to trust each other necessarily. By helping us, you’ll be helping yourself. And to answer your question, it was a few moments after Joyce filled us in on the circumstances of your arrival and after I’d had my first look at you that I reached for my stake. Fortunately for you Joyce and Willow intervened. “Again, is whatever creature that did this to you still a threat.”

‘Parry.’ Spike knew he’d have to give Giles something. He contemplated sending him on a wild goose chase, thereby keeping him out of his hair while he took the necessary steps to fortify his new position for the tasks he had planned. He also knew that eventually he’d need the Watchers help when it came time to deal with the Initiative and Glory. Along with whatever else arose. He didn’t look forward to dealing with vengeful Indians and the Gentlemen completely alone. If he lied and manipulated him now, he may burn bridges he’d need later. It was giving him a headache. He didn’t trust Giles, but he may be able to mollify him with small snapshots of the truth.

“No, it’s dead, won’t be troubling me or anyone else again.” Spike would keep things simple, no details.


“Well that’s excellent news.” “Out of curiosity what type of demon was it; Drusilla mentioned a lizard of some sort.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s dead and there aren’t any more likely to come ‘round again.”

“I see, very well, who is Illyria.”

Spike glared at Giles malevolently. In a chilling tone he quietly said, “Blue ain’t your concern.” If you value your skin, don’t ever bring her up to me again Watcher. “Blue’s a dead subject between me and you.” ‘Giles blade drew blood.’

Giles was struck by the determination in Spikes voice. There was a history there between Spike and Illyria. He believed that Spike was sincere in his threat to kill him if he mentioned her again. Another piece of the puzzle was in place though. Spike knew her.

“Alright, does a place refereed to as the Well mean anything to you”. “Joyce mentioned it as she discussed with me the events of your arrival.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, and please don’t get angry, I’m merely relaying the facts as I know them. Apparently when Illyria left you with Joyce she said that she was returning to the Well to sleep, that her Wesley was gone…” “Wesley, her Wesley, she knows Wesley, that’s why you want to see him,” Giles said excitedly.

“Goddamn you Blue, just couldn’t keep your bloody trap shut.!” ‘Bollocks’ This was bad. He needed to talk to Wesley right now. Blue was between the two of them. It was personal. He didn’t want Giles involved at all, but Blue had taken that option from him. “Dammit, I knew he would poke and prod till he got answers, I was hoping that I would have more time.’ ‘Fucking Blue and her big mouth.’ Giles would never let it go now that he knew Illyria and Wesley had history. When Junior arrived, Giles would corner him and after learning that Wesley had never heard of Blue, he’d start putting the pieces together. Jumping to the wrong conclusions, assuming the worst, even though the truth was just as bad. The universe hated him. Grimacing Spike realized he was going to have to take a leap of faith. For good or ill, Giles was going to have hear the whole story if he was to move forward. Steeling himself he looked at Giles, “Close the door.”
“Spike, I realize that it is hard for you to accept, but I sincerely…”

“Shut up Rupert and close the door, you wanted the truth, you’re going to get it. You won’t be better for it I assure you.”

Standing Giles closed the bedroom door, isolating the two of them from the rest of the house, and returned to his seat, puzzled and excited that Spike was about to finally shed some light on the questions that had so stupefied him these last few weeks.

Sitting up Spike captured Giles eyes in his own. “I need something from you Rupert, before I say anything.” I need your word that what I’m about to tell you, stays with you. I want a blood oath from you. You must never discuss or reveal, in anyway, to anyone, our conversation, ever. Transforming into his demonic visage, Spike raised his hand and bit deeply into the flesh, leaving two bleeding puncture wounds. “You want answers, you’ll do this, it’s the only way I can trust you with the real truth.” “I can’t take just your word, your oath must be sealed in blood, this is too important.”

Giles considered what the vampire that stared back at him was suggesting. If he gave his oath, sealed in blood, between themselves, he would be bound by it. He could break his word certainly; there was no mystical compulsion that would force him to keep it if he didn’t wish to. But a blood oath was sacred in both the demon and human world. It was a bond not taken lightly. It conferred a special trust between the two. He would be bound to keep and bear Spikes secrets, by honor, virtue and loyalty alone. Giles was an honorable man. If this was what Spike needed, if this was necessary to bridge the gap, he would so. Unflinchingly he extended his own hand to Spike, grimacing in pain as Spike bit deeply into it.  Holding each others gaze, he watched as Spike shook off his demon. Clasping together their bleeding hands, Giles swore. “I will keep your confidences William till the end of my days, I so swear.”

“Right then, first thing you need to know about is my soul”

As the hours wore on, Giles sat, horrified and overwhelmed as Spike unraveled four years of history about to unfurl that he had been witness. He left nothing out, embellished nothing. Giles learned of the Initiative, the chip, Riley, Adam, Glory, Buffy’s death, Willows carelessness in bringing her back, her descent into darkness. Joyce’s death, Glinda’s death, the Buffybot. He learned of Buffy and Spikes affair, the attempted rape, the soul, the First, the Potentials, Anyas death, Xanders eye, Faith, Dracula, The Key, Angel, the Principal, Wolfram & Hart, Fred, Wesley, the Cheerleader, Illyria, his future self’s refusal to help, Spikes sacrifice to close the Hellmouth, Buffy and the Immortal, the dragon.

They we’re interrupted by Joyce at one point bringing them blood and tea. She left them alone worried about the grim expressions they both wore. Buffy came in to announce that Anya would be there after work, and asked why they both were so upset. Giles told her to leave. She asked why. Giles rose to his feet shaken with anger, pain and confusion, yelling at her, “Buffy get out!” Buffy left stunned, Giles her never spoken to her like that. She had never seen him this upset and was very frightened. Spike continued to talk.

When Anya arrived, both Spike and Giles filled her in, asking her opinions on dimensions, time travel, and the consequences of altering timelines. She was sworn to secrecy. Anya knew when to keep the important ones. They didn’t come more serious than this. She told them that Illyria had most likely transported to the same dimension. It was a feat that required tremendous power. There was only one demon she had ever heard of who could do it with ease named Sahjin.  She told then that any actions taken by Spike in this timeline would be permanent. Some things however where pre-ordained, the Powers would see that they would not be disrupted. She said she’d look into it more and get back to them. She didn’t ask for Spikes autograph.

Giles and Spike stayed up late into the night. Questions and answers, plans and hypothesis. Finally they both could take no more. Exhausted, physically and emotionally they didn’t even wish each other a good night. Giles nodded to Spike and made his way downstairs absently rubbing the sore punctures in his hand. They would leave a mark; Spike had made sure of that. A physical scar to remind Giles of his oath. It wasn’t nearly as painful as the new, raw scars on his soul. Buffy Willow and Joyce arose from the couch as he entered the living room, their looks concerned as they saw the exhaustion and pain in his face.

”Rupert are you alright?” asked Joyce as he walked up to him.

Rupert Giles, Watcher, surrogate father to Buffy Summers, drew Joyce into his arms and buried his face in her neck and began to sob. He wept for the loss of his innocence. He wept for a dead Joyce, a blonde white witch he had never met, a pretty Texan girl, a vivacious cheerleader, a brother Watcher who would become so much more than he now was. He wept for his daughter who died and was brought back only to sink into misery. He wept for them all, for everything. He wept for Spike.

Giles wept, for now he knew, the world would never be the same. A Vampire and a Watcher would make sure of it, for it was their burden to carry alone.

Chapter 16

Giles moved Spike to his apartment three days after their initial conversation. The two were closeted together most of the time anyway. When Giles was not there, busy helping Willow track down Wesley, Spike spent his time with Joyce. They talked about a great many things, Joyce revealing much of what Drusilla had told her about his past as both a man and a vampire. It was apparent to him that Joyce was genuinely concerned for him. Spike feel even more in love with the kind woman, promising himself that she would live to see her daughters grow up. Damn the Powers and anyone else who stood in his way. Anya also stopped a couple of times to speak with Spike.

She hadn’t had much luck tracking down any more definitive information regarding his circumstances. Giles, Anya and Spike agreed that for all intents and purposes, they were free to do what they wished with the knowledge Spike had of upcoming events. Their concern was what events were pre-ordained to occur. Anya, while not an expert, was certain that the Powers were capricious; it could be something as simple as losing a game of kitten poker to Buffy being forced to jump from the tower to save Dawn. It was these events that had Spike and Giles so off balanced.

Privately Spike began to lay the groundwork to begin his second life in Sunnydale. He’d need a large amount of dosh this time in order to accomplish some of his plans. He had a fairly good idea on where to get it, but he was going to need some help. Anya was a perfect choice. She knew the human world and the demon world. She could be his Renfield

“Demon-girl, got a proposition for you.”  “Going to need a few things, car, house, maybe set up a small business here in town, investments things like that. Think you might be able to help a bloke out.”

“Spike I do like you, but even if I had the means, I’m not going to be your sugar mamma. Although I’m sure the sex would be extremely satisfying”

Laughing Spike said, “Positive it would be to, pet.” S’not what I meant though. Plan on coming into a fair bit of dosh soon enough and need someone human to manage it for me. Thought you’d like the job, comes with a nice management fee. “The sex would be optional, “ Spike leered.

Scrunching her pretty face, “You mean you want me to take your money and use it to make more money?” “Do I get to manage it all by myself?”

“It’s all yours to do with what want, long as you take care of the things I need you to, don’t rightly care how you manage it.”

Anya threw her arms around Spike’s neck hugging him tightly. “Oh Spike thank you!” I won’t have to wait on ungrateful customers anymore, just to see all the money goes to someone else.” Anya was so happy at the thought of being free from the horrors of retail sales. “I’ll do it, when can I have the money.”

“Soon, pet.” “Got some things to do first, but you’ll be the first to know “

Buffy was the topic of Giles and Spikes more vehement conversations. To the residents of the house, they were marked by rising voices and ‘bloody hells’, ‘Cardboard’, ‘wanker’, ‘tosser’ and ‘pillock’, echoing downstairs from both Brits. Over the course of their talks, Giles began to understand, begrudgingly, the depth of Spike’s feeling for the tiny blonde. It was hard to ignore the sacrifice that he had made for her and the world. He also was not unmoved by the fact that a soulless demon had willingly gone to get a permanent soul in order to be a better man for her. He knew, definitively, that Spike was completely in love with Buffy. Fortunately it appeared that Spike was not happy about it though. Giles, his calculating mind in full gear, began to realize just how difficult this situation was for the vampire. He was stuck in a place where he was feared, loathed and bereft of the relationships that he had built so difficultly for four years. Any affection or even love that Spikes Buffy had for him was nonexistent, replaced instead by the young Slayers contempt and derision. Luckily they both agreed that Spike would do nothing to change his and Buffy’s current relationship.

The women of the house were curious what they were talking about, but both refused to discuss anything with them. A situation that was causing more than a little anxiety in Buffy and Willow. Willow was upset that Spike and now Giles were keeping secrets and not sharing. She was also hurt that Anya, an outsider, was part of the new boys club and not her. Buffy’s concern went along the same lines as Willow, but went even deeper. She had confronted Giles the day after his emotional display, asking to be included in what was going on. Giles, who was calmer now, gently told her that he couldn’t, he’d given his word. He explained to her that he and Spike had come to an understanding. He would be staying in Sunnydale indefinitely, consulting with Giles on some pressing matters. Giles told Buffy that Spike would not cause them or the residents of Sunnydale any harm as he was focused only on a few projects that didn’t relate to her. Buffy wanted to know what projects and why were he and Spike now being buddy, buddy.

“Is this a British thing.”


Giles laughed and said, “You could say that.” Giles pulled Buffy into his arms and hugged her. The reserved Watcher felt a deep seated need to hold his Slayer, the images of her death that Spike had shared wounding him tremendously. He told her that he loved her, making her cry and informed her that she was to stay away from Spike. He’d stay away from her as well. Spike had his reasons, and he assured her they were good ones.

“I don’t trust Spike, Giles.” “Something’s going on and your being avoidy, this isn’t good.”

“I know it’s not fair Buffy.” “I’m not asking you to trust Spike, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I don’t like it Giles, but I’ll trust you.” ‘For now.’

Buffy and Spikes new or old, relationship was about to get off to a rocky start. In the years to come, they would look back on it as a defining moment for them, but as it was then, Buffy struck the first blow. It was small and insignificant, barely a tap compared to the full fledged battles they would face each other in. But it was a blow nonetheless.

Spikes need to be active or his, ‘raging attention vampire idiot deficit disorder’, or AVIDD, as Dawn began to refer to as was making him jittery. His muscles though still weakened from disuse, were screaming at him to get out of bed and do something. He told Joyce that he appreciated all their help, but he needed to be up and about, rather than lying about like a Pyrennes slug demon. Giles had informed him that he and Willow had gotten a lead on Junior and if all worked well, they be able to get him here in a couple of days. Joyce laughingly told him to not be a big baby; he could get up whenever he wanted to. When Spike pointed out that he was perfectly willing to walk around the house starkers, he didn’t think it would be appropriate for Dawns innocent eyes. Blushing Joyce agreed, asking him not to run around her house naked, she’d go buy him some clothes. Spike thanked her, informing her that he would have asked to borrow some from Giles, but he was allergic to tweed. Joyce fondled his hair, and mockingly said, “That’s not what Drusilla said, William.” “She said you looked delightful in tweed while reading your poetry.”

“Drusilla’s insane, shouldn’t be listening to her ramblings Joyce, and you promised not to bring that up.”

“I know but it was a special occasion.” “I’ll be back later with some clothes.”

Buffy walked into the living room where her mother was standing, checking the contents of her purse, making sure her wallet and car keys were with her before she left for the mall.

“Hey Mom, whatcha doing?”

“Oh hi honey, I’m just going out shopping to buy some clothes for Spike.” The poor dear has nothing to wear. “Would you be an angel and start peeling some potatoes for dinner, I’ll be back later.”

Buffy thought wildly, ‘I hate cooking.’ Then a plan began to form in her devious mind. Frustrated at her lack of control since this whole Spike debacle began, she began to get an idea of how to pay him back for all the trouble he was causing her. “Wait Mom, I’ll go.” If Spike needs clothes, I’ll get them for him. You’ve been feeding him, Willows being research gal, Giles is…being Giles. I may not be able to do much, but I can shop better than anyone. “Please, let me help” ‘Yeah Mom let me help that undead asshole look like an idiot.’

“Well Buffy I’m surprised, that’s very considerate and helpful of you.” Alright, here’s my credit card, try to keep it under three hundred dollars. Just a couple pairs of pants, shirts, and some shoes, should do, ok. Handing over her credit card along with a scrap of paper with Spikes sizes she had written down, she hugged her daughter. “I’m so proud of you, you’re being very generous.” Buffy felt guilty, but quickly squashed it. This was going to be the most fun she’d had since her return to Sunnydale. ‘Let’s see how Mr. I’m the Big Bad dangerous creature of the night, black dressing, peroxide menace felt after I’m done with him.’ Buffy skipped out of the house humming as she prepared to go Slay the Gap.

Buffy returned a few hours later, several bags clutched in her hand. Inwardly she was grinning wickedly. Seeing Dawn sitting in the living room chatting with Willow, she asked her sister to take the bags up to Spike. Smelling dinner cooking in the kitchen she knew they would be eating soon and told her to tell Spike that he should dress and join them. Willow was suspicious. Buffy was being far too perky. Dawn happily agreed, racing up the stairs to give Spike his presents. Presently Giles arrived and the four of them waited in the living room, joined later by Joyce.

Spike stormed weakly down the stairs, clutching the railing, his face mottled in rage. Dawn had informed him when she had dropped off his clothes that Buffy had gone shopping for him. So far Spike had avoided speaking to Buffy at all. That was about to change. Four years of pent up frustration and now this. He had planned on being cordial to her, not confrontational. He would be distant, but polite. Not anymore. Buffy had drawn first blood, but he was his own man again. Time to Hunt. His appearance, and apparent anger, caused varying reactions in all the girls, and one Watcher to comment.

“Good Lord.”

Willow was stunned, Spike was pretty. She felt guilty thinking that, what with Oz and everything, but she wasn’t blind. Spike was really pretty.

Dawn started to giggle, ‘He looks like a dork, no wonder he’s pissed.’

Joyce took in his clothing, ‘The boy cleans up well, it should be illegal to be that handsome.’

Buffy was shocked and then really angry. She had gone to painstaking lengths to choose each item of apparel to provide maximum humiliation. ‘It’s the cheekbones, those and the eyes.’ ‘You can’t fight the eyes and cheekbones.’ Buffy hated herself for having to face facts, but reality was staring her in the face. Spike was a hottie, that’s just the way it was. Trying to change that had failed miserably. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was an evil, soulless vampire, and a prick, she’d be all over him. Who wouldn’t? He was yummy looking. The Dockers fit snuggly, the peach and cream colored button down shirt, untucked by the way, hanging loosely over his lean frame. The brown loafers he had on even looked good. The thickening brown hair on his head just beginning to curl. A little voice in her mind wondered if he was wearing the boxers with the kittens on them. God she hated him.

Spike ignored them all, all but Buffy, who he glared at with hatred. “You bloody bitch, this your idea of a joke!”

Buffy leaped to her feet, rushing towards him. Standing in front him seething and yelled, “What’s your problem, you needed clothes, I got you clothes, you ungrateful bastard.”
Joyce rose to her feet shocked at the language and tension filling the air. A hand on her arm stopped as Giles said quietly, “Stay out of it Joyce, they both need this right now.” Giles knew that if Spike and Buffy didn’t vent their anger, and frustration that had built over the last weeks, and in Spikes case years, they would come to physical blows. He wasn’t sure if that wouldn’t be the better course. With both Spike and Buffy, words could be used as weapons just as deadly as their fists or fangs.

“You dressed me like a soddin’ poofter.” Oi that’s it innit’ Peaches didn’t want to play bloody house with your skinny arse, so you thought you’d play dress up and use me as a bloody  Ken doll. “Well sod off Slayer, I’m nobody’s toy!”

Buffy was rocked back by his words, “You bastard!” You come into my town, my house, my life, and dare talk to me like that. I’ve had to put up with your skanky ass girlfriend, your disgusting crispy body sleeping in my bed, your avoidness! I hate you Spike! How dare you talk to me about Angel, he’s twice the man you’ll ever be! “And my ass isn’t skinny!”

“That’s right he is twice the man I am, the bloody fat wanker eats like a pig.” Always knew you liked your men tall dark, weak and stupid. “You didn’t buy these clothes to be nice, Slayer and you know it. You did it ‘cause you’re a vicious bitch.”

“And you’re a sick, cold blooded, murdering bastard!”

The vitriol poured out of their mouths, cutting, stinging and cruel. To Willow it was like they were physically battling. Almost like when Buffy and Spike were fighting for real. Instead of kicks there were curse words. Innuendo rather than jabs. It was horrifying to watch for its intensity was extreme.

Giles knew what this was really about. He’d come to understand after pondering all that Spike had told him, that for better or worse, deep down, Buffy was attracted to Spike and hated herself for it. She hated Spike for it as well. She would fight this attraction for years it would seem until she finally broke down, resulting in both of them practically destroying each other. He’d have to do what he could to minimize the damage their eventual union would bring to them both. He had no idea at this time though what possible course to take.

“Flat chested, skinny arsed cow!”

“Bleached brained asshole!”

“Enough!” Giles interjected, his voice cracking like a whip. Both Buffy and Spike ceased, and turned towards the sound of Giles voice; their chests heaving in anger and exertion. “That little display of childishness was entertaining certainly, but I think you Joyce an apology for your behavior.” Spike nodded his face grim, and walked over to stand before Joyce.

“I’m sorry Joyce that was uncalled for; I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”
   
“I’m sure you didn’t Spike, but please, l won’t have you using that kind of language around Dawn or myself.”

“Won’t happen again Joyce…sorry.”

‘Asshole.’ ‘Trying to be the good one.’ “I’m sorry Mom.”

“Well alright then, dinners ready, let’s go enjoy a nice meal.” Dinner progressed with idle chatter between, Giles, Dawn, Willow and Joyce. They all ignored the two sometimes blondes who sat glaring icily at each other.  

Spike moved over to Giles apartment quietly. He said his goodbyes to Dawn and Joyce, promising he would stop by when he could. Wesley arrived that night. He was a bit shocked that Giles greeted him warmly. He was used to a more condescending, arrogant Giles, rather than the gracious host who invited him in offering him a tumbler of Scotch. His reaction to William the Bloody sitting in one of Giles overstuffed chairs was one of shock and confusion. As Spike and Giles filled Wesley in over the next few days over what was set to transpire both here and LA, and his role in it, a strong friendship was formed between the three displaced Brits. Their bond was forged by the terrible weight they now bore. Together they would move ahead, battling the demons they could, steeling themselves for the losses that may come. Wesley would return to LA to be as Spike called it, “Angel’s minder, keep the bloody poof from mucking up things too badly.” It was agreed that the Darla and the sprog were likely one of those pre-ordained events they couldn’t stop. If Drusilla was involved in Darla’s re-birth as a vampire, it wouldn’t be done with out Miss Edith’s approval. If that was the case it must be one of the things the Powers had in store for them. They would be here for each other and keep in close contact. Looking back on it, these few days were some of the most rewarding for all of them.

School was starting in a month. Spike made plans, most of which he discussed with his two compatriots. If he was going to keep an eye on the Initiative, he’d have to stick close to Willow, Buffy and Riley. Spike would have to remain in the darkness, keeping to the shadows. But William would need to walk in the light. It was time to get his Ring.

Much to Buffy’s and Giles consternation just one week after moving in with Giles, he vanished.

Chapter 17

The weeks leading up to the first day of classes went by quickly. There was still no word from Spike, although Giles privately had a fairly good idea what he was up to. He was angry though that the vampire had decided to run off alone. He would have liked to refine their plans a bit more, but Spike was impulsive. He’d try to be patient, though it was difficult. He knew he’d turn up eventually. Buffy wondered often what the bleached idiot was up to. She was sure nefarious plans were in the works, destined to make her life hell. She wasn’t from the mark.

It took Spike three days to bore his way secretly into the cavern holding the treasure of Amara. After retrieving the ring he sought, he set about gathering up all the baubles lying about and crating them up. Contacting Anya, he helped her transport the crates to a storage facility, where she would begin the process of filtering the items through selected auction houses around the world. The money would be deposited into blind accounts she had arranged for and then would be combined into one large holding account. Anya was giddy with the prospect of controlling all that wonderful money.


Spikes next step was to make his way to Los Angeles. Wary of running into Angel, he began to arrange for a new iron clad identity. The fact that he could now move around during daylight hours was a gift he was to cherish. His time as a ghost at Wolfram and Hart had been well spent. Using the contacts he had made, or was informed of, he met with a human named Tyler who specialized in preparing documents and life histories for vampires that would pass the most stringent of screening. It was expensive though. He gave him the number to contact Anya to ship the documents and receive payment when they were complete.Meeting Anya at a diner outside of Sunnydale, he told her to expect the documents at any time and authorized her to pay Tyler for the work. “So, how did we do, Anya, make a few quid did we?”

“Spike it was wonderful!” “After the auction fees, bank transfer fees, and my administration fee, you’re still left with eight million American dollars!”

Spike spewed coffee at a furious Anya who was now dabbing her blouse, muttering that it better not stain. “What!” I thought we’d get a couple hundred thousand pounds, but that’s smashing. “How come it was so much?”

“Spike the gemstones and gold were valuable certainly, but it was the age and condition of the pieces themselves that made them so priceless.” “From what I understand, several museums and private collectors took up the majority of the items, paying top dollar to do so.”

“Bloody hell, how ‘bout that.” “Alright here’s what I need you to do….” Spike sat with Anya and outlined for her what he needed done next. Giving her a contact in LA who could outfit his home and the automobiles he required in Necroglass, he set about firing out requests, as Anya efficiently wrote them down. He may have the Gem of Amara now, but he hadn’t survived this long without being prepared for anything. He gave Anya specific details about the house and its furnishings. The cars and motorcycle were to be placed in the garage. He set about getting a cell phone and made sure Anya had one to so he could reach her. He gave her the name of a business that she was to buy in Sunnydale whenever it came on the market. She was to manage it for him. She readily agreed. He also gave her the names of several haberdashers in London and requested she procure the clothes he wanted and have them rushed to Sunnydale. He’d need them.

Anya reached into her purse and withdrew an ATM card for Spike and gave him the PIN number. “Use this temporarily.” I’ll transfer over sufficient funds, when I receive your documents, to accounts for that identity. “Spike, are you sure about all this, it’s risky, and really why would you care?”

“Gotta do what I do, Demon-girl, gotta go be a hero.” Be in touch, pet. Standing Spike leaned over and gave Anya a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a bit of all right, luv, don’t let anyone tell you different.” Spike left, he had a few more stops to make before he made his way back to Giles. He still had a few days left to prepare before he faced off against the Initiative. He needed some chains.

Maggie Walsh hated Sunnydale. The only place that was comfortable to her was the barely adequate university. The Initiative complex was her haven though. When she wasn’t preparing for her alias as a Psychology Professor, mixing with the other university staff, she spent all her time there. She supervised the finishing touches on the holding cells and went over the protocols that would be implemented as they would be filled in just a few short weeks. Unfortunately, even with her exalted position, she was not above having to shop for life’s little necessities. She was unconscious before she registered the blow that knocked her out as she headed from the convenience store to her parked car.

Maggie woke up to the sound of muffled voices above her. She found herself standing; her arms chained above her, nude, her clothes tossed in a corner, barely visible by the light of a single candle. She was underground; she could smell the dank earthy atmosphere and feel the cool air that bespoke of a cavern of some kind. Maggie Walsh was a hard women, little fazed her. Her single minded determination had served her well as she clawed her way to the top of the military research pile, landing this prestigious position. She wasn’t scared exactly, more apprehensive if anything. That would change.

“You sure this spell’s going to work Watcher.” “Don’t want to end up with all my bit’s and pieces all twitchy”

“Spike please stop, it’s a simple masking spell.” It will disguise our appearance and voices, nothing more. From what you’ve said Ms. Walsh is rather contemptuous of magic, preferring science over the mystical. “Bloody ignorant woman, she’s about the engage the forces of darkness without comprehending anything about it’s mystical nature. “Ignorant, stupid, foolhardy…”

“Yeah and she’s a right vicious bitch to, now lets get on with it.”

Maggie heard shuffling noises in the dark to her left. Straining her eyes she watched as two forms descended from some upper level and made there way to her. They were dressed in black cloaks, heavily cowled. She couldn’t make out there features. There was an aura of menace surrounding the men, she supposed, their size and moment weren’t those of women.

“Maggie Walsh, head of the Initiative project, how lovely to make your acquaintance,” a sibilant voice breathed out.

For the first time Maggie was shaken. The fact that she was naked before two men, chained in the dark didn’t unnerve as much as the realization that they knew a great deal about her. “Who are you?”

“We are your last chance to stop the madness that you’re about to begin, Ms Walsh,” the other voice hissed at her. You’re walking a dangerous path, one that will lead to the deaths of your men and countless innocents. The forces of darkness are not meant to be harnessed and controlled. Do you think y=that you’re the first to have tried this. “Tell me Miss Walsh, have you ever heard of the city of Pereleus?”

“No I don’t believe I have,” was her curious response.

“I doubt you would have, it was destroyed utterly in 422.’ The city was razed, and every man, woman, and child along with the current Slayer at the time were killed, all because of a power hungry idiot, much like yourself. His arrogance and belief that the creatures that roam the night could be controlled led his downfall as well. General Vernator of the Roman Empire decided that he wanted to spare the Legions under his command from having to fight needlessly in a campaign about to begin in Gaul. Vampires and demons were known to him, and using select units trained at capturing demons, he rounded up some four hundred various demons, including several vampires which he used to turn captured slaves. His new army swelled to twelve hundred. It was a brilliant plan. Much like your own; use creatures that were difficult to kill by conventional means, possessed with super human strength and senses and send them against the barbarians, thereby sparing humans from having to fight their own wars. A single vampire managed to escape the cages that they were penned in. Returning a few nights later with others, he freed those still held and together they laid waste to Pereleus. Three thousand Legionnaires lost their lives defending a city of nine thousand. They failed utterly. It was said that General Vernator’s screams were heard for days of the vengeful creatures he had abused and tortured attempting to get them to comply with his vision, took out their rage on him. “You see Ms. Walsh, he, like you forgot one important thing.”

“And what was that,” replied Maggie a disturbed but still haughty tone escaping her..

“Balance, my dear Ms. Walsh, balance.” There can be no order without chaos, no chaos without order. The universe requires balance. The balance between the human world and the demon one rests with the Slayer. She alone is Chosen to fight the vampires, the demons and the agents of chaos. She is the balance. “You are about the tip that balance and bring about a horror you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“You have one chance and one chance only.” “Pack up and go home, or suffer the consequences, “the other one said in that rasping malevolent voice. “If you continue, you will die, that I promise you.”

“If you’re going to kill me just do it, I don’t respond to threats,” she spat out.

Moving to Maggie, Spike transformed and placed his fangs against her neck. His voice taking on its most frightening tone, he whispered, “Oh no Maggie, it won’t be we who kill you.” You’ll die at the hands of your own folly. Your greatest achievement will also be your greatest failure. We have no need to kill you, easy though that would be. No Maggie you’ll die screaming “Tell me Maggie how it feels knowing that you’re the bad guy, and the evil creatures of the night are now on the side of the angels.” Laughing at her, he buried his fangs into her neck, drawing her blood in deeply. He knew Giles would be pissed, but he didn’t care. Payback was a bitch. ‘Bitch’

Maggie screamed as her flesh was torn by a vampire’s incisors piercing her neck. The pain was so intense she blacked out. Just as Spike intended. Giles glared at Spike as he helped him remove the chains and dress her.

“Was that really necessary.”

“No, but the bitch had it coming.” I don’t regret it at all. “Only one thing I regret.”

“Whatever might that be?”

“That I won’t be there when Adam guts her to tell I told you so.”

Maggie woke up, lying in a garbage bin outside of Lowell House. She’d been tossed in recklessly, her hair and body covered in slop and stale beer. Stumbling inside, the startled soldiers who were lounging around jumped to their feet taking in the sight of their disheveled leader. “We have a situation.” “The Initiative has been compromised.” Riley caught just as she collapsed from the loss of blood.

Giles sat in a plush leather chair, drinking a really remarkable aged Scotch. He looked around Spikes home, sipping appreciatively, taking in the tasteful décor. After he and Spike threw Maggie into the trash, they headed back to Williams new base of operations. As the vampire walked in the room after changing, Giles took in his appearance with a critical eye. “Are you sure that you’re prepared to do this.”

“Not really, was trained to ‘o course.” Why you want to do it?

Giles shuddered, “Hardly.”

Spike poured himself a tumbler and threw himself into a chair and sighed, “It’s necessary Watcher.” Someone’s got to stay close, you know that.”

“I am aware of the circumstances, I agreed with you then as now; it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I am also less then pleased about your choice of identities. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a clean handkerchief and handed it to Spike.

“What’s this for?”

“You’ll need it Spike, trust me you’ll need it to play the part.”  Both Spike and Giles raised their glasses and drank deeply. School started in three days.

Buffy was not adjusting well to her first day of college. Several flyers were thrust in her direction. She had yet to meet her new roommate or make it to her first class, Pop Culture. Spotting Willow and OZ she raced to them. “Willow, college is not turning out like I planned.”

“What’s wrong Buffy, you haven’t even been to a class yet.”

“I know I’m still trying to find the bookstore.” Willow, Oz and Buffy continued to discuss their day. Eventually Buffy and Willow headed to the campus bookstore. Her day continued to spiral downhill when she managed to humiliate herself in front of a really cute guy. Her roommate Kathy turned out to be a bubbly, hyper freakazoid. When she realized that the one course she was actually looking forward to attending, Pop Culture, she wasn’t even enrolled in; she contemplated just hanging out on the quad till the day ended. Then she’d go kill stuff and feel better. Sighing she made her way to her first class, praying her day wouldn’t get any worse. As she pushed her way past the students leaving the classes lecture hall, she overheard two girls chatting excitedly about how adorable the professor was.

Buffy finally found a seat along the aisle; the large windows streaming in warm California sunshine. She grabbed her course book, thumbing through it as she waited for the class to begin. Her head shot up, as the professor spoke, the rich accented timbre filling the hall:

“Good morning students, my name is Professor William Giles, welcome to 19th Century English Literature”

Buffy jumped to her feet as she saw Spike standing cockily in a pool of sunlight, a slight smirk on his face as their gazes locked.

Chapter 18

‘It was Spike, wasn’t it?’ thought Buffy. It sounded like Spike, sort of. The inflection of his voice was totally different, more “Gilsey.”. Gone was the course accent, replaced by a smooth, cultured lilt. ‘Why wasn’t he poofing!?’ He didn’t look like Spike either. His black jeans and tee shirt; were replaced with dark brown wool slacks and a white cotton shirt, under a plain sweater vest complete with an unremarkable tie. Instead of black combat boots, he wore plain brown loafers. His flowing black duster had been switched with a tweed jacket, complete with suede elbow patches adorning his upper body. ‘Oh my God!’ He was wearing glasses, wire framed, geeky glasses. She had expected that Spike would immediately dye his hair, reverting to his signature slicked back platinum blonde. ‘Huh, it IS curly.’ The short light brown hair was curled messily atop his head. ‘Why wasn’t he poofing!?’

“Professor Giles” looked at Buffy standing and gazing at him in astonishment. He needed to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. His cover as a geeky, unremarkable professor would be in jeopardy if Buffy screwed this up. Stammering he addressed her, “Ah miss, you can, ah take your seat, class will be…that is to say I’m about to begin…”

Buffy slowly sank back into her seat. Spike was stuttering and looking about nervously, almost shyly. Buffy had a serious case of the wiggins. On her scale of weirdness, this had definitely taken the top spot on the list. ‘Why wasn’t he poofing!?’ Water was wet, the sky was blue, Spike went poof in the sun. These were time honored truths. Spike did not dress and talk like Giles. He did not wear cute little glasses and have yummy soft, curly brown hair. ‘Whoa!’ That came out of nowhere. Spike was dangerous, and intense. She could admit the whole creature of the night, black clad predator thing he had going was really sexy in a warped twisted way. She wasn’t blind; he was a hottie for sure. But “cute”, Spike didn’t do cute. He was talking now. ‘Why wasn’t he poofing!?’

“We will be focusing this term on the greater and lesser works of such authors as Jane Austen, William Blake, Charlotte Bronte, Charles Dickens and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Also some of the more salient pieces by, Keats, Kipling, Edgar Allan Poe, and of course Sir Walter Scott will also be discussed. “And we mustn’t forget William Wordsworth, yes indeed we will, ahh, definitely want to center our attention on him a bit; brilliant man Wordsworth, truly remarkable.” Taking out the handkerchief that Giles had lent him, Spike removed his spectacles and began to polish them. He moved about the room during his introduction, pausing and pointing with his glasses when he wanted to inflect a particular emotion when mentioning one of the authors to be read. As he watched the rapt eyes of some of the students, he found he didn’t hate this as much as he thought. They were listening to him. It was rather a pleasant experience. One he wouldn’t admit to anyone of course.

Professor Giles spent the rest of the lecture outlining what he expected of his students, finishing up before the class ended, with, “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time before you go.” As I am new to UC Sunnydale, I find myself in need of a teaching assistant, and actually I’m embarrassed to say a, well they would be a kind of personal assistant of sorts. I fear I am woefully unfamiliar with this town and I could use a bit of aid in finding my way around. If anyone would be interested please see me after class. My office is just down the hall. “That will be all ladies and gentlemen; I look forward to seeing you anon.”

As the class began to file out Buffy stayed seated. She watched Spike inelegantly place the loose papers about his desk into a worn leather satchel. He moved clumsily. Where was the smooth feline grace he naturally commanded? She needed answers. Rising she moved towards him. As she reached him, he looked up at her, his clear blue eyes gazing at her over the top of his glasses.

‘Bugger’ “Yes miss, oh I’m terribly sorry I don’t know all my students names yet, that’s very rude of me, what can I do for you?” Do you wish to inquire at becoming my personal assistant?

Keeping her voice low so as not to draw any unwanted attention she said. “Where have you been, what are you doing here, and, oh yeah, why aren’t you poofing!?”

“I’m sorry miss I don’t quite understand your question, poofing?” His desire for her to understand caused him to enunciate just a little too clearly and precisely for her to mistake it’s meaning, he added,  Perhaps we should get together at a later time and go over your concerns with the required reading. “I’m late for a faculty meeting so feel free to drop by my office, LATER.” And with that he left, walking ungracefully towards to door. 
  
Buffy made her way slowly to her next class, mind racing at the ramifications of the past hour. Spike was walking and talking in broad daylight. He was apparently a professor and had undergone a Giles transplant. Giles, that was it, she’d have to talk to Giles as soon as she could. Her mind elsewhere, she didn’t register her surroundings until bumping into the broad shouldered back of someone. ‘Oh cute guy from the bookstores back, Riley I think’

“You seem a bit lost, Buffy wasn’t it?” Where ya headed?

“I uh need to be in Psychology, I mean not that I need to be in psychology; although after the last hour maybe I do; I mean I need to be in Psychology class.”

“Well you’re in luck I’m the TA for that class, we’re both late, so why don’t we brave the wrath of the professor together.”

Riley and Buffy entered Maggie Walsh’s classroom and endured the dressing down she gave them both in front of the other students. From her own lips she stated what a cold-hearted bitch she was and woe to any student who didn’t live up to her impossible standards. Buffy was convinced she was a demon. As soon as classes ended for the day, Buffy raced to Giles apartment to let him know that she had found Spike and apparently he had some sort of Coppertone SPF 10000 going for him. The sight of a pretty woman opening his door while wearing one of his shirts, and Giles in a bathrobe completed the ruination of her day. After telling “Hef” about Spike only to have him brush it off floored Buffy. When she told him about the name he was teaching under, Giles glowered.

“I know Buffy, its necessary for Spike to be viewed as my nephew for the time being.” I’m just as displeased as you are about it, but the blighter did it behind my back to punish me.

“Punish you for what?”

“Something about payback for my naming him Randy.” I’m not sure; very little of what Spike says is comprehensible. Buffy please don’t fuss, Spike promised me he would fill you in when the time is right. “Just go back to school and try to enjoy yourself.”

Buffy’s evening was as bad as her day when she got lost trying to find her dorm. Eventually she made it back and tried to sleep but her roommate Kathy snoring kept her up all night. ‘I hate my life.’

Spike met with Anya, Giles and several other late that night as they inspected and prepared for their part to take place in the next few days. Returning home late Spike got little sleep as he looked over his lesson plan for the next day. ‘I hate my life’

Buffy’s next day was much smoother. She planned on confronting Spike in his office, but when she arrived the large crowd of women who had gathered to apply to ‘service his personal needs’ made it impossible to get to him short of using her Slayer strength to muscle through. ‘Slut’s’ She’d deal with him later after her patrol, if she could find him. That didn’t go exactly as planned. After staking a fledgling she was sure she had seen the day before in one of her classes, she was confronted by a group of vampires led by a ho-bag named Sunday. Buffy was off her game. The Twilight Zone marathon she had been running; between flustered by college and the weirdness that was Spike caught up with her. After taken a pretty bad beating, including a broken arm, she fled, scared, confused and worried. She didn’t see the black clad figure observing the fight from a nearby roof top.

‘Slayers not right in the head.’ ‘Stupid chit is going to get herself killed if she doesn’t stop being so twitchy’ Sighing Spike made his way home. ‘Great one more thing to worry about’

Buffy almost started to cry. Her arm sore, her nerves shot, she stood in her room; as much as she could anyway with all the boxes in the way. “Mom what did you do to my room.”

“Nothing honey, I haven’t touched a thing.”

“You may not have touched anything but you buried it all in boxes.”

“It’s still your room Buffy; I’m just storing some things that Spike ordered until he can have them moved to his house.”

“Great Mom, just great, the evil undead has taken over my room once again.”

When Buffy returned to her dorm room and found all of her stuff gone and a note saying she had dropped out, she burst into tears. Angel was gone; her Mom had taken over her room, again. She was woefully out of place in college. Spike was the leading contender for “most likely to drive Buffy insane’ and a skanky ho of a vampire had kicked her ass. She was hanging on by a thread. She headed to the Bronze. It was the only place she could think of to be around people and still be alone. Running into Xander changed all that. She sat back as Xander filled in on his summer. She giggled when he told her about having to fill in as a male stripper, a tale he refused to elaborate on, ever. She cheered up quite a bit after his heartfelt statement that she was his hero. Resolving to pull herself together she and Xander left to find Sunday and lick her ass.

Spike sighed. ‘This is going to get old fast’ Opening a hidden panel in his closet, he removed the items there and began to dress and prepare. ‘May as well get me an Angelmobile to go along with all the Clark Kent rot’ Finishing he headed out into the night. There was evil afoot. He must dash away to thwart it.

Buffy was mad. That bitch had stepped on her cute umbrella award. Dodging and weaving she fought off Sunday and her minions. Managing to dust to, she went all out. The broken arm was a detriment though. Slipping on a shirt and ending up on her ass didn’t help either. ‘I hope Xander can bring some help’

“Well, well, a nice juicy Slayer for dinner.” Can’t top that can we boys, said Sunday as she eyed the struggling blonde. Two large goons holding her arms grinned, their fangs sharp displayed, waiting for the order to snack. All eyes turned to the sound of clapping.

“Nicely done I must say.” You must be Sunday, got yourself a right nice little operation going here; posh digs and all, very impressive.

“Spike.” breathed Buffy. It was the really real Spike. She watched as he lit the cigarette dangling from his lips, his lighter snapping closed to disappear into the pocket of his black jeans; his slicked back platinum hair gleaming in the light. This was definitely her Spike, all swagger and bluster. His black duster hung from him like a piece of armor.

“Spike, you’re Spike, THE Spike?” gushed Sunday. “I’ve heard so much about you!” “Minions, someone find me a pen and paper, can I have your autograph?”


“eard of me have you.” “Not that I’m surprised, Big Bad and all that.” Walking over he stood smirking down at the captive Slayer.

Glaring at him Buffy said, “Ego much.”

“So you got yourselves the Slayer, whatcha going to do with the bint?”

“Well I thought we’d go with the classics, a little torture, a little feasting, you know the usual.”

“Kill her ‘ey. Know why would you want to do that?”

“She has it coming.” Reaching down she picked up one of Buffy’s pairs of jeans. “She deserves to die for dressing so poorly.”

Laughing Spike walked around his eyes searching the ground. He bent over and retrieved a pair of Buffy’s silky, frilly little panties. Walking back to stand once more in front of the glaring blonde, he brought her underwear up to his eyes and cocking his head appeared to study them. Shaking his head and smirking, he placed the small scrap of clothing into the pocket of duster. He bent his forward looking Buffy directly in the eye. “Well Sunday, it’s not ‘zactly her fault about the clothes she wears. If you were a skinny arsed bint, with the chest of a ten year old boy, you’d find your options severely limited as well.”

Buffy lunged at him, straining against the two brutes that held her immobile. “You lousy son of a b….”

“Ahh, ahh, ahh, Slayer, no need to get shirty,” said Spike covering her fuming mouth with his fingers. Her words continued flowing from her, but were muffled by cool fingers. Removing his hand from the silent, but enraged Slayer, he bent his head even closer. Nose to nose, his cool laughing blue eyes staring intently at a pair of sizzling green slits, he addressed Sunday once more.

“It was aright proper plan you had, pet, unfortunately you forgot one thing.” Well you didn’t zactly forget, more like you never considered.

“And what would that be?”

“I kind of like the chit, just the way she is.” With that Spike closed the gap giving Buffy a quick kiss on the lips.

Buffy’s eyes widened as Spikes lips touched her own. The weight holding her back, suddenly disappeared and she fell forward into Spike’s chest. Leaping backwards she registered the stake clutched in each of Spikes hands, and the dust of the goons who had held her drifting in the air. Enraged she launched a punch at his smirking face. Laughing Spike danced out of her way. She rushed towards him but was intercepted by a suddenly apprehensive Sunday. Head butting the little slut, Buffy proceeded to take out her rage and embarrassment on the now minion light whore. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Spike fighting with one of the remaining vampires, his moves smooth and graceful, he staked him effortlessly. Sunday soon followed his fate.

It was this sight that greeted Xander, Willow and Oz as they rushed into the now empty lair. Well empty of the undead, except for Spike.

“Spike!” screamed Xander. Rushing forward he tried to hit Spike. Spike merely held his hand out, placing it on the boys head and holding him at bay.

“Oi, Whelp, ease up, you’re going to strain your manly bits if you keep that up.”

“Xander stop, leave Spike alone!” yelled Willow. She and Oz went over and pulled him back form the chuckling Spike. “Xander it’s ok, Spike won’t hurt you, he’s uhh, kinda not evil, or something.”

“Hey!” I am so evil. Just cause I don’t…” His words we’re cut off as Buffy slammed her fist into the side of his head, sending him flying. Rolling out of the dive as he hit the floor, he leaped gracefully back onto his feet.

“You kissed me you bastard!”

Hopping lightly on the balls of his feet, Spike smirked at her, “ s’right I bloody well did didn’t I” Tell me luv, did it make you mad, or get you all hot and bothered.”

“Bleached undead prick bastard!” Buffy flew at him her face twisted with anger.

“I’m going with mad then.” Spike blocked her wild punches. They fought openly across the discarded belongings of dead freshmen. Spike blocking and defensive, Buffy passionately and determined.  When he figured she’d had enough, Spike ducked under a series of swings, grabbed her around the waist and slammed her into the wall, his body smashing tightly against her own and lifted her arms above her head so she couldn’t move. Her chest heaved against his and he captured her eyes once more.

Willow and Oz restrained Xander once more as he was about to run in to aid his friend. “Stay out of it Xander, he isn’t going to hurt her.” said Willow.

“What are you talking about Wills; he could drain her dry right now!” “How do you know he won’t hurt her!?”

“I just do Xander, I don’t know why, I just for some reason know he doesn’t want to kill her. “Now listen.”

Spike’s looked deeply into Buffy’s green eyes. In a voice firm with conviction he said. “Lesson the first, luv; always expect the unexpected.” You were angry that I kissed you, and you channeled that anger into your fight this time. Good. I saw your pathetic little fight with Sunday last night. You were lucky to walk away. You lost your focus and will and it damn near bloody killed you, he ground out angrily. Every day that you hold onto that control, that focus is one more day you’ll come home from the fight. Remember this pet, don’t rely on just your instincts as the Slayer; rely on your instincts as Buffy as well. Your skinny arse just might live a little longer. “Here endeth the lesson.” Releasing her he moved back, his eyes still on her, standing motionless; a cold immobile piece of black chipped ice, waiting.

Buffy reeled from what he had said. She hated that he was right. Between Xander and Spike she was realizing just who she was supposed to be. Needed to be. She had stared at him, during his little lesson. He was serious. His voice calm with the certainty of the words he had spoken. He’d also just saved her life. He was right. Hanging her head, she mumbled. “You’re right; I was feeling sorry for myself and wasn’t concentrating.”

Inwardly Spike smiled. ‘Bloody bint just might make it now.’ Outwardly he smirked at her and said cockily. “Bloody right I’m right.” Absolutely brilliant in fact; everything I say is spot on accurate. “Here’s a thought, I should be a bloody teacher, imparting my words of wisdom to fresh young minds…”

Buffy’s head snapped up. Her eyes once more narrowed. She remembered all he’d said, and done in the last few minutes; and the last few days. As she remembered his words leading up to the kiss; ‘he kissed me!’, and the feeling of his hard body scrunched up against her softer curves, and the tingling feelings that had awoken in her…’nope no tinglies, NO TINGLIES!’ Enraged once more, she leapt at him driving him to the ground, her body straddling his laughing body, she slapped him hard.

“You kissed me!” Fishing around in the pockets of his duster she extracted her panties. She was ignorant at first of the position and the feel of her body, flush against his hard..’HARD!!’ ‘Spike was hard!’ And she was sitting on hard!’ ‘NO TINGLIES!’ Ignoring the NO TINGLIES!, and not realizing what she was doing, shook the silky thong in his face. “Don’t ever kiss me again!”

Giles rushed in to see his Slayer straddling William, or err Spike and shaking her fist which contained, ‘is that a pair of knickers’, ‘oh dear lord don’t let that be her knickers,’ while screeching at him to not kiss her again. “Oh good Lord.”

Quickly getting up from her position that had definitely been a NO TINGLE! Position whatsoever, she turned to walk away. Before she took two steps she swung back around and clocked Spike who was laughing while rising to his feet. “And there is nothing wrong with my ass!” she screamed.

Gathering her friends she stormed out, resolving to return later and gather her things. Giles and Spike followed behind out of their earshot, but not Spikes own.

“Was that really called for Spike.”

“She’s alive inn’t she.” A brassed off Slayer will live longer than a depressed moping one, or have you already forgotten what I told you.

Giles sighed, “Your right of course, this isn’t easy is it.”

“Not supposed to be easy, but if it keeps them, especially her alive, don’t rightly care how hard it is.”

“In another bright and lovely topic, everything’s in place.” Anya and the others are standing by waiting for your go ahead. “Do you really think it will come to all this.”
“You think the she-bitch is gonna go pack up her tin toy soldiers and toddle off.”

“No, I don’t suppose so,” sighed Giles.

“Then I think it will come to this, but this time it’s going to be a much harder go than before, hopefully with fewer casualties on both sides.” Up ahead he heard Oz quietly fill Xander in on Spikes sudden appearance three months ago and the subsequent events that transpired. He also listened in on Willow and Buffy’s conversation.

“I can’t believe he kissed me it was so, oh my god it was so…”

“Icky?”

“Ok we’ll go with that one.” Spike’s face hardened

“Buffy can I ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

“If Spike wasn’t you know all evil and stuff and well you know Spike like.”

“Yeah”

“Would it have been a nice kiss?” Spike’s ears perked up ‘Good on you Red’

“Umm, well if we stick to the uhh hypothesis that if Spike wasn’t Spike, then uhh if that was firmly established as Spike being non-Spike like then umm, well, yeah Wills it would have been a really, really nice kiss.”

“Wow, two really’s” Spike grinned

Buffy hung her head, “We will never speak of this again.”

“Lips are sealed Buffy.”

“Hey Willow, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Do you think that umm my uhh butt is to skinny.”

“I think you have a fantastic butt Buffy.”

Both Willow and Buffy turned, “Shut up Xander!”, as Spikes laughter filled the night. Buffy fled her face flaming with her Scoobies on her heels.


Later that night across campus a figure, wearing the darkness around him like cloak crouched atop a building and witnessed three armed and camouflaged men, chase down, corner and incapacitate a lone vampire, one he recognized as fleeing earlier from Sunday’s lair. ‘And so the war begins, not with a bang, but a whimper.’ Reaching into the interior pocket of his coat he pulled out his cellphone and activating the speed dial feature. When he reached the person on the other end, he said quietly, “It’s begun, do it.” Hanging up he disappeared into the darkness he was a part of.

In the Restfield cemetery, a three man collection team tracked a cold source silently through the forest of gravestones. They never saw what hit them; they were never meant to. The soldier’s bodies fell to the ground lifelessly.

Chapter 19

Two large Fyral demons stood over the bodies of the seemingly dead commandoes; a loose skinned, floppy eared demon standing between them, shaking his head sadly. Making a motion with his hand, he signaled a crimson robed figure forward and listened while it chanted for a few moments. When they finished, Clem asked, “We ok then, they can’t be traced?”

“None shall find them, “came the whispered response.

Turning to the hulking brutes, Clem addressed them in their guttural tongue. They bent down and retrieved the bodies lugging them to a nearby crypt, one pre-selected in this area, due to its easy access to Sunnydale’s vast underground tunnel system. Thanks to the late Mayor Wilkins, Sunnydale’s less desirable and nefarious citizenry had carte blanche freedom of movement, day or night. It was a feature they were to rely on extensively in the coming months. Moving quickly they reached their destination, dropping the bodies at the feet of Anya.

“Here ‘ya go Anya, they’re all yours.”

“Thank you gentlemen.” Anya removed herself from behind the large desk and workstation she was sitting at and looked down grimly at the immobile bodies before her. Sighing she signaled for the team standing by for this eventuality and moved out of their way. Glancing around Anya took in the décor of the “holding facility” once more bemused at its very existence and re-modeled features

When Spike, Giles and Anya had first stepped into the Masters former underground lair two weeks ago, they were actually surprised at how well appointed it was. Fortunately there were several chambers already suitable for habitation by the demon guards, and other staff that would be required. The real reason for its selection lay further down and a bit removed from the main chambers. The Master or ‘old bat face’ as Spike was prone to call him, had used it to test and refine his grand design for human cattle farms. Build into the walls were several dozen holding pens, complete with rudimentary sanitation systems. They could work with this. Anya and Spike immediately arranged for a team of Klarok demons to re-build, shore up, re-model and improve upon the existing facilities. The results had been extraordinary.


Working round the clock the Klaroks, who resembled humanoid ants, swarmed over the place; tapping into the water and electrical systems to provide light, heating, air circulation and modern sanitation. They smoothed the stone walls, turning them into polished reflective services. Each individual cell was torn apart and rebuilt as a well lit, homey two man dorm room, complete with private bath and shower, forty eight channels of television, and a comfortable sitting area for reading. The far end of the hall which separated the rows of rooms was an enormous dining and recreation room. There were three pool tables, a complete gym, shelves of books, a large screen TV and free vending machines which dispensed everything from soda to candy bars. It was a comfortable jail, but a jail nonetheless. The Fyral demons saw to that. They were stupid, but followed orders precisely and without question. The commandoes wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Spike hated all the comforts his money was providing for the bloody bastards. Anya insisted that his money was just fine and growing daily. He didn’t care. Giles was unrelenting; if they were to do this, their prisoners would be treated humanely. Spike grumbled but acquiesced. The small medical facility was fine by him; the commercial kitchen to provide for their prisoners dietary needs was not. He was all for dropping a bag of gruel from the ceiling each day to see how they liked it. Giles was again adamant that they receive the finest food possible.


When Clem’s cousin, a gourmet chef named Phil, arrived to take over the kitchen Spike nearly hit the roof. Phil was renowned for his succulent Siamese in a delightful mango sauce; a favorite of the demons, including Spike. But when Phil started gushing about how he had always wanted to try something different, expand his talents, and now his chance was here; he could finally delve into the exotic world of human cuisine, “a path less traveled…. “Spike stormed out.

Anya pulled herself back to the task at hand. She watched as the bodies were placed on stretchers and carried to the processing room. Their clothes, weapons and equipment were removed and placed neatly in nearby individual boxes. They were dressed in light blue undergarments, sweatpants and tee-shirts and a pair of plush padded moccasins. Each prisoner was to receive five sets of clothing, toiletries and an additional pair of tennis shoes. They would be waiting for them in their assigned rooms when they awoke. V’snevek demons made excellent clerks and quartermasters; they were so anal; literally. Soon the prisoners would awaken from their magic induced sleep. Then they would have to see the doctors. Anya sighed again. That wasn’t going to be pretty.
       
At 10:30am the next morning a delivery van pulled up to Lowell House and a bored driver carrying a clipboard knocked on the door. It was answered by one of its residents who signed for and took possession of a large crate. Inside, stacked neatly, were the three cartons containing the effects of the missing soldier’s, including their weapons. The Initiative was on high alert. All efforts to locate the missing team assigned to Grid AE 117 had come back negative. The personal behavior modification chips which included a built in tracking device, secretly planted in their bodies were unresponsive. Upon subsequent interrogation of the delivery company, it was learned that the crate was waiting for them on their loading dock, payment in cash was included. The note accompanying the crate was read by a few of the soldiers and discussed by them all later, before Maggie and her team retrieved it.

“You take ours, we’ll take yours. Just remember Ms. Walsh, you were warned, and you chose to move ahead. Any soldiers that unjustly suffer for it are your responsibility. Leave now, before this escalates further, for no reason but to satisfy your own hubris.”

Spike hated Angelus with a passion. He was a cruel vindictive bastard, who reveled in playing mind games with his victims. Spike always preferred a straightforward approach. See the guy, kill the guy. Didn’t mean that Spike hadn’t paid attention though. Angelus’s approach was distasteful to him. Didn’t mean it wasn’t effective. The note was just another prong of his attack. Divide and conquer and all that rot. Bloody hell it was going to be a long year.



The whole ‘eww’, Harmony is a vampire revelation was actually kind of funny accept for Willow getting bit. Harmony always was a vicious, cruel bitch, thought Buffy; now she had the fangs to go along with it. It was hard for Buffy to be upset these days. She had put the “my roommate’s really from hell, ask me how,” situation behind her. She forgave her friends for tying her up, and living with Willow wasn’t so bad. She was avoiding Spike like the plaque except for attending his class. The kiss and body scrunching totally forgotten,,uhh huh, never ever thought about it. No ma’am not her. She’d tried to talk to him about what was going on with the whole sunshine walking in thing, but he was always unavailable for some reason. His new assistant wasn’t any help; Jonathan was obviously under a thrall the way he jealously guarded Professor Giles schedule and location.

Buffy did have one new secret guilty pleasure. Something she guarded closely, never admitting to anyone. She was enjoying William’s class. It was mesmerizing. The accent and awkwardness combined with his passion and knowledge just captivated her. Often quoting obscure passages, Spike captured the aching romance, the poignant drama, the thrilling adventure. William wove the tapestry of words like a master painter. The stories he spun about the authors’ lives, the times they lived and wrote in, just fascinated her. ‘Makes sense I guess, he kinda lived back then.’ She watched him move across the room during his lectures, the sunlight glistening in his curly hair as he got caught up in one point or another. Who knew Spike, err William could be so…something. She never missed his class.

Yes life was good for Buffy. She was smitten.

Anya was present when the soldiers awoke, confused, intimidated by the Fyral demons guarding them and completely at a loss as to the nature of their surroundings. The comfortable modern décor was at odds by the demons they saw walking past their glass windows and doors.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” asked a perky Anya.

“Where are my men?” Graham was prepared to be captured in combat and tortured. He wasn’t prepared to wake up in comfy clothes to the sight of a pretty young woman.

“Oh they’re fine, probably still sleeping.” I can check if you want.

“Where am I?”

“This is the Ranch; well we’re calling it the Ranch for now.” We tried to come up with a really intimidating name, but nothing ever quite clicked. Hey you guys have a really neat name, “The Initiative”, why don’t you come up with a cool name, we could use that instead, stated Anya brightly.

“What do you know about the Initiative?” Graham asked curiously. If he could keep the girl talking, he may be able to get some valuable intel that he could use against his captors.

“Pretty much everything, but we can talk about that later if you really want to.” Right now you need to see the doctors. I’ll go with you so you won’t be scared ok. I’m going to open the door now. The Fyral’s you see won’t hurt you unless you do something silly like try to hurt one of the staff or escape. Otherwise you can come and go as you please. “Come on” holding out her hand she grasped Grahams and holding it, walked him down the corridor, turning right into a room containing some cabinets, and a padded medical table.

Hopping up onto the bench, Anya patted the place next her indicating that Graham should join her. Suspiciously Graham sat down on the table next to Anya, continuing to hold her hand. This was nothing like he expected. When the woman spoke again Graham turned to listen to her.

“My name is Anya by the way, in case you wondered; I sort of oversee this place for my employer.” Ok the doctor will be here soon to help you. I’ve found that men tend to be big babies when their sick, that’s why I’m here. I’ll be right here with you, so don’t be afraid. The doctor here is a little unusual compared to what you’re most likely used to. Everything’s going to be ok. “Oh here’s Doctor Tlkekby, now”

Graham looked away from Anya taking in the iridescent scales that adorned the body of the demon standing before him. He jumped back, but Anya held fast. “I know this is scary, but it’s ok The Doctor isn’t going to hurt you, in fact she’s here to help. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“What is she going to do, and I feel fine.” Keep that thing away from me.

Doctor Tlkekby looked at Graham who was trying to remain stoic and brave, but was failing miserably. “There’s no need to be rude young man, said Doctor Tlkekby, and while I’m sure you feel fine in reality you are not, or you won’t be if I don’t deal with the problem now.” The Initiative has been injecting you with muscle enhancers, which your body wasn’t designed for by the way, also the so called vitamins you’ve been taking are heavily laced with endorphins and adrenal supplements that are highly addictive and extremely dangerous. That was merely supposition from our source, but I verified it earlier when I examined you. I’m going to remove these toxins from your system. “It won’t hurt you at all.”

“It won’t hurt, be brave ok,” said Anya.

Graham didn’t want any part of this. With the hulking guards behind him, he knew it wouldn’t matter what he wanted. Steeling himself for the torture he was about to endure, he ground at icily, “I’m your prisoner, do your worst.”

Sighing, Doctor Tlkekby reached with her tentacled appendages, placing them on his arms and neck, “how melodramatic.”

Graham braced himself for the pain, but it never came. “What are you doing, I don’t feel anything?”

“I’m sucking or more precisely extracting the toxins from your system, converting them to a more benign form and injecting them back into your body.” I told you it wouldn’t hurt. I get paid a great deal of money by the way for performing this procedure on wealthy heavy drug users. You try converting heroin into a less toxic substance within the body, it’s difficult. Here we’re dealing with natural enzymes, hormones and endorphins; simple really. About two minutes later Doctor Tlkekby removed her tentacles and said, “There, all better, lollipops are on the counter there, have a nice day.”

Anya led a perplexed Graham back to his room. It was a process that would be repeated quite a few times.
Parker was perfect. He was sweet and smart; very easy on the eyes, just perfect. Best of all he walked around in the sun, didn’t shift into his game face when he kissed her, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to open up a statue bringing hell to earth, thereby being forced to stab him with a sword and send him to said hell. He was normal, so wonderfully normal. A nice cute guy who liked her and wouldn’t head off to Los Angeles for her own good; perfect. They’d kissed several times, nice normal kisses. She had a wonderful time at the party and when she ended up in his room, in his arms and ultimately in his bed, all she could think about was how wonderfully normal it was. Waking up alone sent Buffy into a mild panic, but she calmed when Parker returned bearing breakfast. Leaving his room, a happy Buffy smiled and looked forward to seeing and talking to him later as he promised.


It was a fluke really. Professor Giles was on his way back to his office, returning from a late faculty lunch. He was secretly pleased to see a stressed Maggie Walsh, who had taken to wearing scarves. Life was good. That’s when he saw the wanker talking to some bint; and Buffy watching the wanker. ‘Bloody hell’ He had forgotten that today was the day he had originally found the ring. And he had forgotten the boy. He was enraged at himself, with the boy, and mostly at Buffy. The part that loved and understood Buffy was understanding and empathetic of the still young girl. The rest of him was angry. It took him a moment to focus; when he did he saw red. Unfortunately for Parker, he got to him first.

“I’m sorry Buffy if you thought that it meant more than it did.”

Buffy collapsed on the bench, tears filling her eyes, as Parker walked away. She looked up moments later when she saw him sail over the bench and land in a broken heap at her feet.

“Wha…”

A brownish colored blur moved past her and snatched Parker off the ground. Holding him by his neck, his feet barely touching the ground, Spike brought the boys face inches from his own. His voice was cold, so very cold, when he addressed the boy. “ Let me guess mate, you find a pretty bird, say all the right things, bat your puppy dog eyes, then after you’ve had yourself a little rough and tumble, you give the chit a bye your leave.” How am I doing so far?”

Parker, fear in his eyes, stared into stormy blue eyes, roiling with anger and menace. “Are..are..aren’t you the English professor?” You can’t do this.

“S’right mate I am the English professor, I’m also the one about to tear your ribcage out and wear it as a hat.”

Buffy stood up still shaking and tearful, “Wait, don’t….

Spike looked over, pointed his finger at her and in a voice cold as death said, “Sit down.” Power and authority rolled off him in waves. This was a Spike Buffy had never seen. Even in his geek, professor chic, this was Spike not William, or maybe it was. Buffy sat slowly, her eyes on Spike, transfixed on what he was saying.

Turning his attention back to the boy, Spike again addressed him. “Listen to me boy, and listen well.” A woman is not a toy. She is not a plaything to be used and cast aside after you’ve had a taste. A woman is a precious thing, to be cherished. “A woman is to be worshiped; this woman most of all.” Spike couldn’t help it. He was too caught up in his rage. Parker wore his own face as well as that of Angel, Riley and the Immortal. “You lay in the arms of a golden goddess, you ascended to heaven embraced by an angel and you repay that honor not with awe, but rather scorn!” Boy, you are going to get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness. If you don’t, and if you are anything less than sincere, I’ll make sure it takes weeks to find all your body parts. Spike spoke the last in a whisper his eyes flashing gold. He registered the strong odor of urine. Looking down he could see that the boy had wet himself. Flinging him to the ground at Buffy’s feet, he stood shaking with rage.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, please, I’m so sorry.” Parker cried to Buffy, sobbing and weeping. He begged and pleaded, more for his life rather than for any actual shame at his behavior.

Buffy, still staring at Spike said, “Fine, ok, go, just go.” She couldn’t believe what Spike had just done, what he had said. He stood before her glaring, the muscles in his cheeks twitching. ‘Wow’

Parker got up and ran. Over the next year whenever he saw Professor Giles his bladder began to loosen. It would take years of therapy before he overcame his fear of women. He never forgot the yellow eyes.


“Spike, what you did, and the things you said…”

“Shut up.” Buffy was startled at the vehemence in his voice. Spike knew Buffy, oh how he knew her. He knew what Parker was to her and why. He hated the ignorance she had of herself, the idiocy of her shielded emotions. For that’s what this was about. Her heart; her velvet heart, covered in steel by Angel and wrapped in filigreed chains. Filigreed chains that would tighten when Riley left her; when Riley came back with a wife; when Joyce died, when Glinda died. Filigreed chains that would never unwind for him; never break. Steel that would never melt, exposing that velvet heart. Spike hated her for it.

“Tell me pet; when you pried apart your dimpled knees, did it go away?” Did it make it all better?”

“Wha…?”

“I said shut up.” Angel, Buffy did it make it all better, because that’s what this about, what it will always be about; Peaches. Did it make you feel normal, make you feel clean. Walking hand in hand in the sun; watching the boy bat his insipid eyelashes at you; kissing a warm mouth instead of a cool one. Did it make it all go away? It did didn’t it, but only for a time; because that pain is still there. You’re going to carry it always. Because you like the misery, you need it. You’ll never let the oh so bitterly sweet drama that is Angel and you go. That’s why you’ll never know the joy of real, true complete passionate love. You’re broken inside. “Until you unwrap those filigreed chains from around your heart, you’ll never be healed.”

Spike stormed away, he couldn’t bear to look at her tear streaked, wounded face anymore. He was thankful he couldn’t see his own reflection in a mirror. He was frightened about what it would show.

Buffy wept and wept. Eventually making her way back to the room she shared with Willow. Falling into the redhead’s arms, she sobbingly told her about Parker, Spike, everything. Willow lay in her bed listening to Buffy sniffle until finally falling into a troubled sleep. Buffy’s last thoughts before joining her were of cold blue eyes, trying to reconcile how kind and cruel Spike could be at the same time. The fact that not a single word he said was untrue wasn’t lost on her. Not one.

Weeks passed. Beneath Sunnydale cages and stylishly designed dorm rooms began to fill.

 

Buffy moved about her life listlessly. She attended classes, paying close attention and working diligently on her assignments. She patrolled making sure to stay focused and alert. But inside Buffy was hurting. Parker using her, and after Spikes endearing turned vicious, dashing defense of her virtue, she knew that that’s what it had been. Buffy pondered long and hard on what Spike had said, hating herself for caring what he thought. Was she destined to pine over Angel for the rest of her life? What if she couldn’t let it go. She still loved him so much, ached for him. What if Spike was right? Drusilla said Angel wasn’t hers. She’d also said that her true love was made just for her, to be what she deserved. It could be terribly romantic if that was the case. Too bad Dru was insane. Sighing Buffy tightened her grip on her bag and made her way to Professor Giles class. She had found a great spot in the back row to hide in, yet still attend class.

For Willow, life was about to take many interesting twists. She was angry at Spike for hurting Buffy. Her friend was in pain and it was his fault. Well Parkers too, but Spike had been mean. After everything they had done for him and he repaid that kindness by tearing Buffy apart when she was most vulnerable. Resolve face firmly set, she went about locating one Professor William Giles, aka Spike and ripping him a new one; after she found Xander to go with her because Spike was still kinda scary. His office a bust; not even his assistant was around, she headed to Giles. She remembered that Buffy had mentioned hearing from her mom that he had a house. Giles should have the address. No joy on the Giles front, no one was home. Xander and Willow headed back to campus frustrated. Ahh ha! Spike was a professor, ergo they paid him, and ergo they had a valid address for him. Willow tapped into the administration mainframe, thank god it was the weekend, and voila, there was the address of one Professor William Giles. Mightily proud of her sneaky skills, Willow and Xander made their way to 117 Merrimac Lane. To say they were shocked at what they found would be putting it mildly.

“He must be compensating for something.”

“Why do you say that Xan?”

“Because it would be fair that’s why.” He’s already got the whole bad boy Prince of Darkness, cool accent, is wickedly handsome, and oh yeah, super hero strength thing going for him. “If he didn’t have the package to back it up, the universe would be a fair and ordered place.”

Willow who knew the truth wisely kept it to herself. It wasn’t that Spikes place was big, it was just nice. The two story ranch style home sat on a couple of acres. The lawn and flower beds obviously professionally cared for. There was a three car garage, large front porch, and windows. There was a lot of a windows, noted Willow. It was nice, kinda homey and comfy looking; just where a well off English professor might live. She saw there were vehicles parked in the driveway. Well Giles car was there, and a scooter, but she didn’t recognize the little red convertible. Making their way to the door, Willow pressed the doorbell and waited until Jonathon opened it.

“Willow, Xander, how are you?”

“Fine Jonathon, we’re here to see Sp..err Professor Giles.”

“Spikes in the study with his guests, I’ll see if he wishes to meet with you.”

“We’ll show ourselves in, bug eater,” said Xander pushing past a startled Jonathon and stepping inside, Willow in tow. Deadboy Junior! Get your ass out here! Xander started moving around

Willow looked around the bright interior of the house. ‘Wow’ The décor was sort of modern, meets old world. Turning to Jonathon, she said, “You know who Spike is don’t you?”

“Of course, I was there on Parent-Teacher night Willow, and if you’ll recall I was the one who gave Buffy the Class Protector award. “Sure I know who Spike is.”

“Is that why you volunteered to be his assistant?”

“Actually he volunteered me.” I was on my way to class and he grabbed me and hauled me into his office and told me I was now working for him. “Which is nice I really like it.

“Why?”

“Why do I like it?”

“Why did he want you to work for him?”

“Said he didn’t want to ever see me on a calendar.” Spikes sort of weird sometimes.

‘Just sometimes’, thought Willow. This whole thing was getting weirder by the minute. She wasn’t about to be put off any longer. Willow Rosenberg wanted answers and she was going to gosh darn get them. ‘Oh there’s Spike, he’s grumpy, not good.’

“What are you doing here Whelp?” He nodded towards Willow, acknowledging her presence, “Red.”

“I came with Willow so we could beat the crap out of you for being a prick to Buffy.” That’s when Xander started laughing. He hadn’t seen Spike yet in his ‘secret identity’ clothes before. “Oh my God, you look like a dork.”

Willow noticed that Spike, even dressed as he was, looked sheepish, almost ashamed when Xander mentioned Buffy.

“You’ll have to do it later, Whelp, I’m busy.”

“What did you do to Buffy Spike?” came Giles voice, who entered the room with Anya and some guy Willow didn’t recognize.

Spike moved away from the others and entered the living room. It had several large sitting chairs and a huge couch, facing a big screen TV. With his back to them, he stared out the picture window which overlooked the large manicured front lawn. “I lost my temper, Rupert, I…saw…I was somewhere else at the time, and may have reacted a bit harshly to the current situation.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“Not right now, no.”

Anya piped up immediately, “Is this because Buffy had sex with Parker Abrams who used her, then dumped her, and you yelled at her for sleeping with him in the first place, and it was all Angels fault anyway.”

Spike whirled around towards Anya, “What, how did you…”

“Hallie told me, she overheard the whole thing.”

“Who the bloody hell is Hallie, and why is she spying on me!”

“Hallie is a vengeance demon, well justice demon as she likes to be called and she wasn’t spying on you, she was spying on Buffy.

Spike’s voice was low, as he clenched his fists, “Why is a vengeance demon spying on Buffy.”

“She wasn’t spying on Buffy specifically, she just happened to be the girl who, ok let me explain. It’s like this. Since I became human Hallie has had to sort of fill in for me. D’Hoffryn hasn’t replaced me yet it appears. It takes time to find and train the right woman to serve as a vengeance demon; I was one of the best you know…”

“Anya!”

“Sorry”, Anya huffed, “Anyway, it seems that Parker has been on our watch list for some time.” Hallie was merely here to offer her services to the unfortunate woman who next fell under his charms. Buffy it seems was that one. Hallie was about to materialize and offer to do so, when you appeared and did it for her. She was a bit put out by the whole thing, but she said the ‘ribcage as a hat’ vengeance was very creative.

Giles absorbed the conversation between Spike and Anya, noting that the others in the room were switching back and forth between the two. It made sense now. Spike had focused on what was, rather than what is. “Spike we need to talk, privately.”

“Nothing you’re’ gonna say, Dad, I haven’t already said to myself.” It’s over and done, nothing to be done about it.

“Except for the apology.”

“I am not bloody apologizing to her.” She made her choices, she’ll live with them.

“Has she Spike, has she made all her choices.”

Giles and Spike stood immobile, facing one another. Willow held her breath as some kind of silent communication, seemed to flow back and forth. Giles was calm, whereas the muscle in Spikes cheek twitched. Eventually, they must have come to an understanding as Spike ground out, “Fine.” Where is the bint?”

Shakily, Willow said, “She’s going to be in the library all weekend, studying.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to her later.” Happy Red, get what you need Whelp. Good, now get out.

“No” said Willow firmly. I want to know what’s going on. You’re all being secret having people and I don’t like it. Who’s that?, she said pointing at the unnamed boy.

“Hi I’m Andrew, Tuckers brother?

“Right, Andrew Willow, Willow, Andrew, Andrew that’s the whelp.

“How are you involved in all this?” asked Willow

“I’m afraid that’s classified Ms. Rosenberg.” We operate on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.

“I so do need to know!” Giles tell him I need to know!

Spike fell into one of the easy chairs, sprawling his legs outward, he said, “I don’t have time for this.” He was frustrated, tired and just plain worn out. He began to brood about the best way to approach Buffy to apologize, without actually having to say it. He tried to ignore all the voices around him as they started to bicker back and forth. Eventually he pulled his attention away from his thoughts when Giles spoke to him.

Everyone stopped and listened to their conversation. “Spike perhaps it’s time to bring them in.” We need the help and frankly, I’ve never been comfortable keeping them from it. I know you had your reasons, but maybe now is the time.

“It’s too soon, Rupert, the operation is still new, and they’d be in danger.”

“You’d be there to protect them, that is why you are wearing those ridiculous clothes.”

“I wanted to wait; it’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”

“Spike, you can’t keep it all on yourself, they’re going to stumble across it on their own eventually, and by then it might be too late.”

Spike considered Giles words. He was right, he’d need their help. Sighing he rose and looked at them. “It’s getting late.” Be back here tomorrow afternoon at one and I’ll explain everything. “I need to go see Buffy.”

As Spike walked out of the room to change for his appointment with the love of his life; who hated his guts, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “It will be alright, Spike.”

“Bloody well hope so, Watcher.”

Twenty minutes later Spike entered the kitchen on his way to the garage. He could hear Giles and Willow talking in the living room, catching up on things. Xander’s head was blocked by the refrigerator door, which he was rustling around in.

“How come you have every kind of food imaginable in here, but not a drop of blood?” That’s right you enjoy take out.

“Keep the blood stored somewhere else Whelp.”

“Really.” No late night snacking on the teenagers at make out point, no dropping by the 7-11 for an O negative Slurpee.

Spike stood before Xander and said, “I may be on a liquid diet, Harris, but that doesn’t mean I lack the self control not take it directly from the tap.”

“Uhh, huh.” Look bleach boy, you may have the girls and your little bug eaters all fooled, but I know what you are.

“Do you Whelp, do you really, what about Giles, think he’s a bug eater or a poofter?”

“I don’t know about Giles, you must have fooled him somehow.”

“Come back tomorrow, Harris, you’ll get your answers then.” ‘Some of them anyway.’

Xander followed Spike as he entered the garage, flipping on the light. “Dammit.”

“What’s your problem now, whelp?”

“Well the Jag and the SUV, are one thing, but the motorcycle, you’re just playing this bad boy image for all it’s worth.”

“S’matter, jealous?”, said Spike as he roared off into the night, black duster snapping in the wind.

“Yeah.”, was Xander’s whispered response as he shut off the light and hit the button to close the garage door. Unlike Willow, he’d figured Spike out from the moment he saw him in Sunday’s lair, pressed up against Buffy.

Buffy sighed, this studying business was boring. The library was quiet, there were only a few other students there so late on a Saturday. Most she was sure were out partying. She seriously thought about going out and drinking; still depressed about Parker and Spike. But beer just didn’t have any appeal after the Neanderthal frat boy incident. If Xander hadn’t come running to her with the whole sordid warlock spiking the beer story, every idiot boy on campus would have been clubbing women and dragging them back to their lair. The fire was pretty though. She could go patrol, but it was so slow. There hadn’t been any serious Slaying activity in awhile, not since Halloween, and that consisted of her squashing a tiny demon with her shoe. Not exactly a great workout. Spike, what was going on with Spike? She wanted to talk to him, figure out what he was up to, but she was scared about facing him. She was embarrassed by her tryst with Parker, and having Spike do and say what…She focused on her books. She was startled when someone dropped something in front of her and asked,

“You Buffy?”

“Yes.”
“That’s for you, your boyfriends hot by the way, “

“My boyfriend?” The girl had already left. Glancing down saw a cream colored note attached to a white rose.

‘Out front, five minutes, we should talk. I’m a bad, rude man. Sorry Spike’

Spike wanted to talk, and he sent a note with flowers, or a flower. At least this one had the flower attached, which was a far cry from the last time a vampire sent her flowers. Gathering her things, she calmed her nerves and made her way out of the library.

Spike was leaning against a sleek looking motorcycle smoking. Seeing Buffy he threw the cigarette away, turned and swung his leg over the seat. “Come on; pet, nights young, we got places to go.”

“What do you want Spike?” Buffy folded her arms defensively across her chest. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

“Not here pet, too many distractions, hop on we’ll go someplace and have ourselves a little chat.”

Huffing Buffy weighed her options. If she went with Spike, she just might get some answers. If she didn’t there was no telling when he’d get chatty again. Curiosity finally winning, she made her way down the library steps and climbed on behind Spike. The motorcycle roared to life and she just had time to hear, “Hang on, luv.”, before they sped off into the dark. Her arms clutched around his middle, she hugged him tightly as he raced through the campus and the town, directing the bike towards the low lying foothills just outside of town. Turning off the main road, he made his way towards the Sunnydale Botanical Gardens which overlooked the Pacific Ocean. When he finally stopped, he swung off the bike, grabbing Buffy’s hand, and pulled her with him to a spot he’d chosen for its view and isolation.

“Where are we going Spike?”

“You’ll see, pet.”

After arriving at the flower filled garden overlooking the calm sea, lit by the approaching full moon, he released her hand and moved by himself to gaze at the ocean, and the varied trees and flowering plants that graced this place swayed gently in the light breeze. Removing his duster, he spread it on the ground and said gently, “Go on, luv, have a seat.”

“How’d you find this place?”, Buffy was entranced at how serene this all was. The sight of Spike standing with his back to her looking out at the ocean, white hair gleaming; it was quietly beautiful; and more than a little surreal.

“Took Joyce and the ‘Bit up here for a tour couple weeks ago, thought it was right bloody beautiful.”

Buffy walked over, grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her. “What right did you have to take my mom and sister on a tour?”

Spikes face grew stony as he saw Buffy’s surprise and anger directed at him. “I’ve got every right.” I happen to like them. I take them out to dinner, or a picture, or someplace like here at least once a week. “When was the last time you dropped by for how do you do, Slayer?”

Buffy was once more surprised by Spike, not only by the fact that he was being nice to her family, but that he made her feel bad about not being around. The strain was too much. It all caught up with her. Drusilla, Spike, Parker, Spike, Professor Giles, walking in the sun, Spike evil, but not doing anything evil that she could find. She stepped back and hit him saying, “Stay away from my family, stay away from my friends, stay away from my school, and stay away from me.” Each statement was enforced with a jab or kick.

Spike rolled with each one, letting her work it out. He knew the pressure had built and needed to be let out. When her words became nonsensical, once more he ducked under her blows and kicks, and sweeping her legs out from under her, rolled her onto her back, with him above, atop his duster. “You ‘bout done with that tantrum, pet?”

“Get off of me!” Buffy struggled, but Spike had her hands pinned down with his much larger ones above her head, his body nestled between her legs. She bucked and writhed, but Spike remained where he was. Wearing herself out, she finally stopped and grindingly said, “Get off of me.”

“No, we’re going to have a chat, you and me, and this as good a place as any.” Here’s how it works, you ask me whatever you want. Ask me anything your heart desires. Something’s I’ll answer, some I won’t. “I promise you this though, I won’t lie.” Looking into her eyes, he softly said, “I’ve never lied to you, luv,” and that just drives you mad doesn’t it.”

“Fine we’ll talk, but we can do it without you lying on top of me, GET OFF!”

“No, I’m comfy here, and this way, you can’t keep hitting me.” Settling himself a bit more between her thighs, he leaned down, resting his head on her neck. “Ok pet, ask away.”

Buffy felt Spikes head on her neck; His hair was brushing against the side of her face. And his body was nestled atop hers. This was very awkward and frustrating, but not unpleasant. She tried to focus on questions to ask, so she wouldn’t have to deal with why this was not unpleasant. She needed to ask questions.

“Why did you kiss me?” Damn that shouldn’t have slipped out, concentrate Buffy.

Spike chuckled; the deep rumbling sending little sparks through Buffy. “Because I wanted to, you looked adorable all brassed off and glaring,” Besides, it made you mad, and I wanted you mad so you’d pull out of your funk and start acting normal.

“How come you’re not evil anymore?”

“Who said I wasn’t evil?” I’m a vampire pet, evil comes with the package.

“Giles said you aren’t eating anyone, that you’re drinking bagged blood.”

“True.” Just cause I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I’m a ravenous beast. Vampires know the difference between right and wrong, pet, we just don’t care. I can control myself.

“So why are you controlling yourself?”

“Because I found something I cared about.”

“What?”

“Next question.”

“Tell me what you care about first.”

“No, next question.”

“Fine, how come you walk around in the sun without poofing?’

“Poofing, is that a Buffyism?” I can’t tell you pet, at least not yet.

“Why not?”

“If I tell you, you’ll tell Peaches and pretty soon I’ll have to see the poof wearing swimming trunks and frolicking around the beach, no thanks. I’ve seen Peaches starkers before, it’s an ugly sight.

“Very funny.” Fine. “Why are you pretending to be an English professor?”

“I’m undercover, I needed free access to the campus, and as a professor I can be there when I need to, without drawing attention to myself.”

“What are you Spike Bond?”

Laughing, Spike said, “Something like that, I’ll explain all that tomorrow.” Willow, Xander, Giles and I will be getting together at my place tomorrow, you can come with her. I’ll fill everyone in there about what’s going on then.”

“Tell me now.”

“No I don’t want to tell it twenty times, you can wait till tomorrow with the rest of your Scooby gang.”

As Spikes body began to relax on top of Buffy, he was filled with such a sense of contentment being here with her, on her, around her, and talking. No fighting, no anger, just talking. His hands began to loosen on her wrists.

Buffy felt Spike begin to relax atop her, and as much as she hated her body for it, she began to relax to. Spikes position between her legs, and lying fully on her was…comfy. It felt nice and peaceful. Questions, she needed questions.

“I like your class.” Damn, she must remember to state her answer in the form of a question said Alek Trabek’s voice in her head.

“Is that why you’ve taken to hiding in the back row, because you like it so much?”

“I’m not hiding!”

“You used to sit in the third row, left side on the aisle.”

“You notice where I sit.”

Breathing Buffy’s scent in, Spike shifted his head so his breath tickled the skin on her lovely neck and said softly, “I always notice you, pet.”

Buffy shivered. Spikes cool breath dancing across her heated skin. Spike heard her heart rate increase slightly.

“I wasn’t hiding, I just, you were really mean, and I didn’t want to see you…and hey how come your such a good teacher?”

“Well, I’m glad you like the class and thank you for thinking I’m a good teacher.” As to why, that’s what I had planned on being before Dru turned me. I’d just gotten my degree two years before that, and was waiting to begin teaching English at a private school.

“You have a degree, from where.”

“Oxford, class of ‘78”

“So you’re smart and educated, great.” I thought you were faking it.

“No pet, got the brains to go with the devilishly handsome looks.”

“Devilishly being the key component.”

Spike chuckled, once more sending little shock waves through Buffy’s body.

“So you were a teacher then before.”

“Not exactly, hadn’t actually started yet, I was busy pursuing something else.”

“What were you doing?”

“None of your business, it was embarrassing.”

“What was it, tell me.”

Spike got nervous, he’d never told Buffy, the other Buffy the complete story of his past. But if this was going to be fresh start, one where they stopped trying to destroy each other, he supposed he’d have to be a bit more open. “You’ll laugh; it’s not something I’m proud of.”

“I promise not to laugh, I won’t just tell me.” Buffy was thrilled. Spike was sharing secrets with her. It was like pulling back the curtain of his life, The man behind the myth. And it was embarrassing; she could use it against him probably.

“I was a poet.” Spike froze, waiting for her to laugh at him; he would have if the roles had been reversed.

Buffy froze as well. A poet. Drusilla had said, ‘let me help my poor lost poet.’ Spike was a poet. Images began to race through her head of Spike in his Professor Giles look, sitting at a desk, a gas lamp illuminating his features as he put pen to paper. She tried to dredge up some feeling of amusement or think of a way to tease him. She couldn’t it was just so romantic. Spike was a poet. “I like poetry.”

“Do you now, pet.”

“Yes I really do.” Both Spike and Buffy were silent for a long time, each one lost in their own thoughts. Spike released Buffy’s wrists, but kept his hands stretched out in front of him. Buffy barely registered the new found freedom.

“Who is Illyria, and how did you get hurt so bad?’

“Blue, Illyria, is an ancient demon queen. An original demon, from before mankind.” As to how I was burned, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

“You said you wouldn’t lie, so I’ll believe you.” How do you know her?

“I can’t tell you anything about Blue, pet, I just can’t. There are reasons for it, someday I will if you still want me to, but not for a long time. Just gotta be that way.

“Ok, how did you get burned?”

“It was a dragon Buffy, a huge, very real, very deadly dragon that killed a lot of people.” Blue and I were the only ones left to deal with it, and Blue wasn’t in any shape to face it. So I had to do it.

“I would have heard if there was a dragon killing people, if there was such things as dragons.”

“It was real, very much so.” And yes, normally you would have heard about it. But there were extenuating circumstances.

“Which were?”

“One of the things I can’t tell you, pet, sorry.”

“You told Giles and Anya, why won’t you tell me?”

“Anya was a special case, she had information I needed.” A twelve hundred year old ex-vengeance demon picks up a lot of useful information when she’s lived that long. And the Watcher, that wasn’t by choice. I wouldn’t have told him if I could have avoided it. Not sorry about it now, but wasn’t my choice.

“I can keep a secret Spike, you can trust me you know, if I’m at the point where I’m learning to trust you, you could put a little faith in me.

Spikes arms wrapped around her, his face sinking deeply into the well of her neck. He was deeply moved that Buffy, this Buffy said she was starting to trust him. “Means a lot to me that you trust me Buffy, can’t say as I expected it.”

Buffy was startled by Spikes embrace. It was one thing to be lying here all comfy with him on top of her; it was another to feel herself being drawn even closer. It felt really good and safe. She must be losing her mind. Her own arms settled around his broad shoulders and held him back.

“Then tell me what is going on, what is really going on.”

“Buffy, listen to me pet, please, this is important.” I can’t tell you everything about Blue, or what happened to me, how I got here. I promise to tell you what I can, and you’ll learn more tomorrow. I can’t tell you everything I told Giles. It’s not because I don’t trust you. It’s not that at all.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because if I do you’ll die, and I won’t do that”

“I’m the Slayer, Spike, I can take care of myself,” she said angrily.

Raising his head and looking deeply into her green eyes, “I didn’t say the Slayer would die, Buffy, I said you would die.” Physically you’ll live, but you will die inside. Your soul will shatter, Buffy. It will cripple you. Giles can deal with it because it doesn’t affect him as directly as it could you.

“I don’t understand what your saying Spike.”

“I know, pet, I wish I could make it all clear.” Thinking about how to explain without, really explaining much he came up with an analogy that may just get her attention. “Buffy, correct me if I’m wrong, but the hardest thing you ever did was stop Acathla, right?” You had to kill Angel and send him to hell, you left home shattered, and lost; Joyce told me a bit about that. Would all that be accurate?

Buffy was upset. It was true that sending Angel to hell, that whole year really, and running away, was devastating. It was almost more than she could bear, and even now the trauma was still painful. “Yeah, that’s true, but I don’t see…”

“Hush pet, listen.” Take those memories, all that pain, all that loss and remember it all, hold onto it now. It was one event, just one. With me still? Buffy nodded. Now take all that and multiply it all at once by ten events equal to that, all at once. “Still think you could handle it.”

Buffy thought about it, really thought about. She took a long time to analyze what he was saying. Tried to get some perspective. She looked back up at him.

“If what your saying is true, than no I wouldn’t be able to handle it, no one could.”

“Thanks for understanding, pet.”

“How come you can handle it then?”

“Who says I can?”

Buffy closed her eyes to think. Unconsciously she shifted position, her arms moving down to rest on Spikes back, opening her thighs a bit wider for comfort. Their conversation drifted over her, back and forth; she rested for a long time. Later her eyes still closed, she asked, “Why did you beat up Parker?”

Spike stiffened, rousing himself from where he had been drifting, lying in Buffy’s arms. “Git had it coming, soddin’ bastard.”, his voice growing hard.

“You said, you told him, you lay in the arms of a golden goddess, you ascended to heaven embraced by an angel. Did you mean me?

“Wasn’t anyone else around was there?” ‘Not that he’d seen anyway, damn vengeance demons.’

“Did you mean it, what you said?”

“Said a lot of things.”

“Did you mean what you said about me being a golden goddess and an angel, did you mean that?”

Dangerous territory, Spike. This path leads to broken hearts, and broken bones. Bathrooms and souls. “Yeah I meant it, but don’t get your knickers in a twist.” You’re the Slayer, and you’re Buffy. You deserve better than some Lothario wanker. Tosser had no business being with you in the first place or you with him. You’re better than that, and you’re better than him. “So yeah I meant it”

Buffy hugged Spike tightly. She tried not to cry, but being here with Spike, and him defending, her, then and now. She couldn’t help it. Under all the slayer muscles was still a girl. She started to cry. This was wrong; she shouldn’t be crying and seeking comfort from Spike. But he was so easy to talk to, and he just got her, really understood her. He was William and Spike and both were just so comforting. She sobbed quietly.

Spike held her making little soothing noises and stroking her hair. ‘S’alright pet, everythings going to be alright.” Big Bad’s got you, nothing going to hurt you. ‘S’alright.

Her sobs grew quieter and her breathing evened out. “Thank you for beating up Parker, and making him cry.” The peeing on himself was nice to. Thanks for standing up for me.

“My pleasure, kitten.”
Time passed, both content to just hold each other for reasons of their own.

“Do you think I’m really broken inside; that I’ll never get over Angel.”

“I think, pet, that will be up to you.” Angel did a number on you, convinced you that he was your one true love. You’re still young, pet. True love isn’t a fairy tale romance, which is what you’ve built Angel up to be. He was your first love, true; but love, real lasting perfect love isn’t one dimensional. Angel loved you as the Slayer. Someone else may love you as Buffy. But love has to accept both the slayer and the woman. True love accepts the good and the bad, not the ideal version of either. You can find love again, if you open yourself up, and let go. If you hang on to your idealized relationship with Angel, than no, you’ll stay broken, even if you’re with someone else.

“Drusilla said that my true love was made for me, that he was made to be what I deserved.”

Spike stiffened. “What.”

“Drusilla, she said I had to open myself and let myself love him and then I’d be free.”

“She said that.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if Dru said it, it’s gotta to be true; never known her to be wrong.

They settled back down, enjoying just being with each other, ignoring what that might mean.

“Spike.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like kissing me?”

Spike raised his and stared at Buffy. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, her heart in them. She stared back, seeing a storm begin to swirl in their cerulean depths. They took each other in, two lost souls, seeking answers to questions, which neither was prepared to face.

The sound of the surf below crashing against the rocky shore, the flowers and trees the only witness as they observed the legendary couple. Lowering his head, as Buffy raised her own, their lips met.

21
When their lips met, worlds collided. Stars were born in the galaxy, blazing brightly; fire and ice, perfectly balanced. Far above, removed from time and space, yet part of it, beings who held the providence of all universes in their hands, watched as the Chosen and reluctant Champion renewed their dance. Destiny and fate, the fabric of this reality resting in them; they smiled.

Spike had kissed Buffy many times, what with Red’s flubbed spell, the night that dancing demon prat had toddled back to hell, when they’d smashed down that house, and when Cardboard had showed up acting like GI Joe. But it had never been like this. This was real, untainted by spells or the need to flee from ones pain. It was real, and it was magical all the more because of it.

She had never been kissed like this before. Angel’s kisses were poignant and bittersweet; innocent and light. This was powerful, passionate. Spike’s kisses were demanding, but gentle. He gave everything he had inside him with his kiss, held nothing back. Demanded everything from her, but took nothing not given freely. Fire exploded inside her. This was real.

Finally Spike pulled away, allowing Buffy to breathe. Her heart was racing, and his sensitive nostrils inhaled the familiar scent of her arousal. He was drowning in her once more. “Buffy”, he breathed. He was damned. He should have been stronger.

Buffy panted; her eyes on Spikes own. Even in the dim light she could see the blue of his eyes grow darker. This was wrong. She knew it was wrong because it felt so very right. “Spike.”

“Yeah pet, I’m right here.” ‘Here it comes, wait for it’

“We, I, we can’t Spike, this, I’m sorry, it’s….”

‘That’s my girl, fluttering virtue still in place.’ Covering her mouth with his fingers, he said, “S’alright pet, we just got caught up in the moment, happens sometimes.” Bit of moonlight and the baring of souls, tends to make the hormones go a bit wonky. “Don’t fret about it.”

Buffy was torn by desire, he was saying all the right things, he was right she knew, but she was disappointed that it couldn’t be more. She knew once reality set in she’d kick herself, but it felt so right, she just wanted more. There was more to it than lust she was sure, there was an intimacy they’d shared, that she craved. She needed it like air, it brought peace and wholeness. And that was the problem. With all the love that she had shared; with all the love she had given and received with Angel, she had never felt like this. When she and Spike were holding each other, when he was on top of her, nestled between her legs she felt like a woman complete. It was natural; there was no pain, no nervousness, and no self-doubt. Spike made her feel…perfect.

She sat up as Spike lifted himself from her. Reaching she took his offered hand and he pulled her gently to her feet. “Spike, I’m sorry” I don’t know what just happened, I don’t understand but, I can’t, I just can’t. Her voice trembled as tears started to once more feel her eyes. She looked down at the ground; she couldn’t face him or herself. The emotional upheaval was tearing her up, she needed to breathe, think. She felt a finger under her chin and her head moved up to his waiting eyes.

“I’m a vampire; you’re the Slayer, nothing to understand.” Like I said, we got caught in the moment. Nothing bad happened here tonight, no one got hurt. “Let’s get you back to your bed, you need to sleep.” Reaching down, he picked up his duster and wrapped it around her. “Ride back could get chilly, best keep this on.”

As they walked back to Spike’s motorcycle and before he turned it over Buffy said, “Spike, thank you for talking to me.” And thank you for being; better than I expected you could be. Just…thank you.

“Welcome pet.” Hang on.

Spike drove Buffy back to her dorm, her arms fastened around him and her face and body pressed tightly against his back. ‘No one got hurt except me Buffy, always me.’

Buffy held on to Spike tightly trying to seize that closeness they had shared for just a while longer. It would end soon and she wanted to cling to it as much as she could. ‘No one got hurt Spike, but I could if I let myself.’

When Spike pulled up to the dorms, Buffy quickly got off and turned to Spike. “I have to go, Willow’s probably worried and…mmph.”

Spike settled the bike, rose and stood in front of Buffy. As she started to babble, he drew her in, pressing her close and covered her mouth with his own. Buffy’s hands came to his chest as she resisted, then slowly rose and encircled his neck. They stood for hours, days; and kissing each other, loosed the restraints they held and gave in to the feelings coursing through them both. Once more time intervened and they drew away, both panting, still clutching each other.

Buffy’s hands dropped back to his chest, as did her face. Resting her forehead against his hard muscles, she closed her eyes and said softly, “We can’t do that again, you can’t keep kissing me like that.”

Chuckling Spike said, “I know kitten, just wanted the night to end special.” Didn’t want you to think I was the kind of bloke to kiss the girls and make them cry. Thought I’d let you go with a friendly good night kiss. And little miss denial, you kissed me back, as well.

Smiling Buffy replied, “That was more than a friendly kiss, there was tongue action.” And I’m not denying it, I did kiss you back. But that’s the last time, no more Spike I mean it. This was an alternate universe kind of thing. Tomorrow we go back to violently disliking each other. You know normal.

“Think we’re past that by now, pet.” What say we try something different, and just be friends? I’m not going to kill you; you’re not going to kill me. Let’s try being friends.

“Friends are fine, we can do that. I can do that. Friends.

“It’s late, go toddle your skinny arse of to bed.”

“Stop saying my ass is skinny.”

“Fine, then go to bed.”

Sighing Buffy opened her eyes and breathing deeply stepped back from Spike. She turned and headed up the stairs towards the front door. He leaned back against his motorcycle and watched her turn and walk up to her room. She paused at the door and turned back looking at him. Her head dropped as her hand found the door handle. The next thing Spike knew she was running down the steps, his duster billowing behind her. Throwing herself in his arms, she kissed him and quickly hugged him. “Good night Spike.” As swiftly as she came she was gone, disappearing into the building.

‘Well isn’t that interesting’, thought Spike as he raced off towards home.

‘I am so screwed.’ thought Buffy. ‘and not in the good way.’

Buffy entered her room, grateful that it was dark, and made her way to her bed, when the lamp next to Willow’s bed flooded the room with soft light.

“Buffy?”

“Uh, yeah Wills, go back to sleep, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t really asleep, I was waiting for you. Buffy, how come you’re wearing Spike’s coat?” Did he give to you when he apologized?

“How did you know about that?” She noticed then that she was still wearing Spikes’ leather duster. Huh, it was comfy, and wow, it looked really cool on her too, no wonder he liked it. She flopped down on her bed and said, “How did you know Spike apologized?”

“Well Xander and I went to his house today and boy was that a trip to weirdness; anyway we went there to smack him around for being such a poophead to you, and so we were there when Giles made him go apologize to you.

“Giles made him apologize to me, why?” ‘Spike had been forced to?’

“Well he didn’t exactly make him, more nudged him.” They sort of did this whole reserved British, talking without saying anything, thing. Mostly they just stared at each other, way weird; very Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi sort of. Giles made him feel bad about the whole Parker thing, but I think he felt bad before. Which is odd, ‘cause he’s evil and all and really why would he care.

“Uh, huh, wait, GILES KNOWS!” Spike told him about that!

“No Spike didn’t tell him, Anya did”

“He told Anya!”

“No Hallie told Anya, and then Anya blurted the whole thing out in front of me, Xan, Giles, Jonathon and Andrew.” That girl could really use a bucketful of tact dropped on her.

“Who’s Hallie, and Jonathon knows too, wait who’s Andrew?”

“He’s Tuckers brother, remember prom, demon dogs Tucker, he’s his brother.”

“And he’s what again?”

“I don’t know”, said Willow bitterly. We’re on a need to know basis, he’s working for Spike or something. Spike said he’d fill us in tomorrow afternoon, or I guess today afternoon.

“Ok, so Andrew told Anya about Parker, and she told everyone else”

“No Hallie told Anya.” She’s a Justice demon, old friend of Anya’s. Anywho, Anya is a slacker or something so Hallie had to fill in for her since she isn’t a vengeance demon anymore. She was there waiting for you to wish for painful things to happen to Parker and overheard the whole thing.

“I can’t believe Giles knows!” Buffy groaned, covering her face with her hands. She was so not looking forward to seeing him in a few hours. And Spike, that was going to be just a boatload of awkwardness. ‘I can’t believe I kissed him again!’

“You kissed HIM?!” There were smoochies!

‘Damn, I must have said that out loud.’ “Umm, kinda, it was, there were circumstances!”

“Like you fell on him and your lips bumped into each other, or you were jumping him and going for gropage.”

“There was no gropage, and he was on top of me, but not in a gropage kind of way.” It’s complicated.

“Well duh!” Everything involving Spike is complicated, he’s a walking complication. What happened tonight?

“It was, umm, he gave me a flower.” Buffy fiddled in her bag producing the note and flower Spike had given her at the library and then proceeded to fill in Willow on the more salient points of her evening. She left out some things, there was so much to process. She didn’t want Willow to know about Spike being a poet; she was going to keep that a secret, not only for him but herself. It was very romantic to thing about Spike, Slayer of Slayers as a poet. God she was seriously deranged if she thought that was romantic. But she did.

“Oxford, huh.”

“Graduated as head boy, I’m hoping that doesn’t mean anything icky, or you know sexual.”

“It doesn’t.”, said a depressed Willow.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s a disappointing world when the evil undead are way smarter than you.”

“He is smart, isn’t he?”

“Yep, inadequacy thy name is Willow.”

They continued to talk, Buffy relating what she could about Illyria, what little she knew.

“Dragon huh, for real.”

“That’s what he said,”

Willow started giggling. “What’s so funny?” It’s not funny; he got crispy fried by that thing.

“No not that, it’s just, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Spike the Dragon Slayer”, kinda romantic in a Hellmouthy way.” Speaking of which, what about the smoochies?

Buffy sobered a bit and relayed to Willow the nature of that night’s break from reality. She was honest with Willow and shared her feelings leading up to tonight’s tongue fest and the feelings she harbored now. They shared back and forth what it all meant. The two girls commiserated about how:
a.) How nice it was, with lots of good tingly feelings and:
b.)How very wrong it was, with lots of badness to come involving oneself with vampires, no matter how hot they were. And especially vampires without souls. They did not make good boyfriend material.

Willow was stunned when Buffy said she knew that, and so did Spike. They were going to try to be friends, since he was apparently taking a break from evil at the moment. Willow wondered if Spike was having a mid- undead life crisis. Buffy didn’t know, and didn’t care. She liked Professor Giles, and she liked this Spike right now. She was going to be; go with the flow girl, till something changed. Both girls eventually fell asleep, Buffy dreaming of dragon slaying vampires who quoted poetry before making with the passionate kisses. She slept well, curled up in black leather armor that smelled of cigarettes, scotch and him.

When Buffy awoke it was late. She had only a couple of hours before the big meeting at Spikes. Willow had left a note saying she had something to do before the meeting. She would meet Buffy back here and they would go together.

Arriving at Spikes place, Buffy was floored; it was nice, really nice and homey.

“Wait till you see the inside, come on we’re late.”

It turned out the others hadn’t all arrived. Xander and Giles were still on their way. Buffy and Spike avoided each other, without looking like they were avoiding each other. Each stealing glances when the other wasn’t looking. A situation that Willow was acutely aware of. Buffy took the time to wander around, taking in the tasteful art and décor. ‘Needs a woman’s touch’ ‘It’s a little stuffy’ ‘Some throw pillows and brighter colors would help.’ Willow took the opportunity to corner Spike. Reaching into her backpack, she withdrew a small framed object and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your new coat of arms!” I had the Dungeons and Dragons guys whip it up.”

“Cute Red, and why pray tell, do I need a coat of arms?” And these white marks around the field, they would be?

“Well when a knight slays a dragon, he should have a neato coat of arms, don’t ya think?” Those are fangs, very kitchy huh.

“Real cute, told you about that did she.”

“She told me a lot.” Oxford, huh and head boy, can I tell you now how much I think you suck.

“Every chance I get, jealous Red?”

“More surprised, less humbled, well some humbled.”

“I am what I am.” Why don’t you stop making nice and just come right out and say what came over to say.

Willow sobered. “She’s vulnerable right now Spike, and very wigged.” She needs normal, not more angst from a member of the undead club. Just please, stop with the smoochies and feelings stuff. Let her breathe. You’ve got that dangerous sexy bad boy thing going on which Buffy is susceptible to. Her hormones are making her have lusty feelings right now. Don’t take advantage of it. Leave her alone please; let her find a nice normal man. “Please.”

“I’m a nice man, Red.” And so you know, I happen to agree with you. I’m not trying to hurt her. We’re going to be friends. I’ll leave the bint alone. It’ll all work out. ‘Yeah it’s going to be just swell’

“Thanks Spike, I don’t know why your not being such a jerk, but thanks.”

“Right, why don’t you toddle off before we start this thing, go mingle, I got things to do.”

As the others arrived, Spike had Andrew bring out large platters of appetizers, sandwiches, snacks and drinks, which Andrew had spent the morning preparing. Everyone filled their plates and took seats in the oversized living room. Spike sat in an overstuffed chair facing them and began.

“Right, the first time I ran into the Initiative was back in ’42 when Angelus and I were on a secret mission to stop some Nazi blokes.” ‘It’s my story I can embellish if I want to, not like Peaches can say different.’ Spike with the hindsight of Angel dealing with Sailor Boy in the future, had learned that indeed Angel had been recruited by the then still new Initiative. Putting two and two together he realized they had been around awhile and apparently ready to step up their presence. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He explained about the Nazi’s plan to make vampire warriors who would fight the Allies and how the Initiative had brought Angel in to recover the sub, not knowing about the nature of its peril. Spike who had ‘infiltrated’ the Nazi project overtook the sub, making himself captain and allowed Angelus to help him. ‘Wanker made me swim to shore, barely made it before dawn, pillock.’ Then Spike got to the meat of it.

“Been keeping my eye on them for years.” Bad enough the buggering Council of Wankers interferes with demons, but the Yanks doing it to. That’s not cricket. When I got wind of the Initiative setting up shop here in Sunnyhell, I knew I needed to find out what they were up to. Wish I didn’t, because things are buggered up good now. They’re soldier boys are capturing demons, experimenting on them, torturing them, shoving chips into vampire’s heads so they can’t hurt humans. And if my sources are right, and I know they are, the she-bitch who’s running the whole thing has decided to pull a Dr. Frankenstein and make her very own monster, only this one is going to be evil like you can’t believe. So to counter that, myself Giles, Anya and others have decided to stop them. That’s why I’m posing as a professor, mainly so I can keep an eye on the comings and goings of their leader, and prevent any students from getting caught in the crossfire. “Questions?”

As expected several hands rose at once.

“What do Anya, Jonathan, and Andrew have to do with this?”, asked Buffy

“Anya runs and oversees the Ranch, acting as a liaison between the humans and demons involved, which we’ll get to in a minute.” Jonathon is responsible for my personal and private schedule and acts as a go between for Giles, Anya and myself. The boy, Spiked indicated Andrew, is responsible for the computers, communications and technology projects we need.

“What’s the Ranch?” asked Xander

“The Ranch is an underground holding facility where captured soldiers are taken and held by demon guards.” said Spike.

“WHAT!!??” exclaimed Buffy, Xander and Willow at once. “You’re capturing American soldiers and letting demons torture and kill them” I knew it, I knew it was too good to be true, you bastard, you LIED!”, Buffy was shaking with anger; anger at herself for trusting him. She was angry at the pain his betrayal brought her. The kisses, the intimate conversations, it was all a lie. “YOU BASTARD!” She leaped up, wishing she had a stake with her. She’d wipe that lying surprised look off his arrogant beautiful face.

“BUFFY!!! SIT DOWN!! NOW!!” Giles command rang out like a shot, forcing her attention to him. He saw her shaking with anger and hurt. Spike was handling this badly, or they were taking it badly, either way he needed to gain control of the situation. “Sit down, Buffy, you have all obviously misunderstood.” The soldiers we capture are not mistreated in any way, quite the contrary in fact. If you will all be patient, I will explain, why we are doing this, what is going on, and ultimately what our objective is. They turned their attention to Giles, anger and confusion, marking their features.

“The Initiative is capturing and performing brutal, painful acts of torture and experimentation on demons.” By their actions, they are stirring the demon world into a frenzy of chaos. To counter that we are balancing their actions with our own. For every demon they capture, we take one or more of theirs. The soldiers are brought to the Ranch by inducing a magical sleep, rendering them inert. It is painless and far less invasive than the Initiative’s method of sending thousands of volts of electricity through the bodies of their targets which while effective is also extremely painful. To continue; once the soldiers are turned over to Anya and her team, they are stripped, their belongings returned to the Initiative along with a note designed to demoralize the remaining soldiers. They think their comrades are dead, and dying for a cause that is meaningless to them. It will eventually be an effective strategy. After they are processed, each soldier is dressed in comfortable clothing and placed in a very tasteful dorm room, either alone or one other captive. The rooms are equipped with private showers, television, comfortable beds and chairs and so on. They are bright, cheery places, but it a prison nonetheless. They receive three regular meals a day. The food is prepared from them by a gourmet chef, of sorts, and they also have access at any time to a full size recreation room containing a complete gym, oversized TV and so forth. Furthermore when they initially awaken, they are seen by Dr. Tlkekby, who happens to be a demon, where she, at great cost to herself, removes the toxins that are killing them. The leader if the Initiative has been infusing their bodies, without their knowledge by the way, they think they are merely taking vitamin supplements; with muscle enhancers, and other poisons. While this makes the soldier stronger, able to endure more pain, and increases their speed, it is destroying their bodies. It is also highly addictive, and much like a heroin addict, if they don’t receive their daily “vitamins”, their body goes into shock and they die. Dr. Tlkekby prevents that from happening. They are well fed and well cared for. Period.

Spike spoke up now, “In contrast the demons at the Initiative Complex are locked in cold sterile cages.” Packets of blood laced with poisons and sedatives are dropped from the ceiling. They are dragged out at any time to be mutilated, tortured or altered. If they, die, too bad, can always go bag another one. Spike’s voice was grim; he was still upset about Buffy’s outburst. “Make no mistake, people we, the ones who have signed on, are at war with the Initiative. Their will be casualties on both sides. By taking the actions we have, we are putting ourselves in a position to minimize those casualties. We’re trying to save demons and humans and keep this from turning into a full blown firefight. If this cauldron bursts, humans and demons are going to start slaughtering one another and good ole Sunnydale is going to be ground zero. The demons understand this and are doing their part. Ball rests in the Initiatives court. Now you know, choose a side.

They sat silently, Buffy most of all. She needed to think this through, and figure out Spikes part in it. She needed time. Xander didn’t.

“Why are we interfering at all, their demons, who cares.” If the good ole US of A wants to kill them, I say fine, let them; one less demon to go munch on a kid.

“I kinda agree with Xander, Giles. They’re killing demons, how can that be bad?

“That’s awfully tolerant and understanding of you Rosenberg”, sneered Spike, accenting her name.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Nothing at all, Red, just seems you out of all these people might have a bit more philosophical view.” Not too many years ago, a great lot of humans had no problem doing the same thing. They were just Jews, after all, who cared, they were basically demons in their eyes. Being mutilated, tortured, experimented on, killed in mass groups. What difference did it make, they weren’t human anyway. They were just Jews. Good riddance.

Willow was stunned, shocked speechless. Her eyes widened as what Spike had said began to sink in. “It’s not the same at all.” American soldiers aren’t Nazi’s!

“Pet, Nazi’s weren’t Nazi’s.” I was there, remember. There isn’t a whit’s worth of difference between a boy plucked off the farm in Iowa who loves his country, trained and convinced that what he’s doing is patriotic, and carrying out the orders that he was given, and one from Düsseldorf. Don’t make either one of them bad or evil, just stupid for not having the brains to question anything. Nazi’s were regular people, just like the Whelp sitting there, doing what they had been convinced was right. Problem was those doing the convincing were evil, sadistic, power hungry fucks, and those listening were poor, desperate and angry. That’s the way it was. Those Yank soldiers were holding aren’t bad, or evil, they’re following orders, convinced they’re saving the world.. Hopefully, if we do our job right, we’ll give then perspective and they’ll start to think for themselves. Their leaders, the she bitch giving the orders, is the worst kind of evil though, her, she gets no mercy.

“What do you mean worst kind?”, asked Buffy quietly.

Spike stared at her a moment. “She’s the worst kind, because like so many others before her, she is a woman wielding great power, filled with hubris and who is convinced that she's absolutely morally justified in her actions, no matter the consequences. She’s evil, because she’s positive that her goals are so righteous that the method and means she employs to achieve them aren’t. Remember this kiddies, and remember it well. If you’re going to play in the devils sandbox and use his toys, expect to get dirty and beat up.

They all sat absorbing all they had learned. The question on all their minds, the same, ‘What now?’ Spike answered it for them. “Meetings adjourned then, I got things to do, unless there is anything else.”

Xander looked over at him, “Ok, what now?” We’re obviously a part of this. I don’t like it but, you make sense. I’ll help.

Spike was a bit surprised at Xander’s admission. “Might be some hope for the boy yet’ “Well then it’s like this. You lot are to stay away from the Ranch. The only human they see besides themselves is Anya, there’s a reason, plus I don’t want them to be able to identify you. Willow you’ll have partial access to the facility along with Jonathon and Andrew. You are now head of Special Projects. I’ll meet with you later to go over the details. Anya will arrange for cell phones for each of you. Anya, give them expense accounts, and credit cards. You lot coordinate with Giles and Anya. Whelp, you need to get a job, be as normal as possible so you don’t draw any attention. Anya set him up in construction, that’s nice and normal for his age. I remember you got yourself a little military training back in the good old days, when Buffy dressed as a proper Victorian lady. You’re now head of security and military operations. Your going to like dealing with the Fyrals, they’re going to love you. That’s it then for now. Don’t bug me, or approach me unless it’s an emergency. Watcher is running the show anyway.

As Spike walked out of the room Buffy’s voice halted him, it was soft, but tinted with anger, “What about me Spike, where do I fit in the big world saving picture?”

Looking at her, still smarting from when she lashed out at him, he said grimly, “You already have a job, you’re the Slayer. You don’t need to be or do anything, but be yourself. This whole thing is about you. It’s always been about you, pet. What the hell do you think we’re fighting for?

Buffy stared at Spikes as he went upstairs. ‘What are we fighting for Spike’ “What is all this’ ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.’

The full moon began to rise and a boy felt the primal forces within him reach out to another. For the first time he was inundated by the feral, visceral need to understand more, be more; seek more from another of his kind. Across campus a blonde vampiress who specialized in mental torture, inflicting humiliation and endowed with a legendary callousness and viciousness, even before she was turned, fell to the ground as tazers entered her body. Silent forms gathered her and drug her away. It was to be quiet soon, so very quiet

Willow was lost; Oz was gone. She knew that he needed to find himself, learn to control the beast that raged within, but it was so hard. She had her schoolwork and her friends but it was hard. She also had her extracurricular activities. Spike had been unusually kind to her about Oz leaving. He had even held her while she cried. Buffy was right, he was a good listener and holder, minus the kissing of course. He had promised her as he looked sincerely in her eyes, that this would pass and that love, new, undiscovered, but real, would find its way to her. She almost believed him; she wanted to. As head of Special Projects, which was a way cool title she thought; she was responsible for developing weapons and hardware that could be used in an upcoming battle if their plans failed. Spike assured her that he was interested in noon-lethal weaponry, which would incapacitate the humans, not kill them. She worked with Jonathon and Andrew, both very adept at the computer and sciencey stuff. Spike did insist on one project that top priority, and that was a portable laser as powerful as they could make it. He also wanted her to see if there was anyway to nullify a uranium power source. He didn’t explain why. Willow was grateful for the opportunity to put her formidable mind to the tasks ahead, rather than think about Oz. She did though, a lot. Spike, thru Anya made sure she had whatever resources she might need. The lab that was built for the three of them was incredible. She never saw the holding facilities at the Ranch, but she had access to all the rest, as the lab was located there. It was strange and scary being around so many demons, but they left her alone. She did like Clem. He stopped by often with various foods for them to try from his cousin. Willow worried about getting fat. Time went by.

Harmony awoke to bright light and pain. Her head throbbed. Looking around, she saw she was in a sterile room, devoid of furniture. She moved towards the door, but was repelled by an electrical barrier of some kind. She was trapped. Harmony remained there for five days, another vampire warning her about the drugged blood that fell from the ceiling in packets. She was subjected to tests of heat, cold, crosses, holy water. Her skin burned. She was given gynecological exams to determine how her sexual organs functioned when dead. The snickering soldiers present during all of them. They enjoyed stripping her. She was never raped, they wouldn’t go that far. But they always found a way to fondle, or brush up against her. She lay in her cell and cried. When a technician inadvertently released her by accident, she ran. She fled the sterile, cold quarters and ran, twisting and turning, always up to get away. Eventually the stars loomed above her. Running still, she cried in relief. She was free, and they would pay. She needed help and answers though. She knew who might have them. They’d never gotten along before, but maybe both being girls, they could come to an understating. She hadn’t bitten her that hard anyway. The fight with Xander didn’t go as planned, when searing pain wracked through her brain. She ran again. She needed answers. Xander needed to find Buffy.

Buffy and Spike were cordial to each other, the little they interacted. There was class of course, where Buffy once more resumed her place in class; third row aisle, left side. And Spike would occasionally run into her while going about his secret agent business. It was nice. They were friends. There were no more kisses. They both pretended everything was fine, and it was.

Unfortunately Buffy was a very pretty girl and drew the eye of a great many young men, and one Riley Finn in particular. She intrigued him, though he couldn’t quite place why. There was just something about the girl in question. He had seen and spoken to her a few times in his role as Maggie’s teaching assistant. As a trained commando, he relied on the skills he had been trained for. He gathered intel on her friends, prepared an interrogation script and made tactical plans to seek her out. His conversation with a depressed Willow was awkward, but he must have gotten through, because at the end she perked up and gave him some vital information about the targets interests and known locations. He apparently had passed the best friends approval phase of the operation. He prepared himself to confront her at tonight’s party.

A depressed Willow and a perky Buffy arrived at the party trying to have some fun. Buffy had dragged a protesting Willow there over objections about laser calibration tests and Special Projects needing to be overseen.

“You can take a night off, Wills.” We need to be here, doing something normal; come on it’ll be fun.

“Fine Buffy.” Willow plastered on a smile and promptly found a seat to disappear in. She watched Buffy mingle around the room.

“Hi Willow, you feeling better?”

“Riley, oh I’m fine, just hanging out.” Hey Buffy’s here so why don’t you go get acquainted.

“Sure I’ll just go talk to her.”

“That’s a good way to get to know each other, talking is good.”

Riley made his way to Buffy and they began to talk, awkwardly. Riley was nervous. So was Buffy. Riley was cute and nice, but there just wasn’t any sparkage there. It bothered her that a really great guy was talking to her, but he didn’t have blue eyes, and razor sharp cheekbones. She concentrated on what he was saying. Riley Finn was just fine, sparkage was nice, but there were other things to consider. Brown eyes were perfectly acceptable. A hand on her shoulder and Xander’s voice snapped here out of her reverie.

“Sorry Buff, gotta little Harmony situation.’ Think you need to go have a chat with her.”

“Great just what I need.” Riley, I’m sorry I have a friend who needs to be sta…talked to. I’ll see you later.

Riley’s pager along with several others in the room, began to go off. “Sure I need to run to.” It was nice talking to you.

“Same here, bye.”

“He seems nice.” ,queried Xander “Nice normal college guy and all.”

“Yeah he is.”

“You should maybe go out with him sometime.”

“Maybe, just not in a really dating type place right now.” We’ll see.

Buffy sat outside on a secluded bench waiting for Harmony to appear. God Harmony was a pain in the ass. For a fledgling, she was awfully annoying. She was startled when Riley appeared. After both trying to get rid of one another, they eventually went there separate ways. Buffy was annoyed that Riley had inadvertently interfered with her plans to draw out Harmony. She hoped he didn’t get eaten being out here alone. Riley was relived that he had saved Buffy. It was dangerous out here, she could have been hurt. It was to be the theme of their upcoming relationship.

Harmony asked around and finally was able to locate Willow’s room. Knocking on the door, she was grateful to hear a “come on in” from Willow. Harmony opened the door and flung herself at Willow. Willow screeched waiting to be bitten again.

“Oh thank God Willow, you have to help me.” Harmony was sobbing and clinging to the redhead.

‘Is every vampire I know insane or just plain weird.’ “Harmony what is the matter with you!” She couldn’t fathom what the hysterical blonde was doing here in the first place.

“They hurt me Willow, and touched and groped me; and not all of them were cute even.”, sobbed Harmony. In disjointed hysterical sentences she told Willow how she had spent the last week. When the lights went out they both screamed, even though Harmony was perfectly capable of seeing in the dark.

Buffy battled the commandoes, knowing that they were the ones involved, pissed that they were attacking Willow. It was confusing with the darkness and, smoke but she got several shots in, rescuing Willow which had been her intention. Later, after speaking with Willow she discovered that Harmony had obviously been captured and abused by the Initiative and had escaped. Since she apparently didn’t know anyone in Sunnydale, she decided Willow might be able to help her. Buffy tried to feel sorry for, and she did a little, but Harmony!? God could life be any more strange. At least Thanksgiving was coming soon.

“What do you mean no Thanksgiving!?”

“I’m sorry Buffy, but your Aunt Phyllis is sick so Dawn and I are going there for Thanksgiving so she won’t have to travel.” Joyce was busily preparing to leave and while she knew Buffy was upset, she didn’t have time to spare if they were to make their plane. “Dawn, hurry up we’re leaving soon!”

“Why can’t I go with you then?”

“Because you’re needed here and there isn’t enough room at your aunts” Buffy I’m sorry, I really am and I promise to make it up with you at Christmas. Your and adult now, you’ll just have to muddle through this on your own. Why don’t you spend the holiday with Giles?

“He’s British Mom, they don’t do Thanksgiving.” Fine, abandon me, I’ll figure something out.

“Don’t be melodramatic Buffy, its one Thanksgiving out of your life, you’ll survive.” DAWN!

“Well of course I’d like to spend Thanksgiving with you, but I’m afraid I’ll be at my NEPHEWS house this year”. Your welcome to join us, Will would love to have you over. The address is 117 Merrimac Lane. Why don’t you go over there RIGHT NOW and see if he needs anything brought.

“Giles what are you talking about, I don’t want to see Sp...!” Buffy’s mouth was covered by Giles hand and was escorted to the door.

“Of course you do, tell him I’ll see him later and make sure he sets a place for everyone else.” Xander and Willow will join us as will Anya I’m sure. Run along now.

Buffy stared at the closed door, mouth open. ‘What the hell is his problem?’ ‘Oh well, I’ll go to Spikes, his place is nicer anyway.’

.”Angel, while I appreciate your concern for Buffy’s welfare, this is ill advised.” We can take of anything that may arise. ‘Damn Wesley for not being able to talk Angel from coming here.’

“Doyle had a vision Giles that Buffy was in danger, I need to be here.”

“I can assure Angel, that Buffy will be fine, please you should return to Los Angeles.” It will hurt Buffy a great deal if she learns you’re here.

“I can’t Giles.” I’ll stay hidden, but I am staying until I’m sure she’s alright.

‘God help us all when Spike finds out, they are going to kill each other.’

Xander liked construction. He was outdoors, made good money and he was never in better shape. He decided that for a secret identity it was pretty cool. He’d never admit it to Deadboy Jr. but he was very glad that he had been included in this little operation. The first time he met with the Fyrals and Clem freaked him out to no end. But Anya was there and acting as translator, they actually got along fairly well. The Master had told them to obey him and they would. Clem once he got to know him was cool too for a demon. They found they both enjoyed chessy genre shows like “Knight Rider” and spend a few pleasant evenings kicking back in the kitchen at the Ranch with Phil discussing it. Life wasn’t bad, unless you counted falling on your ass down a big hole and getting sick.

Harmony ran, she was being chased again. She needed to find someplace safe. Willow was a bust since the soldiers had broken up their bonding moment. As she ran she opened herself up to the niggling feeling in her mind that had been bothering her for days. Her demon was new, but as she concentrated, things became clear. There was a powerful, no two powerful ones of her kind and they were close. If she could get to one of them maybe they would help her. She hadn’t spent very much time around other vampires but at this point she had no choice. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t keep running, she needed help. Maybe a Master would help her. She ran.

Arriving at Spike’s she invited herself to a tousled haired, just awoken William or Spike, he wasn’t wearing the glasses, it was hard to tell. She tried to concentrate and pretended that he wasn’t bare-chested. ‘God he has nice muscles’ ‘I wonder what they feel like or taste like.’ ‘STOP IT!’ ‘Friends don’t lick each others chests and run their hands over said chests.’ ‘We’re friends’

‘Whenever you’re done drooling, Slayer, could you get to the point of this little visit.”

“I wasn’t drooling, you pig, geez put on a shirt when you have company.” Oh yeah why I’m here, we’re all coming here tonight for Thanksgiving. Since your graciously hosting, I’ll do all the cooking. Oh you’re buying the food to, since you can afford it. And the wine, since you’re older than dirt and I’m under twenty-one. That’s why I stopped by, I’ll be back later.

“Oi, Slayer what the bloody hell are you talking about!” You and your little Scooby gang aren’t invading my lair for some soddin’ holiday!

“First of it’s a nice house not a lair, and yes we are, deal.” I gotta run.

“Wait, what the hell do you I get out of this!”
“Nothing, it’s a nice thing to do, so do it.” Why what do you want out of it?”

“Well pet, wouldn’t fuss much if you was to whip your top off so I could ogle YOUR goods,” he leered.

Marching over Buffy popped him in the nose, “Don’t be a pig Spike!” She marched off, then changing her mind, ran back, threw her arms around his neck and stuck her tongue down his throat. “That’s all you get bleach boy, I’ll see you in a couple hours, bye.” She raced off to go shopping. She really loved her expense account. Spike was going to be pissed though when he got the bill for her new Jimmy Choo’s. ‘He has got to stop kissing me!’

Buffy was sidetracked from her Thanksgiving plans when Willow called her on her spanking new cell phone, ‘thanks Spike’, and informed her that there were strange doings at the Cultural Center. Heading over there, she and Detective Rosenberg, examined the clues, ‘eww who has an ear fetish’, and determined that the cause of death was the result of a missing Chumash spear. They called for backup. Giles told them to stop acting like Nancy bloody Drew and get back to his place to research. Buffy and Willow bumped into Riley on the way, and Buffy invited him to spend Thanksgiving with them. He was heading home to Iowa, but thanked her for the offer.

“What the hell are you doing, here are you evil!” Willow had gone to get coffee and goodies so they could have a proper research session and bumped into a skulking Angel.

“I am not evil, why does everyone think I’m evil.” I’m here to look after Buffy, a source told me she’s in danger. ‘Uh oh, if Spikes finds out they’re going to kill each other.’

“She’s fine, no problems here at all, you can go back to LA.” Nice to see you, glad you’re not evil! Willow ran back to Giles chanting ‘not good, not good.’

Buffy arrived back at Spike’s to find him dressed, thankfully, and Giles already there. She informed them that the Chumash demon had killed Father Gabriel already, and asked Spike where his chafing dish was. Spike began drinking, Giles joined him. Willow arrived soon after, bearing books, outlining how the Chumash Tribe was peaceful until the white man came and acted very un-PC to them. Willow and Giles began a heated debate over the unfair situation. Spike stayed out of it this time, he was busy drinking. He heard a large crash in the kitchen and leaped from his chair to find out what the hell that silly bint was doing.

As soon as he left, Willow and Giles informed each other of running into Angel. They both agreed. “They’re going to kill each other.”

Anya arrived, she had agreed to give Xander a lift to Spike’s. After taking one look at the boy, Spike announced that the Whelp had syphilis and that he’d warned him about dallying with sheep. Xander took a swing, but was to worn out to put much effort in it.

When the doorbell rang next, the party changed in a hurry. A bedraggled Harmony stood before them pleading to be let in.

“It’s my house you stupid bint, you don’t need an invite.” What the hell are you doing here?

“Some mean men grabbed me and groped me too, and now when I try to eat anyone, my head explodes, I need help!”

It wasn’t that Spike liked Harmony very much, he didn’t. She was fun to shag sure, but she was an idiot. But from deep within him, whether it was the soul or an empathy born from being in the same position, he had to help her. She was sure to be a pain in the ass, and he would pay for it later, but he just couldn’t abandon her, not like this. She had taken the bullet meant for him and he felt guilty. “Alright pet, come on in, lets get you something to eat, you’re all skin and bones.” It’ll be alright.

Buffy was floored. Willow had explained what had happened, and knowing what the Initiative had done to her, made her feel a little sorry for her, but Spike was being extra nice to her and inviting her in. She was a tramp, a skanky ho-bag, the biggest in fact and Spike, HER SPIKE was being nice to her!

“What are you doing, you can’t invite her in.” Buffy yelled.

“Can and will, luv.” She’s starving and scared, can’t rightly not offer a helping hand, and I’m not going to let those bastards have another go at her. Demon-girl call the Doc, have her come over and remove the tracer they probably shoved in her. I don’t want them tracking her here. Anya left to call and made arrangements to pick her up. Clem said he’d bring her, it would be faster.

Buffy stormed back into the kitchen and began mashing, really mashing potatoes. She did not like Harmony and she really didn’t like Harmony here with Spike. It was a situation that was to fester between the two for a long time. Spike had to help her, and couldn’t tell Buffy why, and Buffy saw red every time she saw the two of them together. It was Xander who eventually fixed the whole thing, but that took time and some unusual circumstances to come about.

Willow and Xander left with Anya to go speak to the Dean of UC Sunnydale as it was determined he was a potential of the vengeful Chumash spirit. They were met with less than an enthusiastic response, from the dean and his wife. On the way back to Spike’s they ran into Angel, literally, as Anya’s little convertible plowed into him making a right turn towards Spike’s neighborhood. After comparing notes they realized that the Spirit was going to go after Buffy. Angel told them they had to get to Giles nephew’s house. Xander looked at him strangely and as his eyes widened, he realized Angel didn’t know about Spike. ‘They’re going to kill each other, I hope I’m well enough to watch.’

Dr. Tlkekby arrived with Clem and Phil, who immediately threw Buffy out of the kitchen, while the doctor and Clem took Harmony upstairs and removed the tracer embedded in her shoulder.

All hell broke loose when the war party arrived. Buffy and Spike along with Giles dodged arrows and fought. The fight moved outdoors quickly so Spike’s house suffered minimal damage. Spike dove atop Buffy taking an arrow in the back. Buffy screamed and rolled him over. She grabbed the arrow yanking it out and running her hands over his back tried to find where he was hurt. The Gem of Amara had its uses, thought Spike. “S’alright, pet all mended up, no worries now”

“I saw it hit you, I pulled it out, you should be dust!”

“Missed the heart pet, was lucky.”
“Why did you do that, you could have been killed.” Buffy was shaking with adrenalin and panic. She thought he was dead or deader.

“Would it have been better if it had been you?” “I’m fine, your fine, no need to fuss pet.” Bear

“What!?”

“Bear love, gotta kill the bear”

It was then that Anya pulled up and that’s when the real hell broke loose. Angel, Xander and Willow joined the fight briefly, knocking Indian braves down and ducking from clubs. At once they all vanished as Buffy sunk the Chumash knife she had retrieved into the bear. The fight was over, the big one was about to begin, its aftermath would leave everyone shaken, some more than others.

Buffy turned to Spike to check on his injury, flummoxed at how he wasn’t hurt. As she reached forward to touch him a black blur raced past her barreling into Spike, rocketing him away. In all the confusion she hadn’t noticed Angel’s participation or arrival. The others had. Gathering on the front porch to check on each others injuries, they all turned to Buffy’s shout. As one they all said, “They’re going to kill each other.” Xander was at a loss to who to cheer for, Deadboy or Deadboy Junior.

Bloody hell, Peaches, that’s all I need. He knew that at this point, he and Angel despised each other, their enmity stretching back decades. While he and Angel had patched some things up during his stay in Los Angeles, that wasn’t the case here. Oh well, he didn’t have a huge problem kicking the piss out of the poof. He hadn’t had a good brawl since the dragon. Plus he had the Ring, not that he’d need it. Daddy’s little boy was all growed up. Spike grinned, put on his game face and came in swinging.

For Angel this was his moment. There were few more deadly creatures than Spike. His obsession with killing Slayers, Buffy in particular had been the reason he was sent here. He’d save Buffy and even though it would be just as hard for her as it was to him, she’d see that he had once more been there to save him. Growling, his demonic visage pushing forward, he leaped into the fray. Time for another lesson from your betters, boy.

Giles ran down and grabbing Buffy’s arm halted her before she jumped between them. “Buffy stay out of this, they need to get this out of they’re system.” You’ll only get hurt or get one of them hurt. Come on Buffy. He took her back to the porch with the others whose attention was fixated on the two black clad warriors tearing each other apart.

The heavy thuds of their blows landing on each other reverberated across the front lawn. They were hitting each other hard enough that if they were made of concrete or wood they would have shattered. They held nothing back, going all out. This was a battle of dominance, even if Angel didn’t quite know that. He assumed that Spike was fighting for pride and his own defense. He was wrong, Spike fought for her, always her, and he wasn’t going to lose. Then the taunts began. To the observers, it was bestial dance. The raw power, grace and skill exhibited by the combatants was fascinating. They were beautiful and terrifying to behold. Buffy wanted them to stop so she could kick both their asses.

The fight degenerated from there; it became vicious, neither one giving an inch. In the end, Spike’s superior skills and anger one out and he pinned Angel into the ground, grinding his face into the grass. “You had enough Peaches.”

“Get off me boy!”

“Not till you calm down.” What the hell do you think you’re doing coming to a man’s home when he’s about to sit down with his friends and share a bit of conversation and dinner?”

“What the hell are you talking about!”

“We was about to have Thanksgiving dinner, till you and the bloody Indians showed up”.

“You’re British you stupid idiot, you don’t even celebrate American holidays.”

“Celebrating this one, you ready to start acting like the souled poofter you are instead of a savage?”

“Fine” Spike got up and helped Angel to his feet. Still holding his hand he clocked him the face once more

“You owe me a new fountain, you bloody pillock!” Angel had ripped it up and bashed it across Spike sending him sprawling.

Angel glared at Spike and was about to hit him again when his eyes widened in surprise. He stood gaping at Spike, immobile in shock.

‘Bloody fuck, forgot about that’

The fight had moved closer to the porch. All eyes were focused on the pair as a silent signal passed between the two. Their entire demeanors changed. They stood completely immobile, gazes locked. To Buffy and the others it was the first time they appeared truly as the otherworldly creatures they were, rather than the animated men who walked among them. They’re game faces shed as the fight ended; it was Angel who broke the silence.

“How” It was a command rather than a question.

“Demon in Africa.”

“When”

Spike paused and said to Angel, “in Italia”, indicating he wished to change the language they were speaking. He knew Giles and likely Anya would be able to understand, but they already knew his secrets. Buffy and Willow he knew did not speak the language.

The others on the porch stared in confusion, save three as Spike and Angel talked.

“Not important.”

“What do you mean.”

“Ask Wesley, he can explain it, he knows.”

“Wesley knows you have a soul”

“Among other things.”

“Was it a curse.”

“No I earned it, fought a series of trials for it, its permanent.”

“Why did you do it.”

Spike paused for a long moment, “I did it to be a better man, to be what she deserved.”

“Who”

“Who do you think, Peaches”

“Buffy, its Buffy”

“Got it one.”

“You don’t deserve her”

“I know, that’s why no one knows about the soul except Giles and Anya” Why cause confusion.

“Tell me everything William”

“Stay for dinner, after I’ll tell you everything”

“Fine, but I want to know more now, why didn’t you come to me, I could have helped”

“Was private, not your business.”

“What do you mean two years from now”

“An ancient demon queen, brought me back here, to this time after you and half of LA was wiped out about four years from now.” I was with you when you died, we we’re fighting off the hordes from hell. Wes can fill you in about your part in all this.

“Why here.”

“This was where she was.”

“Where was she before.”

“In Italy, shagging the Immortal”

THE IMMORTAL!!!

Everyone jumped as Angel yelled it out. He cast his eyes upwards looking at Buffy horrified.

“She didn’t love you anymore, and she thought I was dead, I hate it as much as you, but thats it”

“Why did she think you were dead?”

“The last time she saw me I was using my soul channeled through an amulet, provided by you by the way, as I defeated the First and closed the Hellmouth.” Sunnydale was completely destroyed and the Hellmouth closed permanently. When I was brought back, don’t know how or why, I couldn’t go to her, she deserves better than the likes of us. Had I known she was gonna go off and shag the Immortal, I would have been there in a flash.

“So basically Will, you were displaced from your time four years in the future, have a permanent soul which you fought for and won, are so much in love with Buffy that you died for her, and are here now to what?”

“Something like that Peaches, and I’m here to protect them, Buffy and the others.” I have a chance to stop some very bad things from happening.” Buffy won’t die, The Whelp won’t lose his eye and his girl, Red won’t go insane, Glinda won’t die, nor will Joyce. I’m here to change the future, so they’ll have a better one.

“And for yourself?”

“Nothing Angel, nothing.” This is hell for me, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, no reward, nothing. I get to suffer, so they won’t have to.

“This is too much William; we need to talk, with a lot of whiskey.”

“Right there with you, mate.” We done here, the kiddies are going to get worried. Let’s go eat and we’ll chat later.

They stood facing each other acknowledging the profound changes that would occur between these dark warriors. Breaking eye contact, they headed up the stairs as all eyes stayed on them.

“Oi knock it off, Peaches and I just had to work some stuff out, it’s all good now.” Let’s eat. Throwing his arm around Angel, they walked into the house where Phil had already laid out dinner. They all sat, including Clem, Phil, Dr. Tlkekby and Harmony. It was the strangest Thanksgiving. They would ever spend. Eventually the mood lightened as the delicious food was consumed.

No one noticed that Xander remained unusually silent. Something he had never shared, not to Willow or Buffy, Giles, anyone was his fluency in Italian. His grandmother, the only relative he had that truly cared for him, had taught him her language since he was a child. It was a secret he guarded jealously, private because it belonged to the two of them alone. It was the one decent thing he had of his family. Xander ate his meal, but it tasted like ashes. Spike had fought for and won his soul. He loved Buffy enough to die for her. He came back from the future to save them from pain and suffering, himself included. He would bare pain and suffering of his own to do it. He ate slowly, trying to find order in the chaos of his mind. Spike had a soul and he loved Buffy enough to die for her.

“THE IMMORTAL!!!”, Angel said again staring at Spike mid way through the meal.

“Yep, I’ve found massive amounts of whiskey helps.”

“Really?”

“No.”
 

Return to Bloodshedverse Home
 Use scroll bars to see reviews