Hiya, everyone. My name’s mikim and for the first time, I’m trying my hand at the Spike/Buffy fandom. Anyway, as usual, everybody belongs to their rightful owners.
Let me know what you think. Please.
Drop me a line at http://www.livejournal.com/users/mikimchan/ or here mikimchan@hotmail.com
Thank you!

LIE TO ME

Chapter 1. Sinner and Demons.

Spike started at the sound of rasp knocking on his door. Blinking quickly then frowning, the vampire quickly stood up and walked up to the door, wondering who it could be. He quickly dismissed the Slayer: the chit never knocked. As did her precious gang.

Just as he turned the knob open, Spike realized that there was no smell and that he hadn’t actually heard anything or anyone coming up to his door but it was already too late: he had already gotten the door wide open.

But it was the sight that greeted him that rattled his nerves and prevented him from reacting to the fist that aimed to his temple, knocking him effectively out.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Buffy was bored. Way beyond bored. Nothing was happening. Not one tiny newly raised vamp, not even a Fyarl or some other demons she couldn’t name. They all were probably tucked in their beds while the Big Bad Slayer wandered aimlessly in cemeteries, she thought as she sighed again.

As she strolled leisurely in the cemetery, the Slayer let her mind wander to her current situation: the Scoobies all knew about Dawn, and so did Dawn, no thanks to the Bleached Wonder.

Buffy silently fumed against Spike, but the worst thing, she guessed was he had been right: she should have told Dawn about her connection to Glory. Buffy sighed and kicked a peddle, sending it flying away.

Dawn had been moody and cranky these last days and frankly, who could blame her. Her mother kept telling her to let Dawn alone, that she should figure things out for herself first, and more realize that Buffy and their mother truly loved her.

Buffy sighed again as she mulled over the quantities of memories she had of Dawn. She still had difficulty sometimes to accept that those memories were fake.

She could almost still taste that god-awful cake Dawn had made when she had first tried to cook. And she could remember the gut wrenching scream Dawn had let go of when the neighbourhood bully had stolen her bike. Memories, memories. If those were fake, then what was real?

Buffy sighed again and rubbed her forehead: she was giving herself a headache.

Lazily focusing on her surroundings, the Slayer gave a last quick glance around her before turning her feet back to her place. Enough of wandering around for the night, her mother was right, they had to keep smothering Dawn with love, while not crowding her. Still, she just knew the little brat had stolen her blue sweater.

A flash of surreal white attracted her eyes, and Buffy sharply turned to her left, letting her instinct take over, barely avoiding the punch aimed to her head.

“Spike!” She yelled, outraged as she regained her footing.

The vampire, oddly enough, didn’t smirk or didn’t give her any of his usual crude comments, and instead launched another attack.

Buffy avoided the first punches and stopped some but Spike’s punches were too fast for her that night. Buffy suddenly felt panic rise in her chest, her blood was humming in her body and the Slayer let her movement fly to meet those of the Vampire.

“Spike!” She yelled again, as she crunched down to avoid his kick. “What the hell are you doing?” Spike again didn’t answer and that was when it hit her: the chip.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed as Spike squared a punch to her jaw. Buffy barely felt it as her mind reeled from the shock of chip less Spike.

The stupid thing had yet to play its part and actually melt the vamp’s brain. Or, Buffy thought, what is going to be left of his brain, after I’m through with him!

Rage flooded her: how could Spike dare to come and seek her out! Didn’t she have enough problems already? No, the Bleached Wonder add to top things up somehow! And how do you top a skanky god? Easy, go back to the blood sucking fiend that you were!

“How did you get the chip out, Spike?” She asked him harshly as she picked herself up, after he had thrown her over a tomb.

It didn’t surprise her that he didn’t answer, but the fact that Spike had managed to get the chip out worried her. As she avoided his kicks and punches and launching some of her owns, her mind quickly went over what Spike could have possibly done ever since he had learnt he could hurt humans again. And what it meant to her.

Anger and disappointment once again burst in her but she didn’t want to examine the reasons behind them too closely. Spike had been a strange, yet still member of their dysfunctional little family, somehow.

A strange smile suddenly graced Spike’s lips. Almost sad and definitely melancholic, the vampire watched her with some warmth in his blue eyes. And the speed of his attacks increased.

Buffy couldn’t wonder anymore on what Spike could have possibly done. She couldn’t afford to. His speed far surpassed hers and she could barely block his fists.

Suddenly, Spike seemed to become a blur and Buffy was startled to find him behind her, holding her tightly against his chest, her arms prisoners in his.

Forced to look over her shoulder to watch his face, Buffy missed the arrival of her Watcher and friends. But what she saw on Spike’s face mesmerized her: he was gazing down at her, softly watching her face, his weird smile softening the harsh way he was holding her.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.
Earlier that night
.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“Giles! Could you please tell us why, again, we are going to visit the blood sucking fiend? I mean, seriously, since when do we visit blood sucking fiends?”

Giles groaned inwardly as Xander, kept ranting on and on. His fiancée then started to state her none-too happy feelings about being out at that time of the night, without a slayer for back up. It was then Willow’s turn to proclaim that she and Tara could protect them all, probably. And then, Xander started to complain again about why in the first place they were out.

Not only had the boy been insufferable ever since Giles had answered that strange phone call from Spike at the Magic Box, but his whiny voice was grating on the Watcher’s last nerves. But the boy did have a point. Why were they going to Spike’s?

Spike.

Giles tuned out the youngsters’ voices and let worry gnaw at his insides. Had it really been the vampire on the other side of the line? Telling the Watcher he held the Slayer in custody? Demanding the removal of the chip?

The worrying fact was that Giles had yet to hear from Buffy and this was the only reason why, a stake firmly grasped in his right hand and a bottle of holy water in the inner pocket of his vest, that Giles was almost running to Spike’s. It probably was a trap, but what could a chipped vampire do?

It was the uncertainty factor that made Giles hurry his pace again, forcing the others to almost break into a run to catch up with him.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

As the little group finally reached the crypt, Giles frowned at the open door. Signalling the others to keep quiet, he crept silently towards the entrance. Not, Giles thought wryly, that it would matter to Spike and his enhanced hearing.

Peering in the crypt cautiously, Giles let a gasp of surprise as he took in the scene. And the stake clattered on the stony ground of the crypt’s steps.

Giles heard Tara gasped in surprise and Anya’s disgust. He heard Willow inhale sharply in shock and Xander clasp a hand over his mouth, to stop himself from retching, but none of it registered in his mind, as he stared, almost fascinated by the horror of it, at Spike hanging to the ceiling by his wrists.

On the bare chest of the vampire, splattered with blood, someone, something, had violently carved “This one is yours”.

A bloody knife was laying at the vampire’s feet, just out of his feet’s reach, almost glinting in the pool of blood. Giles took a step towards Spike and Xander stumbled in the nearby bush to retch. Someone started to cry.

As he approached, Giles realized the worst: Spike wasn’t unconscious and his tears, running down his cheeks freely, were mingling with the blood running on his chest.

His tormentor had masterfully kept him on the border of unconsciousness and pain. His shoulders were trembling under the strain and as if he had realized someone was in the crypt with him, Spike painfully raised his head. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut and his lower lip was cut.

But it was the look of pure resignation and despair that hurried Giles’s steps. Without further hesitation, Giles pulled the knife he had equipped himself with and walked towards Spike resolutely.

Spike watched him approach with something akin to amusement and slowly closed the only eye that he could. Giles watched him sadly a second, thinking that Spike probably thought he was about to kill him.

But Giles needed answers, he needed to know where was his slayer. And if someone was able to do this to one of the most fearsome vampire, what could he do to his slayer?

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Spike opened his left eye, and peered at what the Watcher was doing. It was bloody taking him too long to cut his head. Even the Whelp could have done it faster!

But the Watcher wasn’t about to help him. He was, with the help of the boy, pushing his only armchair right under him. One of the witches was crying in the arms of the other one and Demon Girl was hugging herself, staring at him with empty eyes. Spike would have laughed if he had been able to.

Then, the Watcher, helped by the boy again, caught him and supported him. The world became a world of pain. Again.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Giles braced himself as he stood under Spike, supporting the vampire’s dead weight. “Easy, now Xander.” He urged. Blood was running down his forearms. “Easy.” Xander was standing on the armchair, the knife in his hand, to cut the tight ropes around Spike’s wrists.

Xander trembled as he brought the knife to the mutilated wrists. The rope had been bind so tightly that it had cut and rubbed the flesh raw. “My God, Giles! His wrists are all…”

Giles didn’t want to imagine the strength necessary to keep Spike under the torture. “Cut the ropes, Xander.” He whispered. “Cut them.” Blood was pooling in his elbows.

Behind the two men, Anya was collecting some bedding to lie Spike on. It just didn’t seem right to let him lay down, in his own blood. “Oh, my God. There is so much blood!”

Even in her demon days, there didn’t seem to be so much blood. Maybe, maybe the soul sometimes did make a difference. Anya shuddered and averted her gaze from the red-tinted floor and reached for the covers and sheets lying haphazardly on the tomb.

Tara was still choking a bit on her sobs and Willow biting her own lower lip urged her girlfriend. “Tara, Baby.” Willow linked their hands and captured Tara’s tears filled gaze with hers. “Help me.” She whispered urgently. “Help me heal Spike faster.” Tara nodded and the witches focused on the broken body being laid down.

Anya directed Giles and Xander as they grunted to get Spike where she had piled all the bedding and clothes, free from blood that she had been able to find in the crypt. “Lay him down. Here. No! Not in the blood, here. Put him here.”

The men complied without a word. They too oddly didn’t want the vampire to lay in his own blood. Even if they knew he probably had done worse to somebody else.

But between the reality of what they saw and what they knew without having to be witnesses, the horror they could all feel at first hand erased for a while the past deeds of the vampire.

Tara approached the vampire cautiously. She was the better of the two witches when it came to healing. Willow was strong but not really tuned in yet with her own body and magic. With a tacit ascent, it was decided that Tara would heal Spike and Willow was to serve as her power source.

Tara knelt by Spike’s head and let her fingers hover gently over his forehead to help him heal faster. Under her power, she felt the internal damages which had been inflected to him, knit together, and slowly start the healing process.

Xander was scrubbing his arms and hands from the blood, his hands shaking so much that Anya had to help him. Mumbling under his breath, he refused to let his gaze fall on the vampire.

Spike was a constant in his life. An annoying constant but a constant nevertheless. Seeing him so diminished reminded Xander sharply of his own mortality. Not a happy subject on the Hellmouth.

As she was the closest to him, Tara saw Spike open his eye and try to tell her something. As she bent her head closer to his mouth, attracting Willow’s attention, Tara heard Spike faintly whisper. “Spike.”

Willow had heard him to and had approached from behind Tara. “What did he say?” She whispered, as if not wanting to spook Spike. Giles had approached as well, his intent gaze focused primarily on Spike.

Spike’s voice was as raw as the rest of his body and he croaked. “Spike. The other. Went after…” A ripple of pain crossed his face and Tara quickly restarted the spell to speed his healing. “Slayer.” Spike breathed and closed his eye.

Giles crouched on the other side of the vampire and shook him lightly, making him moan. Willow was to tell him off, but the urgency of the Watcher’s voice stopped her. “Spike, who did this?”

Spike blinked at Giles, obviously gathering his thoughts and breathed out. “… Me.” This time, when he closed his eye, Giles didn’t prevent him from.

The Watcher didn’t know what to do of the information, or lack of, Spike had given him. If it had been Glory, or her minions, Spike would have known and been able to tell them.

Giles gathered his breath and looked around him: Xander and Anya were huddling together, like two lost children in the storm, Tara and Willow crouched over Spike as they sped his healing were like two fairy godmothers blessing their demoniac child.

But one thing was sure: they couldn’t stay in the crypt, who knew what could come back and more they couldn’t leave Spike there. And then there was Buffy.

Giles tightened his fists and pushed worry away. Something had to be done, he’d worry later. She was the Slayer she could take care of herself. Most of the times.

Giles turned to Xander and directed him quickly. “Xander, go to Willy and buy Spike all the blood you can from him.” Reaching once more in his vest, Giles handed Xander his money. “Here, take my wallet.”

Anya’s knuckles turned almost white, as her fingers closed tightly on Xander’s arm. “I’m coming with you.” She whispered urgently. “I…” Xander put his own hand on hers and smiled a little at her.

“Come on.” Pulling his fiancée behind him, Xander had almost left when Willow jumping to her feet, cried out.

“We can’t leave him here!” She spread her arms to emphasise her point, taking in the whole crypt and without Spike’s candles, the crypt looked like exactly what it was: a place for the dead.

Giles nodded at Willow and quickly stated. “We’ll take him to my place, in the bathroom again.” His gaze fell again on Spike, lying unconscious under Tara’s soothing fingers. “Yes, this should be the best place for him for now.”

Xander didn’t even raise a protest and just nodded his consent. “Alright, we’ll meet you there.” As they left, Giles turned to Willow.

“Willow, I want you to help me to carry Spike to my car.”

Willow blinked quickly. “Giles, I’m not Buffy, I…”

The Watcher dismissed her worry quickly. “Use a spell, Willow, I know you can do it.”

Willow was flustered. Spike was badly wounded. Very badly wounded. And she feared to make it worse by screwing up again. “With Tara’s.. Tara’s help!”

But Giles was ruthless on that one. “No.” He turned to Tara, as the latter raised her eyes from her patient. “Tara, my dear girl, please can you try to find Buffy?” Tara didn’t bother to ask why. She knew and understood why they had been coming at Spike’s in the first place.

“On her essence?” She asked. She stopped moving her fingers over Spike’s brow. Her help had sped the vampire’s healing a lot: his bruised eye had been reduced and his eye looked almost normal, if not for the colour.

Giles nodded. “Yes.” The girl was quick and good with her magic. She would find Buffy. She would.

“I can try but I...” Tara hesitated.

“I know that you can do it, Tara.” Giles took her by the shoulders, making her climb to her feel. “This is of the utmost importance.” Tara nodded and moved away from Spike a little, carefully avoiding the blood as Willow and Giles turned to the vampire. “Now, Willow, concentrate with me.”

Giles and Willow linked hands, as they had already done before while Willow was learning magic. Willow let herself be guided in Giles’s comforting presence. He had father’s hands. Warm and rough. She taped in her power and turned her gaze on Spike.

They had not started to support Spike for barely a few minutes that Tara suddenly exclaimed. “I’ve found her!” Giles let go of his concentration and Willow had to support Spike on his own.

As if propelled by Tara’s news, Spike regained consciousness and Willow passed an arm around his waist. Spike blinked down at her curiously, but he turned his head towards the door, his eyes almost widening in fear.

But before Willow could ask him what was wrong, a sharp yell from outside caught their attention. “Giles!” Spike stiffened against Willow.

Frantic, Willow looked at Giles whose back had straightened and pulling Spike after her, the witch quickly went out. “That’s Xander!” She yelled unnecessarily. They all had recognized him.

Quickly matching her girlfriend’s pace, Tara slipped her arm under Spike’s other side. And she could have sworn she heard him whisper fearfully. “Buffy…”

The little group stumbled outside of the crypt and on Spike’s directions, turned left. After a few tense minutes, they finally joined Xander and Anya, rooted to their spot. Xander turned fearful eyes on them. Willow gasped as she took in the scene.

Giles started to move towards his slayer. “Oh my God! Buffy…” Buffy was fighting. Fighting, and obviously being cornered,  against Spike. His gleaming white hair stood out from the flurry of attacks he launched on Buffy. His black leather duster whirled around them both, as they danced to their deadly music.

“Spike…” Tara whispered. His ramblings finally made sense, after all.

Giles put his hand on Xander’s shoulder, demanding. “What in the seven hells is happening?” His gaze was drawn to the demon sporting Spike’s skin, studying him, asserting his strength like a Watcher. But with the heart of a father and fear caught his with her steely claws.

“Another Spike…” Anya whispered unnecessarily.

“Faster than Buffy!” Xander exclaimed.

The copycat landed a vicious punch in Buffy’s stomach. The Slayer tried to roll away, but the demon was already launching a new attack, which she barely had time to block. “Dear Lord, he’s fast!” Buffy was pushed in her last forces. And she was tiring.

It was all obvious to Giles’ eyes, used as he was to see her fight. She was starting to make the mistakes she did when he had run her hard in the training room. Little things that appeared when her concentration and strength wavered.

Dropping her right shoulder.

Unable to catch her breath.

Not strong on her feet.

Giles watched it all, frozen. He wouldn’t have the time to save her. The only one that could was supported by two witches. None of them had the strength to save her. Giles trembled. But he had to try.

He started to walk towards the couple, following them. Then, he quickened his steps, not hearing the shouts of the children behind him. Finally he broke into a run, as Buffy cried out in pain again. The couple disappeared from his view as their steps took them into a clearing on his right.

“Buffy!” He called.

As the couple kept on taking the steps of their deadly dance, the children, supporting Spike as best as they could, ran and stumbled after the couple and the Watcher. What awaited them in the clearing where Buffy and the look-alike Spike had disappeared was far worse that what Giles could have thought.

So many scenarios were running in his head, but Giles couldn’t understand why the impostor had taken the steps of contacting him. He obviously wanted them to find Spike. The real Spike, if the carving on the vampire’s chest was to be believed.

Spike groaned and moaned in pain at each step, but a strange fever in his eyes had him almost running ahead of the others. Only his trembling legs prevented him from overtaking the humans and catching up with Giles.

When they stumbled on the clearing, Buffy was obviously cornered. The demon danced around her, pushing her backwards, increasing his speed and her cries of pain were more and more frequent.

Then, like a cobra, the demon stroke, moving faster than Buffy could follow and the Slayer was trapped in front of him, her arms locked behind her.

Spike cried out and took two steps towards the couple but his legs finally gave out under his weight, and he couldn’t stand up again.

The false Spike turned his steely eyes on them, a crippled vampire and a bunch of human frozen on their feet by the horror of the debacle happening under their eyes.

As if taking the measure of each of them, but ignoring Spike and his attempts at crawling towards his Slayer, the false Spike finally locked eyes with Giles.

And this was when the Watcher understood the reason behind the phone call and the alarming threat. That demon, holding his Slayer, knew the only thing that could get under his skin and moving fast: his Slayer’s well-being.

More, he had obviously been the one who had crippled Spike, if Spike choked accusation of earlier could be believed, to take out the only one who could have a chance of saving Buffy. But there, standing almost arrogantly in front of them, ignoring the Slayer’s vain attempts of getting away, Giles understood.

That demon wanted him to witness something and as he pulled out a syringe from the inner pocked of the black leather duster, copy to Spike’s, Giles felt the blood drain from his head, making him dizzy.

It just couldn’t be.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Buffy breathed heavily and tried once more to shake the hold on her. “You know,” she drawled as the syringe came into view, “pulling a thing that big from your pocket just doesn’t cut it.” The demon had the grace to smile tenderly down at her.

“You’ve always had such a mouth.” He remarked.

Buffy mimicked shock. “Gosh, it talks!” Her ribs hurt like hell and she couldn’t almost not stand on her feel. The Spike look-like uncapped the syringe with his teeth and made sure the thing worked.

Buffy felt panic reach a new high and she started to struggle even more than before. But it didn’t faze him. “And I really don’t think you want to stick that thing in me!” She was almost in hysterics, but she didn’t care.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked softly.

“Let me go, you creep!” Buffy watched with fearful eyes as the syringe pierced her flesh.

“Oh pet, you disappoint me!” He mocked as he injected her the substance. “Creep? Is that all you can do?”

“Spike!” She called in desperation, trying to bring sense into him.

The demon behind her tightened his jaw and bit out. “I’m not yours. Yours is the one eating grass.” Buffy turned her eyes towards the direction he had pointed out. Giles and the others were watching in shock and fear. Tara and Willow were huddling together and Xander and Anya were holding hands; Giles looked completely lost. And Spike.

Spike was lying on the ground. Face first, he was still trying to stand up.

No one was going to save her this time.

“Giles!” She called one last time.

Something was happening. And fast. It sapped the little that was left of her strength. Her knees gave out and the demon caught her. Her eyelids felt heavy and as she gazed up at her attacker she saw him smile softly down at her, as he held her gently against him.

“NO!” Spike screamed as Buffy fell unconscious.

The strange demon remained silent an instant, gazing down at Buffy. “Too late.” He softly stated. “You know what this is Watcher.” He raised his eyes on Giles and smiled cruelly. “I’ve added my own little concoction to knock out a small elephant. I guess this works as well on a Slayer.”

He shrugged and smiled at them, shifting the Slayer in his arms. Buffy was lying against him, her forehead against his neck, his arms curled around her waist. He supported her easily with one arm, letting the other free to prevent any foolish attacks.

“You!” Willow felt the magic run wild in her veins. Spike snarled and growled on the ground.

The demon help up his free hand. “Oh! Hold down your bloody horses, witch” he smiled and added, leering,  “or you’ll hurt a pretty Slayer.”

“Willow, don’t.” Giles caught Willow’s arm to stop her.

“But, Giles…” Willow protested but Giles cut her.

“He injected Buffy the poison I…” He choked on his words and swallowed heavily, “gave her for her 18th birthday.” He finished softly.

“Oh my god!” Willow put her trembling hands over her mouth.

“What do you want?” Anya demanded.

The demon smiled. “Well, hello Anyanka.” He gave her a little salute with his free hand. “It’s been a while.”

“We know each other?” Anya asked in disbelief.

The other one puffed and smiled wryly. “Of course we do, pet.” He laughed a little, as if remembering a private joke. “But enough of the chitchat. I want Glory dead.”

Spike growled and yelled as loud as he could. “We need the Slayer for that, you nitwit!”

The other one looked down at him and sneered. “She stays with me until you’ve killed Glory.” It was strange to watch Spike and his evil twin argue but the humans couldn’t wrench their gazes from the sickening tableau. “She’s not fully a god yet.” The Evil Spike informed them. He leered a last time at Spike, struggling to get on his feet and turned his steely gaze to Giles. “She shares her body. With a human.”

“A human?” Giles couldn’t almost believe it. Why was this demon giving them so much information? What was he planning to do with Buffy?

Xander was the first to react. Advancing on the demon holding the Slayer hostage and slumped in his arms, he yelled. “We don’t kill humans!”

But a quiet voice stopped him from advancing further. Spike had finally climbed onto his own two feet. He was wavering on his spot, but he was upright. Up with burning eyes. “But I do.” He whispered.

Xander whirled on him. “Spike!” Disbelief and shock coursed him. How would the chipped vampire do such a task? And secondly, why was he agreeing so quickly? “We don’t even know what he’ll do to Buffy!” Xander hammered.

But Spike ignored him. He in fact ignored the rest of them, yelling and shouting their disagreement, their fears and doubts. “What’s the host name, mate?”

The demon shifted Buffy in his arms and quickly threw her on his shoulder, where she laid, like a doll corpse. “Ben.”

Spike closed his fists and trembled under the anger he was feeling. Bastard thought his deal was done! His fists loosened and his anger subdued. And Bastard was probably right he’d do anything for Buffy. Anything. “And I won’t do a thing to the Slayer.” The demon added softly.

Spike’s gaze fell on Buffy. The demon was ready to leave, allowing Spike to catch a glimpse of his unconscious Slayer. She wouldn’t forgive him if he killed a human.

Especially if he killed a human for her. Sadness fell upon him. But, a little voice whispered in the back of his mind, she’d be safe. Bastard would keep his word.

Willow was shaken. She only knew one Ben. “The doctor?”

Xander swept the name away, still questioning the demon. “How do you know that? We don’t even know what you are!”

Tara and Giles hadn’t been watching the departing demon, they had been watching their vampire. And had seen the acceptance. If Giles didn’t say a thing, Tara couldn’t help herself.

“Spike!” She called. The vampire had tried so much in the last weeks to please the Slayer. It was obvious to her that he was more than sweet on her. Her heart hammering in her chest, Tara tried to reason him. “Buffy will never forgive you if you kill a human!” In vain.

“When?” Spike asked, still ignoring the others.

The other Spike gave a smile. A tight condescending smile. Watching Spike up and down, surveying his damage on the bare chest vampire. “I’ll give you a fortnight.” He smirked cruelly as Spike once again closed his fists, trembling under the effort not to jump and try to kill the Sodding bastard.

Tara could almost see the rage flowing from Spike in waves. She had never felt such fury. From anyone. “And as I’ve said, you do know me. All of you.” The demon locked eyes with Giles and understanding dawned on the Watcher.

“Bloody hell!” Spike swore. “With all the blood you’ve taken me I won’t be able to do it!” The other Spike laughed and nodded.

He expected Spike to die while killing Ben. It chilled Tara and she hugged herself. Desperation was radiating from Spike. A strange flicker caught her inner senses and Tara gasped in surprise as her eyes fell on the strange demon. Her arms fell to her sides and she let her gaze fall in the stranger.

“And you won’t have to.” Giles whispered. The demon didn’t expect Spike to kill Ben. Another one would.

Misunderstanding his words, Xander shouted. “Yes! Tell him Giles!” Pointing at both demons, Xander pointed out. “Listen Spikeses we do not kill humans!” In vain.

“A fortnight.” The demon repeated and he started to melt in the shadows, bringing Buffy with him.

“Wait!” The Watcher called and surprisingly, the stranger stopped. Tilting his head to the side, in a very Spike manner, he waited the Watcher to ask his question. “What do you mean when you say that you know us and that we know you?” A smirk curled on his lips.

“The very simple reason of that, Watcher, is that I am him.” The demon laughed aloud from the shock painted on the humans faces.

“What?” Anya choked.

“I am Spike.” The demon underlined. “Not another demon taking up my skin.” He smiled again. “I know all of you.” He let his eyes roam on each of them and the humans all felt ice creep up their limbs. “I know who the Key is.” The demon whispered and Tara shook herself from her trance. The demon paid her no heed. “I know what you take for breakfast, Watcher,” he kept on, his voice rising, “because I’ve lived with you for a while. In a bathtub.”

“This is impossible…” Giles whispered, but the strange demon proclaiming to be Spike only laughed again.

“Haven’t you learned by now?” He asked in disbelief. “Everything’s possible on the Hellmouth!”

“Who are you!” Willow demanded. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what has just been said.

“I am Spike.” The demon repeated. “From the future.” Pointing at Spike, who had remained quiet and stoic, he said. “This one is yours, the Spike of your time.” Spike only growled for answer. He already knew who this demon was. The smell was exactly the same as his, so identical in fact that he almost couldn’t smell it. Only the odd addition the other Spike carried permitted it. “And I’m here to make sure it doesn’t go the way things went in my time!”

On this last promise, the vampire and the slayer neatly blended in the shadows. Spike watched them leave. Bastard was fast. Faster than he was currently. Even if he had been on his top form, he wasn’t sure he’d win in a hand-to-hand with his future counterpart.

“Wait!” Giles called, but it was too late.

Spike turned to the humans. “He won’t hurt her.” He started walking back to his crypt, limping and biting the groans all the way. He needed to rest and heal.

He had a guy to kill.

Xander caught him by the arm and effectively stopped him. “How do you know that?” Spike stumbled but didn’t fall. As h regained his footing, he glared at Xander. But the boy glared back.

“Because he has a soul!” Spike shouted at Xander who took a step back. “And because he smells just like me!” Breathing heavily, even when he didn’t need to, Spike ran a shaky hand in his hair. “He’s saying the truth. Bastard is actually saying the truth!” He yelled again. But not at Xander.

He yelled for Buffy. He yelled for Dawn. He yelled because of Glory and the pain that was uncurling in his chest. He yelled for the love he carried for the Slayer. A love that would definitely have him staked.

But, then, that was probably the plan. He would never really know why, but it just seemed fitting at the time. He didn’t have the strength to get his spot of violence to settle his nerves. Nor did he have a demon to beat on, because he was still fucking chipped.

So he laughed. Putting his head back and he let the grand laugh building in his chest out. Laughed at the unfairness of all. Laughed while Tara cried. Laughed when he realized that if the chip didn’t kill him when he’d kill Ben, Buffy would. So he laughed harder.

Hiya everyone! I would like to thank Megan, sue, Aisling [I like your name!!], Steph, Tasha, redwulf50, Rana and Kar for their kind, kind reviews! Thank you, thank you! I really wasn’t sure about posting this baby but you guys really made my day!!
mikim



Chapter 2. Victims.
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Life was one big fucking joke and he ought to be laughing his ass off so why was he feeling like curling on himself and die? The Slayer slept peacefully next to him. Golden and tanned as always. His Buffy, the one of his time had never looked as young as the one sleeping there. Other than the fact that she had been older, his Buffy had never looked so peaceful while she slept.

The dark of the car didn’t prevent her from shining, he found. She seemed to catch and attract any strands of light. The streets were dead at that time of the night and he drove faster than he should have, but he was eager to reach the house.

The little house in the desert he had spent hours to find. His last corner of paradise before hell would caught him. He threw another glance at her. His heart contracted in his chest and wished for a cigarette. But he had already given up this particular little pleasure.

The road was one straight line and he had finally reached the border of the desert. The house was still miles away. Tingles were running down his spine. His tired demon was telling him sun was coming up but he had never really cared for that warning.

A blurred memory had brought him places away. In a little house, in a rainy country, in another era where a golden woman lived and where he had found himself without really knowing why or how.

Golden hair reaching her waist and hands on her hips, as she scowled at him from the doorway. “Spike!” She whined.

He adored the way she said his name, whether angry or under the throes of passion, he would never tire of her saying it.

“What?” He remembered building something. Something big and made of wood. He had bitched all the way of building that stupid thing up but when the whelp had offered help he had but growled at him.

Buffy was standing in the doorway. “Don’t smoke! It’s bad for the baby! Or take it outside!”

She had been so small compared to her bulging stomach. The maternity clothes weren’t helping and Buffy hated them. But he loved seeing her so ripe and full of life. He’d never told her and regretted it.

Immensely.

Maybe more than anything, he regretted not being able anymore to tell her how beautiful she was in his eyes.

He suddenly remembered. He had been building up their babies cots. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel and his foot pressed down further the speeding pedal. He had to reach the house. Once he was in the house his plan would run smoothly.

Yes. Once in the house and his golden girl secure, nothing would happen like things had in his time.

Buffy would live.

Spike could see the house. And the sun was ready to come up. Already the dunes on his left were starting to take a rosy colour and he found himself smirking. He had taken too long in playing with the Slayer and torturing the other one. He let his thought strand on his present twin. The Spike of now was unsouled and in love. Oh, he knew how deeply in love the vampire was.

Desperation hadn’t started to latch in his heart, he hadn’t been broken yet. No, Glory hadn’t caught him yet. But, this time there would be no kiss to soothe his bruises.

He had always wondered if she had known how her chaste kiss after he had escaped Glory’s torture had affected him. How she had wrapped him around her finger and bound him to her tighter than any chains could have. That the memory of that kiss was what made him stay the first days after her demise.

He had never asked her and she had never said and now he would never know because he had already changed things so much that his Buffy and his future no longer existed.

Finally, he parked the car in front of a lone white house. The little house was falling apart but it served his purpose and he had made sure that there was enough water to last a month. He had blackened all the windows and prepared a room for her.

He had bought clothes and the shampoo she liked. He bought a mirror and a hairbrush because brushing her hair calmed her. He bought a bed and a plush toy because she hated being on her own. He bought her portable CD player and CDs because she liked to dance.

Everything was ready yet he hesitated with the Slayer limp in his arms, the sun which was coming fast over the dunes of sand in his back. He hesitated because it meant spending time with her. Spending time with a Buffy that was his yet wasn’t. Spending time with a Buffy he knew but who didn’t recognized him. His eyes fell on her peaceful face and he made his decision. He crossed the threshold without looking back and kicked the door closed behind him.

The sun rays were seconds too late.

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Buffy was dreaming. In her dreams, a man was looking after her. With tender hands and careful fingers, the man held her and caressed her face. Then with a care she wasn’t used too, he laid her down on a bed.

The bed was soft and she felt warm. Her head was fuzzy and her senses dull. Everything looked white and she could feel the wind, the bed swallowed her and Buffy watched the man closing the window, cutting the wind.

Then he turned towards her and again ran his hands in her hair, covering her with the comforter. She felt something soft and furry next to her cheek. Something round and very pink. No really knowing why, she smiled and felt content when she saw an answering smile on the man’s face. Then, secure and warm, she closed her eyes once more and fell asleep once more.

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Spike sat on the side of the bed and watched the Slayer. She hadn’t really woken up and hadn’t realized who and where exactly she was. She had a dizzy look on her face, smiled and fell back asleep. He had to smile.

Having her so close, yet he felt like there were miles between them. Or more accurately, he thought wryly to himself years between them.

Her hair was so soft, as soft as he remembered. Her skin was still velvet under his fingers. Her little snores music to his ears. Her mouth was rosy and her cheeks pink with life. He couldn’t help it. He could never resist her. She laid down, on the white sheets he had picked for her, in the white room he had painted and repaired for her, her blond hair an unruly mess framing her face. The room was positioned to the North. There was no direct sunlight and because she loved the light, he hadn’t darkened her windows.

She was asleep. Sleeping soundly in the house he had chosen. She would never really know. She would never realize and he would never tell her. There were so many things he had never told her anyway. One more, what harm could it have possibly done?

In a white, white room, in a little house in the desert, without anyone around, the vampire from the future bent over his mortal enemy and kissed her softly. He couldn’t really afford more.

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Spike laid in his crypt.

It reeked of his blood and failure. It was tainted with his pain and his fear. The putrid smell of decay was mingling with the other’s. The other one. Spike trembled as he recalled how the other one had stolen the Slayer. Staying here reminded him how he had failed to protect the one he claimed to love.

So he stayed in his crypt, laying on his back, gazing at the ceiling where he had been hanged by his wrists and rested. Healed and built up his strength, slowly. So slowly. Fury rose once more in his chest. Bastard had been fast, him. So fast. Strong too and vicious. Spike almost laughed again. Vicious, that he had always been. The Slayer had just smoothed his angles a bit.

He had to sharpen them once more.

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The children were shocked and all huddling together. Giles couldn’t really blame them. He was feeling weary too. Weary and ready to kneel over. The other Spike, the one from the future, never intended for the current Spike to kill Ben. He perfectly knew that with the chip, Spike was unable to kill the boy. He could probably do the young human a lot of damage, but could he deftly kill him? That was out of the question.

The other Spike knew it and so did Giles. Spike probably thought he had enough strength to kill the boy before the chip would fry his brain. Except that to get a chance to kill Ben, if he was indeed Glory’s host, the vampire would have to first force Glory down in order for Ben to emerge. Or find a way to prevent Glory from emerging from Ben’s body.

The little group had finally reached his apartment. Spike had limped to his crypt, snarled at Tara who had tried to stop him and banged his door shut leaving the humans outside. Xander had then grown angry and pulled everyone after him. Giles let his eyes roam on the boy. He was sitting on his sofa, with Anya close, holding her against his chest.

Giles could easily understand how the boy felt as he felt it too, but it wasn’t a reason to lash out on Spike and pour his feeling of helplessness on a vampire who had obviously been viciously beaten. He probably would have to talk to Xander about his habit to put the others down when they didn’t go the way he wanted them to.

Tara was sitting and leaning against Willow in the armchair. The blond witch hadn’t stopped crying ever since Spike had snapped at her. Willow was desperately trying to soothe her but nothing seemed to make her stop. Giles sighed and went to his liquor cabinet. He needed a stiff drink. A very strong one to prepare himself for the following phone call. He had to call Joyce. It was the least he could do.

Moreover, the drink would help him not to think about what the Spike from the future wanted him to do. If Spike couldn’t do it, another one would have. Giles pulled out his oldest scotch and a glass. He filled the glass and watched the amber liquid slosh around. The Spike from the future hadn’t particularly asked for Spike to kill Glory. He just wanted the God dead and he knew who would have to do it.

The Watcher in him was rebelling. His days as Ripper were over and nevertheless, Ben was human. But Buffy. Buffy was Buffy. A slip of a girl who had filled his lonely life with her sunny dizzy ways. The closest he would ever have to a daughter. Since Spike couldn’t possibly kill Ben, he would have to do it. He swallowed the alcohol without pausing and poured himself another one.

He had to call Joyce.

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Hello, hello, I know it’s been a while, but what can I tell you? Except… I’VE GRADUATED! Yeah! Well, not really since I won’t know until July if I’ve passed my exams and if I’m going to have my diploma or not, but still. It’s still feeling lighter these days without having to worry about finals and stuff.
Life is so cool.
Oh, in the last chapter, I wanted to include answers to reviews, but I completely forgot (I’m bad, bad, bad). Then, when I realized I rushed to post them on my lj, but as an idiot, I didn’t think that if I didn’t tell you I answered your reviews on my lj, then you wouldn’t know I’ve posted answers. Yes, you can say it again. I’m stupid.
Anyway, check it out. It’s dated from the 5/06/2005. Yeah, a long time ago. Here’s the direct link.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/mikimchan/#item3162
I also think I’ll keep posting answers to reviews there, because I don’t want to crowd the page too much.
Well, here it is.
Love, mikim.
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Chapter 3. Damaged.
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Giles had the phone in one hand and his finger was hovering over the numbers to dial Buffy’s home number. But he couldn’t do it. And he felt like no amount of alcohol could make him do it.

Ever since he had met Joyce, Giles had, somewhere deep in his heart, dreaded the minute when he would have to tell her that his Slayer, her daughter, had fallen.

At first, he hadn’t wanted to meet her. He hadn’t wanted to meet the woman who had brought and raised the hellion that was his Slayer.

Then, somewhere, somehow, it had changed from the Slayer’s mother to Buffy’s mother. And it went worse and became Joyce. A woman he had learnt to respect and appreciate. And the love she had for Buffy could only be rivalled by his own.

Giles dropped the receiver back. He couldn’t do it over the phone. He would have to face Joyce and tell her of his failure. That was the only way he could shake the feeling of helplessness that had fallen over him.

Sighing lightly, he turned to the children still huddling in his living room.

Xander had stood up and was gesturing wildly. “How do we know that it’s not a trap?” He pointed out. “For all we know, it could be a trick from Glory or some other Big Bad! I mean, come on! From the future!”

Giles sighed and didn’t want to answer the boy. He didn’t want to tell the boy of the empty blue eyes that had fixed him and filled him with dread. It was an almost personal experience that he didn’t want to share. Or maybe he thought dryly to himself, was too much of a coward to share.

Willow raised her head from where she was murmuring sweet nothing to Tara in order to soothe her. “But what about Spike?” She asked. “He did say that what the other Spike said was true.”

Xander snorted. “Come on, as if the Bleached Wonder has never lied to us before.”

Anya rose from her seat, fixing unbelieving eyes on her boyfriend. “He was beaten within an inch of his life, Xander! How can you say that he plotted against Buffy?” Her voice rose and rose as she spoke. The horror of Spike’s crypt violently came back to her mind, making her stomach churn and protest.

“I didn’t say, Anh.” Xander looked anything but apologetic.

“No?” The ex-demon seethed. It was obvious he was convinced of Spike’s guilt on this matter. “But you thought of it! And that was what you meant!” Throwing her hands in the air, Anya approached her boyfriend. “God, Xander, didn’t you see him?”

Xander’s face took a painful turn but he quickly shook it off. “Well, he’s vamp!” He justified himself. “Torture is like the third base for him!” Anya was getting more and more riled up and Giles took great care at not intervening in this little dispute. He wondered briefly if Xander realized that Anya as a human wasn’t so different that Anya as a demon. Probably not.

A little voice cut the argument. “It was true.” Tara raised her red eyes on Xander.

Taken back, Xander could only croak. “What?”

Boldly as no one contracted her, Tara went on. “I said that it was true. I… I saw the other Spike’s soul.”

Willow back a little from her girlfriend. “Tara?” Xander was getting work up again and his frown was deepening. Tara swallowed difficulty. He suddenly reminded her of her own father.

Tara felt panic grip her and she rushed to explain. “It caught my eyes suddenly and I couldn’t help but feel it and…”

“So you’re saying that Spike has a soul?” Xander interrupted her and dryly said. “You got to be kidding me!”

Tara felt like taken years earlier, when she was a young girl, justifying herself for a fault her father had found her. “I saw his aura for barely a minute, it flared out of him.” She felt Willow squeeze her hand in support and she slowed down. “He knows how to control it and something must have unsettled him because it suddenly flew out of him like he couldn’t control it.”

Willow ran a calming hand in her girlfriend’s hair. She knew Tara was more skilled than she was in aura readings and if Tara said she had seen a soul in Spike, then she believed her. “What did you see, Tara?”

Tara shivered and Willow drew her in her arms. “Pain. Oh, my god. So much pain.” The white witch whispered.

“Shush, Baby, it’s alright.” Willow could only tighten her hold on Tara. She didn’t know how things could get better and she sincerely hoped that they wouldn’t become worse. So she whispered sweet nothings in her girlfriend’s hair. “You’ll see, everything is going to be alright.”

“He really does come from the Future and he really does have a soul.” Tara felt like she had to protect him. That stranger from the future. He held so much bottled in him. “He is Spike.” She insisted as she turned to look at Xander. “There is no doubt in that. And he loves Buffy so much…”

“Demons can’t love.” Xander bit out.

For the first time since she had met him, Tara didn’t recognize Xander. She only saw an unmoving man and once more she felt like she was in front of her father. But the pain the stranger had within him and the love he had for Buffy couldn’t be ignored or denied and Tara felt compelled to protect him.

“Well he does!” She didn’t know what came over her, but she stood up and faced Xander, visibly surprised by her outburst. “And he won’t hurt her!” Tara knew as much. “It’s the furthest thing on his mind! When he lost control on his aura all I could feel was a pain so intense that he can’t be whole and there was also a feeling of failure and love. Love all focused on Buffy and he’s hurting because he failed her! That what I felt and that’s how I know he won’t hurt her! There’s something broken in him. He lost something and it broke him. It’s the first time that I’ve seen a man like that.” Willow stood up as well and hugged Tara again. This is when she realized she was crying again.

Xander got red and screamed again. “It’s not a man! It’s a monster!” He bit out. “What else would order the murder of another human! Look at what he did! He drugged Buffy and only God knows what he’s doing to her! God! How can you trust that thing! Damn it, if it really is Spike, then we all know that he’s going to hurt her!”

Anya fell back on the couch, her eyes warily watching Xander but she kept her mouth shut. There was more than simple hate for vampires here, Anya realized. There was something personal against Spike.

Or rather, she thought, vampire in love with the Slayer. Not for the first time, Anya asked herself what she was doing dating Xander.

“This is more than enough.” Giles said, stepping closer. Tara dried her tears and Willow took her hand.

“Giles…” She whispered. They all knew what the syringe was and Willow thought to herself that the Watcher had lost ten years of his life tonight.

Taking control of the situation, the Watcher hoped to calm the spirits. “You all should go home. I am going to see Joyce.” He turned to Willow and Tara and offered quietly. “I’ll drop the two of you on the campus, if you wish.”

One look at Tara and Willow nodded. “Yes, thanks Giles.”

“Come on, Anya.” Grabbing Anya’s hand and pulling her on her feet, Xander walked past the couch and out of the door, without a goodbye.

Giles watched them leave, noticing the looks Anya sent them above her shoulder, as she was dragged behind Xander. Giles shook his head to himself. Anya had been dealt a serious blow and Xander hadn’t realized he had been wielding the weapon.

Sighing again, and while Willow excused herself to the bathroom, the Watcher put back his scotch in the liquor cabinet. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tara fidget with the hem of her shirt. “What did you wish to tell me, Tara?” He asked her softly.

Startled, Tara blushed. “Oh! I…” It wasn’t like Tara wanted to keep Willow in the dark, but… She still was reluctant to share her views with Xander’s oldest friend. She knew that Willow was more open-minded on the subject than Xander, but Tara didn’t want to risk it.

Giles sat on the couch and smiled sadly at Tara. “It’s alright Tara. Don’t listen too closely to Xander.” He advised her. “He’s angry because he couldn’t stop Spike from taking Buffy. He also knows that he was powerless and for the first time, he realized the gap between the reality of Buffy’s duty and his life. He had just started to build a life for himself. He has separated himself from the Slayer world, more than he ever has when he was in high school. For him, Buffy is the unbeatable. Yet, he should know better and tonight proved him again that Buffy is first a girl.”

Tara nodded and sat again. “You believe that it was Spike.” She said suddenly, watching him intently.

Giles nodded slowly. “Yes, a Spike from another timeline though.”

“It really was.” Tara insisted.

Giles felt like there was something more that Tara wished to tell him. So, he prodded her gently. “What did you have to tell me, Tara?”

Tara hesitated. “He may not hurt Buffy, but…”

“Yes?” Giles prompted her. Spike had shown him he had the upper hand on the Slayer. More, he had managed to overcome the Slayer, yet he hadn’t really hurt her, nor killed her. Giles hadn’t believe either that Spike would hurt Buffy, but if Tara had seen something…

“He’s broken, Mr. Giles.” Tara whispered, staring at the carpet. “Nothing matters to him anymore… Because he has nothing left to lose.” Giles leaned back on the couch. He understood what she had tried to say. Spike may not want to hurt Buffy, but he might not understand what could actually hurt her.

Giles nodded once and Willow came back in the room, cutting any further discussion.

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After dropping the girls on the campus, Giles made his way to Joyce Summers’ home. The house was dark and given the time of the night, Giles passed it as normal.

Buffy had given him a key, years ago in case she lost hers and he had never thought he would one day actually use it himself.

Dreading entering the house, Giles debated with himself. He still didn’t know how to tell Joyce. The Slayer was meant to be alone. Her only companion was to be her Watcher. There was nothing in his Watcher training that had prepared him to this moment. Nothing he came up with pleased him. But Joyce had a right to know. He couldn’t leave her like that, in the dark.

Squaring his shoulders, he rang the bell once to warn Joyce of his presence. Waiting a few minutes, as no one answered him, he used the key and let himself in. He stood in the entry and waited for Joyce to appear at the top of the stairs. But when she didn’t appear, Giles felt worry start to gnaw at his insides.

“Joyce?” He called out. Nothing but the silence answered him. Worry and a bit of panic wove itself around his heart as he climbed up the stairs. He pushed the first door he found open. He obviously was in Dawn’s room, yet no one was present.

Running he went in the next room, but it was empty too. Calling their names, Giles made his way downstairs and in the kitchen. So many scenarios of what could have happened ran in his head: Glory coming in and kidnapping Dawn. Joyce getting killed. The Knights. Burglars.

Finally reaching the kitchen, he found a note hastily written by Dawn laying on the kitchen counter. Reading it quickly, Giles didn’t know if he had to feel relieve, but he still felt lighter as he ran to his car.

Dawn had gone to the hospital, which had called the house to say that Joyce had been hospitalised earlier that evening. Dawn obvious panic reflected in the way she asked Buffy to come as soon as possible.

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As he reached the hospital, Giles was shaking his head. So many things were happening at once, so many dreadful things.

After getting instructions as were to find the waiting room, Giles found the younger Summers, biting her nails. Dawn was all hunched on herself, long hair covering almost her entire body. Someone had given her a cover, which remained ignored on the chair next to her.

Dawn looked up as Giles called her name softly. Giles watched relief, then fear and finale tears cross her face. He suddenly found himself full of the teenager, who clung to him.

“Giles!” She cried against his chest. Hugging her to him, Giles wondered exactly how long Dawn had been on her own, in the waiting room.

“Dawn, what happened?” He asked her softly, as he led her to the chairs again.
As if he had slapped her, Dawn suddenly pulled out of his arms and looked around her. He knew who she was looking for. “Giles!” She jumped on her feet again. “Where the hell is Buffy?” Dawn sniffed and ran her hand over her eyes. “I’ve been trying for hours to call her! I’ve called the house hundreds of times already!” Hysterics was building and Giles stood up as well and drew her in his arms . “Where is she? I need my sister! Giles, where is Buffy?”

He hadn’t thought he would have to break the news to Dawn first. The girl had gone through a very rough patch lately, with learning what she really was and meeting Glory. “Shush, Dawn, everything is going to be alright.” Giles hugged her as hard as he could. Why should it happen to such a young girl? It wasn’t the first time he had asked himself the question and he still hadn't found the answer.

Dawn wrenched herself from his embrace and took a few steps back. “What’s wrong?” She demanded and Giles felt his arms fall at his side. She suddenly reminded him too much of the night when she cut herself.

“Dawn, I…”

Her breathing sped up and her face crumbled. Her hands started shaking. “Oh, no. Please, tell me no. Buffy isn’t gone, is she?” She started to cry.

Giles gathered her in his arms again, forcing her to sit. “Oh Dawn, no.” He berated himself for thoughtlessness. Of course, Dawn would have thought Buffy had died. "No, my dear girl. I’m sorry.” Pulling away from her, he forced Dawn to meet his gaze. “No, your sister isn’t dead.”

Dawn sniffled once more and Giles reached in his pocket for his handkerchief. “Then what happened Giles? Where is Buffy? She usually doesn’t patrol this late!”

Dawn wiped her nose and dried her tears. “Dawn, I need you to be strong and listen to me, alright?”

“Giles, what happened?”

“Please, Dawn.” Taking a deep breath, he explained. “Earlier this evening, I received a phone call from Spike, gloating, telling me he had my Slayer in his custody. I got mad and went to his crypt to confirm it and I confess finally stake him. What I found however… Spike was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists. He had been left there to bleed dry.” Dawn gasped loudly. “He’s better now. We untied him and tried to speed his healing process.” He reassured her. He had almost forgotten how attached to the vampire Dawn was. “And then, we heard something fighting outside. We all went out to find Buffy fighting Spike.”

Dawn frowned at Giles. “But you just said…” She trailed.

Giles nodded. “The Spike fighting Buffy is someone who has come from the future.”

Dawn blinked and drawled, suddenly angry. “Right and you’re the mad doc.”

Giles expected her reaction and taking the handkerchief from her, he dried the rest of her tears. “Dawn, I could hardly believe my own eyes myself but Tara confirmed that it really was Spike, just from the future.” He saw acceptance enter her eyes and finally, she grabbed his arm.

“What happened to Buffy?” She asked him urgently.

“The Spike from the future kidnapped her.”

Dawn moved completely away from him. “This is completely crazy! Giles, are you listening to yourself? A Spike from the future?”

“I know that it sounds crazy but it is what really happened. Dawn, I need you to settle down. Please.” She took his hand again.

“But why? Spike would never hurt her! He loves her!” Giles was a bit taken aback by the vehemence Dawn put in her voice. She believed and trusted the vampire more than anybody else.

“This Spike wants us to destroy Glory for the safe return of Buffy.” He told her. She might as well know the full truth. The last time they had tried to hide things from her, she had found in the most horrible way possible and it directly touched her.

“But… But, Buffy is the Slayer! Who will…”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Giles forced Dawn to listen closely to him. “Dawn, I am telling you all this because I think that I shouldn’t keep this secret from you. You really are old enough to know and understand all this.” Dawn nodded and stared at her lap.

She remained silent for a while, then her head snapped up and she whispered. “Mom…” Urgently, she told him. “She’ll want to see Buffy! What should I do? The doctor is waiting for her!”

Giles squeezed her shoulders and reassured her. “We will figure something out, Dawn but it isn’t safe for you to be here.”

Dawn’s blue eyes took a faraway look and she whispered, as if she feared someone would overhear them. “She found me here.”

“I know. You will come to my home tonight and so will your mother as soon as she’s on her own two feet.” Mentioning her mother, Dawn hunched forward again.

“Giles… I thought it was over! Mom is gonna be alright, now?” She turned to him to comfort and reassure her, but Giles didn’t have the answers. He didn’t know either and he didn’t want to lie to her.

“We’ll just have to wait and hear what the doctors have to say.”

“It’s not fair!” Dawn bit her lower lip. “Mom and now Buffy.” Giles put his arm around the younger girl’s shoulders and couldn’t but agree silently.

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Between broken sobs and sniffles, Dawn related to Giles what had happened to her mother. Joyce had apparently been attacked when she was closing the gallery.

“Some witnesses say that the sun was barely out when some guy came up to Mom and tried to grab her bag. Mom knows that she shouldn’t be out alone at night, but so close to sunset, Giles, there usually aren’t any vamps, right?”

As Dawn continued to tell him that somebody had called the ambulance and they found her mother in front of the gallery alone, Giles immediately thought of the only vampire of his knowledge that had almost never feared the sun.

What confirmed his suspicions was that Joyce’s purse was still with her when the ambulance found her. That was how they known who to call.

“How was your mother physical condition after the attack?” He asked her softly as to not rouse her suspicions.

“Well, they said Mom was lucky because she didn’t have a thing but since she had been unconscious when they found her and because she had just had an operation, the doctors said that it was better to do some scans. And then they found that there was a haematoma and…” Dawn started to cry again and Giles could easily guess the rest.

The doctors had probably preferred to undergo immediate surgery to prevent any further problems. As he rubbed Dawn’s back in order to calm her, Giles pondered quietly that if Spike, as there was no doubt in his mind that it had been Spike from the future that had “attacked” Joyce, hadn’t attacked Joyce, then would she have discover the haematoma?

Probably not, Giles realized.

He pulled the grey coverlet and threw it over Dawn’s shoulders.

“I need to call Willow and the others to let them know. Can you stay here? Afterwards, we will look for some tea, alright?” Dawn nodded bravely and wiping her nose once more with his handkerchief, she watched him move towards the payphones.

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A while later, after talking to Willow and assuring her that there was no need for her to come since Tara was feeling bad and after taking Dawn to have something on her stomach, Giles watched the younger girl finally fall asleep from exhaustion.

He was feeling all cramped for spending too much time on the uncomfortable hospital chair. He didn’t know how Dawn could sleep on them, and caressing her hair, he stood up. He needed to walk for a while to relax himself.

He hadn’t planned to take but a few steps away from Dawn, in case she woke up, needing him. But all thoughts of Dawn flew out of his mind when he noticed a familiar youth.

Ben was leaving the hospital in normal clothes, a sports bag slung over his shoulder. He was joking with one of his colleagues who still wore the hospital gear. As Giles watched him say goodbye to his friend and make his way out of the hospital doors, he realized how easy it could be. Just a simple human life.

Smirking to himself as he approached Ben, taking great care not to be noticed, he thought on how well did Future Spike knew him and the Slayer. Buffy, had she been free, would have never condone the execution of an innocent, no matter what, while he… It was another matter altogether when it came to him.

But watching Ben wave goodbyes to fellow workers, watching the youth of his face, watching the obvious pleasure the young man found in being out of his work place, as he stretched, Giles started to doubt.

He no longer was Ripper. He was old and he had daughters. Two beautiful daughters: one gold as the sun, while the other was still blossoming and learning how to fly and still so innocent. But Ben was an innocent. Just like Dawn, he really didn’t have a choice in this mess. Giles started to think of alternatives way. Maybe they could find a way to separate Glory from Ben.

Ben approached a black car and rummaged in his bag for keys, probably. But the door opened before Ben could take the keys out his bag. Giles watched, transfixed, one of Glory’s scrawny little minions get out of the car, bow in front of Ben and open the back door for him. Ben said something to the creature who bowed again, then he threw the bag on the backseat before taking place himself. The little minion climbed back in the front and drove off.

Giles watched the car diminish then disappear, rooted on the parking lot.

So Ben did know.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Buffy felt groggy and her body was aching not in all the good places. Groaning, she reluctantly opened her eyes and took in the white room.

A pure minute of panic caught her, like a punch in the solar plexus. She sat up and wildly she took in the room.

White curtains in front of her, framing a window from where she could see the desert. Right next to it was a white desk with a large mirror and several other things on it. On her left was a nightstand on which was resting a CD player and against the wall was a huge closet.

At the foot of the bed she rested in a large wooden chest on which a red cover had been spread and on her right, as the bed was in the centre of the room, was an open door, leading from what she could see a bathroom.

She didn’t recognized anything, she was in an unknown place, in an unknown bed. And then she remembered. And she couldn’t tell if it was better. Closing her eyes and bringing her knees under her chin, Buffy remembered the events of the previous night.

She recalled the too-strong arms holding her. She shivered at the memory of the useless attempts she made to escape and for once, the Slayer didn’t think that anybody could help her.

She remembered the stricken look on Giles’s face, the panic on her friends’ and the desperation in Spike’s eyes. Shaking her head and closing her eyes tightly against the tears, the Slayer allowed herself a few minutes before putting herself back together. She needed to escape. She had to go home.

Dawn and her mother were alone and who knew what Glory would do when she would learn the Slayer was no longer around. Forcing herself to breathe like Giles had taught her, Buffy forced herself to relax her muscles one by one.

Once done, the Slayer fell back on her back and glanced up at the white ceiling. Buffy focused like she was in one of Giles’ meditation exercises and reached out her senses to search her surroundings. As she didn’t feel anything in the near vicinity, Buffy came to the conclusion that the demon holding her prisoner wasn’t in the near vicinity. If he was there, he was staying clear of her spidey sense.

She needed to assess to her situation. She needed to see what she could use to escape. Resolutely, she sat up once more in the bed, and throwing away the covers, she flung her legs out and stood up. She felt a bit shaky on her legs but nothing than a few seconds  of deep breathing could resolve.

As Buffy crossed the room to the window, Buffy realized that only her boots and jacket had been removed from her. Pushing back the curtain for a better view, Buffy realized that she was on the second floor of a house in the middle of the desert. There was no direct sunlight in her room and judging by the shadows outside, it was still early in the morning.

Stepping back, Buffy touched the window to test it and see how she could open it. Finding it close, she tried to get the lock to work. At her first try, the lock refused to move. Annoyed, Buffy pressed harder on it. The window was a guillotine style one, therefore there was a simple lock to push open before pulling the window up to open it. But nothing nudged the lock.

Buffy stared at that little piece of metal like it was going to jump from the window and bite her. Thundering heart in her chest and a wild suspicion was slowly making its way in her mind.

It couldn’t be. Giles wouldn’t have let him do that! Only the Council had it! It couldn’t be!

And the mantra went on and on as she whirled on herself and launched herself at the door. Grabbing the handle, Buffy pulled at it. And pulled.

It couldn’t be. Giles wouldn’t have let him do that! Only the Council had it! It couldn’t be!

Her breathing erratic, she took three steps back before putting all her strength in the shoulder she crashed against the door. Still, the white door next to her bed remained unmoving, like an undefeated opponent.

“Do you know what this is?”

No, it couldn’t be.

Buffy crumbled as she stood up and once more threw herself on the door. She knew it was useless. Only in movies was a slip of girl able to take down a door. A slip of a girl, without any special powers.

And it finally hit her. Whet the other had injected her with: the serum which stole Slayer’s strength away. Hitting on the door until she couldn’t feel her hands, Buffy screamed.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Spike was sitting downstairs. He was sitting in the living room, which was located right under her room.

He had heard her getting up and moving. Closing his eyes and focusing all his senses on her room, he had followed her movements. He had listened to her vain attempts at opening the window, then when she had started to doubt her Slayer strength, he had felt rather than heard her heartbeat growing stronger and erratic. Then, he followed with his eyes on the ceiling the path she took from the window to the door. He winced when she threw herself against the door.

And when she screamed, he buried his head in his hands and tried to block her voice.

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