Pairing: W/S
Rating: R
Summary: A new player in town
Disclaimer: All characters and aspects of the fictional environment are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, et al. There is no intent, or remote possibility, of anyone profiting from this.
Distribution: If you'd like it ask and I'll let you take it.
Feedback: Please
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~Part: 1~
When he heard the footsteps behind him, he looked at the old alarm clock Buffy had given him when he moved into her basement. It was too early for her and he had no interest in any other visitor.
"Piss off, "he said without turning around.
When he didn't hear anything, he started to turn. That's when he felt the blow on the side of his head and then everything went black.
~~~*~~~
"Have you seen Spike?" Willow asked Buffy. "I was just down stairs and he's not there."
Buffy looked up from her magazine, "Gee Will; you seem disappointed, lookin' for a little action?"
Willow blushed, "is that all you think about?"
"Since all I can do is think about it, yeah, "her friend replied with a sour look.
"So you don't know where he is?" Willow continued.
"Not my turn to watch'em Will, "Buffy said returning to her magazine."
To tell the truth, Willow was disappointed. Lately, she'd started to spend time with him. She needed a place to escape from the house full of teenagers. Dawn was one of them and well Buffy was Buffy. Long thoughtful conversations weren't her strong point.
Spike listened and he didn't judge her. She knew that Buffy, Xander and Giles loved her, but she always felt 'on' when she was with them. She was afraid to say or do something that would remind them of Warren or the evil Willow.
Spike wasn't like that, he knew what it was to be evil and do evil. Since he'd gotten his soul, and she suspected even before then, he knew what guilt and regret were too.
She felt comfortable with him, and he wasn't so hard to look at either.
Willow tried to ignore that last thought but couldn't. She shivered and admitted to her self that he was pretty sexy, but only as a friend. Only as a friend, only as a friend, she repeated under her breath.
"Did you say something Will, "Buffy asked looking up again.
"No, "Willow squeaked and hurried past her and up the stairs.
~~~*~~~
Spike tried to focus, his head was sore and he felt disoriented. He felt someone leaning over him and gradually a face began to take form. At first all he could see was blond hair.
"Buffy, is that you? What the bloody hell happened?"
He heard an angry grunt and then he recognized the voice just as the face clicked into focus.
"Harmony, is that you?"
"I heard that you started banging that blond bimbo after I left. You can forget about the slayer now; the first team is back in town."
"What the hell are you nattering on about?" he said as he struggled to sit up.
It took him a moment to realize that his ankles and wrists were tied to the cot he was lying on. They were loose enough for some movement, but he couldn't sit up.
He shook his heads in disbelief, "Ok you empty headed bint, what's all this in aid of?"
"Well old son, "a voice with a faint British accent said, "it's all about a chance. A chance for you to keep on … living is the wrong word I suppose…. existing. That's it, a chance for you to keep on existing. More than you've given most folk you've met in the past I dare say."
Spike turned his head toward the voice. He saw a medium sized middle aged man sitting in a plain wooden chair. He was dressed in a tweed suit and held a derby hat on one knee. He had a round face and a neat moustache, his hair was a salt and pepper color and neatly combed.
"Who the devil are you? "Spike demanded.
"Oh my, "the man said sounding mildly amused, "you've nearly guessed it in one."
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