Between Scylla and Charybdis

By Xanpet

Chapter Four

Spike sat listening to the row above their heads. "That bloke's a drunken halfwit," he decided. Many's the time Spike had seen Xander's mother sporting a little too much make-up or dark glasses. "Geezer's definitely a bit too handy." As far as Spike could tell Xander's father had never struck him. There was no fear there, just a kind of sorrowful loathing, if that made any kind of sense.

Ye Gods, introspective or what? This is what came from sitting for two days watching the young man sleep off the emotions of Friday night. Spike had to get them out of there and to do that he had to get the chip removed first. He wanted everything, the flat, the domesticity, the homely love. He knew it seemed out of character for a vampire. It wasn't. The demon knew nothing of restraint. See. Want. Take. Have. It was simple and he wanted it all.

Still Xander slept. Spike wasn't going to wake him. Then he would have to say

where he was going. He hoped to be back before the 'Scooby' meeting but just in case he wasn't…. He got up quietly and went to the desk. Taking a biro and paper he paused, thinking about what to write. He hated writing with biros. The ballpoint just didn't suit his style, but when you lived forever, you had to move with the times.

He smiled to himself. He chewed the end of the pen for a moment recalling his schoolboy Shakespeare and then in a spidery, fine, copperplate hand, tiny without his glasses, he wrote,

If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
Will, will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
In things of great receipt with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckoned none:
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Though in thy store's account I one must be;
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:

Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
And then thou lovest me for my name is Wil'.

Just like Arny I'll be back.

WH.

Spike scanned the sonnet to make sure he had it right. Then folded the note and put it in an envelope. He put Xander's name on the front and stood it by the microwave. A place Xander was sure to visit, eventually.

Spike waited until it was quiet upstairs and then left. As he reached his car, a male voice from the hedge said, "You're a friend of my son's aren't you?" The speech was slurred and thick with drink.

"Yes."

"What's your name, boy?"

"William." Spike answered without attitude. It stuck in his craw to do so. This berk was scum but he didn't want to cause Xander any more trouble.

"Well William, drive safely. Even a small town like this has its maniacs."

"Yeah and I'm talking to one of them!" He thought.

When Spike arrived, he was shown into the back room of the bar, "Spike, meet the Viscotti brothers." Willy said and, without further ceremony, left them to it. The scene was almost surreal. It was like a bad gangster flick. There were five 'wise guys' for want of a better word sitting around a card table. Gunholsters clearly visible, drinking whiskey from heavy bottomed tumblers. Danny Viscotti was the youngest. Ray Viscotti had a large jagged scar down his right cheek. Lincoln and Martin were so alike they could have been twins and Tony Viscotti, the eldest, could have won first prize in a 'Fat Tony' competition. They even had the stereotyped accents.

"I hears yous are having a problem." Said Tony, "A hunting problem. We could help you out. When my brothers and I are taken suddenly…unwell we visit a certain doctor. A very discreet doctor that specialises in things a hospital ought not to see if you get my drift? But help of this sort doesn't come
without a price. Are you willing to pay for such specialised services?"

"Just what the fuck d'you want me to do? I don't have all night."

"Our Mamma, God rest her soul, always said patience was a virtue."

"I'M A VAMPIRE. Do I look bleeding, bloody virtuous to you?"

"I would be right in thinking that a bad attitude got you into this mess in the first place? Politeness and respect never hurt anyone."

He couldn't believe he was getting a lesson in manners off a tu'penny ha'penny mobster. He morphed into the vampire just to hurry things up.

"We've lost something." Said Danny quickly, obviously more panicked than the others by the demon sitting in front of them.

"Something we would rather like to get back." Tony added.

"And that something would be…" Spike wound his hand as if to crank up the speed of the conversation.

"An ancient evil from the straits of Messina."

Spike began to smile. It was more of a leer with his game face still in place. Even Tony Viscotti looked worried. The smile became a wry laugh as the vampire put two and two together. Messina, Sicilians, six heads, he'd read this one.

"Let me finish this story for you before it becomes 'Gone with the Wind'. Ancient evil, six heads, three sets of teeth each, about a dozen useless legs, barks like a small puppy and scoffs down people like they was Smarties. Am I right?"

The stunned Viscotti brothers just nodded.

"Goes by the name of Scylla. You fucking stupid bastards found a way of catching her and what…sell the story to The National Inquirer? This wasn't a plan guys, it was a bad Godzilla movie. Now she's out and trying to go home to Tara."

What he wanted to say next was that frankly he couldn't give a damn with the emphasis in the right place. However, that wasn't going to help him lose the chip. So he shifted back to the young man and looked at them with the contempt they so richly deserved.

Tony recovered his composure. "We know you have contact with people in this town who can help us in this matter. You are to alert these people, allow them to find and catch the beast. Turn her over to us and we will allow you to see our doctor."

"Or the sharpened end of a broom handle! I need some guarantees here."

"Oh come now Mr. Spike it is rumoured that you have defeated a God, killed slayers, we are all gentlemen here."

"No, I told you before, I am a vampire. I'll need something more than flattery. Have a nice day." The last was said in his best Stateside accent.

As he reached the other side of the street Lincoln Viscotti caught up with him. "Listen, Vampire, we need you to catch the beast. Circe herself is after us. You are the only one that can do this. No other demon hunter will touch this job. If you take it on you will be remitted for your trouble. You can retain Scylla until the operation is complete. Do we have a deal?" He thrust a calling card into Spike's hand. Spike took it and put it in his pocket.

"I'll think about it."

The meeting with the Viscotti brothers had taken longer than he thought. Now he was going to be late to Giles. To save time he cut through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. The last thing he expected was a seemingly very pissed off Xander to jump out at him.

"Just where the hell d'you go?" Xander snapped. "I wake up…no vampire! No trace of vampire! Was my snoring bothering you?"

"Went out. Needed something to eat."

"With three full bags in the refrigerator? What, none in chocolate chip?"

"Hmm, yes, Xander was definitely pissed off." Mused Spike.

"I left you a note, said I'd be back, just got a little way laid that's all. Don't know what you're in such a two and eight about. Anyone would think we were lovers the way you carry on." Spike tried to move the conversation away from where he'd been. He didn't want to tell Xander just yet, if ever. It really depended on the final outcome.

"Oh, you want to say that a little louder, Fangless? Come on, I don't think Deadboy quite heard yah!"

Now it was Spike's turn to be pissed off. "There's no one here. I really don't think the whispering grass will tell the trees cos the trees don't need to know. If you don't want me around just tell me to sling me 'ook and I'll fuck off. I can't be arsed with all this shit."

Xander looked shocked and that unhappy, puppy dog stare always made his vampire melt. Spike couldn't resist. He didn't want to be angry with the boy and he certainly didn't want to leave.

"Look I'm sorry." He said. "It's just I want us to be happy and I don't think we can if we're hiding all the time and we don't trust each other. I did leave you a note. I put it next to the microwave. Obviously you didn't see it before you left. When we get home I'll show you, eh?"

Xander nodded, but he'd made himself soup before he left and there was no note, he was sure of it. Still he didn't want to argue any more either. It was making him feel sick. He was so confused his head spun. He really wanted to trust the vampire but there were things, real, big, scary, important things, which he just needed time to work through. If only they weren't living in his parents basement for a start.

They walked together the rest of the way in silence.

"Four nights ago, Spike came to me and told me he'd witnessed a new evil on the Hellmouth." Giles began, when they were all seated.

"Oh Giles, how much did you pay him this time?" Said Willow in a sympathetic voice.

"Hey!" Exclaimed Spike indignantly.

"Actually I didn't. He volunteered the information."

"Hah." Said a very self-satisfied vampire. The more he did things like that the more Xander would know he could trust him.

"Since then I have been doing some research and I believe what we are dealing with, is Scylla." They all looked blank, except for Spike of course.

"She was one of two monsters who were said to have inhabited the Straits of Messina between Italy and Sicily. Mariners who sailed that way couldn't avoid both of them. Charybdis was a great whirlpool and Scylla a six-headed demon. Odysseus, in Homer's great epic, chose to sail closer to Scylla and thereby lost only six of his men and not the entire ship."

"Yeah until he had to come back again." Spike chimed in. "Then the ship was empty so he decides chance his arm with Charybdis, whole fucking ship gets sucked into the back of beyond and he survives by climbing the mast and catching hold of a bloody great fig tree, hanging there 'til the bleeding thing comes back up again."

The other five stared at him open mouthed.

"What? I can read! I had to do something before they invented telly."

"How do we kill it?" Xander asked.

A cloud fell over Giles' face and he shook his head. "We don't." He said. "Scylla is a true immortal."

Chapter Five

Giles had searched every book and manuscript on the shop floor and now he was up on the gallery where the more dangerous arcane items were kept. He rubbed his temples in tired frustration. There had to be something. Something he'd missed. Nothing was completely impossible to destroy. He found what he was looking for, descended the ladder, with the scrolls under his arm, and then lost his grip.

"Hey G-man." Said Xander, arriving just in time to catch the falling rolls of ancient paper.

"Be careful with those. They are three thousand years old."

"And yet more sprightly than you, right now."

"If you can't be helpful go away."

Giles put on white cotton gloves, gently unrolled one of the scrolls and peered at it. Xander looked over the librarian's shoulder. "Well it's all Greek to me." He said.

"Actually you're right it is Greek, hopefully Homer's original Odyssey. I'm hopeful that there may be something in the primary text that could have been edited out in later versions."

"Okay…. Could I maybe go and buy you a needle rather than search the haystack?!"

Giles frowned and shook his head. "I'm having trouble with the translation. This is written in a dialect I'm not familiar with."

Xander suddenly made the 'I'm having an idea' face. "Spike." He said. "Spike told me he reads Greek."

"Yes, and he was at Woodstock, fought in both the American and English Civil Wars and probably attended the Crucifixion. Vampires talk big and that one talks enormous."

All at once Xander felt a need to defend his vampire. "Well, then its time to call him on it. If he chokes, then revenge is a moral imperative. You can raze the hell out of him and never let him live it down. Er…unlive it?"

When Spike arrived, moaning and whining about being dragged out in the middle of the day, he peered at the text and scratched his head. "Can't read it." He muttered. Giles started to look smugly at Xander, when the vampire dashed out to the car under his old blanket and came back with a silver case. Opening it, he took out his spectacles, put them on and then peered at the text again. Giles blinked several times in surprise. The look reminded Xander of a large, tweed dressed owl.

Spike began to mumble to himself. Then he dropped his glasses onto the scroll and laughed. "Where d'you get this Watcher? It's complete dog pile."

"Well I …er…borrowed it from the museum when I left. I rather liked the case."

"You half inched it you mean. You're a worse tealeaf than I am. It certainly ain't the original. Not the right sorta Greek. Not that Homer was a writer anyway. Wouldn't 'ave writ it down. Na, some Alexandrian scribe did this. Egyptian most like. See 'ere, take a butcher's at this line."

Spike showed Giles the missed spelled words and incorrect grammar in the text. Giles couldn't work out how he had missed them. He was starting to gain a modicum of respect for the vampire, which made him uneasy.

All three of them pondered for some time. Spike was the first to speak.

"Xanpe…Xander, in the big brown suitcase at my place," It wasn't exactly subtle but he was trying. "There are three or four scrolls that look just like this. Go get 'em, errand boy." Being rude helped. If Xander wanted to play the 'I'm not shagging the vampire, honest' game he would just have to wear it. Besides Spike was covering his Freudian slip.

Xander went. "His place! Hah, you pay-a de rent, you do-a de laundry, you own-a de place. Am I right? Se, Don Alex, you are right." He found the suitcase easily, opened it and searched inside. There were foreign coins, chocolate box ribbons, postcards and even some First and Second World War medals. There were also larger things, drawings of Buffy, books, a Chinese silk fan and a long red jewellery case. Xander was still cross with Spike so he opened it. Inside was the most beautiful ruby necklace. The stones glittered and twinkled. Each one was set in a delicate mounting of gold and the chain was so fine you could have threaded a needle with it. The object was breath taking.

With it was a small piece of paper. Xander opened it and read:

Bitter Sweet Valentine

When the woods of Arcady are dead,
And the sun bleeds into the sea.
When purity cowers in dread,
Then there will be you and me.

Evil shall scream with passion,
And Satan proclaim Jubilee.
Pain and death shall become the new fashion,
And the trendsetters shall be you and me.

When the stars go out one by one,
And each one has forgotten its name.
Forever they'll be,
Just you and me,
Love to be our eternal flame.

Yours forever,
Sweet William.

Xander dropped the box like he'd been bitten. For a moment he was shaken. Did Spike still love Drusilla? Had he been toying with the brunette all the time? No, it wasn't possible. He flicked at the ring on his left hand. Immediately he understood. It was no mystery why Spike had these things. Xander had been married for exactly one hour, thirty-seven minutes and eleven seconds. He still wore his ring. Spike had been Drusilla's consort for over a century. All this showed was that the demon was capable of immense love. Xander then knew he'd be lucky if he even felt a fraction of it. Nevertheless he wished Spike wouldwrite poetry for him or even choose a favourite verse or line.

When he got back with the scrolls the two Englishmen immediately got to work. Realising they needed to work unhindered, Xander excused himself and went back home. He had a suitcase to finish unpacking!

Giles demanded to know where Spike had got the manuscripts.

"The library at Alexandria."

The Watcher looked at the blond vampire with derision.

"Okay, I stole them from a God after I'd pulled his frigging head off. But they are from the library and they're good translations. They also have notes written in the margins. If you're looking for something extra, it's here."

They worked on into the evening and for a while it was comfortable. They talked about home, football, cricket and tea. They remembered places they had visited and shared jokes. They reminisced about the Royals, the Sun newspaper and the rain. They were just two Brits far from home but, as the night wore on, Giles became tenser until he could stand it no more.

"Spike, the Council have requested that I deal with the Slayer killing filth in our midst."

Spike stood up and faced the Watcher. He could hardly believe what he'd just heard. "Me? And just how do they propose you deal with me? Stake me? I can't defend myself."

"How many of your victims couldn't defend themselves."

"Not that many actually. I like a fair fight, me."

"And the Slayers?"

"You saying Slayers can't defend themselves?"

"Postulants, young girls, girls like Dawn." He expected Spike to be angry, defiant, bold, but in his glasses with his hair ungelled he just looked like a lad who was lost and confused. Giles knew it was an illusion, that he couldn't be fooled by the demon in this way and shouldn't fall under its spell, but it was so hard to resist.

"Okay Watcher, assassinate me. Go on right here." Spike indicated his heart and then spread his arms. He stood in such a way that he looked as if he was about be crucified.

Giles didn't move. "Why did Spike have to do this? Why couldn't monsters stay monstrous?" He thought.

"Or maybe you can't face me, can't look at me in the eye. What if I turned my back?" Spike remained in position, arms outstretched and turned. Now he had his back to the watcher.

"No good. No, well, you're right you might miss. No good being a clumsy assassin. Better off being the executioner. Take me head. I'll just put it here for you."

With one swift, angry movement he swept the papers aside with his arm so that they spilt onto the floor and laid his head on the desk.

"Nice bit of mahogany you have here, Watcher. Now go careful with that sword. I hear French polishers can be expensive."

Giles finally spoke, "Spike, stop it. The Council don't want me to destroy you. They want me to bring you back to England."

"What!" Spike was instantly standing in front of the Watcher again. "Are they going to try me? For crimes against humanity? Tell them they're on the wrong side to play Nuremberg."

"You can't compare the Council to the Nazis." Giles was trying to convince himself as much as Spike. His experiences with the Council since childhood, suggested that the comparison was more than fair.

"I can and I will. I've turned Nazis. Soon stopped mind. There was no bloody difference. They behaved as though they were soulless before and after. It gave me the creeps. Not that they were soulless of course. It's very easy for you lot isn't it? All the evils of the world must be demonic. You couldn't have created any of your own could you? I've got news for you, Mate. Vlad he was one of us, Genghis, Stalin, Ivan, Adolf, they all belong to you. They all had souls as did everyone who worked under them. Six million people. Six million. I couldn't kill six million if I survived 'til I was permanently game faced and cloven hoofed. Six million. Men, women and children. People turned into soap and lampshades." He paused for unneeded breath.

The respect that the Watcher had been developing for the young vampire had not diminished with the impassioned outburst and now he was coming to a decision. Spike continued his speech.

"The reason the Junta back home want to try me is just so they can parade Spike, Slayer of Slayers, in all his ignominy. The Big Bad brought down. Only they didn't do it did they? And that's what really sticks in their craw. Some jumped up little colonial tin soldiers just got lucky and some old, now what was the word you used - yes, harridan decided to play Mengele.

Let me ask you, how many vegetarian demons did she kill, just 'cos they had the right bits of anatomy for her creation? And how many vampires disappeared to dust on an operating table, before she got this chip thing right?"

He suddenly looked sad and deflated. "Take me back to Blighty. You won't be able to keep me out of the sun long enough to stand trial."

Both man and beast stood mirroring each other. Each took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Both unexpectedly laughed. Giles had made his decision.

"I'm not taking you back, William. I need you here and if they come to get you, I'll defend you, just do me one favour."

"I'm yours, Watcher."

"Don't let me have made the wrong choice."

Late that night, Spike found a call box. He took the card from his pocket and dialled the number. When the Sicilian answered, he spoke three words…

"I'll do it."

Chapter Six

It had been nearly a week since Spike had first seen the monster and the 'Scooby Gang' machinery had started to roll. Now it was time to bring all the elements together into a plan, and whatever that plan was, Spike would report to the Viscotti's.

They were all seated around the large table in the back of the shop. Dawn twiddled her long brown hair. Willow muttered to herself as she put the finishing touches to a spell. Xander and Spike sat on opposite sides of the table. "Could we be any more obvious?" Xander thought.

"Do you wish to begin, Spike?"

"Na, your show Watcher. I'll just interrupt."

"Oh, what joy." Giles deadpanned. "Well, we know Scylla is immortal however upon a closer inspection of the text we find that Odysseus had considered a plan to kill her. He actually asked the Goddess Circe if it were possible. Circe then cries, 'So you are not prepared to give in even to immortal gods? I tell you Scylla was not born for death: the fiend will live forever. She is a thing to be shunned, intractable, ferocious and impossible to fight. No; against her there is no defence and valour lies in flight.' She goes on to say that if he delays to put on his armour then Scylla will try again and take more of his men. She is fast."

Xander waved his hand, "But not 'vampire fast' right?"

"Possibly not, but Spike cannot take her alone."

"Yeah," Spike added, "And she might just bite me loaf off before she finds out…"

"Oh deal. Like you ever use it?" Dawn chipped in.

"…I'm not edible!" He finished. "Cheeky tyke. No more homework help for you."

Willow, with her nose still buried in her books, said, "I think, I might, have a slowy time spell or it could be a chant against warts." She looked up to find them all staring at her with worried looks. "That was a funny, people. Ha ha?"

"I can modify it so that it only slows time for the monster. Tricky, but doable. Now here comes the not so good bit, I have to keep up with the chanting, no fighty fighty for the spell caster."

Spike decided he should add his bit to the conversation. "That still leaves us with how the fuck do we do the old girl in? Next to the passage Book Man just read there were some notes. Circe says that Odysseus should pray to Crataeis, the creature's mum and she will stop a second helping of Greek sailor but Crataeis ain't the only thing credited with birthing the bitch."

"Certainly not." Said Giles. "Echidna and Lamia also have that dubious honour and Circe herself may have turned her into the monster."

"The notes say that all of Echidna's kids can be destroyed with the sword of their father, the giant, Typhus and…" The next bit Spike said in a singsong voice, "…I know where the sword is."

It seemed that everything mystical converged on one Hellmouth or another eventually. The Spanish who had settled in the area had brought with them many things. Typhus' sword had been given to the Moorish leaders by the Turks and taken to Spain. Eventually making its way to the Hellmouth. It was in the samecrypt as the Gem of Amara had been.

Xander and Spike were to go and get the sword. They would meet the others down by the docks later. As they got to the door, Willow heard Spike say, "You go on, Sunshine, I'll catch you up."

She didn't trust the vampire. She liked him in a strange 'he wants to kill you but he can't' sort of way but vampires by their very nature were duplicitous. "It would by kinda helpy if he ever used a person's name." She thought.

She followed him to the phone box on the corner of the street. Casting a 'see me, hear me' spell, she sat on a bench as if just taking the air, and listened.

Spike phoned the Viscotti's. "I wonder if they're good with coffee?" He thought as he waited for the phone to be answered. "We have a plan." He said, when it was finally picked up. "We can kill the beast."

"No." Said Martin Viscotti, "Allow them to kill her and it's off. We must bring her back alive."

"I don't know what you want with the Whelp anyway. The puppy'd be better off dead but I need this chip thing gone so I guess it's your shout."

Willow was in a state of shock. Whelp? Wasn't that one of Spike's nicknames for Xander? He used so many. He was trying to get the chip removed. He was going to kill them all! She ran back to the magic shop.

Spike continued his conversation, unaware of the panic in the red headed witch. "So how do I catch her?"

"Injure her and she'll slow down but recover. Just don't take the last head or go for the heart. We caught her before. We have the items necessary. Slow her down and we'll do the rest."

Then Spike hung up the phone and went to find Xander. Inside the magic shop however the panic and anger was rising. Without the Slayer, an unchipped Master Vampire could be extremely bad news.

 

Continue

*AUTHOR'S NOTES:

The sonnet used in Chapter Four is Shakespeare's Sonnet 136. Originally this was why Spike's initials in these stories were WH. Shakespeare wrote a number of his sonnets to a young man with these initials and Spike was going to make a great deal of the fact that his initials were the same. Unfortunately this was a dark lady sonnet so bang went that plot line. I was Jossed by Shakespeare, go figure!!

Some references in Chapter Five are from the Spike and Dru book, 'Pretty Maids all in a Row' by Christopher Golden and published by Pocket Books. It's a great story and well worth a read. I think it actually knocks spots off 'Fool for Love' but then again I'm in full denial over that episode. The poem is my own.