Where Angels Tread
By Spike SpeigelInterview With A Bastard
Spike lay on the grass, a feeling of disorientation overcoming him. He opened his eyes, wondering why he was looking up at the stars. His thought was quickly answered when the face came into view, those yellow eyes staring into his very being. Spike could only guess that’s what those eyes were doing. He wasn’t entirely sure because he couldn’t take his eyes away from the poof’s hair. Did it actually get bigger?
“You know. I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Spike answered, not able to contain himself. “What? You run out of hairgel so you came to pinch mine?”
Angel growled as he bent over, yanking Spike up violently, slamming him against the trunk of the damaged tree. “Well, I could think of worse last words. But I was certain yours would have been more poetic.”
“Yeah. Well, if those are my last words, I can do better.”
Angel contemplated Spike’s sarcastic retort before lifting his hand from his side, his vampiric speed creating a blur. However, Spike picked up on the motion, moving his hand in front of his chest as the stake plunged into his hand, blood spraying onto his shirt. As Spike thought about the near fatal blow Angel had tried to deliver, Spike closed his hand about the stake, holding it mere inches from his heart as Angel continued to push against the barrier now in front of him.
Angel flashed a grin to the man pinned against the tree, enjoying the moment as he spoke. “Didn’t think you’d see that coming.”
As the blood continued to freely pour from Spike’s hand, he spoke. “Well, I’m full of surprises.” Before Angel could reply, Spike’s face quickly morphed, taking Angel aback at the gaze now looking back at him.
“Your eyes.”
While Angel remained startled by Spike’s vampire face with human eyes, Spike took advantage of the moment. His forehead crashed against Angel’s, the dark haired individual stumbling backwards. Spike lunged forward, his shoulder squared as he slammed the brunt of his weight against Angel’s chest. Angel exhaled sharply, air escaping his lips as he was propelled into the air, falling painfully onto the ground. Before Angel could get to his feet, Spike planted his knee against his chest, holding him secure as he spoke.
“Told you, mate. I’m just full of surprises.”
Angel’s hand flew from his side, clenching Spike’s throat with his fingers. Spike moved just as quickly, the stake embedded in his hand now pressed against Angel’s heart. As Angel squeezed, his fingers breaking the skin about Spike’s throat, he spoke. “All I have to do is squeeze.”
Spike sneered at the vampire, speaking in a deadly serious tone. “And all I have to do is push.”
Both men stood their ground, neither willing to give an inch. As their gaze locked, hatred and contempt overcoming both, the light that now poured over their bodies got their attention.
“Angel!?!”
Both men turned to the porch of the Summers’ household, Buffy standing in the doorway, the rest of the women behind her. Angel’s face slid back to his human countenance as he spoke, his grip now relaxing around Spike’s throat. “This isn’t what it looks like, Buffy.”
“Good. Because it looks like you’re about to rip Spike’s throat out.” The women moved onto the front lawn, both Summers evidently angry at the scene now in front of them.
Spike couldn’t help but smirk at the man lying under his knee, reveling in the fact that Buffy was taking his side. However, the smirk quickly vanished as Buffy yanked him away from Angel, forcefully pushing him backwards. Spike winced at the motion, the stake embedded in his hand twisting under Buffy’s handling. Buffy recoiled at the tactile sensation of the warm fluid on her hand, finally realizing that Spike was injured.
“Spike?”
“S’nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. Let me see.”
As Buffy gently caressed Spike’s arm, her free hand carefully examining the damage inflicted by the stake, Angel rose from the ground, confusion enveloping him. Why would Buffy care if Spike were hurt? Dawn moved over to her sister, examining the wound as well. As Angel stood there, his confusion doubling at the sight of both women tending to the vampire, Willow spoke. “So, what brings you back to town?”
Angel turned around, forgetting that Willow was also present. And someone he didn’t recognize. “Business. Had a lead I needed to follow up on.”
Spike condescendingly replied upon hearing the reason his would be assassin was back in town. “Oh, is that right?” Spike pushed past the sisters, making his way over to where Angel now stood with Willow and Tara. As he neared Angel’s position, the raven-haired vampire morphed once again upon seeing Spike violently tearing the stake from his hand. With one deft move, he tossed the bloodied stake to the ground, his body now a blur as he grabbed hold of Angel’s face. The blood smeared across Angel’s face as Spike pushed him down upon the ground once again, the anger evident in his tone. “Must have been one hell of a lead if you came all this way just to kill me.”
Angel wiped his forearm across his face, trying to resist the urge to bring his blood-smeared skin to his lips. “Not like I ever needed a reason to kill you, you son of a…”
Buffy’s words interrupted the conflict, her mind trying to comprehend what exactly was happening. “Shut up, Angel! Both of you!”
Spike gingerly flexed his wounded hand, noticing that the bleeding had slowed even though it had been mere minutes since it was inflicted on his person. As Spike focused on this observation, Buffy continued. “What do you mean he tried to kill you?”
Spike frowned as he held his hand up in front of his face, his eye peering through the hole that was once occupied by the stake. “I’m sorry. I guess he slipped when he pulled the stake out of his pocket.” Spike sighed in disgust when he saw the look of confusion that now graced Buffy’s countenance. Even after all they’d been through, she still had trouble trusting him. Of course she wouldn’t trust him. Not with Angel here.
Spike turned around, beginning to walk away from the group still collected on the lawn, when Buffy called out to him. “Where are you going?”
“What’s it look like?” Spike didn’t mean to snap back at her, but given the circumstances, he felt like he had every right to be rightfully pissed at the moment. “I’m going home. You let me know once that wanker’s gone. Or better yet. Don’t.” Angel lunged from the ground, Spike’s words hitting a nerve. However, as Angel closed in on Spike, he stopped in his tracks, dropping to his knees in pain. Spike effortlessly withdrew his elbow, pulling it back to his body. He never turned around as he continued to move away from the house, muttering to himself. “Probably need a goddamned shot.”
Buffy began to call out to Spike, but the hand on her shoulder got her attention. Buffy turned her gaze to the side, Willow now standing next to her. “You better let him go. I don’t think talking’s going to get you anywhere right now.” Buffy turned her gaze back to the sidewalk as Spike began to disappear across the horizon. Her eyes fell on Angel as he picked himself up, shaking his head as though he was trying to clear it of flotsam.
He turned around, making his way back to the women on the lawn, a slight grin on his face as he spoke. “Sorry about that, Buffy. Why you keep him alive, I’ll never…”
Angel never got the chance to finish his sentence, though, mainly because of the punch that landed against his nose from a very pissed off Slayer. Angel laid in the street, nursing his split lip as Buffy turned around, marching back to the house, anger permeating every fiber of her being.
The man had been looking at her for over an hour. While the other women at the bar had gladly left their seats once their companions greeted them, with a kiss and some playful dialogue, she remained. Looking down at the drink in front of her. Not nursing it, mind you. Because in order to nurse it, she’d have to actually take a sip from it first. No, instead she just sat there. Waiting for God knows what.
But that didn’t matter to the man sitting at the other end of the bar. All that mattered was that she was alone. That no one noticed her. And those that did notice her, she promptly dismissed with a quick smile and a subtle shake of her head. No one would possibly notice if she disappeared. Just like the fourteen other women before her.
All he had to do was bide his time and wait for the right moment. He hadn’t gotten this far by being careless. That just wasn’t an option for good ol’ Nick. One slip and he’d be discovered. He and his dirty little habit. While the first one had been an accident (Really. Who the hell breaks their neck from falling down a flight of stairs. No, not a flight. More like a speed bump.), Nick couldn’t help but notice the feeling that surged through him as he stood over her, that look of shock and fear on her face as she lay on the ground. Lifeless. And not able to call him a loser anymore. Not able to insult him anymore. Not able to hurt him with her words anymore.
But, what if it was a fluke? A one-time experience in his rather mundane life? So, Nick did what any other inquisitive person would do at such a crossroads. He tried it again. And again. And again. It wasn’t until the fifth woman (Judy? Julie? What was her name?) that Nick finally identified the feeling that encompassed his person after punishing them. The feeling was confidence. Superiority.
And it was something that Nick couldn’t live without. Not now. So, that’s why he sat at the other side of the bar, waiting and watching. Waiting to exact his vengeance on those that would belittle him. Waiting for that high that got him through the next moment.
As Nick reveled in his thoughts, he caught the movement from the corner of his eye. Something had gotten the young woman’s attention because she casually stood from the bar stool, making her way through the crowd of patrons and… Nick couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the turn of events that he was now experiencing. While he would normally have to follow them until they were alone, this woman was making it way too easy for him. Because she was now leaving the bar by means of the side exit. The same exit that connected to the alley in the back.
Nick ruefully smiled at his good fortune as he dropped a twenty on the bar to cover his tab. He continued to smile, anticipating the rush he was about to experience once he entered the alleyway. The rush of knowing that he was better than her. The rush of knowing that he’d experience another sunrise while this woman with the scarlet red hair wouldn’t.
He pushed the door open, slowly, methodically, and peered out into the alleyway. She wasn’t even making it a challenge. Instead, she just stood in the middle of the alleyway, far enough from the outlet to cover any screams she would undoubtedly release once he got his hands on her.
As the door clicked behind him, Nick casually sauntered over to the woman, his hand gently patting his pants pocket to make sure the bundle of silk was still there. It was a memento to celebrate his first victim. While the first death had been an accident, he wanted the second one to be special. So he waited until she went up to her apartment. He stood under her bedroom window, looking at her from across the street as she undressed, the blinds wide open. She had moxie, that one. Nick even remembered her name.
He whispered it over and over in her ear as he held her down, ripping away her panties. Monica. The name rolled off his tongue as he savored the feeling of her underneath him, struggling, thrashing. But then she started to scream. That loud, shrill sound. Like the sound of death. So, he did the first thing that came to mind. He wrapped the silken fabric around her throat, pulling it taut as it restricted her airflow. Monica. Her eyes were so beautiful as she looked at him, a look of hate and shock filling them. It was in that moment that Nick knew that this was right. That final gasp and that look in their eyes. It was all that he ever needed.
Nick grinned at the memory, quickening his pace toward the red-haired woman that just stood in the middle of the alleyway, looking straight ahead as though there was something there to see instead of an empty alley. There was no one around and the thumping techno music pouring out of the club covered any sound that she would eventually make as he began his ritual. So, Nick decided to take advantage of the situation. He decided to have fun.
“Hey, honey. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all by your lonesome?”
Nick expected to see a woman that was a bit startled by the sudden question as she turned around to face him. However, that didn’t happen. Instead, she remained stationary, her head now slightly tilted upward. Amazing. Even when he was the only one in the vicinity, he was still being ignored. It really didn’t matter much. Because in a few minutes, he’d be the only living person still in the alleyway.
Still, because it didn’t matter didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This never happened. Not since the first one. But, as the woman stood there in the middle of the alley, ignoring him, Nick couldn’t help but feel he was still that pathetic shell of a loser that women never noticed. His feet moved faster as he closed the distance, the anger beginning to build. How dare she ignore him? Bitch must have a death wish, that’s all. And who was Nick to deny her that wish.
“Hey, bitch. I’m talking to you.”
That got her attention all right. As Nick slowed his pace, the woman turned around, a look more befitting an annoyed person instead of an angry one now on her face. “I’m busy. Go away.”
Nick couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. She had no idea how busy things were about to get. “Why? The party’s about to start.” As the woman with the fiery red hair eyed him, a hint of confusion on her face, Nick slipped his hand into his pants pocket. Once his hand encircled the bundle of fabric, he slowly pulled it out of his pocket, balling the material into his hand. “Got something for you.”
Before the woman knew what was happening, Nick ran toward her, slamming her against the wall of the club. The fabric unwound in his hand, his other taking the free end. With one deft move, he wrapped the silken noose about the woman’s neck, not realizing that she never struggled. Instead, she looked on as Nick began to pull the material taut, his body pressed against hers.
His breathing began to become erratic as he relished the feel of the woman pinned against him, his fingers enjoying the sensation of the panties against her neck, stealing her essence. Her life. As Nick began to lose himself in the experience of claiming another victim, the laughter brought him back to reality. His eyes blinked in amazement as the woman’s laughter continued, a hint of amusement evident in her eyes. This was definitely a first for Nick. “What the hell are you laughing at?!?”
The uncharacteristically calm and composed woman spoke, a hint of joy in her voice. “Are you having a bad day, or what?”
Nick backed off slightly upon hearing the words, not a trace of fear or panic in them. “What are you doing?”
The answer came quickly. “Getting the requisite sympathy out of the way.” As Nick stood there, puzzlement overcoming him, a pain exploded across his chest as he stumbled backward. When the pain became bearable, Nick looked up at the woman who was flexing the fingers of her right hand; the panties now bundled in her left. “Still haven’t gotten used to how fragile you people are.”
Nick groaned as the words escaped between his lips. “Those are mine.”
“Don’t think so. Unless your name’s Monica.” Nick stared in horror as the name hovered unseen in the night air. “You like it when they struggle, don’t you? You get off on it, don’t you, you sick bastard. Isn’t that right, Nicky?” His horror grew at the declaration of his name.
“Who are you?!?”
The woman dropped the silken fabric to the ground as she walked closer to Nick, who began to step backwards, stumbling onto his knees as he did. Before he knew what was happening, the woman’s hand wrapped about his neck, pulling him back to his feet. Then she squeezed. “How does it feel, Nicky? Knowing that the life’s leaving your body.” Nick gasped for air, his hands clawing at the woman’s arm to no avail. “How does it feel, stud?”
As the blackness began to surround Nick, a distant voice echoed in his head causing the woman to loosen her grip. “Figures. We finally find you and you’re up to your old tricks.”
Nick frantically gasped for much need air when the woman released him, falling onto his knees. As he tried to wipe the tears now blurring his vision, the woman spoke.
“Gabriel.”
“You know that we’re not here for this. Correct me if I’m wrong, Haruna.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I seem to be a magnet for the dregs around here.” Her eyes moved to the man kneeling on the ground, Nick trying to comprehend what was happening. And, to think, she was supposed to be his easiest prey yet. Guess Nick overestimated. As Nick began to rise to his feet, a hand loudly clapped down on his shoulder. Nick would have screamed had his throat not been as sore as it was. Instead, he gasped sharply as the person behind him moved into his view.
“Well, you’re looking none the worse for wear. Thought you might not have made it, kid.”
Haruna softly chuckled as she spoke, Nick trying to will his heart to slow down. “You know, I’m older than you, Whistler.”
Gabriel sounded off, his deep voice almost echoing through the alley as he spoke. “We’re all older than him. He just thinks he’s the oldest.”
Whistler walked toward the duo, his hand adjusting his hat as he did so. “Well, when you’ve seen the things I’ve seen, it tends to pile the years on you. No one should have to suffer with the things I’ve seen.”
“Who the hell are you people?!?”
The group turned to the source of the noise, their eyes falling upon one thoroughly confused and very agitated murderer. Haruna nodded to herself as though she had just remembered something that needed to be done. She gently pushed her way past Whistler, her pace quickening as she neared her attacker. “I still need to deal with you, don’t I Nicky boy.”
As Nick angrily stood his ground, his mind still trying to comprehend what was happening and where exactly he lost control of the situation, Gabriel reiterated his stance. “We’re not here for this, Haruna.”
“I know. But if we walk away, there’s no chance in hell this perverted psycho’s not gonna stop. Ain’t that right, Nicky?”
There must have been something with the tone she was using with him, or maybe it was just the informality she now showed, throwing his name back at him as though he was an infant. Either way, Nick couldn’t handle the condescension anymore. “My name is Nick, you bitch!”
He expected her to be offended by his language, by his tone. Instead, Haruna just laughed at the situation. It was at that moment that Nick no longer cared about his well-being. They might have the numbers on him, but he’d be damned if he let this woman get out of the alleyway alive.
As Haruna’s laughter wafted through the night air, Nick lunged himself toward the woman that had ruined his night. Unfortunately, Haruna was quicker than he’d imagined, her hand coming violently down between his legs, constricting forcefully about what physically distinguished him as male. Nick bellowed as the tears came freely from his eyes, the pain too much to bear.
“What’s wrong, stud? Lost your bite?” Nick’s eyes darted to the woman that now held him at her mercy, another jolt of pain coursing through his body once again as Haruna clenched her fingers tighter. As Nick’s eyelids flew shut, tears streaming down his cheeks, Gabriel made his thoughts known.
“What are you going to do, Haruna? Castrate him?”
“Something like that. Let’s see how much damage this pecker can do without one.”
“Yeah. That’s really gonna alleviate the rage he’s got bubbling inside him.” Haruna looked over her shoulder, her grip still leaving Nick helpless. As she looked back, Whistler nodded his head as though he was trying to persuade her verbally as well as physically. She spoke, annoyance evident in her voice.
“He deserves this. You know I’m right.” Her gaze fell on Gabriel, his massive height casting a shadow between Haruna and Whistler. “So do you. Hell, you lived for this stuff.”
“Still do. Doesn’t change things. We’re not here for this.”
Haruna’s eyes darted from the towering mass to Whistler, a slight smirk evident on his face as he spoke. “Gotta agree with the big man here, slugger. Bigger and badder are the operative words for today.”
Her grip reluctantly loosened, Nick falling onto his knees once again as his hands instinctively flew to his now oversensitive area. Haruna sighed softly as she observed the shell of a man that now lay at her feet. She couldn’t just let this pathetic loser go. He’d most likely continue on his spree, this time with more vigor after tonight. Haruna knew she could never live with herself if another person died because of this man virtually sobbing between shallow breaths, his hands gingerly cupping his soreness.
But, she didn’t have the time to spend on Nick. There were more pressing matters at hand. She had broken the rules to get this far. And, she wasn’t going to risk it all for some idiot that felt inadequate around members of the opposite sex. But that nagging feeling was still in the back of her head that this idiot’s actions in the future would come back to haunt her if she didn’t do something. And like that, almost akin to an epiphany, the answer came to her.
Nick’s breathing came more steadily now, his eyes slightly opened as he continued to groan in pain. However, the pain wasn’t enough to curtail his anger, his mumbles floating through the alleyway. “Gonna kill you, bitch. Gonna kill you.” As Haruna grew in his view, he continued his mantra. “Shoulda killed me. Gonna kill you.” However, instead of focusing on his rage, he should have paid attention to Haruna’s right hand.
Her voice was calm, yet judgmental, as she spoke. “Hey, Nicky. Say cheese.”
As Nick looked up at the woman who had caused him so much grief, her hand moved in front of his face, an intense red glow emanating from it. Nick moved his arm up to shield his eyes, his voice still hoarse but still in pain as he bellowed out. Her two companions looked on, Gabriel shaking his head in disbelief as Whistler took off his hat, gently gripping the brim as he looked on. When the glow abated, Haruna turned around, never looking back as she walked past the two men still looking at her in awe.
“We’re done here. Let’s go.”
Gabriel followed her out of the alleyway, the techno music still thumping through the walls of the club and into the alleyway. Whistler hesitated for a bit, his gaze falling onto Nick as his screams continued. After a moment, Whistler hung his head for the man left in the alleyway, knowing all too well the truth that Nick would continue to deny until his voice failed him.
Quickly placing his hat onto his head, Whistler never looked back as Nick’s eyes continued to dart across the alleyway. How could everything go so dark all of a sudden? It didn’t make sense to Nick. That bitch did something to him. That was it. While Nick’s eyes rapidly blinked, as though he was trying to remove some foreign matter from them, he finally realized that even though his throat was sore from his screams, he couldn’t hear them. The fact of the matter was, he couldn’t hear anything as well.
Angel sat on the couch as Willow gently dabbed at his upper lip with a moist paper towel. As the two former friends sat in the living room, Angel slightly grimacing at Willow’s medical assist, his confusion filled the silence. “Why is she mad at me?”
Willow gently smiled; easing the pressure she was applying to the cut upon seeing Angel’s discomfort. “I think Buffy should answer that question.”
“Willow.”
She looked into his eyes, the confusion more evident than ever. Willow pulled the towel from his lip, carefully considering her response. “Look, all I can say is that you messed up. Big time.”
Angel considered her words, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together Willow’s cryptic answer. “What did I do? I came back here to stop Spike. That’s all.”
The confusion now extended to Willow, still not comprehending Angel’s reason for coming back to Sunnydale. “Wait. Stop Spike? Stop him from what?”
“From ending the world.”
“What?” She didn’t mean to laugh, but the thought of Spike doing something that reprehensible seemed more foreign as she got to know him. “Spike wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh yeah? And you’ve got what? His word?”
“More than that.” Willow’s tone turned from a casual to serious one upon remembering that night in the cemetery. Spike had been the one to save the world. And she had been the one that tried to stop it.
Angel looked at her, a quizzical look on his face as he spoke. “Care to clarify?”
Willow took a deep breath as she laid the paper towel onto the coffee table. “He died while stopping me.” Angel looked at her, his look of confusion magnifying as the seconds ticked by. “He stopped me from opening the gates to Hell.”
“What?” Willow gently tapped her knees with her hands as she moved from the coffee table, taking a seat next to Angel on the couch. Angel turned his gaze to her, noting the look of distress now apparent on her face. “Willow? What happened?”
Willow looked at him, a small smile on her face as she spoke. “After I brought Buffy back from…” Angel nodded, Willow relieved that he understood. That was one mistake that she’d never be able to make up to Buffy. “Well, things started happening. Buffy pulled away from us. Xander started doubting whether or not he should marry Anya. Dawn began to steal things. Giles left. Tara left me because I started to become addicted to the magic.”
“And Spike was behind this?”
Willow sighed as she spoke. “Boy, you really do listen to every third word, don’t you?” Angel tilted his head, his eyebrow raised in mock apprehension as Willow continued her narrative. “Spike was…” It would probably be better if Buffy told him about this part, so Willow deftly sidestepped the issue. “Spike was, well, Spike.”
“Figures.”
Both friends shared a laugh before Willow continued. “Well, with everyone going their separate ways, I started falling back to magic for comfort. The problem was, I couldn’t get enough. I needed more. I always needed more.” Willow turned her gaze downward, not wanting to look as Angel as she revealed her shame. “So, with some help, I decided to open the Hellgate and siphon the energy from it, knowing that opening the gate would tear the earth apart.”
The awkward silence remained in the air, Angel uncertain of whether he should say something or not. Finally, he spoke. “And Spike stopped you?” Willow nodded. However, there was still one part of her story that didn’t add up. “But, I thought you said Spike died?”
“He did.” Willow finally looked up as she spoke. “I’m not really sure what happened because I just got up.”
“Got up?”
Willow gently smiled as she realized that Angel didn’t know about her previous condition. “I was in a coma for three months.” As Angel tried to process this newly given information, Willow silently spoke. “As far as I know, Tara did something to me that allowed Spike to attack me. So, instead of the energy staying in me, Spike drained it out of me.”
The realization finally registered. “Spike drank from you.”
“Yep.”
“But, that much energy. It would…”
Willow finished his sentence. “…kill him.” Angel looked on as Willow began speaking again. “Spike closed the gate. Spike stopped Armageddon.” She gently exhaled, the last fact always lingering in the back of her mind. “Spike saved my life.”
Angel responded, a hint of dismay in his voice. “Doesn’t sound like the Spike I know.”
“People change. You, of all people, should know that.”
He looked at Willow, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What are you talking about?”
“Cordelia.”
“Oh.” Angel didn’t realize that he had bitten his lip until he tasted the blood upon his tongue. “Oh.” He reached out for the paper towel, Willow looking on in surprise. Angel pointed to his lip, indicating the reason for his action. As he held the paper towel to his lower lip, Willow interrupted the silence.
“I know it’s been a while since I’ve talked to her because of what’s happened recently, but I could tell from our past conversations that she’s changed. And I’m guessing you’re partly responsible.”
Angel moved the napkin away from his lip; the material dabbled in his blood. “Cordy’s a good person. She would have figured that out sooner or later.”
Willow smiled at the observation. While most of the group had been accustomed to calling Cordelia by her full name, Angel had used a nickname when speaking of her. “Cordy, huh?”
Angel looked at Willow, a hint of confusion on his face. As Willow’s smile grew, Angel finally realized what was going through her mind. “Wait. It’s not what you think.”
“What isn’t?” Willow sat back, her grin still plastered on her face as her voice indicated only innocence while her mind reflected something more mischievous.
“Cordy and me.” Willow raised her eyebrow upon hearing the name again, Angel catching her nonverbal jab. “Cordelia. She’s just a friend.”
“I believe you.”
Angel stumbled for a response, words failing him at the moment. All the while, Willow just sat there, a grin on her face. “Sure, we’ve gotten closer over the years, but that’s all. It can’t be anything more or else…” Willow nodded, indicating to Angel that she remembered the clause that came attached to his soul. “Besides, we’re just friends.”
“You already said that.”
Angel frowned, knowing that the only way to get out of this conversation would be to segue out of it. Quickly. “Um. So, where’s Buffy?”
Willow tilted her head toward the staircase. “In her room. Tara and Dawn are trying to calm her down.”
The confusion arose once again as Angel spoke. “I still don’t know what I did wrong.”
Willow smiled as she rose from the couch, heading into the kitchen to get something to drink. “Don’t worry. You will.”
As she disappeared through the archway, Angel remained on the couch nursing his lip as he pondered Willow’s last words to him.
“That stupid, arrogant, self-centered jerk!”
“You forgot poncer.”
Buffy eyed her sister as she continued pacing at the foot of her bed. “Poncer?”
“Well, that’s what Spike calls him. I think it’s because of the hair.”
Tara smiled as Dawn’s head lay against the witch’s arm, both looking at Buffy from the confines of the bed. “I know it’s the first time I’ve seen him, but does his hair always look like that?” Buffy looked at Tara quizzically, Tara clarifying her query. “Is it supposed to stick up like that?”
Buffy’s pace slowed as the words, a small grin emerging on her face. “It does stick up, doesn’t it?”
Tara responded quickly, light-heartedly. “Well, unless my sense of direction’s shot.”
“Shoots up to the bloody moon, it does!” Both women turned their gaze to Dawn who remained on the bed, a slight grin on her face as she tried to do her best Spike impersonation. Before they knew it, the laughter filled the room, Buffy doubling over at the image of Spike saying those words, Tara and Dawn chortling on the bed.
As the laughter subsided, Buffy managed to straighten herself back to a standing position, her arms now folded about her chest. “Spike didn’t really say that, did he?”
“Uh huh.” Dawn sat up on the bed, her legs folded beneath her as she spoke. “I asked him once about Angel. I knew I had memories of him, but I never really met him since I was this glowy Key thing.” Buffy nodded as Dawn continued. “So, I asked him to tell me about Angel.”
“When was this?”
Dawn continued looking forward, trying to recollect the moment. “After Glory tortured him. I’d go over to his crypt and make sure he was okay.”
Buffy nodded as she finally realized the truth. “So, that’s why you were late from school those few weeks. I always wondered why Janice never got tired of you going over to her place.”
Dawn mockingly frowned at her sister as she continued her story. “Well, after a while, it got comfortable being around Spike. Knowing what he did for me.” Tara nodded as Buffy gently smiled at the image of Dawn and Spike sharing a moment. “So, we’d talk about things until one day I asked about Angel.”
“What did he say?”
Tara chimed in, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Yeah? I can’t imagine it’d be anything flattering.”
Dawn propped her elbows on her lap as she leaned forward, her chin nestled in the cups of her hands. “It was weird. I knew there was this animosity between the two of them, but Spike never said a bad word about Angel. Besides the crack about the hair, it sounded like Spike almost envied Angel.”
This time it was Buffy’s curiosity getting the better of her. “What makes you say that?”
Dawn looked up at her sister, her voice soft as she spoke. “His voice. The tone of it. He was so sad whenever he spoke about Angel.” Dawn paused for a moment before speaking again. “I think he was jealous of the fact that you loved Angel but didn’t love him.”
Buffy opened her mouth slightly, but quickly closed it as she realized the ramifications of Spike’s last words to her as he left the front yard earlier that night.
I’m going home. You let me know once that wanker’s gone. Or better yet. Don’t.
“Oh, God.” Buffy quickly moved to the bed, grabbing her jacket as she moved to the bedroom door. Tara called out to her as she began to turn the handle.
“What’s wrong, Buffy?”
She briefly looked back before continuing out into the hallway. “I think Spike just broke up with me.”
Angel rose from the couch as he heard the footfalls on the steps. As he walked through the archway connecting the living room to the front door, Buffy came into view. She was too occupied with putting on her jacket to notice that Angel was now standing by the foot of the stairs.
“Buffy?”
Buffy looked down at the voice, Angel now standing in front of the stairs, blocking her way. “Angel, I have to go. We can talk later.”
Angel gently chuckled at the words. “Later? But we have to find Spike and stop him.”
To say that Angel’s words angered her would be an understatement. Before Angel knew what was happening, Buffy grabbed him by the shirt collar, slamming him against the wall. “Look. I don’t know why you have this hard-on for Spike, but you have no idea what’s happened here this past year. So, find out all the facts so you can stop putting your foot in your mouth!”
Angel remained speechless as Buffy moved past him and out of the front door. However, as soon as the door slammed closed, Angel snapped out of his reverie, moving quickly through the door and after her. “Buffy, wait!”
Unfortunately for Angel, she did no such thing. Instead, she continued her insistent pace down the sidewalk toward Spike’s apartment complex, that small nagging voice becoming a deafening scream the more she thought about Spike’s last words to her.
Or better yet. Don’t.
What could he have possibly meant by that? It wasn’t like Spike had thrown up a bunch of five dollar words when saying goodbye earlier that night. You know those words. The same words your professor used to solely complicate the lecture when he could have gotten from point a to point b just by using common sense instead of flaunting his enormous intellect, even though everyone around him already knew he was something of a genius. The ‘Dr.’ in front of his name was kind of a hint.
Instead, Spike had used four simple, commonplace words. The problem that Buffy faced at the moment was with the combination they had been used. After everything they had been through the past few months, would Spike honestly think she’d throw it away because of…
“Would you just stop?”
Buffy didn’t even realize that Angel was standing in front of her until he spoke. Stupid heightened speed. How come Slayers didn’t get that as part of the package, anyway? Buffy feared the day when a vampire would put two and two together and actually get four. In her case, discovering that their vampiric speed was one attribute she wasn’t actually well matched against. Luckily for her, the nightlife of Sunnydale tended to be a bit on the ‘special’ side. Probably something in the water as it seeped through the cemetery grounds.
However, that was the last thing on her mind. Right now, Buffy had to get to Spike’s apartment and make certain that she was just imagining the whole incident as it played out earlier that night. Unfortunately, there was one obstacle in her way at the moment.
“I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but I’m on your side here.”
Buffy sighed in frustration, realizing that she wasn’t going anywhere. Not until she finished having her mandatory ‘talk it out’ with Angel. “It’s complicated.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to me.”
As Buffy’s shoulders slumped, Angel could see that she wasn’t in a talkative mood right about now. In fact, when they had met after her death, she didn’t talk much that night as well.
Instead, she just sat across from him in that filthy diner that doubled as a truck stop, her arms folded in her lap as her french fries lay in front of her, unattended. She just sat there as Angel spoke.
On the phone, she sounded as though she had missed him. That she needed him. But as she sat across from him, the wooden table covered with a glass panel and metal siding wasn’t the only thing separating them. Angel could see that from her eyes; she seemed so far away. As though she wasn’t even there with him.
However, Angel continued to fill the silence, recounting the past year for her. While he skipped over the less wholesome parts such as ravaging Darla, lighting her and Drusilla on fire, and leaving a room of lawyers locked away to face certain death, he nevertheless told her about his year. Merely because he didn’t know what else to say.
She looked so different than the last time he saw her. Her eyes reflected a maturity that he never noticed when he still lived in Sunnydale. As though she was carrying the weight of the world. As he continued to recall the events of the past year, Buffy finally spoke, either because she was genuinely curious or she was getting tired of his monotonous voice.
“How’s Cordelia?”
“She’s good. It was a little touch and go at first, but she’s okay.”
“Touch and go?”
Angel awkwardly smiled, his lips slightly tugging to one side as he realized that Buffy had no idea what Cordelia had been through over the past year. With Doyle passing his gift from the Powers to Cordelia, she had become their contact to whatever dangers the Powers deemed actionable.
“Well, let’s just say Cordy’s not the same person you knew back in high school.”
“What? You mean she’s not a total bitch anymore?” Angel just stared at Buffy, his mouth hanging slightly open upon hearing the words. Did Buffy just insult Cordelia? That’s when he saw it. The corner of her mouth pulled slightly upward, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “Kidding.”
He sighed slightly, partly at the fact that Buffy was acting somewhat like herself and partly because Buffy didn’t really insult Cordelia. While Buffy was his ex, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sit with her now if she had really meant what she said about Cordelia. Even though they were just friends, Cordelia deserved better. “Glad to hear it. So, how are you doing?”
The smile quickly disappeared from Buffy’s face, the look of numbness reappearing once again. Her hand slowly moved from her lap, a finger gently poking a fry, the heat long vacated, leaving behind a cold, stale remnant of what really embodied a french fry in the first place. As she looked down at the plate in front of her, she gave her response. The same one she had used with her friends. With Giles. “I’m good. I’m here.”
Angel looked at the woman he had once dedicated his entire life to, considering his words before he spoke. “Buffy. I remember what it was like when I came back. How much it hurt.” He paused slightly, his hand moving across the table as it gently encircled her hand. “If there’s anything you need. If you’re in pain…” He was about to continue his narrative, but the reaction that Buffy showed at that moment as her eyes quickly darted up to his, stopped his offer. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” She stumbled for her words as though she didn’t want to say what she was thinking. “It’s just, Spike already said this. Well, not about the coming back from hell part. Everything after that.”
Angel considered her words, wondering what Spike was up to now. Spike had always tried to kill Buffy, not to mention Angel when Buffy had sent the older vampire the Ring of Amara. So, what was with this sudden bout of conscience? Like he actually gave a damn? “Buffy, I know it might sound like Spike cares about your well-being, but he’s still a monster. He doesn’t have a soul.”
“I know. It’s impossible to be good without a soul. To love without one. I remember what you were like without one.” Angel just looked at her, realizing what she meant, reminding him of a time when they weren’t this friendly. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay. You’re right. Without this soul of mine, I’m a bastard. Jekyll and Hyde. That’s why you need to be careful around Spike. Especially with all that’s happened to you.”
“I get it, Angel. Flower pretty, Spike bad.” Angel gently chuckled at her comparison, a small smile playing on both their faces. Before he could move the conversation along, Buffy spoke once again. “Look. I should get going. Dawn needs me.”
“Oh.” Buffy slowly pulled away from Angel’s grasp, reaching into her pocketbook to pay for her portion of the meal. “That’s okay.” Before Buffy could object, Angel dropped a twenty onto the table before sliding out of the booth. Buffy sighed in frustration as she realized that she didn’t have enough to cover the bill anyway. Not if she planned to take the bus back to Sunnydale at any rate. With that, she followed Angel out of the diner and into the parking lot.
As Angel walked to his car, Buffy by his side, he spoke. “You know, I can drive you home if you want.”
“No. It’s okay. I like being alone. Gives me time to think.”
Angel wasn’t really sure what she meant, but he nodded agreement. “My offer still stands. You need anything…”
Buffy finished his thought. “…I’ll call. Promise.”
Angel solemnly smiled, the evident pain Buffy was going through tearing his heart to pieces. He gently leaned over, placing a small kiss on her forehead before pulling away. As he looked at her, he noted the same look of emptiness in her eyes, no hint of emotion apparent. “Bye.”
As Angel got into his car, Buffy just stood there, looking at him as though he was the most interesting thing in the world. A moment passed as Angel turned over the engine, Buffy spoke. “Bye, Angel.”
With that, she turned away from him, making her way to the bus stop. Angel watched her as she walked away, unsure of what he should feel at that moment.
“Angel. Angel!”
The vampire blinked his eyes, Buffy’s slightly annoyed voice tearing him away from his thoughts. “What?”
“What? Your mind kinda wandered there for a bit, didn’t it?”
Angel meekly grinned as he spoke. “I guess. So, where were we?”
“Well, I was on my way to see Spike and you were going home. Nice seeing you again. Really.” With that, she clapped him on the shoulder before walking past him. As Buffy began to make her way toward Spike’s apartment once again, realization finally hit Angel.
“Hey! Wait a minute.”
Buffy slowed her pace, knowing that Angel would most likely block her way again if she continued to ignore him. As the footfalls got closer, Buffy turned around. “What is it now?”
Angel sighed in frustration as he spoke; not understanding the mood Buffy was currently in. “Now? First you belt me outside your house. Then you literally tossed me against a wall. Now you’re acting like you want me dead. I think I deserve an explanation.”
Buffy nodded her head slightly, realizing that Angel was completely right. The only reason he was acting like this was because he didn’t know the whole story about Spike. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But there are things you don’t know about Spike. About what happened here.”
“You mean him stopping Willow?”
Okay. He did know everything. And he was still acting like a jerk. Buffy changed her mind upon hearing his query. She was right. “Among other things. Look, I don’t know how many times you prevented the world from utter annihilation.”
Angel answered immediately. “One if you count the Mayor. Two if you count the time you threw me through the hellgate Acathala created.”
Buffy stood there, anger beginning to build up inside her. “One. The Mayor was a chump compared to Glory. And two. You opened the gate. And you forced me to close it.”
She stood there, waiting for Angel to respond. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “I’m sorry, Buffy. But why in God’s name are you defending Spike?!?”
“Because someone should!” Angel was taken aback by her tone, surprise now evident on his face. “I know Spike’s done things in the past. Bad things. But he’s also done a lot of good. And, what? I’m supposed to ignore that just because he doesn’t have a soul?”
“Yes.”
Buffy’s brow furrowed at the thick headedness Angel was now displaying. “Just because you can’t play nice without a soul doesn’t mean everyone else can’t.”
Angel quickly responded, the tone in each other’s voice reaching a livid pitch. “I know Spike’s suddenly become the flavor of the month around here, but he’s still a monster when you get right down to it. Seems you’ve forgotten that.”
Buffy closed the distance between them, her finger poking into his chest. “Yeah? Well, how many monsters do you know that would keep a promise to take care of your sister after you died? Huh? What about looking after her when a hellgod was trying to cut her up just to bleed her dry? How many monsters would just sit there and listen to your problems after you got ripped out of heaven, wanting nothing in return? How many monsters, Angel? How…many…monsters?!?” The silence hovered in the air, neither sure of what to say. Instead, they just looked at each other, wondering how they had gotten to this point. “Look. Spike’s not the same person you remember. Well, he is. Point is, he’s my friend. And I stand by them, no matter what.”
Angel nodded, thinking better than to instigate another fight. He was here for a reason. To stop Spike from whatever it was he was going to do. But, with Buffy standing in the way, things just got a lot more complicated. What if she was right, though? Maybe Gunn and Fred got their facts mixed up. Unlikely as that sounded in his head, he decided to give Buffy the benefit of the doubt. “Okay. But I still have to talk to him.” Buffy looked at him as though her words had fallen on deaf ears, frustration enveloping her entire being. “Just to make sure. I’m not going to leave Sunnydale until I’m absolutely sure Spike’s not a threat.”
Buffy solemnly nodded, realizing the truth in Angel’s words. “Okay.”
“Okay. Come on. I’ll drive us there. My car’s just around the corner.”
Buffy walked with Angel, side by side, as she spoke. “Glad to see you weren’t stalking him.” Angel stopped walking as Buffy continued toward the car.
“I wasn’t stalking.” With a humbled sigh, he continued after Buffy as he spoke. “I was being stealthy.”
Spike pulled the bandage down about his hand, inspecting the wound the stake had caused. While most people would have gone to the hospital for such a traumatic wound, Spike didn’t. Mainly because the wound wasn’t that big anymore. In fact, the wound was now penny sized instead of stake sized.
The first time he noted this increased healing ability was when he was in England with Giles. When the Fakkir demon…
“Rachid.”
Spike remembered the demon’s name. And the pain Spike had apparently caused him when he was still with Drusilla. While he didn’t feel remorse for something done in his youth, he couldn’t forget the sound of the Fakkir’s voice as he accused Spike of ruining his life. And the sensation that Rachid’s mantis like claws invoked in Spike as they impaled his chest.
However, before Spike could even register the wounds, they had begun to close. And that was without the aid of blood and his previous vampire powers. So, the question that remained unanswered was how?
Sure, he still had his strength and speed, but vampires regenerated through the act of consuming blood. So, how was he able to regenerate new body tissue? And so damn quickly? While Angel’s wound hadn’t been as serious as those from Rachid, Spike couldn’t dismiss the fact that his wounded hand was healing faster than those inflicted by the Fakkir demon. And that bothered him to no end.
Because that meant he wasn’t human. So, what the hell was he? Spike frowned as the thought of siding with Doc crossed his mind. Sure, Doc would have told him everything he needed to know. But the price was too steep. What good was information if it meant killing Buffy? Before he could think of a response to his query, the knock at the front door got his attention.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Spike.”
Of course it was Buffy. Who else would it be? Not like anyone else knew where he lived, right? “Go away.”
The response came quickly, yet calmly. “No. Not until you open the door.”
“So, you’re saying if I open the door, you’ll leave? Then why’d you come here in the first place?” He could hear Buffy sigh on the other side of the door. Then silence. As Spike began to think that Buffy had listened to him and left, the sound of a key sliding into the lock got his attention. Spike pulled the bandage back over his wound, not wanting to field questions he didn’t have answers to. As he moved out of his room and into the living room, the front door swung open, Buffy walking into the apartment. “Not really fair, luv. I don’t have a key to your place.”
“Later. We need to talk.” She was all business as she closed the door behind her. That much was evident by her tone. “How’s your hand?” As she closed the distance between them, Spike began to move his hand behind his back, wanting to hide it from her. However, Buffy gently grabbed his arm before he had a chance to move. While he expected her to ask about what had happened in the front lawn, she surprised him by pulling his hand up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss across his knuckles. “Does it hurt?”
“Not so much.”
Buffy gently held Spike’s wounded hand in her own, her thumb softly caressing the inside of his palm as she spoke. “Angel needs to talk to you.”
“Is that right?” And there it was. She was here because of Angel. He was secondary. “Well, you can tell him he can shove it where the sun don’t shine. Better yet, where the sun does shine.”
“Spike…”
“No. I think I’ve got the right to be vexed here. Your boyfriend tried to kill me tonight!”
Buffy pulled his hand up to his chest, both their hands now resting there. “He’s not my boyfriend. You know that.”
“Yeah? Seems like ever since he’s gotten here, you’ve been taking his side.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
Spike pulled his hand away from Buffy as he walked toward the couch. Buffy just stood there as Spike sat down, his brow furrowed. “So, what? It’s okay for him to kill me then?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say that.”
Spike hung his head slightly, realizing that she was right. This was all Angel’s fault. Why the hell did he have to come back anyway? “What does he want with me?”
Buffy walked over to the couch, sitting next to Spike as she answered his question. “He thinks you’re going to be responsible for destroying the world.”
“Of course. Because what does one do after saving it?”
Buffy looked at him, a hint of amusement on her face. “Well, I didn’t say he made any sense.”
“But you still believe him. Innit right?”
She rested her head against his shoulder, the seriousness of the conversation beginning to wear her out. “If someone told you that I’d be responsible for obliterating the world, wouldn’t you err on the side of caution?”
His response startled her as he spoke. “Course not. I trust you with my life. And if you thought destroying this world was a good idea, I’d back you up.”
Buffy tilted her gaze toward him. “You’re not serious.”
“Damn right I am. Till the end of the world.”
Buffy sighed as her hand found its way about his, gently squeezing. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Well, I have a list if you’re interested.” Buffy gently laughed as she squeezed his hand.
“I’d like that. But we still have Angel to deal with.”
Spike spoke, his voice in a hushed whisper. “Do you really think I’d do something like that? And ruin any chance of this to work?”
She answered truthfully, her tone now matching his own. “You know I don’t.”
“But you’d feel better if you had proof to back up those words? Yeah?” Buffy nodded as she nestled herself into his side. “Alright, luv. What do you want to do?”
“Angel says there’s some guy in L.A. that points the finger to you. I say we go meet said person and clear up this whole mess.”
“Well, I still have time off from work. I guess Angel and I can sort things out with this person. That is, if Angel doesn’t try and kill me again.”
Buffy moved away from Spike, sitting up as she spoke. “I don’t think you have to worry about Angel. I told him that you mean a lot to me. So, unless he’s got a death wish…”
Spike interrupted Buffy, the shock still evident in his voice. “Wait? You told him about us?”
Buffy gently smiled as she answered his question. “To an extent.” She took a deep breath as she began to explain her statement. “When Angel found out Riley and I were…were…”
“Shacking up?”
“Nice.” Spike gently chuckled as Buffy continued. “Angel got so furious. And, now, if he were to find out that…”
Spike spoke, interrupting Buffy’s train of thought. “S’okay, luv. I get the point. Mums the word.”
“Okay. Well, we should get going.”
Spike looked at her, confusion now setting in. “We?”
“Yes. We. As in you and me. I still have time off from Xander and Anya’s wedding, so I’m going.”
“What about Dawn?”
“She’ll be okay. Tara and Willow are there to take care of her until I get back.” Buffy gently elbowed Spike in the side, playfully teasing him. “So, whaddya say?”
Spike ran his hand through his hair, realizing that things were bound to get interesting with Angel along for the ride. “What else can I say except, road trip.”