Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Fourteen: Confessions of a Soulful Mind

The front door slid open with barely a whisper across the bare wood floor. Sunlight streaked into the darkness, illuminating the front hall of the old farmhouse. Dawn edged inside the house and eased the door shut, wincing slightly at the audible click of the door lock. She leaned against the wall, attempting to calm her racing heart and slow her rapid breathing. Three hours of searching had passed before Dawn had discovered the farmhouse nestled between the cemetery and woods. She wondered if anyone noticed she was gone. Brushing a lock of light brown hair out of her eyes, she grabbed the stake from the waistband of her jeans, clutched the cross in her hand, and moved deeper within the house.

Dawn peeked into the room on her left. Two chairs surrounding a glass coffee table resided in front of a marble fireplace. A couple of books lay haphazardly on the table, next to a deck of playing cards; heavy oak bookshelves filled with musty volumes rested against two walls. Backing out of the room, Dawn crossed the hallway and walked into the dining room. An ornate cherry table consumed the majority of space and six plush chairs circled the oval table. A fine layer of dust and grime coated the table and chairs, smudging the window panes and dulling the elegant candelabra on the table. A glass cabinet filled with an odd assortment of dishes and china lay against the far wall, next to a set of swinging doors. Creeping across the vacant dining room, Dawn nudged the door open, revealing an empty, spotless kitchen.

Sighing, Dawn returned to the front hall and looked up the staircase to the second floor. Darkness covered the top of the stairs. Shifting the stake in her sweaty palm, she walked to the foot of the stairs and slowly ascended. Her wide blue eyes were trained on the blackness awaiting her; sweat dripped down her neck and trailed across her spine to pool in the small of her back. Dawn paused when she reached the second floor. All of the doors to the four rooms composing the floor were closed save the one at the end of the hall. She could hear muffled mumblings emanating from the room, echoing down the narrow hall, reverberating within her consciousness. Mouth set in a thin, hard line, Dawn moved down the hall to the open room.

Flattening against the wall, she peered into the room. A massive four poster bed covered in black cotton sheets sat in the center of the room. Heavy curtains covered the windows, completely obscuring the bright afternoon light. Dawn tensed as she heard a harsh groan from the bed. She leaned back on the wall and sucked in a deep breath, glancing between the stake in her hand and the dark bedroom. She squared her shoulders, stepped to the door, and slid into the bedroom, maneuvering around the edge of the room until the center of the bed came into view. Spike was asleep, twisting slightly underneath midnight sheets, face pinched in pain. He moaned again and gripped the sheets, knuckles whitening from the force of his exertion.

"No… no… 'm sorry… didn't… stop… god… so much, so much blood."

Dawn froze, her blue gaze riveted to the writhing figure on the bed before her. The wooden cross slid out of her hand and landed upon the carpeted floor, a hollow thud amid panicked cries.

"Stop… stop… no… nonoNoNO!" A jagged scream was torn from his throat as Spike slammed into a sitting position. His lower lip trembled, his eyes were squeezed shut. He drew in a ragged breath and rubbed a shaking hand across his face. His head snapped up as the stake fell from Dawn's hand, crashing against the floor and rolling next to the bed. His face was pale, lined in tracks of tears. "Bit…"

Dawn flinched and snatched her stake off the floor. She gritted her teeth and stared at Spike through a thin film of tears. "No. I talk. You listen. I-I have something I need to say. One, if you ever, ever, try to do what you did to my sister again I will kill you. I am being trained by the best, so believe me when I say I can." She lifted the quivering hand clasping the stake as glistening drops of tears fell from her eyes. "Two, if you ever leave town again without saying goodbye I will kill you." Dawn trembled, her body barely containing the conflicting passions welling within her. "Three, if you ever come back to Sunnydale without letting me know you're back I… I will…" Soft cries escaped her clenched jaw. The stake dropped from her hand once more.

"Dawn…" Legs buckling underneath her, Dawn collapsed onto the floor, soul tearing sobs ripped from her raw throat obliterating the hold she had placed over her emotions. Spike stood, black sheet slipping onto the floor, and moved towards Dawn. He kneeled before her, and he raised one hand, softly caressing the top of her head. "I-"

"No!" Dawn knocked his hand away from her. She punched him on the chest, then again, her short nails digging into his pale chest. "You said you wouldn't leave me! That you would always be here! That you would always protect me! But you left! And I needed you! Buffy needed you! Tara died and Willow went psycho and Buffy had to fight Willow and I was all alone and I needed you…but you left…" She threw her arms around his neck and crumpled against his chest, coating his cool skin with scalding tears.

Quiet cries and icy tears merged with her harsh sobs. Spike drew his arms around Dawn as he whispered, "I'm sorry. Niblet, I'm sorry. I had to go. I couldn't stay."

Dawn leaned back in his arms; her eyes were red and puffy. She sought his steel blue gaze. Her voice cracked as she said, "Why? What was so important?"

His thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping her tears then brushing a strand of silky hair behind her ear. He stared at her for a moment, bowed with the weight of his failure to protect her, of his failure to protect everyone from the world, from the demons, and from himself. His voice was low as he murmured, "My soul."

"Your what?"

"I left Sunnydale to get my soul back. My human soul."

She closed her eyes, willing the revelation to make sense in her chaotic mind. Spike with a soul… Spike wanting a soul… Chipped, cocky, snarky Spike possessing a soul… She opened her eyes and looked. Looked at the man kneeling before her, shoulders hunched, eyes rimmed with the heavy circles of exhaustion, face coated with tears. Her friend and protector; the vampire who loved her sister and respected her mother, who killed two Slayers and thousands of people, who endured torture for her, who hurt her sister and left them both. She looked and whispered, "How?"

Spike told her everything. Why he had left town, meeting Whistler, the cave in Africa, the fight for his soul. He explained his search for Angel, his stay at the Hyperion, fighting with Faith, and his return to the Hellmouth. He talked about his discussion with Buffy, watching her with Tyler, and his encounter with Emilia. He spoke about the feeling of the soul burning into him while he lay on the cold cave floor; the shock flooding his system at seeing Buffy again, left breathless by her beauty shining beneath the moonlight; the nightmares assaulting him as soon as he closed his eyes.

He told her everything, and she listened.

* * *

She stalked through the cemetery. Her body was tight with anger, frustration, and betrayal. She clenched her fists; her nails cut into the palms of her hand. She roughly wiped the blood off on her jeans as she let out a muffled scream of rage, foot crashing against the granite tombstone, the echo of impact reverberating through the night covered graveyard.

"Uh… B?"

"What?!"

Faith stepped over the cracked and crumbled tombstone. She edged in front of Buffy, one eyebrow raised. "Um… usually I'd be all for mindless rage and destruction, but it just doesn't suit you. It's a little scary, and that's saying a lot coming from me. You want to, uh, talk or something?"

Buffy sighed and drug her hands through her golden blonde hair. She rolled her shoulders, stretching the iron muscles in her neck and back. Shaking her head, she said, "No. No, that's Ok. I- I just had a fight with Giles. You wouldn't understand. He-"

Faith snorted as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Whatever, B. Sorry I didn't have the magical Watcher-Slayer bond that you and Tweed did." She spun on her heel and took off across the silent cemetery.

"Faith! Wait!" Buffy ran after the brunette Slayer, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. Faith jerked out of Buffy's grasp as the blonde said, "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you would have no clue as to who we argued about. You don't know him."

A smirk twisted Faith's ruby red lips. "Right." She turned and walked away from Buffy again.

Anger began to course through the tiny blonde. She sprinted after Faith, cutting her off before she could pass through the iron gates and exit the graveyard. "What was that supposed to mean?"

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "It means nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"Oh, so now you're telling me what I mean to say in addition to telling me what I know and don't know?"

"What? I'm not telling anything."

"My point exactly."

Buffy rolled her eyes and placed her hands upon her hips. Her hazel eyes shone with irritation. "What did you expect? Did you expect me to just pour my deepest, darkest secrets out to you? The girl who tried to kill me and take over my life?"

Faith laughed, a rueful, pain filled burst of scorn. "That's all I'm ever going to be to you, isn't it? The evil Slayer who tried to kill you?" She grasped the hem of her navy tank and yanked the shirt up, revealing a thin white scar across her stomach. "Remember this? Remember when you tried to kill me? You slid my knife into my gut and I ended up in a coma for a year."

"I wouldn't have had to go after you if you hadn't poisoned Angel."

Another cruel laugh escaped Faith. Her dark eyes glittered with venom, masking the hurt of having another sin thrown back in her face. "Yeah, you did all that hard work to save him and he still left you anyway."

"Shut up. You know nothing about me and Angel." Buffy glared at Faith as she backed away from the brunette, out of the cemetery and onto the open road.

"You're right. I don't know shit about that. But I know a whole lot about Angel."

Buffy stopped.

Faith sauntered over to Buffy, a wicked grin appearing on her face as she circled the blonde. "You thought he was your soul mate. Your one true love. Your knight in shining armor. Bet you dreamed about the day he would swoop back into your life and sweep you off your feet." Faith paused before Buffy and leaned into her, their faces inches away from each other. "You think he was thinking of you when he was banging Darla? Oh… you didn't know. Chick was brought back from the dead. Guess you're not as special as you thought. Just a poor substitute for Darla-"

Buffy's fist crashed into her face, cutting off Faith's scathing soliloquy, knocking the brunette onto the ground. Faith pushed herself into a sitting position and drew her thumb across the corner of her mouth. It came away stained with blood. She stood and faced Buffy. Her voice was rough and hollow as she said, "Give us a kiss, B."

The two Slayers launched themselves at each other. The empty street was filled with primal growls and pain filled howls. Fists slammed into chests, feet smashed into faces. Nails clawed across flesh, drawing lines of blood amid sweat slicked skin. Buffy flew at Faith, crashing into her midsection, sending both to the ground. They rolled end over end, each trying to gain the advantage, to capitalize on the other's moment of weakness. The two women slammed against the brick wall enclosing the graveyard. Faith straddled Buffy. Her hand clutched Buffy's throat just as the blonde's hand closed around Faith's.

"So, B, how's-"

Faith's fingers were torn from Buffy's throat as she was wrenched off the blonde and thrown across the vacant road. She landed on the concrete, breathless as the air rushed out of her. Gasping, she struggled to stand. Faith turned toward Buffy again and came face to face with twin pools of furious blue.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Faith scowled at Spike. She rubbed a hand across the clawed gouges on her throat and pointed at Buffy. "She started it, Blondie. She's nuts-"

Buffy snarled and jumped at Faith again. Spike's arm shot out and grabbed the blonde Slayer in midair. He held onto her arm as he moved between the two women. "Buffy. Buffy!" She jerked her gaze away from Faith and locked eyes with Spike. Her hazel eyes were sparkling with hatred. He brushed her honey hair away from her face, his cool fingers lightly caressing the scratches across her throat. "What happened?"

Buffy sighed and closed her eyes. She leaned against his hand; her body trembled, overwhelmed by the emotions broiling underneath her skin. She sighed again, forcing her muscles to relax, and opened her eyes. "Nothing. I'm just stressed and Little Miss Friendly got pissed because I wouldn't have a heart to heart with her."

"Whatever, B."

Spike turned his head and scowled at the brunette. "Zip it, Faith."

"What?! You're just going to take her side and not even listen to me."

"No, I'm trying to understand what the bloody hell happened. If you want to tell me, then-"

"You know her."

Spike and Faith looked at Buffy. Her mouth was open in shock, brows knitted together in confusion. She glanced from one to the other and said, "You two know each other. How…You two never fought…" An image from her Slayer dream popped into her consciousness: Faith tackling Spike, straddling him, holding a stake above his chest. Buffy running towards them to push the brunette off Spike. "But you did. You two fought… but not in Sunnydale… where?" Another memory flashed into her mind's eye of Anya and Faith in front of the Magic Shop, explaining how they met: We crossed paths in L.A. …At Angel's.

Her eyes snapped to Spike's face. He stepped towards her. "Buffy-"

"You went to Angel's after you left town?"

"I stayed there for a while, but-"

"No. You were at Angel's with Faith. And with Anya. And you didn't tell me."

"I know, but-"

She spun on her heels and sprinted down the street. Tears flooded her eyes, threatening to spill across her flushed cheeks.

Spike raced after her. "Buffy! Stop!"

"No! I don't want to talk to you right now."

Sighing, he said softly, "Buffy, please-"

She turned and slammed her fist into his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps. She shook with anger, with hurt, with shock. "Why don't you go talk with Faith? Take her back to Anya's. You three can call up Angel and have a wonderful bonding time together. Talk about how much of a bitch Buffy is. How she's emotionally fucked and-and uptight and elitist. Have a grand old time." She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Her gaze traveled from Spike to Faith before she spun and ran down the street.

Spike lowered his head and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Fuck…"

"Told you she's lost it."

"Faith, would you-"

A sharp cry pierced the night air. Spike's head snapped up. His eyes went wide at the sight of Buffy down on the ground surrounded by two massive demons. "Shit." He ran towards her, crashing into something large, brown, and covered with thorns as it jumped in front of him. It was another demon, exactly like the two attacking Buffy. He felt Faith move behind him until the two were back to back.

"Shit, Spike. Here comes another one."

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Spike watched the demon before him. The thorns covering its mud brown chest dripped with clear fluid. "Don't touch the thorns! They're poisonous!"

Faith darted to the side as the second demon swung at her. "Then how the fuck are we supposed to kill them?"

Spike ducked as the first demon punched; its thick brown fist sailed over Spike's head. Rolling out of striking distance, Spike said, "Not sure."

"Great." The second demon kicked at Faith. She staggered backwards towards the cemetery wall, pressing flush against the rough stones. The demon paused in its advances before charging Faith. She jumped aside as the demon closed in on her, causing it to crash head first against the wall. The demon swayed and crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Faith stepped on it, one foot on its head, the other on its neck, and shifted, breaking its neck beneath her boots. The demon convulsed, knocking Faith off balance, then vanished, leaving only a small patch of clear slime coating the grass.

"Neck breaking works."

"Usually does." Spike dodged another blow from the demon and glanced at Buffy. She darted between the two surrounding her and rolled to a standing position, her back to Spike. The demon kicked again and connected with Spike's gut. Doubling over, the blonde glared at the demon as it moved towards him. He kicked at it, crushing its knee and sending it to the ground. Spike aimed another kick at the demon's head before he reached down, grasped both sides of its head, and roughly twisted its neck. The dead demon shuddered for a few seconds then disappeared.

Buffy stood in front of the two demons. He hands were upon her hips and a scowl covered her face. "I'm really not in the mood for this."

The demons stopped and glanced at each other, before fanning out to surround the Slayer again.

"And that obviously means nothing to you." She walked backwards, Spike's warning about the thorns echoing in her mind. One of the demons ran towards her and slammed against the iron gates of the cemetery as Buffy moved out of the way. Its head was stuck between the thick bars. The second demon punched the blonde Slayer. She fell, scrambling backwards as the demon stepped over her, fist cocked back. Its head twisted violently, and it collapsed against the concrete and vanished.

Breathing hard, Buffy looked up and saw Spike standing above her. In the distance, she watched Faith walk away from the graveyard gate and from the dead demon captured between its bars. Buffy stood, brushing off her dirt covered jeans, her eyes locked on Spike. They stared at each other, a minute creeping by, before Buffy mumbled, "Thanks." She stepped around him and headed in the opposite direction of the brunette Slayer, leaving Spike alone in the graveyard.

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