Avocation

Author: enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play. Really.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask.

Summary: The gypsies curse the wrong vampire, and by the time they rectify their mistake, Spike has been fundamentally altered. Nearly a century later, the Slayer needs help, and there's only one person qualified for the job. Of course, he's not real interested in taking it.

A/N: I have a secret (or not-so-secret) weakness for early canon Spuffy fics. The only problem is that Spike is evil. No, really, he is. Which means that actually writing Spuffy pre-chip requires more suspension of disbelief than I can manage. Reading it is a different matter altogether. So, this is how I write early canon Spuffy. By altering events entirely. By the way, the title comes from a Robert Frost poem, "Two Tramps in Mud Time." Pay special attention to the last stanza.
 

 

Chapter 39

 

"My love, if I die and you don't—,/My love, if you die and I don't—,/let's not give grief an even greater field. No expanse is greater than where we live./Dust in the wheat, and in the deserts,/time, wandering water, the vague wind/swept us on like sailing seeds./We might not have found one another in time./This meadow where we find ourselves,/O little infinity! we give it back./But Love, this love has not ended:/just as it never had a birth, it has/no death: it is like a long river,/only changing lands, and changing lips." ~Pablo Neruda, "Sonnet XCII"

 

By the time Willow and Oz arrived at the high school, they had already moved Spike back to his place, leaving Wesley to deliver the message and the broken arrow. "I would like to be of assistance, but Buffy asked me to call the Council," he said apologetically.

Willow smiled at him. "It's okay. I've got Oz and Xander."

"What are we going to do?" Xander asked, rising from the table.

"Find out what poisoned Spike, and maybe come up with an antidote," Willow suggested tentatively. "I'm going to try anyway, but I've never done that before."

"You can," Oz said confidently. "If anyone can."

Their eyes met, and even Xander could tell that something had changed. He was fairly sure he didn't know what it was—nor did he want to know. "Willow's the one to do it," he agreed.

Xander felt like a third wheel as he watched Willow and Oz work in tandem to set up their impromptu science experiment. Willow scribbled a list down on a piece of paper. "The magic shop should have all of this. I want to see if it's a mystical poison."

Xander looked apologetic. "I'm a little short of cash right now."

"Just tell them it's for me," she replied.

He left the chem lab, immediately running into Anya. "I thought you were leaving town."

"I am," she replied. "The car's all packed and waiting."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you still doing here?"

"I came back for you!" Anya replied, sounding angry and impatient, although Xander wondered whether she was angrier with herself. "We can leave tonight."

"You want me to go with you?" Xander asked, no little disbelief in his tone. He'd thought prom an unmitigated disaster, and now Anya wanted him to leave town with her?

She glared at him. "If you stay, you'll die, and I don't want that. Whenever I think of you being dead it makes me want to vomit."

There was a piece of him that was rather touched by that, but it was a very small piece. "So I give you barfy feelings? That makes me want to go with you."

"Come with me," Anya insisted.

Xander shook his head. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I've got friends on the line." He held up Willow's shopping list. "They're counting on me."

"You're just going to get in the way!" Anya accused. "They'd probably be better off without you here anyway."

"Way to touch a guy's heart," Xander said, brushing past her and heading down the hall.

Anya stared after him, furious at the both of them. At herself for feeling the way she did and at Xander for being so stupidly noble. "Fine! I hope you die!"

Xander just waved a hand, not even looking behind him. He knew without being told that every second counted. And no matter what Anya might think, he was integral.

He was certain of it.

~~~~~

Spike's eyes fluttered open as Buffy applied the damp cloth to his forehead. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied, giving him a watery smile. "How are you doing?"

"Apparently hanging in there." He shut his eyes tightly as another wave of pain crashed over him. "Any news yet?"

Buffy tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "No, but Willow's working on doing some trace-thingy, and Wesley's calling the Council. We should have you back on your feet in no time."

Spike hissed and then shook his head. "Hope so. I'm still supposed to make sure you stop that apocalypse."

"You're going to be fine," she insisted, brushing back his sweat-soaked hair.

"Buffy?"

She turned to see Wesley standing in the doorway, looking unhappy. "What is it, Wes?"

"I think we need to talk."

The Slayer squeezed Spike's hand. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Be fine," he managed. "Go."

She followed Wesley out to the living room where Giles was sitting on the couch. "Okay, what's going on?"

Wesley swallowed, unwilling to meet her eyes. "The Council won't help."

"What?" Buffy asked. "Did you explain what was going on? That we need Spike?"

"I explained, but—they said he's a vampire, and it's not the Council's policy to save vampires." Wesley winced. "I'm very sorry, Buffy. I tried to tell them..."

Buffy believed him. Wesley didn't appear to be any happier with the situation than she was. "What did they say?"

He cleared his throat. "They said you should concentrate on the Mayor's Ascension and forget about Spike. I—I told them that you wouldn't, and—" Wesley paused. "They didn't take that very well."

"So they won't help us?"

"No, but I am at your disposal." Wesley gave a bitter little chuckle that Buffy didn't quite understand. "I could tell you what their orders were, but I didn't think you'd listen to them anyway."

"You're learning," Buffy said dryly. "Damn them!" she burst out. "How dare they when they know what kind of help Spike is to us?"

"There are rules," Wesley tried to explain. "They've been around for longer than—"

"I don't care if they've been around for longer than dirt," Buffy spat. "Fine. You know what? I don't need their rules. If you're not with me, you're against me, and they've picked their side. I'm done with the Council." She gave Wesley a hard look. "I hope you don't plan on standing in my way."

Wesley shook his head. "I meant what I said, Buffy."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Then call the Council and tell them where they can shove their orders. I will save Spike, and I will stop the Ascension, and I will do it without their help." She turned to Giles. "I can't stay here. Will you look after him?"

"I'll call you if there's any change," Giles replied. When Buffy had left, he turned to the younger Watcher. "What exactly happened?"

Wesley sighed. "Mr. Travers took exception to my argument in favor of helping Spike. When I told him that Buffy wouldn't follow the Council's orders, and expressed my reservations about attempting to force her to..."

"They fired you?" Giles guessed.

"Something like that." Wesley gave him a tight smile. "I've been relieved of my duties pending an investigation."

"Why?" Giles asked bluntly.

Wesley shrugged, knowing what Giles meant without asking. "I told you I'd been doing some reading on Spike, and I've watched him here. To simply let him die would be as great a crime as allowing a human to die." Wesley shook his head. "Besides, I was well aware that she wasn't going to listen to me. It's not like she ever has in the past."

Giles raised an eyebrow. "It seems you're learning."

The younger Watcher sat down on the couch. "Let's just hope that we all have time to put that to good use."

"Don't get too comfortable," Giles warned him. "I need you to go back to the library and look over the information from Professor Wirth's files again. Cross reference it with known demons and then see if you can identify what type of demon the Mayor is most likely to become. Once we know that—"

"We'll know how to kill him," Wesley said, sighing as he stood. It was probably better not to remain seated on Spike's rather comfortable couch. There was no way he'd manage to stay awake if he did.

"Wesley," Giles called after him as he went to the front door. "If it helps, I believe you made the right choice."

Wesley looked down at the tops of his shoes for a moment then back up at Giles. "Thank you. I believe that it does."

~~~~~

They had all been surprised by her decision. Buffy was the Slayer. She was supposed to be the good guy, and she was talking about killing a human being. In fact, once Willow told her that only Slayer's blood would save Spike, Buffy hadn't even hesitated.

Faith had killed at least two people, had shot down Spike, and there was no way the cops were going to be able to handle her even if they ever managed to catch her. She was Buffy's responsibility, and Buffy was going to end it. Tonight. She would drop Faith's dead body into Spike's lap.

Buffy would just have to deal with the nightmares later.

The gang had done their jobs. The address was the right one. "Thought I'd drop by," Buffy said when Faith answered the door.

"How's your boy?" Faith asked with a smile, backing away into the middle of the room.

Buffy shrugged, as though the very idea of Spike not being around anymore wasn't terrifying. "He'll be just fine once I deliver the cure."

Faith tilted her head. "Cure, huh? The Mayor said there wasn't one. So what is it?"

"Interestingly enough, it's your blood," Buffy responded.

Faith laughed. "You're not getting that."

Buffy didn't bother with a warning. The right hook connected solidly with Faith's jaw. "Oh, I think I will."

The dark Slayer's eyes glittered. "Welcome to the dark side, sister." Faith met Buffy's attack with relish.

They battled furiously. It wasn't often that Buffy faced someone who was just as quick, just as skilled, and who loved the fight as much as she did.

Well, not unless you counted her boyfriend.

Although they had both had the benefit of training with Spike, Buffy's sessions had been a little more regular, and over a longer period of time. For every blow Faith managed to get through her defenses, Buffy managed two. They danced around the room, exchanging punches and kicks in rapid succession.

Faith managed to knee Buffy in the side, catching her off guard, finishing it up with a backhanded punch to her head that sent Buffy flying through the large window. Buffy recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Faith seized her advantage and started coming at Buffy with a dizzying attack that allowed Buffy no time to catch her bearings.

Buffy managed to get a breather by head-butting Faith in the face, causing the other girl to stumble back, and she pulled the dagger she'd grabbed from the book cage. Faith gave her a feral grin when she saw the weapon, pulling her own knife from the sheath strapped to her back. "Looks like you're not the only one packing tonight, B," Faith said. "I thought I might be seeing you."

Buffy didn't waste words. She launched herself at the other girl, both blades flashing silver in the moonlight. With a clever twist of the knife, Faith managed to disarm Buffy and pin her against the rail guard around the roof. "Been fun, B," Faith said. "Looks like you'll be joining your boyfriend tonight after all."

Spike had taught Buffy a move she didn't think Faith knew about. He'd told her the name of it, as well as the particular branch of martial arts it came from. She couldn't pronounce it if her life depended on it—but it didn't.

All Buffy had to do was to reproduce it.

"Guess again," she gasped, twisting her body, taking Faith's knife-hand with her, and burying the knife hilt-deep into the other girl's abdomen.

Buffy stepped back, standing with the knife in her hand, stunned, unable to believe what she had just done. There was blood on her hands now, too. "You did it," Faith said, then she pushed Buffy away from her, hard enough to send her back several feet. "You killed me. But it's not going to do you a hell of a lot of good."

Buffy could do nothing except to watch helplessly as Faith plunged off the roof onto the bed of a truck.

Spike's last chance was gone.

~~~~~

Willow wiped Spike's damp forehead with a cool cloth. They had called Giles to let him know what Buffy was planning, and he had asked them to relieve him at Spike's bedside. Willow had gotten the feeling that Giles wasn't terribly happy about Buffy going after Faith, but he also wasn't going to try to stand in her way.

She just couldn't believe that Wesley had stood up to the Council for Spike. It looked like he wasn't quite as much of a dork as they'd thought.

Not that he wasn't still a dork, of course.

"Red?" Spike was squinting at her as though he couldn't make her out very clearly.

She smiled at him. "That's me. Hanging in there?"

"Where—where's Buffy?"

"Oh, you know Buffy. She can't sit still. She went to get your cure," Willow said brightly. She sucked at lying, but she was hoping that Spike's weakened condition would mask her over-bright voice.

He hissed in pain, arching off the bed. "You'll—you'll tell her something for me?"

"I'm not telling her anything!" Willow said. "You're going to tell her yourself because you're going to be fine." She pointed to her face. "You see my resolve face, mister? No one can resist the resolve face."

Spike chucked weakly. "Gonna miss you, Red," he mumbled. "You and your boy. Good people. Look after Buffy for me, will you?"

"Now that's just crazy talk," Buffy said from the doorway. "You're going to take care of me. You promised, remember?"

Willow turned in her chair, and her face fell when she saw Buffy give a quick shake of her head. "Hey, Buffy. How's it going?"

"You're hurt," Spike said. "I can smell the blood."

"It's not mine," she replied. "I'm fine, Spike. Willow? I think I can take it from here. Could you tell Giles that if he needs me I'll be here?"

"Sure thing, Buffy," Willow replied, giving Buffy's shoulder a squeeze on her way out the door. She wanted to ask what happened with Faith, but now wasn't the time. Not with Spike dying right before their eyes. Instead, she grabbed her boyfriend and left, feeling horribly guilty for the relief she felt that it wasn't Oz in that bed.

Buffy sat down on the edge of Spike's bed and stroked his face. "Hey there."

"Hey." Spike's voice hitched in pain. "Sorry, luv. Never meant for it to end like this."

"Willow and Oz found a cure, Spike," Buffy said. "You're going to be fine."

Spike frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Slayer's blood. It's good for what ails you."

Spike shook his head. "Buffy, no."

"It was supposed to be Faith, but I couldn't—I didn't manage to bring her back." She smiled at him. "So it's got to be me."

"Won't hurt you," Spike whispered hoarsely. "You don't know what you're asking, pet. I can't—not to save my own sorry hide."

"There's nothing sorry about your hide," Buffy replied, a lump in her throat. "Do you know what it would do to me to lose you? I can't, not like this. Not when I could prevent it. All you have to do is drink. You'll know when to stop."

Spike shook his head, his fevered mind playing through what would happen if he let Buffy have her way. He'd been here before; he had done this before. Angelus had offered him the option—to save his own life or to kill someone else, and he'd chosen selfishly every single time.

Not that there had been much of a choice. Every bleeding boy or girl would have ended up dead, and at least they'd gone quickly by his hand. Angelus always had liked playing with his food.

But if Spike took Buffy's offer he would—

"You won't," Buffy said. "You won't, Spike. I trust you to stop."

Spike shook his head again, but his resistance was fading. He didn't want to leave his girl. Not now, not as they were just beginning.

"Please," she whispered. "Spike, please. You can't leave me. If I can save you—I have to do it. Please, you have to let me."

When had he ever been able to say no to his girl?

Buffy saw the resignation in his eyes before he gave verbal assent, and she helped him to sit, cradling his limp form and holding his head to her neck. "Don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she promised. "It's okay, sweetie. I want this."

Buffy could feel his lips against her neck, kissing her gently. She tilted her head to make sure Spike had clear access, and she could feel the bones in his face shift against her skin and the sharp prick of his teeth.

When he bit down, it was a rush. The endorphins hit her system, making her feel weak and invincible all at the same time. At the same time, a bolt of heat went right to her core. She never wanted it to end, and Buffy suddenly understood why most victims of vampire attacks didn't struggle.

Why would she want to end this?

Spike had never really stopped feeding from humans completely. Not only had he been known to catch a bite while he was on the job, but he had regularly supplemented his diet with just-expired blood from the hospital. Still, Slayer's blood was a rush to his weakened system that threatened to go straight to his head.

The last few hours had been one wave of pain and weakness after another, each one leaving him panting, wondering when it was going to end. The influx of Buffy's blood was a high that made it almost impossible for him to stop when he reached the point he knew he should.

There was a part of him that wanted to keep drinking, that wanted to suck the life right out of her.

It was that desire that gave him the strength to stop when he felt her start to struggle just a bit. Spike withdrew as gently as he could, trying not to do any more damage than he had already. He kissed her wounds, waiting until they had stopped bleeding before he laid her back on the bed.

"Did you get enough?" Buffy asked.

Spike nodded. "Think so. Gotta find something to cover that up, luv." He levered himself out of the bed, dismayed at how weak he still felt. His limbs were trembling, and Spike wondered how long it was going to take the poison to work out of his system. There hadn't been a choice, however. Had he taken more blood, Buffy would have needed a trip to the hospital for a transfusion. This way, they both had at least a chance of being at full strength tomorrow.

He found the medical supplies he'd stocked up on when he realized that even a vampire might need patching up in Sunnydale. That, and he was anticipating a night when Buffy might have to come back to his place for assistance.

Spike came back, sitting down on the edge of the bed to clean the bite and tape a gauze pad over the top of it. His hands were still shaking, partly because of the poison, but also because Spike had never wanted this.

Well, perhaps he'd had a few dreams, but he had never wanted to see Buffy in his bed, looking so pale. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she replied. "But not that bad. I've definitely been worse." Buffy saw his trembling and grabbed his wrist. "You didn't take enough."

 

"Yeah, I did," he retorted. "The pain is gone. If I'd taken more, you'd be in the hospital."

Buffy glared at him. "You're still shaky."

"More out of the thought of losing you than anything else," Spike assured her, dropping the rest of the first aid supplies on the floor and crawling into the bed next to her.

Buffy grabbed one of his hands and draped his arm across her middle. "You're not going to lose me. You stopped."

"Might not have."

"You did. I wasn't going to lose you."

"So you said."

Buffy scooted back to get as close to him as possible. "We're going to be okay."

"Sure we are," he responded, although he wasn't terribly sure of that. "Anybody going to be looking for you?"

"No," Buffy said, sighing as she shifted a little to get comfortable. With Spike's arm a comforting weight over her, and his back a solid presence behind her, she felt sleep descend. "Don't go anywhere."

"Right here, luv," Spike murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. He didn't last much longer, the events of the day pulling him down as well. "Not going anywhere."

 

Avocation

Author: enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play. Really.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask.

Summary: The gypsies curse the wrong vampire, and by the time they rectify their mistake, Spike has been fundamentally altered. Nearly a century later, the Slayer needs help, and there's only one person qualified for the job. Of course, he's not real interested in taking it.

A/N: I have a secret (or not-so-secret) weakness for early canon Spuffy fics. The only problem is that Spike is evil. No, really, he is. Which means that actually writing Spuffy pre-chip requires more suspension of disbelief than I can manage. Reading it is a different matter altogether. So, this is how I write early canon Spuffy. By altering events entirely. By the way, the title comes from a Robert Frost poem, "Two Tramps in Mud Time." Pay special attention to the last stanza.
 

 

Chapter 40

 

"...Happiness to me is wine,/Effervescent, superfine./Full of tang and fiery pleasure,/Far too hot to leave me leisure/For a single thought beyond it./Drunk! Forgetful! This the bond: it/Means to give one's soul to gain/Life's quintessence. Even pain/Pricks to the livelier living, then/Wakes the nerves to laugh again,/Rapture's self is three parts sorrow./Although we must die to-morrow,/Losing every thought but this;/Torn, triumphant, drowned in bliss./Happiness: We rarely feel it./I would buy it, beg it, steal it,/Pay in coins of dripping blood/For this one transcendent good." ~Amy Lowell, "Happiness"

 

Spike was awake a couple of hours later, slipping out of bed as quietly as possible to avoid waking Buffy. He needed more blood of the human variety in order to be in any condition to fight, and the Slayer was going to need something to eat when she woke up. Even though Spike was a little fuzzy on the details, he knew that much.

This wasn't the first time he'd had to administer first aid to a bite victim.

He was certainly feeling better, though. The pain was gone, as well as most of the trembling. It would be a few days before he was completely recovered, but he'd be capable of holding his own when they faced down the Mayor.

The first stop was the hospital to nick some blood. It wasn't the first time Spike had stolen fresh blood rather than finding someone who would set aside the older stuff for him. He moved quickly and quietly, careful to be sure that he didn't stay in one place for too long. The advantage of going at this time of the morning was that the night shift was starting to leave and the day shift was just coming on.

Spike waited until the nurse's attention was on the novel she was reading before he slipped into the fridge where they kept the blood. He pocketed three bags and slipped out again, just as noiselessly, walking briskly towards the front door.

"You!"

The vampire kept walking, thinking that perhaps someone had seen him taking the blood. If he could make it to his car, he could make a quick getaway.

"Stop!"

Spike risked a look over his shoulder to see the Mayor, who looked absolutely livid. He kept walking, not wanting to risk a confrontation. As he reached the exit, the Mayor shouted after him. "She'll pay for this! She is going to die a slow death, and I'm going to make sure you're there to see it! You will suffer!"

Spike believed that he meant it.

~~~~~

Buffy heard Spike's voice above her head somewhere, sounding vaguely annoyed. "Look, we'll be there soon as we can...I know. Of course I know...Told you she'll be fine." He was quiet then, and Buffy opened her eyes slowly.

Spike stood by his window, facing the drawn curtains, his head down and shoulders hunched. She put a hand up to touch the bandage on her neck, realizing that while the wound stung slightly it didn't hurt much. Buffy knew that he'd been as careful as he could be under the circumstances.

She must have made enough noise for Spike to catch it with his sharp hearing. He turned to look at her. "Morning, luv."

"Good morning." Buffy glanced around. "What time is it?"

"Just past six," Spike replied. "It's early yet."

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Rupert." Spike wouldn't meet her eyes. "I had to tell him what happened."

"I wanted this, Spike," Buffy reiterated. "I haven't changed my mind."

Spike sighed. "I never wanted to hurt you, Buffy."

She sat up slowly. "Are you—is it going to cause a problem?"

"No. I haven't—it's not like I haven't had human blood recently," Spike replied. "I've got more control than most would have."

"I know you do."

"How are you?"

"I feel like I could sleep for a week," she admitted. "You?"

"The same." Spike gave her a rueful smile. "Probably be a few days before I'm in tip-top shape again."

Buffy stood, testing out her legs. They were steady enough. "Well, I'll be fine just as soon as I get some juice and cookies." At Spike's inquisitive look, she explained. "That's what they always give you after you donate blood."

"Don't have cookies, but I've got juice," Spike admitted. "Got some other stuff too. I'll make you a decent breakfast, and then we're supposed to meet the Watcher at the school."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "You got food? When did you do that?"

"Before the sun came up, while you were still sleeping," Spike replied. "Knew I'd have to fill you up with something before we faced the Mayor later on." He didn't tell her about going to the hospital, not wanting to explain why he was there. Maybe he would tell her later if it seemed important.

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation for his half-hearted innuendo. "You're a pig, Spike."

He smiled, knowing that if Buffy was joking with him she was going to be okay. "Let's get you fed, then."

Buffy followed him out to the kitchen, noting that he still seemed a little shaky. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Spike shook his head. "Honestly? It's been a century since I've felt that helpless, and I didn't like it." His eyes flashed blue fire. "I never want to be in a position where I have to make a choice between your life and mine."

"That wasn't your choice," Buffy replied. "I didn't have to die, and neither did you. See? Everybody wins."

"Until Rupert stakes me," Spike mumbled.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Giles will not stake you, not when he sees that I'm fine. Everyone agreed that we needed you still, even Wesley."

"I don't want to do that again, Buffy," Spike said quietly. "I don't want—"

There was something in his tone that clued Buffy in to the fact that this wasn't just about last night. This was also about Spike's past rearing its ugly head again. "Faith won't be shooting any more poisoned arrows," she said. "So I don't think we have to worry about it."

Buffy frowned, remembering snippets of her dream. Faith had been there, but she couldn't remember much more than that.

Well, she remembered how they might be able to stop the Mayor.

"What happened between you two?"

Buffy described their fight in as few words as possible. As far as she knew, Faith was dead or dying. She was certainly out of commission for the Ascension. Spike seemed to feel the same way. "You'd have had to deal with her one way or another," he said philosophically. "Might as have been last night as today. We got a plan for the battle?"

Buffy nodded slowly. "I think so. I want to wait until everyone is together, though." She started scarfing her breakfast. "I don't think we have time for me to explain what I want to do twice."

~~~~~

When Giles saw the pair walk into the library, he was slightly mollified by Buffy's apparent good health and the deep circles under Spike's eyes. Perhaps the vampire had taken enough to survive, but no more than that. He did notice that Spike wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Where are the others, Giles?" Buffy asked.

"I called them," he replied. "They should be on their way shortly. I sent Xander and Wesley home to get some rest."

Buffy nodded. "Good. That's good."

"Can I talk to you, Spike?"

The Slayer sensed danger. "Giles, I don't—"

"It's okay, pet," Spike said softly. "He's got the right." He followed the Watcher back to his office, not taking a seat until Giles offered it to him.

Giles regarded him steadily, finally asking, "Will you be alright?"

"I've fought under worse conditions," Spike replied. "I'll be fine. I'm not the important one."

"Buffy would probably disagree with you," Giles admitted. He wanted to be furious, but he couldn't, not when Spike looked so unhappy with the situation. Not when the vampire was so obviously ashamed of himself. "I imagine that's probably why you're sitting there."

Spike glanced up. "I never would have done it, Rupert, given the choice. I just—"

"Yes, well, we both know how stubborn Buffy can be," Giles finally said. "Why don't we leave it at that?"

Spike gave him a relieved nod. "Ta."

"Buffy's attack on Faith made it on the radio this morning," Giles said. "Apparently they brought a girl into the hospital late last night who matches her description."

Spike frowned. "That right? She going to recover?"

"She's in a coma at the moment. They're still listing her condition as critical." Giles pulled off his glassed, reaching for his handkerchief. "What are you thinking?"

Spike didn't reply right away. "Dunno. Just seems like we might be able to use that somehow." He was thinking about the Mayor's rage. The man had been angrier than he would have thought reasonable for someone who had just lost his paid assassin. Now, if he'd lost his daughter...

Giles polished his lenses slowly, the habitual motion helping him think. "We'll have to see what Buffy has to say," he decided. "Perhaps there's something there that we can use for leverage."

"We'll need something." Spike's face was lined and grim. "We'll need everything we can get."

~~~~~

"I know it's crazy," Buffy said. "But what do you guys think?"

Willow grimaced. "Well, crazy is such a strong word."

"Let's not rule it out," Giles cautioned.

"You don't think it can be done?" the Slayer asked.

"I didn't say that," he hedged.

"Personally, I think it would be impossible to come up with a crazier plan," Cordelia said.

Oz lifted an eyebrow. "We attack the Mayor with hummus."

Cordelia looked down. "I stand corrected."

"It's insanity." Spike's voice cut across the others'. He'd kept mostly to the shadows, and there wasn't a person in the room who hadn't noticed that Spike was looking more like a corpse than he normally did. "You're talking about taking a bunch of school kids and turning them into soldiers in a few hours' time."

Buffy noticeably deflated. "Spike—"

"That's why it's brilliant." He tilted his head, giving her a wry smile. "The Mayor won't be expecting it, and what he can't anticipate, he can't plan for."

Giles nodded slowly in agreement. "That's true."

Buffy took a deep breath. "So is everyone with me?" As she got nods from everyone, Buffy looked over at Xander. "I'm going to need that military expertise, Xander. Do you still remember any of that?"

"Uh, hello?" he asked, pointing at her. "Rocket launcher?"

"Right. I want you and Spike to work together. Between the two of you, come up with a plan for dealing with the troops." She glanced at the vampire. "You up for it?"

"Anything you need," he replied. "Although I might be a little challenged by the sunlight."

Wesley spoke for the first time. "It won't be a problem. From what we've determined, the sun will be completely blocked out."

Giles shook his head. "Buffy, this is all dependent on your ability to control the Mayor. That's rather a large order."

Buffy shook her head. "Faith told me to play on his human weakness."

"His human weakness?" Giles asked.

"When was that?" Willow asked. "Before you guys fought?"

"After," Buffy explained shortly. She shook her head. "That's all I know. I thought—"

"Faith."

All eyes turned to Spike. "What?" Buffy asked.

"Faith is his weakness," Spike said. "I went by the hospital this morning, and he was there."

Buffy frowned. "I thought you said you went to the store this morning."

"I did," Spike replied. "You're not the only one who needed breakfast."

Buffy decided to let that slide. "So the Mayor wasn't happy about Faith, huh?"

"Try enraged," Spike suggested.

Buffy nodded. "I can use that."

"What about the rest of us?" Wesley asked. He'd been quiet and uncharacteristically subdued.

The Slayer nodded. "Oh, I've got jobs for everyone."

~~~~~

Mayor Wilkins had made an honest effort to put Faith out of his mind, but it wasn't working. Even though he was walking his troops through the plans for later in the day, Faith's broken body still occupied a significant corner of his mind.

He had wanted to protect her.

The Mayor hadn't loved many people in his life. You didn't get very far by having warm and fuzzy feelings for people in general. It made it too hard to do what needed to be done when, say, a ritual called for human sacrifice.

Faith, on the other hand, had been special. Bright, and vibrant, and so full of life. Under his tender care, she would have blossomed. He would have made certain of it.

Now, however, all he had left was the fragile hope that she would mend, and the sweet smell of revenge.

"You'll come up through the sewers," he said, pointing at the city plans. "I want containment. No one gets away. It's crucial that I feed in the first few minutes to sustain the change." He shook his finger at them. "No feeding. If I see blood on your lips, there's going to be hell to pay."

There was a pause as Mayor Wilkins waited for all of them to nod. "Oh, and one other thing." He made sure he had their attention. "The Slayer—I want her alive. That vampire, too. I want them both alive. The person who brings them to me will be rewarded." His eyes glittered. "Highly rewarded."

~~~~~

What you could do with information from a couple books and supplies from the hardware store was amazing and not a little scary. In a couple of hours, Willow knew that she and Oz would manage to build a bomb big enough to blow up the school, and hopefully the big snake the Mayor was planning on turning into.

It was probably a really good thing she didn't have any plans for world domination.

"Do you think Buffy's going to be okay?" Willow asked as Oz scribbled down their shopping list.

He glanced up at her. "What?"

"Spike bit her, and she just seems—I don't know." Willow made a face. "Spike just seems a little off today."

Oz paused in his writing long enough to consider it. "I get it," he said after a moment.

Willow waited for him to explain, and when he didn't right away, she asked, "You get what?"

"You try to keep the demon inside locked down." Oz was suddenly completely serious, which surprised Willow. He had been cracking jokes for the last two days. It was his way of panicking, and suddenly he was serious. She knew that it wasn't just Spike he was referring to, that Oz was talking about himself as well. "It gets out, though, and the people you never wanted to see that part of you suddenly get front row seats."

Willow frowned. "But we know, Oz. We know that Spike's a vampire."

Oz shook his head. "It's different." When it looked like Willow was going to protest again, he laid his hand over hers. "Trust me. It is."

"Of course I trust you." Willow looked down at the shopping list. "We'd better get to that."

"I'll take care of it," he replied. "You start rounding people up."

Willow smiled at him. "Sure thing. I'll see you later?"

"Count on it."

~~~~~

"Heard what you did."

Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd been a little too uncomfortable to pack books with Cordelia after their disastrous kiss and had moved to a different section. He had, in fact, been wallowing in self-pity, which was why he didn't hear Spike coming.

Spike chuckled. He still enjoyed winding the Watcher up. "Alright there, Wesley?"

"I'm fine," Wesley squeaked, then cleared his throat. "What were you saying?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "I heard you went to bat for me with the Council."

Wesley shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. "I didn't do that much. I simply let them know that it wasn't a good idea to disagree with the Slayer when she had her mind set on something."

"That's still something," Spike responded. "I won't forget it."

Wesley blinked. Spike's statement sounded more like a threat than a promise. "Um, okay?"

Spike chuckled again and clapped the Watcher on the arm. "Told you I'd keep you alive long enough to get that stick out of your arse, didn't I? Figure we're about halfway there."

"I, uh, believe I'm going back to England after this," Wesley replied. "Although I do appreciate the offer."

Spike snorted, then gave Wesley a rather cynical look. "You let me know how that works out for you."

The vampire walked away, and Wesley couldn't help but think that he knew the truth. The truth was that if the Council fired him as they'd threatened to do, he'd have enough in his savings to fly back to England, but no more than that. There was no one there who would offer him a place to stay; his parents certainly wouldn't, and he hadn't kept in touch with school friends.

Wesley told people he was going back to England because he wasn't sure what other lie to tell, and he was still hopeful that this would all work out. Perhaps if Buffy managed to stop the Ascension, the Council would see that the Slayer hadn't made a mistake, and neither had he.

He never claimed that it wasn't a foolish hope.

~~~~~

Buffy stared down at the knife. It was a beautiful weapon, in a really scary way. The craftsmanship spoke of a person who probably liked knives just a little too much, while the dried blood pointed to the fact that it had been used.

She had used it.

Buffy wondered if she and Spike were going to be okay. He hadn't been happy about her asking him to drink, but he hadn't been able to say no either. She didn't regret it for a moment. Buffy knew how badly she needed him, and not just for this battle.

"Here." A brown paper sack hit the desk. "You need to eat."

Buffy glanced up to see Spike. He dropped down into the chair next to the desk. "Spike, I don't have time."

"Yes, you do. You've got an hour, which is more than enough time." His expression was impossible to read. "You'll need your strength for what you're planning."

"What about you?" Buffy objected. "You've got a key role, mister."

Spike pointed to the bag. "Talk and eat," he ordered. "And that trip to the hospital should keep me for a while. Don't worry about me."

"I'll worry about you if I want," she retorted, taking a big bite out of the sandwich. She wasn't sure what was on it, but it was good. "Talk to me?"

Spike watched her eat, waiting to respond until he was sure she was going to manage to get at least half the sandwich down her. Someone had to look out for the girl; everyone else was too busy, and he was all-too-aware that she'd lost a bit of blood. "About what?"

"You know about what." Anger and fear warred within her, and fear won out. There was no way Buffy was leaving things like this before they faced the Mayor. If something happened to one of them—

Spike seemed to read her like a book, as usual. "We're okay, Buffy," he assured her. "Told you that earlier. I'm not going to do a runner on you."

"Then can you tell me why I'm getting that vibe? Because you're very vibe-y."

"Bad memories, is all," Spike said.

"From Angel?"

"Angelus," he corrected her. "And, yeah. I'm a selfish bastard, Buffy. This wasn't the first time I chose to save my own hide over saving someone else."

Buffy gave him an exasperated sigh. "How many times do I have to say it? There was no expense! I'm fine, you're fine—"

"I bit you," he said stubbornly. "You don't do that to the girl you love."

"In what universe?" she demanded. "If you hadn't bit me, I would have cut my wrist and made you drink that way."

Spike stared at her. "Buffy, you don't—"

"Don't you dare tell me I don't understand!" she hissed at him. "Let me guess. Angelus made you drink from somebody." The look on his face—a mixture of shame and surprise—told her that she was right on the mark.

Buffy could be perceptive when she wanted to be.

"So you had to drink in order to save your own life, and you feel bad," Buffy said. "Well, I went and nearly gutted Faith to save you, so don't think that I'm not willing to go all the way to make sure you're okay. I would have dragged her body back and made sure you drained every drop, so don't tell me I don't know about morally ambiguous choices."

"Big word, pet," Spike said, a smile beginning to tease the corners of his lips.

She smacked him on the arm. "Stop that."

"As you wish." When it looked like Buffy might punch him in the nose, Spike grabbed her hand. "Give me some time, Buffy. I've looked after myself for nearly a century. Having someone concerned for my welfare—it's going to take some getting used to."

Buffy mock-scowled at him. "Well, get used to it."

"Yes, General."

Their eyes met and locked, and then as one they turned to look at the clock. "I wish we had more time," Buffy whispered. She needed to be out there, making sure everything was a go. Spike needed to get into place.

There was no more time.

"I'll see you later," Spike said firmly, as though he didn't have a doubt that they would be just fine.

Buffy managed a smile for him. "Absolutely."

They wouldn't allow themselves to contemplate doing anything else.