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.
Author's Notes: 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.
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 11
"I have been one acquainted with the night./I have walked out in rain—and back in rain./I have outwalked the furthest city light...I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet/When far away an interrupted cry/Came over houses from another street,/But not to call me back or say good-by..." ~Robert Frost, "Acquainted With the Night"
Spike woke to find a message waiting for him on his cell phone. Buffy had asked him to meet them at the school library as soon as he possibly could.
He frowned slightly. Spike had patroled with the two Slayers the previous night, but they had been talking about Buffy's new boy-toy. When Faith had said all men were out for one thing, Spike had decided to call it a night.
Maybe he wasn't human, but he was still a guy. He didn't need to stick around for the male-bashing portion of the evening. He didn't particularly care to hear about the wonders of Scott Hope, either.
What kind of a nancy-boy name was that, anyway?
It seemed as though Buffy and Faith had reached some sort of understanding, and the new Slayer appeared to accept the fact that Spike was not to be staked.
Spike had left to pursue his own interests, which had included a couple of beers at the Bronze and hustling a few brain-dead gits at pool. He'd made fifty bucks and killed a couple of vampires. It had been a fairly typical evening.
He might have tried to find Willow or Oz, but he'd remembered that the werewolf was locked up for the evening and the witch had a test the next day. So, after a few hours, he'd called it a night and had gone home.
The message from Buffy was just terse enough to have him taking the sewers to the school, although Spike was careful not to be seen as he navigated the tunnels. There had been a lot of underground activity lately, and he would rather not get caught by anyone.
Keeping a low profile didn't come naturally, and it had been a difficult lesson to learn over the years, but it had stuck.
"What's up?" he asked as he entered the library. The faces that greeted him were grim, and even Oz—who was typically nearly expressionless—didn't look too happy.
Buffy sighed. "It looks like we have a small problem."
"Oz killed a kid." Xander blurted out.
Willow gave him a dirty look. "We don't know that, Xander."
"Slow down." Spike took a seat at the table. "What exactly happened?"
"A student was found mauled to death," Giles explained. "We don't know for certain that it was Oz, but since the window was open, there's no way to be sure it wasn't."
Spike frowned. "I thought somebody usually stayed with you," he said, looking over at the boy.
Oz gave him a grateful look. Even though he understood why they were doing it, he didn't care for the way they were all talking around him. "They do."
"Xander fell asleep," Willow said, still not looking too pleased with her friend.
Xander shrugged, looking extremely guilty. "It was just for a little while."
Spike sighed. "So, what's the plan? You want me to stay here?"
"Could you?" Buffy asked gratefully. "I thought Faith and I could patrol to make sure that there wasn't anything else out there. It could easily be another demon of some kind."
"Besides," Willow added. "You're a vampire, so you won't fall asleep."
Spike shrugged. "Being nocturnal goes with the territory. I don't have a problem sticking around."
"Thanks." It was one word, but Spike could hear the tension in Oz's voice.
"Whatever." Spike shifted uncomfortably. "I still owe you for helping me find a place."
Willow broke the uncomfortable silence that fell. "Okay, well, Xander and I are going to go examine the body, see if we can't find anything there."
"And I've got to meet Faith," Buffy announced. "I'll catch up with the rest of you tomorrow."
A few minutes later, they were all gone. Giles left him directions on where he could find tea if he wanted it, and then left for home. Willow had tried to say goodbye to Oz, but he wasn't in the mood. Spike couldn't blame him. The idea that you'd killed an innocent—it wasn't an easy burden to bear.
Spike would know.
Darkness fell, and Spike was left in the library with a werewolf in a cage. He decided to find a book to read to keep him occupied for the night, since it looked like he was going to be stuck there. Someone had left The Call of the Wild on the central table, and Spike quickly found himself lost in the story.
After a few hours, the growls from Oz tapered off, and all Spike could hear were the sounds of the werewolf whining in his dreams and the dripping of a leaky faucet somewhere in the building.
It wasn't the first time Spike had been asked to guard something—or someone. He generally relished this sort of job as a nice change of pace, even though he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt.
"Spike?" The quiet voice called his attention away from the novel, and he looked up to see Willow watching him. "How are things going?"
He frowned, realizing that he had about an hour before the sun came up. "What are you doing here, Red? There's still a few hours yet before class, yeah?"
"I wanted to be sure you got back home before the sun came up." She came over to sit next to him on the table. "Thanks for staying."
"It wasn't a problem, pet," Spike said gently. "There wasn't any trouble."
She smiled. "He's really upset about this whole thing, you know?"
"Don't blame him," Spike replied. "It's not easy to be out of control, and yet to know you're responsible for any damage you do."
"But he's not responsible!" Willow protested. "Oz can't help what he does while he's the wolf."
Spike shook his head. "You can't draw that line, Red. My guess is that your boy knows that the wolf is with him all the time. It's not something he can get rid of, even if it's only in control three days out of the month."
Willow shook her head, finding it difficult to accept that reasoning. "But—"
"Not saying that he's guilty of killing anybody, just that you can't always draw that line inside your own skull." Spike was quiet for a long moment, unsure if he should share more. "After I got my soul, Angelus would taunt me. He'd try to get me to go back to what I had been. The very idea of killing someone made my stomach turn, and that's not an easy thing for a vampire."
Willow was silent, staring at him in rapt fascination. She seemed to sense what a momentous occasion this was for Spike to be telling this story. "So he starved me. Wouldn't let me feed for weeks until I was so bloody hungry I went a bit mad."
Spike stopped. He didn't want to go on, to remember the expression on the girl's frightened face when he ripped her throat out. It hadn't been the first time that Angelus had done it to him, and Spike had grown better at controlling the hunger for longer periods of time, but a vampire needed blood.
There was always a breaking point, and Angelus had always made certain that they were bleeding when he thrust their bodies into Spike's face.
"That's not your fault either," Willow protested. "You—it was Angel's fault." She fell silent for a moment. "Oh."
"Exactly."
Willow was quiet for a long time. "Will he be okay?"
"From what I've seen of him? Yeah." Spike gave her a smile. Willow had never seen that expression on his face before—it was almost gentle. "He's got you, Red." Spike stood to leave, wanting to get back to his place before the sun came up.
"Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?"
Willow was silent, unable to find the right words to use in a situation like this. She was learning that sometimes there were no words. So she reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.
Spike stared at her for a second before squeezing back.
She couldn't help but think that maybe she'd found the right words after all.
~~~~~
Buffy liked Scott Hope. He was nice. He was sweet. He had a great sense of humor. If she were the kind of girl to make a pros and cons list, his pros would definitely outweigh his cons by a ton. She was totally ready for an undemanding relationship.
That didn't really explain why she couldn't quite feel comfortable with him. There was a slight disconnect there that she was trying really hard to ignore.
Slaying, thankfully, was good for things like that. When in doubt, distract yourself with demon-killing.
It was different when the "demon" in question turned out to be a fellow student and one of your boyfriend's best friends.
When the school counselor's body was found mutilated in the middle of the day, they were all relieved that Oz wasn't the culprit. Of course, that left them with the dilemma of finding out who was responsible.
Finding Debbie in the girls' locker room, trying to cover a black eye with makeup, was definitely a major clue. "It's tricky, covering a fresh shiner like that. You know what works?"
Debbie didn't turn away from the mirror. She just continued to dab on foundation. "What?"
"Don't get hit." There was a small part of Buffy that wanted to sympathize. She knew what it was like to love a guy who treated you like shit. It had taken her a long time before she could get to the point where she could kill Angel.
Of course, that didn't mean that she'd stopped loving him, and Buffy could honestly say that it was a part of herself that she hated. She hated that she'd loved Angel—even after he'd been responsible for Jenny Calendar's death.
Maybe that was why she had very little actual sympathy for Debbie. Buffy had managed to kill the man she loved; Debbie couldn't even tell the truth. The Slayer couldn't afford sympathy when people were dying.
"What's going on, Debbie?" Buffy asked, coming up to stand next to the girl, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "I'll bet the farm you know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, turning to leave.
Buffy wasn't about to let that happen. "You know, normally I'd understand needing to keep a secret. In this case, however, people are dying, and I'm betting you know why. So why?"
On the last word, Buffy gave her a little shake and a push, forcing Debbie to sit on one of the benches. Debbie shook her head. "No, it—it's my fault. I make him angry. Pete just does it because he loves me too much."
Willow stared at her. "But Jeff and Mr. Platt were killed by wild animals." There was a pause. "Weren't they?"
Buffy's smile was cold. "Pete's not like other guys, is he, Debbie?"
Debbie tried to stand. "I don't know what you're talking about. I have to go."
The Slayer pushed her back down again. "No, you have to tell us what's going on. We can't help you until you do."
"I didn't ask for your help!" Debbie protested.
Willow looked incredulous. "Well, when were you going to? Because if you wait till Pete kills you, it's pretty much too late."
Debbie just shook her head, her eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape route.
Buffy definitely preferred dealing with demons. At least she got to beat the information out of them.
~~~~~
There were no messages waiting for Spike when he woke the next afternoon, which left him absurdly disappointed. He was planning on meeting the Slayers later for patrol, but he'd hoped that someone would have called him with news of Oz.
Spike dressed and ate, heading out as soon as the sun went down. In the Mustang, the trip to the school only took a few minutes, and he headed inside immediately. Something wasn't sitting right with him.
It was just a hunch, but Spike paid attention to his hunches. His gut rarely led him wrong.
Although there had been a few occasions when his instincts had failed him, and his screw-ups had been spectacular.
Spike was glad he'd come when he saw the chaos in the hallway. Willow was sprawled on the floor, a snarling Oz heading straight for her. Faith had the dart gun, and she managed to shoot the werewolf just as he reached the fallen girl.
"Where's Buffy?" he demanded, knowing that if there was more damage being done, Buffy would be right in the middle of things.
Faith shook her head. "I don't know. She went after Pete."
Spike didn't know who Pete was, and he didn't care. His job was to make sure Buffy didn't die, and that just required finding her.
He caught the scent of blood as he headed back towards the library, and Spike detoured to follow the trail, figuring that there were good odds he'd find the Slayer.
What he found was the body of a dead girl, and the Slayer facing off with a kid about her own age. There was something wrong with the kid, although Spike wasn't exactly sure what it was.
"You're all the same!" The shout was echoed with a backhanded punch that knocked Buffy into a stack of crates.
Spike didn't wait; he waded into the fight, jerking the kid back by the collar and tossing him across the room. "Back off," he warned.
The kid flew at him, swinging wildly, and Spike grappled with him, trying to gain some control. He was prepared to kill, but only if he had to.
Of course, you don't always get what you want.
"He's not human anymore, Spike!"
The sound of Buffy's voice seemed to do something to Pete, who tried to get around Spike to rush her. Spike grabbed his head as he twisted around, letting Pete's own momentum carry him forward.
There was a sharp crack as his neck twisted and broke, and Spike let the body drop to the ground in distaste. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied, pushing herself up. Spike's hand was under her elbow in the next moment, assisting her, making sure she was steady before letting her go. Buffy glanced at Pete's body, then at Debbie's. "He's the one," she murmured. "He killed three people because he loved her." She stared at the twisted body of the girl. "And she loved him so much she let him."
Spike shook his head. Somehow he knew that she wasn't just talking about Debbie and Pete. "I don't think that's the way it works. I don't think you can call that love."
Their eyes met, and Spike stepped aside to let her precede him out the door. They both knew the pain that comes from loving dangerously.
~~~~~
Spike couldn't settle after that. He'd left Buffy with a sympathetic Willow—Oz would sleep for the rest of the night, so there was no need to leave someone in the library. The Slayer would be fine. He'd done his job—she was alive and basically unharmed.
He never had been quite able to wrap his mind around the evil that people inflicted upon each other. Spike understood the lure of lawlessness, of course. He recognized the seductiveness of the dark, the corrosiveness of power—especially when you felt weak yourself.
Such wastefulness, though, death piled upon death—such a twisted kind of love—it didn't quite make sense.
Or perhaps it did, and that's what made him so uncomfortable. Maybe it made too much sense, reminding him too much of Drusilla.
She, too, had a funny way of showing her love.
Needing a good hunt to distract him, and wanting to forget how it had felt to twist that boy's neck, Spike set off to find some trouble. There was very little stirring in Sunnydale, and he was disappointed in the lack of action.
About an hour before dawn, Spike found a couple of fledglings to stake—pathetic creatures who were barely worth the effort.
"I was going to get those," Faith said as he dusted the second.
Spike shrugged. "Have to be faster then."
They stared at one another for a long moment, the silence tense. Suddenly Faith grinned at him. "I hear you had some good moves tonight."
Spike relaxed slightly. He hadn't been sure how Faith would react to him without Buffy around to play mediator. Although it'd be a rush to fight the girl, he didn't trust her not to stake him, not like he'd trusted Buffy. "Wasn't too hard. He was strong, but not much more."
"Still, pretty crazy, huh?" Faith asked conversationally. "I mean, you don't expect the demon to be a kid, right?"
"No, I don't suppose you do," Spike replied, falling into step next to her. "How are things, Slayer?"
Faith gave a casual toss of her head, and the vampire could feel the sensuality coming off her in waves. "Five by five, blondie."
They were standing in front of his car. "You want a ride?"
Faith smirked. "Wouldn't mind."
"Not that kind of ride." Spike's lips twitched, amused.
She gave an appreciative chuckle. "Some other time then."
"We'll see," Spike said, getting in, watching as Faith slid into the passenger side.
Faith ran a hand over the dash. "Car like this'll get a girl hot."
Her eyes offered a challenge Spike was tempted to take. It had been a long time since he'd had a good shag, but there were certain rules that he'd set for himself. He didn't mix business with pleasure on long-term jobs.
And Spike didn't do children. Whatever Faith might think, she was barely more than a kid.
"Then I suppose you'll be taking a cold shower." He softened the words with a wink, and she laughed, recognizing that he wasn't going to take her up on her invitation, at least not tonight.
Faith didn't mind all that much. She loved a good challenge.
" Time will say nothing but I told you so,/Time only knows the price we have to pay;/If I could tell you I would let you know./If we should weep when clowns put on their show ,/ If we should stumble when musicians play,/Time will say nothing but I told you so./There are no fortunes to be told, although,/Because I love you more than I can say,/If I could tell you I would let you know..." ~W. H. Auden, "If I Could Tell You"
Buffy wasn't all that surprised when Scott came up to her in the hallway at school, telling her that he couldn't be in a relationship with her. She kind of knew that it was coming. It was just another example of how dating and slaying seemed to be mutually exclusive activities.
"You seem distracted a lot," Scott told her. "Before we were going out, you seemed like a force of nature, but now..."
He trailed off, and Buffy sighed. She wished she could tell him that the whole force-of-nature thing was because she was one, and that it pretty much prevented her from giving her full attention to a guy. Especially if he was a guy who couldn't go kill demons with her.
It had been silly to think that it would work. Scott was nice, but Buffy had more in common with Spike than she did with him.
Other than the fact that getting dumped just sucked in general, Scott had been insensitive enough to do it just before Homecoming.
Of course, Buffy was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Two of his best friends had just died, and she probably hadn't played the supportive girlfriend the way she ought to have. There had been a rash of vampires in town recently, and patrol had been hopping.
"I'm sorry," Buffy said finally. "I wish it had worked out."
Scott nodded, not meeting her eyes, and hurried off. Buffy sighed, leaning wearily against the lockers.
Her life sucked.
~~~~~
Joyce didn't much like fighting. She'd gotten her fill of that with Hank before their divorce. Although things had become more amicable since that time, it still didn't sit well, especially when her daughter got caught in the middle.
That was why it was both a relief and a letdown when Giles immediately agreed with her. "Of course Buffy needs to spend time preparing for her SAT's," he said. "In fact, I was planning on helping her."
Joyce took the cup of tea he offered her. "Thank you. I had thought—"
"Slaying is important, but so is Buffy's future," Giles said, interpreting her unfinished sentence correctly. "With Faith in Sunnydale, it might be possible for Buffy to go elsewhere for university."
Joyce relaxed further. She had hoped to speak with Giles about Buffy's chances at living a relatively normal life, and he had brought it up without any prodding from her. "I had hoped you would say that," she admitted. "We'll have to see how she does on her tests, of course."
Her dubious tone caused Giles' lips to twitch. "She might surprise you. Buffy often manages to pull a miracle out of her hat."
She gave him a warm smile in return. "Oh, I know. I have faith in her. I'm sure if she didn't have the slaying she would be doing much better in school."
Giles winced reflexively. That wasn't the first time Joyce had made a similar comment. "Yes, well—"
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Joyce hastened to assure him. "School has never been Buffy's highest priority, and saving the world is a very good thing. It's just that sometimes I wish things could have been different."
"That is entirely understandable," Giles replied gently. He couldn't help but think that Joyce was much more resigned to matters now than she had been. This wasn't the first such conversation that they'd had.
Joyce laughed a little. "Oh, ignore me. It's been a difficult week, and I'm feeling sorry for myself."
"Is there anything I can do?" Giles asked.
"No, it was mostly the gallery." She paused. "Plus, this is never an easy time of the year. Hank and I got divorced about this time."
Giles leaned in a little. "Would you like to talk about it, perhaps? Sometimes it helps to have another adult to talk to."
Joyce couldn't help it; her heart leapt a little at that. She hadn't wanted to appear needy, but she so needed someone to talk to. Spike hadn't stopped in yet this week, and so there had been no one to share her burdens with. "I wouldn't want to keep you."
"I didn't have any other plans for the evening." Something in Joyce's eyes gave Giles the courage to say, "Besides, why wouldn't I want to spend time with a beautiful woman?"
~~~~~
"Being that distracted will get you killed, Summers."
Spike's voice came out of nowhere, causing Buffy to jump in surprise and proving his point. She whirled to face him. He stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned. "You were sneaking," she accused.
"Vampire," he replied. "What else did you expect? If I'd wanted to kill you, I could have done it about three times by now."
Buffy sighed. "Okay, you're right. Patrol's been dead tonight."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"
"I'm good," she said quickly. "Tired, maybe. I should probably just go home."
"Buffy." The single word stopped her, and she met his worried eyes. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Which is why you didn't even hear me kill two fledges while following you."
She might have accused him of making that up, but Buffy could read the truth in his face. Spike had been watching her back all night, so she supposed she at least owed him an explanation. "Scott dumped me."
Spike hadn't quite been expecting something like that. His relationships tended to run along the lines of one-night stands, and he had little experience comforting others.
He was getting plenty of practice being around Buffy, however.
"Well, I guess that just proves he's a complete idiot, then," Spike said, trying to keep things light. The reluctant smile that crossed Buffy's face indicated that he'd taken the right tack. "So what excuse did he give?"
"That I was distracted, not completely there with him," Buffy replied. "I guess he's got a point. There's been a lot of vampire activity lately, so I've had to pull a lot of patrols, and I've been tired."
Spike hesitated, then offered, "Maybe you're better rid of him, then."
"Maybe," Buffy allowed. "It still sucks, though. We were supposed to go to Homecoming together, and now I'm dateless."
"So get another date," Spike replied. "There have to be dozens of guys who'd love to go with you."
Buffy laughed. "Right. They want to go out with 'that weird chick.' Pretty much, no. Faith suggested we go stag together, but I don't know."
"Why don't I crash this dance of yours?" Spike suggested.
Buffy stared at him in surprise. "What?"
"Major problem with going with another girl is that everyone knows you don't have a date, right?"
Sometimes Spike's understanding of very human matters surprised Buffy. She was fairly certain that Angel wouldn't have gotten that, even though she probably would have been able to rope him into going with her. "Pretty much," she agreed cautiously, wondering what Spike was thinking.
"So I show up, dance with you for a bit, and disappear again," he suggested. "Everybody wonders who the mysterious stranger is, and you can just look superior." Spike grinned at her. "Solves your problem."
Buffy started laughing. "You're insane. You know that, right?"
"What?" he asked, still grinning. "It's a decent plan."
"And it's completely unnecessary," Buffy replied, still smiling and shaking her head. Her face softened and then grew serious. "Thank you, though, for offering. That was nice."
Spike mock-scowled. "I've told you, Slayer. I'm not a nice man."
"Sure you aren't," she agreed, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
He stood. "I'll walk you home. Probably a good idea for you to catch up on your beauty sleep."
Buffy glared at him. "Was that a hint?"
"Could be," he replied with a smirk. They argued good naturedly all the way to her house. Spike prevented Buffy from going inside immediately by putting a hand on her arm. "Look, Slayer, keep an eye out. I've been hearing some rumors about some game a vampire is running. I don't have enough information just yet, but—"
"I'll keep my eyes peeled," Buffy promised. She had her hand on the doorknob, but she wasn't moving. Spike's eyes were on hers, and the moment had taken on a tension that made her go still.
"I have to go," Spike said, heading out into the night.
Buffy didn't call him back even though she wanted to. She'd never thought she would be friends with a vampire before, but somehow that was exactly what had happened.
~~~~~
Not that Spike liked to admit it, but his soft spot for Buffy was growing. What had been strictly business was turning into something else entirely. He thought—maybe—they might even be friends. He didn't remember ever having friends in the past.
There had been Anouk, but their relationship had been based on a common purpose. Buffy reminded him of the French woman at times. They were both focused, both warriors. At the end of the war, Spike had bid her goodbye and hadn't looked back.
Anouk had never regarded the time they spent together as anything more than a diversion from the horrors of war. Spike had been careful to do the same. Although he'd cared for her, he had never loved her.
There was nothing diversionary about Buffy, however. She was the Slayer. She'd dated his bastard of a grandsire. Spike had no desire to get any closer than he already was.
Still, protecting her wasn't just a job anymore. It was becoming a calling.
"Bloody hell," Spike muttered, pushing the matter out of his mind. It wasn't as if he had to make any kind of decision yet. Keeping Buffy alive was turning into a full time job all by itself.
Especially with Slayerfest going on.
Spike scanned the faces in the school gym. He could see Willow, Oz, Xander and Cordelia, but there was no sign of Buffy or Faith. Picking his way through the crowd, he ignored the looks he was getting from the students. Some of the girls were regarding him with interest, but most of the teens were suspicious.
"Where's Buffy?" he demanded as soon as he made his way to Willow.
Willow frowned, worried. "I don't know. The limo was supposed to pick up Faith and Buffy first, and then come for us, but it never showed."
Spike didn't like the sound of that. "At least Faith's with her," he muttered. "Is Giles here?"
Willow shrugged helplessly. "Somewhere around here. He's supposed to be chaperoning."
The vampire took off, looking for the Watcher in the crowd, finally spotting him near the punch. "Rupert, we need to talk."
Giles stared at him. "Spike? Is everything alright?"
"Do you think I'd be here if it was?" Spike tugged on his arm, pulling him to one side of the room, as far away from prying ears as he could get. "I've got some information. Seems like a vampire in town put a price on the Slayers' heads."
Giles' eyes widened. "Are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be," Spike replied. "I'd heard something big was coming, but didn't have any of the details. Willow tells me the Slayers never showed."
He frowned. "They didn't? I had assumed they were coming separately."
Willow and Xander had sidled up next to them. "What's going on?" Xander asked, sounding more than a little nervous.
"You didn't tell me that Buffy and Faith never arrived," Giles said.
Xander and Willow exchanged a guilty look. "There's been a lot going on tonight," Willow said. "We thought that maybe they decided not to come."
"Xander! Why aren't we dancing?" Cordelia asked. "What's going on? Is the world ending again, because it can't end before I get crowned."
Spike stared at her, then decided ignoring the girl was his best option. "Why didn't you say anything about the limo not coming?"
"Oz ended up having to come early," Willow explained. "I decided it would be better to stick close to him."
Spike's eyes narrowed. There was something she wasn't telling him. She and Xander were lying about something. He could smell it. "What about you two?" he asked, looking at Xander and Cordelia.
"When the limo was late, I drove," Cordelia explained. "There was no way I was going to miss my big night."
The vampire rolled his eyes. "Some friends you lot turned out to be."
"What would you suggest?" Giles asked.
Spike sighed. "Dunno. They could be anywhere at this point, and neither one of them has a cell phone." He glanced around the room. "Only thing I can think of is to sit tight. They're probably together at least."
"Let's go back to the library," Giles suggested. "If Buffy can call, that's probably where."
Spike nodded shortly, following the Watcher out of the crowded room. Willow and Xander were on Spike's heels. "What should we do?"
"Stay put," he ordered brusquely. "It's better if you're safe here than out where we've got to worry about you."
He marched off, leaving the two teens looking rather disconsolate. "They wouldn't have to worry about us," Willow protested. "We can take care of ourselves."
They looked at each other, and Xander sidled away. "I need to get back to Cordy," he said quickly, hurrying back into the gym.
Willow leaned up against the wall, hardly believing what they'd done. She'd kissed Xander. He'd kissed her. Once upon a time, it would have been a dream come true, and now it was her worst nightmare. She had never wanted to cheat on Oz.
Willow had no idea how she was going to fix this one.
~~~~~
This was why Faith didn't normally wear dresses. It was a pain in the ass to fight in one.
"What have we got?" Buffy asked, glancing out the window of the cabin.
Faith held up the phone in triumph. "Who do you want to call?"
"Call Spike's cell," Buffy said. "I don't know if Giles will be in the library or not."
"You have his number?"
Buffy ran over, dialing from memory. "Spike?"
"Slayer? Where the hell are you?"
"A cabin in Miller's Woods," Buffy replied. "We've got people hunting us."
"I know. Look, can you sit tight? I can be there in a few minutes."
"We'll try," she said. "No promises, though, I—" Buffy threw the handset down. "Dammit!"
"What?" Faith gave her a look.
Buffy shook her head. "The line went dead."
"Shit," Faith muttered. "What about the vamp? He going to be here?"
Buffy sighed. "I don't know. He's supposed to be. Spike said to sit tight, and he's going to come get us."
Faith gave her a grudging nod. "Might be a good idea to wait for transportation." She stripped the corsage off her wrist. "Wish I'd gone butch and worn pants tonight."
"I hear you," Buffy replied. "I certainly won't be wearing this dress again." She pulled her corsage off too, then paused, seeing the transmitter hidden in the arrangement. "Faith. This is how they were tracking us."
Faith looked at her own corsage. "Son of a bitch. What now?"
"I think it's time to change the rules." Buffy tossed the arrangement on the floor, stomping on it hard. "Let's go."
"What about Spike?" Faith asked.
Buffy just grinned. "If I know Spike, he'll still manage to find us."
"A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne/From year to year until I saw thy face,/And sorrow after sorrow took the place/Of all those natural joys as lightly worn/As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn/By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace/ Were changed to long despairs, till God's own grace/Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn/My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring/And let it drop adown thy calmly great/Deep being !... " ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnett XXV"
Once again, Spike followed the scent of blood, soon locating a man frantically trying to get his leg out of a bear trap. "What have we here?"
"You have to help me," the man said. "These girls—they're crazy. They just left me here."
Spike's face shifted. "You wouldn't be talking about the Slayers, would you?"
The hunter's face hardened. "Good luck finding them," he snarled. "They'll dust you so fast—"
"You don't understand," Spike replied. "I'm on their side." In another moment, Spike had made certain that the man wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again. He figured that anyone who'd hunt a couple of teenage girls for money didn't deserve a second chance.
That, and he was hungry.
He kept hunting, following the faint scent of Buffy's perfume. Spike heard the creak of a branch above him right before a heavy weight landed on his back. He hit the ground face first. "Oof!"
"Spike." Buffy scrambled off of him. "You came."
"Yeah. Told you I would," he said, pushing himself off the ground and brushing himself off. "Where's your partner in crime?"
"Killing me a demon. Where else?" Faith asked, emerging from the shadows. She held a nasty looking blade. "Grabbed a knife from the yellow-skinned guy."
"How many others?" Spike asked, glancing around.
Buffy shook her head. "The guy in the bear trap said there were two Germans who were working together and a vampire couple." She gave Spike an apologetic look. "I thought you were the vampire."
"Well, yeah, but not the one trying to kill you," Spike said sarcastically. He glanced around the deep shadows of the woods. "I'm thinking we might want to get back to the school. Being out here gives them the advantage."
Faith shrugged. "Might not be a bad idea," she allowed. "Nature gives me the wiggins."
"Let's go," Buffy agreed, falling into step behind Spike as he led the way back to his car. "How did you find us?"
"You found me," he replied, smirking at her over his shoulder. When Buffy gave him a dirty look, Spike shrugged. "I ran into that bear trap fellow. Not hard to follow your scent from there, and then you dropped down on me."
"Where were you when I called?" Buffy asked.
"At the school," Spike replied absently. "Heard about this thing at the last minute, and I wanted to find you, make sure you were okay."
Buffy frowned. "What about everybody else? I figured they'd freak when the limo didn't show up."
"They were probably too busy necking with each other," Faith cut in.
Spike snorted. "You might not be too far off. Turns out Willow decided to head over to the school early with Oz, and Cordelia wasn't about to be late for her big night."
"Please," Buffy said. "She was buying her votes."
Spike smiled at her. "You didn't run?"
"When do I have time for that?" Buffy asked. "Please. I'm so above that." Faith and Spike stared at her. "Okay, I'm not above it. It just didn't seem worth it. At least I got my picture in the yearbook."
Spike slid in behind the wheel, waiting until the Slayers closed the car doors before he roared off. "We'll get some weapons and then see what we can do about hunting the bastards down, yeah?"
"Sounds like a plan," Faith said. "I'm ready for a good fight."
~~~~~
The good fight Faith was expecting turned out to be pretty disappointing. Lyle and Candy Gorch, the vampire couple the Slayers had been warned about, were ridiculously easy to take care of. Spike didn't plan on letting Giles forget that they had caught him unawares any time soon.
Unfortunately, even without the tracking devices in the corsages, the Germans proved capable of following the Slayers back to the school. After the first shot was fired, Spike ordered the Slayers to remain in the library.
"Are you kidding?" Buffy demanded. "They're out there, and—"
"They're human," Spike said flatly. "Are either of you ready to take down an armed man with a gun?" There was a long silence. "That's what I thought. Stay put."
Spike didn't mind living off of pigs' blood. When he could manage it, he liked getting the spare bags from the hospital. Blood just past its use-by date wasn't too bad, although it was never quite as good as getting it from the source.
That was why he relished taking it straight from the tap.
Spike had long ago decided that some humans didn't deserve to live. He didn't actively hunt humans these days, simply because he wasn't about to appoint himself judge, jury and executioner. He had no trouble eating someone in self-defense, however.
This was how he'd made his living the last hundred years. He had hunted men—and women—who had made it their business to kill others. Spike's job, a lot of the time, was to kill them first.
Spike was very good at his job.
The Germans were so reliant upon technology, they didn't notice the vampire sneaking up behind them. Spike had his teeth buried in the first one's throat before the man knew anything was there. The second one went down just as quickly, and he dragged both of the bodies outside and stuffed them in a dumpster.
Giles was conscious by the time Spike made it back to the library. "What did you do with them?"
"I took care of it," Spike replied. "They won't be doing any big-game hunting again."
Giles frowned. "Spike—"
"They were hunting two adolescent girls," Spike said patiently. "Did you want me to slap them on the wrist?"
"Never mind," Giles replied with a sigh, recognizing that the vampire might be right in this situation.
"Where are the Slayers?" Spike asked.
Giles nodded towards the door. "They went to see the coronation. I think they wanted to be there for Cordelia."
Spike nodded, suddenly feeling the distance. They were children, and they still belonged to this world.
He didn't, and he couldn't fool himself into thinking that he did.
"I should get going," he said.
Giles felt a pang. "Wait, Spike. Thank you. That little mess could have turned out much worse."
"Just doing my job," Spike replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"Would you like a drink?"
Spike hesitated, then turned. "Didn't think you kept alcohol here."
"It's a special occasion," Giles replied.
"What's that then?"
Giles shrugged. "Well, if Cordelia has won, that would suffice. If she hasn't, that would probably mark the first time in the history of the world that she hasn't gotten what she wanted."
Spike chuckled. "Yeah. I could use a drink." He had long ago learned to take the moments of respite where they came, moments of camaraderie when you could.
They were rare in the sort of life he led.
~~~~~
Mayor Wilkins finished off his well-balanced snack and meticulously cleaned his desk of any stray crumbs, brushing them into the wastebasket. He then took out a moist towelette and wiped off his hands. The working environment was very important.
Cleanliness was next to godliness.
Well, in his case, it wasn't, but that was hardly the point. The point was that he had quite a bit to get done in the next few months, goals to reach, and a structured working environment was the best way to stay on track.
The Mayor leaned back in his chair, considering his options. Mr. Trick had proven himself quite creative. SlayerFest, even though it hadn't been successful, had certainly kept those girls hopping. He needed another diversion, and it looked as though the dapper vampire might be capable of providing it.
Those Slayers weren't his only problem, however. Mayor Wilkins was well aware of Spike's presence and his reputation. Had this not been an Ascension year, the Mayor would have left well enough alone. An element such as Spike provided was usually good for business.
Angel, now, he wouldn't have been so bad to have around. That vampire was so besotted with the blonde Slayer that he was either following her around like a big dog or trying to kill her. Spike showed no indication of having the good taste to do the same.
Mayor Wilkins folded his hands in front of his face, thinking deeply. It wasn't critical to get the blond vampire out of his way as of yet. An operation like this needed to be done carefully. If it was unsuccessful, the Mayor knew he would tip his hand early, which wasn't what he wanted at all.
At least, not before everything was in place.
~~~~~
"Come on, Spike."
"I've been warned about you, Slayer."
"You've never seen me!"
"Your mum tipped me off."
"She didn't!" Buffy protested, then frowned. "She totally did, didn't she?"
Spike shrugged. "Did you really think I was going to let you drive my car?" he asked. "You could be Mario Andretti, and I still wouldn't let you get behind the wheel of my baby."
They were approaching Buffy's house at this point, having been arguing all the way from the cemetery. Buffy was determined to find someone to teach her how to drive; Spike was equally determined not to be that someone.
Buffy knew a good opening when she saw it. "You love your car more than me."
"Well, yeah," Spike shot back. "The car didn't nearly get me killed tonight."
"That totally wasn't my fault," Buffy pouted. "I told you to duck."
"After that crossbow came within an inch of ending my unlife," Spike said, opening the door for her without thinking about it.
Buffy gave him an odd look, but decided not to question Spike's good manners. "I already told you I was sorry."
"That's not the point. The point is that a crossbow is much easier to operate than a car, and I'm not letting you operate mine." Spike saw Joyce. "Back me up here."
Joyce looked at her daughter with a silent apology. "Sorry, sweetheart. If Spike won't let you drive his car, you're out of luck."
"I'm old enough," Buffy replied. "I'm responsible."
"You failed the written test," Joyce pointed out. "They wouldn't even let you take the driving test." She frowned. "I thought you were studying this evening."
Buffy plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs. "I did study. For hours. Then Spike came and rescued me so I could go on patrol."
"What about Faith?"
"Who knows where Faith is?" Buffy asked. "She disappears occasionally. This is one of those occasions."
Spike smiled at Joyce, turning on the charm. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm fairly certain I saved Rupert from an early death. Your daughter looked like she was about ready to implode and take the library with her."
"Totally," Buffy agreed. "I told you Spike rescued me."
"And Rupert."
The emphasis that Spike placed on the Watcher's name had Joyce giving him a sharp look. It wasn't as though they were hiding the fact that they got together occasionally to discuss Buffy—among other things. It simply hadn't come up in conversation.
Joyce was fairly certain that it wasn't a discussion she wanted to have with her daughter. In Buffy's words, she would "totally wig."
Spike just smiled. The older woman decided to let it go. "Would you two like something to drink?"
The vampire shook his head. "I don't want to put you to any trouble."
"Sit," Joyce replied. "It's no trouble."
Spike listened as Joyce and Buffy bantered back and forth about the upcoming test and the possibility of attempting to get a driver's license. Times like this made him forget that he didn't here.
Not that it bothered him to forget. Spike had long ago discovered that not remembering was sometimes for the best.
~~~~~
"So how many candy bars did Buffy con you into buying?" Joyce asked the next night when Giles arrived.
He smiled ruefully. "The rest of the box. She pointed out that selling the band candy took away vital patrol and study time. You?"
"The same," Joyce replied. "And for virtually the same reasons." She offered him half a bar. "They really are very good, however."
Giles took the chocolate and started munching on it. "Oh, indeed. I think I'll get my money's worth. Besides, I'm always willing to help Buffy with Snyder."
"He's such an awful little man," Joyce agreed. "I hope Buffy sold hers faster than anyone else. I know he has it in for her."
Giles let his hand rest casually on Joyce's thigh. He wasn't sure where his courage was coming from, but he wasn't in the mood to question it.
Nor did he wish to question the fact that she shifted just a little bit closer to him.
"You know what they say about power," Giles said, letting his hand creep up her leg another couple of inches.
"What's that?"
What was turning into a very nice moment was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. "Okay, I'm done studying for tonight," Buffy announced without preamble. "Willow pronounced me sufficiently smart."
"Really?" Giles asked, his eyebrows raised as Buffy entered the living room.
Buffy frowned at the sight of her mom and her Watcher sitting so close together on the couch, but then decided to ignore it. There were some things it was just better not to look at too closely. "Well, she said we couldn't really do any more because I wasn't focusing," Buffy admitted. "But, hey, that was hours worth of prep right there."
"And patrol?" Joyce asked.
Buffy stared at her. "You asked Spike to take it for me until the SAT is over with," she reminded her mom. "Last night."
"Oh, that's right," Joyce said. "That was just my age talking."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, sweetie," Joyce replied.
The Slayer felt like something was up, but she had no idea what it was. "I'm going to go to bed," she announced, eyeing the two of them. "Good night." Buffy almost added an admonition to be good, but she thought that might be overdoing it.
Come on. It was her mom and her Watcher. That would just be too weird for words.
“'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be?/O wilt thou therefore rise from me?/Why should we rise because 'tis light?/Did we lie down because 'twas night?/Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,/Should in despite of light keep us together…Must business thee from hence remove?/O, that's the worst disease of love./The poor, the foul, the false, love can/Admit, but not the busied man./He which hath business, and makes love, doth do/Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo.” ~John Donne, “Break of Day”
Buffy's sense of wrongness only increased the following day. Not only did Giles not show up for study hall—a sure sign that hell was freezing over—but Mrs. Barton was acting like one of her students.
As weird as it was, though, Buffy wasn't sure she ought to complain. After all, they had managed to get out of study hall early, and no Giles meant no training. And that meant lots of time to hang out with her friends.
Still, it was a Slayer's duty to make sure her Watcher wasn't dead or sick or possessed by an evil demon, so she headed over to Giles' apartment right after Mrs. Barton released them for the day.
Her unease only increased when she found her mom there with him.
“Giles, where were you?” Buffy demanded. “You never pull no-shows. And why is my mom here?”
Joyce waved innocently. “Oh, hello, honey. How was your day?”
“Fine, but—”
“Your mother wanted to discuss your training with me,” Giles explained smoothly. “She's concerned about how you're doing, of course.”
Buffy frowned. It sounded perfectly logical.
Joyce smiled. “I'm just trying to get to know more about your life, sweetie.”
“Right,” Buffy replied. “So you're hanging out with my Watcher?”
“We've been spending time together for a while now,” Giles replied. “Joyce wants to learn more about what the Slayer is and does.”
Buffy nodded slowly. Something was up. She knew something was up.
And then Joyce dangled the car keys in front of Buffy's nose. “Why don't you take the car?” she suggested. “Mr. Giles can drive me home.”
All thoughts of weirdness flew out of Buffy's mind. She was seventeen, after all, and the opportunity to have the car pushed everything else aside. In fact, she was suddenly very much in a hurry to leave, just in case her mom changed her mind. “Okay! Thanks! Have fun!”
Giles and Joyce gave twin sighs of relief as the door closed behind Buffy. “Finally,” Giles muttered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up.
“Do you think she noticed anything?” Joyce asked, tipping a bottle back and taking a few quick swallows.
Giles smirked. “No way.”
~~~~~
Spike twisted around, looking at a passel of businessmen who were acting like monkeys. Or schoolboys just let loose for the summer holidays. All around him, there were adults running amok, acting like—like children.
“And not particularly well-behaved children, at that,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. Amusement was warring with annoyance, and Spike wasn't quite sure what he ought to be doing about the incipient chaos. Something was obviously going on, and things were beginning to get out of hand. People were out wandering the streets after dark, leaving themselves open to attack by enterprising vampires. He stood, undecided, for a few moments before heading towards the Bronze.
In a situation like this, Spike wasn't certain that he needed to interfere, but he figured the Slayer would have more information. If Buffy wasn't at the Bronze, he'd try to find her at home.
The Bronze was packed to the gills with people of all ages. Spike noticed that the majority of the people seemed to be older. The club was usually full of adolescents and college students, not their parents.
Spike spotted Oz coming out from the back. “Oz.”
“Hey, man,” the boy greeted him, his eyes taking in the scene.
“You know what's going on?”
“I'd say they're all acting like teenagers,” Oz observed. “It's quite sobering.”
Spike snorted. “This isn't normal, even for the Hellmouth.”
“Won't argue with you there,” Oz replied, leading the way over to the spot where Willow and Buffy were taking in the sight of the town's adults making out, dancing wildly, and drinking like frat boys.
“This is disturbing,” Willow said. “I don't like this.”
Oz put a comforting hand on her arm. “It's a little mixed up.”
“It's more than a little mixed up,” Buffy commented, looking at Spike. “What about you? You're not feeling the urge to start acting sixteen, are you?”
If Spike could have blushed, he probably would have. As it was, his expression was very sheepish. “Bloody hell, I hope not,” he replied. “I wouldn't be any use at all.”
Buffy gave him a curious look, but Spike refused to meet her eyes. “Let's get out of here. This place is giving me the wiggins.”
They were making their way out when a voice called out behind them, “Hey! Wait for me!”
“Who's that?” Spike asked, glancing behind him to see a short, bald man frantically trying to follow them.
“Principal Snyder,” Willow explained.
Buffy grimaced. “That's probably the creepiest thing I've seen tonight.”
“It explains a lot, though,” Oz observed.
The sound of “Louie, Louie” being tortured followed them out the door, and Spike winced. “Don't think my ears could stand much more of that.”
“Right there with you,” Buffy replied. She took out the keys to her mom's Jeep. “Okay—”
“No.”
The Slayer stared at Spike. “What?”
“You're not driving. Give me the keys.”
“Spike, my mom—”
“Was probably operating under the same stupid spell or whatever it is that the rest of them are under,” Spike replied, holding out his hand for the keys. “If she'd been in her right mind, she wouldn't have let you drive.”
“That's so totally not fair!”
“Why don't we let Spike drive?” Willow chirped. “He's a really good driver.” At Buffy's glare, Willow gulped. “Not that you aren't.”
Buffy scowled but handed the keys to the vampire. “I can so drive.”
“If you can find a car to learn on, I'll take you out driving,” Spike said. “But we're doing it where you can't kill yourself or anyone else.”
Buffy pouted. “Fine.”
“Where are we going?” Spike asked.
“Giles might know what's going on,” Willow said hopefully.
Buffy frowned. “Unless he's sweet sixteen again,” she replied, buckling up.
“Hey! I told you guys to wait up!” Snyder was standing outside the passenger window, glaring at them.
“Sorry, Snyder,” Buffy said sweetly. “No more room in the inn. Beat it.”
Spike took that as his signal to start driving, leaving Snyder in the dust. Oz took up the conversation where they'd left off. “Even if Giles is sixteen again, he's still Giles, right?”
“Not exactly,” Buffy hedged.
“What?” Oz asked.
Buffy sighed. “When Giles was sixteen he was more Rebel Without a Cause.”
“Buffy, he's with your mom,” Willow pointed out.
“Rupert and Joyce are together?” Spike asked, an eyebrow raised.
Buffy glared at him. “Don't say it.”
“Wasn't going to.”
Willow looked from one to the other from her spot in the backseat. “What?”
“Just saying that if you leave two teenagers alone together, things can happen,” Spike said.
Willow's eyes widened. “Things?” she squeaked.
“Don't go there!” Buffy ordered. “You're going to damage me for life.”
Spike frowned and whipped the car around.
“What are you doing?” she demanded impatiently. “We need to get to Giles' place.”
“Giles won't be there,” Spike replied. “Look around, Slayer. Nobody's at home. Everyone's out on the streets.” He pulled over to the side of the street and parked. “Finding your Watcher isn't going to do anyone any good. It looks like every adult in Sunnydale has been affected by this.”
Oz nodded slowly. “Spike's right.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Buffy asked, an edge to her voice. “We can't just sit around.”
“Not saying that we do,” Spike returned. “I'm thinking Red and Oz head to the library, find out what they can, while we try to locate the source.”
“How are you going to do that?” Willow asked. “We don't even know where to start!”
Spike shrugged. “This sort of thing is always the same. You find out what changed in the last few days. There has to be some kind of catalyst.”
They looked out the windows of the car, watching a group of men ogle a couple of passing women. Every single one of them was munching on a chocolate bar.
“The chocolate,” Buffy said in sudden realization. “My mom and Giles!”
“My parents ate a ton of them, too,” Oz said.
Spike frowned. “Not to mention that there are no vampires out. Haven't seen a single one tonight. That's not typical, especially when you've got so many free meals walking around.”
“But where is the chocolate coming from?” Willow asked.
Buffy groaned. “Snyder would know.”
“We'll drop you two off by the school, then find Snyder,” Spike said. He glanced at Buffy. “That sound good to you, Slayer?”
“Fine.”
~~~~~
Buffy was feeling rather relieved that Spike was the one driving by the time they made it back to the Bronze. It was only his quick reflexes that saved them from at least two accidents. Buffy was treated to some of Spike's more colorful curses as he slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a car going through a stop sign.
Luckily, not only was Snyder still at the Bronze, but he knew where the chocolate bars were being manufactured. Spike followed Snyder's directions, pulling up in front of the factory just in time to prevent Giles and Joyce from engaging in indecent exposure. “Mom! Giles!” Buffy hurried over to them and yanked them apart. “Spike, help me!”
Spike decided that laughing would probably be bad form, even though he was highly amused. “Later, mate,” he murmured to Giles, pulling him away slightly. “Wait till the Slayer doesn't have her eye on you, yeah?”
Buffy, hearing Spike's admonition, turned to stare at him. “Spike! Don't encourage them.”
“Don't think they need any encouragement, Slayer,” Spike pointed out.
She glared at him. “Help me keep them separated. We need to get inside and figure out who's behind this.” Buffy turned her evil eye on Giles. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Might be a bit of a rumble,” Spike pointed out.
Giles brightened up at that. “I like a good rumble.”
“Good man,” Spike said, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him inside the factory.
Buffy didn't entirely approve of his tactics, but Spike was getting the job done. Giles seemed to be following him docilely enough. Joyce was whining about being interrupted, and Buffy wondered if that's how she sounded to her mom sometimes.
It was a sobering thought.
Once inside the factory, it didn't take them long to find Ethan Rayne, right in the middle of it all. Buffy wasn't all that surprised. Between the three of them—Buffy, Spike and Giles—they soon managed to corner the magician, leaving Joyce and Snyder waiting at the entrance.
“What's going on, Ethan?” Buffy demanded.
Giles sneered. “Hit him.”
“I've got a better idea,” Spike said, his face shifting.
Ethan's eyes got wide. “Buffy! You wouldn't let me get eaten, would you? You're one of the good guys.”
“Which seems to indicate that I kill the bad guys,” Buffy mused aloud. She sighed. “And Spike does have a tendency to get hungry when he's kept waiting.”
Ethan held up his hands. “This wasn't my idea!” he protested.
“What are you talking about?” Spike demanded, shaking him.
“It's Trick you want!” Ethan said. “He just wanted a distraction so he could make a tribute to a demon.”
Giles glared at him. “He's lying. Hit him!”
“I don't think he is,” Buffy said. “Now be quiet. What demon, Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “I don't remember.”
“Spike? Would you like a snack?” Buffy inquired sweetly.
Spike grinned, showing his teeth. “It would be my pleasure.”
His teeth were mere fractions of an inch from Ethan's throat when the man blurted out, “Lurconis! The demon's name is Lurconis!”
Spike's eyes narrowed. “You sodding bastard.”
Buffy stared at him. “What is it?”
“We need to blow this joint, Slayer,” Spike said. “I know what kind of a tribute this demon demands.”
Buffy turned to Giles. “Can I trust you to take care of Ethan without killing him?”
Giles' chest puffed out. “'Course you can.”
Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother. Okay, Spike, let's split.”
She marched off, but Spike spared a moment to grab Giles by the shirt. “Don't let me find out you got distracted and let this prat go.”
“I can take care of it,” Giles responded indignantly.
Spike cocked an eyebrow, snorted, and then raced off after Buffy.
~~~~~
Spike ambled to the front door to answer the knock. He'd been sleeping for the last twelve hours, which wasn't surprising, given the events of the day before. They'd been running around till nearly dawn, between hunting down Lurconis in the sewers and returning the infants to the maternity ward where they belonged.
Then they'd had to hunt down Giles and Joyce, who'd managed to get distracted after all. By the time Spike and Buffy had found them, Ethan was long gone.
Spike just wished he'd gotten a picture of Buffy's face when they'd found her mom and Watcher. It was obvious to his senses what had been going on—all night, if he wasn't mistaken—but Buffy insisted that she'd found them before they'd actually been able to do anything since they were both still clothed.
Hey, Spike didn't care if the Slayer wanted to live in the land of denial.
Buffy had ordered him to take Giles home and to make sure he stayed there. Spike had acceded to her demand, but had left Giles at his apartment. He figured that since Buffy was with her mom, there really wasn't any more damage that the Watcher could do.
Besides, Spike wanted his shower and his bed, in that order.
Buffy stood framed in the doorway. “Did I wake you up?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I was about ready to get up anyway.” Spike stepped aside to allow her to enter. “What's up, pet?”
“I just thought I'd come see how you were doing,” she replied. “Thanks for taking care of Giles last night.”
“Not a big deal,” Spike replied. He headed towards the kitchen. “Too bad about that prat Rayne getting away, though.”
She sighed. “And somehow I have the feeling we're going to be seeing him again.”
“That wasn't the first time you had to deal with him,” Spike said.
She shook her head. “Last Halloween he came to town and turned everybody into their costumes. It got pretty ugly.”
“I can imagine,” Spike murmured, heating his blood up in the microwave. “So, you need my help with something tonight, or did you just come by for patrol?”
“Neither,” Buffy replied. “I was hoping you could teach me how to drive.”
“Not in my car,” Spike responded automatically.
Buffy pouted. “You promised.”
“Not in my car,” Spike repeated. “What about your mum's vehicle?”
Buffy shrugged. “If you asked, Mom would probably let you teach me. You really will?”
Spike regarded her for a moment, his steady gaze making her fidget a bit. “Thought that was usually the job of the parents.”
“I took the class,” Buffy replied defensively. Then she shrugged. “Mom doesn't have the time, and Dad—” She broke off, unwilling to continue.
Spike sighed. “I'll teach you, but you have to promise to listen to me.”
“I swear,” Buffy said, holding up her right hand in what she thought was the girl scout salute.
Spike snorted. “That's the boy scout salute, luv.” He shook his head. “I'm going to die. Again,” he muttered.
Buffy scowled. “I heard that.”
~~~~~
“Joyce.” Giles stood on her front steps, fidgeting like a boy on his first date.
She blushed, thankful that Buffy had gone to patrol with Spike. “Rupert. It's—how are you feeling?”
“Much more like my usual self, I can assure you,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “How, uh, how are you?”
“Good,” she replied, her voice sounding almost squeaky.
They stared at each other for a long time, their eyes finally meeting. “I hope we're still friends,” Giles blurted out.
“Of course,” she said quickly. “Why don't you come in? I'll make tea.”
Giles followed her inside, closing the door behind him, suddenly filled with new resolve. Even though the events of the previous evening made things awkward between them, Giles had enjoyed himself.
Of course, he didn't really want to break any store windows again. The rest of it had been nice, however. Giles hadn't felt that alive in years.
“Joyce,” he called, once they were in the kitchen. She turned, and he was so close to her that there was no space between them. Giles took his opportunity, pulling her to him, kissing her soundly.
Ripper never really was all that far from the surface.
She pulled back for air, staring at him with such shock that he immediately backed off. “I'm sorry, I—” Joyce pulled his head down for another kiss.
“We don't have to tell Buffy,” she whispered when they came up for air a second time. “She wouldn't understand.”
“I daresay she wouldn't,” Giles replied. Their lips met again. “I do like you, you know.”
“Same here,” Joyce gasped out in between kisses. “We're probably moving too fast.”
Giles didn't let her go. “Do you care?”
“No.”
They necked like the teenagers they weren't in the middle of the kitchen, because sometimes it felt good not to be a grownup.
And sometimes you just needed to feel alive.
" Not easy to state the change you made./If I'm alive now, then I was dead,/Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,/Staying put according to habit./You didn't just tow me an inch, no—/ Nor leave me to set my small bald eye/Skyward again, without hope, of course,/Of apprehending blueness, or stars..." ~Sylvia Plath, "Love Letter"
The way Willow and Xander were standing and looking at each other, anyone would have mistaken them for lovers rather than best friends. In fact, if Cordelia or Oz had spotted them, the game would have been up in an instant. Research parties at the library had turned into exercises in self control that they were failing miserably.
"We have to stop this," Willow whispered.
Xander's thumbs caressed her hands. "I know. You have Oz, and I have Cordelia."
"Exactly," she agreed. "So we can't do this anymore."
"You're right, we can't."
Self control once again failing, Xander's lips caught hers. His kisses were different than Oz's, tasting of forbidden fruit, of desire long denied. That was most of it right there, at least for Willow. It wasn't that she loved Xander more than she loved Oz. It was that she'd wanted Xander for so long, so to have him wanting her back was too much to resist.
She just couldn't help herself.
It just sucked that Xander hadn't figured out that he liked her a long time ago.
"What are you two doing?"
The voice had them both jumping backwards, ramming into the bookshelves on either side of the aisle where they'd been kissing. Spike stood there, a frown on his face, looking suspicious and uncertain.
"Nothing!" Xander said quickly. "Honest!"
Spike looked over at Willow. "Everything alright here, Red?"
"It's fine!" she squeaked. "We were just looking for a book."
The vampire nodded. "Watcher anywhere around here?"
"In his office, I think," Xander said, jerking his head in the general direction of Giles' office. "I take it you heard about the new Watcher showing up."
"What new Watcher?" Spike asked. "Thought Giles was it."
Willow nodded frantically. Her heart was still racing from being caught out, even though Spike didn't seem to know exactly what he'd walked in on. "The Council sent a Watcher for Faith."
Spike gave each of them one more hard look before nodding and striding towards Giles' office.
"That was too close," Willow hissed. "We have to stop this, Xander."
Xander's eyes widened. "I know! I want to stop. We're stopping. Right now. We're done."
"As of now," Willow agreed.
Of course, they both knew that they'd made the same promise a hundred times.
~~~~~
"What's this I hear about a replacement?" Spike asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Giles shot him a dirty look. "She is not a replacement," he shot back. "Dreadful woman," he muttered.
Spike snickered. "I take it you weren't impressed with her."
"She's very—efficient," he admitted grudgingly. Giles turned to face Spike, indignation evident in his face and voice. "She said I was too American!"
Spike couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "You?" he finally managed to gasp.
Giles felt some relief. "I take it you don't agree."
"Rupert, you're an Englishman to the bone." Spike shook his head, still chuckling. "What the bloody hell is her problem?"
Giles sat, waving Spike to take a seat on the small loveseat. "According to the Council, some of my methods are questionable."
"You've got one of the best Slayers I've ever heard of," Spike replied, raising an eyebrow in question. "What are they expecting?"
"I don't know," Giles replied. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that there's a demon named Lagos who appears to be after the Glove of Myhnegon. If it's found, the damage could be extensive."
Spike nodded. "So what's the plan? We find this glove first?"
"Buffy and Faith are looking for it tonight, and will continue to do so until it is found."
"What about this other Watcher? What's she up to?"
"Her name is Gwendolyn Post, and I don't know," Giles replied. "I'm still looking for information on where the glove might be. Xander and Willow were helping me look for references to either Lagos or the glove, but they disappeared into the stacks a while ago and I haven't seen them since."
Spike shifted uncomfortably. This was one of those occasions where he wasn't quite sure what to do, or what human custom called for. He was sure that whatever they had been doing, it wasn't something they ought to have been doing. Spike wasn't sure he should tell anyone, though. While he and Xander got along well enough, he didn't feel particularly inclined to help the boy out. Willow was a different matter altogether. Spike didn't want to see her hurt.
Of course, Oz was his friend too.
"You want me to help look?" Spike asked, wanting to change the subject quickly.
Giles hesitated and then handed him a book. "Certainly. The more dedicated searchers, the more quickly we can get through this ridiculous business."
Spike lifted an eyebrow, but didn't respond. He flipped open the book, beginning to search for material relating to Lagos or the Glove of Myhnegon. They worked in silence, with only the occasional rustling of pages.
Even though Spike was trying to keep his concentration on the text, his mind kept wandering to the sight he'd walked in on earlier and to Buffy.
He'd spent the previous evening trying to teach Buffy to drive—"trying" being the operative word. Spike hated to admit defeat, but the girl was positively hopeless. She was pure grace on the battlefield, but put her behind the wheel of a car and she was completely incompetent.
Not that Spike was planning on giving up. He rarely gave up.
It had been nice, though—spending time in Buffy's company, away from monster-killing, away from life-or-death matters. Although, with Buffy driving, he did feel like he was taking his unlife in his hands.
But she'd been trying. Spike loved how hard she tried.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Spike shoved it to the side. He wasn't interested in that sort of thing. He'd been alone for a long time now, and he'd been perfectly content. Spike had been Love's Bitch, and he wasn't interested in going there again. It had nearly killed him.
Drusilla's betrayal had nearly broken him.
The memories hit him like a flood, and Spike's fists clenched. The sound of his own screams echoed inside of his skull. It was Giles' voice that finally broke through the memories. "What?"
"I've found where the glove is hidden," Giles said, his face lined in concern. "I say, are you quite alright?"
"Fine," Spike replied shortly. "Just—remembering something best forgotten. You want me to go after this glove thing?"
Giles looked relieved. "Would you? I'll let the Post woman know we've found it." The Watcher smiled smugly. "That'll teach her to think I can't do my job."
Spike smirked. "Having me around couldn't hurt, either. You want me to bring it to the library tomorrow?"
"I'll send one of the Slayers to get it," Giles replied. "There's no need for you to be inconvenienced."
Spike shrugged. "Whatever. It's not like I've got all that much going on." He stood. "You give me directions to the glove, and I'll pick it up tonight. You can call me tomorrow and let me know what's going on."
"That sounds fine," Giles replied, scribbling down the directions. Spike turned to leave, but the Watcher's words made him pause. "Are you quite sure you're alright, Spike?"
The vampire took a deep, unnecessary breath. "As alright as anyone in my shoes can be, Rupert."
With that rather cryptic response, Spike slipped out the door, leaving Giles to stare after him, his curiosity peaked.
~~~~~
Spike retrieved the glove without any trouble. Lagos was nowhere to be seen, nor were the Slayers around. It didn't hurt his feelings to have something go right for once, though. As late as it was, Spike took a moment to call Giles to let him know that he'd found it. Then he stashed it in the lock box he kept under his bed and read until he was ready to sleep.
The reminder of Drusilla had awoken his nightmares again, and Spike didn't rest well that night. She and Angelus had been masters of torture, both mental and physical, and while Spike would have liked to forget, there were times when it was impossible.
After the second time he woke gasping, having dreamt of one particularly brutal session, Spike gave up on sleep. He rose and showered, standing under the spray, letting it pound his flesh soothingly.
Once, his wrists had been permanently raw from the manacles they'd used. Once, his best days had been when they had forgotten about him. Spike clenched his fists, remembering when they'd gone off on a killing spree for an entire week and left him alone.
He hadn't known whether to be relieved or angry, because he'd had nothing to eat for all that time. Angelus had made certain that he didn't even have access to rats.
With an impatient twist, Spike shut the water off. This was ridiculous. It was over. His tormentors were dead.
They had not broken him, so what did it matter if he still bore the scars?
Spike knew he needed something to distract him, someone to talk to. He also needed to figure out how he was going to deal with Willow and Xander's situation. There was a part of him that wanted to forget about it, but he couldn't.
A sudden burst of rage had him throwing his empty mug at the wall, watching it shatter. It gave him less relief than he'd hoped.
"Bugger," he muttered, staring at the mess, knowing he would now have to clean it up.
The ringing of the doorbell distracted him, and he went to the door, surprised to see Faith on the other side. "What can I do for you?"
Faith's knowing grin told Spike that she was thinking in double entendres again. "Right now? You can hand over the glove-thing. Giles said you had it, and my Watcher sent me to pick it up."
Spike hesitated, then stepped aside to let her enter. "Let me grab it for you."
Faith stayed in the living room, calling after him, "Pretty nice place you got here."
"It's not bad," he replied. "You still at that hotel?"
"Different room, but yeah." She ran her hand along the soft leather of the sofa. "It's Spartan."
Spike frowned slightly, wondering where Faith had picked up that term. The way she said it led him to think that she was proud of it, proud that she didn't need what anyone else had deemed important. At the same time, he'd heard a longing in her voice when she'd complimented him.
If Faith hadn't had a Watcher, Spike might have offered her a place to stay, but he figured it was another one of those things that wasn't any of his business. "Here you go," he said, handing over the glove, wrapped up in rags. He watched as Faith parted the cloth slightly to get a better look. "Careful," he warned. "You touch it, and the only way it comes off is when you die."
"Wicked," she murmured.
Spike knew the look in her eyes. It came from having been powerless, and then becoming strong again. It was probably the same look he'd had back when he'd a newly risen vampire. There was a piece of him that wanted to offer her something, some lifeline that she could hold on to.
He remained silent, however, since it didn't appear as though she needed anything from him. Faith had her Watcher, and he'd been asked to help Buffy. Spike didn't owe her anything.
"I gotta get this to Mrs. Post," Faith finally said, pushing the rags back into place and tucking it under her arm. "Thanks."
"No problem," he replied. "You need my help with Lagos, just call."
"Will do," Faith replied, pausing at the door. "You're okay, you know. For a vampire."
Spike smirked. "You're okay for a Slayer."
She grinned at him. "Just as long as we understand each other."
When she was gone, Spike turned back to his kitchen. He still had a mess to clean up.
And he had a visit to make.
~~~~~
The appearance of Lagos had Buffy completely forgetting that Willow had been trying to tell her something. The redhead had stammered and gone around in circles for so long that nothing had been shared before the demon showed up. By the time Buffy had killed the demon, she'd been intent on getting back to Giles. She had the feeling that he'd want to gloat about her success to the Post lady.
Evil bitch.
Buffy certainly didn't envy Faith her new Watcher. That woman would have done better to stay in England. What Buffy hadn't expected to find were the paramedics carrying Giles out on a stretcher. "Giles!"
"Out of our way, miss," one of them warned her.
Buffy ran alongside him. "Giles? What happened?"
"Living Fire," he muttered. "Use..."
There was no time to ask him what he meant by that, even if he'd been coherent enough to tell them what he'd meant. Buffy looked over at Xander. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," he replied. "I came to see if Giles needed help with the research again, and he was laid out on the floor."
"What about Mrs. Post or Faith?" Buffy demanded. "Have you seen either of them tonight?"
Xander shook his head. "No, not at all. I don't know where they are."
Buffy wasn't sure what to do. Her only option seemed to be finding the other Watcher, who might know what they were supposed to do with the glove anyway. "You guys go see what you can find out about this Living Fire that Giles was talking about," she said. "I need to find Faith or Mrs. Post."
She ran to Faith's motel room first, but there was no answer when she pounded on the door. Buffy found a pay phone and quickly dialed Spike's number. "Spike."
"What's up, Slayer?" he asked.
Buffy quickly told him about Giles. "Have you seen Faith tonight?"
"She came by to get the glove earlier," he replied. "Told me her Watcher had sent her."
Buffy bit back a curse. "Did she say where she was taking it?"
"No. Buffy, do you want me to come pick you up? I can—"
"No, that's okay. I don't think you can help me on this one, Spike, not unless you know who knocked Giles out, or who might be after that glove other than the demon I just killed."
"Sorry, pet. Dunno."
"I'll talk to you later," she said, hanging up. Buffy decided to head back to the school, thinking that at least Willow and Xander might have found out something about the Living Fire.
She'd just gotten to the front of the school when she saw Faith running. "Buffy!"
"Faith! What's going on?"
"Mrs. Post was after the glove," Faith gasped. There was a trickle of blood down one cheek where something had grazed her. "She's got it."
Buffy's eyes widened. "She's wearing it?"
"Yeah, and she's heading this way," Faith replied. "I think she wants us out of the way. She said something about not letting us destroy it."
Buffy grabbed the other Slayer's arm and hustled her into the school. "Willow and Xander are working on it, I think. If that's what Giles meant about the fire stuff, anyway."
They raced through the halls to the library, and when they burst through the doors, Willow and Xander both jumped, startled. "What's up?" Willow asked.
"Mrs. Post is the bad guy," Buffy quickly explained. "Do you know—"
"I know how to destroy the glove, Buffy," Willow quickly replied, cutting her off. "But we've got to get it off her hand first. And for that—"
"We have to kill her," Faith supplied. "That's what Spike said."
Buffy turned towards the weapons cage. "We've got—"
She was interrupted by the sound of the library doors bursting open, Gwendolyn Post standing there with the glove on. "Faith, how nice of you to lead me right to the only other person who might have stopped me. So convenient to only have to make one stop." She pointed at Buffy. " Tauo freim !"
Buffy dove out of the way just in time. The bolt of electricity struck the spot where she'd been standing. "Faith! Get weapons!"
"I'm trying!" the other Slayer shouted, rolling as the rogue Watcher tried to hit her. Faith rolled towards Buffy, hissing, "I'll draw her fire." Faith was on her feet and running, with Xander and Willow ducking for cover behind the big library desk.
With Mrs. Post's attention on Faith, Buffy headed for the cage, frantically searching for a weapon she could throw. She knew that there was no way she'd get close enough to use a short-range weapon.
"B! Look out!"
Buffy dropped to the floor, the bolt striking just above her head. She glanced over, spotting a throwing ax that had fallen to the floor. "It's about time," she muttered, then braced herself, knowing that she'd only get one change.
She surged to her feet, throwing the ax immediately. Faith had just come out from behind one of the bookshelves, causing Mrs. Post to turn towards her, and presenting her profile to Buffy.
Buffy had thrown the ax in a precise arc, slicing through the rogue Watcher's arm just above where the glove stopped. Gwendolyn Post screamed, and the energy from the glove became erratic. Both Slayers ran for cover, hearing the Watcher's screams as the energy burned her up from the inside.
When silence had fallen, they all came out from hiding, staring at the blackened spot on the floor where the glove lay. "So, Willow," Buffy said rather breathlessly. "You said you can destroy it?"
"Yeah," Willow nearly squeaked. "I'll get on that right away."
Buffy and Faith's eyes met. "You okay?" Buffy asked.
"Five by five," Faith replied, her dark eyes unreadable.
Buffy wanted to say something, to tell Faith that it hadn't been her fault for not knowing, that they'd all been fooled. She didn't know how to say the words without sounding condescending, however, and so she just nodded. "Good."
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