“Yes we know. He was cursed with a soul.” Giles nodded.

“Well, yeah,” Spike said quietly, but clearly enough for each of them to hear. “We all were.”

“What? Are you saying that you were also cursed with a soul?” Giles questioned Spike, his tone a mixture of shock and incredulity.

“Gypsy’s didn’t stop at Angelus, Watcher. Dru, Darla, and I also got souls.” Spike answered the Watcher, ignoring the gasps and exclamations coming from the Scoobies. “Course, we got our own souls, and they’re not curses. Not anymore at least.”

Based on the group’s reaction to the news that Angelus wasn’t the only one cursed with a soul, Spike expected more gasping explanations to his last statement. What he got however, was silence. Absolute silence. Which made him wonder if they had actually stopped breathing. Unsurprisingly, it was the Watcher that recovered first, asking for an explanation while the Scoobies stared in frozen shock and horror and the Slayer gazed unseeingly forwards shaking her head slightly.

“Yeah, Watcher, okay then. I’m guessing the Poof didn’t exactly fill you lot in, not that I’m surprised.” Spike wondered what exactly Angelus actually had told these people, and what had happened to them all as a result of what he had undoubtedly left out. “The Gypsies wanted vengeance, yeah? Revenge for the loss of their favorite daughter and all that rot, so they cursed us all with souls, rest of us were like… collateral damage… his family, you know? The idea behind the souls was to cause pain and suffering, guilt and horror for all the things we’d done. Problem was, for Angelus, his soul from when he was human wouldn’t have fit the bill. Didn’t know him as a human myself obviously, but Darla says he was a drunken laze-about. Caused trouble, spent all his family’s money on drink and whores, and had a thing for the young virgin girls, willing or not. Gypsies didn’t think giving him his human soul would do much good, thought the soul and demon would get along a little too well, so they cursed him with another soul.”

“Whose?” Willow asked timidly. She didn’t think she really wanted to know, considering she was responsible for cursing him with that soul for a second time, but at the same time, she had to know. She had to know what they… what she, had done.

“His victim’s, the young Gypsy potential,” Spike quietly answered the young, redhead witch, watching as silent tears fell in rivers down her checks as he confirmed her worst fear. Spike cursed his wanker of a grandsire in his head, not yet sure what had happened to these people because of the bastard, but knowing it surely wasn’t good.

“And the rest of you?” Giles asked coldly, a hint of exhaustion coloring his question.

“We got our own souls, from before we were turned. Dru had been headed for a convent. I’d been a gentleman from a wealthy family, basically a pathetic mama’s boy concerned only with poetry and literature. Darla, she’d been a whore of course, not exactly the epitome of virtue but she came from a family with no money and was left on her own, not a lot of other options in those days for women. Didn’t make her a bad person really, just circumstances.”

“I believe you said that your soul is no longer a curse? How is that?” Inside, Giles was reeling from the information he was hearing, though he allowed none of it to show on his face. He wondered what else they would learn about Angel’s apparent deceit, as it was becoming quite clear that there had been deceit. He was fearful of the effect this story would have on the children he cared for, particularly his Slayer who still believed herself in love with Angel. As he pictured Jenny in his mind, he had to admit, he was likewise fearful of what this would do to him.

“Got it anchored of course. Dru and Darla’s too.” Spike responded evenly. “As for how, gotta tell you about what happened after we were all cursed.”

Spike waited for some affirmative sign to continue, which came in the form of the Slayer’s almost nonexistent head nod while she continued to stare blindly at the wall behind him. “Right, so, it was chaos after we were cursed. The pain was unbelievable, even for me. But I managed to get Dru, Darla, and myself to shelter. Soul didn’t seem to change me much except for making me feel guilt, but it didn’t really change who I was or anything. Of course, being turned didn’t really change me that much either, was Darla, Dru, and Angelus who made me the vamp I was. Anyway, wasn’t the same for the girls. Don’t know if it was because I hadn’t been a vamp as long, that I hadn’t changed much or that I was so used to taken care of Dru, but I managed to keep my wits about me a fair bit more than the girls. Not sure where Angelus was, he wasn’t with us when we were cursed. Felt him near a few days later, but Dru got hysterical when she felt him, and then he was gone.” Hysterical was an understatement of Dru’s condition she’d felt Angelus. She’d lost it, screaming and thrashing about, petrified he was coming back to hurt her more. It had terrified him.

“I did my best though, kept them from meeting the sunrise, got animals and such for blood after a while. Tried to take care of them, help them.” He let out a deep sigh, remembering those first few months when the three of them had stayed camped out in a deep cave in the woods. “After a few months, Dru started nattering on about how she needed to leave, had to go to her brothers. Had no idea what she meant, Angelus had killed everyone she ever knew. Getting her soul back only made her madness worse at the time, as broken as she was. We followed her when she insisted on going though, stayed together. Ended up in what’s now the Czech Republic. Dru led us to a monastery, had a group of monks there called the Order of Dagon. They took us in, to my surprise. Somehow they knew what we were and seemed to know what had happened, it was almost like they had been waiting for us. Course it was Dru leading us there, so I figure they probably did.”

Most of the Slayer’s group was listening to him with expressions of interest and curiosity, though their eyes showed that their minds were busy trying to process what he had told them so far. He wondered how much they were still really hearing at this point, knowing he’d soon have to stop for the day if he wanted them to absorb and understand what was to come. He hadn’t even gotten close to the important part yet.

Anya, unlike the others, seemed mildly bored and he wondered, as an 1100 year old ex-vengeance demon, how much of his story she already knew. Even if she knew it all, he doubted that she had purposely kept it from the others. More likely, they just didn’t ask what she knew and didn’t listen to her when she offered.

“Being with the monks helped us all, ‘specially Dru, cope with our newly returned souls. Darla left us after about a year. She needed a place, a home, and living with the monks wasn’t it for her. She travelled a bit, trying to figure out a place for herself. Finally ended up settling down in France, Paris to be exact, and she’s been there ever since. Flourished, she has. She kept in touch, still does, see her every couple of years. She’s done quite well for herself actually,” Spike informed them with a chuckle. “Went back to her roots she did, working girl through and through. Took a while, but she ended up a Madame, runs her own brothel of sorts. Real exclusive place… demons and humans both.”

“Now, before you get your knickers in a twist, Slayer,” Spike was quick to add when he saw the look of shock and disgust on Buffy’s face, “Darla’s place is safe as houses. No killing, maiming, or bloodshed under her roof. Not for the customers or Darla’s girls. Anyone who does, client or employee, gets thrown out on the street if they’re human and killed if they’re not. Place is actually renowned for its safety along with its service. Bet your Watcher here has even heard of it, La Maîtresse des Âmes?” Spike smirked as he watched a blush rise on the Watcher’s face.

“Yes, well, I am familiar with it… not first hand of, of course,” Giles spluttered. “I was, uh, not aware that, the uh, p-place was run by a vampire… or that it, um, catered to demons at all really.”

“Yeah, well Darla keeps a low profile… in that respect. No violence, no deaths, no attention.” Spike explained.

“So that’s what happened to Darla. Me and Dru though, whole other story. After the curse, Dru’s state of mind got really bad. Her soul and her head were just so fractured. She was terrified all the time, scared of Angelus coming after her again. Being with the monks helped her, but it wasn’t ‘til a while after Darla left that she started getting any better. She started having moments, just a few seconds at first, where she was sort of lucid and you could see the pious girl she once was, talk to her a bit. It was nice, for me anyway, cause I missed her. She was my sire, my everything really, and I loved her. Course things were different between us after the souls. Even with the fragility of her mind, she was an innocent again, yeah? Oh, she still remembered all the things Angelus had done, everything she’d done, but she was different and so were things between us. Not sure I could’ve gone back to the way we were either, least ways not then, but it’s worked out. She’s still my family and I still love her, just not the same way.” Spike wanted to make sure that this group he had come to for help, understood how important family was to him.

“Let me be right clear about one thing… Dru is my family, as is everyone in my home including Glinda here. Anyone goes after them, hurts them in any way and I will kill them. Soul won’t stop me.” His voice had hardened into a deadly tone, ensuring each person there knew that Spike would do anything to protect the ones he loved.

“I’m only telling you lot about Dru, about me and her, so you understand if or when you meet her. It’s been a long time, but her mind is still… what he did to her… some things even time can’t fix, yeah? She’s still a bit childlike and talks in riddles a lot of the time, lives in a world of her own, she does. Just want you lot to be a bit prepared, don’t want you to freak.”

“Well, yes, Spike. Thank you for informing us of Drusilla’s, uh, state. We will endeavor to treat her accordingly.” Giles attempted to reassure the vampire whose home they were all sitting in, in a typically formal British fashion. “Perhaps, however, it would be best to move on for now and return to how you were able to remove the curses on your souls?”

“Course, Watcher.” Spike agreed. “As I was saying, Dru started getting a bit better at the monastery, she felt safe there I think, or as safe as she could feel. One night, after we’d been there for a couple of years, she started talking about her soul. We were outside looking at the stars, she likes that, says they talk to her. So, she asked me if her soul would stay with her this time. Said the stars told her they could take it away, and she was right scared, didn’t want to lose it.”

“I did my best to reassure her, but it got me thinking. We weren’t given our souls, we were cursed with them. As I’m sure demon-girl here can tell you, thing about curses is there’s always a way to break them, yeah? Curses are meant to be a bad thing, the souls put an end to our evil ways sure, but the purpose was to make us suffer. Figured that meant there was a way to break the curse and lose the souls.” Spike couldn’t help but notice the pained silence that settled over the Scoobies at this. He wondered again what had happened to them. He was telling them all about his history and he figured soon it would be time to hear about theirs.

“Knew the only way to find out about the curse was from the Gypsies, so I set off to find them. I left Dru alone with the monks for the first time, though she’d stay with them as I went away other times over the years. Took me months to track the right Gypsy clan down, and it wasn’t easy to get them to talk to me once I had. Eventually they listened to me though.”

Spike started to chuckle, low and rumbley, at the memory of turning up at the Gypsy camp asking for help. “Let me tell you, they were right shocked when I told them why I was there. Once I convinced them I really was looking for help making sure me and Dru’s souls weren’t gonna take a runner, and not trying to figure out how to break the curse, they helped me.”

Spike wasn’t sure how much to tell them next, the spell used to bind their souls wasn’t complicated. After a moment, he decided that he’d cut to the chase, as the Watcher and maybe the witch were the only two with more interest and he could tell them more about it later. “They worked out a sort of binding spell for me, one that would override the curse. Mix a few herbs, draw a little blood, chant for a bit and goodbye curse, hello permanent soul. Did the ritual bit there with them, made sure it was safe and wasn’t gonna make my head explode or something, then headed back to Dru. She was really happy to bind her soul, make sure it couldn’t leave her again, helped settle her mind a bit more.”

Giles listened to Spike, an awful feeling of dread forming in his chest. He thought he knew where this story was headed, and feared if he was correct, the effect it would have on all of them. He turned his head to try and look discretely at his Slayer and her friends. Seeing the looks of shock and anxiety on their faces, he knew he wasn’t the only one worried about what Spike would tell them next.

Turning back to look at Spike again, Giles noted that he seemed to be giving them a moment to process what they had heard, or perhaps to prepare for what they would hear next. Knowing that the vampire was waiting for a signal to continue, he took a deep breath and asked what everyone was wondering but no one seemed to really want to know.

“And this spell, after you had Dru’s soul bound, what did you do with the information?”

“I did exactly what you think I did, Watcher,” Spike said with no small amount of regret. Given the reactions he’d gotten from the Slayer’s group so far, and the looks on their faces now, it wasn’t hard to put together that something had happened with Angelus while he was in town. Spike couldn’t be sure what it was, but he had a gut feeling and his gut was rarely, if ever, wrong. “I left Dru with the monk’s again not long after, and headed for Paris. Knew Darla was about there somewhere and it was easy enough to track her down. She may not be the most scrupulous person I’ve ever known, but when I told her about the curse and the spell she wanted her soul bound.” Spike remembered being surprised that Darla’s first reaction to his news that the curse could be broken was to ask how to bind her soul and not how to get rid of it. She’d found a way to deal with the guilt and had some big plans for her unlife in the city of love, plans that didn’t involve killing everyone in her path. She’d made good on those plans and Spike could honestly say he was right proud of his great-grandsire.

Tara had sat quietly through Spike’s tale. Knowing his story nearly as well as he did, she had spent the time watching their guests rather than listening. She knew what was coming next, and based on what she had seen on these people’s faces and in their auras, she was certain the coming revelations would not be well received. A quick glance at Spike, and she knew that he had picked up on it as well. Tara rose from her seat and poured Spike another drink. She settled on the arm of his chair after handing him the glass, a hand resting gently on his shoulder in a sign of support. Spike, aware of Tara’s subtle repositioning and gentle support, threw the young witch a grateful look.

“What did you do next, Spike?” Giles asked resignedly, after several minutes of continued silence from the vampire.

Spike looked at the Slayer as he answered the Watchers question. He could see from the rigidness of her body and the blank look in her eyes, that the girl was close to breaking down. He only hoped he wouldn’t find himself on the wrong side of her powerful fists or pointy sticks if she did. “I tracked down Angelus.”

“And did you find him?”

“Yes,” Spike answered simply. “It took a while, but I tracked him to an area near Krakow, in what’s now Poland. He was staying in an unused barn, hunting animals in the woods to survive. I told him what I had found out about the curse and gave him what he needed to bind his soul.” Spike figured direct and succinct was the way to go. Angelus’ soul was obviously a sore spot for this group, though he couldn’t yet say why, and he saw no reason to sugarcoat the information for them.

“So, you are telling us, that several years after he was cursed, you told Angel about the curse, including what would break it, and gave him everything he would need in order to remove the curse and permanently bind his soul?” Giles asked with barely restrained anger, furiously wiping glasses.

“Yes...”

Anything further Spike was going to say, was forestalled by Buffy launching herself off of the couch. Without looking at anyone the Slayer ran for the front door, leaving it hanging open in her haste to escape. The rest of the Scoobies seemed frozen in place staring after her and Spike decided to take pity on them. Nothing more could really be accomplished without the Slayer anyway.

“I’m guessing now might be a good time to call it a day, Watcher. Doesn’t look like you lot can take in much more, and, well…” Spike trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the open front door.

“Yes, quite right,” Giles replied distractedly.

“Come back tomorrow, same time, and we’ll get on with this. Lots more to tell you, haven’t even gotten to the reason we’re here yet,” Spike said as he stood. He walked the still stunned group to the door, closing it gratefully behind them. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he decided to come to the Slayer, but today sure as hell wasn’t it. Spike sighed deeply as he rubbed his hands tiredly over his face. This was going to be a lot more bloody difficult than he had hoped.

TBC...

Tara watched Spike from the stairs, worried. He had been sitting in the same chair since the Slayer’s friends had left several hours ago. The conversation this afternoon had not gone how either of them had expected, and Tara knew that the groups’ reaction to Spikes story was causing him additional stress. Stress he could ill afford.



“It’s not your fault, you know,” Tara said as she walked into the darkened living room. She sat on the coffee table across from Spike with her hands in her lap.



“What’s not my fault, pet?”



“Any of it.”



“Yeah, know that don’t I?” Spike chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Nothing that wanker does is my fault. Should’ve seen this coming though, ducks. Knew he’d been here with the Slayer, should’ve expected his presence wouldn’t have been all rainbows and bloody puppies.” Spike let his head fall back against the chair, his eyes falling closed. He was tired, so bloody tired.



Tara smiled but said nothing. She knew Spike well, and her years with him had taught her that sometimes he just needed to rant a bit, get the words floating around his head out.



“Know we need them, need to be here, but do we really?” Spike didn’t wait for an answer, not expecting one. “Whatever we’re up against, I could handle it, right? Done it so far.” Spike sighed as he sat forward, head down and his forearms resting on his knees.



“Spike…”



“I know, I know. Words on a paper and all that rot. Just wish we hadn’t come here, wish I didn’t have to bring you lot here, you know that right?” Spike looked up to see Tara nod, her lovely blue eyes filled with understanding. “What I really wish though, was that Peaches hadn’t of been here first. Wanker makes everything harder than it has to be, guess he hasn’t changed.”



“We’ll find a way, Spike, we always do.” Tara tried to reassure him.



“That we will, Glinda, that we will,” Spike replied as he stood, stretching his muscles. “I’m gonna head out, see if I can’t find some nasty to beat information out of. You gonna be okay here for a while?”



“Sure, Spike, we’ll be fine,” said Tara. “You go.”



**************************



On the other side of town, a small group of tired fighters sat in Giles’ living room.



“Maybe it’s not true?” Willow asked, breaking the silent contemplation. She was grasping at straws, desperately hoping that Spike had been wrong. She’d always thought that she had done a good thing, re-ensouling Angel. But now she was seeing her actions in a possible new light, one where she hadn’t brought back a heroic fighter for good by gifting him with his soul, but had rather performed a dark curse that punished not only a dangerous monster but also his innocent victim. His young girl, potential Slayer, victim.



“Yeah,” Xander jumped in. “This Spike guy’s just some vampire, evil undead bloodsucker. We’re just supposed to believe anything he says? Yeah, right! And what about all that stuff he made up about Riley! Riley’s a good guy, he’d never do that! We can’t believe anything he says!”



“Xander, do shut up,” Giles ordered in exasperation. “We all saw the marks on Riley’s arms. There is no way he obtained those bites while patrolling or any other way, and lived. The only explanation is that Spike was indeed correct and Riley has been visiting the vampire bite shops.” Giles continued to wipe his glasses as he stared at Xander. He certainly hoped that Riley headed his Slayer’s warning to get out of town, because if he ever saw the idiot again he would not be held accountable for his actions. “As for the rest of it, until we are able to research further, I believe we would be remiss not to believe he is being forthright.”



“He is,” Anya stated bluntly, not bothering to look up from the magazine she was flipping through. “It’s a well known story, at least among vengeance demons. Everyone was quite impressed, wish I’d been there.” After several moments of silence, Anya glanced up to see everyone starring at her, mouths gapping. “What?”



“Anya,” Giles began, “are you saying that you know of what Spike was telling us?” At her nod, he continued, “why did you not tell us this before?” Giles bristled, clearly angry with her, although Anya wasn’t sure why.



“I assumed you knew. Angelus was here for several years, and even if he didn’t tell you, it is written about extensively in several books.” Giles anger shrank a bit under Anya’s implication. “Besides, you all treat me like I’m an idiot, just because I like to talk about money and sex. You wouldn’t have listened.”



Giles could only stare at Anya. He couldn’t believe that they, that he, had been so foolish as to overlook what was obviously such a valuable resource right in front of them. Anya, though she appeared as young as the other children and was superficially focused on money among other things, was in fact older than all of them combined. She had lived over 1100 years as a demon and undoubtedly had vast knowledge of the demon world they had never bothered to ask her about. Giles felt his headache grow at his own, rather blatant, shortsightedness.



Before he could gather his wits to respond to Anya however, a loud sob pulled his attention to Willow, who seemed to be falling apart on his couch. She had tears streaming down her face and was struggling to pull in breaths as Oz rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. When he was able to hear what the young woman was saying over and over again however, he couldn’t help but find himself silently agreeing with her.



“What have I done… What have I done… What have I done…”



************************



Buffy struggled to keep her mind blank as she made her way to Giles’ apartment later that night. She had been aimlessly wandering the streets, alleys, parks, and cemeteries of Sunnydale since running from Spikes house earlier that day. When the sun had sunk below the horizon, she had taken her frustrations out on any denizen of the night that had crossed her path.



It was late by the time she reached her Watcher’s door, but she knew that Giles would not have gone to bed yet. She wasn’t wrong.



Giles opened the door, stepping aside once he saw that it was his Slayer. Buffy looked disheveled and… haunted.



“Buffy,” Giles began.



“Don’t, Giles. Just, don’t.”



Giles sighed, making his way to the couch were he sat watching his Slayer pace the room. He feared how the information they had received today would affect her, and seeing her now, filled with barely restrained tension, he almost felt sorry for any creature that had or would face her tonight.



“I saw Riley earlier tonight,” Buffy said, having stopped to stare blankly out the living room window. Giles felt his eyebrow raise and his mouth purse, but wisely chose to wait and see where she was going with that statement.



“At first, I just wanted to run up to him and just yell at him for still being around, you know? But he was all angry and stompy, and I just… so I followed him. Something told me to see where he was going.” Buffy closed her eyes for a moment. “He went to this house over on Elmwood, went in and I just… watched the place…”



She turned suddenly and pinned Giles with a hard look. “Did you know?” At the questioning look on Giles face, she clarified. “Those, those places, did you know about them?”



“In theory, yes,” Giles answered slowly, carefully. “Did I know there were any such establishments here in Sunnydale? No, Buffy, I did not.”



Buffy nodded her head, seemingly accepting of his answer and turned back to the window. “It’s gone, burned.” Buffy said coldly. “He’s gone too, something about a helicopter.”



It seemed that Buffy had said all she was going to on the matter, and Giles decided to let it rest for the night. He watched his Slayer, her arms wrapped around her chest, wondering what else, if anything, she would say to him.



“Do you believe him?” Buffy asked so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. He didn’t need to ask her whom she meant.



“Anya says he is telling the truth.”



“Huh? Anya?” Buffy asked, her face turning to him, scrunched up in confusion.



Giles smiled slightly as he removed his glasses, unsurprised at Buffy’s reaction. His own had been similarly unbelieving.



“Yes. It appears we have been quite thoughtless where Anya is concerned. Why it never occurred to me that an 1100 year old ex-demon would have valuable information, I will never know.” Giles shook his head. “She was however, able to confirm the generalities of what Spike told us, having heard of the incident herself when it happened. So, yes, unless proven otherwise, I believe him.”



Buffy was quiet for a few moments. Her own mind touching on the ridiculousness of assuming Anya knew about nothing other than money and orgasms.



“Okay,” Buffy said. “I’m gonna go now, do another sweep before I head home. See you tomorrow Giles.”



“Yes, see you tomorrow my dear.” Giles watched a distraught Buffy leave his apartment and walk off into the night.



************************



Spike heard the sounds of fighting long before he saw them. Under normal circumstances he would have been mad, jealous even, to come in at the end of what was obviously a knock-down, drag-out battle. Hell, normally he would have just jumped in to get a piece himself while the getting was still good. He’d been looking for a good row, someone or something to pound his frustrations out on, but the night had been frustratingly uncooperative.



Tonight however, he found himself content to just watch. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to watch a Slayer at work. He’d mostly avoided them over the years. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to fight them, on the contrary, he would love nothing more than a fists-and-fangs beat-down with a warrior he could consider an equal. But that was all he would want, a fight, while they would be trying to kill him. And he’d never been particularly suicidal. So, he’d made it a point to stay away from wherever the active Slayer was said to be if it could be helped.



Spike leaned against a headstone and pulled out a cigarette. He thought the Slayer knew he was there, had seen a moment where her body had tensed in awareness before she had returned all of her focus on the Fyarl demon she was currently beating to a pulp.



She was amazing. Fluid and deadly, like bloody poetry in motion. Spike gave a chuckle at his bad pun and felt himself smile at the possibility that this was a Slayer he would get the opportunity to fight. He just knew fighting her would be unlike anything he had ever faced. Without thought, Spike found himself adjusting his pants as his cock hardened at the idea.



The Slayer threw a vicious snap kick at the Fyarl’s knee, forcing it to the ground before catapulting onto its back and snapping the things neck with an audible, sickening crunch. The battle ended at her whim.



Spike slowly inhaled from his cigarette, watching her still crouched form, chest heaving from the fight. She had yet to look at him.



After a few more silent moments, Buffy stood slowly and turned in Spikes direction. She headed for a headstone across from where he leaned, still not acknowledging him.



“What happened here?” Spike asked.



Buffy’s head snapped up, green eyes meeting blue. “I beat the shit out of a Fyarl demon,” she snarked.



Spike couldn’t help it, he chuckled.



“Saw that part, Slayer, right good show it was too.” Spike pinned her with an intense look. “But that’s not what I meant and you know it.”



Buffy shrugged and looked away. She knew what he meant, of course. He wanted to know what happened with Angel, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him. Actually, she was pretty sure that she definitely didn’t want to tell him. But he had been right about Riley… and Anya, who was apparently a really reliable source of information, said he had been telling them the truth.



Buffy studied Spike while he lit yet another cigarette. He was dressed in all black from his tight t-shirt and jeans to his boots. A well worn leather duster, black of course, hung from his frame like a second skin. She looked at his face for what felt like the first time, and found she liked what she saw. Defined jaw line, full lips, razor sharp cheekbones, deep blue eyes and eyelashes she would kill for. All of it topped off by slicked back, bleach blonde hair that practically glowed in the moonlight. He was probably a few decades out of style, but she couldn’t say that it didn’t work for him.



Hoping she was making the right decision, or at least one that wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass, she decided to tell him the truth. The very short, very abridged version maybe. Quid pro quo, or something, right?



“I came to Sunnydale when I was 16, met Angel a few nights later. The PTB’s had sent him here to help me. We started dating and fell in love. One thing led to another…” Buffy trailed off, not sure what to say exactly.



“And you shagged?” Spike offered.



“Yeah. I mean, I think so. That’s like British for, um, sex, right?” Buffy asked, her face scrunched up in uncertainty and embarrassment. Spike nodded. “Yeah, so we, um, shagged, perfect moment of happiness and he lost his soul.” Buffy paused, pained at the memory, failing to notice the way Spike’s eyes widened and his arm froze halfway to his mouth. “Angelus messed with us, killed Willow’s fish, killed Giles’ girlfriend Jenny and tortured Giles. He tried to wake Acathla, Willow put his soul back in and I sent him to Hell to stop Acathla from opening. He came back a few months later. Things didn’t, um, they didn’t work out. He left last Spring, said it was too hard to be around me…” Buffy trailed off again. Telling this story was never her favorite thing, but if what she had found out today was true, there was a whole new level of badness involved. The badness of Angel knowing all about his curse and what could happen. And, even though she kind of hated herself for thinking it, the badness of knowing that he might have known how to bind his soul and he still chose to leave her.



So caught up in the direction of her own thoughts, it took her a while to notice that Spike was still silently starring at her, his face and body frozen in shock.



“What?” Buffy asked.



“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing, Slayer,” Spike squeaked, cringing at the cracking and high pitched sound. Smooth, he thought, real smooth.



“That’s not nothing face, that’s something face.” Buffy pressed. “Look, whatever it is, just spit it out. Why not add to the badness, huh? Hey, maybe my head will just explode and some new Slayer can just deal with it all?”



Spike couldn’t help a tiny grin at the Slayer’s attempt to lighten the mood. “What do you know about how the curse is broken, Slayer?”



“Moment of pure happiness,” Buffy shrugged.



“It’s a little more complicated than that.” When Buffy just stared at him, he looked away. “Curse is a curse, yeah? It’s a punishment on the demon, not a bloody gift. All curses can be broken, and that’s usually a good thing. The Gypsy’s didn’t want that though, didn’t want the punishment to end, so they came up with a loophole that would be damn near impossible to beat.” Spike let out a suffering sigh, and cursed the Powers for having to be the one to explain this to the girl. Deciding on a different tactic, he asked Buffy, “moment of pure happiness? What’d you lot, uh, think that meant?”



“Well,” Buffy blushed, “you know, we um, made with the shagging, and he loved me and I loved him, so when he, um, you know… moment of pure happiness.” Buffy finished lamely. Articulate, thy name is not Buffy. For some reason, talking about this with the peroxide vampire was making her feel like a naive little girl. It was bugging the hell out of her, and if she had to say ‘shag’ one more time, he was gonna be sorry.



“That’s part of it, yeah. Those Gypsy’s were bloody clever though. They made it so that every part, ever side, had to have that ‘pure happiness’, as you call it, at the same bloody time for the curse to be broken. Damn hard to do, that.” Spike paused, waiting to see if the Slayer would understand. When her face just scrunched up in confusion, he felt like he was talking to a brick wall.



“Huh? But… what?”



“Look, Slayer, I’m not real sure how to say this in a way that won’t sound a bit crass, so I’m just gonna say it. The demon and the soul had to experience pure happiness at the same time. For Angelus, that should have been bloody impossible. That soul in there, not his soul, yeah? Nothing that made his demon happy should have made that girls soul happy too. Way I figure, the soul had gone forever without love, done nothing but drive Angelus crazy with guilt for a hundred years. Finally connecting with another soul, especially a Slayer like she would have been, must have given her that happiness. And Angelus, well he probably hated you, but he was having sex. Sex with a young virgin girl, mind you, and that would have made him bloody ecstatic.” Spike took a long drag of his cigarette. “So, there you have it.”



Spike watched her face. Watched as she tried to work out what he was saying. Watched as her confusion grew at first, recognized the moment she put it together, saw the immediate denial, watched as knowledge warred with denial, saw acceptance set in, and finally, observed a brief flash of pain and horror cross her features before she seemed to shut down completely. He wondered if she had finally reached her breaking point. He wondered if Slayers had a breaking point.



“I don’t… I… I have to go,” Buffy said, as she jumped off the headstone. She was halfway across the cemetery before Spike could even register what she’d said.



He stared after her as he took another drag and then tossed his cigarette to the ground.



“Bloody hell.”



*************************



“He is gone, sir.”



“What?” He turned dark, dangerous eyes on the shuffling man.



“The… the house, sir. He left and hasn’t returned,” he gulped.



“The girl?”



“Gone,” he whispered. “The place is empty.”



“How long?”



“I… I’m not sure. A few days?”



The sound of glass shattering as he threw his tumbler at the wall reverberated through the dark room.



“Find them.”

TBC...