Willow was up with the sun, padding quietly through the halls, splashing cold water on her face and carrying her shoes as she tip toed down the stairs. It was a little after 6:00am and she knew time was short. Sooner or later those dreaded questions would begin: “Hey Willow, what have you found?”, “so, what do you think Willow?”, “Do you have any idea where this spell could have come from, Wil?” and so on and so forth. She was freaking out about the very prospect of her friends finding out what she had done. They weren’t just her friends, they were family. And now that she had lost Tara, to lose them too would be beyond devastating. Since there was no one she could confess to about the spell, she had to find a way to end it on her own. She snuck out of the house and onto the street, making her way into the shopping district.
* * *
Spike awoke with a bitch of a headache.
“Bugger,” he grumbled, slowly opening his eyes. He tried to sit up. Oops, too fast.
“Oh bloody hell, someone stake me,” he groaned, falling back onto the concrete surface of the mausoleum.
He sourly blamed Buffy for his hangover from hell, since she had come in screaming at him and putting him in a foul mood. What else was there to do after that, but drink a bottle of Jack? Spike frowned angrily at the empty bottle on the floor, about two metres to the left of him, grumbling again.
“Thought you were meant to be the answer to my prayers, mate.”
Ok, so he was still half cut. This realisation only made him dread how much worse his hangover was going to be when he was fully sober. Bloody bint had him in a drunken stupor. Yeah, yeah, so he was usually in a drunken stupor anyway, whatever. He maintained that this particular drinking binge was still her fault. He hated how she had him by the short and curlies. And she bloody knew it too, didn’t she.
“Face it mate, you’re pathetic, is what you are. Can’t even stand up to a soddin’ slayer anymore.”
Apparently she also caused him to talk to himself. That had to be her fault too, everything was.
Spike sighed in resignation. At the end of the day she was his golden goddess and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her and the Niblet. He needed to straighten things out with her. He needed to engage her in a conversation that she couldn’t walk out of as soon as she damn well felt like it. This time she was going to hear him out.
* * *
“This is so much fun!” Dawn squealed gleefully to a much less enthusiastic Buffy.
“Oooh, oooh, I’ve got another one!”
She was actually jumping.
“And when do I get to fire questions of personal randomness at you?” Buffy came back wryly.
“Ummm, how ‘bout never? So, how bad was Riley in bed?”
Buffy looked positively mortified. Her face reddened. She tried to hold it in, really she did. But there was no fooling a truth spell.
“He wasn’t bad bad, but he wasn’t the best either. I think he brought his military soldieryness home more often than not, ‘cause he was kinda mechanical, but at least he taught me how to fake it,” she gushed. Her mouth dropped open.
“You are so dead, Dawn,” she added.
Dawn was giggling so hard, she couldn’t breathe.
“You can’t keep asking me this stuff, it’s private!” Buffy cried in frustration at her sister’s laughter.
“Ok, ok, one more!” Dawn gasped, her face as red as Buffy’s, but for entirely different reasons.
“You know it wasn’t Spike’s fault I was there last night, don’t you?”
Buffy rolled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Did you really blame him at all, or where you just taking it out on him to make yourself feel better?”
“Fine! I was taking out my anger on Spike, ok. He deserved it, after the things he said,” Buffy grumbled.
“Do you love him?”
“No! … I… have feelings for him. Damn it Dawnie, you said one more question!”
“Oooh, the warm, mushy kind?” Dawn teased, completely disregarding the last part of what her sister had said.
“Maybe. I dunno. God Dawn, stop it!”
Dawn laughed again, before becoming somewhat more serious.
“Buffy, it’s ok. Spike was awesome while you were… gone. He was the only one who really looked after me. Everyone else was kinda wrapped up in their own stuff. And he cares about you, really cares about you, underneath the tough act.”
Buffy sighed.
“It’s not that simple Dawnie. Spike and I… we have a lot of history, most of it bad. And he doesn’t have a soul. The only thing that’s standing between him and total bloodshed is a chip.”
“Pffft. Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know what I believe anymore. I don‘t think I want I believe it though.”
Dawn cast her eyes back down to her plate and busied herself with her blueberry pancakes, hope building in her. She knew what Spike was; where he had been, yet she still believed without a doubt that he was her sister’s equal and that they could be really good together. They were like opposite sides of the same coin.
“What are you thinking?” Buffy murmured, eyes watching the teenager intently.
“About how you and Spike are meant to be together,” Dawn blurted, then frowned. “Hey, no fair,” she whinged.
In a bout of immaturity, Buffy stuck her tongue out in reply.
“That’s what they call karma, little sister. From the legendary saying ‘what goes around comes around’. And by the way, I’d hardly say that Spike and I are destined to be together. We’d be like the couple from hell.”
Dawn raised her eyebrows and smirked sardonically. The look was so Spike, it was unnerving.
“Whatever you say,” she retorted mockingly.
“Just hurry up on those pancakes and get your schoolbag ready.”
Dawn raised her eyebrows in the Spike expression once more.
“Buffy, it’s Saturday.”
* * *
“Oh dear,” Giles mumbled, pushing through the records that were strewn haphazardly across the floor, in search of his glasses. “This can’t be good.”
He looked up from his search distractedly at the sound of the doorbell ringing.
“Right, I’ll just have to be blind for the moment,” he resolved, making his way to the front door.
He swung it open, then winced, as the bright sunlight shone directly in his eyes.
“Hey Giles, how’s the hangover?” Anya asked, brushing past him as she entered his apartment.
“Like several little Dawn‘s are whining in my ear, thankyou Anya.”
“You are looking a little shabby there,” Xander blurted as he, too, invited himself into Giles’ apartment.
“I’ll be quite alright, but your concern is touching,” Giles muttered sarcastically, closing the door behind them and joining them in the living room, where they had already made themselves comfortable on his couch.
Anya turned around on the couch, in search of Giles, finding him fumbling around in his kitchen. Rather than making the effort to stand up all over again, the ex-demon called out from the comfort of the living room, “Buffy said her and Dawn will be here asap! Oh, and FYI, we‘re under some kind of truth spell, so you‘re probably affected too.”
“Fantastic,” Giles mumbled, trying to process this information and remember where he’d put his glasses the night before.
“Honey, it’s not pronounced ‘asap’, it’s not a word. It’s A.S.A.P.; an abbreviation for ‘As Soon As Possible’,” Xander corrected, speaking to her as though she were a five year old. “We’ve been through this how many times?”
“So what? Why does it matter, Xander? Why can’t I just pronounce words the way I like?” Anya retorted irritably.
Xander sighed. “Because it pisses people off, Ahn.”
“People? What people?!”
“Me!”
“Could you two please knock it off, I have a rather agonising pain in my head, that your bickering only seems to make incredibly worse,” came Giles’ weary voice from the kitchen.
“Well then, tell Xander to stop being such an ass!”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Honey, the ass wont be me when you’re walking around saying nonsensical words like ‘asap’.”
“Why do you even care?! You’re always picking on me. Getting all high and mighty and ‘gee whiz, I don’t have anything better to do, why don’t I complain about Anya’s English skills?’! Why don’t you try joining my team instead of playing against me, once in awhile?” Anya complained.
Xander sighed again. “You know I’m always on your team, Ahn, I just thought you should be aware of the whole ‘asap’ thing, because, you know, I care about you and don’t want you to make a grammatical fool out of yourself. Plus, it was kinda bugging me.”
Anya pouted childishly on the couch, her arms folded over her chest. “Well-”
Another loud knock on the door interrupted the argument and made Giles wince.
“Coming!” He called out, hoping to avert any further knocking.
He opened the door slightly, careful not to let the sunlight hit his face. He mentally noted that this is what it must be like for vampires: knowing sunlight equals much pain. Buffy and Dawn stood on his doorstep, bright and cheery and very wide awake.
“Hey Giles! Wow, you look like crap!” Dawn cried as she entered the small and rapidly filling apartment.
Buffy gasped at her sister’s rudeness.
“Dawn!” She cried, berating the teenager. She stepped inside and was quick to rectify herself when she came face to face with her watcher. “On second thoughts, I’m with her. Geez Giles, what and how much of it, did you drink last night?!”
“Yes, once again, I thank you all for your touching concern and I do believe it was a bottle of whisky, in answer to your question,” Giles replied haughtily and began to massage his temples with his eyes closed.
Buffy raised her eyebrows.
“Like, a whole bottle?”
Giles opened his eyes.
“I’m quite sure it feels like a whole bottle’s worth of hangover, yes,” was his snappy retort.
“Okay, okay,” Buffy backed off, gesturing peace with her hands. “No big, didn‘t mean to care.”
“Hey Buff. How’s the truth treating ya?” Xander sang out from the couch.
“Mostly crappy. How are we all this morning?” Buffy said, false cheer in her voice as she sat down in the chair next to Dawn’s.
Anya shot a Xander a glare that went unnoticed by noone. “Well personally, I would be better if certain people didn’t keep nagging at me for stupid non-reasons.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Making up your own version of the English language is hardly a ‘non-reason’.”
“Whatever!” Anya huffed indignantly. “You’re just -”
*Knock knock knock*
“And yet again I wonder if the knocking on my door shall ever cease,” Giles complained, massaging his temples again, as Dawn got up and opened the door.
A blur of black came running in, topped by a smoking blanket.
Spike.
Buffy rolled her eyes and let fly with the snark before he had even pulled the blanket from his head. “What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, what’s he doing here?” Xander repeated in annoyance.
“Shut up, whelp. I’m here to help crack this sodding spell.”
“Pffft, yeah, telling the truth would be a problem for you,” Xander mumbled.
Buffy looked sheepish at her own bitchiness. “Oh.”
Spike focused on her, ignoring Xander‘s snide comment. “Yeah, ‘oh’ is bloody right, luv. Don’t know what possessed me to put myself in the same room as you after your little movie of the week display last night, but - well, yeah I do actually, it’s ‘cos I’m in love with you.” Spike winced at himself and wished he could crawl under a rock.
An uncomfortable tension filled the room, matched only by the equally uncomfortable silence that accompanied it. Buffy’s cheeks were blazing, as she kept her eyes on the floor. Several seconds passed, with Spike watching Buffy intently, silently pleading for the crumb she never gave and Buffy trying to disappear into the carpet, with everyone else‘s gaze moving back and forth, between the two. And then, like the greatest gift on earth, Giles’ telephone started to ring, shrilly.
Giles clamped his hands over his ears and Anya cried out “I’ll get it!”, making a beeline for the phone. “Hello, Mr Giles’ residence, how may I help you?” she recited, her business phone skills in check. “Willow!” she exclaimed a few seconds later, capturing everyone in the room’s undivided attention. “Where are you? Uh huh….. Like how bad?….. Oh, that bad….. Yes, everyone’s here. Well, you weren’t home so Buffy left you a note…. Yes, you’re right, that’s not particularly important in the bigger scheme of things…. Ok, we’ll be right over. Meet us outside the supermarket end. Ok, bye.” She hung up the phone and sat back down in her chair, picking up one of Giles’ records from the floor as if nothing had just transpired.
“Um, Ahn?” Xander questioned.
She looked up from the Cream album she held in her hands. “Yes?”
“What did Willow want?”
Anya dropped the record back onto the floor. “She wants me to tell you all that some suspiciously apocalyptic behaviour is going down at the mall and that we should all meet her there.” Her eyes caught Xander’s and she smirked. “Asap,” she added.
“Well gee honey, thanks for the urgent memo,” came his sarcastic reply.
Buffy looked troubled, but a sense of relief washed over her at Willow’s timely distraction. “Was that really all that she said, or did you just vague it up some?”
“Hey, I’m just repeating what I was told,” Anya defended herself.
“Right then, I guess we should be going,” Giles interjected at this point.
Dawn jumped up to stop him. “Maybe you should stay here, you really aren’t looking so top form there.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, I’m perfectly all right, I have survived a hangover before, you know.”
“Right. Of course you have,” Dawn mumbled, sitting back down.
Spike sighed as the room was heading for another silent spell. “So shouldn’t we be goin’ to meet Red right about now?”
Everyone scrambled to their feet, as though having just remembered that they were meant to be somewhere. Spike rolled his eyes. Was it just him, or was everyone suddenly becoming intensely stupid under this spell?
“Guess I’m goin’ through the tunnels. See you at the good ol’ Sunnyhell mall,” he said to others, parting ways with them when they clambered into Giles’ car.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for all the feedback! I haven't gotten around to replying to each one personally yet, but I promise I will get there =). Keep reading and reviewing. THANX FOR THE AWESOME POSTER SAMMY!!