Willow nearly jumped out of her skin when Buffy charged into the room, and Buffy would have laughed at the sight of her best friend shrieking and waving her hands up in the air were she not too focused on her telepathy problem.
“Willow!” she cried, grabbing her friends arms tightly. “I can hear thoughts again!”
Willow’s green eyes widened and her mouth dropped into a small O so quickly it was almost humorous. “What? Really? Oh no! Why? Did that demon attack you again? You left it alive, right? We have to make the--”
“No, no, I didn’t fight the demon, this is something else,” Buffy told her, exasperated and worried, as she ran her hands through her slightly-greasy and messed up hair. “I went over to Giles’ last night, remember, to watch Spike, and it just . . . happened.”
“What? No demon-y encounter?”
Buffy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I was feeding Spike, and suddenly, I was hearing what he was thinking. I would’ve called you last night, but . . . Well, I didn’t want to be bombarded with your thoughts and his and I couldn’t leave him, you know that.”
“No, of course Buffy, you did the right thing. I mean, you wouldn’t want to have to walk back here when everyone was still awake. Good thing it’s really early in the morning, huh?”
“Yeah.” Buffy furrowed her brows in thought. “What if it’s a virus? You know, like a telepathic virus. Once you get it, it can come back anytime. Like a cold sore.”
“A cold sore of the brain,” Willow supplied.
Buffy cringed at the image that gave her. “Ugh. So not happy about this. Is there anything you know, right off the top of your head? I would’ve told Giles, but . . . Well, you know, just got back from Olivia’s--really not in the mood to hear what he’s thinking.”
“I hear ya.” Willow bit into her thumbnail and furrowed her eyebrows in thought. She was quiet for a minute. “I can’t think of anything right off the top of my head.”
Buffy groaned, although she had been expecting that. Although Willow was smart, she couldn’t expect her to have an answer for everything.
“Hmm, you know, Giles has a book about demon viruses. Maybe it’ll be in there. I mean, this is bad, Buffy, really bad. Maybe you should take the day off.” She started pacing and Buffy watched as she worried her lip between her teeth. With each passing second Willow’s brows furrowed closer together. Suddenly she stopped pacing and turned to Buffy, eyes wide. “Ack! Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
That worried Buffy. “Why? What? Oh my God, is it bad?”
“No, I meant uh . . . the whole thinking you’re gonna go completely insane thing. I’m sure we’ll get it fixed before that happens.”
Buffy shook her head. “No, don’t worry. It’s okay.”
Willow nodded and started pacing again, and Buffy waited for her to say anything. She just needed Willow to say something to reassure her, tell her she had a plan, so that Buffy could calm herself down a little.
“What do you think?” Willow asked suddenly.
Buffy frowned. “About what?”
“You think you can handle that for now?”
“Handle what?”
Willow blinked. “You know, going to Giles’s.”
“You didn’t say anything about Giles,” Buffy reminded, blinking at her. “I mean, you mentioned that virus book he has, but that’s . . . oh.” Buffy hummed to herself. “Um . . . Weird, I didn’t hear you think. At all.”
Willow sat still for a second. “What about then?”
“Nope.”
Willow hummed to herself. “Huh. Maybe it comes back, but only for a little while. Still, we should probably tell Giles later. I mean, if it keeps coming back in spurts like that, it could really throw you off.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Huh, that was weird.”
“So . . . What did Spike think about?”
Buffy shrugged. “Nothing you wouldn’t expect. He hates me, wants to kill me, blah, blah, blah. Normal Spike stuff. Pretty much the same stuff he says out loud.” She frowned. “But . . . The weird thing is, um, I saw things. Visuals. That didn’t happen last time. Like, he would imagine something . . . And I would see it, like a movie. Oh! Or he would remember something, and I would see it like I was him.”
“Huh, that is weird. You think you can go to school, or do you think it’ll come back?”
Buffy shook her head. “Nah. I think I’ll chance class. If it comes back, I’ll just leave.”
“Okay--but promise me you’ll come with me to talk to Giles. I’m not kidding, Buffy--this could be serious.”
Buffy groaned. If the thoughts were gone, she didn’t want to press the issue anymore. She just wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened, but she knew that she would have to bring it up with Giles. Sighing, she changed her clothes and got ready for the day, hoping it wouldn’t come back in the middle of one of her classes.
Buffy walked beside Willow, dreading the conversation with Giles. She didn’t necessarily want anyone to know. No harm, no foul, and no reason to dredge it all up. But she knew they had to research it, because Willow was right--if it came back sporadically, it could really confuse her, or throw her off guard.
When they made it to Giles’, Buffy took in a deep sigh. “Is Spike asleep?” she asked suddenly.
Willow and Giles looked at her, most likely confused by her strange greeting. “Er, yes. I imagine so. He hasn’t complained for about an hour. Which generally means he’s dead to the world, no pun intended. Why?”
“’Cause I don’t want him to know,” she mumbled. When she saw how confused they looked, she raised an eyebrow. “Would you want Spike knowing you could hear and see what he was thinking?”
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” Giles conceded. Then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait . . . you can hear thoughts again?”
“Which is why we’re hear. We think maybe she contracted a virus and it came back or something.”
“You can hear what I’m thinking right now?” he asked. “Oh, Buffy, and this morning--I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have been thinking of Olivia and the peanut butter, I swear to you I had no intentions of--”
Buffy lifted a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa--Giles, I can’t hear thoughts anymore. And that is more information than I needed to know.”
Giles cleared his throat and whipped off his glasses. “Er, right . . . Yes, I apologize . . .” He replaced his glasses and fidgeted for a moment. “Er . . . so, it went away, then? Your . . . affliction?”
Buffy nodded. “Yeah. It’s gone now. We were, um . . . wondering if you knew anything about that? I mean, I thought maybe that demon that, um . . . did the mental bond-y thing with me might have given me herpes. You know, telepathically. And without the gross sores which, ew, now I’m never getting that image out of my mind.”
Giles frowned slightly. “Perhaps . . . It seems to be the only explanation. When did it start?”
“Um, while I was watching Spike sometime. It must’ve went away before you got here.”
“Wait . . . You mentioned something about seeing his thoughts earlier.”
Buffy nodded.
“That is odd . . . It could mean that each time it returns it’ll have a stronger effect on you.” Buffy must have looked worried, because Giles rushed to amend himself. “Or it could just be his over-active imagination. I have a few books on the subject of telepathy, and we could always reread about the demon itself.” He went over to the bookshelf and busied himself with grabbing some books.
“Hey, grab that one about demon viruses, too,” Willow suggested, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table.
Buffy groaned and sat beside her best friend, putting her head in her hands. “God, I so don’t need this right now.”
Willow put a hand on her back. “You don’t need this sort of thing ever. But don’t worry, if there’s something in any of these books, we’ll find it.”
Buffy made a noncommittal noise to show that she’d heard her. “Ugh. Out of all the times for it to come back, why did it have to be around Spike?” She lifted her head from her hands and looked at Willow. “He can never know, okay? Ever.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, boy, you have no idea. It’s definitely not of the good when you get images of him bashing your face into the tile. And some of his memories? I’m gonna need mind-bleach.” She thought of Angelus cupping Spike’s manhood and she shuddered. “Oh, speaking of mind-bleach-y thoughts, how’s that forgetting spell comin’ along?”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Oh . . . Um, you meant that? Sorry, Buffy, I-I thought you were joking. I mean, those things are so fickle and dangerous, and I don’t--”
“Hey, Wills? I was kidding.” She furrowed her eyebrows when she thought about how fixated Spike had been on the fact she’d rubbed against his leg. “Well, kinda.”
Buffy scanned over the page tiredly, resting her jaw in the palm of her hand. She was currently reading over one of Giles’ books about demon viruses, and thankfully, it didn’t seem to her than she had any combination of any of them. Some of them were as harmless as a demon flu that only affected certain types of demons, but there were others that were so grotesque and disgusting she couldn’t even read about them without her stomach churning.
“Ugh, maybe it was some freak relapse and it won’t ever happen again,” Buffy aired, hoping it would make Giles see the error of his ways for making her read pages of horrible and disgusting ailments--some of them with pictures.
“Buffy, as much as I would love for that to be so, you must consider the worst case scenario. You were lucky this time. You were alone with someone who is essentially harmless. Can you imagine this returning during combat? I don’t wish to alarm you, but obviously the power of it has strengthened--you said that you could see his thoughts; his memories? That is most worrisome.”
Buffy sighed. “If I have to read about pustules one more time, I think I’m gonna yack all over your books, and it won’t be because I have any sort of illness.”
“Buffy, I understand you not wanting to research this, but I can’t help but worry. This is serious. You remember its effects on you the last time it happened?”
She sighed, realizing he was right. “Yes.”
“Giles? It says here that there’s a sort of spell that makes people more perceptive of their enemies. You think that might be the case?” Willow suggested warily. “I mean, Spike’s an enemy, right? Maybe someone, or something, cast a spell on Buffy to make her more perceptive? You know, of demons? ‘Cause she didn’t hear us, but she heard him.”
Giles hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, but why? Why would an enemy of the slayer do such a thing?”
“Maybe it wasn’t an enemy,” Willow said dolefully. When both Giles and Buffy looked at her, she sighed. “Well, you know how . . . off I’ve been lately. Maybe when I did that spell yesterday--you know, the truth one--I accidentally . . . did this instead. A lot of the ingredients are similar.”
They all shared a look. Clearly, none of them wanted to admit it, but Willow’s suggestion was highly likely.
“The perception reversal spell is really simple, an-and harmless, too. I mean, if it’s something else, all the harmless spell will do is make her . . . um, it’ll do nothing. She’ll probably just sneeze ‘cause of the herbs flying at her face. I mean, it’s just a perception reversal spell. All we need is a few, um . . . things,” Willow mumbled awkwardly, her finger scanning over the words while she ducked her head, and Giles and Buffy tried to refrain from looking at each other. “We’ll need some taggis root, obviously.”
Buffy and Giles finally met each other’s eyes, and Buffy felt a strong surge of guilt fill her. She didn’t want to think Willow had caused it, but it made sense.
“We’ll go to the store. Buffy, will you watch Spike? I’d ask you come along with Willow and me, but . . . it’s nearing dusk, and if an enemy were to show up . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, I know--Perceptive Buffy, not a Good Buffy,” she said with a shrug.
Giles nodded, then handed Willow her jacket. “Spike should be up soon. He has a mug of blood in the fridge. Oh, and Buffy?” She looked at him. “Try not to let him get to you. Remember, his thoughts may be bad, but he is harmless. The demons out there aren’t.”
She nodded. “Try to hurry.”
He nodded, then quickly left the house with Willow.
Buffy waited for a minute, watching the sun lower on the horizon. It wasn’t quite dark enough for vampires to be out and about, but soon they would be. She held her head in her hands. She had wanted to show Willow she trusted her, to give Willow more confidence, and what had that accomplished? Willow being in more pain. Buffy was a horrible friend--not only had she abandoned Willow when she was upset, but she had turned her good intentions against her in an attempt to make her more confident.
Willow wasn’t a bad witch. Buffy might not have been an expert in the whole Wicca thing, but she could tell Willow had a lot of power. She would have to be in order to cause as much trouble as she had with Buffy’s engagement. And to be fair, Willow hadn’t screwed up her spell at all--in fact, it had worked perfectly. So how could she mess up an even simpler spell? It made sense, but it didn’t seem right.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Spike called.
Buffy groaned.
“You didn’t leave me alone, did you? Hey! Rupert!” She heard him rattle his chains. “Oi! Gettin’ parched! Hello? Oi! Nancy Boy!” He started shouting loudly and stomping on the porcelain.
Buffy choked back a few chuckles and stood up, going over to the bathroom. He was still throwing a fit when she opened the door. “God, could you be any louder?”
Spike suddenly stopped making racket and stared at her. The look on his face was priceless. Oh. Well, isn’t this just perfect. Throw a fit, why don’t you? No one can hear you. “Well it’s about time. I’m thirsty. And my wrists hurt.”
Buffy furrowed her brows. “What? Giles put the shackles on? Didn’t he see your wrists were cut?” When she realized how concerned she sounded, she scoffed. “I mean, not that I care . . .”
“Well, apparently, neither did he.” Never mind the fact I refused to tell him it hurt. Told him I didn’t even care. Like hell I’m admittin’ anything about how much I hate this tub. “I think he’s a sadist, luv.”
Buffy sighed. “Well, I’m sure the cuts have reopened. You haven’t been drinking enough blood to heal as quickly as you normally do.”
Don’t let her know how much it hurts. “Yeah, well, prob’ly. Don’t really notice it much. And, speaking of blood, I could use some right about now. I didn’t finish my breakfast this morning.”
Sighing, Buffy went over and got the key for the chains. “Look, Spike, they’re just cuts, but I don’t wanna hear you whine about them all night, so let’s get this over with.”
“I wasn’t whining,” he told her, and she knew he was being honest.
“No, but you will. I know you, Spike. You always complain.”
“Well, you’re right about that.” He extended his wrists and Buffy undid the manacles and shackles around his feet. “You gonna tie me up in the chair again, or is the tub for me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if you’re really nice when I put the peroxide on, I’ll tie you to the chair.”
“As if I care either way.” Thank God.
Truth was, Buffy had actually liked Spike saying ‘thanks’ to her the night before, even if it was only in his head. She didn’t want to sound selfish, but considering all the things she did for people, she never really got any gratitude. She knew she shouldn’t be worried about that, but it was nice to hear it, even if it was from him.
I can tell Joyce was a good mum. Look at how Buffy takes care of me. She learned that from somewhere and Joyce, well . . . she makes one good cuppa. I wonder if Buffy visits her. Hell, if I still had my mum, I’d visit her every chance I got.
No. Stop thinking ‘bout that. Look where those thoughts got you.
Buffy furrowed her eyebrows while she pressed the cotton balls against his reopened cuts. She ignored his hisses and small growls, and contemplated about what he’d thought about Joyce. Buffy really hadn’t visited her much. Even on Thanksgiving, she had decided to do it on her own. Buffy couldn’t pretend to understand what his deal with his mother was, but she wondered if perhaps she should visit her mother more often.
“Slayer?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“How’s your mum?”
He shrugged. “Good, I guess. You know how mothers are. I mean . . . um, well . . .” She looked up at him and cocked her head to the side. “Do you?”
“Always naggin’, worryin’, that sort of thing?” She nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Had a mum too, once, you know.”
She was almost afraid to ask, considering he was a vampire and the two times she’d caught him thinking about his mother, he’d gotten awkward about it. “What . . . um, what happened to her?”
“You mean, did I kill her?”
She opened her mouth to protest, then realized that he knew she’d be lying if she did. “Yeah.”
An older woman was coming at her, beating on her chest. There was a fire flickering in the background, and she felt tears running down her face when she saw that the woman’s face was deformed into that of a vampire--
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Buffy knew that the bitchy thing to do was press the issue, and that she should be as mean and rude as possible in regards to him, but his tone made her decide against it. Thinking on it, she hadn’t really wanted to do it in the first place. It just seemed to be a line she shouldn’t cross.
The woman disintegrated into dust before her--his--eyes--
Buffy cleared her throat and shook her head. “Okay.”
Huh, she’s being more civil than usual.
She looked up at him, wondering why he’d had to stake his mother. Had she attacked him? Had it been some sort of vile, twisted plan of Angelus’ before he sired Spike? She wanted to know, but at the same time, she didn’t.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“My mom likes you,” she told him, cringing. It was true, as much as she hated to admit it. “I don’t get it ‘cause, on the list of boys you don’t wanna bring home to Mom, you’re pretty much at the top.”
“What can I say? I’m a charmer.” Buffy shook her head and rolled her eyes, tossing the last cotton ball into the garbage. “Well, you can tell your mum I like her too.”
Buffy tried to find a note of sarcasm in his voice, but he was being serious. She nodded. “Next time it comes up, I will.”
He smirked and arched an eyebrow at her. “Do I come up in your conversations a lot then?”
“Only when I have horrible nightmares.”
Spike chuckled. “I can see it now. Your mum, tryin’ to push you off in my direction. Don’t think she gets the whole ‘mortal enemy’ thing, but, well, you can’t blame her. I’m a keeper.”
“Yes, because God knows Mom would be thrilled to find out I’m dating a guy who snacks on humans and has no real job to speak of.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Well, there was that one time . . .”
“What one time?”
She sighed, shuddering at the memory of it. She knelt before him, hands on her knees, and looked up into his face. “She wanted to know if that charming young English man was going to come over any time soon, and if he ever worked out the situation with the girl.”
Spike laughed at that. Really laughed. Buffy smiled at it--she’d never heard Spike laugh before. “Really? What an odd bird.”
“Why did you go to her, anyway?”
“Well, I was lookin’ for you. I had that invitation, right? You never revoked it. Anyway, your mum was there instead, so I just asked if I could talk to her for a bit.” He shrugged, acting like it was perfectly normal for a vampire to do that.
Buffy had been so worried when she’d heard his voice over the phone. She knew that she wouldn’t have the time to save her mother. She knew for a fact that when she showed up, her mother would be dead, and Spike would be gone. And even after she’d showed up to find Spike hadn’t touched her, there were times when she thought about how badly it could have gone and she got chills.
“It never crossed your mind to kill her?”
Huh? Why would it--oh. Oh right. “Well, yeah, o’ course it did. I was gonna kill her as soon as I finished my hot cocoa.”
“No you weren’t.”
He lowered his head in defeat. “No. I wasn’t.”
She didn’t understand it, but then again, it was Spike. She figured it was perfectly normal not to understand him at all.
“Well, come on. That blood isn’t gonna drink itself you know.”
“I did not check you out!” Buffy insisted, and she even stamped her foot a little bit.
“Oh, come on, you know you did.”
Buffy threw her hands up in the air. “I was being cautious! Here you were, saying you were trucing, but how did I know it wasn’t one of Angel’s tricks?”
“Because I hate the pouf! He was stealin’ my girl from me--you honestly think I’m going to kill the one person who actually has a shot at takin’ him out?”
“It’s called lying for a reason, Spike. Point is, I was makin’ sure you weren’t going to go to attack me--I was not checking you out!”
“You act like it’s a bad thing.”
“Uh, hello? It is a bad thing! You, vampire. Me, slayer. Can you not see the badness?”
“What, an’ like you weren’t starin’ at my chest yesterday, either. You thought I was hittin’ on you, too. Whose mind is in the gutter now?”
“You were right behind me! What was I supposed to think?”
“That I was tryin’ to push you aside so I could sit in my chair, obviously!”
Buffy growled and stomped her foot in frustration again. She pointed at Spike, who was sitting in his chair, ropes all around him, but by the way he was smiling, one would have thought he was pleased with the situation. “No, Spike, you were the one looking at me! You were looking at my boobs!”
“And I admit it, don’t I? So what? You think I’m going to lie? Yeah, you’re a looker. What? It’s illegal to appreciate that now? Just ‘cause I hate you doesn’t mean I can’t look! Just admit it, Summers--you were looking, and you were liking.”
“I will admit no such thing!”
“Because you’re in denial. Just say it. Just tell me how hot I am. Tell me you like looking at me. Go on. Do it.”
Buffy sighed and shook her head. Spike had it in his head that when she had tied him up, she had grabbed his ass. Maybe her elbow had grazed his posterior or maybe her leg had rubbed against him at some point--she didn’t know. All she knew was that he was adamant on the fact she had grabbed his butt--not only vocally, but in his thoughts, as well. When she’d denied it, he went off about how he wasn’t stupid and that he knew she thought he was hot. She’d tried to explain that maybe a part of her had touched him accidentally, but he wasn’t buying.
“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, thank you, but that doesn’t mean what I’m saying isn’t true. You think I’m hot, Slayer, and it had nothin’ to do with any sort of spell. You thought so before the engagement, and you think it now.”
“Why do you want me to say it so much, Spike?”
“Why won’t you admit it?”
“Why do you care?”
“Why do you?”
Buffy moaned in in exasperation and buried her face into her hands. How was it that he irritated her so much? He hadn’t even been that bad--he had actually been somewhat civil. Now he had to go back to being a massive prick. What was that all about? And why did he want to hear her say it so bad?
She is a bloody liar, I know it. I’ve seen how she looks at me. Come on. She’ll crack eventually. You can’t be the only one who thinks your enemy is hot.
Her head snapped up. So he was feeling self-conscious about thinking she was hot even though he hated her. It was about evening the score--making it so he didn’t feel like a freak.
Well, screw that.
“Spike, you’re not attractive. You’ve got funny cheekbones, and your eyes are all squinty, and your hair--what is that? What style are you going for?”
Oi! My cheekbones are fine!
“Hey, my cheekbones are fine! And my eyes are not squinty! Talking about squinty eyes, what about Peaches? Is he trying to do a smouldering gaze? ‘Cause it just makes him look near-sighted if you ask me.”
“At least his hair doesn’t blind people.”
“Oh, come off it--his hair sticks straight up. He could ram it right through someone and kill ‘em that way if he wanted. You do realize he’s got the forehead of a caveman?”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? He so does not!”
“And you think he’s better looking than me? Well, that is truly, truly shameful. I’m actually depressed.”
“You’re just pissed off because you’ve got a crush on me and I don’t like you back.” She put her hands on her hips and smirked knowingly.
“In your wildest dreams. I said you were hot--never said I liked you. And you’re not that hot anyway. Dru was better.”
That randomly stung for some reason. Why should she care if Spike thought Drusilla was more attractive? He had dated her for over a century, after all. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you? Her eyes are like ET’s eyes, and--and her skin was oily,” She finished lamely, realizing that Drusilla was actually quite beautiful.
“Her eyes were hypnotic, and her skin was just fine. You’re a looker, but you’re not that much of one.”
“Whatever! You clearly want me! If I wanted to, I could so have you eating out of the palm of my hand.”
“Don’t make me sick, Slayer. If I never kiss you again it’ll be too soon.”
“Well the feeling is mutual,” she snapped, tossing her hair out of her eyes.
“Good!”
“Good!” She turned on her heel and went over to the couch, plopping down on it, wondering why on earth she had bothered to tie him up to the chair in the first place.
She folded her arms and stared at the blank television screen.
Stupid slayer. If she would just admit to the fact she thinks I’m sexy--and I know she does--then we wouldn’t have been arguing for the past fifteen minutes. Wait, you like arguing. So it’s a good thing. And I do not have funny cheekbones!
Buffy gritted her teeth.
The door opened. “Buffy, we’re--what’s Spike doing out here?” she heard Giles say.
Buffy stood up from the couch, wondering why she even bothered to sit down in the first place. “He hates the tub.”
“What? I never said that.”
Buffy opened her mouth to contradict him, then realized he really hadn’t ever told her that. “Oh. Well, his wrists were cut and it wasn’t good for the shackles to keep rubbing against the cuts.”
“They’re cut because of you in the first place.”
“Well if you’d just told Giles they were cut, they wouldn’t have reopened ‘cause of the shackles, huh?”
“If you would have just admitted the fact you liked me walkin’ around with that towel on, you wouldn’t have tied me up and put the cuffs on for no good reason!”
“Whoa, guys,” Willow said, walking forward with one hand raised, using her other arm to keep the paper bag pressed against her chest. “So Spike is tied up in the chair. Okay. Fine. Buffy accidentally cut his wrists with the cuffs, and Giles didn’t realize that the cuts bothered Spike so much. Okay? No need for fighting.”
“Well, in order for us to do the spell, we can’t have him interrupting us,” Giles pointed out reasonably.
Spike frowned. “What spell? Not another truth one? Obviously that didn’t work.”
“No, Spike, it’s something to help Buffy in her patrols. And we’re not about to have you distract us.” Giles bent down and untied the ropes, glancing at Buffy quickly. “Now, we’re going to put you back into the tub. Depending on your behaviour, we may or may not allow you back out here in your chair, understood?”
“As if I care either way,” he grumbled, but snarled and lowered his head in defeat anyway.