“You feel any different?” Willow asked tentatively.
“Nah, pretty much the same. Then again, I didn’t feel any different before. Except for that annoying, nagging British voice in my head, I was totally fine.”
Giles sighed, then put the book on the table. “That is really the only idea we had. Unless either of you have any other ideas . . . ?”
They both shook their heads.
“That perception reversal spell should have done the trick. However, we’re going to have to test it. Buffy?” Giles looked at her expectantly.
Sighing, Buffy stood up from the chair that Spike usually sat in and dusted herself off. She didn’t really want to go talk to Spike to make sure, but she knew that she had to. Just so she would have an excuse to go in, she warmed a mug of blood, trying to ignore the hopeful and expectant faces on Giles and Willow.
She went into the bathroom, cupping the mug in her hands. Spike looked her over. “And to what do I owe this incredible honour? Didn’t even have to ask.”
She shrugged. “I guess this is my way of saying . . .” She tried to think of something quickly, and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Sorry?”
He blinked. Summers is apologizing to me? Has hell frozen over? “Damn right you are. ‘Bout bloody time too.”
Buffy sighed as she made her way over to Spike. Apparently, the spell hadn’t worked, and yet, Spike’s thoughts were the only ones she could hear--so far, anyway. That had to mean something. “Yeah well don’t get too excited. I’m not that sorry.” She knelt beside the tub and held out the mug.
“Did the spell work then?” he asked as he took the mug of blood from her.
She sighed, placing her hands in her lap, remembering the lie Giles had told about it helping her to fight. “I don’t know, haven’t patrolled yet.”
“I’d be more than glad to help you figure it out, ‘cept for my little handicap.” Stupid sodding chip. I would love to beat her face in, but no stupid bloody commando wankers.
“Yeah, right. More like you’d be hoping the spell hadn’t worked so you could get the advantage. Which you so wouldn’t, by the way.”
“Oh, please. Got two notches on my belt already, pet. Not exactly a fledgling.”
“Oh, wow, two slayers? Gosh, that’s terrifying!” Her hand flew to her chest in mock surprise. “I mean, how can I compete with that? It’s not like I haven’t killed hundreds--thousands--of vampires.”
“You know it terrifies you, Slayer. Stop the act.”
“You weren’t even scary before the chip, why would I be scared of you now? You’re so threatening with all the dirty glares and chain rattling. Face it, Spike--if you’re so tough, why am I still here?”
“If you’re so tough, why am I still here? Come on, Slayer, after all the posturing, the threats, you never did put that stake to me. I think it’s ‘cause you like me.”
“Oh, please. More like you’re in love with me. Always begging me to admit I think you’re hot--which I do not--and after all your posturing and threats, I’m still alive, so it works both ways buddy.”
“You also weren’t in a wheelchair for months, rollin’ around a bloody factory while Peaches wandered the town killing innocents with my girlfriend. You coulda hopped in and staked me any time, pet.”
“Well that would’ve been stupid, huh, seeing as you helped me with Acathla.”
“Oh, so you claim to know that I was gonna do that? Some sort of slayer dream? That big ol’ gasp an’ look of shock was all for show then? Please, Slayer. I know you fancy me. No shame in that.” He smirked at her then drank deeply out of the yellow mug. She makes it so easy to irritate her. God, so predictable.
She furrowed her eyebrows. She wanted to yell at him and call him a pig, but realized that was what he wanted. As hard as it was to keep her temper under control with him making completely false accusations of how she felt about him, she figured that being able to get under his skin for once was worth it.
“Is that what you want, Spike? Me to ‘fancy’ you?”
“Hell no. The very thought of it makes me want to heave. Not exactly the cream o’ the crop, are you, Slayer? ‘Sides, I don’t feature gettin’ Angel’s sloppy seconds.” And the obligatory Angel comment, that oughta rile her up.
Her fist clenched in her lap suddenly. It took all of her will power not to punch him in the face. She was not going to give in this time. She was not going to let him win. “That’s funny, isn’t that all Drusilla ever was?”
Bitch! “Shut your gob!”
“And you too, as I remember it. Didn’t Angel have his way with you a time or two?”
“That was once, and after I’d been with Dru a thousand bloody times, and Drusilla is not sloppy seconds!”
“No, but you’re just second best. You know she never loved you like she loved him,” she taunted.
“Shut up, Slayer, shut up right now or I’ll--”
“You’ll what, Spike? What are you gonna do to me?”
He narrowed his dark eyes. “Don’t mess with me, Slayer.”
“Oh, no! I’m so scared! Here comes the deep growl-y voice and the Glare of Doom!” She gasped.
“I’m warning you.”
She laughed cruelly. “And what are you gonna do? Face it Spike--you and I both know that all you ever were to her was a toy to pass the time until Daddy came home.”
Blood flew at her face suddenly and she gasped. The warm, thick liquid dripped over her face and into her mouth, and she coughed, spitting the taste out. She was aware of Spike laughing at her, and she was aware of the fact that Spike had thrown his blood at her face, but she could only concentrate on how disgusted and angry she was.
“Asshole!” she shrieked, then launched herself at him, ignoring the sting of blood in her eyes, spitting out the foul, coppery taste, while she pounded on his chest. He would grunt every now and then in pain, but mostly he was laughing. He tried to futilely block her and push her away, but since the shackles prevented him from moving too much, all he ended up doing was smacking her in the sides with the chains accidentally.
She could feel the wet, sticky pig’s blood sliding across her neck and over her face, dripping on her brand new shirt that she knew she’d never be able to wear again. “Damn you, Spike! What’s wrong with you?” she yelled, punching him in the face.
“Ow,” he groaned, the back of his head thumping off of the porcelain. He reached forward to strangle her or shove her away, but she grabbed the chain with one hand and twisted his hands away. He tried to gain hand control and jerk the chains away from her while he bucked and thrashed in attempts to knock her out of the tub.
She’s covered in blood, he realised suddenly. Hot, warm blood . . . on her flesh . . . That was when she noticed she was straddling his waist, and she could feel his hard on pressed against her. Just grab her . . . lick off the blood . . . won’t hurt a bit . . . He thrust against her, his cock hitting her in a place it had no right in touching, and her body reacted against her will. She arched her back slightly and ground against him, pleasure throbbing in her groin. Oh no. Dammit! Get her off of me! Get her off!
Buffy leapt off of him and tried to get out of the tub, but tripped herself doing it so she landed, hard, on her hip. She scrambled to her feet and ran over to the sink, glancing in the mirror. She grimaced. Quickly, she grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the faucet.
“That was all the blood, Slayer, I swear it was the blood.”
“Shut up. We’re not discussing this.”
“I would never--”
“I know!” She snapped, glaring at him. “You think I don’t know that? Blood, bloodlust, yes, I get it, let’s drop the subject, okay?” She turned back to the mirror and started scrubbing her face with the warm rag. “And if you ever throw blood on me again I will kill you.”
Are you daft? Of course blood on the slayer is gonna turn you on! Don’t you think before you act? You’re lucky she understands, Spike, otherwise . . . Wait. Wait half a mo’.
Buffy cringed. She knew where his thoughts were going.
She responded. She moaned. What the hell was that about?
She scrubbed her face faster. She wanted to tell him that it was her body’s response; that it had been involuntary. But she couldn’t spout it off seeing as he hadn’t actually said it.
After-effects of the spell, is all. Hell, I’m still getting those, why the hell shouldn’t she? She can’t tell me that in the middle of the night, when she’s alone, she doesn’t . . . think about it. That’s all it was, Spike. She doesn’t like you. She hates you. Don’t let it bother you.
Figuring she got enough of the blood off of her face and ignoring the stains it left on her shirt, she stomped out of the bathroom. When she made it into the kitchen and Willow and Giles were staring at her, she sighed. She knew they were looking at the spots of blood she had missed, and the big red splotches on her new soon-to-be-tossed shirt.
“The spell didn’t work,” she spat angrily as an explanation. Willow and Giles simply sighed.
“Buffy, are you sure this is a good idea?” Willow asked, stepping closer to her.
Buffy sighed. Even though Willow was her best friend and had dealt with the whole slayer thing for several years, she still didn’t get it sometimes. “Will, telepathic or not, I’m still the slayer. I can’t just sit around and let the vamps get all crazy. Besides, the perception reversal spell didn’t work, so obviously, that’s not what happened.”
“No, but . . . Well, you can hear Spike’s thoughts, but not mine or Giles’s or, well, anyone else at the school. What’s the difference between Spike and, say, oh, the entire human population? The being dead factor. Obviously that has something to do with it, and maybe that means you can read other dead guy’s thoughts, too.”
Buffy gave a little one-armed shrug. “Not so bad, really, if I can. I mean, it won’t be too distracting, as long as I’m not stuck in a room with them. Maybe it’ll help me fight. ‘Cause, you know, they’ll be thinking about what they’re gonna do next. It might not actually be a bad thing.”
“Well, there is that, I guess,” Willow conceded. “Still, I just . . . I feel so bad, y’know? If I hadn’t have been so un-focus-y then . . . I mean, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to hear Spike’s thoughts, or any thoughts for that matter. I don’t want to know what people are thinking. And it’s all my fault that you can hear Spike’s, and, well, on the scale of thoughts I don’t wanna hear . . .”
Buffy reached forward and pressed her stake-free hand against Willow’s shoulder. “Don’t. Don’t start thinking like that. Your spells work Willow. Look, this whole thing, it might not even be--” A bush beside the walk-path rustled slightly, and she stood in front of Willow, raising her stake.
Riley walked out. As soon as she saw him, she quickly put her hand behind her back, hiding the stake. Riley started fumbling with something on the back of his shirt, and he grinned at her. “Hi, Riley!” Buffy greeted, and she cringed when she realized how high-pitched her voice sounded.
“Buffy! Well, isn’t this a surprise! Seeing you . . . on campus . . . to the school we both go to,” he said, his smile slowly faltering with each word. He was wearing a black turtleneck thing with black slacks, and he was brushing off his clothes with the hand not behind his back.
Buffy nodded. “I know! Surprise,” she agreed, laughing feebly while she clutched the stake behind her back even tighter. “This is so . . . yeah, ‘cause of the popping out of the bushes thing, and the . . . night.”
He nodded, laughing, and she laughed too, although it was forced. Riley’s hand was behind his back, and she noticed he was shifting his weight onto his other foot repeatedly. He was always so nervous when he was around her. Any other time she would have found it cute, but at the moment, she was mostly hoping he didn’t notice she was obviously hiding something behind her back.
“So . . . What are you two doing out so late?” he asked, looking between the both of them.
“Oh, just . . . going back to the dorm,” Buffy lied, rolling one shoulder and tossing her hair out of her face. Then she realized that her dorm was actually behind her, and she was walking in the wrong direction. “Which is in the other way. ‘Cause . . . we’re going to a . . . party. At the Bronze. A friend party at the Bronze, and then we’re going back to the dorms, and . . . What are you doing out?”
“Oh, just walking. I just love a good stroll. At night.”
“Oh, yeah, me too, I totally get that!” Buffy agreed. “Right, Will? Aren’t we just always strolling at night?”
Willow nodded quickly, and Buffy realized that her and Riley were circling each other slowly, continuing to face each other although they were walking past the other. Willow was standing close to Buffy’s back, as if trying to shield the stake from sight in case someone was behind her. “Oh, yeah, Buffy and I are . . . are so hip to that! The-the walking,” she stated, nodding and laughing every now and then.
Riley nodded. “Yeah. Well, I’ve gotta . . . go stroll in that direction. You two be careful and, uh . . . have fun at the Bronze.”
Buffy realized they had fully circled each other, and her back was facing the direction she needed to go. “Uh-huh. You too. With walking.”
“I will. See you two in Psych tomorrow.”
Buffy laughed at the same time Riley did. He was nodding and smiling at her. “Okay. See you then, Riley.”
“Bye, Buffy, Willow.”
She turned around quickly at the same time she moved her stake in front of her so he wouldn’t see it. Her heart was beating weakly in her chest and her fingers clutched the stake tighter. She heard Riley walking away from her, and she didn’t talk again until the sounds of his boots against the cement disappeared.
“That was close,” Buffy said, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, boy, you’re tellin’ me,” Willow agreed. “Speakin’ of good ol’ Riley . . . How’s that goin’ for you? Is there kissage? ‘Cause you can tell me if there’s kissage.”
“Not yet. We’re still kinda in the tentative stage. You know, when you’re not sure if you’re actually dating yet, or if you’re still flirting with purpose, or if there’s an actual direction you’re going, or . . . if you should run away in the opposite direction as fast as you can before you ruin the poor guy’s life.”
Willow frowned, then put her hand on Buffy’s arm. “Oh, Buffy, don’t think like that. He’s a nice guy, and you should totally go for it. It’s not like you haven’t dated someone who didn’t know you were the slayer before.”
“Ah, yes, ‘cause Owen, Scott, and Parker totally went well.” Buffy looked down at the sidewalk, then glared at the stake she clutched in her hand. “It’s just . . . I like him, I do, but . . . Well, this is my life. Slaying, you guys, demons . . . and if I did go on date with him, what then? I could never be close with him, not without telling him what I am, and I . . . I don’t want to put him in danger. And it’s just, I don’t know him well enough to know if I should . . . if I should take that chance with him yet.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re still in the tentative-flirting-kinda-dating stage ‘cause this is the perfect time to get to know a guy.”
Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I guess, it’s just . . . well, I’ve already had to lie to him because of Sunnydale weirdness . . .”
She heard a growl and a vampire stood in front of her path, his eyes glowing yellow. “Slayer,” he snarled.
“And speaking of Sunnydale weirdness,” Buffy muttered, then charged at him.
She blocked each punch he threw her way with ease; not because she could hear his thoughts, but because he was obviously a fledging that couldn’t fight. She toyed with him a bit longer than necessary, trying to search his mind, listening for any thoughts, but none came to her. It was blissfully silent in her head.
She finally staked him, allowing him to settle into dust around her. Sighing, she turned back to Willow. “Anything?” Willow asked, pointing at Buffy’s head.
She shook her head. “Zip. Maybe it just took awhile to wear off. Or maybe Spike’s thoughts are just annoyingly stubborn like him.”
Willow fell into step beside Buffy, walking slowly beside her. “I’m so sorry Buffy. First I screw up the Will It So spell, and now, well . . .”
Buffy shook her head and sighed. “Come on. You didn’t screw up the Will It So spell. It worked perfectly. And you’re not even sure it was you who made me hear Spike’s thoughts. It could’ve been something else. I mean, that truth spell you did, it probably didn’t even do anything. You don’t know which spells are gonna work on different demons and humans. It probably didn’t even work on him ‘cause he’s a vampire, and the whole hearing his thoughts thing could be totally unrelated. You heard Giles, you don’t know how each spell is gonna affect . . .” she trailed off.
Apparently, Willow was getting the same idea Buffy was, because she slowed to a stop and her wide eyes met Buffy’s. Her mouth slowly dropped into a tiny O. “You don’t think . . .” Willow started, her eyebrows knitting together in worry.
Buffy nodded. “I totally think.”