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Chapter 32: Innocence (Part 1 of )

Warning: The next several chapters are much darker and violent than the preceding ones have been. Spike is going to do some not nice things and there is some Spike/Drusilla

A/N My laptop has been damaged, where I had all the e-mail addresses of people who wanted updates by e-mail. So I’ve lost all those addresses. If you were on that list, sorry that you didn’t get told about this update, and please send me your e-mail again so I can reconstruct the list. My e-mail is icemink@mac.com.

Slowly, bit by bit, it all fell away. The pain, the confusion, the disgust and loathing that had been a constant part of Spike's life since he had regained his soul. It was hard to feel any of that when he was cloaked in Buffy's scent and covered with her warmth.

He looked at her sleeping face, where she lay curled in his arms, and for the first time in his existence he felt truly loved. Peace settled over him and he was still.

Suddenly there was pain, like he was being ripped apart inside. He pulled himself up and away from the bed, careful not to disturb her. The pain intensified and he fell to his knees. Not knowing what was wrong, but not wanting to worry Buffy, he stumbled out of the small flat into the night.

As the cool, welcoming evening greeted him, he screamed. It was as if a fiery hand was ripping something out of him. Then it was gone. The pain subsided, and he was still again.

"Hey? You okay?" a woman asked, looking at him warily. "You want me to call 911?"

He rose slowly to his feet. Not because he was unsure, but because he was remembering. Remembering what it was to be a vampire. For a hundred years the demon within him had been caged, forced to sit on the sidelines with no control of the life he led. Now it was free again.

He moved on pure instinct. He was across the alley in the blink of an eye and his fangs descended into the woman's tender neck. Her body convulsed for just a second, then he let her go. Her body hit the ground with a wet thud. She was already forgotten by Spike. Hot human blood coursed through his body. There was no guilt, no shame. Killer, murderer, demon. The words greeted him like old friends.

And there, deep down, he could feel her. Drusilla. Calling to him. It wasn't new. The call of his sire had never vanished, but he had learned the hard way that he would not be welcomed home. Things were different now.

He had nearly left the alley when he stepped on a broken bottle and cut his foot. Annoyed, he returned to his flat to dress. As he went back inside he tried to avoid looking at the sleeping figure on his bed, but her heartbeat called to him.

He stood over her, looking down at her innocent sleeping form. He could reach out and snap her neck before she knew what happened. Or, he could crawl back in the bed with her and simply sink his fangs into her. She would wake, but it would be too late. She'd be too weak. He'd hold her captive in his arms as the life drained out of her into him.

But he didn't do either of those things. His hand hovered above her for long moments. Then he turned away and grabbed his duster. He started to put it on, then stopped. Nikki's coat. The symbol of the tragic farce that he had lived for the last hundred years. He threw the coat back on the floor and left his old life behind.

Instinct was driving him again. She was out there, calling to him, brining him home. He found himself at a factory. A fledgling was doing a poor job of standing guard. The young vampire saw and recognized Spike a moment to late.

Spike punched the minion sending him through the door he had been guarding.

"Good to know some things never change," Spike announced as he stepped over the body of the fledgling. "It's still hard to find good help."

"Spike!" Angelus shouted.

Spike couldn't help but smile when he saw that his grandsire was bound to a wheelchair.

"Do we have any guards at all?" Angelus shouted.

"William?" Drusilla asked. "He's come back. My knight has come back."

She clapped her hands and dashed up the stairs. She threw her arms around Spike.

"Daddy, look. We're a family again."

Spike grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hard.

"That's right, baby. I'm back," he told her.

He took her hand and led her down the stairs and looked around.

"What's with the funny boxes?" he asked.

"They're for my party," Drusilla said. "It's going to be the best party, the last party."

Spike moved to open one of the oddly shaped boxes and look inside, when Angelus reached over and stopped him.

"Now how do we know it's really you, me boy?"

Spike looked around the room, finding the source of the erratic heartbeat he heard. A young girl was huddled in one corner. There were no chains holding her; they weren't needed. She was too terrified to move. Spike hauled the girl to her feet and sunk his fangs into her neck.

Drusilla pulled on his arm. "Now, now. None of that. She's for Daddy. Don't you know what happens when you take Daddy's treats?"

He released the sobbing girl.

"Just making a point, Dru," he reassured her.

Angelus laughed. "Well, it seems we have cause to celebrate after all."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Buffy stretched as she slowly came awake. As she remembered where she was she rolled over looking for Spike. The warm satisfied feeling she had began to dissipate as she realized he wasn't there.

She pulled the blanket up off the bed and wrapped it around her as she looked around the small apartment for Spike. He wasn't there. She returned to the bedroom to retrieve her clothes. As she began searching out her clothes, she stumbled across Spike's duster lying on the floor. Panic filled her; Spike never went anywhere without his duster.

She picked it up and shook it out. She clutched it to her and ran through the apartment again. This time she wasn't looking for a vampire, but a pile of dust. To her relief, although there was some dust, it wasn't enough - or piled the right way - to account for a vampire.

She finished getting dressed and started to head outside when she realized that the sun had just come up and that she wouldn't find him out there. She knew there was a sewer entrance from within the apartment building, but she had no way of tracking Spike through the sewers, if that was even where he'd gone.

Feeling helpless, Buffy retreated back inside and sat in Spike's armchair. She hugged his duster close to her and breathed in its scent. Leather and smoke and Spike. She didn't know whether the coat smelled like him or he smelled like the coat. It was supposed to comfort her. The scent, the texture. But it didn't. Instead, Buffy's mind spun helplessly from one horrible scenario to another.

Time dragged by at a monstrously slow pace and there was no sign of Spike. Finally Buffy realized that it was late enough in the day that if she didn't get home soon, her mother would realized that she had been out all night. Reluctantly, she left Spike's place and headed home.

The rest of the day passed in a worried haze. Buffy got home and made sure to make an appearance in her pajamas, so her mother wouldn't suspect she'd been out all night. She hung around her house long enough to grab some lunch, then she disappeared into the bright streets of Sunnydale to search for her missing lover.

She went all over town. Visited everyone whom she knew Spike knew. Even if she couldn't possibly come up with a reason why Spike would visit Xander's house, she checked anyway. No one had seen him. She broadened her search to the demon bars, and anyplace she thought Spike might possibly visit. There was still no sign of him.

Finally, exhausted, she returned to his apartment. Her only hope left was that he would come back soon. Of course she knew that he was unlikely to return before sundown. She hoped and prayed that he'd just been trapped somewhere by the rising sun.

After hours spent jumping at the smallest sound in hopes that it would be Spike, she almost didn't notice when the door opened.

"SPIKE!" she cried with relief as she vaulted his furniture to envelop him in a hug.

"Hey, pet. Something up?" he asked.

She released him from the hug to look up into his eyes.

"I've been worried sick about you. Where have you been? I was so worried."

"Got trapped by the sun. Didn't mean to worry you."

"Where'd you go? Why'd you leave?" Suddenly she was worried that she was being too pushy. Too controlling. She didn't want to become the psycho-girlfriend who always had to keep tabs on her boyfriend.

"Just needed some air. Space to think. Last night. . . it was a life changing sort of thing, wasn't it?"

Buffy smiled in relief. "Yeah, it really was. So it was good and all?"

"Bloody amazing."

"I'm sorry about the wiggins. I was just scared I'd lost you. I don't want to be apart from you. Ever."

She hugged him again.

"Don't worry, Buffy," he whispered into her hair. "We're going to be together forever," he murmured as the back of his hand ran down her throat.





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