CHAPTER 5
Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya walked out of the Bronze where the witches bade goodnight to the other couple then set off to their dorm, hand in hand. They had turned down Xander’s offer of a ride home saying they wanted to enjoy the cool night air and have a moonlight stroll.
As soon as they turned the corner, Willow turned to her girlfriend and gave her an apologetic smile. “You don’t mind walking, do you, sweetie?” she asked a little hesitantly.
“No, it’s fine,” she replied with a soft smile of her own.
Willow looked relieved. “Oh good, because was it just me or was Anya worse than usual tonight? I mean, has that bump on her head just finely tuned her apparently natural born ability to ignore convention and take rudeness to a whole new level or was it just the cocktails talking?”
Tara knew Willow and Anya had never got on very well and tonight had been especially trying for the redhead as Anya had attempted to find out what the two witches got up to in their bedroom.
“I’m gonna go with the cocktails,” Tara answered, chuckling at her lover’s consternation. "Although, if you want to be absolutely sure you could always give her another knock to the head and see if her affliction gets any worse."
Willow lost her annoyed look as the mental picture Tara's dry sense of humour had evoked caused a wide grin to spread across her face. "Oh Goddess, that is so tempting," she commented on a wistful sigh.
The witches shared another laugh and walked on in silence just absorbing the calm that surrounded them. It was rare that the Hellmouth allowed such a respite and the lovers wanted to enjoy every bit they could get.
***********************
Spike stumbled and leaned heavily against the alley wall for support, pressing his hand to his side to try and ease the pain. The Monu demons had fought well and the vampire now sported three deep gashes down his left side where the leader had managed to get a clawed hand to him.
That was the last thing the demon had done though as, seconds later, anger drawn from the stinging lacerations had sent adrenaline surging through Spike's body like a tidal wave. With a murderous roar, he had caught the leader roughly in a headlock then viciously snapped his neck and watched the body fall to the ground in grinning satisfaction.
He'd immediately turned to the remaining Monu who, obviously not liking his chances, had beat a hasty retreat.
Knowing he wasn't in any condition to fight should the Monu come back with some more of his friends, Spike had then grabbed his unopened bottle of booze and left the bar.
Twenty minutes and two thirds of a bottle later, the effects of the wound and the alcohol were starting to take their toll. The gashes were already beginning to heal but he needed blood badly and the nearest source was in his crypt.
Turning slightly so that his back now rested against the wall, the vampire had every intention of moving on, but his legs had other ideas as they gave out completely and he found himself in an undignified heap on the littered ground.
"Bollocks," he muttered as he raised the bottle to his mouth and yanked out the stopper with his teeth then spat it out across the alleyway. He greedily drank the remaining contents then dropped his arm, the bottle clanging loudly as it hit the concrete.
As the noise echoed around the alley, Spike let his head drop back against the wall and wished fervently for another bottle, knowing that what he'd already consumed wasn't going to be enough to blot out his mind tonight.
Closing his eyes, he released the bottle and raised his hand, running it tiredly over his face. He needed to get to his crypt. Now.
Wincing, he forced himself up and started walking again not sensing the man that followed silently behind, staying deep in the shadows.
***********************
The witches approached the end of the road they were walking along and Tara was surprised when, instead of turning right to head back to their dorm, Willow came to a stop and glanced left.
"I think we should go check up on Buffy. Make sure she's OK," the redhead explained. "You know, being that she didn't make it to the Bronze tonight. I mean anything could've happened on patrol."
"And…?" Tara prompted, noticing that her girlfriend couldn't quite look at her.
"A…And, what?" the redhead asked, trying to act nonchalant as she glanced at Tara then looked away.
"And you want to talk to her about Spike, don't you?" the fair-haired girl supplied intuitively.
"No!" Willow exclaimed, striving for vehemence. At Tara's knowing grin, the witch sighed. "Yeah, OK, maybe just a little."
"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't interfere, sweetie?" Tara reminded her quietly. "We have no real idea what feelings, if any, Buffy has for Spike."
"I know, but it wouldn't be interfering. Really," she insisted at Tara's doubtful look. "I just think Buffy could use a couple of friends to talk to in case she wants to…talk…you know…about…someone.” The redhead visibly brightened. “Plus, Dawn's staying over at one of her friend's tonight and with Xander not around to make any stupid comments it'd be perfect."
"You've had this planned the whole evening, haven’t you?" Tara accused lightly.
“Actually, it was the last couple of days,” the redhead admitted sheepishly.
Tara couldn’t help but laugh and tightened her grip on her lovers hand. “OK, let’s go and see if Buffy wants to talk about someone.”
Willow grinned and the couple walked off in the opposite direction of their dorm.
*****************************
The man could almost taste the emotional pain that the vampire slowly walking in front of him was emitting. It came off the blond in waves and each one that rolled over him just made his craving increase.
Lana’s essence would see him through for a couple of days but the vampire’s would sustain him for weeks, he just knew it.
Another wave hit his senses completely obliterating any plans he had to wait a while before making his move. The blond was weak and vulnerable – just perfect.
Increasing his speed, he drew ever closer to Spike and then, suddenly, he froze. Raising his head a little he tested the air and recoiled at what he felt.
Warmth. Friendship. Love. Human.
His face twisted into as much of a disgusted expression as the ravaged countenance would allow and immediately turned away.
Now was not the time, but he could wait.
*********************
As he reached the end of the alley, Spike’s step faltered slightly when he heard a noise behind him. Thinking that it had to be someone following him and, realising he was at a disadvantage, he decided his best option was to run. His wound, however, protested vigorously at the mere thought of such an exertion and so he went for the only other option he could think of – confrontation.
Praying that it wasn’t the Monu back with some friends, he turned abruptly. Hooking a thumb in the waistband of his jeans, he raised his chin defiantly and assumed a cocky stance, ignoring the pain that lanced through him at the action.
“Right then,” he began, then paused, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the alleyway.
It was empty. Or so it appeared.
Automatically, he strained his heightened senses trying to catch the slightest hint of…anything…that could give him an idea of what had caused the noise. He could feel something but it seemed to stay just on the outer edges of his awareness, like a cobra waiting to strike.
“Look, I know you’re there, so why don’t you just show yourself and we can get this little show on the road, eh?” he called out, his tone impassive.
Body tensed, his eyes darted from one side of the alley to the other trying to gauge from which of the many shadows zigzagging across the passageway an attack might come.
Inexplicably, a cold dread began to edge its way up his spine and he suddenly decided that retreat was probably the wisest way to go after all – wound or no wound.
“Well, since you’re too coward to face me, I’ll be on my merry way then,” he goaded, the demon in him unable to resist a last taunt. "Things to see, people to eat."
Still keeping a lookout, the vampire took a step backwards and then another. One more then he unexpectedly felt a hand grab his right forearm. Pure instinct had him swing around and grasp the hand, twisting it sharply up behind the creature’s back.
Belatedly, he heard someone call his name and realised that he’d made a mistake. A shriek of pain echoed around the street swiftly followed by blinding pain to his brain. Crying out, he immediately released his hold and clutched at his head before sinking to his knees in agony.
******************************
The man watched the fallen vampire from his vantage point in the shadows wondering what had happened to make him crumble so suddenly.
His gaze fell upon the two human females who where looking down at the blond and his eyebrows rose as he become conscious of the power that surged between them.
"Witches," he breathed unhappily. They had evidently incapacitated the vampire and would no doubt kill him now. 'What a waste,' he thought to himself in dismay. He'd had such high hopes for the creature. With a soft sigh, he turned and silently walked away, mentally bemoaning his luck at not having made his move a few minutes earlier.
******************************
Willow and Tara stared down at the stricken vampire sympathetically. They knew there was nothing they could do to help him when the chip kicked in so they waited. When the worst of the pain seemed to have passed, Willow crouched down beside the blond and smiled gently.
Spike immediately raised his head and stared at her, trying to get his eyes to focus once more.
"You OK now?" she asked.
"It's me that should be asking that question, Red," he replied gruffly when the pain in his head had subsided to a dull enough throb that allowed him to speak. "Didn't realise it was you. Sorry."
"Oh, don't worry," she assured him brightly as she gingerly moved her arm. "It's just a little numb, but once the blood starts circulating again it'll be good as new."
At the word 'blood', Spike's eyes instantly dropped down to her neck and he involuntarily licked his lips. His need for food was rapidly overwhelming him and he saw the ticking of her pulse increase as she realised what he was staring at and pulled back slightly. Though he knew it was wrong, he couldn't help but feel a little pleased he could still provoke a small amount of fear within people, even in his neutered state.
Mouth watering, he could almost taste the warm, coppery goodness going down and used every ounce of his willpower to force back his inner demon. Tearing his gaze away from her neck, he stood jerkily then distanced himself slightly, looking everywhere but at the witches directly.
"Gotta go," he mumbled, turning away.
"But Spike, you're hurt," came Tara's concerned voice having caught a glimpse of his injury.
"It's nothing, just a scratch," he dismissed as he began walking away. "Be right as rain as soon I as reach my crypt and get some blood in me."
He stumbled a little and the two witches shared a concerned glance before rushing forward and standing either side of vampire, each grabbing an arm to steady him.
Spike tensed readying himself to shake them off, but Tara stopped him cold when she softly said, "Let us help you, Spike. We know you’ll heal well enough on your own but a little bit of antiseptic and gauze won’t hurt. It's what we’d do for any friend of ours if they were hurt."
Stunned at her words, he gazed into her gentle eyes searching out the truth. "Friend?" he repeated softly.
"Well, yeah. After the way you've helped Buffy, Dawn, me and the rest of the gang recently, I think I can safely say that we are friends, aren't we?"
The vampire didn't know what to say. Although the witches had visited him recently, he'd assumed that it was merely to check up on the wounds he'd sustained during the battle with Glory. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind that they were coming to see him because they actually wanted to.
Could it be true? Did she consider him, an evil vampire, as her friend?
With a jolt, he saw the sincerity shining back from the azure depths and realised that she did mean it. Incredulously, he turned to Willow and saw the same honesty reflected in her own gaze.
Swallowing hard, he fought back the emotion that suddenly threatened to choke him. 'Too much drink and not enough blood', he told himself, trying to justify what he considered was a pathetic reaction to their offer of acceptance. Because that's what it was, a little bit of acceptance in the world he was desperately trying to avoid.
And despite his promise to himself, he grabbed the opportunity with both hands. His body relaxed and he finally nodded his acquiescence - to letting them help him and to silently admitting that he was their friend too.
The trio walked to Spike's crypt as quickly as the vampire could manage. Once inside, they soon had him sitting on the top of a sarcophagus in the corner.
While Tara brought over the meagre first aid supplies, Spike had scrounged from various places, Willow grabbed a couple of bags of blood from his fridge and watched as he devoured them within seconds.
"More?" she asked.
Spike felt the pig's blood flow through his body, slowly restoring his strength. "No," he replied, then paused and added hesitantly, "thanks."
Willow smiled in response then helped him out of his duster and T-shirt. "Seems like we've been here before," she commented wryly.
Spike smiled then looked down in concern when both women suddenly gasped as the severity of the wound was revealed to their eyes.
“Oh Goddess,” Tara breathed, staring at the jagged gashes that marred his pale skin as she began to clean them. “It looks bad. What happened?”
“Had a little tussle with a Monu demon at Willy's place,” he told them with a careless shrug. “Could’ve been worse, their claws pretty much go through anything. If I hadn’t dodged in time, he would’ve sliced me in two. Won’t be slicing anything from now on though. Snapped his neck good and proper.”
“Good. I wouldn’t have fancied meeting him on a dark night,” said Willow reaching out and giving the longest tear a gentle prod to see if it was still weeping.
“Ow! I said it wasn’t that bad, not that it didn’t bloody hurt!” he exclaimed, jerking away from her hand.
“Sorry,” the redhead offered contritely, dabbing at where a little blood escaped from the wound.
“Yeah, well, don’t give up the day job, Red,” he grumbled with a scowl. “Florence bleedin’ Nightingale, you ain’t and I should know, I met her once.”
“You met Florence Nightingale?” Willow queried in disbelief.
“Course.” At the redhead’s sceptical look, Spike added, “Look, where there’s nurses, there’s blood, right? And where there’s blood…”
“Ugh, please don’t say anything more,” she pleaded in disgust. “Next you’ll be telling me you met Jack the Ripper or something.”
“Actually, I did,” he informed her seriously as she stared at him mouth agape. “Not my cup of tea. All that slicing and dicing; total waste of perfectly good blood. Didn’t do to have him around spoiling the hunt, so…” Spike raised his hand and made a slashing motion across his throat.
Both Wicca’s had stopped their ministrations and were looking at him aghast.
“You mean, you’re the reason that the killings stopped and…and why the Ripper was never caught?” Willow asked in amazement.
Spike couldn’t hold back the chuckle any longer. “No pet, but seeing the look on both your faces makes me really wish I was. Even the Bit didn't fall for that one.”
The women tutted and muttered about the shortcomings of men to each other as they resumed their task.
The vampire chuckled again then fell silent as he thought back to the time when he had regaled Dawn with tales from his past. It had been one of the few pleasant times he could remember that hadn't involved the death of someone at the end of it. He missed the closeness. And her.
The guilt he'd been successfully keeping at bay since his fight returned to settle heavily on his shoulders once more. Fearing he was dangerously close to brooding, Spike voiced a question that he knew would ultimately bring the conversation around to a subject that had been bothering him since he’d declined Buffy’s invite earlier that evening. "So, did you and the rest of the gang enjoy yourselves at the Bronze tonight?"
The witches glanced at each other, knowing full well that the 'rest of the gang' he spoke about was Buffy.
"Yeah, it was the usual," Willow replied casually. "You know, drinking, dancing, more drinking, more dancing."
"Dancing, eh?" Spike snorted, feeling a pang of jealousy around his unbeating heart as he once again conjured up the image of Buffy and a faceless man bumping and grinding against each other to a heavy beat. "The Slayer enjoy herself, did she?”
‘No doubt picked herself out some pathetic twat to toy with for a couple of hours before walking away and leaving the poor git so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days,’ he added bitterly to himself.
“Buffy didn’t turn up,” Tara replied nonchalantly as she began to wrap a tatty bandage around his middle.
"She didn't go?" he questioned with a frown. She'd seemed so keen when she'd asked him along that he was surprised but, if he were honest, not a little relieved that his imaginings hadn't come to fruition.
“No. We were on our way to her house to see if she was OK, when we saw you,” Willow supplied as she taped up the end of the bandage and gave it a gentle tap as if to say, 'You're done'. "I'm assuming that since you haven't mentioned anything, she didn’t get hurt on patrol?”
“No, she was fine when I last saw her,” he replied, not admitting to the fact that he’d followed her to her door for fear that they’d think he’d started stalking her again.
Running his hand over the bandage, he gave them a smile of gratitude then pushed himself off the sarcophagus and landed lightly on the floor. Reaching for his ruined t-shirt, he roughly pulled it on and added jokingly, “Course, I could be lying and have her tied up downstairs, half drained, just waiting for you two to go so I can finish her off…”
His words trailed off when he saw them glance worriedly over at the hole in the middle of the crypt and felt his good humour give way to annoyance. “Oh for God’s sake, she’s not really there, OK?” he snapped irately.
“Oh! I know,” Willow hurriedly assured the vampire as she felt a telltale flush of warmth on her cheeks. “You mentioned the hole and I kinda just, automatically looked over at it.”
“Me too,” Tara concurred, her face also carrying a slight reddish hue.
Spike stared at them for a moment and couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that they’d believed him. They could deny it, but from their faces he knew that for one split second, they were actually worried that he really did have Buffy tied up downstairs. And because of that split second, he also now knew that they’d never, ever trust him completely. And they knew it too.
There was an uncomfortable silence then Spike gestured over to his fridge. “I would offer you a drink but all I have is blood,” he said coolly.
“No, that’s fine, we’d better be going anyway,” Willow decided, nodding towards the door.
Spike nodded and headed over to the door then was surprised when Tara invited hopefully, “If…if you want to join us at the Bronze one night, you’re more than welcome, you know.”
Fingers grasping the door handle, the vampire kept his back to them and bowed his head as he quietly replied, “Thanks pet, but I don’t think so. I’m a demon, remember? I belong in that world, not yours.”
“But that’s nonsense,” she replied, looking to Willow for support.
“Absolutely,” the redhead concurred.
Spike let out a derisive chuckle and raised his head to stare at the door. “Two weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with you but after I let Doc beat me, that’s when I realised.”
“Realised what?” Tara prodded when he fell silent.
The vampire let out a heavy sigh. “Realised that everything you Scoobies had ever said about me…to me, was true…”
“What?!” Willow exclaimed in surprise, effectively cutting him off. Then the slight tremor she’d heard in his voice registered and she moved closer determined to contest his words and offer consolation. “Spike, I’m sorry. I wish I could take back what I’ve said over the years but I can’t. All I can say is that I know you’re not the same vampire you were back then. You’ve changed. For the better. And…and you didn't let Doc beat you. Dawnie was there. She told us everything. You did what you could…”
“Wasn’t good enough though, was it?” he interrupted bitterly. “Just like me.”
“But, Spike…” the witch tried again, not sure how to get through to him.
“No, Red. As much as I wish there was, there’s nothing you can say that will change what happened that day,” he insisted. “I failed.”
The last was said so quietly, Willow and Tara had trouble hearing it but, when the words finally registered, the redhead immediately refuted them. “That’s not true,” she told him forcefully, horrified that he thought like that.
“No?” he challenged, finally raising his head to look at her, the look of abject misery on his face shocking the witch. “I think there’s a four inch slit in Dawn’s stomach that proves you wrong!”
“Spike,” Willow tried to mollify as she reached out and touched his arm in an effort to ease his self-inflicted suffering.
The vampire savagely jerked away then yanked the door open and stepped back. "Thanks for cleaning me up tonight, Red," he said tautly, then turned to Tara and nodded. "Glinda. Best not hold you up any longer."
The women hesitated but the vampire’s face told them that he had nothing more to say on the subject. Knowing from Buffy’s experience’s with him that he could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted, they bade him goodnight then walked out of the crypt.
Spike stood with the door open for a few moments, listening to their footsteps fade away. When they were almost out of hearing range, he grabbed his duster, put it on then made his way out into the night after them.
Keeping a lengthy distance between them, he followed them to Buffy’s house where, judging by her rumpled appearance, they had awoken a heavily sleeping Slayer. The witches spoke to her briefly on the doorstep before heading back to their dorm.
Once he knew they were safely inside, he walked into town. Using his game face, he acquired some cigarettes and alcohol from a nearby store then headed back to his crypt. It took a good three bottles before oblivion finally claimed him.
END CHAPTER 5
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