Spike allowed her to roll down her window and look out as they drove down the L.A. streets, and Buffy watched as the scenery of the city that she had lived in for most of her life moved past them. It was all so familiar, yet she felt no connection to anything, no sense of relief just from being home. Los Angeles wasn't home to her, despite the fact she'd grown up there, and Buffy realized with sadness that she really didn't have a place that she could truly call home.
She didn't remember a time even when she had.
Howard had tried. He'd kept them in California instead of moving them to England because he thought it would be easier for her that way. But their apartment had never seemed like more than borrowed space, had never had the sense of warmth to it that Buffy associated with the idea of home. Howard had cared about her, she was sure, and she had cared about him, too, but there was always a sense she got from him that when it came right down to it, she was an obligation. He took care of her not because he'd wanted to raise a daughter, but because as Joyce's Watcher, he felt as if caring for her child after her death was his duty.
It was nothing Buffy had ever held against him. He'd given her the things she needed and had never been cruel to her. He was an older man, a well-established bachelor, and she couldn't blame him for not being overly thrilled by the idea of having a small child to raise on his own. She was simply grateful that he had.
"This was your old neighborhood, wasn't it, pet?"
Buffy turned sharply towards Spike, startled that he had spoken. He'd been surprisingly silent for most of their car trips. "It is. You remember that?"
"I set myself up near the Slayer, so I was staying around here, too," Spike replied. "So yeah, I remember where it was. I thought it would probably be a good place to start looking."
"They found her not far from our apartment, I think," Buffy said.
"Good place to start then. We should probably wait until tomorrow, though. There's not enough hours of dark left to really get anything accomplished."
"Yeah, okay. We'll head out tomorrow right after dusk."
Spike glanced at her for a second. "I'll head out."
Buffy's back grew straight. "Look, I know you have this whole caveman 'gotta protect my mate' thing going on, but she was my mother, Spike. I'm not just going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while you search for her killer alone."
"And I'm not asking you to, Buffy. But for what I have planned for tomorrow night, it'll be a lot easier to do without a human tagging along, since that'll raise more than a few questions. So unless you're keen on either me turning you or you blowing any chance I have of getting someone to talk, I suggest you let me do this part on my own."
"I don't like either of those options," Buffy said, her arms crossed in front of her.
"Somehow, I'm not surprised by that." Spike sighed. "Look, pet, I don't like the idea of going out and leaving you alone like this either. Probably not for the same reasons you don't, but it's still not something I'm overly thrilled about. So believe me when I say that I want you to stay behind because it's the best way to do what I need to do to try to turn up some leads."
"And what if you do find a lead, huh? Am I supposed to just sit around and wait some more while you follow it?"
Spike's jaw ticked. For most of the trip to L.A., Buffy had been, well, pleasant and agreeable, surprisingly. He should've known that wasn't going to last…
"It depends on what sort of lead it is. I might have to be on my own for a while."
"Won't me being your mate keep other demons from questioning why I'm with you?" Buffy asked.
"No," Spike answered. "That'll just make them question it more. A vampire running around town with a human mate is not exactly something you see every day. And there's probably more than a few vampires who wouldn't talk to me at all if they saw I had a human mate. For other vamps, it means I'm tainted."
"You're tainted? With what?"
"Humanity. Most vamps don't have much of it, and they don't like the ones that do," Spike explained. "I've dealt with it since I was turned, used to try to fight it by being the biggest and the baddest. No one could call me out for still feeling something if they were afraid of me. But claiming you has killed that for me, so I'm going to have to get respect enough from my kind to get them talking to me with reputation and intimidation alone. And you, hanging around me with your big green eyes and beating pulse, wouldn't help much in that."
"Oh." Buffy frowned hard as she thought about what Spike had just said. "I'm not understanding the whole 'tainted with humanity' issue," she told him after a few moments.
Spike almost sighed, but managed to hold it in. And why didn't that surprise him one bit? "Vampires, like humans, are all different. The Watchers' Council likes to tell its girls that we're all the same animal, just wearing human skin now. Like the person inside dies completely and the demon is all that goes on. But if that really were the case, then why would a vampire retain all the memories from being human? Seems to me that if we were just demons, those wouldn't exactly stick around. Not a lot of use for memories of a human life if you're about nothing but blood lust."
"So you're telling me you're the exact same guy you were when you were human, just with fangs now?"
Buffy was surprised when Spike responded to her question with a laugh. "Hardly. It's been over a century for me, Buffy. Of course I've changed in that period of time. And yeah, becoming a vampire does change you, too. You loose your soul, that's true. You're not worrying about what's right and wrong anymore because it doesn't matter. Vampires live outside of society, so social morals—not an issue. But the core of who you are, that doesn't change. If you can love deeply in life, then you can still love deeply in death." Spike turned towards Buffy for a moment as he spoke the last bit, letting her know in no uncertain terms what he meant.
Buffy chose not to respond directly to that. Instead, she asked, "Then why is retaining humanity seen as a taint to vampires? I mean, if what you're saying is true, then shouldn't most vampires still have this?"
Spike laughed again. "Wow, you have quite a high opinion of the human race, pet. You think all of you are kind and full of love, deep down inside? Please. Most of you want to kill each other off with souls. At least vampires have the need for blood as an excuse."
"That isn't true," Buffy snapped. "Most people don't want to kill each other."
"Ever been stuck in traffic?"
"You're just all…jaded and evil," Buffy said, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"Humans are just as capable of real evil as any demon. Trust me. I've seen enough of it in my time."
"I'm not saying humans are perfect, and I'm not saying they don't do bad things. But we're not like demons," Buffy argued.
"You just keep telling yourself if it makes you feel better. But I've seen a lot in my time, Buffy, and I've learned a thing or two about the human psyche. Most of them are just waiting for an opportunity to let their inner darkness loose. They're one slip of conscience away from a killing spree. I bet if just about any human had the chance to kill at least someone without ever getting punished for it, they would."
"No. Some would, but not all of us."
"Didn't say all. Said most."
Buffy shook her head emphatically. "You just think that because of what you are. But it isn't true. Vampires are the way they are because they're demons, not because they've lost their conscience and now they can be all kill-happy just like they've always wanted to be."
"You know what the first act of a vampire often is? They go kill the people they most wanted to kill in life. Hell, Angelus murdered his entire village. Conscience gone, rules of society gone—you're free to act out on all those base impulses you've had to keep locked up for years."
"Then what was your first act as a vampire?"
Suddenly, Spike's entire demeanor changed. He withdrew from her, his body going rigid. "That's none of your concern."
Buffy almost pushed it, almost demanded he answer her question. But then she caught something rolling off of him in waves through the claim. Pain. Whatever had happened, it had left a deep emotional scar on him, one that Buffy was afraid to pick. Instead, she turned back towards the window, hoping Spike would just let this conversation drop.
He did.
Buffy rarely dreamt about her mother, but that night she did. She supposed it had been the combined effect of returning to Los Angeles and renewing her efforts to find Joyce's killer that had brought the dreams into her mind.
At first, they'd been good. Happy memories of her mother's smile, of how it felt when she held her. Warm, foggy memories of the last time in her life when Buffy had thought she was safe and loved.
But then it had changed, the images playing in her mind's eye suddenly dark and bloodied. When she awoke, her throat was raw from screaming, her eyes hot with tears, and Spike had pulled her up and gathered her in his arms, trying to soothe the terrors that were plaguing her in her sleep.
She came fully awake, but she didn't say anything, nor did she try to lie back down. Instead, she cried against him, allowing his arms to be a haven.
When her tears finally slowed, and she looked up at him, Spike wiped her face with his thumb. "What was it, princess?"
"I dreamt about my mom," she told him. "I don't remember it very well, just that it…wasn't good at the end."
"Do you dream about her a lot?"
Buffy shook her head. "I used to. Well, it comes in spurts, I guess. Sometimes I'll have several dreams about her, and then sometimes I won't for months." Her eyes went away from his face again. "I don't mind when they're good dreams. It's almost like getting to see her again for a little bit."
Spike guided them back down to the bed, Buffy's head resting at the crook of his neck as he stroked her hair soothingly. "We'll find who did it, kitten. I won't let you down on this."
"You're helping me. That's more than anyone else has ever done." Buffy took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to still the last of her tears. "I told Howard before he died that I wanted to find who had killed my mother and get revenge, but he wouldn't even let me talk about it. He said that was part of the past, and I needed to move on, that that's the way my mother would want it, but I couldn't. I can't move on with anything until I put that part of my past to rest. It's always been something that's weighed on me. When I was four years old, my mother left and never came home, and I want to know why."
Despite her best efforts to stop them, Buffy felt tears coming to her eyes again, and she wrapped her arms tighter around Spike. "She used to promise me every night before she'd go out that she'd come home to me, that she'd be there in the morning to take care of me. I didn't understand it as much when I was little, didn't know fully what she was going out to do, but I knew it was serious, and I also knew that she meant it when she said she'd come home. She told me that the last night, too. I need to know what she faced that was so horrible she couldn't keep her promise to me anymore."
"Joyce was a good fighter. One of the best I'd ever seen," Spike told her. "I'd faced off against two Slayers before her, but she was the only one that ever fought like she really had something in this world she wanted to hold on to. She didn't take stupid chances, didn't let herself slip. She meant to keep her promise, Buffy. I know she did."
"She still seemed that way, even the last night?" Buffy asked.
Spike nodded. "Yeah."
"Tell me. What was that fight like? What happened?"
"There was this demon bloke, went by the name of Ashmalare. He had some great evil plan to bring about the end of the world, like the crazy ones tend to do, and this one involved the sacrifice of a vampire gifted with second sight. Well, his psychic vamp of choice turned out to be Drusilla, and he snagged her one night when we were out on a hunt. He overpowered me then, and I knew I couldn't take him on my own. Normally, I probably would've tried anyway, but I didn't want to take any chances where Dru was concerned, so I decided I'd get some help. It seemed to me that if Ashmalare had set up shop in L.A. that he had to be on Joyce's radar, too, so I went to her. Convinced her we'd have a better chance of killing the blighter if we went after him together."
"She just agreed?" Buffy asked. "Weren't you two like mortal enemies?"
"Yeah, we were, but our battles tended to end in a stalemate, and I think Joyce was ready to get rid of me. She couldn't ever seem to kill me, but I was a threat as long as I was around. So she made me agree to skip town and never come back after we finished off Ashmalare."
"And that's what you did?"
"I did," Spike replied. "This is the first time I've been in Los Angeles since that night. We stopped the world from ending, and Joyce was bloody amazing. All I did was offer a little distraction and take out some minions to cover her back, but she took Ashmalare head on, like a woman who knew she was going to win. And she did. Chopped him up into tiny pieces."
"Then you took Drusilla and left?"
"Yes. She was more out of it than usual, and I carried her to the car. Gave Joyce a nod to say good-bye, and that was it. I drove off and didn't look back."
"Do you think maybe Ashmalare wasn't dead?" Buffy asked. "Or maybe he still had some minions around that could've killed her?"
"I doubt Joyce would've been taken down by a minion, but it's possible. And I don't know about Ashmalare. He looked pretty dead, and it's hard to heal from being chunks, but there are certain kinds of demons that can. I don't know what kind he was beyond ugly nutjob." Spike cleared his throat. "Why exactly did you think it was me? Was it only because you'd seen me with her that night?"
"That's what the official Watchers' Council report said," Buffy replied. "I found a copy after Howard died, in his personal papers. It didn't go into detail, just gave the date and place of death and under cause it had William the Bloody, vampire. There was a small blurb about her being found with vampire marks on her neck and her blood drained, and that you were the vampire she fought that night."
"Watchers didn't get their facts straight then," Spike said. "But that's understandable since she didn't have her Watcher with her that night. Hard to make a full report when you don't see what happened."
"Yeah. Howard must've told them it was you because you'd been at our apartment."
"It's a logical conclusion," Spike conceded. "I would've thought the same thing, in his position."
Buffy nodded, then yawned. It was information overload, too much when her mind wasn't awake enough to process it all. All the pieces weren't seeming to fit together, and she wasn't in the right state to start trying to make them fit. "I'm too tired to work on theories right now. Tomorrow?"
Spike knew her well enough by now to know when she'd shut down. "Of course, pet." He kissed the top of her head. "Good night, Buffy. Love you."
Buffy snuggled against him, even as she ignored his declaration of love as she'd taken to doing recently. It was easier for her that way. "Good night."
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