Chapter Twelve
Xander was fuming, and not a little scared. He’d managed to get Jesse all tucked up in a hospital bed before wandering home, his head full of vampire flambé. Seeing bleached hair enter the library behind Buffy was like waving a red flag. Xander was out of his seat and jabbing furiously into Spike’s chest with his finger, emotion tying his voice up even as he spat out his hatred for the undead.
“Whoa!” Buffy gently shoved Xander away from her boyfriend, her eyes wide and disbelieving that her friends could possibly know Spike’s truth. How could they? They hadn’t believed Angel totally yesterday so it was quite a stretch that they suddenly did overnight. “What is going on here? I thought we were giving Spike the benefit of the doubt.”
Xander stood, agitated and confused as he glared holes into a suddenly wary Spike. “This whole soul thing is a great steaming pile of horse crap.” His arms crossed, he stared at the blonde couple and dared them to correct him.
“Oookay.” Was it bad that Buffy felt fearful that they knew the truth and would judge him? “What exactly brought this on?” God she hoped it was something else. Something other than the truth she’d spent the night processing and forgiving. Buffy took Spike’s hand, neither of them taking their eyes from the angry teen as Xander began to pace and throw out his arms in frustration.
“Creepy stalker guy, that’s what brought this on. He says he’s got a soul and he’s all good? Well, big on the NO to that one, folks. Either he’s lying or his soul isn’t worth the…I can’t think of a good way to finish that sentence, but he’s full of it, and I’m not talking of a nice shiny soul.” Xander practically threw himself back in his chair, his head falling forward hard to the wood of the table with a dull thump.
Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand and then slowly took an opposite seat and sat down. He felt suddenly very insecure—and worried about these kids getting on any side of his grandsire. None of them would survive that meeting, except maybe Buffy, but the rest were too puny to go up against the wanker’s games and come out of it alive.
“You saw Angelus? He didn’t see you, obviously, or you wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.” Then the information that had spewed out in a colourful vitriolic message of hate hit him right between the eyes—in that place that was often a bit slow on the move. “Wait, what? What bloody soul? Bugger. I thought you were just taking the piss.”
Buffy cringed under his intense stare. With all her wigging over his own soul status and his undead ex, she’d kind of forgotten to go into details about what late breaking news was discovered regarding Angel. Her crude joke about the vampire and his pompous claim of soul haveage was something that seemed to have skipped right past Spike. His look of confusion and panic tore at her heart and she was suddenly afraid that he was going to reveal everything in his shocked realisation that though his own soul was made up on the spot, Angel had supposedly possessed one for countless years.
Buffy caught his eyes and very slowly, sincerely told him what they all knew—if they’d been told the truth. Again, not with the easy tests for the soul existence. “Angel came by and told us he has a soul. He had some book thingy that made Giles’s eyes bulge, but his main point was to tell us he was the real vampire with a soul.” Please don’t anyone ask Spike if he really has one. Don’t let them find out now it was a trick. Buffy felt almost light-headed with holding her breath, then found herself trying to be inconspicuous about needing to drag in great gasping lungfuls of air as Spike’s expressions of doubt caused her pain.
He felt like his very foundations had been taken to with a sledgehammer. Was the girl he was falling for making fun of him? Setting him up to fall not only in front of her friends, but against the tosser that had always ensured his failure in the past?
“There is no way Angelus has a soul. I would’ve known about it.” Except niggling little images came to barrage his brain. Darla and Angelus had been rigidly supportive of each other, never allowing for either of them to be placed in the way of danger without a way to back out of it. Lessons had been learned was all they’d say, but Spike had always envied the way they had always watched each other’s back. Even when it looked like they didn’t.
He’d always thought it made no sense when she’d kicked him out. Made even less sense how quietly he’d gone. Any normal Angelus behaviour would have alerted him and Dru to the expulsion from their close knit group, and suddenly Spike felt the weight of his misunderstanding heavy in his gut. The bitch had never told him. She’d let them believe that Angelus had bolted because he was sick of them, that it was HER call to split them up. The years of disappointment and hurt that he’d been abandoned suddenly was lifted, and though it didn’t give him any warm cuddlies for his grandsire, it removed some of the responsibility he’d felt at the loss. Altered his feeling of destiny that he’d finally gained Drusilla to care for. Events outside his control may have kept them together, but it wasn’t some preordained destiny like he’d always romantically believed.
Still, knowledge didn’t suddenly buy loyalty, not as much as this little group had earned just by trusting him and allowing him into their lives. He’d felt Angelus was off in their earlier encounter, and now that he was a little more advised of the facts, he understood Xander’s concerns.
“What did you see?” he asked, his voice low with suppressed fury. Too many times had he stood by and been made a fool of by his own family. Too many times he’d been used, lied to, and callously tormented and denied simply because he was never enough. Well, he seemed to be enough for Buffy, and in a twist of irony that hadn’t stopped his head yet from spinning, Spike was feeling bloody alright with that. Completely satisfied with the uncanny about turn of his life.
And her mates were more than enough for him. Thoughts of feasting on their blood were long gone; he saw them now as potential friends, and felt as well as saw the wisdom in waiting to reveal his lack of spiritual guidance. His soul was Buffy, and in time, he hoped they would hear that devotion and allow him to live with it.
Xander seemed startled at the anger in Spike’s voice. The vampire had so far been especially careful to remain even tempered in front of Buffy’s friends. While his plot had been to lure the Slayer in and be victorious in her death, he’d been gentle and unobtrusive so as to allay any fear they may have had that a vampire near was something to be rejected—whether with soul or not. It had worked like a charm, and now he was reaping the benefits of Harris seeing exactly how furious and concerned Spike was that Angelus had upset him with some scheme the boy had witnessed.
Their eyes met, warm chocolate brown melting the reserve as he found the sincerity that Spike didn’t have to act to own. And Xander spoke, telling them all the scene he’d overheard and where Jesse was now.
“I went to the Bronze last night. I waited an hour or two and when no one showed—” he glared at Willow and Buffy, then shrugged and smiled sadly. “I started off for home. Thought I heard Jesse in one of the alleys, and after the other near death experience, I headed down to check he wasn’t being someone’s snack.”
Buffy had taken a seat near Spike at the table across from her friend, watching with fear filled lungs that suddenly deprived her of air. Xander nodded in acknowledgement before dropping his head in his hands.
“I think we made a mistake, not telling him. I found him falling out of this blonde chick’s place. The same one that took him before.” He raised tortured eyes to the group, his guilt radiating off him so that they all felt it and sunk into the misery by his side.
“Darla,” Spike offered, though he knew that they knew her name. “Bloody game of her to take him to her place. She’s not one to take her food home with her. She doesn’t like the clean-up.”
Xander stared in shock, then the light of innocence that he’d clung to over the past week slowly faded until there was nothing left but the dark shine of a boy that had learned too much of horror and life to ever be carefree again.
“He told me it all on the way to hospital. He’s been going to her for sex—” He screwed up his nose in disgust, even as the envy battled valiantly. “And letting her feed off of him. He knew she could kill him, but he doesn’t seem to care.” Xander seemed to space out before them all, his mind repeating the details Jesse had relayed rather vividly and fought extra hard to keep his cock flaccid even as the bile trekked up his throat.
Spike felt the apology teeter on his lips. “Some are seduced by the bite.” He wanted the words to be more, but couldn’t make it expand in meaning to these that had no real knowledge of what they were beginning to deal with. They were new to this game, to his breed, and even the Slayer, as young to the role of warrior as she was, didn’t know the fools sex and blood could make of a man. Particularly a spotty one lured in with the promise of some mind-blowing sex and blood play.
But the Watcher was aware. He knew the lure of a vampire’s bite, knew the danger many put themselves willingly in once they succumbed to their curiosity and danced with almost certain death. Spike could see the acknowledgement in the stuffy git’s eyes and was surprised at the level of compassion he felt for these humans that chose to rub shoulders with his kind and come out winners. And righteous. It was enough to make Spike determined to fight, to show he was more than what his family had claimed him to be.
“I-I believe it’s almost impossible to reject the desire one feels when they are bitten,” offered Giles hesitantly, knowing that it was small explanation to Xander who was obviously hurting a great deal.
“And so not the point,” Xander huffed, his hand suddenly slapping hard down on the table and making them all jump. Giles stepped forward, ready to intervene if this tale proved too much for the boy he was just getting to know.
“We can help Jesse. Chain him up somewhere till he gets his head back in the right place. It was this Angel guy that worries me. He came in here with the big talk, soulful warrior of the people yadda yadda, and he made a deal with this really dangerous babe. They plan to use Jesse as bait to find out what Spike’s deal is. If not saving a human from the evil clutches of the monster that almost killed Jesse isn’t part of his new job description, then it’s beyond time the guy got terminated. All in favour, say aye?” And he gathered up the stick of wood he’d been concealing up his pant leg in his sock and brought it down with an emphatic crack against the table.
Buffy felt almost too afraid to turn to Spike—was desperate to not reveal in some subtle glance or worry that her boyfriend would fail the tests Darla and Angel set up for him. The truth of what this was finally hit her and Buffy felt sick at the responsibilities that were pushing brutally hard on her shoulders.
“He was so desperate to out Spike as an impostor that he was going to sacrifice a human?” Buffy’s voice lacked the usual strength that made them all step back in respect to her position. This revelation had her rattled. If someone who claimed to have a soul was willing to let a boy possibly die in the course of proving his argument right, then he wasn’t one to be trusted. She’d known both Angel and Spike for the same period of time, and not once had Spike threatened one of her friends. She’d never felt unsafe with him; never had to question if he would protect as well as inform her about his opportune warnings.
“Not only a human, pet. But one of your mates.” It was so matter of fact that there was no argument and Buffy knew that the time spent considering the soul versus no soul debate was superficial and stupid. To compare them wasn’t enough. She had to search deeper to know what to do, though losing Spike at this time was something she wouldn’t contemplate. His lack of soul didn’t concern her, and she was sure once he’d shown his new loyalties that it wouldn’t bother her friends either.
“So, we have to take this Darla out as soon as possible.” Grimly determined, the Slayer sat back and marvelled at how simple the solution was. To save her friends, to save her love life, she had to rid them of this one vampire. How hard could it be?
“Won’t be so easy, pet. She’s an elder and she’s the Master’s get, favoured childe and all that. Strong, cunning and vicious as hell. She taught Angelus everything she knows.”
Giles stepped forward again, his eyes suspicious as he looked warily at Spike and kept himself on the opposite side of the table. “Yes, Buffy. Angel without a soul is not a vampire you want to tangle with normally. It would seem that the Aurelian clan are an imposing group. I should think you would be careful and tread lightly.”
Spike glared. Something was up. Looked like the little Watcher had finally done some homework. “No need to pussyfoot around with the details, Rupes. Slayer knows my history. She met Drusilla last night. It’s sorted. Yes, Darla isn’t going to be a walk in the park, particularly if Angelus is in the background. But I’ve got Buffy’s back. Nothing is going to happen to her as long as I’m around.”
“And how long exactly would that be, Spike? What are your plans?” Giles shifted nervously and wondered at the spontaneous snort of amusement from Spike before the blond shuffled his feet, dug his hands into his duster pockets and leaned forward to stare intently at the one whose job it was to put Buffy in the line of fire every day until she perished.
“Plans always have a way of buggering me up, right and proper. I’m wingin’ it.”
And that was that.
Spike stared the Watcher down, his lips shaped in smugness that had the older human squirming.
“That’s all well and good for you, but for Buffy to have any measure of success in this venture she will undoubtedly need to rely on a plan.” Giles stood tall, nodding at his slayer before offering his thoughts on what he considered to be the most logical course of action, and Spike just leaned back to soak it in.
He was in, finally in the Slayer’s circle and for all intents and purposes tolerated. The redhead kept darting him looks until he dared to return them, and her encouraging smile did everything to warm his heart. So many years he’d existed without true acceptance and he’d never realised he’d craved it quite to this extent. Never really knew how it would feel to be included in a plan that was to save lives rather than destroy them.
As the group discussed the pros and cons of attacking Darla before she could influence Jesse further, plotting sneaky ways of surprising Darla with a shapely stick to the heart, Spike sat back and admired them all. The stalwart Watcher who guided his slayer with a steady yet frustrated hand, her friends who stood by her despite not knowing her for long or being previously acquainted with the world of their nightmares. There was so much about them that was impressive and it was all that Spike could do to stay seated and not give in to the sudden urge to show affection. He couldn’t do that. ‘Big Bads’ didn’t hug their food, except now they were friends and not something he’d easily select off his menu. Still, it seemed somehow too awkward and not something he wanted to expose himself over. Tying himself up in emotional knots for Buffy was enough for now. So he let his heart swallow these knew emotions, felt them swirling around and influencing the smile on his face.
At last they’d decided and it was time for action—the part that Spike excelled at and looked forward to sharing with his…girlfriend. Grinning giddily, Spike realised how innocent that term was and how much he loved it. He loved everything about his current existence, this diversion into the light, and if that included a blonde petite slayer who smelled delicious and who had a heart the size of the continent, then he’d just have to suffer it.
“Right, let’s bleeding well get on with it then.”
Buffy gave last minute encouragement to those staying behind and took his hand in her warm fist.
He just couldn’t get rid of that smile.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I think the end is in sight for this fic. Don't forget to tell me what you think of how it's going. Your thoughts are greatly appreciated.