Previously on BtVS: Buffy is living in London at the Slayer Academy. Whilst on a trainee Slayer field trip she comes across Spike in a demon bar. One broken nose and a few snarky comments later, the Vampire finds himself again under the original slayer’s spell, this time without the hocus pocus.
Wanting to give his girl the courtship she deserves Spike gathers all his self control. Following a romantic dinner for two his resolve starts to crack until the demon within the demon makes itself known. Sensing Buffy is in danger, and worse still the danger is within himself pushes her away and leave her confused.
Buffy was trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice as she explained to Willow what had happened. “We were, um, saying goodnight…”
“With the tongues and the ripping off of the clothes?” Her friend’s eyebrows waggled as she teased.
A slight blush rose on Buffy’s cheeks. “Anyway, then he just left!”
“Mid rip?”
“Not exactly but…”
“Spike with self control, now there is a thing.” Willow took a sip of her coffee.
“No, you don’t understand…” Buffy started again.
“You’re pissed because you turned out to be resistible?”
“No, yes. Look I’m telling you, it was something else. This wasn’t ‘I want to be all sappy and romantic’ He looked genuinely freaked!”
“Not a reaction you were going for?”
“No. That was three nights ago. No sign of him since!”
Willow considered. “So you want me to do a locater spell? Is that it?”
“I’d be grateful Will.” Buffy smiled, relieved.
“Ok, but you have to do something for me in return? You have to tell Dawnie that he’s back.”
A troubled look crossed Buffy’s face. “Have kinda been avoiding that whole can of worms.”
“You know the trainee slayers gossip. It’s only so long before one of them asks her what the deal with the vampire is. And then she is going to know and ask you why you didn’t tell her. Then with the high pitched screaming and I don’t think the dogs in the area can take that?”
“I know, I know, I’ll tell her. I just wanted to make sure that he was proper back first. She’s lost too many people to have to deal with any more disappointment.”
“You sure that’s the only reason?”
“Ok, I’m not sure how she is going to react. I mean when Dawn’s upset with someone she kinda holds on to it. Things were never right between them, it’s as though she totally forgot all the good things he’s done, for her especially?”
“Like you have kinda forgotten all the bad sweetie?” Willow said gently.
“Not forgotten, but it’s different. I wasn’t exactly blameless. I did my share of the hurting. But I am going to make it up to him?”
“Perhaps Dawnie was getting her own frustration at Spike out of her system? But you know deep down she loves him. She needs the chance to make things right too. She can’t do that if she doesn’t know?”
“I’ll tell her. I really will, but I have to find him first!”
Willow nodded in agreement. “Ok, spell to find a mislaid Vampire it is.”
Spike wasn’t entirely sure when his legs had stopped working. It may have been somewhere between the second or the third bottle of scotch. All he knew was the command to move was leaving his brain and then going on a little detour, because it definitely wasn’t being received. He poked his left thigh, missing the first time, but eventually on target with the second attempt. Yes, these legs still seemed to belong to him. He took another swig from the bottle in his hand before going back to trying to get up.
Forgetting what he actually wanted to get up for, his concentration was drawn to the television. Well, he could actually see two televisions. His eyes seemed to be trying to go in two separate directions to watch one each. Shaking his head, he tried to get everything back in line. It only to achieve a head rush that left the room spinning. He decided to have another drink while he waited for it to stop.
The incident with Buffy had really taken him by surprise, worse than that it had left him terrified. He’s always had a rather good relationship with his demon. He gave it an outlet for destruction and death of any manner of ooglie booglies. In return it left him alone to not kill people if he didn’t want to. The soul of course had enhanced the package, but generally the demon was always under control.
This had been different. It had felt alien and new, and totally out of whack. Worse even than that, it had wanted to kill Buffy.
There were few things that Spike could be certain of about himself. Hell if someone had told him ten years ago that he would be all ensouled and save the world he would have laughed himself sick, before killing them. He was a constant source of amazement. But there was one thing that he could see with absolute clarity. No part of him had the capacity, demon or not, to ever, ever hurt Buffy. He loved her with every part of his being, which was always going to be stronger.
So, this was something else and he had done what seemed like the best idea at the time. Whatever was causing his demon to go all fluey, he would drown the little sucker in whiskey until it behaved itself.
The pounding on the door broke him out of his reverie. He looked around for a moment trying to decide where the noise was coming from.
Spike never had visitors. It was something he actively discouraged by not telling anyone where he lived.
There was of course that incident with the Jehovah Witnesses that time. Strange how an active and passionate discussion on his views regarding the giving or taking rather of blood had caused theirs to drain from there faces. He suspected he may not have been blacklisted because they had never been back.
The pounding continued. He smacked the side of his head. No the noise was definitely coming from outside of his brain. With a lurch he got to his feet and moved in the direction of the racket. Pausing mid way he realised that he was walking. ‘Hey, legs do work!’ He thought cheerfully. Kicking one out experimentally, nearly causing himself to fall over. He grabbed the door in support. ‘Ok, best not to draw attention to them.’
Wrenching open the door he bellowed. “What!”
Buffy’s fist stopped mid pound. She swayed back visibly as the alcohol fumes hit her.
“Jesus Spike!”
“I know I have a soul pet, but I think I’ve a way to go before I get there.”
He hung onto the door for support, trying to keep a fix on the wobbly vision in front of him.
“Where have you been?” She demanded. Buffy was relieved to see him, but that didn’t quite mask her revulsion at the state he was in. She waved a hand in front of her nose. “And when did you last take a shower. You are ripe!”
Spike, still clutching his bottle, indicated the room in answer to her first question. To the second he attempted to sniff an armpit, he pulled a face.
Staggering back to the armchair and leaving the door wide open he called. “You can come in slayer. S’not like you need an invitation.”
Trying not to breathe, she followed him into the room. It was a simply furnished basement apartment, filled with items he’s obviously managed to beg borrow or steal.
She supposed the term would be shabby chic… or junk depending on your viewpoint.
“What is wrong with you?” Buffy asked.
“Me?” He raised a scarred eyebrow. “S’nothing wrong with me. Just having a little drinkee… or seven. You want one?” He waved the bottle at her.
“A world of no! And I don’t think you need anymore either!”
Spike frowned and pointed a wobbly finger at her. “Now look here, bloody woman. I don’t remember anything in the bloody deal that says you can tell me when I can have a bloody drink and when I can’t have a bloody drink!”
“Fine!” Buffy waved a hand. “Have a drink, have lots to drink. Knock yourself out!”
Still scowling, he looked at the bottle in his hand. With effort he managed to put it down on the coffee table. “I don’t want to now.” He said petulantly.
“You are a total mess!” She said sadly.
He grinned at her. “You mean you don’t like that I have a mind of my own and that I can do whatever I want to. If that means getting completely wasted then so be it!”
“That wasn’t what I meant.” She sighed. This was going to be such hard work.
“You expected me to come back and just fall into my little role of prize poodle dint ya? Well I warn you kitten, this pup has teeth!”
“Have you moved up from kittens to puppies?” Buffy tried not to smile, this was ridiculous.
Spike waved a finger, about to say something. He paused while he translated what she had just said. “Anyway.” He said eventually. “S’normal for a fella to have a few drinks every now and then. Without his bird giving him grief about it!”
Buffy picked up an empty bottle. “A few?” She moved towards the door. “Ok, I’ll leave you to have your drink. If you decide you actually want to get out from the bottom of the bottle at some point, let me know. I was just worried about you! Excuse me for caring!”
Spike rubbed his hand through his hair, trying to sober a little. “I know pet, I’m sorry...”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand. The other night? This? I don’t know what has gotten into you!”
Spike leant forward his head in his hands. After a moment he got up to face her, his blue eyes looked into hers.
“That’s the point. Neither do I pet. I think I just might need your help.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay.