Chapter Seven
The following evening, without going into details about their conversation, Buffy did her best to bring Giles and the Scoobies up-to-date on Spike. Back against the wall of the library, Angel brooded in silence, frowning every time she mentioned his grandchilde’s name.
“So, Buffy,” Giles tried to keep his tone impartial and smooth, although he wanted to shout at her for her stupidity in pausing to talk to William the Bloody rather than slaying him. “You are saying that Spike helped you defeat the J’kack demons and then told you he wasn’t hunting?”
“Well, he didn’t so much help me as he evened the odds a little – I guess he killed one of them and threw me the sword. Then he just watched me fight the rest of them.”
“So, once again, he was using this as an opportunity to study your moves.”
“No, he just likes to—yes! I mean, yes, he was watching me fight them because he wanted to…study me.”
“He’s up to something.” Angel’s voice was a low growl and Buffy shot him an irritated look.
“Or maybe he just wants to cure whatshername and get out of here,” she snapped, surprising everyone with the vehemence of her reply.
Her Watcher gave the vampire a glare, then continued, “And did you say he apologized for the missing girls?” The disbelief was obvious.
“Well, not in so many words.” She squirmed uncomfortably. “He just said that he hadn’t meant for that to happen and that humans weren’t what he needs to cure his…” She found herself struggling to find something to call the woman Spike had come to Sunnydale to save. “…His sire,” she finally got out.
“She’s more than his sire,” Angel said quietly. “She’s his…everything. They’ve been together for over a hundred years; he won’t leave until he makes her well.”
“Well, if it isn’t blood she needs,” Buffy tried to smother the jealousy that hearing Drusilla referred to as Spike’s “everything’ sent stabbing through her, “then what is it?”
“Sire’s blood,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall. “She needs Sire’s blood to heal. That’s why he’s here; he’s here for me.”
The entire group of humans gaped at the souled vampire until he bristled.
“What? Giles, surely you know how important Sire’s blood is to vampires. It’s what feeds us when we first crawl out of our graves, and it can cure us if we’re hurt or sick. The only thing close to it would be—“ He broke off abruptly, but the guilty look he shot at Buffy left no doubt about what he’d been about to say.
“Slayer blood,” she said flatly. “He could use my blood to heal her too.”
“He could, but he won’t,” Angel’s snarl and flashing amber eyes were a sudden reminder that he was an even older vampire than Spike or Drusilla.
“Hey, no problem, then.” Xander spoke up for the first time all night. “We’ll just feed Deadboy here to the crazy vampire.”
“We’re not feeding anybody to Spike’s …to Drusilla.” Buffy spoke with conviction, glaring around the room and daring anyone to contradict her. “We…I will find a way to make them leave.”
“Or you could just slay them.” Her Watcher’s voice was cold and harsh. “You have an opportunity to take out two of the remaining three members of the Scourge of Europe, Buffy. I fail to understand why you don’t consider that your first option.”
“Yeah, Buff, why aren’t you all about the slaying of the slayer of slayers? And do NOT try saying that at home!” Xander added as they all stared at him.
Because all I see when I look at him is a brave little boy who took care of me for a few days last year? Oh yeah, that’ll go over well, almost as well as “because he kissed me and rocked my world.” Gah!”
“Yes, Buffy,” Angel’s voice was almost as hard as her Watcher’s. “Why is it that neither of you is dead yet?”
Tired of the pretense, of lying to the people who cared about her, and too preoccupied to watch what she was saying, Buffy snapped back in a tone just as hard as theirs, “Because neither of us wants the other dead.”
“Can you explain why?”
She could hear the struggle to control his temper in his voice, and she sent Giles a warning glare before giving up and allowing her shoulders to slump with submission.
“I could, but I really don’t feel like it. Can’t you just take my word for it that he isn’t going to kill me?”
Angel stood up, his impatience clear.
“I’ve had enough. I’m going to get to the bottom of this and I’m going to do it now.”
He started out of the room, stopping when Buffy sprinted to the door to block his way.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Spike and Dru and get him to tell me what kind of game he’s playing. You may not want to dust him, but I have no problem with it.”
“Are you going to dust Drusilla too?” Buffy had spent some time recently poring over Giles’ books on vampire families and had a better understanding of the ties between sire and childe.
The vampire shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with the small blond girl glaring at him and waiting for an answer. When he saw that she wasn’t going to give it up and that the watcher was looking at him coldly, he sighed in resignation.
“I would rather not,” he admitted softly. “I’m completely responsible for Drusilla’s…condition…and I feel I owe her—“
“So then, you are going to take over care of the insane vampiress after you dust her mate?” The Watcher’s voice was even and gave no sign as to what he was thinking.
“They aren’t mated!” Angel snarled, startling the humans in the room into silence. Buffy’s eyes were wide with shock at the vehemence with which the normally placid vampire responded to Giles’ question.
“But all the council’s books say—“
“The books are wrong.” Angel’s voice was quieter, but no less sure. “Dru has never allowed Spike to claim her. He is just a toy and a…caretaker.”
Buffy bristled on Spike’s behalf at the tone of contempt in Angel’s voice.
“He’s been a ‘toy’ for over a hundred years? This vampire that you keep telling me is too dangerous for me to take on by myself?” Buffy’s disbelief was obvious, though her quickly-smothered joy at hearing that Spike and Drusilla were not mated was not so apparent to anyone but herself.
“Tell me, Angel,” Giles refused to let the subject go. “Who will become Drusilla’s caretaker if you dust William the Bloody?”
Angel’s nostrils flared in irritation. “It’s not my problem,” he muttered. “She’ll turn herself another…companion.”
“And I’m supposed to let that happen? She gets a free pass to kill somebody just because you don’t like Spike?”
“Fine!” Angel’s impatient snarl gave them a quick glance at what he might have been like without his soul. “I won’t dust the blond menace. Satisfied?” He stalked towards the door, growling under his breath, “Unless he does something to piss me off.”
“Do. Not. Dust. Spike.” Buffy’s voice was pure Slayer and there was no mistaking the threat underlying her order.
The vampire didn’t answer, just continued out the doors leaving them swinging back and forth behind him.
“Hey, here’s an idea, Buff.” Xander spoke up eagerly. “Why not dust all three of them? Poof! No more Scourge of Europe.”
“I HEARD that!” Angel’s outraged roar floated back to them.
“You were meant to!” Xander responded, but much more quietly. As much as he disliked the vampire, he never forgot that the only thing standing between Angel and Angelus was a non-visible soul. Nor did he forget that the vampire disliked him in equal measure.
After once again refusing to tell Giles why she was so confident that Spike wasn’t going to kill her, Buffy left the library and walked Willow home. They strolled in silence for several blocks before Willow ventured, “Buffy? William the Bloody – does he have anything to do with… I mean obviously he’s a grown man, but he had to be a little boy sometime and it’s about the right time frame and…” She stopped rambling for a breath of air and found Buffy staring at her in amazement.
“How…?”
Willow blushed and admitted, “I loved your story about little William and how brave he was and how he took care of you and wrote you a poem. And I remembered that you said that he was blond and had beautiful blue eyes, so I did some research…It IS him, isn’t it? It’s William, all grown up?”
Buffy sighed, releasing the tension she’d been carrying around for weeks and grateful to have someone to talk to about Spike.
“Yes,” she said softly. “It’s him. All grown up.”
“And a vampire,” Willow felt constrained to point out.
“And a vampire,” Buffy agreed with a groan. “Not just any vampire, but Angel’s grandchilde and one that has killed two slayers.”
“And he remembers you?” Willow’s voice carried more than a touch of awe. “After all this time? I mean, I know it’s only been a year for you – but for him it’s been….” She looked at her best friend with renewed respect. “Wow. I meet guys and they can’t remember my name the next day. And you…and he…Wowie.”
“Yeah, well, things would be a lot easier if we didn’t remember each other. Then he’d be dust and Giles wouldn’t be cleaning his glasses and grumbling all the time, and Angel wouldn’t be such a sourpuss.”
“Uh, Buffy?”
Her friend cocked her head in inquiry.
“Giles is always cleaning his glasses about something. And Angel? Pretty much a sourpuss most of the time. I don’t think it’s fair to blame it on Spike…er…William.”
“Bloody brilliant observation there, Red.” The rich, warm voice came out of the shadows just before Spike stepped out where they could see him.
While Willow gaped at the smiling vamp, wondering if his promise not to kill Buffy would extend to her friends, Buffy glared at him and demanded, “Are you following me again?”
“Jus’ happened to be walking this way, pet; don’t get your knickers in a twist. You should have known I was here, anyway. What’s the matter with your vamp radar?”
The tone of concern in his voice wasn’t lost on either of the girls and Willow shot Buffy a speculative look before stammering, “We…she was busy talking to me and it’s Sunnydale so you know, vampires everywhere…and-“ She stopped and looked at Buffy again. “Why DIDN’T you feel him, Buffy? Didn’t you tell me you can always tell when Angel’s around?”
“I’m not Angel!”
“He’s not Angel!”
There was silence for a few seconds, both blonds somewhat abashed by their immediate identical responses. Then Buffy shrugged and admitted, “I knew he was around. I just didn’t know he was eavesdropping on us,” she added with another glare.
Completely unfazed by her scowl, Spike smirked and said, “Knew you knew it was me. Bloody bint - pretendin’ you didn’t know I was here. Shame on you, Slayer.”
He grinned at her, obviously pleased with himself at catching her out.
“So, why ARE you here, Spike? And don’t try to tell me you were just out for a walk, either.” A look of fear crossed her face. “Were you hunting? Did you just kill somebody?”
Her heart was pounding as she reached for the stake in her waistband. To Willow’s complete amazement, instead of moving away in fear, the vampire stepped closer to the Slayer and put a gentle hand on hers pushing the stake back into its resting place.
“Easy, luv. I wasn’t hunting. I’d just left you a gift and was on my way back from your house. Heard you two chattering and thought I’d catch up and introduce myself to your pretty little friend here.”
Willow blushed all over at the appreciative wink from the vampire she’d identified the first time she’d seen him as a “hottie”. She ducked her head and peered at him through her hair, whispering a tentative, “Hi?”
Buffy smothered another pang of jealousy as Spike let go of her to take Willow’s hand in his and gently shake it. He held it just long enough to make the novice witch blush again as he purred, “I feel a lot of power flowing through this little hand, Red. Into the magic, are you then?”
“Willow’s going to be a very powerful witch,” Buffy put in quickly, pulling her friend back from the smiling vampire. “She’s my right-hand…witch,” she finished lamely.
Spike’s attention was back on Buffy as Willow began edging toward her front walk. She could see that neither of them was interested in talking to her anymore that night;she quickly mumbled a “good night” as she ran toward her front door.
Chapter Eight
The Slayer and the vampire barely acknowledged Willow’s departure as they stood only inches apart on the sidewalk. Buffy felt her heart rate go up again as Spike looked like he was about to touch her; her disappointment when he moved away instead made her sound angry as she said, “Angel says you’re here for him. That you need sire’s blood to make your…Drusilla…well. Is that true? Is that why you’re here?”
“Yes, pet, that’s why I’m here. There are only two things that have a chance of repairing the kind of damage that mob did to her, and one of them is the blood of her sire. ‘Course, I don’t know if the great poof is going to give it up willingly…”
“I won’t let you hurt him, Spike.” She spoke as firmly, if not as threateningly, as she had to Angel.
He cocked his head at her, asking with genuine puzzlement, “Why’s that, luv? Even with that soul he got saddled with, he’s still just another vamp.”
Buffy started to fidget guiltily, then remembered that the vampire was here with his long-time girlfriend and brought her chin up defiantly.
“He’s my boyfriend,” she said strongly, meeting his darkening look with a stubborn lip.
“He’s your what?” Spike’s snarl made her flinch in spite of herself; his eyes flashed amber and she could see the bones in his face beginning to shift before he regained control of himself. With a visible effort, he forced back the demon and said tightly, “Knew I smelled him on you, but I never imagined… Buffy, luv, he’s not…you shouldn’t…bloody hell, Slayer! Do you know who he is?”
“I know who he was before he got his soul. But that was a long time ago, and he’s good now. He helps me, and he…he…likes me.”
Instead of arguing with her, he stepped close again and ran his hand over her hair, lingering when he reached the ends that were hanging just above her breast.
“I like you too, luv,” he whispered. “The more I see of you, the more I…like you.”
Buffy trembled at his proximity, remembering how it felt to be pressed against the body now standing so close to hers. He leaned down, his cool breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “Do you like me, luv? Just a little?”
“Y…you…you’re a vampire…you don’t have a soul…you kill Slayers…” Her voice was more of a petulant whine than a firm denial.
“Don’t want to kill YOU, Buffy. Just want to…” His lips brushed across her mouth, wringing an involuntary whimper from her as she pushed him away.
“Don’t,” she breathed. “Please don’t. You have a…a girlfriend. A vampire, like you.” She shuddered and moved back out of reach. “You need to stay away from me.”
“If I was a gentleman, I probably would,” he agreed cheerfully. “But I’m just a bad, rude man – er, vampire, and I don’t want to stay away from you. In fact…” He moved toward her, frowning when she continued to back away from him.
His demeanor made another mercurial switch from cocky vampire to uncertain gentleman as she continued to back away, shaking her head vigorously.
“Don’t be afraid of me, luv. Please. I’ll not hurt you or yours. I swear it.”
“It’s not you I’m afraid of, William,” she whispered, blushing.
Sudden understanding shone in his eyes and they softened until she was sure she could see the proper little boy she’d met last year reflected there.
“I won’t push you, pet. Won’t ask you for anything you’re not ready to give. Wouldn’t presume…I just want to be around you, Buffy, while I can. Can’t help what you do to me, but I wouldn’t force myself on you.”
His expressive human face went from anxious to happy as he absorbed the fact that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to want to touch you,” he added, moving cautiously so as not to frighten her. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you…” His hand gently tipped her face up until he could brush his lips over hers while he murmured soothingly. He heard the pounding of her heart as he whispered against her trembling mouth. “But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable, Slayer.”
Hearing him call her Slayer snapped Buffy out of her lust-induced immobility and she shook herself regretfully before placing her hands against his hard chest.
“It does make me uncomfortable, Spike,” she said clearly, holding him off with both hands but not pushing him away yet. “It makes me uncomfortable for a lot of reasons.”
With a sigh of resignation, the vampire reluctantly let go of her chin and backed away a few steps.
“All right, luv. Walk with me a bit and tell me what is so awful about spending some time kissing an old friend.”
“We’re not old friends, Spike,” she said with a sigh, turning toward Revello Drive. “We’re just two people who knew each other for a few days a long time ago. In your case, a VERY long time ago.”
“Didn’t you like William?” The hurt in his voice was real and she had a sudden flashback to worshipful eyes and a tremulous smile.
“Of course I did! I do – did, like William. You know I did. But you…you aren’t him anymore, are you?”
“I am when I’m around you,” he said quietly. “I’m more like him than I ever expected or wanted to be again.” His admission that William’s Victorian manners and gentle nature were at odds with the vampire he’d become was just the right touch of honesty it took for her to believe him.
“And when you aren’t around me?” Her voice was a sad whisper.
“I am what I am, Slayer. I’m a 124-year-old master vampire who was turned and taught his trade by three of the most bloodthirsty and evil demons of modern time. Can’t change that. Wouldn’t if I could. Grown-up William was more than a bit of a ponce; a mummy’s boy who would rather write poetry than earn a living. No one respected him; no one wanted him. If he hadn’t had a few tricks up his sleeve, thanks to a pretty visitor from the land of elves,” - he sent her a sideways glance, happy to see a small smile touch her lips – “he probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to catch Dru’s attention. As it was, he got beat up fairly often. Even though some blokes DID learn that if he was sufficiently frightened he could be bloody creative in his own defense,” he finished dryly.
“So now you get back at all those people by killing and eating total strangers who had nothing to do with anything that happened to you before you were turned?”
Buffy’s angry tone told him he’d been a little too honest in his reply and he growled softly to himself.
“I’m a bloody vampire, Buffy!”
“So is Angel,” she answered quietly. “He doesn’t kill innocent people.”
Spike’s eyes flashed amber and his forehead began to furrow. With a visible effort, he once again fought down his demon although his response came out sounding more like a growl than actual words.
“Angelus is the same selfish, ill-tempered, impatient bastard he always was. Soul or no soul. I don’t know what has set him on this quest to be good – other than the chance to get into your virginal little knickers – but he hasn’t been like that for most of the past 200 years and I don’t believe it’s a way of life now. If he’s concerning himself with the welfare of ‘innocent people’ I can guarantee you he has some kind of ulterior motive. I didn’t trust him then, and I don’t trust him now.”
Buffy’s face couldn’t hide her dismay and anger - dismay that Spike refused to believe that Angel could be good; and anger that he could allude so crudely to her relationship with the souled vampire.
“Just because you can’t keep your hands off –you have no right to accuse Angel of—how dare you!”
“I dare because I know the bloody wanker, better than you ever will. He didn’t leave us the minute he got that soul. We had the pleasure of his brooding company for years before the tart finally tossed him out on his arse. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and he has a thing for young girls. Always has – since before he was turned.”
His voice changed from an angry growl to a soft, pleading whisper that Buffy reacted to in spite of herself.
“I’m not trying to scare you, luv. Or spoil your love life. But I know him, and he will hurt you. Sooner or later, the bastard will hurt you and I…I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn you about him.”
His face showed nothing but genuine concern and a bit of longing that she chose not to see. They had stopped walking to yell at each other and he moved closer to her so that he could gently stroke the side of her face.
“Just don’t let him hurt you, luv; that’s all I’m saying. Be careful. Find yourself a nice high school boy,and leave the poof to do his brooding by himself.”
“Well, that would be a good solution if I could actually find one who had the same effect on me that some vampires apparently do,” she grumbled, missing the way his eyes lit up at her use of the plural.
“Well,” he grinned as they started walking again, “I didn’t say go find one right now. Maybe after I leave…”
The reminder that he was there only temporarily to cure his long-time girlfriend was all Buffy needed to firm up her resolve. As they reached the corner of Revello Drive within view of her well-lit house, she stopped again and turned to face him.
“I don’t know why you and Angel hate each other so much – and I don’t think I want to know. But whatever it is, you need to work it out without bloodshed. I…I don’t want you killing each other – and I don’t want to have to kill one or the other of you to prevent it.”
“Well, if the bloody poofter will accept his responsibility and give Dru what she needs from him—“
“Didn’t I just say I didn’t want you to kill each other? What makes you think I’m going to let you feed him to your crazy girlfriend?” Buffy’s voice was high and shrill and the vampire shushed her quickly when he saw someone look out of one of the houses.
“Shhh, pet. Gonna bring your neighbors out if you keep that up.”
“Duh! It’s the hellmouth, Spike. Nobody goes out of their nice safe home after dark unless it’s on fire or something. Don’t change the subject. I’m not going to let you kill Angel to save your skanky girlfriend.”
He cocked his head at her and said curiously, “Have your watcher and Angelus not told you anything about vampire bites, Buffy?”
“You mean other than, ‘don’t get one if you can help it’? What else is there to know?”
“Exchanging blood is a big part of vampire life, Slayer. We bite each other all the time. We can even bite humans without killing if we want to. Dru doesn’t have to kill Angelus to get well – she just needs some of his blood in her system. She wouldn’t kill him if she had to,” he added bitterly. “Trust me. She cares more about that wanker than you do.”
“I sooo don’t want to know what you mean by that,” Buffy muttered, surprised when the vampire readily agreed with her.
“I don’t want you to know what I mean by it either, luv,” he said quietly. “I hope you never know.”
She frowned at him quizzically, but he didn’t elaborate; there was an uncomfortable silence before Buffy said reluctantly, “Well. I’m home and I should get in before my mother wonders where I’ve been all this time.”
“She doesn’t know? Your own mum doesn’t know you’re the Slayer?”
“My mother is a busy woman. She doesn’t know lots of things that she doesn’t need to, and my being the Slayer is definitely one of those things she doesn’t need to know. She would wig.”
“I think it’s a mistake to keep something like that from your mum, luv,” he said, sounding very much like an adult speaking to a child. “The woman has a right to know—“
“To know that I’m out every night killing things? That I might not come back one of these nights? What good would that do? She’d just worry herself to death or order me to quit being the Slayer or some other pointless something. We went through this when I was first called; my parents didn’t want to know then, and they don’t want to know now.”
He picked up on the sorrow in her voice and without thinking about what he was doing or the public street upon which they were standing, he put his arms around her and gave her a comforting hug. She stiffened, then relaxed into his embrace and laid her head on his chest. Somehow his spontaneous reaction to her tone of voice broke through all the defenses she’d set up against him and she sighed happily as he kissed the top of her head and murmured reassuring nothings into her hair.
Her hands slid around his body to hug him back and what had been a warm, chaste embrace suddenly threatened to turn into something else as he felt the inevitable tightening in his jeans. Before she could notice, he gently pushed her away, planting a final kiss on her forehead and smiling into her bewildered and disappointed face.
He rested his forehead against hers telling her softly, “Believe me, luv, I’d hold you all night if you wanted me to, but you need to go in and I need to get away from your warm little body before I start wanting things I know I’ll never have.
“Good night, Buffy,” he whispered. “Check outside your window for your gift and use it well.”
With a last quick peck on her pouting mouth, he stepped away and vanished into the night, his long strides carrying him out of sight before she could even say her own “good-night”. When she could no longer see his flapping coat and bright hair, she sighed and walked the rest of the way to her house wondering how a girl who hardly ever dated could have such a complicated love-life.
She exchanged some small talk with her mother, barely paying attention to what the older woman was saying about an upcoming trip as she mulled over Spike’s words and wondered if she was making a mistake keeping her mother in the dark about her calling. Putting the subject aside for another day, she said good-night and went up to her room.
She looked around curiously for anything new that could be construed as a gift, then realized there was no way for Spike to have left a present in her room. Frowning at her own lapse at expecting a vampire other than Angel to have access to her bedroom, she wondered briefly what he’d meant by ‘leaving her a present’. A soft breeze from the barely open window caught her attention and she walked to the window to peer out.
Lying on the slightly sloping roof just outside her window was the sword Spike had tossed her the night before. The one she had dropped when the reality of her standing in a graveyard engaging in lustful kissing with an unsouled vampire had hit and she had run off.
She leaned out the window and carefully pulled the clean and shiny sword into her bedroom, admiring the way it felt in her hand and taking some practice slashes with it. When she almost sliced through her drapes, she remembered where she was and looked around wondering where she could hide a sword that her mother wouldn’t notice it. She finally settled on wrapping it in an extra blanket and pushing it up against the wall under her bed.
She went to sleep that night with a small smile on her face and the taste of cigarettes on her lips.
Chapter Nine
When several nights had gone by with no sign of Spike or Angel, Buffy began to worry that neither of the two old vampires had obeyed her demand that they stay away from each other. When she expressed to Willow her fear that they might have killed each other, Xander overheard.
“And that would be a bad thing because…?”
Giles and Cordelia turned to look at her with the same curiosity on their faces as was on Xander’s. Buffy’s eyes flew to Willow’s, then back to the others, her unwillingness to discuss the two vampires plain to see.
“Well…well, Angel is my boyfriend – sort of,” she stammered, only to be interrupted by Xander’s happy, “Sort of? Did you say, ‘sort of’? Does that mean you’re getting over your weird urge to socialize with the undead?”
Her friend’s happy countenance quickly gave way to suspicion as watched her cheeks redden with embarrassment. Her clear reluctance to say anything more also brought a frown to her watcher’s face and he said quietly, “Why don’t you and I have a little chat in my office, Buffy.” His tone made it very clear it was not a request, merely his polite British way of telling her he wanted answers.
With a final panicked look at a sympathetic Willow, Buffy slowly followed her watcher into his office and stood stubbornly just inside as he closed the door on the curious faces in the library.
“Buffy,” he began pompously, “I feel I have been very patient with you for the past couple of months, but I believe it is time for you to tell me what you know about William the Bloody and why you would feel anything but great relief at the thought of his demise.”
Her shoulders slumping in defeat, she threw herself down in a chair and said petulantly, “It’s all your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You made me jump through that stupid portal last year and left me there for three days! So, it’s your fault I don’t want Sp-William dead.”
Giles stared at her until she squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, then he sighed and leaned back in his own seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said quietly, “I take it that you somehow met Spike while you were in the other dimension?”
“It wasn’t another dimension,” she whispered. “It was just back in time in our own. Back to 1864, to a farm in Kent… England.”
“I know where Kent is, thank you, Buffy,” he snapped. “The question is, what has that to do with your reluctance to slay William the Bloody? Or his purported unwillingness to add you to his tally of slayers killed?”
When Buffy didn’t answer immediately, he sighed and continued, “I am assuming that you and William developed some kind of …relationship…while you were there? A romantic relationship, perhaps?”
“Ewwww, Giles! He was nine years old! What do you think I am?”
“I think you are a Slayer who has had the misfortune to develop emotional attachments to some of the very creatures you are destined to slay. And I am very afraid that it is going to get you killed.” The harshness of his words and tone belied the genuine concern on his face as he looked into Buffy’s unhappy eyes.
“I understand that you have some…feelings…for Angel, and it is quite obvious that he cares for you and your mission. However, I do not believe it is in your best interest to forget what he was before he got cursed with that soul. Just because he fought on the side of good after tha—“
Buffy interrupted him, speaking so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
“He didn’t start fighting for good as soon as he got the soul. Spike says he stayed with them for a long time before Darla kicked him out. He said I…I need to be careful of Angel. That he wasn’t a good man before he was turned and that he could still hurt me, even with his soul.”
“He is quite correct,” Giles answered, equally softly. “Although why he would tell you that, I cannot im-“
“You KNEW that about Angel? What he was like as a human? And you didn’t tell me?” Hurt and betrayal were plain in the Slayer’s face.
“Buffy, I work with and around teenagers. I think I have learned when to pick my battles.” He looked at her sternly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you would have immediately stopped seeing Angel had I told you he was not a nice person and not a good choice for a romantic partner.”
Buffy’s automatic response died on her lips as her innate honesty made her admit, “No, I probably wouldn’t have. But at least I would have been warned and then you could say, ‘I told you so’. If there was ever any reason to,” she added hastily. “Which there isn’t. A reason to, I mean.”
“Not that we have seen,” Giles said in a tone that indicated he was not sure they never would. “Now, if you could explain to me why William the Bloody, who was a nine-year-old child when he last met you, is so concerned about your physical and emotional welfare, I would greatly appreciate it.”
With a sigh, Buffy told Giles about nine-year old William, the sheep, the care he tried to take of her when she was so unceremoniously deposited in his field. She told him briefly about the well-mannered little boy who tried so hard to defend her against a gang of thugs much older than he. She gave an abbreviated version of her fight with the older boys, shrugging when he asked dryly if she had remembered she was fighting humans and saying, “I didn’t care at that point. They tried to rape William and they were planning to rape me.” When he looked at her apprehensively, she growled, “I didn’t kill them, Giles. Stop looking all Watcherly and worried. I just taught them a lesson in bullying.”
“So, you saved young William from death and from a fate worse than death. And this is why the adult vampire doesn’t want to kill you?”
“Pretty much,” she said, struggling to keep any sign of the heated thoughts the adult William generated from showing on her face. She did her best to look honest and innocent as she finished cheerfully, “He said then that I must be a warrior elf queen. I don’t think he thought I was real until we fought at Back to School Night.”
Buffy carefully left out any mention of William’s poetry, his last name, or the fact that the adult William seemed more than interested in having a physical if not romantic relationship with her. She just told Giles that she’d had to leave a note for the boy when the portal opened and that she hadn’t seen him since then, not until the adult, demon version of William showed up in the alley, threatening to kill her.
The Watcher’s face was a study in confusion and thought. He shook his head as he muttered, almost to himself, “Vampires with souls fighting on the side of the Slayer; vampires without souls who are capable of loving each other for over one hundred years…”
He missed Buffy’s softly indrawn breath when he mentioned Drusilla’s and Spike’s long term love affair. Without noticing her reaction, he kept talking to himself.
“Unsouled demons that can remember good deeds from when they were children and remain grateful hundreds of years later. Who are capable of acting on that gratitude to the point of protecting a Slayer…”
He stopped and looked at Buffy’s puzzled face. “I believe the Council is neither as all-knowing as they would like to think they are, nor as forthcoming with their employees as they could be.”
“And I’m shocked and amazed,” Buffy said sarcastically. She made no secret of her contempt for the organization that nominally “owned” her.
“So, are we done here?” she asked, standing up and edging toward the door.
“I suppose so,” he sighed, taking off his glasses. “Although I do wish you had shared this information with me right at the beginning. It would have explained a lot.”
“I’m sorry, Giles,” she said reluctantly. “I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business but mine and Spike’s. I just don’t understand why I haven’t seen him or Angel all week. He said it wouldn’t hurt Angel to give Drusilla what she needs, so why isn’t he around?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to tha-“ The watcher was interrupted by the loud slam of the door being thrown open as Xander, Cordelia, and Willow tumbled into the small room.
“Buffy! Slayer needed. Right now – right here,” Xander gestured behind them and continued to push his way into the room while Willow stood in the doorway looking somewhat sympathetically toward whatever had driven them into the Watcher’s office.
Buffy pushed her way past her friends to see what was so frightening. At first glance, she couldn’t see anything except a trail of blood from the library doors to the table. Then she caught a glimpse of a pale hand reaching to the tabletop and trying to pull a battered body to its feet.
“Spike!” She rushed to his side, heedless of the blood as she quickly put his arm over her shoulder and propped him up. He was a frightening sight – his throat torn and bloody, his vamp features fully visible as he struggled to remain upright.
“What happened to you?” She could see that one arm was dangling uselessly, and that in addition to his torn-out throat, he was covered in bites and claw marks. His tee shirt was hanging in bloody shreds, doing nothing to hide the gouges on his chest or the hole in his side.
As Buffy carefully helped him onto the table, taking care to lower his upper body gently until he was lying down, she repeated in a tight voice, “What did this to you?”
“Angelus,” he gasped, dropping his head onto the hard wood without so much as a wince.
“Angel? Angel did this?” Buffy’s anger was evident, but her concern for the blond vampire kept her from grabbing a stake and leaving immediately to search for her boyfriend. “After I told him to leave you alone?”
Spike shook his head gingerly, then met, not her eyes but those he quickly identified as belonging to her Watcher, saying clearly, “Not Angel. Angelus. ANGELUS.”
The widening of the watcher’s eyes told him his message had gotten through and he allowed his own eyes to close in exhaustion. He looked very much like the corpse he was as he lay on the table not breathing or moving, the blood no longer running freely from his almost drained body.
Buffy whirled to the man whom she trusted to know everything and said desperately, “What’s wrong with him? What do we need to do? And why does he keep calling Angel Angelus?”
Choosing to answer what he considered the most important question first, Giles said tightly, “I believe he is telling us that Angel has lost his soul somehow and that Angelus is back among us.”
He looked at the anxious young faces peering out of his office and said sternly, “No one goes anywhere alone and you do not go anywhere to which Angel had an invitation. Can you think of a safe place?”
Willow was shaking her head, but Xander said, “Deadboy’s never been welcome in my house. We can go there.”
“Very well,” he instructed. “Use Cordelia’s car, keep holy water, crosses and stakes with you, and get there as quickly as you can. When it is once again daylight, you can go to your own homes and Willow can do disinvite spells everywhere that Angelus might have access.” He turned to Buffy, “I presume he has full access to your home?” He tried to keep the accusatory tone from his voice, but her glare told him he hadn’t succeeded very well.
“Yes,” she said shortly. “But my mom is out of town, so there’s no one there right now.”
“Fine. Then we shall retreat to my apartment and I will do the disinvite as soon as we get there.” He cast a dubious look at the inert man lying on his table and said with some reluctance, ”I suppose we will have to take him with us until he has recovered enough to give us some more information. I believe I have some chains somewhere—“
“He needs blood,” Buffy said abruptly, ignoring for the moment Giles’ suggestion that they chain Spike up. “We’ll have to stop at the butcher’s or the hospital…”
“The butcher will be closed by now, Buffy,” Giles said with a glance at his watch. While the butchers in Sunnydale tended to stay open after dark in order to accommodate their demon clientele, they did not remain open all night and it was well past the time for them to have closed. “And I do not believe that Sunnydale Hospital is going to be interested in sharing the blood they have need of so frequently with one of the creatures that causes it to be in such short supply.”
His voice softened as he saw Buffy tenderly stroke the ashen face on the table. He watched in amazement as the touch of her hand seemed to soothe away the demon and William the Bloody’s handsome human face emerged. Watcher training consisted primarily of teaching different ways to incapacitate or dust vampires and Giles was uncomfortably aware that it had not prepared him to diagnose or repair damage to one.
“Buffy,” he said gently so as not to startle her. “It is imperative that we leave here for someplace inaccessible to Angelus until we have some understanding of what we are facing.”
“If Spike looks like this, what must Angel-lus…” She stumbled over the extra syllable that meant the difference between the vampire who loved her and his unsouled persona. “What must he look like? Spike is the best fighter I’ve ever come up against- better than Angel when I fought him last year. Maybe he’s dust!” Her frightened eyes came up to meet the sympathetic brown ones of her Watcher.
“Buffy,” he said gently, “I am fairly certain that Spike came here to warn us – you. That would not have been necessary if Angelus was dust or even gravely injured. We must assume that he is at large and quite capable.”
“But Angel loves me,” she said pleadingly. “He’ll still love me, won’t he?”
“I cannot answer that, Buffy,” the older man said kindly. “I am not aware that it is possible for a soulless being to love – Spike’s affection for Drusilla not withstanding.”
“If Spike can love, then Angelus can love,” she repeated stubbornly. “He won’t try to hurt me.”
A gurgling growl from the vampire lying on the table brought their attention back to Spike and they found those brilliant blues eyes glaring at them.
“Can, wants to and will,” he managed to get out of his mangled throat.
“Don’t trust him, Buffy. Don’t let him—“ His voice faltered and he lost consciousness once again.
“Buffy!” Giles’ voice held a steely note that she rarely heard unless he was really angry. “We need to go. Now.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Help me get Spike up.”
Between the two of them, Buffy’s slayer strength doing the heavy lifting and the Watcher helping her balance the load, they got the unconscious vampire out of the library. As a precaution, Giles grabbed a large cross from a shelf as they went out the door.
They reached his car without incident, loading the now-moaning vampire into the back seat and driving quickly to the Watcher’s apartment complex. Giles parked as close as he could to his front door, then stood outside the car holding the large cross and looking around warily as Buffy pulled Spike’s complete dead weight out of the car and partially onto her shoulder. She half-dragged, half-carried him toward to front door, the Watcher following behind, walking backwards with the cross held up as a warning. They had just reached the door and Giles was fumbling with the key when an eerily familiar voice floated out of the darkness.
“You don’t really think that pathetic religious symbol can protect you from two master vampires, do you, Giles?” Angelus silky purr was more chilling than an angry roar would have been and the hair stood up on the watcher’s neck.
Wincing as she let Spike slide to the ground, Buffy whirled around, pulling a stake from her waistband as she did so.
“I think this will work, pretty well, Angelus.” She sneered his name even as her heart clenched at the thought of having to kill him.
With the Slayer between him and the menacing voice, Giles got the door open and stepped inside, trying to drag Spike with him. He paused uncertainly when he couldn’t pull the vampire through the invisible barrier, then sighed and mumbled, “Come in, Spike,” as he yanked the body through the door.
“Buffy, come in, now,” he ordered as she wavered uncertainly, still facing in the direction of the voice but feeling the tingles on her neck that said there was another vampire somewhere close. Just as she began backing up toward the door, still searching the darkness for any sign of Angel, she felt a whisper of moving air. Her Slayer reflexes gave her a split second to react before a pale hand with talons for fingernails slid across the space her face had just been. With a disappointed hiss, a tall curvy brunette vampire in a flowing white dress stepped in front of the startled Slayer.
Deep brown eyes stared into cold green ones as the two natural enemies took each other’s measure. The vampire began to sway back and forth, smiling as the Slayer unconsciously mimicked her actions.
“Be in me,” she cooed, gliding closer to the suddenly still Slayer. “Look into my eyes and be in me.”
An outraged roar from her Watcher, and his hand yanking her into the apartment snapped Buffy out of the fog into which she’d been slipping just in time for her to see the fury and frustration on the face that she assumed belonged to Drusilla.
“Another time, Slayer,” the vampire hissed again. “I will be back for what’s mine. You may not have him, my sweet William.”
“Did you do this to him?” Buffy’s voice was cold and hard. She carefully avoided looking into the vampire’s eyes this time as she gestured at Spike’s drained body.
“He was fighting with my Daddy,” Dru answered, as though there could be no argument. “I could not let him hurt my Angelus. Spike was a bad doggie and needed to be punished.”
“Bitch!” Buffy snarled. “He loves you. How could you—“
Angelus finally stepped out of the shadows and into the reflected light from the apartment’s open door. Buffy almost gasped at his appearance as it became obvious that Spike had given as good as he got in their fight. The old vampire did not approach the doorway, carefully staying well out of reach of Buffy’s tightly clenched stake. Drusilla immediately moved to his side, smiling and murmuring when he pulled her against his chest, running one hand over her breasts as the other crossed her stomach possessively.
The two vampires faced the teen-aged Slayer, laughing at the look of sudden understanding and dismay on her face as her former boyfriend’s hands began to stroke and caress the now-moaning vampiress. Buffy watched in horror as Angelus ran a hand under Drusilla’s long dress and up her leg, pulling the dress with it. He was just slipping the hand between her opening thighs when Giles pulled Buffy further into the room and slammed the door.
He sighed in sympathetic understanding as Buffy’s face crumpled and she collapsed to the floor in tears. He allowed her to cry for her lost naivete for a few minutes, then gently pulled her to her feet and gestured to the inert man on the floor.
“Rather than crying for the vampire that is trying to hurt you, Buffy, I think you need to concentrate on the one who clearly was trying to save you. Without Spike’s warning, we would have been completely unprepared for an attack and I doubt it would have gone so well for us.”
Buffy took a shuddering breath and nodded her head in agreement. She fell to her knees beside Spike and stroked his cold, pale face before looking up at her Watcher for help.
“What do I do for him? I don’t know what’s wrong. He isn’t dust, so I guess that means he’ll heal…?”
“I feel sure he will heal eventually, Buffy. We will have to get some blood for him as soon as the stores open in the morning. In the meantime…”
As he spoke, he was spreading a sheet on his couch and gestured toward it. Buffy nodded and picked up the vampire, carefully dragging him to the makeshift bed and placing him on it. She removed his heavy boots and the leather duster that had somehow survived the battle with only a few new tears, then covered him with a light blanket. She stepped back, unsure of what else she could do but knowing that she had to do something.
A sound at the window brought her head around and she grabbed her stake again as Angelus leered in at her. She heard a muttered, “Bloody hell, I almost forgot!” behind her as Giles quickly began a disinvite spell against the vampire.
As the barrier went up, the old vampire laughed, shaking his finger at the Watcher as though to scold him for locking him out. Then his face was gone and Giles hastily pulled the curtains, gesturing for Buffy to do the same at the other windows. When the apartment was secured and secluded from the outside, they relaxed and dropped into chairs, each lost in thought over the way life had changed for them.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Since I'm off work for today and probably tomorrow, I'm going to try to get this whole story up, three chapters at a time. But, I have writing I need to get done too, so I can't promise it will all happen that quickly. I'll do my best.