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Chapter Seven


"Dru." Spike's voice cut through the relatively empty store like a knife.

Buffy silently followed his eyeline over the top of her head. She spun, her body tensed and muscles coiled, ready to spring into battle. Two years on the run had not made her lenient about her training, quite the opposite. She didn't patrol nightly like Dawn and Spike thought, she hunted. She pushed her body further and faster, eliminating her foes and stalking those that dared not show their faces until her muscles burned and nausea settled in. And when Buffy returned to the apartment after quietly retching into some bushes, she would often cry herself to sleep. The tears weren't a product of the pain that coursed throughout her body or the lingering nausea in her stomach; it was because it wasn't enough. When Glory came it wouldn't be enough. And despite Spike's often repeated vow that they could run forever and never be found Buffy knew the truth. One day the other shoe would drop; it had to.

So when Buffy heard that name, familiar and dangerous, she leapt into action, her body a deadly weapon. As she turned she grabbed the stake tucked into her back waistband with liquid lightning fast reflexes and plunged it forward, straight into air? "What?" Buffy questioned her foe, which was only a rack of shirts. Stake still in hand and eyes surveying the horizon for danger she spoke to companion. "Spike, what happened?"

Spike stood under the harsh fluorescent lights causing him to appear paler than usual. His hands were balled into useless fists at his sides and his eyes were wild with confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't force the words out. How was he to explain what he didn't comprehend?

"Spike?" Buffy implored, still in a fighting stance, stake securely in her hand, tiny splinters pressing into her palm. "What's going on?"


*****


Janice hurried down the darkened street, pulling Dawn along behind her. Dawn’s eyes were frantically darting around, constantly in search of danger. Janice could feel the tensed muscles under her thin sleeve, and inwardly gulped. Though she may have put a brave front on earlier, she was secretly afraid of the aura of power Dawn seemed to unknowingly carry with her. She was glad she was a friend and not a threat. Janice had already been on that side of the fence, and she didn’t relish the idea of going back.

Dawn shivered, not so much from the cool night air, as from the hand gripping her arm. “Jeez, your hands are freezing!” She complained, pulling her arm away. She eyed the tiny shirt her friend was wearing. “Don’t you ever wear a jacket?”

Janice stopped and rolled her eyes. “Don’t have one.” She said simply.

“Aren’t you cold?” Dawn said incredulously.

“Not really. I don’t really notice the weather anymore…not since Sunnydale.” She grabbed Dawn’s arm again and resumed her break-neck pace.

“Strong grip you got there.” Dawn muttered under her breath, trying her best to keep up.





*****


"Spike?" Buffy pleaded again, her body alert but eyes seeing nothing that posed a threat. "Where is she?"

For a moment his mind went hazy and Buffy's voice sounded distant and soft. He turned to look at Buffy and blinked hard. Red cloaked her, the heat and blood flowing beneath shinning through almost translucent skin, calling to him. He took a step forward body shaking as a voice whispered in his ear encouraged him. "Feed. Take her."

"No!" Spike cried forcefully, hanging on to shredded willpower by the tips of his fingers.

"No?" Buffy asked, eyes narrowing. "You're not gonna tell me where she is? Spike! This is Drusilla we are talking about! She could hurt a lot of people! Don't you even care to at least find out why she is here?"

The voice closed in behind him, soft drawn-out vowels and harsh quick consonants. “If you do not finish your supper, you shall have no cakes. Be a good boy and eat for Mommy."

Buffy with one last 360 glance loosened her grip on her stake and slowly approached a visibly trembling Spike. Her steps were slow and cautious as if she were trying to touch a wild animal. Spike drew back slightly as she stood in front of him, his head shaking no. "Spike? Are you okay?"

Spike didn't need to answer. It was crystal clear that he most definitely was not okay. His nails were cutting crescent moons into the flesh of his tightly balled fists. Buffy was standing closer now, so close he could feel the heat radiating off of her. He waited for the voice to return to taunt him, to tempt him but it didn't return, almost as if Buffy's presence had blocked it out.

"Is it because you saw Drusilla?" Spike's blue orbs caught Buffy's hazel eyes for a fraction of a second before pulling away. Buffy wanted to give him a moment to collect himself but couldn't afford the luxury, if Drusilla was nearby there was probably a reason. "I didn't see her, Spike. But she was here, right?" Buffy prodded gently, resting a hand on Spike's arm trying to offer some sorta manufactured stability to the situation. "I need you to tell me where she went."

He wanted to say into thin air but his one of her words suddenly caught his ear. "You didn't see her?"

Buffy repressed an urge to trade barbs with him over the idiocy of that last question when second before she had just told him that. "No, I didn't see her."

"She wasn't here, then." Spike concluded mind clicking into place pieces that fit but a picture that didn't. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong. His mind was slipping, his concentration dwindling and he knew if he could just think he would know why, except he couldn't think. Buffy's eyes were on him then with an anger and disbelief he had seen before and he knew he couldn't explain. He knew that even if he knew what was wrong he couldn't lay that burden on her weighted shoulders, whatever the burden was. So he reached for a lie. "Sorry. There was a woman wearing a dress Dru used to have."

Buffy's mouth hung open in incredulous frustration. "You saw a dress? That's what all that was about?"

Spike shifted uncomfortable. "Sorry must have zoned out. Reminiscing and what not."

"Reminiscing." Buffy repeated cheek flushed with color as she tucked her stake away and tossed in the green shirt she had dropped in the confusion. "Of course..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Buffy turned back to face him, angry vibrating off of her skin. Her look sent a chill up his spine. "You know what it means." And with that she pushed the cart past him and didn't look back.


******


"What's going on here?" Manx stood next to Janice gesturing to Dawn's long brunette locks.

Dawn was in total shock. Janice expected to her to get her hair cut in this dump?! There were no windows; the carpet was a puke-green with stains that suspiciously looked like blood. The air was stale and old, like no one had been living there for a long time. She hugged her arms around herself, doing her best not to touch anything.

Janice smirked. “Kid needs a new ‘do. You know, she doesn’t really want to be…herself anymore.”

Manx grinned at the not-so-subtle implication. Rubbing his pudgy, orange fingers together, he looked at Dawn. “Let’s get to work!” He said with a leer.

Dawn winced, looking ‘Manx’ up and down. His hair was dark brown and greasy, and, like Janice, he wore all black. Looking at the tone of his hands and face, she bit back a grin. Looks like someone used a little too much fake tanner. She thought smugly. She perched on the edge of the cracked swivel chair. Taking a deep breath, she sighed. “Okay, I’m ready.”

An hour and a half later it was done. Manx took the apron off of her with a dramatic flair. “Ta-da! My best work ever!” He said proudly.

Dawn looked around expectantly for a mirror. “I want to see. Where’s your mirror?”

Manx and Janice looked at each other and laughed. “Well, you heard the kid, she wants a mirror.” Manx told Janice, gesturing to a small set of drawers against the wall.

“What’s so funny?” Dawn asked, bewildered at their response to her request.

Janice rummaged around for a few minutes, finally coming up with a small compact. Walking over, she dropped it in Dawn’s lap. “Nothing, hun. Just, uh, the kind of people we normally hang out with? Well, they don’t have much use for mirrors.”

Dawn looked at her, wondering what she meant.

As if reading her mind, Janice answered her unspoken question. “Let’s just say they don’t really want to see themselves…the way others do.”

Dawn left it alone, concentrating instead of her new ‘look’. It was shorter, a little above her shoulders, and fell in soft layers. It curled slightly, giving it a wavy look. Manx had changed the color, but subtly. It was a deep auburn, with dark golden-blonde highlights all through it. Janice had done her make-up to compliment her new look, dusky green eye shadow, with an earthy brown liner. Her lips were lightly touched with red, and then glossed over to give them a healthy sheen.

Dawn was speechless. She could have easily passed for eighteen, even twenty-one! “Oh my God…” She breathed.

Janice smiled, genuinely pleased. “I take it you like it?” She said softly.

Dawn got up, hugging her friend. “Like it? I love it!” She said enthusiastically. Turning to Manx, she smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He replied, taking the mirror back from her.

Janice cleared her throat, hard demeanor back in place. “Now, about my favor…”

*****

Spike sighed, running a hand over his face and through his bleach blonde locks. He knew a smarter man would have left it be, however he wasn't that man. He tore after finally catching up to her as she unloaded the cart in front of a blue vested worker. Just perfect, he really wanted to have this conversation in front of someone with the words 'How May I Help You?' printed across their back. "Buffy, would you just tell me what that was about back there?"

Buffy glanced up at him as she uploaded the cart, his box of Wheatabix landing on its side on the conveyor belt, contains nearly spilling out. "You mean after your little memory romp with Drusilla aka The Ho?"

Spike rolled his eyes trying not to grind his teeth. "I thought we talked about you calling her that."

"You're right, Spike we did." Buffy tossed her two shirts to the early morning employee, not paying attention to the shocked look painted on her face. "Because we spend a good portion of our time talking about her and setting up ground rules about her because you're always bringing her up!"

"I bring her up?" Spike scoffed. "You bring her up every bleedin' second of the day n' night! Every time you got an itch you can’t scratch, you gotta pick a fight and go back into trying to feed you to her, which I was never gonna do by the way. You need to stop dwelling on one tiny incident."

"A tiny incident?" Buffy huffed. “I think almost getting fed to someone is a pretty big deal. Not a tiny incident."

"It's been two years, Slayer, get a new soddin' song!"

"And Dru dumped you how long ago?" Buffy pushed the old familiar buttons. "Maybe you should stop by the CD department and pick up one of those new songs you were just talkin' about!"

Hot anger leapt in Spike's belly, he was about to retaliate when the clerk piped up. "I'm sorry," She looked to Buffy, concern evident. "But did you just say he tried to feed you to someone?"

Without her mouth slightly agape Buffy sent Spike a pointed 'now look what you did' look before plastering a fake smile on. "Of course not! I was talking about my..." She fumbled for a word, as she caught site of a reader digest style magazine named Cat Lover. "My cat."

"He tired to feed your cat to someone?" The woman seemed even more freaked than she had at the thought of him trying to feed Buffy to someone.

Buffy slightly annoyed that her well-being obviously meant less than her fake pet. "No. He tried to feed my goldfish to my cat, Drusilla."

"Wait." The woman frowned. "Didn't you just call her a 'ho'? Cats should be treated with respect."

Buffy was about to launch into another unplausible explanation, when Spike, whose temper had been rising stepped in. "I see you've got 'How May I Help You?' written on the back of that pretty blue vest you’re wearing."

"Yes." The woman bobbed her head proudly.

"Well it would be a great help if you could just shut your bleedin' pie hole and finish bagging the damn shit so I can get out of this festering hell hole!" He leaned over the partition, his rants echoed throughout the store.

Buffy turned away ashamed but didn't say a word as the clerk quickly finished the transaction. Then she grabbed up the bags and broke out into a brisk walk, making her way out of the store. Spike sighed and paid, fishing money from his wallet, a dropping the woman and extra five. "Sorry." He mumbled before taking after Buffy.

"Buffy, wait!" Spike called as he dropped down into the sewer after her, replacing the manhole cover with shaking arms. She walked ahead of him, still angry from their fight earlier. He quickened his stride to keep up, before the smell of the sewer hit him, stopping him in his tracks.

The stench was overwhelming normally to Spike’s sensitive nose, but in his depleted state, it was too much. He breathed in needless air in large gulps making the situation worse as bile filled his mouth and he fought to push it down. Spike gagged once, then twice, and then vomited up the Wheatabix he had shared with Buffy in the store. He gripped for the wall of the slime covered sewer and tried to straighten himself. Green spots danced before him, becoming a blur, and he struggled for a moment, before giving in, the demon taking over.

“What is your problem, Spike?! Come on already!” Buffy snapped, glaring at him.

Spike crouched down, growling low in his throat. He didn’t know what had happened to Buffy, but he wasn’t about to let the hell-god standing in front of him to get her.

“Whoa, Spike. What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, backing away while reaching for the stake in her back pocket.

Spike didn’t answer, sound not connecting. His amber eyes latched onto his foe in front of him. He was operating on pure instinct. Survive. Find Buffy. Survive. Find Buffy. The words repeated in his mind, creating a morbid mantra. Growling at his opponent, demon in full force, he lunged.



TBC: Due to a loss in the Family, and such Real Life Issues Chapter Eight will not be posted until March 7th. Sorry for the delay but we promise to make it an extra long, extra special chapter to compensate.





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