In her apartment, Buffy went through a stack of books that Angel had given her when he’d set up her apartment. They were old, musty books. She hadn’t had any interest in them before, but Spike coming to town had opened her eyes to the fact that she needed to do some research of her own. The books were what Angel had called “Watchers' Diaries” that he had come across in his travels. Angel told her about Slayers, making them sound like a cross between a mythical creature and a goddess.
Buffy had attempted to read one once, but its first entry had been so boring; she’d given up almost before she started. The folklore books she’d read of Angel’s had been much more interesting, like scary bedtime stories.
She breezed through the first one she picked up, skimming over the handwritten words of Percy Hollingsworth. He told a tale of his becoming a Watcher and training his Slayer, named Emmeline.
Emmeline was called at the age of fourteen, and her Watcher seemed to think she wouldn’t last very long. She was skittish, and whiny, and did not embrace her calling. The thought of being a lady by day, and a vampire hunter by night was not something she was interested in doing.
Percy’s pages of entries were long, pitiful rants about his luck to get such an awful Slayer. After six months of attempting to train her, she'd killed herself. Percy’s final entry told of his anger at Emmeline and towards the Council for refusing to let him locate and train the next Slayer. The end. Buffy hoped they were not all so boring and dry.
She started a stack of ‘books she’d already read’ with Percy’s diary and picked up the next. Before she opened it, her mind wandered to the life of a Slayer. She remembered her own human life, all the excitement of growing up, the excitement at the age of fourteen. She had vivid memories of herself at that age, blossoming into womanhood, discovering life. She felt for Emmeline. The idea that her world had been turned upside down by the Watcher’s Council, forcing a life on her she didn’t ask for, trying to convince her this was her destiny. She wondered how she would have handled it, especially at such a young age. Drusilla had turned her at the age of twenty, forcing this lifestyle on her, but she had been an adult. She’d had a chance to ‘be’ what she wanted, or at least start…
Buffy sat on her couch, mourning her lost life, then mourning the Slayers' lost lives. Her thoughts turned to Spike. Why was he going by Spike vs. William? Why was he called as a Slayer? If all Slayers before him had been female, what had happened to the Slayer line after Faith had been killed? Where was his Watcher?
The next few hours were spent reading through various volumes of firsthand accounts of the Watchers’ lives with their assigned Slayers, each one ending with their death. Usually a death caused by a lost battle, and usually at a very young age. Once more her thoughts turn to Spike. How much longer would he last? Especially without someone to train and watch over him.
By daybreak, she’d managed to read all the diaries Angel had given her. The stories were heartbreaking, each and every one. When she had stacked the last volume on her ‘read’ stack on the floor, she was worried. She’d been drawn to Spike from the first time she’d laid eyes on him, but there was something more. Something she couldn’t explain, but she needed to not only talk to Angel about him, she also needed to talk to him directly.
She laid down on the couch, dozing off as the last thoughts of her day drifted through her tired mind, I need to find him as soon as I wake up, tell him everything I know. I will watch over him. I won’t let anything happen to him, I can’t.
Spike and Clem had passed out on opposite ends of the couch, the TV now showing daytime soap operas, and the empty bowl of cheesy puffs abandoned between them. Spike shifted in his uncomfortable sleeping position and the bowl fell to the floor with a loud clank.
Clem jumped, startled awake by the sound. “What the …?!” He’d jumped up, looking for a place to hide.
“Clem! It was just a bowl, and I’m the only one here! Relax, all is well.” Spike picked up the bowl and placed it next to the empty bottles and cans on the coffee table.
Clem settled back on to the couch. “Sorry, still a little jumpy around here. Never know when someone might decide my place is nicer than theirs…”
“I thought you said all was better around here with Buffy patrolling the Hellmouth?” Spike looked to Clem, concerned for his new friend.
“Well, yeah, but she can only patrol at night. Remember? Vampire.”
“Is there a lot of demon activity during the day here?”
“Sometimes. Sunnydale is home to all species of demons. Can’t be too careful is all I’m saying.” Clem got up and walked back to his kitchen area. “You hungry?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t impose.” Spike dug into his pockets, finding a few dollars he’d gotten off of the bodies of demons he’d killed that were covered in too much blood or slime. “I’ve got enough to grab some breakfast, but I might have to look for a day job to support my eating habit.”
Clem had seen him count out the few dollars in his pockets. “Tell you what, I’m gonna whip up some food and you are more than welcome to share. As a matter of fact, if you want, you are welcome to hang out here as long as you want. I’ve got a part time job, rent’s cheap, and you’re good company. Plus, a Slayer houseguest has its perks around here. What do ya say?”
Spike sat silently for a minute before answering, shocked. This ‘evil’ demon was not only offering him friendship, but room and board. He had been wrong. Clem was good demon.
“Well, I uh…” he stumbled on his words, flustered and unsure of what to say. “I don’t feel right imposing on you, but I appreciate the offer.”
“No imposition at all, and I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, it will be fun. Now, I got Lucky Charms and Cheerios. Which one do you want?” Clem had bowls and spoons already out.
Spike smiled. Clem wanted him here. Growing up in an orphanage, never being adopted, he’d never known anyone to want him around. It felt really good.
“I will pay you back, I promise. And thanks.” His voice caught in his throat.
Clem heard the catch and quickly changed the subject. He didn’t want Spike to feel embarrassed at his emotions, “No worries, friend. Now, Cheerios or Lucky Charms?”