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“We need to kill him,” Buffy said.

She was leaning against Tara’s shoulder and holding her hand. Tara had been consoling the other girl for the better part of an hour, finally coaxing her to speech. Of course, when Buffy had regained her composure, her first thought was to destroy Spike. He couldn't blame her after everything she’d been through, but it pained his silent heart.

“Buffy, I t,t,told you he’s not going t,t,to hurt anyone, his s,s,soul—“

“I've heard of the spell before, but there’s no way of knowing what will happen when you die. There’s no record of how it would work with a vampire,” Buffy said.

“He’s my brother,” Tara said, as though that were a rational argument.

Spike, who was sitting Indian-style before the two women, folded his hands.

“He’s also sitting right here, ducks. The both of you need to stop talking about me like I’m not around. Besides, we’ve got to get out of here before the sun sets, Angel’s probably got his goulies set to play as soon as the streetlights pop on,” Spike said.

He stood up, rubbing his hands on his thighs to shake the dust from his filthy jeans. Tara looked up at him lovingly; Buffy refused to even glance at him. The way she kept her chin pointed down reminded him of all the times she’d brought him off without meeting his gaze. He was getting to her, Spike thought, grimly.

Buffy slowly sat up, her back straight. Spike wished he hadn’t added another burden on her narrow shoulders. She didn’t look at either of the McClays when she spoke.

“He'll burn in the sunlight. It won't set for another hour at least,” Buffy said.

Tara shifted, looking at Buffy’s profile.

“We'll t,t,throw my coat over the exposed s,s,skin. Did you drive here?” Tara asked.

“I did. If he's coming with us he's riding in the trunk,” Buffy said.

“What if I'm claustrophobic?” Spike asked. He had a sudden flash of waking up in the dark, covered in dirt, clawing his way up. The thought of getting into the trunk made him feel ill. Tara picked up on his anxiety. They exchanged a look and he knew she understood.

“If you don’t get in the trunk, then you die for real this time, and I don’t have to figure out how to deal with you,” Buffy said.

Tara stood up quickly, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.

“What do you mean, deal with him?”

Buffy's voice warmed as she addressed Tara.

“I can’t let him go, Tara until we figure out if he’s dangerous,” Buffy said.

“Toy, love—“

Buffy was suddenly clutching the front of Spike’s muddy t-shirt. She held him aloft and his legs wheeled, like a spider descending from a web.

“Don’t call me love. You can’t love. You’re a monster,” she said.

She dropped him and he landed with a grunt, his legs smacking the earth hard. Tara was by his side, helping him up. His sister shot Buffy a look of pure anger—Spike had never seen that expression on Tara’s gentle face.

“You don’t have a free pass t,t,t,to abuse him,” Tara said.

“Kinda do, it’s in my job title,” Buffy said, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at Tara defiantly. Tara put her arm around Spike’s waist.

“We’re leaving,” Tara said.

Buffy sighed and then took a step forward.

“That’s not your brother, that’s the thing that killed him. The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be. This whole housebroken routine could be an act, a game,” Buffy said. She was flailing her arm at him and her voice sounded raw.

“It’s not, I feel it,” Tara said.

“You can go, but he has to stay with me, or I’ll be forced to dust him,” Buffy said.

Spike put his arm around Tara and looked down at his sister. He spoke in a soothing voice that had always eased her fears as a child.

“I’ll go with her wherever she wants to take me. Whatever she does, it’s alright, pet. I can take it,” Spike said.

“It's not alright, I can do a protective s,s,spell, ward her off,” Tara said.

“I can outlast you, Tara,” Buffy said.

“Listen to me, both of you. I will ride in the bloody trunk, just stop this,” Spike said.

Something inside Buffy seemed to break and her voice fell a few octaves as she spoke.

“Fine, I'll pull the car around, then lift you out first, Tara,” Buffy said.

“Billy goes first,” Tara said.

Buffy put her hands on her hips, exasperated.

“Alright, Spike will go first, but I’m putting him in handcuffs,” she said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, Toy,” Spike said.

Buffy finally looked at him.

“Yeah, but it could be the last,” she said.

Buffy turned from them and bounded across the dirt floor to the circle of daylight she'd carved out. Spike watched her ascend to the surface; she was able to get out of the basement in one, preternatural leap. He heard her light, retreating step on the ground outside. Tara was gripping his waist so tightly it should've hurt, but it didn’t.

“S,s,she'll kill you,” Tara whispered.

“I won't give her a reason,” Spike said.

He could hear the clack of a car door opening and then slamming; the radio was playing something tinny before Buffy switched it off. Spike suspected auto-tuning.

“What if s,s,she doesn't need a reason?” Tara asked. She looked up at him and he saw that tears were hovering in the corners of her eyes. Spike cupped her face and swiped the bright drop away with his thumb. Tara couldn’t return his smile.

He heard an engine turning over and the crunch of wheels on gravel.

“I don't want you to be a prisoner, love. You've got Penny, and school,” Spike said.

Spike heard the engine cut out and Buffy’s distinctive tread coming closer. He could smell her scent getting stronger, hear the rustle of her clothes against her perfectly-shaped arms and legs.

“The s,s,second I leave, s,s,she'll dust you,” Tara said.

Suddenly, Buffy appeared a foot in front of them. Both he and Tara jumped.

“I won't end him unless he attacks one of us,” Buffy said.

She hadn't been lying when she said she'd waited with him in the alley, Spike thought. It was funny to think of how much that had mattered to him then. He wished he could apologize, but Spike was certain it would only make her ache, make her remember how she couldn't save him the second time around. Spike took in her exhausted face, her distant, green eyes. He wanted to touch her; to tell her it would be alright. That would make it worse, everything he did was making it worse.She was holding the handcuffs he'd given her in her muddy hands. The sight of them made him catch his breath out of instinct rather than need.

“Do you have an invisibility cloak?” Tara asked.
Buffy smiled.

“Enchanted ring. People only see me when I want them to,” Buffy said.

“T,t,t,that's s,s,so nifty,” Tara said, her magical interest getting the better of her distrust. “Does it blank out whatever you t,t,touch?”

“Yeah, so I won't be able to make the Citroen all stealthy, or else everyone will see you two floating along the highway,” Buffy said.

She was fingering the cuffs while she spoke. Spike couldn't take his eyes away from her slim digits tipped in the chipped, ice-blue polish he'd painted. He wondered why she'd chosen those particular handcuffs, of all things. Maybe they were the only pair she had, he thought.
Tara furrowed her brow.

“I could do a cloaking spell, but we'd need about a pound of peacock feathers,” Tara said.

“A pound? How many poor birds would you have to shake for that lot?” Spike asked.

Tara giggled, but Buffy just looked at his blood-soaked hands. He wished he could hide them from her rather than holding his wrists out to her. Buffy licked her lips, and he could hear her heartbeat increasing. Then Spike realized that he'd misunderstood. She hadn't been staring at the stain, but the hands underneath; she'd been staring at him. Buffy wouldn't look up from her task as the metal clasp snickered shut, but she did trail her finger on the vulnerable skin she was enclosing. He could smell her arousal and something else, something equally mouth watering, like carmelized onions draped across a steak. Instinctively, he knew it was fear. Spike shuddered.
Buffy looked at Tara and dropped Spike's hands, shame skittering across her features.

Tara took Spike by the arm and led him to the opening in the ceiling. He could smell the sunlight burning in his nose. Tara threw her purple, velvet coat over his head. The scent of Tara was overwhelming; she smelled like honey and lavender. He could smell Penny's gummy bear-sweet perfume along with the lingering scent of a long-ago eaten bagel Tara must have taken from the cafeteria and stuck in her pocket. Spike's stomach flipped as he was carried up in the air. He landed with a thump and then he heard the trunk shut. He heard two sets of footsteps and then noises like the girls were entering the car. He could almost visualize Buffy's thin fingers turning the key; the engine was painfully loud and the cramped space was flooding him with panic. He was lying on his side, unable to extend his legs.

As Spike felt the car jerk into motion he kept reminding himself that he was long past the point of smothering. He could hear voices along with the din of machinery, but it took him awhile to sort out all the amplified sensations. Spike strained until he was picking up the conversation.

“The tape's jammed in there and sometimes it just pops on, it's always the same song. I like to think Giles is haunting the car; I mean he owned it for like, a century or something,” Buffy said.

“I do sense an aura, maybe he's protecting you,” Tara said.

The next bit was unintelligible.

“It’s because my name was a curse. Even when I gave out a fake name, somehow it still worked,” Buffy said.

“But t,t,that didn't happen when Billy called you T,T,Toy?”

“No, I think because he chose it. It wasn’t the name thing, that’s not how he found me this time. One of Angel’s flunkies told me they were keeping track of major demonic disappearances. I guess I was just a little too prolific,” Buffy said.

Tara's voice was lost as they bounced over a pot hole.

“Maybe it would be better if you just didn't use it, or
Toy, either,” Buffy said.

Buffy drove hit another bump and Spike hit his head on the roof of the trunk. A puff of dirt came loose and he coughed, causing him to hit his head again. He missed more of what they said.

“...they have a butcher....tummy must be growling--” Buffy said.

“I woke up next to Spike’s body and then it took about t,t,three days, I t,t,think--” Tara said.

There were a lot of bumps on the way to wherever they were going, and Spike felt a headache blooming. Suddenly the speakers next to his ear sprung to life. Spike started banging on the roof of the trunk, but the song continued. It was all melodic, psychedelic guitars and a dreamy voice.

--I could've loved you, girl, like a planet, I could've chained your heart to a star--

He continued pounding his fist on the roof, making indentations in the metal.

--but it really doesn't matter at all, no it really doesn't matter at all-Life's a gas--

He heard Tara yelling over the music.

“We can't s,s,shut it off!”

--I could've turned you into a priestess, I could've burnt your fate in the sand--

“Fuck!” Spike screamed.

He stuffed his fingers in his ears, but it didn't help. Spike couldn't hear the girls talking or even the road, just the sweet strains of T-Rex warbling over and over again. The headache was shattering, it throbbed in time with the tune.

Bump. Cough. Bump. Life's a Gas.

The car stopped and then the music as well, but no one came to fetch him. He wondered if he had the strength to kick his way out. Then he heard steps.

“We're stopping for groceries, Spike. It'll be about ten minutes, don't freak. Nice dents by the way,” Buffy said.

“Are you s,s,s,sure he can hear you?” Tara asked.

In order to allay her worries, Spike tapped out shave and a haircut on the roof. He heard Tara set a hand on the metal before walking away; at least, he assumed it was Tara.


As he laid alone in the dark with his neck twisted at an awkward angle, Spike’s mind wheeled over the past few days. Drinking Lacy’s blood had quieted all the components of his cravings; the violence, the anger, the lust and of course the thirst. It sickened him to remember how right destroying her had felt. Spike doubted drinking a bowl of czarnina would have the same effect. If he couldn't control himself, Buffy would have to finish what Lacy started. More than that, he would want her to.


Chapter End Notes:
Czarina is duck blood soup. The song that keeps playing over and over again is "Life's a Gas," by T-Rex. Please let me know why you think. Comments are treasured.



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