Author's Chapter Notes:
Oh yeah, baby, a new chapter. A bit longer than the last one but I'm sure you'll cope. ;)

Beta: the amazing All4Spike
Chapter 7

A lunch tray landed next to hers with a resounding clank. Startled, Buffy looked up from the sludge of mash potatoes that strongly resembled a yellowish chunk of mud.

So not edible.

“Are you always this mope-y?” Anya sat down at the small table only occupied by Buffy.

“What?” She frowned, slanting the brunette a confused glance.

“You know, if you keep up the frowning thing, it will give you premature wrinkles.”

Buffy blinked. “We wouldn’t want that,” she finally replied dryly.

“Was that sarcasm? I’m not good with sarcasm.” She stuck a soggy fry in her mouth. “I’d rather get to the point.”

“Don’t take this personally, but why are you here?”

Now it was Anya’s turn to frown. “I’m eating lunch. Even if it’s disgusting. I think the cooking lady might be a Knolob demon. It would explain the sock-like smell around the kitchens.”

What the hell was a Knob demon? “No, what I meant was… well, shouldn’t you be sitting at the table with Harmony and other cheerleaders?”

Anya shrugged. “They’re boring. All they talk about is where they’re going to buy their prom dress. And none of them seems to be aware that America is on the brink of financial collapse.”

Anya was definitely strange. But since Buffy wasn’t all that kosher herself, she really didn’t mind. It was kind of nice to talk to someone.

“Yup, heard about the whole recession thingy. Dad’s always talking about it,” Buffy said. “He owns the grocery store.”

Anya nodded. “Small businesses fall down like rotten apples.”

“Gee, that’s encouraging.”

“Oh, but you see, Sunnydale offers no interest to the big chains of supermarkets since there’s like… fifty people here. Plus, small town people prefer family values and all that crap. I think your dad will be okay.”

“That’s… actually strangely comforting.”

Anya beamed.

Buffy chewed, deciding whether she’d swallow or spit it out into a napkin. “And this definitely tastes like socks. Think you might be right about the demon thing.”

“I do love open-minded people,” Anya said at Buffy’s approval of the demon theory and pushed her tray away. “So, are you going to tell me why you were moping?”

“I wasn’t! That’s my normal Buffy face,” she said. “I think.”

“Now that’s just unfortunate,” Anya commented seriously and Buffy didn’t know whether she should be offended or amused.

*******

He was such a wanker, Spike thought as he made his way through a nearby cemetery.

How could he not have put two and two together? No, instead the fact that the fiery slip of a girl was the same he’d saved had flown right over his head. In his defense, it was what… nine years ago? It was only after he’d seen the drawings that the proverbial light bulb flickered over his head, and it fully ignited as soon as she confronted him.

So yeah, he’d lied to her.

They had met before. But what was he supposed to tell her? Oh yeah, by the way, remember that time your mum tried to sacrifice you to a bunch of vampires so she could join their ranks? Right, you can’t because I’d used a bloody forgetting spell on you!

That would go over well. He’d probably get kneed in the balls. Again.

And why she remembered his hands of all things… Hell, she shouldn’t remember anything.

Fucking magic never works when you need it. Always got to have a price tag attached.

Spike kicked a pebble in his path and watched them skip ahead of him on the pavement. God, the look on her face… stubborn little bird like her wasn’t supposed to make him feel. Least of all sympathy. Watching her slide right into a panic attack when he wouldn’t back down reminded him too much of his stay back at the foster home. He and panic attacks were old chums, though he hadn’t had one in years, but seeing a reflection of William in her stricken eyes had hit close to home. Too close.

“Sod this,” Spike muttered with a self-deprecating snicker and stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. That wasn’t who he was anymore.

The fact he had to quell the urge to apologise to her was enough to cement his belief he ought to keep some distance. Not just from her but from everyone. None of the folk in sleepy little Sunnydale would know the first thing about the real world, especially since they considered it to be a work of fantasy. After all, spells and vampires weren’t real, now were they? The monsters under the bed weren’t supposed to be literal to the point where they munched off your foot as if it was crème brulée.

And if she knew the things he’d done, she’d think he was a monster too. Wouldn’t be wrong either.

Did he want to protect her from it?

Nah. That couldn’t be it. He’d stopped caring a long time ago.

Probably long before he’d killed his first human being.

Yeah, I’m a real hero.

*******

Nine Years Before

“You’re guarding the side entrance. Kill any vampire that tries to cross,” said Rupert Giles, the man who had given him a home when he’d lost everything for the second time. William owed him his life.

They stood facing each other, hidden in the shadows of a deserted alley nearby an abandoned district warehouse in LA.

“What about the crazy wannabes?” William asked, absentmindedly drawing the stake from the waistband of his jeans. He’d seen what vampires were capable of first hand. Could hardly believe anyone would worship at their murderous feet. Bunch of ignorant children who probably found vampirism awfully romantic. He really couldn’t find it in himself to care if they got eaten. They volunteered, didn’t they?

He may have been sixteen but he felt as though decades had piled up on top of him with the shit he’d been through in the last three years. It felt as if he was fighting every second of every day even if he was sitting alone in his room. Maybe especially then.

Giles looked decidedly flustered as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, a move that could be seen even with the moon their only source of light. “W-well, they’re still human…”

William rolled his eyes. “I know that. Not like I’m going to drive a stake through their hearts. Just figured I’d ask what to do about them.”

“Ah… perhaps you could help anyone injured?”

“Are you asking me?”

Giles let out a short exasperated exhale. “I’m telling you.”

“No need to get grumpy,” William said with a snicker he couldn’t quite hide and bounced on his feet, his fingers drumming against the rusty spike strapped to his thigh.

Slowly others started to trickle in to the meeting point. About ten men dressed mostly in dark colours, scruffy and armed. Rogue demon hunters, some of them ex-council members just like Rupert, most of them just men who’d seen the real face of the world and couldn’t stand idly by while people got slaughtered. Some of them probably got into the gig same way he did, he figured.

By losing someone beloved.

Main reason he was here, stalking towards the side entrance, stake a rough weight in his palm. Dust a few vamps, get in some nasty jibes towards those who hadn’t managed to turn themselves into main course, perhaps get a lead on Angelus. This, after all, had the wanker’s stink all over it.

That was what his life had become and he wouldn’t let himself be fooled that happiness was in store for him. That he could have something worth fighting for beside vengeance and bloodshed. Not this time.

Then again he’d never expected to see the little girl served up on a steel table that looked like it had been stolen from a morgue. A sacrificial lamb offered to be torn apart by a pack of hungry wolves.

Christ, she was so young. He probably had about ten years on her.

God knew he shouldn’t give a buggering fuck, but his heart wasn’t nearly as cold as he’d like it to be. Damn thing just wouldn’t clue in to the fact that he didn’t want it to feel.

Still, as soon as they barged through the thick metal door, William’s feet pounded towards the makeshift altar. Bugger the plan, the strategy of guarding the side entrance. This was more important.

Chaos reigned, people screamed. Somewhere to his right, flames burst to life and flared up the heavy black curtains that covered the windows. There were snarls, the sound of bodies hitting the floor, the whiz of arrows. To him it melted into background noise. He pushed forward, carelessly shoved aside anything or anyone in his way to get to her. Managed to dust a couple of vamps during his mad dash.

Just a few seconds was all it took. Just a bloody flick of his eyes away from the goal as a body tumbled right down at his feet, tripping him. The stake flew out of his grasp and by the time he leaped back to his feet, she was gone.

“Fuck,” he muttered and wildly searched the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of her golden hair.

Ah, there she was, scrambling through the battling hunters and vampires. He saw her run through a side door that would only lead her deeper into the warehouse. A vampire jumped into his way, fangs gleaming, inhuman growl rumbling out.

Without breaking his stride, he pulled out the spike and stabbed the vampire straight between its eyes, deep enough that he could hear the squelch of its brains when he pulled the spike out. Brain damage wouldn’t kill it, but it would slow the vampire down enough for someone else to finish the job.

William jumped over the body, sheathed the spike back in its place and jogged through the same door. Cold air replaced the inferno in the room he had left behind, the cement walls of the corridor muffling the sounds of the scuffle. His feet pounded, cool air stretched his lungs. God, he hoped she hadn’t dashed in the completely opposite direction.

Another set of feet padded somewhere ahead and he quickened his steps. Soon he could see the little mite stumbling over the ground littered with decade old debris. His own steps were loud enough. She glanced over her shoulder but seemingly stared right through him, gave no indication that she saw him at all. She probably didn’t spot him right away due to his dark clothes that melted into the shadows. That, or utter panic.

He figured it was a bit of both.

He took a few long strides and was within reaching distance. He lifted her up and covered her mouth right as she opened it to let out a scream.

“Shh, gotta stay quite, lamb.”

She struggled and kicked, so he banded his arms around her tighter, murmuring into her ear, “Not gonna hurt you. Just here to help. I’m not one of those nasty buggers.”

When she calmed down and nodded, he took his hand away. With how hard she was shaking, he figured the poor girl wouldn’t be up to standing on her own feet so he heaved her higher in his arms, turning her to face him as he did. She panted, her big green eyes glistening with tears as they met his. It felt strange when she wrapped her limbs around him so tightly it almost hurt. Tugged at his heart, it did.

“Where do you live? ‘M going to take you home.”

Her brows drew together in confusion before she stammered out an address.

Rupert would have to manage on his own.

He carried her all the way home even though it was far and she was heavy. The walk was that much longer since he had to avoid populated areas. Wouldn’t do to hail a taxi and raise suspicions either. He could only imagine what it would look like if someone spotted them. Him, a teenage delinquent with knife tucked in his boot and a bloodied spike covered in the remnants of a vampire’s brains strapped to his thigh. And her?

God, she trembled so hard it vibrated off his skin, her silent tears hot against his throat. Not to mention her hands and knees were smeared with blood. She must have fallen and scraped them on a pavement at some point.

Yeah, he’d be accused of kidnapping or worse before he could blink.

The long journey was spent in silence as she clung to him as if he was her lifeline. That made him feel vaguely uncomfortable. He wasn’t a selfless white hat, though she probably thought so. He was in it for revenge, not to help damsels in distress, no matter what age.

Still, he couldn’t not help her.

She was still dressed in her nightie. This oversized violet thing with tiny daises on it that made her look even more vulnerable. With her honey blond hair, those big eyes and pouty lips, he knew she’d be a real looker one day. Break some hearts once she got a thorough therapy.

Her parents had to be scared witless right about now. Then he wondered if they’d noticed she was missing yet, as deep in the night as it was.

When he finally reached her house, all the lights were off. He rang and rang again but nobody answered.

Strange.

“You sure this is your house, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“But nobody’s home.”

“Dad’s working tonight,” she whispered, her voice rough.

“What about mum?”

Her lips thinned and she drew in a shuddering breath. “The key should be in the pot,” she said instead and he knew better than to pry.

He bent over to let her down though it took her a few seconds to let go completely. Sure enough, the key was in the cheery yellow pot with some kind of hideous plant in it.

Bloody Americans.

Once he’d unlocked the door, with silent pleading eyes, she looked up at him and stretched out her arms.

“Manipulative little bint,” he muttered but lifted her into his tired arms anyway. “Aren’t you a tad big to be carried around?”

She pathetically sniffled and said, “Nope.”

“Cheeky.”

She patted her cheeks and frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”

William smiled ruefully and shook his head.

He asked her name but she only told him she liked the way he called her kitten better, so he went along with that.

She refused to let him contact her father, saying he couldn’t afford to miss work because of her. His attempts to find her dad’s phone number proved to be fruitless and she stubbornly kept silent about it. After giving up on it for now, he took her up to her room, then called Rupert to let him know where to bring that infernal book of handy spells. Though that was the last resort in William’s mind. Magic was unpredictable and only to be used sparingly.

“Kitten?” he asked, kneeling down next to her bed.

“Yeah?” her eyes peeked at him from under the mountain of blankets he’d thrown over her.

“If you could, would you want to forget what happened tonight?”

She fell silent, the base of her little nose crinkled as she mulled it over. “Yes.”

“What if I told you I could do that? Make you forget.”

She rolled from her side onto her belly and wriggled out of her blankets far enough so that she could look him fully in the eye. A bit strange to be stared at with such intensity by an eight-year-old.

“But I don’t want to forget you. Only the bad parts.”

He sighed. “I’m not some knight in shining armor. I’ve done my fair share of bad things. Awful, terrible things.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible,” she said seriously.

“Well, what do you know? You’re a child.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not terrible, but you’re stupid, you know that?”

He almost laughed, so surprised he was by that swift retaliation. The bit sure had a sharp wit.

“Nobody likes a smartass,” he remarked, a reluctant grin tugging at his mouth.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You don’t look that much older than me anyway.”

“Don’t I?”

“No. I could totally marry you when I’m all grown up.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Been a while since anyone had a crush on him, if ever. Even if it was a short lived one that she would undoubtedly forget about the very next day even if he didn’t use the forgetting spell.

“But I don’t want to marry anyone,” she said with a faraway look.

“So you don’t fancy having a big house with little kids and a yapping dog running about?”

“No.”

William folded his arms on the mattress and propped his chin there. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “I want to be happy.”

Right, kid from a broken home. That would explain a few things. She’d probably taken a hike on the dear old dad.

“Not all married people are unhappy,” he countered even though he wasn’t sure whether he sounded even half convincing. After all, his father had left his mum before him and Eline were born. A real stand up bloke, that one.

“I’d rather buy a car,” she said, making him laugh more genuinely than he had in a long time.

“So you’d rather buy a car than marry me?” He gave her a wounded look.

Her cheeks turned pink and she ducked her head. “Well, you’re kinda okay.”

William winked at her, amused that it made her blush even harder.

The moment of camaraderie was interrupted by the door bell chiming.

Rupert and his spell book.

The rest was up to her.

TBC





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