He’d offered Giles ‘the talk’ when he was ready but had ignored the plan for weeks in hopes his demon would talk him straight. Had altered his belief in himself in such a zigzag of confusion that it seemed better to contemplate nothing at all, block the option right out of his head until the unimaginable happened and everyone forgot. Accepted him so thoroughly on his face value that they dismissed his need of a chain, a bond to keep him on a guarantee that he didn’t want to give.
Except that was a lie. His demon did want it. Did want to leash himself in a way that was almost embarrassing. But to be fair all around, all of Spike had wanted to belong to Buffy for years now. That his demon was pushing him up to the plate, pushing him into finally getting that info and presenting it to the Watcher, was suddenly a priority that no part of Spike felt like he could ignore.
It didn’t help that Buffy had been watching him. Keeping her eye on every one of his moves, succumbing to his embrace with a nervous twitch and a quick look around them in what he could only assume was a protective action. Her trust in him had been compromised by the confrontation with Angelus and Dru. The call that had enticed Spike to his sire for that short moment had crumbled Buffy’s confidence in him, and it wasn’t taking much for him to admit that he needed to do something to get it back. Do something to make her feel safe and loved—trust him again. He needed to trust himself again.
Dru had always been a dark, magical lure through the horrors of the night for him. That night at the Bronze, the night her rite of possession called and tempted him to return to the fold was not long enough ago. It had caused question marks to appear in Buffy’s eyes—this time she was far too aware of the influence evil still had on him in the guise of his sire, where last time she had been too consumed in herself and her hatred of him to see the threat. This Buffy was more sensitive to his moods, to his movements—and she loved him. Held him with the strongest bonds available in the world-—heartstrings. So, unlike the last time this happened—when the evil filtered into his conscience and let him think it was okay to chain up the one he loved and offer her as a snack to his sire if she refused such kinky affections—this time she had clear eyes. Concerned eyes. This time she saw the threat and was damaged by it.
Frightened by it.
He wandered through the darkness and uncertainty of time, gathering and discarding information as it came to light—interpreting beyond the malice of which the news was offered. He was hated in this time, passing amongst them with not even the excuse of a chip for turning on his kind. But still he had enough ferocity left in his reputation to hold the demon world loyal and respectful, and so he got what he needed over a time and was finally ready to present it to the Watcher.
He ended up at Rupert’s door, much more nervous even than he’d been when he first found himself in this time; first found himself cast adrift in a world where Buffy wasn’t yet fooled into love with someone cruel and selfish.
His knock was short, to the point and was answered in almost the same manner. Jenny Calendar stood looking at him, the flecks of her fear waning a fraction each time she was confronted with his presence.
“Have something I want to chat about with Rupert. He about?”
Jenny stepped aside, an indulgent smile curving her dark painted lips. “He’s researching. We’ve been up all night with this curse translation. We’ve almost completed it though the end is a little tricky. But it’s made us all fired up for the end, so…no sleep.”
Spike grinned, knowing exactly what the watcher was like when he was on a roll with something. He knew better than to expect the older man all well dressed and polished. Giles was a man unkempt; a man whose clothes showed how much time he’d been slumped in a chair through the dark hours.
“Get anything done then, Rupes?”
Giles shot him an annoyed glare over the top of his glasses, not having yet noticed they’d slipped rather far down the end of his nose.
“Yes, well…well rested then, are you?”
Spike smirked at the surliness, rejoicing in all the faces of the watcher he had been privvy to this time around. With pleasure he picked apart their characterisations, glorying in everything he’d missed the last time he’d swished his way through their lives with little on his mind but how to get rid of the chip so he could eat the hand that fed him.
His countenance turned solemn so suddenly that Giles blinked, momentarily forgetting that he’d been elbow deep in the race to the final key of the curse; after over two months of research and they were finally reaching the point where they could ensure a little bit of peace to their world again. The pressure had been building on all of them. Giles had taken particular notice of the strain on the vampire’s face, wondering again and again why he stayed with them and helped—kept Buffy safe when she patrolled and provided himself as a more mature and caring mentor for Xander Harris than the watcher had ever thought possible. It was a job he’d not thought himself capable of, and that a soulless, formerly evil creature had taken up the task while so obviously in love with his Slayer was the most bizarre event he had ever not read about in any Watcher’s resource at the Council.
“Promised you a while back to come talk to you about what I’d need to do to get my soul back.”
Giles blinked. Here was Spike, a master vampire, powerful in strength and loyalty, bringing him—a lowly human—information that would help permanently restrain his evil impulses. Would render him with no excuse about not knowing the difference between wrong decisions, immoral decisions, and right.
Spike didn’t look like an all-powerful vamp right now. He looked like a nervous man, worried about his life and afraid of making too many wrong moves. He was a quandary that Giles still hadn’t wrapped his head around.
“Yes. So you did. What have you found out?” Giles asked as he indicated Spike take a seat. His interest focused his attention once again and he pushed the slipping glasses back up his nose.
“There’s a demon, in Africa.”
Giles waited patiently for several minutes, wondering about the wrench it seemed to be for Spike to talk about this. He couldn’t see any evidence of struggle, couldn’t see any breaks of Spike’s demon pushing its way to the fore to wreak havoc on those trying to leash its behaviour forever. After witnessing the great differences between Angel and Angelus—only after meeting the unsouled Spike in an atmosphere that rendered fear unnecessary—Giles was more than sure that vampires were as varied in their behaviour and attitudes as humans. It was his opinion, then, that a soul would have very little impact on Spike.
He had asserted that he hadn’t witnessed any degree of challenge on the part of Spike’s demon. But if he was honest, he had noticed minor struggles going on. Ones where Spike was finding his way in the human world and trying desperately not to make mistakes. In Giles’s mind, he’d been, for the most part, successful.
When the silence stretched out too long, he decided a diversion might be needed.
“Tell me about the Spike that existed in your time. Would he have ever thought of getting a soul for the woman he loved?”
The watcher in Giles was fascinated by everything he’d already learned of this other incarnation of Spike. Was chilled at his own blinkered reception of the vampire knowing that he had indeed changed and instead of helping him and learning from him, he’d settled back into his learned behaviour and primed his own Slayer for a life of mistrust and dishonesty. As confusing as it was knowing that the vampire suffered at his hands, at Buffy and the Scoobies hands, he couldn’t help but be very pleased that things had occurred in such a way as to bring the peroxided vamp into their lives in this new way.
Still, his question seemed to have struck a nerve and he felt a small sense of regret that he’d pushed Spike into a painful memory.
“The other Spike was a thoughtless vamp who just wanted to be loved.” His voice was low, filled with hurt and remorse. “Forget it, Rupert. Nothing I did back then could have helped. She kept throwing the fact that I wasn’t like Peaches in my face, but even if I did go and get myself all shiny and soulful, it would never have been enough.”
“Oh surely that’s not—“
“Don’t try and deny it, Rupes. You and I both know that if she’d loved the Poof first she would have been ruined for souls forever. Big Brood-o-matic shot her to pieces before I ever got my act together enough to know what I felt. There was never any chance of her falling for me. Her heart wasn’t in it. Not for Soldierboy, and not for me. But if she needed me to do it, if it would have made her trust me, I’d have done it.”
Giles nodded sadly, not really in the position to refute what the vampire said, but wishing he’d had a less awful experience of it in that time.
“So, now you know of a demon. What must you do?”
“Trials,” Spike seemingly choked out, his eyes not once raised from his fixation on the carpet. “Pretty serious trials to prove yourself worthy. Pass those and I get to wish myself a shiny little soul.”
There was nothing for Giles to do, but nod in understanding.
“So, what do you want to do about it, Spike? Do you plan to go and do this, or wait a bit longer? I think it might be wise if you stayed and helped in case Angelus strikes and Buffy could do with your help. Or even yet, there is this spell. Surely we can investigate it further and adapt it to suit your needs—”
“No bloody way, Watcher. You’re not puttin’ the whammy on me. Not havin’ the same as the Poof. Who knows what that thing did to him? Don’t want to be cursed. Decision’s mine.”
“Of course,” Giles agreed, not wanting to make this any harder and not wanting to push an act into impetuous disaster.
“Don’t tell the Slayer,” the vampire instructed, finally raising his eyes and imploring the other’s cooperation. “I’ll wait for now. Jus’ wanted you to know.” And he was on his feet, the thick heavy tread of his boots making small indents in the carpet even as the sound was swallowed.
He left the room in a morose acceptance, a sense of wondering if it was the right move, if his direction was straight and correct. Giles looked at Jenny’s tired face, and felt his own body slump.
He climbed to his own feet in a state of exhaustion, removing his glasses for a weary eye rub and then nodded as a silent agreement they should catch some sleep, and then made his way slowly to his bed. The puzzle of long lost soul curses and redemptive soulless vampires left for another day.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Hey, Will. Whatcha doin’?”
Perky Buffy was in control today, her hair all fluffy and lips all glossy. It was an excellent portrayal of the Buffy that had been newly crushing on Angel, but it was not the usual Buffy that had been falling wildly in love with Spike. As a result of the abrupt change, Willow frowned.
“I know you’re all with the smiles and the happy, and hey, with ya on the happy, ‘cause happy is so what we need around here—” The redhead stopped and giggled nervously, her own smile slipping along with Buffy’s. “But what’s wrong, Buffy? I know that something’s really got you worried or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to be the Buffy you used to be. You know, before all the soul missage with Angel and the oogyness of all that.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I am so not caring about that, Will’s. So he lost his soul? No biggie. I’ll do what I have to do. If Giles and Ms. Calendar can get his soul back then it’s all of the good, but if not, we’ll deal.”
Willow contemplated Buffy’s speech and saw no artifice behind the words, saw nothing that should be worried over or heard with disbelief. It was just fact, and Willow smiled in relief. Buffy would take care of it. Before he killed them all in their sleep, Buffy would deal with him and everything would be fine.
The girls continued walking toward Revello in silence. It had been a typical day at school—boring lessons topped with even more boring homework. Once upon a time Buffy would have given it a cursory glance before she escaped out her window to patrol, but now with Spike on the scene, he had her finishing and actually reaching the asking questions stage. If she didn’t know better she would think he was trying to turn her into an academic. Which was just funny, because everyone knew that Buffy was as far from being Willow brainy as…well, maybe not Xander but in her own estimation, she had to be close.
Just the thought of that brought a wide genuine smile to her lips. She maybe couldn’t count on that comparison anymore either, not with the way Spike jumped Xander’s ass as soon as his homework made it within the door.
It was weird being with Spike now, knowing that one of her best friends was sleeping in the room right next door. Not that that really mattered when his gorgeous full lips met hers and he made her forget there was a world beyond his closed door. He loved her and he showed her in so many ways. It broke her heart that she felt that he was holding something back. Was lying to her in some way that she just didn’t understand.
She was sure he loved her. How could she doubt it when he so easily lost himself in looking at her, never losing that look of awe that took her breath away every time she saw it?
But she knew he held a secret. Kept something important from her and it hurt. In her innocence she had just fallen into the happy love that being with him meant to her, something so deep and beautiful she hadn’t even stopped to remember he was a vampire and that maybe, just maybe, there was more behind what and who he was than he was telling her.
She purposely blocked from her mind his reaction to being around his sire. Ignored the pull of that link she didn’t have with him. That link that was formed and renewed often with a bite. Deep inside, she wondered if allowing him to bite her would be the end of that link with Drudsilla; if perhaps it would take what they had to a higher level and make them as strong as a couple could be. Her seventeenth birthday was so close now, and that promise burned in her throat whenever she thought about it—at least three times every day. The desire to feel him in that way had been so strong—was still that strong—but she now feared that he was keeping something from her, something too important to their relationship for him to hold the truth away from her. How could she trust in him when he kept holding back? She had taken that step, given him her heart and soul and he seemed unable to do the same. It was confusing and painful, and she really needed it resolved.
“So, what turned that smile into a frown?”
She was jolted from her thoughts by Willow’s concerned question, the redhead watching her with an intelligent spark in her eyes. As confident as she was at being right about Spike, she wasn’t ready to share those thoughts, didn’t want her friends to start distrusting him when she had no clue about what the nature of the secret really was.
“Just thinking ‘bout my birthday. Sort of hoping it’s not like last year’s on the scale of suckage.”
Willow giggled. “I’m sure it will be way better than last year. At least you can give massive hints to your millionaire boyfriend for something pretty and know he’ll probably get it for you.”
Buffy melted inside. “Yeah, he probably would, wouldn’t he? I think I’d suit emeralds. What do you think?”
“Oh no,” Willow objected. “I’D suit emeralds. You can have diamonds.”
The girls discussed different styles and cuts as they continued on their way, looking forward to snacks of ice-cream and a little relaxation, before the Homework Monster descended on them. At the very least her mom loved Spike for his diligence with the homework issue. If only he was the same with the honesty.
Buffy ducked her head and ignored her suspicions in favour of a major pig out. She could work the rest out later.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“I need to go out.”
They had been working silently for hours. Arisen from sleep little rested, a cup of coffee fortified one while the other drowned his exhaustion in tea, and they set back to work.
“Everything else is easy to get, and once we’ve finished the translation we’re good to go. But we need something to hold the soul before it is transferred. I should be able to pick it up at the Magic Shop.”
Giles had already stopped listening. His eyes were trained on the odd letters and symbols, feeling his brain on the edge of a collapse even as he knew in his heart they were close. Very close to making decisions and ensuring the stability of one they had missed but would probably always now fear.
So he missed her as she gathered her bag and coat and didn’t hear as she clicked the door closed behind her. Just scurried around looking for his pencil as another small clue fell into place and he could decipher another small phrase. He smiled and looked up to share his news, finally seeing that Jenny was gone and feeling a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t even noticed. Not able to do anything but wait, he stuck his nose back in the text and hoped for more breakthroughs.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Her heels clacked in a marvelously delicate rhythm on the stone floor as her dancing swept her in circles. Round and round until the dizziness stole the unpleasantness from her head. But it left her feet unsteady and she slipped, feet crossing until she landed in a muddle at the feet of her Daddy. She slumped, moaning and crying as the confusion ebbed and the glorious images of death and blood were squashed to the side—replaced by realities of grief and remorse that had no right to be touching her. She’d been such a good girl, had paid the price of taking initiative and bringing her sire home. Letting him back across to the place where he could be hers again, and not through guilt but because of such a dark need to own and possess his little girl.
But now it was all going wrong. She’d received so many glorious moving pictures in her head when she had delved into Spike’s brain. Only short moments that brought her so many vibrant images. They’d confused and frightened her, left her needy and clinging to the earliest promises of the visions. Daddy. Having her Daddy home to hold her hand and share her meals. Having him to bite and fuck her until she screamed from the security of having him again.
So, to cling to that, she’d discarded many of the others, forgotten about the other things she’d seen in her Spike’s muddled head and focused on the ones she could make happen. All the while accepting that it would only be a short time before the three of them would be back together and finding pleasure and blood in the goriest of places.
But this now, she hadn’t seen. Or else she had blocked it out with the others as something she had been too unwilling to understand. And this moment, as she sobbed at the feet of Angelus she poured out her fears, gave voice to the things that she had thought to never have to live through again.
No longer sick, Drusilla did not end her meltdown in a weakened and pitiful state. Instead she regained her feet, her nails extending as she worked her mind around it, considered avenues to travel to prevent it. Things must happen now or it would be too late. They would lose the end and the victims would rise and overpower them once and for all. She would be torn once again from her sire’s arms and left bereft and careless.
“I see gold around her neck, hair as dark as my Knight. I hear girls all a twitter in verse and swirly skirts all in a circle. They come for you, my love. Wanting to stuff that evil conscience back in you deep, tear you away from the glory that you are and bury you in the light so that Princess can never find you again. Please, we must kill the raven girl. She’s bad, will finish it all and that nasty Slayer will take you both until there is nothing left for me.”
“The curse, Dru? Is the gypsy going to return the soul?”
The vampiress nodded miserably, but felt buoyed by the resounding laugh that bounced from the walls and into her head. She echoed the confusion with her own cackle, feeling enormous with the power of knowing she was to kill.
It had to be done.
“Well, well, well. We have ourselves a little focus. What do you see, Dru? What does the little witch need to make my miserable self behave again?”
“A little glowy ball, your essence all a flutter in its middle. She needs it and will get it from the market seller.” Dru swung her head from side to side, becoming lost in the images that were once again flashing behind her eyes.
“I-I think I might know what she means and where the one you’re worried about might go to get it from.”
Angelus had ignored the human prisoner up to now, having had no idea of what to do with him so far. But now a plan was being formed and the malice in his grin made the other’s body go tense and coldly alert.
“It’s time to go a hunting, dear Ethan. Time to catch us a Magic Shop owner and make him bleed.”
Ethan swallowed hard, cherishing chaos and the possibility of death as long as he didn’t end up with said blood literally on his hands. But he was no longer in a position to argue, his own existence precarious. And so he followed, left with no other control but his grasp on causing chaos.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The jangle of the shop’s bell was a comfort. As much at home as she felt in such a place, the atmosphere in this shop was a little creepy, and Jenny found herself grateful that enough of the outdoor sun shone into the depths of the shop to keep her safe. Even still, she was hesitant as she made her way to the counter and the man behind it.
Just a step from where she needed to be to be polite, she stopped, becoming spooked by the subtle shifts in the shadows. It was a warning, though, and so she made to casually stroll to the shelves bathed wonderfully in sunlight. And from here she derived comfort from the rays; she found security against the things that she knew would be seeking her end. So, from the distance she smiled, hoping that the shopkeeper wouldn’t think her too odd and would serve her with enthusiasm and quickness. This place was giving her the creeps and she wanted to get out as soon as possible.
“I’m looking for an orb of Thessula,” she told him, giving him her needs even as she turned from the darkness of his look and scanned the shelves in front of her.
“Ah yes, the orb. These little lovelies could well put my kids through college.”
The joke he cracked both startled then settled her fears and she took a small step closer to him.
“Ah, you’re British. My friend is British, too.”
“A few of us about I’d imagine. Now, about that Orb. I just got a new crate in. Let me have a look out the back for you.”
She nodded gratefully as he stepped awkwardly back from the counter, almost tripping as he turned and disappeared behind some curtains. She heard his footsteps as they receded to the back and became quiet. The eerie presence of evil had dimmed a fraction with his absence, and Jenny sighed in discomfited relief.
Ethan was breathing heavily, his heart thudding hard in his chest as he stumbled over the extended leg of the dead shopkeeper and hurried out the back of the shop. His clammy hands slipped around the glassy surface of the orb and he nearly dropped it as the darkness crept up behind him.
“Fucking bitch won’t get out of the sunlight. I can’t kill her like this, and she’ll see me too fast and move back into it even if she does take one little princess step into the shadows. You’ll have to do something to that orb thingy so it won’t work when they go to use it.”
“I can create a fissure on the inside and destroy its purity?” He flinched even as the evil face lit up in glee.
“Perfect. That’s the trick. Do that.” And then he stood there, fangs at the ready as he watched and listened to a couple of odd Italiany type words stutter from his captive’s dry and cracked lips. Or maybe it was latin? As if he cared as long as the deed was done.
A small flash of swirling red and yellow lit up the dimness of the room and then went back to stillness. The Brit stood in a relieved satisfaction that the incantation worked and now the orb was corrupted, useless for whatever purpose Rupert and the gypsy girl wanted it for. The simplicity of it made him smile and he forgot his fear as he gloried in the approval from the other.
“Now, get out there and sell some orb.”
He received a none too gentle shove and he was back to seeing the dead person on the floor, wondering if the blood would ever disappear from his memory.
“Ah, here we go,” he said with a smile as he offered up the orb. “I’ll just pack it up for you, shall I?”
Jenny nodded gratefully, a huge sigh expelled now that she was closer to ending this threat to her life by returning a devil his soul. She took the box, delivered an awkward smile and left the shop, rushing into the safety of the sun as if hell were on her heels.
Eager to return home so she could render hell with one less instigator of its will. Shed the light back on a creature that deserved his road to redemption, even though he wasn’t going to take it on the road with Buffy.
A tremulous smile settled on her lips for her walk back to Rupert’s, the box held firmly in her hands.
The end felt so close. As much as she was loving living with Rupert—and her sexy negligees were going to such a good cause when they actually prepared for bed at night—getting back to her own life and being able to date held a merit she was eager to resume.
Yes, the end was a good place to be heading these days. She just prayed she got there in one piece.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm getting all excited about coming to the end of this fic. If you have been reading and NOT commenting, now is your chance. Hate it? I'm sorry but let me know. Love it? TELL ME!! Thank you to all those faithfuls that spread the love with their reviews each chapter. They make my day.