An old vampire enemy has come to town to get his revenge on Spike. Meanwhile, Xander tries to mend fences with Anya. Connor and Dawn get to spend some quality time alone. And Willow develops feelings for a new woman, and wonders whether these feelings are a betrayal of her love for Tara.
New York City. 1977. CBGB's. Inside this rock club the Talking Heads are pounding out the pulsating rhythms and chords of "Psycho Killer." Spike enters through the front door. The doorman says hi, smiles, pats Spike on the back. He walks by the bar. The bartender rushes over to greet Spike. As he walks through the club heads turn to look at him. Humans and vampires rush to greet him and pay their respects.
Spike is friendly but aloof to everyone, like a senator or mafia don greeting their sycophants. He makes his way to Drusila. She's swaying to the music. She likes David Byrne. Says he reminds her of Spike when he was human. Spike grabs her from behind, bites her neck, licks the blood. She turns and smiles. Cuts his cheek. Licks the blood. Then they kiss passionately. If this were anyone other than Spike and Dru someone would have told them to cut it out and get a room. But CBGB's is Spike's room.
Watching from a distance is a gawky young fellow with curly black hair that's just a little bit too mangy. He has a large safety pin on his leather jacket. Around his neck is a thick metal chain with a small padlock hanging from it. He wants look like Sid Vicious, but he doesn't look quite right in full punk regalia. He's a geek trying to look and act cool.
This geek's name is Maxwell. Maxwell idolizes Spike. Wants to be as cool as Spike, as powerful as Spike, as respected and feared as Spike. But he'd settle for being Spike's crony, his faithful little helper. But even this humble aspiration is out of his reach.
The song finishes. The audience applauds. The band begins playing "Memories Can't Wait." Spike mingles some more. He sees Maxwell hitting on this girl. She's tall and willowy, with light brown hair and big blue eyes. She bears a striking resemblance to a certain Sunnydale schoolgirl who had a crush on Spike and liked to hang around his crypt.
Spike likes to humiliate Maxwell, especially in front of the women. He walks over and flicks Maxwell's right ear from behind, like some high school bully. Maxwell flinches in pain.
"Hey there Maxi," Spike says as he begins the humiliation. "Continuing your efforts to get rejected by every single woman on this island, I see."
Spike turns to the young lady in question. "Greetings love," he says to her. Spike takes her right hand and kisses it, then gives her one of his sensitive rebel smile. She blushes and swoons a little.
Spike grabs Maxwell by his nose ring and pulls him aside. "Maxi, you know the rules. You know what I do to vampires who feed in this place."
Spike loved CBGB's so much he turned it into a sanctuary. Vampires could enter, but they couldn't attack humans. That would scare people away and ruin a scene which Spike cherished. He knew he would never get into Heaven. But he didn't mind, because every night he could go to CBGB's.
Maxwell tries to explain. "Spike, please understand. I'm not feeding. I love this girl. I want her to be with me forever. But I'm not going to bite her in here. Honest. I'll do it a couple of blocks away after the show. I promise."
Spike laughed. "You think a girl like that would want to be with you for eternity? Even if you're her sire, she'll dump you for the first tough, good looking vamp she lays her eyes upon. Just give it up. You're pathetic. You're a joke. You're an absurd parody of a vampire."
Spike then walks back to the girl in question. He reaches from behind, caresses some of her hair, and smells it. She turns around, sees Spike, and smiles. Most punks she met were vile and disgusting. But Spike is gorgeous, and possesses an animal magnetism she has never felt before. Spike smiles slyly at her. He can tell she wants him, and this really turns him on. He puts his hand under her chin, tilts her head upwards towards his face, and stares into her eyes, which were full of anticipation and wonder.
When he is sure he has her in his power, Spike speaks. "You, little girl, are an angel. But I'll make you so much more than that. I'll make you feel like a goddess."
She moves her lips to Spike's. At the last minute Spike pulls back and walks away. He loves to see girls want him, yearn for him. He would come back to her in maybe an hour. Give her time to smolder. Give her time to fantasize. Spike wouldn't make his final move until she on the verge up bursting with desire.
Maxwell leaves after Spike's humiliation. He can't understand it. He was always nice to Spike. He looked up to Spike. They loved the same music, followed to same bands. So why did Spike abuse him so?
Return to the present. Dawn is leaving leaving school. She is walking with her friends Janice and Brandon. Brandon's a sweet kid. But he's an awkward teenager, the kind of boy who tries so hard to impress girls he falls flat on his face.
"So, Dawn. You need, um, any help studying for tomorrow's history test," Brandon asked.
Dawn laughed. "I don't need as much help as you do."
"But see, that's the thing Dawn," Brandon replied. "You study with me, you'll know what all the wrong answers will be. Listen to me, and write the exact opposite of what I tell you. You'll ace the thing!"
"That's very kind of you," Dawn sarcastically added.
Brandon didn't catch the sarcasm. "So I swing by with my books around eight, say?"
Oh dear. Dawn had let the poor boy convince himself that she was leading him on. It was so hard to be friendly to boys without giving them the wrong idea. Besides, she planned to have plans. With another boy. "Oh, well, you see, eight o'clock, not good for me. I already have plans. Maybe some other time. Oh, look. There's my house. Buffy gets upset if I come home late. By guys. See you later."
Brandon and Janice walked away. Brandon was a tad dejected. This wasn't the first time Dawn had deflected his come-ons. "Jan, I don't get it. Why can't she understand how I truly feel about her?"
Janice sighed. "Oh, she understands. Dawn understands your feelings all too well. That's why she ran away."
At the end of the street was an old beat-up Thunderbird with very darkly tinted windows and tinfoil covering much of the glass. In the driver's seat was Maxwell. The vampire in the front passenger's seat said "that girl there. The one with the light brown hair. She looks tasty."
"We're not here to feed," Maxwell responded. "We're here to pay an old friend a visit."
Tonight was Spike's first show at the Bronze. His solo performances had attracted so much attention he decided to recruit a four-piece band and go electric. Around 3:30 in the afternoon, he grabbed his Fender Mustang and left the Magic Shop to go to the Bronze for the sound check. On this short walk he ran into Dawn.
The two of them had not talked since Spike returned. Spike decided to reach out. After all, a few nights ago they had fought shoulder-to-shoulder.
"Say Dawny, that was quite the fight the other night. You like trading in mister pointy for some cold steel? Always found myself that a little swordplay now and then livens things up."
Dawn shot a withering glance at Spike. The nerve of him, to pretend it was just like old times. "What is this? You trying to pretend you're my friend once again?"
Spike tried to act surprised, like he didn't deserve this kind of treatment. "I don't understand. Everything's changed. I've changed. What's with the cold shoulder? I think I deserve a chance."
It was apparent to Dawn that Spike was clueless. "So this is what you want? The standard drill? I'm sooo sorry! Please forgive me! I have a soul! I'm a whole new man!' That speech, from you, means nothing to me. Do you know why?"
Spike looked disappointed. He looked at Dawn in silence, and began to look pained, as if she were wounding him. Good, Dawn thought. She continued. "I liked you when you didn't have a soul. That never mattered to me. I liked you, and I trusted you, and I enjoyed being around you.
"I didn't think you were evil, or bad, or dangerous. I didn't think you could ever hurt me, or hurt anyone I loved. But you proved me wrong. You hurt Buffy. And all along you were just using me to get to her. That's why you're talking to me now, isn't it?"
"No Dawn, you've got it all wrong," Spike started to say. But Dawn walked away, and Spike gave up. He continued on to the Bronze. She continued on to the Sunnydale Public Library to check out Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar for a book report for English class.
A little later on, while Dawn was still at the library, reading the work of a woman who could definitely have used a vengeance demon, Anya left her store to try to get her vengeance back on. Connor had come by, asking for Spike. Anya said he should be back shortly. In the meantime Connor could watch the store, protect the merchandise, and guard the money.
Money, or lack thereof, was Anya's problem with being a vengeance demon. She didn't mind hurting people. But now that she had discovered the wonders of a cash economy, she wanted to be justly compensated for her effort. Anya looked back on her past and realized what a chump she had been. The supply of vengeance demons was limited. The demand for their services was very high. According to Anya's interpretation of the law of supply and demand, vengeance demons should be raking it in.
So Anya decided to test her theory. She went to a local bar. She knew people who drank in the daytime were a sad lot, with a lot of misery. This was where you found scorned women.
She looked down the bar for candidates. She saw a woman, mid thirties, with redness under her eyes. This indicated she had been crying. Perfect! Anya moved in, struck up a conversation, played the sympathetic listener.
Classic story. Anya had heard versions of it a hundred times. Married eight years. Two children. Wife quit her job as a paralegal to raise the kids. Husband was a salesman (Anya knew this was always a bad sign). Travelled a lot. Fell in lust with a younger woman he met on the road in Boulder. A purchasing agent for one of his clients. He's leaving his wife for her.
Anya went into her own sales pitch. "Now I can imagine that you feel a little angry. Your husband betrayed you. You changed your whole life to please him. But he abandons you. And your children. You want to make him pay, don't you?"
"What are you, a divorce attorney?," the woman asked.
Anya laughed. "No. But I can give you justice. Swift, sweet, vengeful justice. For a modest price, of course.
"For $100, I'll make your cheating husband impotent.
"For $500, I won't make him impotent but I will give him syphilis, which he will then pass on to his mistress.
"For $1,000, I'll give your husband an erection which won't go down. He'll walk around for days with this thing popping up his pants. Then he'll get gangrene and either die or have his penis amputated.
"For $5,000, I'll give you the Jerry Springer Special. Your husband will get syphilis, which he will give to his mistress, whom he will also marry. Then he will fall madly in love with his own sister, and desperately try to court her. This will humiliate him in front of his own family, who will then shun him. Also, his new wife, the one he has given syphilis to, will divorce him."
Now the woman was a little freaked out. "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"
"I'm the answer to your prayers, the granter of your wishes" Anya said. "My job is to punish unfaithful men. I have the power to make your husband pay for what he did to you. I provide vengeance. For a modest fee, of course."
The woman looked down at her empty white wine glass. She had only had three drinks. She wasn't drunk enough to imagine something this bizarre. "Pardon me, but is this some sort of joke, like Candid Camera."
"Vengeance demons don't joke," Anya said. "I'm a vengeance demon. Say that you wish something bad would happen to your husband, and I will make it so."
No this was just getting ridiculous. "Demons! What kind of crazy weirdo are you?," the woman asked Anya.
"I'm not a crazy person," Anya replied. "Could a crazy person do this?" Anya put on her demon face. "No they couldn't, but a vengeance demon can. No go ahead, make a wish."
The woman screamed, knocked her glass to the floor, and ran out of the bar. Anya had neglected a cardinal rule of business: know your customer. The vengeance demon racket worked because the demon did not expose her true identity until after the customer had made a wish. The vengeance demon's customer does not know they are purchasing anything. They're making idle wishes they don't expect to come true.
For payment there must be a contract or agreement beforehand. For an agreement to take place the customer must know what she is buying. And she must know what is selling it to her. Thus they must believe vengeance demons exist. For most people, this requires serious revision of reality.
After the woman ran away screaming Anya began to understand this. But she did not understand a second point. The customer must also want what they are purchasing. If you tell a woman you are literally going to do horrible things to the man who wronged them, they might have second thoughts. They might hate this man. But they would hesitate to cause another human being grievous bodily harm.
This means the women vengeance demon assist don't really want to hurt the men that wronged them. It means vengeance demons grant wishes people don't really want to come true. In other words, it's a con. The demon tricks a person into causing something to happen which they did not want to happen. But Anya was not ready for this sweeping conclusion.
A few minutes after Anya left, Spike came back to the Magic Shop. Connor smiled when he saw him, and ran to meet him. Spike was glad to see one of the few people he knew who actually wanted him around. "You didn't come all the way out here just to see me, did you Steven?," Spike modestly asked.
Connor explained. "After the fight last night, I didn't get chance to thank you for your help. Buffy and the rest of us couldn't have done it without you. Also, thanks for the advice about swords. You were right. With that short, heavy sword I could get inside on those vampires and slice them to pieces. I like to slice."
"I have to say you are quite the killer, young sport," Spike replied. "I'm just glad your dad was a good guy. Otherwise you could have been quite the monster, instead of this town's answer to Sir Lancelot."
The Lancelot line was fortuitous. It distracted Connor from the monster comment, which left by itself would have deeply angered and unnerved Connor. But Holtz had told him a bit about Camelot, and he was honored to be compared to a great mythical warrior. But the metaphor confused him.
"So who's King Arthur?," Connor asked Spike.
"I guess King Arthur would be, well, Buffy. Of course, Xander is no Knight of the Round Table. So the parallel doesn't hold. Except for you, of course. You come out of nowhere, slay the bad guys, fight like you're out of a bloody comic book. And to think, you're just a kid. You're just getting started."
Connor was genuinely touched by this. "Guess I learned from the best. First my father. Now you."
"Bollocks. Stop that," Spike responded to this excessive praise. "I'm just a weak old bloke who's barely powerful enough to keep himself alive."
"It's not your power I want to learn from. It's your mind," Connor explained. "When I was little, my father taught me that the warrior with a strong mind always beats the mindless beast with a stronger body. If I can learn all that you know, nothing can stop me."
His brains. Connor's brawn. Spike realized he could make a monster out of Connor yet. He told Connor "so I guess this was your plan all along, Steven. You came here to train. Is that it?"
"I've seen that room off to the side, with all the weapons. Looks like someone set it up to practice fighting."
Spike knew that someone was Giles. Now Connor wanted Spike to be his Watcher. Spike was filled with a mixture of honor and dread. He was honored Connor thought so much of him. But he dreaded turning into Giles. Yet, as always, he couldn't say no to Connor. The kid was growing on him, filling Spike with paternal emotions he had never felt before.
So they trained. Just basic techniques. Spike was new to the whole Watcher thing. Told Connor how balance was everything. Used almost the same words Angel used when he tried to train Connor. But Connor knew that with Angel this was all an act. But to him Spike was the real deal — a replacement for Holtz. Before he was killed Holtz told Connor he had taught him all he could. He said Connor now needed a new mentor. He had found that mentor in Spike.
Back at the Summers house Willow came home and chatted with Buffy. Dawn was still at the library. Willow mentioned Spike's performance that night at the Bronze. Buffy really wasn't interested. And she still thought Willow had a crush on Spike.
Willow explained why Spike's presence shouldn't prevent Buffy from going to the Bronze. "There's gonna be hundreds of people there. A cornucopia of sanguinary Scooby Snacks for the vampires of this town. I think you should be there. You know, as our protector."
Buffy accepted Willow's argument. "Okay I'll go. But only in the interests of public safety. Just cause Spike wants to play rock star is no reason for me to endanger hundreds of innocent people whose only crime is wanting to see that lout on stage." So Buffy could go there while Dawn and Connor handled patrolling.
Xander came home from work to find Connor gone. He figured he might be with Spike at the Magic Shop. Xander noticed that Connor held Spike in high esteem.
Xander entered, saw Spike, and asked him "you seen Steven around here?"
"Matter of fact I did," Spike responded. "You just missed him. You're not going to believe this, but he came here to train — with me!"
"What is this, part of your full Giles makeover?," Xander asked.
"I have no interest in becoming Professor Tweed," Spike answered. "Steven just comes in here, demands I teach him everything I know. Like I was gonna say no and let the kid down. What can I say? Don't know why, but he trusts me."
Xander leaped on this answer. "Oh, that's just perfect. I'm sure Steven would love to learn all that you know. How to kill people. How you drink their blood. In case you haven't noticed, he doesn't exactly like vampires."
"Is that a threat?," Spike shot back. "Steven sleeps on your furniture, eats your food, so all of a sudden you act like you're his father. What the bloody hell! Where do you get off telling Steven who he can and can't spend time with?
"What can I say?," Xander replied. "The kid's new in town. He needs someone to look out for him."
"You're right Xander. Steven knows he needs someone to watch his back. And he chose me. Now if you will excuse me, daddy dearest, I have to mosey on over to Bronze and get ready for my close-up."
Xander would have liked nothing better than to tell Connor what Spike really was. But he had no authority over Connor. Connor was a good friend who lived with Xander. Xander helped him out, gave him advice. But Connor could come and go as he pleased. When it came to Connor Xander had no interest playing the father, or even the older brother.
Before Spike left Xander remembered something he had been meaning to ask him about his transformation.
"So, Spike, that chip still doing the Clockwork Orange to your noggin?"
"Lemme check," Spike responded. Then he punched Xander in the stomach. "Nope. The headaches are gone."
Xander struggled for breath. "Ow, Ow, okay nice to know. Now if only I could pull my spleen out of my lungs."
Spike flashed a mischievous smile. "Wait a sec. Let me make sure." He punched Xander in the nose. "Yep, chip seems to have stopped doing that horrorshow to my mind."
Xander grimaced and put a hand to his face. "Well, it's nice to know you're back to your old self. You sure they gave you a soul?"
Spike went out the door. Xander wiped under his nose. No blood. He dashed outside and yelled down the sidewalk "by the way Spike, you punch like a girl! You know, the weak, non-slayer sort of girl!"
Then he went back inside. Xander noticed Anya. They were alone, together. It would be rude of him to say nothing, especially after fighting vampires side-by-side with her twice in the last month. So Xander reached out. "So Anya, you were great the other night, against the Cohiba. We're getting good. You, me, Willow make quite the slayer team."
Anya was still angry at Xander for going awol at the altar, and she was mad that her attempt to get paid for vengeance had failed. "Oh I'm sure you'd really like that. The three of us. That's all you men think about. Having two women at once."
Xander gasped in astonishment. "Oh, now that's fair! I mention slaying and you twist it into sexual perversions. What sort of gigantoid leap of insanity led you to that conclusion? I paid you a compliment! I am trying to be friendly here."
"Dear me. I'm so so sorry. I forget you were friendly Xander. Look up in the clouds, it's friendly Xander, saving the day with his magical splendiferous cheerfulness.' He never hurts anyone. He lives to make people happy."
Xander saw where she was going. "Look. Anya, I understand that nothing I can ever say or do will make up for the pain I have put you through, will atone for my abandoning you, for betraying the trust you had in me. But this guerrilla war of words you're waging doesn't help either of us. Seeing my best friend nearly destroy the world made me question these petty squabbles. It made me realize what a waste it was to wallow in bitterness."
Anya saw it clearly now. "Well I apologize. I forgot I was talking to Alexander the Great, the hero of humanity, the mortal man who saved the planet with luuuv. I give in. Your powers are too much. Quick, hold me in your arms so I can cry on your shoulder and make everything all better!
"You held my future out before me. And then you ripped it away. Without warning. Without explanation. I planned my life around you. And you tell me sorry honey, I don't want to do this right now. Maybe later. No hard feelings.' You took a torch to my dreams and calmly walked away as they went up in flames.
"So I'm sorry if I can't forget or forgive you. But don't give me that sensitive-guy-who-cares-for-me drivel, like I should feel guilty for being upset with you. Just because you saved the world does not mean I will forgive you for what you did to me."
It was clear to Xander this wound would take more time to heal. He remembered that Connor left the Magic Shop. He must be home by now, waiting for Xander.
He drove home and found Connor on the couch watching a movie. He had moved beyond action films, and was now devouring Xander's collection of classic teen comedies. Connor wanted to learn about what people his age did in this strange and unfamiliar world.
He had on "Fast Times At Ridgemont High." Xander entered during the legendary scene when Phoebe Cates steps out of the pool to the pulsing of The Cars' "Moving In Stereo." Xander stops. Looks. Savors. Almost makes him feel young again.
"So Steven, I see you're studying astronomy. The movements of heavenly bodies and all."
Connor thought a second. Got the joke. Then asked Xander a question. "So this movie, is that what it's really like? Is that what high school was like for you?"
"Well, you see, Ridgemont didn't have vampires. They worked at the mall. We blew apart demons with rocket launchers at the mall. But deep down, we were like the characters in the movie. Obsessed with the opposite sex, yet also completely ignorant of the opposite sex." Xander thought for a second, then added "but none of my friends had a pool."
Then Xander thought of "Moving In Stereo." And he thought of the girl in the bathing suit, getting out of the bathing suit. And then he asked himself, did Cordelia have a pool? She was rich enough. Come to think of it, he never went to her house, and she never went to his.
And then the two thoughts merged. It was Cordelia in the bathing suit stepping out of the pool, moving in stereo. Xander hadn't thought of her for many months. And he hadn't thought of her in this way for several years. He had forgotten how that body used to make him feel.
Connor noticed Xander was spaced out. "Uh, Xander. You there? Everything all right? Xander? Hello Xander?"
Connor shook Xander's right arm. This jolted Xander out of his poolside fantasy world. "Oh, Uh, sorry Steven. Nostalgia moment. Back to the present, the here and the now, the — hey look and the time — it's time for dinner."
Xander heated up some lasagna and the two of them ate. Connor was scarfing down some fudge brownies for dessert when Buffy called. Xander answered. Buffy explained she was going to the Bronze to protect the club's patrons. Xander wasn't too eager to see Spike perform, but if Willow and Buffy were attending, he might as well go along with his friends. Buffy then told Xander to tell Connor he and Dawn were to handle Buffy's patrol.
Xander agreed and hung up. "Who was that?," Connor asked.
"Just Buffy. She's going to protect the Bronze tonight, make sure the vampires don't make a smorgasbord out of people foolish enough to pay to be around Spike. So you and Dawn are going to patrol alone tonight."
Connor felt that funny feeling again, the one he first experienced when he first saw Dawn. Stomach tightening. Pupils dilating. Mouth drying. Heart racing. The mind dreaming while the body was still awake.
Connor sat frozen, mouth agape, eyes staring into the distance. He would have looked so romantic if he didn't look so goofy, with his mouth covered in fudge and meat sauce. Xander walked over. "Steven? You okay? Ground control to Major Steve. Anyone home?"
Men form rock bands for two reasons: to impress girls, and to get revenge on everyone who ever picked on them, ever beat them up. Spike perhaps was the first man to fuse these two motivations. He wanted to impress the girl who picked on him and beat him up. Anyone could sleep with one woman to make their ex-girlfriend jealous. Big deal. Having your ex-girlfriend see one hundred women gazing at you, wanting to sleep with you. Now that was special.
Spike clumsily tuned his Fender Mustang. He saw some metalhead abuse this magnificent instrument in a club on the Sunset Strip in 1981. What cruelty, Spike thought. After the band left the stage, Spike killed the guitarist and stole his axe, as well as his amplifier. To Spike this was a humanitarian gesture.
He practiced and played, but only for Drusila. He feared if other vampires saw him playing they would think he was soft. When he was injured and wheelchair-bound he was too depressed to play, especially after Angel muscled in on his woman. Spike had not touched the instrument for five years when he came back to Sunnydale as a human. But his skills quickly returned.
Spike came out into the footlights. Heard lots of loud cheers. Saw the place was pretty crowded. Remembered how the Ramones played their first gig in front of three people. And here he was in front of over one hundred. He then pounded out the chords to Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers' proto-punk rave-up "Someone I Care About:"
"Well I don't want just a girl to fool around with.
Well I don't want just a girl to bone.
What I want is a girl that I care about.
Or else I want nothing at all."
That went well. As did the Sex Pistols' "Holiday In The Sun" and the Replacements' speed punk version of Big Star's "I'm In Love With A Girl." After that Spike took a swig from his beer bottle and gazed out over the crowd looking for Buffy. He could not see her. Some jerk up front yelled for Spike to play "White Wedding." Spike spat on his head.
Spike then began Bruce Springsteen's "Darkness On The Edge Of Town," where a scoundrel sings about his illicit affair with a good woman who is trying to lead a respectable life. The scoundrel long ago decided to "pay the price for wanting the things that can only be found in the darkness on the edge of town." Buffy entered the club with Willow and Xander as Spike began singing the second verse:
"Everybody's got a secret life,
something that they just can't face.
Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it.
They carry it with them every step that they take.
Till some day they just cut it loose.
Cut it loose or let it drag em down."
Spike followed this with David Bowie's "Queen Bitch," which he would claim was not about Buffy, unlike most of the songs he was playing. Buffy hadn't even looked at the stage. She walked up to the balcony, where the vamps liked to ply their trade. She saw two vampires moving in on two girls who looked no older than 14 or 15. Nothing she hadn't seen a million times before.
Buffy spun both vamps around. "What's the matter, fellas? Can't handle a real woman?" She bashed their heads together, and they fell to the ground. Buffy staked the vampire to her right before it could get up. The vampire to her left got up and swung a wild right hook at Buffy's head. She ducked, got behind this vamp, and staked it.
The two girls stood stunned. Buffy looked at them. Thought of how she worried about Dawn. Thought about how these girls' parents must worry about them. "See what happens when you go out on a school night," she said to them. They ran downstairs and out of the club. One near-death experience involving men who turned to dust was enough for them that evening.
As the girls ran out they were spotted by Maxwell. He grabbed one. One of his minions grabbed the other. Both drank lustily. This time, Spike was not around to ruin Maxwell's fun.
Maxwell was once David Silver of Mineola. His father was a prosperous dentist who could afford to send Maxwell to Syracuse University. One night, while home for Winter Break in 1971, Maxwell took the Long Island Railroad into Manhattan to catch the Velvet Underground. They were playing a series of farewell concerts at a club called Max's Kansas City.
Maxwell yearned for something more exciting than the comfortable, prosperous suburban world he grew up in. That's why he loved Lou Reed. Lou grew up five miles north of David. Like David, Lou went to Syracuse. Like David, he was miserable there. David wanted to follow Lou's footsteps into the dark underbelly of urban life, where a creative person's soul could thrive.
David was bitten at that Velvet Underground show and became a vampire. He renamed himself Maxwell, after the club where his vampire life began. David found most vampires boring. But Spike was different. He was smart. He was so cool. He had great taste in music. He had David's taste in music.
But this bond did not bring them together. Maxwell learned Spike was a big Lou Reed fan. Maxwell told Spike about seeing the Velvet Underground. Spike could care less about anything that came out of Maxwell's mouth. He abused him, picked on him, and got off on it. Maxwell never understood this. He was always nice to Spike. He admired Spike. Why would Spike treat him so cruelly?
Speaking of men who idolized Lou Reed, Bowie's "Queen Bitch" had been inspired by Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground. Spike followed this up with "The Passenger," an Iggy Pop song produced by David Bowie. During Spike's glory days in New York in the seventies, he thought back on his early years with Angelus. He liked to imagine that he was Bowie to Angel's Lou Reed. As he played the minimalist, infectious riff over and over, it occurred to him that maybe Connor was Iggy Pop to his Bowie. Of course, before he met Bowie, Iggy was a protege of Lou Reed. This didn't occur to Spike.
Spike's band stretched out this song. Zooey, his guitarist, ripped into an extended soloing while Spike held down the main riff. Spike picked his musicians much the way Prince selected the members of his first backup band, the Revolution. He looked for attractive and distinctive men and women who also played real well and had really good taste in music. Spike had seen seem enough TRL to know how much contempt most young people had for quality music. So if they weren't excited by great music, at least they would be excited by the eye candy playing that great music.
There was Sterling on drums, Aidan on bass, Elise on keyboards, and Zooey on guitar. Zooey was petite and athletic, with a fiery attractiveness. She wore a black leather haltertop and had spikey purple hair. Oh and, by the way, she could play really well.
Xander and Willow had met up with Anya. Anya had been there since the show's start. Anya was having trouble understanding why all these women were so excited by Spike. "It's absolutely ludicrous. I mean, he's a stockboy. Making less than minimum wage. Who doesn't even have his own apartment. And he's getting paid, like, $50 at most for this show. And women who drove here in BMW's are losing their minds over him.
"But then I thought about it some more, and remembered, hey, I've slept with this thing all these women are dying to get their hands on. I have had what they want. And it occurred to me. Sometimes sex is about love. But sometimes it's about acquiring property. I feel like I have a more expensive car or a bigger house than they do. It's delightful. It's delicious. It's wonderful!"
"I'm glad you've experienced the joys of sexual conquest," Xander sarcastically reacted to Anya's speech. "You've grown so much. Now you look at a human being not as a person, but as a thing. Of course, as humans go, Spike's closer to thing-ness than just about anybody. Speaking for myself, it's nice to know that you weren't dating me; you were leasing me."
This was rich, Anya thought. Xander talking about personal growth. "I've learned to learn from experience. I know that love doesn't bring eternal happiness and bliss. It makes you vulnerable. Love someone, and they can hurt you in the worst way. You taught me that. You taught me that if you treat men like people, they can make you suffer."
Now this was vengeance, Xander thought. Anya didn't stab Xander with insults. She showed Xander the horrible wounds he inflicted upon her. She made Xander realize that he could hurt people, that he could ruin a life. Anya did not let Xander feel her pain. She let him feel something far worse. She let Xander know that he could not possibly comprehend her pain. And if he could not do that, he could not atone for inflicting that pain.
Willow had drifted away from this ex-lover's spat. She looked up to the stage, and saw Zooey. It was the first time she had felt physically attracted to a person since Tara died. In fact, it was the first time she had felt physically attracted to a person other than Tara in three years. It was your classic infatuation: the hundreds of people in the room disappear. Willow can only see Zooey.
Then the song ended. The audience applauded. Willow was dragged back into harsh reality. And she thought of Tara. Thought how she was betraying Tara by looking with desire at another person. Willow ran into the bathroom. She stared at the mirror. Ever since Xander pulled her back from the precipice, Willow had believed she could never love another, never even want another. Why now was she tempted to forsake her true love?
Buffy stayed on the balcony, looking down to spot trouble. Near the end of Spike's first set she inadvertently wandered near the spot light. As it panned across the stage it illuminated Buffy for an instant. Spike saw her. He was beginning John Lennon's "Jealous Guy." The song could come across as a sappy ballad. But Spike knew Lou Reed had covered the song. If it was cool enough for Lou, it was cool enough for Spike. It was also entirely appropriate. Man apologizes to the woman he loves for acting like a monster:
"I was trying to catch your eyes.
Thought that you was trying to hide.
I was swallowing my pain.
I was swallowing my pain.
I didn't mean to hurt you.
I'm sorry that I made you cry.
I didn't want to hurt you.
I'm just a jealous guy."
After this tender song, Spike ended the set with a fiery rendition of the Velvet Underground warhorse "Sweet Jane." Spike went backstage, grabbed another beer. He looked out at the floor, and saw Buffy moving towards the stage. His heart raced. His gambit had paid off. He burst out to greet her.
Buffy spoke. "That Lennon number. It was cute. You know what? I have a request. It's one of his later works."
"Oh really!," Spike exclaimed joyfully. "Which one?"
"Starting Over'," Buffy cooly answered. "Start over Spike. Take one of your groupies. Take two. Take ten for all I care. But please, move on. Forget about me. It's for your own good."
Buffy walked away. Spike was disappointed, but not despondent. He thought of how many times in the past she said the two of them would never get together. "The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious." That was his favorite. He wished he had it on tape, so that every time Buffy said it was over he could play it and prove to her that when it came to the two of them, never say never. The groupies noticed him and mobbed him. He beat back their grabbing hands, and disappeared backstage.
The groupie thing mystified Xander. I mean, this was Spike! Spike was a loser as a vampire, and now was a loser with no power. Who died and made Spike Elvis? So far as Xander knew no love spells had been cast. So the attraction wasn't supernatural.
And these women. They were quite attractive. Xander would have been happy to catch the eye of any of them. Not that he would do anything with them. He still hoped against hope he could repair the breach with Anya. But the attention would be nice.
Xander sauntered over to these women, to check out if they would check him out. About a dozen of them were in a circle talking. He moved close enough to hear their chatter.
There was much murmuring. Then one of them spoke up. "He's so hot, but he rejected me and a couple of my friends when we tried to hit on him. It's like we didn't even exist as far as he's concerned. He fled us like we had some disease."
Another woman spoke up. "I heard he's gay. I mean, look at the hair and the clothes. It's such a shame, you meet a hot rock star, who lives in your town, and he's not even straight."
Spike, gay? Xander thought about this. He heh heh. To Xander this was too perfect. What's next, a rumor that Spike's dating Ricky Martin? He heh heh. How Xander enjoyed a laugh at the expense of Spike's masculinity.
So here they were. Together. Alone. In the dark. Staking vampires. In Sunnydale, this constituted a hot first date. Dawn and Connor waited around a fresh grave. The vampire emerged. Its sire approached from behind. He swung at Connor, who could not see this vampire but heard its footsteps. He ducked and turned. He grabbed the vampire by its jacket, and head-butted it in the nose.
Connor put his hands under the vampire's armpits, and tossed it about 20 feet in the air. He pulled out his stake, twirled it a couple of times, then held it out with the point facing upwards to catch the vampire on its way down.
Dawn meanwhile easily handled the vampire who had risen. She killed it in time to catch Connor's flying vampire circus. The things this boy could do.
Dawn still knew precious little about this strange boy who doted on her in such an adorable fashion. As they walked, she tried to gently pick his brain for details while cleverly dropping hints about future dates.
"Hey Steven, you ever been to a movie."
Connor of course had been to a movie. In this instance, he told Dawn the truth. Kind of. "Yes I have. I saw it with my father in a car. It was nice. I liked the big pictures and the explosions. But then this helicopter came down from the sky and these men fell out of it and they attacked me. I didn't like that part of the movie."
How odd, Dawn thought. This boy's life was nearly as weird and hers. But she knew how to spin this response. "Oh, so you haven't seen movies indoors. That's how we see them around here. That way, the men in the helicopters can't get you. (Men in helicopters? Dawn didn't even want to ask.) It could just be the two of us. Sitting side-by-side. In the dark. No one to disturb us."
Dawn playfully walked her left hand up Connor's right arm, then used that hand to rub his shoulder. Connor turned and faced Dawn. Her hand. On his body. Their was only so much a nervous lovesick boy could take. Dawn looked into Connor's eyes. She fear and trembling. And she noticed that he appeared to be hyperventilating.
No need to hurt the boy, she thought. She took her hand off his shoulder. Connor's pulse and respiration returned to normal levels. But he was disappointed, and worried he was scaring Dawn away. "I'm sorry," he began. "It's just being out here, in the graveyard, around all these vampires. It makes me a little nervous."
Now this was a lame excuse! Dawn had seen what Connor could do to a vampire. The last thing they did was make him nervous. She chalked it up to inexperience. Maybe Connor hadn't been around girls much.
So Dawn asked another of her suggestively probing questions. "No, don't be sorry Steven. You never have to apologize to me. By the way, you ever meet any girls back in Utah? You ever, oh, I don't know, have any girlfriends? You ever kiss a girl?"
Once again, Connor felt free to answer truthfully. Sort of. "When I first came to California, I met this girl. She was nice. She took care of me. She kissed me. It was nice. But then she left the room and put some medicine in her arm and died."
Connor wasn't as dumb as he looked. He realized what game Dawn was playing, and he wanted to play along. "Dawn, how about you? You ever kiss a boy?"
And Dawn thought her adolescence was traumatic! After hearing another of Connor's amazing stories, she was emboldened to answer truthfully. Sort of. "I did kiss this one boy. It was nice. But then he turned into a vampire. And I staked him."
Connor was struck by the parallel. For both of them, their first kiss resulted in death. "I guess it can be very hard to find the right person," Connor concluded. The two of them moved their heads closer together. Their lips were about an inch from touching when they were interrupted by — wouldn't ya know it — vampires.
A male and female vampire couple had watched this two kids court one another. How adorable. How delicious. The male vampire grabbed Dawn by the neck. The female vampire did the same to Connor.
As the female vampire pulled Connor backward, he elbowed her in the stomach. She lost hold of his neck. Connor kicked her in the head, knocking her to the ground.
The male vampire was a bit smarter. He held one of Dawn's arms behind her back to prevent her from performing Connor's escape move. Connor went after the male vampire accosting his beloved. He kicked for his face. But the vampire used Dawn as a shield, and thrust her in the path of Connor's foot.
He hit her with great force in the nose. It began to bleed badly. Connor saw what he had done and was sickened. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Dawn, I am so so sorry." While overcome with remorse, the female vampire approached Connor from behind and knocked him to his knees with a blow to the back.
Though badly injured, Dawn kept her head. As the male vampire went to bite her, she stepped on his toes. He yelped in pain and let go of her. Dawn then elbowed the vampire in the nose, then punched him in the nose. "Tell me how you like it," she taunted.
While on the ground, Connor turned onto his back, put his hands to the ground, and thrust his legs upward, hitting the female vampire in the chin. He got to his feet, but she landed two punches to his mouth. He was through exchanging blows. His last kill had given him an idea.
Connor closed with the female vampire and grabbed her. He lifted her up and arched his back to through her in the air behind him. She floated into the branches of a tree about 20 feet from where Connor was standing.
Dawn was fighting under that tree. She was very mad at this vampire for using her as a shield. She was pummelling him with kicks. And then his lover flew into the branches about ten feet above his head. One of the branches pierced her heart, and her dust fell onto her lover's head. He felt the dust, turned his head skyward, and realized what had happened. Dawn took advantage of this distraction and staked the male vampire.
Connor raced over and hugged Dawn. He was so upset he was on the verge of tears. "It's okay. It's not your fault. I'll be fine," Dawn assured him. But her head was hurting. "I think my nose may be broken. But I'll be fine. I'll just head home, put some ice on it."
Dawn then headed home. Connor followed her. But the moment was gone. Tonight would not be the time for their first kiss. After Dawn went inside, Connor headed home. He felt terrible. To have come so close, and then to have ruined the moment by striking his beloved. Anxiety and anticipation tormented him. He felt like his intense yearnings would dissolve his insides.
Willow hung out with Xander for most of the second set. They even danced to Spike's snarling cover of Graham Parker's "Local Girls." To Xander it felt sort of surreal to dance to Spike's music, but he found that so long as he did not look at the stage he could pretend it was someone else.
But though together, Xander's and Willow's minds were apart. Xander fretted about Anya. He was alternately mad at her for accusing him of ruining her life and mad at himself for hurting her. Meanwhile, Willow tried to figure out whether she could move forward without dishonoring her past.
Near the end of the second set, Xander went to the restroom, and Willow retreated to the back, near the stairs to the balcony. She tried to talk herself into an acceptable resolution of her conflicted feelings.
"I love Tara. I'll always love Tara. My life will always be empty without her. No wait. That's not good. Would Tara want my life to be empty? No. But would she want me to leap onto the next cute musician who crossed my path? No.
"Okay. Okay now. Being alone and feeling all miserable is bad. Going flesh shopping at the Bronze like it's the Sunnydale Meat Market, that's also bad. I don't want to do that. But I don't have to! I'm friends with Spike. She's in Spike's band. After the show, I go say hi to Spike, introduce myself to her. Just a nice, pleasant, friendly greeting. No harm there. No harm at all."
It had been an auspicious debut for Spike's band. They drew an unusually large crowd to the Bronze for a weekday, and nearly everyone stayed until the end of their second set. A lot of people waited for an encore. Forget it, leave them wanting more, Spike thought. Besides, the band had been together for about ten days, and didn't know any more songs.
It was a quiet night for Buffy. Those two vamps in the balcony were the only ones she saw all night. Pity. A bit more fighting would have helped distract her from the guy in the spotlight: Spike. Things got so boring, she occasionally watched him. Just out of morbid curiosity. Maybe he'd forget the words or trip over his monitor.
Buffy found Xander, asked him where Willow was. Xander said he saw her go backstage after the show ended. "Oh no, she's not going after Spike, is she?," Buffy asked.
"Willow? Spike? What are you talking about?," a clueless Xander asked.
"What, you haven't noticed?," Buffy replied. "She's been hanging out with him. Going on study dates with him. Telling me how sweet and sensitive he is. Oh! And last week, she told me she saw him singing at that coffee shop, and that she found him real sexy."
"Willow said what?!!," Xander growled. His heart filled with rage. First Buffy, then Anya, now Willow. Like Spike was methodically going after every woman Xander ever cared about. Xander raced backstage. He found Willow. But he didn't find Spike.
He went back and reported to Buffy. "Spike's gone. Willow's back there. But she's talking to that girl guitar player. Well you know how Willow is. She's always been drawn to, uh, er, . . . lead guitarists."
Buffy's anxiety about Willow's blossoming friendship with Spike disappeared. "This may sound odd, but I can't tell you how relieved I am to know that Willow's still a lesbian!"
"Yeah sure. Relieved. That's the word," Xander drolly deadpanned. He was filled with a small measure of relief and a large dollop of disappointment. Lately he had been indulging in the thought that he and Willow were meant for each other. Now Xander feared he was only deluding himself.
Willow went backstage. Spike was packing up his gear. She was about to say hi, when she saw Zooey about 15 feet away. She was by herself, changing some of the pickups on her guitar. Beside her was a small stereo, playing Ani DiFranco:
"Some people ask me, are you in or are you out?
And I think, hmm, what is this about?
I just want more than one membership in more than one club.
Cause I owe my life to the people that I love."
Willow decided to introduce herself. "You played great tonight. Oh, hi there! I'm, uh, Willow, one of Spike's friends."
Zooey looked up. She thought for a moment. "Yeah, Willow. The college girl. He mentioned you. Said you were real smart. Forgot to mention you were also real cute. By the way I'm Zooey. Nice to finally put a face to the name. Especially since it's your face."
Well that was an auspicious start, Willow thought. Too auspicious. So auspicious it was actually inauspicious. Friendship, not meat market, Willow reminded herself as she blushed. "Oh, wow, thanks. I guess I could return that compliment."
"I guess you just did," Zooey coyly responded. "Could you wait a second? I just have to screw in this new pickup. When I play, the sweat goes from my skin onto the guitar and corrodes and rusts these little things."
Sweat? Skin? This wasn't friendly chat. This was flirting. And flirting did not lead to friendship. It led to something Willow did not want to believe she was looking for right about now. Time to throw water on the fire while it could still be extinguished.
"Okay Zooey, I should tell you something now. You're a really good guitarist, which is something I've been known to go for. And you're cute, in a gorgeous riot grrrl sort of way, which theoretically I could go for. But right now, that's not what I'm going for."
Zooey laughed. "Sorry if I was too friendly. I didn't mean to make you think I was looking at you like you were some groupie, another notch on my guitar. My guitar doesn't even have notches. I'm not the sort of musician who's into notching."
Now Willow wanted to make sure Zooey didn't think Willow was blowing her off. "But just because we don't want to, uh, notch, doesn't mean we can't see each other."
"We can definitely see each other," Zooey concurred. "And if we're lucky, we can even hear each other."
Willow liked Zooey's glib sense of humor. Reminded her of someone from her past. "Speaking of seeing each other, I haven't seen you around here before. You just move to Sunnydale?"
"Actually I live out east in Escondido. To be honest, before I joined Spike's band, I never came to this town after dark. Heard too many bad things."
"We have a saying in Sunnydale," Willow began. "Live each day like it's your last, because one of these days it will be."
After uttering this Willow worried how it had sounded. She didn't want to scare Zooey, or cause Zooey to think she was a little loopy. But Zooey took it philosophically. "Did you come up with that? It's so true. Very existentialist. Hey, that reminds me. When the sun's up I work in a bookstore in Vista called Avalon. You should come by sometime. So I can find out if you're as smart as you are pretty."
This was the first time Willow ever heard someone ask if she was just a pretty face. Most people didn't even find the face pretty. This girl knew flattery. Willow tried to respond in an appropriately humble and self-deprecating manner.
"The conventional wisdom appears to be that yes, I am smart, but that the boys don't find me very pretty. Most of the girls don't either."
"One thing I've learned, Willow, is that wisdom is almost always unconventional. Hope I see you round sometime."
Willow left and went back to Xander. He saw the spring in her step. "Wow Willow, you move fast. Land speed record fast."
"Get you mind out of the gutter, mister Harris. What kind of a girl do you take me for? I was just making a friend. She's cool. Her name's Zooey. But don't be jealous. She'll never take your place." Willow hugged Xander around his waist and said "you'll always be my bestest buddy."
Spike put on his leather jacket, grabbed his guitar, and walked out the rear exit. Maxwell was waiting for him. In his deep, resonant, bass voice, a voice which sounded nothing like his squeaky speaking voice, Maxwell serenaded Spike:
"Everything is quiet.
Everyone's gone to sleep.
I'm wide awake.
But these memories,
these memories can't wait.
These memories can't wait."
Spike did not recognize Maxwell. But he saw four vampires about to ambush him. One of Maxwell's minions attacked. Spike knocked it to the ground with a swing of his Fender. Another attacked. Spike ran his guitar's neck through this vampire's heart, killing it. The third minion attacked. Spike swung and put his whammy bar through the vamp's left eye.
Then Spike came to his senses. This was a vintage instrument worth hundreds of dollars. The Fender Mustang was Spike's baby. He wasn't going to destroy it for the sake of killing a few worthless vampires. Spike carefully placed the instrument on the ground near the building's wall.
One of the minions rushed Spike as he did this. After placing down his guitar, Spike turned and elbowed the vampire. He then ran towards the dumpster to find a new, less valuable, weapon. There was a 2X4 lying against the dumpster. Spike broke it in two against his knee. He put the pointy end of one piece in one vampire, and the pointy end of the other piece in the other vampire.
Now it was just Spike and Maxwell. Just how Maxwell wanted it. Maxwell threw Spike against the side of the building. Spike hit the brick wall at a rather painful velocity. Maxwell punch Spike repeatedly in the face and stomach. He never had enjoyed himself quite so much.
He grabbed Spike by his jacket. "Remember me!," Maxwell asked. Actually Spike didn't remember him. Maxwell asked again. "Do you remember me, Spike!"
"Who the bloody hell are you?," Spike asked. This enrage Maxwell. Before he just wanted to kill Spike. Now he wanted to kill Spike really, really slowly. He reached his right hand down to Spike's groin, grabbed his sack, and twisted. Spike yelped in pain. Maxwell was going to make understand how Spike had made him feel all those years ago.
Maxwell choked Spike with his left hand. His face was a few inches from Spike's. "CBGB's. 1977. Maxi.' With the curly hair and the nose ring. The ring you used to lead me around like an ox. Now do you remember?" Instead of twisting, Maxwell's right hand squeezed. Spike squealed and grunted in agony.
Now Spike did remember. This was the wannabe punk. The nicer this kid was to Spike, the more Spike made him suffer. But it was a little late for a simple apology. But Spike tried anyway.
"Maxwell, I was different then. I've changed."
"I know Spike. That's why I'm here. Shoe's on the other bloody foot, mate, as you would say, in that phony-baloney accent, with that phony-baloney Billy Idol hair. And you thought I was the poser!"
Maxwell punched Spike in one kidney, then the other. Then he returned to punching Spike in the stomach and ribs. Eventually, Spike wouldn't be able to hold himself up anymore. Then Maxwell would be free to do whatever he wanted with his dagger, scissors, and corkscrew. By then Spike would be begging for death.
After about a dozen body punches, Spike doubled over. He was standing, but just barely. Maxwell looked at his face, that ridiculously cocky face which laughed at him, that impossibly proud mouth which insulted him. So much for body punches. Time to make Spike a little less pretty.
But Maxwell only got in two more punches to Spike's mouth when Buffy arrived. She heard the sounds of a scuffle and knew it must be vampires. Buffy grabbed Maxwell and threw him into the side of the dumpster.
It had been a slow night. Buffy told Maxwell "I just want to thank you." He got up, she kicked him in the face. "At night I have all this pent-up energy. It keeps me from going to sleep." She punched him twice in the face and let loose a flying spin kick. "I need a way to blow off steam. To get rid of all my excess energy." She grabbed him and flung him into the air. He hit the asphalt twenty feet away.
Buffy was going to have some fun with this vampire. When Maxwell returned to his feet, she did a forward hand spring kick. Then she picked him up, and put him in a headlock. "You wanna know something? Slaying can be a lot like pro wrestling." Buffy sent Maxwell's head into a lamppost. "You know, the old kind of pro wrestling. Where the good guy always wins."
Buffy circled the dazed but upright Maxwell. She hit him with another flying kick. Then another. Then another. Maxwell stayed on his feet, but had been kicked back into the same brick wall he had thrown Spike up against. "Thanks, that was a great workout." And with this Buffy staked him.
She looked down and to her left. There was Spike, sitting on the ground, bruised and bloodied. Oh great. It was Spike she saved. What a waste. She looked at him scornfully and threw her stake at him. The she turned and walked away.
Maxwell had not killed Spike. But he made Spike feel the way Spike had made Maxwell felt. Spike felt pathetic, helpless, like a loser. He had to rely on the Slayer to stick up for him. He owed his life to a woman who detested him. Buffy saw human Spike as pathetic. She had told him as much every time she had the chance. Now Spike had proved her right.