Chapter Three - LINKAPALOOZA
Spike couldn't sleep.
He knew it was day from the diluted sunlight filtering through the crypt's barred windows and from the creeping lethargy that always accompanied the light. Unfortunately he was too preoccupied for a nap. Too wired. It was almost like a real bad case of blood buzz - a condition he'd been fairly susceptible to in the good old days when he'd been able to kill people.
He fidgeted in his chair, kicking at the duster he'd draped over his legs like a blanket. Something about this link didn't sit right, and he couldn't quite figure it.
The original intent of it had been to determine how Buffy truly felt about him. That hadn't gone so well, even if it did confirm her attraction to him.
He should be pleased that he'd actually been right about that all along. He should be rubbing her smug Slayer nose in it. He should be taking advantage.
Should be, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Sodding conscience did him in every time.
Spike didn't know how he even had a conscience in the first place. It was just there. He did sometimes get the impression that a fragment of his former soul was still present - a trace of that insipid fop William. Most of the time he'd been able to keep it at bay, but lately the thing had been working overtime. The instant he contemplated anything even resembling evil he got a severe case of the what-ifs. Not to mention the crippling guilt about the stuff he'd already done. A hundred years of misadventure had ganged together and whacked him upside the head with a huge chip-shaped reality bat.
Reality sucked.
He smiled at that. Actually, his reality didn't suck. It kinda slurped. It sometimes even sipped. Sorry, kids, no sucking allowed. He was living on carryout these days, and not human either. He used to find the lack of fresh-killed food disheartening, depressing really, then he recognized that he'd allowed himself to get into brood-mode, acting not unlike a certain sire of his.
Spike's smile twisted into a sneer.
Bloody Peaches and his self-righteous attitude out there giving vampires a bad name. 'I've got a soul and you haven't ... I'm so much better than you are'. The thought annoyed him no end. Of course he had to admit that there was the Buffy Factor to include in that annoyance equation. He didn't like contemplating the idea of his Slayer being with Angel at all.
Spike burrowed further under his duster, pulling it up to his chin. He used to ridicule Angel and his Buffy fixation, and look at him now. Obsession didn't begin to cover the situation. It was nauseatingly laughable. Someone in charge had a bizarre sense of humor.
He sighed and leant his head back to contemplate the intricacies of the cobwebby ceiling.
Maybe another link-up was the way to go. Maybe a little Buffy-sparring session would relax him and then, just maybe, he'd be able to get a beat on whatever the hell was bugging him about this bloody link in the first place.
~*[+]*~
The Magic Box's door chimes jangled alerting Willow and Tara to the arrival of Xander and Anya. They looked up from their research and exchanged a worried glance.
Anya gave them a disinterested look and went behind the counter. She opened the till and began counting the money.
"Hey, what's with?" Xander greeted them, gesturing at the multiple book stacks piled on the table. "Did I bypass the bat signal?" He glanced up as Giles descended from the loft.
"We're, um, just browsing for a s-spell," Tara offered.
"Yeah. Just a spell. Just a little, unspecial, circumspecty spell," Willow agreed with nervous effusiveness. "No biggie."
Xander stared at her, and then looked to Giles. "And Alfred always enjoys a spot of full-on spell huntage for reasons of the non-particular."
Giles blinked. "Was that even English?"
"All these years and he still can't translate Scooby," Buffy commented, coming in from the danger room. She narrowed her eyes meaningfully at the assembled group. "But still, nothing's up. Right guys?"
"Right," Willow beamed, patently lying through her teeth. Tara fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Here's an idea," Xander said. "How about we play 'let's tell Xander the truth'. 'Cause, gotta tell ya, sucking at this nifty lying game."
Anya came to stand at his side. "Who's lying to Xander?" she asked. "You shouldn't lie to Xander. That's wrong."
Buffy unexpectedly stood to attention, her spine snapping into rigidity. Her eyes lost focus and she stared blankly into space.
Anya glanced at her. "That's wrong, too."
Xander gaped. "Buff?" She didn't reply and he turned worriedly to Willow and Tara. They appeared unfazed. "Huh?"
"Incoming message from the Big Giant Head-ache," Willow quoted, her smile twisting with irony. "You'd better be off sittin' down. 'Cause this might take some time."
"Again with the 'huh?'" Xander waved a hand in front of Buffy's face. She didn't so much as blink. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine."
Xander peered inquiringly at Giles. The Watcher nodded reassuringly, but seemed inclined to ignore the oddity.
"I thought I said 'not now'," Buffy exclaimed abruptly. "I swear to God..." Her voice trailed off.
"Also not liking the talkin' to the big fat no-one," Xander frowned.
"I've seen this before," Anya reported, nodding a little. "It's a demony thing."
"Like that's gonna happen," Buffy scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.
"It's kinda like eavesdropping, but on the uninformative half," Xander said. He sat down at the table and halved a pile of books so that he could see Willow.
"It certainly is," she said.
"So who's on the other end?" Xander continued to observe Buffy as she went on arguing with the invisible someone, her silent debate occasionally springing to life in vocal bursts. Freaky. Familiar freaky. In fact, she only argued like that with one other person...
"Oh man. Spike?" Xander's disbelieving gaze swung back to Willow. She met his eyes a little sheepishly.
"Um, yeah, well ... there's a reason."
"A good reason," Tara chimed in.
"Well, I should think so," Anya declared. "Because everyone knows telepathic connections to demons are never a good idea without a reason."
Buffy snorted loudly, startling everyone. They watched as she lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the floor, her head tilting to the side as though she was contemplating something of interest. Her eyes remained completely unfocused and she wore a bemused smile. "Oh yeah, since when?" she challenged.
"Am I the only one with the wiggins?" Xander asked.
"Pretty much the Lone Wigger," Tara teased shyly.
"She's been havin' the on-offs for a while now," Willow told him. "You get used to it."
"Hey, having the Evil Dead invading our Buffster is not something I wanna get used to!"
"And so say all of us," Giles applauded. He'd been strangely quiet up to this point.
"Workin' on the un-invasion," Willow said. She held up a book to Giles. "What about?"
"No, no. The Rites of Tadu are for possession by Chann demon." He paused, thinking for a moment. "There may be something of use in the Tadu Rituals Appendices, however."
"How're the Tadu Rituals different from the Rites of Tadu?" Willow frowned. "Soundin' all alike now."
"The Tadu Rituals are a century older," Anya supplied, sitting alongside Xander and reaching for a book. "And much more boring."
Buffy started laughing. They ignored her.
Xander was incredulous. "She finds him amusing? Spike's barrel-o-laughs boy?"
Willow focused her full attention on him. "Xander don't."
"Don't what?"
"Just don't." She held his gaze. "Things are hell-in-a-handbaskety enough already."
"C'mon Will! I mean, Buffy and Spike makin' with the ha-has? It's just too freaksome."
"Now honey, don't get all flustered." Anya patted his arm soothingly. "It's not very attractive."
Xander sighed. "What's the what with the thing anyway?"
~*[+]*~
The garishly painted mini-bus that drove into Sunnydale's early afternoon garnered no undue suspicion despite its odd appearance. Its rear windows were blackened - a stark contrast to the neon pink of its enameled surface and the gigantic yellow smiley-face decorating the driver's door. If the citizens of the Hellmouth-town had cared to look more closely, they would have seen that the driver himself was nowhere in the vicinity of normal.
Apollyon the Keratos demon perched awkwardly on a seat that was much too small for his cumbersome form, his claws hooked inexpertly around the wheel.
"Soon", he said. "Nigh the destiny."
A giggle sounded from the rear of the vehicle.
"You sound funny," a childlike voice proclaimed from out of the darkness. "Like swimming turtles."
Apollyon was used to the girl's strange turn-of-phrase, but the analogy was beyond him. The most accurate description he'd yet heard of his voice was a comparison to Darth Vader on helium, an unusual correspondence coincidentally made by the very being they had come here to find - the vampire known as Spike.
"Precisely lurks whereby?" he asked, his dual tongues lisping. Comprehension of Kera-speak took some time, the language itself being somewhat limiting, but Apollyon's passenger gleaned his meaning from his thoughts as well as his stilted diction.
The passenger leant slightly forward, evading the direct sunlight.
"Just drive, my pet," Drusilla instructed, smiling serenely. She stroked the scales of his plated shoulder, carefully avoiding the protruding set of perceptive tentacles. "The stars have told Mummy where to find her beautiful deadly boy."
~*[+]*~
"So, Buff's on Deadboy Junior's speed dial and if we can't find this spell, then its full-on linkapalooza," Xander summarized.
"And after what seems like hours of trying, that sounds essentially correct," Giles nodded tiredly. "At this point I'm finding myself at somewhat of a loose end. We're fast running out of options."
"There's a time limit?" Xander opened a book and rapidly flipped the pages. He stopped suddenly as a thought came to him. "Wait. Color me wacky, but why don't we just stake his limey ass?"
"I've already suggested something similar," Giles said. "Buffy was not receptive to the idea."
"It's not an option," Buffy stated firmly, rising from her position on the floor.
"You're back with us I see," Giles did not sound particularly pleased.
"You bet," she gave him a wide smile. "I'm free to forage."
"And Spike?" The name curled distastefully on Giles' lips.
"He's a-sleepin'."
"Well, its about time," Willow remarked. "A little while longer and it'll be time for gettin' up again."
Buffy frowned. "How long have I been out?"
"This last session was almost an hour," Giles said. "Buffy, I did warn you of the hazards of continuing with the link."
"Yeah, I know. Permanent. Inseparable. Two halves of one mind. Blah-blah-blah. Gotta tell you, right now its not sounding overly bad."
There was dead silence as they all stared at her, perplexed.
"Kidding! Jeez, can't you guys take a joke?"
~*[+]*~
Spike woke from his long overdue afternoon nap with the innate knowledge that there was someone - or something - in the crypt with him. An insidious sense of familiarity permeated the knowledge, twisting it into the shape of someone he knew.
"Who's there?" he asked into the darkness, already dreading the answer.
"Someone who'll make it all better again."
"Dru?" He stood up in surprise, his duster slithering down to puddle on the floor at his feet. He looked at it for a moment and then bent to pick it up.
Drusilla emerged from the shadows of the crypt's doorway, her pale face ethereally beautiful in the subtle light.
"Ooh, behold my William!" She bubbled. "All the colors of the rainbow." She reached out toward his unbleached hair.
He shrank back, suspicious, holding his duster in front of him like a shield.
"Why are you here?" He hoped she wasn't planning anything too fiendish, he'd hate to have to stake her.
"I've brought a house guest," she replied, moving to enfold him in her arms. "Are you going to ask us to stay?"
She hadn't turned up with one of her hellish boyfriends, had she? Spike really hoped that it wasn't another Chaos demon. He didn't want slime dribbling on his floor.
"Not until you explain what this is about," he told her, evading her embrace and pacing away to the other side of the crypt. He draped his duster across the sarcophagus with a reverential care.
"I want you at my side, my darling," Drusilla informed him, pouting prettily. "You belong with your Mummy like all the little children."
Spike frowned at her.
"In case you've forgotten, love, you dumped me. I'm not gonna come running back to you now. I'm not that pathetic anymore." At least he hoped he wasn't. He guessed that the Slayer would debate the fact. And quite strenuously too.
"Everything should be as it was," Drusilla insisted. "Everything should be topsy-turvy and delicious." She ran the tip of her fingernail across her lower lip.
"O-Kay." Spike wasn't sure how to take this. A year ago this would have been his dream come true, his dark princess begging him to come back. But this wasn't a year ago. Things had changed. He had changed. He didn't need her to need him anymore. He folded his arms. "So who's this house guest then?"
The heavy wooden door swung open at the question, slamming into the adjacent wall, and an enormous form all but filled the entrance. Spike was in a defensive fighting stance before he even realized.
It was absolutely huge, brawny, and covered with scales of a sickly greenish color. A series of long prehensile tentacles grew from its armored shoulders and a coronet of barbed horns decorated its massive reptilian head.
"Of Keratos," the beast cheerfully announced, throwing its muscular arms so wide that black claws accidentally gouged the stone on either side of the opening. A peculiar guttural sound shaped its words and they were accented by a tremulous whining.
Spike recognized Kera-speak when he heard it and he lowered his fists. The Keratos might resemble a hideous monster, but he was one of the gentlest creatures Spike knew.
"Oh great, it's you." He relaxed for a moment - relieved that this wasn't one of the sporadic attacks he'd been subjected to since the chip. He couldn't deal with some half-baked vengeance-seeking vamp as well as his ex. Then his temper flared. "Apollyon, you scaly sod, what the bleedin' hell did you put in my head?"
The demon's head turned at a ninety-degree angle and he regarded the vampire with one inquisitive green eye. "Specific be," he lisped. "Did asked as."
"Yeah, I know I asked you how to read a human's mind, but you neglected to tell me of your bloody social disease problem." He pointed angrily at his temple. "Its not like I haven't already got something foreign crammed in here."
Drusilla watched them with a self-satisfied smile playing across her lips. She swayed a little from side to side, her long skirt brushing against the floor.
Spike recognized the expression as one he was well acquainted with. He narrowed his eyes at her, wary. "What do you know of this, pet?"
It was then that he felt the tugging sensation, the probe of swirling black tendrils violating his mind as she tried to get in. He'd seen her do this to countless others but she'd never attempted it on him and his head reeled back in surprise.
"What are you doing?"
Drusilla's eyes widened and she moaned softly. As she began retreating backward in horror, the moan rose steadily into a distressed howl.
"All wrong. It's all gone wrong," she ranted, pulling out a fistful of long dark hair. "My Spike, my poor lost Spike, linked up with the nasty Slayer." She hugged herself and sank to her knees, babbling incoherently. "It goes awry and derails. And Miss Edith wants to ride the train."
Spike arched an eyebrow at Apollyon, smiling maliciously as it came together in his head. "You were in on this," he concluded.
"Well was reward," Apollyon's tentacles rippled in a kind of apologetic shrug. He reached forward with a cruelly hooked talon and carefully tapped the side of Spike's head. His unblinking green eyes twinkled with mirth. "Serpiente?"
"Yeah, mate. Thanks a bloody lot."
"The Slayer floats," Drusilla murmured, rocking slightly and weaving the strands of her hair around her fingers. "Laughing around my baby like balloons in the parade. Floating, floating ... confetti in the wind."
Spike blinked at her. Had anything she said ever made sense?
He wondered at the odd feeling of detachment, the utter lack of sentiment he felt toward the woman who had made him what he was. She was his goddess, his wicked ripe plum. He should be falling at her feet and pleading for forgiveness. All he could dredge up was a surprisingly painful stab of pity. It was the one thing Dru had never previously inspired in him. He'd recognized her illness and loved her in spite of it. Now he was seeing her through unbiased eyes and it wasn't a pretty sight. Maybe he'd never really loved her at all. Maybe he had stayed because of some distorted sense of obligation - that vestige of William rearing its daft romantic head.
"So, let's get this straight," he said, addressing the demon without taking his eyes from the wretched figure on the ground. "Dru wanted to get this Serpiente link set up between me 'n' her, yeah? And you went right along with the plan for a bit of cash on the side?"
Apollyon appeared to be highly amused by the state of affairs. He bared pointed yellow teeth in a ghastly semblance of a smile.
"She wasn't expecting me to come high-tailing it back here so fast," Spike nodded to himself. A certain twisted sense was coming of this now. "Wasn't expecting me to try something with the Slayer." He turned to Apollyon. "You knew, though."
Apollyon guffawed, a frightening cacophony that defied description. "Spike heart book open," he gurgled. "Easy read."
Spike squinted at him. "It is not. Take that back."
The demon's dual tongues flicked out in an impudent manner, a Keratos raspberry.
"All Keratos aware," Apollyon advised. "Assistance repay. Favor does. "
"You thought you were doing me a favor?" Spike gaped at him, confounded. "Clueless bloody demon. You needn't have been thinking of paybacks. As far as I'm concerned we're all evened up. Besides, anyone would have done the same." He sighed and contemplated Drusilla, who had lapsed into a state of cataplexy. "And what precisely am I supposed to do with her now?"
~*[+]*~
Twilight had descended again, accompanied by misty rain. Spike loitered in the dampening shadows of the footpath outside the magic shop's entrance and lit a cigarette. Normally he wouldn't be this apprehensive and he hated it. It wasn't as though the Scooby gang's opinion of him mattered any, or that he was worried about a confrontation with the Slayer.
All right, so maybe he was a little nervous about seeing Buffy in person for the first time since the link had been properly established. It was only natural. She was probably going to kick his ass. That wasn't entirely what bothered him, though. She'd kicked his ass plenty of times before. He had even been known to enjoy it. No, it was the emotional connotations of the meeting that were hanging over his head in a whole proverbial Sword of Damocles deal.
He began to pace, casting agitated glances at the building. Then he realized what he was doing and stopped, blowing out a cloud of smoke. He was startled as a voice came from the street behind him.
"They don't bite, you know."
Spike glanced over his shoulder at Buffy. "Ha-bloody-ha, Summers. Was that a stab at irony?"
Buffy moved to stand at his side. They contemplated the closed door in silence.
"This is gonna be fun," Buffy commented after a while.
"Oh sure, a real party," Spike grunted. "Being hauled over the coals by a sodding bunch of..."
"Hey, those are my friends!" Buffy protested.
"Exactly." Spike took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it onto the footpath. He didn't want to do this but, as usual, he had no choice in the matter.
"So," Buffy said, stepping in front of him. "Are you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" He studiously avoided her eyes, staring off down the street.
"Enough with the evasive, already." She reached up and grabbed hold of his chin, forcibly turning it toward her. There was a slight cracking sound.
"Ow! Bloody hell!" He slapped her hand away and rubbed at his neck. "That hurt, you stupid bint."
"You didn't used to be this close-mouthed," Buffy said, ignoring the flash of guilt at his injury. She wanted an answer. "What happened to the in-your-face, honest-to-the-point-of-insulting vamp that we all know and ... don't like very much?"
Spike snorted. "And you expect me to lay myself open for inspection? Give up a nice big slice o' Spike?" He shook his head. "You're not ready for it."
He'd much rather face an angry Scooby-mob than bare his unsoul to Buffy. She already knew too much and he wasn't prepared for her to know the rest.
"Can I ask you something?"
"What's that, pet?"
"Did you know that when you opened the link I'd be able to feel everything you do?"
She could feel everything that he ... Oh brilliant. So much for not being prepared. She knew. She bloody knew. Spike was at a loss now and horribly embarrassed. He shuffled his feet, wanting desperately to be somewhere else. The other side of the planet would be good.
Buffy was still talking. "Is it the same for you? Can you get what I'm-?"
He sighed. "It's a bit more vague from this side," he told her, deciding that honesty was his best bet right now, "I'd most likely get the bonus level if you went ahead and made the first move. But I don't expect that's gonna be happening."
She gave him a small sympathetic smile. "Probably not."
He nodded, masking his disappointment, and silence reigned for a few moments.
"So, Spike, how long have you loved me?" Buffy couldn't hold it in any longer, the curiosity was driving her nuts.
"Oh please! Get over yourself! I don't..." Spike began to protest, but rapidly realized the futility of it. "I don't know. Since the beginning maybe?"
He shrugged. "Dru and me started driftin' apart right after we arrived in merry old Sunny-hell. I blamed it on her demented thing with Angelus. Turns out it was me all along." His lips twisted. "I once told her this place was cursed for us," he confessed. "If only I'd bloody known..."
"Cursed?" Buffy was confused. "Were you magic-whacked by gypsies, too? Is that why you're so chock-full with the feelings?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Slayer, but I've always been able to feel stuff. No soul included." He wasn't near as certain about that as he let on, but Buffy needn't know of that just now.
"Something must have gone really wrong when you were turned," she mused, studying him thoughtfully. "And I mean in a major way."
Spike considered that for a moment. Might be worth looking into.
"Well I can't help there," he said. "Don't know the full story myself. I can remember Dru doing the draining, but Peaches sired me. They never spoke of it after and I was just happy to be my vampy little self." He grinned. "A huge improvement on the previous existence, I can tell you."
"What's that mean?"
Spike was suddenly aware of how much he'd almost given away. He might have feelings for the girl but no one got close to the real him, not even Dru.
"Sorry love, this conversation is over." He elbowed his way past her and entered the store, only to come to a halt as a fresh wave of apprehension hit him.
Damn, he was getting soft.
Buffy came in behind and shoved him forward. He staggered and then tripped down the stairs, landing heavily on the tiled floor.
Xander stood and began a slow clap. "I'd give that a five for effort. Technique was a little sloppy."
Giles diverted his attention from the book he was reading and simply stared, an intense dislike burning in his eyes.
Willow and Tara leant across the counter to peer down at Spike.
"Wow ... Oh my, wow. What did you..." Willow exchanged glances with Buffy. "I mean, what didn't you do to your hair?"
Spike stood and straightened his duster. "Why are you all so bloody fixated on a blokes hair?" he asked.
"It's new," Anya said. "And different. And a little off-putting."
"What? I can't have a change of image to go with the new improved Spike, now available with neutering chip?"
"And built-in Buffy channel," Xander noted, glaring at the vampire. "I'd say these so-called improvements need an overhaul." He raised a hand. "All in favor of staking Non-Bleach Boy?"
"I've already said that wasn't an option," Buffy told him angrily.
Spike raised his brows at her, surprised. "You did?"
"Yes I did." Buffy's glare took in the whole gang, daring them to say anything further on the Spike-staking issue. "We don't know what it will do to me."
"Your compassion is overwhelming, Slayer," Spike drawled sarcastically.
"You got me on a good day."
"Spike, why are you here?" Giles sounded tired and irritated.
"Well excuse me for thinkin' that you might wanna know a bit more about this Serpiente deal. I'll just be toddlin' off then..." He turned toward the exit.
"You came to willingly provide information?" Giles stared at the vampire skeptically.
"Don't sound so bloody surprised. I'm not altogether happy with the situation, you know. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
Buffy seized his arm and he looked at her pointedly.
"Can't keep your hands off, can you?" he asked.
"What wasn't supposed to happen?" she inquired, disregarding his comment. She'd get him back for that later. "Just how much of this were you in on?"
"No need to get all suspicious." Spike thrust his hands deep into his pockets and pulled away from Buffy's grasp. Here it went then. "I only knew of the initial mind-readin' thing. Apollyon was supposed to show me how to read your thoughts. He didn't let on about the Serpiente and he was being well paid not to."
"Paid?" Giles frowned. "By whom?"
Spike hunched his shoulders and gave them an apologetic smile. "Drusilla."
"I knew it!" Buffy cried, throwing her hands in the air. "I just knew it! That skanky lunatic 'ho and her psychotic mind games..."
"Slayer, lay off." Spike spoke quietly, oddly serious, and the gang stared at him in amazement as Buffy complied.
"Hey," Anya was intrigued. "How did you do that?"
"Yes, that was quite masterful, Spike." Giles said. "You'll have to enlighten me as to the trick. There have been numerous occasions when it's been difficult to get Buffy to listen to reason."
"No trick," Buffy protested. "I don't need to be tricked." She scowled. "And that was so not masterful. I just ... really wanna know what he has to say."
"Who's Apollyon?" Tara asked timidly. "Th -That was the name, right?"
Spike rolled his head from side to side. He was really working up a knot of tension here. "He's the Keratos demon."
"The same one that you previously mentioned I presume," Giles began scribbling in his notebook.
"Right. And just my bleedin' luck to get the only Keratos in the world with a demented sense of humor."
"This was a joke?" Xander stared. "Some whatsis-demon did this to you being all practical jokey?"
Spike snorted. "No mate, this was a favor." He held up a hand as a murmur of protest rippled through the group. "Not one I asked for, mind, I didn't put in a linking-up request. I just wanted to test a theory."
"A theory?" Giles ceased his incessant note taking and regarded Spike with heavy mistrust.
"Is there an echo?" Spike exaggeratedly searched around. "I said 'theory' dint I? I meant 'theory'. Is there some reason you lot are making me say everything twice?"
"Don't be defensive," Buffy cautioned. "You get all snappy and sarcastic."
Spike peered at her. "Do tell," he urged dryly. "I'm fascinated by your insight."
"I rest my case," she said.
"So when isn't he snappy and sarcastic?" Xander asked. "I thought it was his natural demeanor."
"Ooh big word!" Spike jeered. "Swallow the Watcher's thesaurus, lackbrain?"
Giles cleared his throat. "Tell me about this theory that you wanted to test."
"Not likely." Spike glared. "It was personal. It's gonna stay that way."
"But..." Giles wasn't used to his authority being questioned.
"The theory was only a motivation," Spike explained slowly, as though addressing a child. "The theory isn't the factor you should be focusing on. The Serpiente is the focus, people. And the Serpiente was an accident - a bloody stupid accident. All on account of Dru being up to her usual no-good."
He put his hands on his hips and eyeballed each Scooby. "I am not the bad guy, here. You'd do well to remember it."
They had the grace to seem abashed at their treatment of him, and he gave them one of his genuine grins. "Right. Now that's all settled, we found a way to get this linky-thing broke up?"
"Hold up a minute there, mister," Buffy interjected. "How did you find out about Drusilla in the first place?"
Spike sucked on his lower lip. "She came for a visit. Turned up on my doorstep all 'Come back to me Spikey dearest' and expectin' me to fall at her feet like the miserable lap-dog I was."
Buffy's expression turned murderous. "And where is she now?"
"At the crypt. Actually, more like tied up under the crypt, being watched by our friendly neighborhood Keratos."
"Is that a good idea?" Willow asked. "I mean, she paid him before. If she offers enough of a cash-incentive..."
"Not today, Red," Spike promptly informed her. "She's done a flip-out. It'll take her a couple o' days to come round - maybe longer. I've seen episodes like this drag out for months at a time. Besides Apollyon owes me." The vampire's brow furrowed. "At least, he did. Seems to think this link is some sort of positive payback." He shrugged. "Go figure."
"Why are you being so flippant?" Buffy demanded. Giles was right - he was being way too cavalier about this. She stared at him, irritated, and then cast caution to the wind. She was probably going to regret this later, but ... She took a deep breath and concentrated on him - hard.
Everyone else in the room seemed to disappear.
Spike reeled as Buffy's essence slammed into him full-force, the white flashbulb blinding him temporarily. He gaped at her as emotions flooded him.
"Jesus, Slayer," he whispered in awe. "Do you understand what you just did?"
Buffy couldn't fully comprehend why she'd initiated the link. She had no clear motive, but had been her first instinct and she went with it, having learned that it was usually the best way to go in most circumstances. The jury was still out on this one. All she knew was that it felt right. Actually, it felt more than right - it felt ... perfect.
"So I get the bonus level after all," Spike registered with satisfaction.
"Looks like." Buffy stepped forward and took his hand, needing to touch him. She had the impression that he'd become an essential part of her. "How's it feel?"
Spike closed his eyes and absorbed the staggeringly powerful rush of sensation that buffeted him. It brought with it a range of disconcerting side effects - a dull roar in his ears and a trembling in his limbs. He assumed they were a result of being exposed to her humanness. The expression on his face shifted to reveal pure ecstasy, and then he frowned. He suddenly realized that there was something he'd missed.
"Um, Slayer?" he said hesitantly. "My heart's beating."
