Family Ties chapter 4

Sorry for the delay but commitments between June & August are a b***h. So chapters might be a little erratic but they will be along as soon as I can do them. Thank you everyone for your support and I hope this chapter is OK. It's really hard to follow a visit from a Goddess y'know!

Giles watched the three young people sleep. He smiled at the reaction he would get if he dared call the 130 year old Vampire young but he was. In fact he was convinced that what he had witnessed last night was, in many ways, a new birth, or maybe a re-birth. He doubted that it would change Spike's personality too drastically since all the components that were there before were still present, just a little more evenly balanced.

And Tara. When Angel and Wesley had told them of the terminal nature of the monster's bite his heart had almost broken. That the gentlest of them all would be the one to lose their life would be a travesty of justice beyond all measure. Without Spike's intervention they would probably be planning her funeral today.

As he continued to watch he marvelled at how alive the vampire looked while sleeping. It had always been there, at the back of his mind, that the difference between the living and the dead should be more obvious; but until he had been witness to Angel's corpse like state when asleep he hadn't truly appreciated how alive an un-dead creature Spike was. He even breathed with a slow regularity; he dreamed, twitching rather like a cat chasing mice in it's sleep. Giles didn't want to dwell on exactly what Spike might be chasing but from the occasional spates of purring, the little growls and smacking of lips it had seemed tasty! Giles shuddered at the mental picture of fresh young virgins sacrificed on a bed of wheatabix. He rubbed his eyes…he really should have gotten more sleep.

Giles couldn't help but wonder, and worry, how the others would take this turn of events. Just a year ago, and even, to a lesser extent, last night…before his extraordinary and humbling experience with Gaia, he too would have been mistrusting of the English vampire. He had liked the larger than life character for some time, but trusted him…no; in fact he suspected that Spike would have thought less of him if he had blindly trusted him. A problem that Wesley seemed to be having with his own vampiric associate. Giles knew from personal experience how easy it was to trust the 'good' vampire, though he noted absently that despite his trust of Angel he had never actually liked him….a lesson there, he told himself, and he knew from bitter experience how devastating the betrayal could be when that trust was shattered. Now that the soul was anchored and the vampire had the backing of the so-called powers it was a wonder that the puppy eyed git didn't wander round with a halo atop his head - 'probably mess up the hair' Giles sniggered to himself. And Wesley, though a bit of a twit, was the trusting sort and Angel pandered to his ego making for a teeth clenching level of annoyance. But it didn't do to forget that Wesley was Council trained and Angel had always been the exception rather than the rule. He would have to keep an eye on the Watcher; Gaia had given him a sacred trust last night and he rated that above any 'higher being' dressed in a toga and their precious pet project.

Of course Wesley would, like he himself had, grow out of his pomposity. He winced at the memory of his early days in Sunnydale and his interactions with Buffy and her friends. He frowned as he contemplated the young woman who was as a daughter to him, an all too brief smile momentarily banishing the sadness and guilt he felt at how she had been treated by both him and the others after her traumatic return from heaven. He really didn't want to contemplate what these new developments would do to her already fragile state of mind. If there had been one thing that he had been sure about it was that being with Angel, much as he loathed the monster, would do her good; give her someone to rely on while she got back on her feet, but if anything it seemed to be getting worse. He mentally added looking into that to his 'to do' list.

'Angel, Angel, Angel; everything always came back to that damn devil' he thought 'Soul be buggered, the creature is worse than evil…at least evil is honest about what it is' After witnessing Spike's demon and human halves interact he seriously doubted whether Angel would ever convince him of the autonomy of Angelus again.

Suddenly his drifting thoughts were brought back to the present as the morning sun crept across the bed and a pale, slender, hand lifted itself into the ray's path, purple stones on the silver rings sparkling and a distinct lack of accompanying smoke. Giles watched in awe as he bore witness to a sight that no Watcher before him had seen…the rise of a true daywalker.

Oh, he couldn't wait for Angel/us to see what his selfish cowardice had denied him!

"Mornin' Rupes. Looks like another gloriously sunny day in Sunnyhell"

B*T*V*S

They had searched for most of the night. Everywhere that they could think of. Everywhere that Willow might take Tara in a final attempt to find a cure. Knowing that the situation was hopeless would be no barrier to someone as desperate and determined as the red headed witch. In the end, though, they called off the search with the decision to let Tara die in peace in her lover's arms. They were sure that Giles would watch over Willow and bring her back when the time came.

The participation of Giles in their escape from the hospital, AMA, was puzzling, however. Angel thought that the elder Watcher was being extremely imprudent and said so, at great length, to anyone that would listen and even some that wouldn't. Buffy felt a spark of emotion break through the grey walls she hid behind. She was proud that Giles had put the girls first, before duty, just a pity he couldn't have learned that lesson in time to be there for her. She pulled the walls tight around herself once more. It hurt too much to think of the past; but the spark had gotten through, the dark was a little lighter now.

It was a start.

Anya was bemused. Xander's attack, both verbally and physically had driven her straight back to D'Hoffryn but though the Demon Lord had given her enough hints in the past that he wished her to return to the fold he had refused her petition for re-instatement to the rank of vengeance demon. He hadn't been upset with her but had admitted that he was refusing as a favour to a 'colleague of higher standing' and that he had been informed of an alternate destiny for his favourite daughter. Yet he refused to tell her what that destiny was. Just that someone had helped his 'friend' and deserved a reward. Anya wasn't much pleased to be part of someone else's reward but D'Hoffryn had just smiled, a truly scary sight, and reassured her that it would be her reward too. Now she was more puzzled than ever and what was worse, she had been forbidden to get her revenge on Xander by magical means. And she'd had such a good idea, one that would make 'funny syphilis' look like a slight cold. She shrugged off the thoughts and concentrated on tidying the Magic Box ready for opening. No doubt the others would be cluttering it up later, getting in the way of paying customers.

B*T*V*S

Spike, Tara and Willow all awoke at the same moment, the connection that they had felt the night before still in place, only softer, more of a background hum. Spike suspected that Willow's connection to Tara was stronger than to him just as his was stronger to Tara than her. It made him wonder just what this Trinity lark was about. One thing was for sure though; it was the first time in a very long time that he didn't feel alone. He hated feeling alone. One of Angelus's favourite punishments had been to lock him away for weeks on end, in the dark, sometimes even reburied in a coffin, keeping their familial connection open one way so that he could hear the mental screams. It had been worse than the beatings and still haunted his nightmares. Any further thoughts along that track died away as Tara nudged him gently and tapped his hand.

The hand that rested atop the quilt in a small pool of sunlight.

'Bloody 'ell' he thought as he lifted the unharmed appendage into the path of the dawns light, 'It wasn't a dream!' He sat up slowly, as if movement would undo the miracle that had been wrought, Willow and Tara following suit, still clinging together as if they, too, feared an end to an illusion but with tears of happiness both for themselves and for Spike.

Spike, of course, not being a nancy boy refused to sniffle and would never admit to it being a pretty close call. Instead he caught the Watcher's eye and twin smirks appeared as Spike, like Giles, imagined the look on his Grandsire's face at this turn of events. It would be an even better sight than the time Dru accidentally burnt the pillock's eyebrows off after drinking from that circus fire eater. If only he'd been into hair products back then! he'd have gone up like a roman candle.

"Mornin Rupes" he called cheerily "Looks like another gloriously sunny day in Sunnyhell."

Not having had either the energy or the opportunity the night before the other two of the Trinity and Giles took turns in explaining recent events to a puzzled Tara. The look of gratitude and love that she gave her favourite vampire as his role was explained was reward enough itself as far as Spike was concerned. But he wanted to kill Angel at the look of sorrow that crossed his sister's face when told of his abandonment of her and especially his casual dismissal of Willow's pain. By the time they had finished the sun was well up and Giles sent a text message arranging a meeting later at the Magic Box. Best to have any confrontation in a semi public place at least, he thought, pessimistically.

"Reckon I'd better get changed then" Spike mumbled, looking down at his slightly rumpled but still elegant attire. He hadn't realised that he'd spoken loud enough to be heard until the protesting sounds, one could hardly call them words, whimpers maybe, from the girls reached his delicate hearing.

"NO! No way am I swanning round town looking like a reject from an Anne Rice novel."

"But Spik-ee" Willow teased in her most 'Dawnish' manner. "You look sooo cute". Spike didn't know whether to glare at Willow….and Giles, who was sniggering - the bugger! What happened to British solidarity?! Or whether to smile at Tara's gentle giggle; a sound they thought that they would never hear again.

"At least keep it for special occasions….please?" Tara's soulful eyes twinkled with mirth as she pleaded with the new Spike. She could see that despite him acting like his usual self his aura was now completely different. What had been a muddled swirl of black, grey and red was now a clear ocean blue edged in silver and pale grey; colours echoed by Willow who's aura had also altered from it's original blend to royal blue, white and silver. She suspected that her own aura had also adjusted to reflect the colours of the Goddess. Even Giles now had a thin band of silver framing his normal forest green and pale jade.

Spike looked down at the clothes that he had once worn as a human and sighed.

"Anyone ever calls me Lestat and I'll drain em before they know what hit em."

B*T*V*S

Wesley was beside himself with irritation. It would be anger but he was quite aware that he didn't 'do' anger well. Father had had that emotion beaten out of him at an early age. Irritation, however, was something he excelled at. Damn that Giles! Man thinks he can go off at no notice whatsoever and then ring up out of the blue demanding….demanding mind you…a meeting as though he were still in charge round here. Barefaced cheek! Whilst the older Englishman might have more experience and be a shade more ruthless when needs arose Wesley was in no doubt, in his own mind at least, that HE was the one who had the greater knowledge and the ear of the man…well vampire…in charge. He ignored the little voice in his head that queried whether it should be the Slayer who was in charge and set off in a huff for the Magic Box. Damn man had better have a bloody good reason for his deplorable actions!

Then Wesley remembered just what Giles was likely to have been doing and the fact that in all probability the reason for the meeting was to announce Tara's death and his ire and frustration faded to be replaced for sorrow for not only the young witch that he hadn't really gotten to know but also her partner who shouldn't have to know loss this early in her life. The rest of his trip was spent in sombre reflection.

"Anya!" Xander blushed with shame as he came face to face with his…his ex he supposed; though hopefully not for long. He winced as he saw the faint red imprint of his hand on her cheek.

"I…I didn't expect you to be here. I thought…"

"Thought what Xander Harris? That I would run away from the big bad human? That I would be cowed into submission by your childish actions? Anya's voice was as cold as she could make it, and after 1100 years on earth that was pretty cold indeed. She wished that her features would match but she felt the sting of tears in her eyes and willed them not to fall. It became an even harder task when, out of all she had just said, the man she had thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with picked up on the one word that gave proof that he hadn't learned anything from their last encounter.

"Human!" Xander silently cursed the unmanly squeak in his voice as he automatically backed away from the possibly re-demonized girl. "Then you're not….no longer um…."

Anya considered toying with his fear but the frustration of not being able to turn him into a mass of pustulating boils took away any of the fun of making the threat in the first place. So trying, and failing, to hide her hurt at his continuing prejudice she grabbed up an armful of jasmine scented candles and pushed past him toward the shelves, her voice now clipped and charged with pain.

"I am very much still human Xander Harris, and you are very much still dumped." She stopped and turned as her pain at his betrayal overrode her anger allowing a single tear to fall. "If and when you grow up and learn to deal with your prejudices maybe, just maybe, we can become friends but until then consider yourself a mere acquaintance only.

Xander felt as though he had been slapped and the little part of him that saw things clearly, including his own faults, yet never got to be in control told him that he deserved a lot worse than a verbal slap. As usual when his voice of reason made the attempt the rest of his brain misinterpreted it.

"You…you wouldn't do anything…y'know" he wiggled his fingers in what she assumed was a witch like manner.

"You are hardly worth the effort" she paused - no real need for him to know that she'd been refused permission to exact her vengeance. "…at least at the moment" she continued, taking pleasure at the way his complexion paled and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "But given sufficient reason…" She tossed her hair in what she hoped was a Cordelia like manner and walked away quickly before the overpowering scent of jasmine made her sneeze and ruined the whole effect.

Xander's voice of reason, undeterred at it's previous failure put forward another point that he could hardly blame Spike for this. It was a point that even Xander could not refute, no matter how much he desperately wanted to. He had to face the fact that nobody was to blame for this situation but himself.

He hated growing up.

B*T*V*S

Giles watched with amusement as Willow and Tara stood, one each side of the mansion's front door, coaxing hands beckoning a distinctly nervous vampire forwards.

"C'mon Spike, it'll be fine. Maybe you'll get a bit of colour" Willow was a California girl thru and thru, the place where the tan was king. But Spike knew better

"Or freckles."

As, it seemed, did Giles. Spike sent him a look which in times past would have had the Watcher reaching for a stake but now just made him smirk. 'Dammit!' One of the perks of being turned was the loss of the damn freckles. Not that he would suggest it as a viable beauty tip.

"Don't you trust your Goddess Spike?" Tara's voice was soft but the tease in the eyes was positively devilish.

"Low blow Glinda."

Tara smiled and held out her hand once again and taking a deep and totally unnecessary breath Spike took his first proper steps in the sun in over one hundred years with no magical gem to act as a protector. As he stepped over the threshold each of his hands was grasped gently by smaller ones and he moved fully into the new day. Into a new un-life.

And his eyes immediately slammed shut in watery protection.

"Bugger, that's bright!"

Giles scrabbled through his pockets for his sunglasses. 'Idiot' he chided himself. As far as Spike's eyes were concerned he had just been thrust into the middle of a supernova.

"Don't worry Spike, we'll get you some of your own later." Willow's voice was sympathetic, and not just for his blurry eyesight….nothing owned by Rupert Giles, the king of tweed, could ever be mislabelled as being fashionable.

Spike, for his part, was thankful, for once, that he couldn't see himself in a mirror.

"Well c'mon" he urged in sudden restlessness, as though he hadn't been the one holding them up with his sudden attack of nerves "Scoobies to surprise and vampire tossers to torment. Day's not getting any younger y'know."

With the three simultaneous slaps to the head it was a wonder he didn't have a concussion; he grinned at the warm feeling that was not just from the sunlight soaking through his skin.

B*T*V*S

"Where's the beautiful Cordelia?" Xander's interest in the whereabouts of his ex- girlfriend had an already surly Angel sending a glare his way, which was nice. It was always a good thing to upset his least favourite vampire; Spike only coming a (very) close second to the souled wonder. However his actual mission of enquiring about a girl he no longer gave more than the odd passing thought had been to make Anya jealous…and that had been a dismal failure, if her total lack of discernable interest was anything to go by.

"On her way back to L.A. and then probably to Rome to shoot a hair commercial." supplied Wesley wearily. Having the misfortune to endure his boss alternately ranting and then brooding all morning he wasn't inclined to think well of the pretty actress/model/receptionist.

"Huh?!"

"My thought exactly" offered Doyle to Xander's wordless comment. He was actually a little hurt that she had just upped and left without even a goodbye; he had thought that they had begun to get closer lately.

"It seems that she became incensed over the poor quality of models used in a magazine and contacted the editor claiming that she could do better. He asked for her portfolio and the rest, as they say, is history. She got the call last evening." Wesley had to admit that the looks of complete indifference from Dawn and Buffy were wounding. They had dropped everything to come to this Godforsaken hell hole after all.

"Always knew that hair of hers would become more successful than she would" sniped Xander, still put off by Anya's lack of green eyed jealousy.

"You're just traumatized because your mom used to cut your hair using a pudding basin and the garden shears."

"You promised you'd never tell!" Xander did a double take, mouth opened in a cartoon style O before his brain supplied a word.

"Willow!" And then another fact crashed in on him, on all of them.

"TARA!!"

"Oh My God!"

"You're alive!? How…I mean…you ARE alive right?" Buffy's query was a little more subdued than the exclamations of Dawn and Xander, but one never knew, on the hell mouth, just what constituted 'alive' . That was something that Buffy was an expert at.

Tara and Willow were a little overwhelmed and a little intimidated by the mix of welcoming and suspicious looks. Dawn had even dropped the kitten that Doyle had given her…he really was a sweet man, er, demon. And to her amazement Buffy had okayed it. Of course Angel's immediate refusal to have it in the house…her house….had triggered that old familiar glint in the Slayer's eyes. The one that usually resulted in someone nursing a broken nose but in this case resulted in something even better; an actual independent decision, and a spark of, albeit brief, fire. She had named the pale ginger kitten Peaches. It seemed to annoy Angel for some reason!

Giles could see that Tara was feeling rather reticent and Willow was hovering protectively. He also noted that Spike was standing behind him, out of immediate sight; whether to give Tara centre stage or make an entrance himself he wasn't sure; probably a bit of both.

Giles reached around and pulled Spike off the doorstep and into full view. He had expected uproar at the arrival of the banned vampire. He did not expect, nor did he condone, the slamming of said vampire up against the wall so that he was pinned like a butterfly by Angel's superior strength. Spike, however, made no attempt to fight back.

" 'Lo Peaches, how they hangin'" Spike grinned his trademark smirk, knowing that it would further infuriate the volatile older vamp. To both their amazements, however, and before Angel could attempt to throttle the bane of his existence two sets of strong arms tore the walking forehead away and propelled him into an ungainly heap on the floor.

Giles' intervention didn't surprise Spike in the slightest. The Watcher had become positively clingy since his audience with Gaia, and though even torture wouldn't drag the truth from Spike he didn't really mind. He'd never had anyone except his mum care about him before.

The other set of arms, however, were a total surprise. Who would have thought that Anyanka had that sort of strength. Must be all that shelf stacking and orgasm exercise Spike mused as he righted himself from the sprawl he'd landed in.

"Thanks Pet, Rupes. Never was my ambition to become a wall ornament."

The constant cross-talking and babbling that had begun at their entrance only increased at the violent actions of their leader. As Willow and Tara rushed to their brother and Wesley tried to help an embarrassed and angry Angel to his feet only to be brushed aside Giles decided that enough was enough.

"QUIET!"

Wesley flinched at the power in the word of command. That was Ripper talking, and as much as Wesley thought himself superior to the more experienced Watcher he knew better than to cross Ripper.

Angel, on the other hand, had no such compunction.

"Tara, Willow, get away from him" he gestured towards his grandchilde, "he's dangerous. You should both know better after being in Sunnydale so long."

As the room quietened and Willow and Tara completely ignored Angel's directive Buffy couldn't drag her eyes away from Spike. He seemed different somehow; and there was something about his arrival that was tugging at her brain, never, she had to admit, the best place to look for answers even on a good day. But the overwhelming feelings that washed over her at the sight of the bluer than blue eyes and the platinum hair was the same one that she experienced every time she saw him since her return,

Grief, anger and a strange sense of longing. Buffy knew that the others thought that her emotional response to Spike was hatred, but it wasn't. She had no reason to hate him. He had helped to defeat Acathla and had tried to protect Dawn. She had even heard of some of the things that he had done for Dawn and the scoobies after she had died, although nobody wanted to talk about that time, whether for fear of upsetting her or themselves she wasn't sure and hadn't been able to bring herself to ask. It was just that she couldn't handle the fact that while Spike was, technically, dead he was more alive than she was. He overflowed with life while she felt nothing but a vague grief for passion lost and a bubbling anger when she saw what she suspected was pity in his eyes, and possibly understanding.

She would be damned if she would be pitied by a vampire!

She didn't ask herself just what experiences in Spike's own life, both pre and post turning would enable him to understand what she was going through. To do that would be an act of rationality, and Buffy didn't want to be rational. She wanted to go back to the simplicity of heaven. At least most of her did. But the little spark of fire that had been ignited inside her wanted to know what the hell was going on and why Willow and Tara were clucking around the bleached menace like mother hens; and why Tara was able to cluck at all. Not that she wasn't ecstatic about her seemingly miraculous return to health. Giles' tone, however, made her hold her tongue. She almost chuckled at Wesley's display of humility. Ripper could do that to a person.

Angel had had just about all he could stand for one day, hell, for one lifetime. First Cordy deserts him; then the girl that he had said would certainly die turns up looking fit and well and now…..

Angel sniffed, ignoring the 'eeww' at his action from the youngest Summers. What was that unpleasant….he looked down to see that the kitten that he had forbidden Dawn to have had just peed on his Gucci loafers.

"Why you rabid, verminous rodent…" Before he could complete the kick aimed at the tiny animal it was scooped up in a pale, long fingered hand. Buffy and Dawn, both of whom had begun to dash to the kitten's rescue stopped dead as Spike lifted the now purring kitty to eye level.

" 'Ello little'un. Not seen you around before. Looks like somebody's been dabbling in kitten poker."

Dawn moved forward to take the ecstatically happy kitten that was busy licking Spike's fingers. She looked up at her vampire protector, brother, father and tears welled up in her eyes. She had missed him so much. He gave her a smile and a wink; he understood and she knew that he had missed her just as much.

"Mr Doyle won him. Buffy said I could keep him!"

Spike noticed the Slayer wince at the sheer disbelief in her younger sister's statement. 'Not your fault Pet' he thought. 'Still the best sister and surrogate mother the Nibblet could have….just not quite yourself at the moment. It'll get better, you'll see'

Giles switched into librarian mode and soon had everybody sitting round the slightly too small table. Well anybody that mattered; Spike in between Tara and Willow with Dawn next to Tara, Buffy next to Dawn, then himself, Anya and Doyle. Oh dear, he mused, no room for Angel, Wesley or Xander…pity.

Both Xander and Angel stood as far away from each other as they could get and still be in the thick of it. In fact Angel positively loomed, standing directly behind Buffy, his hands set proprietarily on the back of her chair.

Giles and the Trinity had discussed just what to divulge as they made their way to the Magic Box and it had been decided that the talk of a Trinity, especially one involving Spike would be best left till they had done some private research. So with a rapt audience they told the others of the cure, the meeting of The Goddess and, in general, about her blessing.

All eyes turned to Wesley. It had been his expert opinion that the ritual could not be performed successfully.

"I still say that it is impossible. It must be a trick. Spike has conned you all somehow." He wished that he felt as positive of his position as he sounded. After all…

"Angel was quite categorical in his belief that the ritual could not be completed without the loss of both parties." Wesley was surprised at how little guilt he felt at passing the buck to his boss; he was saving all his guilt for nearly getting Tara killed by listening to the pillock.

"Somebody has to be lying" Angel stated with absolute authority. "There is no way that a vampire demon can face The Goddess or any other benevolent higher being, and survive the experience."

"Well I guess that just makes Spike a better man and a better demon than you doesn't it?" Willow's icy tone sent a chill down Angel's spine. This witch had power, real power; why had he not noticed it before? He wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Oh and I forgot to mention that as a reward for his courage and sacrifice The Goddess gave Spike a gift" Giles voice had taken on a distinct air of smugness.

"Gift? What gift?" Wesley, Angel and Anya spoke simultaneously though only Anya's query held a happy excitement - she knew that the Gods did not bestow their gifts lightly and they were always worth receiving. Both Wesley and Angel felt a shiver of apprehension.

Spike rose to his feet and gave a cocky grin as he sauntered out into the pool of sunlight that poured through the display window.

Buffy and Dawn gaped at the sight of ….what was Giles calling him? A Daywalker? Surely that was a myth, yet here he stood, beautiful and ethereal and Buffy experienced another moment of aliveness vicariously through Spike's obvious joy. Perhaps pushing him away wasn't doing her as much good as Angel claimed it would. She seemed to feel more…well just feel, period, in his company. She winced as Dawn's delighted squeal cracked decibel records and looking around her she noted that everyone was as pole axed as she was.

Wesley began to frantically polish his glasses, absently making a note to get contact lenses before he actually became Giles and to try to interview Spike as soon as possible for the Watcher diaries. He looked at the older vampire and gulped. Angel was not taking this well, not well at all.

Everybody suddenly backed away as with an almighty roar of anger and hatred Angel rushed toward his soon to be dusty grandchilde. Unable to get close enough to tackle the light bathed figure he grabbed a stake from the table and….

Found himself face to pointy end of a crossbow.

Giles motioned for him to back up and shot Spike a look of exasperation as the laughter coming from the pool of light was only inflaming the situation. He looked once again at the pain and jealousy on Angels's face and decided to have a serious talk with his young vampiric charge about proper behaviour….eventually.

"Um…would this be a good time to mention that I had a bit of a vision and we've all got to go to England to stop an apocalypse?" Ahh thought Doyle, nothing like a well timed apocalypse to break the tension.

"Bloody hell" came three English accented exclamations while Buffy wondered if they had Starbucks over there.

TBC