Save the Last Dance for Me
By: Passion4Spike
Chapter 4: Shoddy Workmanship
Chapter Summary:
What happens when Buffy's friends learn that Spike can get around the chip?
Buffy couldn't remember feeling this light, this happy, since she'd been back, after being rudely yanked out of heaven, or even before she died, for that matter. She hummed a jaunty tune under her breath as she walked through the cemetery toward Spike's crypt. The tapes, DVDs, and computer discs were not only melted, but crushed into teeny-tiny pieces and scattered in several dumpsters – she was taking no chances that someone could put Humpty Dumpty together again. She had double-checked Warren's 'lair', aka: his mother's basement, to make sure they'd gotten everything. As far as she could tell, they had. And, to top it off, she was confident that even the Sunnydale Police could solve the gem heists when she delivered Warren and the jewels to their doorstep.
And, she'd broken up with Spike.
Her happy tune ended abruptly, and her bouncing steps faltered. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Of course she was happy about that. It had to be done. That's all there was to it. Happy. Happy as a ghost on Halloween. Happy as a witch with a new broom. Happy as a vamp in a blood bank. Happy as a Slayer in a stake factory. That was her. Happy, happy, happy.
Buffy rolled her eyes and picked up her pace. Once she retrieved Warren and the gems then she wouldn't have to see Spike again. Ever. For some reason that thought, which in the past would've filled her with joy, seemed to fall flat now, leaving a little tinge of regret lingering somewhere deep inside. Of course, she promptly swept that feeling aside and ignored it, as she was very practiced at doing with such emotions.
As Buffy got near Spike's crypt, all thoughts of her happiness vanished, replaced by confusion and concern when she heard angry, raised voices coming from the direction of the vampire's humble abode. Even though she couldn't make out the words, she recognized the voices at once: The Scoobies.
Buffy took off running the last few yards and crashed through the door in an explosion of dust and creaking hinges.
Everyone froze in that moment and she took in the scene:
Xander was standing in front of Spike, menacing him with a stake, ready to strike. Spike, who looked like he'd been beaten up, his eyes swollen nearly closed, was backed up against one wall. Tara was pushing on Xander's chest, trying to insert herself between the angry man and the helpless vampire. Dawn was pulling on Xander's stake-free arm, trying to move him back, apparently to little effect.
On the other side of the crypt, Anya and Willow were bent over a semi-conscious, bloody and beaten, but demon-skin-less Warren, trying to assess his injuries and provide comfort.
In the next moment, everyone began speaking at once.
"Buffy!"
"Spike's killing again!"
"Buffy! Stop him!"
"Warren's hurt! We need a hospital!"
"This is the last straw!"
"I know Spike didn't do it!"
Buffy held both of her hands up, palms facing the group, and yelled, "STOP!" at the top of her lungs, drowning out the cacophony of voices.
They all stopped. They stopped talking and stopped moving for an instant, which Buffy took advantage of.
She headed for Xander first, pushing him back several paces from Spike, then asked no one in particular, "What's going on here? Why are you all here?"
Anya was the first one to recover. She stood up from kneeling near Warren and explained, "Well, Dawn came over for movie night with Spike. You know, the first Tuesday of every month? It started when you were gone, you know, when you were in heaven? Which we rudely dragged you out of. I think tonight was supposed to be a romcom – which I find odd, because I didn't know vampires liked romcom – but I didn't get a chance to ask which one yet."
Buffy clenched her jaw in frustration. She'd completely forgotten about movie night, with everything going on, Spike probably had too.
"'When Harry Met Sally,'" Dawn interjected.
"Oh! I found that early example of the genre very entertaining! That scene in the deli when Meg Ryan performed a fake orgasm was extremely realistic…" Anya, continued.
"Anya! Focus!" Buffy interrupted.
"Oh! We'll discuss it when Buffy's done bossing everyone around," Anya assured Dawn confidentially, before turning back to the Slayer. "Well, then Xander and I came by to just check on Dawn and walk her home – you know how Xander is about Spike! – at which time Xander discovered the human in the demon suit because he started moaning over here. Of course, that set off a series of expletives, exclamations, and a rather severe beating. The witches were passing by and heard the shouting, so they came to see what was going on. And, here we are! It would be a party, except the movie's over and all the popcorn's gone."
"And not a bloody one of you knocked! Ill-bred clods, the lot of you!" Spike interjected helpfully.
Dawn raised her hand timidly, just about shoulder height, and gave Spike a questioning look.
"'Cept the nibblet," he amended. "She knocked."
Buffy sighed, held up her hands again and turned to look directly at Tara. "Let's skip the Miss Manners lesson and go right to the beating up Spike part. What happened?"
Before Tara could stammer out even the start of an explanation, Xander jumped in from behind Buffy, his righteous indignation restored. "Spike's figured out a way to fool the chip!"
Buffy rolled her eyes and spun around to face her furious friend. Behind her, she could hear Tara and Dawn helping Spike to a chair.
"I know," Buffy replied to Xander in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, folding her arms over her chest.
Xander didn't seem to hear her. He gesticulated wildly with the stake, waving it between Spike and Warren. "He dressed Warren in a dead demon skin!"
"I know."
"He tortured him!"
"I know."
"He could kill any of us at any time!"
"I know."
"He's … he's evil!"
"I know."
"He's got all the stolen gems!"
"I know."
"Look at Warren!" Xander insisted, her words still not registering with him as he moved toward the fallen villain. "He's beat to shit! He's got a black eye, a broken nose, missing teeth!"
Buffy shrugged, moving over and peering down at the blackmailer. "Pretty sure I did that when I knocked him out."
Xander's face went through a myriad of emotions, from confusion to utter confusion, as he tried to process her words.
"What …? What do you mean, 'I know'?"
"What part of 'I know' can't you understand, Xan?" Buffy asked sarcastically as she planted her hands on her hips.
"I told you so," Spike croaked indignantly from his chair. "Bloody git wouldn't listen. Stake first, ask the Slayer later, that's his bloody policy."
Buffy sighed and opened the treasure chest that sat atop the tomb near Warren. She spread the gems out on top of it like a glittering table-runner ready for Christmas dinner. The group, including a bruised and battered Spike, assisted by Dawn and Tara, encircled the tomb to look.
"Warren's been stealing jewels," Buffy explained, thinking fast. "Spike and I found out and … I needed Warren to tell me where they were, but couldn't get him to talk. Spike could and did." She shrugged, as if it was an everyday occurrence.
"You …" Xander stared at her agape, unable to finish the thought.
"Shut your mouth, you'll catch flies like that," Buffy advised him with an innocent smile.
"How can you … defend him!? How can you condone this brutality?" Xander demanded, horrified.
"Actually, the torture was quite rudimentary and hastily done," Anya contradicted her fiancé with a slight shrug. "On a ten-point scale of 'brutal', I'd give it a two and a half, maybe three. Certainly not up to William the Bloody's previously exceptional standards," she pointed out pragmatically.
At this, Spike scowled, his mouth set in a grim line. "Ta, ever so," he grumbled to the ex-demon.
Anya, of course, didn't notice, engrossed in her observations. "You do know how Spike got his name, don't you? Railroad spikes. Back in France, or maybe it was Belgium, I heard of one banker who—"
"Oi! Enough o' that, yeah?" Spike growled out through his swollen and bloodied lips, glaring daggers at her. He knew exactly the story she meant to tell, and that wasn't the kind of thing he wanted Buffy hearing, let alone the bit.
Anya looked up at him then, surprised, but shrugged and desisted in her recollections. She looked back down at Warren, who remained dazed on the floor, and concentrated on cataloging his injuries, instead.
"As for this accused, but not convicted, jewel thief: a couple of extracted fingernails, some sharpened bamboo under the toenails, and a few miscellaneous bruises and abrasions. Nothing Spike did left any permanent damage, no dislocated joints, severed limbs, or brain damage. He didn't even feed – no fang marks. Much more Hanoi Hilton than Spanish Inquisition," Anya concluded with a judicious nod of her head.
In low whispers, both Dawn and Spike spoke almost with one voice, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition." They both looked at each other, small, knowing smiles curving their lips.
Buffy caught this covert exchange and a bloom of warmth spread up through her heart. Spike had promised to protect Dawn, and he had – but he'd done much more. He'd become Dawn's friend, her big brother, her guardian angel, while Buffy was dead, and even afterwards. What Dawn had been through had not been easy, Buffy knew. Dawn was plagued with guilt and loneliness and desolation, and Spike had helped her cope with it all – in fact he was still helping her. Romcom movie nights were certainly proof of that. He didn't have to do that. He didn't have to do any of it. He hadn't had to help the Scoobies patrol, help keep Sunnydale safe in her absence, but he had. He could've left. He could've gone back to his evil ways, obviously he'd figured out how to fool the chip, but he hadn't run off. He'd stayed. He'd made Buffy a promise and he'd kept it to the best of his abilities.
Buffy was pulled from her contemplation by a rough cough and throat-clearing from the floor on the other side of the sarcophagus. "That's a lie," Warren wheezed out through broken teeth. "She's fucking Spi—"
Buffy, standing on the other side of the tomb, had just registered what Warren was about to reveal when the blackmailer's words were cut off by a crunching sound as Spike's fist connected with the fallen man's jaw.
They both screamed in pain, Warren and Spike. Spike clutched his head as the chip fired and Warren reached for his jaw where the blow had landed, loosening a few more teeth. Spike dropped down to his knees, writhing in pain next to Warren as the vamp waited for the chip to stop shooting electrical barbs of fire into his brain.
"That's it!" Xander exclaimed from his position next to Warren. "He needs to be staked! He's a menace! And if you won't do it, then I will!" he informed Buffy, stepping over Warren to get to Spike, raising the stake, preparing to strike.
"NO!" Buffy vaulted over the sarcophagus where the jewels were spread to block Xander's way, but she couldn't get there in time to completely stop him. Xander's stake-hand came down hard, aiming right for Spike's unbeating heart. Buffy kicked at Xander's arm as she sailed over the tomb, sending the downward trajectory off-target, and Xander drove the stake into Spike's shoulder instead.
Spike howled in renewed pain and clutched at his bleeding shoulder, scrabbling back away from the group to some relative safety a few feet away.
Buffy placed herself firmly between Xander and the fallen vamp. "I said, 'no'! There will be no staking!"
"Have you lost your mind, Buffy?" Xander demanded, standing toe to toe with the Slayer, stake, dripping blood, clutched tightly in his right hand. "He's a killer!"
"He's NOT!" Buffy defended.
At Xander's incredulous look, she wavered. "I mean … I know he has killed…"
"Which makes him a KILLER!" Xander pointed out, logically.
"No, not in the present-tense, past-tense only! He's changed!" Buffy argued.
"I think Warren would disagree with you on that, Buff," Xander chided sarcastically. "Spike hasn't changed, he'll never change! The chip forced him to play nice, and now he's figured out how to out-smart it!"
"That's not … this isn't what it looks like. None of this is what it looks like," Buffy argued, flinging her arms out in frustration.
Tara and Dawn had gone behind Buffy to try and help Spike again, Willow was checking on Warren, while Anya was dreamily fondling the jewels with unrestrained avarice gleaming in her eyes, completely ignoring everything else.
Xander and Buffy, however, were oblivious to any of that. They were focused wholly on each other; one intent on protecting the vampire who had protected her town, her friends and family, the other intent on destruction.
"No? Well, it seems pretty clear to me, Buff," Xander assured her coldly. He used the stake again to make his point, blood dripping, waving it between Warren and Spike. "These two were in cahoots together to steal gemstones. Spike obviously felt like he wasn't getting his fair share in the deal and decided to torture Warren to have him give them up. Which, apparently, worked," Xander concluded, pointing at the pile of sparkling stones.
Buffy shook her head and rolled her eyes, but before she could argue, Spike's voice, with a decidedly posh and aristocratic accent, came from behind her, "I say! Well done, Miss Marple. What are you doing just standing here when there are more mysteries waiting to be solved? Pip, pip, cheerio and all that rot!"
Buffy whirled around and hissed out, "You're not helping, Spike," before turning back to address Xander. "That's NOT what happened. I told you! Warren stole the gems and I needed Spike to help me find them—"
"Then why did Spike have them and not you?" Xander asked logically. "If Spike was helping YOU find them, then where were you?"
"I was … doing … something," Buffy began lamely.
Xander raised his brows at her, waiting.
"Slayer … stuff," she concluded, equally as lamely.
Xander's brows didn't go down.
"Buff, look, I know you've been through a lot," Xander began condescendingly, and Buffy snorted loudly, folding her arms over her chest. Xander pursed his lips a moment, then continued, "I think maybe it's affected your judgement. Spike is—"
"Spike is someone who helped protect this town when I was dead!" Buffy filled in helpfully. "He protected Dawn, he helped you all patrol!"
"Yeah, and a fine job he did! Did you see those demons tearing the town apart when you … when … just before …" Xander's voice trailed off.
"You mean when YOU GUYS brought me back from heaven? Yeah, as a matter of fact I did!" Buffy assured Xander, her voice cold as ice. "And I noticed that Spike was the one trying to protect Dawn, not YOU."
'And he protected me just now when he stopped Warren from spilling the beans, too, even though he knew the chip would fire,' Buffy added silently, chewing on her bottom lip.
"Buffy, I'm just not buying it. None of this tracks!" Xander insisted, throwing his hands out in frustration. "Maybe when Warren wakes up I can get a straight story out of him, because you, my FRIEND, are not giving it to me.
"And the only reason Spike has been undusty all this time is because of the chip. Well, he knows how to get around that now! Can't you see the danger? You would've had no trouble dusting him before, you can't stand there and say you would!"
Buffy looked around, feeling trapped and helpless – again. She was getting really tired of this feeling. She couldn't get Warren out of here and leave Spike alone with Xander – Spike would be dust before the crypt door closed behind her. And she couldn't take Spike away somewhere and leave Warren here with Xander and her friends either! It was clear he was ready to tell anyone who would listen what she had been doing behind closed doors … or, well … actually, just about anywhere, doors notwithstanding. They might not believe him, that was one consideration. He didn't have any proof, after all. She'd destroyed it all, but … what if they did?
"It's alright, Slayer," Spike groaned from behind her, stumbling to his feet, clutching a towel to his shoulder to staunch the bleeding. "No need t' protect me … I'm a big boy, I can take it. It's like the git says … Warren and me … thick as thieves, we were. Tried to screw me over. Bad idea, yeah? Woulda gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids.
Spike waited a beat. "What, not even a chuckle?" he asked incredulously when no one laughed at his hilarious joke. "Scoobies? Meddling kids? Get it? Funny, that was."
"It wasn't that funny," Buffy assured him, turning around to face him. "You don't have to…"
"Pffft!" Spike interrupted her with a shrug. "I'll just be on my way. I hear Rio's nice this time o' year."
"What?" Dawn exclaimed. "You can't leave! Spike! Please!"
Spike turned to the girl who he'd come to consider a little sis, if not a daughter, and gave her a small smile. "Time fer me to move on, little bit. You got your big sis back, you'll be fine, luv."
"Spike! Please…" Dawn cried, tears welling up and spilling from her eyes as she flung herself at him.
Spike caught her one-armed with a muffled 'whoof' of pain, and hugged her against himself tightly, dropping a gentle kiss atop her head. "You'll be alright," he assured her, or maybe he was assuring himself, before pressing her away and into Tara's arms.
Spike began to wobble and stumble toward the crypt door and Buffy felt her stomach lurch in a most peculiar way, like someone was turning somersaults and cartwheels in her guts.
"Best get that one to the coppers, luv," he whispered as he passed Buffy, nodding toward Warren, "'fore he wakes up and starts yammering again."
"But … Spike … you didn't do anything wrong," Buffy argued.
Spike nodded but kept walking. "Story of my life, pet."
Spike turned a cold gaze on Xander as he passed, challenging the boy to try and stop him.
Xander looked from Buffy to Spike and back again. "You're just gonna let him GO!?" he asked furiously. "How can you just let him go, Buff?! You know what he's capable of!"
Buffy looked from Spike to Xander, then to Warren, who was beginning to come around again, and then back at Spike. The vamp kept walking toward the door, his steps becoming stronger as he went, his strength returning in slow measures.
Buffy's head was spinning, Xander's words roiling and colliding within, bouncing around in her skull like rubber bullets.
You're just gonna let him GO!?
You know what he's capable of!
How can you just let him go, Buff?!
She DID know what he was capable of. She heard Dawn's anguished sobs behind her and everything that Spike had done for her flooded through Buffy's mind. Taking on Glory. Not revealing Dawn's identity to the Bitch-God, even when he'd been tortured to within an inch of his life. Fighting at Buffy's side to save Dawn, to save the world. Taking care of Dawn, and her friends, too.
And then Buffy's mind shifted, and she realized it wasn't just Dawn that he'd cared for, that he'd helped, that he'd been there for. It was her. He'd been there in the dark with her. He'd understood like no one else could. He'd never turned his back on her, even now, when she'd turned her back on him, he was trying to protect her.
He was the only one who could know what it felt like to be … dead. And then to be … not dead.
'He knew.'
The thought hit her like an ocean wave, washing over her and making her take a staggering step back to keep from falling. HE KNEW. HE FUCKING KNEW!
"Spike! Stop! Wait!" Buffy called out, pushing past Xander toward the retreating vampire.
Spike halted but didn't turn back. "I'm not worth it, luv, let me go," he advised when she reached him, his voice low and husky, full of repressed emotion.
Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her, their eyes locking as if drawn by magic.
"I'm not ready for you to not be here," she pleaded in a whisper only he could hear.
Spike tilted his head, his eyes already narrow slits behind the mask of bruising, studying her. "What does that mean?"
"I … just … I …" Buffy stammered, not sure what it meant, it was just what she felt.
"Got yer mates, yeah? Don't need a creature of the night sullying your good name, then, do ya?" he challenged, trying to sound angry but Buffy could hear the hurt behind the bravado.
"They don't understand," she admitted, shifting her gaze back over the waiting group before looking back at Spike.
"You know," she whispered in a voice so low enough that even Spike had a hard time hearing her. "You died … you were in heaven before you … came back. You know," Buffy insisted, not as a question but a statement of fact.
Spike's gaze dropped down to the grimy floor of the crypt, breaking the connection between them. He tried to shake his head 'no', to dissuade her, but couldn't get the message from his brain to his muscles. He felt like a bug skewered by a pin: caught, trapped, unable to move.
It was all the answer Buffy needed. He did know.
"You know," she repeated firmly.
"Was easier for me, yeah?" he finally admitted, still not looking at her. "Easier t' be evil, let the darkness take ya. Easier to forget the light and move on that way."
Spike looked up then, his intense blue eyes meeting hers. "Don't know how ya do it, Buffy. Never known anyone stronger than you, luv, no one who tries harder or cares more, but still don't know how you do it. How you … live in the light after ... that."
Tears flowed down Buffy's cheeks, but she wasn't even aware of them. She just stared at Spike in astonishment. He did know. He knew how hard it was for her to just live, he knew her struggle, her pain. He knew how harsh the world felt, how much she just wanted to lash out at everything and everyone. He knew the darkness that ate at her every minute of every day; he'd been living it for decades. He knew. He was someone who could actually understand everything she was feeling, everything she was fighting. No one else could possibly understand like he could.
"You," she said, finally. "You've given me the strength to live in the light."
Spike's head tilted in question, his cerulean eyes awash in confusion.
Buffy nodded slowly, her eyes locked on his. "You."
"Buffy! What the hell are you doing!? Are you gonna stake him or what?!" Xander demanded, losing patience and stepping up near the pair.
The spell had been broken between them, but Buffy could still feel it, feel the soul-deep connection. Spike knew.
The Slayer swiped the sleeve of her shirt across her face, sniffing away her tears, and took a deep breath, turning to face Xander. A thousand arguments about what she should do dashed through her mind in the space of a few moments. No matter how they began, they all came back to the realization that Spike had helped her when none of them could, and she was not ready to let him go. Now that she finally understood the connection, she wasn't going to let him walk out that door and possibly lose it forever. Her friends would just have to deal. They'd certainly dealt with worse.
"I choose door number two: 'Or what,'" Buffy finally replied confidently.
She turned back to Spike and touched a gentle kiss against his swollen and bloodied lips. Spike pulled back, momentarily stunned, but then, within the space of a heartbeat, he reached for her. The vampire pulled her body against his, his lips crashing against hers in desperate need of that connection, all pain forgotten.
Gasps and curses and even a couple of cheers went up from the gathered Scoobies, with an, "Oh, fuck," moaned out from the dazed Warren. But neither Buffy nor Spike paid any attention, lost in the sense of each other, the joy of a connection so deep to be unfathomable to anyone else.
When the kiss broke, Buffy leaned her forehead against Spike's, a smile curving her luscious lips. "I guess my Superglue dried out while I was gone."
Spike chuckled. "Thank God for shoddy workmanship."