Disclaimer: The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.
Rated NC-17. Just in case.
Author's Note: The mild Angel-bashing warning is in force still...in fact, it'll probably be in force for the rest of the fic. I'll try and be as nice as I can. Without breaking character of course! I cannot say when the next update will arrive, so enjoy this one!
Si Primo Venit
Concerning Invitations
'Hello salty goodness.' Cordelia whistled and Xander threw her a dirty look. He watched as Willow approached with Spike in tow, his eyes narrowing at the vampire. Spike eyed him back.
'Male posturing. Must be you're Xander.' Spike grinned. ''M Spike.'
'So I've heard.' The boy groused, his eyes remaining narrowed at the vamp. 'Like Angel, yeah?'
Spike growled and the whelp jumped. 'I am nothing like that poof.'
'Good to hear.' Cordelia interjected, allowing her eyes to roam over the blond appreciatively. 'I'm Cordelia Chase.' Spike looked her over, then dismissed her with an arched eyebrow. His gaze returned to Willow as Cordelia perfected her impression of a fish.
'So Red, it's your show.' She smiled and they made their way downtown to Ted's apartment. Willow had pilfered the address from the internet, and the records showed he owned an underground bunker, similar to the ones they built in the 50's. Almost immediately after breaking the door lock and entering the apartment, Spike gagged loudly.
Willow span round. 'What?' She asked, steeling herself for whatever Spike had discovered.
'The decor in here is awful.' The vampire spat, a look of utter disgust on his face. Cordelia laughed and Xander managed to raise a smile. 'Can tell you now that this place is not lived in.' Spike looked around. 'There's no scent.'
'Maybe he's just a clean freak?' Xander suggested but Spike shook his head.
'No. There'd be a smell. Any smell. This place smells like...new car.' Xander made an "o" face and started poking around, as did the others.
'The files said that he'd been married four times since '57. But he sure doesn't look over forty.' Willow commented, fingering through a filing cabinet. Cordelia shrugged and opened a closet door, shutting it again quickly. She turned to the others, a sickly shade coming over her face.
'Yeah...those wives?' She motioned to the closet. 'Found them.'
By the time he'd sprinted from the basement containing Ted's dead wives to Revello Drive, Buffy and her mom were sat on the porch. He had skidded to a halt. 'Ted!' He gulped and Buffy had looked at him in exasperation. 'He's a robot.'
'Yeah, we know.' The Slayer sighed. 'He's permanently offline.'
'Oh.' Spike relaxed, feeling a bit useless as he stood in the Summers' yard. Buffy sighed again, motioning to the porch as her mom looked up to see who was there.
'Want to join us?' The Slayer offered, missing the frown on her mother's face as she gazed at Spike. The vampire took a step forward, his eyes landing on Joyce Summers and he returned the frown. The phone rang, distracting the Slayer, and she rolled her eyes. 'I'll get it.' She disappeared into the house, missing the vampire and her mother having a stare down on the porch.
'Joyce?'
Mrs Summers blinked. 'You...the guy from New York?' She shook her head lightly. 'How are you here?' Buffy reemerged from the house, still oblivious to the situation unfolding outside.
'That was Willow. Guess what? Ted is a...' she caught the stares between her mom and the vampire and her witty retort faltered. '...robot. What's going on?' Joyce frowned, turning her head towards Buffy but not taking her eyes from Spike, as if he might disappear if she looked away.
'You look the same. It's been twenty years. How?' He shuffled under her gaze and shrugged.
'How do you know Spike?' Buffy asked, her face incredulous and horrified at the same time.
'So that's your name.' Joyce mumbled. 'You're exactly the same. I don't understand.' She looked to her daughter. 'This man saved me. I was still in high school and snuck out to a club.' Buffy's face was locked in an expression of shock, but Joyce didn't stop. 'Some guy, he, well, I don't really remember it, but,' she looked at Spike in wonder, 'I remember you. How have you not changed? And how do you know my daughter?'
Spike looked to Buffy, who now looked panicked. He then realised that Joyce had no idea who her daughter really was. The Slayer sighed, pinching her nose as she focused on her mom. 'He's a vampire.' Joyce frowned.
'Not this again, Buffy. I thought we'd moved past this.'
Buffy sighed again. 'I'm not crazy, Mom. Spike is a vampire.' She looked at the bleached blond. 'Show her.' Spike blinked at the request, then shrugged and revealed his true face.
'Oh!' Joyce exclaimed. 'Oh, that's...so that man in the club...he was...I would have...oh!' She fainted. Buffy rushed forward and caught her before her head hit the table. Spike shook away his demon features and moved to help, only to be stopped by a hand from the Slayer.
'Don't.' She checked her mom over.
'I'm sorry. I didn't know.' He started, but Buffy refused to look at him.
'It's okay. You should go.' He nodded but didn't move just yet.
'I'm sorry.' He repeated. 'Slayer, I-'
'It's Buffy.' She scowled at him and he nodded again, turning and leaving her to get her mother inside.
A knock at his new apartment door had Spike growling, irritated by the intrusion. He'd been reading, attempting to distract himself from everything and the interruption was no welcomed. He flung the door open, surprised to see Angel stood on the other side.
'What do you want?' He ground out, almost snarling at the other vampire.
'May I come in?' The brunette asked, and Spike hesitated.
'I guess.' He sighed, shrugging and standing aside to let Angel in. The bigger vampire entered the apartment, nothing the sparsely furnished living room and the heavy curtains over the windows. There was no couch, merely a desk in the corner and a bookshelf with a few books. Spike shut the door and folded his arms, watching his former compatriot with interest. 'So. How'd you find me?'
'Willy. Not much the little weasel doesn't know.' Angel shrugged, facing Spike. 'You okay?'
'Fine.' Spike eyed him carefully. 'But you didn't come here for that.'
'Giles wants to meet you.' The other vampire had no trouble spitting out the request.
Spike narrowed his eyes. 'Why?'
'He's a Watcher. He's curious.'
'I don't like Watchers, mate. You know this.'
'He knows that, too.' Angel eyed the older vamp. 'You never said why. Beyond what you did to that one in London...' Spike cut him off.
'It's none of your business, that's why.' Angel sighed.
'Look I've done the interrogation. He's curious about us because we're souled. You're older. He just has a few questions.' He looked the elder in the eye. 'It was recorded that you died after Romania.' Spike flinched. Angel continued. 'Hell, I thought you were dead until they dumped you in that cell with me. I - I wondered what happened to you.' The sadness of his tone did not go unnoticed by Spike, who regarded him quietly. 'I went back to Darla. You were right by the way.'
'Thought so.' Spike grumbled.
'I tried to find you. After Darla kicked me out. Searched for years. Thought we could help each other but...you...you were gone.' He sounded a little lost and Spike suddenly felt guilty for abandoning the younger vamp. He looked at the vampire, his anger dissipating and he sighed.
'I couldn't cope. Seeing you and everything you'd done.' Spike admitted. 'I could have stopped it at the start. I know it sounds stupid...'
'No it doesn't.' Angel interrupted. 'I...' he paused, worried of the reaction to what he was going to confess. '...I staked Drusilla for the same reason.' Spike's expression didn't change. He'd cared for Drusilla but it was somewhat of a relief that she wasn't running around out there. 'You were right...about Lawson.' Spike flinched then, moving away. 'Spike, just meet with Giles. He's not a bad man.'
'I don't like Watchers.' The blond repeated gruffly. Angel nodded.
'I know. But Giles is okay. He's not like other Watchers. Aside from being British and drinking tea.'
Spike didn't reply. He turned away, contemplating Angel's request for a few moments, wondering what exactly the Watcher wanted to know. He surmised that it probably couldn't do any harm, provided the Watcher kept his gob shut to anyone else about it. He turned back to Angel.
'Fine. Five. Tomorrow.'
Angel frowned. 'Five. But sunset isn't until...' Spike leveled him with a glare. 'Okay. I'll tell him.'
'Make sure he knows - I don't. Like. Watchers.'
When he entered the school library the next night, he was not happy to find the Slayer there. 'Oh no. I am notdoing this with her here.' Buffy wrinkled her nose at him, ignoring her Watcher as he emerged from the office to find the Slayer and Vampire glaring at each other.
'You said you don't like Watchers. How do I know you're not going to have yourself a Giles buffet?'
Spike grimaced. 'Either she goes or I do.' Giles looked between the two.
'Buffy-'
'What?' She exclaimed, staring at her Watcher with her mouth open. 'Giles, no!' The librarian pinched the bridge of his nose. 'You cannot be serious!'
'I'm not going to hurt him, Slayer.' Spike growled, and she gave him a look that would freeze lava.
'It's Buffy. Buff-eeee. Can you not get that through your thick skull?'
'Buffy, go and patrol. I will be fine.' She made to argue, then shut her mouth and scowled, marching up to Spike, toe to toe with the vampire. She was so close he could smell the vanilla scent of the soap she used, and those fire-filled hazel eyes turned on him with a promise of death.
'Touch him and wake up on fire.' She hissed, before striding from the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Spike watched her leave with wide eyes, before turning to Giles with a smirk on his face.
'Spirited, ain't she?'
'Hmmm. She is.' Giles motioned to his office. 'Thank you for coming, Spike. Can I offer you a tea?'
'Got any whiskey?' The Watcher smiled, leading the way into the small side room. The vampire followed after.
'I've got some Glenfiddich stashed away.'
Spike grinned. 'Perfect.' He took a seat in the office as Giles pulled two glasses and a green bottle from the cupboard hidden under the desk. He poured two fingers of the golden liquid into each glass and passed one to Spike. 'Angel said you were curious about me. About what exactly?' Spike asked, sipping the whiskey and savouring the burn.
'It's not often one has the chance to converse with a notorious vampire. Let alone one with soul. And certainly not two. Angel tells me you are older than him?'
'Yeah. I'm three hundred and...odd. Don't really keep track beyond the centuries.'
'No. I suppose it is a long time.' Giles mused, pulling a notebook from the desk drawer. He took the seat opposite the blond vampire. 'Angel says you are not fond of giving intimate details.'
'Depends on what you mean by intimate, mate.' Spike sipped at the whiskey again, smirking as the Watcher blushed.
'Yes well, er, let's start with the basics. You were turned in 1680 yes?'
'Correct.' Spike nodded, wondering himself how much to tell the Watcher. He knew this would all end up in a diary eventually, but he doubted anyone beyond a stuffy tweed wearing Brit would read it. Maybe it was safe to...divulge a little. Let the Watcher know he could be trusted. Rupert Giles didn't seem like the typical stiff upper types he'd met and/or tortured in the past.
'And you were cursed in 1898? The record keeping becomes sketchy after this. Where did you go?'
Spike pursed his lips. 'Scotland. Was there for ten years, give or take.'
'What did you do there?' Giles was scribbling furiously now.
'Went crazy mostly.' Spike sat forward. 'I was a two hundred year old monster with the blood of thousands on my hands, suddenly feeling guilty for every dirty little thing I'd ever done. Wasn't exactly a picnic now.' He sat back again, swirling the whiskey around the glass. 'But Angel's already told you this.'
Giles paled a little. 'Er, yes. Not in those exact words. I can imagine it was...tough.'
'You can't imagine anything.' Spike said lowly, finishing the whiskey. Giles handed him the bottle and Spike grinned, liking him better already.
'Yes. Quite.' The librarian cleared his throat. 'Where did you go after Scotland?'
'Spent sixty years in the Big Apple.'
Giles frowned. 'Sixty years?'
'Yeah.'
The Watcher was bemused by this information. Vampires rarely stayed anywhere for a long time, and sixty years was a long time. 'What did you do there?'
The vampire shrugged. 'Killed demons. Saved the helpless. Drank a lot. Bit of poker here and there.'
'This is where you rescued Joyce?' Giles queried and Spike chuckled.
Ah. Slayer told you about that did she?'
Giles pulled his glasses off, and proceeded to clean them. 'No, er, Joyce, Mrs Summers - she called me regarding Buffy. She wanted to know about her calling, and she mentioned you. Seeing you was the, er, catalyst for letting the metaphorical cat out of the bag yes?'
Spike nodded, a little guilt on his part for that. 'I didn't know she...didn't know. But yeah. Small world and all that.'
'More than you think. There was Slayer in New York in 1977. Reported to her Watcher, Bernard Crowley, that she'd heard about a vampire, saving innocents and fighting his own kind. She met you. Her name was Nikki. Shortly after you had met, it was recorded that there was rise in demon activity in the city.' Giles looked at his guest. 'The reported heroics stopped.'
'I'm not a hero.' Spike mumbled into his glass. 'Just a vamp trying to clean off the blood.'
'That in itself is admirable. But why did you even start fighting evil? And why leave after meeting Nikki?'
Spike glowered. 'Figured it was better than wallowing in misery.' He paused. 'And I don't mix with Slayers.'
'Shocking since you've killed so many.' Giles commented bluntly and Spike growled. The librarian backtracked. 'My apologies. That was...not tactful.'
'No it wasn't.'
'But if you don't like associating with Slayers, why are you here now?' Giles frowned. 'You have to admit it is a tad contradictory.'
'Got no choice. Mission's a mission.'
'Buffy is your mission?' Giles asked, concerned.
'Sorta. Got told the Slayer is special. So I was sent to help. Angel ain't cutting it, way I'm told.'
'How so?' Giles had returned to his notes, and Spike watched the pen move as he spoke, mesmerised by the action.
'She was killed.' Spike pointed out.
'Ah. Yes.' Giles voice was sorrowful and he thought for a second, the pen stilling on the paper. 'Do you mind...why don't you like Watchers? I've read of what you did to Thomas Wyndham. His diaries were not intact, so we never discovered the reasons, or the whereabouts of Catherine Callan. You were...responsible, yes?' Giles waited. When he asked Angel about his past, he had spoken of himself as a separate entity. He was curious to see how Spike referred to the time before his soul.
'Yes I was.' Spike's voice was choked and tight, but did not imitate Angel in claiming a different name. Giles was torn between taking notes and watching the emotions on the vampire's face.
'We never knew what happened to Catherine. Except that you were there and assumed the blame.' Giles pressed. 'Could you tell me?'
Spike was quiet for a few moments, sipping at the strong liquor. 'I never wanted to see her dead.' He muttered and Giles barely caught the admission. When he did, his eyes went wide.
'But...you were soulless.'
'I was still a person.' Spike reasoned. 'It's not always black and white. She saw that. Her Watcher,' he spat the title, 'did not.'
'Thomas Wyndham is the reason you do not like Watchers.' Giles surmised.
'He put a bolt in her chest. It was meant for me.' Spike snarled. Shut up. Stop talking. It's been too long. 'I tried...I tried to save her but...'
'You turned her.' Giles stated, no emotion in his voice, and too much on the vampire's face. Spike nodded, his jaw clenching around the pain in his chest.
'She wasn't the same. Not like I was. I was still me...I had to...' he stopped talking and the glass in his hand cracked and smashed under the duress of his fist. Glass embedded in his flesh and tinkled to the floor, followed by drops of crimson on the tiled floor. Spike welcomed the pain. Blood dripped down his skin as he breathed deep. Giles handed him a handkerchief.
'I'm sorry. I did not mean to bring up painful memories.'
Spike took the hanky and pulled the glass from his hand, shaking his head. 'I never spoke to anyone about it. Not even Darla. A soulless vampire in love with a Slayer. It was wrong. Cath knew it. I knew it. We didn't care. But then she...she...and I went beserk. I shut down. Stopped caring.' He looked at Giles. 'I don't mix with Slayers. I can't get anyone else hurt because I care about them.' Giles was taken aback by the statement, by the depth of emotion in the vampire's stormy blue eyes. So much so that when someone called his name, he jumped.
'Giles?!' Willow entered the office and gasped, her eyes going straight to the injured vampire's hand. 'Oh! Are you alright?' She moved over, looking at the injury. Spike made to pull away but Willow scowled. 'Don't be a baby. Giles, do you have a first aid kit?'
'I'm a vampire, Red. Don't fret.' He hissed as she pulled a chunk of glass free.
'Shut up. I got told you're helping is. Well help goes both ways, buddy.'
Giles passed her the first aid kit. The vampire stayed still, patiently watching her dress the wounds. It would be healed by morning, but he wouldn't say anything. When she'd finished, he mumbled his thanks and looked to the Watcher.
'Interviews over.' He paused. 'For now.' Giles nodded, not willing to argue but pleased he'd made some headway in figuring out what made the blond vampire tick. He had plenty to theorise on for the evening.
The vampire disappeared from sight and Willow looked to Giles with curiosity.
'Was he crying?'
To Be Continued...
I know this was a pretty action light chapter. I just felt like Spike needs to do some bonding. And this was a stepping stone to some much more serious angst next chapter. Things may be happening that would not seem like a good idea soon, but please, it's all relevant to the story line, so bear with me.
