A Serendipitous Beginning
by
Lisa Y. Drexel
Chapter Nine
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Life Goes On...
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Exhausted and emotionally spent, Willow stared numbly out of Oz's van car window and studied the front of her apartment building.
Her and Angel's apartment building.
She could feel the sob just itching to break her fragile control. Goddess, she really wanted to cry.
Just cry.
For so many things...Angel, Buffy, herself...for the parents she never knew (if she even had any), the parents that never loved her like she was their own child, the mortal life she was really, really hoping to have and most of all, because right at this moment, her life just sucked.
The van stopped and she heard Oz quietly clear his throat beside her. "Willow, we're here."
She just nodded as she wiped her face and opened the van door.
Oblivious to everything around her, she walked up to her apartment door and started to open it.
"How is she?" Vachon asked Spike as he watched the other vampire pour himself a glass of blood.
Spike looked up from his breakfast and met Vachon's eyes. "A lot better, mate. She revived about a half an hour ago, finished off the OJ and is now taking a long, hot bath," Spike said, grinning. After knocking down the first glass, he poured himself a second one. "Her moods have evened out, and she actually spoke two complete sentences to me before disappearing into the bathroom." Spike paused, closing his eyes as a small smile curled his lips. "Thank you," he added softly as he opened them to meet Vachon's eyes.
Vachon couldn't help but grin back at Spike. It had worked. Relief filled him and almost immediately, he felt the tension level in his body drop by nearly half. His nina was going to be just fine.
"Good," Vachon said. "So, did you talk to MacLeod or Richie before they left? What's the game plan?"
Snorting, Spike picked up a piece of paper that had been lying on the counter and walked over with it and his breakfast in hand. After sitting across from Vachon at the dinette table, he pushed the slip of paper across for Vachon to read.
"They left me a note," the blond vampire said. "I had a Do Not Disturb post-it note on the door," Spike added, smirking.
Vachon picked it up and quickly skimmed it. "So, what's the plan after they do all this?"
Spike shrugged, as he began staring at the table, running his finger around the base of his glass. "Wait, I guess. The funeral's in a couple of days. The wake, if Joyce and Buffy's father decide on one, will be tomorrow. We can't do anything until then, other than bunker down, mourn and prepare..."
"And the funeral? When's that going to be? Day or night?"
Spike leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. It depends on whether Joyce is speaking to me or not," Spike said softly as he lit a cigarette. "After this afternoon, I'm not sure..."
"Why?" Xander asked in the otherwise silent car. "Why...I mean, I know why, but couldn't he have waited just a few days until he got pelvic with her?"
"Xander," Cordelia warned as she glared at her husband.
"No, Cordy, I'm not going to be silent. I don't understand. Why?"
"Because he had to," Joyce said softly, her voice wavering. "For Mike."
"What do you mean? For Mike?" He glanced back at her and frowned. "I don't want to upset you, Joyce. But it just seemed so inappropriate—"
Xander could hear Buffy's mother sigh impatiently as she turned in her seat and leaned against the door before she answered him. "Xander, I understand why you're upset. I probably would've been too, if I hadn't talked to Buffy about this link myself..."
"And?" he asked impatiently all the while inwardly punching himself for being such a prick. He couldn't help it—it hurt him to think that Spike couldn't even wait until after the funeral before sleeping with Mike. Did Buffy mean that little to him that the vampire could betray her in that way?
Sighing, he glanced back in the rearview mirror and saw Joyce wiping her eyes. "Do you remember how upset Spike had been before Mike arrived?"
Xander nodded slowly, remembering the fear he felt when he saw the emptiness in Spike's eyes—the desolation—and he shuddered. "Yeah, he was a real mess."
"A real mess," Cordelia added softly. "I was actually afraid of him, and it's been a long time since I worried about my blood staying put around Spike. His eyes, they were so bleak—lost."
"And after Mike showed up?" Joyce asked as she glanced over at the Immortal sitting next to her. He met her eyes and nodded.
"I get it!" Xander said, nearly shouting. "She calmed him. But they didn't need to—"
"Xander?" MacLeod asked, interrupting his rant.
"Yeah?"
"How much do you know about this bloodlink?"
He sighed, turning on his right hand light signal. "That Mike's blood changed Spike. Gave him his soul. That when they 'open' the link—they can read each other's thoughts and feelings. Is there more?"
MacLeod nodded slowly. "Unfortunately, yes. Do you know why I came down here with Richie?"
"I assumed it was because of Morden...wasn't it?"
The Immortal took a deep breath and began to speak. As Xander listened to what had happened to Mike in Seacouver—over a thousand miles away from Spike—he could feel his anger ebb away. Although he and Buffy had discussed the changes the blond vampire had gone through—his metamorphosis so-to-speak—Xander realized now that he never did give the link as much consideration as he should have. It was just so disturbing to know that Buffy, whom he thought should be the princess to someone's prince, was never going to have that absolute intimacy with Spike that the vampire had been accustomed to. It wasn't right. It was almost as if she settled for Spike after realizing that Angel was no longer available. Out of everyone that Xander knew, he believed that the slayer deserved to be loved and cherished above all else. And although it appeared to Xander that she had been loved when she was with Spike, to know now that she wasn't revered like he believed she should've been, grated on him more than he liked to admit.
"And she—Buffy—accepted this?" he heard himself ask. "She wanted this?"
Joyce let out a soft laugh and squeezed his shoulder. "Xander, Spike loved and still loves my daughter—wherever she is. He always will. Buffy knew that. Mike knows that. And Buffy never resented Mike's influence, because she knew that if it weren't for Mike, Buffy would've never let Spike into her heart to begin with."
MacLeod cleared his throat and met Xander's eyes through the rearview mirror's reflection. "When Mike and Spike first split and thought they had closed down the link, they found out that that wasn't quite true. They were still feeding off each other's emotions—even though she was halfway across the country. And when she took her first head, she and Vachon were in Toronto—thousands of miles away from Sunnydale—their link was blown wide open. They couldn't turn that off. And finally, you have to remember with vampires, especially Souled-Ones, sire-childe bonds are depended upon to work through strong emotions and physical pain. Once Mike and Spike opened the link last night, Mike has basically taken in all of Spike's pain in order for him to keep it together."
"So, she's like his tranquilizer," Cordy said softly.
"Okay, I can understand that—I even understood that last night. But what does that have to do—"
"Because Xander, no matter how much Spike loves my daughter, he loves Mike as well. And if she was as messed up as Mr. MacLeod said she was this morning, then Spike had to do whatever he could to help her. Buffy knew that and accepted his feelings for Mike. And she even wanted Mike to be there for Spike when she died—just as my daughter was there for him after Mike left!" Her eyes glared at him through the rearview mirror. "Can you just drop it?"
Xander's mouth snapped closed as he physically flinched at Joyce's painful entreaty. Damn, why do I have to be such an asshole? he asked himself as he pulled into the hospital parking lot.
He stared at the building, flashing on over a dozen times that he and Buffy had visited this same morgue during the last decade of slaying business. And in all that time, he never really believed that he would go here to help identify his best friend's body.
He always thought it would be the other way around.
Willow was just slipping the key in the door when she felt it. Fear coiled in her gut as she stumbled backwards as her knees threatened to collapse: he was here.
Somewhere.
She could feel his lust and anger thrumming in her mind.
"Willow..." his chillingly cheerful voice called out.
She turned around, trying to pinpoint it, all the while waving Richie back towards the van. "Angel?" There was something else tickling her senses...almost as if it were another Immortal. Could it be? She asked herself. Or was it just her feeling Richie?
"Hello my little witch, looking so sad today..."
Something grabbed her hand, and she screamed before she realized it was her mentor. "Come on, Willow, back to the car—I feel an Immortal!" He said as he pulled her towards the van.
"Bye-bye my Little Tree..."
Richie pushed Willow inside and jumped in after her. The van was rolling before he could even close the door. "What the hell was that?" he yelled. "That was Angel, wasn't it? I recognized his voice!"
"Oh dear Lord, the bloody spell! How could we have been so stupid!" Giles groaned as he shook his head. "Can you tell if he's following us?"
Richie shook his head. "The only Immortal I feel is Willow."
"Willow?"
She shuddered uncontrollably as she felt Angelus' evil swirling in her mind. He was still close. "He may've ditched Morden, Richie. I still feel him."
"Oz, go directly to Spike's. And Amy, do you have your cellphone with you?"
Amy nodded as she pulled it out of her purse and tossed it over to the elder watcher. Giles quickly dialed Spike's phone number. "Hello...Spike? Giles here...is Mike awake yet? Good, can you have her move Buffy's car out of the garage and watch for us. We had a run-in with Angelus...no, Willow's fine....I agree...he is a pillock...unfortunately, the bloody pillock's following us too...yes, quite right....I know I forgot about it too...Good day." He closed the phone and handed it over the seat to Amy. "Oz, when we get to Spike's house, the garage door should be open. We can park in there." He reached for Willow's hand.
Willow looked up at her mentor and felt something inside of her break as a loud sob escaped her lips. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten about the daylight spell. Wasn't it just eight hours ago when she had been lying down on the cot in the living room listening to Spike slip outside to have a cigarette after the sun rose? Why did she totally space that out? "I forgot, Giles!"
As he tugged her over to him and held her to his chest, Willow cried into his jacket—taking comfort in the scent of the man who was more of her parent than the two people who attempted to raise her. "I know, Willow, I forgot too. He was counting on us to be too upset to remember."
"He wants to hurt me, Giles. I can feel it."
And she could feel it. It was like an insidious virus sweeping through her body—cloying at her self as it attempted to invade her soul with its blackness. Shuddering, she buried her head in his chest as she tried to get a hold of her rampant emotions.
"I just don't get it," Richie said softly as he squeezed her free hand. "I mean, why is he so determined to kill Willow? From what Spike said, drinking from Mike didn't change him that much."
Giles let out a harsh laugh as he patted Willow's head. "Spike downplays his change—for whatever reasons. The Spike that we met eight, nine years ago could have cared less whom he killed or why he did it. He was, at one time, considered one of the deadliest vampires to roam the Earth...leaving corpses and chaos behind him wherever he went." Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He tried wiping out humanity himself by putting together a demon whose sole purpose was to destroy man."
Willow felt herself being drawn into the conversation and sat up to wipe her face clean of tears. Something else to focus on—something other than Angelus and Angel. Inwardly flinching at even the thought of him, she took a deep breath and pushed the vampire who held her heart out of her mind. After she leaned back against the back of the seat, she turned to Richie, who was sitting on the other side of her. "Don't get Giles wrong. Spike has always been different from other vampires—he could always love. That in itself made him an anomaly among demons." She paused for a moment, and found herself smiling despite herself. Spike always was a contrary being—as a demon-vamp or as a Souled-One. "With Spike, it didn't occur to him until after the demon zapped one of his minions and was nearly sent to hell himself that Spike had a bit too much humanity in himself as well."
"Well yes, it was definitely short-sighted of him," Giles added. "Spike's change—his disgust of all things prophetic and mystical was most likely a result of being a victim of Angelus' unwanted attentions for all those months after Angel lost his soul."
"And being stuck in a wheelchair for five months," Amy added.
"And Dru leaving him," Oz said, adding his two-bits into the conversation.
"If he hadn't met Mike when he did, most likely he would've eventually gotten bored with St. Louis and the Souled-Ones and would've left—reverting back to his old ways."
"Spike's soul is what kept him from being the Spike we all feared. Nothing else," Willow added.
"So, to answer your question, yes. Angelus' fears are well founded. He knows he will be stymied just as Spike was if he allows himself to succumb to his bloodlust with Willow."
Willow watched as Richie groaned, rubbing his face tiredly. "I'm almost sorry I asked," he whispered.
She couldn't help but agree with him.
"Mike?" Spike called out as his knuckles rapped on the door.
"Come on in, Spike." She called out as she sunk into the water, feeling oddly shy even with Spike, even after their time together.
She watched as the door opened and he stuck his head in, grinning at her. "Giles called. He needs you to move Buffy's car out of the garage and keep the door open. They had a run-in with the prick. We forgot about the spell."
Mike felt a pang of regret, knowing that if she had been a little less emotional earlier, she would've remembered that little tidbit as well. "Is she okay?"
Spike walked into the room and kneeled down by the tub. His fingers reached over and caught a water drop as it began to roll down her face as he gave her a sad smile. "Yeah, physically. Emotionally, I don't know."
She leaned into his touch and sighed softly. "Thanks for what you did. It's funny, after all these years of going through this, I still don't know quite why it works. It's like being re-booted." She snorted, her eyes closing at the image of her as a computer. "I guess my operating system got overloaded."
Spike chuckled as he leaned over the edge of the tub and kissed her gently on the lips. "The analogies you come up with...mind boggling." He stood up and grabbed a towel. "Done with everything?" He asked, his eyes traveling lavishly over her body.
"If you mean, am I done cleaning up, yes? Anything else is up for discussion," she said as she stood up, her shyness forgotten under the need to get underneath Spike's skin.
He held out the towel and she backed into it, letting him wrap her wet body with his embrace. Once he fastened it, his arms tugged on her waist, pulling her back flush with his front. She could feel his smile as he nibbled on her neck, his lips sending little coils of need throughout her body.
After kissing her neck, he placed his chin on her shoulder. She could feel his chest rise once and the cool breeze of his breath touched her bare skin. If their link hadn't told him how aroused she suddenly was, she was sure he had just smelt it. "I'm an asshole, aren't I?"
Shaking her head, she pulled away from him enough to turn around. Once facing him, she kissed him soundly on the lips and grinned back at him. Yeah, but I love ya anyway, she whispered into his mind.
His smile disappeared as his dark eyes pierced hers and she felt the tendrils of his touch in her mind. And, no matter what—I'll always love you.
Somehow those words—said without the pain and angst of the night before or the intimacy of earlier that day—touched a part of her that had been hiding in wait since she had left him, six years before. It was almost as if, finally, everything fell into place with her life. She had been drifting aimlessly, hanging on to Vachon for fear that she would just disappear under the waves of need and want of what she couldn't have, if she let the Spaniard go.
Gods, it felt so good just be herself.
Smiling through her tears, she pulled out of his arms and left the bathroom, with Spike right behind her.
It was time to get back to living...something she almost forgot how to do.
to be continued...