Rating:PG-13
Feedback: Yes please!
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and never will. Technically, I don't even own Bill. sigh
A/N: Italics indicate Bill's thoughts. Or, sometimes, memories.
Chapter 14
"Um, we, um," appeared to be the only things that Buffy and Angel could manage to say as they sprang off of each other and off the table in one move. They were attempting to surreptitiously straighten their clothing and smooth out their hair while trying to come up with some sort of explanation for Bill, who was mostly just amused.
"We were, um, just, um, uh," Angel was desperately searching for something to explain away being found swapping saliva with his supposed ex-girlfriend on a table.
"Let me guess," Bill said, leaning against the wall and smirking. "She passed out and you were trying to give her CPR."
"I was gonna go with 'He was adjusting my tongue ring', but yours works too," Buffy commented.
"Do you have a tongue ring?"
"No. But you didn't know that."
Bill rolled his eyes and said, "Look, I don't care. I'm not dating either of you, nor do I remember ever doing so, and normally I would tell you to carry on," Buffy had the decency to blush. Angel just scowled, "but this is actually important." Bill stepped to the middle of the room and looked around at all of the weapons hanging on the walls and lying on various tables and fixtures.
"This is about me," the blonde man stated. "All the spells and fighting and secrecy is for me and because of me. So, after falling asleep and managing to escape Hamilton for a second time," Angel opened his mouth to say something, but Bill quickly interjected, "and shut up Angel. Keep your thoughts inside your big caveman head." The blonde felt a wave of satisfaction when Angel's hand instinctively shot up to his forehead. "Anywho, I got away from Hamilton and you know what? I'm starting to remember things. I built a sex robot of you, Buffy." Bill pointed to the Slayer to emphasize.
"WHAT?!" Angel exploded, looking like he was about to go for Bill's jugular. "YOU DID WHAT?!"
"Yeah, that was gross. And okay, congratulations for the memories, but you still don't remember the big secret of the Fell Brethren. We still don't know how to stop them." Buffy crossed her arms, unruffled by Angel's distress.
"No, I don't. But I know what's triggering my memories. Fighting. Fighting makes me remember things." Bill wasn't tired anymore. He felt energized, like he was finally back in control of his own life.
"What is a sex robot?!" Angel's really off-topic.
"Exactly what it sounds like," Bill snapped. "Added to that, you're about to try and storm the Maine division of Wolfram and Hart, if it even exists. And all of this, you planned. Not one decision you've made about me has ever had my input on it."
"That's because until about a week ago, you didn't even know that this existed," Buffy gestured to the Watcher's Council building and the entire supernatural world in general. "You don't understand."
"You could try and explain it to me," Bill argued, stepping closer to her. "You could've done that a thousand times. But no, you kidnapped me, knocked me out when I tried to leave, tied me to bed and did wacky spells on me, like I was a rabbit and you were a friggin' cosmetics company. Despite all that, you think I should trust you." At Buffy and Angel's exasperated looks, Bill rolled his eyes and added, "I understand that you're the good guys, okay? White hats, white horse, riding off into the sunset," he trailed off as he glanced at the spiky-headed vampire, "okay, maybe not the sunset, but that's not the point. You're the ones fighting the good fight. But I used to fight it too. Don't I at least deserve enough respect to be able to make my own choices."
"What exactly do you want us to do here Bill?" Angel asked, finally letting go of the sex robot thing.
"Oh that's easy," Bill replied, smiling. "I want you to fight me."
About a half hour later, Bill, Angel, and Buffy were standing in one of the training rooms. Angel had his shirt off, Bill was in gray sweats, and Buffy was in sweatpants and a sports bra. Angel was glaring daggers at Bill when he stared at her. Giles, Xander, Andrew, Illyria, Dawn were standing along one wall.
"So, what's the plan again?" Xander asked, hands in his pockets and chewing gum.
"Bill says his memory gets triggered by combat," Buffy explained. "We're going to try and fight him, to help him remember."
"Ah." Xander considered this for a moment. "Ten bucks and a free box of donuts says that he gets wiped out in the first fifteen seconds."
"Twenty dollars and two boxes says it's in the first ten," Giles responded.
"I say he lasts at least half a minute." Dawn apparently felt that she was defending Bill.
"Would the twenty bucks go to pay for the donuts or would that be something separate?" Andrew asked. Illyria, looking human again, was staring.
"We're not going to really fight him," Angel interjected. "Otherwise, we'd wipe him out in under three seconds."
"This is doing wonders for my self-esteem. Thank you all," Bill complained. He was nervous, now that his theory was going to be tested. He glanced around apprehensively at the people in the room, finally noticing one absence. "Where's Willow?"
"Still looking for the spot of dark mojo," Buffy responded. "Are we going to do this?" Bill nodded. Buffy and Angel dropped into fighting positions. The blonde man took a deep breath and waited for the normal rush of knowledge and strength that normally filled him in survival situations. It didn't. He stood there feeling very dumb.
"Anything?" Angel asked, crossing his arms. The vampire looked smug. Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"Give me a second," Bill muttered. He could feel his face begin to redden.
"Does the bet still count if nothing happens at all?" Dawn wondered.
"Something will happen!" Bill snapped. He rolled his shoulders and tried to make himself remember. I distracted Hamilton and incapacitated Xander, so why can't I do it now? "Okay, maybe you should attack me and then I'll react or something." Which was why, about two seconds later, Bill was on his back, clutching his cheek and groaning.
"Well, I like it so far," Xander commented from somewhere above.
"You shut it!" Bill grunted. He climbed to his feet with a grunt and rubbed his cheek. "Okay, we're gonna try that again." Bill took a deep breath and dove suddenly at Angel. In the off chance that he got a hit in, he didn't want Buffy to be the one who took it. Angel shuffled backwards and swung at him. Bill ducked and aimed a kick at the vampire's ribs. As his leg was swinging forward, he remembered a cold night, an angry mob, and something about a mineshaft.
Buffy came from behind and kicked at the back of his knees, causing Bill to go down hard. He rolled, which was odd because he'd never voluntarily done a roll in his life. He came up in a crouch and twirled, stretching his leg out in order to sweep the blonde Slayer off of her feet. "Aren't you tired of fights you know you're gonna win?"
It was happening, just like it was supposed to, and Bill felt quite smug about that. The memories were leaking out from behind their protective little brain veil, sliding into his consciousness. He knew these moves, could do them with his eyes closed. He knew these people, from the Watcher to the Little Bit. The Poofter and the Slayer, the Whelp and the Witch. Big Blue. Charley-boy and Percy weren't around anymore. Neither was Green Jeans. The words and identities flowed through him and he felt like he was finally starting to get a hold of it all.
The memories were so damn slippery though. It felt like some kind of light bulb in his head was blinking on and off, illuminating things just enough for him to begin to see, then quickly leaving him in the dark. He was gaining more memories this way, but he was not going to get them all back. The Powers That Be wouldn't allow it to happen, at least not without magick.
Finally, Bill tumbled to the ground and did not feel any particular need to rise. He was panting and covered in sweat. Angel's nostrils were flaring slightly and Buffy's breathing was heavier. They were going easy on me, Bill was forced to admit to himself. Still, the looks of awe in the eyes of the bystanders made him feel a warm glow of righteous satisfaction.
"So, did it work?" Dawn asked, her looks reminding him of a puppy dog gazing at its owner.
"I'm remembering more and more," Bill had to pause and take a few deep breaths, "but it all keeps slipping away, y'know? Like I can't get a good grip on anything. Hey, Angel, who's Darla and why does she seem synonymous with 'whore' in my mind?"
It was probably a good thing that Willow's excited shriek filled the room before Angel could answer. "I found it, I found the place!" The redhead seemed ecstatic. "It's only about an hour away from here. It's pretty much just a one story building, so finding all the magickal things shouldn't be too hard."
"Okay everyone, gear up," Buffy ordered. "We're going to do this tonight, before they know that we're coming."
"Buffy, if Hamilton somehow hacked into Bill's head or something, than they might be waiting for us," Angel pointed out.
"Then let's not disappoint them. Dawn, you're staying." The teenaged girl opened her mouth to argue, but Giles cut her off by saying, "Your sister is right Dawn. This is too dangerous for you."
"What am I supposed to do, sit here and play Yahtzee?"
"Order Pay-Per-View or something," was Buffy's parting response. Things moved quickly then. Buffy, Angel, and Bill changed into normal clothes. Some Slayers and Council operatives were assembled and briefed while Bill sat in the background and tried to focus on his mind. It was intensely frustrating now. He could almost feel the memories and wanted to reach into his brain and tear away the cover on the past. The small army of people went to gather various guns and medieval looking weaponry. Bill somehow found himself in the same weapon's room that Buffy and Angel had been kissing in. Even better, they were there with him, alone. He smirked.
"Don't say words, Spike, please," Buffy ground out from between clenched teeth, not even noticing that she'd called him Spike.
"Well are you two dating or what?" Bill didn't particularly care, one way or another, but he did get a strange sort of pleasure out of watching Angel and Buffy (The Ponce and Slutty) squirm.
"We're," Angel trailed off and sighed. "We're not sure."
"I guess we just…got caught up in the moment," Buffy sighed, picking an axe up off the wall and twirling it around in her hands.
Angel muttered something that sounded like, "If you'd just finish baking-"
Buffy said, quickly, tersely, "Don't start, Angel." Bill then felt somewhat guilty about bringing up what was obviously a delicate situation.
About ten minutes later, Bill found himself standing in the lobby with enough gun-wielding people to make The Matrix look tame. "Everybody ready?" Giles asked, glancing out over the small sea of heads. Bill suddenly remembered something that should not be forgotten and cried out for them to hold on. He ran to his room to retrieve the precious item, and slipped the duster over his arms as he walked back into the lobby. "Okay, I'm good."
The Scooby Gang and Angel for one small moment, all had identical expressions of quiet shock on their faces. Even Illyria looked slightly interested. Bill looked down at himself. He was dressed in the duster, black jeans, and a black T-shirt. Clearly, this had some meaning to them. They shook of their blast from the past fairly quickly, and as the group was heading out the door, Xander muttered to Bill, "Try not to get killed, Blondie. Every time you get resurrected, it makes things to complicated."
Bill figured this was as close as Xander would come to offering good luck, and responded in kind. "Thanks, whelp. Try not to lose the other eye. You'd end up like that guy off Star Trek."