Part 2
The vampire had long since returned to Sunnydale, very much unaware of the little whisperings about the spunky, blonde Slayer that filled his head in the wee hours of the day, and therefore oblivious to his real motive for coming back.
Today felt like any other to him. Just out for a walk, casing the town as he did every so often. He was just about to turn left toward town and grab a snack…but then something made him change his mind and climb to the top of a hill.
Meanwhile, a small group of Initiative boys stalked through the woods, hunting for the evils that tended to gather there. "Flank South, men." Their leader had made a decision. He didn't know exactly what made him turn that direction, it had just been a feeling…a little voice that spoke to him.
Spike stood on the hilltop, engrossed in and completely distracted by watching Buffy from afar. "Watch your mouth little girl! You should know better than to tempt the fates that way, because the 'big bad' is back, and this time it's—Aargh!" The next thing he knew, he was in a cage, living the neutered vampire life.
I decide to keep my distance until he trusts me somewhat. So, I circle around within his peripheral line of vision and wait.
Silence.
More silence. I wish he would say something to me. We have to get on with this before he's dust. I start to gnaw on my fingernails. These moments always have this effect on me.
Suddenly, he rises and turns toward me. "Okay. What is it you bloody want? And who the hell are you anyhow?" He takes a puff off his cigarette and blows the smoke in my direction. I never could convince him to quit that ugly habit. That and the damn drinking.
Just the sound of his voice directed at me makes shivers go up and down my spine. His voice is so deep and penetrating, vibrating through my soul… Ahem. Never mind the fuzzy feelings. I have to focus here. Mission, remember? Destiny to fulfill and all that rot.
"Like I said, I'm Danielle. I'm trying to help you here."
Spike's head lashes back as he laughs heartily. "That's a good one, girl! You help me! The only help you could give me is a wooden stake." He resumes his position on the edge of the rock. Well, at least he didn't hit me that time. "You don't happen to have one stashed away in that cute little fleece number of yours, do you?" He looks at me sideways.
"Um, no, William, that's not the kind of help you need."
Now, he's looking at me full-on…curiosity piqued.
"I think this is enough of the 'What's My Line' routine. Suppose you just tell me who you are and what you want so we can all go about our respective businesses, shall we?" I finally have his attention. Yay for me.
"Well, you see…I'm…we're…you're…" This isn't going right. Maybe I should have done some of those goofy voice/mouth exercises actors do before a performance. Spike is sitting there motionless. Once again, that's better than being smacked around I guess. "You're going about this all wrong." 'Was that directed toward my charge, or myself?' I wonder. "You see, you were finally starting to get somewhere, and now you're just going to throw it all away, and why? Because it's too hard?"
"Look, you cow. Cut out the psychotherapy crap and either tell me who you are or, like I said already, sod off!"
I certainly can't come out and tell him who I really am. I mean, who would believe such a fantastic story? He would immediately take me for a liar and then where would I be?
I put on my best mothering voice. "You were so on the right track, William. Just because Buffy can't see the changes in you yet doesn't mean they aren't there. And it most definitely doesn't mean that she won't see them eventually." Just as I expected, he's staring at me with his eyes all squinty; like he's trying to figure out for himself what I'm up to. "And as for the Slayer's friends, they are just reacting to their initial shock of Buffy's account of the 'Valentine's Day debacle'. They'll come around once they see…really see you. Don't get discouraged, William."
Uh-oh. Now he's standing and slinking toward me in that predatory way of his. "How do you know all of this and why are you calling me by that name?" If I didn't know any better, I'd take his actions for anger. But I do, so I don't. He's just feeling me out. Trying to sniff out my motives. The best thing to do is stand fast.
"Just call me your guardian angel." But as soon as the words comes out of my mouth, I wish I can suck them back in. Perhaps bringing up the word 'Angel' is not the best way to gain his confidence. Please don't let him notice.
He tilts his head to the side.
"How are you going to kill her? Think. The second you even point that thing at her you're gonna be all...'Aaah!' and then you'll get bitch-slapped up and down Main Street unless she's had enough and just stakes you."
"This is different. Move."
"No! And then you'll come back to me and stomp around and swear a bunch of weird English curses."
"Yeah, it'll hurt like hell for about two hours. And she'll be dead just a little longer than that."
As he emerged through the bushes, Spike saw the Slayer sitting on her back porch. It couldn't have been more perfect. Her head was lowered and she did not seem to notice his presence at all. He towered before her, shotgun in hand, ready to rid the world of this whiny little girl and all of his problems to date.
"What is it now?" Buffy looked up at him with an obviously tear stained face.
Suddenly, his mission, his purpose for coming here melted away. Somewhere inside him, a little voice tugged at his heart, making him want to comfort the Slayer rather than dispose of her. He threw the shotgun out of sight. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Is there something I can do?" Almost involuntarily, his arm reached out to her and he held her loosely. Never before had he felt this way. He had comforted Dru many times, but never with this feeling before. Spike noticed the lump in his throat and swore he felt his heart pounding.
We stand face to face for what seems like 30 minutes. I know exactly what he is thinking. Unfortunately, I can't tell him what to think from over here, and with him being able to see me and all. "I've seen you through it all. Ever since you first met Drusilla."
"Well, if you're my bloody guardian angel," (Oh, thank goodness I didn't put him off with that remark,) "then why has my life been so soddin' shitty?!" He's moving closer now. "Why all the torment for poor ol' Spikey, eh?" I'm not liking this. "First Angelus leaves us, and Dru pines for him day after day. Then we meet up with him in Sunnyhell and he and the Slayer beat us into the ground. Then Angelus comes back and bloody steals my love from right under my nose. We finally get rid of the wanker when he gets sent to Hell, only I lose Dru anyhow for my troubles. Then, of course, I get this damned chip in me Gulliver so I can't even be a proper vamp any more. I spend my days eatin' vermin or bloody pig's blood, and findin' me'self the butt of everyone's joke. Oh, and let's not forget that the one woman I love more than my own sad sorry excuse for a life is not only my natural enemy, but hates the bloody ground I walk on. Sorry if I can't take you friggin' seriously bitch!" He stops about an inch from my face. If it weren't for the hot flashes coursing through my body, I'd be stone cold under his undaunting stare. This must be how his prey feels…pinned down and helpless under the gaze of a beast. But I reiterate, I know this man. I know him as well as I know myself.
My next words ooze out from my mouth like sap from a maple tree. "Spike. Did you ever stop to think why your life has taken the turns that it has? That-that perhaps there is a greater purpose behind it all?"
He steps back out of my personal space. "What kind of greater purpose? Turn Spike in to everybody's butt monkey?!" Another cigarette is pulled from his jacket.
I give him a parental stare. "No. You're nobody's 'butt monkey'. And haven't I told you a million times to stop smoking?!" Oops. That shouldn't have slipped out. Force of habit. I would blush if I were still alive.
But wait. I can see the gears in his head start to turn. I must have stirred something up with that nagging smoking comment. Yes…yes…you are starting to see it. Keep going my William. You know you've heard that before. COME ON!!
He reaches into his jacket, grabbing something from the left pocket. What the hell is he doing?
"Care to join me?" He is holding out a flask to me with a suspicious expression on his face. It's not quite a grin, but more of a challenging look.
"No thanks, I don't care to pickle my liver."
"AHA!!" His loud voice startles me and I jump back, brown eyes wide as saucers. "It's YOU! You're the one always harassing me about things. I knew I wasn't a trotter! It was you all along. Ha!" He spins around, doing a sort of happy dance. I think I like Xander's Snoopy dance better…but that's neither here nor there.
"You better think twice, luv." His dancing slows as I speak.
"Most of that 'conscience' you got in there is yours and yours alone, my friend. I've just been around to make sure that it doesn't get ignored." His face falls a bit. "There's good in you, William. I can feel it." (All of a sudden I'm sounding like a Star Wars movie.) "I've been with you for over a century. I should know."
He's dumb struck…unable to verbalize as he has no idea
what to think. "Come on Billy. Let's go have a long talk."
I take him by the arm and easily lead him away from his impending doom
and into his crypt.