Warning: Spoilery for Season 5, through "Forever."
Author's note: Just wanted to apologize for the long delay between chapters. Life has been hectic in some not-so-good ways for the past couple of weeks. But thanks for all the wonderful feedback--it's a big part of what keeps me going with this monster!
Disclaimer: All characters herein are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy--even Spike (darn his sinister attraction) isn't mine. I'm just borrowing.
DEAD RINGER
Chapter 6
COLD PURSUIT
Buffy stepped off the train, blinking against the glare of the L.A. morning. She was tired, thirsty, and sniffly. Her throat felt scratchy.
*Great. Apocalypse looming; vampire at large; ex-boyfriend around the corner, and now...a cold. Yay. Just...yay.*
She'd hated leaving Sunnydale for about a million reasons, though it was certainly necessary. She hadn't stopped worrying about Dawn for more than a couple of minutes-and those minutes were occupied with thoughts of...Spike. Dammit. Thoughts of how she'd find him...and kill him.
*This is *so* nuts. Why, why, why? If only he hadn't gotten chipped. If only he hadn't "fallen in love" with me. If only I hadn't had that dream. If only he were in Sunnydale right now, he could be looking out for Dawn... Huh?? If *he* were back home, I wouldn't be *here*--I'd be there, killing him, because I'm afraid he's going to get *me* killed. Or Dawn. Or everyone I know. OK, this whole thing is completely insane. And it's driving *me* crazy. Pull yourself together, Buffy. Find him. Slay him. Get over it.*
Sighing, she pulled a business card from her pants pocket. Angel Investigations...Hyperion Hotel. She really, really hadn't wanted to get Angel involved in this. Seeing him, being with him after Mom's funeral had been simultaneously comforting and painful. Though the trauma did seem to lessen with each encounter. Still, that didn't mean that popping in on him so soon was at the top of her Fun Stuff To Do list.
But Los Angeles was definitely more his town than hers--he'd be able to help her find Spike-fast. Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary to complicate things by explaining the weirdness she and Angel's childe had been tangled up in over the past few months. Because that would just open up a whole new can of angst...
He doodled a design on a legal pad. He refilled his stapler. He sniffed some Liquid Paper. Finally, Angel shoved his chair back from his desk. He was bored...incredibly bored. No new cases since Monday, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Since he was no longer "The Boss" at Angel Investigations, he had to wait for Wesley to take the lead. And waiting wasn't Angel's strong suit. Unless the waiting was *his* idea. Showing humility, apologizing, basically crawling back on his hands and knees to regain the acceptance of his friends...it had been the right thing to do. But maybe he'd gotten a little carried away with the whole "I'll earn back your trust by demoting myself to sub-receptionist status" thing. This was boring, and, well...lame. Still, it was better than the alternative. Without Cordy, Wesley, and Gunn, he'd been more alone than he'd been since...well, since leaving Sunnydale for the first time. Going back after Joyce's funeral had dredged up so many memories. Seeing Buffy had been...hard. But less painful than he'd expected, somehow. Watching her suffer had been excruciating. His heart ached for her loss. But for once, he was able to leave her without guilt, knowing that he belonged here in LA. And he felt like she knew it, too. They'd always share something, but his work here was his purpose, now. He had no way of knowing when, or even if, they'd be together again in either of their lifetimes-but he could make a difference here, with or without her. Tearing himself out of broody mode, he wandered into Cordy's office.
"Hey. Pizza or Chinese?"
Cordy looked up from the ledger book open on her desk.
"Hunh? Pete's Chinese? Good for him. Who's Pete?"
"No, Peet-za *or* Chinese FOOD? What do you want for dinner?"
"Oh. Chinese. But *I'll* tip the guy. You're so cheap, Yuck Foo's probably has us blacklisted already. I'm sure our orders have given PuPu Platter a whole new meaning."
Angel rolled his eyes. "Okay, for the last time-I'm *not* cheap, just old..."
"Wow, you're still using that line?"
Cordy's blue eyes widened as she dropped her pencil. Angel just spun around, startled. Usually his senses rang in her presence, but this time she'd managed to sneak in under his radar.
"Buffy? What the..."
"Hey guys. I need your help in kind of a major way."
Willow had her Worried Face on, and Tara didn't like it. That little wrinkle between her lover's eyebrows was adorable, but it didn't bode well. And now she sighed and looked at Dawn.
"I know you're kind of...friendly with Spike, but you probably shouldn't have gotten in the middle of this, Dawnie. I mean, Buffy's having a real hard time right now, and going to LA isn't exactly gonna make things easier for her. What with, you know, Angel and everything..."
Dawn looked at her fingernails. She was sick and tired of explaining herself. And she wasn't about to apologize for doing what she *knew* was the right thing.
"Will, Buffy was planning to *stake* him, all because of some dumb dream she had. Just because you guys hate him doesn't mean you should kill him based on...nothing. Buffy's not psychic. And Spike wouldn't hurt me or her. Ever. *I* don't have to be Miss Cleo to know that. He's changed-and not just because of the chip. If Buffy dusts him, she'll regret it, not only because I'll never forgive her. There's something more to Spike that she's just not seeing. I can't explain it...it's just a feeling I have."
"W-well, Buffy's got a *bad* feeling about Spike. How do you know her 'feeling' isn't just as valid as yours?" Tara ventured timidly. "I mean, when it comes to Glory a-and you, she's not willing to take any chances. She loves you too much for that."
Dawn knew Willow and Tara were being nicer about this than they had to be. She knew everyone was really worried-about her, about what Glory might do-particularly Buffy. Still, she couldn't shake the sense that her sister was *way* off track in going after Spike.
*I just hope he doesn't think that I ratted him out. It wasn't that hard for the gang to figure out that he went to L.A., once they knew he was gone.*
Dawn sighed and turned her attention to the table near the back of the store, where Anya, Giles, Willow, and Tara were now gathered. Despite Anya's protestations, Giles had hung the CLOSED sign on the door so they could have lunch and discussion without interruption. Xander, on his lunch break from the site, had just strolled in. Evidently, everyone had temporarily given up trying to break through Dawn's Fortress of Stubbornness.
*Good. They won't change my mind about Spike no matter how much they lecture me, anyway.*
Willow was talking excitedly, as Tara smiled, nodding occasionally...
"So, if we get this spell started while Buffy's gone, we'll maybe have some good news for her by the time she gets back!"
Giles looked skeptical. "It's a fine idea in theory, Willow, but has anyone ever done it successfully-that's the real question. We're dealing with a god, after all. There's no halfway as far as Glory's concerned. I'm unaware of any magicks powerful enough to deal with what she is..."
Willow still looked hopeful.
"I'm not saying it's a perfect solution, Giles-it won't kill her, but it should weaken her significantly. It's a sort of binding spell and energy-leecher rolled into one. It'll make her lethargic, and she won't know why. It won't be easy for her to think, or plan-and she won't get as much nourishment from the brain-suckage. If it's really the suckage that keeps her going and the spell works, by the time we-Buffy and us-confront her, she'll be much more vulnerable. Obviously we can't kill her-'cause of, you know, pesky immortality-but Tara and I could trap her in an energy field or our own making-and, and shoot her out into space or something!"
Xander jumped up, knocking his chair over in his excitement.
"Yeah-like in Superman. You know, Zod and the gang, trapped in that giant CD-looking thingee! They were all like, 'ahh-we're being shot out into space-aaaaaagggh!'"
He pressed his hands against an invisible barrier and grimaced.
Anya looked startled.
"Xander, please. You know it terrifies me when you mime. It's just...wrong."
"Willow, before we go any further with this plan, or are driven to any more Marcel Marceau impressions," Giles said, shooting Xander a look, "I'd like to examine these spells you're working on. Anya should, too. We need to be as familiar with this process as possible, in the event of...difficulties. But I agree we *should* pursue it, if only because it's unlikely to make matters worse...and we really have no better options."
"Of course, Giles-we'll go over them right away-this could really work. We might just kick her hellgoddess butt right into another universe," Willow said, smiling at Tara, who was looking slightly less confident than before.
Giles frowned and sipped his tea. "Let's not get too cocky about this plan...remember what happened in Superman II...?"
*William...come back! Come back to...You're beneath me...beneath me Spike...God, I want you...Spike, my Spike...you're a bad doggy...You're a monster...Beneath me...You disgust me...Help me, please! Help me...*
Spike sat bolt-upright on the squeaky motel bed. So much for a good day's rest.
*Hah. Should be used to it, by now. Goddamn dreams. Nothing floating about my subconscious except a load of old rubbish. Bloody flashbacks. Why can't I see what's gonna happen, instead of what's already passed under the bleedin' bridge?*
At least it was dark enough now to get the hell out of this fleabag room. He'd shaken the grapevine a bit, and found out where he could go. As well as exactly where to avoid. He was pretty sure he could get blood at one of the places. He knew he could get booze there-plus, it was some kind of "sanctuary" for demons and such. No fighting on the premises. Which was fine with Spike. He was still a little shaken up from the encounter with those two vamps.
That one, the one who'd begged for his own death-psychically-had really spooked him. The vibes coming off the boy had been so strange. So...human. That happened sometimes with half-breed demons. Their human blood made them act freakishly *normal*. But vamps were different. The darkness was palpable when he encountered one of his own kind. Didn't matter how ordinary-Joe they appeared-he could always sense the void where a soul should be. And that was only proper. The natural order of things. Vamps didn't have souls. Or, usually, death wishes. No more than any predator would. But that kid...
*And how did he get into my thoughts like that? Bugger wormed his way right into my mind. And why the bloody hell is this still bothering me?*
He shrugged into his duster. Reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes, his hand wrapped around something else. Dammit. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and reached for the phone. One ring...two. He held the receiver loosely, poised to hang up immediately if necessary. Three rings, and...
"Hello?"
*sigh*
"Niblet?"...
Author's note: Just wanted to apologize for the long delay between chapters. Life has been hectic in some not-so-good ways for the past couple of weeks. But thanks for all the wonderful feedback--it's a big part of what keeps me going with this monster!
Disclaimer: All characters herein are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy--even Spike (darn his sinister attraction) isn't mine. I'm just borrowing.
DEAD RINGER
Chapter 6
COLD PURSUIT
Buffy stepped off the train, blinking against the glare of the L.A. morning. She was tired, thirsty, and sniffly. Her throat felt scratchy.
*Great. Apocalypse looming; vampire at large; ex-boyfriend around the corner, and now...a cold. Yay. Just...yay.*
She'd hated leaving Sunnydale for about a million reasons, though it was certainly necessary. She hadn't stopped worrying about Dawn for more than a couple of minutes-and those minutes were occupied with thoughts of...Spike. Dammit. Thoughts of how she'd find him...and kill him.
*This is *so* nuts. Why, why, why? If only he hadn't gotten chipped. If only he hadn't "fallen in love" with me. If only I hadn't had that dream. If only he were in Sunnydale right now, he could be looking out for Dawn... Huh?? If *he* were back home, I wouldn't be *here*--I'd be there, killing him, because I'm afraid he's going to get *me* killed. Or Dawn. Or everyone I know. OK, this whole thing is completely insane. And it's driving *me* crazy. Pull yourself together, Buffy. Find him. Slay him. Get over it.*
Sighing, she pulled a business card from her pants pocket. Angel Investigations...Hyperion Hotel. She really, really hadn't wanted to get Angel involved in this. Seeing him, being with him after Mom's funeral had been simultaneously comforting and painful. Though the trauma did seem to lessen with each encounter. Still, that didn't mean that popping in on him so soon was at the top of her Fun Stuff To Do list.
But Los Angeles was definitely more his town than hers--he'd be able to help her find Spike-fast. Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary to complicate things by explaining the weirdness she and Angel's childe had been tangled up in over the past few months. Because that would just open up a whole new can of angst...
He doodled a design on a legal pad. He refilled his stapler. He sniffed some Liquid Paper. Finally, Angel shoved his chair back from his desk. He was bored...incredibly bored. No new cases since Monday, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Since he was no longer "The Boss" at Angel Investigations, he had to wait for Wesley to take the lead. And waiting wasn't Angel's strong suit. Unless the waiting was *his* idea. Showing humility, apologizing, basically crawling back on his hands and knees to regain the acceptance of his friends...it had been the right thing to do. But maybe he'd gotten a little carried away with the whole "I'll earn back your trust by demoting myself to sub-receptionist status" thing. This was boring, and, well...lame. Still, it was better than the alternative. Without Cordy, Wesley, and Gunn, he'd been more alone than he'd been since...well, since leaving Sunnydale for the first time. Going back after Joyce's funeral had dredged up so many memories. Seeing Buffy had been...hard. But less painful than he'd expected, somehow. Watching her suffer had been excruciating. His heart ached for her loss. But for once, he was able to leave her without guilt, knowing that he belonged here in LA. And he felt like she knew it, too. They'd always share something, but his work here was his purpose, now. He had no way of knowing when, or even if, they'd be together again in either of their lifetimes-but he could make a difference here, with or without her. Tearing himself out of broody mode, he wandered into Cordy's office.
"Hey. Pizza or Chinese?"
Cordy looked up from the ledger book open on her desk.
"Hunh? Pete's Chinese? Good for him. Who's Pete?"
"No, Peet-za *or* Chinese FOOD? What do you want for dinner?"
"Oh. Chinese. But *I'll* tip the guy. You're so cheap, Yuck Foo's probably has us blacklisted already. I'm sure our orders have given PuPu Platter a whole new meaning."
Angel rolled his eyes. "Okay, for the last time-I'm *not* cheap, just old..."
"Wow, you're still using that line?"
Cordy's blue eyes widened as she dropped her pencil. Angel just spun around, startled. Usually his senses rang in her presence, but this time she'd managed to sneak in under his radar.
"Buffy? What the..."
"Hey guys. I need your help in kind of a major way."
Willow had her Worried Face on, and Tara didn't like it. That little wrinkle between her lover's eyebrows was adorable, but it didn't bode well. And now she sighed and looked at Dawn.
"I know you're kind of...friendly with Spike, but you probably shouldn't have gotten in the middle of this, Dawnie. I mean, Buffy's having a real hard time right now, and going to LA isn't exactly gonna make things easier for her. What with, you know, Angel and everything..."
Dawn looked at her fingernails. She was sick and tired of explaining herself. And she wasn't about to apologize for doing what she *knew* was the right thing.
"Will, Buffy was planning to *stake* him, all because of some dumb dream she had. Just because you guys hate him doesn't mean you should kill him based on...nothing. Buffy's not psychic. And Spike wouldn't hurt me or her. Ever. *I* don't have to be Miss Cleo to know that. He's changed-and not just because of the chip. If Buffy dusts him, she'll regret it, not only because I'll never forgive her. There's something more to Spike that she's just not seeing. I can't explain it...it's just a feeling I have."
"W-well, Buffy's got a *bad* feeling about Spike. How do you know her 'feeling' isn't just as valid as yours?" Tara ventured timidly. "I mean, when it comes to Glory a-and you, she's not willing to take any chances. She loves you too much for that."
Dawn knew Willow and Tara were being nicer about this than they had to be. She knew everyone was really worried-about her, about what Glory might do-particularly Buffy. Still, she couldn't shake the sense that her sister was *way* off track in going after Spike.
*I just hope he doesn't think that I ratted him out. It wasn't that hard for the gang to figure out that he went to L.A., once they knew he was gone.*
Dawn sighed and turned her attention to the table near the back of the store, where Anya, Giles, Willow, and Tara were now gathered. Despite Anya's protestations, Giles had hung the CLOSED sign on the door so they could have lunch and discussion without interruption. Xander, on his lunch break from the site, had just strolled in. Evidently, everyone had temporarily given up trying to break through Dawn's Fortress of Stubbornness.
*Good. They won't change my mind about Spike no matter how much they lecture me, anyway.*
Willow was talking excitedly, as Tara smiled, nodding occasionally...
"So, if we get this spell started while Buffy's gone, we'll maybe have some good news for her by the time she gets back!"
Giles looked skeptical. "It's a fine idea in theory, Willow, but has anyone ever done it successfully-that's the real question. We're dealing with a god, after all. There's no halfway as far as Glory's concerned. I'm unaware of any magicks powerful enough to deal with what she is..."
Willow still looked hopeful.
"I'm not saying it's a perfect solution, Giles-it won't kill her, but it should weaken her significantly. It's a sort of binding spell and energy-leecher rolled into one. It'll make her lethargic, and she won't know why. It won't be easy for her to think, or plan-and she won't get as much nourishment from the brain-suckage. If it's really the suckage that keeps her going and the spell works, by the time we-Buffy and us-confront her, she'll be much more vulnerable. Obviously we can't kill her-'cause of, you know, pesky immortality-but Tara and I could trap her in an energy field or our own making-and, and shoot her out into space or something!"
Xander jumped up, knocking his chair over in his excitement.
"Yeah-like in Superman. You know, Zod and the gang, trapped in that giant CD-looking thingee! They were all like, 'ahh-we're being shot out into space-aaaaaagggh!'"
He pressed his hands against an invisible barrier and grimaced.
Anya looked startled.
"Xander, please. You know it terrifies me when you mime. It's just...wrong."
"Willow, before we go any further with this plan, or are driven to any more Marcel Marceau impressions," Giles said, shooting Xander a look, "I'd like to examine these spells you're working on. Anya should, too. We need to be as familiar with this process as possible, in the event of...difficulties. But I agree we *should* pursue it, if only because it's unlikely to make matters worse...and we really have no better options."
"Of course, Giles-we'll go over them right away-this could really work. We might just kick her hellgoddess butt right into another universe," Willow said, smiling at Tara, who was looking slightly less confident than before.
Giles frowned and sipped his tea. "Let's not get too cocky about this plan...remember what happened in Superman II...?"
*William...come back! Come back to...You're beneath me...beneath me Spike...God, I want you...Spike, my Spike...you're a bad doggy...You're a monster...Beneath me...You disgust me...Help me, please! Help me...*
Spike sat bolt-upright on the squeaky motel bed. So much for a good day's rest.
*Hah. Should be used to it, by now. Goddamn dreams. Nothing floating about my subconscious except a load of old rubbish. Bloody flashbacks. Why can't I see what's gonna happen, instead of what's already passed under the bleedin' bridge?*
At least it was dark enough now to get the hell out of this fleabag room. He'd shaken the grapevine a bit, and found out where he could go. As well as exactly where to avoid. He was pretty sure he could get blood at one of the places. He knew he could get booze there-plus, it was some kind of "sanctuary" for demons and such. No fighting on the premises. Which was fine with Spike. He was still a little shaken up from the encounter with those two vamps.
That one, the one who'd begged for his own death-psychically-had really spooked him. The vibes coming off the boy had been so strange. So...human. That happened sometimes with half-breed demons. Their human blood made them act freakishly *normal*. But vamps were different. The darkness was palpable when he encountered one of his own kind. Didn't matter how ordinary-Joe they appeared-he could always sense the void where a soul should be. And that was only proper. The natural order of things. Vamps didn't have souls. Or, usually, death wishes. No more than any predator would. But that kid...
*And how did he get into my thoughts like that? Bugger wormed his way right into my mind. And why the bloody hell is this still bothering me?*
He shrugged into his duster. Reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes, his hand wrapped around something else. Dammit. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and reached for the phone. One ring...two. He held the receiver loosely, poised to hang up immediately if necessary. Three rings, and...
"Hello?"
*sigh*
"Niblet?"...