Her Place in the World, and His Place in her Life
"I'm like a bird, I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is"
CHAPTER 1- Discovery
Spike looked around the dark, lonely crypt he called home. It wasn't too bad, as far as crypts went. He had lived in much worse places. Of course, that had been when he had had Dru by his side. It hadn't mattered where they were, he had thought of home as wherever he could lay his head down in the day. He shook his head, the thoughts scattering away. He wouldn't go back to brooding over her. It was over between them. The unstoppable duo was no more, and if he was honest with himself, he knew he rather liked being without her. His home was relatively clean, and that surprised him. What was wrong with him? "Not enough bloody cobwebs and mice in this place" he muttered. He took a long drag off of his cigarette. He might not need to breathe, but smoking was still as relaxing as it had been when he was alive. He sighed, exhaling the smoke into the air. He threw the cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out with his black leather boot. He turned, his trademark leather duster flapping behind him, and he headed outside, into the world of darkness.
Buffy shivered. She should have worn a jacket out on her patrol tonight, but she hadn't thought she'd need one. She rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen the muscles a little. She had been walking around Sunnydale for nearly three hours now, and so far the night seemed pretty quiet. There had been a trio of vamps on the corner of Elm, but they had been staked easily. She thought back to when she had first arrived to the Hellmouth. Part of her missed the days when staking a group of vamps had been a challenge. Where had the fun of the fight gone? She knew where. She was a better slayer now than she had been back then. Too many apocalypses to count, endless swarms of nasties, and a dozen boyfriends later, Buffy Summers was older, wiser, stronger, and lonelier. She wished she had asked someone to come with her. Giles was at a magic shop convention, Xander and Anya were celebrating their anniversary, Willow and Tara had new spells they were trying out, and Joyce and Dawn were out of town, visiting Hank, Buffy's father. Buffy had been surprised when Joyce agreed to take Dawn to see him. Buffy's father had never really taken an interest in Buffy's life, and she was kind of jealous he had taken one in Dawn's, especially considering she wasn't really even his daughter. Buffy shrugged, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Was it getting colder? Suddenly, she heard a noise in the direction of the cemetery. She turned around, and was met with a thump over her head. She fell to the ground with a thud, and the world went black.
"Bloody hell" Spike thought, when he saw the group of demons in the cemetery, his cemetery. Since having the chip put into his head, Spike couldn't inflict harm, any sort of harm, on any innocent. But those rules didn't apply when it came to the scourge of the demon world. Even if they weren't intruding on his turf, Spike still would have picked a fight. He was in the mood for a little fun. He walked over to them, not even trying to hide the fact that he was there. Everything changed, however, when he reached their little circle. In the middle, lying sprawled out, face down on the ground, was the Slayer. Spike cursed under his breath, and looked around for any sign of the Scoobies. He didn't see any, and concluded that Buffy had taken this watch alone. He cursed again, and then parted the circle of ugly demons, slipping into the middle. "Hey!" one cried out. "This is our prey vampire, go find your own!" The demons growled in unison, and had Spike not been his bad self, he might have felt intimidated. But, he was William the Bloody for Christ's sake. He could handle anything.
When Buffy awoke, her hand immediately went to the lump forming on her head. She rubbed it, then cringed as waves of pain ran through her weak body. In a few minutes, her Slayer healing abilities would take hold, and she'd begin to regain her health. "One of the many perks of being the chosen one," she thought. She shook her head, thoughts dazed. Then she remembered what had happened. She stood up, looking around her. She saw a group of tall, slender, slimy demons crowding around… wait. Was that Spike?!
Spike spun around, kicking a demon to the ground, and landing a punch in another's face. On the periphery of his vision, he saw that Buffy was struggling to get up from the ground. He shook his head. That bleeding girl was always getting him into trouble. And what did he get for sticking his neck out? A big fat, bloody nothing. He continued fighting the demons, throwing punches here and well aimed kicks there. When he finally had them all sprawling on the ground in front of him, he turned, and focused his attention on the Slayer. She was sitting up, still on the grass. She had a blank look in her eyes, staring straight in front of her. "What's wrong with me Spike?" she whispered. "Aw, hell… What are you going on about now Summers?" he walked over to her, and kneeled down in front of her. She met his eyes with her own, but only briefly. Her fingers were pulling idly on the hem of her shirt. "Those demons," she started, waving a hand over to the pile of demon trash nearby, "should never have been able to sneak up on me like that. I have the amazing Slayer senses, remember? But that's the thing… I didn't even hear them coming!" She tugged desperately at a piece of grass now. "And if that's not confusing enough, I haven't healed yet. The bruise the size of Manhattan on my head is still there. What happened to my Slayer healing? I just don't understand," she finished, shaking her head.
Spike cursed the Slayer. Then he cursed himself. Then he cursed fate in general. The chip in his head was no excuse to go soft now… not after all the agony he had caused, all the lives he had taken. But damn it, he almost felt sorry for Summers. She looked like she might cry at any moment. And then what would he be expected to do? Comfort her like a little child? He didn't bloody think so. Instead, he stood up, extending his hand in front of her face swiftly. "I'll walk you home," he half offered, half commanded. She looked up at him, then reluctantly took his hand, pulling herself up off of the ground. "You don't need to baby-sit me Spike. I can find my way home on my own." With that, she dropped his hand, and started walking out of the cemetery. Watching her walk away, he felt a pang in his heart. Spike cursed again. Then he trotted to catch up to her, his coat flapping behind him.
Buffy knew Spike would follow her. And in her heart of hearts, she knew she wanted him to. Why was anyone's guess… but she didn't want to be alone, especially after what had happened that night. Her mind was working at warp speed, trying to give her possible reasons for her Slayer skills rapid deterioration. But so far, she couldn't think of anything. She wondered if she should call Willow or Xander. Maybe they would offer to pull an all-nighter, and help her search Giles' books for some answers. She shook that thought away almost the instant it came to her. They both had lives, and she wasn't about to intrude on them for the sake of herself. They had already sacrificed so much for her that they deserved a break. Sighing, she knew that she was alone on this one. She felt Spike's presence next to her. Neither he, nor she, said a word, and both continued walking towards the Summers' residence. When she reached the door, Spike was right behind her. "Uh…" she began. "Thanks." She looked at him for a second, then turned as if to go inside. Spike grabbed her arm firmly, then loosened his grip. "Do you want help searching the books?"
It was as if Spike had asked her to sleep with him. The expression on her face… he couldn't even describe it. He repeated himself. "Do you want help searching the books?" This time, he saw her swallow hard, and nod yes. "It's as if you read my mind… it just startled me. Sorry," she explained. He wished he could read Buffy's mind. That's one place that would probably prove to be very interesting. But unfortunately, he didn't think he would ever get a chance to test his theory. He nodded his head, in acknowledgement. He turned around, and began walking towards Giles' magic shop. How had he known she wanted to try and find out what was wrong with her? It wasn't any sort of vampire intuition. No. This was more primal… more like he was connected with the Slayer. He shook his head, laughing mentally. Connected to the Slayer? Had he lost his bloody marbles?
Buffy walked just a few steps ahead of Spike, on their way to the Magic Box, Giles' magic shop. When they reached the side supply door, she found it was locked. Luckily though, she had a spare key. Giles had given it to her in case she ever wanted to train when he wasn't around. "Good old Giles…" Buffy thought. Once inside, Buffy flipped the light switch, illuminating the shop. The books they'd need for reference were in the loft. "Come on," instructed Buffy, walking up the stairs to the tiny loft where Giles' kept all of his personal materials. Buffy and Spike both sat down cross-legged on the floor, neither one saying anything, both deep in thought. Buffy chose a large brown leather book to look through first. She had seen Giles use it many times when they were in crisis mode. Maybe this one would have the answers she was looking for.
Spike wished he hadn't chosen this book to look through. It was an anthology of Watcher's diaries. The entries about himself, one of the most vicious vampires across the globe, were enough to make him want to punch his fist through a wall. He skimmed the pages, looking for any reference to a Slayer losing her powers. So far, neither Buffy nor him had had any luck with the old books. Something was bound to turn up though, wasn't it? He continued amiably, praying for the information that he was seeking to turn up. Just when he had lost all hope, Buffy's voice broke the silence in the shop, disrupting his thoughts. "I think I've found something here Spike," she said. "This excerpt makes reference to a Slayer who experienced the same unexplainable loss of powers that I have." Spike tried to read the expression on her face, but he was unable to. "Does it give a solution? Or, a reason why? Come on Buffy, what does it say?" he had never been the patient type, and it seemed like she was purposefully taking forever in telling him. "Hold on, I'm still reading it. From what I can gather, and mind you I am no Giles, this has happened only once before. Her name was Ruby, and she was a slayer in the 16th century. It says here that her powers just suddenly "disappeared" one day, leaving her weak and unable to perform as a slayer. In this case, another slayer had to be called prematurely, because she couldn't die, and she couldn't carry on her duties either. Oh God Spike… she couldn't die. She just lived in horrible pain. What if that happens to me?" There were tears sliding down Buffy's cheeks, and when she looked up at Spike from the book, he thought she looked very vulnerable, and very helpless. He wanted to hug her, to take her hand, to hold her for hours, and tell her it would be okay, but he knew he couldn't… knew she would never, in her weakest moments, allow him that luxury. Instead, he pushed aside his own burning desire to comfort her, and replaced his poker face. "Keep reading Buffy. We have to know everything, every aspect of Ruby's disease if we are to find a cure for you." He knew it was the sensible thing, and Buffy nodded, continuing to read from the book.
Buffy was shaking on the inside, and on the outside. How had this happened? Why her? Why now? She just didn't understand. It wasn't fair. She already had the life expectancy of a hamster. She didn't need a crippling disease too. They had gone over and over the pages with Ruby's story, but they came up with the same answer every time. There was no cure for Buffy's condition.