Title: Bonded

Author: Pulpgeek

E-mail: pulpgeek@hotmail.com

Rating: Say PG-14 same as the show

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. They belong to Joss Whedon and some suits. If they belonged to me there would be a lot less angst on the show.

Category: B/X friendship mostly. Romance and love triangles follow.

Note: This is not a romantic story to begin with but it is going in a B/X direction so if that is not your thing this might not be for you.

Not even demons came to The Pink for the atmosphere. Only things to do there are drink and fight, usually to the death. Rumor was the owner ran the place at a loss to ensure a steady supply of bodies. The stories differed on what exactly he did with them but most were enough to turn even Spike's stomach. He didn't even want to think about what the name referred to.

The vampire didn't like the bar or it's clientele but it was about the only place left in Sunnydale that would still serve him What else was he going to do, go without booze?

After bashing in a few heads Spike was normally assured a quiet place to drink. Those dumb enough to bother him usually ended up helping Spike vent some of his considerable anger. Given the dangerous rep he had gone to great lengths to build having a human sit down next to him was an unpleasant surprise.

"Hello beast. Your looking quite castrated this evening."

The voice. The weird grating accent. That and the symbol on the back of his hand. Germany. bout a hundred twenty years back. A Reaver. Crap.

"Get the hell away from me chaos boy. Got no time for your brand of killing."

"Silly beast. I'm here to fix you."

"You bastards have nothing I want so piss off."

"Not that chip in your head?"

How the hell?

"It's not what you think beast. Read this, you can read can't you?"

A slim folder dropped onto the table. Just formed out of nothing. Spike hated magic. Much as he might like a little anarchy to start the day there was a lot to be said for obeying the laws of nature. Things happening just because some prat waves a dead cat around was no way to run a universe.

"Why don't you save me the trouble and just spell it out for the poor dumb vampire?"

A sneer. It looked like his natural expression. Probably was, arrogant bastards that lot.

"It was called a morality circuit', an artificial soul if you will. At it's most basic form it kept you from killing people. Over time it has changed you, turned you into a tamed pet. It has imprinted a series of stimulus response commands that mirror what passed for your soul."

"You have no bloody idea what you're talking about."

"Aside from the fact you think you're in love with the Slayer? That you care about her little sister? You feel nothing beast, it is all in the chip. Give it another year and you'll be all but human again. Then there will be that whole annoying guilt issue to deal with. I can fix that, take the pain away.."

The hell he would. He was probably lying, chaos types are know for it. If he wasn't though, if by some sick twist the Reaver meant what he said then Spike suddenly didn't want the chip out of his head quite so much. Mostly because he had the sick feeling who his first victim would be.

"Your full of it mate but maybe I have grown attached to this little bit of technology. On a good night I can even pick up radio channels. So why don't you go away. Now."

"Such a rude creature, no respect for it's betters. Lucky for you beast I'm feeling forgiving. Here, let me show you what you have been missing."

The man didn't so much as twitch but out of nowhere Spike felt a retching pain that tore at every twisted fiber of his being. Something was being ripped from him, something he hadn't even realized he had. All this time, he had been so close. Sorry pet, hope you kill me quick. Then the pain was gone, all of it. No more brooding angst over Buffy. No more worry. He was William the friggen bloody Spike again.

"Not that I'm complaining but why the hell did you do that? You boys aren't exactly know for generosity." His head was still spinning but damn he felt good.

"Entertainment value. You're going to want and see the Slayer hurt, we feel the same."

"The Slayer. Oh yhea, I'm going to love making that little bitch bleed."

Buffy. That little teasing whore. Spike suddenly knew how Angel had felt when the soul had left him. She had made him care, made him love her. She had to pay for that with her worthless life.

"Please. You think you are going to take the Slayer?"

"Think you can stop me mage?"

"She will stake you as easy as she's taken out hundreds of your kin. I thought you smarter than that beast. There are better ways to hurt the girl. Do what you wish though, it means little to us."

He was gone. Not got up and left, just gone. Good riddance. Spike tossed away the shot glass he'd been holding. He wanted a drink of a different kind. Red, warm and gushing from the neck of a screaming cow. God but that sounded good. A warm up for the main event. One way or another he was going to rip the Slayer's heart out.

The infernal chip that had twisted his mind lay on the bar in front on him. Small bits of fleshy matter stuck to it, brain parts probably, small price to pay. Spike bit down his instinct to smash the vile thing. Better to keep it as a reminder, something to wave in Buffy's face before he tore it off.

..

Being a Slayer is not supposed to be dull. Nasty, violent and unpleasant yes but never boring. Three nights in a row of absolutely nothing happening was making Buffy Summers nervous. She should be happy, down time is a scarce commodity in a Slayer's life. Both experience and fatalism told her that the reason nothing was happening was due to something very bad on the horizon.

With not a monster in sight this patrol had turned into more of a bonding session. Buffy had drifted somewhat from her friends since coming back to life. Working out her pain and their guilt turned out to be the easy part. Rebuilding the tight friendship they once shared was taking work. The sort of work Buffy was actually enjoying.

It was just the three of them this evening. Willow, Xander and her. The old Scooby gang together again. Being with them once more was fun, though Buffy couldn't fight off a tinge of sadness. Xander was telling quirky stories about him and Anya while Willow regaled Buffy with what her and Tara did over the summer. It was nice to see her friends happy for a change but it also reminded Buffy of how alone she was. Having someone in her life would be nice, someone to lean on or just hold her tight and say all the right things. The closest thing to a relationship she had right now was being stalked by an obsessed vampire. Spike had proven himself when the chips were down but boyfriend material he was not.

"You guys hear music?"

Willow's sudden topic change pulled Buffy out of her funk.

"Sounds like someone has a rave going. Good for them, gives the young and stupid someplace to gather. Anyway, like I was saying, this new thing of Anya's is kind of creeping me out. Last night she wanted to play naughty shoplifting girl and the firm storeowner who teaches her to respect the value of property.' She's a capitalist running-dog even in bed these days."

"Xander, we do not need to hear about your scary sex life. I don't tell you about the things Tara and I do together now do I?"

"No but if you want to start let me get a tape recorder."

"Guys." The tone in Buffy's voice brought a quick end to the teasing.

"What's up Buff?"

"I think I feel like dancing. You guy's up?"

"Rubbing up against you in confined space while bad music ruins my hearing? I'm game?"

"Will?"

"Ok, but I reserve the right to hex any one who tries to cop a feel."

Dancing. Pointless and somewhat sexual gyrations to what passed for music. Could be just what she needed to bust the bad mood for the night. Go away moping Buffy, it's time for party-girl Buffy to take control.

Following the pounding beat led to a converted warehouse, the kind of place used only for rave parties or vampire lairs. Maybe the occasional cult gathering. A few bucks and a deadly smile from Buffy got them past the door and into the party. Actually orgy where everyone forgot to take their clothes off' might have been a better description. Loud and violent music underlined vocals in a language Buffy had never heard before. Couples grinded into each other in what could pass for ballroom dancing done at a lightning pace.

Buffy noted the shocked look on her friend's faces, she almost forgot sometimes that they were both basically shy types. Old high school habits are hard to break. Wild and crazy these two are not. Right now though Buffy didn't want to think, she just wanted to shake it. Grabbing Xander's hand she pulled him into the dancing throng.

The second their bodies collided the wild dance seemed to slow. Her body was moving to the beat but Buffy's soul felt at rest. She missed this sort of closeness, being in the arms of someone she trusted with her life. Ignoring the crowd they danced slowly in each other's arms. It was a pleasant feeling, leaning against his chest and feeling the heat of a warm body against her own. Buffy closed her eyes and leaned in closer, the weight of her destiny momentarily forgotten. Her insecurity, unfortunately, would not take the night off.

Was this just a friendly dance? She forgot sometimes the years that Xander had been in love with her. Did he still feel something? Anya was good for him. They were happy together. Why was she even thinking these things? Jealous that her friend had the stability she longed for? Wondering if maybe she made a mistake? No. That line of thought had to die. Not going to go the what it?' route. Just going to enjoying being with a friend. A guy friend. A guy friend who has filled out a lot since high school. Stop that!

"Buffy, I think you should take a look at this."

Saved. "What is it?"

Rather than responding he turned slightly so Buffy could see Willow standing against the far wall. She didn't look to be enjoying the rave. Judging by the less than subtle signals she was sending Buffy's way something was up.

A few sharp glances around the room confirmed Willow's instincts. Nothing vampire level creepy but there was still something unsettling about a few of the ravers. Predatory was the only way to describe them. Hard eyes and cruel smiles. A fashion sense that made Angel look positively colorful. Buffy couldn't feel anything demonic about them but there was still an odd something that made her uncomfortable. Not get out a stake and kill them' uncomfortable but enough to ruin her good mood. Maybe it was time to call it a night.

Buffy let go of Xander with a reluctance that surprised her. Maybe it was her imagination but his hands seemed slow to leave her body as well. They headed over to collect Willow but a sudden shift in the music captured their attention. Gone was the industrial beat, now a repetitive drumming sound pounded on Buffy's brain. The chant overlaying the steady rhythm would have sounded more appropriate for a cult gathering. Repetitive gibberish in what sounded like mangled Latin. The flock of dancers left the floor leaving room for a small group to gather. Then the knives came out.

Slayer instincts almost took over before Buffy realized it was part of the dance. Moving in pairs the dancers cut at each other as they glided across the floor. Couples kept one hand linked to their partner while the other held the blade. No blood was being shed but with each slash more clothing fell away. If would probably have been erotic if every instinct didn't scream that Buffy did not want to see the second act of this performance. From the sweat of the dancers and the mummer of the crowd both participant and spectator found it quite enjoyable.

"Can I just say that right now I'm torn between admiring their moves and being totally weirded out?" Xander's attempt at humor broke the spell. Buffy still didn't know what was going on but she had the distinct desire to be gone. As in right now.

Buffy half expected some idiot to try and stop them as they made their escape. Escape. Just a bunch of fools dancing too fast to bad music. Still, something in there bothered her in a way she just couldn't pin down. She dealt with sociopaths before, it wasn't that , but these people, they were just wrong somehow. File it away, just one more thing to deal with. Another in a long list.

"That was no fun, I wanted to get funky."

"Guess it time for the old reliable Bronze then Will."

"Better some been there done that' funky than no funky at all right Buffy?"

"Hu? Sure Will. Bronze it is."

Boring and predictable sounded nice. Buffy was going to have a good time tonight no matter whose ass she had to kick. Linking arms with her two friends all troubles fell aside beneath the power of familiar laughter.

Spike was bloated. Draining three victims in a single evening was not just bad form it was murder on the body. He couldn't have cared less. Hot blood and the screams of the doomed. Damn he had missed the thrill. Drinking blood was ok, it was the taking part he truly enjoyed.

He should be celebrating but had ended up wrecking his crypt in frustration. The more he thought it through the harder it was to ignore. That wretched chaos mage had been right. No way in hell he'd be able to get Buffy. Not if he wanted to get out of Sunnydale with his hide intact. Much as he wanted the Slayer dead he valued his own un-life more. Far too many things left to do in this life to just toss it all away over some silly girl. No choice but to make do with killing her friends then.

Gutting that stupid piker Xander was at the top of his list. That little git had taken every opportunity to remind him of how helpless that damn chip made him. He was a bad choice though. Spike didn't just need to hurt the Slayer, he wanted to destroy her. That left just one special target.

Such a tasty little thing. Breaking her heart is going to be almost as much fun as eating it.

The problem with going to places like the Bronze was that they made you feel old and out of touch at age twenty. The high percentage of high school kids didn't help. Good God Buffy wondered, did I look that dorky on the dance floor at sixteen? All the groping going on, does Dawn come here? She'd better not or that girl is going to be locked in her room tell she's eighteen.

Buffy shot a wistful glance over to where her friends were dancing. Two happy, if a little bit weird, couples. And here she sat alone at the table like a wallflower. Buffy Summers should not be a wallflower. A superpower all-around hot babe like her should be out their breaking hearts. Boy this self pity stuff sucks. Maybe it was time to try dating again, somewhere out there has to be a good looking nice guy who can deal with her being superwoman. Maybe if she promised not to drive this one away?

The Slayer's far away look must have caught her friend's attention as they quickly surrounded her.

"What did we tell you about moping Buffy. Moping is out, we want happy Buffy."

"Sorry. Happy Buffy is off in a corner getting drunk and feeling sorry for herself."

"Too bad. You are going to have fun tonight Buffy if we have to force fun down you gullet. It's for your own good."

"Ok, I give Will. But really, gullet?"

"Oh just come dance with us Slayer-lady."

Big smiles fixed on their faces Willow and Xander each grabbed hold of Buffy and dragged her, not quite kicking and screaming, towards the dance floor. You had to admire their persistence. Kicking those annoying feeling of loneliness to the curb Buffy surrendered to the rhythm. Ok brain, go away and I'll call you later. Now girl, shut up and dance.

It was well past one when Xander let himself into the magic shop, one of the perks of living with the lady in charge. He should probably be home snuggled up with Anya but a late night at the Bronze was no excuse for breaking routine. A good night overall, it almost felt like the old days with the three of them. No huge drama hanging over their heads just three friends enjoying each other's company. Maybe he'd enjoyed Buffy's company a bit too much, those last few dances had brought on feelings he thought dead and buried. Buffy was not the sort of girl you ever really got over no matter how much he might wish otherwise.

Tonight he'd seen the quirky beauty he had fallen hard for what seemed so many years ago. Not a good thing to be thinking about when you and your current steady are talking marriage.

Xander shook off that train of thought and headed for the back room. He'd been coming here the last two weeks to train at nights. A gym would be easier but this place had it's own form of appeal. Why the current obsession with getting stronger he couldn't say. He was far from the scrawny kid of his high school years, lots of manual labor had seen to that. Maybe on some level he believed that actually protecting Buffy was now possible. To be honest it was probably Spike though. The way Buffy relied on the vampire still got to him. No matter how much the blood sucker helped a small part of Xander always screamed whenever Buffy went off with it. A few thousand more days hitting the bag and I might actually have a chance of taking him out. Or not.

The workout always ended with him laying into the punching bag. Great for stress relief if nothing else and picturing Spike's face always helped him last a little bit longer.

Not bad.

"Who" Xander whipped around, scanning for the voice's origin. No one. That is what happens when you spend one too many years on the Hellmouth he told himself, your brain starts to melt.

He went back to assaulting the bag while killing Spike in his head. This time he didn't even notice the voice or the spectral woman it came from.

Not bad at all.