Spike walked along the dark night streets of Sunnydale, muttering to
himself. "Now I'm not even good enough to help… no we…" He didn't know if
he wanted to break something or if he'd rather go back to his burnt-out
crypt to cry a little more. If she didn't even ask him for help anymore,
then that meant he wouldn't see her at all. In this mood, if he showed up
on patrol uninvited, she was more than capable of staking him right then
and there. Desperation surged through his body.
Loud music snapped him out of his depressing thoughts. Subconsciously, he had arrived in front of one of Sunnydale's notorious demon hunts'. The vampire straightened. No need for them to see him wallowing in self-pity. Also, he thought, while he was here, he could still do some research. He had been at the Magic Box long enough to have overheard what the whats were. Anya was still MIA, and they didn't know where to look. Well, this was a place, for starters, he thought when he entered the crowded room.
Taking his bad mood out on the regulars, he elbowed his way to the bar.
"Ow!", a female voice said with indignation.
"What's your problem, Baby? This isn't the bloody Queen's…" Spike gaped at the women in front of him.
"William The Bloody! Who else could be so bad-mannered!"
"Cecily The Vengeance Demon!" Spike had gathered himself, including his mouth, enough to mock a half-bow.
"Justice. Justice demon, if you don't mind." Halfrek's dark curls bounced when she nodded to emphasise her correct title.
The blond-bleached vampire shrugged: "Whatever."
"And the name's Halfrek. I only assumed the human name to be able to bring justice on some people in London."
Spike didn't know how he deserved this much luck. They were looking for Anya, and he ran into the very person who just might have the answer. 'Play it cool, mate', he told himself. The vampire lit a cigarette. "So. For old times sake, are you up to a round of bar-hopping through Sunnydale's demon- world?"
Halfrek nodded, and they struggled their way through the crowd to a first pit-stop at this bar.
**************************************************************************** **********
"She is what?" Xander had the feeling to fall from one shock to the next. "Buffy???" He turned to the small blond girl that now stepped back to the table.
Her face was red, from lots of cold water and a good scrub with a towel. She had obviously tried real hard to get herself together. She patted Xander on the shoulder reassuringly and sat down again. After another silence between the three, the slayer spoke: "I don't know about love, Will. But I have feelings for him. I care for him very much. And I used him so badly, I treated him… horribly. There is no excuse." She sighed. "Really, no excuse at all. I started it, from the beginning. Since I was back, Spike was content just being my friend. Listening to what I said. But mostly listening to me not talking. Unlike you guys he didn't want reassurance, he didn't ask how I was, he… he just understood." She paused again. How could she explain what had happened to her friends when she didn't even understand herself why she had kissed Spike in the first place?
"You don't have to…" Willow tried to help her out.
"Thanks Will. I know. And I think I'm not even able to… to explain. It was just – it started with the Dancing Demon. Spike sang to me, then he saved my life, and then I just felt I had to kiss him. I wanted to feel something, anything, and he… came in handy. So we kissed."
"I am still not sure if I want to hear this, Buff. The image of you kissing Spike… it's just…" Xander shuddered.
Buffy didn't seem to hear. "And then, the day Giles left, after the forgetting spell, I went to the Bronze, to get drunk. Spike showed up, and I tried to ignore him – I really tried, Xander! – but I couldn't. So I sent him away, than ran after him, and another make-out session followed."
"Can I have a forgetting spell right now, please?"
The girls ignored him. Buffy was on a role now. "And then, the day after the Kings of Nerddom broke into the Museum, we found out that Spike can hit me, because I came back… different…"
"What?" Xander asked his favourite question of the night. "You came back… wrong? Are you a demon?"
"Xander!" Willow glared at him and decided that the guy was in deep need of some 'people skills'-training.
"No, I'm not a demon. It's just that my molecules have been shifted around a little through the resurrection, and whatever it is in Spike's chip that recognises humans, doesn't identify me as such." When Xander's face remained worried, Buffy added: "Nothing serious, just a molecular sunburn, so to say." She took a deep breath in. "Well, anyways, I got really angry at him for suggesting what you just did – that I came back wrong. We fought, and traded insults, and as the kicks and punches didn't shut him up, I…" Buffy shrugged.
"Let me guess: You kissed him again."
"Not only that…" Buffy let her head hang, ashamed.
"Oh no! And I got the visual already! This will chase me in my most horrible nightmares!"
Willow, for once, didn't snap at him. Dreamily, she murmured: "I bet he is great in bed…"
"Will!" Now it was Xander and Buffy who played Greek Choir.
The red-haired girl turned crimson red. "Did I just say that aloud?" Then she shrugged. "Hey, lesbian here. Just observing the facts. He has over a century of experience. I mean, that must account for something!"
**************************************************************************** **********
Spike and Halfrek, both in human-faced disguise, were sitting in the third bar of their tour, the demoness sipping some kind of cocktail with her little finger elegantly pointing away from the glass. The vampire was nursing a Scotch and had the bottle conveniently placed next to him on the table. His eyes seemed a little bit unfocused while he was listening to Halfrek babbling away about her successes in avenging children against their parents "…and/or", as she pointed out proudly, "their legal guardians."
"So, when I met you in London, you already were a veng… uhm, a justice demon in disguise?"
Halfrek nodded, a little bit self-conscious now. "This is why I told you that you were beneath me. To break your heart real quick, because I knew there wasn't a chance in any dimension that we could have a relationship." She cringed a little bit under Spike's disbelieving stare. "Yeah, ok., and because you were, you know. As a human. Beneath me, being a demon. Well, I was very young then, and the new powers took to my head, I guess." She shrugged apologetically. "No reason to go out and get yourself bit to be turned into a vampire, William. That's pathetic!"
"I was pathetic, remember? All the poems I was writing… hysterically funny, if it weren't so sad. Couldn't even hold a gun straight, lest kill a fluffy little rabbit when out on a hunt." Spike snorted in remembrance of his former self. But the disgust he wished to display soon turned into melancholy. "Ah, the sun shining through the fall foliage…" He emptied his glass and refilled it quickly. His eyes watered, to his own surprise.
Halfrek patted him on his forearm to comfort him. "Now, now, William. Tell me how you feel. Do you miss the sunshine?"
"Funny you should ask." Spike paused and furrowed his brows. He obviously did some serious thinking. "I didn't for a long time. First, there were fights to fight, Drusilla to impress, Angelus to piss off. Then, there was the slayer. The chosen one. In each generation, that one girl of light who fights the forces of darkness. She became my sunshine." He emptied his glass again, refilling it with shaking hands. "When I am in her arms, when her blond hair tickles my face, I have my very own rays of sunshine flushing my cheeks." Another big swig, and the glass was empty.
Halfrek regarded him with sympathy but didn't interrupt. She was here to listen, and after centuries as a justice demon for kids, she had practice. Patience, she knew, would bring it all out eventually.
And after emptying yet another glass of whiskey, Spike continued, his speech starting to get slurry: "Shou know, I can shmell the shunshine on her…" His voice trailed off. Then, as if to clear his mind, he shook his head violently. "Well, not anymore, eh, luv?" His laughter was mirthless.
"Do you wish to smell her yet again, William?" Halfrek asked nicely.
"Do I… what?" Spike stared at her. "Oh no. I can smell her all the time. Vampire, remember? It pretty much kills me, but then again, not smelling her anymore… when she was dead, it was as if the air lacked an integral part, you know?" His eyes filled with tears again, and he emptied the bottle into his glass, taking another good swig. "And you know what the worst part was? Knowing that I wouldn't die. Not of old age, not of a disease, not of anything remotely human. I would keep on living and living and living…"
"So, what do you want then, William?" Halfrek's voice was soothing, but insistent. "Do you want to be free again?"
"Free of Buffy?" He asked.
"Free of her, free of the chip that turned you into the laughing stock of each vampire satire… whatever you wish!" Halfrek sounded alluring now.
"What are you suggesting?"
"I could take care of your chip-problem for you. Make it so that it never happened. Do you want that?"
"Do I want…?"
Loud music snapped him out of his depressing thoughts. Subconsciously, he had arrived in front of one of Sunnydale's notorious demon hunts'. The vampire straightened. No need for them to see him wallowing in self-pity. Also, he thought, while he was here, he could still do some research. He had been at the Magic Box long enough to have overheard what the whats were. Anya was still MIA, and they didn't know where to look. Well, this was a place, for starters, he thought when he entered the crowded room.
Taking his bad mood out on the regulars, he elbowed his way to the bar.
"Ow!", a female voice said with indignation.
"What's your problem, Baby? This isn't the bloody Queen's…" Spike gaped at the women in front of him.
"William The Bloody! Who else could be so bad-mannered!"
"Cecily The Vengeance Demon!" Spike had gathered himself, including his mouth, enough to mock a half-bow.
"Justice. Justice demon, if you don't mind." Halfrek's dark curls bounced when she nodded to emphasise her correct title.
The blond-bleached vampire shrugged: "Whatever."
"And the name's Halfrek. I only assumed the human name to be able to bring justice on some people in London."
Spike didn't know how he deserved this much luck. They were looking for Anya, and he ran into the very person who just might have the answer. 'Play it cool, mate', he told himself. The vampire lit a cigarette. "So. For old times sake, are you up to a round of bar-hopping through Sunnydale's demon- world?"
Halfrek nodded, and they struggled their way through the crowd to a first pit-stop at this bar.
**************************************************************************** **********
"She is what?" Xander had the feeling to fall from one shock to the next. "Buffy???" He turned to the small blond girl that now stepped back to the table.
Her face was red, from lots of cold water and a good scrub with a towel. She had obviously tried real hard to get herself together. She patted Xander on the shoulder reassuringly and sat down again. After another silence between the three, the slayer spoke: "I don't know about love, Will. But I have feelings for him. I care for him very much. And I used him so badly, I treated him… horribly. There is no excuse." She sighed. "Really, no excuse at all. I started it, from the beginning. Since I was back, Spike was content just being my friend. Listening to what I said. But mostly listening to me not talking. Unlike you guys he didn't want reassurance, he didn't ask how I was, he… he just understood." She paused again. How could she explain what had happened to her friends when she didn't even understand herself why she had kissed Spike in the first place?
"You don't have to…" Willow tried to help her out.
"Thanks Will. I know. And I think I'm not even able to… to explain. It was just – it started with the Dancing Demon. Spike sang to me, then he saved my life, and then I just felt I had to kiss him. I wanted to feel something, anything, and he… came in handy. So we kissed."
"I am still not sure if I want to hear this, Buff. The image of you kissing Spike… it's just…" Xander shuddered.
Buffy didn't seem to hear. "And then, the day Giles left, after the forgetting spell, I went to the Bronze, to get drunk. Spike showed up, and I tried to ignore him – I really tried, Xander! – but I couldn't. So I sent him away, than ran after him, and another make-out session followed."
"Can I have a forgetting spell right now, please?"
The girls ignored him. Buffy was on a role now. "And then, the day after the Kings of Nerddom broke into the Museum, we found out that Spike can hit me, because I came back… different…"
"What?" Xander asked his favourite question of the night. "You came back… wrong? Are you a demon?"
"Xander!" Willow glared at him and decided that the guy was in deep need of some 'people skills'-training.
"No, I'm not a demon. It's just that my molecules have been shifted around a little through the resurrection, and whatever it is in Spike's chip that recognises humans, doesn't identify me as such." When Xander's face remained worried, Buffy added: "Nothing serious, just a molecular sunburn, so to say." She took a deep breath in. "Well, anyways, I got really angry at him for suggesting what you just did – that I came back wrong. We fought, and traded insults, and as the kicks and punches didn't shut him up, I…" Buffy shrugged.
"Let me guess: You kissed him again."
"Not only that…" Buffy let her head hang, ashamed.
"Oh no! And I got the visual already! This will chase me in my most horrible nightmares!"
Willow, for once, didn't snap at him. Dreamily, she murmured: "I bet he is great in bed…"
"Will!" Now it was Xander and Buffy who played Greek Choir.
The red-haired girl turned crimson red. "Did I just say that aloud?" Then she shrugged. "Hey, lesbian here. Just observing the facts. He has over a century of experience. I mean, that must account for something!"
**************************************************************************** **********
Spike and Halfrek, both in human-faced disguise, were sitting in the third bar of their tour, the demoness sipping some kind of cocktail with her little finger elegantly pointing away from the glass. The vampire was nursing a Scotch and had the bottle conveniently placed next to him on the table. His eyes seemed a little bit unfocused while he was listening to Halfrek babbling away about her successes in avenging children against their parents "…and/or", as she pointed out proudly, "their legal guardians."
"So, when I met you in London, you already were a veng… uhm, a justice demon in disguise?"
Halfrek nodded, a little bit self-conscious now. "This is why I told you that you were beneath me. To break your heart real quick, because I knew there wasn't a chance in any dimension that we could have a relationship." She cringed a little bit under Spike's disbelieving stare. "Yeah, ok., and because you were, you know. As a human. Beneath me, being a demon. Well, I was very young then, and the new powers took to my head, I guess." She shrugged apologetically. "No reason to go out and get yourself bit to be turned into a vampire, William. That's pathetic!"
"I was pathetic, remember? All the poems I was writing… hysterically funny, if it weren't so sad. Couldn't even hold a gun straight, lest kill a fluffy little rabbit when out on a hunt." Spike snorted in remembrance of his former self. But the disgust he wished to display soon turned into melancholy. "Ah, the sun shining through the fall foliage…" He emptied his glass and refilled it quickly. His eyes watered, to his own surprise.
Halfrek patted him on his forearm to comfort him. "Now, now, William. Tell me how you feel. Do you miss the sunshine?"
"Funny you should ask." Spike paused and furrowed his brows. He obviously did some serious thinking. "I didn't for a long time. First, there were fights to fight, Drusilla to impress, Angelus to piss off. Then, there was the slayer. The chosen one. In each generation, that one girl of light who fights the forces of darkness. She became my sunshine." He emptied his glass again, refilling it with shaking hands. "When I am in her arms, when her blond hair tickles my face, I have my very own rays of sunshine flushing my cheeks." Another big swig, and the glass was empty.
Halfrek regarded him with sympathy but didn't interrupt. She was here to listen, and after centuries as a justice demon for kids, she had practice. Patience, she knew, would bring it all out eventually.
And after emptying yet another glass of whiskey, Spike continued, his speech starting to get slurry: "Shou know, I can shmell the shunshine on her…" His voice trailed off. Then, as if to clear his mind, he shook his head violently. "Well, not anymore, eh, luv?" His laughter was mirthless.
"Do you wish to smell her yet again, William?" Halfrek asked nicely.
"Do I… what?" Spike stared at her. "Oh no. I can smell her all the time. Vampire, remember? It pretty much kills me, but then again, not smelling her anymore… when she was dead, it was as if the air lacked an integral part, you know?" His eyes filled with tears again, and he emptied the bottle into his glass, taking another good swig. "And you know what the worst part was? Knowing that I wouldn't die. Not of old age, not of a disease, not of anything remotely human. I would keep on living and living and living…"
"So, what do you want then, William?" Halfrek's voice was soothing, but insistent. "Do you want to be free again?"
"Free of Buffy?" He asked.
"Free of her, free of the chip that turned you into the laughing stock of each vampire satire… whatever you wish!" Halfrek sounded alluring now.
"What are you suggesting?"
"I could take care of your chip-problem for you. Make it so that it never happened. Do you want that?"
"Do I want…?"