Halloween Changes Everything
This is quite definitely a "might-have-been" scenario - what might have happened if things had gone wrong in the costume shop. Of course, it might have ended with Spike killing Buffy, but that wouldn't be a terribly interesting fic, so it would have been fairly pointless to let that happen. So instead - something else happens. Read on to find out.
*** *** *** ***
He had her. There she was, lying pinned under him, whimpering in fear - the Slayer, the bane of his existence. Angel couldn't save her now. Nothing could save her now. Not even that bloody watcher of hers.
Which, in fact, was the case. On the other side of town, a desperate Giles was struggling against the cords that Ethan Rayne had used to tie him to the chair before skipping out of town. Or, at least, skipping out of the shop. Giles suddenly wished he hadn't sent Willow away.
Willow found herself trapped by vampires. Somehow, being a ghost hadn't stopped them from dragging her off to Spike's hideout, where Buffy - or rather, the frightened girl who had once been Buffy - was about to be killed.
Spike growled at the intrusion. "Do I have to have a bloody audience?" he yelled. "Get them out of here! Take the humans to a house and guard them. Make sure they don't get away, I'll deal with them later. And him," he nodded towards the struggling Angel. "Take him to Drusilla. She's getting tired of Miss Edith. She'll enjoy a new plaything. And get those damned monsters out of here!" The vampires shuffled out with their prisoners, muttering discontentedly.
Spike turned back to the terrified girl. "P-please don't hurt me!" she stammered, tears misting her eyes.
"Won't hurt much, love," he grinned. "Just like a pinprick. You'll hardly feel a thing."
"No - no, please don't!" The girl struggled ineffectually in his grasp, tears threatening to fall.
Somehow, he could no longer think of her as the Slayer. This was just a frightened girl, caught out of her own time - it wouldn't be fair - 'Since when have you cared about fairness?' sneered a voice in his head. 'She's not really the Slayer,' replied another voice stubbornly. 'So?' 'So - why should I kill her? I've fed already this evening.' 'So keep her till tomorrow.' 'No. Why should I? And where's the fun, the girl's helpless.' The other voice growled in his mind.
The girl was crying. Tears always undid him; he always weakened when Drusilla cried. He loosened his grip slightly. "What's your name, love?"
She blinked up at him, scared. "E-Elizabeth. Lady Elizabeth-"
"Nice name. Mine's William, but most people call me Spike." There was no response from the girl. "Do you have a nickname, or pet name? Lizzy? Beth?"
She snuffled. "Bess."
"Okay, Bess. Stop crying, I'm not going to hurt you." The voice in his mind growled with outrage, but he ignored it.
"Y-you're not? Really?"
He sat beside her, morphing back into his human form, an arm round her waist. "No, love. I thought you were someone else-" he hated himself for saying it, for his weakness, letting her go. "Just a case of mistaken identity."
"O-oh. S-so who-" Bess was still trembling. Somehow, it reminded him a little of Dru, at the start of her illness, making him want to protect her.
"There's a girl called Buffy. She's a slayer, which means she kills vampires and stuff."
"Th-the others thought I was her too."
He smiled. "You look a little bit like her," he said soothingly. "Anyway, she and I are sworn enemies, so we're always trying to kill each other. She's strong for a girl, see? And I thought you were her."
"It's unladylike to fight," she sniffed.
"Tell her that," he said dryly. "She's good at it, though."
"So why hasn't she killed the other vampire? The one who tried to help me?"
He growled softly. "That's her boyfriend. He helps her. He's a traitor to his own kind, is Angel."
"Angel? That's a strange name for a vampire."
"Not because he's an Angel. He was called that because he was 'angel- faced', the great poof."
"He is good-looking," she reasoned, frowning. "But you - you're jealous of him?"
He glanced at her quickly. "D'you know the story of the ugly duckling?" She nodded slowly. "He's always been a swan. I'm the ugly duckling."
"But - the duckling turned into a swan," she said, wide-eyed.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"W-well, y-you're not ugly," stammered Bess. "Maybe you became a swan without realising it?"
He smiled softly. If Buffy was still in there somewhere, she'd be screaming in fury. But Bess - Bess was a sweetheart, he thought to himself. Not quite as dim as he'd thought at first, just scared. Scared of him.
"You're just saying that, aren't you?" She shook her head, blushing. "You actually think I'm good-looking, then?" Buffy was going to hate this. Angel was going to hate this! She nodded, flushing crimson. He smiled at her. "I'm flattered. It's not every day that beautiful girls like you say things like that." She looked down shyly. He made a decision. "Come one, Bess, let's get you home."
"I don't know the way-"
"It's okay, pet, I do, I'll see you home safely. Come along now," he said reassuringly. It was a strange thought - he, a master vampire, walking the Slayer home to make sure she was okay. He really shouldn't care.
As they reached the gate, Bess turned to him and smiled, holding out her hand. "Thank you for walking me home, Mr. - er-"
He kissed the proffered hand in a strangely gallant gesture. "Just call me William," he said, smiling gently.
As Bess walked through the door and Spike turned his back, the watcher knocked over a Roman-style bust in his struggles to free himself. The cords binding him loosened and fell away, and the denizens of Sunnydale returned to normality. At least, as close to normality as they usually managed.
Spike had a nasty surprise awaiting him when he returned to the factory.
*** *** *** *** Buffy decided after patrol to drop in to see Angel. She bounced happily along the path, then stopped in her tracks, frozen in disbelief.
Angel was kissing another girl! A dark-haired girl she'd never seen before, in a long white dress. A sob threatened to choke her and she turned soundlessly and ran.
Running, running, tears blinding her. She cannoned into something - someone - and nearly fell, but an arm steadied her, and she found herself looking up at Spike. He looked as though he, too, had been crying.
"Been to see Angel?" he asked sadly.
She nodded. "He's - with - someone else-"
"Drusilla. MY girl. My Drusilla-" He bit his lip.
Her face crumpled. "I thought he loved me!" she sobbed.
"I thought she loved me," he said, his voice quavering, as he held her. They stood there silently for a while, then he said, "fancy coming for a drive, Bess? I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me."
She hesitated, then nodded. "I need - to get OUT of here, away from this," she said. "I feel trapped - it's like being suffocated."
She was glad of the excuse to get out of Sunnydale, even if it was with Spike. Somehow, she knew the truce would hold, as the breeze from the open car window blew gently in her hair, drying her tears.
They stopped on a hill overlooking Sunnydale. Spike pulled a slightly singed blanket out of the car and laid it on the grass. "For sunlight," he explained in reply to her lifted eyebrows. They sat silently side by side, looking out over the twinkling lights of Sunnydale, knowing that, somewhere down there, Angel and Drusilla were probably in bed.
Buffy dozed, propped up against Spike, until she felt herself being lifted. "Wha-"
"It's okay, love," he soothed. "Nearly dawn. I might not be happy about Angel and Dru, but I'm not ready to be dust yet. And I didn't want to leave you here."
She smiled sleepily. "Oh." She blinked and got into the car, looking at the fading stars. "Thanks," she said awkwardly, as he dropped her home.
He shrugged. "Thanks for the company." He bit his lip. "Hope you manage to work things out."
She nodded. "You too."
She decided to confront Angel, and went round as soon after school as she could. It was barely dark. His eyes opened in shock when he opened the door. "Buffy!"
"Angel."
"I thought - you were-"
"And that's why you were kissing Drusilla last night?" she spat out.
"I - Spike sent me to Drusilla. I thought you were dead, that I'd failed you. She comforted me-"
"Jumped into bed with you," she said baldly. "Lame excuse. Great. Your girlfriend dies, so you jump into bed with someone else's? Charming. A real Prince Charming, you are."
"Buffy, it wasn't like that! I was thinking of you-"
"And that makes it better?" she railed at him.
"No, no it doesn't. But I still love you, I still want to be with you-"
She was furious. "Well, I'll have to think about whether or not I still want to be with you!" She flounced out, slamming the door behind her.
Her feet led her unerringly to the place where she'd bumped into Spike the night before. He was there again, smoking a cigarette moodily. "Been to see Angel again?"
She scuffed the grass angrily. "Yeah. Went to confront him. He said he though I was dead and Drusilla was comforting him. And that he still wants to be with me."
He snorted. "Great! Like that makes you feel better."
She sighed. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "Looked all innocent and said that I'd sent him to be a plaything and she was only playing."
"You really don't like Angel, do you?"
"Does that surprise you? It's not the first time he's tried to get Dru."
She bit her lip. "Fancy going for a drink? Strictly no killing of anyone?"
It was Spike's turn to hesitate. "Okay. Bronze? They do some great food there. Like their chicken wings and ribs."
She smiled. "Okay. Mom's away. Bronze it is." They walked in silence. "How come you eat real food, anyway?" she asked.
"Just - like it," he said. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."
She nodded. "Fair enough."
They sat in a quiet corner, Spike with a beer and Buffy with lemonade, gnawing at their chicken wings and ribs.
"So, is Buffy your real name?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, I'm really Elizabeth, but I got called Beth or Bethy for short. My little cousin couldn't say it, and it came out Beffy. Then her little brother couldn't manage that, when he started to talk, and it turned into Buffy. And the name stuck."
He smiled. "I wondered. So, do you mind me calling you Bess?"
She shook her head. "Not really. How about you call me that when we call a truce - like now? And I'll call you William. Then we both know where we are."
"Okay. By the way, you've got sauce all round your mouth."
"And all over my fingers," she smiled, waggling them at him. With a strange look on his face he took her hand and gently licked and sucked her fingers clean.
Buffy thought her heart would stop. Then she saw Angel coming towards them. "Oh, Christ - it's Angel," she hissed.
"Let me deal with him."
"Buffy? Why are you here with Spike?"
"Pouring my heart out to an understanding ear," she said pointedly.
"Wondered where you'd heard about Dru," he said bitterly. "And now you're sleeping with the enemy."
"Hark at the pot calling the kettle black!" said Spike, his eyes blazing. "And I'd hardly call sharing a plate of chicken wings and ribs as 'sleeping with' anyone."
"You tried to kill her!"
"We've reached an understanding," said Buffy calmly. "At present, we've called a truce. We are - united in our pain."
"So he's comforting you, I suppose?" He hadn't seen Spike licking her fingers.
"What, like Dru comforted you?" spat out Spike. "No, we're having supper together as friends."
"Just friends?" he asked mockingly.
"Just friends," said Buffy evenly.
"Great. Well, as my presence is so obviously not required, I'll remove it." He stalked off, out of the Bronze. Buffy burst into tears.
"Oh, love, I'm sorry," said Spike penitently. "I guess I handled that wrong."
She shook her head. "It's just - I hate - being like this with him. I mean, I know he deserves it, but-"
"You still love him," he said softly. "You want to work things out with him. Like me and Dru." She nodded, biting her lip to stop more tears from falling. "Don't cry, love," he pleaded. "You'll work it out, you'll see. Everything'll work out in the end." He walked her home, stopping at the gate.
"Thanks," she quavered. "It was really nice. Till Angel turned up, anyway."
He patted her arm awkwardly. "Well, took our minds off the whole thing. See you round, Bess."
"Yeah." She leant up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks."
Spike watched her go in, wondering how on earth he'd managed to become friends with the Slayer. Even flirting with her. He shook his head, and turned away.
From the shadows, Angel watched, and relaxed slightly. 'Just my imagination,' he thought. 'Just friends.'
*** *** *** *** Buffy was afraid. Angel had changed completely. 'One night together, the first time they'd.' a tear trickled down her cheek. He'd turned into a complete monster. Okay, Spike had tried to kill her, but it was nothing like this. Spike's attempts were more like a game to keep her on her toes, these days, and he always stopped just short of actually killing her. 'It was - like a dance, in a way. But Angel - Angelus, unsouled, was something else. They'd just managed to get things back on an even keel - and then this.'
She rubbed the tears from her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. There was a rustle behind her, and she spun round, stake at the ready. "Bess." She lowered her hand.
"William! Why-?"
"Heard about Angel." She broke down, flinging her arms round him, sobbing for all she was worth. He held her close, chin resting on the top of her head, murmuring soothingly to her. "Sh, love, sh, I'm here, it's okay, Bess, it's okay, sh, pet."
"Did - did you know-?"
"About losing his soul? The happy clause? No." He gave an unneeded sigh. "If I'd have known, I'd have told you, love. I promise."
She nodded. "Thought so. Just needed to know."
"I know, love. I know," he said sadly.
"I don't know what to do."
"Steer clear of him," he advised. "He's a monster, Bess. Worse than me. He'll drive you mad, just like he did with Dru. Then either kill you or turn you. And your family and friends too, probably."
She shuddered. His arms tightened round her instinctively. "Glad you're here," she whispered.
"I'll do what I can," he said. "But - you may have to prepare yourself-" he bit his lip, "to kill him. If the worst comes to the worst."
She nodded. "I know," she said softly, tears misting her eyes again. "I realised that, when-"
He hugged her. "Try not to think about it. How about going for a drink?" She nodded, relieved. It would be a welcome distraction.
They sat in their usual quiet corner of the Bronze, sipping their drinks slowly. The band was playing sad, slow tunes, which seemed to fit her mood. She finished her drink and sat playing with the glass. Spike gave her a whimsical smile. "Care to dance?"
"Okay."
It was, somehow, so comforting to feel his arms round her as she laid her head on his shoulder, arms winding round his neck. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall, as he held her and swayed with her to the music, pretending not to notice the damp patch on his shoulder growing.
"Feel better, love?" he asked softly as the song ended.
She smiled tremulously. "A bit."
"Want me to walk you home?"
She sniffed. "Okay."
On her pillow, when she got home, was a note that chilled her to the bone. 'Saw you at the Bronze tonight. Beautiful as ever - especially when you cry. A.' She screwed it up into a ball and threw it into the bin. Then, nervously, she pinned garlic by her window, checking her wardrobe and under her bed for 'visitors'. From the tree outside her window, a dark-haired vampire smiled evilly.
*** *** *** *** Spike held her as she sobbed. They hadn't been in time to stop the whole damned business without killing him - even though he'd been resouled. "Never tell anyone!" she sobbed pleadingly. "Don't let them know he had his soul back when I killed him, I couldn't bear it!"
He rocked her gently in his arms like a child, feeling the pain that wracked her. "Course not, Bess. Now, come along and we'll sort things out with your mother."
"No!" She turned and ran, leaving him dumbfounded. 'What did I say?' he thought, getting up to go after her. But she was nowhere to be seen.
He went back to the factory to wait. Dru wasn't there, wouldn't be there ever again, after the fire. Buffy had got Angel out as a priority, then him, but - he bit his lip, remembering. She'd tried to go in after Dru, to get her out, but he'd held her back, knowing the flames were too high, the smoke too thick. And knowing, deep down, that his sire, his lover, his beautiful Drusilla, was already dead.
That had been the fateful night that Angel had tended Buffy's burns, slept with her - and lost his soul. 'It could have been so different,' he thought sadly.
He waited, wondering if he'd hear from her.
Waited.
After a fortnight, there was a postcard. A seascape, with the words, 'I see him every night here in my dreams, saying he'll always be there - even if I kill him. Can't face coming home. Safe and sound, working. Don't tell anyone I've written. Please. Even mom and Giles. Bess.'
He bit his lip, wondering what to do. Go after her? No, she needed the space. He'd just have to wait - until she came back or asked for his help. He propped the postcard up carefully on the TV, where he could see it easily.
And waited.
Eventually, she came back. She still wasn't quite ready for it, but she knew it was the right thing to do. And Joyce was a little more understanding after some of their 'talks'.
He found himself supporting her an awful lot. He knew it should have seemed strange - master vampire looking after grieving slayer - but somehow, it just felt normal. That was what happened. End of story.
Angel managing to come back from the dead wasn't an easy one - for anyone. And that damned Faith - hasty with her stake, that one.
But the cruciamentum was the thing he'd always remember with horror. Well, that and graduation. But the cruciamentum - he shuddered.
He'd been on his way to Revello Drive to see Buffy when he'd seen Kralik with Joyce. Not amusing. He'd followed as fast as he could, anxious that something might happen to her, not realising it was a trap for Buffy.
He'd followed them to the house, and slipped inside. There was a dead, drained body, with two fresh bite marks. 'Two other vampires out there.' He wasn't sure if the dead man had been turned or not. And the Slayer had been weakened, somehow, she'd told him. Unable to fight. He was glad he was the one to deal with it, not her.
There was a sound in the next room. He withdrew into the shadows to see who or what it was. A small, blonde girl appeared, dragging a heavy bag. He was horrified. "Oh, no-" he murmured.
She looked up, startled, afraid. "Who's there?"
"'S okay, Bess, it's me. I followed them here." He came out of the shadows. "They've got your mom."
"I know. They left a note." She held out the photo, crumpled up.
"It's a trap, there's two of them-"
"Cruciamentum."
"What?"
"Cruciamentum. It's a test slayers have to go through when they turn eighteen. Giles told me eventually."
"What - happens?"
"Slayer's banged up in a house, in a weakened state, with a vampire. Fight to the death, one way or the other. If she survives, she passes the test."
"But that's - that's barbaric!" He was appalled. "And Giles willingly put you through this?"
She shook her head. "Not willingly. He wasn't meant to tell me, but he did, thinking they'd call it off. Then they got my mom."
"But you can't fight, you're weak!"
She made a face. "Yeah. Injections. From Giles. Great birthday present."
"Oh, God!"
"I have to get mom out!" she said urgently. "Can you-"
"No way. I'm not leaving you."
"But-"
"I'm not leaving you! Wherever you are, I'll follow and watch your back."
She hesitated. "O-kay," she said finally.
"Give us a stake, then." He prowled behind her as she searched the house, easily staking the first vampire. At her request, he didn't try to intervene again. She wanted to do it herself. He didn't like the idea. Though he rather liked the outcome - Kralik had been a nasty piece of work. And anyway, he liked Joyce.
The next bit he thought on with satisfaction. He'd beaten Travers' ugly hide to the extent that he wouldn't sit comfortably for at least a week. It hadn't made Travers back down, but it had made him look a fool. And - the blond vampire grinned maliciously to himself - he'd felt so much better for it. It didn't surprise him to learn that Travers - who for ever after walked with a limp - had banned the cruciamentum.
And then graduation. At least he'd been some use there - though belatedly. He cursed himself for not getting to Faith before she got to Angel. Well, he dealt with her eventually, the bitch. Three slayers to his tally - the last in revenge for another.
Not that Buffy had died, of course, though it was touch and go after Angel had nearly drained her. He'd had a few sharp words with his grandsire about that little escapade. Not to mention asking him how the hell he could even think of leaving Buffy - especially after doing that to her.
But Angel left her anyway.
Still, it was at graduation he'd met Harmony - turned by a really dumb vampire. She'd looked lost and helpless after he'd staked her sire, and he took pity on her. Well, she was pretty, and they'd had a lot of fun - but it was only because he'd gone out looking for the brainless bint that he'd been caught and chipped.
He grumbled to himself, wondering why he'd ever put up with her inane remarks. Truth be told, he was glad to see the back of her.
Buffy bounced into the crypt. "Brought you some pig's blood," she chirruped.
"You know, you really don't have to," he said, running a hand through his hair.
She smiled. "Just to say thanks again, for helping with Dracula. Y'know."
"Love, that was weeks ago! You don't need to keep on - anyway, I got my eleven quid back. With interest!"
She laughed. "So you keep reminding me!"
He grinned. "So, how's baby sis? Settling in?"
"Yeah. She finds it a bit strange, having lived with dad for so long. But he's away so much now-" She frowned. Somehow, it didn't seem right-
"Ah, well, that's good. Seems a bright little thing."
"Mm."
"You don't get on?"
"Oh - just competition. And mom always wants me to take her when Riley and I go out anywhere. Cramps my style."
"Yeah, s'pose it does. Fancy watching telly for a bit? Get you out of the house?"
"Can't, I'm afraid. So much to do - maybe some other time."
He wondered a little at the sense of disappointment that welled up in him, then shrugged it off. She was seeing Riley, obviously. She was always seeing Riley. It bothered him. 'Stop fooling yourself,' whispered a little voice. 'You're in love with the girl.'
He huffed, and went back to watching TV for a while, before going for a walk. At the end of his trudge in the woods, he saw a familiar figure. No, surely, it couldn't be-?
He went to take a closer look, keeping in the shadows. Riley? At a vampire brothel? He was suddenly angry. "Bastard!" he spat out viciously into the dark. "Isn't she good enough for you, then?" He stomped off to find Buffy.
"Bess, wake up. Wake up, damn you!"
"Whassa marra?"
"Something you need to see. It's Riley."
"Wha-"
"Come ON! And for pity's sake hurry up! Here's some clothes." He threw jeans and a top at her.
"Underwear," she demanded. "Top drawer. And don't look!"
He slung her the first bra and pair of knickers that came to hand, turning to face the wall, tapping his foot impatiently. "Hell, aren't you ready yet?"
"Yes, yes. What's all the fuss about, anyway?"
He took her to see it. See her beloved Riley in the arms of a vampire, paying to have his blood sucked. She flushed angrily, then went white. "Why?" she asked, to no one in particular. "Why did he do this?" She walked away in tears.
A few days later, she crept into his crypt. "He's gone," she said disconsolately. "Left me."
Spike quirked an eyebrow over the top of the book he'd been reading. "Then he's a fool."
She sniffed. "Maybe he had a point."
"Yeah? And maybe I'm the Queen of Sheba. I heard what he said."
"You - how?"
"Little sis came and told me. She was - uh, not amused. She worries about you, you know."
"I'm okay," she snuffled.
"Sure. I believe you. Millions wouldn't." He looked at her. "Stop pretending, love, and cry. Get it out of your system. Here." He handed her a tissue. He wasn't unhappy to see the back of Riley, and, of course, the Initiative, but he hated seeing her like this. "How's your mom?" he asked gently.
"A bit better, I think."
"That's good." He gave her a hug. "Better now?" She nodded.
"I'd better be going home. Uh. I'm having a party on my birthday. Uh - would you like to come?"
He smiled. "I'll be there," he assured her, "if only for a while. I'll pop in for a slice of cake and a drink, though."
She gave him a wobbly smile. "Thanks."
"Any time." And he meant it.
*** *** *** *** The cake was very good, he thought, pausing outside the summers' residence to light a cigarette. He was surprised to hear scrabbling up aloft - even more so to find Dawn sliding down the drainpipe. "Evening, Nibblet," he said, amused. "Where are you off to?"
"Out," she said. "I'm-"
"What? Sneaking off to braid hair and watch the Teletubbies with your mates?"
She glared at him. "No. I'm breaking into the magic shop. To steal things." They bantered a little, as they always did. Then, "Wanna go steal some stuff?"
"Yeah, all right." He didn't, but he was curious. What was she up to?
*** *** *** *** 'Well. So she was the Key! That changed things. Like a good night's telly viewing, when she tried to run away-' thought Spike a week or two later. He thought so even more when the hell-bitch Glory got him. He wasn't going to let her forget that, he thought to himself morosely. 'No way! Or poor Tara.'
He wound in and out of the tunnels till he reached the school, popping up his head safely inside. 'Still, blanket might come in useful,' he thought, wondering where Buffy was. He'd decided that a little surprise was in order to cheer her up.
He bumped into Dawn outside the toilets. "Hey, Bit!"
She grinned. "Spike! How come you're here?"
"Crept through the tunnels to find you and sis, to have lunch with you."
"Cool! We're over-" The side of the building she'd been pointing at through the window disappeared.
"I'm guessing hell-god," said Spike dryly. "Just as well you're not there."
"But - Buffy-" she began, worried.
"Go to my crypt, Bit, and stay there. Under the bed if necessary. Stay there till Buffy or I get there. Now go! Run!"
"But what-"
"Go!" he shouted. She looked scared, then turned and ran.
Spike threw the blanket over his head and ran in the opposite direction, towards the pile of rubble that had once been the wall of the building. Sure enough, there was Glory. "Well, well, if it isn't the hell-bitch," he smirked. "Come for another round, love?" In his mind he was willing Buffy to get the two witches out.
Glory's eyes narrowed. "Not with you, filth. My quarrel is with the little witch here!" She grabbed Willow by the shoulder, making her cry out with pain.
"Any quarrel with her is a quarrel with me," he countered evenly.
"She hurt me!" pouted Glory.
He lit a cigarette, carefully blowing smoke into her face. "Ah, diddums, den! Did a lickle witch hurt oo, den?"
Glory's patience snapped and she made to hit him, but he ducked, managing to burn her arm with his cigarette in the process. He was glad to see Willow ushering Tara out. 'Something big,' he thought. 'Hit her with something big!' Then a drinks machine tipped dangerously. 'Good girl!' he thought exultantly, shoving the hell-god into its path.
He looked down at the berobed form in front of him. As he watched, it morphed into Ben. "Bess, love? Look at this!"
Buffy stared. "But - that's Ben!"
"One and the same," he mused. "Call for an ambulance - oh, and give me the painkillers you've got in your bag."
She gave him a strange look, threw him the bottle of painkillers, and went out. Spike emptied the bottle into his hand, and gently tipped them down Ben's throat. He was beginning to come round and that would never do. "Drink this," he said, almost kindly, holding out the drink that Buffy hadn't quite finished. "That's right, the pills'll make you feel better. Good lad, swallow them down, now." The chip twinged uncertainly, recognising the hell-god within the human.
Ben passed out again as the sirens wailed into earshot. Buffy ran in. "They're here."
"Probably too late," he grinned.
"What? He's dead?" she asked, shocked.
"Uh, love, that was the whole idea!"
"Poor Ben!"
"Ben! That's Glory! They're the same person, don't you remember?"
"Oh!" she frowned. "Something - vaguely - like with Dawn, knowing she's not real, but the memories - so, Ben's dead, means that Glory's - dead?"
"Should do. I'll go to the hospital to make sure. Meanwhile, go get Dawn out of my crypt."
"Uh - right."
Spike hopped into the ambulance with Ben. "Best friend," he said mournfully. "A bit - crazy, these days. See the dress? Took an overdose. And then fell and hit his head." He gave a mock sigh. "But he's my mate, y'know? Gotta stand by your mates." The paramedics nodded sympathetically. One looked askance at the blanket. "Photo-sensitive," he explained with a wise air. "I burn very easily." He tried not to smirk as he said it. The paramedic smiled, understanding.
"Good that you're so careful, sir," he said. "No getting skin cancer for you."
"No, no indeed," replied Spike, inwardly laughing.
He hung around while they pumped Ben's stomach, until he was in a ward. "Ah - nurse," he said smoothly. "Could you direct me to the toilets? Call of nature, you know."
The nurse smiled and directed him. He was pleased to see a storeroom on the way. of which he availed himself. Armed with a few syringes of anaesthetic, he went back to Ben in the intensive care ward. "Sorry about this, old man," he said as he drove the first syringe into Ben's thigh. "You're not a bad bloke, really, but that Glory's a bitch." He emptied the rest of the syringes into the prone body and waited for the life-support machine to go crazy. He looked with satisfaction at the steady line and left the ward, watching quietly, unseen. Unsurprisingly, the doctors couldn't get his heart restarted. The boy was dead.
Spike lit a cigarette and walked jauntily out of the hospital, nicking some bags of blood on the way.
"Glory's gone," he announced to the Scoobies that evening. "Will, got something for Tara." He handed her a slip of paper. "Went to see a demon friend of mine. It should reverse the brain-suck."
Willow took the paper and smiled. "Uh - everyone hold hands round Tara!" Then she read out the words.
Tara blinked. "What happened? Where were you? I thought I'd lost you!"
Willow's eyes misted. "I found you, Tara," she whispered. "I'll always find you!"
The rest of the gang slunk away quickly to give them some time alone.
*** *** *** *** "Seems weird - saving Dawn's life like that," said Spike to Buffy as they ambled back to Revello Drive.
"Not just Dawn's," she said softly. "Maybe mine, Tara's. the whole world, even."
He looked a little abashed. "Even stranger."
"Not our first apocalypse," she said, smiling. "You've helped me out with others, too."
He smiled, puzzled. "This seems - different, somehow. As if - I've changed the course of history, somehow. Defied it." He shrugged it off. "That sounds bizarre!"
She shook her head. "Not really. Maybe you have. I felt like that after killing the Master."
"Yeah? Well, maybe you're right."
She opened the door. "Coming in?"
He hesitated. "Well, uh,"
"Please?"
He smiled. "Okay then." He slumped on the sofa and frowned at the ceiling. "What the hell's that she's playing?"
Buffy laughed. "Some boy band. Don't ask me!"
He growled. "Loada rubbish."
"Tea? Coffee? Chocolate? Blood?"
He smiled. "Chocolate, please."
A film was playing on the TV when she returned. She looked on in amusement. "Dracula? Man, have they got that wrong!" she laughed.
He chuckled. "Yeah, it's so bad it's funny!" They watched some of it, eagerly pointing out to each other the flaws.
Dawn came downstairs. "Going over to see Tara and Willow. I'll be back by midnight!"
"Got a stake?"
"Yep, all staked out," she joked. "Have a nice evening in!" She slammed the door.
"I wish she'd get used to shutting it quietly," groaned Buffy.
"Yeah." He snorted. "Look at that! Biting in slow motion! A real girl would be out of there by now!"
"Not necessarily," said Buffy in a still voice.
"Sorry. Dracula's a bit different, I guess. But normally-"
She smiled. "Even then, sometimes," she said, remembering her near escape from him.
He glanced at her, remembering Angel. "Depends on the situation, I guess."
"Mm."
He flicked over to another channel, where a romantic comedy was just starting. "Mmf. Chick flick."
"I like chick flicks."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay! We watch the chick flick."
It was a film she'd already seen, affording her time to think. She'd sat curled up on the sofa with Spike so many times like this, watching films, laughing at them, drinking hot chocolate in companionable silence. She'd come to look forward to evenings like this. She knew it should seem strange, that the Slayer should have as best friend a soulless vampire. But he'd always been there, picking up the pieces. She felt comfortable with him.
She snuggled up further against him, and he put an arm round her.
So how could she tell him that she - well, liked him? Like that. How could she tell him about the dreams she'd had, of that first Halloween, where he'd almost killed her - except in the dreams he'd bitten her gently, a willing - no, very willing - victim, taking only a little blood, but biting her nonetheless? Dreams of their night under the stars, but in her dreams he'd kissed her. Dreams of that night at the Bronze, of him sucking and licking her fingers clean. She sighed.
"Missing Riley?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "No."
"Really?"
"No, I'm not."
"Missing having someone, though," he suggested as she looked at the screen wistfully.
"N-o, not exactly," she said, flushing slightly. Now or never. "There's a guy - that I - kinda like."
His heart sank. "Oh?" he said brightly. "Do I get to vet him this time?"
"I - really don't think that's necessary," she stammered.
"Maybe I do." The commercial break came on and he flicked back to 'Dracula'. "Hell, what girl dreams about being bitten by a vampire?" he snapped.
"I do," said Buffy, barely audibly.
"Yeah, as a nightmare, but-" he noticed the blush. "You're serious? You dream about it? I mean, like that?" She nodded. "Lucky old Angel," he ground out. "Or is it Dracula?"
"Uh - neither, actually," she mumbled, crimson to the roots of her hair, staring stubbornly at the screen.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, slightly dangerous. "Oh, I see-" Lips brushed the side of her neck, which she bared instinctively. His arms tightened round her. "You dream about me biting you?" She nodded. "And you actually like it?" She nodded again. "And the guy you kinda like is.?"
"You," she blurted out.
"How long?"
"I - uh - I don't know, it's been kind of gradual, since Halloween I suppose, y'know, friendship, then that meant so much more as time went on, and I realised - I guess, when Riley went, I wasn't as upset that he'd gone as maybe I should have been, and seeing the vampire brothel, and remembering Angel and Dracula biting me, I-" She stopped to draw breath.
He smiled. "Shame you didn't say then."
"W-why?"
"We've wasted several weeks that could have been better spent."
She blushed again, but this time looked up at him. "So - you - uh-"
"Feel the same way." Soft, cool lips brushed hers. She closed her eyes and melted into him.
"So - does he pass the test?" she asked slightly shyly. "Is he worthy of being the Slayer's boyfriend?"
He shook his head. "No man is worthy of that," he said softly. "But he'll always be there for you. Always love you. Always be good to you. I promise."
"Then he's worthy," she whispered. Her mouth found his again.
Neither noticed Dawn coming in until she chuckled. "Always thought you two would make a great couple," she teased. "Wondered how long it would be before you realised yourselves."
Spike grinned bashfully up at her while Buffy blushed. "Uh - thanks. I think."
Her sister kissed her goodnight. "Congratulations!" Then she hugged Spike. "Hurt her and I'll stake you," she said.
"Dawn!"
Spike laughed. "I won't hurt her, Bit, don't look so fierce!"
She grinned amiably at them. "Well, night then, guys. Don't make too much noise!" She tripped up to bed, humming a tune under her breath.
Spike nuzzled her neck gently. "Want me to bite you?" he whispered. She nodded, baring her neck. He bent his head to kiss the sensitive skin.
He had her. There she was, lying pinned under him whimpering in desire - the Slayer, the light of his life. Nothing could stop them now.
He bit down, feeling her arms tighten round him as she gasped in shock and delight. Time and space whirled around her until the fangs retracted and he licked the mark clean.
"I love you," she whispered, eyes shining in the soft light.
"I love you too, Bess."
This is quite definitely a "might-have-been" scenario - what might have happened if things had gone wrong in the costume shop. Of course, it might have ended with Spike killing Buffy, but that wouldn't be a terribly interesting fic, so it would have been fairly pointless to let that happen. So instead - something else happens. Read on to find out.
*** *** *** ***
He had her. There she was, lying pinned under him, whimpering in fear - the Slayer, the bane of his existence. Angel couldn't save her now. Nothing could save her now. Not even that bloody watcher of hers.
Which, in fact, was the case. On the other side of town, a desperate Giles was struggling against the cords that Ethan Rayne had used to tie him to the chair before skipping out of town. Or, at least, skipping out of the shop. Giles suddenly wished he hadn't sent Willow away.
Willow found herself trapped by vampires. Somehow, being a ghost hadn't stopped them from dragging her off to Spike's hideout, where Buffy - or rather, the frightened girl who had once been Buffy - was about to be killed.
Spike growled at the intrusion. "Do I have to have a bloody audience?" he yelled. "Get them out of here! Take the humans to a house and guard them. Make sure they don't get away, I'll deal with them later. And him," he nodded towards the struggling Angel. "Take him to Drusilla. She's getting tired of Miss Edith. She'll enjoy a new plaything. And get those damned monsters out of here!" The vampires shuffled out with their prisoners, muttering discontentedly.
Spike turned back to the terrified girl. "P-please don't hurt me!" she stammered, tears misting her eyes.
"Won't hurt much, love," he grinned. "Just like a pinprick. You'll hardly feel a thing."
"No - no, please don't!" The girl struggled ineffectually in his grasp, tears threatening to fall.
Somehow, he could no longer think of her as the Slayer. This was just a frightened girl, caught out of her own time - it wouldn't be fair - 'Since when have you cared about fairness?' sneered a voice in his head. 'She's not really the Slayer,' replied another voice stubbornly. 'So?' 'So - why should I kill her? I've fed already this evening.' 'So keep her till tomorrow.' 'No. Why should I? And where's the fun, the girl's helpless.' The other voice growled in his mind.
The girl was crying. Tears always undid him; he always weakened when Drusilla cried. He loosened his grip slightly. "What's your name, love?"
She blinked up at him, scared. "E-Elizabeth. Lady Elizabeth-"
"Nice name. Mine's William, but most people call me Spike." There was no response from the girl. "Do you have a nickname, or pet name? Lizzy? Beth?"
She snuffled. "Bess."
"Okay, Bess. Stop crying, I'm not going to hurt you." The voice in his mind growled with outrage, but he ignored it.
"Y-you're not? Really?"
He sat beside her, morphing back into his human form, an arm round her waist. "No, love. I thought you were someone else-" he hated himself for saying it, for his weakness, letting her go. "Just a case of mistaken identity."
"O-oh. S-so who-" Bess was still trembling. Somehow, it reminded him a little of Dru, at the start of her illness, making him want to protect her.
"There's a girl called Buffy. She's a slayer, which means she kills vampires and stuff."
"Th-the others thought I was her too."
He smiled. "You look a little bit like her," he said soothingly. "Anyway, she and I are sworn enemies, so we're always trying to kill each other. She's strong for a girl, see? And I thought you were her."
"It's unladylike to fight," she sniffed.
"Tell her that," he said dryly. "She's good at it, though."
"So why hasn't she killed the other vampire? The one who tried to help me?"
He growled softly. "That's her boyfriend. He helps her. He's a traitor to his own kind, is Angel."
"Angel? That's a strange name for a vampire."
"Not because he's an Angel. He was called that because he was 'angel- faced', the great poof."
"He is good-looking," she reasoned, frowning. "But you - you're jealous of him?"
He glanced at her quickly. "D'you know the story of the ugly duckling?" She nodded slowly. "He's always been a swan. I'm the ugly duckling."
"But - the duckling turned into a swan," she said, wide-eyed.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"W-well, y-you're not ugly," stammered Bess. "Maybe you became a swan without realising it?"
He smiled softly. If Buffy was still in there somewhere, she'd be screaming in fury. But Bess - Bess was a sweetheart, he thought to himself. Not quite as dim as he'd thought at first, just scared. Scared of him.
"You're just saying that, aren't you?" She shook her head, blushing. "You actually think I'm good-looking, then?" Buffy was going to hate this. Angel was going to hate this! She nodded, flushing crimson. He smiled at her. "I'm flattered. It's not every day that beautiful girls like you say things like that." She looked down shyly. He made a decision. "Come one, Bess, let's get you home."
"I don't know the way-"
"It's okay, pet, I do, I'll see you home safely. Come along now," he said reassuringly. It was a strange thought - he, a master vampire, walking the Slayer home to make sure she was okay. He really shouldn't care.
As they reached the gate, Bess turned to him and smiled, holding out her hand. "Thank you for walking me home, Mr. - er-"
He kissed the proffered hand in a strangely gallant gesture. "Just call me William," he said, smiling gently.
As Bess walked through the door and Spike turned his back, the watcher knocked over a Roman-style bust in his struggles to free himself. The cords binding him loosened and fell away, and the denizens of Sunnydale returned to normality. At least, as close to normality as they usually managed.
Spike had a nasty surprise awaiting him when he returned to the factory.
*** *** *** *** Buffy decided after patrol to drop in to see Angel. She bounced happily along the path, then stopped in her tracks, frozen in disbelief.
Angel was kissing another girl! A dark-haired girl she'd never seen before, in a long white dress. A sob threatened to choke her and she turned soundlessly and ran.
Running, running, tears blinding her. She cannoned into something - someone - and nearly fell, but an arm steadied her, and she found herself looking up at Spike. He looked as though he, too, had been crying.
"Been to see Angel?" he asked sadly.
She nodded. "He's - with - someone else-"
"Drusilla. MY girl. My Drusilla-" He bit his lip.
Her face crumpled. "I thought he loved me!" she sobbed.
"I thought she loved me," he said, his voice quavering, as he held her. They stood there silently for a while, then he said, "fancy coming for a drive, Bess? I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me."
She hesitated, then nodded. "I need - to get OUT of here, away from this," she said. "I feel trapped - it's like being suffocated."
She was glad of the excuse to get out of Sunnydale, even if it was with Spike. Somehow, she knew the truce would hold, as the breeze from the open car window blew gently in her hair, drying her tears.
They stopped on a hill overlooking Sunnydale. Spike pulled a slightly singed blanket out of the car and laid it on the grass. "For sunlight," he explained in reply to her lifted eyebrows. They sat silently side by side, looking out over the twinkling lights of Sunnydale, knowing that, somewhere down there, Angel and Drusilla were probably in bed.
Buffy dozed, propped up against Spike, until she felt herself being lifted. "Wha-"
"It's okay, love," he soothed. "Nearly dawn. I might not be happy about Angel and Dru, but I'm not ready to be dust yet. And I didn't want to leave you here."
She smiled sleepily. "Oh." She blinked and got into the car, looking at the fading stars. "Thanks," she said awkwardly, as he dropped her home.
He shrugged. "Thanks for the company." He bit his lip. "Hope you manage to work things out."
She nodded. "You too."
She decided to confront Angel, and went round as soon after school as she could. It was barely dark. His eyes opened in shock when he opened the door. "Buffy!"
"Angel."
"I thought - you were-"
"And that's why you were kissing Drusilla last night?" she spat out.
"I - Spike sent me to Drusilla. I thought you were dead, that I'd failed you. She comforted me-"
"Jumped into bed with you," she said baldly. "Lame excuse. Great. Your girlfriend dies, so you jump into bed with someone else's? Charming. A real Prince Charming, you are."
"Buffy, it wasn't like that! I was thinking of you-"
"And that makes it better?" she railed at him.
"No, no it doesn't. But I still love you, I still want to be with you-"
She was furious. "Well, I'll have to think about whether or not I still want to be with you!" She flounced out, slamming the door behind her.
Her feet led her unerringly to the place where she'd bumped into Spike the night before. He was there again, smoking a cigarette moodily. "Been to see Angel again?"
She scuffed the grass angrily. "Yeah. Went to confront him. He said he though I was dead and Drusilla was comforting him. And that he still wants to be with me."
He snorted. "Great! Like that makes you feel better."
She sighed. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "Looked all innocent and said that I'd sent him to be a plaything and she was only playing."
"You really don't like Angel, do you?"
"Does that surprise you? It's not the first time he's tried to get Dru."
She bit her lip. "Fancy going for a drink? Strictly no killing of anyone?"
It was Spike's turn to hesitate. "Okay. Bronze? They do some great food there. Like their chicken wings and ribs."
She smiled. "Okay. Mom's away. Bronze it is." They walked in silence. "How come you eat real food, anyway?" she asked.
"Just - like it," he said. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."
She nodded. "Fair enough."
They sat in a quiet corner, Spike with a beer and Buffy with lemonade, gnawing at their chicken wings and ribs.
"So, is Buffy your real name?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, I'm really Elizabeth, but I got called Beth or Bethy for short. My little cousin couldn't say it, and it came out Beffy. Then her little brother couldn't manage that, when he started to talk, and it turned into Buffy. And the name stuck."
He smiled. "I wondered. So, do you mind me calling you Bess?"
She shook her head. "Not really. How about you call me that when we call a truce - like now? And I'll call you William. Then we both know where we are."
"Okay. By the way, you've got sauce all round your mouth."
"And all over my fingers," she smiled, waggling them at him. With a strange look on his face he took her hand and gently licked and sucked her fingers clean.
Buffy thought her heart would stop. Then she saw Angel coming towards them. "Oh, Christ - it's Angel," she hissed.
"Let me deal with him."
"Buffy? Why are you here with Spike?"
"Pouring my heart out to an understanding ear," she said pointedly.
"Wondered where you'd heard about Dru," he said bitterly. "And now you're sleeping with the enemy."
"Hark at the pot calling the kettle black!" said Spike, his eyes blazing. "And I'd hardly call sharing a plate of chicken wings and ribs as 'sleeping with' anyone."
"You tried to kill her!"
"We've reached an understanding," said Buffy calmly. "At present, we've called a truce. We are - united in our pain."
"So he's comforting you, I suppose?" He hadn't seen Spike licking her fingers.
"What, like Dru comforted you?" spat out Spike. "No, we're having supper together as friends."
"Just friends?" he asked mockingly.
"Just friends," said Buffy evenly.
"Great. Well, as my presence is so obviously not required, I'll remove it." He stalked off, out of the Bronze. Buffy burst into tears.
"Oh, love, I'm sorry," said Spike penitently. "I guess I handled that wrong."
She shook her head. "It's just - I hate - being like this with him. I mean, I know he deserves it, but-"
"You still love him," he said softly. "You want to work things out with him. Like me and Dru." She nodded, biting her lip to stop more tears from falling. "Don't cry, love," he pleaded. "You'll work it out, you'll see. Everything'll work out in the end." He walked her home, stopping at the gate.
"Thanks," she quavered. "It was really nice. Till Angel turned up, anyway."
He patted her arm awkwardly. "Well, took our minds off the whole thing. See you round, Bess."
"Yeah." She leant up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks."
Spike watched her go in, wondering how on earth he'd managed to become friends with the Slayer. Even flirting with her. He shook his head, and turned away.
From the shadows, Angel watched, and relaxed slightly. 'Just my imagination,' he thought. 'Just friends.'
*** *** *** *** Buffy was afraid. Angel had changed completely. 'One night together, the first time they'd.' a tear trickled down her cheek. He'd turned into a complete monster. Okay, Spike had tried to kill her, but it was nothing like this. Spike's attempts were more like a game to keep her on her toes, these days, and he always stopped just short of actually killing her. 'It was - like a dance, in a way. But Angel - Angelus, unsouled, was something else. They'd just managed to get things back on an even keel - and then this.'
She rubbed the tears from her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. There was a rustle behind her, and she spun round, stake at the ready. "Bess." She lowered her hand.
"William! Why-?"
"Heard about Angel." She broke down, flinging her arms round him, sobbing for all she was worth. He held her close, chin resting on the top of her head, murmuring soothingly to her. "Sh, love, sh, I'm here, it's okay, Bess, it's okay, sh, pet."
"Did - did you know-?"
"About losing his soul? The happy clause? No." He gave an unneeded sigh. "If I'd have known, I'd have told you, love. I promise."
She nodded. "Thought so. Just needed to know."
"I know, love. I know," he said sadly.
"I don't know what to do."
"Steer clear of him," he advised. "He's a monster, Bess. Worse than me. He'll drive you mad, just like he did with Dru. Then either kill you or turn you. And your family and friends too, probably."
She shuddered. His arms tightened round her instinctively. "Glad you're here," she whispered.
"I'll do what I can," he said. "But - you may have to prepare yourself-" he bit his lip, "to kill him. If the worst comes to the worst."
She nodded. "I know," she said softly, tears misting her eyes again. "I realised that, when-"
He hugged her. "Try not to think about it. How about going for a drink?" She nodded, relieved. It would be a welcome distraction.
They sat in their usual quiet corner of the Bronze, sipping their drinks slowly. The band was playing sad, slow tunes, which seemed to fit her mood. She finished her drink and sat playing with the glass. Spike gave her a whimsical smile. "Care to dance?"
"Okay."
It was, somehow, so comforting to feel his arms round her as she laid her head on his shoulder, arms winding round his neck. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall, as he held her and swayed with her to the music, pretending not to notice the damp patch on his shoulder growing.
"Feel better, love?" he asked softly as the song ended.
She smiled tremulously. "A bit."
"Want me to walk you home?"
She sniffed. "Okay."
On her pillow, when she got home, was a note that chilled her to the bone. 'Saw you at the Bronze tonight. Beautiful as ever - especially when you cry. A.' She screwed it up into a ball and threw it into the bin. Then, nervously, she pinned garlic by her window, checking her wardrobe and under her bed for 'visitors'. From the tree outside her window, a dark-haired vampire smiled evilly.
*** *** *** *** Spike held her as she sobbed. They hadn't been in time to stop the whole damned business without killing him - even though he'd been resouled. "Never tell anyone!" she sobbed pleadingly. "Don't let them know he had his soul back when I killed him, I couldn't bear it!"
He rocked her gently in his arms like a child, feeling the pain that wracked her. "Course not, Bess. Now, come along and we'll sort things out with your mother."
"No!" She turned and ran, leaving him dumbfounded. 'What did I say?' he thought, getting up to go after her. But she was nowhere to be seen.
He went back to the factory to wait. Dru wasn't there, wouldn't be there ever again, after the fire. Buffy had got Angel out as a priority, then him, but - he bit his lip, remembering. She'd tried to go in after Dru, to get her out, but he'd held her back, knowing the flames were too high, the smoke too thick. And knowing, deep down, that his sire, his lover, his beautiful Drusilla, was already dead.
That had been the fateful night that Angel had tended Buffy's burns, slept with her - and lost his soul. 'It could have been so different,' he thought sadly.
He waited, wondering if he'd hear from her.
Waited.
After a fortnight, there was a postcard. A seascape, with the words, 'I see him every night here in my dreams, saying he'll always be there - even if I kill him. Can't face coming home. Safe and sound, working. Don't tell anyone I've written. Please. Even mom and Giles. Bess.'
He bit his lip, wondering what to do. Go after her? No, she needed the space. He'd just have to wait - until she came back or asked for his help. He propped the postcard up carefully on the TV, where he could see it easily.
And waited.
Eventually, she came back. She still wasn't quite ready for it, but she knew it was the right thing to do. And Joyce was a little more understanding after some of their 'talks'.
He found himself supporting her an awful lot. He knew it should have seemed strange - master vampire looking after grieving slayer - but somehow, it just felt normal. That was what happened. End of story.
Angel managing to come back from the dead wasn't an easy one - for anyone. And that damned Faith - hasty with her stake, that one.
But the cruciamentum was the thing he'd always remember with horror. Well, that and graduation. But the cruciamentum - he shuddered.
He'd been on his way to Revello Drive to see Buffy when he'd seen Kralik with Joyce. Not amusing. He'd followed as fast as he could, anxious that something might happen to her, not realising it was a trap for Buffy.
He'd followed them to the house, and slipped inside. There was a dead, drained body, with two fresh bite marks. 'Two other vampires out there.' He wasn't sure if the dead man had been turned or not. And the Slayer had been weakened, somehow, she'd told him. Unable to fight. He was glad he was the one to deal with it, not her.
There was a sound in the next room. He withdrew into the shadows to see who or what it was. A small, blonde girl appeared, dragging a heavy bag. He was horrified. "Oh, no-" he murmured.
She looked up, startled, afraid. "Who's there?"
"'S okay, Bess, it's me. I followed them here." He came out of the shadows. "They've got your mom."
"I know. They left a note." She held out the photo, crumpled up.
"It's a trap, there's two of them-"
"Cruciamentum."
"What?"
"Cruciamentum. It's a test slayers have to go through when they turn eighteen. Giles told me eventually."
"What - happens?"
"Slayer's banged up in a house, in a weakened state, with a vampire. Fight to the death, one way or the other. If she survives, she passes the test."
"But that's - that's barbaric!" He was appalled. "And Giles willingly put you through this?"
She shook her head. "Not willingly. He wasn't meant to tell me, but he did, thinking they'd call it off. Then they got my mom."
"But you can't fight, you're weak!"
She made a face. "Yeah. Injections. From Giles. Great birthday present."
"Oh, God!"
"I have to get mom out!" she said urgently. "Can you-"
"No way. I'm not leaving you."
"But-"
"I'm not leaving you! Wherever you are, I'll follow and watch your back."
She hesitated. "O-kay," she said finally.
"Give us a stake, then." He prowled behind her as she searched the house, easily staking the first vampire. At her request, he didn't try to intervene again. She wanted to do it herself. He didn't like the idea. Though he rather liked the outcome - Kralik had been a nasty piece of work. And anyway, he liked Joyce.
The next bit he thought on with satisfaction. He'd beaten Travers' ugly hide to the extent that he wouldn't sit comfortably for at least a week. It hadn't made Travers back down, but it had made him look a fool. And - the blond vampire grinned maliciously to himself - he'd felt so much better for it. It didn't surprise him to learn that Travers - who for ever after walked with a limp - had banned the cruciamentum.
And then graduation. At least he'd been some use there - though belatedly. He cursed himself for not getting to Faith before she got to Angel. Well, he dealt with her eventually, the bitch. Three slayers to his tally - the last in revenge for another.
Not that Buffy had died, of course, though it was touch and go after Angel had nearly drained her. He'd had a few sharp words with his grandsire about that little escapade. Not to mention asking him how the hell he could even think of leaving Buffy - especially after doing that to her.
But Angel left her anyway.
Still, it was at graduation he'd met Harmony - turned by a really dumb vampire. She'd looked lost and helpless after he'd staked her sire, and he took pity on her. Well, she was pretty, and they'd had a lot of fun - but it was only because he'd gone out looking for the brainless bint that he'd been caught and chipped.
He grumbled to himself, wondering why he'd ever put up with her inane remarks. Truth be told, he was glad to see the back of her.
Buffy bounced into the crypt. "Brought you some pig's blood," she chirruped.
"You know, you really don't have to," he said, running a hand through his hair.
She smiled. "Just to say thanks again, for helping with Dracula. Y'know."
"Love, that was weeks ago! You don't need to keep on - anyway, I got my eleven quid back. With interest!"
She laughed. "So you keep reminding me!"
He grinned. "So, how's baby sis? Settling in?"
"Yeah. She finds it a bit strange, having lived with dad for so long. But he's away so much now-" She frowned. Somehow, it didn't seem right-
"Ah, well, that's good. Seems a bright little thing."
"Mm."
"You don't get on?"
"Oh - just competition. And mom always wants me to take her when Riley and I go out anywhere. Cramps my style."
"Yeah, s'pose it does. Fancy watching telly for a bit? Get you out of the house?"
"Can't, I'm afraid. So much to do - maybe some other time."
He wondered a little at the sense of disappointment that welled up in him, then shrugged it off. She was seeing Riley, obviously. She was always seeing Riley. It bothered him. 'Stop fooling yourself,' whispered a little voice. 'You're in love with the girl.'
He huffed, and went back to watching TV for a while, before going for a walk. At the end of his trudge in the woods, he saw a familiar figure. No, surely, it couldn't be-?
He went to take a closer look, keeping in the shadows. Riley? At a vampire brothel? He was suddenly angry. "Bastard!" he spat out viciously into the dark. "Isn't she good enough for you, then?" He stomped off to find Buffy.
"Bess, wake up. Wake up, damn you!"
"Whassa marra?"
"Something you need to see. It's Riley."
"Wha-"
"Come ON! And for pity's sake hurry up! Here's some clothes." He threw jeans and a top at her.
"Underwear," she demanded. "Top drawer. And don't look!"
He slung her the first bra and pair of knickers that came to hand, turning to face the wall, tapping his foot impatiently. "Hell, aren't you ready yet?"
"Yes, yes. What's all the fuss about, anyway?"
He took her to see it. See her beloved Riley in the arms of a vampire, paying to have his blood sucked. She flushed angrily, then went white. "Why?" she asked, to no one in particular. "Why did he do this?" She walked away in tears.
A few days later, she crept into his crypt. "He's gone," she said disconsolately. "Left me."
Spike quirked an eyebrow over the top of the book he'd been reading. "Then he's a fool."
She sniffed. "Maybe he had a point."
"Yeah? And maybe I'm the Queen of Sheba. I heard what he said."
"You - how?"
"Little sis came and told me. She was - uh, not amused. She worries about you, you know."
"I'm okay," she snuffled.
"Sure. I believe you. Millions wouldn't." He looked at her. "Stop pretending, love, and cry. Get it out of your system. Here." He handed her a tissue. He wasn't unhappy to see the back of Riley, and, of course, the Initiative, but he hated seeing her like this. "How's your mom?" he asked gently.
"A bit better, I think."
"That's good." He gave her a hug. "Better now?" She nodded.
"I'd better be going home. Uh. I'm having a party on my birthday. Uh - would you like to come?"
He smiled. "I'll be there," he assured her, "if only for a while. I'll pop in for a slice of cake and a drink, though."
She gave him a wobbly smile. "Thanks."
"Any time." And he meant it.
*** *** *** *** The cake was very good, he thought, pausing outside the summers' residence to light a cigarette. He was surprised to hear scrabbling up aloft - even more so to find Dawn sliding down the drainpipe. "Evening, Nibblet," he said, amused. "Where are you off to?"
"Out," she said. "I'm-"
"What? Sneaking off to braid hair and watch the Teletubbies with your mates?"
She glared at him. "No. I'm breaking into the magic shop. To steal things." They bantered a little, as they always did. Then, "Wanna go steal some stuff?"
"Yeah, all right." He didn't, but he was curious. What was she up to?
*** *** *** *** 'Well. So she was the Key! That changed things. Like a good night's telly viewing, when she tried to run away-' thought Spike a week or two later. He thought so even more when the hell-bitch Glory got him. He wasn't going to let her forget that, he thought to himself morosely. 'No way! Or poor Tara.'
He wound in and out of the tunnels till he reached the school, popping up his head safely inside. 'Still, blanket might come in useful,' he thought, wondering where Buffy was. He'd decided that a little surprise was in order to cheer her up.
He bumped into Dawn outside the toilets. "Hey, Bit!"
She grinned. "Spike! How come you're here?"
"Crept through the tunnels to find you and sis, to have lunch with you."
"Cool! We're over-" The side of the building she'd been pointing at through the window disappeared.
"I'm guessing hell-god," said Spike dryly. "Just as well you're not there."
"But - Buffy-" she began, worried.
"Go to my crypt, Bit, and stay there. Under the bed if necessary. Stay there till Buffy or I get there. Now go! Run!"
"But what-"
"Go!" he shouted. She looked scared, then turned and ran.
Spike threw the blanket over his head and ran in the opposite direction, towards the pile of rubble that had once been the wall of the building. Sure enough, there was Glory. "Well, well, if it isn't the hell-bitch," he smirked. "Come for another round, love?" In his mind he was willing Buffy to get the two witches out.
Glory's eyes narrowed. "Not with you, filth. My quarrel is with the little witch here!" She grabbed Willow by the shoulder, making her cry out with pain.
"Any quarrel with her is a quarrel with me," he countered evenly.
"She hurt me!" pouted Glory.
He lit a cigarette, carefully blowing smoke into her face. "Ah, diddums, den! Did a lickle witch hurt oo, den?"
Glory's patience snapped and she made to hit him, but he ducked, managing to burn her arm with his cigarette in the process. He was glad to see Willow ushering Tara out. 'Something big,' he thought. 'Hit her with something big!' Then a drinks machine tipped dangerously. 'Good girl!' he thought exultantly, shoving the hell-god into its path.
He looked down at the berobed form in front of him. As he watched, it morphed into Ben. "Bess, love? Look at this!"
Buffy stared. "But - that's Ben!"
"One and the same," he mused. "Call for an ambulance - oh, and give me the painkillers you've got in your bag."
She gave him a strange look, threw him the bottle of painkillers, and went out. Spike emptied the bottle into his hand, and gently tipped them down Ben's throat. He was beginning to come round and that would never do. "Drink this," he said, almost kindly, holding out the drink that Buffy hadn't quite finished. "That's right, the pills'll make you feel better. Good lad, swallow them down, now." The chip twinged uncertainly, recognising the hell-god within the human.
Ben passed out again as the sirens wailed into earshot. Buffy ran in. "They're here."
"Probably too late," he grinned.
"What? He's dead?" she asked, shocked.
"Uh, love, that was the whole idea!"
"Poor Ben!"
"Ben! That's Glory! They're the same person, don't you remember?"
"Oh!" she frowned. "Something - vaguely - like with Dawn, knowing she's not real, but the memories - so, Ben's dead, means that Glory's - dead?"
"Should do. I'll go to the hospital to make sure. Meanwhile, go get Dawn out of my crypt."
"Uh - right."
Spike hopped into the ambulance with Ben. "Best friend," he said mournfully. "A bit - crazy, these days. See the dress? Took an overdose. And then fell and hit his head." He gave a mock sigh. "But he's my mate, y'know? Gotta stand by your mates." The paramedics nodded sympathetically. One looked askance at the blanket. "Photo-sensitive," he explained with a wise air. "I burn very easily." He tried not to smirk as he said it. The paramedic smiled, understanding.
"Good that you're so careful, sir," he said. "No getting skin cancer for you."
"No, no indeed," replied Spike, inwardly laughing.
He hung around while they pumped Ben's stomach, until he was in a ward. "Ah - nurse," he said smoothly. "Could you direct me to the toilets? Call of nature, you know."
The nurse smiled and directed him. He was pleased to see a storeroom on the way. of which he availed himself. Armed with a few syringes of anaesthetic, he went back to Ben in the intensive care ward. "Sorry about this, old man," he said as he drove the first syringe into Ben's thigh. "You're not a bad bloke, really, but that Glory's a bitch." He emptied the rest of the syringes into the prone body and waited for the life-support machine to go crazy. He looked with satisfaction at the steady line and left the ward, watching quietly, unseen. Unsurprisingly, the doctors couldn't get his heart restarted. The boy was dead.
Spike lit a cigarette and walked jauntily out of the hospital, nicking some bags of blood on the way.
"Glory's gone," he announced to the Scoobies that evening. "Will, got something for Tara." He handed her a slip of paper. "Went to see a demon friend of mine. It should reverse the brain-suck."
Willow took the paper and smiled. "Uh - everyone hold hands round Tara!" Then she read out the words.
Tara blinked. "What happened? Where were you? I thought I'd lost you!"
Willow's eyes misted. "I found you, Tara," she whispered. "I'll always find you!"
The rest of the gang slunk away quickly to give them some time alone.
*** *** *** *** "Seems weird - saving Dawn's life like that," said Spike to Buffy as they ambled back to Revello Drive.
"Not just Dawn's," she said softly. "Maybe mine, Tara's. the whole world, even."
He looked a little abashed. "Even stranger."
"Not our first apocalypse," she said, smiling. "You've helped me out with others, too."
He smiled, puzzled. "This seems - different, somehow. As if - I've changed the course of history, somehow. Defied it." He shrugged it off. "That sounds bizarre!"
She shook her head. "Not really. Maybe you have. I felt like that after killing the Master."
"Yeah? Well, maybe you're right."
She opened the door. "Coming in?"
He hesitated. "Well, uh,"
"Please?"
He smiled. "Okay then." He slumped on the sofa and frowned at the ceiling. "What the hell's that she's playing?"
Buffy laughed. "Some boy band. Don't ask me!"
He growled. "Loada rubbish."
"Tea? Coffee? Chocolate? Blood?"
He smiled. "Chocolate, please."
A film was playing on the TV when she returned. She looked on in amusement. "Dracula? Man, have they got that wrong!" she laughed.
He chuckled. "Yeah, it's so bad it's funny!" They watched some of it, eagerly pointing out to each other the flaws.
Dawn came downstairs. "Going over to see Tara and Willow. I'll be back by midnight!"
"Got a stake?"
"Yep, all staked out," she joked. "Have a nice evening in!" She slammed the door.
"I wish she'd get used to shutting it quietly," groaned Buffy.
"Yeah." He snorted. "Look at that! Biting in slow motion! A real girl would be out of there by now!"
"Not necessarily," said Buffy in a still voice.
"Sorry. Dracula's a bit different, I guess. But normally-"
She smiled. "Even then, sometimes," she said, remembering her near escape from him.
He glanced at her, remembering Angel. "Depends on the situation, I guess."
"Mm."
He flicked over to another channel, where a romantic comedy was just starting. "Mmf. Chick flick."
"I like chick flicks."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay! We watch the chick flick."
It was a film she'd already seen, affording her time to think. She'd sat curled up on the sofa with Spike so many times like this, watching films, laughing at them, drinking hot chocolate in companionable silence. She'd come to look forward to evenings like this. She knew it should seem strange, that the Slayer should have as best friend a soulless vampire. But he'd always been there, picking up the pieces. She felt comfortable with him.
She snuggled up further against him, and he put an arm round her.
So how could she tell him that she - well, liked him? Like that. How could she tell him about the dreams she'd had, of that first Halloween, where he'd almost killed her - except in the dreams he'd bitten her gently, a willing - no, very willing - victim, taking only a little blood, but biting her nonetheless? Dreams of their night under the stars, but in her dreams he'd kissed her. Dreams of that night at the Bronze, of him sucking and licking her fingers clean. She sighed.
"Missing Riley?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "No."
"Really?"
"No, I'm not."
"Missing having someone, though," he suggested as she looked at the screen wistfully.
"N-o, not exactly," she said, flushing slightly. Now or never. "There's a guy - that I - kinda like."
His heart sank. "Oh?" he said brightly. "Do I get to vet him this time?"
"I - really don't think that's necessary," she stammered.
"Maybe I do." The commercial break came on and he flicked back to 'Dracula'. "Hell, what girl dreams about being bitten by a vampire?" he snapped.
"I do," said Buffy, barely audibly.
"Yeah, as a nightmare, but-" he noticed the blush. "You're serious? You dream about it? I mean, like that?" She nodded. "Lucky old Angel," he ground out. "Or is it Dracula?"
"Uh - neither, actually," she mumbled, crimson to the roots of her hair, staring stubbornly at the screen.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, slightly dangerous. "Oh, I see-" Lips brushed the side of her neck, which she bared instinctively. His arms tightened round her. "You dream about me biting you?" She nodded. "And you actually like it?" She nodded again. "And the guy you kinda like is.?"
"You," she blurted out.
"How long?"
"I - uh - I don't know, it's been kind of gradual, since Halloween I suppose, y'know, friendship, then that meant so much more as time went on, and I realised - I guess, when Riley went, I wasn't as upset that he'd gone as maybe I should have been, and seeing the vampire brothel, and remembering Angel and Dracula biting me, I-" She stopped to draw breath.
He smiled. "Shame you didn't say then."
"W-why?"
"We've wasted several weeks that could have been better spent."
She blushed again, but this time looked up at him. "So - you - uh-"
"Feel the same way." Soft, cool lips brushed hers. She closed her eyes and melted into him.
"So - does he pass the test?" she asked slightly shyly. "Is he worthy of being the Slayer's boyfriend?"
He shook his head. "No man is worthy of that," he said softly. "But he'll always be there for you. Always love you. Always be good to you. I promise."
"Then he's worthy," she whispered. Her mouth found his again.
Neither noticed Dawn coming in until she chuckled. "Always thought you two would make a great couple," she teased. "Wondered how long it would be before you realised yourselves."
Spike grinned bashfully up at her while Buffy blushed. "Uh - thanks. I think."
Her sister kissed her goodnight. "Congratulations!" Then she hugged Spike. "Hurt her and I'll stake you," she said.
"Dawn!"
Spike laughed. "I won't hurt her, Bit, don't look so fierce!"
She grinned amiably at them. "Well, night then, guys. Don't make too much noise!" She tripped up to bed, humming a tune under her breath.
Spike nuzzled her neck gently. "Want me to bite you?" he whispered. She nodded, baring her neck. He bent his head to kiss the sensitive skin.
He had her. There she was, lying pinned under him whimpering in desire - the Slayer, the light of his life. Nothing could stop them now.
He bit down, feeling her arms tighten round him as she gasped in shock and delight. Time and space whirled around her until the fangs retracted and he licked the mark clean.
"I love you," she whispered, eyes shining in the soft light.
"I love you too, Bess."
