In the Name of Love

By Tales of Spike

Spoilers: Story started just prior to As You Were and runs through to the end of Hells Bells. From there on the story goes AU, so Normal Again, Entropy etc. haven't happened and won't.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss and his friends own everything and everyone.

A/N: I think maybe there's been some confusion about different contracts. Way back in chapter 6 Spike managed to coerce Travers' lawyers into sending the contract that was used to trick him into keeping the eggs, to his LA hotel. Physically, that contract is assumed to be in the possession of Wesley, who was doing some research on it. Okay, Spike has since found out that it rightfully belongs to Ronnie, whether he admits to her that he has it or not remains to be seen. We don't know whether any "magic" inherent to the contract itself, if it ever had any, has been used up.

Contract No2, the one causing problems at this stage of the story is a "contract" in the mob sense of the word; the contract which has been taken out on Spike's life. i.e. Travers hiring the Order of Taraka to assassinate him. Hope this clears any confusion.

Feedback: I'd really like feedback, I get all insecure without it and start to think no one's reading this crap I produce, so bring it on at Sandy.Osborne@blueyonder.co.uk.

Chapter 18

Giles' sleep was troubled. He had killed in the past, so he knew that wasn't the problem. Given the same choice he would do so again. By his very existence, Ben had been a danger to Buffy, so Giles had killed him. It was simple. Ben's guilt or innocence, good and evil, these were all just irrelevant abstract concepts. If a stranger had to die to safeguard the life of his surrogate daughter then Giles wouldn't hesitate. He could argue that it was logic, that he'd done it because keeping Buffy alive or preventing Glory's return helped the greater good. He could say that, but it wouldn't be true. He'd done it because he had a father's love for the child. The words Quentin Travers had used when he fired him.

If he had to decide between Spike and Travers… well, he certainly didn't love either of them. Logic didn't help much either. Giles had no idea why Travers wanted Spike dead. For all he knew Spike may deserve everything that was coming to him. Although surely if that were the case Travers could just make known whatever crimes the vampire had committed and it would then be up to the slayer to dispense justice in the form of a stake.

If he had to rate the two as to which was more evil at that point in time, then they would probably have been roughly on a par but maybe Quentin would have had the edge.

Spike had the greater potential for good if he could cope without the chip and continued to help the slayer. However he also had the greater potential for evil. If he failed to adapt to life without the chip and his self-control broke, he could have become the scourge of Europe again, or the whole damn world if he chose to. On a good day, without the chip, Spike could walk straight into any of the smaller cities in the world and set himself up as master. The bigger cities might actually take some work.

When it comes to past sins Spike certainly had more to answer for.

Giles was sworn to protect humanity from the forces of darkness and at the end of the day Travers was human and Spike was a vampire.

Logic could be used to argue this any way you wanted it to be, but other than wanting to do what's best for Buffy, Giles didn't know what he wanted. So should he be protecting her from Spike or letting Spike protect her? God only knows… He could only hope that Buffy or one of her friends came up with an alternative.

He still hadn't slept when the phone rang at seven thirty. Olivia answered, but quickly passed the phone to him. "Buffy," she informed him.

"Hello, Buffy. How are you?"

"Just peachy, Giles, Just peachy?"

"Is this to do with Spike?"

"Not really. It's Dawn. I've been trying to contact you since this morning, but it was only when Spike rang that I found out where to get in touch with you."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Giles, we need to find out how we can tell if she has a soul."

"Oh dear lord."

Had he got as far as putting them on Giles would have removed his glasses and cleaned them. As it was he pinched the bridge of his nose. Apart from the fact he hadn't been knocked unconscious lately, he could almost believe he was back on the Hellmouth.

* * * * *

Buffy called a greeting to Anya as she entered the shop, and then waited until she had finished serving her customer before going over to speak to her.

"Hi, Anya. Has the shop been busy today?"

"Not really, but I did sell one large icon at a large mark-up on trade price so I should do quite well over all."

"Oh, good, I think. Anya are you sure you're okay with us holding the Scooby meeting here tonight?"

Anya nipped fretfully at her lower lip, but nodded. "I still look after all Giles books and things, so you and the… others need to be able to use them. I'll just stay with the money out of the way. I can do research tomorrow if there are any quiet periods."

"Xander might not come. Dawn and I had a bit of an argument with him yesterday, which is kind of why we're having the meeting, but I'll explain later or Dawn will. No one's spoken to him since; I got his machine when I rang… I don't know whether it makes it better or worse for you if he doesn't come…"

"I don't know either." Anya's tone seemed to suggest that when things were this bad, there was no worse.

"I see you got a visit from the flower fairy." Buffy nodded in the direction of the research table where Anya's roses had pride of place.

"That's another myth, there are no flower fairies. A deliveryman brought them from the florist's."

"Ohhh-kay. If Xander does come tonight though, I think it might be as well if I move them out of his way just the same. I think Spike's not one of his favourite people right now… or ever, actually."

"No, he's not." Anya shrugged, expressing her lack of comprehension.

"There's something to do with Spike I need to talk to you about. I have this idea… which, with a bit of help, might become a plan…" Buffy told Anya about the course of action she'd been contemplating, getting Anya's assessment of the situation before she went too far in her planning. Once the two had hashed out some details Buffy headed for the training room and Anya set about making some notes.

* * * * *

Spike prowled around his hotel room. He was barely managing to hold together. The only reason the room furnishings weren't in pieces was his fear of being ejected into the sunlight. The bottle of scotch he and Giles had bought two nights previously had barely outlasted Giles' last visit. Now a sea of miniature bottles surrounded the waste-paper bin and three had even landed within its confines.

He had made light of his argument with Giles when he had spoken to Buffy on the phone, or perhaps it was more correct to say that being on the phone with Buffy had distracted him from how he felt about the argument. The morning had dawned clear and bright and being confined to a smallish room for the duration of the daylight hours was giving him too much time to think. He had tried to read. He had picked up a paperback copy of the works of Oscar Wilde. He stopped reading just after he got to the point where the villainess in "An Ideal Husband" remarked "Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike." Instead of falling asleep with the sunrise he was just beginning his solo drinking in earnest.

Frustration at the watcher's superior attitude boiled through the blood in his veins filling his cold body with an illusion of heat. Frustration also, at himself and at the slayer for what she had made him. Free at last of the chip he should have been once more in a world where no one dare look down on him. Before the chip, even his grandsire had finally given him the grudging respect of a worthy opponent, be it hidden beneath threats and vampiric posturing. Only when Buffy had had him confined to a wheel chair, did Angelus dare revert to treating him to the scorn derision and torture that were the normal lot of a fledgling or minion.

Before the slayer, Dru had shown him affection and such devotion as her feeble state would allow. For twelve decades they had known happiness together, or such a dream of happiness that he had been fooled, never having known the real thing. In retrospect, it seemed to him as if those years had been spent in a state of euphoria induced by passion, violence and unstoppable adrenaline. Buffy had shattered that illusion of happiness. She let loose the demon in leather pants that was Angelus. She did so at a time when injuries received at her hands prevented him from defending his claim to his dark goddess. Then when his feelings toward his queen had been tainted by her preference for "daddy" the bitch had stolen into his very being and planted the seeds of this corruption that was killing him.

For a century, fear and respect had been no more than his due him as one of an elite few to kill a slayer, and when he had killed his second he had become paramount within that elite group. Human or demon, any who disrespected him had died. Thanks to her, he was treated as less than a man by a bloody librarian who was so far behind the times it had taken a new millennium for him to abandon his tweed suits that must have last been fashionable around the time he'd been born.

Every moment of humiliation and emotional pain he had endured over the last half-decade had her as the cause, direct or indirect. Picking up the photograph of the Summers women from the spot on top of the bedside cabinet that had been its home whenever he was in the room, he pulled out his lighter and lit the bottom corner. Tilting the image this way and that until the flames threatened to scorch his trembling fingers, he dropped the remains into his already overflowing ashtray.

Stripping off quickly, dropping the expensive clothes wherever they fell, he walked into the shower and began to wash the dye from his hair. He had deliberately chosen a temporary colorant and for the first few rinses the water came away brown. Still, he rinsed and rinsed at it. When he had used up the travel size bottle of shampoo the hotel supplied, he started using the shower gel and finally the miniature bar of soap. Unable to see the effect of his ablutions, he scrubbed and rinsed obsessively. He'd had enough of hiding. If anyone wanted to come get themselves a piece then they'd better be a damn good shot with a crossbow, because if they came closer than that he'd teach them a lesson they'd never forget.

He pulled on jeans and a black T-shirt followed by socks and boots. He put gel in his hair and combed it through, feeling to make sure that his hair's natural curls had been tamed into his usual style. Grabbing one of the hooded tops he had bought he draped it over his arm so that a single layer of material covered his hand. He moved over beside the window and thrust his arm through between the curtain and the glass, standing there for several minutes before he was content that the material offered sufficient protection from the sun. He pulled on the top, zipping it tightly and pulling the hood as far forward as he could. He grabbed his wallet and pushed it into the front pocket of his jeans and then picked up his phone unplugging it from the charger. His hand was three quarters of the way to his pocket when it reversed direction smashing the front face of the phone into the corner of the desk, before letting it drop to the floor.

Pulling his suit jacket from the floor he reached into the pocket and removed the piece of paper with Quentin Travers address on. He pulled all the clothes from his duffle bag before throwing in the scrap of paper and zipping it shut. When he picked it up it made a heavy metallic clinking sound. He slung it over his shoulder and left the room. Head down, hands in his pockets he headed out looking for trouble.

* * * * *

Giles had already been feeling guilty by the end of his conversation with Buffy. The slayer had been inquisitive, and finally challenging, trying to find out what Spike and her Watcher had argued about.

"Do you know what he told me to tell you last time I saw him? He gave me little messages for everyone. I didn't pass them on, because I knew if he made it through everything, he would be embarrassed about showing his feelings. Do you know what he told me to say to you? He said, "Tell the old Watcher it might not have been too bad if I had been Randy, except that I'd never have forgiven him for the name." Do you have any idea what that means in Spike-speak. That means he would have liked you to have been his father. That means that he respects you. If it doesn't actually mean he already loves you then it means that he at least thought it might be possible some day. Is it getting through to you what your opinion means to this man?

He's having a hard time. I've been an absolute bitch, so much so that I'm only just realising how badly he gets treated by all of us in general. He has two friends in this entire world as far as I can tell; maybe three but I've never met the third one. His best friend is my kid sister and I've been pretty much keeping the pair of them apart until very recently. His only other friend in Sunnydale is this weird looking floppy eared demon that he plays poker with. And let me tell you the demon's nicer than most of us have been. Spike's changed and if we don't take that on board and give him the support he needs to keep changing for the better, we'll have ourselves to blame if he does go back to his old ways. Whatever you two argued about I want it sorted out. I love you and… well, I miss him. We'll have to get him back before I'll commit myself any further, but I need you two to be okay together."

Then he'd had a visitor at work. Veronica Macallister had searched out his office in the lower reaches of the Council headquarters. She'd passed over a thick manila folder to him.

"Will asked me to see that you received a copy of this. My thesis is at the front, followed by copies of the supporting documentation and references. Then there are some pieces that I've done more recently at the back. You will find that a lot of the later work is based on your own diary submissions.

There are a few missing pages and some words have been blacked out before I copied them. You could put in a request and get to see the original, but since the only thing missing are the references to his family name, I hope you'll leave it at what you have there. He said he hasn't used the family name since he was turned, that his vampire exploits have never been associated with those he once loved and he prefers that it remain that way."

She had then quickly excused herself saying she needed to get back before Quentin missed her.

Giles had been surprised at the contents of the file. Where he'd looked at the records of Spike's vampire career as a catalogue of horror, the young female watcher had looked behind the deeds and tried to analyse the motives behind the actions. Phrases seemed to leap out at him.

"William disproves the popular supposition that only a human's memories remain when he is turned, not his emotions. The theory that a demon merely sets up shop in the human body is inconsistent with the evidence suggested by an examination of the known details of this vampire's unlife."

"Whilst only the vampire himself can say whether he was in love with her William undoubtedly displayed affection for and intense loyalty to Drusilla. His gentleness and tenderness towards her are commented upon in diverse sources."

"Angelus would torture many of his victims, physically and psychologically. William would not have gained acceptance within the family group had he shown himself squeamish about the suffering of others. However whereas Angelus seemed to view torture as a pastime, William seemed to regard it as a weapon to be used when necessary or appropriate, preferring to rely on his consort's gifts."

"His tenderness to his lover, was often seen as potential weakness. This is possibly what forced him to indulge in such savagery in other areas. Certainly the kudos he received after killing his first slayer greatly aided his acceptance as an equal or near-equal member of the "Scourge" and enhanced the reputation of the group as a whole."

"William was born too late. He had the spirit, if not the literary ability of a Renaissance man."

"In those days when entailment was the norm, William had the misfortune to be a younger son of a younger son. He therefore had the social obligations of one born of good family without the finances necessary to truly hold his own in the society he kept. Unless he were to marry extremely well, it is doubtful he would ever have been truly accepted in his social circle and William was too much the romantic to consider marrying for money.

The normal careers for younger sons at the time were either the army or the clergy. William was deemed too delicate both in spirit and body to join the army. It would seem that his study of ancient languages (Ancient Greek, Latin and Hebrew plus others) may have been some sort of compromise between himself and his family so that if he failed in his endeavour to pursue a scholarly career, the clergy would remain an option."

"Despite his fearsome reputation, the primary role William had for over a century and one he seemed happy in, was that of carer. Although at times there was more than ample opportunity to delegate Drusilla's care to others, he always took an active part in tending to her needs, and was said to understand her even at her least lucid."

"From what was said at the time of our visit to Sunnydale, my feeling on the matter is that the vampire, even then, had feelings for the slayer. I find it far more likely that this is what led to his co-operation with her and her helpers rather than it being anything to do with the chip. Since the "demise" of Angelus no vampire has openly declared themselves master of the Hellmouth. I contend that at least part of the reason for this is that any vampire wishing to do so would have to prove themselves against the dominant resident vampire i.e. William. Therefore it stands to reason, that even chipped, if he so chose, he could rule the Hellmouth. He is more than capable of keeping the rest of the vampire population in line and could easily circumvent the chip by having others do any actual killing for him.

Instead he fought alongside the slayer until her death and has since continued to aid her Watcher and her friends in controlling the threat from the Hellmouth. At the time of our visit he appeared to be caught once again on the fringes of the society he sought to be a part of, trying to hide the true motives for his actions behind lies about monetary payment and payment in blood. The group as a whole it seems do not class him as a member. There was never any attempt made to have him attend when the slayer was being tested, although all the others did. However they make use of him when they find it expedient.

It is debatable, even with the levels of witchcraft being used, whether the Hellmouth would be tenable without his help. He is a warrior who was the equal to Buffy Summers, widely acknowledged as the most successful slayer in living memory. With the incumbent slayer incarcerated, his continued co-operation is important if not vital. If he were human we would not expect him to continue indefinitely in what appears to be a thankless task. Let us hope for all our sakes that vampiric patience and devotion outlast Faith, or that he can truly be accepted as part of the group, otherwise it is my opinion that the Hellmouth will fall before a new slayer is called."

Giles was amazed that the other watcher had been able to glean so much from the highly edited version of events he had sent to the council. Out of respect for Buffy's privacy he had kept many of the details of what had happened between the pair secret. It was also clear that the female watcher had over-romanticised Spike's past and was quite possibly infatuated with him. Even bearing that in mind, there was a great deal of truth in what she said. He had yet to read the most recent parts of the file when the mobile phone Spike had given him began to ring.

"Spike?"

"No, Angel. What's going on with you and him?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Do you have some sort of problem?"

"The Powers That Be seem to think we have. What were the pair of you arguing about?"

"For goodness sake, it was nothing that important, Spike just had a tantrum about not being appreciated. He said something about, it didn't matter what he did he'd never be good enough for us." Giles picked up a slight echo on the line. "Have you got this call going through a speaker?"

"Yes, I have. If five of us including my baby son have got to be up at three o'clock in the morning because of your stupidity, then we're all going to hear the conversation. So what was your reply to Spike's tantrum." Angel filled the last word with a cold anger. "No doubt, you reassured him that he was a valued member of the team, I'm sure."

"No, I told him that I appreciated that he had changed, but that since he was already talking about killing someone-."

"Who?"

"Quentin Travers?"

"Why him?"

Giles sighed. "It was Quentin who hired the Order of Taraka."

"So Spike wanted to kill him, so that the Tarakans would be called off. That just sounds like self defence to me, but I take it you had a problem with that?"

"Yes, well I told him if he was already talking about killing someone then we couldn't take it for granted he would be able to control himself without the chip. I said he was sort of like a reformed alcoholic, that everything would be sort of a day at a time."

Lorne interrupted taking the phone before Angel could reply.

"Let me just check that I've got this straight here. Spike tells you he has issues about being trusted and accepted. You imply that he is worth less than some watcher who wants to kill him presumably on no other basis than the fact that this guy is human. You then tell him that you ain't ever goin' to trust him, in fact you will be waiting every day for him to fail. No wonder the guy's flipped. With friends like you who needs enemies."

"I have not, nor will I ever claim to be Spike's friend."

"You can say that again, honey." Angel retrieved the phone from Lorne who turned to address the former watcher in the group. "No wonder you quit that lot, Wesley, seems to me they're all on the wrong side."

"Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"Look here! I don't have to sit here and listen to this sort of abuse."

Angel's voice was cold and hard and he put a deliberate pause at the end of every sentence. "Yes, Giles, you do. You made this mess and you're the only one who can get there in time to fix it. Spike was supposed to get that chip out. Before we even looked for a doctor, we had his aura read and that was okay, but I didn't want to leave it at that. I went to ask the Powers. They told me the chip had served its purpose, that it was time for it to go. Spike is supposed to play some part in the days to come. That, it would appear is now in jeopardy, because of you.

Cordelia had a vision. With Wesley's help we had already decided it was Travers' house in the country. If you don't get there in time to stop him Spike is going to go all "Serpent and the Rainbow" on your boss when he gets home tonight."

""Serpent and the Rainbow"?"

"Let's just say that he'll find himself nailed to a wooden chair and it won't be by his hands.

Giles, you better do this. There are times when I could kill Spike myself, and God knows he can irritate the life out of you, but he is family. For the first time in a hundred years we're back on the same side. If I lose him again because of you…"

"Wouldn't it be simpler just to warn Travers?"

"Yes, it would, but you seem to be missing the point of the vision. Cordelia wasn't getting Travers' pain or fear or whatever. She was getting Spike's frustration and anger and confusion. The Powers aren't interested in saving Travers. They're interested in you stopping Spike before he does something he can't recover from.

Besides if you tell Travers that Spike is going to be waiting in his home, he'll just saturate the place with assassins. You may as well stake him yourself."

Angel put the phone down before Giles could respond further. As far as he was concerned everything that needed saying had been said. Further conversation would just be a waste of time.

End of chapter 18