Disclaimer, Summary, ect. : See chap 1.
Author's Notes 1, Tigerwolf: Ok. This is a cool chap, I think. We get to see something that will carry through the rest of the fic. Well, a couple of things. I hope you enjoy it.
Spike had been alone in his hotel room for three sleepless hours. His room was on the fifth floor, along with everyone else's. He was staring out the window at the cars passing by on the freeway, and feeling decidedly bored. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself of. The truth was that he was suffering from Scooby withdrawal.
It had been nearly a week since they'd left Sunnydale, and in that whole time, he'd never really been alone. Sure, he'd closed the bedroom door, but everyone just came in whenever they felt like it, so it really didn't serve any purpose.
Also, he was almost totally healed from his ordeal with Glory. He showed no outward signs of the torture he'd endured, with the exception of a couple of new scars on his chest, and one rib that had healed crooked and put a slight, almost unnoticeable bump on his right side.
He paced back and forth in front of the window, debating going and knocking on the door to either Buffy and Dawn's room, or Giles', just to have someone to talk to. But he was kept from doing that by the same problem that had gotten him in trouble plenty of times before, his stubborn pride. If any of them even suspected that he missed them, they might think that he actually CARED about someone other than himself, Buffy, and Dawn. And he couldn't allow that. No matter how true it might be.
Spike had to do SOMETHING, though, or he'd lose his mind. Start talking to... bed posts, or whatever. THAT also couldn't be allowed. It was then that he remembered the clerk at the hotel desk telling them about a game room on the second floor. Maybe he could find something to do there. Take his mind off missing the... Buffy. He missed Buffy. That's it. Not the others. Buffy. Time to go.
=======================================================
Buffy watched Dawn sleep. She wasn't much on sleeping lately. When the girls had entered their room, they had each requested that fifteen bottles of shampoo be brought up for each of them. They had taken turns, Dawn using HER half of the tiny shampoo bottles for an hour long bubble bath, then Buffy. They sat on one bed, dried eachother's hair, and brushed it. Nails were done, toes and fingers.
Buffy called up for a couple salads, and the girls had munched, watching movies. Dawn had fallen asleep a while earlier, and Buffy moved her under the covers, and watched her. And felt good. Like she was doing her job. Dawn was safe, and warm, and happy, and polished and bathed. But Buffy was bored.
The only thing on TV this late was porn, or sappy Lifetime movies, which, hello. She did not need. Was her life not messed up enough? She remembered Giles telling her about a gaming room on the second floor. In her baby pink flannel jamma pants, beater and flip flops, she grabbed her key and padded to the door. She returned however, to scrawl a note to Dawn, and left it on the other bed. She would play pinball, she decided. And if there was someone else in there, she'd challenge them to air hockey. A smile spread on her face. She thought she'd have fun. She took the elevator to the second floor, but stopped as she reached the doors. There was a noise coming from inside.
She frowned. She knew the tune... but it was on a piano... She hummed a bar. "I am everything you want... I am everything you need..." There was a voice, too. Vertical Horizon. Her ears had identified the top 40 song. She cracked open the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the singer, but wanting to hear more clearly. She slipped in, letting the door close silently behind her, and stood. Astonishment fell through her as she stared at the back of a very bleached blonde head.
"Out of the island.. Into the highway.. Pass the places were you might have turned.
You never did notice... But you still hide away.. The anger of angels you won't return.
He's everything you want. He's everything you need. He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be.
He says all the right things at exactly the right time. But he means nothing to you and you don't know why.
I am everything you want. I am everything you need. I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be.
I say all the right things at exactly the right time, But I mean nothing to you and I don't know... why.
And I don't know... Why? Why? Why?
And I don't know...." The piano wound down at the end of the song. Spike was panting slightly. It took a lot to keep up with that beat.
Buffy applauded with three deliberate claps, coming to stand behind him.
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around and freezing when he saw who was behind him. "Oh, bugger."
"I thought Giles was lying."
He sat back down on the piano bench. "Damn. He told you?"
"Yup."
The vampire sighed. "Remind me to... I don't know. Speak very sternly at him later."
She grinned. "Kinda sucks that you can't tear his throat out now, huh?"
Spike chuckled. "I've never really wanted to, anyway."
She grinned again. "Good. Watcher's aren't supposed to get killed anyway. Just their Slayers."
"I haven't had much luck in that department as of late."
Kept grinning. "Lucky me."
He cocked his head sideways, looked up at her. "Any reason you're down here interrupting me, Slayer?" No malice in the tone. Genuine interest.
She shrugged. "Bored. I was gonna play pinball. Already took a bubble bath."
Spike shook his head to rid himself of the sudden image of Buffy... naked.. covered in suds... Oh god...
She waved a hand in his face. "Um... in there?"
He snapped back. "Huh? Oh. Sorry. I was... thinking." Looked at her again. "Pinball, huh? You any good?"
"Kinda. Reflexes, all that. I like air hockey better though."
He stood up. "Care for a challenge then?"
Sly smile. "You're on."
He grinned and followed her to the air hockey table.
-========================================================================= ===========
It was officially four thirty in the morning, and they were tied, two games apiece, and were on the sixth point in the oh-so-important fifth, tie-breaking game. As with true battles, they were showing their colors on the air-hockey 'court'. She was aggressively defensive, while he was dangerously offensive. If there had been on-lookers, they would have been excited.
Spike kept slamming that poor little disc as hard as he could, nearly sending it flying off the table a few times. His eyes flashed with excitement, and he continually looked at his worthy opponent, gauging her level of exhaustion. They were even on that as well.
Her pride was the only thing keeping her in this game. She knew it. She caught his eye, and leaned forward over the table slightly, the front of her shirt gapping slightly.
The distraction worked, whether or not it was intended. Spike's interest was momentarily focused on Buffy's.. ahem... chest area.. and the disc flew straight into his goal. He tossed the paddle onto the table. "DAMN!"
She leaned back up, and shook her head. "I win."
He snorted at her. "I'm sure you cheated somehow."
She shrugged. "Hey. Whatever works."
He sat back on the piano seat, sulking.
She laughed. "Giles always says that I should use my body." Frowned. "But I'm not sure he meant it like that."
Another snort. Turned around, began playing a classical piece. Moonlight Sonata.
Buffy tilted her head to the side. "I have a music box that plays that."
Didn't even pause. Continued playing, eyes closed. "First piece I ever learned."
She smiled. "I never learned to play anything."
He stopped his playing. "Want me to teach you something?"
She pulled back slightly. "No." Laughing smile. "I mean. Wow, would I suck."
He moved over, patting the seat next to him. "You can do it. Tell you what, since you know the tune, I'll teach you the left hand of Moonlight, and I'll play the right. A duet."
She frowned and sat down lightly, apprehensively. She REALLY hated doing things she'd suck at.
He nodded at her. "Ok. Watch me." He played the opening cords of Moonlight. Just the same three notes, over and over, six times. "Now you."
She did it, slowly, clumsily, and missed a key twice. Pouted at them.
He cocked his head at the piano, then at Buffy. "Ok. Another tactic. Give me your left hand." He turned slightly and held out his own left hand for hers.
She extended it slowly. He took her hand, positioned it over the keys, holding his own hand over the back of hers. "Now, close your eyes, and I'm going to guide your fingers to the right keys. Get you used to feeling how you have to reach."
She gave him a look, then closed her eyes. Slowly, his fingers pressed on hers, causing her to find the right keys. As he did so, he began playing the right hand portion as well. After a moment, he stopped guiding her, and let the music do it. She played perfectly.
Her eyes opened and she missed a key. She grinned anyway. "I was playing that. Did you hear?"
He grinned back at her. "I did. I told you that you could do it."
She closed her eyes again, and let her fingers find the keys. Played her half of the intro over and over again.
Spike grinned at her, and slowly brought her other hand up, repeating the process. Soon, she was playing the first minute of the song flawlessly. She swayed slightly as she played, a small smile turning just the corners of her lips. Spike moved down to the far end of the bench. Watched her for a moment, then began playing at the low end of the scale, right along with her, causing the song to resonate with the deeper tones he added. Somehow, it made it warmer, and lonelier at the same time. Hoping she'd take the hint, Spike slowed his playing, and finally stopped right along with her, adding a low scale flourish to the end. Her fingers slowed and stopped as he ended with a flourish and she opened her eyes reluctantly.
He just smiled at her. "Beautiful."
She ducked her head slightly to run her fingers gently over the smooth keys.
He just kept smiling at her. "And you thought you would suck."
A slow smile curved her lips. "I played the Moonlight Sonata." Stopped, gave a small frown. "Well, ya know, kinda, but not really, but I did do the one part."
Spike chuckled. "It's all basically the same. Just move up and down the scale as you play. Your Watcher will be proud of you for trying."
She grinned. "He'll have a heart attack."
Spike grinned back, turned back to the piano, started playing scales slowly.
Buffy tapped a key here and there, but wasn't doing much.
He cocked his head at her. "Got a request? Or do you want me to show you something else?"
She got off the bench, sprawled out on the floor. "Go ahead and play something."
He thought for a moment. A minuet flowed from the piano.
She lifted her head from where it was resting on her arms. "Whassat?"
"Minuet in G. Bach."
Her head dropped back down. "Oh." In minutes, she was asleep.
He stopped his playing, gazing down at the sleeping Slayer. Slowly, he got up, bent down, and lifted her into his arms. He was half expecting her to wake up and beat the living hell out of him, but she didn't. He headed for the elevator.
She let out a pouty sigh, turned her head into the sleeve on his upper arm, squirmed a moment, then quieted down again.
Spike had frozen for a moment when she moved and it was all he could do to keep his knees under his own control when she snuggled closer to him. He pressed the elevator button with an elbow. As he stood there waiting for the elevator, he couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little too thin. Her ribs, while not prominent, were showing where her shirt had ridden up slightly when she'd moved. Spike let out a quiet sigh. All this worrying about Dawn, and before that, Joyce, and everything was taking more of a toll on her than she was letting on.
The elevator came, and he stepped in, pressing the fifth floor button with his elbow again. Got off, walked to the room that Buffy had been sharing with Dawn. It was seven o'clock on a Saturday morning, and they had cable for the first time in a week. He assumed that Dawn would be up. He tapped on the door with his foot, called quietly, "Bit? Open up, it's me."
He heard a groan, and slight stumble. The door swung open. The Key gazed at him through bleary eyes. Became intensely afraid when she saw her sister in his arms. The fear jolted through her body and she reached for Buffy, a silent cry falling from her lips.
Spike saw her scared look, and shook his head. "She just fell asleep in the rec room, Bit. I was down there, so I brought her back."
The relief spiraled through her system, and she heaved out a sigh and turned down the blankets on Buffy's bed for Spike.
The vampire stood outside the door. "Uh, Bit? Invitation..."
"Oh! Umm.. come in."
Spike walked in and laid the unconscious Slayer on her bed, removing her socks and pulling the covers up over her. Then he turned to leave.
Dawn stalled him with a hand on his arm. "Wanna have breakfast? We can eat in your room so Buffy can sleep?"
He stopped, then. "Well, I guess it's okay. How about you leave her a note first, so that we don't have a repeat of the Ohana incident?"
She grinned, and scribbled a note on the back of the paper Buffy had left for her, and folded it into a card to sit in front of the TV. She pulled Spike along by his wrist. "Come on. Moonlighting's on at 7:30 in the morning's."
He groaned and let her lead him back to his room. Unlocked the door and let them in. "Is room service open this early?"
A big smile. "Opens at six am."
He grinned, flopped on the bed and picked up the phone. "What do you want?"
"Eggs, and bacon, and waffles, and syrup. And tea, and juice and water."
He gave a shrug. "Why don't I just ask them for one of everything, Bit? What you don't eat, I will. Or we can make doggie bags for the Ohana."
She smiled. "Okay."
He placed the order, and walked over to where she was on the couch. Sat down, leaned back. "Ok. All ordered. Now we just wait. What's on on Saturday mornings?"
She made a face. "Cartoons suck beyond the stretch of ANY imagination. So! Like I said. Moonlighting." Dawn gave a charming grin. "Bruce Willis is too cool."
Spike chuckled and flipped on the TV, settling back to watch the rerun that he'd already seen like, had to be over a thousand times now. Oh well. It was for Dawn.
She was delighted. She loved the show, and liked Spike's company. He was too cool, too. And he didn't HAVE to be a PI to be cool. Cuz SPIKE was a VAMPIRE.
As if to prove her unspoken point, Spike yawned, showing fangs for a moment. It made the yawn and stretch more comfortable to the vampire.
She hid a small smile. Even cooler, a vampire who liked her and didn't want to eat her.
Finishing his stretch, Spike dug in his jeans pocket and fished out his pack of cigs and his lighter. Took one, lit it, took a long drag. Now he could relax.
Without hesitating once, she reached over as she had a week before, plucking the cigarette out of his hands, and drew off it. Like a pro, even tilting her head back a bit for that final intake. Handed it back, slipping it in his fingers.
Spike snatched it back. "DAWN!"
Arched a brow at him, blew the smoke out easily. "Spike."
"What do you think you're doing?", he railed at her. "Smoking is bad for humans!"
She nodded calmly, watched him take a haggard drag. Blew the smoke out. "I'm not human, so I can't get lung cancer and whatever else it'll give you. Never do that again."
She gave him a lazy look, snatched it from his fingers again. Drew off it hard, deep. And held her smoke as she said, pointing to the reddened end of the cigarette, "This... is twenty times worse for me," she blew out the stream of smoke as she talked, "than this." She pointed at the filtered end. "So." She leaned over the edge, tapped it against an ash tray, thus shortening the cigarette. "I'd rather breathe in five times as bad, than twenty." Took another, shorter puff.
Spike grumbled something about 'know it all teenagers', took the cig back, and ground it out in the ashtray. "Happy now?"
She gave him an innocent's smile. "Aren't you? You aren't slowly poisoning my system to the point of a sluggish, cancer-ridden, joy and health depriving death."
He thought for a moment. "I can't feel guilt, you know, so that won't work."
She batted her eyes at him, but not obviously. Just a couple slow blinks. "I thought you said you'd always take care of me." A small frown line formed between her eyebrows.
"I will always take care of you. I said I can't feel guilt, not devotion."
A slow frown was forming at the corners of her mouth. "So... if I died in your care, you wouldn't feel bad?"
Spike thought. "Yeah, I would. I'd.. miss you. I just.." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. I just don't know. Everything used to make sense, and now nothing does." He glanced at her. "Well... almost nothing."
She gave him her best smile. "What makes sense?"
"You. Buffy. And nothing else."
She snorted. "Yeah. Cuz... Buffy makes sense... Uh huh. Was that before or after you got the memo about hell freezing over?"
"I meant my feelings, my emotions. They make sense. Everything else doesn't."
She nodded. "It doesn't have to make sense to be nice, ya know?"
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Tell me about it. She's my mortal enemy, and here I am, on vacation with her family, watching TV with her little sister."
Dawn gave him a haughty sigh. "Please. *I* am the sister of the chosen one, but not really. Just a mystical ball of energy, strategically placed, and am friends with my sister's mortal enemy."
He thought about the best way to say what he was thinking. "Dawn. What's your earliest memory?"
She thought hard for a moment, the frown melting into a reminiscing smile. "I was... little. I dunno. Two or three. And we were at a park in LA. I was playing in a sandbox, and Buffy was playing with me, and Mom was sitting on a bench, watching us. Why?"
"In your mind, that really happened, right?"
She shrugged. "In a way. But... I know now, so... it's REAL, but it's... sometimes I know it's fake and it makes me sad."
"You remember it. Buffy remembers it. Joyce remembered it. Memories make the person. They shape who we are. The things I like and dislike now were shaped very early on. I wouldn't be me without my memories." He sighed, gathered his thoughts. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... It doesn't matter if the memories are real, or manufactured by monks, or whatever. They are a part of you. A wonderful part that shapes the young woman that you are becoming. And you know what?"
She suddenly looked very hopeful, very vulnerably, and very young. "What?"
"I care for you, Dawn. I love you. You. Not some mystical Key with monk memories. You. Remember that when you start feeling that you're not real. You are as real as the people who care about you. That makes you more real than most of the people on this miserable planet."
A slow, sweet smile spread across her face, and her shoulders drew up a little bit. She dropped her head in a half nod. "Thank you."
He leaned back with a grin. "Not a problem, Bit." There was a knock at the door. "Oh. That must be our food."
She rubbed her hands together. "Good... Cuz, like... Starving, much?"
Spike got up, opened the door and took the loaded cart from the guy who'd brought it, giving him a couple of dollars for a tip, and wheeled the cart to in between the couch and the coffee table.
Halfway between Dawn and Spike's grappling fight for the last waffle, a knock sounded on his door. They paused. Spike looked at her. "Did you order something else?"
Eyes wide, she shook her head no.
He got up slowly and made his way to the door, the predatory walk obvious. Called, "Who is it?"
"Me."
Spike relaxed, called to Dawn. "It's big sis, Bit." He opened the door. "Come on in, luv. I'm sure we've got something edible left."
A sleep-tousled Buffy walked in the door, giving him a half-smile. "S'ok. Just wanted to sit and say morning. Not really hungry." She ran her fingers through Dawn's hair by way of greeting, and the chewing teen nodded.
Spike followed her back to the couch, handed her a muffin. "You need to eat, luv. You're starting to look like a pencil with ribs."
She was decidedly affronted. "I do NOT!"
He chuckled. Looked at Dawn for support.
She gave a grudging shrug and nodded. Swallowed. "You are skinny."
Buffy gave her sister a good glare, and ripped off a hunk of the muffin to chew on. "I am not *skinny*," she said as thought it was most insulting thing ever.
Spike hid a chuckle. "Women are confusing, if you ask me. They don't want to be fat, and they don't want to be skinny. What the bloody hell do you want?"
"To be perfect," the Summers' echoed together.
He looked at one, then the other. "Well. You're there."
Dawn smiled, while Buffy rolled her eyes, shoving another bite of muffin in her mouth to plug up the smart remark begging to fall out from her lips.
Spike got up, stretched, yawned, and walked over to the bed, flopping down on his stomach.
Buffy couldn't dispute the sentiment. She had just come in to check on Dawn. She looked like hell, she was sure, hair mussed from sleep, sleepy eyes and wrinkled jammas. Not that it mattered. It was Spike.
His head lolled back so that he could see the sisters on the couch. "Did the Watcher say if we're leaving again today, or did he get the two day package?"
Buffy smiled lazily. "Two day package. I found their gym."
The vampire's eyes locked on Buffy. "Really, now?"
A small smile lit her lips and something fired her eyes. "They have a yoga room that no one ever uses."
Spike actually licked his lips. "Hmm. Padded floors. Lots of space..."
Dawn's eyes grew large, and she gagged on her toast, in her rush to get out, "Oh my God!"
Spike cocked his head, which looked silly, considering he was still upside down. Unknowingly, he said a Scoobyism. "What's your damage, Bit?"
A sick look on her face, she remembered that it was NOT her business. "Nothing. No damage." Stood. "I'm... um... full. I'm gonna... get ready for the day." Looked at her sister... well, around her sister. AT her was a little too much right now. "Key?"
Buffy reached in the waistband of her jamma pants, and handed Dawn a plastic key. She sped from the room.
Spike shifted his gaze from the now closed door to Buffy. "What's wrong with her?"
She shrugged, still focusing on the up-coming fight. "I wonder if the door locks..."
========================================================================== ==========
Buffy smiled at Spike from across the room. It wasn't friendly. It was feral. Predatory. Her loose pants and tight tank top were in place, her hair was up. She was wearing only socks. She was ready.
Spike had a very similar look on his face, accentuated by fangs and glowing eyes. He wore one of his black beaters that was hugging his abs and ribs slightly, and a pair of black jeans. They'd agreed on socks before hand, to give them both the same disadvantage. He growled low in his throat, a 'bring it on' growl.
She flung herself into the spar with abandon. Half jab here, full punch there.
He had to physically remind himself not to WANT to hurt her, as he blocked her jabs and threw ones of his own.
She tossed a punch at his ribs, knew he'd block especially well there, and while he WAS blocking, landed a punch on his cheek.
It knocked him off balance... and pissed him off. His next punch was accurate, and it was meant to be. He froze, waiting for the chip to go off. It didn't. He stood there stupidly for a moment. Until Buffy tackled him and knocked him down, hard, on his back.
She planted a soft fist over his unbeating heart, miming staking him. "I paid twenty bucks for that?"
In a swift move, his leg hooked around her's and he reversed it, pinning her completely. "No. You paid $20 for this." Leaned forward, fangs less than an inch from her throat. Whispered in her ear, "I win."
She bucked her hips, hard, and ducked her head, rolling them both over her shoulder, clamped one hand on his chin, the other in his hair. "Snap."
He snorted at her, but couldn't move. "Fine. Bloody hell."
She gave him an arrogant grin, felt something where their bodies connected, but stood smoothly, ignoring it, with all the Denial in Egypt. "Round two?"
He stood up, shaking himself a little. "That wasn't even round one. That was warm up." He launched himself at her, intending to test his new theory about his chip, and launched into a flurry of punches and kicks that should have set it off a dozen times over. But didn't.
She was blocking, making her own attacks, not even thinking that he was thinking to harm her. She landed a solid kick to his chest, sending him back a couple of paces.
She tried to tackle him, same as before, but this Master had a few tricks up his sleeves. He jumped straight up in the air, and she ran under him. It was like something out of The Matrix. When he came down, he took advantage of her disorientation to pin her on her stomach to the mat, straddling her back. Sitting on her. "I win."
The words whispered at her, and she jerked her head back, smacking him in the forehead with the back of her skull, trying to dislodge him.
He snarled at her, but didn't move. "That wasn't nice, Slayer."
She was still, searching her mind for something, anything. To her surprise, he got off her. Sat on the mat about a foot away, just looking at her.
She rolled to her side to look at him. "How do I get out of something like that?"
He chuckled. "I don't know. You probably could have arched your back really fast. Buck me off. But in the time you were laying there trying to figure out what to do, I had enough time to drain you twice."
She gave a contemplative frown. "Could have grabbed your forearms, ducked my head, came into a roll. Damnit."
"Just be glad that I didn't think of this a few years ago."
She nodded, but was only half-listening. She was going over it again in her head, calculating, trying the moves.
Spike, meanwhile, was going over calculations of his own. He knew the chip had been working less than a week ago. It had gone off when he hit the Knight with the... sword... And it had gone off for longer than ever... and tapered down instead of just shutting off.. What if it had overloaded? Did that mean that it would never work again? And if so, why didn't he just leave the Scoobies right then? Go out and have himself a good bloodbath? He didn't know. Well, maybe he would. Later. Except.. What would Dawn think? And Buffy? Oh god, Buffy. She'd think she'd been right about him all along. Everything he'd done, all he'd suffered through, would have been for nothing. So, no. No hunting for him. Not anytime soon, anyway.
She looked at him, and stood. "Again."
He didn't look up from his internal musings.
"Spike!"
He jumped. "What? Huh?"
She tapped her stocking foot impatiently. "Not paying you to sit on your ass."
He shook his head. "Oh, yeah. Right." Struck a fight stance.
She shook her head, laid down on the mat, on her stomach. "Pin me."
He cocked his head for a moment, then got on top of her in the same position that he'd been in earlier.
She tried arching her back quickly, attempted to buck him off. He gripped her sides with his knees, effectively holding on. She swore under her breath, a fine sheen of sweat glistening over her back and arms. She reached back quickly, yanking forcefully on his forearms, her head ducking in for a shoulder roll. This caused her to be laying on her back, on his stomach. His mouth dangerously close to her neck. Obviously, this particular escape wouldn't work either, really.
Meanwhile, Spike was slowly being driven crazy. To have the Slayer.. his Slayer.. this close. He could do it. Just turn your head a little, open your mouth... NO! He forcibly turned his head the other way and pushed his demon down, returning to his human mask.
She stood, stomped her foot. "Damnit."
He just lay there, half panting from the strength it took to control his demon. Rolled on his stomach, but didn't get up.
She frowned. "I suppose, worse to worse, and that happens, I can just nail them in the ribs and jump up, yeah?"
He nodded, not wanting to open his mouth at that particular moment.
She sighed disgustedly. She'd run the move with Giles, get his opinion later. "Up for a few more?"
He moved into a sitting position. "Can I.. call a rain check? I.. I don't feel so good right now."
She gave a disappointed frown. "Ok." She went to leave the room, then turned. "You might wanna go get some blood, Spike. You look kinda.... out of it."
He gave her a slow nod. "I'll go out to the Ohana as soon as it gets dark." There was... a shadow in his eyes. Like he was sick or something. He climbed to his feet. What if he hurt Dawn accidentally? Or Buffy? God, he'd been so close... He walked past her, heading back to the elevator, his walk a little shaky.
She nodded, followed him to the elevator, intending to take a shower. "Tell ya what, I'll just send Dawn down for a few bags, she can drop them off at your room."
He turned quickly. "No!" Shook his head, said quieter, "No. I'll be fine, luv. I just... need some sleep, or something." Walked into the elevator when it came.
She followed him into it, keeping a few feet between them. "Are you sure you're ok?"
He didn't.. wouldn't look at her, afraid he'd lose it again. "I'm fine. Just tired, that's all. It's been... a really long week."
All in all, to her, it had been a lazy one, but... whatever. "You might wanna go out tonight. Ya know... get something into your system. You've been doing nothing for a week."
Yeah. Go out. Hunt. Kill. He could. He wanted to.... Didn't he? "I'm starting to like doing nothing."
Slow grin. "It's nice for a change."
Spike risked a look at her. "Yeah. I guess it is nice. But I might go out, ya know? Just... find something to ki-... do."
Buffy nodded as the elevator stopped. She stepped out, went down her side of the hall. "Good luck finding anything."
She didn't notice, but the eyes that watched her enter her room glowed golden yellow. "Oh. I think it'll be pretty easy..."
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Spike stalked through the alleys near the hotel. Past the third Starbucks, and a theater, his black duster blowing in the breeze slightly. Every person that passed him was a snack food. A snack food that he was no longer on a diet from. He was searching, though. The first victim had to be special. Perfect. Not too tall, not too short.. and at least ten pints worth. The thought of the fresh, hot blood that would soon be coursing down his throat filled him with predatory excitement. He'd almost forgotten. THIS was what life was about. Hunting. Killing. Finding the perfect... Ooh. She'd do nicely. A low rumble echoed from his throat as he began the second phase of the hunt, singling out his prey...
She was walking, black hair shining, green eyes smiling. She walked with confidence. She was intelligent, young, and the world was at her feet. A college student, home for the summer. Nothing better. She felt a sliver of unease crawl up her spine. Turned her head, but didn't see anyone. She felt... followed. Watched. She shrugged it off, kept walking. But the feeling, as well as her anxiety were growing. She turned quickly down what she thought was a side street. Oh shit. An alley. An alley, an alley. Her mom would kill her for this when she got home... she'd refuse to let her leave the house for a month, and she would let her. Whatever was behind her had left. She let out a sigh of relief.
This was the moment that Spike relished the most. While the human was looking behind her, he slipped in front of her, causing her to nearly smack into him. He still wore his human visage, but that changed when the girl looked at him.
She screamed. Began to back away.
Spike moved faster than she could see, catching her, saying quietly, "It'll hurt a lot less if you hold still, ducks." His lips curled back, revealing the gleaming fangs beneath.
Her hand began fumbling around her neck, for the necklace that she usually had faithfully around her neck, began to cry, huge tears streaming down her cheeks. "Hail Mary, full of grace, come to us in the hour of our need..." The prayer broke off in a terrified, "Oh God..." A sob, a struggle. "Please... No...."
Spike gazed down at her, his golden eyes shining. Ran his tongue over his teeth. What was wrong with him? He'd usually killed the human by now! He sniffed at her, trying to get himself worked up to feed, and instead getting a nose full of what smelled like Dawn's shampoo. He froze, not letting her go, and not killing her. His stare didn't waver, but softened for an instant, then it was back to the same predatory gleam that had been there since before he'd left the hotel.
She saw the split second of relenting. Latched on to it like a lifeline. "Please... God, please... M-mommy... my mom... Oh God..." The plea wasn't as eloquent as she'd have liked it, but it was all her panic- addled brain could choke past her lips. All she could think about. Her mother... Her poor mom ID-ing her body... Slight whimper... sadly, as if feeling mourning for her mother, for herself already, "Oh, mom..."
Spike lost it, his mind filled with thoughts of Dawn, of Joyce, of Buffy. He couldn't do this, he was wrong to think he could. He released the girl and backed up, sitting on a box against the wall.
The girl gave him a look that lasted maybe a quarter of a second, whimpered a quick thanks to God and darted from the alley. Spike was still sitting there when he heard her scream a moment later. His head shot up, golden eyes flashing. He followed her scent, finding her in the arms of a big yellow/green demon who was about to slit her throat. He roared and leaped onto it's back, causing it to drop the girl. "RUN!"
She stumbled back, curling to a ball on the ground, free from the demon, but unable to move. Too much... Too much...
With a little trouble, including a claw slash across his arm, Spike broke the demon's neck. Then, exhausted, he collapsed on top of the corpse.
She looked at her savior. And broke down in tears. It was apparent to her that she was meant to die tonight. She would die with honor. And dignity. She firmed her resolve, made the sign of the cross, saying a Hail Mary, and a quick prayer that her mother would never find out that she had sex with Jon Holtz on the couch while her mom was in Florida. She took a deep breath, and turned to where Spike was now standing. She looked at him with the bravest sincerity in her eyes, and dropped to her knees in front of him.
Spike just stood there, cradling his injured arm. "What're you doin'? I told you to run." The words were said in a voice thick with untold emotion and exhaustion. He sat on an overturned garbage can, examining his wound.
It hit her then. She wasn't dying tonight. She didn't have to. She could go home, and snuggle on the couch with her cat, call her dad, remind him she loved him, and hug her mother. She regained her feet slowly.
Spike stayed sitting, his body shaking slightly. What was he doing out here anyway? He sniffed at the wound in his arm, but didn't even have the energy to lick at the blood.
The girl crossed to him, slowly. Pulled from her purse a small med kit. Just some gauze, and tape and bandages. Pushed up the sleeve of his duster, smoothed the gauze over it, taping it in place. She was bent over his arm, her hair blowing in the late night breeze, and the scent of it came back to Spike like a slap in the face.
"...Dawn..", he whispered to himself. "Oh god, I could have hurt Dawn..." A single tear ran from his now blue eyes and blazed a trail down his cheek. "Don't help me," he said to the girl. "I'm a monster, or didn't you notice?"
She looked at him, with the eyes of youth, but not necessarily innocence. She had seen things. Been through things. She was strong and kind. But not foolish. "You saved me, too. And you didn't kill me. Twice."
He brought up his other hand and rubbed his forehead. "I know." Sighed. "I'm having a really bad day." Looked at her curiously. "What's your name?"
"Madison." She returned his look. "What's yours?"
"Sp-..." Paused. "William."
She smiled. "My little brother's name is William."
He cocked his head. "Really?" He looked around. "Do you live near here? I don't want you gettin' pounced by anymore nasties tonight."
She nodded. "About a quarter mile down the road."
He stood up. "I'll walk with you. Make sure you make it safely."
She nodded, not questioning the oddity of it. But halfway to her home, she stopped in the glare of a streetlight, and asked, "What are you, anyway?"
He paused. Thought. Until this night, being a vampire had made him proud. He was a killing machine, and good at what he did. But now, something had changed. He said honestly, "I used to know. It used to be easy. Now... I'm not sure anymore. But if you want a species, I'm a vampire."
Her eyes grew wide. She murmured in Spanish a moment. "My... my mother... She's Hispanic. They have a holiday in Spain, celebrating the dead. She'll be impressed to know that not all the dead stay that way."
He chuckled, a hollow sound. "Yeah. But some of us wish we were."
She stared at him, light and depth resonating from her voice. "There's light in you. Good. Not all, not by a long shot. But it is there. Why, Mr. William the Vampire, didn't you kill me?" The question was lightly posed, but she wanted an answer.
He looked at her. "Because... Because you reminded me of someone. And.. I know what it's like to lose a family member. More than once. I don't know why, but I couldn't put your family through it."
She smiled sadly at him. "Everyone has a family. Someone who cares. Someone who'll mourn a passing." She shrugged. "I'm not exclusive or special in that way."
"Not me. They died a long time ago. Over a hundred years ago, actually."
She cocked her head to the side. "And the girl I reminded you of? She wouldn't miss you?"
Spike ducked his head. Said quietly, "Her name's Dawn. She would probably miss me. But no one else. Even the woman I love with my whole heart can't let herself trust me."
"Do you trust yourself?" The girl, Madison, posed the question.
"Right now? I honestly don't know. I don't think so."
She gave him a quietly searching look. "Yet this woman should?"
He leaned against the lamp post. "No. I guess not. I've just... I've been trying... So hard for so long. And still... She just sees me as Dawn's pet or her own personal punching bag." Deep sigh. "I just don't know what to do."
She made a confused face. "She can hurt you?"
"She's what's known as a Vampire Slayer. There's only one in every generation. I've killed two. But this one... She.. got in. I still don't know how."
Madison, like most, was a romantic at heart. "A vampire and a... Slayer? How... contradictory."
He gave that hollow chuckle again. "Yeah. Bleedin' Romeo and Juliet. Except that her family tolerates me. For Dawn. Dawn's the Slayer's sister."
"And Dawn... loves you?"
"She says she does. I know I love her." He laughed again. "Which I'm not supposed to be capable of. Vampires do not posses a human soul. Can not feel remorse, guilt, or love. I'm the contradiction."
She smiled, genuinely. "Thank God for me."
He chuckled again, a genuine one. "Yeah. Put in a good word for me when you go to confessional." They were outside her house by then. Spike paused, not really wanting to say goodbye. This night had been life changing. Just not in the way he'd originally thought. "I guess you've got to go now, huh?"
She shrugged. "Everyone's asleep." She dug in her purse a moment, then pulled up a chain, with a charm attached to it. She smiled engagingly at him. "I'm Irish-Hispanic. How's THAT for a blend? My mother's hair, my father's eyes and a blend from their skin."
He gave a half grin. "You're talking to a human/demon hybrid, ducks. You've got nothing on me."
She smiled, and held out the pendant to him. "My father gave this to me. It's a Celtic knot. A passages knot. It's to guide a person at crossroads. The green stone above it is malachite. It's to protect the wearer, and promotes physical and spiritual well-being." A warm, genuinely caring glance. "I think you need it more than I do, now."
He felt his eyes tear up and blinked back violently. "I can't take that, Madison. It's your's. You don't even know me."
She moved as if to hug him but really hooked the necklace on him. "You don't have to take it. I'm giving it to you. And I know you well enough to know that it's going to be hard for you, and that Dawn, and this other woman, they're lucky to have you."
Spike stood there, blinking, his hand finding the necklace and fingering it. "What if... if your dad wants to know what happened to it?"
She shrugged. "It was for me to pass it along when I saw fit. I'll tell him that it found someone else to guide."
Spike leaned against a parked car, not even thinking about his non reflection in the mirrors. "I.. thank you, Madison. I'll take good care of it."
She smiled, and nodded. Took out a scrap of paper, scribbled a few things down on it, then handed him the paper. "To call, or write, if you ever want to, or need to. You're welcome to my home."
He stared at the paper. "Thanks... I'll remember that." He fished around in his pockets, found a scrap of receipt from who knows what. Took a pen out of his duster's interior pocket and scribbled down a phone number. "This is to the cell phone of a... friend of mine. When you call, ask for Spike. We'll probably be on the road again starting tomorrow, but I'll call you when we stop again." Handed her the paper.
She smiled. Looked at him. "Spike." Fit the name to the image, to the man. Nodded.
"Thanks again," he said quietly, looking at the curb.
She stood on the curb, a bit closer to his eye-level now, and held his shoulders firmly in her hands, and pulled him to her in a hug. No fear. Just like Dawn.
He was tense at first, then calmed, wrapped his arms around her for a moment as well.
She placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, then said, "This girl...? Her name?"
Said quietly, with all the love in his heart, "Buffy."
Madison nodded. "She's foolish, if she doesn't see your heart." Kissed his forehead again. "I'll pray that your passages are guided, and those in your heart safe."
He felt his heart melt. Same as with Dawn. "Thank you." He hugged her quickly, one last time, then watched as she headed up the walk to her house.
She turned as she opened the door, to wave and say, "Remember. You're always welcome."
"I know. I will. Goodnight, Madison."
"Goodnight, Spike." The door closed, and locked behind her. Soon enough, a light in the upstairs came on.
Spike watched the light for awhile, then turned and headed back for the hotel, his heart feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. He could feel the sunrise coming. As he walked, his hand kept finding it's way to the necklace. Madison had been right. Now that he knew the right path, he only had to follow it. He sighed. Which meant that he would have to tell Buffy about the chip. And he would. Next time it came up.
READ THIS!!!! Ok. Thank you. Hey... guys, let me know what you think of her, ok? Please? It means a lot to me. *bites lip nervously*Madison will be a recurring character, but it will NEVER be a romantic relationship. Ever. TOTAL B/S-er's writing here. Did I mention to try to be kind? Please? Thanks so much. Always.(waiting with baited breath) Tequila
Author's Notes 1, Tigerwolf: Ok. This is a cool chap, I think. We get to see something that will carry through the rest of the fic. Well, a couple of things. I hope you enjoy it.
Spike had been alone in his hotel room for three sleepless hours. His room was on the fifth floor, along with everyone else's. He was staring out the window at the cars passing by on the freeway, and feeling decidedly bored. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself of. The truth was that he was suffering from Scooby withdrawal.
It had been nearly a week since they'd left Sunnydale, and in that whole time, he'd never really been alone. Sure, he'd closed the bedroom door, but everyone just came in whenever they felt like it, so it really didn't serve any purpose.
Also, he was almost totally healed from his ordeal with Glory. He showed no outward signs of the torture he'd endured, with the exception of a couple of new scars on his chest, and one rib that had healed crooked and put a slight, almost unnoticeable bump on his right side.
He paced back and forth in front of the window, debating going and knocking on the door to either Buffy and Dawn's room, or Giles', just to have someone to talk to. But he was kept from doing that by the same problem that had gotten him in trouble plenty of times before, his stubborn pride. If any of them even suspected that he missed them, they might think that he actually CARED about someone other than himself, Buffy, and Dawn. And he couldn't allow that. No matter how true it might be.
Spike had to do SOMETHING, though, or he'd lose his mind. Start talking to... bed posts, or whatever. THAT also couldn't be allowed. It was then that he remembered the clerk at the hotel desk telling them about a game room on the second floor. Maybe he could find something to do there. Take his mind off missing the... Buffy. He missed Buffy. That's it. Not the others. Buffy. Time to go.
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Buffy watched Dawn sleep. She wasn't much on sleeping lately. When the girls had entered their room, they had each requested that fifteen bottles of shampoo be brought up for each of them. They had taken turns, Dawn using HER half of the tiny shampoo bottles for an hour long bubble bath, then Buffy. They sat on one bed, dried eachother's hair, and brushed it. Nails were done, toes and fingers.
Buffy called up for a couple salads, and the girls had munched, watching movies. Dawn had fallen asleep a while earlier, and Buffy moved her under the covers, and watched her. And felt good. Like she was doing her job. Dawn was safe, and warm, and happy, and polished and bathed. But Buffy was bored.
The only thing on TV this late was porn, or sappy Lifetime movies, which, hello. She did not need. Was her life not messed up enough? She remembered Giles telling her about a gaming room on the second floor. In her baby pink flannel jamma pants, beater and flip flops, she grabbed her key and padded to the door. She returned however, to scrawl a note to Dawn, and left it on the other bed. She would play pinball, she decided. And if there was someone else in there, she'd challenge them to air hockey. A smile spread on her face. She thought she'd have fun. She took the elevator to the second floor, but stopped as she reached the doors. There was a noise coming from inside.
She frowned. She knew the tune... but it was on a piano... She hummed a bar. "I am everything you want... I am everything you need..." There was a voice, too. Vertical Horizon. Her ears had identified the top 40 song. She cracked open the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the singer, but wanting to hear more clearly. She slipped in, letting the door close silently behind her, and stood. Astonishment fell through her as she stared at the back of a very bleached blonde head.
"Out of the island.. Into the highway.. Pass the places were you might have turned.
You never did notice... But you still hide away.. The anger of angels you won't return.
He's everything you want. He's everything you need. He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be.
He says all the right things at exactly the right time. But he means nothing to you and you don't know why.
I am everything you want. I am everything you need. I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be.
I say all the right things at exactly the right time, But I mean nothing to you and I don't know... why.
And I don't know... Why? Why? Why?
And I don't know...." The piano wound down at the end of the song. Spike was panting slightly. It took a lot to keep up with that beat.
Buffy applauded with three deliberate claps, coming to stand behind him.
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around and freezing when he saw who was behind him. "Oh, bugger."
"I thought Giles was lying."
He sat back down on the piano bench. "Damn. He told you?"
"Yup."
The vampire sighed. "Remind me to... I don't know. Speak very sternly at him later."
She grinned. "Kinda sucks that you can't tear his throat out now, huh?"
Spike chuckled. "I've never really wanted to, anyway."
She grinned again. "Good. Watcher's aren't supposed to get killed anyway. Just their Slayers."
"I haven't had much luck in that department as of late."
Kept grinning. "Lucky me."
He cocked his head sideways, looked up at her. "Any reason you're down here interrupting me, Slayer?" No malice in the tone. Genuine interest.
She shrugged. "Bored. I was gonna play pinball. Already took a bubble bath."
Spike shook his head to rid himself of the sudden image of Buffy... naked.. covered in suds... Oh god...
She waved a hand in his face. "Um... in there?"
He snapped back. "Huh? Oh. Sorry. I was... thinking." Looked at her again. "Pinball, huh? You any good?"
"Kinda. Reflexes, all that. I like air hockey better though."
He stood up. "Care for a challenge then?"
Sly smile. "You're on."
He grinned and followed her to the air hockey table.
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It was officially four thirty in the morning, and they were tied, two games apiece, and were on the sixth point in the oh-so-important fifth, tie-breaking game. As with true battles, they were showing their colors on the air-hockey 'court'. She was aggressively defensive, while he was dangerously offensive. If there had been on-lookers, they would have been excited.
Spike kept slamming that poor little disc as hard as he could, nearly sending it flying off the table a few times. His eyes flashed with excitement, and he continually looked at his worthy opponent, gauging her level of exhaustion. They were even on that as well.
Her pride was the only thing keeping her in this game. She knew it. She caught his eye, and leaned forward over the table slightly, the front of her shirt gapping slightly.
The distraction worked, whether or not it was intended. Spike's interest was momentarily focused on Buffy's.. ahem... chest area.. and the disc flew straight into his goal. He tossed the paddle onto the table. "DAMN!"
She leaned back up, and shook her head. "I win."
He snorted at her. "I'm sure you cheated somehow."
She shrugged. "Hey. Whatever works."
He sat back on the piano seat, sulking.
She laughed. "Giles always says that I should use my body." Frowned. "But I'm not sure he meant it like that."
Another snort. Turned around, began playing a classical piece. Moonlight Sonata.
Buffy tilted her head to the side. "I have a music box that plays that."
Didn't even pause. Continued playing, eyes closed. "First piece I ever learned."
She smiled. "I never learned to play anything."
He stopped his playing. "Want me to teach you something?"
She pulled back slightly. "No." Laughing smile. "I mean. Wow, would I suck."
He moved over, patting the seat next to him. "You can do it. Tell you what, since you know the tune, I'll teach you the left hand of Moonlight, and I'll play the right. A duet."
She frowned and sat down lightly, apprehensively. She REALLY hated doing things she'd suck at.
He nodded at her. "Ok. Watch me." He played the opening cords of Moonlight. Just the same three notes, over and over, six times. "Now you."
She did it, slowly, clumsily, and missed a key twice. Pouted at them.
He cocked his head at the piano, then at Buffy. "Ok. Another tactic. Give me your left hand." He turned slightly and held out his own left hand for hers.
She extended it slowly. He took her hand, positioned it over the keys, holding his own hand over the back of hers. "Now, close your eyes, and I'm going to guide your fingers to the right keys. Get you used to feeling how you have to reach."
She gave him a look, then closed her eyes. Slowly, his fingers pressed on hers, causing her to find the right keys. As he did so, he began playing the right hand portion as well. After a moment, he stopped guiding her, and let the music do it. She played perfectly.
Her eyes opened and she missed a key. She grinned anyway. "I was playing that. Did you hear?"
He grinned back at her. "I did. I told you that you could do it."
She closed her eyes again, and let her fingers find the keys. Played her half of the intro over and over again.
Spike grinned at her, and slowly brought her other hand up, repeating the process. Soon, she was playing the first minute of the song flawlessly. She swayed slightly as she played, a small smile turning just the corners of her lips. Spike moved down to the far end of the bench. Watched her for a moment, then began playing at the low end of the scale, right along with her, causing the song to resonate with the deeper tones he added. Somehow, it made it warmer, and lonelier at the same time. Hoping she'd take the hint, Spike slowed his playing, and finally stopped right along with her, adding a low scale flourish to the end. Her fingers slowed and stopped as he ended with a flourish and she opened her eyes reluctantly.
He just smiled at her. "Beautiful."
She ducked her head slightly to run her fingers gently over the smooth keys.
He just kept smiling at her. "And you thought you would suck."
A slow smile curved her lips. "I played the Moonlight Sonata." Stopped, gave a small frown. "Well, ya know, kinda, but not really, but I did do the one part."
Spike chuckled. "It's all basically the same. Just move up and down the scale as you play. Your Watcher will be proud of you for trying."
She grinned. "He'll have a heart attack."
Spike grinned back, turned back to the piano, started playing scales slowly.
Buffy tapped a key here and there, but wasn't doing much.
He cocked his head at her. "Got a request? Or do you want me to show you something else?"
She got off the bench, sprawled out on the floor. "Go ahead and play something."
He thought for a moment. A minuet flowed from the piano.
She lifted her head from where it was resting on her arms. "Whassat?"
"Minuet in G. Bach."
Her head dropped back down. "Oh." In minutes, she was asleep.
He stopped his playing, gazing down at the sleeping Slayer. Slowly, he got up, bent down, and lifted her into his arms. He was half expecting her to wake up and beat the living hell out of him, but she didn't. He headed for the elevator.
She let out a pouty sigh, turned her head into the sleeve on his upper arm, squirmed a moment, then quieted down again.
Spike had frozen for a moment when she moved and it was all he could do to keep his knees under his own control when she snuggled closer to him. He pressed the elevator button with an elbow. As he stood there waiting for the elevator, he couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little too thin. Her ribs, while not prominent, were showing where her shirt had ridden up slightly when she'd moved. Spike let out a quiet sigh. All this worrying about Dawn, and before that, Joyce, and everything was taking more of a toll on her than she was letting on.
The elevator came, and he stepped in, pressing the fifth floor button with his elbow again. Got off, walked to the room that Buffy had been sharing with Dawn. It was seven o'clock on a Saturday morning, and they had cable for the first time in a week. He assumed that Dawn would be up. He tapped on the door with his foot, called quietly, "Bit? Open up, it's me."
He heard a groan, and slight stumble. The door swung open. The Key gazed at him through bleary eyes. Became intensely afraid when she saw her sister in his arms. The fear jolted through her body and she reached for Buffy, a silent cry falling from her lips.
Spike saw her scared look, and shook his head. "She just fell asleep in the rec room, Bit. I was down there, so I brought her back."
The relief spiraled through her system, and she heaved out a sigh and turned down the blankets on Buffy's bed for Spike.
The vampire stood outside the door. "Uh, Bit? Invitation..."
"Oh! Umm.. come in."
Spike walked in and laid the unconscious Slayer on her bed, removing her socks and pulling the covers up over her. Then he turned to leave.
Dawn stalled him with a hand on his arm. "Wanna have breakfast? We can eat in your room so Buffy can sleep?"
He stopped, then. "Well, I guess it's okay. How about you leave her a note first, so that we don't have a repeat of the Ohana incident?"
She grinned, and scribbled a note on the back of the paper Buffy had left for her, and folded it into a card to sit in front of the TV. She pulled Spike along by his wrist. "Come on. Moonlighting's on at 7:30 in the morning's."
He groaned and let her lead him back to his room. Unlocked the door and let them in. "Is room service open this early?"
A big smile. "Opens at six am."
He grinned, flopped on the bed and picked up the phone. "What do you want?"
"Eggs, and bacon, and waffles, and syrup. And tea, and juice and water."
He gave a shrug. "Why don't I just ask them for one of everything, Bit? What you don't eat, I will. Or we can make doggie bags for the Ohana."
She smiled. "Okay."
He placed the order, and walked over to where she was on the couch. Sat down, leaned back. "Ok. All ordered. Now we just wait. What's on on Saturday mornings?"
She made a face. "Cartoons suck beyond the stretch of ANY imagination. So! Like I said. Moonlighting." Dawn gave a charming grin. "Bruce Willis is too cool."
Spike chuckled and flipped on the TV, settling back to watch the rerun that he'd already seen like, had to be over a thousand times now. Oh well. It was for Dawn.
She was delighted. She loved the show, and liked Spike's company. He was too cool, too. And he didn't HAVE to be a PI to be cool. Cuz SPIKE was a VAMPIRE.
As if to prove her unspoken point, Spike yawned, showing fangs for a moment. It made the yawn and stretch more comfortable to the vampire.
She hid a small smile. Even cooler, a vampire who liked her and didn't want to eat her.
Finishing his stretch, Spike dug in his jeans pocket and fished out his pack of cigs and his lighter. Took one, lit it, took a long drag. Now he could relax.
Without hesitating once, she reached over as she had a week before, plucking the cigarette out of his hands, and drew off it. Like a pro, even tilting her head back a bit for that final intake. Handed it back, slipping it in his fingers.
Spike snatched it back. "DAWN!"
Arched a brow at him, blew the smoke out easily. "Spike."
"What do you think you're doing?", he railed at her. "Smoking is bad for humans!"
She nodded calmly, watched him take a haggard drag. Blew the smoke out. "I'm not human, so I can't get lung cancer and whatever else it'll give you. Never do that again."
She gave him a lazy look, snatched it from his fingers again. Drew off it hard, deep. And held her smoke as she said, pointing to the reddened end of the cigarette, "This... is twenty times worse for me," she blew out the stream of smoke as she talked, "than this." She pointed at the filtered end. "So." She leaned over the edge, tapped it against an ash tray, thus shortening the cigarette. "I'd rather breathe in five times as bad, than twenty." Took another, shorter puff.
Spike grumbled something about 'know it all teenagers', took the cig back, and ground it out in the ashtray. "Happy now?"
She gave him an innocent's smile. "Aren't you? You aren't slowly poisoning my system to the point of a sluggish, cancer-ridden, joy and health depriving death."
He thought for a moment. "I can't feel guilt, you know, so that won't work."
She batted her eyes at him, but not obviously. Just a couple slow blinks. "I thought you said you'd always take care of me." A small frown line formed between her eyebrows.
"I will always take care of you. I said I can't feel guilt, not devotion."
A slow frown was forming at the corners of her mouth. "So... if I died in your care, you wouldn't feel bad?"
Spike thought. "Yeah, I would. I'd.. miss you. I just.." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. I just don't know. Everything used to make sense, and now nothing does." He glanced at her. "Well... almost nothing."
She gave him her best smile. "What makes sense?"
"You. Buffy. And nothing else."
She snorted. "Yeah. Cuz... Buffy makes sense... Uh huh. Was that before or after you got the memo about hell freezing over?"
"I meant my feelings, my emotions. They make sense. Everything else doesn't."
She nodded. "It doesn't have to make sense to be nice, ya know?"
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Tell me about it. She's my mortal enemy, and here I am, on vacation with her family, watching TV with her little sister."
Dawn gave him a haughty sigh. "Please. *I* am the sister of the chosen one, but not really. Just a mystical ball of energy, strategically placed, and am friends with my sister's mortal enemy."
He thought about the best way to say what he was thinking. "Dawn. What's your earliest memory?"
She thought hard for a moment, the frown melting into a reminiscing smile. "I was... little. I dunno. Two or three. And we were at a park in LA. I was playing in a sandbox, and Buffy was playing with me, and Mom was sitting on a bench, watching us. Why?"
"In your mind, that really happened, right?"
She shrugged. "In a way. But... I know now, so... it's REAL, but it's... sometimes I know it's fake and it makes me sad."
"You remember it. Buffy remembers it. Joyce remembered it. Memories make the person. They shape who we are. The things I like and dislike now were shaped very early on. I wouldn't be me without my memories." He sighed, gathered his thoughts. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... It doesn't matter if the memories are real, or manufactured by monks, or whatever. They are a part of you. A wonderful part that shapes the young woman that you are becoming. And you know what?"
She suddenly looked very hopeful, very vulnerably, and very young. "What?"
"I care for you, Dawn. I love you. You. Not some mystical Key with monk memories. You. Remember that when you start feeling that you're not real. You are as real as the people who care about you. That makes you more real than most of the people on this miserable planet."
A slow, sweet smile spread across her face, and her shoulders drew up a little bit. She dropped her head in a half nod. "Thank you."
He leaned back with a grin. "Not a problem, Bit." There was a knock at the door. "Oh. That must be our food."
She rubbed her hands together. "Good... Cuz, like... Starving, much?"
Spike got up, opened the door and took the loaded cart from the guy who'd brought it, giving him a couple of dollars for a tip, and wheeled the cart to in between the couch and the coffee table.
Halfway between Dawn and Spike's grappling fight for the last waffle, a knock sounded on his door. They paused. Spike looked at her. "Did you order something else?"
Eyes wide, she shook her head no.
He got up slowly and made his way to the door, the predatory walk obvious. Called, "Who is it?"
"Me."
Spike relaxed, called to Dawn. "It's big sis, Bit." He opened the door. "Come on in, luv. I'm sure we've got something edible left."
A sleep-tousled Buffy walked in the door, giving him a half-smile. "S'ok. Just wanted to sit and say morning. Not really hungry." She ran her fingers through Dawn's hair by way of greeting, and the chewing teen nodded.
Spike followed her back to the couch, handed her a muffin. "You need to eat, luv. You're starting to look like a pencil with ribs."
She was decidedly affronted. "I do NOT!"
He chuckled. Looked at Dawn for support.
She gave a grudging shrug and nodded. Swallowed. "You are skinny."
Buffy gave her sister a good glare, and ripped off a hunk of the muffin to chew on. "I am not *skinny*," she said as thought it was most insulting thing ever.
Spike hid a chuckle. "Women are confusing, if you ask me. They don't want to be fat, and they don't want to be skinny. What the bloody hell do you want?"
"To be perfect," the Summers' echoed together.
He looked at one, then the other. "Well. You're there."
Dawn smiled, while Buffy rolled her eyes, shoving another bite of muffin in her mouth to plug up the smart remark begging to fall out from her lips.
Spike got up, stretched, yawned, and walked over to the bed, flopping down on his stomach.
Buffy couldn't dispute the sentiment. She had just come in to check on Dawn. She looked like hell, she was sure, hair mussed from sleep, sleepy eyes and wrinkled jammas. Not that it mattered. It was Spike.
His head lolled back so that he could see the sisters on the couch. "Did the Watcher say if we're leaving again today, or did he get the two day package?"
Buffy smiled lazily. "Two day package. I found their gym."
The vampire's eyes locked on Buffy. "Really, now?"
A small smile lit her lips and something fired her eyes. "They have a yoga room that no one ever uses."
Spike actually licked his lips. "Hmm. Padded floors. Lots of space..."
Dawn's eyes grew large, and she gagged on her toast, in her rush to get out, "Oh my God!"
Spike cocked his head, which looked silly, considering he was still upside down. Unknowingly, he said a Scoobyism. "What's your damage, Bit?"
A sick look on her face, she remembered that it was NOT her business. "Nothing. No damage." Stood. "I'm... um... full. I'm gonna... get ready for the day." Looked at her sister... well, around her sister. AT her was a little too much right now. "Key?"
Buffy reached in the waistband of her jamma pants, and handed Dawn a plastic key. She sped from the room.
Spike shifted his gaze from the now closed door to Buffy. "What's wrong with her?"
She shrugged, still focusing on the up-coming fight. "I wonder if the door locks..."
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Buffy smiled at Spike from across the room. It wasn't friendly. It was feral. Predatory. Her loose pants and tight tank top were in place, her hair was up. She was wearing only socks. She was ready.
Spike had a very similar look on his face, accentuated by fangs and glowing eyes. He wore one of his black beaters that was hugging his abs and ribs slightly, and a pair of black jeans. They'd agreed on socks before hand, to give them both the same disadvantage. He growled low in his throat, a 'bring it on' growl.
She flung herself into the spar with abandon. Half jab here, full punch there.
He had to physically remind himself not to WANT to hurt her, as he blocked her jabs and threw ones of his own.
She tossed a punch at his ribs, knew he'd block especially well there, and while he WAS blocking, landed a punch on his cheek.
It knocked him off balance... and pissed him off. His next punch was accurate, and it was meant to be. He froze, waiting for the chip to go off. It didn't. He stood there stupidly for a moment. Until Buffy tackled him and knocked him down, hard, on his back.
She planted a soft fist over his unbeating heart, miming staking him. "I paid twenty bucks for that?"
In a swift move, his leg hooked around her's and he reversed it, pinning her completely. "No. You paid $20 for this." Leaned forward, fangs less than an inch from her throat. Whispered in her ear, "I win."
She bucked her hips, hard, and ducked her head, rolling them both over her shoulder, clamped one hand on his chin, the other in his hair. "Snap."
He snorted at her, but couldn't move. "Fine. Bloody hell."
She gave him an arrogant grin, felt something where their bodies connected, but stood smoothly, ignoring it, with all the Denial in Egypt. "Round two?"
He stood up, shaking himself a little. "That wasn't even round one. That was warm up." He launched himself at her, intending to test his new theory about his chip, and launched into a flurry of punches and kicks that should have set it off a dozen times over. But didn't.
She was blocking, making her own attacks, not even thinking that he was thinking to harm her. She landed a solid kick to his chest, sending him back a couple of paces.
She tried to tackle him, same as before, but this Master had a few tricks up his sleeves. He jumped straight up in the air, and she ran under him. It was like something out of The Matrix. When he came down, he took advantage of her disorientation to pin her on her stomach to the mat, straddling her back. Sitting on her. "I win."
The words whispered at her, and she jerked her head back, smacking him in the forehead with the back of her skull, trying to dislodge him.
He snarled at her, but didn't move. "That wasn't nice, Slayer."
She was still, searching her mind for something, anything. To her surprise, he got off her. Sat on the mat about a foot away, just looking at her.
She rolled to her side to look at him. "How do I get out of something like that?"
He chuckled. "I don't know. You probably could have arched your back really fast. Buck me off. But in the time you were laying there trying to figure out what to do, I had enough time to drain you twice."
She gave a contemplative frown. "Could have grabbed your forearms, ducked my head, came into a roll. Damnit."
"Just be glad that I didn't think of this a few years ago."
She nodded, but was only half-listening. She was going over it again in her head, calculating, trying the moves.
Spike, meanwhile, was going over calculations of his own. He knew the chip had been working less than a week ago. It had gone off when he hit the Knight with the... sword... And it had gone off for longer than ever... and tapered down instead of just shutting off.. What if it had overloaded? Did that mean that it would never work again? And if so, why didn't he just leave the Scoobies right then? Go out and have himself a good bloodbath? He didn't know. Well, maybe he would. Later. Except.. What would Dawn think? And Buffy? Oh god, Buffy. She'd think she'd been right about him all along. Everything he'd done, all he'd suffered through, would have been for nothing. So, no. No hunting for him. Not anytime soon, anyway.
She looked at him, and stood. "Again."
He didn't look up from his internal musings.
"Spike!"
He jumped. "What? Huh?"
She tapped her stocking foot impatiently. "Not paying you to sit on your ass."
He shook his head. "Oh, yeah. Right." Struck a fight stance.
She shook her head, laid down on the mat, on her stomach. "Pin me."
He cocked his head for a moment, then got on top of her in the same position that he'd been in earlier.
She tried arching her back quickly, attempted to buck him off. He gripped her sides with his knees, effectively holding on. She swore under her breath, a fine sheen of sweat glistening over her back and arms. She reached back quickly, yanking forcefully on his forearms, her head ducking in for a shoulder roll. This caused her to be laying on her back, on his stomach. His mouth dangerously close to her neck. Obviously, this particular escape wouldn't work either, really.
Meanwhile, Spike was slowly being driven crazy. To have the Slayer.. his Slayer.. this close. He could do it. Just turn your head a little, open your mouth... NO! He forcibly turned his head the other way and pushed his demon down, returning to his human mask.
She stood, stomped her foot. "Damnit."
He just lay there, half panting from the strength it took to control his demon. Rolled on his stomach, but didn't get up.
She frowned. "I suppose, worse to worse, and that happens, I can just nail them in the ribs and jump up, yeah?"
He nodded, not wanting to open his mouth at that particular moment.
She sighed disgustedly. She'd run the move with Giles, get his opinion later. "Up for a few more?"
He moved into a sitting position. "Can I.. call a rain check? I.. I don't feel so good right now."
She gave a disappointed frown. "Ok." She went to leave the room, then turned. "You might wanna go get some blood, Spike. You look kinda.... out of it."
He gave her a slow nod. "I'll go out to the Ohana as soon as it gets dark." There was... a shadow in his eyes. Like he was sick or something. He climbed to his feet. What if he hurt Dawn accidentally? Or Buffy? God, he'd been so close... He walked past her, heading back to the elevator, his walk a little shaky.
She nodded, followed him to the elevator, intending to take a shower. "Tell ya what, I'll just send Dawn down for a few bags, she can drop them off at your room."
He turned quickly. "No!" Shook his head, said quieter, "No. I'll be fine, luv. I just... need some sleep, or something." Walked into the elevator when it came.
She followed him into it, keeping a few feet between them. "Are you sure you're ok?"
He didn't.. wouldn't look at her, afraid he'd lose it again. "I'm fine. Just tired, that's all. It's been... a really long week."
All in all, to her, it had been a lazy one, but... whatever. "You might wanna go out tonight. Ya know... get something into your system. You've been doing nothing for a week."
Yeah. Go out. Hunt. Kill. He could. He wanted to.... Didn't he? "I'm starting to like doing nothing."
Slow grin. "It's nice for a change."
Spike risked a look at her. "Yeah. I guess it is nice. But I might go out, ya know? Just... find something to ki-... do."
Buffy nodded as the elevator stopped. She stepped out, went down her side of the hall. "Good luck finding anything."
She didn't notice, but the eyes that watched her enter her room glowed golden yellow. "Oh. I think it'll be pretty easy..."
========================================================================== ===========
Spike stalked through the alleys near the hotel. Past the third Starbucks, and a theater, his black duster blowing in the breeze slightly. Every person that passed him was a snack food. A snack food that he was no longer on a diet from. He was searching, though. The first victim had to be special. Perfect. Not too tall, not too short.. and at least ten pints worth. The thought of the fresh, hot blood that would soon be coursing down his throat filled him with predatory excitement. He'd almost forgotten. THIS was what life was about. Hunting. Killing. Finding the perfect... Ooh. She'd do nicely. A low rumble echoed from his throat as he began the second phase of the hunt, singling out his prey...
She was walking, black hair shining, green eyes smiling. She walked with confidence. She was intelligent, young, and the world was at her feet. A college student, home for the summer. Nothing better. She felt a sliver of unease crawl up her spine. Turned her head, but didn't see anyone. She felt... followed. Watched. She shrugged it off, kept walking. But the feeling, as well as her anxiety were growing. She turned quickly down what she thought was a side street. Oh shit. An alley. An alley, an alley. Her mom would kill her for this when she got home... she'd refuse to let her leave the house for a month, and she would let her. Whatever was behind her had left. She let out a sigh of relief.
This was the moment that Spike relished the most. While the human was looking behind her, he slipped in front of her, causing her to nearly smack into him. He still wore his human visage, but that changed when the girl looked at him.
She screamed. Began to back away.
Spike moved faster than she could see, catching her, saying quietly, "It'll hurt a lot less if you hold still, ducks." His lips curled back, revealing the gleaming fangs beneath.
Her hand began fumbling around her neck, for the necklace that she usually had faithfully around her neck, began to cry, huge tears streaming down her cheeks. "Hail Mary, full of grace, come to us in the hour of our need..." The prayer broke off in a terrified, "Oh God..." A sob, a struggle. "Please... No...."
Spike gazed down at her, his golden eyes shining. Ran his tongue over his teeth. What was wrong with him? He'd usually killed the human by now! He sniffed at her, trying to get himself worked up to feed, and instead getting a nose full of what smelled like Dawn's shampoo. He froze, not letting her go, and not killing her. His stare didn't waver, but softened for an instant, then it was back to the same predatory gleam that had been there since before he'd left the hotel.
She saw the split second of relenting. Latched on to it like a lifeline. "Please... God, please... M-mommy... my mom... Oh God..." The plea wasn't as eloquent as she'd have liked it, but it was all her panic- addled brain could choke past her lips. All she could think about. Her mother... Her poor mom ID-ing her body... Slight whimper... sadly, as if feeling mourning for her mother, for herself already, "Oh, mom..."
Spike lost it, his mind filled with thoughts of Dawn, of Joyce, of Buffy. He couldn't do this, he was wrong to think he could. He released the girl and backed up, sitting on a box against the wall.
The girl gave him a look that lasted maybe a quarter of a second, whimpered a quick thanks to God and darted from the alley. Spike was still sitting there when he heard her scream a moment later. His head shot up, golden eyes flashing. He followed her scent, finding her in the arms of a big yellow/green demon who was about to slit her throat. He roared and leaped onto it's back, causing it to drop the girl. "RUN!"
She stumbled back, curling to a ball on the ground, free from the demon, but unable to move. Too much... Too much...
With a little trouble, including a claw slash across his arm, Spike broke the demon's neck. Then, exhausted, he collapsed on top of the corpse.
She looked at her savior. And broke down in tears. It was apparent to her that she was meant to die tonight. She would die with honor. And dignity. She firmed her resolve, made the sign of the cross, saying a Hail Mary, and a quick prayer that her mother would never find out that she had sex with Jon Holtz on the couch while her mom was in Florida. She took a deep breath, and turned to where Spike was now standing. She looked at him with the bravest sincerity in her eyes, and dropped to her knees in front of him.
Spike just stood there, cradling his injured arm. "What're you doin'? I told you to run." The words were said in a voice thick with untold emotion and exhaustion. He sat on an overturned garbage can, examining his wound.
It hit her then. She wasn't dying tonight. She didn't have to. She could go home, and snuggle on the couch with her cat, call her dad, remind him she loved him, and hug her mother. She regained her feet slowly.
Spike stayed sitting, his body shaking slightly. What was he doing out here anyway? He sniffed at the wound in his arm, but didn't even have the energy to lick at the blood.
The girl crossed to him, slowly. Pulled from her purse a small med kit. Just some gauze, and tape and bandages. Pushed up the sleeve of his duster, smoothed the gauze over it, taping it in place. She was bent over his arm, her hair blowing in the late night breeze, and the scent of it came back to Spike like a slap in the face.
"...Dawn..", he whispered to himself. "Oh god, I could have hurt Dawn..." A single tear ran from his now blue eyes and blazed a trail down his cheek. "Don't help me," he said to the girl. "I'm a monster, or didn't you notice?"
She looked at him, with the eyes of youth, but not necessarily innocence. She had seen things. Been through things. She was strong and kind. But not foolish. "You saved me, too. And you didn't kill me. Twice."
He brought up his other hand and rubbed his forehead. "I know." Sighed. "I'm having a really bad day." Looked at her curiously. "What's your name?"
"Madison." She returned his look. "What's yours?"
"Sp-..." Paused. "William."
She smiled. "My little brother's name is William."
He cocked his head. "Really?" He looked around. "Do you live near here? I don't want you gettin' pounced by anymore nasties tonight."
She nodded. "About a quarter mile down the road."
He stood up. "I'll walk with you. Make sure you make it safely."
She nodded, not questioning the oddity of it. But halfway to her home, she stopped in the glare of a streetlight, and asked, "What are you, anyway?"
He paused. Thought. Until this night, being a vampire had made him proud. He was a killing machine, and good at what he did. But now, something had changed. He said honestly, "I used to know. It used to be easy. Now... I'm not sure anymore. But if you want a species, I'm a vampire."
Her eyes grew wide. She murmured in Spanish a moment. "My... my mother... She's Hispanic. They have a holiday in Spain, celebrating the dead. She'll be impressed to know that not all the dead stay that way."
He chuckled, a hollow sound. "Yeah. But some of us wish we were."
She stared at him, light and depth resonating from her voice. "There's light in you. Good. Not all, not by a long shot. But it is there. Why, Mr. William the Vampire, didn't you kill me?" The question was lightly posed, but she wanted an answer.
He looked at her. "Because... Because you reminded me of someone. And.. I know what it's like to lose a family member. More than once. I don't know why, but I couldn't put your family through it."
She smiled sadly at him. "Everyone has a family. Someone who cares. Someone who'll mourn a passing." She shrugged. "I'm not exclusive or special in that way."
"Not me. They died a long time ago. Over a hundred years ago, actually."
She cocked her head to the side. "And the girl I reminded you of? She wouldn't miss you?"
Spike ducked his head. Said quietly, "Her name's Dawn. She would probably miss me. But no one else. Even the woman I love with my whole heart can't let herself trust me."
"Do you trust yourself?" The girl, Madison, posed the question.
"Right now? I honestly don't know. I don't think so."
She gave him a quietly searching look. "Yet this woman should?"
He leaned against the lamp post. "No. I guess not. I've just... I've been trying... So hard for so long. And still... She just sees me as Dawn's pet or her own personal punching bag." Deep sigh. "I just don't know what to do."
She made a confused face. "She can hurt you?"
"She's what's known as a Vampire Slayer. There's only one in every generation. I've killed two. But this one... She.. got in. I still don't know how."
Madison, like most, was a romantic at heart. "A vampire and a... Slayer? How... contradictory."
He gave that hollow chuckle again. "Yeah. Bleedin' Romeo and Juliet. Except that her family tolerates me. For Dawn. Dawn's the Slayer's sister."
"And Dawn... loves you?"
"She says she does. I know I love her." He laughed again. "Which I'm not supposed to be capable of. Vampires do not posses a human soul. Can not feel remorse, guilt, or love. I'm the contradiction."
She smiled, genuinely. "Thank God for me."
He chuckled again, a genuine one. "Yeah. Put in a good word for me when you go to confessional." They were outside her house by then. Spike paused, not really wanting to say goodbye. This night had been life changing. Just not in the way he'd originally thought. "I guess you've got to go now, huh?"
She shrugged. "Everyone's asleep." She dug in her purse a moment, then pulled up a chain, with a charm attached to it. She smiled engagingly at him. "I'm Irish-Hispanic. How's THAT for a blend? My mother's hair, my father's eyes and a blend from their skin."
He gave a half grin. "You're talking to a human/demon hybrid, ducks. You've got nothing on me."
She smiled, and held out the pendant to him. "My father gave this to me. It's a Celtic knot. A passages knot. It's to guide a person at crossroads. The green stone above it is malachite. It's to protect the wearer, and promotes physical and spiritual well-being." A warm, genuinely caring glance. "I think you need it more than I do, now."
He felt his eyes tear up and blinked back violently. "I can't take that, Madison. It's your's. You don't even know me."
She moved as if to hug him but really hooked the necklace on him. "You don't have to take it. I'm giving it to you. And I know you well enough to know that it's going to be hard for you, and that Dawn, and this other woman, they're lucky to have you."
Spike stood there, blinking, his hand finding the necklace and fingering it. "What if... if your dad wants to know what happened to it?"
She shrugged. "It was for me to pass it along when I saw fit. I'll tell him that it found someone else to guide."
Spike leaned against a parked car, not even thinking about his non reflection in the mirrors. "I.. thank you, Madison. I'll take good care of it."
She smiled, and nodded. Took out a scrap of paper, scribbled a few things down on it, then handed him the paper. "To call, or write, if you ever want to, or need to. You're welcome to my home."
He stared at the paper. "Thanks... I'll remember that." He fished around in his pockets, found a scrap of receipt from who knows what. Took a pen out of his duster's interior pocket and scribbled down a phone number. "This is to the cell phone of a... friend of mine. When you call, ask for Spike. We'll probably be on the road again starting tomorrow, but I'll call you when we stop again." Handed her the paper.
She smiled. Looked at him. "Spike." Fit the name to the image, to the man. Nodded.
"Thanks again," he said quietly, looking at the curb.
She stood on the curb, a bit closer to his eye-level now, and held his shoulders firmly in her hands, and pulled him to her in a hug. No fear. Just like Dawn.
He was tense at first, then calmed, wrapped his arms around her for a moment as well.
She placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, then said, "This girl...? Her name?"
Said quietly, with all the love in his heart, "Buffy."
Madison nodded. "She's foolish, if she doesn't see your heart." Kissed his forehead again. "I'll pray that your passages are guided, and those in your heart safe."
He felt his heart melt. Same as with Dawn. "Thank you." He hugged her quickly, one last time, then watched as she headed up the walk to her house.
She turned as she opened the door, to wave and say, "Remember. You're always welcome."
"I know. I will. Goodnight, Madison."
"Goodnight, Spike." The door closed, and locked behind her. Soon enough, a light in the upstairs came on.
Spike watched the light for awhile, then turned and headed back for the hotel, his heart feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. He could feel the sunrise coming. As he walked, his hand kept finding it's way to the necklace. Madison had been right. Now that he knew the right path, he only had to follow it. He sighed. Which meant that he would have to tell Buffy about the chip. And he would. Next time it came up.
READ THIS!!!! Ok. Thank you. Hey... guys, let me know what you think of her, ok? Please? It means a lot to me. *bites lip nervously*Madison will be a recurring character, but it will NEVER be a romantic relationship. Ever. TOTAL B/S-er's writing here. Did I mention to try to be kind? Please? Thanks so much. Always.(waiting with baited breath) Tequila