Chapter 8: Loyalties

Hey, Spike!

I was so happy to hear from you so quickly. I'm glad Buffy got there okay. I knew she'd find you eventually. So, did she tell you why she's there? She wouldn't tell me. I went to bed one night and she came storming in after patrol demanding to see your letters. Don't fret, my pet, I didn't let her read a thing, much to her dismay. Then, next thing I knew I was driving her to the airport. Go figure. On the plus side, since I'm out of school for a bit, I have complete control over the Magic Box! What do you think Buffy would do if she came back and I painted the walls bright pink???

Speaking of vacations, I would love to see you!!! Sometimes I can't believe it's been so long. Why don't you and Buffy fly back to Sunnydale after 'business' is done? Then, once you are here, we can head out and go wherever you want. I could go for Argentina and seeing Clem. Strange to think of him as a married man. I want to see pictures!!! I can't believe Buffy went! So, was she your date? I'm glad you're talking about 'things.' My only warning to you is don't get bogged down in the past. There are better places to be. Ooh, look at that, I'm all philosophical! Yeah me! Alrighty, write back soon. Could you give me the number to the house too? I'd like to talk to my sister sometime. Thanks, Spike.

Love Always,
Dawn

P.S. Don't just work either. Buffy's never been to England. Catch my drift?



"Hear from Dawn?" Buffy asked as Spike closed his laptop. He'd been checking his mail every few hours since they woke up that morning, hoping to hear from her.

"Yes, I did."

When it became clear that he was not going to elaborate, Buffy ventured forth. "Did she say anything about me?"

"She's happy to hear things are going well on your trip and she suggests that you don't spend all your time working."

Buffy mused on that for a minute. "And what, pray tell, does she suggest as an alternative?"

"She said I should take you out and show you the city, the non- demon part," he admitted.

"I could be up for some of that."

"Play time for the Slayer then?"

"Come on, Spike. We've been working hard. And what can we do until Leila makes another appearance here? For all we know she's still in Argentina, although I doubt it. Besides, I don't want to go back to the States with nothing to show for my trip across the pond."

"Very well then. We'll go out tonight, do the town good and proper."

"If 'doing the town proper' means you'll be in the cemeteries tonight then I hope you have a good time."

The vampire and the Slayer turned to the man who was about to kill their fun.

"I don't recall letting you in, boy," Spike sneered.

"The name is Colin, Mr. Spike. I address you properly; I trust you to do the same." Spike growled at the young man, but Colin remained stoic. "Mr. Giles was kind enough to let me in. Miss Summers, your presence is requested by my father for this afternoon at the Council's quarters."

"What does Quentin want now?" Buffy groaned.

"Since your last visit from the Council and considering the delicate situation in which we now find ourselves, there are some new weapons he would like you be proficient in."

"And what about me? Spike interjected. "Don't I get any new toys?"

Colin faced the vampire. How he loathed the creature. He never understood why his father insisted on his constant presence in the Council. He must be useful in some fashion but in what, Colin was not sure. Spike's job was a simple one, pummel and kill. "As of right now, Mr. Spike, you are the muscle of the operation. Use your hands and all that rot." Colin turned to Buffy and smiled. "May we be expecting you, Miss Summers?"

"Call me Buffy."

"Very well, Buffy, may we expect you?"

"I suppose so."

"Brilliant. I'll have the car waiting for you in an hour." Colin turned to leave, glancing once more at Spike. He was satisfied with the brassed off vamp he left in his wake.

"I really don't like that pillock!" Spike exclaimed. "Why did he have to come all the way over here? He could have phoned."
Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "My guess is Daddy wants his boy to keep an eye on us, but that innocent look doesn't fool me."

Spike snorted. "He's anything but innocent; I can smell it a mile away."

"It's no wonder to me that you have so many friends," Buffy mumbled, knowing full well Spike heard her. "So," she began, closing the magazine that was not occupying any of her time, "what now? Is Giles working on the scanned pages?"

Spike looked at her wide-eyed. "He tell you that?" he wondered.

"Last night," she answered. "He told me a few things about youroperations around here. It's so weird having you two work together and everything."

"Well, beats being a big pile of dust, doesn't it?"

"I guess so. What I don't understand is why Travers would keep vital information from you. He brought you here for a reason so why not use you as he intended?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Buffy shook her head. "This is what he intended, Buffy. We are better at this job than all his lackeys put together and he knows it. But, when it comes to the big stuff he trusts no one but himself. So, while we take care of everything else, he concentrates on the big guns."

"And you let him do this?" Buffy found that hard to believe.

"Let nothing. That Watcher of yours is a sneaky, tweed covered devil. We just haven't had any breaks in the last year that have been worth the effort."

"But, this Leila person, she's worth the effort?"

"Yes she is," he said simply.

Just then, Giles entered with the pages and cup of earl gray in his hands.

"Oh, good, you're here," Giles smiled as he set down his tea cup. "I suppose Colin informed you of Quentin's itinerary for today, Buffy?"

"Yes," Buffy pouted. "I really don't feel up to seeing that man again so soon after lunch. Just thinking about him makes me regret breakfast."

"No worries, pet. We'll get in a good spot of violence tonight, always makes you feel better, right?"

Buffy grinned at the thought. She hadn't had a good fight indays! Wow, she hadn't realized it had been so long. She was spending so much time with Spike and Spike's friends that she forgot about her restless Slayer urges to hit. It wasdifferent. But, now she wanted to make up for lost time.

"So, maybe I'll get to stake some British vamps after all." Her eyes dazzled as she jabbed the bleached blonde in the gut.

Spike clutched his stomach. "With that attitude, Slayer, maybe I'll just stand back and let some British baddie bite you."

"Oooohhh." Buffy pretended to be frightened. "'British baddie bite you.' Say that five times fast." Spiked leveled his gaze to her, not amused by her antics.

Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy, why don't you go change for training? I'll gather my things and join you there."

"Fine," she groaned, her fun interrupted as well as her afternoon. Spike smiled at her disappointment. Maybe they could be friends after all. "Guess I'll have to take a rain check on sight seeing," she said as she left the room.

"Will do, love," he answered.

"No, you won't, Spike," Giles said when he was certain Buffy was out of earshot.

"Why's that, Rupes?" The vamp reclined on the couch and observed the Watcher. He seemed rather on edge and from the smell of things, that wasn't simply earl gray is in his cup.

"I was thinking last night about something Quentin said. He said he was curious as to how Leila find out about an ancient text such as this one." Giles dropped the numerous pages onto Spike's lap. "So, how does one who has been basically enslaved for her entire existence discover the whereabouts of a supposedly deceased text?"

Spike stared at the pages he was given. For the most part, the words were gibberish to him. He could make out what seemed to be... Italian? andsome other demon language. It was different from any other language he had seen in print. There was no way she could read this. Could she? "She has help," Spike finally answered. "Do you have any idea what this says?"

The Watcher shook his head. "Not a bloody clue. Honestly, I don't think Quentin does either. He barely looked at the book before concluding its origin. He was being truthful."

Spike nodded his agreement. "So, the wanker probably only knows the book by name. So, who would know this language well enough to decipher it?"

"I think the question is who speaks this language and would also be willing to help Leila in her quest whatever it may be?"

"And who can we find to read it to help us in ours?" Spike countered.

Both men sat in silence for several moments. At the same time, they both uttered the same name. "O'Malley."

"He's the only one who we can trust to do this, isn't he?" Giles asked.

"You've trusted him before. What? You suddenly have an aversion to midgets?"

Giles sighed. How un-PC of him! "He's a leprechaun, Spike. You should know this, he's your friend. And no, I don't hold anything against him, except the fact that he is your friend, that is."

Spike laughed at the former librarian. The man just didn't understand why a good natured leprechaun like Shamus O'Malley would want to befriend the former Big Bad. "O'Malley will help us. And I do mean us, not the Council. I don't want to share anything till we know what Leila is after.

Wouldn't dream of it, Giles drawled with a smile, his tea cup at his lips. He did enjoy playing two sides, even though he was always loyal to his own side, his and Spike's combined.

Brill. I'll stop by and see him tonight." The vampire stood to leave when Giles stopped him.

"Not tonight, Spike. I have something else I need of you this evening."

Spike turned to regard Giles. He looked pale, not flush like he should have been, considering the amount of alcohol Spike smelled in his cup.

"While you are out on patrol, I want you leave Buffy momentarily."

"You want me to leave the Slayer in the cemeterywhy?" Spike inquired. Part of him was thoroughly intrigued by this request. Why would the Watcher want his Slayer alone? Or why would he want Spike to be alone? Something was off. Something was to be done that Giles didn't want Buffy to know about. "You want me to beat her and haul her ass in?" A devious expression glinted in his eyes. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

"No, Spike. She's just a girl and has ventured into some deal that I'm afraid will get her killed. Your job-"

"Should I choose to accept it," Spike sneered.

"Your job regardless is to find out who this employer is."

"You want me to rough her up a bit then?"

"What is it with you and hitting?"

"Vampire here, Giles. One can't break all his habits."

"Touché. You've met Leila; she's fragile."

"She's daft," Spike corrected.

"Be that as it may, she'll respond to violence with violence, much like yourself. No, she must be finessed, charmed"

"You want me to come on to her?" Great, first I'm a muscle for hire and now a gigolo. And Giles of all people was encouraging it.

"To put it bluntly, yes."

"And why do you think I would go for that? Why would she?"

"She fancies you, Spike. That was evident the first time she met you."

"Giles, she was sixteen then."

"And now she's eighteen, almost nineteen. She's out of the Council's clutches, free to do whatever she wants."

"Whomever she wants you mean."

"I meant nothing for the sort. You know I am right about this. What was it she said to you when you brought her back the last time?"



~*~*~


"We're one in the same. We fight the same fight."

"I know who I'm fighting; it's not the Council."

"I fight myself."

"And that's why you're here, Leila." Spike's tone was coated in as much tenderness as he could muster. He really did feel pity for the girl.

"They can't help me; you can. You know what I'm going through."

"I can't help you, Leila."

"Yes, you can, Spike."

Spike motioned for the guards. Four burly men grabbed the restrained patient and pulled her into her cell. "Till next time," she called to the retreating vampire.


~*~*~


Days later, he was still insisting that they were not alike, that she was just a crazy kid who was grasping at straws. He won that battle with his head and he did not like the idea of Giles insinuating he was wrong.

"She thinks you have a connection. All I'm asking is for you to use that to our advantage. Will you do it?"

"Can't rightly say now, can I?"

"Find her tonight and see how it goes. I should think this job would be right up your alley, Spike."

"You think I'm some kind of vamp whore?"

"Spike-"

"No, Rupes. I can do this job just fine. Slayer's not going to be too happy about this though. Chit's got morals, but you already know that. That's why you sent her away just now."

Giles nodded in agreement. Buffy did have morals, but the Ripper inside of Giles was not below using other people's emotions against them. In fact, he liked having that kind of leverage on Leila. It helped ensure they would all stay alive just a little while longer. "This comes from the Council as well Spike."

"They want to whore me out? Do I get extra money for my efforts?"

"Stop saying that!" Giles burst out. "You are not a whore, Spike. All you have to do is put on the irresistible charm that you claim to have and find out who she's working for. Anything beyond that is your doing, not mine."

Spike took in the details of his new assignment. He didn't like where this was most definitely going to lead him. "Fine, I'll be back later then." He turned to leave the room.

"Still be careful, Spike. She is still mentally unstable."

"Oh, Rupert, I didn't know you cared."




Spike walked the dark streets of London. It was an eerie night. The fog rolled in earlier than usual, covering up any moonlight that might have shone through. Even amongst the din, Spike knew that people were scarce this evening. For that, he was glad. The last thing he wanted to do was run into anyone he knew at the moment. And Spike knew everyone that a vampire should know in London. He needed to think a bit more, think about his approach to Leila, think about the lie that he was going to tell.

Spike roamed the city, reviewing the events of his life for the past five days. Everything was topsy turvy inside of his head. She was back, and he, for the unlife of him, could not decipher his feelings on the subject. Sometimes he looked at her and he felt the hurt, the intense pain that came with being with her, pain for him and pain for her. Other times, he stared into her perfect eyes and all he felt was euphoria comparable only to the first time he felt her body beneath his own. He didn't want to keep this from her, but there was no way he could tell her about his new escapade. The idea of disappointing her was tugging at his stomach; maybe it was just his hunger.



It was easy enough to get away from her. After several sweeps through London's hot spots, he simply said he needed to check with a snitch.

"Why can't I come with you? I am the Slayer. The demons around here
should be aware of it."

"On the contrary, sweets. I'd like to keep you a secret for a little while longer."

She pouted and started to bitch again. She was the Slayer, he was the vampire and all that rot. He only got away by promising to fill her in and let her accompany him to O'Malley's the following day. She didn't know who O'Malley was, but he sounded important. For a woman with such good instincts, she sure could be gullible. Maybe that's another reason he loved her.



The vampire stepped into his favorite hole-in-the-wall pub, Binkley's, to subdue said stomach pain. He sat at the bar, his hands propping up his head as he stared into his bourbon. He couldn't wait for his chips to arrive; Binkley's chips were his favorite, not like those American substitutes.

"Sure ye don't want a pint with this, Spike?" Binkley asked as he scrutinized the vampire. "You're lookin' mighty pale."

"You're one to talk, Binks," Spike chuckled. He looked at the bartender, an albino as it was, and shook his head. "Not now, mate. But, what's on tap tonight?"

"Fresh O negative and a big batch of A positive. Might want to get it while ye can. Seems the demon community has been scramblin' into all the haunts, grabbin'' as much as they kin."

This piqued Spike's interest. "Why's that now?" He knocked back his bourbon as he watched his friend dry glasses. Binkley was a good sort of man, knew when to talk and when to leave well enough alone. It was a good trait in a bartender.

"Couldn't tell you. Had one bloke come in here last night, blatherin' away 'bout somethin' or other. Some impendin' doom, recruitment opportunity for those crazy enough to try it. But, I was gittin' the feelin' that he wanted to lay low for a spell."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with some chit named Leila, would it?"

"As a matter of fact." Binkley put the glass down and leaned into Spike. "She was in here not three days ago, buggerin' around for some information."

"Really?" Spike quickly ran through his options. Leila was out possibly recruiting other vamps and scaring the other half shitless. Also there was an impending doom to factor in. He needed to find the girl and quickly before she got the upper hand permanently. But, how was he going to find her? Well, at least he knew she was definitely back in London. "Listen, Binkley, I need you to do me a favor."

"For you, Spike, anythin'. Is this top secret stuff?" the bartender asked eagerly.

Spike shook at his head at his friend then held his gaze with great seriousness. "On the contrary, mate, I need you to blab this one, to all the right people."



Spike strolled home a little after two in the morning, rather earlier than the Watcher expected.

"Spike." He called out as the vampire ascended the stairs. "Back so soon? Good news I hope."

"I made sure the right people know I'm looking for her," he replied simply, not bothering to turn and see the disappointed look on Giles's face. Before Giles voiced his displeasure, Spike began his defense. "I can't just find her and question her; she'd never fall for it. This way she'll think she has the upper hand by responding to my request to see her."

"Ohquite right," he remarked. "That's a very good idea."

Spike started back up the staircase only to be halted once more. "Are you looking for Buffy?" The Watcher's voice was shaky.

Spike winced at that tone. The Slayer's surrogate father, his business partner, was still worried about the vampire. Despite the conversation they had over a year ago in regards to Buffy, the Watcher still didn't trust him. Bet he slept with the door locked too. Spike was used to working with people he didn't trust, but he been diluted thinking Giles was different. He would never admit this outloud to a living soul, but Spike enjoyed working with the man, a great deal actually. Where he was impulsive, Giles was reserved, where Giles was all talk, Spike was all action. Where Spike screwed up, and it did happen on occasion, Giles knew how to fix it. Then there were the times when both the demon and Ripper went out to play. Those were good times. It was better than having sodding minions who were about as much entertainment as watching grapes turn to raisins. The combination worked well in their business, kept each other in a state of balance.

Spike sighed as he prepared for the onslaught of long, poofy words that would stream from Giles's mouth. "Not at the moment, Watcher."

"Spike, I feel I must say something. I- "

"We're not together, Watcher," he stated plainly. "You have nothing to fear, Giles. Your Slayer is safe from the Big Bad."

Giles removed his glasses and pointed the stem accusingly at Spike. "That's not what I meant, Spike."

"Isn't it?" Spike grabbed hold of the banister with both hands and glowered at the man below. "You're afraid I'm going to make a move on your Slayer, aren't you?"

"I want your head on straight is all. We have a specific task at hand. Leila is not stupid and she is unstable. You need to be on your game and not gallivanting around after Buffy."

Normally, Spike would take this opportunity to make an innuendo or a sarcastic comment, something to shove Giles's nose back into his face where it belonged. But, he refrained because there was nothing to say. Now, if there was something to report, that might have been different; he could gloat in those circumstances. Spike had nothing to gloat about, nothing to show off. Giles had the girlfriend; Spike had no one. The love of his life was sleeping across the hall from him and he couldn't have her, couldn't touch her. He wanted to though, but he vowed not to touch her, not to get lost in her face and not to tell her he loved her. The latter was a big promise. He would not let those words leave his lips. No matter how many times he screamed it in his dreams, professed it lovingly in his head, he would never tell herif indeed he still felt that way. He still wasn't quite sure. And Giles's constant looks and comments weren't helping his situation. "So, your concern is strictly in regards to business."

"Yes. Frankly, Spike, Buffy may do what she will with her social life; she was going to get married and certainly didn't need me looking over her shoulder then. I'm quite certain you can handle yourselves. However, where the Council is concerned-"

"Fuck the Council," he said dismissively. "What care have you for the Council?"

"I have care for you, you git, and for my Slayer. Things were different when we were in America. We are right under their noses and while you and I can get by I have concern now that Buffy is in the equation. Don't forget for a moment that Quentin wouldn't go to extremes if thought something was amiss."

Spike slouched into the railing. "Again, neither they nor you have anything to worry about. Buffy and I are not romantically entwined."

Giles knew Spike long enough to know when he lied; he wasn't now. The observant man also knew saying these truthful words pained Spike more than he was willing to admit. "Spike, I am not doing this to pain you. Oddly enough, I think I would be rather sad should you turn to dust." Both men gave a slight laugh at the admission. "I just want you to be clear."

Spike cocked his head to the side. "I know where my loyalties lie."





There you go. Next chapter will have some Spuffiness in it, Woohoo!