Disclaimer: See part 1, or 6.
PART 10
Spike yanked open the door to Willy's and strode in like he owned the place, and several more just like it. A few vampires turned to look at him, but most just ignored the new patron. Once the curious ones saw who it was, they went back to their drinks, uninterested. It galled him no end that the demons in Willy's dive were unafraid of him. Unaware that he had his bite back. Mostly.
They'd find out soon enough though, oh yeah. And that day would be fine. As long as he didn't kill anyone. He'd definitely do some biting though, and a lot of feeding. A smirk crossed his lips at the thought. The smirk died almost immediately. This is what I've been reduced to, he thought. Putting on a show for the other demons just to get a little bit of the respect he deserved. Deserved, damn it! He was a bloody evil vampire, feared by many, hated by all.
Except Dawn. And Willow. Joyce had kind of tolerated him as well, but-- ah, Christ.
Dropping onto a stool at the bar, he waited until Willy deigned to notice him and saunter over. His fury roiled inside him at Willy's dismissal of him. Maybe this then was his victim. Feeding only, not killing. Pity, that.
"Spike," Willy said loudly, glancing around nervously. "Where, uh, where's the Slayer? She with you?"
Spike glared at the weasel-y little man, seriously wondering if Willow could stand just a little more pain. Just enough for him to punch that smug look off of Willy's face. Instead of finding out, he continued to stare at Willy, making him squirm just a little. When he'd had enough of that, he inhaled deeply and looked around as if he had all the time in the world. "Beer."
Willy grabbed a mug from the shelf behind him and filled it with cheap, watered down beer, then set the dripping mug down on a napkin in front of Spike. "Three fifty," he told Spike, not making a move to leave.
Like Spike didn't pay for his drinks when he came here. Well, okay, mostly he didn't. But he was offended nonetheless.
"I'd also like ten bags of blood. And, uh, make it human." Pulling a wad of cash from his back pocket, he counted out the bills, placing a hundred on the bar beside his beer. Willy's eyes were glued to the cash, Spike knew. Didn't even have to look up to see those beady eyes locked on the green bills on the bar. He counted out another fifty and set it on top of the hundred. When Willy's hand darted out to take the money, Spike slapped his hand down over Willy's.
His vow not to hurt anyone went out the window when Willy only sighed and tried to take the money anyway. He tightened his hand on Willy's, digging his fingernails into the man's flesh, making sure it hurt, a lot, but not enough for Willow to send a stake his way. He kept his eyes fixed on Willy's face, watching, waiting for the second when he realized Spike wasn't in pain. And it was worth it.
Willy's eyes slid slowly, almost dreadfully, from the money to Spike's face. An audible gulp could be heard in the suddenly quiet bar. Fear poured off the man, mingling with the smell of his sweat and other things Spike would rather not identify. Fear that he'd caused. Spike was back, and now everyone knew it. Everyone in the bar anyway. Wouldn't be long before the whole town knew as well.
"S-- Spike," Willy chuckled, trying to pull his hand free. "You've got your bite back."
Spike nodded, loosening his grip only when Willy let go of the bills on the counter. "Yeah, I do." He stood up, leaning forward menacingly. "Wanna be my first kill?" he asked, vamping out with a grin. "First of the night, that is."
"No, no," Willy said, backing away, bumping into the shelf behind him and setting glasses and bottles to rattling. "I'd prefer not to die, but thanks for the offer. Means a lot," he assured Spike, nodding for emphasis.
Spike morphed his face back to normal and sat back down, slapping his hand over the money jovially. "Too bad. What say you get that blood then, huh? Gotta keep up appearances for the Slayer and her gang, don't I? Can't let her in on it too soon. Got plans for them." If the demons had any idea that the biggest plan on his mind at the moment was how to make Willow fall in love with him, they'd probably already be planning his lynching.
"Human blood," Willy mumbled, rushing off to the back room to get it. "Coming right up," he laughed, like they were two friends, out celebrating a kill.
Sighing heavily, Spike spun around on his stool, staring down every last one of the vampires and demons gawking at him. Standing up, he clapped his hands loudly, and rubbed them together. "So. William the Bloody is back, kiddies," he told them eagerly, enjoying the respect and fear this news generated. Noticing one occupant in a booth not paying attention to him, Spike stalked over there, grabbed the vampire by his long blond hair and slammed his face onto the filthy table in front of him. A bowl of peanuts went skittering across the surface, landing in the lap of the booth's other occupant. She stared wide eyed at her companion as blood flowed freely from his now broken nose.
"Pay... attention," he chided.
"Sorry," the vampire mumbled back, trying to stem the tide of blood from his broken nose which only ended up smearing it across his whole face. "I-- I didn't realize..."
Spike shrugged, dropping the vampire with a chuckle. "That Spike was talking?" He turned away, walking a few feet closer to the bar, nodding thoughtfully. A gracious smile lit his lips. "I'll forgive you this time." He took the stake from his duster pocket and paced back over to the vampire. No one in the place, including his companion, warned him. There was silence, except for the scuff of Spike's boots as he grabbed the bleeding vampire by his shirt and yanked him to his feet.
The relieved smile on his bloody face turned sickly when Spike plunged the stake into his heart. "Changed my mind," Spike said, shrugging apologetically as the vampire's dust littered the floor, covering Spike's pants and boots. "Damn it," he muttered, brushing himself off. He looked and sounded irritated, but when his head rose up, there was a feral grin there, and not one of the creatures in Willy's doubted that Spike was whole again.
Willy, who had been standing in the doorway to the store room, watching the scene unfold, pushed forward, holding a small box. He carried it behind the bar and hefted it up beside Spike. His eyes once again shot from the money to Spike, waiting for permission before reaching for it.
"Well don't just stand there," Spike told him, waving his hand at Willy. "Go get my change."
Willy stared down at the hundred and fifty in his hands, and swallowed. Hard. "Uh, Spike... there's no change. In fact, there's not enough here to cover the blood. You're twenty short--"
Spike's eyes slid dangerously to Willy, daring him to finish that sentence. He had the money to pay for the blood, and they both knew it. In fact, Spike would wager that every last demon in the place knew about the wad of cash in his pocket, but a little theft wasn't beyond him. He quite enjoyed it actually. And the fear on Willy's face was beyond worth it. He'd missed this. Instilling fear in humans and respect in the other demons. The whole night was turning out to be a hell of a lot of fun.
"I'll, uh, have your change in just a..." he trailed off, leaving to get money from the cash register.
Spike idly wondered how much the man would feel safe in giving him back.
Five? Spike scoffed silently, raising his eyes from the five dollar bill Willy had shoved in front of him. He shrugged, sticking it into his pocket with the rest of the pilfered money he'd taken off the drunk woman the night he fed. The night of his first taste of warm, pumping human blood in two years.
Willy sighed in relief, leaning against the bar for a second before pushing away and attempting to flee.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Spike said impatiently, standing up and grabbing the man by the back of his shirt, yanking him back in front of the box of blood. "I'm not done yet." Letting go only when he was sure Willy wasn't going to take off again, he sat back down. "There's a demon been hanging around. Maybe more than one. I want to know why."
"Still doing the Slayer's work?" a southern accented demon said from a few seats down, his long brown tentacles fluttering above his mug of beer as he sneered Spike. The white ten gallon hat on his head was pushed back with a third tentacle as he turned to face the vampire. "You're still whipped, boy."
Spike was extremely proud of himself for not jumping up and picking a fight with the Tarlafug demon, since he'd most likely lose. Tarlafug's were nearly invincible, unless you had a steel-bladed sword blessed with holy water to decapitate it with. Spike didn't have anything steel on him, and definitely no sword, so he spared the demon not a glance.
"Litchock demons," Spike clarified for Willy, snapping the bartender's attention back to him. "What do you know?"
Willy gestured to the bar behind Spike. "They can tell you whatever you want." He sniffed and leaned closer. "These Litchock guys aren't well loved by the vampires in town."
"They've been killing us off," someone said from across the room.
"Not even bothering to see if they've got the right one before killing us," another said. "It's sick."
Spike chuckled at the disgust in the vampire's voice and once again turned on his stool. Facing the room of mostly vampires, he was surprised to see them all nodding and agreeing with each other, discussing the Litchocks. "What do they want?" he called above the din. Realizing they were all too riled up and getting angrier by the second as they talked about the Litchock demons, he turned back to Willy. "What's going on with the Litchock?"
Willy leaned his elbows on the bar, looking like he was back in his element since the attention of most everyone was currently off of him. Spike wanted explanations, therefore he probably wouldn't be killing him anytime soon. "There's a big uprising in the ranks of the Litchock. They've got this... hierarchy, like the British Royals or something. But lately, there's been insurrection in the ranks, and the current king is dying."
Spike nodded thoughtfully. "So the successor, most likely a son--always is the males in these things--isn't going to make it to power?" Great, a big bloody war in Sunnydale. Why couldn't these things take place in cities like Tulsa, or Albany?
"Right," Willy agreed, as animated as he always was when something bad was going to happen. "The rival family kidnaped the son. Soldiers and guards from the king's family followed their trail straight to Sunnydale." Pausing, he reached behind him for a mug, and filled it with beer, taking a healthy swig of the foamy liquid. "I'll give you one guess what was hired to take the kid."
Spike watched him wipe his mouth off with his sleeve and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man was just... dirty. "A vampire," he guessed, hardly paying attention to Willy's nod. "Why bring the kid here though? Why not just kill him?"
Willy threw his head back with a laugh, his whiny, nasally voice sending shudders down Spike's spine. "See, that's the thing. Against themselves, they're peaceful. It's only other species they kill. They brought the brat here to keep him from receiving the power when the king kicks the bucket. As soon as power is transferred to the one they want in power, the son'll be returned, unharmed." He shrugged, taking another gulp of his beer.
"Hence the vampire population being gunned down," Spike said thoughtfully. If this was true, then he needed to get to the others, let them know what was brewing right under their noses. Feeling generous, Spike downed his beer, picked up his box of bagged human blood and tossed a twenty on the counter. That just about covered his tab for the night.
"Thanks, Spike," Willy gushed, practically salivating on the twenty.
"Mm," was Spike's only reply.
The Tarlafug spun around as Spike passed him, leaning his tentacles back on the bar like a cowboy of old as he tipped his hat back. "No hard feelings, friend? Didn't know it was the vampire killers you were after."
Spike shrugged, unconcerned with the Tarlafug. The demon waited patiently for Spike to acknowledge his apology. Ignoring the demon's outstretched tentacle, Spike shoved the box under his right arm and left Willy's behind.
Dragging her sore, tired body down the stairs was a lot harder than she'd imagined it would be, but Willow was never one to give up easily. She stopped halfway down the stairs and waited for the pain in her head to subside, muttering all the curse words she knew at the Cher-wannabe. That actually left a lot to be desired, but she didn't care, she just repeated some of the harsher ones and then continued gingerly down the steps.
Everyone in the living room looked up as she came down the last step. She stood there, trying to figure out whether or not she should collapse on the couch, or the last remaining chair. The couch was closest, so she slowly moved toward it. Xander's legs proved to be the biggest obstacle, but they were quickly removed.
"You don't look so good," he told her, not unkindly. His face showed only concern, and she really couldn't fault him for that.
She was concerned about herself. If she kept having Spike thoughts--naughty, naked, want-him-in-a-bad-way thoughts--they'd have to lock her away and slap a Dunce cap on her head. Spike didn't care about her. He only wanted her blood, and a roll in the hay. Though, sometimes he could be really sweet, she didn't fool herself into thinking this was anything but an attempt to get into her good graces.
Giving him the benefit of the doubt was a really hard thing to do when she knew of his past. Had been a painful part of that past.
Sighing gratefully, she leaned her head back, closing her eyes in relief. She probably should've stayed upstairs, but boredom had settled over her once again after her bath. With Spike gone, it was just no fun. So she'd gotten dressed and headed out of her room after downing a handful of aspirin, heading to the living room. To her friends. She opened her eyes, glancing around lazily. They were staring at her. All four of them.
"I'm fine," she told them, sitting up straighter. It almost killed her, but she was able to paint a decent picture of a healthy girl sitting amongst her friends.
Dawn, sitting beside Xander on the floor, leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. Willow ignored both her and Xander when they glanced over. She chose instead to concentrate on reading the book in front of her... just as soon as she leaned forward to grab it and put it on her lap. Easier said than done. Her head pounded painfully, her pulse throbbing loudly in her ears until she thought her brain had to explode under the pressure. Thankfully, it didn't. Only throbbed less when she yanked the aged brown tome off the table and onto her lap. Just as planned.
"Oh. Willow, do be careful," Giles chided. "That book's over a century old and quite rare." He smiled to show he wasn't being angry, just priggish.
Willow nodded, darting a quick look Xander's way. Still watching her. "Guys? What are we researching?" she asked the room in general as she flipped through her hard won book.
"The Litchock," Buffy answered, closing her own book with a thump. She turned sideways on the couch, lifting one leg up, so she could face Willow. "That stuff you told Spike earlier, about it trying to distract us? Well, the spell being to distract us... what if it was the Litchock? Or, since maybe that one's dead, another one."
"And," Giles added, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, "if so, why are they here? Why are they trying to distract us?"
"Yeah," Dawn said, "why didn't it just kill you outright?" Her head shot up when silence fell. Four sets of eyes were fixed on her face in disbelief. "N--- not that I wanted it to. I'm just saying." She shrugged a little uncomfortably.
"So you're thinking there's a whole mess of 'em here for some reason? A Hellmouth-y reason?" Willow asked. Figures, she thought, sighing. Nothing can ever be just plain old dumb luck. Just an accident. Had to be a reason behind everyone's actions in this town.
"Oh, ooo, ooo," Xander called out, gesturing to them as he stood up with his book. "I found something. Good news. The best." He dropped the opened book on the table and grinned at them all. "The bond can be reversed. *If*," he stressed, holding up a finger to quiet them all down, "if we can find the same demon that cast the spell." He clapped his hands together loudly, turning to Giles. "It's possible the one Willow and D.B. Junior found wasn't the same one, right? Of course, it is," he answered, too excited to listen to any naysayers.
Giles grabbed the book from the table while Buffy and Dawn crowded around his chair to read over his shoulders. Excited chatter floated around the room, only one voice missing, though no one noticed in their own happiness.
Willow was still on the couch, still had her book in her lap, staring at the curtained window across from her, trying to figure out how she felt about this news. It was possible to be free of the bond. Not a definite, but a definite possibility. She could be free of Spike. The small part of her heart that had come to care for him halted its beating for a few precious seconds, forcing her to take notice. The other part of her heart resumed its normal beating, overriding the caring part.
No joy shot through her at the thought of life going back to what passed for normal in their lives. No excitement and happiness. Nothing but an emptiness that was quickly settling over her. She didn't want to give up this thing she and Spike had. She wanted to see where it went, what would happen. In spite of his pain giving her a headache. Even after the thing in the bathroom, or maybe because of the thing in the bathroom.
Having trouble seeing, since she'd been staring unblinkingly at the window, she closed her eyes to relieve the dryness.
She felt someone sit next to her, taking her hand in their own. Large, male, had to be Xander. She opened her eyes with a forced smile, trying to put as much happiness as she could into her face. "This is... good news," she whispered.
"Is it?" His solemn eyes gazed into hers, searching for something, but she couldn't be sure what.
"Yeah." She nodded for emphasis, widening her smile until her cheeks started to hurt. "It is."
He leaned closer, glancing over at the trio around Giles' chair. "Dawn said Spike went into the bathroom while you were taking a bath." His jaw clenched tightly, but he held back on the anger and judgement for the time being. "You don't... like him do you? I mean, in a strictly non-friendly way."
She considered lying, considered not telling him that Spike had, in a very short time, come to mean a lot to her. "Yes, I do," she said truthfully, placing her hand over his clenched fist. "Xander, I wouldn't have slept with him unless I cared a little. I--"
"What?" Xander yelled, jumping to his feet. "You slept with him? You--" he turned away angrily, kicking at the coffee table, sending books and papers soaring across the room.
"Oh, dear Lord," Giles muttered, frowning at Willow.
Silence descended, as Xander stormed away from her. Buffy, who'd jumped up at the ready, relaxed slightly, giving Willow a sympathetic look.
"We didn't tell you for this very reason," Giles told Xander, who was pacing in front of the stairway. When Xander only glared at him, Giles stood up angrily. "Calm down," he ordered. "Remember, if you hurt Spike, you hurt Willow, so don't even think about going after him again."
Dawn stood across the room, nervously tugging at her hands. "I-- I'm sorry. I thought Xander knew. I thought he *knew*." She chuckled humorlessly, her bitterness for Buffy showing through. "I figured, if I knew, everyone else had to know already."
"It's not your fault," Willow sighed, getting to her feet. "I'm the one who told him. You just... helped me along a little." She smiled reassuringly, but the smile died when Dawn suddenly frowned angrily.
"Wait," she said huffily, swinging toward Giles. "What do you mean, 'hurt him again'? Xander hurt Spike?"
Buffy groaned, letting her head drop back in exasperation. "Dawn, I didn't tell you that part because I knew you'd be upset, and--"
"Upset?" Dawn repeated incredulously. "You're darn right I'm upset. But not because you didn't tell me. I'm pissed at Xander for hurting Spike. He had no right--"
Xander, for the first time that any of them could remember, turned to Dawn and told her sternly, "Stay out of this. You don't know-- what that monster does isn't just something you can shrug off because he's leashed by a piece of whatever."
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, huffing some more. "I know. I know what he is."
Xander crossed the room to stand in front of her. "No you don't, Dawn. Look at Willow, that is what Spike does to people. Only, they're usually a lot less living when he's through with them."
"Xander," Willow said tersely, seeing Dawn's frown and the tears in her eyes. Willow was furious him, and the whole situation and everyone involved in it. "Leave her alone."
"Xander," Buffy warned him, "stop it. You're scaring her."
"Good," Xander shouted. "Because someone needs to. Spike is a killer, same as every other vampire out there. Same as Angel," he said spitefully. "I'm just trying to make her realize it before it's too late."
"I get it," Dawn whispered through her tears. She stared hard at Xander for a few seconds before running past him, up the stairs.
Buffy sighed and went after her. "Thank you, Xander. That was very helpful," she tossed over her shoulder angrily.
Willow glared at Xander, who looked back at her steadily, his eyes hard and unyielding.
"You know, I bet Anya would like some company at the store right about now," Willow told him.
Giles' eyebrows rose at her harsh tone, but she didn't take it back. Xander chuckled without amusement. "Trying to get rid of me, Willow?"
"Yes," she answered, sitting back down on the couch before she collapsed. Forget aspirin, she thought, rubbing her aching head, I need a nice Morphine drip.
Giles headed into the kitchen while Xander continued to glare at Willow. She had her eyes closed, but she could feel him watching her, knew he was trying to figure her out. Figure out how she could care about a soulless demon. Sleep with a soulless demon. Well, she thought, being a little petty, I just can, so there.
After a few minutes, Giles returned with a steaming cup of hot tea, handing it to her with a sympathetic look. She took it gratefully just as Buffy and Dawn came back downstairs. Dawn was still grumpy and obviously pouting, as she looked everywhere but at Xander. Buffy sighed, shaking her head despairingly, sharing a small smile with Willow.
"I have to patrol. Dawn," she said sternly, turning to her sister, "be good. Xander," her voice was much harsher than it had been just seconds earlier, "come on."
Giles sighed, kneeling down to pick up the books and papers on the floor. "Be careful. And keep an eye out for the Litchock."
"Will do," Buffy called back, dragging Xander to the door. Just as they reached the foyer, the door swung open, emitting a grinning Spike striding straight into Buffy.
He reached out to steady her with one hand, then moved further into the room, dropping the box in his other hand on the floor. "I just found out there's a whole bunch of-- hey!" he yelled, when Xander pushed him back against the closet doors. "Hands off, mate, you're gonna hurt the girl."
Xander loosened his grip on Spike's duster with a quick glance at Willow to see if she was all right, then turned back to Spike, who wasn't resisting at all.
Buffy grabbed Xander's arm, trying to pry him away from Spike, but Xander kept his hold, not giving another inch. "Xander, don't you hurt them," she ground out through clenched teeth, holding back on hurting Xander.
"I warned you, Xander--" Giles began, starting toward them. "Let him go."
Dawn was standing a few feet away, looking ready to start crying again at any moment, but she was standing strong. Willow was proud of her, especially when she finally rushed toward the others, intending to help pull Xander from Spike. Willow herself kept quiet, bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming. She couldn't resist turning sideways to watch, knowing that if the other three couldn't pry Xander away from Spike, then she didn't have a prayer either. So she stayed seated, watching Spike. Waiting for the first sign of violence from him.
He stood tall, not backing down at the threat or fury in Xander's face, eyes, and posture. It was all over Xander, the restraint he was using to keep from hurting Willow. But it was also in Spike. As Xander's hands clenched tightly into the leather of Spike's duster, Spike's hands clenched into fists at his sides. As Xander glowered at Spike, Spike sneered back.
"Guess what?" Xander said harshly. "We found a way to reverse the bond, and just as soon as we find the Litchock that cast the spell, we'll break the bond." A smile curled Xander's lips, a truly menacing look accompanying it. "And then I'm coming after you."
Spike's eyes shot to Willow's at the news. She tried to figure out whether he was happy at the chance of being free of her, but his face was blank, not one iota of emotion on there. He turned back to Xander, ignoring everyone else in the room, and let his face change. "Get the bloody hell off of me," he snarled, reaching up with his arms to break Xander's suddenly loose hold. He pushed away from the wall, getting in Xander's face. "Bring it on, Harris," he said softly, and not one person in the room mistook the hostility in his voice for anything less than what it was.
Willow, tired, sore, and sick of all of her friends, stood up and trudged slowly up the stairs. "You can all leave now," she called over her shoulder. Pushing open her bedroom door, she listened for the sound of the front door closing, and breathed a sigh of relief when it finally did. Not bothering to see who left, and who stayed, she grabbed her pillows from the floor, along with a sheet, and laid down, letting the tears of pain fall.
PART 10
Spike yanked open the door to Willy's and strode in like he owned the place, and several more just like it. A few vampires turned to look at him, but most just ignored the new patron. Once the curious ones saw who it was, they went back to their drinks, uninterested. It galled him no end that the demons in Willy's dive were unafraid of him. Unaware that he had his bite back. Mostly.
They'd find out soon enough though, oh yeah. And that day would be fine. As long as he didn't kill anyone. He'd definitely do some biting though, and a lot of feeding. A smirk crossed his lips at the thought. The smirk died almost immediately. This is what I've been reduced to, he thought. Putting on a show for the other demons just to get a little bit of the respect he deserved. Deserved, damn it! He was a bloody evil vampire, feared by many, hated by all.
Except Dawn. And Willow. Joyce had kind of tolerated him as well, but-- ah, Christ.
Dropping onto a stool at the bar, he waited until Willy deigned to notice him and saunter over. His fury roiled inside him at Willy's dismissal of him. Maybe this then was his victim. Feeding only, not killing. Pity, that.
"Spike," Willy said loudly, glancing around nervously. "Where, uh, where's the Slayer? She with you?"
Spike glared at the weasel-y little man, seriously wondering if Willow could stand just a little more pain. Just enough for him to punch that smug look off of Willy's face. Instead of finding out, he continued to stare at Willy, making him squirm just a little. When he'd had enough of that, he inhaled deeply and looked around as if he had all the time in the world. "Beer."
Willy grabbed a mug from the shelf behind him and filled it with cheap, watered down beer, then set the dripping mug down on a napkin in front of Spike. "Three fifty," he told Spike, not making a move to leave.
Like Spike didn't pay for his drinks when he came here. Well, okay, mostly he didn't. But he was offended nonetheless.
"I'd also like ten bags of blood. And, uh, make it human." Pulling a wad of cash from his back pocket, he counted out the bills, placing a hundred on the bar beside his beer. Willy's eyes were glued to the cash, Spike knew. Didn't even have to look up to see those beady eyes locked on the green bills on the bar. He counted out another fifty and set it on top of the hundred. When Willy's hand darted out to take the money, Spike slapped his hand down over Willy's.
His vow not to hurt anyone went out the window when Willy only sighed and tried to take the money anyway. He tightened his hand on Willy's, digging his fingernails into the man's flesh, making sure it hurt, a lot, but not enough for Willow to send a stake his way. He kept his eyes fixed on Willy's face, watching, waiting for the second when he realized Spike wasn't in pain. And it was worth it.
Willy's eyes slid slowly, almost dreadfully, from the money to Spike's face. An audible gulp could be heard in the suddenly quiet bar. Fear poured off the man, mingling with the smell of his sweat and other things Spike would rather not identify. Fear that he'd caused. Spike was back, and now everyone knew it. Everyone in the bar anyway. Wouldn't be long before the whole town knew as well.
"S-- Spike," Willy chuckled, trying to pull his hand free. "You've got your bite back."
Spike nodded, loosening his grip only when Willy let go of the bills on the counter. "Yeah, I do." He stood up, leaning forward menacingly. "Wanna be my first kill?" he asked, vamping out with a grin. "First of the night, that is."
"No, no," Willy said, backing away, bumping into the shelf behind him and setting glasses and bottles to rattling. "I'd prefer not to die, but thanks for the offer. Means a lot," he assured Spike, nodding for emphasis.
Spike morphed his face back to normal and sat back down, slapping his hand over the money jovially. "Too bad. What say you get that blood then, huh? Gotta keep up appearances for the Slayer and her gang, don't I? Can't let her in on it too soon. Got plans for them." If the demons had any idea that the biggest plan on his mind at the moment was how to make Willow fall in love with him, they'd probably already be planning his lynching.
"Human blood," Willy mumbled, rushing off to the back room to get it. "Coming right up," he laughed, like they were two friends, out celebrating a kill.
Sighing heavily, Spike spun around on his stool, staring down every last one of the vampires and demons gawking at him. Standing up, he clapped his hands loudly, and rubbed them together. "So. William the Bloody is back, kiddies," he told them eagerly, enjoying the respect and fear this news generated. Noticing one occupant in a booth not paying attention to him, Spike stalked over there, grabbed the vampire by his long blond hair and slammed his face onto the filthy table in front of him. A bowl of peanuts went skittering across the surface, landing in the lap of the booth's other occupant. She stared wide eyed at her companion as blood flowed freely from his now broken nose.
"Pay... attention," he chided.
"Sorry," the vampire mumbled back, trying to stem the tide of blood from his broken nose which only ended up smearing it across his whole face. "I-- I didn't realize..."
Spike shrugged, dropping the vampire with a chuckle. "That Spike was talking?" He turned away, walking a few feet closer to the bar, nodding thoughtfully. A gracious smile lit his lips. "I'll forgive you this time." He took the stake from his duster pocket and paced back over to the vampire. No one in the place, including his companion, warned him. There was silence, except for the scuff of Spike's boots as he grabbed the bleeding vampire by his shirt and yanked him to his feet.
The relieved smile on his bloody face turned sickly when Spike plunged the stake into his heart. "Changed my mind," Spike said, shrugging apologetically as the vampire's dust littered the floor, covering Spike's pants and boots. "Damn it," he muttered, brushing himself off. He looked and sounded irritated, but when his head rose up, there was a feral grin there, and not one of the creatures in Willy's doubted that Spike was whole again.
Willy, who had been standing in the doorway to the store room, watching the scene unfold, pushed forward, holding a small box. He carried it behind the bar and hefted it up beside Spike. His eyes once again shot from the money to Spike, waiting for permission before reaching for it.
"Well don't just stand there," Spike told him, waving his hand at Willy. "Go get my change."
Willy stared down at the hundred and fifty in his hands, and swallowed. Hard. "Uh, Spike... there's no change. In fact, there's not enough here to cover the blood. You're twenty short--"
Spike's eyes slid dangerously to Willy, daring him to finish that sentence. He had the money to pay for the blood, and they both knew it. In fact, Spike would wager that every last demon in the place knew about the wad of cash in his pocket, but a little theft wasn't beyond him. He quite enjoyed it actually. And the fear on Willy's face was beyond worth it. He'd missed this. Instilling fear in humans and respect in the other demons. The whole night was turning out to be a hell of a lot of fun.
"I'll, uh, have your change in just a..." he trailed off, leaving to get money from the cash register.
Spike idly wondered how much the man would feel safe in giving him back.
Five? Spike scoffed silently, raising his eyes from the five dollar bill Willy had shoved in front of him. He shrugged, sticking it into his pocket with the rest of the pilfered money he'd taken off the drunk woman the night he fed. The night of his first taste of warm, pumping human blood in two years.
Willy sighed in relief, leaning against the bar for a second before pushing away and attempting to flee.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Spike said impatiently, standing up and grabbing the man by the back of his shirt, yanking him back in front of the box of blood. "I'm not done yet." Letting go only when he was sure Willy wasn't going to take off again, he sat back down. "There's a demon been hanging around. Maybe more than one. I want to know why."
"Still doing the Slayer's work?" a southern accented demon said from a few seats down, his long brown tentacles fluttering above his mug of beer as he sneered Spike. The white ten gallon hat on his head was pushed back with a third tentacle as he turned to face the vampire. "You're still whipped, boy."
Spike was extremely proud of himself for not jumping up and picking a fight with the Tarlafug demon, since he'd most likely lose. Tarlafug's were nearly invincible, unless you had a steel-bladed sword blessed with holy water to decapitate it with. Spike didn't have anything steel on him, and definitely no sword, so he spared the demon not a glance.
"Litchock demons," Spike clarified for Willy, snapping the bartender's attention back to him. "What do you know?"
Willy gestured to the bar behind Spike. "They can tell you whatever you want." He sniffed and leaned closer. "These Litchock guys aren't well loved by the vampires in town."
"They've been killing us off," someone said from across the room.
"Not even bothering to see if they've got the right one before killing us," another said. "It's sick."
Spike chuckled at the disgust in the vampire's voice and once again turned on his stool. Facing the room of mostly vampires, he was surprised to see them all nodding and agreeing with each other, discussing the Litchocks. "What do they want?" he called above the din. Realizing they were all too riled up and getting angrier by the second as they talked about the Litchock demons, he turned back to Willy. "What's going on with the Litchock?"
Willy leaned his elbows on the bar, looking like he was back in his element since the attention of most everyone was currently off of him. Spike wanted explanations, therefore he probably wouldn't be killing him anytime soon. "There's a big uprising in the ranks of the Litchock. They've got this... hierarchy, like the British Royals or something. But lately, there's been insurrection in the ranks, and the current king is dying."
Spike nodded thoughtfully. "So the successor, most likely a son--always is the males in these things--isn't going to make it to power?" Great, a big bloody war in Sunnydale. Why couldn't these things take place in cities like Tulsa, or Albany?
"Right," Willy agreed, as animated as he always was when something bad was going to happen. "The rival family kidnaped the son. Soldiers and guards from the king's family followed their trail straight to Sunnydale." Pausing, he reached behind him for a mug, and filled it with beer, taking a healthy swig of the foamy liquid. "I'll give you one guess what was hired to take the kid."
Spike watched him wipe his mouth off with his sleeve and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man was just... dirty. "A vampire," he guessed, hardly paying attention to Willy's nod. "Why bring the kid here though? Why not just kill him?"
Willy threw his head back with a laugh, his whiny, nasally voice sending shudders down Spike's spine. "See, that's the thing. Against themselves, they're peaceful. It's only other species they kill. They brought the brat here to keep him from receiving the power when the king kicks the bucket. As soon as power is transferred to the one they want in power, the son'll be returned, unharmed." He shrugged, taking another gulp of his beer.
"Hence the vampire population being gunned down," Spike said thoughtfully. If this was true, then he needed to get to the others, let them know what was brewing right under their noses. Feeling generous, Spike downed his beer, picked up his box of bagged human blood and tossed a twenty on the counter. That just about covered his tab for the night.
"Thanks, Spike," Willy gushed, practically salivating on the twenty.
"Mm," was Spike's only reply.
The Tarlafug spun around as Spike passed him, leaning his tentacles back on the bar like a cowboy of old as he tipped his hat back. "No hard feelings, friend? Didn't know it was the vampire killers you were after."
Spike shrugged, unconcerned with the Tarlafug. The demon waited patiently for Spike to acknowledge his apology. Ignoring the demon's outstretched tentacle, Spike shoved the box under his right arm and left Willy's behind.
Dragging her sore, tired body down the stairs was a lot harder than she'd imagined it would be, but Willow was never one to give up easily. She stopped halfway down the stairs and waited for the pain in her head to subside, muttering all the curse words she knew at the Cher-wannabe. That actually left a lot to be desired, but she didn't care, she just repeated some of the harsher ones and then continued gingerly down the steps.
Everyone in the living room looked up as she came down the last step. She stood there, trying to figure out whether or not she should collapse on the couch, or the last remaining chair. The couch was closest, so she slowly moved toward it. Xander's legs proved to be the biggest obstacle, but they were quickly removed.
"You don't look so good," he told her, not unkindly. His face showed only concern, and she really couldn't fault him for that.
She was concerned about herself. If she kept having Spike thoughts--naughty, naked, want-him-in-a-bad-way thoughts--they'd have to lock her away and slap a Dunce cap on her head. Spike didn't care about her. He only wanted her blood, and a roll in the hay. Though, sometimes he could be really sweet, she didn't fool herself into thinking this was anything but an attempt to get into her good graces.
Giving him the benefit of the doubt was a really hard thing to do when she knew of his past. Had been a painful part of that past.
Sighing gratefully, she leaned her head back, closing her eyes in relief. She probably should've stayed upstairs, but boredom had settled over her once again after her bath. With Spike gone, it was just no fun. So she'd gotten dressed and headed out of her room after downing a handful of aspirin, heading to the living room. To her friends. She opened her eyes, glancing around lazily. They were staring at her. All four of them.
"I'm fine," she told them, sitting up straighter. It almost killed her, but she was able to paint a decent picture of a healthy girl sitting amongst her friends.
Dawn, sitting beside Xander on the floor, leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. Willow ignored both her and Xander when they glanced over. She chose instead to concentrate on reading the book in front of her... just as soon as she leaned forward to grab it and put it on her lap. Easier said than done. Her head pounded painfully, her pulse throbbing loudly in her ears until she thought her brain had to explode under the pressure. Thankfully, it didn't. Only throbbed less when she yanked the aged brown tome off the table and onto her lap. Just as planned.
"Oh. Willow, do be careful," Giles chided. "That book's over a century old and quite rare." He smiled to show he wasn't being angry, just priggish.
Willow nodded, darting a quick look Xander's way. Still watching her. "Guys? What are we researching?" she asked the room in general as she flipped through her hard won book.
"The Litchock," Buffy answered, closing her own book with a thump. She turned sideways on the couch, lifting one leg up, so she could face Willow. "That stuff you told Spike earlier, about it trying to distract us? Well, the spell being to distract us... what if it was the Litchock? Or, since maybe that one's dead, another one."
"And," Giles added, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, "if so, why are they here? Why are they trying to distract us?"
"Yeah," Dawn said, "why didn't it just kill you outright?" Her head shot up when silence fell. Four sets of eyes were fixed on her face in disbelief. "N--- not that I wanted it to. I'm just saying." She shrugged a little uncomfortably.
"So you're thinking there's a whole mess of 'em here for some reason? A Hellmouth-y reason?" Willow asked. Figures, she thought, sighing. Nothing can ever be just plain old dumb luck. Just an accident. Had to be a reason behind everyone's actions in this town.
"Oh, ooo, ooo," Xander called out, gesturing to them as he stood up with his book. "I found something. Good news. The best." He dropped the opened book on the table and grinned at them all. "The bond can be reversed. *If*," he stressed, holding up a finger to quiet them all down, "if we can find the same demon that cast the spell." He clapped his hands together loudly, turning to Giles. "It's possible the one Willow and D.B. Junior found wasn't the same one, right? Of course, it is," he answered, too excited to listen to any naysayers.
Giles grabbed the book from the table while Buffy and Dawn crowded around his chair to read over his shoulders. Excited chatter floated around the room, only one voice missing, though no one noticed in their own happiness.
Willow was still on the couch, still had her book in her lap, staring at the curtained window across from her, trying to figure out how she felt about this news. It was possible to be free of the bond. Not a definite, but a definite possibility. She could be free of Spike. The small part of her heart that had come to care for him halted its beating for a few precious seconds, forcing her to take notice. The other part of her heart resumed its normal beating, overriding the caring part.
No joy shot through her at the thought of life going back to what passed for normal in their lives. No excitement and happiness. Nothing but an emptiness that was quickly settling over her. She didn't want to give up this thing she and Spike had. She wanted to see where it went, what would happen. In spite of his pain giving her a headache. Even after the thing in the bathroom, or maybe because of the thing in the bathroom.
Having trouble seeing, since she'd been staring unblinkingly at the window, she closed her eyes to relieve the dryness.
She felt someone sit next to her, taking her hand in their own. Large, male, had to be Xander. She opened her eyes with a forced smile, trying to put as much happiness as she could into her face. "This is... good news," she whispered.
"Is it?" His solemn eyes gazed into hers, searching for something, but she couldn't be sure what.
"Yeah." She nodded for emphasis, widening her smile until her cheeks started to hurt. "It is."
He leaned closer, glancing over at the trio around Giles' chair. "Dawn said Spike went into the bathroom while you were taking a bath." His jaw clenched tightly, but he held back on the anger and judgement for the time being. "You don't... like him do you? I mean, in a strictly non-friendly way."
She considered lying, considered not telling him that Spike had, in a very short time, come to mean a lot to her. "Yes, I do," she said truthfully, placing her hand over his clenched fist. "Xander, I wouldn't have slept with him unless I cared a little. I--"
"What?" Xander yelled, jumping to his feet. "You slept with him? You--" he turned away angrily, kicking at the coffee table, sending books and papers soaring across the room.
"Oh, dear Lord," Giles muttered, frowning at Willow.
Silence descended, as Xander stormed away from her. Buffy, who'd jumped up at the ready, relaxed slightly, giving Willow a sympathetic look.
"We didn't tell you for this very reason," Giles told Xander, who was pacing in front of the stairway. When Xander only glared at him, Giles stood up angrily. "Calm down," he ordered. "Remember, if you hurt Spike, you hurt Willow, so don't even think about going after him again."
Dawn stood across the room, nervously tugging at her hands. "I-- I'm sorry. I thought Xander knew. I thought he *knew*." She chuckled humorlessly, her bitterness for Buffy showing through. "I figured, if I knew, everyone else had to know already."
"It's not your fault," Willow sighed, getting to her feet. "I'm the one who told him. You just... helped me along a little." She smiled reassuringly, but the smile died when Dawn suddenly frowned angrily.
"Wait," she said huffily, swinging toward Giles. "What do you mean, 'hurt him again'? Xander hurt Spike?"
Buffy groaned, letting her head drop back in exasperation. "Dawn, I didn't tell you that part because I knew you'd be upset, and--"
"Upset?" Dawn repeated incredulously. "You're darn right I'm upset. But not because you didn't tell me. I'm pissed at Xander for hurting Spike. He had no right--"
Xander, for the first time that any of them could remember, turned to Dawn and told her sternly, "Stay out of this. You don't know-- what that monster does isn't just something you can shrug off because he's leashed by a piece of whatever."
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, huffing some more. "I know. I know what he is."
Xander crossed the room to stand in front of her. "No you don't, Dawn. Look at Willow, that is what Spike does to people. Only, they're usually a lot less living when he's through with them."
"Xander," Willow said tersely, seeing Dawn's frown and the tears in her eyes. Willow was furious him, and the whole situation and everyone involved in it. "Leave her alone."
"Xander," Buffy warned him, "stop it. You're scaring her."
"Good," Xander shouted. "Because someone needs to. Spike is a killer, same as every other vampire out there. Same as Angel," he said spitefully. "I'm just trying to make her realize it before it's too late."
"I get it," Dawn whispered through her tears. She stared hard at Xander for a few seconds before running past him, up the stairs.
Buffy sighed and went after her. "Thank you, Xander. That was very helpful," she tossed over her shoulder angrily.
Willow glared at Xander, who looked back at her steadily, his eyes hard and unyielding.
"You know, I bet Anya would like some company at the store right about now," Willow told him.
Giles' eyebrows rose at her harsh tone, but she didn't take it back. Xander chuckled without amusement. "Trying to get rid of me, Willow?"
"Yes," she answered, sitting back down on the couch before she collapsed. Forget aspirin, she thought, rubbing her aching head, I need a nice Morphine drip.
Giles headed into the kitchen while Xander continued to glare at Willow. She had her eyes closed, but she could feel him watching her, knew he was trying to figure her out. Figure out how she could care about a soulless demon. Sleep with a soulless demon. Well, she thought, being a little petty, I just can, so there.
After a few minutes, Giles returned with a steaming cup of hot tea, handing it to her with a sympathetic look. She took it gratefully just as Buffy and Dawn came back downstairs. Dawn was still grumpy and obviously pouting, as she looked everywhere but at Xander. Buffy sighed, shaking her head despairingly, sharing a small smile with Willow.
"I have to patrol. Dawn," she said sternly, turning to her sister, "be good. Xander," her voice was much harsher than it had been just seconds earlier, "come on."
Giles sighed, kneeling down to pick up the books and papers on the floor. "Be careful. And keep an eye out for the Litchock."
"Will do," Buffy called back, dragging Xander to the door. Just as they reached the foyer, the door swung open, emitting a grinning Spike striding straight into Buffy.
He reached out to steady her with one hand, then moved further into the room, dropping the box in his other hand on the floor. "I just found out there's a whole bunch of-- hey!" he yelled, when Xander pushed him back against the closet doors. "Hands off, mate, you're gonna hurt the girl."
Xander loosened his grip on Spike's duster with a quick glance at Willow to see if she was all right, then turned back to Spike, who wasn't resisting at all.
Buffy grabbed Xander's arm, trying to pry him away from Spike, but Xander kept his hold, not giving another inch. "Xander, don't you hurt them," she ground out through clenched teeth, holding back on hurting Xander.
"I warned you, Xander--" Giles began, starting toward them. "Let him go."
Dawn was standing a few feet away, looking ready to start crying again at any moment, but she was standing strong. Willow was proud of her, especially when she finally rushed toward the others, intending to help pull Xander from Spike. Willow herself kept quiet, bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming. She couldn't resist turning sideways to watch, knowing that if the other three couldn't pry Xander away from Spike, then she didn't have a prayer either. So she stayed seated, watching Spike. Waiting for the first sign of violence from him.
He stood tall, not backing down at the threat or fury in Xander's face, eyes, and posture. It was all over Xander, the restraint he was using to keep from hurting Willow. But it was also in Spike. As Xander's hands clenched tightly into the leather of Spike's duster, Spike's hands clenched into fists at his sides. As Xander glowered at Spike, Spike sneered back.
"Guess what?" Xander said harshly. "We found a way to reverse the bond, and just as soon as we find the Litchock that cast the spell, we'll break the bond." A smile curled Xander's lips, a truly menacing look accompanying it. "And then I'm coming after you."
Spike's eyes shot to Willow's at the news. She tried to figure out whether he was happy at the chance of being free of her, but his face was blank, not one iota of emotion on there. He turned back to Xander, ignoring everyone else in the room, and let his face change. "Get the bloody hell off of me," he snarled, reaching up with his arms to break Xander's suddenly loose hold. He pushed away from the wall, getting in Xander's face. "Bring it on, Harris," he said softly, and not one person in the room mistook the hostility in his voice for anything less than what it was.
Willow, tired, sore, and sick of all of her friends, stood up and trudged slowly up the stairs. "You can all leave now," she called over her shoulder. Pushing open her bedroom door, she listened for the sound of the front door closing, and breathed a sigh of relief when it finally did. Not bothering to see who left, and who stayed, she grabbed her pillows from the floor, along with a sheet, and laid down, letting the tears of pain fall.