Do What You Have to Do
Interlude
The Dinner
One thing that Spike loathed about high-class restaurants were the lack of simple food items on the menu. They rarely carried dishes that did not have either 1) five or more syllables 2) accents over every third letter or 3) were just plain weird. The current establishment that he was dining in didn't carry the Bloomin' Onion. Not only had he made his disgruntled mood known to the waiter but the six other people sitting at the table as well.
"I mean, you'd think a fine establishment such as this," he said, heavy on the sarcasm with a light sprinkle of dissatisfaction, "would at least have the bloody decency to have it. S'not like it's gonna kill the blighters to put one little extra on their big, shiny menu, now would it?" He capped the rant off by waving said menu in the air, his disgust evident.
"Yeah," Dawn said in a much too chipper voice, "and while they're at it, for a side item why not throw Cheetos on the list, cuz, hey, gotta have the cheesy goodness." Her bright smile dissolved into a fit of giggles at Spike's indignant huff.
"Thanks a lot, Niblet. Thought you'd be on my side, at least," he admonished and hung his head in an attempt to gain sympathy. The unexpected gesture knocked everyone at the table off kilter and it took them a minute to recover. By the time they did, the impish grin on Spike's face had everyone lost in laughter.
The laughter died down as the waiter set down the appetizers on the table. "Not one to back up the ex-bleached dead boy," Xander supplied as he examined the roach-like shells of the mussels that were set before him, "but it couldn't hurt if they, you know, introduced food that the common folk could enjoy." His last words were punctuated by experimental pokes at the mussels.
"Y'see," Spike said warily at Xander's statement, " 'M not the only one who thinks that this place is lacking a certain amount of—manliness."
"Of course," Giles deadpanned, "what would a five-star restaurant be without cheap American beer and peanut shells littering the walkways."
"Don't forget the blaring of music by bands chosen solely for their ability to dance," Buffy interjected, an all too familiar smirk etched in her features.
"Hey!" Dawn protested. "That is so not true. Justin can really sing—he just can dance good, too."
"Dawnie's right," Willow supported, "he can sing. It's just those other nefarious tag-alongs that lack true vocals."
"That's not true," the teen argued. "Lance…Lance Bass can sing."
"But I thought you said the only reason you liked him was because he reminded you of…" Buffy began but was interrupted by a squealing and decidedly embarrassed Dawn.
"You're right, Giles," she hurried, "they can't sing. Don't you agree, Buffy?" She asked and shot her sister an equally menacing and pleading look.
"Well," the slayer teased, "I guess so. Still, I think you were…"
"So, Spike," the former Key said, turning poignantly towards her former crush, "Buffy said you were in San Diego. What were you doing there?"
A part of the Big Bad still left in him whispered to continue the assault on the teen but the desperate eyes that stared back at him were too much and Spike knew that Dawn's pleading look was his kryptonite. Resigning himself to be wrapped around the youngest Summers's finger for the rest of his natural life, Spike answered her question.
"Well, actually, San Diego was a stopover for my transport to Africa."
"Africa?" Xander asked and Spike was surprised at the genuine curiosity not to mention the toned down hostility coming from the brunette. "I mean, in your original persuasion, wouldn't a place like Africa be, oh I don't know, the last place on earth you'd wanna be?"
Spike chuckled at Xander's question though the humor died from his eyes as he answered truthfully. "To be honest, Harris, anyplace was better than being here," he pointed to his head, "and here," then laid his hand over his chest. Sensing that everyone knew what he was referring to, he immediately switched topics in an effort to lighten the mood lest he be the target of angry stares that he knew he still deserved.
"Anyway, found my own personal transporter."
"I knew they had Star Trek technology somewhere," he muttered and aloud, "so, did it look like the ones they have on Stark Trek?" Garrett was the only one to respond as the others merely rolled their eyes.
"Uh, Xan," he said as if talking to a three-year-old, "we live in what's called the real world. Now, repeat after me; 'Star Trek is not real. It is a product of one Gene Roddenbery's imagination. There are no Klingons, Romulans or Ferengis.'" He finished by giving the Construction Supervisor a placating smile that was returned with a not-so pleasant hand gesture.
"Bet people said the same thing about demons and vampires back in the day," a defeated Xander muttered.
"Anyway, as I was sayin'," the former vampire continued, "t'was a bloke there that took to such transportationally deficient denizens of the underworld such as myself."
"Wow, Spike," Buffy joked, "never heard you speak so well of yourself before." She batted her curved eyelashes at him and it was all that he could not to jump over the table and finish what they had started the night before.
"Well, what can I say?" He sneered before drowning out her laughter with his voice. "Anyway, this wanker's like 'I'll drop ya right off in Africa and bring ya back, too.' 'Course, the stipulation was me possessing something to trade." His eyes narrowed at the mussel he held between his fingertips before slamming his head back and devouring the meat trapped inside the shell.
"Well it just so happens that this particular gateway demon's pretty partial to any sort o' transportation with two wheels."
"So this demon," Giles interrupted, "whose ability to open portals that bridge halfway across the world is a…motorcycle collector?"
"Got it in one, Rupes. So I go to him, tell 'im where I want to go and what I'm willin' to trade and he's like okay. I ask him if it's a two-way thing and he says yeah, that he'll bring me back and I'm like great. Gave me this crystal to break when I was ready to come back. So, he does his mojo and conjures the portal and as I'm walkin' thru, he throws this soddin' caveat about not being entirely accurate. Bloody ponce threw me in the middle of nowhere with about two hours to sunset. 'Ad to run for my bloody unlife to find shelter before the sun came up. Barely made it, too.
"Anyway, after I passed the trials, went to the same place I was dropped off, broke the amulet he gave me and was whisked back in good old California. 'Course, I landed about an hour outside of San Diego but it was no big."
"So what happened," Willow asked, "after you got there? I mean did…did you feel guilty a-about the things you had done?"
"God, yes," he whispered as the thought of how that first month had felt. All the people that had died at his hands, having their lives drained from them by his sharp teeth ripping into their flesh. Mentally shaking himself from the memories, Spike continued again but forced a lilt of joviality to his tone.
"Anyway, I wasn't in San Diego even a week before I met Rachel." At the mention of the raven-haired woman that Spike had kissed on stage, Buffy snorted unconsciously.
"Rachel? Who's she?" Dawn intervened, her eyes darting between that of an obviously jealous sister and an equally amused ex-vampire. So concerned with the two former lovers that Dawn, as well as the others, missed the flash of pain that crossed over Garrett's face.
"Whoa," Xander whistled, "ex-dead boy's got a main squeeze? You cheeky devil you." Spike glared at Xander for several seconds before bursting into a silly grin. He wasn't naïve enough to think that he and the whelp'd be best buds but the hostility in the brunette's eyes was a little less sharp, a bit more understanding. And though he'd die a thousand times before admitting it, Spike kind of liked it.
"Rachel was co-owner of the Blue Song with me. Like I said, ran into her about a week after getting to San Diego. Gave me a place to stay till I could suss things out."
"Did she know about your previous incarnation?" Giles asked hesitantly.
"Yep. Told her everything," Spike said and made brief eye contact with Buffy before turning his attention towards everyone else.
"So, this Rachel," Xander quipped, "was she crazy or a ditz? Cuz, to be honest, Spike, your track record with women isn't…so good," the last part was whispered as six sets of eyes pinned him with death glares. Suddenly, the mussels became quite an interesting item.
"So you told her everything?" Garrett asked, getting back on track. On Spike's nod, he continued. "How did she take it?"
"Wasn't surprised actually. That's not to say that San Diego is the hotspot for demon kind like SunnyD and Hell-A, but I've seen my fair share of hell raisers there and she had too."
"So, did wonder woman do any fighting?" Buffy asked with a light edge of sarcasm.
Spike smiled inwardly at her muted jealousy but did nothing to show that he'd heard it. "Actually, bout a year after we bought the club, she did tag along with me one night. Almost ended up as a tasty treat." He barely contained his mirth when he saw Buffy mouth 'too bad', oblivious of Spike staring at her lips. Luckily, not even Garrett had caught her slip and Spike decided to file it away for future torment, er, reference.
"Okay," Dawn piped up, "rewind back a year. What happened when you two met? How did you get the bar? And what's gonna happen to it now that you're gone and when can I go see it?" Spike smiled at the rapidity of her questions and held his hands up in defense.
"Slow down, Niblet," he recommended. "Give a bloke a chance to form an answer." He patted her arm affectionately as he spoke and she beamed at his touch.
"To answer the first question, we just seemed to connect that first day. Bumped into 'er outside her flat, I did. Don't know what, but she saw somethin' in me, hiked me up to her place before I had nary a word to say. I was still disoriented, mind you and that's when I started babbling. Told her everything. S'all I did that first week—that and cry," the last word was spoken so quietly that everyone had to strain their ears to piece it together.
"Anyway," he continued, oblivious to the concerned stares, "she really helped me along, even convinced me to come back 'ere."
"Wait a minute," Dawn interjected, "I thought you came back because Buffy found you."
Spike winced at the confusion in Dawn's tone and knew she wouldn't like what he had to say. Taking a deep breath, he explained. "Did come back, Niblet. 'Bout a month after I left."
"You came back?" She asked incredulously and he nodded. "And you didn't come to see us? See me?" The pain he saw in her beautiful blue eyes rocked Spike's resolve and he barely contained his guilt.
"I—I'll explain later, Dawn," he replied in all seriousness and she only smiled at him. No one was fooled by the false cheer she applied and Spike knew that the little tidbit of information might have set his reconciliation with her back a few steps.
"So," Willow spoke up, "how did you get the bar?"
"Well," Spike said, grateful for the reprieve, "when me and 'Night started talking…"
" 'Night'?" Buffy asked arching an eyebrow.
" 'S'my nickname for her cuz her hair was so dark. Eyes too."
"That's original," the slayer muttered and crossed her arms petulantly.
"That it isn't, Goldilocks," he emphasized the last part and Buffy blushed furiously at the implication. "But like I said, when we got to talkin', she suggested I turn back to poetry and…"
"Wait," Xander interrupted, "did you say turn back to poetry? When were you ever into it?"
Spike tried to hide the embarrassment at his first mortal life but failed miserably and a red flush coated his cheeks. "S'not important," he grumbled, "the important thing is that she gave me an idea to do somethin' with myself. So, I took the money I 'ad saved up and…"
"You had money saved up?" Giles asked, removing his glasses.
"How much?" Garrett questioned.
"Bloody 'ell, people. Contrary to popular belief, some of us vampires—well, ex-vampires—some of us do have the soddin' initiative to save a pound here and there. And here I thought the lot of you were above the stereotypes associated with creatures of the night," he reprimanded.
"Oh yeah," Buffy replied, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Because you 'creatures of the night' aren't into the whole destruction and mayhem thing. Or the whole drink blood, allergic to sunlight issues and you never cheat at kitten poker."
"Kitten poker…?" Dawn asked but Buffy didn't hear her.
"And you most certainly don't mooch off a slayer and her watcher for cash just to help." When she was done, Buffy crossed her legs roughly, bumping the table and rolled her eyes.
"So," Giles said, eyeing his surrogate daughter warily, "this whole time, you've had money that you could have been using to purchase your own goods and yet you extorted…"
" 'Extort' is such an ugly word, Rupes," the Brit drawled, smirk firmly entrenched across his face.
"Then what would you call it?" The Watcher demanded.
"I'd say it was a fair exchange of goods and services. Ask demon-girl, bet she'd appreciate my capitalistic forthrightness," he smiled though a blush threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of his last time with Anya.
"Whatever," Buffy grunted before fixing Spike with a radiant--and quite fake--smile. "So when do we all get a tour of the place because I'd love to see the ins and outs of it."
"Well, pet," Spike goaded, "thought you already took the short tour."
"But Spike," she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and batting her eyes at Spike, "I so have to meet your wonderful friend."
"You saw her, Buff?" Xander asked ignoring the slayer's escalating attitude.
Seeing that she was being addressed directly, Buffy's attitude dropped two levels and she turned to Xander. "Yeah, she was on stage with him."
"On stage?" Willow pried. "As in singing on stage?"
"As in Spike singing on stage?" Dawn grinned.
"Yes," Buffy answered with a genuine smile, "Spike was singing and playing the guitar."
All eyes turned towards the blonde-tipped head of the former vampire that wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the table.
"Who'da thunk it," Xander quipped, shaking his head, "Mr. Big Bad making with the American Idol. I have officially heard it all."
"Actually," Buffy said, "he didn't sound too bad." She gave Spike a wink and he relaxed visibly. As brazen as he was, he still felt needles of apprehension when it came to his poetry or musical talents.
"So," Garrett whistled, "are you gonna sing for Graduation Girl here?" Spike glanced at the other man, looking for signs that Garrett was being condescending but Spike saw nothing of the sort in his gray eyes. All he saw was the mirth dancing back and forth and—oh, yes, the pain.
But before he could examine it further, Dawn slapped him on the arm. "So you're gonna sing for me, Spike? You so have to." Spike was taken aback by her ready acceptance of him, despite finding out that he had been back to Sunnydale without contacting her. He owed her big time and a song, though small, would be the perfect place to start his groveling.
"Sure, Bit," he said and ran a hand across her velvety locks, "s'only fair since Big sis got to hear me. But it'll have ta wait. Tomorrow?"
Dawn stuck out her lip, pouting and nodded her head sullenly. "Fine, tomorrow it is."
"Hey," Willow objected, "what about me? Do I get a song, too?" Her shimmering green eyes pled with him and Spike knew that there was no way he could deny her, either.
"Cor," he growled in consternation, "what is it with me and not being able to say no to beautiful women?" Both Dawn and Willow turned a fiery red and Buffy hid her face in her hands while the other men smiled, nodding in agreement.
"Guess I'll have to agree with you there, Spikey," Xander sighed. "These three little ladies are something special, aren't they."
"I'll second that," Garrett said and patted Buffy's leg under the table while throwing winks at Willow and Dawn. "What's a fella to do?"
"Yes," Giles offered as the waiter returned with their main courses, "what indeed."
"Okay," Willow spoke up, "now that you guys are done embarrassing us utterly and completely, tell us a little more about your friend, Spike."
"Sure," he replied and downed another mussel. "Like I said, me an' Rachel took the money I 'ad and bought the majority shares of this club called Winston's. I know, right nancy boy name--sorta like Rupert," Spike patted the Watcher on the back and chuckled throatily at the older man's incredulous stare.
"So how did it get the name Blue Song?" Buffy asked. Though they had talked a lot about the club (though not about Rachel, thankfully) he hadn't told her where it had gotten it's name.
"Kinda two-fold, actually," he said and leaned back in his chair. "The way I was feelin', I wanted a place where ladies and gents with burdensome thoughts could come an' get 'em of their chests. Rachel came up with the name." He ducked his head and ran a hand through his tousled locks. "Said it reminded 'er of me."
"Okay," Buffy smiled, "but, gotta be honest, you really don't look like the blue boy to me."
"Thanks ever so, luv," he fired back teasingly before dropping his head again. "Said it reminded 'er of me eyes."
"Oh, that's sweet," Willow said and on Buffy's look amended, "in an utterly cheesy way." She gave Spike an apologetic smile and he winked his acceptance of it.
"So you have blue eyes," Xander supplied, "and she just added the song part or is there something else to it that's overly poetic," the last word emphasized.
"Actually, you're dead on, mate. Wasn't just that my eyes were blue that got 'ere attention but she said there was a story she read in 'em. A story that could be sung to the world, as she put it." He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. "So in renovatin' the place, I wanted to make it somethin' special, like that Caritas bar Peaches frequents in LA. Found a right lovely Wicca and her warlock hubby to cast a spell o' sorts on the place."
"Spell?" Giles asked his voice full of reproach. "What kind of spell?"
Spike dismissed the inquiry with a wave of his hand. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Rupes. This was white hat mojo all the way, none of the dark stuff."
"What did it do?" Willow asked curiously. Ever since coming back from England, she had taken a vested interest—when time permitted—to studying the various forms of white magic and the positive effects it could have when used properly.
"Well, it's quite simple, really. Bloke comes to the stage, sings 'bout his troubles and that's when the spell kicks in. Takes his—or her—troubles and disperses them from the host's body."
"So, it's like a Hayoka?" Garrett asked. On the Scoobies puzzled looks, he explained. "I…I saw it on Highlander once. This Native American immortal that was Duncan's friend was the Hayoka of his tribe."
"Okay," Spike said, "still not followin' ya."
"In…in the texts that I have read, a Hayoka is…is sort of a filter," Giles interceded. "He, or she, absorbs the evil from a person into his or herself, allowing that person a…a new beginning. A clean slate, emotionally, that is."
"The anger and pain that the person is feeling transfers to the Hayoka from the subject like Giles said," Garrett added. "It doesn't totally remove it but lessens it considerably."
"But what about this hi-yoda?" Buffy asked. "Wouldn't he get overwhelmed if he did that too much?"
"Not necessarily," Garrett supplied. "Hayokas are similar to slayers in a way, being that they are both ordained at birth. After I saw Highlander, I did a bit of research on the term and found that much of what the show said about it was accurate." He glanced around, noticing that everyone's gaze was fixed on him.
"As it is, all humans are born with a finite capacity to contain negative emotions before said negative emotions start to eat away at the person's innate goodness. In theory, a Hayoka possesses an infinite amount of space for that negativity."
"So they can like, what, absorb pretty much all the negativity in the world and never be corrupted?" Buffy questioned. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought back to that particular Highlander, remembering Garrett watching it late one night as she dozed. "Hey, wasn't that the one where Duncan tried to kill Richie?"
"What?" Xander hissed. "I thought Richie was like his Padawan. Why would he try to kill him?"
"Well, Duncan's friend, the Coltec Hayoka had taken in too much evil and it overwhelmed him. Duncan had to kill him and when he did, the dark quickening he received overrode his moral compass, hence, evil Duncan."
"But I thought the Hayoka thingies were supposed to have infinite capacity for that stuff," Dawn reminded. "So what happened?"
"Guess he wasn't a bottomless well after all, Niblet," Spike replied.
"So if that's the case, what's going to happen to the two that performed the spell at your place?" Buffy asked, her back straightening as she made to go into slayer mode.
Spike smiled at her transformation, his love for her growing even more. "S'okay, luv, they don't absorb it into themselves."
"So what do they do?" She pressed.
"There's this talisman—the Dansian Crystal—some rot like that."
"The…the Dansian Crystal?" Giles prodded. "Are…are you sure?"
"Look, mate," Spike replied, "this is the Niblet's dinner, time for the celebratories. Not some forum for talk on some thousand year old crystal or knock-off." He gazed at Giles sternly and the watcher returned his gaze before backing down.
"Yes, Spike," he said and polished his glasses with a napkin, "you're quite right. This is Dawn's day, er, night and it shall be treated accordingly."
"Damn straight," Spike quipped and Dawn punched him lightly in the arm.
"Watch your bleedin' tongue," she teased and laughed when he gave her what was supposed to be a menacing glare.
"Keep jokin', Nibs," Spike growled, "and see if you ever get your present."
"Presents?" She asked eagerly. "There's gonna be presents?" She rubbed her hands together excitedly and everyone broke out in laughter.
"There might be," Spike intimated and threw a sly grin at the graduating teen.
"Well Dawnie," Buffy smiled and touched her sister on the arm, "guess that means you'll have to be nice to darling Spikey for another," she glanced at her watch, "sixteen hours."
"Do I have to?" She whined.
"Hey!" Spike grunted indignantly, "sitting right here."
"Oh, you are, aren't you?" Xander joshed.
"Unfortunately for me," Giles murmured. Everyone turned towards the Watcher in disbelief and he squirmed under the scrutiny. "What?"
"Knew you had a pulse somewhere under that stuffy upper crust British veneer, mate," Spike remarked and patted him on the back.
"Eat your food, you prat," Giles growled and everyone burst into laughter.
Leaning across the table, Garrett fixed Giles with a serious stare and whispered conspiratorially. "How did you survive so long around this people?"
Giles leaned forward and, removing his glasses replied, "You have no idea."
***The Highlander episodes I'm referring to were from the fourth season. Part one was called Something Wicked and the second part was Deliverance. I'm not sure if Hayoka is a true legend in Native American lore but for now, assume that it is.
***Next chapter, we get Garrett and Buffy talking on the bluff.