Chapter 10

The Hit

Sunnydale – May 11th

"Spike! Help!" Buffy called out desperately. Two vampires held her tightly while a third kicked her in the head. Spike turned from the vampire he was fighting and leapt on the one who had just kicked her, the force of his momentum knocking him aside. Buffy twisted enough to deliver a bone breaking kick to the knee of one of the vampires restraining her, then stepped quickly backwards and bent over, throwing the other vampire over her shoulders and several yards away. "Thanks," she said casually to Spike, who was locked in a life and death struggle with the vampire he had snatched away from her.

"Don't bloody mention it," he squeezed out raggedly.

The vampire with the broken leg attempted to crawl away, but two quick strides brought Buffy to it, and a swift stroke down of her wooden stake saw the creature obliterated into dust. Two vampires now circled her – the one she had thrown and the one Spike had originally been fighting. They moved more cautiously now that one of their own had been killed.

"Decisions, decisions," Buffy said aloud, blatantly mocking her two enemies. "I think I'll start with you in the raggedy sweater, because that sweater is just an absolute crime." She moved rapidly to her left, and in a flurry of blows managed to stake the creature. She turned to face the other. "One fashion victim down, one to go."

Spike, meanwhile, was hit repeatedly by the vampire he was fighting. Step by step he was knocked backwards. Punch drunk, he staggered around a tombstone and then leaned on it, facing his adversary, holding up one hand in supplication. "Now hang on there, mate. Look, what have you and I got to fight about, eh? Why don't we just call it a night, and go grab a pint together. What say?"

"You kill your own," the creature growled, "so now one of your own is going to kill you."

"Now wait just one bloody minute," Spike began to argue, standing straight up and pointing at the other vampire. "You can't really blame me, now can you? I got this bloody chip in my head that prevents me from harming any humans, right. So here I am, a vampire, with nothing to kill. So, maybe I took out a little bit of rage on a few other vampires. Let me tell you something, they deserved it. It's not like we was friends or anything. And it wasn't one of the respected elders, neither. It was just a bunch of rotters who didn't stick with the way things are supposed to be here in Sunny-D. That doesn't have nothing to do with you and I being mates, now does it?"

The other vampire approached menacingly. "Word among some is that you're all soft on the slayer, all in love with her. Word is you kill our kind to get in good with her. You're a vampire, but you kill other vampires in order to make the Slayer love you back."

Spike lit a cigarette. He took a puff as he pondered his opponent's words. "Well," he said, taking another drag. "There is that, too, I guess," he said finally through the cigarette in his mouth, both hands free to fight.

The admission left the other vampire startled for a moment, but a moment as enough. Spike whirled and snatched up the grave-digger's shovel that had been left behind the tombstone, and belted the other vampire's head like a fastball in a world series game. The metal edge of the shovelhead was enough to slice through the neck of the creature, sending the head sailing. Both head and body turned to dust in mid-flight. Spike leaned on the shovel, admiring his work and taking another drag of the cigarette. "He was getting boring anyway."

He looked up to see Buffy approaching. "Nice shot," she said. "Looking to break into the majors?"

"We play cricket in England," he said peevishly. Something was definitely wrong with the whole attack; something he couldn't quit put his finger on. "Not that you would know that, then. You being all cheerleaderly and all." He paused and took another drag.

The attack was beginning to gnaw on him, but he didn't know why. And that was making him feel rather testy. And while he couldn't hurt humans physically, he could certainly be mean to them. "So, where'd you leave your pom-poms, eh? Left them with some of your little high-school friends now? Maybe you should depend on them to get your over-developed hiney out of trouble next time."

"What do you mean, overdeveloped hiney?" Buffy asked, her considerable vanity hurt by the accusation.

"Let's just say that you haven't been a size six in quite a while. Actually, you're probably pushing one size for every year your sister's been around." He smiled cruelly at her.

"Now wait one minute," Buffy practically shouted. "Dawn is fifteen. There is no way I'm anywhere close to that size."

"Really?" Spike said. "Well, maybe I'm wrong, then. It's not like I need to be paying Jenny Craig a visit, now is it? Now then, would it be all right with you if I went home and caught a bit of the telly? Conan has J-Lo on tonight."

"Big J-Lo fan, are we?" Buffy hissed, still mad at Spike for his comments.

"Well, at least she's still a size six," Spike replied. Spike's natural belligerence was magnified in response to the other vampire's accusations and the whole set-up of the attack. Truth be told, he was more than a little bothered by the thought that word of his growing obsession with Buffy should be getting around. He was not welcome by the rest of the scoobies. If word got out that he was killing demons to make points with the Slayer, he would no longer be welcome in demonic circles, either. The fact that killing was a need for him, and that demons were the only thing left he could kill, would be of no consequence. He would truly be alone at that point. He'd rather go back to his crypt and be alone voluntarily than to have it forced upon him.

What bothered him even more, though, is how those rumors were circulating. The vampires they had fought this evening were new to town. They weren't well connected with any of the other members of Sunndale's demon community. They also knew too much about Buffy's routine. The ambush they had set up might have worked had Spike not been patrolling with Buffy. It's doubtful that it was simply chance.

The vampires had jumped out from behind two large tombstones less than one hundred yards from Spike's crypt. Two had jumped up and attacked immediately when Spike and Buffy had walked between the two stones. Buffy had moved forward to engage them and a third appeared. Spike was just about to charge in when the fourth had come at him from behind. The vamp had almost succeeded in staking Spike in the back when Spike had smelled him. The raggedy sweater that Buffy had insulted earlier was also a very smelly sweater – a fact that, combined with the greater acuity of vampire senses, had allowed Spike continued existence. Had the vampire killed Spike, Buffy would have never even seen the creature that would have killed her. But instead of one dead slayer and one neutered but also dead vampire, there were four piles of dust a few yards from Spike's home.

"You go ahead," Buffy said, trying not to sound irritated at Spike's tone of voice. "I'll just finish the loop and head back home."

"Whatever," Spike said irritably. "Try not to need me anymore tonight."

"Aye, aye," Buffy said with a mock salute, and so they parted.

An hour later, Buffy was home. She checked on her mom and her sister before trying to catch the few hours of sleep she allowed herself before having to get up for class. Something about the night's patrol had really bothered Spike. While he was normally less than congenial, tonight he was different. He was angry and distracted. Whatever it was that had set him off was important, Buffy was sure of it. Only she didn't have any idea what it could be. Probably the best choice would be to discuss it with the rest of the gang tomorrow.

* * *

The next afternoon, the whole group sat around the research table at The Magic Box. They stared at her incredulously.

"So, let me get this straight," Xander said slowly. "You're worried about Spike's feelings? Maybe we should just, I don't know, buy him a card."

 "Hallmark: When you care enough to send the very best," Dawn, Buffy's fifteen-year-old sister, chimed in encouragingly. Dawn was rather infatuated with Spike, but at the moment the thought that such a thing might happen was so inconceivable to everyone that they did not notice.

"He actually accused you of being a size fifteen, and you want to be nice to him?" Anya was rather incredulous. "I don't get it. I mean, he practically said that you'd put on eight dress sizes, and we all know it's only been two or three."

"It's not a Hallmark card thing," Buffy said, desperately ignoring Anya.

"You mean, it's more of a take him out and buy a few beers, or, uh, bloods, kind of thing?" Willow suggested, trying to be helpful and supportive of Buffy.

"Or maybe a cake," Tara suggested, following suit.

"Yeah, 'Sorry to dust up your front yard with dead demons, even if your front yard is a cemetery,' kind of cake," offered Willow. "Or a, 'Sorry my overdeveloped hiney needed saving' kind of cake."

"No. Wait a minute." Buffy held up her hand. "First of all, my hiney is just fine. And I am sooo still a size six." She took a moment to glare at everyone, to make sure that there was no further discussion on the issue. "Second, I'm worried about Spike's feelings, but not I-want-to-make-him-feel-better worried. I'm more I-wonder-what-this-means worried. Get it?"

"Buffy has a point," said Giles slowly. The watcher put his chin in his hand and thought for a moment. "The thing about Spike is that he's fairly predictable. His response to combat has always been one of excitement bordering on euphoria. If this attack brought on a different response, it really behooves us to discover why."

"I'll tell you why," said Spike, emerging from the store's basement. From the sewer he could enter the basement of the Magic Box, leading sudden appearances.

"I've got to remember to put a bell on that door," muttered Giles to himself.

"Hey, Spike," Dawn said cheerily.

"Well, speak of the devil and … okay, it's just not worth it," offered Xander.

Everyone waited for Spike to continue talking. "Don't leave us all hanging like a … uh … hanging thing," said Buffy finally. "What's up?"

"There's a contract out on me," Spike said matter-of-factly. "That ambush wasn't for little miss blondie, here. It was for me."

"Sorta like the Sopranos," commented Buffy, "only with demons."

"Are you sure about this?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Spike said. "I made a few inquiries this morning. Turns out those blokes were out of Sacramento. A guy I know who knows folks up there made some calls. They were hired out to do a contract job a couple days ago. When they got here, they started asking after me – where I lived and stuff like that."

"Extraordinary," Giles said.

"Okay, but am I the only one here thinking, 'So what?'" Xander asked.

"Yes, you are," Dawn shot back.

"Well, Xander does have a point. This is, apparently, demon business. I'm not sure we should interfere in this case." Giles was clearly trying to not get involved.

"Oh bugger off," Spike exclaimed. "I don't know why I even bother with you sots. But before you go and wash your hands of this whole thing, keep two things in mind. One, they almost got the Slayer last night. Two, the person who took the hit out on me was a human."

"That does complicate things," was all Giles, or anyone, had to say.