=Chapter 3=
Getting home is simple enough. After going back to Spike's hovel, we get my bag and an armload of his less dirty clothes, and then I call Marianna. Just as she arrives, I punch in the code for Olson's cell, just to find out where everyone is. Well, more exactly, I want to know where everyone's not. They're a demanding group of people and I'd rather Spike was eased into them again.
It seems that they're pulling an all-nighter at the Magic Box, so I have Marianna bring us to the apartment. She hands me the phone back, and her eyes are shining with something a little hidden as she nods at me and Spike and then leaves.
"Bloody hell," Spike gasps. I turned my head and see that he's gaping at the gargantuan Christmas tree. We ran out of ornaments halfway through decorating it, and compensated with huge clumps of tinsel. "That's the gaudiest thing I've seen in a while," he says with horrified awe.
"Look behind you," I say sweetly. He actually shields his eyes when he sees the banister leading upstairs. There's about a thousand flashing lights, reams of shiny garland, and another metric ton of tinsel on the short banister. It makes me a little dizzy to look at head on. I love it.
"I stand corrected," Spike says dryly, smiling a little at me.
I move to the banister and turn the lights off in deference to his sensitive eyes and give him a little shrug. "I'd say we have about an hour before Faith ends up, uh, bailing on the research," I venture.
His eyes have fallen on the cardboard cut-out of a fireplace that we attached to the wall by the tree. Four stockings hang above it, each of them bearing a name in sloppy clumps of glitter. Clumping seems to be the holiday theme.
"What happened? Some holiday demon projectile vomit?"
My lips twitch and I take the bundle of clothes from him and deposit them by the door. No sense putting them elsewhere when I'm going to take them to the small laundry area in the complex as soon as I get a chance.
"No demon. Just Faith and Josh," I explain.
His eyes widen. "The hard ass Slayer, and the 'been there, done that, so over it' pretty boy?" he asks incredulously, and I have to laugh at the look on his face. "Hell. I've been gone longer than I thought if that's true."
I'm walking towards him when I come to a stop and blink. There's no duster. I'm a little surprised that I'm just noticing that fact. I glance at the pile of clothes and don't see it there either. My arms fall to my sides as I finally stop reaching out to take it from him. He turns away and a muscle at his cheek twitches.
Apparently, one minefield person in my life just wasn't enough.
"There are some clothes in the coat closet," I muse thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down. "Some things Josh and Olson have left. And there's plenty of towels in the bathroom."
He looks at me again, lips quirking seemingly against his will. "Saying I stink, pet?" he asks with amusement.
I smile and shrug. "I already said that. Just offering you a solution, now." I frown as I think about the wound on his abdomen. "And I don't think it's hygienic for your cuts."
"Should've known you'd be a mother hen," he mutters, sounding put-upon. But he rummages through the coat closet then makes his way into the bathroom.
While he's showering, I set a plate of food in the microwave for Faith to heat up when she gets in. Left to her own devices, she eats the leftovers cold, and straight form the container. Then I kind of stand at the counter for a moment, because I suddenly realize that there's no blood in the house. We used to keep some on hand just...just in case Spike came back out of the blue, but eventually it was just too much of a waste.
I remember that Dawn used to make hot chocolate for Spike, that summer. Not often, because she was usually watching movies and forgetting about life, but a few times. When Spike pads into the living room on bare feet, dressed in a pair of Olson's black, drawstring pants and no shirt, I'm taking a mug out of the microwave and replacing the plate of food.
Spike tosses his soiled clothing on top of the pile and takes the mug from me as I cross the living room.
"Thanks," he says softly, and his eyes are just so...wide. Like some kind of panoramic sky that goes on forever and I think that it's a good thing he didn't have a soul that summer, because I would have fallen into that soft, warm sky and never looked back. He sets the cup on the coffee table, and I see the small first aid kit in his other hand. "Let's see the wrist," he tells me as he pops it open.
He waves me to the sofa, and I sit, then shift to the side when he takes a seat next to me. He tears open an antiseptic wipe and takes my hand in his, then dabs at the bite. I wince at the stinging sensation, and decide it's kind of weird, how gentle he is. I mean, he's a vampire and he's really strong. I think that if I were a vampire, I'd forget my strength and break all sorts of things. Like people. And drinking glasses.
"When we take our trip?" I venture, watching him search through the small white case for some band-aids. "We're not allowed to require first aid."
"That so?" he says absently, pulling open a band-aid and then holding up the PowerPuff Girl bandage for inspection. He lifts both his brows as if asking for an explanation.
"I think they're cute," I say a little awkwardly. I don't tell him that while Willow thought of her little group as the Scoobies, I think this new group is more like the PowerPuff Girls. They say that in any group of three girls, there's the cute one, the smart one, and the...tough one. The PowerPuff Girls hold true to this formula, and so do we. Of course, Josh isn't a girl; he's a femme gay man and that's not even close to being a woman. But if I forget that tiny detail, it works.
Faith is, of course, Buttercup. Tough talking, bad-tempered, and eager to solve all problems with a little booty kicking. Faith and Buttercup also share the honor of having names that are, at first glance, a little too soft for how hard you think they are. But only at first glance.
I'm Bubbles. The cute one. Also, in high school? Well, let's just say that fourteen year-old boys tend to take notice when a classmate, um, develops...breasts that aren't small. I used to cry about the nickname, and I feel a little empowered to be reclaiming it. And, wow, that sounds a lot more militant than I really am.
Josh is Blossom, the smart one, even though he's not really our leader the way Blossom is the leader of the PowerPuff Girls. Hm, my little parallel gets more hole-ridden every time I consider it. That leaves Olson as Professor Utonium, which is rather fitting.
Spike taps me on the nose, a teasing look in his eyes, and I duck my head. I don't do the head ducking nearly as much as I used to, but it's still around. He uses two band-aids on the bite, and I notice that they're both Bubbles. I frown down at them. The band-aids aren't sorted in the tin, and he had to have sought them out. I raise my eyes, and he winks at me.
I lean back and Spike puts the first aid kit aside in favor of the cocoa. "So, you can stay with us," I tell him.
"Can't stay here forever," he says neutrally, resting the mug on his knee.
"I guess not, but it's as good a place as any to...settle."
His eyes fly to mine and we stare at each other for a moment. Spike looks away first. I go quiet then, because I know he's got to be steeling himself for Faith's arrival. She's not going to hold her questions the way I have.
Ten minutes later, as I'm staring at the tree and trying to figure out the pattern of the twinkling--I think there's a short, because one set is just really not blinking predictably--the apartment phone rings. Which strikes me as very strange, because really the only ones who call the apartment are Olson and Josh, and only if they can't get through to my or Faith's cell phones. Since they're all supposed to be together researching, I haven't the faintest idea who is calling.
"Hello?"
"Tara?" Faith exclaims, and then a dial tone sounds in me ear. A few seconds later, the front door is thrown open and she's strolling in with a frown. I realize she must have seen the lights on and wondered who was in the house. The frown shifts into a blinking stare of disbelief, then slides into an ill-tempered glare. I'm not really sure who the last is for, but I know it'll have my name written on it in a few minutes. I set the cordless phone on the base and go back to the couch.
"Well, fuck me," she says slowly, closing the door. Her eyes are on Spike, raking over his injuries. He nods at her, just once, and drinks some more cocoa. "A totally ass-kicked Spike. In my living room. And Christmas still a four days away."
Every time I think I've gotten a little better at figuring out Faith, she changes the rules all over again. Right now, I would have thought she'd be confused, maybe a little glad to see Spike, and curious beyond belief. Instead she already looks angry, and I haven't the faintest idea why. Or maybe I do. Maybe it has to do with the insecurities that got triggered earlier at the cemetery.
"Santa came early," I say easily, smiling at her. She shrugs, using the motion to shake her coat off. She hangs it on the handle of the coat closet. "Did you guys find anything out?"
"Yeah," she says absently, still staring at Spike. She grimaces suddenly. "What the *fuck* is that stench?." I point at the clothes and the grimace gets worse until she hurries away from the pile. "Well," she drawls flatly, her eyes drilling into first me, and then Spike. "Someone want to clue me in, here?"
"Been here and there," Spike answers blankly. "Now I'm here."
The glare is back, directed at Spike, and then she raises a brow at me. This isn't a conversation I want to have, but there's no getting around it. Except...I touch Spike's knee and he glances at me. He seems conflicted, and I watch the play of emotions across his face. Confusion. Pain. Sadnes. Anger. Guilt. And...fear, which flashes by so fast that I almost miss it.
"Tell her," he says, turning his attention back to his mug.
"Sit down," I say to Faith, still watching Spike. I hear her moving around, taking a chair and setting it where Olson and Josh were earlier in the evening. I set my hand on Spike's thigh and keep it there as I finally look at her. "Spike has a soul."
She does a fair impression of a fish. "A *soul*?" she repeats, stunned. I nod. "Like Angel?"
The muscles under my hand tense. My "no" is emphatic enough to cause them to relax. "It's not a curse. It's just...his soul," I explain.
She leans back on the dining chair and shakes her head. "Shit. I mean, shit. That's fucking--well, weird. How the hell did that happen?" I wait two beats and watch the answer come to her. "Oh. Yeah. Never mind," she mumbles. She's quiet for a couple of seconds and then grunts a little. "Guess the why is Dawn."
"Mm. He's going to, uh, stay here. For now," I inform her.
Her head tilts to the side and her eyes narrow into dangerous slits. The gears are turning in her mind, and just once I wish she really were as dumb as she thinks she is. "Give me a minute," she snaps angrily. "I'm trying to figure out just how many times you lied to us."
I meet her eyes dead on. I feel bad that I didn't tell them, but I'm not sorry and I would do it again. "Lied? None. Omitted? A lot," I say calmly. "I owed Spike a secret."
"That's so sweet I think I'm getting a cavity," she drawls caustically. "What about what you owe us?" Her face closes down, something mean sliding into her eyes. "What about what you owe Dawn? How many times did she call you, crying about Blondie?"
There's a noise from Spike, and I know that cut him. Deeply. I glare at Faith and, I'm not sure, but I think it might be the first time I've done so. "This isn't about Dawn," I say sharply.
Her eyes are glued to mine as she stands up in that graceful, animal way of hers and stalks to me. Spike tenses when her hand snakes out to grab at my wrist. At my bitten wrist. Oh. I forgot about that. Her grip is just this side of painful as she holds it up and stares at the band-aids.
"Interesting," she sing-songs, her eyes cutting to Spike. My other hand is still on his thigh and his muscles are quivering. I want to look at him to see what's on his face, but I think it's really important not to break Faith's gaze right now. "What, you owed him some blood, too?"
Her hand tightens a small bit, and I wince, which has Spike growling and Faith letting go of me. What is has me doing is getting to my feet. Faith is so very close to the sofa that she has to take a step back to give me room to stand. "I don't owe you explanations, Faith," I say quietly. "I choose to give them to you most of the time, but not for this."
She jerks like I've slapped her, blinks several times and clenches her fists. Then she's suddenly a different Faith--and there are so many of her that it's hard to keep track of. I see the tiny smile, the diffident eyes, and I know this is the one with the back that everything slides off of, that one nothing can touch. She takes a step back and I wait for the expected words. She doesn't disappoint. "I'm going out on patrol."
My teeth make a dull clicking noise as I snap together to prevent myself from saying anything. She's at the door with her jacket back on before I trust myself to speak again, and I catch her with her hand on the doorknob.
"We need blood."
She stiffens, and from behind her nod looks a little tense, but her voice is so very casual that I have to take a deep breath to stay calm. "I'll hit Willie's on my way back. No problem."
After she's gone, Spike's hand is on my chin, turning my face away from the door to him. He scrutinizes me, questions sliding in and out of his gaze. "Didn't mean to cause you trouble," he says quietly.
I take his hand in mine and shake my head. "It's not you." I shake my head again. "I need to call Olson and see what they found out. Do you want to get some sleep?"
He nods, a bit reluctantly. "I'm exhausted," he admits.
"You can use my room," I offer. "I'll take the couch tonight."
There's an impatient noise. "I'm not putting you out of your bed."
Apparently, a compromise is in order. "I'll wake you and have you come downstairs when I go to bed. Okay?"
His look is filled with suspicion. I smile innocently and he snorts, but nods anyway. I know better than to think I can *really* outmaneuver Spike; he'll let me think I'm winning, but I know he's got a countermove planned. "Put the clothes outside the door if you have to, but don't go to that laundry room," he instructs me on his way upstairs.
I call Olson from the house phone, and he greets me like I'm Faith. "Um, it's me, actually," I interrupt him.
"Tara? You're back rather quickly," he says cautiously. "Is everything all right?"
"Spike's a little...beat up, but I got him some blood, brought him home, and he's resting now. Faith is kind of a different story," I add in a frustrated murmur.
"I would imagine so," he says obliquely, and I'm not sure why he would imagine that. "Did she tell you what we found?"
"No, she didn't get a chance."
He fills me in as I bring Spike's empty mug into the kitchen and take Faith's food out of the microwave. "Faith got some information from Willie earlier. The vampires you two encountered in the cemetery aren't local. They're the second bunch that's shown up, and Faith thinks she took out the other group a few nights ago. Something Willie mentioned about a Mohawk."
I remember the Mohawk, because Faith actually woke me up when she got in from patrol so that she could laugh with someone about it. A Mohawk in this decade. If I wasn't so frustrated, I'd laugh about it again.
"What are they after? And how can they just...poof, appear."
"The what is the usual," Olson drawls. Hm. Control of the Hellmouth. Not very original. "The how is a little more alarming. A few of Willie's customers told him that whoever they're working for is providing their unique form of transportation." He makes a noise. "Of course, no one seems to know who or what they're working for."
"Do you need help with the research?"
"There's no way to narrow down the method they're using. Josh pulled everything we had on manifestations so that we have it on hand in case we get some details. Until then, all we can do is wait."
I've seen Faith get information at Willie's. It's not pretty, and it generally doesn't invite others to step forward with anything of their own. "Spike has contacts here," I remind Olson. "I'll ask him to check with them."
"Thank you. Get some sleep. Josh and I will come over in the afternoon."
I'm about to ask why they'll be coming over, then I remember that Spike's here. "All right. Good night."
I should probably be a little too stressed to sleep. But, it's about four thirty in the morning at this point, and I've been up since about nine yesterday. I can definitely sleep. My pajamas are upstairs, so are the spare blankets. I make do without and lie on the couch, leaving the tree on, and I fall asleep pretty darn fast.
***
I'm confused to wake up in my own bed, but not for very long. I'd known I wouldn't get my way in giving Spike my room. A knock on the door is what woke me, and I sit up in bed and call out a bleary, "Come in."
The clock on the bedside table says it's nine thirty. I really could have used a lot more sleep, but I'll at least be able to function. Josh steps into my room, looking much like I do. "Hey, we need you to wake Faith up for us," he tells me.
"She's not awake?" I ask with surprise. Not that she's usually awake during the day, but how did-- "Spike let you in."
"What the hell happened to him, by the way?" Josh asks tightly. "He looks like shit."
So maybe Faith isn't the only bad influence I'm exposed to. "I didn't get a chance to ask him yet." I slide my legs off the bed and get to my feet. "I was a little more concerned with getting him fed and convincing him to come home."
"So I heard." His eyes flicker to my wrist and I glance down automatically. Bubbles got a little scrunched up while I slept. "Faith stormed our place right after Eric talked to you. She was more than a little pissed."
"Hm," I murmur. I don't like sleeping in my clothes; it always feels like I've simply taken a nap, and it's always so hard to wake up. I try to get my brain online. Faith is mad. Okay, I knew that. Spike is awake, but still looking poorly. "Did Faith get blood?"
A strange smile tilts his lips up. "Yes, she did, and yes, Spike drank some already. Now, go wake her up."
I arch a brow. Normally, I'm volunteered to wake her up because she generally goes easier on me. But, I doubt I'll be privy to any special behavior at the moment. "Did she tell you anything about what's going on with Spike? Did he?" Josh shakes his head and I go to my closet and pull out some clothes. Josh is watching me expectantly and I sigh. "You should wake her up."
His eyes widen a little, but he nods. "Guess we've got quite a story coming to us."
I shrug a little. "I need to take a shower. You can, uh, let her sleep a little longer."
"Hey, Tara?" I glance up at him and he's got an unusually serious look on his face. "I'm not going to lie--it's taking effort not to freak out a la our dear Slayer." Oh. The bite. I should maybe have considered all of this before implementing my plan--something occurs to me and I can feel my face tighten.
"Didn't mean to tick you off, sweetie," Josh quickly assures me. "Seriously. We trust you, and if you felt safe doing it, then bully for you."
"It's not you," I say lowly for the second time in far too few hours. I force a smile. "Thank you. I know it's, uh, ooky. For me, too. But, Josh? He didn't ask, and he didn't want to. I had to force him."
"Well that's reassuring," he says sincerely.
"But still ooky," I state, and he nods his agreement.
"And makes me wonder just what kind of kinks you're hiding under that innocent little exterior."
I smile and walk past him and out of the room.
***
When I go downstairs, I bring one of the chairs that go with the dining set. A leaf is all well and good, but is rather pointless without a chair. There isn't much storage space in the apartment, so the chair has been sitting, unused, in a corner of my room.
Olson steps forward to take the chair, and I smile gratefully. "Can you put the leaf in?" I ask hopefully, and he nods, though he looks confused. He probably doesn't understand why I want the leaf in now. Maybe he'll get it. Or not.
Spike is standing on the sidelines of the room, and his jaw is clenched. He's close to furious right now. Faith is sprawled on the couch looking barely awake and very irritated. Josh seems to be hiding in the kitchen, but when I catch sight of his face, it's obvious that he's also angry and is trying to calm down. Waking Faith is never fun.
No one says anything while Olson grapples with the leaf he took out of the coat closet. Once it's in place, I sit at the table and clear my throat. "Um, come sit," I say to the room at large.
Olson sits down immediately, and Josh flounces out of the kitchen and sits next to him. Faith snorts and stays where she is. Spike ignores me and stays where he is. I repeat what will likely be my mantra over the next few days: one problem at a time.
"Spike?" I say hesitantly and he looks at me. "Please?"
His face tightens, but he crosses the room and sits at the end of the table. I'd try the same thing with Faith, but I know it won't work, and will just lead to an argument. Especially since I'm not all that unangry myself.
"Do--do you want to tell them?" I ask Spike.
He starts to shake his head, then changes his mind. "Guess I might as well," he says indifferently. He looks from Olson to Josh, then shrugs. "Got a little prezzie from Khentimentiu."
"What kind of prezzie?" Josh asks curiously, his eyes raking over Spike. "A sound thrashing?"
"No. A soul."
"Damn," Josh breathes. His eyes look over Spike again, like he's trying to see some external evidence of the soul.
Olson has gotten a Watcher gleam in his eyes. I can see the questions gathering and I clear my throat. "I told Spike he can stay here as long as he needs to."
"You're not back for good?" Olson asks with some surprise. "Why not?" Spike shrugs and looks down at the tabletop. I shake my head once at Olson, and he settles back in his seat, nodding slightly. "Fair enough."
"You haven't heard the best part," Faith adds.
Josh and Olson blink at the sound of her voice, then I see the same thing dawn on them that dawned on me upstairs. Faith went running over to tell them about Spike biting me, but didn't tell them about him getting a soul. Was she trying to get them to stake Spike? Probably not. Was she trying to cause trouble? Definitely.
Change is kind of easy for Faith to accept, mainly because she's had so much of it. But relationships aren't so easy for her to accept or understand or deal with. With Spike coming back, she thinks things are going to change between her and him and between her and me. And she blames that all on what's between me and Spike. She reacted without thinking. Which is what she always does.
I do another headshake at Josh and Olson. They nod reluctantly and don't call her on the carpet. Which is a good thing. Because, landmines and all. If we started in on her now, she'd feel like she was being ganged up on, and things would just go from bad to worse. Also, Spike doesn't really need all that drama right now. I think he's probably had enough lately.
"What she means is that I, um, knew. About the soul," I admit quietly.
I'm suddenly feeling really bad that I didn't tell them everything I knew about Spike. No, that's not right. I feel bad that I didn't say that I knew more but that I couldn't tell them. Maybe that's what I should have done, rather than keep everything a secret.
Surprise and shock seem to be the order of the day. At least for Josh. Olson just raises a chiding brow.
"Look," Spike said suddenly. "I may not have asked her not to say anything, but I would have. Wasn't anyone's business but *mine*." His eyes go to Faith and she stiffens. "As for the bite," he adds testily, "Tara has a history of losing her mind." He glares at me and I shift uncomfortably when he points angrily at me. "Don't *ever* try that again, pet. Three strikes and you're out, and all that rot."
I tried to get him to drink from me one other time. During that summer, when he was the walking wounded and refusing to do anything about it. I cut myself open, so the chip wasn't an issue. He didn't have a soul then, either. But he refused me.
"Don't give me a reason to," I say, and I decide that I'm definitely stubborn. Or still very crazy.
"Don't worry," Josh says to Spike slowly. He's frowning, and I think he's still trying to process it all. "We're not going to throw a tantrum that she didn't tell us."
Josh hasn't had the ideal life. Not that anyone does anymore, but I think his was less ideal than most. He's only mentioned it in passing, and with a great deal of flippancy, but I'm sure he's told Olson everything. And Olson hasn't told Faith or me. I guess he knows about how some things take a while before they're ready to come out.
"There are things a man has to do on his own," Olson murmurs, his eyes understanding. "We're glad to see you, no matter what we did or didn't know."
Olson doesn't fawn over people. When he says something it's generally understated, but sincere. Spike gives him a smile that's grateful and a little confused. I think that might become the standard look for him over the next few days.
Josh and Olson--and Faith, normally--are really loyal, and they've all done things they're less than proud of. Spike proved himself to them before the soul, and hopefully he's starting to realize that nothing has changed for them. Me, well, obviously I'm highly biased in Spike's favor no matter what. Tends to happen when someone helps you regain your sanity.
Josh shrugs, a wide grin on his face. "Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way," he says easily, "let's get down to business. Allow me to sum up the results of our research: crapolla." He looks cheerfully around the room. "Who's next?"
I chuckle and get to my feet. "Um, fill Spike in. I need to run an errand."
Actually, I need to pick up one of Dawn's Christmas gifts. It had to be ordered and the store called me yesterday to let me know it was in. But after Spike's reaction when Dawn came up last night, I'm choosing not to announce the errand. I walk to Faith and look down at her. "Come with?" She shakes her head and I fold my arms across my chest. " Come with."
She sighs and stands up. "Let me get changed," she grumbles, and stalks upstairs.
Josh stops in the middle of telling Spike about the magically appearing vampires. "Are you going to let her get away with that shit?" he asks angrily. "Because you really shouldn't, Ta."
"I'll take care of it," I murmur, tucking my hair behind my ears.
"I suggest an immobilization spell and a baseball bat," he snorts, and I frown at him. His face gets serious. "She didn't say you fed him, she said that he bit you. She said it that way to incite us. I just can't believe she did that."
I can, actually, and if the hard glint in Spike's eyes is anything to go by, he can believe it, too.
Olson frowns thoughtfully. "We'll let you handle it, Tara, but call in reinforcements if you need them."
"What crawled up her arse, anyway?" Spike asks bluntly.
Neither Josh nor Olson answer, proving that they know about keeping secrets. But in all honesty, Spike doesn't actually need an answer to that question. I think he's trying to find out if we know the answer. We do, but there's no need to discuss it. It's kind of like talking behind someone's back, and Faith--recent stunt aside--doesn't deserve that.
"Are you two going to hang out here?" I ask instead of answering Spike's question.
"I thought we might," Olson says with a shrug.
Josh grins cheekily at me. "Yes, mom, we'll stay here and watch over the injured one. Get him all strong and healthy again. Because you will make us feel guilty for weeks unless we do."
Olson scowls at his lover. "Stop being irritating, Josh."
"I don't think he can help it," I comment, and smile when Josh gives me the finger.
Faith comes stomping down the steps then, clothed in armor made out of black denim and red lipstick so dark that it almost looks black. "Ready when you are."
We leave, with me reminding Spike to eat, much to Josh's scoffing amusement. I'm secure in my ways, however, so I ignore him and follow Faith to the car. She digs through her pockets and curses, ready to go back to the house, but I hold up the keys I snagged on the way out. We keep them on this clever little hook thing that's on the wall next to the door.
"I'll drive," I say and get behind the wheel. Faith is annoyed, but gets in the passenger seat. She likes to do the driving, which is why I've usurped the duty today. I need her to be a little out of her element to get through to her.
I let the silence drag on for ten minutes before I speak. "Spike helped you here for months, and you stood up for him to Giles. I didn't hear all of what you said," I acknowledge. "I was kind of making a sneaky getaway at the time. But I heard enough."
"What's your point, Tara?" she asks cynically. "That I should ignore the fact that he chomped on you? Fuck that."
"My point is that he's helped all of us," I say firmly, and what *I* choose to ignore is the fact that her attitude started before she even noticed the bite. It's a cop out excuse, and we both know it. "Even if his reasons weren't...well, completely selfless all of the time."
I stop the car at a red light and look at her. Her jaw is clenched and she's staring out the windshield. "And now he needs our help. If you don't want to help him, then don't." I take my foot off the brake and step on the gas. "But I will be helping him, and I won't let you interfere with that."
I can see her shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't mean--"
"I know you didn't," I sigh. "I know. I just--there's a lot going on right now, Faith. I need you to not be something that's going on. Because this is going to be really hard for me."
"What, having Spike back is hard?" she asks, sounding surprised.
I pull into the parking lot of the large chain electronics store and turn off the engine. I slide my seatbelt off and look at Faith, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "It's...great to see him," I start. "I've really missed him." I fiddle with the material of my skirt, ducking my head down. "I kind of dealt with a lot of things. But not all of them. He brings reminders, you know?"
"Maybe you should take a trip to White's," Faith suggests awkwardly.
"White" is Dr. Christopher White. He's a psychologist, and he's not as ignorant of things in Sunnydale as most. I think Olson had something to do with clueing him in, but I'm not sure of any details. I just know that Olson is the one who gave me Dr. White's number, and that I've been able to talk freely to him. I used to see him twice a week, then just once a week. Nowadays it's every two weeks. I might just have to pop in for an off schedule visit.
Because I'm not lying to Faith. I'm not even exaggerating about what seeing Spike brings up. I know I can deal with them; that's not the point. If I learned anything through the mess with the Cerno, it's that everything passes. But I'd rather not have to worry about Faith on top of all that, or deal with her not-dealing behavior.
"I'll probably give him a call," I say lowly. "If you could be...someone I can relax around, it would mean a lot to me." I frown. "Did that make sense?"
"Yeah," she says gruffly. "I didn't mean to act like mega bitch. But, him only telling you, and you not telling the rest of us.... I understand, I guess. But it still surprised me."
I look up at her and she has this open, soft look on her face. When she gets into her moods, it's kind of hard to remember that she's really this unsure, insecure girl beneath the exterior. So very sensitive to things, and so very easily thrown off kilter. It didn't surprise her; it hurt her. I touch her cheek and smile.
"Spike didn't tell me." She frowns in confusion. "Khentimentiu did. I don't, um, I don't think Spike would ever have. Told me. Or anyone."
"Oh," Faith says, confused and a little concerned. Finally, the concern. It gives me hope that she'll go back to thinking before acting.
"Let's go," I say and open the door. "I want to get in there before the holiday shoppers descend."
***
Faith and I pick up Dawn's gift, then go to the post office so that I can overnight it to Dawn in Los Angeles. Then we go to lunch, and I'm relieved to see that she's back to herself. I think she'll probably be a mixture of herself and the, uh, mega bitch around Spike, but she's trying. That means a lot, especially coming from her.
By the time we get back to the apartment, it's almost five. Faith's expression tightens a little when we get inside, but she nods civilly to Spike and I relax a little.
"We miss anything?" she asks while I hang up our coats.
"You missed Josh filling Spike in on every second that's transpired since he left," Olson says irritably. "I swear he's got a photographic memory, and no compunction about boring everyone in hearing distance, sometimes."
I look around, but only Olson and Spike are in the living room. They're sitting on the sofa, two mugs on the coffee table in front of them. "Where is he?"
"Went out to get the clothes I left here," Spike answers.
We put all of the stuff that Spike left behind in the storage area in Olson and Josh's apartment building. There's no place to keep it here, and I kind of needed the bedroom since I didn't have anywhere else to stay. I head into the kitchen to put away the blood that Faith and I got at Willie's. Spike follows me.
"Everything all right?" he asks cautiously.
"Mm. How are you feeling? You look better. A lot better."
The bruising is almost gone, and the limp is a lot less pronounced than it was earlier. Unfortunately, the gash at his stomach is healing a lot more slowly. Probably because it was deeper than I'd originally thought. Maybe I should have stitched it...
Spike shrugs. "Coming along. The lovers brought me up to date. I should be able to talk to some of my connections come sunset."
"Only if you feel up to it," I tell him, frowning. "I didn't ask you here to--"
His hand is over my mouth, and he's smiling down at me. "Be quiet," he says without fervor. "First? You didn't ask me here. You damn well guilted me into coming." I widen my eyes innocently and he snickers. "Second? It's all right. Truth be told, I'm probably better off here than where I was. Don't think it's the permanent solution, but it'll do for now."
He takes his hand away and I catch it in mine. His eyes seem a little more focused now, like maybe he's just staring down at the hand around his throat and wondering what the heck it's trying to accomplish by choking him. "If you need...anything?" I start to say, but he cuts me off again, this time by leaning down and kissing my forehead.
"Thanks, pet." He settles a hand in my hair. I'm still holding the other one. His lips curl up in a smile that's more than a little rueful. "I did miss you, you know. Wanted to call, like I promised I would, but didn't know what I'd say. Hated that you were probably worried I was dust."
"It's all right," I hurry to assure him. "One day? I kind of woke up in the middle of the night." He frowns down at me. "I couldn't figure out why, so I looked around the room. I saw Khentimentiu, Spike. In my mirror." He's still frowning and I squeeze his hand. "That was six days after you left." His eyes widen when he realizes that's when he got his soul. "I don't know why he let me know when it happened, but he did. I guess I figured he'd let me know if you were dust."
"Seems like you made an impression on the wanker," he says wonderingly, shaking his head. "For him to be reassuring you."
Actually, I think it was Spike who made the impression, but it's another thing he and I will never agree on.
I hear Josh come in. His greeting to Faith is cautious at best, and he pops his head into the kitchen a minute later, tossing a small bag at Spike. "Here you go. Get a shirt on before I'm overcome by your hotness," he drawls, brown eyes twinkling.
Spike raises a droll brow and heads out of the kitchen. Josh catches my eyes with his and I smile reassuringly at him, so that he knows the Faith situation has been handled for the moment. He grins, and then his lips slide into a pout.
"I'm hungry, Ta. Are you hungry, Eric?" he calls out, and Olson replies in the affirmative, Faiths' voice joining his. I'm not hungry. In fact, I'm a little shocked Faith is, considering how much she ate at lunch. The girl's got a bottomless stomach.
I wave my hand and smile indulgently. "Shoo. I'll put something together."
I'm in the process of putting some leftovers in the oven when Spike walks over to the cut-out. I glance up and see that he's changed into a faded pair of black jeans, and a dark red t-shirt. "Gonna head out," he says, motioning to the door. I always forget that the sun sets so early during winter.
I close the oven and nod as I remove the oven mitt from my right hand. "Do you want one of us to go? With you?" I propose, and it took a lot not to bring up his injuries and insist someone go. He's a grown vampire, so he knows his limits. Trouble is, I really am a mother hen, and I want nothing more than to settle him on the sofa and fuss over him. But coddling is what had me staying in a mental hospital even though I didn't need to be there anymore. I'm really exhausting my tough love stores.
"Don't think there's a need," he says blandly, lips twisting in a way that lets me know he's fully aware that I'm worried. "Been keeping a low profile," he goes on. "Unlikely anyone knows about the soul, so they won't be starting trouble. And the visible stuff's healed."
I bite my lip and manage not to vocalize any fussing about what's not visible. It's still evident on my face, I'm sure, but I can only go so far against my nature, after all.
"All right. Oh! Take your phone."
I scoot out of the kitchen and get the cell phone Marianna used from the table next to the door. "My phone?" Spike asks with surprise.
"Yeah, we've all got one," Faith snickers from her position at the table. "It's a *family* plan. Enough to make me heave."
"Seconded," Josh chimes in, all cynical and jaded; a perfect reflection of the Slayer directly across from him. "Tara was all giddy and fawning when she handed out the phones."
My head ducks almost instinctively. I hate when he talks about things I do like they're ridiculous and sappy. Um, all right, so they are. But he really doesn't have to say it like he thinks I'm a moron for doing them.
"That so?" Spike asks archly. He looks around the room, pointedly staring at the gaudy decorations. "And you two aren't responsible for this, then? Being all above pansy ass sentimentality, as it were."
They're squirming and awkward in the face of Spike's reminder of just how sentimental they can be. I bring the phone over to Spike, and he takes it from me, staring at Josh and Faith like he's trying to drill something into them with his eyes. He absently moves my hair behind my ear. "Don't hide yourself, pet," he says flatly.
With a last glance at the pair sitting at the table--and it looks almost like a warning--he strides out of the apartment.
"I trust you've both been firmly put in your place?" Olson says sedately. He's sitting on the couch, looking more than a little amused.
"Shut up," Faith mumbles, irritation dripping from her words.
Not sure of what, if anything, I should say, I slip out of the room for the safety of the kitchen. I guess like any family we have our faults and sore spots, which seem to line up in such a way as to constantly come into contact.
"You're the squishy center, Ta," Josh says. I turn away from the stove and see that he's leaning over the partition, a rueful grin on his face. "The Tootsie Roll Center of our Tootsie Roll Pop. We know this, we love this, but we must mock this because it's our nature."
This is very true. They're a mocking trio. Scoffing, even. But they've helped me out in dozens of ways since I moved back, saved my life more times than that, and even when all the spots are lining up in ways that just assure there will be fighting, I've never doubted that they care about me.
"Twinkling," I say matter-of-factly. Josh raises his eyebrows. "If your eyes were, um, twinkling? When you mocked? Then it would be more like...teasing. Friendly teasing."
"I think I can twinkle," he says immediately, his eyes soft. "Because, really, a Tootsie Roll Pop without a Tootsie Roll Center is just a sucker. And I may suck, but I'm not a sucker."
With that, he slinks back to his side of the partition, leaving me giggling as I take the vegetables off the burner. I think about the events of the day and decide it's been rather good, all things considered. Spike seems to be willing to let the latest Hellmouth problem distract him, which might help him sort things out. Faith is Faith, which is better than Faith being one of the varieties of non-Faith she has stocked up. And Josh and Olson are their usual selves; bless them for not being issue-ridden at moment.
I know that whoever is currently after the Hellmouth isn't going to be easy to deal with. We're really about to have a rough patch. But it's nothing we haven't all been through before, and if anything, we perform our best in a crisis. Actually, we sometimes come out of the troubled times better than we were before.
In the meantime, there's a bottomless Slayer, a bitchy but sweet pretty boy, and an ornery Watcher to feed.
***
Getting home is simple enough. After going back to Spike's hovel, we get my bag and an armload of his less dirty clothes, and then I call Marianna. Just as she arrives, I punch in the code for Olson's cell, just to find out where everyone is. Well, more exactly, I want to know where everyone's not. They're a demanding group of people and I'd rather Spike was eased into them again.
It seems that they're pulling an all-nighter at the Magic Box, so I have Marianna bring us to the apartment. She hands me the phone back, and her eyes are shining with something a little hidden as she nods at me and Spike and then leaves.
"Bloody hell," Spike gasps. I turned my head and see that he's gaping at the gargantuan Christmas tree. We ran out of ornaments halfway through decorating it, and compensated with huge clumps of tinsel. "That's the gaudiest thing I've seen in a while," he says with horrified awe.
"Look behind you," I say sweetly. He actually shields his eyes when he sees the banister leading upstairs. There's about a thousand flashing lights, reams of shiny garland, and another metric ton of tinsel on the short banister. It makes me a little dizzy to look at head on. I love it.
"I stand corrected," Spike says dryly, smiling a little at me.
I move to the banister and turn the lights off in deference to his sensitive eyes and give him a little shrug. "I'd say we have about an hour before Faith ends up, uh, bailing on the research," I venture.
His eyes have fallen on the cardboard cut-out of a fireplace that we attached to the wall by the tree. Four stockings hang above it, each of them bearing a name in sloppy clumps of glitter. Clumping seems to be the holiday theme.
"What happened? Some holiday demon projectile vomit?"
My lips twitch and I take the bundle of clothes from him and deposit them by the door. No sense putting them elsewhere when I'm going to take them to the small laundry area in the complex as soon as I get a chance.
"No demon. Just Faith and Josh," I explain.
His eyes widen. "The hard ass Slayer, and the 'been there, done that, so over it' pretty boy?" he asks incredulously, and I have to laugh at the look on his face. "Hell. I've been gone longer than I thought if that's true."
I'm walking towards him when I come to a stop and blink. There's no duster. I'm a little surprised that I'm just noticing that fact. I glance at the pile of clothes and don't see it there either. My arms fall to my sides as I finally stop reaching out to take it from him. He turns away and a muscle at his cheek twitches.
Apparently, one minefield person in my life just wasn't enough.
"There are some clothes in the coat closet," I muse thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down. "Some things Josh and Olson have left. And there's plenty of towels in the bathroom."
He looks at me again, lips quirking seemingly against his will. "Saying I stink, pet?" he asks with amusement.
I smile and shrug. "I already said that. Just offering you a solution, now." I frown as I think about the wound on his abdomen. "And I don't think it's hygienic for your cuts."
"Should've known you'd be a mother hen," he mutters, sounding put-upon. But he rummages through the coat closet then makes his way into the bathroom.
While he's showering, I set a plate of food in the microwave for Faith to heat up when she gets in. Left to her own devices, she eats the leftovers cold, and straight form the container. Then I kind of stand at the counter for a moment, because I suddenly realize that there's no blood in the house. We used to keep some on hand just...just in case Spike came back out of the blue, but eventually it was just too much of a waste.
I remember that Dawn used to make hot chocolate for Spike, that summer. Not often, because she was usually watching movies and forgetting about life, but a few times. When Spike pads into the living room on bare feet, dressed in a pair of Olson's black, drawstring pants and no shirt, I'm taking a mug out of the microwave and replacing the plate of food.
Spike tosses his soiled clothing on top of the pile and takes the mug from me as I cross the living room.
"Thanks," he says softly, and his eyes are just so...wide. Like some kind of panoramic sky that goes on forever and I think that it's a good thing he didn't have a soul that summer, because I would have fallen into that soft, warm sky and never looked back. He sets the cup on the coffee table, and I see the small first aid kit in his other hand. "Let's see the wrist," he tells me as he pops it open.
He waves me to the sofa, and I sit, then shift to the side when he takes a seat next to me. He tears open an antiseptic wipe and takes my hand in his, then dabs at the bite. I wince at the stinging sensation, and decide it's kind of weird, how gentle he is. I mean, he's a vampire and he's really strong. I think that if I were a vampire, I'd forget my strength and break all sorts of things. Like people. And drinking glasses.
"When we take our trip?" I venture, watching him search through the small white case for some band-aids. "We're not allowed to require first aid."
"That so?" he says absently, pulling open a band-aid and then holding up the PowerPuff Girl bandage for inspection. He lifts both his brows as if asking for an explanation.
"I think they're cute," I say a little awkwardly. I don't tell him that while Willow thought of her little group as the Scoobies, I think this new group is more like the PowerPuff Girls. They say that in any group of three girls, there's the cute one, the smart one, and the...tough one. The PowerPuff Girls hold true to this formula, and so do we. Of course, Josh isn't a girl; he's a femme gay man and that's not even close to being a woman. But if I forget that tiny detail, it works.
Faith is, of course, Buttercup. Tough talking, bad-tempered, and eager to solve all problems with a little booty kicking. Faith and Buttercup also share the honor of having names that are, at first glance, a little too soft for how hard you think they are. But only at first glance.
I'm Bubbles. The cute one. Also, in high school? Well, let's just say that fourteen year-old boys tend to take notice when a classmate, um, develops...breasts that aren't small. I used to cry about the nickname, and I feel a little empowered to be reclaiming it. And, wow, that sounds a lot more militant than I really am.
Josh is Blossom, the smart one, even though he's not really our leader the way Blossom is the leader of the PowerPuff Girls. Hm, my little parallel gets more hole-ridden every time I consider it. That leaves Olson as Professor Utonium, which is rather fitting.
Spike taps me on the nose, a teasing look in his eyes, and I duck my head. I don't do the head ducking nearly as much as I used to, but it's still around. He uses two band-aids on the bite, and I notice that they're both Bubbles. I frown down at them. The band-aids aren't sorted in the tin, and he had to have sought them out. I raise my eyes, and he winks at me.
I lean back and Spike puts the first aid kit aside in favor of the cocoa. "So, you can stay with us," I tell him.
"Can't stay here forever," he says neutrally, resting the mug on his knee.
"I guess not, but it's as good a place as any to...settle."
His eyes fly to mine and we stare at each other for a moment. Spike looks away first. I go quiet then, because I know he's got to be steeling himself for Faith's arrival. She's not going to hold her questions the way I have.
Ten minutes later, as I'm staring at the tree and trying to figure out the pattern of the twinkling--I think there's a short, because one set is just really not blinking predictably--the apartment phone rings. Which strikes me as very strange, because really the only ones who call the apartment are Olson and Josh, and only if they can't get through to my or Faith's cell phones. Since they're all supposed to be together researching, I haven't the faintest idea who is calling.
"Hello?"
"Tara?" Faith exclaims, and then a dial tone sounds in me ear. A few seconds later, the front door is thrown open and she's strolling in with a frown. I realize she must have seen the lights on and wondered who was in the house. The frown shifts into a blinking stare of disbelief, then slides into an ill-tempered glare. I'm not really sure who the last is for, but I know it'll have my name written on it in a few minutes. I set the cordless phone on the base and go back to the couch.
"Well, fuck me," she says slowly, closing the door. Her eyes are on Spike, raking over his injuries. He nods at her, just once, and drinks some more cocoa. "A totally ass-kicked Spike. In my living room. And Christmas still a four days away."
Every time I think I've gotten a little better at figuring out Faith, she changes the rules all over again. Right now, I would have thought she'd be confused, maybe a little glad to see Spike, and curious beyond belief. Instead she already looks angry, and I haven't the faintest idea why. Or maybe I do. Maybe it has to do with the insecurities that got triggered earlier at the cemetery.
"Santa came early," I say easily, smiling at her. She shrugs, using the motion to shake her coat off. She hangs it on the handle of the coat closet. "Did you guys find anything out?"
"Yeah," she says absently, still staring at Spike. She grimaces suddenly. "What the *fuck* is that stench?." I point at the clothes and the grimace gets worse until she hurries away from the pile. "Well," she drawls flatly, her eyes drilling into first me, and then Spike. "Someone want to clue me in, here?"
"Been here and there," Spike answers blankly. "Now I'm here."
The glare is back, directed at Spike, and then she raises a brow at me. This isn't a conversation I want to have, but there's no getting around it. Except...I touch Spike's knee and he glances at me. He seems conflicted, and I watch the play of emotions across his face. Confusion. Pain. Sadnes. Anger. Guilt. And...fear, which flashes by so fast that I almost miss it.
"Tell her," he says, turning his attention back to his mug.
"Sit down," I say to Faith, still watching Spike. I hear her moving around, taking a chair and setting it where Olson and Josh were earlier in the evening. I set my hand on Spike's thigh and keep it there as I finally look at her. "Spike has a soul."
She does a fair impression of a fish. "A *soul*?" she repeats, stunned. I nod. "Like Angel?"
The muscles under my hand tense. My "no" is emphatic enough to cause them to relax. "It's not a curse. It's just...his soul," I explain.
She leans back on the dining chair and shakes her head. "Shit. I mean, shit. That's fucking--well, weird. How the hell did that happen?" I wait two beats and watch the answer come to her. "Oh. Yeah. Never mind," she mumbles. She's quiet for a couple of seconds and then grunts a little. "Guess the why is Dawn."
"Mm. He's going to, uh, stay here. For now," I inform her.
Her head tilts to the side and her eyes narrow into dangerous slits. The gears are turning in her mind, and just once I wish she really were as dumb as she thinks she is. "Give me a minute," she snaps angrily. "I'm trying to figure out just how many times you lied to us."
I meet her eyes dead on. I feel bad that I didn't tell them, but I'm not sorry and I would do it again. "Lied? None. Omitted? A lot," I say calmly. "I owed Spike a secret."
"That's so sweet I think I'm getting a cavity," she drawls caustically. "What about what you owe us?" Her face closes down, something mean sliding into her eyes. "What about what you owe Dawn? How many times did she call you, crying about Blondie?"
There's a noise from Spike, and I know that cut him. Deeply. I glare at Faith and, I'm not sure, but I think it might be the first time I've done so. "This isn't about Dawn," I say sharply.
Her eyes are glued to mine as she stands up in that graceful, animal way of hers and stalks to me. Spike tenses when her hand snakes out to grab at my wrist. At my bitten wrist. Oh. I forgot about that. Her grip is just this side of painful as she holds it up and stares at the band-aids.
"Interesting," she sing-songs, her eyes cutting to Spike. My other hand is still on his thigh and his muscles are quivering. I want to look at him to see what's on his face, but I think it's really important not to break Faith's gaze right now. "What, you owed him some blood, too?"
Her hand tightens a small bit, and I wince, which has Spike growling and Faith letting go of me. What is has me doing is getting to my feet. Faith is so very close to the sofa that she has to take a step back to give me room to stand. "I don't owe you explanations, Faith," I say quietly. "I choose to give them to you most of the time, but not for this."
She jerks like I've slapped her, blinks several times and clenches her fists. Then she's suddenly a different Faith--and there are so many of her that it's hard to keep track of. I see the tiny smile, the diffident eyes, and I know this is the one with the back that everything slides off of, that one nothing can touch. She takes a step back and I wait for the expected words. She doesn't disappoint. "I'm going out on patrol."
My teeth make a dull clicking noise as I snap together to prevent myself from saying anything. She's at the door with her jacket back on before I trust myself to speak again, and I catch her with her hand on the doorknob.
"We need blood."
She stiffens, and from behind her nod looks a little tense, but her voice is so very casual that I have to take a deep breath to stay calm. "I'll hit Willie's on my way back. No problem."
After she's gone, Spike's hand is on my chin, turning my face away from the door to him. He scrutinizes me, questions sliding in and out of his gaze. "Didn't mean to cause you trouble," he says quietly.
I take his hand in mine and shake my head. "It's not you." I shake my head again. "I need to call Olson and see what they found out. Do you want to get some sleep?"
He nods, a bit reluctantly. "I'm exhausted," he admits.
"You can use my room," I offer. "I'll take the couch tonight."
There's an impatient noise. "I'm not putting you out of your bed."
Apparently, a compromise is in order. "I'll wake you and have you come downstairs when I go to bed. Okay?"
His look is filled with suspicion. I smile innocently and he snorts, but nods anyway. I know better than to think I can *really* outmaneuver Spike; he'll let me think I'm winning, but I know he's got a countermove planned. "Put the clothes outside the door if you have to, but don't go to that laundry room," he instructs me on his way upstairs.
I call Olson from the house phone, and he greets me like I'm Faith. "Um, it's me, actually," I interrupt him.
"Tara? You're back rather quickly," he says cautiously. "Is everything all right?"
"Spike's a little...beat up, but I got him some blood, brought him home, and he's resting now. Faith is kind of a different story," I add in a frustrated murmur.
"I would imagine so," he says obliquely, and I'm not sure why he would imagine that. "Did she tell you what we found?"
"No, she didn't get a chance."
He fills me in as I bring Spike's empty mug into the kitchen and take Faith's food out of the microwave. "Faith got some information from Willie earlier. The vampires you two encountered in the cemetery aren't local. They're the second bunch that's shown up, and Faith thinks she took out the other group a few nights ago. Something Willie mentioned about a Mohawk."
I remember the Mohawk, because Faith actually woke me up when she got in from patrol so that she could laugh with someone about it. A Mohawk in this decade. If I wasn't so frustrated, I'd laugh about it again.
"What are they after? And how can they just...poof, appear."
"The what is the usual," Olson drawls. Hm. Control of the Hellmouth. Not very original. "The how is a little more alarming. A few of Willie's customers told him that whoever they're working for is providing their unique form of transportation." He makes a noise. "Of course, no one seems to know who or what they're working for."
"Do you need help with the research?"
"There's no way to narrow down the method they're using. Josh pulled everything we had on manifestations so that we have it on hand in case we get some details. Until then, all we can do is wait."
I've seen Faith get information at Willie's. It's not pretty, and it generally doesn't invite others to step forward with anything of their own. "Spike has contacts here," I remind Olson. "I'll ask him to check with them."
"Thank you. Get some sleep. Josh and I will come over in the afternoon."
I'm about to ask why they'll be coming over, then I remember that Spike's here. "All right. Good night."
I should probably be a little too stressed to sleep. But, it's about four thirty in the morning at this point, and I've been up since about nine yesterday. I can definitely sleep. My pajamas are upstairs, so are the spare blankets. I make do without and lie on the couch, leaving the tree on, and I fall asleep pretty darn fast.
***
I'm confused to wake up in my own bed, but not for very long. I'd known I wouldn't get my way in giving Spike my room. A knock on the door is what woke me, and I sit up in bed and call out a bleary, "Come in."
The clock on the bedside table says it's nine thirty. I really could have used a lot more sleep, but I'll at least be able to function. Josh steps into my room, looking much like I do. "Hey, we need you to wake Faith up for us," he tells me.
"She's not awake?" I ask with surprise. Not that she's usually awake during the day, but how did-- "Spike let you in."
"What the hell happened to him, by the way?" Josh asks tightly. "He looks like shit."
So maybe Faith isn't the only bad influence I'm exposed to. "I didn't get a chance to ask him yet." I slide my legs off the bed and get to my feet. "I was a little more concerned with getting him fed and convincing him to come home."
"So I heard." His eyes flicker to my wrist and I glance down automatically. Bubbles got a little scrunched up while I slept. "Faith stormed our place right after Eric talked to you. She was more than a little pissed."
"Hm," I murmur. I don't like sleeping in my clothes; it always feels like I've simply taken a nap, and it's always so hard to wake up. I try to get my brain online. Faith is mad. Okay, I knew that. Spike is awake, but still looking poorly. "Did Faith get blood?"
A strange smile tilts his lips up. "Yes, she did, and yes, Spike drank some already. Now, go wake her up."
I arch a brow. Normally, I'm volunteered to wake her up because she generally goes easier on me. But, I doubt I'll be privy to any special behavior at the moment. "Did she tell you anything about what's going on with Spike? Did he?" Josh shakes his head and I go to my closet and pull out some clothes. Josh is watching me expectantly and I sigh. "You should wake her up."
His eyes widen a little, but he nods. "Guess we've got quite a story coming to us."
I shrug a little. "I need to take a shower. You can, uh, let her sleep a little longer."
"Hey, Tara?" I glance up at him and he's got an unusually serious look on his face. "I'm not going to lie--it's taking effort not to freak out a la our dear Slayer." Oh. The bite. I should maybe have considered all of this before implementing my plan--something occurs to me and I can feel my face tighten.
"Didn't mean to tick you off, sweetie," Josh quickly assures me. "Seriously. We trust you, and if you felt safe doing it, then bully for you."
"It's not you," I say lowly for the second time in far too few hours. I force a smile. "Thank you. I know it's, uh, ooky. For me, too. But, Josh? He didn't ask, and he didn't want to. I had to force him."
"Well that's reassuring," he says sincerely.
"But still ooky," I state, and he nods his agreement.
"And makes me wonder just what kind of kinks you're hiding under that innocent little exterior."
I smile and walk past him and out of the room.
***
When I go downstairs, I bring one of the chairs that go with the dining set. A leaf is all well and good, but is rather pointless without a chair. There isn't much storage space in the apartment, so the chair has been sitting, unused, in a corner of my room.
Olson steps forward to take the chair, and I smile gratefully. "Can you put the leaf in?" I ask hopefully, and he nods, though he looks confused. He probably doesn't understand why I want the leaf in now. Maybe he'll get it. Or not.
Spike is standing on the sidelines of the room, and his jaw is clenched. He's close to furious right now. Faith is sprawled on the couch looking barely awake and very irritated. Josh seems to be hiding in the kitchen, but when I catch sight of his face, it's obvious that he's also angry and is trying to calm down. Waking Faith is never fun.
No one says anything while Olson grapples with the leaf he took out of the coat closet. Once it's in place, I sit at the table and clear my throat. "Um, come sit," I say to the room at large.
Olson sits down immediately, and Josh flounces out of the kitchen and sits next to him. Faith snorts and stays where she is. Spike ignores me and stays where he is. I repeat what will likely be my mantra over the next few days: one problem at a time.
"Spike?" I say hesitantly and he looks at me. "Please?"
His face tightens, but he crosses the room and sits at the end of the table. I'd try the same thing with Faith, but I know it won't work, and will just lead to an argument. Especially since I'm not all that unangry myself.
"Do--do you want to tell them?" I ask Spike.
He starts to shake his head, then changes his mind. "Guess I might as well," he says indifferently. He looks from Olson to Josh, then shrugs. "Got a little prezzie from Khentimentiu."
"What kind of prezzie?" Josh asks curiously, his eyes raking over Spike. "A sound thrashing?"
"No. A soul."
"Damn," Josh breathes. His eyes look over Spike again, like he's trying to see some external evidence of the soul.
Olson has gotten a Watcher gleam in his eyes. I can see the questions gathering and I clear my throat. "I told Spike he can stay here as long as he needs to."
"You're not back for good?" Olson asks with some surprise. "Why not?" Spike shrugs and looks down at the tabletop. I shake my head once at Olson, and he settles back in his seat, nodding slightly. "Fair enough."
"You haven't heard the best part," Faith adds.
Josh and Olson blink at the sound of her voice, then I see the same thing dawn on them that dawned on me upstairs. Faith went running over to tell them about Spike biting me, but didn't tell them about him getting a soul. Was she trying to get them to stake Spike? Probably not. Was she trying to cause trouble? Definitely.
Change is kind of easy for Faith to accept, mainly because she's had so much of it. But relationships aren't so easy for her to accept or understand or deal with. With Spike coming back, she thinks things are going to change between her and him and between her and me. And she blames that all on what's between me and Spike. She reacted without thinking. Which is what she always does.
I do another headshake at Josh and Olson. They nod reluctantly and don't call her on the carpet. Which is a good thing. Because, landmines and all. If we started in on her now, she'd feel like she was being ganged up on, and things would just go from bad to worse. Also, Spike doesn't really need all that drama right now. I think he's probably had enough lately.
"What she means is that I, um, knew. About the soul," I admit quietly.
I'm suddenly feeling really bad that I didn't tell them everything I knew about Spike. No, that's not right. I feel bad that I didn't say that I knew more but that I couldn't tell them. Maybe that's what I should have done, rather than keep everything a secret.
Surprise and shock seem to be the order of the day. At least for Josh. Olson just raises a chiding brow.
"Look," Spike said suddenly. "I may not have asked her not to say anything, but I would have. Wasn't anyone's business but *mine*." His eyes go to Faith and she stiffens. "As for the bite," he adds testily, "Tara has a history of losing her mind." He glares at me and I shift uncomfortably when he points angrily at me. "Don't *ever* try that again, pet. Three strikes and you're out, and all that rot."
I tried to get him to drink from me one other time. During that summer, when he was the walking wounded and refusing to do anything about it. I cut myself open, so the chip wasn't an issue. He didn't have a soul then, either. But he refused me.
"Don't give me a reason to," I say, and I decide that I'm definitely stubborn. Or still very crazy.
"Don't worry," Josh says to Spike slowly. He's frowning, and I think he's still trying to process it all. "We're not going to throw a tantrum that she didn't tell us."
Josh hasn't had the ideal life. Not that anyone does anymore, but I think his was less ideal than most. He's only mentioned it in passing, and with a great deal of flippancy, but I'm sure he's told Olson everything. And Olson hasn't told Faith or me. I guess he knows about how some things take a while before they're ready to come out.
"There are things a man has to do on his own," Olson murmurs, his eyes understanding. "We're glad to see you, no matter what we did or didn't know."
Olson doesn't fawn over people. When he says something it's generally understated, but sincere. Spike gives him a smile that's grateful and a little confused. I think that might become the standard look for him over the next few days.
Josh and Olson--and Faith, normally--are really loyal, and they've all done things they're less than proud of. Spike proved himself to them before the soul, and hopefully he's starting to realize that nothing has changed for them. Me, well, obviously I'm highly biased in Spike's favor no matter what. Tends to happen when someone helps you regain your sanity.
Josh shrugs, a wide grin on his face. "Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way," he says easily, "let's get down to business. Allow me to sum up the results of our research: crapolla." He looks cheerfully around the room. "Who's next?"
I chuckle and get to my feet. "Um, fill Spike in. I need to run an errand."
Actually, I need to pick up one of Dawn's Christmas gifts. It had to be ordered and the store called me yesterday to let me know it was in. But after Spike's reaction when Dawn came up last night, I'm choosing not to announce the errand. I walk to Faith and look down at her. "Come with?" She shakes her head and I fold my arms across my chest. " Come with."
She sighs and stands up. "Let me get changed," she grumbles, and stalks upstairs.
Josh stops in the middle of telling Spike about the magically appearing vampires. "Are you going to let her get away with that shit?" he asks angrily. "Because you really shouldn't, Ta."
"I'll take care of it," I murmur, tucking my hair behind my ears.
"I suggest an immobilization spell and a baseball bat," he snorts, and I frown at him. His face gets serious. "She didn't say you fed him, she said that he bit you. She said it that way to incite us. I just can't believe she did that."
I can, actually, and if the hard glint in Spike's eyes is anything to go by, he can believe it, too.
Olson frowns thoughtfully. "We'll let you handle it, Tara, but call in reinforcements if you need them."
"What crawled up her arse, anyway?" Spike asks bluntly.
Neither Josh nor Olson answer, proving that they know about keeping secrets. But in all honesty, Spike doesn't actually need an answer to that question. I think he's trying to find out if we know the answer. We do, but there's no need to discuss it. It's kind of like talking behind someone's back, and Faith--recent stunt aside--doesn't deserve that.
"Are you two going to hang out here?" I ask instead of answering Spike's question.
"I thought we might," Olson says with a shrug.
Josh grins cheekily at me. "Yes, mom, we'll stay here and watch over the injured one. Get him all strong and healthy again. Because you will make us feel guilty for weeks unless we do."
Olson scowls at his lover. "Stop being irritating, Josh."
"I don't think he can help it," I comment, and smile when Josh gives me the finger.
Faith comes stomping down the steps then, clothed in armor made out of black denim and red lipstick so dark that it almost looks black. "Ready when you are."
We leave, with me reminding Spike to eat, much to Josh's scoffing amusement. I'm secure in my ways, however, so I ignore him and follow Faith to the car. She digs through her pockets and curses, ready to go back to the house, but I hold up the keys I snagged on the way out. We keep them on this clever little hook thing that's on the wall next to the door.
"I'll drive," I say and get behind the wheel. Faith is annoyed, but gets in the passenger seat. She likes to do the driving, which is why I've usurped the duty today. I need her to be a little out of her element to get through to her.
I let the silence drag on for ten minutes before I speak. "Spike helped you here for months, and you stood up for him to Giles. I didn't hear all of what you said," I acknowledge. "I was kind of making a sneaky getaway at the time. But I heard enough."
"What's your point, Tara?" she asks cynically. "That I should ignore the fact that he chomped on you? Fuck that."
"My point is that he's helped all of us," I say firmly, and what *I* choose to ignore is the fact that her attitude started before she even noticed the bite. It's a cop out excuse, and we both know it. "Even if his reasons weren't...well, completely selfless all of the time."
I stop the car at a red light and look at her. Her jaw is clenched and she's staring out the windshield. "And now he needs our help. If you don't want to help him, then don't." I take my foot off the brake and step on the gas. "But I will be helping him, and I won't let you interfere with that."
I can see her shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't mean--"
"I know you didn't," I sigh. "I know. I just--there's a lot going on right now, Faith. I need you to not be something that's going on. Because this is going to be really hard for me."
"What, having Spike back is hard?" she asks, sounding surprised.
I pull into the parking lot of the large chain electronics store and turn off the engine. I slide my seatbelt off and look at Faith, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "It's...great to see him," I start. "I've really missed him." I fiddle with the material of my skirt, ducking my head down. "I kind of dealt with a lot of things. But not all of them. He brings reminders, you know?"
"Maybe you should take a trip to White's," Faith suggests awkwardly.
"White" is Dr. Christopher White. He's a psychologist, and he's not as ignorant of things in Sunnydale as most. I think Olson had something to do with clueing him in, but I'm not sure of any details. I just know that Olson is the one who gave me Dr. White's number, and that I've been able to talk freely to him. I used to see him twice a week, then just once a week. Nowadays it's every two weeks. I might just have to pop in for an off schedule visit.
Because I'm not lying to Faith. I'm not even exaggerating about what seeing Spike brings up. I know I can deal with them; that's not the point. If I learned anything through the mess with the Cerno, it's that everything passes. But I'd rather not have to worry about Faith on top of all that, or deal with her not-dealing behavior.
"I'll probably give him a call," I say lowly. "If you could be...someone I can relax around, it would mean a lot to me." I frown. "Did that make sense?"
"Yeah," she says gruffly. "I didn't mean to act like mega bitch. But, him only telling you, and you not telling the rest of us.... I understand, I guess. But it still surprised me."
I look up at her and she has this open, soft look on her face. When she gets into her moods, it's kind of hard to remember that she's really this unsure, insecure girl beneath the exterior. So very sensitive to things, and so very easily thrown off kilter. It didn't surprise her; it hurt her. I touch her cheek and smile.
"Spike didn't tell me." She frowns in confusion. "Khentimentiu did. I don't, um, I don't think Spike would ever have. Told me. Or anyone."
"Oh," Faith says, confused and a little concerned. Finally, the concern. It gives me hope that she'll go back to thinking before acting.
"Let's go," I say and open the door. "I want to get in there before the holiday shoppers descend."
***
Faith and I pick up Dawn's gift, then go to the post office so that I can overnight it to Dawn in Los Angeles. Then we go to lunch, and I'm relieved to see that she's back to herself. I think she'll probably be a mixture of herself and the, uh, mega bitch around Spike, but she's trying. That means a lot, especially coming from her.
By the time we get back to the apartment, it's almost five. Faith's expression tightens a little when we get inside, but she nods civilly to Spike and I relax a little.
"We miss anything?" she asks while I hang up our coats.
"You missed Josh filling Spike in on every second that's transpired since he left," Olson says irritably. "I swear he's got a photographic memory, and no compunction about boring everyone in hearing distance, sometimes."
I look around, but only Olson and Spike are in the living room. They're sitting on the sofa, two mugs on the coffee table in front of them. "Where is he?"
"Went out to get the clothes I left here," Spike answers.
We put all of the stuff that Spike left behind in the storage area in Olson and Josh's apartment building. There's no place to keep it here, and I kind of needed the bedroom since I didn't have anywhere else to stay. I head into the kitchen to put away the blood that Faith and I got at Willie's. Spike follows me.
"Everything all right?" he asks cautiously.
"Mm. How are you feeling? You look better. A lot better."
The bruising is almost gone, and the limp is a lot less pronounced than it was earlier. Unfortunately, the gash at his stomach is healing a lot more slowly. Probably because it was deeper than I'd originally thought. Maybe I should have stitched it...
Spike shrugs. "Coming along. The lovers brought me up to date. I should be able to talk to some of my connections come sunset."
"Only if you feel up to it," I tell him, frowning. "I didn't ask you here to--"
His hand is over my mouth, and he's smiling down at me. "Be quiet," he says without fervor. "First? You didn't ask me here. You damn well guilted me into coming." I widen my eyes innocently and he snickers. "Second? It's all right. Truth be told, I'm probably better off here than where I was. Don't think it's the permanent solution, but it'll do for now."
He takes his hand away and I catch it in mine. His eyes seem a little more focused now, like maybe he's just staring down at the hand around his throat and wondering what the heck it's trying to accomplish by choking him. "If you need...anything?" I start to say, but he cuts me off again, this time by leaning down and kissing my forehead.
"Thanks, pet." He settles a hand in my hair. I'm still holding the other one. His lips curl up in a smile that's more than a little rueful. "I did miss you, you know. Wanted to call, like I promised I would, but didn't know what I'd say. Hated that you were probably worried I was dust."
"It's all right," I hurry to assure him. "One day? I kind of woke up in the middle of the night." He frowns down at me. "I couldn't figure out why, so I looked around the room. I saw Khentimentiu, Spike. In my mirror." He's still frowning and I squeeze his hand. "That was six days after you left." His eyes widen when he realizes that's when he got his soul. "I don't know why he let me know when it happened, but he did. I guess I figured he'd let me know if you were dust."
"Seems like you made an impression on the wanker," he says wonderingly, shaking his head. "For him to be reassuring you."
Actually, I think it was Spike who made the impression, but it's another thing he and I will never agree on.
I hear Josh come in. His greeting to Faith is cautious at best, and he pops his head into the kitchen a minute later, tossing a small bag at Spike. "Here you go. Get a shirt on before I'm overcome by your hotness," he drawls, brown eyes twinkling.
Spike raises a droll brow and heads out of the kitchen. Josh catches my eyes with his and I smile reassuringly at him, so that he knows the Faith situation has been handled for the moment. He grins, and then his lips slide into a pout.
"I'm hungry, Ta. Are you hungry, Eric?" he calls out, and Olson replies in the affirmative, Faiths' voice joining his. I'm not hungry. In fact, I'm a little shocked Faith is, considering how much she ate at lunch. The girl's got a bottomless stomach.
I wave my hand and smile indulgently. "Shoo. I'll put something together."
I'm in the process of putting some leftovers in the oven when Spike walks over to the cut-out. I glance up and see that he's changed into a faded pair of black jeans, and a dark red t-shirt. "Gonna head out," he says, motioning to the door. I always forget that the sun sets so early during winter.
I close the oven and nod as I remove the oven mitt from my right hand. "Do you want one of us to go? With you?" I propose, and it took a lot not to bring up his injuries and insist someone go. He's a grown vampire, so he knows his limits. Trouble is, I really am a mother hen, and I want nothing more than to settle him on the sofa and fuss over him. But coddling is what had me staying in a mental hospital even though I didn't need to be there anymore. I'm really exhausting my tough love stores.
"Don't think there's a need," he says blandly, lips twisting in a way that lets me know he's fully aware that I'm worried. "Been keeping a low profile," he goes on. "Unlikely anyone knows about the soul, so they won't be starting trouble. And the visible stuff's healed."
I bite my lip and manage not to vocalize any fussing about what's not visible. It's still evident on my face, I'm sure, but I can only go so far against my nature, after all.
"All right. Oh! Take your phone."
I scoot out of the kitchen and get the cell phone Marianna used from the table next to the door. "My phone?" Spike asks with surprise.
"Yeah, we've all got one," Faith snickers from her position at the table. "It's a *family* plan. Enough to make me heave."
"Seconded," Josh chimes in, all cynical and jaded; a perfect reflection of the Slayer directly across from him. "Tara was all giddy and fawning when she handed out the phones."
My head ducks almost instinctively. I hate when he talks about things I do like they're ridiculous and sappy. Um, all right, so they are. But he really doesn't have to say it like he thinks I'm a moron for doing them.
"That so?" Spike asks archly. He looks around the room, pointedly staring at the gaudy decorations. "And you two aren't responsible for this, then? Being all above pansy ass sentimentality, as it were."
They're squirming and awkward in the face of Spike's reminder of just how sentimental they can be. I bring the phone over to Spike, and he takes it from me, staring at Josh and Faith like he's trying to drill something into them with his eyes. He absently moves my hair behind my ear. "Don't hide yourself, pet," he says flatly.
With a last glance at the pair sitting at the table--and it looks almost like a warning--he strides out of the apartment.
"I trust you've both been firmly put in your place?" Olson says sedately. He's sitting on the couch, looking more than a little amused.
"Shut up," Faith mumbles, irritation dripping from her words.
Not sure of what, if anything, I should say, I slip out of the room for the safety of the kitchen. I guess like any family we have our faults and sore spots, which seem to line up in such a way as to constantly come into contact.
"You're the squishy center, Ta," Josh says. I turn away from the stove and see that he's leaning over the partition, a rueful grin on his face. "The Tootsie Roll Center of our Tootsie Roll Pop. We know this, we love this, but we must mock this because it's our nature."
This is very true. They're a mocking trio. Scoffing, even. But they've helped me out in dozens of ways since I moved back, saved my life more times than that, and even when all the spots are lining up in ways that just assure there will be fighting, I've never doubted that they care about me.
"Twinkling," I say matter-of-factly. Josh raises his eyebrows. "If your eyes were, um, twinkling? When you mocked? Then it would be more like...teasing. Friendly teasing."
"I think I can twinkle," he says immediately, his eyes soft. "Because, really, a Tootsie Roll Pop without a Tootsie Roll Center is just a sucker. And I may suck, but I'm not a sucker."
With that, he slinks back to his side of the partition, leaving me giggling as I take the vegetables off the burner. I think about the events of the day and decide it's been rather good, all things considered. Spike seems to be willing to let the latest Hellmouth problem distract him, which might help him sort things out. Faith is Faith, which is better than Faith being one of the varieties of non-Faith she has stocked up. And Josh and Olson are their usual selves; bless them for not being issue-ridden at moment.
I know that whoever is currently after the Hellmouth isn't going to be easy to deal with. We're really about to have a rough patch. But it's nothing we haven't all been through before, and if anything, we perform our best in a crisis. Actually, we sometimes come out of the troubled times better than we were before.
In the meantime, there's a bottomless Slayer, a bitchy but sweet pretty boy, and an ornery Watcher to feed.
***