Disclaimer: They're not mine.
--
Spike considered Xander where the boy was lying on his bed, snoring softly.
The only emotion he could work up was bloodlust. Even the burning embers of his hatred for the man had died down at the moment. The bitterness he had always felt for the boy's easy place in Buffy's life had died down as the boy's place had slipped tenuously away.
He couldn't even feel disdain for the human any longer.
The bloodlust was all that was left.
He didn't feel sympathy, he reminded himself angrily. He was a soulless animal. That was a pure, good emotion. It was one he didn't feel.
A pure, selfless vampire didn't exist.
A good vampire wasn't supposed to exist.
But that was the funny thing about free will. It was free. Even for a selfish demon. He'd had a lot of opportunities to hurt Dawn the way he'd constantly hurt Xander. Before the soul, after the soul.
He could have destroyed her.
But he hadn't. He'd saved her many a time. He'd tried to rationalize it before, explaining it away as just being for Buffy. But the truth was that he wouldn't have hurt her.
If he was honest with himself, it had been Dawn that had redeemed him, not Buffy. He preferred the line about Buffy anyway; it was more poetic. The love of a good woman, and all that.
Except that she had never loved him. He'd thought it could be remedied with a soul.
It hadn't been. She hadn't loved him then, either.
Now he was stuck in this awful purgatory of life. Bad things happened, and all he could do is fight on futilely, stuck in some macabre dance of death with evil.
A good vampire.
His mouth twisted into a sneer. If anybody else had pulled a line like that on him, he would have laughed out loud. That sort of thing was impossible, and unreachable.
And not only was he doing it, but he'd pulled Anya in along with him.
He stared at Xander. The sweet, hot blood flowed just beneath the surface of the boy's skin. A feast flowed, compelling him to drink.
And he didn't, for no other reason than the knowledge that doing so would begin his slippery end-run into evil again. A move that would put him against the people he called his friends.
Free will. How laughable.
He left the room, disgusted.
There were other demons that were 'good.' What was the difference between them and vampires? Why were vampires automatically bad?
"It's the blood." Said Anya from behind him.
Spike flinched, surprised. "What?" He said.
"Vampires are bad because they need human blood to live." She said.
He must have said something out loud, he realized belatedly. Had he been so lost in thought that Anya could sneak up on him? Or was she getting better at using her new vampiric stealth and grace?
"How does that make us bad, pet?" He asked, calming himself.
"We prey on them." Said Anya. "Every time you kill to eat, you break down some of yourself. You destroy a little bit of whatever shred of decency you had left. If you make it through a month, there's nothing good in you left. It's been battered, destroyed, because of your body's needs. A need for blood."
Spike frowned, not understanding for a moment. "Humans kill to eat too." He said dubiously.
"There, you see?" She asked. "You compared humans to animals. That's what it does. You get used to thinking of them as animals, since you prey on them. You think of them as nothing but food. That chip was the best thing that could have happened to you. Because you couldn't feed, that part of you that knew what you were doing was wrong had a chance to build, to work. Vampires aren't born without conscience. They're born hungry. It's that first feeding that breaks down the walls. Haven't you ever seen a fledgling that resisted feeding?"
"Yes." Said Spike. "Lots of them. That first kill is always the hardest. That's when you need a Sire the most." He frowned, acknowledging the truth in what she said. "Where does that leave us?"
"So long as we don't feed on humans, we can be good." She replied. "So long as we don't lose touch with humans, start thinking of them as prey."
Spike growled. "I always think of them as prey. Happy meals on legs."
"But you haven't fed since we got back." Pointed out Anya.
"No, I haven't." Said Spike.
The two vampires stood in the dark room, and Spike waited for Anya to continue the line of thought. But she was watching Xander sleep through the open door.
"Best to forget him." Advised Spike.
"I can't." Said Anya. "I mean, I'm not mad at him any more. I'm not in love with him any more. But...I can't."
--
It was nearly dawn when the two Jeeps pulled up in front of the mansion. The dark haired Slayer got out first, looking around. "Feel those tinglies?" She asked.
Half a dozen Slayers fell in behind her. "Yeah." Said one of them. "I feel it."
"Anyone else?" Asked Faith.
Most of them shook their hands. One Slayer rubbed the back of her neck uncertainly.
"There are vampires in the house." Said Faith.
"Should we wait for S-2 and S-3?" Asked one girl uncertainly.
"Can't be more than a few." Said Faith. "Odds are it's Angel, anyway. Come on."
They moved into the house stealthily, stakes appearing out of nowhere. Their class on stake concealment had been one of the first requirements for field work, something that Buffy had insisted upon.
It had been Andrew's idea to form up into teams.
Faith didn't know how she had been corralled into the role of field leader. It probably had something to do with Robin, who was currently in Africa with S-4, trying to figure out just why they'd received a false alarm.
He was very good at getting Faith to do what he wanted.
They were going to have a long discussion about that one of these days.
Faith led the way, nearly knocking Dawn down.
"Hi, guys." Dawn said sleepily. "Spike and Anya."
Faith held a hand up, halting the Slayers behind her. "Spike and Anya? Aren't they dead?"
"Yes." Said Spike, from the kitchen beyond Dawn.
Faith relaxed, sliding her stake into her waistband. "All right, girls, stand down."
"Um, vampires?" Asked one Slayer uncertainly. She was a newer Slayer, one they'd picked up a month ago.
"It's all right." Said Faith. "Another lot of good vampires."
"Like Angel?" Asked the Slayer. The other Slayers were already moving off to their rooms.
"Yeah. Hey, we debrief at noon! Don't sleep too long!" Said Faith.
Spike moved forward. "I take it that the big Ascension was a big flop." He said.
"Yeah." Said Faith.
"Thought so." Said Xander, coming down the stairs rubbing his eyes. "Way too convenient."
Giles came down the stairs behind him, walking in the too-cautious manner of a person who was still asleep. "Oh, the Slayers returned from Africa." He said blankly.
"Yeah, Rupes." Said Spike.
"Don't call me Rupes." Said Giles, reaching the bottom of the stairs and putting a hand on Xander's shoulder.
"I had another dream." Said Xander.
"What about?" Asked Spike.
"Anya." Said Xander.
Faith noted the interaction between the two. "Whoa. What did I miss while I was gone?" She asked suspiciously, noting for the first time that Spike's duster was gone from Xander's shoulders and was back with its owner.
Xander frowned. "Not much." He said.
Faith shrugged.
Giles tightened his grip. "Anya...what was the vision about?" He asked.
Xander shrugged uncomfortably against the tight grip on his shoulder. "Something about Anya and Angel."
"Naturally." Said Giles, pulling Xander closer. "Naturally." He pushed Xander away, sending him stumbling forward to the ground.
"Hey!" Said Faith, balling her hands into fists. "What do you think you're doing?"
Giles smirked. "A den full of Slayers and other odious things of light."
Spike growled suddenly, curling his hands into fists. "What was it you called me?" He asked, moving forward. "A rotting ball of nothing, the failed experiment of a failed experiment?"
Giles' smirk died down a little. "Yes, I think that was it." He said. "Amazing that you remember."
Xander groaned, trying to get up. Spike put a foot on his back, holding him down. "I remember hell quite well, actually." He said.
--
Spike considered Xander where the boy was lying on his bed, snoring softly.
The only emotion he could work up was bloodlust. Even the burning embers of his hatred for the man had died down at the moment. The bitterness he had always felt for the boy's easy place in Buffy's life had died down as the boy's place had slipped tenuously away.
He couldn't even feel disdain for the human any longer.
The bloodlust was all that was left.
He didn't feel sympathy, he reminded himself angrily. He was a soulless animal. That was a pure, good emotion. It was one he didn't feel.
A pure, selfless vampire didn't exist.
A good vampire wasn't supposed to exist.
But that was the funny thing about free will. It was free. Even for a selfish demon. He'd had a lot of opportunities to hurt Dawn the way he'd constantly hurt Xander. Before the soul, after the soul.
He could have destroyed her.
But he hadn't. He'd saved her many a time. He'd tried to rationalize it before, explaining it away as just being for Buffy. But the truth was that he wouldn't have hurt her.
If he was honest with himself, it had been Dawn that had redeemed him, not Buffy. He preferred the line about Buffy anyway; it was more poetic. The love of a good woman, and all that.
Except that she had never loved him. He'd thought it could be remedied with a soul.
It hadn't been. She hadn't loved him then, either.
Now he was stuck in this awful purgatory of life. Bad things happened, and all he could do is fight on futilely, stuck in some macabre dance of death with evil.
A good vampire.
His mouth twisted into a sneer. If anybody else had pulled a line like that on him, he would have laughed out loud. That sort of thing was impossible, and unreachable.
And not only was he doing it, but he'd pulled Anya in along with him.
He stared at Xander. The sweet, hot blood flowed just beneath the surface of the boy's skin. A feast flowed, compelling him to drink.
And he didn't, for no other reason than the knowledge that doing so would begin his slippery end-run into evil again. A move that would put him against the people he called his friends.
Free will. How laughable.
He left the room, disgusted.
There were other demons that were 'good.' What was the difference between them and vampires? Why were vampires automatically bad?
"It's the blood." Said Anya from behind him.
Spike flinched, surprised. "What?" He said.
"Vampires are bad because they need human blood to live." She said.
He must have said something out loud, he realized belatedly. Had he been so lost in thought that Anya could sneak up on him? Or was she getting better at using her new vampiric stealth and grace?
"How does that make us bad, pet?" He asked, calming himself.
"We prey on them." Said Anya. "Every time you kill to eat, you break down some of yourself. You destroy a little bit of whatever shred of decency you had left. If you make it through a month, there's nothing good in you left. It's been battered, destroyed, because of your body's needs. A need for blood."
Spike frowned, not understanding for a moment. "Humans kill to eat too." He said dubiously.
"There, you see?" She asked. "You compared humans to animals. That's what it does. You get used to thinking of them as animals, since you prey on them. You think of them as nothing but food. That chip was the best thing that could have happened to you. Because you couldn't feed, that part of you that knew what you were doing was wrong had a chance to build, to work. Vampires aren't born without conscience. They're born hungry. It's that first feeding that breaks down the walls. Haven't you ever seen a fledgling that resisted feeding?"
"Yes." Said Spike. "Lots of them. That first kill is always the hardest. That's when you need a Sire the most." He frowned, acknowledging the truth in what she said. "Where does that leave us?"
"So long as we don't feed on humans, we can be good." She replied. "So long as we don't lose touch with humans, start thinking of them as prey."
Spike growled. "I always think of them as prey. Happy meals on legs."
"But you haven't fed since we got back." Pointed out Anya.
"No, I haven't." Said Spike.
The two vampires stood in the dark room, and Spike waited for Anya to continue the line of thought. But she was watching Xander sleep through the open door.
"Best to forget him." Advised Spike.
"I can't." Said Anya. "I mean, I'm not mad at him any more. I'm not in love with him any more. But...I can't."
--
It was nearly dawn when the two Jeeps pulled up in front of the mansion. The dark haired Slayer got out first, looking around. "Feel those tinglies?" She asked.
Half a dozen Slayers fell in behind her. "Yeah." Said one of them. "I feel it."
"Anyone else?" Asked Faith.
Most of them shook their hands. One Slayer rubbed the back of her neck uncertainly.
"There are vampires in the house." Said Faith.
"Should we wait for S-2 and S-3?" Asked one girl uncertainly.
"Can't be more than a few." Said Faith. "Odds are it's Angel, anyway. Come on."
They moved into the house stealthily, stakes appearing out of nowhere. Their class on stake concealment had been one of the first requirements for field work, something that Buffy had insisted upon.
It had been Andrew's idea to form up into teams.
Faith didn't know how she had been corralled into the role of field leader. It probably had something to do with Robin, who was currently in Africa with S-4, trying to figure out just why they'd received a false alarm.
He was very good at getting Faith to do what he wanted.
They were going to have a long discussion about that one of these days.
Faith led the way, nearly knocking Dawn down.
"Hi, guys." Dawn said sleepily. "Spike and Anya."
Faith held a hand up, halting the Slayers behind her. "Spike and Anya? Aren't they dead?"
"Yes." Said Spike, from the kitchen beyond Dawn.
Faith relaxed, sliding her stake into her waistband. "All right, girls, stand down."
"Um, vampires?" Asked one Slayer uncertainly. She was a newer Slayer, one they'd picked up a month ago.
"It's all right." Said Faith. "Another lot of good vampires."
"Like Angel?" Asked the Slayer. The other Slayers were already moving off to their rooms.
"Yeah. Hey, we debrief at noon! Don't sleep too long!" Said Faith.
Spike moved forward. "I take it that the big Ascension was a big flop." He said.
"Yeah." Said Faith.
"Thought so." Said Xander, coming down the stairs rubbing his eyes. "Way too convenient."
Giles came down the stairs behind him, walking in the too-cautious manner of a person who was still asleep. "Oh, the Slayers returned from Africa." He said blankly.
"Yeah, Rupes." Said Spike.
"Don't call me Rupes." Said Giles, reaching the bottom of the stairs and putting a hand on Xander's shoulder.
"I had another dream." Said Xander.
"What about?" Asked Spike.
"Anya." Said Xander.
Faith noted the interaction between the two. "Whoa. What did I miss while I was gone?" She asked suspiciously, noting for the first time that Spike's duster was gone from Xander's shoulders and was back with its owner.
Xander frowned. "Not much." He said.
Faith shrugged.
Giles tightened his grip. "Anya...what was the vision about?" He asked.
Xander shrugged uncomfortably against the tight grip on his shoulder. "Something about Anya and Angel."
"Naturally." Said Giles, pulling Xander closer. "Naturally." He pushed Xander away, sending him stumbling forward to the ground.
"Hey!" Said Faith, balling her hands into fists. "What do you think you're doing?"
Giles smirked. "A den full of Slayers and other odious things of light."
Spike growled suddenly, curling his hands into fists. "What was it you called me?" He asked, moving forward. "A rotting ball of nothing, the failed experiment of a failed experiment?"
Giles' smirk died down a little. "Yes, I think that was it." He said. "Amazing that you remember."
Xander groaned, trying to get up. Spike put a foot on his back, holding him down. "I remember hell quite well, actually." He said.