Chapter 8

Spike looked at Dawn with large, confused eyes. She returned his gaze with disbelief.

He reached for her hand and put it against his chest. Her eyes widened.

"Wow. What could've...or I mean how did that happen? Does that mean you're...human, now?"

Spike frowned.

"I have no Idea. I mean I have a heartbeat, I need to breathe... what else is there?"

"Hmm. Oh, I've got it!" Dawn went to retrieve something from her bag. She held it up to him, showing that it was a small make up mirror.

He took it.

"Well?"

"Nothing. I see nothing."

"Oh. Then what?"

"Wait! A silhouette. In the mirror. It's getting stronger...hey, I'm handsome!" He turned his head, admiring himself from different angles. "Though actually I never had any doubt about that." He smirked.

Dawn just nodded, she was thinking.

"Maybe you're turning right at this moment, and we're actually witnessing it. So, you have a reflection."

"Looks like it." He suddenly thought of something. He went to the small window positioned high up on the wall, moved his hand into the small ray of sunlight seeping through it. At first it burned, a little too hot, but then it settled to a comfortable warming heat.

Dawn was both excited and confused. If Spike was turning human, they would be able to take walks in the park like normal couples and they could have kids someday too. But part of her brain was a bit suspicious about this. So, this probably was the doings of some spell, but who'd done it and why on earth so? And weren't there always bad consequences to spells that big?

Spike was, to say the truth, freaked out. He was becoming human? Then he would be able to give Dawn at least a pretty normal life, without the risk of being dusted in the middle of the day. But, he'd lose his strength and his fast healing and he wouldn't be able to protect Dawn as well. Not that she needed protection, but he'd feel stupid if he couldn't protect his lady. Plus, he'd get old, and eventually die.

"Um, how are you feeling?" Dawn asked him.

"Okay, I guess. Still a little hot, but it'sprobably from my body temperature rising."

"Should I call Wesley and the others? You know, so they don't worry.?"

He chuckled.

"Bit, I think they'll worry a bit more if you tell them about this whole 'Spike's turning human' thing."

"They'll just have to deal with it." She stood up, fetched her phone and dialed the number.

"Dawn?" It was Willow's voice.

"Yeah, hi. Er, about Spike..."

"How is he? Not a big pile of dust, I hope?"

"No! I mean, no, he's, he's fine. Pretty much recovered."

"Really? That's a relief. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I was kinda hoping you'd answer that for me. He's not er, fully recovered, you know, um, not like was before, he's kinda, um, changed, but in the better...oh fuck it. We think Spike's turning human."

"Human? But how could he... I mean why?" Willow's trembling voice was trying to form decent questions.

"Well, he's got the beating heart, the reflection and the ability to be in the sun."

"Oh." Dawn could almost hear Willow's brain at work, trying to explain the situation.

"You should probably come over, and we'll see if... I mean we'll check the...um, investigate the cause of this." She finally suggested.

"They're not gonna poke me with bloody sticks are they?"

Dawn ignored him.

"We'll be right there. Bye!" She hung up.

"Well?"

"We're going there. And you're not gonna protest if they wanna poke on you. I mean, this is a strange case. Maybe they think you're gonna like, explode at any moment. You're not are you?"

"Dunno." He shrugged."I promise to let you know if I feel an explosion coming on."


Fifteen minutes later they entered the office, Spike getting greeted with both curious and suspicious glances from the group.

Willow, Wesley, Angel, Cordelia, Fred and Gunn were all there. Gunn came up to him, looked at him with narrow eyes as if trying to find something.

"Looks the same to me." He shrugged and went back to his seat.

Willow took him carefully by the arm, as if she was afraid of breaking him. He sighed and sat down in the seat she'd led him to.

"So, you say you're human now? Well prove it." Gunn challenged.

"If you haven't noticed, mate, I'm sitting in the sunshine here."

"He's right." Fred stood up, bent down, taking his wrist in her hand. "And he's got a pulse."

"So how did you do it?" Angel spoke up from his seat in the corner. "Howd'ya get human, Spike? Was it a spell? Some kind of black magic, right?" He stood up while he was talking. Drowning every word with sarcasm and hate.

Spike sighed. Could he be more obvious? The poof was jealous. Of course he was, not being able to stand in the sun, have children and all the other human stuff.

"I have no idea what you're talking 'bout, mate." Spike said, trying to calm his sire down.

"What black sorcerer did you hire this time?" Suddenly Angel's big hand was around Spike's throat.

"Take it easy, I could actually choke, you know." Angel's grip just tightened.

"You think you're so good it sickens me. You need to make up for what you've done before you deserve this, and you're nowhere near finished. I'm the one who's suffered and gone through hell for my redemption. I'm the one who's entitled to become human!"

"Angel, back down. Let go of him." Gunn spoke up, a small hint of threat within his voice.

Angel suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing, how stupid he was making himself look, and released Spike, who sighed of relief.

"Sorry. I think I need a nap." He mumbled, moving into his private room.

Willow shot a worrying glance in his direction and then looked at Spike.

"So, we definitely need to find out what happened, I mean there could be a hidden price to pay, or a deeper meaning to this. I suggest we bury ourselves in the books." She said cheerily.

"I can help." Dawn offered.

"Er, I think someone should do the patrolling too."

"Gunn, I think Buffy, Xander, Faith and Robin have got it covered." Willow said sarcastically.

"Los Angeles is a pretty big town, you know..."

"Ok, fine, go. The research'll go fine without you, too. And Giles should be here any moment now."

Gunn sighed of relief and quickly disappeared out the door.

"You mind if I go too? I think I need to collect my thoughts and all that rot."

"Fine, Spike, you can go. Don't get into any trouble."

He then stood up too and walked through the door.

The LA night air was crisp and refreshing. Spike sucked his lungs full of it while pondering his situation.

After about ten minutes he decided to hell with it and entered the nearest bar.

It was pretty crowded for a Wednesday, but he easily found an unoccupied chair at the bar desk.

He ordered a bottle of whisky to drown his thoughts in.

When he'd drunk about half of it he remembered that he couldn't take anywhere near the same amount of alcohol that he used to.

It'll be cheaper to get drunk, that's a plus.

But it'll be much more expensive to buy all the food he was going to need.

He'd have to get a job. Where could you find one when you'd been educated in the 19th century?

He dropped his head down on the desk in frustration.

"Sorrows?" A pleasant female voice asked.

He turned his head, seeing a woman who was pretty slim, but not unhealthily. She had light brown hair, kind hazel eyes and a cute mouth. Pretty young, maybe twenty. Not at all what he'd expected. Usually it was some blonde bimbo trying to hit on him with her breasts.

This girl reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite place her.

"Yeah." He turned took a large gulp of his bottle.

She sat down beside him and ordered a vodka.

"You?" He questioned.

"What about me?" She did a shy smile/shrug kinda thing that he found cute.

Now he saw who she reminded him of. That chick in that tv show. Mischa Barton. Yeah, that was it.

"Have any sorrows to drown?" he nodded to her drink.

"Yeah. Kinda." She seemed to be a shy kind of a girl.

"So share." Spike was just drunk enough to be interested in hearing her story.

She looked at him akwardly, like 'why do you wanna hear it'.

"Well, I'm an artist. And today I walked past this huge gallery and saw my painting in the window. Signed by someone not me." She slurped at her vodka.

"That's a bugger. What was it of?"

"What it?"

"The painting. What motive?"

"Oh." She looked at him strangely again. "It was kind of an 18th century woman."

"That right?"

"Mmm hmm." She smiled at the weird but handsome man and took another swig of her drink.

The light conversation went on, becoming more personal as they got more loaded. He found out her name was Adrie.

After another bottle of whisky for Spike and seven more drinks for the woman they staggered out from the bar, laughing and trying to keep standing up by clinging to each other. They hadn't gotten far when they crumbled to the ground, laughing even louder.

"Come on, stranger." She stood up, pulling him with her.

"'m not strange." He pouted, but immediately burst into laughter again.

They stumbled a few more blocks, not knowing who was leaning more on the other.

"Well." Adrie sighed as she patted the cement wall of a building. "This is my place." Then she burst into laughter again.

Spike couldn't help but laugh with her. Then he leaned against the wall for support. It turned out the wall was an open door, and he fell backwards, landing on his butt.

That only made them both laugh even more.

"Come on, let's get you in." She tried to push him indoors, but caught her foot and stumbled down on him.

"Oh, if you wanted this luv, you could've just asked." She laughed before pressing her soft lips against his full.

Spike shortly remembered there was something he should be thinking about but his alchohol fogged brain wouldn't cooperate. So he just kissed her back.

Somehow they made their was up to the top floor, stumbling into her apartment. She lead him to the bed. They were already half-undressed.

He trembled with his zipper, and with some help from her they succeeded in opening it.

He lowered his head to hers, and they both moaned as their tongues battled once again.

AN: What happened? And please review review REVIEW!