I'm Not Him Anymore
Disclaimer: Just playin with em, I'll put em back nicely when I'm done.
Reviews: Yes, please. Air and water have nothing on reviews for making life worth living. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!
A/N: Thanks to Wayward Childe for his proofreading and encouragement. You keep me on track Partner.
Hey, everybody go read 'Fuzzy Dreams' by Wayward Childe. It's a hoot. Totally funny.
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Spike stared at the pages in his hand. He sank back down into his chair. His head spun with the implications of the information he held. Giles knew it all. He knew about Oxford and Cambridge. He knew that William had studied law and languages and poetry, not that the last subject had sunk into him. No matter how much his mother had wished it, William had never been able to do anything more with poetry than simply appreciate it for its beauty. With shaking fingers the vampire shifted through the printouts and blinked when he saw copies of his diplomas in the file. Spike's deepest held secrets were there. His vision narrowed until all he could see was the black and white of the pages in his hand. He started badly when Giles touched his arm.
"Spike? Are you all right? Can I get you anything?" The watcher was concerned the vampire was too close to passing out.
Dazed blue eyes rose until they met concerned green ones. "Why?" The question shook with shock.
"As I said, there was something about the way you spoke that night. Believe it or not your accent dropped just a little. I knew then you'd been to university. Imagine my surprise with I discovered…" He waved his hand over the diplomas.
"Well, there wasn't much else to do. Mother wanted me to be a poet like my namesake." Spike smiled a little as he ran his finger over the banner on his first diploma. The one from Oxford declaring that William James Wordsworth had earned honors in law.
"I wondered…" Giles began.
Spike looked up. "No, not related. At least not as far as I know. If there is a relationship it's buried back there in the darkest branches of the tree. Mother loved his poetry and hoped that naming me after the original would somehow give me a small bit of talent but as much as she said she loved my poems, they were utter rubbish."
Giles smiled slightly. He pulled a small book out of the drawer. Spike noticed that it seemed to be very old and frowned. The watcher opened it to a page marked with a ribbon. He held the book out to the puzzled vampire who took it and glanced at it. His mouth dropped open in shock. The first page was a biography, woefully short, as the author had died in his mid-twenties. Slender, trembling fingers carefully turned the yellowed pages as astonished sapphire eyes read words that had been written over one hundred years before. He closed the cover and reopened it to look for a copyright date. It had been published in 1885.
Spike swallowed heavily and dragged in a huge unneeded breath. He couldn't seem to control the dizziness that fuzzed the edges of his vision. He shook his head and held the book up slightly. "Who…? How…? Um…" He stuttered.
Giles grabbed the book as it threatened to slip from the cool fingers. "Apparently your mother had changed her will after you died instructing that everything you'd written must be published. She set up a small trust and assigned your cousin to the task."
A small chuckle escaped. "I didn't know I had a cousin."
"Anyway, five years after you died, your cousin Sarah managed to find a publisher and paid for the publishing. There were just a few copies printed. Most of them went to relatives. This copy was in my personal library. Imagine my surprise." The watcher grinned as shock once more deepened the dark blue eyes of the blond. He handed the book back.
"How did you get a copy?" Spike tilted his head, cautiously turning the fragile pages. He moved to the end of the book to see how many of his poems had actually been included. He'd destroyed the ones he'd written on the night he'd died.
"I got it at an estate sale just before I came to be Buffy's watcher." Giles opened another drawer and pulled out a bottle of Scotch with two glasses. He held up the alcohol in a wordless question.
"Oh yes, please." Spike breathed, the polite acceptance once more surprising the older man. Spike closed the small antique book, set it carefully on the corner of the desk and accepted the generous drink. Sipping it, he picked up more papers from the file. With growing disbelief, he studied each one. He smiled a little when he came to his second degree, this one from Cambridge, stating that he'd earned honors in languages.
"Mother would have preferred this to be in poetry." He remembered. "Probably would have gone for another one but she took ill and I dropped my studies to care for her. I missed school even though I caught hell there for not being a very good poet despite my name." He drained his glass. "Don't have any secrets left. Do I, Rupert?"
"Oh, I'm sure there are a few things about your life, or unlife as it were, that I don't know about." The watcher observed dryly as he refilled Spike's glass.
"Wouldn't do for the Wanker's Council to know everything, now would it?" Spike snarked. Giles smiled involuntarily at the uncomplimentary nickname being spoken in that genteel accent. His smile grew to a grin at another thought.
Spike eyed that grin suspiciously. "What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking that we both present a false image to the world." Giles commented.
"How would that be?" The vampire dropped the papers back onto the desk and sat back.
"Have you ever heard of 'Ripper'?" Giles asked after a couple of minutes.
"As in 'Jack the' or 'Ripper' as in the mage who terrorized London a few years back?" Spike smiled a bit at the memory. He hadn't been in London at the time but had heard about the magical mischief that had made an impact on the demonic world. "Not many demons believed in Ripper. I heard he mended his ways and became a watcher. Didn't he…. Ripper?"
Giles let an abashed smile emerge. "Yes, he did."
Spike held up his glass in a toast. "Here's to being reformed."
Rupert chuckled as he tapped his drink against Spike's. "You consider yourself reformed?"
Spike stood up to pace. "Oh Hell, yes. William was a ponce. He was weak and pathetic. He didn't have any friends and the woman he loved was a bitch who took great delight in telling him he was beneath her." He stopped short in his steps and dropped his head. "I guess not that much has changed after all."
Giles straightened the papers and closed the folder. He carefully placed the book on top of the file. "William was sensitive and creative. He loved his mother and earned degrees in the two most prestigious universities in the world. He was intelligent and could have made a real difference in the world if not for Angelus. You are intelligent. You are sensitive and caring. I've seen you with Dawn and Faith."
Spike raised his head and trained golden eyes on his companion. "I am a demon. I'm evil and I'm not sensitive." He raked a hand through his hair. "And, oh God I can't even make it sound convincing any more. I am pathetic."
The human stood up and tentatively placed a hand on Spike's slender shoulder. "No, you're not."
Spike shrugged the hand off in agitation. "All I know is that I'm not him anymore. I can't be. Drusilla rescued me from a mediocre existence. She and Angelus gave me a life of power and strength. I've enjoyed being a vampire. I can't and won't go back to William's pitiful life. Do you know how many times I've felt like just taking a walk in the sun since they put this sodding chip in my head?"
"And the fact that you haven't is a testimony to your strength." Giles observed.
"Wasn't strength. It was a promise. I promised Buffy I'd protect Dawn. I failed once, don't plan on ever doing it again." Spike put distance between them.
Rupert gaped at the vampire. "Failed? How do you think you failed Dawn?" He didn't notice the return of Spike's 'cockney' accent.
"Bloody well let myself get pushed off the tower by that little git. Let Buffy die, didn't I? Tried to be there for the slayer when she got back. Let her use me, tried to love her the way she deserved but got kicked in the knackers for it. Should have just let her stake me but no, had to take whatever attention she'd give even if it was negative. Was like one of those whipped dogs you see, get abused by their owners but don't have enough brains to run away, just stays around hoping that just once there'd be a little affection something more than a kick to the head." Spike had turned his back to the stunned human and covered his eyes. He'd forgotten he had an audience. Buffy had made it clear she'd kill him if he ever told anyone of their ill-advised relationship. She'd told him in no uncertain terms that she was embarrassed that she'd stooped so low that she'd had a physical relationship with something as disgusting as him.
"Buffy abused you?" Giles tried to wrap his brain around the incredible information he was hearing. "That's what Faith meant, that Buffy couldn't hurt you anymore."
Spike started and whirled around, dropping his hand. Giles was staggered to see moisture on the vampire's handsome face. "Oh Bloody Hell, forgot you were there. I'm staked now for sure. She warned me never to tell anyone. Might as well dust me now, Rupes. No way is she gonna let me live now."
The watcher poured himself another large drink before topping off the vampire's glass. "I'll need to talk to Buffy about what Faith said but I will never let her know you said anything. What are you going to do about Faith? I can't let you hurt her."
Spike let out a harsh laugh. "Couldn't if I wanted to. You have no idea what she's done for me."
"Oh, I think I do." Giles said very softly. "Why don't you tell me anyway?"
The vampire sat down in the desk chair and began to relate the events of the past few days between hefty sips of the excellent alcohol.
"I saw her breaking your hands." Giles confessed sympathetically from his position in the other chair. "I thought she was torturing you until I saw her crying."
"She was crying over me?" Spike asked in disbelief. He shook his head. "I don't think so. That one doesn't cry, too tough. Were you gonna leap in and save me from the mean little slayer?"
The human smiled at the sarcasm. "I think maybe I would have." He could feel the effects of the alcohol he'd consumed.
"I think maybe you've had a little too much." Spike took control of the bottle and firmly put the cap back on it. He stashed it safely back in its drawer and slid the file back into the other drawer. He picked up the book to put it away. He hesitated a fraction of a second before placing the small proof of his former existence out of sight. His sharp ears picked up the sound of Anya's key in the lock of the front door.
"Hey, Blondie? Everything okay back there? Not gonna have to hurt the watcher for messing with my vamp, am I?" Faith called.
A shiver of delight crawled down Spike's spine at the possessive note in the dark-haired slayer's voice. His unbeating heart seemed to give a little leap of joy at the sensation. Giles watched the lean face soften and a light begin to glow in the sapphire eyes. He felt something shift, a readjustment of his perceptions of vampires in general and this vampire in particular. He knew enough to realize that Spike was different but the watcher hadn't realized the extent of the anomaly. He watched the not-so-evil bloodsucker swipe at the remaining moisture from his face and inhale. A nearly imperceptible change fell over the lean body as he stood up. Rupert could see the last vestiges of William fall away leaving pure vampire in its wake.
The two men moved into the main portion of the shop where the three females waited. Faith slid her arms around Spike's waist and raised her face for a kiss. Tara smiled at the change in Spike and Faith's auras. They fit together the way Spike and Buffy never had. Buffy had never been able to let go of the notion that soulless meant evil. Tara had realized early on that Spike's evilness had been more of a façade than anything else. He'd adapted to evilness as a way of survival. The chip had stopped him nearly as effectively as a soul. The blonde witch had seen the hampered vampire's hopeless love for Willow's best friend and had watched silently as his spirit had withered under the continued abuse Buffy had heaped on his devoted heart. She'd been forced to sit back mutely and listen to Buffy cry about 'letting the evil, soulless thing do those things to her' all the while seeing the darkness in the slayers aura that belied the story.
Giles cleared his throat, causing the vampire and the slayer to break apart. They grinned unrepentantly at the watching trio.
Anya fidgeted for long moments. "If you're finished for now, I'd like to get home to my Xander and have my own orgasms."
Faith smirked while Giles cleaned his glasses. "Yes, quite. We should get you and Tara home. If you're ready…" The elder Brit trailed off with a wave of his hand.
Spike gazed soberly at his new confidant. "Watcher, we need to decide what to do with Red."
"I know Spike, but right now we need to go home and get a good nights sleep. Tara? Are you going back to Buffy's?" Giles smiled gently at the shy blonde.
She nodded. "I think that would be best. At least for tonight, I don't want to upset her."
Spike and Faith watched with their arms around each other as Giles guided Anya and Tara into his car. They waved as the troubled watcher, the ex-demon and the shy witch drove away. Faith turned in Spike's arms and pulled him down for a heated kiss. Long minutes later she pulled away breathlessly and tugged him down the street toward his crypt.
"Your place. Now, Blondie. Motel's not safe, too much sun." She babbled as she pulled the bemused vamp along. Running the last bit of distance to the quiet crypt in their haste. They tumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs, clothing falling in piles as they kissed their way to the bed.
Much, much later, Spike rose up on his elbow and gazed down at the lovely woman who'd barreled her way into his heart. She'd healed his shattered spirit as swiftly and surely as she dusted a fledgling. He ran a trembling finger down her downy cheek, pausing as she murmured in her sleep and snuggled closer. He drew her into his cool embrace, lying down and letting himself drift into sated unconsciousness.
At the Summers house…Tara waved goodbye to Giles and Anya, then let herself into the house quietly hoping to make it to the room she shared with Willow without disturbing Buffy or Dawn. She tread silently and gracefully up the stairs and opened the door to the master bedroom. Willow was sitting in the vanity chair brushing her long red hair viciously.
"W-willow? Are you o-okay?" Tara asked quietly.
"Depends on whether or not you restored that vampire's voice." Willow retorted. "Is that what took you so long?"
"Well... Anya had the spell and M-mr. Giles said it needed to be done. I'm sorry if you disapprove." Tara told her with a little more confidence. "Spike had Faith take Anya and me for coffee so he and Mr. Giles could talk. Mr. Giles drove me home."
Willow slammed her brush down on the table, causing Tara to jump nervously. "Does that mean you're against me?" She demanded.
