Chapter Fifteen

Accusations

Tara woke Spike the next morning with a slow, gentle kiss. Sliding easily from dreams to wakefulness, he thought sleepily that it was a bloody marvelous way to wake up.

When he opened his eyes to give her a goofy smile, she smiled back and whispered seductively, "How's the headache?"

"Gone, love," he murmured, reaching for her and kissing her again, wrapping his arms around her.

She returned the kiss for a few moments, then pulled gently away, smiling at him again. "Good," she replied. "Cause we've got work to do."

He frowned as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Now that's bloody unfair, love!" he grumbled as she got up and started getting dressed. "Not right to trick a bloke like that!"

She just smiled and said, "We've got to figure this thing out, Sweetie. I'm gonna spend the day invading Scoobie territory. If I can't do some damage control for last night, I can at least find out what the damage is."

He winced at the thought of his encounter with Willow the night before. "Yeah, once Red tells the Slayer 'bout me hitting her, that'll give the soddin' Scoobies all the ammo they need."

"Not to mention Buffy. I have a feeling from now on you won't have to avoid just her. If she thinks you're chip-less, it gives her an excuse to go after you, and have everyone else on the lookout, too," Tara pointed out. "Which means it's especially dangerous for you to go out. While I'm handling the fieldwork, you can hit the books. See what you can find out."

Spike groaned again, but he grudgingly got out of the bed and began to dress. Tara finished getting ready before he did, and walked up behind him as he was buttoning a black shirt. Hugging him warmly from behind, she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Bye, Baby. I love you."

He turned and returned her embrace, his eyes shining worshipfully into hers at the words. "I love you too, Tara," he responded in an awed whisper, still scarcely able to believe it was all real. Never mind the fact that he had a psycho-stalker Slayer after him, or that he could not leave the confines of this small apartment.

Tara loved him.

And that was all he needed in the world.

As Tara entered the Magic Box, she could hear heated conversation already underway, and prepared herself to again employ the acting skills she had been studying.

"…didn't go off, Buffy! He hit me, hard, and the chip did Not. Go. Off."

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, absolutely no indication of any personal interest in this information showing on her face. "You're absolutely sure it didn't go off? I mean, you said you were knocked down…"

Damn she's good, Tara thought with bitter disgust. This was the first time she had seen Buffy since her accidental discovery of just how far her abuse of Spike had gone. Suddenly she was aware that she was going to have to put more effort into acting as if Buffy did not inspire utter rage and revulsion in her than she had thought.

"Positive," Willow replied emphatically, granting Tara only a quick glance as the girl pulled out a chair and joined them at the table. "I wasn't knocked out, and I definitely would have noticed the screaming there would have been if the chip had gone off after how hard he hit me."

"Who hit you?" Tara broke in, frowning with concern at Willow.

Willow finally acknowledged her with a cool smile. "You know more than one person with a chip in his head, Tara?"

Tara flinched slightly in spite of herself at Willow's biting tone. But it was only to be expected that she would be curt with her after her final break-up speech to her the last time they had seen each other.

"So the chip's not working," Buffy sounded deeply troubled, and looked slightly sick. "And he hurt you, Will. I guess that's all I need to know, really. He's proven already that he's a danger again." Tara had to hand it to her, she looked genuinely upset and disappointed, as if she had hoped that she would never have to say those words.

Tara wracked her brain for some way to defend Spike; some way to prove that he was not a danger to anyone. But the only evidence she had could not be revealed, because it was also evidence that she had seen him in the past couple weeks, and Buffy could not know that.

With a sigh of resignation, Buffy stood up. "Well, I guess we need to have an emergency meeting. Everybody needs to know to be on the lookout for him. I need to find him as soon as possible and…and put him down."

Tara fought back a wave of disgust at the way Buffy spoke of him, as if he were just some…some dog to be put out of its misery. "Wait a second," she couldn't help saying, keeping all but just a little concern out of her voice. "I mean, this is Spike we're talking about. And all he did was hit you, right? Did he try to bite you?"

"No," Willow admitted, smiling coolly.

The smile was unnerving to Tara; she deliberately avoided her ex-lover's eyes, remembering what had happened the last time she had looked her in the eye. "Then… then are we sure that he is going to start killing again?"

"We don't have to be sure, Tara," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "He's a vampire. If there's any chance that he could hurt humans again…I can't live with that if that happens. Last time he was free to hurt humans, he killed thousands upon thousands of people. We've gotten used to thinking of him as harmless. But the truth is, without that chip, he's anything but harmless. It's my duty, Tara. And I don't like it any more than you do. But it's what I have to do."

Fighting back her anger at Buffy's hypocrisy, Tara nodded in reluctant agreement. She had to appear to accept Buffy's words; anything less would appear suspicious.

Willow stood up, a smug smile on her lips. "What time do you want to meet?"

"As soon as possible. Sevenish, maybe?" Buffy suggested.

Willow nodded. "I'll tell Xander and Anya."

"I'm going to need you to do a de-invite at my house before tonight, ok, Will?" Buffy said.

Willow replied with a shrug, "Let's do it." And the two of them headed for the door, not giving Tara a second glance.

Tara realized with a sick feeling that damage control was not really an option. Who was she kidding? There was no way that any of the Scoobies would believe anything she said over Buffy and Willow, and both appeared to be fully convinced that he was a threat again. Tara highly doubted that Buffy actually believed that he was dangerous; she had to know the power that she held over him; even if he had somehow gotten rid of his chip, he would not have dared to do anything to anger her. But Tara knew that Buffy would use this new development to her advantage, to help turn the other Scoobies more fully against Spike.

We've got to figure this out, and quick, she thought as she headed out the door and back toward her apartment.

Spike frowned in concentration. This was simply too bloody complicated to follow. He rubbed his eyes and squinted, trying again to focus…on the television screen. The books lay untouched on the kitchen counter.

"Bloody talk shows," he muttered, getting up and going to the refrigerator. "Can't keep track of who's shaggin whose soddin' sister, who's preggers with some other bloke's baby! Bloody hell!"

He was just closing the refrigerator door when he heard the doorbell ring. He froze, fighting off panic.

Couldn't be Buffy, he reassured himself. Girl would never ring the soddin' bell.

Then, the polite ring was followed by a series of hard knocks that shook the door.

Trembling, he tried to calm himself, closing his eyes, taking several deep breaths. She can't find you here. She can't find you here. She can't find you here…

"Spike! Are you here?" a familiar voice rang out through the door, and he released the breath in relief. Dawn. "Open the freakin' door!"

Quickly he crossed the living room and let her in, glancing around the hallway before closing it behind her.

"Just what do you think you're doing here, Niblet?" he demanded, turning to face her accusingly.

Seemingly oblivious to his annoyance, she replied, "Visiting."

"Well, you oughta be in school, Bit. What do you think your sis would think if she knew you were cutting school?" He was building up a good mad, built from his unfounded fear, and annoyance at himself for said fear. Firmly, he opened the door again, gesturing with his arm toward it. "You need to go."

Her eyes widened with hurt, moist with tears.

Oh, God, no. Not the puppy-dog eyes!

"D-don't you want to see me?" she asked softly, her lower lip trembling.

He was lost.

"Of course I do, Bit, it's just that if your sister knew…" he tried to explain, taking her arms gently in his hands.

"She won't ever know. I forged her signature on an excuse note to take to school tomorrow."

Spike felt instantly very proud of her. "That's my girl!" he laughed softly, relenting completely. "All right then. Maybe you can help me make heads or tails of these soddin' books!"

"You haven't started looking yet?" Dawn was incredulous.

Spike said nothing, just shot her a dark, "shut-up" look.

"Ok," Dawn shrugged. "I'll take the journal."

"Why do you get the bleedin' journal?" Spike was indignant.

"Because I'm only in 10th grade and that book is waaayy beyond my level," she insisted, nodding seriously to confirm her claim.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, picking up the books and moving to the loveseat, passing the journal to Dawn, who was already seated there.

They sat in silence for about a half an hour, both immersing themselves in study. Suddenly Spike closed the book, looking at Dawn in exasperation. "This bloody book is full of nothing but resurrection rituals, but I haven't a soddin' clue which one we're looking for. We need Tara for this; she was actually there."

"I'm not having much luck either," Dawn admitted. "I'm up to about a month after Buffy…died, and…" she struggled past the difficult word, and finished with an effort, "all she'd written up till then was just about how bad she missed her, how…how everybody was falling apart…" Her voice trailed off.

Concern in his blue eyes, Spike reached over and closed the journal. "Maybe you shouldn't be doing this, Sweet Bit," he murmured.

Dawn didn't look at him, obviously struggling for control.

At that moment, they heard Tara's key turn in the lock, and the door opened.

Tara looked surprised to see Dawn, and then raised her eyebrows in a slightly accusing look directed at Spike. "Dawn," she said, still looking at Spike. "Why aren't you in school?"

"I have a note," Dawn supplied hopefully. "Signed by Buffy. Well, signed by me signing like Buffy, but still…"

"This is dangerous," Tara insisted. "You need to be in school." She was still glaring at Spike.

Spike stood up, putting on a patented look to melt her defenses. He had his own set of puppy-dog eyes. "Now, pet," he said softly, going to her, standing impossibly close, running his hands softly up and down her arms. She tried to focus; how was she supposed to be firm in the face of this? "There's no way Buffy'll find out she was here. She wants to help with the research. Without her, we wouldn't even have the books. Can't hurt to let her stay for a bit."

Tara sighed. "Fine," she muttered, but her voice was softer now, and her eyes were dancing. "What have we got?"

The three of them settled down to a long afternoon of research.