Mortal Allies Series

Episode 5

War and Roses

By: Passion4Spike

Chapter 18: Omnis Mutations

Chapter Notes:

I'm finally getting a little free time to catch up on responding to your wonderful comments. I love every one of them, so keep 'em coming! For anyone wondering, Mad Max is doing fine; been to the vet, all good. He weighs 1.5 pounds, or did last Monday. I think he's doubled in size since then! He's thriving on this easy living.

I sadly say goodbye to All4Spike as a beta at this point. She had to pull out due to some RL issues. Thanks A BILLION to MissLuci for jumping in to beta, starting all the way back at Chapter 1 and going over every chapter to get caught up. I really can't thank All4Spike enough for stepping in when Holi117 had to give up her beta duties to go have her adorable babies. Betas are absolutely the unsung heroes of all fics. I don't know what I'd do without all their support, fixes, ideas, and suggestions!

-X-

Buffy fidgeted in her seat as she worked on conjugating 'love' in Latin. Amo – I love; Amamus – We love; Amas – You love.

As if she was actually going to need to speak or read Latin. She had Giles, and now Spike, for that. They could read the Latin and she would beat up whatever the Latin said to beat up. She looked at the clock. Lydia was late for this new, stupid class in the reading of languages that were not English. Faith, of course, wasn't here either. Faith hadn't been here all week. Why was Buffy here again? Oh, yeah, they were paying her to be a good little Slayer. She sighed and looked back at the book.

Amat – He loves; Amatis – You all love; Amant – They love.

"Amo Spike. Spike amat Buffy. Amant se." She smiled... maybe she could use this after all.

The doors to the library swung open just as Buffy was about to call it on account of boredom, and Lydia entered. The Council woman looked... not herself. Her normally smooth, neat bun had wispy fly-aways trailing around her face and down her neck, her cheeks were colored with red splotches, and her typically crisp suit seemed a bit rumpled.

Buffy set her book down and sat forward in her chair as Lydia approached.

"My apologies. Time seems to have gotten away from me," she said, placing her briefcase on the table.

"I've heard that time flies when you're having fun," Buffy suggested, wondering just who Lydia had been 'having fun' with. 'Spike?' The Slayer shook her head, dispelling that ridiculous notion. That was just her insecurities speaking. Just because every other man she'd ever said, 'Amo' to abandoned or betrayed her, did not mean Spike would. He was and he'd promised. Anyway, he'd been out all night, was injured, and was currently sleeping in the guest room... or maybe now just waking up and getting ready to meet the gang at Hawley Manor in a little while.

Lydia took her seat, opened her case, and took out her copy of the book Buffy was studying. "Now, I believe we were conjugating verbs..." she began, flipping pages. Suddenly she sighed and looked up at the Slayer, closing the book. "May I speak with you about something that's been bothering me? Something that affects you, as well."

Buffy's brows furrowed. "Sure," she agreed, happily closing her own book. "What's up?"

The Council woman pulled a thin sheaf of bound papers out and set it on the table, smoothing the cover with her hands. "I believe you know I wrote my thesis on William the Bloody," she began slowly.

Conjugating Latin was suddenly sounding better to the Slayer. "Yeah," she agreed warily.

Lydia's eyes remained on the papers, her hands continuing to run over them almost lovingly. "I had some theories as to William's human identity, and, I believe, after spending time here and speaking with him, that I know who he was."

"Oh," Buffy said guardedly.

The other woman looked up and met the Slayer's eyes. "His name is not 'Westfield' as he claims. It is Pratt... William James Pratt."

Buffy wasn't sure what to say. Did Lydia want her to confirm this or be outraged that Spike had lied to her? Spike hadn't lied; he had told her his real name, but in confidence.

When Buffy didn't speak, Lydia continued, "It is my belief that he murdered his only living family, his elderly mother. Both William and his mother, Anne, vanished without a trace, leaving their home and all belongings behind. Subsequently, several of William's... acquaintances were found murdered and posed in front of his gentlemen's club. They had railroad spikes through their skulls and their genitals were exposed... they had been posed in an indecent, quite scandalous, manner."

"And?" Buffy asked when Lydia seemed finished.

"And... and... I felt you should be informed of his deception and... and the atrocities he has perpetrated. It is one thing to know he has killed throngs of nameless, faceless victims, but quite another to realize he has hidden his true identity to obfuscate the murder his own mother, and his friends," the woman explained. "I am aware that feelings have developed between you two, and... I felt you should have all the facts before... before things went too far. He's a soulless demon—"

"So. What?" Buffy ground out angrily.

Lydia blinked, taken aback by the Slayer's vehemence and her words. "So... so, he has no conscious, no scruples—he's a murderer and a liar."

"Giles is a big ol' lying liar and could've easily been a murdering murderer," Buffy reminded her. "He poisoned me, he poisoned my dog, he put my mother in danger, my friends in danger. Christ, your stupid Council put the whole town in danger by bringing that psycho vamp here and then letting him waltz out of his cage! And you're all soul having... or so I assume."

When Lydia opened her mouth to respond, Buffy held a hand up, stopping her.

"I'm not as smart as you Council people. I haven't been to Oxford or spent my youth submerged in pompous, condescending Kool-Aid, but from what I can figure out, everyone has free will—souled or not. The soul might make it easier to choose the morally or socially acceptable thing to do, but you know what? That just makes what Giles and you Council jerks did all the worse, because you all chose to ignore that little moral compass. Spike's compass might be a little off True North, but at least he knows that, and he fights it every fucking day. He fights to do the right thing, to be a good man."

"How can you be so certain that he will continue to fight his true nature? He killed his own mother, for heaven's sake."

"He tried to save his mother!" Buffy blurted out, sending her chair toppling backwards as she shot to her feet, her anger loosening her tongue. "So, shut up about his fucking mother already!"

Lydia's eyes went wide. "He... he what?"

"Nothing. Never mind that. The point is I know what he was—erat. And I know what I was—eram—a shallow, vapid valley girl. I'm sure you were—eratis—someone you weren't too proud of before, too. We all have a past, Spike's is just longer and bloodier than most, but—mutavit—he has changed. Mutavi—I have changed. Mutata es—you have changed. Omnis mutations—everyone changes."

"Mutationes," Lydia corrected. "Not 'mutations'."

Buffy ignored her as she hastily gathered up the Latin book and put it in her bag. She lifted the strap over her head, slinging the bag across her chest. "Giles!" she called out so her voice would carry into the office. "Lilith's pissing me off. Can I kill her?"

"Please be mindful of the rare texts. It is difficult to read through blood stains," he replied deadpan.

Buffy leaned down, her face near Lydia's, her closed fists propped on the tabletop, and gave the woman a deadly smile. "I don't know what your game is—but if you think you're going to turn me against Spike so you can... can scoop him up for yourself, then you better make sure the beneficiaries on your life insurance are up to date."

"I-I assure you that is not my intention..." she stammered. "I simply... I... I was mistaken. I... I assumed he had not... he'd lied to you. I simply wanted to make sure you were... fully informed."

"Spike and I don't keep secrets anymore—been there, done that, got a cool decoder ring to show for it." Except for embarrassing things like being a 'real pro' in bed, of course. "We don't lie to each other."

Lydia opened her mouth, the coup de grâce on the tip of her tongue: the secret she and Spike shared about Buffy's sudden victory over the Council and her employment contract windfall. That revelation was certain to drive a wedge between the Slayer and the vampire... as she'd been strongly encouraged to do. But then, looking into this young woman's blazing eyes, seeing the fury and conviction in them, she snapped her mouth closed. It would do no good to earn a promotion if she were dead.

Lydia cleared her throat. "I... I was simply trying to look out for you. For your own good."

The Slayer snorted derisively and stood up. "Right," she agreed sarcastically. "Because the Council is always trying to help me. They're so concerned about poor little me. Do me a favor, don't do me any more favors." Buffy stopped and shook her head. "Or, just do that one favor of not doing any more favors, then don't do any more favors."

Lydia nodded shakily. "Of course," she agreed.

Buffy turned on her heel and headed for the doors.

"Very good use of your conjugated Latin verbs," Lydia remarked.

"Yeah, well, don't go spreading it around. Someone will want me reading stupid old books instead of pummeling annoying Council types."

"Your secret is safe with me," the 'Council-type' assured her, watching the still angry Slayer as she strode to the door and realizing, not for the first time, just how evenly matched and perfectly in sync William the Bloody and Buffy Summers actually were.

-X-

Spike pressed the button on the gizmo clipped to the DeSoto's sun visor and the garage door began to open smoothly at Hawley Manor. One of the few things his blundering git of a handyman had managed to get done properly on the first try. He pulled in, out of the stormy day, the rain that had been threatening earlier falling in sheets now, and closed the garage door behind him. This was a bit of alright, he had to admit.

From the trunk he removed one of the two new microwaves he'd purchased that morning at the Appliance Emporium. The other was for Buffy's house—to keep vampire food splatters separate from human food splatters.

He carried it in through the door that led directly into the kitchen, and placed it on the counter. He plugged it in and turned it on, the light came on, the turntable began turning and... POP! It went dark.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, heading for the basement and the fuse box.

He scowled at the blown fuse and then at all the previously blown fuses that littered the floor beneath the box where he'd tossed them. "Sodding ridiculous," he grumbled. "Wasting dosh on this bollocks." He dug into his jeans pocket and came out with an old, grimy penny. Spike pulled the main fuse block out, sending the basement into utter darkness. Bringing his demon up so he could see, he unscrewed the blown fuse, then shoved the penny into the slot, replaced the fuse, and shoved the main back into its slot.

"Right, then..." he breathed when the lights came back on. "Reckon I can warm up some sodding blood and play the fucking radio now."

-X-

"SPIKE!" Xander yelled from the basement a couple of hours later. As had become the habit, the gang had gathered at Hawley Manor after school to work on all the unskilled labor type things that needed doing.

The vampire sauntered down the stairs far enough to see his mediocre handyman. "You bellowed?"

"What the hell is this?" Xander demanded, waving a hand at the fuse box.

Spike arched a brow and took a few more steps down. "Tired o' spending good dosh on sodding fuses that just blow every time ya plug something in. Fixed it, I did."

"Fixed? Fixed!" the boy repeated, his voice a screech of indignation. "This is not fixed. This is a death trap! This is flames and cinders! This will make your fire policy null and void!"

Spike huffed out a scoff. "Seen it done a million times... never seen any sodding fires."

Xander sighed and rubbed his eyes a moment before looking back up. "Please do me a favor and don't fix electrical things. I've put too much work into this place for you to turn it into an overblown fire pit, good for nothing but roasting marshmallows. The electrician will be here next week to get it all working."

"How am I supposed to warm up my sodding blood 'til then?"

"Put the microwave on a different circuit! Take it upstairs."

Spike scowled at the boy. "You're a pain my arse."

Xander rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You'll thank me when your stupid house doesn't burn down."

"That's bloody doubtful," Spike sneered, turning to go.

"Ingrate," Xander accused as Spike started up the stairs.

"Git," the vampire returned.

"Snaggle tooth."

"Plonker."

"Putz."

"Lackbrain."

"Doofus."

"Pillock."

When Spike reached the first floor, the electricity went off in the whole house, and he knew Xander was unfixing his perfectly good fix... putting in another sodding fuse.

"What's up with the lack of electrical-ness?" Buffy asked when Spike emerged from the basement. The room was illuminated only by a few candles that Willow had set up to light when the power failed—as it did frequently.

"That fuckwit didn't like my brilliant solution to the bloody fuse problem. Should be back on in a mo'."

Buffy smiled up at him, her face streaked with dust, her hair covered in a bright pink bandana, her clothes splattered with paint. "Why do I feel safer with Xander's fixes than yours?"

Spike rolled his eyes and pulled her in for a kiss. "Pro'ly 'cos you're not as daft as you let on," he admitted before covering her mouth with his.

When the kiss broke, Buffy took Spike's hand. "Come outside with me a minute," she requested, picking her way through the dimly lit room to the hallway and the front door.

Out on the porch, out of earshot of the others, Buffy stopped and turned to face her boyfriend. The moon was fairly bright, and there was a streetlight not far away, so they weren't in complete darkness.

Spike started to pull her in for another snog, thinking that was her purpose, but she put a hand on his chest. "I... I have to tell you something," she admitted, stepping back, and wringing her hands nervously.

His brows furrowed, but he desisted in his advances. "What's the matter, pet?"

Buffy chewed her lip a moment, then started, "Lilith... I... well, today she said she wanted to talk to me, and she basically... I mean, it felt like she was trying to make me break up with you. She said... she told me that she knew who you were, your real last name, and that you'd killed your mother. She said she just wanted to make sure I knew who you were, what you'd done, but..."

"I'll sodding kill her," Spike growled, turning toward the porch steps.

Buffy caught his arm, and stopped him. "Spike, wait... that's not really what I have to tell you."

He stopped and turned back to face her, his brow arched.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably, fidgeting with her sunstone necklace, then took a deep breath and confessed, "I told her that you didn't kill your mom, that you tried to save her. I didn't mean to! I swear! I was just so mad, and she kept saying you'd killed your mom and... and it just came out. I'm so sorry! I never... I didn't mean... I know you didn't want anyone to know, I just—" Buffy's voice cracked, and she started to cry. "I'm sorry. Spike, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me."

Spike sighed and pulled her into a tight hug. He could feel her torment and guilt pouring out as hot tears against his tee. "'S alright, pet. Shhh... be alright. Could never hate you. No worries, now," he cooed softly, running a soothing hand down from the crown of her head to her back, over and over.

He felt a slight pang in his own chest as he soothed her. Slayer tellin' me all and I'm holding back. Not lyin' in the strictest sense, just a bit of a fib... leaving out a few details o' my days. He sighed. There's no help for it, can't back out. That smile on the Slayer's face when she got the dosh... wouldn't take that away from her. Gonna make sure Buffy gets what she deserves. Will be over soon, and the council bird will leave and they'll move on, Slayer none the wiser.

She finally calmed down. Sniffing and swiping at her eyes, she pulled out of his embrace. "I'm so sorry. She just kept harping on about your mom and..."

"Be okay, pet. The bint's more sodding devious than she lets on. Reckon she did that just t' see what you knew... get ya to fill in blanks in her sodding... thesis." Get you to tell her what I wouldn't... get the bloody confirmation without breaking the deal in the strictest sense.

Buffy hiccupped and sniffed again, wiping her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. "And I fell right into it. Stupid Buffy."

He gave her a soft smile, cupping her damp face with one hand. "Were defending me, pet. Means a lot, if I'm honest, that you'd... that you don't want anyone thinking poorly of me, even if I deserve it."

"You don't deserve it... Pretty sure she got that message loud and clear by the time I finished."

Spike's smile widened. "Kicked her arse, did you?"

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Not so much with the actual kicking, but... yeah."

He pressed his lips to her forehead in a loving kiss. "That's m' girl."

-X-

"Hey, there you guys are," Willow said, interrupting what was sure to be an epic snog-fest. "I thought that, since the power's out anyway, I could do that protection spell you wanted now."

Buffy and Spike pulled apart, reluctantly. "Uh, yeah, that sounds good, Wills," Buffy agreed, though she could hear a low growl rumble from Spike. She poked him with her elbow, not looking at him. "What do you need us to do?"

"Just anchor the triangle while I do the spell," the witch explained, turning to go back into the house.

Buffy gave Spike a shrug. "You did want a threshold," she reminded him in a low voice.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, but began following the redhead into the house. Buffy's little sodding friends had the worst timing ever. He was looking forward to forgiving Buffy her slip in the most creative ways possible, and for as long as possible, while simultaneously assuaging his own guilt in the process.

Buffy took his hand and squeezed it, looking up at him with those luminous eyes, making it impossible for him to remain angry with the meddling Scoobies.

"Okay," Willow began, slipping into her 'witch working here' voice. "You stand there," she directed Buffy. "And you stand there." She showed Spike his spot. "You might feel a little tingle... or maybe a little shock, the spell's not super clear, but don't move until it passes."

"If you dust me with this bollocks..."

"No dustiness!" she assured him, then muttered, "I don't think." Willow waved her hand at the old book on the floor. "It just pulls power out of the Earth to bind the spell around the house. It's not exactly a threshold, cos, well, that's a way more complicated, but this keeps out anything that intends harm."

"Oh! Does it keep out mosquitoes? And roaches? Rats?" Buffy asked excitedly.

"Uh... I don't think they exactly have the capacity to form intentions?" Willow hedged as she lit more candles along the lines of the triangle she'd marked on the floor in chalk.

"That's so unfair," Buffy grumbled as Willow handed her a silver dagger and a long sword.

"Maybe I can find something to keep pests out," she suggested, handing Spike a set of weapons that matched Buffy's.

"Best wait on that a bit—need my pesky handyman t' finish up in here first."

"Ha-ha! I heard that!" Xander called from the basement just as the lights all came back on.

Willow poured an offering into a silver bowl in the center of the triangle and set it on fire. It burned a ghostly violet-blue, the flames shimmering with an otherworldly cast.

"Okay, everyone quiet. I'm gonna start," Willow ordered, bending to light two sage smudge sticks. "You two need to cross your daggers, forming a barrier along the bottom of the triangle, and touch the swords to these smudge sticks, forming another barrier along the sides. Whatever you do, don't let them come apart, or it'll leave gaps in the protection."

Buffy and Spike complied, reaching out the daggers toward each other and crossing them, while doing the same with the sword in their other hands, crossing them against the burning sage Willow was holding.

Xander came up and was about to say something, but was quelled by a look from Willow. He backed up, leaning on the kitchen island to watch.

"Soteria, Goddess of safety and preservation from harm, hear my plea.

"Accept this offering, we beseech, that this domain shall remain harm-free.

"Let no malice, living or dead, human or demon, magical or mundane enter, seen or unseen,

"We humbly beseech you, preserve safety and peace within these walls. So mote it be!"

There was a flash of blinding light as the offering in the center of the triangle exploded in a ripping wave of electrically charged air. The three anchoring the spell gasped and shuddered, their eyes rolling back momentarily as a sensation of painful pleasure rolled over them. With straining, quivering limbs, Buffy and Spike managed to keep from dropping their weapons and breaking the circuit, though if the sensation had lasted even another second, they would've failed. All three were suspended, trembling in the shockwave, for just a moment, though it seemed much longer, before the wave rolled past them and audibly snapped into place around the perimeter of the house.

A loud 'CRACK' like thunder echoed through the house as the spell took hold, and Buffy, Spike, and Willow all dropped to their knees, then bonelessly slumped onto the floor, panting for breath.

"Will! Buffy!" Xander exclaimed, hurrying toward them, but stopping short, not sure if it was safe to touch them.

He was assured when Willow, glowing with... something, grinned up at him. "That was... neat."

"Bloody hell..." Spike swore dreamily as Buffy moaned her agreement.

"Should I get you a cigarette or something now?" Xander quipped, frowning down at them.

Spike was already pulling them out of his duster pocket.

"Wowie..." Buffy sighed, rolling over onto her back and reaching one hand out to rest on Spike's stomach.

"Are you sure that was the right spell?" Xander continued. "And also, why was I left out of this magical orgasm orgy?"

Spike, also laying on his back, had gotten his fag lit and was exhaling a long stream of blue-grey smoke. "Be a waste, that. Wouldn't know an orgasm if it came up and shagged you like a porn star," he contended.

"I so would! I'll have you know I've had lots of orgasms with porn stars," Xander defended.

Spike's brows rose and the two girls turned to look up at him with interest.

Xander's face flamed tomato red. "Well, not exactly with in the sense of with-ness, but with, in the sense of... Did you hear that? I think there's something I need to check on in the... uh..." He waved his hands around madly and scurried back down the stairs to the basement, laughter billowing in his wake.

-X-

"You must have a sodding death wish!" Spike snarled after he smashed his way into Lydia's room the next morning, two hours early for their normal appointment. The door frame splintered as the bolts were forced free under his uninvited intrusion, leaving the door swinging drunkenly behind him. "What the fuck was that with Buffy?"

"Spike!" Lydia exclaimed as she scrambled up from where she'd been eating breakfast, pulling her robe tight over her long, flannel PJs, and backed toward the beam of early morning sunlight that was shining in through the French doors. "I... I..."

Before she could get more out, his hand was clamped over her throat, and he had her lifted off her feet, her back pressed to the fragile glass panels of the doors. She scrabbled at his hand and flailed her feet madly, gasping for breath that wouldn't come through her constricted throat. The furious golden eyes of the demon filled her blurred vision, her own eyes filled with tears brought on by pain, fear, and guilt.

"I've literally killed people for less," he growled, his face just inches from hers.

Spike's skin began to smoke where the sunbeams touched the side of his face, but he didn't seem to notice or care. Lydia watched in horrified fascination as his skin darkened, and glowing embers appeared beneath the ray of light illuminating the side of his face, while she continued to struggle to get free. The room began to darken, her lungs ached, and her head spun. She tried to croak out a plea for mercy, but nothing could escape past the vampire's hand as he squeezed the life from her rapidly weakening body.

Suddenly, with no word or warning, Spike dropped her, and she crumpled to the floor, choking and gasping desperately for air, her hands massaging her bruised throat. Spike's boots pounded on the wood floor in front of her, just out of the sunbeam's glare, the motion sending vibrations up through her already quivering body as he paced back and forth in long, angry strides.

"Think I'm bloody daft, do you? Think I wouldn't notice you trying t' get around the sodding agreement? Goin' to Buffy... getting her t' spill stuff that's just between her and me?" he ranted at her, still stomping back and forth. "Well, I'm telling ya right now, I won't stand for it! You do that again and I'll rip your head off and drink from your brainstem! I swear no one will be able t' identify the bits of you that wash up. Do you get me?"

When she just kept sobbing and panting, he stopped and nudged her with the toe of his boot, holding back the kick that he really wanted to deliver. "Do you fucking understand me?" he demanded.

Lydia jumped and squeaked as if he'd delivered a death blow, scrabbling back away from him, still on the floor. "Yes... I'm sorry... yes. I... I..." She'd been prepared to go along with Buffy's theory that she was trying to break them up so that she, Lydia, could gain his affection, but Spike's theory was better—that she'd done it just to get more information, to sate her curiosity and investigative nature. "I simply wanted all the facts, and..."

"And I told you to drop it! You need to fucking drop something when I say to drop it, you dozy bint! Should know who you're dealing with, seeings as you did your sodding thesis on me! Not some namby-pamby, milquetoast ponce! Not gonna sit back and let you do as you please, am I?"

She swallowed, wincing with the pain, but shook her head, her blonde hair flying all around her face. "I was overzealous... I assure you it will not happen again," she promised.

Spike clamped a hand around her arm. She squeaked in fear and surprise when he lifted her up and deposited her back in her chair at the table.

Not squeezing the life out of her had been one of the hardest things Spike had ever done. His hands were trembling now with the effort of not finishing the job, ridding himself of this nuisance, chopping her into messes and feeding her to the sodding sharks. He began pacing again, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides, his duster whirling around his legs at each turn.

He watched her take a shaky sip of water, still rubbing her throat, and wincing as she swallowed. She looked and smelled properly terrorized—covered in fear, tears, and cold sweat—but that just aroused the demon's bloodlust more. Spike fought a war raging inside him, the primal, vampiric urges to protect his mate from whatever this bint was up to, versus the promises he'd made to Buffy. But killing this Council lackey would be for Buffy. But Buffy wouldn't approve.

Protect Buffy!

Keep your sodding word!

I promised to protect the Slayer!

You promised not t' kill ever again.

FUCKING HELL!

His growl made Lydia sink down into her chair, making herself as small as possible. The demon surged at her submissive gesture. The man flashed on a vision of Buffy, heartbroken and furious by something this bitch said to her, swinging her stake at his heart. He kept up his frenetic pacing, three long strides, turn, three long strides, turn... What would Buffy do? What would she want him to do? Not kill. Not kill. Not kill.

Lydia's frightened eyes followed him, back and forth, back and forth, like she was watching some kind of terrifying tennis match. She knew trying to reach her cross or stake was futile, and would only draw more anger from the vampire. She remained very still, very quiet, as if he'd forget she was there and leave.

"What's your sodding game?" he demanded suddenly, whirling to face her, and finally breaking the tense silence. "Know it's not t' get into my pants... offered you that once, purely in jest mind, as I'm already bloody taken, but that stick up your arse wouldn't even let that notion dampen your panties. What's so sodding important 'bout knowin' my fucking name or what happened to my mum?"

Her eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at him. "I... I simply wanted a complete picture..."

"BOLLOCKS!" Spike's hand slammed down on the table, toppling the glasses of juice and water, spilling the liquid over the table and onto the floor, and making all the plates jump and clatter.

Lydia jerked back, lifting her arms to defend herself. "Please! I-I'm not lying. I... I simply wanted the full truth. I-I was simply overzealous."

"Miss Lydia, ma'am, is everything alright?" a timid voice broke in from the open door.

Spike whirled on the newcomer, a pimply-faced Spinodon demon. Despite his yellowish pallor, he looked mostly human since the mohawk-esque ridge of spines and forehead ridges they developed at sexual maturity, around the age of seventy-five, hadn't come in yet.

The vampire growled at the teen, who took a stumbling step back. "She's fucking fine," Spike declared. "Not a sodding hair outta place."

The boy's eyes darted to Lydia, a furrow growing between his eyes. She most assuredly had lots of hairs out of place… it looked like a wild tangle of windblown cotton candy, in fact.

"It's okay, Roger," Lydia assured him, not wanting Spike to take his ire with her out on the young man who had always been helpful. "Just having a… a discussion and we got a bit… carried away."

The demon looked from her to the broken door.

"I'll pay for that… as I said, simply a heated debate. Go along now… everything is quite alright, I assure you."

Roger nodded shakily and backed away. As his footfalls faded down the hallway, Spike turned his glare back to her, his golden eyes shimmering with malice.

Lydia was still trembling, her hands tugging nervously at her robe, shaking visibly. "It won't happen again… I won't approach the Slayer for information about you again," she promised.

Hands braced on his hips, Spike pursed his lips, his golden eyes narrowed as if they could see inside her. Finally, he pushed his demon back, whirled, and strode for the door.

"W-Will you continue our interview?" she ventured tentatively.

Spike's blue eyes sparked with anger as he spun back to face her. "I keep my fucking word, don't I? Not like you lot," he ground out before again turning for the door in a blur of black leather.

"W-Where are you going?"

"Gotta meet the sodding electrician. Apparently, Harris didn't approve of my electrical engineering abilities, so he talked the bloke into comin' today."

"When will... I mean, our interview...?"

"Monday," he growled back over his shoulder as his boots crunched over the splinters of wood scattered on the floor as he got to the door.

"Your face," she called after him. "It's umm... quite burned. Do you want me to—"

"Don't want a sodding thing from you but to keep your fucking word," he informed her as he disappeared down the hallway.

Lydia took a deep, calming breath and sighed it out. Then another. And another. It was easy to forget how good it felt to simply breathe. She looked at the door, the bent hasps, and the broken jamb. She would have to pay for that damage, but it was a small price for her duplicity, she knew. She dragged a chair over to the door and propped it beneath the dented knob to keep it closed, then sat down heavily on the bed.

How had she gotten herself wedged between such a dangerous rock and a perilous hard place? The Council, her father, and everything she'd always believed in on one side, and Buffy, Spike, Mr. Giles, and the Sku-bees on the other. And how was she going to escape with her life, her career, and her soul intact?

-X-

Chapter End Notes:

DO NOT EVER PUT A PENNY IN A FUSE BOX! This is a perfect way to BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN!

I PROMISE on Spike's honor that the road trip to San Francisco will begin in the next chapter! The long, slooowwww burn is getting ready to explode very shortly...

Thank you all for hanging in here with me on this sometimes frustrating journey. I hope it will all be worth the wait!