Spike had been on Serenity for three weeks when the wave came.
"Monty, old friend! How are ya, mate?"
The demon smiled at him.
"Not too shabby, Spike. And yourself? I hear you're travelling with a possy now. Time was you travelled solo."
Spike shrugged.f
"Man's gotta have company. What can I do ya for?"
Monty grinned.
"Got a message from the Higher Powers for you. Got a new slayer they want you to pick up on Diamer."
Spike looked thoughtful.
"Diamer. That's one of the Inner Planet moons, isn't it?"
Monty nodded.
"Think you can get your new friends to take you there?"
Spike smirked.
"I can do anything."
"Oy, Cap, can I talk to you?"
Mal looked up from Serenity's controls.
"Don't fathom why not."
Spike threw himself into River's co-pilot chair, stretching his legs out.
"I need to high me to Diamer. Can that be possible? Might be a job in it for you."
Mal looking thoughtful.
"What kinda job?"
"Running something for a friend of mine to some Rim planets. Cargo is highly illegal but not dangerous. You interested?"
"What's in it for you?" Mal asked suspiciously.
Spike smirked.
"I've gotta spend a couple of hours in Diamer. Got a job there. Won't take long. By the time you make contact and pick up the goods, I'll be back." He crossed his arms over his black leather duster.
Mal squinted at him.
"Mind if I ask you, Spike, but what're you doing here?"
"Here on the bridge, or here on Serenity, or here in the universe? Cuz I've been asking myself that last one for a long time now."
"Here on Serenity," Mal clarified.
Spike shrugged.
"You're a good lot to fall in with. Long as I can go to jobs when I get summoned, I won't mind travelling around with you."
"That's another question," said Mal. "Who do you work for?"
Spike shrugged again, enigmatically, in answer.
"See, that worries me," said Mal. "I can't fathom where your loyalties lie."
Spike's angular features darkened.
"Not sure myself. I'm not Alliance, if that's what you're worried 'bout. But I'm not a browncoat either. I'm smart enough to stay away from wars when they spring up," he smirked. "But other than that, I'm all ambiguity. It makes me more mysterious." Spike glanced towards the door with an affectionate smile. "River thinks I'm a white hat. I hope she's right."
Mal drew in a breath.
"River's like a sister to everyone on this boat. Now I know she's a grown girl, and she makes her own decisions, and I know the doc already talked to you, but she's been through more than you could imagine, and if'n you hurt that girl in any way I will kill you my own self."
The smirk had dropped from Spike's face. He nodded once, solemnly.
"I know how special River is," he said. "How good. Too good for the likes of me."
"Finally," said Mal, stretching. "Something we can agree on." He got up out of the pilot's chair, placing a dinosaur figurine that had been in his lap back down on the dashboard. "We can go to your moon. Set up the job."
"Shadows falling over faces. Knives glistening in the dark," River tightened her grip on Spike's arm, and looked up at him with her dark eyes. "Better with two."
"You can stop looking at me with those soulful eyes of yours, luv," Spike said, not without affection. "You're not coming with me."
"Could help," River pointed out.
Spike drew her close to him, kissing her thoroughly. He let his tongue skim over her lips, tasting her. She was so sweet. He could never get enough of her. He buried his hands in her dark curls and pulled her closer, as if to merge them into one being. When she was breathless, he pulled away, resting his forehead on her's.
"I have to do this one alone, River, luv," he said softly.
River allowed a smile to pull at her lips.
"You don't fight fair."
"Never claimed to," Spike replied. "You'll alright while I'm gone?"
"I'm going to revert to my former state of madness until you return," River declared.
Spike let out a bark of laughter.
"You do that, luv. I like you just the same when you're crazy as when you're sane."
River grabbed the lapels of Spike's coat, and with surprising force pulled him down to her, crashing her lips over his for another searing kiss. Spike thought his blood might have been set on fire.
"I know," she whispered.
"Bloody woman," Spike murmured into her lips. "You're going to be the death of me."
River grinned.
"Two can play at not fighting fair," she said.
"I've taught you too well," said Spike ruefully.
"This I knew before," replied River.
"Saucy minx."
With the greatest reluctance, Spike pulled himself away from River, out of her arms.
"I'd better go now, pet, or I'm not going at all," he said.
It almost broke his unbeating heart to leave her standing there alone on the gangplank.
Spike set off through the thronging crowds. Bright lights flashed at him from all side as huge screens advertised shops and restaurants and fruit bars. A whore, a low class one without a thousandth part of Inara's grace and beauty, beckoned him but Spike waved her off. He had places to be, and River's kiss was still burning on his lips.
Managing to look unobtrusive, Spike slipped down a darkened alleyway. His vampire eyes immediately adjusted to the low lighting, making it as clear as day to him. A rat scurried by, and Spike's mouth watered.
He paused, sneering at himself. Hungry? Over a rat? It really had been too long since he had last fed. Since he had started travelling with Serenity, in fact; since he had met River. It was a good thing he was going now.
With sure steps, Spike walked to the deserted doorway and pushed it open.
The small shop was dim and cluttered. Far away, a bell rang, announcing his entrance. Spike took a deep, unneeded breath. There was something about the smell of magic shops, the sage and spices, mixed with the dust from books and the smoke from candles, which reminded Spike of the Magic Box back in Sunnyhell. It reminded him, just for an instant, of a time when he hadn't carried the crushing burden of guilt that he now wore like a second skin.
From the depths of the shop, a wrinkled Chinaman appeared. He squinted through the gloom.
"Spike? That you?"
"How are ya, mate?" Spike asked, leaning casually against the counter.
"I thought you were dead," the proprietor of the store said, peering at Spike accusingly. "Eva Parker had it going around you were dead."
"Sorry to disappoint," said Spike. "But rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated. You can tell Eva Parker that it takes more than a few rocks to kill me. But we're not here for chitchat. I assume you still have it in stock?"
The Chinaman knew what Spike was referring to instantly. He reached behind the counter, and pulled out a small packet, which he tossed to Spike.
Spike caught it, inspecting it carefully.
"The good stuff," the Chinaman promised. "Grade A."
"All tastes like chalk anyhow," Spike replied. "This had better be the good stuff, not that rubbish you sold me last time."
The Chinaman smiled.
"I've had no complaints."
"I just complained."
The Chinaman shrugged.
"How much do you want?"
"How much have you got?" Spike asked.
"Three cases."
"All of it."
The Chinaman raised an eyebrow.
"All three? That's a large order, even for you."
"Picked up a ship," Spike said. "Gunna be off the grid for a while. I need to stock up."
"It's going to cost you," the Chinaman warned. "Powdered blood ain't cheap."
"Pony up," Spike said, by way of reply.
After Spike left the shadowy shop, leaving instructions where to send his cases of powdered blood, he headed straight to the nearest demon bar, and drank his fill of liquid blood. He didn't know when he would have it next, so he savoured every mouthful of the five pints he drank.
"Hungry, fella?" asked the barkeep.
Spike grinned at him, showing all his razer-sharp teeth.
"You have no idea."
Feeling pleasantly full, Spike hurried back into the bright lights of the main street. He had an appointment to keep.
The girl was sitting quietly by herself in the yard. Around her, the trees were in bloom, and stray petals drifted down around her like snowflakes. She was a slight thing with long, dark hair and large eyes. She reminded Spike of his River, a little. His dead heart gave a pang, but he shrugged it off. No use getting all emotional when he had a job to do.
The girl looked up as he approached her.
"Are you Spike?" she asked.
Spike nodded.
"That's right, pet."
He sat down on the bench beside her.
"I've heard about you," the girl said, her voice quiet and soothing. Spike supposed they taught Companions how to do that, lull a man with just their voices. Her tone was passive, but her hands were balled into fists in her lap. "You're less frightening than I though you would be."
"You're less spirited than I thought you would be," Spike replied. "I've known some slayers in my time, and usually they have a bit more fire in them."
The girl looked up at him for the first time, and there was anger in her dark eyes, fury behind her mask of calm indifference.
"There you go," Spike jeered. "That's a start."
The girl turned away, hiding her anger.
"My house mother told me you were a vampire, a blood drinker. Is that true?" she asked.
Spike smiled, showing all his teeth.
"It truly is."
"And you can bring me to the Watcher's Council? And they will cure me?"
Spike examined the girl. She was young, perhaps only 14 or 15. But she had probably never been outside the Guild House since she was first brought here as a small child. His contact in the Companion's Guild kept him informed of slayers who appeared within their ranks, about five or so a year.
The girl's face was as white as a sheet, and just as empty. They had trained her well. Spike felt a pang of sympathy for her. Her life was about to change drastically.
"Being a slayer isn't something they can cure you of, pet," he said gently. "It's a part of you now. What's your name?"
"Meilin," she replied.
"Come on, then," Spike said, jerking his thumb towards the street. "We've got a long way to go."
Meilin picked up the flimsy cloth bag filled with all her worldly goods, and followed him without glancing back once at the only home she had ever known.
They walked in silence.
"If I may be permitted to speak?" she asked politely, breaking the quiet between them.
Spike glanced down at her, holding back a chuckle. Her training was showing again.
"You don't ask permission from no one, girl. Not any more."
Meilin thought about this for a moment, and then nodded.
"Alright. Then I have a question. If I am a vampire slayer, and you are a vampire, does that not make us natural enemies? Why are you helping me?"
Ah, so she was bright. Spike smirked.
"You could say I'm the Council's oldest employee. They'll teach you lots of stuff about us vamps at the Summers Academy, pet, and one of them's that vampires don't have souls. They're demons living inside human bodies, no soul to be found. 'Cept me. I won my soul back a long time ago. Been at the Higher Powers' beck and call ever since."
"You won your soul back?" asked Meilin. "But why?"
A shadow fell across Spike's face.
"To be worthy of someone," he said.
"Spike! Three crates came for you!" Kaylee greeted him as he returned to Serenity. "I put 'em in the galley."
"Thanks, pet," Spike said. "How'd the job go?"
River, getting up from her place sitting beside Kaylee on the lowered ramp, made a face.
"Captain says if you ever send us on another job, he's going to cut off your head and use it for a soup bowl."
Spike winced.
"That bad, huh?"
River smiled.
"We got the goods, in the end." She came forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You came home to me."
"I always do," Spike replied, kissing her quickly. "There's someone I want you to meet. River, Kaylee, this is Meilin."
The slayer held back, looking on awkwardly as Spike greeted his friends.
River pulled away from him.
"You made a new friend?" she asked. Hurt and jealous flashed over her face. Quickly, Spike ran through his encounter with Meilin in his head, emphasizing that she was a charge, not an interest. River smiled as she saw these things, allowing Spike to pull her close to him again, resting her head on his chest.
Meilin gawped at them.
"It's rude to stare, you know," Kaylee told her primly.
Meilin continued anyway.
"Are you… like him?"
"No," said River. "A girl, like you. Human."
"But you know what he is?"
River pulled away enough to look in Spike's face.
"Yes," she said. "I know."
Meilin's face was a picture of disgust. Spike tried not to let it hurt him. He'd seen that look before, on another slayer's face, long ago. But none of that mattered now.
"Cap'n says we're leaving in five minutes," Kaylee chirped.
River pulled away from him, and held out her hand to Meilin.
"I'll show you around," she offered.
Mal wasn't happy about taking on an impromptu passenger, and was immediately suspicious that Spike was running some sort of human trafficking ring. But after a discussion with Meilin, he let it pass. Meilin took an instant liking and almost hero worship of Inara for the three days that she was on board. Inara seemed to find it amusing, much to Spike's relief.
"The poor girl!" she said. "She's being moved to another chapter, and she's terrified about it." Inara peered at Spike. "How did you get involved in the Companion's Guild?"
"I have contacts everywhere," Spike replied vaguely. "They contract me out to do jobs."
Inara shook her head.
"Poor girl," she said again.
In the end, Meilin was fine. Spike passed her off to a Watcher's Council representative at the Beaumont chapter of the Summers Academy.
"You'll be fine, pet," he assured her. "These are good people, and they'll know how to help you."
"What if I don't want to be a slayer?" Meilin asked, her anxiety showing.
"You will, once they train you up a bit," Spike promised. He handed her bag to the watcher who had come for her. In five hundred years, watchers hadn't changed much. They were still stuffed shirts.
"Take good care of her, or I'll here of it," he threatened.
The watcher swallowed audibly.
"I will, Mr. Spike, sir."
Spike nodded, and with a final wave to Meilin, set off back to Serenity.
"Saved another one," River said, her fingers tracing idle patterns over his bare chest. "Rescued another lost soul from the darkness."
"Ironic, wouldn't you say," said Spike. "Me being a creature of darkness and all."
River's dark hair was tickling his nose. He brushed it away, pulling the blanket up over both of them.
"You may be a creature of darkness," said River. "But your soul is so bright."
A stab of affection and – dare he say it? – love, welled up in his chest for the tiny girl who lay across him. He had once won back his soul for a love like this.
For Buffy he had gained his soul. For River, he would make it clean again.