Chapter 1
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Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Same goes for any characters from Angel
that should appear. Any other characters are mine and may be used for other
fanfic (Just note that they’re mine if you use them.)
Content rating note: This fic is rated PG-13.
Continuity note: This story takes place immediately following
the Buffy episode “Showtime” and diverges into AU from there. This story is
also a rewrite of post-Showtime season 7 and the prequel to Summer Vacation. Some of the things that happened
in post-Showtime season 7 may happen to some extent (and with liberties taken),
and others…not so much. I used www.buffyworld.com
as my resource for any dialog and such that I kept from the episodes.
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1
When Buffy arrived home with Spike, battered and cut from his torture by The First, all the other members of the household had bedded down for the night. She had instructed them to, not wanting to make a show of Spike’s entrance. She got Spike through the door and led him to the stairs.
“C’mon, let’s go up to the bathroom and get you cleaned up,” said Buffy.
Spike fell behind a step and looked up at her as she trudged him up the stairs. But she didn’t look back. She got him to the bathroom door and he balked. “I don’t want to go in,” he said.
“No, it’s okay. I had it redecorated. It’s like a whole new bathroom. I mean, those old white tiles were getting dingy and couple of them were chipping off and I’ve wanted those lights for the mirror for ages, and a shower door is so much nicer than just a curtain. I was fine with how it was, but Xander got a bonus on his job in the summer and offered to have it done for me. Who am I to turn down a free new bathroom?”
Spike looked down at the now yellow-tiled bathroom floor and paused.
“Besides,” she said, walking over to the sink. “It wasn’t really you anyway. You didn’t have a soul then. You can’t be held responsible now,” she said, running water into a basin and grabbing a washcloth.
He looked over at her, still outside the door. “Can’t I? I feel responsible,” he said.
“But you aren’t. It wasn’t you.”
“I still feel like me, Buffy. It’s not like I can go back to being just William again. Got the demon. Got the memories. Got all the changes I’ve been through. Only difference is the conscience and the reevaluation of my entire undead existence with it.”
“That’s a pretty important difference, in my book,” Buffy said, pulling a stool out to the center of the bathroom. “Why would you want to go back to being just William, anyway? If you were bad as a human, what would the point of that be?”
“Yeah…I wouldn’t have figured there would have been much point in me getting the soul in the first place, if that were the case,” he said, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut tearing up.
Buffy paused, looking at him from her place by the stool. “So, when you were telling me about your human past, you were, what? Full of crap? Why am I not surprised,” Buffy said, attempting to smile. “So…what’s the real scoop?” she asked, walking over to him.
“I was a good man. Kind of a goody-two-shoes, actually. A wuss,” Spike said, smiling slightly.
“Ah, suddenly it all makes sense,” she said, holding out her hand for him to take.
“Yes, a goody-two-shoes romantic poet does not a good demon make,” he said, taking Buffy’s hand.
“Romantic poet?” she asked, sitting him down on the stool. “I like poetry.”
“I don’t write anymore; I’m never writing again, and I won’t recite any of my old poetry for you, so forget it. You wouldn’t like it, anyway. Trust me.”
“Awww,” Buffy said. Then her face turned serious as she prepared to get down to business. “Well, let’s assess the damages.” She gave him a quick look over and noticed some blood on his pants. She bent down to inspect them and found that there were bloody cuts all along the sides and backs of his legs. “What did they do, drag you over broken glass??”
“Jagged rocks, actually.”
Buffy sighed. “We’ll have to treat these too,” she said. “I can get someone else, Giles maybe, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. You’ve seen me naked so many times it doesn’t matter anymore. I would like a hand towel or something, though.”
“Sure,” Buffy said. She grabbed a hand towel from the shelf and unfolded it. “Got some modesty too now, I guess.”
“It would appear so.”
“Here, I’ll hold it up and block my view of the good stuff,” she said, doing just that as Spike slipped his pants off. Spike closed his eyes and chuckled as she draped the towel over him.
“The good stuff?” he asked, still chuckling a little.
Buffy blushed. “Sorry. Foot, meet Mouth.”
“Ow, hurts to laugh,” he said, still smiling.
“Sorry.”
Buffy went back to the sink counter to fetch the basin and washcloth. As she turned back around, she caught sight of Spike’s back. It was all cut up. Hello, jagged rocks. Buffy placed the basin by Spike’s side and came back around to the front. She put her hand to the side of his face and examined it. “At least your face doesn’t look too bad,” she said. “I’ve seen it look much…worse.” The last word came out slow, and Buffy saw, in her mind, Spike’s face beaten and bruised even worse than its current state. Buffy froze.
(You don’t…have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you! You are dead inside! You can’t feel anything real! I could never…be your girl!)
(You always hurt…the one you love, pet.)
“Buffy?”
(I behaved like a monster)
“I was a monster,” Buffy whispered. She blinked and twin tears trickled down her face. Then Buffy withdrew her hand and picked up the washcloth. She had wounds to clean. A job to do. Buffy wrung the washcloth, twisting it.
“Buffy…”
(Am I flesh? Am I flesh to you? Feed on flesh. My flesh. Nothing else. Not a spark.)
A few of Buffy’s tears dripped into the basin.
“My wounds can wait,” Spike said. “Tell me what’s on your mind, pet.”
Buffy looked up, eyes brimming. “I know you’re suffering now, for what I did to you when you were soulless. But can you tell me…now that you have a soul and you know what it’s like to not have one…Can you tell me…were your feelings real? Did you have them like you do now?”
Spike made a sound that was something in between a sigh and a laugh. “All except guilt. And I even got a taste of that one, in the end. I blame the chip for that one. But all the others….yes. I may suffer more now, because I can feel the wrongness of it, but I still suffered then. It still messed with my head. I didn’t realize it, but now I can see that it did. What is it that made you so pigheaded on that point, anyway? What had you so convinced that a soulless vampire could never have ‘real’ emotions?”
“Angel…” Buffy said, her voice wavering. “Angel couldn’t feel when he was soulless. He even said so.”
Spike chuffed. “That bastard. No, no he couldn’t…‘cause he wouldn’t. He rejected his humanity entirely. But that was his choice. I guess I was just too damn sensitive to do that.”
“Oh,” Buffy said, looking down. Then she stood up and asked, “But…how could you really love me? How could it not be sick? I mean, you fell in love with me because I beat you up.”
“No I didn’t. I fell in love with you because you’re Buffy. I’ll admit I got off on the lighter beatings and the fighting, but that’s not why I loved you. And I preferred you good. I didn’t have the Buffybot programmed to be evil, if you’ll remember. And I only wanted to drag you down into the dark so that you’d be with me, because I’d take you any way I could get you.”
“That’s kind of pathetic,” said Buffy, giving him a slight smile.
“No one ever said love was dignified.”
Buffy nodded and then took a breath. “How can you still love me?” she asked. “After all I’ve done? Now that you realize the wrongness of how I treated you with my soul still intact?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of forgiveness?”
Buffy burst into tears. She cried for a minute before finding her voice again. “I haven’t even said I’m sorry~! And Xander and Dawn still think I’m the complete victim, when you’re my victim too~!” Buffy said. “And I can’t tell them! I just can’t~!”
“Shh, shh. I’m not asking you to. I haven’t said I’m sorry either.”
“But you don’t need to~. I’ve seen you change. I’ve seen how you’re changed. I know you wouldn’t have done that with your soul.”
“It’s not like I didn’t have free will. I wasn’t some robot, programmed to- So, I still feel sorry. For everything,” he finished, a tear sliding down his face.
“I’m sorry~ I’m sorry too,” Buffy cried, bending down and hugging Spike as she cried into his shoulder.
Spike was taken slightly aback and couldn’t decide whether to put his arms around her or not. Then he noticed the stinging. “Buffy, you’re kind of pourin’ salt in my wounds, here.”
“Because I said I’m sorry?!” she asked, standing upright.
“No, because your tears are salty.”
“Oh.” She sniffled. “Oh. Let’s get you cleaned up then.”
Buffy collected herself and re-wet the washcloth. Then she began cleaning Spike’s wounds, top to bottom. It took all night to get him cleaned and bandaged up. When they were finally done, Buffy brought him some fresh clothes and led him down to the basement.
“Here. I set up a cot for you,” Buffy said, indicating a fully made army cot that she had set up under the chains on the wall.
“Thanks,” said Spike.
Buffy helped him ease down onto the cot and then she tucked him in. “Do you want me to bring you some blood?”
“No, thanks. I think I just want to sleep now,” he said.
“All right. I’ll bring you some in the morning, er, evening, then,” Buffy said.
Spike smiled.
“Okay. Goodnight, then,” Buffy said.
“G’night,” said Spike, his eyes drooping shut.
2
After Spike was healed up well enough, Buffy enlisted his help in training the gaggle of Potentials. His assistance was met with mixed reviews. Some of the girls were happy to have the cute vampire help train them, and others were afraid of being eaten. And thanks to Andrew, more than a few enjoyed gossiping about the past relationship of the ‘vampyre’ Spike and the Slayer Buffy.
The training program went smoothly for a few weeks, with Spike as a Training Vampire and Xander as Puffy Xander, up until a kerfluffle with Dawn. Upset with her own training being cast aside, Dawn blew up one night and demanded that she be trained with the other girls. To her surprise, Buffy agreed and even offered to train anyone else who wanted to learn. “I can always use more canon fodder,” Buffy quipped. Andrew jumped at the chance, and Buffy immediately regretted her decision.
Soon Buffy had her troops patrolling the graveyards and streets of Sunnydale, with her and Spike as coaches and backup. After a few mishaps and near deaths, the girls promised they would do better…if only Buffy would stop making speeches when they had close calls.
“We’ll train three extra hours a day!” promised Kennedy.
“Are they really that bad?” asked Buffy, looking around the group.
“They make me want to bleed out my ears,” said Dawn.
“I disagree,” said Andrew. “I find them inspiring. But maybe they would sound better in Klingon.”
Buffy sighed. “All right, no more speeches,” she said. And there was much rejoicing.
3
Spike sat against the living room wall, watching Willow gather ingredients for a Potential-Finding Spell. He and Buffy were supposed to chase after a Potential-finding ball of light, and return with whatever girl it landed on. According to the coven, the girl was supposed to be in Sunnydale.
“I’m a little nervous, guys,” Willow said. “I know it’s a pretty simple spell, but the last spell I did went really, really wrong and it was supposed to be a simple finding spell, too.”
“Yeah, but that was a First-Evil-Finding Spell. And with this one, we’re looking for good,” Xander said. “Bound to be less volatile.”
Willow managed a smile for Xander, and then went back to preparing her spell.
“Hey, guys,” Buffy said, walking into the room. “I just got a call from Giles in Shanghai. He’s found that Chao-Ahn girl and is on his way to the airport with her now. With the three he brought in earlier this week and the ones we’ve already got, this house is reaching maximum capacity. One of these days, the fire marshal is gonna shut us down. How’s the spell going, Wills?”
“All ready. I’ve got my lil’ cauldron, my tumbleweed, my eggs, my chrysalises, my snakeskin, and the map I enchanted to track her basic location (in case you and Spike lose the ball of light thingy)” said Willow. Andrew picked up the snakeskin and made a hissing noise. Then he dropped it after receiving a death-glare from Willow.
“Hey, you know what would be fun?” asked Anya. “Let’s take bets on whether we need Willow’s map or not. I bet fifty dollars we’ll need it. Anyone want a piece of my action?”
“You’re betting against us?!” Buffy asked.
“I’m insulted,” Spike said, standing up and placing his hand to his chest.
“Any takers?” Anya said, waving some bills in the air.
“I- I’d bet on Buffy and Spike,” said Andrew. “Except I don’t have fifty dollars.”
“Then what good are you?” said Anya.
“I’d bet on Buffy, too…except I don’t have any money either,” Dawn said.
“Stop wagering if you don’t have any money! It’s like teasing!” Anya said.
“Here, Ahn,” Xander said, slapping fifty dollars down on the table. “I’m in.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Willow sighed. “Okay, get ready guys,” she said. Buffy and Spike stood together while everyone else settled down on the couch or in a chair. Willow threw each ingredient into the cauldron as she recited the spell’s incantation. When she was done, a brilliant ball of light formed and flew out of the cauldron. Then it went through the front door and down the street with Buffy and Spike in hot pursuit.
“See, Wills. No problem,” Xander said. “You didn’t even go all black-eyed.”
“Yay~ Go me,” Willow said in a slightly shaky voice.
“You go with your bad self, girlfriend!” Andrew said, with three snaps of his fingers.
Everyone gave him a look, except for Anya who added, “You go, girl!”
“Heh,” uttered Willow.
4
Buffy and Spike flew down the street after the ball of light. They were both keeping good pace with it until Spike got a sharp pain in his head. He slapped his hand to his forehead and stumbled down an uncovered manhole. Buffy had leapt over it, but tripped when she turned her head back towards the great splashing sound of Spike falling into sewer water. “Oof!” Buffy said, as she fell to the pavement.
“Bloody hell!” Spike said, his voice wafting up from the sewer.
Then Buffy and Spike heard a young girl scream. Buffy rolled over and hopped to her feet, while Spike climbed up the sewer ladder with vampire speed. They looked over and saw a young girl sitting on the sidewalk a yard away, her chest aglow with a brilliant light. Buffy ran over to her and Spike followed, after he shook himself off.
“It’s Amanda!” exclaimed Buffy.
“Who?” asked Spike.
“She’s a student from the high school. She was sent to me for counseling earlier today,” Buffy said.
“What’s happened to me?” Amanda asked, attempting to brush the light off her as if it were lint.
“Uh, it’s a long story. Why don’t you come over to my house and I’ll explain the whole thing,” Buffy said, offering her hand to help Amanda up.
5
After explaining to Amanda that she was a Potential, Buffy got her settled upstairs with the other girls. Then she called Amanda’s parents and told them that Amanda had been chosen for a special ‘outreach’ program and she would be attending Buffy’s ‘special camp for troubled teens.’ Amada’s parents were happy to have Buffy take her off their hands and Buffy marveled to Willow at the gullibility of the citizens of Sunnydale.
“I guess the ability to look the other way is a necessity for a lot of people when they live on a Hellmouth,” Willow said. “You know, ‘cause otherwise they’d be having nervous breakdowns all the time.”
Buffy smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “I think I’m gonna check in on Spike before I head to bed.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Buffy,” Willow said, and then headed upstairs.
“Goodnight,” Buffy said, and then she made her way to the basement. Spike had already shackled himself up for the night and was reading a book. “Gonna sleep in your clothes?” she asked.
Spike lowered his book. “House full of teenaged girls? I thought I might.”
“So you’ve heard about Xander’s little shower incident.”
“Yeah. He should’ve locked that bathroom door.”
“That’s what I said,” Buffy said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Somethin’ you wanted to discuss, luv?”
“No, just wanted to say goodnight.”
Spike smiled at her. “Thank you. Goodnight, Buffy,” he said, looking at her with reserved adoration.
Buffy looked down at his shackled wrists. “Listen, you haven’t been triggered since that night. It’s probably safe to unshackle you.”
“Probably isn’t good enough,” he said. “Until we're sure the First is done making me its bitch, either we're together, or I'm on the leash. It’s safer this way.”
“Okay, goodnight then,” Buffy said. Then she got up and went upstairs, looking back on her way and wishing that she hadn’t allowed things to get so ugly last year.
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To be continued
Grrrr! Arg!
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