Quid Pro Quo

Chapter 13 – The Past is Never Completely in the Past

Spike hated to lose sight of Buffy and Nina. He was worried about Nina, whether she was okay, if she was injured, but he trusted Buffy would take care of her. But bugger, he was worried about Buffy, too. Of course he could write it off as concern for a comrade in arms, but that just wasn’t true. No denying it anymore. Double bugger. He was concerned for Buffy, the woman. Trying to shrug it off, Spike walked back towards the main chamber, but only made it a few steps before turning back. He joined Angel to watch the girls until they were out of view and then the two males stretched out their senses to check on them as long as possible.

Buffy tried to concentrate on the search, but she felt like there was a string stretched between Spike and herself that was being pulled thinner and thinner, trying to pull her back to him. And that wasn’t good. Definitely not of the good to get too attached to him. At least not yet. She loved him. She had gotten used to leaning on him for strength in Sunnydale, but he was making it loud and clear that he no longer loved her. No, she refused to believe that. He had loved her all through the years that she hated him, treated him like trash. And she knew, just knew that he still loved her. She just had to remind him, the hard-headed fang face. Regardless, she could feel her eyes tearing up just thinking about the situation. Time to change the channel. She looked over at the pretty blonde walking next to her. “Nina. So, how did you meet Angel?”

Nina’s smile was bright enough to light their way in the tunnel. “I was bitten by a werewolf. Angel tracked me down and gave me a place to stay on the full moon.” She looked over at Buffy. “You can’t believe how much I looked forward to full moons so I could see him. Finally I was able to talk him into breakfast, and things progressed from there. No offense, but thanks. I’m glad he didn’t see you in Rome and that Andrew sent him away.”

Buffy laughed softly. “No offense taken. I’m happy for Angel and for you. I just wish…” Nina would never know Buffy’s wish. “Look…” Holding up her lantern, Buffy pointed towards the wall. “There’s a handprint. Yay me!”

Nina was already turning around, “I’ll go get the guys.”

Nina must have flown, Buffy surmised, because she could hear them returning at a fast pace. Spike and Angel must have made it through the demon changing chamber without anymore grrh. As she waited, she looked at the carvings closest to the handprint. “Reborn for a goddess.” She wondered what in the world that meant.

When everyone was together, Buffy pointed out what she had found.

“Reborn for a goddess?” Angel thought it sounded interesting but didn’t know what it meant.

Spike took it a face value. “Hera, Aphrodite?”

Everyone thought for a minute. Finally tired of the tension, Buffy knew that she wasn’t very good at puzzles, but she could eliminate people. “Well, Nina has already had her turn, so she’s probably out of the running. Me? You could probably say that my being resurrected was a type of being reborn.”

“But who was the goddess?” Nina asked.

Buffy shrugged. “That’s it. Willow resurrected me, but as much as I love her, she isn’t a goddess.”

Spike slapped Angel on the back. “Batter up, peaches.”

“Me? No! Reborn, yes in a way, but Darla was absolutely, positively not a goddess.”

“Got to agree there, brood highness.” Spike paced from one wall to the opposite wall, “but that would leave me. Drusilla was no more a goddess than Darla.”

Biting her lower lip, Nina thought she had a possible solution but hated to say. “But wait. It says ‘made for’ not ‘made by.’ I once heard Illyria ask Spike about the trials you went through to get your soul back. She asked you if it was so horrific and supposedly impossible, why did you do it? You were quiet longer than I had ever heard you before you replied. ‘I did it for a goddess.’”

Everyone looked at Spike, who was intently inspecting his boots.

After listening to Nina, Angel knew who the “goddess” must be and that Spike wouldn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t help a little ribbing. After all, the blonde vamp had only gone through three weeks of insanity compared to his decades. His grandchilde could take some teasing. “Spike, do you want to share with the class, or do you need to write it down and pass a note?”

At that point, Buffy knew. When he had returned from winning his soul, he had told her in his own convoluted way. He had told her that it was for her. She had a hard time swallowing over the lump in her throat. She was his goddess, at least back then if not now. And he was going to have to admit it --not just to himself, but to everyone. Buffy decided that that was a good thing.

Nina was getting impatient for Spike to confirm the story. “Spike? Who?”

Now Spike was looking at the wall mumbling. “Bumph.”

“Who?” Buffy asked, anxious to hear him speak her name. Maybe, just maybe this would remind him of how much he used to love her, and maybe those feelings would come back to stay.

There was a long pause, and then they had to strain to hear his voice. “Buffy.” Spike looked up, and his eyes sought out hers. “Buffy was my goddess.”

Angel had suspected as much. Ninety-nine percent sure actually. Nina’s smile grew from a slight tilt of her lips to her teeth showing as her gaze darted between Spike and Buffy, and what she saw gave promise. She wanted Spike to be happy and she made an educated guess that Buffy was the only one who could do just that.

Buffy continued to stare at Spike who had now turned his back on everyone again. By his stance she knew he was feeling some thing he didn’t want seen. Could he still feel the love? Could she still be his goddess? Dare she hope? Yes, she hoped. Oh, how she hoped, but she wasn’t cracked enough in the head to think he was about to stand there and admit it.

“Oh, balls, I was the fool back then. Let’s just do this.” Spike wanted to take the coward’s way out and hide from view. ‘Don’t think this backpack will give me enough coverage,’ he thought with a snort. He finally turned back to them, walked over, slit his hand so that blood dripped, and slapped it on the imprint.

*****

As the four stepped simultaneously through the portal, they unexpectedly stopped in a row, frozen in place in a wide doorway facing what appeared to be a large, spacious greenhouse. Funny how each felt compelled to stand still and let quiet prevail, but it was true.

Because of the dim light, Buffy could tell that it was night wherever they’d ended up this time. There were three rows of plants in front of them, and to the right was an extensive work table with a couple of chairs tucked underneath.

As if mesmerized, Angel stepped into the room and stopped at the far side opposite the table. Buffy again felt a compulsion to stay still, but she stood amazed. Before her eyes, Angel’s hair grew out to his shoulders, his long coat turned from black to a charcoal with thin stripes, and his shirt’s ruffled cuffs peaked out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike also take a step forward. Instantly worried for him since she still didn’t know what was going on, she tried to take a step with him, but couldn’t. Why not? She just couldn’t. She tried to call out but was unable to do even that simple act. When Nina didn’t mover either, Buffy assumed she was in the same predicament.

Spike’s transformation was even more bizarre than Angel’s. His black jeans and black t-shirt was replaced by a brown suite. His hair also grew out but not as long as Angel’s and was in disarray. However, the biggest difference to her was that the white-blonde hair dye was replaced by an undoubtedly natural mousy brown. He looked so completely different in this guise, it really threw her for a curve, but she got it. She was looking at the past. This was not Spike; this was William. And she didn’t know for sure, of course, but she guessed that Spike wouldn’t want to be seen this way by her. Regardless, she soaked up the additional information about her love, gathering insight. She watched entranced.

In what appeared to be a daze similar to Angel’s, Spike walked over and stood in front of the work bench, and as if on queue from a film director, the scene began.

Angel’s face contorted in fury. “Give up, boy.”

“I’m not your boy, and I’m not giving up.” Spike took a defensive stance, hands balled into fists at his side.

Realizing another difference, Buffy noticed that William’s accent was very unlike Spike. His words retained a British accent but was now crisp and clear. Actually they fit his new look.

Catching her attention again, Angelus growled. “Boy, don’t cross me tonight. Even with those kills littering the parlor, I’m not of the spirit to take your insolence. I didn’t come all this way to Spain to miss such a tasty, Spanish treat.”

Nina was fighting her immobilization more than Buffy. She got it, too. Angel had told her about just this scene. The men were in Spain, and Nina assumed that this little show connected them to Mexico through Spain’s influence on that country. That had to be the connection as was the Mayans that connected them to Mexico. But what she hated through and through, was watching Angel revert to such a vicious demon that she knew he hated with his whole being. She knew this just as that he would hate for her to see him that way. And even worse, she just knew that if she could get to him, she could help.

Seemingly unperturbed by the older vampire’s anger, William held his ground. “Then be happy with what you’ve had, Angelus.”

“I’m never happy with anything concerning you. Listen to you. You’ve slipped back into your pansy accent, William.” Angelus wasn’t sure which ate at William more, being called a pansy or being caught using his upper class accent. What he was sure of was that either one would goad a reaction out of the young vampire, and it did.

Spike saw Angelus through a red haze. With a roar as a battle cry, he rushed his grandsire.

Buffy watched as Angelus ducked Spike’s first punch, and using his shoulder, lifted Spike up and flipped him into the closest row of plants. Spike was up as soon as he landed and back at Angelus again. To Buffy, it was obvious Spike’s fighting skills had not developed anywhere near far enough yet to take on the older vampire, let alone win. It was Spike’s heart that gave him any chance to survive. Buffy cringed as the brunette landed two punches and then a third round house punch which sent Spike to the ground. When Angelus started walking towards the worktable, Spike grabbed at his ankles and held on, tripping the irate vampire to the floor.

As Angelus fell, a small motion under the worktable caught Buffy’s eye. Squinting, she could just barely make out a small child, a girl judging from her lacy, white skirt.

Changing to his demon façade, Angelus pointed at the girl. “What, William, you are fighting me over that? She’s nothing, William.”

His grandsire kicked Spike in the face, but Spike absorbed the blow and still held on. William shifted into game face. “You’re not going to turn her.”

Buffy cringed. Evil and hate charged the air with an underlying scent of compassion from Spike.

Angelus lashed out with his shoe again, but Spike was able to move out of the way this time. “William…” The name came out a growl.

Spike spit his words out. “I’m not William, and I am no longer that pansy poet. I’m Spike, and you’re going to leave the lass alone. I don’t care if Darla wants to give the girl as a fledgling to Dru for a living doll. You’re not turning her.”

Angelus scoffed at the younger vampire. “Just because your attempt at turning your mother was a failure doesn’t mean this will be. Besides, not only will I enjoy it, unlike you I will do it right.”

Nina was horrified. Angel had told her about Angelus, but seeing him was different. The demon was evil personified. No restraint whatsoever. But who was she to talk? Once every month, she changed into a killer that had to be locked up. At least Angel has his demon locked away all the time.

Spike was able to gain his feet and get between Angelus and the young girl again. “At least kill her instead of turning her. A three year old would never understand our existence.”

Buffy felt like crying. Turning a three year old? Sick-o to say the least. And her heart went out to Spike. She realized how much he was going against his demon’s cravings to let the girl slip away.

“William, the bloody awful poet’s sensitive side in you is coming out again.” Angelus started to circle to Spike’s right. “What are you going to do? Write her a poem? That would scare her to death.” Angelus lunged, but Spike had been expecting him, ducking under and getting a punch in himself. Regardless, Angelus started beating on him. “You’re weak, boy, but I love fighting you. Do you want to know why?” He connected with a kidney punch, knocking Spike to his knees. “You just keep coming back for more. Never give up and that way I get to keep beating on you.” As predicted, Spike struggled to his feet. “And this time, after your beating, I get to turn this little baby girl.” Angelus slowly stalked the girl.

Spike picked up a hoe and moved to hit Angelus on the back of the head. As his hands swung down, the hoe turned into a deadly, golden sword. Angel and Spike were back to their present selves. Regardless of the change, Spike had swung half way down with fury still clouding his eyes. He raised the sword back up again, and Buffy could tell that he wanted to lop Angelus’ head off right then and there. Even worse, Angel looked up at him and made no move to save himself. Guilt was written all over his face. But when the portal opened up behind Buffy and Nina, Spike seemed to deflate. He lowered the sword, and a somber group of four walked through the portal.

As before, they stepped into a new room in the temple where their back packs and lanterns were in the corner. All made a move to collect them except for Angel. His eyes were glazed over.

Spike walked back to him and shook him out of his stupor. “You knew what we were. Why be surprised?”

Angel looked down at his shoes. “I forgot how much I tried to change you, make you a killer and only a killer.”

Shaking him again, Spike tried to clear his throat. For some reason, he needed his grandsire to understand. Angelus had been a right bastard, but he had had an evil agenda of his own. “I didn’t want to be William.”

Looking up at Spike, Angel’s eyes conveyed his understanding. “But you were. You never killed children.”

After the few words passed between the two men, they shouldered their packs and disappeared into separate tunnels.

Left behind, Nina looked over at Buffy and shrugged. “I guess they want to be alone.”

“I think you’re right.” Buffy sat down and unrolled her sleeping bag. “Why don’t we get some rest while they mope.”

*****

TBC

Thanks to Megan_Peta for pushing me in a good direction, and thanks to everyone who reviewed this story. I am really iffy about this one, and your comments sincerely help.

With that said, please review again. : )

Dana