Resolutions

Author's Note: I must apologise for the delay between updates. The chapter following this one has been giving me real problems and as I always work one chapter in hand I didn't feel confident in posting this one until that one was fit to send off for proof-reading. Writers' block is an absolute bitca, isn't it?

Oh, and I’ve um… ‘borrowed’… some dialogue from BtVS Season 6 episode 18: ‘Entropy’ Written by: Drew Z. Greenberg and some from season 6 episode 19, ‘Seeing Red’ Written by Steven DeKnight. Why try to improve on the work of the professionals when they get it right? Of course I may just have fiddled with some of it to make it better suit my nefarious purposes…


Chapter 14


Spike and Buffy looked up when Tara came in from class, dropped her book bag inside the front door and advanced slowly into the living room. Her eyes widened as she looked around and took in the transformed space. She whispered, “Oh Buffy… it’s so gorgeous! It looks like a completely different room!”


Buffy looked around distractedly and said, “Yeah… I’m not sure about the arrangement yet, we might be shifting stuff around for a while until it feels right…”


Registering Buffy’s apparent disinterest in all the new furniture for which she’d waited so frustratingly long and Spike’s grumpy frown, and the fact that they were sitting on separate sofas facing each other over the chunky new coffee table, the blonde wiccan nervously asked, “What’s wrong?”


Buffy pointed to the black plastic gadget on the table. “Someone’s been spying on us.”


Tara sat down beside Buffy, and was momentarily diverted by the rich soft leather of the chesterfield. She stroked the smooth seat beside her and murmured admiringly, “Oooh comfy!” She then looked up guiltily, gestured at the camera and asked, “Where did you find it?”


“In the front yard, hidden in the creepiest little garden gnome you’ve ever seen. One of the delivery guys tripped over it and presto! One spycam.”


“Do… do you think that’s the only one?” Tara looked around anxiously.


Surprised he hadn’t thought of the possibility himself, Spike met Buffy’s huge startled eyes as she stammered, “I… I never thought…” The two supernatural blondes shot to their feet and began frantically searching every ornament, picture, light fitting and any other place they could imagine a camera being hidden.


Tara let out an inarticulate cry and shot upstairs to her room.


At her sudden departure Buffy gasped, “Oh God! The bedrooms! What if they’ve been watching us…”


As he followed her up the stairs Spike snarled, “You check our room, I’ll do the bit’s room and the bathroom…”


A few minutes later Spike was standing on Dawn’s bed running his hand around inside the lampshade when Tara and Buffy appeared in the doorway.


“Uh, Spike…” Tara began sheepishly.


Buffy rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Get down from there, Daddy bear. Nobody’s been spying on your precious Niblet.”


Tara turned to her and asked incredulously, “Daddy bear?” Buffy explained Dawn’s new nickname for the vampire and the two young women collapsed against each other, giggling.


Hopping down from the bed Spike scowled at them. “Yeah right. Laugh it up at the poor abused vamp’s expense.” He stood with his arms folded across his chest waiting until they’d more or less brought themselves under control before asking, “So how come you’ve suddenly decided there’s no more cameras then?”


Tara blushed. “I’m sorry, Spike. I panicked. While I was going through my things I suddenly realised that nobody could get in to the house to plant any cameras without an invitation. I haven’t invited anybody in and Buffy says she and Dawn haven’t either. Not until the delivery guys today.”


Buffy concluded, “Hence the creepy gnome watching the front door. It’ll have been the only place from where they could keep track of us.”


Tara blurted out, “Oh! Back door!”


Turning to head downstairs at Slayer speed, Buffy cried, “Gonna check the back yard!”


Spike watched anxiously from the open kitchen doorway as Buffy and Tara methodically searched the sun-drenched back garden, poking about among the trees and plants and carefully examining the fence, deck and garden furniture. They failed to turn up anything that looked remotely like a surveillance camera.


A few minutes later they were all back in the living room, sitting glaring accusingly at the camera on the coffee table.


“So… who do you think…?” Tara began.


Spike snorted. “Bleedin’ obvious innit? The Initiative’s still keeping tabs on yours truly.”


Buffy rolled her eyes impatiently. “I told you the first time you said that, Spike. I’ve seen the Initiative’s surveillance equipment. Trust me, if they’d planted a camera it’d be a fraction of the size of that one and we’d never have found it. It certainly wouldn’t have been hidden in some lame garden gnome.”


Spike was reluctant to let his idea go and sullenly demanded, “Well who else…?”


Buffy leaned forward and picked up the camera, turning it over in her hands. She quietly mused, “You know… this looks like the kinda thing they sell on those websites full of nerdy gadgets. You know the kinda thing… ‘How to set up your own home security system and keep a beady eye on the neighbours.’”


Tara breathed, “Nerds? You mean…?”


“Warren and Jonathan and… and that other one. This is just the kinda thing they’d be into. They called themselves my nemesiseses but they’ve been suspiciously missing in action of late.”


Reluctantly accepting that Buffy’s logic was a lot more realistic than his own, Spike asked, “You figure they’ve been lying low ‘cos they’re gearing up to something big?”


Buffy nodded. “And keeping track of my movements so they can keep out of my way.” She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully for a few moments and then with a decisive nod she declared, “We need Willow.”


“You want her to do a tracking spell?” Tara ventured dubiously.


“Nope.” Buffy got up and reached for the phone. “I need Willow to do something only she can do. I need Willow to get back to basics and get with the hacking action to figure out where this thing is transmitting its pictures to, so I can go and kick some nerd butt.”

****

Spike lolled full length on one of the chesterfields idly flipping through the channels on the smart new widescreen TV while Tara prepared dinner.


Willow was comfortably ensconced at the dining room table with her laptop wired up to the camera, Buffy and Xander closely watching her every move.


When she’d arrived at the end of her school day the redhead had been pathetically grateful that she’d been given the opportunity to help. When Buffy had shown her the camera and explained to her what she wanted, the emotionally needy witch had abruptly morphed into the confident computer genius of old and she had got straight to work.


“I should have something once I get tapped into the fiber-optic network. We're going to use the feedback relay to get their signal routed into our system.”


Spike glanced over his shoulder and saw Xander and Buffy exchange blank glances that said as clearly as words… “She’s going to what?”


Time passed slowly as Willow worked. Constantly distracted by the slightest sound from the dining room Spike couldn’t settle to watching any one programme and eventually gave up and switched the TV off.


The tense atmosphere caused the four humans to merely pick at the meal Tara produced as Willow tapped away, occasionally pausing to mutter to herself as she hit a dead end or decided to try a different technique.


Spike delayed his own meal as long as he could until his stomach started grumbling. He reluctantly gave in to the inevitable and heated up a mug of beef blood which he seasoned with his contraband burba weed before gulping it down with a disgusted shudder.


Buffy became more and more impatient as Willows fingers flew over the keyboard and she started pacing from the kitchen to the dining room and back, and then started making the longer circuit through the newly furnished living room as well, occasionally pausing to move a piece of furniture slightly only to shift it back to its original position on the next pass.


Each time she came level with Willow, she paused to look hopefully over at her friend.


Eventually the wait became too much for the Slayer and she came to a halt, folded her arms across her chest and demanded, “Talk to me, Will.”


“The technology's pretty sophisticated. Lots of booby traps and firewall stuff.”


Xander nodded knowingly, “Nerds.”


Willow “Oh, yeah. But, you know, who’s the bigger nerd, the nerd or the nerd who breaks through his defence system?” Realising what she’d just admitted about herself she sheepishly added, “Okay, no one answer that, please.”


“But can you get us a location?”


Willow mused, “I can't help thinking maybe Anya and Gunn were closer than they thought, that day they went out with the addresses.”


“And they sent the Psycho Demon to interrupt them.”


“Makes sense.”


“But can you get me any closer, Will?”


Clearly rather hurt by Buffy’s apparent doubt in her skills, Willow protested, “Well, hey, I'm still me. Just one… whoa!”


“Whoa? Whoa what?”


“There are other cameras!”


As she scowled at her computer screen, Willow’s expert fingers worked on. As one by one new images popped up on the screen she exclaimed, “Oh, my God! The Doublemeat Palace? The Bronze? My classrooms on campus… Xander's site…”


Buffy’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “What?”


“They've been spying on all these places? That doesn’t make sense. Why would they want to watch my site?”


“I can tell there are more feeds. I'm just having a harder time pinpointing 'em. Here, let me…” Willow’s eyes narrowed and she began to chew her bottom lip abstractedly as she continued to battle with the nerds’ labyrinthine programming.


“Here! I think there are a few more transmitters on the network. I just… I've almost got a picture on 'em.”


Several minutes later she muttered, “I think I've got… Right! Here’s the community centre… and that’s Giles’ new house… I don’t know… Oh! Isn’t that Spike’s crypt? And there’s one more…” After a few more moments she grinned and triumphantly declared, “There! Gottit! This one’s inside the Magic Box.”


She suddenly stood up and backed away from the table, staring at the screen in shock. “Whoa!”


Buffy and Xander crowded forward to see what had startled her and Spike couldn’t resist joining them, peering over Buffy’s shoulder at the screen.


Willow noticed Xander’s proximity to the computer and flapped her hands, feebly protesting, “Xander, don't look! Wait, Xander! No!”


“Oh, God.”


“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Willow didn’t appear to be able to think of anything else to say.


“I… what is she…?” Xander sounded utterly bewildered, but as far as Spike could see it was patently obvious what she was doing.


As they watched, Anya who had managed to lose her shirt so she was just wearing a full skirt and a lacy bra, got up from her knees, pushed an unresisting Giles back onto the research table, lifted her skirt and clambered up to sit astride him. They had a clear view of Giles legs, his trousers and underwear around his ankles as the vengeance demon began rising and falling over the Watcher in a rhythm as old as time.


Xander spluttered and choked as he struggled to speak. “That’s just gross! What’s she thinking? Just ‘cos we had a fight last night… She… she’s upset and he’s taking advantage of her while she’s vulnerable. And… and how can she? He’s so old!”


Spike’s scarred eyebrow shot up. “Taking advantage? Bollocks to that. Looks pretty clear to me that it’s Demon girl who’s in control of the action there. Woman knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. As to the age difference, I don’t reckon the Watcher’d mind being her toyboy. She’s never going to find a bloke her own age anyway.”


He leaned forward a bit more and tried to make out the controls of the video window. “Hey, Red. That thing got sound?”


Unthinkingly, Willow sat back down and started experimenting, forgetting the drama unfolding on the screen. “Yeah, there is…” After a few moments she sat back again. “Sorry, I don’t have the right software installed for us to be able to hear it.”


Anya leant forward to kiss the Watcher and his hands shifted, one sliding up her thigh under her skirt and the other tangling in the hair at the back of her head the better to guide their kiss.


The slamming of the front door caused Buffy to finally jerk out of her stunned stupor and hoarsely cry, “That’s enough!”


Belatedly recalling Xander’s distress Willow stuttered, “Here, let me just… you know, we aren't even really sure what we're just seeing here. There could be something…” She glanced up from the computer and noticed for the first time that the young man had disappeared. “Where’s Xander…?”


Tara turned from her place at the window and said, “He’s gone.”


Buffy asked anxiously, “Please tell me he didn’t take any weapons…”


Tara shook her head. “No, it’s okay. He isn’t even going towards the Magic Box, he headed off in the opposite direction.” Everybody visibly relaxed. “Sh… shouldn’t someone go after him?”


Willow shook her head sadly. “No. He won’t want to talk yet. He’ll want to be alone for a while. We’ll just have to be there for him when he’s ready…”


Spike shrugged. “Dunno what’s got his knickers in a twist. She dumped him ages ago. The girl’s got a right to move on.” He added bitterly, “It’s not as if they were still together and she deliberately started shagging someone else right in front of him while he was helpless to stop them or even get out of the bloody room.”


Willow raised startled eyebrows at Buffy who mouthed, “Dru and Angelus,” back at her.


Nodding in understanding, Willow turned to look up at the vampire. “Even so, Xander still loves her. It has to have hurt to have seen that…” She gestured at the computer screen that was now ominously blank.


“In that case he’s probably gone to get hammered. That’s what I’d do.”


“Hammered?”


“Pissed.”


“I think he’s already angry.”


Spike sighed in frustration. “Hammered as in pissed as in bloody drunk!”


Buffy sat at the table and wearily rubbed her hand over her forehead. “Will, please tell me that despite all the unexpected… live porn… and I think I’m going to have to steam-clean my eyeballs to get rid of those images… you can tell me where the nerds’ hideout is.”

****

It was late in the night when Buffy and Spike stumbled in through the front door of the Summers residence, their arms full of an untidy mass of books, papers and computer discs. Buffy was complaining loudly about her leather jacket that had a neat slash cut across the front when Spike shushed her and nodded towards the living room.


Tara and Willow were stretched out fast asleep on the twin chesterfields with the TV playing away quietly to itself in the corner. The gangly kitten was curled up on Tara’s stomach. There were a couple of soda cans and an empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, evidence that the two young women had tried to stay up to wait for them.


Smiling, Buffy quietly tipped her load of nerd stuff onto the dining table and gestured for Spike to do the same, then she took the warm colourful throws from the backs of the sofas and carefully laid them over her slumbering friends as the kitten woke and noticing his master’s return, jumped down, stretched and padded up the stairs to his rightful sleeping place.


After switching the TV off and turning the lights out, she took Spike by the hand and led him upstairs. Within minutes they were snuggled in bed, too tired to do anything but sleep.

****

Spike was torn from his dreams by a shrill noise and Buffy apparently trying to push him out of bed.


“It’s for you. Willy…” She thrust the phone into his hand and snuggled back down under the covers.


“What?” He snarled into the receiver. “Who?” He scrubbed his hand over his face to try and wake himself up. “Well what do you expect me to do about it? I’m not his sodding keeper.”


Flinging the receiver back in the general direction of the phone’s base, Spike tumbled out of bed and groped around for his jeans.


“What’s wrong?”


“Your heartbroken carpenter friend. That’s what’s wrong. Went and got hammered all right. At bloody Willy’s of all places. Now he’s got a pack of Makas demons all primed and ready to take him back to their nest for what the weasel calls ‘unspecified purposes’. Willy figured we’d want to make sure he got home… unmolested.”


“Should I come?” Even as she made the sleepy offer, Buffy snuggled further down into the pillows and pulled the covers up so high only her hair remained visible.


As Spike sat on the side of the bed to pull his boots on he conceded, “Nah. No point in us both losing sleep, Slayer. I’ll cart the pillock home and be back before sunrise.”


As he approached the entrance to Willy’s Spike took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and assumed his ‘Big Bad’ attitude. He swaggered through the door and straight up to the bar where a more than usually nervous Willy was polishing a glass with a filthy rag and drawled, “You rang?”


The weaselly bar owner muttered, “Oh, thank God you’re here. It’s not my fault.” He pointed across the dark room to where a figure was slumped against the wall in one of the back booths. “Every time I think he’s passed out and try to take the bottle away from him he wakes up, threatens to stake me and starts drinking again.”


Spike critically regarded the young man who was sitting cradling a half-empty bottle of whiskey to his chest. Xander had been drinking fairly heavily for the past few months and from experience Spike knew that it would take more than half a bottle of whiskey to cause the effect he was now seeing. “And how many bottles has he had?”


“Uh… that’s his second…”


Heaving a resigned sigh, Spike realised that it would take some effort on his part to persuade the morose Scooby that it was time to pack it in and head home. He grabbed Willy by the front of his shirt and dragged him half over the bar. “Give me a bottle of JD. On the house.”


“But…”


“You want me to get him out of here alive without smashing the place up? ‘Cos that could be arranged…” He released the grubby shirt and wiped his hand on his jeans, taking the bottle Willy reluctantly held out.


Crossing the room he vamped out to strip the plastic sleeve from the bottle top with a razor sharp fang and as he slid into the booth opposite Xander Harris he snarled at the group of fuzzy little demons who were hovering around the table, “This one’s mine. Go find your own.” With flawless aim he flicked the coil of plastic into the eye of the closest demon and opened his bottle.


He resumed his human face to take a healthy swig as the Makas scuttled away in defeat. Leaning forward he roughly nudged the carpenter’s shoulder and asked, “Hey Harris. What we drinking to?”


Xander opened one eye and regarded him blearily. “’pike.”


“Yeah. Know who I am.” He tipped his bottle up and gulped down another few mouthfuls, feeling the false warmth spreading through his body. “I said, who’re we drinking to?”


“Anya…” Her name came out like a sigh. Suddenly feeling talkative, Xander sat up a bit straighter and leaned forward, whispering confidentially, “She was boinking Giles, you know.”


“Yeah, mate I know. Caught the show. Good show too, shame there was no live sound.”


“Oh gross… the visual was enough for me…”


Remembering his earlier comparison to his own experience with Drusilla and Angelus, Spike had a flash of fellow-feeling with the young man. “At least she wasn’t going at it with him knowing full well you were watching… and not bloody caring.” He slumped in his seat dejectedly and ran his forefinger around the top of his bottle. “Making the bed shake so much you nearly fall out and have to cling on to the headboard until they finish and wander off for round two somewhere else…”


Xander nodded sympathetically, “Dru and Angel?”


“Yeah.” He muttered bitterly, “The cautionary tale of William the bloody pathetic, the wheelchair months.”


After giving that disturbing revelation the respectful pause it deserved, Xander complained, “She dumped me and moved on to Giles.” Tears started trickling unnoticed down his cheeks. “How could she do that? I know I screwed up… but Giles? He’s so… so old!”


“Phht! He’s a mere babe compared to her. ‘Sides, he’s not so old he can’t keep a woman happy.” Cocking his head to one side thoughtfully Spike suggested, “Perhaps she fancies him ‘cos the Watcher accepts her for who she is and isn’t trying to change her all the time?”


Nodding slowly, Xander said, “That’s what she said. She said I kept trying to turn her into a Buffy clone.”


“Did you?”


“Dunno. Didn’t think I was… but maybe…” With the exaggerated care of the truly sloshed, Xander raised his bottle and took a mouthful. “It’s just… she could be so embarrassing, you know? At first it was ‘freshing, her bluntness and the way she got things wrong. It was amusing, ya know? I ‘joyed helping her work it out. But when it went on and on…”


Spike nodded wisely, “It got embarrassing…” He pretended to take another drink, then thought, ‘what the hell’ and took a deep draught of the smooth alcohol. “Thing is… you don’t go and marry someone who embarrasses you… however gorgeous they are.”


Xander smiled groggily. “Gorgeous…” He heaved a big sigh and admitted, “I was so scared…”


“Scared?”


“Who’s scared?”


“You said you were scared.”


“Did I? I expect I was. What was I scared of?”


“Dunno, mate. You didn’t say.”


“Oh.”


There was a lull in the conversation for a few minutes while both men concentrated on their bottles, then Xander suddenly confided, “I don’t think I could have gone through with it, you know.”


“What?”


“Huh?”


“Couldn’t have gone through with what?”


“The wedding. I had these visions of me turning out like my dad and hurting her the way my dad hurts my mom…” He shook his head very carefully. “I wasn’t ready, ya know? I was trying to figure out how to tell her when she called the whole thing off.”


“She did you a favour, then lad.”


“Kinda. Thing is, I wasn’t ready to get married but I wasn’t ready for her to move out either.” He whined pitifully, “Why couldn’t things have gone on the way they were? I was ready for that…”


“Well that’s women for ya. ‘ve watched enough soaps to know you get to a certain point in a relationship and they demand…” The vampire shuddered dramatically, “…commitment.” Seeing Willy gesturing urgently at the clock above the bar, he nudged the young man who was threatening to pass out again. “You ready to go home yet, mate?”


“She’s not there.” The childish pout looked totally out of place on the burly carpenter’s face.


“No, she ain’t. Willow is though. You like Willow, don’t you?”


“Yeah… Willow’s my friend.” Xander reverted to his confidential whisper, “She’s gay, you know.”


“Yeah right. That’s what she says!”


“Huh? She is, she said so. She’s in love with Tara…”


“Doesn’t make her gay, just makes her in love. She was in love with the wolf too wasn’t she?”


“Oz. I miss Oz.”


“See… not gay. Bi. She falls for the person, not the gender. Daft bird just hasn’t figured it out yet.” He struggled to his feet, feeling just a bit more unsteady than he expected until he remembered that he was working on very little sleep and nearly a full bottle of Jack. “Come on, Harris. Let’s get you home…” He hooked the hand that wasn’t clutching his bottle under Xander’s armpit and levered him to his feet.


When the fresh pre-dawn air hit the human’s system his knees buckled and Spike needed all his supernatural strength to keep them both from ending up in an untidy heap on the ground. He hooked the taller man’s free arm around his neck and grasped the hand on his shoulder, braced his hip against the tottering body of his companion, leaned forward slightly to cause Xander to take his first automatic step in an attempt to keep his balance and utilising the momentum thus gained, set off at a steady stagger.


When a short while later a heavy head landed unexpectedly on his shoulder, Spike shrugged it off and decided he was going to have to do something to keep the overweight young man conscious long enough to walk under his own power unless he was prepared to carry him all the way home. Which he wasn’t.


He started talking again. “Hey, Harris. What do you generally do to make yourself feel better when a bird dumps you? Can’t have got sloshed every time, you’re not old enough for that…”


A warm alcoholic sigh wafted past Spike’s face making him grimace in disgust. “Country music. The music of paaain.”


“Yeah? I s’pose even that depressing crap has to be good for something…”


Spike nearly fell over from shock when out of the blue Xander took a deep breath and started bellowing into his ear, “I fall to pieces, Each time I see you again I fall to pieces, How can I be just your friend?”


“Bloody hell…”


“Sing with me, Spikey… You want me to act like we've never kissed, You want me to forget, pretend we've never met…”


“Not a bleedin’ chance. I may be dead, but I still have good taste in music…” The vampire muttered grumpily, determinedly lurching onward.


Despite his initial resistance, by the time they reached the entrance to the apartment block where Xander lived, Spike was inevitably bawling along with his inebriated companion, “I fall to pieces, Each time someone speaks your name, I fall to pieces, Time only adds to the flame…”


Breaking off to peer myopically at the bank of labelled pushbuttons beside the front door, Spike quickly gave up trying to find the one marked ‘Harris’ and gleefully pressed them all in turn. As he expected the action was greeted by a chorus of irate voices and the anticipated buzz-through and impatient, “Quit that racket and get up here,” from someone who was apparently unsurprised to have visitors dropping by unannounced at such an ungodly hour.


“Which floor, mate?”


“Three.”


As the lift rattled upwards the load resting on Spike’s shoulder got heavier and heavier until the customary ping signaled their arrival at their floor. Finding his drinking buddy to be totally unresponsive to his attempts to move forward, Spike tucked his bottle safely into his duster pocket, prized the almost empty one from Xander’s grasp, slipped it in beside his own and grunted as he hefted the unconscious body onto his shoulder in a firemen’s lift.


Spike followed his nose to the door of the Harris/Rosenberg apartment and with exaggerated care lowered his cumbersome load to the carpeted floor. Straightening up rather unsteadily, he placed a thumb on the doorbell and leant against it.


When nobody came to answer the door after a couple of minutes, Spike belatedly remembered that Willow was currently fast asleep in the Summers’ living room and not therefore available to let them in.


“Bugger.” Sliding down the wall, he ended up sitting beside the human who was slumped against the door. “Keys!” he suddenly realised. “You gotta have some keys somewhere…” He clumsily began going through Xander’s clothing and quickly found a heavy bunch of keys in the pocket of his pea coat.


It didn’t take long for him to find the right key and unlock the door, which immediately flew open allowing Xander to fall back into the apartment. The comatose man grunted and rolled over to curl up on his side, snuffled into the carpet and began to snore loudly.


Spike started to move into the apartment to lug the drunk over onto the couch.


He first became aware of a potentially serious snag in the proceedings when he bounced back against the far wall of the hallway.


Under the force of Xander’s not inconsiderable weight the door had opened wide with the keys still dangling from the lock and his subsequent movement meant that he was now fully inside the apartment.


The problem was that as he had never been there before, Spike had never received an invitation. Consequently he had no way of reaching past the mystical barrier at the threshold to retrieve the keys from the lock or grasp the handle to pull the door closed, let alone any way of making Xander Harris comfortable.


“Oh balls.” Rubbing his bruised head, he slid down the wall again and retrieved his bottle from his pocket, taking a swig to try to kick start his brain into action and come up with the solution to his dilemma.


He briefly considered leaving the idiot where he was and going home, but he had the sneaking suspicion that that solution wouldn’t meet with anybody’s approval. He scrubbed his face with his hand and muttered to himself, “What would Buffy do?” He tried to take another drink but found his bottle empty, so he reached for Xander’s. That was when his hand fell upon the cellphone that had taken up almost permanent residence in his duster pocket.


“Aha!” He stuck his tongue out to help him concentrate as he very carefully pressed the appropriate buttons. As soon as he heard Buffy’s sleep-slurred voice he demanded, “What would you do?”


“Huh?”


“Got a problem, Slayer. Asked meself ‘What would Buffy do?’ ... so what would you do?”


“Are you drunk, Spike?”


Spike grimaced guiltily and nodded.


When she got no audible response Buffy sighed wearily, “What would I do about what, Spike?”


“Got the carpenter home, got him into his flat, can’t close the bloody door.”


“I don’t understand, Spike.”


“Thought Red was going to be here to look after him. Forgot she was at our place.”


“No, I mean why can’t you close the door?”


“Not invited.”


“Huh?”


“Can’t reach in past the barrier to get the keys or close the bloody door.”


“Well, get Xander to ask you in!” Spike clearly heard her mutter irritably under her breath, “Idiot vampire.”


Spike held the phone out so she would be able to hear the stentorian snoring echoing around the hallway, then brought it back up to comment, “Ya hear? Pillock’s gone and passed out on me.”


Growling in frustration, Buffy summed up, “So you’re at Xander’s apartment, he’s inside but he’s passed out drunk so he can’t invite you in and the door’s still wide open with the keys in the lock and you can’t reach them because of the barrier. Is that it?”


“Yeah, that’s about the size of it Slayer. What do I do?”


Heaving a long suffering sigh, the sleep deprived Slayer resignedly directed him to, “Stay where you are, I’ll be right over.”


Spike cheerfully settled down to finish off the last few mouthfuls in the bottom of Xander’s bottle as he waited for his beloved Slayer to arrive and fix everything.



******

Spike shuffled his feet awkwardly. “You sure you don’t want me to patrol with you, Slayer?”


“Absopositively certain. After last night… well let’s just say I’d appreciate some quiet alone time.”


“I’m so sorry, Buff. If I’d have known Willy was going to call you…”


“Just be thankful he did, Xander. If he hadn’t… well I don’t know what those Makarios demons wanted with you but it’s unlikely it would have been a hootenany. Just promise me that tonight you’ll both be on non-alcoholic drinks.”


Xander started nodding enthusiastically but then winced and went a greener shade of grey as he raised a hand to his temple. “Oh ya. This head has had enough anvil action for one lifetime. No more alcohol therapy for this broken hearted builder.”


With Buffy’s glare turned his way, Spike raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me, I was the one on the mission of mercy, remember?” When that familiar challenging eyebrow went up he raised a finger and pleaded, “Just one beer?”


Buffy rolled her eyes and conceded. “One. And only one.” She gestured into the dining room where Tara and Willow were sitting at the dining table which was piled high with nerd stuff. “Just be sure to be back here in a couple hours to help Will and Tara go through all this. Giles said he might be over later to help.”


Xander suddenly looked even sicker and Willow looked up in alarm. “Buff! Please tell me you told Giles about… well... you know…”


Buffy grimaced guiltily. “Weeeell…”


Tara put in reproachfully, “Oh Buffy. We really should tell him. He should know about the cameras…”


Buffy nodded brightly. “Oh I told him all about the cameras and the nerd stuff… or almost all…”


Spike snorted. “You chickened out of telling him about the Magic Box camera, didn’t you Slayer. He still doesn’t know about his debut starring role on the Nerds’ Live Porn Channel.”


Buffy flushed. “Well I was going to… honest. But when it came right down to it…”


Spike chuckled and nodded smugly. “You chickened out!”


Buffy’s shoulders slumped. “I so totally chickened out.”


Tara hesitantly suggested, “Perhaps one of us could tell Anya…?”


Buffy turned to her eagerly, “Ooh! You’re voluntee…?” Seeing the blonde wiccan frantically shaking her head and hunching down in her seat she finished dejectedly, “…or not.”


Taking her cellphone from her pocket she turned it end over end in her hand as she ushered Xander and Spike towards the front door and in a resigned tone promised, “You boys go do your male bondage thing and while I’m waiting for the call to collect Dawnie as I’m patrolling, once I’ve figured out what to say I’ll give Anya a call. She won’t have any trouble telling Giles...”


Spike sniggered and waggled his eyebrows at Xander. “Come on, Harris lets go. Do you want to tie me up or would you prefer to be totally at my mercy for a while first?”


Xander shuddered. “Please… joke me no homoerotic jokes when I’m feeling this rough… or indeed ever.”


Buffy looked between them in bewilderment until Spike raised an eyebrow at her and teased, “Male bondage?”


Blushing furiously, Buffy pushed them both out and closed the front door behind the three of them. “You know I meant bonding… male bonding!”


Spike merely sniggered as he swaggered off towards the Bronze, Xander Harris at his shoulder, while Buffy headed off in the other direction to begin her patrol. “Whatever floats your boat, Slayer. Whatever floats your boat.”

****

Spike tottered along, the weight of the warm arm around his shoulders having become an almost familiar sensation. It was a virtually identical situation to the night before, except that this time they were both stone cold sober.


“Oh man…” Xander moaned. “Next time someone insults Anya and impugns my masculinity, remind me to take a moment to recall I don’t have supernatural strength and reconsider my options.” He coughed painfully and begged, “Give me a minute…”


Spike stumbled to a halt and leaned Xander back against a handy tree. While the human was gasping for breath and tentatively feeling around his already bruised and swollen jaw, his painful chest and what was looking suspiciously like a broken hand, he took the opportunity to straighten up and stretch, hearing bones creaking and crunching as they pulled back into their customary positions.


“Oh gross, what was that noise?”


“Ribs reconnecting…” The vampire groaned, as he prepared to shove his dislocated shoulder back into place. He cautiously approached the opposite side of the tree from Xander’s resting place, poised himself at the precise angle and rammed forward, letting out a wordless cry of pain as the joint popped back in. The relief was immediate and he sighed as he stretched and flexed his arm.


“Can’t believe I got so thoroughly trashed by a single punch from a bloody human,” He grumbled. “Didn’t even get a chance to return the favour!”


Xander started chuckling then hastily reconsidered as he winced in pain. “You should have seen your face… When you went flying clear across the room into that pillar, I’ve never seen you look so surprised!”


“Wonder what he was on…?”


“I have no clue…” Xander grunted as Spike tucked himself back under his arm and they lurched back into motion. “Buffy needs to know though. The nerds are well and truly back in circulation and Warren’s not holding back.”


They’d progressed a bit further when Spike abruptly swore, “Bugger.”


“What?”


“Left our stakes on the edge of the pool table.” He ruefully complained, “Didn’t even get a chance to finish me sodding beer…”


“Wonder where they shot off to in such a hurry?” Xander gasped. “Jonathan couldn’t stop looking at his watch. If it wasn’t for him nagging Warren…”


“I’ve a bad feeling about this. Something’s gonna go down tonight…” Spike panted. “Hope the girls have deciphered some of that crap we collected to give us a clue what and where.”


When they finally reached their refuge at 1630 Revello Drive, Spike shouldered through the front door and led Xander straight into the living room where he deposited the bruised and bloody human on one of the chesterfields before heading straight around to the kitchen.


As he was searching in the freezer, Willow was in the living room exclaiming over Xander’s injuries and Tara was hovering anxiously in the kitchen doorway. “I thought you were going to the Bronze? Were there demons?”


Expertly crafting an ice-pack, Spike responded, “We did. No bloody demons, though. Just one crazy human with crazily enhanced strength.” He concentrated for a moment and felt Buffy upstairs. “Buffy back already?”


“Yeah. She’s hurt too. She said she got shoved into a headstone and got bruised in the same place she was last time. She’s gone to soak in a hot bath.”


Nodding in acknowledgement, Spike took the ice-pack around into the living room. He placed it briefly on the coffee table while he carefully felt around the young man’s jaw, pronounced, “S’not broken. Here…” and then placed it against the side of his face, pulling the Xander’s uninjured hand up to hold it in place. “There. That should help with the swelling.” He ignored the mumbled thanks and went straight back to the freezer to make up another ice-pack which he took upstairs.


He opened the bathroom door and walked straight in to the steamy room, causing Buffy to squeak with surprise. “Relax, you should have known it’s only me, Slayer.” He closed the door behind him and approached the bath which was full of hot water, bubbles and Slayer. “Here… lean forward a bit.”


When Buffy sat up slightly he brushed the hair away from the back of her neck and rested the ice-pack there. Holding it in place he instructed, “Now lie back…”


Releasing a contented little moan as she got resettled, Buffy peered up at him through the steam as he sat on the closed toilet lid. “Blood,” she said shortly.


“Yeah. I’ll get some in a minute.”


“No, you have blood on your face.” She frowned. “Did you guys get into a bar fight? I know I said you two should bond, but there are better ways…”


Pulling his t-shirt off and leaning back, Spike finally had the time to feel around his painful ribcage to check for damage, which apart from a few deep bruises had thankfully already mostly healed. “Wasn’t what you’d call a regular bar fight, Slayer.”


He sighed and began his tale of the evening’s events.


“So you really think they’ve got something planned for tonight?”


“Certainly looks that way. Can’t think why else they’re out of hiding and testing robot boy’s prowess.”


Buffy sighed, pulled the plug and stood up. “Hand me that towel please.”


As she started drying off she finally managed to get a good look at her Mate. “Oh God! You’re all black and blue and bloody!”


Spike peered down at his chest and gently prodded at it. “Yeah, I think a rib or two came through the skin.”


Wrapping her robe around herself, Buffy gestured at the empty tub. “Have a hot shower and get into some clean clothes. That’ll make you feel better. I’ll have some blood ready for you and we can see what the others have found out.”


As he went downstairs fifteen minutes later Spike was in time to catch Willow explaining, “We were able to decipher pretty much everything except these.”


Tara added, “It's not written in any ancient language we could identify.”


He came into the dining room and saw Xander who was now sitting at the dining room table with the girls, pick up the sheaf of papers indicated and chuckle self-consciously. “It's Klingon. They're love poems… which have nothing to do with the insidious scheme you're about to describe.”


Buffy asked, “What have you got that doesn't rhyme?”


Tara indicated a couple of the data CD cases, only one of which had a disc in it. “These.”


Willow picked up the intact one and explained, “This one is full of encoded blueprints and schematics, but it’s as if they got so far and then just… stopped. Nothing’s finished.”


Tara put in, “At first we thought they were looking to hit a whole bunch of banks, armoured car routes, corporate vaults...”


“Yeah it seemed they were really aiming to score mucho dinero. But then it’s as if they suddenly changed their minds and dropped the whole scheme. The data hasn’t been updated for weeks.”


Willow dropped it and held up the empty disc case and told Buffy, “Now this one is more recent…” She gestured at her computer. “It’s heavily encrypted and I only just got into it before you came down.” She chewed on her lip as she started working through the data on the disc, skimming each file briefly before going on to the next.


After drinking the blood Buffy had warmed for him, Spike watched for a few minutes with the others as Willow worked. He found the process singularly boring. After a while he gravitated towards the big new TV in the living room and sat flipping idly through the channels.


He was shortly joined by Xander Harris who commented, “All the best shows seem to be over. Generally all you get this time of night is lame old movies and infomercials.”


Spike glanced up at the clock and his scarred eyebrow went up as he realized just how late it had become. “Slayer!”


Buffy appeared in the doorway. “You yelled?”


“Is Dawn supposed to be out this late? Hasn’t she got school tomorrow?”


Buffy shrugged, “I haven’t gotten the call yet.” She frowned when she saw the time and murmured dubiously, “Dawnie has her cellphone. She’d have called if there was anything wrong…”


Xander put in ominously, “If she could.”


Buffy dug her own cellphone out of the pocket of her sweatpants and dialed. “Perhaps I’ll just check in with her…” As she waited for a response Spike could feel her anxiety levels skyrocketing. When in a shaky voice she announced, “She didn’t answer. It’s gone straight to voicemail,” his own worries increased to match.


Quickly crossing to the desk, Buffy referred to the piece of paper where Janice’s phone number was noted and dialed again. When she asked Janice’s mother if Dawn was ready to be picked up, the answer she received shot sheer terror through Spike’s being and he unthinkingly leapt to his feet and wrapped his arms firmly around his Mate from behind.


After making an excuse and hanging up, Buffy stood motionless for a long moment before flatly relaying the message she’d received. “I think Ms Penshaw thinks I’ve lost my mind. She didn’t understand why I was calling… because I picked Dawnie up over two hours ago. They were about to call me but I said I was just passing and dropped in on the off chance. When it turned out Dawnie was ready to go…” She took a deep breath. “…I brought her home in my boyfriend’s Big. Black. Van.”


She let out a little giggle tinged with hysteria. “She said she was surprised I’d broken up with ‘that gorgeous young man with the motorbike’ and started dating someone who was geeky enough to paint the Star Wars Death Star on the side of his van.”

TBC

The song Xander and Spike sing is:
"I Fall to Pieces"
© Tree Publishing Co. (BMI)
Written by Harlan Howard and Hank Cochran
(Recorded by both Jim Reeves and Patsy Cline in 1961)