Resolutions

Chapter 4


Buffy jumped up onto a tall headstone to get a better view. Balancing on one foot she swung the other leg to spin herself around so she could scan the moonlit cemetery. She murmured petulantly, “Here vampy, vampy.” She raised her right hand and twirled her stake to demonstrate her eagerness for a fight. “Oh come on, where are you? Really want you to meet Mr Pointy…” When the night remained still and silent she quietly sing-songed, “Come out, come out wherever you are…” She lifted her free leg and added wistfully, “Look, I’ve even got my smart new kicky boots on ready for you.”


Spike sat on a nearby headstone and watched her with a smile as he puffed on his cigarette. She was so adorable when she was this playful, even though he could tell that the display was mostly a cover for her inner turmoil.


Looking down at him Buffy pouted. “Guess the vamps don’t want to play here tonight. Time to move on to the next cemetery.”


She hopped down and Spike fell into step with her. He commented, “It’s been quiet a lot lately.” He noticed the direction they were going and asked, “Isn’t this the way we went the other night?” He frowned. “And last week too…”


Still focussed on searching their surroundings Buffy absently answered, “Well yeah, it’s Thursday.”


“What’s that got to do with anything?”


“If there’s nothing special happening that I have to take care of, this is the patrol route on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. I drop into the Bronze then end up at Restfield. Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays I start in Shady Rest and work across to the old High School taking in the late night shopping at the mall and end up at Willy’s. Saturdays is the Bronze again, the warehouse district and closing time at the cinema.”


Stopping for a moment to gape at her in disbelief, Spike pleaded, “Tell me you vary that routine?”


Turning to regard him curiously Buffy shrugged, “Not so much. After the whole Adam thing Riley was at a loose end so he organised my patrols to make them more efficient, so I could cover the whole town using the least time and energy.” She smirked mockingly. “There were diagrams and pie charts and everything.”


Spike rolled his eyes impatiently as he realised what was happening. “Well no bloody wonder it’s been quiet. It’s not mindless animals you’re hunting, Slayer. They may be morons but even vamps will catch on to a regular habit sooner or later and take care to stay away from where they know you’re gonna be. I’d wager there’s a veritable rising convention going on over in Shady Rest tonight.”


It was Buffy’s turn to stop and gape. Sheepishly she murmured, “Whoops?”


Spike rolled his eyes in disgust. “Typical military thinking… regulate yourself rigid and forget the other guy isn’t gonna want to fit in with you. Thought you were smarter than that, Slayer.”


“He was so proud of himself for coming up with a way to help, you know? Guess I just let him run with it.” Buffy looked around to take in where they were and gestured in the direction of Shady Rest. “Should we…?”


“Nah, it’s a bit late to start thinking about that tonight. Let’s just wander around at random, see what we can find. Gonna have to rip up those charts, though Slayer. Maybe get the maps out and try to work out a better way to do this.”


Buffy sighed, “Yeah.” After a few seconds she suggested brightly, “I know, let’s go grab up Nathan and drag him along. I haven’t seen him for a few days and he really needs more practice. He’s not very fighty at all. Then later we can drop into Willy’s and start asking around about Clem’s Cousin Pavel.”


As they walked along Buffy’s forced enthusiasm quickly faded and she sank deep into thought. Spike flicked his dogend away, stuffed his hands into his duster pockets and watched her apprehensively as she clenched her fists, scowled at the road ahead and chewed her bottom lip. She was still processing what they’d learned from Perpalla and she wasn’t accepting it nearly as easily as he had.


As far as he was concerned there wasn’t a downside. He’d never really thought much about the future since becoming a vampire. He’d lived from one day to the next, just looking for the next fight or the next bit of fun. All too often they amounted to the same thing. Now he had a reason to think about what came next. He got to spend the rest of his days with Buffy, and the prospect of their days together had just been extended indefinitely. He realised he should begin making long range plans.


He’d always known that he would never have children so he was only concerned about that revelation inasmuch as it bothered Buffy. He wouldn’t have known what to do with a baby anyway. He’d enjoyed tending Connor, but a few days of occasional baby minding with a child you could hand back when it became inconvenient was a very different proposition from the responsibility of raising your own child. He readily admitted to himself he wasn’t much of a one for taking responsibility.


He hadn’t been close to any other humans since his turning so he had never experienced the sense of impending loss that Buffy was facing. He knew he’d miss Dawn when she went, and admitted to himself that after recent developments he might miss the Scoobies when they aged and died, particularly Tara, and Giles whom he had recently come to respect, but he knew that Buffy would be devastated at each passing. He just couldn’t see a way of cushioning the blow for her.


After a while he couldn’t stand the silence any more. “You okay, Buffy?”


Buffy started, then slipped her left hand into his duster pocket, wove her fingers with those of his right hand and sighed. “You’re taking all this very calmly, Spike. Why aren’t you as wigged as me?”


“Well yeah, it was a surprise to learn how long we could have together, but a happy surprise. ‘Sides, I’ve got used to the whole ‘immortal’ thing, that’s nothing new. I’m not going to enjoy watching Dawn get old and die though…”


Having a sudden revelation, Buffy pulled up short. “Dawn! What happens to the Key energy when she dies? Does it go back to being a ball of shiny green…” She gestured vaguely, “…energy? Does it just vanish so we can stop being the Protector and the Holder or are we supposed to protect and hold a blob of green energy?” Her face scrunched up in confusion. “And how would it work without the shared blood thing?”


Spike was at a loss. “Dunno, Buffy. Have to ask the Watcher to look into it.”


She sighed sadly, “Yeah…” They walked on a little way before Buffy spoke again. “You told me once that it’s my family and friends, my ties to this world that keep me alive. What am I gonna do when they all get old and I don’t? I’m gonna be all alone again…” She looked up guiltily and hastily added, “Except for you, of course.”


Her eyes narrowed and she demanded accusingly, “Oh yeah, and that reminds me. What was with all the ‘you belong in the dark with me’? First you say I should hold on to my ties with my friends to stay alive. Then you try to convince me to drop them and go off with you?”


Spike shrugged guiltily, “Well I’m a selfish git, aren’t I Slayer? Did everything I could think of to get you to accept me into your world, then when you made it clear that was never gonna happen I figured I’d try pulling you into mine instead. Wanted you any way I could get you.” He gave a low chuckle and squeezed her hand. “Seems we’ve ended up sorta meeting in the middle.”


He nodded decisively. “Those Scoobies of yours are bound to breed like rabbits once they get their acts together. We’ll just have to make sure we keep in touch with their progeny. Rope them into the whole Slaying gig.” He smirked. “It’ll be right up Harris’ street. Scoobies: The Next Generation.” He looked down at Buffy’s hopeful expression and teased, “You’ll be the family legend. The mysterious Aunt Buffy who turns up out of the blue with a plan when the world’s about to end, and hands out the weapons just in the nick of time.”


She smiled and added, “Yeah, complete with my shadow, the bleached side-kick with the weird sun allergy.”

******


Spike watched critically from the shadows as Buffy and Nathan took on a pair of vampires the three of them had surprised stealing in the alley leading to the loading dock at the back of the mall. They had been shocked to see the Slayer coming around the corner and protested loudly that she wasn’t supposed to be there that night, but they weren’t so surprised that they didn’t put up a good fight.


Buffy was taking the opportunity to work out some of her issues by thoroughly beating up the larger of the two, her stake still tucked away in her jacket pocket, while Nathan was supposed to be taking care of the second.


It wasn’t quite working out that way, though.


After Nathan managed to get in two surprise punches his opponent had retaliated violently and the young Aurelian had fallen to pieces. He was cringing under the rear flap of the truck that rested on the loading platform with his arms raised over his head as the vampire laid into him with a tyre iron he’d grabbed out of the flatbed.


Nathan was actually whimpering. Shaking his head in disappointment Spike drew a stake from his duster pocket, strolled forward and casually staked the ranting vampire thief through the back before the idiot was aware of his presence.


Hauling Nathan out of his make-shift hiding place he muttered disapprovingly, “I dunno, vamps nowadays. Loada morons. How could he not sense there was a Master just a few feet away? Bloody pathetic.”


Buffy finally got fed up with pummelling the other vampire and staked it, the battered figure turning gratefully to dust around her. She stalked over to Nathan and demanded, “What sort of fighting do you call that? My little sister would have been more effective! I’d noticed you weren’t very skilled, but you’re not improving. You’re going to be a liability in this fight if you can’t learn to do better than that!”


Nathan backed away from her nervously. He hesitantly ventured, “But… but I’m not a trained fighter, Slayer. I never had to learn. In all my years serving the Master I only even hunted a few times, and never alone. I’ve never even had to fight another vampire before Master Spike accepted my service.”


Spike frowned, “I don’t get it, lad. If you didn’t hunt how did you eat?”


“The lesser minions usually brought in live offerings for the Master. He would pass me his leftovers so I hardly ever left the sunken church until after his demise.” He shrugged modestly. “As the Master’s pet I never had to fight other vampires for my position either, none of them could fill my place at his side. I only had to hunt for myself after the Slayer killed the old man. Even then I always picked easy targets that couldn’t fight back. Drunks and vagrants…”


Buffy raised an eyebrow in bewilderment and asked, “So what was so special about what you did for The Master?” She became aware of some less than pleasant possibilities and scrunching up her nose in distaste murmured, “Or do I want to know?”


Nathan straightened his shoulders and raised his chin proudly as he explained, “My main purpose was to study and research whatever project The Master had an interest in at the time. I was also responsible for accumulating knowledge about events outside to keep him current during his imprisonment. I went through all the newspapers the other minions brought in and listened to them gossiping so I could pass on any tidbits I thought the Master might find amusing. Sometimes one of them brought in a portable radio and I’d be able to catch up with what was happening around the world until the batteries ran out.”


He looked around furtively before quietly adding, “I also had to read to him to keep him entertained when there was nothing else happening. He was raised in an age when only monks and Priests commonly learned to read and considered it beneath his dignity to learn since he had minions to do it for him.”


Spike snorted, “Bloody Hell! So Darla’s darling Old Batface was illiterate was he? Wish I’d know that before, it would have been perfect taunting material when the bitch started in on me.” Genuinely curious he asked, “Don’t you enjoy the violence, lad? Doesn’t your demon drive you on to let loose in a good scrap?”


Shrugging apologetically Nathan said, “Not really. I guess my demon just isn’t very strong.”


Spike cocked his head to the side and considered the other vampire for a few moments then commented, “Now I know who you remind me of. Dalton. A minion who lingered on after I dusted the Annoying One. He was bloody hopeless in a fight too, but give him a book in an obscure language and he’d be happy for days as he puzzled it out.” He turned to Buffy. “You met him, Slayer. He was the one who helped me decipher the ritual to cure Dru. He said you nearly caught him when he went to get the Du Lac Cross, and then later you took a part of the Judge off him for a while.”


Buffy nodded in recognition, “Oh yeah, my arm in a box.” She raised an eyebrow at Nathan and mused quietly, “In that case perhaps you’d be more help with Giles and his musty books…”


Nathan paid no attention to what she was saying and blurted excitedly, “Dalton? Oh I haven’t seen him for years. I helped train him, you know. Do you know where he is?”


“Ah. Sorry, lad. The Judge got him. Dru wanted a demonstration before she and Angelus took him out to play and after I managed to persuade him not to fry Dru and me for stinking of humanity he picked out Dalton. Said he was full of feeling ‘cos he read, and burned him up.”


Puzzled, Buffy asked, “I thought the Judge was only supposed to kill humans?”


Spike shook his head. “The legend said he’d ‘rid the Earth of the plague of humanity’. That covers any living creature with a touch of humanity in it.” He saw Buffy’s pensive expression and added flatly, “He tested Angelus too. Said he was clean, no humanity in him.”


Buffy sighed a quiet resigned, “Oh.”

******

They encountered three more groups of vampires before they walked into Willy’s, the resulting activity leaving Buffy flushed and slightly dishevelled. As they came through the door she was one step ahead with Spike behind her left shoulder and Nathan at her right. They stopped just inside and Buffy stood with her arms folded across her chest, her stake held with the point tapping impatiently on her upper arm.


Her deliberately threatening pose was slightly spoiled by her pained grimace and disgusted “Ew, Spike!” when she took her first breath of the bar’s acrid atmosphere. She muttered accusingly, “I could so do without the enhanced sense of smell right now!”


The rowdy bar gradually started falling quiet one table at a time as their arrival was noticed.


When she absently brushed a patch of tell-tale grey dust off her shoulder with the hand holding the stake the denizens froze anxiously.


Flustered, Willy bustled up from behind the bar to greet her, babbling, “Slayer! I wasn’t expecting to see you in here tonight, Slayer. How are you, Slayer? I hope you’re well, Slayer? What brings you here tonight, Slayer? Can I get you a drink, Slayer?” Each mention of her title came out slightly louder than the one before it until his panicky voice was the only sound in the packed room and even those demons who had never seen Buffy before couldn’t help but know exactly who and what she was.


Buffy glared at him and the weaselly bar owner slowly retreated. There were a few seconds of frozen silence as the Slayer’s eyes swept over the room, then it was as if a switch was flicked and there was a general shift as over half of the demons present started edging nervously towards the exits.


Buffy murmured, “Spike, Nathan, if you would be so good as to cover the other doors?”


Nodding at Nathan to comply, Spike swaggered to the back door leading to the alley, spun on his heel fast enough to ensure his duster flared out around him and glared back into the bar.


He was more aware than usual of his need to put on a bit of a show, his need to impress on everyone present (himself most of all, he thought ironically) his renewed claim to his rightful rank of Master Vampire. A position which he’d been forced to let slide while he suffered under the humiliating constraints of the infernal chip.


It was high time for the ridicule that his government sponsored incapacity had engendered among the demon community to come to an end. Past time for them to acknowledge that the ‘Big Bad’ was back.


It didn’t hurt his rep any that it was becoming commonly known that he was Mated to the Slayer who instilled terror in the heart of all demons with half a brain. Which of course still left quite a few of them quite oblivious to the danger she represented.


After lighting a cigarette and casually blowing a long thin stream of smoke up into the air to add to the noxious mix of fumes already swirling there he drew a large ugly dagger from an inner pocket of his duster and began idly tossing it in the air and catching it again. As he did so he took in who was in tonight.


The bar was unusually busy. He had idly wondered occasionally why it seemed that on some nights the place had seemed practically empty and on others it was rocking. Now he knew. It was because this was supposed to be a ‘Slayer free’ night. It meant that some of these demons were very likely of the more dangerous varieties who would normally avoid Buffy, the ones that she would feel a duty to eradicate.


Nathan attempted to emulate Spike’s arrogant strut as he moved to block the way to the door at the end of the bar that led to the basement and from there to the sewers. Not having a dagger on him he looked around and plucked a sharp cooking knife from under the bar and began cleaning his fingernails with it. He didn’t have quite the same imposing attitude as Spike, but the company he kept lent him the necessary authority to halt the various demons heading his way in their tracks.


At last Buffy spoke. She declared firmly, “I have a problem.” She paused for a few seconds to let this implied threat sink in and then using her stake to point at various random demons she added with a menacing smile, “And when I have a problem, you have a problem.”

******

After explaining to the assembled demons about the disappearance of Clem’s cousin, Buffy had told them that anyone providing evidence about what had happened to Pavel, or news about the fate of any of the demons that had been captured by the Initiative, would earn a ‘free pass’. They would have a week, either to prove to her satisfaction their lack of evil intentions or to get out of town.


She was under no illusions that her unexpected appearance in the bar would be without repercussions. As soon as she had finished her speech she had signalled her undead companions back to her side and they had calmly walked out of the bar.


She led them out into the deserted street whispering urgently, “Some of them are either going to follow us or ambush us, but there’ll definitely be an attack. Keep your eyes open. We should stay out in the open where we can see them coming and we’ve got fighting room.”


Spike got his dagger ready and checked that Nathan still held his big knife. He grumbled, “Wish I’d known we were gonna start a war tonight, Slayer. I’d be happier with a few more weapons just now.”


They walked along affecting a casual demeanour while constantly scanning the street and the dark alleys that fed off it. Buffy quietly instructed, “Nathan, just do your best. There’s only one rule. Don’t die.”


They didn’t have to wait long for the first couple of demons to jump them. Nathan hung back while Buffy and Spike dispatched the skinny blue demons wearing grey overalls, but then he helped them drag the carcasses back into the alley they had charged out of and dump them in a dark corner.


As they turned back into the street he gestured over his shoulder and commented, “Huzad demons. Not very smart but vicious. Generally eat small mammals. Pet cats and dogs are easy prey, but human children are considered a delicacy when they can get them without raising too much of a fuss. Tend to persecute Taez demons that are vegetarian and love to keep cats around to keep rats and mice out of their stores.”


Buffy gaped up at him in bewilderment. “You just kinda knew all that off the top of your head, huh?”


Nathan didn’t get the opportunity to answer before they were attacked again, this time by a group of three demons of different types. Once more Nathan stood back and watched the fight, only stepping in when all three of them ganged up on Buffy.


Spike was kicking, punching and stabbing ineffectively at a huge thick skinned brown beast’s back as it attempted to throttle her from behind.


The other two slightly smaller assailants attacked her from the front. With a huge scaly arm around her neck restricting her mobility she could only try to fend them off by kicking out and flailing around with a knife she’d drawn from her boot. The dark vampire darted in for just long enough to drive his knife into the back of the brown demon’s neck. The monster fell lifeless immediately, leaving Spike and Buffy free to fight the other two and kill them with comparative ease.


Once more while they were clearing the bodies out of the middle of the street Nathan casually identified each of the demons. Spike slyly asked, “And of course you knew exactly where to stick that knife of yours to best effect, didn’t you lad?”


Nathan shrugged as he looked warily ahead for the next attack and offhandedly commented, “Nape of the neck to sever the spinal chord. It’s the only vulnerable patch of hide on a Kucxlar demon. Their blood is acid so the less you spill the better.”


Spike immediately examined his duster anxiously for spots of corrosive demon blood and sighed in huge relief when he found the precious leather undamaged. Well... no more damaged than it already was, anyway.


As they walked on Spike jerked his head towards Nathan and murmured to Buffy, “Charlie said he was a walking encyclopaedia of the Hellmouth. He wasn’t kidding, was he?”


There was only one more attack. Two drunken vampires staggered out of an alley, each egging the other on to kill the Slayer for spoiling their evening out. Buffy had trouble suppressing her laughter for the fifteen seconds it took to stake the incompetent pair.


After they had proceeded for a while with no more interruptions Buffy decided she had done her duty for the night, pocketed her stake and slipped her arm around Spike’s waist, snuggling into his side for the remainder of the walk home.


At the gates to Restfield they paused to see Nathan back to the crypt, but as he said, “’Night, Master Spike”, gave a respectful little nod to Buffy and turned to leave them she held up a hand to delay him.


“Nathan, what would you say if I were to suggest you shouldn’t patrol with us any more?”


The younger vampire’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he sighed mournfully. “I know I’m useless in a fight, Slayer. I just need a purpose, that’s why I offered to serve master Spike. I did try to strike out on my own after The Master was killed but it turned out I’m not very good at being an independent vampire.”


“What if I could suggest a different purpose for you? One I think would suit you much better and help me out too?”


Large intrigued brown eyes gazed back at sparkling misty green ones. Cocking his head to one side in consideration, Nathan asked, “What would you have me do, Slayer?”


Buffy grinned and brightly exclaimed, “Research!”


Spike chuckled at Nathan’s astonished delight.


Buffy went on excitedly, “Vamps I can deal with. It’s all those different kinds of demons I sometimes have problems with. In the past I haven’t always been able to rely on the slice and dice method of Slayage and you’ve shown us tonight that you know more about them than I do. What if I were to suggest you work with Giles?” She added slyly, “I bet there’s loads of stuff you know that he doesn’t.”


Nathan gaped at her adoringly. “The Watcher would let me work with him?” His voice softened to a reverential whisper as he added, “All those wonderful books…”


Buffy smirked up at Spike and breathed, “Oh yeah… he’s hooked.” A little crease appeared in the centre of her forehead and she murmured, “One down, one to go.” She turned back to Nathan and cheerfully gestured him onwards, “Off you go then. Come to the house after sunset tomorrow and we’ll have something sorted out.”


As they continued homewards leaving an ecstatic vampire walking on air through the cemetery Spike commented sardonically, “I take it you didn’t consult Rupert before coming out with this little suggestion then, Slayer.”


Buffy chewed her bottom lip sheepishly. “I only just thought of it tonight. You have to admit he’s more hindrance than help in a fight, but he knows so much…” She straightened her shoulders in determination. “…Giles will understand and agree with me.” The certainty left her voice and she whined plaintively, “Won’t he?”

******

That night she tried to turn their lovemaking violent again. He didn’t notice at first, after all a good rough shag suited both of them from time to time. It was when he looked her in the eye as she rode him hard that he first twigged that something was off.


Her eyes were blank, staring blindly off into space as her fingernails gouged furrows in his chest. It wasn’t the pain that worried him. She knew he sometimes liked a little pain with his pleasure, but when she indulged him she always looked him in the eye to see his ecstatic reactions and enjoy his pleasure with him. This time she didn’t even seem to realise what she was doing.


He released his grip on her hips and ran his hands softly up and down her arms to gentle her, but the only reaction he got was a disgruntled frown and an animalistic grunt as her pounding rhythm sped up: Up down up down, swirl hips. Up down up down, swirl hips. Up down up down, swirl hips….


Spike frowned in concentration as he tried to separate her emotions from his own, something that was sometimes surprisingly difficult. A cold chill swept over him as he realised that there was no love in her actions, no desire for him as her lover, her Mate. There was no passion other than fear and dread and a mindless fury of resentment swirling through his beloved Slayer’s mind.


In the past the reason behind Buffy’s sexual appetite for him wouldn’t have mattered to him. He would have just been grateful that she had chosen to come to him and he’d have provided what comfort he could in the hope he could make her feel better, at least for a little while. This wasn’t a quest for comfort, though. This was a desperate need to escape from unwelcome feelings.


After having experienced the wonder of supremely fulfilling lovemaking between them, it wasn’t good enough. Not nearly good enough.


He was horrified to realise that all the time they had been together before the Claim she might have been feeling something like this. It almost brought him to tears. How could he have been so mistaken? Had he helped her at all or had he just made everything ten times worse?


Making an abrupt decision to put an end to this travesty he made use of his supernatural strength to surprise her and flipped them so he was lying over her. He grasped her clawed fists and pressed them into the pillows beside her head and rammed down with his hips to still her compulsive movements.


That got her attention.


Blinking in confusion she glared up at him as she struggled to free herself and angrily demanded, “What do you think you’re doing, Spike?”


“Well, I had thought I was making love to my Mate, but my Mate seems to be off somewhere else. Doesn’t seem to need me to be taking part in the action at all. Should I get your buzzy little friend out for you Slayer? That doesn’t have any feelings to hurt and I’m sure it’d last as long as I could if you’ve remembered to change the batteries.”


Her eyes went wide in angry disbelief. “What? What the Hell are you talking about, you bleached freak?” She wriggled again and managed to free one arm which allowed her to land a hard wild punch on his nose.


Spike jerked back in shock. “Bitch!” Unbearably hurt he flung her other hand away from him and rolled off her. Sitting up on the edge of the bed with his back to her he grabbed the jeans he had shed earlier and started dragging them on again, desperate to get away from her before she broke his heart completely. He lashed out angrily, “We’re back to that again, are we? Back to the old game of nasty shagging, using me just so you can get your jollies. Well let me tell you, missy, I’m not bloody gonna…”


He broke off and froze when she reached out to him, just turning his head enough to see her beautiful face crumpling in despair as she clutched desperately at his arm and babbled, “Oh God… Oh God… I was doing it again wasn’t I? No, Spike, don’t go! For God’s sake please don’t leave me! I’m so sorry, it’s just… nothing’s ever simple, you know? I thought we’d finally got it right, that I could be happy, but now it seems as if I’m gonna live for ever and I’ll have to stand back and watch everybody I know grow old and die all around me.” She sobbed, “I don’t wanna live for ever, Spike. I don’t wanna watch all my friends die and leave me.”


He rolled his eyes up to plead with some nebulous higher power for a moment as he tried to resist her pain and hold on to his anger. Then he heaved a resigned sigh and caved. Kicking free of his jeans he rolled back onto the bed and took her into his arms, murmuring, “Not leaving. Never leaving you, beloved. Just a bit hurt and disappointed…”


Once more her fingernails dug into his flesh, but this time it was to cling onto him and crush his body as close to hers as she could as she sobbed into the curve of his neck.


He whispered reassuring nonsense into her ear as he stroked her back. He got comfortable against the pillows and pulled her across his lap and dragged the covers up over them to keep her warm, and still she cried.


It was beginning to feel as if she was going to cry for ever when she shifted against him and her hair fell away from her neck. Unthinkingly Spike vamped out and sank his fangs deep into his mark, holding fast without drinking. He unconsciously began emitting the deep rumbling purr that soothed her.


After a second Buffy shifted again and wrapped her arms around him, cupping the back of his head and pressing his face firmly into her neck. She heaved a shuddering sigh and relaxed, her sobs finally beginning to slow into gulps and hiccups and snuffly whimpers.


They remained motionless for long minutes as Buffy’s storm of rage and grief passed and faded and melted into exhaustion.


At last she calmed sufficiently to whisper hoarsely, “’hank you, Spike.”


Carefully retracting his fangs he gentled the wound closed and resumed his human face. “Better, sweetheart?”


She sniffed and rubbed her nose against his shoulder. “Yeah.” She looked at him sheepishly through her eyelashes and hesitantly stroked a finger over his chest, ghosting over the almost healed scratches there. “Sorry about that. Guess it all kinda caught up with me at once and I took it out on you. Looks like I’m gonna have to try a bit harder to get out of that habit than I thought.” After a moment she added, “Wish I’d known how comforting your fangs could be when I first came back. I could have saved us both so much pain.”


“It’s the Claim, Buffy. I don’t think it would have worked without it. We wouldn’t have had the connection. ‘Sides you’d never have wanted me to bite you back then. I didn’t even think what I was doing. Demon took over with the fangs and the purring, seemed to know just what you needed.”


Buffy lifted her head to give him a salty kiss and petted his forehead. “There’s my clever demon.”


She reached over to the nightstand for a handful of tissues and dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. Then after she’d apologetically mopped up the snotty mess she’d made of him and soothed his chest with tender kisses they snuggled down into the bed.


Settling them lying nose to nose so he could look her in the eye as they cuddled, Spike said, “You don’t have to worry about living forever, Buffy. I figure I can think of enough things we can do to keep you happy for a couple hundred years or so. After we’ve destroyed the Hellmouth you won’t be stuck here, will you? The other Slayer, whoever she is then, can step up to take care of the apocalypses for a while and we could travel. We can go and discover all the strange and beautiful things in this wonderful world until you find a place you want to settle down for a while. By the time you’ve got fed up with that place there’ll be more new things to go and see.”


Buffy snorted ironically. “A couple hundred years? Is that all?” She stroked his cheek. “Don’t you see? This changes everything. The Hellmouth thing could be ages away, and then we don’t know how long you’ll be gone. What if it takes you a hundred years to come back to me? How will I manage without you? I’ll be waiting all alone.”


Spike sighed sadly, brushing a lock of damp hair off her face. “Same way I did when you were gone, beloved. One day at a time. You’ll find something to hold on to, like me and my promise to protect Dawn.” He shrugged self-mockingly. “’Course the booze helped dull the pain a bit too.”


Buffy shook her head in mock horror. “Oh no. No booze for Buffy. I’ve learned that lesson. Buffy will remain one hundred percent boozeless.” She mused, “A hundred and forty seven days. I reckon if you could manage that, I can too if I have to.” With a finger prodding him emphatically in the chest she warned him, “You’d better not be gone for longer than I was, buster, or I’ll stake your scrawny ass.”


Spike sniffed in mock offence. “My arse is not scrawny. I’ll have you know that a certain Slayer of my acquaintance says I have a gorgeous sexy arse.”


She sleepily mused, “I’d like to travel the world one day. Rodeo Drive to start with, then Paris fashion week, then on to London, that would be Oxford Street, Kensington High Street and King’s Road. And of course Italy. It can only be Milan for shoes and bags. Then of course I’d have to take a trip to Fifth Avenue…”


Spike chuckled fondly, “There’s my little shopaholic Slayer.”


Buffy’s smile abruptly turned into a yawn. She mumbled, “Sleepy now…”


Their foreheads met as they relaxed against each other and within seconds they were both fast asleep.

******

“Bugger!”


A light laugh came from the living room. “Click the wrong button again did you, Spike?”


He grumbled, “Bloody computer, got a life of its own.” He desperately clicked the back button trying to find the page he had been on when he’d lost his way, only to find himself mysteriously back on the Google homepage at the beginning of his search. He growled at it. It completely ignored him, showing no fear of him whatever. Heaving a resigned sigh he clicked on the original link that had conveniently changed colour to show him which one it was, and started the process again to try and retrace his steps.


He was ensconced at the dining room table trying to familiarise himself with the workings of the laptop while Buffy sat with Giles in the living room waiting for Nathan to show up. The Watcher was still voicing half-hearted protests at the prospect of working with the vampire he had only met briefly two or three times, but Spike could tell from his tone of voice that he was ready to agree, if only out of sheer curiosity.


Buffy had already posed the question about Dawn’s Keyness that had occurred to her the night before and Giles had promised to look into the matter. There wasn’t really anything else any of them could do about it at this point.


As they waited they discussed the proposed rearrangement of Buffy’s patrol schedule, the need for which Giles had trouble comprehending. “So you’re telling me that for nearly two years, apart from when you were… gone obviously, you have stuck to the same rigid patrol routes?”


Buffy sighed impatiently. “Yes, Giles. I’ve already pleaded guilty to the crime of allowing Riley’s orderly military mind to infect my disorderly Slayage. The epic proportions of Buffy’s folly have already been pointed out. Work with me here. We’ve got to come up with a new unroutiney routine so the vamps don’t catch on and I can catch them out.”


Spike smirked at her charmingly descriptive abuse of the English language and tuned the discussion out as he frowned at the computer screen. How hard could it be to find information on people anyway? Surely everything known about everyone on earth was recorded on the web by now?


It was only an exercise it was true, it wasn’t vital to the fate of the world, but it was frustrating that he didn’t seem to be able to get anywhere. Dawn had suggested using the name of a familiar place or person to initiate a search, just to feel his way around the system. If it didn’t give him some positive results soon the ‘system’ was going to be finding its way into the front garden by the shortest route via the closed dining room window.


Just as he was about to explode from sheer frustration Tara arrived home and came in to see what he was doing. Patting his shoulder in sympathy at his evident irritation she suggested, “Why don’t you Google yourself? Everyone does sooner or later and it can be fun to find out what people have said about you.” She paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Or not…” Having made her suggestion she smiled encouragingly and turned to go upstairs.


Spike cocked his head to one side as he considered the possibilities. Couldn’t hurt. He typed ‘Spike’ in the search window and sat back to see what would happen.


Twenty minutes later after sifting through dozens of links leading to sites detailing various computer softwares, Spike Lee, Spike Milligan, Spike Jonze, numerous pictures of family pets, the adventures of a cartoon dog, a theatre company and sundry other miscellaneous irrelevancies he gave up. There was no way he was going to find anything about himself that way.


Perhaps this wasn’t going to be quite as easy as it had first appeared.


He pondered for a moment and decided to try another tack. Unconsciously sticking his tongue out and clamping it to his top teeth as he concentrated, using just his two forefingers he painstakingly typed, ‘William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers’ into the search engine and hit enter. Hmmm, 1 – 10 of over 40,000,000 entries.


That seemed rather a large number of websites to be devoted to him. He hadn’t realised he was that famous.


He clicked on the first link and discovered it was in fact dedicated to the American thrash metal band ‘Slayer’. He muttered to himself, “Some decent guitar solos and right funny album cover art. Prefer Metallica myself.” He clicked the back button in preparation for trying the next link.


Having been reminded by the error to read the little synopsis of each site beneath the link to check if there was a remote possibility of it having any relevance to himself before clicking on it, he continued his search.


Time passed as he lost himself in the maze of websites devoted to various people named William, more charting the history, personnel and musical output of the band ‘Slayer’, and the occasional speculative essay or article about mythical amazon warriors. When he happened across one of these last he carefully went through the ritual of marking the site in his ‘favorites’ for later perusal, grumbling irritably each time at the American mangling of the spelling of the word.


He had just come across something that looked as if it actually promised to be about him when Buffy’s head appeared around the corner. “Spike, have you seen Dawnie recently? She’s not in her room.”


Not taking his eyes from the loading document he said, “No. Haven’t seen her since she got me started at this.”


She said something else before moving away, but he wasn’t listening any more. He was gaping in total astonishment at the computer screen which was now displaying:


WILLIAM THE BLOODY
by
Lydia Chalmers
A thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of the
requirements for the degree of
Watcher's Diploma (W.D.)
Watcher's Academy, London.
1998


He started reading the first section, the abstract. Within seconds he gave a loud snort and muttered, “Known trustworthiness? Watchers? Yeah… right.”


A few moments later he was chuckling. “So she’s interested in my ‘Sexual idiosyncrasies’ is she? Have to get her chatting with the Slayer.” He reconsidered the wisdom of that thought for a moment. “P’raps not.”


He had just got to the section setting out the supposed confusion about the identity of his Sire when Buffy came charging back into the room.


“Spike! Why are you still sitting there? I told you, Dawn’s missing!”


Instantly the rambling musings of the star-struck Watcher he vaguely remembered from the Council’s invasion of his crypt the year before lost their fascination. “What do mean missing? Where’s she gone?” He leapt out of his chair and went to grab his emerald sword from behind the coat rack.


“Well if I knew that she wouldn’t be missing would she?” As she sorted through the weapons chest for her favourite axe, passing Giles a crossbow in the process, she muttered irritably, “Idiot vampire.”


Trying to figure out how the resident escape artist had vanished without him noticing, as he shrugged into his duster he asked, “She go out her window again?”


“No, it’s closed and locked.” The three of them stood in the hall considering how to proceed. “She can’t have got far. Spike, you go out the back and work across to Restfield, she may have gone to see Clem. Giles, we’ll go out the front, I’ll go West towards Janice’s and the Bronze and you go East towards the Magic Box and Xander’s. Have you both got your cellphones?” When they both answered in the affirmative Buffy headed towards the front door. “Whoever finds her first, call in. Tara’s staying here to do a locator spell and answer the phone. We can’t wait for the spell so she’ll call me if she can find out where she is or if one of you calls her.” She added flatly, “Then I’ll know where I’ve got to go to kill her.”


Spike slammed out of the back door and stopped dead. Rolling his eyes in frustration he stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle then slumped against the door frame resting the blade of his sword on his shoulder.


When first Buffy, then Tara and finally a puffing Giles appeared in the opening he mockingly asked, “Don’t suppose you thought to look out the bloody window before you declared a red alert, Slayer?”


Buffy scrubbed her face with her hand as the tenseness that had gathered in her shoulders over the past few frantic minutes drained away. “Dawn, go to your room.”


The teenager looked up at them wide-eyed from her position sitting on the steps of the back porch. Flushing in embarrassment she cried, “What? Why? I haven’t done anything wrong!”


Sensing Buffy working up an impressive head of steam fuelled more by fear than anger, Spike nodded at Dawn. “Go on, Bit. I’ll be up in a minute to explain.”


She sulkily stood and gathered up the two empty mugs from the boards, pausing only to turn back and say, “Sorry, Nathan. As you can see the parentals are complete nutjobs. It was good to meet you. I hope to see you again soon.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, accidentally on purpose sending it straight into Buffy’s face making the older girl splutter and bat at her head, and then with her nose in the air in a masterful display of wounded innocence she stalked past the assembled audience into the house, followed by a relieved Tara.


Scowling down at the nervous vampire who had leapt up from his seat at Dawn’s side at his sudden appearance to stand shuffling awkwardly on the back lawn, Spike snarled, “That’s the Slayer’s little sister. She’s mine. You don’t touch her. You don’t speak to her. You don’t even look at her if you can help it. Got that? She’s not for you.”


Bobbing his head frantically Nathan agreed, “Got it, Master Spike. It’s just… she was kind enough to offer me hot chocolate. My mother used to….” He trailed off anxiously when he took in Spike’s eyes flashing ominously between blue and gold. “Right, no touching Miss Dawn. No speaking to her.” He blinked, ducked his head and whispered sheepishly, “Can’t promise not to look at her…”


Suppressing a chuckle, Spike made sure to keep his expression serious as he turned to Buffy and Giles. “You okay here now? I should go talk to the Bit. You’ve got your crossbow, Watcher? I reckon the lad’ll play nice now.” He glanced meaningfully back at Nathan. “He knows what’ll happen if he doesn’t.”


“Oh I think we’ll be just fine.” Giles assured him sincerely, allowing just a touch of Ripperness to emerge. “We’ll just sit out here and have a nice friendly chat about demons and the Hellmouth and compare our knowledge of related texts and figure out how we can help each other.”


As he brushed past Buffy, Spike ducked down slightly to whisper in her ear, “You’re gonna have to have a word with your sis about fraternising with vamps that aren’t me, Slayer. Natural affinity, remember?”


Buffy turned wide eyes up at him in horrified disbelief, then looked back to direct a measuring glare at the vampire who was now listening so intently to her Watcher.


Having shed his duster and replaced his sword in its hiding place Spike knocked on Dawn’s bedroom door, then upon hearing her grunt a sullen “C’min,” he entered.


He leant back against the door and opened his mouth to speak but from her position reclining on her bed Dawn got in first with her defence.


“Look, I know he’s a vampire, okay? I was careful not to invite him into the house, I’m not stupid enough to make that mistake again, but he’s a tame vampire, like you. He’s your friend and he’s been helping us, he helped save Xander and you!” She shrugged defiantly. “He doesn’t hunt. I didn’t see any harm in making him welcome.”


Spike huffed impatiently. “First, Bit, there ain’t no such animal as a ‘tame’ vampire… and he’s not like me. I had long months with a soddin’ chip in my head that forced me to change my ways before you Summers women got your claws in my heart and made me want to change. Nathan hasn’t had any of that. He’s just a poor fool looking for a way to get along and sees taking me as his Master and helping me and the Slayer as the latest option to try out. No saying how long that’ll last before he reverts to type.”


“Second, he’s not my friend. Vamps don’t have friends. They have Sires, or minions, or Masters, or rivals, or enemies, or allies, or travelling companions or lovers. A single vamp can be more than one of those things one time or another depending upon circumstances, but you’ll never hear one vamp call another ‘friend’. Doesn’t work that way.”


“So, what’s Nathan to you then? Ally? Minion?”


Spike ran a hand through his hair as he tried to put a label on the tentative relationship forming between himself and the unusual Aurelian vampire. “Dunno, pet. It’s complicated ‘cos I didn’t make him, Darla did, and he served the Grand Poobah, The Master himself. S’pose he’s more than a common minion, but not quite an ally. S’pose he could become an ally with time if it works out, but if it all goes pear-shaped he could just as easily become an enemy and from there a pile of dust. Best not to get too used to him being around, just in case.”


Dawn flounced back against her pillows displaying her version of the patented Summers pout and in an offended tone declared, “It’s not fair, I never get to get to know the interesting people around here. I was actually having a civilised conversation with him before you crashed into the middle of it. I think he likes me.”


Spike pounced on the opportunity to address a point he hadn’t had time to figure out how to raise. “And that’s another thing, Bit. He may not be hunting, not for now at least, but that’s not the only danger you could be in. Remember what I told you in LA. Your typical vamp doesn’t only hunger for blood and he isn’t too picky who he shags or whether the party in question is willing. In fact he may well prefer it if there’s a bit of resistance involved. Next time he turns up and you see him first, you call me or your sis and then keep out of his way, yeah? Safe indoors.”


Resigned to being on Dawn’s grudge list for a while, Spike turned to leave, shaking his head at her exaggerated aggrieved sigh. “You should get used to it now, Niblet. Life’s never fair, particularly for a teenage girl on the Hellmouth whose big sister happens to be the Slayer. Anyway, by now you should be able to remember that most of the interesting ‘people’ around here just want to eat your face off.”


Leaving Dawn to wallow in her righteous sulk, Spike trotted back downstairs to resume his interrupted study of himself as described by one Lydia Chalmers, Watcher extraordinaire.


TBC

A/N:
I was going to try to cobble something together myself to refer to as ‘Lydia’s thesis’, but my wonderful Beta pointed out that an expert job had already been done by those with a lot more patience than me.
It’s likely that in later chapters ‘my’ Spike will be picking holes in its contents to fit with the back-story I’ve developed for him, but that in no way detracts from my genuine appreciation of the imagination, skill and dedication shown by its authors.
Prime Mover: Taramisu
Managing Editor: Klytaimnestra
Writers: Alcibiades, Ayinhara, Cindy, Dettiot, Dori, Klytaimnestra. DutchBuffy, macha, rkkline, shipperxphile, Taramisu, Teamopera
Editors: Ayinhara, Colleen, Dutchbuffy2305, Mintwitch, Sylvia.

If you should wish to read the entire document, it can be found here:

http://www.channelingboards.com/SpikeThesis/