SpikePuppet

Buffy and Dawn eventually quieted down enough to allow Spike to drift off to sleep again. He was so wiped out after his difficult day with Dawn that he didn't think he could have stayed awake if he tried. Not surprisingly, his dreams were unpleasant. Spike wasn't sure which one was worse; the one where he was stuck in a neverending spin cycle, or the one where Dawn crammed him inside the oven and cranked up the heat.

Some hours later, he awoke again when gentle hands picked him up. It was Buffy, who moved him downstairs to the sofa. She pointedly sat right beside him, while Dawn was banished to a large armchair. The tension between the sisters had lessened considerably. It seemed that it was a special movie night and they weren't going to skip their routine just because Dawn had misbehaved. Buffy had brought home an English-language rental version of "Gladiator" and soon she and her sister were absorbed in the film. Spike was somewhat less interested, besides still being tired. After the first 15 minutes, he fell into a doze that lasted until the doorbell rang.

Dawn hit the stop button on the remote control and checked her watch. "It's pretty late for someone to be coming over. Maybe it's one of your students, Buffy?"

'Students?' thought Spike. Had Buffy become some sort of teacher, or perhaps gone back to being a guidance counselor?

He waited to find out as Buffy went to the door. From where he sat, his view was blocked, but he clearly heard her greeting. "Angel! What are you doing here?"

'Angel?' Spike almost shot out of his skin at the realization that his grandsire was darkening Buffy's doorstep.

Dawn scampered over to the door to look. "It really *is* you!"

Alone on the couch, Spike was thinking frantically and blaming himself for being caught in this awkward situation. He'd known from the beginning that Angel could easily uncover his movements and determine his whereabouts by watching the Wolfram & Hart security tapes, but he hadn't counted on it happening this soon. It had, though, and now Angel was on the verge of ruining all of his plans. Should he run for it while he had the chance? If he jumped out the window and fled, maybe Buffy wouldn't be able to track him down and kill him. Of course, that outcome was highly doubtful. With his short legs, he couldn't build up to any sort of speed. By the time he got two houses away, Buffy would be upon him. She would also be that much angrier because of having to chase him down. On the other hand, if he stayed where he was and threw himself on her mercy, she might spare him. Maybe.

Right, then, Spike decided, he wasn't going to run. He was going to stick it out and take whatever was coming to him. He just hoped he was choosing the best option. Having made up his mind, he tuned back in to the conversation taking place at the front door.

"We need to talk Buffy," Angel was saying. "This is serious."

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"Do I have an invitation inside?" Angel pressed. "Look, I know you don't like the fact that I'm working at Wolfram & Hart now. Andrew said as much. But I haven't turned evil and I need to tell you something important."

After a pause, Buffy said, "All right. Come in, Angel."

"Thank you." He stepped inside. The next thing Spike heard was Angel saying, "Where is he?"

"Who?" came Dawn's confused voice.

Angel moved forward into the living room, spotted Spike on the couch, and opened his mouth. Then he closed it. It must have struck him that Spike was unnaturally still.

"Angel, why are you here?" Buffy said with an edge of impatience to her tone.

Angel ignored her. He was totally focused on Spike as he walked toward the sofa.

"Look what Buffy got as a gift," Dawn chimed in. "Isn't he adorable?"

"I can think of another word for it." Angel paced a little closer.

Spike continued to hold his position, praying Angel would take the hint and not give him away. He didn't want to be found out, and it was in Angel's best interests to help him maintain his cover.

"Angel," Buffy said warningly.

"What? Oh, yeah." He turned so he was looking at her but able to keep the puppet in his range of vision. "Why I came here. I, um, I'm afraid I have bad news. About Cordelia. She never came out of her coma and she died."

Spike had to hand it to Angel; he'd come up with a decent cover story on the spur of the moment. After all, it was the truth, and Dawn and Buffy didn't know--yet, anyway--that Cordelia had actually been dead for weeks. He watched as they awkwardly hugged Angel and offered words of sympathy.

"So, you came all the way over here to tell us in person," Buffy mused. "Obviously you flew?"

Angel nodded. "My first time on a plane. It was a special high-speed jet with protective glass in all the windows so I was perfectly safe."

"You and Cordy got pretty close while you were working together, huh?" Dawn probed.

"Yeah," Angel said shortly, paying more attention to Spike than to the conversation.

"Can we get you anything?" Buffy asked. "Um, there's no blood in the house, but maybe..."

"Coffee. Coffee would be great." Buffy looked puzzled by this particular request but shrugged and headed for the kitchen. Dawn did not. Angel turned to her. "Dawn, can you get me a sandwich? Any kind. Take your time."

"Oh. Sure."

As she followed Buffy away, Spike could tell from the expression on her face that she was wondering when Angel had started eating sandwiches, or pretty much any human food at all. He didn't have much time to analyze Dawn's likely thoughts, though, as Angel advanced upon him.

He stopped in front of Spike, towering over him. "Hello, Spike. You're going to regret the day you came here."

Angel lunged for him, but Spike had been expecting such a move and he leaped out of range. He and Angel glared at each other from opposite ends of the couch.

"Spike, what the hell do you think you're doing here?" Angel snarled. "Did you think you'd get away with this? The Wolfram & Hart security team showed me every move you made. They caught it all on camera. Good thing, too. What was going through your mind? Getting yourself transformed into a puppet and mailing yourself to Buffy, of all the idiotic things to do! Hasn't she been through enough already without you pulling this shit?"

"It's none of your business," Spike retorted in a harsh whisper, keenly aware that he needed to keep Buffy and Dawn from hearing.

"You're tricking them. They obviously don't know the truth about you."

"I just wanted to see how they were doing," Spike said honestly. "They don't need to know I'm back."

Angel edged closer. "I could tell them."

"You won't, though," Spike guessed. "You want me to leave here with Buffy never knowing."

"You don't know that," Angel retorted, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, I do." Spike was sure he was right; he could feel it. "If you wanted Buffy to know the truth about me, you'd have told her already. Fact is, you're afraid Buffy'll pick me over you if she finds out I'm alive--well, undead again."

Angel scowled. "She wouldn't. You don't think so either, because if you did, you wouldn't be hiding your identity from her."

Sensing vulnerability, Spike pressed his advantage. "You want to take that chance? On top of that, you know Buffy'll be pissed at you for hiding the fact that I've been back for months. I'll make sure you come out of this situation looking as bad as I do. Worse, even. You know I can do it."

"Fine. I have a solution to this whole mess. You come back to Los Angeles with me, now." With that, Angel grabbed for Spike again.

Angel had the advantages of surprise, sheer physical size, and more rest (not having gone through a washing machine and a dryer earlier in the day). But Spike had reached the end of his rope. The day had already been long and trying enough and now here was Angel, marching in acting like he owned the place and Spike was his servant. Instinctively, Spike vamped out. He felt his fangs descend into his mouth and as Angel went for him, he pounced and sank his sharp teeth deep into the outstretched arm. Angel yelped in pain and lashed out, repeatedly whacking Spike against the coffee table. Spike grimly held on like a bulldog, teeth grinding harder as Angel's blood flowed into his mouth. Again and again Angel smashed him into the wood, but Spike refused to let go.

"Angel?" came Buffy's voice from the direction of the kitchen. "Are you all right?"

Angel immediately halted his attempts to batter Spike loose. He and Spike both froze, Spike still dangling from Angel's arm with his fangs firmly lodged in the tender flesh. "I'm fine, Buffy," Angel called back, wincing. "I just knocked something over."

"Okay," she yelled back. "I'll have your coffee ready in just a minute."

Not wanting to get caught in such a vulnerable position in case Buffy came back in less than the promised minute, Spike unclamped his jaws and dropped to the floor; Angel rubbed his arm and scowled. Cautiously, Spike returned to his "normal" face as he jumped back onto the couch where Buffy had left him. He wasn't feeling too great himself after this latest beating but he refused to show signs of weakness in front of Angel. "You might as well leave now 'cause I'm not going with you," he said firmly.

"I'm not going without you," Angel replied.

"Looks like we have a standoff, then," Spike pointed out. Which actually was a significant problem. Angel didn't want to budge, and neither did Spike. However, if both remained unwavering, Buffy would definitely discover the truth, and Spike didn't want to be around when did did. It looked like a compromise was a necessary evil. "Make you a deal," Spike offered. "I won't go this minute. Can't. But you give me one more day here and then I'll leave quietly. I just need a little more time."

Angel hesitated; Spike could see him weighing the pros and cons of the deal and hunting for any loopholes. Finally Angel nodded. "Fine. Tomorrow night, at sunset, be outside this house ready to leave. I'll send someone to pick you up."

Spike quickly considered. It seemed like a pretty fair offer. After all, he figured it was about time for him to go anyway. How much longer could he maintain his ruse? He'd already spent almost as much as time in Rome as he'd initially planned. The only tricky part of the matter would be sneaking away from the house without being spotted, but if he was cautious he could manage it. Buffy would probably blame Dawn for her puppet's absence. Dawn would, of course, know of her own innocence but she wouldn't be able to guess the truth. The mystery of the puppet would never be solved. It was all for the best.

"Tomorrow, sunset," he agreed.

Footsteps approached from the kitchen, effectively stopping future communications between the rivals. Spike returned to puppet guise as Dawn and Buffy returned with Angel's sandwich and coffee. The fact that he would soon be leaving weighed heavily on his mind, and he was able to derive only mild enjoyment from the sight of Angel struggling to consume the food and drink he hadn't wanted in the first place. Spike was only too aware that he might never see Buffy or Dawn again after tomorrow afternoon.

TBC