Escape

"Good heavens, Buffy, are you alright?"

Buffy forced a tight smile on her face as she limped into Giles' apartment that night, every square inch of her body aching from her brutal encounter with Spike.

"Peachy," She mumbled dryly, "Thanks for asking."

Brows furrowed tightly together and deepening the creases in his forehead, the watcher disappeared from room for a minute, returning with an arm full of first aid items. Cringing from the pain that resounded throughout her body with every slight movement she made, Buffy took a seat on Giles' couch, curling up at a snail's pace. Giles had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her to move so she wouldn't bleed all over the plush material of his couch. Instead, he merely sighed and moved toward the slayer, taking a moment to survey the damage. Buffy was bruised all over, every joint aching, her head throbbing from where it had hit the gravestone. A large purple bruise covered one whole side of her jaw, the gash on her cheek standing out vividly, swollen and harsh. Bending down, Giles pressed a dampened washcloth to the wound on her cheek in order to clean the dried blood, and Buffy winced at the pressure, raising her hand to take the washcloth from him so she could do it herself. After a moment, she lowered her hand and Giles quickly applied some disinfectant that stung fiercely, then adding a small strip of gauze which was held in place by three small strips of white surgical tape.

"Thank you," Buffy said graciously once he'd finished, and Giles nodded.

When he fetched her two aspirin and a glass of water from the kitchen, however, he returned with a frown plastered on his face. As Buffy swallowed the given pills in order to soothe the pounding in her skull, Giles shook his head and frowned again.

"Quentin won't like this at all."

Unable to resist, Buffy blanched at the mention of the heinous council member, nearly choking on her pills.

"He'll assume you weren't prepared to patrol alone, of course," Giles continued, "Which I'm afraid will make him most unpleasant."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like there's even a 'pleasant' to 'un' in the first place?"

Opening his mouth to speak, Giles quickly closed it again when he realized he couldn't think of any reason to disagree with her.

Suddenly, both were startled when the doorbell sounded unexpectedly, echoing through the cozy apartment. Eyebrows raised, Giles peered at his watch, then at Buffy, looking slightly confused. "Wonder who that could be at this hour? It's nearly midnight."

Striding toward the door, Giles peered through the peephole, turning to face Buffy when he saw who was at the other side. He spoke in a hushed tone so as not to be overheard through the thin wood. "Buffy, it's your mother," He whispered heavily.

Buffy's eyes widened and she gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth and shaking her head. "No, she can't see me like this, Giles! She'll freak! This is exactly the reason why she didn't want me to be the slayer in the first place." Tears sprang to her eyes as she jumped from the couch, ignoring the sharp bursts of pain that reverberated throughout her body in protest. "I don't want her to worry about me," She added softly, biting her lip. "Please, just tell her I'm not here." Then she turned, dashing from the room, and Giles sighed heavily and shook his head before unlocking the door in front of him. Forcing a half smile on his face, he swung the door open.

"Hello, Joyce," He greeted, as pleasantly as he could muster.

"Hello, Rupert," She returned.

Joyce had quickly developed a liking for Rupert, though she was still slightly wary and uncomfortable around him, often acting suspicious of his intentions. He was, after all, still a member of the hated council, and Joyce couldn't bring herself to fully trust any one of them.

"Buffy is still patrolling at the moment," Stated Giles, and Joyce nodded.

"I figured she might be."

Joyce had known that it would be Buffy's first night patrolling alone, as Buffy tried to keep her mother informed about her training schedules. "That's why I'm here, actually," She continued, and her voice lowered, "I needed to speak with you alone." Looking at Giles expectantly for several moments, Joyce waited until he finally took the hint, stepping aside and granting her entrance.

"Won't you come in?" He added for good measure.

Joyce accepted the invitation, brushing past him and waiting as he closed the door behind her.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" Joyce declined politely, her face solemn and clearly one of all business.

"No, thank you," She said, "I have to discuss something serious with you." For the first time, Giles noticed Joyce's frazzled state, her usually perfectly coiffed ash blond hair now in slight disarray, dark circles present under her eyes. Letting out a deep breath, Joyce blurted the reason for her visit.

"I-I think a vampire came to my door."

Giles looked stunned. "Goodness, Joyce, are you alright?" Again, she nodded.

"Yes, I'm fine," Was her soft reply.

Shifting his weight to the other foot, Giles narrowed his eyes slightly, thoroughly puzzled. "Well, did it threaten you?"

Pausing for a moment, Joyce shook her head slowly, and Giles looked slightly perturbed. "How can you be sure it was a vampire, then?" He inquired, and Joyce shrugged in response.

"I can't, I suppose. But he, um... He said he knew Buffy, but..." Running a hand over her hair to smooth it down, she continued, "Something seemed... off about him. The way he was dressed, the way he acted. It was all so suspicious to me... He kept insisting that I invite him inside. He was being polite, for the most part, but I still found it odd, and I remembered what Buffy told me about vampires needing to be invited..." Giles studied Joyce as she spoke, raising his eyebrows when she trailed off.

"And?" He prompted.

Sighing, she continued hesitantly. "When I refused to invite him inside, he became agitated, and he tried to cross the threshold, but it was like he was pushed back by some invisible barrier. So I closed the door and locked it, and a minute later, he was gone."

Removing his glasses, Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"When did this happen?"

"Two days ago," Joyce replied, swallowing hard. "I didn't want to tell Buffy, she's been so busy lately with her training, and..." Joyce's eyes shifted around the room as though making sure there was no one else present to overhear what she was about to say. Wringing her hands together, she spoke again. "This whole thing just reminded me how dangerous Buffy's calling is… And I just worry about her…" Turning to face Giles, she looked him in the eyes, and he noticed the distraught look that that deepened on her face.

"I need you to promise me something," She stated solemnly, and Giles, though perplexed, remained silent and allowed her to continue.

"Promise me you'll keep an eye on her. Make her stay safe. She's my little girl, Rupert," Her eyes were pleading, and Giles could only nod his agreement reluctantly.

"I'll do what I can, Joyce." She looked grateful.

"Thank you."

What followed was a rather awkward silence, until Joyce finally began to move toward the door.

"I'd better be going," She said.

Nodding, Giles opened the door, but as Joyce poised to leave he cleared his throat and stopped her.

"Be careful, Joyce," He stated firmly, "And should you hear anything else from this vampire, I hope you'll inform me immediately?"

Joyce smiled tightly, pursing her lips together. "Of course," She muttered before turning and exiting through the open door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You owe me, Spike."

A threatening voice floated from the darkness behind him, and Spike rolled his eyes in mixed disbelief and irritation. Jaw clenched, Spike lashed out. Not even pausing to think, he spun quickly and smashed his fist into the nose of the thing that had dared threaten him in his present state. Grabbing the back of the stunned vampire's shirt with both hands, Spike threw him as hard as he could, sending him flying through the air several feet before landing with a groan as his face slammed the asphalt.

"Really not in the mood, mate," He said through gritted teeth, not casting another glance at the injured vampire that writhed on the ground, moaning in pain.

Trouble certainly had a way of following Spike everywhere he went, but tonight he was in no mood to deal with any of it, especially not petty gambling debts from a long while back.

Continuing onward towards his new crypt, Spike paused briefly to light a cigarette, taking a long drag as he leaned against a low fence, deep in thought. Feeling only the slightest bit more relaxed as he indulged this habit, he let the smoke fill his body before letting out a steady puff as he sighed, his mind working overtime.

Since he'd met the slayer, she'd been nothing but a thorn in his side. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her, and for some reason had never succeeded in killing her, even when he had the chance.

'So, why didn't you kill her?'

Spike contemplated this for a moment before the answer suddenly dawned on him.

It had been something about seeing her lying beneath him, broken and gasping for breath as her life slowly slipped away, and he couldn't bring himself to do it, to off her once and for all. Something had clicked inside of him, some invisible, unknown force that rendered him physically unable to finish what he started. A pang in his chest, as though a fist had closed around his unbeating heart and started squeezing for all it was worth.

Spike stopped in his tracks when he realized in horror that, in that moment, he actually cared if the slayer died.

Since he'd become a vampire over a century ago, there had only been one other that made him feel this way. His sire...

Drusilla. And she'd left him long ago to canoodle with some slimy chaos demon.

'No. No, no, no, no, no...'

It couldn't be. He couldn't be that stupid to let himself fall for the one person he should have hated more than anything in the world.

But her image floating like a golden vision in his head, serving to both entice and taunt him, told him differently. Somehow she'd wormed her way into his unbeating heart, and he hated her all the more for it, knowing he was doomed. For once Spike fell in love, he dug his heels in and never let go.

'What the fuck did she do?'

Here, he'd try to convince himself that the reason he didn't want to kill her right away was because she wasn't properly trained, because he wanted to wait until she'd prove herself capable of an even fight. He'd sought her out, having every intention of killing her, knowing the council wouldn't care since they mostly thought of Buffy as a failure anyway. But he'd changed his mind once he laid eyes on her in the diner, seeing how broken she was. He'd told himself he didn't want to kill her until she wasn't such an easy target, until she could be more of a challenge to him. But now he knew the real reason.

He'd gone and fallen in love with the stupid bitch.

Spike's eyes widened, and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

'Please no...' He thought desperately.

Of all the things he'd done in his unlife, of all the stupid, rebellious, and unmentionable things, of all the sticky situations he'd gotten himself into, this one had to top them all. Because this time, he'd managed to fall in love with his mortal enemy.

Upset and angry at both himself and at Buffy for whatever the little bint did to make him fall for her, he let out a mighty roar, growling fiercely at the top of his lungs and in effect stunning a small group of fledgling vampires that wandered past him. They took one look at each other before scattering like cockroaches under the light, running off in all different directions.

'I really need something to kill right now,' He thought bitterly. A good spot of violence always made him feel better, and right now he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around something and snap its neck. Grinning, he thought he'd start with the vampire he'd punched earlier, figuring the little git deserved it for threatening him. He'd go back and finish him off. But first, he needed his ring, realizing he hadn't put it back on since his confrontation with Buffy. Feeling inside his pocket where he'd placed the gem earlier, Spike's eyes widened when he found it empty. Mouth dropping open, he proceeded to check every pocket, reaching into the denim of his jeans and also coming up empty.

'Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...'

Yanking off his duster, he shook it violently, praying the gem would fall out of some overlooked seam and everything would be fine again.

But it wasn't.

Cursing loudly, Spike felt the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

The Gem of Amara was missing.

---

A/N: Uh-oh, so the gem is missing. The question is, where is it? Well, we'll find that out soon enough, along with the identity of the mystery vamp that showed up at Joyce's door...
And Spike finally realizes how he feels about Buffy. But what's he going to do now? And don't worry, for those of you who don't like seeing a whipped, love sick Spike, I promise that this story will, for the most part, remain balanced between them. I always like it when they're equals in the relationship (and when there's a good healthy dose of snark and banter between them, lol)
Also, next chapter Quentin will unfortunately be back again to check up on Buffy's progress. I know, I hate the jerk too. But there has to be at least one total bastard in the story, right? lol.
Anyway, again, thanks for the great reviews! Thanks especially to spikestheman, Michelle, Lolita, MarzBar, and chanel 5. Hope you liked this update!