Resolutions

Chapter 9


Spike passed silently through the sleeping house and up the stairs. Upon opening the bedroom door he couldn’t help but pause and smile.


Wide green eyes opened and focused on him, blinked slowly and narrowed in displeasure at the disturbance, then El Diablo turned away in disdain and tucked his nose under his tail to go back to sleep.


Buffy was lying splayed flat out on her belly in the middle of the big bed, fast asleep. The kitten was settled in the cosy nest formed by the V of her legs.


He found it endearing that although when they went to bed at the same time she invariably slid between the covers with him naked, when circumstances dictated that she should retire alone Buffy always seemed to feel the need for some sort of nightwear. This night was no exception. The covers had ridden down slightly showing that yet again she’d decided to sleep in one of his black t-shirts. She’d explained it to him once. It had to be one he’d worn so that even though he wasn’t there, she’d be surrounded by his scent. It was the only way she could get to sleep without him at her side.


Reluctant to spoil the peaceful tableau, Spike hesitated for a moment before giving a little resigned shrug, stepping forward and gently shaking Buffy’s shoulder. As she began to stir he turned to the dresser and dug out a pair of socks and a warm kangaroo-pocket hoody and then picked a pair of yoga pants out of the wardrobe.


Buffy snuffled into the pillow and murmured sleepily, “I’m up mom… I am… honest…”


Chuckling silently, Spike shook her again and then gently encouraged the disgruntled kitten to move over onto an undisturbed part of the bed before the movement of Buffy’s legs could upset him further. “Come on, Slayer. Need you to wake up, sweetheart. Good deeds to do… mysteries to solve…”


Without opening her eyes, Buffy slowly sat up and slid her legs over the side of the bed. Shaking his head in amusement, Spike bent and eased the socks onto her feet, followed by the legs of the yoga pants. He hauled her into a standing position and hitched the pants up to her waist, then held out the sweater. Seeing her sway and begin to fall back onto the bed he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. When she smacked her lips and snuggled sleepily into the soft cotton of his chest his suppressed chuckle burst forth and his jerky movements caused her to shake herself and blink up at him.


“What…?” She cleared her throat, blinked a couple more times and murmured, “What’s the what? Spike…?”


Holding the sweater out again he directed, “Arms.”


On autopilot, she held her arms up and submitted to having the sweater slipped over her head then when he nudged her again she gratefully slumped back down on the bed. “Spike? What…?”


He grabbed a pair of sneakers from under the edge of the bed and dumped them in her lap. “Come on, Slayer, love. Get your shoes on while I pick us out a couple of weapons, we’re on a mission of mercy tonight.” He shrugged, “Leastways… I hope that’s what it’s gonna turn out to be.”


It took five attempts to get the De Soto started but eventually they were moving through the deserted town, by which time Buffy was finally wide awake.


She twisted to look over into the back seat. “The katanas, huh? Are we headed for a fight?”


“That’d be fun wouldn’t it? I’ve been looking forward to giving mine a proper workout. But no, Slayer, probably not. Gotta be prepared, though. Right?”


“So… when’re you gonna let me in on what’s going on then? How come you had to get me up again, I’ve already patrolled once tonight.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Spiiike… Did something bad happen at the poker game? We’re not gonna get accosted by kitten dealing loan sharks again, are we?”


Spike chuckled ruefully, “Never gonna live that one down, am I? No, Slayer. It’s just… you remember that bloke who’s been saying he wanted to talk to me? Finally hooked up with him tonight. Demon, but not one of your slayworthy ones. Kinda half-human hybrid really. He had a tale to tell, was just wary of coming to you personally in case you went all damage bound on him.”


“And this tale means we need to…” Buffy noted the road they’d just turned on to. “…go to the beach?” She asked incredulously.


“Well… Yeah. You remember Clem’s cousin Pavel?”


Earlier that night:


Spike made an irritated ‘pfft’ noise and tossed his hand face down on the table, “I fold. Bloody useless cards.” Never mind that he had two pairs, Jack high. It looked as if he needed to lose a few more hands to get the incredibly nervous demon across the table from him to relax enough to talk. Just as well it wasn’t a kitten game or he’d be stuffed. He peeled another note off his roll to stake the next hand.


They’d been playing for two solid hours and the only words the Lister had uttered since he arrived, apart from the required brief phrases to contribute to the game, were, “You’re the Slayer’s vamp aren’t you? Couldn’t bring myself to look her up ‘cos I heard she worked with them, but then I heard about you...” Then he’d lost his nerve, clammed up, started sweating and only warily glanced up at the vampire occasionally between hands. The sweating was becoming a bit extreme and the consequent pungent odour was beginning to make Spike feel queasy.


It took losing three more hands to the demon so he was down a total of just over two hundred and fifty dollars, before the timid Lister managed to summon up the courage to leave the table and draw Spike outside.


Having tucked his new-found wealth away and out of earshot of the rest of the players, he started talking. “When we got away from the Scourge we decided to move away from LA and find somewhere quiet to live. Most of the clan sailed off in the ship but my wife was expecting our first and felt seasick even while we were still moored to the dock, so we got off the ship and came here. Sunnydale sounded a perfect quiet retreat where our kind wouldn’t stand out, but then it was kinda out of the frying pan into the Initiative, you know?”


“The Scourge? I thought they’d given up their ‘let’s kill all half-breeds’ thing years ago?”


The slight young demon looked over his shoulder, scanning the deserted alley anxiously before continuing, “They come and go… I expect those that survived the fight in LA will go back underground, regroup and recruit and then they’ll pop up again one day. Hopefully after I’m long gone. But anyway… we got away this time. The Promised One sacrificed himself for us, as was foretold in the prophecy. Originally we thought it was going to be that cursed vampire, but as it turned out it was the Blessed Doyle.”


“Doyle? Half-Bracken Mick worked for Angel? Wondered what happened to him…”


“Anyway… as soon as we got here and heard about the disappearances we decided we had to make a run for it… you get that, right?”


“Yeah. Had my own run in with the toy soldiers. Not fun.”


“So… you understand. We got out of town but we had to travel fast and light so we left most of our stuff behind in the cave we’d been sheltering in while I scouted for a new home. Word finally reached us that they’d gone so I came back for it.”


“Haven’t told me anything interesting yet, mate. You gonna get to some kind of point soon? I’d like to get back to my lady sometime tonight.”


“It’s the cave. See, when I found our stuff, some of it was kinda in use…”


Spike’s limited stock of patience abruptly ran out. Having had enough of the Lister’s delaying tactics and subsequent rambling story he vamped out, grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hauled him up close, snarling menacingly through his fangs. “Get to the. Sodding. Point!”


Squeaking in terror, the young demon babbled, “You’ve put the word out for a missing Hr’Iropah demon, yeah? Presumed kidnapped by the soldiers but not heard from since the collapse of the Initiative?”


****


“You think it really could be Pavel in the cave?”


“Just might be, Slayer. The Lister said he was all floppy skinned, but that there was something wrong with his face and he was careful to keep turned so that one of his arms stayed hidden behind him at all times. Seems he wasn’t very talkative and was even more nervous of the Lister than the Lister was of him. Huddled in the back of the cave muttering apologies all the time my poker playing bloke gathered up what stuff he could.”


“If it is him, I wonder why he’s stayed there so long? Why didn’t he go to find Clem?”


“’Spect we’ll find out.”


The heavy old car lurched off the boardwalk onto the sand. “Keep your eyes open for a rock formation that looks like a giant lop-eared rabbit.”


“Uh… you do realise it’s dark out don’t you, Spike? The streetlights don’t exactly reach this far and the moon’s gone behind a cloud…”


Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Spike vamped out and continued to concentrate on keeping to the firm compacted part of the beach, hoping not to getting bogged down in soft sand.


Buffy breathed a sheepish, “Thanks, honey,” and peered anxiously out into the black night.


“There!” The only sound in the peaceful night was the low rumble of the motor and the quiet susurration of the ocean kissing the shore so the sudden loud exclamation made Spike jump. His foot landed heavily on the brake causing the car to slither sideways to a stop. Buffy pointed excitedly off to one side. “Look, is that the rabbitrock?”


Spike muttered irritably, “Bloody hope so.” They’d slowly driven a good couple of miles up the beach and he had been beginning to have serious doubts about the accuracy of the Lister demon’s directions.


Armed with the unsheathed katanas, they were cautiously approaching the dark cliff behind the odd-shaped boulder when the moon came out from behind its cloud. The impenetrable blackness of a narrow cave entrance was suddenly easily distinguishable from the surrounding ruddy brown rock.


As silvery light flooded the scene a startled yelp from behind them caused them both to spin around and crouch in a battle-ready stance, blades raised ready to ward off an attack.


They beheld a strange sight. Silhouetted against the bright moon a hulking figure stood beside the rabbit-shaped rock, hands held up in the classic surrender pose. Incongruously, in one outstretched hand a large crab aimlessly waved its claws in the air and in the other a long slender fish glistened in the moonlight.


“Don’ hur’ me! Pleathe don’ hur’ me!”


Spike blinked and let his fangs and ridges melt away. He refocused and realised that he wasn’t hallucinating. One of those arms was considerably longer and more bulky than the other.


Buffy lowered her weapon and hesitantly asked, “Pavel? Are you Clem’s cousin Pavel?”


Instead of answering, the figure gasped and started backing very slowly away, muttering, “Oh Go’, i’th the thlayer! You’re her, you really are. I thaw you in there.” His voice started to rise in panic, “You were alwayth with tha’ great monthger tha’ helpe’ goo thith go me!”


Flinging his catch away and turning to run away down the beach he cried desperately, “You’re no’ going go ga’e me back in there! I won’ le’ you! You’ll ha’e to gill me! I’g rather gie than go ba’ gown there again!”


Exchanging startled looks, Buffy and Spike gave twin shrugs and trotted after the retreating demon.


As they drew level, Buffy called out, “We’re not with the Initiative! We’re not! Honest! They’ve all gone, now. It’s been nearly two years… We just want to help you!” When she got no response and the big demon kept galumphing along, Buffy gestured urgently for Spike to say something.


“Oy! Stop running, you great lumbering pillock! You’re never going to outrun a vamp and a Slayer, and you know it! The Slayer’s telling you the truth, mate. The Initiative is gone. She finally found out what was really going on down there and shut the sodding place down. When they got together and realised you’d gone missing, my mate Clem and his Aunt Perpalla asked us to see if we could find you.”


“Really?” The big demon shambled to a stop and slowly turned around although he kept his face turned away. “You’re no’ juth thayin’ tha’? Grea’ Aun’ P ith really here in Thunnygale?”


Buffy nodded eagerly. “Oh yes! She’s a darling, isn’t she? She gave us a recipe for the most delicious perrynickers and told me loads of stuff I didn’t know about Slayers.”


Pavel finally relaxed and sighed, “Oh… you really goo know her.” He slumped to sit on a lump of seaweed encrusted rock. “Bu’ ithn’ the gonna ha’e me ‘ike thith…?” He looked up at them, gestured at his face and held out his oversized arm.


Now Pavel was sitting with the moonlight clearly illuminating his features, Spike couldn’t suppress a horrified gasp. The expected droopy ears were there, the big bald dome of a head and the familiar red eyes, but there the similarity between him and his cousin Clem ended.


Pavel’s face had been hacked about mercilessly, leaving him with a hideously deformed mouth and nose, and a crazed pattern of deep purple scars which criss-crossed his forehead, cheeks and chin and continued partway down his flabby throat. Poor bugger, Spike thought, that explained the speech impediment!


As if that wasn’t enough, his left arm clearly wasn’t the one he had been born with. Instead of the customary generous folds of pink flesh, the remnants of his ragged shirt revealed a powerfully muscular limb coated in smooth scaly skin of a deep iridescent green, and it ended in a very impressive cluster of three inch long claws which splayed to display a fine webbed skin spread between them.


Spike glanced aside to see Buffy holding her hand over her mouth, wide-eyed with shock. “Oh God, Pavel!” She breathed, “What did they do to you?”


As the demon gave a forlorn little shrug, Buffy took a deep breath and firmly ordered, “Spike, call Clem now and let him know we’ve found Pavel.” She laid a soothing hand on the demon’s natural arm and gently told him, “You don’t have to hide any more, Pavel. I’m sure Clem and Perpalla will look after you and get you back to your family safely.”


Fat tears began trickling down the creases in the ravaged face. He sobbed helplessly and pleaded, “Grea’ Aun’ P?”


Buffy gave a determined little nod and dug in her pocket for her own cellphone. “I’ll call her myself! She doesn’t live very far away and she could be here with you in just a few minutes.”


Spike already had his phone out and he carefully selected the right buttons to connect to the cellphone left at the crypt for contacting Clem and Nathan in emergencies.


“Clem, mate. Got some good news and some bad news for ya.” He shook his head impatiently as his friend started jabbering about the TV programme he had interrupted. “Belt up, Clem! This is important! Guess who the Slayer and I found tonight?”


****


Clem’s little red VW beetle chugged happily away down the beach on the first leg of the journey to get Pavel back to the bosom of his family. Buffy leaned back against Spike, his arms loosely circling her shoulders as he sat on the wing of the DeSoto. “Do you think he’s gonna be all right? I know Perpalla said she’d take care of him, but…”


“Dunno, Slayer. He’s been hiding out down here for so long, thinking those wankers were still after him… and it ain’t gonna be easy for him, being so disfigured.”


“I didn’t really get what Perpalla said about his… mandibles, was it?”


“Ah. Gonna have to get Clem to show you his scary face one of these days, Slayer. Such a peace-loving species needs a bit of a defence now and then when they’re threatened. They’ve got these… tendrils, I suppose you could call ‘em. When they get in a tight spot they can kinda open up their faces and flash what look uncomfortably like poisonous snakes out atcha. Startles an attacker, makes them think twice and gives the Hr’Iropah a few seconds start.”


Buffy turned in his arms and raised her eyebrows at him, giving a little shudder of distaste. “Ew, snakes.” She stretched up on tip-toe for a brief kiss and then opened the passenger door and wearily climbed in. “Come on, Spike. Let’s go home.”


Once more it took several attempts to get the car started, but eventually they were retracing their tracks back along the beach.


“So what’s so important about these snakey thingies then?”


“Makes you wary of something that looks as if it’s gonna bite ya if you attack, dunnit? I think they may have a vital role in their mating rituals too. That sadistic bloody bitch in the Initiative must have had some use for them and ripped them outta the poor sod’s face. God knows why he had the arm transplant, though, unless they started playing musical limbs when they were trying them on for size for Mr Bits.” Spike wondered uneasily whether it would be wise to mention his suspicions about the identity of the ‘great monster’ who had had a hand in the mutilation of the gentle demon.


A few moments passed in silence before Buffy spoke again, “And so when he escaped in the big fight he just ran ‘til he ran out of land and hid on the beach. He must have been so scared he avoided contact with anyone and lived on the crabs and fish he caught, and had no idea that it was safe to come out again. It’s a bit like that old soldier mom told me about once. He was the last survivor of a Japanese unit on an island in the Philippines and kept on fighting until the seventies ‘cos he couldn’t accept the Japanese had surrendered and second world war was really over.”


After a few more minutes quiet, Spike reluctantly made a decision and turning to look at his tired Mate he hesitantly ventured, “Slayer… you know when Pavel said about a ‘great monster’…”


Buffy heaved a huge sigh and slumped sideways to rest her forehead on the cool glass of the window. Staring blindly out into the night she whispered sadly, “I’m not stupid, Spike. I know he was talking about Riley. It just goes to show. You think you know someone so well… and then bit by bit you’re forced to accept you never really knew them at all…”


Spike watched a single tear slip slowly down Buffy’s cheek and was aware of the quiet hollow sadness she was feeling but before he could think of something to say that wouldn’t get him yelled at, there was a loud crunching and grinding noise and the car was jerked to a sudden stop. As his nose met the steering wheel he reflexively shot his right arm out to prevent Buffy sliding off the seat and crashing into the dashboard.


“Shit!” He angrily punched the steering wheel with both fists as he realised what had happened. In his concern for Buffy, he’d taken his eyes off the beach ahead and he’d driven straight into a big boulder.


****


Heavily laden with the katanas and the rest of the weapons that they hadn’t wanted to risk leaving for other people to find stored in the trunk of the wrecked car, the blonde duo trudged homewards through the silent pre-dawn streets.


Spike was sulking about Buffy’s cavalier attitude to the irreparable damage caused to his precious DeSoto by its encounter with an inconveniently positioned hunk of rock. It wasn’t every day that you had to say goodbye to a classic vehicle you’d prized and nurtured through more than forty years of faithful service, even if for half that time it had been laid up in storage when you’d been on the other side of the world. As far as he was concerned it was quite natural for him to be upset, but what had she said?


“So… the beast is dead. Are you going to get a nice modern car now? A comfortable one that doesn’t smell ooky? One that actually works and has seat belts and airbags and air conditioning and electric windows and won’t bring down the property values of the whole neighbourhood when you park it on the drive?”


As they walked along she babbled away, ignoring his sullen silence and the tense set of his shoulders as he refused to respond to her excited chatter.


“Ooh! Can I help you choose it? Ooh! Can we get a convertible? Ooh! Ooh! can we get one of the new Mustangs? A white one?” She flipped her hair and mused dreamily, “I’m sure I’d be able to drive a Mustang convertible. I’d look fine in a white convertible… the top down in the sun as I drive through town… I’d be wearing the latest designer sunglasses… a long white silk scarf holding my hair out of my face and fluttering fetchingly in the breeze…”


She soon stopped yammering on about a fancy car when they had to retreat into the sewers to avoid Mr Sunshine and the early morning commuter traffic that would have looked askance at their load of swords and axes and other assorted weaponry. Instead she’d started moaning about the filth underfoot getting on her nice new sneakers and how she’d have to throw out yet another pair. And the smell. It seemed that every five paces she was complaining about the funky smell.


Spike’s mood hadn’t improved any by the time they got to the access ladder up to the manhole on the corner of Revello Drive. They carefully stacked most of the weapons on a dry patch of floor to collect later but Buffy clutched the precious katanas as she climbed up and held the manhole cover open so Spike could pull his duster over his head and race to the safety of the house.


Spike burst through the front door, Buffy following closely behind. They walked straight into what looked like an argument. It broke off at their entrance and Dawn leapt up from her seat at the dining table, flew at her sister and wrapped her arms around her, “Buffy! You’re back! Thank God you’re safe! You weren’t in your room and Spike wasn’t there either and I got scared and called Giles but he didn’t know where you were either and then after she’d made breakfast Tara had to go to an early class so I had to call Xander to give me a ride to school ‘cos I didn’t know where you were or when you’d be back and I was trying to get Giles to do a locator spell…”


Buffy chuckled ruefully and combed her fingers soothingly through Dawn’s long silky locks. “Breathe, Dawnie. Breathe! I’m fine, we’re fine. We just had to go out for a while and then Spike’s car died so we took longer than we expected.” She grimaced guiltily. “Perhaps I should have left a note or something, but I was still half asleep until a mile or so down the road and I didn’t think of it.”


Dawn released her, straightened up, folded her arms over her chest and raised an angry eyebrow, glaring accusingly at her sister.


Buffy took a nervous step backwards and raised her right hand as if taking an oath. “I, Buffy Anne Summers, Vampire Slayer Extraordinaire, do solemnly swear I’ll leave a note next time I have to go out in the middle of the night to find long-lost demons. Okay, Dawnie?” She began to turn away to go through to the kitchen when she had a thought. With a wicked smirk she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and held it up. “Remind me again why you suggested we should get these, Dawnie?”


Dawn’s eyes went very wide and her face filled with colour. “Oh God! I like so totally forgot about the cellphones! I could have called you to find out what was going on!” In her embarrassment she ducked away and muttered, “I’ll just put these crossbows and stuff away for you. We can’t have El Diablo going the way of Miss Kitty Fantastico. Tara’s only just forgiven me for that…”


Meanwhile, Giles finished his mouthful and stood from his seat at the dining table, asking eagerly, “Buffy? Do you mean to say you found Clem’s cousin?”


Buffy abruptly crumpled into tears and charged her Watcher, clamping her arms around him and inhaling the comforting scent of Old Spice, well-worn wool and musty books, “Oh Giles, poor Pavel, what they did to him. Why did I ever think the Initiative were the good guys? He was so scared of me, he’d seen me down there with Riley and thought I’d come to take him back in so they could do more experiments on him. He didn’t know they’d shut up shop. We finally managed to convince him we wanted to help and then we called Perpalla and Clem to come collect him and they’re going to take him home and try to get him some help.”


“Ooof! Mind the ribs, Buffy.”


“Oh, sorry…” Buffy released her Watcher and swiped at her teary eyes with her fingers. “It was bad, Giles, very bad, but I think he might just be okay once he’s back with his family.”


Giles regarded the silently sulking vampire thoughtfully. “I can’t help thinking we were remiss when you came to us, Spike. We never asked what they did to you in the Initiative, apart from inserting the behaviour modification chip in your brain.”


Spike drew himself up and tried to project an air of dignified resentment. “No, you didn’t, did you. All you were interested in was making sure that I couldn’t bite.” He shook his head in disgust, “Things you wouldn’t do to a stray dog. In fact if it had been dogs they were experimenting on, your pathetic little do-gooder scruples would have jumped up and bitten you in the conscience and you’d have been up in arms the moment you heard about it, but because it was demons you didn’t give it a second thought… no matter that most of us are just as sentient as dogs, if not considerably more so.”


He flopped down onto one of the dining room chairs and snagged a rasher of bacon off the plate in front of Xander. Keeping his eyes averted from the humans in the room to avoid seeing pity in their eyes, he absently picked at it and through an uncomfortable lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat he quietly explained, “As it goes, I didn’t remember most of what they did ‘til after. For a long time I thought it was just the chip, you know? I could remember getting tasered and caught, and then it seemed the very next thing, I was waking up in one of those blinding white holding cells and tricking my way out. Thing of it is, I worked out afterwards that I must have been in there at least a week. Started getting flashbacks when Dru had me doped up to take the sodding thing out. Reckon I was probably drugged for most of their so-called tests too and a repeat dose must have triggered my subconscious memories, or something.”


“Oh Spike…” Dawn whispered sympathetically and gave him a quick hug around his shoulders, then she caught a glimpse of her watch and let out a startled, “Eep! Sorry, but now I know you’re both safe I gotta get my stuff ready for school. I can’t afford any more tardys…” and she went charging off up the stairs.


Buffy came and leaned against him and gently ruffled his hair. “You should have told…” But whatever she had intended to add got smothered by a huge yawn. She murmured sleepily, “Oh dear… Long night… I need my bed… Thank God I don’t have to drag myself off to Doublemeat Hell any more…”


Spike reached around and patted her on the bottom. “Go on up, Slayer. I’ll join you when I’ve got rid of the hordes…”


“Um… Okay honey…” Another yawn threatened to dislocate her jaw as she gave a little wave to Giles and Xander and turned to follow her sister, but at a considerably slower rate of speed. “G’ni’ Giles… Xander.”


The three men sat around the table in an awkward silence until Xander commented, “So… Buffy mentioned your car died?”


“I bloody killed it, more like,” Spike muttered bitterly. “Had that car since it was a few months old, won it in a poker game in Vegas. Never let me down once. Then tonight I just took my eyes off the road for a second and this bloody great boulder jumped out at it… Wasn’t even going that fast, but the whole front end…” He gestured helplessly, indicating the concertina effect that had afflicted his precious baby and then nodded towards the stairs. “She doesn’t understand. She immediately started going on about getting a convertible.” He demanded plaintively, “Can you see me driving a white Mustang sodding convertible? I’d be even more of a laughing stock than I already am!”


Buffy’s puzzled voice came floating down the stairs, “But I don’t understand! It was a big old wreck anyway and mustangs are so totally cool!”


Spike clenched his jaw angrily to prevent himself from saying something Buffy would later force him to regret. To his surprise Xander shook his head and murmured sympathetically, “Oh man, that’s way harsh.” He called up to Buffy, “It’s a man thing, Buff. It takes testosterone to understand the pain of the passing of a well-loved car, and it’s just plain cruel to suggest a possible replacement until a respectable mourning period has passed.”


Giles nodded wisely and added, “And a real man, an English man, would never drive such an effeminate car as a white convertible.”


“Nah, too right.” Spike smirked as he got in a little dig, “It’s gotta be red, eh, Watcher?”


Giles smiled and nodded as he stood to take his leave. “That’s right, red.” He thought for a second and conceded, “Or possibly black.” He paused at the open front door and turned to suggest, “I think it might be wise for you to spend some time at the crypt with Nathan each night while Clem’s away looking after Pavel, Spike. He’s been coping magnificently and doing some very good work but I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of leaving him to his own devices for an extended period. Have you any idea how long Clem might be gone?”


“Not a bloody clue, mate.” Spike considered for a few moments. “Tell you what, I’ll take the Blackadder DVDs down there and educate the lad in one of the classics of English comedy. Can’t watch them here ‘til the new furniture arrives anyway, if it ever does.”


Giles nodded, “Good idea.” He called up the stairs, “I’m off now, Buffy. Get some rest, dear girl. You know what they say….”


“Yes Giles. I know, I know… A tired Slayer is a careless Slay…” Buffy’s reply was cut off by yet another noisy yawn. “Bye, Giles. Going to sleep now….”


As Giles disappeared down the path, Dawn came thundering back down the stairs with her book bag and took a slight diversion to snatch a pancake. “Bye, Spike. Gotta fly…” She used a slightly sticky hand to follow her sister’s example and ruffle his hair then continued out of the open front door, “Come on Xand… gonna be late….”


Xander shrugged and trailed after her, joking, “She still hasn’t got me the smart chauffer’s cap I asked for, you know. I think I’ve earned one, don’t you?”


Spike chuckled wearily as he closed and locked the door behind them all, then slowly made his way up the stairs. Buffy was already in bed and as he shed his clothes on his way across the room she lifted the covers to let him slip in beside her. She flinched away briefly yelping, “Ooh! Cold feet!” Then deliberately curled into him, twined one leg around his and wrapped an arm around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder as another yawn attacked. “Ooooooh. G’ni’, honey….”


It only took a few moments for the first quiet ladylike snore to erupt, and Spike relaxed and smiled in amusement down at the beautiful face now smooshed inelegantly into his chest. He carefully wriggled into a more comfortable position then watched warily as the kitten clambered up onto the foot of bed, walked purposefully up his body and kneaded the comforter on his chest beside Buffy’s nose before settling down to join them in slumber.


In the seconds until he fell asleep himself, he wondered in a thoroughly bemused fashion how this strange wonderful woman had so completely domesticated him that he was content to sleep with a pestiferous kitten drooling on his chest. Balls, he thought wryly, he was turning into such a ponce.

---

God, he was so bored.


Spike sat leaning against a conveniently shaped rock and gazed out over the bleak landscape. Moss and rocks. And more rocks, oh and in case he’d missed it, there was some more moss. Nothing stirred in the constant dim twilight and the only sound was the clomping of his boots and the rustling of his coat as he moved, and his deep heartfelt sighs of utter boredom.


Giles had repeatedly assured him that this dimension would be safe, but he hadn’t warned him it would be quite so… depressing. He could really do with a good fight to cheer himself up right about now.


He’d spent the first twenty minutes or so in this dimension trying to quell the panic that had overwhelmed him at the loss of his connection to Buffy. He still felt empty and totally bereft, but at least the uncontrollable screaming and sobbing had stopped and he’d been able to calm his hysterical demon down enough to be able to resume his human face.


Once he’d more or less recovered his composure and remembered where he was, he’d raced to the nearest high point to get a good panoramic view and carefully scrutinise the area for potential threats. He could see clearly for miles in every direction and there was… nothing. No point going exploring, then. Besides, the Watcher had a theory for the fact that they’d returned so far out of town last time.


He had suggested that the distance travelled from the original arrival point in an alternate dimension would be mirrored in the home dimension, so if he moved away from his original arrival point he’d pop back to Sunnydale an equivalent distance from his departure point. He didn’t want to risk landing in the desert at risk from the rising sun or miles out to sea with no idea which way to swim, so he stayed put, hoping to be zapped back in the field he’d left from. At least there he’d only be a few steps from shady trees if he was unlucky enough to arrive in daylight.


He had then spent a few minutes going through the backpack Giles had handed him before the test. Apart from a handy assortment of weaponry he found several packets of pig’s blood, a first-aid kit, a bottle of water, a large bar of chocolate, an unopened packet of cigarettes, a small sealed pot of Tara’s special healing potion and a spare t-shirt.


During the following few hours he chain-smoked the cigarettes and munched the chocolate as he paced impatiently back and forth waiting to be zapped back to Sunnydale.


Coming to the belated conclusion that the transfer wasn’t going to be instantaneous after all, he’d gone through his regular daily work-out routine as well as he could without the equipment he’d accumulated in the Summers’ basement.


He’d amused himself for hours by reciting as many limericks as he could remember and then tried to think up a few original ones based upon the Scoobies’ names. Most of the smutty verses came quite easily and he’d enjoyed poking fun at the Watcher and the whelp in particular. (The fact that ‘Giles’ rhymed so exactly with ‘Piles’ and ‘Xander’ with ‘Pander’ were gifts he couldn’t pass up) But then he’d found it impossible to find a rhyme for ‘Anyanka’ and even struggled to find one for ‘Anya’, finally having to go with ‘can ya?’. He’d eventually given up in frustration when nothing that made any sense whatever would rhyme with ‘Tara’.


He’d worked through some forms with his emerald sword.


He’d sung a few of his favourite songs to break the eerie silence, going through the motions of providing a guitar accompaniment using the sword as a prop, and then he’d run out of ideas and just sat on the damp moss waiting to be drawn back home through his own personal portal.


He wasn’t very good at waiting.


He had a sudden thought and started rummaging through his pockets in the hope of finding something to ease the tedium of his lonely vigil but there was nothing. He wistfully recalled the little poetry book he’d finally summoned up the courage to take from his duster pocket to show Buffy, and which now resided on his night table. Next time they did this portal thing he’d make a point of pocketing a couple of books in case he needed to keep himself occupied.


The memory of the quiet revelation that Buffy also loved poetry brought a small smile to his lips. Her reaction to his hesitant admission to the authorship of the ‘effulgent’ poem was a golden moment in a series of fond memories of the lazy hours they’d spent snuggled together in bed with him reading his favourites out loud to her and reciting others from memory. He would cherish it for the rest of his unlife.


He’d dismissed any claim to talent and expressed bewildered disbelief that anyone would have wished to preserve his pathetic efforts, but her response had been intensely satisfying.


“Spike, I don’t think you’ve got the hang of poetry. One of the most important things I learned last year in poetry class is that it’s not about finding the perfect rhyme or calculating the exact meter. It’s about the emotions your words evoke, the sentiment they convey. If you recite poetry to me I’m going to love it simply because it’s coming from you, showing me how you feel. I know you said you wrote this for that awful stuck up cow Cecily, but I think it’s beautiful despite that ‘cos it reveals just how romantic William was… and you still are. Your adoration of her shrieks from every syllable. She was a stupid ignorant bitch to reject you… but I’m so glad she did or I would never have met you.”


She’d also been smugly gleeful at the revelation of his human surname. “I always wondered, ‘specially after Will’s ‘will be done’ spell and all the wedding planning, but when you wouldn’t tell me then, I figured I’d never know and then after the spell was broken I wasn’t interested enough to keep asking. It’s a good name. I like it. It fits, when you think about it, doesn’t it? Kinda follows the whole yin and yang theme we’ve got going.” At his anxious pleading she had assured him, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the secret. I know you don’t want the Council to go poking into your background.”


His memory of her reaction the first time he’d jumped to close one of Dawn’s portals led him to fret continually about how she was coping with their extended separation. He desperately hoped Xander Harris was taking his promise seriously and was looking after her.


His thoughts of Buffy naturally progressed to a contemplation of Dawn. He frowned as he acknowledged to himself that her behaviour in the past week or so had been a bit ‘off’. When she was aware of being observed she’d been the usual mercurial teenager trying to get away with whatever she could. One minute she’d be so happy and carefree she practically bounced, and the next she’d be so angry her shrieks would literally hurt his ears and the whole house would shake from the force of doors being slammed.


When she thought she was alone, however, she had sometimes gazed off into space looking so sad and scared he’d longed to wrap his arms around her and never let go. It was obvious something was troubling her deeply, but equally obvious that she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.


It was only when he woke up that he realised he’d been asleep and he’d lost his grip on his sword which had tumbled a few yards down the mossy slope he was resting on.


He had no idea how much time had passed since his arrival in this dismal place, but it must have been some time as his stomach was growling at him. Even though he hadn’t drunk very much from Buffy before jumping as the blood that filled his body was already practically all Slayer, he thought he should have been able to go at least a couple of days before feeling an urgent need to feed again.


He grimaced in disgust as he bit into a bag of cold pigs’ blood and started drinking. After weeks on an exclusive diet of Buffy it was even more revolting than he remembered and he couldn’t finish it.


That was when the intended purpose of the bar of chocolate Giles had stowed in the backpack occurred to him. He ranted angrily at himself for his stupidity at eating it all earlier so he was forced to spend the next few hours with the nauseating taste of swine in his mouth.


It was ages before it occurred to him to use a few mouthfuls of the bottled water to rinse his mouth out.


He ruefully accepted that with the constant gnawing ache of the hole in his heart where Buffy should be, his thinking processes were even more impaired than usual.


He sat down and deliberately took stock of his situation. This led to his reluctant acceptance that he was getting increasingly apprehensive about how much longer he might have to wait. He still didn’t know whether he needed to be in physical contact with the emerald sword for the return portal to work so to prevent himself from accidentally dropping it again he tore a strip off the spare t-shirt to bind his left hand securely to the hilt.


He continued to pass the time alternating between frantic activity to divert himself from his isolation, and dwelling anxiously upon the length of his stay and what might be happening in Sunnydale during his absence. From time to time he would fall into a restless sleep troubled by disturbing dreams he couldn’t quite remember when he woke.


The third time he woke he was dismayed to find that the remaining pig’s blood had gone off. His preoccupation with that discovery however, only lasted until he noticed that the erection he had sported constantly since the night of the Claim had finally subsided. It felt… strange. He had become so accustomed to the sensation of the intimate pressure against rough denim, the persistent background level of arousal ready to flare into all-consuming lust at the slightest stimulation, he felt curiously betrayed by his body.


This led him to have a thorough wank, just so he could reassure himself that all his bits were still in full working order. Without his inner awareness of Buffy’s excitement and satisfaction though, without her warm vital presence and her enticing scent enveloping him, the experience was empty and meaningless. Consequently after a fleeting moment of relief he was left feeling even more lonely and depressed than before.


Time continued to pass as slowly as it always seemed to when he was waiting for something. He tried to keep himself occupied but his steadily growing hunger and his consequent slow loss of strength and energy inevitably began to affect his mood. It eventually reached the stage when he only got up to indulge in a brief bout of frenetic physical activity when he just couldn’t stand sitting still for a second more.


The portal, when it eventually formed, took him completely by surprise. One moment he was fighting a fierce battle with an imaginary marauding dragon, leaping and spinning as he slashed at it with the emerald sword and yelled obscene insults at it at the top of his voice, and the next moment there was a second of painful disorientation and he was tumbling onto cool springy moonlit grass.


He lay quite still, closing his eyes in absolute bliss as Buffy flowed back into him. She was feeling surprise, relief and after a beat, loving concern.


He rolled easily into a sitting position and opened his eyes. He had just enough time to unwind the scrap of t-shirt to release the sword from his hand and brace himself for impact.


“You’re back! You’re back already! God, I missed you…” Buffy was raining kisses over his face and head as she ran her hands over him, checking not very subtly for injuries.


Wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into his lap he was able to see past her to where Althanea, Giles and the Scoobies were standing beside the SUV, grinning over at them. He frowned when he saw they were all wearing the same clothes as the day he had jumped. He cupped Buffy’s face in his hands to still her frantic movements and hold her away from him so he could look in her brimming eyes. “Buffy, love. How long was I gone?”


She shrugged self-consciously, brushing at her spilling tears with her fingers. “Just a few minutes, I barely had time to work up a good panic.” Sensing his confusion she gently asked, “How long was it for you... where you were?”


Suddenly very aware of the previous time these same questions had been asked and answered, Spike simply murmured sadly, “Longer,” and pulled her close again, burying his face in her hair to fill himself with her scent.


After a few long moments Buffy disentangled herself from his grasp, tugged him to his feet, helped him sheathe the sword and took him by the hand to drag him over towards the others, petulantly complaining, “Couldn’t you have found me something to hit? I was so looking forward to killing something." When she noticed everyone giving her funny looks she shrugged sheepishly. "That sounded a lot less psychotic in my head."


Giles smiled and gave Spike, Buffy and Dawn, who had attached herself to Spike’s other side, an appreciative little nod. “So... everything went well then. It looks as if you’re ready to use a portal whenever you need to.” He focused on Dawn. “We’ve already prepared the formula for you to get to several possible relatively innocuous dimensions. Now we know the basic system works, your main task from now on will be to research and prepare for as many more alternatives as you possibly can, both harmless and uh… not. You never know when you may be called to make a portal for a jump out of danger, or even possibly to enable Buffy and Spike to send a demon away somewhere… unpleasant.”


While Dawn grinned happily at the prospect of more exciting research, the group started to break up. All the backpacks that had been prepared ‘just in case’ were tossed into the back of the SUV, Giles repeatedly reminding everyone smugly that he’d told them they would prove unnecessary, despite the fact that his own carefully packed bag was sent to join the others.


Althanea led Tara and Willow towards her hire car, warmly congratulating Willow upon her skill in holding her position in the protection spell the trio had erected around the field while maintaining her self-control in the presence of the wild portal magic that could have disrupted her concentration.


Buffy turned towards Spike’s motorbike that she’d ridden pillion to what they’d started calling ‘The Portal Field’ to fetch their helmets while Giles opened the door of the SUV for Anya to clamber into the front passenger seat as Dawn and Xander got in the back. Giles called towards the other two vehicles, “Straight to the Magic Box, please. We have an awful lot to get through this evening…”


Spike grabbed Giles’ sleeve to delay him. “Uh… that dimension I went to… it was safe, yeah, but it was so bloody depressing… grey and kinda empty.”


“Well I’m sorry about that, Spike, but I really didn’t consider the need to keep you entertained when…”


Spike shook his head impatiently. “’S’not that I mind so much, I coped. Used to keeping myself amused ain’t I?” He resolutely set his jaw and continued accusingly, “No… thing of it is… you never said anything about the time difference.”


Giles looked puzzled. “Time difference?”


“Yeah. See, Buffy said I was only gone a few minutes?”


“That’s right. It couldn’t have been more than five or ten minutes.”


“Well… at my end your five or ten minutes was more like a couple of weeks. The bloody… er… blood went off, and even if it hadn’t I’d have run out. Not as much as a sodding mouse to hunt… got a bit hungry-like.”


Giles turned to Anya who was looking away with an expression of artful innocence. He shook his head in disappointment as he gently chided her, “Anya, my dear. You failed to mention that time passed differently in the dimension you recommended…”


She sniffed and shrugged defensively, “Well I forgot, okay? I can’t be expected to remember everything. I’ve been to a lot of different dimensions over the centuries, it’s difficult to keep them all straight in my head. You should be grateful I teleported over to check it really was the mossy one that came without a sun or homicidal demons.” She looked around to see Giles’ disapproving expression and her righteous indignation crumbled. She guiltily muttered, “Perhaps I’ll just go on ahead and order the pizzas ready for the meeting…” and then there was a soft ‘pop’ as she vanished into thin air.


“Hey! Anya disapparated! Cool! I wish I could get about as easily as that! I’d never be late for school again! Oh! Hey, Giles, do you think I could open a portal to somewhere else in this dimension? It would be so cool to be able to take us all somewhere good for a holiday… Ooh! Or shopping! Do you think I might be able to get Buffy and me to New York for the sales? ’Cos… Fifth Avenue!”


Giles chuckled as he got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Dawn…”


Spike gave a resigned sigh as he realised he had already been forgotten and he slowly turned towards the motorbike only to be brought up short to find Buffy immediately behind him, gaping at him in shock. “Two weeks?” she whispered incredulously.


“Dunno exactly, no real days to count by…”


“God, you must be so hungry…” She laid the crash helmets down at her feet, reached past him and gripped the frame of the open window to hold back the SUV that had just started moving. After the wheels had spun for a few futile seconds on the slippery grass, Giles stopped trying to drive away and looked round in bewilderment.


“Giles, Spike is so hungry. I can’t believe we sent him there for all that time without…” She shook her head slowly and took a deep calming breath. “We’ll see you in a few minutes, okay? Spike has to have something to eat first.” She muttered to herself guiltily as she shrugged out of her coat and unfastened her portal necklace, “I knew I sensed there was something wrong… I just couldn’t figure out what. I was feeling extra hungry but I thought I was just looking forward to the pizza. I should’ve realised…”


“Buffy! You can’t mean you’re going to…” Xander’s horrified protest abruptly broke off as he registered Buffy’s angry glare directed at him.


Giles took his glasses off for a quick polish and sighed. “I can see you’re determined. Very well. We’ll see you at the Magic Box as soon as you can make it, Buffy.” He hesitated for a moment then transferred his gaze to the surprised vampire and added softly, “Please be careful…”

TBC…


A/N:
As far as I’ve been able to determine, Clem’s species has never been specified in canon so I’ve taken the liberty of naming it.

Also, I know Joss once said in an interview that William’s surname was ‘Pratt’, but I’ve chosen to treat that as a joke. William deserved a much classier name than that! I’ve picked out something that I consider fitting which I shall reveal in due time. Eventually.