Broken Circles

By Larilyn

Larilyn1@hotmail.com

www.geocities.com/larilyn1975

Disclaimer: Joss owns Buffy et al. "Broken Circles" written and performed by Aruna. No copyright infringement intended.

Rating: R

Summary: What if Angel had never been cursed with a soul? How would that change Spike?

This takes place during the fifth season of B:tVS around Fool For Love. Things in Sunnydale are very different without Angel & Spike’s interference. Answer to a challenge on Buffy/Spike diaries.

"Don't you get tired of fights you know you're gonna win?"

Spike to Angelus, Fool for Love

Chapter Five

"You’re studying the Romanovs," Spike commented at Buffy’s open history book. "Anastasia..." he murmured as he traced the picture in the book with his fingers.

"You knew her?" Buffy asked, curiosity brightening her sad face.

"Yeah," Spike smiled at the memory. "I knew her."

"So," Buffy’s curiosity ebbed, "Did you know Rasputin?"

"Yeeeaah," he wondered why she cared. Buffy seemed suddenly eager, even while the tear stains marred her lovely face.

"Was he…?"

"Grigori Demon. Fallen Angel."

"I knew it! I knew he was a demon." Buffy smiled widely, "I mean he was like impossible to kill."

"He’s dead now, Slayer." Buffy gave him a skeptical look and so he explained, "I killed him. Did it for the bird." He gestured toward the textbook.

"Tell me." She begged, and then remembering his past reaction to her prying she added, "I mean, if you don’t mind."

***

"Madeline is dead!" Angelus made the grand pronouncement to his companions. Only Darla seemed to care.

"What have you heard?" She asked giddily.

"It doesn’t bode well for us, I’m afraid. Several demons report that they have faced the new Slayer right here in Petrograd."

This peaked Spike’s interest, "The Slayer lives here?"

"Not just any Slayer, William, my boy, but a fresh one. Easier to kill."

Spike rolled his eyes at his sire, "Don’t want one that’s easy to kill. I like a good fight."

"We all know about your brawling habits, Spike," Darla chastised, "And you will do nothing to draw her attention. A Slayer is a Slayer. Fresh or not."

"Madeline…" Drusilla stared at her hands as if there were something fascinating about them, "Madeline the Vampire Slayer… She died on her feet…"

"Did you see her death, luv?" Spike asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"It was poetry."

The girl moved with the grace and power of the Slayer that she was. She dispatched the two vampires quickly and quipped, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." She gave one of the dust piles a swift kick and added, "To dust."

With the force of her playful kick, the Slayer’s cloak slipped from her head. She quickly restored it to its former position and glanced around to see if she had been observed.

From the shadows, Spike murmured, "Well I’ll be buggered. A bloody Grand Duchess is the Slayer."

Drusilla circled the Grigori demon, touching him as she went around and around. "He’s so lovely."

"Ah, and so are you, dear child." Rasputin took Dru in his arms and clenched her close.

Spike sulked in the corner, angry at Dru for her behavior and Angelus for bringing the monk to their lair, "A Grigori demon named Grigory. Trifle redundant innit?"

The mysterious monk answered, "Sometimes it is best to hide in plain sight, child."

"I am not your child!" Spike spit.

"You’ll have to excuse William," Angelus apologized, "What he lacks in style and manners he makes up for in pure cunning."

"I quite understand." Then looking directly at Spike, Rasputin admonished, "I prefer not to be called a demon. I am an angel."

While Drusilla still clung to the demon, Spike answered with, "A fallen angel if I remember my demonology correctly. Banished from heaven for committing sins of the flesh with the humans."

"Pleasures of the flesh, not sins," He corrected, then devoured Drusilla’s mouth.

Spike wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of it all. Darla had warned him not to draw the attention of the Slayer and there she was, shaking the girl’s hand, oblivious to her true identity.

Anastasia was a pleasant enough hostess, entertaining and funny, but in Spike’s eyes, she seemed a little preoccupied.

As the night wore on she retreated to the edges of the crowd, undoubtedly attempting to slip out and patrol.

When she did escape, Spike followed her.

As she reached the edge of the cemetery, she felt his presence. "Is someone there?"

Spike stepped out of the shadows. " ‘Lo luv."

"Monsieur William, what are you doing out here?"

"I followed you." He explained.

"You…" she backed away from him slowly, "Whatever for?"

"Slayer instincts kicking in, eh?"

Anastasia pulled a stake from her cloak. She was focusing so intently on Spike that she didn’t feel the presence of the other two vampires coming up behind her.

Spike impulsively made a decision, "Behind you!"

Anastasia fought the two vamps bravely, but she was young and outnumbered. Another impulse pulled Spike into the fray. Suddenly William the Bloody was fighting alongside Anastasia the Vampire Slayer.

She dispatched the first and in the ultimate act of trust, threw Spike her stake so he could dust the other.

As she coughed out the vampire dust that had entered her lungs, the Slayer said, "You shouldn’t have followed me, Monsieur William."

The vampire handed her the stake back and corrected, "Spike."

"Spike. What are you? Vampyre?"

It was utterly charming, the way she pronounced it. Vampeer. Spike chuckled, "I’m a friend, luv. S’all you need to know."

"And your companions? Monsieur Angelus?"

"Utterly and completely evil. Just like your friend Rasputin."

"Grigory? He is not evil. He is my mother’s dearest friend."

"Really…" Spike drawled, "That what your instincts tell you, luv?"

The Slayer steeled herself, "My instincts tell me…." She deflated a bit and admitted, "That he will be the downfall of us all."

"I want to help you, Slayer."

They walked across the Petrovsky bridge at dusk. To an outside observer they could have been young lovers.

"I know of a plot, Nastasia, to rid you of your problem. I’m going to see to it."

"Grigory?" she asked.

Spike nodded in response.

"Be careful my friend."

Anastasia picked up a stone and tossed it into the river, watching it sink to the bottom.

"Why the long face, luv?"

"I believe my time upon this earth is coming to an end."

"Don’t be ridiculous, Malenkaya, you’ve grown into a talented Slayer over the past year. I’m not even sure I could take you."

She gave a small smile at his compliment. "It is not the Slayer part of my identity that concerns me."

Spike questioned her with a look.

"I am a Romanov. The daughter of the Tsar. I don’t believe I will be allowed to live. But if you could dispatch the fiend that has defiled my family, you will have my eternal gratitude."

***

Spike played with the marshmallows floating in his hot chocolate and continued his narrative, "The humans tried their damnedest to kill Rasputin. Poisoned him, shot him, beat him, and threw him in the river. Wasn’t good enough. I saw to it that he was gone for good."

"How?" Buffy asked.

"A long and rather boring ritual. Dumped his body back in the river for the natives to fish out." He stopped again and cast a glance at the still open history book. "Anastasia was right about time being short. In 1918 she was imprisoned along with her family in Ekaterinburg. I carried on without her."

"Slaying?"

"Someone had to. As long as she was imprisoned, the balance of power could get mucked up." He traced her picture with his fingers. "She was executed along with her family that year. A new Slayer was called. Dru and I left Russia to rejoin Darla and Angelus."

Buffy ventured, "Some say she survived."

Spike shrugged, "Possible that she was revived, I guess. Slayer strength and all. I prefer to remember her as young and beautiful."

"You loved her?" The Slayer asked gently.

"I cared about the girl, yeah. But we weren’t lovers if that’s what you’re asking. She was practically a baby."

Buffy smiled at him, "I’ve never met a vampire like you."

"You ever stop to talk to one long enough?"

"No," she admitted with a smile.

"Good. Don’t get in your head that all vampires are noble or such nonsense. Gonna tell you the same thing I told her. Most of us will kill you where you stand, so you kill them first."

They sat in silence for a moment before Spike asserted, "Well, I’ve told you a story, now its your turn. Why the tears, Slayer?"

Buffy rose and carried her mug of hot chocolate into the living room. The vampire shadowed her.

Buffy curled up on one end of the couch and warned, "It’s a long story."

He sat at the other end and propped his feet up on the coffee table, "Six hours till sunrise. You’ve got time."

***

"Slayer."

Buffy heard his voice through the duskiness of her sleep. She felt his cold fingers massaging her scalp.

"Slayer. Its almost sunrise, I’ve got to go or I’ll be stuck here all day."

Buffy settled back into his chest and murmured, "Stay."

They had talked until the wee hours of the morning. Buffy told him everything about Riley. She surprised herself that she didn’t mourn over their breakup. She had told Spike, "It was like I was with him because I was supposed to be, because it was what was expected. But I held back so much of myself."

She broke down when she talked about her mother. "I’m so tired of being strong," she had sobbed. She remembered him promising, "You can lean on me, luv." She vaguely remembered the vampire holding her while she cried herself to sleep. When she tried to stifle her tears he instructed, "Don’t hold back, Slayer. Don’t hold anything back."

Now, she felt him relax beneath her and answer, "All right, Slayer. I’ll stay."

End Chapter Five