CHAPTER 8

Giles arrived at the Magic Box just after eleven the following morning. Spike smirked at the large bunch of flowers he’d brought “for the front counter”. Could the man be any more obvious? Probably only if he actually realised the flimsiness of the excuses he was making – to himself as well as to others. Meanwhile, Anya had changed her clothes twice already this morning. He wasn’t sure they knew what was happening between them, but it was certainly entertaining to watch.

After a quick – almost cursory – look at the sales records, Giles and Anya headed off for lunch, leaving Spike to mind the Magic Box. He’d made a few sales, nothing major, when the bell over the door tinkled and he looked up to see Dawn entering the shop. She stopped a few feet inside the door, clearly thunderstruck at seeing him.

“Spike?”

“’s right, Niblet.”

“How – how long have you been back?”

“It’s been a couple of weeks now, but I wasn’t sure how to let you know.” Wasn’t sure you’d care was more like it.

“Ever heard of the telephone?” she asked teasingly before the memory of Xander’s words returned.

Her withdrawal was complete, almost palpable. One minute she was there, the next minute she was cold and distant. “Why did you come back?” she asked him.

“It’s home,” he said simply, knowing it to be true.

She frowned. “You should have stayed away. Wherever you were. Xander told me what you did. What you tried to do to Buffy, I mean. I didn’t believe it at first.” She paused and continued, “She’s been acting weird lately. Are you seeing her again? Because that would be –”

He cut her off abruptly. “No and no. I’m not seeing her again, and I won’t try to. You’re not to worry, Dawn. I won’t be doing anything like that again, and big sis won’t be hanging round with the likes of me again. If you don’t want me here when you are, I’ll have a word with Anya. I’ll stay away from you too.”

She made an instinctive gesture towards him. “Buffy told me a little of what happened between you. She’s never big on the detail, but I think I got the big picture. She said I shouldn’t judge you for it, that I didn’t know the whole story.” She paused, looking up at him with those big eyes, then burst out, “You could have told me, Spike. I wish you’d trusted me.”

Spike rubbed his head. “It was complicated, love. Lots of things going on. Besides, Slayer / Vampire? It was never going to work out. No sense your worrying about something that was only ever going to get messy.”

“You should still have told me,” she replied.

Spike looked away, abashed. Knowing she was right, just as he’d known it at the time. “You’re right, Bit. We shouldn’t have kept it from you. I’m sorry.”

She frowned. That wasn’t going to cut it this time. “I don’t get it, Spike. I don’t get how you could do it, I don’t get why Buffy doesn’t blame you, and I don’t get why you came back. I trusted you - *Buffy* trusted you – and now I can never trust you again.”

She turned and stalked to the far corner of the shop, where she picked up a duster and began to clean the shelves in frosty silence.

***

“- he even had the Council convinced that the Duke of York was a vampire!”

“That’s just ridiculous,” replied Anya as she and Giles entered the Magic Box. “The last member of the Royal Family to be vamped was Edward VI.”

Giles did a double-take. “You mean King Edward –”

“Oh yes,” replied Anya. “It was hushed up of course; they called it consumption and made out that he had been weak all his life, but in fact it was a fondness for late-night visits to seedy brothels that became his downfall.”

Spike looked pointedly at the clock. “Service at lunch was slow, I gather.”

Giles looked startled as he noted the time and reacted to Dawn’s silent presence. Apparently Spike’s return to Sunnydale hadn’t been greeted with an excess of youthful joy. “I didn’t realise it was so late. I’d best be off; I’m taking Willow and the Scoobies out for dinner.” He had the grace to look uncomfortable at Spike’s exclusion from the meeting, even though none of them officially knew of his return.

Spike shrugged as though it didn’t matter. He’d not have expected an invitation anyway, and he could  use the time to do some more research on the Grshnit situation. Giles had promised to use the Watchers Council facilities to order any extra books he could trace. Apparently there was a thriving Inter-Library-Loan network for Occult and Magical Books, although the rarer tomes were generally copied before they were loaned. It seemed that the demons the books described and protected against were rather more scary than the enforcers of copyright, even such as it was in the world of the supernatural. Given the number Willow had pulled in the Magic Box, Spike could understand why they felt the need to duplicate them. Anya had saved the books she’d emptied, more as a macabre souvenir than out of any hope of restoring them, and he realised how much knowledge could have been lost through the Witch’s one, desperate action.

“I’d best be off too,” said Anya after Giles had left. “I need to get ready for dinner this evening. I’ll be back by six for closing.” She turned an admonishing eye on Dawn. “You dust those shelves well, missy. And mind you do as Spike tells you.”

***

He had no new information for Buffy, but the habit of writing notes was hard to break.

SLAYER – HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR NIGHT OFF. YOU NEED TO WORK ON CONTROL AND PRECISION. GET YOUR WATCHER TO TRAIN WITH YOU. WATCH YOUR TIMING AND MAKE SURE YOU WORK ON YOUR AIM.

***

He cornered Anya the next morning when she arrived at the Magic Box. She was humming as she sorted the morning’s mail; it was most unlike her to not be depressed by the sight of the electricity bill.

He cocked an eyebrow at her until she looked up in mock anger.

“Stop that, Spike. Your staring makes it hard for me to concentrate. It’s most distracting. Go stare at the merchandise instead.”

He smiled. “Got something you want to tell me, love?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Giles, making with the big goo-goo eyes.”

“We are not. There are no eyes.”

He shook his head. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Well go be fooled,” she snapped. “Nothing is going on, and that’s all there is to it.”

She was worrying him now. She seemed so definite.

“Care to talk about it pet?”

“No.” She paused, then rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

She sat at the research table and motioned to the other bench. “It’s complicated, Spike. I have these feelings for Giles. Every time I see him, they grow stronger. I can’t decide whether I want to rip his clothes off and have wild monkey sex on the counter, or go rent a schmoopy movie and feed him strawberries and peeled grapes. And maybe oysters and powdered rhinoceros horn, although that is not as powerful an aphrodisiac as the powdered freeze-dried gizzards of a Makula demon.” She sighed.

“I think he has feelings for me too. Giles I mean, not the freeze-dried demon. But he hasn’t said or done anything, and there’s still the whole demons-and-humans-don’t-mix thing to consider. Look how that worked out for you and Buffy.”

Spike patted her shoulder. “The problems between me and Buffy had nothing to do with the demon/human thing, love. Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “You saw how messed up she was. She couldn’t see me as anything except an evil, disgusting thing that she used to get her rocks off now and again. She didn’t respect me, she couldn’t trust me, and she was afraid her friends would hate her if they ever found out. And I never believed she would really be with me. Not exactly a recipe for mental health now, is it.”

“Is that why you got the soul?” Anya asked, interested.

Spike froze. “What do you mean?”

“Your soul,” she repeated slowly, as though he were deaf or – more likely - stupid. “Did you get it to show her you weren’t evil? Because I could have told her that months before.”

He appreciated the vote of confidence. “Guess I should have realised you’d know about that. I haven’t told anyone, because it seems silly now. I got it so Buffy could finally trust me; so she could have what she deserved; a lover with a soul. Only now I’ve got it, I’m still the same bloke I always was. No change, as far as I can see. I even wanted to bite someone the other day; that git who tried to return the mandrake roots he’d stored six to a jar. Guess it’s a bit of a dud, so let’s just keep it between us, okay. No-one else knows about it, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

She nodded. “If that’s what you want. But there’s nothing wrong with your soul, you know. It’s working just fine. Maybe you should talk to Giles about it.”

“Which brings us neatly back to the topic at hand,” he pointed out. “Look, Anya. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I’d be sorry to see you pass up a chance to be happy.”

Anya considered him for a moment, then straightened with a conspiratorial grin. “Can you mind the shop for the rest of the day? I have to go buy something casual yet provocative.”

***

After lunching with Willow, Giles arrived at the Magic Box around three. He covered his disappointment at not seeing Anya well, Spike thought.

“Seeing as you’re here anyway, d’you mind if I have a word?” asked Spike.

“Of course,” replied Giles. “Have you learned something new about the situation with the Grshnit demons?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, although I do need you to order me these books for me.” He fumbled with the list of books, handing it to Giles. This is more – personal.”

The Watcher looked uncomfortable. “Personal? I didn’t realise that Buffy knew you were back.”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Rupert. It’s nothing like that.” He shuffled uncomfortably. “See, when I left Sunnydale, I did something. Well, it was done to me. I went looking –”

“Is this about your soul, Spike?” Giles interrupted.

“Bloody Hell!” Spike rolled his eyes. “Is there anyone that doesn’t know about this sodding soul? First Anya, now you. Why don’t I just get a neon sign made? Got the soul, now wear the bloody badge.”

Giles grinned at the vampire’s reaction. “Actually, it was the coven. They were a little nervous about your watching over Willow, even when I vouched for you. Apparently they did some investigating on their own. For what it’s worth, it seems your soul is a little more –er – permanent than Angel’s.”

“You mean I can – Yeah. Knew that one already. No curse, just the package.” At the Watcher’s somewhat startled look, he clarified. “Not that I’ve tried it out, or anything. Different source, that’s all. Besides, I earned it. Demon in Africa, trials, yada yada yada.”

Giles shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes well, let’s confine ourselves to the topic at hand. Although if you would be interested in writing an account of your experiences that would be a very valuable record. I believe you wanted to ask me something.”

Now it was Spike’s turn to look uncomfortable. “About this soul. I’m not sure that it’s working properly. When Angelus got his, he turned into the Poof. Brood, sulk, suck on a rat, brood some more. Not that I’m complaining, mind, but shouldn’t something like that have happened to me? Instead, I’m – well, I’m still me. I’m not out there saving the world, or helping little old ladies across the road; I don’t give to charity, I couldn’t give a toss about all the puppies, and if it hadn’t been for this sodding chip I swear I’d have bitten one of the customers here the other week. Or punched him, at the least. Stupid bloody git.”

Giles chose his words carefully. “Spike, I don’t have a lot of experience in the souling of vampires. You are precisely the second, as far as I can tell, and your situation is quite different from Angel’s. For starters, if I understand you correctly, you actually went to this demon to get the soul; you sought it out, where Angel’s was imposed upon him.

“You may not have realised it, Spike, but getting a soul wouldn’t be the shock to you that it was for Angelus. Thanks to the chip, you’d stopped feeding from people, and you had aligned yourself with – well, for want of a better term - the side of right. Yours was a special – I could say unique – set of circumstances.” He removed his glasses and polished them carefully, still coming to terms with the situation himself. “Remember the trouble you had when you first got the chip? By the time you earned your soul, you’d already acclimatised, so to speak. You’d fought those battles, already found a place for yourself. Whatever Angel might want us to believe, the soul doesn’t change who you are, it changes what you are.”

Spike nodded. “But then why do I still have these urges? I thought the soul would stop that.”

“Do you want to bite me?” asked Giles. “Or Anya? Or Dawn? Or Willow?”

“Of course not,” replied Spike, clearly revolted. “But I haven’t wanted that for a long time.”

“How about the cashier at the supermarket? Or those people out there?” he continued, gesturing to the street outside.

“No,” Spike replied slowly. “Well, just the annoying ones like that tosser in the red hat,” he added with a rueful grin.

“So do we all, Spike,” Giles replied. At the vampire’s astonished look, he clarified, “Oh, we don’t generally want to suck their blood, although if I was going to then the –er- tosser would seem an excellent choice. But the urge to do violence is one that we all have to conquer at times. You’ve associated biting with violence – so, just as at times I want to smack some sense into the Watchers Council, you want to bite people who annoy you. As children, we learn that we can’t just hit other children when they take our toys. You learned those lessons once, but then spent over a hundred years as a vampire, taking what you wanted whenever you wanted it. The chip has stopped you from doing those things for the last three years, but now you have an opportunity to learn to control those impulses by yourself.”

Spike nodded slowly. “I think I get it now,” he said. “Last year, when I thought the chip didn’t work, I went straight out and tried to bite someone. Had to talk myself into it, but I would’ve done it. These days, I wouldn’t do that. Not in cold blood, anyway.”

Anya’s return signalled the end of the conversation. She hurried into the shop with shopping bags flying, blushing when she noticed Giles.

“Had a good day, pet?” asked Spike. “Left anything in the shops for the rest of us?”

“Oh yes,” replied Anya earnestly before she realised he was teasing.

“So, you going to show us what you bought,” he continued, determined to get some amusement out of the situation, particularly given the number of bags from the Sunnydale Mall’s specialty lingerie shop. Is this one of those impulses I should be learning to control? he wondered. I bloody hope not.

“No,” she replied firmly, settling herself across the table from Giles, both of them avoiding eye contact. Spike rolled his eyes. Time to give them a helping hand.

“Listen pet, I can’t make it tonight after all. Forgot I’d promised Clem I’d be round.”

“Tonight?” Anya looked puzzled.

Spike winked at Anya. “You know,” he replied in a meaningful voice. “The video you wanted to watch?”

It took a moment to sink in. “Oh, yes. The video. We were going to watch a video together tonight. But you have to do something with your friend. So I have no plans.” She stopped, clearly feeling something more was needed. “Drat.”

After a suitable hesitation, Spike turned to Giles. “I feel bad standing her up like this. You free to keep Anya company tonight?”

“Well – yes, of course,” replied Giles “What were you going to watch?”

“Batman Forever,” replied Anya, just as Spike replied, “Notting Hill.”

Anya gave in first. “Oh that’s right. I wanted to watch George Clooney but Spike convinced me that I wanted to see Notting Hill. It’s a movie about a sexy English shopkeeper, you know,” she added.

“I believe I have heard of it,” said Giles. “Shall I see you around six, then?”

***

He had another gift to go with her admittedly melodramatic note that night. A miniature pendant, bearing a tiny moth encased in amber, caught forever in the moment. Odds were, she would go out like that; suddenly, in her prime, never fading or flickering until the last. He’d be there to save her, though, next time.

SLAYER – NEVER FORGET THAT DEATH IS AS CLOSE AS LIFE.

YOU’RE GETTING CARELESS, AND CARELESSNESS KILLS.

***

Giles jumped at the knock on his door. After placing an urgent order for Spike’s books, he’d hurried back to his hotel to shower and change, collecting food and drink on the way.

It was Anya at the door, of course. She was wearing soft blue jeans and a scoop-necked moss green sweater that clung like a second skin. Not that he noticed. Around her wrist was a bracelet of old gold coins. She was carrying the video.

“Anya, come in,” he invited, gesturing to the sofa. “What can I get you to drink?” He opened the fridge, revealing bottles of designer beer, coke and orange juice sitting beside chilling champagne and a rather astonishing array of canapés. “That champagne would be lovely,” she said, settling back against the corner of the couch. He opened the champagne and brought two glasses to the table, setting out a plate of food before he slid the video into the VCR and settled into the other corner of the couch.

Giles enjoyed the film, but was distracted by Anya, who was curled up on her side of the couch, her bare feet resting gently against his thigh. He gently massaged first one foot then the other, as the film drew to an end. Somehow, it never worked out for him the way it worked out for Hugh Grant in his movies (or in real life for that matter, although that was hardly something to regret). He hardly dared hope that there might still be another chance for him.

Anya shifted slightly as the final credits rolled. He looked over to where she was curled against the arm of the chair, eyes half-closed. She was the picture of relaxation, and in that moment he realised he didn’t care about unresolved Xander issues, demonhood or vengeance. He was just happy to be here, now, with this wonderful, unpredictable woman.

Before he could do anything, Anya opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know how these things happen in the mortal realm,” she burst out. “I don’t have a lot of experience – well I have precisely one experience of human courtship rituals, actually. And I know that I’m rushing things but you’re physically so much older than I am and I wouldn’t want to leave it too late and have to order expensive pharmaceuticals from online stores in order to have a happy and varied sex life.” She frowned. Maybe that wasn’t the most romantic thing she could have said there. “Giles – Rupert – I like you a lot and I think you like me and when two otherwise single people like each other that way (You are single, aren’t you?) then it is not inappropriate or immoral for them to engage in physical intimacy as a precursor to an ongoing relationship. Which I would like very much.”

She broke off, looking at him unsurely. He breathed deeply and ran one hand through his hair, before returning it to hold – or, possibly, to caress – her ankle.

“Anya, I – I’m flattered, obviously by what you have said. And I can’t say I haven’t felt something; I would very much like to make love with you.” He smiled a little shakily, clearly under the influence of strong emotions. “There hasn’t been anyone special in my life for some time now, however I think I can safely assure you that there would not be any need for –ah– performance-enhancing drugs.” He frowned. “I’m not *that* much older than you are, you know.”

He paused, stroking her leg absently, looking directly at her now, clearly not done.

“I just need to know that you’re sure. Once we take this step, we can’t go back from it. I wouldn’t want to be part of something you’ll regret later.”

Anya looked at him, her eyes shining the way he had imagined them shining at Xander on their wedding day. (He’d not admitted even to himself how he had envied the younger man, making up excuses that kept him in England for their big day. Sending the flowers for the hall had been an overly extravagant gesture that was more an attempt to convince himself he was happy for them than the generous, thoughtful act it had appeared.)

“I’m sure,” she said simply, and that was enough, and they were clinging to one another with hands and lips. It was even better than the kisses he had relived in memory so often since leaving Sunnydale.