Title: A Renewed Nostalgia for Nail Polish
Author: Night Nymph
Rating: PG 13 for now
Disclaimers: I own nothing here. Hopefully Joss
won’t mind me playing a bit.
Spoilers: Everything up to “
Distribution: You want this? Really? Well go
ahead and take it, just let me know where it’s going.
Dedication: This one is for mr.
monkeybottoms. Her brilliant stories inspired me to
try my hand at comedy. I apologize in advance for what I’ll likely do with that
inspiration.
Summary: There are many, well planned and
inspiring stories about what happens to Spike after his sacrifice at the end of
“
Chapter 1: The Horrors of Yogurt and Virgins
As Spike
returned to his senses he noticed two things: one, that he was in the kitchen
instead of in his bed in the suites of Wolfram and Hart, and two, that he had a
vile, lumpy substance in his mouth. “Uck,” he
exclaimed, spitting the contents onto the table. He wiped his mouth with his
hand, dropping the spoon it held in the process. The utensil landed on the
kitchen table with a tinny clank and splattered more of the loathsome substance
on the highly lacquered surface. “Bloody hell!” he swore.
To add
insult to injury, Angel smirked at him from near the microwave where he was
waiting for his blood to heat. “You’re cleaning that up,” he said, looking like
he was trying very hard not to laugh and thereby ruin his appearance of moral
superiority.
Spike
wanted to smack him. Instead, eyeing the container of fat free yogurt he still
held in his right hand, he complained “How could anyone want to eat this
stuff?”
“Don’t ask
me. You’re the one eating it,” Angel replied as he removed his heated mug.
The smell
of warm blood was tantalizing, but the lingering taste of yogurt just made
Spike’s stomach do flip flops. “It wasn’t bloody me. I don’t even remember
coming down here.” Why the hell did Buffy
have to like yogurt of all things? Spike thought in disgust.
“Aww what’s the matter, Spikey?
Not coming to terms with your feminine side?”
Spike let
out a soft growl of frustration. He opened
his mouth, wanting to say something so badly. You’re just jealous because I’m Buffy’s true soul mate now. Go on
mate, say it. Wipe that smirk right off his face. Crush his spirit, come on.
Ah, hell. He sniffed instead and forced a smile. “It’s fine. It’s just
temporary.
“I’m sure
you can,” Angel said, throwing a dish rag in his direction and indicating the
splattered yogurt with a movement of his hand. He looked smug, like he knew
some colossal joke Spike didn’t. It had been happening a lot recently. Spike
hated that.
Angel
finished off his blood and rinsed his mug before putting it in the sink. The
infuriating smile still on his face, he paused in the doorway on his way out.
“By the way, I love the bathrobe.”
Spike
looked down in horror at the fluffy pink robe that barely covered him mid
thigh, further balking at the embroidered flower he discovered on the right
breast. He couldn’t imagine anything much worse, unless… He so hoped that
wasn’t a nightgown he felt under the robe.
Angel was still
chuckling as he turned. Spike was sure he never saw the yogurt container coming
as he watched it hit his grandsire on the side of his head with a satisfying
splat. At least he still had good aim.
As a
horrified Angel rushed towards the washroom to get the yogurt out of his hair,
Spike thought with amusement, If the bad
guys ever learned to concentrate on messing up his poofy
hair, this town might actually be theirs. Looking again at himself and
shaking his head, he rose from the table. He would’ve liked to stay around and
gloat, but his present attire didn’t lend itself to the moment. Best to sneak
back to his room and change before someone else saw him like this. He sighed as
he skulked down the hallway, wondering how it had all come to this.
Two months earlier
Lilah
hated this room. White, white, and more white not only equaled boring, somehow,
to her, it equaled creepy as well. It made her think of purity and virgins, and
well, what was more disturbing than virgins? They weren’t a major component in
so many evil spells for nothing now, were they? Nope, not many things creepier than that, she reasoned. Except
maybe a nun, her brain supplied, unhelpfully reminding her of her days in
parochial school. Shuddering, she sighed and started tapping her pen against
her cheek. What was taking so long? She’d set up all the goody-goodies at
Wolfram and Hart, made sure Angel was the boss, then given him the necklace
meant for a champion. Hint, hint. So now he would use it, save the day, but
lose his soul in the “cleansing” process, because hey, saving the world had to
cost something, right? Then he would materialize back here as Angelus, and
voila, law firm headed by an evil vampire with untold resources at his fangtips. And if he got out of line too much, hell, they
could find that pesky soul somewhere, or at least that was all he had to
believe anyway. What? She was supposed to tell the truth? She was evil after
all.
Energy
started humming about the room, making the hairs on the back of her neck and
arms stand at attention and the building shake ever so slightly. About time, she thought as she lowered
the hand with her pen to the clipboard she held, ready to document the moment
for the bosses. Despite the build-up of energy, there was little fanfare that
followed: just a flash of light and a naked body falling onto the floor, the
figure landing curled-up and facing away from her.
Affecting
boredom, Lilah made note of the time and the
condition of the arrival as he stirred. Body intact – check. Arms and legs functional
- check. Wait a minute. She looked again aas the figure groaned and slowly sat
up. She noted the lean, muscular physique which in itself wouldn’t be a problem
were it not for the more than six inches difference in height than she expected
and the bleached blond hair.
He, and yes
it was definitely a he, turned to face her, his intense blue eyes registering
confusion. Then he realized he was naked.
“Bloody
hell!” he swore.
Lilah
couldn’t have agreed more.
*********
Angel
sighed as the building shook. Yes, things had been going smoothly for all of
what, a day since he’d returned from Sunnydale? He’d
been busy behind the scenes, gathering resources quietly just in case Buffy
needed his second front. And it had been going well. There had been no signs of
Armageddon until now when the building was shaking, subtly, but he could feel
it nonetheless. Maybe this was it after all. Maybe Evil was finally going to
win. He pulled back the curtains, bracing himself for the sight of a coming
disaster.
Angel looked
down on the street below, his enhanced eyesight allowing him to see a car
upside down, several more a tangled wreck, ambulances and fire trucks
everywhere, and people milling about in confusion. Nope, nothing unusual there.
They really should put up a turn lane at
that intersection, he thought. And it didn’t explain the building shaking.
He guessed he better get the gang together and figure out what was coming.
*********
Okay, Spike thought as he looked around
the room, didn’t think I’d end up anywhere
white. I don’t see any angels flitting about with harps though. His gaze
stopped on the woman with the clip board staring at him, the confusion that
crossed her face likely matching his own. The fleeting thought crossed his mind
that maybe someone made a mistake. That
would be classic: me getting into heaven on a technicality. He smiled,
putting some charm behind it.
The woman
sighed. “Well, I can’t imagine the bosses will be too happy about this.”
She didn’t
sound like an angel. In fact if he was any judge of character, she seemed a
little on the evil side, but not your average run of the mill evil: more of a
refined type. In a previous life that seemed forever ago, he might have made a
woman like this his queen. Now though, Spike knew better. He had the distinct
feeling this woman could be the end of him if he didn’t play his cards right.
He also noticed something else about her; she was dead. Okay, now he was
starting to get worried.
Circling
him slowly in her expensive pumps and fitted suit, she looked him over like he
was a scientific specimen. “Hmm, not bad, but who the hell are you?”
He didn’t
move. If she wanted to get a good look at his wrinklies
and such, fine with him. He was right proud of his physique. “Who wants to
know?” he snarked, before he mentally groaned. He
probably shouldn’t piss off the dead lady.
She raised
her eyebrows at him. “That you don’t
need to know right now. In fact, let’s just say it’s better that you don’t
know. Now who are you and why are you here instead of who we were expecting?”
“Well, who
were you expecting? Maybe that’ll help.”
She sighed
again, and plastered on a smile that seemed to say “if you don’t answer my
questions soon, I’ll rip your friggin head off.”
Spike was
actually impressed, but it wasn’t in his nature to just give in. “Aw come on,
just give me that one.”
“Fine. If
it will hurry this along, I’ll give you this one. Angelus. We were expecting
Angelus.”
Angelus, not Angel. It was then that Spike realized
something. He was different. William was gone. They’d taken his soul. His demon
face came forth as he surged to his feet and closed the gap between them. In
the next second he had her by the throat. “What did you wankers
do to me? Where’s my soul?”
She looked
down at his hand clasping her throat as if it were a minor inconvenience.
“Please be careful. That’s not exactly the sturdiest part of my body right now,
and I’m already dead, so threatening to kill me won’t do you much good.”
“But I’ll
enjoy tearing you apart,” he said.
“Then you can
enjoy eternity starving in this empty room.”
“Fine.” He
let her go in momentary defeat. “What do you want?”
The corners
of her mouth turned up perfunctorily, the smile all business. “Let’s start with
who you are.”
“I’m Spike,
or at least what’s left of me.”
“Can’t
exactly blame me for that. I mean, yes, the amulet did use up your soul to
destroy the nasty vamps, but it was your choice to wear it, wasn’t it? No one
forced you.”
“No,” he
admitted.
“Okay then.
It was your fault. Believe me. I’m not happy about this either. I was expecting
Angelus. How the hell did you get a soul anyway? No one warned us about this.”
He lifted
his head and put on a cocky expression. “I won it in a game of poker.”
She stared
at him, and Spike could tell that she was trying hard to suppress amusement.
“And I thought Angelus was funny,” she remarked, the only acknowledgment she
would give him. She crossed her arms, cradling the clipboard against her chest.
“Unfortunately the bosses don’t have a sense of humor. Start talking or I leave
you here.”
“Fine. I
went to
“You wanted
your soul?” Her usually reserved tone actually held surprise.
“That’s
what I just told you, isn’t it?”
She seemed
to blanch a little, if that was even possible. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” he
asked, trying to quash the alarm rising in him.
“We were
expecting someone who wouldn’t want their soul…”
His
forehead furrowed as he tried to figure out why that was important. It took a
moment, but finally catching on, he
said, “Because then you could use returning it as leverage, am I right?”
“Because
without said leverage, both our asses could be toast, and I mean that
literally.” Her eyes showed that she had no doubt in that assessment.
Spike didn’t
like the sound of that. He never had been fond of toast.
Chapter 2: The Horrors
of Impasse and Bus Travel
Spike stared at the woman in the fitted suit dress, and she
stared back. Considering the look of “oh crap” on her face, he was starting to
have serious doubts about getting out of this in one piece. Another moment
passed uneventfully.
Finally, Spike voiced the first idea that came to him.
“Well, we can always keep it to ourselves, pet. Who’d believe a vampire would
want a soul anyway?” Okay, even he didn’t believe that would work. He never had
claimed that his first ideas were good ones.
“You can call me Lilah. And that
might have been a passable plan, but they already know.”
Spike’s brow furrowed. “They weren’t aware I had a soul, so
how can they know I wanted one?”
“Because you belong to them now. The Senior Partners know
everything about those they own. Believe me, I know.”
“Had a feeling you weren’t quite on Team Good,” Spike said.
She laughed lightly. “No, not remotely. And what team are
you on, Spike?”
He shrugged. “Not much of a team player. And now… well
without the soul, I suppose ’m evil again, but I’d rather help old ladies
across the street for all eternity than lift a sodden finger for the ones who
made me this way again.”
“Even if they made it worth your while?”
Shaking his head, he leveled a determined expression on her.
“They could never give me enough. Not in my nature to be in a gilded cage, Lilah.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “And you got that soul then
why? I can’t think of anything more like a cage for a vampire than that.”
Spike smirked. “Different, love. A self-imposed restraint.
And only because there was someone worth being restrained for.”
“Well, I don’t see that someone now.” She smiled almost
seductively. “Just think of all that warm blood just waiting to be tasted. A
few well-chosen victims here and there. The bosses wouldn’t mind if you started
out slowly.”
“Hmm, it always starts out that way, doesn’t it? But before
you know it, you’re bent over the desk and expected to beg for a buggering.” He
watched her expression change, confirming that his assessment of the situation
had been correct. Smirk growing, he started to lace his hands behind his head
in triumph, but then thought better of it. He titled his head and sneered instead.
“Speaking of which, am I gonna get some clothes
anytime soon or what?”
Lilah smirked back at him, her previous
ire hidden. “Hmm seems a shame, but…” She reached into her suit jacket and
retrieved a small phone and pressed a button on it. “Could we please have some
clothes up here?” She snapped it shut and returned it to her pocket. “They’ll
be here shortly.”
“Fine then.” He looked at her, trying to gage her mood now.
He wasn’t able to, but that didn’t change his mind. “I’m not gonna do what they want, you know, whatever it is. You can
tell them to put me back for all I care.”
“One thing you’ll learn about the Senior Partners, Spike, is
that they don’t put anything back once they’ve taken it. At least not until
they’re finished with it.”
Spike’s eyes flashed with anger that he quickly pushed down.
Raging at the woman wouldn’t do him any good. His instincts told him that he
needed to get on her good side. He grinned evilly instead. “Well, guess I’ll
have to be the cute, little puppy that grows into a hundred pound dog that eats
the house and bites you in the arse.”
“Something they didn’t bargain for?” Lilah
asked with amusement.
Smirk still in place, he moved closer to speak in her ear.
“Something they’ll be begging to give back,” he clarified. He backed up,
watching her expression turn to one of amused intrigue, and he smiled. Perhaps
he might have an ally after all.
*********
Fred smiled nervously, her lab coat engulfing her. Gunn
crossed his arms, feigning indifference. Wesley sat quietly, his expression
contemplative and concerned. Each one was different, and each one was an
important part of his team. They all shared one thing in common at the moment,
however; they were looking at him, expecting an answer. Angel wished he had one
to give them.
Lorne popped his head in the door, and Angel silently
thanked him for the reprieve.
“Hey Angelcakes, do you need me
for this meeting? I’m not too helpful on apocalypse fact-finding type
ventures.”
Angel couldn’t help but smile a bit. Lorne’s aqua suit was
loud even for his wardrobe. The lemon yellow shirt just seemed like overkill.
“Got a meeting with a big wig you’d rather not cancel?” he guessed.
“Aw shucks, you got me,” Lorne replied. “In my defense,
though, I really am not that good with apocalypses. So…” His head suddenly
turned. “Hmm, well what have we got coming here? Hey aren’t you still dead?”
“Still dead,” Lilah replied. “Now
why don’t you go on ahead to that meeting? I wouldn’t want to keep you.” She
pushed past him into the meeting room and faced the assembled group.
“Lilah,” Wesley said with an
incline of his head and a face awash with barely suppressed emotions. Angel
felt his heart ache for him.
“Wesley,” Lilah replied. “More
business to attend to,” she added, explaining her presence nonchalantly. She
looked back to the door as if expecting someone else to be there.
Lorne remained in the doorway, though, titling his head
curiously at something in the hall. “Gotta say there,
sweet cheeks, even you make that stuffy outfit look good.”
“You gonna let me by, or do I have
to move you myself?” someone replied testily. “Bad enough I have to go in there
at all, never mind get up close and personal with an Abercrombie and Finch
catalogue on acid to do it.”
Angel knew that voice. And he knew that attitude. If this
was the impending disaster, he’d rather have something, no, anything else.
“Well, someone sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed
this morning,” Lorne remarked.
“You don’t know the half of it, you git,”
Spike replied, growling softly as he pushed by Lorne who, despite Spike’s
threat, hadn’t budged. The vampire gave the demon a subtle shove with his
shoulder as he entered the room.
“We have a problem,” Lilah
announced.
Angel didn’t think he’d ever heard such a statement of the
obvious.
*********
Something didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t just that they
were in a worn-down motel room somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It was a
nagging feeling that something important was happening somewhere: somewhere not
here and somewhere that she should be. Buffy looked over at Dawn and smoothed
some silken hair away from her sister’s face. The feeling left as quickly as it
had come, and she decided it must be just everything finally hitting home.
The post avoiding-the-apocalypse euphoria had been very
short-lived this time compared to other times, because this victory had cost so
much more. Well, she supposed that for those who’d been left, their defeat of
Glory hadn’t been all that happy either. As she brushed another tear from her
cheek, she wondered if they had cried, too. She certainly didn’t wish this
sadness on them and could no longer blame her friends for bringing her back,
for trying to end the hurt.
And what about him? Had he cried when she died? He said he
had in that church the day he told her about his soul. And when she’d come
back, he’d told her that he relived that night every night until she’d
returned, dreaming of how he might have saved her. If she hadn’t been so numb
then, she might have tried to comfort him. She might have been moved by his
confession: one that even coming from a soulless being, had been so filled with
emotion. Few others except Angel could make her cry with just his words. The
last time had only been a few days ago.
Buffy was suddenly very tired. Carefully lifting the covers,
she stretched out on the bed behind Dawn, not even bothering to remove the last
few pieces of clothing she had on. She molded herself lightly into her sister’s
back, taking comfort in the fact that Dawn was still alive. As she waited for
sleep to come and her dreams to start, Buffy wondered how she would save Spike
tonight.
*********
They all stared at vampire in front of them, trying to
assess this new development. Fred looked puzzled. Gunn looked disappointed.
Wesley looked like he thought he should recognize the visitor. Lilah looked slightly sheepish. And Spike looked indignant.
Angel thought he felt a big, fat headache coming on.
“You all have a
problem?” Spike asked, his arms gesturing emphatically as he started to pace.
“What about me? I do the right bloody thing for once. Sacrifice myself for the
bloody sake of humanity. Burn up from the inside no less, and what happens? I
wake up in a white room with Ms. Corporate Evil, here, completely starkers…” Glancing down at the conservative grey slacks
and charcoal button-down shirt he wore, he made a disgusted face. “Not that
this is much better, mind you.” He looked back up and continued his tirade.
“Then I find out some evil powers own
me, and to top it all off, they took my bleeding soul!”
His face most closely resembling a look of “duh”, Gunn
asked, “Um, vampire right? Isn’t ‘no soul’ generally a requirement for you
guys?”
Spike gave him an annoyed look. “I had one okay? Not for as
long as Brood Boy over there, mind you, but I won mine fair and square.”
“You won your soul?” Fred asked. ”How?”
“Don’t ask,” Lilah advised.
“Oh, what’s the matter?” he asked Lilah,
his voice a purr. “Don’t like to hear that your new evil toy got a soul on
purpose?”
“Well, actually I though we covered this,” Lilah said reasonably. “I think the answer was a definitive
‘no.’” She then looked somewhat apologetically at Angel. “I’m not sure what
happened. He was actually rather reasonable a moment ago.”
Angel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Spike tends to be
unpredictable like that. Sometimes something just sets him off.”
Spike whirled on him. “Sets me off? Yeah, like Angelus was a
picture of sanity. Besides this is your fault.” He pointed at him. “You
should’ve warned Buffy better that the amulet was evil. What if she’d used it
instead?” His tirade abruptly halted as his expression suddenly turned to
concern. He almost deflated before their eyes. “Oh God, Buffy. She made it out,
right?” He turned panicked eyes on Angel. “She’s okay, right?”
Angel’s mouth fell open. “You don’t know?”
“I was burned to a crisp, you git.
I didn’t see what happened after that.”
Angel felt his chest tighten. “I don’t know either, Spike.
When we felt the building shake, I was afraid for a moment Buffy had failed to
stop the apocolypse.”
“We didn’t fail,” Spike said indignantly, his concern
replaced just as quickly by momentary ire. “The Slayer was bloody brilliant,
Red did some major mojo, I used the amulet, and we
pounded them.”
“Then why would you think Buffy didn’t make it?” He watched
Spike’s jaw twitch and his expression shift as if he were trying to decide what
to say, how much to reveal. “Tell me the truth, Spike.”
Sighing, he closed his eyes. “She wouldn’t bloody leave at
first.” He clenched his teeth for a moment then looked at his hand. “The world
was falling in around us, but she stayed. Held my hand. They burst into flames,
but still she didn’t let go. But I couldn’t let her die. Not again. My turn
this time.” He shook his head as if clearing it, and looked at Angel as he
warred with his emotions. “So I yelled at her a little, made her get her ass in
gear. But it felt like a pretty big implosion, and I burned up soon after, so I
don’t know if she made it.”
“Oh it was a pretty big implosion,” Lilah
remarked with a smile. “Took the whole sorry town of
“How do you know that if you didn’t even know it was me who
was gonna show up instead of Angel?” Spike asked
sarcastically.
Something about that statement nagged at Angel. Was Spike
saying that the bosses at Wolfram and Hart meant for him to end up
soulless? He made a mental note to have a little chat with Lilah in a bit. Noting how she was purposely avoiding
looking in his direction, he had a pretty good idea what the answer was going
to be.
“Remember that phone call I got on the way here?” Lilah answered Spike.
The vampire glared at her. “But you let me go on like that
anyway.”
Lilah shrugged. “I have to amuse myself
somehow, and I must admit that for a vampire, you are pretty amusing.”
Spike looked about ready to lunge for Lilah,
and despite how at the moment Angel might actually enjoy seeing that occur, he
decided he better intervene. “Spike, save it.”
Spike growled a little and looked defiant, but he stayed
put.
“Gee, major issues with that one,” Lorne remarked. After
looking at his watch, he turned his eyes back to the group. ”But my meeting
awaits, so if someone would fill me in…”
Spike turned a withering glare on the green demon.
Lorne remained unaffected as he looked back. “Oh, and in her
own way, she did mean it, you know?”
“She meant what?” Spike began testily before he abruptly
stopped and opened his mouth in shock. “How did you…”
Lorne smiled at him and put a finger to his temple. “I could
read it from over here, sweet cheeks. You were wearing it on your sleeve. Can’t
usually read vampires so well, but you’re one odd vamp.” Lorne shook his horned
head and swept down the hallway whistling.
“Who meant what?” Angel asked.
“I’d settle for knowing what the heck’s going on here,” Gunn
remarked.
Angel barely heard him, he was focused on Spike, watching
the smile that had come to his face after Lorne’s insight. Spike looked at him
now with a smirk even more annoying than usual. “You wouldn’t want to know,
mate, and I don’t feel like sharing. Maybe some other day.”
Fred cleared her throat. “So there’s no impending disaster,
then?”
As Angel glared straight at Spike so his meaning wouldn’t be
lost on the other vampire, he answered Fred. “Well that depends on your
definition of disaster.”
*********
“This is a disaster,” Buffy whined. She pouted at the map
spread across the table in front of them.
“Well, now, it’s not all that bad,” Giles said, his tone
reassuring. “If we go along this road, we should eventually make it back to the
main highway in a few hours or so.”
“A few hours?” Xander complained.
“Haven’t the people in
Stuffing a huge bit of pancake into her mouth, Dawn gave him
an amused look. “I believe this is an alternative route.”
“I’d classify it more as a path or maybe a trail,” Xander quipped. “I’ve seen construction roads less bumpy.”
“Well it started out nicely,” Dawn said. “Maybe we just took
a wrong turn.”
Buffy frowned at the map. “Only one wrong turn? How can one
wrong turn get us so very lost?”
“Well, it might help if the map was right side up,” Giles
advised, turning the map in the correct orientation.
“I think Faith and Robin got off easy,” Xander
remarked.
Buffy shuddered. “Not in my opinion. I hate hospitals.”
“Yeah, well, they’ll probably get a nice, fast car once the
potential’s parents pick them up and Principal Wood gets better. Then they’ll
travel around a bit before meeting us in
“At the rate we’re going they’ll beat us there,” Dawn said
around another mouthful of pancake.
The diner door swung open, the bell above it chiming
furiously as
“Mm hmm,” Dawn mumbled sarcastically.
Buffy kicked her under the table.
“Ow! Sister abuse.”
Buffy ignored her. “Oh good.
“Oh, for
“Um sure,”
Buffy smiled. “Oh, so that’s where we… Um Willow…”
“Fire!” Xander yelled as flames
started to eat their road map. He dumped his orange juice on the spreading flames.
“Oh wait! Ohh, you should have
beat them out,” Buffy complained. “Now look at our map. It not only has a huge
hole, it’s all sticky.”
“Sorry,”
“I guess we need another map,” Giles said with a sigh.
“There was a gas station about thirty miles back.”
“Bet that hospital’s not looking so bad now, huh?” Xander asked.
“Last one in the bus is a rotten egg,” Dawn announced as she
squirmed her way past Buffy and bounded out of the diner.
Buffy hit her forehead on the table, narrowly missing the
spilled orange juice. “This is a disaster,” she whined, sadly aware that no one
was left to hear her.
*********
Spike hated this. Angel was the last person he wanted to ask
for help, but unfortunately, he didn’t trust anyone else right now. Besides,
perhaps he could manage to get a few amusing digs in at the same time. Angel
would still feel obligated to help, that being his gig and all. Personally, he
didn’t know how Angel could put up with it. Being the hero sure wasn’t all it
was cracked up to be.
Even Angel, however, seemed to have his limits for patience.
“Okay, Spike, enough with the pacing. What do you want, and why did you insist
on kicking everyone else out and talking only with me of all people?”
“You think I like talking to you about this? I’d rather be
with Buffy, thank you very much, but I have this feeling that I’m not going
very far away from here. Who are these ‘Senior Partners’ anyway?”
“I’m not sure,” Angel answered. “I only know that they aren’t
the good guys.”
“Yeah, well neither am I anymore apparently,” Spike
muttered. He stopped mid-pace. “I can’t do this!” He didn’t even try to keep
the desperation out of his voice.
Angel rolled his eyes. “What’s the problem now?” he asked as
if he thought Spike was being overdramatic.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t have my soul anymore, you
Neanderthal. They want me to be Evil. How am I…” He closed his eyes and took a
loud breath. The words he uttered were softer than his deep breath would have
implied. “Do you know how long it’s been?”
“Since what Spike?”
Spike looked at him. “Since I killed someone. Killed a
human.”
Angel stared at him, his expression suddenly very serious.
“How long have you had your soul?”
“Almost a year,” Spike replied. “But it’s been much longer
than that.” He pointed to the back of his head. “The Slayer’s old boyfriend,
Mr. Meat and Potatoes, was part of a government operation. They put a chip in
my head. I couldn’t bite anyone. If I tried to hurt a human, I’d get a
paralyzing electric shock.”
“And this kept you from killing people?” Angel asked
skeptically. “You didn’t get some other vampire to do it?”
“Well, once, but that was Drusilla, and I sent her away, and
that was the only time, because Buffy wouldn’t have liked that. And before
that, well, what would have been the point? When I found out I could kill
demons, at least that I could do myself.” Spike shook his head. “And when I
found out it didn’t work on Buffy, it didn’t matter, because I didn’t want to
bite her anyway by then. And then I got the soul…”
“Well shouldn’t the chip still work?” Angel asked.
Spike looked down a moment. “Um, it’s gone.”
Angel sighed. “I should have known. You got it removed.”
Spike gave him a dirty look. “No. That was Buffy’s decision.
I was in no shape to make that particular choice at the time, but hell… How can
I restrain myself without it?”
Angel just stared at him. “Seems to me you should be happy
it’s gone.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Spike asked. “She believes in me, or at least she did
when I got the soul. Hell, even before that, because she said I fought my
nature to get it. If I kill someone now…” He turned and punched his fist into
the wall.
“She’ll blame herself for getting your chip out and having
faith in you,” Angel finished for him. He almost sounded sympathetic.
Spike looked at his now bleeding hand, his eyes locked on
the blood. “But that Little Ms. Evil isn’t gonna let
up on me, is she? Eventually I’m gonna cave in.” He
looked up again pleadingly at Angel, warring with himself with equal parts
needing his grandsire and wanting to pound him. “Angel, what am I going to do?”
Author’s notes: This chapter and the next are
dedicated to the gang from the Angel speculation thread at forums4fans. Our
lively debate on the symbolic meaning behind the occurrences in the final hellmouth scene in Buffy and its impact on Spike’s return
helped lead to the twisted story you see here.
Chapter 3: The Horrors of Waylaid
Plans and Lingerie
Spike
looked like he genuinely wanted help, but Angel could see other emotions in
that steely expression as well. Impatience was one of those, and Angel worried
that if he didn’t say something soon, Spike would regret asking in the first
place and give in to the other predominant emotion on his face at the moment:
animosity. For the second time that day, Angel wished he had an answer to give.
Instead he decided to stall a bit, hoping to keep Spike from losing his
patience.
“It’s
really that important to you? What Buffy thinks?”
“Hell, yeah,”
Spike answered. “It’s everything.” He resumed pacing again. “Her faith in me
was what kept me from breaking during those days, hell weeks of torture under
the First. But I had my soul then, and I doubt I’ll be able to get that back while they’ve got me here.”
His brow furrowed for a moment then he shook his head. “No, wait. Even before
that. When we faced Glory.” He nodded emphatically. “Her trust in me is what
got me to go up against that skanky Hell bitch when I
shouldn’t have cared a lick. Well, her and Dawn…” He frowned again. “Course I
bollixed that up.”
Angel was
afraid he’d lose him again, Spike obviously being in one of his wild mood-swing
episodes. “But you made up for it this last time, right? You saved the world.”
Inwardly, he felt a twinge of nausea at having to bring that up.
“Yeah,
you’re right,” Spike said, smiling. “This time I justified her faith in me.”
“Well, just
remember that,” Angel advised. Okay so it was a little lame, and not unlike the
advice of one of those self-help gurus, but he was desperate, here. “And don’t
let Wolfram and Hart tell you otherwise.”
“Easy for
you to say,” Spike grumped. “You still have your soul. I mean what was the
first thing you…” He smirked as he corrected himself. “Angelus wanted to do whenever you flew the coop.”
Angel
frowned. That answer was easy: bite someone, kill someone, torture someone.
“Okay, I didn’t say it was easy.”
“Damn right
it’s not! But if I bite someone that would be totally evil and wrong.” He
paused a moment. “Then Buffy‘d feel she had to kill
me, and I couldn’t do that to her.”
Was it his
imagination, or did Spike’s voice just change for a moment? He definitely
must’ve been hanging around Buffy too long, because he’d even used one of her
expressions there. He seemed normal again now, though. Angel shook his head,
trying to refocus. He had to think of something. Then it came to him. “Well,
what did you do when you first got the chip? You said that you couldn’t bite anyone. So how’d you deal
with it then?”
“When I
first had the chip?”
Angel
watched Spike wince a bit, then his face took on that slightly sarcastic look
he had while relaying some extremely unpleasant memory. This didn’t look as
promising as he’d hoped.
“Hmm, well
first I nearly starved while the Initiative GI Joes hunted me night and day,
then I went crawling to my enemies for help, stayed with Rupert for a while,
then I ended up living in Harris’ basement, usually tied up no less, unless I
was trying to wash his knickers, and by that time I basically decided I’d hit
bottom and tried to off myself.”
“Xander’s basement? Doing his laundry?” Angel asked. He
shuddered at the thought.
Spike
nodded. “Yeah, and for added fun, the ex-demon girl would come over and discuss
their sex life.”
Angel’s
mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t help it; he choked back a chuckle.
“It wasn’t
funny mate,” Spike objected, but soon smirked. “Okay yeah, it was funny. But
not at the time,” he amended emphatically.
Still chuckling
a bit, Angel teased, “Look, Spike if you could live through that without
killing yourself... What changed your mind anyway?”
“Found out
I could kill demons,” Spike answered.
The two
were silent for a moment then Angel decided that if he didn’t have a permanent
answer yet, he could at least try a temporary one. “You want to go kill some
demons?”
Spike
jogged his head a little. “Okay, yeah.”
Angel
motioned for him to follow to the weapons cabinet.
“But I get
that cool battle axe,” Spike said.
Angel
sighed inwardly. And why am I doing this
again?
*********
Buffy took
one look at the traffic, the big buildings, and the somehow less intense
sunshine, and wondered what she’d gotten herself into. It was May and it didn’t
even feel very warm here. It’s only for a
little while, she told herself. They’d get things scoped out and a
headquarters set up near the Hellmouth then she could
start again somewhere else. They’d have to move to somewhere permanent a few
weeks before the next school year, so Dawn would have a chance to get settled
before it started, but… She was getting ahead of herself. They had a few months
yet.
She needed
to make a plan. They needed a place for potentials to come, or at least a place
for them to get information. Faith could have her break for a few weeks, and
then she would be here to take over as they’d planned. She could be the main
resident Slayer here.
This was
going to work. It just had to.
*********
“I’m going
to kill him,” Lilah said.
Angel
smirked. It was about time someone else had to put up with that feeling when it
came to Spike. He was still annoyed at getting demon blood and guts all over
his leather coat a few days ago, because Spike had had a little too much fun on
their demon killing outing. Of course the fact that he was so excited
afterwards that he made Angel order pizza with anchovies and listen to his part
of the adventure after they got separated during the melee didn’t help matters.
Not only had he woken up everyone in the place except Lorne, the delay had
allowed the demon guts to dry, adding to the cleaning difficulties. Of course
Spike had blamed it on shoddy workmanship as his coat had cleaned up just fine.
Angel hid
his smirk and pretended innocence as he looked at Lilah.
“Problems?”
“Oh, I’d
say there were a few problems,” Lilah said as she
plunked down rather inelegantly on a sofa in the common area of the living quarters.
She brushed her mussed hair out of her face, clearly exasperated and making no
pretense of decorum. “He ate Damien Rutherford,” she announced.
He stared
at her, waiting for the rest, because he instinctively knew that there was
more.
“First he tells
me that he’s not going to cooperate. That he won’t hurt a human, which was
annoying enough since, well, that’s usually what vampires like to do. Eat
people that is. Present company exempted of course.”
“Oh, I’d
still like to eat people. It’s the
feeling afterwards that makes it lose the appeal,” Angel joked, though inside
he was a little troubled by the news that Spike had bitten someone: a little
troubled, but not much. Damien Rutherford was one of their nastier clients from
what he knew of the man.
“So, he
resists, and I persuade him a little,” Lilah
continued.
Angel
recognized sugar coating when he heard it. “What did you do?”
“I
explained to him why Mr. Rutherford was such an important client, and that we
really needed to take care of his enemies and that draining them was a
necessary step of that process.”
“A word of
advice,” Angel began. “Spike really doesn’t trust magic, and telling him you
need blood-drained bodies for a warlock to do black magic with is not a way to
persuade him.”
“So I discovered,”
Lilah remarked.
“And I ask
again, what did you do? I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Lilah
smoothed her skirt. “Oh, did I leave out the part about sending him to a nasty
dimension where there’s nothing to eat and the time goes much quicker than
here?”
Angel gave
her a murderous look.
“Oh, come
on. What did you expect? I figured it’d give him an excuse. I didn’t leave him
there that long. Just long enough to
get hungry. Mr. Rutherford is not a patient man.”
“Not a very
good warlock it seems either if Spike succeeded in killing him.”
“Well, why
else would he need bodies to do a spell,” Lilah
answered with a shrug. “And coma is a better description of his condition than
dead.”
Angel sighed.
“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. In fact, you should be
glad I’m not in the mood to make you
very sorry.”
“Hey, I’m
just trying to do my job, which I’m beginning to see is going to be more
difficult than I thought.”
“Welcome to
my life,” Angel said. “Now, I’d leave if I were you. Before I forget that I’m
the good guy here.”
Lilah
sighed as she stood. “Spike was right. You really are a stick in the mud.”
Angel
ignored her as she exited. As for Spike, he’d get him back later.
*********
Spike was
still hungry. Even after starving in that bloody boring place, well actually
bloodlessly boring place was a better description, but even after that, a man
the size of Mr. Rutherford should have satisfied him. He was still hungry, however,
and strangely, a little guilty. That part he really didn’t understand. Not only
was the guy evil and quite deserving of being eaten, he was the Big Bad again
with no soul and therefore no reason to feel guilty in the first place.
He made his
way to the kitchen and immediately went to the refrigerator which he knew had
the blood. He drank it cold then scoffed at himself. What was he doing that
for: to punish himself? Yanking the refrigerator door back open, he reached for
some more blood, intending to heat it this time, but somehow he got distracted
by a package in the back. Grabbing it, he read the label: sharp cheddar cheese.
That actually sounded good.
He must
have dozed off for a moment, because when he came too, he’d eaten three
quarters of the cheese, and surprisingly, there wasn’t a cracker in sight. Odd,
because he somewhat fancied crackers, especially with caviar, but oh well.
Giving one last confused look at what remained of the cheese, he shook his
head, threw it in the refrigerator, and headed off to his room. He’d deal with Lilah and his Evil Bosses problem tomorrow.
He might
even sleep in.
*********
It was a
couple days later as Fred frowned at the empty place on the dresser where the
nail polish would be. She mostly found it too depressing to spend too much time
with Cordelia in her unconscious state, but she’d
decided to take the time once a week to give her a manicure and paint her
nails. She found it therapeutic to talk with her while she did it. Not that she
ever got an answer, but sometimes it was nice just to talk.
After
looking a moment, Fred gave up, but she was still troubled. She could have
sworn that she’d just bought her a new bottle of passion flower pink. She sure
hoped she wasn’t showing signs of senility already. Her reputation as an
absent-minded-professor type was already a joke amongst some of her lab techs.
It was unfair as well. Yes, she sometimes lost her train of thought, but she
took impeccable notes, and her paperwork and experiments were always organized.
It was only a misplaced bottle of nail polish, nothing to worry about.
Good thing
she still had some raspberry red left. She’d hate for Cordelia
to have to go with naked nails. She picked up the bottle and the rest of the
manicure supplies and went to visit Cordelia.
*********
A few
floors up, Spike woke to find himself staring at pink polished nails. Startled, he didn’t even notice the bottle of
passion flower pink polish sitting on his nightstand. His first concern was to
try and get rid of the stuff. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he could find
polish remover, except maybe for Fred. She was a nice enough bird. She’d
probably have some that she’d let him borrow.
He got out
of bed, dressing himself quickly as he tried to think of a legitimate reason
why he might need polish remover besides removing nail polish. Oh, removing ink
would be a good excuse. He’d say that he accidentally got marker on something.
Brilliant, he decided, but that being out of the way, he had an elevator trip
and a hallway walk to contemplate that something definitely seemed to be off
about himself lately. These blackouts of his were getting more frequent, he had
no idea what was causing them, and well, this renewed interest in nail polish
had definitely taken a disturbing turn.
*********
Fred
thanked Angel for the allowance of the petty cash. After painting Cordelia’s nails, she’d decided she’d go shopping and get
her some more polish. While she was out, she might as well pick up some nice
clothes so Cordy wouldn’t have to lie there in drab
hospital gowns all the time. Just because she was in a coma didn’t mean she had
to look bad. Cordy definitely would’ve hated that.
Fred was sure she could find something that would be stylish, yet still allow
the caregivers to do their job.
As she approached
her door, she oddly found it open. She could have sworn she closed it, and
inwardly, Fred sighed. Maybe early senility was creeping up on her after all.
Coming closer, she was relieved to see that she hadn’t left it open after all.
On the other hand, she was quite surprised as to why her door was open in the
first place.
*********
The next
time Spike came out of a blackout, he definitely knew something was terribly
wrong. It didn’t appear to be anything at first. He was simply standing in the
middle of his room, but it felt off somehow, strange, like he was standing
wrong. As he looked down, he didn’t immediately get to the reason why that was
so, because his eyes halted on the blue lacy bodice he wore.
“Gah!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is this?” He didn’t expect an answer, but a soft, feminine voice gave
him one anyway.
“What? You
don’t like it? I kinda thought the blue looked good
on you. It brings out the color in your eyes. I mean, sure, the black goes
better with the fishnet stockings and the boots but still…”
Spike
almost fell down as he caught sight of the thin, dark-haired woman who lounged
on his bed observing him: Fred. It was Fred. Obviously helping him dress up in…
Yup he was wearing fishnet stockings
with the blue bodice and… lacy blue panties! Okay, this must be a dream. Wasn’t
he supposed to be getting nail polish remover? But it sure felt real, right
down to his black, high-heeled, ankle boots. Well, those were kinda cute, now that he looked at them. Wait a minute. What
the hell was he thinking? His gaze moved back to Fred, and despite the
situation, he couldn’t stop a smirk. He should’ve pegged her as a little bit
kinky.
“Um, pet,
how long have we been at this?” he asked, more calmly than he felt.
Fred smiled
and pushed herself up a bit, curling her legs beneath her. “A little over a
half-hour I think. It took me a while to come up with stuff that would fit you,
so you had to wait.”
Okay, he
had to get information so he could do damage control. “Where did you get this
stuff again?” he asked, barely keeping the trepidation out of his voice. He
hoped no one else knew about this, and for some odd reason, an image of Wesley
flashed unbidden through his mind. He almost shuddered.
“Oh, that
was easy,” Fred answered in a bubbly voice. “I just slipped it in with a
shopping order for Cordelia. I even have some petty
cash left, so I can make a longer trip later. And don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
“Um,
thanks.”
“Yeah,
this’ll be our little secret. Charles would never understand the appeal.” She
shook her head softly, her face lowered somewhat shyly.
Spike
thought of the muscular, dark skinned man, and wondered for a moment. Nah, she’s probably right. “Probably
not, love, but maybe a little later on you might suggest…”
Fred
giggled. “Charles in this? He’s a little large. Not that you aren’t muscular
yourself, because… well, definitely muscles there.”
Her head
was tilting, taking him in, and Spike had the urge to show off for her for a moment
until he gathered his wits about him. Somehow despite the situation, she still
managed to look like a librarian. Maybe a slightly naughty one, but…
“I mean,
you might almost be able to fit in my larger nightie,
whereas Charles…” She shook her head again.
Spike tried
to process this information and surmised he must have been trying on her
nightgown or at least holding it up to himself, and that’s how she found out
about this. He decided to take a guess here. “Um, hope I didn’t rip your um…
delicates.”
“Nah,” Fred
said with a dismissive wave and a smile. “I got to you before you did any major
damage. No harm done, and besides, this has been pretty fun.” She practically
bounced with energy.
“Um yeah,
but my feet are getting a little tired. Heels and all,” he explained, picking
up a booted foot to illustrate.
“Oh, right,
sure, but before you go, you did promise.” She held out what most closely
resembled a lacy, red and black, one-piece number right out of the movie Moulin Rogue. She pouted adorably and
fastened a doe-eyed, pleading gaze on him.
No, this is bloody insane! I am not
going to put that on!
Spike thought. Whatever this is, it stops
now. I don’t care if she gets her feelings hurt. Or how cute she looks.
“I’ll close
my eyes again,” she encouraged. “And I won’t peek… well, not much anyway.” She
blushed slightly, making her look even more adorable.
Okay, he
was not getting flattered by this. He was not.
Ah, hell. He smirked sexily at her
despite himself. “I know you like that Charles guy, and I love Buffy, but…
You’re gonna think of me in that for a little bit
aren’t you?”
Fred
nodded, holding it out to him. “Maybe more than once.”
The thought
of her potentially thinking of him sometimes while she shagged her boyfriend
gave Spike a heady, guilty thrill. Well,
hey, I am evil after all. And that relationship’s a little rocky lately anyhow,
so not my fault. He walked as gracefully as he could in the heels and took
the lingerie from her, smirk still in place. “As long as it stays up there
only,” he teased, pointing to her head.
“Of
course,” she said emphatically. “I’d never…”
“Me
neither, pet. Close your eyes.”
Okay, he told himself. It’s just this once. Doesn’t make me any
less manly. I can be manly enough to pull this off, even, he reasoned. And I’m just gonna
stand here. No prancing or anything. As he looked at Fred with her eyes
squeezed shut, he shook his head slightly. I’ve
finally gone ‘round the bend. Leaving the blue number on the floor, he
wiggled into the red and black lingerie then looked at the color against his
pale skin. But hey, I still look damn
good!
And for the
umpteenth time in the past few minutes, Spike decided that something was
definitely terribly, terribly wrong with this picture.
*********
“ANGEL!
ANGEL!”
Angel’s
brow furrowed as he looked up from his book.
Spike was yelling loud enough to wake the dead. He wondered what could
possibly be wrong now. Well, actually he didn’t, but it seemed like he had no
choice in the matter, because the footsteps were getting louder. So much for
his afternoon off.
Spike burst
through his door, panting, though why he was, Angel had no clue since he didn’t
need to breathe. Spike never did seem to get that through his thick skull.
“Angel,
something’s bug-shagging wrong with me!”
“It took
you this long to figure that out?”
Spike gave
him a disgusted look. “No, you slant head, I mean I think they brought me back
wrong.”
“And why do
you think that, Spike?”
He seemed
to be calming a bit, but he still looked somewhat panicked. “I’ve been blacking
out, forgetting stuff.”
“That’s not
too bad. Your body did go through quite a bit of trauma…”
“No,” Spike
interrupted, gritting his teeth. “This is different. I’m doing strange things.”
“Like what,
Spike?” Putting his book down, Angel raised his eyebrows, waiting to be
convinced.
Suddenly
Spike became sheepish, as if he were stalling. “Um… I’m craving cheese.”
“Cheese?”
“Yeah,
cheese.”
“Well, I’ll
admit for a vampire that’s a little odd, but you always did like food, and it’s
hardly scary.”
“But why
would I…”
Angel
stared at him expectantly.
“Fine then,
there’s more.” His expression then came very close to brooding before he
suddenly stood up straighter. “Oh, remember when I bit the evil client?”
“Yes,”
Angel answered cautiously. He had no clue where this was going either.
“I felt
guilty about that,” Spike continued. “I’m not supposed to feel guilty.”
“Well, yes,
but you said that because of Buffy you didn’t want to do stuff like that.”
“Oh, yeah,
that would explain it. Sorta.” He furrowed his brow,
and resumed his contemplative efforts, but Angel could tell that he was also
still stalling.
“Spike, I
know you’re keeping something from me. If you want my help, spill it.”
Spike
sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’mdoinggirlystuff,”
he mumbled.
“What?”
“I’m doing
girly stuff,” he repeated, obviously miserable.
“Girly
stuff?” Angel really had no idea what Spike was talking about.
“Yeah.
Girly stuff.” To illustrate his point, he held up his fingernails which were
covered in nail polish.
“It’s not
the first time you’ve painted your nails, Spike.”
“Yeah, but
they’re pink!” Spike protested. “And I don’t remember doing it. It’s like I come
to and…”
Angel had
the feeling something really
traumatic must have happened to bring him here if he’d waited this long. “There
was something other than nail polish wasn’t there?”
Spike
nodded, but then lifted his chin. “But I’m not gonna
bloody tell you. Just trust me. It was something I’d never done before. What the hell is happening to me? Why am I
blacking out? And what’s with the bloody weird behavior?”
Angel
really wished he knew what had made Spike so freaked out. It was likely even
black-mail worthy, but he decided he’d do the good guy thing and help out. He
could always try to find out later. He still owed him one for the leather
jacket. “Sounds like we need to get the gang together and figure this out.
You’ll have to go through all the details of what happened that final night,
and anything you remember about coming back.”
Spike
nodded. “Okay fine. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do it.”
Angel could
feel his curiosity growing. Spike being cooperative? Whatever had happened, it
must have been really bad. He decided that he definitely was going to find out.
He supposed he also better find out what was wrong with Spike, though he was
sure that would be much less satisfying.
Such was
the burden of being the good guy.
TBC
Next
chapter: The mystery behind Spike’s strange behavior will be revealed. I
promise.