TITLE: Fall from Grace
AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue
RATING: R
SUMMARY: "Don't look so serious old 
man...even demons can fall from grace."
DISCLAIMER: Nope don't belong to me!! :P
ARCHIVE: Please do just let me know! :D
FEEDBACK: Live & Die for!!
foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com
Kitsunegari2001@aol.com
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The poem recited by Spike in
the chapel was written by Robert Graves. I
discovered it in the book "Spiritual
Illuminations: Meditations for Inner Growth" 
edited by Peg Streep.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fall from Grace
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 
Part I
 
 
It was so real.
 
The smell of gunpowder, the coppery tang of fresh
blood all with the underlying scent that was her.
 
Oh, Goddess...please...no.
 
Such silence.
 
Those first few seconds were the worst. A faint
stir of air from the bedroom window, the taste of
her skin still on her lips. 
 
Just to find her again only to lose her just as 
quickly as a breath. A single breath, a simple 
heartbeat and it was over.
 
Then blackness.
 
Willow woke with a start cold sweat soaking the
back of her nightshirt, gooseflesh rippling up
her arms. Rolling over she reached out like she
had for so many other nights for the one thing
she could never have again. 
 
"Tara...," she whispered through a tight throat, 
past a dry mouth.
 
Since she had left Sunnydale for England there 
had been only two dreams. Tara's death and then
the murder she had committed. She, Willow
Rosenberg, had blood on her hands both literal
and psychologically. Never mind that it was the
bastard who had murdered Tara that she had rid
the world of or that he had deserved worse.
 
Shaking she finally released the choking sobs 
she had fought since waking. Even though she 
knew she had to grieve she didn't want to wake 
Giles down the hall. Slipping on her discarded 
jeans, she grabbed her sneakers and quietly moved
out and down the hall.
 
Even though she had been born Jewish, then had 
became Wiccan, she still had found solace in the 
church across the way from the cottage she and 
Giles shared. Once she was outside she slipped 
on her shoes, trudging across the road by moon
light alone.
 
She had just reached the door, fingers wrapped 
around the cool metal handle, when she realized 
she wasn't alone. There was a sharp crack
followed by the faint aroma of sulfur, then a
bright flare as the match head lit.
 
"Night Red. A young girl shouldn't roam the
country alone in the middle of the night."
 
Her eyes widened as she caught the glitter of
Spike's eyes in the matches flame. Of all the
people she had thought of finding here, he was
the last she would have expected.
 
"What in the name of the Goddess are you doing
here?" she hissed.
 
"My...my...my Red found us a set after all did
we?" Inhaling he flicked the smoldering match
into the darkness.
 
Pushing the door inward she glared over her
shoulder, a smile gracing her face for the first
time in weeks. "Bite me Spike! Oh...yeah that's
right...you can't."
 
Before he could react the door had slammed behind
 
her retreating form.
 
William inhaled again, the tip of the fag
swelling into a knot of bright cherry red. He had
known something had happened, but what he had no
idea. The quick conversation with Buffy hadn't
filled in the blanks, but then he had his own
problems to face up too.
 
Pushing the door open he stepped into the nave
going still as one of the statues that stood on
either side of the main aisle. After a few
seconds he released a breath he hadn't realized
he was holding.
 
Breath.
 
He had to breath now. Something to get used to
after not having to for over a hundred years. 
 
There was a part of him that was terrified that
he would be struck down by the wraith of God for
stepping through that door. A flicker of dark
memories rose to the surface for a moment sending
bile flooding his mouth.
 
"Jesus...," he whispered dropping his fag onto
the cold stone. "...bloody memories are going to
kill me."
 
Moving past the font he paused as he had all
those years ago, then crossed himself. It wasn't
until he was halfway down the aisle that he
realized what he had done.
 
Willow sat eyes locked on the stained glass
window that took up a good portion of the front
wall. In the night it lost some of it's beauty,
but she knew that she would be here when the sun
rose. It was at that moment, between night and
day, that she had hope for a new beginning. It 
was also one of the few moments she wished Xander
could be there with her.
 
"Goddess I am at a lose to understand why I did
what I did...no that's not true. I wanted to hurt
the world...I just don't know if I can do this. I
miss her so much...it feels like there's a  hole
inside...," sniffing back the tears that
threatened she tried to ease the dull ache.
 
"I'm sorry Red...I didn't know."
 
She turned around swiping the tail of her tee
shirt across her nose and eyes. Behind her Spike
leaned against one of the empty pews an unlit
cigarette dangling from his fingers.
 
"How?" She was in shock. Sure the chip would stop
him from killing a human, but a church? He was a
demon after all.
 
"That's why I'm here doll. Something's happened
and ol'Watcher boy might be the only one who can
help."
 
"Giles? What makes you think he'll help you?
Buffy told him what you tried to do before you
vanished."
 
His head fell, eyes averted to the stone floor
like a sad puppy.
 
"That was Spike...I wanted her so bad, but
now...,"
 
With a quick jerk she stood brow furrowed with
annoyance and confusion."Your still Spike no
matter what's happened to you. Your still
responsible for what you...,"
 
"Dammit! Don't you know I bloody well understand
that?! Buffy understands and she's the only one
that damn well matters!"
 
In his tone she could sense something she had
thought impossible. He was truly sorry for what
he had done. Moving to the pew across from where
he stood Willow leaned back eyes carefully
studying the man before her.
 
"Giles won't like you being here...I'm a big
enough problem without adding anything else to
the mix." She couldn't help the faint sigh that
escaped her trembling lips.
 
Drawing closer to Willow, he let his arm fall
loosely across her slumped shoulders. It wasn't
like he didn't understand where she was coming
from. William had been nothing, but dead weight
to everyone around him. 
 
A joke.
 
Then there was Drusilla.
 
A perfect, fragile china doll with wild dark eyes
that seemed to call to a part of his soul that he
had denied.
 
*William...sweet William don't you want them to
pay?*
 
Deep in the pit of his stomach a bitter taste
swelled up until it teased at the back of his
contracting throat. 
 
*Come play with Drusilla sweet William*
 
Grunting he hit the cold stone floor, the impact
jarring his teeth. 
 
*They hurt you...make them feel your pain
William. Make them understand my luv*
 
"Spike? Spike?!"
 
With a sleepy blink he focused on Willow's pale
face thinking she looked more Irish than Jewish.
 
"Mmmm...wha' happened Red?" A dull throb rolled
across the back of his eyes making even the dim
candlelight to much to bear.
 
"I...I don't know. There was lots of crying...bad
crying...since when...I mean how can you. Darn!"
Brows knotted she collapsed into the pew
frustrated beyond words.
 
Laughing he struggled to stand on wobbly legs
that seemed weaker than a new born colt's. Willow
could lighten a room even with that frown. Hell,
it was more of a pout than anything else really.
 
"That's part of the reason I'm here Witchy girl.
I'm not what I was...hell if I know what I am
anymore. Your little friend Giles I think might
be the only one that can tell me what I am now."
 
They sat quietly staring up at the stain glassed
window, the faintest light of dawn beginning to
back light the meridian colors. A heavy sigh
tickled his ears as he quietly searched for a
fag, then lit it, the taste sweet to his frazzled
nerves. 
 
Maybe this had been a mistake.
 
Maybe he was a love sick fool who had made one to
many bargins with the devil.
 
"It reminds me of Tara...," her voice was a faint
echo in the candle lit shadows.
 
He wanted to ask her what, but thought better of
it. There were moments when people, especially
grieving ones, just need to remember. To speak of
their lose.
 
"...all those colors...layer after layer and I
never thought I deserved to discover any of them.
She was so beautiful...," a soft sob tore apart
her next words.
 
"I loved someone once like that."
 
Willow turned tear filled eyes to the man who sat
next to her. For a moment she could almost see
the man Spike had once been before the darkness
had claimed his soul.
 
"I had long known the diverse tastes of the wood,
Each leaf, each bark, rank earth from every
hollow, Knew the smells of bird's breath and of
bat's wing, Yet sight I lacked: until you stole
upon me, Touching my eyelids with light
finger-tips. The trees blazed out, their colours
whirled together, Nor ever before had I been
aware of the sky...," his whispered words faded
into the shadows as Willow swallowed back tears.
 
"Robert Graves...it's very beautiful."
 
He turned to face her exhaling a cloud of ashy
smoke. "She didn't give a damn not really...she
never had, but Buffy does."
 
Willow raised one slim brow in shock.
 
"She loves me and that's enough to make me
fight."
 
All she could do was nod. There was no doubt  in
her mind that he was telling the truth. When she
had been possessed by the dark magiks, when she
had drawn the essence from Giles she had felt all
the pain of the world.
 
She had felt those closest to her first.
 
Buffy was her friend and she had felt her pain.
There had been this overwhelming desire to hide
from what she knew was the truth. Still even now
the echo of that pain lingered.
 
*...can't love him...no soul...it's a monster...*
 
Standing Willow took his hand drawing him to his
feet. With a soft smile she led him down the
aisle towards the door.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Giles sang softly to himself as he dressed the
smell of eggs and sausage drifting in from the
kitchen. This was more than he could have hoped
for after only a few weeks. Willow had been so
withdrawn and quite for so long, but waking to
the smell of food cooking was a good sign.
 
One last glance in the mirror, then he was out
the door and down the hall to the cottage
kitchen. His song halted mid word when he saw
Spike standing over the stove flipping sausages
onto a plate. Willow was filling the sink with
soapy water and seemed not in the slightest
peturbed by the vampires presence.
 
"So Red when do you suppose Giles will get his
bloody ass out of bed?"
 
Giles open his mouth to protest when he heard it.
 
Laughter.
 
Willow was laughing?
 
Willow was laughing!
 
"He was up late William...he's worried about me.
I wish I could make it...,"
 
"Giles' bloody ass is out of bed."
 
Both of them turned with a surprised look on
their faces. Stepping into the kitchen he moved
to within a spare foot of Spike, his eyes dark
with barely suppressed rage.
 
"Exactly why are you here Spike?"
 
Rather than stand against him glare for glare he
turned his eyes to the floor.
 
"It's William...not Spike...please." His eyes
then lifted back to met Giles' harsh stare.
 
A sudden realization hit Giles just as he opened
his mouth to speak. Spike was standing in broad
daylight! There was no way a vampire could do
that.
 
"Does Buffy know?" he stepped closer.
 
"She's the one that told me where you were."
 
Circling Spike he studied him with baffled eyes.
How did something like this happen? How does a
vampire suddenly become human over night?
 
"I know what your thinking and your wrong I'm not
completely human Giles."
 
"Exactly how do you know that? You don't appear
to be a vampiric in anyway. Do you have
incisors?"
 
Spike shook his head.
 
"Sunlight doesn't affect you."
 
"No, it doesn't."
 
"He can be on holy ground!" Willow piped up, her
cheeks glowing red. "...uhhh...sorry."
 
Giles pulled out a chair, settling down at the
rough wood table, fingers rubbing the bridge of
his nose. This was crazy, he thought, the only
oddity he had ever heard of was Angel, but he was
still a vampire. Even with a soul he still was
just that a vampire besides that had been the
result of a curse.
 
"You must be human though I have no idea how that
is possible."
 
Spike let out a gruff laugh, then turned to the
stove where the skillet still sat over the open
flame. Before either Willow or Giles could stop
him he lifted the skillet up and thrust his hand 
into the flames.
 
"William!" Willow cried out lunging across the
small kitchen.
 
Giles was quicker though.
 
Kneeling before the obviously insane vampire he
forced him to look up. Pain filled eyes met his,
yet through the pain there was an edge of
familiar defiance.
 
"I told you I'm...not...human!" 
 
Lifting his hand into plan view he gritted his
teeth as the other two watched in horrified
fascination. First muscle then skin began to knit
before their wide eyes. Within a matter of
seconds his hand was healed, the skin smooth and
flawless.
 
"I told you...," he whispered.
 
"It's impossible," Giles grabbed his hand,
turning it every which way. "Not the faintest
scar...nothing. It's as if it never were burned."
 
"Well, Giles old man what's it going to be?"
 
Confusion clouded his eyes for a moment, then he
began nodding. There was no other answer to be
given. He had an inkling now of what had happened
to Spike, but he had to be sure...he had to know
if he was right.
 
"Don't look so serious old man...even demons can
fall from grace."
 
To be continued...