Title: Sanguine Author: Anne Rose Email: anne3rose@yahoo.com URL: http://annerose.cjb.net/btvs http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=47579 Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Seasons 6 & 7 Summary: S/B, It's the obligatory "Spike's Return", what's up with the soul, and btw I hated Seeing Red, story. Archive: Yes. I would be honored if you want to archive it. Please let me know where so I can visit it. Author's Note: Thanks to Caffey and Spiletta for asking me annoying questions so I could fix things. Thanks to Rabid/Raeann and Hubby for betaing. (c) November 19, 2002 More Author's Notes: My beta readers asked me a bunch of questions, and rather than sending the plot exposition fairy to drop anvils on you, I'm writing long, boring author's notes. You can skip ahead if you promise not to whinge later. 1) First of all, I adore Joss, but nobody is right all the time. I'm in the "that wasn't attempted rape" camp. I think Joss made a huge error in using that term - but as a male writer/executive producer in our society he probably felt he needed to in order to avoid millions of angry letters and pickets. When Buffy was constantly beating up Spike, there was no labeling of it as battery or her as an abuser. That's a classic double-standard. IMHBCO PSA - Unquestionably "no" should mean "no", and "Seeing Red" is an object lesson in why you should not keep saying no when you mean yes. (Listen to the dialog during the balcony scene in "Dead Things".) 2) I don't think everything in life has to be incredibly complicated. Sometimes you can just wake up and smell the coffee, the light bulb comes on. (Insert cliché of choice here if that didn't work for you.) 3) To whinge is to whine in England or Australia. It's not a bloody typo! I offer http://m-w.com as a reference if you still doubt me. 4) PSA stands for Public Service Announcement. 5) IMHBCO stands for In My Humble But Correct Opinion. Disclaimer: Joss and Mutant Enemy, etc... own BtVS. No infringement intended. Any resemblance to people living, dead, or undead, or to real life events is all in your mind, is downright scary, and means you seriously need to get a life. ~*~*~ Part 1 ~*~*~ "Spike, you need to get out of this basement." It wasn't the first time she'd said it, but tonight Buffy intended to make sure it happened. He ran his hands through his hair and muttered something as he curled into a tighter ball. "This is the Hellmouth, Spike. It's..." She shook her head as he babbled about evil. Reasoning with him was pointless. "I'm a bad man... I hurt the girl..." He rocked back and forth, lost in his own private hell. Buffy put her hands on her hips and sighed. She stepped back and watched him for a few minutes. The idea of hoisting him over her shoulder and carrying him out of there flitted through her mind. Too noisy, she decided, and too likely to draw attention. "Spike, I want to help you." He drew back again and ground his fists into his eyes. "I don't deserve any help... evil... don't look at me." 'That was a miserable failure,' she thought. She'd spent the whole summer preparing for this moment, first hating him, then hating herself, and finally just wanting a second chance to make things right. And now that Spike was finally back, he was insane. Buffy cursed her luck. She needed a different strategy - needed him to want to cooperate. An idea occurred to her. Buffy moved closer to him and crouched down. "Spike." She waited. He didn't respond. "Spike, I need your help." Spike's head popped up. He looked at her, almost hopeful, and then drew his shoulders up and looked away. "Help the girl. Yes, I can do that." "Good, Spike. Very good." She reached out her hand to him. "Come with me, and I'll show you how you can help." Spike jerked his hands back when he saw hers come toward him. "No touching. No touching." He shook his head and put his hands behind his back. "All right." Buffy stood and stepped back. "Follow me." She turned slowly and started to walk out. The rustling told her that he had stood up. She listened as his quiet footsteps followed her out. They walked silently from the school to her house. He was so quiet, Buffy had to look behind her several times to make sure he was still following. When she noticed Spike lagging too far behind she said, "We need to hurry." That seemed to motivate him. He caught up and walked almost beside her. 'I guess that's progress,' she thought. When they reached the house, Buffy went up and unlocked the door. Spike stood at the bottom of the steps. His shoulders were slumped and he didn't meet her eyes. He looked as if he expected something terrible to happen at any moment. "Spike, you need to come inside." She held the door open. He started when she said his name, but didn't move toward the house. Buffy sighed. He'd already been inside the house since his return. Why was he hesitating now? "Spike, are you going to help me, or are you going to stand outside till the sun comes up?" Spike bobbed his head and shuffled forward. Buffy moved inside and stood back, away from the door as he walked in and slouched against the wall. He didn't look up. "What do you need me to do?" Buffy watched Spike as he stared at his feet. This was so different from the cocky persona she had gotten to know over the years. Even at his lowest point, when he arrived in Sunnydale drunk and crying over Drusilla, he still had a certain air of confidence, or at least determination. It was hard to believe the man standing in front of her was the same person. "There's some big evil about to rise in Sunnydale. I need you here to protect Dawn." She hoped he wouldn't question her too closely on how he was supposed to accomplish that, with Dawn in school and him stuck in the house during the day. If she could just keep him away from the Hellmouth, maybe he would start to get better. He nodded, but didn't say anything. At least he wasn't babbling. "I fixed a cot for you in the basement, and there's blood in the fridge. Come on." She walked into the kitchen, and got out a packet of blood and a cup, all the while watching out of the corner of her eye to see if he would follow her. By the time the blood was warm, Spike was sitting on a stool in the kitchen. Buffy set the cup in front of him, but he didn't touch it. "Spike, you need to keep your strength up. Dawn needs your help. I need your help." He nodded and picked up the cup. He drained it in one long gulp, and then put it back down. Buffy wondered how long she could play that particular card and still have Spike respond. Hopefully it would keep working until he got better. She warmed a second cup, and he drank it down. He looked a little better, his skin seemed less gray and his eyes were not as dull. They didn't have the old sparkle, but he definitely looked less dead. "Do you want to get settled in now?" She put the cup in the sink and then led him out of the kitchen, to the basement. Buffy flicked the light on and walked down the stairs. "The cot is over here, and we made these shelves into a bookcase for you." Spike moved from the stairs to the far side of the room and examined the books carefully. He gave Buffy a confused look. "Yes, they're your books, Spike." She answered the question he seemed to ask. "Dawn and I got them from Clem. We figured you'd want them when you came back." Spike nodded. He took one off the shelf, and leafed through it. Buffy opened a box at the end of one shelf. "I know you've been writing, so we got you some things. There's paper, pens, pencils, and some notebooks. We weren't sure what you would want." "Thanks," he said, barely above a whisper. "Ok, Dawn will be home from Janice's in about half and hour. You can stay down here or go up and watch TV. I think you know where everything is. There's more blood in the fridge. If anyone uninvited drops by, weapons are in the chest in the hall." He didn't say anything, he just nodded. "I'll be at the Magic Box, there's a Scooby meeting, and after that I have to patrol. Make sure Dawn does her homework, doesn't get eaten by something nasty, and is in bed by the time I get home. Ok?" Spike nodded again. ~*~*~