Part 7

 

Author’s Note: Flashbacks are denoted by brackets [ ].

 

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“Alan’s coming?  He can’t be.  That’s not possible.”  Lydia fought the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.

 

“He’s already on his way.”  Aldric had begun pacing, running his fingers absently through his sandy hair.  This was characteristic of him when he was working out a problem.  “If he sees you, he’s going to know something’s different.”

 

“Maybe I can avoid him.”  Lydia knew it was out of the question, but she had to say it.  Aldric shook his head, still pacing.

 

“He’s coming all the way from Australia to see you.  At least that’s part of the reason he’s coming.  You can’t not see him, they‘ll know something‘s not right.”  Aldric suddenly stopped pacing, turning to look at his sister, now desolately staring into her tea cup.  “You’ll have to undo the bonding.  It’s the only solution.”  Lydia stared at him, stunned.

 

“Impossible.  That can’t be done.  Not without one of us being destroyed.”  Aldric shook his head, gesturing animatedly.

 

“No, no, no, most spellcasters think that, but it’s wrong.  There are ways to negate some bonding spells without harming either party.  I’ll need to consult some of the texts, and I’ll need the spell that you used, but I’m fairly sure it can be done.  At the very least we can try.”

 

“No.”  The word was spoken quietly, but firmly.  “I won’t undo the bonding.  I can’t.”

 

“Lydia, you aren’t thinking clearly-”

 

“Spike needs me.  To help with the prayers to the Amagandar.”

 

“If the vampire really needed you, then there would be something in the prophecy about you, wouldn’t you think?”  The combination of exhaustion and agitation fueled Lydia’s fury.  She strode to her brother and slapped him hard, leaving him completely stunned.  Out of reflex he grabbed her hand to keep her from striking him again.

 

“Aldric, YOU are the one whose always telling me that the future is uncertain, that prophecies are not always complete!  You can’t know that he doesn’t need me.”  Tears began to well up in her soft blue eyes.  “I know he does.  I can feel it.  I have to help him save them.  I can’t explain, I j-just know I d-do.”  She dissolved into broken sobs at the end, and Aldric gathered her in his arms.  He sighed in resignation.

 

“Very well, Lydia.  I won’t mention it again.  But this does leave us with a major problem to solve.”  He sighed again, seeing how completely worn out she was.  “Which we won’t get to the bottom of tonight.  You need to get some rest.  I’ll take the sofa, and we’ll tackle this again in the morning.” 

 

Lydia felt too drained to do more than nod. *Sleep really is what I need...I just hope Spike doesn’t attempt the ritual again for a few hours.  I‘ll find a way to deal with Alan tomorrow.*

 

 **************************************

 

Spike stirred restlessly in his hiding place in the Magic Box.  Tara had left to walk a sulking Willow to class.  Giles had unfortunately found her in the loft moments after she had come out of her trance and had subjected her to a twenty minute lecture on forbidden magicks and their dangers.  Willow’s expression had moved between confusion, shame and annoyance throughout, her mouth working like a fish, wanting to object but having no idea what to say in her defense.  Spike had found the entire thing highly entertaining.

 

With Tara and Xander gone, and no sign of either of the Summers girls, there was nothing to do but watch Anya and Giles.  That comedic exercise had lost his interest hours ago.  Plus he found the spell he had used on Willow left him drained and hungry, and the last bag of blood had only slightly taken the edge off.  The afternoon rush was over and the shop was relatively free of customers, so he decided that it was time to move on.  There was still the sun to worry about, but the stolen Cloak of Darkness would protect him better than his usual blanket.  Just a few feet to the sewers and he’d be home free.

 

Moving stealthily, he slipped soundlessly by Giles, engaged in an animated discussion about ancient Babylonian myth with an man who was elderly enough to possibly have known them firsthand, then by Anya, counting money in the cash register in an almost ecstatic state.  He followed a very goth-looking wicca on her way to the door.  No one observed that the door remained open a bit longer than normal when she left.

 

A few hours later, fed, rested, and dressed for the party, Spike contemplated his next move.  *Three down, four to go.  The mouse and the whelp will be at the party tonight...and my bloody lame sire’s going to have to be last, isn’t he?  Which leaves little sis.*  Spike had overheard Giles on the phone agreeing reluctantly to watch Dawn while Joyce and Buffy were out that night.  *So the Nibblet’s probably at home now...but so is Buffy.  Probably making herself all fancy for tonight, wearing her little robe while she picks out something to wear, standing before her window parading her wares for all the world to see...*  

 

Minutes later Spike was standing under the tree in front of the Summers house, smoking a cigarette with the Cloak of Darkness still wrapped around him.  The sun had nearly set, but he wanted to watch unobserved.  Dawn was chatting vivaciously with her mother in the living room.  Joyce seemed especially edgy, and kept moving about, whereas Dawn seemed to be highly amused.  Spike knew he could no longer enter the house, but planned to use the spell he had used earlier to induce the girl to come to him.  He should be watching Dawn closely for an opportunity...but there was light in Buffy’s window.  Despite all of his best efforts, he couldn’t stop himself from constantly trying to catch a glimpse of her.  He was startled when Giles seemed to suddenly appear on the porch and almost revealed his presence. 

 

*Damn, I didn’t even sense him coming.  Got to focus, mate,* he admonished himself.  Joyce had greeted Giles warmly and they had moved back to the kitchen leaving Dawn alone at the table, chewing on an pencil as she worked out some math problem.  Spike knew he had to seize this opportunity.  He closed his eyes and focused on Dawn, repeating the simple word in his head that worked the spell *Gubbaghey... gubbaghey... gubbaghey...*  Maintaining focus, he opened his eyes as Dawn slowly stood and began moving towards the front door.  She got to the door, took a step out and hesitated.  Spike realized she was resisting the spell and concentrated harder.  *gubbaghey ...gubbaghey...*

 

One step towards him...

 

*...gubbaghey...gubbaghey...*

 

Another, she was closer, but not close enough.

 

*...gubbaghey...come on, girl...gubbaghey...*

 

A few more steps, she was almost there, he could almost reach-

 

“Dawn!”  Spike gasped, and his concentration broke.  Dawn whirled to confront the voice.

 

“Mom?”  Joyce walked over to her daughter and began pulling her back towards the entrance.  Night had fallen, and she scanned the area for danger.

 

“What are you doing out here?”  She asked in bewilderment.  Dawn shrugged.

 

“I guess I needed air, I just felt like coming outside,”  Joyce didn’t reply, she almost seemed to be listening to something.  Dawn looked at her with a touch of worry.  “Mom, is everything...?

 

“Everything’s fine, Dawn.  Mr. Giles went up to talk to Buffy.  Go in and finish your homework, I’ll be in in a minute.”  Dawn grinned.

 

“You just want to keep an eye out for your dream date.”  Joyce blushed slightly but smiled indulgently back at her daughter.

 

“Go on, move it.”  Still smiling widely, Dawn bounced back into the house.  Joyce left the door open, but moved away towards the front of the porch.  She spoke out into the night.

 

“I know you’re here.  Come out where I can see you.”  Spike reeled and instinctively moved closer to the tree.  *She knows...how can she...*  He hesitated for a long moment, then came to a decision.  Removing the cloak, he moved into the light, looking up at her.

 

“Hello, Joyce,” he said evenly, noting that she looked not even remotely surprised that it was him.  “You look quite fetching this evening.”  He thought flattery couldn’t hurt, and actually it was true, she did look lovely dressed up for her date.

 

“Spike.”  The iciness in her tone actually made him shiver.  “Why are you here, and what do you want with my girls?” 

 

“Well, you see, Joyce...“ Spike had known that the question was coming, but was still struggling to come up with an answer.  The truth was out of the question.  *I came to put a little hex on your youngest so that she won’t die in a couple days time thus sending your older girl into an emotional spiral that will get her killed...see, what a good guy I am?*  As he struggled to come up with another explanation, Joyce sighed.

 

“Oh, Spike.  This has got to stop.  I won’t have you upsetting Buffy and Dawn this way.”

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lied, looking down at his feet.  He was unable to meet her gaze.

 

“We both know you do.  Buffy doesn’t want you here, Spike.  And you can’t use Dawn to get to her.  I’m warning you, keep away from my daughters,”  Spike looked up at her, having a sudden flash of memory.

 

[Spike knew victory was at hand, and a third Slayer was about to be notched into his belt.  The blonde was done and there was no way for her to escape.   And bonus, this Slayer had a adorable little sister who was crouching helplessly against the wall, dazed and paralyzed with fright and hoarse from screaming.  She was to be the reward for his triumph.  He knew the shock and pain of seeing her sister killed before her eyes would make her blood that much more sweet.  Spike raised the two by four...and flew backward from a sudden blow to the face.  He looked up at the mother lion protecting her cubs.

 

“You get the hell away from my daughters!”  Joyce spit out, and Spike knew he was in trouble.  He looked around for reinforcements and saw that the battle was all but lost.  Retreat was in order.  Looking back, he saw Buffy flanking her mother, murder her in eyes, with an equally pissed off little sister on the other side.

 

“Women!”  he muttered as he made his escape.]

 

“You haven’t got an axe, have you?”  Joyce stared at him for a moment, then completely astounded him by laughing.  It was genuine laughter, and Spike found himself joining in.  After the laughter died down, he cocked his head at her. “This thing with Buffy, I love her, Joyce, but it has nothing to do with you and me.” Joyce regarded him sadly.

 

“The funny thing is, Spike, I like you.  In another time, another place, maybe if we were both alive, we might have been friends.  But here and now, I have Buffy to think of.  And you say you love her, but you almost got her killed and you’ve frightened us all badly.  You have to go away, you can’t be around us anymore.”  Spike was surprised at how truly distressing her words were to him.

 

“No, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

 

“Yes, it does.  Spike, when Buffy ran away, I thought I’d lost her.  When she started college, she was still around, but it was like I lost her again for a while.  Now she’s here, and the crisis with me has past and we’ve gotten so close again.  I won’t do anything to risk my relationship with my daughter, and she’s clear that she wants you gone.  I know that Dawn is very fond of you, but I won’t let you use her or drive a wedge between them.  If you really love Buffy, as you say, you will leave us in peace.”  Hearing Buffy and Giles voices approaching as they descended the stairs, she made a shooing motion with her hands.  “Go now, before Buffy sees you here!  Hurry!”  Spike felt numb as he gathered up the Cloak hurriedly and vanished into the night.  Joyce watched him go, knowing she had done what was necessary, but still feeling guilty somehow.  She turned at Buffy’s approach.

 

“Mom, whatcha looking at? Is there something out here?”  Joyce smiled back at her daughter nervously.

 

“There’s nothing.  I’m just keeping an eye out for Brian.”  Buffy smiled indulgently at her mother, but placed a firm hand on her arm to draw her inside.

 

“I get it, Mom, but I think that your date would rather make small talk with the you that still has all your blood.  Inside waiting is the standard recommendation for Sunnydale dating.  Also, make sure this Brian guy comes into the house before you go without an invitation so I don’t have to worry, ‘kay?”

 

“You’re right, honey, of course.”  Joyce allowed herself to be brought inside, giving one more glimpse into the darkness.  *Goodbye, William.  I hope you find some peace.*

 

Spike stood and watched the house for a long moment before turning to head for the party.  *Goodbye, Joyce.  I will find a way to get to Dawn, and I’ll save both your daughters.  I swear on my love for Buffy.*  He shook his head and chuckled to himself. *God, I am turning into such a poof.*

 

 **************************************

Lydia stirred restlessly.  Despite her exhaustion, she had only managed a few fitful hours of sleep.  Her mind kept straying to Alan’s impending visit.  Which meant actually thinking about Alan, which was something she had been trying to avoid doing for some time.

 

She would have liked to say that she loved Alan, but it wasn’t true.  When they had first met at Cromwell,  the school where all Watcher families shipped their children for education, she had been a gawky, impressionable fourteen year old and he had been eighteen, the head of his class and so attractive and charming.  Like all the girls at school, she had had a major crush on Alan, and had swooned when he had picked her over girls so much older and prettier.  She thought she would never be happier, but then she discovered the truth.  Alan‘s declarations of love were a lie.  Their relationship had been arranged behind closed doors between Quentin Travers and her father.  Geoffrey Stokes-Martin recognized that Alan Travers would yield considerable influence, and his ambition led him to promise his only daughter to the man in exchange for more power.  And Alan went along with the plan.  Lydia’s heart was broken, but she dutifully accepted his proposal seven years later, not seeing that she had any other choice.  She had never been able to defy her father or the Council.  But secretly, in her heart, Lydia knew she had committed the ultimate sin against them all.  She had fallen in love with someone else.  A vampire.

 

It happened when she was doing her thesis.  She had originally decided to study madness and vampires, and had been doing work on Angelus and Drusilla.  Becoming fascinated by William the Bloody, she shifted gears.  Everyone found her dedication to her studies admirable, never suspecting that she was enthralled by the stories of this horrible killer.  No one, least of all Alan, ever imagined that when she was kissing her fiancee she was fantasizing about the vampire.  Only Aldric suspected that she had stronger than normal feelings, but it was inconceivable to him that they could actually be love.

 

And then her fantasy had become reality, and she was now bonded to Spike.  She suddenly sat up, anticipating another spell.  Minutes went by, and the feeling went away, replaced by a wave of sadness.

 

“No!”  Lydia didn’t realize that she’d cried out until a sleepy Aldric appeared at her bedside.  She took hold of her and wiped her tears with his palm.

 

“What is it?  What’s happened?”  She shook her head.

 

“I don’t know, something wrong.  We’re...he’s sad, I think he lost a friend.”  At Aldric’s look of alarm, she quickly amended.  “Not one of the seven, some other kind of friend, someone we...he cared about very much.  But he’s determined he’ll win her back.”  Aldric’s face was a mask of gloom.

 

“It’s already begun.  I‘m losing you.”

 

**************************************

Part 8

**************************************

 

“Don‘t be daft.  You‘re not losing me.”  Aldric shook his head bitterly at her dismissive declaration.

 

“Lydia, I love you, but I know more than you do about these things.  Bonding spells...they change people, even temporary ones.  This has already gone too far.  I need to see the ritual you used, see if there’s still time to stop this.”

 

“Aldric, no!  I will not void the bonding.  We need to do this.”  This time Lydia was firm and composed, secure in her own mind that she was right.  “What I am doing, right now, is the most important thing I’ve ever done.  If we never do anything else, we will have saved these people, and they’re good, decent people who have put their own lives on the line again and again to save the world from annihilation.  How can you ask us to stop?  If we allow you to break this spell their lives may be forfeit.”  Aldric put his hands over his eyes, knowing he would never be able to convince his sister to do what he knew was necessary.  *Everything she’s worked for, her sanity, her very soul in the balance...and I can do nothing to stop her.*

 

 **************************************

The Watcher’s Council Building was dark and quiet and bitterly cold.  This was necessary for storage of many of the antiquities and enchanted items.  There were always some people about, but at this late hour it was quiet and had the feel of a cavernous mausoleum, he thought gloomily as he picked up the phone and exchanged brief pleasantries.  This call was risky, but necessary.  Everything was coming together, but they were at a critical point.  Nothing could go wrong now.

 

“Has it been taken care of?”  The voice on the phone was crackling with static and barely audible.  It made him wince. *I hate those airplane phones, give me a headache.*

 

“Not yet, but soon.”  He had to repeat himself several times, afraid to raise his voice and risk being heard.

 

“It had better be soon, you know what’s at stake.”  Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to smile, albeit grimly.

 

“No pun intended, I’m sure.”  The man on the plane sighed.  He had often been told he had no sense of humor, and at times like this he knew that indeed he did not.  Developing a sense of humor was a useless, indulgent enterprise, and he had no interest in it.

 

“This is no laughing matter.  Make sure everything is taken care of before I arrive.  No suspicion must be placed on me, do you understand?”

 

“Of course.  What about Lydia?”  A long pause and static greeted his question, and then the explosion of an almost shouted reply.

 

“You said Lydia wasn’t a problem!”

 

“She has made no move to contact either Giles or Buffy Summers, she’s being watched and the phones are tapped.  She‘s made no calls.  But if Aldric is involved, we can’t be certain...”

 

“If need be,  I’ll handle Lydia.  You handle the rest.”  The coldness of his tone seemed to drop the temperature in the room even further, and the man shivered and swallowed hard.

 

“What will you do?”  Again a long static-filled pause.  “Hello, are you still there?”

 

“I’ll do whatever is necessary.  To stop Lydia or anyone else who gets in the way.”

 

 **************************************
 

Spike had quickly found that the stolen Cloak of Darkness was more trouble than it was worth at a college party.  Drunken students kept nearly bumping into him, and several frat boys had spilled their beer on him already.  He slipped out to the small porch on the side of the Commons and stuffed the cloak behind one of the potted plants.  Straightening up, he looked around to make sure none of the students had noticed this or that he had suddenly appeared, and was glad to see that the porch was deserted. 

 

*This may be a good place to bring Willow’s girl, or Xander,*  he thought speculatively.  It was fairly secluded, and while not without risk, it was the most private place he’d found thus far.  Glancing back inside, he saw that Buffy and her friends had just arrived together.  Buffy and Willow were greeting some women, obviously chums from school, and Xander had immediately pulled Anya to him to dance.  He was amazed at his good fortune.  Tara had wandered in his direction, and was admiring some kind of decoration that was hanging just outside the door.   Spike stole one quick look at the other Scoobies, and when none of them were looking -

 

“Mmmmph!”  Tara tried to cry out when the hands unexpectedly grabbed her, but the one over her mouth kept her from making a sound loud enough to be heard over the party music.  The coldness of the hands made panic set in.  *Oh, God, vampire, vampire, oh Willow, Buffy, anybody, help me!!!!*

She was pulled outside and shoved behind some plants into a corner, and only then did she see who had taken her.  Her expression shifted from terror to confusion to annoyance and back to less fear.  Spike moved his face close to hers so he could talk to her in a low tone.

 

“Look, I’m not going to hurt you, you know that I can’t, right?”  At her quick nod of agreement, he continued, “I just needed to talk to you, just for a-yeeow!!”  The last came when Tara suddenly bit two of his fingers.  He instinctively pulled his hand from her mouth and she instantly started to scream.  He jammed his hand back over her mouth before she could manage more than a short shriek.  Spike pressed her further back into the corner while glancing around wildly to see if anyone had heard.  After a few tense moments, he looked back at her again. 

 

“Don’t do that again, or I might have to bite you back.”  Tara’s expression showed her contempt for that statement.  “Well, I would, if it weren’t for the bloody chip, now wouldn’t I?  Now I’m going to let you go, promise not to scream again?”  Sudden inspiration struck.  “I need to tell you something, it’s about Willow, and it’s really, really important.”  At the mention of Willow’s name, Tara nodded vigorously, and Spike released her.  As he reached into his pocket for the crystal, Tara grabbed his other arm anxiously.

 

“W-what about Willow?  Is s-something going to h-happen?”  Spike held the Stone of  Mnemosyne in front of her face and she looked at it, puzzled.  “Is Willow-”

 

“You Will Forget.”  Spike picked up the fourth talisman and placed it on Tara’s forehead, then pulled the dazed girl into his arms.  As with Willow, he felt power emanating from her, but it was not as vibrant and strong, more like the pull of a slow flowing river.  It felt oddly peaceful.  He closed his eyes, smelling orchids laced with strawberries, and gathered himself.  Feeling Lydia’s mind had joined him, he took an unneeded breath.

 

“Oops, dude, sorry!  Didn’t realize this corner was in use!  My bad.”  Spike turned his head to see a boy in an atrocious Hawaiian shirt pulling an obviously tipsy brunette coed behind him.  The boy’s face was as red as his hair.  The girl was stroking his arm, weaving on her feet.

 

“Well, damn right it’s occupied!  Find your own corner and leave us to our business.”

 

“Keith, leshgo.”  The girl mumbled, pulling at him, and the two headed back inside.  Spike put his face back in Tara’s hair.  *Too close, too close.*  He felt Lydia’s calming presence almost immediately, and as he closed his eyes again, he could see her face.  It was starting to feel natural to see her, as if she had always been there like this, another part of himself.  They began to chant the petition as one.

 

“I beseech you, Amagandar

Protect this innocent soul

From the curse that belongs to another

Remove the affliction

Restore the life line

I beseech you, Amagandar

Let not this friend be taken

This plea I make with sincere heart

By my words, let it be true.”

 

Spike didn’t know the witch very well, but that peaceful energy was comforting.  *I know they need her, don’t let her die.* The smell of sage and rosemary once again wafted on the wind, and Spike and Lydia sighed from different parts of the world.  It was all coming together, and at that moment they felt like nothing could stop them.

 

Willow had noticed that Tara was missing a few minutes ago, and now the Scoobies were searching the party for her with varying degrees of concern.  Xander and Anya stopped Keith and his girlfriend as they were coming back inside.

 

“Hey man, we’re missing a friend, you didn’t see a girl out there about yeah high, dark blonde ponytail, pretty with big doe eyes?”  Anya glared at Xander’s description.

 

“Pretty?  You think Tara’s pretty?”  When Xander rolled his eyes at her, she quickly added.  “Of course you do, because she is very...pleasing...I am not threatened, because you love me.”  Xander had basically ignored this statement because he was waiting on the couple to answer his question.

 

“There’s a girl out there, I’m not sure what color her hair is, she’s making out with some guy.”

 

“Thanks, man.” Xander nodded and stepped aside to let them pass.

 

“That’s not Tara, she’s very gay,” Anya piped up loudly, but the couple had already walked away.   Seeing Willow waving for their attention, Xander took Anya’s arm and dragged her in that direction.

 

“Any luck?”  Willow asked, real alarm in her voice.  The others shook their heads as Buffy walked up.  “Buffy?”

 

“It’s a big place, Will,”  Buffy said comfortingly.  “She’s here somewhere, we’ll find her, or she’ll find us.”  Although they were searching the room for any sign of their friend, none of them saw Spike slip back inside the party. 

 

“Y-you don’t think, a vampire might have, have grabbed her, because this isn’t somebody’s home, they wouldn’t have to be invited, this is a common place, it’s called the Commons, you don’t get more common than that, and she could have been taken, couldn’t she, I mean she was there one second, and then the next she was gone, and oh, God, Buffy-”

 

“Hey, what’s going on?” At the sound of Tara’s voice and the feel of  the hand on her shoulder, Willow whirled and gathered her girlfriend in her arms, giving her a very passionate, very public kiss.  Buffy sighed in relief.  Seeing Xander watching their two friends with a glazed expression, she elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Xander, come dance with me.  Before I have to hurt you, or your girlfriend does.”  Xander tore his eyes away from the kiss to look down at Buffy, then at Anya, both glaring at him.  He gave them a sheepish grin as Willow released Tara.

 

“Wow, honey, what-”  Tara began dreamily.

 

“Tara, where have you been?  We’ve been looking everywhere, I thought something happened.”

 

“I was...mingling, and then I went...outside, I guess I needed air for a second.  I didn’t think I was out there that long.”  Tara didn’t actually remember going out on the porch, in fact she didn’t remember arriving at the party at all.  Thinking about Willow’s strenuous denials about having a reason to go to the loft in the Magic Box that morning, she began to wonder if something strange wasn’t going on. *I don’t want to worry Willow about it, though, she’s already upset.  Not until I know something’s wrong.*  She let Willow bring her to the refreshment table as Xander took Buffy onto the dance floor.  After getting drinks for Willow and Anya, and studiously avoiding the leers of some of the more drunken fraternity brothers, they watched Xander dance with the Slayer.  Unseen by them, Spike was watching the same thing, his eyes narrowing.

 

A short while later, Spike watched as Buffy coyly approached and flirted with another man, this one the same one he had seen her talking to at the Bronze.  *Looks like another boy like Captain Cardboard.  This one doesn’t even seem that manly.  And what kind of shirt is that?  That‘s just horrible.*  The boyish man walked away, and now Buffy was all alone, waiting.  Vulnerable.  Approachable.  Spike hesitated.  He knew what would happen if he went over there.  Buffy was really angry with him still about the kidnapping, and that business with Dru, and she would make sure he knew how furious she was.  The fire would be in her eyes as she told him to stay away.  Her nostrils would flare ever so slightly with distaste.  He closed his eyes, a small shiver of anticipation running through him.  The image of Lydia’s face frowned at him disapprovingly.  *This has nothing to do with your prophecy, pet.  Stay out of it!* he thought to her.  He wasn’t sure if she could understand him, but the image went away. Spike licked his lips and headed over to her.  He watched her for a few moments before stepping up next to her.  She turned and looked at him stonily, with the hatred he had known he would see.

 

“Small world.”  Spike smirked.  She stared daggers at him, saying nothing. “Oh dear, if looks could stake.  Are you having fun, pet?  Trolling for your next ex?  Gotta say, you could do better.”  *Ah, yes, there’s the fire, the hatred, God I love you Buffy.*

 

“I told you I wo-”

 

“You think I was gonna leave town?  Free country.  Free party.”  He reached into a nearby snack bowl nonchalantly.  Maybe he could actually get her to grab him, push him, hit him, touch him. “You want me to leave you can put your hands on my hot tight little body and make me.” He popped a piece of the snack in his mouth and chewed, waiting. *Hmmm, salty.*

 

“Get away from me.”  Buffy’s spit out the words through teeth clenched as tightly as her fists.  She was maintaining control, not moving towards him.  Oh, well.  Another time.  They stared at each other a moment longer, then Spike inclined his head and moved away from her, enjoying the knowledge that she would watch him go. 

 

When he looked back, though, he was disappointed to see that the stupid boy in the stupid shirt had come back.  *Drat.  Oh God, is that...his number?  Buffy don’t take it!*  He saw her take the scrap of paper tentatively, he could tell she was nervous but interested.  They talked for a bit more, then Buffy smiled at the loser. *That’s it then, two can play this, Slayer.  How will you feel when I hook up with a bird of my own?*  He moved through the crowd hastily, approaching an extremely attractive girl standing where he knew Buffy would have a good view.

 

“And who are you, darlin’?” he asked loudly, looking across the room at Buffy.  *Ah, you looked, Buffy, you can’t help yourself.*  The pretty girl looked at him earnestly.

 

“I’m April.  I’m looking for my fella.”  *Quaint turn of phrase, this is a queer bird.  But she’s certainly pretty enough to make Buffy squirm.*

 

“Maybe you just found him,” he answered in his sexiest voice.

 

“Really?  Where?”  Spike leaned in to her and whispered in her ear.

 

“Why don’t you let me be your fella, luv?  I’ll kiss you for days and make your blood boil.”

 

What happened next was a blur.  The girl pulled away from him snarling, and grabbed his shirt.  His feet left the ground, he heard her shout something about not being her boyfriend, and then he was flying through the air.  He felt glass shatter as he flew through the window, and landed hard outside.  He winced at the feel of new cuts on this hands and face.  His hand automatically went to his pocket to make sure his magick possessions were safe.  Assured, he stood shakily and looked back through the now empty window frame at the girl and the gaping partygoers behind her. 

 

“Bloody hell!  You threw me through a window!”  He stared at her incredulously.  “What’s that about?”

 

“You cannot make those suggestions to me. I have a boyfriend. Warren is my boyfriend.”  Spike began to feel angry.  Buffy had rejected him, this weird girl had thrown him through a window, the Watcher had somehow gotten stuck in his head.  It was all too much.

 

“Know what?  My bleedin sympathies to Warren!”  He limped away with the little dignity he had left, heading for his crypt.  *That’s it.  I’m calling it a night.  There’s still two days left to get this bleedin prophecy averted, and I don’t know if I even care to do it anymore.  Like Buffy deserves to be happy after the way she’s treated...bloody hell!*  His mind instantly flooded with the painful images of three deaths, particularly Dawn’s, and Buffy’s tearstained face.  He was driven to his knees in anguish.

 

“I’ll save them!  I will!  For God’s sake, stop it!”  He cried out into the night, and the feeling instantly went away.  He took a moment to gather himself, then stood up and traveled the rest of the way home without exhibiting any emotion at all.  Somehow he knew that half a world away, Lydia was weeping for the both of them.

 

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