By Jody E.
Buffy walked into the hotel room and sat down wearily on the bed. Dawn was off sightseeing, with her guidebook and camera in hand. All she was missing was a large sign that said, "Tourist," hanging around her neck. Still, she should be safe enough in the daytime. She had promised Buffy to be back in the room before dark. Since it was almost June, and the days were long, that should give her plenty of time. Buffy had a sudden thought. Vampires must hate the summer with its long days and short nights. Funny, in all her years of dealing with vampires, that had never occurred to her before. Weird.
But none of this was solving her problem. She got up and opened the mini bar and took out a Diet Coke. Let the Council pay the exorbitant price. Maybe she’d order a couple of the pay per view movies too. Serve them right! Buffy sat down again. She had just met with Tina and Prunella. Okay, it was Priscilla; she only looked like a Prunella! Tina seemed like a nice enough kid, though. It was a difficult situation, no doubt about it. Buffy wished that she had someone to advise her. Like Giles. Xander and Willow were terrific friends but they were so pro-Buffy, that they couldn’t be objective. They would vote firmly for retaining the status quo. Giles would have been able to see the bigger picture at least, as much as he had loved her. Though perhaps, if he had lived, he wouldn’t have minded having her retire. They could have had more children and she could have lived that normal life she had always wanted. Wanted, that is, until confronted with the opportunity to actually have it…to lose the powers she had been given 11 years ago, powers that were as much a part of her now as breathing. Buffy stood up and began to pace the room. Could she make that sacrifice? Was it really necessary? What would she be if not the Slayer?
On impulse, Buffy sat down and dialed the number that had stayed in her memory since last night. But before the phone had a chance to ring, she slammed the receiver down again. She looked at her watch. Four O’clock, Would William even be up yet? It was still 4 more hours until the sun set. Funny. In Sunnydale Buffy had barged in on Spike any time of the day or night. She shook her head at the memory. Arrogant much? Well, this was important. She wouldn’t even be talking to him otherwise. She hadn’t forgotten her resolve from last night. But William was in some ways a slayer, himself. He would at least be able to give her a different viewpoint. She dialed the number. After a few rings the answering machine picked up. Damn. He probably turned off the phone while he slept.
"Hello, William? This is Buffy. Could you please give me a call when you wake up? I need to talk to you. My room number is 1254. Thanks." She hung up.
Moments later the phone rang. William’s voice sounded sleepy but concerned. "Buffy, what’s wrong?"
"Uh, nothing’s wrong exactly. I just met with the Slayer wannabe and her Watcher today. I have to make an important decision and I’m driving myself crazy here. I was wondering if I could talk to you about it? "
"Sure, pet. But you’ll have to come here. It’s a bit early for me to be out and about. " He gave her the address, and she hung up and called the front desk for a cab. She left a note for Dawn, "I went over to talk to William about this whole retirement issue. If I’m not back by dinnertime, order something expensive from room service. " She included William’s phone number, in case of emergencies and signed it, "Be Good, Buffy"
When the cab pulled up in front of William’s building, Buffy couldn’t believe her eyes. The place was a dump! This was his successful business? She looked the plaque with his logo...he shared the building with a Fortuneteller and what...a spy? Wonderful. Where was the massage parlor? This was so typical of Spike to boast about his success, and have it all be a bunch of hot air. He probably rented that damn suit he wore to Giles’ funeral. Or stole it. She pushed the doorbell. A loud buzz indicated the door was unlocked. She went inside the musty smelling vestibule. A sign on the elevator said "Out of Order" Someone had scrawled across it in magic marker, ‘So what else is new!"
She walked up two flights of stairs to a dingy hallway. She saw the door with Big Bad Investigations printed on the dirty glass. Oh this was very impressive. She knocked. William opened the door. He was wearing jeans and a sweater, and his hair was still damp from the shower. "Come in. Welcome to Big Bad Investigations. No problem too big, too small or too gruesome! "
He smiled to himself as Buffy took in the office décor. A human skull had the place of honor on his dusty cluttered desk. A certain black duster hung from a rickety coat rack. The answering machine was the only piece of equipment that looked like it came from the 20th century. Even the typewriter was manual, and was so dusty it looked as though it hadn’t been used in years. The one window had blinds that were missing a few slats. No light could get in though, because the glass was encrusted with dirt. The back wall was covered with dirty purple velvet drapes. A couple of gruesome Goya etchings on the wall completed the ambience.
"Charming." Buffy said.
"Sorry about the mess. It’s my charwoman’s century off."
Was William not even embarrassed about this place? Even his crypt had been a showplace compared to this! He laughed at her dismay.
"I know what you’re thinkin’, pet. It’s all image. Think about it. I’m the one they come to when all else fails. When the police laugh in their faces. When the regular detectives kick them out of their offices. This is the bottom of the barrel, pet and they expect it to look like this. Then I come in dressed in my basic black, and they know they’ve found the real deal. A real creature of the night who will tackle that demon, or stake those pesky vampires or deal with things too nasty and slimy for the upright citizens of the world to handle. I deal only in cash. I have no written records. I tell no tales out of school. They love it, pet. It’s made me rich. "
"I thought you said that you were legit."
"I said, pretty near legit. I don’t steal. I don’t murder humans...well, for obvious reasons. I stay just under the radar of the IRS and other government types. And I like to think I do some good. "
"But how can you live like this? Though I guess it is a step up from the crypt.." She looked around. She didn’t see a bed or even a couch, just a couple of sagging chairs.
"Who says I live like this? " He pulled open the moldy drape on the back wall revealing a door. He opened it, and beckoned Buffy inside. She walked into William’s living room and stood there with her mouth open.
"Oh." was all she could manage. This was the apartment of the William in the Armani suit. It wasn’t large, but it was beautiful, with thick carpeting and leather sofas, and well stocked bookshelves. She stared at the entertainment center. She and Giles had barely managed a VCR. This control panel looked like it could launch space shuttles. She started to giggle. This was just too much. Too much contrast for her poor mind to handle. "Sorry William, it’s a great place, I just…" She froze.
William looked at Buffy. She was staring at the painting on his wall. One he had painted himself a few years ago. It was his best work, though Van Gogh probably didn’t have to worry. It depicted a blond girl in a black leather jacket sitting on the back porch of her home. She was crying. He thought that he had done a good job of capturing her despair and loneliness, though the perspective of the porch was a little off.
"Spi..William…is that me?" she asked in a choked voice.
Was she angry? He couldn’t tell. "Uh, yes…Buffy, it is."
"But..but how did you do that? You didn’t take a picture of me that night. You did this from memory? "
"I remember every detail of that night, Buffy. It was kind of a turning point for me. Seeing you sittin’ there on that porch, cryin’ like that. You, know, You never even asked me why I had a rifle with me that night."
"A rifle…that’s right. I barely noticed."
"I was going to kill you. Buffy. Good an proper. To hell with the chip...I would have endured the pain."
Buffy was astounded. "Why?"
"Because you had hurt me. Throwing that money at me with such contempt, such loathing. I wanted to kill myself, but you first."
"But you didn’t. You came and sat down beside me. You...you were kind to me. I remember that."
"Because when I saw you cryin’ on the porch, you looked so…alone. So sad. And I felt somethin’ I hadn’t felt in 120 years…compassion."
"Compassion? I didn’t think that was possible."
"It was kind of a surprise to me too."
‘And that was a turning point? How?
"I realized then that I had a choice. I didn’t have to be evil, even though I didn’t have a soul ordering me about."
"Well, I didn’t notice any big change in your behavior after that."
"No, Buffy, you didn’t."
She frowned.
William continued, "I think people only see what they expect to see. And to be fair, I didn’t exactly turn into Mother Theresa."
Buffy thought of a dungeon and chains. "No, I can’t say that you did. But if I recall, you did seem to be trying to help. Getting in the way mostly. Kind of the way my daughter helps."
"So, tell me something, when Emily tries to help and makes a bollix of it, do you punish her?"
"No…of course not...how else will she learn? "
"I see. "
"So, what are you trying to tell me, Spike? That we didn’t encourage you to be good? That you needed us to treat you like a four-year-old?"
"Well…yeah. I was a babe in the woods as far as trying to do the right thing was concerned. I know I screwed up more often than I succeeded. But I did try, Slayer. And maybe you would have noticed if that whole Drusilla mess hadn’t happened. I can’t tell you how often I’ve relived that night trying to figure out how it went so awfully wrong."
"Rule of thumb, Spike? Chains and cattle prods? Never a good idea."
"Yeah...I’ve learned a few lessons about dealing with human women over the years. None quite as painful as that one, though. "
Buffy shook her head, "Well, it’s all water under the bridge, Spike. William. I forgave you a long time ago. I hope you’ve forgiven me. "
"I could never stay mad at you, Buffy, even when I hated you. And you didn’t come here to rehash the past, anyway. You have a problem? "
"Kind of a major one."
"Would you like some tea? I do have a kitchen of sorts. And I can boil water like nobody’s business."
Buffy smiled. "That would be nice. Uh...do you by any chance have a bathroom?"
"Well, since this is the 21st Century, most flats these days seem to come with ‘em. Mine is through the bedroom, there. "He indicated a door to her left.
Buffy walked into William’s bedroom. She smiled at his bed, which wasn’t round and mirrored, but quite ordinary. The bathroom was tiny, but immaculate. She fixed her hair in the mirror over the sink, wondering, not for the first time, how vampires shave, or even if they shave. And how did Spike bleach his hair all those years if he couldn’t see it? As she left the bathroom, Buffy noticed that the closet door was ajar. She walked over quietly, and opened it. He only had two suits, but they were expensive. The same with his shoes. Only a couple of pairs, but good ones sharing the floor space with a pair of high, black, scuffed Doc Martin steel toed boots. A few shirts, one tie hanging on the back of the door. A brown leather jacket that reminded her of one Riley used to have. The rest of the closet was empty. No secret Buffy shrine. Not that she had really expected one, after all these years.
"See anything you like, pet?" Buffy jumped, caught snooping. "I thought maybe you drowned. Tea’s ready." Buffy opened her mouth to explain, but William just laughed.
"No need to apologize for snoopin’. Pet. I’ve done my share of that at your place, never fear."
Buffy and William sat down, she on the brown leather sofa, he in a matching easy chair.
"Well, I met with the new slayer to be and her watcher today. The fact is the Council of Watchers doesn't even know if she will be the next slayer called. There are slayers in training all over the world, and probably some, like I was, that nobody even knows about. So, it’s just an educated guess that she will be next because she’s the only identified slayer in New York and that’s where the latest hotspot is. I was called in California because that’s where the Hellmouth was."
"And they want you to step down so that this girl can become the next slayer?"
"Yes. The situation in the City is becoming desperate. You know what it’s like."
"I do. We certainly could use a Slayer. But don’t the Powers That Be usually take care of these things?"
"Unfortunately, the way The Powers usually take care of these things would involve me dying…So, this solution is preferable. Except that I don’t want to give up my powers!"
"Well, what about Faith?"
"Faith? " Faith had finally been released from prison the month before. She was in a halfway house now, and in a few months would go to work for Angel Investigations. "The Council would never take Faith back as a slayer. They don’t trust her."
"I mean, why don’t they retire her? Wouldn’t the new Slayer be called then?"
"That never occurred to me. I don’t think it’s occurred to the council either."
"Why don’t you ask them then, I’m sure they would be glad to oblige."
Buffy thoughtfully sipped her tea. After a long moment she said. "I can’t do it."
"Why the hell not? It would solve everybody’s problem, wouldn’t it?"
"Except Faith’s."
"Right. Your best friend, is she?"
"Look, William, Faith has done some pretty rotten things to me. You don’t know the half of it. But, she’s done her time. According to Angel, she is totally rehabilitated. He’s been visiting her regularly for years. Her life is going to be tough enough without losing her powers on top of it. Plus, she would have to agree...to give them up voluntarily. That’s how it works. And if I were her, I certainly wouldn’t want to do the council that type of favor. What have they ever done for her? No…I think this is up to me." She sighed.
William was silent.
"What are you thinking?" said Buffy finally.
"I’m thinkin’ that it’s taken me six years, but I’ve finally learnt to keep my mouth shut."
"Why...what were you going to say? Tell me the truth."
"Listen cutie, one thing I’ve learnt about birds is that when they ask you to tell ‘em the truth, they don’t really want you to."
"Well, I’m not one of your girlfriends, William, so out with it!"
"We’ve actually been getting’ along this visit. Don’t want to spoil it."
"Well consider it spoiled, as of now!" Buffy got up and grabbed her purse. "I’ve made up my mind. I’ll phone the Council tomorrow. Thanks for the advice!"
"Wait! If you already hate me again, I may as well tell you what I think."
"Well?" Buffy sat back down and looked at William. He stood up and started pacing restlessly while he spoke.
"Okay…Well…it’s always got to be about you, doesn’t it? I mean you have to be the one to make the big sacrifice, give up your powers for truth, justice, and the American way. Earn all kinds of Brownie points from the Council too. And for what? So you can be Buffy the martyr? Well, what about Faith? Maybe she wants to be the hero of the hour. Maybe the council can offer her something she wants more than her powers. I don’t know. I don’t even know the chick. But shouldn’t she at least have the same choice you have? "
Buffy’s eyes had blazed with anger at the beginning of William’s speech, but by the end it had died out. She sat quietly for a moment.
"My God, William, I honestly thought that I was being unselfish. And noble. Why is it that you can see right through me? " She got up and went over to William and kissed him on the forehead. "Thank you, William. I mean it. I’ll call the Council tomorrow and suggest Faith. It may still come down to me, but maybe it won’t have to." She looked at her watch.
"Oh my, it’s late. I’ve got to phone Dawn and make sure she’s back in the room."
"Sure...there’s a phone in my room, so you don’t have to use that grungy office one. Listen, how would you like to come patrollin’ with me tonight? There’s a Fang bar that’s been killin’ off some of its customers. They claim it’s accidental-like, but I’m not so sure. Want to come check it out?"
Buffy’s eyes gleamed. She hadn’t done any slaying in ages. And fang bars were her personal pet peeve, since Riley had developed a fondness for them; "I’ll clear it with Dawn."
She went into the bedroom. She emerged a few minutes later. "Okay. Dawn is back. She received a script from your friend Holly. For the audition tomorrow, so she will be occupied all evening. She’s going to order room service, so I’m free as a bird." She felt oddly free, too, as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
"I’ve got to change. Then I’ve got to eat. I’ll buy you a burger or something when we leave. Okay?"
When William emerged from his room a few minutes later, Buffy couldn’t believe her eyes. She had grown so used to William, that seeing Spike was a shock to her nervous system. Even his hair was slicked back removing all softness from his face, and emphasizing his sharp cheekbones, and eyebrow scar. As they passed through the office on the way out, William grabbed his trademark black duster. The transformation complete, Buffy and Spike went out into the night.