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Something Borrowed
by spikeNdru
April 27,2005
Summary: Willow's spell from Something Blue pairs Spike with Harmony instead of with Buffy. Harmony has always wanted to fit in and to be appreciated. How would her un-life have been different if Spike believed he cared about her? How would Spike's?
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. I'm just borrowing them.
Premise: Written for The Divergent Paths Fanfic Challenge, based on the premise from The Family Man. The challenge is to write a story based on the idea of a character being thrust into the path not taken, working within the parameters of your fandom's canon.
Assignment: Spike/Harmony~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Prologue
Willow turned to look at Buffy. “I mean, I'm going through something. I just don't see why he was getting down on me!”
Buffy tried to reassure her. “Giles just worries. Spells can be dangerous. It doesn't mean he thinks you're a bad witch.”
“I am a bad witch!”
“No, you're a good witch.”
“I'm not kidding anyone. If I had any real power, I could have made Oz stay with me.”
She was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. She hoped Buffy would just ignore it, but Buffy reached for the receiver.
“Hello? Uhhh . . . I'll be right there.” Buffy hung up the phone and shrugged. “Spike escaped.”
“And you're going? Now?”
“Sorry. Duty thing.”
“Well, I mean, what's the rush? Spike can't hurt anyone, right? And I figured since I'm kinda grievey, we could, uh . . . you know, have a girls night.”
Buffy was already putting on her jacket, preparing to leave.
“Will, I can't hang out with you until I get Spike back to Giles—you know that. I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
“I don't see the big. He's probably back with Harmony. Where else is he gonna go?”
Willow sighed as the door closed behind Buffy. She was now holding a conversation with herself.
“I mean, I'm going through something. You'd think every once in awhile Buffy could make best friends a priority. Spike's probably with Harmony right now, happy as a clam, making lame plans for an un-life together and he's forgotten all about wanting to kill Buffy!”
***********************************Dialogue from Something Blue by Tracey Forbes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
SpikeSpike looked at Harmony as she wiggled her fingers 'bye-bye' and left the lair. The scathing comment he had been about to make died on his lips. Harmony was . . . glowing! She was beautiful and effervescent and enthusiastic. Definitely enthusiastic. And, yeah, maybe she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but what she lacked in brain power, she made up for by her . . . enthusiasm. He had been missing the fun in his un-life! Why hadn't he noticed that before? His relationship with Dru had been a lot of things but, in all honesty, he couldn't really say 'fun' was one of them.
And then she left him and everything else started to go wrong. It wasn't enough that the soddin' soldier-boys put a bleedin' chip in his bloody head—oh no! The Slayer and her friends thought they could chain him up like a bloody housepet! His un-life had gone from uncomfortable to unbearable. But now—now he was back where he belonged. With this adorable woman who loved him. And he was happy as a clam!
Were clams really that happy? He couldn't imagine what they had to be happy about—just sitting around, hiding in their shells, waiting to be caught and eaten. Come to think of it, that had been his recent existence, but now . . . things were very different. He had a new chance—a fresh start—and he was back where he belonged!
Spike dropped into his favorite chair and threw his leg over the chair arm. He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back with a satisfied smile.
Harmony entered the lair clutching a large shopping bag.
“Blondie Bear? I brought lunch!”
He tilted his head and looked at her through the screen of his eyelashes. That particular look always made her melt. He lowered his voice to a smoky, sexy register.
“And what do you have for your Blondie Bear, my little Goldilocks?”
A brief shudder passed over him at the triteness of his remark, but it made her happy and that was what was important—making Harmony happy.
She giggled. “They were having a blood drive at the hospital so I got take-out.”
Harmony up-ended the bag and plastic bags of blood spilled out. “It's fresh and still warm. Nothing but the best for my Platinum Baby!”
Spike slowly reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his lap. He kissed her thoroughly.
“Oh, Spikey . . .”
Harmony
Harmony stretched drowsily. Spike was lying on his stomach and he looked so sweet and . . . pretty . . . when he was asleep. Harmony felt a little flutter in her stomach. It couldn't be her heart—her heart didn't beat any longer. She sighed. She had never had any grand plans for after graduation. She wasn't smart like Aura, who had gotten accepted at Stanford and was planning to go on to law school. She wasn't confident like Cordy, who was going to be a famous actress. If she'd thought about it at all, she figured she'd probably get a job of some kind, buy pretty clothes, go on dates until she found the right guy—the usual thing. She certainly hadn't counted on living the rest of her life un-dead.
When Cordy had first told them the plans for graduation, she'd been scared. Her parents had planned to take her to Hawaii as a graduation present and she'd done her darndest to talk them into going a few days early—to beat the rush—and skip the ceremony entirely, but it hadn't worked. Her parents were so proud of her and they said there was no way they were going to miss seeing her get her diploma. Her dad got out the video camera and her mom bought a new 35mm with a telephoto lens and she had just gone along with things . . . like she usually did. It was easier to just go along with what other people expected of her.
She'd also gone along with the plans to fight back. She'd felt a real sense of importance—of solidarity—with the entire Class of '99. She fit in. They were all in this together—the popular kids and the jocks and the nerds and the freaks—they were all teaming up to save the world. They were special.
But then the Mayor had turned into a giant snake and she was just plain terrified. He ate Principal Snyder and, okay, that was kinda cool, but then the sun went out and everybody was screaming and she tried to run . . . and then she woke up in a really grody cave with bats and rats and spiderwebs and other ucky stuff. And there were four strange guys that were looking at her like she was dessert; so she ran.
She ran faster than she'd ever run and then the thirst hit her and she knew. She knew she wouldn't be going to Hawaii and she wouldn't be getting a tan or a job or spending the summer in France. Nothing would ever be the same now that she was a creature of the night.
The problem was, she didn't feel like a creature of the night—she still felt like Harmony. But there were some pluses. She didn't have to worry about explaining to Daddy that she'd maxed out her cards and gone way over her clothing budget again. She could pick out whatever she wanted and just eat the salesclerk! The downside was her new social circle didn't know the difference between Prada and Wal-Mart and didn't care. Shelia wouldn't know good taste if it bit her in the butt!
And the dating situation was hopeless! She wouldn't have given these guys the time of day when they were alive; being dead certainly didn't improve their desirability—especially in the areas of hygiene and fashion sense. Except in the, you know, sense of making it worse. It's called toothpaste and deodorant, people—use it! Being dead is no excuse to let yourself go!
And then Spikey had come back to town. He was so different from the creepazoids she'd been forced to hang with . . . he was cool and dangerous and sexy and he smelled so good—and he noticed her, and she thought she'd finally found what she'd been looking for.
But all he cared about was that stupid gem and he was mean to her and he staked her and he left.
Harmony ran her hand down the cool, satiny skin of his back. But now he was back—and he needed her. The government had done something to his brain and he wasn't so high and mighty any more.
She dropped a kiss on his shoulder and then snuggled up against him. He needed her and he was finally starting to appreciate her. Things were going to be okay now. Her eyes closed, and with a happy smile, she slept.
Spike
Spike awakened with a smile on his face. He realized that he was happy. When was the last time he had been happy? Bloody hell! He couldn't even remember. He could remember gleeful—a nice bit of mayhem always made him feel gleeful. He could remember ecstatic, excited, fulfilled . . . he'd felt fulfilled when he had managed to pull off Dru's cure, in spite of incompetent minions, the Order of Taraka bollixing things up, and the appearance of not one, but two—count 'em—two Slayers! But happy? Hadn't been on his dance card for quite some time.
He heard soft little snores coming from under the lump of covers and smiled again. Harmony didn't need to breathe any more than he did, but, like him, she did it automatically. Made them both more human-like. He remembered silence—dead silence. Angelus and Darla never breathed, unless they needed to take in air to talk. Spike remembered times when Angelus was angry—no one could do ice-cold anger better than Angelus—and Darla was in a snit about something or other, and they didn't speak for days. Coulda heard a pin drop—onto a Turkish carpet—during those times.
Spike liked to breathe—especially while fucking or fighting—but during the actual day-to-day living his un-life, too. He liked to eat and drink beverages with actual names, rather than simply A, B or O. He liked Harmony's excitement when he'd take her to the Espresso Pump and she'd spend five minutes deciding what to order because it mattered to her. She'd bite her lip in that adorable way she had and try to decide if this particular night she was in the mood for cinnamon-hazelnut or mocha. Dru would give him that bug-under-a-microscope stare if he even suggested going out for coffee—an' then she'd eat the waitress before he could give her his order and they'd have to leave.
Yeah, this was the life! Here with his little crème brulee. He slipped an arm under the covers and stroked her hip. Still half-asleep, she turned and nuzzled her face into his chest. Her soft breaths across his skin aroused him.
“Oh, Blondie Bear! I love you whole bunches!”
Could it get any better than this?
Harmony
Harmony sniffed. A tantalizing aroma had permeated her consciousness and brought her awake. Without opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, drawing in the scent. Mmmm . . . low-fat, half-caf, caramel mochachino with extra whipped cream. Heaven!
She sat up, pushed back her wild tangle of long blonde hair and reached for the cup on the nightstand. She took a sip and her eyes half closed in near orgasmic pleasure.
“You're so good to me, Spikey.”
“Nothin' but the best for m' lit'le crème brulee.”
He must have gone out as soon as the sun set to get the coffee to surprise her. Spike had really changed! Oh, sure, he was still hot and sexy and snarky, but now he was romantic in a way she had never seen before. He used to be nasty and demanding and short-tempered and mean, and he'd look at her sometimes like she was a . . . bug or something, and not a human being with hopes and fears and feelings like everybody else.
She wondered what had changed him. Was it the chip or whatever the military had put into his head? Or, had she just never seen this side of him before? Had he been this way with Drudzilla? Of course he had. He'd been like totally in love with that crazy bitch and she'd never appreciated him! She'd used him and took and took and took until there was nothing left—and then she'd left him. It was only natural that Blondie Bear would hide his feelings under a veneer of sarcasm and nastiness—he'd been afraid of getting hurt again. It made perfect sense.
But now, things were different. Now he could see how much she loved him, and she'd never hurt him, so now he didn't have to pretend to be all big and bad and could let her see the real Spike. Maybe this meant he was finally over Drudzilla and was open to a real relationship with a woman who loved him?
And she'd changed, too. She'd been really petty and self-absorbed and didn't care about anyone else's feelings except for how they affected her when she was in high school. But then she got killed and sired and fell for Spike and he was mean and left her and she'd started reading all those self-help books and making positive changes in her life . . .
Maybe they'd both reached a point where they could be good for each other?
Spike
Spike ducked into an alley and flattened himself against the wall when he saw the Slayer and Soldier-boy headed his way. With only a whisper of leather, he hunched his shoulders and pulled the coat up over his head so the gleam of his platinum hair wouldn't give him away. He stood motionless and became just a darker shadow blending with all the other shadows. They could even stroll down this very alley, and they'd never see him.
His demon raged at him. Hiding now, are we? Mr. Fists and Fangs, Slayer of Slayers, cowering in a corner? Frightened of the Boogyman? “Shut it! M' not frightened, I'm smart. See, that's th' difference between me and you. You're too bloody stupid to remember that I. Can't. Fight. Humans. Now. An' although he may look like a Neanderthal, th' Slayer's newest conquest is still human. An' the Slayer? She wouldn't even fight me. She'd punch me in th' nose, I'd take a swing at her an' while I was clutchin' m' head in agony, she'd lead me off, like a lamb to slaughter—an' the next thing you know, I'm chained in a bathtub, drinkin' pig's blood out of a novelty mug! No thanks, mate. Got better ways t' spend my un-life!”
Spike had come to the conclusion that if he and Harm did nothing overtly evil, they'd stay off the Slayer's radar. He didn't kid himself—she could find their lair in a heartbeat, if she really wanted to do so. The fact that she hadn't tried meant that she considered him effectively neutralized. And until he found a way to get this soddin' chip out of his head, that's the way he wanted it to stay.
It was no different, really, than when he had laid low across half of Europe to protect Dru after Prague. Dru was too weak to defend herself, and his primary desire was to protect her—get her out of the area where people still believed in vampires, without attracting undue notice.
Spike had no fear of the Slayer. He wasn't a coward; he was a tactician. When he went out, it'd be in a blaze of glory, and that wasn't an option at present. So, he'd use this time to re-group. To build, instead of destroy.
The Slayer and her pet soldier'd be long gone now. Spike glanced around the alley in which he found himself, and then grinned. Moving further down the alley, he reached up to unscrew the bulb over a service door. His enhanced night vision allowed him to see perfectly well in the dark. He studied the simple burglar alarm and had it disabled in seconds. Picking the lock was no more of a challenge. He slipped into the back room and then dropped to a crouch. With his coat over his head, he stayed below the range of the security cameras until he came to the glass case he wanted. Sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the case, he picked one more lock.
The trays of diamonds were put in the safe every night, but they didn't bother stripping the store of the lesser stones. No matter. Spike wasn't looking for a diamond. He had grown up in a time when colored stones were preferred.
He slid open the glass door at the back of the case and took out a tray. He looked at each ring carefully before selecting an emerald-cut, deep purple amethyst set in gold filigree. He pocketed the ring, rearranging the rest of the tray to cover its loss.
With a smile of satisfaction, he left the store as silently and unnoticed as he'd entered. And Angelus had always said he didn't have any finesse. Ha! Take that, you pillock!
Harmony
Harmony wasn't stupid. Oh, she knew she wasn't a brain, like Willow Rosenberg, but she wasn't as dumb as a lot of people thought she was. In high school, being popular and pretty and dressing well were much better than being smart! And, okay, she didn't always understand what people were talking about, but that's because a lot of people just didn't make any sense.
But Spike was really smart. He was cool-smart though, not geeky-smart like Willow. He just knew a lot of things. Well, duh! He'd like a hundred years to learn things! But now that he was being nice to her and not treating her like she was a . . . cretin . . . He'd called her that once when they first got together. She hadn't known what it meant, but when she looked it up, it made her feel really bad. She wasn't a cretin, and now that he wasn't treating her like one anymore, she decided that she could learn stuff, too.
She could pass for a student, so instead of spending all her time shopping like she used to do, she started going to the U of Sunnydale library for an hour or two each day. There was hardly anyone there at dinner time—after classes and before evening study time—so she haunted the stacks with the same determination she had previously reserved for designer boutique sales.
Shakespeare was really famous, so she had tried to read one of his plays, but she thought she'd better start out with something in English. Or American. Whatever. So she read. She read poetry and history and literature. The day she found herself sitting cross-legged on the floor, tears running down her cheeks over a poem by Maya Angelou because she understood it—she felt it—she knew no one would ever be able to call her stupid again.
Well, yeah, she supposed someone probably could call her stupid, but she wouldn't believe them. She'd know they were wrong.
She'd slipped the book in her purse, and that night she'd read the poem to Spike. He couldn't hide the surprise in his eyes, but he hadn't said anything bad, and the next night, he'd read William Blake to her.
The evening ritual had continued and now they were reading the Harry Potter books to each other every night and it was fun! Of course, she'd never breathe a word to anyone else, but then, all couples had their own private moments they didn't share with anyone else, didn't they?
**********
“Demons! They keep coming! I think we lost the ones that were following us, but they'll be back!” Xander and Anya burst into Giles' apartment.
Giles carefully made his way from the loft, tightly gripping the banister.
“Xander, is that you?”
“Yeah. Me and Anya. There's something weird going on, G-Man! Demons started breaking into the basement and we ran and they've been making a bee-line for us all they way here! Where's Buffy?”
“She, er, went to try to locate Willow.”
Giles had reached the foot of the staircase and was feeling around for the table that would lead him in the direction of the sofa. Anya waved her hand in front of Giles' face and got no reaction.
“Are you blind?” she asked.
“What? Giles is blind?” Xander came over to stare closely at Giles and then helped him to the couch.“How did that happen?”
“My eyesight has been fading for over a week. I had feared it may be something physical, but I kept putting off going to a doctor because I had hoped it would get better. Today I discovered I wasn't able to see anything and I remembered Willow telling me I didn't understand her pain . . . I didn't see anything, so Buffy's gone to find her to see if perhaps she'd done a spell of some kind.”
“Willow!” Anya broke in. “She said you were a demon magnet!”
Xander sank down beside Giles on the couch. “Don't worry, Giles, we'll get this all figured out.” His hand hovered over Giles' arm; he was planning to pat it for comfort, but then thought better of the impulse.
Anya picked up the phone to call the dorm.
Buffy was just on her way out of the door, having ascertained Willow wasn't there, when the phone rang. She snatched it up.
“Buffy, Giles is blind and Xander is a demon magnet and we think Willow did some kind of spell.”
“Stay right where you are! I'll find her.”
**********
Spike and Harmony were in bed, satiated and relaxing in the afterglow. Spike felt . . . happy as a clam. He had loved Dru with every fiber of his being, but her first allegiance had always been to Angelus. If he hadn't known that before, it was certainly brought home to him when Angelus had come back to them in the factory while he was still recuperating. Maybe it was the additional infusion of sire's blood that did it, but things were never the same between Dru and him after that.
Maybe it was time to let go of the past and look toward the future with a woman who wanted him for himself—chip and all—and who wasn't all twisted with Daddy issues?
Spike reached for his pants, lying on the floor beside the bed. His fingers had closed over the amethyst ring when he felt a shudder and a sort of—pulling—at his insides. A spell, then. Someone had put the mojo on him—to keep him out the the Slayer's way, p'hraps? He clutched the ring tighter and the edge of the stone bit into his hand.
He looked at Harmony, glowing with love, and he smiled. Hocus pocus was gone and he was back to havin' free will. That meant he could decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his un-life. He had a choice between paths. He grinned. Havin' a choice is good, innit?
The End
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