Chapter 6: Out Damned Spot
 

"They say that "time assuages,"—/Time never did assuage;/An actual suffering strengthens,/As sinews do, with age./Time is a test of trouble,/But not a remedy./If such it prove, it prove too/There was no malady." ~Emily Dickinson
 

Spike was feeling oddly—happy. Not that he was usually depressed, but there was always the underlying sense of guilt, an almost anhedonic sense about the day that cast a pall over everything. It was, in fact, so constant that its absence cast everything into sharp focus. The feel of Buffy's body as he woke, the play of light over his skin—he just felt bloody good.

More than that, he felt absolutely invincible.

There was no fear—no more overwhelming sense of his own mortality. Spike felt young and alive and incredibly happy to be human, more than he'd ever thought possible.

He even felt good enough for a quick morning shag with the Slayer, and went off to work whistling. Opening the gallery was almost fun, and he greeted Joyce with a smile and a peck on the cheek when she came in a couple hours later. "Well, you're in a good mood today."

"I am," Spike agreed. "'m feelin' downright chipper."

Joyce sighed, returning his smile weakly. "Do you think you have any 'chipper' to spare?" she asked.

Spike frowned. "You feelin' a bit down, luv?"

"Just tired," she said. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'll be glad when Buffy is back in the dorms."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Girls a bit testy with each other, are they? Would've thought with the send-off I gave her, Buffy would have been on the relaxed side."

Joyce gave him a sharp glance. She didn't find his innuendo offensive exactly, but it was a bit surprising. Spike was usually a little more reserved when talking about his relationship with Buffy in her presence.

Spike saw her look and gave her an impish grin. "Sorry, mum. That was a bit raw."

"It was," she agreed, but found a smile pull at her lips. It was difficult to stay angry with Spike for long. It was like trying to be mad at Dennis the Menace. "You're a scamp," Joyce finally said, shaking her head, and trying not to laugh.

"An' that's why you love me," he insisted. "'m off to do inventory. Would you mind if I took off a bit early today? Got some errands I need to do."

"No, not at all," Joyce replied, watching him as he retreated back into the office. There was something different about Spike today, off. It wasn't bad, it was just—she sighed, rubbing her forehead. She was picking things apart too much. Everyone was allowed to have a good day once in a while.

She thought of Giles' invitation over to his place for dinner later this week and smiled. Even she was allowed to have a good day. She just had to remember to ask Spike or Buffy to look after Dawn.

Though, if Spike was still feeling this good, she'd have to warn him to watch his tongue.

~~~~~

He leaned against the brick wall as though he were the only thing holding it up—as though it were the only thing keeping him together. It hadn't been this bad before, Spike was sure of it. Even in the Initiative, things hadn't hurt this much.

His heart hurt. His soul hurt. He felt like he was drowning. He wanted Buffy, and he was deathly afraid of her rejection when she saw him like this. He had to be strong for her. That's what she loved about him. That's what everyone loved about him. Spike was strong.

(But he wasn't, not really. No one knew how weak he was.)

He whimpered, waiting, unable to do anything but follow directions and hope that Tara would arrive soon. She would fix it; she would understand. He didn't know why, but he was sure of it.

She had to fix him before he saw Buffy again, so the Slayer wouldn't see him like this.

~~~~~

Willow was seriously puzzled by Xander's phone call, but she grabbed Tara, and they headed over to the Espresso Pump to locate Spike. The ex-vampire was around the side of the building, next to the payphone, hugging himself tightly and looking as though he were about to burst into tears at any moment. The two girls exchanged a look and hurried over to him.

"Hey, Spike," Willow said gently. "You okay?"

"'m fine," he mumbled, inching away slightly.

Tara, who had a better grip on how to deal with crazy—or even slightly crazy—people, moved to flank him, though not so noticeably that he'd be scared. "Spike, you want to tell us what happened? Where's Xander?"

"Left," he said shortly. "He had to follow himself."

Tara glanced over at Willow, seriously concerned, and then gazed at Spike, her blue-hazel eyes widening. "Willow, he's hurt really badly."

Willow frowned. She could see scratches on his hands, and some of the skin looked raw, but other than that he seemed fine. He still had the bruise on one cheek from the vampire attack, and the cut on his cheek from the night before, but Willow was pretty sure that wasn't what Tara was referring to. "What do you see, sweetie?"

"Something's happened," she said. "His aura is completely disjointed. It's like he's not completely there."

Willow's eyes widened in alarm. "But he was fine last night! Buffy was going to walk him home."

"I think we should call her," Tara said firmly. "But we need to get Spike back to a safe place right now."

Between the two of them, they managed to get Spike back to Tara's room. The blonde witch took charge of Spike as Willow called Buffy's house. As Tara wrapped a blanket around Spike's shoulders, and fixed him a cup of tea, Willow listened to the phone ring. "Darn," she muttered. "No one's picking up."

"Try Giles," Tara aid,an uncharacteristic confidence in her voice. "Maybe he can help."

Willow's eyes widened. "Or maybe it's an aftereffect of Spike getting hit by that blast. It doesn't make any sense, though. Xander sounded fine on the phone, and he got hit too."

Tara turned to Spike, who was taking small, desperate sips of tea, as though he was ready to fall apart any second and the hot liquid was the only thing holding him together. "Spike, can you tell me what happened last night?"

He shook his head. "Got hit. Stayed with Xander." He whimpered. "'s never been this bad before, Glinda. Not even at the beginning. Thought I was better."

"You are better, sweetie," she assured him. "We're going to fix this." Something he said made her frown. "Willow? Why don't you call the gallery and let Mrs. Summers know Spike's not coming in. She's probably worried."

Willow winced. "Probably. I can't believe I didn't think about that." She called the gallery as Tara watched with knowing eyes. She had a pretty good idea of what had happened, but she didn't want to say anything until she had proof. "Mrs. Summers? It's Willow."

There was a pause, and then Willow started to explain that Spike was sick and wouldn't be in, but she was interrupted about halfway through. "Wait, Spike came in today? Was he okay?...Oh, well, would you mind putting him on the phone?...He left?...Okay, no, it's probably fine. If you see him, though, I really need to talk to him. I'm at Tara's. Thanks."

Willow turned to look at her girlfriend. "Mrs. Summers said that Spike came in at his usual time this morning in a really good mood." They shared a look. "You know," Willow said slowly, "I really think we need to talk to Giles about this."

They called ahead both to warn Giles that they were coming and to have him start on the research right away. "If Spike was affected, something similar probably happened to Xander too," Willow commented. "It would make more sense than Xander just leaving Spike on his own." She glanced over at the ex-vampire, who was walking in between them. There was an almost frantic look in his eyes, and both girls knew he was deep inside himself—and it wasn't pleasant.

"Yeah," Tara said thoughtfully. "Maybe they both got split in two? Spike did say that he stayed with Xander last night."

"Maybe," Willow replied, smiling a little. "It would definitely be interesting to see how the two Xanders are when one of the Spikes is like this. I wonder what exactly happened?"

~~~~~

Buffy had been in the shower when the phone rang and hadn't wanted to try picking it up. Her mom had already left for the gallery, and Dawn was spending the day with a friend, so Buffy's plans involved pretty much doing nothing. She was caught up on her reading and her homework, Toth was nowhere in sight, and she'd had a night with Spike that she wouldn't soon forget. He was definitely an athlete in bed.

Thinking about the previous night had her forgetting all about hearing the phone, so she never even thought to check the message machine. She probably would have seen the blinking red light sooner or later, but the doorbell rang just as she was putting the finishing touches on her hair.

The sight of Spike was enough to put a smile on her face. "Hey, luv."

"Aren't you done at the gallery a little early?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. "Decided to play hooky. Your mum can handle things for the rest of the afternoon."

"Is that right? So what are you doing here?" Buffy asked, knowing very well what his goal probably was. The glint in his eyes was clue enough.

Spike's smile grew wider. "Thought we could spend some quality time together," he replied. "Maybe catch a movie, eat popcorn, neck in the back."

"As long as it includes lots of necking," Buffy replied, grabbing her purse and heading out the door, with no thought of Toth or of the message on the answering machine.

~~~~~

Spike could hear their voices, and he knew they were talking about him, knew he should be paying attention so that he could help as much as possible, but it was so hard. All he could see was blood.

His mother's—he had killed his mother.

Drusilla had been there. She'd wanted to be there, had encouraged him to cut ties with his humanity once and for all. He had turned her to keep his mother with him; Spike had wanted to be hers forever, and then he killed her.

All he could see was his mother's glowing eyes and the feeling of her dust drifting over him. He'd damned her; he had damned himself.

~~~~~

"It's called a ferula gemina," Giles said, showing them the pertinent page in the book. "As far as I can tell, Toth was planning on using his rod device to split the Slayer into two halves—one with all the characteristics of Buffy Summers, and one with all the characteristics of the Slayer."

"So Spike got split into two people too," Willow said, glancing over at Spike. "Why is he so—"

"Guilty?" Tara asked softly, completing Willow's thought. "That's a part of him all the time, but normally the other parts of his personality can control it."

Giles nodded. "What we've got is the psychologically weaker half of Spike. The stronger half is the one Buffy walked home last night, and I'd be willing to bet we can say the same thing for Xander if he was also affected, as it seems he was."

"But where is Xander?" Willow asked. "It's not like him to call up, say 'Hey, Spike's in trouble,' and then just disappear."

Giles frowned, and then went over to sit next to Spike on the couch. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "William, I know this must be overwhelming right now, but we need your help. Do you know where Xander went?"

Spike focused on Giles with difficulty. "He followed himself."

"He got distracted," the ex-Watcher muttered. "Which would certainly indicate that he is the weaker half. I don't know where he'd be, however."

"Well, if he followed himself, logically he'd go to work," Willow said hopefully. "Once he figures out something crazy is going on, he'll show up, though. I mean, it's Xander."

Giles pursed his lips. "Yes, but what about Spike?" He cast a doubtful look at the shaken man on his couch. "I hate to say it, but Xander can probably take care of himself—both halves—but I can't say the same for Spike. And if anything should happen to either of them, they both die."

"The other Spike would be with Buffy," Tara said. "We should try and find her."

Giles hesitated. "Perhaps, although she was supposed to be coming by in a bit for training. With any luck, she'll show up before long with Spike in tow."

~~~~~

Spike knew he should be doing something to help, something to help himself, but he was buried under the weight of his own guilt. Just breathing was difficult; hanging onto his sanity even worse. For a moment he'd thought he could pull himself out of it as Giles had asked his questions, but it was no good. He was slipping under.

Things hadn't even been this bad his first few days in the Initiative holding cell, when he truly had been mad. He had a bit more practice now, keeping things in check, but it seemed every control, every wall he'd carefully constructed, had disintegrated with a blast from that rod.

The temptation to slip out from under the eyes of his watchers was overwhelming—just find a nice cliff and hurl himself down. He wanted—

"Spike." Her voice was insistent, and she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Look at me."

He forced himself to meet Glinda's eyes. Her face was soft with compassion. "It's going to be fine. Just hang on for a while longer, and then we'll put you back together again."

Her empathy almost hurt more than anger or disgust would have. "Don't be kind," he pleaded softly. "Please, don't be kind to me. 'm a monster."

"You're no more a monster than I am, remember?" Tara asked, speaking softly so the others wouldn't hear her. "You showed me that." She drew the trembling figure into her arms and held him as he wept, praying silently that Buffy would arrive with the other Spike soon.

~~~~~

Xander—the scruffy one—was having a bad time of it. Not only was he rapidly discovering that this other, evil Xander was far more capable of living his own life than he was, but he also had a nagging sense of guilt over leaving Spike in the first place. The other man had been in far worse shape than he was.

He ducked behind the corner of a building as his double walked into the apartment building he'd been looking at the other day. What on earth was he doing there? Was this double now taking over the apartment he wanted as well?

Xander snuck up to the third floor, creeping down the hallway and listening at the door. He couldn't believe it when the agent called him "Mr. Harris." He had an even harder time believing it when she hit on him. No one ever hit on him—and no one ever called him "mister."

He had to hide himself around the corner again when the agent came out, and then crept back down the hall, his curiosity getting the better of him. There was a small part of his brain that warned him that he really should find Buffy before his double did. It was the same small voice that triggered his guilt when he thought about leaving Spike alone for Willow to find.

Scruffy-Xander was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't even hear the door to the apartment opening. It was hard to say which one of them was more surprised to see the other. Even though Scruffy-Xander had been following himself around all day, it was still a bit of a shock to come face to face with—well, himself.

Not allowing himself to think about it, Scruffy-Xander launched himself at his better-groomed half. Suave-Xander seemed to have gotten all the reflexes, however, and he threw Scruffy-Xander to the floor, punching him in the nose as soon as he got up again. "You can't do this to me! I won't let you get away with this!" Scruffy-Xander called after his doppelganger as he beat a hasty retreat.

Scruffy-Xander picked himself off the ground for what was surely the hundredth time that day. "I need Buffy," he groaned.

~~~~

Buffy wandered out of the movie theater, hand in hand with Spike. She wasn't sure if the movie had been any good or not, as she'd spent the bulk of it lip-locked with her boyfriend. "Not that I want the fun to end, but we should head over to Giles'. We were supposed to talk about hunting down Toth."

Spike brought their entwined hands up and kissed the back of hers. "Wish we could have a night off, luv. Maybe we should think about taking a trip, a weekend or somethin', just the two of us."

Buffy smiled and sighed. "I wish. Knowing my luck, the Hellmouth would blow up right when I started to plan something like that." Seeing his disappointed expression, she relented slightly. "But it never hurts to plan."

They walked to the Watcher's apartment, content just with the other's company. Spike couldn't remember being this happy. The entire day he'd felt really, really good—so guilt-free, in fact, that he had stopped to check to see if he wasn't tempted to kill someone. No urges to kill were present, but he honestly couldn't remember being this happy and being human. It was like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Buffy was ready just to walk into Giles' apartment when they arrived, but Spike tugged her back and reached past her to knock on the door with an amused smile. "Got to give the man warning, pet. You never know who he's going to be entertaining."

Buffy frowned at him. "I really hope you're not insinuating what I think you're insinuating. Because the thought of either my mom or Giles having a sex life is nauseating enough. To think of them together is enough to prevent me from sleeping for a week."

Spike might have had a smart-assed remark to make in return, but Giles opened the door, giving both of them relieved looks. "Oh thank heavens," he said. "I was about to have Willow do a locator spell."

He stepped aside to let them enter as Spike and Buffy both gave him strange looks. "We went out to the movies, Giles," Buffy said. "It's not like we were gone..." She trailed off when she saw the figure huddled on the couch next to Tara. "What—"

"That's what was concerning me," Giles said. "Apparently, the rod that Toth was firing at you was a ferula gemina. It was meant to split you into your Slayer-self and your Buffy-self. When it hit Spike and Xander, we believe it split the two of them."

Spike was watching himself, realizing with a sinking feeling exactly where all that guilt had gone. That was the problem—it wasn't gone. It was sitting right in front of him. Buffy's voice pulled him out of his horrified silence. "Then what did it do to Spike and Xander?"

"It distilled the separate parts of their personalities into two separate bodies—one made up of strengths, the other of weaknesses. In Spike's case—"

"That's my guilt, an' the fear," Spike said quietly. "Bloody hell. I thought—I just thought it was a bloody good day. I never—" He looked at Giles. "What happens if we don't go back together?"

"You can't not return to your conjoined state," Giles said gently. "Should anything happen to one half, the other half cannot survive." He watched as Buffy went over to kneel in front of the man on the couch. "Besides," Giles said in a low voice, "would you leave yourself like that? Would you leave anyone like that?"

Spike shook his head, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. The guilt was his to bear, and he needed everything he was to deal with it. He watched as Buffy tried to talk to his other half, and the weak Spike pulled back from her touch, muttering about being unclean.

"Do we know where Xander is?" Buffy asked in a flat voice.

Giles shook his head. "One of the Xanders was with Spike this morning at the dump. Apparently, he called Willow from a payphone and then had her pick Spike up while he followed himself." The ex-Watcher sighed. "You know, life is quite confusing enough without adding in identical twins to the mix. I thought it best if we put Spike back together first and then began looking for Xander."

Buffy nodded. She gave the strong Spike an apologetic look. "I think Giles is right."

He nodded stiffly. "Long as we can get it done quick-like."

Xander came in through the door just then, not bothering to announce his presence. "I've got an evil twin."

The others exchanged looks. "He's not evil," Willow said. "And he's you. We'll explain it on the way to the Magic Box."

Xander frowned. "Wait a sec. I've got an evil twin running around, and you're just going to—" He stopped as he realized he was in the presence of two Spikes. "There are—"

"Two Spikes," Giles finished. "Yes, Xander, just as there are two of you, but it is imperative we put Spike back together as quickly as possible. You'll just have to wait to get your explanation." Giles paused. "By the way, what did you do with the other Xander?"

~~~~~

Buffy watched as Tara got Spike settled in one of the chairs at the table in the Magic Box. He wouldn't let her touch him; he kept insisting that he wasn't worthy. The other Spike—the one she'd spent both night and day with—had retreated into the back of the store as Giles set up the pentagram. Xander was watching everything from the stairs with an intensity Buffy thought felt odd. It was Xander—and yet it wasn't, just as Spike was and wasn't.

She headed off to the back of the shop to find one half of her boyfriend, finding him standing with his hands in his pockets. They'd had to stop by his apartment on the way over so he could change back into his clothing of the previous night, and Buffy could see the tension in his shoulders.

"Spike?"

"I don't want to go back," he admitted in a low voice. "I know I have to, but—"

She came up next to him, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. "It's nice being guilt-free, huh?"

He shook his head. "It was more than that, luv. I was guilt-free as a vampire, an' it's a different feelin' entirely. 's almost like I got my innocence back, like 've got a soddin' clean slate."

Buffy winced at the raw pain in his tone. "Why didn't you tell me it was that bad, Spike?"

"What was there to tell?" he asked. "I could tell you that 'm still miserable half the time an' the happy face was a mask, but what good would that do you, or me?"

She gave his arm a little shake. "It would let me know what's going on with you, stupid. Maybe I couldn't help, but I could just be there. That's something, isn't it?"

"You're already there, luv," Spike replied softly. "You, an' Joyce, an' Dawn, an' the others. If I lost that, I think I'd go crazy. 's what helps me get by each day. Didn't think I needed to tell anyone about it on top of everythin'."

Buffy sighed. "Just promise me you'll let me know when you're having a bad day, okay?" she asked. "I want to help. Maybe I can give you a little extra TLC," she added with a sly smile.

"How could I resist an offer like that?" Spike asked. Giles's voice called from the front, letting them know they were ready.

Spike followed Buffy back up to the front reluctantly, allowing Willow to direct him to stand in the pentagram. "Okay, side by side," she said, as Tara positioned the other Spike, who was nearly catatonic at this point. "Close your eyes."

Both Spikes did as directed. "Let the spell be ended."

Spike knew immediately that Willow's brief incantation had worked. The wave of relief that he felt was nearly as great as the descending grief and guilt. He staggered slightly under the load of both at once, and Buffy hurried to his side to steady him. "You okay?"

"I'm good," he mumbled, then pulled himself up straight, feeling the mask descend again like an old friend. "Let's find this other Xander, shall we?"

~~~~~

Finding the other Xander proved to be easier than they thought. Once Suave-Xander explained that he had meant to meet up with Anya at the new apartment, they all headed over, thinking that Scruffy-Xander might manage to find his way there, especially as that was where the two halves had run into one another in the first place.

Explaining to Scruffy-Xander, before he shot his other half, that he did not have an evil twin, nor had Toth taken his shape, was a different story altogether. Spike finally stepped in, tired and irritable and not in the mood for long, drawn-out explanations. "Give me the gun," he insisted.

"But—" Scruffy-Xander protested. "He's hypnotizing people."

"No, he's not. I got split too, so I know what 'm talkin' about," Spike said shortly. "Gun. Now."

Scruffy-Xander reluctantly handed over the gun just as Toth burst through the door, leveling his ferula gemina at Buffy. "Bugger this," Spike snarled as Buffy leapt out of the way and Toth put a scorch mark in the carpeting. "Bloody bastard." He fired two rounds, hitting Toth square in the chest and staggering him. Buffy used the distraction to snap the demon's neck.

The Slayer looked over at Spike with a raised eyebrow. "That's a really good way to get the cops called."

"I don't care," Spike said, his tone surly. "'m tired of gettin' messed with."

Buffy sighed. "Okay, Xander-z, Anya, get out of here and head on back to the Magic Box. Spike and I will get rid of the body and meet you back there. Oh, and Xander's going to have to change back into the clothes he was wearing last night." She paused, looking from one to the other. "You both are going to have to be wearing the same clothes, I mean." She sighed. "I'm with Giles. This whole thing is way too confusing."

~~~~~

The next day, Spike was quiet and distant with everyone, and Buffy let him be. She thought he might need the time alone. On the other hand, she did want to see Tara, since the blonde witch seemed to know Spike's emotional state better than anyone. They met up on campus at the Grotto, and both sat down with their drinks. "How is he really, Tara?" Buffy asked. "I don't want you to spill any secrets, but I get the feeling he's hiding something from me."

Tara looked down into her herbal tea. "He's not hiding anything, Buffy. It's more that it's a struggle he feels he has to go through on his own."

"But—"

The other woman anticipated Buffy's protests. "I don't know if you could help him. He's dealing with a lot of guilt right now, and a lot of questions about himself and his future. It's not unusual for a man his age, but it's worse for Spike because he has over a hundred years of experience behind him. He looks like a man in his mid-twenties, but he doesn't feel it, and he's got the weight of his past to deal with too."

Buffy sighed. "But he's talking to you about it." It was a statement, not a question, and for some reason she couldn't feel jealous of the other woman. Not only was Tara gay, and with Willow, but she had a feeling that Spike would feel more comfortable talking to her about his struggles than anyone else. The Slayer wasn't sure why, but she was suddenly certain that she would feel more comfortable telling Tara her deepest, darkest secrets.

Tara shrugged. "Not really. A little, maybe. It's just that we—we understand each other. I couldn't even tell you why, but we do."

Buffy sighed, considering her answer. "As long as someone does. Do you—do you think there's anything I should do?"

"Just spend time with him," Tara advised. "Ask him questions. Now that he knows that you know a little of what he's kept hidden, maybe it'll be easier for him to talk. Other than that, I'm not sure there's anything you can do."

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. She had been so caught up in her own training with Giles, and her own struggle with finding out what it meant to be the Slayer, she hadn't given much thought to Spike's struggles. Things had seemed okay between the two of them, and she'd let it go at that. Maybe it was time she was more deliberate in her attempts to talk to him, that she spent more time finding out what made him tick. Before the last few days, she would have sworn that she knew Spike like the back of her hand. Now, she wasn't so sure.

She had forgotten that there was so much more to Spike than met the eye. It was time she went looking for deeper waters.

~~~~~

Buffy carefully carried two cups of hot chocolate outside to the back porch. "Hey. Mom stocked up on the little marshmallows for you."

"Ta, luv," Spike said quietly.

Buffy watched him, her sharp gaze hidden by half-closed lids. He'd been subdued since Willow had put his two halves back together, and not even the passage of time had helped. It had been a few days, and he still wasn't saying much. Even Joyce had commented on his mood with some concern, and Dawn was trying to be extra attentive. "Is being back in one piece that bad?"

Spike glanced up at the Slayer, and his face softened slightly. "Yes an' no, pet. The guilt is bad, but it had been so long since I'd been human, I almost thought it was just—"

"Part of being alive?" she suggested when he faltered.

"Somethin' like that," Spike admitted. "Never realized what it would be like to be human an' not have to live with it. An' I never realized how far I'd come."

Buffy leaned up against him. "You have definitely come a long way."

The silence stretched on between them for some time. "Buffy?" Spike finally asked. "Did you like me better..."

"No," Buffy replied in response to his unfinished question. "I did like you. It was like being with you in a really good mood, which was nice. But I love all of you, Spike. I love the part of you that's still swamped with guilt and feels dark, and I love the part of you that's strong enough to handle it. Seeing that other half—the half of you that's still catatonic from the pain of being human—makes me realize how strong you really are. It just makes me respect you for getting out of bed every day."

Spike blinked back tears. Buffy's affirmation was more than he might have hoped for. Even though he needed that part of himself, needed the guilt to remind him, to push him forward, to not allow him to become complacent with this life he'd been given. Spike liked to believe that his intimate association with death helped him to better understand life. He just wasn't sure that Buffy would understand that.

Spike was unprepared for her question. "Do you ever wish you were with Buffy-Buffy?"

"No," he replied softly. "You can't separate the Slayer from Buffy any more than you can separate Spike from William. We're the same, you an' I. We both know what it's like havin' two parts of ourselves that sometimes seem so different, an' are really integral to each other. 's one of the reasons I know you so well. You need bein' the Slayer as much as I need bein' Spike. You need bein' Buffy like I need William. It sets us apart, but maybe it makes us stronger in the end."

"Thank you," Buffy said quietly.

He looked over at her in surprise. "For what, luv?"

"For seeing me."

He smiled. "I could say the same thing, Buffy."

They drank the rest of their hot chocolate in silence, basking in the company of someone who knew them.
 

Chapter 7: Something to Someone
 

"'Cuz I just wanna be something/I just wanna be someone/Someone who stands out in the crowd/Mother would be proud/Something to someone/These days gettin' shorter by the year/Tickin' like a time bomb loud and clear/Faster and faster the whole situation/Fallin' apart, straight from the heart/Then I sing my song/And I'll prove them wrong..." ~Lit, "Something to Someone"

Spike turned back to his stocking, not replying, but the dark circles under his eyes were answer enough for the ex-Watcher. "Spike—"

"'m fine, Rupert," Spike said quickly, interrupting the other man. "I understand that you're concerned, an' Buffy's already talked to me about it. 's just—getting split in two like that didn't do a whole lot for my peace of mind."

He nodded, knowing that Spike needed to work it out in his own time and in his own way. As much as Giles might like to wave a magic wand to remove the burden of Spike's past, he couldn't. Indeed, even if he could, he wasn't certain that he would. The ex-vampire had managed to reach at least a tentative balance between his persona both old and new. Giles had every reason to believe he would be able to do it once again.

Besides, it was sometimes the darkest parts of the soul that gave one necessary strength.

"I do understand, Spike," Giles said, and he really did. "But you do need to take care of yourself."

Spike shrugged. "If I still can't sleep after a while, I'll get Tara to mix somethin' up for me. That girl knows what she's doin'."

"Very well." Giles went back to his inventory list. They worked in silence for a while until Spike spoke up.

"I wanted to ask your advice."

"Alright. What on?"

Spike hesitated, then came over to lean on the counter next to Giles. "It's not that I don't like workin' with Joyce, but it might be time to start thinkin' about the future."

Giles nodded slowly. "I see. What brought this on?"

"Nothin'. Well, nothin' important. 's just, you never know how much time you have. I don't want to drift anymore." Spike wasn't sure his explanation made much sense, but Giles was nodding as though he understood.

"I can see how you might feel that way. Do you know what you want?"

"What I want is for what I do to mean somethin', to be important." Spike sighed. "I don't want to be a hero, Rupert. The world has the Slayer for that, an' Peaches. I'm just a sidekick, but I want a day-job."

Giles regarded him seriously. "You are not 'just' anything, Spike. I don't think you've fully realized that yet. What do you enjoy doing?"

"I don't know," Spike said impatiently. "Anything I knew how to do died with me a long time ago. 've got a lot of knowledge, but Buffy has a Watcher, and knowin' how to kill a demon doesn't pay the bills."

"You enjoy being with Dawn," Giles pointed out. "And I know you're quite good with tutoring her. Have you thought about teaching?"

Spike looked at him incredulously. "Teaching? Don't you mean herding?"

Giles shrugged. "It was just a thought. But that's where I would start—with what you enjoy doing. Figure that out, and you may stumble across something that suits." He watched Spike carefully for the rest of the afternoon as they finished putting the training room together. Xander showed up later to help them complete the remaining tasks, and he and Spike joked like the oldest of friends.

Even in the midst of the good-natured ribbing, however, the thoughtful look never left Spike's eyes. Giles recalled a conversation he'd had with Joyce not long before, centering on the other man. She had been saying how good he was with Dawn, how patient he was in helping the younger girl with her homework. He was even making both English Literature and History interesting. While Dawn did enjoy school, she had told Joyce that Spike made everything seem both exciting and exceptionally clear. "I don't know why our teachers can't explain things the way Spike does."

In spite of the fact that Spike was asking him for advice, Giles knew that the ex-vampire would have to make the decision on his own, and that planting a seed was really the only thing he could do. Giles didn't get another chance to talk to him about it, however, as Anya and Tara soon showed up to help with the finishing touches to the training room in back, among other things.

A couple hours later, the bell above the door jangled and Willow and Buffy came breezing in. "Hey, Giles. Spike." Buffy came over to give him a proper greeting, and Spike met her kiss with enthusiasm.

"How were classes today, luv?"

"Good," Buffy said. "Willow and I actually had a discussion, like, an academic one."

"'Course you did," Spike replied easily. "You're not only tough, you're also smart as a whip. 's one of the things I love about you."

"Will all of you excuse me while I gag?" Xander asked, emerging from the back. "Do you two ever give it a rest?"

"Do you and the ex-demon ever stop shaggin'?" Spike asked, his tone almost sweet.

Buffy snorted with laughter, and there were suspicious laughing-type noises coming from Giles and Willow too. "Sometimes we refrain from sex," Anya said quite seriously. "We do other things, like—"

Whatever Anya had been about to say was muffled by Xander's hand. "Let's just forget about that, shall we?" Whispering loudly, he said, "Ahn, remember what we talked about? The stuff that's not okay to say in front of my friends?"

Willow and Tara sat down at the table, catching up with each other in low voices. Spike tugged on the Slayer's hand. "Come help me in the back?" he suggested. "There's a couple heavy items we lowly mortals could use your help with."

Buffy laughed. "As if you manly men aren't completely capable." She followed anyway, glad that he seemed to be in a good mood. Spike had been so moody lately, so prone to staring off into space and looking glum. Not that she'd ever accuse him of such a thing. The one time she'd suggested he was brooding he'd gotten very affronted and told her never to compare him to Angel again. Buffy hadn't even realized that she was making the comparison.

Spike held open the door for her gallantly, sharing a look with Giles and Xander who were close behind her. "Oh my," Buffy breathed as she got a good look at the new training room. "This is—incredible! Did you guys do this?"

"We all helped," Xander said, pointing at the dummy. "That, I made."

She stared at Spike, who shrugged. "I might have been involved," he admitted.

"Giles! This is great!" Buffy grinned at him. "It's wonderful."

"Well, you needed a space to train," Giles replied. "I'm sure we'll put it to good use. You and Spike both really."

"We could train together!" Buffy said rather enthusiastically. While she knew she'd have to pull her punches, the idea of working out with a sweaty, shirtless Spike was enough to make her mouth dry and her palms sweaty.

Spike looked a bit bashful. "We could. 'f I'm not too far below your level."

Buffy shook her head. "Are you kidding? You've still got the moves, Spike. I've seen you working out with Giles a few times. You might not be a vampire anymore, but you could still probably give me a run for my money."

Her compliment had the unexpected bonus of making Spike turn a bright red. "If you like, Slayer."

"Oh, I like," she replied, the heat in her eyes adding double meaning. "I definitely like."

~~~~~

Spike set up his laptop in the office. It was early, too early to be in to work, really, but he hadn't been able to lie in bed any longer. After their training session and a round of the cemeteries, Buffy had reluctantly gone back to her dorm, explaining that she really did have to get some homework done before she went to bed. His girlfriend couldn't be with him every night, and being alone in his big bed seemed to make sleep even more elusive.

While he knew very well that Buffy would spend every night with him if she knew the truth, he wasn't about to tell her. He hated to think she thought of him as frail.

Opening up the word processor, Spike started typing, just letting the words flow as they would. He couldn't have predicted how quickly his typing skills would come along in just a few weeks, but he'd found putting words to screen therapeutic. Where he'd once composed reams of poetry, Spike now found himself drawn towards the crafting of a story.

He was absorbed in the movement of characters, some of whom bore a passing resemblance to people he'd known in the past. There was truth in the guise of fiction, and Spike lost himself in his own tale.

Of course, just as he was finding his rhythm, the cell phone rang. Half-snarling, Spike picked it up, thinking to check the caller id and then let it go. He frowned when he realized the caller was "Joyce" and answered quickly. "'lo?"

"Spike?" Dawn's voice sounded breathless.

"Niblet? What's up?"

There was a sound that was close to a sob, and his chest tightened. "It's mom. She just—fainted. I didn't know what to do." There was a pause. "She's waking up."

"You both sit tight," he ordered. "I'll be there in a mo." Spike hit the save button and shut the lid to the laptop before grabbing his keys and heading out, locking up behind him. He probably should have put a sign up saying that they weren't going to be open, but he was in too much of a hurry.

By the time he arrived at the Summers' residence, Joyce was seated on the couch, calmly sipping tea. "I'm fine, Spike," she said when he asked.

He glared at her. "You didn't go see the doc, did you?"

"Spike—"

"No," Spike interrupted. "This isn't somethin' to just brush off. 'm takin' you to the hospital." He turned to face Dawn, who was looking relieved that someone else was taking charge. "Niblet, call your sister. If she's not in her dorm room, leave a message an' tell her to meet us at there."

~~~~~

Buffy came rushing into the hospital emergency room, immediately seeing Spike sitting next to Dawn, and talking to a young man in scrubs. "Spike!"

He looked up, smiling in reassurance. "We're fine, Buffy. I was just talkin' to Ben here, tryin' to figure out what's up."

"What is up?" Buffy asked quickly. "Is mom—"

"She's fine," the man Spike had referred to as Ben said. "They're just running some tests on her right now. As I've been explaining to your fiancé, there's no indication of what caused her collapse. It could be anything from a dizzy spell to a virus to low blood sugar."

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy watched as Spike snagged a restless Dawn around the waist, pulling her close in to his chest and eliciting a giggle. With a small smile, Buffy watched as her little sister snuggled up to him like a cat, and Spike rested his chin against the top of her head. She caught Spike's eye and mouthed, "Fiancé?" but he just shrugged in response.

"Do you know when they'll be done? Will mom be able to come home afterwards?" Buffy asked quickly.

Ben smiled reassuringly. "I don't know when they'll be done for sure. I can go check for you, though. I'm sure the doctors will let her go as soon as they're done."

When the intern went off to get the necessary information, Buffy turned to look at Spike with a raised eyebrow, which he met with one of his own. "Was the only way they'd treat me like a member of the family," he explained nonchalantly. "Now that you're here, you can correct that idea if you like."

"Who said I wanted to correct that idea?" Buffy asked. She held up her left hand and wriggled the appropriate finger. "I'm wearing your ring, aren't I?"

Spike smiled, and Buffy could see him relaxing imperceptibly. "Well, long as you're okay with it, pet."

"Totally okay." She smiled at him. "Besides, you really are a member of the family, with or without the ring."

~~~~~

Spike handed Joyce a cup of tea. "An' that's a proper cuppa, mum. None of that nasty bagged stuff you Americans seem to favor."

She smiled at him, long used to the tirades against American-made tea from both him and Giles. "Thank you, William."

"Not a problem," he assured her. "You know I'll look after the gallery for as long as you need, yeah? You do as little or as much as you want."

Joyce patted his hand. "There's really no need to worry, Spike. I'll be fine, I'm sure."

He shook his head. "Maybe so, but if you're feelin' poorly, it's my job to look after you. 's like a sacred duty."

"You do too much," Joyce said quietly, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "You shouldn't take so much on."

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. "'s not too much if it's on a voluntary basis. An' someone has to look after the gallery if you're not feelin' well."

"Just like someone has to help Rupert out with the Magic Box and someone has to help Buffy patrol and help Dawn with her homework?" Joyce patted his cheek fondly. "I worry about you."

"It's mutual," he replied, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

Buffy, Willow, and Dawn came into the room a few minutes later. "Okay, Mom," Buffy said. "You need to rest. Spike and I have to patrol, but I called Giles, and he said he was coming over to check on you and keep you company in a little while. And Willow will be around until he gets here."

"I don't need a babysitter," Joyce protested.

Willow looked alarmed. "I'm not a babysitter! I'm here to help Dawnie with her math homework. I promised, since Spike already went over the history and English."

Joyce looked skeptical, but she decided to take their explanations at face value. Besides, she hadn't missed the look of relief on her youngest daughter's face when Willow said she was going to be staying. Her collapse earlier had scared the girl quite a bit.

"Well then," Joyce replied. "You two be careful."

~~~~~

"She'll be fine, luv," Spike said, both for his own benefit as well as the Slayer's.

"Will she?" Buffy replied quietly. "I don't know, Spike. It's so weird to see her sick like this. I mean, Mom's always the one that takes care of us when we're sick. I don't remember her even having a cold in forever."

Spike wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The evening had been quiet for the most part, and while they were both keeping an eye out for danger, they were also simply enjoying each other's company and the balmy night air. "It might take some time, luv, but the docs'll figure out what's going on, and then they'll fix it."

"I wish they could fix you," she murmured, then felt him stiffen. His arm fell away from her shoulders, and Buffy bit back a sigh. "And that's not how I meant it, and you know it, Spike. You haven't been sleeping. You're hardly even standing still for two minutes at a time these days."

"I was born with too much energy," he replied. "I'm fine."

"What can I do to help?"

"Nothin'." Spike frowned. "Actually, you can help me stake those losers over there."

Buffy was startled by how quickly Spike took off, tearing across the graveyard towards three vampires who had their backs to the Slayer. She shook her head, sighing again. Really, she did love Spike, but he could be just as stubborn as she was at times.

Of course, that was one of the reasons she loved him so much.

Buffy watched Spike take one of the vampires down with a flying kick to the back, landing on the fallen body and putting a stake through its back. He whirled, gracefully, putting the stake through the heart of the vampire coming up behind him.

There was only one more left, and Buffy sent her own stake flying with a flick of her wrist, sending the wood right through the heart while the vampire was still a couple of feet away from her boyfriend. "I wondered when you were goin' to get off your Slayer-arse and help me fulfill your sacred duty," he said with a smirk.

Buffy glared at him, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Tell you what, Big Bad. I promise that I will make sure you go to bed so tired tonight that you sleep like the dead."

"Sounds like a plan." The look in his eyes was grateful, and Buffy stepped closer to pull his head down for a kiss. So many nights she found his beauty startling.

Buffy found herself wanting to take care of this man, and she knew that part of her desire came from the fact that she knew he would care for her in turn.

It was a perfect match.

~~~~~

"You know, if I drink any more tea I will most likely float away," Joyce said with a smile, watching as Giles paused in the act of handing her another cup.

He paused. "Oh, I am sorry. I didn't even—"

"It's fine, Rupert," she assured him. "I know by now that British men say they love you with tea."

He chuckled. "I suppose that's true." Both of them froze at the implications of that statement. "You know—"

"I know. It's mutual."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. "I must confess that I have been most unlucky in love."

"So have I," Joyce replied softly.

Giles settled in next to her on the couch, drawing her over so that her head rested on his shoulder. With gentle fingers, he began to massage her temples. "And, of course, this is terribly bad timing on my part, as you are feeling under the weather."

"It's probably better to take it slow anyway," Joyce said, a nostalgic smile tilting up the corners of her lips. "We definitely rushed into things the last time."

"True."

"Of course, now I know what exactly I have to look forward to." Joyce gave him a purely feminine smile. "And I am very much looking forward to it."

Giles bit back a groan, thinking that it was going to be a rather long wait. He sighed. "Your grand opening is tomorrow, isn't it? I'm sorry I'm going to miss it."

"Oh, it probably won't be that exciting," Giles replied dismissively. "With any luck, it will simply include quite a lot of people going in and out and buying things. Hardly anything to worry about missing."

Joyce's fingers were making rather dangerous patterns on his leg. "I still thought I might make it over my lunch break. Wouldn't it be fun to christen the supply closet with—what does Spike call it?—a good snog?"

Giles laughed. "A welcome image, my dear, but I'm afraid Xander and Anya have already managed it." There was a moment of silence. "I've meant to tell you that I spoke with Spike the other day about career opportunities. I don't know if you knew—"

"A mother always knows," she said enigmatically. "What is he thinking of doing?"

"I encouraged him to think about teaching," Giles replied.

Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I hadn't actually thought about that, but it's not a bad idea. He'd make a wonderful teacher. He's really good with Dawn. It probably shouldn't be a surprise, but..."

"Well, he did take care of Drusilla for over a century," Giles pointed out pragmatically. "For that alone I'd have to say that Spike has the patience of a saint."

~~~~~

Dawn wished her sister would hurry up and get home, mostly because she was hoping that Buffy would have Spike in tow. He'd half-promised to come back to say goodnight to her.

Thinking about Spike, Dawn was confused about how she felt about him. He was so cool—everything about him just screamed coolness. Plus, the way he always looked after her, like he enjoyed spending time with her. He'd even said he liked hanging out with her; Dawn had heard him tell Buffy that one day when her sister had complained about Dawn being around so much.

She'd wanted to burst in on them and say, "Take that!" Since it was eavesdropping, she'd kept her mouth shut.

It was like he was her older brother, but even better, since he didn't treat her like a pest the way Buffy always did. Maybe Spike was cooler because they weren't actually related.

And he was way smarter than Buffy. He'd totally known what the symbolism in The Great Gatsby was all about. No one else even had a clue.

Dawn frowned, and began to write:

Buffy better figure out how important I am. I know Spike gets it. He was so great today at the hospital. I felt totally safe with him, like he'd make everything okay. Plus, he said he'd take care of Mom, and I believe him.

I love him, but I don't think I'm in love with him. I mean, he's practically my brother. But I still love him, and I feel good when he's around, like everything is going to be okay. No one else makes me feel like that, not even Buffy. Like today, with Mom passing out and everything, what she said right before, "Who are you?" It was so freaky, and then Spike was just there. He made me feel okay again.

~~~~~

Buffy ran her fingers through Spike's hair. The roots were showing again, and he'd let it get longer. She had the feeling that he didn't quite know what to do with it. "Your hair's getting long again."

"I know," he replied, voice muffled by her shoulder. "Bleaching it all the time hurts like the devil."

"You could grow it out," she suggested thoughtfully. "It would look good."

"Maybe."

Buffy knew he was nearly asleep, and she glanced over at the clock. It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Buffy knew she needed to get going. They both had busy days coming up, and she needed to get back to her mom's so she could help out in the morning. Spike had promised to stick around too, but he had to be at the gallery all day, especially since it was unlikely Joyce would be up to it.

It seemed that she had kept her promise though. After another couple hours of patrol, and then a nice—very nice—period of lovemaking, Spike was perfectly relaxed and almost asleep.

Buffy edged her way out from under him. "Leaving?" he mumbled, his tone verging on a whine.

"I have to get back," she whispered. "Think you'll sleep?"

"Like the dead." He roused himself enough to give her a satisfactory goodbye kiss. "See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be at Giles' opening. If you can get away—"

"I'll see you at lunch-time then," he replied, smiling sleepily. "An' I'll cook tomorrow night. 've been practicing."

Buffy laughed. "Good thing one of us has. I still burn water." She touched his cheek in a tender gesture. "Good night, Spike."

She watched his eyes close and stayed until she could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.

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