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Treacle-Antlers
Her skin felt as if it were humming and that had to be a good thing.
Finished toweling her hair dry and padded back into the bedroom, pressed play on the stereo and then grimaced at the discordant sounds that suddenly filled the air. Ick...his taste in music...now that was one area that could really do with some work. Maybe time to introduce him to the 21st century. She turned the CD over and raised her eyebrows at the motley crew assembled on the front. All black jeans, leather and pasty faces, hmmm...could see a correlation here. And the song? That was hardly a spirit lifter. Pretty original though, she had to give that to them, never heard a love song about the Ku Klux Klan before. Ejected it with a vicious stab.
She could hear his voice downstairs, sounding a little irritable, a short abrupt laugh. Dawn probably baiting him again. She pulled her clothes back on over her tingling body, thought about how they were going to spent the day. Everything felt so good, for the first time in so long. Like a normal girl. And her normal boyfriend. Felt like doing normal things, spreading the happy.
"I was thinking...how about I do a roast today? Invite all the guys over? We'll make it like a big family Sunday Lunch thing."
No answer but she could hear someone else now, a lower calmer voice, instantly recognisable. A stab of irritation. Aww...nuts. Why today? Why did he have to come today? Their first proper weekend together? Whatever his business with Spike she was sure it could wait one more day. Unless of course he had other reasons for being here. She frowned as she walked quietly to the top of the stairs, arms crossed ready to lay it all out again, tell him exactly where he stood.
"You have got to be taking the piss?"
Spike's voice was incredulous, sharp-edged with disbelief,
"I'm sorry...but Wesley's pretty sure about it."
"Pretty sure? Oh...he's pretty sure? Right...well that's that then. As long as he's pretty sure...that's good enough for me."
"Spike..."
"William."
Angel sighed,
"Right...William...I'm sorry. Look, I didn't come here to spread doom and..."
"You could have fooled me..."
his blue eyes narrowed to slits, still unaware of her presence,
"You're bloody loving this...aren't you?"
She cleared her throat and they both started, couldn't help noticing the sudden look of guilt that crossed her ex's face. She locked eyes with him, asked silent questions, but he quickly dropped his gaze, feigning sudden interest in his empty soda can. She stalked down the stairs, arms still firmly wrapped around her body. Don't mess with me, just tell me what's going on here, faced him down.
"And what exactly is it that you're loving?
He looked away. Evidently she wasn't going to get a straight answer from him, turned to Spike instead,
"It's nothing pet. Nothing to worry about."
His face did absolutely nothing to reassure her,
"Tell me then."
She saw Angel shift uncomfortably in his seat, glancing towards the door as Dawn appeared,
"Guys? What's going on?"
The silence was palpable and slowly she felt her irritation changing into something else. A prickle of fear. She shuddered and then his hand was holding hers, gently pulling her down beside him. She glanced at Angel, saw his expression, serious, intense and her mouth went suddenly dry.
"Will someone please tell me what this is about?"
Spike sighed,
"Me baby. It's about me."
His hand on hers was warm, folding itself around her fingers. She saw Angel's eyes dart to them for a moment and a look of pain crossed his face. Wasn't jealousy though. Her stomach churned as she recognised the emotion. He was sorry for them. Why was he sorry? She felt her whole body stiffen as she realised this had to be serious, something bad. He'd said something about...
"Wesley? What were you saying before? What's he pretty sure about?"
More silence. Dawn's voice broke in, wobbly with nerves.
"Why doesn't anyone want to say? Angel?"
Her eyes were already wide with expectation, fearing the worst as always and Buffy reached out for her with one hand, pulled her closer.
"Wesley's done a lot of research since I....well, ever since we first found out there might be a chance that I would....I mean, some day...."
"Be human again. Go on."
Her nerves felt like barbed wire, stretched to the limit. What was he trying to say?
"My mortality...Buffy, it was returned to me because I earned it. The Powers said that my...that I'd done enough," he frowned, suddenly contrite, "I mean...I didn't agree...but...well..."
"They're the boss of you."
he nodded, seemed a little ashamed. Dawn spoke again, this time more softly,
"So you're saying...Spike's different. He didn't...earn his soul?"
She thought he might object to that, but no, he was nodding too, holding her hand even tighter now.
"Spike sorta...jumped the queue."
"He...what?"
But somehow...why didn't that surprise her? Never been one to play by the rules after all. She looked at him searchingly, asking for an explanation, but she could tell he was uncomfortable with this one. His grip loosened a little and a hand went to his forehead a little nervous at what her reaction might be to this one.
"It wasn't..like that exactly. I told you...I went to get the chip out. The guy...he made me do all this stuff...trials. Fight all these demons, man-eating beetles and shit. I had visions and I saw Tara. I told you."
She nodded, knowing there had to more that he hadn't.
"I went to this...place and she was there. Bit of a surprise too...cos...I didn't know till then that she was...you know..."
his voice faltered seeing Dawn's pained expression.
"She said...she gave me the stone for Red and I was going to go....but then I saw him."
He'd lost her...who were they talking about now?
"You saw who?"
"Me. I saw me."
"You saw you?"
And Dawn was the one to get it first, understood what he was saying,
"You saw William? The original William?"
Spike swallowed, overcome at the memory for a moment,
"Yeah. He was just standing there looking at me, all sort of miserable looking and...it was weird. It was like seeing...I dunno...it was like finding something you'd completely forgotten about. Like a toy you'd had as a kid or something. And suddenly you think...you remember...stuff. I just knew....I had to take him with me."
"So what are you saying? Spike...you kidnapped him? You kidnapped...your soul?"
Her voice was high-pitched with alarm, this had to be bad. So bizarre it couldn't be anything else. Had to be some kind of penalty for this, some kind of karmic fine or something.
"Not exactly! I mean...he wanted to...I...I wanted to come."
this was getting confusing. He sighed, realising it.
"Anyway, I suppose it's like Granpa says. I guess I sorta...slid under the barriers."
She felt sick but at the same time there was the insane need to laugh. Tried to suppress it 'cos God knows he didn't look as if he needed that right now. Tried to compose her features into something resembling seriousness, nodded her head as if she understood. Right. O.K.
"So..what does this all mean...exactly? I mean...does he have to give it back or something?"
As usual Dawn could cut through all the detritus with one sentence, asked the question that hadn't even occurred to her yet and now it had the nausea hit her again.
"No! He doesn't does he? Angel...?"
Her ex shook his head, allowed himself a small smile even,
"No. It's a no-returns policy. William and he are inseperable now."
She let the air out of her lungs in one long breath, tried to focus back on the reality. Spike's hand on hers again, his warm thigh pressing against her, blue eyes looking right into her. All Spike. All William. All hers. So why did he still so troubled?
"There's more though...isn't there?"
She saw his shoulders slump a little, nodded slowly,
"The Watcher thinks there may be a price."
"A price?"
Why did the word sound so chilling, so portentous.
"So you have to...what...pay for your soul? How?"
"He thinks maybe a sort of...'higher purpose purchase'."
God, puns? He was doing puns now? Could always trust the Spike in him to come out with the inappropriate humour. He half-smiled, pressed a soft kiss to her temple and she saw Dawn roll her eyes in frustration, so that was that all they were going to get?
"So how much? How does he pay? I mean...what's a soul go for these days anyway?"
Angel tipped his soda back, finishing the last drops. Smacked his lips, forgetting where he was for a moment, savouring the taste on a mortal tongue.
"Mmm...love sugar."
"Angel!!"
"Sorry." he nodded his head, trying to get it straight in there,
"Ah...it's quite simple really. Wesley thinks that it's a sort of a...like-for-like deal. Spike got his soul for nothing so he has to pay for it with the same."
Buffy felt an icy chill on her spine. Pay with a soul? Why didn't that sound good? Dawn sighed, touched her arm with a finger,
"He means Spike's got to save someone's life to earn it...right?"
Angel grimaced, inclined his head, looking at his one time partner with barely concealed amusement.
"Ah...not exactly. Not just the one."
Buffy looked from one face to the next, sighed in exasperation, so tired of this guessing game Angel.
"So what...how many then?"
Spike drew a sharp breath, raised his eyebrows. Ready for this one Slayer, cos I'm sure not.
"Ah...we think. One for every one I took. As a vampire. One soul for every person I killed."
The realisation sunk in and they all stared at him. Dawn's expression full of trepidation, confused,
"So....how many...are we talking about here? A hundred? Five hundred?"
she swallowed,
"I mean...you were exaggerating before...with the...thousands...of...?"
This was too much, she could tell. He was almost crawling out of his skin with discomfort.
"A lot , Niblet. Lets just say it was a lot."
It's not like she hadn't known this. But it wasn't him now, wasn't her Spike...her William. Gently she slipped an arm around his waist, felt him stiffen slightly and then relax, his eyes coming back to hers , full of love and gratitude. A silent thank you for her forgiveness.
"So you'll save people. That's good...I mean that's good, isn't it? I mean that's sort of what you did before anyway."
"Not really Niblet."
he flushed a little self-consciously,
"Had...ulterior motives sort of..not entirely unselfish ones."
"Oh."
But she had known that, known that the hero trip was mostly for her benefit. It didn't really matter though did it? The results had been the same. Evil had been thwarted and all. But now? What were they saying? That he had to make amends? Had to spend the rest of his life...probably...making amends. Felt her stomach drop away as she realised all the implications. He had a mission now. He was mission-guy. He wasn't going to be there every day, every night when she got home. And danger...there would be danger...there always was for people in their line of work. So much for the normal boyfriend, her rock, her little piece of sky. She looked at Angel again, saw he was ready to leave. Thanks honey. No really. The bearer of glad tidings once again and now back off to your own life, leave us to pick through the wreckage. She tried not to glare at him, made her voice as light and capable as she could, just called me Giles Mark II.
"Well ...at least this gives him some kind of...purpose now. I mean we were wondering what he was going to do with...his spare time..and now we know. It's sort of like a...vocation. Like being a Good Samaritan or something."
She glanced back at Spike rubbing his pulse point with one hand as if he was getting the mother of all migraines. She frowned What was wrong with him? He looked as if he'd just been offered a job cleaning public toilets rather than a worthy obligation, not dissimilar to her own.
"Honey, it's not so bad! So you have a...a calling? It's just something else we'll have in common."
He sighed heavily, rested his head in his hands., kneaded the temples
"A calling. Great. I have a calling
She looked at Angel in frustration, raised her eyebrows threateningly when she noticed his amusement,
"Angel...this isn't funny."
"No," he hid the smirk, pointedly clearing his throat instead "Ah...no you're right. It isn't."
He got to his feet and she couldn't help but notice the change in his demeanor from the Angel she had known before, his whole stance looser, almost carefree now. Forcing a look of serious responsibility onto his two- hundred and forty-seven year old face, he shoved his hands casually into his Joe-Normal pockets and turned for the door,
"No. Helping the hopeless? Take it from me Buffy. It's a pretty heavy gig."