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Dee Bradfield
FEEDBACK: deebradfield@hotmail.com.
TIMELINE: AU. Set post-chip and Riley is long gone (happy, happy, joy, joy - spontaneous outburst, sorry). It's like Season Five, but without all the Glory/Dawn hoo-ha. (Who? Huh?).
SUMMARY: Spike realized his feelings a bit earlier than depicted in the show and took off for a while. Now he's back, and he's a little different. He experiments with some psychic stuff and is contaminated by a supernatural infection that he may have inadvertently passed on to Buffy and Giles. At least, that's how it started - I kinda went all Forrest Gump with the ball.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em but I'll put 'em back in their Mutant Enemy box when I'm done playing, so don't sue me, 'K?
DEDICATION: To James Wesley Marsters for being such an all-fired hottie.
The silence was deafening. If someone had cared to drop a pin, the resulting noise would have had an echo.
"My heart's beating," Spike repeated, staring into Buffy's eyes, his voice shocked and shaking.
"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "I mean, it's been awhile."
"'Course I'm sure." Spike's free hand clutched at his chest. "It's thumpin' away in here like ... a big thumpy thing."
"He's right," Buffy said quietly. She tightened her hold on his hand and entwined their fingers. "We're still linked. I can feel it too."
"Well, this is highly unusual," Giles huffed. "You realize that I'll have to contact the Council now. This is beyond my capacity."
Spike abruptly began to panic. "I'm not human. Am I? I can't be human. I don't wanna be human again."
"We don't know what this means yet so don't fall apart on me," Buffy warned. He felt a calming wave flow over him via their link. "We still have Drusilla to deal with."
"Yeah right. Not being alarmist or anything, but heart beating here! That's all fine and dandy when you're alive. But then the old ticker stops. Dead. And it's not so bloody funny." He gazed at her earnestly. "Slayer, I'm gonna die!"
"You're not."
"I could pop off at any second. Pow! No more Spike!"
"So could I," Buffy smiled. "It's a mortal thing."
"Human. Mortal. Same difference." Spike looked like he was about to bolt. "Either way it's completely unwanted. Make it stop."
Buffy lifted their joined hands and frowned at them. "You're getting all warm."
"Oh bloody hell!" Spike tried to pull away but she held firm. They exchanged an exasperated glare.
"The Serpiente has most likely reached its permanent phase," Giles was muttering. "I don't suppose that it's ever been established between a vampire and a Slayer before. The resumption of the heartbeat is presumably a incidental result of that bond."
Spike turned to Xander. "Sorry about that earlier comment mate," he said dryly. "Looks like the Watcher swallowed his own thesaurus."
"Yeah," Xander finally found his voice. He was still a bit thrown by the sight of Buffy holding hands with Spike - and enjoying it. He peered anxiously at Giles. "What's up with the lingo G-man?"
"I have told you repeatedly not to call me that!" Giles snapped.
Anya glowered. "That was rude," she said. She smiled brightly at Spike. "I'm very happy that you're now a member of the ex-demon club."
"I'm not an ex-demon," Spike whined. "I'm still me. Big Bad evil vampire. You should all be trembling in fear."
"Go tell that to someone who doesn't know any better," Buffy said. She let herself indulge in the intensity of their link for a moment. "There's no evil intent here," she whispered into his mind.
Spike blushed. He could feel the heat rising and was helpless to stop it.
"That's so cute!" Willow gushed. She and Tara shared a smile.
Spike was wishing fervently for the ground to open up and suck him in. The only upside to the situation was that Buffy had opened the link between them. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced, and he'd been around for a long time.
There were a profusion of thoughts and feelings projecting from her, but he could sense amid the flow that she was struggling with something and a considerable amount of her energy was tied into that one inner contest. He had a suspicion that he was at the center of the conflict and the thought buoyed him. It was, after all, the place where he was most at home.
"Look," he said. "Someone had better clue me in to what's up. Not as thrilled about this as the rest of you seem to be." He glanced at his and Buffy's joined hands. Well, there you go - there was his silver lining. He gave her fingers a little squeeze.
Buffy graced him with a beatific smile and returned the pressure so intently that his knuckles cracked. All right, so she still wasn't entirely happy with him. He got that.
"I just informed you all that I would have to contact the Council," Giles groused. "I take it no one was listening."
"Only about as much as we usually do," Willow said. "Which I guess is not a lot." She winced sympathetically. "Sorry."
"Hello? Vampire with a heartbeat!" Spike waved his free hand and then paused, considering. "Hang on, I think I'm bloody breathing as well." He cringed as though expecting a blow and inhaled experimentally. He hyperventilated for a moment and then began to cough. "Oh yeah, breathing. This just gets so much better."
"Quit complaining," Buffy admonished. "You sound like a big cry-baby."
Spike glared at her. "You aren't getting it from this side, Slayer. You don't know how weird this is."
Buffy closed her eyes in frustration and her thoughts wafted to him.
"I am getting it from that side, stupid. I know how scared you are. We'll deal with it, okay?"
"Now who's being flippant?" he sent back.
"This is not flippant. I'm more used to dealing with the freaky stuff than you."
"Does the word 'vampire' mean anything to you?" Spike asked. He raised a cynical eyebrow. "And it's a sure thing that spendin' a hundred years with Dru was never freaky. 'Cause we all know how bloody not-freaky she is."
"That's different," Buffy snapped aloud.
He interpreted the wave that hit him as intense jealousy and grinned at her smugly. "I felt that, you know," he said.
"Felt what?" Buffy dropped his hand like a hot potato and tried to shut down the link. It didn't work.
"Don't think you can run away from it that easily," Spike told her. "Your Watcher said somethin' along the lines of 'permanent', dint he?"
"Oh-my-GOD." Buffy looked ill. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..." She seemed oblivious to the dumbfounded stares of Giles and the Scoobies.
"You can't blame me this time, it's all your doing." Spike patted at his chest, and then reflexively lay the hand flat, awed by the unfamiliar throbbing in his body. "And that includes this idiotic resurrectiony stuff."
"Oh no," Buffy held up her hand in protest. "You can't lay that on me. If you're getting all blamey, how about your friend Napoleon?"
"Apollyon!"
"Whatever. That whatsit demon put the snakey-thing in your head, how about we go and beat the crap out of him."
"Well I'm always up for a spot of violence." Spike smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. "You're cute when I'm angry, Slayer."
"As entertaining as this is," Giles interrupted, sounding impossibly worn out. "I'm beginning to get a tennis-match class crick in my neck."
"Yeah," Anya agreed bluntly. "How about you two just leave."
"She means, why don't you go and do the fighty thing somewhere other than here," Xander hurried to clarify. "We'll stay and pitch the full-on wiggy fit." He smiled tightly. "We excel at those. Lots and lots of practice."
"Patrol then?" Buffy suggested to Spike. "I could dust a few vamps, take the edge off."
"What edge?" he asked.
"That major Spike-shaped edge that's digging in to my rear end." She smiled sweetly. "Can you feel it too?"
"You really want an answer to that?"
************
Apollyon sat on the tunnel floor and contented himself with drawing patterns on the sandy surface with his claws. His tentacles rippled, stretched out into a wing-like formation and then returned to lie along his shoulders. The lack of stimulating company was tiresome for a demon of his caliber. He couldn't even try probing into the mind of the Drusilla-vamp to break the monotony. There was no way he would be able to reach her in her present state.
He rumbled to himself in irritation and peered at the vampiress. She rested against the granite face of the tunnel wall, the manacles about her wrists anchored to the stone by heavy chains. She had been shut down for hours now, mumbling every so often about stars and babies, and someone she called Angel. A speculative gleam flared in his eyes. His interest was piqued somewhat by this Angel character - he sounded fascinating. Of course, he would have to check that investigating that interest would have no adverse effect on Spike's welfare. He did owe the vampire a rather large debt on behalf of his entire species.
The irritated rumble deepened to a purr, which then rolled into a guttural laugh. The expression on Spike's face had been extremely amusing, as was his displeasure at learning of the Serpiente. That would change. Once he'd been exposed to the possibilities of the link, there was no way he could be disappointed. This was the road to true happiness for Spike. Apollyon had seen into the vampire's heart and was positive he had done the right thing.
The chains rattled as Drusilla stirred and fixed her wide-set eyes on him.
"I'm very cross with you," she sulkily informed him. "You were supposed to help me get my Spike back."
"Spike to another belongs," Apollyon wheezed. He angled his head and regarded her suspiciously. "Of this aware."
"I could see her," Drusilla admitted. She stared blindly at the opposite wall, her mind wandering. "He tried to hide her from me, but she was like music in his head. A pretty little goldfish swimming all around and in and out." Her gaze returned to the demon and the hostility in her eyes surprised him. "The Slayer shouldn't take my toys without asking, you know. She'll have to pay for that."
Apollyon shifted uneasily, glad that he'd finally agreed to restrain her. He hadn't thought it necessary, but Spike had insisted. The vampire obviously knew his former lover very well. The demon tightened his tentacles closer against his shoulders, not wanting to get his receptors anywhere near such insanity. He couldn't believe that he'd traveled all the way from Mexico with her in his van and hadn't suspected the extent of her problems.
He jumped as the trapdoor from Spike's crypt was thrown open.
"Hey Apollyon!" Spike called through the opening, not bothering to climb down. "Haul your slimy tail on up here! Got someone you'll want to meet."
************
Spike observed Buffy covertly from beneath his lashes as she proceeded to ignore him and settle cautiously in his mangy green armchair.
On their brief journey to the crypt they had run into and dispatched a round of vamp newbies in the cemetery. She hadn't said two words to him the entire time, and even her essence was distant. All told, she was taking it better than he had anticipated.
"Stop looking at me," she said suddenly, drumming the fingers of both hands on the armrests. "I don't like it when you look at me."
"Why's that?"
Buffy sighed. "I don't know."
Spike smirked. He couldn't help it. "You do so. I make you uncomfortable."
She turned to look at him but didn't comment.
"You know why I make you uncomfortable, Slayer? 'Cause you want me. And that scares you."
Buffy blinked at him. "Your ego must be the size of Alaska."
"Isn't a matter of ego. I can feel it. Always been able to, if the truth be known. Figure that's the reason I never got around to killin' you good and proper."
She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again as a massive clawed hand emerged from the trapdoor. It dug into the stone floor for traction as it dragged the monstrous body it was attached to from the narrow opening.
"Tight fit, mate?" Spike asked dryly as the demon rose to tower over him.
The beast grunted - a sort of dual grunt that managed to be both high and low in pitch.
"So, Apollyon, allow me to introduce ... the Slayer." Spike gestured grandly and threw her a cocky grin as the demon moved in her direction.
Buffy shot to her feet and stood on the chair to get some extra height.
"Hi!" She waved cheerfully, hoping that the motion would put him off having to shake her hand or something. "You're way bigger than I thought." She gave him a tentative smile and got a reassuring surge from Spike that unnerved her more than coming face to face with the demon did.
"Don't do that," she sent telepathically. "It puts me off."
"Puts you off what?" he returned. "Runnin' like a scaredy girl?"
She scowled and he winked at her, moving to nudge the demon conspiratorially. "Makes you wonder what all the fuss is about, don't it?" he said.
"Hey!" Buffy protested.
"Well, you've got to admit, there isn't that much of you, Slayer. You're a mite scrawny. 'Specially when compared to teeny little Apollyon here."
"How tall is he anyway?"
"Don't know. Never cared to estimate." Spike gazed up at the demon. "Vicinity of ten foot?" He frowned at Apollyon who had yet to say anything. "Struck dumb by her beauty or somethin', mate?" he asked.
Buffy blushed. "Shut up," she hissed. Her eyes widened as the demon's tentacles extended in her direction.
Spike sensed her panic and gave her a quick mental embrace. "Don't get violent. He's just gonna do you a bit of a reading," he told her. "It's sort of a Keratos formality. He won't hurt or anything."
"Oh sure. Look what he did to you."
Spike hesitated for a second. It was a good point.
"I'm gonna trust you," Buffy continued. "But so help me, if you're wrong..."
Her voice trailed off as a set of Apollyon's tentacles made contact with her temples, their ends grasping like suction caps. Another set came to rest lightly on her chest, as though testing for a heartbeat. There was an instant when she thought she was going to faint, a kind of floaty out-of- body experience, and then it was over. The demon shuffled back a few paces and grumble-squeaked at Spike.
The vampire bestowed Apollyon with the biggest, warmest smile she'd ever seen him produce - the subconscious joy radiating from it enveloped her like a fuzzy blanket.
"What?" Buffy demanded, suspicious.
"Just confirmed somethin' that I might've sussed out already."
Spike's joy seemed to have an edge of giddiness to it. She felt light- headed on his account and sat back down.
"I don't love you, if that's what you mean."
"Believe me, Slayer, I'm well aware of that." His happiness dimmed a fraction and his smile took on a tight edge. "The possibility is there, is all. A bit of potential. You feel something."
"Okay, I'll admit that I don't hate you - as much. How's that?"
"Enough. For now."
The Keratos interrupted, and Buffy took advantage of Spike's distraction to contemplate her feelings a little more closely.
Could she love Spike?
Well, there was the million-dollar question. And no lifelines left either.
She was undeniably attracted to him in a physical way. At this point she had to admit that she always had been. They had sparkage. That wasn't a problem. So what was?
The vampire thing also appeared to be a non-problem at the moment, considering the whole heartbeat and breathing scenario, so she could scratch that one too.
Scratching that left a huge portion of the slate bare. Not of the good. She was running out of cons. And the pro column was growing longer.
She'd already told Giles about the strength and the bravery, and when you included that he seemed to be in love with her. True love - the melty, chocolatey, hearts-and-flowers kind that you got in the movies. She was fascinated at the idea of it, but a bit horrified as well.
This was William the Bloody, a guy who'd earned his charming nickname by ramming railroad spikes through people's heads. He'd been trying to annihilate the whole Scooby gang for years. That he hadn't achieved his goal was unimportant. He'd tried. He'd enjoyed trying. And he'd rubbed their collective faces in that particular fact over and over.
She sighed. It was the microchip factor that was throwing her reasoning off. She couldn't deny that Spike had changed. With the link active she could detect the soft underbelly that he'd managed to keep hidden all this time, but was that softness a permanent thing? Would his caring nature alter if the chip deactivated?
She blinked and looked up to see that Spike and the Keratos had finished their conversation. Both were staring at her.
"Well," Spike drawled, "That was ... interesting."
"You could hear that?"
"Some." He puffed out his chest and folded his arms across it, regarding her seriously. "The chip didn't change me," he said finally. "Not the way you think. All it did was curb some of the killin' instinct. The whole slaughter of innocent humans bit. Everything else is exactly the same as it was."
"I don't believe that." Buffy said. "I can't believe that."
Spike took a breath, but she sensed the question before he voiced it.
"Why not?" she asked. "Vampire bad - Buffy kill. See? Black and white. Sacred duty. You're a whole pencil sketch of shades, Spike. It screws up the outlook."
"So I'm what? An anomaly now?" He glanced at Apollyon as though seeking backup. "I'm not the only demon that colors outside the lines, Slayer. We're all different."
The notion came to Buffy as a revelation.
"Like people," she observed. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Why had Giles neglected to teach her?
"Like people." Spike approved, nodding. "And there's why the likes of the Watcher's Council haven't cleared the ranks, and never will."
He squatted down in front of the chair, trying to convince her of his sincerity. "Life's stained in all shades of grey, love. It's not always clean - it's not always neat. You can't pigeonhole 'Good' and 'Evil' into simple 'Human' and 'Demon' types, there's both in each." He frowned. "That didn't come out right."
"But I understand what you're getting at," Buffy slumped back into the armchair. "You realize that you just debunked years of Slayer training in less than a minute."
Spike shrugged. "Needed debunking, then."
They smiled at each other, sharing a moment of complete harmony.
"Oh, and here's a little tidbit for you," he put in brightly, suddenly feeling the urge to aggravate her. "That's not how the nickname came about. Don't be believin' everything you've been told. Those Watchers of yours are mightily attached to preconceived notions."
She stared at him, the demand for an explanation on the tip of her tongue.
Then Apollyon started screaming.
"Bloody hell!" Spike yelled, slapping his hands over his ears.
Buffy did the same, but the gesture did little to minimize the noise that continued to come from the demon in an endless wail, like a police siren.
Spike's voice came in Buffy's head. "Whatever's givin' him the willies, he'll just keep on 'til it stops. Downside of him having two sets of lungs."
He sounded like he was in pain and Buffy belatedly remembered that vampire hearing was more sensitive than hers was. She frowned at the thought. Wasn't he human now?
"Yeah, I noticed that." Spike's voice came again. "Seems some vampy perks have decided to hang 'round." He gave her a mental smile that manifested physically in his eyes. "I'd bolt outside to check on the daylight situation, but blowin' away in the breeze doesn't appeal."
"That's not funny," Buffy rebuked. "And also not important. How the hell are we supposed to get him to shut up?"
Spike stared at the erupting Keratos for a moment, weighing his options. He flashed her a mischievous grin and headed for the battered old chest next to the television. He rummaged around inside and emerged brandishing a baseball bat.
"Just knock him out," Buffy said. "Don't kill him."
"No killin'. Promise."
Spike wielded the bat with a practiced ease and it connected solidly with the back of Apollyon's head. The demon swayed slightly, but did not fall. The screaming continued. Spike stared at him, perplexed, and then hit him again. And again. Nothing happened.
"Bugger," Spike muttered. He glanced sheepishly at Buffy, who watched with growing amusement, her hands still covering her ears. "What?"
Buffy merely raised her eyebrow at him. "You're doing a great job there, Paul Bunyan. Keep chopping."
Great. Even in his head she sounded sarcastic.
He offered her the bat. She rose from the chair and accepted it with a small bow. She smiled evilly and swung it in a wide arc. The subsequent cracking sound made Spike wince, his eyes shut tightly. That had to hurt.
The demon's screaming ceased for a merciful ten seconds and then started back up.
Spike opened his eyes and gaped at the Keratos in disbelief. Buffy exhibited a remarkably similar expression, but hers was directed at the now splintered baseball bat in her hands. Splintered right through the sweet spot.
"That's just bleedin' perfect." The vampire was annoyed now. He'd had that bat for fifty years - it was his favorite. "Can I kill him now?"
"I'd like to see you try." Buffy angled her head and eyed the demon. "Got any rope?"
Spike caught a mental indication of her plan and went back to rifle through the chest. This time he triumphantly held up a large roll of industrial cable.
Buffy narrowed her eyes at it. "I'm not going to ask why you've got that. I don't want to know." She shook her head. "Really, really don't want to know."
Together they managed to gag the still spouting demon and stood back to admire their handiwork. Apollyon was now positioned awkwardly on Spike's chair with most of his upper body wrapped in cable. He continued emitting noise, but it was now subdued to a quiet whine.
"Can he breathe with his mouth tied shut like that?" Buffy asked.
Spike shrugged and wiggled a finger in his ear. "Don't rightly care. I just want this bloody whistlin' to stop." He paused for a moment and tipped his head from side to side. "Think he might have perforated me eardrum."
"Good thing you don't need it to hear me," Buffy teased in his mind.
"You realize that we worked this whole thing without talkin'?"
Buffy contemplated that. "We did?" They had. What did that mean?
"Means we're a team."
"It so does not! There's no team. And there's definitely no 'we'."
"And the lady does the 'protest too much' routine - as per bloody usual." Spike sighed, casting his eyes toward the ceiling. "Don't know how you get on denyin' everything that doesn't fit in that convenient round hole you've got set up."
Buffy gnawed at her lower lip and stared at him. She didn't have to open her mouth. The words 'square peg' shot out at him loud and clear.
Spike ignored the message, gave the whining Keratos a final once-over and ambled toward the trapdoor. "Don't know about you, but I figure Dru's got more'n a bit to do with this," he said.
"I know. You know I know. I know that you know that..." Buffy stopped speaking and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. We both know - what we know."
"That's a lot of knowin' there, Slayer." Spike did the genuine grin thing again and headed down into the tunnel. Buffy caught the gleefully unspoken "We" before his head disappeared from view.
She gritted her teeth. He was so exasperating. A literal pain in the neck.
Well, not with the literal so much anymore. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?
"Oi! Blondie!" Spike's voice bellowed in her head. "You'd best get down here."
"Blondie," Buffy muttered before descending the wooden ladder.
************
Research, better known in the Xander Harris dictionary as 'a full-on wiggy fit', continued unabated at the magic shop, although all but Giles were ready to concede defeat.
"She's coping with it really well," Willow said. "We should just let her cope. Shouldn't we?"
Tara squeezed her partner's hand. "I agree. We'd be better off letting this play out on it's own." She smiled lopsidedly. "Who knows, maybe he'll upset her so much she'll stake him on principle."
"And hope does the Snoopy dance," Xander said wistfully.
"I don't see why you're so opposed to Spike anyway," Anya put in. "I know I wasn't around when he was all evil and trying to kill you and stuff, but he's nice now." She paused for a second and thought it over. "Actually he's like me. We've got a lot in common."
"Huh?" Xander stared at his girlfriend. "Ahn, honey, that's not true."
"Sure it is." Anya began ticking off points on her fingers. "Both of us spent a long time doing nasty things, both really old, both ex-demons in human bodies..."
"But we're not positive that Spike's hundred percent human," Willow said. "Are we?"
"Breathing and a heartbeat count as human in my book," Anya declared.
"Would you all just shut up!" Giles snapped, finally reaching the end of his tether. He slammed his hand onto the table with a loud bang. "There is no conceivable way that I am going to allow Buffy to remain linked to that detestable vampire. If you're not going to help, then I suggest you leave."
The Scoobies peered around at each other in shock. Giles was never this mean to any of them, with the exception of Spike, who he seemed to despise more strongly than he'd previously let on.
"Um, maybe we could come back later," Willow suggested, blinking slowly. "You have to contact the Council anyhow, right?"
"Yeah, we'll h-head home and you can update us if anything changes." Tara wanted to get out of the shop as quickly as possible. She'd seen a brief glimpse of something in Mr. Giles' eyes a moment ago that she wanted to talk to Willow about.
They collected their coats and left the Magic Box, convening in a huddle on the street outside.
"Did you see it?" Willow and Tara asked simultaneously as soon as the door shut behind them.
"See what?" Xander asked. "Other than the G-man gettin' all hot under his starchy collar?"
"That's just it," Willow said. "He's been real touchy all day. Touchy- touchy. Ever since Buffy and Spike linked up. And now he's flashin' lil' yellow sparklies in his eyes."
"Yellow sparklies?" Xander ducked his chin, smiling.
"As in vamp-demon yellow," Anya told him, thumping his shoulder. "Men are so unobservant."
"Giles is a vampire?" Xander was horrified. "When did this happen?"
"I'm not sure that he's actually all vamped out," Willow said. "Same way that I'm not sure that Spike's altogether human. But something's definitely wiggy in Giles-land."
"D-Didn't he have contact with Spike as well?" Tara asked. "We were too distracted by the Buffy and Spike show to pay much attention to that part."
"We've gotta find them," Willow stated. "Buffy and Spike, I mean. We've got to do the Sherlocky thing. Put together the details. Figure out exactly what happened before Giles goes, like, permanently bumpy." She caught hold of Tara's hand and headed in the direction of Spike's crypt.
Anya moved to follow, but had to pause to wait for Xander, who was still going over everything in his mind. "Are you coming?"
Xander sighed heavily, and trailed after the witches. "Only on the Hellmouth," he muttered.
**************
Buffy knew something was wrong the moment she set foot in the tunnel.
Spike was out of sight, but she sensed he was nearby. He felt kinda panicky, not at all like the confident non-vamp she was linked with. She understood that most of that confidence was a carefully erected facade, but this sort of vague alarm was scaring her.
"Spike?"
Buffy sent the call telepathically. There was no answer and goosebumps shot up her arms. Stop it! You are so not afraid right now. She absolutely refused to be concerned about Spike.
"Drusilla's loose."
The realization popped unbidden into her head. But had she thought it or had Spike? She couldn't tell anymore. That was plenty scary on it's own.
Buffy reached behind, under her jacket, and pulled out a stake. She edged carefully along the tunnel wall, keeping a wary eye open.
"Spike? Where are you?" Why is it so damn dark down here?
Spike's lighter flicked on in the shadows just ahead of her, casting a warm glow across his sculpted face.
He smirked. "Fearful she might've done away with me?"
It was the smirk that did it. Buffy stalked over and smacked him. Hard. He flew across to land heavily on the other side of the tunnel.
"Hey!" He complained, sitting up and rubbing his jaw. "No fair gettin' slap- happy. I can't fight back, remember?"
"You jerk! I thought something had happened to you!"
"See? Knew you weren't as detached as you kept makin' out." Spike got to his feet. "That wasn't the intended message, though. Dru's scampered."
"Yeah, I got that." Buffy flexed her fingers and made a mental note not to punch him again. Not while holding a stake anyway. "What I wanna know is why you were so freaked about it."
"I was just wonderin' what she did to set Apollyon off," he said. "Got to be big. And I'm talkin' apocalyptic."
"I've dealt with apocalyptic stuff before. So have you. We'll deal."
"There's that 'we' again, Slayer. For someone who's not on a team, you're pretty chummy."
She held up the stake. "Do you want me to use this?"
Spike's chin jutted out at her in a silent dare, and she focused on it for a second, fascinated. It had a little pointy bit on it, like someone had attached an extra layer of stubborn.
Maybe that's why he brought out the worst in her. She hated stubborn. It reminded her too much of herself. And she didn't want to have anything in common with him. Right?
"Done with the pointless soul-searchin'?" he asked, breaking in on her meditation. "'Cause I'd like to go find Dru before she tries to destroy the world again."