Chapter 78 - Secrets

-----“You do realize you’ve made a deal with the devil, Slayer?”-----
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Spike had his head resting on her shoulder. They were on the couch, and he was still mostly on top of her.

Buffy ran her fingers through his hair. “You left the gel out.”

“I did.”

“I like it.”

A silence.

“I just had an epiphany,” Buffy said.

“About my hair?”

“Lovely as that would be, no. Giles found my prophecy yesterday. Apparently, I’m going to be the longest lived Slayer.”

Spike propped himself up, looking down at her. “Can’t say as I’m displeased with that.”

“Oh, I’m definitely pleased. Considering that at the beginning, Wesley gave me the wonderful expiration date of one year.”

“Sounds like a bloody marvelous prophecy to me.” Spike gradually brought his lips to hers.

Buffy kissed him back, but slowly smiled. “You haven’t heard the rest of it.”

He pulled back. “Oh?”

“The way I stay alive so long is by making ‘an unholy alliance,’ a deal with evil forces to prolong my life.’”

He frowned. “Doesn’t exactly sound like somethin’ you’d do.”

“I’ve already done it.” She gave him a look.

Spike studied her for a moment. Then he grinned. “Me.”

“Yep. I said I wanted you to make me the best because I didn’t want to die. I think that qualifies as making a deal to prolong my life.”

“Go figure. Never heard of a prophecy that seems like what it is.”

“I know, right? It sounds so bad, but it’s really not.” Buffy frowned, considering. “On the other hand, a Slayer making a blood deal with an infamous vampire is sort of bad.”

“Nah. It’s just me and you.”

She paused. “Sort of funny, though, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“That William the Bloody was destined to keep a Slayer alive.”

“Sod the Slayer. I keep you alive.” His hand brushed over her face.

“I know.”

“So you gonna tell the Watcher?”

She stiffened. “I’m not telling Giles anything.”

“You’re not tellin’ him because you’re not tellin’ him anything, or you not tellin’ him because you’d have to tell him about me?”

“I’m not telling him anything. Let him worry about it for a few weeks. I won’t be mad at him by then. I mean, is it some sort of rule that Watchers have to lie to Slayers? What’s with all the secrets?”

Spike snorted. “Yeah. And you don’t have a secret.”

Buffy paused. “Does it bother you that no one knows about you?”

“What do I care about them?”

“Anyway, not telling about you is different,” she insisted. “I was doing what I thought was best for me, not what I thought was best for them. I didn’t mess with someone else’s life. Wesley kept things from me on purpose. Giles drugged me. But even if he had to do that, why couldn’t he have told me? Would it have been so bad for me to know about it? Oh, and by the way, Giles told me about your little shopping spree.”

“Yeah?”

“You were threatening.” She fixed a slight glare on him.

“I was menacing. It’s completely different.”

“Is that so?” She arched a brow.

“Didn’t lay a finger on him. Didn’t even vamp out.” He smirked. “I was just your average pissed off bloke.”

Buffy giggled. “Oh, please. You’re not the average anything.” Then she looked at him seriously. “Don’t buy any more candles.”

-----

The next night, she and Spike patrolled. They had already gone through the cemeteries, where they had each staked a few vampires, and were now walking along the streets behind the Bronze.

There was a sudden scream, and Buffy sped up, Spike following behind her.

As she rounded the corner, Buffy momentarily halted in surprise. There wasn’t a vamp, just a guy and girl. He had her down on the concrete. Her top was ripped and she was shouting and struggling as he tried to get his pants open.

Buffy quickly recovered, rushing forward and pulling the guy off the girl. He hit her as she yanked him up, and Buffy kicked, sending him to the ground. She heard his head hit the pavement, and he didn’t immediately move again. She’d knocked him out, she realized.

Buffy turned to the girl, kneeling down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m—I’m fine.” She pulled at her shirt up and her skirt down, and stood on shaky legs. She looked around and then fished her purse out of the muck.

“Do you have a way home, or—”

“I’ll get a cab. Thanks for, you know, stopping him.” She was already backing out of the alley.

Buffy moved towards her. “Wait. You should—”

“I—I should go. Thank you.”

“—should report it or something,” Buffy finished as the girl disappeared around the corner.

Spike was slowly making his way over. He stopped in front of the unconscious man.

Buffy sighed. “Well, that was different and bad. I think I prefer vamps.” She glanced down, stepping back to where the guy was. “What am I supposed to do with him now?”

Spike looked at the pavement. “You should let me stop him.”

He was staring at the man. Hungrily.

“I thought you liked biting women,” flew out of her mouth.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Buffy looked at him for a moment. “Whatever you have in mind by that, I’m sure my answer is no.”

“It’s like poetic justice—attacker being attacked.” He was still gazing at the sprawled body.

“What? Why do you even care?” she asked. “Like vampires don’t do the same thing.”

Spike turned on her. “What?” His voice was dangerously low.

She suddenly felt trapped. “I know—you’ve got a past. But I made my peace with it.”

“Well, you better unmake your peace with that bit, cause it never happened.”

Buffy took a step into his space. “Oh? Remember, ‘fucked them and drained them’?”

“I didn’t rape ’em.”

“You killed them.”

“They wanted the sex.”

“They wanted to die, too?”

“Vampire. Kind of what I do.” Spike made a face. “Gotta eat, right? Yeah, I killed ’em.” He pointed a finger at her. “But there’s a difference and you know it.”

Buffy crossed her arms and looked away. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Whatever you say, love.”

“Fine,” she said icily. “You were only a murderer.” Then Buffy gave a bitter laugh. “You know, I bet I’m the only girl to sleep with you and survive.”

“Don’t.”

“I should feel honored,” she continued.

“Yeah?” he growled. “Maybe you should.”

Bizarre as it was, he almost had a point. Something about her had made Spike look twice. Had made him see her as more than the usual.

Suddenly, the man at their feet groaned. He slowly rolled over and pushed himself up. He stood, uncertainly glancing back and forth between the two of them.

Buffy was ready to make some statement about girls fighting back, but Spike slipped into game face.

He nodded towards Buffy. “She just wants to stop you. I want to eat you.” He took a step forward.

The guy made a terrified gasping noise as he backed away from Spike. He started running a moment later, disappearing around the corner of the street.

Spike didn’t move, only watched him go. He turned back to her, pointing in the direction the man had gone. “I come across that on my own, I’m considerin’ it takeout.”

“I can’t let just you—”

“I won’t kill ’em, I’ll just have me some. Besides, you said no killing. Taking a bite, you said nothin’ about.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I could’ve been doing that all along, you know. But I wasn’t tryin’ to exploit the sodding loopholes.” He paused. “Bloody hell, what’s it matter? You shouldn’t care about protectin’ wankers like that anyway.”

“Why do you care?” she asked.

“I don’t,” came the simple reply.

It was just an excuse, she realized. Spike didn’t care about justice. He wouldn’t be out looking for girls to save, he’d be out looking for people it was morally acceptable for him to take a bite out of.

“We—we have laws to deal with humans.”

“Yeah, and those work so well. Like that little chit who ran off? She won’t go to your police. He’ll be at it again. Good job, love.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Spike’s human face returned, twisted into an angered scowl.

“You told me you wouldn’t do anything,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, I did. But do you know how bloody hard it is? Your blood’s a tasty treat, but sometimes I just want to hunt something. Hunt, feed, kill—it doesn’t just go away because I say I won’t.”

She looked at him with a hurt expression. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”

“No, I’m sayin’ it’d be nice to take the edge off once in a while, and this seems like as good a solution as any.”

“What do you want from me? To give you permission?”

“Maybe to take a step back and realize the world isn’t black and white. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, really, considerin’ you have no problem gettin’ cozy with yours truly.”

Buffy felt like she had something to uphold, though she wasn’t exactly sure what it was supposed to be. She really didn’t care about what happened to criminals. At the same time, she couldn’t stand by and watch anyone be killed.

But did it make her a horrible person if she didn’t forbid Spike from biting someone who was attacking another person?

“Biting people is—wrong.”

“Wrong?” he demanded. “Maybe killin’ vampires is wrong. Maybe they want to live just as much as you do.”

“You don’t care about other vampires.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care about people. Everything is wrong, depending on who you ask. But I don’t think anyone much cares about what happens to the dregs.”

Suddenly Spike pushed her up against the wall, pinning her with his body. She could have thrown him off, but she didn’t.

“What if it had been you?” he said in low voice. “Just a normal little girl again, couldn’t fight him off, couldn’t get away? Dragged off so he could have his fun again and again? Would you care what happened to him?”

Buffy said nothing.

“Well?” he demanded, forcing her to look at him.

“No.”

“What would you want to happen to him?”

There was silence. “Anything,” she finally whispered.

He smiled.

“So I’d want something to happen to them, that doesn’t make it—”

Buffy cut herself off. Spike was equating a random person with her. He didn’t do that. To Spike, there were people, and then there was her.

This was more than him trying to make a point about biting people.

He was almost taking this personally. He didn’t take things personally unless they had to do with her. But the girl she’d just saved had nothing to do with her. Yet here he was, demanding to know what she would want done if it had been her being taken.

And something clicked.

Buffy stared at him with wide eyes. “You killed him.”

“Who?”

“The guy who tried to kidnap me—you—you— That’s why all of a sudden it was safe, wasn’t it? Someone killed him—but it was you.”

“Yeah,” he said indifferently. “It was.”

“You killed someone for me.”

Suddenly he was in her face, daring her to make an issue of it. “I’ve killed lots of people. What’s one more?”

Buffy laughed abruptly, a hollow cackle. What was one more? It was a drop in the bucket to everything he’d done. There was no reason that this particular death of someone she didn’t know should matter more than the thousands of others.

Except that he had done it for her.

Buffy pushed Spike off. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

“Didn’t have to. But I wanted to.”

“Did you kill the guy that replaced him, too?”

“No. Threatened him, though.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“You couldn’t have threatened the first guy?”

“He was the one who started it. And he had more than kidnappin’ planned.”

It took another moment for his words to sink in. Buffy felt sick as she realized the connection between herself and the girl she’d saved. She looked down at the ground. “And that’s what would have happened to me—if you—”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

She was silent for a moment. “He was the one you tortured?”

“He was.”

“I was the one he was going to do worse to.”

Spike met her gaze. “You were.”

She pushed away from the wall. “But that doesn’t make sense. Why would… Even if he—like revenge—that wouldn’t get him any money back.”

He looked at her, expressionless. “I’m sure there was profit to be made.”

Buffy just stared at him. “Profit to be— You don’t mean—”

Spike gave her a hard look.

“Oh my God.” She turned around, resting her forehead against the bricks. “Oh, God.”

“I took care of it.”

Buffy suddenly felt like throwing up. Though she wasn’t entirely sure whether it was because of what Spike had done, or what someone else had intended to do.

She heard him move next to her, saw his shape block out the light.

“I stopped him from hurting you.”

“Are you trying to justify it?” she asked.

“No. I don’t care. It’s done. I’d do it again.”

Buffy looked up. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“I said I wouldn’t kill for dinner,” he interrupted, anticipating her. “Wouldn’t grab people off the street. Won’t even kill losers like that—” He waved an arm in the general direction the man had gone. “But anyone seriously comes after you, messes with us—all bets are off. That’s not open for discussion. I will kill someone before I see you dead or worse.”

Or worse. Buffy suddenly thought of ‘or worse’ and what could have been. She focused on the wall again. “I—I don’t—I—but—”

“No need to thank me, love. I know you can’t.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. Or both.

“You—you shouldn’t have done it—that way,” she said, looking down. “There had to be something besides killing. But I’m—I mean—of course I wouldn’t have wanted to be—I—” Buffy took a deep breath. “Why—why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Then? Cause I didn’t even want to admit why I did it.”

“And later?” she asked, finally looking up.

“Would you have wanted to hear it?”

“No. I mean, I wouldn’t have wanted to hear it, but I could have dealt with it. I guess. You’ve told me plenty of other stuff I didn’t want to hear, why not this?”

“Because then I would’ve had to tell you why,” he said softly. “And you didn’t need to know.”

“That you killed someone?”

“You never needed to know what would have happened to you.” Spike’s hand brushed over her hair. “Nothin’ like that should happen to you.”

Even then he had thought that about her. Before there had been anything real between them. When she had just been some girl he’d been trying not to like.

Granted, it wasn’t something huge for a vampire to kill someone. He killed, though she hadn’t known it at the time. It was the fact that he’d killed solely to protect that made it significant.

Spike looked at her carefully for a moment. “So I suppose we’re gonna have it out now?”

She didn’t say anything at first.

“No,” Buffy replied. “We’re not.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I don’t know,” she said blankly. “I wish you hadn’t done it, but I’m not sorry that I’m here.” She swallowed. “You’ve killed lots of people. I don’t like thinking about it, but that doesn’t change that it’s true. There’s no reason I should care more about his death than anyone else’s. Except that…if I hadn’t met you, he wouldn’t be dead.”

“Are you sayin’ it’s on you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just saying.”

“If I hadn’t met you, you would be dead.”

Buffy closed her eyes. “I know.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. “Can we just go home now?”

“If you like.”

They left the alley, walking in silence together.