COME BACK TO ME

A/N : much love once again to Lou for making this sooooo much better. Sorry also for the long delay in posting - I won't go into the whys and wherefores but suffice to say I've been busy! Many thanks for sticking with me, and hopefully normal service will now be resumed.

 

“So, they sent you back, despite the fact that you failed?”

 

“Didn't fail, Watcher.  And here’s me thinking you were paying attention.  One more time… I. Staked.  My.  Self.  Got it?”

 

Wesley and Giles scribbled furiously, their heads leaning together, mannerisms almost mirroring the other.  Both opened their mouth to speak, Wes bowing to Giles' seniority and letting him lead the questioning.

 

“And you say you were human?”

 

Spike sighed, exasperated; this was taking way too long.  Buffy was leaning against him, her cheek brushing the top of his shoulder where she nuzzled at him as she discreetly pressed herself closer.  Her scent was making him dizzy – her slightest touch driving him crazy.  He wanted nothing more than to carry her off and find somewhere they could be alone.

 

“Yes, I was human.  Yes, I skewered myself.  Yes, it bloody well hurt.  No, I've no idea what happens next and no – I don't know what they look like and whether they’re batting for our team.  If you want more info, ask little Miss Communes-with-the-Powers over there; I’ve got plans.  Don't know how long I’ve got before I'm a puppet on a god's string again and I mean to fill the time productively.”

 

He shot Buffy a heated look and she blushed, dipping her eyes.   Everybody felt the desire between them, Giles taking off his glasses in a futile attempt to wipe the vision of his Slayer and the vampire in the throes of passion from his brain.  It didn't work and he blustered and stammered over his next words.

 

“So...ahem...Drusilla and erm ...your mother...are...were...how did you...”

 

“Look, mate. You know as much as I do.  I'm back in living colour and see -” Spike vamped out then lost the ridges almost immediately; “I’m my usual charming self, so who's to say that Dru didn't end up back where she was hijacked from and my mum's still...well, wherever she was.”  He didn't want to dwell too much on his mother's whereabouts, recalling the horrors of their original final encounter, and exactly what had lead up to it. 

 

Giles and Wes noted down Spike's words, muttering between themselves.  It appeared that finally they were satisfied that he'd told them all that he knew, but nonetheless there was one more thing  they wanted him to do.  Giles explained.

 

“What?  Not on your life, Watcher. Forget it, my dulcet tones are for my lady and me only.  You can piss right off...”

 

Wesley got to his feet and smoothed down his shirt, coughing nervously.  Angel he knew – or at least he thought he did, before this latest debacle – but Spike...he was an unknown quantity with more than a hint of menace about him, and it was rather unsettling to say the least.  But it was vital that they obtain his cooperation.  Without Spike...well, it would pretty much be a lost cause.  Angel always seemed to be central to some prophecy or other and on this occasion it seemed that the Powers were literally moving heaven and earth to hold on to their hero.  Come what may, Spike had to perform the ritual.  He just had to.

 

“Spike, it will only take a moment.   Lorne will be here any minute and we’ll leave if you'd prefer.  It's just quicker, believe me.  And Lorne's never wrong.”  Wes recalled the time when Angelus had fooled the green demon and amended his words.  “Well, he's hardly ever wrong.”

 

Spike raised a disbelieving eyebrow.  “Is that right?  And what?  You expect me to serenade the jolly green giant so he can give my newly shiny soul the once over?”

 

Wes shuffled his feet.  “Erm… yes, actually.”

 

Spike was about to refuse, but Buffy squeezed his arm drawing his attention.

 

“Please, Spike.  I need to know that you're going to be all right.  Lorne will get to the truth.  I just want this to be over, to have you to myself.  Dawn needs me, needs us.  Please.”

 

To the two of them, there was nobody else in the room as they gazed into each other’s eyes and smiled.  Once the request was made, there was only one response he could give.

 

“Anything for you, Buffy, and the Bit.  Okay, I'll do it.”

 

Buffy threw her arms around his neck and murmured in his ear, “Most of all I need you.  The sooner you get this over with, the sooner I can show you how much.”  She sucked his earlobe.  “Have to feel you, Spike…love you.”

 

In a second his arms were tight around her, his fingers slid through her hair as he lowered his mouth to hers.  They kissed like they were parched from the desert and by the looks of things they had quite a thirst on them.  Their companions studiously avoided looking at the enraptured couple and were staring at their suddenly very interesting feet when to their relief Lorne, Harmony and Andrew sauntered in.

 

Lorne stopped dead, overcome with the emotions flooding his senses.

 

“Whoa!  It’s like the steam room at the Midtowne in here.  Muchas heat, mi amigos...phew!” he rolled his eyes, fanning himself dramatically.  “Bring me a bucket of ice 'cause my skin is sizzling with the hotness that is you, cuties.  What have I missed?”

 

Cordy sauntered over to Lorne's side, tossing her hair over her shoulder and turning to face Spike and Buffy, who had managed to stop devouring each other but were still doing the gazing thing, hands linked and not an inch between them.

 

“Well, Spike went back to London in the 1800s, Drusilla tried to eat his mom and he used a chair leg to skewer himself through his totally beating heart.  Then he managed to seriously weird out the Powers and ended up back here…  where he and Buffy really, really need to get a room.  How was your day?”

 

“Seabreezes, manicures and a seaweed wrap.  Almost perfect, thanks for asking.  So...what's the big emergency that snatched me away from a hot tub and a cabana boy straight out of Playgirl to rub me down?  Or am I to assume that it's to do with love's young dream right there?”

 

Giles stepped forward to speak to the demon.  It still unsettled him a little that he was beginning to  put so much stock in such a creature, but so far Lorne hadn't done anything other than assist them.  And they did need to know exactly what was going to happen.

 

“We'd be obliged if you'd do a reading on Spike.  He's passed the second trial...well, not exactly but it seems that the Powers are willing to make some leeway for his...unique...interpretation of their instructions, but we really have no idea if that’s going to affect the outcome of this shambles.  Can you maybe fill in some blanks for us?”

 

“Sure.  Blondie looks like he could belt out a tune or two.  What's it to be?  Hillbilly?  Country?  No...I'll bet my Christian Dior shades that you're more hardcore.  I've got it!  Limp Bizkit!”

 

“Hey! Less of the limp!  Nah, gotta be the Ramones or the Pistols.  Shall I…?”

 

Lorne held up his hands, stopping Spike from launching into the first notes.  “Just let me get a little comfy, here, Mr Rotten.  Whoever calls the shots has a nasty habit of knocking me out with a doh-ray-me when the fate of the world's at stake – no pun intended – and given that you've just come from a pow wow with them, I think I'd prefer to be sitting down.  Okay, now...give me your best.”

 

Spike hung his head, taking a deep breath to inflate his lungs and steady his nerves.  What an irony; big bad vampire doesn't bat an eyelid when facing the creators of the universe, but give him an audience and a green demon and he turns into a right ninny.  Still, he was no coward and Buffy had asked so sweetly...which thought settled him in his song choice.  He wondered if she'd remember...

 

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated
Nothig' to do, nowhere to go-o-o, I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my toes
Oh no no ohno no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go...
Just put me in a wheelchair...
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated

 

His eyes were on Buffy the entire time, a grin creeping across his face as he realised when she'd worked out where she'd heard that song before.  Happy times...well, not so much, but memories nonetheless.

 

As the final notes died, he couldn’t help but notice the stony silence.  Was he that bad?

 

Cordelia stated the obvious.  “Wow.”

 

Harmony stood to rapt attention, clutching on to Andrew's hand to stop the boy from swooning in a dead faint.  Lorne was blinking rapidly, his showbiz brain busily totting up all the lovely moolah he could rake in from a hot, blond vamp rocker – with a suitable cut for his very attentive and talented green manager, of course.  It almost distracted him from the real purpose of the song - to discover Spike's path.

 

Faith sauntered over to Spike, punching him on the arm playfully.

 

“Hey, Bleach Boy – you rock, man!”

 

Spike couldn't hide a grin.  It wasn't often that he was complimented on anything, certainly nothing artistic, and it appeared that inadvertently he'd won himself a mini fan club.  It felt...good.

 

The sound of slow handclapping drew everyone’s attention to Angel.  “That was just peachy, Spike.  I’m gonna book you for our Walpurgis bash…but, gee, I just remembered you’ll be long gone by then, won’t you?  Tough break,” he commiserated snidely.  “Well, gang, what do you say we get to the main event?  This is getting old fast and I'd really...really like somebody to eat.”

 

Buffy stalked over to where Angel lounged against the wall, fixing him with a hard, cold stare.  Whatever feelings may have lingered from when Angel was the be-all and end-all of her existence had evaporated when the depths of his betrayal were revealed.  She couldn't make her mind up whether he was being forced into this behaviour or whether she was seeing his true nature because some restraint – maybe his soul – was being eroded away.  Whichever it was, it made her sick to her stomach.

 

“Dream on.  Anyway the chunky look doesn’t do you any favours,” she glowered at him.  “Frankly, Angel, I'd be happy to just rip your head off and stomp on your dust but my boyfriend appears to have a god-given task to save your big fat ass from burning – again – and although I don't know the reason or the rhyme behind it, the sooner we're done here, the sooner I can get on with what's really important, like the rest of my life.  Now if you can’t keep your mouth shut, I'll let Willow gag you.”

 

“Ooh, threats – yeah, I like that.  Give me some fire, Buffy.  It makes me hard the way your eyes flash green when you're all riled up.”

 

Buffy took a step towards him, fists curled, breaching the barrier...that suddenly wasn't there.  In a flash, Angel leapt up and at her, his fangs tearing at the flesh of her shoulder as she managed to sidestep him slightly, his restraints saving her from a mauling.  Spike roared; Faith ran towards them...suddenly there were two vampires and two Slayers fighting for all they were worth, Angel using the chains that dangled from his wrists as a weapon.  The fighting was a blur to everyone in the room, but what was clear was that where Buffy was trying to hurt Angel, both Spike and Faith were protecting him.

 

Spike managed to grab hold of Buffy and shove her away from his crowing grandsire, Faith pushing Angel back against the wall, pushing him back forcefully, panting with the effort of controlling her emotions.  Buffy's eyes were flinty with anger and she snapped at Spike.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“The right thing, love.”

 

“What could possibly be right about this?  He needs to die, Spike!  You must see that.  Maybe if he dies, Dawn'll wake up and we can just get out of here.  I can’t take much more of this...it's evil and depraved and I just want to go...home.”

 

Spike crushed her to him, stroking her hair.  “I know, I know, sweetheart.  And we will – our home, but I have to do this right.  It's what heroes do, love.”

 

He was right.  She knew it. Didn't mean she had to like it, and for once she got an insight into how her friends and her family must have felt in the past.  It was hard doing the right thing.  Buffy kissed him gently, cupping his cheek, and conveying with her eyes how very proud she was of him, before turning to her sister Slayer.

 

“Okay, Faith.  You can stand down.  Angel gets to stay undusty – for now.  But we need Willow to sort out this barrier.  I don't trust myself to keep my hands off him if he keeps up the yapping.”

 

Willow opened the door and stopped in the doorway.  “Hey.  You guys have a party without me?  And, Buffy!  How come Faith’s inside my barrier...oh.  It failed, didn't it?  My bad.  I'll fix it now.”

 

“No.  Actually, Willow, Wesley and I have another idea.  We've managed to keep the department out of our hair so far, but it's only a matter of time before someone wants to know where their boss is.  We should move him to his room, block the door, make it look as if he's unwell.  You can detain him there, yes, until we need him?”  Giles shifted uneasily, avoiding looking at the smirking Angel.  He recalled all too well the last time he'd dealt with the evil undead in his soulless incarnation, old wounds bleeding afresh.

 

“Erm...yeah, sure.  I can do that.  Now?”

 

“I don't see why not.  The only problem is how we get him there with the manacles on without drawing attention.”

 

Spike strode forwards.  “Oh, that's simple, Red.”  Drawing back his fist he punched Angel hard, the elder vampire's head snapping back to hit the wall with force of the blow.  Knocked out, Angel slumped to the floor, chin purpling nicely.

 

“Now you can do what you want with him, dress him up like a little girl if you want.  Though you’ll have a job finding a big enough frock.”

 

“Ahem...quite, Spike.  But thank you...transporting him unconscious does make things...ahem...easier.”

 

“You're welcome.  So...take him, before I have a change of heart about being a hero and go back to my badass roots.”

 

Lorne cleared his throat.  “Ah...hi guys...remember me?  The devilishly handsome demon you dragged away from a wax and a massage from Luigi?  Oh, the sacrilege of leaving that poor boy poised with his hot oils and nothing to rub them into.”

 

Giles started.  He had forgotten about Lorne, to his dismay.  Buffy's tense reaction and Spike's surprisingly acceptable rendition of the Ramones' classic, seemed to have wiped everybody's minds.  And then there was the failure of the barrier and the vampire/slayer fight where nobody knew who was actually fighting who.  All in all, Lorne's reading of Spike had slipped beneath the wire. 

 

“Ah, yes...I do apologise.  Please...tell us what you saw.”

 

“You mean apart from a Grammy Award and a trillion dollar record deal?  Well...I'd have to say...nothing.  Nada.  A huge black hole of not got a clue.  Seems our vamp with the golden vocal cords gets to keep his future to himself.  And let me tell you, it's a first for me.  Kudos, Spike.  You beat the empathic demon and still managed to make me want to cover you in chocolate strands and offer you up on a silver platter.”

 

Spike did a literal double take.  He had no future?  Or was it just that the Powers were playing their cards close to their chests?  Whatever it was he'd had enough.  Right now he wasn't needed and he figured he'd earned a breather.  He smirked at Lorne, making the music guru breath harder.  Hot and sultry was hot and sultry, and Spike had it in spades. 

 

Spike turned to Buffy, “C'mon, pet.  I think we need to ...talk.  Tex'll see to the Bit and, Watcher, you'll send for me when I’m needed?”

 

“Ah...yes.  But don't be too long, Spike.  Remember there's another trial before the ritual, and we've no idea what it's going to be.”

 

“Yeah, well.  I don't care.  I figured it out. The Fuckers That Be need me, as in really need me.  I don't need them.  Was good and dead twice until they stuck their oar in.  So, I reckon I'm in the driving seat.  Not sure what the plan is, but I'm taking a time out and they'll just have to deal.  I'll be back when I'm good and ready, and not before.  Any apocalypse that's brewin' had better just simmer along until then.”

 

With no further discussion, Spike seized Buffy's hand and swept out of the lab leaving an empty hole behind him.  Faith moved first, grabbing hold of the unconscious Angel and with Gunn’s help hauled him up between them.  She waited for instructions, but as none were forthcoming moved to stand in front of the blinking Watchers.

 

“You wanna show me where you want me to take him?  And if you intend hurting him, I'd think again.”

 

“Oh, no, Faith!  That's not what we had in mind at all.  Please...follow me.”

 

Wes scampered to the door, Giles following reluctantly.  Whilst he understood that logically Angel needed to be unharmed, he couldn't help the little niggling voice that urged him to sharpen a stake and have done with it.  Ripper was never too far away from the surface. And he thanked god for it.

 

Left behind to kick their heels, Cordelia, Andrew, Lorne, Harmony and Willow lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.  They were used to following somebody's lead and there wasn't a natural leader amongst them.  Except...Cordelia never liked to be out of the limelight.

 

“Hey guys!  So...you went to the mall.  I remember malls.  Pre-coma, I’d have given Lorne a run for his money.  It’s been way too long.  What's hot this season?  Am I totally 2002?”

 

+ + + +

 

Xander stumbled into Angel's office; it was empty.  Even Harmony had abandoned her guard dog post.  He gripped the edge of Angel's desk and clawed his way around to slump into the chair behind it.  What to do now...he had no idea where his newfound ally would be, and to be honest he didn't have the energy to find out.  He needed a drink.

 

Xander rifled the drawers, coming up empty other than a card that indicated extension 273 would patch him through to Demon Domination. It had a hand-scribbled message from Matt to call regarding the 'Spike problem'.  Might be useful.

 

Five minutes of calls later, it appeared that there was a mystery to solve.  Nobody had seen or heard from Angel for a good while, but given his penchant for solitary brooding in dark corners, it hadn't raised any alarm bells.  Until now. 

 

This had all the hallmarks of Scooby interference where it wasn’t wanted.  Thank god the blinkers were off now and he could see how pathetic and useless they really were.  They’d thought they were so great wiping out the bad guys when in reality they were barely scratching the surface.  The Magic Box versus Wolfram and Hart?  Please!  He so wanted this to be over.  He was going to put an end to this phoney righteous showdown that Buffy had engineered when she started giving it up to that disgusting vamp -- again.

 

Wiping his eyes of sleep and booze, Xander picked up the receiver and dialled the extension for Matt.  You could never have too much information on the ‘Spike problem’. 

 

 

TBC