Disclaimer: The vampires and their friends are all Joss Whedons.

Thanks so much for the reviews! Sorry to make you wait so long for the update. 


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Chapter 7 - Location, Location
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“You alright, love?” Spike asked as Buffy came down the stairs. “Sounded like quite a row going on up there.” He had been woken by the sound of Willow and Buffy’s argument and had listened with a mixture of emotions. He was proud of his Slayer for standing up to Willow and the Watcher, amazed that she had finally recognized his love for her aloud. But over the past months she had suffered so much angst and heartache and self loathing rather than risk the wrath of her friends that it made him wish he could get up and knock them senseless. Girl doesn’t need all this from them. She really doesn’t.
 
“I’m fine,” Buffy said distractedly. “Giles called last night, after Willow let him know how I was going over to the dark side, or whatever she told him. He can’t or won’t help, other than saying she’s probably in North America, which narrows it down not at all.” She sat down beside him on the bed, looking tired and troubled.
 
“Hey,” he whispered, moving his skeletal hand to cover hers. “Don’t worry about it, alright? I’m not worth all this bother.”
 
Buffy looked at his hand, and at his concerned blue eyes. She shook her head, befuddled. “You don’t make any sense sometimes. I… I meant what I said, to Willow,” she stammered, turning red as a rose. “I had no right to… to treat you the way I did. You were trying to help, and I…”
 
“Slayer,” Spike said. His voice held more than a hint of its usual strength, and his tone made her stop and look at him. “I’m no saint. I could have tried harder to stop you, instead of dragging you down to my level. You don’t need to beat yourself up on my account.”
 
She couldn’t understand him. Here he was, wasting away before her eyes, and he was worried about her. She had been at her lowest and had taken it all out on him, and here he was trying to make her feel better. “You really are a masochist sometimes, you know that?” Buffy said finally. “You have terrible taste in women. Drusilla, Harmony, me – you’re not love’s bitch, you’re love’s whipping boy or something.”
 
“So you’re going to put me out of my misery then?” Spike said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
 
Buffy half smiled. “My life would be too boring without you. Gonna have to figure out how to keep you around.” They observed each other for a long moment, processing all that had been said. Then with a little shake of her head, she pushed up her sleeve and held out her arm. “You need some breakfast. You look dead.”
 
“Very funny, Slayer,” Spike growled. But he took her arm and fed, taking slow, gentle sips that made her sigh with pleasure. When he had finished, he ran his thumb thoughtfully over her wrist. “Gonna get a scar on your pretty arm if we keep this up.”
 
Buffy shrugged. “What’s one more scar between friends?”
 
Spike’s head fell back and he tried to get comfortable again. “So all those council wankers can’t find us a vampire?” he asked.
 
Buffy shook her head. “No. I guess they have a coven who could…” She broke off, then smacked herself on the forehead. “Of course! Locator spell! Willow or Tara could do a locator spell! Why didn’t I think of that before?”
 
“Think they’ll be powerful enough to pull it off?” Spike asked doubtfully. “I mean, North America’s rather a big place.”
 
“Guess we won’t know unless we try,” Buffy replied. She stood up. “I’ll try to get Willow and Tara together at the Magic Box. Maybe Anya can help out too.”
 
“It’s a good an idea as any,” Spike agreed. “Is Red going to be willing to help though?”
 
“Oh, she’ll help. If I have to force her at gunpoint. She owes me,” Buffy said, determined. She found her mood lifting now that she had something concrete to do. “Need anything?”
 
“Can you just pass those other books over?” Spike said. “Might as well catch up on some more literature from my misspent youth.” Buffy handed him a few more volumes – Dickens, more Wilde, and the collected poems of Byron. “I know, doesn’t really fit the big bad image, does it?” he said as he noticed her amused perusal of the titles.
 
“I won’t mention it to the other demons. For all they know, you spend your free time biting the heads off of kittens or something.”
 
“Gotta protect my reputation,” he jibed.
 
“I’ll try to see what the witches can come up with,” Buffy said. “Be back soon.” Spike smiled faintly and watched her go. Then his smile faded as he tried to sit up on his own. He struggled and ground his teeth, and managed to get about half way there, but in the end he just couldn’t manage it. He flopped back, exhausted again, and growled in frustration. Fuck this. Even if I wanted to stake myself to end this I wouldn’t have the strength to drive the goddamn thing into my own chest. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He angrily tossed Oscar Wilde to the side with as much energy as he could muster and lay there, fists clenched and cursing silently.
 
*****************
 
“So, can you guys do it?” Buffy had gathered Willow and Tara at the Magic Box, and explained to them and to Anya what she wanted them to do. Getting Willow to come along had been a matter of applying guilt and thinly veiled threats in liberal amounts, but ultimately she had reluctantly accompanied Buffy to their usual meeting place.
 
“I’ve never tried a locator spell this big before,” Willow admitted. “And anyhow, I thought you guys didn’t want me doing magic anymore,” she added peevishly.
 
“Willow, it’s not the magic that bothered us,” Tara explained patiently. “It was the using it recklessly, and against our will. Here you’d be using it to help someone who genuinely needs this kind of help.”
 
Anya added, “Besides, I think you’re going to need some help with this, so it’s not like you’re sneaking off to erase our memories again or anything.”
 
“Anya, please,” Buffy said. “I’m not interested in bringing up all the same old baggage right now. We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I have a vampire to find. Can you do this or not?”
 
“I can do it,” Willow said reluctantly. “But I’m not sure how exactly I can pinpoint it. I can probably get it narrowed down to the state without too much trouble. But exactly where is tough. It would be easier if I had something that belonged to her to help focus the spell.”
 
Buffy thought for a moment. “Get everything you need together for the spell. I’ll run home and ask Spike if he ever kept anything of hers.” She was out the door before anyone could object.
 
“I guess we need a map,” Tara said as she blinked in the wake of Buffy’s sudden departure.
 
“We’ll need the usual herbs as well,” Anya said, moving toward the jars on the shelves.
 
“Guys, wait. Can we discuss this first?” Willow said. “I’m just not sure it’s such a good idea to do this.”
 
Tara looked searchingly at Willow. “Willow, she’s going to do this thing. If she doesn’t get help from us, she’s going to find it somewhere else. Do you want her to get desperate enough to go seek out Amy for help? Or someone worse?”
 
Willow conjured up the image of Buffy at the mercy of Rack or some demon sorcerer, and shuddered. “She wouldn’t do something like that,” Willow said, sounding less certain than she would have liked.
 
“Are you sure?” Tara asked pointedly.
 
All of a sudden, Willow realized that given the number of things Buffy had been hiding from them in the last few months, anything was possible. With a deep breath she capitulated. “Alright. We’ll find Drusilla.” Still uneasy, she began clearing off the table in preparation.
 
**********************
 
Buffy entered the quiet gloom of Spike’s crypt. She had run home to ask him about whether he had any of Drusilla’s things. After she woke him out of a doze and asked her question, he had hesitated. Then he had told her, “In my crypt. Sarcophagus nearest the windows. Under the bones there’s a metal box. One of her lace gloves is in there.” As she had been leaving he had called her back saying, “Slayer? Can you… can you make sure to hide it safely again? It’s got some mementos I’d hate to lose.” She had never seen him anxious about any possession other than his duster, and it puzzled her. But she readily promised to take good care of it, and had headed off to the crypt.
 
Now she was using her Slayer strength to shove back the heavy stone lid. Wrinkling her nose at the decayed bones in their winding sheets, she picked through the pile until she came upon the box. It was about the size of a shoebox, battered and a bit worse for wear. She pulled it out and sat down in Spike’s armchair to find what she needed. When she opened it, she found it full of all sorts of odds and ends. Tickets from a Sex Pistols concert. Pictures of Spike and Drusilla from a number of eras. A black silk bow tie. Have to ask him about that one. Can’t imagine him in a suit, like, ever. Programs from various plays. A very old sepia toned print of a young man with curly hair and glasses standing behind an elderly woman. She realized with a gasp that it was Spike, or rather William, before he was turned. My God, he looked so different. She assumed the woman was his mother. Wonder if he ate her like Angel did to his family? She studied the image intently. The gentle looking young man staring out from behind the spectacles looked worlds away from the cocky vampire with the bleached hair and the scar across his eyebrow. Yet those cheekbones were the same, and the little smile, and the long fingers. She pondered this mystery for a few more minutes before returning to her task. Finally, near the bottom, she pulled out a black lace glove which was nearly crumbling with age. She wondered if it predated Spike, or had it been something they had acquired during their time together. Resolving to ask him about all these things at a later date, she carefully packed everything back up and returned the box to its hiding place, shoving the cover back to keep everything from prying eyes. Carefully tucking the glove into the inner pocket of her jacket, she made her way back to the Magic Box.
 
When she got there, she found a ‘Closed’ sign on the door, but pushed it open anyway. As she had surmised, the closed sign was to prevent them from being interrupted during the spell. “Oh good, you’re back,” Anya said. “I want to get this spell done so that I can reopen the store in time for the after work crowd.”
 
“Sorry to make you wait,” Buffy apologized. “I have a glove that was Drusilla’s. Careful – it’s pretty old.” She handed the glove to Willow, who carefully placed it in the center of the map. A ring of candles surrounded the table, with a pentagram drawn with herbs across the center of the map.
 
“Well, here goes,” Willow said. “Tara and Anya, do you still want to help?”
 
“Of course,” Tara said. She and Anya joined hands with Willow and stood around the circular table. After concentrating for a few minutes they all chanted together, “Seekers we, let us find, knowledge to fill heart and mind…” The chant went on for a minute or so, but Buffy was hardly listening. She was watching the map instead, hoping desperately for a sign.
 
A glow gradually appeared over the table. The glow grew brighter and brighter, then shrank in size but remained a searing, bright white. It continued shrinking and moving into a corner of the map until it became a pinpoint and stopped. “There,” Buffy breathed. She put her finger on the bright spot and kept it there as the spot grew more intense, then winked out. The other three women blinked and dropped each other’s hands, breathing hard at the effort.
 
“Where is she?” Anya asked.
 
Buffy looked at where her finger was. “Massachusetts. Along the coast. Boston maybe?”
 
Tara peered at the map. “Hard to tell, but Boston seems like the best place to start.”
 
“Okay, but how are you going to find someone who’s psychic if she decides she doesn’t want to be found?” Willow asked. “I mean, you could go all the way across the country and find she’s moved on.” The others fell silent for a moment.
 
“I’ve got it!” Anya said. She went into the basement storeroom and rummaged around for a while, leaving the others to look at each other and shrug in confusion. A few minutes later Anya came back upstairs with two brown stones on chains. “Eyes of garzon!”
 
“What the what?” Buffy asked, none the wiser.
 
“They block psychic abilities. I, um…” Anya suddenly deflated a bit. “I got them as a wedding present from one of my demon friends. They were supposed to protect me and Xander from any psychic attacks.” She held them out to Buffy. “I guess they should get used for something,” she said a little sadly.
 
“Are you sure, Anya?” Buffy asked, mindful of the former demon’s still-hurting psyche.
 
“Yes,” Anya said, straightening up. “I’d rather not have them around as reminders. And they’ll protect you from Drusilla’s thrall as well.”
 
“Thank you, Anya,” Buffy said, taking the Eyes of Garzon from Anya. She placed one around her neck, and the other in her jeans pocket. “Thank you, all of you, for helping me figure out where I need to go.”
 
“But, Buffy, how?” Willow asked. “How are you going to find her, and bring her back here?”
 
“I won’t bring her here,” Buffy explained. “I’ll take Spike with me to go find her.”
 
“You’re just going to take off across the country? What about Dawn? And the hellmouth? And your job?” Willow just couldn’t accept the fact that Buffy was actually going to do this incredibly insane sounding thing.
 
Buffy’s gratitude for Willow’s reluctantly given help was replaced in an instant by renewed irritation. “Thank you, Giles junior,” Buffy spat out sarcastically. “Gosh, however would I remember all my duties if I didn’t have you to remind me constantly? I know what my responsibilities are, and I will make arrangements. But I am taking Spike and going, so learn to deal.” With that Buffy turned and stomped out of the store, slamming the door behind her.
 
“Does that mean I can open back up for business then?” Anya asked. Tara shook her head at Willow, who stared after the departing Slayer in stunned silence.
 
*****************
 
“Massachusetts?” Spike said. “Don’t know as we ever went there way back when.”
 
Buffy was once more sitting next to Spike. She was munching a sandwich and drinking a soda, after Spike had refused to even speak to her until she got some food. She was growing pale, and seemed thinner than normal, and it worried him. “Any idea why she’d go there?” Buffy asked between bites.
 
“It’s old,” Spike surmised. “Well, as old as you get for the States at any rate. She always had a preference for old places. She claimed she could hear the whispers of people who had come and gone. Old places had more voices to talk to, I guess.”
 
“Why did you come to Sunnydale then?” Buffy wondered.
 
“Only to find the poof to cure her,” Spike said. “I liked it well enough. Decent bars, good radio stations, California girls not wearin’ much – I had no problem with it. But she was always uneasy in wide open places. She liked dark streets and old houses – places with some history, you know?” Spike closed his eyes for a moment, lost in memories.
 
Buffy looked at him intently. How could it have been to spend an entire century with someone, care for her, risk life and limb to cure her, and then have her throw you over for someone else the second she had the chance? “Do you ever still miss her?” Buffy asked quietly.
 
Spike opened his eyes and looked at her with one raised eyebrow. “Jealous, love?”
 
“I guess it just occurred to me how much it must have sucked to be dumped by someone you spent so much time with,” Buffy said. “I mean, I was pretty messed up when Angel left, and I had hardly known him three years. You and Drusilla spent, what, a century together? How did you survive that?”
 
Spike laughed, a short, ironic chuckle. “Same way I survive everything. Lots of whiskey, cigarettes, and random violence.”
 
“Makes me wish I could hold my liquor,” Buffy commented. “All I’ve got is the random violence, and it doesn’t always do the trick.” She finished off her soda and continued, “I guess all this isn’t helping us plan our trip, is it?”
 
“Buffy, this is one hell of an undertaking,” Spike said doubtfully. “I don’t fancy putting you at risk to save my sorry skin.”
 
“Too bad,” Buffy said firmly. “I’m saving your sorry skin whether it wants to be saved or not. So you can participate in the planning or I’ll nail you into a coffin like a good vampire and ship you air freight.”
 
Spike raised his hands as best he could in surrender. “Fine, you bossy bint. How are we doing this?”
 
“Well, I’m assuming a plane is out,” Buffy said. “I mean, even if we took a night flight, any delays or problems and you’re at risk of being a pile of dust on the seat next to me.”
 
“Train could work,” Spike mused. “But we’d have to get a sleeper compartment.”
 
“Those can be pricey,” Buffy said. “Mom looked into that once for some vacation. Ended up being a lot cheaper to fly. Plus if we had to change trains somewhere random then we’ve got that dusting problem again.”
 
“It’s starting to look like a road trip is in order,” Spike observed.
 
“I guess if we drive at night, sleep during the day, that will work,” Buffy agreed. “You’re probably in no shape to drive, huh?”
 
“Afraid not,” Spike answered dejectedly.
 
“I can drive, but I’ll let you know now, I’m pretty terrible at it. I mean, you might want to risk dying from the watais root rather than get in a car with me. Full disclosure.”
 
Spike smirked and said, “I’m already dead, remember? How much more can you kill me in a car wreck? Besides, you’ll do fine. At night, fewer people on the roads, no one to notice your mishaps.”
 
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Buffy said. “I almost forgot. I have a present for you.” She fished out the eye of garzon from her pocket and passed it to him. “It guards against psychic attacks. If we wear them, it will be less likely that Drusilla will know we’re coming.”
 
Spike reached out and took the chain from her, getting it over his neck with a little effort. “Not exactly my style, but not a bad idea. Not sure how much she’s already seen, though.”
 
“Since there’s no way of knowing that, I’m not going to worry about it,” Buffy declared. She stood up and gathered up the leavings of her lunch. “I’m going to start making arrangements. Later on, I’m coming back down and you are having a good dinner. The stronger you get, the easier it’s going to be for you to travel.”
 
“Yes, ma’am,” Spike said with mock meekness. Buffy rolled her eyes at him and headed upstairs. She dealt with her dishes and then sat down to plan. Money was going to be a bit of an issue, but she had been jealously guarding her one credit card for emergencies. Since this clearly constituted an emergency, she decided she was going to charge first, and deal with the bills later. She made a mental note to see if Spike had any money to contribute to this adventure. Picking up the phone, she called the Doublemeat Palace to speak to her manager. She spun a tale about having to care for her father in L.A., who was recovering from emergency surgery, and asked if there was any chance of getting her job back when she returned. The manager wouldn’t guarantee anything, but said Buffy would be welcome to stop by on her return to see if there were any openings. Buffy decided that would have to do, and thanked the manager politely. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to find something different when I come back and say farewell to Steve and the smell of fry grease forever. That thought lifted her spirits considerably, and she continued with her preparations. Their mother’s car was still in their driveway, which saved her having to rent something. She would need a cooler, and maybe a big blanket to cover Spike with in case they had to do something in the daytime. Mentally running through her checklist she thought, I guess that covers every item on the list except one.
 
“I’m home!” Dawn called as she came clattering into the kitchen, plopping her bag on the counter. “Any news on the Spike front?”
 
“Hey, Dawnie,” Buffy said. “Actually, I do have some news. Sit down so we can discuss.” Dawn grabbed an apple out of the fridge and sat down across from her sister. “Willow and Tara did a locator spell. Drusilla’s somewhere in Massachusetts.”
 
“How are we going to get there?” Dawn asked.
 
“We are not going,” Buffy explained. “Spike and I are going, and you are staying here.”
 
“What? I can’t come with?” Dawn cried. “Spike’s my friend. I’m the one who was taking care of him!”
 
“Dawn, I know,” Buffy said. “But Drusilla is scary dangerous. As it is I’m not exactly sure how we’re going to find her and how this is all going to work. But I’m going to have enough on my hands dealing with Spike without worrying about you as well. Plus, you do have that whole school thing as well.”
 
“Who’s going to take care of me?” Dawn wondered.
 
“Who do you want to take care of you?”
 
Dawn thought for a while. “Do you think I could go to Tara’s?”
 
“If it’s okay with Tara, I suppose,” Buffy said. “Or if Tara wants to stay here, if it’s not too weird with Willow that is. I’ll talk to her later.”
 
Dawn bit her lip uneasily. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
 
“Hopefully only a couple of weeks,” Buffy said. “Not really sure though.”
 
Dawn’s voice got very quiet as she said, “What if you don’t come back?” She looked up at her sister with tear filled eyes.
 
Buffy got up and went over to pull her sister into an embrace. “It’s okay, Dawnie. I’ll come back to you. I always come back, remember?” Dawn clutched her close, praying with all her might that it would be true again.
 
*******************
 
The next morning found Buffy in the kitchen, working on various preparations. The previous night she had gone to Spike’s crypt after patrol to gather up spare clothes for him. She had also brought his memory box home and hidden it carefully in a corner of the attic, safe from prying eyes. Spike had had a good long draught of Slayer blood, after which Buffy slept like a rock for ten hours. This morning her Slayer healing had kicked in, and coupled with the urgency of needing to set out on her quest she was moving with frenetic energy. She heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was Tara, who had said she would stop by to discuss arrangements, she yelled, “Come in!” without removing her head from the refrigerator.
 
“Hey Buffster,” came Xander’s voice behind her.
 
Shit. Just what I need. Controlling her emotions she turned around to greet Xander. “Good morning. What’s up?”
 
“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered, looking around at the cooler and the pile of snacks, stakes, and assorted other odds and ends piling up on the counter.
 
Buffy grabbed a few ice packs out of the freezer and tossed them in the cooler as she said, “Spike and I are taking a road trip.” She continued her packing without particularly looking at Xander.
 
Xander grabbed her arm to stop her. “Buffy, why are you doing this? This is nuts.”
 
“Because I care about him, Xander,” Buffy replied, tugging her arm out of his grasp and going back to what she was doing. “Because he risks an awful lot of crap to help me and I owe him one. I owe him several, in fact.”
 
“He only helps out because he thinks it will help him get into your pants,” Xander said bluntly. “He’s got no soul, Buffy, remember?”
 
Without pausing in her movements she said, “He was helping me before he got into my pants, as you so elegantly put it. And even after I dumped him he didn’t turn on me, or murder my friends, or anything like that. He helps because he wants to, for whatever reason. I don’t see the need to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
 
Xander’s mouth had dropped open so wide that he looked comical. “You slept with him?” he cried.
 
“Yes, Xander. Although I’m not exactly sure how that is any of your business whatsoever,” Buffy retorted. “You were sleeping with an ex-demon and no one said anything.”
 
“But Anya’s human! Spike’s a vampire for God’s sake!”
 
“Wow, after all these years you can recognize a vampire. Good for you, Xander,” Buffy snapped. Slamming down the box of protein bars she had in her hand she spun to face him. “What do you want from me Xander? Do you want me to throw myself on one of my own stakes? Take myself to the Watcher’s council and ask them to punish me? Why, exactly, are you here?”
 
“I thought we were friends, Buffy! That’s why I’m here!” Xander exploded.
 
“So is this what friends do now? Judge each other’s sex lives?” Buffy yelled.
 
“Only when their choice of sex partner puts me at risk!” Xander yelled back.
 
“How are you at risk? He can’t hurt you with the chip. The only person he can hurt is me, and he doesn’t.”
 
“Wait, he can hurt you, and you’re going to travel cross country to cure him? The hell?”
 
“Xander, get out,” Buffy snapped. “I’ve had it. My life, okay? I need to help him. Not asking your permission, and I really don’t give a flying fuck if you understand my reasons or not. If you want to help, you can help the others keep Dawn safe while I’m gone. Otherwise, feel free to go your merry way. Oh, yeah,” Buffy added angrily. “No need to go behind my back and talk to Giles either. I already talked to him, and he’s going to have to learn to deal too.”
 
Xander was completely at a loss. Buffy had been either despondent or going along with whatever for so long that he had forgotten what angry, determined Buffy looked like. Angry, determined Buffy was frightening and bewildering, and he shook his head saying, “Buffy, what happened to you? We were a team. We were practically a family. What happened?”
 
“Life, and a bunch of other stuff,” Buffy replied. “Xander, I don’t want to fight with you. Truly. But I am not changing my mind. Accept, or move on.”
 
“I can’t support you in this, Buffy. You’re putting yourself at risk for…”
 
“For a person I care about,” she finished quietly. “You would do the same. Even for Anya. Even now.”
 
Xander opened his mouth to reply, but in the end he could say nothing. With a sudden jolt he realized that she was right. He would do something like this for Anya, even after the messy breakup. “I’m… gonna go now,” he said lamely. He turned and left without another word. He got in his car and sat there, drinking everything in for a few minutes before slowly driving off. Watching from the window, Buffy let out a long breath. Even if I didn’t have a vampire to cure, I’m just about ready for a vacation from all this drama. She turned away from the window and went back to her preparations.