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Chapter 10
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"Angel’s a vampire?" Willow was as pale as one herself when Buffy related her encounter of the previous night.

Buffy nodded in affirmation. "He says he has a soul and is fighting the good fight." Looking at Giles, she asked, "Can a vampire ever be a good person?"

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "A vampire isn’t a person at all. I’ve explained this to you before. It may have the movements, the memories and even the personality of the person it murdered and took over, but it is still a demon at the core. There is no halfway."

"So that’d be a ‘no’ then?" Willow added.

"Well, I think he’ll turn up again anyway. My telling him I already had a boyfriend didn’t stop him from kissing me," Buffy predicted. "What about that whole soul thing, Giles? Do any of your books say anything about a vampire with a soul?"

Giles had been researching ever since Buffy first told her story. "Did you say Angel had a large tattoo on his shoulder blade?" At Buffy’s nod, he asked, "What was it, precisely?"

"Some bird kinda thing with a big A," she replied.

"Like the Budweiser emblem with the eagle and the big B?" Xander saw Willow’s eyes open wide at the question. "What? My dad drinks Bud. I grew up seeing the cans."

"No, not like that," Buffy answered as she peered over Giles’ shoulder to the book he had just opened. "Like THAT," she said and pointed at a sketch in the tome.

"This illustration is the tattoo on a rather notorious vampire named Angelus, ‘the one with the angelic face’. There is a mention that he was sired some two hundred years ago in Ireland."

"I guess they could say he has a pretty face," Buffy said. "Wow, over two hundred, huh! Well, he did say he was older. What else does that book say about him?"

"It would appear that Angelus…er, Angel…left Ireland after killing his family and destroying most of his village, only to wreak havoc in Europe for the bulk of his recorded history," Giles read ahead. "Oh, yes, that could explain his presence in Sunnydale at this time!"

"What is it, Giles? How about some current events instead of ancient history?" Xander had perked up at the revelation that Angel was probably just dust in the making.

Giles looked at the boy briefly before continuing. "This Angelus was sired by Darla. He’s an Aurelian; he was part of a family of vampires that plagued the Continent in the 1800s, the ‘scourge of Europe’. History loses track of his movements around the turn of the century, when he appears to have come to America. No records of his hunting while here.
Curious! According to this chronicler, it appears that Angel, as he now called himself, began to shun humanity and other vampires, becoming something of a hermit."

Willow looked hopeful. "So he could be a good vampire! I mean on a scale of one to ten with ten being someone who’s killing every night and one being someone who’s….not."

Giles closed the book and looked at the group with a grim expression. "There is no record, but vampires hunt and kill. It is what they do. As for the soul issue, the book does not reference such a thing. However, now that I am aware just who he is, I can further the research."

Buffy looked pensive as she listened. She replayed her various meetings with the odd vampire and said, "He could have fed on me, but he didn’t. Maybe there’s something to this whole soul thing we should check out."

Xander raised his hand as if in class and asked, "A hundred years or so before he came to our shores, what was he like then?"

"Well, like all of them, he was a vicious, violent animal. Judging by the nicknames he helped earn, I’d venture a guess he was rather more brutal and cunning than most."

"So Buffster, need some help with the stakage?" Xander looked a trifle too willing to help out.

"I think I’ll concentrate on the vamps I know I have to deal with and wait on Angel. He has helped us out from time to time. I’d like to know more about how a vamp can be so unvamplike. This whole soul thing might be important." Buffy looked startled as the bell rang to announce the next class period. "Well, back to the other Ancient History for now."


~~~

Spike lay awake thinking over all the details he needed to take care of in this new timeline. He’d have to deal with the Poof before accidentally running into the sodding bastard and having the truth come out in a less than flattering way. There was Dru to deal with as well. She was ailing and in need of care but still capable of creating havoc, especially if she decided to join him here in Sunnyhell.

Spike had already decided he was going to make the most of this second chance at reliving the last few years and he’d be damned if he’d let either his sire or grandsire bugger things up for him.

After talking to Buffy on the telephone for at least an hour and waiting for the sun to lower sufficiently, Spike headed off to put out some possible fires.

The look on Angel’s face was priceless when he opened his door and came face to face with Spike for the first time since the 40s. "Spike!" Angel always had a way of saying that name
that sounded like he was spitting with rage. "What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Dru?"

"How do, Gramps." Spike pushed his way through and into the spartan apartment. "See, those are the very things I need to talk to you about."

"Do come in, Spike," Angel said unnecessarily and with a look of exasperation.

"Thanks. Already did. You blind or just forget you’re a vamp like me?" Spike smirked at the look on his grandsire’s face.

"You are nothing like me, Spike! I have a soul. I am not evil. I don’t kill people." Angel moved across the room and indicated a chair for Spike as he leaned against the wall near his weapons closet.

"Got that right! Never was like you and proud of it," Spike replied. "Only part you got wrong is that I don’t eat people anymore either."

"Right," Angel scoffed. "Just woke up one day and said, ‘I think I’ll stop hunting and killing humans and live off butcher’s blood’. I don’t think so."

"Details a bit off, but pretty close in some ways. Happened overnight, yeah, and got me an account at the butcher’s; feel free to check since I know you’re gonna anyway." Spike was fingering the Chinese statue on the table next to him without looking up at Angel as he spoke.

Angel narrowed his eyes at his grandchilde. "What game are you playing, Spike?"

"No game. Changing my unlife, pops. Gonna make somethin’ of myself, somethin’ more than just a successful killer." Spike ignored the snort of laughter that greeted that announcement. "Got no soul but think I can handle it with the right motivation.
Worked so far and now I have other reasons to keep me on the straight and narrow that are none of your business."

"Let’s assume for the moment that I can put aside my skepticism and I’m sure you know I don’t believe your little tale. Why are you here, Spike, to annoy me to death?" Angel wasn’t buying a thing the younger vampire said but would wait to check out his story until later. Meanwhile, he wanted to know what had caused the little prick to show up on his
doorstep.

"’M really here ‘bout Dru. She’s worse than ever and needs her daddy, at least her daddy’s blood. Dozy bint’s not gonna make it without you." Spike looked at Angel with a challenge in his
eye.

"And I should care….why?" Angel stood stiffly, his entire being radiating self-righteousness.

Spike raised a brow and gave a short, sardonic laugh. "Funny you should ask. Really funny actually, you pompus wanker." Angel moved away from the wall a bit but didn’t interrupt. "You go on and on ‘bout that shiny soul of yours. ‘Bout how terrible you feel over what evil you did. ‘Spect that includes my wicked plum, eh? Funny how you never did a thing to
‘fix’ the mess you made with her when you got that soul. Spent another twenty years travelin’ with us and ignored the girl like you always did unless you wanted to use her. Interestin’ soul you got there not to be wantin’ to help the chit you destroyed."

Angel glowered at Spike even as he inwardly squirmed in discomfort. "You know nothing about it! My soul plagues me with guilt every moment of every day. I’m choking in blood and buried in bodies. You think I don’t regret what I did to Dru? You have no idea."

Spike narrowed his eyes and looked at his grandsire in derision. "So your soul says to sit around and FEEL bad about it! That’s the way you deal with the guilt? The girl can’t even feed herself properly. Needs care all the time. Always did need someone to watch out for her; that’s why you lot let me be, don’t think I don’t know it. I took her off your hands.
Been a century, mate, now I’m ready to hand her back to
you where she belongs. It’s where she wants to be anyway and since she’s your mess, it should be you cleanin’ it up." Spike got up and headed towards the door, stopping to hand a paper to Angel. "Here’s where she’s stayin’. Time you used that soul for somethin’ more than an excuse to not walk in the sunlight." With that, Spike left, smiling at the memory of his own sunlit picnics and walks with Buffy.

~~~

Spike’s next mission was one he had argued with himself over all day before deciding to just do it. He knocked on the Watcher’s door, hoping the git was already indulging his later habit of knocking back a couple of single malts and reading a bit before bed. Spike also hoped Giles had his weapons stash in the same place he did when Spike was his reluctant
roommate.

The door opened and Spike smelled the sherry wood matured malt of The Macallan the Watcher had evidently opened from his small collection of the good stuff. "Evenin’, Giles. Like to come in and speak with you a bit."

Giles had put back more than a couple tonight; the whole issue of a vampire getting as close to his Slayer as Angel had done was unnerving to him. Giles had limited contact with the creature, true, but he was horrified that he had not realized Angel was a vampire and a threat. "I’m not in the habit of issuing invitations, as you can well imagine. Seeing as though
you’ve had more time in the sun lately than I have, I’ll make an exception in this case. Come in, Spike, I’ve been wanting a chance to have a talk with you."

Spike stepped through the doorway and grinned secretly at the Watcher’s narrow viewpoint. Paranoia only was useful when it was thorough. Relying only on established vampire data culled from the Council’s libraries had allowed Giles to miss out on the Poof being a vamp and even now prevented the Watcher from
accepting the vibes Spike KNEW he must be feeling!

Spike took a seat on the chest he remembered Giles using to store his assortment of stakes and crossbows and asked, "Feel up to a bit of hospitality, mate. Could use one of those you’ve been puttin’ down."

Giles went into his small kitchen and poured two glasses of more inferior whiskey and handed one to his unexpected guest.

"What can I do for you, Spike?" Giles wondered idly if the young man had gotten wind of his inquiries and was there to confront him.

This was it, the moment of truth. "Ever heard of the Gem of Amara, mate?" Spike watched for a reaction.

Giles searched his whiskey-addled memory and landed on a vague reference he had once read of such a thing. "Some artifact of legend, as I recall. A sort of nearly holy relic to vampires with magical properties that makes a vampire impossible to kill, I believe." Giles looked at the newcomer intensely. "Are you telling me this thing exists?"

"Livin’ proof…or rather, unliving." Spike watched for the meaning behind that to sink in. At the look of dawning horror, Spike continued, "No need to panic, Watcher, not here to hurt you. Not here to hurt anyone. Might say I’ve turned over a new leaf. Got me an idea. Came from you actually, even though you haven’t said it yet."

If what Spike said was true and Giles properly understood his meaning, there was little or nothing Giles could do to protect himself from vampire attack, so he sat down and let Spike continue.

"Best start at the beginning, yeah?" Spike took a deep breath and decided to just spell it all out. Well, maybe not the part about his original motive in making that wish. Wouldn’t do for Buffy to ever know he had given thought to killin’ her.

Over the next hour and a full bottle of cheap whiskey, Spike explained about making a wish and his coming from a future time. He told of retrieving the Gem again, although he didn’t let the Watcher have a clue what it looked like or where it might be on his person. Trust only went so far.

Giles demanded to know just why Spike was supposedly planning to work on the side of good in the great supernatural struggle. "I haven’t noticed a significant rise in the number of vampiric deaths since your arrival. Am I to assume you haven’t gone on a rampage, especially now that you are to all
intents and purposes unkillable?"

"First, let’s just prove what I’m sayin’. Got a stake I’m not sittin’ on?" Spike smiled as Giles rightly understood why Spike had chosen to sit where he had. Giles nodded. "Go get it then. What say we prove I’m leavin’ undusty, okay with you?"

"You are wanting me to stake you?" Giles was confused.

"Yeah. No…well, want to prove ‘m no liar anyway. Not wantin’ to put a period to my existence, but, yeah, I want you to stake me. Go on! Here’s your chance! Trust me, the future you would jump at it," Spike smiled.

Giles went to his bedroom loft and retrieved the stake he kept near where he slept. Spike was still sitting on the chest,
calmly awaiting his return. When Giles drew near, Spike rose and lifted his shirt. "Don’t want to go ruinin’ a perfectly good shirt."

The stake went in deep and true, but the wound closed up immediately after Giles removed the stake. Spike’s chest remained as pristine as it had been before the wood plunged in.

Giles sat down hard and reached for the bottle, no longer bothering with a glass. "Apparently this Gem is not merely a legend."

"No more than I am." Spike had looked at the book on the Watcher’s table while Giles went for the useless stake upstairs. Now he leafed to the appropriate page and turned the book to face Giles. "Got plenty of wrong information there, but I think
you’ll recognize me. Haven’t seen myself in a mirror in a hundred years or so, but I don’t think I’ve changed much."

Giles looked over the article on William the Bloody and his consort Drusilla with growing apprehension. If even half the facts were true, then two of the most dangerous vampires outside of the Master were now in close proximity to his Slayer. This one she even considered her boyfriend.

Spike clued Giles into the situation with Dru and his previous house call to Angel. "Don’t know if the wanker has the balls to assume responsibility now or not, but ball’s in his court. Don’t need to worry ‘bout Dru anyway. If her daddy don’t keep her away, I will."

Giles wasn’t too sure if he should be relieved or not. Spike had confirmed the story about Angel having a soul, however. It was glaringly obvious that the Council was severely underinformed.

"You mentioned that you hadn’t noticed lots more dead
bodies since I’ve been a resident." Giles just stared at the vampire and took another deep swallow of whiskey. "That’s ‘cause I’m on the ‘all pig, all the time’ diet. Got me an account with the butcher on 5th street, if you’ve a mind to check." At Giles’ disbelieving look, Spike took another deep breath and
decided to reveal more.

"I admit the diet change wasn’t my idea at first. Best tell you ‘bout the little government project they’re likely building underground as we speak." Spike proceeded to tell Giles about his capture and chipping by the Initiative and how he had turned to Buffy and her Watcher for his survival. "So, see,
you’re the one first said there might be some higher purpose for the chip."

"So you are saying that the reason you aren’t killing nightly is a computer chip in your head?"

"No, I’m saying I’m not eatin’ the locals because I don’t want to. Chip showed me another way, not that I’m glad the buggers got me, mind. Hurts like a bastard when it goes off and damned inconvenient when a human needs beingput in his place without a migraine. I could have had another vamp,
say Dru, do the huntin’ and killin’ and kept at it, couldn’t I?"

Giles pondered the sorts of options Spike would have had and nodded in agreement in the end. "I suppose there is some free will choice involved by your not feeding off of humans now, yes."

"Damn right! Make my own fate, I do." Spike looked indignant.

"So this wish of yours that landed you here, I assume it had something to do with Buffy?" Giles was now quite sober, no matter how much had been consumed.

"Let’s just say that the Slayer and I had a bit of a misunderstandin’ thanks to one of Willow’s spells goin’ bad." Giles looked up, startled at that. "Yeah, need to get the witchlet from trainin’ before she makes a real mess of things again. Red’s got a gift but no control.

"Anyway, back to the question you asked. I was bit put out with the Slayer and spoutin’ off at Willie’s. This wish-grantin’ demon overheard me and, boom, here I am." Spike could see Giles trying to decide just how much to believe of what he was hearing.

"Look, I said something about wishin’ I could start over ... in a way. Not those exact words maybe, but that was my point. Come back do things right even earlier." Spike felt it was close enough to the truth, at least now that Spike better knew his heart. He had never wanted to kill Buffy, maybe even that first time. His words may have made it sound that way as he wished it, but his heart never was in it.

Spike rose and decided to let the Watcher digest what he’d heard tonight before going further.

"Look, I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you deal with what I’ve said and check what you want. I’ll answer questions later if you’ve got ‘em." Spike dared to hope the Watcher would play straight with him. "Leave it up to you to decide what to tell Buffy. I want to do it myself in my own time and
would appreciate it if you let that happen. You may not believe me, but everything between the Slayer and me is real. I realized that I love her. Won’t do a thing to hurt her and will do my best to help and protect her. Make her the oldest Slayer ever by fightin’ at her side. I’d like it if you’d give me the benefit of the doubt."

"For all I know, the only reason you haven’t ripped my throat out is that chip you say you have," Giles spat.

"Chip wouldn’t let me, true, but the reason you’re still drawin’ breath isn’t the silicone and wires. You took me in when I was starvin’. We were never mates, but I don’t wish you ill. Buffy loves you and that’s enough for me."

"Vampires can’t love," Giles began only to have Spike cut him off.

"Like hell! You get that from those books of yours?" Giles nodded firmly. "Lots of crap in them. This one here says Dru’s dust, but trust me when I say you don’t want me producin’ her to prove that wrong. We can love just fine and do lots more than you credit if we’ve got a reason. Buffy’s my reason. Watch and learn. Try being a good scholar instead of a puppet that just talks the party line!"

Spike headed home in a frenzy of conflicting emotions. He hoped Giles wouldn’t say a thing to Buffy at this point but feared he would immediately run to her with the truth. He prayed that the Watcher would come around, Angel would take on Dru’s problems and that all the bright tomorrows he had started to dream of might still be possible. But deep down he knew he had never been that lucky.