Adversaries: Part 2

“Thanks for helping me carry this stuff, Will. This was a bad time to suffer major car breakage.”

“No problem.” She adjusted the box of books on her hip. “Are you going to be able to fix it?”

Xander nodded. “Yep. Got the part on order.”

“You can build stuff, you can fix stuff. You are just…the renaissance of stuff.”

“I’m betting that’s a good thing.”

Willow nodded and smiled at him fondly, glad that her friend had finally found his niche and glad that he had found someone to care about, especially now that she and Anya had made peace. The ex-demon still wouldn’t have been her first choice of girlfriend for Xander, but Willow accepted that she wouldn’t hurt him. She was still better than Cordelia, and much better than Faith.

They threaded the dark streets of Sunnydale in companionable silence, carrying the boxes of books that due to some kind of Post Office black magic, had ended up at Giles’ house instead of the Magic Box. Xander had planned to bring them in his car, but it had developed some sort of car-like symptom, so they were hoofing it. She would meet Tara there, a thought that brought the usual flare of happiness.

Now, if I could only do something about Buffy, Willow thought with an inward sigh. The Slayer was being extremely bright and chipper these days, throwing herself into college and training, never mentioning Riley, but Willow could tell that her friend was unhappy.

She had liked Riley. His apparent stability had seemed a good foil for the sometimes impulsive Slayer, but he couldn’t handle not being needed. Although Buffy did need him, she thought. She just needed him for other things than he wanted to be needed for. If that made any sense, which probably it didn’t.

He didn’t want her to always be strong around him, but he hadn’t realized that when Buffy was being…unstrong…she didn’t reach out, she ran off and hid. Or she hit something. You had to hang around until she crawled out of whatever cave she'd dug or be willing to drag her out yourself.

Willow’s thoughts were interrupted by Spike stepping out of an alley into their path. He stood in front of them, hands in pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Hey,” she said politely. Even though he was a vampire and had tried to kill her more than once, she'd always felt a little bad for Spike. It must be hard not to be allowed to be what you were, even if what you were was evil.

He was looking cheerier than usual. Ever since the chip, there had been an air of frustrated anger about the vampire. Tonight, the anger seemed to have been replaced by excitement or anticipation. His hard mouth wore an unfamiliar smile and the pale blue eyes gleamed.

“Evening, Willow. Xander. Lovely night for a stroll, isn’t it?” His smile broadened and a chill touched her spine. He can’t hurt anyone, she reminded herself nervously. Chip or not, she suddenly wanted very much to be elsewhere.

Xander didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “Yes, pleasant weather we’ve been having,” he said sarcastically. “And how about those Yankees? These boxes are kind of heavy, Spike,” he added, “So unless you want to help carry, I think we’ll be moving on.”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, stepping to the side with a sweeping bow. “I wouldn’t dream of keeping you. But I wonder, could I have a moment of your valuable time to field-test a theory?”

“Come on, Xander,” Willow said in a voice that was almost steady. Fear was growing inside her, but she made herself meet Spike’s gaze. “We need to get to the Magic Box. They’re expecting us.”

“Are they now?” Spike said softly. “Don’t worry, Pet. This won’t take long.”

“What the hell are you doing, Spike?” Xander said angrily. Almost unconsciously, he moved so that he was between the vampire and Willow. “I don’t know what kind of game you’ve got going, but leave…”

Spike’s fist caught him between one word and the next.

“Xander!” Willow screamed as he flew through the air from the force of the blow to crash into a lamppost then slump unconscious to the ground. She could have run, but there was no way she was leaving her best friend to the vampire.

Maybe she could blind him, drive him away. “Fiat L…”

And then he was on her, vampire features replacing the human ones, one hand clamped over her mouth and the other arm locked around her waist as he drug her into the alley.

He shoved her up against the wall. “I don’t think so, little witch. Not tonight.” He leaned his body into hers, and she could feel his arousal pressing into her. One hand trapped her wrists behind her back, the other remained firm over her mouth. “The pouf wasn’t lying, so tonight’s my night to howl.”

I’m going to die, she thought dazedly. Wicca taught that death was nothing to fear, merely a transition from one plane to the next. Whoever wrote that probably didn’t have a vampire an inch from their throat.

Fangs grazed her neck and a horrible thought crossed her mind. Willow wailed behind his hand then tried desperately to speak.

Spike straightened. “Last request? Want to beg for your life? Never let it be said I wouldn’t oblige a lady.” He raised his hand a bare inch from her lips and smiled into her eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“Please, Spike,” she whispered. “Just kill me. Don’t…don’t change me.” She felt the tears start rolling down her cheeks, but this was more important than pride. “I don’t want to kill anybody,” she choked. “I don’t want Buffy to have to kill me. And please don’t hurt Xander.”

They stared at each other for an endless moment. He didn’t move or loosen his grip, but a shudder ran through him, and it was suddenly Spike’s human face near hers.

He looked away from her, and she didn’t dare to speak or move or barely to breathe. Then, his head snapped back around, vampire features once more in place.

“Tell the Slayer I’m back,” he growled just before his fangs sank into her neck. There was pain for an instant as the flesh tore then, as he started to drink, something very like pleasure washed over her, making her arch against him despite herself.

Don’t drink, don’t drink, Willow told herself frantically. Just die. Tara, I love you.

Then Spike was gone, leaving her with a sore and bleeding neck and the sound of his footsteps echoing in her ears.

-----
And one, and two, and kick, and punch, and I’m tired of training, and three, and four, and when is this session going to be over? Ever since the Watcher Council’s attempt at an audit, Giles had been a bear about training, although fortunately, he’d given up the attempts at Japanese. Buffy had honestly thought he said ‘throw the axe’ rather than ‘roundhouse kick’, but his near decapitation had made him decide to continue their sessions in English.

Still, the extra training had the advantage of keeping her mind off things, so she didn’t really mind. If you were completely exhausted, Buffy found, you didn’t have time to snivel in your bed over your alarming lack of a personal life before you went to sleep.

She was preparing for another round on the hapless tackling dummy when she heard Tara scream “Willow!” She was out of the training room and into the store before the cry finished registering on her ears.

She looked around, but Willow wasn’t in sight. Tara was on her feet, staring wild-eyed straight ahead into nothing.

“Tara,” Buffy moved in front her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Willow?”

A shudder ran over the pale-haired witch. “I don’t know where she is. Something attacked her. She thought she was dying.”

She heard Giles’ breath suck in.

Oh, please, no. Not Willow. I can’t take it. “Is she dead?” Buffy managed.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Xander was with her,” Anya said sharply. “Is he all right?”

Tara shook her head, shivering uncontrollably. “I don’t know. I just heard Willow tell me goodbye.”

“They were coming from my apartment. They should be somewhere between here and there,” Giles said in a voice that tried to be calm and failed miserably.

“I’ll find them.” Buffy caught up a stake and headed for the door, not even realizing that she was still barefoot from training.

The phone rang, and they all dived for it, Slayer ability putting Buffy ahead of the rest by a hair.

“Hello?”

“Buffy?” a tremulous voice came out of the phone.

“Will. Thank God.” She hit the speaker button, so Anya wouldn’t start trying to wrestle her for the phone. “Tara said something happened. Are you guys all right?”

“I think so. Xander might have a concussion. I’ve called an ambulance.”

A mixture of “Where are you?” and “What happened?” howled out of four voices at once.

“We’re in the Bronze.” Willow said, starting to sound calmer at the familiar Scooby dynamics. “Spike attacked us.”

“Spike?” Something shot through her on a level so deep that she hadn't known it existed until that moment. It felt like pain. Buffy found herself suddenly leaning on the counter. “How could he attack you? What about the chip?”

“It must not work anymore. He knocked Xander out. And he…bit… me.”

“He bit you?” I have to stop repeating everything she says, Buffy thought distantly. I sound like some kind of extremely gothic parrot.

“He said to tell you he was back. I have to go. The ambulance is here.”

“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” she managed and hung up.

Pain was replaced by rage. Spike was back, was he? And he'd issued a challenge to her, fired a warning shot. What next?

Fear left no room for rage, pain, or anything else. She caught up the phone again, stabbing at the speed dial.

“Buffy?” her Watcher asked worriedly.

“Giles, he’s been in my house,” she choked. “Spike has been in my house!”

“Hello?”

“Mom!” she almost screamed into the phone. “Are you and Dawn ok?”

“Yes,” Joyce sounded surprised, then alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Her knees went weak with relief, but they weren’t safe yet. “Is Spike there?”

“No, I haven’t seen him. What’s going on?”

“He's attacking people again.”

“Are you sure?” Joyce asked. “He seemed pretty friendly the last time we saw him. I thought you were working together. You left us with him for protection.”

And I’ll never forgive myself for that. “Mom, he gave Xander a concussion, and he bit Willow.”

“Oh, dear Lord. Are they all right?”

“I think so. I’m on my way home. Keep Dawn with you. I’ll be there in a few.”

She hung up, shaking with relief and turned to see Giles with his car keys out and her shoes in his hand.

“Giles, will you take Tara and Anya to the hospital after you drop me off?” Buffy asked, thrusting her feet into her sneakers.

“Of course.”

Tara began to grab items off the shelves. “I’m going in with you.” She smiled faintly at the Slayer’s surprised expression. “Willow’s ok for now. I can reseal your house against Spike, so he can’t get back in.”

Overwhelmed at the gesture, Buffy hugged Tara speechlessly. “Then I’ll go with you while you do the rest of our places. Let’s go. But Giles, please go to the hospital. I need you to guard Willow and Xander.”

“Right.” He had slung a loaded crossbow at his waist. As Buffy watched, he belted on his trench-coat, concealing the weapon. Giles met her gaze, and although he smiled at her faintly, his eyes were those of the Ripper.

As they ran for the car, she said, “Just be careful not to shoot any of the hospital staff.”

-----
They sped through the night. Buffy stared out the window, willing the car to go faster, although she knew an encounter with the police would only delay them more.

Images whirled through her mind.

Fights to the death. Blows she had struck that he couldn’t return. Pieces of money fluttering to the ground.

“You think we’re dancing?”
“It’s all we’ve ever done.”

“You’re beneath me.”

“What’s wrong? Can I help?”

“You’re the only one strong enough to protect them.”

What had she done? Had she forgotten what Spike was? What he was capable of? That he’d tried to kill her as soon as he thought the neurologist had removed his chip? That he’d almost driven her friends apart with a few well-chosen words?

Had she actually begun to trust him? Had some part of her started enjoying their banter? It was kind of sexy after all, wasn’t it? Playing with fire. Teasing death.

She had seen admiration in his eyes a few times. He had tried to kiss her, been interested in the fact that she was naked that night in her bedroom. Oh, she had turned him away in anger and disgust, but maybe there had been just a little vanity there, a little pleasure at his interest. Spike was right. They had been dancing.

Not any more.

“What?” Giles asked, and Buffy realized she had spoken the last words aloud.

“Nothing,” she said.

Giles tried to smile. “It will be all right, Buffy,” he said gently. “We can stop him.”

She nodded, glad that the darkness hid her burning face. At least he didn't know. He’d had a hard enough time accepting Angel. None of them must never know what she had been capable of. They thought she was a good person. Not someone who could be attracted, even for an instant, even on the basest level to a creature like Spike.

Had Riley known? Had he seen this darkness in her? Was that why he left?

Buffy's throat tightened, and she swallowed. There wasn't time for this. Whatever had happened down there in the depths of her soul was over. Later, after this was...done...she could worry and wonder about herself. For now, she had a job to do.

At last, they turned onto her street. Buffy was out of the car before it stopped moving and running for the house, Tara close behind with the satchel of spell components. Joyce opened the door and Buffy almost plowed over her.

“Everything ok?” she gasped. Joyce nodded and Buffy turned to give Giles a thumbs-up. He pulled away from the curb with Anya still riding in the back.

Dawn appeared in the doorway and hugged Buffy awkwardly. “Is Spike really evil again?”

Buffy swallowed. “He never stopped being evil. He just couldn’t really do anything with it for awhile.”

Tara had been talking softly to Joyce, explaining what she was going to do. At Buffy’s words, she gave the Slayer a thoughtful look but didn’t say anything as she bent to take items out of her bag.

“Oh,” Dawn said. She scrubbed at her eyes. “Are Xander and Willow all right?”

“Yes. They’re fine.” No thanks to me, Buffy added silently, as she stroked her sister’s hair.

“Good. You sure know some creepy people.”

Tara began the ritual, whispering the words of warding as she sealed each door and window with holy water and rowan bound with red thread. After the living room was finished, Joyce and Dawn remained there and Buffy accompanied Tara through the house, making sure Spike hadn't already gotten in and was lurking somewhere.

“This isn’t your fault,” Tara murmured when they were safely out of earshot.

“Isn’t it?” Buffy said grimly. “I should have killed him a long time ago.”

“You couldn’t. Not while he was defenseless. That’s not what you’re about. It’s more like what Faith would have done.”

“Spike was never defenseless. I kept forgetting that.”

“We all forgot.” Tara reached up gracefully, touching the tops and sides of Joyce’s bedroom window. “Sometimes, he almost seemed like one of us.”

“Well, he wasn’t.” Buffy watched her curiously. “Why aren’t you more upset? He could have killed Willow.”

“But he didn’t.” Tara shook her head. “He didn’t kill Xander either. Why not?”

Buffy shrugged. “It was a message. To scare us.”

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it have been more of a message to kill someone?”

"It doesn't matter," Buffy said with finality. "It really doesn't matter anymore."

End Part 2

Part 3