Chapter Nine


A/N: A certain scene in 'Potential' has been thoroughly pilfered in the creation of this chapter! :-) Also, I know, I'm back again! I'm on a roll...


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As Spike had suggested, there were those who were not at all pleased with the idea of him helping Buffy to train the growing number of girls, but Buffy refused to back down and a couple of days later – once she was satisfied that Spike had healed enough – he joined them on a patrol. He walked along with her at first and she could see that several of the girls were more than wary of him, hanging back at a safe distance. There was no time for that though: they had a lot scarier vampires to worry about.

She smiled to herself when she imagined what Spike’s reaction to that comment would be but stifled her smile as he turned to her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for instruction. She drew to a stop and turned to the group of girls.

“Okay, time for some real-life experience.”

She paused, looking over the selection of girls and finally settling on two.

“Rona, Vi, you’re up.”

The two shared a worried look and stepped towards her hesitantly, not sure what they had just been volunteered for.

“Right,” she started, smiling ever so slightly, “Here.”

She held out two stakes and the two girls shared an uncertain look before taking them from her nervously.

“Now run.”

Another bewildered look was cast in her direction and she smiled before continuing.

“Run away,” she continued, looking them both in the eye, one after another, “Now… Because Spike’s coming after you in thirty seconds.”

The girls flew a scared look at the vampire, who grinned, and then after sharing another bewildered look, they took off at a sprint. Buffy stepped closer to Spike as she counted slowly and just touched his arm.

“Go easy on them,” she whispered.

She nodded at him a moment later and smiled as
he slipped into game face, gave her a fangy smile, and dashed off after the girls. She followed a moment later, calling to the girls behind her.

“Try to keep up!”



She caught up to the group just as Spike shoved Rona to the ground and caught Vi by the arm, pinning her to him and moving as if to bite her. He stopped a second later, looked up and met her gaze, and slipped back into his human guise.

“Okay, these two are dead,” he spoke up, “Why?”

“Because the black chick always gets it first?” Rona piped up and Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s bravado.

“What was that, Rona?” she asked, sending Spike a quick look as Vi let out a moan of pain at his tight grip.

“I’m dead because he’s a vampire,” Rona continued and Buffy turned her attention back to her, “I don’t have Slayer strength, Slayer speed. It wasn’t a fair fight.”

“Vi, do you think I care about a fair fight?” Spike asked threateningly and Buffy had to stifle her giggle. He really was enjoying playing the Big Bad.

“No, no sir,” Vi answered hesitantly, “You don’t play by the rules. And I have learned a valuable lesson of some sort.”

When Vi let out another cry, Buffy nodded to Spike to let her go.

“Okay, Spike.”

She turned her attention back to the group and spoke up, hoping that her wisdom wasn’t falling on deaf ears. She needed these girls to understand what they were up against. She needed them to understand their own power.

“You’re right. You don’t have Slayer strength. But that doesn’t mean you’re not strong. You have inherent abilities that others don’t have.”



There was a tiny pause, but then Molly spoke up.

“Not like you do.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? These girls had all the potential to be like her – but not until she was dead and gone.

“No, not yet,” she conceded, “But it’s there. You have the potential. You have strength, speed, instinct. You just have to learn to trust yourself.”

She turned and addressed Rona.

“Rona, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?”

“Block his attack, keep him off balance, gain the advantage…” the girl replied weakly and Buffy had to contradict her.

“No they didn’t.”

“They told me to run,” the girl admitted and Buffy nodded, turning to Vi.

“Vi?”

“They told me to run,” the other girl agreed, “They’re still sort of telling me to run.”

The girl gave Spike a wary look and once again, Buffy had to stifle her smile. Spike glanced at her and she held his gaze for a moment before turning her attention back to the girls.

“Don’t fight on his terms. Your gut’s telling them to run, run. Okay? Regain the higher ground. Make the fight you own.”

She turned then to Spike and met his gaze, a tiny spark of something zipping through her as their eyes met, although she remained serious.

“Spike, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?”

“Hunt. Kill.”

God, he thought he was so bad.



She threw Spike a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and turned to the girls, her back to him.

“Come at me full speed,” she spoke up, her eyes fixed on the girls even as she ordered Spike to attack, “He needs to kill to live. That tells you everything you need to know.”

She heard his low growl and sensed him a moment later, her instinct kicking in as she ducked and he went flying into a nearby gravestone. As soon as he hit the ground, she pounced, pinning him to ground and holding a stake over his chest.

“Instinct,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on Spikes for a second before she raised her eyes to the Potentials, “Understand his, but trust yours. You were chosen for a reason.”

Spike let out the tiniest of groans, distracting her and drawing her gaze to his worriedly.

“Are you okay?” she got out, loosening her grip on him.

“I’m fine,” he answered, “Couple of ribs ain’t quite set right since – I’m fine.”

Ignoring his blatant lie and oblivious to the interested onlookers, she tugged on his T-shirt.

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s just-“

“Spike,” she whispered, her fingers grazing his skin.

Spike’s hand wrapped around hers a moment later, guiding it away from his chest.

“I’m gonna be okay.”

One of the Potentials said something then, although she didn’t know what, and brought her back to reality with a start. She missed the next few comments by the girls as she nervously looked away from Spike and hurriedly got to her feet. She helped him stand and quickly turned her attention back to the girls, not liking the way they were looking between the two of them.

“Molly, Kennedy, let’s go. You’re up,” she got out, “Next lesson.”



She spent the rest of the patrol in a nervous agitation around Spike, saying as little to him as possible and focussing most of her attention on the girls. She had embarrassed herself in front of the girls too and she desperately ignored the quips and the knowing looks aimed in her direction. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed that it was Spike either.

It was a strange sort of awkwardness, stemming from the fact that the moment they had shared had been so intimate – and it had played out in front of a crowd. A crowd who had no idea about their history. There was also worry on her part: worry that she had let him convince her he was okay when he was still injured. She watched him carefully for the rest of the evening, watching for any more signs that he was still suffering.

She found none, but by the end of their patrol, she had convinced herself that he was just very good at hiding them. And she was determined to check him over, just as soon as they got home. As soon as they were away from the prying eyes of four teenage girls with a thirst for gossip.