Chapter Three: Moral High Ground

It felt to Buffy as though her head had only just touched the pillow when Willow was shaking her awake. “Come on Buffy, wake up, class is starting soon!”

She groaned and pulled the covers up over her head. “Go away.”

“Buffy … why are you wearing sneakers in bed? … And your sweater? Ew, it’s wet!”

“It was raining,” Buffy mumbled through her pillow.

“You were out last night?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Patrolling?”

“Nuh-uh. Saw a vampire though.” Buffy emerged from under the covers and looked at the clock. “Damn, I’d better get up. I’ll tell you ‘bout it later, okay?”

“Alright,” Willow said unsurely. “You’d better hurry up.”

Buffy changed into some clean dry clothes, pulled a comb through her hair and grabbed a cereal bar before they headed to class.

-----

As Joyce entered the kitchen, she noticed two things. One, that the basement door was open; two, that the back door had several crates pushed against it. On closer investigation, Joyce discovered the lock had been broken.

Burglars?

Glancing round the kitchen, her eyes fell on a piece of paper on the table. As she picked it up, she spotted the words “broke” and “lock”.

“*Spike* broke the lock?” she questioned aloud, before quickly skimming the rest of the note.

Joyce reopened the basement door and quietly made her way down. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she spotted him lying still on the sofa cushions with a blanket thrown over him. She paused. There were chains from the wall attached to his arms. They didn’t seem to bother him, as he slept soundly on.

The first time Joyce had met Spike, he had been trying to hurt Buffy and she had hit him over the head. The next time Buffy had invited him into their house. The third time he and Joyce had been chatting away like old friends when Buffy stormed in and tossed him onto the kitchen table by the throat. It seemed one minute he was a guest and the next the enemy, and Joyce sat on the basement steps, unsure whether she should arm herself with holy water or check the cupboards for mini marshmallows. Buffy’s note hadn’t been the most clear – it had merely said that he wanted her help, and she seemed to be thinking it over.

Well, Joyce decided, Buffy told her to be careful, but not to treat him like a prisoner. Until her daughter issued such a demand, she would treat him like a guest – albeit one in shackles. She liked Spike, and at times – like when she had spoken on the phone to him late last night – almost forgot he was actually a vampire. It was a shame he and Buffy seemed so set on killing each other half the time.

-----

Buffy spent the morning in a tired daze; it wasn’t really until lunchtime that she started to feel more awake. Looking around the cafeteria for a place for her and Willow to sit, Buffy’s eyes paused at a table. The three girls sitting there were all from her class, and ones whose names had been ticked off in Parker’s organiser.

“Willow?” She nudged her friend and nodded over. “Hi, do you mind if we sit here?”

One girl shook her head and the other moved up to make room for them both, but none of them looked particularly pleased to see Buffy. She pretended she hadn’t noticed and sat down.

“I’m Buffy,” she introduced herself, “and this is Willow. You’re … Alice … Kate … and Emily?”

They nodded. Kate made a face at her plate and pushed it away. “I’m not eating that.”

“Hey Buffy, guess who just walked in,” Willow said suddenly. Buffy looked around. It was Parker. The other girls looked even less happy to see him than her.

She waved him over and adopted an innocent expression as she bade him good morning.

“Morning, Buffy,” Parker replied, slightly warily as he saw who she was sitting with. Buffy dug around in her bag and pulled out his keys.

“Here, I forgot to return these. I hope you don’t mind Parker, I took your car out last night. A … friend … of mine needed help.”

“No problem.” He took them back and pocketed them.

“So … no hard feelings?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, good,” Buffy said cheerfully. “By the way, you might want to be careful about the sort of stuff you leave lying around in your car.”

“Sorry?”

“You really can tell a lot about a guy by the things he keeps in his glove compartment,” Buffy stated matter-of-factly, taking his organiser out of her bag in full view.

The look on Parker’s face was priceless and he seemed to have lost his voice as she flipped through the pages. “You know, I wasn’t aware we had anything planned for tonight, Parker. Oh, and what’s this?” She paused by Willow’s name and held it up for him to see. “Moving pretty fast, aren’t you? We haven’t even broken up yet. Oh no, wait – now we have.” Parker made to take the organiser but she snatched it back and put it in her bag. By now half the cafeteria was listening in.

“Buffy,” he tried fruitlessly, “I know how this looks -”

“That’s good, because if you were stupid enough not to then you wouldn’t understand the lesson here.”

“Lesson?”

Buffy smiled at him calmly. “I could try giving you a moral lecture, but I don’t really see the point. Guys like you only learn one way.” She stood, and looked at Kate. “You’re definitely not eating that?”

She shook her head. Buffy picked up the plate and splatted it onto Parker’s face, before putting it upside-down on his head. The whole cafeteria froze.

“Let me make something clear,” Buffy said clearly. “I really, really don’t like guys who think that girls are just possessions they can use and then throw away. Hopefully now any girls around here you *haven’t* already left broken-hearted will be wise to your tricks. But in case they don’t, I’ll be watching you, and I’m keeping your things as evidence. And if I find you’ve used anyone else …” Buffy took the plate off of his head and easily broke it in half. Parker gulped.

Buffy pulled out a camera and took a picture of him standing, white-faced and covered in spaghetti bolognaise. “A memento. Now get lost.”

“You can’t keep my wallet -”

“You should have thought of that before.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “I said *get lost*.”

Everyone stared as Parker started to hurry out of the room. He tripped over someone’s leg halfway there, and laughter broke out. Quite a few of the female population, Buffy suddenly realised, were applauding her, including the girls on her table. She took another picture of Parker sprawled on the floor.

“Oh, and I hope you’ve got insurance on your car,” she called after him as he reached the door. He paused and looked back at her.

“Why?”

She smiled innocently. “Oh, it’s not in the car park. I may have accidentally parked it outside the perimeter …”

Parker ran to the window and put the blinds up. Several people laughed and he positively howled when he saw his car, submerged nearly up to the roof. Buffy took another picture just before Parker ran outside.

“What do you know,” she said conversationally, replacing her camera and sitting back down at the table. “Spike was right. That felt good.”

Willow blinked at her. “*Spike?* What’s he got to do with -”

“I’ll tell you later,” Buffy muttered. “Damn, my food’s gone cold.”

-----

“What was that all about?”

Buffy flopped onto her bed as Willow shut the door behind them. “I said; I took Parker’s car out last night and found a load of stuff in his glove compartment. He’s a user and a pervert and I think I’m going to put these pictures on the fridge.”

Willow gave her a funny look. “What sort of stuff?”

“Put it this way – he had planned exactly who he was going to have sex with months in advance.”

“Eek. Sounds like you got out just in time.”

“Yeah, thanks to Spike … That’s something I never thought I’d say. Don’t tell him I said it.”

“What’s Spike got to with it?” Willow repeated the question from earlier.

Buffy sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. He’s the reason I went out last night. He called me and asked for my help.”

“With what?”

“Have you heard of Caedio Lamia?”

“I think I’ve seen it mentioned in one of Giles’ books,” Willow said thoughtfully. “What is it?”

“Vamp sickness. Fatal. Spike wants me to help him find a cure. I’m his last resort.”

Willow was silent for a moment. “I see your dilemma.”

Buffy nodded. “On one hand, he’s evil. If I let him die, one less bloodsucker to roam the streets, right? … But on the other … it just doesn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, I know if I cured him he’d just be a killer again, and then I’d be responsible for letting it happen. But when I brought up that point with him, he said he’s do *anything*.”

“Anything?”

“Uh-huh. In an ideal world, I could ask him not to kill again, but what are the odds of him actually keeping *that* promise?”

Willow shrugged. “Still, there’s got to be some way. I say you don’t fight evil by doing evil.”

“I know. But I have to think about what’s best for the general public as well, and having a back-to-full-health Spike set loose is not an option.”

“Well …” Willow thought. “How about a magical solution? … A Blood Oath!”

“Pardon?”

“Well, for humans it’s just a serious promise, but if someone like a vampire did it properly, it would be magically binding – if he broke it, he would die.”

“You think he’d be willing to do that?” Buffy asked doubtfully.

“I don’t know, you tell me. He *did* say *anything*. And if he’s not willing, then you stake him. Problem solved.”

-----

When Spike began to wake, it took him a while to remember where he was. The ground beneath him felt a lot softer than he remembered, and there was something else just as soft covering him up to his shoulders. The confusion was enough, for a few moments at least, to distract him from his hunger. Once his mind started working properly, he opened his eyes and scanned the basement. Of course. He was at the Slayer’s place.

He closed his eyes again and willed himself back asleep, trying to ignore his stomach protesting against the lack of nourishment. Almost as overwhelming were the aches all over his body that had been growing over the last few days. Ache didn’t describe it well, really. Stabbing pains were more like it.

Spike coughed into his makeshift pillow, and heard movement above him. A few moments later the basement door opened and footsteps sounded coming nearer.

“Hello, Spike.”

He opened his eyes again and raised his head slightly. “Oh, hello, Joyce. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She looked at the manacles. “Why exactly are you chained up?”

He shrugged. “Buffy don’ trust me. That’s okay, I’d be the same way in her position.”

“Well … she left me strict instructions not to unchain you, but can I get you anything?”

“You don’t have any blood in the house, do you?” Spike enquired hopefully.

“All out, I’m afraid,” she smiled. “Buffy said she’d bring some by later.”

“Oh good … Could I have some water? Please.”

“Of course.”

Joyce returned to the kitchen and filled a glass. When she came back down the steps, she saw Spike had barely moved. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” Spike partially sat up and took it.

“So … how are you?” Joyce asked.

He grimaced. “Reduced to begging your daughter to help me. Pretty low.”

“Buffy’s really very nice once you get to know her.”

“For humans, maybe. But she’s the toughest Slayer I’ve ever come across.” Spike paused. “Don’ tell her I said that.”

“My lips are sealed.” Joyce stopped thoughtfully. “Are you all right? You don’t look very comfortable. Oh, I’ve got an idea.” She disappeared back upstairs for several minutes and returned with something large.

“What’s that?”

“Spare mattress.” Joyce somehow managed to lug it down the steps and laid it on the floor next to Spike’s current ‘bed’. “That should be better.”

Spike sat up slowly, moved the blanket and cushions onto the mattress, and sank into it gratefully. “You’re right, that’s much better. Thanks, Joyce.”

“You’re welcome.” Joyce sat down next to him. “So, what exactly do you need Buffy for? Anything I can help with?”

Spike looked her in the eye. “Unless you secretly know all about mystical ailments and curses, ‘fraid not.”

“Are you sick?” Joyce asked quietly. He nodded. “Is it serious?”

“Yeah, pretty serious.”

“And Buffy’s going to help you?”

“I hope,” he admitted.

“Well, if I know my daughter, she will, I’m sure of it.”

Spike liked Joyce a lot, but couldn’t help but think that she didn’t know her daughter as well as he did. She seemed to always see the best in people … Probably why, he thought, she didn’t mind him.

Buffy Summers, on the other hand … It was a good thing she wasn’t half as nice as her mother, or Spike wouldn’t be able to fight her at all.

He had always been too sentimental.

Spike kept his thoughts to himself. It was almost touching how naïve the mother of the Slayer could be, and he didn’t want to burst her bubble. Instead he changed the subject. “Have you been watching Passions?”

They discussed the show for a while. It was nice just to talk about something mundane. Spike appreciated the simple things of life, and this kind of conversation was thin on the ground in any kind of relationship he had. Actually, relationships were fairly thin on the ground with him anyway, considering every vampire and demon was avoiding him as if he had the plague … which, in a way, he did.

“This is nice,” he finally murmured sleepily.

“This?”

“Just talking.” Spike closed his eyes. “You’re a mate, Joyce.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.” Joyce hesitantly reached out and smoothed the blanket over him gently. Spike smiled slightly.

“Thought Buffy left you strict instructions to stay out of biting range?” he said suddenly.

“I’ll take the risk. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m okay. Just need sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Spike nodded. “Would you like me to stay for some company?”

Spike considered. “That would be nice,” he replied in a quiet voice.

Joyce tucked him in properly and continued smoothing out the blanket; Spike drifted slowly off to sleep, enjoying the motherly gesture more than he planned to ever admit to anyone.

-----

When Buffy arrived home, no-one came to the door, so she let herself in through the unlocked back door. “Hello, anyone at home?”

Her mother emerged from the basement. “Oh, hello, Buffy.”

“Hey, Mom … What were you doing down there?”

“I was making sure our guest is all right.”

“He’s not a -” Buffy began, then stopped. “Fine, he’s a guest.” She sighed and placed the bag on the table. “*Is* he all right?”

“He’s asleep at the moment. Do you have some blood for him?”

“In there.”

Joyce opened the bag. Buffy raised her eyebrows as her mother took out the blood and poured some into a mug as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Do you know how he likes it?”

“Try asking him,” Buffy replied. “When he wakes up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge for now.” Joyce did so. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well, are you going to help the poor man or aren’t you?”

“Spike filled you in, huh?” Buffy sat down at the kitchen table. “Yeah, I’ll help him, *if* he agrees to my terms. And he’s not a man, he’s an evil bloodsucker, Mom. I hope you didn’t go too near him.”

“No I didn’t, but I do think chaining him up was unnecessary. Spike has always been nothing but friendly to me.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Specially when it comes to my mom.”

Joyce smiled. “Thank you, honey.”

-----

Spike stirred. “Joyce, you still there?”

A familiar voice answered. “No, but I am.”

His eyes snapped open and saw Buffy sitting against the opposite wall.

“What’s the time?” he mumbled.

“Just after ten.”

“At night?”

“Yeah.”

Spike winced as all his pain started to come back. “Hard to tell down here.”

“Thought vampires had a kind of instinct for that?”

“Mine’s been a bit wonky,” Spike said wearily, sitting up. “That happens if I don’t stick to traditional vampire sleeping patterns.”

“I see. I think. Hungry?”

His stomach grumbled. “Starving.”

“I picked up some pig’s blood from the butcher’s, it’s in the fridge upstairs. But I have to talk to you first, before we go any further.”

That sounded ominous. “Go ahead,” Spike said warily.

Buffy took a deep breath. “I propose a deal.” She paused, letting him take it in. “I will find a cure for you, but only if -”

“Name your terms,” Spike said immediately.

Buffy blinked at the abruptness, but continued. “I’ve solved my dilemma over putting a killer back on the streets. It’s pretty simple. If I help you, you have to swear to never kill a human being ever again.”

Spike wasn’t surprised. “I had a feeling it would be something like that.”

“To make sure you keep your promise, you’d have to take a Blood Oath,” Buffy concluded. “Those are my terms, and they are non-negotiable. Now, are you willing to go through with this? Because if not, I can make it quick.”

Spike only hesitated a fraction of a second before announcing, “Agreed. I’ll take the Oath.”

“Are you sure?”

“*I – don’t – want – to – die*.”

Buffy stared at him with a strange expression on her face for a moment, before saying, “Fine. It’s a deal.”

TBC …