CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


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“What did you do?” he repeated, staring the witch down.

For the first time in a long time he felt the need to maim and kill taking over him and it was all he could do to keep himself still, keep himself from throttling the meddling witch in front of him, chip be damned.

“I – I didn’t –“

Angrier still, he grabbed her by the arm, ignoring the tiny twinge it sent through his skull.

“What did you do to her?”

“Spike, what’s going on?” Dawn asked fearfully.

He took one look at Dawn and felt some of his rage seep from him. He released Willow with a look of disgust, forcing her away from him as best he could without setting of the chip.

“She did a spell. And now Buffy’s…”

He trailed off, remembering with a wince the hatred in her eyes.

“Spike?” Dawn asked, her voice raw with worry and drawing him back to the present.

“Sorry, Bit. Big Sis is fine… she’s just not Buffy anymore.”

Willow looked surprised by this too and he figured her spell – whatever it had been - hadn’t quite gone to plan.

“What do you mean, she’s not Buffy?” Dawn asked.

“Well, she’s strong, for one. And she hates me. And –“

It suddenly hit him.

“She’s the Slayer,” he whispered, eyes fixing on Willow, “All Slayer. No Buffy.”

“I just wanted to make things easier for her,” Willow whispered pitifully, “I- I thought-“

He didn’t want to hear her excuses. She wasn’t going to take responsibility for what she had done, so he needed to take this to someone who would.



“Rupert!”

His anger made him louder than necessary and his voice echoed around the empty shop. A moment later and the Watcher appeared, looking bewildered.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“The witch has been playing with magic again. Decided Buffy needed fixing, putting back to the way she was.”

“Oh dear lord, what happened?”

“Gave her her Slayer mojo back alright. Just took everything else with it.”

“She’s pure Slayer now?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Got a bruised rib that reckons so.”

“Oh dear lord.”

“Not helpful, Rupert. Gonna need a way to get her back. And find her, for starters.”

“I should have stopped Willow when I had the chance.”

“Yeah, you should have, but right now, most important thing’s finding Buffy.”

Giles got to his feet and went to the phone.

“I’ll call the others, get as many of them out there looking for her as possible.”

He went to dial and then paused.

“She’s not dangerous, is she?”

“Not to humans,” Spike murmured with a grimace.

Giles nodded and quickly made a series of calls, calling the troops to arms.



Being stuck inside and not being able to help find Buffy had made him even more irritated. He was counting down the hours until he could join the hunt. It was already afternoon and so far he had heard nothing. He was stationed at Buffy’s house with Dawn, waiting – and going mad.

“Spike, you’re wigging me out, can you sit still for two minutes?”

He stopped pacing and threw himself into a chair.

“Willow really screwed up, huh?”

He could only growl in answer and Dawn looked away sheepishly.

“She told you though? Buffy?”

“What’s that, Nibblet?”

“That she likes you.”

He smiled to himself, picturing Buffy’s face, beautiful and open, as she told him she wanted him, needed him.

“Something like that.”

“About time too,” Dawn said with her own little smile.

Memories of the night before kept him delightfully distracted for some time, until the sound of voices and footsteps alerted him to the group just returning to the house.

“Did you find her?” Dawn asked Xander as he and Anya came in.

“Not yet. Giles and Willow and Tara are still looking.”

“It’ll be dark in a few hours, then I’ll go,” Spike said, “I’ll find her.”

“What makes you so sure you can find her when we’ve looked all over the place?!” Xander challenged him.

“I can smell her,” he said simply, too angry already to spare much of it for the Whelp.



As soon as the sun dropped below the horizon, he was out of the door and on the move. Giles and the two witches had returned shortly before and Giles had admitted that only Willow would be able to lift the spell, so she should accompany Spike. That had made him even angrier and, wisely, the witch had stayed silent. Tara had agreed to accompany them and he was pretty sure it was just to make sure he didn’t rip off her girlfriend’s head – although judging by the way Tara herself was regarding Willow, he wasn’t sure she was totally against it.

They trailed just behind him now, eerily quiet as he made his way along Revello Drive. As he had told Xander, he would be able to track Buffy by her scent – it was something he had memorised a long time ago – but all he needed to do now was find some trace of it. She hadn’t been home since yesterday so the scent was weak, almost gone. He headed for one of the larger cemeteries but could detect nothing there so moved on to the next, the witches still trailing behind him.

He was in the third cemetery, starting to give up hope, when he felt it – a tiny prickle down his spine – and seconds later, he was being tackled to the ground. Buffy had found him, instead of the other way round. He managed to roll to his feet, facing her once more. It was amazing how little she looked like his Buffy now – in only a few hours, she had already degenerated into a cold, killing machine: hands bared, dirty with blood and dirt, those dark expressionless eyes sizing him up.



He really, really didn’t want to fight her but he didn’t have much choice as she charged him again; he spun, using her own weight against her to send her to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the witches getting ready and knew he only needed to keep Buffy distracted for a little while longer. Funny thing about magic, that was: the witch could put the spell on Buffy from miles across town but to lift it she had to be within metres of her target. Didn’t make sense, and that was just another thing he hated about magic.

Distracted by these thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Buffy was on her feet once more until she lashed out at him, scratching him across the face. He felt his skin start to sting as her nails cut the surface and quickly dodged as she moved to repeat the action. She was wild and more unpredictable like this than she had ever been in her right mind. She lashed out at him again but he caught her arms, struggling to subdue her. She rammed her head into his nose and he stumbled back. Blood tickled his lip, but he did not take his eyes of Buffy – especially when she raised a crude stake in her hand, something like a smile crossing her face.

“Red, hurry the bloody hell up!”

Buffy charged him and he fell to the ground, trying to hold her away from him as she pinned him. She held the stake with two hands, inches from his chest, both of them trembling as he tried to keep her from lowering her hands.

“Red!”

“One second!”

“Vampire,” Buffy snarled, the pressure against his hands increasing as she sought to drive the stake downwards.

“Buffy, love,” he said, trying to stop her, hoping she might recognise his voice, “Come on, love.”

She scowled and the pressure against his hands increased even more.



It happened in the blink of an eye – literally. One minute she was this cold thing, staring down at him with hatred and a blink later, she was frowning in confusion, taking in the scene around her.

“Spike?” she got out shakily.

Her hands trembled as she released the stake, her eyes going wide.

“Oh God, Spike,” she breathed, reaching out to touch the scratch on his face.

“Buffy! Is it you?”

Willow burst into their bubble and Buffy looked up in shock.

“What – I-I don’t understand.”

“Buffy, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-“

Glaring at the witch to shut her up, he sat up, guiding a shaking Buffy from his lap to his side, one hand clutching hers tightly.

“It’s alright, love. All better now, yeah.”

“I-I hurt you,” she whispered, tracing the scratches on his face.

“S’nothing. It’ll be gone by morning.”

A moment passed, her fingers tracing his skin, and then she seemed to remember their audience. She looked up at her friend and something in Willow’s guilty look must have sparked a reaction.

“What happened to me?”

With every word, her voice grew stronger and she rose to her feet.

“What did you do to me?”

“Buffy, I just – I wanted to fix it for you. You looked so lost and I thought –“

“You thought you could magic it all better?!”

“I wanted to fix it.”

“You wanted to fix me, you mean?! Well, I’m not broken!”

“Buffy –“

With a disgusted sigh, Buffy interrupted her.

“I can’t even look at you right now.”



She turned, her eyes lifting to his.

“Will you take me home?”

“’Course.”

“You can find somewhere else to stay,” Buffy said coldly, turning her gaze briefly on Willow, “You’re not welcome in my house.”

“Buffy, I-“

Tara stopped her girlfriend with a firm hand on her arm and Willow looked to her in surprise.

“Let’s go,” Tara said, her voice more confident than Spike thought he had ever heard it. Willow looked like she wanted to protest but as soon as she glanced at Buffy, she seemed to change her mind. She let Tara lead her away – sensible girl – and as soon as they were out of sight, Buffy turned to him.

“Take me home?”

He nodded, falling into step beside her. He started when he felt her hand slide into his and glanced at her but she just wrapped her fingers around his tightly and they carried on back to her house.