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Business as usual by Lilachigh
 
Chp 47: Can we Change
 
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Business as Usual
 
By  Lilachigh
 
 
Chapter  40   Can we change?
 
 
Spike could smell the blood a hundred yards away as he strode through the tunnels, heading for the basement of Agnes Pringle’s tearooms.  His pace quickened and he was running at top speed by the time he crashed open the door, vamping out, a growl on his lips.
 
OK, he might have the fever of Buffy Summers on his mind day and night but that didn’t mean he wanted anything to happen to one of his friends, especially a poor old duck like Agnes.
 
As he crashed into the basement kitchen, he skidded to a halt. A small vampire child, a girl, was sitting on the edge of the wooden table, with Agnes tutt-tutting over her.  His friend Clem was standing, looking worried, trying to make the kid smile by waving his tentacles at her. There seemed to be blood dripping everywhere.  Another small girl vampire was standing watching, chewing the ends of the ribbon tied round the end of her long, thick braid.
 
“What the – ”
 
“Spike!” Agnes bit off the word he’d been about to use, raising her eyebrows and nodding at the little girls. “Just the person I need. Poor Nancy has broken a couple of fangs and they’ve got embedded in her bottom lip. Can you help me get them out, please.”
 
Spike sighed. “Hi Nancy. Hi Clem. Look kid, vamp out. Your lip will shrink and the fang ends drop out.”
 
They watched in silence as the little girl promptly turned on her human face and Agnes sighed with relief as two needle sharp fangs slid down the bloody chin.  She produced a handkerchief and began to wipe the child clean.  “Thank you, Spike.  I should have thought of that myself.  There, Nancy, all better. I’m sure you’ll grow new fangs very soon. Now, off you go with Brittany and Clem and find something quiet to play.”
 
She watched the children clasp Clem’s baggy hands and drag him, unprotesting, out into the tunnels, chattering on about “watching TV at Brittany’s cave because her mom wasn’t home yet and teaching him a dance routine that was way cool” and muttered to Spike, “I just hope the new fangs don’t come through crooked. Such a worry for a young girl. I mean, even if you are a vampire, you want to look attractive to young men vampires, don’t you?  Well, not you yourself, of course, but - ”
 
“What happened to her?” Spike asked hurriedly before his friend could stray into even deeper waters.
 
“Her brother, Eric, and some friends were playing football in the big tunnel – well, they call it soccer - and they made her goal-keeper. I’ve already told them what I thought of that behaviour and they are now busy cleaning out a couple of empty caves just along from the tearooms to give me some extra storage space. I don’t understand where all these vampire children are coming from. Brittany’s another one; she arrived with her mother a few nights ago.”
 
“Right – listen, Aggie – the Slayer - ”
 
Agnes scattered flour on the table to soak up the blood, retrieved the pastry she’d been making when Nancy had come howling into the kitchen, and thumped it hard with her rolling pin.  She didn’t mean to interrupt her friend, but she had so much on her mind.  Shona, Nancy’s mother, still hadn’t returned to their cave. It had been days now and no sign or message. Agnes was beginning to fear the worst.  She’d moved Eric and Nancy into her spare room because she couldn’t have them sleeping on their own where anyone could find them.
 
“You know, Spike, it really annoys me that most of the vampires that are turned these days contribute nothing to our society.  Silly, stupid boys, most of them. I suppose that’s why they get caught so easily, but it would be so useful if you could turn say, a dentist tonight or a good doctor.  We lost our plumber to the Slayer last week, as you know and I’m not blaming her, because I realise she has no choice, but there are pipes leaking in so many caves that I’m beginning to worry about rats.”
 
“Aggie – ”
 
“A teacher would be good, too. A young one who could relate to how the children feel. I’m doing my best, but mathematics was never my strongest subject at school.”
 
“Aggie – you know I can’t bite anyone, let alone turn them.”
 
Agnes sighed. “I was just dreaming out loud. Your chip is really a great inconvenience, not to mention a health hazard.  But just think, if you turned a brain surgeon, he might be able to take it out!  Have you no friends who could do that for you?  I would offer, but you know I don’t like even speaking to Unturneds unless one really has to. They’re so – illogical!  But sometimes….”
 
Spike shifted uneasily. He was desperate to ask Agnes about Buffy’s odd behaviour but his curiosity was aroused. “Have you ever turned anyone?”
 
Agnes banged the rolling-pin down again across the silently protesting pastry. It was odd how water, flour and fat could change into pastry as light as a feather, but tonight the outside of her apple-turnovers were going to be steely hard.  Luckily most demons had very sharp teeth.  “You know I don’t approve of drinking human blood,” she said at last. “Now, what did you want to ask me?”
 
“But you have drunk it in the past?”
 
Agnes shut her eyes for a second, the warmth of her home under The Olde Willow Tree Tea Shoppe vanishing and she was back in Los Angeles, newly arisen after the event That Had Not Been Her Fault and so, so hungry. She’d been sitting on a bench and there’d been a young woman walking towards her, and –
 
“I didn’t know the rules,” she murmured, tears that she never shed pricking her eyes. “But I do now. I’ve changed.”
 
 Spike looked up sharply, sensing her distress.  “So you reckon vampires can change? Become – something different?”
 
Agnes sighed, remembering dear Richard Wilkins III.  ‘Something different’ didn’t really do justice to his altered life style.  “I think everyone has the power inside them to change the way they live,” she said. “None of us are vampires by choice and we have to cope with so many difficulties. Some of us have demons inside us that can’t be controlled, some of us don’t. You have your chip and a demon!  But we can always try to be different if we want to be. I think it’s the trying that’s important.”
 
Spike prowled round the kitchen, examining the various jars of spices. He poked a finger into the ginger jar and stood licking it thoughtfully.  “What about humans?  If say, someone has died,  not naturally, but by some sodding magic, and then they’re brought back by magic. Would they be the same person as when they went?”
 
Agnes flipped the apple and cinnamon mixture onto the pastry in six pools, then folded it over, prinking round the edges with beaten egg.  She picked up the baking tray and stood considering her friend.  He looked – the first word she thought of was tired, but she could see that wasn’t correct.  There was an edge to his behaviour, as if he was wound up like an old clock spring and one more turn of the key would break him in two.
 
“Spike – I understand very little about magic and demons, but I wouldn’t have thought so.  You need to talk to someone who specialises in that sort of thing.  What about that very unpleasant demon, Rack?  He pops in sometimes for fruit tarts. He knows a great deal about magic – well, he says he does. Constantly. And please don’t eat all my ginger. I’m making Parkin tonight.”
 
He put down the jar and stared moodily into space. Then – “I can hit the Slayer!”
 
Agnes winced as she flinched and her hand caught the hot edge of the stove as she banged the door shut on her turnovers.  “Hit Buffy Summers!  Why would you want to do that?  It sounds incredibly dangerous. Were you fighting?  I thought you – liked her.”
 
Spike waved a hand impatiently. “Why doesn’t matter. It’s the fact that it’s not impossible any more that’s important. I shouldn’t be able to, not with this chip inside my head.  But I can!”
 
“Can you hit anyone else?  Have you tried? Can you turn people again?”  Agnes hoped she didn’t sound too optimistic but the thought of a new vampire school-teacher, a dentist, perhaps even a doctor, swam before her in all their enticing glory.
 
“No, just Buffy.”
 
“Oh.  Oh, well, she is the Slayer.  I expect your chip has to work harder to compensate where she’s concerned. Maybe it has to be – ” Agnes floundered for the right word; she really did not understand modern gadgets – “rebooted!” she finished triumphantly, remembering a very odd conversation she’d overheard Andrew and his friends having one evening in the Tearooms which she’d thought had been about buying new shoes but wasn’t.  “You see, if someone could just turn a scientist of some sort, you could probably get it repaired.”
 
“Rebooted?”  Spike stared at her, puzzled.  “Where the heck did you hear that word, Aggie?”
 
Agnes cleaned her table top of blood soaked pastry crumbs and began to sort her ingredients for Parkin.  “There’s no need to sound so surprised: I try to keep up with all the modern idioms,” she said huffily.  “Andrew’s friend Warren is very good at computers and - and – and things,” she finished.
 
“That wanker.”
 
Agnes flinched but knew there was no point in mentioning bad language to Spike.  He didn’t even know he used it.  “I have no knowledge of his personal habits, but yes, he might be able to help. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that young man before – ” she clasped her flour covered hands together in excitement – “he might be able to remove your chip altogether. And it would really help if you could ask Rack if he knows where I could contact a vampire teacher.”
 
Spike frowned. He’d given up hope a long time ago. But to return to what he’d been before the Initiative had changed his life so drastically – to feed and bite and kill! He shuddered as he remembered the iron tang of real blood filling his mouth.  Was it possible that Warren could help him without removing the chip? He seriously doubted it.  That took the sort of black magic power only a few demons possessed and there certainly wasn’t one in America. Rack was powerful, but a bit of a charlatan as well. He reminded Spike of Dracula – lots of hypnosis and flashy spells.  But Warren – he was the type of nerd who might well be able to tell if the chip was mis-firing, because if it wasn’t, it would prove there was something wrong with Buffy, not him!
 
But if he could get it out – what would the Slayer say, what would she do?  He knew he’d been accepted a little way into her circle because he was tamed, unable to kill humans, useful to her when she chose. And since she’d returned from Heaven, she’d sought his company, confided in him, seemed to need him, even kissed him!
 
But even she had no idea how bloody difficult life was, fighting in a fog, the blinding pain that shot through his head when he stepped too far in one direction.  But that pain was no longer there where Buffy was concerned – and that meant – Spike muttered goodbye to Agnes and strode away down the tunnels, heading for Warren’s house.
 
He’d meant to warn Agnes against Rack – he really had. That was one bad demon. He only remembered fleetingly while he was waiting for Warren to do his nerdy thing and then the news that his chip was working perfectly drove it out of his mind.
 
Which was a shame because as Agnes watched Eric, Nancy, Brittany and the other children gathering round her kitchen table demolishing pig and chicken blood smoothies, she knew something would have to be done. They looked to her for so much, which was ridiculous: she couldn’t teach them, care for them.  They deserved more than she could give. Their lives had changed so drastically, some of the younger ones still didn’t understand what they had become.
 
She didn’t like Rack – if she was honest, he scared her so much she often had trouble putting his fruit tarts in a carryout box without dropping them. But, she thought, grimly, being scared was no excuse. If Rack could help her find some useful vampires who might be persuaded to come and live in Sunnydale and help her with these lost children, well, she had no choice.  And as she fell asleep that morning, she was wondering what sort of cakes she could take with her on a visit to that demon.
 
 
 
tbc
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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