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After the Lies by BuffyMeetsSpike
 
Chapter 1
 
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Disclaimer: All the characters and recognizable dialog belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Certain dialog borrowed from Lies My Parents Told Me and Dirty Girls.
 
Author’s note: This story goes AU at the end of Lies My Parents Told Me, and tends to be a little loose with canon timelines during Dirty Girls and thereafter. I was three-quarters of the way through this story when Terepsina posted her recent tale, with a similar premise. Mine is a bit darker than hers, but I just wanted to state that no plagiarism was intended. Just a random fluke of the BSV.
 
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It was a fight like a thousand others, one that should have been over in three minutes or less. But Buffy fought on as Giles provided more words of wisdom to somehow turn her into the general he envisioned. The whole time she was fighting, while discussing sacrifice and hard decisions at the same time, something nagged in the back of her head. Why doesn’t he see how much of an asset Spike is? How can he be comparing Spike to Ben? That was totally different.
 
Then all of a sudden what Giles was saying clicked. She staked the hapless Richard and turned wide-eyed toward Giles. “Oh God. You’ve been stalling me, keeping me away…” She backed from Giles in disbelief. He wouldn’t…
 
“Buffy, it’s time to stop playing the role of a general and start being one,” Giles said sternly. Buffy stared in shock for another moment then turned and ran. She barely registered Giles calling out, “This is the way wars are won!” God don’t let me be too late. I need  him. The thought of having to fight this hopeless war with no one who she could truly trust, no one who would tell her the truth, no one who would listen to her was unbearable. Her feet flew over the pavement as she desperately raced across town.
 
She reached the door of Robin’s garage and time stopped dead. Robin stood there, panting, blood running from a cut over his eye. Buffy took in the metal gauntlets on his wrists, the crosses on the walls, and finally the pile of dust at his feet. “No…” she breathed. She shook her head slowly back and forth, eyes wide with disbelief.
 
“Buffy, it had to be done,” Robin said, his voice slightly thickened behind swollen lips. “You have to understand that he was a danger to the mission.” Buffy just stared, the words washing over her without comprehension. Her world had shrunk to a small pile of dust, hardly noticeable on the dirty garage floor. “Buffy?” Robin said, approaching her slowly, trying to catch her eye. “Are you okay?” He gently reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.
 
Buffy jerked back as if she had been singed. She was gasping, nearly hyperventilating, her eyes far too huge in her pale face. She kept shaking her head over and over, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out. When Robin took another step toward her she backed out the door, then turned and fled, nearly stumbling over her feet as the tears came and blinded her.
 
She ran again through the streets of Sunnydale, not caring where she was going. He’s gone. He’s gone. Oh no. No no no. Her brain had short circuited on that terrible fact and she could think of nothing else. She kept running and running until her chest felt ready to burst and her muscles screamed. Finally she reached the breaking point and collapsed onto the grass in a small park, landing face down, wailing. Breath came in ragged gasps, and she dug her hands into the turf, tearing at it in her grief. Coherent thought left her and her brain echoed with the desperate refrain: He’s gone. Spike’s gone. Oh God. She sobbed out her pain into the grass, all hope draining out into the ground with her tears.
 
*****************
 
Giles had gotten to Robin’s garage some time after Buffy had come and gone. “It’s done,” Robin said. He had been in the process of dealing with the minor wounds from the battle when Giles arrived.
 
“I see,” said Giles. “How… how did Buffy react?” He still fought with the guilt of going behind the Slayer’s back, but she had to see that this was the only way. She was a warrior, and she was strong. She had managed to kill Angel, and had sacrificed herself to save the world. Although she would be angry and hurt, Giles had to believe that she would eventually understand the necessity.
 
“She was… upset,” said Robin. “She didn’t say anything. She saw what had happened and she just took off.”
 
Giles frowned. “I was afraid that she might take this badly.”
 
“You know that it was necessary,” Robin said.
 
“I agree,” said Giles. “I just hope she is able to get past her current emotional state to get back to the problem at hand.” The men exchanged a few more brief remarks about meeting the next day and parted. Giles headed back to Revello Drive deep in thought. He had done the right thing. Buffy was completely blind when it came to Spike. He needed to be removed from the equation before some replay of the Angelus debacle occurred. But even though he was certain about the rightness of his actions, he knew Buffy well enough to know that there would be some friction ahead. He had lied to her, and that had never gone over well in the past. He was going to have a job ahead of him regaining her trust.
 
He came up the walk and entered the house, slightly overwhelmed as always by the wave of female voices. He hung up his jacket and moved into the kitchen. Willow was doing some research on her laptop at the kitchen counter while Dawn, and Andrew shared some chips and salsa at the table. “Hey Giles,” Willow said. She furrowed her brow and asked, “Is Buffy with you?”
 
“No. I take it she’s not home yet?” he asked.
 
Dawn noticed that Giles seemed somewhat uncomfortable. “Giles? Is something wrong?”
 
Giles hesitated for a moment before responding. “Well, I suppose you will all have to know sooner or later. Robin had to dust Spike.”
 
The three listeners gaped at him. “But why?” Andrew asked finally. “I thought he was part of our team.”
 
“He was under the control of the First, which made him a danger to all of us. Robin and I felt that it was too much of a risk to allow him to remain among us.”
 
“And Buffy was okay with this?” Dawn demanded. She still had mixed feelings about Spike. She remembered both the friend who had cared for her when Buffy was gone, and also the vampire who had nearly raped her sister. If she was honest, she was more than a little jealous that Spike seemed to get more of her sister’s attention than she did these days. But to have him gone forever was a shock.
 
“We didn’t consult Buffy about this,” Giles admitted. “Her judgment when it came to Spike seemed particularly poor. She was not able to make this decision.”
 
“Buffy is going to be really upset about this, you know,” Dawn said over the rising lump in her throat.
 
“I regret having to cause her distress,” Giles explained. “But I could not in good conscience risk the lives of the potentials to spare her feelings.”
 
“I guess we’ll have to wait until she comes home to see what happens,” Willow said. She didn’t particularly mind the loss of Spike, but she had to agree with Dawn – Buffy was not going to take this lightly.
 
Word spread quickly through the house, and the girls talked and whispered about the news in little knots here and there. Some had never felt comfortable around the vampire, and were immensely relieved to hear he was gone. Some were a bit wistful – he had been a good teacher, and he was very easy on the eyes. A few didn’t particularly care one way or the other, but were more interested in what the next plan was. Those closest to Buffy said little on the subject, but kept glancing at the door, waiting for her return. Finally, as midnight approached, the potentials started bedding down for the night. Dawn headed up to bed with a worried glance at the door, wondering idly if something had happened to her sister.
 
“Giles? Do you think she’s okay?” Willow asked.
 
“She is probably extremely angry at me right now,” Giles responded. “It may be better to give her some time to calm down before we seek her out.”
 
“You’re probably right,” Willow sighed. She made her way up to bed, and climbed in next to the already dozing Kennedy. Giles dug a bottle of scotch out of its hiding place in a top bookshelf and sat down in the kitchen to pour himself a glass and wait for his Slayer.
 
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Buffy cried until there were no tears left in her, but she remained where she had fallen, her face on the grass and her eyes staring out at nothing in particular. She knew she should get up and go home. But the thought of entering that house which was full of chattering potentials, Scoobies and Giles was somehow unbearable without Spike there. Even when she wasn’t with him, she had come to rely on his presence in the house. The ability to just slip down and talk to him when the girls got too much had kept her from strangling someone several times. Her stomach knotted at the memory of his blue eyes. Whether they had been taunting her, lusting after her, begging her for death or pleading for understanding, they had been the most beautiful, expressive eyes she had ever encountered. The thought that those beautiful eyes were gone, together with the maddeningly complex creature behind them just broke her heart. I loved him. I never wanted to admit that. But in these last few weeks, I loved him. And I never told him, and he’ll never know… Somehow more tears welled up at the thought.
 
After another indeterminate length of time she finally got up. Her clothes were disheveled and dirty, her face pale and streaked. She walked off toward Revello Drive like a wraith, feeling numb and detached from her surroundings. Her vision had shrunk to the concrete in front of her feet. It occurred to her that if a vampire came up behind her right now she probably wouldn’t even hear them, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. What was the point in fighting anyway? They couldn’t win. Spike had been one of their strongest weapons, in addition to being her friend and confidant. Now it was just her, a witch, and a bunch of semi-trained girls. The battle was already over, and they had lost. They just hadn’t fallen down yet.
 
She finally got to her house and was relieved to find it mostly dark. But as she entered the front door, she noticed the kitchen light. Not caring who was up at this hour she hung up her coat mechanically and made her way to the stairs. “Buffy?”
 
She turned to see Giles in the kitchen doorway. She backed away from him, saying nothing, then turned and ran upstairs to the bathroom. She slammed the door and barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. Giles came upstairs and his conscience needled him as he heard her retching and gasping through the door. “Buffy?” he asked quietly. “Are you alright?”
 
In response, Buffy began to laugh, hysterical, sobbing laughter that chilled Giles’ blood. The bathroom door opened to reveal Buffy, looking wild and lost. Giles unconsciously stepped back, startled. Even after her mother had died she hadn’t looked so completely unhinged. Buffy’s mouth moved for a moment before she finally choked out, “Why?”
 
“Buffy, we discussed this. He was a threat to everyone here. The First was controlling him. He could have turned on anyone, at any time. We cannot go into battle with an agent of the enemy in our ranks.” His voice was firm, but concealed a deep concern for his Slayer, who was clearly not taking this even remotely well.
 
“We didn’t discuss anything,” she choked out bitterly. “You talked, and you acted, and you… you…” She covered her mouth, sobbing and shaking. Willow’s door opened and the red haired witch poked her head out. “Giles? Buffy? What’s going on?”
 
“Just…  just leave me alone.” Buffy pushed past Giles blindly and fled down the stairs. They heard the sound of the basement door opening and closing, followed by an uneasy silence. Giles started to go after her, but Willow stopped him. “Giles, she needs some time,” Willow said.
 
Giles sighed. “It had to be done. She’s got to see that.” But even as he said it, Giles found himself wondering if he had made a mistake.
 
*******************************
 
The next morning began as usual, with girls jockeying for time in the bathroom, rolling up sleeping bags, and foraging for breakfast. The only thing missing in the usual fray was Buffy. After a while the girls started murmuring, wondering if she had come home last night, and Willow decided it was time to check on her. She opened the basement door slowly and came down the stairs. “Buffy?” she inquired. “Are you down here?” She reached the bottom of the stairs and took in the sight. Buffy was asleep on Spike’s cot, wearing one of Spike’s spare black t-shirts. Her face was pale, and there were huge circles under her eyes. Willow winced at the sight of her friend, who looked smaller and more vulnerable than she ever had. In the end, Willow didn’t have the heart to wake her, and went back upstairs.
 
“She’s still sleeping,” Willow told the assembled Potentials. “She had a rough night. We should just leave her be until she wakes up.” The Potentials weren’t sure what to make of this, and clustered in murmuring groups until Willow put them to work tidying the house to keep them occupied.
 
Giles arrived at eleven o’clock, having gone to his little apartment to catch a few hours of sleep and change clothes. He walked in to find a much neater house than when he left, but no Buffy in sight. Dawn was wiping up the kitchen counter when he came in and asked, “Is Buffy around somewhere?”
 
Dawn jerked her head toward the basement door. “She’s not up yet.” Dawn turned to face Giles and said in a worried voice, “Do you think she’s going to be okay? She was pretty close to Spike.”
 
“She’s the Slayer, Dawn,” Giles reassured her. “She has faced worse trials and enemies and come through in the end. She is upset now, but I believe she will come to accept what happened as a necessary evil.”
 
Dawn bit her lip and turned to the sink to rinse out the rag she had been using. Without looking up at Giles she said, “He had changed, you know. He really was helping and trying to do the right thing.”
 
“I realize that he had been attempting to mend his ways,” Giles admitted. “But the fact remained that the First was controlling him for evil ends.”
 
“So if the First started controlling one of us, would you have to kill us as well?” Dawn asked, facing him.
 
Giles was taken aback by the suggestion. “He was a vampire. The demon residing in him left him vulnerable to control. He wasn’t the same as a human.
 
“He had a soul,” Dawn said quietly. “I thought that was really important.”
 
Giles wasn’t sure he liked the way the conversation was going. “Even with the soul he was a danger to us all. A killer controlled by our enemy could not be allowed to remain in our midst.”
 
“You didn’t answer my question though,” Dawn persisted. “What if the First started controlling someone else? Would they need to die too?”
 
“The First has shown no sign of being able to control anyone in the same way,” Giles said, sounding more certain than he felt. “I believe we have solved our problems in that regard.”
 
“Hope you’re right,” Dawn muttered as she turned her attention to the rest of the countertop.
 
The potentials were starting to mill about in the living room again, unsure of what to do. Giles decided that enough was enough, and went downstairs to see what Buffy was up to.
 
Buffy had been awake for a while, lying on the cot and reading one of Spike’s books. When she had come down to the basement the night before, she had found the small box that Spike had used to store his things. She found four black t-shirts, two overshirts, and three pairs of jeans, along with some socks and three books. The books, which she hadn’t realized he had, consisted of Shakespeare’s sonnets, the collected works of Byron, and the collected works of T.S. Eliot. It had seemed so incredibly sad that 120 years of existence left such a small physical imprint. She had put on one of his shirts and laid down on a pillow that still held a faint scent of leather and cigarettes. She had slept fitfully, her dreams a replay of her running and running, but getting there too late to change anything. When she woke she found herself uninterested in going upstairs, and had opened Eliot to pass the time. At the moment she was fixated on the phrase: “This is the way the world ends; not with a bang, but a whimper.” Spike had gone out as a small whisper of dust, unmourned except by her.
 
The basement door opened and Giles came downstairs. Buffy was facing the wall reading, and made no sign of acknowledging the intruder. He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Finally he lost patience with her and said, “The girls are ready for today’s training session. Are you planning on getting up to lead them?”
 
“Why?” asked Buffy in a dull voice. She remained facing the wall, staring at the words of ‘The Hollow Men’ as if they held the secrets of the universe.
 
Giles grew exasperated. “Why?” he yelled. “Because you are their leader, Buffy. You are the Slayer!”
 
Buffy turned to fix him with cold eyes. “Last night you took over the leader role, remember? You made the executive decision about who belongs on the team. Because I couldn’t be trusted with that decision. You want the job? It’s yours.”
 
“Buffy, I was stepping in to do something that I knew would be painful for you. I didn’t want you to have to suffer through that.”
 
“If you didn’t want to make me suffer, then you shouldn’t have gotten rid of the one person who I could trust,” she said bitterly, turning back to the wall. “You clearly don’t trust my judgment, so go make your own decisions.”
 
Giles was about to answer when Willow came downstairs. “Buffy? There was a phone call from L.A. just now. Someone on Angel’s team could use my help with something. Now seems a good a time as any to go – is it okay if I take off for a day or two?”
 
Buffy didn’t answer, and after a long pause Giles sighed and said, “Yes, Willow, I’m sure that would be fine. Hurry back though.”
 
“I will,” said Willow. She exchanged a worried glance with Giles, who shrugged and shook his head slightly. Willow frowned, but turned to gather her things for the trip to L.A.
 
Giles turned back to Buffy, trying another tack. “So you are just going to abandon the potentials? And Dawn and the others? Leave them scared and vulnerable just because you’re upset? That isn’t like you, Buffy.”
 
Buffy closed the book and got up. “You don’t get it, do you?” she spat at Giles. “The battle is lost already. Spike was one of our strongest fighters. He was training those girls better than I was. What do we have now? Me, a witch with dubious control, and a bunch of half trained teenagers who are scared shitless? Oh, and don’t let me forget a two-faced watcher and a principal who talk about how I need to be this general in the war we’re fighting, unless they disagree with me. We’re screwed, Giles. The best thing we could do now is get the hell out of Sunnydale.”
 
“Aren’t we being a little melodramatic?” Giles snapped. “Spike was only a good fighter when he wasn’t turning on us because the First flipped his switch! You really think that having him around in the coming battle would help us?”
 
“It would help me!” she screamed, tears falling again. “I needed him, Giles, because I don’t have anyone else!” She wheeled and kicked the punching bag in frustration, pulling the hook out of the ceiling with the force and knocking it clear across the room. She turned her back to Giles, balling her fists at her side and trying to regain control.
 
“Buffy, we don’t have time for this,” Giles said sternly. “I would not waste my time if I thought this endeavor was completely hopeless. You have a sacred duty to fulfill, and it’s time you realized that and got to work.”
 
Buffy sagged visibly, her anger dissipating in favor of resignation. “What do you want me to do?” she asked in a mumbling monotone.
 
Giles was dismayed at her tone, but said, “I want you to go up there and teach those girls how to defeat the Bringers and the Turok-Han.”
 
Buffy nodded and walked upstairs, not looking at Giles as she passed. He was glad to have roused her, but it felt like a hollow victory, and he wondered again whether he had done the best thing for his Slayer.
 
Buffy made her way up to her room, and grabbed some clean clothes, carefully folding Spike’s shirt and laying it in a drawer. She took a quick shower and dressed hapazardly, throwing her hair into a careless ponytail. She thought about eating something, but couldn’t think of anything that appealed to her. When she entered the living room the endless chatter stopped, and the girls all looked at her, wondering what was going to happen next.
 
“Get your shoes on,” she said. “We’re going out for a run.” She turned and left, walking out the front door to wait for them outside. She leaned against what she thought of as Spike’s tree while she waited. The grass was still missing in the little circle where he always ground out his cigarettes. He spent that whole year watching out for me, even when I was beating the crap out of him. Stupid vampire. Wasn’t supposed to leave me.
 
“Buffy? Are you okay?” came Dawn’s voice behind her.
 
Buffy took a deep breath and turned to face her sister. “I’m here. Don’t know if I’m okay.”
 
“I’m sorry about Spike,” she said. “I know you were close.”
 
“Yeah,” Buffy said, not having anything to add.
 
“I don’t… I don’t think that Giles needed to do that,” Dawn offered.
 
“Neither did I,” Buffy responded. She looked Dawn in the face then, and Dawn ached to see the pain in her sister’s eyes. She hadn’t looked so miserable since she had been pulled from heaven. Further conversation was cut short by the potentials filing out of the house. “Come on,” Buffy said shortly. “Keep up with me best you can.” Then she took off down Revello Drive, setting a pace that was nowhere near her top speed, but still awfully fast for some of the girls. By the time they reached the college campus many of the girls were near collapse. Buffy finally stopped in a green open area and turned to face the potentials
 
“Can we… please… take a… breather?” gasped Kennedy. At least one of the girls was puking her guts out in the bushes, and the rest were falling about gasping for oxygen.
 
“Sure. Be my guest. Just remember that vampires don’t usually give time outs,” she snapped. Several of the girls shot looks that were either alarmed or irritated at Buffy, but no one had any particular remarks to make.
 
After a few minutes Buffy said, “Ok, now you’re going to take turns sparring with me. If you can knock me down, we’ll all go home. If I knock you down, someone else gets a turn.”
 
“But Buffy…” Rona said in a concerned voice. “You’re the Slayer? How are we supposed to fight you?”
 
Buffy shrugged. “Work together. Fight dirty. I don’t give a crap. Your job is to take me down. So who’s first?” The girls looked at each other, bewildered. “Kennedy, you always have something to say. Put your money where your mouth is and get up here.”
 
Kennedy narrowed her eyes at Buffy, but got up and faced her. “Fine. Do we bow or something?”
 
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Just fucking hit me already, will you? Or do you plan to talk the Turok-Han to death?”
 
Kennedy balled up her fists and came at Buffy full speed. Buffy ducked and flipped Kennedy over her shoulder to land on her back with the wind knocked out of her. Turning to face the others she snarled, “Come on! If you want to fight a stronger opponent you need to practice that skill. Get up here and fight me, goddammit!”
 
Rona, Vi and Molly looked at each other and came at Buffy together, trying to rush her and get behind her. Buffy took Vi out with a sweeping kick, blocked Molly’s punch and sent her flying into Rona. The girls scrambled up from the ground and backed away from her, terrified.
 
“Come on!” screamed Buffy. “What’s the problem? Everyone wants to train, don’t they? Everyone wants to be able to kill, right?”
 
“Buffy, you’re sorta freaking us out…” said one of the girls. Buffy wasn’t completely sure of her name.
 
“Too fucking bad!” snapped Buffy. “If you don’t like the training, then go back to Giles. Let him train you. This is what I got.” The girls stared at her, not sure what to make of all this. “I mean it. Either stand and fight me, or go back home to Giles and tell him to get you ready to fight.”
 
Kennedy had gotten back up, mad as a cobra and glaring at Buffy. “Come on. Let’s go back home and find a teacher who isn’t psycho.” She turned to go, and the others reluctantly followed her.
 
Buffy watched them go in silence, then turned and went off in the other direction. She walked through town aimlessly until she reached Restfield cemetery. She wandered between the headstones until she reached Spike’s old crypt. She opened the door slowly, wondering if Clem was still living here, or if something else had moved in. But the crypt was empty except for Spike’s old battered armchair and a generous pile of blown-in leaves and dust. She heaved up the trap door and looked down into the lower level, but it was dark, and still full of piles of debris. Apparently, he had never cleaned it out after the explosion. She closed the trapdoor again and looked around in all the corners of the crypt, desperately seeking something of his, but her search turned up nothing but dust and old bones. She sat down on the armchair and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her cheek on them.
 
What do I do Spike? I don’t think we can win this.
 
“You’re right you know. You’re bloody well screwed, Slayer.”
 
Buffy looked up to see Spike, leaning against a coffin, smirking. For a brief moment her heart lifted. He’s alive, it was all a mistake. But she realized a moment later that the look on his face was one she hadn’t seen since they were enemies. “What do you want?” she sighed, knowing she was addressing the First.
 
“Just want to thank you for joining my team, pet,” said the First. The shape of her former lover and comrade sidled closer, putting his tongue between his teeth in that sexy, smirking way he had.
 
“You’re welcome. Now go to hell,” she said, closing her eyes to shut out the sight.
 
“Poor little Slayer,” mocked the First. “She’s got no one to love. No one for a desperate end of the world shag. No one to listen to the woeful tale of how hard it is to be the Slayer with all these little girls orbiting around you like a bunch of chirping little birds.”
 
“Did I not clearly ask you to go to hell?” Buffy said, without lifting her head off of her knees.
 
“Ungrateful bitch,” snarled the Spike-shaped thing. “Not even gone a day and already I’m off your list. Fine then. Maybe you’ll like the next guy I send better. Ta, love.” With that he vanished, leaving Buffy more miserable than before.
 
 
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