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Chapter 9
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Buffy didn’t have words to express her relief when Spike returned. Willow and Xander had tried to draw her into further conversation, but she had tuned them out, fearful of losing her temper with them completely. She helped herself to another mug of blood and sipped it in front of the TV, fighting to keep the demon at bay. When she heard her own voice at the front door saying, “I’m back with supplies and reinforcements!” she went to greet Spike, skirting sunbeams as she did.
 
“Tara!” Buffy said with surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
 
“I ran into Spike at the Magic Box and he explained your predicament. Anything I can do to help?” Tara said.
 
Willow came in from the kitchen. “Tara, hey,” she said, looking as awkward as she felt. “It… it’s good to see you.”
 
“Hi Willow,” she said quietly. “I’m just here to help with the research.”
 
“Oh. Okay,” Willow said, her face falling a little. After another moment of awkward silence she turned to Spike and said, “Did you get the books?”
 
“Yeah, they’re right here,” Spike said, opening the bag. “Guess we should get started.”
 
They moved to the dining table to spread out the books and Willow’s laptop. Willow restrained herself from magically enhancing the internet with an effort, mindful of Tara’s occasional glances from the other side of the table. Xander sat next to Willow, alternating between reading and frowning in the general direction of Buffy and Spike, as if he couldn’t quite figure out who to disapprove of – the body or the mind that was trapped in Buffy’s body. Tara was torn. She wanted to encourage Willow’s progress, but she was still hurt and wary after Willow had altered her memories. She buried herself in the book, occasionally looking up at the woman she still cared for very much, but then looking away when their eyes met.
 
Buffy and Spike sat beside one another, studying the texts. There were devices like the one Faith had used, there were demons that could take over your personality, but there were precious few spells that could make two people switch bodies. Buffy realized that she was very aware of the scent of the shampoo Spike had used, the musty smell of the books, people’s deodorant choices – it was like someone had cranked up her sense of smell to eleven. “This vampire smelling thing is really bizarre,” she commented to Spike.
 
“Can be awfully helpful though,” Spike said. “Allows you to track your prey.”
 
“Great. I can be a big bloodhound in an out of date leather coat,” she said wryly.
 
“Hey, don’t you dare insult the old girl,” he admonished with a mock frown. “I’ve had her since before you were born, so show some respect.”
 
Tara smiled at their banter, but Willow and Xander exchanged a concerned glance. Tara caught the look of should we worry? passing between them and felt that she had to speak up. “It’s good that the two of you are keeping your spirits up. You seem to be working well together despite the difficulties.”
 
Spike shrugged, “We tend to fight well together. Seems like we need to join forces against whatever enemy did this to us.”
 
“Besides,” said Buffy. “Now we know how the other half lives. It’s a real eye opener.” Willow looked like she was about to say something, but held her tongue when she saw Tara’s eyes on her.
 
Xander, not noticing Tara’s looks, said half jokingly, “So, what, you want to be all evil now that you’ve seen how much fun it is?”
 
Buffy was about to shrug and avoid the conflict as usual. But then she saw a brief frown cross her own face, registering Spike’s annoyance at this latest entry in the constant stream of flack from Xander. Steeling herself for the response she said, “Actually, yesterday was one of the best days I had since I got back, before I went out and got the crap kicked out of me.”
 
“What do you mean?” asked Willow, clearly puzzled.
 
Buffy went on, unable to stop the flood once the gates were opened. “I had a whole day to myself. In peace and quiet. No one bursting into my house with a problem. No teenager whining about how tough her life is. No one ordering me around or making me feel guilty because I’m not happy enough. I read, watched TV, drank whiskey and relaxed. If it wasn’t for the problem of having to eat people or drink that disgusting pig’s blood to live, not to mention the problem of my head exploding when I defend myself, I’d say the life of a vampire is a hell of a lot better than my life.”
 
“What are you saying?” Xander said. “You’d rather be a soulless, blood sucking demon than the Slayer? Just so you can watch TV all day?”
 
“Beats being a thickheaded git like yourself,” Spike mumbled. He was about an inch away from leaping across the table to belt Xander himself, but held back. Buffy was holding her own against the whelp and it was a lovely thing to see. Now there’s my Slayer. Knew she was buried in there somewhere.
 
Xander opened his mouth to fire off an angry retort, but Tara interrupted saying, “Xander, not helpful, alright?” He looked at Tara in surprise. Tara’s stutter returned as she noticed Willow and Xander’s eyes on her, but she held firm and said, “B.. Buffy and Spike need your research help, b.. but now is not the t… time for the anti-vampire c.. campaign.” Tara almost never dived in when there was a confrontation between Xander and Spike, and the shock of her doing so stunned him into silence. Xander cast dark looks at both Buffy and Spike, clearly trying to find some cutting comment. In the end, the weight of three sets of eyes glaring at him was too much, and he angrily grabbed the book again and started flipping through the pages. Buffy and Spike both shot grateful looks at Tara as they got back to work as well.
 
The day passed at a snail’s pace. The tension in the group was only broken when Dawn came home. “Hey guys, what’s going on?” she asked as she entered the dining room. Spike noticed that she seemed a bit subdued. Good. Maybe my little tirade sunk in earlier.
 
“We’re trying to figure out how our minds got misplaced,” Buffy said. Remembering what Spike had told her the night before she said, “Do you have any homework?”
 
Dawn replied, “French, Algebra, and History.”
 
“Do you want help with anything? I could use a break from the research,” Buffy said, chewing her lip nervously. She wanted to do better by her sister, but at the same time didn’t want to unleash another wave of bitchiness in her direction.
 
Dawn started to roll her eyes, but caught Spike’s warning glance. Buffy’s eyes could be extremely menacing when they wanted to be. Swallowing she said, “Um, sure. In the kitchen maybe?”
 
“Sounds good,” Buffy said. She got up and followed Dawn, leaving the others to carry on with the research. Dawn sat down at the island, and Buffy got out a box of cookies from the cabinet. “Here, can’t work on an empty stomach.”
 
“Aren’t those Willow’s secret stash?” Dawn asked.
 
Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, but so what. My house, my cookies. Anyhow, let’s take a look at that French homework.” Buffy had studied Spanish in high school, but the strategies that had gotten her through worked well for French too. Buffy quizzed Dawn until she was reasonably certain that she would pass her test the next day, and then they started on the algebra. Dawn needed little help there, but Buffy hung around and listened to her sister chat about her day, sharing in the cookies and washing them down with a mug of blood. After an hour and a half the algebra was done as well.
 
“For History I just have to read. I think I’ll do that after dinner. What is dinner anyway?” Dawn asked.
 
Buffy shrugged. “For me, another mug of yummy pig’s blood,” she said, grimacing at the thought. “That stuff is truly nasty.”
 
“It’s gross just watching Spike drink it,” Dawn agreed. She looked down at her lap for a moment. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk last night.”
 
“It’s okay, Dawnie,” Buffy reassured her. “Yesterday was pretty tough for everyone.”
 
“I guess. But I’ll try to be less, um…”
 
“Bitchy?”
 
“Yeah,” Dawn said, blushing. After a few moments of awkward silence she said, “Hey, do you think the others would mind if I made dinner?”
 
Buffy kept a neutral face – some of Dawn’s cooking experiments were not to be believed. “Depends on what you make. And besides, with your arm messed up, how are you going to manage?”
 
Dawn got up and looked through the cabinets. “I could make pasta. I could add some extra veggies to the sauce and sort of do a marinara-primavera sort of thing.”
 
Why not? I don’t have to eat it. “That sounds like a great idea, Dawnie. You get started, and I’ll go see if anyone made any progress. Let me know when you need help.” Dawn happily, if awkwardly, started banging pots and pans around as Buffy went back to the dining room.
 
“Yes, I am bloody certain I didn’t see any Crinash demons,” Spike was saying to Willow.
 
“I just want to be sure, because they can suck out your essence…” she replied.
 
“And they are fucking nine feet tall!” Spike interrupted. “No way something like that sneaked by.”
 
“But you both said your memories were hazy,” Xander said. “Maybe you saw them and just don’t remember.”
 
“I guess that’s possible,” Buffy put in as she joined them. “But I really don’t remember anything even remotely like that.”
 
“I’m just about out of ideas then,” Willow said, pushing her laptop away and slumping in her chair. “It has to be either a demon or a spell, but all the spells I found seem to make you think you are someone else, not swap minds. And the demons who could do this would more likely take over your body than put you in another body.”
 
“Maybe we need to take a break,” Tara offered.
 
“Dawn’s cooking pasta for dinner,” Buffy informed them. “Why don’t we go chill until it’s done? We’re getting nowhere right now.” Buffy led the way into the living room and sat down on the couch, putting her feet up and leaning back. Spike sat down next to her, while Willow and Xander grabbed armchairs and Tara flopped cross-legged on the floor. Buffy turned on the news to fill the awkward silence, and they all listened with little interest until a particular story came on.
 
“A bizarre robbery took place at the Electronics Depot in the Sunnydale Mall this afternoon,” the announcer was saying. “The manager states that he arrived at the store to find a large number of high end computers missing. The only employee present, Jerry Renolds, age 38, was found wandering around in a state of confusion, unable to recall his name or any other details of his life. Mr. Renolds was taken to Sunnydale Memorial for observation.”
 
Buffy sat up immediately. “Did you guys hear that?”
 
“Yeah. Sounds like the attack of the world’s geekiest criminals,” Xander commented.
 
“No you lackbrain,” said Spike. “The clerk had amnesia. Couldn’t remember anything.”
 
“Not sure how relevant that is,” Willow said. “I mean, you guys have your memories intact, but they’re just switched around.”
 
“Yeah but we’re both real hazy on the particulars of that night,” Buffy said excitedly. She turned to Spike, “Could some demon or something have been trying to erase our memories, and instead switched our memories?”
 
“The kiss,” Spike said, revelation dawning on his borrowed face. “Everything went haywire after we kissed.”
 
“No surprise there,” Xander muttered.
 
“Xander, knock it off,” Tara said, once more surprising everyone. To Buffy and Spike she said, “I think you’re on to something. Maybe the physical connection somehow warped the effect of whatever it was.”
 
“Maybe we need to be looking more closely at memory spells, specifically at side effects,” Spike reasoned. “Lord knows that unexpected things can happen when you start messing with memories.” He looked pointedly at Willow for a moment, as the witch suddenly found a need to avoid eye contact with everyone.
 
“Um, I’ll go see if Dawn needs any help,” Willow said, ducking out into the kitchen. The others continued to watch the news in tense silence.
 
“Dinner is served!” yelled Dawn from the kitchen, and everyone gave a sigh of relief. Buffy and Spike went to help bring food from the kitchen while the others cleared the dining table of books and papers and brought out plates and silverware. Tara, Willow, and Xander moved around each other awkwardly, the silence thick between them. Xander was about to ask Tara about her defense of Spike when the others came in bearing  a big pot of pasta and a slightly scorched but otherwise appealing looking pot of spaghetti sauce. They dug in, praising Dawn for her efforts. Buffy ate a plate of it to be polite, while discretely drinking blood to wash it down. She was pleased to find that Dawn had put in enough extra onions to wash out the foulness of the pig’s blood somewhat.
 
Spike ate with relish, clearly enjoying himself. “Nibblet, you have outdone yourself,” he said with a sigh of contentment.
 
“Enjoy it while you can,” Buffy said. “You’ll be back to pig blood and darkness before you know it.”
 
“I suppose,” he said around another mouthful. “But I still don’t mind having my taste buds reminded about the joy of human food. I plan to savor every moment.”
 
“Thanks, Buf… I mean Spike,” said Dawn, smiling shyly at Buffy and Spike. Spike took that as another good sign that the rift was mending between the sisters, and hoped that the upward swing would continue.
 
Tara chatted with Dawn about movie possibilities for their get together on Friday, while Buffy and Spike listened in and offered their ideas. Willow and Xander, on the other hand, ate in silence. Willow knew that Tara had every right to be angry with her. But it seemed so unlike her to be defending Spike and siding with him against her. She was deeply hurt that Tara seemed much more concerned about Spike and Buffy’s problem than her. She hadn’t even asked about the magic. Willow’s struggle not to use magic was the most painful thing she had ever had to endure – Tara had to know that. But here Tara was, laughing and chatting with Dawn and Buffy and Spike, and paying her no mind whatsoever.
 
Xander sat next to her, stabbing his pasta with ill concealed irritation. Knowing that it was Spike trapped in Buffy’s body made it easier to bear all the ill temper of the day before. But here were Buffy and Tara defending Spike. Like he was somehow supposed to feel sorry for Spike because he got a headache every time he tried to eat someone. He knew that Buffy hadn’t been herself since she returned from the grave. But to have her apparently enjoy being a vampire was alarming, and he couldn’t understand why Tara and Dawn weren’t as freaked out as he was. Hello? Am I the only person who sees how cosmically bad this is?  He also couldn’t understand why no one was addressing the clearly growing relationship between the Slayer and the vampire. Memories of Ms. Calendar, of Giles being tortured, and of being threatened by Spike raced around his head. We already did the ‘date part of the Scourge of Europe’ thing. Do we really need to repeat this? Xander resolved that something had to be done to prevent this, once everyone was back where they belonged.
 
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After dinner and sunset the gang made their way to the Magic Box, to pursue the idea of memory spells gone awry. Anya was counting the till happily when they came in. “Hi guys! Those new love charms sold like hotcakes today!”
 
“Glad to hear it, demon girl,” Spike said. “Thanks for loaning us the books.”
 
“Did you figure out what did this?” Anya asked.
 
“No,” said Buffy. “But we’ve got some new ideas to pursue.”
 
“Specifically, we want to see if there are any memory altering spells or such things that could have this as a side effect,” Spike added.
 
Looking sternly at Willow, Anya said, “You weren’t doing magic again, were you?”
 
“No!” cried Willow defensively. “Really, guys, I haven’t used magic since the other night.”
 
“It’s alright, Willow,” Buffy said. “Let’s just get to work, okay?”
 
After an hour with little progress, Buffy stood up. “I need to go patrol. Spike, do you want to come? Make the demons think the Slayer’s still around?”
 
“Sounds good,” Spike said, more than happy to get away from the Scoobies. If Xander shot him one more dirty look the whelp was going to find himself sans teeth.
 
“We’ll take Dawn home when we’re finished here,” Willow offered.
 
“Okay. Dawn? Remember to read your history, you hear?” said Buffy.
 
“I will. Be careful,” Dawn answered.
 
The two blonds left the store, both of them breathing a sigh of relief. “Said it before, but I’ll say it again,” Spike began. “How the bloody hell have you managed to be friends with these people for so long without ripping them limb from limb? I’ve dusted minions for less shit than they pull.”
 
“Yes, but I can’t exactly dust them,” Buffy said. “They didn’t used to be this bad. I think between my… death and Giles’ being gone, the whole group is just kind of lost. Willow went from being a pretty quiet nerdy type to being a powerful witch and a semi-leader. I guess the power went to her head.”
 
“Got that right,” Spike agreed. “You should have seen her this summer. Pushing her thoughts into our minds, orchestrating things her way. Giles was too broken up to notice, Xander agrees with her on everything, Tara’s too quiet to say anything – everyone just let her run things.”
 
“Including you?” Buffy wondered.
 
Spike sighed. “You’ve seen the way they think about me. I’m hired muscle, nothing more.”
 
“I don’t think of you that way,” Buffy said softly. “Not anymore.”
 
Spike stopped and looked at her searchingly. “How do you see me then?” he asked, hardly daring to breathe.
 
Buffy considered, then answered slowly, “As a friend. Maybe more than a friend, but I don’t know yet. But can we start with friends?” Her eyes were pleading with him, begging him for understanding.
 
Spike’s heart beat faster, and he allowed himself the tiniest bit of hope. Biggest crumb you’ve given me so far, Slayer. “I think friends will do very nicely,” he said. Then he noticed a troop of four vampires making their way toward them. “Although first, perhaps we should be fighting partners, don’t you think?”
 
“Works for me,” Buffy said with a smile. Then they pulled out their stakes and got to work.