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Work in Progress by Scarlet Ibis
 
Guiding the Blade
 
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A/N: Thanks to DoS for betaing, and to all of you who took the time to review. It's very much appreciated :D

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“Guiding the Blade”



“So, you told Joyce,” Anya observed from directly behind Giles. Judging by her extreme proximity, he knew she’d been eavesdropping. “Do you really think that was such a good idea?”

“Well…Joyce, she um…you have no idea how convincing that woman can be when she wants to.”

“So you hadn’t meant to tell her then? It just slipped out, right?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell Xander, then.”

“No, especially not. Xander’s reaction might be…less than kind…honestly, who can tell with that boy? That, and Spike has a right to his privacy.”

“Yes, he does. Except when it comes to Joyce, apparently.”

“Anya, I told you I had no intent—”

“And now you want me to lie— by omission, but lie, nevertheless— to the man that I love? The man I live with, share my bed with?”

Giles gave her a pained expression, not sure what to say.

“All right. I can do that. No problem.” She smiled cheerfully at him.

He sighed his relief. “Yes. Very good. The matter isn’t to be discussed with anyone else. Not Xander, Willow, or Tara.”

“And Dawn?” Anya inquired, her brow crinkled in confusion.

“Bloody hell! Of course Dawn is not to know! I thought that much was obvious.”

“How was I supposed to know? You gave me this list and—” Anya stopped mid-sentence as another customer entered the store, turning to smile brightly and greet him, completely ignoring Giles.

Shaking his head, he looked down at his watch, and wondered how the vampire was faring, not to mention Buffy. He sincerely hoped that they could find some semblance of solace at this time of darkness for them both.

~~~~~

“Dawn, is everything all right?” Dawn heard her mother call from the top of the stairs.

She heaved a sigh, continuing to hold her head in her hands, eyes tightly shut. “Yeah, it’s just…Riley came by. I wouldn’t let him in, though.” She straightened a bit from her position on the stairs, watching as her mother slowly descended, concern tinged with apprehension on her face.

“What did he say?” her mother asked cautiously, standing before her.

“He um, he said he wanted to see Buffy, and I told him he wasn’t welcome here anymore. And then…it was mostly my own dumb fault. I was probably overreacting, but his eyes…”

“Did he do something to you? Touch you? Hurt you?”

Dawn saw that her mother had that look in her eyes— the one that said she wanted to do some serious damage. Buffy got that look too, sometimes, particularly when she felt that those closest to her had been threatened.

“Dawn?” Her mother gripped her shoulders, searching her face with worry in her eyes, and Dawn realized that she still had not answered her questions.

“No. He just scared me, is all. Will -- will Spike be safe? At Giles’? I don’t want Riley anywhere near him, Mom. He’s…he’s changed. I don’t want him around any of us.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her mother embraced her, stroking the long strands of her hair that hung down her back. “Buffy will keep Spike safe. And next time you find Riley at our door, come to me, and I’ll take care of him,” she said softly— in the kind of soft voice that was menacing and deadly, at the same time.

Dawn took comfort in that.

~~~~~

Harmony strolled into the dark bar, searching every patron’s face with her golden eyes. She smiled with satisfaction as she found the one she’d been searching for. He was sitting in a booth near the back left end of the bar, enjoying a drink, casually looking over the crowd.

His name was Chris, and he was tall, with dark brown hair accentuated by hypnotic dark brown eyes, sensuous lips, a lean, agile body…well, he was almost perfection. His voice didn’t have as much bass in it as she preferred, and though he had that swagger that she found to be oh so sexy, he just couldn’t do it like her Spike.

In fact, no one could she admitted to herself.

But he was still way good looking.

Their eyes met, and he grinned at her. Harmony sauntered over to him, and sat down without an invitation.

“Harm, pleasure seeing you here. But I’m guessing that you’re only gracing me with your presence because you finally managed to convince that delectable boyfriend of yours to have a lil’ party, eh?”

“Actually, no Chris. He still politely declines…but I do have a party that I’m sure you’ll like just as much. Maybe more in certain ways.”

Chris sucked in air between his teeth, hissing. “You naughty girl, you. Will it hurt?”

“Most definitely. It’s all about the pain.”

“Pleasure is hard to come by these days without the pain,” he said thoughtfully.

Harmony gave him a hollow smile in return. “I’m thinking that you and I will most certainly find the pleasure through someone else’s pain. Does that count?”

“Will there be blood?” he asked darkly, his voice low and suggestive.

“Only if we do it right.”

“And I’m guessing ‘right’ in this sense will be quite wrong?”

“Very. Very wrong.”

They smiled at each other with understanding. Harmony nodded toward the exit, a question in her eyes, and he smiled as he tossed a few bills onto the table. She stood up, Chris followed suit, and they left the bar and headed out into the night.

They had many things to discuss.

~~~~~

With a stealth that comes only with age, Spike rose up from the couch so as not to disturb the slumbering slayer. As comfortable and lovely as it had been lying beside— well, on top of the woman of his desires, he was in no mood for a kip, and at the same time, didn’t feel much like thinking. The alcohol he had drunk had not been enough to soothe his troubled emotions, and after further contemplation, he realized what was missing— his smokes.

Of course, in his haste to leave his crypt, he had left them on the upper level somewhere— probably on the counter. And of course, the Watcher had stopped smoking once he hit the age of “responsibility” and so forth.

It looked like leaving, if only briefly, was the only option.

Spike sighed, glancing over at Buffy. A little drool was dribbling from the side of her mouth, causing him to crack a grin at the unexpected sight.

“Bloody hell, she’s adorable,” he murmured, grabbing his coat. With the sun finally set, he could leave his blanket behind, as he headed out for a comforting box of mentholated smokes.

To be truthful, it wasn’t so much the cigarettes themselves he found comforting, as the fact that they represented part of an image that he wanted—needed— to maintain. The…incident earlier that day had deeply rattled him, taking him back to a place that he had desperately wanted to believe was forever dead and buried. After his rebirth, he had sworn to never be a victim again— or at least, not to someone so utterly beneath him.

In his opinion, Finn was practically as low as one could get.

Walking the streets of Sunnyhell, Spike felt an anger rise in him at how helpless he had been— how the attack had made the Master Vampire feel as if he had been reduced once more to nothing more than…him.

William.

There were many aspects of his human self that Spike longed to forget, yet no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much time had passed, time and again he found that he was still there.

It was William who had so desperately wanted to cry while he was being violated by Riley, and it was only his demon that had kept him from breaking down.

During the attack, anyway.

Spike was finally beginning to accept that when it came to expressing sensitivity and grief that he tried so hard to conceal, William usually could best his demon. But there had been a few times– other times— when he had been able to preserve his well-practiced façade.

But the bloody chip had taken even that away from him.

Keeping his emotions in check was one thing, but not being able to defend himself physically…it made him feel just that more helpless. Sure, he could still look the part— the devilish smirks, the swagger, the coat, the smokes and alcohol…but it all meant nothing if he could no longer back it up.

He was officially a victim again.

Albeit, a very much unwilling one, but a victim nevertheless.

And that was something that he could not accept. Something he refused to accept.

“Not gonna be anyone’s bloody bitch anymore,” he said with determination.

“I think I’m gonna have to disagree with that, Spike.”

Spike froze at the sound of the cold mockery in that terrifyingly familiar voice, his spine stiffening in apprehension, and another feeling that he did not want to acknowledge.

Now or never, mate. Are you a victim, or not?

Spike made a split second decision– and ran.

Better to be a coward than a victim.


 
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