A Resolution

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“This is Giles. He’s my Watcher,” she explained, smiling as Giles stepped forward and shook hands with Riley.

“It’s nice to meet you, Riley. Buffy has told us a great deal about you. I really would be very interested to know about your work.”

“Erm, sure,” Riley got out hesitantly.

“Giles, give the guy some time to take it all in, will you?” she teased.

“Yes, quite,” he replied, moving away and polishing his glasses.

“And you know Willow. And this is Xander.”

“Are you a witch too?” Riley asked her friend and they all burst out laughing.

“No. No. Xander’s my…well, my manpower and, err, carpenter-type…and all sorts of useful things.”

Xander smiled and shook Riley’s hand. Well, so far her friends seemed to be taking to Riley and he seemed to be taking in this whole Slayer thing surprisingly well. Maybe Spike had been right about her not being happy with a normal guy. Speak of the devil, she thought as there was a knock at the door.

“It’s Spike.”


She felt the vampire tense a tiny amount when he caught sight of Riley amongst the group but he soon shook it off, turning to Giles.

“Please tell me you’ve found something. Who knows what secrets the Slayer might’ve found out?!”

“I’m saving it all as ammunition,” she answered sweetly and he narrowed his eyes for a second before smiling hesitantly. He sank onto a chair, draping his arms across the back of it. He seemed more relaxed now but she didn’t miss the slight darting of his eyes towards Riley.

Hope the Slayer hasn’t made a mistake.

“Me too,” she whispered under her breath and Spike’s eyes flew to hers and she smiled before turning to Riley.

“So, welcome to the research team.”

He smiled and she took his hand, guiding him to sit on the sofa beside her as Giles handed them a book each. She flicked through her book absentmindedly but her eyes soon drifted to the man beside her. He was frowning, obviously trying to puzzle something out.

“I never understand what these old guys are going on about,” she whispered, nudging him slightly.

“This is all in rhyme. Like a poem. A really bad poem.”

She smiled and leant over to look at Riley’s book.


There was raucous laughter and she felt a burning in her stomach. She scrunched a bit of paper up in her hand and moved away from the laughing men.

“And that’s actually one of his better compositions.”

“Have you heard? They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry!”


She turned to the vampire with wide eyes, almost wanting to laugh. William the Bloody…William the Bloody Awful Poet.

“I can’t understand any of it,” Riley whispered.

“No, me neither. Poets, huh? Bloody awful.”

Spike’s eyes flew to hers with a look she had never seen on his face before: fear. He jumped to his feet like a man possessed.

“Slayer, need a word.”

He nodded toward the kitchen and before she could even get to her feet, he had disappeared into the next room. She smiled and with a slight caress on Riley’s arm, she moved through to the kitchen. She was barely through the door before Spike caught her arm, dragging her fully into the room.

“Slayer, m’not sure what you saw, but if you tell anyone-“

“I won’t.”

“What?” he blurted out, obviously thrown off.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“But-“

“It wouldn’t be right.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say and released her arm, staring at her.

“Look, I don’t like this either. It’s invading your privacy and I want it solved as soon as possible.”

He was silent for a long moment and then his eyes met hers.

“Slayer, I don’t know if they’re going to find anything,” he said in a low voice, “But…look.”

He moved closer, his hand just settling on her arm once more.

“The only thing I know…if the claim is a two-way thing, it’s easier to control. You can…ignore it easier.”

Two-way thing. That didn’t sound so good.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t see Dru racing to my rescue, do you?”

She paused and looked at him, studying his face.

Trust me, Slayer.

“Look, just think about it, Slayer. It might be the only way.”

She hesitated and then heard her name being called from the other room.

“Be right there.”

She turned to the door but paused, just glancing back at Spike.

“I’ll think about it.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


She wasn’t naïve: she knew exactly what making the claim a two-way thing involved. Spike would have to draw her blood and say the magic words. But she was afraid. It wasn’t that she feared Spike would try to kill her- his chip would stop that and she knew somehow that he wouldn’t even attempt it. No, what scared her was the fact that he would have access to all her innermost thoughts and feelings.

The whole of her would be laid open for his inspection- and she really didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t want him to see how much she had loved Angel, didn’t want him to know her secret fears. She would be left vulnerable to his mocking, that knowing look, that unnerving smirk and she just didn’t know if she could cope with it. But then, her brain reminded her, you have the same access to his mind. You’ve seen things that would embarrass him- if he said anything, you could just tell everyone about William the Bloody Awful Poet. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do that though. Would the claim have the same effect on him? And was he telling the truth- would she be able to ignore it completely? Block out his thoughts and feelings? She sighed and slumped down on her bed, burying her head in the pillow. Why did her life always have to be so complicated?


“I do see you. That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.”

The woman walked away, leaving her with a burning sensation in her chest. She stumbled to her feet and out into the street, ripping paper as she went, until finally she sank to the ground with a choked sob. She buried her head in her hands as she trembled, tears running down her cheeks.

“And I wonder, what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?”

Her head flew up to look at the dark-haired woman.

“Nothing. I wish to be alone.”

The woman wasn’t listening though- she was talking again.

“I see you. You’re a man surrounded by fools who can not see his strength. His vision. His glory,” she breathed, “That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head.”

She frowned at the woman’s strange words and pushed herself to her feet.

“That's quite close enough. I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be
getting my purse, I tell you.”

“Don't need a purse,” the woman said dreamily, pointing to her heart and then to her head, “Your wealth lies here... and here. In the spirit and... imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine.

“Oh, yes! I mean, no. I mean... mother's expecting me.”

The woman leaned over, her hand running over her chest to her collar.

“I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something... effulgent.”

“Effulgent.”

“Do you want it”

“Oh, yes! God, yes.”

The woman’s face changed and then she moved forward, biting into the flesh of her neck as she cried out in pain. Soon after, there was nothing but darkness.

When she awoke, what seemed like an age later, she cried out when she realised she was in a dark, confined space and began to hit out at the wood around her.


She bolted upright, gasping for breath as she clutched the covers to her. She so didn’t want Spike’s dreams anymore. Before she knew exactly what she was doing, she climbed out of her bed and pulled on the first clothes she could find, before rushing out of her room.


“Dru, I told you about bringing home strays.”

“He’s my white knight.”

Angelus strode up to her and looked down at her with a sneer. Then he lashed out and she collapsed to the floor.

“Welcome to the family, William.”


She shook her head, trying to drive the vision from her head, marginally aware of the tears that were coursing down her cheeks. She had to find some way to stop this. She couldn’t take it anymore. She rushed through the town, hugging her cardigan around her as she raced towards Restfield cemetery.


Spike’s crypt came into view and she only increased her pace, practically sprinting towards the door. For a moment she stopped at the door in the fear that he might not be alone, but then she pushed the door open and headed straight for the ladder to the lower level. She climbed down the ladder and turned, starting slightly when she saw that he was asleep in his bed. He was sprawled out beneath the covers, his chest bare, his hair ruffled. She couldn’t stop now though; she moved forward and bent over the bed, resting her hand on his arm.

“Spike?”

Suddenly, his other hand reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her tightly as his eyes opened slowly. He blinked in confusion and then loosened his grip.

“Slayer?” he asked sleepily.

“I want to do it,” she whispered, “The claim. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You sure?” he asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“I…I don’t want to be in your head. I want to…You said if it was two-way you can ignore it. Will it…will it stop the dreams as well?”

“I don’t know. Probably.”

He looked at her for a long time in silence and then sat up, the sheets around his waist, his hands just resting on her arms.

“You okay? You look a bit shaky.”

“Look, Spike, I just want to do it. I don’t want to see things in your head anymore.”

“Okay, breathe. Calm down and we’ll talk about this.”

She nodded and ran her hand over her face, all the while breathing deeply to try and calm herself.

“Mind turning away, Slayer? Need to put some clothes on. Figure you don’t want an eye-full.”

Her eyes flew to his, down to the covers at his waist and then away again quickly. She turned her head from him, staring at the wall opposite her as she felt him move from the bed.

In no time, he was at her side again, sitting on the edge of the bed. She noticed his bare feet and smiled a small smile at the normalcy of it in all this madness. Here she was, sat in a vampire’s crypt in the middle of the night, asking him to bite her and claim her. His cool hand took hers again and she looked up to meet his bright blue gaze.

“You have to be sure, love. There’s no going back.”

“Will…I have to know, will I be able to stop you? From reading my mind, I mean.”

“I guess so. Slayer, I…you don’t need to worry about me searching out all your secrets. I wouldn’t.”

She studied his face and knew, somehow, that he wasn’t lying.

“And no…no telling other people things we might find out.”

“Of course not. But look, Slayer, if you’re that worried, we’ll wait ‘til your friends find something.”

“What if they don’t? This…it’s driving me crazy. I can’t sleep without seeing things. And I…it’s too real,” she trailed off, raising her hesitant gaze to his steady one before continuing breathlessly, “It felt like…like I’d woken up in my own coffin…and I couldn’t breathe. It was horrible.”

“Hey, shh,” Spike soothed and before she knew it, she was in his arms and he was comforting her, his hand just rubbing against her back.

She was trembling and sagged against him,
screwing her eyes up tightly in a vain attempt to block out the images swimming just behind her eyelids.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’ll do it, if it’s what you want.”

She nodded against him, her shaking hand clutching his shirt.