Chapter Eleven But It Was a Spell!!!

"Bloody hell..." Spike raised his head, saw her stricken expression and dropped it again, repeating, "Bloody fucking hell."

Buffy tugged her shirt down, trying futilely to pull it down far enough to cover her exposed, neatly trimmed curls. When that didn't work, she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, yanking the shirt out of shape so it would cover her legs all the way to her sock-clad ankles. Beside her, Spike pulled his jeans up, tucking himself away before Buffy could notice that he was growing hard again.

Not that she was looking at him. Her face was buried in her knees, her whole body curled into a tiny ball of misery. Without speaking to her, he stood up and walked to where he'd tossed her jeans, bringing them back and handing them to her with a quiet, "Here, luv."

He turned his back and remained facing away from her until he heard the sound of a zipper and snap. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned around, dropping to his knees next to the rugs upon which Buffy was now sitting, still staring at the floor and refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said. "I never meant for it to happen like that."

"Like that?" She snapped her head up. "How did you mean for it to happen?"

Pretending he didn't know she wasn't really asking a question for which she wanted an answer, he gestured to the wood stacked in the corner.

"That's a king sized bed," he said quietly. "Was going to wait until the place was all set up, then do it right – candles, music, wine...."

"You were going to try to seduce me?" She gave a short, scoffing laugh and dropped her head again. "Why bother? It's not like I was going to say no, is it?"

He flinched at the bitterness in her voice, but continued, "Was planning to wait until the spell was gone. Didn't want you to... didn't want this," he said, gesturing back and forth between them. She raised her head slowly, her expression carefully blank. "Wanted to make love to you, Buffy. And I wanted it to be because you wanted me – not because of some spell that made you think you did."

"Without the spell I wouldn't have even come here," she said. "Did you think about that? Maybe you wouldn't have even wanted me to come down here. You might have gone to all that trouble for nothing."

"Might have. Was willing to take my chances." He took in her angry face and rapidly blinking eyes. "Guess those chances are pretty slim now...."

She gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I think you could safely say that." She shook her head. "On the plus side, I don't feel all that... pull that was there before. Maybe we had to do that to get it out of our systems? Do you feel more... normal?"

"Think I can control myself, if that's what you mean," he responded noncommittally.

She nodded. If she noticed that he hadn't really answered her question, she didn't call him on it, just looked around for her shoes. When she spotted them, she started to get up, but Spike was quicker, getting the shoes and handing them to her.

"So," she said staring down at the laces she was tying, "Didn't you promise me lots of killing things?" She raised her head, her eyes now bright and hard. "I think I could use some of that right now."

"Right there with you, Slayer." He held out is hand to help her up, dropping it when she just stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Right then," he muttered. "We're off to kill things."

By unspoken agreement, they left Restfield and headed for some of the more remote cemeteries around Sunnydale. Buffy strode with grim purpose, her mouth set in a tight line as she scanned her surroundings for something on which to take out her anger. As much as she wanted to take it out on Spike, she also really wanted something that could fight back. And, if she was honest with herself – which she was resolutely avoiding – she knew it was no more his fault than hers. Whatever was going on between them, if had been affecting Spike anywhere near as much as it had her, then he wasn't really responsible for his actions.

Well, except for the whole wanting to seduce me thing. But that could have been spell induced too. Maybe he won't want to do that anymore now that it's out of our systems.

"What's the plan, Slayer? If you don't find anything worth slaying, I mean."

She fixed hard eyes on him. "I think you'd better hope that I do," she said. "I really, really need to beat up on something." When he didn't respond, she added, "And just so you know, I want to do it myself. You can watch, but don't get in my way."

~~~~~~~~~~~

After they'd realized what had gone wrong with her original spell and dealt with it, Willow had buried herself in a book of simple spells, writing down the ones she thought might be useful and taking great care to get every word correct and in the proper order. As the watcher came into the room from the kitchen, she looked up with less confidence than she would have had a few days ago.

"Are you sure it's gone?"

"It should be." He sat down at the table and sighed. "I'm glad we figured it out quickly and didn't need them to be here for it. If we'd had to wait until the next time we had them together, it may have been too long. Heaven only knows what could have happened by then." He shuddered and reached for his glass.

"Yeah. At least we got it done before it got too late. Buffy's probably slayed a few vamps and gone back to the dorm already. She won't even know it's gone until I tell her." She looked at him curiously. "What did you say Spike was doing?"

"Moving furniture, according to him."

"Huh. Okay then, job well done. I'm going to head back to the campus and—"

"I'll drive you," Giles said, standing up and picking up his keys. "It's much too late for you to be walking around Sunnydale without Buffy."

"I have a few things up my sleeves," Willow grumbled. "I'm a match for any vamp I see coming."

"It would be those that you do not 'see coming' that should concern you," he said dryly. "I'm quite pleased that you feel you can defend yourself if needed, but I suggest you not become too complacent about it. One wrong word during a spell can, as you have seen, make a great deal of difference. And if the spell goes awry while you are under attack..."

"I get it, Giles. Sheesh! You'd think I messed up all the time." She gave a haughty sniff and marched out the door ahead of Giles, who was wearing his "give me strength" expression as he pulled the door closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh look, Spike. A ritual! A vampire ritual!" Buffy's voice was unnaturally loud and cheerful, causing the gathering of robed vampires to turn, snarling at the interruption.

Spike rolled his eyes at the early warning she'd given. "Brilliant," he said, much less enthusiastically, mentally counting their opponents and shaking his head. "You wanted to kill vamps – have at it. You should get your fill now."

There was just the slightest hesitation in Buffy's voice. "Don't you... aren't you going to help me?"

"Got your back, Slayer," he said gruffly. "But I thought you wanted me to stay out of your business?"

As the first few robed vampires reached them and Buffy began dodging fists and feet, she felt the familiar anger flare. "I do!" she grunted, staking the first vampire to come within reach. Her irritation at Spike and her embarrassment over what they'd done combined to give her a power and purpose much different from her usual quippy and stress-free slaying. Within seconds, there were three fewer vampires and the remaining ones were slowing down and assessing the situation. They cast wary eyes at Spike, but when he just settled onto a tombstone and lit a cigarette, they turned all their attention on the Slayer.

Without waiting for the other vamps to form a plan of attack, Buffy took the fight to them, using her fists and feet as much as her stake. She worked her way through the crowd, somehow always aware of where each opponent was and able to evade or injure even those trying to get behind her. By the time the last vampire was on the ground moaning, she was tiring badly. She went from body to body staking them as quickly as she could. When there was nothing left of the ritual gathering except the small fire and the robe of the long gone intended victim, she dropped to the ground and fell onto her back, panting for air.

Too late, she realized that her position was almost identical to the one she'd been in not so long ago. At least this time I'm wearing my pants. She snickered to herself, turning her head languidly when Spike settled onto the grass facing her, his back against a tombstone and his legs drawn up. He rested his hands on his knees and cocked his head.

"Care to share, pet?"

"Not really." She smiled to take the sting out of her words, surprised to find that she was no longer angry.

"Feeling better, are you?"

She shrugged as best she could from her position on the ground. "Well, I don't feel like beating you to a pulp anymore. I guess that's better."

He was gazing down at her, his expression uncomfortably like the one he'd been wearing since the spell. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes, only to find them landing on his hands and the bulge just visible through his open knees.

"I thought we were cured!" She sat up abruptly. "What's the hell is wrong with you?"

Spike shifted, adjusting himself now that he knew she was aware of her effect on him. "Never seen yourself fight, have you, love?" he said enigmatically.

"What's that got to do with anyth—"

"Like poetry in motion, you are. All grace and power and righteousness." He nudged her foot with his. "Got nothing to do with the spell, pet. It's what watching you fight has always done to me. Hell, fighting with you used to leave me too hard to walk sometimes."

Buffy looked away, blushing. "TMI, Spike."

"Not something I should have shared?" he teased, relenting when he saw her face begin to shut down. "I'm sorry, Slayer. Didn't mean to burst your 'we're all back to normal' bubble like that. But 'normal' doesn't mean quite the same thing to me as it probably does to you."

"Are we back to normal?" Buffy didn't look at him as she asked her question.

"Well, I'm over here and you're over there, and nobody's ripping off anybody's clothes, so I'd say so."

She ignored the trace of sadness she thought she detected in his voice. "Well, okay, good then. I guess we can tell Giles and Willow not to worry about doing another spell." She stood up and waited for him to spring to his feet before turning to walk back to the dorm. Spike fell into step beside her, walking close enough to feel like a companion, but not so close as to accidently touch her anywhere. They were approaching the campus when Buffy realized he hadn't dropped off to go to his crypt. "Where are you going?"

"Just seeing you home, pet."

"Spike—"

"Not planning to come in," he growled. "I just think you might be a little tired after that fight. Thought it would be a good idea to see you safely home."

She nodded, then gave him a sidelong glance. "So, I guess William wasn't just part of the spell, huh?"

"Tell anybody about this and I'll tear your heart out!"

"Okay, that sounds more like spelless Spike," she giggled. "I know you—" She pushed him behind a minivan, her hand over his mouth muffling his growl. "Shhhhh," she whispered. "There are soldiers up there."

Leaving Spike crouched behind the van, Buffy stood up and peered ahead to the pool of light at the entrance to the campus. Two cammo-clad men were talking in low tones, scanning every coed that came past them. Buffy watched long enough to know that they were paying special attention to the blondes that approached. She dropped back to where Spike was crouched, a low but steady rumble coming from his throat.

"I think they're looking for me," she hissed.

Spike's rumble increased to a full-throated snarl that was cut off abruptly as he grabbed his head and winced.

"Bloody hell. I can't even think about killing those wankers," he complained.

"You can't kill them," Buffy said, poking him in the arm. "We've got to get out of here. I can't kill them either, and I'll bet anything there aren't just the two we can see."

Spike nodded. "No question, pet. After what you did to the last squad they sent after you, they've probably got a whole battalion hiding out behind those brick walls."

"Lets get back to Giles'. He said to let him know if they bothered me again."

"Don't know what he thinks he's going to do," Spike scoffed. "Doubt the Council of Wankers—"

"You'd be surprised where the Council has their grubby little fingers," Buffy interrupted. "Or who they've got the goods on, anyway."

"Now that I can believe," he muttered as they crept backwards, keeping the parked cars between them and the still alert soldiers. As soon as they were safely out of line of sight, they sprinted back towards Giles' apartment complex, arriving just as he was returning from taking Willow home.

"I thought you two were going to stay apart?" he said, glaring at Buffy. "Not that it matters now, but you wouldn't have known that."

"Why wouldn't we know it?" Buffy frowned. "We were the first to know." She trusted Spike's sense of self-preservation would prevent him from explaining just how they knew.

"You knew that we did the spell?" Giles unlocked the door and ushered them in, closing it firmly behind them. He frowned as Buffy turned the deadbolt and Spike went around pulling the blinds closed.

"Well, I mean, we can tell we... You did a spell?"

"Yes. I found the word that had been missing from Willow's original spell that would have allowed her to successfully break it. I'm not clear on why it didn't affect the rest of us; we all seem to have recovered without any lingering effects – but that's neither here nor there. The point is, we fixed it so you should be free of the... urges that were making you so miserable." He beamed at them, his smile fading as he watched them exchanging looks he couldn't read.

"What... what time did you do the spell?" Buffy asked, barely controlling the panic in her voice. She felt Spike step closer to her, offering silent support. He's still got my back.

"Oh, quite early on," Giles said, narrowing his eyes at the body language he was reading. "Not long after you left here, actually. It was a simple matter, once she showed me her words, to redo the spell with the correct wording, and then to break it again. It should have gone into effect immediately. Did it not?" he asked, glaring at the vampire's impassive face and his slayer's ashen one.

Giles was not a stupid man. He grabbed the stake that Buffy had dropped on the table and raised it. "I warned you," he said, stepping toward the couple and pushing Buffy aside.

"No, Giles!" She pushed back, deflecting his aim and placing herself in front of Spike again. "It wasn't his fault!"

"The devil it wasn't." No one made any attempt to pretend not to understand the subject. "No spell means he was in control of his actions...." His anger faded into disappointment as he looked at Buffy's flaming face. "As were you," he said with a deep sigh, laying the stake back on the table. "I should have realized that," he added in as close to an apology as he intended to come. Spike's nod of acknowledgment told him the vampire understood.

Giles slumped into the chair he'd been using when he and Willow had celebrated their handling of the "Spike situation" as they'd taken to calling it.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "I would have sworn we..." he glanced up at them, frowning at Spike's proximity to Buffy. "But did you just say you know it's broken?"

"Yes," Spike said shortly.

"We're fine now," Buffy put in. "It's out of our systems and no one is ever going to mention it again."