~*~
Chapter 3
~*~
November 22, 2000. Sunnydale, California
 
Buffy scattered another vampire to the four winds and tried to keep focused.  She remembered the lessons Spike had tried to impart the evening before and had no plans to repeat the events of the previous week.
 
It had been good that Spike had come by Revello Drive last night to be certain that Buffy understood the near kiss.  “Heat of the moment, vampire here.”  Not much of an excuse, if Buffy thought about it too hard, but they both had a silent pact to let it lie that way.
 
He had shown up right after her mom told her about the planned hospital stay for her headaches.  Kate Perkins had been right to worry, as it turned out.  Things looked bleak and Buffy had cracked.  She had been crying on the back porch steps when Spike had appeared through the shrubbery asking what was wrong and offering help.
 
It had been good to have someone to share the worry with.  Say what you would about Spike, one thing was indisputable and that was his genuine liking for Joyce Summers.  He had been sweetly consoling and offered words of hope.
 
Now they had the facts and the worry was more intense than ever. 
 
Dr. Isaacs was fatherly and sympathetic as he explained Joyce’s symptoms and prognosis.  It wasn’t good; brain tumors rarely were.  He had introduced Buffy to Dr. McKennitt, the Chief of Staff who had his own specialization in Neurosurgery and would be overseeing Mrs. Summers’ case.  He was straight out of central casting with a vague George Clooney look to him that make Buffy feel confident that the man knew his stuff. ‘Hmm, the power of TV to plant suggestions!’
 
Arrangements had been made for an MRI and possible surgery.  The idea of her mom’s head being cut into made Buffy feel five years old again--helpless but too old to be blissfully unaware.  Having someone you love in jeopardy and not being able to do a thing about it was the very definition of hell.  Patrolling had at least given Buffy a chance to work out some of her frustration through acceptable violence.
 
A new volunteer for the dustbuster showed himself and Buffy used her fists to beat her frustrations home.  Her knuckles were bleeding from the effort and the dazed vampire was pleading for the stake by the time she was ready to end it.
 
“That Dark Shadows reject say something to piss you off, Slayer?”
 
It was Spike.  It seemed it was always Spike.
 
Buffy drove the stake home and stood up, wiping the dust from her jeans.  “You volunteering?”
 
“Not for a role in ‘Gone With The Wind’, no.  Got an ear, though, if you need to vent.”  Spike figured the news about Joyce was not good.  “Docs figure out how to fix up Joyce?”
 
“Oh, they figured, but just aren’t sure if it can be fixed.”  Buffy fought back tears.  “It’s a brain tumor.”  Spike flinched.  “Not in a great spot to do surgery either.  They say this kind grows fast too.”  The tears won the battle and began a trail down Buffy’s face.  Spike had to work hard not to join her.
 
“Remember how useless it feels,” Spike muttered.
 
“Completely useless.”  Buffy looked at Spike in curiosity.  “You talking about Dru?  I mean when she was sick?”
 
“No.”  Spike took in a ragged breath.  “My Mum.  Had the wasting sickness, as they called TB back in the day.  Nothing anyone could do but watch her cough her life up and die a day at a time.”  He ran a hand over his eyes, as if suddenly feeling the weight of all the years he had lived.  “Never easy, but when they’re still young it just seems worse somehow.”
 
“You’re right.”  Buffy was struck with a strange thought.  “This is a funny conversation for two killers to be having, isn’t it?  I mean, how many young moms did you take out?  How many demon kids have I left orphaned?”
 
“Any you left orphaned were the fault of the parent doing evil.  Nothin’ wrong with you followin’ your calling.  Never saw you just kill for no reason.” Spike had noticed that Buffy wasn’t simply a tool of the Council, an extension of her stake as easily replaced as that crude weapon.  “I’ve seen you leave plenty of demons alone if they weren’t up to no good.  Even gave me a pass after I got handicapped.  You’re the Slayer, not a killer.”
 
Buffy decided not to press him on the other part of her comment.  He might not have a conscience without his soul, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about his own string of orphans.
 
“Can’t tell you it’ll all turn out all right, but I can tell you that your mom’s a strong lady, and if anyone has a chance, it would be her.”  Spike resisted the desire to take her in his arms and hold her until the pain eased.
 
Buffy smiled through her tears.  “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”  She fought the urge to fling herself on him in search of comforting arms.
 
After a silence that extended just one touch beyond comfortable, Spike cleared his throat.  “Think she’d mind if I popped in for a visit?  Could offer to scare some decent food out of the hospital kitchen for her.”
 
Buffy laughed at the mental image of a game-faced Spike demanding something better than overdone chicken and flavorless jello.  “That might be worth selling tickets.”
 
“Pay the hospital bill with the money,” Spike played along.
 
“Get rid of all the hypochondriacs.”  Buffy giggled this time, as pure a sound as Spike had ever heard and he made a silent vow to not let this be the last time he heard it, or, better yet, was the cause of it.
 
She stopped giggling, but the smile remained.  “Sure, Mom likes you for some reason.  Visiting hours are until ten.”  Had anyone suggested earlier that evening that she would feel any lightening of her heart, much less be giggling and smiling, Buffy would have thought them insane.  Still, here she was in a cemetery with a creature she was supposed to be turning into so much ash, doing both.  Then again, Buffy had never really worked hard at ending this particular vampire for some reason she didn’t want to examine too closely.
 
“Want to come along? The mini-market is still open and we can pick up some grapes.”
 
“Is that a British thing?” Buffy was near to giggling again.  “Giles showed up this morning with about every kind there is and then sat and did the whole nervous eating thing till there were only the sour green ones left.”
 
“Suppose it is,” Spike acknowledged.  “We’ll get the sweet red ones then.”
 
~~~
 
“It feels a little like being a snoop.”  An elderly lady was answering a ‘man on the street’ question on the TV news.  “I mean, I understand there are clearly creatures…aliens…things…whatever they are.  We’ve all seen them on the news.  Still, to ask regular people to call in reports if they see anything odd with their neighbors or co-workers….well, that just seems too Nosey-Nelly to me.”  The female reporter who had asked the question turned a solemn gaze at the camera, “That’s the view from the street. Now back to you, Hal.”
 
Hal Fishman shook his head.  All the stories over his many years at the anchor desk at KTLA seemed trivial next to the current world situation.  He addressed the camera. “The governor has made it clear that until more details are released on this threat to humanity , no real identifying measures are in place for profiling this enemy.  The statements made today in Sacramento are merely a request for the public to be aware and to share any suspicions with the proper authorities.  Under no circumstances are citizens to allow mob mentality to take over.  Folks, if you see or know someone you think may be involved in these acts of terror, don’t try to be judge and jury.  Call the police!”  The camera switched to a side view as Hal spoke to a representative from the Governor’s office.
 
Joyce muted the TV and smiled at Spike and Buffy.  She grinned at the paper sack in the vampire’s hand. “Let me guess.  Grapes?”
 
“Sadly predictable,” Spike muttered and held out the sack for Joyce to help herself. 
 
“Had many visitors?  Buffy noted the various bouquets on the windowsill.
 
“Joe and Kate dropped by.  Giles was here, but you know that.  I was napping, though, and there could have been plenty more that got to listen to me snore and watch me drool.”  She looked at Buffy, examining her for signs of stress.  “Buffy, I’ll be fine, really.”
 
“I know, Mom.”
 
Joyce looked to the TV screen and shuddered.  “Seems like the whole world is suddenly sick in the head, doesn’t it?”  She looked at Spike with affection.  “The government is hinting around that they know what they are calling the source of the attacks on civilization.  They’re rattling the swords about giving law enforcement more tools--power, they mean.  There is talk about strengthening our intelligence capabilities to find out the plans of what they’re calling our ‘enemies’ before they act and finding them before there are more attacks.”
 
Spike snorted.  “Demons don’t usually have plans and certainly not any coordinated ones.  Most are bloody fools.  Why do you think one teenage girl in a generation was considered enough firepower to fight us off?”
 
“Well, I certainly won’t let Buffy go off on some globe-trotting demon expedition!”
 
“Darn!” Buffy jested, “There went my only chance for travel!”
 
“They’ll just have to keep coming here if you have to be the one to kill them.”  Joyce’s light tone belied the seriousness of the subject.
 
“Hellmouth makes that likely,” Spike agreed.  “Most demons just wind up killing each other.”
 
“Oh, I did have another visitor,” Joyce sounded annoyed to have forgotten.  “Don’t know why it slipped my mind.  Anyway, it was Riley, but I think he was more looking for you than wanting a chat with the brain challenged.”
 
“MOM!” Buffy admonished at the same time Spike had said, “Joyce!” in a similar tone of reproach. 
 “You are far from brain challenged.  If that berk made you feel that way, I’ll gladly go for the headache to rip his spleen out through his nose.”
 
“Calm down, attack vampire!  There will be no spleenectomies except by qualified doctors in the operating room.”  Buffy laughed.
 
“Riley was quite nice, Spike.  I think I’m just self-conscious.  I’m doing all right at the moment, but I think I’ve been saying some pretty strange things on occasion,”  Joyce sighed.
 
“So does Spike, but he doesn’t have your excuse,”  Buffy jibed.
 
“Hey!” Spike glowered at his favorite frenemy.
 
“So,” Spike began, hating to bring back the seriousness but needing to know, “When is the surgery?”
 
“Dr. McKennitt is planning on the day after tomorrow.  He wants me to rest a bit and observe my vitals before opening me up.”
 
“It doesn’t hurt when they start poking in the brain itself, so don’t fret.  Course they’ll give you anesthetic, so even better.”  Spike really wanted to ease Joyce’s likely fears.
 
Buffy and Joyce looked stricken.  Neither had given thought that the vampire had been put through brain surgery and more than likely had not been given pain killers.
 
“No nerve endings in the brain itself, so no worries.”  He didn’t have a clue that both women were wishing they had considered what Spike had been through with a bit more concern.  Buffy in particular was ashamed to think of the many jokes at the vampire’s expense that had passed her own lips.  Too late for apologies, and it didn’t look like he would even get why she felt the need.
Joyce squeezed his hand in gratitude and empathy.  “Thank you, Spike.  That eases my mind a bit.  I’m a bit of a coward at the idea of pain.”
 
“You’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met, Joyce Summers.”  Spike’s look showed he meant every word and Joyce’s face flushed with humility.
 
~~~
Spike saw Buffy home and accepted her offer of a cup of cocoa.  “Wow, wonder who it is at this hour?” Buffy questioned as the doorbell rang.  “Demons don’t usually ring the bell. Be right back!”
 
Spike bristled in annoyance, hearing a clear baritone voice with an altogether too familiar and friendly tone causing laughter from his Slayer.  That was HIS role in her life, thank you very much!
 
Buffy entered the kitchen followed by a male that looked like he had just stepped off the set of Baywatch.  “Spike, this is Nick Perkins.  His brother works with Xander and his sister-in-law is one of Mom’s best friends.”
 
Nick put out a large, well tanned hand and grinned in an agreeable manner.  “Nice to meet you, Spike.  Joyce speaks highly of you.”
 
It was hard to keep a sour attitude against that, but somehow Spike managed.  Something about the boy was off, but Spike couldn’t pinpoint it.  Likely it was just a bit of jealousy and seeing things that weren’t there.  “Can’t say the same.  Never heard of you.”
 
“Spike!”  Buffy rolled her eyes.  “Well, at least Mom could never have said he was rude.”  She turned a jaundiced eye on the vampire and muttered, “Behave!” too low for anyone but Spike to hear.  “Nick brought dinner over for me and Dawn.”
 
“So you’re a cook?” Spike was in fine form.  “Thought Harris was a carpenter?”
 
Nick didn’t seem to feel the hostility directed his way, or if he did, chose to ignore it.  “Yes, Xander is one of the best men with wood I’ve ever met.  Helped me put up all the cabinets in the Habitat for Humanity house we worked on last weekend.  I’m a drywall man myself.  Kate did the cooking,” he winked at Buffy, much to Spike’s frustration.  “No need to worry you’ll be poisoned.”
 
“Please, sit.  We’re just having a little hot chocolate and I’d be glad to fix you a cup.”  Buffy began preparing it before the man could answer. 
 
Nick took a seat across from Spike and ignored the looks of death directed his way.  “So, Spike, what do you do?”
 
“Mostly kill things,” Spike growled.
 
“AH, exterminator.  Good line of work. Never any end to the bug and rodent problem here in California.”
 
“Got that right,” Spike snapped, clearly meaning a pest of another sort.  This was HIS time with the Slayer.
 
“IF you have a business card, I’d be glad to recommend you if I run across anyone needing a fumigation,” Nick offered.
 
“Spike doesn’t have cards and has all the business he can handle, don’t you, Spike?”  Buffy glared at the fuming blonde.
 
“Well, if you do ever need to drum up more business, just let Buffy know.  She knows how to reach me,” he smiled ingratiatingly at her, to Spike’s disgust.
 
“Bet she does.” Buffy heard him, even though it looked like Nick missed it.
 
“Slayer, I’d best be shoving off.  Remember you sayin' you were about to turn in,” Spike hoped the overly tanned lifeguard would take the hint and leave too.
 
“Slayer?”
 
Buffy was flustered and glared daggers at Spike for the deliberate use of her title.  “Yeah, um … Spike heard me listening to some noisy heavy metal band once and never lets me forget it, right, Spike?”
 
“More the boy band type,” he muttered in disgust.
 
“I like a nice mix myself.  Change it up, keep it fresh.” Nick nodded to both his companions.
 
Buffy decided to get a bit back at the glowering vampire.  “Some people just stagnate.  Take Spike here, lost in the Eighties.  Latched onto Billy Idol and never let go.”
 
“That’s who you remind me of!”  Nick brightened and tapped the table causing Buffy to jump.  “Thought I’d seen you somewhere before, but now I see you just look like Mr. White Wedding!”
 
Nick pushed aside his nearly empty mug and rose.  “Since you were going to turn in early, guess I’ll go report back to Kate that you’re okay and able to feed when you want to.  I’m going to drop in on Joyce in the morning on my break.  We’re working a site next to the hospital, so I can scoot over.”  He turned that poster boy smile on Spike again. “Really nice to meet you, Spike.  Can’t wait to tell Joyce we finally met.”
 
Nick left by the back door and Spike wasted no time getting answers.  “That why you’re pushing the hall monitor out the door?”
 
“What?” Buffy was flustered.  Spike sounded almost jealous and that made no sense.  “NO!  Don’t get me wrong, Nick’s one heck of a good catch, and good people besides.  I think that would be a dream come true for Kate and even Xander, but no, a world of no.  I’m not dumping Riley for someone else.  I’m just not going to lead him on any further, that’s all.”
 
“Good.  Something wrong with that one,” Spike would have to do a bit of investigating.  Not that he thought he would have a shot at Buffy, but he didn’t want to just sit back and watch as another male walked in to take his place, or the place he wanted to be his at least.  “That Hobie Buchannon wannabe’s too smooth.”
 
“Hobie…?” Buffy puzzled out the reference and then laughed!  “You do watch too much Baywatch!  He’s older than Jeremy Jackson, but come to think of it, he does look a little like him.  You could do with a bit of smooth yourself, Mr. Rude and Obnoxious!”
 
“What can I say, baby, I’m evil,” Spike shot back with a smile and stood to leave.  “Best let you dig into the goodies then.  I’ll take patrol for you tomorrow, so you can rest up for your mum’s surgery.”
 
Buffy softened at the reminder of how kind Spike had been lately.  “Thanks, Spike, I appreciate it.  I was worried that I’d have to ask Riley, and since I’m planning on the big breakup pretty soon, that wouldn’t be fair.”
 
“You’re covered, and you’re welcome.”  Spike left in a fantastic mood.  Captain Cardboard was on his way out and he didn’t even know it yet…but Spike did!  Life was good at times. He punched his fist into the air in triumph.
 
~~~
November 24, 2000. Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
 
The waiting room was crowded with the nervous friends and family of Joyce Summers.  Tara and Willow held hands while Anya kept asking if there was anything she could get for anyone from the vending machines.  Giles sat stoically with only the occasional twitch and glance at the clock to give away his true mental state.  Xander paced.  Dawn had fallen asleep in exhaustion and slumped against Riley, who had shown up insisting his place was by Buffy’s side. 
 
As for Buffy, she was nearly jumping out of her skin.  Every ding, every loudspeaker announcement, every door opening or closing made her ready to flinch. She felt like she was in a vacuum with muffled voices and people far away, as if she were in a tunnel of some sort. 
 
Dawn woke with a start. “Wow!  Didn’t mean to do that.  I didn’t sleep much last night.  I was worried.”  She wiped a bit of drool from her lip and gave an apologetic look to Riley.
 
“Not a problem.  I never mind being a pillow for a lovely Summers woman.”  Riley grinned, but his longing look was directed at Buffy as he said it.
 
Giles frowned at the exceedingly inappropriate comment. 
 
Riley caught his look and shifted uncomfortably.  He was antsy, needing something, some release.  Buffy had scarcely spoken to him all evening and he’d sooo been there for her.  He’d given up a chance to help his old friends root out a nest of Fyrals to be here in her time of need and she had yet to give him so much as a smile.  He began to think of long dark hair and a needy mouth and wondered if Violet would be busy about now.  “You know, I hate to bail on you, but I did promise Graham to join him for something and my minister asked me to speak at a youth thing at the church tonight too.  Call me immediately when Joyce is out of surgery, okay?”
 
Buffy didn’t answer, didn’t even appear to have heard him.  Xander nodded and promised to call, so Riley headed for the south exit.  ‘Not like I can do anything to help anyway and Buffy has lots of people to sit with her.’
 
He turned down Oak Street towards the seedy part of town and the welcoming fangs that always made him feel necessary and special.  “One quick stop, that’s all.  Take the edge off,” he promised himself.
 
As the door closed on Riley’s retreating back there was a slight commotion at the nurse’s station that did get Buffy’s attention.  The shrill voice of the Charge Nurse rang out fierce and determined. “I’m not stupid.  I’ve lived in Sunnydale my whole life and seen the results of your kind.  I know what you are, unlike certain government officials without the balls to call it like it is.  This is a human place to take care of human people.  Get out before I see if this pencil’s long enough to do the job.”
 
Buffy saw Spike glowering at the enraged woman in uniform who had stepped out to prevent his entry into the waiting area.
 
“If I was here to kill anybody, you’d all be dead before you figured out what I am, bitch,” Spike threatened.  “I’m here to see about a friend.”
 
“Things like you don’t have friends,” the nurse dared.
 
Buffy had reached them by now.  “Spike, what are you doing here?”
 
The nurse looked at the girl who had been silently haunting her floor for hours in amazement.  “Miss, this thing isn’t right.  See?”  She pointed to a mirror that clearly showed Spike’s lack of reflection.  “I don’t know how to explain this to you, but he ...,” she pointed her thumb at Spike.
 
“Is a vampire, I know,” Buffy finished to the nurses utter shock.  “He’s also a friend of my mother’s.” She shot Spike a look of apology.  “And… of mine, sort of.”
 
Spike pointedly ignored the nurse from that moment on.  Buffy had called him a friend!  The rest of the world could take a flying leap.  “How’s Joyce?”
 
“Not out of surgery yet.”
 
“Came as soon as the sun went down.  Figured it would still be going on.”
 
“You figured right,” Buffy impulsively hugged the surprised vampire.  “Thanks for coming.”
 
Xander had watched the proceedings with growing disgust.  “What’s HE doing here?”  If looks could stake, Spike would be a matter for the custodian at that point.  “Waited till Riley had to leave to come sniffing around to see how to make things worse?”
 
“Xander, that’s enough!  Spike’s been worried about Mom too.  She’d want him here.  You know she thinks of Spike as a friend.”  Buffy surprised herself with the realization that every word was true.
 
Buffy noticed the nurse on the telephone and overheard, “That’s right.  Bold as brass here on the seventh floor.  I know you aren’t calling them what they are, but you did say to call in.  This isn’t a suspicion; there is no doubt.”
 
Buffy grabbed the receiver from her hand and slammed it down hard.  “Now, let’s go over this one more time.  1. Spike is a vampire. 2. We know that. 3. My mother, who is still in surgery fighting for her life, would want him here and what my mom wants is what she is going to get…am I starting to make my position clear? 4. You are going to call them back and claim the call was a prank and that the situation is handled, got it?”   Buffy was showing a side to this nurse that few humans ever got to see--pure Slayer.
 
She then turned to Xander, “And you are going to just shut up and let this go, or you can leave.”
 
The nurse backed away from the enraged girl but made no move toward the phone.  They were all startled by the voice of Dr. McKennitt, who had witnessed most of the conversation from Buffy’s acknowledgement of Spike’s undead status.  “Do as she asks, Mavis.  No one is causing any trouble here, right?”  He looked pointedly at Spike.
 
“Not here for trouble.  How’s Mrs. Summers?”
 
The doctor gave a short laugh before answering, “Clearly filled with surprises.  As for the surgery, she came through like a trooper.  There’ll be lots of post-op care, of course, and we’ll need to watch her closely, but it looks like we got the whole thing.”  He smiled at a beaming Buffy.  “Looks like some of her strength passed down to her girls.”
 
“When can I see her?” Buffy put her arm around Dawn, who had come to hear what the doctor had to say as well.
 
“She’ll be in recovery for a while, but should be coming around within the hour.”
 
“Thank you, Doctor,” She glared at Nurse Mavis, who was still trying to placate the person on the other end of her phone conversation, “for everything.”
 
“My pleasure.  I can’t wait to have that post-op conversation with Joyce,” he laughed and headed to the locker room, shaking his head in bemusement.  This was proving to be anything but just another ordinary case.
~~~