Title: Ancient shades.
Author: Kur
Disclaimer: Characters don’t belong to me but to Joss
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Spike & Buffy
Spoilers: Season 3
Summary: Set during Season 3, Buffy and Spike are figuring out their relationship, while the Mayor gets a Big Bad ally… This is a sequel to “Shadows of the past”...
Thanks: To Melissa, best beta ever. See, I haven’t changed one single word. Thanks, thanks, thanks!!!!!

The tall trees were wrapped in a white glow. A round, full moon shone high on the sky patching the forest glade with silver spots. A bonfire crackled and roared in the middle of it, the noise never lessening the last whimpers of those who hung from the tallest and solitary oak that stand in the valley. Their limbs moved spasmodically as if they were marionettes, their strings yanked now and then by a tired hand.

A man stood by the fire. Orange and red drawings danced on the dark velvet surface of his long gown. The crown on his head gleamed with flashes of gold. Three big horns pointed at the moon and then to the flames every time he swirled around them. Finally he stopped and turned round, facing the other two men that had been kneeling in the shadows of the distant bushes. One of his long twisted fingers commanded them to come nearer. As one of them approached, the glazed, white eyes of the wizard glimmered with moon rays. His left hand stretched out. A casket appeared on his palm. Silver and ivory patterns embellished its ebony frame.

“The Vessel of Thorns”. His voice rumbled in his throat. A deep dark cavern. “Use it well.”

The man’s hands shook a little, thrilled at the simple touch of the little chest. When he opened the lid a soft greenish glow wavered at its core. A crystal, red flask twinkled on the black satin. The colour of blood. The colour of life. A sinister smile flashed for a second on his thin lips. He finally raised his head and nodded.

Five naked people appeared from behind the trees. They cut the ropes of the suspended bodies and threw all of them to the fire. The flames grew to the sky, welcoming the offering with a howl and a satisfied, shrieking yell.


CHAPTER 1

“Joyce, stay away from him! Please, invite me in! Please!”

Joyce was horrified. That man standing at the doorstep… She had never been able to bear him. There was something in him that emanated invisible as a rush of foul air… He was so different from the gentle Englishman sitting at the island. She had never had a civilized conversation with that dark man who was yelling at her from the threshold as that she had been having with the blonde well-educated man. Of course he’d done certain wild things. She even remembered hitting him with a shovel but every young fellow got a little wild nowadays and she wasn’t going to blame him for being in a rock band. She herself kept in mind those days in which she went a bit out of control back in her time so… She wished her daughter had chosen him instead… Hadn’t he helped her after all? Not to mention he was really handsome. And by the way he had talked about his fiancée… He certainly had a good, caring heart.

“ You get out of this house or I’ll stake you myself!” She yelled at Angel.

Spike was truly amused. Watching his grandsire’s desperate intents was more than he’d ever expected. He couldn’t but jump behind Joyce’s back, making funny faces. Laughing in secret. He had never seen Angel so out of control, so…rejected. Rejected... The word tasted like manna in his mouth. Like a mouthful of Slayer’s blood. Speaking of whom… Buffy’s hand pushed him hard and he didn’t even fight back. He lay there, sprawled on the wooden surface of the kitchen counter while her eyes took in the picture. Two cups still steaming and a bowl of… marshmallows! She sighed and shook her head. Why on earth was he there again?


Angel’s gaze jumped from the disgust painted all over Joyce’s features to the tiny hand of Buffy resting flatly on Spike’s chest till finally it stopped on his wicked, shining smirk.

“Buffy, let me in! He’s even more dangerous when he’s drunk!” he shouted.

“It’s not necessary”. After the plea in her mother’s eyes, she decided it’d be better not to give an invitation.

Spike’s smirk could have set the kitchen on fire. Joyce finally shook the fear aside and nearly ran to the door just to slam it on Angel’s face.

“Buffy, why don’t you just sit dear? I’ll put the kettle again and you can have a cup with us.”

“Mom, I think…” Her ass crashed on the stool at the mockery in the blue gaze. She hadn’t realized her hand was still pressed against his stomach. “And you’re here with my mother because…?, she hissed.

“Your mother is an extraordinary, lovely lady”, he said with a radiating smile. Joyce blushed like a teen and put the cups on the counter. Buffy squinted, full of doubts. Was this payback? A delayed revenge? She couldn’t but sip the hot cocoa, astounded by the way her mother chatted with him. She was so obviously relaxed. She was enjoying it! Enjoying talking to a serial killer! Of course nothing like that had merely passed through Joyce’s mind. Buffy had noticed that her mother tended to put aside that spooky idea of vampires, demons and “the slayer” as if she were discarding rotten apples. And Spike! What was he playing at? All polite and refined as if he were some Victorian gentleman… Wait, bad choice of words… But he wasn’t anymore! ‘I’ve never seen her that comfortable with Angel… It’s not that we ever had any talking-over-hot cocoa meeting. But… hey, she was terrified of him!’

“Okay, time to talk?” She almost broke down the cup. Her gaze was made of green marble. “Outside would be great.”

“Oh, Buffy… I don’t think so… - Joyce shot nervous looks at the back door, - he might be… you know…there?”

Buffy frowned and spread her hands. The palms faced the ceiling. “What?”

“Maybe you mother is jumpy ‘cause your little bum-boy?” Spike whispered with a chuckle. “Don’t worry Joyce. I’ll go out first. See if the bastard is still around.”

Buffy couldn’t believe it. Relief washed over Joyce’s face as a cleansing tide. She was about to shout about how evil that horrid bleached monster was when her mother’s next words hit her better than a Fryarl demon.

“Why don’t you tell him to stay for dinner? He knows everything about 19th. Century art. You didn’t tell me he was an expert.”

“Expert? Expert?!!! He’s only playing with you!!! He’s a bloodsucker expert, that’s what he is!!!” Words rammed through her brain. Joyce’s smile stopped them to flow from her lips.

“I don’t think he’ll stay.” That. Stupidest line ever. Her mother could be the most insistent person in the galaxy. She knew damned well.

“Ask him anyway.” Of course, and that meant don’t come back without him. Shit.



When she stepped on the porch, Buffy’s face was the colour of a red flag screaming danger. He was sitting on the bonnet of his DeSoto. A big black crow on a big black perch. His feet were dangling in the air and a grin swinging along with them.

“I thought you were drunk.”

“Oh, and that was your mind talking by itself or laughing boy words?”

Buffy sighed feeling her fists begging to hit his face. She swallowed as hard as she could. “Where are my friends?” Her eyes were tiny slots. He had the nerve to look clueless. “They are missing, you are here.”

He curled his lips, his tongue licking his teeth. “Okay, you’ve busted me. You don’t need to worry, love. They’re fine. At the factory actually. Those kids needed a time to be alone… Want a ride?” he offered jumping from the car and opening the door for her.

Buffy grimaced in disbelief. What was he talking about? Saying stupid things and seeing ghosts where… Wait a minute. What was he implying? Xander and Willow? She nearly laughed out loud. Loony vamp. As if she wouldn’t have known… She dismissed his senseless words while fidgeting on the seat. The corner of her treacherous left eye kept jumping at his profile every time it had a chance.

Spike suddenly pulled up. The Magic Shop. Yellow police tapes across the door. She couldn’t move even after he got out of the car and kicked the shop door opened. “Well, are you coming or not?”

“Why are we here?” Being alone with him had not to be that disturbing. She had a knot in her stomach… And there was something really wrong with her cheeks. Maybe it was the chocolate. Too hot…

“Oh, I’m looking for something…” He dismissed her doubts with a swirl of a wrist. The black polish nails shimmered under the street lamp.

“The only blood available here you just got it so…” She barely believed her ears. He’d killed the lady who owned the shop and she, THE SLAYER, was just casual about it. She should have staked him right there.

His amused eyes travelled along her shape. His head tilted to the side. “I’ve always wondered… You liked being a toff, didn’t you? I mean, you acted so differently… As a woman, I could say…”

She just stared at him. Her clenched fist didn’t even rise. Odd. Odder was the painful twitch in her guts.

“You know, that night in the carriage… that ponce had a huge hard-on for you baby.” His left hand climbed down his body to affirm his words.

Finally her fist connected with his nose. “You’re disgusting.”

His smile never left his face as he wiped out the blood of one nostril and walked into the shop. “You don’t know how much. Anyway, - he went on as he picked one jar after another from the shelves. He looked at each one thoroughly, as if his speech was written in the labels, - Peaches is back I see. What? All love and birds singing again?”

“We are friends…” Why in hell she was explaining anything to him? Why on earth she had picked that lame, pathetic excuse? She certainly had become brainless. Maybe he hadn’t only eaten the shop lady but cast a spell on the slayer as the cherry on the cake.

Spike shook a finger as if he was admonishing a little kid. “You’ll never be friends. You simply can’t. What is there between you? Are you shagging him?” His eyes looked at her from above a green flask. They were like a laser beam, cutting her flesh to reach her most inner thoughts. “And please don’t tell me it’s love. You don’t know what love is.”

Buffy squeezed her fingers around a candle leaving her fingerprints on the wax. “And you do know…?”

“ ’Course I do, - he left the jar and sat on the counter, lighting a cigarette. “Love is blood, you see. Blood screaming inside you to work its will. And if there’s something remotely screaming inside you… well, I’m deaf as a corpse.”

“You ARE a corpse.” She stated with glimmering, sharp eyes.

Spike chuckled. “But bloody handsome, ah? Okay, let’s go.”

“I thought you needed…”

“Time. But I think it’s enough for that friend of yours to make his move. I don’t trust him, though. That whelp is as smart as a rat. No, wait. Rats are smart!”

“Craziness is catching, isn’t it?” Her jaws were so tight she’d have probably cracked nuts till Christmas.

“Yeah, like brooding it seems. Come on, pet. Smile a little. It suits you…” His big hand wafted on to her cheek as a cold breeze. Only a moment. She fought back the strong urge to close her eyes and give in to the sensation. “Ooops…”

“What? What?” Her heart had skipped one beat when his palm drew away.

“I think we’re in trouble…” He rolled her to face the gang of vampires staring at them. “Hello Lenny.”

“Don’t tell me – Buffy stepped backward into the shop – friends of yours. I so dislike you!”

“Oh, come on love – he closed the door behind him throwing a bookcase against it – this is going to be fun! You certainly need some. You know, frowns and tears aren’t good for your skin. Others things are good too but this is not the time to point them out, I guess.”

“They are too many…” She sighed at the sight of the door been forced by four furious vamps. They jumped over the bookcase seeking Spike’s shape. “Oh, shit. I hate you! And what the hell are you laughing at?”

She detested that particular quality of him. How could he be laughing his guts out in a middle of a fight? They were only two, for Christ’s sake! That gang was up to nine. Even ten. And she had no weapons, and… Irresponsible creature! Both! And now she was channelling Giles. If one of those vamps had the remote chance of hurting her, that bleached head would hang from her ceiling till the day she died! As a punch bag. She ducked behind the counter searching for some useful weapon. Nothing around. Only a chair… that would suit! She broke it in halves, sending a splintered leg flying towards Spike’s hand. “And I would have aimed to his damned dead heart!” Two vampires launched at her and she kicked the rolling ladder sending them to the ground. Her makeshift stake plundered into their hearts.

Spike was really enjoying this. How could he ever think he wasn’t going to get that fun again? Yes, Dru’d left him. Granted. But… he shove a sliver of a violet jar into the vamp’s eye, truth was that he’d have fought back her stupid words. “Being soft…” But there was that blighter Lenny to prove her wrong. The fat demon first punch connected straight with his nose. Too tired of that too. And her other words… He back kicked the stupid minion behind him and whacked Lenny’s face. They were true as well. It wasn’t that he had told Dru anything. He didn’t need too. She could smell it. See it. Taste it. He grabbed onto the vamp’s jacket pulling him around. But she was seeing something from another time. Another century. From when he was a pathetic human. Lenny’s face crashed against the table.

Buffy hit one of the demons that had cornered her against the counter while she kicked the other’s balls. “I should have stayed at home. Or maybe I should have left him with my mother having… I’m mad.” She yanked one of the vampires’ head bashing it against the glass of the counter. “There’s no other explanation. How could I leave him, no less, with MY MOTHER?!” The other one kicked her back. She stumbled but made a sweep kick that made him fall just onto the stake she was holding. “I can’t trust him. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust him. One hundred times written on my mind’s board.” The front window collapsed.

Spike was made of a unique and self-proud smile. It lit his face like a theatre spot. “There! See if I’m soft.” He wiped the dust of his hands as he watched Buffy fighting. His golden warrior… The massive blast of the window made him duck. Sounded as a storm roaring inside the walls. Six vampires charged at him. This wasn’t Lenny’s payback. Definitely. Something more was going on here. He crouched down at Buffy’s command. Flying jars passed above his head as glittering crystal bubbles. Holy water. Smart. He flinched when a few drops fell onto his hands and his left eyebrow. But nothing could erase his grin. The pitiable army ran away like feeble rabbits. He stood up, turning his head around to look at Buffy from above a shoulder. “See, I told you it’s going to be fun. A decent spot of violence. A brilliant bash. If you don’t count the lack of beer.”

“If you want to keep that heart of yours intact, let’s get out of here. Now.” Buffy went out of the shop with her chin nearly pointing at the sky. Her back was as stiff as if she was using a corset again. She didn’t allow her left eye to move from the windscreen just once. She knew how to control herself, damn it. She had had strength of mind. She still had. Will power. That one which had helped her to survive in another city, far away of all the people she loved. That one that had stopped her tears each and every night when she managed to fall asleep tired enough not to have disturbing dreams. Dreams of blue eyes and blue silk. Dreams of cold lips and cold streets. That one that had put a gag against her mouth every time Willow questions had stepped on dangerous ground. That same one that had rooted her feet to the ground despite the crazy urge to run away when Angel appeared out of the blue to kneel in front of her and hugged her waist. Yes, she had willpower. It didn’t matter how strong his charm was. ‘Cause, after all, it was all it was. Charm, a past attraction for a man that had been dead for over a century. A clueless fascination for a demon that fit in all the hated and prohibited files. No reasonable justification for it.
The factory was as empty and creepy as a forgotten tomb. Which it was. Even her dreams had been buried in it.

“Somebody has been here.” Spike stated, raising his head to the air, sniffing like a wild animal would do. “I smell blood.” Oh, hell! Wrong choice of words… “You know… I guess they have escaped. Which is more than I expected from them. Well, not Red. She’s a smart bint.” Talk, talk, and remove that killing gaze from her green eyes.

“You better pray for them to be okay.” Buffy pointed a shaking finger to his figure before she turned round and left. Too many things to face. Too many memories and the pain in her heart for past choices, past nightmares. He was the worst. Tantalizing her with his mere presence, which sent her mind to sink into a miasma of painful and not allowed thoughts.




Buffy couldn’t believe it. He had been right after all. How could she be so ignorant to her own friends’ feelings? Maybe she’d been too much wrapped in her own emotions, in her own entangled maze. Sometimes she just wanted to tell Angel the truth. There’s nothing between us. There hasn’t been for a long, long time. But she wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t prepared to confess to everybody what a liar she was. How many things she had kept in a little box along with a necklace and a pair of glasses. Her confused eyes faced the façade of Angel’s mansion. Another of those horrible maggots squirmed beneath her skin.

“Hey, I was wondering when you were coming.” Angel stood up and began to walk towards her. Something made him stop. Her gaze, her distant stance. Reminded him of…

“I’m not coming back. Spike told me…”

“Spike? Spike told you…?” His eyebrows were a black bridge over his wrinkled forehead. When had she started to listen to that fiend?

“We’re not friends. We never were. Lovers? Maybe once. And I can fool Giles, I can fool my friends but I can’t fool myself. Or Spike for some reason.” She whispered the last words as though she was accepting it just to herself.

Angel’s mouth was a thin line of disgust. “Spike?” It seemed he could only repeat that name. “What does he have to do with this?” And with all that happened in the past year, he would have liked to add.

Buffy shook her head and shrugged. “He made me think…”

“Oh, made you think.” A mockery rang in his voice. “So tell me why I’ve this feeling there’s something you haven’t told me. Since those days, I mean. More than a truce you did?”

“What are you talking about?” Maybe he knew. Maybe he had seen her in that alley. But that was impossible! He would have said… The accusation in his eyes finally made her understand. “Of course not!”

“Well, trying eagerly to please a killer… Makes me wonder…”

“I’m not trying to please anybody! Maybe only myself! For the first time in… ever!”

“What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing!”

“So please tell me, how it comes that you have never killed him? Not even today after seeing him alone with your own mother?”

No answer for that. Well, not an answer she was going to share with him anyway. “I’m leaving now.” Buffy left without looking back. For some strange reason she felt full of fresh air. Relieved. It hadn’t been the best way to set things straight but it’d do for that moment. Stupid bleached vampire had served for some purpose after all. And she hadn’t even needed to ask him for dinner.



“Buffy, is that you honey? Hurry up, dear. Dinner is almost ready!” Joyce hadn’t lost that teen’s cheerful spirit from the early night. She would. As soon as she told her… “Wash your hands and join us in the kitchen!”

“Us? Us? Oh, crap!”

tbc...