Avocation

Chapter 35

“Thorns, shattered glass, sickness, crying: all day/they attack the honeyed contentment. And neither the tower,/nor the walls, nor secret passageways are of much help./Trouble seeps through, into the sleepers’ peace./Sorrow rises and falls, comes near with its deep spoons,/and no one can live without this endless motion;/without it there would be no birth, no roof, no fence,/It happens: we have to account for it…” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet LV”

Neither Spike nor Buffy particularly wanted to go back to the school, since that would mean leaving Willow in the clutches of Faith and the Mayor. There wasn’t much of a choice, however, since they didn’t know how well city hall would be guarded, or where Willow would be held.

It was too dangerous for Willow for them to go charging in on a rescue mission.

Spike hated being the bearer of bad news, though. He hated the expression on Oz’s face when they told him and Xander that Willow had been caught. “We’re going to fix this,” Buffy said. “Oz, I swear we’re going to get her back.”

“We go back,” Xander said, uncharacteristically serious. “Full-out assault.”

Spike shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll see us coming, and they’ll kill her.”

“They know how much she means to us,” Buffy agreed. “And we have something they want.”

“You can’t be serious!” Wesley objected. “That box is key to the Mayor’s Ascension. If you give it back to him you’ll be putting the lives of everyone you love at risk.”

Xander glared at him. “This is Willow we’re talking about. I call that a fair trade.”

“The box must be destroyed!” Wesley insisted. He yelped as Spike slammed him back against the wall. “Spike, surely you see—”

“What I see is that we have a very simple choice,” he growled. “We can lose Willow now and stop the Mayor now, or we can get Willow back now and stop the Mayor later. I vote we stop the Mayor later.”

Wesley glared at him. “You’re not in charge here, even if you’d like to believe you are. You are—”

“Absolutely right.” Buffy’s voice was cold. “Spike is right. We stop the Mayor later. Maybe we’re back to square one, but I’m thinking Willow being alive makes up for that.”

Wesley shook himself free of Spike’s grip, turning to Giles. “Mr. Giles, surely you will talk some sense into them. There’s a duty that must be done here, and—”

Spike had seen Oz quietly go over to the pot they needed for the ceremony to destroy the Box of Gavrock. He’d been fairly certain that the boy was going to make the argument moot, and Spike had kept his mouth shut even though he could have stopped him.

After all, he’d probably do the same thing if it had been Buffy in the Mayor’s clutches.

Even if he was brassed off at the chit.

The crash silenced the crowd. Oz didn’t even say anything; he just took his seat at the table again.

Buffy set her jaw, turning to Giles. “Make the call.”

~~~~~

Willow was fairly sure that she didn’t like being in danger. At the same time, even through her dry mouth and rocketing heartbeat, she couldn’t regret it. Not when she didn’t fold, and not when she had gotten some alone time with the Books of Ascension, plus a few torn pages. If she made it out alive, Giles was going to be thrilled.

She didn’t doubt that she would make it out alive. Willow knew that Buffy would either come after her, or they would make a trade for her. She trusted the Slayer—and Spike. They were both really good at the hero-thing.

In fact, Willow was beginning to think that she might want to give being a hero a go. She could go to any university in America, and several in Europe, but what she most wanted was right here in Sunnydale.

Here, she got to help save the world on occasion. Plus, there was Oz, whom she didn’t want to leave behind, and her friends. Buffy would probably end up staying, and Spike was sticking around. Xander would still be here, at least after he got back from his trip around the 50 states.

Besides, if she went off to one of those big schools, Willow knew she’d be one smart girl among hundreds. In Sunnydale, she would be the big fish with the opportunity to be a real kick-ass Wicca.

So, by the time the Mayor told Faith that he’d made a deal to get his box back, Willow had figured out which college she was going to.

It was funny how clear things got when people were threatening to kill you.

~~~~~

Spike shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t like this, didn’t like the fact that they were actually going to make the trade, didn’t like the idea that they were going to trust the Mayor and Faith to do as they promised.

The bad guys never kept their promises. He knew that from experience.

There didn’t seem to be another way to do it, though, and Spike was ready to take action if necessary. At the first sign of foul play, he would show the Mayor just how quick a vampire could be. He’d have Willow safe and Faith dead in a heartbeat.

“It’s all locked up tight,” Oz declared, checking the last door.

Xander grimaced, giving his baseball bat an experimental swing. “That doesn’t make me feel trapped.”

“One way out means one way in,” Buffy said. “I want to see them coming.”

As if her words summoned them, the lights went out, throwing the cafeteria into darkness. Spike shifted immediately, the better to see by.

The unlocked doors flew open, and two vampires walked through, followed closely by the Mayor and then Faith with Willow in tow. The Mayor stepped out into the middle of the room, and Buffy moved to meet him.

Mayor Wilkins grinned like a kid. “Well, this is exciting! Clandestine meetings in the middle of the night—I feel like we should all be wearing trench coats.”

“Let her go,” Buffy ordered.

The Mayor shook his head. “Not until I have my box.”

Spike stepped out of the shadows. “Here it is. Come and get it.”

Mayor Wilkins looked over at Faith who moved forward, dragging Willow along with her. She snatched the box out of Spike’s hands at the same time that he made a grab for Willow, thrusting her behind him. “So this is the famous Spike,” the Mayor observed as the transaction was taking place. “Somehow I thought you’d be taller.”

“What can I say?” Spike replied. “Compact works better in my line of work.”

The Mayor’s expression remained affable, but his eyes narrowed. “I can imagine. Somehow I can’t imagine that you and a nice girl like Buffy have much in common. You’re a killer, a mercenary. You fight for the highest bidder, and she has a sacred destiny.” He looked at Buffy. “Where’s he going to be when the money runs out?”

Buffy glared at him. “That’s none of your business.”

“And what happens when you start getting older and Spike stays the same age?” Mayor Wilkins asked. “You know, I married my Edna May in ought-three, and I was with her right up until the end. Not a pretty picture, I can tell you. Wrinkled and senile and cursing me for my youth.”

“What makes you think I’ll survive to die of old age?” Buffy asked. “After all, I’ve died once already.”

Whatever else the Mayor might have said was cut off by Snyder’s entrance and all hell breaking loose.

The policeman who ended up holding the box had apparently never heard of Pandora, since he let his curiosity get the best of him. The demon-spider leaped from the box onto his face, and his screams alerted the rest of the room to the fact that something was loose. Thankfully, the box fell in such a way as to prevent any more of the creatures from escaping.

Spike was not terribly fond of spiders. It wasn’t a phobia—he just didn’t like them. Seeing the giant, spider-like thing coming out of the box was going to have his skin crawling for days.

It didn’t help that the thing had disappeared into the darkened room after the policeman collapsed. Spike felt sorry for the man, but at the same time he felt it served him right for peeking into a closed box when he had no idea what might be inside.

Of course, that left the rest of them to deal with the creature, with no hint as to its whereabouts.

Spike could hear Wesley’s whimpers behind him, but he ignored the man, concentrating instead on trying to locate the thing. “Do you hear it?” Buffy murmured.

“No, I—” Spike felt the thing drop down on his back, and he let out a startled, “Bloody hell!”

“Spike!” Buffy quickly yanked it off, throwing it against one wall where it left a slimy trail as it slid to the floor.

“I wouldn’t leave that box open,” the Mayor warned as another spider-like creature tried to skitter out.

Faith hurried over to the box, slamming the lid shut and smashing the creature. She gathered the box up in her arms, backing away from Buffy and the rest of them.

“Is that all of them?” Oz asked.

“Uh, no,” the Mayor said cheerfully. “There are about fifty billion of those little suckers in there. Raise your hands if you’re invulnerable.” There was no reply. “No? Well, we’ll just be going then.”

The vampire guards scrambled out the door just ahead of the Mayor, and the remaining police officer followed close on Mayor Wilkins’ heels. Only Snyder remained behind, staring at them. “Snyder? You in there?” Buffy asked.

Snyder glared at all of them impartially. “You! Why can’t you all be selling drugs like normal students?” He turned on his heel and left.

As the others turned to make sure Willow was okay, Spike slipped back into the shadows and then out the door. There was no need for him to stay.

Not tonight, anyway.

~~~~~

The euphoria over Willow choosing to stay in Sunnydale for college was dimmed by the knowledge that Spike wasn’t talking to her.

When Buffy realized that he’d left the cafeteria without a word to anyone, she had immediately called his cell phone in spite of the lateness of the hour.

He hadn’t answered.

Buffy called the next day during her lunch period, and Spike still didn’t answer. She had made sure to wear her bracelet, and she wanted to be sure that he was going to be at home before she came over after school.

She wasn’t sure what to do at this point. Buffy could let Spike be, or she could try talking to him. The Slayer had the feeling that the more mature response would probably be to talk it out, but she really would rather avoid that at all costs.

But she missed him. A lot.

That was why she wound up on his doorstep as soon as she had loaded up on mochas with Willow, pounding on the door when Spike didn’t answer right away. “Come on, Spike, I know you’re there,” she muttered, not quite ready to start yelling at him and risk the neighbors noticing.

Technically, Buffy didn’t actually know that Spike was there, since he had been known to go out occasionally during the day. He might be running an errand or looking for information on the Mayor’s Ascension, or any number of other things.

Or he could just be refusing to talk to her.

Buffy tried banging on the door one more time, deciding that if Spike still wouldn’t answer, she’d just go home.

“Will you shut the bloody hell up?” Spike demanded, jerking the door open and glaring at her. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Buffy winced. Spike was shirtless, barefoot, and his hair was tousled, which meant that she’d definitely made him get up. Probably not the best way to begin a conversation.

Of course, he looked hot. Really hot.

“Sorry.”

Still frowning, he asked, “So what’s so important?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Buffy replied. “You didn’t stick around last night, and—”

“You didn’t need me there. Red was safe and the job was done.” Spike turned on his heel and stalked back into the dim interior, but he left the door open behind him, and Buffy took that as an invitation to enter.

“Spike, I—”

“Are we done?” he asked, a mixture of anger and hurt and defeat in his tone. “Is that what this means, Slayer, because I don’t have a sodding clue as to what you want.”

Buffy fidgeted, her fingers playing with the bracelet he’d given her. “We’re not done, Spike. Not unless you want to be.”

“You’re going off, aren’t you?” Spike asked. “To some fancy school?”

She laughed bitterly. “I was fooling myself. I’m the Slayer, this is the Hellmouth. I don’t get a ‘get out of jail free’ card.” Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you were okay with me leaving.”

“Okay?” Spike asked. “Not okay. I’d do it if that’s what you really wanted, but you said you wanted to stay.” The words came out as an accusation, but Spike wasn’t sure he wanted to take that back. “You said you wanted to stay, and then—I couldn’t find you.”

There was more to his words than the simple statement of fact. Buffy hadn’t been wearing her charm, and Spike hadn’t been able to locate her. It was about her saying one thing and doing another without giving Spike a heads-up. It was about shutting him out.

It was about them living in different worlds, like the Mayor had said. The difference was that the Mayor had no idea what they were willing to give up to be together.

In truth, neither Buffy nor Spike knew the answer to that themselves.

The Slayer couldn’t have articulated any of that, but she understood it at the same gut-level that Spike seemed to understand her. Not that she always managed to do her best for the people around her. Buffy knew—based on the very occasional flash of insight—that she could be really self-centered. She could take the people she loved most for granted. It was a measure of her trust for Spike that she believed that he would always be there.

It was a measure of her love that she couldn’t imagine him not being around.

“I’m sorry.” Buffy hated apologizing, but she knew she wasn’t going to get out of it this time. What she wasn’t able to say was that it had largely been about watching Willow dithering over all her opportunities to go to virtually any school in the world. It had been Cordelia’s snide comments about how Buffy was never going to go anywhere, because there would always be the Hellmouth to guard. It had been the natural desire of an adolescent to get away from home, to go somewhere new. She had wanted that, or thought she had.

But she didn’t know how to put any of it into words. Nor could she tell him that the best thing about staying in Sunnydale was his presence.

Spike didn’t appear to be mollified in the least. “Wish you would tell me these things, at least.” There were the faint signs of a pout on his face. “I don’t bloody well intuit these things, Buffy. You can’t expect me just to read your mind and know what’s going on.”

“I know.” She winced, knowing that she hadn’t done very well by Spike. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” He trailed off, running a hand through his already-tousled hair, seeming not to know how to take her apology, or what to say next.

Buffy cleared her throat. “I woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Spike replied.

They were suddenly back in the awkward stage again, as if they hadn’t long since grown out of it. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to.” Spike spoke quickly, not sure why he wanted her to stay, but not wanting her to go either. He was still angry, but he’d missed her company.

Buffy hesitated. “Do you just want to watch TV or something? I mean, you could maybe get a nap in, and I’ll just stay for a while.”

“That’d be alright,” Spike replied, trying to sound as if it didn’t make any difference at all whether or not she stayed or went. As though he hadn’t just asked her to stick around.

As though his eyes didn’t reveal his longing. Spike never had been all that good at concealing his emotions. His eyes gave him away every time when it came to matters of the heart.

That’s why he’d liked doing business so much. The heart didn’t have to get involved.

“Okay, then I’ll—” Buffy stopped and muttered. “Oh, the hell with it.”

She had crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, pulling his head down and kissing him before Spike had a chance to figure out what she was doing. He had been standing there looking so good—she just wanted a taste.

Spike returned her kiss hungrily, his tongue meeting her own. Her hands were doing some wandering, as were his, and when she pulled away briefly to catch her breath, Spike took a step back. “What are we doing, Buffy?”

“We were kissing,” she replied. “And we were doing a really good job of it. Could we resume?”

He frowned. “I’m still pissed off.”

Buffy sighed. “Then no kisses?”

She was pouting, and Spike felt himself softening ever so slightly. “Don’t spring that kind of thing on me again.” He glared at her, showing no sign that his anger was fading. “You can’t just decide what you’re going to do and expect me to go along with it.”

“I’m the Slayer, Spike,” Buffy shot back, stung. “That’s what I do. I make decisions and plans, and then we carry them out.”

Spike shook his head. “No, luv. We make decisions and plans, and then we carry them out. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what’s going on, and I can’t be your partner if you’re the one who’s always leading.” He set his jaw stubbornly, knowing that she could easily tell him to sod off. “And I won’t accept less than a partnership, Buffy. Done the other, and it nearly killed me.”

Buffy wanted to argue, but Spike had a point. She didn’t want him to have a point, but from the expression on his face, he wasn’t going to accept less than an equal partnership. If she tried to run roughshod over him, she might still have a patrolling partner, but she wouldn’t have a boyfriend.

She didn’t want to lose either.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You’re right.” Buffy nearly choked on the words. She really didn’t like admitting that she was wrong, no matter who she was doing the admitting to. “Leaving you out of the loop is a bad idea.” He raised an eyebrow. “And if I forget my bracelet at home again I’ll at least give you a call.”

Spike’s face softened completely, the look in his eyes almost tender. “Don’t want to keep you on a short leash, pet. That’s not what this is about. We both have our own lives. Right now, though, with everything that’s going on, I think we need to stick close together.”

Buffy took a deep breath, leaning in towards him, feeling a sense of relief when his arms came around her. “I want you close,” she admitted.

“Glad to hear it.” Spike kissed her, his caresses creating a slow burn between the two of them. He wasn’t deluding himself; Buffy would try to shut him out again. That was just the way she was. Now, however, Spike had a promise that he could remind her about the next time she tried it.

No matter how much you might love someone, it never hurt to have a little leverage.