Chapter 9: Staking Angelus
As she made her way through her second graveyard of the night, Buffy was feeling terrible. Everything in her life seemed to be going horribly wrong, these days. And that little war between her and Cordelia over who was to be Homecoming queen was really the least of it all. It didn’t matter that it was splitting the gang; the competition would be over in two days, Cordelia would receive a good lesson in humility, and the Scoobies would get back to normal. That really wasn’t what was worrying her. Although she wished it was. Life would have been infinitely simpler if the biggest thing she had had to worry about was a stupid popularity contest. Instead, she had to worry that her greatest foe was back and currently chained to a wall. Soon, she was going to stake him.
Wasn’t she?
Ever since she had stumbled upon Spike’s prisoner almost two weeks before, she thought of it day and night, repeating the words, trying to believe them.
I am going to stake Angelus.
Then, all too often, the last word eventually turned into ‘Angel’, and the thought was suddenly unbearable. Even after all this time spent trying to reconcile in her mind that they were two faces of the same coin, even after seeing Spike and how much his soul had not changed him, she still had trouble thinking of Angel and Angelus as the same person. Still had trouble accepting that her lover was gone for good. That it wasn’t he currently chained in the mansion.
“Good thing I’m not here to kill you or you’d be dead already.”
The partly mocking words stopped her dead in her tracks and she spun, already punching at the vampire behind her before she had seen him. He didn’t move. Didn’t parry, didn’t jump back, didn’t even seem surprised. He merely wiped at the blood trickling from his nose with the back of his hand once she took a step back.
“What do you want?” she shot at him, annoyed that he had so blatantly managed to surprise her.
“My, aren’t we chipper,” he commented dryly. “Something bothering you, Slayer? Didn’t get your good night kiss from your boy?”
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t happy that Spike had been around enough to notice that she had – no, had had – a boyfriend, and it sounded way too much like he was taunting her about having lost that relationship.
“The only thing bothering me,” she snapped back, “is why I didn’t stake a certain vampire yet. And yes, that would be you, Spikey.”
He didn’t have the decency to look even slightly worried.
“Because I’m useful, that’s why. I heard.”
“Useful?” she interrupted with a dry chuckle. “You’re useful? You’re a pain in the ass. Useful is the last thing I’d call you.”
“If you would just listen for a minute,” he said with irritation, “I’m sure you’d change your mind.”
Turning her back on him, she strode away. “But I don’t want to listen,” she called over her shoulder. “Last time I did, you convinced me not to put down a rabid dog. What would you do this time? Tell me that Faith is evil?”
She walked away, glad he didn’t come after her. She had been lying, to him and to herself, when she affirmed that he had convinced her not to stake Angelus. Even if he had wanted her to do it, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to. Still, she was wondering why he didn’t want the soulless vamp staked. What could he want from him? One more thing to worry about. She worried too much. She felt like she hadn’t laughed or really smiled in forever.
Apparently, Scott had felt the same way, because that was part of the reason he had given her when he had broken up with her a few days before. Strangely enough, she couldn’t make herself care that much about it. It seemed insignificant when compared to the rest of her problems.
Compared to Angelus, few things were significant.
Spike was seething as he watched Buffy walk away and refuse to listen to him. He had gone out of his way to find information after overhearing a hint of new Hellmouth player in a demon bar, and now it was for naught, since she didn’t even want to listen to what he had discovered. Silly bint. He would show her how much of a pain he could be, that would teach her.
He spent the rest of his night gathering more information, following trails and tips toward his mysterious vampire. By morning, he wasn’t any further along than when he had talked to Buffy earlier. He was of half a mind to give up and simply watch it all play out; but after a long day stuck inside the mansion with his irritating guest, he decided he needed the action. At least, it gave him a purpose clearer than wandering alone in graveyards looking for random vampires to stake.
It took him all night, but he finally found what he was looking for in the person of a vampire called Trick. The guy was apparently becoming the closest thing to a Master that Sunnydale had.
“I’ve heard you’re having a little party with the Slayers,” he said as soon as he was introduced to the other vamp. “Is it too late for a fellow to join the fun?”
Frowning, Trick signaled his minions to step back. Spike didn’t relax in the slightest.
“And I have heard that a blond vampire is already having fun, staking minions and barely risen fledglings. Would that be you, by any chance?
Spike had thought his growing reputation would precede him, so he was ready for the question. He pushed a hard smile to his lips and inclined his head slightly in acquiescence.
“Survival of the fittest and all that rot,” he commented with a shrug. “Less cannon fodder for the Slayers to train on increases the odds for the most skilled of us to take them down. The name’s Spike, by the way.”
A raised eyebrow was the first indication that Trick had heard the name before. Good.
“I see,” the vamp commented with a half smile. “So you don’t need me to tell you Slayers are not exactly easy to kill. I guess I could make an exception and let you in as a late player.”
Spike couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his lips. He was in. Then, after going through the rules, Trick announced the amount of the entry fee, and Spike’s smile disappeared instantly. He hadn’t thought about that. Fuck.
After Trick showed him the door, sunrise was too close for Spike to do much more than return home and the hell his life had become. Because living with Angelus was exactly that now that he had begun talking again. And just like Spike knew the brunet didn’t have a soul, Angelus had guessed about Spike’s and was constantly reminding him about kills they had done together, the bloodiest and most violent of them. It was getting harder and harder for Spike to justify his not staking his grand-sire. Still he couldn’t do it, pinning his hopes that Willow would come through with something. He desperately wanted to talk to Angel, wanted to hear him say that it got better with time. Wanted the words that he would never receive.
He ignored the soulless vampire the best he could; and after his nightly inspection of how well the chains were holding against Angelus’ constant pulling, he retreated to his room. Even if he was angry about the way she had treated him, Spike couldn’t let Buffy and the other slayer get hurt if he could do something about it. Helping them wouldn’t make up for the slayers he had killed, but that wasn’t why he was doing it anyway. Somehow, these deaths weren’t the heaviest ones on his conscience. Both girls had known what they were doing when he had taken them on; both of them had been good fighters. And the soul couldn’t completely silence the demon when it pointed out that slayers and vampires had fought for millennia, it was the order of things.
Thinking along these lines however was too close to accepting that feeding and killing was a natural process for vampires, and that it had little to do with good and evil. Spike couldn’t let himself follow that path. Thankfully, he had Angelus close to remind him that more often than not, vampire did equal evil; and since the brunet had trained him well, he had to be evil too. No relief to be found in thinking he had only done what he was supposed to.
If he had known where she lived, he would have gone to Faith and tried to convince her something bad was brewing. He didn’t though, so that wasn’t an option. The only other person he could go to was the Watcher. The idea wasn’t appealing, but he went to Giles’ flat right after sunset. As he arrived, the Watcher stepped out the front door, dressed in a tuxedo that Spike barely noticed as he tried very hard not to look as if he was hiding anything. He doubted that Giles would be as indecisive as Buffy about what to do with Angelus.
His warning given, Spike hesitated but finally declined to go with Giles, afraid that his anger at Buffy might get the better of him. Not that he would have hurt her, but getting into a shouting match where her mates could hear might not be the best thing to do when they shared such a heavy secret.
To say that the Slayer pissed me off doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt when she ignored me. Here I was, trying to give her important information that could have meant life or death for her and the other girl, and she dismissed the tip because it came from me. She had been childish about my help; and it was even more annoying because she was being immature about Angelus too.
Later that night, she came to the mansion. Afterward, she told me she had come to apologize for not listening to me. I was out having a spot of dusting fun when she arrived, and I don’t know how long she waited there. She still was in the main room when I came back. Crying. Not big sobs or weeping, no, nothing like that. Just silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched Angelus, who was watching her in return. He didn’t say a word to her while I was there, but that nasty grin on his face made it all too clear that he had been taunting her as he had been doing with me. I don’t know what he told her; she refused to tell me and I knew better than to ask him.
I could have understood if she had staked him, if she had been trading insults with him, or even physically lashed out at him. He certainly wasn’t fit enough then to escape a beating from her. But she didn’t do any such thing, just sat on the cold floor and cried. It made me even angrier with her. I grabbed her arm none too gently and pulled her to her feet and out of the mansion, Angelus’ laugh echoing after us. I wanted to yell at her and tell her exactly what I thought of her behavior, tell her that a Slayer couldn’t be weak like that or she’d be dead, tell her she couldn’t ignore help that was offered to her and then deliberately put herself in a situation where she was getting hurt, mentally or physically. I didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.
As soon as I banged the door close behind us, her teary eyes turned to me, pleading. That completely threw me out. She asked me to kill him. Asked me to do it for her before it destroyed her. Said she had tried to do it herself but couldn’t, that she still saw Angel when she saw him, and that Angelus played on that. I refused to stake him; instead tried to cheer her up by saying, I had asked Willow to work on a loophole-free curse so she might have her Angel back soon. If anything, she cried harder, and I felt even more lost. I understood why she wanted him gone for good, but not why the idea of getting her love back was so painful. She has never been able to explain that to me, and it’s not something she’s particularly fond of talking about anyway.
That bloody soul of mine of course was all too glad to take the blame for her tears. I was the one who hadn’t staked Angelus, so it was my fault if the Slayer was crying. My fault if she was emotionally weakened, and therefore potentially vulnerable. More guilt to add to the count, and the promise of even more if she got herself killed because of all that. So, I tried to comfort her, awkwardly patting her back, until she gave me a half incredulous, half questioning glance through her tears. She didn’t protest when I said I would walk her home.
I can’t say she was exactly pleased when I found her the next night and patrolled with her, but I can be stubborn when I want. In the end, she gave up. It helped I suppose that Faith was there and sided with me, saying that more help was always good. It wasn’t help with slaying that Faith wanted, but rather help with more. personal matters. I was aware of it, but I could have cared less. The girl could take care of herself, while Buffy on the other hand was on the edge of collapsing, and no one but me was seeing it. No one but me knew how much of a reason she had.
For a few nights, I made sure she was safe, like I had made sure her mates were safe during the summer. Then she met William, and that changed the cards drastically.