Chapter 25: Confrontations
Despite his warning about the young Slayer’s life, no one followed Spike into the training room. Did they think he was making idle threats? Did they all believe him tamed? More than likely, they did. He hadn’t been much of a mortal threat to any human in a long time. But no human had played with his Slayer like this since before he had the chip removed. He had been ready to kill the annoying nerd for taking a – painful but not life threatening – shot at Buffy. He was more than ready to teach a little lesson to the impudent girl who had played with her soul.
Slipping easily into a predator’s stride, he advanced toward where she was sitting on the matted floor, doing stretching exercises. As he stopped in front of her, keeping his face carefully void of emotions, her own face tilted up and she gave him a hesitant smile.
“Hey, Spike. Back from LA already?”
As she seemed ready to stand, he offered his hand to her. She accepted it, the faintest blush rising in her cheeks. He pulled her up, and immediately twisted her arm behind her back and up, hard, ignoring her little yelp of surprise and pain.
“Did you have fun while we were gone, girl?” he growled into her ear from behind her.
He pushed her away, and she caught herself before she stumbled. As she turned around to face him, there was no mistaking the surprise in her eyes, as well as her fear.
“Sp… Spike? Are you OK?”
“Me?” he asked with mock surprise as he started circling her. “Me, I’m just fine. It’s Buffy, you see. She’s not really been herself since this morning. But you know that, don’t you?”
She moved at the same time as he did, keeping him in front of her while trying to put more distance between them. He could see she was shaking lightly, and couldn’t help thinking that it was too easy.
“How would I know?” she asked, her voice wavering a little. “I haven’t seen her since you two left.”
“You haven’t seen her, but you thought of her, didn’t you? Last night? When you did that little spell of yours?”
If Spike had needed confirmation, he now had it. Her cheeks were suddenly a deep bright red, her eyebrows were up to the ceiling, and she stuttered a little as she said:
“How… how do you know…I thought… thought you’d be glad. That it would all be better ag…”
His anger heightened by her admission, he stopped his circling and went straight to her, a small part of him urging himself not to kill her until he knew exactly what she had done and how to reverse it. She backed up as he approached, until her back was to the wall, her palms flat against it, as if she was trying to disappear into the bricks. His right hand shot up and caught her throat, hard enough to be painful, not tight enough, at least not yet, to be lethal.
“You thought I’d be glad?” he repeated incredulously.
“Why does it matter?” she croaked, both her hands now gripping his as she tried to free herself from him. “It didn’t work anyway.”
“Didn’t work?” Spike roared. “Buffy lost her soul and you dare say your bloody spell didn’t work? And you thought I’d be happy about it?”
She suddenly went limp, and if not for the sudden surprise in her eyes he might have believed he had choked her already.
“Buffy… lost her soul?” she questioned, her shock making her voice no more than a whisper.
She shook her head, or rather tried to, and added, just as low, almost timidly: “What does that have to do with me?”
“You tell me. What spell did you do? Did you think I’d fall into your waiting arms because my Mate wasn’t herself anymore? Was that what you wanted, girl?”
“No,” she said quietly, almost calmly despite her lingering fear. “I wanted to stop loving you. That was my spell. Just to stop being in love with you. It had nothing to do with Buffy or souls. Nothing at all. I swear it. You have to believe me.”
Seconds stretched in the silence that followed, and still Spike’s hand was holding the kid’s so fragile neck, bruising it, undoubtedly. If he was immobile, his mind wasn’t, and was rushing from one thought to the next with vertiginous speed. She said it wasn’t her. Why should he believe her? It wasn’t like she was going to admit anything. And who else could it be? Why else could this have happened? All day, he had tried to find an answer to that question, unsuccessfully. When he had heard Willow, he had hoped, with all his unbeating heart, all his not-so-long gone soul, that it was it, that they had the culprit, and that soon everything would be back to normal. If he admitted that it wasn’t Manon, if he dared believed her, then their only lead so far disappeared, and the risk of not getting his Buffy back, the very thing he had tried not to think about all day long, suddenly became oppressing. And yet, could he not believe her? He had seen and heard her surprise. He did not believe she was that good an actress, however much easier it would have been to think so. He took a good look into her eyes, and found only two things there, naked love and honesty. No dissimulation, no hint that she was lying.
Mentally exhausted, he progressively loosened his hold on her, until his arm fell, limp, at his side.
*****
“You believe me?” Manon asked, not moving one inch from where she stood against the wall, not even to rub her painful throat.
He had to believe her. It was hard enough that he had no feelings for her, she just couldn’t bear it if he didn’t even trust her. Still, he kept silent, his eyes, unfocused, now directed at the floor, seemingly drained of all energy or anger.
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” she insisted. “And it’s pretty clear that hurting Buffy is the same as hurting you. You have to believe me.”
She was beginning to fear he had gone catatonic or something when finally he reacted. He nodded, very slowly.
“Hurt me, yes,” he mumbled. “It’s not just her soul that’s gone. It’s mine, too. All day I’ve had to keep her from killing anyone. And now I was ready to do just that. Without even being sure. The wanker cried so much for the four of them, and I was ready to add a fifth to the list.”
Manon wasn’t too sure what he was talking about, all she was certain of was the part about him ready to kill her. She had understood that very clearly when his hand was tightening around her throat.
“Spike, you believe me, right?”
There was a beginning of tears in her voice. He had to, he just had to believe her, or else he might as well finish her. Why couldn’t her spell have worked? It wouldn’t have mattered, then, whether he trusted her or not. Freed of her love for him, she would have worried for Buffy, certainly, but not so much for him.
“Yes.”
A sigh escaped her lips. Tentatively, she reached out to pat his shoulder, giving up when he jerked away.
“We’ll find who hurt her,” she tried to say as convincingly as she could. “And Buffy will be just fine. You’ll see.”
For the first time since he had released her, he raised his eyes to hers, and Manon shivered at the ice and death she saw there.
*****
Buffy wanted to follow Spike into the training room and watch him, maybe help him kill the Slayer, but Willow stopped her, as she asked her cautiously if she would sit down so that Tara could check her aura or something to the effect. Nibbling her bottom lip, Buffy thought for a second. Spike had banged the door shut behind him. That meant two things. One, he wanted to be alone with the kid. Two, he had left her alone with the humans. The orders he had given her still bound her, but in a few minutes she would be free to do as she pleased, if Spike wasn’t back yet. It was worth trying her luck.
Just because she had to sit down and keep still for whatever the Witch was doing didn’t mean however that she couldn’t plan. One by one, she considered the four humans sitting at the research table. They seemed to realize they were being gauged and measured, because all of them, as her eyes detailed them, suddenly started fidgeting and throwing nervous glances at her. As if they could feel that she was imagining how she would kill them. It would have been better with Spike at her side, really. If she had to take care of all of them, she would have to make choices about whose death she absolutely wanted to feel as she drained them, and who she could be satisfied to kill with a simple broken neck. Willow, definitely, had to die first. Too dangerous to give her a chance to do her mojo to protect the others. Same thing for Tara, she might be shy but she wouldn’t hesitate to cast a spell if she believed Willow was in danger or hurt. Xander, now… He had had a thing for her for a long time, it might be interesting to see if he would enjoy her fangs in his flesh, more intimacy than they have ever shared. As for Anya…
“I wonder if pregnant women taste different.”
Her quiet, almost idle comment had the desired effect, and Buffy grinned, satisfied with herself, when the four friends all jumped in identical shock. Anya’s look, especially, was priceless, her eyes widening impossibly as she huddled against her husband. Xander didn’t seem to like the comment, not one little bit.
“The looks were bad enough,” he said, his voice shaking a little, though she couldn’t have said if it was from anger or fear. “But if she says things like this maybe we should gag her.”
“And then what?” Spike’s voice asked suddenly as he strode toward the table. “Then you’ll chain her? Throw her in a bathtub, maybe? Feed her through a straw?”
Buffy smiled at him, glad he was taking her defense, then frowned briefly as she saw the Slayer behind him. Manon didn’t look hurt. What had happened in there then? Suspiciously, she sniffed the hair, trying to get a sense of his scent, and Manon’s. All she could identify was the girl’s fear.
Uncaring whether Tara was done or not, she rose and went to her Sire. As she rubbed against him in front of all of them, she made sure to make eye contact with Manon, sending her a cold smile, so that there was no doubt left for her whom he belonged to.
“All I’m saying,” Xander replied to Spike, “is that we could do without hearing Buffy think out loud about pregnant women’s blood. We’re all upset enough by what’s happening, we really don’t need to be wondering if she wants to eat us.”
Turning in Spike’s arms so that she now faced the table again, Buffy smiled candidly.
“Oh, you don’t have to wonder”, she said brightly. “I…”
Her Sire’s hand covered her mouth and prevented her finishing, but by the silence that fell on the room they had all understood.
“Glinda? Did you find out anything?”
Spike’s quiet question seemed to awaken Tara, as she stopped staring fixedly at Buffy.
“Just confirmed what… what we thought,” the Witch said hesitantly. “Her soul is gone, and magic was involved, but I can’t tell anything more than that.”
The arm that was wrapped around Buffy’s waist tightened its hold just a little, and the hand at her mouth fell down.
“Manon did a spell,” Spike said tiredly, “but it had nothing to do with souls or Buffy”.
“What kind of spell?” Buffy asked, curious, turning just a trifle to look at the young Slayer who was blushing a little as she stared at the floor in front of her.
“Nothing of interest, luv.”
“Hmm, well, maybe we should look into that”, Willow said carefully. “Even with the best intent in the world, a spell can turn very bad… as I am sure you all remember.”
The Witch blushed a little, and Buffy chuckled.
“It was just… an anti-love spell,” Manon murmured, her eyes still glued to the floor.
“Ooooh,” Buffy cooed, “isn’t that sweet, the little…”
Again, a hand pressed to her mouth stifled her words. This time she bit the offending palm, hard, but Spike didn’t even seem to notice.
“Anti-love spell?” Anya commented, regaining her voice since Buffy had scared her. “Apart from being the most stupid kind of spell I ever heard of, I mean, who is desperate enough for that, what does it have to do with Buffy’s soul?”
This time, there were three blushing people, the kid, Willow and Xander, and Buffy snickered. It was just getting funnier by the minute. Almost funny enough that she could forget her thirst. Almost, but not quite. She tried to let them know, but her voice was mostly muffled by Spike’s hand.
“OK. I don’t think Buffy’s presence here is helping, is it?”
Nothing but blank stares answered Spike’s question.
“Fine. We’ll go patrol then. So she won’t be upsetting you, and you can find a way to help her. Willow? Is that OK?”
The redhead nodded. “I’ll call you later,” she promised, “or leave a message if we find anything. Just make sure she’s alright until we find something.”
Without another word, Spike pulled Buffy toward the door, freeing her mouth again. Before they were out, she felt compelled to ask, loud enough for the Scoobies to hear:
“What happens when a pregnant woman is turned, lover?”