34. Consequences
Spike watched with an uneasy feeling of
apprehension as Buffy rose to follow her Watcher out the front door
onto the porch, leaving him there with a room full of people he had
once known well, but who were now little more than strangers – not to
mention the *actual* strangers. He was unsure of what he should do;
slavery had made the idea of simply sitting and doing nothing a foreign
one to him. A slave was always supposed to be alert and attentive,
watching for the needs of his master or mistress.
That was kind of difficult when said mistress got up and left him, he
thought, a bit petulantly.
Buffy had not spared him so much as a glance before leaving with Giles,
so he thought that she probably did not want or need him along at the
moment. She and Giles probably needed to have a private conversation,
Slayer to Watcher, without everyone else there to overhear every word.
Giles had made a point of saying that he wanted to talk to Buffy
*alone*, and she had not objected in the least.
She had, however, seemed nervous and reluctant to go. Come to think of
it, though his attention had been mostly focused on Buffy during the
little exchange, he had noticed that Giles had not seemed terribly
pleased with her at the time. A worried frown creased Spike's brow at
that thought.
He knew that, even if he could, Giles would never physically harm
Buffy; but he also knew that at this moment, Buffy was terribly
vulnerable emotionally, and he could easily hurt her with his words,
even without meaning to. She was nervous and insecure about rebuilding
her relationships with the friends she had rejected, but now needed so
desperately.
And if she had been *nervous* about the reactions of Willow and Xander
and the others – the thought of *Giles'* reaction had terrified her.
Spike did not know why Giles was upset with her, since he seemed to
have forgiven her for casting him off in the first place; but he knew
that whatever the Watcher chose to say to her right now, Buffy would
definitely take it to heart. If he was too harsh, it could be
devastating to her.
He suddenly decided to get up and follow her, regardless of the
Watcher's wishes, and stood up quickly from his chair.
Just then, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see
Willow standing beside him with an encouraging smile. Just the look
alone made him feel a little better. Over the course of the last couple
of days, he had begun to feel more comfortable around Willow and Tara,
who had treated him with nothing but kindness since he had come here.
"She'll be all right," the red-headed witch assured him. "They just
need a little time to talk, just the two of them." She paused, that
self-conscious apologetic smile that was so Willow coming over her face
as she added with a little shrug, "Besides...it's daylight."
He nodded reluctantly, knowing that she was right, but still a little
apprehensive.
"Have you met our guests?" Willow asked him, her voice and eyes hopeful
as she tried to distract him from his worries.
He shook his head, looking nervously toward the vampires in question.
He felt a little odd about meeting them, for some reason. They seemed
so at ease and comfortable with the humans that surrounded them – so
different from the way he had become.
He watched with an almost fascination as one of the two males got into
a spirited discussion with Xander, arguing over some sports team, and
the little female across the room accepted a steaming cup from Tara,
who was smiling down at her where she sat comfortably on the couch,
completely relaxed.
They were truly being treated as guests; he could scarcely comprehend
it.
Such courtesy and hospitality from a human was something Spike had
never experienced for himself – not from any human who actually knew
what he was. Until Buffy, every master he had ever had had treated him
like nothing more than an animal, deserving of no consideration, no
privileges or rights of any kind.
He was not blind, and he knew that Buffy's friends disapproved of her
owning him. They seemed to be of the opinion that her simple possession
of him alone, regardless of how she treated him, was a crime in and of
itself, whether or not she actually hurt him. But somehow, despite the
fact that she had, he still felt safer with her than he had in years,
with anyone.
She had a volatile temper, and the natural tendency of a Slayer to take
out her frustrations on any undead creature or demon that got in her
way. That alone should have made him terrified to think that his life
was hers to do with as she pleased. And it was true, there had been and
still were times when he was afraid of her, even now, in spite of her
promise not to hurt him again.
Still – he felt safe with her in a way that her friends could not come
close to comprehending.
"Hey."
A quiet, unfamiliar voice behind him made him jump, and he cursed
himself for showing such weakness when he realized that it was only one
of the other vampires standing there.
The slightly built, dark-haired vampire behind him, clearly little more
than a fledgling, had a tentative smile on his face as he waited for
Spike to respond. "I'm Julian," he finally offered, when Spike just
looked at him coolly, not really interested in having a conversation
with the stranger when he had so much on his mind at the moment.
"Spike." The simple one-word response did not leave Julian much to work
with, and should have been a hint to the younger vamp.
"So...you belong to the Slayer," Julian commented, his brows raised
slightly in interest, but mostly just searching for a way to pull Spike
into the conversation.
Spike did not want to be pulled.
His eyes narrowed on the expectant face of the boy, who couldn't have
been more than twenty when he was turned. This was just another slave,
and a fledgling at that; there was no reason for Spike to feel
intimidated in the least around him. He called on the remnants of a
persona that he had abandoned long ago in the name of survival, pulling
himself up into an intimidating stance, gratified when the younger vamp
unconsciously shifted backward a little.
To take such a stance with a human would have gotten him immediately
struck down, and hard. It had taken months of brutality and
degradation, but his first master had eventually succeeded in breaking
him of his pride and bravado, and he had given up the "Big Bad"
façade
that in this world, only served to cause him suffering.
But a little fledgling like this, chipped like him and lacking his
skills and experience, was no threat whatsoever, and found the classic
Spike pose, the cold smirk on his face, very intimidating. Spike felt a
rush of nearly forgotten power and pride at Julian's reaction. It was
not fear exactly – after all, no one in this house would let Spike
actually hurt the other vampire, if he had a mind to – but rather a
wary acknowledgement in his eyes.
Spike might be a slave, but as a vampire, he was a master – and not one
to be taken lightly.
"Yeah," he responded to the boy's question, a challenge in his soft
tone. "What of it?" As he spoke he took a step nearer to Julian.
"Nothing." Julian shook his head, glancing away uncomfortably. "I was
just – I mean..." he stammered, losing his words under the powerful glare
of the older vampire.
"Oh, good. You two have met."
Tara's voice was soft, pleasant, but her smile was knowing as she
suddenly stepped between the two, her usually soft grey eyes piercing
as they fell on Spike, and he instinctively shifted back to his usual
demeanor, the attitude falling away in an instant. He knew by now that
Tara would not hurt him, but it was automatic by now, the humble
posture, the dropped gaze, when faced with any human, studying him so
intently as she was doing a that moment.
"Come on. I'll introduce you to the others." Tara's voice was kind, but
he did not miss the subtle reprimand in her tone as she put her arm
around his shoulders and led him firmly away from Julian. He tensed
under her touch, aware that he had crossed a line, but found himself
relaxing slightly when she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
The unspoken message was clear – he was safe, there was no way that she
was going to hurt him – but she wasn't going to let him bully Julian,
either.
In a strange way, it was comforting, giving him a sense of security,
because he somehow knew that if the situation had been reversed, Julian
would have been gently distracted just as he had just been. It was
clear that in this house, things were done a certain way – with
tolerance, and grace, and a sense of fairness. Everyone was treated the
same, and no one was permitted to use violence or mistreat those around
them.
It was reassuring, and steadying, and made him feel – safe.
Spike felt his worries begin to ease as Tara led him across the room to
meet Aaron and Mara.
Buffy's heart was pounding as she followed her Watcher around the house
to the pretty little garden in the back. She stopped for a moment,
surprised by the unexpected beautiful scene she had stepped into – no
doubt the work of Tara's hands.
Buffy suppressed a sense of resentful irritation. *Yeah. Perfect,
saintly Tara...everything she touches turns to shiny, pretty goodness.
Whereas everything *I* touch, on the other hand, turns to...*
"Would you care to tell me what's been going on between you and Spike?"
Giles asked her directly, his ice blue eyes piercing, unrelenting, and
focused on hers as he took a seat on a white painted bench facing her,
regarding her coolly, with barely bridled anger.
*Shit.* She finished the thought, which was now doubly appropriate.
"What do you mean?" she asked, aware of the stupidity of the question,
and the fact that she must look as trapped as she felt, but just
stalling for time. " 'Going on' could mean so many things..."
"Buffy." Giles spoke with forced patience, and Buffy heard a dangerous
note in his voice that she had never heard from him before. "This is
not a joke. This is serious. The last time I saw Spike he was as brash,
arrogant and all around infuriating as ever. Now I come here to find
him in *your* possession – and rather than the total resistance and
anger I would expect from him at being under your command – he rather
seems to seek desperately to please you – to meet your every need."
He paused, and the righteous anger in his eyes made her drop her own
gaze, knowing where he was going, and that he was partially right in
going there.
"Now what I'm wondering, Buffy," Giles went on softly, holding her gaze
firmly. "...is what could possibly have brought him to such a strong –
conviction – that it is in his best interests to please you above all
else. What could be the motivating factor that might convince such a
proud, bold creature to submit so fully to his mortal enemy?" The
unspoken accusation in his eyes was clear; he had concluded that to be
so submissive to the Slayer, Spike must have been "convinced" to do so
by force.
"Giles, I didn't do that to him!" she declared emphatically, her voice
trembling slightly with the guilt of what she *had* done to Spike.
"He's been like that since I bought him!"
It was *almost* the truth, though she knew that her own behavior had
served to break the tentative confidence he had been developing.
Although some of the fault was hers, she knew that Spike had not been
the same person they had all known since long before *she* had bought
him.
"And why was that, exactly, Buffy?" Giles asked her bluntly, shifting
the focus of the conversation suddenly. "Why *did* you purchase Spike
as your slave?"
She was caught off guard by the question, felt her defenses springing
up. "I don't know," she shrugged nervously, looking away from his eyes.
"I just – I saw him there – at the auction – and I – I just couldn't..."
She paused, looking up at him with a plea for understanding in her eyes.
He wanted to hear what she had to say before he offered or withheld
understanding. He just sat there, looking at her calmly, expectantly,
waiting for her to find her thoughts and go on.
Buffy thought back on the events of that day – her pain at Riley's
careless, dismissive treatment of her...seeing Spike, and all the
memories it had brought back, of better times and less confusing
relationships...how could she explain to Giles what had possessed her to
raise her bidding card that afternoon? She could barely understand it
herself, even now.
She remembered the way Spike's master had been mistreating him, had
threatened to hurt him if he was not sold that day – the deep sadness
she had felt when he was standing on the auction block, unwanted – her
desire in that moment to claim him as her own.
And then, the way she had felt when the other woman had bid on him –
the fierce possessive determination that had filled her, that no one
else would have Spike but her – how desperate she had suddenly been not
to lose this person from her past that had suddenly reappeared,
dragging her just a little nearer to the memory of who she had once
been.
"I needed him," she finally confessed softly, her voice thick with
emotion. "I bid on him because – because I didn't have anyone. And – I
wanted someone – to be mine." The words came out in a hushed whisper,
her tear-filled eyes focused on her Watcher's spotless loafers, the
truth coming together for her as she spoke it.
"You *had* someone who was yours," Giles reminded her, and the bite
that he could not keep out of his words made her flinch a little. His
voice softened slightly with immediate remorse that his pain made him
reluctant to show as he added, "...if you'd have had him."
Her stricken eyes shot up to his at the stark pain in his voice, as she
was reminded again of how her foolish actions had hurt those who cared
the most about her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Giles, I don't know what else to say. I'm
*sorry*." There was a desperation verging on despair in her voice, as
she stepped closer to him, searching his eyes pleadingly.
"I know you are, Buffy," he replied quietly. "And I've forgiven you."
He paused. "That doesn't mean by any means that it no longer hurts. And
that doesn't mean there are not consequences for your actions." His
tone shifted to direct the conversation back to what he had brought her
out here to discuss in the first place. "You say you bought Spike at
the slave auction – because you wanted someone to be yours." He was
silent for a moment, his intent gaze boring into hers and refusing to
let her look away.
"Well, he *is*, Buffy. He's yours," Giles stated matter-of-factly,
leaving no room for her to deny the truth of the matter. "The question
now is – what are you going to do with him?"