47. A Fragile Hope
A/N: Thanks to
my wonderful beta, eowyn315!!!!!
Over the
past two centuries, Spike had made a name for himself, leaving
a wake of mayhem and bloodshed in his path. He had gained a reputation
for being one of the most powerful and dangerous vampires in recorded
history, and nearly everyone in the demon community had at least heard
of him, and knew better than to cross him in any way. He was known as
one of the most notorious monsters that had ever existed for his
history of violence, and for his sheer nerve.
For all that, he had never been any good at lying.
And he had to admit that his power paled in comparison to that of the
witch before him, now smiling up at him through eyes which had become
cold, calculating pools of black.
“Spike?” Her dangerously soft voice drew his attention back to her
words, as her hand gently turned his face toward hers, locking onto his
gaze with her own. “I asked you a question. Where have you been?”
Spike knew the raven-haired vampiress well enough to know that her
gentle manner was deceptive, masking a deadly rage that was ready to
spring up at a moment’s notice, should he give her the wrong answer.
The question of the moment was…what was the *right* answer?
The truth was out of the question. The spell Jenny had performed to
protect any thoughts or knowledge of her and her operation would keep
Willow from reading the truth in his mind. Still, he had to come up
with a convincing story, and deliver it in a convincing manner as well.
The vampire-witch queen of Sunnydale was not one to be easily fooled.
Spike shrugged casually, not quite meeting her eyes. “Just about, love.
Checking up on things around town. Stopped a coupla overzealous fledges
from offing the Slayer a bit ago.”
Willow’s eyes narrowed in anger, and Spike tensed, uncertain as to
whether or not that anger was directed toward him. Her hand fell from
his cheek, and she turned away, her arms crossed over her chest as she
swore under her breath.
“Stupid,” she muttered. “Stupid fledges.” She turned back to face him,
a tight, malicious smile on her face. “I hope you left them alive to be
punished?”
Spike gave her an apologetic grimace and shook his head. “Sorry, love.
Had to take ’em out. They were about a second from killing her when I
found ’em.”
Willow’s lips turned downward into a pout of annoyance. “Oh, well. I
guess it couldn’t be helped. Still, it’s infuriating. Every vampire in
this town knows – hands off the Slayer. Nobody’s supposed to lay a hand
on her but *me*! It would have been so much better if I could have made
an example of them…”
“Sorry,” Spike repeated in what he hoped was a suitably subdued tone of
voice. “Just…didn’t wanna let ’em hurt her. You know, you said you
didn’t want…I mean…you said you wanted to keep her safe until…well,
whatever it is you want with her…”
His voice trailed off when Willow spun around to face him again,
gliding slowly forward into his space. Her head tilted slightly as she
studied his expression, a cold smile of amusement crossing her face.
Though her smile never faltered, a quick jerk of her wrist released a
violent jolt of magical power that slammed Spike backward against the
wall with enough force to drive the unnecessary breath from his lungs.
Before he could recover from the blow, without moving, Willow was
directly in front of him again. She held her hand out in front of her,
palm upward, and tilted it up slightly in the air. It was nowhere near
touching him, but with the motion, Spike found his head tilted
forcefully backward, exposing his throat and making him feel incredibly
vulnerable, as the younger vampire edged in nearer to him in a
graceful, almost serpentine motion, until there was only a fraction of
an inch between their bodies.
“Which is?” Willow prompted softly, drawing in a subtle breath of air
near his throat, closing her eyes as her smile widened with pleasure at
the scent of him, and Spike knew that she was considering extending
this frightening encounter into something more, something different
altogether.
Spike knew the answer that was required of him, and swallowed hard
against the magical restriction against his throat, before answering in
a low voice, “None of my business.”
“That’s right,” Willow agreed with a nod and a pleased smile. “None of
your business what I want with her. As I’ve told you many times before,
Spike.”
“I know,” he assured her, his voice hoarse as he gasped for breath. “I
wasn’t…I just want to be able to do my best to…to protect her…to
protect your plan…”
“No,” Willow contradicted him with a knowing shake of her head. “No,
you were telling the truth the first time. It’s not my plan you’re
interested in protecting…is it, Spike?”
Spike knew better than to deny what Willow already knew to be a fact –
his love for the blonde Slayer. He was enough under her control that
Willow rarely worried about his feelings for Buffy, saw them as little
more than a source for mockery of him. However, at the moment, she
seemed particularly agitated by his divided loyalties, as if she was
more concerned than usual that he might try to work against her in the
Slayer’s favor…which made perfect sense, if what Buffy had told him
about the spell was true.
And by this point, Spike was almost certain that it was.
****************************************
“So…is all this doing any good?”
Distracted, Jenny looked up at Buffy from her computer screen, blinking
before processing the question and looking away with a weary sigh. “Not
yet. Seems like I’m always just a step or two behind her.”
Buffy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she just keeps getting more powerful all the time. And it seems
like the more powerful she gets, the more spells she’s capable of
performing. More difficult, dangerous magic, you know?” Jenny was quiet
for a moment, returning her attention to the computer screen with a
worried frown as she added almost under her breath, “Usually to
increase her power.”
“So…she keeps gaining more power, and you…?”
“Keep figuring out the spell to bind her powers, just *after* she
increases her power enough that the spell won’t work on her anymore.”
“I don’t understand.” Buffy frowned, confused. “I mean…I was told that
Willow was pretty much unstoppable back in my time, you know? Like,
right after she got vamped and accessed her natural magic center or
whatever. So…what good does all this do if we can’t stop her?”
“That’s not true. We *can* stop her. It’s just a matter of finding the
right magic to bind hers,” Jenny explained.
“But I thought her magic was too strong…that there wasn’t a spell
stronger than her natural magical abilities.”
Jenny looked up at her, her jaw set in a determined line. “There’s
*always* a stronger spell, Buffy. We’ve just got to find it.”
“And…you *do* find it,” Buffy concluded, speaking slowly as she tried
to make sure she understood what the former teacher was saying. “It’s
just…too late, by the time you do, because she keeps increasing her
power…right?”
Jenny nodded. “That’s about the size of it.”
Buffy’s eyes went wide, lighting up with excitement as an idea occurred
to her. “So…the magic you have now would be more than enough to beat
her…back when she first started, right? To bind her powers and keep her
from using any magic…getting any stronger?”
Jenny gave her a speculative look, her eyes narrowing pensively.
“Definitely,” she affirmed with a slow nod. “I mean, it’s some pretty
intense stuff, but I’ve found some powerful spells that could
definitely have bound her back in the day, back when she was first
turned. It’s just that they do us no good now, now that she’s so much
more powerful.”
She was quiet for a moment, watching the Slayer as she began to pace
slowly, clearly deep in thought.
“What is it, Buffy?” she asked a bit impatiently. “What are you
thinking?”
“Just that…maybe we need to change our focus for a while,” the Slayer
replied as a slow smile spread across her face. “Stop trying to find
ways to bind her, when we already have those.”
“But we can’t use them,” Jenny reminded her.
“Yes, we can.” Buffy gave her a sly grin. “All we have to do first…is
find a way to turn back time.”
************************************
As the magical restraints that held him faded away, Spike drew in a
deep, shaky breath, letting it out in a sigh of relief to find himself
alone once more. For a few moments there, he had been certain that
Willow was onto his act, and would surely punish him and then take off
after Buffy.
But apparently he had managed to convince her of his ignorance of the
spell she had cast, because after a few moments toying with him, Willow
had become bored and released him, telling him that she had more
important business to deal with, and vanishing into thin air.
Spike waited a few minutes, regaining his composure and glancing around
the room as he wondered whether or not she had really left. Of course
it was possible that it was nothing more than a trap to somehow catch
him in his lies. But then, Willow was not much of a liar either,
really, and he was fairly certain that she had believed him.
If she hadn’t, he likely would not still be undead at that moment. If
she really thought he was lying, she could have incinerated him with a
thought. Willow’s power was great enough by this point that she really
had no need for traps and mind games.
She just liked them.
Feeling gradually more confident that he was alone in the foyer, Spike
began to think again about the strange things the Slayer had told him.
The duplicate duster she had shown him in the Watcher’s old home was
quite powerful evidence; had it been a copy, Spike was certain that he
would have recognized some difference between the two, but the coat she
had given him was exactly the same, down to every last battle scar.
Still, he thought, if Willow really had done such a tremendous spell,
altering their entire existence…there had to be some sort of evidence
somewhere, hadn’t there?
Glancing around one last time to be sure that there was no sign of the
witch, Spike headed slowly, cautiously, up the stairs that led to her
bedroom. He tried the door carefully, finding it unlocked, and pushed
it slowly open. He had a momentary fear that Willow had done nothing
but teleport herself into her own room, and he was about to be
caught…but her room was empty.
Spike closed the door silently behind him and stepped further into the
dim room, lit only by the glow of several candles. Various magical
implements covered the walls, the desk, every available surface, and
Spike found that the evil power that filled this room made his skin
crawl and his blood chill in his veins. He felt the impulse to flee
before he could be caught here, before some remnant of Willow’s power
and rage could punish him for his intrusion.
But then, something caught his eye.
Near the far side of the room, on a round table made of dark wood, was
what appeared to be a snow globe on a base made of gold…but this was no
ordinary snow globe. It shimmered with an otherworldly light in the
flickering flames of the candles, and Spike found himself strangely
drawn to it.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of it, close enough to
touch. On closer inspection, he could see that it was not a snow globe
at all; first of all, there was no snow. Inside the shimmering globe
was a tiny replica of a town, and Spike’s eyes widened with amazement
when he recognized the layout of the town, and realized the truth.
It was a flawless replica of Sunnydale itself.
He drew nearer, lowering his head to get a closer look at the scene,
and frowned when he saw a place near the center of the town where there
was a dark, empty space. It appeared that something should have been
there, but had been burned out somehow. Spike drew in a sharp, startled
breath when he realized that it was the place where the Watcher’s
apartment should have been – the only place that had not been affected
by Willow’s spell.
His mind raced with the implications, as he realized that the strange
globe could be vital in figuring out how to undo whatever spell Willow
had used to change their world.
It could *be* the spell she had used.
He considered for a moment, telling himself that this was an important
decision, and he needed to carefully weigh the risks and potential
benefits before acting – but after a few moments, he lost patience with
that idea.
He had never been one to over-think a situation.
Making up his mind in an instant, Spike pocketed the globe and hurried
out of the room and down the stairs. The mansion was still empty, so he
decided to make the most of his mistress’ absence; after all, he had no
idea how long it might last.
Spike headed outside into the grim, overcast day. He had to find Buffy,
while there was still time.