Avocation

Author: enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play. Really.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask.

Summary: The gypsies curse the wrong vampire, and by the time they rectify their mistake, Spike has been fundamentally altered. Nearly a century later, the Slayer needs help, and there's only one person qualified for the job. Of course, he's not real interested in taking it.

A/N: I have a secret (or not-so-secret) weakness for early canon Spuffy fics. The only problem is that Spike is evil. No, really, he is. Which means that actually writing Spuffy pre-chip requires more suspension of disbelief than I can manage. Reading it is a different matter altogether. So, this is how I write early canon Spuffy. By altering events entirely. By the way, the title comes from a Robert Frost poem, "Two Tramps in Mud Time." Pay special attention to the last stanza.

Chapter 19

"into the strenuous briefness/Life:/handorgans and April/darkness,friends/i charge laughing./Into the hair-thin tints/of yellow dawn,/into the women-coloured twilight/i smilingly/glide. I/into the big vermilion departure/swim,sayingly;/(Do you think?)the/i do,world/is probably made/of roses & hello:/(of solongs and,ashes)" ~e.e. cummings, "into the strenuous briefness"

Spike had never lived with anyone before, so he wasn't sure how things were going to work with Faith. There was a part of him that fully expected to deeply regret making the offer after she'd moved her things in.

It turned out that you could live with a person and never see them, however. Even though they kept basically the same hours, Faith would often be gone before the sun went down, and then wouldn't return until after it had risen. When Spike extended Buffy's offer to spend Christmas Eve, she was evasive, telling him that she had a party to go to, but she'd think about it.

It was probably a good thing Spike hadn't expected much in the way of bonding.

He had his own problems, anyway. The nightmares were back full-force.

It wasn't a new phenomenon, of course. Spike had experienced them nearly every time he went to sleep for the first ten years or so after he'd gotten the soul. Once he'd managed to get away from Angelus and the others, the nightmares had been about being recaptured and tortured all over again.

Spike had a pretty good idea of why they were coming back now. Emotions he had long since buried and abandoned were beginning to well up again. With emotion came desire, and with desire—

Well, with desire often came love, and Spike had had his fill of that. His ability to love had died the day Drusilla had watched when he freed of himself, only to crow with delight when Angelus entered the room.

His memory of the next week was completely gone. Spike just knew that it had been bad, because he'd blanked out most of it.

It had been really bad.

The trouble was, it was all starting to come back in bits and pieces. So far he hadn't actually woken up screaming, which was a relief. Spike had no desire to have to explain things to Faith.

There was a part of him that wanted to pull back, even now. That wanted to back out of Christmas Eve, that wanted to go back to skulking in dark corners, keeping his relationships on a business-only level.

And Spike knew that it was too late for that. The Powers That Screwed With You had buggered him royally.

There was nothing for it but to make the best of things.

It just meant that he wouldn't be getting any sleep at all for a while.

~~~~~

"So you and Oz?" Buffy asked quietly.

Willow gave her friend a nervous smile. "We're getting together at my place to watch videos since my parents are going to be out of town."

"That's good!" Buffy was happy for her friend. Willow had been trying really hard to get back into Oz's good graces.

She nodded hesitantly. "In a really awkward way. I just want him to trust me again."

"Xander has a piece of you that Oz will never be able to touch," Buffy pointed out. "Now it's just a matter of showing him that he comes first."

"He really does," Willow said. "I still don't know what I was doing, you know? At least Spike forgave me." She blushed a bright red at the memory of what she'd done under the spell. It could have been much worse, however. She knew that much.

"Spike's that kind of guy." Buffy couldn't hold back her wistful smile.

Something in the Slayer's tone had Willow looking at her sharply. "You like him."

"What?"

"You like Spike."

Buffy shook her head. "No! I mean, okay, yeah, as a friend, but—"

"You like him, like him," Willow argued. "I can see it. You have the same look you did when—" She stopped there, but Buffy knew exactly what she was saying.

"Which is why I'm not going there," Buffy said. "Besides, Spike has made it very clear that he has no feelings for me. We're very much just friends."

"But—"

"Friends," Buffy repeated firmly. Her tone softened. "I really do like him, Wills. As a friend. It's easy to forget that he's a vampire."

Willow shook her head. "Buffy, Spike's soul is permanent. You know he wouldn't go evil on you. Besides, he's definitely different than Angel."

Buffy sighed. "I know he is. I'd rather leave things the way they are than ruin what we have, though." She laughed a little. "It's fine. He's coming for Christmas Eve, along with Faith and Giles. It should be quite a gathering."

"That's good, Buffy," Willow said. "I mean, it's good that you guys are friends."

"It is," Buffy agreed. "It's really good."

Willow grinned. "Good."

~~~~~ 

Christmas Eve was incredibly uncomfortable. Faith obviously felt as though she was out of place, even though she was trying to have a good time. Joyce and Giles had a thin undercurrent of tension running between them, although that was because they were both trying not to reveal how close they really were.

Spike was tired and unfocused from lack of sleep, although he was doing an admirable job of covering it up. And Buffy felt like she was caught in the middle of a maelstrom of emotions.

It got better after dinner. Faith made her excuses around nine, and Joyce and Giles took their drinks out to the living room, leaving Spike and Buffy alone in the kitchen.

"I need a fag," Spike muttered, patting his pockets.

Buffy hesitated. "You mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." She followed him onto the back porch, and Spike lit up a cigarette, taking an appreciative drag. "How are you, luv?"

Buffy glanced over at him in surprise at the warmth of his tone. It was almost—intimate. "What do you mean?"

"With Angelus being gone, I mean," he clarified. "This is the time of the year to miss the ones who aren't around."

Buffy blinked slowly, frowning. "I haven't even thought about Angel in a while now. I mean, I still think about him, but it's different now. It doesn't hurt as much." She wrapped her arms around her knees, looking off into the darkness. "We did have some good times, you know, but it was mostly all sneaking around and fighting evil. I don't know if that makes sense at all."

"Sure it does," Spike replied. "He wasn't a part of your daily life, so you can go about your day without too many reminders of him."

Buffy took a deep breath. "It was almost a year ago now that he lost his soul, you know." She glanced over at him. "Has anyone told you how it happened?"

Spike managed to hide a wince. While he'd laughed at the idea of Angel having his perfect moment by finding "some brainless chit to fall in love with him," he hadn't really thought about it from the girl's perspective.

Buffy was certainly not brainless.

"I gather Angel fell in love with you."

"It was on my birthday." Buffy's face reflected pain, but it was a pain gentled by time.

Spike's eyes widened as her meaning settled in. "Shit. I'm sorry, Buffy."

"Yeah. It sucked." She frowned, then snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye. "But I'm not really sorry it happened."

"Why's that?"

"Because you wouldn't have come to Sunnydale otherwise."

The silence lay between them, heavy with promise. "Buffy—"

She took the hoarse bewilderment in his voice for rejection. "It's okay. I mean, I know—"

Spike stopped her words with a gentle finger on her lips. "I'm glad I came too."

It was all either one of them were willing to say at the moment. Buffy wasn't quite ready to trust her heart to another man—let alone another vampire. Spike wasn't quite ready to believe he could love someone again.

They had both thought love was dead, but the first seeds were beginning to wake in their hearts.

~~~~~

Joyce felt horribly guilty. Of course, this wasn't the first time she'd been seeing someone without letting Buffy know about it, but it was different this time. This time, Buffy knew the man as well, if not better than, Joyce did.

She just didn't want to risk her relationship with Rupert, knowing that Buffy's disapproval was nearly certain. He was another adult who shared her interests and concerns. She hadn't had that in so long—not since the early years of her marriage to Hank.

Besides, the sex was great.

In less than a year, Buffy would be going to college, and that would be the time to tell her about the fact that her friendship with Giles was a little more than that. Her daughter wouldn't be able to do much from a distance.

Joyce knew from her experience with Ted that Buffy was a pro at sabotaging things—although, she couldn't regret it in Ted's case.

Still, there was no fear that Giles was an evil android, or that he and Buffy wouldn't get along. Really, the whole situation was perfect, save for the fact that Buffy didn't know, and when she did find out, would probably go a little nuts.

It was guilt, plus a lingering curiosity that brought Joyce out to visit Buffy while she patrolled. Hot chocolate and cookies seemed the perfect way to assuage her growing uneasiness. Unfortunately, Joyce got a chance to see Buffy's work up close and personal.

~~~~~

Spike hadn't seen anyone for a couple of days. Willow had notified him about Buffy's upcoming birthday, and he'd needed to retrieve her gift. Or commission it, rather. When he got back, the whole town was in an uproar over two dead children. There was a very nasty feeling to the whole affair that made Spike nervous.

He still wasn't expecting to get shot at when he went to the Summers' house to find Buffy, though. "Spike." Joyce was standing in the doorway, holding a crossbow.

"Joyce?" Spike asked, holding up his hands reflexively. "What's going on?"

She appeared extremely calm. "We're rooting out the bad elements in town. I'm sure you heard about what happened."

Spike backed up a step. "Yeah, but I've been out of town. You know I didn't have anything to do with it."

"That's not important," Joyce replied. "What's important is that it was the occult that killed these children, and you're a part of the occult. Spike, I'm sorry, but you're just not welcome here any longer."

It was a very good thing that Joyce didn't have any training, since her shot went slightly wide, hitting him in the right shoulder and missing his heart. Spike was too stunned to move right away, but when she started trying to load another bolt, he took off, clutching his wounded shoulder.

Spike kept going until he was certain that no one was going to be coming after him, finally stopping in a park, deserted at that late hour. With an angry hiss, he yanked the bolt out of his shoulder and stared at the bloody shaft in disbelief. He'd thought that Joyce liked him, had thought he could trust her. Now she was trying to kill him for no other reason than because he was a vampire.

"I should have bloody well known," he growled, tossing the bolt into the grass. "What the sodding hell was I thinking?"

"Spike?"

He rose, readying himself to fight if he needed to. Buffy was hurrying towards him. "What do you want?"

"Were you at our house?"

"Yeah, I—"

"Did Mom hurt you?" Buffy came over quickly, spotting the dark circle on his shirt. "Are you okay?"

Her concern relaxed him slightly. "I'll be fine. I've gotten shot more often in the last month than I have in the last ten years, though."

Buffy led him over to the swings, where she pushed him to sit. "Hold still and let me see."

"What's going on, Buffy?" Spike asked quietly. "I didn't—I don't understand why your mum was so upset with me."

The Slayer shook her head. "It's not you, I promise. There's something really strange going on."

"The kids that were killed?" he asked, keeping an eye on what she was doing. Buffy had pulled his shirt aside, stretching the neck to get a glimpse of the wound.

"Yeah. Mom came to see me while I was patrolling, and she found their bodies. It really shook her up, but the whole town seems to have gone crazy. They searched all the lockers today for 'occult materials,' and Willow's been grounded completely. It's bad."

Spike snorted. "And your mum tried to kill me. I guess that makes sense."

"Where have you been, anyway? I haven't seen you for the last couple of days."

"Had to run an errand," Spike replied. "Just got back tonight. How are you doing?"

"Fine," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem fine."

"Well, on top of the fact that my mom tried to kill one of my friends, she also said that me being the Slayer was fruitless. No fruit for Buffy." She sighed. "I actually thought that she was beginning to understand what me being the Slayer meant."

Spike touched her hand with his good arm. "Buffy, you do good. You do as much as any of us can do. There's a lot of evil in this world, and there isn't much we can do about it. But we can fight it."

"Like you do?" she asked rhetorically. "Do you ever get tired, Spike?"

"All the bloody time, luv," he said. "Look, you tell me where you want me, and we'll see about figuring out what killed those kids. How old were they again?"

Buffy opened her mouth to reply and then snapped it shut again. "I don't know. They looked about seven or eight, but—" She stared at him. "I don't know anything about them."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know their names, where they went to school, nothing! I haven't even seen their parents. You would think they'd be the ones leading this campaign, not my mom." Buffy straightened. "We need to know more about those children. Let's see if we can't find Giles in the library. He should still be there." She gave Spike a sympathetic look. "He'll have bandages for your shoulder too."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Spike asked gamely.

Buffy reached for his arm before she could stop herself. "Spike, whatever is going on—Mom likes you. I'm sure she didn't mean to try and kill you."

A pained expression crossed his face and he gave a short nod. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Spike wasn't certain of anything, nor was he sure he could trust anyone at this point. Except, perhaps, for Buffy.

~~~~~

The feeling of tension in the library was nearly palpable. It went beyond Giles' anger at his inability to work with the computer, or Oz's concern for Willow, or even Xander's continual joking. There was the sense like that of the air right before a heavy storm, full of electricity and danger.

Oz was plugging away on the computer as Willow sent information their way. Spike listened in, waiting patiently for Buffy to finish her first aid job. He couldn't quite control his reaction to her hands on his bare skin. She was being a lot gentler with him than she'd been in the past.

The tension that hung between them had the same impending feeling, but without the danger.

"Willow says that the articles pop up every fifty years, as far back as 1649," Oz said.

Giles peered at the screen. "Hans Strauss, age eight, and Greta Strauss, age six."

"What about it?" Buffy asked.

Spike was frowning. "You thinking a paranoia demon of some sort, Watcher?"

Giles nodded slowly, explaining for the benefit of the others, "There are demons that stir up feelings of hatred and violence among humans, feeding on those emotions. I imagine we've got one of those on our hands."

"So what's this about Hans and Greta?" Xander asked.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Seems to me we've got something out of the Brothers Grimm here."

"Hansel and Gretel," Oz observed.

"As in breadcrumbs, evil witches, and gingerbread?" Xander asked, looking around the room.

Buffy shook her head. "Hansel and Gretel come back to the village, tell the people about the nasty, evil witch—"

"And a mob kills a great many innocent people," Giles finished. "Yes, I think that's exactly what's going on."

"So what do we do about it?" Oz asked.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to trade in my cow for some beans," Xander joked.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Enough, Harris. This is serious."

Xander opened his mouth to argue, but Buffy cut him off. "We need to go find my mom. When we explain this, she'll defuse the whole thing."

Spike stood to go with her, but the Slayer shook her head. "No, Spike, I'm not going to risk you. She may decide to shoot first and listen to us later." The doors to the library flew open, and a boy Spike didn't recognize ran in, out of breath, his face bruised and bleeding. "What happened, Michael?" Buffy asked.

"I was attacked."

"By who?" Buffy asked.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. "My dad, his friends, a bunch of others. They're going door to door, and they're talking about a trial at City Hall. They got Amy."

"Michael, stay here and hide. Giles, let's find my mom."

Oz was looking at the last instant message that Willow had sent. He glanced over at Spike. "Willow!"

Spike nodded. If he couldn't go with the Slayer, he would help Oz find Willow. He was just as concerned about the girl as the werewolf. "Let's go."

"Hide in my office," Giles was saying to Michael as Spike followed Oz out of the library, Xander close on their heels.

"Wait up," he called. "So what's the plan?"

Spike and Oz shared a look. "We rescue the girl," Spike said. "What else?"