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 20

"I want to look back and see you in the branches./Little by little you turned into fruit./It was easy for you to rise from the roots,/singing your syllable of sap./Here you will be a fragrant flower first,/changed to the statuesque form of a kiss,/till the sun and the earth, blood and the sky, fulfill/their promises of sweetness and pleasure in you...my mouth will fill with the taste of you,/the kiss that rose from the earth/with your blood, the blood of a lover's fruit." ~Pablo Neruda, "Sonnet XLVII"

Willow's bedroom was a complete shambles when they arrived, showing the signs of a struggle. Spike watched as Oz's hands clenched and unclenched in anger. He understood the feeling quite well. The idea that someone would harm Willow—

"We have to get to City Hall," Oz stated.

Spike turned to leave. "Let's go."

Even Xander was serious at this point, his dark eyes grim. They took Oz's van to City Hall, since it was available. The trip took only a few minutes, and all three hit the front doors, immediately coming face to face with a small knot of men.

Spike smiled, and the expression wasn't a pleasant one. "What's going on here, mates?"

"We're conducting a trial," one of the men responded, staring at the three suspiciously. "Only members of MOO are allowed in."

"MOO?" Spike asked.

"Mothers Opposed to the Occult," a second man supplied.

Spike frowned, pretending to give the name due consideration. "You know," he began, "I've been out of town for the last couple days, missed the whole thing. That organization sounds like something I could get behind."

Spike was only a couple of paces away from the men, and when he saw that they'd relaxed their guard slightly, his fist shot out, immediately putting one of the guards down. The other three pounced on the vampire, but he was more than a match for them, in spite of the wound in his shoulder.

When all four men lay on the floor, unconscious, Spike smirked. "That was bracing." He pushed the door open, allowing the two boys to slip in first before following them.

"Now what?" Xander hissed. Joyce was saying that she had wanted a normal daughter, and torches were being lit all over the room. The crowd was standing in a loose semi-circle around three large, wooden stakes, each one with a person tied to it. "We can't fight an entire crowd."

Spike felt his stomach drop when he saw that Buffy was one of those tied to a stake. He pulled a switchblade out of his jacket pocket. "I need a distraction," he muttered. "Can you get me one?"

Oz glanced over to the fire hose. "Done."

Spike started skirting the crowd carefully, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone with a torch. He was, after all, highly flammable.

Amy shouted something, but Spike wasn't paying attention to her. His focus was solely on Buffy, his fear that he wouldn't be able to reach her before she got burnt. Willow cried out, and he was torn between who to go to first.

Just then, the water from the fire hose began to hit the crowd and the flaming books, alternating between targets. Spike took his opportunity, dashing in to first cut Willow's bonds, then Buffy's. The crowd was shouting and milling about helplessly when Giles arrived, Joyce demanding that the people stop the girls from escaping.

The two children were calling out for the bad girls to be punished, and Giles began to chant in nearly unintelligible German. Spike winced at the Watcher's accent, even as he put Willow behind him. "What is Giles doing?" Buffy asked.

"Something about unveiling the demon's true face," Spike replied, frowning. "I can barely tell what the bloody hell he's saying, though."

Willow caught sight of Oz through the crowd. "Oz!"

"He's fine where he is, pet," Spike assured her. "Stay put 'til Giles does his mojo."

Giles finished the spell, throwing a bottle to the floor. Smoke rose up, obscuring the figures of the children briefly before it cleared. The two blond innocents had become a seven foot tall demon. The remaining crowd began to scream, including Joyce.

Buffy didn't waste any time. She jumped onto the pile of books, using her strength to pull the large stake up and run it through the demon's chest. It collapsed with a groan and silence fell over the shocked crowd.

"Willow, you okay?" Oz asked, running over to her.

She nodded. "Fine," she replied, grabbing onto him.

Joyce looked at the demon in horror, then turned her eyes on Buffy and Spike. "Oh, dear."

~~~~~

"I'm so very sorry." It was the fifth time that night that Joyce had apologized. Buffy had been soaked by the fire hose, and Joyce had insisted that Spike come back to the house with them when she drove Buffy to get showered and changed.

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. Now that he knew Joyce's attitude was caused by the spell, he was more inclined to forgive and forget. "It's fine. Wasn't your fault."

"I should have known," Joyce insisted, putting a few more miniature marshmallows in his mug of hot chocolate. "I mean, the children were dead and they were talking to me. Rupert wasn't taken in."

Spike smiled. "Rupert's had a few more years experience with this sort of thing, luv. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"But I shot you!" Joyce protested. "I really am—"

Spike held up a hand to stop her. "Tell you what. If you stop apologizing, I'll promise not to hold it against you."

Joyce nodded, giving him a rueful smile. "Fair enough."

Buffy entered the kitchen, dressed in sweats, her hair still wet. "Ooh, hot chocolate," she said. "Just what I need."

"Buffy, I'm—"

The Slayer held up a hand in an unconscious imitation of the vampire. "Mom, it's no biggie. No one got hurt, and that's all that matters." She paused. "Although, I don't know if Willow knows how to de-rat Amy."

"That was a neat trick," Spike commented. "Don't think I've ever seen anything like that before."

Buffy grimaced. "Trust me. It's not nearly as fun as it looks."

Joyce looked at her daughter strangely. "How would you know?"

"You remember last year when Xander was being chased by all those women, including you?" Buffy asked with a smug smile.

A tinge of pink entered the woman's cheeks. "I vaguely recall finding Xander and Cordelia in my basement," was all she would admit to.

"Well, Amy turned me into a rat to give her a better chance with Xander," Buffy explained. "It was interesting, especially the part where I got turned back with no clothes on right in front of Oz."

"Lucky man," Spike muttered into his hot chocolate, not quite loud enough for Joyce to hear.

Buffy caught it, however, giving Spike's leg a surreptitious kick under the counter. "Shut up."

"Buffy," Joyce warned her.

Buffy had no desire to explain why she was telling Spike to shut up, so she didn't argue. "I think I'm going to head to bed."

"I should be going then," he said, standing. To his surprise, Joyce came over and gave him a gentle hug.

"I'm glad you're okay, William," she murmured into his ear. "I never would have forgiven myself if I had hurt you."

Spike didn't bother pointing out that she had hurt him, even if she hadn't done any permanent damage. He was still reeling from the hug.

He hadn't been hugged like that since before he'd become a vampire.

Spike returned the embrace out of long-buried reflex. "Don't worry about it," he insisted lamely.

Joyce released him, and Spike headed for the front door, Buffy right behind him. "Thanks for showing up tonight."

He shrugged. "Didn't do all that much."

"You did lots." Buffy smiled at him.

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither knowing quite what to say. "I should go."

"Yeah."

Spike finally turned towards the door, breaking the silence. "Good night, Buffy."

Buffy stopped him with a hand on his arm, telling herself that she was only doing what she would have done for Xander had he saved her. The kiss was on Spike's cheek, so it was no more than a friendly gesture.

Buffy could do denial better than anyone.

Spike stared at her in surprise, then he smiled, slipping out into the night without saying anything.

~~~~~

Oz sat, waiting patiently for Willow to finish showering. Sheila had driven Willow home, but he really hadn't wanted to let her out of his sight. She'd let him in through her garden doors, asking if he would mind if she showered. The smell of smoke had still clung to her skin and hair.

She could wash the smell away, but Oz couldn't shake the sense that he'd nearly lost her.

Willow slipped into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. "Hey."

"Hey."

She came to him willingly, burying her face in his shoulder as he stroked her hair. "Thanks for staying."

"I had to be sure you were okay."

They sat quietly. This was what Willow loved best about Oz: his ability to simply be. It was the perfect balance to her often-frenetic pace. He provided a certain kind of stability. She still couldn't quite believe that she'd almost thrown this away.

"Mom said you had to come to dinner," Willow said softly. "She's pretty much forgotten the rest of it, but she remembers me saying I was dating you."

Oz smiled. "How bad could it be?"

"Pretty bad," Willow replied. "She'll talk a lot about how I'm asserting my independence by dating outside my religion, and then she'll say that she supports my autonomy when she really means she disapproves."

He brushed her hair back from her face. "Is that a problem?"

"No." She took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent that was uniquely Oz. It was soap and skin and something just a little wilder. "It's not like she really cares anyway."

Oz tightened his grip, a wordless affirmation that he did.

"Oz?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming for me." Willow grinned. "You guys were cool."

Oz could do nothing but smile back. He loved her so much it scared him sometimes. It scared him how much it could hurt. "We were."

~~~~~

"Rupert," Spike said, surprised to see the Watcher at his door. He looked a little closer. "You alright? You don't look that great."

Giles gave a quick shake of his head. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Has someone been keeping you up at night?" Spike asked with a sly smile.

The man glared. "No, and even so, it wouldn't be any of your business."

"Temper, temper," Spike jibed. "It was a fair question." His eyes turned suddenly serious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Giles took a deep breath, hoping that the vampire wouldn't be able to sense the fact that he was lying. "I just wanted to let you know that I wanted to concentrate on other areas of Buffy's training for the next couple weeks."

Spike's brow furrowed. "Like what?"

"Some of the more arcane aspects of being the Slayer," Giles replied. "It's really not necessary for you to be there."

The vampire shrugged. "Right. I guess I'll focus on patrolling, then."

"That would be appreciated." Giles cleared his throat. "Have you seen Faith recently?"

"I don't keep tabs on her, Watcher." Spike poured himself a drink and offered one to Giles. "To answer your question, though, no. Haven't seen her around today."

"She leaves often?"

"Occasionally." Spike swirled the alcohol in his glass. "We're not close."

Giles sat down at the table. "I thought—"

"Figured I'd offer her a better situation, Rupert, but Faith's not the sort to let herself get tied down." Spike stared at the grain of the wood in the table. "She's a wild one."

"You're still concerned about her," Giles stated.

Spike nodded slowly. "Told you. She's a wild child. She might settle, but—I've seen that sort before, and it usually takes something to bring them up short."

Giles sighed. "I'm not sure what that would be."

"There's nothing to be done about it at the moment," Spike said. "Try to control her, and she'll go crazy. Give her time, and she might settle. Just depends on what the next few months bring."

The Watcher stood. "I'll trust that you know what you're talking about. Thank you for assisting Buffy with patrol."

"It's part of the full service package," Spike replied. "I'll see you around, Rupert."

Giles nodded, heading out the door, wondering what Spike would do to him when the vampire discovered his role in the Cruciamentum.

Giles put a steadying hand on the hood of his car. He had the feeling that if Spike didn't kill him, Joyce certainly would.

~~~~~

Buffy wondered if there was a way to change her birth date. Maybe if she picked a different day, the bad luck wouldn't follow her. Buffy wished she could get away with not celebrating, but everyone else seemed intent on partying.

All Buffy wanted to do was stay home, watch some TV, and crawl into bed. If there was ice cream involved, that wouldn't be so bad.

She'd thought if she kept her head down, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After almost getting killed the night before, however, it looked like her luck was holding.

And it was all bad.

Buffy was a little surprised to see Spike when she walked into the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, too, Slayer," he responded with a smirk.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean. I wasn't expecting you." Her eyes went to the flowers on the counter. "Ooh, present."

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Joyce said from her position at the stove. "Your father said he couldn't get away. Business is very hectic right now. He said he wanted to make it up to you, though, and he sent the tickets."

Buffy plucked the tickets from the arrangement, not even bothering to open the card. It wasn't fair. Her father had taken her to the ice show every year for her birthday since she was small. It was tradition, and now...

She glanced up, inadvertently meeting Spike's eyes. He was looking at her like that again. Like he felt sorry, like he cared. As though he wanted to make things easier somehow. "It's fine," she said. "I was getting a little too old for that kind of thing anyway." Buffy dropped the tickets on the counter. "I'm going to get changed."

Buffy nearly fled, not wanting either her mom or Spike to see how disappointed she really was. "Looks like it's going to be another Buffy birthday special," she muttered.

"I'm sorry."

Spike's voice came from right behind her, causing her to jump. "Say something, why don't you! Make some noise!"

"You're the Slayer," Spike replied. "You're supposed to know when a vampire is close."

"I knew you were close," Buffy shot back. "You were in the house." She paused. "Why are you in the house?"

"There a problem with me being here?" Spike asked, his tone intentionally snide. He knew how Buffy liked to work out her anger, and they couldn't get physical inside the house. Verbal sparring often relieved just as much tension.

Buffy lifted her chin. "Yes! You—" She stopped. "No."

This was new. Buffy never called it quits, especially not when they were just getting warmed up. "Are you alright, pet?"

Absurdly, Spike's question made her want to cry. His voice was so gentle. "I really hate it when you do that, you know?"

"Do what?"

"When you're that nice."

"You'd rather have me hit you?"

"Sometimes." Buffy realized that they were standing in the hallway outside of her bedroom, and she went inside to sit on the bed. "It's just—you can be really nice."

Spike sat down next to her gingerly, knowing that they were close to crossing a line that maybe shouldn't be crossed. "It's a character flaw."

"It makes me forget that you're here to do a job." Buffy refused to meet his eyes. "It's almost like you care."

"Maybe that's because I almost do." His tone was light, but when she glanced up, Spike's eyes were dead serious. "Told you before that it's not just a job." Spike chuckled nervously. "And while we're on the topic..."

Buffy frowned, not knowing quite what to do when he held out a box. "What's that?"

"Your prezzie, innit?" Spike asked, his voice almost hoarse. "Go ahead then."

She opened the box slowly, staring at the bracelet inside. A silver filigree box hung from a thick silver chain. Buffy reached for it, but Spike's hand came down over hers before she could touch it. "It's charmed," he said quietly. "When you're wearing it, I'll be able to find you, no matter where you are. Figured it might come in handy."

"How does it work?" she asked, a little shaky. This felt monumental, though she wasn't sure why.

Spike dug in his pocket for his key ring. A little compass hung off of it. "Looks like a regular compass, but it doesn't work quite that way," he explained. "As long as you're wearing that bracelet, though, it'll lead me right to you."

"Why?"

"Because," Spike stopped, unsure of what else he could say. "Because it's important." He was silent, watching Buffy as she stared at the piece of jewelry. "You don't have to—"

Whatever else he might have said was cut off when Buffy picked up the bracelet then held out her wrist to him. "I think it's a really good idea."

Spike made sure the clasp was fully closed. "So you like it?"

"It's beautiful." Buffy smiled at him. "I don't wear just any fashion accessory, you know."

He returned her smile, a hint of shyness in his expression that Buffy didn't think she'd seen before. "I figured." Her hand was still lying in his, but Spike didn't make any moves to let her go. "Happy birthday, Buffy."

Buffy felt a warmth spread through her. "Maybe it will be."