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 28

"The fire for light, a rancorous moon for bread,/the jasmine smearing around its bruised secrets:/then from a terrifying love, soft white hands/poured peace into my eyes and sun into my senses./O love, how quickly you built a sweet/firmness where the wounds had been!/You fought off the talons and claws, and now/we stand as a single life before the world...then there will be no you, no me, no light,/and yet beyond the earth, beyond its shadowy dark, the splendor of our love will be alive." ~Pablo Neruda "Sonnet XXIII"

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was in over his head. He just didn't want to admit it.

When the Council had sent him to Sunnydale, it was with the understanding that whatever had gone wrong was solely the fault of Giles' unconventional methods. Travers had told him that Giles had sold out as a Watcher, that he was obviously too weak to deal with the challenges of handling a Slayer. The idea was that if Wesley did exactly what he was trained to do, everything would go according to plan.

Instead, Wesley had found himself in series of unpredictable situations—situations in which his Council training didn't seem to apply. Faith had killed a man, Buffy was dating a myth, and Wesley had discovered that Giles, for all of his unorthodox tactics, seemed to know what he was talking about.

The only bright spot was Miss Cordelia Chase, and he knew that a relationship with a student would not only be unwise but also rather unethical.

Still, a man could appreciate a beautiful girl who seemed to appreciate him in return.

The knock that came at his apartment door startled him. Wesley certainly hadn't been expecting anyone, and there wasn't anybody he was aware of who would visit. Without thinking about it, he called out, "Come in."

"You know, it's probably not a good idea to issue an invitation when you don't know who's at the door."

The voice sent chills down his spine, and Wesley quickly looked around for any means of escape as Spike sauntered inside. "Spike, I—"

"I imagine you've been expecting me," Spike said. "After all, a bloke doesn't forget who was responsible for trussing him up."

Wesley realized that his only viable avenue of exit was the front door, and he'd have to get around Spike for that. Besides, now that the vampire had an invitation to his apartment, he could enter any time he wished. "There's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Let's hear it," Spike said, sprawling on the second-hand couch Wesley had purchased.

Wesley was taken aback by the vampire's rather cordial invitation. "I, uh, you see—" He straightened his shoulders. "It was my duty to inform the Council of Faith's actions and her inability to take responsibility."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why was it your duty?" Spike raised an eyebrow. "You're out in the field now, Wes. What the Council doesn't know certainly won't hurt them. You and Rupert could have worked together to take care of the situation."

Wesley frowned. "Mr. Giles was relieved of his duties."

"Rupert acted in his Slayer's best interests. I thought that's what a Watcher was supposed to do." Spike watched as his words sank in to Wesley's thick skull. The poor git had been spoon-fed duty and responsibility for so long, he'd probably never made an independent decision.

In fact, Spike would bet his Mustang that Wesley had never been allowed to make an independent decision. That was probably why he'd been chosen to come to Sunnydale.

"A Watcher's duty is to his Slayer and the Council," Wesley said, sounding as though he was reciting by rote memory, which he was.

"And when those duties are in conflict?" Spike asked shrewdly.

Wesley shook himself, wondering if Spike was trying to put some kind of thrall over him. His duty was to the Council. There was always a reason behind their actions.

Always? The little voice inside his head questioned.

When Spike didn't get a reply, he simply nodded. "I told you, Wesley, I'm going to keep you alive so you've got a decent chance at learning to think for yourself. Not sure why I feel it's necessary. I've killed people for less than what you did to me."

Wesley tried not to give away the fact that he was quaking in his loafers. "You could try."

Spike chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I like about you, mate. You've got stones somewhere in there." He stood up, coming close to the other man. "Let me make this very clear, however. Buffy's my responsibility. You thought you were doing the best thing for Faith, but if you ever pull that sort of thing on Buffy, I'll kill you, and it won't be quick."

Wesley managed to hold himself upright until the front door closed behind Spike, and then he slid down the wall, resting his forehead on his knees. He had no doubt that Spike not only meant what he said, but also that he would make good on his threat.

There was no doubt about it. Wesley was in over his head.

~~~~~

Spike had made the trip by the Watcher's place on his way to have dinner with Joyce and Buffy. While he'd been pissed as hell about Wesley's betrayal, he'd given himself some time to calm down and had come to the decision that the idiot was merely doing what he knew how to do.

There was no sense in getting angry when a cat killed a mouse, just like there was no sense in getting angry when a rabbit froze in the headlights of your car. Of course, that didn't mean Wesley couldn't change his nature. Spike figured he'd give the Watcher a chance. After that, he'd kill him.

Well, he probably wouldn't kill him, but he'd make sure that Wesley learned his lesson.

It wasn't that he liked the man. Hardly. It was just that Spike remembered what it was like to not fit inside his own skin, or to fit in with anybody else. He could afford to feel some sympathy for him.

Dinner was pleasant, although Spike was getting the sense that Buffy wasn't very happy. He didn't know if it had to do with him, or if it was something else entirely. When she followed him out to the back porch for an after-dinner smoke, he asked her about it.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "You know, Wesley's just pulling out the tests. I didn't think you could get tested over all that stuff."

"You talked to Faith recently?" Spike asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I see her, we say hi. I don't know if you could actually say that we talk." She glanced over at him. "What about you? Have you talked to her?"

"No," Spike replied mildly, sensing the danger. "Don't have anything to say to her." Buffy nodded, but the faint light of discontent didn't go away. "You'd tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn't you?" Spike asked.

"What?" Buffy asked, glancing over at him. "Oh, sure."

Spike wasn't quite sure he bought that.

~~~~~

Willow shifted from foot to foot, wondering if this was a good idea. It was just that she knew that Buffy was probably going to try to get to the Bronze that night, and it would be a really good time for Spike to prove himself to be good boyfriend material.

Plus, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to catch him any other time. He was usually out patrolling at night, and there were always other people around when they were at the library.

The door opened soon after her first timid knock, however, and Spike greeted her cheerfully enough. "Red? What are you doing here?"

"I—I need to talk to you," she said, steeling herself.

He raised an eyebrow but waved her inside. "Can I help you with something?"

"Buffy's not happy," Willow blurted out, her carefully prepared speech flying right out of her head.

Spike frowned. "Yeah? What's up? Noticed that something was off when we had dinner last night, but she wouldn't tell me what's wrong."

"That's because it's you." At the expression on Spike's face, Willow quickly backpedaled. "Oh! I didn't mean she doesn't like you. It's just that you guys haven't done anything fun."

"Fun?" Spike ran a hand through his hair. "What do you mean?" He started wandering towards the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," Willow replied. "You guys don't, you know, date."

Spike looked completely bewildered. "Don't think I understand."

Willow's eyes narrowed. "How long has it been since you've been on a date, Spike?" His silence was answer enough. "Have you ever been on a date?"

If vampires could blush, Spike certainly would have. "No," he mumbled. "Never got the bleeding chance."

Willow suddenly felt tremendously sorry for him. "Oh, well, you just need a few pointers then."

"Didn't know I was doing it wrong," Spike muttered. "You'd think Buffy would have said something."

"You're not doing it wrong!" Willow assured him. "Buffy's not unhappy with you. It's more circumstances, you know, because you guys don't have any time to do couple-y things." At Spike's blank look, Willow sighed. "Buffy's going to be at the Bronze tonight. Did she say anything about that?"

Spike frowned. "Yeah, I think she said something about going. I figured she would want me to patrol or something for her."

It was a sweet thought, but Willow knew that Buffy would probably appreciate dancing with her boyfriend a little more. "Why not skip patrol for the night?" she suggested gently.

Spike frowned. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Show up, hang out, maybe dance," she suggested. "Ask her if she wants something to drink. Just be there."

"And that'll make Buffy happy?" Spike asked, sounding none too sure of that.

Willow sighed. "Spike, you really need to learn to have some fun."

Spike gave her an exasperated look. "I know how to have fun."

"Fine, then learn how Buffy likes to have fun," Willow chided gently. "Trust me, it'll make her really happy if you show up at the Bronze tonight for something other than killing the bad guys."

Spike shrugged. "Fine. If it'll make her happy."

Willow grinned at him. "Sleep tight, Spike," she said as she left.

Spike waited until she was gone before saying, "Haven't slept in weeks, Red. Don't know why I'd want to start now."

~~~~~

Spike still wasn't quite sure what Buffy expected of him. He had told Buffy that he was all in, and that was the truth. When Spike said something like that, he meant it with his whole being.

He had been honest with Willow, however. Spike had never "dated" anybody. Even Anouk, who was probably the closest thing to a girlfriend he'd ever had—not including Drusilla—wasn't somebody he'd done much with besides have sex and the occasional conversation that wasn't work-related.

So trying to figure out what exactly one did with a human girlfriend, and a young one at that, was more than a bit challenging. While Willow's suggestion that he just show up and hang out appeared simple enough on the surface, Spike wasn't all that certain. If this was supposed to be a date, did he need to wear something special? Should he bring flowers? Were they past that stage, or had they not reached it yet?

What the bloody hell was he supposed to do other than keep her safe? It was a question he didn't have an answer to.

Still, he didn't doubt that the witch knew what she was talking about when she told him to show up at the Bronze. When he arrived around nine, it was with a feeling of nervousness that he hadn't experienced in decades, which was utterly ridiculous. After all, Spike knew Buffy. He had no reason to be nervous.

Spike saw Oz on the stage setting up with no small measure of relief. He wondered if the boy had any advice on this dating thing. Oz, at least, seemed to be keeping Willow a happy witch.

"Hey, Spike," Oz greeted him. "You looking for Buffy?"

Spike shrugged. "Your girl said I should show up tonight. Something about me not having enough fun."

Amusement flitted subtly through his eyes. "She should talk."

The vampire smiled. "Yeah. You seen the Slayer?"

Oz shook his head. "No, but she said she'd show. I doubt you'll have to wait too long."

There was a loud bang from the front, and both Oz and Spike looked up to see a gang of vampires strolling in. "Bloody hell," Spike muttered.

"This doesn't look good."

Spike's left hand twitched towards his jacket pocket where he'd stuck a stake. It was the only weapon he had, though, and there were at least ten vamps. "No, it doesn't," he agreed.

"Can you get out of here?" Oz asked. "Get Buffy?"

Spike frowned. "Not sure I should leave," he objected. There was no telling how much damage the vampires could do in his absence, and the idea of leaving Oz at their mercy galled him.

"With odds like that, it could get pointless," Oz murmured.

Spike was about to shake his head, deciding that he could do more good on his own than if he left to get Buffy, when Willow walked in.

Willow, who was only too obviously a vampire.

Willow, his friend.

There was steel in Oz's voice when he spoke. "Get Buffy."

~~~~~

Buffy had never really thought about what it would mean to lose one of her friends. She might be the Slayer, and therefore likely to die an early death, but that didn't apply to Xander or Willow. Of course, she knew that Jesse had been turned, knew that Xander had been forced to dust the thing that was left, but she hadn't known Jesse.

Not like she knew Willow.

The very idea that Willow wouldn't be around, that Buffy would never be able to talk to her again, that they'd never go for another mocha, it was like the world had stopped spinning.

The relief she felt when Willow came walking through the doors of the library was very nearly overwhelming.

Once the hugging had been taken care of, they all sat down. Willow was feeling much less rebellious at this point, knowing that there was a vampire-version of her out on the town. All day she'd been thinking up strategies for getting people to see her less as dependable-Willow and more as fun-Willow. Now she was thinking that dependable might be okay as long as she wasn't a vampire.

Although, maybe vampire-Willow was dependable—about killing people.

"I don't like the idea that there's a vampire out there who looks like me," Willow said.

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "Not looks like you, Will. Is you, right down to the last detail. Except for you not being a dominatrix." She paused. "Unless there's something we don't know."

Willow grimaced and rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. Oz and I play Mistress of Pain every night."

There was a long silence as that mental image hit them all at the same time. "Did anybody else just go to a scary place?" Xander asked.

"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, as Giles shook his head, trying to get rid of it.

Willow frowned. "I just don't understand why—oh!"

"What, oh?" Giles asked.

Willow winced. "Oh, uh, I think I know why the vampire's here. I did a bad thing."

Before she could explain that she'd delved into the black arts with Anya—and had apparently botched it—Spike came running into the library. "Buffy! We need you down at the Bronze. It's—" He stopped cold, staring at Willow, who gave him a timid wave. "Willow?"

"Hey."

For a moment, Willow really thought Spike was going to hug her, but then he was all business again. "There's a gang of vampires at the Bronze, and they're looking to do some damage." Spike frowned, still trying to process what his senses were telling him. There was Willow, alive and human. In pink. Breathing. "And one of them looks a lot like Red here."

Xander patted him on the shoulder. "I know. We saw her earlier."

Buffy made a face. "It wasn't fun." She looked at her friend. "You were saying?"

Willow sighed. She had really hoped she wouldn't have to explain. "That new girl Anya? She wanted me to help her with a spell. I think that's what brought vampire-me here."

Giles frowned. "Willow—"

"I know!" she quickly said. "Bad Willow. It's just that I wanted to do something, and—never mind."

Spike shook his head. "We don't have time for this. Those vamps meant business."

Buffy nodded. "Spike's right. We need to stop the feeding frenzy before we do anything else. How many were there?" she asked Spike.

"Eight or ten at the most," Spike replied. "Enough so that I didn't like the odds, especially—"

Buffy nodded, knowing what he wasn't saying. "Okay, let's go."

"Uh, guys?" Willow called, stopping them. "What are you going to do with her?"

Spike and Buffy exchanged looks. "I don't know, Will," the Slayer replied. "I think right now we just have to concentrate on stopping her."

Willow nodded. "Oh, right." They all turned towards the door again, and she called out after them, "You go on! I just have to get something."

The tranquilizer gun was behind the library counter. Willow thought that if they could knock her doppelganger out, she might have enough time to figure out how to send her back. It only seemed fair, since she was the one who had brought the vampire here in the first place.

She sighed. The day had started out so well, too. Spike had seemed receptive, if bewildered, after their talk. He'd obviously taken her advice and had shown up at the Bronze. Good thing, too. Otherwise, who knew when they would have known about vampire-Willow taking over.

But then Snyder had ordered her to do Percy's homework, and Percy had been a real jerk about it—not appreciative at all. And Xander and Buffy kept talking about how reliable she was, and Oz hadn't told her about his gig because he didn't think she would want to miss school. Willow knew she wasn't that boring.

Was she?

Anyway, after all of that, she'd been all too willing to help Anya with her spell, especially knowing that Giles would not approve. Just then, she'd wanted to do something to show everybody that there was more to her than Reliable Willow. That she too could be unpredictable. That she wouldn't let people walk all over her.

All she'd managed to do was to pull a vampire version of herself out of some weird alternate dimension. Yeah, that was real smooth.

Willow sighed as she reached over the counter, trying to get the tranquilizer gun. She couldn't quite reach it from that angle, and so she started going around.

She was going to have to put things right, she thought, just as a strong hand clamped down over her mouth, and a very familiar voice spoke.

"Alone at last."