Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet- Chapter 19
Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 15:04:20 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


Chapter 19: The Death of Innocence

"Buffy, I don't think this is a good idea," Spike protested. They stood in the 
kitchen, he strategically keeping out of the patches of sunlight.

"Well, I think it's a great idea," Buffy replied, taking a swallow of her 
coffee. She gave him a sympathetic look. "I know you worry about me, Spike, but 
I'm the Slayer. This is what I do."

He looked away and finished off the rest of his blood. "Doesn't mean I have to 
like it," he mumbled.

She smiled. Normally she might have been angry that he was worried, but her 
attitude had shifted just a little bit over the last months. Now she just 
thought it was cute. "I know, but I can handle three nerds. I promise." She 
came over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'll be careful."

Buffy had no doubt she could handle herself, and she had no doubt she was 
right. It only made sense that the house they were closest to on the list when 
the gargling demon attacked was the one the nerds were using to hide out. She 
wanted to go this morning. She was still fuming about those cameras.

He gave her a rueful smile. "You do that, luv." Spike stroked her cheek. "Don't 
know what it would do to me if I lost you."

Her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes. It was infinitely 
tender, amazingly gentle. And utterly adoring. Had anyone ever looked at her 
like that? She could only touch his own face in reply, a silent promise. Spike 
continued to stare at the place she had left long after she had gone, Dawn's 
voice finally breaking into his thoughts. "So, you and my sister, huh?"

He turned to look at her. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen in her 
pajamas, completely comfortable around him after a year of sharing a house. "We 
might be moving in that direction," he acknowledged uncomfortably.

Dawn rolled her eyes expressively and pulled out a bowl for her cereal. "Which 
is why you haven't spent a night in the basement in weeks."

Spike shook his head. "It's not like you think, Bit," he said. "We're movin' 
slow, and I don't know that Buffy's sure what she wants."

"But you love her." Dawn's words were a statement, not a question, and they 
both knew it. At his silent nod, she gave him a knowing look. "She wants you. 
She just hasn't admitted it yet." Spike looked a little uncertain. It ran that 
way with him; one day he was completely certain of how Buffy felt, other days 
he hadn't a clue and hope was low. Today he was questioning how long this stage 
of their relationship would go on, with him hanging on her every word, unsure 
of his future. "Trust me, Spike," Dawn said quietly. "She really, really likes 
you. I think she's happier with you now than she's been in a long time."

He looked at her and a smile softened his harsh features. "Thanks, Niblet. 
You're a good friend, you know. A good sister."

Dawn's face lit up and she gave him a hug. Then she looked up at him, 
excitement written across her face. "Tara and Willow made up! They're—"

"Upstairs even as we speak," Spike interrupted with a smile.

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Enhanced vampire senses. I could smell 'em."

Dawn got a look on her face that was somewhere between "cool" and "ewww." "That 
might have been more than I needed to know."

He grinned. "Come on, Bit. Let's see what's on the telly. I'm sure those two 
birds won't mind if we ignore 'em for a while."

~~~~~

"I wanted to talk to you." Buffy stood in Xander's doorway. He already had a 
beer in his hand, which didn't bode well for their conversation. She'd never 
had much luck talking to drunks.

He swung the door open wider. "Come on in. There's plenty more where this came 
from."

"It's a little early for me." Buffy followed him in the door, concern drawing 
her face down as she saw the mess his apartment had become. It was pretty much 
trashed, and only some of the mess came from not picking up; the rest was 
self-made. She sighed. "Xander, I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"What, so you're sorry for banging the undead bloodsucker right under our 
noses? Is that it?" The look on her friend's face was hurt, angry, bitter. She 
hated it when Xander got like this, because he usually became cruel as well.

Suddenly Buffy was sorry she'd come. She'd wanted to make up with Xander, maybe 
even explain that there wasn't any sex going on. (Without telling him about 
Spike's little condition.) But she realized that he was in the mood to do a lot 
of shouting and not much listening, and that was what talking things through 
would require. Him doing some listening. "Forget it, Xander," she said quietly. 
"You don't want to even try to understand."

He stood, his face twisted in anger. "So you're going back to someone who does 
understand, is that it?" he demanded.

"What if I am?" she cried. "You don't get it, Xander. Spike has changed. He's 
done so much for me this last year, more than just saving Dawn. He's been 
there. You know that, you seemed to accept that."

"But I never forgot what he is, Buffy! He doesn't have a soul! All he's got is 
some leash the government jammed inside his head." And that's what this boiled 
down to, Buffy knew. No soul equals no good, no matter what. She understood how 
Xander could feel that way, she had been there herself. But she'd found herself 
questioning all of that the night Spike chose to keep the chip. If he hadn't 
changed, he should have jumped at the chance to be free of it.

 She looked him in the eye. "I'm not sure I believe that anymore. I don't think 
Spike would hurt any of us if the chip came out."

"Would you stake Dawn's life on it?" Xander asked.

She hesitated. Then remembered Spike's face after he was tortured by Glory. His 
immediate question when he woke after falling off the tower. All the things 
he'd done for her sister. "I already have," she said, and walked out the door.

~~~~~

Spike lay back on Buffy's bed, half reading, half keeping an ear out for her 
return. Concern gnawed at his thoughts. After this morning's near escape with 
the buzz saws and then the rather distressing conversation with Harris, who was 
still being a complete ponce, he wasn't at all sure she was up to a patrol. Of 
course, she was equally sure that she was. Stubborn girl.

He sat up abruptly as she limped into the room. "You're hurt."

Buffy winced. "I got kicked into a tombstone by a dusty vampire. Which is just 
wrong."

Grabbing his crutches, he swung himself over to her. "Let me see." He watched 
her hesitate, and then she sat on the bed obediently, pulling her shirt up. 
Spike winced for her. "That's one nasty bruise, luv. Think you should get 
yourself into a nice hot bath and soak for a while."

She gave him a grateful look. "That sounds wonderful."

He touched her cheek and leaned down to give her a soft kiss. "Why don't you 
change, and I'll start up the bath water?" He was as good as his word, and he 
made sure the water wasn't going to be too hot for her before she came in, 
walking stiffly. He was going to take himself out since he and Buffy hadn't 
really gotten to the "being comfortable naked" stage. Well, Buffy hadn't gotten 
to that stage, he didn't much care, but there were times he knew not to push 
his luck.

"Wait," she called. "Would you sit with me?"

Spike stared at her. This was a new level, and not one he was sure about. 
"Sure, luv." He turned his back as she got herself into the tub, and then slid 
down the wall so he could see her, but not really see over the rim. He watched 
as the emotions played across her face and suddenly wished he could promise her 
everything was going to be okay. "He'll come around, Buffy."

She glanced up at him, startled by his words. "Xander? Maybe, maybe not. We've 
all changed, Spike, over this last year. Sometimes I look at my friends and 
don't recognize them at all."

He cocked his head to the side, understanding why she would feel that way, and 
knowing that it was the way of things sometimes, to change and take different 
paths. "Happens, pet. Give it some time. Harris'll either come back around and 
you'll be fine, or he won't. I know that's not real comforting, but—"

"That's the way it goes," Buffy finished for him. "Spike. Can I ask you a 
question?"

"Sure, luv."

"If you got the chip out tomorrow, what would you do?"

Spike suddenly sensed that their entire future rested on what he said and 
whether or not Buffy believed him. "There's a part of me that would like to say 
I'd go back to exactly what I was," he said honestly. "And then there's another 
part of me that knows that's not an option anymore. I'm not what I was, Buffy. 
I never will be again. I made my choice somewhere along the way, and I'll stay 
with it. But if it makes you feel any better, it's not just about you, pet. 
It's about me. I like bein' a man. Like bein' treated like one." He smiled, and 
it held a touch of wistfulness in it. "'m not a very good vampire, you know. 
Angelus, now, he would have had this chip out of his head before the first 
month was out."

"Then let's be glad you're not Angelus," Buffy said softly, and in her tone he 
heard acceptance. Of course, accepting it now, and accepting it if the chip 
ever stopped working was a totally different story.

Spike tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, luv. Humans are too easy anymore. 
Except for the Slayer, there's no challenge, and I'm in love with you, which 
means I can't kill you. Killin' demons is a lot more interestin'."

Buffy laughed. "You know, that I'll believe. I'd better get out. This is great, 
but I've got some evil nerds to stop."

"Right then," he said, levering himself up off the floor.

"Spike." He turned, giving his quizzical look, head and eyebrow cocked. 
"There's some ointment in the drawer that Tara gave me for bruises. Would you 
rub it on?"

He smiled. "Sure, luv." He pulled the ointment out and swung himself back into 
her room to wait. She smiled as she walked in, and sat down on the edge of the 
bed, letting her robe slip down to puddle on the covers. He wanted to gasp, to 
tell her how beautiful she was, even with the night's work livid on her skin. 
Instead, he began to spread the ointment on gently, slowly, cool fingers 
working their magic on the tender bruise. And it was her turn to gasp as his 
lips brushed her skin, kissing it to make it better.

Spike couldn't help himself. He ran a hand down one bare arm and breathed in 
deeply of her scent. "Cor, luv. You're so beautiful."

She turned to look at him, and his fair skin and hair seemed to almost glow in 
the lamplight, lending him a warmer tone. "So are you," she said with a smile, 
and brought the robe back up around her shoulders just as Xander's voice 
floated up the stairs. Spike took her hint and gave her one last kiss on her 
neck before exiting her room.

He waited for her to come out before going downstairs, having no desire to see 
the Whelp again. Spike was fairly certain that Buffy had made her point, and 
the boy wouldn't try to stake him, but he wasn't really in the mood to try his 
luck. When she came out, however, he followed her down. Xander ignored him as 
best as he could while he explained what had happened at the Bronze, and Willow 
told the Slayer what she'd managed to find in between breaks with Tara. And 
then Buffy was off to stop the trio and Tara and Willow headed back upstairs. 
And Spike was left alone with Xander.

Silence reigned, neither man willing to say anything. Finally, Xander spoke. 
"If you hurt her, I will stake you. You know that right?"

The vampire met his eyes solemnly. "If I hurt her, I'll let you."

Xander nodded stiffly. "As long as we understand each other then." Spike 
smiled, but said nothing in reply. He understood completely, and the truce was 
acceptable.

~~~~~

"Time for the Spring Poking already?"

Buffy turned to look at Xander as he ambled into her backyard, a somewhat 
sheepish expression on his face. "Just checking to make sure there aren't any 
more Evil Trio cameras. Or Evil Uno."

"The sinister yet addictive card game?"

Buffy smiled at him. It was so easy to slip into their old patterns, the old 
way of speaking. "Warren. Jonathan and Andrew got kinked, but Warren pulled a 
Rocket Man. It was a thing."

Xander smiled and looked down at his feet. "You'll get him. He won't be much 
good without his friends."

"No. He won't," Buffy replied, understanding perfectly.

Xander shook his head, searching for the right words to say and not coming up 
with any. "I wish you would have told me about Spike before. It hurt that you 
wouldn't trust me."

She shook her head and took a seat on the bench next to him. "We aren't 
actually sleeping together, Xander. I mean we are, but we aren't—you know."

He frowned. "You mean, you and he haven't...?

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. But 
somewhere along the way we got to be friends. Maybe it's completely crazy, but 
Spike makes me feel safe."

Xander let out a snort and smiled. "I hate myself for saying it, but it doesn't 
sound as crazy as it probably should have. Besides, Spike and I have reached an 
understanding. He hurts you, he dies. End of story."

"If I need someone to protect me, I know who to go to," she said.

"I wouldn't be any good without you or Will, you know?" Xander asked, desperate 
for some reassurance that everything would be okay between the two of them.

Buffy gave him a fierce hug. "I love you. You know that, right?"

Xander opened his mouth to reply and then his eyes widened in horror. "Buffy—"

Warren came from nowhere, gun in hand. Buffy didn't even catch what he said; 
she was too busy shoving Xander out of the way of the bullets she knew were 
coming. The next thing she knew, there was a burning pain in her left shoulder, 
and she could feel her life slipping through Xander's fingers. 'Funny way to 
go,' she thought. 'Killed by a nerd in broad daylight.'

~~~~~

Spike shot bolt upright on the bed, brought awake by the sound of shots fired 
and the sweet, hot smell of human blood. "Bloody hell," he whispered, pulling 
the brace on his left leg and grabbing his crutches.

By the time he was out in the hallway, he could hear the sounds of Willow's 
keening changing into something else altogether, and the hairs on the back of 
his neck stood straight up as he felt the power charging the air around him. He 
found himself frozen in place, unable to move, until the witch came stalking 
out the door, her eyes black and her face a blank mask.

"Red?" he called cautiously.

"Stay out of my way, vampire," she advised.

Spike blinked. The only time she'd even come close to sounding like that was 
after Buffy had gone all catatonic and she took charge. He decided not to push 
her. But there was still the matter of the blood. And he took one step into the 
bedroom that had been Joyce's and knew. "No," he whispered. "Please, God, no."

Tara was dead of course. He could sense it, and the smell of blood (so much of 
it) was about driving him crazy. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad, and yet he 
refused to do that to her. Spike ran a hand over his face, surprised at the 
wetness he found there. He hadn't even realized he'd been crying.

He would have to do something, call the ambulance, maybe. And then he heard the 
sirens, knowing somehow that they were for Buffy. From the place in the room 
that was safest from the sun he could still see out the bedroom window. Xander 
hovering over the Slayer's still form, the paramedics beginning to arrive. He 
had no way to get their attention, not from the bedroom, and not mid-morning. 
So he picked up the phone and dialed 911. "This is William, from 1630 Revello," 
he said, glancing back at Tara's still form yet again. "We need another 
ambulance. There was a stray shot."

---------------------------------