Title: Detour Author: kindred Disclaimer: The BtVS characters are the property of Joss Whedon and his associates. Rating: NC-17 Feedback: Yes Summary: Future fic. Vengeance, memory and the course of true love. 9. The arrival of Buffy's period forced her to stay away from Spike for a time. Giles looked in on him periodically and delivered blood but Spike remained unmoved and unresponsive, neither acknowledging Giles' brief appearances nor Buffy's absence. When she did return, Buffy sat quietly doing some paper work on her knees. It was mindless busy work and was soon completed. Buffy shuffled her papers further, pantomiming being occupied in order to remain. She wrote out a grocery list and started a letter to Dawn that turned into a page of doodles, all the while stealing glances at Spike. He had not spoken a word since she told him about Drusilla. It had been twelve days. Spike lay prostrate facing the wall. He made no sounds. He never registered the blood he was given, but the next day the containers were always empty. He never stirred even if Buffy was present. It was an untenable situation. Slayer resolve came into play as Buffy struggled to control her emotions. She knew he abhorred pity most of all and would certainly think of any emotion on her part as pity. However desperately she wanted to console him, Buffy knew she could not. She could barely last an hour alone with him in that interminable silence, but Buffy held her tongue. She would be silent. * Again he wandered. Each direction felt familiar although the locations differed: a forest path, the narrow medieval streets of an eastern European city, the corridors of a deserted castle, the hallways of a school. Spike followed the trail pushing himself beyond the boundaries of exhaustion. Occasionally he would catch sight of a wisp of red satin or the distant echo of an ominous giggle. That stimulus only urged him onward. In his mind a voice lulled: "I'll find you, I'll find you." Spike ran through rain soaked back alleys, propelling himself up and over a chain link fence, and then through a dark underground cavern lit by torches until his legs gave out from under him. Suddenly, she was there among the shadows. Soft fingertips traced the side of his haggard face. Drusilla. Loving arms enveloped his exhausted body. Drusilla. He fluttered his eyelids in an attempt to get his eyes to focus. A curtain of hair touched his face and that soothing voice calmed his weary mind again. "I told you I'd find you." Sweet warm lips pressed against his forehead. "I'll always find you." Spike opened his eyes in wonder to the beautiful face before him. "Always." He woke with the angelic vision of the Slayer still in his eyes. Spike blinked the confounding and traitorous images from his mind and sat up against the unyielding wall. What was wrong with him? He should be dreaming about Drusilla and not the bloody slayer. Unfortunately, his mind refused to cooperate. * "This is ridiculous, Giles. He's lying in there on the floor. He needs a bed, a shower, and a change of clothes." Buffy paced near the rear of the Magic Box, voicing her frustration. "He's dusty for crying out loud! That place is worse than his crypt ever was." Giles looked up from his book over the top of his glasses. "It was never meant as more than a temporary holding cell, Buffy." "Can you rough in a shower?" Giles pursed his lips in reaction to her serious request. "Buffy, if you must, there's a hose hook up in the hallway next to the washroom." It sounded like a perfectly reasonable solution to Giles. "Giles, I'm not going to hose Spike down. That's just wrong." "He's hardly suffering for a lack of hygiene, Buffy." Okay, technically that was true but Spike wasn't an ordinary vampire. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Giles. I know Spike. He would want to be clean. He would want a change of clothes. I think he's actually growing a beard!" Spike had extremely resistant beard growth, but his chin was becoming noticeably fuzzy. There was also a persistent eau de staleness that clung to the walls of the room. It was starting to make Buffy's skin crawl. Giles put his book down. "Buffy, clearly there are more pressing issues here than comfort. Your safety is my paramount concern and I'd rather you didn't spend so much time with him." "He's in chains, Giles, what's he going to do?" "I don't know and neither do you, that's the problem. He's unpredictable...he could turn feral at a moment's notice." Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. "In case it's slipped your notice Giles, Mr. Fun hasn't drooled at us for a while now. I know Spike will feel better if he could clean up." Giles arched an eyebrow at her. "Okay, mostly I'll feel better. Giles, I need to do this. It's important." "What do you propose?" * When the door opened again Buffy entered with two pails of warm water and some bathing accessories. Giles entered with an almost theatrical flourish, with a crossbow in one hand and an ornate cross in the other. Buffy was certain that wasn't necessary, but Giles insisted. Buffy set down the pails and a roll of towels containing some bathing necessities. The sight before her was encouraging. Spike sat impassively against the wall, wondering what brought on this burst of generosity. Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked at Spike in question. He raised his wrists and tinkled the chains in reply. Buffy produced a key and stepped forward. "Buffy," Giles spoke up with alarm. He was having second thoughts about the plan already. There had been no mention of removing the chains. "Giles, what are we going to do? He can't put on clean clothes all chained up." It disturbed Buffy to see Spike in chains and she wanted them off for good. Once Willow put up wards around the cell to prevent Spike's escape the chains seemed redundant and cruel. She was a slayer after all and fully capable of defending herself or Giles if that was required. "Besides, he's not an animal." Those words piqued Spike's interest, that and the earnest manner in which the Slayer spoke them. "You don't know what he is in this state, Buffy." Giles maintained an ominous glare at Spike. "I know he'd want to be clean." "Just toss the key then and step back." Arguing at this point wasn't going to get them anywhere. Buffy did what Giles requested and tossed the keys to Spike. She no longer felt fear in Spike's presence. She felt compassion for his loss and for his feelings, despite the fact that Drusilla and her slug like accomplice had maliciously carved them into his mind. Spike was hurting and Buffy had to find some way to help him. Even though Spike appeared somber and subdued, Buffy knew he was impulsive and perfectly capable of lashing out and seeking vengeance. Spike kept his eyes on Giles while he slowly unclasped the manacles at his wrists and ankles. A bit of a clean up sounded pretty inviting at this point. Buffy turned to leave, wanting to give Spike some privacy. Giles followed her closely, backing out of the room while his weapon stayed trained on Spike. Once at the door, Giles pulled the chair out with him and shut the door securely. Instead of a snarling growl at the door as Giles predicted, they heard some faint sounds of water splashing and the distinct musical hum from the throat of the vampire. After twenty minutes Buffy prepared to reenter the room. "Get away from the door, we have weapons." Giles' voice was stern and calm. He placed his hand on the door handle and a deadly expression on his face in readiness. The vampire would not catch him off guard for even a fraction of a second. It was all a bit too much for Buffy. "Giles, you don't have to threaten him," she scolded in a harsh whisper. "And you do have the safety activated on that thing, right?" She stared at the crossbow. She was in no mood for any macho exhibitionism. Giles looked at her with disdain and hissed a whisper. "I most certainly do not. Need I remind you, Buffy, that he is a killer. He has voiced his intent to harm you on numerous occasions and if he attempts to make good on those threats or escape, I shall stop him. Let's be clear about that." Macho exhibitionism was a stubborn opponent. "Why do you even need a crossbow in the first place? We went over this," Buffy mouthed the rest of her sentence, "staking is out." She glared her disapproval at Giles. "I can hear you two talking," Spike spoke with weighted impatience. "Do I get some clean clothes or what?" Who was he dealing with anyway? The two Stooges? Giles opened the door slowly and entered, aiming the crossbow at Spike. He stood across the room with a towel slung low around his waist and his hands at his hips. "You two are a pair. Look, I'm not going to go all frothy on you. I'm not Old Yeller." Spike's tone was neutral, yet derisive. He stared with ridicule at Giles' exaggerated gait and rigid handling of the weapon. "It's a wonder she puts up with you, Watcher. You really go in for the melodrama, don't you? I can see how that might grate on a person." Buffy pressed her lips together to squelch a guffaw. "Be a love, Watcher," Spike adopted a dismissive air, "leave us alone, would you? I need a word with your girl here." Spike bent down, grabbed a tube of hair sculpting cream and squeezed a small blob onto his hand. He then worked it through his damp hair. "I hardly think that's likely to happen." Giles' tone sharpened with suspicion. "Giles, it's okay. I've got a stake. I'll be okay." "Buffy, this is inadvisable in the extreme." "Run along now, there's a dear." Spike made a dismissive shooing gesture with his fingers. "Buffy--" "Spike told me once of a vampire The Master kept in a box, Giles, still conscious after a year of not feeding. It was a...how did you put it again? A dust skeleton but not dust. Remember that...love?" Buffy's tone was chilly. Spike stared at her with disbelief as a shudder tickled down his spine. He was already in a box and had some ambition of leaving it and not becoming a conscious, evaporating cadaver. His head tilted as he looked at the Slayer. Spike swallowed heavily. That was one of his most disturbing memories and she knew it. If he told her that... "Trust me to trust myself, Giles." Giles nodded curtly, flashed a narrow eyed gaze of suspicion at Spike, and left the room. tbc...