TITLE: Body and Soul Trilogy - The Curse - Chapter 1
AUTHOR: Lysia
EMAIL: cricket818uk@wadnitt.fsnet.co.uk
FEEDBACK: Very much appreciated. Praise is encouraging, constructive
criticism is used to improve.
RATING: 12, for violence.
WARNING: Violence, angst. And possibly language. Light S/A comfort-
type romance.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of them, but I'll give them back to Joss
when I've finished with them.
SPOILERS: Set sometime after 'Forever'.
ARCHIVING: Here. Anywhere else, just ask.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guide to characters from FFL - Henry Carver is the
bloke who read the poem out at the party (appeared in 'Always Been
Bad'); Charles Hamilton is the other man at the party; Katharine
Millington-Parks is the woman with the funny hair-do who was with
them.

Chapter 1 - Sunnydale, Present Day

Spike staggered out of the gents having thrown up nine bottles of
something alcoholic which he couldn't remember the name of. He was
not happy. The water he had rinsed his face with had dribbled down
his shirt making him look as though he had a tendency to drool, his
head hurt like hell, his legs were shaking and he knew he now stank
to high heaven. If he could have seen a reflection in the mirror he
knew he would have seen a deathly pale man with dark circles under
his eyes, a face far too thin and his carefully applied mascara
smudged all over, making him look as though he was some sissy girl
who'd just been crying. He surreptitiously wiped at the smudged make-
up he knew must be there.

He glanced around the Bronze, waiting for the rapidly moving blur in
front of his eyes to focus and become a swirling mass of teenage
bodies. Carefully, he began to make his way across the crowded dance
floor to the bar, which he could see floating mockingly in the
distance. He swayed with each step, trying to compensate for the
frequent tilting of the room.

He was very hung over now. The nice effects of the alcohol had gone
when said alcohol had left his stomach and now he didn't feel like
drinking any more. So much for drowning his sorrows in booze - he'd
just ended up nearly drowning himself in a toilet bowl. He collapsed
on a comfy sofa and waited for the ache in his head to go away. A
waitress passed him and he quickly waved a hand to get her attention.

"Oi, 'scuse me luv!" She looked at him with a concerned
expression. "Could I have a strong coffee please?"

The waitress disappeared to get his coffee while he rearranged
himself on the sofa into a less sprawled position. Soon he was
presented with a steaming hot cup of instant brown gloop masquerading
as coffee. He sighed and forced himself to drink it. Spike wasn't a
huge fan of coffee at the best of times, and this stuff wasn't likely
to convert him.

"Well, well, who have we here?" a familiar voice announced from over
Spike's shoulder.

Spike didn't even look up as the equally familiar short blonde source
of said voice sat herself down on the sofa beside him. "Hello
Slayer." Under normal circumstances he would be thrilled to have
Buffy sitting so close, but she looked a little too vindictive and
cross for the likings of his hangover. He knew she wanted him to
leave and in the mood she was in she probably wouldn't be too tactful
in her stamping on his poor little broken heart. Cripes, she'd even
brought her friends along for a good round of Spike-bashing.

The rest of the Scooby-gang made themselves comfortable on the
surrounding stools and chairs.

"Great, just what I wanted," Spike groaned, taking another sip of
coffee.

"Aww did Spikey have a little too much to drink?" Xander smirked,
noticing the coffee.

"Get lost, brat," Spike snapped, too tired to think up any better
retort.

"So," Buffy announced with a distasteful frown. "This is what chipped
vampires do with their spare time when they're not moping about being
harmless or lurking around my house?"

"What is this - 'insult the vampire' night?" Spike demanded. Luckily
his hangover was already a little better. Thank heavens for vampire
healing powers which obviously worked on all kinds of painful
ailments. "Everybody have a quick laugh at your local undead?"

"Well it is kinda un-scary," Willow informed him. "For someone who
tries to put out the frightening vibe this looks..."

"Go on, say it," Spike snarled. "Whatever it is - sad, pathetic,
loser. Yeah, I know."

"Is this what you do when all the girls reject you?" Xander asked.

Spike glared at him. "That was below the belt, mate," he growled.

"He's right you know," Buffy added, attracting Spike's immediate
attention. "You tell us all you're the Big Bad, tough evil vampire,
yet here you are nursing a hangover like a Big Loser. You don't deal
with rejection well do you?"

Spike glared at her. "I'm fine!" he lied. "I was just getting drunk
because it's fun. I don't care about what you said. I can take it.
And I'm not here looking for you, I'm here to find somebody else. You
know, get over it. Find somebody who knows when they're onto a good
thing."

Realising the others were staring at him he quickly finished his
coffee - ow, hot! - and got to his feet. His legs were still a bit
shaky but he did his very best to walk in a straight line as he left
the Scooby gang and tried to disappear into the rather meagre crowed.
It was getting late and a lot of people had already left for home.
Still aware of several eyes burning holes in the back of his head, he
sauntered over to a girl who was loitering by a table, alone and
scanning the crowd.

"Hi," he purred in her ear.

She turned, not even surprised and faced him. "Hi. Who are you?"

Oh good, interest! Now to turn on the charm. This'll show Buffy how
pathetic he was. "I'm Spike. And you would be?"

Her eyes flickered as she looked him up and down. "Louisa."

Spike couldn't help but flinch a little as she stared at him,
blatantly ogling his body. He wasn't used to such unabashed
flirtation. "So... what are you doing here all by yourself?"

Louisa sighed. "I'm waiting for my friend Robbie, but he's not turned
up yet. I suppose that's his loss and your gain."

Spike's jaw dropped. That was surprisingly easy. Soon he found Louisa
linking arms with him and leading him out of the Bronze, past the
Scooby gang. He made sure to grin at them over his shoulder as he was
practically dragged past them by the very enthusiastic Louisa.

"So where are we going?" Spike asked as he was led rather quickly
down the alleyway that cut through between the neighbouring buildings
to the main road. "Your place? Um, I would offer to go back to mine
but it's really..." A crypt with a big hole underneath. "... A mess."

He yelped in surprise as Louisa grabbed him by the arms and forced
him against the wall. It was safe to say he wasn't expecting
this. "Blimey, you're eager," he spluttered as she kissed him and
began licking his neck.

"Sorry," Louisa murmured, nibbling on his collar bone. "Can't wait."

"That's okay," Spike managed to reply, a little shaky. "A little bit
of gusto is always good."

Perhaps it was the drink or the Slayer, but he hadn't been feeling
too brilliant all evening and having Lousia attacking him like this
wasn't making him feel much better. He was worried in case he was
going to have to ask her to pause for a moment.

He was saved from embarrassment when a man emerged from the Bronze
and approached them. Louisa looked up from Spike's shoulder and
greeted the man cheerfully, ignoring Spike.

"Hi, Robbie," she squealed enthusiastically. "Where have you been?"

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. Great! He hoped Robbie wasn't the
violent possessive sort, because if Louisa thought she was going to
have two blokes fighting for her attentions then she could guess
again.

Robbie shrugged as he sauntered up to Louisa, completely ignoring
Spike. "Picked up some skinny little chick on the way here. Didn't do
much for me, so I came looking for you."

"Oh, poor Robbie," Louisa cooed, indulging in a sickeningly noisy
tongue sandwich right in front of Spike, who looked away in disgust.
Perhaps it was his Victorian attitudes, or his own experiences of
being cheated on, but he hated people who were unfaithful with a
fiery vengeance Anya would have been proud of. He couldn't understand
people who let their partners get away with it either, as these two
did.

Right now though, he was also pissed off that his little 'get over
Buffy' sex-capade with Louisa hadn't worked. Normally he would have
ripped the silly bint's throat out for leading him on like that and
then running back to her boyfriend, but as things stood now all he
could do was go and sulk. He turned away and tried to squeeze past
the couple.

Louisa grabbed his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

Spike sighed. He really didn't feel like carrying on with this little
affair. "Listen luv," he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he was forcibly
turned around. "Much as I've enjoyed this little sesh, I don't
really..." He paused when he found himself looking at two fellow
vampires. His jaw dropped but before he could say anything the duo
lunged at him, sinking their fangs into either side of his neck. The
pain made him vamp out immediately and, furious, he shoved the two
vampires away from him.

"Whoa, he ain't human!" Robbie exclaimed, almost laughing at the
mistake.

"Sorry," Louisa said, unable to suppress a snicker.

"And you bloody well should be!" Spike spat viciously, furious with
them. "How could you mistake me for a human?"

"I could say the same thing," Louisa shot back with a belittling
glare.

"I was pissed!" Spike protested, indignant. "You know alcohol mucks
up the senses, but normally we're supposed to be able to sense our
own kind! What's your excuse?"

Louisa shrugged innocently. "Well, you just didn't look much like a
typical vampire, sitting around letting a load of teenaged humans
insult you."

Spike cringed, ashamed that a fellow demon had seen that happen. He
should kill these two. "I've got one of them government chips in my
head," he snarled, not quite sure why he felt the need to defend
himself.

Robbie laughed out loud. "Oh man, you got chipped?" he sneered. "Boy,
that sucks. I would feel sorry for you, but hey, we have too much of
a laugh about you guys to even care. So what they do to you? Heard
they cut you up and do experiments and stuff. Did it hurt? Guess
you'd have to be a real dumb-ass to let those guys get hold of you."

Spike glared at the youth. For the first time since the implant, he
wished the Initiative was still in operation so he could turn this
brat over to them as a lab rat. He couldn't believe the kid was
talking to him like this. These two couldn't be more than a year
turned and they were bad-mouthing him. "Do you little shit-heads have
any idea who I am?" Blank faces; sneering contempt. "Spike," Spike
explained, putting a hand to his chest. "Come on, you must have heard
of me. Fourth generation of the Order of Aurelius, Scourge of Europe,
killer of two Slayers, any of this ringing little bells?"

Louisa shrugged disdainfully. "Don't care who you were before you got
neutered." She emphasised the final word with a rather intimidating
glance towards Spike's crotch. "You're just a loser who lets humans
trample all over him and tries to get laid like any worthless mortal
guy who can't get a girlfriend." She snuggled up to Robbie, the two
of them sneering at Spike.

"Let's go, sweetie," Robbie purred at his girlfriend, and the two of
them disappeared off to the Bronze for yet another victim.

Spike was left standing in the alley, the bite marks on his neck
painful and swollen. He ran his hand over one gingerly, finding that
it had already stopped bleeding but was sore to the touch. He'd
probably be left with bruises this time tomorrow, and then he could
show them to Buffy and pass them off as love bites.

Miserable, he followed Louisa and Robbie up the alley back to the
Bronze, watching, slightly enviously as they walked off to find some
poor young thing to drain. Spike's stomach rumbled at the thought of
fresh blood and he was so busy watching the vampire couple survey the
crowds filing out of the Bronze, selecting their next victim, that he
didn't notice Buffy and her little gang of mates emerge until Buffy
had spotted Louisa with a guy other than Spike.

Spike cringed as Buffy looked pointedly at the couple, then glanced
at Spike questioningly.

"Um... yeah, I'll call you!" Spike blurted out, pretending to be
talking to the departing Louisa. "And I'll bring um... that girl along
for your brother."

Buffy shook her head, laughing, and walked off with her mates. He
gritted his teeth and flung his head back, trying to control his
shame and frustration. With a sigh, he headed back down the alley.
How could he have done something so pathetic? He shoved his hands in
his pockets and kicked at the stones, cans and other items littering
the pavement. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. Well,
okay, that was an over-statement, but if vampires could blush he'd
being doing just that.

As he strode off away from the club he didn't see the figure lurking
in the shadows, watching his every move.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike plodded into his crypt in a very bad mood. He was still fuming
over the thoroughly humiliating incident with the two other vampires
and the Slayer. His kind, he mused sadly, were not a compassionate
bunch unless in the same Order or gang. If they were they probably
would have overthrown Sunnydale long ago through team work and
strength in numbers.

No, Spike was left to wallow in his own helplessness while all the
other vamps had fun. And they all thought he was pathetic. That was a
revelation to Spike. He'd always thought that if they hadn't been
captured by the Initiative themselves they didn't know about the
chips and the experiments, but no, they were fully aware of the
cruelty that befell their fellow demons, and they all had a good
laugh about it.

"Rotten little shits," Spike snarled, slamming the crypt door behind
him. "Should've given 'em something to laugh about. Smashed their
bloody faces in. Teach 'em a little respect."

His rage, combined with the blood loss, had brought on a fierce
hunger. Spike's stomach rumbled distractingly, demanding food. Spike
obeyed, immediately heading for the fridge. It didn't actually work,
but it was air-tight and kept blood fresh for a day or so. Spike
tugged the fridge door open.

"Right," he announced, perusing the shelves with a thoughtful
eye. "What shall we have tonight? Bugger all..." He checked the freezer
compartment just in case. "... Or sweet FA." He sighed and slammed both
doors with an irritated growl. "Oh let's be greedy and have both."

Dejected, he flopped onto his ratty old armchair, resting his head
back. "Today cannot get any worse," he groaned. His stomach growled
again and insisted rather painfully that it wanted feeding and if
food wasn't supplied soon it was going to start doing it's rather
good impression of a kick in the gut. Spike clutched his belly and
whinged, trying to ignore the permanent hunger he seemed to feel
these days.

He was not a happy vampire. After the embarrassments of the evening
he was just about ready to crawl into the cellar of his crypt and
never come out. Plus the fact that he still had an unpleasant sense
of forboding that wouldn't go away - a sense that something bad was
going to happen to him.

As he sat there, nursing his hunger pains and worrying about that
niggling fear and unpleasant chill that wouldn't go away, he
overheard a scratching noise somewhere in the crypt. His alert
vampire senses indicated to him that is was coming from the lower
level, in the natural cavern he had discovered under his crypt when
the floor had given way. The hole in the ground was usually covered
by a stone slab so he wasn't likely to fall down it in a drunken
stupor. Like last time.

Now the slab had been removed and Spike noticed a faint light coming
from the cavern. Somebody had lit the candles and it wasn't him. He
hauled his weary body out of the chair and made his way over to the
pit.

"I know you're down there!" he sneered threateningly to whoever had
invaded his home. "And I'd better warn you I'm not in a good mood."
Determined to take his frustrations out on something, he leapt down
into the fit, landing neatly in a crouch on the concrete floor.

Several vampires looked up from the mess that used to be
Spike's 'cellar'. Spike surveyed the tip in horror. The sofa was
shredded, the collection of weapons had all but disappeared, the
table had been smashed and, much to Spike's embarrassment, they had
even located and trashed his Buffy shrine.

"You stupid mindless little bastards!" Spike bellowed, his bad mood
now escalating into full-blown fury. He grabbed a long-handled
halberd he kept behind the ladder, intent on running every single one
of the lousy demons through with it.

The vampires got to their feet, growling. They looked remarkably
unperturbed by Spike. Spike couldn't believe it. They dared to be
indifferent when faced with him? Yet more disrespectful fledges. "Do
you lot have any idea what you've gotten into?" Spike barked, hoping
that for just once he might be able to inspire just a tiny bit of
fear in someone. He jabbed at his own chest with a finger. "Pissed
off vamp here looking for something to kill, so you'd better shift
your arses out of here now or you can expect to get 'em kicked."

The vampires laughed at him quietly, then charged. In an instant
Spike leapt into action, twirling his halberd around a decapitating
two vamps before they got anywhere near him. He was not so lucky with
the third, who caught it and attempted to wrestle it out of his grip.
The vampires were stronger than he had expected and it took him a
while to shake his attacker off. As he adjusted his grip on the
halberd, another vamp struck him across the back of the head with a
bottle. He staggered, the world spinning around. Before he could get
his bearings again, he was shoved backwards painfully and violently
against the jagged rock wall of the cavern. The halberd was torn from
his grasp and a sharp kick to his knee sent him tumbling, yelping in
agony from the pain in his leg.

Spike hit the ground with a thud. He turned over quickly, and a good
thing he did too because his assailant had snapped a rung off the
ladder and was about to drive it through his heart. Spike kicked his
legs up and knocked the make-shift stake away. Shoving the now
unarmed wannabe-Slayer off him, he scrambled to his feet, hissing in
anger as several more vamps grabbed his arms and held him down.

He felt a pang of something - an unfamiliar and unpleasant emotion
which he realised, much to his shame, was fear. So this, he thought
to himself with distinct unease, is what a victim feels. It was not
an emotion he usually experienced, but a brief skirmish with what he
thought were fledgling minions on a looting spree was turning out to
be a very nasty and dangerous fight for his life against several
rather strong vampires, so he thought me had an excuse.

He watched with dread, still struggling to get loose, as the ladder
was pulled away from the wall and smashed to pieces, preventing his
escape. The vampire who had snatched his halberd away was about to
drive the blade through his throat.

However, as Spike was surprised to discover, fear could be a strong
motivator in battle. In a rush of adrenalin, Spike twisted away from
his attackers and raced towards the wall, intending to scale the dirt
bank if needs be. The armed vampire lunged at him, slitting his cheek
open. He blocked a second attack with the weapon and broke the long
handle. The metal blade fell to the floor and Spike took the
opportunity to drag himself up the dirt wall away from the vampires.

"This is really not a good day," he growled to himself, kicking his
foot loose of a grasping hand around his ankle. He hauled himself out
of the pit and up to the crypt, limping from a leg injury sustained
when he was knocked to the floor. He heard a scrambling noise behind
him and knew one of the demons was following him. With his leg
hurting as it was, he hadn't even made it to the door before his
pursuer had reached him. He turned quickly and warded off the
vampire's well-aimed attacks with the broken head of the halberd. He
didn't even have time to think up any decent quips or snidey comments
because - oh the shame of it! - he was having to put in every ounce
of effort and concentration into preventing this maniac vampire from
skewering him with the sodding blade. Such difficulty in battle was
not something he was accustomed to.

Desperately trying a new course of action, Spike kicked out at his
opponent's kneecaps, but their legs tangled, sending them both
tumbling onto the hard concrete floor. The vampire positioned the
metal point of the halberd head over Spike's throat and prepared to
drive it into the blonde's neck, but Spike made a grab for the
weapon, flipping the two of them over at the same time. He tugged the
halberd blade out of the vampire's grasp and aimed the broken wooden
end at his chest.

It was only then that he noticed the suddenly human face of the
vampire trapped beneath him. He smiled up at Spike, a sad yet at the
same time triumphant and chilling grin.

"So, you're going to kill me again, William."

Spike froze, staring at the familiar face of the man - vampire - as
he awaited his inevitable slaughter. Memories, and unpleasant ones at
that, were stirred in the back of Spike's mind and a name formed on
his lips. "Hamilton?"

This hesitation nearly got Spike into serious trouble. In that moment
it took him to recognise his former bully and victim, Hamilton - and
he was sure it was indeed he - brought his vampire face to the fore
and lunged, fangs bared, at Spike's throat. In a panic, Spike brought
the halberd head down and drove the wooden handle through his enemy's
chest. Hamilton turned to dust and Spike fell forward as the body
dissolved beneath him and he hissed in pain as he almost fell on the
blade, cutting his shoulder on the sharp point before he could catch
himself.

Still shocked at seeing Hamilton again, it took him a moment to
realise that the other vampires were now also crawling out of the
hole in the floor. Dropping the weapon that had slain Charles
Hamilton, Spike got to his feet, clutching his shoulder, and made a
break for it. He couldn't fight them all - they were too strong. Two
or three maybe, but not that many and definitely not while he was
injured.

It hurt with every step, but he was determined that he wasn't going
to end up dusted by his own kind. As he limped through the cemetery
he began to hiss, "Going to make it," with every spasm of pain in his
injured leg. He was running on it now and that didn't help at all,
but he had to get away. Risking a brief glance back, he saw his
pursuers slaloming between the larger headstones and leaping straight
over the small ones. Spike turned away and staggered out of the
cemetery and onto the street.

TBC