Disillusioned
Summary: What does a pissed off
vamp do when he's dragged to the Hellmouth when he'd rather be swanning
around Europe? Why, he gets inventive in order to have fun with the
Slayer of course.
Rating: I'll go for R at this
time. Though knowing me, a change is possible.
Disclaimer: These characters
belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I have merely manipulated his
creation to make myself and hopefully you happy. I gain nothing but
satisfaction mentally.
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Chapter Eight
It was wrong. No matter which way he twisted around the events that had
dumped him on his ass, he couldn't make it look anything but horribly
hideously wrong. But then, any occasion that had Spike dragging around
its edges was enough to tip it toward bad right from the start.
He didn't have a clue what had happened. One minute he was paving his
way into the Slayer's life—into Buffy's life—looking eagerly down the
track of his redemption, when along came Spike with a cock and bull
story that just happened to be his own existence. Well, as confused as
he was, Angel had had enough. It wasn't fair—he was the one with the
soul. He was the one who had allowed himself to fall so low through his
certainty of damnation and guilt. Why did Spike get to walk in and
claim everything Angel had been moving toward, all with a smile on his
face and a fake soul in his flashy corpse?
Well, it stopped now. Stopped before the bleached pain-in-the-ass
managed to snack on Buffy and bring an apocalypse down about their
heads. As if there wasn't enough to be worried about with The Master
trying to retrieve power and importance, now Spike had to come and
complicate things even more. And again, Buffy. How had he managed to
get to her, anyway?
He frowned, his brain tossing around the animosity and irritation he
felt toward his grandchilde, focusing on how perplexed and frustrated
he was that his plan had been interfered with. He had no choice but to
get back on track, to reclaim his story from Spike and then spit in the
ingrate's dust.
He was at a loss how to do it. Buffy was obviously already half
enamoured with the hyperactive idiot. It wasn't like Angel was so blind
he missed the dismissive glance she'd sent his way as she was half
dragged out of the crypt. He'd built up the legend of this Slayer in
his head so high that to see her gullible and trusting of a soulless
vampire was a little too much for him to cope with. He didn't quite
know how to protect her from the mess she'd gotten herself into. His
only real option was to expose Spike for the lying, despicable fraud he
was.
Angel wouldn't even consider the possibility that Spike could have a
soul. He'd struggled with the pain and anguish being forced into a
conscience entailed, and he'd spent a hundred years paying the price of
a century and a half of evil depravity. He was unique and no way was
Spike going to come along and steal his truth, his life, and his girl.
No way in hell.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
It was the fifth day in a row that Jesse had turned up all but stoned.
His skin was a waxen shade of sick, he shook, and his eyes were twitchy
and unfocused. He'd become almost completely uncommunicative—even
catatonic on occasions—and Willow, Xander and Buffy were just about
freaked right out of their minds.
Xander tried to draw him out with jokes, failing miserably when the
smiles Jesse rewarded them with were sly and sinister. Willow's
attempts were with books, and his monosyllabic responses were enough to
almost drive her round the bend. Buffy tried activity, hoping that if
he came running with her, he'd either pick up the pace or collapse at
her feet, thus making medical intervention necessary. He never showed
up.
The big secret was still very much that: a big secret. Xander was
jittery every time it looked like he needed to say something about the
evil predators of the night, but chickened out before the words could
escape his throat. The three teens shared worried looks, wondering why
Jesse now turned to life altering drugs when he'd just survived an
experience many didn't get to come back from. Buffy tried to stay out
of much of it, sitting and doing little more than adding her silent
worries about the mental state of her new friend to the pot. They were
at a loss of what to do, his paleness and decreasing health frightening
Willow into finally reporting it to Giles during one of their secret
Jesseless meetings.
"He's pale and unresponsive, you say? Perhaps he is iron deficient
after the attack and it has kept his energy reserves low. Also, it is
possible that such a brush with death, no matter how confusing the
actual brush might have been, would do something by way of frightening
the poor boy into questioning his mortality."
Buffy considered. The first thing she had done when she noticed his
pallor was check his neck. Other than the healing first bite, there was
nothing there to indicate that he'd been the victim once more of an
unexplainable attack. So, lack of iron could work. He had lost a lot of
blood so it really was possible.
It was his lack of friendly banter and Xander-like sucky humour that
really told her there was something wrong.
"Even if he's just tired, he wouldn't have a complete personality
change. And he watches us. When he thinks we won't notice, he stares at
each of us." Buffy stopped and shuddered, wrapping her arms around her
suddenly cold self. "It's kinda like he's taking notes."
Giles dismissed their concerns with little interest, much preferring to
go on to discuss any leads Buffy may have retrieved in regards the
Master and his possible plans for escaping the Hellmouth.
There were none. "Sorry, Giles. Every vamp we come across is much more
into the fighty and fangy than the talky. But next time I'll let one
get extra special close just so I can try and get him to tell me
something The Master would dust him for as soon as he got home." Her
sarcasm was obviously lost on the Watcher as he mumbled about time and
the lack of it remaining to sort it all out.
The frustration Giles felt was obvious as he twisted his glasses and
shelved a book. "I can't abide all this waiting. Something disastrous
is about to happen and we have absolutely no idea what it could be."
"I might be able to help you with that."
The man was a stranger to most, so his unexpected entrance made three
of the library's occupants gasp. He stood in the back of the room,
lurking in the shadows of the stacks as he had the undivided attention
of four sets of eyes. They stared transfixed...
Until Buffy rolled hers eyes and huffily introduced him. "What are you
doing here, Angel?" Her voice betrayed boredom, her expression too
relaxed for a slayer around a vampire. Yet he took it as a good sign,
believing she thought him safe and not the vicious monster Spike had
treated him as inside the mausoleum. It was just more proof that the
moron was going to go down, as soon as Angel managed to clear up the
misunderstandings.
Still, it was a formidable audience. He cleared his throat and slowly
made his way down the stairs, a book jammed under one arm. "I came to
warn you." He brandished the ancient title with a flourish to Giles.
"The Pergumum Codex. I thought it might be useful."
The researcher in Giles rejoiced at such a treasure, his hands
smoothing the cover down respectfully. "Wherever did you get this? I
thought it lost for good as it was last seen in the fifteenth century."
The Watcher didn't even look up, allowing his hands to touch such
essential and old information before his eyes could unravel the truth
of the tales.
"Who cares where he got it, Giles? The issue right now is, why is there
a vampire in our school trying to help me. I was kinda under the
impression the handy dandy slayer's guide was all about the killing of
the evil undead. Spike, I can understand the not dusting, what with the
soul and all. But you, you're another story."
Giles grew white with alarm, taking an urgent step closer to Buffy as
the truth of their interloper was revealed. He rather thought she could
have dropped that little gem a bit sooner.
A squeak of impatience was intriguing to them all, however, as the one
called Angel almost stomped his foot before sitting dejectedly in a
chair at the research table.
"Look, you've got it all wrong. I have no idea how Spike made you fall
for it, but you've got the wrong souled vampire. As in, I am, he's not."
Buffy laughed, the sound happy and carefree before seguing seamlessly
into pissed off.
"You don't get to go around telling lies about my boyfriend." She
ignored the gasps of surprise around her. Just because she hadn't told
Spike she thought he was her boyfriend, didn't make it any less so.
There had been kissage, and hand-holding. It put them on a step above
friends and Buffy was more than happy to call it as she wanted it.
"I'm not lying—"
"Shut up. You say you have a soul, and sure, you've been kind of
helpful in a really not kind of way. You may have given me the hints,
but it's Spike that's been by my side with the actual action behind the
information. He's the one that's been watching my back and helping me
with the hands on fighting. So, how can you seriously sit there and
tell me he hasn't got a soul?"
A flash of her conversation with Willow made Buffy stop—though to all
it appeared she was finished anyway. While Angel sat spluttering, Buffy
became lost in thought. How could she prove either way if one of them
was lying? She really didn't think Spike was. He'd been around her for
long enough now for her to have known if he had some sinister
motivation for getting close to her. And if he did have some kind of
plan—how did he intend to carry it out while he was kissing and dancing
with her?
"Spike is nothing but a vicious murdering monster. He has no soul. He's
been killing as recently as last week—" he stalled at Buffy's look of
thunder, his own certainty dwindling a little without concrete proof.
"—I'm willing to bet," he fudged, standing back up and straightening
until his height had Buffy dwarfed.
She wasn't having any of his intimidation tactics. She kicked him hard
in the knee and smirked at his look of agony before pushing his now
slumped form back into his chair.
"I've seen Spike drink blood from a cup. If he was feeding I'd know. So
good try, but no biscuit."
Giles, Willow and Xander looked at her askance. Buffy shrugged before
explaining; "I heard it on a show once. It sounded much cooler when
someone else said it though."
"Look, I know you don't want to hear it, but Spike is dangerous. If you
don't start working that out soon you'll be dead." Angel cringed at the
look of black fury that passed over and settled on Buffy's face,
realising that standing back up might have been a bit presumptuous on
his part and quickly slumping back into the chair.
"Okay," she said at last, said through gritted teeth and an urge for
decapitation. "Just say what you're telling us is true and Spike
doesn't have a soul. Why would he be doing this? Why would he be
working with me to fight evil and The Master?"
The obvious answer was just on the tip of his tongue, but Angel felt
the possibility of a pop to his nose could be very high if he dared
suggest Spike was planning to kill her. And then the reality of it
struck him. Spike didn't do plans—not well at any rate. Spike screwed
them up on a fairly predictable basis. So if he'd entered this lie with
the purpose to off the Slayer, he would have broken down now and
attacked her. The alternative possibilities made Angel feel nauseous so
he ignored them as best he could.
"I don't know." He couldn't do or say anything more to stop him looking
as stupid as he already did. "I just know he is a soulless demon and if
you aren't careful something bad will happen."
Buffy seemed satisfied with his answer, her rigid stance relaxing
slightly as she turned her back on him and looked at her friends. Some
kind of decision was reached and she turned back to their unwelcome
visitor, studying him with the same degree of seriousness she often
contemplated the demon goo on her designer shoes. "Look, I promise I
won't take any risks. I'll stay on guard around him, but in my honest
opinion, you're wrong. And from where I'm standing, actions speak
louder than words, and Spike's actions so far shout so loud he's made
me deaf. Think about it."
And she stared at him so hard that he felt uncomfortable and left