I
think maybe there's been some confusion about different
contracts. Way back in chapter 6 Spike managed to coerce
Travers' lawyers into sending the contract that was used
to trick him into keeping the eggs, to his LA hotel. Physically,
that contract is assumed to be in the possession of Wesley,
who was doing some research on it. Okay, Spike has since
found out that it rightfully belongs to Ronnie, whether
he admits to her that he has it or not remains to be seen.
We don't know whether any "magic" inherent to the contract
itself, if it ever had any, has been used up.
Contract No2, the one
causing problems at this stage of the story is a "contract"
in the mob sense of the word; the contract which has been
taken out on Spike's life. i.e. Travers hiring the Order
of Taraka to assassinate him. Hope this clears any confusion.
Chapter 18
Giles' sleep was troubled. He had killed
in the past, so he knew that wasn't the problem. Given the
same choice he would do so again. By his very existence,
Ben had been a danger to Buffy, so Giles had killed him.
It was simple. Ben's guilt or innocence, good and evil,
these were all just irrelevant abstract concepts. If a stranger
had to die to safeguard the life of his surrogate daughter
then Giles wouldn't hesitate. He could argue that it was
logic, that he'd done it because keeping Buffy alive or
preventing Glory's return helped the greater good. He could
say that, but it wouldn't be true. He'd done it because
he had a father's love for the child. The words Quentin
Travers had used when he fired him.
If he had to decide between Spike and Travers.
well, he certainly didn't love either of them. Logic didn't
help much either. Giles had no idea why Travers wanted Spike
dead. For all he knew Spike may deserve everything that
was coming to him. Although surely if that were the case
Travers could just make known whatever crimes the vampire
had committed and it would then be up to the slayer to dispense
justice in the form of a stake.
If he had to rate the two as to which was
more evil at that point in time, then they would probably
have been roughly on a par but maybe Quentin would have
had the edge.
Spike had the greater potential for good
if he could cope without the chip and continued to help
the slayer. However he also had the greater potential for
evil. If he failed to adapt to life without the chip and
his self-control broke, he could have become the scourge
of Europe again, or the whole damn world if he chose to.
On a good day, without the chip, Spike could walk straight
into any of the smaller cities in the world and set himself
up as master. The bigger cities might actually take some
work.
When it comes to past sins Spike certainly
had more to answer for.
Giles was sworn to protect humanity from
the forces of darkness and at the end of the day Travers
was human and Spike was a vampire.
Logic could be used to argue this any way
you wanted it to be, but other than wanting to do what's
best for Buffy, Giles didn't know what he wanted. So should
he be protecting her from Spike or letting Spike protect
her? God only knows. He could only hope that Buffy or one
of her friends came up with an alternative.
He still hadn't slept when the phone rang
at seven thirty. Olivia answered, but quickly passed the
phone to him. "Buffy," she informed him.
"Hello, Buffy. How are you?"
"Just peachy, Giles, Just peachy?"
"Is this to do with Spike?"
"Not really. It's Dawn. I've been trying
to contact you since this morning, but it was only when
Spike rang that I found out where to get in touch with you."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Giles, we need to find out how we can
tell if she has a soul."
"Oh dear lord."
Had he got as far as putting them on Giles
would have removed his glasses and cleaned them. As it was
he pinched the bridge of his nose. Apart from the fact he
hadn't been knocked unconscious lately, he could almost
believe he was back on the Hellmouth.
Buffy called a greeting to Anya as she
entered the shop, and then waited until she had finished
serving her customer before going over to speak to her.
"Hi, Anya. Has the shop been busy today?"
"Not really, but I did sell one large icon
at a large mark-up on trade price so I should do quite well
over all."
"Oh, good, I think. Anya are you sure you're
okay with us holding the Scooby meeting here tonight?"
Anya nipped fretfully at her lower lip,
but nodded. "I still look after all Giles books and things,
so you and the. others need to be able to use them. I'll
just stay with the money out of the way. I can do research
tomorrow if there are any quiet periods."
"Xander might not come. Dawn and I had
a bit of an argument with him yesterday, which is kind of
why we're having the meeting, but I'll explain later or
Dawn will. No one's spoken to him since; I got his machine
when I rang. I don't know whether it makes it better or
worse for you if he doesn't come."
"I don't know either." Anya's tone seemed
to suggest that when things were this bad, there was no
worse.
"I see you got a visit from the flower
fairy." Buffy nodded in the direction of the research table
where Anya's roses had pride of place.
"That's another myth, there are no flower
fairies. A deliveryman brought them from the florist's."
"Ohhh-kay. If Xander does come tonight
though, I think it might be as well if I move them out of
his way just the same. I think Spike's not one of his favourite
people right now. or ever, actually."
"No, he's not." Anya shrugged, expressing
her lack of comprehension.
"There's something to do with Spike I need
to talk to you about. I have this idea. which, with a bit
of help, might become a plan." Buffy told Anya about the
course of action she'd been contemplating, getting Anya's
assessment of the situation before she went too far in her
planning. Once the two had hashed out some details Buffy
headed for the training room and Anya set about making some
notes.
Spike prowled around his hotel room.
He was barely managing to hold together. The only reason
the room furnishings weren't in pieces was his fear of being
ejected into the sunlight. The bottle of scotch he and Giles
had bought two nights previously had barely outlasted Giles'
last visit. Now a sea of miniature bottles surrounded the
waste-paper bin and three had even landed within its confines.
He had made light of his argument with
Giles when he had spoken to Buffy on the phone, or perhaps
it was more correct to say that being on the phone with
Buffy had distracted him from how he felt about the argument.
The morning had dawned clear and bright and being confined
to a smallish room for the duration of the daylight hours
was giving him too much time to think. He had tried to read.
He had picked up a paperback copy of the works of Oscar
Wilde. He stopped reading just after he got to the point
where the villainess in "An Ideal Husband" remarked "Morality
is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally
dislike." Instead of falling asleep with the sunrise he
was just beginning his solo drinking in earnest.
Frustration at the watcher's superior attitude
boiled through the blood in his veins filling his cold body
with an illusion of heat. Frustration also, at himself and
at the slayer for what she had made him. Free at last of
the chip he should have been once more in a world where
no one dare look down on him. Before the chip, even his
grandsire had finally given him the grudging respect of
a worthy opponent, be it hidden beneath threats and vampiric
posturing. Only when Buffy had had him confined to a wheel
chair, did Angelus dare revert to treating him to the scorn
derision and torture that were the normal lot of a fledgling
or minion.
Before the slayer, Dru had shown him affection
and such devotion as her feeble state would allow. For twelve
decades they had known happiness together, or such a dream
of happiness that he had been fooled, never having known
the real thing. In retrospect, it seemed to him as if those
years had been spent in a state of euphoria induced by passion,
violence and unstoppable adrenaline. Buffy had shattered
that illusion of happiness. She let loose the demon in leather
pants that was Angelus. She did so at a time when injuries
received at her hands prevented him from defending his claim
to his dark goddess. Then when his feelings toward his queen
had been tainted by her preference for "daddy" the bitch
had stolen into his very being and planted the seeds of
this corruption that was killing him.
For a century, fear and respect had been
no more than his due him as one of an elite few to kill
a slayer, and when he had killed his second he had become
paramount within that elite group. Human or demon, any who
disrespected him had died. Thanks to her, he was treated
as less than a man by a bloody librarian who was so far
behind the times it had taken a new millennium for him to
abandon his tweed suits that must have last been fashionable
around the time he'd been born.
Every moment of humiliation and emotional
pain he had endured over the last half-decade had her as
the cause, direct or indirect. Picking up the photograph
of the Summers women from the spot on top of the bedside
cabinet that had been its home whenever he was in the room,
he pulled out his lighter and lit the bottom corner. Tilting
the image this way and that until the flames threatened
to scorch his trembling fingers, he dropped the remains
into his already overflowing ashtray.
Stripping off quickly, dropping the expensive
clothes wherever they fell, he walked into the shower and
began to wash the dye from his hair. He had deliberately
chosen a temporary colorant and for the first few rinses
the water came away brown. Still, he rinsed and rinsed at
it. When he had used up the travel size bottle of shampoo
the hotel supplied, he started using the shower gel and
finally the miniature bar of soap. Unable to see the effect
of his ablutions, he scrubbed and rinsed obsessively. He'd
had enough of hiding. If anyone wanted to come get themselves
a piece then they'd better be a damn good shot with a crossbow,
because if they came closer than that he'd teach them a
lesson they'd never forget.
He pulled on jeans and a black T-shirt
followed by socks and boots. He put gel in his hair and
combed it through, feeling to make sure that his hair's
natural curls had been tamed into his usual style. Grabbing
one of the hooded tops he had bought he draped it over his
arm so that a single layer of material covered his hand.
He moved over beside the window and thrust his arm through
between the curtain and the glass, standing there for several
minutes before he was content that the material offered
sufficient protection from the sun. He pulled on the top,
zipping it tightly and pulling the hood as far forward as
he could. He grabbed his wallet and pushed it into the front
pocket of his jeans and then picked up his phone unplugging
it from the charger. His hand was three quarters of the
way to his pocket when it reversed direction smashing the
front face of the phone into the corner of the desk, before
letting it drop to the floor.
Pulling his suit jacket from the floor
he reached into the pocket and removed the piece of paper
with Quentin Travers address on. He pulled all the clothes
from his duffle bag before throwing in the scrap of paper
and zipping it shut. When he picked it up it made a heavy
metallic clinking sound. He slung it over his shoulder and
left the room. Head down, hands in his pockets he headed
out looking for trouble.
Giles had already been feeling guilty by
the end of his conversation with Buffy. The slayer had been
inquisitive, and finally challenging, trying to find out
what Spike and her Watcher had argued about.
"Do you know what he told me to tell you
last time I saw him? He gave me little messages for everyone.
I didn't pass them on, because I knew if he made it through
everything, he would be embarrassed about showing his feelings.
Do you know what he told me to say to you? He said, "Tell
the old Watcher it might not have been too bad if I had
been Randy, except that I'd never have forgiven him for
the name." Do you have any idea what that means in Spike-speak.
That means he would have liked you to have been his father.
That means that he respects you. If it doesn't actually
mean he already loves you then it means that he at least
thought it might be possible some day. Is it getting through
to you what your opinion means to this man?
He's having a hard time. I've been an absolute
bitch, so much so that I'm only just realising how badly
he gets treated by all of us in general. He has two friends
in this entire world as far as I can tell; maybe three but
I've never met the third one. His best friend is my kid
sister and I've been pretty much keeping the pair of them
apart until very recently. His only other friend in Sunnydale
is this weird looking floppy eared demon that he plays poker
with. And let me tell you the demon's nicer than most of
us have been. Spike's changed and if we don't take that
on board and give him the support he needs to keep changing
for the better, we'll have ourselves to blame if he does
go back to his old ways. Whatever you two argued about I
want it sorted out. I love you and. well, I miss him. We'll
have to get him back before I'll commit myself any further,
but I need you two to be okay together."
Then he'd had a visitor at work. Veronica
Macallister had searched out his office in the lower reaches
of the Council headquarters. She'd passed over a thick manila
folder to him.
"Will asked me to see that you received
a copy of this. My thesis is at the front, followed by copies
of the supporting documentation and references. Then there
are some pieces that I've done more recently at the back.
You will find that a lot of the later work is based on your
own diary submissions.
There are a few missing pages and some
words have been blacked out before I copied them. You could
put in a request and get to see the original, but since
the only thing missing are the references to his family
name, I hope you'll leave it at what you have there. He
said he hasn't used the family name since he was turned,
that his vampire exploits have never been associated with
those he once loved and he prefers that it remain that way."
She had then quickly excused herself saying
she needed to get back before Quentin missed her.
Giles had been surprised at the contents
of the file. Where he'd looked at the records of Spike's
vampire career as a catalogue of horror, the young female
watcher had looked behind the deeds and tried to analyse
the motives behind the actions. Phrases seemed to leap out
at him.
"William disproves the popular supposition that only
a human's memories remain when he is turned, not his emotions.
The theory that a demon merely sets up shop in the human
body is inconsistent with the evidence suggested by an examination
of the known details of this vampire's unlife."
"Whilst only the vampire himself can
say whether he was in love with her William undoubtedly
displayed affection for and intense loyalty to Drusilla.
His gentleness and tenderness towards her are commented
upon in diverse sources."
"Angelus would torture many of his victims,
physically and psychologically. William would not have gained
acceptance within the family group had he shown himself
squeamish about the suffering of others. However whereas
Angelus seemed to view torture as a pastime, William seemed
to regard it as a weapon to be used when necessary or appropriate,
preferring to rely on his consort's gifts."
"His tenderness to his lover, was often
seen as potential weakness. This is possibly what forced
him to indulge in such savagery in other areas. Certainly
the kudos he received after killing his first slayer greatly
aided his acceptance as an equal or near-equal member of
the "Scourge" and enhanced the reputation of the group as
a whole."
"William was born too late. He had the
spirit, if not the literary ability of a Renaissance man."
"In those days when entailment was the
norm, William had the misfortune to be a younger son of
a younger son. He therefore had the social obligations of
one born of good family without the finances necessary to
truly hold his own in the society he kept. Unless he were
to marry extremely well, it is doubtful he would ever have
been truly accepted in his social circle and William was
too much the romantic to consider marrying for money.
The normal careers for younger sons
at the time were either the army or the clergy. William
was deemed too delicate both in spirit and body to join
the army. It would seem that his study of ancient languages
(Ancient Greek, Latin and Hebrew plus others) may have been
some sort of compromise between himself and his family so
that if he failed in his endeavour to pursue a scholarly
career, the clergy would remain an option."
"Despite his fearsome reputation, the
primary role William had for over a century and one he seemed
happy in, was that of carer. Although at times there was
more than ample opportunity to delegate Drusilla's care
to others, he always took an active part in tending to her
needs, and was said to understand her even at her least
lucid."
"From what was said at the time of our
visit to Sunnydale, my feeling on the matter is that the
vampire, even then, had feelings for the slayer. I find
it far more likely that this is what led to his co-operation
with her and her helpers rather than it being anything to
do with the chip. Since the "demise" of Angelus no vampire
has openly declared themselves master of the Hellmouth.
I contend that at least part of the reason for this is that
any vampire wishing to do so would have to prove themselves
against the dominant resident vampire i.e. William. Therefore
it stands to reason, that even chipped, if he so chose,
he could rule the Hellmouth. He is more than capable of
keeping the rest of the vampire population in line and could
easily circumvent the chip by having others do any actual
killing for him.
Instead he fought alongside the slayer
until her death and has since continued to aid her Watcher
and her friends in controlling the threat from the Hellmouth.
At the time of our visit he appeared to be caught once again
on the fringes of the society he sought to be a part of,
trying to hide the true motives for his actions behind lies
about monetary payment and payment in blood. The group as
a whole it seems do not class him as a member. There was
never any attempt made to have him attend when the slayer
was being tested, although all the others did. However they
make use of him when they find it expedient.
It is debatable, even with the levels
of witchcraft being used, whether the Hellmouth would be
tenable without his help. He is a warrior who was the equal
to Buffy Summers, widely acknowledged as the most successful
slayer in living memory. With the incumbent slayer incarcerated,
his continued co-operation is important if not vital. If
he were human we would not expect him to continue indefinitely
in what appears to be a thankless task. Let us hope for
all our sakes that vampiric patience and devotion outlast
Faith, or that he can truly be accepted as part of the group,
otherwise it is my opinion that the Hellmouth will fall
before a new slayer is called."
Giles was amazed that the other watcher
had been able to glean so much from the highly edited version
of events he had sent to the council. Out of respect for
Buffy's privacy he had kept many of the details of what
had happened between the pair secret. It was also clear
that the female watcher had over-romanticised Spike's past
and was quite possibly infatuated with him. Even bearing
that in mind, there was a great deal of truth in what she
said. He had yet to read the most recent parts of the file
when the mobile phone Spike had given him began to ring.
"Spike?"
"No, Angel. What's going on with you and
him?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Do you have
some sort of problem?"
"The Powers That Be seem to think we have.
What were the pair of you arguing about?"
"For goodness sake, it was nothing that
important, Spike just had a tantrum about not being appreciated.
He said something about, it didn't matter what he did he'd
never be good enough for us." Giles picked up a slight echo
on the line. "Have you got this call going through a speaker?"
"Yes, I have. If five of us including my
baby son have got to be up at three o'clock in the morning
because of your stupidity, then we're all going to hear
the conversation. So what was your reply to Spike's tantrum."
Angel filled the last word with a cold anger. "No doubt,
you reassured him that he was a valued member of the team,
I'm sure."
"No, I told him that I appreciated that
he had changed, but that since he was already talking about
killing someone—"
"Who?"
"Quentin Travers?"
"Why him?"
Giles sighed. "It was Quentin who hired
the Order of Taraka."
"So Spike wanted to kill him, so that the
Tarakans would be called off. That just sounds like self
defence to me, but I take it you had a problem with that?"
"Yes, well I told him if he was already
talking about killing someone then we couldn't take it for
granted he would be able to control himself without the
chip. I said he was sort of like a reformed alcoholic, that
everything would be sort of a day at a time."
Lorne interrupted taking the phone before
Angel could reply.
"Let me just check that I've got this straight
here. Spike tells you he has issues about being trusted
and accepted. You imply that he is worth less than some
watcher who wants to kill him presumably on no other basis
than the fact that this guy is human. You then tell him
that you ain't ever goin' to trust him, in fact you will
be waiting every day for him to fail. No wonder the guy's
flipped. With friends like you who needs enemies."
"I have not, nor will I ever claim to be
Spike's friend."
"You can say that again, honey." Angel
retrieved the phone from Lorne who turned to address the
former watcher in the group. "No wonder you quit that lot,
Wesley, seems to me they're all on the wrong side."
"Do you have any idea what you have done?"
"Look here! I don't have to sit here and
listen to this sort of abuse."
Angel's voice was cold and hard and he
put a deliberate pause at the end of every sentence. "Yes,
Giles, you do. You made this mess and you're the only one
who can get there in time to fix it. Spike was supposed
to get that chip out. Before we even looked for a doctor,
we had his aura read and that was okay, but I didn't want
to leave it at that. I went to ask the Powers. They told
me the chip had served its purpose, that it was time for
it to go. Spike is supposed to play some part in the days
to come. That, it would appear is now in jeopardy, because
of you.
Cordelia had a vision. With Wesley's help
we had already decided it was Travers' house in the country.
If you don't get there in time to stop him Spike is going
to go all "Serpent and the Rainbow" on your boss when he
gets home tonight."
""Serpent and the Rainbow"?"
"Let's just say that he'll find himself
nailed to a wooden chair and it won't be by his hands.
Giles, you better do this. There are times
when I could kill Spike myself, and God knows he can irritate
the life out of you, but he is family. For the first time
in a hundred years we're back on the same side. If I lose
him again because of you."
"Wouldn't it be simpler just to warn Travers?"
"Yes, it would, but you seem to be missing
the point of the vision. Cordelia wasn't getting Travers'
pain or fear or whatever. She was getting Spike's frustration
and anger and confusion. The Powers aren't interested in
saving Travers. They're interested in you stopping Spike
before he does something he can't recover from.
Besides if you tell Travers that Spike
is going to be waiting in his home, he'll just saturate
the place with assassins. You may as well stake him yourself."
Angel put the phone down before Giles could
respond further. As far as he was concerned everything that
needed saying had been said. Further conversation would
just be a waste of time.
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