Chapter 9

"So Will, whatcha doing?"

Buffy paced nervously around her friend’s room. "Working on anything good?"

Willow sighed. "I’m just doing some research on Doc. Or trying to anyway. This book is telling me nothing. You said you heard his voice right before you came back?"

"Uh huh."

Buffy opened the mini-fridge and spied a plate of buffalo wings covered by a flimsy piece of Saran Wrap. They didn’t look the freshest, but . . .

"You want these Will?"

"Nah," Willow shook her head distractedly. "You have them."

"Thanks." Buffy began gnawing on a wing. "Mmmm. Spicy."

"Yeah." Willow considered her friend. "OK Buffy. What’s wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing’s wrong."

"You know Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt."

"Why would anything be wrong?"

Willow laughed tonelessly. "Let’s see. You come back from the dead. You have all the memories of a sister-shaped mystical key thingy. You also got up-close and personal with the psyche of a soulless vamp who tried to kill you but suddenly decided hey! - he loves you instead. To top it off, you drank his and Dawnie’s blood - can I just say ewww here? Plus there’s the weirdness of Doc, a nasty little demon who went all apocalypsy on you. And now you’ve got the Council in town. So I could kinda see how a lot could be wrong."

Buffy suddenly seemed very immersed in her buffalo wings.

"So how did it go today? With the Council’s physicians I mean?"

"Well, they took some blood. Poked and prodded. Checked my reflexes. Had me fight. The usual stuff."

"And…"

"And they want me and Spike to meet them tonight to discuss their findings."

"Well, no wonder you’re stressed sweetie!"

"I’m kind of afraid what they’re going to tell me. What if I’m not normal?"

"Buffy, you’ve never been normal. Vampire Slayer? Remember?" Willow put her arm around her friend.

"I hope Spike didn’t screw things up."

"Why would he do that Buffy? He cares about you and Dawn. He knows you guys need the money."

Buffy bit viciously into another wing. "Remember that blonde watcher, Lydia Higginbottom?"

"Vaguely."

"Well apparently Dr. Higginbottom wrote her thesis on Spike. They went out last night. Spike said it was ‘to grease the wheels’… whatever that means." Buffy paused and tore another scrap of meat from the helpless wing. "He was greasing more than wheels last night."

"Buffy, what do you mean?" Willow observed her friend closely.

"I saw them Will. He was kissing her outside the restaurant."

Willow smirked. "Spike, you devil."

"What?"

"Nothing Buffy. So why are you so upset? Sounds like Spike is moving on. Besides, he’s doing you a favour, right? Helping you get into the Council’s good graces, avoiding any ooky questions about why he’s been helping you. Seems like it’s all to the good."

"I suppose. But the lips of Spike? That’s just blech! Who would want to kiss him anyway?"

"Who indeed?" Willow was having a hard time suppressing the urge to laugh.

"Plus, a vampire with a Watcher? That’s even more perverse than…"

"A vampire with a Slayer, right?"

"Right!" Buffy licked the spicy sauce from her fingers. "Got any hot chocolate Will?"

***

"Slayer."

"Vampire."

Silence.

Buffy stood by the door of the small white room where Spike, draped nonchalantly over a hideous orange chair, had already made himself comfortable.

"Who decorates waiting rooms anyway?"

"Must be a sadist." The vinyl creaked as Spike shifted his weight.

Silence. Were those crickets chirping? Buffy took a bright green seat next to Spike.

"So Spike, did you have fun last night on your date?" Buffy examined the cuticles of her nails. Time for another manicure.

Spike picked at the remnants of black polish on his left thumb. "Yeah. Lydia’s an alright bird." He cleared his throat and scanned the room. "Wonder if she’s gonna be here?"

"Nervous Spike?"

"Nah." Spike attempted smirking bravado. "Course not."

"Of course you wouldn’t be nervous. She obviously liked you. After all, you were making out with her last night." Buffy opened a five-month old issue of People magazine and angrily flipped a page.

"Hey, how do you…" Spike’s voice raised several decibels. "Wait a minute! Slayer, you were spying on me!"

"I was not." Buffy violently flipped another page. Catherine Zeta-Jones and that old guy had a baby. Would wonders never cease? "I was just on patrol, and I happened…"

"Oh yeah. Vamps really hang around Luigi’s. It’s their kinda place."

"You’re a vamp and you were there."

"That’s different."

"Is not."

"Is too."

Quentin Travers appeared in the doorway to the examination room and sighed. "Please come in. Both of you."

Buffy dropped the dog-eared magazine and flounced past Spike.

"Bloody women."

***

A very self-conscious Dr. Lydia Higginbottom stood with her clipboard at the back of the room, documenting the proceedings. Her pale skin looked a bit jaundiced and dark circles rimmed her bespectacled eyes.

Furtively Spike glanced at the watcher. Definitely hungover. Suddenly the generic abstract art on the wall above her head was absolutely fascinating. Wonder if it’s computer generated? Or maybe the artist just was really good at drawing straight lines? Or maybe…

"We have the results of our inquiry." Quentin Travers cleared his throat. "Please sit." He motioned to a pair of austere leather chairs. "We have some rather interesting news for both of you."

Spike withdrew his smokes. "I’m dying for a fag mate. You mind?"

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Bloody, I do. Put them away." Travers was all business.

"Right." Spike’s hand shook slightly as he slid the packet into his pocket. "So what’s the news?"

"It’s really quite remarkable. Dr. Higginbottom and I have consulted all of our available resources, and in the history of the Council, we’ve never seen anything like it. Ms. Summers is truly unique."

Spike snorted. "You can say that again."

"Perhaps if I speak slowly and show you pictures you will be able to understand the ramifications of your actions, Mr. Bloody."

"No need to be testy, Mr. Travers."

"Spike," Buffy hissed. "Be quiet."

Spike looked chastened. She was right. Not the time for witty rejoinders.

Traver’s hooked his laptop into a projector. "Here, Mr. Bloody. Pay close attention."

A microscopic view of something appeared.

"This is a slide of vampire’s blood. And this…" Another slide appeared next to the original. "This is a slide of Ms. Summers’ blood."

"No," Buffy whispered. "It can’t be true."

Spike’s heart sank. He did this to her, his Slayer, his Buffy.

"We don’t have a name for what you are Ms. Summers, but it’s an abomination." He paused and glared at Spike. Lydia cringed, but continued taking notes.

"Almost as great an abomination as a vampire in love with a Slayer."

End of Part 9

Continue to Part 10

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