When In Rome: Sack O' Hammers
by Helga Von Nutwimple
"Any more of those?" Xander asks as he walks down the basement stairs, eye on Spike's beer.

"Got a stash. Liquid earplugs, I call 'em." Spike hooks his toe beneath his bunk, hauls out a small cooler. He removes a bottle and hands it to Xander, who collapses onto the bunk next to him with a sigh.

"You got your coat back," Xander says.

Spike lights a cigarette. "Very observant."

"So, that was heavy today, huh? Portal and all, First Slayers, yadayah."

"Yeah... looks like our little Slayer's got a bit o'demon in her," Spike smirks, tilts his head to the side. "Wonder if she'd like some more?"

Xander leaps off the bunk. "You're disgusting."

"Just tryin' to be who she wants me to be," Spike shrugs, taking a drag. "Bloody hard to keep up when that changes every day."

"Look, when she said she wanted the Old Spike, I'm pretty sure she just meant the ass-kicking aspects. You didn't have to pull out the leatherwear and the sneering and the innuendo."

Spike raises an eyebrow. "Cracked the Slayer's code, eh? Don't suppose you'd loan me your decoder ring."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm stupidly in love with the bint, ain't I? And don't give me any of that oh-you're-a-demon-you-can't-love business, I bloody well could before they stuffed the soul in me and I certainly can now. Said she didn't like me because I was an evil, soulless thing... and now she wants me to be an evil, soulless thing again? What the bloody hell does she want me to do, get the kind o' soul I stick on with bloody Velcro and can shove in my pocket when my conscience is inconvenient for her?"

"You wanna know what Buffy wants in a man, huh?" Xander laughs. "Why, I've actually devoted several years to studying the topic... if you'd like to hear my findings."

"Oh, please... enlighten me," Spike drawls, sitting up a little higher.

"Well, first off... he's got to be strong. Really strong. As strong as her, or she just won't be able to really respect him. No mere mortals like yours truly need apply. Even Riley came up short on that one. So basically, he has to be more than human."

"Right..."

"So that rules out the humans, which leaves demons. Oh, but wait -- she wants a normal life, too. Or whatever the hell she thinks is a normal life when she gets up at three a.m. and goes out to kill things with pointy sticks. So she wants a guy who can give her kids, picket fences, walks in the sunshine -- oops, that rules you out, doesn't it, Dead Boy? Ruled out Angel, too. So... no humans or demons."

Spike grins wryly. "She wants a male version of herself, is that what you're saying?"

"Bingo. Too bad she can't pull a Willow; she and Faith would make a videotape worth buying."

Spike chuckles at the image. "So basically what you're saying is that no one has a chance with her?"

"Not long-term, no. Look, I'm not blind, Spike. I know you guys have some... freaky chemistry a-brewing... and maybe you'll even get back there for a while, especially now that you have a soul or whatever. But in the long run? She'll want the pitter-patter of tiny feet and a guy she can bring to Family Day at the Zoo. And once she gets that guy? He won't do it for her either. Y'know, Riley told me something you said to him once..."

"The girl just needs a little monster in her man," Spike finishes, smiling a little.

"Yeah. And you're right. But here's the rub, Spikey old boy... a little. Like she has. You're the all-access-pass to monsterpalooza, and that's why you'll never keep her, even if you get her."

"And on the other hand... there's Anya."

In a flash, Xander is all adrenaline. "You stay the hell away from Anya!"

Spike rolls his eyes. "I'm not talking about me, you bloody idiot. I'm talking about you. Carpe the diem already."

"I'm... I'm not ready. It's complicated, it's..."

"Bloody well get ready! We're facing the origin of all evil! It rather puts the dead in bloody deadline, dunnit?"

Xander shifts from foot to foot, and Spike groans in disgust, pointing to the ceiling. "Look, mate, there's a beautiful woman in love with you 'bout eight feet thattaway. If you spend five more minutes down here in the cellar with the undead instead of up there with her, I'm gonna start castin' public doubt on your orientation."

"You do that anyway," Xander stammers.

"Whelp? Get up the stairs or I'll kick you up 'em."

Xander shifts his weight from foot to foot, staring at Spike... who merely cocks an eyebrow.

"Thanks," Xander blurts, and pounds up the stairs.

---------------------

Buffy yanked her arm away from Willow, gasping.

"Was that what you wanted?" Willow purred, black eyes glimmering. "I could give you more."

"No... no... that's okay... Will, you've gone all scary-eyes..."

"I think you need some more."

---------------------

"So, how come you eat food all the time?" Dawn asks, winding a strand of stetching pizza cheese around her finger. "I mean... I thought you liked blood and stuff."

"I do like blood," Spike grins, lifting his mug of it. "Still like food, though. Y'think you'll eat another piece?"

"Yeah, I feel piggy," Dawn says, sucking the cheese-wrapping off her finger. "Do it."

Spike reaches down into the pizza box between them, taking all the mushrooms off one slice and swapping them for all the green peppers on another. His fingers are left covered in tomato sauce; he licks it off each finger, stopping when he notices Dawn's intense look.

"Whatcha starin' at, Bit?"

"It just... looks like blood. Do you do that with blood?"

Spike's eyes narrow. "Are these the sort of wholesome, natural questions about blood-drinkin' every teen is curious about, or are you seguein' into my least favorite topic ever?"

"Well, since you brought it up..."

"Bloody hell, Bit, not again."

"I've been thinking..."

Spike groans. "The three most dangerous words in the human language..."

"My blood is the Key to opening the portal, right? So if you sucked out all my blood... I wouldn't be the Key anymore. I'd be safe from Glory. You'd make a much better Key than me... you're tougher, you can fight..."

"Don't think it works like that, Bit. What movies did you rent, then?"

"Don't change the subject, Spike. C'mon... it's perfect, and you know it."

"Not bloody vampin' you, Bit. Quit bloody askin' me. Eat your pizza."

Dawn pushes herself off the sarcophagus. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Oh, God, not the pouty face, don't make the pouty face..."

"You don't like me."

Spike rolls his eyes. "Nibblet, of course I do. Wouldn't suffer through your bloody wretched taste in films if I didn't, would I?"

"You won't protect me from Glory."

"I will protect you from Glory, Bit... any way I can that doesn't involve killin' you."

"I'd still be alive."

"No, you bloody wouldn't, and I ought to know. Had a bit of experience on the topic."

Dawn flounces across the crypt. "You won't do it because of Buffy. Because you have a crush on Buffy."

"That's not why," Spike growls.

"Whatever. You're just afraid of losing points with her."

"Bit, if I vamped you, I'd be afraid of being dust from her."

"You don't even like me," Dawn accuses. "You're just being nice to me to get in good with Buffy. Just like you sucked up to Mom. Don't think I didn't notice."

"Bit..."

"Maybe you think that if I die, Buffy'll be so sad she'll come to you, huh? It won't ever happen, Spike. Never, ever, never happen. That crap you pulled with Drusilla and that creepy shrine... yeah, Spike, I know all about it."

"Bit, look, I acted like a moron, but I can explain..."

"Don't bother." Dawn grabs her backpack, tossing it angrily over her shoulder. "If you really cared about me, you'd save me. And since you won't save me... I guess I know how you feel about me."

"Bit, it's not like that..."

"Forget it, Spike. I'm going home. There are people there who really love me, who'd save me if they could."

Dawn pounds up the stairs and out of the crypt, and Spike leaps off the sarcophagus.

"Bit?" he calls, running after her.

He takes a few steps outside the crypt. "Bit? Bit, come back..."

She is gone.

Spike vamps out in frustration, punching the wall of his crypt, rough stone tearing away the skin of his knuckles before his face smooths and he takes off after Dawn at a run.

"Run off into the cemetery at night all alone," Spike mutters under his breath as he leaps tombstones, following her. "Fabulous plan, fabulous. Ought to just let the crawlies getcha..."

He catches up to her, duster flying. Dawn doesn't turn.

"What are you doing, Spike?"

"Bloody well walking you home."

---------------------

"Willow... stop..." Buffy gasped, trying to pry Willow's fingers off her arm...

---------------------

"Bugger off, Dru," Spike moans, curled in the fetal position. His hair is grown out, wild and curly, his natural brown pushing the white-blonde to the tips. "Don't want to talk to the stars. Know what they'll say. Poor little demon girl, poor little demon girl. Slash-slice, a millenium and poof -- gone. I always liked her, pet, I always did."

A bookbag drops at his feet. "Hey, Spike."

"It's the Nibblet, Dru, do you remember her? Such bright green energy, she is. She's a doorway to hell; you'd like her. Go nice with Peaches and his big bloody rock, and that's the truth, ain't it? Friends don't have a rock this big."

"Wow, you really are crazy," Dawn sighs.

"Read it in the stars, pet, it's all in the stars, what's coming. Boy meets girl, girl turns blue, boy loses girl. Over and over. Light and dark, male and female, when the angels fall and lose their inky wing. It's not what he thinks it is, Nibblet, it's not. Signed in blood but they've got other ideas. Got to get the girl a blade, Pet, got to get it. In the end I'm all alone, all alone... it's the trinket, don't you see? Burnin' alive with her words in my head, burnin' alive on a lie."

"I brought you some blood."

"Tastes like death, pet. Tastes like death... all the death runnin' together, nobody stays dead anymore. They're bringin' us back, one by one. One final curtain call. Gotta have everyone, Bit... gotta take a bow. Your sister, pet, she's a trendsetter, she is. Everybody wants to be like her, flesh knitted together. I'll do it too, they're not done with me, pet, they've got plans... more prophecies than they know of, love, prophecies on prophecies, but they're not above a little deception... there's a window, don't you see? A window of opportunity."

Dawn reaches in her backpack, pulling out a small knife. She slashes her palm, cutting deeply.

"Won't work, pet, won't work. Not now or then. You'll try, you'll fail, you'll live in a marble in my pocket. Careful not to break you. Little girls rip like pink paper; that's what Dru says..."

Dawn kneels in front of him, rests her bloody palm on Spike's lips. "Spike? Drink."

He shakes his head from side to side maniacally. "Think I'm crazy, you think I'm crazy."

"No, I know you're crazy. Have a drink. You have to be thirsty."

"You don't like mushrooms, and I won't do it. You can have my peppers, Bit. Just the peppers, though. No death. We brought the same gift, Bit. Death is our gift. Hope you kept the receipt."

"Spike, c'mon..."

Spike's eyes suddenly clear; for a moment, he is utterly rational. He tosses Dawn's hand away roughly.

"Bugger off, Bit, I'll never be that sack o' hammers."

"Spike?"

"Don't interrupt your sister when she's speaking, Bit. It's terribly rude."

"Buffy's not here, Spike..."

Another lucid flash. "Nibblet?"

"Yes, Spike?"

"Run."

"But..."

"RUN!" Spike screams, grabbing his head, throwing himself on the floor, curling into the fetal position.

And Dawn does, the slap of her sneakers echoing down the basement corridor as Spike's yellow eyes stare sightlessly at a filing cabinet.

"Early one morning, just as the sun was shining..." Spike croons tunelessly into the dust.

A roach crawls across his forehead. Spike never blinks.

---------------------

Buffy dropped to her knees, pulling at Willow's clawlike hand, finally ripping it from her flesh.

"Ow," Willow said in her normal voice. "Broke a nail. Ouchie."

"He wasn't just babbling," Buffy gasps.

"Huh? Buffy, what'd you say? I feel weird... did I go all scary eyes again?"

"He wasn't babbling, in the basement, he was... foretelling..."

"Again I say, 'huh'?"

"Poor little demon girl... Will, that's Anya. Got to get the girl a blade... me, with the scythe... the trinket, burning alive... oh God, Will, he knew he was going to die in the Hellmouth if he wore that amulet... he knew and he wore it anyway..."

"Buffy? Buffy, honey, you're not making any sense..."

"When the angels fall and lose their inky wing..." Buffy's eyes opened wide.

"Buffy, what is it?"

"Will, I have to go."

"Um, okay, why?"

"I have to go see if Angel still has his tattoo."

---------------------

"It's... it's good to see you, Spike."

Spike reached for his cigarettes. "Well, it's good to see you too, Glinda... don't know why I'm so bloody surprised, either, it's like soddin' Body Snatchers Anonymous around here... did the Bit, er, channel ya or something? Bring out the Bit."

"Spike... uh, don't freak, but..." Tara held up a glass orb. "I think... well, I'm almost positive... Dawnie in in here."

Spike snapped his lighter closed. "Bloody Hell! That's an..."

"Orb of Thesulah, yes."

"Bit's in the ball," Spike said incredulously. "Bloody hell. Did I already say bloody hell? Bloody hell! How do we get her back out?"

"Spike, I... I don't think we should just yet."

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Look, pet, if you're thinkin' about a final shag with Red before you trundle on back to Heaven, I gotta tell you, I think the body you're wearin' s'gonna squick her a bit."

Tara laughed... a rich, mellow sound that sounded utterly bizarre coming from Dawn's throat. "That wasn't exactly what I was getting at, Spike. Dawn's... obviously not in a very good place..."

"Anyone ever tell you you've got a real flair for understatement?" Spike took a heavy, disgusted drag of his cigarette.

"Spike... I'm the one who put Dawn in the Orb. I did it on purpose."

Spike's eyes flashed yellow, and Tara put a restraining hand on his arm. "Let me explain, okay?"

"Make it quick."

"All right. Dawn summoned me, Spike. I was supposed to be the one in the Orb. She was planning to trap my soul in it. It was such a weird feeling... I was here but not, I could hear what both of you were thinking, what both of you were planning. And I knew how bad it was... and before I knew it, I'd sort of... stepped into Dawn. And I put her in the Orb. I didn't know what else to do, Spike. If she'd gone through with what she was planning..."

"And what, exactly, was she planning?" Spike growled.

Tara sighed. "She was going to trap me in the Orb, force you to vamp her, and then have you perform the spell to put my soul into her body. She wrote it out for you. Phonetically. In... green glitter pen. It's on the other bed."

"Bloody hell," Spike moaned.

"That wasn't the worst part, though," Tara added quietly.

"It gets worse? Fantastic. What's the worse bit, then?"

"What you were planning to do."

Spike gaped. "Beg pardon?"

"Once you were helpless, Dawn explained what she was doing to you. She needed you to perform the second part of the spell once she died and the compulsion on you dropped. But... you weren't going to do it."

Tara dropped her eyes, twisting her hands. "You'd already worked it out, what you were going to do as soon as the compulsion dropped. You were going to free my soul... and give her yours. And then, you were gonna..."

"Take a walk on the sunny side of the street, eh, pet? Sounds like me. Always been a bloody drama queen."

"You are kind of stupid when you love someone," Tara grinned.

"You saved me and the Bit both, then." Spike twisted his head to regard her. "Don't suppose they make sufficient thank-you cards for that sort of thing."

"Well... you saved Willow when you closed the Hellmouth. Maybe we can buy each other a beer."

"Hate to break it to you, love, but you're too young to drink."

"Yeah, but look how skinny I am!"

Spike laughed. "Bloody women. Back from the dead and all you care about is that you've got thighs a proper-sized person could floss with."

"That's not all I care about, Spike, I just... noticed." Tara shrugged. "Anyway, we have bigger problems..."

"Like the ball full o'Bit." Spike took the Orb from Tara's hand, holding it up to the light.

"Exactly."

"D'ya think she can hear me in there?"

"I don't think so."

"Damn. I've got years of yellin' to do." Spike turned the Orb in his fingers. "So, what do we do?"

"Well, I... you're not going to like this... but I think that's kind of... Buffy's call, isn't it?"

"And here I thought this day couldn't get worse."

"Willow and Xander will be able to fix this. Willow's done this spell several times..."

"Right," Spike scoffed. "Red's gonna line right up for that, sure. Hey, Red? Remember how Tara died and y'nearly killed everyone on the planet? Well, she's back, and this time, you get to kill her! Put on your pointy hat and get to work, then!"

Tara paled. "I hadn't thought about it quite like that."

"That's what we've gotta bloody do, innit? Think this thing out from a million bleedin' angles?"

Spike touched Tara's shoulder. "C'mon, pet. You've been dead for two years, I think you deserve to be bought some pie."

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