TITLE: Recompense
DISCLAIMER: Regretfully I don't own any of these characters.
SPOILERS: Starts straight after Season 6, speculation for Season 7.
COUPLING: Buffy & Spike are the Romeo & Juliet of our time. only hopefully not quite as tragic.
FEEDBACK: Please!
RATING: PG13 - Maybe a higher rating at a later stage though.
Prologue
"You have endured the required trials."
"Bloody right I have. So you'll give me what I want, make me what I was, so Buffy can get what she deserves?"
"Very well. we will return. your soul."
"Oh hell, oh hell" Spike screamed as his head was filled with visions of murder, sacrifice and bloodshed. The worst of it was, he had been the cause! How. how could he have done so many terrible things to people? He had brought death to thousands, men, woman and children. He was a monster... As his mind filtered through the carnage he had caused, one face was continually present. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy.
What had he done to her? He was sitting in a cave, head in hands, sobbing repeatedly "Buffy, no. what have I done? What have I done?"
Of all the atrocities he had committed, wounding Buffy, hurting Buffy was the primary thought on his mind. She was his soul mate; his forever. and he'd tried to kill her time and time again. And then, just when they were beginning to come to some semblance of friendship, he'd tried to rape her! He could've given his old self plenty of reasons why. He could have justified his actions and somehow, turned it around on her. But Spike had a soul now. He knew he was to blame. And he knew he had to seek retribution.
He had no clothes, he was wounded in numerous places on his body, and he could barely walk, but now he had a purpose. He had a reason to go on. He had to go to Buffy. He had to try and make her forgive him.
1. The Return.
He didn't know how to approach her. How could he ever expect her to speak to him again after all he had done to her, to her family, to her friends, to the human race? He wasn't worthy of being the ground she walked on. But he had to try.
He stood at the tree, the tree she had secretly named "Spikes Tree". He watched and waited, looking for the perfect time to make himself known. He had such pent up feelings of nervousness, reliving their last encounter in his mind over and over again until he knew every expression on her face, every disgusting move he'd made.
Suddenly the front door to the Summer's residence opened. Buffy & Xander walked out, she had a stake in her hand; they looked like they were on their way to patrol.
". the letter also said she'd met a phlegm spitting Nagler demon in rehab who reminded her of me" Xander was saying as they strolled down the path. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"
"Well, at least you can be pleased that she appears to be doing a little better, has a bit of her old humour back anyway. I never thought Willow would get over Tara, and she probably never will, but at least she's not on self destruction mode any more" Buffy replied.
Spike felt light headed when she spoke. It felt like an eternity since he'd seen or heard her. He kept hidden for a while, waiting to hear what else they might say.
"So", Xander started cautiously, "Any news from the world of the first class rapist, slash crazy man, slash peroxide boy, slash creature of the night?" Xander asked, his voice displaying a note of disgust.
"Spike? Nar, think he's left us for good this time! Pity, Dawn misses him, she's pissed, but she still misses him."
"And what about you Buffster, do you miss him as well?" Xander probed.
Buffy looked down, she sighed deeply and said "No, no I don't. He was bad news. I don't care if I never see him again".
Spike felt like his world had come to an end. She hated him! Really, really hated him. Could he blame her though? He hated himself. "Maybe I should just sit down and stay here until the sun comes up. At least when I die, I'll be laid to rest at the only place that has felt like home to me," he thought.
But a voice inside his head kept telling him not to give up, don't give up yet Spike.
He watched the figures of Xander and Buffy walking down the road, still chatting amongst themselves, then briskly turned and headed towards his crypt.
Clem was sitting in his chair, watching repeats of Hollywood Squares on television. He was laughing at Paul Lynde's stupid comments when Spike opened the door.
"Clem, old mate, how ya been?" Spike asked the startled demon.
"Spike! It's been 3 months! I'd given you up for dead!" Clem replied, as he threw his arms around Spike and gave him a friendly hug.
"Alright, enough of that. Nobody is to know I'm back right? You can keep my stuff, and the crypt, I'm just back to get a few things, then I'm going into hiding again. Make sure you don't tell anyone I'm back, ya hear?" Spike pleaded.
"There's something different about you. Apart from the fact that you're not blonde any more. there's something in your eyes." Clem tilted his head to the side and started at Spike.
"Yeah, went on a little trip mate, had some "counselling" I guess you could call it".
"Alright, your secret is safe with me, just don't hurt those nice people, Dawns a cute kid and I'd hate to see her dead". Clem looked reproachfully at him, waiting for assurance that all was ok.
"I could never hurt them Clem. Don't worry. Anyway, I'll be seeing you, and remember, Not a word." Spike went down to the lower level of the crypt and lifted the mattress off his bed.
Underneath was an envelope, he opened the envelope and a few pictures of Buffy and Dawn fell out. He stared at them for a while; drinking in the beauty of his Buffy, then put them in the pocket of his jeans.
He headed to the grave that he'd used as a wardrobe and opened it up. Inside was a bag, a few pairs of jeans, some shirts and a jar full of cash. He packed all these up in the bag and headed out of the crypt, giving Clem a wave as he left.
"Where to go" Spike thought. "Somewhere she won't find me obviously. she'd take it the wrong way, think I was back with evil intentions." He walked for most of the night, lugging his bag on his shoulder, then had an idea. "Of course! Nobody's been there in years! And I doubt Angel will want it any more". Spike strode off towards Angel's mansion with a spring in his step. When the world looked like it was falling apart, you never knew what was around the corner!
The mansion was filthy, dust covered everything. But it was fully furnished, and there was electricity, which Angel had connected to the government quarry a block away. He set straight to work, sweeping and scrubbing to make the place livable. He had to do something to keep his mind occupied, he was heavily involved in his work and didn't realise it was daylight until his hand passed through a beam of sunlight. "Bugger" Spike grunted as he examined his burnt hand. "Time to call it a day I think."
He headed to the bedroom; it had been the first thing he'd cleaned, finding fresh sheets and towels in a linen closet. He had a quick shower and crawled into bed. Of course, no sleep was to be had, so he began contemplating how he was going to let Buffy know he was back, and how he was ever going to make her forgive him.
When he woke up, it was just sunset. He had dreamt about Buffy. She was happy to see him, she kissed him. It was like old times, only better, because there was no animosity between them. It gave him a feeling of hope. He had a vague idea what he had to do, he had to earn her love and respect, and he had to start straight away.
He found himself at the tree again. It was like an old friend, a comfortable groove had been indented on the trunk from all the times he'd frequented it. He'd stopped at Meyer's on the way over and bought Buffy some Eternity Rose perfume. He didn't know if she liked it, but the smell reminded him of her, so he thought it perfect. He had it gift wrapped, and on the card, a simple "I love you" was written.
He staked the house for about 20 minutes, just to make sure he wouldn't be seen, then raced up and left the gift at her front door. He then assumed his usual position at the tree.
A few hours later, he saw her making her way down the street. She looked bruised and battered and incredibly exhausted. She trundled up the pathway to her house and spotted the present on the porch. She was suspicious of it, as he knew she would be. Before she touched it, she looked around, making sure nobody was watching her, and then inspected the gift. After realising there was no spring action badness attached to it, she bent down for a closer inspection. Noticing the card, she opened it and read it. The minute she'd read the brief message, she looked straight at the tree. Spike had anticipated such and had climbed into the branches, making it impossible for him to be seen.
She put the card in her pocket and slowly opened the present. When she saw the bottle, she smiled. She had a sniff and then, cautiously, sprayed some perfume into the air. It smelt like normal perfume. It didn't have any chemical smell to it, she didn't think it'd been drugged.. and it smelt damn good. She decided to throw caution to the wind and sprayed some on her wrists.
Spike saw the smile, could virtually read her thoughts with every move she made. He was glad she was being so careful. A lot of people wanted the Slayer dead. What a perfect way to kill her. He was thankful he hadn't thought of it when he was evil.
He watched her spray it on her wrists, then picked the wrapping up with the bottle back inside and go into her house. As the door closed, he turned around and walked to the mansion. A smile of satisfaction on his face. He loved to make her happy. Even if she didn't know who had given the gift to her, he'd still made her happy.
In the following weeks, Spike would only ever leave the mansion to purchase gifts for Buffy and to leave them at her front door. He would wait for hours, just to see the expression of excitement on her face when she saw another present waiting for her.
The gifts he gave her varied, from the video An Affair to Remember, and jewellery to a gift voucher for a massage at the local beauty parlour. He'd had to bribe the beautician for that one, but she'd been cooperative when he'd explained that it was a gift for a work colleague, with whom he was suffering a bad case of an unrequited love. She said something about it being so romantic and she wouldn't ruin it for the world!
After about two months of this, Spike realised that the time would eventually come when Buffy would find out he was back in town. Whether it be she ran into him herself, or heard from someone else that he was back.
He was on his way over one day when he noticed Buffy walking around the tree, examining the ground. He'd quit smoking when he'd gotten his soul back. There was something too sinister in the action. It's not like he was addicted to it anyway, it was all part of "the look". He had no look any more. He'd bought himself some new clothes, different clothes. Blue jeans and shirts. Things he thought he'd never wear.
He didn't know what he was going to do with himself, but he knew, the time of confrontation was near. He thought it was best that he didn't surprise her, so he wrote her a letter. It took 3 hours until he was satisfied with what it said. Then, instead of leaving his customary gift at her front door, he left the letter. Buffy,
I'm back.
I would love to see you, to talk to you.
If you would oblige me, I will meet you just after sunset at the Expresso Pump.
Bring weapons if you would feel more comfortable, but please, come alone.
Yours sincerely,
Spike.
DISCLAIMER: Regretfully I don't own any of these characters.
SPOILERS: Starts straight after Season 6, speculation for Season 7.
COUPLING: Buffy & Spike are the Romeo & Juliet of our time. only hopefully not quite as tragic.
FEEDBACK: Please!
RATING: PG13 - Maybe a higher rating at a later stage though.
Prologue
"You have endured the required trials."
"Bloody right I have. So you'll give me what I want, make me what I was, so Buffy can get what she deserves?"
"Very well. we will return. your soul."
"Oh hell, oh hell" Spike screamed as his head was filled with visions of murder, sacrifice and bloodshed. The worst of it was, he had been the cause! How. how could he have done so many terrible things to people? He had brought death to thousands, men, woman and children. He was a monster... As his mind filtered through the carnage he had caused, one face was continually present. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy.
What had he done to her? He was sitting in a cave, head in hands, sobbing repeatedly "Buffy, no. what have I done? What have I done?"
Of all the atrocities he had committed, wounding Buffy, hurting Buffy was the primary thought on his mind. She was his soul mate; his forever. and he'd tried to kill her time and time again. And then, just when they were beginning to come to some semblance of friendship, he'd tried to rape her! He could've given his old self plenty of reasons why. He could have justified his actions and somehow, turned it around on her. But Spike had a soul now. He knew he was to blame. And he knew he had to seek retribution.
He had no clothes, he was wounded in numerous places on his body, and he could barely walk, but now he had a purpose. He had a reason to go on. He had to go to Buffy. He had to try and make her forgive him.
1. The Return.
He didn't know how to approach her. How could he ever expect her to speak to him again after all he had done to her, to her family, to her friends, to the human race? He wasn't worthy of being the ground she walked on. But he had to try.
He stood at the tree, the tree she had secretly named "Spikes Tree". He watched and waited, looking for the perfect time to make himself known. He had such pent up feelings of nervousness, reliving their last encounter in his mind over and over again until he knew every expression on her face, every disgusting move he'd made.
Suddenly the front door to the Summer's residence opened. Buffy & Xander walked out, she had a stake in her hand; they looked like they were on their way to patrol.
". the letter also said she'd met a phlegm spitting Nagler demon in rehab who reminded her of me" Xander was saying as they strolled down the path. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"
"Well, at least you can be pleased that she appears to be doing a little better, has a bit of her old humour back anyway. I never thought Willow would get over Tara, and she probably never will, but at least she's not on self destruction mode any more" Buffy replied.
Spike felt light headed when she spoke. It felt like an eternity since he'd seen or heard her. He kept hidden for a while, waiting to hear what else they might say.
"So", Xander started cautiously, "Any news from the world of the first class rapist, slash crazy man, slash peroxide boy, slash creature of the night?" Xander asked, his voice displaying a note of disgust.
"Spike? Nar, think he's left us for good this time! Pity, Dawn misses him, she's pissed, but she still misses him."
"And what about you Buffster, do you miss him as well?" Xander probed.
Buffy looked down, she sighed deeply and said "No, no I don't. He was bad news. I don't care if I never see him again".
Spike felt like his world had come to an end. She hated him! Really, really hated him. Could he blame her though? He hated himself. "Maybe I should just sit down and stay here until the sun comes up. At least when I die, I'll be laid to rest at the only place that has felt like home to me," he thought.
But a voice inside his head kept telling him not to give up, don't give up yet Spike.
He watched the figures of Xander and Buffy walking down the road, still chatting amongst themselves, then briskly turned and headed towards his crypt.
Clem was sitting in his chair, watching repeats of Hollywood Squares on television. He was laughing at Paul Lynde's stupid comments when Spike opened the door.
"Clem, old mate, how ya been?" Spike asked the startled demon.
"Spike! It's been 3 months! I'd given you up for dead!" Clem replied, as he threw his arms around Spike and gave him a friendly hug.
"Alright, enough of that. Nobody is to know I'm back right? You can keep my stuff, and the crypt, I'm just back to get a few things, then I'm going into hiding again. Make sure you don't tell anyone I'm back, ya hear?" Spike pleaded.
"There's something different about you. Apart from the fact that you're not blonde any more. there's something in your eyes." Clem tilted his head to the side and started at Spike.
"Yeah, went on a little trip mate, had some "counselling" I guess you could call it".
"Alright, your secret is safe with me, just don't hurt those nice people, Dawns a cute kid and I'd hate to see her dead". Clem looked reproachfully at him, waiting for assurance that all was ok.
"I could never hurt them Clem. Don't worry. Anyway, I'll be seeing you, and remember, Not a word." Spike went down to the lower level of the crypt and lifted the mattress off his bed.
Underneath was an envelope, he opened the envelope and a few pictures of Buffy and Dawn fell out. He stared at them for a while; drinking in the beauty of his Buffy, then put them in the pocket of his jeans.
He headed to the grave that he'd used as a wardrobe and opened it up. Inside was a bag, a few pairs of jeans, some shirts and a jar full of cash. He packed all these up in the bag and headed out of the crypt, giving Clem a wave as he left.
"Where to go" Spike thought. "Somewhere she won't find me obviously. she'd take it the wrong way, think I was back with evil intentions." He walked for most of the night, lugging his bag on his shoulder, then had an idea. "Of course! Nobody's been there in years! And I doubt Angel will want it any more". Spike strode off towards Angel's mansion with a spring in his step. When the world looked like it was falling apart, you never knew what was around the corner!
The mansion was filthy, dust covered everything. But it was fully furnished, and there was electricity, which Angel had connected to the government quarry a block away. He set straight to work, sweeping and scrubbing to make the place livable. He had to do something to keep his mind occupied, he was heavily involved in his work and didn't realise it was daylight until his hand passed through a beam of sunlight. "Bugger" Spike grunted as he examined his burnt hand. "Time to call it a day I think."
He headed to the bedroom; it had been the first thing he'd cleaned, finding fresh sheets and towels in a linen closet. He had a quick shower and crawled into bed. Of course, no sleep was to be had, so he began contemplating how he was going to let Buffy know he was back, and how he was ever going to make her forgive him.
When he woke up, it was just sunset. He had dreamt about Buffy. She was happy to see him, she kissed him. It was like old times, only better, because there was no animosity between them. It gave him a feeling of hope. He had a vague idea what he had to do, he had to earn her love and respect, and he had to start straight away.
He found himself at the tree again. It was like an old friend, a comfortable groove had been indented on the trunk from all the times he'd frequented it. He'd stopped at Meyer's on the way over and bought Buffy some Eternity Rose perfume. He didn't know if she liked it, but the smell reminded him of her, so he thought it perfect. He had it gift wrapped, and on the card, a simple "I love you" was written.
He staked the house for about 20 minutes, just to make sure he wouldn't be seen, then raced up and left the gift at her front door. He then assumed his usual position at the tree.
A few hours later, he saw her making her way down the street. She looked bruised and battered and incredibly exhausted. She trundled up the pathway to her house and spotted the present on the porch. She was suspicious of it, as he knew she would be. Before she touched it, she looked around, making sure nobody was watching her, and then inspected the gift. After realising there was no spring action badness attached to it, she bent down for a closer inspection. Noticing the card, she opened it and read it. The minute she'd read the brief message, she looked straight at the tree. Spike had anticipated such and had climbed into the branches, making it impossible for him to be seen.
She put the card in her pocket and slowly opened the present. When she saw the bottle, she smiled. She had a sniff and then, cautiously, sprayed some perfume into the air. It smelt like normal perfume. It didn't have any chemical smell to it, she didn't think it'd been drugged.. and it smelt damn good. She decided to throw caution to the wind and sprayed some on her wrists.
Spike saw the smile, could virtually read her thoughts with every move she made. He was glad she was being so careful. A lot of people wanted the Slayer dead. What a perfect way to kill her. He was thankful he hadn't thought of it when he was evil.
He watched her spray it on her wrists, then picked the wrapping up with the bottle back inside and go into her house. As the door closed, he turned around and walked to the mansion. A smile of satisfaction on his face. He loved to make her happy. Even if she didn't know who had given the gift to her, he'd still made her happy.
In the following weeks, Spike would only ever leave the mansion to purchase gifts for Buffy and to leave them at her front door. He would wait for hours, just to see the expression of excitement on her face when she saw another present waiting for her.
The gifts he gave her varied, from the video An Affair to Remember, and jewellery to a gift voucher for a massage at the local beauty parlour. He'd had to bribe the beautician for that one, but she'd been cooperative when he'd explained that it was a gift for a work colleague, with whom he was suffering a bad case of an unrequited love. She said something about it being so romantic and she wouldn't ruin it for the world!
After about two months of this, Spike realised that the time would eventually come when Buffy would find out he was back in town. Whether it be she ran into him herself, or heard from someone else that he was back.
He was on his way over one day when he noticed Buffy walking around the tree, examining the ground. He'd quit smoking when he'd gotten his soul back. There was something too sinister in the action. It's not like he was addicted to it anyway, it was all part of "the look". He had no look any more. He'd bought himself some new clothes, different clothes. Blue jeans and shirts. Things he thought he'd never wear.
He didn't know what he was going to do with himself, but he knew, the time of confrontation was near. He thought it was best that he didn't surprise her, so he wrote her a letter. It took 3 hours until he was satisfied with what it said. Then, instead of leaving his customary gift at her front door, he left the letter. Buffy,
I'm back.
I would love to see you, to talk to you.
If you would oblige me, I will meet you just after sunset at the Expresso Pump.
Bring weapons if you would feel more comfortable, but please, come alone.
Yours sincerely,
Spike.