Willow smiled tentatively. "Yeah, Giles and I thought it might be better if I just came back without calling first. We weren't exactly sure what your reaction would be."
"Oh, it's good." A grin began to spread across Buffy's face. "You couldn't have picked a better moment to return."
Willow cocked her head. "Huh? Why is that?" She finally stepped inside the house and Buffy closed the door behind her. "And why is it so dark?" Willow glanced at the closed curtains before her gaze fell on the other occupant of the room. "Spike's here? When did he come back?"
"I found him in the high-school basement about a week and a half ago, but it feels like a heck of a lot longer."
Willow continued to stare. "What's with the mini-Giles look? Not that it doesn't suit him."
"Believe me, it was necessary. Although I never knew tweed was so expensive."
Spike looked up from his copy of "Horton's Demon Compendium." "Willow, it's good to see you back. Buffy told me what happened to you. I trust you're feeling more yourself now?"
Willow stepped forward and began to address the vampire. "Hi, Sp--"
Buffy pulled her back, effectively cutting off the greeting. "Stay back from him for a minute. I have to explain something to you first. Long story short: Spike's living in my basement. Somehow, he got his soul back. I'm not sure how it happened, where it happened, or exactly when it happened, but he's a wreck because of it. Only if he wears a costume, he's much calmer. I figured, who better to imitate than logical, level-headed Giles, who happens to be on the other side of the world anyway." No response. "Hey? Willow?" Buffy waved a hand in front of her friend's face.
"Sorry," Willow came back to herself and apologized. "Still trying to absorb. Spike not only looks like Giles, he even sounds like him."
"I know, it's pretty remarkable. But it gets better. Watch." Buffy went over to Spike, who was again buried in an old text. "Giles." She emphasized the name, attracting his attention. "I need you to research Kigor demons for me--appearance, attacks, habitat, all that sort of thing." She returned to Willow. "Now we just sit back and wait. We can talk, too. Talking would be good, and it's definitely necessary."
The women seated themselves across the room from Spike, who had taken Buffy's words to heart and was plowing through a mound of papers and books.
With an obvious effort, Willow tore her eyes away from the incredible sight. "Just tell me one thing: Do I have to call him 'Giles' now, too? 'Cause that would be really weird."
"I know," Buffy acknowledged. "Don't you think having to do it creeps me out? But I want to keep him in character. Fortunately, it's working out pretty well. He seems content to be left alone with his research materials and he doesn't require much conversation." Buffy paused, trying to think of the most effective approach to take to soften Willow up. A misdirect seemed like a good idea. "Well, enough about Spike. How was your trip?"
For the next little while, the two talked about the flight, Buffy's new job, and Xander, all the time carefully avoiding any mention of magic, vampires, or souls.
Running out of small talk, Buffy was relieved to find another subject to discuss. This one was bound to help her attain her main goal of obtaining Willow's magical help. She nudged her friend. "Look over there."
Together, they checked out Spike's work on the Kigor demon. He had already turned out a credible drawing of the horned creature, three books with marked passages, and a chart filled with pertinent facts. And he was still slaving away.
Willow's eyes widened. "Wow. That's very Gilesian. Only, Spike's better at sketching."
"Yeah. He could have been a Watcher himself. He's great at research. But I'm afraid to break him out of this mode. When he's Spike again, he's pretty much unbearable. I've never heard so much whining and crying and carrying-on. He's taking this soul thing very hard. Which leads me to a serious matter. I have to ask you for a small favor. It's something only you can do and if you say no, I have no other options. My back's against the wall here."
"I'll do whatever I can to help, Buffy," Willow promised.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Buffy paused, taking her time in selecting the words that would best help her cause. "Now, let me start by saying I know you're not supposed to use magic anymore after almost destroying the world. But while you were in England you must have gotten hooked up in one of those 12-step programs. Which means if you just happen to have a tiny little relapse then all you do is work the program and everything's okay, right?"
Willow frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure what you're getting at, but Giles told me I can't *not* use magic. It's a part of me now."
"Oh." Buffy took a moment to mull over that information. "Well, that's both incredibly disturbing in case you go on another rampage, and incredibly convenient for me."
With dawning alarm in her voice, Willow repeated, "Convenient? How?"
"I don't like Spike's soul and I need you to curse him so if he experiences a moment of happiness, he'll lose it," Buffy announced. "It should be a piece of cake for you. You did it to Angel way back when you were still a junior witch or whatever."
"Buffy, I can't do that! It's... it's...." Willow fumbled for a word. "It's overkill!"
"You mean there's an easier way of sending off the soul?"
"No, I mean I won't have anything to do with getting rid of it at all!" Willow glanced at the hard-working vampire and lowered her voice. "It isn't right. The very fact that Spike has regained his soul is a miracle. It's not something to complain about. You have to work with him to try to get him reacclimated to the world. He's seeing life through new eyes. Give him a chance."
"Willow, you're looking at things the wrong way." Buffy summoned all of her patience to calmly explain. "First of all, this reacclimation will probably take the better part of a century. Second, even if Spike does adjust, he won't be the same. No more sparring, no more snide remarks, no more arguments. Heck, the 'new' Spike will probably even be nice to Xander, and you have to admit, that just wouldn't be natural. I don't want a souled, emasculated loser of a Spike--I want the old Spike I loved to hate. Plus, I feel partly responsible for his condition. Spike said he got the soul for me. Most men don't even bother to pick up flowers on anniversaries. Spike, on the other hand, is a diamond in the rough. Or he *was*."
Willow nodded. "According to 'Cosmo,' you are *so* right about the flowers thing."
Buffy beamed.
"But I'm still not going to participate in this crazy scheme."
Buffy's smile disappeared. "I don't think I've made matters clear enough. I've decided what will happen. There is no room for negotiations."
"If you're so set on this, why pick on me? Can't you find someone else to help?"
"Willow, I've tried. You wouldn't believe how many times I've been hung up on in the last few days."
Willow brightened. "I know! Anya's still all vengeance-demony, right? Why don't you sic her on Spike?"
"I thought about that."
"And...?"
"And I concluded that since Anya's typical methods of retaliation seem to consist of placing boils on penises or transforming her victims into ravening monsters, I'd rather bypass her. I want my Spike whole." Sensing a chink in her friend's armor, Buffy pressed her advantage. "Like I said, you're my last hope. You of all people should realize how pathetic that fact is--that I'm turning for aid to the person who only a few short months ago practically demolished the world."
As Willow's face fell, Buffy prepared to experience the sweet feeling of victory. She had chosen precisely the right words and her plan was guaranteed to work. Just as long as Willow didn't ask what Giles had said.
Willow bit her lip. "You must have discussed this with Giles. What did he say?"
'Oh, shit.' "Giles doesn't understand the gravity of the situation."
"In other words, he told you it was a bad idea."
Scrambling to do damage control, Buffy offered, "He could still call me back with help. Okay, so I'm not holding my breath, but he could. It's not beyond the realm of possibility."
"But Buffy, didn't you always used to yell at Spike for being evil and soulless?"
"Shut up, Willow. That was then and this is now. I'm matured since then. I've grown as a person. I've become desperate." Buffy looked imploringly at Willow, but saw no hint of softening on her features. It was time to haul out the big guns. Buffy jumped up, strode over to Spike, and plucked the wire-rimmed glasses off of his face. "Spike, get back in that basement. You're not Giles anymore."
His head drooped down and he scuttled away, abandoning his research. A twinge of regret shot through Buffy, but she quickly buried it. After all, she had to win Willow over and the best way to do it was to show her the new and decidedly unimproved version of Spike. She waited until the vampire was safely gone and then turned back to Willow. "Your luggage is outside, right? Let's bring it in."
"You're all right with me staying here?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way. We can even switch rooms."
Together, they hauled Willow's two suitcases inside and upstairs to Buffy's bedroom. Okay, so she'd have to take over the room in which Tara had died, but it was a tactical maneuver. She'd make Willow feel beholden to her, then spring the trap. At that point, Buffy wasn't above using any advantage she could finagle, no matter how unfair.
After helping Willow unpack, Buffy checked her watch. She'd given Spike a 15-minute headstart, which should have been plenty of time to allow him to get really worked up. "Willow, how about we go visit with Spike? You can see him in his full ensouled glory."
"You're not going to try to talk me into, *you know*, again?"
Buffy shook her head. "I don't think I'll need to. I'm sure you'll start seeing things my way after about, oh, 30 seconds or so in Spike's presence." She allowed a wary Willow to precede her to the basement, where Spike was huddled near the foot of the stairs, clutching his knees and rocking.
"He doesn't look so bad," Willow offered.
Unfortunately, she was right. 'Come on, Spike, *please* come through for me,' Buffy willed him. "Why don't you tell Spike you forgive him?" she prompted Willow. "Forgiveness is a big issue with him nowadays."
Willow hesitated, presumably gauging the potential dangers of such an action, before she nodded. "All right." She knelt down in front of the vampire. "Spike, I forgive you for the time you held a broken bottle to my throat, and tried to bite me, and kidnapped me, and attacked Xander, and locked me up, and threatened me, and...."
Spike's eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm bad and evil and useless. I hurt the girl."
Willow halted her spiel. "The list thing obviously isn't working, so I'm going to make it simple. Spike, I forgive you for everything bad you've done to me, ever. Does that help? Do you feel any better?"
Spike shook his head. "You forgive me, but she doesn't and he doesn't and they don't and neither do they." He gestured at the room behind her.
Willow turned around. "Um, there's no one there."
"For someone who's supposed to be smart, you're being incredibly dense, Will," Buffy hissed. "That's kind of the whole point."
"Points are bad, especially if they're wooden," Spike noted. "But they're good if you use them on me. I'm bad and evil and I hurt people."
Slowly backing away, Willow turned imploring eyes on Buffy. "How do you get him to stop?"
"That's the problem--you don't. Eventually, he'll run down like a toy with dead batteries, but it doesn't take him long to recharge and start up again. I think this is a really good time to go back upstairs and regroup." Mainly because she felt a migraine rolling up on her. In the relative peace of the kitchen, Buffy dry-swallowed an Advil and stared balefully at Willow. "Do you get what I meant now?"
"Kind of," Willow allowed, "but I still find it almost impossible to believe that you think the only solution is to wave bye-bye to Spike's soul."
"Now, that's not true. I'm perfectly willing to admit that other solutions might exist, only I'm not sure exactly which. A healing spell to accelerate the adjustment process? An amnesia spell so he just plain forgets about all the people he's killed and the lives he's ruined? No, wait, ignore that suggestion. We all know how well that kind of spell turned out last time you tried it."
"That wasn't what I meant. Sure, I could look into magical solutions, but for one thing the effects can be unpredictable, especially on a vampire. Toss in the fact that this one has a soul and you're looking at potential disaster. Angel got his soul back and he eventually recovered; Spike should too. Keep magic out of it and let Spike go at his own pace. Why push things and upset the applecart?"
"Because the applecart is wobbling along on loose wheels." Still, Buffy considered. Willow was probably right. Her attempts at magic sometimes veered wildly, even dangerously, awry. It was best to stick with the tried-and-true curse. Simple and effective: Yes, that was the way to go. All she had to do was convince Willow she was right. "*Please* do it."
Willow firmly shook her head. "I'm going back down to talk to Spike rationally. Only this time, I'll be prepared." She armed herself with a few supplies and ventured downstairs, jaw set.
Her confidence unshaken, Buffy waited patiently. Sure enough, little more than an hour later, Willow emerged from the basement looking considerably paler than before. "Spike cried when I read the newspaper to him. He cried when I talked about England. He even cried when I told him a fairy tale. And it wasn't one of the depressing ones, either. Does anything *not* make him cry?"
"Nope. You should have heard him the other day when Dawn told him they served macaroni and cheese for lunch at school."
Willow sighed, rubbed her forehead, and reached for the Advil.
*****
Late that evening, after making sure Willow and Dawn were both safely tucked away in bed, Buffy crept down to the basement. As always, Spike was there, a quivering, emotional mess.
Buffy crouched beside him and attempted to soothe him as best she could. "You're doing a great job, Spike. Just keep grinding on Willow's nerves as effectively as you're doing now and between us, we'll have her broken down in no time." Her words seemed to help a little, and Spike had fallen into a restless slumber by the time Buffy left the room.
*****
Spike was in fine form. For the third morning in a row, Dawn, Buffy, and Willow stumbled into the kitchen, dark circles under their eyes. The sound of Spike's wailing and crying wasn't exactly conducive to a good night's sleep.
"If he keeps this up, the neighbors are going to start asking if we have a dog," Buffy warned.
"Yeah, and if I get an F on my history test, I want you to remember it was Spike's fault," Dawn declared as she headed for the door.
"Dawn, don't you want to wait another 15 minutes for me so we can go together?" Buffy called.
"Around that noise? No!" Dawn shouted back. "And I'm staying after school again. Don't expect me back till late." The slamming of the door signalled her departure.
Another mournful howl resounded from the basement, causing Willow to jump and drop the milk carton. As she slowly began to wipe up the spill, she looked at Buffy. "I give in. I can't take this anymore."
Buffy shrieked and hugged her so tightly Willow began to gasp for breath. Loosening her grip, Buffy apologized. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just so excited. I knew we were friends for a reason."
"So I can perform horrible, unnatural favors for you?" Willow sighed. "Okay, have you thought about what you'll do afterwards, once the soul is gone?"
"Party?" Willow glared at her. "Sorry. Being serious now. Yes, of course I have. Spike will be like he used to be, and I can handle that. I didn't realize what I had until it was gone. Once I get him back, don't worry, I won't let him escape again. Evil and soulless has its advantages."
"And you should know."
"Indeed I do." Buffy smiled reminiscently. "So, how soon can you get this thing moving?"
"I need to find the computer disk with the curse on it and gather the ingredients for the ritual. It shouldn't be too hard since I can skip the soul-restoration part of the deal and just perform the curse."
"Then it'll all be done by, say, this evening?" Buffy thought out loud, plotting ahead.
"I think so."
"That'll be good. I'll try to get off of work a little early so we can try to get the whole business taken care of before Dawn comes home."
All through the day, Buffy fantasized about the completion of the ritual and the return of the *real* Spike. When work was finally over, she bolted home to find Willow laying out her supplies on a table in the middle of the living room.
"Are you ready?" Buffy demanded.
"Not yet." Willow continued to work, with Buffy anxiously hovering. After Willow turned around and bumped into her for the third time, she heaved an exasperated breath. "Buffy, I need another bat's wing. Can you run out and pick it up for me?"
"Sure."
Willow jotted a few words on a scrap of paper. "Here's the address. I'll call ahead so they know you're coming."
The location was a good 20 minutes away, but Buffy hurried over, collected the bat's wing from the man who answered the door, and returned home to find Willow gathering up the remains of her supplies, which had clearly been used.
"All done. I didn't need the bat's wing."
Buffy dropped the little plastic baggy that contained the item in question. "Why didn't you wait for me? I wanted to see you perform the ritual."
"Because you were making me nervous with all your hovering. I was afraid I'd do something wrong. Don't worry. I've done my part and it's up to you to give Spike his moment of happiness. I'm not getting involved in that end of the deal."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm fully prepared. Think about it: If I was able to make Angel perfectly happy without even trying, I should have no problem doing it for Spike when I *am* trying."
"Then you're going to--" Willow's question was interrupted by the opening of the front door.
"Hey, I'm home." Dawn stopped dead in her tracks, eyeing the remains of the herbs and bones. "This looks magicky. I'm being kept out of the loop again, aren't I? Don't you remember I turn into an insufferable brat whenever that happens?"
"And because we've finally figured that out, we'll be filling you in from now on," Buffy assured her. "Dawn, soon there will be one less soul in this house. Willow just cast the gypsy curse on Spike that will solve all our problems."
"Yeah, but the curse should only kick into effect if Spike feels perfect happiness, and the way he's been lately how do you figure *that* would happen? I mean, he's... oh, God." Dawn turned sheet-pale. "You're going to...." She looked at her sister. "You are, aren't you, Buffy? Ew! I definitely don't want to be around for *that*."
"Exactly. Which is why I suggest that you and Willow go out tonight to see a movie so Spike and I can have some privacy."
Dawn grabbed Willow's arm. "Say no more. Only we're making it a double feature, for sure."
Willow managed a quick wave as Dawn pulled her out the door. "Bye, Buffy. Good luck."
Privacy: exactly what she needed to get the job done. With all due confidence, Buffy strode to the basement to fetch Spike. She simply had to get him out of that dark, grubby room. No way was she doing *it* down there. There wasn't even a bed.
"Spike," Buffy called gently. Even in all her excitement, she kept in mind that the last thing she wanted to do was scare him away.
"Buffy." Spike peeked around the corner of an old cardboard box.
"There you are." Buffy went right over and sat down in front of Spike. He seemed reasonably calm. Buffy almost couldn't believe her luck, catching him in one of his rare moments of lucidity. She looked him in the eye and began her speech. "Spike, listen to me. Now, you've been unhappy lately because your spoilsport soul is tormenting you and making you feel guilty. A good soul wouldn't do that. Wouldn't you feel better if we sent this one back to wherever it was all those years it was gone? Then you could go back to being your old self and we'd *all* be much happier. What do you say?"
Spike blinked at her. "All right."
Well, gaining his cooperation had been easy. A lot easier than she had expected. "Great. One more thing, though. To get the soul to leave, we have to give you just one moment of happiness. Perfect happiness, Spike. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Get my meaning? Good. I think we'd be a lot more comfortable upstairs."
At Buffy's urging, Spike obediently trailed her to the bedroom. Wonderful. Could things be going any more smoothly?
*****
Miraculously, they were still going smoothly half an hour later. Buffy caught her breath and smiled. She and Spike had just spent a very enjoyable, active 30 minutes together. But, like all good things, it had ended and it was time to reap the benefits of her hard work. Buffy reached up and pushed at the vampire's shoulders. "Spike, get off of me. We've done enough." Judging from experience, she thought some weird light should leave his eyes and that was how she'd know when success was officially hers. To do that, though, she had to be able to see his eyes.
After a little more pointed persuasion on her part, Spike slowly rolled away and Buffy peered at him. No weird light yet. Not even a glimmer. Well, the curse probably took a few minutes to kick in. Refusing to panic, Buffy settled down to wait.
And then, to her horror, Spike began to sob great, heart-wrenching sobs. That wasn't supposed to happen, unless she'd missed the flash of light and he was mourning the soul's departure. Only that didn't make sense. The old Spike would be cheering if the thing left. Which meant PodSpike was still with her.
"Spike?" Buffy tentatively poked his arm, praying it wasn't true. "Is something wrong?"
Her worst fears were confirmed when Spike wailed, "I'm not good enough for you. I'm a bad, evil man!"
"No!" Buffy cried in acute frustration. "Where's your perfect happiness? I did everything I did with Angel and more. I even swallowed this time. I know it's not my fault. Why didn't it work?" Trying to tune out Spike's tortured sobs, Buffy thought hard and reached a horrifying realization. "Oh, no! It wasn't the sex that made Angel happy. The afterglow of feeling accepted and loved was what did the trick." Damnit! Despite her best efforts, she had made a huge mistake. She was supposed to have spontaneously declared her love and eternal devotion to Spike for the plan to go off properly. Well, she'd clearly missed her golden opportunity. "Now what do I do?" Buffy wondered aloud.
"Keep trying?" Spike suggested, his tears magically evaporating. "Nothing to lose, right?"
"Huh." Buffy considered. "You have an idea there. I guess something might stick eventually."
Not wasting any time, Spike pounced on her and commenced with enthusiastic kissing. Hmm, thought Buffy. Maybe she'd underestimated SouledSpike, and he wasn't all that different from the old Spike. After all, he'd managed to worm his way into both her home and her bed in under two weeks.
Sure, she'd continue to work at vanquishing the soul, but she might as well have fun along the way. She just hoped Dawn and Willow were *really* late coming home tonight.
*****
Hours later, Spike stirred, yawned, and propped open an eyelid. Buffy appeared to be sleeping peacefully next to him, but still he wondered, had he laid it on just a little thick?
He considered for a moment and then decided, 'Nah.'
Content, Spike closed his eye and went back to sleep, soul and all.
end
(I might eventually write more, but then again, I might not. I think this story has enough closure that I can leave it, yet is still open enough that I could go on. So, we'll see.)