He sat on his hard cot, staring at the walls with boredom. It was daylight, not much to do. The slayer was at work, the witch was at class, as were the key and a potential. There was absolutely nothing to satisfy his time. Spike's ear twitched as footsteps came clomping down the stairs.
"Hi Spike! I brought you some orange juice and a cupcake, because I thought you might be hungry." Andrew had the meal on a tray and offered it to the vampire. Spike stared into the boys eyes in confusion, then looked down at the tray. "What? Is something wrong?"
"I don't drink orange juice." Spike replied, looking annoyed.
"Well, do you want the cupcake then? I made the icing red. For you." Andrew smiled; Spike looked up to see Andrew nodded emphatically. Spike rolled his eyes and took the cupcake. He placed his hands, with the cupcake, in his lap.
"Thank you." he said quietly.
"You're quite welcome." Andrew smiled once more and lifted the orange juice from the tray, taking a sip. He stood awkwardly, tray in one hand, orange juice in the other, and looked around at the ceiling. Spike looked back to him, puzzled. Andrew caught his glance and the two stared for a moment. "Um... so... how's the cupcake?"
"...I haven't eaten it yet..." Spike replied. Andrew nodded, then continued to stand in the same place. "Would you like to..."
"Sit?" Andrew asked excitedly, sitting on the edge of Spike's cot.
"...leave...?" Spike watched as Andrew stood sadly, and slowly trudged back up the stairs. Spike rested his back on the cold wall and began to eat the cupcake.
"For a moment I thought you and the boy were having a tender moment! Making me jealous little Spikey... now you know better than that!" a soft British voice mumbled. Spike turned his head to see Drusilla standing across the room. "You remember what happened to the last girl you tried to use in order to make me jealous, don't you?"
"First of all, 'Dru', the last girl I did that with..." Spike stood, leaving the cupcake on the cot, "...was the slayer. And nothing happened." Drusilla scoffed and looked at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her. "And secondly, you can't get me to do anything for you anymore!" Drusilla smiled and looked into his eyes.
"I've always been able to make you do things. Ever since that night we met..." she began. Spike turned, walking back towards his cot.
"You aren't Drusilla! You aren't her! You're the bloody first, again!" Spike screamed.
"I was your first? Oh, Spikey..." Drusilla started.
"This isn't working." Spike replied as he sat back on the cot and raised his arms to the chains behind him.
"What are you doing, Spike? Are we playing a game?" Drusilla asked as she stepped toward him. "Are we going to play doctor?"
"Shut up!" Spike locked his left arm into one of the chains, then began to shackle the other.
"How can you do that with only one hand?" Drusilla asked. "Would you like me to help?"
"Well, Dru, considering you can't actually touch anything, it would be more trouble than it's worth. Oh, just like YOU were!" Spike exclaimed, continuing his effort.
"Well, certainly you can't do this alone! You most definately need help to shackle yourself. You were never fully competant..." Drusilla continued.
"ANDREW! I need some HELP!" Spike screamed, continuing his efforts.
"That's right, bring the boy down. The two of you can have another tender moment. Well..." Drusilla examined the chains, "...perhaps MORE tender than last time..." Andrew came a few steps down, hurrying.
"Yes, Spike?" he asked, not fully in the basement.
"Nevermind! GO AWAY!" Spike yelled, glaring at Drusilla.
"Aw, no fun time?" Drusilla watched Andrew trudge sadly back up the steps. "One day the two of you will finally get together..."
"What do you want, Dru?" Spike finally managed to shackle his other arm. He slipped the key into his mouth and spit it across the room. "Now I'm useless to you..."
"You were ALWAYS useless to me, Spike. I just liked having you around. Seeing your face when me and Angelus would be intimate..." Spike grimaced. "Oh, baby... don't worry. Soon, Spike. We shall have more fun, soon."
"Sod off." Drusilla stradled over Spike, giggling a little. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Spike's eyes widened. "Now I KNOW you're not Drusilla. She was never that flexible..."
"Look at the stars!" she exclaimed, still staring at the ceiling.
"Yes, very nice." Spike rolled his eyes. "I usually just call it a ceiling, but whatever you like, Dru." Spike looked to the small window close to the ceiling of the basement. Drusilla followed his gaze and smiled.
"Spike, dear Spike... would you like to go outside? Play in the sunshine?" Drusilla laughed emphatically. "Silly, silly boy." she placed her finger above his lip, tracing the shape. "You're beginning to think that you're human!" Spike bit at her finger, phasing through her non-coporeal essence.
"I need a fag." Drusilla raised an eyebrow. "ANDREW!" Spike screamed; Drusilla smiled and stepped off of Spike.
"I didn't mean it, Spike... I was kidding..." Drusilla slipped back to the other side of the room, watching as Andrew came back down the stairs, then stood before Spike.
"Spike, do you actually NEED me this time or... why are you chained up?" Andrew gave a puzzled look, then noticed the cupcake still on the cot. "Why didn't you eat my cupcake?"
"Andrew, I need a fag." Spike told him.
"WHAT?" Andrew asked. "Well, I'm not... you don't think I... how did you..." Andrew babbled.
"A CIGARETTE." Spike repeated, angrily.
"Oh. Okay. You Englishmen have crazy words for everything. Where are they?" Andrew asked.
"They're in the pocket of my pants..." Spike began. Andrew slowly stepped forward and Spike watched as Drusilla stood over Andrew's shoulder, waving her finger back and forth mockingly. Spike flinched as he realised what Dru was doing. Andrew gave another puzzled look and stopped his activity. "Could you... send down a potential girl to do this, actually?"
"It's okay... I can do it, since I'm here and all..."
"NO! It's just... I... DO AS I SAY!" Andrew jumped back, looked as if he were going to cry, then ran up the stairs. "Send the lesbian!" Spike let out a sigh, and sat relaxedly once more.
"Oh, Spike... you made him cry..." Drusilla mocked once more. "Although, I did enjoy that little escapade... what's that?"
"What?"
"I hear wedding bells!" Drusilla went into an extreme case of insane laughter, Spike merely rolled his eyes. "Don't ignore me, Spike... you'll never again have as good a friend as I was to you."
"I have Buffy!" Spike spit through Drusilla.
"SPIKE! Mind your manners!" Drusilla screamed in shock. "If I could touch you I would stab my finger through your eye and let the worms squiggle through your flesh!"
"You always WERE the charmer." Spike glared and Drusilla smiled.
"So. Buffy's your friend now, is she?"
"A better friend than you could ever dream."
"Is that why she ties you up down here? Leaves your flesh to rot underneath her home? Locks you up in solitary confinement so that the only sounds you can hear are those made by your non-beating heart? Spike, she's not your friend. She will never BE your friend." Drusilla smiled, kneeling next to him. "I was the only friend you ever HAD. Buffy... Buffy wants you dead. She wants to use you in battle, and dispose of you when you get WEAK!"
"You're weak."
"I'm not the one ROTTING in a basement! The SLAYER'S basement, no doubt! You're an abomination! Not even ANGELUS willingly had a soul. You are a disgrace to the vampire WORLD!" Drusilla screamed. "You're weak, and helpless, and nobody will help you clean your wounds because they simply... don't... care."
"They DO care." Spike snarled. "More than you cared... more than I cared for YOU!"
"No, Spike... they don't care. The slayer's got the power, but what do you have?" Drusilla asked quizzically.
"Hope."
"No. You don't have hope. You don't have faith, love, or anything else belonging to the mortal world that you'd like to think you have. You're perfectly human except for two little things. You're easy to kill, quite flammable, in fact... and nobody loves you but ME."
"Buffy loves me."
"No! She thinks you're WEAK!"
"I'm NOT weak! Not anymore! Buffy made me STRONG!" Spike screamed.
"NO! I made you strong! Before I came along you were a weapy little poet, crying about how some skinny twit didn't LOVE you. I gave you life, Spike. I made you what you are."
"She made me what I am. You made me what I was."
"A person can't change, Spike. And that's what you want to be, isn't it? A person?" Drusilla glared. "You can never BE a person. You can never change. You will always... be... weak..." Spike closed his eyes tightly and looked to the wall.
"NO!" Spike waited for Drusilla to continue, but she didn't. He reopened his eyes and looked around the room; Drusilla was gone. Relieved, Spike closed his eyes and rethought the event he had just undergone. "First evil..." he mumbled. "you won't get to me..."
"You know, I did not much care for that woman." Spike heard his own voice. He looked up to see his human self, William the poet, standing before him. "She was a little less... proper than a woman should be..."
"No..."
"And she continuously told you that you are weak. Well, that is just rude. Do you have a word to rhyme with efolgant?" William asked, as he stroked back his longer brown hair. "I have been trying to come up with something, but all I get is failure." Spike struggled against the shackled, attempting to get lose and attack his former self. "What ARE you doing?"
"I plan to KILL you!" Spike exclaimed.
"And how will you do that? Do you plan to break down the wall and collapse the house in order to crush me? Because, I am, once again, non-coporeal." William explained. Spike sat back once more. "Would you like me to fetch someone? Or, have someone bring you a stake, perhaps?"
"You wouldn't let me die..." Spike began.
"I know. But it would be fun to watch you want it." William laughed.
"Go away! Just... just PISS OFF! I'm TIRED of your games!" Spike screamed. William smiled.
"Fine. Just remember, 'Spike': you can never be human. You can never be GOOD! You cannot fully embrace your soul until you embrace ME! It is not YOUR soul. It is MINE! I am William. I am you. I am weak, and so are YOU! Embrace THAT, and then maybe, just maybe... you will become human. Maybe then will she love you. But until you realise this; until you once more become William... you will never again know her touch. And she will never let you see her heart." Spike looked to the floor, tears rolling off.
"Just... just sod off..." he mumbled, sobbing. William chuckled.
"Goodbye, William." William said as he disappeared.
"Stupid Spike..." Andrew continued to chop up vegetables for lunch, "...trying to drive me insane... playing with my feelings..." Andrew stopped and looked out the window for a moment. "Maybe he knows that..."
"Knows what?" Andrew swiftly turned around to see Kennedy standing behind him. Andrew let out a sigh and replied.
"Knows... uhm... nothing." he stared at Kennedy until she quietly left the room, at which point he returned to preparing the meal. He placed them in the water boiling over the stove and began to look through the cupboards for something else.
"That smells pretty good." a female's voice told him. He nodded.
"Thank you!" he turned, giving another confused look. "Are... are you a potential?"
"Well... not exactly." she replied, smiling.
"Then... if you're not a potential... who are you? Have we... have we met before?"
"Well... my name's Katrina." she replied, giving a short wave.
"Katrina... I know that name..."
"Yeah, I thought you would. Of course... I also thought you'd recognise me."
"Well, can't win 'em all." Andrew shrugged his shoulders and returned to searching the cupboards.
"I'm the girl that you and Warren and... the short guy..."
"Jonathan! He was a cutie." Andrew corrected her.
"Yeah. Jonathan. I'm the girl that you three... killed." Andrew hit his head hard on the cupboard as he jumped in shock. He slowly stood, turning and rubbing his head.
"Ka... Katrina?" Andrew began. "Oh... my... It's THE FIRST! AH! I have to get someone! Spike! Spike!" Andrew ran toward the door to the basement.
"I wouldn't go down there. He's having a moment right now... it's a little wet."
"Ooh..."
"No, not good wet." Andrew made a disappointed face. "Now, Andrew. If I had killed YOU..."
"You won't, will you?" Andrew asked nervously.
"I can't touch you, of course I won't, moron." Katrina replied. "Jesus! Were all THREE of you guys morons?"
"Well... we did commit murder... and try to defeat a slayer..." Andrew commented.
"Do you not CARE that you killed me?" Katrina asked angrily.
"I DO care! I just... I can't do anything about it. You're dead, and I'm sorry. But I'm, TECHNICALLY, not the one that killed you. Warren put the spell on you, Warren tried to rape you, and Warren hit you on the head, killing you. Jonathan and I really had NO part in that. But I AM sorry about the dying thing. How is it?"
"It's Hell, bitch-boy!" Katrina screamed. "Well... if you don't care about killing me..."
"I didn't kill you..." Andrew replied.
"Then maybe you'll care..." Katrina morphed into Jonathan. "...about killing me. Did it make you feel like a big man?" he asked. "Did it make you part of the group? Part of Buffy's group? You think they'll ever REALLY let you in? After what you've done to ME? To Katrina?"
"I didn't kill Katrina."
"But you did kill ME!"
"I sure did." Andrew replied. He crossed his arms. "Well... it was nice seeing you again, Jonathan. Drop by never." Andrew turned back and began rifling through the cupboards once more.
"What the Hell? You seemed to care more about killing the girl you didn't kill! Don't you care about ME anymore, Andrew?" Jonathan asked, clutching his chest.
"I DO care, Jonathan. I will always care. But I've repented for my sins. I'm trying to make up for everything, and wherever the REAL Jonathan is... he knows this... he may not forgive me, but he shouldn't have to." Andrew stood before the first. "I may never be able to make up for what I did to him, but I'm gonna try! And you can't do ANYTHING ABOUT IT!" Andrew punched through Jonathan's stomach.
"Andrew, I..."
"That's right, Jonathan-slash-the First! I'm not afraid of you anymore!" Andrew stood tall and crossed his arms defiantly. "That's right, not afraid."
"Oh, I think you ARE." Jonathan smiled evily. The over timer went off.
"Excuse me, Jonathan-slash-the First, but my croissants are ready, and I'd prefer to eat them without dead people hanging about." Andrew walked away from the First.
"Damnit." Jonathan disperced, leaving Andrew alone in the kitchen.
"Ha! I showed you! Never again will you try and use me like that! I..." Andrew held a spatula above his head in triumph as Giles wandered in, noticed, and promptly wandered back out. "...I'm not retarded! Just... just do you know..."
"I swear... that boy become more moronic every time I see him..." Giles mumbled to himself.
"And you call yourself a teacher." Giles took off his glasses, rubbing his forehead, and he slowly turned.
"Actually, I call myself a watcher." he cleaned his glasses, squinting at the figure speaking to him. "Xander?" he placed his glasses back on his face.
"Not quite. You might remember me as..." he started.
"Ben."
"Or, sometimes, Glory. How you been doing Mr. GIles? Well, I presume? And how's Dawn?"
"Don't touch Dawn." Giles chuckled. "Sorry... forgot that you can't!" Giles sat down in a chair and flipped open a paper.
"Oh, Mr. Giles... what are you going to do when someone tells Buffy what you did to me?"
"I don't believe I'll do a lot. I did what was needed. She may not have done it, but she must have figured out that one of the rest of us did it. Otherwise Glory would be running rampant." Giles rolled his eyes.
"Maybe she thought I died naturally." Ben replied, leaning over Giles's shoulder.
"Yes, because GODS often die of old age in the span of four months." Giles continued to read.
"You're quite witty for a killer. Have you ever thought of stand up?" Ben asked.
"You're not getting to me. I know who you are, I know what you are, and you aren't going to drive me insane by pretending to be a boy who deserved his death. Leave now. You're annoying." Giles flipped his paper up, trying to ignore the first.
"Well. You didn't care for my death?" Ben asked. "I can't bother you in any way?"
"No." Giles placed the paper down on his lap, revealing not Ben, but Jenny.
"How about me?" Jenny asked, leaning in toward Giles. "Did you care for me at all?" Giles stood, throwing the paper through Jenny.
"You bastard! You have no right to defile Jenny in that manner!" he screamed.
"Oh, come on, Rupert. You know you like seeing me. Even if it's an evil me." Jenny smiled. "So, tell me... what was it like when you found my dead body in your bed?" Giles turned and walked away; Jenny followed. "Come on, Rupert. I mean, I was there, but I want to hear it from your perspective. Was it as funny to you as it was to me? Me, lying on your bed, surrounded by rose petals. Classical music playing..."
"STOP!" tears rolled down Giles's face. "You can't do this! You don't know! You aren't her."
"Wouldn't you love to get back at Angel for doing that to me? For snapping my neck?"
"Stop..."
"Do you know how much I screamed that night?"
"Stop."
"If I hadn't been wearing heels... I might have had a chance to get away..." Jenny continued.
"Stop! This isn't funny! Whatever sick and twisted thing you're trying to accomplish by menacing me like this isn't going to work. I won't turn against Buffy, and I will destroy you!" Giles screamed.
"Rupert! The hostility. I haven't seen you dislike something so much since I hooked up the library computer. Well... maybe you've hated something else that much, but whatever. Not really my problem." Jenny laughed.
"Who do you think you are..."
"Jenny Calendar. And you?"
"You can't play with people's emotions like this!"
"How about manipulate? Tamper?" Jenny smiled. "You're getting crankier in your old age, Rupert. Too bad we can't get cranky together..."
"No..."
"You realise... that if... YOU hadn't cut off communication with me... I could've had you and Willow help me translate... and... and the whole process... you know, of me dying... might never have happened." Jenny pointed out. Giles looked at her sharply.
"That isn't true. Angelus would've brutally slaughtered you no matter what." Giles replied. Jenny shrugged her shoulders.
"That's quite true. But maybe we could've had... at least a night together." Jenny placed her hand over his mouth and slowly slid her hand down. "Do you know how much I longed for your touch? How much I just wanted to be with you? And you wouldn't even look me in the eye!"
"Because you had betrayed..."
"NO! I was doing my job! I was watching Angel like you were watching Buffy, and somehow both of us lost them! Then we lost each other. And you lost me. I still watch you, you know."
"Y... you..." Giles stuttered.
"I watch you, playing opera in the background. I watch you go through your day. Watch you, so depressedly, as you realise that every woman you love leaves you. Me. Joyce. Olivia. We all die. And you know why that is?"
"Because it's your time."
"Because we don't love YOU. You love US, but do we return that love? No."
"Don't lie, Jenny. You loved me as much as I loved you. Joyce and I were NEVER in love, and Olivia... Olivia was in love with someone else."
"So. You loved me, and Olivia... but you slept with Joyce?" Jenny asked, pouting her lips. "Why is it that you'll give love to others, but not the ones you love?"
"Who I've slept with is none of your business."
"Fine." Jenny smiled. "I'll leave then. I'll be waiting, Rupert."
"I expect that much."
"Waiting. And watching." Giles burst into tears as Jenny dispersed.
"Hi Spike! I brought you some orange juice and a cupcake, because I thought you might be hungry." Andrew had the meal on a tray and offered it to the vampire. Spike stared into the boys eyes in confusion, then looked down at the tray. "What? Is something wrong?"
"I don't drink orange juice." Spike replied, looking annoyed.
"Well, do you want the cupcake then? I made the icing red. For you." Andrew smiled; Spike looked up to see Andrew nodded emphatically. Spike rolled his eyes and took the cupcake. He placed his hands, with the cupcake, in his lap.
"Thank you." he said quietly.
"You're quite welcome." Andrew smiled once more and lifted the orange juice from the tray, taking a sip. He stood awkwardly, tray in one hand, orange juice in the other, and looked around at the ceiling. Spike looked back to him, puzzled. Andrew caught his glance and the two stared for a moment. "Um... so... how's the cupcake?"
"...I haven't eaten it yet..." Spike replied. Andrew nodded, then continued to stand in the same place. "Would you like to..."
"Sit?" Andrew asked excitedly, sitting on the edge of Spike's cot.
"...leave...?" Spike watched as Andrew stood sadly, and slowly trudged back up the stairs. Spike rested his back on the cold wall and began to eat the cupcake.
"For a moment I thought you and the boy were having a tender moment! Making me jealous little Spikey... now you know better than that!" a soft British voice mumbled. Spike turned his head to see Drusilla standing across the room. "You remember what happened to the last girl you tried to use in order to make me jealous, don't you?"
"First of all, 'Dru', the last girl I did that with..." Spike stood, leaving the cupcake on the cot, "...was the slayer. And nothing happened." Drusilla scoffed and looked at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her. "And secondly, you can't get me to do anything for you anymore!" Drusilla smiled and looked into his eyes.
"I've always been able to make you do things. Ever since that night we met..." she began. Spike turned, walking back towards his cot.
"You aren't Drusilla! You aren't her! You're the bloody first, again!" Spike screamed.
"I was your first? Oh, Spikey..." Drusilla started.
"This isn't working." Spike replied as he sat back on the cot and raised his arms to the chains behind him.
"What are you doing, Spike? Are we playing a game?" Drusilla asked as she stepped toward him. "Are we going to play doctor?"
"Shut up!" Spike locked his left arm into one of the chains, then began to shackle the other.
"How can you do that with only one hand?" Drusilla asked. "Would you like me to help?"
"Well, Dru, considering you can't actually touch anything, it would be more trouble than it's worth. Oh, just like YOU were!" Spike exclaimed, continuing his effort.
"Well, certainly you can't do this alone! You most definately need help to shackle yourself. You were never fully competant..." Drusilla continued.
"ANDREW! I need some HELP!" Spike screamed, continuing his efforts.
"That's right, bring the boy down. The two of you can have another tender moment. Well..." Drusilla examined the chains, "...perhaps MORE tender than last time..." Andrew came a few steps down, hurrying.
"Yes, Spike?" he asked, not fully in the basement.
"Nevermind! GO AWAY!" Spike yelled, glaring at Drusilla.
"Aw, no fun time?" Drusilla watched Andrew trudge sadly back up the steps. "One day the two of you will finally get together..."
"What do you want, Dru?" Spike finally managed to shackle his other arm. He slipped the key into his mouth and spit it across the room. "Now I'm useless to you..."
"You were ALWAYS useless to me, Spike. I just liked having you around. Seeing your face when me and Angelus would be intimate..." Spike grimaced. "Oh, baby... don't worry. Soon, Spike. We shall have more fun, soon."
"Sod off." Drusilla stradled over Spike, giggling a little. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Spike's eyes widened. "Now I KNOW you're not Drusilla. She was never that flexible..."
"Look at the stars!" she exclaimed, still staring at the ceiling.
"Yes, very nice." Spike rolled his eyes. "I usually just call it a ceiling, but whatever you like, Dru." Spike looked to the small window close to the ceiling of the basement. Drusilla followed his gaze and smiled.
"Spike, dear Spike... would you like to go outside? Play in the sunshine?" Drusilla laughed emphatically. "Silly, silly boy." she placed her finger above his lip, tracing the shape. "You're beginning to think that you're human!" Spike bit at her finger, phasing through her non-coporeal essence.
"I need a fag." Drusilla raised an eyebrow. "ANDREW!" Spike screamed; Drusilla smiled and stepped off of Spike.
"I didn't mean it, Spike... I was kidding..." Drusilla slipped back to the other side of the room, watching as Andrew came back down the stairs, then stood before Spike.
"Spike, do you actually NEED me this time or... why are you chained up?" Andrew gave a puzzled look, then noticed the cupcake still on the cot. "Why didn't you eat my cupcake?"
"Andrew, I need a fag." Spike told him.
"WHAT?" Andrew asked. "Well, I'm not... you don't think I... how did you..." Andrew babbled.
"A CIGARETTE." Spike repeated, angrily.
"Oh. Okay. You Englishmen have crazy words for everything. Where are they?" Andrew asked.
"They're in the pocket of my pants..." Spike began. Andrew slowly stepped forward and Spike watched as Drusilla stood over Andrew's shoulder, waving her finger back and forth mockingly. Spike flinched as he realised what Dru was doing. Andrew gave another puzzled look and stopped his activity. "Could you... send down a potential girl to do this, actually?"
"It's okay... I can do it, since I'm here and all..."
"NO! It's just... I... DO AS I SAY!" Andrew jumped back, looked as if he were going to cry, then ran up the stairs. "Send the lesbian!" Spike let out a sigh, and sat relaxedly once more.
"Oh, Spike... you made him cry..." Drusilla mocked once more. "Although, I did enjoy that little escapade... what's that?"
"What?"
"I hear wedding bells!" Drusilla went into an extreme case of insane laughter, Spike merely rolled his eyes. "Don't ignore me, Spike... you'll never again have as good a friend as I was to you."
"I have Buffy!" Spike spit through Drusilla.
"SPIKE! Mind your manners!" Drusilla screamed in shock. "If I could touch you I would stab my finger through your eye and let the worms squiggle through your flesh!"
"You always WERE the charmer." Spike glared and Drusilla smiled.
"So. Buffy's your friend now, is she?"
"A better friend than you could ever dream."
"Is that why she ties you up down here? Leaves your flesh to rot underneath her home? Locks you up in solitary confinement so that the only sounds you can hear are those made by your non-beating heart? Spike, she's not your friend. She will never BE your friend." Drusilla smiled, kneeling next to him. "I was the only friend you ever HAD. Buffy... Buffy wants you dead. She wants to use you in battle, and dispose of you when you get WEAK!"
"You're weak."
"I'm not the one ROTTING in a basement! The SLAYER'S basement, no doubt! You're an abomination! Not even ANGELUS willingly had a soul. You are a disgrace to the vampire WORLD!" Drusilla screamed. "You're weak, and helpless, and nobody will help you clean your wounds because they simply... don't... care."
"They DO care." Spike snarled. "More than you cared... more than I cared for YOU!"
"No, Spike... they don't care. The slayer's got the power, but what do you have?" Drusilla asked quizzically.
"Hope."
"No. You don't have hope. You don't have faith, love, or anything else belonging to the mortal world that you'd like to think you have. You're perfectly human except for two little things. You're easy to kill, quite flammable, in fact... and nobody loves you but ME."
"Buffy loves me."
"No! She thinks you're WEAK!"
"I'm NOT weak! Not anymore! Buffy made me STRONG!" Spike screamed.
"NO! I made you strong! Before I came along you were a weapy little poet, crying about how some skinny twit didn't LOVE you. I gave you life, Spike. I made you what you are."
"She made me what I am. You made me what I was."
"A person can't change, Spike. And that's what you want to be, isn't it? A person?" Drusilla glared. "You can never BE a person. You can never change. You will always... be... weak..." Spike closed his eyes tightly and looked to the wall.
"NO!" Spike waited for Drusilla to continue, but she didn't. He reopened his eyes and looked around the room; Drusilla was gone. Relieved, Spike closed his eyes and rethought the event he had just undergone. "First evil..." he mumbled. "you won't get to me..."
"You know, I did not much care for that woman." Spike heard his own voice. He looked up to see his human self, William the poet, standing before him. "She was a little less... proper than a woman should be..."
"No..."
"And she continuously told you that you are weak. Well, that is just rude. Do you have a word to rhyme with efolgant?" William asked, as he stroked back his longer brown hair. "I have been trying to come up with something, but all I get is failure." Spike struggled against the shackled, attempting to get lose and attack his former self. "What ARE you doing?"
"I plan to KILL you!" Spike exclaimed.
"And how will you do that? Do you plan to break down the wall and collapse the house in order to crush me? Because, I am, once again, non-coporeal." William explained. Spike sat back once more. "Would you like me to fetch someone? Or, have someone bring you a stake, perhaps?"
"You wouldn't let me die..." Spike began.
"I know. But it would be fun to watch you want it." William laughed.
"Go away! Just... just PISS OFF! I'm TIRED of your games!" Spike screamed. William smiled.
"Fine. Just remember, 'Spike': you can never be human. You can never be GOOD! You cannot fully embrace your soul until you embrace ME! It is not YOUR soul. It is MINE! I am William. I am you. I am weak, and so are YOU! Embrace THAT, and then maybe, just maybe... you will become human. Maybe then will she love you. But until you realise this; until you once more become William... you will never again know her touch. And she will never let you see her heart." Spike looked to the floor, tears rolling off.
"Just... just sod off..." he mumbled, sobbing. William chuckled.
"Goodbye, William." William said as he disappeared.
"Stupid Spike..." Andrew continued to chop up vegetables for lunch, "...trying to drive me insane... playing with my feelings..." Andrew stopped and looked out the window for a moment. "Maybe he knows that..."
"Knows what?" Andrew swiftly turned around to see Kennedy standing behind him. Andrew let out a sigh and replied.
"Knows... uhm... nothing." he stared at Kennedy until she quietly left the room, at which point he returned to preparing the meal. He placed them in the water boiling over the stove and began to look through the cupboards for something else.
"That smells pretty good." a female's voice told him. He nodded.
"Thank you!" he turned, giving another confused look. "Are... are you a potential?"
"Well... not exactly." she replied, smiling.
"Then... if you're not a potential... who are you? Have we... have we met before?"
"Well... my name's Katrina." she replied, giving a short wave.
"Katrina... I know that name..."
"Yeah, I thought you would. Of course... I also thought you'd recognise me."
"Well, can't win 'em all." Andrew shrugged his shoulders and returned to searching the cupboards.
"I'm the girl that you and Warren and... the short guy..."
"Jonathan! He was a cutie." Andrew corrected her.
"Yeah. Jonathan. I'm the girl that you three... killed." Andrew hit his head hard on the cupboard as he jumped in shock. He slowly stood, turning and rubbing his head.
"Ka... Katrina?" Andrew began. "Oh... my... It's THE FIRST! AH! I have to get someone! Spike! Spike!" Andrew ran toward the door to the basement.
"I wouldn't go down there. He's having a moment right now... it's a little wet."
"Ooh..."
"No, not good wet." Andrew made a disappointed face. "Now, Andrew. If I had killed YOU..."
"You won't, will you?" Andrew asked nervously.
"I can't touch you, of course I won't, moron." Katrina replied. "Jesus! Were all THREE of you guys morons?"
"Well... we did commit murder... and try to defeat a slayer..." Andrew commented.
"Do you not CARE that you killed me?" Katrina asked angrily.
"I DO care! I just... I can't do anything about it. You're dead, and I'm sorry. But I'm, TECHNICALLY, not the one that killed you. Warren put the spell on you, Warren tried to rape you, and Warren hit you on the head, killing you. Jonathan and I really had NO part in that. But I AM sorry about the dying thing. How is it?"
"It's Hell, bitch-boy!" Katrina screamed. "Well... if you don't care about killing me..."
"I didn't kill you..." Andrew replied.
"Then maybe you'll care..." Katrina morphed into Jonathan. "...about killing me. Did it make you feel like a big man?" he asked. "Did it make you part of the group? Part of Buffy's group? You think they'll ever REALLY let you in? After what you've done to ME? To Katrina?"
"I didn't kill Katrina."
"But you did kill ME!"
"I sure did." Andrew replied. He crossed his arms. "Well... it was nice seeing you again, Jonathan. Drop by never." Andrew turned back and began rifling through the cupboards once more.
"What the Hell? You seemed to care more about killing the girl you didn't kill! Don't you care about ME anymore, Andrew?" Jonathan asked, clutching his chest.
"I DO care, Jonathan. I will always care. But I've repented for my sins. I'm trying to make up for everything, and wherever the REAL Jonathan is... he knows this... he may not forgive me, but he shouldn't have to." Andrew stood before the first. "I may never be able to make up for what I did to him, but I'm gonna try! And you can't do ANYTHING ABOUT IT!" Andrew punched through Jonathan's stomach.
"Andrew, I..."
"That's right, Jonathan-slash-the First! I'm not afraid of you anymore!" Andrew stood tall and crossed his arms defiantly. "That's right, not afraid."
"Oh, I think you ARE." Jonathan smiled evily. The over timer went off.
"Excuse me, Jonathan-slash-the First, but my croissants are ready, and I'd prefer to eat them without dead people hanging about." Andrew walked away from the First.
"Damnit." Jonathan disperced, leaving Andrew alone in the kitchen.
"Ha! I showed you! Never again will you try and use me like that! I..." Andrew held a spatula above his head in triumph as Giles wandered in, noticed, and promptly wandered back out. "...I'm not retarded! Just... just do you know..."
"I swear... that boy become more moronic every time I see him..." Giles mumbled to himself.
"And you call yourself a teacher." Giles took off his glasses, rubbing his forehead, and he slowly turned.
"Actually, I call myself a watcher." he cleaned his glasses, squinting at the figure speaking to him. "Xander?" he placed his glasses back on his face.
"Not quite. You might remember me as..." he started.
"Ben."
"Or, sometimes, Glory. How you been doing Mr. GIles? Well, I presume? And how's Dawn?"
"Don't touch Dawn." Giles chuckled. "Sorry... forgot that you can't!" Giles sat down in a chair and flipped open a paper.
"Oh, Mr. Giles... what are you going to do when someone tells Buffy what you did to me?"
"I don't believe I'll do a lot. I did what was needed. She may not have done it, but she must have figured out that one of the rest of us did it. Otherwise Glory would be running rampant." Giles rolled his eyes.
"Maybe she thought I died naturally." Ben replied, leaning over Giles's shoulder.
"Yes, because GODS often die of old age in the span of four months." Giles continued to read.
"You're quite witty for a killer. Have you ever thought of stand up?" Ben asked.
"You're not getting to me. I know who you are, I know what you are, and you aren't going to drive me insane by pretending to be a boy who deserved his death. Leave now. You're annoying." Giles flipped his paper up, trying to ignore the first.
"Well. You didn't care for my death?" Ben asked. "I can't bother you in any way?"
"No." Giles placed the paper down on his lap, revealing not Ben, but Jenny.
"How about me?" Jenny asked, leaning in toward Giles. "Did you care for me at all?" Giles stood, throwing the paper through Jenny.
"You bastard! You have no right to defile Jenny in that manner!" he screamed.
"Oh, come on, Rupert. You know you like seeing me. Even if it's an evil me." Jenny smiled. "So, tell me... what was it like when you found my dead body in your bed?" Giles turned and walked away; Jenny followed. "Come on, Rupert. I mean, I was there, but I want to hear it from your perspective. Was it as funny to you as it was to me? Me, lying on your bed, surrounded by rose petals. Classical music playing..."
"STOP!" tears rolled down Giles's face. "You can't do this! You don't know! You aren't her."
"Wouldn't you love to get back at Angel for doing that to me? For snapping my neck?"
"Stop..."
"Do you know how much I screamed that night?"
"Stop."
"If I hadn't been wearing heels... I might have had a chance to get away..." Jenny continued.
"Stop! This isn't funny! Whatever sick and twisted thing you're trying to accomplish by menacing me like this isn't going to work. I won't turn against Buffy, and I will destroy you!" Giles screamed.
"Rupert! The hostility. I haven't seen you dislike something so much since I hooked up the library computer. Well... maybe you've hated something else that much, but whatever. Not really my problem." Jenny laughed.
"Who do you think you are..."
"Jenny Calendar. And you?"
"You can't play with people's emotions like this!"
"How about manipulate? Tamper?" Jenny smiled. "You're getting crankier in your old age, Rupert. Too bad we can't get cranky together..."
"No..."
"You realise... that if... YOU hadn't cut off communication with me... I could've had you and Willow help me translate... and... and the whole process... you know, of me dying... might never have happened." Jenny pointed out. Giles looked at her sharply.
"That isn't true. Angelus would've brutally slaughtered you no matter what." Giles replied. Jenny shrugged her shoulders.
"That's quite true. But maybe we could've had... at least a night together." Jenny placed her hand over his mouth and slowly slid her hand down. "Do you know how much I longed for your touch? How much I just wanted to be with you? And you wouldn't even look me in the eye!"
"Because you had betrayed..."
"NO! I was doing my job! I was watching Angel like you were watching Buffy, and somehow both of us lost them! Then we lost each other. And you lost me. I still watch you, you know."
"Y... you..." Giles stuttered.
"I watch you, playing opera in the background. I watch you go through your day. Watch you, so depressedly, as you realise that every woman you love leaves you. Me. Joyce. Olivia. We all die. And you know why that is?"
"Because it's your time."
"Because we don't love YOU. You love US, but do we return that love? No."
"Don't lie, Jenny. You loved me as much as I loved you. Joyce and I were NEVER in love, and Olivia... Olivia was in love with someone else."
"So. You loved me, and Olivia... but you slept with Joyce?" Jenny asked, pouting her lips. "Why is it that you'll give love to others, but not the ones you love?"
"Who I've slept with is none of your business."
"Fine." Jenny smiled. "I'll leave then. I'll be waiting, Rupert."
"I expect that much."
"Waiting. And watching." Giles burst into tears as Jenny dispersed.