All About Spike - Plain Version
This plain version is for users with very old browers, WebTV, tiny screen resolutions, or very slow internet connections.
All other viewers should use the regular version of the site.
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Spike and Xander sat on Buffy’s couch watching the second Terminator movie. While Buffy patrolled, Xander had begun coming over with different movies to watch with Spike, determined to fill in any blanks in Spike’s memory of how to be a real man. Dawn had let out a snort when she’d heard that, then made it a habit to go to a friend’s house to study and leave the “real men” alone.
They’d started with Animal House, then moved on to Lethal Weapon. So far, Spike decided, to be a real man, you had to get drunk, chase girls, shoot guns, and blow up things.
“This Linda Hamilton bint,” Spike said, pointing to the buff, toned body on the screen, “she seeing anyone?”
“Spike, this movie is a little old. I don’t think she still looks like that.”
“Besides, Buffy is tougher than she is. Heck, Buffy’s tougher than the Terminator.”
“She is?” Spike asked, now ignoring the movie to face Xander.
“She fought a hell god and won. But then Buffy died.”
“Buffy’s dead? She’s what…a zombie? Does explain that whole nothing makes me happy bit of hers.”
“No, no. Willow’s a witch. She brought Buffy back to life.”
Spike studied Xander’s face, trying to decide if his leg was being pulled or not. Nope, the man seemed sincere. With a small sigh, Spike turned his attention back to the television.
“The lot of you lead weird lives,” he huffed.
“Says the vampire who can’t remember anything.”
Spike flinched. He hoped Xander hadn’t seen it, but when he felt Xander’s hand rest on his shoulder, he knew that he had.
“Buffy’s not the only one who’s tough. You’re pretty tough yourself, Spike. You’ll get through this.”
“I was tough?” Spike asked.
“Definitely. Tough and very scary. The first time I saw you, you said you were going to kill Buffy. A few days later, Angel offered you my neck and I was sure I was a goner.”
“Angel? Who’s he?”
Xander looked like he was struggling to think of a way to say something, but ended up shrugging and answering with a “Nobody important.”
“Xander,” Spike said softly.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m...I’m glad we’re friends.”
His face flushed, Xander stood up quickly.
“I’ve got to go, Spike. Anya’s already mad at me. She thinks I’m spending too much time with you. And...and I’ve got to be at work early tomorrow. You know what they say, the early bird doesn’t get fired and earns its wormy paycheck.”
Confused, Spike watched Xander’s abrupt departure. It was strange, almost as if Xander was keeping a secret from him. The next evening, he was even more confused when Xander called him to tell him that he couldn’t come over. With Dawn working on her homework at a friend’s and Buffy out, Spike spent the night alone.
The following night, Xander didn’t even call.
* * *
During the past few days, the residents of the Summers house had settled into a routine. Spike would take a shower around sunrise each morning, then go to bed. Dawn would wake up, go into the bathroom, and then head into Spike’s bedroom where she would yell at him for throwing all the towels on the floor. After yelling, she would return to the bathroom and take her shower. While Dawn dressed for school, Buffy would get up, go into the bathroom, and then march down the hall to pound on Dawn’s door to complain about Dawn using so much of her shampoo and conditioner. Feeling righteous, Buffy would then return to the bathroom to shower.
They did this every morning for four days. On the fifth day, Dawn got up and went into the bathroom. Looking puzzled, Dawn left the bathroom, went into Spike’s bedroom and woke him up.
“Spike!” she yelled.
“What?” came the mumbled reply from under a heap of covers on the bed.
“You didn’t leave towels on the floor.”
“You woke me up to tell me that?” Spike asked, his head finally peeking out.
“I don’t understand. You always leave towels on the floor.”
“Dotoodotoodotoo.” Dawn said as fast as she could.
Spike sat up in bed and looked at Dawn. Dawn, arms folded across her chest, was trying hard not to let the fact that Spike’s curly hair made him look cute and puppyish deter her. At last Spike gave in to Dawn’s patented teenage glare.
“Didn’t take a shower. Didn’t feel like it, okay?”
As Spike tried to snuggle back under the covers, Dawn stared at him in dismay before screaming “Buffy!”
Buffy ran into the room, ten seconds later, still in her Cat and the Fiddle pajamas, carrying an axe. When she didn’t see any threatening demons, she put her axe down and spun to face Dawn.
“Dawn, stop doing that! The last time you screamed, it was because your favorite shirt was wrinkled. Then there was the time you screamed because you got toothpaste in your hair. The time before that...”
“Whatever. Listen, Spike didn’t take a shower. He said he didn’t feel like it.”
Buffy looked at Spike.
“You always feel like taking a shower,” Buffy said.
Spike sighed. Hadn’t he just done this bit a few minutes ago?
“Just don’t know why I bother,” he finally answered. “Still don’t know who I am. Just sit around all day and all night. Don’t have anything to do. Don’t even know what I like to do.”
“Laundry!” shouted Dawn.
“What?” said Spike and Buffy.
“You like to do laundry. And you like to iron. You said it relaxed you.”
“I did?” asked Spike as Buffy stared at Dawn.
“Dawn...” Buffy started, the warning evident in her voice.
“Yes, you did,” Dawn said, interrupting Buffy. “Fortunately, we have whole basketfuls of clothes that someone needs to iron. You can do it, if you want.”
“That’s right nice of you,” Spike said, now with a smile on his face.
“I know. I’m sweet like that,” replied Dawn.
Spike turned to face Buffy, who for some reason looked as if she were choking.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes...yes, I’m fine. I wanted to tell you that...about the ironing.”
Dawn turned her infamous glare onto Buffy while Spike waited patiently for Buffy to continue.
“I just wanted to tell you that...well, you like to iron, but you like to cook, too.”
“Oh,” said Spike, much more cheerful. “Guess I’ll start fixing supper for now on then.”
“Good, that would be um...good.”
Dawn and Buffy left, shutting the door to his bedroom, but even through the door, Spike heard Buffy hiss at Dawn “He is really going to kill us.”
“Yes,” Dawn answered smugly, “But at least when we die, we’ll be neat and well-fed.”
* * *
“So, how do you like it?” Spike asked.
Buffy reached for her water and drank half of it down.
“It’s good, really it is. I just didn’t know you could make chicken so...so spicy,” she replied.
“The secret is to use lots of Tabasco,” Spike said proudly.
Buffy quickly glanced up at his face and saw a smirk. “You knew!” she accused.
“Knew that Dawn and I were setting you up to do the cooking and laundry.”
“Course I knew. Not stupid.”
“Can I have another piece?” interrupted Dawn.
Buffy and Spike stared at Dawn’s plate incredulously, empty except for a few bones.
“That’s impossible,” Spike said. “With all that Tabasco sauce, no human could’ve eaten it.”
“Does that mean I can have all the rest of the chicken, then?” Dawn asked, standing up and helping herself to a chicken leg from the pan at the stove.
“No human,” repeated Spike, awed.
“Spike,” said Buffy softly, “Let me tell you a long story. It all started with some monks.”
* * *
Buffy insisted that Spike accompany her on her patrol that night, so he donned his really cool leather coat and followed her out of the house.
“Where are we going? You giving me a tour of the town?” asked Spike.
“First we’ll walk through some alleys, then we’ll swing by some of the newer cemeteries,” answered Buffy.
“Alleys and cemeteries? Don’t know why the Chamber of Commerce hasn’t snapped you up to serve in their Office of Tourism.”
Buffy kept marching ahead and Spike scrambled to keep up.
“Don’t you need to look stealthy?” he asked as they entered an alley. “Or at least small and helpless instead of acting like a general leading an army?”
A vampire emerged and lunged at Buffy.
“No, not really,” Buffy said as she dodged the attack.
Spike watched as Buffy and the vampire exchanged blows. He had a sneaky suspicion that she was trying to show off. Spike knew you didn’t need to do that many back flips when you fought. He’d seen the movie Rocky with Xander several nights before and Rocky hadn’t done a single one. ‘Course if he had, he might’ve beaten Apollo Creed.
As Spike mused about the strange attraction of Talia Shire, Buffy staked the vampire, causing it to explode into dust.
“Spike. Spike! I’m done here,” Buffy said, shaking Spike from his reverie.
“Right you are. Hey, where’d the other fellow go?”
“Weren’t you paying attention?” With an indignant huff, Buffy continued. “When you stake a vampire, or cut off his head, or use sunlight to burn him, or you use fire to burn him, because vampires are pretty flammable, or even if you...”
“Getting a little queasy here.”
“Anyway, they dust. They go poof.”
“Poof? You mean when I die, I’ll just turn to dust?” Spike asked, visibly upset. “There won’t be a body or anything for folks to remember me by?”
Buffy put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Spike, everyone will remember you. You’re pretty unforgettable.”
“Except for me forgetting myself.”
Buffy sighed. “There is that.”
* * *
According to Buffy, it was unusually quiet by Sunnydale standards. They’d only run into two vampires and one demon, which Buffy killed while Spike watched in fascination and disgust. Buffy tried to be patient, answering his questions with, “I don’t know what her name is so I can’t introduce you”, “The blood dripping from her fangs, kind of a big hint of evilness’, and “No, I’m not going to ask if she has a sister.”
Since the night was so uneventful, Buffy convinced Spike that they should go by his crypt to see if anything jogged his memory. Xander had already been by earlier that week to pick up Spike’s clothes.
When they entered the crypt, Spike became very quiet. He remained silent as he walked around, examining the battered furniture, the television, and the ancient refrigerator.
“Do you recognize anything?” asked Buffy.
Spike walked back and stared at Buffy.
“You do hate me, don’t you?” he asked quietly, startling Buffy.
“Well...duh. Why do you ask?”
“This place is a pit. Don’t think a friend would let another friend live here.”
“Oh, but it’s not that bad,” Buffy said, hurriedly. “Downstairs is much better. There are rugs and the bed is...the bed looks comfy.”
“There’s a downstairs?”
“It’s through there.” Buffy pointed across the room and Spike saw a hatch. “Why don’t you go look while I stay up here and wait,” she continued a little nervously.
Descending, Spike was surprised to see that the downstairs was nicer. It actually looked posh. He wasn’t sure what those grayish lumps were off to the side, but it didn’t distract too much from the general coziness of the room.
Pulling a drawer open, he glanced idly inside, but none of the meager contents rang a bell. A few books lay on a table, so he flipped through them for a moment before putting them aside. It was as he approached the bed that he noticed a box half shoved underneath. Spike picked it up, placed it on the bed, and opened it, then let out a whoosh of breath.
Chains, handcuffs, and sexual paraphernalia were stored inside. Seems his life was a bit more exciting than he’d thought. Sifting through the items, his eyes spied a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read:
Stopped by, but you were out. When I come by
again, you better be naked and tied to the bed.
The note was unsigned.
Shock gave way to a wave of warmth through Spike’s body. He had a lover. He wasn’t alone. Someone loved him.
Now all Spike had to do was find out who his lover was.
* * *
“I don’t think you quite have the concept of the after-school snack down yet, Spike,” said Dawn as she stared at the plate in front of her.
“Well, yes, but....”
“Don’t even think you can get me to start feeding you junk food. Wise to your tricks.”
Dawn sighed, picked up her knife and fork, and began cutting into her pork chop.
Spike sat at the dining room table next to Dawn and watched her chew as he tried to think of an appropriate way to approach the subject of who his lover might be. His secret lover. Spike realized that if he’d been part of a known couple, he would’ve been told by now, so the liaison had to be a secret. To find out the truth, he would need subtlety and finesse.
“Are we having sex?” Spike asked Dawn.
Dawn started choking. Spike pounded her on the back and decided he didn’t do subtle very well.
The coughing went on for quite some time. By the time Dawn managed to get her breath back, Spike had figured out that the two of them probably weren’t having sex.
“What the heck was that?” Dawn asked, her voice still a bit hoarse.
“Um...just wondering. Nothing to get worked up about.”
“Spike, you idiot, I’m fifteen. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex.”
“What? You mean all those nights you’ve been going out studying at a friend’s house, you’ve really been studying at a friend’s house? And I thought I had no life.”
“Shut up, Spike.”
Frustrated, Spike stood up and began pacing back and forth in the kitchen,
“Well, I’m not bloody fifteen. Vampires have sex. Thought it might be with you.”
“Actually not all vampires have sex. Angel doesn’t.”
“Who’s Angel?” asked Spike, since he hadn’t received a decent answer from Xander.
Dawn bit her lip and tried to think of a good way to reply to that question, before finally muttering “Nobody important.”
Still slightly red in the face due to the choking, Dawn said, “Why’d you ask me that...that question, anyway?”
“’Cause you’re the only bird that seems to like me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Really? You saying that Buffy likes me, then?”
“Um...no, you’re right, she doesn’t.”
“Don’t think she like me deep, deep down, do you?”
“Deep, deep down? Nope, deep, deep down, she still doesn’t like you.” Dawn looked at Spike’s crestfallen expression.
“You don’t remember her, but Willow sort of likes you. And Tara does, too. Tara likes everyone.”
“Yep.” Another thought occurred to Dawn. “But, Willow and Tara are both gay.”
“Doubt if they’d be having sex with me, then.” A second later Spike brightened, “Maybe we’re a ménage a trois.”
“Eww. Yuck, Spike. Remember, virgin here. No, I don’t think you and...Oh God; I can’t even say it, but no, no, no. You’d think after being around Anya so much, I’d be immune.”
Dawn saw Spike’s eye light up when she mentioned Anya.
“Don’t even think it, Spike,” she said. “If you were having sex with Anya, everyone would know about it, believe me. Okay, I give up, you were right,” Dawn continued, “I am the only friend you have.”
“Not what I said. Said you were the only bird who liked me. Xander and I are friends.”
Dawn looked at Spike’s face moment before replying hesitantly.
“Well, I’m not too sure if I would call the two of you friends, exactly.”
“No? I thought...” Spike’s entire body seemed to slump under Dawn’s now worried gaze.
Quickly Dawn added, “But you did live together for a while.”
Spike lifted his head to look at her and Dawn grinned and nodded.
“We did? I lived with Xander?”
“Uh-huh. For a couple of months. In his parent’s basement. It was smelly and really small. There wasn’t even a real bed, just a pullout sofa.
Wait a minute, Spike thought. She’d said ‘just a pullout sofa’ as in one pullout sofa. And they’d lived there together for months.
“So,” Spike asked casually, “Why don’t I still live with Xander?”
“You guys used to fight a lot. Then you moved out. Later Xander moved into the apartment with Anya.”
It all made sense, Spike thought. The relationship with his lover had been a secret, it had been conducted far from prying eyes, and there was that sexy dominant tone of the note. Add to that the feeling that Xander was keeping something from him and the puzzle pieces fit. Even the way Anya had strangely spouted off to Spike about Xander’s prowess in bed now fell into place. She’d been staking a claim on Xander and he’d been too bloody stupid to realize it.
Xander was his lover.
Continued in Part 3
Main Site | Plain Text Title Listing | Site Map | Contact