"Gift" Commentary, chapter two.

[agilebrit]

Previous part here.

Chapter Two: Buffy’s Gift

Illyria’s hand went to her face. “I feel so strange.” Spike reached hesitantly for her, and she swatted him and snarled, eyes flashing back to blue. “I do not need your assistance, half-breed.”

Schizoid!Illyria/Fred was not easy to do. Their personalities are so different, and it took me awhile to figure out how to swap them back and forth halfway coherently--and without going a little nuts myself.

Buffy’s head was on a swivel, going back and forth between Spike and Illyria. “What just happened?”

“Silence, Slayer. This is nothing to do with you.”

“Easy there, pet. No need to be rude about it. The Slayer’s got resources and connections, and we can find out just exactly what’s going on.”

Fred’s eyes looked at him from under Illyria’s hair. “Hurry.”
###
Illyria huddled on the bed while Spike rubbed soothing circles on her back and frowned, as Buffy talked on her cell phone. Giles was apparently being...difficult.

Well, of course he is. I'm still not sure I've forgiven him for being so recalcitrant when Illyria first infected Fred and Angel called him for help.

“Look, Giles, I don’t care, okay? Spike was on our team, and as far as I’m concerned he’s still on our team. He hasn’t proven anything different to me yet.” The phone squawked. “He didn’t kidnap me! For God’s sake, you know that if I’d known he was alive I would’ve gone running to him anyway.” Spike’s eyebrow went up at that. “The jury’s still out on Illyria, I guess, but she’s with Spike, so for now I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt. And she got Mohra blood on her, and now she’s gone all wonky. We need to know how to help her.”

Hey, look at me! Writing Buffy being on Spike's side and not being the uber-bitch from hell. I guess I can do it. I love writing phone conversations from just one POV, especially when one or both parties is annoyed with the other.

Spike had given her the lowdown on how Illyria was an Old One who’d taken over Fred’s body, and that Fred appeared to be manifesting again because of the Mohra blood. She relayed the information to Giles and hung up. “He doesn’t know anything offhand. The Old Ones pretty much pre-date humanity; there’s not much about them in his musty old books.”

“What about Mohra blood?”

“That we can find out about. Give him a little while.”

“We might not have a little while. The Senior Partners know where we are now.”

Time constraints.

“I can take care of that too.” She punched a speed-dial button on her mobile. “Will? How quick can you teleport three, um, people to a safe place, and put wards up to protect two of them from some nasties? Can you get on that? Call me back as soon as you’ve got it set up, ‘kay? Thanks.”

Okay, slight deux ex machina here, bringing Buffy in to "fix" some stuff, but it's not outside the scope of the series. They worked together to help each other all the time, and she can do this for him, so I think she would.

“‘Preciate it, Buffy,” Spike said. “More than you know.”

Buffy watched him rubbing Illyria’s back for a minute. “She’s special to you, isn’t she?”

Well, duh.

“Yeah.” His voice was husky, and he didn’t want to look at her.

“Do you love her?”

The bluntness of the question threw him for a second. He hunted his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit one, one-handed. “We’ve been through a lot together, she and I.”

Oh, that doesn't avoid the question at all...He hasn't had time to think about it, not really. But he stays with her, and they've been living in close proximity for seven months. Gotta be some feelings there, right? More than friendship, less than love? Maybe?

“And what about Fred?”

“Fred belonged to Wes. I never had a chance with her, even if I’d made a move.”

Which inconvenient fact pains me no end. I realize this isn't the time or place to get into the whole "Spike and Fred were made for each other!" discussion, but dangit, they were adorable together.

Buffy’s phone warbled out Slayer’s “Reign in Blood.” “Talk to me, Will,” she said, while Spike smiled in quiet delight at her choice of ringtone and stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette. She hung up a minute later. “Ready to go?”

I don't own a cell phone, but I know about ringtones. I looked them up on the www to see if they had any by Slayer and was delighted to find out that they do.

He jumped up, grabbed the weapons bag and the plant, and set them between himself and Illyria. “As we’ll ever be, I suppose.”

I nearly forgot about the plant and the weapons bag. But naturally, they'd want to bring those.

Buffy sat on the bed, grasping Spike’s hand and touching Illyria’s back. They all shimmered and disappeared from the room--

--And reappeared in a large, anonymous warehouse, with crossbows pointed at them in the hands of about five different Slayers, supervised by Giles. “Whoa, guys, stand down!” Buffy said. “Spike’s a friend, and Illyria’s in no shape to cause any trouble.”

Well, she is, actually, but Buffy needs a way to defuse a tense situation.

The weapons lowered, but most of the girls still looked suspicious. Willow gave them a little wave. “I’ve got your wards set up, Buff. They should be safe. Well,” she amended, “as safe as it’s possible to get with an Old One and a vampire in the same room.” She approached Illyria, still huddled on the floor, with Spike hovering protectively. “Wow, her aura’s really messed up.” She frowned. “Is that Fred?”

I also nearly forgot that Willow and Fred had met once.

“In a way,” Spike replied. “You two met?”

“Yeah, once. Boy, I’m getting a whole split-personality vibe here. It would be better if I could get a clearer look at her.”

Spike patted Illyria on the shoulder. “C’mon, pet, upsa dais’. Need to let Red here have a gander at you.”

Illyria raised her head, blue eyes glittering defiantly. “I am Illyria, God-King of the Universe. I need no aid from these human vermin.”

She and Spike have been avoiding humans as much as possible, so her opinion of people hasn't really had a chance to be softened with experience.

“Yeah, that song got old about the time you started looking like Fred again. Won’t hurt, anyway, right?”

“Very well.” She rose to her feet. “Although I do not see how such insects may help.” Her eyes went to brown. “I’m grateful, Willow, more than I can say.” Blue again. “Know this. If you attempt to harm me, I will have your spine as my necklace and your intestines for a belt.”

“Oh, like we haven’t heard that before,” Willow said with an eyeroll.

snerk

As Willow examined Illyria, Buffy and Giles took Spike aside. “You look exhausted, Spike,” Buffy said. “I can’t believe you didn’t come to us before this.”

Like he would have come to you at all if Illyria hadn't forced the issue.

“Yeah, well, battling the Senior Partners’ assassins and trying to keep a lid on Babe the Blue Ox there every day for seven months will take it out of you. Not ashamed to admit I could do with a spot of rest.”

“You can stay with us as long as you need to. In fact, we could use you here with the Council. You’ve got experience training girls, and I bet we could find a place for...whoever she turns out to be. Could probably get the Senior Partners off your backs too.”

Hey, look at me...setting it up for a sequel. Not that I planned a sequel, but best to leave options open, you know?

“Buffy, I’m not entirely sure that’s terribly prudent,” Giles said.

I really didn't want to make Giles a villain in this, but it seems in character to me that he'd be very hesitant about wanting Spike and Illyria to join the team. Especially since they don't really know what the deal was in LA, Team Angel having basically dropped off the map after the alley, in this 'verse, anyway.

Spike gave him a hard glare. “And I’m not sure I want to work with the bloody wanker who refused to help us when all this first happened with Fred to begin with.”

“You did what?” Buffy asked, rounding on Giles.

Uh-oh...

“They were working at Wolfram and Hart. What was I supposed to think?”

He has a point. Angel wasn't exactly Mr. CommunicationGuy with anyone. Let alone Giles.

“That maybe they had a plan? God, Giles, I can’t believe you did that. Especially without talking to any of us first.”

Yes, I think that was a unilateral decision that Giles took. I certainly have no canon evidence that he consulted with anyone else.

“Well, be that as it may, Buffy,” Giles said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them, “this is the situation we’re faced with right now. And I still say that it may not be the best thing to have Spike and Illyria working with us.”

Giles constantly cleaning his glasses is a Bad!Fic cliche, but he did do it a lot. It wouldn't have felt complete without having him do that just once.

She put her hands on her hips and faced him down. “Based on what, exactly?”

And now I use my normal device for when I don't know what to do next with a conversation. I interrupt it and change the subject.

Before he had a chance to answer, Willow came up to them. At the expression on her face, Spike grabbed for his cigarettes and lit one, hiding the tremor in his hands as best he could. “What’s the word, Red?”

And here's me, having Spike using the cigarettes as a crutch again.

“It’s not good, that’s for sure. I don’t think we can help her without destroying one or the other of them.”

And that would be bad. My problem is that I like both Fred and Illyria, and don't want either one of them to die.

“I won’t let you do that.” He blew out a stream of smoke and ran his hand through his hair. “Fred’s been through quite enough, thank you. And so’s Bluebird.”

You tell 'em, Spike.

“But, both of them? Sharing the body? Won’t that be harder on them than sending one of them on to the next place?”

“And I’m supposed to make a Sophie’s Choice as to which one? Bugger that for a game of soldiers, Witch. I won’t kill Fred again, and I won’t send Illyria to a hell dimension.”

I don't know how many people got the reference to Sophie's Choice. And I had to look up the "bugger that" reference, because I knew how the phrase usually starts, but not how it usually ends. But, no, he's not going to do that to his girls. Spike is nothing if not protective.

“I’m sorry, Spike. I don’t have a way of transferring one or the other of them into a new body.”

His chin came up. “Then they’ll have to learn to share, I guess. Your offer still open, Slayer? You can make us useful and make sure the Senior Wankers don’t bother us?”

This also opens up possibilities for future sequels. The fact that I've only written one so far isn't an indication that I've abandoned this storyline.

“Buffy, I’m afraid I must object,” Giles said. “The choice seems clear. Fred was human; Illyria is merely a demon in human form. I realize you have affection for Illyria, Spike--”

The Watcherly point of view. Logical, in a way, but takes out the human dimension.

“Affection? Bloody hell, Watcher, you’re a heartless bastard and make no mistake. Illyria has fought by my side and watched my back for the better part of seven months now. I’m not going to allow her to just be killed out of hand on your say-so.” Spike crossed his arms and stepped between Giles and Illyria.

He'll protect her as best he can, even if it means making an enemy of Giles. I thought the body language was important here.

Giles opened his mouth to say something else, but Buffy silenced him with a furious glare. “Yeah, Spike, we can help you guys out. No problem.” Her mouth quirked up. “Merry Christmas.”

And Buffy overrules Giles. She's come a long way.

“Thanks, luv. Did you tell Bluebird anything, Red?”

“No. I thought it would be better if you did.” They glanced over at Illyria, who sat on the floor, stroking the tulip and singing to it.

I thought that it would be Spike's place to break the news to Fredlyria that they would have to share. He's the one that's been with her since the alley anyway. Having a virtual stranger do it didn't seem right, somehow.

“I’ll go break it to her, then. Seems only proper it should be me.” He tossed his cigarette away and walked over to her, squatting down beside her and putting his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, pet.”

“Spike.” She didn’t look up. “The countenance of the sorceress told all. They are unable to assist us.”

So, she can read faces, a bit. Willow's never been good at hiding her emotions, in any case.

“Not entirely true. But it looks like you’re going to have a split personality.”

“Yes. I look forward to getting to know the Burkle persona better. You were fond of it. What will you do?” She seemed subdued. “Will you abandon me, now that my power has been diminished?”

“What? Why would I do that? Cor, luv, you need me more than ever, now. I don’t abandon people who need me. Thought you knew me better than that.”

Spike is honestly surprised that she thinks he'd do that, although from her POV it would be logical. After all, if the power of a God-King is diminished somehow, then followers start falling away, right? And once again, I have Spike saying "Cor," but my excuse is that I don't do it all the time or even in every fic. I know that really annoys some people, though, although I'm honestly at a loss as to why. His Britishisms, especially in S5 of Angel, got more and more outlandish. I mean, come on. "Gormless tit"? Really. I know it's a "real" Britishism, but "Cor" is mild, compared to that.

“I’m sorry.” Fred’s accent still jarred him. “I didn’t mean...”

I only had so many ways of showing Fred and Illyria switching back and forth, and I thought it was time for Fred to make an appearance. Poor Spike is still a bit confuzzled by the whole situation, and he doesn't always know what to call whoever he's talking to.

“Freddi...Leery...It’s all right. Look, the Council’s going to do what they can to get the Senior Partners to back off, and they have a job for us, if we want it.”

“Purpose is good, right?” she said, with a trembly smile.

Risking a pounding, he pulled her into a hug and spoke into her hair. “Yeah, pet. We’ll get through it. The three of us, together.”

Awww.

The End

In other news, it snowed in Utah today. *shakes fist* It's JUNE. STOP IT.