Part One of the Forgiven Series
By Ariel
Author's Note: This story is set after the events of "Amends", and takes a few liberties with the characters I'm not particularly fond of. It's my first fanfic, so please be nice! Any comments, criticisms, or requests please send to The lyrics are from "Building a Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan, from her album 'Surfacing'. Building a Mystery made me think of Spike the moment I heard it.
Disclaimer: I would probably sell something, my soul, my aura, whatever the hell I have to own Angel and Spike for one night. But I don't own any of them, so I'm stuck deeply coveting Joss. If he would just name the price...
Thanks to Duchess reading for me, and for liking it. Thanks to Ike for reading it and constantly reminding me of the failures in my personality.
And thank *you* for reading it at all.
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The intro to "Building a mystery" plays through out fading up at the end of the scene
Shot of Spike in a bathroom at some musty building, staring at his reflection in the mirror (which doesn't exist). The view slowly pans around from one side, around his back, to his other profile. His normally pale ivory skin is grey and death like, none of its beautiful translucence. His eyes are bottomless, empty of feeling. As he watches his lack of reflection, his mouth starts to twist into a grimace of pain, and he raises his hands up and brings them smashing down on the mirror. The camera pans down to where his bloody hands grab a bag from the floor and we see his back leaving the empty building, he flings the bag into the beat up car and drives away. The music fades up...
You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side is light
And the Vampires roam
You stretch your astowear
And your suicide poem
And a cross from a faith
That died before Jesus came
Building a Mystery...
Music dies
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This is ridiculous, thought Buffy, sweeping the brief amount of hall and stairway with her eyes before turning back into her room and closing the door noiselessly behind her. Mom knows about me slaying, so why am I sneaking around? Ever since I ran away, it's felt like I don't belong here. Everyone's 'accepted' me back, but I'm not who I was. It doesn't fit anymore.
I've even started crawling out in the middle of the night. Not to patrol, I've got no problems telling mom about that. But on evenings "off-duty" it's like I've got selective insomnia. So I go prowling the streets looking for trouble. And avoiding Angel. Is it possible to both at once? Buffy smiled bitterly.
He loves me. And I loved him. It's just the blood sucking monster thing that seemed to be a problem. Like everything else in my life. Buffy sighed and pulled on her leather boots.
But I don't need to tell Mom what I'm doing. It's my life.
Zip. On with the black skirt.
And after all, what she doesn't know, she won't hassle me about, Buffy thought. And I'd prefer it if everyone would stop nagging me for a while. Even Willow won't let up. 'Shouldn't you get more sleep Buffy?' 'Couldn't you eat just a little more?' Buffy silently mouthed the phrases of her friends and watcher to herself in the mirror. 'Why so glum, Buff? You look like a particularly rainy Monday morning. ' The last was from Xander. 'I can't explain it, it's nothing in particular, you wouldn't understand'. My excuses are running out.
Why can't they just let me breathe?
Standing back from the mirror, Buffy admired her reflection. Dressed head to toe in black, her blonde hair stood out like a beacon.
"Not bad, even if I do look like a Goth." Buffy breathed. But then that's pretty appropriate.
Hefting herself out of the window, Buffy was on the ground and walking down her street in seconds.
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Angel paced the floor of his mansion, restless and tense. Why do I feel so apprehensive? Ever since I got up, something's been wrong. I should go find...someone. Not Giles, he'd just point a stake at my chest, and Buffy... Well. I don't want to go through that right now. Images of the slayer flashed through his mind, but he pushed them away again. Ignoring the pain caused by his frustrated love for her. Something's wrong. Something feels...it's not Buffy, well, it's always Buffy, but when have I felt like this before...
Frustrated, Angel's game face showed, and then slipped away again. Let it come, he thought, whatever it is.
A hissing voice jerked him round instantly.
"Waiting up for me Angelus?"
The body of Jenny Calendar addressed him with eyes that flashed red for a second. She stood in the corner of the room, but Angel could feel the sear from her gaze.
"What do you want with me?" He asked reflexively. Fear surged through him, every muscle in his body stiffened on seeing her. She was walking towards him, and he geared himself for the pain. But it did not come, yet...
"Didn't fry yourself after all, I see. Heard a little cloud cover saved the lover boy." As she spoke, Jenny's possessed body circled Angel, her voice full of hatred.
"Well?" She stopped behind him.
Angel, shoulders tight, echoed testily "What do you want?"
Jenny stood on tiptoes and stretched her head up. Gently, she licked the back of Angel's neck. He tried to jerk around, surprised, but her hands grabbed his arms and locked them there with a super human strength. Her mouth millimeters away from his neck, she whispered:
"Just came to do a little research, that's all. I see you haven't fucked her yet. I can taste your frustration. Your need... "
Jenny rubbed herself lightly against Angel's back, a smile playing at her lips.
"Things a bit barren on the love front? Is abstinence fun?"
Angel just stood still, teeth clenched, staring at the opposite wall.
A look of irritation crossed Jenny's face. She mused out loud.
"So, Angel won't kill the Slayer? Well, maybe Angelus will do the job for us..."
As she spoke, Jenny's body quivered and changed, dissolving into the form of the blonde girl so beloved of Angel. Clothed all in the black she had put on earlier, a pointed smile of pure evil spread briefly over the familiar face, then replaced itself with a look of anguish. The First dropped her arms to her sides, and spoke in Buffy's voice.
"Angel?"
Now Angel whipped around, saying despite himself
"Buffy?!"
The figure replied, the empty eyes taking on an expression of disbelief.
"Angel...why...what...How could you...Oh God. I loved you." Buffy's body was quivering; tears flowed from her eyes. There was a slash across one of her cheeks and her hair was stained with blood.
Angel dropped his guard, forgetting all else because of the obvious pain in her voice.
"Buffy, I didn't do anything. What happened? You're hurt..." Angel reached out to touch her cheek and she snapped her head away from him.
"Don't touch me!"
Hatred and fear came into her face.
"God Buffy, what's wrong? Talk to me!"
Slowly the face changed and Angel knew he had been caught; he steeled himself for whatever might happen next. It was still Buffy standing before him, but her eyes shone red and she was no longer battle worn.
"Gotcha, Lover. Seems that big bad Angel is not so clever after all. And as for pussy-whipped, well..."
"What did you do to her?" Angel, now angry, growled at whatever it was that had taken on the body of his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Something in the back of his mind questioned the use of that word, but he'd think about that later.
"It seems the question should be, what did you do to her?"
"I don't understand."
"You will Angel boy, you will." The evil's voice was now masculine, with a heavy accent. The ever-changing form in front of him had become that of his once great ally, and greater enemy, William the Bloody. Spike.
"But by then it will probably be too late."
Angel had just enough time to register Spike's evil grin and start to vamp out before the presence in front of him disappeared, sucked upwards in a swirl of purple and brown vapor.
Now fully vamped out, Angel let out a roar of frustration and pain, standing in the middle of the dark, empty room.
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"Euuh!" With a grunt Buffy sent the last of three vampires flying against a trashcan, lunging forward in the same movement and burying a stake in his chest. In a satisfying 'Poof' the vampire was gone, and Buffy was on her knees in garbage.
Eewww thought Buffy, standing up and dusting herself off. Not as messy as zombies but still.
"Why can't the vamps hang out somewhere at least slightly more fragrant?" She said out loud.
"I've always rather liked the smell of rotting meat."
Buffy froze. There, striding slowly towards her, casually smoking, was her blonde haired nemesis.
"Reminds me of Prague."
"Spike! What are you doing here?" Buffy gasped, for some reason not threatened by the presence of the arch-vamp.
Spike flicked away the end of his cigarette and cupped his hands to light another. A scab covered the area where his hands had been deeply cut.
"Well, I thought I'd pay another visit to SunnyHell and check on the local wildlife." Spike leered at Buffy while exhaling.
"And Drusilla?" Buffy asked without thinking.
Spike froze, his hand halfway to his mouth, fighting down emotions. Not here, he thought desperately, in front of the bloody slayer...
Why is he back? She stared at Spike, not seeing him, looking through him. Why am I not worried about it? Well, he is awfully cute... What? Where did that come from?!
Buffy jerked her mind back to Spike's face just in time to see the dark look that had come across it fade as Spike regained control. She couldn't tell if it had been pain or anger.
"Drusilla's... decide to be someone else's princess for a while." Spike forced words out, anything that he could think of. Mustn't feel now, think of the slayer. Concentrate on inhaling...
"Wha..."
"It's none of your business!" Spike snapped, game face briefly showing.
"Ooo, touchy." Said Buffy, Slayer attitude returning as she realised that she had actually felt sympathy (and perhaps something else) towards her enemy. What is with me? This frustration thing with Angel is obviously affecting my judgement. He's just... Angel. Being so close and not able to touch him. To never be able to touch him again.
Spike studied her while she thought, wondering bitterly. Why did I come back? This place holds nothing for me. And I nearly broke down in front of *her*. Me, William the bloody, crying in front of a fucking slayer. That day has not yet come.
After all, the slayer provides the best challenge I've come across lately. I've no intention of killing her, yet, that would take away the fun. And she seemed content to play with him for now. At this he smiled to himself, but the smile was so full of pain it turned into a grimace. Suddenly Spike was pulled back to the present by Buffy's voice.
"Private joke, Spikey, or would you care to share with the class?"
"Just thinking how much I'm looking forward to fighting you again, Slayer. It does darken my nights."
"Don't suppose you want to engage in a little night darkening now? I've got some tension to work out."
Buffy stood in battle stance. " I'll even give you a 'no-stake till your in so much pain you're begging for it' guarantee."
"As tempting as that offer is, Luv, the Hellmouth beckons."
He started to walk off, but thought, Mustn't let her think I like her too much. And he should give her some idea.
"Enjoy another night dreaming with Angel." He quipped, throwing a glance over his shoulder.
With that Spike faded back down the misty alley, leaving behind a cloud of smoke and the faint fall of footsteps. Buffy glared at his fading form. Was she that easy to read?
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Angel was not happy. After that *thing* had disappeared, his first thought had been to find Buffy. Still vamped, he had marched to the door, jerking the handle, only to find it locked. Not locked: immovable. Panic began to rise within him, and he moved to the windows, throwing back the heavy curtains. What he saw shocked him. Outside of the windows was dark. Not just "without light" or flat black, but swirling clouds of dark, pressing against the glass. Angel stared in horror, not comprehending. Reaching out to touch the glass, he pulled his hand back before it even reached the pane. The cold issuing from the place was burning, even to his un-dead flesh.
He stepped back form the window and stumbled, landing on his butt. He slid away, the fear rising in his stomach and making him want to retch. He retreated backwards towards the fireplace, animal like in his movements and wariness.
Suddenly, Angel sensed some one else in the room, and turned to face the other window. A movement stirred in the shadows.
"Who's there?"
"Angel? It's me." Buffy stood up and looked around.
"What am I doing here? What's going on?"
That's what I was going to ask you, thought Angel.
"I don't know Buffy, but I think it has something to do with the First. Jenny...the thing...was here earlier. And look..."
He pointed to the window. She followed the line of his finger and gasped at the site outside window. Suddenly, she blanched and collapsed on the ground, landing on her side, her body twisted so her hands hit the floor before her head.
A ngel rushed over to her.
"Oooh, that was fun."
"Are you OK?" Angel knelt beside her and put his hand on her arm. Shit, now what's going on.
"I feel so strange. Like, giddy and...." She looked up at Angel, as if only now noticing his presence.
"Here, let me help you up." He lifted her by her shoulders, having to put more effort into it than he thought he would. He kept his hand on her shoulder to make sure she stayed standing. Why is she staring at me like that? Oh god, I hate this. I need her.
"Angel..." Buffy rocked forwards, falling onto his chest. He staggered backwards slightly, and put his arms around her to keep them both up right.
"Steady Buff. What is it?" He was all too aware of her body against his. She was so small; his waist came to her stomach when they stood like this. He bent his head and nuzzled her hair, alarm bells ringing in his mind. She's sick. This is not the time. God, what am I thinking? There will never be a time.
Buffy's head moved under his chin, bringing her eyes up to his. She stayed like this for a moment, looking at him, into him it seemed. Looking into his soul...Angel's doubts and reason left his mind. It was as if she had mesmerized him.
Gently, she stretched up onto her toes and kissed him on the lips. She let her mouth hover over his, the tiniest amount away. Waiting for him.
No, I can't. I mustn't...As if sensing his doubt, he felt Buffy move under him. So gently he could have imagined it her hips nudged against him, and the barriers broke down.
He kissed her passionately, violently. All the frustration and pain he had felt came out as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she kissed him back with equal violence, which surprised him. They fought with their tongues briefly, Angel's hand holding the back of Buffy's neck, pushing her mouth further into his. His other hand slid down to the small of her back, pressing her against him.
Buffy broke their kiss, thrusting her hands under Angel's shirt and pushing it up, following with her mouth, licking and nipping up the middle of his chest. Angel pulled his shirt off and dropped his hands back down, one onto her back and one under her chin. Gently, he tried to pull her head back up to his mouth. Her tongue felt good, but he couldn't go too far. He was maintaining control of himself thus far. There was no point pushing it. She let him pull her head up some, but stopped at his nipple and bit it, hard. He yelped, then felt her tongue gentle now on the bite, lapping blood. He gasped; Buffy had never done anything like this. There was something so animal about her. He pushed her away, but she resisted. Still with her head down, one of her hands swiftly cupped his erection, sending shock waves through him.
Grabbing her wrists, he drew her up to his face. Panting airlessly, he looked at her. She gazed back with those same penetrating eyes.
"Buffy..." we have to stop, he thought. But he couldn't say it while looking at her, her gaze seemed to fill his mind and make him think of only one thing. A cloud had descended in his brain, making the problem seem distant and so unimportant.
She stretched to kiss him, rising on her toes, sliding up his body. As she rubbed against his crotch he shuddered from her touch. Observing this, Buffy's mouth formed a kind of half-smile under his, and she bucked her hips against his hardness several times, pulling her head away to watch his face as it contorted slightly from the pleasure.
Angel's eyes closed and then opened again. Such exquisite torture, he thought.
Buffy's eyes flashed red and she laughed.
"You make it so easy, Angelus. You always were a slave to your dick."
Angel's eyes widened. He threw Buffy's arms off of him and stepped back.
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Buffy prowled the streets of Sunnydale, frustrated by the lack of, well anything. Three vamps and still restless. Well, I guess it's time to pay Giles a visit. I can't put it off forever, and at least we have something to talk about other than my 'problems'. Sighing, Buffy found herself at Giles' door. Knocking absently, she considered Spike's reappearance. How did he always manage to wind her up so much? That stupid smirk at his comment about Angel...
Knock Knock KNOCK.
Whoops. Ok, remember not to knock on doors when aggravated.
Giles' head appeared and he quickly lowered the cross and undid the chain bolt when he saw it was Buffy.
"Oh good, Buffy. Uhm, is there a problem? Do come in."
Buffy entered the door and closed it firmly behind her.
"I, uh, I'll get some tea."
Giles had disappeared into the kitchen to make some tea. She flopped down on the sofa in the sitting room with a hearty sigh. After leaning there for a minute she sat up and took one of the books from the table.
"Let's see...'The Higher Ascension of the All Seeing Iconoclast'? Jeez, I've heard of taking your work home with you, but this is ridiculous." Buffy raised an eyebrow at Giles' social life, or lack there of. She flipped it open and read briefly.
In the kitchen, Giles thought while absently waiting for the kettle to boil. He was glad Buffy was here, but she seemed so distant. Ever since she returned form running away, she picked up her old life, her old friends. She spoke like them, acted like them. But she led a double life. Her concealing Angel had been the first indication that things had changed. What had changed in Buffy? What had happened that made her different? What was she hiding?
The kettle whistled and Giles removed it from the stove and set it down. Giles entered the room carrying the tray.
"So, what seems to be the problem now? Is it a slaying difficulty or trouble at school?" Giles sat down, placing the tray on the table and lifted his cup to his mouth, sipping the hot tea.
"Spike's back."
Giles choked on his tea.
"And what's with this?" Buffy waved the book.
"Just some light reading." He spluttered. "Wuh, uh William the Bloody has returned to Sunnydale?"
"Yup. It's like Peroxide Boy II. Back with a vengeance."
"When, wwwuh, how did you discover he had come back?"
"Earlier tonight. I had just finished dusting three vamps, lotsa dust and not much vamp, when he came walking up out of nowhere. You know, the usual cigarette smoking cocky exchange. He really needs to get over himself."
Buffy wrinkled her nose as she re-ran the scene with Spike in her mind. What is it with him and reading my mind? And he looked different. Something had been strange. Spike bowed his head and lit up. That was it!
"And Drusilla?" Giles startled Buffy out of her reverie by handing her a cup of tea.
"He said something about her being 'someone else's' princess' whatever that means. Basically she dumped his sorry ass. She always was a Ho. His hands."
"You believe Drusilla has dump...uh...left him for good? How strange. His hands?" Giles questioned her statement.
"He had scars on his hands. Really bad, like recent. I didn't notice at first because, well, I was kinda surprised to see him."
Not shocked or horrified. Surprised. Great, the bimbo headed arch vamp was back and she was 'surprised to see him'. But then he was fun to argue with. Even Angel didn't have that quick sense of humor.
"Understandably so. These scars, were they in any pattern? As in a, a ritual mutilation?" Giles handed Buffy a scone. When he wasn't looking she put it back onto the plate with the other ones. Well, it's not like they could get any staler. Food didn't have much appeal lately, not that Giles' scones ever had, but now...
"Nope. Looked pretty much like normal, everyday, blood letting scars. Like he put his hand through a window or something."
"Did he say anything to indicate why he has returned? Did you fight him?"
"Well we did the usual slayer slayee banter thing, and I told him that-"
"Anything possibly important?" Giles interrupted her re-run of the wittier moments, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh..." Buffy looked peeved and replied in an android voice.
"Scanning conversation for boring information.... negati-Wait! He said something about the Hellmouth beckoning."
"The Hellmouth 'beckoning'? I don't remember reading anything about a beck-"
"Not literally, Giles. Like it called to him. I asked him if he wanted to fight, he said 'later, the Hellmouth beckons'. Any pressing anti-social engagements I should know about?" Buffy was growing restless, something had just occurred to her.
"Hmmm, I don't seem to recall anything on the schedule for soon...I must consult-"
"Your books. I get the picture. Ok, how about I go home and get some sleep, and meet you at school tomorrow bright eyed and beautiful for some joyous research?" Buffy batted her eyelashes and faked a yawn.
"Yes certainly. You should get your, uh, rest, this could be important."
"Ok. See you tomorrow."
"Yes, uhm, Goodnight and..."
The door slammed behind Buffy on her way out.
"Take care." Giles spoke to the empty room.
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Angel simply stared at Buffy's face, uncomprehending what had obviously happened. The First laughed at him.
"And you always wanted to screw the slayer didn't you. Or rather, have her screw you. You wanted a dominatrix. And you picked a high school girl? You're sick."
For a flash the face resembled Darla's, not vamped out, but young and beautiful. Angel had never thought of her as innocent....
"I couldn't do it as Buffy; that was so easy. I used your dreams of her, her dreams. Even easier than I thought. You would have surrendered your soul again, wouldn't you? You are weak..."
Jenny had now resumed her body, and disappeared from in front of Angel, shocking him into jumping forward by breathing on his neck.
"You know when I said I didn't want you to suffer?" She whispered breathily,
"Well, I changed my mind."
She was in front of him now, and he stepped back without thinking. Now with his back pressed against the wall, he stared at Jenny warily. Again she faded into forms of his past victims, flashes of faces that stirred memories and pain long left untouched even by his guilt.
"No..." Angel quivered, his head turning to one side as he looked away from her. His non-breathing gasps were erratic and heavy. Think. Don't give up now. Buffy's face appeared in his mind-"Fighting is hard. And it's painful. And you do it every day. And we can do it together..." Buffy. I must get through this.
"C'mon Angel, you know you want it." Jenny grabbed Angel's wrists and pulled them over his head, pressing them back against the wall. She ground herself against him, against his hardness that hadn't quite gone from Buffy.
"The harder you try, the more fun it is for me." Jenny smiled, and looked up at her one hand holding Angel's wrists. Suddenly she dropped her arm to her side and Angel immediately tried to jerk his hands down, but met resistance about half a foot away from the wall. He was chained to the wall, manacles allowing him to move his hands only slightly.
"Let me go." Now angry, Angel turned his head and glared at Jenny with his game face on.
"Oooh, does Angelus want to play rough? Well, that's fine with me. Welcome back your dark goddess."
Suddenly Jenny was gone. Angel strained his head, looking around the dark room to try and find where she had disappeared to. His mind clicked. Dark Goddess. There was only one person he had called that...
"Hello my Angel."
Drusilla stood before him, her hair long and flowing on her shoulders, her cheeks flushed slightly with English rose complexion. Her cheeks flushed?
"Yes, Angel. Sane again. I'm dead now, so it's not the demon any more. I'm human. And capable of this." She gently touched his face, her hand obscuring his eyes, and visions filled his mind.
"No...Please Dru. I'm so sorry...." Angel twitched; his eyes closed in agony. He was seeing the world through her eyes, the eyes of a young girl, so confused and wanting. She was so scared, and the pain. Her uncles' snapped neck. His face....
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You live in a church
Where you sleep with Voodoo dolls
And you won't give up the search
For the ghosts in the hall
Spike stared at the site where he had escaped with an unconscious Drusilla, a muscle working in his cheek. He had walked here without thinking, letting his feet wander as he blocked all thoughts of what had happened. He had to get away form the slayer, away from that part of his life... The mansion seemed to be occupied. Angel had gone back to that? It didn't matter; the memories he had of it were mostly of Dru's betrayal with Angelus. So easily had she transferred her 'affections' and her loyalty back to her 'Daddy'. She had never loved him. The painful realization no longer stunned him, but still triggered emotions that washed over him. Blindly, Spike staggered on down the drive, away from the bad memories, his vamp features unheeded on his face. Spike fell to his knees, darkness washing over him. Rocking back and forth on his knees, hands over his eyes, he shook his head violently, thoughts skittering into blackness as his memories took him.
You wear sandals in the snow
And a smile that won't wash away
Can you look out the window
Without your shadow getting in the way?
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Angel screamed. In his mind, he felt himself sinking his teeth into Dru's neck as if it were his own, the vile act of killing her soul and sanity coming full circle. He hung limp from his chains in the mansion, sweat and blood pouring from him, as slowly his mind cleared and he looked back up into the face of Jenny.
"Enjoy the ride? It's quite an experience isn't it?" She looked down on him with a small smile, suddenly bending her knees, bringing her face millimeters away from his. Her hand came up and caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and sobbed painfully, her gentle touch releasing more self-loathing and defeat than other form of torture would have.
"I can't do it. I won't hurt her." Angel choked out, his mind wandering. His head twitched to the side. He had to hang on. Red and grey patches seemed to fill his mind; he was unable to think. What couldn't he do?
"Oh Angel." Jenny leaned forward and Buffy kissed him. He smelled her hair, felt her mouth on his. Weak, he opened his mouth to her, hungry, his eyes still closed. Gently, she slid her tongue into his mouth, carefully stroking his, radiating warmth. Her taste.
Angel moaned.
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