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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground	By : cousinjean Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 2581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground

by cousinjean

Chapter Four - Everything's Not Lost

RATING: R
PREVIOUSLY: Lilah showed up to offer Spike some assistance with his endeavor on behalf of Wolfram & Hart, who hatched a plan that involved using the Key. Spike took the noble route and turned her down, but after a vivid nightmare in which he relived losing Buffy, he had second thoughts and gave Dawn a call.

A/N: Took this title from Coldplay. I'm sorry I'm not a more creative titler.

~*~

He'd asked to meet someplace quiet, where they wouldn't be overheard. Dawn figured the library was as good a place as any. Anybody who bothered to listen in would probably think they were talking about a term project. At least, she thought that was the theory behind the rampant school library usage back at the old Sunnydale High. If it was good enough for the Scooby Gang�
Of course, meeting in the library also meant she couldn't yell at him. Even raising her voice all the way back here behind the stacks was bound to bring somebody running to shush her. As she glanced irritably from her watch to the reading room's entrance, she wondered if that had been his plan all along. And boy, did she have an earful for him.
She could have gone to college lots of places, for starters. New England might have been nice. Or maybe someplace up north. But no, she'd wanted to stay close to him. She figured he'd need her, like he did last time� and she knew she'd need him. But she rarely saw him. Okay, part of it was because she was so busy with school, but still. She hardly talked to him, even. She was always the one who did the calling, and then she usually got his machine or his voicemail. And then out of the blue he wanted her to just drop everything -- in the middle of finals, no less -- and arrange a secret meeting. She supposed she should just be happy to get to see him, and happier still that he initiated it.
She would be even happier if he'd actually show up. Looking again at her watch, she pursed her lips. One more minute. The second hand swept around the dial. When it got back to the top, she looked back at the door. Nothing. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and headed out of the library.
In the entrance hall a bunch of girls huddled around the front doors, ooh-ing and aww-ing at something outside. Dawn saw Lisa, her notes buddy from Sociology, at the back of the herd, standing on her tip-toes to try and see. Dawn went up to her. "What's going on?"
Lisa glanced at her, then did a double take. "Oh, Dawn!" She grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer. "Can you see?"
Dawn laughed and pried her wrist free. "See what?"
"There's a guy parked out front on his motorcycle, just sitting there and smoking. They're all going on and on about how hot he is, but I can't see him." Dawn tried not to giggle as Lisa pouted and strained to see over the crowd. She was so petite she made even Kennedy seem tall. But thinking of Kennedy led to thinking of all the other dead Slayers, and Buffy, which pretty much killed the urge to laugh. Instead, Dawn grabbed Lisa by the elbow and shouldered her way up to the door.
"Oooh!" Lisa exclaimed as she reached the front. "He's a Hottie McMuffin, all right."
Dawn frowned. "He's so skinny."
"Yeah, but look at those arms!"
Dawn rolled her eyes. "I gotta go. See ya." She took a deep breath, then shoved the door open and marched down the steps. At the bottom, when he still hadn't acknowledged her, she folded her arms, cocked a hip, and glared.
Finally, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and turned to give her a once over. A smile threatened to appear, but never made good on it. "Anybody ever tell you how much you look like your sis when you're brassed off? You stand the same way."
"Were you planning on coming in any time soon?"
Spike took another quick drag before tossing the butt on the ground. "Just working up the nerve. Been a long time."
"It has."
He got off the bike and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Had a good reason."
"I don't care."
He raised an eyebrow. "That so?" His gaze drifted past her, and he jerked his chin towards the library. "What's all that about, then?"
Dawn turned to see the group of girls still pressed up against the doors. "They're ogling you. I don't see why." She looked him up and down. "You look like shit."
"Hey, language!"
She shrugged. "Just calling it like I see it."
"Yeh, well�" He raked a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Didn't sleep so well last night."
"Xander said you haven't been sleeping much at all. Or eating, for that matter."
"Yeh? What else did Xander tell you?"
"That you promised to call me."
Spike's hand went back to his pocket. "I did, didn't I?"
"Took you long enough." Dawn knew she was pouting, but she didn't care.
Irritation flashed across Spike's face. Dawn lifted her chin in a silent dare, and he immediately looked contrite. "I know. I'm sorry. Had some things to take care of first."
Dawn studied him for a moment, then decided to cut him some slack. He obviously hadn't been having a good time lately. She unfolded her arms. "So, did you find it?"
"Find what?"
She hesitated. Maybe she should wait for him to bring it up. Maybe Xander had been wrong. But she had to know. "Xander said it looked like you were looking for a way to bring her back." She tried to keep the hope out of her voice. "He said Angel thought so, too."
Spike stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he shook his head. "Xander talks too bloody much." He went to his bike and opened a side satchel, then pulled out a white folder. As he turned back to her his eyes darted to the library doors. "Let's walk."
"Okay."
The night felt balmy, with a cool breeze hitting her in the face as she walked. This was one of the better lit sections of the campus, which gave her no hope of seeing any stars. But there was plenty of light to read by. That turned out to be a good thing when Spike finally handed her the folder.
"I thought," she began when she finished reading, then stopped to swallow when her voice cracked. "I didn't think I was the Key anymore."
"Might be you're not," Spike said, taking the folder from her. He sighed. "Nibblet, if you say no that's the end of it. I won't try to change your mind. I'll toss this folder and find another way."
"You wouldn't have brought this to me if there was another way."
Spike stared at the ground. "I don't like putting this on you. But if you're scared it'll hurt, or--"
"That's not it." Dawn hugged herself. She wanted to hug him, but if she did she'd break down and cry. She chewed on her bottom lip for a while, then asked, "What if� what if something goes wrong? What if it's like last time, and she� she hates us for it?"
He shook his head. "Last time she was dead. She was alive when she went through that portal. Alive, and stuck in Hell. We're not looking to raise the dead here. It's different."
Dawn nodded. "But what if something else comes through with her? What if she doesn't come through at all?"
"If we do it right, the door we open'll be focused on her. Something else comes through�" He shrugged. "I'll slay it."
"What if it's not that easy?"
"I'll make it that easy."
Dawn nodded. "When do we go?"
Spike's eyebrows shot up. "We? No, you're not going, it's too dangerous. I just need a bit of blood from you--"

"It doesn't work that way, Spike. You know that. The blood has to flow. From me. I have to be there."
"We don't know that. We could try--"
"If I can't be there, the answer's no."
He stared at her, his mouth open as if to argue. Then he shook his head. "You Summers are so bloody stubborn."
"Yeah. That's why you love us."
Spike actually smiled then. Then he grabbed her and pulled her into a fierce hug. She lost it then, like she knew she would. She didn't sob or anything dramatic like that, but there were definitely tears as she hugged him back. He ran a hand over her hair and planted a kiss on her temple before letting her go. "I know I've been distant all year, but if this works, it'll be just like old times."
Dawn nodded as she wiped her face. "But what if it doesn't?"
"It will. It has to."
"I know. But� but what if?"
Spike sighed and looked out across the campus. "Then I'll�" His voice cracked, and his face screwed up like he might cry. "I'll need you to help me let her go."
Dawn wiped her nose and didn't say anything. She wanted this to work. She wanted Buffy back more than anything. But if it didn't, at least she would have Spike back. "It said the anniversary would be the best time. That's Tuesday. I have a test on Wednesday, but it won't hurt my grade that much to miss it."
Spike nodded. "That'll give me time to get all the other stuff we need. It has to be in the desert. Same place we lost her."
"Right. I'll drive. There's not enough room for us all on your bike."
Spike smiled. "Good call."
"So� what should I do until then?"
"Nothing. Study, take your tests, do well. And try not to think about it."
Dawn laughed. "Yeah. That's gonna happen."
***
Sunday morning. Wolfram & Hart should be deserted, save for security and the overachievers. Unfortunately for Spike, that last group was made up of the majority of the staff. He breathed a long sigh as he walked through the lobby and dodged one suit after another (you'd think these people could dress down on the weekends). At least he could count on Angel not being there.
He went to his office first. He had a good excuse -- no, actually he had a good reason to be there, considering how much work he'd missed. Anyone who took notice of him would hopefully assume he was there to catch up. And now all of the witnesses and security cameras could honestly vouch that he'd gone to his office.
The cameras were the thing. As he sat at his desk and spread open the white folder, it occurred to him that there were two ways he could work this. One, he could just walk down, take what he came for, and leave. In all of Spike's existence, one thing never changed: you could walk into just about any place without being questioned if you acted like you belonged there. Security had no reason to think he wasn't doing something job-related, unless Angel tipped them off. Of course, then he'd have to lay low until Tuesday. After the deed was done, it wouldn't matter if they caught him, and Angel would have to be a right bastard to take any action after he saw Buffy, besides.
But if they caught up with him before the ritual? Too risky. Best to be sneaky about it.
The directions to the pages he needed included secret doors and passages that, the file assured him, not even Angel knew about. It didn't say anything about how to get past the cameras, though. Disabling them was right out. He had neither the access nor the know-how. He might be able to blow the power somehow, but then he'd have to take the stairs all the way down, and he'd probably find himself sealed out of the vaults. Anyway, he supposed this place had backup upon backup. Something more low-tech, then? Maybe if he darkened his hair--
A knock on his door interrupted his musings. Spike slammed the folder shut and sat back in his chair. "Come in," he called, his voice wary.
A small, dark-haired girl in glasses poked her head in. At first glance Spike took her for Fred, but this girl had a bit more meat on her bones and a far more business-like manner.
"Mr. � um, Spike?"
"Yeh?"
She smiled and helped herself inside. "Shannon Donnelly," she said, shutting the door behind her. "I'm on temporary assignment from the Silicon Valley branch."
"How nice for you. What do you want?"
The girl cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses with her free hand. Her other hand clutched a notebook computer. "I was told you had a job for me, sir."
Spike opened his mouth to tell her to bugger off, but looked around at the stacks of unfinished work on his desk. Truth was, he really could use a temp; but not today. "Sorry, um�"
"Shannon, sir."
"Right. Shannon. I don't have anything for you today. Maybe if you come back tomorrow I can find something for you to do."
"Ms. Morgan said it was imperative that you have my services today, sir."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "She did, did she?"
Shannon gave him a curt nod, then moved to his desk and opened her laptop. "I took the liberty of looping the feed on security grids 42-C and sublevel 6-D, providing you with a twenty minute window of opportunity to retrieve the artifact without detection."
"You� what now?"
She looked up from her computer. "I blinded the cameras for you. I suggest you go now, sir."
"Oh. Right." Spike stood up and tucked the folder in his jacket. "Um, thanks."
"Not at all, sir."
As Spike left the girl in his office, it occurred to him that he should be less than trusting of all this Wolfram & Hart assistance, but he'd worry about that later. At the moment he had no intention of looking his gift lawyer in the mouth. There was no time for second-guessing. He looked over the instructions again as he waited for the elevator. He was to go up five floors and find a utility closet next to the men's room. At the back of the closet was a hidden elevator that would take him straight to the basements. From there--
"Spike?"

Oh, bugger. "Wesley."
"I didn't expect to see you here today," Wes said as he locked his office door.
Spike shrugged. "Got a lot to catch up on. What're you doing here?"
Wesley held up a book. "Just came to get the final volume of the Chadwick diaries. Are you familiar with them?"
"Can't say as I am."
Wesley nodded. "Noel Chadwick was a Watcher in the 16^th century. It's a fascinating read. There's quite a bit about the Order of Aurelius in here."
"That's nice. Look, Wes--"
"Are you headed out to lunch?"
"Um�" That was as good a cover as any. "Yeh."
"Mind if I join you?"
"Actually--"
"I haven't eaten yet today, and it'll give us a chance to catch up."
"Right. Well, I was just gonna grab something from the commissary."
"I'll walk with you then. I wanted to talk to you about your current project and the, ah� emotional ramifications." The elevator opened and Wesley stepped on. Spike didn't. "Spike?" Wes stepped back into the hall. "Is something the matter?"
"Yeh, now you mention it." The elevator closed and left, taking about a dozen witnesses with it. Wesley never even noticed that it was going up. He stood there, all innocence and concern, waiting for Spike to say something. "Wesley, don't take this personally, but�"
Spike hit him. Hard. Wesley went down just as hard, his head bouncing on the carpet as he landed. "Bloody hell," Spike muttered as he knelt to survey the damage. Still breathing. At least Spike hadn't killed him.
"Sir?" Shannon stuck her head out of the office. "Would you like me to get Mr. Wyndham-Pryce back inside his office?"
Spike nodded as he stood up. "And make sure he doesn't have a concussion."

So much for Plan A, Spike thought as he started down the hall. This time, he'd take the stairs.
***
Wesley's head hurt. As he opened his eyes he realized that his face hurt worse. He lay on the sofa in his office and blinked up at Lilah, who pressed a cold compress to his cheek. "Spike must've really hit me hard. I seem to be hallucinating."
She smiled, and bent to kiss his forehead. He could smell her perfume, and the fainter blend of alcohol, soap and sex that was uniquely Lilah. There was also a mild sulfuric odor about her. "Did that feel like a hallucination?" she asked as she sat up.
"How can you be here?" His voice sounded thick and dreamy, but maybe that was just because he heard it through the ringing in his ears.
"Does it really matter?" She smoothed his hair back from his brow.
Wesley caught her hand and forced himself to sit up. "It does if your presence has anything to do with why Spike hit me." He put a hand to his forehead and fought the wooziness that wanted to overtake him, ignoring the pain long enough to put two and two together. "He's found a way to retrieve Buffy, hasn't he?"
Lilah folded her hands in her lap. "Found, been shown�" She shrugged. "Same difference."
Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Why are you helping him?"
With a sigh, Lilah got up. "Just following orders." She crossed to the cabinet behind his desk and poured a cup of coffee, then rummaged through a drawer.
Wesley got to his feet and managed to make it to his desk despite the wobbliness in his legs. He sunk gratefully into his chair and swiveled to face her. "Okay then, why are the Senior Partners helping him?"
"I didn't think to ask." She turned around and held out the coffee and some pain relievers. Wesley took both with more gladness than he preferred to show. Lilah perched on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs; exquisite legs that he thought he'd never see again. It was all he could do not to reach out and trace a finger down her thigh. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked down at him, her gaze tender, if a little sardonic. "Maybe they were so moved by Spike's plight that they just want those two crazy kids to have a happy ending."
"Somehow I doubt that."
"Yeah, me too. I think it's safe to say that their motives are less than altruistic, but I really don't know what they're up to. I'm not exactly in the loop these days. But I can surmise that the results will be beneficial to us both." She leaned down to cup his unbruised cheek.
He covered her hand with his own, and turned his face to press his lips against her palm. Then he snatched her hand away as something occurred to him. "They want him to re-introduce magic into the world."
Lilah smiled. "And that's why you're the brains of the operation."

Wesley reached for the phone. Lilah put her hand on the receiver and stopped him. "You're disappointing me, Wesley. I'd hoped you wouldn't turn out to be so predictable for once."
"I have to stop him, Lilah. You know that."
"Why? Haven't you noticed how boring this world is without any magic? And it's not like it's all gone, anyway. If it was, I couldn't be here. And Spike couldn't rescue his beloved Slayer."
"But we banished it--"
"No, you locked it. There are ways yet to unlock it, if you know the right combinations." She looked down and fussed with her skirt. "Some of the combinations are more painful than others, though, and can only be used so many times."
Wesley studied her. She looked beautiful as ever, for a dead woman, but there was something in her eyes. Something haggard and worn. They were the eyes of someone who lived through hell. "What did you have to do to get here, Lilah?"
"Sorry. That's a company secret I can only divulge on a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know. But I'll be able to come and go a lot more easily after Spike performs his little ritual."
Wesley shook his head. "No. What we went through� the cost was too high."
Lilah sighed and took her hand off the phone. "Fine. Stop him. Condemn both me and Buffy to hell for eternity, if it'll ease your troubled conscience."
Wesley shut his eyes. "Lilah�"
"Don't worry about it, Lover." She slid off the desk and tilted his chin up as she bent to meet him. "I trust you'll do what you believe is best." She kissed him, her lips resting lightly against his. He wanted nothing more than to open his mouth beneath hers, to wrap his arms around her and take her right there on his desk. But before he could decide either way, it was over, and she was walking away. "Nice seeing you again."
Wesley picked up the phone and dialed. "Yes, security?"
Lilah paused, her hand on the doorknob.
Wesley took a deep breath. "See that Spike makes it out of the building unimpeded."
Lilah turned as he hung up the phone. "Look at that. You've got a few surprises left in you after all."
Wesley leaned back in his chair and sighed. He suddenly felt like he'd been through hell. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?"
Lilah smiled. "Because you probably will."

~*~

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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground