Chapter 5

DAY 8

"All right," Giles began, setting his coffee on the table."Clearly something bizarre is happening and we need to get to the bottom of it." He sat across from Xander. "Perhaps you'd better recount the last few days to us."
Xander groaned and let his head drop to the table.
"Are you all right?" Giles asked.
"Yes - no . . . . All right, look . . . ." He waved a hand around. "This isn't really. . . ." He stood, abruptly, and started pacing.
"Try to calm down, Xander," Giles said.
"Okay," he said. "Well, no, actually . . . not okay. . . ."
"Just start at the beginning," Willow said, smiling. "And remember, nouns are our friends."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

They'd decided not to bother patrolling and split their time between Giles' apartment and the Magic Box.
Spike, Willow, Buffy and Dawn were at the shop, pouring over spell books.
Spike slammed his book shut.
"Spike?" Willow said, looking up.
"I read this one," he stated, simply.
"The whole thing?" Buffy asked, eyeing the suspiciously large volume.
"I skipped the chapters on turning people into toads and sausage links, okay?" he said and stood.
Buffy sighed and pushed her book away. They'd been at this all day and hadn't found anything useful. Willow wasn't even helping anymore. She spent all her efforts into working on a spell to make them remember. Dawn had eventually fallen asleep, her arms and head resting on the table.
"Maybe I should patrol," Buffy said, standing.
"No!" Spike said.
Dawn jolted upright, bleary-eyed, and glanced around.
Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Okay, I know you've been having a rough time, Spike, but -."

"A rough time -." He broke off, laughing strangely.
Buffy and Willow exchanged a concerned look.
"Why don't you sit down and have some tea or something," Buffy said.
"Oh!" Willow said, "this might work."
"The memory thing?"
"No, to break the loop. Just kinda' stumbled over it." She read through the spell again. "It really takes a lot of juice, but we should be able to manage it. I need to look up some things, though. . . ."
"Better tell me all about it, Red, in case something happens before you can do it," Spike said, leaning over her shoulder.
"Like them?" Willow said, apprehensively.
Buffy, Spike and Dawn turned to follow her gaze. A group of vampires had assembled at the front of the shop, apparently only seconds away from entering.
Spike stalked to the weapons in a nearby glass case and smashed his hand through it. He extracted a sword and headed for the front door.

Giles, Xander, and Anya arrived fifteen minutes later to find the shop all but destroyed. The battle had clearly been waged indoors and out. Buffy, Spike and Willow stood outside, apparently just regaining their composure after a nasty fight. Dawn was sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against the store wall. She had a swelling eye and she was cradling her left arm. Willow stood next to her, holding a hand to her head, where blood was gushing from a cut above her right eye.
"Is everyone all right?" Giles asked, moving quickly to Willow and Dawn.
Buffy abruptly spun around, spotted Spike, and punched him in the face. He fell to the ground. He wiped the blood from his mouth and gave her a stunned look.
"Just wanted to get your attention, Spike," she said, tightly.
He stared up at her, confused.
"I have HAD it, Spike!" she said. "If you want to piss off the entire vampire community, go ahead, but don't expect me to come to your rescue every night! Consider yourself lucky that I don't remember the last week, otherwise I'd probably just stake you right now!"
Spike stared at her, mortified.
"Willow and Dawn could've been killed tonight!" she screamed. She glanced around for Xander. He and Anya were standing not far off, trying not to get involved.
"Xander!"
He walked over to her, but didn't say anything.
Buffy glared at Spike, who'd made no move to get up. "I need a witness who's gonna' remember this tomorrow." She took a few deep breaths, and said, "You're a danger to my family and friends, Spike, and I don't want you around anymore."
Spike stared up at her, wounded beyond speech.
"Uh, Buff. . . ." Xander began.
"I mean it Xander!" She waved at Willow and Dawn. "Dawn was almost bitten tonight and Wil was nearly decapitated by flying glass! They both almost died and it's all his fault!" she screamed, kicking Spike in the leg. He didn't say anything, just continued to lie where he'd fallen.
"It's not that bad, Buffy," Willow said, weakly. Giles held on to her and gently lowered her to the ground.
Buffy turned a stony look on Spike. "I don't know what you did, Spike, and I don't care anymore. In fact, knowing you, they probably have a really good reason for wanting to kick your teeth in." She stepped away from him. "You aren't a monster, Spike," she continued, looking at him in abhorrence. "You're worse. You're a parasite. You live off the kindness of others and all you give in return is misery and death."
Spike looked at the ground.
Dawn looked sick. "Buffy. . . ."
Buffy ignored her and gave Spike one, final look and said, very precisely, "Go. away. Spike." She turned her back on him and walked over to Dawn.
Nobody said anything for the next minute. Spike climbed slowly to his feet, not looking at anyone.
"I think perhaps you'd better go, Spike," Giles said.
Spike stared at him, defeated and broken, then turned and walked away.

DAY 9

"I can't believe you morons brought me back just to shop . . . oh, this is nice." She fingered the blue satin dress, briefly, then pulled it from the hanger.
The minions swarmed around her, anxiously. "We thought . . . perhaps. . . ."
". . .you'd like to rule THIS dimension!"
"This dimension?" she said, disgusted. She looked around the little dress shop, then sighed. "I suppose it's better than that hell dimension I was in."
"Perhaps you would like to begin by killing or enslaving those who ruined your plans before, oh Resplendent One?"
"Now, that's a good idea. Where are they?" She frowned. "Hey, wait a minute. This is familiar."
The minions didn't seem to notice her consternation. "Unfortunately, our plan to confound the Slayer did not turn out quite the way -."
"Hey!" she said, grabbing him and jerking him close. "This is the same day!"

"Ummm . . . Magnificent One?"
"We're stuck in some kind of spell. It's making the day repeat itself." She turned loose of the minion and he staggered back, looking worried, as Glory mumbled to herself.
"Resplendent One?"
"Go find them."
"Them?"
"The Slayer and her pals. They must've done this."
"I fear we are ill equipped to handle -."
"Just find them!" Glory screamed. "Then scurry back here and tell me where they are. I'll do the rest."
"Of course, oh Creamy Effervescent One. We will -."
"Go!"

Spike hadn't left his crypt all day, despite Xander's best efforts to get him to do so.
At midnight, Buffy and Xander approached Spike's crypt, noting the dust piles scattered around the area.
"Look's like Spike had visitors," Buffy said.
"Great," Xander said. "Should have realized."
"What?"
"I told you, they're looking for him. This is why we didn't do so well on the slaying tonight." He gestured. "They were all here."
Buffy sighed. "He probably deserves it. Knowing Spike. . . ." She trailed off as she noticed Spike's door ajar. She frowned at Xander, then gently pushed the door open.
"Spike?"
There was no answer.
"I'm gonna' light some candles," Xander said, and moved away.
Buffy continued forward. "Spike?"
She tripped over a body on the floor and she sprawled, face-down on the concrete.
"Hey!"
"You okay?" Xander called.
"Yeah, just tripped over. . . ." She peered at the figure, then nudged it with her hand. It wasn't Spike.
"What is it?" Xander joined her, holding two lit candles.

"Not Spike," she answered. "Some butt-ugly demon."
She stood and they squinted at the crypt, holding the candles out in front of them.
"Maybe he's down below," she suggested. Or, maybe he's dead. She didn't want to dwell on that, not, that is, until they'd searched every inch of his crypt.
"Over here, Buff," Xander said.
He was standing in front of Spike's sarcophagus, holding his candle over an inert figure.
"Hey, Spike," he said, nudging him.
He didn't move.
Xander and Buffy moved their candles over him, illuminating his entire body, then back to his face. Spike was lying awkwardly, one leg hanging over the side. It looked as though he'd made it only so far, then gave up.
"Don't see anything too gruesome," Xander said, looking him over.
"Except this piece of metal buried in his side," Buffy said. "Ewww."
"That's from this morning."
"What?"
"It's from his axe. He had a little run in with these guys last night, too."
Buffy looked disturbed at the thought. She glanced at Spike again. "Should we get it out?"
"It'll just be there again in the morning."
Buffy sighed. "Xander, this whole loopy day thing is just so -."
"Buff, believe me, it's the same day. And it's looping, not loopy."
Spike groaned and opened his eyes.
"Hey," Buffy said, gently. "Not much of a host. We had to let ourselves in and light our own candles."
Spike blinked a few times, obviously disoriented.
"So," Xander said, hoping to get him talking before he remembered the other night. "Went patrolling, but we only found a couple of vamps and some kids smooching in the cemetery." He shrugged. "So, we staked 'em and -."
"The vamps," Buffy interrupted.
"Right. Buffy gave the kids a good Slayer scolding and sent 'em home. Anyway, thought we'd stop by, see how you're doing, maybe catch Dawson's Creek."
Spike continued to stare at him.
"'Cause I've been purposely not watching it, you know," Xander went on, doggedly. "I figure if we're in this day for too long, we'll want to watch something we haven't seen yet. So . . . um. . . ."

"Spike, you okay?" Buffy asked.
A soft creaking startled them and they whirled to look at the door, aiming their candles forward. The door swung gently inward.
"See anything?" Xander whispered.
"No."
They stared for another few seconds.
"Here," Buffy said, handing Xander her candle.
She stalked toward the door. Upon reaching it, she flung it open. One of Glory's minions, leaning on the door, lurched forward when she did this, and Buffy grabbed him and hurled him to the floor.
Xander, alarmed, moved to help her.
Spike grunted and pushed himself up.
Buffy leapt through the doorway and encountered two more minions.
"Please!" one shrieked. "We mean no harm!"
"I do," Buffy said, and punched him in the face.
The blow sent him tumbling back to knock into his companion. They both fell in a heap and Buffy jumped on them. She grasped the second one by his robe and jerked him into a sitting position. She punched him in the face, twice, then let him go and stepped back to admire her handiwork. As she did so, she heard a noise in the grass ahead. She looked and saw two more minions. When they saw her looking at them they let out a startled cry and ran.
There was no point in chasing them, so she returned her attention to her captives. Okay," she began, placing a foot on the chest of the nearest one, "where's Glory?"
They stammered in terror until they'd embarrassed themselves and all manhood for decades to come and until Buffy couldn't take anymore.
"Okay!" she said. "I'm not gonna' kill you. Not yet, anyway. Just tell me what you were doing here."
They looked nervously at each other.
"Well . . . um. . . ."
"We . . . that is. . . ."
"Spit it out!"
"Her, um, Extreme . . . Splendiferousness believes one of you has cast some sort of spell, causing the day to repeat itself."
Buffy was silent for a few seconds, then, "All right, inside."
She stepped back and hauled them to their feet.
Once inside, they joined their companion, whom Xander had knocked unconscious, on the floor.

"So?" Xander asked.
"She knows the day is repeating."
"Yeah, I know."
"You know? What else do you know that I don't?"
"A lot, but we don't have time to go into it." He looked at the minions. "What do we do with these guys?"
"Leave them."
"Leave them?"
"There were two more. They got away."
"So, you're thinking Glory'll come looking?"
She nodded. "We should go." She looked around for Spike and spotted him. He was still sitting on his sarcophagus, head hanging and looking worn out and beaten down. Buffy moved to stand next to him. She took him by the arm and he flinched.
"Spike, um, you should come with us. Don't want Glory to come back here and use you for a hockey puck."
He nodded. He didn't want to argue, didn't want to talk to her. If he could just go somewhere and rest, where no one would bother him the remainder of the night, he might make it through the day without going insane. He closed his eyes and slid off the sarcophagus. Maybe he could pretend for the next several hours that nothing had happened between them, that everything was the way it was a few days ago.
"Hey!" Buffy said, as Spike's legs buckled. She caught him and Xander moved to help.
Together, they managed to walk him across the room and outside.
"Maybe I should get my car?" Xander said, upon surveying the length of the cemetery before them.
"I'm okay," Spike mumbled. He tried to shrug out of their grip and stumbled.
"Spike, stop it," Buffy said, holding him tighter. She sighed. This was her life - hauling a wounded vampire through the graveyard in the middle of the night and hoping a hellgod didn't show up to pound them into an early grave. Things really couldn't get any worse - could they?

DAY 10

Xander went to see Spike and found him lying on his sarcophagus, asleep. Xander nudged him.
"Go away," Spike mumbled, batting his hand away.
"Spike, you can't keep this up," Xander said.
"What do you care?" he asked.

"I don't, but we need everyone working on this problem."
Spike let out a mirthless laugh. "I'm obviously a bigger problem than the one you're working on, so why don't you just go back and give them a little peace of mind. Tell 'em they don't have to worry about me gettin' any of them killed anymore."
Xander didn't know what to say to him. He didn't like Spike, but he thought Buffy had been unnecessarily harsh with him. He couldn't tell him, that, however. It might ruin their relationship, built so carefully on loathing and distrust.
"I haven't told 'em about Glory. I don't see the point. She doesn't come back until tonight and she doesn't seem to get much done. If Willow can find that memory spell, we can work on the looping day problem next." He sighed. "Then, the hellgod problem. . . ."
Spike didn't respond. Xander spotted Spike's armchair - it was overturned and somewhat the worse for wear. He righted it and sat.
They sat in silence for another few minutes. Finally, Spike said, "She found somethin' the other night, before we were attacked. It was in that big black magic book she likes so well. Page 300 and somethin'."
Xander got slowly to his feet. "Um, okay. I'll go let her know." He moved to the door. "I'll, uh, stop by tomorrow, let you know how things are going."

DAY 11

It was just after one p.m. when Buffy and Xander showed up at Spike's crypt. They didn't bother knocking.
Xander strode over to Spike, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his sarcophagus, looking as though he'd been there for hours and intended on breaking his own record.
Xander took a deep breath. "Spike, you wanna' get up and come with us? Could use a little help with the hellgod problem today."
Spike, eyes closed, ignored him.
"I explained the whole thing again and, guess what, they think I'm nuts."
Buffy moved to stand in front of Spike. She glared at him, then at the empty whisky bottle next to him.
"Maybe we should all drown our problems," she said in disgust. "It might -." She broke off and peered at Spike. "What's that in your side?"
Spike closed his eyes. "You made things perfectly clear the other night, Buffy." He paused. "Just go away," he said, quietly.
Buffy frowned at Xander. "What's he talking about?"
"Nothing," Xander said, quickly. He knelt next to Spike and took him by the arm. "Come on, Spike. We don't have moping on the schedule. There's no time."
He tried to pull Spike up, but Spike resisted, hissing in pain as he tried to pull away.
"Xander, stop," Buffy said. She knelt in front of Spike.

He looked away.
Buffy reached for his side, gently touching the wound. The dried blood on his shirt crinkled under her touch.
"Spike, I hate to tell you this, but you have a sliver of metal buried in your side."
"It's okay," he mumbled, still not looking at her.
Her eyes went wide. "Well, I think we should get it out."
"Just leave me alone."
Buffy glanced at Xander, then back to Spike. "Look, I don't know what's wrong here, but I do know two things. One, we've got a looping day to deal with -."
"I thought you didn't believe me."
"I'd rather believe the worst than have a nasty surprise sneak up on me later. Anyway, two, Spike's got an icky wound that we need to take care of. I'm gonna' do that while you get him some blood."
"Buff -."
"Xander, go," she said, firmly.
Xander sighed. He didn't want to leave them alone, but he didn't want to argue either. "Okay." He checked Spike's refrigerator first. It was empty. He shook his head. "I'll be back in a few," he said, giving them a last, concerned look.
When he returned, he found Spike lying on his sarcophagus, his shirt off, and Buffy swabbing the wound in his side. Spike looked like he was asleep.
"How is he?" Xander asked, approaching to stand on the other side.
"He passed out when I pulled that out of him," she said, nodding at the piece of metal. "I think it's from his axe," she continued.
"Did he, uh . . . say anything?"
She frowned at him. "No." She looked at Spike again. "What's wrong with him? Why's he acting like this?"
Xander hesitated. "You . . . you said some things to him a few nights ago. He took it bad."
"What did I say?"
"Just let it go, Buff."
"Xander -."
"No," he said, adamantly. He sighed. "We just need to get him up and around. We might need him tonight against Glory."
"He's not in any condition to patrol, Xand, let alone fight Glory."
"He's been doing all right up to now."

She look startled. "You mean, I did this to him?"
"Uh . . . Buff . . . look, can we not -."
"What did I do?"
Xander looked at her, exasperated. "It's a little of both of you, okay?"
She stared, rigidly, at him.
"You told him not to come around anymore, to stay away from you and your friends."
She stared at him, speechless.
"Look, Buff, it was a bad night, for everyone. You were just a little . . . upset."
"What happened the other night?"
"We really don't have time for this."
"Xander."
"No," he said, resolutely. He'd already said too much and their prospects for getting Spike on his feet were looking grim. Bringing Buffy was a mistake. "Maybe we should just go."
"No. I think we should -."
"I think he'd rather be by himself, Buff."
"He's unconscious."
He gestured at the whiskey bottles on the floor. "He likes being unconscious."
They continued to argue, neither willing to give in. Eventually, Xander gave up and left. He had a plethora of tomorrows and he didn't need the added irritation of arguing with his friends.

DAY 12

"Hi, Spike," Buffy said, as he and Xander entered the shop.
It had taken Xander an hour of persuasion to get Spike out of his crypt, finally insisting that nobody remembered. Xander then assured him that he hadn't honored Buffy's snap decision from the other night, mostly because he was tired of being trapped in hell-day alone.
Spike glanced at Buffy, but didn't say anything. He tossed his blanket aside and moved to the table.
"Someone's cranky in the mornings," Buffy muttered, and moved to the table as well.
Giles approached and set a pot of coffee on the table. "Xander has filled me in on the last few days and, if he is correct, we've been experiencing the same day for over a week now."
"Nearly two weeks, now, Giles," Xander corrected.
"Right." Giles cleared his throat. "Can you prove any of what you're telling us?"

Xander did all the talking for the next half hour. The meeting finally broke up at noon, with everyone going to get lunch. Spike hadn't said a word, and made no move to leave.
"Spike," Buffy said, "we're all going for lunch. Do you want me to bring you some blood?"
Spike gazed up at her, carefully avoiding her eyes. She was so lovely, standing there with the flourescent lights making her hair shimmer, and no idea she'd destroyed him a few nights ago, crushing the last of his aspirations. But, she'd been right. What could he say? He could never apologize enough. Never make enough amends.
"Spike?"
He looked away. "No."
She sighed. "Okay." She joined Xander and Anya. "He's sure taking this repeating day thing badly," she said. "Maybe we should bring him one of those flowery onion things he likes."
"Yeah," Xander said, "I'm sure that'll fix everything."

Onwards...