First thing you need to know: What follows is both a three chapter fic and three separate stories. Chapter 1 diverges from series canon at point A. Chapter 2 diverges from series canon at a later point, which I will call, surprisingly enough, point B. The events of chapter 2 do not actually follow from chapter 1, because the divergence point is later on. So they're three stories. But there's a common element, so it's really one story.
Second, I know this group is called XanderZone for a reason. It's a place for Xander-centric fiction. And Xander is prominent in one chapter. But only one. He's present in the others, but he's not a major character. But for completeness sake, I'm posting all three chapters here.
Third, chapter three of this contains a small part that might potentially offend the religious sensibilities of some Christians. Don't say you weren't warned.
Fourth, if you think the Scoobies, either individually or as a group, are infallible icons of virtue, stop reading here. Reading further, either the rest of this intro, or the story itself, is just going to piss you off. I throw a spotlight on a lot of their canonical mistakes in this story.
Fifth, another gentle warning: The original working title for this little piece of prose was "Rantfic", and I'd say it still fits the description of "venting with a little bit of creativity".
Now, some background.
This was conceived while I was thinking about how incredibly awful the episode "The Killer in Me" (with, among other things, its frankly insulting retcon of Spike's time as an Initiative captive) was.
It started me thinking, in turn, about that BLEEPing chip - never a good idea, because I invariably realize what a stupid (or at the very least, abysmally executed) idea it was.
My own impression was the chip was brought in to give the Scoobies a reason not to kill their one-time nemesis. This was so Spike could be added to the regular cast without the show devolving to the tired cliché of two adversaries constantly trying to kill each other and neither one ever managing to quite succeed.
Kudos to Mutant Enemy for realizing THAT was a pitfall to be avoided, at least. But couldn't they have come up with something _better_?
I'm not a fan of Spike's - but that's not so much because I dislike the character (as an actual villain, at least) as because I bitterly resent the way forcing him into the ensemble required damaging the characters who had been there all along.
I can accept that good writing can believably show the conversion of a saint to a psychopath or vice versa - given time and reason. But that's not what happened here.
Suddenly, because of the chip, no transgression of Spike's was unforgivable.
The problem is that wasn't a good enough reason - or wouldn't have been for the high school era Scooby gang. They had their moments of idiocy then, but also displayed signs of wit and intelligence on a reasonably consistent basis. But apparently once the took care of Mayor Demonsnake, they all got lobotomies as graduation presents.
So I got to thinking, "What if, at certain points in the series, their original high-school IQ's reasserted themselves, however temporarily?"
This story is the result.
-WyseQuack
"Do I know you?" Riley asked Spike.
"No, sir," Spike responded quietly, making an effort to disguise both his voice and his accent. "I'm just an old pal of Xander's here."
"He's the vampire you commando boys captured and then lost again a little before Thanksgiving," Xander contradicted.
"Xander!" Willow squealed in objection.
"What? You're not the one stuck cleaning up after his mess," Xander responded.
"He helped us. We owe him," came Willow's reply.
"Yeah, we do," Xander agreed. "By my scorecard, we still owe him for repeated attempts to kill us. Buff, can I borrow a stake or do you want to do the honors?"
"Actually, I think I would," Buffy agreed, with just a little bit of relish.
"Wasn't there a reason we weren't killing Spike?" protested Willow.
"Because he knew more than we did about the mysterious commandoes prowling around town. Emphasis knew - as in past tense," explained Buffy.
"So we can give him a long overdue dusting - or let Riley's buddies play lab rat with him some more. Either way sounds good to me," added Xander.
"Where is Spike?" Buffy asked, finally realized the vampire had up and disappeared during their discussion.
"Riley, did you see which way he went?" Buffy asked the commando.
Riley's eyes had become more and more boggled as he'd listened to the conversation, and in response to Buffy's question he finally burst out laughing.
"Riley?" Buffy asked concerned.
Riley waved her off and paused to regain his breath. "Your friends really had me going for a bit there," he started to explain. After another pause he continued, "They obviously know about the . . . nightlife around town. And about our escaped prisoner. Maybe they even know about the behaviour modification chip. But they can't know anything about the details - power source, side effects, life expectancy. So they'd have to be absolute idiots to let him wander around loose, especially if he's already tried to kill them before. And the fact they're still breathing, knowing what they know, is pretty convincing proof that they're not idiots."
"Yeah . . . right," Buffy agreed, in a voice that carried about as much conviction as the one Riley had used for the paintball story.
The commando, however, was so certain of his interpretation of tonight's events, he didn't notice Buffy's expression.
"Look," Riley added, "I really do have to get back to . . . paintball. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Buffy. You too, Willow. Nice meeting you, Xander."
"Tomorrow," Buffy replied as Riley made his departure.
"Xander, how could you?" Willow asked when Riley was out of earshot.
"That's funny, Wills. I'm wondering the same thing about you."
"What?" Willow echoed in confusion.
"Spike would have killed you if Riley's lab coat buddies hadn't put that chip in his head. And that's only the most recent time he's tried."
"But he helped us," Willow started to object.
"Xander, are you sure this is the time?" Buffy remonstrated gently.
"No. It probably should have been long before now."
"Why are you doing this?" Willow asked Xander defensively.
"Because I'm worried about you. I don't understand why you're acting like the president of Spike's fan club."
"I'm not! I just haven't forgotten the times he's helped us, too!"
"Neither have I," came Xander's reply. "I just haven't forgotten _why_ he's helped us."
"What are you talking about?" Willow asked, disconcerted.
"Spike is all about looking out for number one. Not that he's much different from any vampire in that respect. The problem is Spike is a hell of a lot smarter than most vampires in how he goes about it.
"He's one of the rare breed of vampire who actually understands the drawbacks of blowing up the bridge you're standing on," Xander continued after a brief pause, "which is why he helped us out against Angel. -Us," Xander belatedly tacked on the last syllable in deference to Buffy's sensibilities.
"So why did he come to us about the commandoes? What was in it for Spike?" Willow asked.
"I'm not sure," Xander admitted. "But one possibilty that comes to mind is an old diplomatic tactic called 'Let's you and him fight'."
Buffy had been largely quiet to this point, but spoke up now and asked a question for clarification.
"Get the Slayer and the soldiers preoccupied with each other instead of the things they're supposed to be fighting?"
"Wouldn't put it past him," came Xander's reply.
"Neither would I, now that I think about it," Buffy agreed. "Giving him more time to get that chip out, or at least de-activated. Riley was right about one thing. We _were_ idiots to ever let him loose. I should go hunt him down before he causes us more trouble. Will you two be okay to get home on your own?"
"We'll be fine, Buff. Go find Bleach Boy."
Before she departed, Buffy asked "Xander?"
"Yes?"
"No offense, but how is it you figured out Spike's plan before anybody else? Assuming you're right, of course."
"Simple, Buff. I might not be a Slayer, a Watcher or a Witch. What I am is somebody who doesn't trust vampires an inch. Any vampire. Ever. It might be called galloping paranoia . . ."
"Except they really are trying to kill you," Buffy finished.
"Exactly," Xander agreed.
Buffy left, and Xander and Willow walked along in comfortable silence for a few moments.
"Was I really that bad?" Willow asked eventually, breaking the silence.
"You were scaring me, Will. It almost looked like you were thinking Spike was our friend. And I _know_ you're too smart to be that stupid."
"Getting close to salt-in-the-wound territory there," Willow warned him.
"I just don't get it, Will. Okay, I know Oz taking off the way he did was rough on you. Was it that? Or more residual guilt over the will-be-done spell? Do you need to bake some more cookies or something? Was it something else? Have you hit a wall on the de-rat Amy research?"
"I don't think it was any of those. But I have to admit I'm not getting anywhere on helping Amy."
Xander froze suddenly. A few steps later Willow stopped also, and turned to look back at him.
"Dear God in Heaven. Please tell me you weren't starting to fall for him!" Xander said, pleadingly.
"What? Spike!? NO !!" came Willow's shocked response.
"Oh, thank heaven. Buffy and Angel was bad enough, but the thought of Spike and _anything_ with a pulse makes me queasy, much less him with one of my best friends."
"Well, how do you think your seeing somebody who used to be a demon makes Buffy and me feel?" Willow replied in a voice that was almost a hiss.
"Okay, I had that coming," Xander admitted after a pause. "But whatever Anya was in the past, she's human now. If I can help her adjust enough that she stops _wanting_ to go back to handing out vengeance wishes to unsuspecting customers, is that such a bad thing? Hell, if Spike develops a pulse and starts going out in the sun - without using any freaky mystic gems - I'll think about giving him a chance, too. But until then, no way."
They resumed their interrupted walk, proceeding in silence for a time. It was finally broken by Willow.
"How could you even THINK I'd feel even a little bit that way about Spike?"
"Well, we know Spike's not half bad with the mind games. And you've been awfully protective of him tonight."
"Not THAT protective," Willow objected.
"Yeah, Will, you have," Xander gently disagreed. "Enough to make me wonder, at least."
"It wasn't about Spike. It just seemed so callous, the way you were cheering him on and encouraging him to kill himself."
"Where vampires are concerned, I'm totally callous."
"You make that sound like a good thing," Willow replied in a troubled voice.
"As far as I'm concerned, it is," Xander told her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Will, stop." She did. "Look at me. Do you think I'm a good guy?" Xander asked.
"Of course," Willow responded automatically.
"Don't. I'm not."
"You're saying you're a bad guy?" Willow asked, skepticism apparent in her voice.
"A good guy is somebody who, when somebody who just tried to kill him winds up dangling over the edge of a cliff will reach out his hand and pull the bad guy up. The good guy is then usually surprised when the bad guy goes right back to trying to kill him."
"What are you trying to say?" Willow asked.
"Will, the second Spike gets that chip out he'll happily snap your neck and drain you dry. On some level you have to know that. But it doesn't show in the way you're acting."
"How am I acting?"
"Like a good guy," Xander told her.
"And that's a bad thing?" Willow asked, somewhat puzzled.
"Good guys get people killed. Needlessly."
"What are you talking about?"
"If somebody who tries to push me off a cliff winds up hanging on by their fingernails instead, the last thing _I'm_ going to is pull them up. I'll stomp their fingers, or better yet, find a nice, stout tree branch and mash their fingers with that - less chance of them taking me with them."
Willow stared at Xander wordlessly, her mouth slightly open.
"I'm not a good guy, Will. I don't believe in giving people - or things - who are trying to kill me and my friends second, third and fourth chances to get it right. This is reality, not some kids show where nobody ever gets hurt, much less killed. And here being a good guy means taking stupid chances."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because somebody needs to. We've done a lot of good the past few years, helping Buffy out. But we've paid a price, too - Jesse, Ms. Calendar - and that just scratches the surface. And I doubt we're done paying it, yet. But I don't see any reason to pay any more than we have to.
"Now, don't get me wrong, Will," Xander continued, "your ability to see the good in people is one of the things I admire about you. But if you can't start turning it off where vampires are concerned - leave town. Transfer to Harvard, or MIT or Oxford - anywhere far away from the Hellmouth. Before you get yourself, and probably some other good people, killed."
Willow stared at him, open-mouthed. She felt her eyes starting to tear up. "How can you be so cruel?" she asked softly.
"Because I don't want to stand over your damned grave going, 'Well, she's dead, but at least I spared her feelings'. You're too damn important to me, Will."
Willow sniffled. "How can you be so sweet and such a total jerk at the same time?" she asked.
"It's a gift," Xander shot back.
"I went to school atop the Hellmouth for three years, and lived to tell about it, Mr. Not-A-Good-Guy. Why am I suddenly a danger to friends and innocent bystanders?"
"Because you're buying in to Spike's act."
"I am not! And what act are you talking about?"
"The little tricks he pulls to make you - and me - and everyone start to view him as a person, not the undead killing machine he is. Like if he'd still been here before when I said how he'd gladly snap your neck the second the chip was out, he'd probably have agreed with me. I mean, if he tried denying it, none of us would have bought it, even considering how stupid we've been acting lately. But if he admits it, some self-destructive corner of our brain gives him credit for honesty, and we start to see him as just a tiny bit less dangerous."
"So we lower our guard around him bit by bit, and then . . ."
"He figures out how to get around the chip and rips all our throats out," Xander finished.
"Cunning," Willow commented, raising an eyebrow.
"Exactly," said Xander.
They walked in silence for a time, until Xander spoke up.
"So, Buffy's new boyfriend is actually one of the secret commando guys. What do you think of that?"
"Not sure," Willow admitted. "What do you think about it?"
"Actually, given our track records," Xander confessed, "I'm kicking myself that I didn't see that one coming."
"Remind me. Why should I should help you?" Giles asked the vampire who had just burst into his home.
"Because you do that," Spike scoffed. "You're the goody-good guys. You're the bloody freaking cavalry."
With a hard look in his eyes, Giles told him, "No, you can come up with a better answer than that. Why should _I_ help _you_?"
After wracking his brain for a moment, Spike replied, "Ooh! Because I helped you! When you turned into that Fyarl demon, I helped you, didn't I?"
"And that was out of the, umm, evilness of your heart?" Giles responded drolly.
"Oh, hell, no," Spike declared. "I made you pay me - " he stopped short, suddenly realizing this was hardly the time to be gloating about that.
"You right bastard," he told Giles resentfully, as he handed over what remained of the cash. "That's all that's left. Spent the rest on blood and smokes. Which I'll never see again."
"Sit down, Spike," Giles told him and exited the room, leaving Xander and Anya alone with him. Xander looked at Spike, then at his supply of Boost Bars, and seemed to be about to start his sales pitch. Then he remembered Spike no longer had anything to pay him with.
Giles returned, tranquilizer gun in hand and immediately proceeded to shoot Spike with it. As soon as that was done he loaded a second dart and proceeded to shoot Spike with that one, as well. Spike managed to get out an angry shout of "Hey! What - ", but no more, before the tranquilizer took effect and he was incapable of further speech.
For a brief moment, Xander and Anya found their heads going back and forth between the watcher and the now unconscious vampire, almost as if they were watching a tennis match.
"Giles?" Xander hazarded. "Yes?"
"Not that I actually have a problem with it. But - " there was a brief pause, followed by, "why did you do that?" Xander asked, as he pointed at Spike's prone form.
"I thought it the best way to quiet his objections, seeing as I've no intention of helping him."
"But you took his money!" Anya objected.
"I doubt he'll find much use for it after this. I thought I might donate it to charity, rather than let the Initiative confiscate it, or have it burn up in the sun."
"So you're not going to help him," Anya repeated. "Why aren't you helping him? Isn't that what good guys do? Help the weak and defenseless?"
"Spike doesn't qualify," Giles stated baldly.
"Don't you have an obligation to help him, after he helped you?" Anya asked, her honest confusion apparent.
"Not at all," Giles told her. "Spike performed a service for a fee. And a bloody extortionate one, at that! There might be some lunatic reality in which that earns him my undying gratitude, but not in this one."
"But he offered to pay you! And you robbed him!"
"Anya, Spike's the bad guy," Xander interjected.
"Oh, I'm going to do much worse than rob him," Giles told Anya.
"So, it's okay to lie to and cheat bad guys?" Anya asked Xander.
"Actually, yes," Xander told her. "But _only_ the bad guys."
"Why _aren't_ you helping him?" Anya asked Giles.
"Because I don't care to repeat my mistakes," came Giles' answer. "The situation Spike referred to - where I was turned into a Fyarl demon - only happened because I was foolish enough to put my trust in someone I was fully aware didn't deserve it. Since I know Spike does not merit such trust, I thought I would use an intelligent approach this time.
"On top of which," the Watcher continued, "I don't which to chance the risk of antagonizing the Initiative that helping Spike would involve. I have a number of misgivings about their activities, but I don't want to invite open enmity yet - not until I'm certain it's warranted."
"So what are you going to do with him?" Xander asked.
"I'm of two minds. Throwing him out in the sun without his blanket does have a certain appeal, but leaving him somewhere for the Initiative soldiers to find has so much more elegance."
The fighting, wonder of wonders, appeared to be over at last. Buffy, Willow, Xander and Giles were sitting or standing quietly just outside one of the exits to the Initiative complex. Or rather, what was left of the Initiative complex.
Spike stood a short distance away, puffing on a cigarette, clearly reveling in his fresh memories of the recently concluded battle. Riley stood next uneasily next to Buffy. He was both discomforted by the proximity of Spike, and concerned that, with things calmed down, his official status as 'deserter' would become an issue.
Giles let his thoughts drift back to the battle. He was no stranger to carnage, but this was the first 'battlefield' he'd seen where neither side had possessed any means of retreat or escape, and that had made the aftermath truly ugly. Not that the battle itself hadn't been.
Giles eyes happened across an immensely self-satisfied Spike and found himself suddenly angered. He made his way over to the vampire, triggering a small parade as Buffy followed him, and the others followed loosely in her wake.
"So, Spike, what are we to do with you now?" Giles asked.
"What do you mean?" Spike asked. "I'm a hero now, aren't I? Parades, money, medals, special treatment - all sounds good to me."
"Medals?" Giles echoed. "Tell me, Spike, have you ever read any Victor Hugo?"
Spike's eyebrows narrowed at the apparent non sequitur as he replied. "Les Miserables, right? About some anal retentive wanker who chases a fellow to the ends of the earth just because the poor bloke helped himself to a little something to eat. Can't relate at all," he said with a sneer.
"Actually, Spike, I was thinking of one of Hugo's other works. The Corvette 'Claymore'."
"Don't think I know that one. 'Sit matter?" Spike asked, scornfully.
"You bring it to mind rather strongly for me at the moment," Giles told me. "To summarize, it concerns a sailing ship where one of the cannons has worked loose. It rolls wildly back and forth all over the ship, punching holes in the ship's sides, maiming and killing a number of men unfortunate enough to be caught in its path and causing an enormous amount of damage. Eventually the chief gunner, through a combination of courage and skill, manages to capture and immobilize the cannon before it sinks the ship."
"So?" Spike's tone made the word a challenge.
"The gunner is given a medal for his heroism in saving the ship. Then he's put in front of a firing squad, since the gunner's carelessness is the only reason the gun got loose and the ship was in danger in the first place."
Spike actually lost a bit of his swagger.
"Do not think belated heroism always excuses ill conduct, Spike," Giles finished.
"If you're saying we should give Spike a medal, then stake him, I vote 'yea'," put in Xander. "Especially the stake part."
"That's not an accurate analogy," a new voice calmly stated.
Everyone turned to regard Graham Miller, most of them wondering how Graham had managed to work his way into their midst without being noticed.
"In what way?" Giles inquired.
"You're equating Hostile 17 with the gunner, where it would actually be more accurate to make him the cannon."
There was a brief silence, which was broken by Willow. "So that would make the gunner . . ." she began.
Graham remained calm and silent, declining the unspoken invitation to finish. Giles took it up instead.
"The person - or persons - who let the cannon - that is to say, Spike - run free in the first place," he said unhappily.
"And whose heroism was instrumental in retrieving the situation," Graham continued in his eerie, strangely Oz-like calm manner.
"Now, wait just a damn minute!" Buffy began hotly. "The cannon here was named Adam and _we_ aren't the ones who set him loose!"
Graham was unruffled. His voice remained his regular near monotone as he turned to Buffy and replied, "I don't deny mistakes were made on our part, ma'am."
The words 'as well as yours' remained unspoken, but not unheard.
"But, apart from failing to prevent his initial escape, that," Graham continued as he pointed as Spike, "was not one of ours."
A still angry Buffy was about to spit out a denial, but stopped short when she realized she wasn't clear on what she wanted to deny. She looked around for support.
Riley was the first to speak.
"He's right, Buffy. I love you, but you _did_ make some mistakes here."
"Like what?" came Buffy's indignant reply.
"Like _him_," Riley said, nodding his head at Spike. "You hid him from us, didn't you? Even before Professor Walsh tried to set you up, back when we thought we were all friends?"
Taken somewhat aback, Buffy mutely gave a nod that was barely perceptible.
"Why?" Riley asked. "He's a vampire. An unapologetic murderer. We put a restraint on him, and for some reason you seemed to think that alone made _us_ the bad guys."
Still in his regular near-monotone, Graham spoke up. "What were you planning to do for an encore? Let all the human murders out of prison because prison is too cruel?" Somehow, the reasonableness of the tone almost made the accusation itself all the more damning.
"You're twisting things," Buffy told him, but with a distinct uncertainty in her voice.
"No, Buffy, he's not," Giles told her gently.
"He doesn't have to," Xander declared. "The truth is plenty bad enough."
"What are you guys saying?"
"Graham - and Riley - are right. We made a multitude of sins. They haven't even reached our worst ones yet."
"Like what?" Buffy asked angrily.
Xander interrupted before Giles could respond.
"I'm guessing it's either we let Spike run around loose, chip or no chip, or that we paid any attention at all to anything he had to say. Much less, enough to let him diddle with our heads."
"Those will do," Giles agreed softly, before an outburst by Riley claimed everyone's attention.
"You _let_ him run loose? Are you out of your minds?"
"He was chipped. He couldn't hurt anybody," Buffy explained defensively.
Riley was actually outraged by the carelessness that statement implied. "How could you be sure? You didn't have access to any information about the chip. For all you knew, it could have burned out five minutes after you let him loose. Did you even think of that?"
Buffy stopped short. Seeing that, so did Riley.
"Oh. You didn't," he stated uncomfortably.
At this point a look passed between Graham and Riley. It was one of those forms of silent communication born through familiarity. In an instant they silently asked each other 'How did these idiots save our asses? And how on earth did we end up in a situation where we needed them to?'.
"Freeze, Spike!" Buffy suddenly shouted. Everyone else noticed that Spike had somehow put a great deal of extra distance between himself and the rest of the group when nobody had been paying attention to him.
Buffy walked over to him and asked, "Going somewhere?"
"A bloke need your permission to stretch his legs now, Slayer?" Spike responded with a sneer.
Buffy ignored it. "We're not done with you, Spike. Wait around. If you do one of your disappearing acts now, the next time I see you I _will_ kill you."
"Like I haven't heard that before," was Spike's scornful response.
Buffy grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down until their eyes were nearly level. "This time it's not a threat. Not a taunt. It's a promise." She gave Spike a shove and he toppled on to his butt.
This was followed by several moments of stunned silence as Spike regained his feet, finally broken by Giles.
"I wonder if we could leave off cataloging our admittedly numerous faults for another day? For now, I think it would be better if were to address the problem of what to do with Spike."
With a look, Graham made it clear he would defer to Riley here. Apparently, Riley's long time status as team leader outweighed his more recent, and still unresolved, status as deserter. At least in Graham's mind.
"I suspect I may have contaminated by spending too much time with a variety of softhearted morons," Riley began, "but Hostile 17 was a big help tonight. I wouldn't feel right myself about just dusting him."
He took a deep breath, and continued. "But he can't run around loose any more either. He has to be caged somewhere. Right now, I'm not sure where, exactly," he finished as his voice trailed off.
"Containment by the Initiative is no longer an option," Graham agreed calmly.
"I don't care if he did come through in the end there," Xander declared in a loud voice, "the only way he's staying with me again is in an ashtray."
"Look, there's really no need to have me inconvenience anyone else," Spike said.
The response was half a dozen faces glaring at him.
"Spike," Giles stated levelly. "Your assistance inside the Initiative earned you enough good will to spare your life - or unlife, if you prefer. But nothing more. And if you don't want us to reconsider that, I advise you to remain silent."
"Just tryin' to help, is all."
"Spike, in case you're not already aware, you're still on very thin ice with us. One more offense - just one, however minor - if you so much as light a match too close to a "No Smoking" sign - "
"You'll put a stake through my heart, yadda, yadda, yadda. Heard it all before."
"No, Spike. I've given it some thought, and I've come up with a more fitting end for a vampire of your stature. As a connoisseur of torture yourself, I'm certain you'll appreciate it."
"What?"
"Some years back, a popular writer published a novel wherein Dracula was actually presented as a sympathetic character. Got most of the details about vampires all wrong, or course. I mention this because there is one point where the Dracula from the book explains his predilection for staking as his belief it is the only punishment applicable to humans and vampires alike.
"When I first read it," Giles went on, "it immediately occurred to me that one ancient method of punishment was being overlooked."
He gave Spike a long, hard, look.
"Spike, if you fail to behave to our satisfaction - our _complete_ satisfaction - this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to find a man-sized cross, and I'm going to chain you to it. Then, at sunset, I'm going to plant you and the cross somewhere with a nice eastern exposure - "
"Not too nice, I hope," Xander interrupted in a slightly shaky voice. "Great art should be savored, not rushed."
"Yes, quite," Giles agreed. "Anyhow, Spike, once that is done I'm going to find a good viewing spot, settle in with a good spot of tea, and wait for the dawn."
Spike's cigarette actually fell out of his mouth as he went slackjawed.
"Do not think I'm bluffing about this, Spike."
"Oh, please do think he's bluffing," Xander encouraged. "I wouldn't mind seeing him correct your thinking."