Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or any of the characters you recognize. I am not Joss Whedon, because if I were, I would be rolling in the dough. No, literally. I would buy a bunch of dough and roll in it. Although I suppose I would also have a lot of cash.

As Good As You

The moment Kathryn Daltry’s life changed was simple--one that is barely even worth mentioning. It was a moment anyone would have overlooked--in fact, Kathryn did. No meteors crashed to earth, there wasn’t a vat of toxic waste involved, and there wasn’t an incident with a radioactive spider. She didn’t suddenly start flying or burst into flames. She didn’t play chicken with the train and knock it off the tracks.

She simply took out the garbage.

It wasn’t the garbage that made the moment significant--that was just what she happened to be doing at the time. It was well past midnight, and her only source of light came from the dingy bulb on the porch. Kathryn knew it was silly to be afraid of the dark at the age of eighteen, but she couldn’t help it. In the darkness, a tree could look like a three-headed monster. The dark shapes made frightening forms. It was such a childish thing to fear, but she did.

As she was throwing the black sack into the green garbage outside of her house, she felt suddenly dizzy. She shook her head and blinked a few times, feeling an odd sensation in the back of her mind, almost like she remembered something she’d been pondering for awhile. A second later, she brushed it off and completely forgot about it. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d had a head rush--and she wasn’t the only person to ever have one. Why would she have paid this one any mind?

It wasn’t like she knew that it was an important moment in her life; the second everything changed.

There were plenty of other things Kathryn could have been doing. Actually, things she should have been doing, like the five page essay on the economical effects WWII had on Germany and Austria, or perhaps the fifty-question math assignment. And she knew damn well she was going to be up until daybreak finishing her assignments and she knew that she was going to be frustrated and irritated the entire next day. She also knew that she would swear to never procrastinate again, just like she promised herself ever since she started getting homework.

Fact was, Kathryn had a hard time grasping the concept of algebra, and when it came to the economical effects of Germany and Austria after WWII, she knew she was going to fail that. No matter how many times she read accounts of it on the internet or looked over that chapter in the book, she could not make her essay long enough. No matter what she wrote or how many times she tried to start it, it always sounded like a text book reiteration, and she didn’t understand a damn word of it.

So instead of doing her homework like she would later that night, until the skies burned orange with sunrise, she sat on the couch and flipped through the stations, tryign to find something to watch.

“Hey, whatchya doin’?” her brother asked as he walked into the living room.

“Oh, just tryin’ to find something to watch. You can pick something if you want.”

Kyle scoffed. “Can’t. Aidan hasn’t showed up to work again, so they just called me in. I swear to God I hate him,” he grumbled as he finished walking down the stairs. “We’ve been here a month, and I already can’t stand that place. Sometimes I wish I were back in school,” he told her as he ran his hand through his messy black hair. “Back then, at least you usually had to cover your own ass, and you didn’t have to make up for someone else’s mistakes. You screwed up your assignment, and only you failed. Now it’s like someone else fails and you’re the one who gets it up the ass. Well, you only get it up the ass if it’s the boss’s son who never shows and God knows no one’s gonna fire the boss’s son.”

“Do you know what time you’ll be home?”

“No idea, but if this keeps up, I might as well tell them to forget about giving me days off because we all know that never happens anyway. But anyway, could you do me a favour?” he asked.

“What is it?”

“You know that guy I talk to?”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Grigori,” he told her.

“Oh, yeah, the internet guy. Well, one of them.”

“Well, he lives here in Sunnydale. One of the reasons I didn’t hate dad for packing us up and moving here. Anyway, he’s got a book for me and I was supposed to pick it up, but seeing as Aidan the Douche decided to do God knows what instead of work, I can’t do it. Could you get it for me?”

Kathryn sighed and rubbed her temples in irritation. “Is it one of your vampire books?” she inquired dully although she already knew the answer.

“Could we not get into that today?”

She sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll go get it. But you owe me--you know how I hate all this vampire crap.”

Kyle stood up straighter and widened his hazel eyes. “It’s not crap, Kathryn, and you know it. Somewhere in there you have to know it.” There were a few things that her and her brother disagreed on, but the only one he was ever truly angry about her not agreeing on him with was the vampire stuff. Whenever she even insinuated it was all fantasy, he would start getting uppity.

It wasn’t that she blamed him for wanting to believe in that. Everybody wanted to believe in the supernatural--in something beyond just human existence and everyday mundane reality--but one day everybody had to wake up and realize that everyday mundane life was really all there ever was and ever would be. Although her brother was five years older than she was, he had never woken up from fantasy world. She understood why he refused to let go of his childish dreams, but sometimes she wished he’d just get over it.

“Fine, I’ll get it. Just give me an address.”

His face broke out into a smile and he hurried went over to the coffee table, vainly tossing his longish bangs out of his eyes as he leant over and scribbled something down on a napkin their father had wiped up spilled coffee with.

“Now, his name is Rupert. Just tell him that you’re Kyle’s sister, and he’ll know what book to give you,” he said as he handed her the napkin.

She looked over the address, then nodded. “Okay. He’s not expecting any cash or anything, is he?”

“Oh, right, here,” he said, pulling out his wallet. He pulled out he cash and handed it to her. “Now, I’ve paid half already--the deal was half before and half after--so do not give him this until you have the book in your hands, understand? I don’t want to get ripped off.”

She quickly counted the cash. “This is six hundred dollars, Kyle! How the hell can you afford a book more than a thousand bucks?”

“I’ve been saving for it for a long time, all right? The books I need aren’t ever cheap. It’s not like it’s something you can just pick up at Barnes and Noble. Do you understand me? Do not give him the cash until you have the book in your hands. He’ll know which one to give you.” He started over to the door, the evening sky filling the living room. “Try to get back before dark. We live on a Hellmouth--one of the reasons I hated Dad for moving us here.”

When the door slammed, Kathryn leaned the back of her head against the couch and closed her eyes in frustration. “I’m so sick of all this,” she groaned.

That’s all her brother ever talked about. Hellmouths and vampires and demons and slayers. She couldn’t honestly understand how anyone at his age could believe that stuff was real. It was to the point that Kyle would watch horror movies with her and he would point out the inaccuracies to the demon itself. At least he had the decency to only talk about it in front of his family, and other nutjobs on the internet, like Grigori--also known as Rupert, apparently. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to him if she started telling random people on the street or at his job about that crap. She loved her brother, but sometimes, she honestly worried about his mental stability.

Being scared of shapeless forms in the dark was one thing--although what she saw frightened her, she knew that it was just an overactive imagination and not real. Actually believing the monsters in the dark were real was something else altogether.

The house was actually quite decent-looking. Then again, the last group of people Kyle decided to meet in real life had been set up in an dingy looking detective agency with a crappy elevator. Hopefully this one didn’t claim to be a soul-having vampire searching for redemption. Honestly, it was one thing to humour her brother and listen to his stories to avoid an argument. She wouldn’t have minded if the guy believed in the demon stuff as well. But to exploit her brother’s beliefs and take advantage of him and mock him by letting him believe he’d actually met a redemptive vampire was rude, and as far as she was concerned, that bastard could rot in hell.

Unless he actually believed he was a vampire with a soul searching for redemption, and in that case, she wished he’d go get a CAT scan or some psychiatric help, at least.

She raised her hand to knock on the door, but just as she was about to, she saw a note. She plucked it off of the door with a sigh.

Kyle--

Something unexpected arose at the hospital, and it took precedence. I apologize for my absence. The book is on the table. Leave the money in its place.

--Rupert Giles (Grigori)

The only reason she noticed that there was no direct invitation into his house was because her brother also never gave direct invitation into their house. It was always either him stepping back and widening the door, or some other such way that wasn’t verbal. She could always tell when Kyle had met someone who truly believed the crap compared to people who were trying to con him out of something or were just trying to mock him. Anybody who really believed the things her brother believed never gave out verbal invites, and never met past dark unless necessary. To them, a verbal invite could mean death (as ridiculous as that sounded) and someone serious about the existence of vampires and such would not be flippant about inviting strangers into his home. At least this guy wasn’t conning her brother out of his money. That’s all she really cared about.

She opened the door and stepped in, shutting the door with a shake of her head. There was a book on the table, as the note promised. She crumbled up the note and threw it in the nearby garbage can as she fished through her purse.

She went over and looked at the book. No wonder it was so expensive--it was old as hell. The cover was in thick leather and it was scratched and worn, with meaningless designs etched into it. The binding was weary, but it didn’t look like it would fall apart anytime soon. She tossed the cash on the table and picked up the book, opening it and looking at the pages. The pages weren’t made of normal paper--it was made of something thicker and some of the ink was nearly faded. She closed it and tucked it under her arm.

She was nearly to the door when she heard; “So are you gonna let me out or what?”

She jumped, then let out a sigh. Whoever had yelled that had frightened her. She heard banging noises coming from the same direction as the voice. “Come on! This is bloody ridiculous!” the British man shouted more insistently.

She followed the banging and frustrated grunts to a closed door, more than a little curious as to what was going on. She opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. “Finally. God, my wrists are starting to chafe.”

He seemed to have noticed her the same time she noticed him. There was a bleached blonde man with his hair slicked back chained in a bathtub. His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, but she was sure his shocked expression was nothing compared to hers.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked incredulously, like she had somehow interrupted something private.

“What the hell are you doing chained in a bathtub?” she countered.

He looked down at the chains, then he looked back at her. His blue eyes found the book tucked under her arm. “Not stealing, are you? ‘Cause if you are, I can show you a couple of records that’ll make quite a decent bit of cash if you hock it. Only if I get half, though.”

“I’m not stealing. My brother paid for this.”

“Looks like one of those demon books. You’re not one of the Scoobs are you? I bloody well swear Summers gets more groupies every time I turn my back.”

“Scoobs, what? No. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. My brother talks to that Rupert guy on the internet, is all. You’re not one of those . . . vampire guys, are you?” she asked with a slight note of exasperation in her voice.

He worked the chains a bit and shifted around uncomfortably in the porcelain tub. Kathryn imagined that it couldn’t have been very pleasant. “Define vampire guys.” He jerked the chains a bit as if trying to break out of them, and she thought she saw a flicker of fear, as if she were going to attack him or something.

“Oh, you know, people who believe in vampires and demons and stuff. That’s why my brother bought the book--he believes in that crap.”

“So I take it you don’t then? Believe in that sort of thing?” he asked.

She scoffed and shook her head. “No, I don’t. No offence if you do or whatever, but it’s all just fantasy. It’s just some stupid little fairytale people like my brother hold onto so they don’t have to deal with reality. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, but . . . Well he just spent over a thousand dollars on a book about demons thinking they’re real when they’re not. Money he could have spent on something we actually need. Dad isn’t going to be pleased if he ever finds out.”

The man blinked a few times, then nodded. “Right, me too. Load of tosh, that demon nonsense. Anyway, could you get me outta here?” He lifted his wrists and jingled the chains a bit.

She nodded and out the toilet seat down so she could set the book on it. “Well yeah. Where are the keys?”

“Right there,” he asked, pointing. She followed the direction of his finger and found them, the dim bathroom light glinting off of them a bit.

She grabbed them and knelt beside the tub. “So why are you chained in this tub anyway?”

“Well, uh . . . It’s a long story, luv . . .” he mumbled, and she looked at him, noticing that he blanched slightly. “You’re not one of Buffy’s mates, right? You’re sure?”

“Who’s Buffy?” she asked.

“Never mind. But, um . . . I was stayin’ with this guy, Xander, and he’s a bloody pouf, and he didn’t like me stayin’ in his basement--not that I particularly liked it either--and so he sent me off here, and Giles doesn’t exactly trust me to be alone in his house and Buffy didn’t exactly feel like havin’ me come along so he chained me up.”

“And when you were staying with a guy, do you mean--” she began tentatively as she undid the shackles around his wrist.

“--being forced to stay with a whelp I can’t stand simply ‘cause I had nowhere else to go,” he finished for her as he massaged his wrists.

She nodded as she started undoing the shackles around his ankles. “And what didn’t they want you coming along to do?”

“Happy-happy joy-joy group singing and trust issue therapy; I don’t bloody know. Don’t really care for them much anyway. But, point is, they think I’m gonna take off or somethin’, don’t trust me a lot, not that I care I like ‘em about as much as being stabbed through the chest with a hot poker, so . . .”

He stood up in the tub and stretched his arms over his head. She heard his back pop and then he stepped out of the tub. “So they just chain you up? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You really don’t know them, do you?” he said incredulously.

She shook her head and put the keys where she found them, and then picked up her purse from off of the floor and took the book off of the toilet seat. “No, I’ve never even met any of these people. My brother just talks to Rupert on the internet. He’s into the whole demon thing.”

“Ah, right. So are they.”

“But you’re not?” she asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “Nope. So what are you doin’ here then? Just pickin’ up that book? Why couldn’t your brother do it?”

“Some idiot didn’t show up for work so they called him in, and he asked me to pick it up from him.” She left the bathroom and the guy followed her out of it. “So what’s you name, anyway?” she asked.

“Spike,” he answered. Kathryn thought it was a weird name, but figured it probably wasn’t his real one so she didn’t’ say anything. “What about you, luv?”

“Kathryn.”

“Where you headed to now, Kathryn?”

She shrugged. “Just home. I have homework to do.”

“Walking home in the dark? You sure your brother would approve? A nasty beastie might eat you,” he said, pointing at the window.

She looked out of it and saw the night sky. She groaned. “Dammit I hate walking home in the dark,” she grumbled, then looked at Spike, who was cocking an eyebrow. “And not because of nasty beasties. I just don’t like to.”

“Right, o’ course. You need someone to walk you there? Not that I really give a damn, but it beats bein’ chained up in a tub.”

Kathryn looked him over. She didn’t really know him, and she was sure that there would be a reason for them to mistrust him enough to chain him up in a tub, and suddenly she wondered if she should have undone him.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t care. I can think of something else to do to pass the time. I really don’t care much about you walkin’ all alone in the dark,” he said, shrugging, and she really got the feeling he honestly didn’t care what she wanted.

She thought about having to walk all the way back to her house in the dark, and she absolutely loathed the dark. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

He nodded once, and started over to the door. He grabbed a leather duster off of the hat stand and put it on. “Let’s go then.”

A/N--All right, so for continuity's sake, this fic takes place after Hush, but before A New Man. Please review--I would greatly appreciate it.