I own absolutely nothing except the dust bunnies under my bed and even they have a lien on them...


I'm not very sure about this one. Yet another bunny that refused to be ignored. As always, reviews, comments, opinions and suggestions are eagerly anticipated and welcomed.

Timeline:
Spike is chipped in 1999.
Oz leaves Sunnydale for good 5/2000 and ends up in London.
Spike leaves Sunnydale 5/2002 after attacking B in bathroom. Does not make it back to Sunnydale after leaving Africa but is rerouted to London.


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Macha



He wandered. Awareness of the sun was purely instinctual as it chased him into hiding each morning. The scent of danger drew him out at dusk, ever searching. Incoherence would not allow an articulate reply if one were brave enough to ask what he searched for. The other creatures of the night soon learned to flee at the sight of the unhinged being, set upon them by fate.

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The sound of fighting captured his attention and he ambled toward it in a deceptively loose gait. At the entrance of an alleyway, sharp eyes pierced the dark to watch as a pack of massive wolves attacked a group of L’OkTulj demons. The pack was doing rather well but in the blink of an eye the fight turned in favor of the demons. Two of the pack members were knocked unconscious, leaving only three to finish. Seeing this, the pale creature jumped into the fray and silently tore into the nearest demon. Working as a unit, the remaining wolves took out the last demon. They turned a wary eye on the creature, unsure why one such as he had assisted them. With his task completed, he sat on the ground. His gaze never strayed from the ground, his humming and rocking unnerving the pack. Two of the Weres transformed to a man-wolf form and gathered the injured to move them to safety. As the last Were' passed, the rocking stopped and his eye was caught by a familiar blue gaze.

“Spike.” The name was growled like an accusation with bared teeth and angry eyes.

Hysterical laughter erupted from the vampire as he resumed his rocking. “American werewolf in London. Pulling me here. Tried to go back, give her what she deserves. Not me is the presumption.” Silent tears rolled down his sunken cheeks.

The wolf shook his head at the sight of the broken vampire as his voice trailed off. Reverting to his human form, Oz stepped closer to Spike and crouched down to eye level. Spike stared into the Were’s eyes for a moment but dropped his gaze as Oz snorted in disbelief.

“Dude… When… how? You have a soul?!”

The sound of Oz’s voice startled Spike and he jumped to his feet, pointing in Oz’s general direction. “You shut up! Can’t feed… can’t live, won’t DIE!” He practically screamed the last word as he whirled and ran down the alley. Oz watched, curiosity lighting his blue eyes as Spike stopped at the sidewalk, his head tilted as if listening for something. The vampire looked one way then the other before turning his gaze back to Oz. With a bright smile and a small wave, Spike turned to the right and resumed his endless search.


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After the third consecutive night in a week that the blonde vampire suddenly appeared to lend his assistance, Oz and his pack began to watch for him on their patrols. Rarely coherent, Spike would help and then babble at the redhead before moving on. With each meeting, Spike’s appearance seemed to deteriorate. Oz began to worry that the vampire was unable to feed due to the chip he assumed was still implanted in Spike’s head. The Were’ started keeping a supply of fresh pig’s blood in the van in anticipation of their next meeting. There had been a token protest over helping the vampire, but Spike had been more than helpful and the half-hearted disagreement faded. Oz was relieved to see that after a week of regular nourishment Spike had regained his former fitness although sans the Billy Idol hair. He had about two inches of light brown at the scalp of his thick curly hair that threatened to turn into an afro if left alone. The sight of the once proud Master vampire with two-toned locks wearing dirty, rumpled clothing caused Oz to wince. His aroma was also unpleasant to the Pack and Oz prompted one of the women to offer her assistance in cleaning him up.

Spike only allowed it when the Elder Were’ agreed to supervise. Mumblings of assurance he wouldn’t hurt her concerned Oz and he wondered what had happened to Spike.

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He was late for his rendezvous with the wolves, but he couldn’t deny the power guiding him. Knowing his search was coming to a close, Spike increased his pace as he caught the scent of something intriguing.

Senses on high alert, he followed his nose to a deserted alley and hesitated at the entrance, unsure. As he turned to continue on a nearly silent whimper caught his attention and he shot down the murky lane, skidding to a stop behind the only dumpster. Huddled against the stone wall was a shivering mass of ebony hair and dirty clothes. Spike was mesmerized by the sight until another whimper spurred him into action. He crouched down and got a whiff of blood and sick. A dark eye peered at him through the curtain of hair and as she took a breath to scream he shushed the young woman, holding his hands palms out to reassure he meant no harm.

“You’re all done in girl. Needing help. The first time, sickness gets worse the closer you get to the moon. I can help you, keep you safe. Must keep you safe. Come, let me care for you.”

“Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, sweets, ‘m not here to hurt you. Been sent to care for you, train you.”

“Train me? For what?”

“For the good fight of course. Come here girl and let ol’ Spike fix you up right proper. ‘av a right good set up waiting. Warm and clean.”

Holding his hand out, he swept her into his arms as she accepted him. He cradled her gently and she marveled at his strength. For the first time in weeks the young woman felt safe and fell into a deep sleep.
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She woke up in a warehouse loft, her bed a soft pallet of blankets. A whiff of frying meat and hunger hit swiftly, causing her to curl into a ball and whimper. The smell grew stronger and she sat up when a pale hand placed the source on the pallet next to her. Dark eyes flew up to meet a crystalline blue and she sighed in relief upon recognizing the face as belonging to the man who helped her.

“Hungry?”

“Yes thank you.” She reached for the plate and squeaked in surprise when she realized the blanket was her only covering. She looked around frantically, wincing when her sore shoulders pulled. “Where are my clothes?”

“Had to chuck ‘em. Smelled somethin’ awful.”

“Who undressed me?”

“I did of course. No one else here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Get a good look then?”

His blue eyes clouded over and he seemed to fold into himself. “Hey now! ‘m not here to service the girl. No peering at soft places. Like a baby you were.” He reared back and straightened his spine. “I prefer to be wanted. Don’t like taking.” His breath hitched. “Don’t want to hurt the girl.” His voice trailed off to a soft quiver and began pacing, rubbing his chest over his heart.

She watched him and an unfamiliar and unwelcome guilt flowed over her, making her eyes prick with tears in sympathy. Her voice was soft as she tried to capture the man’s attention. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I don’t know who to trust. You’ve been very kind so far.” He looked up when she began speaking and when she was done the sorrow had vanished form his ocean colored eyes.

“ ’s alright. I’m used to it. I got you some new clothes if you’d like to get dressed after you eat.”

“Um, could I have them now?”

“Sure, sure. Hanging in the loo.” He spoke to her retreating back. “Your wand is on the sink.” She stiffened at that last bit but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her wand was indeed on the edge of the sink. It was balanced on a pair of white cotton socks and knickers. There was a tank, a hoodie and a dark pair of jeans hanging on the back of the door and she got dressed quickly, pausing briefly to inspect the damage to her arm. It was healing far more rapidly than it should be and realized with a rapid sinking sensation that she was most likely infected.

‘Buggering hell.’ Her parents would be rolling in their graves; if she had bothered burying them that is. ‘Why waste good money on stupid sheep?’ Many of the Death Eater parents had received a nasty shock when their children turned mid-battle and fought for the other side. Pansy took in a steadying breath and left the loo in search of much needed food.

He was sipping out of a white mug when she emerged and she eyed him warily. There was an odd smell wafting from it and she shook her head. ‘Is this what Professor Lupin lived with… how did he stand it?’

“You find your wand?”

“Yes.” Suspicion lit her eyes. “How do you know about wands?”

“Live as long as I have, you run across all types. Long as you don’t go pointin’ that thing at me, we’ll get along just fine.” He waved at the plate on the counter. “Have a bite, could hear your stomach all the way from the loo.”

She tucked into her first real meal in weeks and didn’t notice when Spike picked up her wand and set it on the table.

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Spike could feel her studying him and ignored it, knowing she would speak when she was ready.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He set his book down on his lap. “Of course.”

“Did you say that you were sent to train me or was that a hallucination?”

“Not a dream. You need training. They won’t be coming for you now that the Moon has you, but need trainin’ just the same.”

“Wait, who won’t be coming for me? And do you realize you sound a bit mad?”

He rubbed his head agitatedly. “It’s the spark. It burns so bright. Messes with my head. Bringers lost your scent.” He stood and moved toward the door. “Have to go now. Be back later. Not safe for you outside. Stay?”

“You’re leaving? I have so many questions! And there are people after me, how can I protect myself without my wand?”

He pointed to the only table and she noticed her wand standing on its end in a tall glass.

“Oh, um thank you.”

Spike turned to leave.

“What’s your name?”

“Spike.”

“I’m Pansy.”

“Beautiful flowers that thrive in the cold. Stay inside.” Pansy watched him walk out the door and suspected he wouldn’t return for a long time. She picked up his book and managed to get through three chapters before succumbing to sleep.


As if called, Spike appeared when her dreams began to take on a sinister tone. He watched over her as she moaned and whimpered, stroking her dark hair and humming soothingly.


* * *

Weak legs gave way and Pansy fell into her favorite chair, stunned at the news Harry had just delivered. His cold eyes and voice sent a chill racing down her back as she processed the fact that one of her only true friends and former lover was dead. Unable to form a more intelligent question she asked, “What?”

“Ron was ambushed in Diagon Alley Pans. He was alone.”

“I don’t understand. Why was he there? His family is still being targeted by uncaptured Death Eaters.”

“Are you sure you don’t know why?”

“The last contact I had with Ron was a month ago. He owled me for gift advice for Molly’s birthday. I told him about the new bookstore in Hogsmead and suggested a cookbook. Why would he go to the Alley?”

A feeling of dread overrode her grief as Harry merely stared at her with peculiarly cold eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that? What the bloody hell is going on?”

Harry reached into his robes and Hermione tensed. He pulled out a scroll and unrolled it, holding it up so she could read it. “This was found in his pocket.”

Pansy leaned forward to take it, and shot him an irritated glare when he stepped back, unwilling to let her make physical contact with the page. She resumed her inspection of the scroll and recognized her handwriting.

Ron,

I changed my mind. I’ll meet you for lunch at the Wolf’s Head Inn.

Love,
Pansy


A wave of numbness washed over her at the implication in his voice. “Harry, this note is almost two years old!”

“Oh Really?”

The derision in his voice caused anger to flare hot in her chest, chasing away the numbness. “Yes! This is when we both decided to stop dating and remain friends.”

“Then why has he been telling me the two of you were getting back together?”

“This is insane! Harry, I haven’t talked to Ron in at least a month! I’ve been under a serious deadline at work. I’ve only just finished. That’s why I’m here and not at the office!”

“I SAW YOU WITH HIM JUST LAST WEEK! I didn’t join you two at the table because Ron had said you were keeping it a secret.” The loudness of his response shocked her into momentary silence.

“Harry! You have to believe me. Whomever you saw with Ron was not me!”

“Your assistant has given initial confirmation that the dates Ron met with you, you were not in your office.”

“Mandy Brocklehurst has only been my assistant for two weeks. And we both know that her parents, at the least, were supporters of Voldemort, if not actual Death Eaters.”

“And I suppose the hair in his bed isn’t yours either?”

“Hair?”

“Yes hair, Pansy. Yours.”

“That could have been taken from the brush I keep in my desk at work. This is ridiculous! I can’t believe what you are accusing me of! How can you talk to me like this? You’ve just told me one of my only friends is dead and now you’re acting as if I am the one responsible.”

“What else can I think Pans? He’s talked of nothing but you for weeks! I haven’t seen you for more than three months. Even then, it was for a whole ten minutes.”

“I’ve been working! And communication works both ways you know. I haven’t had an owl from you in… What?”

“There has been a push for a full investigation.”

“Am I being charged?”

“Not as yet. You are, however, immediately confined to your home until after the initial investigation.”

“How am I supposed to work?”

“The Ministry has suspended you with pay until a determination is made. If it is decided that they will pursue an indictment you will be taken into custody.”

“Am I allowed representation then?”

“You will be allowed to appoint your choice of representation… ”

“Until I’m railroaded you mean! And don’t dare ask for my wand! I’m not about to sit around unprotected!”

Pansy watched Harry with a hurt filled gaze. “You really think I could do something like that to Ron?”

His cold stare froze her to the bone. “The thought of you being capable of doing this to Ron makes me ill and there is nothing to support your claim of innocence.”

Her heart shattered and she sneered in automatic defense. “There he is. I knew it was all an act. I knew all of your talk about change and acceptance was tripe.” Her voice quivered, “Get out Harry. Have them send someone else to talk to me; I don’t want you in my house ever again!”

A distraught Pansy failed to see the malicious gleam lighting Harry’s eyes before he turned his back and disappeared without a sound; something else she failed to notice on a conscious level.

Still in shock, she took advantage of her housemate’s absence and remained in the darkening living room, unable to grieve properly because of the rage flowing through her veins. She sat for what seemed like hours, trying to think of someone who could help her. Draco was out of the country and there was no one else she could trust.

Adrenaline spiked as heavy footsteps sounded in her upstairs bedroom and Pansy attempted to Apparate to safety but was thwarted by what were probably antiapparition wards. Cursing, she bolted for the front door and made it halfway down the lane before a slicing hex hit her in the leg. Stumbling, she was tackled from behind by something large and smelly. Large hands gripped her shoulders and Pansy cried out as claws bit into her skin through her robes. She landed hard on her back and her stomach rolled at the sight of Greyback’s malicious grin. She watched in horror as his teeth lengthened and he snapped in her face, wanting her to scream. She raised her arm to fend him off, but he managed to bite her left arm before she stabbed her wand through his right eye and into his brain. His limp body rolled off with a strained push and she was able to rise and stagger passed the ward boundary. With a silent prayer, Pansy Apparated away, not knowing where she was headed and hoping she didn’t splinch.

Pansy had no rest for weeks. It seemed like every time she found somewhere to rest, strange people with mutilated eyes would find her. It took all of her strength to apparate. She was hiding behind a dumpster, hoping that when they came for her they would kill her quick because she didn’t have enough strength to apparate again.

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A/N: The CoW were not able to track Pansy due to her magical status and the Bringers stopped searching for her after her infection. Werewolves are considered Dark creatures and she was no longer considered a Potential by the First.

This all started with the first paragraph and then grew from there.

Not entirely sure I'll keep going with this. It all depends on whether people are interested and/or like it. Help with Pansy's characterization would be most appreciated.