Title: Love Continued
Author: Slaymesoftly
Rating: NC17
Season III
Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me any more than they did the first time; but all hail Joss Whedon for inventing them.
Summary: The next in the series that began with the somewhat grim Loves Lost and continued in the angsty Love Awakened. Spike has returned to Sunnydale for a brief visit during which he was not really planning to let Buffy know he was there. As usual, his plans don’t work out quite like he expected.
Beta’d by the quick as a bunny and encouraging Always_jbj.
Love Continued
Joyce frowned when Buffy walked into the living room and threw herself down on the couch with a groan. One of the side effects of Buffy’s slayer strength and healing was that she rarely, if ever, got tired or sick. And yet, for the third afternoon this week, she had come home from school and rested on the couch until it was time for her to patrol.
“Maybe you should skip patrol tonight, Buffy,” her mother said kindly. “You really seem to be dragging and I think you should get more rest.”
Buffy heaved a sigh and shook her head wearily.
“Can’t do that, Mom. If I don’t patrol tonight, I’ll just have twice as many to slay tomorrow night. I’ll be all right. I’m just tired and sort of…weak.”
“Weak? You feel weak? Well, that’s it then. You are not going out there like that, young lady. I’ll just call Mr. Giles and tell him—“
“Mom! No. I’ll be fine. I won’t go out for long, I promise. Just a quick patrol through the closest cemeteries and I’ll come home. I promise.”
Joyce eyed her daughter dubiously, but in the end she gave in. Buffy was turning eighteen the next day and could no longer be considered a child, even if she hadn’t had her childhood ripped from her at an earlier age than most. She tried not to hold the girl’s watcher responsible for what had happened to Buffy the year before, but the fact that her daughter’s torment had occurred at the hands of someone who was trying to get back at the British librarian continued to stick with her and Joyce’s relationship with the other adult in Buffy’s life was tense at best.
Fortunately for Giles, Joyce was in bed and asleep when Buffy got home from her abbreviated patrol. She didn’t see the fear on her daughter’s face, or the scratches and bruises from the fight Buffy had almost lost against a fledgling vampire.
The following afternoon, during the slow dinnertime period, Joyce went into the back of the gallery to begin unpacking some new items. She had her head buried in a large wooden carton when the lid fell, temporarily trapping her with her upper body inside the box and her feet barely touching the floor. While struggling to get a good purchase with her feet so that she could pull herself out of the box without ripping her dress, she heard the back door fly open and just as quickly close with a bang. There was a startled “Bloody hell?” and then the lid was gone and she was able to clamber out of the box with some embarrassment.
As she had feared, holding the lid easily in one hand and grinning at her while she straightened her clothes and tried not to look mortified was the bleached blond vampire with whom Buffy had spent so much time the previous year. Lying beside him on the floor was the smoking blanket he had used to dodge the late afternoon sun while bolting from the manhole to the gallery’s back door.
Her gratitude for being released from the box was diluted by the knowledge that she was sure Spike was not in Sunnydale to see her. While Buffy had not yet found another man who could spark the same feelings that the blond vampire had been able to awaken, she had begun casually dating and seemed to once again be enjoying her life as a high school student. The reappearance of the man whose leaving had so devastated her did not bode well for Buffy’s continued recovery from heartbreak.
To Joyce’s surprise, rather than asking where Buffy was, he rather abruptly demanded, “When is Buffy’s birthday? Is she eighteen yet?”
Misunderstanding his question completely, Joyce drew herself up to her full height and glared at the master vampire.
“Since when do you care how old she is?” she asked pointedly.
“Don’t,” he said flatly, understanding immediately that she was referring to his short-lived sexual relationship with Buffy. “But you should.”
She glared at him with offended surprise and waited impatiently for an explanation.
“An’ you can bet the Watcher does,” he added enigmatically. “So, answer me, when’s her birthday?”
“It’s tomorrow,” Joyce snapped, angry at both his tone and his unexpected arrival. “Are you planning to make breaking her heart an annual event? Because, if you are, I can—“
He shook his head vigorously, cutting her off before she could finish her threat.
“You know you wanted me gone, Joyce. Don’t try to pretend you didn’t. She’s young, she’ll get over me.”
“Not if you keep coming back, she won’t!” She didn’t bother to deny his accusation. “You don’t know how long it took her to begin to enjoy life again. Showing up here is just going to—“
“She doesn’t need to know I’m here,” he said, shocking her to silence as she tried to understand why he would come to Sunnydale if not to see Buffy. “I’m not here for her,” he continued, adding, “Well, I am, but not that she needs to know about. I’m here to see her Watcher and to make sure she survives the barbaric ritual the Council of Wankers uses to reward slayers who’ve managed to live to adulthood.”
“What are you talking about?” Joyce’s happiness that he wasn’t going to disrupt Buffy’s life at odds with the fear his words engendered.
With a sigh, he slumped against a wooden crate and gave her a quick version of what happened to Slayers on their eighteenth birthdays. Joyce’s face darkened as she realized the reason for Buffy’s sudden weakness and exactly who was responsible for it.
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” she muttered, reaching for the crow bar she had used to wrench the lids off the crates.
“So, I’m on time then? It hasn’t happened?” Relief was evident on the vampire’s face. “I got held up and almost didn’t get here. I was afraid I was going to be too late.”
“Not yet, it hasn’t. But it must be soon. Buffy has been tired and weak for days now. We thought she had a touch of the flu and I thought Giles was being a bastard for sending her out to patrol while she was sick. Now I see he’s even more of a bastard than I thought! I’m going to kill him,” she repeated, still hefting the heavy metal bar.
“Don’t let her go out tonight, Joyce,” he pleaded while mentally applauding her threats against the watcher. “I don’t care what she says. Hit her with that bar if you have to, but don’t let her go anywhere near her watcher. He’s going to be setting her up for the test and just in case I don’t find out where it’s going to be held in time to take care of it, I don’t want her anywhere near him. Can you do that?”
Joyce studied the vampire’s anxious face and her own expression softened.
“You do love her, don’t you, Spike,” she said softly, making it more a statement than a question.
“I do,” he answered simply. “With everything I am and have.” He shook himself abruptly. “An’ that’s why I’m not going to see her while I’m here. She doesn’t need another vampire in her life. But I’ll be watchin’ over her – and you,” he added with a smile. “Not gonna let anything happen to my girls – even if I’m not right here, I won’t be so far away that I can’t get back quickly if you need me.”
“How will you know? If we need you, I mean.”
“I’ll know, Joyce. My name still carries a little weight with the demons in this town. Trust me. I’ll know.” He stopped talking and looked around the storage room with interest. “You have some nice pieces here,” he said appreciatively. “You’ve got good taste, Joyce.”
“So does my daughter,” she said softly, putting a soft kiss on his cool cheek, then turning away so as to hide the laughter inspired by his obvious embarrassment.
“You’d best be getting’ home,” he said gruffly. “You’ll need to be there to catch her when she gets home from school. And remember, don’t let her go out with the watcher.”
“It would really not be in Giles’ best interest to be anywhere near my home for a while,” she said grimly.
“Jus’ keep her safe, Joyce. You let me worry about the Watcher and the team from the Council of Wankers.”
With a silent nod, she went back out into the main part of the gallery and told her employees she was leaving early. When she returned to the storeroom, it was empty and there was only a scattering of ashes on the floor where the blanket had been.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!