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| In Omne Tempus - Careful Where You Stand by Holly (1 Review) | | - - - abc |  | | | Chapter Nine
Careful Where You Stand
Buffy awoke bubbling with a sensation she had never felt before. It was strange—wholly girlish and slightly terrifying, but overwhelmingly good. As though she had discovered chocolate for the first time and felt it was time to over-indulge for the many years she had missed its sweetness.
It was so strange. Never in all her life had she thought anything like what had occurred the night before could happen to her. Just when she had made peace with her fate—the law that all slayers were destined to live their brief lives alone—a vampire she tried so hard to forget came storming back into her life. A vampire.
Spike.
He was dangerously addictive. In just one night, she had found her Achilles Heel.
Never had she thought it would be in the form of her enemy. Never had she thought it would come to her in the form of a revived a dream, buried so long ago.
It was so strange, the things she chose to remember. When she was nine, she had forced herself to stop thinking about Spike. Forced herself to stop hoping he would return to her some night, and convinced herself that the eyes she felt following her everywhere didn’t exist. She took what became an infatuation and forced herself to cut old strings.
It had seemed like such a monumental decision, being nine years old. And the amazing thing was, it had worked. Once she cut Spike’s memory out of her life, she had found herself living in a world with no expectations. With the promise of nothing in her future. It seemed strange now that she had thought of such dreary, adult things as a child, but Buffy similarly acknowledged that she had grown up very fast. And even before she reached the age of ten, she had felt things that she realized now were far too mature for her to have experienced.
Now he was back. Spike was back in her life. He had exploded back into her world, and everything she had once relied on was, once again, scrambling to piece itself back together. She had no idea what to feel, or why the feelings she did feel were as strong as they were. In one night, he had taken down all the barriers she had thought she had so carefully constructed around her heart. He had invaded her. He had, for all intents and purposes, violated her…and she had invited him into her home.
Dangerously addictive.
Willow often asked her why she never managed more than one or two dates to the few boys that had asked her out since she arrived in Sunnydale. It wasn’t due to the fact that she was repulsive, or that her reputation as a troublemaker sent potentials boyfriends screaming. And try as she might, Cordelia Chase’s affinity for gossip hadn’t done much to tarnish the mystery that Buffy’s fellow classmates insisted on forcing on her character. Her evasive manner only served to up the male interest in her. She simply hadn’t felt the drive to date the same guy for more than a week at a time. She was a heartbreaker, some said. No one could come close to touching her.
That was until last night, when she finally felt that it was right.
And that was what terrified her. The past few years, she had spent so much time constructing an impenetrable wall around her heart. Ever since she resigned herself to the acceptance that she was the Slayer, and she was therefore destined to be alone. She never felt right when she was sharing herself with anyone.
Then Spike came back into her life, and it felt as though a missing piece had been reattached; a piece that she hadn’t known was gone until he gave it back to her, and now felt that she could not live without. His invasion of her body the night before had hurt, but the pain had quickly dwarfed to pleasure; her insides had rattled with the burden of completion, and the feeling had overwhelmed her.
She had cried. She remembered racing home, the air impossibly cold for southern California, wind slapping her tear-stained face as her mind spun out of control. As she searched futilely for an answer to everything that had happened between them, settling at last with the bubbling euphoria that Spike was back. After so many years, after forcing herself to forget, Spike was back.
Only he was a vampire. The one she had waited for was a vampire.
Irony, how I mock thee.
It wasn’t fair. God, it wasn’t fair. She’d shut herself out, only to open herself to the one person she shouldn’t want, and could never have.
He was a vampire. A very torn, very hot vampire. It was strange; after she was called, Buffy had thought she would be drawn to vampires simply because of the ‘forbidden fruit’ thing, and due to the fact that they always looked flawless and beautiful in movies. Well, more current movies. The old movies hadn’t been very generous to vampires. Still, that notion fell to the wayside after her first few patrols. Vampires were snarling nasties—better off as dust, and not only to save innocents. She had yet to find a vampire that truly embodied everything Anne Rice seemed to find so glamorous.
Spike was different. He was gorgeous. Like a fallen angel, pale with the glow of what he had once been. Furthermore, he looked at her as though she was the sunrise he had not seen in over a hundred years. Even when his eyes had roamed her body, there had been flecks of awe within his gaze that even lust could not eradicate.
Buffy’s mind was a jumbled mess. She should have been outraged at what he’d done to her the night before, and yet, all she could think of was how it had felt, beyond the terror. Beyond the pain of a foreign touch. Despite however much her mind had rebelled against him, her body had been more than receptive to his ministrations, and berated her for running like a coward after he explained that he was seconds from losing control.
Faced with him, there was familiarity and something else. Something she couldn’t quite grasp. Something that told her that Spike belonged to her. Only the notion was ridiculous. Despite what he had said the night before, she didn’t own anyone, much less a vampire. And she certainly didn’t belong to anyone.
That didn’t stop the very girlish part of her secret identity from doing cartwheels. There should have been outrage, but there wasn’t. There was only glee. Glee that couldn’t be shadowed with confusion.
Everything was so messed up. She had a very hot vampire that had taken the few kisses she’d given and received and turned them into fragmented, unwanted memories. Her body wanted no one but Spike.
Willow was going to be thrilled. For the first time since they’d forged their friendship, she had a guy to gossip about. A guy who wasn’t Owen, who only liked her because she had taken him to a morgue once. A guy who wasn’t Jeffrey, her stupid pre-Slayer ex that had convinced her that she was in love with him simply because they held hands at school.
Granted, she had never truly thought she was in love with him. She’d been all of fourteen at the time, and was more concerned with the idea that such might be as close as she ever came to love.
Much too adult thoughts for a girl of that age.
Hell, I still think I’m too young for this.
Buffy went through her morning routine as though her life hadn’t changed, and she took some comfort in normality. She made breakfast, snagged a note her mother had left for her on the fridge that apologized for the short notice, but she would be out of town for the next week or so. Joyce’s aunt, Marti, had suffered a stroke in LA. Buffy’s mother was incredibly close to Marti, and had left around three in the morning after the call arrived. More over, the convention that Joyce was supposed to host began the following Monday, thus she’d be taking some extra time off.
Buffy hadn’t told her, but the convention conductor had phoned the day before to inform her that her mother was also receiving an award, but the plaque wouldn’t be ready for another two weeks. The job itself had been motive enough for Joyce to agree. She was being paid richly for it, which had been the only reason she agreed at the eleventh hour.
She tried hard to suppress shivers of anticipation. This certainly frees up the house for guests of the nocturnal persuasion.
Buffy expelled a deep breath and made herself some toast. While she was confident that Spike wouldn’t hurt her—for reasons she couldn’t totally understand—she was more than wary of letting him so close so soon, especially with how loose a grip he seemed to have on his control.
With how badly he affected her, how desperately he made her want him when he should be dust for what he’d done to her. How she believed him with no reason to. How he made her want.
And God, she did want.
Yep, a visit with Giles was exactly what the doctor ordered. Maybe he’d have some answers. Maybe he could explain glowy-eye vamps that made her knees go weak.
She wanted to know if she could truly trust Spike, or if the comfort she felt was there because he wanted it there.
She hoped so. This playing it by ear thing would definitely get old soon.
Giles would know. Giles always knew.
Always. He wouldn’t let her down.
*~*~*
Giles cast a disapproving look in her direction when she waltzed into the library. He was stacking books, tweeded up as usual, and looking even more uptight than he was on most days.
“I thought we discussed this,” he said. “You’re not to come here when you’re otherwise scheduled to be in class. You know how Principal Snyder—”
“Makes with the weasel. Yeah. I believe I got that memo. What? You think I’d be here after last time if it wasn’t important?”
“Well, we both know how well you listen to me, and I happen to think you like me a bit more than you do him.”
Buffy shook her head. “That doesn’t make me any more or less inclined to listen to either of you when you’re not with the sense-making, but that’s not the reason I decided that the social decline of 17th Century Europe could be missed today. Something’s happened, Giles. Something big.”
As expected, that earned the full attention of her Watcher. Gone was the disapproving father, replaced with the old professor that loved analyzing prophesies and telling her the many ways she was scheduled to die in upcoming months. He was refreshingly predictable like that.
“What is it?” he asked, his former ire completely gone.
“I ran into a vampire last night.”
There was a pause. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t be dropping by to report an average patrol,” he said cautiously. “Unless you’re desperate to get out of class.”
“This vampire wasn’t like any vamp I’ve faced before.”
Giles perked his brows. “Oh?”
“He was…” Mine. “He…he didn’t want to kill me. And his eyes…they were all glowy.”
She froze. Her Watcher had a look on his face that clearly eluded to thoughts on a prophesy that involved her and untimely death.
At least, such had been the case the last time he had that look.
“Giles?”
There was a sharp breath. “Good Lord.”
“What?” Buffy’s eyes were wide. “Come on, you can’t ‘Good Lord’ me and then pretend like you aren’t on the far side of wigged.”
Giles glanced down, avoiding her gaze. “Erm—yes, quite right. I only mean, vampires with glowing eyes…that definitely is something that you have never seen before.”
“I so totally do not buy that.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That he was…” Heat rushed to her cheeks. “A lot of things, actually. Giles…there’s something I never told you…about when I was little.” She waited until she had his eyes again before continuing. “When I was four, I was kidnapped.”
“Good Lord.”
“Okay, you really need to stop doing that.” Buffy shook her head. “I was kidnapped…by vampires, actually.”
She’d shocked him into silence.
“Giles?”
“It’s not possible that they would have known of your calling—”
“No. No, no. God, no. But I was kidnapped by vampires…or, one vampire. I don’t remember much except that the same vampire that I saw last night was the one that rescued me.” She waited as Giles swore something British and removed his glasses for the expected handkerchief polish. “And he said then, which I didn’t remember until he reminded me last night, that he’d be back for me.”
There was a long, heavy silence.
“Why on earth haven’t you told me all of this before?” Giles demanded. “Why is this the first I am hearing of your—”
She frowned. “Umm, hello? It’s not like I automatically connected the dots. I’d half convinced myself that I imagined the entire ‘my captors have funny foreheads’ thing. It wasn’t until last night that I was sure. Besides? Totally not the point.” A pause. “Look, I can’t kill this vamp…this vamp I ran into last night.”
“The one with the glowing eyes?” the Watcher asked softly.
“Well, they didn’t glow the entire time. Just at first, but…” Buffy exhaled deeply, her heart racing a bit just thinking of him. “But I can’t kill him. And I don’t mean just that I don’t want to, ‘cause really, I don’t want to…but the thought…it makes me…”
“The thought of killing this vampire has a physical effect on you?”
He said he’d sooner stake himself. And I’d sooner let myself become vamp food.
That thought nearly knocked her off her feet, and her insides grew cold all over again.
What the hell is going on?
Buffy’s eyes found the ground. Suddenly, she couldn’t keep from shaking.
Spike didn’t tell me everything. And now Giles is even more uptight than usual.
“Yes,” she answered softly. “And I…you know what it means, don’t you?”
It wasn’t so much a question as it was an accusation, and the Watcher caught the tone immediately. “I can’t be sure,” he said. “And I’d rather not alarm you right now with my theory.”
“No, ‘cause I’m the picture of mental stability.”
A shadow crossed his face, and he sighed heavily. “Buffy…”
“No, really. It’s only my life, right? My life but not my existence. I don’t get to know what’s going on with me until you and your stupid Council does.” She made a face, turning to leave. “I’m gonna go to class. Suddenly, Europe’s social decline sounds very appealing.”
“Bloody social decline,” Giles muttered. “Look, Buffy—”
“Oh.” She stopped on her way out and faced him once more. “Before I forget…Spike, my vampire, said for you to look up some vamp called Ang…Angelus? Does that sound right?”
The Watcher went unspeakably pale.
“What?”
“What else did your vampire say?”
Buffy felt a warm rush at that. My vampire. Yes, she was quite certain that Spike was her vampire. All else besides, that was the one certainty the night before had given her. Spike was definitely hers.
“To look up the Order of Cornelius.”
“Aurelius, you mean?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one.” Giles looked even more miserable at this, inspiring the cold burn to return without much incentive. “What? What’s—”
“That’s the Master’s line,” he replied grimly. “The Order of Aurelius.”
Buffy froze completely. “T-he Master? As in the ‘let’s open the Hellmouth’ Master?”
“The one and only. Did he say why we needed to research Angelus and the Order?”
“B-because they’re in Sunnydale. Well, he said some nasty vamps have come to Sunnydale, and then he mentioned Angelus and the…oh God. So that makes Aurelius vamps, what, family of the Master?”
Giles nodded. “As far as families go, yes, that’s an accurate description.”
Okay, panicking.
“S-so, what?” Buffy demanded. “These vamps just…just blow into my town and suddenly are all with the…oh God, what are they doing here?”
“It’s possible they’re seeking vengeance for the death of the Master.”
“Three years later?”
The Watcher shrugged. “Perhaps they decided to take the scenic route.”
“Okay, you’re choosing now to be a smart-ass?”
“I have my moments.” Giles expelled a deep breath. “I’m going to read up on the Order and Angelus. You go onto class, and come here straight after. We’re going to want to know what we’re up against.”
We’re, he says. Like he’s out there risking his ass every night.
Buffy nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. Right now, she preferred the environment of text books and note-taking to the reality that constantly tagged at her heels. At least she had lunch with Willow to look forward to.
A vampire out there that had made it very clear that he would fight on her side.
Cold comfort’s better than none, she thought.
Hopefully she’d have more answers before nightfall.
When she saw Spike next, she wanted to be prepared.
*~*~*
Willow was staring at her blankly.
“Okay, you’re joking,” she said. “No man can look that good.” She turned to Oz and flushed a little, smiling. “No offense.”
The werewolf shrugged. “No, I agree,” he said. “This guy sounds like the new hotness.”
Buffy giggled. God, she loved Oz. His dry wit was occasionally the only motivator she had to get through a day. And she couldn’t be happier for Willow. The redhead and her boyfriend were honestly too cute together. And bonus—they didn’t perform a mass gropefest in public in the manner of Xander and Cordy. With Oz, it was as though she was just hanging out with friends more than feeling as third-wheely as she did when around Xander and Queen C. They were very obviously a couple. Willow and Oz were friends who dated each other; there was a difference.
And that difference was the largest motivator for the redhead to invite Buffy everywhere, including to dances where she’d otherwise be going stag. While the Slayer often joked about it, there were never any genuine third-wheel vibes. She just preferred to give her friends a little time to be Willow and Oz The Couple without her tagging along.
“Not joking. He’s…gah, he’s just…” She blushed. “Okay, I’ll be frank. He’s sex on legs, is what he is.”
“Buffy!”
“Well, he is!”
Willow was positively beaming. “Buffy has a crush!” she said shockingly, glancing around as though their conversation was being monitored. “Does he go here? Is he someone I know?”
Errr…
“He’s not exactly…a student.”
The redhead’s eyes flashed scandalously. “Oooh! You’re crushing on an older man?”
“Older…now there’s a word.”
“Huh?”
Buffy licked her lips and glanced down. “Heskindofavampire.”
“He’s a what?”
“A vampire,” Oz translated, shrugging when Willow’s gaze widened in horror. “Buffy’s joined the club of otherworldly significant others.” He nodded at the Slayer and took a sip of his orange juice. “We have hats.”
“Wait, whoa, hold the phone.” The redhead waved a hand. “You’re crushing on a vampire?!”
“Gee, thanks, Will. I don’t think they heard you in Scandinavia.”
“But Buffy…with the bad? With the fangs and the grrr?”
The Slayer’s brows arched. “Your boyfriend is sitting right next to you.”
Oz shrugged and popped a fry into his mouth.
“But…I…I don’t get it. Aren’t vampires the bad guys?”
Buffy shook her head. “Not this one…not in the way…I don’t know. This one saved my life…a long time ago. And yeah, last night, he was rather…” Rough. “Enthusiastic. He…ummm…I guess he’d been waiting for me for a while.”
“Waiting for you?”
The Slayer just smiled. “Something like. He’s not like the other vampires.” God, how cliché is that? “He’s a hottie who seems to really…I can’t explain it. He’s just…there’s something different about him.”
“Like ‘kill you dead’ different?” Willow asked, concerned.
“No. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Buffy—”
“Trust me. He wouldn’t do that.” You didn’t see him last night when he thought he’d hurt me. “But I know you’re right…I’m not going to try and pretend like he’d be the picnic-on-the-beach type. And I don’t think he’d wanna take me to the dance, or get a house with a white-picket fence and…well, all of the above. I can’t have a future with him.”
God, that’s really true, isn’t it?
Buffy sighed, and Willow’s look of concern melted into compassion. She reached across the table and patted her hand sympathetically. “But he’s hot?” she asked, searching again for the good. “And into you?”
The Slayer offered a slight smile. “Very, very hot,” she replied. “And oh yeah…I’d say he’s into me.”
So much that it scares the both of us.
“Well…maybe he will wanna take you to the dance.”
She laughed. “Don’t think so. It’s a little short notice. Seriously…you guys go and have fun tonight. I’ll do a quick patrol, head home, and have a Brad and Tom fest.”
“Ah. A pretty-boys-with-no-brains night?”
Buffy nodded her agreement. “Pretty much.”
“Well, you’re always welcome to come with us,” Oz said.
“I know. And I appreciate it.”
Why party when she could patrol? Her mind had been with Spike all day, and she wouldn’t find him at a mixer.
No, she’d find him. She would find him.
And they would talk.
*~*~*
“He kills slayers.”
Buffy froze. “What? Angelus?”
Giles shook his head, rising to his feet and holding up the text he’d been reading. “William the Bloody. Spike. Isn’t that what you called him earlier? He earned his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. And he’s killed two slayers. One in 1898 during the Boxer Rebellion, and one in New York in the 1970s.” He handed her the book. “It’s all there, Buffy.”
So strange how fast she could feel like she was dying.
Stop it! He’s just a vampire.
“Why are you showing me this? I thought you were going to research Angelus and—”
“Oh, I am. But I’m not as concerned with them at the present.”
“Why not?”
“Because Angelus isn’t the one whose eyes glowed for you.” Giles looked at her gravely. “Because Angelus isn’t the one you told me about this morning. Spike. This William the Bloody…he kills slayers. He seeks out whoever’s Chosen.”
Buffy’s heart shattered and her eyes were suddenly stinging with tears.
Not the vampire I met last night.
It couldn’t be that; there had to be some explanation. Some reason. No vampire could fake such raw sentiment. Spike had saved her life once without tangible reason. Why on earth would he take it back now?
Fulfilling a promise.
Some explanation. There was one somewhere.
She just had to find it.
To be continued in Chapter Ten: Companion of the Night…
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