A challenge given to me by Maidenro where Buffy and Spike take off after Becoming. Written for Live Journal's Summer of Spike Community, but I didn't quite get it finished.  Spoilers up to the end of season 2. Uh, that would be SoS 2004.
Thank you to spikeslovebite for the beautiful banner!

10/30/05- I am in the process of going over this fic and rewriting certain parts. Thank you to chicklet for beta'ing the revisions and to Spikeskat who has been there and beta'd the entire thing from the beginning.

    Rated NC-17

 Chapter 1

    As Buffy loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, she once again marveled on the weird path her life had taken.  This point in her life where she was finally happy. Probably happier than she'd ever been, if she was all honest girl. The events that had led to this point had at first left her drenched in despair, then slowly gave way to something greater than she had ever thought possible.  Almost as if fate had dictated a series of events to unite two people who would never have given the other a chance otherwise. It was almost...

     Cosmic. 

     How else could she explain living in a small quiet town in New England with her previous enemy, and being the happiest she'd ever been?

    Shaking her head wryly at the direction her thoughts had wandered, Buffy rinsed the remaining contents of the coffee mug under the running water before lining it up neatly in its place next to the others.  For someone who didn't even need to eat food to survive, Spike sure dirtied up more dishes than any two people combined.  She didn't know how he did it, but there they always were, a huge stack of dirty dishes haphazardly piled in the sink. 

    Buffy didn't really mind the little domestic task though. It seemed to  provide the best opportunity for her thoughts to roam, like they were doing now. When she moved on to wiping down the tiled counters, her mind once again made the familiar journey to that night six months ago. The night that had changed her entire life.

SIX MONTHS PRIOR

    Buffy stumbled out of the looming, oppressive mansion, her eyes wide with shock. What had she just done? Angel... Oh god, it had been Angel... Tears pooled in her eyes before taking the final plunge down her cheeks. She had just stuck a sword through the man she loved. To save the world. Again.

    A noise coming from behind caused her to cast blurry eyes in that direction. She saw Spike leaning heavily against the massive frame of the double doors.  His face was an unmovable mask, but his eyes were probably mirrors of her own.

    Agonized.

    Suddenly angry that she shared anything in common with this cold blooded killer, she lashed out with the only weapon she had left.

    "Where's Drusilla?" Buffy asked coldly, regretting the harsh words the instant they left her mouth.  

    "I didn't mean to," he replied in a tortured voice, his eyes searching hers as if begging for forgiveness. "She came at me.... and I shoved her." He didn't need to finish, Buffy got the picture. Angel wasn't the only vampire who had gone to hell tonight.

    Realizing just who he was talking to, Spike shook his gloomy thoughts aside and slipped into his typical Big Bad role. He pushed away from the door frame and adopted his familiar cocky, confident swagger, although it was lacking serious conviction tonight. "Come on, Slayer. Let's you and me get out of here.

    Feeling an irrational anger that this vampire was alive while hers was dead, Buffy offered him a withering glare and stormed off. She needed to get the hell away from the place where she'd had to kill her lover. Away from the vampire who wasn't as evil as he should be. 

    Away from everything.

    Buffy was fortunate that she didn't run into any vamps on the way home, as her distraction could have proven fatal.  As she had walked along, her brain had become numb. Blessedly blindingly anesthetized. She knew it was a defense mechanism but she couldn't give a shit at that point. Numb was of the good. Pain and agony were of the bad.

    When she got to her house, she noticed the lights on downstairs. Rather than attempt any confrontation with her mother, she bypassed the front door and made her way to the tree that stood tall in front of her bedroom window. As she had done so many times before, Buffy shimmied up and stepped through her window. She was the Slayer and stealth was part of the whole package.

    In minutes, she had shoved clothes and various things into a leather satchel. She didn't really care what she grabbed, just knew she wasn't coming back. She was finished. Her mom had told her not to come back which really made things that much easier. Buffy had saved the world for the last damn time. They had given her grief the previous year when she had tried to quit, when her death had been predicted at the hands of the Master. Well, now she wasn't giving them a choice. She was done. As in, finished. Let someone else take over, because this was one job she no longer wanted.

    Grabbing the stash of money at the bottom of her weapons chest, Buffy slung her satchel over her shoulder, and took one last assessing look around before racing over to her bed to grab the stuffed pig from his perch on her pillows. Can't forget Mr. Gordo, she thought frantically. She exited her room the same way she had come in, and was on the ground in seconds. Suddenly she felt that little tingle at the back of her neck that warned her of approaching danger, and whipped around, hand already reaching for the stake within easy reach. It didn't come as a surprise to see Spike, somehow knowing he'd be turning up.  She released her hold on the stake that was in her grip as they regarded each other.

    He had parked in front of Buffy's next door neighbor, his black monstrosity idling noisily at the curb. Buffy stalked over to where he was leaning against the passenger door and not a word was exchanged as he simply held the door open for her. Not looking him in the eye, she allowed herself to slide in, and he shut the door firmly behind her.

    He walked around the Desoto and climbed behind the wheel. Shifting the car into drive, Spike slammed his foot on the gas, and they roared out of town and as far from Sunnyhell as they could get. Neither saying a word, both locked in the horrible memories of the last few hours.

    And so it began. 

    She didn't ask why he'd come for her, nor did she question her total lack of hesitation in accepting his silent invitation. They both needed to run, and it just seemed easier to do it together. And they both understood that traveling with their mortal enemy came at some risk, one that they were both more than willing to take. 

    They had driven for over an hour before Spike finally pulled off. "Gas," was the only word he uttered, and Buffy nodded. She got out and used the bathroom, not even noticing the scum and filth that clung to the walls. She did make sure that she washed her hands, briefly coming out of her self induced indifference to notice the lack of housekeeping the bathroom possessed when she was forced to wipe her dripping hands on the ass of her jeans. Giving her reflection a dirty look, she exited the bathroom and returned to the land of not giving a damn as she climbed back into the car. Spike was waiting for her, and they took off, once more not exchanging any words.

    Just before the morning rays made themselves known, Spike pulled into a motel. Buffy couldn't even say where they were, it could have been anywhere. And she didn't really care. All she wanted to do was sleep, fall into deep oblivion. She waited in the car while Spike checked them in, not offering to pay her way. And Spike, for his part, didn't ask her to. There were no objections when he came back and motioned her to follow, slipping the key into the lock. This place didn't rate fancy key cards, and with a twist of the old fashioned key, he threw the door open. A cloud of stale cigarette smoke came billowing out of the room and with one last gasp of clean air, Buffy followed him inside.

    Nothing was said by either of them about the single king size bed that dominated the tiny room. In another time, Buffy figured she would have probably been embarrassed by it, the thought of sharing a bed with Spike. But right now, nothing was penetrating her hastily erected protective walls. She grabbed her satchel and went into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door. She stripped off her clothes and pulled out a t-shirt, slipping it on over her head. Exiting the bathroom, she climbed into bed after making sure the curtains were drawn securely.

      Not bothering with the niceties of clothing, Spike stripped and climbed into bed a few minutes after her. They laid stiffly on their respective sides of the bed, both trying to forget that they had sent their own loved ones to hell this day. As if in concert, they turned to the other and took comfort in each other's arms, finally allowing the repressed tears to fall. No words were ever shared, the pain was too raw. An underlying current of anger flowed at the core of both of them, each blaming the other for their current circumstances. Buffy continued to hold on to her irrational anger that Spike was the wrong vampire, it shouldn't be him offering her comfort.  And she could see the same sentiment reflected back in his eyes. It was her fault that Angelus had returned, and the consequences that followed.  Buffy wasn't Drusilla. Spike wasn't Angel. Yet they continued to hold each other as they slept, allowing the nightmares to be kept at bay. Sex wasn't part of the equation, even though Buffy could more than feel Spike's erection pressing into her.

     Because she wasn't Drusilla. And he wasn't Angel.

    And thus a pattern was soon established. Silent nights of driving with only their thoughts for company, followed by an endless stream of seedy motels where they spent the day sleeping. She had lost track along the way, didn't even know what state they were in. On those long silent drives during the night, Buffy would sometimes give in and think about what she was doing. What they were doing. While she knew Spike wouldn't try and kill her, she realized that this was not doing either one of them any good. They were doing the avoid-y thing, something that Buffy was so proficient at. Unfortunately, it was beginning to wear on both of them. Spike was becoming increasingly snarly, his demon coming out more and more often. And Buffy was... well, she didn't want to think what she was becoming.

    One night, after two weeks of the same cycle, Buffy decided it was time to break the silence.  "Spike? Where are we going?"

    He cast a quick surprised glance her way before narrowing his eyes. "You're just asking that now?"

    "Wasn't so much with the caring before."

    Spike tossed his cigarette out the window and took a moment to answer. "Dunno where we're going. Reckon we'll know when we get there."

    "Oh."  Buffy's face was thoughtful as she looked out the window. She had scraped the black paint off of her window so she could see whatever scenery could be discerned at night, which usually proved to be bleak and depressing. Kinda like her mood.

    "You wanna stop somewhere and eat?"

    The question was unexpected. "You mean, like go in and sit down? That type of stop and eat?"

    Spike picked up on the slightly hopeful tone of her voice. "Yeah."

    After two weeks of gas stations and drive-thru, it sounded great. "Ok." 

    Spike pulled into a Denny's and put the car in park. Buffy had reached down to slip her shoes back on when her car door was opened. It threw her off balance a little, manners from a vampire. Especially this vampire. She got out and he slammed it shut behind her. Keeping his hand possessively on the small of her back, he opened the door leading into the restaurant. Buffy wisely kept her mouth shut, knowing instinctively that making any comment would be of the bad.

    Once they were seated in a booth, Buffy looked across the table at him and took the opportunity to study him under the crappy restaurant lighting. He looked bad. Majorly bad, and she hadn't even noticed until now. His skin was almost translucent; his lips cracked and totally lacking their usual blood red tint. Dark circles haunted the hollows beneath his eyes and the usually pronounced cheekbones were now almost obscene on his gaunt face.

    "What are you staring at, Slayer?" he snarled, not bothering to look up from the menu.

    "You're not looking so good." Buffy told him.

    Spike looked at her over the top of the menu, one eyebrow arching sardonically. "Wouldn't cast stones, pet. Least you can see yourself in the bloody mirror," he scoffed, the slight tilt of his head in her direction indicating her own lack of stellar looks.

    The flash of pain that struck her face didn't go unnoticed by Spike, who sighed and set his menu down.  "Look, we've both been in a bad spot, ok?  Neither one of us has really been eating as much as we should. You're getting to be a bit on the skin and bones side yourself."

    That surprised her. "You haven't been feeding?"

    He offered her an amused snort. "Last I looked, I'm traveling with the bloody slayer."

    Self disgust flooded her as she realized she hadn't even thought about his feeding habits in the course of her misery. She was the damn slayer, and he could have been leaving a trail of corpses behind everywhere they went. And the worst thing? She wouldn't have cared. Some protector of the innocent she was.  "So, you haven't fed?"

    "Didn't say that. Just said I haven't eaten as much as I should be."

    "And that means.... what exactly?"  Her voice was snippy, like it used to be when she would talk to him. Spike didn't know why it pleased him to see it, but it did, finding it preferable over the indifferent monotone she had maintained.

    "It means that instead of completely draining a bloke, I just take a quick nip so I don't have you coming looking for me," Spike announced with a lethal timbre to his voice.

    "You can do that?" Buffy asked curiously. She'd actually been surprised to not have felt his fangs when she laid wrapped tightly in his arms. Especially when she would wake up and he'd be in game face as he slept, with his erection pressing into her. She'd written it off as a vampire thing, waking up fangy and hard, since he'd never tried to inflict any of those protruding appendages on her.

    "You're still alive, aren't you?"

    "Yeah, unfortunately," Buffy mumbled to herself, casting her eyes downward. The waitress approached the table,effectively putting a stop to the direction their first actual conversation had taken, and Spike ignored that he had heard her telling comment.

    But that stop at Denny's did more than just pad Buffy's stomach with something that hadn't come in a drive-thru bag, it broke through the dam that had kept them wrapped inside themselves. After leaving the empty restaurant, the night passed by with hesitant attempts at conversation. A tentative friendship was being formed; yet both refused to speak of anything of a personal nature, not trusting the other enough to let them into their private Hellhouse of pain.

    But it was a start.

    By the time they stopped that morning, Spike looked even worse, appearing almost skeletal now. Deep grooves were sunken into his face and his skin had a translucent blue cast to it.  Buffy didn't know how he could keep up all this monotonous driving, and there had even been a few episodes where he had swerved into the oncoming lane, making her grab the wheel and jerk them out of death's way. She knew he needed to feed, and her gut clenched up at what that meant. Not knowing where they were, the likelihood of finding a place that sold animal blood was low. The early morning hour was also a deterrent, most shops were not likely to be open for hours yet. 

    After Spike once again got them checked in, he threw himself tiredly on the bed and closed his eyes. Buffy sat down tentatively next to him.

    "I know what you're doing."

    He didn't open his eyes, his features remained expressionless but Buffy saw the barely discernable stiffening of his body. "What's that then, pet?"

    "You're not eating to punish yourself."

    This caused him to pry one eye open to glare at her. "And again, wouldn't cast stones if I were you. I've seen you doing the same thing."

    "Yeah, maybe I have," Buffy quietly admitted, but then conviction grew in her voice. "But if *I* get too hungry, all you'll have to deal with is a bitchy Buffy.  If you get too hungry, I become an appetizing snack."

    Intense blue eyes bored into hers, searching. "Think if that's what was on my mind, I would have killed ya already."

    Warily, she laid down next to him, the awkwardness of sharing their feelings stretching between them. But guilt had Buffy reaching out again. Guilt that she hadn't noticed Spike's progressive emaciation, guilt over the fact that he could snap and go on a homicidal rampage which she knew she wouldn't have the energy to stop. And the ever present guilt over what happened that night in the mansion.

    Silently, she raised her wrist to Spike's lips in an unvoiced offer. His eyes sprang open once more, as he smelled the scent of her skin practically shoved under his nose. His face slid easily into that of his demon at the scent of her blood pumping so close to him.

    "What the bloody hell is this? A bit on the suicidal side yourself, eh?" he asked angrily, pushing her arm away.

    Buffy propped herself up on her elbow and glared down at the face of evil below her. Anger filled her, but it was a different anger, and it felt good. "If I was being suicidal, I would have offered you my jugular, you big jerk."

    A smirk almost snuck onto his face as he stared up at the golden beauty of the slayer.  "Then why don't you bloody spell it out for me then."

    Buffy sighed tiredly, allowing her head to fall to the pillow beneath her. ""Look, I don't really know what happens when a vamp starves, but from what I can see, it's not pretty. Since you're driving, I'd rather you be all with the alertness. I don't know how to go about getting you any blood here since I don't even know where the hell we are. This is a one time offer. After this, we'll work something out."

    "How do you know I won't just drain ya?"

    Spike almost didn't think she was going to answer, the silence stretched on for so long. "Because then you'd be alone and I don't really think you want that."

    Anger and denial flashed heatedly in his amber eyes. "You don't know a soddin' thing about me."

    Buffy expected his anger, she would have been worried in its absence.  Her walls were crumbling, and while the urge to throw them back up was almost overwhelming, she knew she needed them gone. Otherwise, this lack of feeling was going to ruin her. A glimpse of tears shimmered in her eyes as she stared back at Spike. "No, I don't know you that well. But I know that I'm scared to be alone right now, and I don't want you to die." She put her wrist back to his mouth. "Please," she asked softly.

    A shudder went through Spike as his eyes burned into hers. With a anguished growl, he grabbed her wrist and sank his fangs into her flesh, tearing through the tender skin on the underside of her arm roughly, bringing a small cry of pain to her lips. And that sound of pain was music to his ears, he wanted to punish her. For forcing him to choose to live again.

    Her blood was indescribable to his starving body, the slayer component adding a rich powerful mix to it. But he took no joy in it, taking long punishing pulls, allowing the warm liquid to slide down his throat where it went to work almost immediately. He could feel her blood feeding his starving cells, filling out his skeletal frame, restoring him to his former self. Taking longer pulls than he should have, he allowed her blood to heal his body.

    And the better he felt, the more angry he became, deliberately digging into her wrist until his fangs scraped along tendons and bone. When his cruel action brought no response, he looked over and realized she had passed out. He could hear her heart struggling to catch up with the sudden, violent blood loss, and he wrenched his fangs out of her.

    "FUCK!" he yelled, jumping off the bed and stomping into the bathroom to grab a towel. Tying a pressure dressing against the gushing, gaping holes in her wrist, his self-loathing increased tenfold.  "Why the fuck didn't you stop me, you stupid bint?"  he screamed at her unconscious figure, her skin now as pale as his had been. "You're the bloody fucking slayer!"

    He took to pacing the room, running his hands wildly through his hair. He mentally ran through his options, and realized he had none. He'd practically drained her; he could still hear her heart frantically trying to catch up with her body's urgent demands. Why hadn't she stopped him? But he knew why. It was the same reason he had stopped feeding. If death was being offered, it was a welcome way out.

    And now he knew exactly what she had gone on about, why she had forced him to feed off of her. He didn't want to be alone either. If she died because of this, he would be walking out and kissing the sun. She may be the slayer and a bloody human, but she was all he had right now. 

    And he didn't want her to die.

    Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it with an agitated snap, noticing that his hands were shaking. He threw himself into the chair that was situated in the corner and watched her, listening to every beat her heart made. Spike knew if she wasn't the slayer, she would have been dead right now, and he just hoped it was enough to pull her through.

    Storming back over to the bed, Spike ripped the towel off of her wrist, noting that the bleeding was slowing. Unable to help himself, he sank to his knees beside the bed and grabbed her hand, bringing the mutilated wrist back to his mouth. Whereas before he had treated her flesh cruelly, now he allowed his tongue to gently brush against the gaping edges of the wounds, finding himself sickened by his actions.

    His saliva combined with her slayer healing ability had finally allowed the mutilated flesh to cease bleeding, a fact which Spike noted with a small amount of satisfaction. And though she lay just moments away from possible death, the heavy tangy scent of her blood continued to scream at him, pounding like furious fists on a door to every enhanced sense in his body to take even more. He'd taken enough human life to know exactly how much blood loss a mortal could withstand, and had gone well over the limit with Buffy. The compulsion to just finish the job was there, but his need to live was even stronger. And Spike now knew that in order for him to live, he needed this young girl with him. He didn't dare think of what that meant, responding to what his instincts hurled at him.

     Spike could not allow the vampire slayer, his only friend left, to die.

    Clasping her hand gently in his own, he brought her cold hand to his lips, feathering a tiny kiss to the back of it. Her lower body temperature disturbed him, and he eased the heavy comforter out from underneath her body in an attempt to get her warmed up, assuming shock was setting in. Gently, he lifted the cover up and over her body, tucking it in around her side, leaving her damaged wrist exposed so that he could monitor its healing. 

    Once more returning to the spot by her side, he lifted her hand in his, wrapping her lax fingers around his hand.  He brought her knuckles to his lips, keeping them there, as if the light touch of his lips alone could restore her life. Spike was finally rewarded moments later by a fluttering of her eyelids before they finally slid open to reveal her dazed hazel eyes. He watched as she blinked in exaggeration, slowly trying to bring the world into focus.

    Buffy felt like she was breaking out of a dark cocoon; her body felt heavy, her arms laying useless at her side  and she couldn't quite remember where she was or more frightening, how she had gotten there. She gradually became aware of her surroundings, and the stinging pain in her wrist. Slowly she turned her head to the side to investigate the source of the biting pain, and saw a pair of blue eyes shining brilliantly back at her.

    "You ok now?" The question came out hoarse, almost gruff.

    "What happened?" Buffy asked in a slightly slurred voice, eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

    Spike dropped her hand, causing a streak of pain to travel through her as it fell limply on the bed. He got to his feet and began pacing the room once more, anxiety pouring off him in waves.  "Almost bloody drained you, is what," Spike remarked harshly, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture that showed his agitation.

    Buffy struggled to push herself up to a sitting position but dizziness assaulted her from all sides. "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Trying to kill yourself all over again?" Spike growled, quickly returning to her side and assisting her back against the pillows. He threw her a black look, then strode over to the bag on the table. Pulling out a juice that she had purchased at a mini mart before they had stopped for the day, he twisted the top off and brought the bottle over to her.

    "Drink it," he ordered harshly.

    She tried to manage a defiant glare at his tone, but then noticed the slightly pleading look that haunted his face, and gave in gracefully. He added a pillow behind her back at her request, which allowed her to sit up a little and made drinking easier. Taking the proffered drink with her good arm, she brought the bottle to her lips and let the sugary fluid flow into her system.

    When Spike saw Buffy finally drinking the juice, his legs crumpled beneath him and he slumped to the floor, bracing himself heavily against the side of the bed.  "You were right, Slayer," he began in a tortured voice. "I don't want to be alone."  His stormy blue eyes dug into hers, allowing her to see how much he hated himself for what he had done.  "Don't ever let me do that to you again." His voice broke off into a tormented whisper. "I can't lose you too. Please."

    Buffy stared heavily into the eyes of the monster responsible for almost killing her.  She put the empty bottle on the night table beside the bed and just held out her arms to him. With a choked cry, Spike scrambled up off the floor and joined her on the bed, slipping quickly under the covers and into her outstretched arms, taking the second precious gift she had offered him that day. 

    "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears falling once more. But this time the tears were for her, not Drusilla. His tears soaked the front of her shirt where he lay with his head on her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her.

    "Me too," she whispered back, running the fingers of one hand soothingly through his hair, knowing that she had tried to take the selfish way out at his expense. The oddity of being apologized to by the very vampire who had tried to kill so many times refused to affect her. They were no longer the same as they had been. "Let's just sleep a bit, ok? I'm kinda drained."

    Her attempt at humor was not acknowledged, and she was asleep again in minutes with one hand resting lightly on his neck, the other in his hair; her chin resting on the top of head. Spike tightened his hold on her and joined her in slumber. 

    The next few days were spent on the same driving schedule with the exception of a few planned diversions along the way. With the hours they traveled, entertainment choices where limited, but midnight movies were a welcomed relief. Late night miniature golf had even been among the diversions.

      Seeing the Big Bad amid the mini-scale backdrops always amused Buffy, likening him to a predator in Wonderland. But their true nature would quickly come out during these times of fun, and the game would quickly digress into a fierce battle as their inherent competitive natures took hold.

    The last time they had played, things had escalated quickly, becoming violent by the time they had approached the third hole.  

    Not surprisingly, they didn't get to finish the game, being asked to leave long before finishing. They had easily fallen back into their old pattern of insults and taunts with a hint of violence, increasing in severity the longer they played. Their savage display and use of golf clubs as weapons, had parents running to keep their children away from the snarling duo and security being dispatched to deal with the problem. 

    When the security guards had approached, Buffy had kept a hand on Spike's arm to prevent him from charging while he insisted they should be allowed to finish the game. But after being threatened with the involvement of the 'proper authorities', Buffy bodily dragged the enraged vampire back to the car, secure in the knowledge that she had the higher score.

    Once they were back on the road, Spike snickered and commented, "That was a bit of alright."

    Her lips had twisted into a wry grin. "Yeah, it was, Spike." 

    It had been a brief respite before the familiar guilt had wormed its way back into the car, dampening their spirits. But now they brooded together rather than suffering in silence, making it easier to cope and bringing them closer together. Not that Spike would ever admit to brooding.

   On occasion, Buffy would find herself plagued with self-disgust that her guilt over Angel was lessening, and more importantly; the fact that she was enjoying her time with Spike. But she had come to realize Spike wasn't what he had made himself out to be. Away from his vampiric influences, he was different and the irony that the person she felt closest to was another vampire was not lost on her.  

    Buffy had solved Spike's feeding situation, at least on a short term basis. She would find a butcher willing to sell her blood and buy it in bulk, preserving it in a cooler full of ice. Spike wouldn't have to worry about who his next meal was going be and she didn't have to worry about him not feeding. Buffy didn't want to admit to feeling relieved that her blood had restored him to his usual vigor, almost more so with the added slayer power. Spike had not brought up what he had almost done to her that day, and she was kinda glad. Because to admit that there might be tender feelings developing?

    She was so not ready to go there.

    A few days after the golf incident, Spike turned into the circular driveway of a large resort-like hotel rather than one of the typical dives they usually inhabited. Buffy turned to him and arched an eyebrow in silent question.

    He shrugged nonchalantly. "Figured we could use a break from the shit holes we've been staying in. Be nice not to wonder if cockroaches are going to climb into the bloody bed with us."

    She nodded although she was seriously questioning his motive. "Gotcha. No cockroaches for Spike."

    "Things are bloody disgusting."

    She held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, got it. No argument here." Buffy pretended like she didn't hear his muttered, "Yeah, that'll be a first."

    By the time they made it up to their room, a shower and clean clothes were screaming Buffy's name. She had been not-caring girl for so long that she had begun to wear it like a second skin. But after walking through the plush lobby with all the smartly dressed people, she felt yucky. Like the uber yuckage that only a hot shower and clean clothes could help to vanquish. New clothes would have been way preferable, but the last thing she wanted to do was ask Spike if they could go shopping. Besides, they had just stopped at a Laundromat the previous night and at least all of her clothes were now clean.

     Wallowing in her feelings of grunge, the grandeur of the room failed to make an impression on her. Spike was sprawled in one of the easy chairs, smoking. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her, as if he were sizing her up.

    Making her feel more aware of her insecurity. And more important, why she was feeling insecure.
 

    "I'm going to go take a shower, " Buffy announced suddenly, grabbing her bag and escaping into the bathroom. Once inside, she was forced to appreciate the lavishness of the shower and the adjacent sunken tub. Definitely a far cry from the cracked dingy bathrooms she'd become accustomed to for the past three weeks, she thought miserably, because this one made her want to take the time to make herself look pretty.

     The other bathrooms had just driven her to flee their depressing circumstances at the earliest moment possible.

    With a heavy sigh, she got to work.

    Forty five minutes later, Buffy emerged, feeling ten times better. She'd actually used the hair dryer for once instead of just pulling her hair back in a messy ponytail. She had chosen a tank top and shorts pajama number that she hadn't worn before, mostly because she had deemed it too revealing. But now? For some reason, keeping her curves covered in bed didn't really seem to matter here, and she refused to think of that significance. 

    +++

    Christ, she was gorgeous.

    Spike's eyes drank her in as she stepped out of the bathroom into the darkened bedroom and made her way to the bed. Her skin, deprived of the sun for weeks, was pale and beautiful; her limbs long and lean. She was bloody perfection.

    His cock had jumped to attention at the first sight of her, and he was grateful that he'd already undressed and had slid under the lush comforter. Having to feign indifference at this moment would have been a struggle and Spike was having a hard time remembering why he hadn't just fucked her into oblivion yet. But something in him remembered, telling him it wasn't time; that taking her now would ruin them both.

     Pushing away his cryptic conscience, Spike tucked his hands behind his head, leaving his abdomen flexed and the comforter tucked around his hips; shielding his erection from her searching eyes.

    "Well, that's a little less than you usually wear," he commented, assuming a bored voice.

    Buffy just gave him a pointed look. "You're one to talk, Mr. I-Sleep-Naked."

    Spike threw a teasing, lewd smirk her way. "You coming to bed?"

    Rather than respond, Buffy crossed the room and climbed into bed, offering him a tantalizing view of her firm breasts that left him aching for more.  As she had done every morning since they had left Sunnydale, Buffy turned on her side and reached behind her for the security blanket she knew she couldn't sleep without. 

    With a sigh of frustration, Spike closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms, spooning her body up against his hard torso. He waited for her reaction to his erection that nudged her ass, but it was the same as usual. A quick tensing of her muscles then she would relax.

    It couldn't go on like this, that much Spike did know. But... for now he'd give her a bit more time to get used to him. Because when he finally took her?

    He was never letting go. 

++++ 

    Buffy awoke first, hours earlier than usual. Self-doubt began plaguing her mind, shooting her to a completely wakeful state which she was unable to reverse. She began thinking about her mom, and her friends, wondering what was happening in her absence. Buffy couldn't find it within herself to feel guilty about her defection with Spike, this had been the right thing to do. She couldn't even imagine trying to deal with things at home, with her Watcher, her friends. Nobody else could understand the pain she was in, the enormity of what she'd had to do. Nobody, that is, except Spike. 

    Buffy looked over at him, her eyes trailing fondly over the sharp planes of his face, noticing once more how sleep softened his hard edges. Leaning over, she pressed a light kiss to his lips before slipping out of bed. She was hungry and strangely restless. Usually they would stop at a mini-mart before holing up for the day, allowing Buffy to supply herself with processed fortification to make it through the day. Most of the dives they stayed at were outdoor units on the outskirts of absolutely nowhere. And while some possessed some sort of vending machines or had an adjacent restaurant, Buffy would usually have to wait until the sun went down to eat. She had flat out refused to get behind the wheel of Spike's black monster, and Spike hadn't pushed the issue.

    Since this hotel was actually in possession of an elevator, a cafe and several shops within the massive lobby, they had bypassed the usual mini-mart run in favor of Buffy eating something that didn't come out of a package. Spike had been a lot more aware of her eating habits since his little bite fest, and had gotten to the point of being a nag about her poor food intake.

    Quietly, Buffy changed in the bathroom, her stomach threatening to wake the sleeping vamp with its loud rumbling. She got out her make up kit that had scarcely been touched since their journey began, but today she felt like sliding on the powerful armor that only make up could provide. Taking one of her better outfits out of her satchel, she put it on, grimacing a bit when she witnessed how loosely the skirt now fit.  Her stomach seconded the motion with one last growl, and she grabbed a handful of her money that she had brought with her. Money that had never been used, Spike having paid for everything up until now. 

    Buffy wrote a quick note for Spike telling him that she was downstairs getting something to eat. And as quietly as possible, she exited the room. When the elevator let her off at the bottom floor, she almost turned around and went right back up. The flood of panic that hit her had taken her by surprise and had almost managed to render her paralyzed.

    But that would be giving in, so Buffy forced her legs to move.

    Stepping out, she looked around, almost cringing at all the people walking around. God, what was wrong with her?  Three weeks in the company of one vampire, and she was freaking out in the real world?  Just as quickly as the mini panic attack had struck, it thankfully passed, allowing her the confidence to proceed. Surveying the lobby, she noticed that the cafe was packed with people. Ok, mass people of the bad. Then she saw a little pub-type place further down that was dark and only had a few patrons milling about. Much better, she decided, striding purposefully for the door that would take her inside. Her stomach grumbled again loudly when she caught sight of a huge basket of fries being set down at someone's table.

    'Ooooh... fries.' Buffy's eyes lit up and she took a seat at one of the tables closest to the bar. The tables were made of heavy, dark oak with matching chairs, and the decor could only be described as rustic, right down to the white napkins with simple silverware that lined the paper placemats. Looking to one side, Buffy studied the huge bar that had rows of alcohol on varying shelves behind it, and more importantly, the huge mirror that took up the entire wall above it. She had to quell the sudden desire to check out her appearance in the mirror as she would have in the days of old.  

+++++++++++++

    Three hours later, Spike drifted into a wakeful state, immediately sensing Buffy wasn't in the room. With a hint of alarm, he leapt out of the bed and  looked around. Spotting the note she left, he grunted, then noticed the time it had been written. Wadding it up into a ball furiously, he threw it across the room and stormed into the bathroom to get dressed. He couldn't figure out if he was worried or pissed,  just wanting her back with him.

    In under five minutes, he was in the lobby, a hard look set on his face. He could smell that she'd come this way and followed it, shrugging off the relief that came with knowing she was still in the hotel. 

    His anger was irrational but the predator side to him didn't care, determined to find what it considered his. 

    Spike traced her to the little pub that he had planned on taking her to later, and he forced himself to stop at the door to get himself under control. Beyond all else, she was still the slayer.

    But what he saw had the demon screaming murder.

     Buffy was sitting at the bar while some git serving drinks tried to chat her up. When he saw her smile at something that was said, that was the last straw.  

    With a possessive growl, he slipped into the room and stalked towards Buffy, fighting the urge to slip into his game face and rip the bastard's head off. He didn't know where this rage was coming from, didn't particularly care, he just wanted Buffy back.

    Buffy's neck gave her that tingle that screamed 'vampire' and she whipped her head around, her hand reaching for the stake she carried in her purse. But what met her eyes caused her breath to hitch in her throat. Spike was sauntering towards her with such burning intensity in his eye, goosebumps erupted along her skin. She gulped nervously. Because usually when he came at her looking like this? He'd been trying to kill her. This was so different.

    And fighting was the last thing on her mind.

    "I was worried about you, pet," he announced, his voice low and lethal.

    "Sorry. I, uh, got hungry," Buffy replied, wondering why she was so unnerved. She wasn't doing anything wrong, so why did it feel like she was?

    "You were gone a long time, baby," his voice held a low purr as he sidled up to her, rubbing his hands lightly up her bare arms. Spike kept a piercing eye on the bloody git behind the bar, who was staring at him with a hint of fear. Smart lad.

    "Lost track of time," Buffy admitted, smiling perkily at him, his touch affecting her more than she wanted to let on. At his snarl, she realized the perky routine may not have been the way to go, suddenly fearful.

    "What do you say we go back up to our room then, eh, baby?" He had never spoken to her like this, and when Spike grabbed hold of her wrist and forced her around, capturing her gaze and making sure she was aware of the violent edge he was barely restraining.

    Buffy gulped again, shocked that she had driven Spike to this , just by being absent for a few hours. Rather than ringing her warning bell, it merely served to make her feel wanted, cherished even. This was a Spike she had not seen before, at least not in regard to her. 

    "OK," she agreed quickly, her heart speeding up as she slid off the stool. Turning to the bartender who had entertained her with his bragging stories over the last few hours, she said, "Nice talking to you, Brian. Good luck with that grad school thingie."

    Spike slipped his hand into hers, lacing his fingers with hers as he pulled her possessively against him.  "Yeah, thanks mate, for keeping my girl here entertained."

    Buffy heaved a sigh of relief that Spike wasn't going to do anything, feeling the possessive rage pouring off of him and guessing the reason for it. But when they turned to leave, Spike whipped back around and grinned slyly. "Think you need to get that monstrosity of a mirror fixed, mate. Doesn't seem to be working."

    "Huh?" Brian asked with a perplexed look, looking behind him to the mirror that encompassed practically the entire wall. It took him a few seconds to process that while he was seeing his reflection and that of the girl he'd been hoping to score with, her scary boyfriend was totally absent. Turning back around with fear and confusion in his eyes, Brian was met by a cruel smirk.  

     Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes at the total male posturing.

     "Come on, luv, let's blow this place," Spike announced, effectively dismissing the bartender once the overwhelming scent of fear had hit the air.

    Brian watched as they left together, finding himself shaken. Briefly, he thought about making sure that  Buffy would be ok with... whatever that guy was.  But fear of the unknown made him keep silent on the matter, not wanting to cross paths again with what his suspicions were telling him 'Spike' was.

    But that was crazy because everyone knows there is no such thing as vampires.  

    On the brisk walk back to the elevator, Buffy allowed Spike to keep a tight grip on her hand while casting him questioning glances. Her stomach was tight with tension and she had no idea what was up with that. "So, what was with the total bad moodies back there?" she finally asked.

    Spike didn't answer, merely delivered a thunderous look her way. When the door to the elevator opened, he stormed inside, pulling her roughly behind him. The door to the elevator opened, and he stormed inside, pulling Buffy behind him. She wrenched her arm away defiantly and offered him a petulant look. Big bully, thinking he could just manhandle her like that!

     Spike punched their floor number, his entire body exuding an agitated fury that Buffy was growing increasingly wary of. Something was up with him in a major way.

    The very moment that the elevator made its initial lurch, Spike startled her by slamming his hand on the 'emergency stop' button right next to her head, effectively halting them between floors.

      "Oh my god, I so cannot believe you just did that!" Buffy gasped, eyes wide and accusing.

    As soon as he turned his head and their eyes met, Buffy knew she was in big trouble, watching as he closed the few feet that separated them. The primal intent in his eyes caused her to instinctively back up until she was pressed flush against the wall of the elevator. He did not relent in his pursuit, using his body to hold her in place. When he placed one hand on either side of her head, palms flat against the smooth wall of the elevator, her eyes widened at the ferocity etched on his features.

      Leaning in close, he growled huskily, "Believe it, baby."

    Baby?

    Buffy shoved him hard in the chest, finding herself unnerved by his close proximity and the foreign endearment. When he stumbled back a step,she made her escape, ducking under one arm. She spun around immediately, eyes wary.

    "God, what is with you tonight?" Buffy couldn't help but ask, not knowing if she was going to like the answer.

    With a sardonic smile, Spike announced, "I'll show you what is bloody up with me."

    With speed that defined him as not human, Spike closed the distance once more and crushed his lips to hers, hard and reckless. She stiffened initially, the intensity behind it giving her cause for alarm. But as a flush of desire stirred within her, Buffy couldn't help when her arms slid around his neck, pulling him impossibly close as she granted him entry to her mouth.  With a low growl that sent shivers through her, Spike's tongue boldly invaded, sweeping through until meeting hers in a lovers duel.

    Spike groaned and pulled her roughly against him, his rigid cock close to bursting through his jeans. Tearing his mouth away to give her a chance to breathe, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply the fruity scent of the hotel's shampoo, the sharp musk of desire, the tinges of smoke that still clung to her hair. But most overwhelming of all was the intoxicating scent of her blood pumping away beneath her luscious skin.

    He knew what he had to do.

    Tearing his face away from the temptation, Spike forced himself to look into the passion-glazed green eyes in front of him. Cupping her face lovingly, he managed to rein in his desire long enough to ask, "Buffy... do you want me?"

    Did she want him? Yes, she really did, knowing this had been building up since the moment she had gotten into his car. Buffy nodded in response, really just wanting to get back to the kissing part. Because wow... who knew?  But his next words threw her off. 

    "Do you trust me?" 

    This time Buffy's nod came a little slower, but grew with conviction as she realized that yeah, she really did. Every moment she had been with him, her life had been at risk. He'd had thousands of opportunities to kill her, yet hadn't. Trust had been slow to build, but it was there. Even with this scarier version than she was used to. "Yes," she finally managed to say, wondering where this was leading.

    He smiled, the first true smile she had ever seen from him, and it was beautiful, dazzling. He was beautiful. Spike captured her lips again, and Buffy sighed with pleasure, liking the feel of his mouth against hers a lot. A shard of guilt tried to sneak through her bliss, telling her that she didn't deserve to feel it. Impatiently, she thrust it aside and focused her everything on the man in her arms.

    When he once again released her mouth, she took deep breaths to replenish her depleted oxygen; his face finding the groove of her neck. She hissed in pleasure when she felt his tongue dart out and lick a path, shivering as he blew a stream of cool air on the area he had just lavished.  Closing her eyes and tipping her head back, she granted him full access to her neck. Just what he was waiting for, her gift of trust - a sleek column of throat offered without regard to what he was

    It had to be done.

    Buffy barely had time to acknowledge the feel of sharp ridges emerging against her tender flesh before being assaulted by a sharp, piercing pain as his fangs slid effortlessly into her skin. She immediately tensed, her survival instinct kicking in and she tried to pull away. But Spike was prepared for her flight and kept a firm grip on her, working as quickly as he could.

    Taking his teeth from her flesh, Spike nicked his tongue and mixed their blood before soothing the burning wound with his tongue. Buffy continued to struggle, not understanding what he doing, or more importantly - why.

      "Trust me," he pleaded against the satiny skin of her neck, the scent of her fear not pleasing his demon a bit.

    "What are you doing?" Buffy asked shakily, trying to deny that Spike's tongue on his mark felt good. 

    When Spike was satisfied it would scar properly, he pulled his head back, letting himself get lost in her eyes. "You're mine now."

    "I'm what?" Buffy asked, aghast, unable to believe that Spike had done something to her without asking. From Giles, she had learned more about vampires and their barbaric rituals than she wanted to, so she had an idea of what had been done.

    Only... this hadn't been much with the barbaric. And why was she feeling relieved rather than an overwhelming urge to stake his ass? But she knew why.

    It meant that he wouldn't leave her.

     Spike watched passively as her thoughts played over her expressive face, holding his breath at what appeared to be acceptance nodded. "Why?" she asked

    "Because I'm not letting you go," he murmured, running a hand gently down her hair. "You're all I've got."

    Slowly, Buffy's lips curved up into a smile, and Spike let out the breath he'd been anxiously holding. "So... now what?" she asked.

    His answering smile gave her a pretty clear picture of just what, exactly, he had in mind.

Present day

   Buffy jumped as a loud banging noise from the front room reverberated throughout the house, startling her from her little stroll down memory lane. Whipping around to face the sudden commotion,  Buffy watched the open entryway with growing anticipation. The heavy footsteps grew louder as they neared the kitchen, then stopped as the person responsible was framed in the doorway.

    "Hello, luv," Spike drawled, holding his welcoming arms open to her.

    "Hi," she answered back, a big goofy smile plastered on her face as she threw herself into his waiting embrace.  "I missed you."

    "Was only gone an hour, pet," he reminded her.

    "Yeah, and I missed you, you dope"

    "Eh. No need for name calling. So, what's got you into this little mood?"

    She shrugged. "I was just remembering all the bad that happened in Sunnydale and how much stuff  we went through before winding up here."

    "What brought all that on?" Spike tipped his head intently as he regarded her, knowing Buffy didn't often dwell on the past these days.

    "Because I was thinking about how happy I am and how I might have missed out on this," Buffy admitted, sneaking her arms up to circle his neck, pressing herself fully against his hard frame.

    "Yeah," Spike agreed blissfully, grinding himself against her.  "So....since we're so happy, care to venture upstairs?"

   Buffy pressed a quick kiss to his lips before drawing back regretfully. "Hello, it's bowling night."

    "Oh, right," Spike replied wistfully, cursing himself for not remembering before he went and got all worked up. Who was he kidding? He got worked up just looking at his girl. 

    But not even the lure of a fantastic shag could interrupt bowling night, as much as he hated to admit it. The Big Bad and bowling were two things he had never seen coming together, but couldn't deny he was hooked but good. It had started not long after arriving in town, a weak substitute for the brutal miniature golf game that had been interrupted while they had been on the road.

    It had only taken one game before they realized it easily filled the void of their previous attempts at killing each other; providing just enough challenge and more than enough opportunity for taunts and sly innuendo. Their supernatural strength had to be tempered but that was part of the challenge.  

    They had joined a bowling league not long after, something else Spike had never seen coming. The league consisted of a group of blue collar men and women who eagerly welcomed them into their town and their lives without a hint of reservation. Before long, their league had quickly become like family. And if they suspected something was off with Spike not leaving the house during the day, or Buffy's freaky strength, nothing was ever said.  

    Because it wouldn't have mattered.

    Spike didn't want to admit that those nights spent bowling with Buffy and their new friends were some of the best nights he'd ever had in his life. His life was so different now compared to the evil and chaos he had embraced before, yet there was nothing to complain about. Being with Buffy was indescribable, it made him human. In this town, he was a man, not a monster. Something he hadn't even known he craved or yearned for until it occurred. 

    When they had first arrived, his inherent lust for blood and violence taunted him daily, urging him to rip out the throats of everybody in town. As time went on, even that voice became quieter and quieter, his demon accepting the fact that to do so, would be to invite sheer loneliness and desolation.

    And that was not something he was willing to accept.  

       They belonged here.

    They had known that the very moment they had pulled into the quaint little town, both looking at the other with the same wide-eyed realization present. The endless nights of driving had come to end.

    A month and a half after leaving Sunnydale, they had found a place to put down roots. 

tbc...

DREAMS and DESOTOS

   Major thanks to the beta-age of Spikeskat. You rock girl!

Part 2

    Two weeks had passed in peaceful bliss since Buffy's last trip down memory lane. At times, it almost felt as if she'd been reborn; that this small piece of heaven was her reward for past sacrifices and the risks she'd been forced to take night after night. Yet, that small thread of pain that continued to shadow her  laughed at her naivety. 

    Because the world just did not work in that way. 

    If it did, Buffy wouldn't have felt compelled to flee her family and friends with her mortal enemy rather than face them.  But while content and happy, a part of her couldn't completely forget those she had left behind, and yearned for reconciliation.

    Not enough to do anything about it though. 

    Six months had passed since Buffy and Spike had first arrived in town. Outside their previous influences - it had ceased to matter that he was a vampire and she was the Slayer. Now they were simply two people starting over and falling in love. 

      The people of the town had yet to learn that a monster lived among them.  At the beginning, Buffy had been seriously paranoid about anybody stumbling onto the fact that Spike lacked a heartbeat, constantly on the lookout for things that would identify him as different. Mirrors. Sunlight. Invitation requirement. Luckily, that was something easily dealt with due to the friendliness of the town. Buffy found herself keeping an eye on Spike at first, not quite able to put aside the fact that he had killed more people than she wanted to even think about. 

     Eventually, her paranoid vigil relaxed and she began to get the feeling that it wouldn't be such a total big if Spike was found out. He was different now, no longer the cocky, evil vampire from Sunnydale. The Spike she slept with every night was the real Spike, and the real Spike was far less evil than he'd made himself out to be. She also knew that Spike considered this town his, and not in a diabolically evil Master vampire way either. He didn’t view the town’s people as his own personal food source; rather, a lot of them had become his friends.
 

     A month after settling in, Buffy had obtained a position working the evening shift four days a week in the emergency room of the town’s only hospital. She had needed something to fill the void that her new non-slayage status had left, so she'd gotten her Emergency Medical Technician certificate. Since driving an ambulance was out of the question, Buffy applied for an open position in the ER. 

    Her first job. Thanks to the false paperwork that Spike had managed to acquire, her age was listed as twenty-one and she had the same last name as Spike.  There had been moments of wig wondering if the false papers would hold up under inspection, not to mention that she was supposedly married to Spike. Marriage was something she had never given much thought to, but once Spike had explained why he had arranged it that way, it made sense. As a married couple, they wouldn't pique anybody's curiosity or disapproval.

    Buffy hadn't been sure what to expect working in the medical field, but soon found herself looking forward to going to work each day. Her hours of four in the afternoon until midnight meshed perfectly with Spike nocturnal habits, leaving them plenty of time together while letting Buffy discover her own independence. 

    Working at the hospital was completely different from her 'chosen' occupation and for the first time. Buffy had been thanked for her help. Even the fact that  she didn't have as direct a role in the life save-age aspect as before didn't bother her because she was part of a necessary medical team. Not having to be the one to make all the decisions?

    No complaints there.

    Plus helping people through some of the bleakest hours of their existence rewarded her in a way slaying never had. Buffy was appreciated for her efforts, by the patients, and especially by the staff.  She just fit in - yet another thing that she would have missed if she had stayed in Sunnydale. 

    While Buffy would work, Spike indulged in a pastime of his prior life - writing. When she had finally caught him diligently working on a laptop that had been recently purchased, Spike confessed to working on a novel. But instead of the ridicule he had expected in his paranoid fashion, she had managed to surprise him with a smile and a nod of encouragement.

    And Spike began writing in earnest, the horror story that had played out in his head demanding to make it onto paper while his fingers struggled to keep up.  The words flowed and within a month, he had completed more than half of it, finally allowing Buffy to read it.

    She had been astounded.

    Her enthusiasm and praise gave him the conviction to continue, secure in the knowledge that his writing had meaning, had depth.

    That it was good.

    Buffy would often watch him as he worked, barely able to believe that a creature who had so much nervous energy could keep still for so long to write. She loved watching him; the way his eyebrows knitted together in concentration, the way the tip of his tongue would just peek out from between his harsh determined lips...  Often times it was the smell of her acute arousal that would alert him that she was home. Of course, Buffy would then find herself tossed over his shoulder and taken upstairs to be properly shagged.

    Not that she ever complained.

       +++

 
     Once bowling had been added into their life, it was something that neither Spike or Buffy ever missed.

    Now, two weeks later, Spike and Buffy strolled hand in hand through the glass double doors, their bowling bags slung casually over their shoulders. Greetings were immediately tossed their way, and they replied in kind. They headed over to where their group had settled a few minutes earlier for their requisite session of weekly gossip.

      Spike left Buffy with the other women to attend to an important detail  Namely, the manly beer run. 

    Buffy sat down in one of the plastic chairs next to her friend Elaine, who immediately launched into informing her of the new products she had just started stocking in the beauty salon she owned. Elaine's husband, Rick, was off with Spike, and Elaine was more than anxious to get in some girl talk.

    On the low end of thirty, Elaine wore an extra twenty pounds around her middle, although insisting she'd had quite the figure at one time. Her features were attractive, though somewhat muted by the slight fullness of her face, and her long blonde hair was always artfully coiffed. Buffy had never seen Elaine when her make up hadn't been carefully applied, and had even requested her friend's expertise in that area. Elaine had not let her down either. 

    From the moment they had been introduced, Elaine and Buffy had clicked, and she had become Buffy's best friend since moving to Windmont.  Rick and Spike had developed an easy friendship, and the two couples usually spent two or three nights a week together.

    "Sooooo..." Elaine began meaningfully, "how are you and Spike doing?"

    Buffy laughed, commenting, "Geez, you ask me that every time I see you!!"

    "Yeah, and you always smile your little happy smile and say 'good' in that dreamy voice of yours," Elaine replied in exasperation.  "I mean, come on. Look at the guy."  Buffy couldn't help but do just that as Spike came back carrying several pitchers of beer. The well-built physique of Elaine's husband trailed a step behind, a pitcher locked in his grip as well.

     Spike had come up with a retro black bowling shirt he'd bought in a local second hand store, and had Spike embroidered over the pocket. The shirt, together with his black jeans, black and white bowling shoes and his bleached blonde hair slicked back in its familiar style, cut quite a stunning picture.  His retro bowling outfit was always cause for ribbing, but he took it good-naturedly. Little did they know that prior to their arrival in Windmont, Spike would have ripped the throat out of anyone who mocked him. Now he just took it in the spirit it was intended. 

    "Oh yeah, I'm totally looking," Buffy announced, staring unabashedly. Spike caught her gaze just then, running his tongue slowly over his pearly whites, his smoky intense gaze boring into her own eyes.  "And I think I'll be doing a whole lot more than looking after we finish bowling tonight," Buffy added carelessly, causing her friend to laugh.  Spike winked at her, knowing full well the direction of Buffy's thoughts, handing her the coke that had been requested.  

    League night had begun.  

    By the fifth frame, the other five couples were watching what they had long since coined the Spike and Buffy show, as the two blondes tried to out bowl each other.  Both exhibited such smooth grace and dead-on precision, sending the ball hurtling down the lane, almost always destroying all the pins sitting in its path. They were a sight to behold.

     All the women, married or not, couldn't help but watch Spike, each deciding long ago that he possessed that animal magnetism they had only read about in books.

    There was little doubt that Spike was popular among their group. All the men liked his outspoken, sarcastic British views and considered him a lucky bastard for being independently wealthy like he apparently was, and for being married to a girl like Buffy. There was a dangerous edge to him, something that had made them pause for just a moment when they had first met him, but now it didn't even register anymore.  The women of the group liked Spike's gentle teasing and appreciated the sex appeal that just seemed to ooze from him.  It was the  general consensus that Spike and Buffy were perfectly suited, and nobody doubted their affection for each other. Theirs was a close knit group, aware of the aspects of the others lives. And while the deception sometimes weighed heavily on Buffy, she valued being treated like a normal person for once, far too much to tell her friends the truth.

     Sometimes she wondered just what her new friends would think if they knew just what exactly Spike was.  And what she had been in her former life. This town was so far off the radar of the demon populace  that it had taken Buffy a few seconds to react when she had been confronted with the one and only vampire she had seen in the entire six months that they had lived there. Luckily, she had been by herself, and had dispatched it with little difficulty.

    No, the supernatural and Windmont were unmixy things, and that suited Buffy perfectly. Spike, her new friends, bowling, and her job were more than enough for her.

tbc...

Chapter 3

      No, the supernatural and Windmont were unmixy things, and that suited Buffy perfectly. Spike, her new friends, bowling, and her job were more than enough for her.

    But like all things in Buffy's life, nothing could ever remain calm and quiet for very long. Trouble blew into town the very next week, and decided it wanted to stay awhile.

    In celebration of Buffy's birthday, a small party had been planned at Larry's bar. Technically it was only her 18th birthday, but her falsified papers listed it as being her 22nd. The few choice friends rowdily celebrating her birthday with her at the bar were such a far cry from her angst-filled birthday of the previous year that it was easy to imagine that the drama that had unfolded with Angel had never taken place.

    Almost.

    Larry's Bar always reminded Buffy of the Bronze. It wasn't just a place for to drink, but was a social focal point. But unlike the Bronze, all age groups were represented since it was one of the only places to go. 

    "Come on, Greased Lightening, it's your turn," Rick announced, pointing his pool cue in Spike's direction. The others in their group had pretty much deserted them in favor of the dance floor.  It was oldies night, and the sounds of Buddy Holly were spilling out of the speakers to the delight of many of the mixed aged patrons.

    "Greased Lightening, eh?  Bloody fine movie, that one was." Spike bent down to line up his shot. With uncanny precision, he sunk the ball he was aiming for before taking a leisurely sip from his mug of draft beer. He smirked in Rick's direction. "And I believe that makes it... still my turn."

    "Shit."

    Buffy and Elaine joined them after a trip to the bathroom.  "Oh god, don't tell me you guys are playing for money again?" 

    Spike winked and leaned over to capture Buffy's lips in a heated kiss. "Of course we are, luv.  It's more... challenging that way. Right, Rick?"

    "Yeah, that's what you keep saying," Rick muttered good-naturedly.

    "You do realize that Spike's been playing pool for like, ever, and you have no possible chance of winning?"

    "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Buffy," Rick grumbled, knowing the words she spoke were the truth.   

    Didn't mean he had to like it though.

    "Hey, it's not my bloody fault Rickie boy here keeps accepting my challenge," Spike protested, pausing to light a cigarette in between rounds of his dominance over the pool table. He decided to miss one on purpose to keep Rick on the hook, stepping back to let his friend try to win.    

    "How old are you anyway, Spike?" Elaine asked curiously.  Every time the subject had come up, she'd always gotten an evasive answer and that just wasn't acceptable.

    "Old," Buffy answered with a private smirk. "Way old."

    "Hey, come on! Spill!  It's a woman's prerogative to do the evasive thingie about age, not a guy's! You two are being totally lame, you know that, right" Elaine took pleasure in informing them.

    Buffy shrugged nonchalantly, hating to keep lying to her friend.

     Grinding out his cigarette in the ashtray, Spike answered, "I'm around thirty, give or take a few years."

    Buffy couldn't help the snort that erupted at that answer. Arching an eyebrow in her direction, Spike asked, "Something you want to say, Slayer?"

    "See? There you go again with the secretive stuff! So, what's the story behind this "Slayer" pet name?" Elaine asked, again receiving a shuttered look. "Oh come on, you guys!!!  It's not nice to keep secrets from your best friends!"

    "I don't care about their secrets," Rick injected, receiving a dirty look from his wife. "What? I don't."

    Elaine shook her head in defeat. "Ok, ok! I get it!  You guys are probably in the Witness Protection program or something, aren't you? And I'm like being totally obnoxious asking all kinds of personal questions, aren't I?"

    Buffy just looked at her best friend and smiled, wishing she could just share everything with her, but fear kept her silent. She loved this woman, and hated all the secrets they had to keep from her.  But she'd definitely have to remember the witness protection excuse...

    Suddenly, the familiar tickle at the back of her neck made her senses go on immediate alert. This was a hit on the radar that she hadn't felt in ages, especially since she had gotten used to Spike's particular brand of tingles. Looking over at Spike, Buffy realized that he was also tense with anticipation, feeling the presence of other vampires in the very near vicinity. This was so not of the good, Buffy bemoaned, wondering why she thought she could ever have a normal birthday.

    Rick and Elaine exchanged curious looks when their attempts at conversation were suddenly ignored, realizing that their friends attention was diverted elsewhere. It was a bit on the weird side too, because it seemed they were reacting to something that nobody else could see or hear. 

    "Do you two see ghosts are something?" Elaine questioned, studying Buffy's intent face. Her eyes followed the direction that her friend was staring.

    What occurred next happened in a sluggish fashion, a muted blur of activity that seemed to slow down time. 

    The doors to the bar crashed open, and immediately the crowd in the intimate bar tensed as a group of bikers entered. By all outward appearances, with the leather, chains and grungy hygiene, they could have been a Hells Angels biker gang or something similar. But Spike and Buffy knew they was something more.

    The gang spilled in, fanning out around the perimeter of the room, strategically blocking all possible exits. Their cocky manner suggested that they anticipated an easy massacre with little resistance before they rode out of town to wreck havoc on the next town. Buffy did a quick head count, coming up with at least fifteen. Still doable, she'd faced worse. She looked around the bar, noting the lack of panic but the high level of apprehension. Ok, apprehension was of the good. There would be panic soon enough, she knew. 

    The respect given to the last man to saunter in by the other members clearly marking him as their leader. He was tall and his human face was not quite as visually unpleasant as others she'd seen.  The fact that they all wore their humans faces told her that these were not fledgings - not that Buffy really cared, finding they all dusted the same.

    With a sinister nod to one of his men, the door was slammed shut and quickly locked; causing apprehension to give way to rising panic. The plug was pulled on the music in the middle of Tequila, and that act alone had drawn a hint of outrage. Not having realized the gravity of the situation, it was quite clear by the ominous click of the lock that rang out through the silent bar that something bad was about to occur. To most of the patrons, the entire scene had taken on a surreal aspect, as they waited to see what act would unfold next.

    With a mocking strut, the leader walked over to the smooth expanse of the bar and slapped his hand down on top of it.  "I'd like some beer for me and my boys," he ordered, his voice low and chilling. Nobody moved and even though the customers far outweighed the gang in number, nobody was willing to find out what they were doing in their small town.

    The bartender nodded nervously.  "Uh.. tap?"

    The leader vamp shifted into game face and grabbed the terrified bartender by his lapels, hauling him across the bar. "Why thank you, don't mind if I do," he announced with an evil grin, the disco strobe light bouncing off of his gleaming fangs.

    "No,... please..." the bartender begged. Delayed panic now flooded the air as everyone in the bar caught a glimpse of the monster that now held one of their own hostage.  Looking around in blind terror, they noticed that all the bikers wore the same evil face. Some part of their brains gasped and screamed that this couldn't be true, that such things did not exist, but they were unable to deny what was right in front of their eyes. With another sweeping glance, the realization that all the exits were completely cut off drew out an hysterical tittering from around the room, as they all began to fear for their lives.

    Spike looked on as Gary, who had served him drinks and stimulating conversation ever since he had arrived in town, was seconds away from having his life taken from him. And for the first time, he felt true disgust for what he was. This swoop and kill was nothing less than he'd done hundreds of times before, but now it sickened him.

    Well, there would be no killing here if he could help it.

    Stepping forward, Spike sounded a warning growl, motioning with one hand for Buffy to stay back.  She obliged, seeing the look on Spike's face and guessing the reason for it.

    The vampire spun around, dropping the petrified bartender roughly on top of the wooden slab. Horrified faces watched Spike, the only one in their midst who seemed willing to stand up to god only knew what these men were, and their faces began showing a slight sign of hope.  Silence had taken over with the hope of making themselves invisible, as the majority of the patrons huddled in a small circle on the dance floor where they had previously been enjoying themselves. The others kept themselves still in various locations around the bar. Elaine had grabbed Buffy and Rick's hands, beyond terrified.

     Rick looked over at Buffy and wondered about the pissed-off look on her face, thinking it at odds with the situation. He himself was feeling a sense of terror he'd never before experienced, and was not ashamed to admit to it. These men were not normal, and they damned sure weren't wearing costumes. Their deformed faces were far too realistic for that. Rick didn't want to think of the implications of what that meant, his only thought consuming him was to get out of this situation alive. He silently watched his friend, Spike approach the ring leader, with apparently no fear, whatsoever.  He had always had gotten a sense that something was different about Spike, some dangerous edge that he seemed to always be working to control.  But now, Rick was more than glad that at least one of them were brave enough to face this threat, and felt just a minimal amount of shame at not backing his friend up.

    "Well now, what do we have here?"  the vampire announced, with a sinister grin. He'd sensed the presence of another vampire in the midst but had not been overly concerned, feeling security in the sheer number of his group.  A primitive meeting of demons came in to play as they evaluated the other.

    "Get back on your bikes, and shove off. This is my town," Spike snarled, his smaller frame appearing larger and more menacing due to his assured body language and the black leather duster he wore so easily.

    The vampire laughed, taking the few steps that separated them and invading personal space. He looked down at Spike and smirked, knowing instinctively that this vampire was older than himself, but also knowing he was outnumbered.  "Really?" the biker vamp drawled, making a issue of looking around the bar. "Not seeing any of your own here to back your claim. So I'm thinking I'm taking over your... town."

    "Not gonna happen,"  Spike commented unperturbed, reaching into his duster for his pack of smokes. He lit one up nonchalantly and blew smoke into the other vampire's face.

    The biker vamp laughed at the audacity, and crossed his arms over his chest, impressed despite himself. There was something familiar here...  "You got a name?"

    Spike took another leisurely drag of his cigarette before answering, "Spike."

    Recognition dawned on the other vampire's face, and he broke into a delighted grin which appeared grotesque on the distorted face. The lineage was like royalty among the undead. "Ah... the missing 'William the Bloody'. Rumor had it that you went to hell along with the rest of your family."

    Another indifferent shrug rolled off of Spike's shoulders. "Well, guess  you heard wrong.  So as I said, you can bloody well hop on your bikes and hit the road. This town already has a bloody master, and that would be... me. This is MY town."

     "But I was just starting to like it here," the other vampire mocked.

    "Go find yourself another town." Spike said, his voice cruel and menacing.

     Elaine looked questioning at Buffy, the knowledge that these... things knew her husband was just too much to take in, but she found her friend's focus was entirely on the confrontation taking place in the middle of the bar. Elaine could feel Buffy's muscles tense under her hand and had to drop it suddenly with the pressure that was being exerted.

    Buffy never even noticed.

    The same look of cold determination was set on her face and Elained wished she had the nerve to voice a question, but fear of drawing attention to herself held her back. So she settled for just watching with bated breath as the next course of events unraveled. But she really wanted to know who William the Bloody was.

    The biker vamp let out a petulant sigh.  "Fine, if that's the way you are going to be. Thought you Aurelians were a bit more hospitable."  He grinned at the cold look Spike continued to give him.  "Pity. Oh well. I think I'll just have a snack before I go ."

    He sauntered back to the bar and reached over to where the terrified bartender had been huddling behind the bar trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible - dragging him back over the wooden divider.  The vampire laughed at the immediate scent of fear that permeated the air, taking a deep, appreciative breath.

    Elaine gasped with fear when she saw her friend Gary at the hands of this monster once more, almost breaking into tears at the absolutely terrified look on the man's face. Then there was that slight bit of guilt that struck her when the voice in the back of her head whispered, "I'm glad that's not me."  

    The events that followed defied description, however. 

    With a savage roar, Spike closed the distance and grabbed the other vamp's wrist in a crushing lock, his vampire features having slid instinctively into place in response to his fury. "My town, my people," Spike growled, tightening his grip so the biker vamp was forced to release his hostage with a pained cry, rather than risk his wrist being crushed to powder. Gary scrambled away to safety, where he was immediately engulfed in protective arms.

    Two sets of amber eyes were locked on the other, both challenging and focused.  Spike was unaware of the gasps of shock that sounded through the bar as his real identity was revealed, his only focus was eliminating this threat.  "Leave. Now," he ordered.

    Even though it was an elder giving him orders-and a famous one at that- the other vampire saw himself as having the advantage and smiled with amusement. "I'm thinking...no. Way I see it, I dust you, I take this town. It must have something going for it, since you're all gung-ho on protecting it. Tell me, what's so special about it?"

    Elaine didn't think that anything else could shock her until she saw Buffy take her pool cue and break it over her lifted knee as if it were a twig, then watched as she walked forward defiantly to stand next to her husband.

    God, was he REALLY her husband?  Elaine was going to throttle Buffy for keeping this kind of a secret from her, because best friends just didn't do that... Wait! Was Buffy a monster too?  Oh god, she couldn't look. Wait, she had to look. Dammit, she couldn't.

    Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she had to look. She became increasingly frustrated, just wanting to get the whole ordeal over with.  

    The biker vamp looked Buffy over lustily as she came to stand beside Spike, an amused smile curling across his face. "A human? Really, Spike, I expected a lot more from someone with your... reputation."

    Buffy looked over at Spike and asked, "Was that supposed to be an insult? Should I be insulted?"

    Spike smirked in her direction. "I think so, luv."

    "Sorry, it's been awhile." Buffy told the other vampire.  "I'm a little rusty at this, so if you could just identify your comment as an insult, I'd really appreciate it."

    A laugh escaped the distorted face. "I like this girl. I can almost see the attraction."  He gave a nod to one of his men, who promptly rushed forward and seized Buffy from behind, causing her to drop her makeshift weapon.

    "Ugh. The least you could have done is take a shower before you rolled into town. You may not need to breathe, but hello, the rest of us do," Buffy announced, her nose scrunching up in disgust.  

    Elaine was outraged by the blasé attitude that Spike possessed about Buffy being in the hands of these monsters, merely smoking a cigarette like her friend wasn't in mortal danger. What the hell was wrong with him?  Unless he really WAS evil or something.  But wait, Buffy was with him and she was human, or at least that is what these monsters kept harping on...

    Gah! She was so confused and god, she SO needed this to be over to get the total scoop. This had all the makings for a full night of gossip. Elaine impatiently began tapping her foot, causing her husband Rick to gape at her with a look of disbelieving outrage on his face at her seeming audacity.  Curbing her impatience, she watched to see what would unfold next.

    The vampire who held Buffy wrenched her arms cruelly behind her back, secure in the knowledge that a mere mortal was no match for his superior strength.  Spike blew out a leisurely stream of smoke and commented, "Wouldn't do that if I were you, mate."

    "Does it disturb you? Seeing your little woman helpless and knowing there isn't a thing that you can do about it?" The lead vamp mocked, walking over to where Buffy was restrained, nuzzling her neck before drawing back with a wide smile. "Why... William the Bloody has claimed a human. How sweet."

    "Yeah, well, she can be a right bitch when she wants to be," Spike replied.

    "Hey!" Buffy yelled indignantly.

    "It's true, luv."

    "You still don't have to go announcing it everywhere," she muttered under her breath, shooting Spike an icy glare.

    Spike shrugged with indifference, biding his time until this group let down their guard just enough for them to strike.

    "Well then, you probably won't mind if I do this, will you?" the lead vampire asked, trailing his finger along the side of Buffy's breast while keeping an eye on Spike's reaction. He knew full well he was playing with fire, touching the property of an elder vamp, but the deck was weighed in his favor and he was determined to milk this for all he could. 

    "As I said, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Spike commented, his voice deceptively calm voice, but inside his rage was close to the boiling point.

    "Why? Think you can take us? All by yourself?"  Laughter poured from the vampire at the absurdity of one against fifteen, regardless of the ancestry.

    "No, not just me," Spike drawled.

    A small hint of uncertainty colored the other vampire's face as he let his senses take another sweep around the bar to make sure that there were no minions tucked away. Assured that the only demons were present and accounted for, he opened his mouth to speak when all hell broke loose.

    In an unexpected flurry of movement, Buffy broke her captor's lax hold and grabbed the fractured pool cue off the ground. With lethal accuracy, she spun around and thrust the tip into the chest of the vampire that'd held her before he could even move, promptly sprinkling to the ground in a rain of dust.  

    "He told you not to do that, but you just didn't listen, did you?" Buffy asked the raised pile of vampire ash on the floor, rising herself up into a graceful warrior's pose, breaking the cue in half once more and throwing one end in Spike's direction. Weapons were always of the good. "Did you?"

    "Don't think he can hear you now, luv," Spike informed her.

    The biker vamp threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Spike, I've always heard wild stories about you, but this one takes the cake. Alright, you win. Didn't expect to find the slayer here, so we'll tuck our tails between our legs and leave town."

    Elaine let out a sigh of relief, glad that the danger seemed to have passed. The monsters had said they were leaving, and the relief practically flooded the bar.  But then Buffy did something that shocked the hell out of Elaine, who had already been shocked way past her limit for one evening, thank you very much. She calmly stepped up to the monster who had done all the talking and told him that that option was no longer available.

    Was she insane?

    Elaine couldn't wait to get the complete story on this one because well, this went beyond every piece of gossip she'd ever picked up. Her new best friend just killed something right in front of them.  Her husband apparently had fangs, and Buffy seemed to be cool with that.  And Elaine had an overwhelming desire to be in the know. 

    And then Buffy made the first move and a fight started, causing Elaine‘s eyes to practically bug from her head as she exchanged bewildered looks with her husband. What the... Holy crap, this was her best friend??
.

tbc...

Thank you SpikesKat for the beta'ing!!

chapter 4       

    Elaine could barely believe the sight before her. If someone had told her that her eyes were literally popping out of her head, it would come as no surprise.  She managed to spare her husband a miniscule exchange of glances-that screamed of mutual incredulity- before her attention was once again riveted back to the scene unfolding before her.

    The group of monsters converged on the blonde pair in a circular fashion, finally having figured out the most effective way to attack. The only sound was the repetitive bragging about who would be the one to kill the Slayer. Apparently, this was supposed to upset them, yet Buffy and Spike did not look troubled by it, if their facial expressions were any indication. This thoroughly confused Elaine, who was severely bothered by the fact that Spike's pet name for Buffy was a well-known moniker among these... things, and she had yet to learn the meaning behind it.

    But most disturbing of all, were the looks that kept drifting over both Spike and Buffy's faces, while they stood back to back, waiting in eager anticipation.  Elaine couldn't understand the lack of fear present on Buffy's face. Jeez, if that were her out there, she'd be a spastic puddle on the floor by now. But her friend just kept throwing out little jibes and witty comments, practically bouncing with anticipation. 

    Then the actual fighting started, and with a flurry of punches and kicks that no normal person could do, Elaine watched as the number of vampires dwindled from the daunting number of fourteen to a mere handful. The smile on Buffy's face was almost unnerving; not only was she extremely competent, she seemed to be totally enjoying herself.  Several of the men tried to suck up their fear and step in to offer assistance, but Buffy just called out that they had it under control.  And, oh, did they ever.

    Elaine was forced to seek shelter from the flying debris, irritated that her view of the action was partially obstructed.  There was a feeling of horrified anticipation shared by the patrons scattered around the bar, but as more of the monsters turned to dust, that feeling quickly gave way to relief.

    Never mind the disturbing knowledge that creatures existed that did crumble to dust with a Hollywood stereotype of being staked through the heart.  

    Finally, it was over and Spike and Buffy stood facing each other among the wreckage of what used to be an immaculate bar. Now, it was riddled with broken tables and chairs, shattered glass and bottles and piles of vampire dust. Buffy's chest heaved with the unaccustomed exertion of slaying and neither could help but smile with a wide, satisfied look on their faces.  

    "I see you still got it in ya, Slayer," Spike commented with a smirk.

    Buffy drew herself up and crossed her arms over her chest. "You weren't so bad yourself. Although I'm not sure which I enjoy more; kicking your ass or having you at my back."  

    Spike took a step in her direction to assure himself that she had come through unscathed when he became aware of Gary approaching him hesitantly. Fear continued to pour off the man and Spike realized his demonic features were most likely responsible. With a slight shake of his head, he allowed his features to relax into the human mask that the town had grown accustomed to.

    "You ok?" Spike asked gruffly, more self-conscious than he would have liked.

    Gary nodded, although 'ok' was pushing it; his near-death experience still fresh in his mind. "So... uh... just want to know something. What the hell are you?"

     Spike sighed heavily, realizing he wasn't looking forward to this part. "Vampire."

    "Oh." Gary studied Spike closely and then nodded, as if he had found the answer to a private question he sought. "Want a beer?"

    Spike couldn't help the sudden sappy smile that plastered itself across his face, knowing he has sunk to yet another level of un-evil when the acceptance of this mortal meant something, but couldn't quite bring himself to care. "Fuck yeah, I do."

    Gary nodded and turned towards the bar, which had surprisingly come through unscathed.  The patrons of the bar had yet to make a move, still bewildered by what had just occurred. They merely watched in stunned silence as Spike followed the bartender and stood by the bar.

    Feeling the post-slayage adrenaline fleeing her system and leaving her parched, Buffy moved to join her husband but found herself unexpectedly jerked around.

    "Oh... no you don't, little missy," Elaine announced, her face intent. "I have something I need to do first."

    Buffy regarded her warily, but when her friend suddenly threw her arms around her and engulfed her in a tight hug, she relaxed.

     "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" Elaine cried. "I'm mad as hell at you for not telling me before that you're some kind of super-freak, but hey, thank you for saving us tonight."

    Buffy decided Elaine must have a bit of super human-strength herself, suddenly finding her ability to take in oxygen severely compromised by the iron bands Elaine called arms wrapped tightly around her middle. As quickly as she had been grabbed, Buffy found herself released and watched as Elaine turned on Spike.

    "And YOU!" Elaine yelled, pointing her finger in the vampire's direction. "I am totally pissed off at you. Sunlight allergy, my ass! I can't believe you didn't tell us!"

    Rick came up behind his wife, wondering once again if Elaine's mouth was going to get her into trouble. Or in this case, eaten. He looked warily at what he hoped was still his friend.

  "Bloody hell, Rickie boy, I'm not going to eat your wife," Spike announced dryly, rolling his eyes.

    "Damn," Rick muttered instinctively, responding to Spike as he normally did.

    Elaine whirled on her husband, gasping with indignation. "I so cannot believe you just said that!" She swatted her husband's arm furiously.

    Rick spun away, trying to avoid his wife's wrath. "Ow! I was just kidding! Geez!"

    Elaine glared at him, then turned her attention back to more important matters. "So... Let's just get a few things straight here." Her heavily made-up eyes whipped back and forth between Buffy and Spike. "You're a vampire," she said, pointing a manicured finger at Spike. "And you're... what?" she asked Buffy.

    "I'm just Buffy," she tried to answer, but crumbled under her friend's weighty glare. "Ok, fine, I'm the vampire Slayer."

    Elaine nodded in consideration, still eyeing the two. "So, Spike. Do you eat people?"

    "Just Buffy."

    This time it was Buffy's turn to round on her spouse, her face filled with embarrassed indignation as she swatted Spike's arm. "Oh my god, I so cannot believe you just said that!" she hissed.

    Spike didn't run from his wife's wrath like Rick had done, merely laughed and gathered her in his arms. "Someone here has a dirty mind because I was referring to your blood, princess."

    "Oh," Buffy mumbled. "I knew that."

    "Right," Spike mocked, pressing small, slow, kisses down Buffy's neck.

    They were once more interrupted by Elaine's loud voice sounding out through the silent club. "What is wrong with you people?? Hello!  Why are you all just standing there? There are some heroes that need to be thanked here!"

    That blunt reminder served to break the spell that held the townspeople transfixed and the heroes in question soon found themselves surrounded by the people they had come to call friends. There was a certain level of wariness among the crowd as they slowly approached Spike, but much to the vampire's surprise, it didn't last long.  The easy acceptance that came his way shocked him, filling him with yet another sensation of completion that Spike didn't even know he'd been yearning for. 

    It humbled him.

    Word immediately made its way through the small town, and the bar was soon overflowing with townspeople  intent on seeing for themselves if the strange tale being whispered about was really true. Children joining their parents in the bar as they flocked to pay homage. Spike lost track of how many times he'd had to switch in and out of game face to satisfy morbid curiosity, and how many times his face had been poked and prodded. Rather than causing irritation, it calmed him, knowing that his friends trusted him that much. 

    When the occupancy level was maxed out at the bar, Buffy decided to move matters along and address everybody at once.. She hopped up on the bar and tried to call for everyone's attention, but the noise level was so intense her voice was unable to penetrate through their conversations.

    Elaine, seeing what Buffy was attempting, joined her friend and used her loud voice to lend assistance. "Hey people!" she yelled. "Buffy is trying to say a few words, so everyone shut your yaps for a few, got it?"

    Elaine's ear piercing decibels served to do the trick, and Buffy soon found the focus on her. As she looked around, she could swear that practically the whole town had assembled in under a half an hour. She hopped up on the bar's well-polished wooden slab, bringing her legs up under her so she sat Indian-style.

    Smiling hesitantly and feeling more than a little self-conscious now that their secret was out, Buffy cleared her throat. "Um... I just wanted to clear a few things up so you could motor if you need to." Feeling much like a professor addressing a lecture hall, she Buffy caught Spike's eye and gestured for him to join her.

    When he leapt with easy grace to settle by her side, she felt more comfortable. Taking a quick settling breath, she began, "Ok, don't really know how to go about this so I'll just start with the obvious. Vampires are real. I know there is a lot of wiggage that goes along with that, but it's not like I can deny their existence at this point.  Second," she looked over at Spike and grabbed his hand for moral support, "Spike is a vampire. Third, I'm the Vampire Slayer-"

    "What is that, exactly?" Elaine couldn't help but interrupt to ask, her curiosity still fully aroused. She'd prefer to be the only one privvy to that info - being the best friend and all - but at this point, she'd take what she could get.

    Spike fielded the question before Buffy could reply. "Bit like a super-hero, really. One chosen bird who gets super powers to take out my kind. That Chosen bird is Buffy."

    "Well, actually there are two now. Since I died and everything, I kinda messed things up," Buffy imparted.

    "You DIED??!!!" Elaine shrieked, eyes bulging.

    "Ok, long story. Like one so totally for later."

    The librarian for the elementary school spoke up, not feeling entirely comfortable with the new developments. "So, if you're this...Slayer, and you are supposed to... kill vampires, why this? Why haven't you killed him?"

    That question was met with silence, nobody wanting to admit they were waiting to see if any ill will would befall Mrs. Prisk. When it looked like she would come through the inquiry unscathed, heads nodded in agreement as they awaited the answer.

  "Well, I tried. Lots," Buffy replied defensively,

    Spike snorted derisively. "Yeah, same here. I can't tell you how many times I tried to off her, but never could manage it. And I've been responsible for taking out two of her kind in my day."

    Horrified silence followed that statement as it was processed just what Spike had revealed, and Buffy turned to smack Spike again. "Geez! Talk about giving away a bit too much information!"

    "Hey! Better stop smacking me around, Slayer," Spike growled, causing Buffy to roll her eyes in his direction.

    Seeing the need for damage control, Buffy hurried to say, "So, obviously we're not trying to kill each other anymore.  And Spike is not like those vamps that you saw, he's totally different."

    "How?" Mrs. Prisk asked.

    With a smirk, Buffy replied, "Because I tamed him."

    She started giggling at the outraged snort that sounded beside her and turned her head to witness the dark scowl that covered his face. "You're lucky I love you, Slayer. Otherwise I'd kill you for that little remark," Spike snarled, glaring at her.

    Buffy tried to draw her face into a mask of seriousness, but failed miserably. "Likewise, baby."

    Spike retaliated by snaking his hand out to cup the back of her head and hauling her closer so that he could crush his lips against hers in a manner that was anything but gentle, effectively reminding her that he was far from tamed. Buffy's giggles turned into a whimper and she promptly forgot they had an audience that consisted of practically the whole town as they melted into the other.

    "Hey..., hey..., HEY!!!!" Elaine yelled, clapping her hands to regain their attention. "You guys can do that once you get home! Because right now, I need some answers and like NOW."

    They drew apart reluctantly, Spike smirking at the dazed look on Buffy's face, feeling her properly punished for daring to call him tamed.

    "Ok, shoot,"  Buffy told Elaine.

    Elaine huffed incredulously at the girl she called 'best friend'. "Hello, do I even need to say it? I want to know how you guys wound up together and what the hell you're doing here!"

    Twenty minutes later, the entire town had a newfound respect for the pair, regarding them with something akin to awe.  Elaine threw her arms around Spike and Buffy, hugging them tight. "Oh my god, that was the most romantic thing I have ever heard!!!!"  She released them and dabbed at her tears. Pinning a stern look on Buffy, Elaine announced heatedly, "And you and I are going to be doing a little bit more talking...in private!! I ought to flog you, little missy!! You know that?  But you know what? I just love you to pieces." She threw her arms around Buffy once more.

    Rick and Spike exchanged identical looks of pained suffering, shaking their heads. "Dude, I am never playing you for money again," Rick informed him, earning a smirk from Spike. He would never admit to feeling relieved by Rick's obvious acceptance of him but the truth was, Spike had been worried; not wanting to give up the easy friendship he had shared with the other man.

    Buffy was right. He had been tamed.

    And that was just a bit of alright.

    Someone plugged the music back in, and "Oldies Night" continued, almost as if there hadn't been an interruption of life-altering proportions. Buffy's 22nd birthday was celebrated with a bit more gusto than it had begun, and near-tragedy aside, Buffy felt as if a weight had been lifted.

     The town was aware that people were looking for them and had banded together to keep their secret safe, in a true testament of friendship.

    Life went on as usual. 
 

    Until the next thing popped up.

tbc...

Dreams and Desotos

  Chapter 5

a/n many thanks to Spikeskat for the great beta job she did on this chapter, she REALLY helped me out!

    Life, surprisingly, did not change much for Spike and Buffy once their secrets had been revealed. Spike came to appreciate not having to hide from mirrors anymore and having to explain his sunlight intolerance away. He no longer had to be nagged by Buffy to remember to dress according to the weather, another thing that suited him just fine. He would think nothing of walking out in the middle of a snowstorm wearing nothing but jeans and a t-shirt, only to be ordered back inside to put a jacket on.

     And his duster wasn't good enough either, usually being forced into wearing a multi-colored North Face parka more appropriate for the cold weather, that had cost a bloody fortune.

    But now? Things were all nice and tidy, just the way he liked them.

   There was also little need to check their superhuman strength, which became beyond the liberating. The town actually took advantage of it, often asking for their assistance whe, mere mortal strength wasn't quite enough.

     Animal blood was much easier to obtain, now that the local butcher kept it in stock especially Spike. All in all, the town was very accommodating for their two supernatural heroes, not wanting to give them any reason to move on. Several parents of young children voiced concerns but were easily won over.

    It was more than Spike or Buffy ever expected. 

    They still bowled every Thursday night, and their savage competitiveness was better explained now. As a result, the bowling alley suffered an even greater number of equipment fatalities. But everyone still agreed, the two were incredible to watch.

    The first Thursday after the bar incident, bowling night started off slightly awkward for the blonde duo. As they entered the bowling alley that night, a larger crowd than normal was present. Neither paid much attention to the people loitering around the bar or standing against the wall, talking in small clusters. They quickly made their way to Elaine and Rick, who were waving them over from their regular lane. 
    

    Buffy gave Elaine a quick hug while Spike shook Rick’s hand, their usual smirks firmly in place. Buffy glanced back nervously at the crowd of people congregating near the bar.
 

    “What’s with all the people? Is there like a party or something?” Buffy asked.
 

    “Yeah, and you're the guest of honor, sweets," Elaine commented wryly.

    "Huh?"

    "Oh, don’t pay them any mind. They’re just here to gawk at our town’s new superheroes,” Elaine said with a wink. She glanced over at Spike slyly, letting her eyes roam appreciatively over the fine specimen that was his body as he stood talking with her husband. "Well, there may be more than gawking from some of us," she added teasingly.

    Buffy’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “You’re kidding, right?”

   
    “Nope. I mean, really. Can you blame us? Just look at him." Elaine sighed dramatically to emphasize her point, still staring.

    Buffy rolled her eyes derisively, well acquainted with Elaine's quite verbal appreciation of her husband's physical attributes. Of course, her eyes had to follow Elaine's and she got caught up in her own world of drool. Dammit, Elaine always did that to her. If she didn't know that Elaine and Rick were completely nuts about each other, she might have some major issues with Elaine's continuous lustful comments about her guy. But, for the most part, she just found it amusing and it was always a challenge to keep her mind out of the gutter when she was around her friend. Valiantly pushing thoughts away of Spike and sex, Buffy focused. "No, the people, Elaine. I'm talking about the people."

    Elaine giggled. "I always get you. You're so easy, you know that?" She ignored the dirty look Buffy threw her way, waving her hand dramatically. "They’re hanging out so they can thank you both, silly.”
 

    “Thank us?” Buffy turned to Spike, confused. “They want to thank us,” she mouthed, pointing at the people.

    Spike just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Got me, pet.”
 

    “Come on, Buffy. Let’s go say hello to your adoring public. Now, don't forget to smile, and tell everyone I'm your BEST friend, got it?” Elaine instructed, looping an arm through hers and dragging her away from the guys.

    Vaguely, Buffy heard Spike say that he and Rick were going to get some beer. She just nodded as she was lead away by her friend.
 
    

     Buffy found her new celebrity status slightly uncomfortable, but she soon realized what this was what had been missing from her time as the Slayer.

    Appreciation. 

     The town had gathered merely to show their gratitude, and Buffy just wasn't used it. Still, it was... nice.  Spike didn't seem to have a problem with it, Buffy realized as she glanced over to where he was standing by the bar with Rick, accepting the gratitude of the people around him. If he seemed embarrassed by the easy acceptance of the townspeople, he never let on, taking their thanks in stride as if it were no big deal. Buffy realized that it was probably the first time his demon had been fully accepted.
 

    For a man who was already well-liked by the townsfolk, this new, dangerous, supernatural edge just added to Spike's appeal. Especially by the romantics in the bunch. And the woman like Elaine.   

    The non-bowling crowd only remained for little over an hour, just long enough to express their support for the vampire and slayer in their midst. Buffy felt like she was getting to know practically everyone in town, having spoken with people tonight that she had only seen from afar.

    It was kinda... neat.

    Soon, it was just their regular tight knit group, and things were well on their way to being another entertaining league night.

    Spike and Rick had returned from their second bar run of the evening, setting the pitchers down on the table.  Buffy and Elaine looked up as they approached, and Elaine allowed the conversation to trail off since she had been pumping Buffy for juicy gossip about her sex life. Sex with a vampire... it was like something out of a torrid romance or something. And Elaine intended on finding out about every little detail.

    Spike handed Buffy her requisite diet coke, and she smiled her thanks as he settled next to her. Elaine kept a direct stare pinned on Spike, watching him tip his beer back and drain the mug. She found herself watching Spike a lot these days, finding his vampire status intriguing

    "Rickie Boy, could ya tell your wife to lay off the bloody eyeballing," Spike announced, refilling his beer.

    Rick looked over and saw his wife staring unabashedly in Spike's direction. "Elaine... " Rick said in a pained voice. Buffy had to hide the grin that had erupted on her face, especially when her friend completely ignored her husband and got to the heart of the matter.

    "So," Elaine stated finally. "You're like... dead."

    "Undead," Spike corrected.

    "What?" Elaine asked perplexed, her eyebrows making a valiant effort to furrow, but were restrained by the Botox injections she routinely received by the plastic surgeon in the next town.

    "He said he's undead, Elaine," Rick repeated patronizingly.

    Elaine gave a quick shake of the head.  "That just makes no sense."

    "What are you going on about?" Spike asked.

    "I know! It totally doesn't!" Buffy injected, wholeheartedly agreeing with her friend.

    "What are you bints blathering about?"

    "You being undead. It makes no sense.  It would be like being "un" pregnant. Either you are, or you aren't. And if you're not dead, you're alive," Elaine explained.

    "See... I know! That's what I've always thought! Doesn't anyone own a dictionary or anything?" Buffy commented dryly.

    "I don't know. It should be more 'half dead.'  Or 'sorta dead.'"

    "Yeah! Or... 'semi dead. Or.... partially dead!'"

    "You two are off your nut," Spike informed them disgustedly, not wanting to admit they had a point.  He and Rick exchanged glances, both rolling their eyes when their wives got up and went to the snack bar, still fully engrossed in discussing the virtues of proper labeling.

    "Hey, are you guys really married?" Rick suddenly asked.

    Spike was silent for just a moment before answering. "We have the rings on our fingers. We have the paperwork saying we are legally wed, but have we actually gone through a ceremony and exchanged vows? No."

    "Lucky bastard," Rick muttered.

    Spike let out a short bark of laughter at Rick's lighthearted comment.  "Yeah, well, don't really need a ceremony. Buffy belongs to me."

    Rick looked impressed. "Wow, she really lets you get away with saying that?"

    "Hell yeah, she does."

    "Elaine would kick my ass if I said she belonged to me," Rick replied dryly.

    Spike threw a smirk his way. "Things would be a little different if you were a vampire, Rickie, my boy." 

    Understanding dawned on Rick's face.  "Ah, I get it.  Pretty cool."

    "Yep."

+++++++++++++++

    The next few weeks passed by quickly.Things had settled down for both Spike and Buffy, which came as a relief. It still made Buffy slightly uncomfortable being stopped and given heartfelt thanks for doing what she had been chosen to do, but found she enjoyed getting to know people better. As a result, she felt like her roots were now further imbedded in this town, spreading and growing stronger with each person met. 

    Buffy's job at the ER hadn't suffered from the town's newfound revelations. It was business as usual; except now Buffy was occasionally called when extra security was needed. The town itself didn't generate a large need, but sometimes they would get patients from neighboring communities that didn't have the small town mentality and things would get out of hand. 

    Three weeks after the bar incident, Buffy came to work on a dark, dreary afternoon to the sound of ambulance sirens and utter chaos. A multiple vehicle accident on the highway just outside town was responsible and since they were the nearest receiving facility, several critical patients were brought in at once. 

    Being a hospital in a small town, trauma wasn't something that was seen on a daily basis and especially, not at the same time. Buffy knew that there were two ambulances that were always on duty, and who typically had more than enough free time to kill during their long 24 hours shifts. But today, both units had been dispatched along with two units responding from the nearest town.  

     From the moment she walked in, Buffy immediately went to work trying to call the appropriate doctors while multi-tasking at the same time. The ward clerk who usually took care of ordering tests and making phone calls had called in sick, shoving the emergency department into further pandemonium.

    One of the nurses stuck her head out of the trauma room and yelled for her to call a 'code blue', and Buffy immediately called the hospital operator, even though she knew all the available hospital personnel were already helping and not many more people would be showing up to assist the CPR.

    Working quickly, she stamped up the appropriate labwork, adding a blood alcohol level since she had already been informed that the person who was crashing had been the responsible party for the motor vehicle accident. Buffy had smelled the alcohol when she had passed by the room. 

    She had just hung up with the surgeon on-call when she realized something was setting off her vamp radar.

    So not what she needed, Buffy thought as she ignored the incoming phone calls.

     Those who were in the immediate vicinity watched as she went from competent-but frazzled-ER tech to something they couldn't quite describe in the blink of an eye, as she blatantly began disregarding their verbal orders and began looking around with a cold, calculating look.

    Buffy allowed her senses to try to pinpoint where the vampire was, but with the amount of people scurrying about, she was unable to pick it up. Reaching down to lift up one cuff of her scrub pants, Buffy plucked the stake out of the spot where she usually hid it.

    "What is it?" Jen, the nursing supervisor, asked worriedly after trying to get Buffy's attention and then seeing the look of cold predatory determination on her face.

    "There's a vampire in here," she stated simply, walking out from behind the desk and turning around in a slow circle, her eyes searching for the one who didn't belong.

    "Oh my god! What should we do?" Jen asked fearfully.

    "Nothing," Buffy answered distractedly.

    She felt it then, that familiar pull from the vicinity of the trauma room.

    Breaking into a run, she sprinted in that direction, whipping back the curtains, stake in a raised and ready position. Her eyes found the heart monitor, noting a semblance of a rhythm before inspecting the man, lying bloody and still, on the gurney. The smell of second-hand alcohol was thick and heavy from the well-dressed, twenty-something patient. 

    "Stop CPR," Buffy ordered.

    The doctor, who was covering Windmont's ER from another city and already infuriated by actually having to work on what was supposed to be an easy shift, was poised at the patient's head in preparation for intubation, did not take kindly to a lowly hospital employee telling him to wait on the breathing tube.  "Excuse me, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm the doctor here," he stated coldly.

    Buffy ignored him. "Stop doing compressions and back away," she told the respiratory therapist, who did not hesitate to comply. Judy, the RN who had already tried multiple times to start an IV, also complied without question once she saw the presence of the stake in Buffy's hands. They knew who Buffy was and weren't about to question her, especially once they saw the look on her face.

    The doctor's face mottled red with rage. "Oh, get the hell out of here! I'm the doctor, which means I run the code, got it? Respiratory, get back in there and start those compressions back up. And for Christ sake, keep bagging him. What the hell is the matter with you people?"

    Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, irritated by the high-handed attitude. "Nothing is wrong them. Check your patient out. He's all twitchy guy." She gestured to the jerking limbs of the man lying on the gurney.

    The doctor looked down at the man, then at the monitor, which showed a serious lack of activity. "Oh, for God sakes, why did I agree to work in this Podunk town. I must have been insane," he muttered angrily, walking around to check the leads that went to the cardiac monitor on the crash cart, not trusting any of the staff to do it correctly. They were all obviously incompetent. 

    "I totally wouldn't do that if were you,"  Buffy warned.

    Just as Buffy was about to get further backlash from the irate ER doctor, the eyes of his patient suddenly sprang open, quickly shifting to amber with teeth that sharpened to a fine point.

    Now conscious, drunk and thoroughly evil; the vampire reached up and grabbed the stethoscope looped around the physician's neck and attempted to pull him down to meet his waiting fangs.

    Buffy exchanged looks with Judy and the rest of the staff that were watching from the beyond the glass doors, barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at the shocked look on the doctor's face, who had not won many popularity points even before this mass-casualty incident. Stepping forward, Buffy clamped her hand around on the vampire's wrist, breaking his tenuous hold on the stethoscope.

    Now freed, the ER doctor scurried away, knocking over several IV poles in the process, which clattered noisily to the ground.

    Enraged that his easy meal had been disrupted, the vampire threw himself off the gurney, looking macabre and evil with the caliber of injuries sustained in the car crash, in addition to his natural demon countenance. "Well, lookee here.  A real do-gooder."

    "Boy, did you ever pick the wrong town to crash in," Buffy informed him, tense and prepared for an assault. The wait was not long, a sloppy attack due to the continued inebriated state of the vampire. Buffy sent him flying over the gurney, where he crashed into the wall with heavy force.

    "Who are you?" the vampire growled, attempting to regain his footing.

    "Sorry, where are my manners. Buffy, vampire Slayer. And you're... dust." It gave her a great feeling of satisfaction to hurl her stake across the room and through the chest that had been so carefully worked over to bring this shell of a man back to the life that had already been taken some time ago. Buffy watched impassively as the vampire crumbled into dust before looking at the crowd that had gathered in the hallway outside the trauma room doors.

    "Ok, mental note.  From now on, make sure CPR's actually need to be resuscitated," Buffy announced before turning her attention to the Emergency Department manager. "I'm thinking mirrors on the crash carts might not be such a bad idea."

    Her suggestion was given serious consideration, the entire ER shaken up at what could have just occurred if Buffy hadn't been on duty. Looking around, she saw the ER doc still huddled on the floor, looking completely shell-shocked. She walked over to him and helped him to his feet. 

    "What was that?" he asked shakily, trying to come up with a scientific explanation for what he had just witnessed.

    Buffy rolled her eyes, and walked away. "Long story." she called over her shoulder to the bewildered man. "And I'm terribly busy."

++++++++++

    Buffy had been concerned that the presence of another vampire in their town was a sign of things to come, but it seemed to be an isolated incident.  Another uneventful two weeks passed by. In Sunnydale, that would have been an ominous sign. One that would have had the Scoobies scurrying to their research books to try to get ahead of whatever apocalypse or big evil was sure to follow.

    But here in Windmont, peace and quiet was just par for the course. Spring was being anxiously awaited, the cold and snow becoming old and tiresome.

    It was another cold, bitter day that found Buffy baking cookies in her kitchen. Before Windmont, any attempts of the culinary persuasion always turned into disasters. But with perseverance-and a lot of time to kill-Buffy had managed to nail baking down. Chocolate chip cookies were her specialty, and Spike ate them by the dozens.

    She had just pulled a pan out of the oven and put it on top of the cooling rack, sticking another pan in the oven, when the doorbell rang. Yanking off her oven mitts, she hurried to the front door to open it before the bell was rung again. Spike was still sleeping, and she had come to learn that a sleepy Spike was a grumpy Spike.

    Not bothering to check to see who was at the other side of the door, Buffy threw it open, and found her face frozen in shock.

    Her mother and Giles were standing on her freshly shoveled porch.

    "Buffy! Oh my god, it's really you," her mother cried, throwing her arms around Buffy and clutching her tightly. "My baby!"

    The dazed look did not leave her face and Buffy stood stiffly in the embrace of her mother. Joyce didn't seem to notice as she pulled back, tears streaming down decidedly aged features. 

    "Buffy," her Watcher uttered quietly, his eyes glued on her. The relief was easily read on the Englishman's face, as he took in every detail of his missing Slayer. She had been gone for almost a year, and they had exhausted many resources in an attempt to locate her.

    "Come in," Buffy finally said, stepping to the side of the threshold so they could enter her home.

    Her sanctuary.

    "Is this your house?" her mom asked, trying to contain her tears and overloaded emotions. She looked around the small foyer, taking note of the cheery warmth, with just a slight amount of added clutter. It was so unlike the daughter she knew, it was startling.

    Buffy nodded curtly. "Yes, it is. But I'm assuming you already knew that, since you rang my doorbell." The hostility was just barely veiled.

    "Yes, well, I'm afraid that is all we had," Giles explained, as Buffy led them into the kitchen where she'd left her cookies. Giles watched as Buffy efficiently transferred them from the cookie sheet to the cooling rack, before taking the cookie sheet over to the sink and running water over it.

    Buffy's lips were tightly compressed as she worked to rein in her screaming emotions. 'NO!' she wanted to scream. 'Not here, not now! Go away!!' "What are you doing here?" she couldn't help the icy edge to her voice when she voiced her question.

    Her mother looked agonized, a new crop of tears flowing down her cheeks. "Oh, Buffy, I am so sorry. So sorry for whatever I did to make you think you had to leave like you did."

    Buffy just nodded; accepting her mother's words, but unable to give her the forgiveness she was looking for. 

    Giles sighed heavily, his haggard face falling even more. "Buffy, I realize something occurred that must have upset you tremendously, but I do not believe you know the lengths we have gone through to pinpoint your whereabouts. Our locator spells remained inconclusive, and it was just this most recent one that gave us a location. You have been missed, Buffy. Terribly."

    "You mean the Hellmouth has missed me."

    "Good lord, Buffy. You are more than just my Slayer..." Giles allowed the words to drop off, but Buffy couldn't deny the acute pain she witnessed in his eyes.

    "When I think of how difficult things must have been for you, how scared you probably were. Traveling alone... You have no idea how many nights it's kept me up," Joyce revealed, pain coming off of her in waves.

    Buffy sighed, wanting to keep up the indifference, but finding herself not up to the task. She had to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. "I... wasn't alone."

    Joyce exchanged looks with Giles, then pasted on a bright smile. "Oh, well, that is wonderful. You met someone."  Buffy's mother looked around, and finally noticed the hints of a masculine influence; the cigarettes on the counter, the ashtray, empty bottles of beer in the recycling bin, a pair of black boots haphazardly shoved under one of the kitchen chairs, obviously too big for Buffy. The signs were there. Buffy was not alone.

    Unexpectedly, a voice drawled, "Well now, didn't know we were expectin' company."

    Giles spun around in his seat, his brain rapidly attempting to come to terms with just who was leaning so casually against the door jam that led into Buffy's kitchen.  Although he'd never seen the bleached blonde hair in such curly disarray, nor had ever seen him without the black leather duster he wore like a death shroud, yet there was no denying just who this was. Clad only in a pair of jeans, the skin that was on display was too pale, too marble-esque to be human.  

    "Spike," Giles ground out, easing out of his chair to put himself between the vampire and Joyce.

    "Watcher," Spike replied, his lips curled up in a smirk. "Joyce," he added, tipping his head in her direction.

    Buffy's mother looked with startled confusion at the bare-chested man in her daughter's kitchen, recognition dawning slowly. Yes, she knew him. This was a vampire. The vampire from her living room that fateful last night that she had seen her daughter. Joyce looked over at Buffy and found her only child smiling fondly in the demon's direction.

    The tension in the room was thick, almost pulsing with life. Spike could easily have killed to protect his newfound happiness with Buffy, yet knew that wasn't possible. With practiced nonchalance, he sauntered over to snatch a cookie off the cooling rack, studiously ignoring the unwanted presence of Buffy's watcher and her mum.

    "Hey!" Buffy yelled, overreacting by slapping at the thieving hand with the plastic spatula she grabbed off the counter. "Back off! Those are for tonight."

    Spike jerked his hand back, nursing it against his chest before taking a bite of the cookie he had pilfered.  "Bloody hell, watch the violence."

    She arched an eyebrow at his outlandish statement, than gave him a soft smile.  Now that he was there at her side, she could feel her tension fleeing. She could so do this. They could do this. Buffy leaned into Spike's side, taking comfort in his close proximity.  

    Giles ripped his glasses off in a fit of agitation. He exchanged glances with Joyce, whose look of uncertainty rivaled his own. The urge to lash out at his young charge was overwhelming for her flagrant lack of common sense, but Giles knew he had to tread lightly here.

    "So... Buffy," Giles began, placing his glasses back on his face. "You're here with... Spike?"

    Giles saw Buffy's chin come up, her face tightening with resolve, while she exchanged looks with the vampire.

    "Yes, Giles. I am here with Spike."

    Giles watched as Spike's lip curled contemptuously, and once again wished he'd had the foresight to bring a stake.  "Yes, well..."

    "Why did you come?" Buffy asked her Watcher, interrupting the forthcoming tirade.

    Surprise snuck up on the older man's face. "Why, to bring you home, of course."

    Spike and Buffy exchanged amused looks.  "Giles, I am home."  Buffy sent her mom an apologetic look when hurt settled on her face.

    tbc...

Chapter 6

Dreams and Desotos

    Surprise snuck up on the older man's face. "Why, to bring you home, of course."

    Spike and Buffy exchanged amused looks.  "Giles, I am home."  Buffy sent her mom an apologetic look as hurt settled over her face.

    Giles looked at her with something akin to disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking. This was home? Any response he might have made was postponed by the creaking sound of the front door opening. 

    "Hey! Where are you guys?" a loud voice called out.

    Relief filled Buffy at the unexpected, yet well-timed, interruption.  Anything to escape this old, familiar feeling of having to justify herself yet again. "We're in the kitchen," she called out, ignoring the looks her mom and Giles were sending her way.

    Elaine paused with dramatic flourish just outside the wide kitchen entryway, breaking out into a wide, leering grin when she saw Spike leaning against the kitchen island.  "Ooh yeah..., I see I got here just in time," Elaine drawled, allowing her eyes to run over Spike's muscular chest appreciatively. "Very nice... very nice, indeed."   Elaine looked at Buffy and winked, then took a closer look at her friend, noting the unfamiliar tension that Buffy was exuding.  Something was definitely wrong.  

    "So, that's why you wanted to come early?" Rick grumbled good-naturedly, coming up behind his wife and taking her in his arms. 

    "Of course," Elaine replied airily, leaning into his embrace. "It's not every day a girl gets to see sexy vampires without their shirts on, you know."

    Spike merely rolled his eyes, per usual, and played along. "Your wife bloody well scares me, Rickie."

    "Yeah, she scares me too," Rick replied, stepping around Elaine and walking into the kitchen. "I should have figured something was up when she rushed me out of the house- " His voice trailed off as he noticed the strangers seated awkwardly around the kitchen table. "Oh, sorry. We didn't know you had company."

    Elaine walked into the kitchen and saw the middle-aged man and woman perched at the table, and threw Buffy a questioning look. She could read the panic and anguish in her friend's eyes, and it wasn't a far leap to realize this was someone from her past. Elaine walked over and gave Buffy a welcoming hug, whispering in her ear, "Do you want us to stay or go?"

    Buffy clutched at her friend like the lifeline she was. "Oh god, please stay," she whispered back, her voice stressed. She looked over at her mom and Giles, who were staring at her friends with curiosity and barely veiled irritation. "Uh, Mom, Giles. These are our friends, Elaine and Rick," Buffy introduced awkwardly. "Giles is... was, my Watcher."  Giles started visibly at the introduction, realizing this pair was aware of Buffy's Slayer status.

    Elaine put on the false, bright, smile that she usually kept reserved for annoying customers, and crossed the room to shake hands. "It's so nice to meet you both!" she gushed. Turning to Joyce, she added, "And  I just have to say, I love your daughter to death. She's absolutely the best friend I've ever had. The day she moved here was probably the best day of my life."  At the pained look her husband threw her, Elaine giggled. "Besides every day with you, sweetie." She blew him a quick kiss in apology.

    Joyce smiled weakly, not replying, as she watched the loud blonde begin an airy conversation with her daughter, completely excluding the other occupants of the room. Then she realized it was being done intentionally.

    Buffy looked up at Spike, who had thus far, managed to hold his tongue remarkably well. "You better go get ready," she informed him.

    He looked at her in surprise. "We still going?"

    "I didn't make all these cookies for nothing."

    Spike gave her an appreciative smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips. "If they get out of hand, just sic Elaine on 'em," he whispered in her ear, before drawing away and leaving the kitchen. He paused to inform Rick of the presence of beer in the fridge.

    Rick walked over to their refrigerator and helped himself to a beer, before taking one of the empty seats at the kitchen table. The atmosphere in the kitchen had grown tense. Buffy offered beverages to her guests, and her mom commented how strange it was for her daughter to play hostess.

    "So, does it always snow like this?" Joyce inquired, desperate to quell the uncomfortable silence.

    "Yeah, pretty much. It took a while to get used to it, that's for sure. You know, total California girl, and all," Buffy replied getting back to her cookies, scooping more balls of dough on the sheet.

    "Uh, how long have you been here?" her mother asked, desperate to fill in the blanks that her daughter's absence had created.

    "Almost a year, I think it's been."

     Deeming this whole situation unacceptable, Giles turned to Elaine.  "I hope you don't mind my asking, er, Elaine, but I heard you refer to... Spike as a vampire."

    Elaine heard the hostility in the crisp, British voice at the reference to her friend, and bristled. "Yes, I did."

    Giles stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate, then realized that was the end of her sentence. "Yes, well," he began, finding himself growing increasingly aggravated, "then you are aware of that fact?"

    "Isn't that what I just said?"  Elaine replied in a confused voice, eyes purposely wide, causing Buffy to have to bite her lip to hold back a snicker as she stood at the kitchen island, transferring another batch of cookies onto the cooling rack.

    "So, you don't mind that he's a vampire?" Joyce found herself asking, curious to hear their reaction.

    Elaine exchanged looks with Rick, who was absently flicking through one of Spike's magazines. "Mind?" Rick asked neutrally.

    "It... that is... it doesn't bother you?" Giles asked, his agitation escalating, completely missing the black look Buffy threw his way.

    Rick slapped the magazine closed and leaned back in his chair. "Look. Spike and Buffy are our best friends, ok? Yes, we know Spike is a vampire. Yes, we know Buffy is a vampire slayer. Does it matter? No." 

   Giles mind was ready to explode with the implications these two had just made.  He stared intently at Buffy's alleged friends, seeing if perhaps his first opinion was completely off.  By all appearances, they seemed to be a typical middle class couple. The woman, Elaine, was a bit overdone and loud for Giles's taste, but they certainly seemed normal enough.  Spike must have worked some serious mojo to make these two so oblivious to the danger he presented, yet had so easily befriended. 

     Ripping his glasses off once more, he turned in his seat to look at Buffy, desperate to make her see how dangerous this was. "Surely you can see that something is very wrong here. Good Lord, you are the Slayer, and yet, you are harboring a known killer in this town.  I'm quite sure there have been a rash of unexplained deaths or injuries since you've been here. How can you be so blind? You are being completely irresponsible."

    Joyce shot Rupert a look of dismay; this wasn't the way they had agreed to handle things. Yet, apparently Rupert felt the need for accusations. Joyce knew from experience that this was the absolute wrong way to approach Buffy, and could only hope Rupert knew what he was doing.

    Buffy's reaction was much as Joyce had feared. Even their unexpected arrival hadn't dimmed the happiness and peace Joyce could see surrounding her daughter. However, Rupert's words managed to do just that, leaving a chilly replica in her place.  

    Buffy drew herself up slowly, feeling every muscle tighten in response to the harsh, unfounded, accusation. Poised, she quietly replied, "I don't expect you to take my word for it, or even the word of our friends.  If you feel the need to investigate these things for yourself, I encourage you to do so."

    Giles held the determined gaze of his Slayer who seemed so different from the girl he had last seen, and found himself nodding his head.  "Very well.  I believe it is my duty to pursue this avenue. Perhaps you could point me in the direction of the library?"

    Joyce gaped at him, incredulous he was leaving so soon after finally locating Buffy. All she wanted to do was sweep her daughter into her arms, and beg for her forgiveness.  Joyce was beginning to see the reason behind Buffy's desperate need for escape; the Council had been her shadow this past year. Even now, their intrusion was enormous.

    "You're kidding, right?" Joyce heard Buffy's friend, Elaine, ask.

    "I beg your pardon?" Giles asked haughtily.

    Elaine exchanged looks with Buffy, and saw nothing in her face that gave her a red light.  "I mean, the whole 'point me in the direction of the library' thing."

    Buffy could see Giles getting his little British feather ruffled, and was suddenly very tired.  She so didn't need this. Deciding to be kind to Giles, and not let Elaine get a hold of him, Buffy interrupted, "Giles, the library is closed. Just... come with us tonight, and you can talk to whoever you want, ok?"

    "You're going someplace?" Giles sounded outraged.

    "Yes, we are going someplace." Buffy replied in a steely tone.

    "Well, I would think that you could cancel whatever plans you have..." Giles began to say, only to be interrupted by Buffy mother.

    "Rupert," she said sharply. "If Buffy has plans, she has plans." Joyce looked at her daughter. "I'm sorry we just barged in on you, Buffy," she apologized, pleased to note when some of the previous contentment re-entered Buffy's eyes.

    Buffy allowed her body to relax a fraction. "It's ok. No big." She smiled hesitantly at her mom, feeling a surge of guilt at the profound happiness that surfaced on her mom's face at the hesitant gesture.

    Spike swooped back into the kitchen at that moment, wearing his usual bowling outfit.  He'd heard every word the Watcher had said, and was fighting the urge to cause the git a great deal of pain. But for Buffy's sake, he knew he had to play nice. She was taking the last batch of cookies out of the oven, and he went to stand by her.

    "Why don't you go get ready, luv?" he suggested softly, his eyes searching hers. He could see the pain swimming in her eyes, and drew her into his arms, holding her for just a moment. Spike could practically feel the contempt burning into him from the Watcher, and had to steel himself not to react. There was no way he was going to give the man the satisfaction of acting true to stereotype.

    "So, where are you going?" Joyce asked, watching the tender way Spike held her daughter.

    "It's bowling night," Elaine announced.

    "You bowl?" Giles asked incredulously.

    "Yeah, and they're damn good at it, too," Elaine commented.

    "Spike bowls as well?" Giles inquired, a confused look marring his face.

    "Yes, Spike bloody well does," Spike retorted, turning Buffy around and giving her a slight shove towards the entryway.  He had just looked at the clock and realized that they were starting to cut it close.

    A half hour later, Buffy and Spike walked hand in hand into the bowling alley. However, this time, it was not with the usual carefree abandonment they usually presented.  Even if it wasn't for the presence of the strangers shadowing behind them, the change was immediately noticeable.

    "Hey! It's Fanged Lightening!" one of the men called out in greeting, causing Spike to snort. The usual rounds of hugs and hand shaking commenced, with Rick and Spike heading for the bar soon thereafter.  Buffy was almost worried Spike wouldn't come back, but knew he wouldn't desert her like that.

    The bowling alley was crowded, and the faces were all familiar ones to the regulars.  Giles found himself looking around in stunned shock. He had never set foot in a bowling alley in his life, and now he knew why.  The idea of renting shoes that had been on someone else's feet was appalling, making him visibly nauseous. 

    It hadn't escaped his notice how his slayer and... Spike, seemed to be acquainted with everyone present. They were a loud group, and so far, no introductions had been made.  Although to be fair, they weren't exactly there as esteemed guests. 

    Buffy had shown he and Joyce to a little table, than had gone off with her crass friend somewhere. Giles met Joyce's eyes, and saw the curiosity lurking there as she looked around.

    "I have to say, of all the scenarios I imagined where we'd find Buffy, something like this was never even a consideration," Joyce admitted.

    Giles had to admit to the same thing.  "I rather thought we'd find her working in an out-of-sorts diner somewhere."

    Suddenly, a drink was banged down on the table in front of him. Scotch. Giles looked up and saw Spike standing above him. In his capable hands was a tray laden with several different pitchers.  "Just call me the soddin' barmaid, Joyce. Beer or diet coke?"

    When Joyce was unable to do anything but stare stupidly in his direction, he arched a scarred dark brow.

    Joyce finally found her voice. "Uh... beer." Spike  nodded, and set down one of the empty mugs on the table. He poured it full from the pitcher, placing it front of her. With a sly wink in her direction, he deftly picked the tray back up and strode over to the group of people that were clustered around the middle lanes. They watched as he put it down on one of the tables, and called out that the bar was open. 

    "Do you think they know? What he is, I mean?" Joyce asked, her curiosity more than piqued. 

    Finding himself flustered, Giles sputtered, "I should say not."

    Joyce saw Buffy heading towards them, her friend finally gone from her side.  She was more than aware of the curious looks that were being sent in their direction, and wondered how Buffy was going to introduce them.

    Before Buffy could get to the table, Joyce saw her engulfed in an enthusiastic hug from a distinguished-looking older gentleman.  She saw her daughter's face light up as they exchanged pleasantries, then Buffy grabbed his arm, remarking, "You are so the man I was hoping to see here tonight. Do you have a few minutes?"  Joyce heard the man assure Buffy that he would do anything for her, then her daughter closed the short distance to the table, bringing the man over to be introduced.

    "I wanted you to meet my mom and... an old friend of the family, Rupert Giles," Buffy announced, as Giles got to his feet, extending his hand out. His hand was clasped with a sure grip, as the two men sized each other up.

    "When I'm not 'mom,' I'm Joyce." Buffy's mom said teasingly, earning a round of laughter from the newcomer.

    Buffy rolled her eyes slightly, before saying, "This is Dr. Adler. He's the Director of our Emergency Room." She pinned her stare on Giles, then turned to the doctor. "Our friend here, Mr. Giles, was curious about some things in our town, and I thought maybe you could help enlighten him a little?"

    Giles felt very much put on the spot, but nodded encouragingly when the ER director assured him that he'd help in anyway he could. He and Buffy sank down into the two empty chairs, both looking at their watches in sync, realizing they had a few minutes before their games began.

    "So, what can I help you with?" Dr. Adler inquired, curious to finally met any of Buffy's family.

    "Well, I do quite a bit of research, you could say," Giles began, unsure how to phrase it without seeming obvious. "And I was just wondering if there was any trend of accidents recently, that fit a peculiar... profile? Perhaps injuries not easily explained?"

    Dr. Adler gave Giles an odd look, then tipped his head in Buffy's direction. "Why didn't you just ask Buffy?"  At the confused looks that met that remark, it didn't take much to figure out that these were some of the people that Spike and Buffy didn't want coming to look for them. "No, I can honestly say there have been no unexplained injuries lately."

    Giles tipped his head in response. "I see. You wouldn't happen to know if there have been any increase in missing persons, would you? I know it seems like an odd question, but it correlates with my research, you see."

    Dr. Adler gave a wry smile, keeping his gaze locked on the man in front of him. "Look, if you're trying to subtly find out if Spike is slowly offing the town, the answer to that is no. I'm surprised Buffy didn't tell you that." He looked over at her and caught the look on her face, actually laughing in response. "Ah, I see you tried."

    Giles finally comprehended what it was this doctor had said. "So... you know about what Spike is?" he asked in shock, his contempt palpable.

    Dr. Adler nodded, then turned to shoo Buffy away. If he was the one who had to tell the story, he didn't want her sitting there listening. When Buffy had finally left, rejoining Spike and Elaine, Dr Adler turned back to Joyce and the family friend, and his face turned serious.

    "There is just one thing you should be aware of before I tell you my piece. This town thinks pretty highly of your daughter and her husband..."

    "Husband?!" Giles uttered disapprovingly.

    Dr. Adler's face hardened. "Yes, husband. I reviewed her job application myself, and that is how she listed him. Husband. Spouse. At work, she refers to him as her husband. I think that is clear enough, don't you?"

    "You work with Buffy?" Joyce asked in confusion.

    Dr. Adler heaved a pained sigh and realized he'd probably be missing a few games tonight. "Yes, she works in the ER. She's our best ER tech."

    He noticed her mother looked oddly proud, while the 'family friend' had a tight look on his face. "Anyway, as I was saying,  Spike and Buffy are well thought of here. Whatever problem you have, I suggest you keep it to yourself."

    "This is ludicrous!" Giles muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "He's worked the whole town."

    Dr. Adler leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.  "I take it you don't care too much for Spike?"

    "I should say not! He's a cold blooded killer," Giles sputtered.

    "I don't know about his past before he came here, and quite frankly, I have no desire to. All I can tell you is this-the Spike we've had the pleasure of knowing this past year is a good man."

    Joyce took a moment to study her daughter and Spike  mingling with their friends, their arms looped easily around the other.  It was clear they cared for each other, even Giles wouldn't be able to deny that.  Joyce was trying to differentiate this carefree, joking man with the morose, intense vampire that had stood in her living room so long ago.  There was little similarity left. 

    "How did you find out he was a vampire?" Joyce found herself asking.

    Dr. Adler's face grew animated. "Well, I found out with about half the town," he replied. At their questioning look, he continued, "It's a bit of a long story, and I'd really appreciate no interruptions, if you don't mind."

    Giles took the hint, and nodded, bringing the drink that Spike had brought him to his lips, as he listened to this man's story.

    "It was an occurrence at Larry's Bar." Dr Adler paused to take a sip of his beer. "Buffy's birthday, actually. A gang of bikers blew into town. Turns out they weren't your ordinary bikers. We kind of figured that one out when they locked all the doors and grew fangs."  He paused to appreciate the shocked looks he was receiving. "So, everybody in the place pretty much froze, too horrified to move, and the bartender was just about to get eaten..." he paused once more for dramatic effect, "When  suddenly Spike walks up to the leader and tells him to shove off, told him that this was HIS town. The leader just laughed a bit, then leaned down to bite Gary and damned if Spike didn't grow his own set of fangs. He rescued Gary, told the leader that we were his people, then Buffy jumped in and I got a lesson on the post mortem disintegration of vampires."

    Dr. Adler took another sip of beer, then looked meaningfully at Giles. "So, like I said, this town is pretty protective of those two."

    Giles felt like his mind was running on two separate levels; one where he wanted to believe in the Spike that this town did, while the other screamed at him that vampires do not change. That their evil is inherent and as immortal as they are themselves.

    He quite honestly didn't know what to think.

 tbc...

  Thanks to Maidenro and Beanmommy for guidance on this chapter.

Chapter 7

    Joyce continued to watch Buffy from afar as a new level of respect for her daughter washed over her. Buffy was not acting like the "rebellious teenage fugitive in hiding" that Joyce had so often imagined. Neither was she acting like the broken lamb Joyce feared she'd find.  Rather, she was acting in a very adult manner, and it was clearly obvious that this small, close knit town was now her home.

    If only Rupert would realize that. Joyce was jarred from her silent musings to hear Giles questioning the physician that worked with Buffy.  He was apparently sacrificing his bowling time in an effort to make her and Rupert  realize a few basics facts about the lives that Spike and Buffy now led.  Joyce was beyond horrified to hear the hostile tone that Rupert was using to question the doctor. The watcher's back was rigid in his seat, and his features were grimly set as he bit out his questions in a clipped manner.

    Joyce had to hand it to Dr. Adler; he was holding his patience and composure rather well. She listened in growing horror as Rupert began bringing up Spike's past atrocities, embellishing one hundred plus years of the murder and mayhem the vampire had committed,  and watched as the ER doctor's face began to close off. Enough was apparently enough.

    "Rupert." Her voice was short and forceful.

    Giles stopped mid-sentence, and looked at Buffy's mother in a questioning manner. "That is more than enough," Joyce chastised, throwing Dr. Adler an apologetic look.

    "Really Joyce, I think it is only fair that this town is made aware of what exactly they have let roam amongst them."  

    "The town has seen what is amongst them, Rupert," Joyce pointed out.

    "Look, I sat here and let you ramble on and do you know why I did that?" Dr Adler cut in. " I did it for Spike and Buffy. We know what Spike is. And while he may not be the first one picked for babysitting duties, the majority of this town trusts him, myself included. As you can see, the town has kept the secret pretty well. There hasn't been a rush of trashy magazines like the National Enquirer storming our town to do a story on the 'Vampire Who Saves Town from Vampire Bikers."  Dr. Adler made sarcastic use of air quotes as he mentioned the fictitious title, while pinning a harsh look on Giles. "So I suggest you drop the attitude. I can guarantee it will not be tolerated here. By anyone."

    With that ultimatum, Dr. Adler pushed himself to his feet, and with one last warning look, strode confidently over to the lanes his team was using.

    "Well, I never..." Giles began to sputter.

    "He's right, Rupert. Knock it off."

    "Really, Joyce, you have no idea what Spike is capable of, regardless of how much he appears to have restrained himself. His inherent nature is evil, never forget that. He is, and always will be, a demon."

    "Look, you said it yourself, we need information from Buffy. But you're doing such a fabulous job of getting her upset, she's not going to want to talk to either one of us," Joyce felt compelled to point out.

    "I'm just doing what is necessary."

    "Oh, stop sounding like a damn watcher for a moment, will you? I've had about enough of your organization to last me a lifetime." Joyce pushed herself angrily to her feet. "Buffy is what is necessary. That's my little girl, in case you have forgotten. She's happy here, Rupert."

    "Yes, well, be that as it may, things will change soon enough. She is the chosen one, after all."

    Joyce looked at him in growing disbelief. "I cannot believe you. All that time, I thought you had her best interest at heart. Do you have any idea what this last year has been like for me, Rupert?  How many nightmares I've had that my little girl is scared and hurt and crying out for me, but I'm not there? I was so frightened we were going to find her broken, shattered into tiny pieces. Instead, I find her like that." She gestured behind her, where Buffy was laughing at something Rick had apparently said, her arm easily curled around Spike's waist, the vampire watching her daughter with reverence and Joyce felt her throat tighten.

     "I find my little girl happy. And you know what? I feel like I've been given a precious gift. You and your damn Council chased my little girl away a year ago, but it didn't break her. But what are you doing now? You're trying to accomplish just that, Rupert. And this time, I will not stand for it, do you hear me???"  Her nostrils flared in the heat of her self-righteous anger as she stared down at the man who was in league with those who had caused Buffy so much pain. Her anger slightly misplaced, but it well directed at this particular moment.

     Giles felt his resolve give way, and his body went lax. "I... I'm sorry, Joyce. I don't quite know what to say.  You... you are right. I suppose I have been remiss in looking at this the way I should." His head bowed.  "I believe I've been holding on to some issues of anger and betrayal that haven't been very easy for me to let go." Giles looked around. "The very fact that we are discussing this in a bowling alley is quite deplorable, wouldn't you say?"

    "Well, beggars can't be choosers, I've come to learn," Joyce announced, determined to hang on to her anger. Turning her back on Giles, she strode across the floor in the direction of where her daughter was now seated.  It pained her to see her daughter tense with apprehension as her approach was noted, but Joyce managed to plaster a pleasant smile on her face, nonetheless.

    "Can I sit?"

    Buffy's face relaxed and a genuine smile emerged. She gestured to the empty chair next to her, and watched with a small amount of trepidation as her mom took a seat.

    "Can I get you another beer, Joyce?" Spike asked, reaching behind him to grab a full pitcher and an empty glass.

    "Thank you, Spike." Joyce took the proffered mug and took a sip, welcoming the bitter brew. This vampire was evil? He had better manners than her own offspring. "I'd go get my other mug, but to be honest, Rupert is being kind of an ass."

    Spike's snorted derisively. "You got that right."  Joyce gave him a questioning look. "Vampire hearing," he explained.

    "Ah." Joyce was aware of the numerous stares being sent her way, and wondered what had been said in explanation of their sudden appearance in Windmont. Spike, however, took care of that.

    Setting his beer aside, he lumbered to his feet and pulled Joyce to hers. "Eh, listen up, all you wankers and wallflowers. Got an introduction to make. We got Buffy's mum with us. Meet Joyce."

    For the first time in as long as she could remember, Joyce found herself nervous. It wasn't just the semi-hostile and curious stares that were now directed solely on her, it was the pending reaction of her daughter that caused a rush of panic to surface. Again she marveled at the fact that this vampire possessed something in the way of manners, and when she felt Spike's arm hook around her shoulders in a friendly manner, Joyce found herself relaxing slightly. She was having a hard time remembering that he was supposed to be evil.

    "Now, the first time I met Joyce here, she clocked me but good on the head with the business end of an axe," Spike announced. "Not sure what her problem was, really. Just because I was trying to kill her daughter and all. Been meaning to say thanks for saving the day there, Joyce."

    There was a spattering of laughter at that, but protective as always, their friends were far from convinced, having taken note of Buffy's tension that evening. 

    Buffy got to her feet, rolling her eyes. "Please. If she hadn't hit you, I still would have kicked your ass."

    "If you need to keep thinking that way, by all means, go ahead. Joyce and I know the truth." A wink was sent in Joyce's direction.

    Buffy looked at her mom standing there with Spike's protective arm around her, and a flood of emotion suddenly rushed through her. Emotion that she had tried valiantly to ignore since her mom's unexpected arrival. "Mom," she choked out, suddenly throwing her arms around her. "You're really here. As in REALLY here."

    Tears began to fall from both the Summers women's cheeks as they clutched each other, leaving Spike to take a step back, with his patented look of disgust present. "Eh. If you're going to do the sniveling girlie thing, take it elsewhere, will ya?  Makes me want to heave."

    Buffy pulled away from her mom and sent Spike a grateful look, knowing he had acted in such a manner to ease the rising emotions and smooth Joyce's path back into Buffy's life. He was always pretty insightful.

    Buffy turned to face her friends, a genuine smile brightening her features. "Guys, this is... my mom!"

    In a matter of moments, Joyce found herself introduced to dozens of people, as the protective attitude of the assembled group faded away and their usual friendly manner took hold. She was told over and over again how wonderful her daughter was. Buffy's friend, Elaine, finally warmed up and gave her a tight hug, thanking her for giving birth to such an "awesome chick."

    Deciding he had put up with enough feel-good emotions, Spike finally called out, "Eh people, we're here to bowl, remember?"

    Taking the hint, people finally wandered back to their lanes, leaving Joyce alone with Buffy's bowling team, consisting of Spike, Elaine and Rick.

    Spike turned to look at her, a challenging gleam in his eye. "So, Joyce. You bowl?"

    +++++++++

    Multiple attempts to get Giles to join them in bowling had failed. He had been determined to sulk in the bar, his British snobbery shining through, as he looked down his nose at the slightly worn atmosphere of the bowling alley. Joyce finally gave up trying to deal with his behavior, knowing that the Englishman was doing irreparable damage to his relationship with Buffy, and oddly, not caring very much.

    To her surprise, Joyce found herself enjoying her time at the bowling alley, once she gotten over her initial apprehension.  It was odd being with her daughter in a situation different from her traditional  role as the parent; and Buffy, as the child. Her daughter had grown up in the time since she had left, and Joyce found herself regretting that she had missed seeing her daughter grow into a mature, young woman. She pushed aside that negative thought, determined to make up for lost time. 
 

    Buffy and Joyce's newfound states of contentment fled the moment they arrived at Buffy's home. The short trip from the bowling alley had been worry-free, having been filled with easy conversation about bowling, their league, and the personal stats of some of their friends, as Joyce felt the pressing urge to learn all she could about this place Buffy now called home. Giles had remained incommunicative, and there had been no attempt made to draw him out on the quick drive.

    After Buffy had stored her and Spike's bowling bags in the hall closet, she turned to her mother and Giles. "Um, I need to get the guest rooms ready."

    "I am quite sure there is a serviceable hotel near by. We'll be fine if you could just put us on the proper route." Giles replied primly, ignoring the warning growl from Spike's direction.

    Joyce looked at him with irritation. "I'm staying here, Rupert. It's already been discussed."

    "I believe I should have a say in this matter."

    "Well, maybe if you would have heaved your bloody arse out of the bar, you would have been consulted,"  Spike bit out, storming into the kitchen. He was holding onto his demon with everything he had, the urge to rip into Giles so overwhelming, it was almost painful.  He hadn't felt rage like this in a long time, and was in desperate need of a distraction.

     "Hey Buffy, can I eat these left-over cookies?" Spike called out to Buffy, his hand already reaching for the plastic wrap that covered the tub of cookies.

    "Just don't eat them all, save a few for me," Buffy answered, picking up on the agitated tone in Spike's voice. Suddenly, she was exhausted. Looking at Giles, she asked, "So, where are you going to stay?"

TBC...

 Dreams and Desotos

Chapter 8

    Giles simply studied her for a long, silent moment. His eyes reflected disappointment and disillusionment as he regarded her, and he wondered once more what had gotten into his Slayer. How could he have guided her in such misdirection?

     His instincts were telling him that to sleep under the same roof with this notorious vampire would most likely be the last mistake he would ever be alive to make, and he was quite confident that his instincts were correct.

    However, when Giles sent a probing look in Joyce's direction, her opinion on the matter was etched firmly on her face. There was little doubt that the woman found nothing wrong with sharing lodgings with a demon who was responsible for the murder of thousands. Discovering that Joyce had been lulled into a sense of false security in the same fashion as the townspeople had, did not come as much surprise to him. 

    Giles sighed heavily. He had almost succumbed to the same fanciful disillusionment as well. He couldn't quite fault Joyce for being so easily misled. This was her daughter, after all.  Between Spike's impressive acting job, the entire town's apparent tolerance of his true nature, and having a respected medical professional giving the vampire validation... well, one would be hard pressed to remain a cynic after that. Giles had found himself wavering, almost allowing himself a small bit of consideration to be given. A slight willingness to offer Spike the... benefit of doubt. A minute leaning in the direction that perhaps his slayer hadn't completely given herself  to a... monster, but someone who was deserving.

    But fortunately he had come to his senses in time.  

    Giles was also aware they needed a certain level of cooperation and information from Buffy, so he came to the conclusion it was best to buck up and at least make an effort to make amends. Even if that meant he was sacrificing his life. It was a Watcher code of duty, after all.

    Allowing his lips to curl up in a grim mockery of a smile, Giles managed to respond politely, "If it's not too much trouble, your hospitality would be greatly appreciated."

    A loud, rude snort was heard from the kitchen, which Giles chose to ignore.  It didn't escape his notice, however, Buffy's answering grin and giggle.   Apparently, the deplorable manners were rubbing off on her, which came as no surprise to Giles.

    "I'll just go, and get those rooms ready for you," Buffy announced, wanting to escape her Watcher's disapproving eyes. She headed for the stairs, with Joyce following behind to lend assistance and be further reunited with her daughter.  There were two extra rooms on the second level, both set up to accommodate guests.  Aside from the few times when Rick and Elaine had opted to stay over rather than risk driving home under the influence after a few of their more alcoholic get-togethers, they had been pretty much unused.

    After the two Summers women had disappeared up the stairs, Giles helped himself to a brandy from the picturesque antique sidebar. He took a greedy sip, sighing in appreciation as the familiar burn of the alcohol went to work in his system. The past year had been hell, no doubt of that. Alcohol had been a habitual companion during the long evenings, and Giles saw no point in stopping now.

   Distracted, he turned around with every intentions of waiting on the couch for Buffy's reemergence.  He was tired, and wished nothing more than to go to sleep, but the need to gather the information he required was pressing. The Council had been sniffing around and Giles knew it was only a matter of time before they garnered onto the truth. 

    Deep in his own commiserations of his unduly hard charge in life, he failed to notice the vampire who had stealthily appeared behind him, catching him by surprise as Giles turned around. An instinctive startled jerk of his limbs caused precious brandy to slosh from the rim of the glass held tightly in his hand, and Giles held nothing back while delivering a withering glare to the person responsible of such waste. When he caught sight of the cruel, dangerous look creeping onto Spike's face, his glare turned wary.

     "Well, well.  Guess it's just you and me, eh, Watcher?"  The voice alone sent tendrils of fear through Giles. The promise of evil and pain could be heard in the low, mocking tones. 

    Giles took a step back, desperate to put some distance between himself and the homicidal look on Spike's face. His immediate escape was halted by the side bar he had just been admiring, causing a flash of fear to strike him.

      "Spike, I really don't think Buffy would be happy if any harm came to me." Giles tried to sound authoritative, but knew his voice carried a hint of fear.

    The cruel grin turned mocking and sinister. "Well, see... that's where I disagree, mate."  Spike heard the telltale pounding of the watcher's heart, and the familiar delicious smell of fright curled enticingly through the air. Wanting to add to the man's panic, he allowed his facial bones to shift and brought his demon forward.

    Giles looked into the savage, mocking yellow eyes of this vampire, and saw his life flash before his eyes. The fact that his suspicions were proven correct in such an ironically fatal manner did not pass him by. He opened his mouth to call for Buffy, hoping that she would be able to do the right thing in this situation. That she would choose her life's destiny over her hormones for once, when a set of unyielding fingers were suddenly wrapped around his throat, making speech an impossibility.  

    Spike kept an unwavering stare on the man in his grasp, fighting the urge to bury his teeth into the aging flesh, tearing him apart until the blood stopped flowing, and the sanctimonious words would never again be spilled from those pompous lips. Hate didn't even begin to cover what he felt for this man.

     But... he wouldn't. For Buffy's sake. Hell, who was he kidding. For his sake too. He had too much at stake here.

    Didn't mean he didn't want to.

    Easing his grip just a fraction, Spike leaned in close. The Watcher had him in height, but now he just seemed a shriveled shell of his pretentious self; eyes resolute with fear, and oddly, acceptance.

    "Listen up, you git. Only going to say this once. If it was up to me, I'd have killed you the moment you walked through my door." Spike saw the slight spark of anger flare up in the other man's eyes. "Yeah, that's right. My door.  This is my home. Mine and Buffy's. The only reason your heart is still beating is because of your slayer, and I'm not about to let you hurt my girl." When he saw disgust and rage light up in Giles eyes, a low warning growl sounded in Spike's throat.

    "Yeah, she's mine, Watcher.  And as I said, I'm not about to let anything, or anyone get in the way of her happiness, understand?"

    A lack of response prompted another growl, and Spike's hand instinctively tightened around the man's throat. The rapid mottling of his face and bulging eyeballs clued Spike in that perhaps he was taking things too far, and he threw Giles away from him in disgust.

    Spike watched impassively as Giles drew greedy painful breaths into oxygen starved lungs, his coloring returning to normal before he turned and resumed his usual uptight posture.

    "You don't deserve her," he bit out in a clipped, slightly hoarse voice. The words the vampire had just spoken to him had infuriated him, and the worst part was the fact he had been completely at Spike's mercy. "You are a monster." The words slid out before Giles could contain them, knowing that he was choosing a very unwise time to share them.

    Spike roared and swooped towards Giles, golden eyes blazing with hatred and anger, and the watcher tensed, preparing himself for the inevitable attack, searching quickly for some sort of weapon. He had been quite foolish indeed, his stake wasted in the coat hanging at the front door.

    But the attack never commenced. Spike stopped a hairsbreadth away and rose his hand as if to strike. Giles flinched in preparation, his arm coming up in a defensives gesture.

    Instead of inflicting bodily harm, however, Spike's hand held one of the procured chocolate chip cookies and the vampire took the opportunity to take a large, exaggerated bite, letting Giles know without words just how much he'd prefer it be something a little more Watcher-shaped he was biting.

    Then, with one more parting glare, the vampire turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the front door, pausing briefly to grab a weapon of sorts just off to the side, before stalking through it without a backwards glance.

    Giles stood frozen in place. To have averted death by that narrow of a margin was... unnerving, at best. Snapping himself out of it, Giles half stumbled back to the bar to top his glass off, before finally making his way to the couch.

      Buffy and Joyce found him there ten minutes later; perched on the edge of the cushion, both hands wrapped firmly around the body of the glass tumbler, his face set in a mask of late dawning horror.

    Buffy looked around with growing dread. "Where's Spike?"

    There was no answer from her previous mentor. Buffy watched as he merely tipped his glass to his lips and downed its contents in one long, smooth gulp. "Giles."

    When that also went ignored, Buffy put her hands on her hips and said sharply, "Giles, where is Spike?"

    Giles finally looked in her direction, his eyes blinking slowly as if to bring her into focus.  "Er, he went... outside."

    "What did you do?" Buffy accused, her eyes flashing.

    Giles opened his mouth to make a venomous denial, but the words wouldn't come. Instead he just shook his head dumbly. The near-death experience had shaken him, as loath as he was to admit it.

    "Giles, what did you DO?"

    Her tone served to get his attention and he stood up primly, adopting a look of pure outrage on his face. He didn't seem to realize he was swaying slightly on his feet.

    "I did nothing, Buffy. We exchanged some words. He almost killed me. He ate a cookie and then he went outside. He took a weapon, however, so perhaps it would be in our best interest to look for him."
 

    Buffy gave her Watcher a withering look that matched the one that Spike had given him earlier and promptly ignored him.  Marching to the front door, she wrenched it open.

    "Spike! Get in here!"

    Joyce gave Giles a questioning look, even though she felt like slapping the befuddled look off his face as well.  On top of everything else, now he was drunk.  There was a muffled shout that slipped in through the partially opened door, but Joyce couldn't decipher the words.

    "No, now.  Get in here now!" Buffy yelled.

    More muffled shouts followed, and they watched as Buffy rolled her eyes, and shouted back, "Ok, FINE. Finish, then get your undead ass in here. I mean it!"

     She shut the front door and walked back into the living room, rubbing her chilled arms along the way.

    "What's he doing?" Joyce asked, noting the look of exasperation on her daughter's face.

    Before Buffy could answer, Giles interrupted with, " Perhaps one of us should go make sure he's not,... er... endangering anyone? Spike's mood was a little volatile when he walked out that door. He could be doing anything right now."

    Giles felt the heat of Buffy's glare before she turned back to her mother. "He's shoveling," Buffy informed Joyce.

    'Ah yes, so that is what the weapon was', Giles thought fleetingly before coming to a decision. "Buffy, I will take care of this matter. You did not see Spike's state of mind as he passed through that door. I would once again be remiss if I did not at least protect this town against any fatalities merely because he and I had words," Giles explained in a slightly slurred, pompous tone.

    Buffy's indelicate snort was followed by a robust eye roll.  "I told you he was shoveling, Giles. What..., did you think he was burying dead bodies, or something?"

    Actually the thought had not crossed his mind, and now sinister scenes began playing out in his head. Bodies stacked up, mass graves, and Spike shoveling away with a demonic smile on his face... 

    Apparently, his face must have mirrored some of his thoughts, because Buffy's voice interrupted his musings.

    "The ground is frozen solid, Giles. Bit tough to be burying bodies in the front yard of a residential neighborhood, you know."

    Her sarcasm was not lost on him, and his eyes hardened in response. "Buffy, really. I have no idea what delusions you have let yourself live under this past year, but it is time for it to stop. You are not some merely some impressionable, teen runaway who found herself joined at the hip with a man who made things easier; you are living with a murderer. The truth is, you have NO idea what a vampire is capable of. Especially this one."

    Buffy heard the gasp of outrage from her mother, and brought herself up to her most assured pose to coolly regard the man who had been  her mentor. "You're right, Giles. I don't know exactly what this vampire is capable of," she bit out.  "Only because he continually surprises me."

    Taking a step forward, Buffy roughly grabbed Giles arm and bodily dragged his resisting body in the direction of the front door, ignoring his sputtering.  He winced in pain as the door struck his shoulder as she flung it open, and Giles didn't even want to ponder if it had been intentional or not.

    "You want to know what evilness I am letting him get up to while he is outside,-un-chaperoned-with a shovel?" Buffy demanded, shoving him onto the porch. "Well, there he is."

    With a small squint of his eyes, Giles was just able to make out the a flash of white blonde hair shining against the back drop of snow across the street, gradually discerning the black bowling outfit from the nighttime shadows. He could see the glint of the shovel as it moved through the air at a furious pace.  Spike was definitely taking his aggressions out on something, there was no doubt of that.

    "He's..." Giles couldn't even finish the statement.

    "That's right. He's shoveling the neighbor's driveway, doesn't want her to have to do it herself. She's 79 years old, lives alone, and makes Spike come over for dinner once a week when I'm at work." Buffy turned around and headed back inside, Giles following dumbly behind. She closed the door to the cool air trying to seep into the cozy house and exchanged looks with her mom.

    Buffy walked back into the living room, her hands clenched with fury, wanting so very badly to pummel her Watcher.  She had always known he was narrow-minded, but this was ridiculous. And irritating.

     And he was really pissing her off.

    Giles followed a few steps behind her, walking with an almost shaken look on his face. Spike kept the elderly neighbor's driveway shoveled. It was inconceivable to think that the vampire would do such a thing. Buffy must make him do it, he concluded, and turned his satisfied eyes to her.

    "And no, I do not make him do it. He just started doing it all on his own. Said it was the neighborly thing to do," Buffy injected, ruining the foregone conclusion Giles had come up with.

    The front door swung open, and Spike stomped in, his face still set in a furious mask. Buffy hurried over to him, yelping when he laid extra chilled fingers on her flesh.  "Gloves, Spike! You need to wear gloves!!!! I don't care if you are dead, you idiot! Your hands are icicles."

    Both Joyce and Giles watched as his face softened, and the coiled tenseness seemed to leave him, just by being in Buffy's presence. Their feelings were once again in clear evidence as Buffy rubbed his half frozen hands, kissing them tenderly before smiling up at him.

    It made Joyce want to go smack Buffy's Watcher around herself.  How he could remain so damn dense when it was clear that there were very real emotions being felt here, Joyce didn't know.  One thing she did know for certain; she knew where her loyalties lay.

This chapter is un-beta'd

Chapter 9

The remainder of the evening proved to be the most trying that Spike had experienced since he had held the car door open for Buffy that fateful night so long ago. The urge to rip out her Watcher's throat was intense and consuming, but the image of seeing disappointment echoed in Buffy's eyes was much stronger. And that just wouldn't do.

    They had come too far for that.

    So he endured.

    But, he thought with wry satisfaction, he wasn't the only one suffering. Buffy's mum was holding her own with the git, tossing dirty looks whenever his pompous mouth was opened. It was clear that the Watcher was still holding onto misplaced resentment for the role Spike played during the torture at Angelus's hands. The barely veiled and inappropriate comments tossed out randomly made that perfectly clear. 

     Fortunately for Spike, Buffy was able to read him just like he'd always been able to read her, and didn't give into her overwhelming curiosity as to why her Watcher was suddenly intent on locating her whereabouts.

     "Come on, it's late. Let's go to bed," Buffy suggested to him in a neutral voice, although her eyes spoke volumes of wicked promise.

    Spike's agitated eyes darkened intensely, his cock jumping to buck against the confines of his jeans and a low growl left his throat.

    Buffy gulped, it had been a while since she'd seen him like this. This... worked up.  Guess the shoveling didn't quite do the trick like it usually did, a release of a different sort was definitely in order here. Buffy found herself unable to look away from his captivating stare.

    "Really Buffy, we have many things to discuss," Giles interrupted impatiently, his displeasure in clear evidence.

    Buffy looked over at Giles sharply, her arm whipping around to stop the pounce she knew was inevitable. She allowed her fingers to splay against the hard contours of Spike's muscled chest in an instinctive gesture to keep him from succumbing to his instinctive urges.  Buffy felt like causing some major pain herself, and  could only imagine how Spike felt.

    "Not tonight we're not. Spike and I are going to bed. I'm tired." Buffy's voice was firm and slightly frigid, and even Giles recognized it as a tone that he dared not argue with.

    "Very well then. However, we will be discussing this first thing in the morning," Giles warned.

    Buffy ignored him and went to give her mother a good night hug.  Both Summers' women suddenly found themselves with tears in their eyes as they stayed in each others embrace far longer than intended. 

    "Oh god, I missed you," Joyce whispered, mentally slapping herself for once again falling prey to her tears. She had told herself there would be no more hysterics of a sniveling kind, no more regrets, and yet here she was. Clutching her daughter and never wanting to let her go.

    "I missed you too, mom." Buffy's voice was hoarse with the burden of unshed tears. "I'm sorry I stayed away."

    "I know, I understand. I'm sorry too."

    Buffy drew back slightly, a happy smile spread across a face that was now wet with the tears that refused to be kept back. "New pact. No more with the apologies, ok? New start for both of us."

    Joyce smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically.  "New start. Good idea."

    Buffy began to draw away  when she looked over her shoulder and saw the hungry look that remained on her husband's face.  Shifting nervously under his powerful gaze, she turned back to her mom. "Uh, mom? You might want to stay down here for a bit."

    The look on Joyce's face turned questioning. Suddenly, her daughter was pulled from her arms roughly and dragged willingly towards the stairs.

    "Night, Joyce," Spike called over his shoulder, as he quickly went up the stairs, Buffy in tow.  It didn't go unnoticed that Giles was ignored, and Joyce turned a baffled look on her face towards her fellow traveler.

    It hit them both at the same time.

    Spike was dragging Buffy upstairs to have sex.

    Joyce inwardly cringed, then remembered Buffy's parting words and crossed the room to help herself to the stack of home improvement magazines she had spotted in the bookshelf. She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head that protested her baby having relations of a sexual nature. Some things were better to be kept ignorant about, and this was definitely one of them.

    A violent shudder wracked Giles at the imagery of what went on behind closed bedroom doors, and his face hardened. It was too much to comprehend. His Slayer having relations with a demon while he was in current residence.  It was a slap in the face of massive proportions. Truly.

     At the first sound of banging that came from the third level, Giles stiffened and prepared himself to march up the stairs.

    "Don't... you... dare..." Joyce hissed, having settled herself comfortably on the couch.

    Giles whipped around to argue, then saw the look of resolve on Joyce's face. With a pained, heavy sigh, he once again made his way to the side bar and allowed himself a healthy sized refill before joining Joyce on the couch.

    ++++++

    There were so many times when Buffy found herself forgetting that Spike was a vampire, but this was definitely  not one of them. She knew his demon was in full arousal here, and Spike was fighting a bitter battle with his natural instincts. He  seemed to be doing a remarkable job of controlling things, she had to give him credit.

    God help her, it just made her love him that much more.

    When he kicked the door shut to their bedroom and smashed her unresisting body roughly against the closed door, she reveled in the sensation of being at the complete mercy  of a fully aroused vampire.

    "Thank you for not killing Giles," Buffy whispered huskily, her arms snaking around his neck while she rubbed herself against the hard bulge pressing into her stomach.

    Spike snarled, lowering his face into the delicate curve of her neck. "Don't bring up the sod when I'm about to fuck you good and proper."

    His crude words combined with the feeling of his cool tongue probing her jugular halted any further comments as she tipped her head back and to the side, a low groan sliding from her lips at the attentive worship.

    The groan was Spike's final undoing, his need to possess her now overwhelming. The musky scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and with the subtle sounds of bones shifting, his demon slid across his face.

    Buffy felt the tongue at her throat turn rough, the smooth planes of his face against her skin becoming distorted and sharp, and a pool of moisture flooded her crotch.  There was no fear, only desire, as she impatiently reached for the buttons of his jeans.  He didn't succumb to his demon often, and Buffy was more than willing to take advantage of it.

    Keeping up a series of harsh, constant growls, Spike batted her hand away and ripped the fly of his jeans open, his cock springing free and more than ready.  His face didn't leave the  haven of her throat when he took his hands from her succulent body to shove his jeans roughly down his slim hips, kicking them impatiently off before reaching for the waistband of Buffy's pants.

    Finding himself suddenly without the patience to remove them, Spike merely ripped them away, ignoring the squeak of protest of the girl in his arms.  The urge to bury himself into her welcoming depths was almost unbearable now, and Spike reached around to grab the firm ripeness of her ass, hauling her up so that her heat was in intimate contact with his hard shaft.

    "Need to be inside you." His rough voice danced across her skin, bringing a new flood of desire rushing through her. God, she loved the way he made her feel, this passion. She never knew she was capable of such desire, and eagerly embraced it.

    "Take my underwear off," Buffy ordered breathlessly, clutching onto Spike's shoulders as he dropped one of her bare thighs to press his fingers against her sopping mound. She arched against the mastery of his talented digits as they stroked her feminine core.  Her heart was beating with all the  subtly of a runaway freight train, and she could feel his fangs grazing the skin at her shoulder where his tongue was worrying the tender skin.

    "Fuck your underwear."  With an impatient sweep, Spike pushed aside the thin layer of cotton and in a single rough stroke, impaled Buffy on his hard, arching cock.

    Buffy's eyes slid shut at the tremendous force of sensation that slammed into her at the bold intrusion of Spike's shaft into her sodden passage. She could feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate his large girth, until he was in her to the hilt.  Without pause, she rose up, slipping herself almost off his erection before slamming her hips downward, burying her own face into the cool, pale column of Spike's throat.

    "Oh god," she cried, as Spike slammed her back against the door, one hand seeking purchase against the door jam to sustain his balance while thrusting  into her.   Buffy brought her legs up to circle his waist, bringing him even more intimately inside her, matching each thrust with a downward motion of her own.

    "Fuck, Buffy..." Spike growled, propelling his hips forward, driving her to bang against the door with each forceful movement. 

    Wanting to be even deeper within her, Spike wrapped one arm around her back, the other clamped around her ass for support, and  he swiftly pivoted around with the bed as his intended destination. 

     However, Spike didn't expect Buffy to clamp her inner muscles suddenly around his cock like an inner, strangling vise, and suddenly all feeling left his legs and he could swear he felt his eyes cross.  He was unable to prevent falling helplessly to the bare floor, bringing Buffy to land atop of him.

    The sudden jarring motion was more than either could take, connecting their bodies in such a way that they both moaned simultaneously. Spike wasted no time in flipping them over quickly, their hips slamming together as they bucked against the other. Spike's growls were fast taking on a  savage and primal note, deep, coarse rumbles from his chest, keeping perfect time with their powerful thrusts.  

    Buffy thought she was going to die.  The intense pleasure building up as Spike moved inside her was almost excruciating.  When she looked up and realized he had not shifted out of game face, she knew exactly what it was that Spike needed from her.

    And she was more than willing to give it.

    With a gesture born of trust and love, Buffy tipped her head to the side, offering her throat to the raging demon above her.

    With a savage snarl, Spike bent his head down and sunk his fangs into the delicate tissue, not using the usual care Buffy had grown accustomed to.

    Her subsequent orgasm almost killed her.

    Well, she thought she was dying anyway, as brilliant colors of light flashed before her eyes, and her body exploded in a wild prism of sensation. She was so gone with multiple waves of pleasure, she didn't even hear the load roar that sounded practically in her ear.

    Bonelessly, Buffy drifted back to awareness to find Spike  spread out in a boneless heap on top of her spent body, pressing her into the hard floor beneath.  

    With limbs that seemed drained of supernatural strength, she pushed weakly at him. "Off," she ordered weakly. "Can't breathe."

    Spike lifted his head up from its warm pillow and flashed a red-tinged smile, his demon having found the fulfillment it craved and had retreated, and it was blue eyes that flashed at her now, his face smug with satisfaction.  With an alarming burst of strength, Spike rolled them over so she lay pillowed against his hard chest, still intimately connected to his body.

    "That better?"

    She nodded.  "You know, next time you could at least kiss me," she pretended to pout. "And taking my clothes off would definitely be of the good. You know, not tearing them off my body."

    Those words were barely out of her mouth before firm lips were crushed against hers, silencing any further words she had planned to say...

    +++++++

    The next morning, Buffy entered the kitchen in a good mood, her body feeling the burden of the previous night's endeavors, but her mind perfectly content and happy.

    "Morning," she greeted, noting her mom was already up and had coffee brewing. A sudden blast of nostalgia hit her.

    When her mom looked over at her with a knowing look, embarrassment flooded every cell of her body.  "Oops," Buffy mumbled. "Uh.. sorry."

    Her mom smiled at her daughter's discomfiture.  She took a moment to study the happy glow that seemed to emanate from Buffy that had been absent the previous evening. Joyce knew exactly what had put that look there, it hadn't been THAT long ago when Hank used to accomplish the same thing.

    Oooh those were the days, Joyce thought fleetingly.

    "Well, let's just say I'm glad you told me to not go upstairs," her mom commented dryly while handing Buffy a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "It was bad enough in the living room."

    A mortified giggle flew out of Buffy's mouth, and when she was finally able to look at her mom, she was happy to notice a teasing glint in her eye.

    "Sorry!" Buffy repeated, taking a slow sip of coffee. "Spike had a bit of uh..., pent up aggression to work out."

    "Ah. Is that what you kids call it these days?"

    Before Buffy was able to register that her mom was teasing her about sex, Giles shuffled into the kitchen, wincing at the bright stream of sunlight pouring through the window.

    With sure, quick movements, Buffy had the blinds drawn, bringing the kitchen into blissful darkness for Giles's hangover.

    Turning to face her Watcher, already feeling the disapproving vibes pouring off of him, she tensed in preparation.  "Good morning, Giles," she said carefully.

    "Er, yes. Good morning, Buffy." Giles had been significantly warned the previous evening by Buffy's mother, and didn't fancy incurring that wrath again.

    Joyce handed him a cup of coffee, which he took with distaste and sipped it with great trepidation.  Sniffing the air, he asked, "Do you smell something?"

    Buffy shook her head, going to sit at the kitchen table, keeping a wary eye on her watcher. She didn't like facing him without Spike by her side, and she didn't know what that said about her now. And surprisingly, she found she didn't really care.

    Looking in her direction, Giles immediately spotted something that made his blood run cold. "Did that bastard bite you last night?" he ground out, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

    The tentative air of acceptance went sour with that remark, and Buffy's face closed off. "Yes, Giles, he did. Several times in fact."

    "Are you insane? I cannot believe this," Giles sputtered, shaking his head back and forth in utter disbelief.

    Joyce opened her mouth to intervene, not liking the subject matter, but disliking the attitude on display far more. However, Buffy clearly was able to take of things by herself.

    "What Spike and I do behind closed bedroom doors is none of your concern, GILES, " Buffy bit out, eyes narrowed and cold.  "I am no longer the Slayer that you can boss around, so you will NOT take that tone of voice with me.  My personal relationship is none of your business."

    "If it has something to do with a vampire, it most assuredly is my business."

    Buffy set her coffee cup on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive pose.  "I will repeat this only once more, than I will not be responsible for my actions. My relationship with Spike is NONE of your business." Buffy threw in an effective glare for good measure, but then her carefully posed censure was ruined when her nose scrunched up in disgust.

    "God, something does smell in here," she admitted. Looking at her mom, she asked, "Did it smell when you came in here?"

    Joyce nodded carefully, glad she didn't have to worry about insulting her daughter's housekeeping skills.

    "Ugh. It smells like something died in here," Buffy commented, the cover of freshly brewed coffee fleeing from the air.

    "Well, and this surprises you?" Giles retorted haughtily.

    Buffy rounded on him. "What? You think the smell has something to do with Spike?"

    "Buffy, I do wish you would wake up, my dear. He is a vampire. Dead things and vampires go hand in hand. "

    "Something bloody stinks," a voice commented from the entry to the kitchen, and three sets of eyes looked over at the sleepy, rumpled vampire strolling into the kitchen. "Woke me up from a dead kip, it did."

    "Giles thinks you're responsible," Buffy informed him, her eyes roaming appreciatively over his bare, muscular torso.

    A derisive snort was her reply, and she tipped her face up for a good morning kiss, and wasn't disappointed.

    "Was I digging holes for all those dead bodies again?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the other Englishman, who stood with a disapproving look on his face.

    "Yeah, I think so, " Buffy replied back with an easy smile, leaning back against the chest she had been hauled against.

    Joyce was hard pressed to keep her own smile at bay, and she walked towards the sink to pour the dredges of her coffee down the sink. 

    "The smell seems to be stronger over here,"  Joyce commented. 

    Spike tipped his nose in the air and inhaled, immediately crossing the room towards the stove. He sniffed around, then turned back to Buffy.

    "So... I've been burying dead bodies in the stove, have I?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

    A puzzled look come over Buffy's face as she watched Spike turn around and gather tools from the organized drawer just left of the stove.  They all observed while Spike undid the screws to the grill covering the fan above the stove, and the moment he removed it, a burst of foulness spread through the room.

    "Oh god!" Buffy cried, holding her nose. "What is that smell?"

    "It's something dead, whatever it is."

    "Are you sure?" Joyce cried, her own face turning pale.

    "Vampire here, Joyce. Trust me, I can smell when something is dead."

    That comment  hung in the air as Spike retrieved a flashlight, Buffy and her mom unconsciously backed away, almost as if they expected something to leap from the stove. They all watched as Spike slid into game face and shone the light up to inspect the fan and vent above the stove.

    The look of disgust that became plastered  on Spike's game face might have been funny in another situation, one with far less anticipation.  "Now this is bloody disgusting, Buffy."

    "What?" Buffy cried, her stomach rolling.

    Spike ignored the question, his game face sliding away to reveal a pensive look on his handsome face. "What I just can't understand is how it happened."

    "What?"

    "The bloody fan. We haven't used the thing since we moved in."

    Buffy tried to figure out what he was talking about when a memory of a few days prior flashed into her head. The scuffling sounds coming from the vents.

    "Wait! I turned it on the other day to scare away the birds that were pecking on the roof."

    Spike sent her a dumbstruck look. "The birds," he echoed derisively.

   Buffy nodded, and Spike rolled his eyes.  "Well congratulations slayer. You managed to take out a whole nest of mice single-handedly."

    "Oh god..."

    "Yeah, and it's going to be ever grosser when you clean it up."

    Buffy's look of disgust turned to one of outrage. "What? I'm not cleaning it up!"

    "Well, then we can all appreciate the finer aroma of decay for quite some time then." Spike flicked the flashlight off and advanced on Buffy who began backing away with a look of barely veiled panic on her face.

    "You killed them, you clean them up," he informed her, his good mood of the morning having long since deserted him.  Between the stench of decaying  rodents that smelled far worse for him than any of the humans, and seeing the Watcher's glowering face, he was suddenly thrown back into a right rotten mood. "You're the soddin' slayer, for christ's sake, this should be nothing for you."

    "No!" Buffy cried, spinning around and using her excessive strength to blast her way out of the kitchen.

    The pounding of her frantic feet up the stairs and then the slam of the bedroom left the kitchen bathed in profound silence, as Giles and Joyce watched Spike's face intently to gauge his intentions.  

    With a snarl, Spike headed back to the stove, kicking a chair over along the way. Joyce didn't want to admit to being wary, but seeing the thunderous look on Spike's face was making her slightly on edge. 

     Spike gathered his supplies for his Search and Retrieve mission before turning back to glare with disgust at the stove. He looked over his shoulder and tossed out,

    "And you people call ME the bloody evil one?"

    tbc...

    a/n- ok, if you're totally grossed out right now, I just have to admit that this part of the story was based on a true story.   Let's just say my house STILL stinks.  A big EWW.

I wasn't going to add it, but Beanmommy made me (I SWEAR, she did!) *glares at Beanmommy*

 chapter 10

    Her mom had wasted no time in joining Buffy in safety behind the closed bedroom door, and Buffy was thankful she had just finished smoothing the last remaining evidence of the previous night's passion from the thrashed bed linen. She found her mom wearing the same repulsed look on her face in response to the carnage, and Buffy couldn't help the shiver of disgust that made its way down her spine.

   Yes, so she could splice a demon open right down the middle, and fillet it from head to toe and not suffer a quiver of protest from her iron-clad stomach. But pulverize some little rodents that were stupid enough to move into the piping above her stove? That was bad. No way was she equipped to deal with that one.

    So she and her mom played catch up, while trying not to dwell on the gruesome task being performed  several flights below them. They made sure to keep things light, neither willing to get into the serious agenda quite yet.  Overwhelming feelings of just how much they had both missed during the year struck hard, but both Buffy and her mother were determined to stick to their promise of the night before. No more tears. The time for that was over.

    Fifteen minutes had passed, the lingering stench of what had been unleashed in the kitchen had faded to a tolerable level, and both were just basking in being together again. Curled up against each other on the big antique bed, it was easy to push away any unpleasant thoughts, as Buffy got the scoop on neighbors, her mom's job, and Joyce's current life in general.

    It was soon to be interrupted however. 

    "HOLY BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!" It was a roar that reverberated through the walls, and if the neighbors heard, Buffy wouldn't be surprised. Both she and her mother visibly started at the loud sudden commotion, looking at each other in confusion before  erupting in hysterical laughter.

    "Oh my god, what do you think happened?" Buffy managed to gasp.

    Her mom couldn't respond, just shook her dumbly, eyes full of mirth.  Another shout from below them reached their ears.

    "You bints better not be up there laughing, or I'll be coming up there and ripping your throats out, I will!"

    Buffy's mom amused look immediately turned fearful, and she looked to her daughter for support.  Buffy rolled her eyes, her laughter dying down.

    "Please. Do you know how often he tells me that? Try at least twice a day. Spike's big with the empty threats, he's not going to hurt you." 

    "What about Rupert?"

    "Spike's not like that anymore."

    "I can see that, but don't you think Mr. Giles has pushed him a bit since we arrived?"  Her mom settled a pointed look upon her daughter.

    A flash of fear shadowed Buffy's face. "You're going to make me go down there, aren't you?"

    Her mom didn't reply, just continued to look at Buffy with an expression that she remembered well. The one that told her that arguing was futile.       

    Allowing a nauseated pout to settle across her full lips, Buffy whined, "Fine, but you're coming with me."

    Not waiting for a response, Buffy flounced over to the door, her hand reaching slowly for the  knob.  With just an inch separating her fingertips from the steel knob, Buffy hesitated, her motions stilled as if by their own accord.

    Her mom's profoundly spoken "Buffy," had her head turning to send a pleading glance in her mother's direction.  "Go."

    "FINE. I'm gooo-ing"

    Joyce couldn't help but smile at her daughter's antics, heartened to realize that some things hadn't changed.  However,  she quickly realized that she had to follow, and her amusement stilled.  Maybe it hadn't been such a hot idea to send Buffy to check up on Rupert. He WAS a big boy. Surely he could handle one civilized vampire?

    Not able to contain the shudder that gripped her, Joyce moved to follow Buffy through the opened bedroom door.

    The stench became stronger the closer they got, the clank of tools and muttered British obscenities the only sounds heard.  Suddenly, a high pitched squealing noise rent the air, followed by shouts of panic from Spike.

    Ignoring her own disgust for the moment, Buffy practically ran the remaining steps that separated her from her husband, not trying to shrug off the tendrils of fear that squeezed her.  Capable, assessing eyes quickly went to work to pinpoint the threat,  scoping the room in a smooth, organized fashion.       

    Then her jaw dropped.

+++

    "Bloody hell, Watcher! Keep the soddin' bag open!!!"

    "I assure you, that is precisely what I am doing."  Tweed jacket off, sleeves rolled up, Giles held the mouth of the black garbage bag as wide as it would allow. And as far away from his body as possible. "Would you just drop the bloody thing in already? I would like to retain some semblance of hearing from this."

    "What does it look I'm trying to do?" Spike growled, his hand wielding a pair of long tipped forceps. He finally accomplished his task, and with a triumphant shout, snatched the now closed bag away from Giles's hands, and threw it to the floor, oblivious to Buffy's presence. 

    Buffy was still trying to wrap her brain about what she had just seen when she saw Spike lift his booted foot over the moving bag on the floor.

    "Hey! What are you doing?"        

    Spike's head shot up to lock eyes with her, and she realized he was in game face. "What's it look like I'm bloody doing? I'm killing the soddin' thing."

    Buffy drew herself up in self righteousness. "No you're not, you're going to take it outside and let it go." 

    "Are you bloody mental?  I'm not letting it go."

    "Yes, you are."

    Buffy watched as Spike and her Watcher exchanged a look of disbelief, then he turned his amber eyes back in her direction. "Buffy, the thing deserves to die. You have no idea."

    Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, her posture shouting that her position was firm.  Spike turned to see if her mother could talk some sense into her, but saw that her body language mirrored her daughter's.

    "This is  ridiculous," Spike grumbled, snatching the bag up and heading towards the front door, once again forgoing a jacket as he stomped out on to the porch, slamming the door behind him.

+++++

    Immediately upon the abrupt departure, Giles once again pinned disappointed eyes upon his Slayer, his mouth a tight disproving line.

    Buffy felt like she was living a Twilight Zone episode. Maybe like the one she barely remembered watching on a Thanksgiving day marathon a long time ago, where the little kid rolled under the bed and straight into an alternate universe. Maybe when she and Spike where embarking on their wild sex-capades of the night before, that somehow happened to her.

    It was mere minutes before Spike came stomping back inside, shaking snow off him as he stalked into the kitchen, still wearing the face of his demon, much to Buffy's surprise. 

    "Geez, Spike. It was just a mouse,"   

    He whirled on her. "It wasn't just a mouse, Buffy."

    "Oh my goodness, there wasn't anything... demonic about it, was there?" Joyce asked with concern, coming to stand next to her daughter in a show of support.

    Spike snorted. "Right. No such thing, Joyce." 

    "It er... taunted us." Giles admitted, exchanging a very brief mutual look of understanding with Spike, who nodded his agreement.

    "It taunted you? Like stuck its tongue out and went 'neener neener neener'?"  Buffy's voice was full of skepticism.

    "No, Buffy," Spike replied scornfully. "It played little shit games with us, is what, when it should have been chopped up into bitty pieces like the rest of his family."

    "Thanks for the visual," Buffy grimaced, realizing that by allowing the mouse to live, she had dealt a serious blow to not only Spike's manhood, but apparently Giles' as well.  She looked over at the two men who were standing there with a shared camaraderie over a renegade mouse, and found a small amount of amusement at the situation.     

    Taking a deep breath, she sucked it in and tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry I made you let it go, baby. Hey, you can go hunt it down, if you want," she said brightly.

    Surprise flickered in the deep recesses of his eyes, and an embarrassed smile graced his face. "Nah, that's ok. Still got his family to take care of. Want to help the Watcher and me?"

    "No! As in, a world of." Buffy quickly turned tail to head out of the kitchen, her mom right at her heels.

TBC

11

     Buffy played it safe and removed herself from the house in case Spike attempted to guilt her into helping with the morbid cleanup, calling over her shoulder as she ushered her mom out the door that she was going to show her mom the town.  Because it actually might have worked, she DID feel guilty.

    Buffy and her mom had managed to spend several enjoyable hours together, and had just finished having lunch at the diner on 3rd street when Buffy's cell phone rang.

    "Hello?" she answered cautiously, already knowing who was on the other end.

    "You can come home now, Miss. Mouse-slay-teer."

    The teasingly spoken name brought a smile to her lips and Buffy was relieved to note that he sounded slightly amused rather than irritated at her so very obvious defection.

    "Ok. Mom and I were just having lunch, we'll be home in a few." Buffy slapped the phone shut with a quick flick of her wrist and grinned conspiratorially at her mother. relief filling both women that they had been spared the gruesome task.

    A few minutes later, the two Summers women were headed out the heavy glass door, each laden with a stout brown sack. Buffy had wisely purchased  an entire apple pie from the diner rather than the usual piece she usually brought home to Spike, and Joyce belatedly remembered Rupert and the fact he quite possibly had missed lunch. 

    Wanting to offer penance, they ordered the daily special to go and were soon on their way home.

    When they stepped through the front door, they did so with much trepidation. There was a lingering smell of decay, but scented candles had been lit and now the smell was battled by the heavy aroma of pumpkin spice. Buffy hung her coat and scarf on the coat rack next to the door and stepped in quietly, the box with the pie held stiffly before her as the peace offering it was.

    "We're home," she called, slightly unnerved by the silence.

    "Know that, you silly bint.  Vampire here, ya know."

    Buffy spun around to catch the amused smirk as Spike stood in the doorway behind them. "God! You scared the crap out of me!"

    Spike snorted derisively. "Some bleedin slayer you are."  He eyed the box in her hands, and one eyebrow lifted towards the ceiling.  "A whole pie, is it? Feeling a wee bit guilty?"

    "No!" Buffy denied heatedly, then softened. "Ok fine, maybe a little."

    "Good." Spike stalked across the room and relieved Buffy of her offering, heading purposefully into the kitchen.

    "Where's Giles?" Buffy called after him, not wanting to follow.

    "I ate him," Spike tossed back. "Tossed his body in the basement along with the others."

    At her mother's horrified gasp, Buffy couldn't help but shake her head. "He didn't eat him, mom."

       Spike's derisive laughter sounded loudly from the kitchen. "He's taking a shower."

    "Ok, I'll just put his lunch.... here then." Buffy took the bag from her mother and set it on the dining room table.  With a casual stroll, Buffy settled herself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, more than content to spend the rest of the day in such a fashion.

    As the afternoon passed however, Buffy's nerves escalated. She knew there was little she could do to avoid the reason her Watcher had been so intent upon finding her, but she was determined to keep the knowledge at bay as long as possible.  Every time Giles would open his mouth, Buffy would point her finger at him and making a shushing gesture, and the pained sighs from the Watcher grew in volume and frequency.

    "Buffy, we must discuss this," Giles finally announced, thoroughly exasperated.

    "Giles, I don't want to know. You know why? The second you tell me, it will be like this entire year never happened and I'm just not willing to let it go. I don't want to be that Slayer anymore."

    Another put upon sigh followed by a grimace met this current vehement denial, as Buffy maintained her current status on the couch, a stack of magazines beside her.

    Spike had gone upstairs to catch a few more hours of sleep leaving Buffy alone with the onslaught. Finally after a harsh glare from Joyce, Giles finally threw himself into the large leather easy chair after selecting a novel from the extensive selection lining the large antique bookshelves.

    It seemed like the day that had no end to Buffy.

    Relief came with a knock on the door.  After yelling that the door was open, Buffy was ecstatic to see her friend Elaine posing herself dramatically in the now open doorway.

    "Since when do you knock?" Buffy asked with a grin, getting up to embrace her friend.

    "Uh gee... that would be since your mother came to town. And that other one," Elaine replied derisively, looking around the room. Her grin widened as she discovered Giles sitting  in the corner. "Oops." She acknowledged, sounding anything but.

    Elaine slung her jacket off and hung it on top of Buffy's while closing the door. Suddenly, her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Holy crap on a hotdog stick, what is that SMELL?"

    "So not a story I want to go into right now. I'm trying to repress here." Buffy's tone was firm but Elaine caught the shudder of revulsion that struck her normally fearless friend, and allowed herself to be herded over to the couch.

    "Where's Rick?" Buffy asked.

    "Oh, he'll be over later.  He was doing the manly puttering thing in the garage. Mostly I just heard a lot of swearing, so don't think he's doing much of anything." A wicked and familiar gleam entered Elaine's eye as her head swiveled around searchingly. "Speaking of manly...."

    "He's sleeping," Buffy interrupted before Elaine could finish what was so obviously about to commence. She snickered at the crestfallen look on Elaine's face. "Don't worry, His Manliness should be getting up soon."

    "Well... alright then." With that said, Elaine settled back against the couch and looked at Joyce, still pointedly ignoring Giles. "Don't you think Spike is pretty much Manliness Personified, Joyce? I mean... those cheekbones, those eyes.... THAT BODY," Elaine pronounced dramatically, licking her lips in sheer appreciation.

    "Elaine!" Buffy hissed, slightly mortified for once at her friend blatant appreciation of her husband. She flicked a glance over at her mom who  she discovered only wore a bemused look on her face.  Giles's expression held distaste and slight contempt as he observed Elaine, and a rush of anger slammed through Buffy.   Just when she thought she was all on the Giles-Forgiving train too. Nobody looked down on her friend, dammit!

    "You silly bints talking about me again?" Spike inquired as he strolled nonchalantly into the room.

    Elaine took one look at him before clapping her hands together and tipping her head to the ceiling to offer silent thanks for the delicious sight before her, then quickly commenced with the blatant leering.  "Oh yeah, my personal favorite. We have 'Fresh from the shower Spike'," Elaine revealed, as her eyes widened appreciatively.

    "You should see 'In the Shower Spike'," Buffy replied mischievously , then slapped her hands over mouth.  She shot her mom an embarrassed look, her face turning the color crimson for making such a lewd remark in front of her mother. But then realized her mother's own eyes were riveted on the damp, hard muscled torso in front of them; the pale, smooth skin a harsh contrast to the dark jeans he wore. Having failed to fasten the top button, all eyes of a female persuasion were simultaneously drawn to the hint of what lay directly below the low waistband.

    Elaine turned to Buffy and crossed her arms petulantly in front of her. "You so suck. If you weren't my best friend, I would hate you. You know that, right?"  She looked past Buffy to Joyce, and gestured widely. "See? Your mom totally agrees. If you weren't her daughter, your mom would hate you too. Right, Joyce?"

    At the secretive smile that played across Joyce's face, Elaine countered, "What? Am I wrong here? I don't think so! Oh... you think you're too old for him, is that it Joyce? Please! The guy is practically a historical monument."

    Joyce laughed at Elaine blatant teasing. Spike snorted in disgust, but it didn't escape anyone's notice that he deliberately stretched his arms over his head in a long, leisurely stretch, causing the corded muscles in his abdomen to ripple in an enticing manner.

    "Show off," Buffy remarked lightly, shaking her head.

    "Wait, do that again," Elaine commanded, "I missed the first part."

    Spike sent her a dirty look.  "Bloody hell, what am I? And where the buggar is your husband at? Need his support here, you know. Don't know how many times I've told the sod not to let you over here unattended, Elaine. You scare the bloody piss out of me."

    Elaine shrugged, completely unaffected. "He's at home, doing manly stuff in the garage. Of course, he'll never be as manly as you, but..." Elaine allowed her voice to trail off in pained acceptance.

    "You getting all this down, Watcher? Should be note worthy, and all. Maybe Elaine could be your secret weapon in the fight against evil; make all Big Bads run screaming in  the opposite direction.  With that effort of civility towards Giles, Spike headed into the kitchen, all eyes following his exit. "Hey Buffy, what are we doing for dinner?" he called back.

    "I don't know, but I'm not stepping foot in that kitchen until my heebie jeebie Factor is at Defcon: Not So Much."

    "Why? What happened?" Elaine questioned, fully alerted to the potential for gossip.

    "I don't want to talk about it." In a manner of dismissal, Buffy picked up the magazine she had been looking through and pretended to become engrossed in its glossy contents, ignoring the uncharacteristic snort from her Watcher.

    Elaine opened her mouth to probe further when a low knock on the door was heard.

    Buffy, glad to have the distraction knowing full well how tenacious her friend could be when she set her mind to something, called out quickly, "Come in."

    Buffy tossed a look of exasperation in Elaine's direction. "Sheesh, what is it with you guys and the sudden all-knocking-ness?"

    Arching her perfectly waxed and groomed eyebrow in response, Elaine commented dryly, "It's a little something called manners, Oh dearest friend of mine."

    "Please. Like that has ever stopped you before," Buffy grumbled before yelling for Rick to come in as she geared up to brave her stinky kitchen. One thing she knew, they were going OUT to dinner. There was no way she was cooking in there tonight. Nooo way.

    When the front door still failed to open, Buffy spun around before reaching the archway that would take her into the kitchen and to Spike.  "Hello! Are you deaf now on top of developing an annoying case of manners? This is the part where you turn the knob and walk in, Rick."

    "I think you need to get Spike back out here to answer the door," Elaine suggested helpfully, not moving from her place on the couch.  Giles muttered to himself once more and got up to prepare a drink at the bar on the other side of the room.

    The front door opened slowly, and a head peeked around. "H-hello?"

    It wasn't Rick.

    Buffy spun around, her eyes widening in shock. "Willow?"

    "Buffy?"  Willow stepped through the open door way, still just the slightest hesitation present in her motions.

    Buffy took a step forward, staring at her friend as a vortex of emotions washed over her. Oh god, it was Willow!! Suddenly finding herself with tears in eyes, Buffy wasted no time in crossing the distance and throwing her arms around the other girl.  Suddenly she was pried from Willow's arms to be ensnared in a more masculine set.

    "Oh my god, Buffy..." Was all Xander was able to get out before finding his voice compromised by the large lump that had formed in his throat. 

    "Xander... Oh god, you guys are really here," Buffy commented dumbly as the true reality of her defection seemed to suddenly hit her.  She had missed her friends. She had missed them way more than she had let herself believe. It took seeing them again to bring those suppressed feelings fully to the surface. Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, and Buffy encompassed both of them in a fierce hug.

    Rick chose that moment to arrive, sliding through the open door unnoticed as he looked with curiosity at the bittersweet reunion taking place. 

    "What's with the sobbies?" He asked his wife as he joined her by the couch.

    "Buffy's 'friends'," she commented without the slightest bit of jealousy. She knew her place in Buffy's life, and was more than secure with their friendship.

    "Ah."

    A sudden, sharp threatening snarl had everyone jumping, and Xander and Willow spun around, their eyes widening comically.

    "Spike!" Xander yelped, his voice several octaves higher than usual.

    Willow took the moment to study the body language of those around her. Her immediate thought was that Spike had followed them there, figuring they would lead him to Buffy so he could finally kill her.  But that theory didn't mesh with what she was seeing.  There were no looks of alarm, no fear. Not much anyway.

    In fact, Buffy looked... exasperated?  Xander still had his arms around her, and when Buffy attempted to detangle herself, the growls rose in ferocity when Xander refused to let her go.  Eyes flashed yellow, and sharp ridges emerged on the vampire's previously smooth forehead. The tension in the room was palpable.

    The terse silence was broken by the sound of an open palm striking flesh. "Ow! What was that for?" Rick complained, rubbing his injured arm.

    Elaine put her fisted hands on her waist and glared at her husband for the unknown slight. "THAT was for never being all sexy and  posseesive," she revealed haughtily, her eyes once again frozen on the half naked vampire standing by the kitchen. Elaine smirked over at Buffy. "Ok, I've changed my vote. I think I like 'All Possessive Spike' the best," she revealed. "He's yummy."

    Buffy found herself grinning at her friend, especially after hearing Giles's muttered, "Oh, good lord. Does the woman ever stop?"

     "Yeah, he is a bit on the yummy side, isn't her?"  Buffy found herself whole-heartedly agreeing. Just like that, things fell back into place and Buffy was on sure ground again. This is where her life was now, where she belonged.  She managed to finally detangle herself from Xander's confused embrace, and took a step back, her eyes traveling around the room.  Her mom looked pensive,  Giles looked disgusted, Xander and Willow appeared confused, and Spike....?

    She could practically feel his intense gaze burning a hole right through her, his low growls still rumbling.  They sent a shiver right through her, and her body had to agree with Elaine. Possessive Spike was very yummy.

    Buffy smiled at him, her love shining through in one quick quirk of her lips, and Spike relaxed, his game face sliding away as they regarded each other from opposite ends of the room.

    "What in the flying bean burrito with hot sauce is Spike doing here?" Xander asked, his voice dripping with suspicion and distaste.

    Giles sighed heavily. Sometimes he couldn't stand the little twerp, and this was proving to be one of those times, especially when he saw Buffy immediately bristle with anger.

TBC..

 Dreams and Desotos Chapter 12

 a/n Chapter is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Thanks to Spikeslovebite for her guidance, and RAE YOU SO ROCK!

12 

"Might I ask why you went against my wishes when I expressly requested that you stay put in Sunnydale?" Giles asked in a tired voice.

    Xander looked at the Watcher like he was the world's biggest idiot. "Because gee, it's... well, Buffy," he replied, as if that explanation alone resolved every unanswered question in the universe. He turned accusing eyes towards the girl in question, hurt and betrayal in clear evidence on the boyish features that had not changed in the year she had been gone.

    "Buffy, what...? How...? WHY?" he asked in a series of babbling mono-syllables, taking a step to close the gap that Buffy had created between them, as if by sheer proximity alone he would receive the answers he so desperately craved. His school boy crash on his friend had not dimmed in the year she had been missing. If anything, it had solidified and grown until Buffy had been placed on a pedestal far above mortal reach.

    Another loud snarl filled the room and all eyes found themselves pinned once more to the tensely coiled vampire, whose game face had slid back to distort the normally handsome features.  Giles actually found himself taking an involuntary step back, his eyes breaking free and searching hastily for the nearest weapon in response to the sheer savagery he was witnessing on the vampire's face. Giles feared the breaking point had just arrived, and knew it would be up to him to eliminate the threat. Oddly, he now found himself quite disturbed by that possibility, but didn't have time to dwell on the significance. 

    "Whooo boy! Look out!!"  Elaine called out excitedly. She pointed a manicured index finger in Xander's direction. "You there...school boy. Do that again. You know, take another step towards Buffy. Because I'm really liking this. Yummy doesn't really even begin to describe it." She settled back and waited for the sinister, yet highly sexy reaction from Spike that she was hoping would commence. A front seat to ogle half naked, snarling, drop-dead gorgeous vampires.... life didn't get much better.

      Elaine noticed everyone now staring at her.  "What?" she cried defensively.

    A burst of laughter erupted from Buffy as she regarded her friend before settling her sparkling eyes back on Spike.  With a rueful shake of the head, Spike commented, "You're bloody insane, you know that, Elaine?"

    "I'll say," Rick agreed heartily, earning him another open palmed slap from his wife. "Ow!"

       It didn't take much for Willow to deduce that this was very obviously a normal play of events in Buffy's new life, and she wondered why Giles had not mentioned it in the message he had sent the day before.  But then she remembered that Giles's message had been heavy with the cryptic and light on the informative, hence their frantic trip across the country.  

    Much to Elaine's dismay, Buffy crossed the room to stand next to Spike, who immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her possessively against him.  The easy familiarity was yet another clinching piece to the puzzle that was turning out all kinds of wrong, in both the minds of Willow and Xander.

    Directing an irritated look towards the front door that was ajar, Spike finally bit out, "Mind closing the bleedin' door there, boy? You're letting all the heat out."

    That spurred Willow into motion, the harsh command causing her to jump to comply once she noticed Xander standing there, mouth now agape.

     Once the door had been closed, Willow turned to look at Buffy, her confusion once again in full evidence.

    The silence went on just a second too long, giving Xander a chance to snap out of his dumbfounded haze.

    "Buffy... what the HELL are you doing HERE with this.... THING!" Xander suddenly shouted, his mind finally coming to the correct conclusion that Buffy and Spike were a couple. Pent up anger over the painful separation took hold,  causing his voice to be sharp and accusatory.

    Beside her, Spike tensed once more, and Buffy braced herself in anticipation.  Giles and his derogatory comments were one thing. But she knew if there was one thing that Spike admired it was intelligence, and Giles possessed an impressive amount.

    But Xander?  She was seeing her old friend though Spike's eyes, and it was not a flattering sight to behold. 

    Come to find out, however, it wasn't Spike that Buffy needed to concern herself with.

    "Excuse me, little boy..." Elaine broke in scornfully. "And who... exactly...  are you?"

    Xander drew himself up, taken aback by the question. "I'm one of Buffy's best friends."

    Elaine crossed her arms over her chest and stared with a disbelieving look on her face. "Wow. Coulda fooled me."

    Xander looked to Willow for help. "We are. We're her best friends. Really." Willow announced wearily, her voice lacking the necessary conviction.

    "Huh." Elaine adopted a bored look and threw herself back on the couch. "Go get me something to drink, would you, honey?" She pasted a hopeful look on her face as she batted her lashes at her husband.

    "What do I look like?" Rick grumbled. "Why don't you go get it?"

    "In a word? No." She looked at Buffy with her eyebrows arched. "Something happened in there today. and if Buffy won't go into her kitchen, there's no way I am going in her kitchen. So, please?"

     Rick just sighed in resignation and headed for the kitchen.

    Spike decided to follow Rick into the kitchen more than eager to escape, and the palpable tension in the room suddenly eased with the vampire's departure.

      With an irritated sigh, Buffy lowered herself onto the couch. This was it. She knew there was no way she could do the avoidy thing anymore, not with Willow and Xander here. The unfairness of it all struck her once more, and she felt her temper flare.

    Yes, she had missed her friends. Yes, she had missed her Watcher and mother. But... she had not missed her calling and the pressure she'd had to endure because of it. None of them could ever know how much this last year had meant to her, and now here they were, intent on taking it all away. The best thing that had ever happened to her, and she knew they were going to make her choose. Well, they weren't going to like her choice, that much was for sure.

    With a pained sigh of inevitability, Buffy gestured Xander and Willow further inside the cozy comfort of her home, gritting her teeth at the put upon attitude of Xander, who was clearly wondering why the rude woman and her husband weren't leaving.

    When everyone was seated in the now crowded living room, Buffy called out, "Hey Spike, coffee would definitely be of the good here... Could you make it?"

    "Bloody hell! Am I the soddin barmaid here?"  Spike snarled in response, but the sounds of coffee preparations were soon heard.

    Xander opened his mouth to retort, but the harsh look Giles tossed in his direction had Xander's mouth snapping shut before a word was uttered.

    "So... what happened in the kitchen today?" Elaine asked pointedly, her curiosity still piqued.  The aura of dread surrounding her friend did not go unnoticed either, and it set Elaine's teeth on edge as to the possibilities.

    "What part of 'trying to repress' did you NOT understand, Elaine?"

    Not one to give up, Elaine kept her unwavering stare focused on her friend. But Buffy held firm, pursing her lips together and shaking her head in juvenile defiance.

    "Buffy was protecting all mankind from the threat of nesting rodents," Spike supplied derisively, coffee mug in one hand, beer bottle firmly gripped in the other. He handed the mug to the thus far silent Joyce, and glared at the others. "You lot want coffee, you can get off your asses and go get it."  He squeezed next to Buffy on the couch, pulling her against him.

    "Yeah, like I'd really trust something you had a hand in making," Xander shot off, returning the glare from across the room.

     "Oh good lord," Giles muttered, getting up to replenish his drink from the bar. A pounding in his temple was beginning to make its presence known.

    "OH MY GOD!" Elaine exclaimed before anybody else could respond. "And you call yourself Buffy's friend?"

    "The name is Xander. And excuse me, but this is kind of personal business, so maybe you should like... butt out, Miss. Buttinksi." Xander's tone was belligerent as he glared across the room.

    "Personal business, my ass. YOU'RE making it personal by attacking my friend."

    Xander scoffed. "I never attacked Buffy."

    Elaine narrowed her eyes. "I'm talking about SPIKE."

    "Please... you call Spike a friend? He's a killer. Did you know that? That Spike's one of those things that kill people?" Xander shot back.

    Elaine jumped to her feet and placed her hands on her hips as she coolly regarded the idiotic bigot in front of her.  "I am well aware of what Spike is, Microbe."

    Rick came sauntering into the room. "Elaine, don't pick on the children."

    Elaine turned flashing eyes on her husband. "He started it."

    Rick turned his eyes upward. "Why me..." he felt the need to ask the ceiling.

    Spike was enjoying himself.  The look of pure outrage on the whelp's face was priceless, and Elaine's defense of him made him feel bubblier than he'd ever admit to.  Not usually one to let others fight his battles, this was one that was too entertaining to interrupt.

    "This is none of your business, whoever you are," Xander continued. "Where I come from, we stake vampires."

    "You know what? You really need a lesson in manners, Microbe Boy." Elaine began spooling up to deliver her rebuttal when she felt Buffy's hand on her arm.

    "Elaine, it's ok."

    "No, Buffy, it's NOT ok!"  Elaine glared at Xander. "Your supposed friends come in and all they have managed to do is insult you."

    "I NEVER insulted Buffy," Xander interrupted.

    "Hello, you insulted Spike, what the hell do you think that is?"

    "Telling the truth?" Xander replied righteously.

    "Xander!" Joyce, Willow and Giles called out in reproach.

    Xander turned incredulous eyes in their direction, before narrowing them on Buffy's Watcher. "Oh my god, I don't believe it. You accept this. YOU. We've been worried about her for a year, and all this time, she's been with HIM. From one vampire's bed to another, I guess."

    "Xander, do sit down and shut up." Giles commanded wearily, his headache intensifying.

    Elaine looked at Buffy, shaking her head in disgust. "Can I slap him? No wait! Can Spike eat him? Please!"

    "A world of no," Buffy replied, the anger that was working its way to the surface fleeing in light of Elaine's words.

    "Oh come on!" Buffy shook her head. "You're no fun," Elaine pouted.

    "Yes, he can just go and eat everyone else in this town," Xander commented snidely, his face splotched with anger.

    Giles had a sudden case of deja vu, and realized this is exactly how he must have sounded. Heaving a pained sigh, he acknowledged, "The people of this town are quite safe from Spike, Xander. And I do wish you would sit down and shut up. Your prattle is giving me quite a headache."

    Elaine looked at the older British man in shock.  "Whoa. What did you do with the other stuck-up tight ass that was here last night?"

    "Well, it would appear that cleaning up chopped rodent remains is a good method in discovering the truth," Giles announced cryptically, his lip curling in distaste as he recalled the task from earlier.

    "Ewww!" Elaine cried, her nose turning up delicately. "Buffy, what did you do???"

    "Hello? Repressing? Ring a bell?"

    "Yes, I don't think I care to... rehash those events," Joyce announced.

    "So, uh... did you manage to decide what we're going to do about Angel?" Willow broke in, anxious to change the subject.  Rodent remains -in whatever form- gave her that queasy feeling in her stomach that was so not of the good.

    Two blonde heads swung in her direction, shock clearly outlined on both faces. Willow quickly realized her mistake.

    "Oops."

    Buffy's face turned cold. "What do you mean 'Angel?'

    "I uh..you know..." Willow floundered, looking desperately over at Giles.

    The headache was now excruciating, and Giles massaged his temple as he contemplated the best way to proceed.

    "Giles? What is Willow talking about?"

    Another pained sigh was exhaled, and Giles began to attempt an explanation. "This is what I wished to discuss with you Buffy, if you will recall. However, you wished to know nothing about my business here."

    "Yeah, I get that. It's my fault. Continue." The chill had not left Buffy's voice.

    "A month ago, Angel returned," Giles began.

    "Is it Angel or Angelus, mate?" Spike interrupted, trying to contain the fury in his voice. He glanced at his mate, relieved to see her face contained only a cold determination rather than the emotional upheaval he was afraid he would find.

    Giles removed the glasses off his face in a gesture that was very familiar to Buffy.  "Well, neither of them, actually."

    "Huh?"

    tbc...

sorry about the cliffie, this was a time issue, not a "let's taunt the readers" issue.  thank you to Megan for beta'ing this chapter for me!! Trying to proofread while having children attempt conversation is not the best way to go about it!!!

Thank you to Spikeslovebite for beta'ing this chapter!

Chapter 13

    "What I mean to say is, we have been unable to discern whether the soul is intact or not," Giles clarified. "Angel has remained in a highly feral state since he was returned."

    "Returned?" Buffy asked warily, her body tense.

    "Yeah, pretty much returned like an overdue library book or something," Willow commented. "One minute, we were sitting in the library doing the research thing; the next... POOF! One very wild vampire delivered in the middle of the room.  We've all been making with the research, but so far...." She shrugged helplessly.

    "You forgot the part where he dropped disgusting and butt naked in the middle of the floor," Xander injected a bit too vehemently.   

    "Hello! Buffy's not the only one trying to repress certain things!" Willow cried, her face turning crimson.

    "So..." Buffy looked at Giles, "you're here... because Angel came back, is that it?"

    Another heavy sigh was expelled from the Watcher's lungs.  "Buffy, we're here because honestly, we've exhausted all outlets available to us.  The Council has been sniffing around-"

    "They don't know about Angel?" Buffy interrupted.

    "No, they do not.  Without having knowledge of why he was returned in such a manner, I felt it remiss of me to turn him over to the Council.  My instincts were telling me to stake the murdering bastard," Giles's face hardened with his harsh words, "but something else has been telling me that I would be making a very grave error if I did so. I believe at the very least, I need to know what occurred that last night."

    Both Spike and Buffy tensed simultaneously, looking to the other for support. In a flat voice, Buffy responded, "Angelus and I fought, he got his soul back, and I sent him to hell by sticking a sword through his gut. The end."

    Gasps echoed throughout the room. "Oh, Buffy...." her mom murmured, her face stricken with belated pain for her daughter.

    "I dealt with it. It's over." The look that Spike and Buffy shared did not go unnoticed.

    "How did you hook up with the Evil Incarnate here?" Xander asked, tense with self righteous anger. "Did you kill his psycho ho-bag or something? Or did she just suddenly see the light and dump his ass?"

    "Xander!" Willow shouted, slapping his arm. She could feel the temperature in the air chill by several degrees, something that had nothing to do with the cold weather outside.

    "What? Like you weren't wondering?"

   Buffy's face was dangerous as she beheld her old friend. "Spike accidentally staked her during the fight, and if you say another word about it, I will let Spike eat you."

    Xander was blown away by the vehemence that flew off his friend, and he didn't miss the flash of pain that crossed the vampire's face at his words. Finding himself oddly chagrined, he mumbled an apology.

    "Ok, while this is all sorts of irritating, it is getting nothing accomplished." Spike fixed a contemplative look on Giles. "I'm guessin' you didn't come all this way for just a  spot of advice, so why don't you just get on with it?"

    Giles cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "Yes, well... as I said, Angel has been back for a month now, and no progress has been made with his, er, rehabilitation."

    "And that means.... what?" Buffy asked.

    "He's still all fangy and grr...." Willow supplied, "but he seems to be trying to say something, just keeps making with the same growlies and stuff. We've been keeping him chained up at the, uh, mansion. I guess we were, uh, thinking that you could have better success at figuring out what he wants," she finished lamely, apology evident in her green eyes.

   Spike tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, briefly allowing his eyes to close in frustration. "Buffy won't be able to get through to him," he bit out.  

    The Watcher and his mate were the only ones who didn't look at him in confusion. "For whatever reason, only the demon is in control. Think the soddin' Slayer is going to be able to carry on a conversation with the monster? Not bloody likely."

    "And like you can," Xander said scornfully.

    "As a matter of fact, yes. What? You think you humans are the only ones worthy of having your own language? Bloody lot you know."

    "I knew Angel was trying to tell us something!" Willow said enthusiastically.

    "Don't suppose you tried to soul him up again, did ya?"

    Willow nodded. "I think the spell was wonky though, because nothing happened. No 'poof' or anything."

    Spike sighed at that comment. "What are you thinking?" Buffy whispered to him, already having some idea.

    Spike gave Buffy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm thinking that Angel is buried in there somewhere, but the demon is too strong."

    Buffy nodded in agreement, her mind spinning on the significance of that.

    Xander held up his hand in protest. "Hey! Whispering in front of the guests? Not good on the politeness front." 

    Elaine arched one well-groomed eyebrow at Xander's complaint. "Guest?"

    "Ok, maybe not so much, but still. It's rude."

    Spike ignored the boy's complaint and directed his attention to Giles, who was massaging his temple with his fingertips.  "You need a vamp for this, Watcher."

    Giles raised his eyes quizzically to meet Spike's determined gaze. "Are you quite certain?"

    Spike snorted at that statement. "yeah, think I bloody well am."

    "I should have tried the soul spell again," Willow babbled, "maybe it would have worked a second time."

    "Nah, you did fine, Red." Spike looked at Buffy, giving her a lopsided smile that was full of meaning. "Guess we're headed back to Sunnyhell after all, pet."

~~~~~~~~

    The journey back to Sunnydale wasn't wrought with the raw, naked emotion that the long drive east had expelled from their mental well being; but it was far from stress free.  The group traveled by plane, taking advantage of the red-eye flight schedule that would keep the harmful rays from touching Spike.

    There were hurt feeling  and scathing remarks when Buffy and Spike insisted on traveling in separate sections from the Sunnydale group, but Joyce saw the desperation behind the seemingly uncaring request and put an end to the blustering. It didn't take much to realize that her daughter and Spike needed the time to themselves and Joyce was determined to give it to them.

    Upon reaching Sunnydale, Spike could finally feel the whisperings to his senses that screamed "family." His sense of worried anticipation increased, but the soothing touch of Buffy did much to quell his growing nervousness. She was with him, that he knew. Whatever was to occur, Spike was secure in the knowledge that Buffy was his.

    Buffy found Sunnydale not changed a bit in the year  she had been away. The elaborate normality that effected the town welcomed her back with open arms, but Buffy resisted the alluring pull. This wasn't her town anymore. She didn't belong here.

    Dawn was swiftly approaching as the weary group pulled up in front of the house that Buffy used to call her home.  Even though Giles was anxious to explore the possibilities that Spike had brought up, he knew it was foolish to expect anyone to rush into anything without some sleep.

    Ignoring Xander's loud complaints, Giles dropped Joyce and her daughter off, along with the vampire that called Buffy 'his wife.' Giles was surprised to find that he had little trepidation in doing so, instinctively knowing that the two women would not come to any harm in the demon's presence.  Buffy had, after all, been co-existing with the vampire for a year.

    The next twenty-four hours would be most telling, and Giles was quite anxious to get on with things. However, he drove himself wearily home to get some much needed rest, his own unease growing at the sense of the unknown.

tbc. 

a/n sorry about the delay here!! I HOPE to be more update-y, but my muse kinda took a dive when my friend Kari Mouke left the fandom *sobs* Thank you for all the wonderful reviews you've given me! If I haven't responded back, I'm sorry. I have this BAD habit of saving the mail as new to respond to later and then it just seems to turn invisible. *sighs* I seriously appreciate all the support!! *hugs you all*

Thank you to Spikeslovebite for the quick beta job!!!

Chapter 14

    A scant eight hours later, the group re-convened at the mansion on Crawford Street. Giles was relieved to note the good health in which Joyce arrived, while shooting Xander warning looks regarding the thoughtless, snide remarks about housing a demon. Quite frankly, it was wearing on him, but he knew Xander was not about to let it rest.

    When Spike and Buffy arrived moments later, the mood was decidedly tense. The sewer tunnels had leant safe passage from the strong rays of the sun, yet Buffy couldn't help but express a few choice comments about the stench. The warm heat of the sun was something almost as foreign to her as it was to Spike, and Buffy found herself  longing for the cold, crisp New England weather.  The temperate sunny winter of Sunnydale just seemed... wrong somehow. 

    Slightly on the smoldering side but no worse for wear, Spike dove through the wide double doors leading into the large front room of the mansion. He offered Joyce a smile in greeting and tipped his head in acknowledgment to Giles, but steadfastly ignored the others present.

    Not that Buffy blamed him, of course.  The baleful, resentful looks that both Xander and Willow were shooting his way set her teeth on edge.  She could see the hurt just rippling off of them; the knowledge that she had embraced an evil vampire while keeping them at arms length had caused a myriad of hurt feelings and bitterness.  However, Buffy did not feel inclined to remedy that situation any time soon.  Change had occurred in the year she had been gone, and at the very least, her priorities and loyalties had gone through a metamorphosis.  Buffy realized that there had been no maturation as far as her Sunnydale friends went, and a pang of sadness went through her at this realization. She had grown up -they hadn't.

    A familiar figure emerged through one of the side doors, and Buffy found her lips curling up in an instinctive smile. There was little about him that seemed changed, and she found herself buoyed by the utter normalcy. Well, if blue hair could be considered normal.  "Hey Oz.  Long time with the no see-age."

    "Buffy."  Oz nodded his head in greeting.  "Welcome."

    Buffy's smile widened at his words.  His greeting spoke volumes. Here was one person who hadn't just assumed she was 'back home.'  

    "So how is, er... Angel?" Giles asked.

    Oz shrugged his shoulders, his face showing a hint of compassion.  "Not eating, not talking. The same."

    "Dear lord," Giles mumbled, shaking his head in consternation. The condition they were likely to find the vampire sparked images of unspeakable horror.  The vampire had not been faring well upon his departure, and Giles knew what lay behind the door was only bound to be worse.

    Spike shot his head up at Oz's statement, his eyes hardening with realization. "He hasn't been feeding?"

    "No. We have thus far been unable to entice him to feed," Giles revealed. "Either animal blood or human blood. It fails to provoke a reaction aside from a slight increase in growling and agitation."

    "Yeah. Keep hoping he'll just one day go 'poof', but sadly..." Xander let his sentence trail off, remembering the company he was now in. At the low growl that was directed his way, Xander  gripped the stake he held securely in his hand with fierce determination.

    "Xander, what are you doing with that stake?" Buffy's voice was mild and even; thus ten times more lethal than if she had shrieked at him at the top of her lungs.

    Xander brought himself up defiantly. "Last time I looked, I was in the company of vampires. As in, plural. Not really seeing the need to explain myself here."

    "Xander!" Willow hissed, shooting nervous looks in Spike's direction.

    "Xander, do shut up," Giles declared, his voice clearly heralding the irritation felt around the room. "Spike, is there some significance to his lack of hunger?"

    Spike snorted, barely keeping a hold of the mixed- yet torrential- feelings that had overwhelmed him the second he had entered the mansion. Memories had their own way of sneaking through even the staunchest of intent, digging and clawing until they threatened to devour every last reserve. His hold on Buffy tightened, and he could tell by the tenseness of her normally pliant muscles that the memories were not being kind to her either.  He ignored the disgusted look on the boy's face when Buffy melded herself into his embrace, and the urge to kill his first human in a year became practically overwhelming.

    "Yeah, it's significant," Spike finally got out.

    "Would you mind elaborating?" Giles asked, peering at him with curiosity.

    "Thought it'd be obvious to you, being a Watcher and all."

     A flicker of irritation passed across Giles's face before being quickly tamped down. "An explanation would be appreciated, Spike."

    "Please! He's just blowing smoke out of his ass. He doesn't know a thing," Xander complained loudly, his words sounding whiney and ridiculous even to his ears.  His brain and mouth seemed to be unattached, like two separate parts of his body. Sometimes even he was surprised at what was spewed from his lips.

    A clenched jaw and corded neck muscles were the only outward signs that Spike heard the complaints across the room.

    "Xander, one more unnecessary remark such as that, and you can kindly take yourself home." There was a hint of Ripper in the glare that was sent in the teen's direction.

    Xander slouched down, properly put in his place. His face held a sullen, mulish look that even Willow found irritating. She had to give Spike credit for not going all 'grrr' on Xander because even she had to fight the urge to slap her friend.

    "Spike?" Giles prompted once more, eager to hear the vampire's assessment over the lack of feeding. "The significance, if you will?"

    "The significance is that it kind of clues you in there that it's Angel behind the wheel."

    Giles's eyes widened at this revelation. "How so?"

    Spike shook his head at the Watcher's ignorance. "Really, Rupert. You Council members have got to get your asses out of the books and learn a few things. Tell me... has he been violent or pretty much whipped puppy dog?"

    "Er... he has been fairly easy to manage."

    "Right. Soul having."

    "How does that make it clear to you?"

    Spike rolled his eyes. "The demon is basically a wild animal, Rupert. Its sole purpose for existing is for death and destruction. It's the man that gives it the mannerisms of a human, but it's a soul that gives back the ability to decide between right and wrong. If it was Angelus that was sent back in his most primal state, there is one thing you can be bloody well sure of. Either the lot of you would be dead or he'd be blowing in the wind. No maybe about it.  It's the soul that's been refusing to eat, not the demon."

    "Well, that makes more sense than anything I've been able to hypothesize," Giles announced, his eyebrows pinching together in concentration.

    Spike watched the wheels spinning in the Watcher's brain while trying to suss out his own emotions. After the initial anger had dissipated, the next reaction to hearing the news of his grandsire's apparent resurrection was fear; mind-numbing panic that everything good that had happened during the past year would be swept away with one mighty crook of the Poof's finger. Then he had summoned up the courage to look in Buffy's eyes and what he found there had humbled him. He saw her love, her passion, her utter devotion to him. Him. Spike. William the Bloody. Not Angel.  Buffy would never would be for Angel again. She was his.

    He took the opportunity to look once more into her eyes, and felt a small measure of relief when he saw no change in her response to him.  Buffy's green eyes still glittered brightly with compassion and love, and she gave him a small smile that spoke volumes. Yes, he could do this. Whatever happened with Angel, Spike knew he would not have to deal with competing for Buffy's attention. Buffy loved him, and the total abandonment with which she continued to show him her love never ceased to amaze him. Not for the first time, Spike thanked whatever divine intervention that was responsible for drawing them together.

    Spike could feel the presence of family close by and was suddenly compelled to be reunited with the only other member of their family that remained, now that Drusilla, Darla and the Master were no longer walking the earth. It had only occurred to him once that he was the last of his line; Head of the legendary Line of Aurelius. Oddly enough, it hadn't even rated a second consideration. That wasn't who he was anymore; or more telling, who he wanted to be.

    "Where is he?" Spike asked, more out of courtesy than anything-more than capable of sniffing out Angel. 

    "He's chained up in the master bedroom," Giles supplied.

    "Chained?" Buffy asked. "I thought you said he was easy going."

    They all ignored Xander's snort. "I said easily managed, Buffy. However, as I stated at your house, he has not changed out of his vampiric face since we found him. We felt it was the safest thing for all of us if we kept him contained."

    Without further clarification, Giles led them towards the door that Oz had emerged from. Spike and Buffy drew up the rear, the feeling of trepidation growing with each passing step. The air seemed to thicken with desolation the closer they got, and as the door was opened, the smell of dank decay swept out to greet them.

    "I know this smell...." Buffy whispered, trying to lighten the mood. She knew Spike well enough to know that he was seriously disturbed. "It smells like our house."

    Spike's answering snort assured her that her goal had been somewhat obtained. But what they saw before them quickly wiped away all hint of humor.

    It didn't even look like Angel. That was the one thought that gripped them both, each struggling with their remnant feelings for the vampire. This... thing resembled nothing even close to the tall, self-assured specimen of their memories.

    He was chained to the far wall; thick, heavy links attached to wide manacles clamped on his wrists that ensured his continued captivity. But from what Buffy and Spike could see, this thing posed no threat.

    "How long has he been here?" Buffy asked, her voice thick with horror.

    "I told you, Buffy. A month," Giles supplied, now having visual confirmation that the vampire's condition had declined since he last saw him.

    There was no sign at all that Angel was aware of their arrival. He sat huddled on the tattered cot that was the only piece of furniture within his range. Even with all of his limbs drawn in and his head down, Buffy could see that Angel was in a state far past emaciation. What she could see of the bowed face showed a severe degree of gauntness; the supernatural ridges that lined his forehead jutting out in obscene contrast to the hollow cheeks, his fangs bared against bloodied, cracked lips. There were cartons of congealed animal blood scattered about the floor, seemingly untouched.

    Buffy had thought Spike's self-imposed starvation during their drive across the United States had educated her regarding the physiological effects of a vampire not drinking blood. 

    But obviously there were far greater effects to be experienced in response to long term denial.

    There was little flesh covering the boney frame on the bed; a far cry from the robust vampire she had sent to hell. What flesh was in evidence had a sickeningly petrified appearance, grey in pallor.  Images of mummies flashed through Buffy's head, as she searched for any sign that this was Angel.

   
    Instead of the usual carefully styled wall of hair, his locks sported a month of neglect; matted and dirty, hanging over his shoulders. Or it could have been a year of neglect, Buffy realized, noting the changed length.

    He looked dead. As in, REALLY dead. Buffy nearly gagged at the stench of decay and the smell of unwashed vampire. He could just as easily been a corpse; intricately displayed on the cot... except for the low growls and grunts that rumbled from his sunken, boney chest.

    "How do you know it's him?" Buffy whispered to Giles.

    "His er, tattoo."

    Buffy nodded, tears springing to her eyes. Spike squeezed her hand and she looked to him for support, seeing the compassion and worry mirrored back at her.

    "We have to fix him," she murmured, eyes beseeching. 

    Buffy gave a slight sigh of relief at the curt nod that Spike offered her in response.

    He may not like his grandsire, but he knew what needed to be done. Like the Watcher had said, there was something whispering in the back of his mind that to allow the death of the poof would be very bad indeed. After living with Drusilla for a century, he knew that sometimes those little voices had something important to say.

    Then the creature on the cot lifted his head, dead, expressionless eyes turned in their direction. A small flicker of awareness shone for just a second before being extinguished, and the creature growled loudly.

  Spike growled back.

    tbc....

Chapter 15
    It seemed like an eternity as the two creatures of the night held each other's penetrating gaze. Spike's demon had slid forward the moment Angel had called to him. He may like to think he was a man, but underneath it all, he was at the mercy of the ancient, mystical forces that had mated man and demon; thus creating the first vampire.
 
    Angel's call to him had been primal; filled with despair and regret, leaving Spike with the bereft knowledge that no matter what past transgressions had occurred between them; he would now do anything in his power to help the other vampire. Armed with the instinctive knowledge that the older vampire wanted his slow suicide sped up, Spike couldn't help but have his determination reaffirmed. That little niggling voice in his head would not leave him alone.
 
    Angel could not die. It was as simple as that.
 
    When Angel tipped his head once more in silent submission, a telling event  in itself-Angel had never allowed himself to become submissive to his grand-childe. Spike turned to Giles. 
 
    "Need to talk to you about a few things, mate."
 
    The term 'mate' did not go unnoticed by the Watcher, knowing instinctively it was not just a flippant term but rather a white flag in the face of adversity.  
 
     Giles nodded his head in a curt decisive manner and turned to the others.
 
    "Joyce, would you be so kind as to take Willow and Xander home?"
 
    The anticipated loud protestations soon ensued, causing Joyce and Giles to share an aggravated look over their heads.
 
    "I'll take them home," Oz announced calmly, reaching for his girlfriend's hand.
 
    "Thank you, Oz," Giles returned, his respect for the werewolf rising with each level-headed encounter. If only it had been Oz who had befriended Buffy on that first day of school rather than Xander.... Events most likely would have taken a much different course entirely, he thought wryly.
 
    Giles had to respect the way Oz herded Willow and Xander out, trying to take note of the subtle yet highly effective maneuvering skills he utilized. When the door to the mansion had slammed shut in a theatrical manner, Giles sighed with relief.
 
Looking at Joyce, then at Spike, Giles asked, "What did you wish to speak about?"
 
Spike's mouth flattened to a grim line as he shook his head. "Need to talk to Buffy first."
 
    Without waiting for a reply, Spike grabbed Buffy's hand and drew her out of the room.  When they had obtained a small measure of privacy, he gathered her carefully into his arms, a slight edge of paranoia still gripping him at having his girl in such close contact with the big poof.
 
    He needn't have worried though. Buffy clung to him, allowing her tears to fall. But they were not the tears of a lover, even Spike could discern that. They were merely the tears of sadness over the misfortune of someone who still held a small place in her heart.
 
    "We have to do something," Buffy whispered, now aware that her mother and Giles had entered the room and were eyeing them with impatience.
 
    "Yeah, I know." Both of them knew what was going to be necessary to get the other vampire on the path towards health, and Buffy suddenly wished her mom and Giles were not there. Things would be so much easier without them.
 
    Buffy turned in Spike's embrace to face the two intruding adults. She was willing to cut them some slack, seeing how affected they were as well. Buffy found herself surprised that her Watcher hadn't staked Angel on sight, and voiced that thought.
 
    "As I told Spike, there was something that was not allowing me to carry through with my initial intent, no matter how strong the desire was,” Giles replied in agitation.
 
    Spike nodded his head.  "Yeah, Getting that same feelin'."
 
    Giles looked at him curiously, the implications astounding. "So... you think there is some... supernatural force at work here?"
 
    Spike snorted. "Well, can pretty much tell you my last feelings were that I hated the bloody bastard.  Shouldn't be entertaining these thoughts of seeing the wanker all fleshed out, ya know? So yeah, I'm thinking something else is going on here."
 
    Wrinkles appeared on Giles's forehead as his brow furrowed with the implication that they were dealing with an unknown that had the capability of altering their emotions. 
 
    "Yes, well, we may not even have a problem if we are unable to get Angel to feed," Giles finally announced in a tired voice.
 
    "I can get him to feed.”
 
    Giles looked at him sharply. "Yes, I am certain that you could. But... I was under the impression that vampires required LIVING blood in which to obtain nourishment. I do not believe your blood will suffice."
 
    A barely discernable look passed between Buffy and Spike, one that filled Giles with a sick feeling of dread. "No. I cannot allow this."
 
    "It's none of your business, Giles," Buffy said softly, her entire body going rigid.
 
    "What?" Joyce asked in confusion. This is not what she had signed up for when she decided to have children, she thought with irritation. Demons and starving vampires.... Whatever happened to normal things like football games and broken curfews?
 
    Silence met her probing question. Joyce's eyes narrowed as they landed on the Watcher. "I'd like an answer to my question, please."
 
    Giles ripped his glasses off in consternation and focused his attention on getting the already spotless lenses even more so. "Er, Spike is suggesting that Angel be allowed to feed from him."
 
    "And what's the problem with that?"
 
    Again silence greeted her confusion, no one quite willing to meet her eyes.
 
    Joyce sighed with irritation then looked at the one person who she knew would supply her with the answer everyone else already possessed. "Spike?"
 
    Spike spared a quick look at Buffy who studiously ignored his gaze as she picked at non-existent lint on her sweater.  "I'll be feeding from Buffy first. That's the problem that ol' Rupert has."
 
    Joyce's gasp was immediate, outrage and concern brimming to the surface.
 
    "We will find another way," Giles said flatly.
 
    "Don't be a git," Spike announced loudly.
 
    Buffy found herself rolling her eyes at Giles’ return to Stick-Up-the-Butt land. "Geez, Giles!  He's not going to hurt me or anything! And it’s not like this will be the first time his fangs have been me either," she reminded.
 
    Giles cringed, not wanting to hear intimate details of Spike's protruding body parts sticking into his Slayer.  Still, he knew she had a valid point and he was just letting his own prejudice get in the way of a very sound solution to Angel's feeding problems.  "Very well, Buffy.  Assuming you know what is best in this case, I will bow to your superior knowledge.  However, I must insist on standing guard."
 
    "The hell you will!" Spike yelled in outrage. “Not runnin’ a bloody peep show here, Watcher!”
 
    Buffy's eyes rolled of their own accord once more. "Spike, chill.  Giles, believe me when I tell you, it is so not necessary."
 
    "I don't think I'm comfortable with this either," Joyce said with a frown.
 
    Spike's jaw tensed and his eyes flashed with a surprising sense of betrayal. When he felt one small, but powerful hand on his forearm, he turned to look into her pleading eyes and his escalating resentment eased.
 
    "They don't know you like I do," Buffy told him softly.
 
    Spike looked over to where her mum and the Watcher were watching them with undisguised curiosity and cursed silently. From the look of determination on Rupert's face and the fear shadowing Joyce eyes, Spike knew privacy was not going to be an option here.
 
    Buffy looked at her mom and tried once more. "You guys can go. Really."
 
    To Buffy's chagrin, her mom pulled more tears on her. "Oh Buffy... I just can't leave you here with even the slightest hint of danger… I just can't bear the thought of losing you again."
 
     Buffy turned to Spike with a helpless look on her face, and he just shrugged. 
 
    Buffy sighed. "Alright, fine." She gave them both a hard look.  "But no interruptions, ok? And don't... say anything."
 
    Turning back to Spike, she jutted her chin out with determination. “So…we doing this or what?”

   
    A wicked grin slid over Spike’s handsome face. “Oh yeah, we’ll be doing… it, alright.”

 
    Buffy shot him a warning look then angled her head to the side bravely, bunching her hair in a loose ponytail with one hand to keep it out of fangs way.
 
    "Oh no, not doing it like that, Buffy," Spike said in a low dangerous voice that Buffy knew very well. With wicked intent, he planted his hands firmly on her shoulders and guided her purposefully backwards until her butt hit the wall on the opposite side of the room where her mother and Giles insisted on keeping watch.
 
     "You know how you get," he whispered seductively in her ear.
 
    Already squirming, Buffy shot him a dirty look. "Don't you dare start anything with my mother standing right there!"
 
    "Don't have to start anything," Spike replied smugly. "Just have to do this." A low, rumbling purr sounded from his chest, and Spike rubbed his cheek against her ear to make sure she got the full affect.
 
    Buffy's head dropped back and hit the wall. "Oh, so not fair! You made with the purries."
 
    Slowly easing his body against hers so she was trapped against the wall, he lowered his head to lightly sniff her neck, alternately blowing short bursts of cool air over the promised site. Buffy's eyes closed against their will and she sighed with anticipation.
 
    "I know how to get your motor revvin, Buffy," he purred into her ear.
 
    "Good lord, do you have to turn this into such a...  production?" Giles complained loudly causing Buffy's head to jerk up, her face flooding with color. Spike had actually made her forget that there were spectators in the room.
 
    Spike turned his head around and leveled a harsh look on the Watcher. "If you don't soddin' well like it, you know where the door is. Not about to just bite her."
 
    "Rupert." Joyce's voice came through in quiet reproach and he whipped his head around to regard her.
 
    A silent battle of wills ensued until Giles finally heaved a weighty sigh and gestured to Spike to continue.
 
    When they turned back to the couple in question, a web of shock ensnared them both.
 
    Spike had wasted no time and now has his head positioned at Buffy's throat, the ridges of his demon clearly visible, the muscles of his throat contracting as he swallowed Buffy's life blood.
 
    But the surprising component was Buffy reaction. Her head was tossed back as it was earlier, but the abandoned ecstasy on her face painted a disturbing image of just how much she was enjoying Spike's ministrations.
 
    Her hands were clutching the leather lapels of his jacket and it was clear that the denim encased knee shoved between her legs and Spike's body pressed against her was the only thing keeping her upright.
 
    A low, rumbling sound reached their ears and Giles looked away in embarrassment.  Once again he had let his strict prejudices get in the way rather than trusting his Slayer and this particular vampire.  But a trustworthy vampire? It was a hard concept to wrap around his strict Council-ingrained brain. However, he was willing to work on it.
 
    Feeling rather like a voyeur, he took Joyce by the arm and led her outside, now willing to give his charge and William the Bloody the privacy they had requested; wishing he had done so in the first place.
 
    The look of acute pleasure on Buffy's face as Spike fed from her was one he could have done quite well without ever have seeing.    
 
TBC

This is a new chapter for this long neglected wip.
thank you to Spikeskat for betaing!

Chapter 16

Spike drank longer than he would have liked, the knowledge that his blood would be more healing for Angel with every drop that he took enough to keep his fangs embedded in her flesh far beyond his usual stopping point.

<i>But better for what?</i> he couldn't help but ask himself.

Ignoring his own throbbing need, Spike took pleasure in knowing that this blood sacrifice Buffy was making for her ex-lover came with its own brand of fulfillment; his jeans sure to be damp from the ferocity with which his girl had come after grinding mightily against his thigh.

And that was a bit of all right.

Especially in light of the struggle he was most likely going to be facing in getting Angel to feed, and again he wondered why he was even bothering.

But he knew. Just as he knew his love for Buffy was absolute, he was aware that something was tampering with his emotions, allowing him to see the situation in a different light. Otherwise he would have been reacting with all the protectiveness of his inherent impulsive nature, ready to shield Buffy against the threat of pain and heartache.

Not to mention a little bit of his own heart.

Except something was silencing those reactionary urges and shoving them into the background, allowing him to see circumstances in a more logical manner until it had made perfect sense; because without the events having played out exactly as they had while they had been in Sunnydale the previous year, Spike would never have wound up with Buffy in his life.

Knowing that, all he could feel was gratitude rather than the seething hatred he had harbored since that night the mighty Poof had been sent to hell. For the gift of Buffy, Spike was willing to endure whatever agenda that had caused Angel to be tossed back from eternal damnation.

Carefully removing his teeth from Buffy's neck, he pulled back just slightly to gaze deeply into her eyes. One hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face as he asked, "You ok?"

Buffy's smile was languid, if not a bit on the sappy side. "Oh yeah, you could say that."

Spike's smirk was pure ego. "Guess I don't need to ask if that was good for you then, eh?"

"That would be a no." Buffy looked around, forehead furrowing. "Where did my mom and Giles go?"

"They skipped out about the time you started getting it on with my thigh shoved between your legs," Spike replied with a lewd smile. He watched her flush a pretty color of crimson. "Hey, we did warn 'em."

"Yeah, I guess." Buffy's face turned serious. "So now what?"

Spike sighed, pushing himself away from the tempting softness that his own body was sandwiching against the wall. "Now, I need to get the git to take a bite out of me."

Buffy bit back the shard of jealousy that stabbed her at his words, not realizing the impact of its existence on Spike, who crushed her to him once more.

"I love you," he murmured against her hair.

"I love you, too," Buffy responded, tipping her head back to capture his lips in a quick, hungry kiss. "And just so we're clear on this, it's you I want."

Spike pulled back, scoffing. "Please, like I was even worried about that." At her pointed look, he added, "Ok fine, maybe a little."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like I'd want Angel back after everything we've shared this past year? Please."

The smile he gave her warmed her.

Drawing himself up with a sigh of resolution, Spike sent a quick glance in the direction of the room that had served as Angel's prison. His face hardened as he mentally prepared himself for the scene that was about to take place.

"Guess you'll be wanting me to stay here?" Buffy asked, studying his face.

His head jerked back and his eyes captured hers intently. "Yeah. Gonna have a hard time getting him to really let the demon out enough to go after me."

Buffy tipped her head quizzically. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're going to use me to piss him off."

Spike's lips curled up in a slightly smug smile. "Well, yeah."

Buffy threw her arms around his neck for a brief moment, resting her cheek against the familiar hard contours of Spike's chest. "Good luck," she announced simply, her eyes telling him all that he needed to know.

++++++

As Spike slipped through the door that kept his grandsire in imprisoned isolation, the odor of decay and filth once more assaulted him. Thankful that he didn't need to draw the pungent air into his lungs in order to survive, he kept a careful eye on the pitiful creature huddled in the corner of the master bedroom.

There was no reaction as the heavy door slammed shut behind him and Spike took a moment to adopt the bad ass demeanor that he had used as an emotional shield in his life before Buffy.

Approaching the bowed figure, the contemptuous curve of Spike's lips slid into place with little effort.

"Well now," Spike began, "Isn't this just pathetic."

A slight flinch was the only outward sign that Angel was even aware of his presence, much less his voice.

"The almighty Angelus allowing himself to wallow in filth? Never thought I'd see the day. You wear it well, I might add," Spike mocked, one hand reaching into the deep pocket of his duster for the familiar weight of his cigarettes. He paused to light one with an exaggerated snap of his lighter before continuing the necessary torment.

"So... even Hell got sick of listening to you, is that it? Can't say as I really blame them."

Spike studied the submissive vampire on the ground in front of him, taking a step forward to squat in front of his elder. He took a leisurely drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke deliberately into Angel's face.

"You've taken the tortured puppy-dog act and really run with it, haven't you?" Spike shook his head mockingly. "Bet you didn't expect to find Buffy not here. Must have come as quite a blow and all."

The mere mention of Buffy's name was enough to garner a response, and Spike knew he was on the right track. "Yeah, that was right convenient, let me tell ya. Because of that little stunt you tried by unleashing Hell on earth, your sweet little slayer was just ripe for the pickings."

A head topped with dirty, matted brown hair snapped up, the beginning vestiges of hatred beginning to simmer in the amber eyes that regarded Spike.

He smiled cruelly. "Yeah, ripe she was. I accidentally killed Dru, you know. You ruined everything that meant anything to me, you selfish prick. So the way I saw it? Taking your little slayer and breaking her was just a bit o' payback."

Spike fought back the nausea that swirled in his belly from referring to Buffy in such a crude fashion. It was just one more reminder of how much he had changed, and again, that knowledge refused to rile his demon. If he had been a different kind of vamp, more like Angelus, breaking Buffy would have been the reality.

But he wasn't like Angelus and never would be.

A rusty growl rumbled from the damaged vampire's chest, alerting Spike that his acting job was sufficient and he was getting through and pissing Angel's demon off. "What?" he asked mockingly. "Don't tell me that bothers you? You didn't seem to care when you were trying to run a sword through the bitch."

The growling grew louder and Spike knew it was just a matter of time - and words. "Glad you're back, by the way, so I can thank you for doing such a wonderful job of messing with the girl's head. Do you smell her on me?" Spike waved his hand - that had found its way between Buffy's legs earlier - under Angel's nose. "Got her dependant on the Big Bad. You got her so twisted in the head, all I had to do was come in and pretend to be there to pick up the pieces and your precious little slayer was all over me. Fucked her every night since."

Spike grinned at the smoldering fury that had built in Angel's eyes and was threatening to erupt. "And you know what the best part is? The bitch thanks me for it. Every night, I spread her sweet, little cunt open and pound her into the ground, and she thanks me for it." He shook his head in disbelief. "What a world."

The subsequent attack was expected. Angel may have been submissive earlier, but that was forgotten as he lunged at Spike with a savage snarl. If it even crossed Angel's mind why Spike was within striking distance, no heed was paid as the elder vamp attacked and sunk his fangs in Spike's throat, the demon desperate to reestablish control and punish his errant kin.

Spike was tackled backward, making no attempt to remove the vampire that had torn into his flesh, feeling the blood he had just taken from Buffy leaving his own body far quicker than it had entered. Spike knew once Angel realized he had been duped into feeding - with slayers blood, at that - it wasn't going to be pretty.

But for now, his mission had been accomplished. Angel was feeding, and Spike knew first hand the healing capacity of Buffy's blood.

"You pound me into the ground every night... and I thank you for it?" Buffy asked derisively from the doorway, arms crossed as she waited for them both to notice her presence.

tbc...
I based Angel's primitiveness on how he was when he came back in season 3. He didn't hurt Buffy, which really was at odds with the whole demon/soul thing.



 "You pound me into the ground every night... and I thank you for it?" Buffy asked derisively from the doorway, arms crossed as she waited for them both to notice her presence.

Chapter 17

Eyes wide with surprise, Spike's head jerked around at the sound of her voice, grimacing when the movement was accompanied with the pain of his skin tearing beneath Angel's fangs.

Buffy's eyebrow arched expectantly, and it was only the amused smile playing around her mouth that clued Spike in that she didn't begrudge him the crude words he'd used to get Angel enraged enough to attack.

"Yeah, you so wish," Buffy snickered, rolling her eyes at the lingering look of panic on Spike's face before he'd realized she wasn't damage-bound. He was so whipped, it was kind of cute, she thought fondly.

Spike read the expression on her face and opened his mouth to refute his whipped status when his attention was drawn back to the matter at hand - or rather, the vampire holding him down.

The sound of Buffy's voice had finally penetrated the rage-filled focus of what was currently functioning as Angel's brain, and with an anguished cry, the vampire in question tore his teeth from Spike's neck and frantically searched the room until his amber eyes fell on the girl whose virtue he now seemed determined to protect rather than destroy.

Time seemed to stand still as the thing that used to be her boyfriend devoured her with a yearning, savage look. Buffy searched the emaciated face with the overly-pronounced, ridged forehead for any hint of lucidity, watching as his body practically restored itself right before her eyes - thanks to the blood he had been duped into taking.

With a hard shove, Spike pushed Angel off of him and jumped to his feet; brushing off his leather duster in an unsuccessful effort to remove the filth that was sure to be ground in. "Disgusting," he muttered heatedly, swiping at one arm. He turned to glower at the vampire responsible when he caught sight of the guilt that burned in his transfixed stare. "Guess that answers the soul-having question," Spike remarked unnecessarily.

At the sound of Spike's voice, Angel growled a low warning and made a clumsy attempt to get to his feet. He made it no farther than his knees before the iron manacles around his wrists halted his progress. They watched warily as Angel's shoulders slumped dejectedly, the restrained limbs now hanging limply at his sides as he continued to regard Buffy with an almost disturbing reverence.

Spike and Buffy exchanged a brief look, wondering how this was going to play out. From across the room, it took her a moment to notice the rivulets of blood sliding down from the gaping holes that Angel had left in her husband's neck. But once she did, her entire focus shifted, immediately becoming one of concern.

"You're bleeding," she announced with a frown. Buffy stepped inside the doorway, intent on inspecting the damage up close.

Her concern toward Spike's well-being proved to be the catalyst that served to give Angel back his clarity.

Snarling fiercely, Angel moved with speed that neither thought possible, lurching against the chains that held him until they snapped, a loud clank echoing loudly throughout the room as they fell uselessly to the floor. Freed from his restraints, Angel lunged to intercept Buffy, determined to put himself between the slayer that he had wronged and the vampire who had used and abused her.

"No," he snarled, the word foreign and harsh from vocal cords that were rusty with disuse.

Buffy's forward motion ground to an immediate halt, and she looked over Angel's shoulder with a questioning look on her face. Spike merely shrugged, alerting her that it was going to be up to her. His part was done.

She rolled her eyes which prompted another growl from Angel. "It's ok, Angel," she attempted to explain, seeing the slight tinge of awareness return to his ridged features as her blood continued to heal his body.

But Angel ignored her attempts at placating him, shaking his head violently. "No," he repeated, his voice sounding stronger and more sure, his posture straightening as the primitive edge that had been dominating his brain began fading away. Buffy didn't know why "primitive" Angel was protective of her when "soulless" Angel had just wanted her dead, and realized she didn't particularly care.

Because right now, he was just in her way.

"Angel, Spike was just messing with you. He didn't mean what he said," Buffy tried to clarify, taking a careful step forward. "He didn't break me."

Spike snorted at that and Buffy pinned a determined look on him. "So not with the helping here, Spike."

Angel watched her face with a befuddled look. When his features smoothed out, Buffy was given the reassurance that they had accomplished the task that had sent Giles in a tizzy to find her. They had gotten through to him.

"B-Buffy?" Angel managed to get out, confusion furrowing his brow as his brain struggled to catch up.

Buffy sighed. "Yeah. Look, Spike didn't mean those... things... he said to you, ok?"

Angel took his eyes off her long enough to whip around in time and see Spike holding something to the angry holes in his neck, the large amount of blood Angel had taken from him creating his own healing deficit.

Buffy's eyes followed, needing to reassure herself that Spike was ok - but they quickly grew wide with outrage. "Is that my underwear you're using?" she gasped. "It is, isn't it?"

Spike had the good sense to look chagrined. "Well, yeah. It's all I have."

"And why do you have my underwear in your pocket?" she accused without thinking, mourning the loss of the pricey pair of silk panties that had a matching bra...

Her face flooded with color at the exact moment Spike tipped his eyebrow at her in lewd reminder of just when she had last worn that particular lingerie set.

And more importantly, when it had been bitten off her body in the back office at the bowling alley.

Angel turned back to her, his face bearing an even greater mask of befuddled misery. Buffy hurried to change the subject. "Anyway, as I was saying, Spike didn't mean those things he said about me. About us."

Angel's lip curled slightly, a growl rumbling from his throat. "Can... smell you."

The bright color returned to Buffy's cheeks. "Stupid vampires and their sense of smell," she muttered, not wanting to meet his gaze. Or that of the smug vamp behind him, for that matter.

"Don't know how you can smell anything over the stench in here," Spike commented, his own lip curling distastefully, but found himself enjoying Buffy's comely blushes - and the reasons behind them.

"Spike!" Buffy admonished, her head shooting up to send another glare in his direction.

"Wot? Just saying."

Footsteps in the hall outside created the very welcomed diversion, and Buffy actually was relieved at hearing Giles hesitantly approach the opened doorway.

"We're in here," Buffy alerted the watcher unnecessarily, thankful for the interruption. She wasn't trying to avoid talking about her relationship with Spike, she just didn't want to be with the explainy when Angel hadn't quite returned from his long-term residence on the wild side.

As Giles stepped into the room, his eyes widened appreciatively when he noted Angel's upright posture and the lack of demonic attributes. He still found the vampire on the skeletal side, but there was now a considerable change in the quality of skin that was stretched tautly over what used to be an adequate frame, the color no longer the mottled shade of true death.

"Angel," he greeted in a wary voice, making it sound more like a question than a welcome.

It didn't take Giles long to realize that he had interrupted something, the barely contained fury that surrounded the restored vampire almost a living and tangible thing. He was suddenly thankful that he'd had the foresight to have Joyce wait outside.

When his greeting went unanswered, Giles turned his attention to the other vampire present in the room, starting slightly when he took in his appearance. It was evident that the feeding had taken a toll on Spike as he beheld the way blood dripped from skin that was paler than it should have been - undead status aside.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably as the seconds ticked by, Giles inquired, "So, it was... er, successful?"
 

Thank you to the very awesome spikeskat for beta'ing!!

chapter 18
Clearing his throat uncomfortably as the seconds ticked by, Giles inquired, "So, it was... er, successful?"

Angel's bewildered stare leapt to encompass the watcher; the slowness of the vampire's clouded brain just beginning to supply the necessary information of who the newcomer was and his significance in Buffy's life.

"W-what... success?" Angel managed to get out, fists clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to maintain control of his temper and not succumb to the demon's ire.

Silence followed the question until the ridges began to erupt once more on Angel's substantial brow. A growl of irritation bounced off the high stone ceiling, clearly alerting the others that he was losing the battle

Spike headed past the emotionally labile vampire, stopping only when he had reached Buffy's side. Whatever enchantment he'd been under in regards to Angel was now thoroughly dissolved and he met the other vampire's murderous stare with one of his own.

"W-what success?" Angel growled again, his anger fueled by the acute need to have some of the blanks missing from his memory filled in.

It was Spike who finally answered him. "The success of putting humpty dumpty back together again so they could suss out why you got crapped out of hell, is what. You seem to have most of your precious few marbles back, so yeah. If that can be considered success."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike's remark, but didn't try to shush him. "We've got a lot to talk about," she told Angel simply, sparing him a small smile. "And to be honest, I'm not feeling so hot either, so maybe we can do this whole question and answer thing later?"

At her words, Angel's gaze flew worriedly over her slight form until he came upon the marks on her neck. Instinct took over as the full brunt of his demon burst from beneath his skin. He moved forward shakily, ready to ride to her rescue once more and save her from the threat of Spike, despite his own obvious lingering physical limitations.

A quick flick of Buffy's wrist stopped Angel in his tracks before he could reach her. "Just... back off, Angel. I don't need any more testosterone - or whatever it is that gets you vamps all grr and irrational," she informed him, eyes flashing "So this dumb male posturing? Get over it. Yes, Spike bit me."

There was no mistaking the menace in the snarl that was sent in Spike's direction.

"I said, back off!" Buffy repeated. She held his angry gaze for a moment before sighing heavily. "Look, Spike only drank from me so that he could piss you off enough to attack him and drink second-hand slayer." She watched dispassionately as Angel processed her words, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on him.

But damned if she could find it with herself to garner up a shred of sympathy.

"Yeah, that's right. Spike set you up. <i>We</i> set you up."

"He.. bit you," Angel insisted, glaring at the topic of conversation next to her. "Hurt you."

Hurt her? Not likely.

"No Angel, you hurt me. He saved me," she bit back, thoroughly disenchanted as well. Whatever empathy and remorse she'd felt at seeing him broken were gone, leaving her with the comforting knowledge that she'd been given back her true emotions. Because after she had gotten over the guilt of sending Angel to hell, this slow-dawning resentment towards him was of the familiar and hadn't wavered since she'd settled into the land of the unliving with Spike. She couldn't deny being relieved in seeing her ex-lover alert, but the desperation to aid him had long since faded.

Angel's features smoothed out only to leave a morose, tragic, expression in its place that was easily recognizable; Buffy having seen it multiple times before he had lost his soul. Instead of making her nostalgic, it only served to hammer home the rapid healing capacity of her blood.

At the reminder of her willing donation, Buffy began to seriously feel the effects of the sacrifice as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned to her watcher. "Giles, we're going to head back to the house."

Giles looked at her in surprise. "Now?"

"Yes, now. I'm tired. Spike's tired. And I can't really see any reason why we need to stay. You're well-armed," she informed him, gesturing to the crossbow he held competently in his hands.

"What about...er, Angel?" Giles sent a quick look in the vampire's direction, ignoring the confused glower he found there.

Buffy shrugged uncomfortably, knowing she should be feeling... something that Angel was back and on his way to recovery. But she just couldn't find that elusive compassion within herself beyond the generic consideration of his unexpected return.

"Tell him to go take a shower, I guess," she suggested blandly, grabbing Spike's free hand as another wave of dizziness struck unexpectedly.

"You ok?" Spike asked, his face tight with concern when he felt her sway against him.

Buffy nodded, reassuring him with a weary smile. "Yeah. Well, except my head that just keeps on spinning."

He nodded curtly, his own body mourning the loss of her blood. Knowing he needed to get her out of there, Spike turned without ceremony and led her towards the door; her ruined panties still clutched to his neck. He heard her sigh of relief as they passed through the doorway, the stench of neglect fading with every step they took.

"Buffy."

The sound of Giles calling her name halted them just outside the bedroom door.

Snarling, Spike spun around. "Look, she said she was tired, you git. You deaf or something?"

Giles sighed heavily. "No, Spike. I-"

"She's not staying here, got it?" Spike informed the watcher heatedly. "Besides, Hell took its giant vampire-shaped shit on your floor, not ours. Figure that that should be tellin' of something, this being the Hellmouth and all. Things don't happen like that for a reason."

Giles drew himself up, peeved at the unfounded interruption. "I was merely going to suggest some orange juice. She looks rather pale." There was a hint of accusation in his voice.

Spike immediately bristled. "Only did what had to be done," he announced coldly.

"I am well aware of that," Giles replied in a tired voice. "I sent Joyce to the butcher shop for more blood."

"No," Angel injected, his brain finally catching up with the quick paced conversation. "D-don't need anymore blood."

Giles turned to the rehabilitated vampire. "It isn't for you."

Angel blinked in confusion as he tried to comprehend the significance of that remark.

"We'll be at the house if you need us," Buffy announced quietly, allowing Spike to turn her in the direction of the front door.

Angel's head shook back and forth rapidly and another growl left his throat. "No."

Buffy's head whipped around, dark circles painting themselves beneath her eyes. She opened her mouth to once again attempt to communicate the reality of the situation when Giles beat her to it.

"Yes, Angel. They're leaving." Her watcher's intense gaze found hers and he gestured for them to go with a slight tip of his head.

Sending him a grateful smile, Buffy wasted no time in following Spike out of the mansion and toward the shaded manhole cover that led to the sewers and what used to be her home.

And Giles was alone with one significantly restored vampire that had, as Spike had accurately put it, been crapped from hell and dropped on his library floor.

And who really needed to take a shower.

tbc
Thank you to Spikeskat for beta'ing! Be advised - dull chapter ahead.


Chapter 19

Deep in her own personal musing, Joyce visibly started when the back door to her home was unexpectedly thrown open, and a smoldering, blanketed apparition barreled into her kitchen. Another time, this occurrence would have given Joyce more than a moment of panic. These days, however, it hinted at a normalcy that was becoming part of her life, especially when her daughter trailed in behind. It had been such a long time since she'd seen Buffy pass through that very door that tears of nostalgia pricked at the corners of her eyes.

Swallowing the lump that suddenly found its way into her throat, Joyce pasted on a bright smile.

"You're back sooner than I imagined. How is Angel?" she asked, searching Buffy's face for desperate reassurance that she had returned home unscathed. The corners of Joyce's mouth tipped downward when she noted her daughter's pale and exhausted countenance, eyeing the twin marks on her neck that were undoubtedly responsible for the unnatural pallor. Even though Joyce had been witness to the fact that it was obviously a mutually satisfying experience, the mere thought that Buffy had been bitten right in front of her was going to take some getting used to - regardless of the circumstances.

Buffy threw herself wearily onto one of the stools at the kitchen bar, watching as Spike stomped out the smoldering blanket. "He's... better," Buffy replied simply. "Do we have any orange juice?"

Joyce nodded, about to suggest that very thing to bring some color back to her daughter's cheeks. She turned to the refrigerator without sparing the smoky vampire a glance and searched for the six pack of Sunny Delight she had stashed a while back. With her head deep in the bowels of the fridge, Joyce heard Spike slide out the stool next to her daughter and suddenly remembered the blood she had picked up from the butcher’s before Buffy and Spike had arrived.

"Spike, I got you some blood, although you probably don't need it for a while," Joyce tossed over her shoulder, leaving the container where it was on the shelf. Finding the bottles she was searching for, Joyce removed one and stepped back from the open door, closing it before opening the bottle for Buffy.

"Oh, Spike, where are my manners? Did you want a Sunny Delight too?" Joyce pivoted and sent the vampire a questioning smile - only to have her mouth fall open with shock, an involuntary gasp leaving her lungs.

It soon became quite obvious to Joyce, who was not a stupid woman, that the bite that Spike had inflicted upon Buffy had been done with care, the scabs neat and tidy.

But Spike had obviously not been given the same consideration.

One side of his neck bore the tell-tale signs of a vampire bite, but it was nothing compared to the chaste matching holes that had been left in Buffy's throat. It almost looked like something had tried to take a chunk out of him, the barely closed-over wound resembling more the bite that a wild animal might make, rather than one supposedly from his own kind.

Joyce observed in horrified silence as Buffy fussed over the vampire, holding napkins to the ragged and bloody wounds in an attempt to get the slow trickle of blood finally ceased.

She suddenly felt nauseous.

"Could use a bit of the blood, if you don't mind," Spike told her, giving Joyce something to do besides look at the injury.

Joyce flinched at the sound of Spike's voice before getting control over her emotions, chiding herself for not having already offered it to him. She met his weary gaze with one of compassion before turning back to the refrigerator to remove the container she'd just left there.

Not knowing how to serve it to him, Joyce merely handed him the container, offering him a rueful smile. "My apologies, Spike. I don't know where my brain was."

"Not a problem," he assured her, removing the lid and gulping the contents down quickly.

Joyce couldn't help but observe him, pondering the surrealism of the entire situation. She had thought she had accepted the reality of Buffy's calling, and more recently, her choice in men, but apparently she hadn't quite come to terms. Because when Spike lowered the emptied container to the counter with a satisfied sigh, Joyce was struck with a sense of finality, that this was the reality of her life now. This life where vampires and demons were the norm, her eyes now well and truly opened.

And her daughter was in love with one of those vampires. And that really was ok.


"Did Angel do that?" Joyce found herself asking, knowing the answer beforehand, but wanting to draw her thoughts away from any other profound realizations.

"Nope," Spike answered evenly, settling back in his chair. "Buffy did."

Joyce could do nothing but blink at his answer before turning accusing eyes to her daughter.

"I so did not, you big, fat liar!" Buffy denied heatedly, her voice reflecting the rolling of her eyes.

Ignoring the name calling, Spike merely smirked and ordered her to finish all of her juice. He heard the sigh of relief that Joyce wasn't quite able to hide in learning that her daughter really wasn't responsible for the massacre of flesh that had taken place at his throat.

"See? Your mum believed me. She knows about your violent streak." Spike took great pleasure in needling Buffy, already feeling better with a bit of blood in him.

"Don't even start," Buffy threatened, placing the empty bottle of juice on the table with more force than was necessary, knowing exactly where Spike was going with his teasing. Desperate to take the focus off of her and the recent carnage she had inflicted in her kitchen, Buffy answered her mother's initial question. "Yes, mom, Angel did that."

Joyce's forehead furrowed with confusion. "But... I thought Spike said he could get him to drink. That it was some... vampire thing. For some reason, I didn't think it would be so gruesome."

Buffy couldn't help but snort at that. "Yeah, right. His great plan was to piss Angel off so that he would get attacked and practically drained."

"What? It bloody worked, didn't it?"

Buffy glared in his direction. "Sooo not the point. Angel could have gone for the stake-age or something."

Spike shrugged her concern off. "Nah, he wouldn't. That would have taken brains. Knew he would act on pure instinct. Besides, humpty dumpty is all put back together again, so I don't know what you're going on about."

Buffy stared at him in shock, her own fatigue fading as the orange juice hit her system. "That, Spike. " She pointed at his neck. "That's what I'm going on about."

Not wanting a fight taking place in her kitchen, Joyce interrupted. "Uh, how did you manage to get Angel upset enough to attack you? I was under the impression he wasn't in full possession of his faculties."

Buffy ignored Spike's snort. "Spike taunted him," she explained.

Joyce appeared thoughtful. "Well. That certainly didn't work when Xander couldn't keep his trap shut. All Angel did was sit there. It was all I could do not to do something violent to get that boy to shut up." She immediately looked chagrined. "Oh dear. I'm afraid that wasn't very nice of me."

"It's ok, mom. Kinda know what you mean there."

"Yeah, well, the whelp is just an irritant. I knew where to stick it to Angel, where it would hurt the most," he commented smugly, settling his hand on top of Buffy's smaller one. "I just went in and made him think that he'd left your daughter here ripe for the picking and I swooped in and had my evil way with her."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like that didn't happen?"

Spike's smug grin took on a leering edge, one eyebrow arching up in frank appreciation. "Used and abused, baby."

"So, he's more with it now?" Joyce asked, eager to steer the conversation away from the vampire's disturbing sexual innuendo.

Buffy nodded after giving Spike a warning look. "Yeah. We left him with Giles. He was all with the talky and everything."

"You don't sound very happy about that," Joyce observed, realizing that their current behavior did not mirror their previous concern.

"I can honestly say that I'm on the side of neutral, if you want to know." Buffy stood up on shaky legs and moved around to the refrigerator, helping herself to another bottle of juice. Gulping it down, she threw the bottle in the recycling bin before turning to face her mother again. "I am glad he's not dust or in Hell, but in the grand scheme of things? He's at the low end of the priority scale."

Her mom nodded thoughtfully, examining her own emotions regarding her daughter's first vampire lover. Nothing seemed changed from her previous detached consideration, her attitude resembling that of her daughter's. But the reappearance of Angel had meant that Buffy was back in her life, and for that, she would be grateful - regardless of the circumstances.

"We're going to go take a nap," Buffy announced with a yawn, interrupting Joyce's musings. "This vamp savage stuff is hell on the metabolism."

Joyce nodded, her eyes drawn instinctively to the vicious holes on Spike's neck as he stood up. She was pleased to see that they were beginning to heal, the bleeding had stopped and the edges were beginning to come together.

"Appreciate the blood, Joyce," Spike remarked on his way out of the kitchen.

She waved off his gratitude. "Rupert sent me for it. I was only following his orders."

He nodded. "Right. Well, still appreciate it." Spike wasted no time in following Buffy up the stairs to the room she had occupied before leaving Sunnydale.

Before her life with Spike.

And Joyce found herself alone, strangely at odds with the solitude - regardless of the fact that loneliness had been her constant companion the entire time Buffy had been gone.

So she decided to cook.
tbc
next chapter more interesting, I promise!

 Mucho thanks to spikeskat who earned the record for the fastest beta turnaround EVER for this one. We're talking in less than 10 minutes. *hugs kat.*

Chapter 20

It was dusk when Joyce took the apple pie she had made out of the oven, the chili she'd prepared hours earlier was simmering quietly in the crock-pot. As she began to tackle the task of cleaning her cooking mess, the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on her apron, she took her time in reaching the front door, hoping the bell would prove to awaken the slumbering slayer and vampire.



Assuming it was Xander and Willow on one of their unannounced visits, Joyce didn't bother to check through the peephole before she threw it open.



It wasn't Xander or Willow.



"Avon calling!" a bright, chipper voice greeted Joyce, catching her off guard. The visitor on the other side of the door was unmistakable. Even bundled in layers of clothing that were at serious odds with the temperate California climate, the nervous, frenetic energy and mischievous smile were easy to recognize.



"Elaine!" Joyce greeted warmly.



"Hi Joyce! Bet you didn't expect to see us, now did you?" The New Englander whipped her hat off and fluffed her hair.



"You mean you didn't call to let her know we were coming?" Rick demanded, looking at his wife with something akin to horror, wondering just where her brain was sometimes. "Sorry, Joyce. I figured she'd show some manners for once in her life. I should have known better."



Elaine waved him off. "Oh, it's fine. Right, Joyce?"



Buffy's mother found her lips curving up into a smile. "Of course it is. Come on in."



"See? I didn't need to call ahead. Besides, where's that element of surprise if you call to warn somebody you're coming?" Elaine pinned a questioning look on her husband, who remained steadfastly silent. "That's right, there is none." Elaine ignored Rick's pained sigh and shared a conspiratorial smile with Joyce. "Besides, we're practically family," she announced, looping arms with Buffy's mother and stepped over the threshold. "Oh wow, I just love your house." Her eagle eyes missed nothing as Joyce led them into the kitchen.



"Something sure smells good in here," Elaine announced, peeling off her parka. "And you know, it's a bit weird taking off in the beginnings of a snow storm and landing in disgustingly beautiful, warm weather. I'm dying here. How can you stand this heat?"



"Well, you are a bit overdressed for Sunnydale weather, I have to admit."



"I tried to tell her that, of course. Told her to at least leave one layer behind. But do you think she listens to me?" Rick complained, throwing himself onto the barstool that Spike had vacated hours before.



"Where are Spike and Buffy?" Elaine inquired as if her husband had never said a word.



"See? She won't even listen to me bitching about her never listening to me," Rick griped good-naturedly.



"Oh, I listen to you, honey," Elaine replied, batting her eyelashes as she slid into the seat next to Rick. "I listen perfectly well when you have something I actually want to hear." She giggled at his pained snort and leaned over to give him a quick kiss, then turned back to Joyce to repeat her question. "Are Spike and Buffy here?"



Joyce nodded. "Yes. Actually they are asleep right now."



"Asleep? It's... like... five o'clock in the afternoon! Sheesh! Spike, yeah. You expect it. But Buffy?" she shook her head to emphasize her point. "She's back in California for a day and she turns into a lazy slug!"



"Yes, well, they had a rather... trying morning."



Elaine immediately dropped the teasing and allowed her concern to show through, that same concern that had prompted her to get on a plane in the middle of a snow storm and fly to offer her unfailing support, her husband a willing participant at her side. "Are they both ok?"



"Yes. Well, they should be. Buffy said that all she needed was a little sleep and she'd be fine." Joyce glanced at the clock on the stove, frowning. "Although, they have been asleep for hours now. I'm starting to get worried."



"Well, maybe someone should go wake them up?" Elaine suggested. "Make sure they're ok."



Rick tossed his wife a knowing look. "Nice try."



"What?" she cried. "I can't help it if I like seeing Spike all rumpled! He looks so cute when he gets up, with all those little ringlets he has."



"Spike has ringlets?" Joyce inquired curiously.



Elaine nodded. "Damn cute ones, too. That's why he pours all that gel in his hair."



"Tell me again why I put up with you?" Rick questioned, hooking his arm around the back of Elaine's chair.



"Because... you love me?" Elaine sent an impish smile his way.



"God knows why-" His words were cut off abruptly when his wife gave him a swift, hungry kiss.



Observing the affectionate interaction between the couple in front of her, Joyce realized that she had been invaded by a subtle sense of well-being. It had begun to take root the moment she had opened her front door to find Rick and Elaine on her porch and she took a moment to absorb the significance of it. They had quickly become her friends as well, and Joyce knew that they were the only ones, beside herself, who she could trust to have Buffy's best interest at heart. Even Rupert, as concerned as he had been, had hidden motives in regards to her daughter. But these two? Their motivations matched her own.



And she was damn glad to see them.



"Can I get you anything to drink?" Joyce offered warmly once the couple broke apart and had finished giving each other sappy smiles.



"I'm fine, thank you. We got bumped to first class so I made the stewardesses work for their pay." Elaine pressed a quick kiss to her husband's cheek then directed her full attention to Joyce.



"They are called flight attendants, Elaine."



"Whatever. But thank you for the offer, Joyce."



"Do you have any beer?" Rick asked hopefully.



"I believe so." A quick scour of the shelves proved fruitful and Joyce handed him a bottle of domestic beer.



After a few moments of idle chitchat, Elaine's voice becoming increasingly louder in an attempt to awaken her sleeping friends, she suddenly turned serious. "Joyce, don't mess with me here. Are Spike and Buffy really ok?"



Joyce nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, as I said before, I think sleep is all they needed."



"No, I mean mentally ok."



"I think so, Elaine. They both seemed fairly... ambivalent about the whole thing this morning, if you want to know the truth."



Elaine sighed with relief. "Good. Because that would have made me angry, if they had been sad again." At Joyce's questioningly look, Elaine continued, "When they first came to Windmont, they were sad. They hid it well, but that's the truth. Then after a while, they weren't."



Joyce had to blink back the sudden rush of tears that clouded her vision.



"But then when you and Grupert came into town-"



"It's Rupert," Joyce corrected automatically.



Elaine brushed off the name with a nonchalant wave of her wrist. "Whatever. Point is, they suddenly seemed to get a whole lot sadder when they found out that they had to come deal with the mess here." Her gaze hardened as she regarded Joyce. "I don't like seeing them sad."



Joyce sighed. "I don't either, Elaine."



"Jesus Christ, talk about being a drama queen, Elaine." Rick shook his head in wonder. "Could I use your bathroom, Joyce?"



"Of course. It's around the corner."



The moment her husband exited the room, Elaine sent Joyce a mischievous look. "Is Buffy's room right above the kitchen?"



Rick dried his hand on the flowery guest towels before leaving the quaint bathroom and heading back to the kitchen, becoming sidetracked by the gallery of photos on the wall.



Laughing at one particularly amusing picture of an adolescent Buffy, he entered the kitchen with a smile on his face. "Joyce, how old was Buffy in that picture with the clown?"



His question trailed off as he saw what his wife had been up to in his short absence. "What the hell are you doing , Elaine?"



"What does it look like I'm doing?" The broom in her hand told him all he needed to know.



"I can't believe you're doing that here." He shook his head at her audacity, then noticed the conspiratorial exchange of glances between his wife and Buffy's mother, quickly realizing he had walked into some sort of twisted female bonding ritual.



"Well, I refrained from going upstairs and waking them up personally, didn't I? I think that showed some restraint on my part." Elaine sent her husband a 'so there' look and began her task of jabbing the ceiling with the wooden tip of the broom. "Besides, Joyce said she would have done it herself if she had thought of it, didn't you?"



"Well, I might have opted for knocking on their door rather than the ceiling," Joyce admitted with a smile, but her current anxiety over her daughter's well-being was overriding her common sense at this point.



Rick snorted derisively. "You're gonna get it. Remember what happened the last time you pulled that shit?"



"Eh, he wouldn't dare."



"What happened last time?" Joyce questioned curiously.



"Don't," Elaine threatened, pointing the broom handle in her husband's direction.



Her empty threat was ignored. "Spike came running down the stairs and threw her ass out in the snow, is what. It was the funniest shit ever." Rick snickered at the memory. "On second thought, keep it up."



"You didn't tell me that part," Joyce accused, beginning to rethink her involvement.



Shrugging nonchalantly, Elaine took the opportunity to glare at her husband. "That was <i>his </i> fault." She pointed at Rick. "Buffy and I had been out shopping all day and Buffy wanted Spike to wake up so she could show him all the bargains she had got. I couldn't calm her down, she'd drank way too much coffee and was just spazzing. So, I took a broom and knocked on the ceiling a bit. We didn't know that dumbass over there had kept Spike up all day working on some stupid project in the garage and he had just gone to sleep twenty minutes before we got back."



"Yeah, I was in the garage finishing up and I hear Elaine shrieking like there was no tomorrow," Rick ignored the dirty look tossed his way. "So I go running up and I was just in time to see Spike toss Her Tactlessness into the snow and rub her face into it. I bought him a beer for that one." He couldn't help but laugh at the memory. "Should have seen her, with her make-up dripping down her face, screeching, and there was Spike - all fangy and dumping snow on her head. It was priceless."



"You're such an asshole," Elaine informed him, her voice carrying little conviction.



"Yeah, and you're a class A bitch."



Elaine beamed suddenly. "Why, thank you, sweetie."



"Bloody hell. Didn't you learn your lesson last time, Elaine?" An amused voice commented from behind them.



Elaine whipped around, a guilty look gracing her heavily made-up features. Acting on pure instinct, she pushed the broom in Joyce's direction. "It wasn't me."



"Right," Spike drawled.



Elaine opened her mouth to attempt to deny it once more but suddenly found herself with an armful of best friend.



"You're here!" Buffy exclaimed, hugging Elaine.



"Well, duh, silly! Wouldn't be much of a friend if I wasn't, now would I?" she admonished, drawing back to study her friend. "You look a little pale."



Buffy gave a tearful laugh. "Should have seen me earlier."



Elaine turned her attention to Spike, gasping loudly. "What in the hell took a bite out of you? Jaws?"



Before a reply could be made, the doorbell rang.

tbc..

ut oh... who is at the door now?
Yeah, I don't know either.
 

Chapter 21

    "Damn, that was a close one," Elaine commented relieved, watching as Spike stalked out of the kitchen to answer the front door, his bare feet slamming noisily against the wood floor.

    "Yeah, especially since there's a huge mud puddle outside instead of snow," Buffy replied. "And that woulda been all kinds of messy."

    "No, that woulda been all kinds of hysterical." Rick took another swig of his beer, ignoring the daggers that were being shot from his wife's eyes.

    Joyce noticed the way Buffy was eyeing the coffee pot in exhausted desperation and took the hint, filling up the glass carafe with water from the refrigerator door. "Elaine, would you like a cup of coffee?"

    "I'd love some, thanks."

    "Thanks for making coffee, mom. I so need it right now." Buffy turned in Elaine's direction. "Did I tell you how glad I am that you are here?" Buffy couldn't help throwing her arms around her friend and hugging her tight.

    "Well, I missed you, dummy. And I was afraid you were going to do something stupid - like stay here instead of coming home."

    Buffy pulled back and shot a guilty look in her mom's direction, relieved to note that Elaine's comment hadn't been overheard. "We haven't talked about any of that yet, " she told her friend quietly.

   Elaine gave her an apologetic smile. "Gotcha. So keep my big mouth shut about it?"

    Buffy nodded gratefully, ignoring Rick's predictable snort about his wife and the likelihood of her being able to keep quiet about anything.

   Damned if it didn't almost feel like home.

   That is, until the sound of footsteps in the hallway drew her attention and a familiar feeling of anxiety began brewing in the pit of Buffy's stomach seeing Xander and Willow tread solemnly behind Spike. From the tight expression on Spike's face, Buffy knew that Xander must have said something to piss him off again, and she offered her husband a sympathetic look as he stalked past her to throw open the refrigerator door.

    "Hey! There was a beer in here earlier," he growled, whipping his head around to look at each one of them accusingly .

    Rick held up the bottle and toasted him, unperturbed. "Yep, there was."

    Spike glared at his friend. "Wanker."

    Willow stepped timidly into the room, her dismay at finding Buffy's other friends in Sunnydale readily apparent on her overly-expressive face. "Uh, hi."

    "Hi, guys," Buffy greeted neutrally, hoping this reunion of sorts wasn't going to turn into another ugly scene. She'd already had her share of the ugliness and just couldn't seem to muster up the energy for anymore.

    "Uh, we just thought we'd come over and see how you were doing. We stopped by the mansion to see you, but you'd already left. Giles said you weren't feeling all that great."

     "Yeah, well, I'm better than I was earlier." She could feel Xander eyeing the bite mark Spike had left earlier, the accompanying disapproval practically scorching her with its ferocity. Not about to hide the scar from his eyes, she opted to change the subject. "Did you see Angel?"

    Willow shook her head. "No, he was sleeping. In one of the guest rooms though, so that's something. Giles is on guard duty with his crossbow. I guess Angel broke the chains."

    Buffy knew he had, but if Giles hadn't shared the story, she sure wasn't.

    "Mansion?" Elaine inquired neutrally.

    "Yeah, Angel's mansion." Willow took a seat in the now-crowded kitchen, offering the older blonde a tentative smile.

    Elaine returned it with one of her own before focusing her attention on Buffy. "He owns a mansion?"

    Buffy shrugged, glancing in Spike's direction for clarification, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer to this or not. "Does Angel own the mansion?"

    "Nope." Spike watched Buffy's face drop, knowing she immediately assumed that the previous tenants had been killed for their property. "I own it."

    "YOU own it?" Elaine gaped at him, wondering just how many more of these little shocks were going to come up over the course of their friendship. 

      "All this time we've been together... and you've never thought to share that little tidbit with me?" Buffy regarded him with a raised brow.

    Spike had the good sense to appear chagrined. "Didn't think it really mattered."

    "Didn't matter?" Elaine echoed, definitely seeing a problem with this. "You own a frikkin mansion."

    "Eh, it's not a mansion. Angelus is the one who started calling it that. The day we moved in, the ponce jumped on his bloody irritating lord-of-the-manor high horse and deemed it the Crawford Mansion instead of a lowly house on Crawford Street." He caught Buffy's incredulous glance. "What?"

    "How is it that you own it?"

    "Oh. Well, needed someplace to hide out after that watcher of yours torched the factory. Again, thanks to Angelus, I might add."

    "So... you just bought it?"

    "S'wot I just said, isn't it?"

    "No, you said you own it. That's a whole lotta difference when you're evil," Xander announced, flinching from the simultaneous glares that were sent his way from every occupant of the kitchen. "What? Am I wrong in this?"

    Spike sent him a scathing look. "In this case, yeah, you bloody well are. Drusilla wanted it. I bought it. End of story." 

    "Didn't help though, did it?" Buffy asked softly, instinctively knowing why Spike had never brought up his involvement with that particular piece of real estate before and why he didn't particularly want to discuss it now. She knew firsthand how her former lover and Drusilla had behaved with each other after moving into the mansion, and also knew that Spike had definitely not been an equal partner in that squicky equation - mansion owner or not.

    Spike snorted derisively, the pain of betrayal still a bitter pill to swallow. "Not a bit. "  

    An uncomfortable silence settled over the kitchen.  "Is it nice?" Elaine asked suddenly.

    "It stinks." Xander announced firmly, upset with himself for opening his mouth yet again. Making an effort to get along, he pushed off from the wall he had been leaning belligerently against and took the last remaining seat.

    "Yeah," Willow agreed, more than willing to change the subject. "It does stink. Really bad."

    "But is it nice?"

    Willow nodded. "If you can get past the smell."

    "Ok... So, my best friends own a stinky mansion in California. This is doable." She nodded to herself, looking thoughtful. "Yep, it sure is. Is it ocean front?" 

    "What's so 'doable' about it?" Rick asked warily, wondering if he even wanted to know.  

    "Hello? Vacation rental? Except without the actual renting part. Because friends don't let friends pay rent, you know."

    "There's my girl. Always thinking about what's in it for her." Rick patted Elaine's hand patronizingly.

   That served to break the escalating tension, even Xander managed to crack a smile. "Would you two like to stay for dinner? I made chili." Joyce opened the cupboard and began removing bowls from the middle shelf. Spike moved her out of the way and took over the task and she sent him a grateful smile. "It's just about ready," she called over her shoulder to the others.

    "Um..." Willow looked at Buffy to garner a reaction, still not sure where she stood with her former best friend.  A happy smile graced her face when Buffy nodded encouragingly. "Ok, we'll stay."

    Elaine got off the stool and grabbed a stack of napkins. "How many places should I set?" she asked. "Is Dilbert coming?"

    Joyce shook her head, not even bothering to correct Buffy's friend and handed her a pile of placemats. "No, I think Rupert is staying with Angel, although somebody might want to take him a plate later. I don't know what there is to eat over there."

    "We can do that," Willow volunteered, glad to have something to do. The feeling of being uncomfortable at the Summers house was foreign and heavy with the unwelcome.

    And she wondered if it would ever get any better.

chapter 22

    Giles had long since given up hope of locating anything that might resemble food during the hours spent in his glorified baby-sitting duties at the mansion. All he'd managed to uncover was a neglected bag of crushed Bugles, most assuredly left behind by Xander. With his stomach protesting loudly at the unaccustomed inattention, the watcher couldn't help but admire Angel's steadfast constitution that had kept him from feeding, even with the end to his torment within arms reach. But the vampire had merely left the animal blood congealing unpleasantly where it sat untouched on the floor next to him.

    Spike had been correct from the very beginning, Giles realized. The deliberate starvation had demonstrated the influential presence of a soul. Idly, he wondered if that concrete knowledge would have done them any good beforehand, and quickly discarded that thought. He had done the right thing by locating Buffy, not only for his own peace of mind but also for the part she had played in ending Angel's slow self-starvation suicide attempt. 

    The hours had passed by slowly for Rupert. After Buffy and Spike had left earlier, the energy Angel had previously garnered through Buffy's second-hand blood had deserted him, causing him to fall into a chair with an exhausted sigh. The vampire had wanted answers to a myriad of subjects, but Giles wasn't in the mood for the repetitive questioning that came with Angel's fatigue and had ordered him to rest. His feelings were mixed. Though Angel had obviously been returned from whatever hell dimension he'd been sent to with his soul firmly intact, Giles felt that the vampire had an extraordinary amount to answer for, and it gave him a smidgeon of satisfaction when he saw the pain cloud Angel's face when he'd remembered Jenny's death... and the role he'd played in it. The subsequent pleas for forgiveness were easy to ignore.

    Because it just wasn't going to be that simple. 

    When Giles had pointed the crossbow at the anguished vampire and coldly ordered him into one of the bedrooms where he could be easily guarded, his demand had been followed without hesitation, guilt making Angel amenable to his every word. Only, Giles hadn't expected him to slumber throughout the remaining daylight hours or he would've had the foresight to pack some food to see him through the day. Or at the very least - his cellphone. 

    Now, with dusk approaching, Giles decided it was time to wake the vampire. He'd been unwilling to leave the mansion without knowing whether he would be leaving behind man or monster, and even the lure of food paled in comparison to the firsthand knowledge of what type of devastation a homicidal version of Angel could extract upon an unsuspecting public. So, he'd endured, his stomach grumbling rudely

     Apparently the setting of the sun tossed-off the cloak of Angel's need for slumber, and no wake-up attempt was necessary. Crossbow raised and at the ready, Giles watched as the previously deathly-still limbs began twitching and awaited the final verdict of mental acuity.

    Amid the dusty but clean white sheets, Angel came to full wakefulness, his murky brown eyes combing the room and telling Giles their own story.

    "I thought it was all a dream."  The tortured voice didn't come as much of a surprise.

    Anger surged through the watcher, unanticipated, but appropriate. "We all bloody well wish it had been a dream," he snarled, his hands tightening on the crossbow.

    A pained sigh bounced throughout the room and Angel swung his legs over the edge of the bed, unable to look Giles in the eye. "I-I don't know what to say. Sorry doesn't even begin to cover what Angelus did -"

    "Oh, go take a shower," Giles snapped, unable to listen to another word.

    Twenty minutes later, a more sanitary version of Angel silently entered the large front room where Giles had settled once he had been reassured that the  vampire would not be a threat. Giles regarded Angel where he stood in front of the fire, looking uncomfortable in the leather pants and flouncy shirt of his alter-ego, Angelus. The brief reprieve had allowed the watcher to get his thoughts and emotions under control, and his rationality was much improved, hunger aside.

    "I trust you are feeling better?"

    Angel nodded, eyes downcast as the full extent of the damage he'd inflicted as Angelus thoroughly saturated his conscience once more, making him feel sick. The years he'd endured seeking redemption were now null and void, completely obliterated with one second of pure happiness.

    With Buffy.

    "Where is she?"

    Not quite the first question he'd expected, but Giles wasn't completely surprised, given the protectiveness earlier. "She is at her mother's, I believe."

    In a voice far too subdued and respectful to ever be mistaken for his evil substitute, Angel asked, "Is she ok?"

    Giles nodded, knowing where this was leading, wondering how much of earlier he remembered before he'd fallen sleep. "As far as I know, she's quite well."

    Angel's head snapped up and intense dark eyes captured Giles' own, letting him know that the vampire was completely lucid now, more so than he'd been earlier. "You let her go... with Spike."

    Giles palmed the crossbow he'd just been contemplating setting aside, his own expression hard. "Yes, Angel, I did. I don't feel the need to explain my actions to you, however."

    Angel shook his head firmly, his expression distraught at the dawning realization that every horror Buffy'd had to endure was because of him, merely because she dared to love him. "You don't understand."

   "No, it is you who doesn't understand, Angel."

    "I just... can't have her hurt anymore, because of me."

    "I have been an idiot," Giles muttered suddenly, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his moist brow. A chuckle escaped past his lips as he shook his head wryly. "I now see why Buffy did not wish to be found."

    The confused, befuddled look Angel sent him set the watcher's teeth on edge.

     "Found?" Angel echoed.

    "Yes, that is correct. Found." His eyes were hard and determined as they regarded the vampire standing before him. "She left Sunnydale, because of you." He deliberately left out Joyce's involvement in Buffy's defection.

    The anticipated pain crossed Angel's morose features. "Tell me," he asked quietly, lowering himself into a chair across from where Giles had been sitting. "I need to know."

    "What do you remember?"

    Angel dropped his head into the palms of his hands and sighed heavily, not wanting to think about it. "I remember fighting Buffy," he finally said, sickened that it had even taken place while trying to deny that there was another part of him that thrilled at the memory of almost having Buffy at his mercy. It made it that much harder for him, knowing that his evil side wasn't completely eradicated with the heavy cloak of soul he was wrapped in once more.

    "So, you remember Buffy plunging a sword through you to send you to Hell?" Giles sat down, resting his weapon across his knee.  

    Angel nodded morosely. "What happened after that?"

    "Buffy left Sunnydale."

    Angel looked up sharply. "Why?"

    "Apparently, because her mother informed her that if she left the house to save the world from your intent to send it to Hell, then she was not welcome back in it."

    Mental agony like he'd never experienced sliced through Angel as he put together the missing pieces. "Oh god... and that's when Spike got to her."

    Giles sighed heavily, deciding to get it over with quickly. "Yes, that was my immediate reaction when I learned of his involvement. However, I do not know the exact sequence of events, but evidently..." he paused, not sure exactly how to put it into words. "that was not the way it occurred. He didn't 'get' to her, as you put it."

    "No, Giles, you don't understand-"

    "Yes, Angel, I do understand, quite clearly. They... have a life together."

     Shaking his head violently, Angel argued, "No, I just can't accept that. Spike is-"

    "Quite frankly, I don't care if you accept it or not. As far as you're concerned, Buffy is no longer your business." He settled back in his chair, his expression grim. "Do you know that it was an entire year before we located them? A year, Angel. A year of worrying if she was suffering. A year of nightmares for her mother."

    "Where?" the vampire asked quietly.

    "New England."

    A look of surprise froze on Angel's face. "New England?" He'd been expecting something like New York... and couldn't help but wonder what evil Spike had found to get himself into in New England.

    Giles nodded knowingly, it had been a shock for him as well. "Yes. And when Joyce and I were rude enough to just drop on her doorstep, we expected the worst. Truly, I expected to find a hollow shell of my slayer. Yet, I did not. Rather, Joyce and I found her with a job, a house, friends - and a man she referred to as her husband."

    The growl was expected. "Spike," Angel bit out. "But you-"

    "Yes, Spike," Giles interrupted, shifting the crossbow meaningfully. "Now, I am going to spare you the same mistake that I made, and that would be assuming the very worst of the situation. I most likely caused irreparable damage in my relationship with Buffy because of my unwillingness to believe in her ability to think for herself and I am not about to see her in any more pain if I can help." He leaned forward intently. "I am only going to say this once. Spike and Buffy are a couple. It took me longer than it should have to see that, but now that I have, I will not stand by while you cause her even more pain. The only reason she is back in Sunnydale is because I requested her assistance in dealing with you. I have no idea if they will be staying or not. But while they are here, you will not add to their problems, do we understand each other?"

    Angel sat and regarded the Englishman, his brain working to process this latest bit of information. He knew Giles's mindset when it came to demons, and for him to support the relationship... Coupled with the words he remembered Buffy speaking to him earlier, a picture was beginning to form in his head. One that disturbed him greatly.

    "I need to see her."

    The watcher looked wary.

    "I need to see for myself that what you say is true."  Angel's face held a stubbornness that had not been present earlier.

    Giles studied the vampire to gauge his sincerity. "Very well," he agreed, rising to his feet and gestured towards the ornate doors leading to the outdoors and to the car that was parked in the driveway.

    As they walked out into the mild winter night, Giles hoped he was not making an error of huge proportions. But once his stomach reminded him again of the prolonged neglect, he found himself looking forward to the apple pie that Joyce had mentioned baking.

    And maybe once his stomach was sated, they could begin to process why, exactly, Angel had been brought back.

tbc...

Chapter 23

    Dinner passed by in a semi-awkward blur, with Joyce and Elaine the only two truly at ease. As far as Buffy's mother was concerned, she had her daughter sitting at her table again for the first time in a year, so all was right with the world. Anything of a negative nature just refused to register.

    Willow and Xander remained unusually silent during the meal, both feeling the widening gap of friendship between themselves and Buffy broadening with each new topic that was introduced and discussed. It was becoming increasingly clear that Buffy had changed a lot since she'd been gone, more so than they had even realized, both finding they now shared little in common. 

    It was beyond the weird, to say the least.

    It was Rick who had managed to somewhat alleviate the obvious discomfort, drawing Xander into a conversation that revolved around tools and woodworking. Willow couldn't help but stare at her best guy friend in shock, not even knowing that Xander knew what an electric drill was, much less how to wield it in a productive manner.

    By the time the table was cleared of the dinner plates, Buffy was finally feeling more like her normal self. The deficit of blood that had been created earlier was no longer a concern, her red blood cells having multiplied like the good, little, supercharged slayer cells they were. Now with food and coffee in her system, she had to admit she was feeling pretty good. Better than Spike, she thought, regarding him with concern. His usual pale skin held an extra edge of atypical pallor - even given his undead status - and that concerned her. Especially knowing that he had already consumed what she felt was more than an adequate amount of blood from the butcher's shop. Blood that should have done the trick to replenish his own depleted stores.

    Well, now that she was feeling better, she knew exactly how she could aid him with that little problem, she thought, trying to hide the secretive smile that insisted on playing across her lips.

    And damned if she wasn't looking forward to it, especially given their little tryst earlier at the mansion. She had gotten off - he hadn't, and that just wasn't acceptable. Or at least that's what she tried blaming her lusty thoughts on. But that episode in front of Giles and her mom had held a different flavor, one that she wanted to get another taste of. Aside from that time when he'd claimed her in the elevator and again when she'd forced him to feed from her just after they had left Sunnydale, Spike's fangs had only pierced her flesh during the peak of passion, when his bite would most assuredly send her over the edge into sheer orgasmic bliss. 

    It had never been the other way around. Never fangs first, then hot sex. Almost as if he was too afraid of reminding her of what he was. But, oh yeah, Buffy definitely wanted a very up-close and personal reminder of exactly what he was - and better yet, how much she enjoyed that grrr aspect of him.

    Just as soon as they went to bed...

    "I know what you're thinking about," Elaine teased in a sing-song voice, breaking Buffy from her increasingly lust-addled reverie.

    "Huh?" Buffy blinked rapidly to clear her mind and get herself back to the present, a touch of crimson staining her cheeks at the knowing smirk she caught Spike throwing her way.

    "Welcome back to the present, Miss. Spacey Casey." Elaine winked in Buffy's direction. "So... what do you think?"

    Buffy looked around the table, realizing she had missed out on something. And obviously a big something, noting the expressions on Willow and Xander's faces. Buffy recognized the amused tilt of Spike's head and his exaggerated, deep inhalations, knowing she would receive no help from him. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, her look clearly threatening retaliation. Well, later, anyway.

    The silence stretched on until it breeched the barrier between comfortable and the not so much, and Buffy finally sighed, realizing she was going to have to admit her mind was elsewhere.

    Like fang-deep in the gutter elsewhere.

        Just as she opened her mouth to admit the truth, Willow saved her from a world of unmerciful teasing. "Um, you know, what do you think about your mom and... someone named Dr. Adler?"

    "Oh, that," Buffy bluffed, loving Willow at that very second. But her relief at being clued in suddenly gave way to the dawning horror of the true subject matter, and she turned to Elaine in shock. "You're trying to set my mother up - with Dr. Adler!" she demanded, eyes wide with disbelief. "He's my boss! I work with him! I can't believe you! I leave town for one day and you're playing matchmaker with my mother?!"

    Elaine's face broke out in a big smile, finding Buffy's outrage highly amusing. "I had nothing to do with it, dear friend of mine, which you would have known if you hadn't been sitting there daydreaming about the very sexy hunk of dead man over there."

    "I wasn't!" she immediately denied, color rushing to her face once more. "Ok, fine, maybe I was," Buffy finally conceded, ignoring Xander's muffled groan at Elaine's terminology. "But that is so not the point here. Make with the major spillage and like, now."

    "Buffy, it's not a big deal. Really," her mother injected when Elaine refused to answer, just continued to sit there amused. Buffy whipped her head around to stare at the woman who had brought her into the world. Judging by the pleased look on Joyce's face, Buffy realized that it was, in fact, a very big deal.

    "Elaine was just informing me that Dr. Adler called her regarding a league matter - and that he just happened to ask a few questions about me while he had her on the phone."

     Her mom managed to give her another clue on the importance front with the poor attempt at feigned nonchalance and Buffy looked at Elaine suspiciously. "What kind of questions?"

    Elaine shrugged. "Oh, you know. The normal kind. Her bra size. If she was the type of loose woman who gave it up... if he went to the trouble of taking her someplace nice. The usual."

    Ignoring the snickering of the vampire seated next to her, Buffy glared at her friend. "You realize that you are in no way ,whatsoever, amusing? You know that, right?"

    Elaine burst into loud, infectious laughter. "God, you should have seen your face." she grinned at Buffy, ignoring the icy glare sent her way - she knew there was little ire behind it. "He just wanted to know what her sitch was. If she involved with Dinglebert or not. If she'd be coming back to town. You know, the sort of questions a man asks when he meets a woman he's interested in."

    Before Buffy could respond to this latest revelation, she tensed at the sound of a low knock on the front door, hearing the knob turn and the door swing inward.

 

    "Er, Joyce?" a voice called out, one that Buffy easily recognized as belonging to her watcher.

    "Ah, speaking of all things that go Dingle Dingle in the night," Elaine announced cheekily. "The man does have impeccable timing, I must admit." She turned around her seat and called over her shoulder. "Yo, you're just in time for pie. Better chop chop in here before Spike eats it all." 

    Joyce stood up to get another plate from the kitchen. "Have you eaten? There is chili left," she asked as Giles stepped into the dining room. The look on his face immediately making Buffy wary. She hadn't been away long enough to forget Giles and his 'but' face. There was a 'but' around here, she was sure of it. She wondered idly if something had happened to Angel.

    "You're wearing your 'but face', Giles. What's up?"

    "Butt face?" Elaine echoed, perplexed. "As in, 'ass face'?"

    Buffy rolled her eyes at her friend, not even bothering to shush the snickering vampire next to her. "No, silly. 'But face' as in 'oh sure, Buffy, everything is fine... but.' And that 'but' has never led to anything good, let me tell you. I've grown to fear Giles' 'but face.'" She turned to stare at her watcher. 'So what's the 'but' this time?"

    It was at that moment that Angel stepped into the room behind the watcher.

    "Ok, not exactly the 'but' I was expecting, since I figured I'd a bit of warning," Buffy commented dryly, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "You could have called and made with the warn-age, you know, Giles."

    Giles ripped his glasses off in consternation, sighing heavily. "Yes, well, if I had remembered to bring my cellular telephone with me, I most assuredly would have."

    Buffy nodded her understanding, tensing for the anticipated verbal assault from her thus-far silent ex-boyfriend. The next few seconds of silence proved to be excruciating, and for the first time in over a year, Buffy actually found herself thankful for Xander's and his big mouth

    "What in the wild world of flaming frijoles and taco sauce is dead boy doing here?" Xander yelped, his eyes wide with confusion as he stared at the posture-deficient vampire slouched in the entryway, before his gaze flew wildly around the room.

    Giles sighed heavily once more, the tension growing more palpable by the second. "Joyce, I do believe that I will take you up on your offer of chili."

tbc

home