Forever Again

by SpikesKat

Chapter 8

Fred and Wesley jumped away from each other just moments before Angel and Spike, followed by the blonde Slayer, came storming past.  Well, the elder vampire stormed past; Spike was trying to exhibit a modicum of remorse.  Buffy was trying to “mother” Angel. 

“Angel, would you stop?” Buffy demanded.  “Really!  You’re acting like a two year old.” 

Angel stopped abruptly, whirling around to fix her with an incredulous look. 

“A two-year-old?  Buffy!  Are you kidding?  Look at me!” he bellowed.  “I’ve got a sword sticking out of my chest.” 

“He said he was sorry.” 

“Sorry?!” 

“What the bloody hell was I supposed to do?” Spike yelled.  “The thing was on your back, about to strike!” 

“Ask me to turn around,” Angel roared back even louder. 

“There wasn’t time.” 

“You just like stabbing me.” 

The two male vampires were practically nose-to-nose, the butt of the sword actually jabbing into Spike’s chest. 

“Stupid vampires!”  Buffy threw her hands in the air in disgust at the pair. She was tired of being the mediator and in a fit of pique stormed away from the pair and flew up the ladder. 

“Oh, tha’s just great,” Spike complained to the elder vampire as he notice the Slayer flounce off.  “Jus’ had to piss her off, didn’t you?” 

“Me?!” Angel shouted. 

But, Spike was already striding off after his mate.  “Buffy…Now, luv…” he wheedled, feet barely touching the rungs as he hurried up the ladder to chase after her. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike staggered off the private elevator and into his grandsire’s office late the following afternoon.  His normal slicked-back hair was absent; instead the curls usually tamed by the products he often mocked Angel in using stood on end.  The duster he was never without was also gone.  Even his boots were missing, leaving the vampire to cross the plush carpet on bare feet. 

Angel took one look at him and barked out a laugh. 

“What?  She make you sleep on the couch?” 

“No!” he grumbled as he plopped in a chair opposite the desk. 

He’d not slept on the couch, but he had been alone in bed.  The Slayer had taken it upon herself to sleep with her sister.  And, after tossing and turning most of the morning waiting for her to return, he’d finally gotten fed up and gone after her. 

Only to find that she’d left the building with the Bit and Cordelia.  Some sort of shopping expedition.  The note she’d penned left no doubt that he was supposed to mend the slight rift between himself and Angel before she returned home or there’d be hell to pay. 

Which was why he was here now.  Bereft of his armor…trying to placate his grandsire. 

Angel leaned back in his chair, hands pillowed behind his head as he placed his feet on the edge of his desk. 

“Why is it that I don’t believe you, Childe?”  His Cheshire grin said it all. 

“’Cause you’re a bloody wanker?” Spike grumbled. 

“Ah ah ah…what would Buffy say?” 

The younger vamp bit back a retort, determined not to play into the other’s hand.  The smile on Angel’s face showed that he knew it too. 

“It’s taken me over a century, but I have finally managed to shut you up.  Oh….this is good.” Angel glanced over at Spike to see him scowling fiercely.  “What?  Something you want to say to me, Spike?  No?  I didn’t think so…” 

“Always knew you were a sadistic bastard, Angelus.” 

“Just for that, I think another night alone is in order.” 

“You wouldn’t!” 

Angel just arched a brow, his smile unrepentant and reminiscent of the evil demon he used to be. 

“Hmmm….” He pretended to think.  “There might be a way that I’ll overlook that little slip of yours.” 

“Wot?”  Spike didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Well, I seem to be getting a little low on hair gel.” 

“So, go to the bloody shop and buy some.  Or better yet, get the cheerleader to do it…she seems pretty high maintenance.  Should know just what to get. ‘m sure you can call her right now and she can get it while she’s out and about.” 

“Insulting my girlfriend isn’t going to win you any points.” 

“Oh, so she’s your girlfriend now?  And when were you goin’ to tell the rest of us?” 

“Don’t change the subject.” 

“Does Buffy know?” Spike asked, ignoring him. 

“What does Buffy have to do with anything?” 

Spike leaned back in his seat, mimicking his grandsire’s smug pose. 

“So, I take that to mean you haven’t told the Slayer yet.” 

“No…” Angel was at a loss as to his grandchilde’s sudden turn about in attitude. 

“Seems to me that that’s a rather important piece of information.  Seems to me that the Slayer, once she finds out that you were hiding it from her, isn’t going to be too happy.” 

“You’re not going to turn this back on me.  You owe me!” 

The office door opened suddenly, and in walked the girl under discussion….followed by Cordelia and Dawn. 

“Spike owes you what?” Buffy asked. 

Spike arched a brow, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited to see what Angel would do. 

Buffy repeated the question a moment later when the two male vampires just stared at one another. 

“Nothing,” he finally muttered, causing the younger vamp to grin broadly. 

“So, you’ve settled your differences?” 

“Yes,” they both grumbled. 

“Good.”  She beamed a smile at both of them.  Family was supposed to get along, and she didn’t like to see the two males bickering constantly. 

“Uh?  Buffy?”

The Slayer glanced over her shoulder at her sister. 

“Yeah, Dawnie?” 

“I’m going to head up to Fred’s office.  She promised to help me with a physics project I’ve got to do.” 

“Ok. Have fun. And don’t make a nuisance of yourself,” Buffy called out as her sister let herself out of the office. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Dawn walked into the Science lab and noticed Fred talking with another man. 

“I couldn't find any invoice on it. I thought maybe you went crazy on eBay.” 

“No. No eBay,” she replied, walking around the stone-like sarcophagus.  After that commemorative plate incident, I'm living clean. Did you run a spectral analysis?” 

“Yeah. Everything's bouncing off it, which doesn't thrill me.” 

“Well, let's not be hasty about opening it. It's probably just a mummy.” 

Dawn walked over to look at the relic, her eyes intent on the various stones near the head. 

“Dawn.  Hey!  Don’t get to close,” Fred warned.  “Oh, have you met Knox?” 

The teenager shook her head negatively. 

“Knox, this is Dawn, the Slayer’s sister.  Dawn, meet Knox.” 

The two shook hands. 

Knox turned back to Fred.  “So, you want me to get HazMat on this baby?” 

“Yeah,” Fred replied.  “And see where it came from.” 

The assistant nodded and left the lab, leaving the two women alone inside.  Fred stepped away from the sarcophagus to grab her clipboard.  Dawn, ever curious, leaned closer to the stones near the head of the tomb.  Mesmerized by the amethyst colored gem, her hand reaching out to touch it. 

The circle near it opened suddenly, sending a gush of air straight into the teenager’s face.  She coughed, drawing Fred’s notice. 

“Dawn!  Are you ok?” 

“Yeah…I’m fine,” she gasped as she drew air into her lungs.  “It was nothing.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah.  Must have just swallowed wrong or something.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“I bloody well will not!” Spike shouted at his mate. 

“Come on, Spike!  It’s Dawnie’s last night here.” 

“Which begs the question of why we’re taking the Niblet to a demon bar anyway.” He frowned at the Slayer, arm crossed over his chest.  There was no way in hell they were dragging him to a demon karaoke bar. 

“Lorne says it’s perfectly safe.  He’s had the place rebuilt since coming to Wolfram & Hart and taking over the entertainment division.  And, bonus… no one can lay a hand on each other.  He’s had the place fight-proofed.” 

Spike looked anything but convinced. 

“Humans go there too,” she added. 

“Fine….fine…But ‘m not singin’!” He flat out refused to subjugate himself before the others that way. 

“No one is asking you to,” Buffy told him.  “Now get changed.  We’re supposed to meet Angel and the others in thirty minutes.” 

“What’s wrong with—” 

“Because it doesn’t go with this,” she interrupted, holding up a scrap of black that tried to pass itself off as a dress.  “On the bed, I’ve got everything laid out for you.” 

“’m a big vamp, Slayer.  I bloody well know how to dress myself.” 

“Good, then get to it.  We’ve only got twenty-five minutes now.” 

Spike grumbled under his breath and stalked over to their bed.  He mentally breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the black on black ensemble waiting for him.  At least she hadn’t tried to dress him in some poncey colors.  Shaking his head in resignation, he stripped out of his clothes and pulled on what she’d picked out. 

Ten minutes later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom in nothing more than her thong, her hair and make-up seen to.  Perfecting the art of applying make-up without the benefit of a mirror had taken a bit to master, but she hardly ever wore much more than mascara and lipstick, so it hadn’t been too much of a hardship learning.  She stopped short as she caught sight of Spike leaning up against the mantle of the fireplace, his penetrating gaze locked on her.  He looked good – damned good – in the slightly formal clothes, and she vowed right then that they’d have to go out more often, just so she could see him dressed up. 

Buffy turned away to grab her dress from where it lay over the back of a chair and slipped it on over her head.  It molded her slight curves, the front plunging eye-poppingly low.  The two strips of material that covered her breast met at the back of her neck, fastening together by a small row of hidden buttons.  The back was bare almost to her waist, showing off her creamy alabaster skin.  The bottom of the dress flared slighty about her knees as if trying to redeem itself for its brazen top. 

“How do I look?” she asked, turning back to him.  His smoldering look was answer enough, and she gifted him with a smile.  “Come on, the others are probably waiting.  Well, Dawnie is probably waiting. The others are probably dragging their feet as much as you are.  She’s talked of nothing else all day.” 

She grabbed her still speechless mate by the hand and led him towards the door. 

~*~ 

“I can’t believe you all have me sitting in this infernal disco!” Giles grumbled.  “Oh! Is that a Keshlam demon?  I’ve never seen one of those up close.”  He swiveled in his chair, his eyes following the blue-skinned female as she was led to an empty table near the stage. 

“Easy there, Rupes.  ‘S a club, not a bloody demon museum.  Quit gawkin’ at the customers.” 

“Yeah, Giles.  We’re here to party, not to research,” Buffy added.  “Look!  It’s Dawnie’s turn to sing.” 

Everyone seated around the table turned towards the teenager slowly making her way up on stage.  They were all there; team Angel as well as Giles had all come to the new and improved Caritas to see the Slayer’s sister off back to Rome.  At least until Dawn graduated and moved back to the states in a few months. 

Buffy was all smiles as the music began, watching Dawn stare down at the monitor as she waited for the first set of lyrics to flash across the screen.  She nodded, as if assuring herself when to begin, the final introduction melody played, then she beamed a smile their way and belted out the first line. 

The next few moments seemed to play out in slow motion for the Slayer. 

Lorne gasped and fell over backwards out of his chair, the drink in his hand falling loose and shattering on the floor.  Up on stage, Dawn began to convulse, coughing up blood before she tumbled headfirst into the table closest to her.  The demon sitting there managed to catch her before she seriously hurt herself, quickly relinquishing his hold on her a second later as Spike gained his side.  Buffy and the others were not far behind, forming a protective circle around the blond-headed vampire as he strode quickly to the exit. 

“Hurry!” Angel barked.  “Let’s get her back to Wolfram & Hart.” 

“Do you think that’s—” 

“I know they’re evil, Buffy.  But, they’ve the best physicians in the world to tell us what’s wrong with Dawn.  Trust me, ok?” 

Buffy nodded once. 

The group piled into the waiting limousine, the driver incurring a few moving violations as he floored it back to the LA law offices.  Well, he would have, if the police had been able to catch him. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy started when she felt her sister’s hand twitch as it lay nestled in her own.  Her eyes snapped open, her gaze zeroing in on Dawn’s pale face. 

“Dawnie?” she called softly to her sister, exhaling heavily when Dawn managed to open her eyes and focus on her. 

“Hey…what’s….what happened?” 

“You don’t remember?” Buffy asked concerned. 

“I…I was singing…then…”  Her voice trailed off. 

“It’s ok.  Angel…he’s doing everything he can to figure out what’s going on.  You just rest now, okay?” 

Dawn closed her eyes wearily, nodding once for the benefit of her sister.  Rest sounded ideal right about now.  She couldn’t ever remember being so tired. 

The door to the hospital room opened and Buffy was grateful to see that it was Spike.  He’d vacillated between staying and keeping her company and shadowing Angel’s steps to figure out what was wrong with Buffy’s sister, until the Slayer had taken pity on him and shoved him after the elder vamp, assuring him she’d be fine alone.  His expression didn’t give anything away as he pulled her to her feet so that he could sit, resettling her in his lap afterwards. 

“What…what is it?” she asked.  “Does Angel—” 

“They don’t know anything yet, luv.  They’re runnin’ some tests. Hopefully in a few hours we’ll have the results.” 

“A few hours?” she whined softly so as not to wake her sister. 

Spike pulled her close and kissed her brow, careful not to let the Slayer see his trepidation.  The preliminary reports weren’t good.  Which was why Angel was making them run the test again….this time with his team overseeing everything.  For now, all they could do was wait. 

And hope. 

None of them had a lead to know which direction to begin their search.  Whether it was mystical in nature, or just the luck of the draw that was the human lottery and disease. 

“Why don’t you go get changed into something more comfortable?”  Not that he doubted she was chilled in the least, but he knew she’d feel better if she got of out her barely-there dress and high heels.  Anything to do away with the reminder of why they were there. 

“I don’t wanna leave her.” 

“I’ll stay with the ‘Bit,” he rushed to add when he sensed her about to argue. “Just until you get back.  She’s resting, luv.  She’ll be fine for a few minutes.” 

Spike nudged the Slayer to her feet and led her to the door.  Opening it, he was thankful to see the cheerleader pacing outside. 

“Um…Cordy?” 

Cordelia stopped her anxious pacing and looked up at Spike. 

“Buffy needs to change.  Would you mind—” 

“Of course! Come on, Buffy.” 

The brunette rushed to Buffy’s side, slipping an arm about her shoulder, and Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at the way she assisted his mate down the hall to the elevators, like his girl was some china doll on the verge of breaking and didn’t easily have ten times the girl’s strength.  ‘Poofter did right by that one,’ he thought.  For all her sass, the girl had a heart of gold.

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