Epilogue
Xander hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the television. Though the screen was still blank, his eyes had that glazed-over look of the truly happy. Anya was muttering to her boyfriend under her breath about how he wasn’t allowed to wear his “orgasm” face for anyone – or anything – but her.
Spike barely repressed a chuckle at the forward girl. His gaze swept around the room, taking note of the petulant vampire hiding in the corner and slowly-working-his-way-towards-being-pissed watcher.
‘Bugger!’ The Englishman had found his good stuff and by the looks of the new bottle nearly half-empty now…
“Oi! Save some for me, you sod!” the vampire griped at the human. “Should be drinkin’ the swill in the fridge if you’re not gonna appreciate what you’ve got in yer hand…”
“Spike!” Xander exclaimed, finally tearing his eyes away to see the vampire standing in the apartment’s living room. “You’ve got…” He waved vaguely at the state-of-the-art entertainment system behind him. “…just… Wow!”
“Remote’s on the table.”
Xander’s eyes glazed over once more, causing Anya to hit him in the arm in complaint.
“Buffy! Hey!” Willow greeted. “Uh… hi, Spike…”
“Red.” The vampire inclined his head.
“Hey, Wills…”
“Buffy! Spike, you old dog!” The watcher roared his hello, raising his glass to the couple in salute.
The Slayer stared at her watcher slouched in one of the plush chairs in the living room, her mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“Don’t mind him, pet. Watcher’s a little thick in the gills, is all,” Spike whispered in her ear.
“Huh?” She was still staring at what was supposed to be her stodgy former watcher tossing back glass upon glass of a dark amber liquid. Hell, she was surprised he wasn’t forgoing the glass and drinking straight from the bottle, but figured that would be much too uncouth for the man.
“Drunk, luv. The man’s wasted.”
The television roared to life – Xander having finally figured out how to work the controls – drawing her attention away from her inebriated watcher.
‘I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone,’ she thought suddenly. What in the hell had possessed her to invite her friends back to the vampire’s place? And why was nobody shouting their disapproval upon the reappearance?
She didn’t count the brooding glare from her ex seated in the shadows at the dining room table; his was a perpetual scowl she’d long since gotten used to. Buffy thought he’d worn the same expression when he told her that he couldn’t be with her any longer, stating in his superior, know-it-all tone that their relationship – or whatever it was they’d had at the time – would never work, and that he was leaving Sunnydale, and her, so she could be with someone “normal.”
Well, she’d tried normal and it hadn’t suited. Parker had turned out to be as much of a prick as Angelus had ever thought of being.
Angel had no right to be angry with her for her choice in partners.
She leaned into the blond vampire and was pleased when his arm slipped around her back and drew her close.
“So, Buffy, spill!” Willow exclaimed excitedly, momentarily forgetting her own dating woes. “You and Spike? How long have you been seeing each other?”
Buffy and Spike warily took a seat in the living room. Buffy snuggled close to the vampire, unwilling to be separated by so much as an inch. “Uh…a while?” she squeaked.
“Slayer let me have a li’l nibble after our run-in with the GI Joes a few days back,” Spike added.
“Oh good lord!” Giles spewed his drink; he wasn’t quite drunk enough to hear that his Slayer had opened a vein for her mortal enemy. “Whatever possessed—”
“He saved my life. It was only fair,” Buffy explained, cutting off what was sure to be a long diatribe on the pitfalls of taking up with another vampire; she really wasn’t in the mood. “And, hey, still alive here.”
“And the…uh… claim?” the watcher asked.
“Um…” Her head lifted to seek reassurance from Spike.
“Yeah, boy, be a good lad and tell them how you’ve made the Slayer your property,” Angel growled, his eyes flashing amber.
Buffy stiffened at Angel’s malevolence, but it was nothing compared to Spike’s reaction.
The blond vampire surged to his feet – displacing Buffy in the process – fists clenched as his demon burst forth. His growl reverberated around the room causing Willow and Giles to blink in wide-eyed fear; Xander was still staring at the television, speed-dialing through the channels, oblivious to the brewing situation or his girlfriend’s repeated attempts to gain his attention.
“So what if I am?” Buffy’s voice was loud in the ensuing silence. She stood next to Spike, glaring at the vampire that had gained his own feet and stood behind the watcher’s chair. “He treats me a lot better than you ever did, Angelus.”
Angel turned beseeching eyes towards Buffy, trying not to bristle at her choice of names. “You know that wasn’t me. I didn’t have a soul. I—”
“Well, Spike doesn’t have one now. Yet, I’m still standing here… relatively unharmed. And it’s not because it was Spike doing the hurting, either. In fact, he’s saved me several times already since being back.”
“Last night?” Giles guessed.
Buffy spared her watcher a brief nod before locking gazes with her ex.
“It’s the claim, Buffy. He can’t hurt you. It doesn’t mean he won’t go after your friends.”
“That’s your gig, mate,” Spike growled.
Angel turned venomous eyes on his grandchilde.
Buffy saw red.
“Get out! Or so help me Angel.”
“But Buffy…”
“Don’t ‘but Buffy’ me. You think I don’t see things? Don’t know how close Angelus is to the surface even now. You’re just pissed because it’s Spike and not you.”
Angel opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy held up a hand forestalling him.
“Just go. You’re not needed here. Go back to L.A.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you,” the dark-haired vampire whined.
“You gave up that right at graduation,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.
Angel stared at her a moment before stalking to the door; he threw a look over his shoulder, the amber eyes of his demon he’d been unable to shake in his anger promising retribution for the perceived slight done him by one of his own. “This isn’t over, Spike,” he mumbled for the vampire’s benefit.
Spike just smirked at his grandsire, though his mind was already mapping out the steps he’d have to take to ensure the vampire’s standing invitation into his home was revoked. He wondered if the Slayer would mind owning a condo.
“Ok… phew!” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, how about a movie night?”
“But…the football…” Xander complained. “It’s a Thanksgiving tradition.”
Spike stalked over and snagged the remote from the boy’s hand, frowning at the lack of fear from the boy. The vampire’s brows drew together upon witnessing his petulant look at having his toy taken away. He turned away, disgusted at himself, grumbling under his breath about everyone’s lack of respect at the Big Bad in their presence. Hell, even the watcher was back to draining his bottle of good scotch.
He stalked over to the Slayer, glaring down at her. She smiled up at him, uncaring about the demon that he’d yet to shake off.
“’m not joinin’ you bloody white hats,” he grumbled.
“Didn’t ask you to,” came her sweet reply.
“Though, I might fancy a spot of violence every now and again.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Spike narrowed his eyes at her easy acceptance.
“Ain’t baggin’ it either.”
“I’m sure we’ll work out something.” Buffy arched her neck invitingly, causing Spike to gulp.
“’m evil—” The reminder wasn’t only for his benefit.
Buffy snagged his hand and drew him down beside her on the oversized chair, leaning tiredly against his side. After the last few days, the wounds suffered at the hands of the Indians, the anxiety over preparing Thanksgiving dinner – not to mention the worry she’d been dealing with while trying to explain to her others about Spike being in her life – the Slayer was both physically and emotionally drained.
“Mmmm hmmm…” Her eyes closed. The sound of her friends slowly faded, lulled by the soothing rumble that had started in Spike’s chest.
Spike glanced down at the sleeping Slayer and could feel himself softening. His sire had been right, the girl had been all around him. By coming back to Sunnydale he’d been able to see the truth of Dru’s words.
Fate – in the form of a secret military contingent – had granted him this chance with her. And he’d be a fool not to take it.
And Spike was anything but a fool.
The End