Chapter 16: Dealing With the Devil

Angel had decided that he really didn’t care how Buffy felt about Spike. It was obvious that she didn’t hate him. It was even more apparent that there were more than just friendly feelings on her part. Angel did have a superior sense of smell, after all.

Even with all of that, however, Angel knew he had bigger fish to fry than the Slayer’s feelings for his grandchilde. His primary responsibility was to make certain that Drusilla would be safe and provided for. For the moment, that required his full attention.

His polite inquiry to Lindsay’s secretary had her giving up the lawyer’s location in no time. In her defense, the woman tried to stop him from going into his office, but Angel easily brushed her aside on his way to the conference room.

It was a good entrance, Angel thought as he flung the door open, watching all eyes turn towards him. He had learned the value of a good entrance over the years. This time he headed straight for Holland, recognizing the need to go right to the top for this little mission.

Holland was half out of his seat by the time Angel got to him, but the vampire shoved him back down, grabbing a fistful of his shirt front. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Angel growled. “I’m Angel, and you have something of mine.”

“Angel,” Holland replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” Although his voice was steady, and he was showing little fear, Angel could smell it rolling off him in waves.

Angel smiled, letting a little fang show. “It’s not going to be nice for very long,” he promised.

It’s a bit difficult not to be afraid of a vampire whose fangs are mere inches from your throat. Holland swallowed hard. “Now I’m sure we can work something out,” he said, trying to placate Angel. “Let’s not be hasty.”

“Oh, I’m not planning on being hasty,” Angel replied. “This is going to be real slow unless you do exactly as I say.”

Lindsay was standing and edging his way closer. “We don’t make deals with people who come in here and threaten us.”

When Angel’s fangs got that much closer to Holland’s jugular, he was quick to disagree with his subordinate. “We can always make a deal,” he said quickly, shooting Lindsay a look. “Just what is it that you would like, Angel?”

“Funny you should ask,” Angel replied, as though it had never been his intention to make demands. “I want you to leave Dru alone, for starters. Also, keep your hands off Spike. I might not like him much, but he is family.”

“Anything else?” Lindsay asked, his tone dry.

Angel smiled evilly. “Oh, I’ve got a whole list.” His grin grew wider. “But first, I think I want a little snack.”

Biting someone really does make a point, after all.

~~~~~

Buffy was acutely aware of just how many people were at Cordelia’s place. Once she’d realized just how weakened Spike was from a day spent nearly roasting and from the lack of blood, the Slayer had gotten a move on. What she’d really wanted to do was shove him back up against the wall for another make out session, bound hands and all.

Actually, aside from the fact that Buffy really wanted Spike’s hands on her, the bound hands weren’t a problem.

The problem was that there was no privacy at Cordelia’s apartment. They had arrived shortly after dark, which was good for Spike since he didn’t get singed. Willow was watching them both with an amusement that Buffy found highly annoying, and Giles was immediately underfoot wanting to know exactly what had happened.

All Buffy wanted to do was sit Spike down, make sure he was okay and get him fed. That was exactly what she told her Watcher when he started asking both of them a multitude of questions. “Spike is about ready to collapse,” she said, in no uncertain terms. “I want to get him taken care of before we start discussing what happened. Besides, it would probably be better if we wait for Angel to get back before we start show and tell.”

Spike thought about arguing about whether or not he was ready to collapse, but he decided he liked the fact that Buffy seemed so concerned about him and kept his mouth shut.

Turning to Cordelia, Buffy asked, “Do you have a sharp knife? And blood?”

Cordy gave Buffy a speculative glance, but said only, “I’ve got both. Do you want to use the bedroom?”

Giles looked as though he might protest, but he quickly shut his mouth, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor in this case. Buffy grabbed Spike and pulled him back towards the bedroom, Cordelia following moments later with the requested items. “I heated up the blood,” she said. “Angel always likes his warmed up.”

“Thanks, Cordelia,” Buffy said gratefully, poking Spike.

Taking the hint, he mumbled a thanks, too busy staring at the blood to do much more. Cordelia rolled her eyes and left, leaving Buffy to start sawing on the bonds. “What is this stuff?” she muttered. “It looks like plastic, but it’s—” she grunted, applying full Slayer-strength to the job. “Tough.”

Spike applied his own strength to pulling, in spite of the pain from his raw wrists, and the bonds parted with a snap. The Slayer grabbed one of his hands, staring at the bloody lines with concern. “Drink,” she ordered, handing him the tub of warmed blood. “I’m going to ask Cordelia if she’s got a first aid kit.”

“Vampire here,” Spike replied grabbing the tub. “I’ll be fine soon’s I get something to eat.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with me wanting to help you?” Her tone said quite plainly that he better not.

Spike decided to bite his tongue for once in his life, rather relishing the idea of more kissing. If he played his cards right, he thought he might be able to steal a couple in between bandages. “No, not at all.”

“Good.”

As soon as Buffy had left the room, Spike started downing the blood. He hadn’t been this hungry since right after getting the chip, and he couldn’t say he liked the feeling. By the time Buffy was back, the blood was gone, and she gave him a concerned look. “Are you going to need any more?”

He shook his head. “Not right now. I’ll wait till we get back to Sunnyhell.” Spike watched, bemused, as Buffy dabbed antiseptic on his right wrist. “You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

“I want to,” Buffy replied in an equally low voice. She turned his hand over gently, looking at the burn. “What happened here?”

“Fell asleep an’ got caught by the sun,” Spike replied. “Stupid.”

Buffy frowned. “Darn. I hope Angel hits that lawyer at least once for me.”

“You really think he will?” Spike asked doubtfully. “This is Peaches we’re talkin’ about. Don’t think he ever really crosses the line.”

Buffy smiled. “You didn’t see him when we were on our way to get you. He’s seriously pissed off over this whole deal, both because they went after Dru, and because he had to rescue you.” She grinned at him. “Angel really doesn’t like you.”

“I’m the thorn in his side,” Spike replied with an answering smile. “I always did know just how to piss him off.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buffy asked. She finished on the right hand and started on the left. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Spike replied, mesmerized by the feel of her hands on his skin. “Be even better once I get a chance to sleep.”

She smiled at him. “There’s a bed with your name on it as soon as we get home,” she promised. “Once Angel gets back, and we find out what’s what, we’ll take off.”

Spike wasn’t quite sure what to say. While Buffy hadn’t been showing much hesitancy in her affection for him previously, she seemed to have jumped a hurdle. This was beyond nice. This behavior was moving rapidly into concerned-girlfriend-land, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.

Not that he couldn’t think of a few things he wanted to do, but Spike was smart enough to know that Cordelia’s bed was definitely not the place for it. Not knowing what to say, and unable to think of anything else, Spike said, “Thanks.”

“For what?” Buffy asked.

“For comin’ for me,” he replied. “Wasn’t sure you would.”

She frowned. “Why would you think I’d let the evil lawyers have you, Spike?”

He shrugged. “’s just—up till recently you hated me, Slayer.”

“We kissed.”

“That doesn’t always change things.”

“Are you saying you still hate me?”

Her voice warned Spike that trouble was coming and ought to be headed off as quickly as possible. “Didn’t say that. Just said that I wasn’t sure how much things had changed.”

He was asking for answers too soon. Spike knew it even as the words left his lips. He should have kept his mouth shut and just accepted what was offered. What did the meaning matter when her hands were gentle and her words soft? He was forever asking questions to which he didn’t want the answers. Always wanting more than he could possibly have.

They had kissed in her kitchen, and Buffy hadn’t completely freaked when Willow found them out. It should have been enough.

Buffy saw the play of emotions on Spike’s face, suddenly realizing that she could read him like a book. When had that happened? When had she actually gotten to know him? He was scared to death of her reaction, scared to death she was going to reject him. And didn’t Buffy know that feeling?

“I’d say things have changed a lot,” she said carefully.

Spike nodded, deciding that was probably the best answer he could hope for. “Right. That’s good.”

“Spike—” Buffy hesitated for a moment. “You’re my vampire,” she said finally. “And no one lays a hand on what’s mine.”

It wasn’t love, but it would do.

~~~~~

Wesley sighed. He knew he ought to call Cordelia and find out where Angel was and if the vampire had settled things, but he really didn’t want to. In spite of the inconvenience being in the dingy motel room presented, it had been just him and Drusilla, with no distractions. That alone made the time worthwhile.

He had to admit that he was more than a little concerned that once Drusilla got out into the world again, and saw what it had to offer her, she would look upon him as a bad bet. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented—

“What are you thinking, love?”

Wesley stiffened slightly when he felt her arms snake around his waist, and then he relaxed again. “I was thinking of you.”

Her grip tightened. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“How could they not be?”

“You’re not putting yourself down again, are you?” Drusilla asked, already knowing Wesley better than he realized. “Because I won’t have it.”

Wesley smiled slightly, knowing when he was out-matched. “No, of course not. I was also thinking that we should call Angel.”

“Do we have to?” Drusilla asked softly. “I’ve rather enjoyed it being just the two of us.”

Wesley felt some of the tension leave him, knowing that she had as little desire to join the rest of the world as he. Her objection gave him the wherewithal to say, “I’m afraid so, as much as I might like to stay here.” He paused. “Well, not here perhaps.”

“I should like to see the sun set over the ocean,” Drusilla murmured.

Wesley turned so he could face her. “When this is all over, you shall,” he promised. “We can spend the day on the beach, if you like.”

Dru gave him a sly smile. “Will there be ice cream?”

Wesley laughed. “As much as you like.”

~~~~~

The blood on his collar gave Angel away immediately. “What did you do?” Cordelia demanded, ever the observant one.

He looked a bit guilty—as guilty as a little boy caught with cookie crumbs on his face who had very much enjoyed his plunder. “I used a little persuasion. I had to make sure they were going to take me seriously.”

Buffy and Spike had long since emerged from Cordelia’s bedroom. Spike had been answering Giles’ questions as best as he could while attempting to ignore Willow’s knowing looks. He was trying not to appear gleeful at Angel’s actions, but couldn’t quite contain himself. “Which one did you eat?”

“I didn’t eat him,” Angel replied, testy. “I just—tasted him. And it was Holland. I thought about going after Lindsay, but I didn’t think it would make my point.”

Giles frowned. “Are they going to leave Drusilla alone?” His tone was doubtful. “I don’t see why mere threats would be enough to prevent them from coming after her again.”

Angel’s smile was nothing short of evil. “I promised Holland that I would take it very personally if anything happened to either Dru or Spike and that I would come after him. And that I would take it out of his hide. I think we reached an understanding.”

“They’ll find another way to come after you,” Buffy predicted. “If not through Drusilla, they’ll try and find something else.”

“So what else is new?” Cordelia muttered.

Angel nodded his agreement. “Cordy’s right. At least you and Spike are out of it, and Drusilla’s safe. That’s really all that matters right now.”

“I’m touched, Peaches,” Spike said, placing a hand over his unbeating heart. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t,” Angel was quick to shoot back. “I just don’t want to have to save your sorry ass again.”

Spike might have replied to that rather inflammatory comment, but was stopped by Buffy’s elbow in his ribs. “If you don’t need us, I think we should be getting back home,” she said.

“Yes, quite,” Giles agreed. “It’s probably best to get back before the sun rises.”

“We don’t want Spike getting toasty,” Willow piped up, grinning.

Spike and Buffy both shot the witch a look. “I-I think what Willow is saying is th-that Spike doesn’t need any more injuries,” Tara said, ever the peacemaker. “And we’re all tired.”

“Of course,” Giles said, not wanting to think about Willow’s expression, or Buffy’s solicitous attitude towards Spike.

“We’ve still got some time,” Spike said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind stayin’ a bit longer.”

Buffy frowned. “Spike—”

“No, he’s right,” Angel said quietly, knowing why Spike wanted to stay, and for once agreeing. He understood the need for closure. “At least stay until Wesley calls.”

Buffy met Spike eyes and finally nodded. “Okay, but if it gets too late, we’re leaving,” she said. “I don’t want to be racing the sunrise.”

~~~~~

It was lucky for Spike that Wesley called not five minutes later, and the ex-Watcher promised to swing by Cordelia’s place on their way back to his apartment. He might not have liked the fact that Spike needed to see Drusilla, but Wesley knew he had no right to prevent it.

Spike met the both of them outside, and Wesley went in to give them some privacy and give the others an update. The vampire hadn’t seen Drusilla since before she’d left Sunnydale, and her periods of lucidity had been spotty at best.

Now, however, she met him as an equal for the first time in a long while. “How you doin’, luv?”

“Good,” Drusilla replied. “I’ve missed you.”

“Did you?” Spike replied, trying for glib, and not quite managing it.

She stepped up to him, her hand coming to run through his curls. “I’m so very sorry, William.”

Spike stared at her. “For what?”

“For damning you.”

Spike blinked rapidly. “You didn’t damn me, pet. You saved me. I was nothing.”

“You were a good man,” Drusilla replied quietly. “And you could be again.” She smiled coyly. “I was right, you know.”

Spike immediately knew what she was talking about. “I know. Didn’t take me too long to figure it out. I think she might like me back.” He touched her cheek tenderly. Even as a member of the quartet known as the Scourge of Europe, Spike had always been able to be tender with Drusilla. “I’m sorry too, you know. For hurtin’ you.”

“’twasn’t your fault, my love,” she murmured. “Told you that you were the lamb.”

He frowned. “The lamb?”

“Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.”

Spike half-smiled. “So I’m the lamb,” he replied, “but what’s the blackberry patch?”

“You should ask, ‘Who?’” Drusilla responded, looking over his shoulder. Spike turned to see the Slayer standing there.

“Are you ready, Spike?” Buffy asked, sounding a bit awkward. “Giles is chomping at the bit.”

“Yeah, just a mo’.” He turned back to Drusilla, who was watching him with wise eyes. Spike could recognize an end when he saw one. “I’ll be seein’ you, Dru.”

“Yes.” Drusilla kissed him gently on the cheek. “Be well, my Spike.”

And though they would see one another again, it would never be the same.
 

Chapter 17: Adjustments

When Buffy stumbled downstairs, it was early afternoon. They had gotten back to Sunnydale about an hour before dawn, and though both Tara and Willow had slept the whole way, Buffy wasn’t so lucky. She’d been too busy staring at the back of Spike’s head where it leaned up against the window.

The Slayer had been grateful for the seating arrangements, since it meant that Giles couldn’t really talk to her. Buffy didn’t want to talk. She wanted to try and figure out what the blind panic and driving need to get Spike back had been all about. The idea of him not being in her life anymore was frightening—more so than it should have been.

She hadn’t come to any real conclusions during the two hour drive. Spike was still a vampire. He still didn’t have a soul. He could still be annoying and a real pain in the ass.

He could also be sweet, charming, besides being always absolutely gorgeous. Plus, his track record suggested that he might actually stick around, unlike some of her previous boyfriends.

If Buffy lined up the pros and cons side by side, it was easy to see which side outweighed the other. Really, it was only the potential for Spike’s chip not working that was keeping her from being with him. She’d worked around the vampire thing before. Him reverting to eating people wasn’t quite so easy to take.

“Good morning, Buffy.” Joyce smiled at her daughter from where she was perusing the paper, drinking a cup of coffee. “Did you get in late?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, going to pour her own cup. “Is Spike still sleeping?”

Joyce looked her thoughtfully for a moment before answering. “Yes, he is. I went and checked on him just a little while ago. I’m glad you got him back safely.”

“Me too,” Buffy replied, and Joyce didn’t miss the fervent tone in her daughters voice. Now Joyce hadn’t always been the best of mothers; she could readily admit to that. There were things she had done, things she had said, that she couldn’t look back upon without cringing.

These days, however, she thought she was doing pretty good, and Joyce knew Buffy well enough to know when she had feelings for a particular person. In this case, a particular someone of the undead persuasion, sleeping on a cot in her basement. And, while Joyce liked Spike a great deal, she wasn’t sure she wanted her daughter dating a vampire again.

On the other hand, these weren’t the days when she could politely use emotional blackmail to chase someone off. Buffy was an adult, and somehow Joyce knew that Spike would not be easily dissuaded, if he indeed returned Buffy’s affections.

Joyce already thought she knew how Spike felt. “I take it you and Spike are friends now.”

Buffy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sure. He’s not so bad really.”

“More than friends?”

Buffy’s head shot up. “What?”

“Buffy—”

“Don’t say it, Mom,” she replied quickly. “You were the one who told me to be nice to Spike. If I hadn’t followed your advice, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Joyce wasn’t sure what kind of reply she could make to that. “So what is happening, Buffy?”

“I don’t know, Mom.” Her words were very nearly at a wail. “I like him. He’s really cute, and he can be nice when he wants to be, and he gets me.” Buffy sighed. “He understands me, Mom.”

Joyce hesitated before saying, “That’s important, sweetheart, but don’t you want someone who can walk in the sun with you? Give you some semblance of a normal life?”

“I tried normal with Riley, Mom,” Buffy replied. “It didn’t work. He couldn’t handle who I am. And I’m not normal. I’m the Slayer. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle that. At least Spike can.”

Again Joyce found herself silenced, both by Buffy’s argument and by what had gone unsaid. The likelihood of her daughter living long enough to enjoy a normal life was slim. It wasn’t something she liked to think about, or that Buffy willingly talked about, but it was true.

The small voice in the back of Joyce’s head came unbidden—that perhaps Spike would be able to keep Buffy safe, or safer.

In what was obviously a strategic change of subject, Buffy asked, “What are you doing home now, Mom? Is the gallery closed today?”

“I got someone to cover for me,” Joyce replied. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take.”

“You went to see the doctor?” Buffy asked sharply. “What did he say?”

Joyce grimaced. “What I thought he’d say. He couldn’t see anything wrong, but he was worried enough about the headaches to order an MRI. I’m supposed to go in tomorrow.”

“That quick?” Buffy said. “Does he—I mean, are you going to be okay?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Joyce said dismissively, trying to comfort herself as much as Buffy.

Buffy was remembering Drusilla’s uncanny knack for knowing things, and she wasn’t so sure.

~~~~~

Wesley was making tea when Drusilla came to join him in the kitchen. “Are you sorry to be back?”

He looked over at her. “I was happy to have fresh clothing,” he admitted. “And it’s not so bad. I did tell Angel and Cordelia we’d be over later today. I’m afraid we’re rather behind on work.”

“Perhaps I should stay here,” Drusilla suggested. “I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be in the way,” Wesley said quickly. “Although, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to go. If you want to stay—”

Drusilla laid a hand on his arm. “I cannot stay here, my love.”

He had known it was coming. Wesley had known that Drusilla would leave once their short vacation was over. Her staying with him was becoming awkward. The attraction was there, of course, as well as the admiration and respect, but their relationship was not yet rooted in time. They didn’t yet know if they would weather their first argument, or if their living arrangement ought to be made permanent. “I know.”

“I want my own little place,” Drusilla continued. “For a time anyway. I’ve lived too long at the whim of others.”

Wesley turned to face her. “I know, sweetheart. You should do whatever you need to do to be comfortable.”

“Just because I want to stand on my own two feet doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to stand beside me,” Drusilla said softly. “I’m not really going anywhere.”

Wesley leaned down to kiss her. “That’s fine. Besides, I promised you a trip to the beach, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Drusilla replied. “I can think of another thing that you promised as well.”

Her hand trailed down his chest, and Wesley sucked in a breath. “Are you sure? I would have thought—”

“I know my own mind,” Drusilla replied. “I want to feel you, Wesley. Please. Help me forget all that has come before.”

Wesley hesitated only briefly before kissing her again, this time more demandingly. He thought he should have minded that she was calling the shots, deciding when they would move to the next level. Perhaps he should have cared that Drusilla appeared to be using him to forget something she would rather not remember.

That she was using his hands to block out all thoughts of other hands that had blazed the same trails.

If Wesley thought too terribly hard about it, he would also remember that Drusilla had been Angel’s in every sense at one point in time. She had been a vampire, renowned for her cruelty and malice.

The woman in his arms was fragile as spun glass—deceptively so, since Wesley could taste her strength on his lips. He wanted to care for her, and for her to know she was cared for. He wanted to show her that pleasure was as much about slow, lingering touches as it was about pain, quick and bright.

Wesley wanted to build up to a slow burn so that when Drusilla finally came, she would tumble over the cliff right into his arms.

He wanted to be the only one she would see.

In the end, she filled his vision, and Wesley had no doubts that a man would sell his soul to be with her. He understood why a person might spend centuries with Drusilla, worshipping at her altar.

Wesley was lost, while Drusilla felt as though she had finally been found.

~~~~~

Cordelia was having a hard time processing what she was seeing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing,” Angel replied, almost cheerfully.

No, he was cheerful. Cordy sat down in her chair with a thump, watching as the vampire finished zipping his clothes into a bag. “Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the real Angel?”

“Very funny, Cordy,” Angel said. Even her teasing couldn’t put him off. “I just thought that it was time I got out of here. If I keep waiting for the perfect place, it’s going to take way too long.”

“And you’re just now figuring that out?” Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously, Angel. What brought this on?”

He shrugged. “Drusilla talked to me last night before they left. She said she can’t stay with Wesley right now.”

“I thought they were hitting it off!” Cordelia protested. “She and Wes—”

“Are a couple,” Angel said softly. “Which is why she doesn’t feel comfortable staying with him. I think she said something about them each needing their own space so their relationship could grow. Anyway, she’s going to need a place to stay, and there aren’t a lot of choices.”

Cordelia sighed. It looked as though she was going to get a house guest after all. “For how long?”

Angel leaned back. “Honestly? Probably not that long. Dru’s going to need some help figuring things out, money that sort of thing. I’ll make sure the financials are taken care of, but she needs someone to show her the ropes.”

Cordelia didn’t mind nearly as much as she thought she would. She really liked Drusilla, and thought that they would probably do okay for a while. Not that Cordy wanted a permanent roommate, but it wouldn’t be so bad. It would be nice to have another woman around to balance out all the testosterone, that was for sure.

“Okay,” Cordy finally said. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in such a hurry to get a move on when you’ve been brooding constantly for the last week.”

Angel squirmed uncomfortably. “I wasn’t brooding constantly.”

“Yes, you were,” she replied. “I had to kick your ass to get you to move. So what changed?” Angel was looking anywhere but at her. He mumbled something that Cordelia didn’t quite catch. “What’s that?”

“I saved her, Cordy,” Angel finally said. “That’s all I really wanted to do. Dru went to Spike first, not me. She trusted him, not me. But in the end, I was the one that convinced Wolfram and Hart to leave her alone.”

Cordelia decided not to point out that really Wesley had been the one to save her with his quick thinking, if you wanted to get technical. Or that it had been a team effort, with Tara and Willow providing the magical assistance and Buffy the extra muscle. If Angel needed to believe he’d been the mastermind and had taken care of things by himself, who was she to argue?

As long as he gave her plenty of credit, anyway.

“So where are you going?” Cordelia asked.

“It’s not much,” Angel replied. “Just a basement apartment a lot like the one I had in Sunnydale. We’ll have to keep using your place for the business until I can find something better, but it will do for now.”

Cordelia decided not to argue with him keeping her place as a base of operations. At least she’d have some chance of having her apartment to herself occasionally. “What are you going to do about Drusilla, Angel?” she asked instead. “For money, I mean.”

“I didn’t mention that?” Angel sounded as innocent as a newborn babe. Cordelia knew that was a crock.

She gave him a look. “No, I don’t think you did.”

He grinned at her. “Wolfram and Hart is setting up a trust fund, or I come visiting again. We should be getting the packet in the mail in the next couple of days.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure it was the best idea Angel had ever had. It made them all a little too dependent upon the law firm, for one thing. On the other hand, there was a certain poetic justice there. It only made sense for Wolfram and Hart to foot the bill for Dru, since they were the ones who had brought her back.

“Clever,” Cordelia finally said. “But are you sure they aren’t going to use that against her?”

Angel smirked, looking much more like Angelus in that moment than he had in a while. “Not if they don’t want to be eaten.

~~~~~

Spike slept deeply and dreamlessly, waking once only to roll over and go back to sleep. The sun had gone down by the time he rose, feeling much more like his normal self. It would be a while before he would knowingly risk the sunlight again, of that he was certain.

The burn and the cuts on his hand and wrists were healing nicely. In another day they would disappear completely. His hunger was a sharp pain, reminded him that he hadn’t had nearly enough to eat the last couple days.

Silence greeted him as he entered the kitchen, even though Spike knew that there was at least one other person in the house with him. He wondered where Buffy was, and if anything had really changed between the two of them.

He had changed. Drusilla had been right about his feelings for the Slayer, and it was more than just sexual attraction. He wanted her to see him for what he was—or for what he could be. This wouldn’t be the first time that Spike turned his world upside down for the woman he loved.

Buffy still had to be convinced that things could work between them, however, and Spike had no idea of how to convince her. She liked him enough to come rescue him, but was it enough? Or would they be forever meeting in the darkness, where no one could see them?

Would she somehow manage to convince herself that there was really nothing there worth pursuing?

“Hello, Spike.”

“Joyce.” Spike turned to face her, sensing a wariness in her that hadn’t been there before. “Thanks. For lettin’ me crash here again today.”

“Buffy said you had quite an ordeal,” she replied.

He shrugged. “I’ll be out of your way soon as I get somethin’ to eat.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Buffy.”

“Is she here?”

“She went out on patrol,” Joyce replied. “She wanted to let you sleep as long as you needed.”

Spike smiled. “That was nice of her.” He was thinking that she was probably avoiding him.

“You’re in love with her.”

It was a flat statement, not a question, and Spike sighed. “Is this the talk where you tell me ‘m not good enough for her? ‘Cause if it is, I already know that.”

“I’m not going to say that,” she said. “What I will say is that Buffy deserves someone who can be with her in all areas. You can’t walk in the sunlight with her, Spike. You can’t give her a normal life.”

“The Slayer isn’t a normal girl.” Spike hated himself for saying it, but he wanted to be straight with Joyce. She had been nothing but kind to him, and he felt he owed her the truth at least. “She’s never gonna have a normal life. Slayers don’t get to retire. They don’t get married and have 2.5 kids with a picket fence. If I thought that’s what would make her happy, I’d leave town tomorrow.”

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes blazing in the dim lighting. “That’s all I want—to keep her safe an’ make her happy. I think I can do both.”

Joyce could see why her daughter would be so attracted to this vampire. Spike could make you believe every word he was saying was the gospel truth, and she believed him. Joyce thought that Spike might be exactly what the doctor ordered for her girl, as much as it pained her to admit it.

It hurt to give up dreams of normalcy—of church weddings and grandchildren. It hurt to know what she’d already suspected—that Buffy would most likely not live long enough to do any of that anyway.

Maybe, Joyce thought, Buffy’s destiny was always going to involve a vampire.

She sighed, but said with a smile, “I believe you, Spike. I’m making you responsible for my daughter’s safety.”

Spike relaxed slightly. It felt better than he would have liked to admit to have Joyce give her blessing, even if it was with reservations. “’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “’m sorry it had to be this way.”

It was kind of him to say, and she responded by kissing his cheek in a maternal gesture.
 

Chapter 18: Cloudy With A Chance of Rain

Spike entered the hospital waiting room as casually as possible. He and Buffy had spoken in passing before he left the Summers’ residence for his own crypt. Things had been awkward between the two of them, neither of them certain of where their relationship was headed or what the next step might be. The Slayer had mentioned going to the hospital with Joyce when Spike asked what she was doing the next day, but she hadn’t asked him to come.

He hadn’t offered, either.

Thinking about it later, Spike had realized that it might be a good idea to join Buffy. She could probably use some company, and he didn’t know whether anyone else would be there. Besides, if they were going to do this relationship thing, Spike knew he ought to at least attempt to get along with her friends and family.

It was for that reason alone that he had dispensed with the usual black on black ensemble. He would be changing as soon as he got back to his crypt, of course, but to show respect for Joyce, Spike thought he might try dressing up a bit. She’d been remarkably kind to him, and he wanted to demonstrate his appreciation in some way.

If that meant looking more like a “normal” boyfriend, he’d do it. Occasionally.

Buffy was the first to spot him. She came over to his side immediately. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Spike blinked, trying to figure out if he’d done something wrong by showing up. “Thought I’d keep you company,” he replied uncomfortably. “Where’s your mum?”

“They just took her back,” Buffy replied, making a face. “Of course, she was scheduled to start the tests two hours ago.” She glanced around and then dragged him away, and Spike could see Giles, Willow and Tara off to the side. “I don’t believe you came.”

“You don’t want me here?” Spike asked.

“No,” Buffy replied. “It’s just—” Frowning, she finally noticed that he wasn’t dressed in his usual black jeans and black t-shirt. Instead, he was wearing dark gray pants and a dark blue shirt. “What are you wearing?”

Spike scowled. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

There was nothing wrong with it. Quite the opposite, in fact, and Buffy decided she did not want to jeopardize the chance that Spike might dress more up-scale in the future. “No, it’s just—I’ve never seen you in anything like that before.”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, you know, since I thought I’d visit your mum…”

Spike wasn’t prepared for Buffy’s reaction. She launched herself at him, shoving him back up against the wall, her lips locking to his, and her tongue coming out to play. After a split second, he got over his surprise and began to respond. Buffy finally pulled back to breathe, and Spike just stared at her. “Luv?”

“You are so sweet,” Buffy exclaimed. It meant even more coming from Spike, since getting him out of his black jeans was something along the lines of a miracle. That he would willingly dress a little differently for her mom’s sake—well, that said something.

For a moment, Spike contemplated arguing about being called “sweet,” since that was definitely not an adjective he wanted applied to the Big Bad. On the other hand, as Buffy started kissing him again, it might not be such a bad thing after all.

“I can stay as long as you like, Buffy,” Spike said quietly.

She smiled at him. “Good. It’s going to be a while before Mom’s done. If you could stick around…”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Buffy took a deep breath, realizing that this relationship thing might work after all. Spike was willing to give a little. It boded well for things to come. Sure, she had to make some changes as well, but they might actually meet in the middle.

“I’m glad.”

~~~~~

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to know what was going on. Giles recognized the signs immediately. Spike was dressing differently and showing up in unusual places. Buffy was standing close by him, almost touching, the knuckles of their hands just brushing together.

Of course, the signs were subtle enough that the Watcher might have missed them—had he not already harbored suspicions. Willow and Tara’s quiet snickers and knowing looks only served to confirm his thoughts. Giles rather thought that Willow might have witnessed something more obvious, because she had been rather smug all day, much like when she and Buffy had been sharing secrets back in high school.

Giles decided just to be grateful that his Slayer wasn’t indulging in public displays of affection, since there was no corresponding blindness to protect him.

“I wanted to talk with you, Spike,” Giles said.

The vampire’s expression turned from slightly uncomfortable to suspicious. “Why?”

“It’s about Drusilla and her visions,” Giles replied. “Not to mention what happened with the lawyers. I’d like to know what they offered you in return for your cooperation.”

Spike shrugged. “We didn’t get that far. They made threats, I told them to shove off, an’ then they made more threats. An’ then they left me in a sunny room. Not the best day I’ve ever spent.”

“I dare say not.” While Giles didn’t particularly want to, he could put himself into Spike’s shoes and at least comprehend the discomfort. “I think I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Would you like something, Buffy?”

She hesitated, knowing exactly what Giles was planning and not being too keen on the idea of her Watcher cornering Spike. “I wouldn’t mind a soda, but I can get it.”

Giles ignored her, looking at Tara and Willow. “Would either of you care for anything?”

“A soda would be great,” Willow replied brightly, even as Tara murmured a shy affirmative.

The Watcher looked over at Spike. “Spike? Would you mind helping me?”

Spike actually minded a great deal. On the other hand, this seemed to be one of those things that would be required of him if he wanted to be with Buffy. As much as he wouldn’t mind just getting the Slayer, she came with friends and family.

It had always been one of her most irritating qualities.

“Yeah, why not?” he muttered in reply, following Giles through the hospital corridors towards the cafeteria. Once they were far enough away from the girls, Spike asked, “So you goin’ to give me the speech ‘bout how I’m not good enough for her? Joyce already tried it, an’ I’ll give you the same answer I gave her.”

“Did I say that?” Giles asked. “What happens when the chip stops functioning?”

Spike cocked his head. “What?”

“What happens when the chip stops functioning?” Giles repeated. “You’re not stupid, Spike. You must have thought about it.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Spike replied slowly. “Why are you askin’?”

“Because I want to know what we can expect you to do should the chip cease to function,” the Watcher replied. “If we were to have another Angelus on our hands, I would much prefer to know so that I can make preparations.”

“You mean so you can stake me in my sleep,” Spike replied sarcastically, knowing exactly where this was going.

Giles smiled coldly, sensing that they understood one another quite well. “Buffy seems to be growing fond of you, for some unfathomable reason. If we need to take you out, I’d rather do it before she’s head over heels.”

“She may never get there,” Spike pointed out. “She hasn’t said anythin’ about a relationship. All she’s done was rescue me from a bunch of lawyers, an’ she might have done that for anybody.”

“Perhaps,” Giles allowed. “But the fact remains that she did it for you. So what happens when the chip comes out?”

Spike suddenly found himself pressed up against the wall, and unable to fight back without giving himself a migraine. The man would have his question answered, and he knew when it was time to give in. “Nothin’ happens, Watcher.”

“What do you mean by nothing?”

Spike looked away, unwilling to let his discomfort show. “If what you’re askin’ is if ‘m goin’ to pull an Angelus, you needn’t worry. I don’t want to hurt Buffy. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“What about the rest of us?” Giles insisted.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you listenin’, old man? I said I wouldn’t hurt her, an’ she likes the rest of you. That means you’re safe too.” He glared. “Before you ask, I’d say the same goes for the rest of the population. If I starting munchin’ on the populace, Buffy’d have to stake me, an’ I’m not interested in a dusty endin’.”

Giles was inclined to believe him. If there was anything he’d learned about the vampire, it was that Spike was often ruled by his emotions, his passions. If Spike truly did love Buffy, Giles had no doubt that Spike would remain true to his word.

The question, of course, was whether or not Spike really did love her.

“Vampires aren’t supposed to fall in love with humans,” Giles pointed out.

Spike grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’ve never been normal. Can we leave it at that?”

“No,” Giles said simply. “But we can leave it there for now. Just know, that if you hurt her—”

“You’ll stake me,” Spike said. “I know.”

Giles shook his head. “No, staking would be too quick. I’ll make sure you beg for death before it’s all over.”

Spike looked over at him with new respect. From the expression on the Watcher’s face, he was inclined to believe Giles meant it, and that he would carry out his threat. “Fair enough.”

~~~~~

“So, spill,” Cordelia said after the guys had finally gone home. Angel had moved out the night before, and Wesley had dropped Drusilla off the next morning. Cordy wished she’d had a little more time in between guests, but she also wanted details. There was no way that Dru had spent a couple of days in a hotel room with Wesley without something going on.

Drusilla gave her an arch look. “Spill what?”

“Details!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I know something happened between you and Wes. So? Has he improved as a kisser?”

The light in Drusilla’s eyes turned dreamy, but not from one of her visions. “Mmm.”

Cordelia glared. “Share!”

“It’s not just kissing that he excels at,” Drusilla finally replied.

Cordy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! You and Wes? I never thought he’d get laid. And he was good?”

“Better than good.” The other woman was obviously going off into a happy place. “He was so—right.” In an abrupt change of subject, Drusilla asked, “What does one wear to the beach?”

Cordelia was still trying to process the fact that Wesley was actually good in bed. “Better than good?” she muttered. “Why couldn’t he have shown a little skill when we kissed?”

“You kissed?” Dru asked in surprise. “Are you—”

Cordy waved her hand dismissively. “It was a really long time ago. Ancient history, actually. It’s just—he slobbered on my chin. I don’t get it. When did he practice?”

“Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be?” Drusilla suggested. “Your future may lie with someone else.”

Cordelia frowned. “Someone else?” She looked at Dru sharply. “Do you know anything I don’t?”

“No,” Drusilla hastened to assure her. “I haven’t gotten any visions concerning you.”

Cordy heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I mean, in some ways it would be nice to know my future, but in other ways, it might be kind of weird. Who knows what’s going to change between now and whenever?” She finally caught up to Drusilla’s question. “Why do you need a swimming suit?”

Dru shrugged. “Wesley said he’d take me to the beach.”

“Wesley?” Cordelia was trying to picture Wesley in swim trunks, and was having a very difficult time of it. “Really? He said he’d take you?” She shook her head wonderingly. “You know, I think you might be really good for him. I think we should get you something that’ll curl his toes.”

Drusilla smiled a purely feminine smile. “That would be perfect.”

“We’ll have to go shopping later today, then,” Cordelia decided. “It’ll be fun.”

She might have said something else, but her words were cut off by a short shriek as she clutched her head. “Cordelia?”

Cordy shook her head. “I see—a demon. A big one.” Once the vision had passed, she could talk more normally. “You have to call Angel. We’ve got to stop this thing.”

Dru nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You just lie back now.” Once she’d turned away towards the phone, she grimaced in pain. She was disturbed by the flashes she’d seen of Cordelia being sick—dying, in fact. Killed by her own visions. It wasn’t something she had the cure for, but Drusilla wanted to do something.

She needed to do something.

~~~~~

The summer months were a time of productivity for Xander. He was making twice as much money working construction as he had at his last minimum wage job. Plus, there was overtime, which put him into the happy camper range.

Xander figured the only real drawback to working such long hours was that he rarely got to see his friends. Not that they didn’t spend the odd day together here and there, but he felt much more out of the loop than usual. Witness the recent trek up to L.A. to get Spike back. Not that Xander cared about the bleached non-menace, but he might have liked to go along. Instead, he had to work.

Now, with Joyce in the hospital, Xander wouldn’t have minded spending the day there with Buffy and lending his support. Mrs. Summers wasn’t immediate family, however, and that meant he hadn’t a chance at getting the day off.

Xander was stunned to see Spike as he entered the hospital waiting room, with Anya at his side. Not only was the vampire seated next to Buffy, the Slayer actually seemed to be enjoying his company. Even Giles and Willow, whom Xander would have places squarely into the anti-Spike camp, looked perfectly comfortable with his presence.

“What’s he doing here?” Xander demanded.

The others looked at him in surprise. Well, everyone except for Spike, who had a smirk on his face now that he was fairly certain of his welcome. “What are you talking about, Xander?” Buffy asked with barely concealed impatience.

“Spike.” Xander’s tone was flat. “What’s he doing here, Buffy?”

Buffy gave him a hard look and then leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know, Xander. Why don’t you ask Spike? He’s sitting right there.”

Spike glanced over at her, amused, and then looked at Xander, eyebrow cocked. “Well, Harris?”

If at first you don’t succeed, ignore the irritant. “What is this? You rescued Spike, Drusilla isn’t in danger. Isn’t he supposed to be back in his crypt?” Looking directly at the vampire, Xander clearly enunciated. “We don’t want you here.”

“Who said you could speak for me?” Buffy asked.

Xander blinked. “What—”

Anya put her hand on her boyfriend’s arm. “Xander, let it go.”

“No!” Xander retorted, staring at first Anya then Buffy. “What is it with you and vampires, Buff? I used to think it was just Angel, but apparently you really do like your men undead.”

Before either Buffy or Spike could retort to that rather inflammatory comment, Anya gave Xander a smack on the arm. “What about me?” she demanded.

“Wha—Anya! This isn’t about you!”

“Isn’t it?” Anya gave him a very dirty look. “Every time Buffy gets a new boyfriend, you get upset. Only a stupid person would think you didn’t have some kind of sexual attraction to her.”

Xander took the piece of her statement that he felt he could respond to. “Spike isn’t Buffy’s boyfriend.”

“Yes, he is.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the waiting room after Buffy’s quiet affirmation. Even Spike was knocked speechless, which was really quite a feat. “Buffy—”

“Don’t,” Buffy said quietly. “I’m not going to change my mind just because you disagree.”

A full blown argument might have erupted right there in the waiting room, but the doctor came out and interrupted. “Miss Summers?”

“Yeah?” Buffy said, standing, Spike close behind her. “Is Mom—”

The doctor pulled her away slightly, even though Spike still acted as the Slayer’s shadow. “We’ve found a tumor. They’re taking Mrs. Summers back now in order to do a biopsy. Once we have the results from that, we should know more.”

Buffy took a deep breath, feeling Spike’s arm come around her shoulders. She leaned into him slightly. “When will you know?”

“In a few hours,” the doctor replied in a sympathetic tone. “If you want to go home—”

“I’ll wait,” Buffy replied stubbornly. The voices of her friends behind her seemed muted, and only Spike’s strong arm anchored her. “Spike—”

“Not goin’ anywhere,” he assured her, and felt Buffy lean into him. He had no plans to go anywhere at all.
 

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