George Michael

“Hey, old man, time to rise and shine,” Someone shouted in Spike’s ear, waking him from a deep slumber.

“Bloody, fucking, hell,” Spike muttered, opening his eyes to stare at the digital clock. “It’s 6:30 am and I don’t have to be at the office until ten. Leave me alone.” He rolled over to face away from Dylan, his new partner, when he suddenly wondered how he had gotten in the house. “How did you get in here?”

Dylan plopped down on the end of the bed, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “In the house or in your bed?” Spike kicked out with his foot to shove him off but Dylan reacted and jumped back up, laughing. “Too slow. Reflexes going?” He shrugged. “Some chick let me in.”

“She’s not some chick,” Spike said, sitting up. “Her name is Cordelia and you treat her with respect.”

“She yours?”

“No, she’s a good friend,” Spike said, watching Dylan wander around the room perusing everything. “Now, that I know how you got in here, why are you here?”

“To bond with you,” Dylan said, grinning. He threw his arms out, making his already tight t-shirt accentuate his well defined pectoral muscles. “You and I are to be best buddies, friends and pals according to our boss. I got my ass reamed out yesterday after you left. I got a lecture on how wonderful you are, and that you can teach me so much. So, here I am. Mold me into the perfect demon hunter.”

“Before dawn?” Spike asked, incredulously. “Go away and I’ll see you at the office.”

“Nope, Daddykins, I’m yours.”

“Don’t call me that,” Spike growled before lying back down. “I have no interest in putting up with your shit this early.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Dylan said, reaching for Spike’s cell phone. “I’ll just call Jake and tell him that you’re only available when you decide to wake up. That you have no interest in training me and that someone in your age…”

Spike got up, snatched his phone away, and backed Dylan into the wall. His forearm was against Dylan’s throat. He morphed into his demon guise and gnashed his fangs.

“Someone my age,” Spike said. “Take a century of feeding…just think of how many insolent assholes I’ve left dead.”

“Is that supposed to frighten me? Because it didn’t,” Dylan said, pushing him away before stepping around him. “I’ve killed hundreds of your kind.”

“You don’t know what my kind is,” Spike said, slipping back into his human guise even as he reached for his jeans to cover his nudity.

“Umm, not true,” Dylan said. “I studied you once I found out that you were coming to work for us. Don’t have much use for vampires’ even redeemed ones. They’ll turn eventually…like Angelus.”

“You’re in his house,” Spike said, chuckling softly. “He can also hear every word you say. If you’re not careful you’ll have not one but two pissed off vampires after you.”

The boy shuttered his eyes. A trace of his fear hung between them and that surprised Spike. He cocked his head as he studied the beauty of the creature before him. It was too bad that the outside covered up someone that was so shallow. Kind of like Dorian Gray, Spike thought as he watched as Dylan moved to the dresser and picked up a picture of Buffy.

“This the Slayer you married? I bet she’s a good ride.” He looked up at Spike innocently. “Is she? All those Slayer muscles…”

Spike zipped up his pants then walked slowly across the room. He snatched the picture away and put it back in its place. He let his finger trace the curve of his wife’s face that was displayed behind the glass. He wouldn’t take the bait. His grand-sire was down the hall. To let this boy push him out of control would bring shame to his family, to Buffy, and to himself. This moment would define his entire relationship to Dylan. Either he would always be the one defending himself or he could be the one on the offensive.

“Let’s make a deal,” Spike said softly. “You keep your hole shut about the women in my life and I won’t kill you.”

Dylan shrugged. “Women? Apt choice of words. Let me see,” he counted on his fingers, “Donna…the chick in Florida…your sister-in-law. Did I leave any out? Is it an open marriage? Both of you get to fool around? Because Sunnydale isn’t that far away…”

Spike’s fist slammed into Dylan’s jaw, staggering the young man. There was no anger in his eyes, only a clear-cut line being drawn in the sand.

“I really hope that was you holding back,” Dylan said, laughing and rubbing his jaw. “If that was your best then…”

“We both know it wasn’t,” Spike said, turning and walking out of the room. “I want some fresh blood then we can discuss the terms of our partnership.”

Spike didn’t wait for a response. He headed out of the room and toward the kitchen. He grinned when there was no smartass comment in retaliation, only the sound of footsteps following him. The lesson was just beginning.

~~~~~~~~

Buffy squinted into the sunlight, enjoying the warmth on her face. It was a beautiful day that boasted a few fluffy clouds to dot the wide open blue sky. No tension, or stress, only the laughter of her children to fill her conscience. The girls and Faith had taken off for the mall to do some shopping, giving her some play time with her kids. She sighed and took another sip of her lemonade. Her gaze automatically returned to where Journey and Elijah played on the monstrous swing set / fort combination that Spike had insisted on getting them. She felt a surge of pride for her husband. He always put their children first, no matter what else was going on.

This was the kind of day that she dreamed about when she was younger except then it was Angel that shared her life. So long ago it seemed. The dreams of a girl had given way to the reality of the woman. And she was happy about it. Spike was the one who had fought for her, had stayed even when she had tried to drive him away, had taken her shit and she loved him all the more for it.

She sighed and hugged her knees. The condensation dripping onto her bare legs sent a shiver through her but she didn’t move. She was too content right where she was.

“Mummy, mummy,” Elijah shouted. “Watch me.”

Dutifully, she kept her gaze on her son as he swung upside down on the trapeze. She put her glass down so she could clap her hands for him.

“Woohoo, Eli,” Buffy called, stifling the urge to tell him to be careful. He needed to be a little boy as much as he could.

The sound of a car pulling in made her look around. The SUV came to a stop behind the Navigator. It was Willow and Tara with their two children. She smiled as she watched them climb out, waved to them, before they opened the back doors. The couple was even stronger than they had ever been. Before the birth of their second child, Willow and Tara had both changed their last name. It now matched the last name of their children’s father. He had decided that he wanted to be a part of their lives because he knew he could never have his own family. Friendship, love and time could make any situation workable.

Willow had gone into labor with Tara and Daniel Osborne by her side. Oz’s love for the spunky witch had never dissipated and he had willingly given her the one thing he could. Children. He was rarely in town but he never forgot birthdays or holidays and called on a regular basis.

“Buffy, Buffy,” Daniel Jr. shouted as he ran to her.

She opened her arms and he flew into them.

“Hey, little buddy,” Buffy said. “How you doing?”

Danny laughed, wiggled out of her arms and headed off to play with the other children. His brother, Jacob, was already at the fort. He was quickly climbing to join Elijah in the small tower room. The couple of year’s difference in their ages didn’t even come up in their friendship. The eldest child from each family took his place to rein over the younger ones.

“Hey, Buffy,” Willow said, sitting next to her on the top step as Tara took a seat next to her. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine,” Buffy laughed. “How are the two of you doing?”

“We’re fine,” Tara replied. “We spoke to Xander. He said that they have to stop by the store to pick up a few things then they’ll be here.”

“Good,” Buffy replied, looking out over the yard again. She watched the children running and screaming in their innocent games. She prayed they could be that way for as long as possible.

The family day that her friends had organized was an effort to make her feel less lonely. It wouldn’t work but she had her pride to maintain so it would be smiles all day. She was missing half of herself when Spike wasn’t there. Without conscious thought she made her way toward the children. Laughing, she reached out and touched Journey.

“Tag, you’re it,” Buffy said. She started to jog slowly away from the kids, purposefully waiting for Journey to catch up with her.

“Mummy, wait up,” Journey called as she started to run.

“We’ll help,” Elijah called.

And with that all the children started to chase Buffy. She grinned, grabbed her daughter up in a hug, kissed her cheek then set her down. The children were all advancing on her and she took off running. She sped toward where her friends were sitting but Willow and Tara were waiting, ready to grab her. The kids were screaming for the couple to get her. Buffy laughed again before she catapulted over the picnic table to get away from them.

This was what life was about even when she wasn’t whole. There were times, at night when she was alone that the absence of Spike sounded throughout her being with painful intensity. But other times, times like this, she was beginning to understand that Spike leaving wasn’t just about him finding his way. It was just as much about her learning to live without him beside her. Although it wasn’t her ideal situation, she had to live with it.

And for now, she was okay with that.

~~~~~~~

They were running between the ocean and the sun. The sand sucked at their shoes and the water splashed over them when they couldn’t avoid a wave. Spike’s body felt the strain, sweat poured down his face and bare chest, trailing down his stomach to finally disappear into the waistband of his jogging pants. The few people on the beach that early stared as they passed them. He felt good.

Victories always did even the small ones.

Dylan had kept trying to start conversation earlier but Spike had refused to acknowledge him. He had drunk his blood then a nice, hot cup of coffee while the younger man watched. Once he was sufficiently awake he informed Dylan that they were going to go running. There hadn’t been any argument so here they were, pounding the miles away on the sands of Malibu.

“I’m not going to take orders from you,” Dylan said, as they turned to head the five miles back to the house.

“You will if you have to,” Spike said, smiling because he already knew he was taking control of the partnership.

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” Dylan said, trying to hold onto his arrogance in the face of someone he knew was more experienced than he was.

“Everyone has something to learn,” Spike said, indulgently as he jumped over a wave and sped up.

“I still think you’re going to wimp out and head home for your family,” Dylan said, as he started to pant from trying to keep up with the vampire.

“They’re what makes me strong.”

“I’m going to enjoy taking you down a peg or two.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything about being around you,” Spike said, laughing. “You’re an arrogant prick that annoys me.”

“As long as we understand each other,” Dylan said, laughing along with Spike as the two settled back into an easy pace for the duration.

Kid Rock

For two days he’d been stuck in this god forsaken land of sun. He hated it. Sun gods, sun worshipers and the sun itself sparkling and ricocheting off buildings and cars until you felt like you were on fire. Spike took another drag off his cigarette. Buffy would kill him for picking up the habit again but it was the only thing keeping him sane here. He laughed, yeah, that and the aqua ardiente he was drinking like it was water.

Some pretty little senorita screeched down at the pool. Spike turned to watch as Dylan chased her through the water then dragged her under with him. His partner was quite popular here. Pretty, young and blonde and the ladies were following him like he was candy.

They’d tried to follow Spike too but he figured the attitude he was projecting was enough to drive them away. It certainly wasn’t his wedding ring. He wasn’t wearing it. His thumb caressed his ring finger missing the familiar weight that was normally there. It was safer not to give the enemy any more ammunition to hold over him so it had been left locked away in Angel’s safe.

The only woman he wanted wasn’t here. For a moment he indulged his imagination, picturing Buffy lying by the pool. The golden brown of her skin contrasting with the tiny white bikini she’d wear. Later she’d come up to their room and he would make love to her while she smelled of sunshine, coconuts and sweat. Let her drown him instead of the infernal brightness that was this city. He missed her, missed the routine, the sex, the laughter and everything that was Buffy. It had seemed so long since he could look at her, touch her, or make love to her. He wondered briefly if he had time for a quick wank before Dylan returned to the room. Something to pass the time that might have a little pleasure in it.

It wasn’t going to happen though.

The beeping of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts and with a sigh he returned inside. The chill of the air conditioned room hitting his sweat soaked skin sent a chill through him. He grabbed his shirt with one hand and the phone with the other.

“Spike, here,” he said, shrugging into the traditional Guayabera shirt.

“Hey, buddy, its Bob here. It’s time to roll out.”

“Half hour.”

“Yep, see ya then.”

The mere thought of being outside sent a sharp pain through Spike’s head. He grabbed the bottle of aspirin, shook out a few and washed them down with some more tequila. Only a few days away from home and he was going to shit in a hand basket. He shrugged, dismissing his behavior, as he leaned over the railing. Giving a pre-designated signal, Spike pursed his lips and gave a long whistle to catch Dylan’s attention. The young man looked up, grinned and waved. Spike watched as he made his way to the side of the pool and grabbed a towel.

“Sorry, Mia, but I’ve got to go,” Dylan said to the young woman he’d been playing with.

“Tell your pappi you want to stay outside,” Mia pouted, putting her hand on Dylan’s arm.

Dylan only laughed and pulled away while Spike seethed. “His Dad? Who does that silly bint think she is? I don’t look old enough to be his father.”

He slammed the sliding glass door shut. The girl’s comment only gave him one more reason to hate this place. Back home he was somebody, even if he wasn’t exciting. His sigh was even heavier as he slipped his feet into huaraches, leather sandals, and started to button up his shirt. His traditional black attire had been ditched in an effort to be comfortable in the heat. The humidity made everything stick to your body like a second skin.

His misery in dealing with the climate almost made him wish for the days when he had been pure vampire. The heat hadn’t seemed as bad when he had come through the country with Drusilla. Of course, they had slept through the days and had only traveled by night when it was cooler. Maybe that trip was why he hated this place so much. There was nothing like getting caught in the middle of a Day of the Dead celebration with a loon who thought they wanted to worship her.

“What’s the matter with you, Daddykins?”

“If you don’t quit calling me that,” Spike warned, donning the straw hat to hide his hair. “I’m going to…”

“What?” Dylan asked, laughing. “You’re going to beat me?”

He grabbed clean jeans and t-shirt from the dresser. Spike had tried to tell him to wear more traditional garb but Dylan had shrugged and said he wasn’t going to look like a geek.

“Hell, no, you’d like that.”

“Probably,” Dylan said, zipping up his pants. “Where are we meeting them?”

“The Panteon Delores cemetery,” Spike said, enjoying the uncomfortable look on Dylan’s face. “We’re going grave robbing.”

~~~~~~~~

This moment had been coming for days now. Max still wasn’t ready, still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do but he couldn’t avoid Faith forever. She wasn’t the kind of woman that could be ignored. No, she had to make her presence known one way or another even if it was to purely drive him crazy. The only thing he knew was that he didn’t want to play anymore.

“Hey, whatcha up to?” Faith asked from the doorway where she was leaning against the frame. Her arms were crossed and one foot was in front of the other, balanced on the pointed toe of her boot. Beautiful, deadly, and what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

Max sighed and turned the lock on the gun cabinet. His hand ran along the smooth oak wood before depositing the key ring back in his pocket. Procedure would have to wait a few minutes as he turned to face her.

“Closing up for the day,” Max said, meeting her eyes. Never show fear even when faced with imminent death. It only made the dying all that much more painful. “What are you doing?”

“Already finished,” Faith said, uncoiling herself and sauntering toward him. “Do you want to go and get some dinner?” Her hands ran up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “We can get out of here for awhile and relax.”

Say yes, a part of him screamed, take what you can get but there was the other part still whispering at him. The part of him that wondered what he wanted with a girl like Faith. Bad girls had never been his type. He had always like ladies, girls that needed a shoulder to cry on, women that were feminine even in the heat of battle. Brianna had been like that. Fred and Buffy both were. So, he wondered why he couldn’t walk away from this spitfire that wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Because you already know you’ve lost.

Max ignored the whisper and slipped his arms around her. He kissed the corner of her mouth and nuzzled her cheek.

“Why don’t we really go out? I’ll take you to the Panorama,” Max said, naming a fancy restaurant that was on the 30th floor of a building in downtown Los Angeles. “You in a dress, me in a suit, drink champagne, eat fancy food we can’t pronounce.”

“You could pronounce it,” Faith said, pulling away. The flirtatious look on her face slipped away. “You know I don’t like that kind of thing.”

“Have you tried it?”

“I’m not all girly girl like that.”

“Okay,” Max said, dropping the subject. He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms. “What did you have in mind?”

“I thought we could go out to Hank’s Bar and Grille,” Faith said, stepping between his legs and leaning against him. “Shoot some pool, drink some beer…”

“You’ll tease me all night then send me home to a cold shower.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me for the past few days?” Faith asked. “Because I wouldn’t have sex with you the last time we went out.”

“The last time and the time before and the time before…”

“So, are you giving me an ultimatum?” Faith asked, rocking back on her heels and her hands on her hips. “Fuck you or it’s over.”

“Define it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This…us…what is it?” Max asked. “I want to date you. I want a relationship with you. What do you want? Where does all this hanging out, making out, lead up to? Anything?”

“I…need time,” Faith said softly. “Come on. We have fun together.”

“Yeah, I do have fun with you.” Max cupped her face, letting his thumb brush across her cheek. “Tell me what you want. Is it really so hard?”

Faith stepped away from him. “Why do we have to…define anything?” She swung her arms out before bringing them back across her stomach. “And where did this come from? Everything seemed fine until you headed out to Vegas.”

“I guess I’ve been thinking that’s all.”

“Look, I didn’t come in here to fight. I’m tired. It’s been a bitch of a day and I wanted to go out and have some fun. You up for it or not?”

“I guess not,” Max said.

He watched the expressions on her face hoping for a clue but there was nothing. Nothing that would help him make a decision.

“Your loss,” Faith said, jutting her chin out before turning on her heel and walking away.

“Is it Angel?”

Faith stiffened but didn’t turn around.

“What?” She looked briefly over her shoulder at him but refused to meet his eyes.

“Is the reason you’re holding back because of Angel? Are you waiting for Cordelia to die so you can have a chance?”

“It’s not that,” Faith said, defiantly. “You know that I cared for someone else before…I died.” She hung her head for a moment. “And you know that I had to get over him since he had found someone else while I was gone. Why bring up Angel now?”

“Because you have a crush on him,” Max said softly. “He’s your hero. The one that’s been there to pick you up and make you believe in yourself.”

“He’s also married.”

“She’s dying.”

“You don’t think very much of me, do you?”

“I think a lot of you. That’s the problem.”

“Max, do you really think we have a chance?” Faith asked, coming close again. “I mean just listen to this conversation. I’m saying beer and pool and you’re talking about fancy dinners. We’re complete opposites.”

“And so are you and Angel,” Max said softly. “He’s not much of a beer guy either. He’s into the opera and ballet.”

“You’re telling me that I don’t have a chance with Angel but I have a chance with you? That makes a whole lot of sense.”

Max sighed as he counted up his losses. It was time to go home. By himself.

“I’m sorry, Faith,” Max said, twirling a lock of her hair. “I’m just not much into whiling away the time anymore. It seems that you and I want different things.” He sighed. “I think I had better get out before you break my heart completely.”

And with that he walked away from yet another dream.

~~~~~~~~

The grass crunched beneath his feet. Sometimes it reached over to tickle at his feet with the edge of its green tips. He resisted the urge to scratch his irritated skin and tried to concentrate on the job at hand. Spike looked out over the landscape where thousands of graves were laid out. Grudgingly he gave respect to the people of this land that revered its dead as well as it did the living.

Each plot was well tended, many were built up with white-washed cement or patterned tiles. Grottos built into the stone were filled with incense, candles, statues or family photos. It only testified to the love that the deceased still received. The crypts were extravagant and often had a door leading downward into the vaulted rooms where the dead were interred.

Spike sighed deeply. It was morbid but he hoped this time when his life was over that someone would care enough to mark his passing. There would something to say he had been there. He knew his children were the greatest testimony of his life but having just disappeared before there was a part of him that wanted someone to know. And to care.

“You coming?” Dylan asked, passing him.

He nodded and followed the younger man. They were on the search for a crypt that had recently been disturbed. All they knew was that it was this cemetery, by a large tree and was protected by a cherub with a broken wing. They were hoping to find almost fifty thousand dollars in stolen jewelry and cash. Their skip, part demon, and therefore unable to be held by human jails was being sought by the man who had been robbed. The reward was high. Mostly it was for the recovery of the jewelry which had been in their family for awhile.

Bob and Ted had been spending their afternoon approaching certain contacts that wouldn’t have taken to the ‘prettier’ partners. The underbelly of Mexico City rarely took to gringos anyway, much less two that didn’t look like they understood hardship. And who couldn’t understand the abject poverty that much of the city lived in.

The clues had been given. The demon unworried that he was being followed had made their job easier. First order of business was to recover the jewels, the second to find the demon and turn him over to the Guardians for prosecution. The system was slowly changing but not enough for equality yet.

A scent drifted on the breeze, teasing at Spike’s senses. It was delicate like magnolia in the waning daylight deep in the south. Deciding to trust his instincts he turned and followed it. Dylan continued the direction they had previously been trekking. Separation wasn’t the wisest choice but the sun was still high in the sky. Distance wasn’t yet over a shout wide so he continued. It grew stronger as it wrapped around him on the light breeze that filtered around the crypts.

It was a fresh bouquet laid in front of the gates of small mausoleum. The plaque announcing it was the final resting place of a woman that had been adored by her husband and children. Tears sprang to his eyes and a fervent hope in his heart that this wasn’t an omen of some sort.

“You okay?” Dylan asked from behind him.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Spike said, “Thought I saw something.”

“You did.”

Spike looked to where his partner was pointing. Above the door was the tiny angel statue with the tip of one wing broken. They had found it. Dylan flipped open his phone and radioed the other men to their location. Spike crouched to take a closer look at the bouquet that rested on the edge. He peered closer, his brows wrinkling as he poked a finger at it. It was plastic. Putting his head back he sniffed the air. The scent was gone. Nothing left on the wind but the smell of the grass, dirt, and the men who accompanied him.

A shiver ran down Spike’s spine as he contemplated what had happened. It couldn’t be anything and he chalked it up to a shift in the currents. Thus dismissed from his mind he turned his attention back to where Bob was breaking the lock. The crowbar was wrapped in the chain to gain leverage. It took the strength of three before they were able to snap it.

“Let’s see what’s going on,” Ted said, as pulled the chain out from around the bars. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed that this is what we are looking for.”

The gate swung open. And as the metal separated a blast threw the four men away from the grave. The last thing Spike saw was the grass coming up to greet him as he landed with a thud then he fell into a well of darkness.

To be continued….

Chapter 8 - Trouble

You think your right

But you were wrong

You tried to take me

But I knew all along

You can take me for a ride

Cause I’m not a fool out

So you better run and hide

I’m trouble

Yeah trouble now

I’m trouble ya’ll

Pink

The fact that he was pissed off was Spike’s first thought as he opened his eyes to find a chuckling Dylan staring down at him. The fact the young man was laughing at him only made Spike angrier but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead he grabbed his partner’s proffered hand. Once he was on his feet he did a quick mental check for injuries. Save for the bump from where his head hit the bench, he was okay.

He looked around at the other men, hoping they had escaped injury. It wasn’t the case though. Although Ted seemed to be fine, Bob wasn’t. Being closest to the gate he seemed to have taken the brunt of the blast. His flesh was a fiery red from a burn that started at his hand and trailed nearly along the entire length of his arm. A loud string of curses filled the air clearly letting Bob’s anger be known.

Finally, Spike turned his eyes to Dylan. Their eyes met before he ran his eyes over the younger man. Blood dripped down Dylan’s arm and Spike followed the flow upwards to where a deep gash had ripped through the shoulder of his t-shirt.

“You okay?” Spike asked, taking Dylan’s arm. He pulled the shirt back, fingering the cut lightly.

“Yeah,” Dylan said, standing up straighter. “I’m fine.”

It had to hurt but Spike knew that Dylan wouldn’t admit it. He was the youngest of the group and often took the other’s ribbing. Spike didn’t pursue it knowing that Dylan would lose face with the others if he admitted to any kind of weakness.

“We ready to try this again,” Bob said, nodding toward the crypt.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Spike said. “I’ll go first.” He shifted to his game face for better vision. Dylan’s eyes grew wide but the others only nodded at his decision and his change. With the others following Spike crept down the steps leading into the tomb.

The air was cool but only slightly musty smelling. Someone had to have opened the doors recently and let in fresh air. There was no light at the bottom but candles had been placed on small shelves on the walls. Spike pulled his lighter out and lit them so the others could see. The sarcophagus was in the center of the space. On top of it was placed settings for what appeared to be a meal. Dinner plates, wine goblets, and a candelabra decorated it.

“Wonder who was planning on eating here,” Dylan said, sarcastically as he played with a plate.

“Don’t touch that,” Spike said. “Not until we’ve had a chance to look at them.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Detective,” Dylan said, stepping back and throwing his hands up. “You do the investigating and I’ll do the fighting.”

Spike and the others ignored Dylan as they stepped closer to the sarcophagus to inspect it. Ted took control, holding the candle aloft and looking over the top. He moved one of the plates then bent over to look where the lid and base met.

“Look at this,” Ted said. “See, where some of the stone has been chipped away.” He straightened up and pointed toward the plates. “And the plates have smudges in the dust. They’ve been moved recently.”

“Well, well,” Bob said. “Hopefully, this is what we’re looking for. Hate the thought of disturbing somebody for nothing.”

“Yeah, really,” Ted said. “Okay, let’s clear this top and see.”

The four men quickly removed the dinnerware and placed them carefully on the floor. Each of them took a corner of the lid and waited for Ted’s signal.

“Go slow,” Ted said. “If the front was rigged, this might be too.”

Slowly they lifted the lid, muscles tensing as they waited for something to happen. They were relieved when there were no explosions, no clouds, and nothing jumping out at them. They laid the top on the floor. Taking several cautious steps forward, they leaned over to peek inside. A woman’s body was laid out, her arms crossed. The black dress clung to her skeletal remains, caked in dust and soot but they ignored this and gave their attention to the bag by her feet.

“Go on, Dylan,” Bob said, grinning as he pushed the younger man forward. “Check it out.”

“Whatever,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes. He moved the bag slowly, alert for any danger. “I need some light.” Spike moved forward taking one of the candles to hold over the bag. Dylan unzipped it, moving the sides apart. He looked up with a grin. “It’s the jewels and there is still some cash in here.”

“Thank God,” Ted said. “Get it out of there and let’s go.”

The team worked quickly to replace everything so they could leave. Spike was relieved that it had gone as easy as it did. Now, they had to find the demon before they could return to California. The gate was left propped up against the fence around the crypt. He felt bad that they had desecrated someone’s grave but it wasn’t them that had chosen this location.

Plans were made to meet up shortly after nightfall to pursue their perpetrator. Spike turned to follow Dylan back to the truck they had rented for their stay. He held his hand out for the keys. Before he had just given into the young man’s need to have control but this time his injuries prevented it. Spike was surprised when there wasn’t any resistance. Dylan laid the keys in his outstretched palm before crawling into the truck and huddling against the passenger door.

Concern filtered through Spike, surprising him that he even gave a damn.

~~~~~~~~

Spike caught the door before it was slammed in his face. He didn’t say anything just followed Dylan into their hotel room. The kid was angry that he had stopped to pick up first aid supplies. He waited while Dylan grabbed clean clothes from the dresser and started for the bathroom.

“The cut needs to be cleaned,” Spike said calmly. “You can’t reach it.”

“Your point?”

“My point is that you need to let me do it.”

“Fuck off,” Dylan spat. “I’ve dealt just fine without you in my life.”

Dylan started to close the door in his face but Spike caught it. His partner’s reaction was a little extreme for the situation and it only added to the confusion Spike had been feeling since he had discovered Dylan had been injured. Maybe it wasn’t his place to take care of Dylan but they were partners, weren’t they?

“You’re going to be demon bait with an open wound like that,” Spike stated. “But I’m not going to fight you over it. It’s your life, right?” He handed Dylan the bag, let go of the door and stepped back, shaking his head as the door was shut in his face. “Maybe I’ll enjoy watching you get munched on as a late night snack.”

Spike grabbed his cigarettes from the dresser and headed for the balcony. He smiled at the welcome burn of smoke as it made its way into his lungs. Only another day and he’d have to give them up again. Return to being responsible Spike. He gripped the railing as he looked down to the almost empty pool. He turned around when he heard a muffled sound from the bathroom. The door was still closed but the garbled sound returned. Without thinking he made his way back into the room.

He’s probably wanking off, Spike thought, which makes you an old perv for listening.

Spike stopped in his tracks when Dylan made the noise again. But it couldn’t be what he thought it was. It almost sounded like a whimper or a muffled sob. The concern he had been trying to deny returned. There was something going on inside the kid that totally blew away all Spike’s preconceived notions about Dylan. Before he could decide what to do about it, the water stopped running. Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, Spike hurried back to the balcony.

When a litany of cuss words followed his retreat, Spike smiled. This was the Dylan he knew. The Dylan he could handle. He stubbed out his cigarettes while he waited. He still needed a shower and to check out his own injury. A careful inspection by his fingertips let him know that the cut had almost healed but he still needed to get the dry blood off.

The bathroom door banged open.

“I can’t reach it,” Dylan said, thrusting the bag toward Spike.

Resisting the urge to smile, Spike took it and dumped it on the bed. He stepped into the bathroom and grabbed the wet washcloth. Returning he sat on the edge of the bed and waved to the floor.

Dylan sighed before plopping on the floor between Spike’s legs. The subjection of the act sent a new awareness through Spike. An intense paternal need to care for this young man at his feet swept through him. Dylan couldn’t possibly be aware of the vulnerability of his position. Clad only in a towel, his hair wet and swept to the side, his head bowed with the back of his neck an open invitation to the vampire behind him.

Forcing himself to the task at hand, Spike inspected the wound and surrounding area. Despite the shower there were still streams of dried blood across the flesh of Dylan’s arms and back. Spike worked on those first. His hand flat was against the skin to hold it taut so he could scrub the blood off.

Neither spoke words but the act between them said more than anything spoken could say. Spike could read the emotions that radiated off of Dylan. The fear, the resignation, the confusion and the hope were all hanging in the space between them. Spike’s motions slowed to an almost gentle caress as he moved to the wound itself. He knew it had taken a great deal for Dylan to ask for his help. He could only hope that he didn’t jeopardize their partnership by doing the wrong thing.

The skin around the wound was clean and Spike turned his attention to the injury itself. The stone bench had ripped through the tender flesh and bits of granite were still imbedded in the cut.

“It’s going to sting,” Spike said, softly as he ran the cloth through the jagged edges. Dylan flinched but remained silent. Spike blew on it gently; Buffy had always done that when their own children were injured. Another chill ran through Dylan and Spike could almost see the retraction and release of the younger man’s skin in response. “Almost done,” Spike said, double checking that he had left nothing behind. Once he was satisfied that it was clean, he applied the antibiotic cream. Next were the bandages, then when he was finished, he patted Dylan’s shoulder. “All done.”

He expected Dylan to jump up, not thank him and continue on like nothing had happened. Instead the young man moved to his knees and turned to face him. Neither of them moved as they studied the other while unspoken words danced between them. There was a different vibe coming from Dylan now. It was sending a knot of worry though Spike’s gut. They were balancing on a high wire and one wrong move could damage any hope of them ever getting along.

“Would you change?” Dylan asked. “I’ve never seen a…vampire up close before.”

“Thought you had killed hundreds of my kind,” Spike teased, but found himself shifting without really concentrating.

“I have,” Dylan replied. “I’ve been hunting demons since I was fourteen. Didn’t have much of a choice where I came from. I’ve just never taken the time to…you know…get close to one.” His fingers hesitated before they traced the ridges on Spike’s face. Dylan followed them over his forehead, down his nose and finally down to his mouth. Their eyes met for one brief second before Dylan poked a finger between his lips to touch a fang.

The caress sent a jolt of electricity skittering through Spike’s being and he pulled back.

“Sorry,” Spike said, with an uncomfortable laugh. “They’re really sensitive.”

The hand that had touched him fell to rest on his thigh. “Sorry…I just wanted to know…”

“It’s okay,” Spike said. The confusion from earlier had only intensified. There had been an almost sexual feeling to Dylan’s touch but the kid hadn’t given any indication of being gay. All he knew was that he didn’t want to scare Dylan away or hurt him. “Don’t worry about it, but I think…we need to get going. The others are going to be waiting for us.”

The young man’s face shuttered closed again as he stood and turned away. Spike didn’t say anything just got his own stuff before heading for the shower. Standing under the spray he replayed the day in his mind. There were just so many emotions running through him that he couldn’t figure them all out. He considered calling Buffy to help ease his troubled mind. But the thought was quickly pushed aside as he realized it wasn’t the comfort of his wife’s love that he needed but the guidance of Angel, his Sire.

~~~~~~~

Music from the cantina poured out into the narrow street, reverberating against everything until he could feel the echo inside his head. Smoke hung heavy in the air, some of it the sting of tobacco and some the sweet scent of marijuana but all of it was burning his throat. The eyes were glued to him in open hostility as Spike made his way through the crowds. The swagger of the big bad was his only warning as he moved among them.

They parted, letting him through, but their whispers followed him. Their whispers spoke of surprise, idle offers of drugs, and warnings for the gringos to leave before it was too late. Spike ignored them. The only concern he had was the hyper adrenaline that rolled off of Dylan. He was too jumpy in this crowd, too much of a novice to be able to handle the trouble they might have. Spike could only hope that he’d follow orders and not get them killed.

Without hesitation he pushed open the door and stepped into the crowded interior. No one paid attention to the two strangers as they made way to the bar. Spike pushed his way in between two men, sitting on the only free stool. He leaned back to Dylan.

“Go check stuff out,” Spike said. “See if you can find anything of interest.”

The boy disappeared into the throng as Spike turned back and ordered a corona. There was tension in the men that sat on either side of him but he only took a long swallow of the cold beer. His eyes never left the mirror in front of him. Spike scanned the crowd, looking for their mark, looking for trouble, and keeping an eye on his partner.

Something Dylan had said earlier had stuck with him, nagging at him with its contradiction. He had said he’d been fighting demons since he was fourteen which was almost ten years ago. So, why was Dylan so nervous on this trip? He should be hardened even more than he was. The kid had a thick armor but underneath he seemed to be mush and that didn’t make sense.

Before his musings could get too deep, Spike caught a glimpse of who they were looking for. Tall, ugly, long white hair and a gait like a baboon. Yep, it was the demon they were after. He did another sweep of the room to find his partner. Anger flashed through him as he saw Dylan chatting with a waitress. Their mark was within touching distance. The kid would be dead before he could have a chance to react.

Dylan’s eyebrow went up as he caught Spike’s gaze. One hand came up to scratch his chest and then almost without notice one finger pointed to their mark.

Misjudged the little bastard again, Spike thought as he slid from the stool. Casually, he moved through the crowd, smiling at the women as he fumbled in his pocket for change. Anyone looking at him would think he was heading to the jukebox in the corner but he was coming up behind the demon. It would be cornered between him and where Dylan was still making time with the girl.

There were only a few more steps to go when the demon must have been spooked by something because he took off through a side door. Spike hurried after him, noting the sound of Dylan’s cowboy boots against the concrete floor. He grinned. Maybe this was going to work out after all. They burst through to the outside within seconds of each other.

“Where did the…?” Dylan started but was stopped by the raising of Spike’s hand.

Spike put his head back and sniffed the air. It wasn’t hard to follow the rank stench of the unwashed demon.

“The roof,” Spike said, heading for the iron ladder on the side of the building. He quickly climbed to the top with his partner on his heels. There was no one there, missed him by a moment because it was running across the roof next door. Spike ran to the side, noted the distance and climbed to the edge.

“Get the truck,” Spike said. “Follow us on the ground.”

Dylan looked over the chasm between the buildings before nodding and turning back. Spike felt confident in his back up as he leaped to the next rooftop. All he had to do was keep up and they would catch this guy. The chase was on. The demon turned, seemingly surprised that a human was tailing him. It picked up speed and so did Spike.

They ran across the rooftop then both leapt to the next one as the demon sought freedom. Spike felt the rush as he ran. All his senses were heightened as he moved. The cool night air on his skin, the gravel biting his skin as it worked its way into his sandal, the sweat as it ran down his back, and the calling of his own demon.

Nothing can beat this, he thought as he seemed to fly from one building to the next. Except maybe a really good fuck.

Spike grabbed his phone as it beeped.

“What’s up?” Spike said.

“You’re running out of buildings,” Dylan said. “See if you can chase it down into the alley in the back...less people there.”

“Be waiting,” Spike said, as he picked up speed to come up beside the demon.

It shifted its course and leapt down onto the ground. It wasn’t quite where he wanted it to go but at least it wasn’t out in the front where the crowds were. He heard a scuffle as he jumped. Dylan was putting an all out effort in trying to contain their prey. Spike ran into the fray, wrapping the white hair around his hand and pulling. From there the creature didn’t stand a chance as they subdued it. They restrained it with handcuffs that were made with a fortified alloy to be able to hold those with super strength.

A call was made to the others that they’re mission was accomplished. Arrangements were made to meet at the airport and they were on their way. The road out of town to the private airstrip was quiet and Spike was driving faster than he should. It felt good though. They were on a high. Despite all their doubts about working together, it had turned out better than they had thought.

Suddenly, Dylan stuck his head out the window and started laughing.

“What are you doing?” Spike asked, laughing at the sight.

“Whoo, it’s been a hell of a night,” Dylan said, with a crazy grin on his face as he looked back at Spike. “It was bloody fantastic and you are one loco motherfucker.”

Spike grinned back. “What can I say? I’ve always been bad.”

to be continued…

Chapter 9 – I Will Take Care of You

When the daylight disappears

When you’re haunted, I’ll be near

When the shadows come to call

When you’re too scared to stand tall

I can stand tall

Dream and let your dreams go

It’s your turn to fly

Long as I’m standing by

You can close your eyes

I will take care of you

The Bangles

The confusion hadn’t dissipated. It had only grown in intensity as things had returned to the normality of what he expected. Spike and the crew had been back in Los Angeles for two days now. Today they had returned to work. It had been a small job that had been completed in a few hours. And Dylan had returned to being a complete son of a bitch with insults being freely tossed about.

Spike stood ankle deep in the surf enjoying the feel of the icy water as it washed over his feet. He considered a swim but swimming alone in the middle of the night didn’t hold any appeal. It would only remind him of the time that Angelus had made him swim for his undead life. He sighed and threw his head back, breathing deep of the salty air before returning to the house.

There was a light on in the kitchen and knew he had been offered his opportunity on a platter. After washing and drying his feet, he padded over the cool tile to where he knew he might receive some answers. Spike stopped in the doorway, observing his grand-Sire pouring a glass of blood.

“Hey,” Angel said. “Want some?”

“No thanks,” Spike said. “Is…is she better?”

Cordelia had been in almost intolerable pain earlier and had to be coaxed into upping her dosage of morphine. She wasn’t ready to die yet and although she was building a tolerance to the drug, she also knew it was how many patients died. A few drops too many added in the IV would lead to the release from more than just the pain.

“She’s sleeping,” Angel replied, wearily as he replaced the decanter in the refrigerator. “Come in and keep me company.”

A shiver ran down Spike’s back. It sounded like Angelus. The one he really sought advice from. His foot hovered over the invisible line between rooms knowing that if he went in that he would be crossing more barriers than he might be ready for. He had to know though and as he stepped into the room, he felt like he was stepping into his past.

Angel had taken a seat at the table as Spike wandered around the room. Unsure of how to ask without revealing too much but it probably wouldn’t matter in the end. His Sire would know the truth behind his questions. Vulnerability to Angelus was never tolerated and he still tried to keep that façade with Angel. There was no one else that could explain though, no one else to teach him, just as it had been after he was turned.

“Did you…how did you…feel toward your children?” Spike asked, knowing he sounded like the confused William who had sought answers on why the family was the way it was. “Did you love us?”

“There was a time when I would have said that I was incapable of it,” Angel said. “No soul, no capability of love but now…I know it is possible.” He laughed. “Why do you want to know? Planning on turning someone?”

Spike shook his head because speech was difficult. “I…Do you miss it…us?”

“No,” Angel said, turning to catch Spike’s eyes. “What’s going on with you, Spike? Did you run into someone that has you all turned inside out?” He paused. “Did you have a childe that you never told me about?”

“No, Drusilla would never have tolerated it,” Spike said. He went to stand at the breakfast bar, his fingers drifting over the magazines stacked there. “Is it the same love that you have for a mate?”

Spike heard Angel putting the glass down and could feel the tension rising in the room.

“Is this about Drusilla?”

“No, it’s about…me,” Spike said, so softly that it was barely audible.

“Do you want to know if I was in love with you?”

“Not that…I know the answer but the other…all the other things…how is it different?”

Angel sighed loudly. “Why are you bringing this up now? Does it really matter?”

“To me it does,” Spike said, turning away. “I need to know.”

He could hear Angel stand, the chair scraping of the chair legs across the floor, and he could almost see his Sire’s hands going into his pocket. It was like he was the fledging Childe again waiting to be punished, to be brought to task or brought to bed.

“You were special to me,” Angel said. Spike shivered as the tone and inflection became pure Angelus. “You were like a present given to me by Drusilla. I had a male playmate, someone who would share the games with me like the women wouldn’t. And someone new to share my bed…”

“The times you raped me,” Spike bit out, then dreading his words as he listened to his master walk up behind him. He had left himself vulnerable but he couldn’t move. Angel’s hand slipped beneath Spike’s shirt to rest on his back. His fingers kneading that spot that Spike had forgotten that anyone but Buffy knew about. The sensation sent messages straight to his cock that this was pleasure.

“It wasn’t always rape, William,” Angel whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. “There were times when you came crawling to me, begging for my touch.”

Spike closed his eyes, hating his weakness. It was the call of the blood, of the demon, of family. If Angel wanted him here and now, he would succumb, he would have to. His Sire would accept no disobedience and if Spike allowed it, he would bring great pleasure, too.

“Yes, I did,” Spike said, turning his head so that he could look into the eyes that used to hold so much power over him. “But did you love me?”

Hands cupped his cheek. “Yes, I loved you, wanted you, protected you and I was your father, but always your better and always the one to be obeyed. It is the way of the Sire, Childe relationship. You had no voice in the relationship except what I gave you. No matter how much you tried to fight it.” A thumb caressed Spike’s cheek before drifting over his lips. “Is this about Dylan?”

Spike nodded as his eyes closed because he was too afraid of the truth.

“You are still a demon no matter how domesticated your life might become,” Angel said, hands moving to Spike’s shoulders. “It is like now. We remember, we want but we have become too humanized to answer the call. Your demon is seeking a companion, more and less than a mate, a childe to teach and share with. It is as it has always been for our kind. But remember, Spike, the man in you has always been stronger than the demon. Trust yourself. You won’t go too far.”

“Thank you,” Spike said, stepping back. “I’m going to go and call Buffy.”

Angel only nodded as Spike headed for the doorway. He was about to step into the living room when Angel’s voice made him hesitate.

“Yes, William, sometimes I miss those days…and you.”

It was all his heart needed to hear. Spike nodded and walked away almost hearing an audible closing of the door to his past. It was a place that he knew he would never visit with Angel again. Sometimes you only get one shot to understand.

~~~~~~~~

Buffy winced as the Navigator bounced through another large rut in the dirt road. She made a mental note to have it checked out before Spike came home for a visit. Her decision wasn’t based on fear of him being angry with her but to protect him from worrying about something else. She nibbled on her lower lip as she looked for the gated entrance where she was supposed to meet her husband. His call, late the evening before, had worried her.

There was something more than just needing to see her that was bothering him. She just couldn’t tell if he was hurting, feeling guilty about something or both. Her first instinct had been to immediately go to Los Angeles but he wouldn’t let her. And, she admitted as she sighed, that bothered her too. Was he hiding something from her? Did he found that something else that would take him away? She pushed away her doubts. There was no reason to distrust him because things were better than ever between them. She would hold onto that no matter what.

The sun glinted off of something and Buffy squinted to make sure it was the motorcycle. It was. She smiled as she caught her first glimpse of her husband in what seemed forever. His head was bowed as he leaned against the cycle. Dangling in his fingers was a cigarette.

Don’t nag, just love him, Buffy thought as she pulled in behind him.

Buffy watched as he opened the gate and motioned her through. She waited while he locked up again and climbed on his motorcycle. Down the path was a lake where there was once going to be vacation homes but the plan had never panned out. The property was still held onto by Aurelius Enterprises. She followed him down to the clearing that overlooked the water.

They were as isolated as two people could be and Buffy grinned as she watched Spike stride toward the truck. He was opening the door before she could even take the keys out. She turned toward him as he reached for her. His hands were sliding along her thighs, underneath the small denim skirt she wore and she pushed up on her heels so that he could cup her bottom.

“Ready for me, woman?” Spike growled when he found that she hadn’t worn panties.

“Yes,” Buffy whispered, reveling in the need she felt in his touch. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he propped her against the side of the Navigator. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her words were drowned out by his mouth descending on hers. She sighed, thankful that they were so attuned to each other. Their kiss held no hesitation or questions, only the raw hunger they had for each other.

“Do you want to talk or something?” Spike said, pulling back. “I didn’t…”

“Don’t care…only want you now,” Buffy cut him off. She didn’t need polite conversation. She needed him and her hands delved between them to the button on his jeans. Spike only smiled for a second before kissing her. It didn’t take her long to free his cock, quivering when she held it in her hands again. It was hers to pleasure and be given pleasure by. She led him to her ready entrance. Her body wet even before she left home. The humming inside of her at seeing her mate again was making her drip in want of him.

“I love you,” Spike whispered, as he thrust into her in one stroke.

“Love you, too,” Buffy muttered. She wrapped her hands around the luggage rack to help take some of her weight off of him. She wanted him to only have to concentrate on moving in and out of her.

He buried his face in her neck as his hips moved at an almost violent pace. The vehicle was rocking under the force but Buffy only urged him for more. To her there was nothing better than the feel of him inside her. It didn’t matter if it was her cunt, her mouth or evn her ass just as long they were connected. His cock piling into her, stroking her, bringing them closer and finally giving her his life force was what kept her alive. Sometimes in the darker games she knew it was the part of her that was Dru that was giving him the pleasure but it was always her body. It was his to do with as he wished but he had never abused her acquiesce.

“You feel so good,” Spike said, as he licked along her neck, “such sweet hotness…have you been touching yourself and thinking of me?”

“Only you,” Buffy answered, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “Want to watch your face when you come.” She squeezed him with every inward thrust, loving the face he made and the trembles of his body. “Come for me, I’ve been so empty without you.”

Her words were the final caress to take him over the edge. His fingers tightened on her bottom as he pulled her closer and buried himself as deep as he could inside her. She felt the tremors as he came, the sticky fluid he released, and she let herself join him. They wrapped their arms around each other, leaning against the truck until they came down.

“Hello,” Spike said, a few minutes later with a chuckle. He brushed the hair away from her face. “Have you had a good day so far?”

“It’s been delightful so far,” Buffy grinned, sliding down his body to stand on the ground. He knelt to smooth her skirt down while she tousled his hair. “I brought a blanket and a cooler with drinks and sandwiches.”

They gathered the items from the back of the truck before making their way down to a grassy space by the lake. The blanket was spread out and they made themselves comfortable. Buffy offered him an icy beer and took a bottle of water for herself. She took a couple of long cool drinks before putting it aside so she could settle next to him. He immediately realigned himself so that they were touching.

“So, how are the kids?” He asked, kissing her forehead softly.

“Good,” Buffy said. “Raven is being way too good so I’m waiting for the explosion to happen soon.” She chuckled as she thought of her teenage daughter. “If I didn’t know it was going to end soon I’d be enjoying the extra nicey helper.” She sighed. “Elijah has already fell off the little man wagon. He was demanding some cookies while Del was cooking dinner the other night. She told him no and he tried to levitate it. Unfortunately, his anger got the better of his control and he almost hit her in the head with the box.”

Spike stiffened next to her while she told him about Eli. There were strict rules in the house about the use of Elijah’s powers.

“What did you do?” He asked without anger in his voice.

“I had Willow bind his powers for a week,” Buffy said, looking up at him. “Don’t say anything to him. I told him he needed to talk to you when you got home. He was just testing his boundaries being alone in a house full of women.”

“Kind of hard for him to deal with, I’m sure,” Spike said, smiling. “How is he handing it?”

“Just fine. I sent him off with Xander and Aidan to go fishing for a couple of days. Let him wallow in all that male stuff.”

“Good, let him burn off some of that extra energy,” Spike said, approvingly. He pushed her t-shirt out of the way so that he could settle his hand on her stomach. His finger tickled her belly button. “And Journey?”

“She’s being your demanding daughter again,” Buffy said, sighing. “She keeps seeing things on television that she wants for her birthday and the list keeps getting longer.”

“Don’t spoil her too much,” Spike said, his hand coasting along her body until he was cupping her hip. “And send me a list of things I can pick up in Los Angeles. I can’t come home empty handed. She’ll never forgive me.” He nuzzled Buffy’s ear. “I’ve got some presents with me for all of you that I got in Mexico. Don’t let me forget to give them to you.”

“How was your trip?” Buffy asked, turning on her side to face Spike. His roaming hands were making her body respond again and she wanted to get the preliminaries out of the way so they could make love again.

Spike rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. “We got the job done.”

“Oh, come on, silly,” Buffy said, trailing a finger down his cheek. “Tell me all about your adventure. Really…I want to hear.”

“It wasn’t that interesting,” Spike said but his grin told her otherwise. She listened while he told her about the run across the rooftops. The drive through the desert with Dylan hanging out the window and the demon protesting his capture in the back of the truck all sounded adventurous to her. A part of her longed for the days when she was part of the action but it was over for her. Spike, though, seemed to come alive beneath her. His face was animated as he talked about the cemetery, the cantinas and the heat that he hated. Suddenly he stopped talking. “I’m sorry. I must be boring you.” His face held a trace of guilt as he looked up at her.

Buffy kissed him. “You’re not boring me. It seems like you had a great time.” She ground down on him. “It’s kind of like having the big bad around again.”

“I’ll big bad you,” Spike whispered as he flipped them.

“Please do,” Buffy said, spreading her legs so that he was cradled against her. This time it was slow. Their touches were slower as they reaffirmed their knowledge of each other’s body. Spike made sure she was feeling loved and satisfied before he slid into her heat. He rolled again letting her take control. Her hands planted on either side of him as she rocked against him.

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” Spike said, stroking her breasts.

“Never leave you,” Buffy vowed. She arched back when his hand slid down her stomach and between her legs. He rubbed her clit, circling and teasing, until she plummeted over the edge. Panting she fell against him, using the last of her strength to bring him to his own completion. Kissing his chest, she let her hand drift over his ribs. “I’ve missed you.”

“You just miss getting laid everyday.”

“That too,” Buffy giggled. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“You mean besides missing being home, you, the kids and living my life?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, sitting up. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Let me up, baby,” Spike said, holding her hand until she was sitting on the blanket. He stood up, reaching for his jeans to look for a cigarette. She watched the familiar profile as he lit it and inhaled.

“You pick that up in Mexico, too?” Buffy said, hating the sarcastic tone of her voice. Despite her earlier vow, she could feel the anger licking at her heart. He was smoking again. He was keeping secrets from her and she didn’t want to be on the outside. When he didn’t say anything she started pulling her clothes back on. The mood was ruined for her. “Don’t even think about smoking when you get home.”

“It’s my house.”

“Damn you Spike,” Buffy said, standing in front of him. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

“How can I tell you when I’m not sure myself?”

“Did you find someone else?”

“It always comes back to that again, doesn’t it?” Spike said, laughing. “Have I cheated again? You were the one that bloody pushed me out of my home. Not me. I didn’t want to go. Maybe you’re the one cheating. You did it first by the way...can I remind you of Richard?”

“That’s childish.”

“So, is not trusting me.”

“I have reason,” Buffy said, softly. She crossed her arms and stared down at his feet. Her big toe ran across his. “You need to cut your nails.”

“That’s rich,” Spike said, tilting her head up. “We go from my straying to my toenails.”

“The other hurts too much,” Buffy said, honestly. “I do trust you. I’m sorry…that was uncalled for.”

“I’m not cheating on you,” Spike said pulling her close. “I know you don’t have reason to believe me.” He laughed softly. “I love you, woman, no matter how much of a bitch you are.”

“Bastard,” Buffy said, pinching his bare bottom. “So, tell me what you do know.”

“It’s Dylan,” Spike answered. “He confuses the hell out of me and I don’t know what to do about it. He got hurt while we were there and I felt like his soddin’ father or something.” He paused and she could feel the vibration of his neck as he swallowed. “Yet there was something else there. Angel said it’s my demon calling out for a childe.”

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t know, Buffy, I don’t know.”

His confusion worried her. She wasn’t sure if she should be threatened by Dylan or be supportive of Spike. Her doubts were her problem. Spike had been nothing but a model husband for years now. Another unjustified display of being a shrew and he would have reason to turn away. There was only thing to do. She would be the understanding wife.

“Invite him home,” Buffy said, stepping back so she could look into her husband’s eyes. “Bring him with you for Joy’s birthday party. It will give him a chance to see you who you really are...besides rogue demon hunter extraordinaire.” She smiled. “If he’s important to you then he should be important to the rest of the family.”

“Are you sure?”

There was hope in his eyes and she quelled the unease she felt about bringing a stranger home. Their family had almost always expanded by unusual means and she did understand the need for a vampire to create a family.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Buffy said, cupping his cheek.

“Thank you,” Spike said, hugging her again. “I love you.”

Buffy held him knowing that if Spike wanted this Dylan to be part of their family then he would be. She wouldn’t lose her husband again…no matter what it took.

T o be continued

Chapter 10 - Could I Be You

You show your pain like it really hurts

And I can’t even start to feel mine

Well, I’m standing in place

With my head first and I shake, I shake

I see your progress stretched out for miles and miles

You’re laughing out loud

At just the thought of being alive

And I was wondering if I could just be you tonight

Matchbox Twenty

The Jeep Wrangler cut its way through the interstate traffic with ease. Dylan loved the challenge of maneuvering his bright red baby around other vehicles. It was a crude form of power but it thrilled him nonetheless. A grin lit up his face as he darted in front of a semi, flicking off the driver who had the nerve to honk at him. He glanced over at his passenger who seemed to be lost somewhere and not even noticing that he could have almost died.

“Stop that,” Dylan commanded, smacking Spike in the middle of his chest. The vampire was drumming his fingers along the dashboard and he was snapping nicotine gum with no concern at how annoying it might be.

“You can’t even hear it,” Spike said, dancing his fingers along the steering wheel.

“Yeah, but I know you’re doing it,” Dylan said, brushing Spike’s hand away. “Why don’t you just have a cigarette?”

“Because Buffy told me not to smoke when I came home,” Spike said, with a smirk.

“Pussy whipped.”

“Yeah, and because I want some, I won’t smoke.”

“Oh, come on,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “Like she didn’t give you ass when you spent that afternoon with her, so why wouldn’t she now?”

A finger was waved in front of him and Dylan sighed. He’d broken cardinal rule number one. Don’t ever disrespect Spike’s women. So, he changed his terminology.

“Isn’t it your home? Don’t you support everyone?”

It had always been that way when he had been growing up. The breadwinner made the rules and you didn’t argue; just obeyed. And that’s why he had left home at thirteen. Compromising your position was better than not having one.

“Financially, yeah,” Spike said. “But Buffy runs the house, takes care of the kids and me. Her load is just as great as mine or even more. So, yeah, I’ll give in when I don’t think it’s a big deal. Besides I don’t want my kids smoking so…”

“Practice what you preach?”

“Yeah.”

It made some sense so Dylan let it drop. The man beside him was an enigma. A combination of a vampire and a family man didn’t really go together. It was an intriguing enough of a prospect to make Dylan accept this invitation. The thought of spending a weekend in the suburbs with kids was enough to give him a serious case of hives, but he wanted to figure out what made Spike tick. Once Dylan knew that then it would be easier to manipulate his partner into giving him what he wanted.

Knowledge was power and the thought made Dylan smile. He turned his concentration back to his driving letting the thrill take over him again. It was a beautiful day with the sun climbing high into the sky. Only a few clouds dotted the blueness above him and the closer they got to Sunndyale, the more the traffic thinned out. Nothing was in his way or going to be. This time the jackpot was his.

Dylan followed Spike’s directions through the small town to the house. His eyes widened behind his sunglasses as he saw the rambling two-story house. It was another clue to the man beside him as he took in both the cemetery and the swing set behind it. He turned his attention to the house again, taking in the wide porch that ran the length of the front of the house. There were wicker chairs placed almost randomly along it and a swing hung from the ceiling on one side.

It was a home.

“Come on,” Spike said, grabbing his bag out of the back. “It won’t bite.”

His bag was tossed to him and Dylan caught it easily. He flung it over his shoulder as he followed Spike toward the house.

“Daddy, Daddy,” a small boy that Dylan recognized as Elijah from pictures, flung open the front door and came tearing toward them. Spike laughed, dropping to his knees to catch the child.

“Hey, Eli,” Spike said, pushing the boy away so he could look at him. “How are you doing? Taking care of things for me?”

“Yeah…well, I’m trying,” Eli said, shuffling his feet. He looked back at the house. “Mummy was mad at me last week but she’s not now.”

“Okay,” Spike said, patting Eli’s shoulder. “We’ll talk later…just you and me.”

The boy smiled. It was an innocent, trusting gesture that showed his belief that his father wouldn’t let him down. Dylan filed the information away as he watched the boy turn and run back to the house. The two men followed a little more slowly. Dylan was expecting a huge crowd at the door to welcome Spike home but the front hall was empty. Spike shrugged, threw his bag at the bottom of the stairs and started to walk down the hall toward where they could hear women’s voices.

“Dad, you’re home.”

This time it was Raven. Dylan slipped his sunglasses off to take a better look at the young woman bounding down the stairs. Her small firm body was encased in a pair of hip hugging black jeans with a red baby tee that showed off her flat stomach. He let his gaze wander upwards to her face. She wasn’t a classic beauty but she was definitely cute with bright blue eyes and a mass of red curly hair that reached to her waist. She laughed lightly as she launched herself off the staircase and into her father’s arms.

“Hello, princess,” Spike said, hugging her tight. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Raven said, her eyes catching Dylan’s for a moment before she returned her attention to Spike. “I haven’t even needed a nail polish consultation.”

They both laughed at their inside joke. It was irritating to be deliberately left out. It only confirmed his earlier assumption that Raven was going to be difficult to win over. It would be necessary though. She seemed to be fairly vibrating with power, not only in her Slayer capacity but also with power within the family. Spike often spoke with an amused lilt about what a firecracker his daughter was.

Plastering a smile on his face he took a step toward the pair. “Hi there, I’m Dylan.”

“Hello.”

A small hand was offered to him and he shook it with a little more of a caress then a shake. He watched as one perfectly plucked brow rose ever so slightly but she didn’t say anything just took her hand back. Thankfully, Spike didn’t notice anything but rather seemed pleased that the two were being friendly.

“Where’s Sean and Journey?” Spike asked, looking around.

“Joy is taking a nap. I know it’s late but she was up at the crack of dawn looking for you and Angel,” Raven said, smiling as she shook her head. “So, we wore her out and put her down. Hopefully, she won’t be cranky later.”

“And Sean?”

“Uh, he won’t be getting in until tonight.”

Spike sighed and did his head roll thing he did when he was irritated. Dylan stepped back to watch the interchange hoping they would talk freely if they forgot he was there.

“And why not?”

“Don’t be mad,” Raven reprimanded as she took her father’s hands in her own. “Bryant had to have some sort of study group this afternoon and they’ll be in town after that. Uh…they’re staying in a hotel this time.”

“Bloody hell…”

“Don’t, okay, the more upset you get, the more Sean is going to think he has to defend Bryant. Just let it run its course.”

Spike nodded apparently taking Raven’s advice. The situation was a mystery to Dylan. Spike’s eldest son wasn’t a subject the two partners had discussed. Dylan only knew what he had discovered when he had Spike investigated which wasn’t much at all.

“The rest of the girl’s are here,” Raven said, kissing Spike’s cheek. “We’ll be down in a bit.”

Dylan watched Raven disappear back upstairs. He was enjoying the sway of her bottom before Spike tugged on Dylan’s sleeve.

“Watch what you’re watching,” Spike cautioned. “Come on...I want to find Buffy.”

It was time to meet Spike’s wife, the love of his life, and the one that seemed to control him. Dylan was curious about the Slayer that had captured the heart of one of history’s most notorious vampires. He had heard talk about her from Jake and the other men that ranged from how wonderful she was to what a cold bitch she could be. Already he didn’t like her just because of the hold she had on Spike but Dylan had decided to play nice for now.

Spike pulled him through a swinging door into a large kitchen. This was the heart of the house. From the large table on the side that would hold the entire family to the drawings and pictures that were stuck to the refrigerator to the messy counter tops, it all screamed family. Dylan watched as Spike headed first to an older woman. She was waiting with arms open for the return of the head of the house.

“It’s good to see you,” Del said, patting Spike on the back. “We’re making lasagna for dinner.” She added as Spike lifted the lid on the pot she had been stirring.

“Smells great,” Spike said, kissing her cheek. “I want you to meet my partner, Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan said, shaking her hand. He smiled because he knew he was being scrutinized for faults. “It smells wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Del said, returning his smile. She waved her hand toward the refrigerator. “There’s drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Figuring it would be frowned upon if he took a beer; he helped himself to a soda instead before sitting at the table. From there he could watch whatever was going on in the room. Dylan glanced over to where Spike was now standing behind the other woman. His arms were wrapped around her waist and she was giggling at whatever Spike had said to her. Insipid was the first thing that came to his mind since she was thirty years old. Wasn’t she past the age of acting like a schoolgirl because a boy paid attention to her?

Dylan did have to admit that Buffy was a beautiful woman. Shining, brunette locks done in a French braid fell to the middle of her back. She had a flawless complexion with a cute nose that was made for nipping. His eyes wandered down to the figure encased in a white t-shirt and short denim overalls. She was a combination of earth mother and stunner that sent a stab of desire through him. He could see what had made Spike look twice at her.

“Good god, pet,” Spike exclaimed, after tasting the mixture Buffy was stirring in a small bowl. “Did you put a whole bottle of vinegar in it?”

She only laughed and handed him a spoon which Spike took as he started to add ingredients to the bowl. It was then that she turned to Dylan. Her face gave away nothing of what she was feeling as she looked him slowly over.

“Hello,” Buffy said, tilting her head.

“Hi.”

They seemed to almost be at a standoff as they stared at one another. Neither was giving until the back door flew open and a blanket covered Angel came bursting in. Cordelia followed him with a big grin and shaking her head at his entrance. The atmosphere instantly changed upon their arrival. It was interesting to watch Buffy’s expression go from almost hostile to one of open friendliness as she greeted their guests.

If there was someone in Spike’s family that Dylan thought he could be close to that person would be Cordelia. From their one meeting, he had been impressed with her straightforwardness but compassionate nature. She reminded him of someone he had known a long time ago. Shaking his head to keep from getting lost in memories, he caught her looking at him from over Buffy’s shoulder. He gave her a tentative smile and was relieved when she returned it.

“We’ve put you two in the usual place,” Buffy said.

“Ahhh, Spike’s study,” Angel said, with a grin. “Did you reinforce the springs on the couch this time?”

“Bastard,” Spike said, laughing. “The furniture people think I’m crazy for how many couches I’ve had to buy. If I wasn’t so fond of your wife, I’d make your ass stay at a motel.”

The four of them laughed at their joke. Something else he wasn’t a part of being rubbed in his face. He looked up to see the old woman staring at him. It gave him the creeps as she studied his face. His eyes carefully shuttered, Dylan leaned back in his chair and lifted one brow in response. It didn’t intimidate her. She laughed and turned back to the stove.

“So, Dylan,” Cordelia said, sitting beside him at the table. “What do you think of Sunnydale and the house?”

“Didn’t really see a lot of Sunnydale,” Dylan answered, turning to look at her. She looked healthier than the last time he had seen her. He smiled. “The house is great. It’s kind of 7^{th Heavenish or something.”}

“Yeah, that it is. Sometimes it’s so freakish normal that it makes me want to scream.”

Dylan chuckled at her comment. He wasn’t going to voice his agreement. Doing that would only insult his hosts. Thankfully, this conversation was interrupted when the kitchen door swung open and a little girl came rushing in. Dylan knew she had to be Journey; Spike’s pride and joy.

Suddenly she came to such an abrupt stop that she almost fell on her bottom. Her eyes got wide as she looked from Spike to Angel.

“Look, Joy,” Buffy said, leaning back against the counter. “Daddy and Uncle Angel are both here.”

“Hey, pumpkin,” Spike called, squatting down to her level. He put his arms out to her. “Come give Daddy a kiss.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Angel said, crouching down next to his grand-childe. “Come give your Angel a hug.”

“Hey, I’m her father.”

“And I’m her favorite uncle,” Angel said. “I’ve got presents for you, Journey.”

“Of course, you do, you ponce. It’s her birthday. We’ve all got presents for her.”

“Oh, my god,” Cordelia exclaimed. “Will you two cut it out?” She leaned closer to Dylan. “First they fought over Buffy. Now, they’re fighting over her daughter. It’s disgusting.”

Now, that tid bit was interesting. Dylan glanced at the two vampires and the woman standing behind them. The report had only said that Angel had dated Buffy at one time not that the two had fought over her. Deciding he would have to find out more, he turned his attention back to the little girl.

Journey was giggling like mad at the two men who were still trying to cajole her into going to them first. Her feet were spread wide as her hands covered her mouth. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t shaking with the mirth that was consuming her. Angel offered her a present right away then Spike offered her one, too. The little girl screamed with laughter, throwing her arms wide, with her head back. Suddenly she took off running. Her destination was between them. She was right. They moved together to catch her. She was cradled between them as they fawned over her.

Twice now, Dylan had been witness to innocent trust by children in this house. He wondered if everyone was really naïve or if they put on a really good front. It was like they had no clue what was happening right under their noses. Spike was their hero, their savior, what were they going to do when he wasn’t there to wipe their noses anymore?

Dylan decided it was going to be fun to watch what happened when it did.

to be continued…

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