SECTION 3 - PARTY FEARS TWO
And what if this party fears two
The alcohol loves you while turning you blue
View it from here from closer to near
Awake me
(The Associates)
Chapter 3.01
Wes looked at his reflection in the mirror, surveying his open-necked, navy, silk shirt and dark blue jeans, still not convinced that he’d made the right choice.
On the one hand the party was in his honour, so he felt obliged to make himself presentable. Also, while his heart was still in the keeping of another, Marie was a very attractive woman and Wes was not without a certain quota of male vanity.
Then, on the other hand there was the fact that if he was going to be set up as the sacrificial lamb, then he really didn’t see why he should makes Lily’s scheming any easier for her. It would also be unwise to forget that Spike seemed to regard both the woman and her daughter as being under his protection. If the vampire so much as suspected he was doing anything to lead Marie on, either intentionally or unintentionally, then Wes had no doubt that the heretofore welcoming Brit would be quick to make his displeasure felt in any number of ways.
Hmm. Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved, and perhaps he should ditch his contacts for the night and go back to his glasses…
* * * * *
Xander looked at the clothes Anya had laid out for him before going to work that morning. She’d made it pretty darn clear that by the time she came home from work, she expected him to be washed up, shaved and smelling pretty, leaving the bathroom free for her. She’d picked out her favourite of his shirts, a forest green one made of soft, brushed cotton. It seldom actually stayed on very long because Anya was so fond of how it felt against her skin. Come to think of it, Xander had more than a few pleasant memories of a post-coital Anya padding round the apartment in nothing but that shirt. He glanced downward to where his best black dress pants did nothing to disguise the effect those thoughts had on him. And now he could definitely think of better things to do than to go party with the horned, the fanged and the wrinkly.
He glanced over toward the bathroom door, listening to the splashes and cheerful singing that were coming from the other side. He sighed and pulled the shirt from its hanger. If he played Anya right, he could probably make her forget all about this party until it was too late. The trouble was he really didn’t want to play her. He wanted to make her happy. How hard could it be? It was just a party, right? A party in honour of an even more Pierce Brosnan-y Wes than he remembered in High School, granted, but just a party. At least Anya wouldn’t be drooling over the damn Brit pack like Cordelia had. And Giles would be there. The G-man wouldn’t spend the evening socialising with the demons. He could hang out with the old guy, dance enough dances with Anya to keep her happy, a few trips to… Wait a minute. What the literal heck got served up on the buffet table at a demon soiree? He so was not up for kitten ribs…
“Ahn, honey, I was thinking…” He pushed his way into the bathroom. “Maybe we should stop off at KFC or somewhere on the way?”
* * * * *
The door to Lily’s apartment was pushed open and a tiny platinum blonde made her way in backwards carrying several dishes. “Desserts are here!” she called out as she made her way toward the kitchen with an easy familiarity.
Marie came to meet her part way, only to pause, stunned by what she saw. “You cut it all. How the heck do you have the guts to go from waist length to that in one go?”
The woman shrugged. “Felt like a change. Patrick did it. You like?”
Marie tried not to screw up her face at the name of her tenant’s latest boyfriend, grabbed a couple of the dishes and led the other woman through to the kitchen. In the brighter light, she could see that the platinum blonde of the classic jaw-length bob, was interspersed with fine streaks of honey gold. It set off her heart-shaped face with her kohl-rimmed hazel eyes and bright red lipstick to perfection and contrasted sharply with the unrelieved black that the woman always wore.
“Okay, Patrick’s a jerk, but he’s a jerk who can cut hair. You look great.”
“I guess you won’t be upset that we broke up, then.”
“That depends. Are you?”
“He kicked Rupert,” the blonde replied as if this answered everything. Surprisingly, to Marie, it did.
“He kicked your cat… Deliberately?” Marie pulled a pitcher of margarita from the fridge and poured a little into each of two glasses. “This is where we hope the guest of honour has some cute friends… or you could take Clem up on his offer?”
“No offence, but Clem’s just like this huge wrinkly teddy bear. I’d feel like a child molester or something. So, I guess that means the guest of honour himself is taken? Who is he anyway?”
“Not as such… though if Lily has her way…” Marie reddened slightly at the woman’s knowing smile. “And a friend of Spike’s or Spike’s fiancée at least. I don’t think Spike’s known him long.”
“And what brings him to sunny Sunnydale?”
“The other usual.”
“Ah. The hero syndrome. Fighting the good fight and all that. So just how well would the new boy in town fill Errol Flynn’s tights?”
“Bee!” Marie’s voice betrayed her shock at the question and she covered by checking on all the various pans that were on the stove top. “It’s a good thing Lily and Rosa are upstairs.”
“I was just asking how dashing, manly and heroic he was.”
“Emphasis on the manly, and as to that, I haven’t been looking that closely and as to heroic, time will tell but he can do dashing. Now behave.”
“Yes, mommy.” The blonde replied. She pointed at one of the two dishes of brownies. “Best keep those ones somewhere where the kiddie can’t reach them.”
Marie rolled her eyes. “Do you have any idea what it would do for my career if I got busted for handing out hash brownies?”
“Guess it would depend whether you gave your boss any or not.” The blonde answered with a grin.
* * * * *
“Buffyyyy!” Dawn called upstairs to her sibling. “Tell Spike I can wear that dress you bought me in LA!”
Spike looked again at the lavender knee high boots and matching mini-dress that barely covered the dressing on her upper thigh. “Niblet, we agreed that maybe you could wear it where we’d be able to keep an eye on you. No one agreed that you could wear it to go on a date.”
“It’s not a date. It’s a party.”
“An’ Junior is actin’ as your escort, therefore it’s a date. So go an’ put on something that covers up more than half your legs… In fact all of your legs. Trousers are good.”
“Bu-u-ffyyyyy!”
Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs, a thick, white, towelling robe disguising her outfit for the night until she was ready to make her proper entrance. She had applied mascara to one eye but not the other and she looked a little impatient at the interruption to her preparations.
“Can’t you two just settle things between you?” she asked.
“Sure we can. Go get changed, pet.”
“Spi-ike! I bought her the dress so she could wear it, not so it could collect moths in her wardrobe.”
“But you didn’t buy it so she could flash her legs at teenage Romeos three years older than her.”
“Yes, Spike. I did. I bought it so she could feel like a pretty, attractive, young girl that teenage guys would notice. If she wants to wear it, it’s fine by me, so just leave your Victorian double standards back in the eighteen hundreds where they belong.”
“But, love, he’ll have his grubby teenage hands all over before you know it,” Spike’s voice rose into a whine.
“Spike. Twenty-first century. Deal with it.” Buffy turned her back and flounced back into their bedroom.
The teenager grinned and made her way into the living room where she stared suspiciously at the puppy curled up on the sofa asleep, having apparently tired itself out trying to keep track of all the comings and goings earlier.
“Where’s Rogue’s collar?”
Spike made a disingenuous attempt to pretend he didn’t know exactly what the girl meant. “She’s wearing her collar, Bit. Got ‘er name on it and everything.”
“I put on my purple dress to go with Rogue’s purple collar. Now, she’s wearing some black thing. Where’s her purple one gone?”
Spike moved through to the kitchen and pulled a packet of blood from the fridge, tipping it into a mug and setting it to microwave. “I’m sure it’ll turn up, pet. But here’s a thought, I’m sure you must have a pair of black trousers and maybe a long sleeved blouse, then you’d match right in again.”
Dawn pursed her lips and folded her arms over, glaring at the vampire as he waited for his meal to heat. “You are so lucky my sister likes you, fang face.” Her glance swept disdainfully over the vampire’s black jeans, black New Rocks and still unbuttoned, black shirt. “And for your information, normal, real people don’t go around trying to look like they’ve just come from a funeral.”
Spike looked up as Brandon made his way in through the back door, dressed from head to toe in ebony, even down to the nail varnish. “S’that right, pet. Must just be freaks like me an’ Mikey here, then.” The vampire smirked as he pulled his mug from the microwave and left it to Dawn to explain to her bemused boyfriend.
* * * * *
Giles tried unsuccessfully to remember the last time he’d been to a party where he hadn’t felt as if he were playing the part of chaperone for Buffy and her friends. It was even longer, probably back in his Ripper days, since he’d actually socialised with anyone of the demon variety. It was all rather exciting and vaguely intimidating at the same time. He just hoped he wasn’t going to be the oldest person there… well other than Spike who didn’t really count since on occasion he seemed to have a mental age of about twelve. He glanced again at his watch. He had another three quarters of an hour before Anya and Xander were due to swing past so they could walk over to Lily’s together. He picked up the handwritten journal that sat on top of his bedside table and continued reading from where he had left off at The Magic Box that afternoon.
* * * * *
Tara looked at the large, sad eyes of the woman in the mirror as she put on her make-up and wondered if Spike was right. Was there really someone else out there for whom she could care as much as she had cared for Willow? Even as she thought it, she berated herself inwardly for being so harsh as to put her feelings for Willow in the past tense, but she knew that in the past was where they belonged. It wasn’t that her feelings had ceased to exist, that she suddenly didn’t care. It was simply that the shy, sweet girl she had loved had lost herself in the power that had lain within her. Willow’s power came so close to being absolute that if the old saying had any truth in it at all, Willow had long ago set herself on the road to perdition. Finally, Tara allowed herself to relinquish responsibility for trying to pull her back. She had done all she could in their time together. She had hoped that perhaps Willow had learned from their time apart. Then…
There came a time when you had to let go.
She forced a smile onto her face, knowing that with her friends around her once more, chances were it would soon be replaced by a genuine one. Pulling open the door of what was now her room she made her way toward the sounds of homely bickering coming from the kitchen.
* * * * *
“Spike. This isn’t funny any more. You cannot follow the two of us round like some great big freak all night.”
The vampire looked at Dawn from his seat in the centre of the sofa and raised an eyebrow. “You want to make a bet, Niblet?”
“Fine. If I go put on some pants, then will you stop following us?”
“You better already be wearing some bloody pants, missy, but if by that you mean jeans or something similar, I’m sure we could come to some arrangement.”
Dawn shot up the stairs, passing Tara on her way, her voice echoing all the way down to the living room. “Buffy, your boyfriend is a freak. You know that, right?”
Tara smiled at the vampire as she walked into the room. “What have you done now?”
“Just gave her a demonstration of how closely I’d have to keep an eye on her if she wore that dress tonight. And speaking of dresses…” Spike let his gaze travel up and down the Wiccan’s length in an appreciative but brotherly way. “You’re lookin’ pretty good yourself, in a Stevie Nicks kind of way, except that probably means nothin’ to a youngster like you.”
Tara smiled. “I know my Fleetwood Mac from my Britney Spears,” she teased. “My gran had a copy of Rumours.”
“Save a dance for an old man, anyway?”
“I thought your dance card would be all booked up.”
“I’m sure she’ll let me off with one, or should she be the one dancing with you? What’s the proper etiquette?”
“We all go out. We all enjoy ourselves and hang the etiquette.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Buffy picked this moment to make her entrance. “Am I intruding?” She raised an eyebrow, smiling at the pair as she swayed into the room in her high heels.
“Well, I was goin’ to try to convince Glinda here to give the other side of the tracks a try and see if maybe she’d run off with me, but then you turn up, lookin’ gorgeous as ever… an' well, who could expect anybody to look twice at some old codger with dangly bits when you’re about?”
His eyes showed his approval of the short, fitted dress in shimmering pale green, even more than his words, and with her hair piled casually atop her head his mark was bared for all to see. Spike looked at her footwear. “My guess is you’re not planning on walking anywhere tonight?”
Buffy turned to Tara. “Would you believe it? Not only does he have a certain rough charm, but he’s psychic as well.”
Spike very temporarily fixed his attention on Brandon. “You got your car licence as well as your bike one?”
“Yes, sir-Spike.”
“Well, since you’re under age, I guess that makes you our designated driver for the night.” Spike tossed him his car keys. “An’ since you don’t even want to think about what might happen to you if there was a scratch on my baby tomorrow, or I decided you were a bad influence on the Niblet you won’t even consider drinking anything other than soda.”
“Can you fit four in the back of your car?” Tara asked.
“Legally, no. But do you really think there are any cops on night time traffic patrol in Sunnydale? So the real answer is... you can if two of them are built like Buffy an’ the Niblet. Guess the hero of the hour gets to ride shotgun.” Dawn came clattering downstairs. Spike gave the inch of bare flesh between her top and her jeans a pointed glance, but decided to pick his battles. He grabbed his coat and began to usher the others out. “Niblet, get the dog on that extendable lead an’ put her in the front of the car. Reckon she’ll have to sit between the Watcher’s feet. Buffy, you lock up, love. I’ll go see what’s keeping the guest of honour.”
* * * * *
Wes hesitated as the doorbell rang and then grabbed the Aran sweater that lay on the bed, pulling it over his head as he made his way downstairs. Spike gave an amused half smile as he pulled open the front door and he just knew that the vampire had picked up straight away on his ambivalence about the evening.
“Trying to hide the sex appeal under a fuzzy jumper, are we?” the vampire asked as Wes locked up.
“I really don’t know what you find so amusing.”
“How about the sight of a man who’s old enough to know better trying to run for his life?”
“This is all your fault, you know?”
“Yeah,” the vamp drawled with a smirk. “I worked that bit out all on my own. Hate to say it, but the idea of bite-size with a proper dad again kind of gives me the warm fuzzies.”
“For God’s sake, don’t you start!” the watcher told him.
“But it’s just so much fun watching you squirm,” the vamp responded and then effectively ended the conversation by joining the women in the back seat of the car.
* * * * *
Marie helped her friend transfer all the hot food into casserole dishes and placed them atop stands designed so that small night-light candles would keep the food warm while it was on display. Everything was put out ready on tables in the living room which was lit by several strategically placed table lamps. The exception was Bee’s “special” brownies, which had been stashed away in one of the kitchen cupboards that was too high for Rosa to reach.
A music system had been set up in the yard, and was currently blasting out one of several compilation CDs that Bee had provided. The doorways from both Lily’s kitchen and the main stairwell had been wedged open, probably contravening several fire regulations but allowing access to the high-walled yard for all once they were actually through the main door into the apartment block.
A large jam-making pan of Lily’s had been filled with ice and then topped off with a case of beer. A cooler held cans of soda, and Marie’s margarita mix had been bulked out with crushed ice until it now filled two large pitchers next to which there were a stack of plastic glasses, half of which had been rimmed with sea salt.
Bee looked round. “Okay. Everything’s under control. This place looks like the eat all you can buffet at Chiquito’s, only better. Lori’ll be here soon, and you’ve got ten minutes before the first guests are due to arrive. Go find that little angel of yours and get your party clothes on, girl. I’ll cover for you if anyone shows, and if you see the cat point him in this direction.”
“Your cat worked out where you were a while ago.” Marie nodded to where a Siamese cat lay sphinx-like on top of the wall surrounding the yard, watching them as if they were only of mild interest to him.
The blonde frowned. “I’m sure he only goes up there because I can’t reach.”
As they were talking, the intercom for the door buzzed. “Go and get changed. I’ll see who that is, and unless it’s something incredibly evil like The Jehovah’s Witnesses, I’ll let them in and feed them alcohol.”
“Just so long as you card them first. Rosa isn’t the only underage guest that’s coming.”
Marie dashed for the stairs to her own apartment, and Bee made her way to the front door. The party was about to officially begin…
Chapter 3.02
Spike pressed the keypad sequence that would open up the lock on the apartment block’s main door and then held the door open for the others to precede him. A firm but gentle hand at Wes’s back prevented him from hesitating as he reached the threshold. “Just give in and enjoy the ride,” he whispered at the watcher’s ear making the other man startle slightly.
Spike scanned the room for familiar faces and had almost given up when he recognised the small woman with the bob. Even then, with her newly cropped hair, it was the black, vintage fifties dress with its fitted bodice and flared skirt and the impossibly high stilettos that gave her away.
“Hoi, titch. Where are the people in charge of this here shindig, then?”
Bee turned at the voice, a smile on her face. “Less of the titch, short ass. And Marie went upstairs to get changed twenty minutes ago, but apparently Rosa waited till the first guests arrived to spill juice all down herself. Lily’s out in the yard.”
“There’s something different, but I can’t quite place it,” the vampire teased as he pulled her into a hug before looking down.
“Nope, got it. You’re wearing a wonder bra. Very Jessica Rabbit, pet.”
Bee gave him a gentle slap on the arm. “You don’t have to broadcast it, bitch. And engaged men aren’t meant to go looking at other women’s cleavages.”
“Hey, if it’s on display men are goin’ to look. There’s something else, though. Got it. I know you said the paintings weren’t shiftin’, luv, but selling your hair went out back in my day.” He gave her a big grin. “You look gorgeous, pet. Fancy meetin’ the future missus?”
“That depends. Is she just incredibly brave and forbearing or is she certifiable?”
“Come judge for yourself, and you can meet the rest of her crew.”
“Wow! Her crew? That almost sounds like humility coming from a vampire. If it meant anything I’d be checking your temperature. So, where do you fit in with this crew?”
“Wherever she wants me,” Spike admitted.
“Okay, this is a woman I have to meet.”
Spike held out his arm in an old-fashioned courtly gesture, lending his support as Bee teetered across the room to where the group were still hovering.
“Buffy, meet the cat lady, otherwise known as Bee to her friends. Bee, this is my fiancée Buffy, her sister Dawn, her boyfriend Brandon, Tara who’s one of the family in all but blood and their new neighbour Wes, the guest of honour at this here event.”
Buffy was caught off-guard by the name and found herself becoming defensive for no good reason. “B as in the letter B?”
“Bee as in bumble, flitting from one thing to the next and always busy. Actually, Marie says it’s short for Beelzebub, but my parents named me Bianca.”
“Sorry, it’s just someone used to call me B… bad memories.”
“Well, Lily and the drinks are all out in the yard. Food’s in here…” Her gaze travelled to Wes as she continued. “And Marie and Rosa will be down in a few minutes.” She took Wes’s hand and shook it politely. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you round here.”
As she returned to the group she had been chatting with before Spike’s arrival, Dawn berated her sister. “Way to go, Buffy, so every time Spike introduces one of his friends, are you going to act like a total bitch, or is it just if they’re prettier than you?”
“It’s… I didn’t mean… I just.”
Spike slid his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders.
“Just the shock of meeting an adult who’s actually shorter than you. I know.” Buffy’s expression changed to one of exasperation as he teased her. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to chatting later an’ it’ll be fine. Bee’s not the type to hold grudges. Just so long as you don’t say anything nasty about her cat, you’ll be okay. In fact, tell her that her cat’s gorgeous an’ she’ll be your friend for life. Come on, let’s go pass over the booze to Lily an’ get the mutt away from anywhere with carpets and then we can start to enjoy ourselves an’ Wes can network.”
“I don’t get to enjoy myself?” Wes asked.
“Well, I’m guessin’ that Marie’s boss is here so that you can meet him. Whether you can make it fun is up to you.”
* * * * *
Before the group had even all made it out into the yard, Lily came bustling toward them. For once, she almost ignored Spike, uttering no more than a brief greeting and an indication of where the drinks and the food were and issuing instructions for them to help themselves. Her attention was almost fully focused on Tara. She drew the girl into a motherly hug and then towed her off to a bench in the corner of the yard, shooing away the young couple who had been sitting there as if they were unwelcome pigeons, so that she could chat to Tara in privacy.
Looking round the yard, Dawn picked a spot where Rogue could have some freedom to move on her lead, but not enough to let her near any of the drinks or anywhere else where she could cause too much mayhem. Then, she tied off her lead to one of the many hooks along the high wall that supported hanging baskets after testing it to make sure it was strong enough to hold the large puppy in check. Kneeling to fuss over the dog, she turned to Brandon. “Mine’s anything they have in diet, and food would be good too.” She gave him an appealing smile and looked across at Rogue, as if to say she couldn’t leave the pooch.
On the wall above them, Rupert the Siamese commando crawled until he was looking down on this strange new beast in his territory and gave a warning hiss that went totally unheard amidst the music that was playing, before settling in to keep a close eye on the four-legged competition.
* * * * *
“So, did I come across as a total bitch?” Buffy asked apologetically, her head tilted down slightly so that Spike got the full benefit of the through the lashes stare.
The vampire’s fingers drifted across her jaw in a soft caress that somehow seemed warm rather than cool. “Just a tad on the defensive side.”
“I’m sorry. She’s your friend. I should go and apologise.”
Spike dropped the bottles that they had picked up at a liquor store en route into the cooler alongside the beers and poured two glasses of margarita, passing one to Buffy.
“Relax, Buffy. It’s a party. You can chat when you meet up again. An’ I’ve met the bird about twice when she’s been visitin’ Marie an’ I’ve popped in. I’d rate that at more of an acquaintance. You’ve pretty much already met everyone I’d call friend. Speakin’ of which, I’d have thought Clem would have shown ‘is ugly mug by now.”
“I’m guessing where there’s a buffet he’ll show up sooner rather than later.” Buffy gave him a half-teasing smile. She slipped her free hand around his waist. “Now, I need you to escort me to somewhere where my stilettos aren’t going to disappear into the lawn.”
“As you wish, love.”
* * * * *
“I’ll get it!” Rosa dashed downstairs ahead of her mother as the intercom sounded.
“Check who it is first, baby. Remember.”
“Uh-huh.”
Marie followed more slowly, half expecting Lily to tell her to go get more dressed up when she did get downstairs. The old demon was in for a fight though. Marie reckoned Wes had seen her in her office clothes, with all the formality that entailed.
She wasn’t going to pretend to be something she wasn’t. When she had the choice she was a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. So… the jeans might sit low on her hips and hug her figure to the knee like a second skin before flaring out to go over her Cuban heeled boots and the T-shirt might be one that she’d bought because Rosa had liked it and then she’d never worn it because it showed a couple of inches of trim golden stomach, reminding her of the skimpy tops she’d worn when she waitressed her way through college, but that was as much as she was prepared to concede.
“Mommy, it’s an old man. He talks like Unker Will and the new man that’s Auntie Buffy’s friend.”
“Hold on, baby. I’ll be there in a second.” Marie made her way down to the front door, just in time to hear Anya’s impatient voice.
“Rosa, honey, it’s Anyanka. The strange man is with us. It’s okay. You can let us in.”
“Go on, honey. You can open it.”
“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” Marie told her guests as she joined her daughter. “It’s just we spend too much time telling her not to open the door for strangers to start making exceptions. I’m Marie and this is my daughter Rosa.”
“Giles, Rupert Giles, but everyone just calls me Giles.”
“Or G-man,” Xander added. “That’s a favourite of mine. Xander Harris, I think we saw you at Buffy’s engagement party, but we didn’t actually get to speak.”
“That was because you spent half the night with your foot in your mouth, sweetie, and the other half falling on your butt when you tried to catch up and apologise,” his wife pointed out.
“Rosa, why don’t you take everyone’s coats and put them on the bed in your grandma’s room, while I show them through to the yard?” Marie prompted, leading the group towards the door off the stairwell. “I’m guessing this is the new husband?” she asked Anya.
The former demon nodded. “Yes, but I’m afraid he’s not very well trained, yet, so I’ll just apologise to everyone in advance as we go ‘round before he insults them.”
“And you must be the friend of Wes and Buffy who’s just
arrived from
“Yes, that’s right,” Giles told her.
“Well, I can see Dawn and her boyfriend, and it looks like Lily has got hold of… I think it’s Tara. The others must be inside. Anyway, drinks and loud music out here, but if you go through that door there, it’ll take you into the kitchen and the other side of the kitchen is the living room with the food and without the loud music.”
Rosa came running out the kitchen door as Marie explained the layout to her guests. “Mommy, Uncle Clem’s back with the extra ice but he doesn’t know where to put it.”
“Okay, honey, I’ll come sort it out. Excuse me. Just help yourself.”
“Gi-iles!” The watcher looked up to see Dawn beckoning him. “Come meet my boyfriend and my new dog.”
‘Oh, no-o-o-o,’ he thought sarcastically. ‘I’m not going to go to a party and chaperone Buffy’s friends. This time I get to hang out with her younger sister and her boyfriend, instead.’
* * * * *
“Well, I thought by six it would be safe to head back and get first dibs on the chilli,” Clem explained, as he shifted a large sack of ice cubes from shoulder to shoulder to prevent freezer burn. “But I guess I was wrong.”
“They were waitin’ for you?” Spike asked, before taking the sack from the demon and resting it on his own shoulder.
“Mom had taped a list of chores to the door of my apartment… with duct tape, just in case I thought about saying it fell off.”
Spike couldn’t help but smirk and Buffy had to cover her mouth with her hand.
“This is the last one, though, so now I guess I get to get some food.” Clem looked longingly at the buffet table which was already surrounded by people, human and demon alike.
“Go help yourself while there’s still some left. I’ll take this through to the kitchen or wherever.”
“Kitchen. Chest freezer. Goood vamp.” Marie gave him a peck on the cheek, as she arrived to point him in the right direction.
As he made his way to deposit the bag of ice it wasn’t hard for either of the women to hear him muttering, “How often do I have to tell these bints that I’m bad?”
* * * * *
Xander looked over at the buffet table. There seemed to be humans eating whatever it was that was available. That didn’t mean that he wanted to eat it, though. I mean, look at the slime dripping off that guy, oops gal. So it looked like she’d been using the tongs and spoons and stuff but who knew what else from whatever else could have dripped its way onto the plates? His stomach vetoed his objections by grumbling loudly. It turned out that Anya hadn’t thought much of his KFC suggestion. Maybe, if he checked the kitchen cupboards, he could bogart a packet of Graham crackers or some unopened chips or something before they were put out on the table.
* * * * *
Rogue bounced up and down, her paws scrabbling against the wall’s brickwork as she tried to reach the source of that interesting scent. Rupert watched from his perch atop the wall, content in his superiority. If the canine hadn’t worked out by the fifth try that she couldn’t reach and that she was irritating her humans, then she was never going to.
“Rogue, will you behave? You can’t reach no matter how hard you try or how loud you bark.” Dawn admonished. "And good dogs don't chase kitties."
Giles sighed. “I really don’t think trying to sit down and explain things to an over-excited cur is going to work, somehow,” he pointed out to the teenager. “Maybe you should smack it on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper or something.”
“Wow, Giles, look what I have in my pocket. Gee, no, I thought it was a newspaper but turns out it’s a dime.”
“There’s no need to be facetious. I was merely trying to help.”
Spike slid out the kitchen door unnoticed as he watched Bee making her way over. A huge smirk settled on his face as he waited for the inevitable.
“Rupie-bear?”
“What?” Giles turned to stare at the woman as if she were demented. “Do I know you?”
Bee continued to make her way toward the group, somewhat hampered by trying to walk on her tip-toes so that her heels didn’t sink into the grass. “Rupert baby, come to mommy.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m not in the habit of answering to Rupie-bear, or calling anyone half my age mommy, even if it weren’t such a blatant Americanism!” Giles blustered by now quite upset at the offence to his dignity.
“And why should you?” she asked, catching the cat as he leapt into her arms and draped himself so that he could watch over her shoulder, whilst getting the maximum fuss made over him. “You need to calm down a little.” She turned to the former watcher. “I recommend one of the brownies in the top kitchen cupboard… Come on Rupie, baby, We’ll take you away from the nasty doggy. Did it frighten you?”
As she walked away Giles could have sworn that the beast with the sky-blue eyes was smirking at him just as much as the vampire who had materialised from nowhere, a wreath of smoke around his head.
“Glad you could make it, Rupie-bear.”
Anya came over from where she had been discussing the possibility of a volume discount on bile with a regurgitating demon. “I guess maybe someone should have mentioned what Bee’s cat’s called. Apparently she read some newspaper article on Rupert Murdoch just after she bought him.”
“So not only do I share my name with a cat, but with a cat named after an obese, uncouth Australian. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That pretty much sums it up from where I’m standing.” Spike smirked again.
Giles put down the can of beer he’d been drinking from. “I don’t suppose there are any spirits round here?”
Spike leant against the wall to finish his cigarette before he returned to the main room, letting the wall take the strain after what seemed like an incredibly long day.
* * * * *
“He’s never going to accept that he’s a white-hat now, is he?” Buffy smiled at Marie.
“All it took was the right woman,” Marie offered.
“Women,” Buffy corrected. “Maybe I’m the one he’s marrying but there are a lot more who help him be who he is. He does it for all of us. I mean who could let down a little cutie like this one? Do I get a hug?” she asked as she swept Rosa into her arms, taking care not to overdo the slayer strength.
“Mommy, the cat lady had to get Rupert down off the wall ‘cause Auntie Dawnie’s puppy was barking at him and the old man thought she was calling him Rupie bear and he got all proper.”
Buffy flinched on Giles' behalf, hearing him described as the old man, but then she realised that if she hadn’t watched the grey creep into his hairline, and the pounds gradually accumulate around his waist that she might think that way about him herself.
Moving back to
Chapter 3.03
Xander was just about to go for the Doritos family size bag when he noticed the stoneware dish with its clear wrapping. Peeling back the plastic, he inhaled the chocolatey scent. Breaking off a piece from one of the finger-sized blocks, he raised it tentatively to his mouth. His eyes widened at the moist rich taste with a faint undercurrent of spiciness. He quickly stuffed the rest of the brownie into his mouth before looking round guiltily in case he was discovered.
It wasn’t as if he was really having more than his share of the food, just that it was all in the form of brownies. Taking the dish with him, he headed toward the yard, where he found a dark corner and quickly tucked away enough of the chocolate goodies to still the rumbling in his stomach before spotting an empty plate. He decided on the grounds of being less conspicuous to transfer the remaining chocolate fingers.
Well, it seemed like a good idea until he dropped one. Flicking it guiltily across the grass in Rogue’s direction, he left the stoneware dish lying on the ground. When he straightened up he had a normal plate, with half a dozen brownies on it. Okay, so it still looked slightly gluttonish, but if he didn’t have anything else, it was understandable for a growing boy. Guiltily clearing his throat, he made his way back to where he could see Anya chatting away to what looked like a Fyarl demon.
* * * * *
“Hey, Giles.”
A genuine smile settled on the Englishman’s face at the gentle tones and he turned to enfold Tara in his arms.
“Hello.” His gaze was full of concern as he searched her face. “How are you holding up?”
Tara’s gaze flicked to the side, where Lily stood, before she answered. “A lot better than when we split up before. Everybody’s been really supportive.
Giles, Lily asked if I would introduce you. She said she wanted to meet William’s roomie.”
“William’s roo- Ah, Spike. You’ll forgive me if it seems unusual to hear him referred to by anything other than his sobriquet.”
Lily shrugged. “Marie and Clem, they call him Spike. To me, he William, Rosa, he Uncle Will. Is all same. You Watcher like Wesley, no?”
“More of a former Watcher, actually. The Council seemed to regard my departure from Sunnydale as being synonymous with my resignation. Understandable, really, I suppose. But I’m surprised you know so much about Watchers.”
“No so surprising,” Lily told him. “Is good to know who wants dead demon… Even if sometimes reasonable men get tied up with bad men.”
“And you’re sure that Wesley and I are ‘reasonable’ men?”
Tara’s smile gave her face a gentle glow. “Maybe I should have explained when I made the introductions. Lily is empathic. If you were harbouring any hostile feelings toward her guests, she would know about it.”
“Empathic?” Giles’ face brightened considerably. “That’s fascinating. I’m sorry, but I didn’t realise. I’m afraid I didn’t recognise your species. Most remiss of me, I know.”
Lily chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Lily like… How William say? Mutt?” She nodded toward Rogue who was licking at something no one wanted to investigate too closely. “She many species all in one. Clem he one species more and Rosa she one more again.”
“Rosa? I thought she was human?”
“Only on mother’s side, so we no hold it next to her.” The old demon’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “Come, old legs need chair and old ears no like this boom-boom music.”
Tara smiled. “I’m heading for the drinks table. Can I bring you anything?”
Giles lifted the tumbler of straight tequila he had poured from one of the bottles Spike had brought, showing that he was amply catered for. Lily smiled wickedly. “Marie, she make a mean margarita.”
She hooked her arm through Giles’ and bustled him toward the living room. “Is long time since this old demon have handsome young man on arm.”
“And it’s a long time since anyone has called me a young man.”
“Pff. You no look older than forty. In home country, you barely aged for vote. Lily, she drink wine older than you.” Giles blushed under the praise, but smiled just the same. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad evening, after all.
* * * * *
“I don’t think I made a very good impression on your friend the cat lady, earlier,” Buffy admitted as she balanced Rosa on her hip to watch Bee enter, still carrying Rupert.
Marie noticed Bee head for where Wes was lurking in a corner with a plate of food. “Well, if you want a second attempt, I’m overdue to introduce Wes to my boss. He’s only meant to be popping in for an hour or so to meet Wes before he takes his wife out to dinner, and his hour must be nearly up. So, if you can keep an eye on this little terror, while I play the hostess, I’ll re-introduce you to Bee.”
Buffy was a little intimidated by what she could hear of Wes’s conversation with the even shorter but distinctly bustier blonde as they approached.
“I thought that was in Dralius VIII, not VI but then I haven’t read them in years,” the blonde chatted away as if they were discussing what volume of Harry Potter they crashed Ron’s dad’s car instead of dusty tomes that Buffy seemed to recall even Giles had admitted he found difficult to get through.
“It’s quite amazing to find someone outside the Council who’s read them at all, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a copy in the original Latin.”
“Pops wouldn’t buy anything that wasn’t in the original language, if he could help it. He used to say that you never knew what some idiot could have translated wrongly.”
“I quite agree.”
Buffy whispered to Marie. “She doesn’t look the bookish type.”
Marie smiled. “Bee’s a lot more than she seems at first glance. Her career of choice is as an artist. She’s had two or three shows at your mom’s old gallery, as a matter of fact, but when things are quiet on the art front she falls back on what her father taught her and gets work as a translator. She minored in ancient languages but she can speak a bit of at least a dozen demon languages and she’s fluent in another six. So long as she doesn’t lose what she’s meant to be translating, she does fine. She spent a whole day, one time, trying to work out where she’d left some ancient scroll and then found it in the freezer next to the Ben and Jerry’s. So yep, very bright, but incredibly ditsy and she dotes on that cat to the point that any sane man runs a mile within the first two weeks.”
“Seriously?”
“Promise. She only looks perfect. Word of warning. Lesley Anne Ivory is the devil and anyone trying to paint or otherwise reproduce any artwork, other than photographs, of any feline is doomed by their human nature to produce a flawed product which insults said felines.”
Buffy looked at Marie in amazement and then thought of the hideous piece of so-called art that Willow had put up on the once tasteful walls of her mother’s bedroom. Maybe she had a point, but just the same it did sound a bit extreme. “Again, I say, seriously?”
Marie nodded and guided Buffy across to meet the erstwhile artist again. “Bee, I hate to do it, but I need to borrow Wes and take him to meet Walter before he leaves. Buffy says you’ve already met. Maybe you can find something to chat about for a while.”
“That’s okay. I was just keeping him warm for you, and possibly talking my way into being able to make the rent on time next month, without the letter to pop.”
“Hi…” Buffy’s gaze slipped to her tan high heels. “I kinda wanted to apologise if I came across as some sort of… rhymes with witch…” she glanced at Rosa. “I’m not normally like that, at least not with strangers. It just kinda caught me off-guard when you said your name was Bee, but that’s kind of a long story and not for small ears, so maybe you’ll let me off if I save it for another time.”
“Mommy says little jugs have big ears,” Rosa pointed out, wiggling hers in a way Buffy found adorable.
“And your mommy’s right, but that’s not what Buffy meant,” Bee pointed out with a smile. “How about we start from fresh? I’m Bee.”
“And I’m Buffy, nice to meet you. Rosa said the cutie on your shoulder’s called Rupert…”
* * * * *
“Hon, can we go sit on that bench over there? I’m feelin’ kinda tired.”
“Sweetie, I was in the middle of talking to Kalish and his wife.” She indicated a large demon whose skin reminded Xander of a grass snake, and his wife who had hidden behind her husband for almost the entire duration of the discussion. “He was telling me how he plays the futures market.”
“D’you mind?” he asked the couple. “Say, why don’t you two have the bench? I’ll take the grass. I bet I can still sit cross-legged. I used to be able to do the lotus-position but I’m not so sure on that one any more.”
Anya glanced suspiciously from her suddenly affable husband to the plate he had left sitting on a nearby table. While her companions were watching Xander she pressed her finger down on one of the crumbs and transferred it to her mouth, confirming her suspicions.
“Kalish, I’m really sorry, but I just realised we haven’t said ‘hi’ to the guest of honour, yet. We really must go find him.”
She looped an arm through Xander’s and led him into the kitchen. “Xander, how many of those brownies did you eat?”
“Just a few… honest.”
“Xander, even when I was human the first time, I knew if a man put honest at the end of a sentence he was lying. I know how long a batch of muffins last in our apartment, or a box of doughnuts. How many did you eat?”
“I didn’t have all of them. It’s just they were sort of more-ish, and that Fyarl guy he had one when I brought them out and Dawn’s dog had one?”
“You gave one to the dog?”
“Well, more sort of dropped it, but it’s just a brownie. Maybe not best nutritional content, but it’s not as if it’s going to hurt.”
“It might hurt you, if that dog gets sick in Spike’s car. You do realise that those brownies had marijuana in?”
“Wh- If they had dope in I’d be stoned.”
“Well, gee, I guess it’s normal for you to want to go sleepy-bye at half past eight and for you to treat demons like real people.”
Xander held his hand up in front of his face and marvelled at how far away his fingers seemed. “Hey, I think maybe I’m just a teeny bit stoned.”
“So I ask again, how many brownies did you have?”
“All of them… Well, except the one that demon had and the one the dog got.” Anya rolled her eyes and dragged him into the main room behind her.
“Clem, can you baby-sit?” she asked, wrapping Xander’s arm around the demon’s shoulders. She spotted a dish with some familiar looking crumbs on the buffet table and double-checked, but the crumbs that were all that was left in that dish tasted of the finest cocoa and nothing more.
“Say, Clem,” Xander asked. “Did I ever tell you about the visions I saw that day me and Anya were meant to get married? Anya had a daughter and she had ears just like Rosa. D’you like Anya, Clem? ‘Cause it’d be real good to know that if something happened to me there’d be someone around to look after her and you seem like a pretty cool sort of guy, I mean demon, but that’s not exactly your fault exactly. It’s not like you chose to be a demon, and you seem like a decent guy, cheating at poker, not withstanding. So what about it? If I buy it in the next apocalypse, will you see Anya has everything she needs? I mean. I got insurance. I got boatloads of insurance so it’s not like the cash thing would be a problem but she needs a good guy to be there for her. What d’you say, dude?”
* * * * *
“Marie, can we talk for a second?” Anya pulled the girl away from the group of people including Wes, her boss and his wife.
“Marie, were you serving dope brownies?” Anya whispered as soon as they were out of range of the DA’s hearing.
“No, well, I mean Bee brought some, but we hid them in one of the kitchen cupboards where the kids couldn’t get them. Bee might have told a few people where to find them, but it’s not like they were out where people could just eat them without knowing what they were.”
“Not unless they were going through your cupboards instead of going to the buffet table like any civilised guest. Yet again, I have to apologise for Xander. I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea how much might have been in them.”
Marie shrugged. “You’d really have to ask Bee. Is he going to be alright?”
“Not when I finish with him,” Anya replied.
* * * * *
“Bee, say someone ate all the brownies that were in the kitchen cupboard, what’s the worst that could happen?” Anya asked, careful not to word the question so that Rosa would understand.
“This isn’t a rhetorical question, is it?” The platinum blonde sighed and set Rupert down on the floor.
“Assuming they didn’t have any sort of allergic reaction, they’d probably just sleep for a day or so straight and then wake up with the mother of all hangovers, but especially if they’ve been mixing it with booze it’s probably best to get them to throw up as much as possible and then get them home to sleep it off, but someone’s going to have to keep a watch on them to make sure they don’t barf in their sleep or anything and the allergic reaction, always a possibility. If they have any sort of problems, you’ll have to take them to a hospital.”
“And if they gave one to a dog, say?”
Buffy’s ears pricked up.
“One the size of the one in the back yard by any chance?” Bee asked.
“That would be the one.”
“You’d probably end up with a very mellow pooch. There shouldn’t be enough in one to have much effect on something that size, again barring allergic reactions.”
Buffy looked at the little girl in her arms. “Rosa, honey, why don’t you go look for your Uncle Will, he must be in the yard, and tell him I said he should look after you for a little bit. I think I need to talk to Bee and Anya about grown up things.” As soon as the little girl scooted off through the kitchen, Buffy turned to Anya. “What exactly has Xander been feeding to our dog?”
“Marijuana.”
“He got our dog stoned! I’m going to kill him!” Buffy hissed so that her voice wouldn’t carry beyond their circle, forgetting, of course, the sharp hearing of the various demons in the crowd.
“Right now, I doubt he’d notice. Do you think Spike would give him a lift home to sleep it off?”
“Once he finds out about Rogue, I sorta doubt it, but you’re in luck seeing as how he gave his car keys to Brandon for the night. If we’re lucky you might be able to get him in the car before Spike knows anything’s going on. Bee, d’you think you could go fetch Brandon from the back yard? Teen, all in black, spiked hair, black nail varnish, green eyes.”
“I remember. Little sis’s boyfriend, right?”
It took about twenty minutes for Anya and Buffy to get Xander into the car and take him home. Buffy left Anya preparing a solution of lukewarm water and salt, once they had managed with the help of slayer strength to get him into bed. Buffy couldn’t quite manage to hold Xander and the clutch purse where she’d tucked away the orbs at the same time.
“I’ll call later, okay, and see if you need anything,” Buffy offered.
“I’ll be fine, but thanks. You best get that car back before Spike realises it’s missing and check on the pooch.”
* * * * *
Rupert eyed Rogue disdainfully from just outside the range of her tether. The big mutt was decidedly less excitable than earlier and her tail swished softly as the cat moved closer. After several minutes, the cat finally deigned to come close enough for canine and feline noses to almost meet. The dog’s tail wagged faster and faster.
* * * * *
Buffy had barely got back to the party, only to discover the incongruous scene of Rogue and the cat that had been “rescued” from her curled up in a huge, sleeping ball of grey and brown fur. She was just making her way over to speak to Dawn, when Rosa came running up to her. “Auntie Buffy, I checked everywhere, but I can’t find Unker Will. He’s not in the yard or in grandma’s apartment or our apartment.”
Buffy tried to concentrate on the vampire, willing him to be nearby. It suddenly struck her with chilling clarity that the pain in her gut was still a day or two early to be the onset of PMS.
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Chapter 3.04 Spike knew he’d been busted when his cell phone started ringing. Everyone who had the number was at the party, so when that phone rang, he knew he’d been missed. The aggressively cheerful ring tone informed him that whoever was calling was using Dawn’s cell, but right at that moment he was more preoccupied with the blood that was splattering its way into and around the drain by his feet, painting pretty Rorschach pictures, than answering the device. Not to mention the fact that said blood was actually spilling from his mouth in waves, so that answering was sort of impossible. The fact that he was bent nearly double and using both hands to brace himself against the wall so that the blood wouldn’t get on his clothing, and also just to stop him sliding to his knees, could also have been a slight hindrance. ‘For Chrissake, how long can it take to puke up one lousy pint of pig blood?’ Spike asked himself, the sensation of being sick so long forgotten that the total discomfort as his diaphragm continued to heave even after he had no more left in his stomach hit with all the impact of a fatal illness. Finally, his retching stilled and for now the pain receded. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his lips clean, the sight of bright blood against the white cotton triggering memories of his mother’s long infirmity and he shoved the cloth out of sight as if he could push away all other similarities in their situation. He checked what he could of his appearance. A few small spatters had caught on his jeans, but at night on the dark material no one would notice. His brow was slick with sweat, but if his tormentor given up for now, it would soon dry in the night air. He sighed and hit the speed dial button for Dawn’s phone. He could make a good guess at Buffy’s reaction to what was happening, and he really didn’t think it was a good idea for her to dive off the deep end, or ruin the party for anyone else. Vampires simply don’t get sick, not in the normal run of things. They can be injured, starvation can have all sorts of nasty side-effects as when Dru had been weakened, but one thing Spike knew from nearly a century and a quarter of first hand experience was vampires as a rule do not get sick. Once upon a time, Spike had known two people who could work this sort of magic, but the last one had died more than thirty years ago. He’d thought the workings had been lost. These weren’t the prim note takers of the Watcher’s council, these were the priests, the oungans, guys who ‘served with both hands’ as they put it down south in areas where, unofficially at least, vaudun was as much a religion as orthodox Christianity. If the artist formerly known as Red was playing with that sort of magic, even after what Anya’s little playmate had pulled off, it was a Hail Mary. It would age her into the ground. It might just take him out first though and it wasn’t like they didn’t know she was capable of it. It was exactly the same as she’d done the last time she had thought that Tara had slipped beyond her reach. She’d gone all out to get the person she thought was responsible, even if it killed her. That time, Buffy had gone in to pull her out. This time, he had a suspicion that if she got in the way, Buffy would be the one who needed help. To stop her, they were going to need someone as skilled and powerful in the vaudun as she was, or, more likely, given her recklessness, as skilled and powerful as the loa riding her. They were going to need someone who worked only for good. Despite vaudun’s depiction on the silver screen, this wasn’t the hard part. Most sorcerers worked only in white magic. More importantly, they needed someone who worked for good but would help to save a soulless vampire. Add to this that those practitioners who had an affinity for working with the dead almost invariably were drawn to the darker side sooner or later, and Spike didn’t know if the person they were looking for even existed. He did know that the place to start looking was New Orleans. First though, he had to get Buffy to accept that simply trying to kick the shit out of the bad guys wasn’t going to cut it. Best of all he had to try to sort all this out with Buffy without Niblet finding out ‘cause she’d more than her fair share of problems already, and without telling Buffy who he thought was behind it. Not without proof. All this had been running round his head for longer than he cared to think. At first his idea had simply been to weather the attack and try to push it from his mind before he went back to the party in hope that neither Buffy nor Lily would pick up on his worries, at least until he and Buffy had a chance to discuss it in private at home, but he had been gone too long and now he was going to have to face the music. “Spike?” Buffy answered the phone and the vampire didn’t know if this was good or bad. “Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t answer before…love.” “Where are you, Spike? What happened to you?” “I’m fine, pet. You haven’t got everybody all worked up lookin’ for me have you?” “Well, no, but only because we’d no idea where to look.” “Pet, I can hear you worryin’ from here. Now, tell them I just went to the liquor store because I fancied some bourbon an’ I couldn’t answer because I was in the middle of bein’ served an’ I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” “Spike?” “Look, love, I need to talk to you, but other than you an’ maybe the watcher boys, it’s somethin’ as there’s no need to go spreadin’ around and there’s definitely no need for gettin’ Niblet excited, okay? You with me?” “Spike, promise you’re okay. I felt something before.” “So did I, love, but it’s gone now. When you get a chance to slip away, come out the main door of the building, turn left and keep walking. I’ll meet you.” “Spike, why don’t you just come back?” “Because the two of us need to discuss this together before it ends up being open for debate and as soon as I get in that door Lily is gonna start wantin’ to know what’s happenin’.” “Okay.” “An’ Buffy…” “Yeah?” “Love you.” “Love you, too, even if you do cause massive dramas not telling people where you’re going.” Buffy’s tone was light but he could hear the underlying tension and he knew that she was trying to reassure those around her. Spike clicked the phone closed and started to walk slowly back toward Lily’s apartment, stopping when he was half a block away to wait for Buffy to meet him.
* * * * *
If Spike could have blushed at the way just seeing Buffy made him feel better, he would have done. ‘Gettin’ near as bad as the bloody poof,’ he thought to himself. Her walk-jog pace, the eternal mark of a high-heeled woman in a hurry, betrayed her own eagerness to reach him, and Spike let instinct take over, breaking into a jog of his own to meet her half way. “Wha-.” Buffy tried to question him about his disappearance, but his lips mashed against hers in a greedy welcome. His touch, as always, echoed his love and desire, but also fear and uncertainty and yet beneath them was an underlying determination. Faced with a multitude of questions she wanted answers to, Buffy chose one at random when she finally pulled back enough to let her read his face, even as his hands on her bare arms let her read his emotions. “Why do you taste like you just ate a whole pack of breath mints?” “Probably because I did just eat a whole pack of breath mints. Look, love, you know that vampires don’t get ill, right?” “Yeah, part of the whole undead deal. So?” “So, if last night’s stitch wasn’t a stitch and it came back worse so that I just spent half an hour pukin’ my guts up, it’s because someone’s makin’ me ill, and the only people I’ve ever known who could pull that sort of stunt were hardcore voodoo priests.” “Wood. It’s that Wood guy! Gotta be. So, we get Wes and Giles and Tara and we find out where he’s staying and we…” “We what, love? I’m not goin’ to be up for much for a while and I don’t see as any of the rest of you are goin’ to be killin’ a human. An’ besides, I’ve pissed off a lot of people in my time. No guarantee that it is him.” “It has to be. Look we can do the magic sand thing. Giles will be okay with us getting the stuff and we can-.” “Get the Niblet all upset again? Leave it for tonight, love. Seems to me like it probably takes it out of them near as much as it’s takin’ it out of me. Don’t reckon as they’ll try it again tonight, whoever it is, an’ you can get your stuff an’ do your thing tomorrow without getting’ everybody all worked up.” “At least let me get Tara to do a protection spell.” “After Niblet’s in bed asleep. Not as it’s like to help much.” “What do you mean?” “I mean voodoo doesn’t work like normal magic an’ it’s like as not gonna take another voodoo priest to break the spell.” “But we don’t know any voodoo priests.” “Then come tomorrow maybe it’s time we widened our circle of acquaintances but for tonight how’s about we see how much we can distract each other from worryin’ about it and head back to Lil’s before they send out search parties?” “Problem. Weren’t you supposed to be buying bourbon?” “There’s a bottle in the trunk of the car, under the jack.” “The car that Brandon has the keys for.” “Just the one set. There’s a spare in one of those little magnetic boxes tucked under the sill. We’re covered. All we’ve got to do is make sure we’re thinkin’ about nothin’ but each other by the time we’re close enough for Lily to pick up on anything. If, of course, you think you’re up to the challenge of distracting me that much.” Spike’s eyebrow swept upward and the tip of his tongue swept across his upper teeth. “Huh, I thought the problem was keeping your mind on anything other than sex? Heck, you probably get turned on watching the nature programs on the Discovery channel.” “I do not!” the vampire protested. “I never watch the Discovery channel. And I am not constantly horny… just semi-constantly horny… and only when you’re around.” Buffy’s eyes drifted down and her reply was husky. “I noticed.” “Have I told you how incredible you look in that dress, how it brings out the green in your eyes and makes you look like a golden goddess?” “You do realise, Wordsworth, that while we’re alone out here, Dawn and Brandon are alone back there, unsupervised.” Spike considered this fact for a millisecond. “I hope you’re wearin’ knickers under that thing, pet.” Before Buffy could even ask why, he had her hoisted over his shoulder and was running for the car. When they got there he spun round a couple of times, till Buffy’s protests turned to giggles before he set her back on her feet. “You are a positive Neanderthal,” Buffy told him. “I just take my fun where I can find it, love. And there’s not much I like better than hearin’ you laugh. Actually, no, I think I might even rate that higher than seein’ you come, feelin’ it, whatever.” He paused and licked his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Damn close run thing though.” “You are a sex addict, you know that?” “Nope. I’m a Buffy addict. Wouldn’t look twice if Liv Tyler climbed into my bed.” This time it was Buffy who raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Oh, alright, I might just sneak a peak but I’d never touch.” “So, it’s just coincidence that you were moaning ‘Liv’ in your sleep the other morning while you were groping me.” “I did… not,” Spike’s denial stalled midway as Buffy’s face creased into laughter once more. “You know fine well I was saying ‘love’.” “Yeah,” Buffy admitted. “But you’re so cute when you get all flustered, kinda like a cooler baby Giles.” “You are so gonna suffer for that comparison later, missy,” Spike replied even as he pulled the spare key from its hiding place and opened up the trunk. He pulled out a full bottle of bourbon and passed it to her before shutting the trunk and sliding the key back where it came from. “How are you going to do that?” Buffy teased. “I’m going to take you home and make you come in ways the librarian’s only seen in his damn books until you scream for mercy.” “Actually, I have it on good authority that Giles is like a stevedore in bed and you wouldn’t believe where he’s done it.” Spike’s arm slid around her shoulders and he reclaimed the bottle of bourbon. “I knew there was something goin’ on between the pair of you… Lolita.” His eyes danced with laughter as he teased her. “Maybe you really were thinking about Giles that time in the Bronze.” “Eugh, and still gross. You really think I could look into your eyes and ever think of anyone else?” “You tell me, pet.” “Well, for one thing, you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and you can read your every thought, your every feeling in them. No guy has ever made it so obvious, just with a glance, that he is absolutely and completely in love with me, so, no I could never think about anyone else while I’m with you.” She stretched to put her arms around his neck, nibbling gently at his earlobe as he opened the apartment door. “And I’d never want to,” she whispered. He just managed to drop the bottle of bourbon into a pocket rather than letting it fall to the ground before he picked Buffy up, with one hand on either side of her waist. He kissed her with all the tenderness and devotion she had claimed to read in his eyes as he carried her through the entrance hall and out toward the rear door, only putting her down as they reached the yard itself.
* * * * *
Spike and Buffy watched from where they lounged on the grass, using Spike’s duster as a blanket while Dawn and Brandon danced to a pounding electro beat. Rogue and Rupert were still curled up in a heap just a couple of feet away. “Feeling your age?” Buffy asked as Spike screwed up his face at the inhuman noise. “Music should be about playin’ not programmin’. That’s where the energy comes from, not uppin’ the beats per minute till women wobble like jellies tryin’ to keep up.” “I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” “Unker Will,” Rosa threw herself into his arms. “Mommy says that if I want you to do our song I have to get you to do it now so I can get ready for bed.” “Alright, munchkin. Where’s the guitar?” “Mommy’s got it inside.” “Don’t suppose I can talk you into stayin’ out here an’ keepin’ an eye on Romeo an’ Juliet?” he asked Buffy. “And miss this? I’ll get them to come and watch, too.” The vampire tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips. “Thanks ever so,” he grated sarcastically as he got to his feet and helped Buffy up. “So, what is it we’re about to be treated to? Puff the Magic Dragon?” “Credit me with some taste, love.” “I just don’t know what could possibly fit in your repertoire and still be suitable for kiddies.” “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Spike smirked and swept his coat from the ground and tossed it to Buffy. Buffy fetched Dawn and Brandon inside just in time to see Spike check the tuning on an acoustic guitar before he started playing a vaguely country sounding tune, nodding to Rosa to give her her cue to start singing along with him. “You who are on the road Buffy couldn’t help but notice how the pair seemed to lose track of everyone else in the room, or so she thought until Spike looked up and seemed to catch Wes’s eye. Buffy would swear that the watcher shifted awkwardly under the vampire’s gaze. |