SECTION 6 – BAD MOON RISING

Hope you got your things together
Hope you are quite prepared to die
Looks like we’re in for nasty weather
One eye is taken for an eye.

Don’t go around tonight
Well, it’s bound to take your life
There’s a bad moon on the rise

(Credence Clearwater Revival [written by John Fogerty], 1969)

Chapter 6.01

"Hey, we’re right by the gallery."

Spike pulled the car to a halt in front of a florist’s shop less than fifty yards from where Buffy’s mother had worked.

"Come on, you two, there’s someone I want you to meet." Parked as he was, on the shady side of the street, Spike shucked off the sweatshirt and pulled his duster from the back seat of the car, putting it on as he walked over to the entrance. Pulling the door open, he hustled the two girls in, following behind them.

"You didn’t tell me she knew mom," Buffy said, her tone slightly sad.

"Sort of expected you to work that out seein’ as how the shop was so close to the gallery and your mom gave a bouquet or something to every artist they had an exhibition for. Sorry, pet. I should have warned you. What about you, Bit? You were pretty quiet back there."

"I’m good, just so long as I get first dibs on the shower and Buffy helps me with my make-up." Dawn replied.

"Helps you with your make-up, or helps you with her make-up?" asked the blonde in a sceptical tone of voice.

"Hey, I didn’t know when I packed that I’d be sorta seeing someone tonight. Pleease. And my hair. It’ll buy you one week of bible study."

"Okay. Okay. When you put it like that, I guess I’m cornered. But if I’ve got this right then Spike owes us both."

"I don’t owe you anything for no bible study, not when you’re the one who wanted the church do. You owe me for tea with the vicar and forthcoming chats about the sanctity of marriage. I thought you realised I was a bottle blond."

"Hey," Buffy protested on behalf of natural blondes everywhere.

"Yeah, right, love. Like your hair just naturally changed from the colour it was when we first got engaged to the colour it is now. And you’ve been leaving it long enough between treatments lately for the roots to show now and again. Not to mention the fact I can smell the peroxide on you for about half a week after you get it done, even over the smell of mine."

"Busted," came the voice from the back seat of the car.

Buffy shrugged. "Riley believed it was natural."

‘Well,’ thought Spike, ‘the only certainty there, is that one of the two of them’s deluded.’

"Can’t we just agree not to mention your ex until he’s back in town and we can do something about him?" he asked.

"Whatya goin’ to do with Riley? I thought he was okay now, right?" Dawn asked.

"Probably not." Buffy sighed. "We think his story might have been a cover so that him and Sam could get the eggs."

"But Spike had the eggs, didn’t you?" Dawn sounded confused.

"Long story. Buffy can fill you in while she does your hair," Spike answered. "Boils down to Captain America’s an arse-hole."

The car pulled up at the front of Spike’s building again and Spike suggested that Buffy give her keys to Dawn so that she could get a head start on her shower, while the couple took their time.

"Pet, it occurs to me that if Dawn didn’t know about Cardboard, then I doubt we told the watcher either." Spike shrugged his way out of the duster, donning the sweatshirt for his walk into the building. "Thing is, all we have is conjecture, basically, but if we’re right, Giles should know. The problem with that is, if we’re right, depending whether he’s acting independently or for the government, there’s a fair to middling chance they could be keeping tabs on all of us somehow. ‘Course I should have thought of it before, but, hey, if Warren and his dwarves could manage it… how much easier would it be for Golden Boy? And Giles’ phone… I mean, anything big, you tell Giles, right?

But then there’s also the possibility we’re way off base, and the whole thing is a pile of bollocks, which, would, of course, make me a paranoid old git," Spike admitted ruefully.

"Only, when we’re talking about whatever quasi-Initiative group that Riley’s with, can we afford not to be?"

"Love, would you say lover boy was surprised when he found you in my crypt?" The vampire sounded contemplative.

Buffy cast her mind back. "No, I don’t think he was. I don’t think he was at all… And he knew I was at DMP. How’d he know I was working there? And my hair, he said he loved my hair, but I could have had it cut like that for more than a year for all he should have known, and it was in a ponytail. I mean how much can you tell about someone’s hair when it’s in a ponytail. I wouldn’t say I liked someone’s haircut without seeing it loose, never mind say I luvved it." Buffy twisted up her mouth as she said the last two words, the expression very reminiscent of her liquor face, only, this time Spike didn’t find it cute that something left a bad taste in her mouth. "It’s almost like he knew why I cut it. Like he was working on scoring points with me against you. Spike, I think you can officially colour me freaked."

"Don’t blame you, pet. Not feelin’ right peaceful at the minute, m’self. Best go catch up with little sis, and for now, I think we’ve got to think very carefully about what we say and where we say it. I’m kinda wonderin’ how far vengeance demons can teleport and whether Anya could do it." Spike opened his door and Buffy took this as her cue to get out too, waiting while the vampire locked up before walking into the building arm in arm.

Buffy quickly came to a decision. "I think we need to get everybody together some place they just can’t have staked out. We need to discuss this."

"I’ll see if the restaurant can change the booking to a table for seven. You ring the others say it’s so you can sort out getting dresses and stuff and it’s a thank you, but don’t say where we’re going just say I’ll pick up the witches and Harris can follow in their car. That way they should all get a nice surprise." The pair had just got to the top of the first flight of stairs when Spike stopped dead. "Buffy, I’ve just remembered I’ve got a problem with the battery on my phone. I better go find a call box. Don’t do anything till I get back." He pushed his duster and keys into her hands and headed back out.

More than half convinced he was being paranoid, Spike phoned up an entirely different restaurant, and booked a table for eight. He let the booking at the more popular restaurant he’d made under the name Summers stand. The new booking was made under the name of Alex Ferguson, but then he was fairly certain in Giles’ absence no one on this side of the Atlantic was going to recognise it as the name of Manchester United’s manager. Not in time to do anything about it, anyway. Then, just to confuse matters he made a few more phone calls, one to an import/export firm down by the docks, another five to different restaurants around the town, making reservations for parties of anywhere between six and ten people, and six to eateries that were already fully booked.

He followed this up with a call to the LA field office of the FBI, requesting to be transferred to an agent mentioned in some recent press coverage who, as it turned out, was very polite to the student who wanted to include her case as part of his thesis. She did point out that information in the case was still restricted so she couldn’t help. Spike didn’t care about anything except the fact the call was long enough to worry Finn if he ever found out. Then, putting as much change in as he could he dialled a gay chat-line and left the receiver off the hook as he walked away. Let the bastards trace the calls from that phone box now, for all the good it would do them.

By the time Spike made it back to the flat, both the girls had finished in the shower and dried their hair. Buffy had thought to bring a robe, the ivory satin making her tan look darker than it normally did. Dawn was still swathed in one of his white bath sheets. The first stage of the makeover was obviously completed because her hair billowed around her head in gentle waves instead of its normal straight lines. Buffy was evidently in the process of sorting through her make-up bag to see which of her cosmetics would best suit Dawn’s paler colouring, judging by the array that was spread around her on the bed.

Spike actually looked weary when he made his way through to where the women were and Buffy rose to meet him just inside the doorway, her hands resting against his chest as she stood on tiptoe for a kiss. When she dropped back onto the flat of her feet, he smiled down but for once it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

He pushed a hand through his still partially gelled hair before he spoke. "Just going to get my turn in the shower, pet. Everything’s sorted, if you want to ring your mates. If you tell them we’ll meet up quarter to eight, eight o’clock-ish, we hopefully won’t be running out on Lily as soon as we get there, but we’ll have to get a move on." He brushed his lips against Buffy’s cheek and gave Dawn a smile that was a poor imitation of the norm and turned toward the bathroom. Buffy hesitated as to whether she should follow him and regretted it when she heard the bolt snap into place, a first as far as she was aware. She waited until she heard the sound of the water running and the subtle change that indicated he had stepped under it, before she returned to choosing make-up for her sister.

Spike stood under the stream of water, oblivious to the pink tinge his skin was taking on. His arms were braced against the wall, holding him upright as slow tears fell from his eyes indiscernible from the steaming spray. Helplessness, frustration and loss warred within him as he faced the enormity of where his thoughts had led him.

If the government had been observing the Scoobies for any length of time, it was only realistic to assume they knew Dawn was the Key. As such, she was a potential threat, one they had to either control or eliminate. Either way there was a very good chance he was going to lose both the women he loved, and as long as he had the chip he was worthless in this fight.

Falling in love with the slayer had always been like living on borrowed time. He knew, in his bones, that sooner rather than later, he would see her returned to her grave. He had thought when that day came, Dawn and he would stand side by side in their grief. Now, it seemed far more likely that he would mourn both of them together. He couldn’t protect them and condemned by his word to Buffy, he couldn’t even end his existence.

They might make their move tonight or they might just watch and wait for years. If they realised the Scoobies knew they were being watched, that could even be the trigger that would cause them to act.

Buffy might come to this conclusion herself in time, but there was no way he was going to do anything to bring it to her attention. If he did, then the fear would just eat away at her insides while she waited and waited, just like it was doing to him.

He was going to fail them, again.

It didn’t take Buffy long to do Dawn’s make up. Her skin was flawless and using a base would only dull its healthy glow. All that was really needed was a light dusting of eyeshadow and some pale lip-gloss. Dawn had insisted on waiting for Spike to come out the shower to do her mascara after she accused Buffy of trying to poke her eye out.

This left the older girl free to do her own five-minute make-up job and get dressed. As a concession to the fact she couldn’t get too dressed up, she was once again wearing Spike’s favourite skirt. Her white strappy top had concealed under-wiring, so she didn’t need a bra and she had decided, in the interest of preserving the underwear that remained to her, that she would forego panties tonight. Based on Spike’s reaction the last time she wore that skirt, she anticipated some fairly urgent action tonight, probably the first time they were alone for five minutes out of range of teenage ears and eyes.

She still had phone calls to make, but she’d hoped that Spike would have made it out of the shower by now. After his subdued entrance and the way he shut her out of the bathroom for the first time, she hadn’t really expected it, but she had hoped. She paused to listen to the unvarying susurration of the falling water before knocking gently on the door.

"Spike," she fumbled searching her mind for some endearment that wouldn’t sound false, something she’d maybe called him at least once. She failed. She’d never once called him love, or honey, or darling. It was like some part of her refused to be that open in her affections, even now, when she knew he needed it, and then it clicked. "Will, are you okay in there? Can I come in?"

Suddenly the sound of the running water changed. He was moving again under the stream.

"Just a second, I’ll get the door." Spike automatically swiped at his cheeks as if to wipe away the tears, before he reached over, to undo the bolt. "It’s open."

Buffy didn’t know any other way to do this so she used the sledgehammer method. "What’s up? You weren’t happy when you left, but even I can tell you were less happy when you got back."

He couldn’t lie to her. It never worked. Maybe with enough time to think it through, he could figure a way to let her know part of it, without bringing up the question of the Key. "It’s complicated, pet, and we haven’t got time, right now, to start going into detail." As he spoke he went through the motions of shampooing his hair.

"Okay, you’re off the hook, but only till everyone goes their separate ways tonight.

I’ve still got to ring everybody and Dawn wants you to do her mascara, but other than that we’re ready to go. She says, at least you won’t try to poke her eye out. Another of your hidden talents?"

Spike shrugged, slathering a large blob of conditioner over his otherwise badly treated hair, leaving it on while he quickly soaped the rest of his body. "You learn a lot when you spend a century lookin’ after a woman who can’t look after herself.

Look, I guess I kinda spaced out for a bit. If you fetch me a clean shirt, some jeans, some socks ‘n’ me good boots I should be done by the time you look them out. Only thing is, you might have a problem finding a shirt that still has all its buttons."

Normally, watching him do anything shirtless, let alone naked had her yearning to jump his bones. She was just realising that, even more than the perfect body, what really pressed her buttons was the attitude. He was irresistible, because he believed he was and especially because he made her feel like she was too.

He knew that, unlike ninety nine percent of the population, he looked better naked than clothed and he flaunted it, for those he wanted that type of attention from. For now the attitude seemed to have taken a vacation. In fact, at last, Buffy could honestly say she knew what Spike’s penis looked like when it was totally flaccid.

She didn’t even think he’d noticed the skirt. It sounded really selfish, but the fact that something had knocked him so far off kilter that she was no longer foremost in his thoughts, made her more than a little worried. It also made her realise how much she took his feelings for granted. So she simply told him, "sure," and resolved that whatever it was, they would find time to talk it through before the night was over.

She went through to the bedroom quickly finding the items of clothing he’d requested, although as he’d warned when she looked through the shirts hanging up in the wardrobe, all her favourite ones were missing several buttons. He had none in either blue or black left, or at least not there and clean. She made do with one of his red ones, realising she couldn’t remember him wearing any of them since that day he’d sung for her. Changing her mind about letting him tell her in his own time she delegated the job of phoning the Scoobies to Dawn, also telling her if she was a long time with Spike to find Spike’s cell-phone and ring this Lily person to apologise for being late. She headed back to the bathroom with her booty piled in her arms.

Her teeth made indents in her lower lip as she slipped through the bathroom door to find him waiting for her. His hair was still damp, but had obviously been gelled and combed back, his torso and legs were still dotted with beads of moisture and a towel hung round his waist. He was giving his teeth another quick brush as part of his pre-going out routine. Even so, he managed to say something that approximated to, "thanks, pet," despite a mouthful of toothbrush and foam. She sat down with her back to the door and her feet braced against the side of the tub, watching as he finished up and rinsed, not bothering with his demon fangs this time.

"Will, I do sort of want to let you tell me what’s bothering you in your own time. Only, part of me thinks that wouldn’t be the best idea in the world, because this is the closest I’ve ever seen you to brooding like the Poof, as you would say," she started tremulously, even her attempt at goading him into a response uttered with anything but confidence.

"Thanks, pet." He gave her a sad half-smile. "I didn’t realise that there was a way I could feel worse about things without someone dyin’."

"Now there’s no way you get out of this bathroom without telling me what’s got feeling you like that."

"‘S nothing, slayer. Just me feelin’ like a wanker ‘cause when the shit hits the fan there’ll be bugger all that I can do to help. Worse than nothin. I’ll be a bloody liability, not even able to look after m’self."

She patted the floor next to her, waiting for him to take a seat before she rebutted his argument. "Spike, I don’t think you’re a liability." She shifted so they sat hip to hip, intertwining the finger of her hand with his. "You’ve helped out before when we’ve had to deal with humans. If it wasn’t for you I would have got a sword through my skull when we had those knights after us. You got the orbs off Warren. Without you, we’d have walked in there blind and got our butts kicked."

"Pet, you know that if I hadn’t been around to translate that passage, Red would’ve bunged it through some translation software. And any one of the others could’ve done what I did in the fight. And the reason I wasn’t a liability when you took on the knights that go "ni" was because back then you didn’t give a toss whether I lived or died.

You said yourself this morning, that you and Dawn would both try to protect me. ‘N’ yeah, if we’re talkin’ about you takin’ on half a dozen unarmed guys, I won’t like it, but I’ll deal. When we’re talkin’ about situations where there’s a chance of you or Bit getting’ hurt, I want you to promise me you’ll let me take my own chances."

"Spike, it won’t come to that. If they let us just get on with things after the whole Adam mess, they’re not going to come after us now. It’s not like we’re a threat to National Security or any—" Buffy stopped mid-word when she noticed the way his jaw muscles were suddenly twitching. "Spike, wha— Dawn, you think they know Dawn’s the Key."

Spike bowed his head, his gaze focussed on his upraised knees, his words spoken in a hushed and deathly serious tone. "I think if they knew about us when the Scoobies didn’t, there’s not much hope they haven’t heard somebody say something about the Bit …and I think the second she ever seems to be anything more than a normal teenager they’ll want to either control her or kill her… And I think you would let them kill you first."

Buffy used her free hand to grasp the vampire’s chin, forcing his head round until they locked eyes. "And I know if that was what it took, that a certain pig-headed master vampire would be standing right next to me, at the very least blocking their way to her. And more than likely beating them through the pain. If we go down, we’ll go down together.

And as far as we can tell it’s a moot point anyway, because Dawn is a perfectly normal teenager."

"That’s what we’re goin’ to have to hope, pet, but in Sunnyhell, what turns out how you want it to?"

"We did," answered Buffy before she pressed her lips to his, her hand moving from his chin to cup his cheek. "All we can do now is bring everyone up to speed and then wait and see. There’s no point worrying over ‘could happen’s and ‘might be’s or we’ll smother her." She shifted so that they rested forehead to forehead, looking straight into each other’s eyes. "Capisce?"

"Capisce, love" he responded with an amused smile, before he mounted a counter attack on her mouth, that ended some minutes later with them horizontal on the bathroom floor and Spike’s towel having been dislodged early in the proceedings.

"Now I know you’re feeling better," teased Buffy as her eyes travelled the length of his body. "But we’ve got places to be and people to …meet."

"Shit. Lily." Spike made a grab for the pile of clean clothes, pulling on garments with no apparent logic other than the order that they came to hand, first a sock, then his shirt, then his jeans and finally the other sock. He pulled his belt from the loops of his discarded jeans and transferred over some odds and ends to the pockets of the clean pair, then exited the bathroom even as he fixed his belt into position. Two steps later, he went back for his boots.

SECTION 6 – BAD MOON RISING

Hope you got your things together
Hope you are quite prepared to die
Looks like we’re in for nasty weather
One eye is taken for an eye.

Don’t go around tonight
Well, it’s bound to take your life
There’s a bad moon on the rise

(Credence Clearwater Revival [written by John Fogerty], 1969)

Chapter 6.02

It was a very nervous slayer who waited at the apartment door along with her sister and her fiancé. The sight of Clem’s friendly face did a lot to restore her, before she realised, it might not necessarily be Clem at all. It could be a relative of some sort. It would be kinda embarrassing if she was wrong, but she didn’t know how you could tell whatever type of demon Clem was apart from others of the same type. Oops, Giles would not be proud of her research skills. She’d never even asked Spike what breed of demon he was.

Spike led the way into the apartment chatting to the demon who held the door open as he moved down the hall, at least until he was distracted. "Hey, mate. D’yer mum get the message we were running a bit late?"

"Yeah, s’okay, Marie’s working late anyway so we’re still waiting..." The demon paused to watch as a small pink and black missile impacted with Spike’s legs. "…For her," he finished off, as Spike swung the missile up into his arms.

"Unker Will. Gramma says I forgotted you, but I didn’t."

"I knew you wouldn’t, pixie." Spike brushed away stray strands of jet-black hair from the little girl’s face and gave her a quick peck on the end of her nose. The girl settled comfortably with a leg either side of Spike’s hip and her arms round his neck, while Spike supported her with an arm under her bottom.

Spike turned around facing back toward the front door. "Rosa, I want you to meet some very special people. The lady with the flowers is Buffy. Buffy and I are going to be getting married soon, and the other lady with her is her sister Dawn. And your Uncle Will likes them both very much."

At first all the girls could see was a curtain of glossy black hair tied with a pink bow, but when the girl raised her head from where it was buried in Spike’s neck they found themselves looking into the sweetest, pair of chocolate brown eyes they could imagine. Everything about the little girl, from her Barbie pink jeans and T-shirt to her white high-tops, looked hundred percent cute-as-could-be human, except for her ears, which flopped forward just like Clem’s. If Xander could have seen her he might have been putting two and two together about the father of Anya’s daughter in his visions.

Dawn waved at the little girl. "Hi, Rosa."

Buffy, meanwhile looked across from the child to the demon she was now fairly certain was Clem, a decision mostly based on the clothes he was wearing, her eyebrow raised. Clem, or his look-alike just shook his head, crossing and uncrossing his hands to indicate his lack of paternity.

"Hello," answered the girl before burying her face once more against Spike’s neck. "They’re pretty," she whispered into his ear.

"Yes, pet. All Uncle Will’s girls are pretty. Let’s go take them to meet your gran." Still carrying the girl on his hip he made for the main room of the apartment and once there, pushed aside an ajar door to enter the kitchen. Clem and the girls stayed back in the living room not wanting to crowd the chef.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Clem said to Buffy, preventing her from listening to the hushed conversation in the kitchen.

"Yeah, it looks that way."

Clem looked at Buffy just a little awkwardly. "Do we hug? …I mean, is this a hug type situation?"

"Yes, Clem. We hug." Passing her bouquet to Dawn temporarily, she moved forward to hold Clem around the waist as best she could with her small arms.

"So who’s the little cutie in pink?" Dawn asked as Buffy extricated herself from Clem’s arms.

"Rosa? She’s my niece."

"I never heard you mention any brothers or sisters," responded the younger Summer’s.

"Yeah, well, Rosa’s dad passed away nearly two years ago now." Clem shuffled and looked uncomfortably around the room, looking at everything except Buffy. "But she’s got her mom and me and her grandma to look after her. She misses him sometimes, but she’s fine."

Buffy found herself trying to do a mental review of all her patrols around that time. The thing is, patrolling generally consisted of killing demons who attacked her, or who she caught attacking someone else. She thought it was unlikely that any brother of Clem’s would fall into that category. What was she doing two years ago? Mom was still alive. She was in college, living in a dorm, dating Riley. The Initiative… She just knew that this little girl’s father had been killed in one of Maggie Walsh’s science experiments, or maybe in that final battle, trying to escape, to get back to his family. Suddenly the fact that she had ever had anything to do with the Initiative made her feel like Mengele’s accomplice.

"She seems to like Spike, anyway," Dawn tactfully steered the conversation away from the sensitive subject, knowing what a touchy topic loss could be.

Clem smiled his agreement. "Sure. She loves the accent. And he always reads to her. You should hear him do Billy Goats Gruff, ‘course we had to tell her that trolls don’t really live under bridges, or at least not all the time, but it’s worth it when Spike does all the voices. Quite the Hans Christian Anderson, he is."

"Hey, Clem. How ’m I ever goin’ to convince ‘Bit’s new boyfriend that I’m the Big Bad, if you keep tellin’ her things like that she can pass on. She’ll make him think I’m a right poofter." Spike was coming back out of the kitchen, still carrying his young admirer and being followed by a petite female horned demon who didn’t look too much older than her son.

Dawn made a motion as if to zip her lips closed. "Your secret’s safe with me. At least until I have a Bite Size or two of my own that need read to. Then we’ll send for you."

Buffy couldn’t place it at first, but eventually she realised who Clem’s mom reminded her of. She was smaller of course, and apparently younger and of course female and her eyes were more like Clem’s, but his mother reminded her of the demon who had tried to sell the books of ascension to her and Faith. The demon Faith killed, as Buffy had later realised when she found out Faith had been working with the black-hats.

Buffy had another bad feeling his apartment had been near the bus station, just as they were near the bus station, now. She found herself hoping he wasn’t another of Clem’s relations. No wonder Clem acted nervous around her.

Spike noted Buffy’s discomfort, and slipped his free arm around her shoulders pulling her to his side. The gesture felt better than Buffy would ever have imagined. It announced to all the people in the room that she was his. His to love, his to support, his to hold and his to protect even from well-meaning friends who had every reason to hate her. Suddenly feeling more comfortable, Buffy transferred the flowers to one hand so she could slide the other under his duster and into the far back pocket of his jeans. She smiled as their eyes met, knowing he’d be able to read her gratitude and love in her expression as plain as if she’d said the words out loud.

"So William," said the diminutive demon, "you going to introduce us, or you going to forget you gentleman and stare all night like puppy dog?"

"I can’t do both?" Spike turned to the older demon, head tilted and eyebrow raised, eliciting a small giggle from the child in his arms. "Lily, this is my fiancée, Buffy."

Buffy temporarily withdrew her hand from under Spike’s coat holding it out towards her hostess. "It’s very nice to meet you."

Clem’s mom made a small grunting noise as if she knew that it was anything but nice for Buffy to meet her, but then took the proffered hand shaking it firmly. "Seems like you wise-up. You make him happy, that good. You treat him like dog, you make him no happy, you no more welcome here. Understand?"

Buffy gulped and nodded. "I understand. These are for you." Buffy held out the bouquet to her hostess, her nerves returning despite Spike’s reassuring arm around her. Slaying demons, she could do. Interacting with demons who could read her emotions, not so good.

"Thank you." replied the woman before turning to give them to her son, requesting that he put them in a bucket with some water until she had time to find a vase.

"These are for you, too." Dawn handed over the box of chocolates she had been carrying. The demoness’s face softened visibly as she turned to the younger Summers.

Spike obliged with the formal introductions. "This is Dawn, Buffy’s sister. Dawn, Lily."

Dawn was surprised to find herself enveloped in a hug. "Those who are true friends to our true friends are always welcome in this house. You good for William. He go poof if you no here last year."

"Hey, less with the poof comments. I know your English is good enough to know better," Spike protested.

"Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. You’re very kind to have us all," Dawn responded.

"Sit. Sit." Lily pointed toward the three-piece suite occupying one end of the spacious living room. "I go watch food. Fix flowers. Clem, he stay." With that she bustled off in the direction of the kitchen again, depositing the chocolates on a side table as she left. "Marie, she Rosa’s momma, be home soon. Then we eat."

Spike put his charge down on the floor when he reached the sofa, but once he had taken a seat she immediately climbed into his lap. He turned to Clem. "So, mate, did Buffy tell you why I was actually trying to ring you in the first place, or are you still in the dark."

Clem shrugged and looked at Buffy and then back to Spike. "So, what’s the news?"

They were still discussing things to do with the wedding, suits and fittings when they heard a key in the front door. Rosa scrambled off Spike’s knee in a mad rush for the door.

"Momma, momma. Unker Will’s here with some pretty ladies."

"Why doesn’t that surprise me?" came the wry reply from the as yet unseen woman in the hall.

"Are you casting aspersions on my character, amiga?" Spike responded, turning in his seat to see the woman who entered the room.

"Wouldn’t you have to find some first, amigo?" the woman teased. She leant over the arm of the sofa and kissed Spike on the cheek, and Dawn and Buffy caught their first glimpse of the tiny, beautiful Hispanic woman. Buffy felt distinctly underdressed in comparison to the impeccably made-up woman in her navy business suit. "I’m just going to say hi to Lily and go get changed. You can do the introductions when I get back, though I think I can guess." She blew a kiss to Clem as she turned to leave, chatting to the excited Rosa about her day with her grandma as she went.

"Your brother doesn’t seem to have shared your objection to tight-skinned women, then, Clem?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, he did. It’s just when you meet someone like her, looks don’t matter. You can’t have everything," the wrinkly demon replied, and Buffy didn’t have a clue whether he was being serious or having a joke at her expense. She also wondered if he was nursing a bit of a crush on the woman himself.

"Yeah, when you meet the right one you just have to grin and bear it if she looks like Salma Hayek," Dawn made use of her best sarcastic voice.

"Hey, Bit, can the sarcasm till you get to know the lady. Then, you can be sarcastic to her face. Till then, behave." Spike interceded on the absent woman’s behalf.

Buffy began to think if Spike called Marie ‘a lady’ and objected to Dawn’s comment, then probably Clem’s remark had been no more than the truth. In which case, she really didn’t feel comfortable having Lily able to compare the two of them. She wasn’t even sure she liked Spike comparing the two of them.

"All the cutlery and stuff in the same place?" Spike asked rising from his chair and taking off his duster, slinging it over the back of the sofa where he’d been sitting.

"Sure," answered Clem. "I’ll get the table-cloth."

Buffy and Dawn watched as without any prompting, the two men cleared away Rosa’s crayons and colouring-in books and set the table ready for dinner, working around each other as if they’d done it many times before. In fact when Buffy offered to help they just waved her away saying they had things under control.

Before they had finished Marie came back into the room, carrying Rosa piggy back. This time she wore a pair of faded blue jeans, trainers and a Miami Hurricanes football top, and her once elegant coiffure was scooped up into a sloppy ponytail. Now that Buffy could see her closer up, she realised that she was probably only a year or two this side of thirty, a good seven or eight years older than the slayer.

"Hey, Spike. Ready to do the honours or should we just introduce ourselves?" Marie called over.

The vampire gave a snort. "Like I’m going to leave you lot unattended to swap secrets. ‘Bout as much chance of that as there is of Clem here winning the Miss Sunnydale pageant."

Spike bustled round, rapidly finishing his share of the chore before he came back to the end of the room where the women congregated.

"Marie, Buffy, Dawn. Happy now?" he asked, looking at Marie.

"Not yet," answered the brunette. "Say, Buffy, what would you say is the most embarrassing thing you’ve seen Spike do?"

Spike rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen.

"Guess it must be time for Clem to dust off his swimsuit," Buffy commented dryly. "And I think I’d have to go with dating Harmony. Or getting thrown through a window for propositioning a robot. You?"

"I quite liked it that Thanksgiving when he was bouncing round tied to a chair going, ‘You made a bear. You made a bear. Undo it. Undo it,’" Dawn responded, imitating the blond vamp.

"Knowing Spike, I’m not going to ask why he was tied to a chair to begin with. It would probably be unsuitable for small ears," Marie remarked.

"You think that was bad. I spent the rest of that week chained up in the watcher’s bath tub with Missy feeding me through a straw," Spike complained as he brought through a casserole dish and put it on the table. Lily followed behind him carrying dishes filled with potatoes and vegetables.

"Only because Buffy wouldn’t do it," retorted Dawn. "She said he kept trying to look down her top."

"Yeah …so. I was chipped, not neutered, pet," the vampire acknowledged, going through to the kitchen. This time when he returned he was carrying a mug of steaming sanguine goodness.

"Sit, everybody. Food is ready." The family matriarch took her seat at one end of the table. As the man of the house Clem sat opposite her. Spike sat down next to a bare place setting, drawing Buffy into the seat next to him, leaving Dawn, Rosa and Marie to sit at the other side of the table. Knowing they still had to eat wherever they were going and observing that Spike wasn’t eating at all, Dawn and Buffy took only sparing portions of the tuna casserole and overcooked vegetables. Buffy realised the same could be said of Clem. Was this the explanation for all the junk food he ate? Could his mother’s cooking be that bad? After one mouthful she knew. It was.

Somehow Buffy made it through the meal. With everyone eating except Spike there wasn’t much in the way of chatter. Buffy was glad. She felt decidedly uncomfortable whenever she was in the same room as Clem’s mom. It was the same sort of uneasiness you get when confronted with a policeman. Even if you’re totally innocent you feel guilty. In Buffy’s case it was worse because she, Lily and Clem knew she was guilty. They had seen Spike’s broken body and mutilated face. They knew that she was the monster, not Spike.

Spike forgave her before she’d even left. It was as if he felt he deserved no better. Those of her friends that she’d told forgave her because she was Buffy, they were her friends and that’s what friends did. If some of them thought Spike didn’t matter because he was evil and soulless then that just made it easier for them. Now for the first time she had to face up to what she’d done through the eyes of people who cared about Spike and knew he deserved better. They weren’t predisposed to forgive her. To them she was Spike’s abusive partner. Buffy looked into the mirror of other people’s opinion and realised that if she had to put a name to the girl she saw reflected back, it wouldn’t be Buffy. It would be the slayer, or maybe even Faith.

Maybe she had stared too long into the abyss, and that was who she was now. Or maybe, just maybe she could change again for the better this time. Her spirit guide had said that she was full of love, that she would only lose it if she refused it. If she let him, Spike would teach her to give her love freely. In her mind, that was the bravest thing Spike did. However often, and however much he was hurt, Spike never hid behind emotional walls and barricades. He gave of himself freely and without reserve. After Angel hurt her, she had never opened herself to that intensity of feeling again for fear it would lead once more to that same pain.

‘Crummy time for an epiphany’, she thought, as she struggled her way through lumpy custard and super-sour rhubarb crumble. When they were sneaking around, they never seemed to have a problem finding time to be alone. Now, it seemed that there were always others around, that there were always things to be done, places to be. At the end of the night, though, he was hers and hers alone. Tonight, after they saw the others, after the Bronze, after patrol she would tell him. For now, she made do with letting her hand rest on his thigh. Cool fingers covered her own and her eyes flicked to his face, only to be trapped yet again by the love in those irresistible cobalt depths.

Buffy still didn’t know how she came to find herself in love with the blond vampire. Maybe she’d already been in love with him before he cast the spell to have his will done. Maybe she fell in love with the side of him she saw under the spell. Or maybe it just fell into place as soon as she stopped guarding her feelings against him, but she did know that the look in those eyes was at least part of the reason why she fell.

SECTION 7 – I SECOND THAT EMOTION

Maybe you think that love would tie you down
You ain’t got the time to hang around
Maybe you think that love was made for fools
So it makes you wise to break the rules

Oh little girl, in that case I don’t want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you feel like loving me
If you got the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you feel like giving me
A lifetime of devotion
I second that emotion

(Japan [written by Smokey Robinson and Arthur Cleveland])

Chapter 7.01

The rest of the night was just so many hours to go through until they could be alone. In the end Spike disregarded all the bookings he’d made and drove them to an out of the way roadhouse that did bar meals and was mostly patronised by bikers. And if Xander felt out of place, then it was a good bet none of Riley’s cohorts could walk in unnoticed either. The food was good and for those who partook the beer was better.

The gang took it much as expected when they found out that they could be under surveillance. Willow and Tara volunteered to research all means magical and electronic to find any listening devices or cameras that might be hidden too subtly for the human or vampire eye. Xander floundered in denial and Anya said that if she found they were selling any tapes she wanted royalties. Dawn was distressed but stoically brave when she found out the government could be aware of her secret identity. She promised that if anything key-related occurred Buffy and Spike would be first to know, away from the house and any potential listening devices. Just in case, the group agreed, no more Key comments, monk comments or anything that could lead them to investigate Dawn’s background, if somehow they didn’t already know.

Spike got volunteered to drive Buffy, Dawn and the witches to LA the following morning, so that they could choose the bridesmaid’s dresses, and he booked rooms for them all at the same motel again, so they could leave it till Sunday night to drive back. Xander announced that he’d finished the plans for the basement and submitted them to city hall for planning permission. Willow said Spike’s computer was up and running and just needed to be moved to the flat.

Funnily enough, once they found out about Dawn’s date, the rest of the gang also decided to swing by the Bronze, just for a drink or two. This, reasoned Buffy, meant she and Spike could swing a quick patrol while Dawn was under the watchful gaze of the other adults, giving Dawn the illusion of more privacy and her and Spike more time alone later. Even more surprisingly, Spike agreed without protest, though he insisted if they weren’t back by the time the others left Dawn and Janice had to leave with them.

It was latish by the time they arrived at the Bronze. From her black looks, so like her sister’s, Spike judged that the guy in the corner talking to the two girls, was the gentleman Dawn had been hoping to see. Spike eavesdropped on enough of the conversation to be able to tell it was the girls who were on the hunt, not the guy and he decided to let her know before she caused a scene.

"Better go rescue him, Bit, before he has to resort to harsh language. Those two don’t seem to take the hint. We’ll be up on the balcony when you’re ready to do the introductions. Don’t make us wait too long."

So, while the others headed for the bar and Dawn went to get her man, Buffy found herself back on that familiar balcony.

Buffy wasn’t angry at him per se, but she was ready to be if he didn’t have a good reason for bringing her here. "Why here? We’re not…"

"No, pet, we’re not. I’m just hoping we’re going to be in and out too quick for it to be worth getting a drink. We’re too late to get a table without threatening someone. I didn’t want to say we’d be on the dance-floor, ‘cause then we’d be stuck there whatever crap they play. And from up here we can play spot the vamp, and keep an unobtrusive eye on Bit till we leave. And maybe I can get you to tell me what was causing all the frown lines back at Lily’s."

"Am I that easy to read?" Buffy asked.

"Only to me," answered her peroxided paramour, as he drew her into his arms for a gentle kiss, deliberately keeping both hands on her back above the waist in case teenaged eyes were watching.

"Tonight, back at your place, we’ll open that bottle of champagne and I’ll tell all," Buffy promised. "Of course it could just be indigestion, which I notice you managed to completely avoid."

"Not my fault if everybody knows vampires don’t eat." Spike’s eyes narrowed as he looked at something over Buffy’s shoulder.

"What’s with the look. We got business?" Buffy asked.

"No, just that Bit’s bloke moves like he knows how to fight, and until I know he’s going to be using that to look after her, I’m not sure I like it. I’d rather be sure if it came to a fight she’d win."

"I’ll buy her some pepper spray or mace, whatever. She can look after herself better than most kids her age anyway. She’ll be fine. Just try to be nice." Taking Spike’s arm she turned him to face the stairs as her sister’s head came into view.

Dawn chatted as she came upstairs, hand in hand with the new man in her life. "Spike’s cool, most of the time, but he can be a bit over-protective. He’ll probably act like a jackass until he trusts you, but as long as you aren’t looking to use me and then dump me, you should live." That should do it, Dawn thought, knowing her ploy could work one of two ways. Either Spike would go into total asshole mode, in which case Brandon had been warned, or he’d do the opposite and try to prove her wrong, which would suit her just fine. Judging by the smirk on his face it was going to be the former.

Maybe Buffy spotted the warning signs because she stepped in front of the vamp ensuring she would be first to greet the newcomer. "Hi. I’m Dawn’s sister, Buffy, and this is my fiancé, Spike. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Mentally, Buffy was berating herself for Spike’s influence on her sister. The look was more Goth than Billy Idol, and the black T-shirt had a design printed on in white, a cartoon of a goth looking girl in a vest wearing an ankh against a checkerboard background. However, the tight black jeans, the boots (in this case New Rocks) and the black nail polish were pure Spike, even if he only had a biker’s leather jacket, currently carried not worn, rather than a full length duster. His hair was short and she thought it was naturally dark, but spiked with coloured gel that made it reflect ultramarine when the light caught it. The difference in their respective heel sizes made him look only an inch or so taller than Dawn, but they were probably both still growing. He wasn’t broad or imposing like some football players Buffy remembered from high school, but from what she could see of his arms Buffy would bet Spike was right. He was muscled like a dancer or a martial artist and she didn’t know many fifteen-year-old boys (wait, he drove, must be sixteen) that keen on dancing. He certainly didn’t look like he’d be auditioning for any boy bands soon. Though, Dawn was right. The guy was definitely a cutie, green eyes and a sweet smile.

"Hi, it’s nice to meet you, too." He held his hand out toward Buffy and after shaking hands with her to Spike. To Dawn’s surprise Spike didn’t make a point of crushing his hand. He didn’t make any obnoxious comments or anything, just said, "pleasure," and then lit up one of his illegal cigarettes.

"Did Dawn mention we’d like you to come over for dinner on Tuesday?" Buffy asked.

"Give me a chance. We only got here five minutes ago," Dawn protested.

"Don’t worry, mate. ‘S just Buffy’s responsible for Dawn, so we like to know the people she hangs around with. That’s all. We’re not going to tie you to a chair and force you to eat Buffy’s cooking." Spike dodged the half-hearted slap that accompanied Buffy’s, "hey."

"And these are meant to be my role-models," said Dawn. "Can we go now?"

"Where’s Janice? I thought she was joining you this evening," Spike queried.

"Her mom’s dropping her off at half past. She didn’t want to get here early and have to hang round on her own. Now can we go?"

"Yeah. Don’t do anything you’ve been told not to do. If you need anything before we get back, see one of the guys or ring Spike’s mobile, and we’ll see you nearer curfew," Buffy replied following the pair downstairs, with Spike on her heels. They had a quick word with the others before they left and then headed for the cemeteries.

Buffy was the first to break the silence as they walked. "You were remarkably civil, there."

"And what?" Spike pouted. "You thought I was going to threaten to kill him if he hurt her or something. Contrary to popular belief those words do not come out of everyone’s mouth any time a Summers starts dating someone. ‘S not like I could lay a finger on him anyway. You would be the one beatin’ him up, pet. Or not, since you didn’t even give that Parker git the hidin’ he deserved."

"Just thought you might have felt compelled to say something as the man of the house," Buffy retorted.

"You made it perfectly clear that I shouldn’t overstep the big-brother mark. Besides, you think I’m stupid enough to do the warning in front of Bit. He’ll get it at least twice tonight off Harris and Red anyway. I thought since she won’t actually be leaving with him tonight I’d cut him some slack." Spike smirked. "At least until Tuesday."

"So, you’re all chummy and I get to look like the evil one. Gee thanks, Spikey."

"You said to try to be nice. I was nice."

"My point exactly, since when do you do what I ask you to do."

Spike’s gaze turned into a leer, and he practically purred his response. "I can think of quite a few times in the not too dim and distant, sweetness."

"Pig," retorted the slayer as her cheeks flushed bright red despite the rush of blood to other areas, lengthening her stride to leave Spike behind.

Spike just grinned and appreciated the view she presented to him, adjusting his own pace to stay a few yards behind her. At this speed they would do the rounds and be back at the Bronze in less than an hour, which suited him just fine.

Without the three stooges sticking their oar in, or summoning up weird and unusual demons for them to play with patrol was actually verging on boring. As far as the demon population went it was only the freshly risen and terminally stupid who didn’t know better than to cross paths with the two blondes these days. Spike’s guess was that it would stay that way until some out of towner showed up and tried to crown himself the new Big Bad. Somehow, that always seemed to be about autumn. No one seemed to want to move to Sunnydale in the summer, not that he could blame them. If it wasn’t for the whole lack of circulation thing Spike knew he’d find it too damn hot. So maybe they would get a couple of months peace and quiet to get Bit half-way trained up before the next crisis hit, if they were lucky, assuming the tin soldier stayed away.

At the Bronze, they seemed to have made progress over the last week. Xander didn’t let his mouth hang open when they snogged or danced any more, and they went the whole night without anyone having to jump down his throat and tell him to get over himself. Bit and her beau behaved themselves in a nervously cute, teenage kind of way, though Spike suddenly found himself almost rooting for Angel’s son. At least he was one hundred percent certain that he didn’t have any connection with the Initiative. Hard as it was though, he’d give the boy a chance but if Niblet shed a single unhappy tear over him, somehow the boy would be history.

Finally, it was time for them to go, and their elders watched with varying degrees of approval as the kid tentatively kissed Dawn on the cheek, only to have her plant an open-mouthed smacker on his lips, that had Spike all but growling. He scowled his disapproval all the way to Janice’s house, warning Dawn to be ready early for the trip to LA.

And then they were on their own, just Spike and Buffy.

SECTION 7 – I SECOND THAT EMOTION

Maybe you think that love would tie you down
You ain’t got the time to hang around
Maybe you think that love was made for fools
So it makes you wise to break the rules

Oh little girl, in that case I don’t want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you feel like loving me
If you got the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you feel like giving me
A lifetime of devotion
I second that emotion

(Japan [written by Smokey Robinson and Arthur Cleveland])

Chapter 7.02

They were both silent in the car, but not an awkward silence, just an agreement between them that whatever needed to be said could wait. The vertical portion of the walk from Spike’s car to the flat was only accomplished after many pauses, which went some way toward making Spike feel like a hypocrite and finally entailed him picking Buffy up and carrying her up the final flight and a half. Otherwise, he claimed he would have had to take her there on the stairs and damn the neighbours.

Buffy knew that by the time they reached the flat he would be impatient. She had planned it that way. She was counting on it in fact. Even as he set her on her feet and closed the front door, they continued to savour the taste of each other’s mouths. Her hand moved to the front of his jeans, cupping and stroking the swelling there until she was sure he was ready for her.

Trailing kisses along his jaw-line she finally nipped and nibbled at his ear as her hands loosened his belt buckle. Spike backed her against the wall, one hand slipping between the layers of leather to tease the coarse curls at the juncture of her thighs, the other sliding under her top to cup her breast, his thumb teasing back and forward over her already erect nipple.

"Spike?" her voice came soft and throaty at his ear.

"What, love?"

"I want… I think it’s time… The claim, don’t want to wait," she whispered.

He drew his head back, pinning her with his tender gaze, even as the hand beneath her skirt parted her warm wet folds. "You’re totally sure?"

The slightest flicker of doubt crossed her face. "Ninety five percent sure," she answered.

"That’s pretty certain," Spike conceded, his fingers gently stroking back and forward on her sensitive flesh. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head to suck on her free nipple through the fabric of her top.

"Ah …as sure …ahhh …as I’m …oh, oh …going to get," Buffy struggled to make her reply as he eased a finger into her, while his thumb teased at the bundle of nerves within her hot moist lips. He set a steady rhythm with his thrusts and she ground against his hand urging him to move faster and harder, her hands ripping at his flies until he moved his hips out of reach. His hands and mouth caused waves of sensation to build within her, urging her toward a crescendo he wouldn’t let her reach.

Buffy moaned her discontent as he stilled his movements, lifting his head and withdrawing his hand from between her legs to lick it clean.

"Please, Spike, please."

"Soon, baby. Going to feel good real soon." He nudged aside the straps on her top as far as he could with her coat still in place, pushing the material down to bare her breasts. Buffy grasped the lapels of his coat, roughly pulling him toward her.

"Not soon, now, Spike, now." She smashed her mouth against his and this time when she popped the flies on his jeans button by button he let her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to his knees before laying her gently down on her back. His hand moved between her legs once more as his tongue explored her mouth. This time he plunged two fingers inside her, working them swiftly in and out. She bucked her hips beneath him, her hands reaching for his velvet smooth cock. Swifter than her lust-blurred senses could detect, with no perceptible break in rhythm Spike slammed home with his dick instead of his fingers.

Buffy screamed her pleasure mingled with a hint of pain at the suddenness of the invasion. Her inner muscles stretched to their maximum capacity with little preparation.

"That what you wanted, love?" Spike asked, his lips against her neck as he moved down to cover his mark with his lips.

"Yes …oh God, yes," Buffy panted as his tongue probed the almost healed scars on her neck, electrical charges arcing through her body.

"Feels good, doesn’t it? Fills your tight little pussy just right?" he murmured against her neck.

"Yes, Spike …oh God …harder."

Spike obliged, sliding a hand beneath her hips to change the angle and slamming hard against her clit with his pelvis with each thrust. "Feels so good, and it’s all for you, Buffy. Only ever for you from now on."

"Mine," she answered. "Only mine."

As she spoke the words Spike brought forth his demonic visage and then kissed her as they both neared their peak. Buffy probed deep into his mouth with her tongue and then pulled it back into her mouth, using his fang to rip a tear in its upper surface as she did so.

The ragged stinging line of pain pushed her over the edge as the surge of her blood in his mouth brought him crashing with her.

Instinct took Spike over. "Mine!" he cried, before his fangs found their exact mark on her neck. Buffy made her own claim a fraction of a second later, forcing herself to bite down as hard as she could at the join of his neck and shoulder.

Spike raised his head, opening a cut on his tongue even as he changed back into human form. "Yours, forever, Buffy," he confirmed in a soft voice.

"And I’m yours, Will, until the end of the world." He licked gently at the puncture wounds in her neck until her blood stopped flowing, and she followed suit. The taste of their mingled blood filled their mouths.

At first Buffy put the light-headed feeling down to post-coital euphoria, but then she felt the familiar pounding through her veins. She was aware of her blood pumping through every vessel in her body, could almost see the individual cells. She felt a sense of foreboding, waiting for the slayer flashes to start, as they had when she tasted Dracula’s blood. Instead, the visions when they came were anything but depressing.

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Images passed through her mind, flashing through and gone almost before she recognised them, like the books of "moving" pictures you would riffle through as a child. One constant in almost all the images, the look of love in his eyes and in the later ones, the same look in hers.

Slowly, she became aware of a gentle hand stroking her face. Her eyelids fluttered open and he was there above her, that same look in his eyes again.

"I guess you changed your mind about ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ then, pet."

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I see your true colours shining through
True colours and that’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid, to let them show
Your true colours (true colours) are beautiful, like a rainbow.

@--`--,--`--,----

The End