SECTION 2 – ANGEL CITY

I got a buncha boys
We make a lot of noise
Little bit crazy
Playing with chemical toys
We’re such bad ass dudes
I almost can’t stand it myself
I wanna get the c**bs
In my elegant rags
Make my mom and daddy uptight
I wanna be an intellectual
Heterosexual, Angel City tonight.

(Motorhead, Album 1916)

Chapter 2.01

Spike pulled off Buffy’s boots dropping them into the foot-well behind him as he moved over to the other side of the car.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," came the voice on the other end of the line.

Spike picked up the cell-phone from where it rested in Buffy’s lap, moving it to the rear window ledge of the car so that the wire for the hands-free kit was no longer in the way of the buttons down the front of her blouse.

"Didn’t that use to be hopeless, Cordelia?" Buffy watched the pale elegant fingers deftly freeing her breasts of their cotton confinement, as she spoke. She hoped Cordelia hadn’t noticed that her breathing was already quickening and he had yet to touch her flushed skin.

"Buffy? Is that you? And yes." Buffy automatically leaned forward so that when he eased the material over her shoulders it simply drifted down and she had just to lift her hands to be rid if it.

"Tell me you didn’t just let Angel know I’m on the phone… please." Punishing her for using Angel’s name he leant forward and bit down gently on her nearest nipple, gradually increasing jaw pressure until she was just short of moaning her pleasure down the phone to the other woman. Talented fingers alternately stroked and kneaded at her other breast before using a circling motion so light it was almost as if he wasn’t touching her to tease the nipple into a sharp hard peak.

"You’re safe. There’s only me and Groo, who you don’t know, here. So if you don’t want to speak to Angel, I hope it’s me you want because Wes doesn’t work here any more. And if you want to know that story then you’re going to have to talk to tall, dark and broody because explaining what’s happening round here to his ex is not part of my job description.

Neither is guarding a portal from an untold hell dimension so foul the powers that be don’t actually allow portals to go there, but hey, we’ll let that one pass."

Spike rolled the tip between his fingers before he gave a sharp twist, making her gasp in surprise just in time to make it sound as if she were drawing breath to continue as Cordelia finished. "Are you having your calls transferred or something?" ‘Way to go with the inane comments,’ thought Buffy, but then who in their right mind could expect her to think clearly while Spike was doing what he was doing.

"No, no. It’s here, in the hotel lobby. But there’s only been one really big scary demon come through so far and it's dead, so… what’s with the phone call."

Spike’s mouth moved to her other breast, suckling gently this time as if to make up for the earlier pain. His hands moved down to the tops of her jeans. This time before she spoke Buffy wove her fingers through the blond curls in front of her, pulling Spike’s head back so she could meet his gaze. She let her eyes pass on the message that there was only one vampire she was thinking about.

"Okay, how is Angel?"

Spike gently traced along the line of her jeans using one cool finger until her stomach muscles tightened making it easier to deal swiftly with the zip and button holding the stiff fabric in place. He brought one knee up over her body wedging it between her and the seat back so that he straddled her just above her knees. His hands slid round behind her body pushing down the thick denim and flimsy white thong all in one movement and cradling her buttocks as her hips bucked up toward him

"Oh, you know, kinda preoccupied, busy, that long involved story it’s really not my place to tell, let’s just say family business and leave it at that," Cordelia responded with faux brightness.

His hands were already supporting her weight and one quick motion brought Buffy’s pelvis level with his. Her eyes widened in surprise and he smiled his amusement as he nuzzled her neck and ground their pelvises together.

"Okay. I’ve got some personal news that I thought would come better if you two both heard it from me rather than anyone else. You could say it’s family business too."

Spike nibbled, licked and kissed his way down the centre of Buffy’s body as he moved back to his original kneeling position to remove her jeans. The soft silky fabric of his worn coat lining brushed against her legs and back, where he had spread it over the chill, cracked leather of the DeSoto’s back seat. The leather scent from the coat was almost gone after so many years of wear and unless you were a vampire your nose would almost have to touch it to pick up on that element of its scent. It smelled of cigarette smoke, and spicy cologne and just the lightest undertone of bourbon.

"So spill. You finally stake Drusilla or what?" as always Cordelia spoke her mind.

As Spike finished pulling off her jeans, Buffy wriggled her arms into the sleeves of the oversized coat, inhaling the scents that permeated its make-up, conjuring memories of numerous times its perfume had enveloped her at the height of her passion. As he threw her jeans and underwear aside he realised what she had done and was unable to contain a possessive growl.

"I’m engaged."

A beautiful naked woman who had just announced her commitment to him lay in front of him, wearing only his ring and his coat, which reeked of his scent. Her arousal was evident to his sensitive nostrils and he could barely wait to stake his claim to her one more time. Instead he looked straight into her eyes and mouthed the words ‘I. Love. You… I. Want. You… Forever.’

"Congratulations. I’ll be sure to tell Angel when there’s a suitable moment. Is this the army guy or is it a new one?" Cordelia conveyed the message that in her opinion a personal visit or even phone call was unnecessary, just avoiding sounding brusque.

Spike moved Buffy until she was lying on her side resting against the seat back.

"Not the army guy," Buffy said dryly, as Spike moved from his kneeling position between the front and back seats to lie next to her, squirming against her almost naked body to get maximum contact. Holding her tight he rolled onto his back. He wanted to watch his leather-clad angel move above him.

"Too damn right, cheerleader," growled Spike into the microphone that dangled near the hollow of Buffy’s throat.

There was a slight gasp at the other end of the line. "Buffy, that sounded like…"

"When I said it was family business I didn’t just mean my family." Spike’s hands slid under the coat, one tracing patterns on her back with his fingertips. The other stretching over the curve of her bottom so that a fingertip teased her moist entrance as she lay atop him.

"You’re engaged to Spike!"

He worked his way between her outer lips and slid up to his first joint inside of her, easing her drenched muscles ever so slightly looser before bringing the finger to his mouth and sucking it clean. His gaze stayed on her face the whole time, her eyes darkening as she followed his actions.

"Now you see why we’d like to come up there and try to break the news gently. Spike seems to think that as soon as Angel hears he’s going to regress straight back to all the macho vampire dominance crap. So, I figure we might as well come visit and get it all over and done with. Not that there’s anything short of sending Spike home in a dust-buster that he can do to change my mind and if he does that he’ll have one pissed off slayer on his hands."

Buffy sat up slightly, resting her elbows on Spike’s chest as she tackled the buttons on the front of his shirt. Spike moaned low in his throat at the delay. Soon, however her hands slithered down between their bodies, working loose the fastenings on his jeans that were strained even tighter than normal.

"Right now, I’d say he’s a little preoccupied," Cordelia commented in reference to Angel.

Buffy’s hands worked on freeing her lover’s throbbing erection from the denim encasing it.

"Not the only one," muttered Spike.

"This business, I don’t suppose it would be important enough that some extra help might persuade him not to start a fight with Spike?" Buffy tried to see a way around this conflict.

The vampire frowned slightly at the suggestion. It felt wrong that so valuable a prize could ever be his without conflict. Surely Angel would never surrender his claim uncontested. Not unless the Poof had finally got over his feelings for Buffy, but if five hundred years in hell hadn’t made any difference he doubted a couple of years in LA would. Either that or whatever was going on was big with a capital B.

All such thoughts vanished however as Buffy held his dick in her hand nudging his jeans down just far enough to rest his balls in her other.

"I don’t honestly know."

Vampires were supposed to be able to sense family members and identify them by scent. Would the same apply to kin who were conceived rather than made? If so, Spike could be useful if they were still trying to track Connor tomorrow. The question was whether Spike would be able to defend himself if he found the teenager. Willow had long ago filled in Cordelia about Spike’s little trip to the vet’s.

"We’ll take our chances. We’ll come up tomorrow after I finish work. We should get there about nine. I’ll leave it up to you how much you think you should tell him before we get there. It might not come as such a shock to him if you can pave the way a bit. Hope nobody has to take a swan-dive off a tower to shut your portal.

Family emergencies not withstanding it’d be nice to see you again."

"You too, I think, but I’m not so sure about Spike."

Buffy yanked the cable loose from both the phone and her ear throwing it on the back windowsill of the car. Then she folded the phone in half replacing it in the pocket of the leather coat. Aware of Spike’s gaze she took the time to flick the hem of the coat to fan out behind her before bending forward to claim his mouth, making up for lost time on the phone.

Spike’s hands roamed without pattern or reason underneath the supple leather desperate to touch as much of her as possible, to make every inch his and his alone. However, Buffy was moving down his body further out of his reach as she explored his bare chest with her hands and then her mouth, sucking and nibbling each nipple until, like hers, they were almost painfully hard. Her tongue traced a trail almost to his navel before cramped conditions prevented her from moving further down past Spike’s upraised knees. Spike pushed against the car door with his booted feet straightening his legs until he sat with his back against the other door.

Buffy shifted down his body again, parting his legs as far as his jeans would allow using her knees, so she could kneel between them rather than straddling them. With just the tip of her tongue she traced the ridge that ran up the front of his cock, travelling all the way up his length before using her whole tongue to swirl round the top. She took him deep into her mouth, before sliding back up and using her tongue to spread fresh pre-cum mixed with her saliva over the tip once more. She repeated this pattern several times, alternating licking his full length and taking him into her mouth, one hand cupping his balls, gently fondling them until he moaned first at the pleasurable sensation and then begging her to stop, his hands clenched over the seat backs to either side.

"Please… gotta stop… can’t hold it any longer… want to be inside you."

Buffy straightened up moving onto his lap and he swung round in his seat and sat slightly forward. Raising herself up on her knees Buffy used one hand to guide him into her wet vagina, lowering herself onto him a fraction of an inch at a time. Spike repressed the almost overpowering urge to close his eyes and watched her face instead as his thick shaft stretched the muscles of her hot tight core little by little. As she finally reached the end of that first stroke she took his face in both her hands. She watched his eyes and whispered, "I want you. I love you. Forever."

Her words stole the last of his self-control. As he came inside her in a cool white rush, his blue eyes turned to gold and his visage changed to that of the demon. With a growled, "Mine!" his teeth sank into the flesh of her neck, high up above the coat’s collar. He managed to make the bite a clean one resisting the urge to tear at her flesh, but she bore the marks of all his teeth, not just his fangs though most of the marks were shallow. His involuntary movement inside her as he came, and more especially his gentle suckling at his bite and the knowledge he had dropped that last vestige of control brought her to a trembling climax in his arms. As he withdrew his mouth from her neck, her forehead came to rest against his. "Yours… forever," she whispered.

‘Shit!’ thought the vampire. Nevertheless, he nicked his tongue on his fangs so that his blood and hers mingled as he lapped patiently at the wound until the bleeding stopped. ‘How the hell am I going to explain this?’ he thought as he resumed his human form once more.

He held her tight until her trembling finally stopped and then stroked her back through the leather in reassuring circles. As her blood had hit his mouth he had hardened again inside her and the feel of being enveloped in her hot wet grip was intoxicating but before he could even think about satisfaction he had to tackle a rather difficult subject.

"Buffy, do you know what happened there? Do you understand the significance of it."

"You bit me, I assume that means you claimed me and since you said you weren’t going to do that until I was ready to call you husband, I guess that was like a vampire wedding then."

"Not really. I meant to explain all this to you before anything like this happened. For it to be a marriage, you would have to claim me, the same way I’ve claimed you, and I would have to acknowledge your claim over me.

Once the claim is reciprocated, if we were both vampires we would have an empathic link. If we were close enough, unless one of us made a conscious effort to block the link we’d be able to pick up on each other’s emotions. Nothing overpowering, just an awareness of what the other is feeling. Regardless of distance, we’d also know if the other was killed or seriously hurt.

When two vampires bond and one is stronger than the other, then the weaker one’s abilities tend to improve. If a vampire has the ability to reform after being staked, like Drac, the bond isn’t broken when they’re dusted. I don’t know whether that means the bond goes beyond death or not.

It’s rare for a vampire to take a human mate, more often than not the human is turned first, but I think it has happened occasionally. As far as I know, it’s never happened between a vampire and a slayer, but then that’s the sort of thing the Council of Wankers would work very hard to cover up. There’s no way to know what effect there would be if you reciprocated my claim, which is why I intended to see if Giles could dig up anything before we got this far."

The vampire looked into her face making sure she could see the truth of his next words.

"Buffy, I never intended to have this happen as anything other than a mutual thing. I fully intended to let you know all the facts and have you speak to Giles and then come to an informed decision and if you wanted to then I thought we’d do it together.

I definitely expected it to be something a bit more romantic than a quick shag in the back of the car. It’s just when you said what you did, bye-bye self-control. I’m sorry, pet. You can shag me seven ways from Sunday and I’ll happily keep myself in check, but you can’t expect me to be all self-restraint when you take me in to the hilt, look me in the eye, and tell me you love me. Even what I did wouldn’t make a claim if you hadn’t said you were mine.

So, we have several options. We could leave things as they are, but I think that might be a bit unfair on you." Spike blew gently on the healing bite wound on the side of Buffy’s neck. Her reaction tightened both her stomach muscles and also the muscles in her vagina pulling him deeper into her. "As you could probably tell, the bite mark becomes like a sort of super erogenous zone, which is fine when turn about is fair play, but puts you at a disadvantage when I can have you wettin’ your knickers with the slightest touch… Actually that probably does just about make us even ‘cause I get a hard-on pretty much whenever you walk in the room anyway."

Buffy smiled at him. "It’s kinda hard not to notice especially in this position. And who says you weren’t on a level footing before?" Buffy gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.

"We can wait and see what Giles says when he gets back to us, however long that may take. We could even ring him back later tonight and try to catch him before he leaves for work in the morning and tell him what a balls-up I’ve made of things. See if that gets his arse in gear.

Or we say, bugger it. We can’t go back so we might as well go forward and we do this properly, make things mutual now, without waiting to see what Giles has to say. As far as I know there are no adverse side effects, strengths are shared not weaknesses but there aren’t any guarantees. And no matter what Giles finds, in the end it’s going to be an individual case."

She searched his face, trying to find the clues she needed. "You want to do this, don’t you?"

"Buffy, it isn’t my choice. It has to be yours. I want it. It’s a stronger bond even than marriage, but I’m also scared for you. I don’t expect it to work that way, but what if you began to be affected by sunlight? Just because I’ve only ever heard of sharing strengths doesn’t mean there’s not a chance you’d end up with my weaknesses."

"What time is it now in England?" Buffy asked.

"Eight hours later than it is here, somewhere around midnight… and, love, not that you can go, but I think you’re supposed to be starting work about now."

"Wh-what?"

"Your neck, it’s a bit obvious. You’re either going to have to phone in sick or at the very least make some sort of excuse for being late so you can put a bandage on it, cover it up somehow. The barbecue fork excuse is not going to cut it."

"Great. Nice one, Fang Face." Buffy scrambled off his lap none too carefully, and started hunting through her gym bag till she found her make-up case, which held a small compact.

"Hey, I was kinda hoping we’d both have some use for that in the future. Try to leave it attached!" Spike whinged.

Buffy meanwhile tried to angle the mirror to see the extent of the damage, not aided by the dim light in the car’s interior. "Shit. You don’t do anything by halves, do you?"

Spike stuck his hand into the pocket of his coat rummaging around despite Buffy’s protests until he found his cell-phone. Once he had it in his hand he flipped it open and pressed a button. The phone gave a small beep, and Spike held it up to his ear.

"Hell on earth," he spoke into the microphone. A series of different notes followed and then she heard a ring tone, which was finally answered by Lorraine’s voice.

"Double Meat Palace, how can I help?"

"Hello, I’d like to speak to the duty manager, please." Spike’s voice lost all of its normal roughness, becoming a model for well-mannered charm.

"Speaking, this is Lorraine."

"Hi. I’m calling on behalf of my girlfriend, Buffy Summers. I’m afraid she’s not going to be able to make it in today for her shift."

"Oh, will she be okay for the rest of her shifts this week or should I arrange cover?"

"I couldn’t say for sure. She’s been attacked by some sort of animal, and she’s lost some blood, but the bleeding seems to have eased off now. I think she might be going into shock though, so I was just going to take her home, put her to bed and get someone to have a look at her."

Buffy didn’t know, whether to laugh or hit him and steal the phone and try to repair the damage, which was of course impossible anyway.

"Ahhh…" Spike guessed that maybe the manager had picked up on Sunnydale’s brand of animal attacks. "It sounds potentially serious, maybe I should make some provisional arrangements for cover."

"That could be for the best. Buffy’s a very determined girl and she makes up her own mind about these things, but I know I’d be happier if she took some time to recover.

The fact is that Buffy was intending to hand her notice in today, anyway.

You know that she’s her younger sister’s guardian?"

"No, I don’t think I did. It may have been discussed when she originally started work here, but I only recently transferred to this branch."

"Yes, well, the hours and working evenings and weekends have tended to mean she has very little time with her. Let’s just say the situation at home has forced her to consider looking for something more appropriate. With what’s happened today, it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t make it back at all, but as I said before, you can’t predict what she’ll do.

I’m sure she’ll be well enough to speak to you herself tomorrow and let you know whether she’ll be in for the rest of the week."

"Yes, well, thank you for calling, Mr…"

"William, just William’s fine."

"Well, thank you, William. I hope Buffy’s going to be okay."

"I’m sure a day or two in bed will have her feeling a lot better," said Spike with a wicked smirk before he closed the phone.

Chapter 2.02

"You… are… Eee-vil." Buffy punctuated each syllable by poking him in the chest.

Spike shrugged. "I left your options open, didn’t I? It’s up to you if you go in there tomorrow with a bloody huge elastoplast and rely on the Sunnydale denial factor, or whether you come shopping with me for stuff for the flat."

"Ooo. What sort of shopping? …Hey, no fair. How am I supposed to try to be good if you’re deliberately trying to tempt me?"

"Shopping, it is. I need some heavy curtains, bedding, towels, maybe some pictures and stuff, maybe a DVD player. Since anything I buy now is eventually going to end up wherever we live when we’re married, it only makes sense for you to have a say." Spike shifted along the seat nearer to Buffy and let his elbow rest on the back of the chair. He tucked Buffy’s hair behind her ear so that the scar was fully visible. "It’s not that bad really. To judge by the scar Angel’s was a lot messier." He ran a tentative fingertip over the wound and Buffy shivered. "Most of these teeth marks are too shallow to even scar. With your healing, in a month or two all that’ll be left is another set of puncture scars." He tilted his head and moved in to kiss her neck.

Buffy felt as if there were mild electric shocks flowing all through her body, except the feeling wasn’t unpleasant by any stretch of the imagination. She began to think the vampire could probably make her come, in public, fully clothed, just by kissing and touching those scars.

"You’re not playing fair," she protested.

Capturing her hand and pulling it back toward his still open fly, Spike replied, "Neither’s leaving me like this."

"But didn’t you just tell me that you get like that whenever I walk in the room?" Buffy teased even as she moved to straddle his lap once more. "That would make it a bit difficult not to leave you like that."

"Especially if you give out little samples of slayer blood, then it would. Or did you forget about that little detail?"

Buffy rubbed her pelvis up against him and Spike growled in frustration. He slid one hand between the slayer's parted legs, letting his thumb circle her clitoris as two of his fingers pushed inside her.

He resisted the urge to pay further attention to his mark as yet and instead used his other hand to guide one of her perfect breasts to his lips.

His desperation was almost primal and Buffy responded to it, urging him with her actions to take things harder and faster, pushing down on him as he thrust in with two then three fingers. Buffy saw rainbow lights spiral against a sea of black as she slumped against him, temporarily replete.

Spike’s hands moved to grasp her hips and he positioned her over his painfully engorged member before pulling her down onto him in one swift movement that brought her eyes wide open once more

"God, Spike, you feel so good." She began to push herself up and down around him. "Never knew how good it could be till you." She wasn’t telling him any more than he’d already worked out but it did his ego good when she said these things. His hands helped support her hips taking some of the weight from her knees and helping her slam home on the down-stroke for maximum penetration.

As her speed began to build he nuzzled against his mark, nipping at the area with blunt teeth and licking at the newly formed scabs, but careful not to reopen the wound. Even so, it was enough. Her inner muscles spasmed wildly around him as if trying to draw him deeper into her. At that signal he stopped holding back his own release and with her last few movements he soothed the raging heat within her by spilling his cool seed.

He pulled her in close against his chest and hooked his chin over her shoulder. He couldn’t put into words how he felt right then and there wasn’t space or time to spoon together till they fell asleep, so he just held her close against his chest and hoped that she would know. Minutes passed in comfortable silence before she moved to ease the growing ache in her hips, so maybe she did.

"So now you’ve corrupted me into playing truant from work, what did you have planned for the rest of the evening?"

"Well, I thought I might drop you off at home and then head back to the crypt for a wash and a change before I go food shopping. Then, I’d come back to your place to cook and then we could maybe patrol or watch a video with the Niblet and then patrol. How does that sound?"

"Better plan. You drive me over to your place or as near as you can, I fetch you a couple of changes of clothes and then we both go back to my place for you to get cleaned up. Dawn and I can go to Blockbuster while you do the food shopping. Cook, eat, video and patrol, assuming Dawn hasn’t made other plans."

"As you wish, love, as you wish."

"Out, slayer." The vampire encouraged his fiancée to leave the kitchen.

"I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help," pouted the chosen one.

"You just wanted to find out what I was cooking, and I’ve heard enough from Dawn to know I don’t want your help. Not this time anyway. If the table’s set, go on through to the living room, find something educational on the idiot box and make Bit watch it."

"I could do the washing-up, clean up as you go along."

"What’s Bit doing? Thought you were meant to spend time with her."

"Calculus." Buffy said the word with the same tone of disgust she might have reserved for gonorrhoea.

"’Nough said. There’s some stuff in the sink already. Get to it wench."

Buffy moved over to the sink and added washing-up liquid and hot water to the few dirty utensils and the couple of chopping boards that were in the sink. She watched as Spike lifted the wok from the hob taking it over to the island where he had a trivet waiting to rest it on. He clicked the door shut on the microwave and dribbled some oil into a large flat rectangular oven-proof dish and tilted the dish until the oil coated the base of the dish and part of the sides. The microwave dinged and he pulled out a plate piled high with tortillas, which he used to wrap the contents of the wok into long thin parcels, arranging them in the bottom of the dish. He poured a jar of sauce over the top, covered the whole lot with grated cheese and slammed the dish into the oven.

Spike carried over the now empty wok and the plates he’d used for the cheese and the tortillas to the sink, dumping the empty jar in the bin on his way. Everything looked so organised. She’d expected the place to look like a bomb-site. Not to mention the efficient, graceful way he moved was damn sexy, even if this time he did have a shirt on. Maybe once she’d finished college she could make enough money to pay Spike to work as her own personal topless chef.

He slid his arms around her waist and rested his cheek against hers. "Can you do that big choppin’ board first, love? Need it to do the salad."

Once she’d obligingly wiped down the item in question he pulled a tea-towel from it’s place dried it off and got to work chopping various vegetables he pulled from the now full fridge, throwing the bits into a large salad bowl as he went. Some olive oil went into a small jug along with what looked like lime-juice that was already in it and some finely chopped bits he pulled from the new tubs of fresh herbs that now adorned the window sills. Once he’d whisked it up with a fork, this went over the top of the salad and the whole lot was thoroughly mixed up, serving utensils added and the bowl went through to the dining room. Four beers, already opened and topped with wedges of lime were pulled from the fridge and carried through.

Buffy had barely done any of the washing-up and rushed to try to make her contribution look presentable.

"Had enough of me hangin’ round underfoot yet?" asked the vampire as he poured a glass of orange juice and tipped some blood from a polystyrene container into a mug before sticking said mug in the microwave and replacing the unused liquids back in the fridge.

"Hey, if you’d told me you were the undead’s answer to Martha Stewart, you could have been round here every night long ago."

"So you’re only marrying me so you can have an unpaid kitchen maid?" Spike smirked.

"Well, there’s that, and your money, and of course I also get an unpaid sex slave and babysitter. The fact I kinda like you is just a bonus." The slayer piled more washing up onto the drying rack, and Spike waded in with a tea-towel putting things away as he finished drying them, at least until his blood was ready.

The self-proclaimed slayer of slayers leant back against the counter, sipping his blood and watching his slayer’s rear view as she finished washing the last few remaining dishes and wondered what he could ever have done that meant he deserved to be here.

She turned as she finished, leaving the dishes on the rack to drain naturally. "How long before the enchiladas are ready?"

Spike looked at the kitchen clock. "Between five and ten minutes. Just long enough for me to get your pressies from the car, now it’s dark." He ducked out the back door before Buffy could ask anything else and came back in with one large flat box a largish floppy parcel and a carrier bag from a large department store.

He dropped the carrier bag behind his legs and passed her the other two.

"Big one first or bigger one."

"I’d open the parcel before the box."

Buffy started to rip open the parcel, quickly discovering that whatever was in the parcel was made of black satin. Envisioning sexy lingerie she pulled half the contents of the parcel out through the hole she’d made in the wrapping.

"Men’s pyjama tops?" she asked with a wry smile, holding it up against herself. Spike noted happily that it fell an inch or two short of mid-thigh.

"Waste not, want not." Spike nudged the carrier bag he’d dropped on the floor with a boot. "Figured with Bit and Red and Glinda around my normal sleep attire might not be appropriate."

"So I get the tops and you get the bottoms."

Spike nodded. "That other one’s by way of reparations, but I just couldn’t bring myself to buy a duffle coat, let alone a yellow one so you’ll have to make do."

Buffy tore into the wrapping paper as if there was an extra prize if she opened it in under two seconds. She barely took time to register the store name on the box before she threw the lid to one side closely followed by several sheets of tissue. She literally jumped up and down as she pulled the black leather coat from the box.

"Should be a bit harder to get grass stains on that, d’you think?"

The coat billowed as she swung it round to put it on. The leather was thick, heavy and obviously intended to be hard-wearing unlike most of the coats and jackets she bought, none of which seemed to last a week on patrol. Even so, the leather draped in soft lines instead of hanging stiffly. It had a long split at the back so that it moved freely round her legs, and she danced around the kitchen and living room turning this way and that and watching the coat fan out behind her.

Rushing back over to where Spike stood watching her obvious delight, she threw her arms about his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"I love it, but this is the last of the his and hers clothing, isn’t it? I can’t see myself in Doc Martens however practical they may be."

"Don’t knock ‘em till you try ‘em, pet. They’d be a damn sight comfier and last a damn sight longer than most of the ones you complain about ruining in sewers and on patrol, even if they don’t fall into your ‘stylish yet affordable’ category."

Tilting his head slightly Spike leant in to claim a kiss from her conveniently placed lips and Buffy responded whole-heartedly.

Pulling his head back, he smiled wryly. "If I didn’t know better I would say you got me all worked up deliberately, so that I could be uncomfortable all the way through dinner, which should be ready now, so tidy up your mess and I’ll give the others a shout and take the stuff through." So saying, he turned the oven off and took the rest of his mug of blood and Dawn’s orange juice through, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to shout, "Food’s ready!" and then returning to the kitchen for the enchiladas. Buffy meanwhile had moved everything Spike had brought in from the car except the coat, which she was still wearing, into a small pile at one end of the sofa.

Soon several pairs of feet were heard making their way downstairs and a companionable meal was enjoyed by all. Spike didn’t eat all that much. Nutritionally speaking the food did nothing for him, but he was pleased to see Buffy and Dawn tucking in. Given half a chance he’d get the slayer back to a proper weight in no time. Especially when she found out there was ice-cream for dessert. Willow and Spike must have spent about half the meal discussing his new PC. He basically wanted to use it to rip-off copies of all the stuff he’d lost on album, so that he could burn them to disc as mp3 files and play them either through the PC or on his yet to be bought DVD player. Other than that he’d thought about getting a web-cam and trying to force Giles into the age of video-conferencing, though that, Willow guessed was more for Buffy and Dawn’s benefit than his own. Likewise, he’d asked for word-processing and spreadsheet capabilities, but when Willow asked if there was anything specific he wanted to be able to do, he admitted he’d been thinking about Buffy and Dawn’s school and college assignments.

Buffy was surprised to find that despite living in a crypt for the last three years, Spike was more up to date with current technology than she was. She also noticed that even though she’d once asserted that Spike didn’t play well with others, he’d fitted in just fine. The more she thought about it, the more she realised, Spike played fine with others, except for males who had some sort of interest in her, or when said males forced their women to pick sides. Of course she’d kinda missed this before because the two of them spent so much time arguing for totally different reasons. Maybe, now that Giles wasn’t around, fifty percent of the problem was that Xander didn’t play well with Spike.

When Spike started hurling abuse at the TV, Buffy thought maybe the house video night wasn’t such a good idea after all. However, having recovered from the idea of the crowd at a medieval joust doing a "Band Aid" to "We Will Rock You" he seemed to settle in to enjoy the rest of the film. If he was a little vocal in his encouragement for the film’s characters it was more endearing than annoying. In fact it gave all four women the chance to tease the former Big Bad mercilessly. Buffy was even almost tempted to have him around when the soccer World Cup was on just to see how excited he could get. Maybe by then he would be around anyway.

Patrol was routine in the nicest possible way. There were enough vampires on the prowl to give both Buffy and Spike a bit of a work out, even if Spike did more watching than fighting. Buffy realised how much she’d missed knowing that someone had her back. Most of the time she neither needed nor wanted anyone’s help. Spike was the only person she patrolled with who stayed out of her way and let her do her thing but would back her up a hundred percent when he was needed. Actually since her return from the grave, Spike was the only person she patrolled with. And okay, so he let her fight her own battles because watching her fight was one of the ways he got his rocks off. Which was kinda skanky, or it would be if she wasn’t seeing him. But since she was, in a creepy sort of way it was kinda cool.

Now all the "need to talk" issues were out of the way, they were back to not needing to talk. Not that Spike was silent man; that was never going to happen, but there were large chunks of time where they were okay just being together. That was also of the good. Buffy thought they had lost that easiness between them after their first kiss, or at least after her reaction to it. Yet, as soon as she… as soon she what? …as soon as she admitted to having feelings for him, went on a date, took him home and shagged him senseless or vice versa, got engaged the next morning and let him claim her before the day was out. Yeah, just a few minor adjustments and all of a sudden the friendly comfortable silences are back.

Towards the end of the circuit of the graveyard Spike moved to the leeward side of a tree, sheltering the flame from his Zippo slightly as he lit another menthol cigarette. Sliding down against the side of the tree he almost whispered the gentle request. "C’mere, love." Buffy settled herself between his outstretched legs, leaning back against his chest as his free hand slid around her waist. The scene felt familiar to her and yet not. Then she identified the feeling of déjà vu. Last time the earth over the nearby grave had been freshly turned and bare and the vampire had been Angel on his last and possibly his last ever visit to Sunnydale.

Spike had steered them to her mother’s grave. She tilted her head back to give him a questioning look. Spike shrugged in response.

"Day like today, wouldn’t seem right ‘thout sharin’ it with her, sayin’ thank you."

"So you think she can see us… hear us?" Buffy asked.

"I’d like to think so, though not all the time, I hope. You tell me. Do you think she knows?"

"I don’t know. I remember that I knew everyone was okay, but I don’t know if I ever knew the details of what was going on in people’s lives, or if I just can’t remember. It’s like the whole thing is getting hazier the longer I’m back," admitted the revenant.

"I like to think that she knows when you’re thinking about her, or those sort of moments where you think, I wish she could have been here to see this, but at the same time I feel closer to her here somehow."

"Me too." Buffy let her head rest side by side with his, her cheek against his jaw, and she placed both her hands over his right on her waist. There were things she might have said aloud if Spike hadn’t been there. Instead, they ran through her head as a sort of silent prayer, which she hoped would somehow reach her mother. At her back, the vampire did much the same, only his messages were for a woman who had died more than a century before in a far away land as well as for Joyce.

When Spike lit a second cigarette, Buffy took it as a cue that he was ready to leave if she was. With a last goodbye, she levered herself into an upright position and offered a helping hand to Spike. "Come on. Time to make that phone call you were so looking forward to."

"Sure I can’t just head home and let you take care of that?" Spike joked.

"Totally sure you can’t head home and leave me to take care of it, Fang Boy" Buffy confirmed. "You’re the one who made with the teeth. You get to talk to the nice watcher."

Tuesday Early hours of the morning

"Hey, Giles." Buffy opened the conversation.

"Buffy? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again so soon. Is everything okay? You haven’t decided that there’s no need for my services after all?" It was evident that Giles hadn’t indulged in his morning dose of caffeine as yet.

"The wedding’s still going ahead, but Spike needs to talk to you." Buffy passed the phone over to the vampire.

"Watcher," Spike started. "There’s been a development since we spoke to you last. You know what I said this afternoon about fang marks… It no longer applies."

"Of all stupid irresponsible arrogant things to do. Do you have any idea–"

"Yes, Rupert. I know exactly how bad this looks. I have no intention of using this to undue advantage. What can I say? I lost control and I claimed her. She accepted the claim without realising what she was doing. All things being equal, if we didn’t have to worry about the whole human, slayer thing then Buffy would claim me and that would be it, but we need to know that she won’t take on my weaknesses. We need…" Spike’s voice failed.

Buffy took the phone back from him. "Giles, it’s me again. I know you want to lecture both of us and tell us how juvenile we’ve been and how you’re disappointed, but we can’t turn the clock back and this is a premium rate phone call. What we have to know is what do we do now?

Giles, soon is good. Please."

"Buffy, I will try to get back to you as soon as possible, but you really mustn’t do anything until you hear back from me."

"Giles, we know. But we really didn’t intend for anything to happen the last time."

"Perhaps you should… em, avoid each other until I can finish my research."

"Not an option. Or at least not one that I’m about to consider." Buffy made it clear.

"In that case, just, please be careful."

"We’ll do our best. Speak to you soon."

"I’ll be in touch," the watcher promised before hanging up the phone.

Chapter 2.03

Tuesday Morning

Cordy could hear the heavy sounds of Angel’s hands impacting with the punching bag before she reached the room. She spoke as she went in, trying to distract the champion from his obvious brooding.

"Hey— I guess Fred is working on a way to determine if anything else came out of the portal."

Angel steadied the bag but still didn’t turn to face the seer.

"That’s good." His reply was terse.

"So maybe if we’re very, very lucky, later today we’ll be able to kill something. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?"

"Sure."

Cordy took a few seconds to debate her options before deciding to continue. "You had a phone call while you were out last night."

"Yeah." Angel’s tone implied that he really didn’t care.

"Buffy."

Angel continued to work on the punch-bag in silence, so Cordy pressed on.

"She said she wanted to see you." Angel steadied the punch-bag, looking at Cordy for the first time.

"I did say that now might not be the best time, that you were busy dealing with some family business."

"She’s coming anyway, isn’t she?"

Cordy nodded. "Tonight when she finishes work. She offered to help. Not that it seems like there’ll be much for them to help with."

"Them?" asked Angel.

"Yeah, well, you’re not going to like this part. Spike is her chauffeur for the night."

The punch-bag swung wildly as Angel’s fist connected with enough force to split a knuckle or two.

"Does she know what happ

ened the last time he was here?"

Cordy shrugged. "I don’t know and I think that even if she does, she’s hoping the two of you can put aside your differences, since she seemed to be volunteering his help as well."

Angel swung several more meaty punches at the bag so that the chains juddered, but still didn’t comment.

"Maybe she’s right. It seems from what I’ve heard from Willow that he’s made a fresh start this last year or so. He’s been helping them out for ages, for nothing, which is more than can be said for any of us. Seems like he played a big part in looking after Dawn when Buffy died. Him and the kid apparently dote on one another. I heard he nearly got himself tortured to death trying to keep her safe."

"Cordy, whatever front he may put on for public consumption, I know what Spike is. Spike is a ruthless killer with no feelings for anyone but himself and Dru and his feelings for Dru are just because it’s in his blood."

"I think you may be wrong. From what I’ve heard not all of the Sunnydale crowd like him. Especially not Xander but then I don’t recall Xander liking you either, but I think they would all say he’s been useful.

It might be an idea if you spoke to Giles before they come. Get an unbiased opinion.

You either use this as an opportunity to reconnect with him, and give him the same benefit of the doubt that you want Connor to give you – or you start all "the macho vampire dominance crap" as Buffy put it and you’ll probably never see him again. He’s your family, it’s up to you."

"Look, Cordy." Angel tried to spell things out for his colleague. "Spike is not coming here to win friends and influence people. He’s a ruthless, psychotic killing machine and I know because I’m the one who moulded him. I beat every last bit of finer feeling out of him. Even if he can’t hurt humans that still leaves you, Lorne, me and potentially Connor vulnerable to him. He’s planning something. I don’t know what, but whatever it is, it won’t be a game of Happy Families."

"Angel. I get the message. You don’t trust Spike. Buffy does though. She wouldn’t be bringing him otherwise. I got the impression that if there’s any trouble she thinks you’ll be the one to start it. She trusts him not to start anything. Buffy’s not a schoolgirl any more. She’s a grown woman and she’s seen a lot more of him for the last couple of years than you have. If she trusts him enough to put him in charge of her family’s safety and she trusts him to bring her here without starting trouble then why shouldn’t you."

"You just don’t get it, Cordy. Spike and I have a history, very little of it good. I took pleasure in his pain. I forced him to submit to my domination. He’s never been his own man. Even when I left, after I got my soul, he was forced to spend the next century trying to live up to the legacy I left behind. Then I come back and humiliate him again while he’s stuck in a wheelchair unable to fight back. Spike hates me. I spent years, decades doing everything I could to make sure that he hated me. He hates me for how I treated him when we were all together and he hates me for leaving. He hates me most because he’s had to live in my shadow. He loved Dru for over a century. He was the one who nursed her, looked after her, but I just had to look her way once after the best part of a hundred years and she left him for me.

These aren’t things that could be forgiven. Even if he had a soul it would be nearly impossible. He hasn’t, all he has is a demon thirsting for vengeance.

Tell me now that you think he wouldn’t cause trouble, that once he knows Connor exists and what he means to me that he will be safe."

Cordy tried again to pacify him. "You said he hates you for leaving. That tends to imply that he wanted you to stay."

"You couldn’t understand. He’s family. There’s all sorts of things in the mix but the bulk of what he feels is hatred and a need to prove himself."

"Okay, Angel, I say again speak to Giles, but you just said it yourself, he’s family, and all this irredeemable crap is exactly what Connor says about you. It seems to me that if you want the benefit of the doubt, you should be prepared to give it to someone else now and again.

When all’s said and done you can always hit him back, if he hits you first, not to mention the fact that Gunn and Fred could take him out if they had to and he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.

Or of course, if you want Buffy to think you’re a huge loser who doesn’t trust her judgement you could attack him the minute he arrives.

You have till around nine this evening to think about it.

And about Connor, you’re doing the right thing."

The thump, thump, thump of Angel’s fists on the punch-bag ceased leaving only the sound of the bag swinging on its chains, but Angel refused to look her in the eye. Cordy turned to go.

"What if he doesn’t come back?" Angel’s voice stalled her on her way out and she turned back to him, their eyes meeting. "He feels further away from me now than when he was first taken. All that time I don’t think I ever really believed that I’d lost him – not really. Then he shows up again and I knew I had."

"It’s only temporary," the seer assured him.

"Yeah. Everything’s temporary. There’s just so much I thought we’d be able to do together before he, you know…"

"Grew up?"

"Hated me."

"Angel, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t even know you. – But he will. He’s gonna come back, Angel."

"How do you know?

"Because – he has to. Because he’s family."

Buffy had spoken to Lorraine that morning on the telephone. She’d taken the easy way out and explained that she was still feeling a bit weak. She was up and about, but didn’t feel she would be able to return to work as she was still shaky, emotionally and physically after the attack, so much so that she would prefer to be accompanied when she was out and about. She had promised to drop off her uniform or get "William" to drop it off later in the week. Then the pair of them had dropped by The Magic Box to pick up a set of keys from Anya so that Buffy could get a first hand look round the flat and take some quick curtain measurements before they went shopping.

Spike once again thanked the modern propensity for large malls with few points of egress and a preference for shelf-space over natural light which made vampire shopping far simpler than in the past. Once he had made it through to the dingy multi-storey parking lot attached to the mall he didn’t have to worry about sunlight unless he passed near one of the four main entrances.

He had decided on the largest possible quilt size and a deep violet silk quilt cover. He had wanted black sheets and pillowcases to contrast with the cover. Buffy had wanted lilac. When Spike refused to buy "poofy" sheets it had emerged that his previous pink bedding had in fact been left behind by Harmony when she moved out. Buffy had decided that demon eggs aside, letting her unknowingly use Harmony’s sheets was reason enough for blowing up his crypt. They finally compromised on a silvery grey.

Spike had insisted they drop off the bulky purchases and have a coffee before they started looking for curtains.

"Pet, have you thought any about where we’re going to live when we’re married?"

"Well, no. I just assumed you’d move into the house."

"And share your room?"

"Well, yeah— Oh, I see what you mean. It’s going to be a bit small isn’t it? But Willow’s in mom’s room…"

"Okay, pet. As far as I can see it there are three options assuming the wiccas are back as a unit. Option the first. Red moves out of your place and in with Glinda, which means the easiest thing is for us to take your mum’s room.

Option the second. Pixie moves back in to your place. This leaves us a bit short on space, but maybe if the stuff that’s in the basement would fit in your room, we could convert the basement into a bedroom. Maybe get someone to put up some drywall to section off the laundry area so the rest of them can use it without disturbing us. We could probably even get them to fit an extra bathroom, maybe some sound-proofing.

Option the third, we look for another place. Either for the three of us or the five of us."

"I thought you were supposed to be quitting with the surprises."

"I did. That’s why I didn’t mention this yesterday. It’s something you and Dawn need to discuss with the witches. Whatever way it goes I’ll be happy. We’ll either have a bit of extra privacy or we’ll have Glinda around which’ll make me happier about leavin’ Bit when we patrol."

"We don’t need to make a decision right this minute though, do we?"

"Well, if you think we’re likely to end up in your mum’s old room we’re going to need a lot more curtains to match the bedding than otherwise."

Buffy just sighed and decided to concentrate on her cappuccino.

The rest of the morning and the early afternoon passed with lots of good-natured bickering and not a few sets of puppy-dog eyes on either side before they finally admitted that they weren’t going to be able to fit anything else into the car. Back at the flat Buffy got to unpack all the goodies from the car, stacking them to one side until Anya removed all her stuff and Spike could officially move in, hopefully when they came back from LA.

Spike grabbed a few minutes sleep in the passenger seat on the shady side of the car. He wasn’t going to start complaining, but sleeping on a stone sarcophagus after a night in Buffy’s arms had resulted in him getting about the same amount of sleep for far less pleasant reasons. He could have gone up with her, but unlike earlier he had been unable to park the car in the early morning shade of the building and reach the entry hall uncovered. He didn’t want the occupants of the other flats to see him running around under a blanket before he’d even moved in. Let their suspicions remain unaroused as long as possible. Besides, what’s the point in having a girlfriend with super-strength if you don’t let her use it now and then?

The sound of a car horn awoke Spike as Buffy cut-up the driver of a large white van, having belatedly realised that she was in the wrong lane.

"Bloody hell, woman. What on earth are you playing at?"

"Just trying to get in the right lane."

"No. Why the hell are you driving? I was supposed to drive. Remember?"

"You looked all cute and sleepy and I didn’t want to disturb you."

"How often do I have to tell you not to use the "C" word, bint?" Spike was startled to realise they were almost at their destination. He had obviously been more tired than even he had realised. It wasn’t even worth getting her to pull off the freeway at this stage so that he could take over, so he confined himself to giving directions and advising her as to when to change lane.

They had decided it would be better if they booked somewhere other than the Hyperion to stay whilst they were in town since Spike was none too sure of his welcome. Even if his meeting with Angel didn’t result in an all-out bloodbath, it was hardly likely that his grand-sire would tolerate the noise from a room they might share. Not to mention the fact that having her ex with whom she’d spent one relatively innocent night listen to her and Spike’s antics wasn’t Buffy’s idea of fun either.

Spike directed her toward a motel he had used before, neither too close nor too far from Angel’s hotel. The room doors faced north and parking for each room was directly in front. The rooms were large with separate sitting, sleeping and food prep areas. They were well kept and Spike knew that Buffy would be pleased to find that patio doors on the south side of the room block opened onto a pleasant pool area. He’d got Dawn to fetch a bikini for Buffy when he first came over that morning and it was now sitting in the bottom of one of his duster pockets.

Passing Buffy a bundle of notes from his now almost depleted supply, Spike sent her to book the room. He slid over into the driver’s seat. By some miracle they and his car seemed to have survived the two-hour trip, but that didn’t mean he trusted Buffy’s parallel parking.

Without him having said anything Buffy came back over to the passenger side after her trip to the office.

"Room eight. Check out is ten thirty, assuming we don’t need to stay longer."

"See what you feel like tomorrow, pet. Not like you have to go to work, and I dare say LA has more choice in the way of say… expensive white dresses than Sunnydale."

Spike drove over to park in front of the assigned room and climbed out of the car, grabbing their one case and the cooler from the trunk and waiting for Buffy to open the room door. Looking at the small case in his hand, he asked, "did you actually pack anything for me or is this all yours?"

Buffy scowled in return. "You’ve got the bag of toiletries you left at mine the other night, some socks, a pair of jeans, two spare shirts and a spare T-shirt."

"Bet you didn’t pack my trunks."

"You bet right, but since you didn’t mention there was a pool so that I knew to bring mine, you’ve only got yourself to blame. And I bet you don’t even own a pair of trunks."

"Okay, so maybe they’re really an old pair of jeans that I cut the legs off of when the knees got ripped but they do the job, and it’s hardly fair for you to complain…" Spike pulled four triangles of material with a few ties from his pocket. "Especially when I got Dawn to find this for you."

Buffy slid her arms around him under the coat, thanking him without words. Spike leant down and kissed her softly on the tip of her nose.

"Go on, love. Go enjoy yourself. We’ve got a couple of hours yet before sundown. There probably is a nice shady entrance somewhere to Angel’s place, but since we’re going in the front way I reckon he can wait till dusk. Running in and trying to stamp out the flames from a burning blanket isn’t the sort of entrance I want to make. I’ll grab another forty winks, or I might just lie here and watch to make sure you don’t attract any unwelcome attention. We can order pizza or something when you’re done."

"No, it’s okay. I’d feel guilty going swimming while you were stuck in here."

"Pet, there’s only one of us is a vampire. And if you don’t think I’d enjoy watching that gorgeous body of yours swimming up and down, all wet and nubile in that tiny little bikini then you don’t know me very well. And I can watch fine from here as long as I stay in the front half of the room." Spike grabbed a couple of pillows and dropped them at the foot of the bed. Buffy realised that lying with his head at that end, he would be able to see the pool, or at least part of it. She remained undecided, her gaze flicking back and forth between the bikini which now lay on the bed, the pool and Spike, as he unhurriedly stripped off his duster, followed by his boots and socks, his shirt and his T-shirt. Finally he loosened the button on his jeans so that they rode on his hips and let himself flop onto the bed.

"Is that as much of a show as I get? I thought the ring would entitle me to the full package."

"You’re always entitled to the full package. The bitty people in the pool there aren’t."

Buffy pulled shut the curtains screening off the patio doors and then for good measure she closed the ones at the front of the room as well.

"Swimming can wait until later. Till we can go together, when all the sensible people are in bed asleep. For just now why don’t we both get a couple of hours sleep. Who knows what we’re going to be getting ourselves into later?"

Buffy stripped off layers of clothing until she was left in a camisole top and a thong. She climbed onto the bed alongside him, squeezing her shoulder in between his arm and his body so she could use his chest for a pillow. Her top arm draped over his waist and her leg hooked over his nearest one, her foot resting between his shins. His hand came up unable to resist the urge to stroke the gold streaked hair of the girl beside him and soon the soothing motion caused her to drift off.

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