Chapter 2.07

"You sure?" Spike asked.

"Yeah. The point of this trip is that things end up settled between us all. Your little Q & A session might have him on hold for a bit, but I think I should talk to him one on one before we leave. If I can make him understand how we feel, he might be able to accept it."

"Back to the hotel it is then. No swimming for Spike, yet."

Wes’s flat wasn’t far from the hotel and Buffy could see it in the distance when Spike hung a sudden right down an alley and then another at the other end taking them back the way they had come. A few blocks further up he took another right and pulled to a stop near where the alley came out onto the larger road.

"Detour?" asked Buffy.

"Nope, Poof passed us back there. He’s nearby somewhere. Guess the Princess had another vision."

Spike popped the trunk and pulled an axe and a crossbow from the bag. Throwing the crossbow to Buffy, who by this time had joined him he headed for the corner of the block at a jog. On the opposite side of a junction he saw Angel head for one of the rooms on the upper level of a two-storey motel. Dodging the traffic, the pair saw him enter one of the rooms and close the door. As they neared the motel Spike slowed and moved stealthily up the stairs.

"Pet, this isn’t a vision thing. This is personal. This is the guy that took the kid."

"So what do we do?"

"We make sure we’re somewhere he won’t see us if he comes out, hope he’s too distracted to sense us and hang around until we’re sure he’s not going to do anything stupid like kill the guy the kid calls Dad."

Spike made sure they were a couple of rooms along from the room Angel had gone into and then gave Buffy a boost so that she could climb onto the flat roof before climbing up himself. The two cautiously moved along the roof until they were above the correct room.

Almost as soon as they were in position the room door opened and Angel paused in the doorway. At first Spike thought his grandsire had sensed them but when the old man finished speaking the vampire left. They waited until they saw him get in his car and drive off toward the coast.

"Let’s go," Buffy prompted.

"No rush, pet. Peaches hasn’t gone back to the hotel. Everybody that doesn’t live there has probably done a bunk for the night and if they’re not vampires chances are they’ve turned in. We could go back to the motel…"

"And that would end with me speaking to Angel when?"

Spike gave her a sultry smile. "Later? …Tomorrow? …Sometime? …Maybe Never?" He stepped in and stroked her cheek with his thumb, before he lowered his lips to meet hers. Their touch was gentle, brushing lightly against hers and making her lips tingle. When she didn’t resist he increased the pressure on her lips, their mouths opening simultaneously as if at some subconscious signal. Their weapons slid unnoticed from their hands to lie at their feet and Buffy’s arms looped around his neck. Spike’s hand cupped the side of her face, his fingers tangled in her hair. His other hand slid under her coat and pressed on the small of her back to draw her toward him.

Buffy moaned into his mouth, the muffled sound spurring the vampire’s ardour further. His tongue extended into her mouth slowly exploring and tasting her, memorising every sensation. Reluctantly he pulled back to let her breathe. He looked down into her hazel eyes, her pupils wide with desire.

"I love you, Buffy Summers and I want you, I’ll always want you, even if I get to be with you for seventy years and your hair turns white and your face is lined and maybe things get to be not quite so firm. All I’ll need to do is look into your eyes and you’ll still be beautiful to me. Everything I fell in love with is there in your eyes, your strength, your love, your compassion… You’re laughing at me."

"Sorry!" Buffy covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. "It’s really sweet… it’s just I’ve got this picture of this little white-haired lady, lying in a bed in an old folks home with an oxygen mask and your perfect white butt bobbing up and down…"

The romantic mood was totally lost. "Hah! See that’s where you’ve got it totally wrong, see ‘cause by the time you’re that old, pet, you’re going to have to go on top. Otherwise I might just end up pounding those brittle bones of yours into powder. And as if I’d let anyone else take care of you. Old folks home indeed. Only way I’d be screwin’ you in an old folks home was if I was tryin to upset Harris doin’ it in his bed, providin’ he hadn’t pissed in it first."

Buffy slapped his arm, now finding it even harder to control her laughter. Spike pulled a cigarette from his pack but paused just before he lit it, raising a finger to his lips. Footsteps clattered up the metal stairway to the upper floor and the couple recognised the woman they had rescued earlier in the bar though now she wore a biker’s jacket on top of the light coloured top she’d worn earlier. She moved straight to the door directly below them and before she could knock the door opened. The old man took one last look around the room and then followed the woman down the steps and around the corner toward the alley, coughing and wheezing as if merely catching his breath was a hardship.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Spike lit his neglected cigarette. "Now, see, if a woman like that can be with a bloke like him, who says I can’t be with you when you’re old and wrinkly?" Spike lodged his cigarette between his lips and used both his hands to tickle her sides. In retaliation Buffy pulled the cigarette from his lips holding it away behind her back, which aside from keeping it out of his reach meant that his chest rubbed against her taut breasts as he tried to get it back.

It was Buffy who heard the footsteps this time. Looking down she saw Angel’s son running toward them at superhuman speed, down the middle of the busy road.

"Two minutes too late," she said, her voice filled with sorrow at his loss.

Stephen came running up the stairs, and less than a second later they heard the room door slam open and the boy’s anguished cries, before he started back down the stairs again.

Suddenly Spike swore and snatched the axe from where it lay on the roof before dropping off the edge. He shouted one word as she heard his boots thump a rapid tattoo to the far end of the walkway.

"Blood!" Buffy grabbed the crossbow and made for the stairs. She reached the edge of the roof just in time to see Spike leap onto and off of the railing at the end of the balcony nearest the alley in one motion. For a second she was transfixed by the grace with which he moved, before she sped to catch him up.

Spike was too late. The boy was there first, already helping the woman to hold the old man. He strained to hear a third heartbeat from the group but there was only the boy’s and the woman’s.

Spike pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack and readied the lighter as he listened to the woman’s words, forced out between her sobs.

"This didn’t have to happen. Your father was gonna leave. He just wanted to talk to Angelus."

Spike flicked open the lighter with a loud click, letting the flame illuminate the planes of his face for a second before he walked out of the shadows. He gave a slow hand-clap the scene reminiscent of the first night he saw Buffy.

"They should put you up for an Oscar, pet. The grief’s very convincing considerin’ you’re probably the bitch that killed him." Spike swaggered closer all the time. He was close enough to see the wounds on the old man’s neck as Buffy came barrelling round the corner, stalling as she took in the scene before her.

"Shut up, demon. Your kind has no right to even speak about my father."

Spike continued, as if Stephen hadn’t opened his mouth. "Sloppy job on killin’ him though. You were really countin’ on the kid never havin’ seen a vampire bite before. A killing wound would almost never just be two holes, a killing wound would look a lot more like what I did to Angel tonight. The one on Buffy’s neck is just a love-bite but you can still see the imprint of all my teeth."

He watched the kid’s eyes travel from the bite on Buffy’s neck, to the puncture marks on the old man’s body. Buffy moved closer angling her neck so the mark was plain to see.

"I got a little bit carried away, but it’s still a lot less messy than you would get from a bite made during an attack because she wasn’t struggling. The only time you’ll see a two-hole bite is when a vamp is co-operating with someone who wants an unobtrusive wound. Like the whores who’ll bite people who get off on it for money and are prepared to make the feeding last a long time. Even then you wouldn’t see what you’ve got there. The holes should be perpendicular to his collar not parallel to it. See where the fang marks are on Buffy’s neck and how they relate to how a vamp would tilt his head to bite."

By now Buffy was almost level with the group and Spike walked round behind her and leant over her shoulder, mouth wide, to cover the scars as a demonstration.

"It’s physiologically impossible to bite at an angle that would give you marks like those. And they’re too far apart and too small a diameter."

Spike moved round to Buffy’s side again and drew deeply on his cigarette.

"Now I reckon, since the kid’s biological parents were both fairly bright even if his mother did have one of the most irritating voices on the planet, that the kid has been following my argument. Besides Angel was in his car and gone a good five minutes before you showed your face and walked down here with the old man. I thought you were some old girlfriend come back to look after him. Maybe you were. See I think, maybe, this wasn’t so much murder as euthanasia. I think the time he spent in that place ruined his health so badly that the old guy was strugglin’ for every last breath he took. And if that’s the story then maybe killing him was the kindest thing you could do, if he’d already seen a doctor and there was no way it could be treated.

What I don’t get is how you can take two of the people who saved your life earlier tonight and try to screw up both their lives. That’s a pretty fucked-up way of showin’ gratitude. You’re one screwed up bitch. I suggest you find yourself a good shrink. Angelus hasn’t existed for a hundred years, give or take one brief reappearance, and we know you weren’t around then. Angel, the vampire with a soul, may look similar if you take off the leather pants and add a vest, but he’s not. He has a conscience and he generally follows it. He doesn’t feed from humans and he loves the kid, just the same as if he were a human father. Maybe more because he never thought he could have one.

You keep saying Angelus did it, so whatever grudge you’ve been harbouring must be a damn sight older than you, and you don’t look Romany to me so I doubt it’s been passed down from generation to generation. Believe me Angel’s paid twice over for all the things he did, first when he got the soul, and then when he went to hell for half a millennia. If the Powers That Be thought he’s been punished enough, and sent him back to atone by working for them, I think it’s a bit arrogant for you to try to make things work out different."

Spike threw his cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it twisting his foot to put it out. He turned his gaze to the youth.

"Kid, in a way, Angelus was a second father to me, and I hated the bastard with a fiery passion. Angel isn’t the same person and he loves you. Give him a chance. If you still end up hating him after a couple of years, then leave and do your own thing, but get to know him first, not the stories you’ve been told about what he was like two hundred years ago.

We’re goin’ back to the Hyperion once we’ve had a cup of coffee. If you want a lift or you want a hand with your dad’s body we’ll be back in ten minutes once you’ve had a chance to think things through."

Spike paused long enough to drop off their weapons in the trunk of the nearby DeSoto before leading Buffy off down the street in the direction of a nearby coffee-shop. Spike stayed silent until he was sure he was well beyond normal hearing range for a vamp.

"Was he listening, do you think? Or does he still think it was him?"

"I think he listened, Quincy. He’s probably come to the conclusion that we stabbed him with a screwdriver rather than getting the right culprit, but I think you convinced him it wasn’t Angel."

"Yeah, well, not a word about this to the Poof. Right? Unless you want to tell him that I told the kid I hated him."

"I won’t say anything unless he specifically asks, but I think unless Stephen’s struck dumb chances are he will."

The pair managed to catch the coffee-shop just before it closed and dallied on the way back to give the teenager ample time to consider their offer.

Wednesday Early hours of the morning

"Gimme a bell when you want pickin’ up, if it’s before sun-up. If not get yourself a taxi." Spike shoved some notes into her hand. "There should be enough there, an’ assumin’ you want to go shoppin’ tomorrow you’d best book us another day at the motel."

"You’re not coming in?"

"No point. Get yourself in there and do whatever it is you think you have to and I’ll be waitin’ when you’re done. Me an’ him said everythin’ we’ve got to say to each other years ago." She knew that he hated this. That however much had happened between them, part of him still expected her to turn to Angel.

"Not even a message."

"Nah, Wait, yeah. Tell ‘im I said that he can’t expect the kid to kill people for their clothes. He’s goin’ to have to put his hand in his pocket for once and give the cheerleader some dosh to take him shoppin’."

"Is that a subtle dig?"

"Is it? Dunno, pet. I wasn’t tryin’ for subtle."

"An’, pet. Don’t let him make you feel guilty about him not havin’ anyone. The cheerleader’s goin’ to work out why it took her so long to notice her Prince Charmin’ was missin’ before too long."

"You what? Angel and Cordelia?" Buffy snorted. "Yeah, that’s gonna happen."

"Already has, pet, just the beauty queen can’t see it yet."

"You’re serious. I mean, I can see Cordelia falling for Angel, but please…"

"Ooh, is that wounded pride I sense. He was supposed to content himself with your memory for the rest of his life. Couldn’t you sense it? Bint’s grown up, found her place, her calling. She might need to sue her hairdresser but she’s turned into a hell of a woman. According to our green friend, grand-papa has it bad as she has. Now go or it’ll be sunrise before you get in there."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wore a watch but Buffy doubted despite the events of the night if it was much past midnight. She brought a hand up to his face, her fingers following that scarred eyebrow and leant across to give him a long tender kiss.

"Don’t go too far. I might want to leave in a hurry." Her hand trailed down his face, over his shoulder, down over his arm until finally their fingertips locked together briefly before she got out of the car.

Chapter 2.08

Buffy squared her shoulders and walked into the hotel for the third time that night. The foyer was still lit, the outer door still open, but there was no-one in sight.

"Hello-o. Anybody home? Angel?"

"I am here." A large well-muscled male figure straightened up from the far side of the circular sofa and gave Buffy an ingenuous smile. "Perhaps I may be of some assistance. Do you require the services of an investigator?"

"No. You must be Cordelia’s …friend? I’m Buffy. I’m an old friend of Angel’s. I’d like to speak to him."

"Angel and Cordelia are upstairs trying out bedrooms …for Connor, I mean. Would you like me to fetch him?" the man offered.

"Yeah, that’d be good."

Buffy turned and jumped up to sit on the former reception desk swinging her legs while she waited. She watched the large, rather formal stranger retreat up the stairs. She wondered why she was here? What was it she wanted to say? They had both moved on. Why did she feel like she needed his approval? What the…? Did she even just think that? If that was what this was about then maybe she should just go.

"Buffy." Angel came down the final flight of stairs.

"Angel. Hi! …again," Buffy was suddenly awkward.

"I thought you’d gone for the night?" his voice was neither welcoming, nor cool, more cautious.

"Had some catching up to do with people of the human variety, figured you would still be up and about when I’d finished."

"Where’s Spike?"

Buffy shrugged. "He took the car, said to give him a ring when I need picking up. I think he decided we were more likely to get to the talking stage if he wasn’t around."

"I guess so. Since we seem to actually be talking this time. Do you want a drink? Tea, coffee?"

"We just had one. Thanks. Don’t let me stop you if you want one. Or blood or anything." Then she remembered that Angel didn’t like to feed in front of her. She’d got so used to Spike and his "I drink blood. Deal with it." attitude that she’d forgotten how repressed Angel had been. She looked across at Angel wondering why she just didn’t feel anything much except disappointment. They had had something that she had thought was special, but it turned out to be nothing more than a wrong turning. So much of her energy had gone into it, and so many of her hang-ups were because of it and at the end of the day it just didn’t mean that much.

"I wouldn’t mind. Fancy moving through to the kitchen?"

"Sure. Wherever." Buffy followed him through and grabbed a seat on one of the worktops while he prepped some blood.

"Where are we going with this, Buffy?" Angel asked. "Are you here to talk about you and Spike or to ask me about Connor?"

"Mostly me and Spike, mildly curious about Connor but I reckon it could keep until you know better yourself what the situation is with him, more curious about you and Cordelia."

"Wha-? How did you know? …There’s nothing to tell."

"How do you think I know? Who can walk in a room and read everyone in it? Not to mention working out where to go for more information. According to Love’s Bitch you two are a done deal even if she hasn’t worked it out yet."

"He’s got it wrong. We’re close. She’s my best friend but she’s with someone else."

"Someone who went out this morning and she didn’t even realise he’d gone until she wanted to introduce him to us when we arrived. He’s not going to be around for the long haul, however much he might want to be."

"Yeah? Well I suppose time will tell." Angel seemed to draw some comfort from her words but then he sighed. "I suppose that just leaves you and Spike… as topics for conversation that is."

"Guess so... You know he’s changed. I think when he stopped hunting, he became a lot more like the man he used to be." Buffy tried to make a start on what she wanted to say.

"This from the one who told me demons don’t change?"

"Just because he’s my Mr Right doesn’t mean his first name is Always," said Buffy.

"Buffy, just because he has a chip that prevents him from harming humans doesn’t mean he’s good. He still has a demon inside him. He’s still inherently evil."

"I don’t believe that. Your guy that was here earlier with the green skin, does he have a soul? Is he evil? Spike’s inherently violent, confident to the point of arrogance as far a certain things go. He’s possessive, fiercely protective and out and out predatory. He gets all that from his demon side, but none of what I’ve just described makes him evil. It might make him act like a bit of an asshole now and again but that’s about it.

His violent side is channelled into helping me patrol and to be honest I think he prefers the odds on the white hat side of the fence. He’d rather be fighting something twice his size or outnumbered five to one or helping take on a god."

"Buffy, without a soul, he has nothing to guide him, to tell him right from wrong."

"Bullshit! He knows right from wrong. He was taught it as a child and he’s intelligent enough with the passage of time to work out how much of what he learned was due to the foibles of the age and what was truly wrong. Or to apply the rule about if it harms no other. Right and wrong are primarily intellectual. Children have to be taught to share, not to just take everything they want. They have a soul, but it doesn’t mean they know right from wrong until someone teaches them. Will may not be wracked with guilt if he does something wrong, but most of the time he still knows it’s wrong.

Without your soul, you became evil, but to give you the benefit of the doubt it may be that your individual demon is particularly malevolent or it may just be that you’re far more weak-willed than Spike. Having a soul didn’t stop you stealing from your father to fund your drinking and your womanising when you were human. You used women with never a thought as to whether they’d end up pregnant, disgraced or diseased, never mind thinking of their feelings. You only cared that you had your fun. In fact, I’m fairly positive the soul you were cursed with probably isn’t the one you originally had otherwise chances are, even with it, you would still act like Liam.

All your soul does is provide a negative incentive against what you’ve been educated to believe is wrong. Will has a positive incentive to do what’s right, the people he loves. He wants our approval, our acceptance, our love. He doesn’t need a guilt complex, he just wants to make us happy, doesn’t want to disappoint us and for him it’s enough.

So which is better, acting out of love or acting on the fear of feeling bad afterwards?" Buffy challenged the Souled One.

"Hey, back off a bit. I just want to make sure you know what you’re up against here. You honestly believe that if the chip stopped working tomorrow he wouldn’t go back to feeding from humans?"

"Do you honestly think I’d be engaged to him if I didn’t?" Again, Buffy looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he couldn’t get over the way her and Spike seemed to have grown together. "Let’s cut all the crap here. You find out I’m getting married, which one would be worse, marrying Will or marrying Riley."

"Marrying Riley!" Angel didn’t hesitate even for a fraction of a second.

"So all the soulless chipped vampire stuff doesn’t really bother you that much at all, does it?" Buffy asked.

"I guess not."

"So how about you stop pretending it does, and we try to all be friends, assuming you can avoid attacking Will the next time you see him."

"Didn’t Spike say we’d never be friends."

"Never is a long time, feelings change. Our lives have gone in different directions."

"Hey, well, if you can get married to a guy that called you "Slutty the Vampire Slayer", then anything is possible.

"He what? He is so dead… well, he is dead, but he’ll be deader."

Angel let out a low chuckle at her blustering, and Buffy quietened.

"Angel, there’s something I have to tell you. I didn’t say anything before because I knew we wouldn’t have the conversation we just did if I had. Did that make sense?"

"Just about. So what is this news?"

"When you went out before, Spike and me sort of followed you…" Buffy proceeded to describe what had happened at Holtz’s motel after Angel had left. "…Stephen got there just before we did. Whoever killed him must have stabbed him with a screwdriver or something. They left two puncture wounds in his neck. The woman, she was acting as if she’d seen you do it—"

"And you wait till now to tell me this?" Angel punched the countertop making a dent in the stainless steel finish and then began to pace to and fro.

"What were you planning on doing, huh? She’s human. The person she killed doesn’t officially exist. He’s a non-person. It’s even possible he inflicted the wounds himself. Dru isn’t conveniently hanging around for you to lock them up together. And if she was meant to die wouldn’t it have just been simpler for the Powers to let her die in the bar? You’ve got to remember we only see our part of the picture. Hear me out."

"We gave a few forensic-type arguments as to why we didn’t believe her and let the kid make up his own mind. We offered him a lift back here, but he said he wanted some time alone, so once we helped him carry the body back up to his room and Will made sure the room was paid for through tomorrow, we left him be. He’s not exactly big on demons and what with you and Will being in the middle of a fight the first time we saw him, we probably weren’t the best people to be there.

With a bit of luck he’ll show up here of his own accord tomorrow, but I don’t think you’re in a position to push. He might accept you didn’t kill his dad, but he feels like you deceived him and stopped him being there to prevent it, so you’re partly to blame.

You’re going to have to be careful not to crowd him."

"Gunn and Fred were supposed to be looking after him." Angel wavered between concern that the couple hadn’t come back and anger that they’d failed in their duty.

"Yeah, but if that kid decides to run off I defy anyone to catch him and to paraphrase a friend. He’s a sixteen-year-old boy and even if everything was normal he’d still be a hormone bomb just waiting to go off. Chances are he’d run away anyway. We know he’s somewhere safe even if he is alone in a room with a dead body. Gunn and Fred are probably driving round looking for him. Maybe you should ring and let them know he’s okay, sort of."

"Gunn and Fred were the ones who found out he was staying at the motel. They would probably try there first."

"In which case they might be with him now, and if you rang them they might be able to give you an update.

Look, there’s nothing more I can tell you. We’ll be in touch. I’ll just ring Will and then I’ll wait out front." Buffy gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passed through on her way to the foyer.

"Hey!" Cordy’s voice greeted her as she moved back into the room. "Whatcha do with the big guy?"

"Left him in the kitchen moping into his mug of blood. Isn’t that always the way it goes when we meet up. Except it isn’t always a kitchen, and he never used to drink blood in front of people... And for once I’m just a messenger and not the cause of the moping." Buffy wandered over to the office where Cordy and her apparent ex-to-be were sitting, the man massaging her neck.

Cordy gave her a slightly guilty look. "So how did things go with Wes? I mean whatever impression you may have got before, I do still care about him, it’s just that right now Angel is my priority and I can’t be there for both of them."

"Yeah, well I guess Bitchy Buffy made a bit of an appearance as well. As to how things went…" Buffy shrugged. "Don’t think I know him well enough to tell. Will and him seemed to hit it off. They went all English and started talking about some Owen guy and some Semen guy but apparently it’s spelled different. I got kinda lost off.

Look, I need to ring Spike to get him to come pick me up. Do you have a phone I can borrow?"

"You mean it’s not your peroxide blond chain smoker that’s been pacing up and down in front of the doors for the last five minutes?"

Buffy looked out into the darkness beyond the glass doors able to make out almost nothing of the night beyond the reflected hotel interior, nothing that is except for a halo of white-blond hair and the orange glow of a lit cigarette. "Yeah," she said softly a smile coming unbidden to her lips. Her next words firmer, "yeah, that one’s mine." To Cordy’s amazement she took off across the foyer at a run and pushed through the revolving door as fast as the hydraulic mechanism and her slayer strength would allow. She threw herself into the arms of the waiting vampire, who grabbed her and spun her round till she was breathless, their coats fanning out behind them like costumes in a bizarre fetish ballet, before letting her feet return to the ground and kissing her soundly.

SECTION 3 – DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT

When I passed you in the doorway
You took me with a glance
I should have taken the last bus home
But I asked you for a dance…

…But I’m dancing in the moonlight
It’s caught me in its spotlight
It’s alright, alright
Dancing in the moonlight
On the long hot summer night

(Thin Lizzy [written by Phil Lynott], Album Bad Reputation)

Chapter 3.01

It took Buffy a few minutes to realise that they weren’t headed in the direction of the motel, but she decided to stay quiet and see where he took her. She scooted along the seat towards him and rested her head on his shoulder, her knees bent and her feet came to rest against the door. Soon she felt as if his shoulder bone was stabbing her in the ear. God but the guy was skinny, strike that, he was lean, lean and muscled and how she wanted to get to the body hidden under that coat, but she was so going to make him beg.

In the meantime she pulled his arm up and slid under it, twisting her body a quarter turn so that she leant back against his side letting his arm drop over her shoulder and lie on top of her front. Her head dropped back against his chest and she watched him as he drove. His arm bent so that it held her to him, firm as an iron bar just below her breasts.

"It really gets to you, that I used to be with Angel, doesn’t it?"

"Bit," he admitted, his jaw clenching into knots.

"Why?"

"What sort of question’s that. Why d’you bloody think, you stupid bint?"

"If I thought I knew I wouldn’t be asking, would I, you…. you moronic … excuse for an undead fiend?"

"I’m supposed to be singing and dancing about the whole thing, do you a Dick van Dyck number from Mary soddin’ Poppins, shall I?"

Suddenly Buffy was sitting back up in her seat. She had her back to the door as far away from him as possible. "No. I just want to know what aspect of the situation it is that bothers you. Is it because you’re not the only guy I’ve been with or is it because it’s Angel and you think I’m going to do a Dru and change my mind and go running back to him or is it something else entirely?"

"I don’t know… You’re a twenty-one-year-old woman and this is the twenty-first century. If you were a virgin you’d either be a bloody nun or pig ugly. If you were either of them, I don’t think we’d be where we are now. Doesn’t mean there isn’t part of me that wishes things were different, but no, that’s not really what bothers me.

What gets to me is that when you went in there alone, I was scared to death that the only reason you’d come out was to tell me its over. And yeah, that’s partly ‘cause of him and me and Dru ‘n’ him ‘n’ you. But it’s because of what happened when Soldier Boy turned up as well and it’s because part of me knows you’re too bloody good for me.

Happy now?"

"Not yet, no. No, I’m not. I don’t even know where to start with you." Buffy looked over at him and for a second she contemplated taking one of his cigarettes, seeing if it would steady her as they seemed to steady him on occasion. She’d thought that maybe they could have a rational discussion about this. Clear the air and end up in a better place, instead they’d gone from joyous reunion to screaming match in less than ten minutes.

Instead of going for the cigarette she poked him in the hip with the heel of her boot, hard enough to hurt if not to mark. He glanced away from the road long enough to snarl at her.

"You aren’t the one who gets to judge whether you’re good enough for me. I am. And if you’ve got some stupid notion that I’m up there on some pedestal that you can’t touch you can forget it right now. We work together because even though we’re so much the same, we’re opposites in a lot of ways too. We balance each other. You feel like you’re part man, part demon. I’m part woman, part slayer. We both have dark and light within us. It doesn’t matter who’s got more of each, together everything falls into place. Are you listening to me? Do you get that?"

The car swerved to the right as Spike pulled off the freeway.

"Are you going to answer me, or am I talking to myself here?" Buffy demanded.

"I heard you." Spike spat out his reply.

"Right, well, keep listening. I’m not Dru. I am not your damn precious Dark Princess. I’m my mother’s daughter and I’ve got too much pride to let some guy walk out on me and then take him back. That’s for starters.

And you are not an Angel substitute. You are not someone I’m making do with until he decides he wants me back. You couldn’t be more different if you tried. D’you know why I was talking to Cordelia tonight about Wes instead of asking Angel. Because I don’t have the patience to deal with Mr Mysterious any more. I’m too used to you and your big mouth telling me what’s going on and making me face up to the truth to be bothered trying to wheedle what I want out of him.

Do you know what I realised tonight. If anyone was a substitute, it was him. Angel was the first guy I went out with after we moved to Sunnydale, after we moved away from the city my dad lived in. That’s why he got to call all the shots. That’s why I let this older, "wiser" guy give me advice and protect me. I wasn’t looking for an equal to share my life with. I was looking for a father figure. Whatever spark there used to be between us, it’s gone, on my side anyway. I didn’t even realise it, but I went in there tonight looking for his approval."

The ground on either side of the road they were on levelled out and Spike pulled off the road and braked sharply making Buffy brace her arm against the dashboard to prevent her falling off the seat.

"I suspect you were disappointed then, love." Spike’s voice still held a hint of anger, but it was obvious he was calmer than he had been.

"You might be surprised. He had plenty of objections, but when I asked him straight out if he’d rather I was marrying you or Riley he didn’t even hesitate. So I guess things aren’t as bad between you as you think they are."

Her voice began to lose its angry edge. "You still listening?"

"You have my full attention, pet." Spike’s voice was almost back to normal.

"What happened with Riley coming back isn’t going to happen again. I was still… dissociated. Still blocking out everything but being with you and even when I was with you I wouldn’t admit even to myself what my feelings were. As a person I was in a bad place and as a couple we were in a bad place. We’re past that and we’re stronger now, don’t you think?"

Spike raised his arm towards her, his fingers beckoning her over to him. "I don’t think, I know."

Buffy slid back into her previous position under his arm. "So next time I have to go see Angel or Riley turns up, you’re not going to get yourself in such a state, are you?" She looked up at him.

Spike’s clear blue eyes looked back at her. "I think you could probably downgrade the situation from terrified to vaguely worried." A rueful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"And you’re sure, the other thing doesn’t bother you?" Buffy asked. Spike tried to work out why she suddenly looked so vulnerable.

"What other… no, Buffy, no. We have something special. I know I’m not your first, but that doesn’t matter if I can be your best and maybe your last."

"I think it’s safe to say that you would be a tough act to follow, and that as long as you’re around I won’t be having any auditions," Buffy reassured him, but her eyes still hadn’t lost that look that said she was just waiting for him to hurt her.

"Something else is bothering you, pet. Tell me what it is." Spike coaxed the words from her, as his fingertips tried to smooth away the worry lines from her forehead.

"Do you think I’m a slut?" she asked in a trembling voice, tears gathering in the outer corners of her eyes.

"No! God no! What the hell’s brought this on, pet? I’ve never thought that. If anything I’ve been more sure of it than you have. That’s why I couldn’t believe what happened the morning after in the house. Whatever you might have said I knew it wasn’t in your nature to go in for meaningless sex. No matter what you said, I knew you wouldn’t give yourself to someone you didn’t have some feelings for. Why would you think I could think that?" The arm wrapped around her body held her even more tightly and his left hand stroked her hair trying to bolster his words of reassurance with actions. He would have kissed her but he was worried that would be counter-productive.

"A-Angel said you called me Slutty the Vampire Slayer, and some of the things we’ve done you wouldn’t ask a "nice" girl to do them, or most of the places."

"Christ, pet. Do you know how long ago it was that I last spoke to the Poof before today? Back before I even got the chip, right after that bastard Parker. I doubt you’d even met Cardboard and I knew fine well that you’d been had by a first rate con artist and that it only worked because you were so damn innocent. I just wanted to get some of my own back on Peaches. It was just a lousy cheap shot. It wasn’t even aimed at you. It was meant to hurt him.

And as far as what a nice girl will or won’t do… I’ll never think you’re anything but a nice girl. What goes on between two consenting adults has nothing to do with whether she’s a nice girl or not, just what happens to press their buttons, pet. No-one would ever say your mate Glinda’s anything but good, but her and Red don’t exactly have a conventional thing goin’ on. You get my drift?"

"So you’re not with the thinking I’m a great big ho?" Buffy gave him a weak half-smile.

"Never have, my love." He craned his neck to kiss her on the forehead. "Never will."

After a minute or two Spike put the car back into gear and pulled out onto the road. Buffy stayed in her position tucked in against him so she couldn’t see where they were going very well, but she soon caught a salty tang in the air. A quarter of an hour later Spike pulled over and stopped the car.

"We’re here, pet." Spike stroked her hair and when she still didn’t move he brushed the back of one finger over her cheek.

"Comfy," mumbled the slayer.

"Plenty of time for comfy later, love." He turned on the radio and started flicking through the different stations, the old fashioned knobs making heavy clunking noises as he worked his way through them until the fifth or sixth attempt produced the distinctive voice of Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World". He turned up the volume. "Come dance with me, pet?"

Buffy struggled to sit up and take in her surroundings. By the time she’d worked out that they were in a parking lot at the coast about ten or fifteen miles from LA itself the passenger door was opened from the outside and Spike stood with his hand extended toward her. Even from the parking lot the view of the moonlit ocean, empty of any boats or people was beautiful.

She let herself melt into his arms and surrendered to the gravelly seduction of a long gone voice singing of sights, most of which her partner had only had one brief chance to glimpse in over a century. The song finished and segued into a slow instrumental she recognised as Glen Miller. He pulled back far enough as the song changed to make eye contact and lift that eyebrow, but when she buried her face back into his shoulder he swiftly relaxed and shuffled his feet in time to the music again. Uncaring of the occasional vehicles that passed on the road the pair danced in the pool of light cast by the DeSoto’s interior light.

When the next song started, he kissed her on the top of her head and pulled away. "Not about to be seen in public dancin’ to country and western, pet, even if it is Patsy Cline."

"And I thought this would be your theme tune," Buffy mocked.

"Har, bloody har. Not that "crazy"." His voice softened to the soft deep tone that gave her butterflies. "You’re here with me." He reached into the backseat of the car, taking a spare packet of cigarettes from an open carton, then dropped the lock on the passenger door and slammed it shut. Walking round to the trunk, he opened it, pulling out a travel rug and the cooler that she was sure they had left in their motel room.

"I didn’t think I spent that long talking to He Who Shall Not Be Named, but it was obviously long enough for you to plot some mischief." Buffy gave him a smile that was almost a grin.

"Just a quick drive back to the motel, a brief phone call and then a visit to an all-night convenience store. Still too busy at the motel for skinny-dipping, so I thought I’d bring you somewhere more private.

Fancy a moonlight stroll? Once we make it round the headland there, there’s a nice secluded bay where you can’t be seen from the road." He slung the blanket over his shoulder, picked up the cooler in his left hand and offered her his right.

"I take it you’ve been here before?" she asked as they made their way through the grassy dunes to the beach below.

Spike shrugged. "I don’t get pissed every time we have a bust-up. Sometimes I take the bike out. Normally by the time I get this far I’m beginning to calm down a bit… That and the thought of getting any closer to Peaches normally makes me feel like heavin’." The last bit was added with a typical Spike smirk.

Buffy opened her mouth to ask something and then closed it again leaving the question unasked, not wanting to provoke a further outburst of temper from the volatile vampire. Spike, however, was too conscious of her every move to let the gesture pass unnoticed.

"Wha’s up, pet?" he asked.

She squeezed his hand in response. "Nothing worth spoiling the mood, just… it’ll wait."

"And if I promise I won’t get upset?…" He put down the cooler, dropping the blanket on top of it. Taking her into his arms he looked down into her dark eyes. "I know I’ve got a hell of a temper on me, but I don’t want you to ever be scared to talk to me about anythin’."

Buffy sighed. "If I don’t tell you now you’re going to get upset, aren’t you?"

Spike’s words were gently teasing but underneath there was that layer of hurt caused by her past denials. "If I didn’t know better I might think you thought I had real feelings."

Buffy picked up the travel rug, taking his hand again. "Okay, but we walk and talk and if you’re uncomfortable about it you don’t have to answer." She judged he’d rather at least part of her attention were distracted by trying to find her way, rather than focused on his every gesture.

Spike quickly lit another cigarette one-handed and slid the cooler’s handle up his arm to his elbow before indicating he was ready to proceed. "Spit it out then, love. What’s got you burnin’ up with curiosity?"

Buffy bit her lip briefly before she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Were you and Angel ever lovers?"

Spike took a deep draw on his cigarette and then exhaled impossibly slowly. "There isn’t a simple yes or no answer to that one." His gaze flicked over her face, noting her eyes held curiosity but nothing more. He knew if he wanted, he could say nothing further on the matter and she wouldn’t ask again, but he would have set up a barrier between them. A limit to how well he would let her know him, so he continued.

"Right, first off, if you’re asking specifically about Angel as opposed to Angelus, then in every sense of the word the answer would be no. To answer the rest of it you need to understand a bit about what happens when vampires are made." He drew again from his cigarette, his eye seemingly focused on some distant spot as he worked out how to explain, what she needed to know. His accent automatically slipped to sound far more like Giles’ as he delivered an explanation.

"Okay, ninety-nine percent of the time when a vampire makes a childe, an emotional bond is formed, but it’s a one-way bond. It’s intended to make the childe loyal to and dependent on their sire. If you have a group like the Scourge where several generations live together, then that bond will apply all the way back to the progenitor, though it will always be strongest between the childe and his sire." His gaze moved across her face briefly, ensuring that she wasn’t either totally bored or lost.

"It’s like a need to belong. You’ve lost your place in the world you used to live in and you need reassurance about where you belong in this new one. It is literally like being a child again. You have to learn how to function in a new body, a new society and if a childe’s sire dies, or abandons them too early in the process they will almost certainly die."

`"So Angel needed Darla, Dru needed Angel and Darla and you needed all three?" Buffy asked.

"Got it in one, cutie." Spike smiled. "Now part of it is things like learning to hunt and stuff, which in my case ended up being almost entirely left to Angelus, with Dru being like she was. If I really had been Angelus’ childe I doubt I’d have lasted more than a week, but that was where I was lucky. I was part of the one percent. Whether Dru just didn’t know any better or whether she chose to do it that way, the bond in our case went both ways. So, if Angelus killed me, not only would he lose the body that was looking after Dru, but also Dru would most likely become less stable. She was only valuable to him because of the visions and if she was less lucid he won’t be able to understand her. But I’m getting ahead of myself a bit."

"Anyway, as a new fledgling I had a need, and I mean need, not desire for all three. And that has to do with just being around them but mostly it’s about approval and acceptance and one of the main ways that it’s communicated is touch, closeness. You crave their touch, their attention even in any form they’ll give it, including sex. And maybe in some twisted way you could say that need is a form of love."

Spike took a last pull on his cigarette before he sent it arcing across the sand.

"The thing is, from Angelus’ point of view there is no bond between us, just an upstart fledgling who needs to learn who’s boss." Spike swallowed before he continued. "Angelus likes to be surrounded by beautiful people, but what he likes more is to torture them and break them. He’s a sadist and I don’t mean a bite here and there, I mean enough pain to ensure even a vampire’s going to have trouble healing. Since he’s limited with Darla by what she wants, he compensates when he’s with me and Dru." Buffy noticed that he’d slipped into the present tense, as if he were reliving those early days.

"Over time the need fades a bit, and you gain more self-control so that you don’t have to give in to it. It won’t stop an older male using rape as a means to demonstrate his dominance if he thinks you’re challenging him, or as a punishment for whatever crime he decides that you’ve committed." He wanted to know just what Buffy was thinking, but he was too ashamed to even look, so he stared at his feet as he walked.

"Anyway by the time the pull of the bond started to wane in my case I loved Dru and even if it never overcame the Daddy thing, she loved me. So, when he notices that I stopped seeking him out he basically hurts Dru until I beg him to use me instead. He could make either of us do anything he wanted. You couldn’t say it was rape, but it wasn’t exactly consensual either.

So, yes we were physically intimate, but it wasn’t a reciprocal arrangement. Were we ever lovers? No, I don’t think so, I mean I felt something for him and underneath all the layers of bad feeling I guess I always will, but he never felt anything for me or anyone else. The judge said there was no humanity, no human feelings in Angelus. I was just a toy, a whore, a means to blackmail Dru."

"She still wouldn’t leave him?" Buffy asked gently.

"She couldn’t. Didn’t have what it took to fight the bond. Didn’t remember from one minute to the next why she should want to." Spike’s voice was filled with resignation.

"Tonight, you and Angel, if Stephen hadn’t interrupted…and he wouldn’t cry uncle…" Buffy left the question hanging.

"He would have. Given the choice of admitting you’re beat or taking it up the arse in front of everyone you know… He was just stalling, playing chicken."

"Theoretically though, you could’ve got engaged to me one day and screwed my ex in front of me the next?"

"It was one of the possibilities." Spike conceded, looking far less sorry for himself at the reminder of his victory earlier in the evening.

"I don’t suppose I’d be the first to tell you that the vampire social system is screwed up."

"Actually, you might be, but then not that many non-vamps know that much about it, and most of them wouldn’t be discussing the subject with a vampire."

"Still not the best way to prove you intend to be faithful…" Buffy teased.

"And if he thought that was how you would see it that would give him one reason to let me. But you understand that it wouldn’t be about sex as such, don’t you?"

"I know, I got the message," she admitted. "It’s a power thing. Doesn’t mean that I’m not pleased Stephen turned up when he did… Not that I wanted you to get knocked unconscious, but…"

"But you’ve already laid your claim to the contents of my jeans?" Spike smirked.

"Pig…but, yeah. And don’t you forget it." Buffy stole a glance at the object of her affection. "You know, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through, but even a fraction… I’m not saying this very well… what you told Stephen about Angel… that he should go to him. It’s a huge deal that you would do that after what Angelus did to you."

"Couldn’t do anything else, pet. Kept wonderin’ what woulda happened to Bit, if she’d just all of a sudden found herself in Sunnydale instead of havin’ you and Joyce and all those fake memories. What the Poof wanted didn’t come into it," he said shame-faced. "Was only thinkin’ ‘bout what was best for the boy. Kid’s family after all.

Which reminds me. If he comes to the wedding make sure Peaches knows to keep him away from the Niblet. Don’t want to have to kill the boy."

"You don’t think they’d make a cute couple?" Buffy asked.

"I don’t think I like the idea of the Niblet coming up to LA to visit him ‘n’ stayin’ with Peaches in a hotel with god only knows how many empty rooms. An’ the fact that the kid obviously gets his looks from his mother and has the whole supernatural abilities package. Think how much trouble Bit gets into in Sunnydale. Add him to the package and let them loose in LA, God knows what would happen."

"Relax, you’re acting like it’s a foregone conclusion, that if they meet that’s it."

"Hmph. Think back a few years, pet. Imagine the kid in one of them stupid jackets they give to all the football team, like the one Bit’s had hidden at the back of her closet since Halloween. Imagine the cheerleader got him some decent clothes and…" Spike raised an eyebrow. "An’ you show me a kid that age that doesn’t think my Bit is gorgeous an’ I’ll show you a kid that’s either bent or needs glasses. And she’d do it just to drive me round the bend and get even with you. It’d be, "you’ve got no room to talk you dated his dad and you’re engaged to his nephew. At least Stephen’s my age and he’s not a vampire."" Spike imitated the pouting tones of his favourite teenager. "And, don’t forget all the prophecy child crap she’d be getting into. ‘M not havin’ it."

Buffy couldn’t help the giggles that overcame her. "You are such a doof."

Spike smirked. "Don’t care. Made you laugh. But she’s still not going out with him. Those Aurelius men are nothing but trouble."

"All too aware of that little fact."

"Glad we’re agreed then. While we’re on, why don’t we just settle it now that she can’t date, full stop, till she’s at least twenty-one." Spike was clearly no longer being entirely serious, but she pitied any boy who called at the house for Dawn, in future.

"You know, when she decides to start dating there’s going to be nothing either of us can do to stop her because she’ll just sneak out if we try. At least if we go along with it we might get to meet them."

Spike growled, but gave up. "Still don’t have to like it," he muttered. He stopped walking and put down the cooler. Taking the blanket from Buffy he shifted the cooler to weigh down one end and then shrugged off his leather laying it so its weight held down one side. His boots came off next and he somehow managed to get his socks off at the same time so that he didn’t get sand on them.

"Is this some vampire tradition for nude picnics I’ve not heard of before?" teased Buffy, still fully dressed.

"We could start one if you want, but I seem to recall something about you human types having to wait till after you swim to eat." By now the vampire’s T-shirt also lay on top of the blanket and he was in the process of getting his jeans off over his feet.

Buffy’s face reddened as she slid her coat from her shoulders, casting surreptitious glances at the vampire she was with. She wondered if his lack of concern about his nudity was in any way related to his lack of reflection, or if it was because he knew just how damn perfect he was. He bent over to pull something from his coat pocket and she recognised the scraps of material that made up her bikini. "Just in case you’re feeling shy, pet…"

"It’s got a better chance of staying intact if I just skip it, I suspect."

"Probably." He gave her a grin and moved over to help her fumbling hands untie the knot in the front of her blouse. She could feel the wetness spread between her thighs just being this close, but then, Spike had been semi-erect by the time he got his jeans off. It was just the way they were together. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him entirely flaccid.

As if of their own volition, her hands started to move toward his dick, wanting to bring him to full arousal. Before they could get there he had undone the knot and was pushing the sheer fabric of her blouse down her arms, the cool touch of his fingertips sending shivers down her spine. Her breathing was already ragged and she wished she’d started throwing her clothes off when he did, so that she’d be spared this torture.

He knelt at her feet, letting her balance her weight on his shoulders as he removed her boots and socks. His hands slid around her to undo the zip at the back of her leather pants bringing his face flush with her stomach and he kissed her through the layer of leather before he slid both the pants and her briefs down in one motion. He threw the tangle of leather and lace to land in the middle of the blanket and as he rose to a standing position he trailed one hand along her inner thigh, letting his fingers stroke her wet folds without parting them. Even so, she was unable to help the hitch in her breath, and she could only watch as he lifted each damp finger individually to his lips and sucked them clean.

He caught the lower edges of her camisole and she lifted her arms as he raised them to allow the removal of this last barrier. She twined her arms around his neck, drawing his face down to hers in a desperate kiss. His hands slid down her back and first held each of the smooth lush cheeks of her ass and then glided to her inner thighs lifting her against him and parting her till she wrapped her legs around his hips and raised herself up to slide him into her. Without raising his lips from hers, he moaned from deep in his throat at the sensation of being engulfed in her wet fire.

Deciding swimming could wait, he let them fall over onto the blanket, catching himself on his elbows to avoid crushing her, but letting the impact drive him deeper into her. Buffy drew her mouth back from his gasping for air. He slowly bucked his hips, making the smallest possible movements within her. One hand reached down to spread her lips so that the grinding motion he introduced at the end of each stroke crushed her clit between their pelvic bones. Buffy could feel the tension in her stomach muscles building impossibly slowly, gentle tingling sensations spiralling out from her centre. His hands teased her breasts, stroking softly against their undersides. Fingertips traced patterns on her creamy mounds, untouched by the California sun, avoiding her nipples wanting to bring her to the edge as slowly as possible. Still, he couldn’t resist the pull of his marks on her neck and he nuzzled against them, causing her to clench her inner muscles around him before she started to thrust her hips in time to his.

His hands left a trail of tiny hairs standing upright as they moved down to still her hips. "Shhh, pet. Relax. Just let it happen." His mouth moved away from the healing scars and he nibbled at her collarbone instead with blunt teeth, following up with languid open-mouthed kisses. His hands ran down the length of her arms until they found hers and wound their fingers together, the feel of the ring on her left hand filling his heart with pride and love. He looked down into her hazel eyes, seeing them reflect back the same feelings of love that showed in his. He couldn’t look away, and their world narrowed to the look in the others eyes, the feel of fingers locked together and the sensations building where they moved against each other.

Spike’s movements increased gradually in pace and fervour, but his eyes never left Buffy’s, their love-making an act of worship on his part. This time, when her hips began to move beneath him he did nothing to stop her. It could have been seconds, minutes or hours later that Buffy felt herself begin to fall away. She felt herself break into a million pieces and watched them float off in slow motion. Spike let himself go as he felt her muscles trembling around him, exploding inside her as she finally closed her eyes and moaned her pet form of his given name. Just as she thought she was entering the period of post-coital calm, his mouth dropped to the claim mark and the pressure of his blunt teeth on the wounds brought on another round of quaking helplessness.

Still sheathed inside her, he slid his hands from hers and wrapping his arms around her, rolled them both over so that she lay on top of him, pulling his coat over them to keep the wind from chilling her fevered body. She tucked her head under his chin, resting against his shoulder and tired from a day of hectic activity they both dozed off lulled by the rhythmic sound of the ocean waves.

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