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Buffy The Vampire Slayer > BTVS - Season Six
Hank by Painbow
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Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. If I did there’d be a series of wild, all night parties…

A/N: Big thanks and smoochies to spikeNdru (she’s baaaaak) for the beta and to MJ who completely fixed my argument scene. Also, thanks to everyone who keeps sending me feedback. I really appreciate it!






Chapter 13


Spike was feeling jumpy. He didn’t trust this.

Hank, or The Wanker Who Left, as Spike preferred, was joining him for drinks at Willy’s. And Spike didn’t even know where to start with all the things that were wrong with that.

He was pretty certain why Hank wanted to ‘bond’ with him. Hank probably figured there was still something going on with Buffy…ha. Not after yesterday.

So now he and Hank were going to a demon bar, the next flaw in the bonding plan. And, it was a bar where most of the demons hated his guts and only refrained from killing him because that would piss off the slayer…she wanted to do it herself, they said. He sighed and turned down Revello Drive. Hank had offered to meet him at the bar. Spike had told him, as tactfully as possible, that he was being an idiot and would get his arse kicked if he so much as set his big toe in Willy’s alone.

He wasn’t sure why he was still being nice, or what passed for nice in Spike’s books, to The Wanker Who Left. It wasn’t like he and Buffy were still together. That had been made perfectly clear when they’d talked yesterday. Well…sort of clear. As usual, Spike never really knew where he stood with her unless she was punching him in the nose.

But they had talked…finally. It had been almost civil for them. Awkward, but civil. After she had taken ten minutes to stammer and babble out an apology for the alley he had tried to say his own apology. And had put his foot in it.

“What do you mean, ‘trying to show me who I am’?”

“No…I…well, you live in a world of darkness and—”

“You thought you’d show me some?”

“Yea—well no…I mean…”

“So…our relationship was all about you
helping me. Taking care of Buffy, who, god knows, can’t do it without some man?”

Spike looked shocked. “No! Buffy…I loved you! I love you…I was—”

Buffy looked like she was about to fly into a rage and then her features softened. “Look, Spike, I know you’re trying to explain yourself. But things like the balcony…they’re…not my idea of what happens in a healthy relationship.”

Spike flinched. He went on the defensive. “Oh, so some of the more creative outings don’t meet with your standards? I’m a vampire. If Angel hadn’t managed to go out after one round, you’d have found out a long time ago that vampires tend to like things...creative.”

“Leave Angel out of this.”

“Why do you think the Great Poof picked Dru? It wasn’t for vanilla—”

“So, what? You’re trying to make yourself feel better by blaming your perversion on someone else?”

“I’M perverse? Remember who was standing in front of me!”

Buffy opened her mouth to scream something back…and stopped. This was how it always went with them. She took a deep breath, concentrating on anything but Spike’s clenched jaw and flashing eyes. She counted to ten. She pictured a cloudless sky in her mind. She tried again.

“I just don’t think we’re such a good idea right now, Spike. I don’t like what’s happened to me.”

Spike ground his teeth. “So, it’s all my fault, is it? Blame Spike. It’s what you’re good at!”

And Buffy didn’t even flinch. She’d looked up at him, sadly. “It’s not all, your fault, Spike. It would be so much easier to blame it all on you, but I can’t. I let you in, and you were right, I craved you. But…I have to get over this. I have to put my life together again.” She looked at her hands. “Besides…after what I did to you, I’m surprised you even want to be in the same room as me. I used you and I hurt you. Until that Buffy is gone…you deserve better. We both do.”

Spike looked at the floor. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete git.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “You do get some points, though. At least you stuck around.”

And with that she left, leaving Spike in his usual state after a Buffy-conversation: confused.



He stopped in the street outside The Summers’ residence and stared at the lights shining through the window. What the hell was he doing here?



*****



*What the hell am I doing here?* Hank asked himself. The bar was grungy, the clientele was sketchy at best, and Spike was looking dourly into a pint of beer. Hank eyed his own drink carefully. He’d asked for a rum and coke. Hopefully that’s what it was…

The walk to the war had been somber. Hank didn’t quite know how to open conversation. “So…you’re a vampire. What’s that like? And just what have you been doing with my daughter?” Not the best way to start the evening. He had such plans for tonight. The imparting of fatherly wisdom, the gentle probing for answers, the manly bonding over stories and fermented grain. And then he’d asked Dawn for some pointers.

“Spike’s like 130-something years old, Dad.”

Oh.

Scratch the imparting of fatherly wisdom, then.

Now he didn’t quite know what to think. 130-something years old…yet he looked younger and he seemed younger and…he definitely acted younger. So how did you talk to a 130-something year old vampire who was sort of seeing your daughter? How did you talk to a man who remembered both world wars because he was there? How did you talk to a man who probably knew why you stuck out your pinky when you drank tea? It was a pickle, sure enough.

Hank took a sip of his drink. Hmmm…not a bad rum and coke.

Spike caught the eye of the bar tender. “O neg, mate. And some of those chicken fingers.” He nodded in the direction of Hank.

Riiight…the blood thing. That was something Hank was going to have to get used to as well.

“What’s it like?” He asked before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Spike raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, they’re done in this spicy, buffalo sauce that’s pretty good.”

“I meant the—”

“I know what you meant.”

Hank took another sip of his drink. “So?”

Spike sighed. “So what do you want here? Some kind of manly chat? You learn what it’s like to be a vampire, I learn what it’s like to be a father, we bond over shared experiences and alcohol?”

“I—”

“Doesn’t work like that mate. There’s a bit of a gulf in the understanding, if you get my drift.”

Suddenly Spike looked…different. He grinned. It was mostly teeth.

Hank blinked and then raised an eyebrow of his own. Two could play this game. “So…what’s it like?”

Spike sighed again. “Is it too much to ask for a little tremor? A little shake? A little fear?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Spike. I’ve seen how you care for my girls. And you wouldn’t still be here if Buffy really thought you were a threat.”

Spike’s shoulders slumped as he shifted back into his human face. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Hank tried again. “So…?”

Spike took a sip of his drink. “Look, mate, ’s not something I can explain. Even if I did, ‘m not sure you’d understand. ‘M a demon. I drink blood. I used to enjoy killing humans. I can’t anymore because this plastic thing zaps me.”

“So that’s it? Why the hell should I trust you?”

Spike looked him squarely in the eye. “Because the chip doesn’t work on Buffy and she’s still breathing.”

Hank stared.

Spike finished off his beer and ordered another.

Hank ordered another rum and coke.

He stared at it.

He drank it.

He made a decision. “That’s not good enough.”

Spike stared at him in return. “What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”

“What you said. That’s not good enough. There’s another reason.”

Spike looked back across the bar. “What if there is? It’s personal.”

“You care for her?”

The drink paused at Spike’s lips. “I do.”

“Then what about what happened on the balcony at the Bronze?”

Spike choked. “She told you about that?”

“Not intentionally.”

Spike wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to explain himself. “Look, it wasn’t just me. An’ it’s not like she said no or anythin’. ‘Sides, I’m a vampire. It’s what we do.”

“I think you can do better than that. You took advantage of her?”

Spike turned sharply to him. “That’s one interpretation, but I think you’ll find that there was plenty of advantage being taken on both sides.”

“So that makes it okay?”

Hank’s tone was infuriating. Spike didn’t quite know what to do with it. It wasn’t accusatory. It was calm, leveled, and impossible not to answer. The man had missed his calling as a cop.

“It doesn’t make it okay.”

“I’m glad you said that. So, you are going to treat her better in the future.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not an issue, mate.” Spike took another sip of his beer. “We are officially not ‘seeing’ one another anymore.” Spike finished off his beer and ordered a glass of bourbon, which he proceeded to mix with his untouched blood.

Hank ignored the disgusting mixer and studied Spike’s body language. He was hurting, but he tried to hide it. And he thought he hid it a lot better than he really did.

Hank swirled his drink around. “I’m sorry, Spike. I know she meant a lot to you.”

Spike looked into his drink and then knocked it back. He turned to Hank, eyes almost challenging. “She means a lot to me.”




*****




“So…are you going to teach my youngest how to fight?”

Spike was working on his fourth of the foul blood-bourbon mixes. “Yeah, o’ course.”

“Buffy doesn’t want her to learn.”

“Course she doesn’t. Doesn’t want the Bit able to take care of herself.”

Hank raised an eyebrow.

“If the Bit can take care of herself then the Bit will take care o’ herself.”

Hank left the eyebrow raised. The two men sipped on their respective drinks. Silence ensued while Hank pondered Spike’s slightly cryptic statement. His thoughts turned darker.

“I just…I wish I had been there for my girls. I wish they’d had a father figure.

Spike suppressed a smirk. He’d have to play this one carefully if he wanted maximum reaction. Not evil his ass…

“Yeah…well…”

“Well, what?”

“Well, Buffy’s a slayer. And slayers always have a watcher.”

“A what-er?”

“A watcher. Y’know? An’ old bloke who looks after them? Trains ‘em and the like. Giles was always like Buffy’s father. She used to get his advice for everything. He helped her graduate from high school and kept her alive on the Hellmouth.”

Hank tried to suppress the wave of jealousy he felt. “So where is this Giles guy?”

“Rupert? Oh, he left not too long ago. He’ll be back soon, I’d wager. Can’t stay away from his Slayer for too long. Buffy’ll be thrilled when he is. He always managed to keep things together.”

“So then why’d he leave?”

Spike looked sidelong at Hank. “Because they all do.”



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