Chapter Thirty-one
Unaware of Xander’s belligerent stare, they entered the ice cream shop and the girls ordered hot fudge sundaes. Spike shook his head lightly when Buffy asked if he wanted some, going to secure a table near the street while the girls waited for their sundaes.
When everyone was sitting down and digging into their cool goodness, Willow looked up at Buffy timidly and said, “Uh, Buffy. I…we…have something to tell you. But you have to promise not to wig out on me, ‘K?”
“Okay, Wills. But I don’t know why you think I’d wig out just because you tell me Tara’s your girlfriend. I think it’s great that you have somebody in your life again.”
Buffy beamed at Willow’s astonished face and giggled while Tara smiled self-consciously and hid behind her long blond hair.
Willow turned to Spike accusingly. “You told her! I said I was going to do it.” Her lips tightened and her eyes flashed.
With visions of being turned into a frog lending haste to his words, Spike quickly defended himself. “I didn’t tell her anything, Red. Slayer’s not as dumb as she looks, you know.”
Buffy’s indignant, “hey!” and accompanying punch to his arm was no more serious than Spike’s comment about her looks and they were soon sharing her sundae and playing games with their tongues and the spoon that had Willow and Tara eating very quickly and standing up to go back to the dorm.
Spike smiled to himself at the arousal he could smell coming off both girls, but decided that wasn’t information he needed to share with the volatile blond beside him. He did, however, insist that she finish quickly so they could walk the two witches back to the dorm.
“It’s no trouble, Glinda,” he said when Tara protested that they would be fine. “We have to go in that direction anyway. ‘S’not like I don’t think you two couldn’t protect yourselves from most nasties out there, but as long as you can have bodyguards, you might as well enjoy it.”
The shy blond smiled her thanks at him and the small group continued toward the campus of Sunnydale U. Now that Willow no longer felt they had a secret to hide, she and Tara held hands as they strolled through the warm evening air, and Buffy found that after her initial surprise, she was very comfortable with the new couple.
Just before they reached the dorm, a group of college jocks that had clearly been drinking for most of the evening approached and sneered at the two witches. When the sneers turned to ugly remarks and the men surrounded the small group, Spike’s eyes began changing color and Buffy had to clutch his hand hard to keep him from tearing in to them.
The leader of the group cast a contemptuous eye on the athletic-looking, but not terribly imposing man with the three girls and decided he was nothing to worry about. He leaned over Willow, his beer-soaked breath making her cringe away as he leered at her.
“If you ladies are finding there’s a shortage of real men on campus, we can help you out. Can’t we, guys?” he gestured expansively at the men with him.
“We sure can,” said a bulky boy with bad skin as he fingered a strand of Tara’s hair. “Come with me, baby, and I’ll show you what you’re missing…”
“Leave her alone.” Willow’s voice was cold and contained, but oozed power. Spike and Buffy stared at her in shock as she took Tara’s hand and pulled the blushing girl away from the big man.
He attempted to shrug off the way her voice had made him drop his hand by blustering and posturing at Spike.
“Who’s going to make me?” he demanded, pushing his finger into Spike’s chest. To his surprise, the smaller man didn’t flinch; nor did his body move at all in spite of the fairly hard push.
“I ‘spect any one of us that wants to,” he replied mildly, earning a grateful smile from Buffy.
The boys laughed and with a disbelieving snort they moved closer to the small group, effectively surrounding them and cutting off any escape. The less drunk ones in the group frowned slightly at the obvious lack of fear or concern being expressed by these potential bullying victims, but most of them were oblivious.
Rather than cringing in fear as expected, the blond couple just looked at each other and grinned. The man rolled his shoulders and fell into a relaxed, but visibly anticipatory stance; balanced on the balls of his feet, hands hanging loosely at his sides. The small girl beside him gave herself a little shake and went into a similar pose. The two wiccas, still holding hands and staring hard at the man who had touched Tara, began a soft chant under their breath.
Spike looked at Buffy with disappointment. “Bollocks! Does this mean Red’ gonna spoil all our fun with some kinda spell?”
Buffy shrugged and continued to watch the grinning men as they crowded in. “I don’t know, but I don’t think your buddy there is going to wait to find out.” She jerked her head toward the man who had poked at Spike’s chest as he drew back his fist and swung. Unfortunately for him, Spike’s eager face was no longer there, although his hand was. He wrapped his long, cool fingers around the would-be bully’s fist and began to squeeze slowly.
The man’s indignant curse rapidly turned into a moan as he went down to his knees from the escalating pain in his hand. Before his friends could move to help him, Tara and Willow became surrounded by a shimmering wall of light that distracted everyone. The two girls, still holding hands, began to walk toward their dorm, ignoring the confused men standing in their way. Those that didn’t move away, quickly found themselves thrown to the ground by the forces surrounding the two witches.
When they got to the steps of the dorm, the field evaporated and Willow waved cheerfully to Spike and Buffy.
“Night, guys! Thanks for the escort home!”
“Anytime, pet,” Spike called as he continued to crush the now-whimpering man’s hand in his.
The less drunk members of the group had started backing away, having no desire be flung to the ground by invisible forces nor to have body parts crushed by the deceptively small man now grinning evilly at their friend. The original leader looked back and forth from Spike to the disappointed-looking blond girl bouncing on her toes beside him. When she made a “bring it on” gesture in response to his threat to hurt her if Spike didn’t let go of his friend, he accepted that they’d made a serious error in judgment when they stopped to harass the harmless looking group.
“Hey, hey,” he back pedaled, “no need to get nasty here. We were just having a little fun. Didn’t mean any harm.”
“That right?” Spike asked, letting go of the other man’s hand and allowing him to drop to the ground to sob and cradle his swollen fist. “You meant no harm when you decided to be abusive to those girls? Was that before or after you were planning to show them what “real men” you were?”
As he spoke, Spike was gliding toward the much larger man, his face changing as he approached. One look at the demon’s amber eyes and the fangs now visible in Spike’s mouth and what remained of the original group of drunks took off screaming like little girls. By the time Buffy whirled him around to look at him, Spike was wearing William’s handsome human face and he just smirked at her irritated expression.
“You flashed some fang at them, didn’t you, you big dope?“ she hissed at him. “Don’t try to pretend you didn’t,” she added as he tried to maintain an air of innocence.
“Don’ know what you’re talking about, Slayer,” he said cheerfully. “All I did was reason with the big git.”
A groan from the ground behind Buffy reminded them that the young man Spike had injured was still there and Buffy swallowed hard as she turned to look at him. He was trying to get to his feet, but without the use of his injured hand to help push himself up, he just kept falling back down. Spike and Buffy watched with mild interest for a few minutes then with a muttered, “oh, for bloody hell’s sake,” the vampire reached down and grabbed the man by his good arm, yanking him to his feet and holding on until he stopped swaying.
“Prob’ly ought to get that looked at, mate,” he said blandly as he released his hold on the thoroughly confused man.
With a tentative nod, the lone remaining frat member took off after his long-gone friends, whimpering every time he jarred his hand as he jogged after them.
“You couldn’t let me handle it, could you?” Buffy grumbled as he continued to beam in satisfaction. Your first night out with me and you have to let a bunch of drunk frat boys know that William is a vampire.”
“Come on, pet. Those stupid gits aren’t going to be telling anybody that two little girls surrounded themselves with a force field and walked away from them. Or that one bloke chased them all off because his teeth were a little longer than theirs. And if they did, everyone would say they’d been drinkin’.
“Anyway,” he huffed, “how would it have been better for them to be tellin’ people a skinny little blond kicked the stuffing out of them? Either way, somebody’d be busted.”
“So much for secret identities, I guess,” she admitted ruefully. “I’d just hoped William could hang on to his a little longer than that. That’s all.”
Spike put his arms around her and kissed her pouting mouth as he said, “William would have stepped up too, love. He never would have let ladies be insulted like that.”
“Really?” she looked up hopefully, knowing the truth in his words. “He would have fought those guys?”
“Hell, yeah! He would. Course, he would’ve got his arse handed to him,” he admitted, ducking his head. “But he would’ve tried. Stupid git.”
“I don’t think he’s stupid,” she said softly, leaning into him.
“That right, pet?” he purred in her ear, pulling her closer. “What do you think he is?”
“I think he’s sweet and brave and romantic and—“
“And devilishly handsome and sexy?” he interrupted hopefully.
“And incredibly full of himself!” she laughed, pushing him away.
“So, you don’t think ‘m sexy?” he asked, sticking his soft lower lip out in a pout. He ducked his head and peered at her from under his thick lashes, somehow managing to appear both childish and mouth-wateringly good looking at the same time.
Buffy just shook her head at him and began walking away from the dorm toward his apartment building.
(Right then. She’s coming home with you tonight. Don’t push your luck you bloody idiot.)
He hastened to catch up with her, taking her hand when he did and linking their fingers together. They finished the walk to his building in companionable silence, enjoying the chance to feel like a normal couple for a brief period of time. A normal couple who were both thinking about the big bed awaiting them in the penthouse apartment and the time they had left before morning sent Buffy to class while Spike slept.
Chapter Thirty-two
By the end of the week, Buffy and Spike had settled into a routine in which she went to her classes and ran errands in the daytime, then stopped in her dorm room to pick up a change of clothes and the books she would need for the next day before walking to Spike’s apartment. Although he had done his best to stock the apartment with the things he thought she might need, it was still becoming annoying that she had to bring a bag with her every day so as to be ready for the next morning.
Inevitably, she would forget something important like lip gloss or eye liner and have to run back for it in the morning, or buy another one to keep at his apartment. When she got up one morning and realized she hadn’t brought any clean underwear, she sighed and kicked her bag in frustration.
“S’matter, pet?” came a sleepy voice from the bed.
“Nothing important,” she growled. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’m just cranky Buffy this morning. I don’t have any clean underwear with me. And I haven’t done any laundry all week, so I doubt I even have any back at my room.”
Spike leaned up on his elbow, wanting to suggest the remedy for her dilemma, but afraid to upset her by breaking his promise not to push the issue. He settled for offering, “Why don’t you bring your laundry with you this afternoon, love, and we’ll do it when you get here? There’s a washer and dryer in the room right down the hall.”
“I could do that, I guess. It’s a pretty big bag, though – or at least it will be when I collect all my dirty clothes from the floor of my dorm room.” She smiled at him apologetically. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to drive me back over tonight after patrol to get it?”
“No problem, pet.” Striving to be very casual, and not looking directly at her, he added carefully, “You might want to think about grabbing anything else you don’t want to be carrying back and forth all the time, while you’re at it. Your books, maybe? Stuff like that.”
He carefully kept his eyes on the bed clothes while he waited for her reply. He heard her heart beat increase, and braced himself for the expected negative response. His undead heart leaped when, instead, she said in a soft voice, “I guess that makes sense. It’s hard trying to live two places at the same time.”
He looked up to find her eyes on his face while she watched for his reaction.
“Does that mean…?”
“Do you want me here? All the time, I mean?”
Spike couldn’t believe the trace of anxiety in her voice. He leaped out of bed and crossed the room to her, completely forgetting he was naked. He ran his hand down her jaw, tipping her chin up as he looked down at her.
“You know I do, Buffy. All the time. Forever.”
He leaned down to kiss her and they both laughed when his burgeoning erection poked her in the stomach.
“All of me does,” he smirked, pulling her tightly against his body and enjoying the warm pressure on his cock.
Buffy giggled and slipped her hand down between them to give him a little pat. When he drew his breath in with a hiss, she turned the pat into a caress that made him groan and begin pulling her back toward the bed. He flopped down on his back, pulling her down on top of him and planting small, nibbling kisses on her neck.
She let herself succumb to the heat that flooded her body for several minutes, then reluctantly pushed herself up and away from him.
“I really have to go – I haven’t been to this class since last week. And it’s your fault,” she added when he began to pout.
“S’not my fault I wake up wanting you,” he growled, trying to pull her back within reach of his lips. He’d learned that if he kept his mouth on her almost anywhere, she would soon give in to her body’s urges and they could start the day the way he wanted to.
Buffy, however, had also learned her lesson over the previous several days, and she deftly avoided his attempts to kiss her, batting his hands away when he tried to pull her back down.
“Cut it out! You’re the one who keeps insisting I have to get my college education, Mr. I-went-to-Oxford.”
“You just going to leave me like this, Slayer?” he gestured to his throbbing hard-on and tried to look pitiful.
Buffy got a wicked gleam in her eye and moving too fast even for him, she said, “No, I’m going to leave you like this!” dipping down to run her tongue up his cock and plant a kiss on the tip.
Laughing at his groaned, “bloody hell!” and the glare he sent in her direction, she danced away from the bed and blew him another kiss.
“See you this afternoon,” she said cheerfully as she went out the door still laughing at the muttered British profanity coming from the bedroom.
Once she was gone, Spike stopped swearing and settled back against the pillows with a smile on his face. As much as he would have liked a morning shag, the fact that she could be so playful with him, not to mention the fact that she was obviously working her way toward moving in, made it impossible for him to be really angry.
Reaching over the edge of the bed, he picked up the thong underwear she had discarded the night before and held it to his nose. As he inhaled the heady scent, he stroked himself vigorously and was soon much more comfortable. With a satisfied smile, he rolled over and went back to sleep, still clutching the little scrap of lace in his hand.
*********
As Buffy and Spike worked their way around Sunnydale’s cemeteries that evening, finding little in the way of newly-risen vampires to slay and only one harmless-looking demon that scuttled away when it saw them coming, they talked about Anya and Xander. Spike carefully avoided saying anything about the developing relationship between Anya and her surrogate father. He was surprised, then, when Buffy asked suddenly, “So, do you think Giles has a thing for Anya? And isn’t that kind of…weird and…and…icky?”
“Why would it be …ok, I just can’t use the word ‘icky’,” he grimaced. “Why would you think it was weird, pet? S’not like the demon girl isn’t really a thousand years older than he is. He studies demons; she was one. Seems like a perfect match to me.”
“I don’t know. I guess just because she seems like she’s my age and Giles is…well, he’s old.”
The vampire didn’t try to hide his grin as he told her, “You wait about twenty years, pet, and then try to tell me he’s old.”
Buffy rolled her eyes at him, then suddenly sobered.
“What are chances I’m even going to be around twenty years from now?” she asked quietly. “I’m already past my expiration date. I’ll never know what it means to be old – or even middle-aged.”
“You’re gonna be around then because I’ll dust before I let anything happen to you.”
He gripped her arms so tightly it hurt as he stopped her and forced her to look into his eyes.
“Do you hear me, Slayer? You have a bodyguard for the rest of your life. I’ll be watchin’ your back every night and kicking your cute little arse if you take any unnecessary chances. You are going to be the longest-lived Slayer ever.”
Buffy tried to make light of the intense emotion radiating off the vampire as he held her arms with desperation.
“William the Bloody is now a Slayer bodyguard. Who would have guessed it?” she said teasingly.
“Anybody who knows how much I love you,” he countered. “Anybody who knows me and how I take care of the people I love.”
Buffy flashed back to how he cared for Drusilla when they first came to Sunnydale; how she was able to use his love for the mad vampire to gain the release of humans intended for food and how he had risked so much to save her from Angelus’ insane attempt to end the world.
“Yes, you do, don’t you?” she said softly, going up on her toes to kiss him lightly.
“I do and I will. Forever,” he promised, leaning into her kiss and sliding his arms around her back. They remained together for several minutes, basking in the comfort of having each other.
Reluctantly, he let her go after a while and said gruffly, “Best go check in with the Watcher and the rest of your little Scoobie pals, pet, so we have time to go get your stuff before it’s too late. You need to get more sleep than you’ve been getting lately.”
Smothering a yawn, Buffy said, “And whose fault is that? Huh? Who keeps me up all night by giving me happies until I’m too tired to move?”
He smirked at her with pride. “Didn’t hear you complainin’ last night, Slayer. What was it you said? Oh yeah, something along the lines of, ‘can we do that again?’”
Blushing, she turned away from him and started toward the Magic Box.
“I was just saying that so your feelings wouldn’t be hurt,” she threw over her shoulder, giggling at the indignation on his face. When he growled and started after her, she broke into a run, the vampire in hot pursuit, threatening to keep her awake and screaming his name for the next three days straight.
They burst into the Magic Box, laughing and, in Buffy’s case, flushed from the run. Willow and Tara greeted them with indulgent smiles and even Giles looked pleased to see his Slayer is such good spirits. She quickly reported the night’s patrol events, waiting impatiently while Giles jotted them down for his Watcher’s Diary.
Even though he was no longer employed by the Council of Watchers, life-long habits were hard to break and he still kept meticulous records of the events on the Hellmouth. The only concession he’d made to their status as disobedient Slayer and fired Watcher was to keep his own private journal in which he recorded things he didn’t want to share with the Watcher’s Council. Which included the fact that his Slayer had been claimed by William the Bloody and was now romantically involved with him.
If he’d had any doubt about the strength of their relationship, the carefree joy on their faces when they burst through the door banished it. Watching Buffy’s casual banter with the snarky vampire and Spike’s unabashed adoration shining through his deliberate attempts to rile her up, he had to admit that they seemed to be very much in love. He felt the last vestiges of concern about the relationship slipping away as he watched Spike’s interaction with the witches and listened to their story about the previous night’s events.
(There are worse things than having a master vampire of Spike’s reputation and prowess guarding a Slayer’s back. Somehow I suspect Spike will do a much better job of assisting her in her duties than Angel ever did. He’s doing it out of love, not some hope of reward or redemption for his past sins.)
Giles walked over to the table to join the younger people as their conversation turned from the band expected at the Bronze that weekend to speculation about which of Spike’s neighbors were demons and which ones were unsuspecting humans.
“I doubt any of the humans in our – my – building don’t know who else lives there,” the vampire offered dryly. “ S’not like they’re stupid; just open-minded. Most of them are there because they’re friends with somebody already living there. Don’t think you could stay friends with a demon for too long without figuring out something was up.”
“It just seems strange,” Willow said quietly. “To think we could have lived here so long and not figured out that we see demons every day – or at least, every night. And we’re supposed to be the experts!”
Spike’s derisive snort brought glares all around and he grinned in delight at having provoked a reaction. Buffy poked him in the ribs in retaliation for his deliberate baiting of her friends and discovered to her delight that he was ticklish. She was soon chasing him around the room giggling and sending him into laughing profanity every time she caught him. When he turned the tables and began to tickle her back, she quickly called a truce and retreated to the table, hiding behind Willow and Tara who jokingly threatened Spike with flying splinters of wood if he didn’t leave Buffy alone.
Giles watched in bemused wonder at the antics of the master vampire, known for having killed two Slayers, and the girl born to kill him. Watching them running around the shop, there was no way to distinguish either of them from any other young people in Sunnydale. While he knew that Spike was a good 100 years older than he was himself, the vampire’s mannerisms, clothing, and youthful face let him blend easily with the college students at the table. And, the high energy level and constant need for amusement contributed to the illusion of youthfulness that surrounded him.
Shaking his head at the contradiction in front of him, the ex-watcher went to fix himself a cup of tea. While he was in the tiny kitchen, the bell jingled and Anya came in hurriedly. She glanced around the room quickly and then visibly relaxed as she headed for the kitchen. Giles greeted her with a warm smile, standing up straighter and running a hand through his hair. He and Anya were so busy smiling at each other that they completely missed the knowing looks going around the table.
Giles fixed the ex demon a cup of tea and they both moved back into the main room, taking their places at the table and joining the desultory conversation now going on again. Anya quickly joined the discussion about the human-looking demons living in Spike’s building, contributing what she knew about those that actually looked like humans vs those that could take that appearance, but, like vampires, could look otherwise if they chose.
Giles was soon busy, happily copying down descriptions of the various humanoid demons and mentally reviewing which ones he now realized he had seen and done business with through the years. The atmosphere around the table was relaxed and friendly, if heavy enough on the estrogen to have the vampire and watcher exchange the occasional male-bonding look of disbelief at some of the comments.
The comfortable atmosphere in the room lasted until the bell jingled again and they all looked up to see Xander stomp into the shop and walk right to Anya’s chair. He glared down at her, breathing hard, and everyone flinched back at the reek of alcohol on his breath.
“Where the hell did you go?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically, as he could clearly see that he had found her. “I told you not to leave. We weren’t through talking yet!”
“I was quite through, Xander,” she answered primly. “You were being verbally abusive and unreasonable and I saw no reason to stay there any longer.”
The angry brunette looked around the table as though hoping to find support, but encountered looks ranging from sympathetic, from Willow, to cold and threatening. Surprisingly, the threatening look was not coming from the vampire sitting behind Buffy, but from the suddenly dangerous-looking man sitting near Anya.
He changed his tone, saying in a wheedling voice, “Ahn, I just want to talk to you. We need to work this out. You know you can’t get along without me to help you. You don’t know enough about being human yet. You need me to keep you from saying stupid things and making dumb mistakes.”
“I don’t think so, Xander,” she replied as pleasantly as possible for someone who had just been completely insulted. “I have a job, friends “– she bestowed a dazzling smile on Giles - ”my own place to live. What I need is some space to find out who I am and what I want to do with this new life. Why can’t you let me have that?” she finished plaintively.
Instead of answering her, he grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her out of the chair and toward him, ignoring her gasp of pain and fear. Spike and Buffy immediately stood up, but in spite of their superior reaction times, Giles was already between the two former lovers. His face and voice were pure Ripper as he buried his fingers between the younger man’s neck and shoulder, saying through gritted teeth, “That will be quite enough.” He squeezed until Xander released Anya’s arm with a very unmanly cry. The girl cringed away from him, scuttling behind Giles fearfully.
Without releasing the startled boy’s shoulder, Giles began dragging him toward the door of the shop. He opened the door with his free hand and threw the protesting Scooby out, ordering him to “Go home and sober up and do not come back here until you are ready to behave like a gentleman. And stay away from Anya,” he added coldly. “She has made it clear she does not wish to belong to you anymore. Respect her wishes or suffer the consequences.”
Willow stage-whispered to Buffy, “Is that Giles-speak for I’m going to kick your ass?”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” she whispered back, feeling somewhat proud of her watcher even though it was her friend he was manhandling.
Spike watched with interested eyes as the other Brit returned to the back of the shop and began rubbing Anya’s arm and worrying over the bruises on it. A little nudge from Buffy, and Willow and Tara stood up to join the two blonds in saying a hasty “good-night.” As they left, they could hear Anya complaining that she couldn’t go home as Xander was likely to be camped out in front of her apartment building. Spike’s vampire hearing picked up the watcher’s murmured answer and he puzzled the three girls with the big grin that spread across his face.
The walk back to the dorm was uneventful this time, and Buffy was soon in her room collecting her dirty laundry as well as deciding what belongings to take with her when Spike got back with his car. She told herself that as long as she left something in the dorm room, she wasn’t technically moving in with the vampire, but as soon as she picked up Mr. Gordo and added him to the pile of things for Spike to carry out, she knew she was kidding herself.
By the time Spike was back and had begun carrying bags of clothes and boxes of books out to fill the Desoto’s large trunk, Buffy had left very little behind to indicate someone lived on her side of the room. As she picked up the last bag of clothing and added her jewelry box to the stack, it slipped, falling and allowing the contents to roll across the floor. Spike swooped down to help her pick things up, pausing when he came across the ring he’d given her during their “engagement”.
“You kept it, huh?” he asked nonchalantly, holding it out to her.
She blushed and took it, closing her fist around it tightly. “Yes,” she admitted quietly. “I kept it. I wore it the whole time you were gone – but it was too big to stay on my thumb, so I had to put it on a chain and wear it around my neck.”
“Why’d you stop wearing it?”
She blushed again and looked up at him with a guilty smile. “I was afraid if you saw it I had it, you’d want it back and I didn’t wan-”
“Never,” he said simply.
“So you don’t mind if I wear it sometimes, then?” she asked, already sure of the answer but wanting to hear him say it.
“I would be the happiest man in the world,” he said, paraphrasing his speech when he’d asked her to marry him during the spell.
Forgoing the opportunity to point out that he wasn’t a man, Buffy smiled happily and slipped the ring onto its chain before hanging it around her neck. She didn’t notice Spike’s thoughtful silence as they picked up the last of her things and by the time they got to his building he was his usual snarky self.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Trying to get this story up by the end of the week - but it depends on how complicated RL gets between now and Friday.