Chapter Five
Spike slept comfortably in Buffy’s bed until he was awakened in the afternoon by a timid knock on the door and Joyce poking her head in.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Spike, but I need to ask—“
“’S fine, Joyce. What do you need?” Spike sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was very grateful he’d kept his jeans on as he’d awakened sporting a substantial erection from having had his face burrowed into Slayer scented sheets all day.
“Angel – he’s insisting he’s fine now and we should let him loose. I don’t know—“
Spike snorted. Now that he was awake, he could hear his grandsire bellowing for him to come down and release him so that he could help Buffy. Rolling his eyes at the whining tone in Angel’s voice, he stood up and assured Joyce she could leave for the gallery and that he would take care of the vampire chained in the basement.
He took his time putting on his boots and shirt, picking up his duster from the back of the chair as he walked out of the Slayer’s frilly bedroom. He smiled when he got to the kitchen and saw that Joyce had put a mug of blood in the microwave for him.
(Slayer’s mum knows a good thing when she sees it. I hope it rubs off on her daughter.)
With a wicked grin, he poured some cold blood into a cup for Angel and, taking his own warmed breakfast with him, he opened the door to the basement and carried the two cups downstairs. He stopped at the bottom, sitting on the steps and sipping his own blood as he studied his grandsire.
Angel glared back at him and growled, “I don’t know what you’re playing at here, Spike, but you need to let me out of these chains. Now.”
“Now, why would I want to do that, Peaches? Seems to me the last time you were loose you were threatenin’ to eat the nice lady who fixed me my breakfast.”
“And that’s another thing! What are you doing here? Did you stay here last night? Why do you smell like Buffy?”
“I’m here to keep Drac and any other unworthy vamps,” he paused to sneer at the fuming vampire chained to the wall, “away from the Slayer and her mum. I guess I smell like Buffy cause I was sleeping in her bed…”
Spike smirked and then laughed out loud as Angel threw himself against the restraints with a roar of rage. He let the older vamp wear himself out raging against the chains before he added, “’Course the Slayer wasn’t in it at the time, so it wasn’t as much fun as it could have been.”
Angel spoke through gritted teeth. “What are you up to, Spike? I know Joyce doesn’t have the good sense to kick you out and dis-invite you, but what are you doing sleeping in Buffy’s room?”
“I’m her bodyguard until Drac gets what’s comin’ to him. And, apparently until you go back to fun city.”
“YOU? YOU’RE her bodyguard? William the Bloody? Slayer of Slayers? Sing me another one, Spike. Her watcher would never let you near her. Let me out of here. I need to talk to Giles.”
“The Watcher is who asked me to keep an eye on her. Don’t think he’s likely to extend that invite to you after the Slayer tells him about last night’s little performance.”
“That wasn’t me and you know it! I was under some sort of spell…Something let the demon out and I couldn’t control him.”
“See, Peaches. That’s the difference between you and me. I CAN control mine; and that’s why the Watcher trusts me to keep his Slayer safe until she dusts that gypsy wanker.”
“I don’t trust you! I don’t want you near her. And if I catch you in her bedroom while she’s in it….” Angel’s eyes glowed golden as he glared at his rebellious grandchilde.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Spike shook his head in mock sadness. “The only person who can decide who she has in her bedroom-- or her life-- is the Slayer herself. Or her mum!” he added hastily as Joyce came cautiously down the stairs.
Giving the blond vampire a smack on the back of his head that caused Angel’s jaw to drop, Joyce said firmly, “And don’t you forget it, William. I still know where the axe is, you know.”
“Yes, Mum,” he grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “Was just trying to get ol’ Peaches riled up.”
Joyce cast a suspicious eye at the glowering vampire chained to her basement wall and whispered, “Is he still all…you know?”
“I can hear you, Joyce,” Angel said with a sigh, slumping back against the wall. “And, no, I’m not still all…whatever. I’m fine and if you will tell the bleached moron to let me loose, I’ll get out of your hair as soon as the sun goes down.”
“Gonna have to talk to the Slayer about that, Grandpa. I’ll let you know what she says.”
Spike laughed as he accompanied Joyce back up to the kitchen to the accompaniment of blood curdling snarls from behind him.
“Oh my God! Is he--?”
“Nah, he’s just brassed off that we didn’t rush to let him loose just because he said so. He’ll get over it.”
After showing Spike where the Watcher’s number was on the speed dial, Joyce reluctantly left for the gallery and the showing that was scheduled for the evening. Spike picked up the phone and punched in the Watcher’s number, still grinning at the angry bellowing coming from the basement.
“Yes?” The Watcher’s voice was tired and testy.
“Slayer there?” Spike didn’t bother to identify himself and was gratified when Buffy’s voice came through the receiver.
“Spike? What’s going on? Where’s Mom?”
“She’s fine, Slayer. On her way to the shop for some fancy art show or somethin’. Peaches seems to be himself again, and he’s whining to be let loose. Told him I’d talk to you about it.”
“What do you think?” Buffy’s question left him shocked into silence. She was asking HIS opinion? If he’d needed proof that she was not herself, he was sure he’d just heard it.
“Spike?” the impatience was palpable. “Do you think he’s all right or not?”
He sighed heavily and answered with reluctance, “Yeah, Slayer, I think he’s his usual broody souled self again. He says somethin’ mojo’d his demon out and he couldn’t put it back. Guess that’s how Drac got him to okay his plan for you. He knew if the soul was in charge the poof’d come after him for touching you.”
“So, where’d the demon go?”
He chuckled. “Think you beat it out of him, pet. It’s gone back into hidin’ until he’s back in LA.”
“Okay, fine. Let him loose, and tell him to get his ass back to LA or I’ll kick it again.”
“Be my pleasure, luv.” He took a glance outside at the darkening sky and asked, “D’you want to stay there until I can come get you?”
“No, we decided we’re going to let Xander lead me to Drac. Giles will follow us, just in case. Let Angel go, and then meet us in the parking lot. You’ll have to stay back with Giles until I get inside.”
“No toy soldiers as back up?” He kept his voice calm and controlled, trying to sound like all he cared about was knowing how much help they had.
“No,” she said shortly. “We don’t know where Riley is and Xander won’t say. That’s the reason we’re going there tonight. To get Riley out.”
“All right, luv. I’ll leave as soon as I let the Great Poof loose. You wait for me, Slayer.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Spike.” Buffy did not sound very much like the Slayer and he could hear the worry in her voice as she readied herself to rescue her boy friend.
Biting back the retort he wanted to make, and smothering his growl at her risking her life for the soldier, he just said quietly, “Please, Buffy. Just wait for me, luv.”
Her tone softened and she whispered, “Just hurry,” as she hung up on him.
With a frustrated snarl, he raced down the stairs and threw the keys to the restraints at Angel.
“Here, you bloody wanker. Get yourself loose and get out of Sunnydale. I’ve got to go.”
“Go where?” Angel growled as he began to take off the restraints chaining him to the wall.
“Got to go do my job. Unlike you, being around Drac doesn’t take me back to being –oh, wait – I never was an uncontrollable demon. That was you. Slayer says to get yourself out of Sunnydale before she stakes your arse.”
“She didn’t say that, Spike. And if she did, it’s only because you’ve been feeding her lies.”
Spike stopped his return trip up the basement stairs to turn and stare at Angel in complete amazement.
“Peaches, you tried to kill her mum last night. I know that soul has done you some damage, but are you tellin’ me you don’t remember that?”
“I remember it,” he mumbled. “But she knows it wasn’t really me. She’ll forg-“
Spike started to retort, then shook his head and just continued up the stairs. Ignoring the sounds of the other vampire freeing himself and shouting for him to wait, he went out the door, coat over his head, and ducked into the nearest manhole. Ten minutes later, he poked his head up cautiously and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the sun had dropped far enough for him to emerge. He sprinted to the parking lot of Giles’ building, only to find it empty. Snarling to himself, he quickly sniffed the air, searching for some trace of the Slayer’s scent.
Five minutes later he picked up the faintest trace of her unique scent and thanked the Powers that he’d had the past two days to sleep surrounded by Buffy’s essence, knowing he probably would have missed it had it not been so familiar to him. He ran along as fast as he could without losing the trail, grumbling to himself the whole time about “impatient bints” and “wankers not worth saving”. Just as he arrived in front of the castle that he was sure hadn’t been there last week, and prepared to join the impatient Watcher in entering the building, he was knocked to the ground.. His last thought before briefly losing consciousness was that he was going to fail Buffy when he’d promised to keep her safe.
Inside the old dog pound now masquerading as a castle, Buffy was having an argument with the Romanian vampire about the nature of her power and the likelihood of her joining his “family” willingly. When she continued to deny that she had any interest in exploring her “darker nature” with him, he went to a chess set tastefully decorating a small table and picked a piece from the white set. As he held the piece in his hand and fondled it, she found herself shuddering as though he was touching her.
“Do you see this, my sweet slayer?” he asked, showing her the queen he was holding in his hand. “This could be you. My consort. My queen.”
He gently stroked the carved wooden figure and Buffy trembled, feeling his hands as though they were traveling over her own body. She shuddered again as he laughed and caressed the object in his hand, smiling at the disgusted and unwillingly lustful look on her face.
He closed his hand on the small queen and Buffy felt her breath become labored as her chest was squeezed by an invisible giant hand. Spike! Where are you? You promised me… She fought unconsciousness as long as she could, but finally succumbed to the lack of oxygen and collapsed where she was standing.
******************
When Spike’s senses came back, he glanced around fully expecting to see Dracula’s human or vamp minions surrounding him. Instead, he found himself facing an angry, fully souled Angel.
“Did you really think I was going to let you go riding in to the rescue, Spike?” He said the younger vampire’s name as though it was a curse. “Did you really think I would let you anywhere near her?”
“This isn’t about you, Peaches. It’s about keeping Buffy from becoming one of that wanker’s undead whores. So, either help me, or get the bleeding hell out of my way!”
He jumped to his feet, slipping into game face as he saw his grandsire shake his head and allow his own fangs to descend. Angel placed himself between Spike and the open door, growling, “Buffy can take care of herself until I get there. She doesn’t need help from the likes of you.”
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Angel?” The Watcher’s voice had an icy edge and he cradled the crossbow in his arms as he stood beside the younger vampire.
“What’s wrong with me is that I don’t want Buffy thinking she owes this pain in the ass anything.”
“So, you’d rather she died?” Giles’ voice was a mixture of disbelief and disgust. He had never really forgiven the souled vampire for killing Jenny Calandar and to hear him casually dismiss Spike’s proven ability to keep his surrogate daughter from Dracula’s control because he was worried she would be grateful to the wrong vampire, made his hand itch to cock the weapon in his hands and send a bolt into Angel’s chest.
“Go inside, Watcher. If you get a chance to put a bolt through that piece of Romanian shite, you won’t hurt my feelings.”
Spike’s voice was quiet and controlled and the watcher found it more chilling than any of the ranting he’d heard from the blond vampire through the years. He looked back and forth between the two master vampires facing off with equally determined expressions and nodded briefly.
“I’ll do what I can,” he said quietly. “Don’t be long.”
“Don’t plan to be.”
As Giles slipped around Angel and into the hallway, he heard the sounds of snarls and growls as the two vampires came together, fists and fangs clashing. He entered what seemed to be the main room and froze in horror as Dracula raised his head from the Slayer’s throat, blood dripping from his fangs. He smiled at the Watcher, enjoying the sight of his brides stripping the man of his crossbow and dragging him to the ground to run their mouths and hands all over his body.
Contrary to how it appeared to Giles horrified gaze, the vampire had not drained Buffy, but simply sampled her blood again while she lay on the table far enough under his thrall to be unable to move and not so far that he couldn’t see the fear and loathing in her eyes.
“Giles!” She managed to get out. “Spike?”
“Coming,” the older man replied before he lost all interest in anything but the cool bodies crawling all over him.
Outside, Angel was discovering that the unruly fledgling he’d disciplined so often over a hundred years ago had matured into a master vampire with not only superior strength, but a joy in the fight itself that made him a more than formidable opponent. When a particularly powerful kick to Angel’s chest sent the larger vampire slamming into the side of the building and stunning him into temporary immobility he realized that Buffy might well have chosen the right bodyguard after all. To his surprise, rather than follow up with a killing blow, his grandchilde simply whirled and ran into the building, leaving his defeated grandsire to slowly pull himself erect and stagger into the building after him.
Buffy hung on to her Watcher’s answer that Spike was on his way, fighting grimly against the old vamp’s insistence that she taste his blood and learn what awaited her as his consort. He was still pressing his bleeding wrist against her clenched lips when she heard a familiar drawl behind her.
“Found some friends there, have you Rupes?” The amusement in Spike’s voice when he saw the staid Watcher writhing under the attentions of Dracula’s brides was a welcome sound and Buffy immediately redoubled her efforts to avoid the blood being forced on her.
Her muffled cry brought Spike’s attention to the bloody scene in the center of the room and his expression changed immediately from amusement to fear and rage. With a bellowed, “Buffy!” he crossed the space in one bound, shoving the older vampire off the table and across the room.
“Come on, Slayer, Snap out of it.” He pulled her up, running his tongue over the bleeding holes in her neck as he had the last time and using his thumb to wipe Dracula’s blood off her still rigidly clenched lips. She gave him a grateful look, but remained limp in his arms. Turning his head toward the still-stunned dark haired vampire Spike snarled, “Release her. Now!”
With a resigned shrug, Dracula waved his hand and said dismissively, “Very well. I release her. She is too stubborn to make a good bride anyway.”
Buffy turned her eyes on Spike, taking in the cuts and bruises left from his fight with Angel.
“You look like hell,” she said shakily, smiling at him in spite of her words.
“You’re welcome, pet,” he grinned, pushing her bloody hair off her face. “Are you alright now?”
“I’ll be better when I’ve turned that slimy piece of dead meat into dust,” she growled, glaring at the vampire just bringing himself to his feet and trying to maintain an air of dignity.
“Look at me, my queen. Look into my eyes—“ Dracula’s voice choked off as Spike landed in front of him, punching him in the nose and blackening both eyes.
“Didn’t I tell you to keep your bloody fangs to yourself around her? And that goes for your stinking thrall, too. Try it again and your castle’s going be on the market as a fixer-upper.”
Spike shook the taller vamp, banging his head against the wall until he felt a small hand on his arm.
“Uh, Spike?”
Dropping back into his human face, he turned to look at the girl standing beside him holding a stake. Abashed, he let go of the other vamp and stepped back.
“Sorry, pet. I didn’t mean to get in your business. I just—“
“You were just doing your job…bodyguard. Now it’s time for me to do mine,” she added grimly as she plunged her stake into the famed vampire’s chest.
She watched in satisfaction as the dust fell to the floor and turned to leave, tossing her hair behind her. Spike touched her arm, nodding his head back at the pile of dust and raising an eyebrow. Buffy sighed and nodded, turning back around and waiting impatiently as the dust particles reformed. As soon as they had reassembled themselves into the shape of the world’s most famous vampire the Slayer pushed her stake up against his chest and said, “Do you think we’ve never seen your movies?” She drove the stake in again, watched the dust fall and folded her arms.
She tapped her foot until the particles started to pull together again then snapped, “I’m standing right here.” The particles immediately fell back to the floor and she took her foot and scattered them around before walked over to where the brides were just looking up from her Watcher’s bemused face to see what was going on.
She staked two of them before they had time to shriek, and dusted the last one as Spike caught the fleeing female vamp and held her still for the Slayer’s stake. The two blonds looked down at the still-dazed but increasingly embarrassed watcher, watching in amusement as he tried to straighten his clothing without being obvious about it. They simultaneously burst out laughing, Buffy turning away to give the man some privacy to get himself together. Spike continued to grin at his fellow Brit until Buffy poked him to get his attention.
“Leave him alone, Spike. We need to go find Xander and Ri—“
“You’re still bleedin’, luv,” Spike’s eyes were riveted on the blood still trickling down the side of her neck and without realizing it, he licked his lips slowly.
Buffy tilted her head and watched him with a small smile before moving her hair back and offering her throat.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Fix it, Spike.”
The vampire gaped at her. “Not sure how I feel about this,” he growled as he leaned toward her. “The Slayer offering me her bleeding throat to lick like I’m as harmless as a pet dog. Should I be offended or honored?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d be turned on,” she whispered as his cool tongue ran up her neck.
“Oh, that was a given, luv,” he purred, licking the now-closed bites long past the point where they stopped oozing. “Does this mean it wasn’t the thrall talkin’ when you invited me into your bed?”
Before Buffy could answer, Angel burst into the room shouting, “I KNEW he was up to something! Step away from him, Buffy. I’ll save you!”
Angel rushed toward the two surprised blonds, who turned their heads to stare at him. His clearly murderous charge toward Spike was interrupted by Giles’ sitting up suddenly, causing the enraged vampire to trip over him and crash to the floor at Buffy’s feet.
“Angel? I thought I told you to go back to LA?” She whirled on Spike angrily. “Didn’t you tell him what I said?”
“I told ‘im, luv. Guess he didn’t believe me.”
Angel looked up at them, bewilderment clearly written on his face.
“Buffy, he bit you! I just saw him licking your blood off.”
The Slayer rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, Angel. DRACULA bit me. You know, the vampire that you said could have me? The one Spike has been protecting me from this week? Spike was just stopping the bleeding. Which, if you’d waited to find out, might have kept you from looking like such as ass.”
“Got to say though,” Buffy said, turning back to glare at the blond vampire smirking at Angel, “You took your own sweet time getting here. I thought I told you to hurry? Giles came in a long time before you did.”
“Sorry, pet,” he answered shortly. “I had to get past an obstacle that was set up in front of the door.”
“What obstacle? I didn’t see any-“ She looked back and forth from his banged up face and Angel’s equally battered body. Understanding slowly appeared in her eyes and she took a menacing step toward her ex-boyfriend.
“You tried to keep him from getting in? What the hell is wrong with you, Angel?”
“Jealousy,” her watcher croaked, pulling himself to his feet and walking around the rising vampire. “He was more worried about your being grateful to Spike than he was about saving your life.”
Buffy stared at the embarrassed face of the man she used to think of as her soul mate and shook her head sadly. She spoke softly and slowly.
“That’s twice recently you’ve tried to decide for me who I can and cannot have in my life. I think it’s time for you to go back to LA and stay there, Angel. You wanted me to have a life without you—so let me do it. Stay out of if from now on.”
Chapter Six
When Angel had slunk off into the night, muttering to himself about vamps that should never have been allowed to crawl out of their graves and women who don’t know their own minds, Buffy looked at her Watcher and allowed real concern to show for the first time.
“Do we know where Xander and Riley are?”
He shook his head and started to speak when the former burst into the room, his own thrall gone now that Dracula was still dust particles scattered around the floor.
“Where is he?” he demanded, waving a stake vigorously. “Where is the bloodsucker that thought he could make me his butt monkey?”
“You WERE his butt monkey, you stupid git,” Spike grinned.
When Buffy and Giles nodded in reluctant agreement, Xander shamefacedly lowered his stake and mumbled, “Well, it was okay. I knew Buffy could take him. No problem. Right, Buff?” His voice begged for the answer he wanted to hear and Buffy sighed.
“No problem, Xander. We had it covered.”
She looked apologetically at Spike as her friend chose to assume “we” meant the Watcher and the Slayer, but the vampire just shrugged and smiled warmly at her. Confident that Spike knew how much she appreciated his help, Buffy turned back to Xander and demanded to know, “Where’s Riley? What did they do to him?”
The boy jumped suddenly and gasped, “Oh, my god! I forgot about Riley! I…I might have, sortof, kinda…left him with the brides for a while…yesterday.”
Buffy’s face paled and Spike couldn’t control his growl at her obvious fear for the man who was theoretically her boyfriend. Pushing down the jealousy that threatened to destroy whatever good will he’d built up between them, he followed Xander and Buffy down the hall. When the boy stopped in confusion, admitting that he didn’t know exactly what room Riley might be in, Spike blew out an unnecessary breath and stepped forward.
“Follow me,” he muttered. “I can smell the overgrown boy scout.”
Buffy followed him anxiously as he strode off down a corridor, sniffing occasionally to be sure he was going the right way. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive, luv,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I do smell blood.”
He reached a darkened opening and held up his hand for her to stop. Slipping into vamp mode, he leaned in and looked around, finding himself looking down into a damp, dirt-floored room on which her boy friend was sprawled, apparently asleep. There were no stairs down into the pit, and he said, “Just a minute, Slayer. I’ll hand him up to you.”
After warning Buffy to stay back from the edge, he jumped down to the damp floor. A muffled, “eep!” was his only warning that Buffy had disobeyed his order to stay back from the edge and he whirled just in time to catch her as she fell gracelessly into the room.
“Bloody hell, Slayer,” he growled into her hair which was covering his face in a sweet-smelling cloud, “Can’t you follow a simple direction?”
In spite of his angry words, he used the occasion to hold her tightly for a few seconds before lowering her feet to the floor. As she slid down his body until her feet were touching the bare ground, he almost groaned aloud at his instant reaction to her warmth.
“I’m sorry?” she breathed meekly, her arms still around his neck where they’d landed when he interrupted her fall. Neither of them made any move to separate until a moan from Riley reminded Buffy of why she was standing in the dark clinging to Spike. With a guilty start, she slowly pushed away from his chest, trying not to notice that his arms had tightened almost imperceptibly before he sighed softly and released her.
She stepped back, her hands sliding down his arms until they rested on his wrists. He could feel her trembling and couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “Slayer—Buffy…”
“No,” she said in a less than firm voice. “Don’t. Please?” She released his wrists and stepped back again, almost stepping on Riley.
“Buffy? Is that you?”
“Yes, Riley, it’s me. ..and Spike. We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”
She heard him struggle to sit up and reached out a hand until it rested on his head.
“Spike’s going to hand you up to me and Xander and we’ll pull you out. Can you stand up?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m just a little weak…”
Buffy turned to Spike, knowing he could see both the soldier and her. Her unspoken question was obvious to him and he whispered softly, “I smell the blood, luv. I imagine they’ve been chewing on him a bit. He seems pretty strong, though. Heartbeat’s steady and whatnot.”
She nodded and looked up at the opening where Xander was on his hands and knees trying to see them. She flexed her legs and said, “Xander, get back. I’m coming out.”
She felt Spike’s hands on her waist and knew immediately what he was going to do.
“On three.”
“One, two…three!” She jumped as Spike tossed and she was back up in the doorway, grabbing the sides for support. She turned quickly and gestured for Xander to stand to the other side.
“Okay, if you can get him up here, we’ll catch him,” she called down.
She heard sounds of scuffling and growling before Riley’s large body came flying up at them almost too hard for them to stop it. Buffy’s Slayer speed allowed her to snatch at his arm before gravity could pull him back down and she yanked him through the door and onto the floor. Once he was in the light, she could see the small bites all over his neck, arms and shirtless torso.
“Oh, Riley! You’ve been bitten all over!”
“I’m all right, Buffy. It wasn’t that bad, actually.”
Spike’s sarcastic snort caused a puzzled frown to cross Buffy’s face before she turned her attention back to the commando.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Just get me back to the base. We have…remedies…for things like this.”
With Xander on one side and Buffy on the other, they helped the weakened soldier walk toward the door and Giles’ waiting car. As they passed the entrance to the large hall where Dracula’s dust was once again struggling to pull itself back together, Buffy paused and said loudly, “If this place is still here tomorrow, I’m coming back and setting fire to it.” She was rewarded by the sight of the dust falling back to the floor, doing its best to remain still and innocent-looking.
With a snicker, she continued out the door after her Watcher, the blond vampire bringing up the rear of the small parade. As he passed the doorway, he slipped inside quickly and snatched the white queen from the floor, putting it in his pocket for safekeeping. He laughed as an angry hiss came from the dust pile, and knew he’d made the right decision for keeping Buffy free of the old vampire.
Giles insisted that only those who had lost blood during the course of the evening were allowed to ride in his small car, leaving Spike and Xander standing on the sidewalk staring wistfully after them. Spike could see a small face looking out the rear window at him until the car was out of sight, and he cradled the carved queen gently in his hand as he watched it drive away.
With a thump on Xander’s shoulder that brought him only a slight twinge of pain, he started off, surprising the boy by offering to see him safely home. They strode through the night, the shorter blond vampire walking with such authority that he appeared just as tall as his much larger dark-haired companion.
“I guess you’ll be glad to go off slayer-sitting duty and get back to whatever it is you do now that you can’t eat people?” Xander’s attempt at friendly conversation was met with a snort. “I mean, it’s not like Buffy needs a bodyguard anymore. So I guess that means you’re out of work.”
“I guess it does,” the vampire replied noncommittally.
“It’s not like you were getting paid for anyway,” Xander continued. “You WEREN’T getting paid for it, were you?”
Spike thought back to past few days and nights; sleeping in Buffy’s slayer-scented bed, flirting and touching her without fear of reprisal, of the expression on Angel’s face when she sent him packing, of the lingering promise in the way her body responded to him even after the thrall was broken. He smiled and once again softly touched the carving in his pocket.
“Not as such, Whelp. Not as such.”
He strode on through the night, smiling to himself and ignoring the puzzled looks from the boy walking beside him.
The End
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok, no screaming because there is no Spuffy loving in this one. I'll start posting the sequel tomorrow.