Chapter Three
Buffy was already half-way down the block when Spike caught up with her and she rolled her eyes at his angry scolding.
“Sheesh, Spike. You sound like…oh, I dunno, Riley? Angel? One of those annoying men who thinks I can’t take care of myself.”
“I know you can take care of yourself, Slayer,” he grumbled as he fell into step beside her. “I just think if you have back-up, you should take advantage, not walk away from it.”
“You think I should take advantage of you?” she asked with what appeared to be wide-eyed innocence. “That doesn’t sound like a very nice thing to do.”
“Oh, I could make it nice, Slayer. Don’t you worry about that.” He leered at her, not really sure if she was flirting with him, but more than willing to find out.
Instead of snarking back at him, she stopped and tilted her head to study his face for a minute. “I’ll bet you could,” she murmured finally, before turning and continuing her walk toward her mother’s house. The astonished vampire stared after her, wondering if he had imagined the speculative look on her face or if she really was considering following up on all the things they’d talked about doing while they were under Willow’s spell. Shaking himself out of his lust-filled daze, he sped up and was soon walking beside her again.
Before they could reach her front porch, Buffy stopped and chewed on her lip in thought.
“Slayer?”
She glanced at the puzzled vampire and shrugged.
“It just feels weird to be going in so early. Like I’m shirking my duty or something – hiding in my house instead of going out looking for the latest Big Bad. Maybe we should just—“
“Maybe we should just do what your Watcher wants you to and wait till we suss out where the bloody ponce is and what’s goin’ on before we go charging in.”
“Am I getting advice on impulse control from William, I-can’t-wait-till-Saturday-night-to-kill-you, the Bloody?” Buffy’s good-natured grin took the sting out of her words and Spike shrugged and smirked back at her.
“Listen to your bodyguard, pet. I know my business.”
“So, bodyguard,” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “Are you going to be guarding my… body…all…night?”
“Oh yeah, luv,” he answered, leaning down to breathe his response into her ear, “You can count on it. All night.”
He smiled at the way she shivered when his cool breath stirred tendrils of hair back from her face, and he was just about to risk running his tongue up the warm skin on her neck when he felt the unmistakable presence of his grandsire.
Even as he jerked upright and stared at the front door, he felt Buffy stiffen and knew she sensed Angel’s signature also. All thoughts of flirting fled as she leapt up the steps and threw open the door, calling anxiously, “Mom? Mom, where are you?”
“I’m right here, Buffy,” her mother’s voice was tense, but firm and the slayer relaxed slightly only to stiffen again when her ex boyfriend appeared in the hallway behind her mother and drawled, “Hello, lover. Nice to see you again.”
Angelus’ hand was wrapped lightly around Joyce’s neck and both the Slayer and her vampire bodyguard tensed at this undeniable proof that Angel’s soul had somehow been torn out of him again.
Somewhat to the older vampire’s surprise, the Slayer’s dismay was not as pronounced as he would have hoped and he flicked a suspicious look at his grandchilde. He’d had no idea Spike was back in Sunnydale and he frowned as he tried to understand why he would be at the Slayer’s back and yet not biting her.
“Let. My. Mother Go.”
Buffy’s voice was cold and hard, with no trace of the devastated teenager she’d been the last time he was loose. Buffy’s mother felt a burst of pride go through her when the vampire holding her visibly flinched at the implied threat. She rarely got to see her daughter in action as the Slayer and she viewed her with renewed respect; admitting to herself that her little girl was now an adult.
Spike couldn’t contain his smirk when he saw the other vampire react to the Slayer’s voice and he briefly wished her commando boy friend could have been there to see it.
(Bloody moron. Thinkin’ he shouldn’t be afraid of her.)
Angel blinked in confusion, his plan to make Buffy vulnerable by appearing in her home and threatening her mother was apparently backfiring on him. Rather than vulnerable, the still-advancing Slayer looked nothing less than lethal as she stalked toward him.
Quickly regaining his poise, the vampire snarled and tightened his hold on her mother’s throat, slipping into game face and allowing his claws to dig into her skin. Buffy hesitated, but her expression didn’t change and she continued to move toward him.
While she was advancing slowly, Spike was edging around her to move closer and to the side of the vampire and his now struggling captive. His low growl grew deeper as he watched blood trickle down Joyce’s neck from his grandsire’s claws.
Misunderstanding the reason for the blond vampire’s growl, Angelus shot him a grin and offered, “If you help me get the Slayer to Dracula, I’ll share the mother with you. Not quite the same as Slayer blood, but pretty close to it, I’ll wager.”
“As usual, Peaches, you don’t have a bloody clue what’s goin’ on here.” He grinned at Angelus’ puzzled glare. “Hang in there, Joyce,” he added as he moved closer, “We’re gonna have you out of this sick bastard’s hands in just a sec.”
Angelus looked back and forth between the stony-faced Slayer and his grinning grandchilde and remembered how they had teamed against him the last time he was in Sunnydale. With another snarl, he pulled Joyce into his chest and sniffed at her neck meaningfully.
He ignored Spike temporarily to look into Buffy’s eyes so she could see the madness and resolve there.
“It’s your call, lover. I can kill her and be gone from here before you can stop me.”
He started backing into the kitchen and edging toward the open door.
“If you kill her, you’ll never make it out the door,” she responded, struggling to keep the fear out of her voice. “I’m sooo over my inability to stake you, Angel.”
“Maybe,” he admitted grudgingly, his ego bruised at the lack of pain on her face. “But that doesn’t mean you can take me, lover. After all, I’m the one who taught you to fight. I don’t think you can beat me.”
“WE can beat you, Peaches,” came the cool voice from behind him. He whipped his head around to see that Spike had maneuvered his way between him and the door. “Although,” Spike added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m pretty sure the Slayer can take you all by herself. She’s grown up some since the last time you had to fight her.”
Angelus wasn’t a coward, but he was also not a fool. Although he remained confident that he could beat Spike in a one on one situation, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Even when the other vamp had been a cocky fledgling, it had taken time and a considerable amount of brute strength to beat him every time Angelus felt the need to discipline Dru’s childe.
And the grown-up Slayer glaring coldly at him bore no resemblance to the little girl he’d gone up against the last time he lost his soul. With a sudden flash, he remembered that, with the help of the vampire behind him, that little girl had successfully sent him to hell to save the world. There had been tears in her eyes, but her sword stroke had been sure and firm.
His attention was so focused on the two lithe blond predators on either side of him that he’d almost forgotten about his hostage. Showing why she was the mother of one of the world’s longest-lived slayers, Joyce dropped her arm and threw her hand backwards between her captor’s spread legs, drawing a surprised gasp and unmanly yelp from the aged vampire.
He released her neck to clutch at his suddenly painful balls and Spike was immediately upon him, shoving Joyce away as he pinned Angelus’ arms to his sides. Buffy stepped around her mother and buried her fist in the vampire’s stomach. As soon as she had punched his grandsire enough that Spike was sure he was too dazed to fight back, he stepped back and went to assist Buffy’s mother to a stool.
He resisted the urge to lick the blood trickling down her throat and went to the sink to get her a wet paper towel to hold on the shallow cuts made by the vampire’s claws. Handing her the towel, he joined her on the other stool and watched with glee as the Slayer worked out all her frustrations about Dracula and her inability to fight him on the body and face of his least favorite relative.
As much as he was enjoying the sight of Angelus being pummeled, he couldn’t help frowning at the expression on the vamp’s face as he began to lose consciousness and he finally stepped closer, stopping Buffy’s final punch with a gentle touch on her shoulder. He leaned in to look into Angelus’ eyes and then sighed heavily as he turned to the Slayer.
Buffy could see the indecision play across his face as Spike struggled with what to tell her. A part of him wanted to let her stake the other vampire, putting him out of her life forever, but he knew she would never forgive him if he let her do it knowing what he now knew.
“Spike?”
“It’s in there, luv. Much as I’d love to see you put the great poofter out of our misery, I can’t let you do it because you think he’s lost his soul. Don’t know why it isn’t workin’ right now, but it’s still there.”
Buffy looked at the barely conscious vampire at her feet and shuddered at how close she’d come to dusting him. She gave Spike a puzzled, but grateful look and ran to get some restraints from her weapons chest.
When they had Angelus safely restrained with chains and leg irons, they carried him to the basement and attached the chains to bolts in the cinderblock wall. When the blond vampire cocked a questioning eyebrow at her and licked his lips, Buffy blushed and said quickly, “They were here when we moved in. I never had them taken out because…well, you never know…”
“Wasn’t sayin’ a word, pet,” he insisted, amused by her bright red face. “What, exactly, was it you thought I was thinking?”
“Nothing! I wasn’t thinking…anything. It’s just you…when we chained you in Giles’ bathtub…and you were all with the …and then you wanted to… Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.”
“Oh, I think you were, pet,” he murmured, moving closer to her and enjoying the way her heart sped up. “I think you were definitely thinking something. Reminded you of good times, did they? When you had me chained up and at your mercy?”
“You’re a pig, Spike,” she snorted. Neither one of them really took the automatic response very seriously and he just oinked cheerfully as they went back upstairs to check on a shaken, but not seriously injured Joyce.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Buffy said apologetically. “I really didn’t think we’d need the dis-invite so soon.”
“Can you explain to me why he isn’t dust?” her mother inquired sternly. She’d never liked the older vampire, even when she thought he was just a college student tutoring her teenaged daughter. Nothing that she’d learned about him since then had done anything to change her opinion and she was genuinely upset that he was in her basement, chains or no chains.
Buffy sighed and looked at Spike for assistance, but he just shook his head and walked to the refrigerator to look for blood. With a glare at his unhelpful back, she said quietly, “Spike says Angel’s soul is still in there. We don’t know why he went all evil again, but –“
“It’s probably one of Drac’s tricks,” Spike spoke up as he put a mug of blood in the microwave. “You can’t really thrall another vampire, but somebody with all those gypsy tricks up his puffy sleeves probably has ways to release the demon without knocking the soul out.”
“Why would he do that if he hates your family so much?”
“Probably figured Peaches would keep me busy and leave him free to concentrate on getting you where he wants you. Might’ve worked too if your mum hadn’t been here.” He gave Joyce a small smile and got a nervous nod in return. “And if we killed each other that’d just be a bonus for him, wouldn’t it?”
“Are you staying here tonight?” Joyce asked the shocked vampire, staring at him anxiously.
Before he could reply, Buffy spoke up, an edge to her voice, “Yes, Mom, he’s staying here. But you would be perfectly safe with me, you know.”
“I know that, honey. I’m not doubting you at all – not after seeing what you did to…you are going to wipe up that blood, aren’t you?”
Buffy rolled her eyes and said tightly, “Yes, Mom. I’ll clean it up before I go to bed.”
“Good,” her mother said, all trace of anxiety and fear gone from her voice. “Why don’t you do that and Spike can keep me company in the living room. I think I have today’s Passions recorded, if you’re interested…”
While the Chosen One stared after them with her mouth open, her mother and her vampire bodyguard walked into the living room to watch a soap opera, leaving her to clean up all the second-hand blood left from the beat down she’d inflicted on her former boy friend.
She grabbed a sponge off the sink and began to clean up the blood splashes around the kitchen, grumbling to herself the entire time about stupid, soap-opera-watching vampires and mothers who didn’t trust their own super-powered daughters. By the time she was finished, she had calmed down and she joined her mother and her bodyguard in the living room for some prime-time TV.
When her mother was ready to go to bed, Buffy had forgiven her enough to give her a good-night kiss and smile at the way she marched bravely toward the stairs by herself. At a nod from the vampire, Buffy jumped up and followed Joyce up the stairs saying, “I’m just going to check the windows before you go to sleep, okay, Mom?”
“All right, honey. Don’t stay up too late.”
A quick look around showed no signs of a vampire’s presence and all windows were closed and locked. Buffy bid her mother “good-night” again and went in to her own room to change clothes. When she emerged, having changed into her yummy sushi pajamas, she was surprised to see Spike standing at the top of the stairs.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, pet. I just thought you might want to get some sleep too. You didn’t get that much last night.”
“I suppose I should,” she sighed, turning around and looking over her shoulder at him. “Are you coming?” She groaned inwardly at leaving him an opening like that, but to her surprise he just grinned and ignored the obvious reply.
“I thought I’d sit out here for a while,” he said quietly, indicating the hallway. “So I can hear Peaches, and see your room and your mum’s at the same time.”
“Oh.” Her lip came out in a disappointed pout. She started into her room, then stopped and without turning around to look at him she asked softly, “Why don’t you want to stay with me? Are you just pretending when you act like you…like you want me?”
He was behind her, holding her by the shoulders before she was even aware that he’d moved. He gripped them so tightly she knew she’d have bruises the next day and she gasped as he whirled her around to face him. Without a word, he fastened his soft cool lips on hers and kissed her until she opened her mouth with a small moan. Immediately, his tongue was inside her mouth, stroking and caressing, encouraging her own explorations.
His arms banded around her waist and he pulled her willing body against his, allowing her to feel just how much he was not pretending to want her. When she reluctantly pulled her mouth away to pant for air, she rested her forehead against his chest and gasped, “Okay, not pretending.”
“Not pretending,” he agreed, taking unneeded gulps of air himself. “But not going to take advantage of the situation, either. Much as I might want to…” he said with groan, pushing her away firmly.
“All right, now you’re just trying to confuse me. Take advantage of the situation how? You’re going to be in my bedroom. With my mother’s blessing. What’s the problem?”
“Think about this for a minute, luv. Under ordinary circumstances, even if you really wanted me--” He shook his head when she started to protest. “Even if you really wanted me, would you be wanting to do something about it with your mum right next door and your ex – your ex what has vampire-hearing – in the basement?”
She frowned; then her face crumpled. “You mean this is just because…it’s another spell?”
She was forced to admit that he was right – she would never have tried to have sex while her mother was in the next bedroom; not if she was in her right mind. And the idea of Angel lying chained in the basement listening to her with another man made her shudder.
“This is because of the thrall?” Her voice was small and weak, with angry tears just hovering in the background.
“Don’t know, pet. Only you can answer that. I jus’ know you’re not behaving like yourself--and that means the bloody ponce still has his hooks into you somehow. And I’m not taking anything from you that you… that…that you might not want to give if you weren’t under the influence.”
They stared at each other in silence for long minutes, then the Slayer nodded in silent agreement and turned to go into her room. She got into bed silently and curled up under the blanket to ponder the strangeness of her life.
The vampire she had been sure was her soul mate was chained in her basement because he couldn’t seem to hang on to that soul around her. Her “normal” boyfriend was a demon-hunting, chemically enhanced commando with little or no understanding of the world she inhabited. And her mortal enemy, the vampire that had been ogling her since she was sixteen, who was incapable of carrying on a conversation without peppering it with sexual innuendos, who had vowed to make her his third dead Slayer was sitting outside her bedroom intent on protecting both her life and her virtue.
She drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that no matter what Dracula did, Spike would keep her safe. Something the vampire vowed to himself he would do no matter what it took. He chose not to exam his motives too carefully, comfortable with pretending that he was only keeping her safe until he could kill her himself.
As he settled back against the wall, wishing he could light a cigarette, but knowing Joyce would not want him smoking in her house, a sleepy voice drifted out of the Slayer’s open bedroom door.
“Spike?”
“Yes, luv?”
“Do you have a thrall?”
“Dunno. S’pose I do. Comes with the whole vamp package I think. Why?”
“Why didn’t you ever use it on me? Back when you wanted to kill me, I mean.”
“Well, it’s cheatin’, innit? Wanted to kill you in a fight, not mojo you to death.”
“Well, that was dumb,” she murmured, as she drifted off. “I might have killed you.”
“You still might, pet. ‘S what keeps life interestin’.”
“Mmmmph”
The vampire smiled as he heard her breathing become more regular and he knew she was asleep. He went into vamp mode and extended his senses throughout the house. He could hear Joyce’s even breathing from her room and knew she was also soundly sleeping. The fact that both Summers women were depending on him to keep them safe gave him an unaccustomed warmth in his chest and he mentally shook his head at himself. (Turning into a right ponce myself. Must be old William tryin’ to raise his nancy-boy head. First thing you know, I’ll be spouting poetry and bringing them flowers.)
He listened carefully for sounds from the basement, but the muffled moans and growls he heard told him that Angelus was still recovering from the beating Buffy had given and he relaxed against his wall, prepared to stay awake until the sun could once again take over protecting the house and its occupants.
Chapter Four
Once again, Buffy awoke to the sight of her former nemesis propped up in the chair in her room, dozing lightly just out of reach of the small shaft of sunlight that had managed to find a crack in the drapes. She studied his softened features for a few minutes, noting the long lashes brushing his chiseled cheeks and the fullness of his lower lip. She unconsciously licked her own lips, remembering how that mouth felt on hers and the things Spike could do with his lips and tongue.
With a little shake, she brushed the lustful thoughts from her head, reluctant to admit that Dracula’s thrall might be responsible for her attraction to the other vampire, but not willing to risk another embarrassing aftermath if it was true. She got up and padded softly in her bare feet over to the sleeping vampire and touched his shoulder gently.
“Spike? I’m up now. Why don’t you shift to the bed? Get some comfortable sleep.”
His eyes popped open and he glared around angrily before his gaze settled on her and he relaxed, smiling at her sheepishly.
“Some bodyguard I am,” he muttered. “Fallin’ asleep on the job.”
“If I’m the job, then wouldn’t that mean you fell asleep on me? And, since you’re in the chair, and I was in the bed, all alone…”
He glared into her laughing eyes and growled, “Don’t start with me already this morning, Slayer. I thought we settled it last night that I’m keeping my distance until we know you’re in your right mind. Don’t fancy being staked if you wake up and change your mind.”
In spite of his words, he couldn’t smother that little thrill that he got every time the Slayer said something flirty or suggestive to him and he vowed to torture Dracula for the rest of his unlife if it turned out to be his magic that was creating this warm, willing Slayer.
“I’m just teasing you, you old grouch. Lighten up.”
Buffy moved away from him and grabbed some clothes as she headed for the bathroom.
“Go to sleep, Spike,” she said more softly. “I’ll talk to you later this afternoon.”
“Alright, luv. Promise me you won’t go anywhere with the–with anyone until I can come with you. If you think you found where the bloody git is hiding, just come back and get me, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go anywhere without my bodyguard. I’ve got it.”
She waved her hand flippantly and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a frowning and very tired vampire behind. With a sigh of resignation, Spike dropped his boots and shirt and fell once again onto the bed that was still warm from her body. He inhaled her scent on the sheets and pillows and wished briefly he could take off his jeans and press his whole body into the warm depression she’d left in the bed. A moment’s thought about Joyce’s possible reaction if she found him naked in her daughter’s bed and he regretfully gave up the tempting idea.
Buffy tiptoed back into the room to get her shoes and quickly pulled the sheets back up over his prone body as she had the day before.
“’M not cold, Slayer,” he mumbled, more from the habit of disagreeing with everything she did than because he wasn’t grateful for her concern.
“Just don’t want to have to sweep your ashes out of my bed tonight,” she snarked back at him. She countered his replying grunt by smacking him lightly on his rear before jumping away from the bed with a giggle.
“Watch it, Missy,” he growled, turning his head to peer at her with one eye.
She stuck her tongue out at him and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Her palm tingled from the contact with his muscular butt and she fought the urge to go back and feel those hard cheeks with both hands.
(Man, if this is all because of Drac’s magic, I need to get rid of him soon before I do something I’ll never live down.)
She entered the kitchen chanting silently, “I have a boy friend, I have a boy friend, I have a boy---“
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This has nothing to do with this story - I just want to say that I plan to work my way through all those old reviews that I never answered, but it will be quick, so probably just a TY. Two reasons: 1 - it's rude not to reply and I feel bad about it, even though I doubt anyone is going to go back this long after the fact to see what I said. :) and 2 - I'm kind of compulsive about keeping the unanswered review section clear and it's driving me nuts to see them all sitting there. It also makes it hard to find any new ones. So, anyway, just so you know - I'm not tryng to be rude by not putting lengthy replies, I'm just trying to get them handled as quickly as possible.