Chapter Twelve
Buffy’s disguise worked well as long as they didn’t get too close to people in well-lit areas. And in this day of gas and oil lamps, they found that not difficult. When Buffy insisted on looking for something to slay, Spike took her on a tour of the nearest cemeteries, warning her they would be nothing like what she was used to in Sunnydale.
Buffy was completely awed by the age and size of London’s graveyards. Although Sunnydale had an unusually large number of cemeteries for such a small city, none were more than 150 years old, at most. Here, some of the graves she saw were so old it was impossible to read the dates on the tombstones. When Spike told her that they dated back to the 10th century, she became less of a Slayer and more of a tourist, walking through the empty, quiet grounds and shivering at the history she could almost feel in her bones.
With not having vampires and demons popping up every few feet the way they would have at home, Buffy felt free to look around and Spike became her tour guide as he showed her around the rest of 1890’s London. He walked her by the museums and historic buildings, assuring her that she could come back in the daytime to look inside.
“I wish I could take you myself, pet,” he said wistfully.
“So do I,” she admitted softly. “It would be fun.”
She had found that Spike was full of historical information as well as less well-known facts about much of the city, and she found herself enjoying what she would have been sure, had Giles suggested it, would be an incredibly boring time. The night flew by and in what seemed like a very short amount of time, he was steering her back toward their house, saying, “Time to get back, luv, or we’ll be having to sneak past Cook to get upstairs.”
“But we haven’t been everywhere, yet,” she pouted in mock disappointment.
“True enough,” he whispered in her ear, his cool breath causing her to shiver in anticipation. “But I have something else in mind for the rest of the night. There are other places I want to be…”
As they neared the dark, silent house, they saw a light in the front parlor. The light from the inside cast a glow onto the front porch – just enough of a glow that they could see a figure standing there knocking on the door.
The light from inside the house was nearing the door as Spike’s feet hit the porch steps and a fledgling vampire whirled to snarl at them, not recognizing quickly enough what sort of beings had come up behind him so rapidly. Buffy raised her stake as she came up the stairs behind Spike, but before she could plunge it into the unsuspecting vamp’s heart, he grabbed her wrist.
“Hold up a minute, pet. I don’t think this is a coincidence.”
The unwary fledgling charged the two blonds in front of him forgetting completely about the bewildered maid opening the front door. Spike quickly pinned the surprised vamp to the floor, holding him there while Buffy perched on his chest, her stake poised over his heart. When Molly started to open the door, Spike shouted at her to “Shut that bloody thing, now!” frightening the poor girl into almost dropping her lamp in her haste to obey.
“What are you doing here?” Buffy demanded, pressing down until a drop of blood leaked through his shirt.
“Looking for an easy meal,” he snarled, still not fully aware of his danger. “They told me this house didn’t need an invite and there were a couple of juicy women there for the taking. Couldn’t get in, though, so I thought I’d see if I could get one ‘em to come out.”
“Who told you?” Spike’s voice was cold and deadly and for the first time the pinned vampire got an inkling that he was not being accosted by humans. He could hear the girl’s heartbeat and knew she was human, but was confused by her lack of fear. Not to mention the stake she held at his heart. As the fact that he could only hear one heartbeat began to sink in, he asked, “Are you him?”
“Am I who, wanker?”
“They told me a vamp owned the house, but they said he wasn’t much older than me and wouldn’t be a problem if he was home.” The fear on his face indicated how quickly he was realizing he’d been lied to.
“WHO told you?” Spike and Buffy snarled together, although they were both sure they knew the answer.
“Big Irish guy – had a blond with him. They were old, both of them. Told me after I ate to come back and tell them what I found. I wasn’t going to argue with them – just did what I was told.”
“Angelus,” Buffy breathed, her stomach clenching in fear. The vamp she was sitting on misunderstood her fear and smiled in satisfaction as he thought she’d finally realized the danger she was in. The smile was still on his face when he turned to dust under Buffy’s stake. She hadn’t even bothered to look at him as she thrust it home, her eyes were on Spike who was in game face, looking around and sniffing the air.
“Let’s get inside, pet,” he growled. “I don’t feel them anywhere, but I think he’d want to watch and see if his minion made it inside.”
She stood up, nodding her head, ashamed of her willingness to get to safety when there were vampires about. Just before they opened the door, she ran her hand along his forehead ridges, smiling slightly as she said, “You might want to lose your wrinkles before we go in or Molly’s going to have a whole new understanding of the word ‘master’.”
As soon as her hand touched his face, he was slipping back into his beautiful human features and by the time she was finished speaking William Sinclair was looking back at her.
Spike opened the door, holding it for Buffy and snatching the cap off her head as she went in ahead of him. Just before he stepped in behind her, he felt the presence of his vampire family and whirled to stare into the night, cursing Molly’s presence, which kept him in his less perceptive human state. He could feel Buffy stiffen beside him and knew she had sensed them too.
He forced himself to turn around casually and pull the door shut behind him, giving Buffy a little nudge to move her forward. The fact that the minion had not been able to get in, told him the barrier was probably working and he mentally thanked Stuart Saint-John for his efficiency.
Molly was staring at the two blonds with an open mouth – looking back and forth from Spike’s tight tee shirt to Buffy’s tight pants.
“Uh, uh, Sir? Who was that man pounding on the door and where did he go?”
“I believe he was someone who meant to do us harm, Molly. He was knocking in hopes you would let him in.”
Spike looked at her intently. “It is extremely important that no one invite any strangers into the house after dark. Or during daylight, for that matter,” he added quickly at Buffy’s frown. “Is that clear, Molly? It is most important that you take me seriously.”
“Ye-yes sir. I understand, Sir.”
“Good girl. Well, then, we’ll let you get back to sleep. I’m sorry that you had to be awakened so rudely.”
Molly knew a dismissal when she heard one, and she bit back the questions she wanted to ask about their clothing and what they’d been doing out in the wee hours of the morning. She retreated to her room and, after checking that the tiny window was fastened, she blew out the lamp and went back to sleep.
As soon as Molly was out of sight and hearing, Buffy turned to Spike and said anxiously, “You felt them too, didn’t you?”
“Yes, love, I did. But if the minion couldn’t break in through a window or a door, then the barrier is up and they can’t get in here. We’ll just have to be sure the entire staff is careful about who they invite into the house. Have to come up with some sort of story…I’ll work on that tomorrow.”
Buffy nodded and turned to walk toward the stairs. She stopped when she realized Spike was not behind her, and turned to look at him anxiously.
“Spike?”
“Call me William, pet,” he answered absently, turning to lock the front door.
“Are you coming upstairs, William?” she asked in a much less sure tone that she wanted.
He looked at her in surprise, noting her hesitance to go up by herself.
“Are you all right, Buffy?”
“I’m fine. I just wondered when--if you were coming to bed.”
He rolled his eyes at her and winked lasciviously. “Oh yes, love. You can count on it. Just as soon as I check that the downstairs is all locked up and secure. Wouldn’t put it past that wanker to send humans to do his dirty work for him if he felt he needed to.”
“That’s stupid. He can’t know about your chip. He would have no reason to think humans would have a prayer against you. Not to mention me.”
“The great poof doesn’t always think things through. I’m just saying, he might try that, just to get someone inside the house. And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t noticed that you’re a Slayer yet. Dru picked up on it right away, but Angelus is a little dense sometimes.”
“He doesn’t recognize Slayers when he sees them?”
“He stays away from any country where there is known to be a Slayer. Doesn’t seek ‘em out like some vamps do.”
“cough, Spike, cough”
“I’m gonna be seeking a Slayer in just a few minutes when I get done down here – and she’d better be naked when I find her,” he threatened with a leer, grateful for the change of subject.
“Or what?” Buffy challenged, starting up the stairs with an exaggerated sway of her tightly clothed hips.
“Or we’ll have to be asking old Saint-John to be sending us another pair of trousers,” he growled, showing her his claws for just a second.
“Promises, promises,” she giggled, running up the stairs and into her room.
“That it was, pet,” he chuckled softly. “That it was.”
When Spike had made a complete circuit of the downstairs and ensured that all windows were closed and locked, he headed for the back stairs. With his foot on the first riser, he froze, feeling once again, the presence of his grandsire. No sooner had he felt Angelus presence, than he heard Buffy’s heart rate go up and she gasped loudly enough to be heard in the kitchen.
He took the stairs in two leaps, hit the floor at the top and raced to her room to find her clutching her shirt to her chest and staring at the window fearfully. Spike followed her frozen gaze to see his grandsire’s grinning face peering in the open window. As Spike walked toward him, Angelus licked his lips and growled softly at Buffy. Instead of rushing the window and pushing him off the small ledge he was standing on, the Slayer remained frozen in place, her fear plain to see. The older vampire laughed and leaped to the ground a scant second before Spike slammed the window down and pulled the curtains.
Buffy’s color went from white to bright red as she recovered herself and began cursing Angelus and his sire in amazingly colorful terms. Spike beamed at her proudly as she threw in a few “Bloody’s” and “soddin’s” along with the all-American “mother-fucking sonofabitch!”
When she stopped for air, he applauded softly and walked toward her laughing.
“Well that would have blown your well-brought-up lady disguise right out of the water,” he laughed. “What brought all that on? Didn’t like Peaches playing peeping Tom at you?”
Buffy shuddered briefly, bringing another smile to the vampire’s face, then said with a grimace, “I’m mad at myself for letting him get to me again. It’s just like in my dreams. I see him and I freeze. Dammit!”
“Come on, love,” he said, stroking her hair soothingly, “You couldn’t have done anything without risking being pulled out the window. So, standing still and covering up those perky little breasts was probably your best move. He’s trying to rattle you and now he thinks it’s working. Bloody wanker’s still too stupid to recognize a slayer when he sees one.”
“Probably because I’m not acting like one,” she grumbled. “Why would he be afraid of me when all I’ve done so far is run from him and squeal like a little girl?” She began to put her shirt down and undo her pants when movement at one of the uncovered windows caught her eye and she froze again. She automatically started to cover her breasts, her heart pounding in fear, when she heard Spike growling and saw him move toward the window. She shook herself and said in trembling voice, “No, wait. Let me. What’s the British version of the finger?”
She stood up proudly, allowing the watching vampire outside a good look at her slim, muscular, but very feminine, body before she walked over to the window, held up her two fingers in an obscene salute and casually pulled the curtains closed.
She turned triumphantly and smiled at Spike. “There! That was more like it!”
“Yes, it was, Slayer,” he agreed with a grin. “I’ll bet he won’t be bragging about that response anytime soon.”
“Xander,” Giles spoke softly, but firmly, “Would you be so good as to hand me one of those tasers, please?” He held his hand out behind him for the device, never taking his eyes off the confused vampire crouching on the floor of the room.
“Uh, okay, but wouldn’t a stake be more useful? Just saying...”
“Until we know where Buffy and Spike have gone, and why this—“ he stopped speaking when the vampire jumped to his feet at hearing Spike’s name and snarled again. “Oh, dear Lord,” he breathed as he studied the figure in front of him.
The vampire glared back at him, gradually relaxing his tense posture and assuming a very familiar spread-legged posture. As his face faded back into his human features, the young man peering over Giles’ shoulder choked back a gasp when he saw the curly haired vampire’s face.
“It’s...it’s Spike!” he squeaked.
“Heard of me, have you?” the young vampire asked, swaggering a little.
“You might say that,” Giles responded, relaxing a little when the vampire made no attempt to attack. As soon as the youthful Spike saw the watcher drop his arms, he charged the door, only to find himself unable to get enough traction to climb up.
The two humans had jumped back at the attempted attack and were studying the vampire from outside the room.
“What are we going to do with him?” Xander asked. “He’s obviously gone nuts and reverted to his old evil self. Not to mention, he’s done something with Buffy.”
“I don’t think so,” Giles muttered, looking around for some restraints.
When he glanced back at the vampire, he could see him crouching to leap and shouted for Xander to take the other side of the door. As Spike’s leap carried him close enough to grab the sides of the door, Giles hit the hand closest to him with the taser while Xander did the same on the other side. Rather than allowing the vampire to fall back into the room, the older man grabbed the immobilized arm and yanked him out on to the floor where he could put the taser on a more central part of his body.
He winced in sympathy as the vampire trembled and convulsed under the taser’s touch. When Giles felt sure he had rendered this younger version of Spike out for the count, he lifted his arm and stepped back, motioning for Xander to bring the restraints he’d found in another part of the facility. They quickly chained Spike up, fastening the chains to a metal pole in the middle of the room.
The vampire came to slowly, opening only his eyes until he noticed the chains, then leaping up with a roar and pulling on them with all his strength. He raged and yanked on the unyielding restraints until he was exhausted, then slumped back against the pole to glare at his captors.
“Where am I?” he growled. “And who the bloody hell are you?”
“Well, actually, Spike, that’s an interesting story...”
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