Chapter Five
When she joined Spike in the dining room for a light supper, served by a silent, but attentive, young girl who had been brought in to help Molly around the house, Buffy was feeling quite rested and energetic. As soon as the serving girl was out of earshot, she said quietly, “I’m getting antsy. Do you think I should patrol tonight? There must be vampires in a city this big.”
“I don’t doubt there are, pet. But I’m not sure you want to be drawing that kind of attention to yourself just now. Not till we know what that dream was all about, anyway.”
“You think Angelus is here?” Buffy couldn’t control the way her voice rose anxiously at the thought. “I never thought about that. Angel doesn’t have his soul in this time, does he?”
“Nope, the bloody great poof is his original sick, mind-fucking self right now. And I don’t know exactly where he is. Should be somewhere in mainland Europe, or even Asia, but I can’t be sure.”
“Would—where do you think you are? The other you, I mean.”
He frowned and said honestly, “I don’t have any idea. I feel like I’m me; but I know there’s got to be another me running around somewhere out there just beginning to scratch the surface of what it means to be a vampire. And he’s not chipped.”
He looked up at her abruptly and said, “You need to remember that, pet. Make sure I’m me before you let your guard down. He’s not the fighter I am now, but if he catches you by surprise…”
Buffy blinked at him, not sure how to react to his obvious concern for her well-being.
“The Spike in my dream…he wasn’t you. At least I don’t think he was. You would never have lost a fight to Angel that easily. But he was still trying to protect me.”
“He was trying to protect his PROPERTY, pet. The demon was fighting Angelus for possession. Doesn’t mean he didn’t intend to do you harm of some kind. Jus’ be careful, all right?”
“All right,” she agreed softly, wondering at the sudden change from the cold shoulder he’d given her earlier.
While they finished their meal, Spike filled Buffy in on how his solicitor - “that’s another word for lawyer, pet. Means he handles my affairs for me when I’m not around or can’t go out because of the sun.”- supervised the running of Spike’s various business interests and maintained his bank accounts for him.
“So, you’re rich? You have money in this time?”
He grinned ruefully, “Yes, my poor father wanted so much for me to forget about my poe--other interests and go into business with him, but I wanted no part of it. We used to fight about it all the time. After he died and I had to make sure my mum was taken care of, I had to get involved. It took awhile, but it turns out I’m pretty good at managing money – even if it did take me until I was a vampire to really make it work for me.”
“What happened to it?”
“What happened to what, pet?” he asked absently, toying with the very rare meat on his plate. He realized he was going to have to find a way to get fresh blood delivered to the house without Mrs. Barstow finding out about it and was pondering that and not really paying attention to Buffy’s question.
“Your money, this house,” she waved her hand around the room. “All this stuff. Where did it go?”
“Didn’t go anywhere – I still have it. House is rented out in our time, but if I wanted to come back and live here, I could.”
He still wasn’t paying attention to her and missed the looks of amazement, disbelief and anger that flew across her face.
“You have MONEY? In our time, you have money? And you steal your cigarettes from the 7/11? You charge us money for information?” Her voice was rising and he gestured for her to keep it down.
“Shhh, Buffy. What happened to staying in character?” He looked at her, completely puzzled by her surprise and anger. “I haven’t asked any of you for money for a long time, pet,” he said mildly. “You know that.”
“Well…well, you steal! And you…you live in a crypt. With dead people.”
“Now, darling, that’s not a very nice way to talk about our neighbors. I know they aren’t very lively, but comparing them to corpses is just not sporting. And I do not steal. I am merely a very good businessman.”
Buffy didn’t need the warning jerk of his head to realize he had heard someone coming back toward the dining room, and she subsided immediately, only mumbling, “Well, I didn’t know you were rich.”
“And that’s how I know you married me for my good looks and charm,” he said with a smile. “None of this is anything you need to worry your pretty little head about, my love. I just wanted you to know where to go for help if anything happened to me; and to have some idea to what you are entitled. It was very difficult for my mother to deal with things after my father’s death because he had never told her anything about the family assets. I do not want that to happen to you.”
Buffy gawked at him momentarily, wondering briefly if this was how Spike would be treating a real wife if he had one.
“Oh,” was the best response she could come up with immediately and she waited impatiently until the serving girl had returned to the kitchen to get their dessert before following up her original question.
“So, if you still have all this stuff – why do you—“
“Vampire.”
“Where?” She leaped to her feet, cursing the lack of a handy stake.
Spike rolled his eyes at her. “Here, you silly bint. I’m a vampire. If we want things, we take them. We’re evil, you know, or did the Council of Wankers forget to include that in your Slayer handbook?”
Buffy glared at him, then, to his amazement, relaxed and laughed.
“No, it was included. I just forget sometimes that you’re still evil.”
“Well, I am,” he huffed. “And don’t you forget it.
She rolled her eyes, still laughing and snickered, “Ok, Big Bad. I’ll remember.”
“See that you do,” he growled, still feeling offended but happy to see her laughing and enjoying herself.
When they had finished their meal and gone into the living room where Spike had an after-dinner brandy, Buffy repeated her remark from earlier in the day. She settled back on the sofa and said with sincere appreciation, “I could sooo get used to this.”
He cocked his head curiously and she elaborated, “No dishes to do, no cooking, no homework, somebody to pick my clothes up off the floor, somebody else’s money to spend…”
“Speaking of that, pet, do you have any idea what you did spend today?”
“Nope!” she replied cheerfully. “Not a clue. But I don’t think you’re as rich as you used to be. Is that okay?” she added, less cheerfully as he growled and came over to sit at the other end of the sofa.
“Guess it’ll have to be, won’t it? What kind of husband would I be if I couldn’t keep my wife in frillies and baubles?” He smiled over at her and toasted her silently with his brandy.
Buffy smiled back and leaned forward to delicately sniff the dark liquid in the glass. She wrinkled her nose, inspiring a full belly laugh from the vampire when she said, “Ewww! It smells like cough syrup!”
“It IS an acquired taste, I suppose,” he laughed. “But I like it. And it helps me relax so I’ll sleep tonight. This being on the same schedule as you humans is going to kill me if I don’t start sleeping at night when you do.”
His reminder of the differences between himself and humans reminded her abruptly of his eating habits and she gave a guilty start as she asked, “Where are you going to get blood? I didn’t even think about it today, or I would have got you some when I was out. I’m sorry, Spike,” she said, surprising him with her genuine sympathy, “You must be really hungry by now.”
Warmed by her apology and concern, he just shrugged and said, “I’ll be all right. Mr. Saint-John is going to arrange for a regular delivery. I just have figure out how to get it past Cook’s eagle eyes.”
“Mr. Saint-John? Your lawyer knows what you are?”
“Well, yeah, pet. Wouldn’t be much use to me if I had to come up with reasons why I couldn’t be about in the daytime now, would he?”
“But, but, his company…the people he works for…don’t they…how can…”
“He works for a very unusual law firm, Buffy. They’ve been handling my affairs for over a hundred years.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a soft, “Excuse me,” from the doorway. Mrs. Barstow stood there waiting patiently until they noticed her.
“If it’s all right with you, sir, I’ll just be on my way home now. Molly will stay here tonight to help Mrs. Sinclair and to get the fire going in the morning.”
“Yes, thank you, Cook. That’s quite all right. Please do go home and get some rest. You’ve done wonders today and you must accept my apology for not warning you about our arrival.”
“That’s quite all right, sir. I’ll just be off, then. Goodnight, Master William, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Good night, Mrs. Barstow,” Buffy said politely. “Thank you for everything and please be careful going home.”
With a nod, she left the room and they could hear the kitchen door shutting behind her.
“Should we have gone with her?” Buffy worried. “It’s dark out.”
“This isn’t Sunnydale, pet. She’ll be fine. I think the sight of either one of us skulking along in the shadows would bother her more than the walk by herself.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed doubtfully. “I guess we – I’d better get to bed. I don’t think either one of us got much sleep today.”
He rose easily to his feet and offered her his hand as he said, “Right you are, pet. Between your nightmare and Cook’s arrival, I don’t think we got more than a couple of hours of kip.”
Flushing, Buffy took the proffered hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They stood, facing each other, her hand still in his, each of them remembering the kiss they’d shared earlier in the day.
Simultaneously, they let go and turned away, neither one willing to revisit the afternoon’s events. Each equally sure the other was disgusted with their behavior.
(I’m sure he doesn’t want any reminders of what happened this afternoon. It was just like that stupid spell of Willow’s. For a minute it was so easy to believe we were…gah! What is wrong with me?)
(I’m sure she didn’t mean for that little performance to go as far as it did this afternoon. It was almost like Red’s spell there for a minute. Could almost believe we really…bloody hell! This is the Slayer, you stupid git. Get over it!)
When Buffy reached the top of the stairs, Molly was waiting for her and she gave Spike a quick peck good-night before turning to go into her own room. She saw that Molly had laid out a soft, embroidered nightgown on the bed and had a basin and ewer of water on the dresser waiting for Buffy to wash her face and hands.
She smiled her gratitude and turned so that Molly could undo the buttons on the back of the new dress she’d chosen to wear to dinner. She asked about bathing arrangements and when Molly assured her she could take a bath anytime she wanted to, as long as she let her know in time to heat the water, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“How about tomorrow morning?” she said with an apologetic smile. “I feel so grubby from the trip.”
Molly assured her that tomorrow would be fine, that she would have the bath ready by the time Buffy awoke. With a sly smile, she told Buffy that she would be sleeping downstairs in a small room off the kitchen where she probably wouldn’t be able to hear Buffy if she called her. She showed her the bell rope that she could pull if she needed to wake Molly up for something.
Blushing just like the new bride she was pretending to be, Buffy nodded vigorously, forcing herself to sound unembarrassed as she assured the girl that she would be fine and that if she needed anything, William would be close by and could undoubtedly take care of her.
She then blushed even more as Molly couldn’t smother a giggle and an eye roll. When the girl stopped giggling long enough to agree that “Master William” should be able to take care of anything she needed, they both collapsed onto the bed giggling like schoolgirls.
‘I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Molly gasped. “Please don’t tell my aunt. She’d let me go for sure if she knew I was behaving like this. I’m just so pleased that Master William has come home and that he has you. He was so lonely before, and those other girls were so mean to him. I was only small when he left, but I can remember how unhappy he was that he didn’t have anyone and I could never understand why someone so handsome and nice couldn’t fall in love with someone who would love him back.”
Buffy smothered a twinge of guilt at deceiving this friendly and caring girl, but played her role as best she could and sent Molly off to bed convinced that her “Master William” had made a love match.
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