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Author's Chapter Notes:
Three chapters today! (Yes, I am avoiding doing things that I should be doing...)
Chapter Seven

When Buffy awoke much later in the morning, her bed was empty and she had to smother a small pang of regret when she realized Spike had gone back to his own room. She stretched, knowing from the way the sun was coming in that she had slept quite late. A soft knock on the door and Molly stuck her head in to ask if Buffy was ready for her bath. She gave an eager nod and jumped out of the bed to follow the cheerful servant girl down the hall to where the bathtub had been filled with clean, steaming water.

After thanking Molly effusively, Buffy sank into the warm water, sighing in satisfaction. She tilted her head back to wet her hair and began the process of cleaning off the grime of the past two days.

When she emerged from the bathroom sometime later, wrapped from head to toe in fluffy towels, she was startled to find Spike heading in her direction. His warning frown told her Molly was somewhere nearby and she bit back the question she was going to ask him as he headed into the bathroom.

Molly was waiting in her room, holding up some complicated-looking undergarments and one of the floral gowns Buffy had purchased the day before. In spite of Buffy’s insistence that in her “country” she didn’t have to wear such confining things under her dresses, Molly was quite firm that she had to have the proper underwear on in order not to embarrass her husband. With much grumbling, Buffy allowed the giggling girl to dress her in a tight-fitting corset that pushed her breasts up into plump mounds and huge bloomers that covered her from waist to knees.

Putting her foot down, Buffy refused to put on the stockings and garters until she was actually leaving the house, and Molly reluctantly gave in and allowed her to put on the dress and go downstairs barefoot. As she enjoyed the delicious and filling breakfast Mrs. Barstow had made for them, Buffy remembered that Spike had not had any blood since they left Sunnydale and she worried about how she was going to get it for him.

The problem was taken out of her hands when an errand boy showed up at the kitchen door saying he had a package for the Mr. Sinclair from the solicitor. Mrs. Barstow tried to take it from him, but he stubbornly insisted that he was told to give it only to Mr. Sinclair’s hand. Buffy heard Spike’s footsteps coming down the stairs and quickly intervened saying, “I’m Mrs. Sinclair. You can give the package to me and I will see that he gets it. Tell Mr. Saint-John that we are most grateful.”

She gave him her most dazzling smile and took the package out of his hand while he was busy staring in awe at the blond goddess who was speaking to him. She went into the hallway and intercepted Spike before he got to the kitchen, saying loudly enough for the other humans to hear, “William, Darling, here is the package you’ve been expecting from Mr. Saint-John.”

Giving her a grateful smile, Spike took the package into his study and placed in a locking drawer of his desk. Then he rejoined Buffy and they went back to the kitchen where he pretended to eat breakfast with her.

When Mrs. Barstow and Molly had left to go to the market, after being assured that Spike and Buffy would be perfectly all right by themselves, he carried a large glass into his study and poured the newly arrived blood into it.

Buffy watched curiously as he drained it quickly, an expression of pure delight on his face as the still-warm liquid slid over his tongue and down his throat. After watching him lean back and close his eyes, rubbing his newly filled stomach, Buffy suddenly realized why he looked so satiated.

“Oh my God! That was human blood, wasn’t it? He sent you human blood!”

The vampire opened one eye and looked at her happily.

“Yes, it was human. First I’ve had in a very long time, I might add. And it was wonderful.”

“I’ll find a butcher shop tomorrow,” Buffy vowed, ignoring his pained expression.

“Buffy-” he started.

“Spike! You cannot drink human blood! I can’t just sit here and let you—“

“Bloody hell, Slayer! It’s not like I went out and killed somebody for it! And if I ask for pig’s blood, Saint-John is going to wonder what’s going on. Don’t forget, in this time I’m part of the Scourge of Europe. I don’t drink pigs’ blood. I don’t even usually have to buy it. He’s probably wondering why I don’t just go out and get my own every night.”

Their eyes met and held as they silently battled to a standstill. Buffy realized Spike was not going to yield on this issue and she surprised both herself and him by, after several minutes, nodding her head in agreement and saying, “I guess you’re right. I’ll just have to hope the donors were willing.”

He tilted his head and studied her for a few seconds, then said simply, “Thank you.”

Buffy blushed slightly under his lengthy look and said sternly, “Well, don’t think I’m going to let you get away with that when we get home, though!”

He laughed, causing her to stick her lip out in a pout.

“I mean it!”

“Know you do, pet. I was just laughing because I’m not sure we SHOULD go back to Sunnyhell.”

“What?”

“Think about it, luv. You like being rich and waited on, I like having human blood delivered to my door….”

“You are SOOOO evil!” She couldn’t stop the grin that accompanied her words and he laughed again.

“Does that mean you’re tempted?”

Buffy sobered and said softly, “Not if it means I’ve got to have those dreams every night.”

“You didn’t have another one after I went back to my room, did you?” he asked anxiously. “I waited as long as I could, but the curtains aren’t heavy in that room and I didn’t think you’d feature waking up next to a pile of dust.”

“No,” she blushed again, “I was fine even after you…left. But I don’t know what will happen tonight…each one has been worse than the one before…”

“Got to be a warning, pet. We jus’ need to figure out what it’s warning you about.”

“I guess so. In the meantime, maybe we could sleep with the doors open…?” She looked away from Spike as she said it, so that she wouldn’t have to see if he hated the idea, but he just said calmly, “Sure, pet. That sounds like a plan.”

Her look of relief tugged at him briefly and he vowed to do what he could to prevent any more of the frightening dreams about his vampire family.

Buffy spent the rest of the day wandering around the garden and trying to read, but she found the few Victorian novels William had in his library to be hard going and wordy. By the time evening had come around and they had eaten another delicious meal, she was pacing from room to room with barely disguised impatience.

In spite of the way he laughed at her attempts to hide her desire for physical activity under a veil of lady-like behavior, Spike was getting as restless as she was for some kind of release for his pent up energy. When Molly had retreated to her bedroom and her rhythmic breathing told Spike she was asleep, he peered into Buffy’s room to find her staring out the window and bouncing on her toes.

“Fancy a spot of violence tonight, luv?” he asked teasingly, knowing she was not used to the kind of inactivity that was the lot of well-to-do Victorian women.

“Do you think we could find some?” she asked hopefully, turning around to face him.

“I’m sure we can find something or someone to beat up on, Slayer. Get out of that oversized nightie and let’s go find something to slay.”

Grabbing her least restrictive dress and her own boots, Buffy ran behind the dressing screen and quickly got ready to go out. The vampire fought down the urge to peek behind the screen and waited patiently for her near the door.

Buffy quickly came out from behind the screen, cursing the way the long dress wrapped around her legs when she tried to walk fast.

“I have got to find a way to get some pants to wear slaying,” she grumbled, twitching the hem of the skirt to make it hang straight.

“Leave it to me to marry a woman who wants to scandalize the entire population of London,” he laughed.

“I mean it, Spike! Surely the current slayer doesn’t try to fight in an outfit like this?”

“Don’t know pet, this was a little before my ‘slay the slayers’ phase. The Chinese girl was wearing pants, but that’s what the women wear in that country. Kinda like pajamas, they were…” His reminiscing trailed off as he caught a look at Buffy’s face and realized he had just blown two nights of good will by reminding her of his past activities.

“Bollocks,” he muttered as she stormed past him and down the stairs, her good mood completely forgotten.

They went quietly out the front door of the house so as not to awaken Molly, walking in tense silence for several blocks before Spike touched her arm gently to stop her and said, “Buffy, I’m sor-“

She shook her head, interrupting his attempt to apologize. “No, Spike, I’m sorry. I know what you are and what you’ve done. It’s my fault for letting myself forget that sometimes. It’s me I’m mad at, not you.”

She shrugged and continued walking, slower this time as she began to cast her senses around for any trace of demons or vampires. Spike stood staring after her for a few seconds, then hastened to catch up.

“If that was supposed to make me feel better, luv, it didn’t quite get the job done,” he said quietly once he was even with her again. “I’m not that same vampire, Buffy. You know I’m not. I’m changing – don’t know if it’s the chip or if it’s being around you so much, but whichever it is, I’ve got a different outlook about Slayers now.”

“Which would be?” She stubbornly refused to look at him until he stepped in front of her, forcing her to halt or run into his chest.

“Which would be that I could no more think about killing you than dusting myself.”

The complete seriousness of his expression and the words she knew in her heart were true, ratcheted the tension back up several notches. Her heart rate accelerated and her breathing became faster as she tried to deny the bolt of happiness that had gone through her at his words.

“Is that so?” she snarked in an effort to break the tension and put them back on a more normal footing.

“Well,” he said, just as glad as she was to drop the subject, “it would be a lie to say I never THINK about killing you. You are a really irritating bint sometimes. But I wouldn’t do it. Would make my life too boring.”

“Right back at you, fangface,” she answered with a small smile. “Now, can we go find something we DO want to kill?”

“Think it might be on it’s way, Slayer.” His voice had changed tone and he was staring up the street to where several young men loitered under a gas lamp.

Buffy looked at the small group and raised her eyebrows. “Are they vampires?”

“No, they’re human enough, but the excitement I sensed when they saw us coming tells me they see us as easy victims for them. I won’t be able to do much, pet, so I guess you get to take out your extra energy all by yourself.”

“Pooh!” Buffy pouted, “I really wanted to be able to slay something.”





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