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Chapter 18

Connor entered Angel’s apartment with a scowl and pink skin.

“Feel better?” Spike asked, his grin wide.

“Bite me,” the young man snarled, slumping into a chair.

Spike kept smirking as Angel studied the chessboard, trying to hide his amusement.

“But you look so cute wearing your pop’s things,” Spike taunted.

Connor turned to his father. “Can I stake him?”

“No. He’s family. Besides, I have first dibs,” Angel answered mildly, still studying the board.

This was an old pastime for them. At those rare times when Angelus and William would be at peace, and the women out who knows where, they’d sit and bring out the board. It was one of the few ways Angelus taught the young vamp without violence involved. The games were no less competitive now, but they cheated less.

“This is really entertainment for you two?”

“Chess is a classic game of war and strategy, pup. You could learn a thing or two,” Spike replied to the boy. “Come on, Gramps, move already!”

“That was always your problem, Spike…you never had the patience.”

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. “Call me when you enter the 21st century. Later, Dad.”

“You’re leaving already?”

“School night? I’ll probably stop by on the weekend.” He waved in the threshold, then left.

Angel’s face fell, until he remembered his company.

“It’s alright to miss him, you know,” Spike acknowledged quietly. “He’s your son.”

“What do you now about it?” his grandsire snapped.

“Had to send Dawn off to summer school every day, when Buffy was…you know.”

“Oh. It kept you going…the routine…”

“Yeah, it did. Would’ve given up, if not for that girl. She made me promise I’d be there when she got back. Being in Sunnydale after the soul…it was just as hard to face Dawn as being around Buffy, knowing I’d let her down. So, yeah…I get it.”

Angel nodded, conceding. “I forget, sometimes, when he’s not here, that he’s an adult now. He should be a toddler, not a college student…but that’s where we are, and there’s still so much… I can only get as far as he’ll let me, and I worry, you know…that I’ll screw it up. Again. Checkmate.”

“Bloody hell. Well, I’ll let you catch up with your girl…”

“Yeah…thanks, Spike. Good night.”

“G’night, Angel.”
~+~

Spike dialed Charlotte upon entering his room.

“Hello?”

“Guess who dropped by unexpectedly tonight?”

“Buffy.”

Well, that took the wind out of his sails. “Yeah, how’d you know? Have you talked to her?”

“No, you have that tone in your voice. Is this going to take long? I’m working on my lesson plan,” she replied.

“Oh…sorry to bother you, then.”

“Okay. Bye, Spike.” Click.

Spike hung up the phone, frowning. That was odd. Charlotte usually seemed happy to chat. He’d chalk it up to ‘female issues’, except it was the wrong week for that. Oh, well…he had a note to read from Buffy.

Spike,

You weren’t in, so my note will have to say “hi”, instead. Um, I’ll be around, so…catch you later.

Buffy

He chuckled. Typical Slayer – as awkward with words as ever. She was back, though…that had to mean something. Dawn wouldn’t be starting college for months, yet. He wondered where she was staying?
~+~

The next day, Buffy couldn’t decide what to do – finish getting the studio perfect for the grand opening, or go see Spike. Not that she was ready to be cookies…no sirree. Not yet. But…she wanted the friend thing. Really wanted the friend thing. Then, if she didn’t screw things up all over again, maybe more. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. They had a lot of baggage to overcome. And she wanted to see if they could be close without the smoochies. Wanted him to know “Buffy the Adult” the way he’d known “Buffy the Slayer”. That was reasonable, wasn’t it?

So, knowing he’d be awake a few hours before sunset, she changed out of her paint-covered grubbies, and decided to take him breakfast. Well, late lunch for her, but semantics didn’t matter. Dawn had mentioned at some point that he liked Mexican food, so Buffy walked to a taco stand, then took a taxi to the hotel. She felt Angel in his office, but kept on course up the stairs to Spike’s room.

“Spike, you awake?”

Buffy? Spike stubbed his cigarette and jumped into a pair of jeans. He yanked the tee shirt over his head just before unlocking the door.

Buffy blinked at his disheveled appearance. “I woke you up, didn’t I?”

Spike hastily smoothed down his hair as he stepped back to let her in. “No, no…I just haven’t gone out, yet. What’s up, luv?”

She held up the bag of food. “Breakfast slash lunch? I got Mexican. Hope that’s okay?”

“Uh, yeah…” He shoved some laundry off the chair at the table. “It’s fine… So…how long are you in town?” Spike tucked his shirt into his jeans while she took the food out of the bag and set it on the table.

“Indefinitely…you know, since Dawn will be going to school here… I, uh…I bought a place.”

Spike’s brows rose in surprise. “Oh. That’s…that’s great! A little condo for the two of you?”

“A bit more than that, actually,” she replied, blushing. “I’m opening a defense studio, for women, and there’s a place above it. One of those converted old buildings? Willow helped me find it online, and everything went so smoothly…like it was meant to be, I guess…not the greatest idea anyone’s ever heard, but I figure I can’t screw up teaching people how to fight, right?”

“Hey,” he contradicted, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short like that, pet. It’s a good idea. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” Buffy asked, smiling hopefully.

“Yeah…how many women own a business at 23, eh?”

“Yeah…okay,” feeling a little braver. “I kept thinking how brave Mom was with the art gallery, and how the pieces she brought in really meant something to her. It was natural, you know? And whether I wanted it or not, this is natural for me, and I can help people…without getting involved in an apocalypse, so…Giles fronted most of the money, but my name is on the deed. This is something lasting…I hope.” Buffy bit into her taco, thinking she’d rambled enough.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a success. Plenty of bints needing more of a clue in this city, after all. You wouldn’t believe how many are out late at night, wearing their stupid shoes…practically begging to be vamp bait.” He gestured at her with his burrito. “Humans really do most of the work for us, you know.”

“Well, here’s hoping they want to fill my bank account. Did I get your order right? I picked the thing that was spiciest with the most meat.”

“It’s good. Thanks for thinkin’ of me. When do you open shop?”

“A few days. I took a small ad out in the paper. I hope somebody will show up the first week, but if they don’t…I’ll deal. Dawn might be back early, just to see it. I told her to enjoy her trip, but…”

“The Bit does what she wants. She told me she wants to see Transylvania,” he growled.

“She what? Dracula would be all over my sister!”

“That’s what I said! I told you she should have a bloody chaperone!”

“She’s eighteen! I couldn’t make her! You think she was just pulling your leg?” Buffy asked hopefully.

“She soddin’ better have! Wouldn’t be the first time. Thinks it’s funny, she does. I’m assuming she gets it from you,” Spike replied.

“Hey! I wasn’t any trouble to my parents until after becoming the Slayer, and that was job related crap. So, what do you do here?”

“Eh…kill things for Angel’s business, go out, hang out with Charlotte…first time in my unlife that I’ve had so much free time to myself. Rather enjoyed the break.” He tossed the wrapper into the bag.

“Yeah…you and Angel getting along still freaks me out. It’s, like, against the natural order, or something,” she commented.

Spike chuckled as Buffy wrinkled up her nose. “We’ve had a year to come to an understanding of things, luv. He’s not so bad, in small doses.”

“Wow…well, I guess if me and Faith can get along…”

“Exactly. Fighting for a common goal pretty much cuts through the bullshit. How are things at Watcher Central?”

She thought for the best term. “Regimented. Giles has a schedule for things, and he and Willow get it done…I just go in when I’m needed. Xander says ‘hey’. He’s still in Africa. I had to go down there for two weeks to help him find a Slayer. I never want to see another bug or snake or…”

“That, fun, huh?” he said, laughing. She was so cute when she shuddered like a girl.

“God, you have no idea…well, maybe you do…but anyway, I was so grateful to see my bathtub again! And I love Xander, but nobody from America should be that at ease camping. And why are there still nomads in the 21st century? Anyway, we found the girl, managed to explain stuff, and then I was on a plane again.”

“Explains why I didn’t hear from you for weeks…”

Buffy blushed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was really busy…and there was that stint out of civilization. Were you mad at me?” she asked nervously.

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Disappointed, I guess. I figured that you got back to Rome, and got caught up in your new life again…can’t hold that against you.”

“I would’ve,” she mumbled under her breath. “So, is Charlotte around often? I don’t want to get in the way of any plans…”

“More so before the school year started. She got to L.A. about the same time I did, so we’ve sort of bonded over not being at home…. she’s been a good listener…”

Buffy nodded. “It’s good that you’re close…to someone…”

“Yeah…so…are you free the rest of the day?”

“Sort of. I mean, I don’t have any appointments, but there’s stuff to do before the opening…and the apartment is still full of boxes.”

“Well, I’ve got two working hands if you’d like some help,” Spike offered, holding up his arms.

She laughed at herself. “I probably need it. I haven’t even sorted out which boxes go in which bedroom!”

“They’re labeled, aren’t they?”

“Yeah…”

“Then it’s no problem. It’s what friends do, right? Help each other move?”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah.”
~+~

So, she might have stared as Spike’s arm muscles rippled and flexed as he moved the boxes. Just a little. She definitely didn’t drool. Nope, just admired a friend’s physique for a couple minutes…or maybe ten.

You’re doomed, Summers.

Wasn’t really her fault…really. The most she’d done with a guy was heavy petting since before Spike got his soul. Was it that absurd that she’d drool a little now? It was that she was turned on…just from watching…just…appreciative. Yeah. And wistful.

He felt her eyes on him, of course. Always did. It was a sign of the new Spike, though, that he didn’t call her on it. Which still seemed weird, even now. Buffy was pretty sure he showed off just a little more, though. While she pretended not to be looking.

They were taking a break, now, mainly because she was dying of thirst. Spike was sipping from one of the beers she’d bought him as payment while she guzzled a bottle of water. Damn vampires and their not feeling the heat.

“Wow, I actually have room for furniture now,” she mused.

“What happened to your stuff in Rome?”

“Left it there. Most of it came with the apartment. And have you seen the freight prices for sending stuff overseas? Ouch! The only big items I sent over were our mattresses. Neither of us wanted to break in a new sleep dent all over again. Don’t tell Giles that I expensed it to the Council.”

“Cross my heart, pet.” He toed the floor with his boot. “These wood floors won’t look half bad with a bit of wax and polish.”

“Huh?”

“The old kind, that aren’t coated in urethane? You have to maintain them with wood soap and such.”

“Can’t I just cover it with carpet?” she whined.

Spike looked offended. “No, you can’t just…! They’re part of the original aesthetic!”

“You are so old!” she giggled.

“Angel would agree with me,” the vampire grumbled, pouting deeper as she laughed.

“Not helping your case, Spike!” laughing harder.

“Oh, shut up!”
~+~

The following weeks went well – too well, really, for these heroes to relax completely. They all knew, like a niggle in the back of their minds, that trouble always reared its head when you felt the most comfortable. The two vampires felt it most of all – Spike, because he’d never shied from reality, and Angel because he never trusted feeling the slightest bit happy. They would enjoy the peace as long as it last, though.

The only thing that outwardly troubled Spike was the way Charlotte seemed to be pulling away without reason. She frequently seemed distracted, and they were down to only seeing each other at all on weekends. Spike couldn’t remember doing anything offensive, and she never mentioned it, either. He was thoroughly confused. It probably would have bothered him more, if he weren’t spending so much time with Buffy.

They hadn’t moved beyond the friend level, but time together was steadily getting more comfortable, and he loved seeing her laugh and smile because of something he said. After three weeks, the studio was bringing in a small profit, and the constant exercise kept the Slayer from feeling restless or bored. Spike would come observe her night class, then, they’d either get food or hunt down the latest demon for Angel’s clients. Dawn openly expressed how happy she was that they were getting along so well.

She was coming home for Thanksgiving. There hadn’t really been one since Joyce was alive. Buffy was too broke the year she was resurrected, and everyone had forgot until the last minute the next year because of all the trouble with the First. And last year, they weren’t in the States in November. So, Dawn charged her sister to be on the ball this year and ready for a feast. They had stuff to be thankful for.

Spike pushed and prodded Angel until he went to the Muses about his soul. The plan was kept secret, just in case something went wrong. Angel trusted his grandchilde to do what was necessary in that case. They could have gone to Willow – she was certainly powerful enough – but it would most likely get back to Buffy, and…that was a conversation best avoided. Having his soul anchored was intensely personal to Angel. It wasn’t about freedom. He wanted to ensure that no one he loved or cared about ever had to worry about Angelus again. And it was time to move on from self-flagellation. Guilt wouldn’t bring anyone back from the grave.

The event itself was surprisingly simple. He hardly felt it. There was warmth, then a moment of blacking out, then the Muses were saying their work was done.

“That’s it?”

“Mmm…it is done.”

“You’re sure it’s really locked down in there…” Spike confirmed.

“We have done as you asked,” they sighed. “Our debt is repaid…”

Spike turned to Angel as the ethereal beings drifted away. “Is there a way we can test it?”

“Maybe an aura reading?”

Spike hummed in agreement. “Too bad Glinda’s gone. She had a knack for it. I suppose you could just not think about the guilt?”

Angel shook his head. “Doesn’t work like that. It’s a bit less…conscious, deliberate. Lorne could tell us.”

“Yeah, but he buggered off to who knows where. Might not be too delighted to see us.”

“Still…it’s been months…maybe we could just look in on him?”

Spike couldn’t blame him for missing a good friend and confidant. “Let me find ‘im. Then, if he’s willin’, you can talk. He left for a good reason.”

Angel’s head dropped. “I know. I didn’t want to ask him to do that, but he was the only one Lindsey would drop his game around for. Still…I don’t suppose he’ll ever forgive me for that. Probably shouldn’t.”

“He could have said no, mate. We all had a choice. Anyway…we can find a witch. Probably even local. Plenty of hippy types in L.A.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Angel sighed, feeling his years. “I do feel a bit different.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“The demon’s quieter. Is that how it is for you?”

Spike shook his head. “My demon went willingly, remember? The blood rage is subdued, though. I feel more in balance, and those grey areas are easier to decipher than before. But you know about that part.”

“Some days. Let’s go home.”

So all was going well. Routines had been established, grief had faded away, and bonds were forged or strengthened. Halloween was coming soon.

And so was trouble.





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