Title: Caught Between Two Lovers
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks!
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: A retelling of Spike and
Buffy's first meeting. Starts in early
season 2. For the purpose of the
story, Angel does not exist and Spike
is a little....different.
Part Forty-four...
As Long As You Love Me
~~~~~~~~~~
"Although loneliness has always
been a friend of mine,
I'm leaving my life in your hands
People say I'm crazy and that I am blind
Risking it all in a glance..."
~~~~~~~~~~
William watched as Joyce carried the teacups
back to the kitchen, then leaned over and
spoke quietly in Buffy's ear. "Don't give up now,
luv. We're almost through the first phase."
Buffy had sagged back into the sofa cushions as
her mother left the room. She would have liked
a little time to savor her initial success, but knew
she wasn't likely to get it. Unfortunately, the nerve
and bravado she carried so effortlessly about on
her nocturnal jaunts was fast deserting her.
"Do we have to do it all in one night?" she whis-
pered, keeping her fingers crossed and trying to
look as appealingly earnest as she could manage.
"Why don't we save something for tomorrow night,
or...or maybe next weekend?"
But he just shook his head. "Baby, listen to me...your
mother deserves to know it all. It'll be a lot easier on
you if you just get it over with now."
"I don't think so," she fretted. "Besides...I haven't
even thought of the right way to tell her. I mean....this
isn't the sort of thing you just casually mention."
He caught her chin in his hand and made her
look at him. "You can do this, slayer," he said
firmly. "You can do anything you put your mind
and heart to. Remember who you are....remember
WHAT you are."
"I'm trying." She brought her hand up and placed it
over his. "But I'm afraid. She's...."
"No, you're not." He shook his head and spoke over
her. "You don't have a cowardly bone in your body!"
**Oh, if only THAT were true then life would be a lot
easier..** You just keep telling me that," she said,
steeling her spine as well as she could.
"I will."
That tiny infusion of confidence instilled by his
brief words was exactly what she needed. It
gave her the courage to turn and face her mother
as Joyce walked back into the room.
"Mom...there's more," she blurted, jumping to her feet
and trying for a brisk, matter-of-fact attitude by placing
her hands on her hips and assuming a determined
stance.
"More what?" Joyce asked, glancing from Buffy to
William, then back to Buffy.
"More....more to tell you." Buffy swallowed hard. "And
you'd better sit down....'cause it's big. Majorly big. Oh,
boy....is it big."
Joyce lowered herself into her armchair, visibly trying
to prepare herself for what sounded like it was going to
be a nasty surprise. "All right....fire away."
Buffy's hands were freezing cold, but she could still
feel sweat beginning to trickle down her back, making
her itch. "Okay, well...it's like this....You see, I....do you
maybe want a drink or something?"
Her mother stared at her, eyes widening with alarm. "Is
is THAT bad?" Joyce asked softly, hoping like hell she
was going to be able to take whatever it was her child
was finding so hard to say.
A thousand horrible imaginings raced through her mind
at once, ranging from previously undetected illness to
expulsion from school to the possibility of law enforce-
ment showing up at the door.
Lacing her fingers together, she shook her head,
declining Buffy's offer to bring her something alcoholic
to cushion whatever blow was coming her way.
"Just tell me what you need to tell me, honey," she
said, attempting to look enencouragingly maternal,
with fortitude enough to take anything. "I don't
need a drink."
~~~~~~~~~~
"And how you got me blind is still a mystery
I can't get you out of my head
I don't care what's written in your history
As long as you're here with me..."
~~~~~~~~~~
"A little more?" William asked, holding the
scotch bottle over Joyce's quickly emptied glass.
The ice tinkled against the crystal clutched in her
shaking fingers. "Maybe....just a drop."
He poured another finger of scotch into the glass,
then sat down with the bottle still in his hand, ready
to refill should she require it.
Buffy was back on the sofa, her small fingers
digging into the throw pillow her grandmother had
hand embroidered and her teeth sunk painfully
into her lower lip....waiting.
Joyce tossed back the scotch, then placed her glass
carefully on the coffee table. Folding her hands to-
gether, she finally turned to face her daughter.
"All right," she said calmly. "Let's take it from the
top. You're a...?"
Buffy's voice was a bit wobbly, but audible. "A
vampire slayer."
"You mean vampires really...exist? With teeth
and blood and...so on?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you....."
Buffy waited a moment, then filled in the blank
again. "Slay them."
"With a.....?"
"Stake. Usually."
"Usually?"
"Yeah....sometimes I....I cut off their.." She drew her
forefinger across the front of her neck. "That works,
too."
Joyce was silent for a moment, then asked, "And how
did you get this job?"
"Well, I didn't apply for it," Buffy mumbled. "It just
sort of....found me. It's not exactly a job," she added.
"It's more of a...kind of a...."
"Calling," William supplied.
"Yeah. That." Her gaze met his for a moment,
then rested once again on her mother. "I was
sort of...chosen for it."
"Chosen...by whom?" Joyce asked, wondering
briefly if she was in the middle of some preposterous
dream and whether there was a possibility of waking
up from it anytime soon.
That hope died hard after digging her nails rather
painfully into the palms of her hands and coming
to the conclusion that she was definitely awake.
Unfortunately, this was all too real.
Buffy opened her mouth to reply, then looked a
bit perplexed. "I'm not...totally sure. I should
probably ask Giles. He would know."
Joyce frowned, recognizing the name. "Mr. Giles
from your school? The school librarian? THAT Mr.
Giles?"
"Um, yeah....that's him."
"What does HE have to do with all this?"
"He's my Watcher?"
"Your watcher? You mean he watches you when
you...when you go and.....?"
"Slay vampires," Buffy said. "But that's not ALL
he does," she went on quickly, feeling a sudden
need to beef up Giles' participation in the fun and
games that made up her life.
"I see. Well, what else does he do?" Joyce asked,
massaging her temples to keep her head from
exploding.
"Oh....lots of stuff. Research and.....um...."
Her mother gave her a speculative look, waiting.
"Well, research is important," Buffy stressed. "It's
a very key element in the whole slayer...thing.
Really very....VERY key."
William, who'd been silent to this point,
added, "He trains her, teaches her how to fight,
how to use her weapons. You might call it hand-
to-hand combat."
"Yes! Yes, he does all that, too." Buffy eagerly
jumped on to his explanation, smiling a little too
brightly. "Thank you."
Joyce wasn't quite ready to move on yet. "But if
he can train you...teach you all these...well, Buffy,
he's a grown man. You're just a sixteen year old
girl. If he can do it, why isn't HE the...you know?"
"Because they didn't choose him," Buffy said. "They
chose ME. Slayers are girls, they always have been."
"How many of you are there?" Joyce asked.
"You mean at the moment?" Buffy looked
down, picking at a loose embroidery thread. "Just
one," she said softly, silently praying that her mother
wouldn't force her to reveal the reason there was
always a new slayer waiting for the present one to
exit stage left.
The threads were unraveling in Buffy's fingers as
she shot William a pleading glance.
He smiled so slightly that the expression wouldn't
have even registered with anyone but her.
Small as the gesture was, it helped her to remember
exactly why she was finally fessing up to her mother
about her nightly activity.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I don't care who you are
Where you're from, what you did
As long as you love me..."
~~~~~~~~~~
Joyce turned to William. "Did you know about
this?"
"I did, yes," he admitted.
"And you approve?"
"It's not my place to approve or disapprove.
This is what she is," he said simply.
As he sat there, he was beginning to wonder if
it might not be better to hold back HIS particular
surprise for another day, to give her time to adjust
and get to know him.
If he could show her by words and deeds that he
wasn't precisely the same vampire he'd been
before meeting her daughter, it could quite
possibly win her to their side when it was time
to break the news to Buffy's watcher and her
friends.
He cared less than nothing for their opinions,
but he knew that Buffy was going to need all
the help she could get, and support from her
mother would no doubt go a long way.
"Joyce....Buffy isn't like other girls her age," he
said. "She has....abilities. It's part of what makes
her a slayer, and it's what makes her so good at
it."
"But isn't it dangerous?"
"For the vampires?" He permitted himself a small
grin. "Very."
~~~~~~~~~~
"Every little thing
That you have said and done
Feels like it's deep within me
Doesn't really matter if you're on the run
It seems like we're meant to be..."
~~~~~~~~~~
Joyce felt like she was foundering in a sea of con-
fusion and disbelief.
Vampires! Vampires actually existed somewhere
other than in books and on movie screens. It was
a difficult concept to wrap ones head around, and
all she had to fall back on was the scanty knowledge
she'd picked up from those books and movies.
And who knew if that could really be depended on?
Vampires bit people's necks and drained them of
their blood, she knew that much. They seemed to
be uncommonly strong and in possession of the
ability to mesmerize their victims into compliance.
Sometimes, instead of just killing their prey, they
instead made them into vampires as well, although
she seemed to remember that it took more than a
mere bite to accomplish it.
There was more, she knew. Something to do with
crosses and holy water, and hadn't she heard some-
thing about garlic, too? Coffins. Mirrors. Transmog-
rification into wolves and bats and chill mists.
So bizarre. So unimaginable. So inconceivable,
that such things truly existed.
But as strangely impossible as all that surely was,
it was outweighed by the stomach churning notion
that Buffy....her five foot nothing, 98 pounds soaking
wet daughter...was some sort of supernatural
exterminator.
If it WAS all true, the world was in a pretty
sorry place. But if it WASN'T true, then Buffy's
choo-choo had definitely jumped the track.
At the moment, she couldn't decide which of
those two choices was preferable.
"What are these abilities you have?" she
asked.
The fully opened rose stitched into the pillow
was becoming a bud beneath Buffy's destructive
touch. "Well," she said, "For one thing...I'm really
strong."
"How strong?"
"Oh...I'm pretty strong," Buffy replied, going to
work on the rose's stem. "I could lift this couch
over my head if I wanted to....."
Joyce's jaw sagged.
"....and toss it....oh, maybe twenty feet or
so." Buffy peeked up through her bangs. "I can
run really fast, too, and I can jump a ten foot
retaining wall from a dead stop. Oh, and I can
hit a bullseye with a knife from about a hundred
feet away."
"You throw knives?"
"Um...yeah. Sometimes."
"Are they made of wood?"
The unexpected question threw Buffy for a
moment. "No."
"Then how do you slay vampires with them? I
thought they had to be.." Joyce swallowed
hard. "...staked through the heart with wood."
"Well, that's true," Buffy said. "But I slay other
things, too. Other kinds of demons."
Joyce closed her eyes for a moment, shaking
her head. "How many 'other kinds' of demons
ARE there?"
"Oh, gee....too many to count."
Upon hearing that, Joyce picked up her glass and
held it out to William. "I'll say 'when'. "
~~~~~~~~~~
"I don't care who you are
Where you're from, what you did
As long as you love me
Who you are, where you're from
Don't care what you did
As long as you love me..."
~~~~~~~~~~
"So, aside from the things you've already
mentioned, do you have any other special
abilities?" Joyce asked.
Buffy thought for a moment. "I know seven
different martial arts." She counted on her
fingers. "I can use a sword, a crossbow, a
quarter staff, axes, staves, daggers, spears,
and a bullwhip."
William turned to look at her. "A bullwhip?"
he asked softly. "Really?"
She nodded earnestly. "Mm-hmm."
"I don't suppose I can just forbid you to be
'the slayer', can I?"
"Well, you COULD," Buffy said, "but I'd still
have to do it."
Joyce pondered the reply. "I can lock you
in your room and nail the window shut."
Knowing exactly what Buffy was about to say,
a small smile tugged at the corner of William's
mouth.
"Yes, but I can break the lock and pull the nails
out," Buffy said seriously, completely missing the
resigned and slightly amused tone in her
mother's voice.
Weaving only a little, more from a lingering
shock to her nerves than the alcohol she'd
consumed, Joyce rose to her feet. "Maybe
sometime...you can show me. This is obviously
a big part of your life, and I should see just
exactly what you do."
Buffy stood up, wiping her clammy palms on
the seat of her jeans. "Oh, good idea," she said
cheerily, while inside she was screaming 'no'
so loudly that the blood was pounding in her
ears.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I've tried to hide it so that no one knows
But I guess it shows
When you look into my eyes
What you did and where you're coming from
I don't care, as long as you love me, baby..."
~~~~~~~~~~
Behind Joyce's turned back, William also stood
up and met Buffy's gaze. He smiled at her, lifting
the scotch bottle in his hand to acknowledge
her courage, telling her with his eyes that he was
proud of her.
The battles still to come could be fought another
day. His beautiful and brave little slayer was all
worn out.
Maybe it was time for her to have a little fun.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I don't care who you are
Where you're from, what you did
As long as you love me...."
~~~~~~~~~~
TBC.....
(Talk to me!)
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