[Reviews - 93]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4320 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 8

Sunrise was an hour away, and Spike was still sitting on the airplane that was making its way across the American skies and closer to his Slayer. But because of an unexpected delay, it was quite possible that the plane might not get in until just after sunset, and then, Spike knew, he was in for a world of pain. Luckily, he’d remembered his trusty blanket just in case. Still, the idea of the sun on his face wasn’t as bad as that of getting to Buffy and having her rejecting him, or worse. He knew that if she turned her back on him, it’d hurt worse than any ray of sun or wooden stake ever could. But he had to stiffen up. He couldn’t show her how much power she had over him, because then he’d be under her spell for the rest of eternity. That didn’t seem so bad, really.

He sighed and leaned back against the seat. He wanted her like he’d wanted no other before. Just the thought of her and her soft, pink lips made him harden on the spot. If he cared, it would be rather embarrassing, but after living over a hundred years not caring about what humans thought of him in any state, he was only mildly embarrassed by the sudden bulge in his jeans.

“Attention fliers, this is your captain speaking. We’ll be landing at L.A.X. in approximately twenty minutes…” If Spike’s heart had been beating, it would have pounded through his sternum and taken a flying leap around the coach compartment of the airplane. He gripped the armrests of his seat, and he closed his eyes, thinking about what was about to happen. He was going to see her for the first time in months. He was going to look into the last pair of eyes he’d looked at and seen true love for him. Her. His Slayer.

***

“Angel?” Fred asked, knocking on the early riser’s office door. Sunrise wasn’t too far away, and since business started early, she figured she’d drop off his morning’s blood before Harmony screwed it up in the employee lounge. “Morning blood?”

“I have a secretary to get me that,” he said quietly. “But thanks.” She smiled and placed it down on his desk a little nervously. “What’d you do?”

“Can’t I bring my good friend his morning blood without having done something?” He glanced at her skeptically, and she sighed. “It’s like you see right through me. Alright, I sort of told Spike about…about Buffy being here.”

“You what?” Angel asked, a little less angrily than she’d expected. He was still seated.

“He called, and I couldn’t just not say anything. Who knows when he’d call again.” Angel sighed and rubbed his temples. The headaches that always seemed to come on strong when Spike was around were already beginning.

“It’s alright, Fred. Gotta get this over with sooner or later.”

“Get what over with? You know…and I don’t mean this to sound like it does, but it doesn’t really involve you, does it? I mean, she came to you for help, but Spike’s the father. You know, he’s important to her.”

“Yeah,” Angel said, feeling suddenly useless. “But she did come to me. And something tells me Spike’s not gonna have a clue about the prophecy. Something also tells me that as much of an idiot he can be, he’s not going to want to sit around and wait for the prophecy to come true. He might be a selfish bastard, but he won’t want to see Buffy die. Not when he’s just come back.”

“Not at all. Look, Spike might be a little…”

“Annoying,” Angel said pointedly.

“Well, I suppose, but he’s got a good heart.”

“His heart doesn’t even beat!”

“Neither does yours,” Fred pointed out. Angel sighed. She had him there. “You both have souls, so what makes him so bad? You were both vampires once, and I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but you’ve both done some pretty terrible things. So now that he has a soul…”

“Alright, Fred. You made your point.” Angel knew there was no convincing her that Spike was the wrong kind of guy to side with. Though, he had helped them through some tight situations in the past few months, the fact that he’d constantly been there as a reminder of what Buffy had lowered herself to had always been there in front of Angel’s face. How could she see anything in Spike? How could she ever… Then he had to remind himself that he’d left. He’d let her go, and she was free to make her own decisions. But…why Spike?

***

Spike had managed to make his way to the safety of a quiet house just on the outskirts of town before the sun came up. He pulled the curtains closed and decided to make himself at home until the sun went down. He couldn’t wait to see her again. The fact that he was so close, yet he couldn’t get to her was killing him. Well, if it was even possible to strengthen his status as the living dead.

As he made his way through the house, he saw pictures of children lining the walls. They looked rather recent. A thin coating of dust lined the shelves and table tops. Family must be on vacation, he thought. And then it hit him. If a family still lived here, they had a phone. A phone meant he could get to Buffy; meant he could see her sooner than he’d though.

His entire being tensed up at the thought of seeing her again, but that anxiety was nothing in comparison to the elation he felt at knowing his Slayer was going to be in his arms again.

“No, you ponce,” he breathed to himself. “Don’t think that.” Just because she’d said it didn’t make it true anymore. No, he couldn’t get his hopes up. He couldn’t expect one thing and have it thrown back in his face. He had to wait and see.

He found a phone hanging on the wall next to the refrigerator and picked it up. Hearing the dial tone, he let out an unnecessary breath and dialed the number. Within moments, a cheery voice answered.

“Wolfram and Hart. This is Harmony, how can I help you?”

“Harm, it’s me.”

“Spikey? I mean…Spike? What do you want?” He had to admit it was kind of adorable when she tried to act mad at him. Yeah, he’d treated her terribly, but now he was having a hell of an amusing time wondering just how Angel kept around a soulless vampire who was less annoying in life.

“I need to talk to Buffy.”

“Well she’s not here. She’s sleeping or something. Angel doesn’t want her disturbed.”

“Course he doesn’t,” Spike said with a shake of his head. “Well, you’ll get a message to her for me, won’t you, luv?”

“What makes you think I’m gonna help you? Just because we had sex years ago doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

“No, no of course not. But I know you’ll help me. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, I might just have to tell Angel about that little slip up you had a month ago, where you bit that accountant and nearly drained him…”

“What? That never happened!” she exclaimed angrily.

“Who do you think he’s going to believe, Harm? Sure, we both annoy the hell out of him, but let’s see, I have a soul, and you don’t. Oh, and you do seem to have a seething hatred for the Slayer. One which I don’t have.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one that wants to get into the Slayer’s pants.”

“Yeah? But I think he’d rather have her shagging me than dead, don’t you?”

“Ugh! Fine! This is so blackmail! And it’s fake blackmail, because I didn’t do anything!” She sighed, knowing Spike was right. Angel would never believe her, even if he couldn’t stand Spike. “Alright. Fine. What’s the message?”

***

Buffy stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She examined her figure in the full length mirror, placing her hand against her pale, bulging belly. Reaching into her bag, she found the cream her doctor had recommended to minimize the appearance of stretch marks. She wondered if being a Slayer gave her the ability to bounce back after the birth. She figured not, since most Slayers never lived long enough to be mothers. Still, she was a little curious to find out.

She applied to cold cream, and when it was dry, she finished dressing, applied just a touch of makeup and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. She looked good, except, she noticed, her eyes were a little glazed over. She knew it was because while she had slept, she’d been a little restless, and she’d mostly dreamed of him.

She pulled on her shoes. They were sneakers, nothing stylish yet affordable. Her feet hurt too bad to wear those anymore.

She checked her phone for any messages, and she was disappointed to find nothing except a silly pix message from Dawn. She and Andrew had been sightseeing, and the picture came with a message that said “wish you were here.” Buffy smiled, but that quickly turned into a frown, as she realized just how much she missed her friends and her sister.

She was in L.A. with Angel, yet she felt so alone. He was a friend, yes, but things were so different now. Everything had changed, and while not much longer than a year ago, she’d have gladly taken comfort in his arms after her life had fallen to pieces, things between them had changed. She looked at him and felt love for him, but it wasn’t like it used to be. Nothing had been after she’d seen the man Spike had become.

A knock on the apartment door startled Buffy, but she got up and made her way to the door, where she was surprised to find Harmony.

“Don’t worry, I can’t come in. I know, you’d think that at a place like this…well, anyway…”

“What do you want, Harmony?”

“I have a message for you,” Harmony scoffed. “Geez, you don’t have to be so rude.” Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes and rub her temples. Harmony always gave her quite a headache. Why hadn’t she staked her long ago?

“Okay. What is it?”

“Here,” Harmony said quickly. “I have other messages to deliver. Geez, I can’t stick around all day.” She roughly handed the folded up piece of paper to the Slayer and flounced off to do whatever it was she did during her work day.

Buffy closed the door and frowned as she unfolded the piece of paper. She didn’t quite believe her eyes as she read Harmony’s flower handwriting.

“Spike called. 1395 Wilshire Blvd. Meet ASAP.” She first tried to convince herself that this was some cruel trick played by Harmony, but she’d come to realize that Harmony enjoyed her job at Wolfram and Hart, and if this was some sort of a set up, Angel would have her out on the street at high noon as soon as he got word.

This was real. He was here. And he was waiting for her.

“Oh my God.”





You must login (register) to review.