Chapter 9
By the time Buffy and Spike returned to the mansion with the final load of supplies, the Gourlack demons lead by Hassfarini had gotten all of the bedrooms as well as the kitchen in order. The little demons certainly lived up to their reputation of being quick and efficient cleaners, especially since they had cleaned seven rooms including the kitchen as well as dressed all the beds, even in the spare rooms. The bathrooms both upstairs and down were spotless as well with running hot water which would certainly come in handy.
“Wow,” Buffy whispered as she entered the bedroom she had chosen, seeing it in all its glory for the first time. It was decorated in shades of forest green with a beautiful four poster bed stationed in the center of one wall. The upturned table and chairs had been placed carefully near the built-in fireplace and the Gourlacks had chosen a midnight blue comforter for the massive bed. The duffel bag she had carelessly tossed inside earlier that day had been placed at the base of the bed and a beautiful armoire stood open and ready for anything she would need to hang.
“Is it to your liking, Mistress?” Hassfarini asked as she appeared at Buffy’s side silently.
“Yes, I’ve never seen this place look so amazing,” Buffy’s voice was filled with wonder. It may have been Angel’s old place, but the gang would certainly be living in luxury while in hiding.
“We decided no to touch the gardens outside, Mistress,” Hassfarini continued. “It would make the mansion appeared inhabited and we assumed this was not desired.”
“No, you’re right. Thank you,” Buffy turned to look at the demoness. She paused for a minute, taking in the odd situation before looking at the small blue creature in the eyes. “Thank you for all the work you’ve done here. I don’t know what Anya has arranged to pay you…”
“No payment necessary,” the creature shrugged off with a motion from her hand. “Your services by equalizing the balance is payment enough for us. It will allow us to return to how things were.”
“I will do my best,” Buffy assured the demon.
Hassfarini nodded and disappeared back out into the main part of the house to aid in the last few tasks. Buffy indulged herself by flexing her tired muscles after depositing the bag of weapons she still had hanging over her shoulder on the floor. She would have to look through the whole house before settling down for a few hours of much needed sleep before her mother and watcher joined them.
The Slayer shut the door to her room softly and stared at Spike’s closed door across the hall. She’d just tell him where she was going, in case he wanted to learn the layout as well. He probably hadn’t spent much time upstairs the last time he had been in the mansion. It didn’t seem like it was too wheelchair accessible and she doubted that Angelus or Dru would have brought him up there. She took a few decisive steps across the hall and knocked softly before cracking the door open.
“Come in,” the vampire called out and looked surprised when Buffy’s face popped behind the door.
“Just seeing if you wanted to check out the upstairs level with me,” she said, glancing around the massive bedroom Spike had chosen. It was possibly more luxurious than her room, dark wood and navy blue detailing all around the walls. There was a fireplace in this room as well, along with a desk, table and chair arrangement which matched hers. There was even a matching armchair which had been angled to get the most amount of heat from the fireplace when lit. The platinum blond’s bed was decorated in shades of black and red, causing Buffy to smile. It was as sinful as the occupant.
“Sure,” Spike said, picking weapons out of the bag he’d tossed onto the bed. “Better make sure everything’s locked up tight before your mum comes. The witches said they’d be by in the mornin’ to set up the wards, right?”
“Yeah, Willow said she would be here before sunrise just in case the commandos started surveillance at her place,” Buffy leaned against the doorframe waiting until Spike had tucked away a few of the battle axes and short swords into the chest at the base of his bed.
“We don’ have much time then, luv,” he replied following her up the staircase.
Buffy nodded and set about checking each and every corner of the rooms upstairs while Spike went to investigate on his own. They were all as richly decorated as the ones in the first floor, giving her the impression they were in a European noble estate. They were decorated in shades of yellow, green, violet, and blue. Each of them had beautiful furniture and lavish drapes over large windows with view to the expensive property standing behind the manor. Each one had a personality all its own influenced by the color scheme of choice. The yellow room, for example, where Joyce would be sleeping was cheerful.
Willow and Tara would be staying in the violet room since Buffy figured it wouldn’t go over well with the boys. It boasted a large fireplace and soft, feminine decorative touches littered the room. Hassfarini and her fellow workers had filled the room with fresh flowers from the garden outside, giving the entire place a very homey feel. Buffy smiled from the doorway, feeling a little better about displacing all of her friends for the next few weeks.
Giles would occupy the stately green room which could have passed for a library. The thought made Buffy giggle as she took in the dark oak bookshelves which lined one of the far walls and the small sofa situated under the window to allow the most amount of light for reading. The rest of the decor was a little more Spartan than the other, more luxurious bedrooms, but Buffy figured the books would more than make up for it. Besides, it’s not like Giles was too interested in big, lavish digs. She’d seen his bedroom at his apartment. Not a love nest by a long shot.
She shook her head before heading back downstairs to organize her own room and wait for her best friend to come and set up the wards around the mansion.
Buffy had never even thought to look around the place while Angel lived in it, more interested in the occupant than the massive mansion he’d picked to live in. The brunet vampire had kept himself to the sparsely decorated living room whenever she’d been around and she had honestly never thought further than that, so she was very surprised at how beautiful it really was.
“All clear,” Spike said, coming up to stand behind her.
“Good,” Buffy replied, rolling her head around on her shoulders attempting to ease some of the strain on her tired neck. “Should we wait for Willow?”
“I can wait for her if you like,” he answered preceding her down the stairs. “If you wanna get some kip.”
“Not sure that’s such a great idea yet,” the blonde said as she collapsed onto one of the leather sofas. “Willow may trust you more than Xander or Giles, but I’m not sure she’ll be comfortable enough around you.”
Spike grinned happily at that and Buffy raised her eyebrow with a soft smile.
“What? ‘M evil,” Spike said with a lazy smile as he lit the cigarette dangling from his lips. They had made a special detour on their way to the mansion for him to buy a carton of cigarettes much to Buffy’s objection. But at least he had paid for it.
“Sure you are, very evil,” Buffy replied, not able to resist goading the vampire. When he started to pout, she burst out laughing. “That makes you look oh-so-scary Mr. The Bloody.”
“Whatever, Slayer,” Spike grumbled, hiding his own smile by taking a long drag of his cigarette.
“What would you have done if I hadn’t been at the Initiative?” Buffy asked, curious about the vamp’s apparent chameleonic adaptability. She could only imagine he would have found a way out on his own without a problem. But what he would have done afterwards was a whole other story. After his reluctant confession that he didn’t want to kill her anymore, she couldn’t help being curious.
“Dunno,” Spike replied eyes locked with hers. He stared at her for a while contemplating the question. “Reckon I would have tried to find a way to feed. An’ if I couldn’t, I probably would have gone to you.”
“To me?” Buffy frowned, thrown by his answer.
“Yeah.” Spike looked away and tossed the cigarette butt into the empty fireplace. “Probably would have figured the white hats wouldn’t turn me away. ‘Sides you always had a soft spot for me,” He threw her a leer meant to amuse her and deflect further questions.
“As if,” Buffy said, a faint blush staining her cheeks pink.
“Spin me another yarn, Slayer. You never did get into killing me,” he replied, long legs stretching out in front of him.
“Don’t flatter yourself, fang face,” Buffy muttered. “I just never had a good enough chance. Almost had you on parent teacher night, though,” she said, lifting her chin in the air to feign superiority.
“You had me?” Spike let out a bark of laughter. “If it weren’t for your mum you’d be six feet under right now.”
Buffy’s eyes shifted away, goose bumps rising on her arms at the truth behind that statement. She had never really liked looking back at her near-death experiences even though Giles always said they were perfect situations to learn from. She’d never told him what happened that night, though. How close she had truly come to dying… again.
“Hey,” Spike touched her arm and she jumped at the sensation. “Made it through that too, pet.” Genuine concern glowed from the depth of his eyes, a frown marring his handsome features.
“I know,” Buffy replied, strangely comforted when Spike dropped a reassuring hand onto her shoulder. “It’s not that. It’s all of this – everything that’s happened. I’m just shaken,” Buffy admitted, unsure of when acknowledging her fears had become a normal thing for her to do with Spike. But when he looked up at her with those too-blue eyes of his and a soft, sad smile she found it hard to care about the reasons why. He had been there with her. He had seen what they had done to her. No one else would ever know. They never could.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike watched the haunted look passing through Buffy’s clear green eyes. She had been back in that place too many times tonight. The Initiative and the Council’s betrayal had both shaken her beliefs about humans quite strongly he suspected. He sat beside her as she started to unwind the bandage that encased her forearm, wanting to check on the progress of her healing himself. When she revealed the deep reddish purple gash that had yet to seal completely, he had to bite back the growl that rose unbidden to his throat.
“It’s gonna scar,” she said softly, running a fingertip along the length of the incision.
He could smell her tears before they made tracks down her soft cheeks. Buffy swiped at them angrily, obviously not wanting to express any weakness in front of her sometime enemy. Spike felt his heart tighten in his chest as her frustration only added to the torrent of tears.
Without a word, he tugged her into his arms, allowing her to finally let herself go. He couldn’t judge her after living through the same brutal and inhumane experiments and held her tighter as heavy sobs racked through her small frame. She clung desperately to him, burying her face in his throat, allowing herself a moment of release.
There had been a few nights after a particularly sadistic experiment or a terrifying nightmare where he’d sensed her crying beside him. The first time, he’d awkwardly crawled over to her and patted her shoulder. Later, after they had started sleeping next to each other so they could plot their escape, he’d pulled her close and held her as she sobbed silently against him. A couple of nights he’d pulled her closer because he needed some kind of comfort, as well. She had never said anything, just burrowed closer to him and fallen back into dreamless sleep while he held on to her.
They wouldn’t talk about this tomorrow. They would go on as if it never happened. But for the moment until her sobs quieted and her tears ran dry, Spike took on her burden and let her be a wounded girl instead of the powerful Slayer. And to say it didn’t affect him would have been an outright lie. The time of denial was long gone for him now. He cared for her.
Buffy’s sobs gradually quieted to low sniffling, her tired body melting further into him, her soft curves molding themselves to the hard planes of his body. The torrent of emotion had exhausted the girl even further, her hands weakly wringing the edge of his t-shirt between her fingers. When her hands accidentally brushed against the cool skin of his stomach, it was all the vampire could do to remain calm.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped as she pulled away, cheeks flushed pink and eyes rimmed with red. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’ worry, pet,” Spike said, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. “Secret’s safe with me.”
He pulled Buffy’s head back down to his shoulder silently, running his hands up and down her back in reassurance. She gradually relaxed against him again, her breathing evening out as the last of her tears dried up. Spike rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent as she sat so trustingly in his lap. They stayed in that position for long moments until Buffy stirred; apparently ready to leave the protective bubble that seemed to have formed around the duo.
She looked up at him then, eyes impossibly greener than before. Before he knew what she was planning she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Her lips were warm and soft against his. He didn’t even have time to react before she pulled away, eyes sparkling with some emotion which he couldn’t define at the moment.
“Thanks,” she said shyly. The opening and closing of a door alerted them to Willow’s arrival and Buffy pulled out of his arms and away from him, wiping hands over her face to clear the last remnants of her breakdown. She looked over her shoulder at him briefly before meeting her friend in the front hallway.
Yeah, he was definitely fucked, Spike realized. The Slayer had wormed herself under his skin and into his heart. And she was there to stay.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know it's been ages since I updated, but RL has really thrown me for a loop recently and drained both my time and energy. Hope you enjoy the next chapter, let me know what you think and thank you as always to the bestest beta ever, Mari!