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*1630 Rovelo Drive, Sunnydale, first week of January*
Spike jumped out of the rent-a-van carrying the last of the Summers clan’s belongings. He waited for Clem to close and lock the doors. “You know where the van needs to get to, right?”
“Sure, man. I’ll get it there and my cousin will drive me back, no worries.” Clem looked once from Spike to the house and leaned in a bit, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The Slayer’s just like you said she’d be.” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “Now I feel sort of silly ‘cause I believed all those boogey-man stories about her.”
Spike smirked. “Buffy’s special, mate. Don’t knock a good gore story featuring some avenging Slayer easily. Right bloodthirsty chits, the lot of them.” He motioned with his head to the house. “That one in there, with the boy-band T-shirt and the pigtails? I’ve seen her go at it with a whole nest of vamps after she’d just offed a rampaging Fyarl.” His smirk turned into a warm smile. “She’s gonna be the best ever.” With a frown he noticed Clem’s frightened eyes. “She’s not gonna rip your head off as soon as she see you just ‘cause you’re a demon. And she sure won’t slay you if you don’t eat your vegetables, or stay up too late, like mums tell their pups.” He winked at his friend. He’d come clean about his history and the fact that Clem was such a TV fanatic meant once Spike started explaining about what had happened to him the other demon immediately drew parallels to Sci-Fi stories, taking it all in stride.
“You know better.” He started saying something, shook his head, and then tried again. “I still think her skin’s too tight, but I guess that’s your problem, not mine.”
“I told you, it’s not like that with her. Not now.”
“Yeah, I know.” Clem shrugged. “Just thinking out loud.” With that the subject was dropped. “I’ll let you know when I get back.” A last wave of the hand and Clem hopped in the van’s cab and drove off.
Spike shifted the weight he was carrying in his arms just as the door of the house opened.
“Is Clem gone?” Joyce was dressed in faded jeans and a checkered shirt, with a scarf keeping her hair in place. As she stood there, bathed in light from behind, on the porch of her house in Sunnydale, Spike felt a pang in his chest.
The way she looked at him now wasn’t very different than his last memory of her from before. He’d recently been un-invited from the Slayer’s house after the whole Dru debacle, but Joyce and Dawn had stowed away in his crypt to hide from Glory. After Buffy had taken them back home, he’d shown up just to check on them and Joyce had opened the door to thank him for his hospitality. She’d even apologized for not inviting him in. Oh, how he’d missed her after.
He could only hope his deal with the monks worked and she didn’t have to pay the price for Dawn’s life. He’d still be watching her like a hawk, though. He’d get her to have regular check-ups. “Yeah, he went to return the truck.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping I could thank him again for all his help.”
Spike shrugged and made his way to the door. “He’ll be back. Promised he’d help with the gallery, too, so you’ll get your chance.”
Joyce pinned him with one of those stares mothers were so good at. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
“You’d’ve been okay, trust me. You got by well enough the last time?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Still, thank you, Spike.”
He mumbled “you’re welcome” and hurried past her inside the house. Damn Summers women and making him a nervous git.
He deposited the box next to the rest near the middle of the living room. Dawn and Buffy were busy unpacking, sorting things, and laughing at some knickknack or other. Joyce went and joined them, picking up some old photos and setting them on a nearby table.
Spike took a deep breath. The house still smelled faintly of the previous owners and of dust, but the newer smells were starting to spread out. His girls’ perfumes and unique smells were slowly making this place their own. Making it smell like home.
Spike was sure the smile on his face was as stupid as could be, but he found he really couldn’t be bothered to care.
“You gonna help, or just stay there looking like the cat that ate the canary.” Dawn frowned. “You didn’t actually eat a canary, right? I mean, drinking pig, or cow, or whatever it is you drink is bad enough. Don’t kill the pretty animals too, okay?”
“Dunno, love. If I find that bloody Tweety bird, I’ll ring its neck and drink it dry, but other than that I think I’ll keep to mammals.”
Buffy wiped at her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. “Hey! Why would you kill Tweety?”
“’Cause she’s a bloody meddling know-it-all and a cat-tease. Poor Sylvester didn’t deserve half the shit that scheming yellow menace put him through.”
Buffy looked as if she was about to say something, but got cut off by Dawn. “He swore.”
Joyce didn’t even look up from the box she was going through. “He did and I’m sure he’s so sorry he won’t do it again. As for you, young lady, nobody likes a tattle-tale.”
Dawn huffed and poked her tongue at Spike. He smirked and poked his own tongue right back.
“Could you two stop with the being stupid and help out?” Buffy was trying and failing to look stern, and Spike felt warmth fill up his soul. His unlife was good.
He slapped and rubbed his hands together. “So what can the Big Bad do for his favorite pulsers?”
He was hit in the face with a dirty rag. “Dust and vacuum.” Buffy raised an eyebrow and fake-pouted. “Or is that disrespectful for your species?”
“Ha ha. Yes, vampires turn to dust, I know. You are so witty that I was wounded to the depths of my sensibilities.” He still went to follow her instructions. It was good to be home.
Which was exactly what this was for him now, since Joyce had offered the basement for him to use until he found a permanent residence. Certainly a big step up from Rupert’s couch.
~~~***~~~
*later that day, early evening*
There was a knock at the door and Dawn went to answer it. Spike stopped hammering in nails for the family photos to try and figure out who it was.
“Good evening. Ah. Ms. Summers, my name is—”
“Stop being a blundering git and get in here, watcher. You’re letting the sun in.”
Joyce came in from the kitchen just as Giles was making his way in the living room.
“Joyce, may I present Rupert Giles, watcher extraordinaire and librarian at your daughter’s school. Giles, this is Joyce Summers, the mother of Dawn whom you’ve already met.” At his words Dawn gave a small curtsy. Spike didn’t have time to say anything about it as he spied Buffy making her way downstairs. “And coming now is Buffy Summers, the elder daughter, and Slayer.”
Giles’s cheeks were flushed, but he took Joyce’s hand and inclined, before he did the same with Buffy. “I’m honored to meet all of you. I wanted to introduce myself and offer my services.” He looked over at Spike. “I also have your duffel in my car, since I understand you will be moving in here.” The raised eyebrow was a challenge, although bringing Spike’s belongings was a nice touch.
“Yes, I managed to convince William to stay with us until he finds a place of his own. Thank you for putting him up for as long as you did.” The same challenging tone Giles had used was present in Joyce’s voice. She was making sure he knew Spike was not an unwelcome guest, and in fact it was Rupert who would have to beg for favor.
“Of course.” Giles shuffled a bit in place, the stares of all of the Summers women a daunting thing to resist as Spike could well attest.
“Please, take a seat and tell us more about your duty and intentions. I’m looking forward to hearing how you’ll help my daughter survive her calling.”
Giles drew himself up straighter. “By doing everything I can.” He kept replying to Joyce while looking at Buffy. “I am fluent in several languages, including some dead ones, I have extensive combat knowledge, am familiar with various types of demons, their habits, and their weaknesses, and I will make it my mission to have you become the longest lived Slayer in history.”
Buffy swallowed hard, then spoke for the first time. “Did you know him? Merrick?”
Giles was visibly flustered by the question. “We met several times, but I wouldn’t call him more than a casual acquaintance. We were never what you might call friends.”
She nodded once, while her lower lip trembled slightly a couple of times. “So you’ll have my back, no matter what?”
Giles stole a glance at Spike, drew himself up as straight as he could once more, and answered in a tone filled with confidence. “It is my honor and privilege to pledge myself to you. Whatever you need, I’ll try to help to the best of my abilities.”
Buffy drew a deep, shuddering breath, then let it go with a sigh. She then smiled and hugged Giles. “Welcome to the family.”
Joyce and Dawn joined in, making a very embarrassed Brit the center of a Summers group hug. Spike couldn’t help smiling.
~~~***~~~
*A few days later*
Buffy and Spike were walking side by side from her house to the Bronze. It was a trip Spike could have done blindfolded, but for her it was the first time experiencing the be-all, end-all of teenage entertainment in the city on the Hellmouth.
“Willow is going to be there with Xander and Jesse.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Were they there last time, too?”
Spike shrugged. “I’m not clear on the details, but you and them hit it right off in my time. Don’t see why that would be any different.”
She made a face. “And what about Cordelia? She reminds me of the girls I used to know in Hemery.”
“She’s not the nicest of people, no, but don’t write her off just yet. She’s got depths to her. And spunk.” He grumbled under his breath. “Unlike Harmony.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Just remembering something unimportant.”
She gave him that look of hers that showed she wasn’t really buying it, but she’d let it slide. She tended to be generous like that about once a day. “So you’re moving out soon, huh?”
The apparent non-sequitur threw Spike for a second. Of course she couldn’t let many things slide at once. She was Buffy, after all. “Yeah. Found me a nice apartment with Clem’s help. Just need to add extra thick curtains, sign a couple of papers, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
She wasn’t looking at him at all, instead keeping her eyes trained on the road straight ahead. “You didn’t have to leave on my account.”
His heart warmed, but he knew he shouldn’t look too much into it. “I know, and thank you for that. It’s just like I told you, though. Gotta figure out how to be my own man for a bit. Staying in a house with three women doesn’t really help with that.” He paused before he couldn’t help adding. “I’ll always be available, just from a few blocks further. You and your sister don’t need an old vamp cramping your style anyway.”
She gave him a smile. “Dawn was really pissed Mom didn’t let her go out tonight.”
“Yeah, well, there’s gonna be other nights for her to ‘Get her Bronze on’—your words, not mine—but if I remember correctly there’s gonna be too much action for her tonight.”
Her face was set in stone. “Darla, right?”
“Yeah, the diseased old whore herself. Luke and the rest of the Aurelians too, though, so no heroics, understood?”
She gave him a look of fake innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Right.”
They walked in companionable silence for a couple of blocks, until Spike put a hand out to stop her. “We’ve got company.”
She got in a fighting stance in an instant, a stake materializing in her hand seemingly out of thin air. “Vamp?”
He all but growled when he recognized the signature of the vibes he was getting. “Yeah. Angel.”
Buffy relaxed slightly, but the stake didn’t leave her hand.
Angel seemed surprised when he saw them. He took a couple of seconds to draw himself up to his full height and take a determined step towards Buffy. “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. I don’t bite.”
Spike snickered and Buffy shrugged. “You couldn’t even if you tried.”
Angel was going for casual. “Truth is, I thought you’d be taller. Or bigger, muscles and all that. You’re pretty spry, though.”
Spike was clenching his jaws together. Was the guy serious? He was trying to confuse her, then came the insult to make her doubt herself. Then he would find a common interest, say something cryptic to get her thinking about him, and the game would be afoot. After he’d told the fucker not to try and seduce her.
Buffy raised an eyebrow and cocked a hip. “I bet you’re a real hit at speed dating. Who are you and what do you want?”
“Same thing you do”
“Okay, and what do I want?”
Spike could almost see Angel cover himself up in his imaginary hero mantle. “To kill them, to kill them all.”
“So let me get this straight. You—who I’ve never seen before in my life—come to me, the Slayer, trigger my vamp warning, and tell me you want to kill ‘them’ all. Could you give me any reason you shouldn’t be blowing in the wind around, oh, say, now?”
Spike snorted and Angel threw him a dark look. “What have you been telling her, Willie?”
“Hey there, tall, dark, and foreboding. You still didn’t answer me and look!” She tapped the back of the hand holding the stake. “The train to Dustville is almost here.”
Angel gave her one of his patented ‘poor child, you are so lost without me’ looks. ”You don’t need to worry about me. You should worry about the Harvest.”
“Okay, whatever.” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips slightly. “We’re on our way to the Bronze to have some fun and keep an eye out for vamps. Wanna join?”
Angel looked first at Buffy, then at Spike. “There is great evil in this town.”
Spike would have laughed out loud at the truism, but the look on Buffy’s face kept him back. She was taking the big lug seriously.
Was this it? Was this the start of the great Buffy and Angel love story? Would he be able to sit back and watch it unfold?
“Spike can’t help you like I can. I can show you how to defeat them.” Angel had taken another step, bringing him even closer to Buffy. He then threw a small black jewelry box at her. “This will help you, it will keep you safe.”
She opened it to reveal a necklace with a cross. One Spike had seen around her neck much too many times in his past. His heart was breaking again.
“More than, for example, this?” She said it while holding up the cross pendant her mother had given her for Christmas. “Or maybe more than this?” She wiggled the stake she’d been holding. It was the stake Spike had given her, which had been imbued with silver inserts, and be-spelled for extra resistance. It was, at least in Spike’s opinion, the ultimate stake. “Who did you say we were taking down, again?”
Angel was frowning. “I told you, there’s a great evil—”
“Yeah, great evil, got it. A name, place, and how to kill it?”
“You’re not ready for that. You need to train.”
“Okay, you can help me with whatever Giles and Spike can’t. In the meantime, though, we have a sitch at the Bronze. A vamp named Darla. Thoughts?”
“You should stay away from her.”
“Nope, not on the menu. So unless you have anything else to waste my time with, I’ll be on my way to, you know, do my job.”
“Buffy, trust me, I’m a friend—” Angel made to grab her shoulder, but she shrugged him off and brought up her stake.
She also pinned him with her best stare. “Are you gonna help me take down Darla?”
Angel flinched. “You aren’t ready, listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me. I’m the Slayer. My job is to protect the innocents. Right now there are some kids, some people from my own school, that are gonna be vamp treats if I don’t do something about it. Your solution of running, hiding, and preparing for who knows what isn’t much with the helping. So unless you come with me to stake them, as you said you wanted to, you are useless to me. And just so you know, I really don’t need more friends like you.”
“You can’t take on Darla.”
“Says who?”
“I do. Look, I am the Power’s Champion. I—”
“A-huh. ‘I am the Champion.’ ‘I know better.’ ‘I’ll teach you, but until then go home and sleep,’ Not being really with the helpful there, stranger. You couldn’t even tell me your name, although you obviously know mine.”
“It’s not important now.”
“Yeah, okay, bye.” She stomped away without a backward glance. “You coming Spike?”
“Right behind you, Buffy.” Spike’s heart was soaring. She hadn’t bought in to the git’s song and dance. Maybe there was a chance things could turn out different. In the meantime, though. “Oi, Peaches. Seen any gypsies or warlocks while I was gone?”
Angel stopped from his attempt at melting into the shadows. “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, but it very much is my business, mate. I thought I was pretty clear last time, but okay, don’t let anyone say I’m not a magnanimous bloke. One last chance. If I see you around and you still haven’t even started getting that curse of yours under control, you and me? We’re gonna have words. Got that?” He didn’t wait for a response and hurried after the slayer.
Once Spike caught up to Buffy she put away the stake she was still holding. “So, that was Angel?” At Spike’s answering nod she frowned. “I thought he was going to be… different. Not so tall, not so overbearing, just not so. What exactly is his damage?”
“He just thinks he’s the dog’s bollocks and everything he says is gospel.”
Buffy looked at Spike out of the corner of her eye. “You know how this all turns out, but you don’t sound like him.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been wrong enough times to know I’m full of crap. Just doing my best here, yeah?”
“I know. Thank you, Spike.”
His heart filled with warmth again.





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