TO CATCH A FOX

PROLOGUE

Moonlight filtered through the trees, its silvery glow casting dappled shadows on the ground as a young woman sauntered through the darkened cemetery at a leisurely pace. With each step, her dark green sundress swirled around her ankles and her curly, burnt orange coloured hair bounced slightly.

Moving with an easy grace, she paused every now and then to bend over and read a headstone before carrying on her unhurried way.

Nearing the middle of the graveyard, she came to a church and stopped. The state of ruin told her that it had not been used for many years. Windows were broken, probably by vandals, and the glass was still lying shattered on the ground. The wooden door looked rotten, it's brown paint weathered and peeling, a green mould clinging to the edges.

Walking up to the door, the woman pushed against it and stepped inside. The musty smell of damp and dirt assailed her nose but she ignored both to look eagerly around. The pews were intact as was the altar but everything else had been stripped from the place leaving a feeling of desertion…not only by the people, but also by God himself.

"Perfect," she commented with a grin.

Heading up the aisle, she glanced upwards and saw a couple of large holes in the ceiling that hadn't withstood the test of time or weather. Not at all bothered by that fact, she reached the altar then turned to the left and entered the small antechamber that all churches of any age seemed to have.

The room was of a reasonable size and dry, its only furniture an extremely dusty table and chair. Checking the ceiling, she saw there were no holes and her smile widened in satisfaction.

"This will do nicely," she said to herself. With a last look around, she gave a nod then left.

Back outside in the warm night, she walked through the gravestones with new purpose. As she neared the exit, she heard a twig snap behind her and turned around to see a man standing a short distance away, his dishevelled clothes covered in clumps of dirt and grass.

"What do you want?" she asked, fearfully taking a step back.

Her answer was a feral growl as the man suddenly ran towards her and lunged. In anticipation of food, he allowed his demon to emerge, his face rippling and fangs elongating as he prepared to strike. Only, when it reached to spot where the woman had been standing he stopped in surprise. She wasn't there anymore. Instead, in her place, stood a larger than normal sized fox, eyeing him curiously.

Gold eyes met amber as they stared at each other until the vampire gave a roar and attempted to grab the creature in front of him. Blood was blood and he was hungry.

He'd barely taken a step when the fox quickly turned and brought its long tail around to whack it against the vampires' leg. With a howl of pain, the demon looked down and saw that his legs were on fire. As he ineffectually tried to pat them out, he let out another shriek of agony as his hands caught alight.

In front of him, the fox sat down and rapidly transformed back into the woman. Standing up, she watched the flames entirely engulf the vampire, his cries of pain abruptly ceasing when he suddenly crumbled to dust.

Sighing, the woman gave the pile of ash a pitying shake of the head then turned away. "Fledglings are such a waste of time," she muttered to herself as she exited the cemetery. Coming to a stop, she tilted her head to the side and listened intently for a moment. Hearing the distant sounds of music, a smile spread across her face and she turned towards it.

Time to see what entertainment there was to be had on the Hellmouth.

CHAPTER 1 - Married Life, Trouble and Strife

Spike sat in the back of Willy’s bar and refilled his shot glass from a newly opened bottle of whisky. Bringing the glass to his lips he swallowed the contents in one go, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid smoothly down his throat before putting the glass back on the table with a firm thud. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair and casually looked around the bar.

Demons of all shapes and sizes were dotted about the place chatting and drinking, all blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that gripped the bleached blond vampire in the corner.

"Tosser's," he muttered bitterly as he poured and downed another drink. Picking up the bottle to immediately refill the glass, he looked at it and paused then replaced the top and stowed it in his coat pocket. He had a feeling he was going to need the dulling effects of the liquor much more later that night.

Right after Buffy dumped him to be exact.

Desolation at that thought had him almost reach into his pocket again but he resisted the urge and tried to force himself to stand up and go to her house where they'd arranged to meet the previous night.

It was Halloween and he couldn't help but smile at the memory of the year before when he and Buffy had made love for the first time. Ironic then, that they should part on the same day…or maybe just really bad timing. Either way, from now on, this day would always be bittersweet…having the very best and very worst of meanings. Unlife was such a bitch.

He sighed and moved around the table, heading for the exit. If he were honest, he'd been dreading this would happen ever since they'd become a couple. Even after a year together there were still times that he couldn't quite believe that he was with the woman he loved. And that she loved him back…at least she did…until a couple of weeks ago.

That's when he'd first noticed that something was wrong. Little things, like avoiding his gaze and blushing or abruptly putting the phone down to some mysterious caller whenever he entered the room. Whispered conversations with the two witches and covert glances over at him when they thought he wasn't paying attention.

But he was, and each time it happened, it cracked his aching heart open a little more.

It seemed as if every night he was waiting for the axe to fall and each night it didn't, he took her in his arms and loved her as if it was the last time. The previous evening, however, he'd sensed a change. There was an edge about her, a barely suppressed urgency that screamed of something big…and he'd known. This was it. She'd finally found the courage.

He was within a few feet of the exit when it suddenly burst open and Willow and Tara hurried in, each one a study in worried concern as their eyes sought out and locked with his.

"What’s wrong?" he demanded, his stomach clenching in sudden fear. "Is it Dawn? Has something happened to her?"

"No, Dawnie’s fine," Willow assured him hastily. "It’s Buffy. She’s gone after a vamp nest in Rosewood ceme…" A blur of black and blond rushed past her and was out the door before she’d even finished her sentence. "…tery." She turned to her girlfriend in wide-eyed amusement. "Wow, he reacted a darn sight quicker than last time."

Tara giggled and nodded in agreement. "Amazing how total adoration shaves a couple of seconds off reaction times."

"Yeah, I just hope Buffy's already got everything prepared," Willow commented as she grabbed Tara's hand and led her out of the bar.

"I think where Spike's concerned, Buffy's always prepared," Tara responded wryly. The witches shared another laugh then headed home to have a cosy night in themselves.

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"I'll be right back, honey," Anya informed her husband as she gave him a quick kiss and disappeared into the crowd on her way to the powder room.

With a smile, Xander Harris watched his wife negotiate her way through the throng of people on The Bronze's dance floor and leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. Life was good.

Their wedding had gone, surprisingly, without a hitch. Even his dysfunctional family hadn’t caused any problems…although he had his suspicions that Buffy and Spike had had something to do with that.

They hadn’t ever admitted to it, but the vampire had definitely run interference between his father and the bar while the slayer had kept the peace within Anya’s more demon type guests. He smiled. There had been a lot of ‘skin problem’ and ’rare disease’ excuses flying about that day. It always amazed him how people readily believed an outlandish story rather than just accepting what their eyes were telling them.

Denial…a land he'd been very, very familiar with himself over the years.

Reaching for his beer, took a sip and thought back over the last seven months of his married life. The honeymoon had been fantastic, the small detail that they'd come back paler than when they'd left was testament to the fact.

A grin appeared on his face as he remembered what they'd got up to…his wife was nothing, if not adventurous when came to the bedroom. He'd never been so satisfied and the rest of their life together was just as gratifying. True, they had the odd argument and she could still manage to embarrass the hell out of him when it came to her forthrightness but, that was just all part and parcel of why he loved her so much.

For, perhaps, the thousandth time that day, he gave thanks for whatever force saw fit to give him Anya. She really was one in a million and now they were happily settled, he knew he'd never look at anyone else.

"Hot damn!" he suddenly exclaimed, sitting up straighter as the crowd in front of him parted to reveal a vision of loveliness dancing alone.

Arms above her head, the young woman gyrated her slim hips slowly to the throbbing beat of the music, her olive green mini dress hugging her body like a second skin. Head thrown back, her vibrant auburn hair cascaded down her back in a riot of curls. Eyes closed, she seemed oblivious to anything but the pounding rhythm as she ran her tongue along her slightly parted, coral painted lips.

Xander swallowed hard and set his beer back on the table with a heavy thump. "I'm a married man, I'm a married man," he reminded himself over and over as his gaze roamed over every inch of the woman's delectable skin that was on show.

Dragging his eyes back to her face, he saw that she was now staring back at him with an appreciative smile and knowing look. "Hi," she mouthed, her movements becoming even more seductive as she brought her arms down and ran her hands along the length of her body.

Xander gulped and smiled back nervously, his eyes widening slightly as the woman then began to walk towards him. A movement to his left had him glance around to see Anya heading back to the table and his eyes widened even further.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

Panic began to rise as he realised he'd been flirting and Anya was going to catch him. Having over a thousand years worth of revenge, 'woman scorned' style to her name, she never missed anything remotely sexual between people and she would so roast his balls over a naked flame when they got home.

Standing up, he determinedly kept his focus on his wife and walked over to her, pulling her into a fierce kiss.

"What was that for?" she asked, a little breathlessly when he relinquished her mouth.

"Do I need a reason to kiss my beautiful wife?" Xander countered charmingly.

"Well…no," Anya concurred with a smile.

"Good, then let's go home. Halloween…night off, remember? Why waste it by being here when we could be doing better things?"

"But you’re the one that wanted to come," she pointed out reasonably.

"And now I'm the one who wants you all to myself tonight," he coaxed, turning her around so that they could head for the exit.

"Okay." She grinned up at him happily and he pushed down the feelings of guilt enough to return a passably happy smile of his own. As she looked away, Xander threw a quick peek over his shoulder and saw that the woman was staring after him. Seeing his glance, the woman blew him a kiss then smiled provocatively as she raised her hand and gave him a brief wave. The carpenter immediately looked away then, ignoring the urge cast one last glance back, guided Anya out of the club and into the night.

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Spike entered the cemetery at a sprint, his game face out in full force. Without stopping, he drew in the air around him, almost immediately catching wind of Buffy’s scent. Heading in the direction it came from, he reached a crypt and burst through the door, calling her name.

"I’m right here, Spike," she said quietly. "Happy Anniversary."

The vampire turned his head to see her standing in the middle of the crypt, her smiling features softly lit up by the glow of the many candles that were dotted around.

As his golden eyes swept over the rest of the room, he noticed a blanket on the floor behind her with a wicker basket and cooler off to the side. Memories of the last time they'd been in the crypt suddenly resurfaced and he visibly relaxed, allowing his demon to recede.

"Happy Anniversary, luv," he finally replied, his blue eyes drinking in her black clad form as he slowly walked towards her. "Seems like we've been here before."

"We have. Just over a year ago, but last time you were being too cranky to enjoy it properly," his girlfriend replied as he came to a halt a couple of steps away.

An eyebrow quirked. "Oh, I think I enjoyed it well enough, luv," he disagreed mildly as his gaze flicked down her body then back up again. "And I wasn't cranky, I was being…"

"Broody?" she supplied helpfully.

"No!" he automatically replied in obvious affront.

"A poophead?"

Despite himself, Spike felt a smile tug at his lips. "Well…"

Buffy moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself flush against him. "How about, you were just being a little frustrating but at the same time incredibly sensitive?"

His arms found their way around her waist and held her tightly to him as he gently brushed his lips against hers. "Actually, I think poophead’s a better description," he mumbled before leaning in and kissing her harder.

She returned the kiss enthusiastically then abruptly pulled back and, before the unsuspecting vampire could react, she flipped him neatly over her shoulder and onto the blanket. Letting out an ‘oof’ as he landed on his back, he attempted to sit up but found himself pinned by the slight weight of the Slayer as she dropped onto his middle, straddling him.

"Little minx," he muttered, enjoying the feel of her grinding down against him.

"You love it," she retorted with a shameless grin.

"Love you," he countered, unexpectedly grabbing her waist and rolling her until he was on top. "So much."

"Love you too," she gasped, tugging at his duster in order to get it off.

Rearing back onto his knees, he shrugged his coat off and whipped his T-shirt over his head before throwing it carelessly to the side. Looking down at her flushed face, he slowly bent forward until his weight was resting on his hands, either side of her head and then stilled. Despite what she'd done this evening, he still needed the reassurance that everything was okay between them. Two weeks spent convincing yourself that the love of your life was leaving you could do that to a vamp.

"So, was this what all those hush-hush chitchats with the Witches and cut off phone calls have been about then?" he asked quietly, resisting her rather forceful attempt at pulling him back down.

"You knew about that?" she queried in dismay. "Damn! And I thought I’d been so good at covering up as well. I bet you guessed something was going to happen tonight, didn’t you?"

"Something," he agreed, almost sagging from the relief that flooded his body as she unwittingly confirmed that she hadn't been going to dump him. "Not this though," he added as his gaze dropped to her slightly pouting mouth. "Don't be disappointed, love." His voice dropped an octave lower as he leaned nearer. "You got me gooooood."

Buffy felt his voice vibrate through her and let out a little groan before abruptly twisting and rolling them over until she was, once more, sitting astride his waist. "Now I do," she teased, running her hands down his chest to his jeans and deftly unbuttoning them. "And I'm not gonna let you go. Ever."

"That's fine by me, pet," the vampire replied contentedly as he lifted his hips so that she could pull his pants down easier. "Fine by me."

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Taking in a deep breath and expelling it slowly, Xander walked beside his wife only half listening to her talk about the store takings for the week. Making the appropriate noises whenever she paused, he spent the rest of the time trying to dispel the feeling that he'd somehow been unfaithful.

The woman had captivated him in a way he hadn't thought possible. Ever since he'd committed himself Anya, he'd never even looked at anyone else. There was no need…the ex-demon was everything to him.

Until tonight.

Harmless flirting was one thing, but what disturbed him most was the fact that for one, tiny, fleeting moment back there…he'd actually forgotten all about Anya.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Watching his wife open the door to their apartment, he felt the sudden compulsion to reaffirm his love and grabbed her before she could even turn the light on. Smashing his lips to hers, he all but dragged her into the bedroom and fell with her onto the bed.

This was good. This was right. The woman earlier was nothing but a blip on the landscape and she was the one that was forgotten as he lost himself in the welcoming arms of his wife.

TBC IN CHAPTER TWO…

CHAPTER 2 – New Friends

Anya strolled around the clothes store looking at the various colourful tops and pants trying to decide which ones she wanted to buy. Since Halloween a couple of weeks before, Xander had been particularly attentive and she wanted to do something special for him. So, she’d decided to buy a nice new outfit and prepare a fantastic dinner just for the two of them.

She’d been so determined to make it happen that she’d even taken the day off work! Something she only ever did if there was an apocalypse looming, that’s how important it was to her.

That morning, she’d bought all the ingredients she needed for the dinner. Oysters to start…for their supposed aphrodisiac properties. Then, a light meal of asparagus, rice and fish…again, for their supposed aphrodisiac properties. For dessert, she’d decided on strawberries and ice cream…naturally, she’d researched and these too were supposed to have certain ‘arousing’ qualities. By the time the meal was over, she figured Xander would be pleasantly full and raring to go. Exactly how she liked him.

Tutting, she flicked through row of modest looking tops and shook her head. These would never do and she was getting pressed for time. Why could you never find the right clothes when you needed them?

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" a saleslady asked, walking over to the blonde.

"Yes, I'm looking for clothing that doesn't cost too much and yet looks appealing," Anya replied, picking a bright pink blouse off the rail and holding it up consideringly. Checking the price tag, she scowled and replaced it haphazardly back.

"Oh, well, maybe the sales rack would be more to your liking," the woman suggested, immediately righting the garments' place on the rack and smoothing the fabric down. "It's over at the back."

"Thank you," said Anya before turning away and heading over to the sale rail.

The saleswoman stared after her in mild disgust then walked over to another customer who she hoped would be in a better financial position to buy a few things and bump up her bonus.

Anya noticed a young woman already at one end of the rail and automatically went to the other to start looking through the clothes hanging there. As she sorted her way through garments that she wouldn't even wipe the floor with, let alone wear, she moved further along the rack until she reached the middle where she accidentally bumped into the other female.

"Oops, sorry," the young woman apologised with a friendly smile.

"No problem," Anya replied easily and moved around her to continue her search. A couple of seconds later, she gave a small triumphant cry and held up an orangey red, shimmering top that she was certain would look fantastic on.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" said the other woman at the rail.

Anya glanced over at her and nodded. "Very sparkly and soft, just what I wanted."

The woman moved closer. "I looked at it myself but with my colouring…" She shrugged and smiled ruefully as she pointed at her dark orange hair before adding, "It'd look great on you though."

"I think so too," Anya agreed, amiably. "And it would most definitely get my husband extremely turned on which would lead to numerous orgasms, so at this reduced price, it would be a very prudent purchase."

If the other woman was shocked by Anya’s blunt speech, she didn’t show it with so much as a blink. Instead, she chuckled lightly then leaned forward to tell her conspiratorially, "Actually, you can get that top at the store two blocks down and it’s a whole five dollars cheaper."

"Really?" the blonde asked, the thought of saving even more of her money making her eyes glow excitedly. "Which store?"

The redhead took the top from her and placed it back on the rail before linking her arm through Anya’s companiably and leading her over to the store’s exit. "I’ll show you," she offered sweetly. "There’s a pair of pants to die for in there that I was going back for anyway."

Before they went through the door, Anya stopped and looked down pointedly at their linked arms. "I’m willing to go to the other store with you but I just want to make clear that I’m not a lesbian and have a husband who makes me extremely happy."

The woman smiled back at her wryly. "I’m not either and I’m glad you’re happy," she replied before removing her arm from Anya’s and holding out her hand. "My name’s Rowan by the way."

The ex-demon took Rowan’s hand and shook it vigorously. "Anya."

"Nice to meet you, Anya," said Rowan as she turned to the door and gestured for the blonde to go through. "Now, let’s go get that top so you can knock the socks off your husband."

"Oh, I want to knock off more than just his socks," Anya replied seriously as exited the store.

Rowan’s reply was another chuckle and shake of her head as she followed the blonde out of the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Giles looked up in anticipation as the bell sounded above the Magic Shop door, a ready smile on his face. "Ah, Buffy, it’s you," he commented in obvious disappointment as his face fell a little and he looked over her shoulder just in case anyone else followed in.

"Hi Giles, it’s good to see you too," Buffy replied dryly.

"Oh…oh yes…hello, Buffy," her Watcher replied absently as his eyes drifted to the door once more.

The Slayer held back her smile and walked over to the research table where Willow and Tara were already sat. "Hi Guys," she greeted with a grin before casting a knowing glance over at the man behind the counter and adding in a low voice, "I’m guessing Emily hasn’t been by today?"

"No, not yet," Tara replied quietly, also looking over at Giles who was busy polishing his spectacles with gusto. "She’s a little later than usual."

"Yeah, and if she doesn’t come soon, I think he’s gonna rub those lenses clean away," added Willow in a hushed voice.

The girls laughed then Buffy shook her head and sighed. "I can’t understand why he doesn’t just ask her out on a date. I mean, she's been coming here for four months now and they have a lot in common, you know, being British and all stiff upper lippy and everything."

"Are you aware that I can hear every word?" Giles suddenly said as he put his glasses back on and looked over at the girls.

The young women glanced at each other wide eyed and then smiled over at him sheepishly. "Sorry, Giles, but…" Buffy began, only to be cut off when the bell above the door tinkled again.

Giles’ gaze immediately went to the door, his pleasant smile soon fading when a smoking blanket covered vampire raced in, slamming the door behind him causing the bell to jangle loudly again. With a wild flourish, the blanket was off his head and on the floor being unceremoniously stamped on to put out the odd flickers of flame. "Go out, you bugger," he growled at one persistent tiny inferno and then gave a small grunt of triumph when it finally stayed out. Finished, he picked it up and straightened to find four pairs of eyes on him.

"What?"

"Subtle entrance as always, Spike," Giles commented dryly. "What if a customer were here to witness your little dance and rather colourful language?"

"Customer?" the vampire queried with a raised eyebrow and knowing smirk. "Or Emily?"

"Well, really! I…I…don’t know what you’re…"

The bell tinkled and the door opened once more, this time revealing Xander, who loped in with a cheery grin. "Afternoon, people," he greeted jovially before turning to the vampire and adding, "And Spike."

The vampire rolled his eyes and walked over to the research table, bending to give Buffy a kiss before sitting in the vacant chair next to her.

"So, how’s it been without my darling wife around?" the carpenter asked, turning to the Watcher. "Have you sold much?"

Giles looked back at him blankly for the moment. "Er…yes…today has been rather fruitful as a matter of fact. Anya should be quite pleased."

"Good, cos…" he broke off as the irritating bell jangled away announcing the entrance of a newcomer.

Six pairs of expectant eyes swivelled to the door as it opened to reveal a woman of around thirty-three dressed in a sombre dark blue skirt and matching jacket. Taking a step over the threshold, she looked up then halted as she saw everyone staring at her. "Oh…uh…h-hello," she greeted nervously.

Everyone returned her greeting pleasantly and Xander gave her a wide grin before heading over to the join the others at the table and flopped down into the chair next to Tara.

"And here I thought I’d missed the Giles and Emily show for this week," he muttered loud enough for the rest of the gang to hear.

Emily Fotheringham heard a couple of titters from the direction of the table and blushed delicately, assuming they were about her. Ducking her dark-haired head shyly before closing the door behind her, she determinedly ignored them and walked over to the counter, focussing solely on Giles.

"Good afternoon, Emily," the Watcher greeted with a self-conscious smile, trying to ignore the fact that they were the centre of attention.

"Hello, Rupert," she replied with a coy smile of her own.

"What can I get for you today?" he asked, his gaze locking with the warm brown eyes of the Englishwoman in front of him.

"I just wanted some more of that sleeping draft you recommended last week, please," she replied, returning his look.

Giles’ expression grew concerned. "Really? You’re still having the nightmares then?"

Emily sighed then ran a tired hand over her face and nodded. "Yes. Every night." She looked up at him again and smiled. "Apart from the evenings I took your wonderful potion, that is. Thank you for making it up for me, Rupert, you’re really very sweet."

Giles reddened and took his glasses off to give them a vigorous clean. "Oh, well, it’s nothing, Emily. You know I’m happy to help if I can."

At the research table, the gang gave each other ‘puh-leese’ looks then turned their attention back to the Watcher and the unknowing object of his affections.

Emily watched Giles’ nervous display of cleaning and replacing his spectacles then nodded. "I know and your concern means a lot to me," she answered quietly, reaching out to lightly touch her hand to his as it rested on the counter top.

Giles looked down at her hand in faint alarm and hurriedly snatched his own away, stuttering profusely. "I…I…I’ll just get that potion…uh…oh…I…I mean draft…sleeping draft…yes…um…," he paused and swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly at what he’d almost let slip. Opening them up again, he stared at Emily’s bright red and confused face and took a deep steadying breath, hating that he was the cause of her obvious upset. "Excuse me," he uttered quietly before walking away to prepare her order.

"And the Watcher calls me subtle," Spike murmured sarcastically at the table.

"He’s such an idiot," Buffy agreed with a shake of her head.

At the counter, Emily stared at the Watcher’s retreating back and forced back the feeling of disappointment that threatened to show itself in a tearful display. Glancing over at the table, she received sympathetic smiles from group seated there and looked away. It was embarrassing enough without having an audience.

A composed Giles returned moments later and placed a small bottle on the counter. "Now," he began in a businesslike tone. "You need to put three drops…"

"I remember what to do, Mr. Giles," Emily interrupted him abruptly as she pulled out her purse and handed him over a couple of bills in payment. She just wanted to leave the store as soon as she could.

Giles appeared taken aback with her change in attitude and sudden formalness, but remained silent and rang up the sale before handing her back her change.

Unable to meet his gaze, Emily took the money, trying to avoid touching his hand as much as she could then muttered a thank you and turned for the exit as quick as she could.

"Goodbye, Emily," he called out, but the door had already closed behind her. Giles stared at the door for a few seconds then let out a heavy sigh. Looking over at the research table, he was met with a resounding silence and accusing stares which caused him to sigh again. "I’m going down to the basement to perform a small stock check," he said quietly, before looking at the redheaded witch and requesting, "Willow, would you mind keeping an eye on the shop while I’m down there, please?"

"Sure," she accepted as she stood up.

He gave her a small smile then went downstairs and picked up his clipboard in order to begin but couldn’t concentrate. Emily’s embarrassed departure kept replaying through his mind. He felt awful for upsetting her but it was the only way. He couldn’t afford to get too close, it wasn’t safe. For him or for her. Jenny was proof of that and he just wasn’t prepared to take the risk with another woman that he loved.

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Spike sat and listened to the rest of the gang discuss Giles’ attitude towards Emily and sighed inwardly. They were so busy criticising his actions that they hadn’t bothered to look for the reasoning behind them. But Spike had. He hadn’t lived both his life and unlife as love’s bitch not to recognise the signs of fear when he saw them and the man was terrified. Not of Emily herself, but, the vampire suspected, of the feelings she provoked within the normally stoic Watcher.

Feeling sorry for his fellow Englishman, he decided he should at least try and speak up for the absent man…although for the unlife of him he couldn’t think why.

Ignoring the reluctant consideration that it might just be because over the past year Giles and he had become tentative friends, he cleared his throat and sat forward, leaning his arms on the table as he prepared to talk.

Before he could even utter a word however, the door burst open and Anya walked in laughing loudly. All talk ceased as everyone looked over at Xander’s wife and noticed a beautiful young redhead follow her in.

"Hi everyone, this is Rowan," she introduced with a huge grin. "She’s a new friend I made today while out shopping. She helped me save money by making an extremely economical purchase."

From his vantage point opposite Xander at the table, Spike noticed that the carpenter had suddenly tensed up. Frowning slightly, the vampire glanced over at Anya and then back to Xander, wondering what could’ve triggered the young man’s agitation.

It was only when Rowan walked over and took Xander’s hand in greeting that Spike realised it was the newcomer that had sparked the carpenter’s unease. As Anya chattered on in detail to the rest of the gang about how she and Rowan had met, the vampire continued to watch Xander. Eyes narrowed, he noted the man squirm slightly in his seat and pale considerably as his and Rowan’s hands locked together far longer than necessary.

Just when Spike thought Anya might actually notice what was happening, Rowan finally relinquished her hold then stunned the vampire, and, it appeared, Xander, when she cheekily blew him a kiss and winked.

Colour infused the young man’s face and he hurriedly looked away, swallowing hard. After a few seconds, he must have felt someone staring at him and looked up meeting Spike’s impassive gaze full on. Xander’s eyes widened then darted a glance to Rowan and back to Spike, who merely lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips. Realising that his and Rowan’s exchange had been witnessed by the vampire, Xander’s expression became worried but the blond demon simply shook his head slightly in negation that he would say anything and the young man visibly relaxed causing Spike to speculate on what that meant.

It was evident they knew each other even though they pretended they didn’t and the vampire hoped against hope that the carpenter hadn’t done anything so stupid as to play away from home. He liked Anya. She was a blunt, honest, what you see is what you get, kind of girl and he’d hate to see her get hurt because the Whelp didn’t have enough sense to keep ‘Little Whelp’ in his pants.

Oblivious to the exchange between her husband and new best friend, Anya walked over to Xander and gave him a long kiss before announcing that she needed to go home and prepare dinner for that evening.

Rowan also made her excuses and turned to go, but not before she gave Xander another long look then turned her gaze to Spike, lingering appreciatively over the vampire’s features.

The blond felt a flash of masculine pride that a beauty such as she had given him the once over, but it quickly diminished when he felt Buffy’s hand come to rest possessively on his thigh. He had his girl and he was very happy…thing was, he got the feeling that Rowan didn’t really care about that and that made her trouble with a capital T.

TBC IN CHAPTER THREE…

CHAPTER THREE – Teasing and Tantrums

Buffy strolled along the cemetery path alongside Spike as they began their nightly patrol. Absently twirling a stake in her right hand, she glanced over at her blond lover and let out a small sigh.

She'd seen the look Rowan had given Spike before she left and for some reason it had unsettled her. Not that it was unusual for the vampire to have admirer's, because he did. Both female and male alike. It was just that normally, her feelings ranged from extremely proud to more than a little smug, knowing that Spike was hers and they'd never have him. With Rowan however, she'd felt pure, unrestrained, good old fashioned, green-eyed jealousy. And that's what bothered her. She barely knew the woman and yet, if she'd had the chance, she would've cheerfully ripped her eyes out and shoved down her throat.

Laying her hand possessively on Spike's leg had been instinctual and the vampire had responded in kind, even though he'd cast her a slightly puzzled glance at the same time. He too, was apparently surprised at her show of possession but from the smile he gave her, he was more than happy for her to carry on.

With another sigh, she glanced over at her slaying partner again and resolutely pushed thoughts of the other woman to the back of her mind. The chances of them coming into regular contact with Rowan were slim to none really. Anya hadn't ever had a friend before and once they reminded her that she wouldn't be able to tell Rowan about the Scoobies and her being a Slayer, she reckoned the ex-demon would probably just not bother.

"Quiet tonight," Spike suddenly spoke up, breaking into her thoughts. "What say we do one more sweep then go to my crypt and get good and naked?" He paused then and frowned slightly before amending, "Well…naked anyway."

Buffy smiled but before she could respond, there came a loud bellow of rage quickly followed by a terrified scream from the bushes in front of them. "Rain check?" the Slayer asked ruefully.

"Third this week," Spike replied with a nod.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll make it up to you," she promised with a wink then gripped her stake more firmly and set off at a run.

The vampire grinned and muttered a heartfelt, "Can't wait, love," before setting off after her.

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Xander helped Anya carry their plates out to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher before heading back into the lounge. They sat down on the couch and Xander put his arm around Anya's shoulder, smiling as she nestled in closer to him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"That was a fantastic dinner," he told her softly as he slowly ran his free hand up and down her arm. "And this is a fantastic top," he added, enjoying the feel of the silky material under his hand.

"Thanks, sweetie," Anya replied, tilting her head to look at her husband. "I'm glad you like it. Not only is it cheap and sexy but it also helped me make my first friend who, by the way, you haven't said anything about. Didn't you like her?"

Xander's eyes widened at the faint accusing look his wife gave him and felt himself getting flushed. "Uh…yeah…of course I liked her…what's not to like?" he mumbled falteringly as his head filled with images of Rowan gyrating her hips in the middle of the Bronze. Swallowing hard, he shook his head slightly to dispel his traitorous thoughts and then stilled as he realised what else she'd said.

Pushing her away from him gently, he stared into her eyes with a frown. "What do you mean, make your first friend?" he asked in surprise. "What about Buffy and Willow and the rest of the gang? Don't you think they're your friends?"

Anya pouted a little and looked away from his searching gaze. "Of course they're friends, but they're your friends, not mine," she told him with a sigh. "Rowan is the first person I've met that isn’t a part of the gang and who actually likes me for me, not just because I'm your wife."

Xander couldn't have been more shocked if she'd just stood up and said she was leaving him for a Chaos demon. "Come on Ahn, you know that's not true…" he began.

"Yes, it is," she cut in forcefully as she looked back up at him. "They're nice enough to me, but I'm not stupid, nor am I blind…I see the way they look at each other when I say things…well…except for Spike…he just finds it funny." She sighed heavily. "Even you keep telling me to stay quiet. But Rowan…Rowan didn't do that this afternoon." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's…it was nice to be listened to like a normal person for a change and not looked at and treated like an ex-vengeance demon."

"Well, that’s probably because she doesn’t know you are one, Hon," Xander replied without thinking. As soon as the words were out, he wanted nothing more than to take them back…especially when he saw the hurt expression that overcame his wife’s face at his flippant remark. "Ahn, honey…" he began ruefully, but she roughly pushed away from him and stood up.

"Don’t bother, Xander, I understand what you’re saying," she told him unhappily. "Doesn’t matter that I’m human now. Because I wasn’t once, it just means that your friends can continue to treat me like an outsider and it’s okay with you…that you’ll even join in. It also means that no-one could like me for me." She cast him a pained look. "That about cover it?"

Xander stood up and tried to take her in his arms but she quickly stepped away. "No! God, no, Anya, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that…"

"Oh, I think you did, Xander," she cut in quietly. Drawing herself up, she schooled her features into an impassive mask and gestured to the settee. "I hope you’ll be very comfortable out here tonight, sleeping on a lumpy couch and having no orgasms." She turned to go then looked over her shoulder to add, "And you can stick that in your pipe of inappropriate-ness and smoke it!"

Xander watched her walk into the bedroom then flinched as she slammed the door so hard it almost came off its hinges. Looking down at the couch, he sat down with a sigh and set to pondering on just how he was going to find a cure for the ‘foot in mouth’ syndrome into which he kept relapsing on a regular basis.

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"Get the hell out of here," Spike snarled at the young woman who had almost ended up as a tasty snack for the Fyarl demon that Buffy was currently delivering a right upper cut to.

The sobbing girl nodded and ran off as fast as she could, leaving the vampire to wade in and lend a hand to the petite, blonde Slayer. Just as he ran over, the Fyarl smacked Buffy hard across the face, knocking her backwards then raised the axe he was carrying and swung it down in order to deliver the fatal blow.

Spike gave a bellow of rage and took a flying leap at the demon. Catching it around the waist, the vampire's momentum knocked them both to the floor where he grabbed its arm and smashed it hard onto the ground dislodging the axe from its grasp.

Quickly standing, he kicked the weapon out of the way then bent over to haul the hulking demon back up to its feet. Cursing it in Fyarl, Spike punched it soundly in the face then followed up with a roundhouse kick to its gut. The demon grunted as it doubled over in pain but still managed to block the vampire's next kick and struck out with its fist in retaliation, catching Spike hard across his jaw.

His head snapped to the side and he felt the distinctive metallic taste of blood fill his mouth. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that," the vampire growled, letting his true face come forward. With a ferocious growl, he set upon the demon using all his strength and speed.

Buffy sat up with a groan and pushed the hair out of her face as she slowly stood up. Seeing that Spike and the Fyarl were locked in battle, she watched them for a few moments deciding whether to intervene when she noticed the axe lying a couple of feet away. Walking over, she picked it up then turned back to the fighting demons and couldn't help but smile. Damn, Spike looked good. Just watching him made her hot and she squirmed slightly, pressing her thighs together as felt the familiar rush of fluid between her thighs that always accompanied her lust for him.

The sweet scent of her arousal reached out and flooded Spike's senses making him salivate in anticipation. Delivering a punch that stunned the Fyarl momentarily, Spike shook off his game face and took the opportunity to look back over his shoulder at her with a smirk. Tongue rolling up behind his teeth, he gave her a heated look that promised much once the fight was over.

The Slayer's responding coy look lasted but a few seconds as it quickly changed to one of concern. Realising he'd allowed himself to get distracted, Spike turned back to the Fyarl and muttered an expletive. During the scant few moments he'd been leering at Buffy, the large demon had obtained a sturdy stick from the ground and was now lumbering towards him with the intent of making sure he met a dusty end.

"Spike, get down!" Buffy yelled at her blond lover as she drew the axe back and expertly threw it at the creature. Spike dropped to a crouch and watched the weapon fly over his head to embed into the Fyarl's skull. With a painful wail, the demon fell backwards, dead before it had even touched the ground.

"Nice shot," Spike complimented as he stood up and walked over to the body. Placing a booted foot on the Fyarl's shoulder, he bent forward then grabbed the axe's handle and pulled it out of its head in one clean jerk. Weighing it in his hand, he smiled at the balance and looked up as Buffy joined him.

"Thanks," the Slayer replied as she held her hand out for the weapon.

"Uh-uh," Spike said, shaking his head and moving the axe behind his back. "Finders keepers."

"But I found it," she retorted, trying to step around him and grab the weapon.

"Gotta pay the price first," he told her with a smirk.

Buffy folded her arms and desperately tried to hold back her smile. "And what price is that?"

The vampire moved closer, his eyes darkening as they travelled down her face to focus solely on her mouth. "What do you think?"

Tapping a finger on her bottom lip, the Slayer frowned slightly as she pretended to think it over. "Hmmm…what could the price be…oh! I know! Chicken wings!"

Spike shook his head. "No."

"Those blooming onion thingy's?"

"Nope."

"Candles?"

"Not even warm, pet."

"Yes they are, if you have enough of them…"

"Buffy…"

"Okay, I give in, what's the price?"

"Just a kiss."

Smiling sweetly, Buffy closed the small distance between them then slid her hands up the front of his jacket and clasped her hands behind his neck. "You silly vampire," she whispered, raising her face to his. "Kissing you is not a price…it's a gift."

Spike swallowed hard at the loving look in her eyes and brought his arms around to grasp her waist as she tugged him down for a blistering kiss. Just as he was contemplating taking her right then and there, she pulled away, leaving him feeling more than a little frustrated and oddly bereft. Looking down at his hands he saw they were empty and his gaze immediately snapped to her face, taking in the wide grin and mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You devious little devil," he declared, pointing at the axe that she now held in her right hand.

"What?" she replied, her tone one of complete innocence.

"I'll give you 'what'," he ground out as he began to advance on her. "Just wait until I get my hands on you."

Buffy started to giggle and back away. "If you catch me, you can have me…and the axe." With that she turned and ran off through the cemetery as fast as she could.

Grinning, Spike was about to take off after her when a rustling from a nearby bush made him pause. Turning towards the greenery, he sniffed the air trying to catch a scent of what was there and realised it was that of an animal. The rustling came again and then he made out the shape of a dog as it slunk off into the enveloping shadows.

"Last one to your crypt is a stinky, smelly vampire," Buffy's voice floated on the air, bringing him back to the task at hand. Find Buffy. Shag Buffy. Shag Buffy again. To hell with the axe. With that thought in mind, he broke into a run, quietly confident that for once in his unlife, his plan would work.

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Rowan entered the old church and headed over to the small chamber she now called home. "I'm back," she called out as she entered the room and placed a large pizza box down on the rickety table.

Out from the shadowed corners of the room appeared a fox that trotted up to her and sat down.

"I've got pizza," she told it, opening the lid and tilting the box slightly so that the animal could see the contents easier. Looking around, she frowned slightly and turned back the beast in front of her and asked, "Where’s Rufus?"

Moments later, she heard the sound of paws on the cement floor behind her, the claws clacking loudly in the surrounding quiet. Eyes narrowing, she turned around and demanded harshly, "Where the hell have been?"

The fox quickly morphed into the image of a good looking young man with green eyes and burnished copper coloured hair. "Out," he replied curtly.

"Out where, exactly?" she quizzed him, suspiciously.

"Just out," he repeated, impatiently. "You know, walking around, absorbing the local atmosphere, checking out the scenery…watching the Slayer and her Vampire making out…"

Rowan gasped. "You didn't! Are you crazy? What if they'd seen you?"

Rufus snorted derisively. "Geez, Rowan, relax! They were too busy sticking their tongues down each other's throats to notice me. Besides, I was bored. It's okay for you, you're getting out every day while I'm stuck here keeping Pops company.

Rowan let out an angry huff of aggravation and pinned Rufus with a fixed stare. There was nothing she could do about the fact he'd been out, but her brother's cocky impetuousness was the bane of her existence. On more than one occasion they'd been forced to change their plans because of him. They'd even had to depart the last town a darn sight quicker then they'd planned, leaving behind a loose end that she was worried could eventually come back to bite them in the ass.

Ignoring Rowan’s glare, Rufus grinned insolently then reached passed her and grabbed up a slice of the pizza and hungrily began to eat. "Thanks, Sis," he said, taking another bite of the greasy food.

Shaking her head, Rowan pushed back her ire then turned to the other fox and tilted her head to the side. "Don't you want anything, Dad?"

This time, the change was slower until a oldish looking man stood before them both, yawning widely. He sported a slight paunch and his thinning auburn hair was liberally streaked with grey. "Thank you, my dear," he said as he reached over and plucked a slice of pizza from the box and sat himself down on a ripped armchair that they'd obtained from the local dump three nights before. "So, how did it go today? Did you have fun?"

"Uh-huh," nodded Rowan, taking her own piece of pizza. "I finally got to meet the Slayer and her friends."

Her father drew in a sharp breath and looked at her, eyes alight with anticipation. "Really? So the game's afoot, eh, my dear?"

The sometime vixen nodded and gave him a sly smile. "I've already got to that Xander person and his wife. I had a nice little chat with her this afternoon over coffee and she’s as gullible as a child. Such insecurities for a married ex-demon." She mock sympathised before pulling a disagreeable face and adding, "It's all been sickeningly easy so far."

Her father chuckled gleefully and clapped his hands. "I knew the boy would be the weakest link in the group," he crowed happily. "Now you just have to be your usual conniving self and make their lives hell."

"I’ve started. I just hope the others are a bit more of a challenge," his daughter replied with a nasty grin. "The witches could be interesting. I think one of them is just ripe for bending my way."

Her father nodded, then turned to his son. "Are you ready to join in the festivities, my boy?"

"Always ready, Dad, you know that," he answered, taking another slice of pizza.

"Good, then make sure you go out and get some books and a backpack tonight," his father ordered gruffly. "You're going back to school."

"What?!" the young man exclaimed incredulously. His expression darkened. "But, Dad, I thought you said that this time I could be right in the thick of things…"

His father held up his hand and the boy immediately stopped talking. "You will be, Rufus, you will be," he placated soothingly.

"By being at school?" Rufus queried dubiously. "How?"

The old man smiled. "By using your charms on the Slayer's sister."

Rufus looked back at his father and returned his smile with a malicious grin of his own. "Poor little girl," he said with a mocking sigh. "She's not even gonna know what hit her."

"That's my boy," his father praised proudly and then turned his attention back to the pizza. "Now, let's eat."

TBC IN CHAPTER 4