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Author's Chapter Notes:
None, except for my eternal gratefulness to my beta!
Chapter 5
Sheik Khari Ahani's little secret
A large part of Buffy's mind was relieved that she would never have to put up with Spike's advances and mind games any more. The first few days after the unpleasant conversation [no one had ever talked to her that way and gladly no one knew what had really transpired between them] passed, but the damage in her heart lingered. However, the fact that she did not have any marital duties to worry about left her with a most frightening question: what am I going to do around here now?
From walking through the gardens with Willow and Tara, to learning the art of middle eastern dance from Kendra, or spending hours soaking in a hot tub and tending to her beauty were all very well, but the fact remained that she was stuck in the palace with nowhere to turn to and no other company than that of a bunch of brainwashed girls who all seemed to think Spike was God's gift to women. She liked the other girls - well, at least most of them anyway-, but, ironically, those who came closest to her idea of a liberated woman were Darla and Drusilla.
After a while though, Buffy began to notice, out of living without the distracting fear of yet another night of fending off the sheik, that strange things were taking place at the palace.
It all started with a belly dancing lesson with Kendra. Since Buffy had been getting the basics quite fast, Kendra was moving her on to a more advanced exercise.
"No, no," Kendra explained patiently. "The moon circle is something you do just with your hips, your butt stays where it is!"
Buffy cast her a hurt puppy look. "I'm not moving my---"
"Oh yes, you are," Kendra insisted and tied a silk scarf around Buffy's body. "Now you try it."
Buffy tried to imitate the movement Kendra had shown her, and to her dismay she found the scarf did not stay in place. "Alright, maybe a little," Buffy admitted, looking tired.
Kendra smiled compassionately. "Do you wish to stop for today?"
Buffy nodded gratefully. "Tell ya what, I'm going to have a quick shower and then we can have some dinner?"
Kendra nodded. "That would be agreeable."
Buffy untied the scarf and walked towards the bathroom. She opened the door and --- saw Faith, getting ready for her meeting with Spike.
"Hey!" Faith snapped, trying to cover herself with a towel.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were in h..." Buffy began to apologize and made to withdraw immediately, then broke off with a frown. Faith was by no means naked.
Faith was wearing a sports bra and gymnastics pants underneath the richly decorated canary dress she was putting on. Buffy gave her a questioning look. "What?, no expensive silk? Just plain old cotton? So Spike's into role-playing, huh? What are you playing, naughty cheerleader and lusting coach?"
To Buffy's surprise, Faith did not grin self-assuredly, but looked shocked, as if she had been caught doing something illegal. "None of your damn business, B" she snapped, pulling the dress around her, and, oddly enough, blushing.
"Sorry," Buffy began, confused. "I was just wondering..."
"Get out!" Faith yelled, making an angry move towards Buffy and the door, which made Buffy snap out of it, and left, closing the door quickly behind her. This did not make any sense. Faith enjoyed playing the vixen and bragged about their dexterous sexual encounters. Why would she be embarrassed by something as simple as her outfit, which, actually, was the less revealing she got to see her wear so far?
Buffy wondered why Faith would go to see her lover in sports clothes. Determined to find out what Faith's behaviour was all about, Buffy waited patiently for her to come back from the supposedly sexcapades.
When Faith returned around midday and cast her clothes away into the laundry, Buffy sneaked in there furtively and examined her things. The sports clothes were soaked in sweat. Buffy arched an eyebrow. This looked more like a workout routine than a night of passion. Before she could further ponder onto this, Faith threw the door open and slammed Buffy into the wall, eyes flaming. "What are you doing with my laundry? Are you spying on me?"
"No," Buffy hurried to say.
Faith tightened her grip. "I thought I'd made myself clear when I said my sex life was none of your business!"
With more strength than Faith would have given the tiny blonde credit for, Buffy pushed her away. "Come on, Faith, you've been flaunting your sex life into my face since the moment we met!" She tilted her head. "I'm not an expert, but don't you usually take off your clothes during sex? Yours are soaked, like you'd run the New York marathon!"
Faith looked sheepish.
Buffy's eyes widened as the whole truth dawned on her. "Oh. My. God!! You're not having sex with Spike!. You're his personal trainer!."
"No," Faith protested. "Just sometimes," she added in a low voice, sounding so vulnerable Buffy almost felt sorry for her. "He needs a good trainer," Faith explained, "A sheik is often challenged, there are many enemies just waiting for him to show weakness. If it comes down to a fight, he has to be prepared, and I'm the only one he trusts with this matter."
Suddenly, Buffy saw her with different eyes. "Don't worry," she assured Faith, "Your secret's safe with me."
Buffy recovered very slowly from the surprising revelation. She was determined to get to the bottom of this, so with nothing better to do, she began a sort of a crusade and started paying closer attention to the other women's doings.
At first glance, Anya appeared to be nothing more than a brainless sex toy, but now Buffy took the time to take a closer look. For instance, she noticed that Spike always called her to him the night before an important business meeting. On those nights, she noticed spots of ink on Anya's fingers when she returned to the harem. Buffy's eyes widened. He didn't call Anya exclusively for sex - he also asked her for business advice.
When the quiet girl Fred returned to the harem, exhausted and with tangled hair, Buffy overheard a conversation between the eunuchs (she had finally got a hang of the language) that Spike was planning to add a new palace building, and there had been some problems with the statics that his architects could not manage to solve.
And when Kendra, on one of their walks through the gardens, asked her to go back and fetch her a hairbrush from the bedroom, Buffy discovered several pages covered in Spike's writing, hidden under Kendra's sheets - French homework Kendra had given him.
Buffy realized that she had indeed underestimated the other women. There was a lot going on in that bedroom, other than the obvious.
After watching the events for a while, Buffy made a decision. She would confront Spike with what she knew. He was permanently worrying about his macho reputation, so he could not afford rumors of being less than a manly man. And even though it would technically be blackmail, and clearly it was below her, perhaps there was a chance, even if it was a slight one, that he would agree to let her make her phone call.
So, with that thought in mind Buffy headed to his room, gathering in the way (it was such a long one) all the courage she could muster. But even before she entered, Buffy heard agitated voices from his quarters. She frowned. Just then, a very short, balding, beady-eyed man, face white with anger, rushed past her, cursing under his breath in English.
Cautiously, Buffy approached the door and peeked into the room.
"You can't keep firing your English teachers!" Spike said, more loudly than necessary, "Who's supposed to give you a continuous and I might add, quite expensive, education if you can't follow simple instructions?"
Khari lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm Khari Ahani, I'm the sheik's son. I don't follow other people's instructions!" He looked so much like a smaller copy of his father, that Buffy had to stifle a giggle.
Spike shook his head in impatience. "In your classroom, you are not my son, you are a student. That means you're there to learn. If you don't learn, you'll never understand your subjects' needs, and you'll never get to grow up. You'll just get older." He whispered that last line as he knelt down to be face to face with his son, while grabbing his head with both hands and pressing their foreheads together. "You have to do what your teachers say, son. Not for their sake, but for yours."
"Mr Snyder is stupid," Khari said helplessly, "He's so boring and no fun."
Spike stroked his son's hair and failed helplessly at not smiling. "I know," he sighed, "But good teachers are hard to find."
Father and son exchanged gazes of mutual understanding.
Buffy just stood there and looked at them. Her heart went out to the little boy.
Khari's gaze traveled to the door. "I want Buffy," he said with a determination proper of a sheik.
Spike turned his head and saw her standing there.
"I'm sorry," Buffy said, "I didn't mean to intrude."
"That's ok," Spike replied thoughtfully.
"Hi, Buffy," Khari said.
"Hey," she said softly, "How are you today?"
Then Khari ran to her, and Buffy immediately knelt down to reduce the difference in height, which in all honesty wasn't that big after all, and Khari hugged her tightly.
Buffy held the child for a moment, and then kept him at an arm's length to look at him, smiling. "You've grown again, at least an inch since yesterday, haven't you? You'll be taller than me in no time!"
Khari blushed adorably. "That's just the new shoes."
Spike was watching them for a moment. "Buffy."
Buffy frowned. "Yes?"
"Can I have a word with you?"
Buffy nodded at Khari. "Why don't you get Mr Gordo and play with him a bit?"
Spike tilted his head, in that oh-so-adorable kinda way. "Mr Gordo?"
"His pig toy," Buffy said with just a hint of reproach in her voice. Mr Gordo was Khari's favourite toy. How could his father know nothing of it?
Khari nodded and hurried off to get the toy.
Spike watched him with guilt stricken all over his face. "I don't have nearly enough time to be as close to him as I would like."
Buffy rose and straightened her crumpled dress. "No. You don't make enough time for him. There's a difference."
Spike nodded slowly. "I know." He watched where his son had disappeared for a moment. "I'm not always the father he deserves," he said in a low voice, barely audible. "That's what I'm sorry about. That he doesn't even know how much..." He shook his head. "Sorry 'bout the rant, I got carried away."
Buffy's heart was pounding in her chest. She meant to tell him that she knew about his dependence on his wives, that she was going to tell everyone about it if he did not let her make her phone call, that if she got her way she was going to run from him as fast and as far as she could. But the words just stuck in her throat. Spike looked desolate behind the mask he so carefully maintained for everyone. There were things in his life he regretted, past mistakes he could not undo. And she realized that she had been deceived by appearances, once again. She thought she had seen right through him from the first moment. But she realized then that she actually knew very little about Spike, the real Spike.
Spike looked at her thoughtfully. "I think Khari's suggestion may not be that far off, after all. I mean, the two of you are getting on so well, and English is your native language."
Buffy shook her head and laughed, partly to break the tension. "I'm hardly a teacher, Spike."
Spike shrugged. "For God's sake, Buffy, Khari's six years old, you won't be teaching him Shakespeare! Perhaps, some children's books, fairy tales, basic spelling, I don't expect any miracles. But what I said is true, I'm running out of ideas here, when it comes to finding an English teacher he's willing to accept."
"How about Willow?" Buffy suggested.
"Willow's a very bright woman," Spike admitted, "But she's also a gentle person. Khari is a lot like me, and..."
"So I've noticed," Buffy remarked.
"... and I think he needs someone whose authority he accepts. Someone who doesn't push him, but at the same time, doesn't let him cross too many lines either." He looked at her questioningly. "Will you teach him? Please."
Buffy was watching Khari as he ran towards them, clutching Mr Gordo. She was grateful for the distraction. "Hello, Mr Gordo," she greeted the pig toy. "How have you been?"
"He's been fine," Khari explained, "But that's because he doesn't have to listen to Mr Snyder all day!"
Buffy giggled at that, a high, silvery laughter, her green eyes sparkling as she caressed the little boy's cheek. The sight left Spike staring at her, mesmerized, wishing it was him being caressed in Khari's place. Buffy felt his gaze on her and turned her head. Their eyes met.
Khari walked up to his father. "Can Buffy teach me?"
Buffy looked at the child helplessly. If she made such a commitment now and ran away soon after, it would break the little boy's heart. She could not take such responsibility.
"I want Buffy," Khari repeated more urgently and just a hint of desperation.
"Yeah, me too," Spike said hoarsely, his voice trailing off.
For a moment, he was caught up entirely in that moment.
"Dad," Khari said indignantly, the cause for his father's distraction lost on him.
Spike snapped out of it immediately. "Buffy, will you be Khari's English teacher? If you say no," he added with a mischievous smirk, "I'll have to resort to asking his mother."
For a moment, Buffy pictured little Khari sitting in a dark study with Drusilla's strict eyes watching his every move and giving him homework till his fingers bled. She only hesitated for a second. "Count me in," she said.
Khari broke into triumphant laughter and hugged Buffy's knees with such a force he almost toppled her over.
Spike beamed at her with a triumphant smile. "Good! Now, that's settled." He took a key from the drawer of his desk and handed it to Buffy. "You're welcome to use my private library. Two doors down. Any time you like."
Buffy took the key from his hand. Their fingers touched. Buffy felt like she had touched a live wire. "Thanks," she said in a small voice.
"I'll show you," Khari offered and clutched her hand, clearly deciding that his father had had enough Buffy time for today.
Spike nodded encouragingly. "You can go, Buffy. Ah, before I forget: what was it you came to see me for?"
Buffy shrugged. "It wasn't important."
Khari ran off to the library before her.
"Thanks," Spike said. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," Buffy replied.
"It is appreciated." He smiled, but his gaze was melancholic. "You're a lucky girl. You get to spend a lot of time with Khari," he said quietly.
"You love him," Buffy replied without thinking. "He's your world. And he knows it."
*
Buffy returned to the harem with a pile of children's books to go through for texts she would give to Khari. But her mind was elsewhere. All the time she was getting glimpses of the person behind the sheik, and those glimpses made it harder and harder for her to hate him. Why couldn't they have met somewhere else? Why did she have to be a hostage, and he a sheik? Who knew what might have been if...
Faith grinned when she saw her. "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"
Buffy looked at her suspiciously. "Huh?"
"Shakespeare, B!" Faith said, "That was just my way of saying: congrats to being the new English teacher!"
"Oh, thanks," Buffy replied, relieved that Faith did not mean to imply anything else.
*
Anya closed the books. "That's it. This way, you'll get the most money out of this deal."
"Thank you, Anya," Spike said. "I couldn't have figured it out without you."
"Oh yes, you could," Anya disagreed. "But it would have taken you ages," she added with a grin.
"Probably," Spike admitted. He patted her shoulder. "Great job." He glanced at the clock. It was very late. "Where does the time go?" He kissed her forehead. "Good night, Anya. Thanks so much for your help."
Anya flung her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. "You're very, very welcome," she whispered, then deepened the kiss, hinting that the night wasn't over for them just yet.
Spike returned the kiss for a moment, then freed himself from her embrace. "I'm sorry," he said lamely, "It's been a long day."
Anya pouted. "You keep saying that," she reproached him. "No pressure or anything, but I can't wait any longer. I haven't gotten any sex since she came here, and I doubt anyone else has!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, pouting like a small child. "You don't see us any more. All you see is her."
Spike arched an eyebrow. "It's that obvious?"
"Not for everyone," Anya said. "Not yet. They still think it's the challenge of a new conquest. But it's different this time. Isn't it?"
She wanted Spike to contradict her.
But he remained silent, eyes casting elsewhere.
"Then why are you not giving her what she wants? She thinks you're cruel, and cold, and an as..." Anya gestured helplessly. "...Well, not a nice person, anyway."
Spike took a deep breath. "All she wants is to get away from me."
"Well, can you blame her? She was kidnapped from a plane on her way to the first family vacation in years, dragged through the desert on a camel, fending off leering terrorists, sold into slavery, branded, bullied by Dru, dressed like a whore and led straight to your bedroom, all in one single day - can't think of a reason why she would want to run away, especially from you," Anya said bluntly and adding, quite oddly, some sarcasm to the mix.
"I didn't know! I swear!" Spike said in shock. "I had no idea..."
"Did you even bother to ask?" Anya asked.
TBC...





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