Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh
Chapter 27 Man or Monster
Buffy made her way indoors through the back door into the kitchen. She could hear the TV on in the family room, the murmur of Giles’ voice talking to her mother, a splutter of loud laughter from Xander, Anya giggling.
It was peaceful in the kitchen. She took a can of Coke out of the fridge and rolled its coldness against her hot forehead. She’d run all the way home from Spike’s crypt, that was why she was all sweaty girl.
The work top was covered with different plates of food. Joyce Summers had bought and cooked enough for an army. A rib of beef resting under a cover, a turkey roasting in the oven; vegetables, potatoes, yams, salad and rolls, Buffy could see and smell it, but for some reason it didn’t make her feel hungry.
All this food for just a few people. Her mom had made a cake, too. There was a bowl with the remnants of chocolate frosting on the side. Buffy stuck her finger in it and scooped up a little of the soft icing sugar.
As she licked at it, she found herself wondering what Spike would have eaten for Christmas dinner all those years ago in England when he was an ordinary man. How weird to have had nothing to eat but blood ever since.
Although - she pulled herself together sharply - where Spike was concerned, she knew damn well he ate other things. Only half an hour ago she’d found him drinking beer at Xander’s and eating chips. He’d devoured practically all of Willow’s cookies after the ‘getting engaged’ spell.
She felt her face going red as memories of that time came flooding back. Memories she’d buried so deeply in her mind that she’d thought them gone for ever. The overwhelming emotion she’d felt, the passion, the desire. It was appalling to remember what they’d done in the dark courtyard outside Giles’ house.
Buffy sat down at the table with her drink. She was shivering, even thought the kitchen was warm. She knew she ought to go next door and be festive girl with all the others, but there was plenty of time for that.
The only sure way to get rid or the memories, she decided, was to go through them, one by one, then she could safely discard them and never think again about cool lips and muscular bodies and the sensation of being carried forwards along a river of feeling before they plunged together down a roaring torrent of bliss.
Bliss? The can bent and crumpled in her hand as she tried to wipe the word and memory out of her mind. But it wouldn’t go. She could deny most things in life if she tried hard enough. She’d had enough practice to make perfect. Denying her calling was second nature. Denying other things just followed on, easily, smoothly. Sometimes she didn’t even know she was doing it.
So why couldn’t she deny that she had felt bliss with Spike? That they had made love on the ground, tearing desperately at each other’s clothes, consummating some urge that she did not and never would understand.
Was that why she hadn’t wanted him here in her house for Christmas dinner? Because she was scared that somehow her friends and family - her mother - would look at them and guess what they’d done together?
She knew in her heart of hearts that he would have liked to have joined them for a Christmas meal. Had he refused because he knew she would have been on edge with him there? Did the monster have that much sensitivity? Surely not. He’d just been annoying on principle.
“Buffy?”
She spun round as her mom came into the room, her gentle eyes looking puzzled.
“There you are? I was beginning to think you’d got lost.”
“No, just taking a moment. Everything smells good. And I can hear Giles is here. So, are we eating soon?”
Joyce smiled. “Yes, I think so. I don’t suppose you saw Spike when you were patrolling, did you?”
“Spike? Why?”
“Well, I know he’s not a friend - ”
“Mom, that’s the truest thing you’ve ever said!”
“But it’s Christmas, Buffy. The one time of the year when you try and look outside of yourself to those who are lonely or alone. We’re all here, together, and even Giles is having fun because he knows all the answers to the quiz show questions. I don’t like the thought of anyone I know being alone at Christmas.”
Buffy got up and threw her squashed can into the trash. “Spike might be spending it with friends. I don’t think vampires ‘do’ Christmas.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll save his present for when I next see him.”
Buffy turned slowly and stared at her mother, her eyes wide and green. “You’ve got Spike a present?”
Joyce looked surprised. “Well, yes. Just a little bottle of Scotch. I know I shouldn’t give him alcohol, but he’s not the easiest person to buy for. I wanted to get him a video of Passions, but I couldn’t find one.”
“Oh!” Her voice sounded small and lost. Her mind was whirling. Her mom wouldn’t have thought it odd if she’d asked Spike to dinner. Joyce‘s compassion was so much greater than hers.
“You quite like him, don’t you?” she asked, quietly, staring out of the window at the dark yard beyond.
Joyce Summers’ lips twitched. “Like? That’s the wrong word, Buffy. I’m not stupid, I do know he’s still a monster inside a human form. The man I hit over the head with an axe once. But - ”
“But?”
Her mother started to speak, then looked puzzled, as if the words coming from her were unexpected. “Sometimes you meet men who turn out to be monsters. Spike is a monster who somehow always turns out to be more of a man than many I’ve known.”
Buffy stiffened. “Well, you’d better lay another place at the table,” she said. “The monster is walking across our back yard!”
to be continued
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Spufette for help with the American Christmas dinner menu. I take full blame if it still sounds wrong.