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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to all of you readers and reviewers.
This chapter is 'nice' kind of. The next one will be angstsy...
YOU NEVER CAN TELL


Chapter 16: ‘Earth Angel’


“My angel,” Spike moaned as he thrust into his ‘bride’ for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.

Spike and Buffy had rented a fairly decent motel room, right after they married, in Amarillo, Texas. Just the fact that they ‘found’ a fairly decent room in Amarillo, Texas, was an account that things were going to be okay. Hopefully.

The minute they had entered the nice room, Spike pulled Buffy to him and began to undress her, quickly. Buffy didn’t resist, having been proclaimed by a Preacher, and the state of Texas, a legally married woman.

It wasn’t an hour before Spike and Buffy had christened their honeymoon, and gone on to celebrate it, fully. Right now, Spike was making good on his promise to to the ‘wedding night’ right and thrusting into Buffy, from behind.

“Feels so much better without those nasty rubber thingys,” Buffy purred as her husband pummeled her from behind.

“Right,” Spike hissed in pleasure as he thrust into his little angel and clasped her slim hips with his hands. “Just one of the benefits of you being pregs, baby,” he added with a husky moan.

After they had made love and lost count doing so, Spike and Buffy snuggled into the motel room bed and just ‘talked’ for a while. Before the fell off to sleep, they went over their plans,vocally.

Meanwhile, back in Sunnydale, the Summers and Giles clan had finally come to the startling realization that Spike and Buffy had run off together!

“What the hell do you know, boy!” Hank Summers roared as he clenched his big hands together, by his side. The object of his venom was one Xander Lavelle Harris.

“Nothin’ Uncle Hank,” Xander lied, smoothly, keeping his calm and trying to keep a smug smirk from showing on his mouth. Anya, who was there too, held onto her Xander’s hand, occasionally squeezing it, tightly, in support of him.

“Liar!” Hank roared again, which was when Joyce Summers, his wife, clasped him by the arm and shushed him.

“Xander says he knows nothing, Hank,” Joyce mumbled, “give him some slack,” she advised with a warning look. Xander noticed that his Uncle’s second wife gave him a look of her own disbelief in his innocence, behind her husband’s back.

“What’s this about then, Hank,” Lavelle Harris, Xander’s father grumbled as he stood behind his oldest son. “If Xander here says he don’t know nothin’ then he don’t.”

“He knows plenty, Harris,” Hank growled at his late wife’s brother-in-law. “He’s thick as thieves with William and my Buffy. So, he’s girl there, Anya Jenkins and they both know plenty, I’ll wager!” Hank added, with a growl, almost as an afterthought.

Lavelle had brought Xander over to Hank and Joyce’s house, reluctantly. The man had not cared for Hank’s ‘summons’ of his son, Xander and Anya, however, he felt he owed his wife’s, sister’s widower ‘something’ at least.

“I’d say you’re best through with the both of them,” Lavelle Harris muttered, nastily. “Spike Giles is trash and if your precious daughter got caught up with him? Who cares. Good riddance, I say,” the older man snorted.

Hank made a rush for Lavelle, murder in his deep brown eyes. Fortunately, Xander, Rupert Giles and Joyce stopped him from putting his hands on the man.

After securing his Uncle Hank into his big, comfy chair, Xander stood in front of the Summers’ patriach, to block his way.

“Uncle Hank,” Xander sighed, heavily, “I can’t tell you ‘where’ Buffy and Spike went,” he lied easily. “But,” he continued, somewhat stammering his next sentence, “I can tell you this.”

Xander Harris paused, cleared his throat then looked deeply into his Uncle Hank’s dark brown eyes. He wanted to make this as ‘easy’ on Buffy’s dad as possible.

“Buffy is pregnant Uncle Hank,” Xander finally blurted out. “She and Spike took off to get married, knowing you’d never allow it.”

The dark haired teen stepped back from his Uncle by marriage and waited for the inevitable smack across the face routine. Xander Harris was used to that, from his own folks that is.

“Pregnant,” Hank Summers whimpered, his blue eyes wide with shock. “My baby? Having a baby?”

Rupert Giles, who had been witnessing this whole charade groaned loudly. “That boy,” he moaned in frustration, “what am I going to do with that…”

“I’ll tell you what,” Hank hissed, suddenly quite the papa lion again, “I’m going to have his ass thrown in jail. When we find him, that is,” he added with venom.

“Uncle Hank,” Xander interjected, quietly, “both Spike and Buffy are under age, sir,” the teen reminded everyone present. “How can you arrest Spike? He’s underage, just like Buffy. Oh, Uncle Hank, for God’s sake,” Xander shook his dark head and sat down on the Summers’ sofa. “Can’t you just let them be happy, Buffy and Spike I mean? They love each other, just let them go. In peace, please.”

“My God,” Hank groaned, miserably, “they’re barely able to feed and clothe themselves! How can they be married, raise a child? They’re under age, you’re right,” Hank’s countenounce brightened, briefly, “they can’t marry. They’ll be back and…” This seemed to lighten the Summers’ patriach’s mood, slightly that it.

“Uncle Hank,” Xander interjected, his voice low and very subdued.
“I don’t ‘know’ where Spike and Buffy went to get married, sir,” the dark haired teened lied again, but in a respectful tone. “Possibly in a northern state? Mid west. I did hear Spike mention Indiana, or was it Kentucky? Xander offered weakly.

“I can assure you, Uncle Hank,” Xander tried not to sound to smug, “Spike and your daughter are married by now. Legally, somewhere far away from this place and frankly, no disrespect,” the teen continued. “Spike and Buffy love each other, they wouldn’t have married if they didn’t. They had to go away, somewhere they’d be accepted as man and wife. I don’t need to remind you, Uncle, that California may demand parental consent for seventeen and eighteen-year-olds? But there’s a lot of states, and a country up north, that doesn’t ask questions after sixteen. Okay?”

Xander looked his Uncle square in the face and sighed, heavily. Shaking his dark head, he reached out and took Anya’s hand again.

“Let’s get you home,” Xander murmered to Anya. “Nothing more ‘we’ can do here, baby. I don’t think ‘they’re’ going to listen.”

Xander led Anya to the Summers’ front door and glanced back, briefly, at the somber adults that just sat, stood and watched the young couple leave.

“Uncle Hank,” Xander began, quietly, “I think you better come to grips that Buffy is married, going to be a mother and just let it be as such. Please?”

Xander opened the front door and led Anya, who had been unusually silent, out of it. The door slammed shut and that’s when all hell really broke loose inside the Summers’ house.

“Let it be?” Hank hissed, leaping up from the chair and glowering at Rupert Giles. “Let’s just see if I let this be. I’ll find those two brats if I die trying and when I do? I’m dragging Buffy back here, forcing her to give up this mistake of hers and sending her to a private boarding school. To save what’s left of her education and her once promising future!”

Rupert didn’t respond, just hung his head, sadly. Joyce watched as Hank stormed out of the living room, into dining room, bar area.

“How ‘will’ they live, Rupert?” Joyce asked, emotionally exausted from all the unheaval. Her nerves were completely shot and she prayed that Dawn, upstairs in her room, had not heard any of this mess downstairs.

“I don’t know, Joyce,” Rupert sighed in a shaky voice. “My son is resourceful, I know that and Buffy and he ‘will’ make it. Somehow,” Giles whispered, hopefully.

Spike and Buffy rented a one bedroom, four room tiny house in Houston. Xander’s friend Jesse and his wife, Fred had arranged the whole thing, in just two days. The house belonged to a school teacher and his wife, that once taught the children of oil field and construction workers. The couple had moved back East and kept the house to rent to needy couples. For Spike and Buffy? It had been a windfall.

Jesse set up a job for Spike, at the construction company that his dad owned. Apparently, even though Jesse’s parents had not approved of his young marriage, they had fallen in love with their only grandson, Jake. Nothing was too much to ask for by Jess and Fred now, from his folks, so Mr. Green gladly took Spike on as an employee. The older Mr. Green never asked questions about Spike or Buffy.

After Spike and Buffy bought a few used items for furniture, they set up housekeeping in their new home. It would be tough, of course, but they already had some built in friends, via Xander Harris. Jesse and Fred Green had been a Godsend to Buffy and Spike, everything they had done to help the couple had turned out, so far.

Of course Buffy and Spike kept in touch with Xander and Anya, by pay phones. Xander and Anya never, ever, let on as to where their best friends had run off to. Lavelle Harris and his wife, had never really been aware of Jesse Green, Xander’s friend. Much like most of poor Xander’s miserable childhood, his folks just didn’t pay that much attention to him. Therefore, they had no idea that Jesse now lived in Texas and that Xander would have called on him for a personal favor.

At night, after Spike’s long day at work, Buffy would have his supper ready and waiting. Such as it was, that is. Buffy wasn’t known for her domestic skills, but she muddled through somehow and she was improving, daily.

Spike would come home, bathe and then settle down in front of their little black and white TV with Buffy. Dinner was ‘their’ time together, without the worries of every day survival.

Buffy had wanted to get a job, doing something, but Spike nixed the idea, immediately. Some gut instinct, deep inside Spike, warned him that his wife’s pregnancy was not going to be easy for her, or him. She was such a little thing, Buffy was and so young. It scared Spike to think that things might not go well with the delivery and he felt Buffy should take it easy during the whole pregnancy.

Sometimes, at night, after dinner, when it was real quiet and peaceful outside of the little white house? Spike and Buffy would crank up their little Hi-Fi record player and slow dance to some love song.

These times would always stick out in Spike’s memories, as the best times. When he was with his Buffy, his angel on Earth, alone. Dancing slow together.


‘Earth Angel’ (by The Crew Cuts)


‘Earth angel, earth angel,
Will you be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I’m just a fool,
A fool in love with you.

Earth angel, earth angel
The one I adore
Love you forever and ever more
I’m just a fool
A fool in love with you.

I fell for you and I knew
The vision of your love-lovliness
I hoped and I pray that someday
I’ll be the vision of your happiness…


Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time
I’m just a fool
A fool in love with you-ou-ou’


A/N: Somebody fire up the grill and throw the corn on!!!

This fiction is close to the end, finally. Maybe three more chapters?
I hope this chapter kind of updated readers on what was going on in Texas and California?

Anyway, things aren’t going to be all rosy in Houston, promise. In the next chapter (Lonely Teardrops) Spike and Buffy have a bad argument and of course, Buffy will run off from him…cry, cry. (Don’t worry, she won’t run too far, but Spike doesn’t know that…)

Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





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