“What the hell am I doing?” Fuming, Spike banged his right hand against the steering wheel of his new ride. “What the bloody, fucking hell am I doing?” Regardless of what his instincts were yelling, “Turn around. Turn around,” he drove on down the “Leave It To Beaver” residential street. “I’ll tell you what you’re doing, you nancy boy. You’re going to pick up your date at her father’s house like some lad just out of short pants. Bloody ridiculous. An over a century old, master vampire is going to take the once over by dear old dad.”
“Pick up your date.” That one little phrase halted Spike mid-tirade to consider right and proper dates. He certainly never had what could be termed a real date with Dru, unless you count an alley, biting, and getting turned. Then it was shag, hunt, and feed. Nah. Next was Harmony, who a bloke didn’t have to take her on a date. He’d get laid with only a wink and a smile. Then there was Buffy, which only deserved a bitter laugh. Hell, she wouldn’t even tell her friends, let alone be seen in public as a couple. Looking back at his experiences, he had never been on a “date.” ‘No time like the present and all that rot,’ Spike thought while giving a heart felt groan. ‘But she better be ready. I don’t fancy making chit chat with any man stupid enough to divorce Joyce.’
*****
Leaving his car parked at the curb, Spike reluctantly made his way to the Summers’ front door, all the while fussing at himself for having the jitters. Hank Summers answered the door shortly after Spike rang the bell. No shocker there. He was invited in, which was good so Spike didn’t have to be blatant and ask for one so he could enter the house.
“Come in, come in. I’m Hank Summers, Beth’s father.”
Spike stepped inside, rolling his eyes when Hank couldn’t see. Mr. Middle Class wanting to be Mr. Upper Class, Spike thought as he took note of what the shorter than average, balding man with bleached teeth. His clothes displayed designer’s labels in an effort to impress people. ‘Bugger that, I would rather impress this wanker into the wood work.’ “Name’s William.” The vampire could tell that Hank was going to ask about his last name, or the lack of, until Spike shook Hank’s proffered hand.
Hank quickly pulled his hand away. “Gosh, is it that cold outside?”
“Brisk, but not too bad, mate.” ‘Gee, you would be warmer if you put a rug on that shiny head’ wanted to trip off his tongue, but he let it lie. “Is Beth ready yet?”
“When you pulled up, she called down the stairs to say that she would be a few more minutes.” Patting Spike on the back, Hank led the way into the living room. “You know how women are…” With his hand, he gestured to a seat on the sofa, before going to stand with his arm on the fireplace mantle.
First, the git pats him on the back like he is some pimple-faced boy picking up his high school prom date. Next, by standing while Spike sat, Hank placed himself in a dominating position above the vampire. Been a while since he had killed a human, but Spike decided this bloke was sorely tempting. With a tilt of his head, a straight face, and sarcasm in his tone, Spike asked, “No, sir, how are women?” The question caught Beth’s father off guard. Good.
Hank searched for a new tactic. “Uh…You said your name is William…?”
Spike knew that ole baldy was again fishing for a last name, probably wanted to see Spike’s driver’s license so he could check for a police record and financial statements. Of course, that could be fun since he had bought all his papers anyway. “Yes, I did say my name is William.” ‘The bloke could catch a bloody whale and serve it up with a white wine sauce before I give a last name.’ Waiting for the next inquisition question, Spike stood and started to prowl the room.
“So, William, what do you do for a living?”
‘Now that was a cliché of a question.’ Spike didn’t bother to look at the man. “I do contract work for bails bondsmen.”
“Finances, accounting, something like that?”
Finally stopping his circuit around the room, Spike turned to stare the nosy, little pillock down. How he wished he had adopted a much more course accent earlier to enhance this next part. “No, I hunt down murderers, rapists and child molesters, and drag them back to jail, which usually involves violence.” Keeping his gaze steady, Spike enjoyed watching Hank’s eyes grow a little wider. The vampire hadn’t survived all these decades without being able to stare someone down while implying imminent bodily harm.
Hank wisely decided to retreat and scooted around the opposite side of the room from Spike. His speech came out a little faster and less assured. “Why don’t I see if Beth is ready? Uh, nice meeting you, William.”
Spike chuckled as Hank scurried out of the room. ‘That one was for you, Joyce.’
Beth appeared shortly thereafter. “Ready. And what did you say to Dad?” Her voice expressed her unspoken suspicions.
“Whatever do you mean, pet.” Spike’s voice all innocence as he courteously held the front door open for her. “Your father asked what I did for a living, and after I told him, he went up to get you.”
“Right. I bet your description was way graphic.” Beth slowed down as she approached his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, but she paused on the side walk, taking in the beautiful, black Jaguar with black, leather interior.
Curious as to why she stopped, Spike looked back over his shoulder. “Something amiss, luv?”
Beth tilted her head as she looked puzzled. “That’s not your car.”
“Didn’t nick it, if that’s what you mean.” Spike repressed a smile, but his eyes glittered mischievously. “And my name’s on the title, so I suppose it’s mine.”
Oblivious to the joke, Beth never took her eyes from the Jaguar and slowly shook her head. “The color’s right, but it’s too new.”
Now Spike was the one baffled. “I realize it’s not brand new, but I wanted one from when the company was still British owned instead of Ford.”
“No. Old as in older than me.”
Not sure what to say, Spike just gazed at her as she continued.
“It’s funny,” Buffy said with a little laugh. “For some reason, I saw you in a much older, bigger car. Black but with those fin thingies on the back.” Shrugging, Beth climbed into the passenger seat and smiled back up at him. “It must sound way wacked, but do you know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean, pet.” Spike closed the door, and as he walked around to the driver’s side, he clinched his jaw and rolled his eyes. ‘All the bloody effort I went to avoiding her remembering any past memories that could have been caused by seeing with the DeSoto, and that sodding car is all the bint can think about when she sees the new ride. Bugger it all.’
*****
Over the course of the next month, weekdays felt long and weekends much too short. During that month, Beth was only able to visit Sacramento twice which also meant she only saw William twice. However, that quickly evolved into three weekends a month, and if she could have slipped away from school and her Sunnydale life more often, Beth would have gone to see him every weekend. Each of those weekends in Sacramento, Beth spent one night with her dad, a daughter’s duty she had to bear, but the other night was left to go out with William.
On the other side of the burgeoning relationship, Spike wasn’t sure what to think about the Saturday nights they spent together. Long dinners with more talking than eating, a carnival, movies, and then after each time, dropping her off at daddy’s.
Even though Spike had buried it down deep nowadays, the vampire part of him ridiculed that he was just playing with a potential, succulent meal, and that the only reason any self respecting vampire would set foot into any of those lame human activities would be to pick out a tasty human to suck dry. Even in the last year with the vampire part of him weighed down with a soul, Saturday nights were spent satisfying his demon’s need for hunting and violence through work. Since the skips were like roaches, tending to scurry out from under their rocks for Saturday partying.
On the other hand, Spike’s other half, the man in him that he cultivated, reveling in the possibility of such simplistic, nonviolent activities. By no small part, the fact that he was spending evenings with Beth, who was really Buffy with a different frame of mind, played a large part of his pleasure. Not to mention that her flirting with him was a heady, addictive sensation. Now he saved hunting skips for other nights than Saturdays or after dropping Beth back off at her dads.
Yet, it’s always good to have some common ground with one’s different personalities. And the demon and the man did have one collective desire. Every time Spike took Beth to her dad’s, his two sides enjoyed visions in graphic, bloody detail of twisting the pretentious wanker’s head off and punting it down the bloody street.
When Beth looked back over the course of their dates so far, three tended to stand out. The first was when Spike took her to a small grille and bar, and afterwards they strolled over to a small carnival set up in the lot next door. Beth played some of the cheesy games of skill and won enough to make the hawkers suspicious. The second was a movie fest and the third, a professional basketball game.
Watching her childish glee at the carnival, Spike had to laugh every time she won; the slayer capabilities were, to some degree, still in tact. Not to mention the view she provided when leaned over to participate in several of the games was well worth every dollar he fronted her to play.
However, a little while later, the cocky vampire was certainly not laughing when with a growing grin Beth stopped in front of a house of mirrors.
When she noticed that he had paused, Beth took his hand and tried to pull him closer to the entrance of the attraction. “Oh, come on. You’ll love it. Pleeeease.” Beth begged.
“Think I’ll sit this one out, pet. Feel free to go yourself.” For all her pulling, Spike didn’t move one step.
She tried the questioning a man’s courage ploy. That worked with every male, didn’t it? “You’re not scared that you wouldn’t be able to find your way out?”
“Scared. Sure, that’s it. Running scared. Shaking in my boots. You want to see the yellow stripe down my back?” She could call him a big, red, fluffy chicken, and he still was not going near those mirrors with her around for the obvious vampire reasons.
She patted his hand that she was holding. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
Spike didn’t budge an inch, not even a centimeter. He didn’t have to play the big bad with her anymore or put on false pretenses. Hell, she didn’t even know what a big bad was. So, he didn’t even want to walk past that many mirrors with her. Any other time, it would have been fun to fuck with everybody’s sanity. Just NOT tonight. NOT with Beth. “Come on, pet. Why don’t we try that roller coaster thing that goes up and around in fast circles. Let’s conduct a little experiment to see if all that cotton candy you ate comes up.”
“Eeeewwww. Gross much?” Buffy gave him an are you kidding look before taking to challenge like he knew she couldn’t pass up. “Yuk-age but ok. Let’s go.”
Thankful, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he let Beth pull him away from the mirrors of the certain busting of his undead status.
Another weekend was memorable for Beth because it marked the beginning of a new level of their relationship, not a big change but a little one. That Saturday, they indulged in movie fest, which consisted of one picture picked by Spike and one that she picked. In other words, one was action, and one was a romantic comedy. During the first movie, Beth was almost bouncing in her seat with joy when he spread his arms on the back of the seats. However the urge to bounce ebbed when his arm never touched her. Beth was disappointed, but she reminded herself that neither of them were teenagers that were dropped off at the theatre by one of their mothers where the boy was sneaking his arm around the girl. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t touch him, so she settled for resting her head back against his arm. Up to this point, they rarely touched. In fact she suspected he was being extraordinarily careful about any contact, but this was a good start.
But the weekend that stood out the most in Beth’s mind was when Spike took her to a Sacramento Kings versus the LA Lakers basketball game. Staying true to his gentleman manners, Spike sat on the aisle, blocking Beth from anyone bumping her as they walked past. On their row, next to Beth were an empty seat and then a man that had come alone, which most likely explained the empty seat. William stayed remote from the game but watched intently, not wanting to look too enthusiastic for any sport other than British football. Not so reserved, Beth got caught up in the game, yelling with the fans and cheering when the Kings scored.
During half time, Spike excused himself to go get them drinks. Already frustrated because the long lines at the concession counter delayed him from returning to Beth, Spike’s blue eyes turned to yellow when he looked down the aisle to see the man, who had been two seats away, was now seated next to Beth with an arm draped across the back of her seat and turned so that his knees touched hers. While Spike was gone, the jerk made bold by beer must have scooted over into the empty seat, and now the git was smiling, talking, waving his drink in his free hand, and obviously putting on the oh-not-so-subtle moves. The vampire growled, ‘What, the wanker didn’t think I would come back? That’s bleedin’ his mistake, and that was one more than he should have made, especially when I rip his arm clean off and shove it up his arse.” One consolation was that Beth was trying to lean away from the drunk, obviously not falling for the overt pass, but even that still didn’t pacify his fury. When he felt wetness on his hands, Spike realized that he was choking the poor, defenseless beers he was holding.
Temporally getting himself under control, Spike waited until the suicidal ponce saw him standing at the top of the stairs, staring with yellow eyes closed into slits. As Spike started to head down, the fool had the good sense to scramble to the other end of the row and head up the aisle the vampire was not descending. When the guy scurried out of view, Spike made sure that his eyes had shifted back to their customary blue before handing the drinks off to Beth. He could vaguely hear her speaking, but the vampire was too livid, to intent on his prey, to respond. Without a word to her, he stalked back up.
First he checked the closest loo in search of the lush. Jackpot. Spike came up behind the wanker as he pissed away some of his beer in the urinal. “Don’t tell me, mate. Let me guess. You were thinking with the wrong, little head you’re now holding when you moved in on my lady.” The bloke’s stream instantly stopped. Having heard Spike’s English accent back at the seats, he had no doubt who was standing behind him. When reality of his new situation fully sunk into the git, Spike continued, “Zip it up, or lose it, mate. And believe me, I wouldn’t mind yanking it off where you stand.” No one else in the restroom paid any attention to the pair and hurriedly left, following the unwritten rule to keep out of other people’s business in a men’s restroom. The subject of Spike’s rage took his suggestion and quickly zipped up before turning around to find himself nose to nose with the furious blonde who radiated anger and menace. He darted a look over at the exit, but Spike easily read his thoughts. “And before you try to get away, remember that if you have season tickets, which I think you do, I will find your name in the records and take pleasure hunting you down. Now, let’s walk outside and see if you can make amends.”
*****
When Spike returned to his seat, the game was already a few minutes into the third quarter. However, Beth wasn’t watching but looking around nervously until she saw him, and then shot him a fretful look. “Is everything alright? Where were you?”
“Just had to go to the restroom, luv.”
Before Beth could ask another question, a young couple stopped at the end of their row next to Spike. The young man spoke up. “This is going to sound a little crazy, but this guy just gave us two tickets and told us to use them for the rest of the game.” The man showed the tickets to Spike.
To give them room to pass down the row, Spike stood up into the aisle. “You’re in the right place, mate. You two are in those empty seats next to Beth here.”
When the girl was seated next to her, Beth asked again what had happened to them, wondering if their story would explain the crude drunk that was now gone. “It was just the weirdest thing. When we went to stretch our legs and get drinks, this stranger walked up, said he was leaving, and wanted us to use his seats. We were shocked, but since we were sitting in the nose bleed section before, we jumped at the chance for such great seats.”
“That sounds like pennies from Heaven,” Beth said before she turned around and gave Spike a knowing smile. She suspected that it was a certain platinum blonde, who helped Heaven with those pennies.
*****
Beth enjoyed the rest of the game but eagerly anticipated the end. As usual for a large, sporting event, after the final buzzer, there would be a crush of people trying to exit all at once. Knowing this, Buffy made the best of the situation and insisted they stay until the teams were leaving the court. As a result, in the midst of the mob of shifting people, Beth’s back was pressed against William’s front numerous times. Not enough for her, but she thought it would be a little obvious if she stayed that way the whole time, but she did get a bonus shot when he put his hands on her waist so they wouldn’t accidentally get separated in the crowd. Still preferring to be up against his hard chest, but Beth was becoming to appreciate his low body temperature, especially since it increased how much she could feel his touch on her warm body.
Unknowingly, Spike was thinking along the same lines. He had been reluctant to touch the beautiful temptation leaning back on him. But he would have been a lair if he said he didn’t love each brief contact against his chest. A lair if he denied how much he loved touching her, feeling her heat. To be honest, he wanted to wrap his arms around her, securing her to him and holding her as long as she would let him.
*****
Thrilled to finally arrive, Beth parked her jeep in the funeral home’s parking lot. It had been a three, excruciatingly long weeks since she was able to get away from Sunnydale and run up to Sacramento. She had talked to William yesterday afternoon so he knew she was coming, and for one of the first times in her life, including her high school and college classes, she was actually on time.
This was the first time she was to see his flat as he called it, and since he rarely talked about anything personal, she was very anxious to see where he lived. Beth figured she could learn much about him from where he lived, and the first item of note was that he lived above a funeral home. She thought the idea of sleeping over all those dead bodies would give her major wiggins, but when she entered the back door into a small foyer and went up the private stairs past the second floor landing on up to the third floor, she found that it just wasn’t that bid a deal.
Smoothing out her clothes, making sure she looked as perfect as possible, she knocked on the door, but then her nerves went from anxious to concerned when at her touch the door swung open. “Hello? William?” Hesitant to stroll in a man’s home, especially one she really didn’t know all that well yet, she only poked her head in.
“William?...It’s me, Beth.” She tentatively walked in, carefully looking around. “Hello?” The farther she entered the stronger the feeling that something was wrong increased. Her first thought was that he wasn’t home and had left the door open, but her sixth sense, that very same sense that previously kept nagging her that she knew William, also told her that he was at home. Somewhere.
Shutting the front door behind her, she started searching the rooms. To the left was a large library with books covering three of the four walls, and to the right was an entertainment room with a wide screen TV. Continuing forward, she stepped out of the entry hall into a spacious, open living room with a bank of windows to her left, and a kitchen situated in the far corner opposite the windows to her right.
As she still found no sign of William, the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach elevated. She headed over to the open door on the far wall to the side of the kitchen. Suspecting it was his bedroom, she poked her head in hesitantly. “William, are you here?”
That’s when Beth noticed the trail of blood. She had overlooked the droplets since they blended in with the dark wood flooring, but the dried blood now stood out on the light grey rug covering the floor his bedroom. William looked as if he had fallen on his bed and was now lying face down in an awkward position. William did not even move a muscle at the sound of his name. As she rushed in calling his name again, he moved his hand enough to let her know he was still alive. As she reached the bed, Beth realized that his blonde hair was caked with dried blood, and his black t-shirt was torn where she could see cuts and more blood sharply contrasting with his alabaster skin. “Oh, god, William. What happened to you?” She tentatively touched her fingertips lightly to his shoulder, which caused him to move again followed my a groan.
Feeling tears forming in her eyes, she stood back up and scolded herself for beginning to fall apart. “Ok, Beth. Act now, freak later.”
She frantically looked around, pulled open the first door, which ended up to be his closet, before finding the bathroom behind the second door. But she wasn’t surprised to find a cabinet well stocked with first aid supplies. In fact, she had to make two trips to bring everything she thought she would possibly need.
Deciding to work on his back before even attempting to roll him over, Beth cut off his shirt to survey the damage. And what impressive damage she found. While cleaning blood off with water and a wash cloth, she uncovered two knife wounds down his left side. Judging from the black and purple, elongated bruises forming on his right side and all over is back, someone had used some type of club on him, most likely a baseball bat.
Beth wiped tears from her eyes, empathizing with the pain she assumed he must be enduring, but never questioning how she could recognize a knife and bat wounds for what they were and that she knew he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital. Knowing that she should call 911, but she followed her instincts and pushed that idea aside.
After finishing his back, she tended to a long cut at the base of his skull. When finished, Beth took a minute to run her fingers through his curls and then continued when she noticed that, instead of groaning as when she cleaned the wound, his moan similar to the sounds you make when you are enjoying your favorite ice cream.
Dreading but knowing what she must do next, Beth rolled William onto his back as gently as she could manage. He gasped and balled his fists in the comforter covering his bed, but stayed unconscious. On his chest and face, she found more cuts and bruises, and if possible, the front of his body bore looked in worse shape than his back.
When finally done with the nursing, she turned her attention to his black jeans. Tight black jeans were sexy to look at, especially with him in them, but too tight for recuperation. In an attempt to make at least some of his body comfortable, she undid his belt but developed cold feet as she tugged down his zipper. So when instead of the top of boxer shorts, her fingers met curly, dark hair, she decided that just loosening the waist band would be enough. Not that she wouldn’t mind peeking, but it would be too much like molesting someone in a coma. With that thought and an eeww, she moved down to remove his boots. Now exposing socks she could handle, especially since she really didn’t care if he wore socks or not.
Finally finished, her stomach’s growling told her that it was now way past dinner time. In the kitchen, she poured herself some juice and put together a sandwich from supplies she found scattered in the refrigerator.
Drink in one hand and sandwich in the other, she wandered around the loft, inspecting William’s home, seeking out any clues to understand him better. After examining the entertainment room, she concluded that this was a man who majorly got into watching TV. But Beth supposed she would be, too, if she couldn’t go outside during the day. Looking in the library, which was on the opposite side of the entry hall, left no doubt that reading was another love. The three walls were covered by an impressive variety of books. Novels, mysteries, non-fiction, biographies, fantasies, and a surprisingly large collection of poetry books. Who would have thought that the man lying in the bedroom, covered in wounds, enjoyed sitting down and reading poems?
As she finished her sandwich, Beth strolled back into the living room and felt drawn to the large windows. Pulling the heavy drapes back and rolling up a film of dark tinting, she was instantly taken with the view. No, it wasn’t a rolling ocean or majestic mountains but just an old, nicely kept cemetery. She surmised that she was over looking at one of the oldest parts because the trees were large and full, and the tombstones were much more ornate than modern headstones. Odd as it was, she felt relaxed gazing out over the graveyard at night instead of spooked; the view was serene and entrancing all at the same time.
Beth had no idea how long she stood looking out when a low moan of pain finally broke her trance. After quickly returning her glass to the kitchen which was on her way, Beth entered the bedroom to check on her patient.
Obviously agitated, William was moving, close thrashing, and mumbling in his sleep,.
Kicking off her shoes, Buffy climbed onto the empty side of the bed to lean on her elbow on her left side, facing him. Reaching out her right hand, she ran her fingers thru his hair, gently playing with the curls and lightly scratching his scalp as she had earlier. Letting out a deep, satisfied sigh, William stilled and the slightest smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. “You big softy,” Beth thought when she finally rested her hand on his forearm lying next to her. Then while looking at his profile, she added before falling asleep, “He maybe a softy, but he is a sexy softy.”
*****
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Isis for helping me with the section I added and then couldn’t get it like I wanted it.
Thank you for all of the reviews for Chapter 1 & Chapter 2. They are so very much appreciated and helped greatly.
Thank you for all of the reviews for Chapter 1 & Chapter 2. They are so very much appreciated and helped greatly.