Love Comes to Town by Soul of the Rose

***I'm baaaack...didja miss me? Here's a spankin' new chapter just for you, Loyal Readers. Thanks for all of your requests & comments! It keeps me working on this crazy story, even when I don't wanna. *Big Loves* Rosie xoxoxox****

Chapter Forty Four ~ Jealousy

“I don’t want to look but I’m already hooked on jealousy.
I can’t believe you had a life before me.
I can’t believe they let you run around free.
Just putting your body wherever it seemed like a good idea.
What a good idea.

Imagining me behind your eyes – and what did I see?
I saw hips, I saw thighs.
I saw secret positions that we’ve never tried.
I saw jealousy. I saw jealousy.
It’s all I can do to contain my feelings of jealousy…”

~ Liz Phair

They were regrouping in the industrial district. Spike knew of an abandoned warehouse with room to hold them all and enough privacy for a proper meeting. There was sewer access if they needed a quick escape and a coupla fast food joints ‘round the corner for the humans. With any luck his stash of weapons and supplies was still there. He eyed his scorched and battered t-shirt disapprovingly. He needed a change of clothes and some Jim Beam, stat. It’d been a long night already, but it looked like an even longer day lay ahead. Not bloody likely Angel popped by for a social call - Spike smelled Apocalypse on the wind. He sighed wearily.

They still had Dawn to find and the Faith situation to manage. He knew Buffy was upset about her mates as well and would want to make it right - though he’d just as soon let ‘em hang. Red was alright and he liked Anya and Tara well enough, but the Whelp and Watcher he could do without just fine.

He shifted himself to a more comfortable position, moving his leg further away from Gunn’s. He had offered to walk and save room in the crowded car but Buffy wouldn’t hear of it. Wish she would have let him, give him a moment to sort this whole mess out and come up with a plan of action. So much to do now, and he had a feeling time was running out. All he needed was a pint or two of O-neg and a good day’s rest, but let her fuss. Truth was he was actually enjoying it - particularly with Angel watching and glowering with jealous disapproval every moment. If he weren’t already inclined to kiss and cuddle his Slayer to bits he would’ve made the extra effort just to see that look on the Poof’s face.

*Bloody priceless.*

Buffy sat with her head cradled on his chest in the back seat, leg slung over his lap, arms tight around him as if afraid to let go. He could feel Angel’s eyes boring into him from the rearview. He may not be able to see the reflection, but he could feel them like hot pinpricks.

*If looks could kill, Peaches.*

He smirked and kissed the top of his girl’s golden head.

*That’s right, Angel – MY girl. Better get used to it you daft prick.*

He had a moment to wonder just what Angel was seeing; Buffy wrapped around an invisible man, snuggled up tight to nothing…

*Probably just enough to make him crazy.*

Spike grinned at the thought. He began thinking of ways to add to his torture; what if he stroked her back a bit more so her clothes moved as well?

*Let him wonder where my hands are…*

The thought made him want to snicker madly. After all the years that brooding bastard had tormented him, made him feel less than shite – Spike couldn’t help enjoying the opportunity to give a little back. Buffy interrupted his thoughts of gleeful torment;

“Never leave me, kay?”

She murmured into his chest.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Kitten.”

He replied softly settling her closer. Suddenly Angel didn’t seem quite so important. The competition between them appeared so terribly small and petty compared to the precious package he held in his arms. He had Buffy, he had her love - all he had wanted, dreamed of for so long. What else mattered?

*Only her – as always.*

He sighed and closed his eyes, ignoring the invisible glares of the other vampire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia eyed the cozy couple from the confines of the passenger seat.

*Weird.*

Though not all that surprising in a way. Little Miss Stakes-A-Lot always did have a thing for the fists-and-fangs type. Not to mention a man in black leather…but then again who didn’t like that? Her eyes slid over to Angel, surreptitiously admiring the cut of his Armani trench coat. You had to give the man credit, for a depressive he had excellent taste.

*A little too much black though.*

You’d think he’d throw in a touch of bright red or maybe a flash of purple every now and again just to shake things up. But no, that would be far too derivative from his Trent-Reznor-is-my-soulmate persona. She sighed and leaned her head on the cool glass of the window, inching marginally away from Fred on the seat. The sky was only just beginning to lighten the farthest edge of the horizon.

It was going to be a really long day.

She could just tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The longer Faith sat and thought and smoked the more her guts boiled.
Why was she the one hiding out? She didn’t do anything wrong! She wasn’t the fucked up one. She wasn’t the liar here. The backstabber.

*The whore.*

She thought venomously. She paced the short walk in front of their dingy motel, chain smoking and watching cars whiz by on the interstate. They were all going somewhere. But all night she sat here; stuck inside that lousy room, staring sightlessly at the TV, the wall, the cracked and yellowed popcorn ceiling. She never slept. Just let her mind fixate on and replay every conversation, every look, every touch. She tried to find the moment that Spike stopped loving her. The moment his heart went to Buffy.

*That bitch.*

But it all bled together like watercolors. She couldn’t find anything ‘cept memories that made her cry, made her long for him and miss him so bad it was like a dull ache in her gut. The kind you get after somebody kicks you in the stomach. The kind that leaves you hurting and hollow for hours after.

She kept her tears from Dawn. Grateful when her sister passed out at last, crashed out from an all day sugar high. Then she let ‘em come, thinkin’ about every time they ever kissed and how he always took her hand no matter where they were. Spike never acted like he was ashamed of her, or like he didn’t wanna be seen with her. And he never made her feel like he wanted her to be different, to change. He was the only guy that ever made her feel like she was okay just like she was, like he liked her that way.

And it was good. All of it was good. They never fought - not each other anyway. She smirked thinking ‘bout the million and one vamps they dusted together. They just kicked ass, laughed, and fucked. He even took a shine to her little sister. Anybody could see he was crazy about the kid, just like she was. She stopped her pacing to steal a look at Dawn, sprawled diagonally across their double bed, mouth wide and snoring ungraciously. Her heart swelled a little just looking at her. How could you not love that kid?

Faith loved Dawn with everything that she was. It never mattered to her if her memories were real or manufactured. Dawn was part of her, her very own blood ran in her veins. Wherever she came from Dawn belonged to her now - they belonged to each other. And she’d be goddamned if she was gonna let anyone take her away.

*Never!*

She thought fiercely. She threw her cigarette stub to the ground and stomped on it. In her mind there was a little blonde head underneath the heavy tread of her biker boots. She’d love nothing more than to smash Buffy’s skull like a grape and watch it pop. The mental image that produced made her grin for the first time all night.

Man, if she could only show Spike what a fake-ass little bitch Buffy really was. She just laid on her Little Miss Perfect act and he bought it, hook and all. How could he be so smart and so goddamn dumb at the same time?

*Typical guy – thinkin’ with his dick.*

She grimaced at the instant visual she got of Buffy leading him around by it, Spike grinning moronically the whole time. Before she could stop it the scene changed into something sexual, Buffy and Spike a tangle of limbs on the ground. She’d already seen the live show. More than she ever wanted to and far too much to ever forget. Her brain was a tricky thing, when it wasn’t playing her painful memories of her and Spike it was dishing out detailed scenarios of him and Buffy – both real and imagined. How considerately he had laid his coat down for her. How lovingly he had touched her – with tenderness, with reverence. A far cry from the primal coupling they shared the first time, cracking tombstones on the way to an empty crypt. Throwing each other against walls and sarcophagi, ending with a brutal fuck on the cold stone floor.

She couldn’t help but imagine how their first time was, all roses and candlelight. Was it at his place? In his bed? Or would he spring for a classy joint downtown? Would he take her out first? Romance her over a pricey meal? In Faith’s mind it was everything but a honeymoon. She could picture it perfectly; the white satin sheets, the rose petals on the bed, the loving looks they would share.

“Uhg!”

She ground her fist into her eyes, trying to stop the unwanted visuals.

“Why am I torturing myself?”

Why was she? When there was someone else who actually deserved it? Someone who lied and cheated and stole things that didn’t belong to her. A little blonde princess that fooled everyone into thinking she was perfect.

*Enough of this sittin’ around shit!*

She never was much for the run-and-hide. Action always suited her better. Time to take some. Far as she could see, Buffy was the cause of all her problems. And she knew how to take care of problems didn’t she?

Faith smiled nastily, a feral grin in the moonlight.
Had any vampires been present they would have run for their lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A round of burgers and an hour’s rest found them all slightly refreshed and able to focus enough to have a brief summit. They improvised a small semi-circle of crates and boxes in a corner of the large storehouse. Wesley took the floor in full Watcher mode, starting off the meeting. Buffy found herself impressed, this was a far cry from the stumbling idiot she’d first met. It seemed Wes had finally found his footing. He turned the floor over to Cordelia after a brief introduction and let her describe her vision, and therefore the Angel Team’s presence in Sunnydale. Spike and Buffy exchanged a weary look.

Just one more thing to deal with on a very long list; Dawn, Faith, disgruntled friends and family, not to mention a Hell God with a vendetta and a bad home perm. Buffy rubbed her tired eyes and took a deep breath. She was surprised to find she hadn’t given her dream, or the Apocalypse it implied, very much thought lately. No more bad dreams either - just like all of her other thoughts they were now filled almost entirely with

“Spike.”

She whispered it softly, reaching for him. He turned a sweet smile her way and squeezed her hand in his. Whatever happened they had each other. He would fight by her side against whatever Hell managed to send their way. She had a feeling it wouldn’t have much of a chance against the two of them, they made a formidable team. And with Angel and his crew here, well…somehow she wasn’t as worried about the impending Apocalypse as she was about finding Dawn. She tuned in to hear Wes explaining the plan to take on Glory.

“Small problem with the whole double-team of Slayers thing, Guys.” She interrupted. “Faith is MIA again.”

“What?!” Angel looked exasperated. “Where the hell did she go this time?”

“We don’t know.”

Buffy and Spike exchanged an inscrutable look. They’d have to confer later about how much to tell. Some things were family business and Angel wasn’t family anymore.

“Doesn’t Giles know?” Angel asked testily. “He’s her Watcher.”

“Yeah, well we all know how much Faith likes to share with her Watcher.”

Buffy gave Wesley a sympathetic look.

“Too true.” He smiled.

So the girl hadn’t become any more manageable. It gave him a bit of comfort, and increased his respect for Rupert Giles all the more.

*If anyone could handle that child at all…*

“Looks like priority one is finding the other Slayer.” Gunn put in.

“Agreed.” Wesley nodded. “We’ll need both Slayers at full capacity for the upcoming battle.”

“She could be anywhere by now.” Angel threw up his hands. “Last time she was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras!” He growled, remembering the last minute scramble to find the Slayer before Apocalypse number 4 hit last year.

“Spike and I have some leads.” Buffy suggested. “Why don’t you let us find her while you guys start the prep work.”

Angel didn’t like the secretive look he saw pass between them. She never used to keep secrets from him. Time was he knew all that was in her heart. It was a bitter pill to swallow that she was closed off to him now - made even more so that she chose to share herself with Spike. He couldn’t help imagining just what kind of sharing they’d been doing – he could smell Spike all over her. Not an enormous leap to fill in those blanks. And how many times had he seen the boy in action? They’d shared both Drusilla and Darla, and had been in a million compromising positions together over a century. It was all too easy to imagine him doing those things to Buffy – “Servicing her,” as Spike liked to say. That boy always did have an odd oral fixation…

The thought made him ill. He knew what a manipulator Spike was. What had he done to get to her? To turn her to him? Probably took advantage of Buffy while she was dealing with her problems with Riley. He could only imagine the kind of troubles that would lead Finn into black magic. If only he had known, he would have come. He could have helped her, been there for her. He would be comforting her now…but Spike was in his way.

*Again.*

He eyed the other vampire with distaste, brow furrowing. He hadn’t liked the boy from the moment Drusilla brought him home. Far too cocksure and full of swagger, always dragging the group into some kind of scuffle. He was mouthy and insolent from the start, never knew his proper place. Spike refused to be broken of his arrogance no matter how many beatings or buggerings Angel dealt him. And his weakness with Drusilla – always doting on her and catering to her every mad whim.

*Love’s Bitch indeed.*

He grimaced sourly. The boy wasn’t worthy of Buffy - her strength, her courage, that lion’s heart. She was a true champion, and what was Spike next to that? He didn’t even have a soul! How can he love her without a soul??

*He can’t. He doesn’t.*

This thing between them was nothing real, some kind of bizarre rebound fling. Nothing like the true and genuine love he shared with Buffy.

Angel had tried to step back, to let her have the normal life she deserved. But look how that turned out… He should have known that schoolboy was no match for her. And Spike! It was monstrous he be allowed to lay hands on her, he was little more than a fledgeling - in no way deserving of a girl like Buffy.

Angel knew in his heart that she belonged with another champion. Someone who would fight by her side, love her and protect her. Someone capable of loving her with all his soul, the way she deserved to be loved.

And if she was to love a vampire…

*Then let it be me.*

***Ooooooo, that doesn't sound good. I sense a smackdown comin'...Stay tuned, True Believers...***