~*~
Buffy was staring—no, make that gaping—at him. He was a Slayer. Mysterious helper-guy was a Slayer. As in, the Chosen One—except he was a guy, and she was supposed to be the Chosen One!
This was so not fair...
Spike was staring at the tiny girl in front of him. How—what the bloody hell had just happened? His Slayer senses were still going insane, but now he could tell the subtle differences between her signature and the one that screamed vampire. His senses weren’t warning him that an enemy was near—they were clamoring in welcome.
“You’re a sodding Slayer,” he said, and though he’d meant for it to come out as a question, it ended up sounding more like an accusation.
Buffy’s hands balled into fists. “Your point being?” she said in a dangerous voice, her eyes narrowing. This guy might be a Slayer, but she’d be willing to bet she could take him...or at least try.
“M’ point being, you’ve got a slight case of being a girl,” he snapped. “An’ last time I checked, the Slayer was male. Me.”
Buffy took a deep breath. Okay. Calm down. There is probably some rational non-Hellmouthy reason why some guy is talking to me and claiming that I’m not supposed to exist because I’m a girl. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting for control—and then punched him in the nose.
“’ey! You bloody bitch!” he yelped, clutching his face. “See, this is why girls aren’t Slayers. You’re too damn moody!”
OK. That was it. “You’re trying to tell me that I’m not a Slayer?” she demanded. “I just rammed wood through a big red monster thingy!”
“Humans can do that,” he informed her, smirking past his swollen nose.
“Oh yeah?” Buffy said, advancing on him in what she knew was a dangerous manner. “So, bleach-boy, can humans do this?” She leapt forward, kicking him in the chest, putting her full Slayer strength behind the kick. He flew into the air; Buffy watched with satisfaction as he yelled futile threats at her before landing in a heap next to a tombstone.
Her satisfaction faded when he stood up. Holy crap, he looked pissed off. All of a sudden she was a whole lot less sure about her ability to take him in a fight.
Spike had passed the point where he was just pissed off—that kick had made him so angry he was starting to understand that there was a literal meaning behind “seeing red”. “You stupid bint,” he growled, advancing on her. “I oughta kill you for that.”
She rolled her eyes, sticking out her hips in a manner that all of a sudden made it very obvious that she was a tiny, delicate girl. A girl with the strength of ten men.
A girl who, he realized as she opened her plump lips to speak, was one damn hot little piece, especially with her hair all silvery in the moonlight and her clothes all rumpled from the fight…Spike shook himself. Come off it, mate. Crazy girl sayin’ she’s a Slayer, remember?
“Kill me?” she snapped, her green eyes flashing. “Please. I could so kick your sorry ass!”
Too bad she was a complete bitch.
“Is that what you think, Blondie?” Spike asked, advancing on her. “You think ‘d let you put your little hands all over my hot bod?”
“My fists,” she corrected. “And sorry, but I’d do as little touching of your hot bod as possible.”
He affected a hurt look, putting his hand over his heart. “Now that hurt, Slayer,” he said mockingly.
“See?” she said triumphantly. “I kicked you, and now you’re calling me Slayer. We’re making progress.”
Damn. He had, hadn’t he? Spike was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was a girl, and a Slayer, and standing right in front of him. When he got his hand on ol’ Rupes…
“Doesn’t mean I think you are one,” he retorted, smirking, trying to ignore how badly he wanted to walk forward a bit more and touch her. “I just don’t know your name, is all.”
She pursed her lips. “Yeah, well, if you think I’m telling you, you are so off your meds,” she informed him.
Spike rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Look, ‘f you’re a Slayer, you have a Watcher, right? So take me to ‘im.”
“Yeah, well, if you’re a Slayer, you should have one, too,” she retorted. “So why don’t you take me to her?”
Her? “Don’t think Rupes would like being called a girl, pet,” he said, grinning inwardly.
“Yeah, well, Jenny wouldn’t like being called a—“
“Wait! Stop! William!”
“Buffy! Hold on! Don’t hit him!”
Buffy blinked. Jenny was racing through the graveyard at top speed, dodging tombstones and gasping for breath, and on the other side of the cemetery, a man in tweed was doing the same. Buffy sent a quizzical glance toward the Slayer-guy. “Your Watcher?” she asked, nodding to the Wesley-esque man. The guy—William?—nodded. “An lemme guess,” he said, nodding at Jenny, who’d just screeched to a halt at Buffy’s side. “That bird there ‘s yours?”
“Um, yeah,” Buffy said. “What are you doing here, Jenny?”
“I need to tell you,” Jenny gasped. “Wiliam—he’s a Slayer. Slayers can be—“
“Bleached blonde, obnoxious and male?” Buffy snapped, not bothering to hide her state of extreme pissed-offedness. “Yeah, I’d kind of noticed. And I want an explanation. Now.”
“Well, you’ll get one, just as soon as we—can breathe.”
Buffy glanced over at William. Tweed-guy had caught up to them and was copying Jenny’s exhausted pose. He extended a hand to Buffy’s Watcher. “Rupert Giles. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Jenny Calendar,” Jenny said, nodding but not bothering to take the hand. “Likewise.”
“Finally?” Buffy exclaimed, at the same time as Spike said, “You mean you were plannin’ this?”
“William, all will be explained in due time,” Giles said, waving a hand. “Please, just calm down. Introduce yourself to Buffy—knowing you, you haven’t bothered yet.”
Spike smirked. Trust a chit like that to have an idiot’s name. “’lo,” he said, nodding to her. “Name’s Spike. ‘m a vampire slayer.” He added the last part just to taunt her.
She raised an eyebrow. “Spike?” she said, in the same tone most people would’ve said horse shit. “I thought your name was William.”
“That’s only what Rupes calls me. You call me that, an’ I’ll rip you into little bits, got it?”
“Hello, Slayer here. If there’s any ripping into little bits, it’ll be done by me.”
What is just her, or was he leering? His tongue was all curled behind it teeth…and it was not sexy, Buffy decided firmly. “You’re forgettin’, luv, that I’m a Slayer, too.”
“No, I’m not,” Buffy retorted. “But you’re in no way ever going to get close enough to me to touch me.”
He stepped closer. Dammit. She couldn’t pick a fight in front of the adults! And now he was close enough that he was looking down on her, too, and she felt about as tall as a bug with his eyes on her. “You mean, like this?” he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.
Screw the adults. Buffy flipped him onto the ground and placing her heel as his throat. “Yeah, like that,” she said coldly, before smiling and saying, “By the way, I never introduced myself. I’m Buffy—the Vampire Slayer.”
*
She was tiny. There was no denying that. But damned if she wasn’t just as strong and maybe quicker than he was.
And apparently even less patient. Spike watched Buffy closely as she alternated between tapping her foot and sighing impatiently. The adults had dragged their respective extremely reluctant Slayers to the library after Buffy’s little display and had sternly admonished them to stay put. That had been twenty minutes ago.
“I say—who is the young man?”
Spike damn near jumped out of his skin. A tweed-clad man who looked rather a lot like a younger Giles was standing in front of him, peering at him closely.
“His name is Spike.” Buffy sounded incredibly scornful. “He claims he’s a Slayer.”
Spike felt a growl rumble in his throat. “I am a Slayer.”
“Are you really?” Now the man was polishing his glasses. “How very curious. I had no idea that there was a male sect of the Slayer line!”
“That’s because the Watcher’s Council kicked you out, Wesley,” Buffy reminded him coldly. “Apparently, every real Watched on the face of the planet knew about it.”
Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who was a little pissed off that they’d been left out of the bloody loop. “An’ yet they didn’t bother to tell us,” he grumbled. “Stupid buggers.”
“You know, it’s kind of scary how much I agree with that,” Buffy said, before letting out yet another impatient sigh. “God! What are they doing, boinking in the supply room?”
Wesley blinked. “I say, Miss Summers, isn’t that a bit untoward?”
She just sneered at him. Spike grinned and said mockingly, “I say, Wesley, shouldn’t you be up there in your dusty piles of books?”
Wesley pursed his lips. “Given that Miss Summers uses the library as her headquarters, I have every right to inquire after her well-being—“
“But not my behavior,” Buffy interrupted, glaring at him.
“What the blonde bird said,” Spike said, not bothering to spare the “blonde bird” a glance. “So sod off, mate.”
Wesley drew himself up. “I will not permit a guest in my library to—“
Spike stood up. It was all he did, but he was deliberately trying to look very menacing and Slayer-like—and apparently it worked, because the man’s eyes widened.
“Ah, right then,” he all but squeaked. “I’ll just be—up there.” And he ran up the stairs and disappeared into the stacks.
“Um—thanks,” Buffy said awkwardly.
“Any time, Slayer.”
“Would you stop calling me that?” Buffy snapped. “I have a name, you know!”
He probably should have apologized, but making her mad was too much fun—he wasn’t the type of bloke to resist it. “Yeah, a right dumb one,” he replied. “An’ anyway, ‘f I don’t call you that, I’m liable to forget it.”
“Augh! You stupid, self-centered, stuck up sonofa—“
“Hey, guys, how’re you doing? Getting all Slayerey with each other?”
Jenny and Giles entered the library at what Spike privately thought was a rather inconvenient time—he got the feeling he and the other Slayer had been about to fight. Trust Giles to deny a fellow a spot of violence, he thought, stretching languorously. “We’ve been honing our skills,” he said with a grin.
“They were arguing!” Wesley piped up from his station deep in the stacks.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “It was productive arguing,” she told Jenny.
“And here I thought arguing was meant to be a means in itself,” Giles said, sitting down. “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Miss Summers.”
“Um, yeah. Likewise.”
She was pretty when she blushed, Spike noticed.
“So, you’re both probably pretty confused,” Jenny said, looking from one Slayer to the other.
“Um, yeah!” The embarrassed flush in Buffy’s face was replaced with an angry one. “It’s not everyday you run into a bleached idiot—“
“’ey!”
“—who claims to be a Slayer!” Buffy finished, ignoring her fellow Slayer’s indignation. “What the hell is up with that, Jenny?”
Jenny sighed. “Originally, only females—girls, really—could be Slayers.”
“Ha!” Buffy said triumphantly. Take that, you bleached doofus!
“However,” Giles interrupted, throwing a quelling glance at his Slayer before he could say anything rash in response, “About a thousand years ago, that changed. I suppose you both have heard of King Arthur?”
Spike gave him a look. “Everyone’s heard of King Arthur.”
Giles cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Perhaps we could do this tomorrow?”
“Or perhaps you could explain now before I make with the disembowelment!” Buffy hadn’t raised her voice, but her tone was threatening enough.
“Um, Buffy? Am I interrupting anything?”
Spike stopped contemplating the lovely blush tinting the girl Slayer’s cheeks. At the entrance to the library stood a woman who looked to be about Giles’s age.
Buffy colored even more. “Why didn’t you tell me my mom was going to come?” she hissed at Jenny.
“Because I didn’t know!” Jenny whispered back. “If I had I would’ve stuck you in a closet or something!”
Spike grinned at the exchange before turning back to the woman. “So, you’re Mrs. Summers, then?” he asked, getting to his feet and ignoring Buffy’s gasp. “’m Spike, the Vampire Slayer. Nice to meet you.”
Joyce frowned at him, clearly puzzled. “I’m sorry—I thought Buffy was the Slayer. You didn’t die again, did you, honey?”
Buffy sighed impatiently. “No, mom, I managed to stay in the realm of the living. It’s complicated.”
“Oh.” Joyce frowned for a second before shaking her head slightly and saying, “Well, all the same, it’s a pleasure to meet you—er—Spike. Are you in town long?”
Spike shrugged. “You’ll have to ask m’ Watcher,” he said. “But ‘f I have my way we’ll be out of that fleabag motel we’re staying in soon enough.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re staying in the motel by the highway!” Joyce exclaimed in dismay.
“It’s quite all right, we’re accustomed to—what was that?” Giles bent his head to hear what Jenny was whispering in his ear frantically. He gave her a speculative look before saying, “Mrs. Summers—“
“Call me Joyce.”
“Right. Joyce, Jenny has just had a rather interesting idea. If you don’t mind a boarder, could you take Spike on for a few days? It would be lovely if he and Buffy could get better acquainted, I believe they’re both having difficulty accepting that the other is a Slayer.”
“I’d love to!” Joyce said, smiling. “Our home is always open to guests. Buffy, honey, you don’t mind, do you?”
Buffy scowled. Her mom was wearing that look that said if Buffy protested, she’d be in for a world of pain. “No,” she ground out.
“It’s settled, then!” Jenny grinned. “Spike can stay with Buffy, and Rupert will crash at my house.”
“Wonderful!” Giles said, smiling just as much as Jenny was. “Well, it’s late. I suppose we’d better finish this in the morning.”
Buffy narrowed her eyes at Jenny. “You haven’t gotten out of explaining why the Council of Bastards didn’t tell us there were two Slayers,” she said darkly.
Jenny just grinned wider. “I know. Joyce, can you swing by the motel and pick up Spike’s bags?”
“I’d be delighted.” Joyce smiled back at Jenny, which made Buffy’s scowl deepened. All three adults looked way too happy. Why did she get the feeling that there was more to this than just her getting used to Spike?
“See you in the morning, then!” Giles said.
“See you, Rupes.”
Buffy looked at Spike suspiciously: he was smiling too. What was this, a conspiracy? Was Ashton Kutcher going to pop out and say she’d been punk’d? Although she doubted Ashton knew about Slayers. That is, unless he is one, she groused. God, this night was turning out to suck so bad...
Suddenly she realized that everyone was staring at her, apparently expecting her to make some kind of happy hospitable remark. Instead she just snapped, “Whatever. Can we go now?”
Spike stepped back, still closely resembling a Cheshire Cat. “After you, Slayer,” he said with what Buffy was beginning to think was his trademark smirk.
Buffy stuck her nose in the air and flounced off after her mother. Spike caught Giles’s gaze long enough to wink before following the blonde girl out of the library, his eyes firmly affixed to her wriggling little ass.
This should be fun.
~*~
A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews I got for the first chapter! This story will probably be updated a bit slower than my other one because I have more of Nothing More written out, but updates will definitely come.
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