Angel didn't leave, but then again, Spike hadn't really been expecting him to. "I want you to stay away from Nancy."
"Done," Spike replied with a shrug. "I really don't care one way or another about your bird, Angelus. This isn't some elaborate scheme to kill her in her sleep. Not my style anyway, and you know it."
"For all I know, your style has changed, Spike," Angel replied, obviously not believing Spike when he claimed he wouldn't go after the Slayer again. "Look, I don't know what game you're trying to play here with that girl, but…"
Spike slammed the trunk of his car one-handed, his other arm carting the small box Howard's journals were in. "No games. I doubt I want to be here anymore than you want me here, but Buffy needed to see the Watcher, so here we are."
"So I'm honestly supposed to believe that you're here to help this Buffy girl? Come on, Spike. A couple of weeks ago you were completely set on killing Nancy and drooling all over Drusilla."
Spike turned and leveled his eyes with Angel, despite their difference in height. "A couple of weeks ago, so were you."
A flash of guilt went over Angel's features at Spike's pointed comment, and Spike was glad to see it. "That's different. I have a soul," Angel argued.
"And you really believe it makes you a different man?" Spike asked, head cocked slightly to the side.
"It makes me a better man than you."
"Maybe it does and maybe it doesn't. I didn't come here to debate the issue with you. I came here because my mate needs me. And don't think for a second that I've forgotten what you did to her, what you planned to do to her. The only reason I'm not killing you right now is because it would piss off Nancy, and Buffy doesn't need to have to deal with that. She's got more important things to worry about."
Angel snorted. "Like you even could."
Spike used every ounce of control he had not to let Angel bait him. Control had never been his strong suit, he knew, but he could use it when the situation called for it. He wouldn't have been able to make it through the last century otherwise. "As enjoyable as it would be to make you suffer, I didn't come here to fight you. You want me to stay away from the Slayer, fine. I already told you I would. But the both of you have to stay away from me and mine, too. Buffy and I aren't staying. She'll get the help she needs from the Watcher, and then we're gone."
"I can't allow even that much, Spike," Angel snapped. "I can't let you stay here and feed in my town."
At that, Spike had to laugh. "Oh come on. You've done plenty of feeding here yourself. Just because Nancy's little witch friend shoved a soul back up your arse doesn't undo any of that." Spike shrugged. "Besides, I'm off the live ones anyway. The missus doesn't like it."
"You can't honestly expect me to believe you've stopped feeding."
"I don't care what you believe. Now scamper off and go back to making googly eyes at your girlfriend, or whatever it is the two of you do. I've got to get back inside."
"I'm going to be watching you, Spike," Angel said, doing his best to sound menacing.
Spike was far from intimidated. "I am awfully difficult to tear your eyes away from, aren't I?" Spike's expression became mockingly-serious, and he put his hand on Angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there won't be a repeat of that time in Venice. I'm a mated vamp now."
At the look of shock and possibly something kin to embarrassment that broke out over Angel's face, Spike laughed and headed back up the walk to the house.
Spike knew something had occurred in the living room as soon as he walked in, but he decided to ask Buffy about it in private. Instead, he handed the journals over to the Watcher. "Here's what we have."
"They were still back at my old apartment, hidden in a wall," Buffy explained. "I don't know if Howard kept more than those, but I couldn't find any more."
"This is fine," Giles replied, glancing warily at Spike as he took the box. "Thank you for allowing me to read them, Buffy."
"You're really more doing me the favor," Buffy replied. "I want to know if there's anything else helpful in them, but after reading those couple of entries, I couldn't really stomach anymore."
"I'll read them for us both then," Giles told her softly.
"Thank you."
After an awkward pause, Giles cleared his throat. "Would you like for me to go ahead and set up the basement for you?"
Buffy nodded. "We'd appreciate that. Thank you."
Giles responded with a small smile and another wary glance at Spike before he got up from the chair.
"Tell me what happened when I left the house, luv?" Spike prodded gently once he and Buffy were alone and in bed.
Buffy sighed. "Nothing too exciting, really. Nancy said if the Council killed my mother she probably deserved it, Giles flipped on her, and then afterwards he told me this wasn't the sort of life my mother would want from me, like I so don't already know that, and well…just fun all the way around."
Spike tightened his grip around Buffy, trying to rein in his anger at Nancy and her Watcher, too, for that matter, despite the fact that the night had already made the little bit of patience he had to his name wear thin. "They're both wrong, sweetheart. Nancy is a self-righteous bitch who's as bad as her git of a boyfriend, and as for what the Watcher said… Joyce would want you to be loved, kitten. To be happy. And maybe I wouldn't have been her first choice for you, but I love you, and I'd never intentionally hurt you again. And…and you're happy, aren't you, Buffy? At least a little bit?"
Buffy looked up at his face, able to make out the vulnerability etched into his features in the dim light of the basement. "I'm happy, Spike. As happy as I've ever been, anyway."
Spike kissed her temple, his eyes closing for a moment as he relished the feel of her before he opened them and spoke again. "I think Joyce would've understood. It might have taken her some time, but… I don't think she would've been disappointed in you, Buffy."
"I've thought about that. A lot. It worries me, what my mother would think if she could see me now."
"She'd think that she has a wonderful, strong daughter, who grew up to be everything she'd taught her to be. And that she's damn lucky to have found herself such a good-looking man."
Buffy chuckled despite the tears in her eyes, and Spike smiled, glad he could make her laugh. "I won't make you do something your mother would be ashamed of you for, pet. I won't turn you into something you'd hate."
Buffy searched his face for a moment, her expression serious. "You really wouldn't, would you?"
"Never. I love you for who you are. I was a little slow to catch on, but… I won't make you change, luv."
She kissed him, meaning for it to be tender, but as their kisses always seemed to do, it heated up quickly. Buffy soon felt his erection hard and needy against her, pressing between her thighs and pushing up the hem of his t-shirt she'd worn to bed, too self-conscious to sleep naked like him in someone else's house.
"Spike…we shouldn't…" she panted, even as she rubbed herself against him. "Giles might hear. Or…or Nancy."
"I'll make sure you're quiet," Spike replied. He turned them over so Buffy was beneath him and placed his hand firmly over her mouth, stifling any cries she could make.
Buffy whimpered into his palm as Spike thrust inside of her. She felt trapped beneath him, with his hard body pushing her into the cot and his hand clamped so forcefully over her mouth. Even with the extra strength the claim had allowed her, she was weaker than him. He had her completely at his mercy.
And it didn't scare her at all.
The words Spike had spoken to her only a few minutes earlier came back to her mind. I'd never intentionally hurt you again… He wouldn't. Something about seeing Angel again had solidified that for her. Even with his soul returned, the other vampire still set her nerves on edge. Somehow, she knew it was more than the fact that she knew Spike well and Angel was a virtual stranger, aside from when he'd held her captive. And it went beyond the claim as well. There was something inside of Spike that wasn't in Angel, a spark unconnected to the soul. She could see it in the difference in their eyes. With Spike, it was so easy to forget she was looking at a dead man just from the twinkle in those crystal blue orbs.
Spike slowed down above her, looking at her with concern, and Buffy realize her thoughts must've distracted her more than she'd realized. She winked at him, then bit down lightly on the inside of his hand, letting him know she was there with him again. Spike grinned, and his pace picked back up, driving from her mind any thoughts other than how good it felt to be with him.
She came with a muffled scream into his hand, her body shaking against his. Spike began to thrust harder, the movement of his hips no longer measured as he desperately sought his own release. He thought for a moment that he should probably be more aware of the fact the cot they were on may not be the sturdiest before he was coming, his teeth slicing into his lip as he fought to keep himself quiet as well.
The basement silent except for the sound of their harsh, uneven breathing, Spike rolled them over, pulling Buffy tightly against his chest as he did. She brought her head up just enough to kiss him, tasting the blood he'd drawn from his lip and sighing with pleasure into his mouth.
The situation they were facing still worried her, but less so for the moment as Buffy allowed herself to feel pleasantly sated. The nearness of his body and the tingle she still felt between her legs were a comfort, and Buffy was grateful that if she was going to have to have to make an enemy like the Council of Watchers, at least she had Spike at her side.
"I'm glad I have you."
Her whispered confession was so soft that Spike wasn't sure he'd heard it, even with his acute hearing. "What's that, pet?"
"I'm glad I have you," Buffy replied, louder—braver—this time. "It wasn't an ideal start for either of us, I know, but, this is good. It's starting to make sense to me in some weird sort of way. I'd never thought of myself as being in a relationship before, and a lot of that was because I didn't know who I could possibly share my life with. I'm not a Slayer, but I'm still not like other girls. I never gossiped on the phone for hours or wandered the mall looking for the hottest new styles. I was more focused on weapons training and battle tactics. Even when I bothered to go to school, I never had any friends, never connected with any of the other kids. Their lives, their world, it never made sense to me. I guess I got so caught up in my mother's that it just became mine, too."
Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, it was more than that. My whole life, I've known what's really out there, and I couldn't ignore it. When I was fourteen years old, Howard got so upset with me because I got myself hurt by saving a girl in an alley from a vampire. But I hadn't been able to walk away. I saw it happening, and I knew in that moment that I had an advantage the girl didn't—I knew the nightmare she was facing was real, and I knew how to fight it. And even if I'd died that night, or any of the other nights I went searching for a vampire to face, at least I'd be doing my part. I'd be doing what was right. Simply by knowing vampires and demons are real gives me a responsibility to fight them.
"But being with you, it doesn't take me away from that life. And it doesn't pull you into it, either, since you were already a part of it before. I can't even begin to imagine how I'd explain to a normal human guy this situation with the Council, and I know he wouldn't be able to have my back the way you do. When I think about it that way, you being what you are is sorta comforting." Buffy frowned. "Just as long as you don't go back eating people again, because that complicates the whole thing right up."
Spike pressed a kiss into her hair. "I'm not going to. That would hurt you, and I won't do it. I don't care how hard it is for me, I won't." Spike paused for a moment, thinking about some of the other things she'd said. "You're going to want me to start killing my own kind with you, aren't you?"
Buffy squirmed against him. "The thought had crossed my mind."
"I'm not sure how I feel about it, Buffy," Spike answered honestly.
Buffy rolled over on top of him and looked down at his face, a mischievous glint to her features. "Think about it, baby. You, me—mayhem and destruction. Could be fun."
Spike's eyebrow arched. His girl knew him, all right. And knew how to sell him on an idea, too. "I'll think about it, kitten."
She gave him a quick peck on the lips before she rolled over and nestled herself against his side again. "Bet it'd be hot."
The knowledge that Buffy was turned on by the idea of fighting by his side almost made Spike say to hell with all other vampires and drag her out to the nearest graveyard right then. But becoming a complete turncoat to his kind was something he knew he should give a little more thought to. "We'll talk about it later, luv."
"Okay," Buffy said, her eyes closed and her tone indicating to Spike that she was already convinced as to what his answer would be. "Good night, Spike."
"I'm serious about the whole thinking about it thing, pet."
"I know, honey. Go to sleep."
Spike growled softly in his chest. She'd be a right irritating chit sometimes if she weren't so bloody cute… "Good night, luv."
"Night, Spike."
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