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Buffy jumped up, her eyes lightening to cold silver as she growled. With a burst of preternatural speed, Cecily was pinned against the wall, one tiny hand clamped around her throat. Looking down into the face of the vampire, she shrieked, the volume of her captor’s growl increasing as she winced. Spike leaped to the rescue, pulling the startled girl gently away from his whimpering girlfriend.

Cecily immediately flew into his arms, cooing praises and laying into him for taking so long by turns. The high-pitched tirade made a now human-looking Buffy clap her hands over sensitive ears, her eyes squeezing shut in an effort to block out the noises. When she reopened them, it was to find the Slayer with one pale hand clamped over his face, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Cecily stared down her nose at the thin, shorter woman, giving a derisive sniff. Seeing the anger flicker in the stranger’s green eyes, she smirked and wound a possessive hand around her boyfriend’s waist, pressing herself against him as she sneered triumphantly at the vampire, her pretty face twisted by malice.

“Spikey, why is that… thing in here? And why haven’t you staked it yet?”

Just as Spike started to explain, Buffy spoke up, her soft voice burning with menace. “I’m not a ‘thing’. I’m a vampire. Thought you would’ve known that by now, with a Slayer as a boyfriend and all. Or does all that bleach damage your brain cells, princess? And I’m in here because I was invited, which is more than I can say for you.”

Cecily flushed, one hand shooting up to stroke her blonde curls defensively. Her fine brows snapped down into a dark frown as she reached up and placed a loud kiss on Spike’s cheekbone. For a moment the vampire stared at the spot, a dreamy glaze over her eyes. Oh yeah, those cheekbones…

The Slayer, finally in control of his mirth, cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Buffy, this is Cecily Adams, my girlfriend. Cecily, this is Buffy Summers. She used to be a Slayer, but she was turned. Means she kept ‘er soul, pet, which is why she’s ‘ere.”

Remembering the scene when she first arrived for the planned Scooby meeting, Cecily wrinkled her nose in disgust before flouncing to the armchair furthest from the couch Buffy had reclaimed. She patted the armrest next to her, but Spike waved her offer away and slouched next to the former Slayer instead. When she was sure he wasn’t looking, the shorter woman sent a predatorial, toothy smile in the direction of the chair.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the slamming of the front door. Spike and Cecily turned to look, but Buffy only inhaled the new scent: A musty, like old books, but darkly powerful. The Watcher, what was his name? Wood. Yeah, that was right. He greeted them with a nod, strolling into the kitchen to make hot chocolate.

As the silence fell again, more relaxed this time, Buffy found her eyes closing. The breathing that happened automatically when she was awake slowed, her body curling into a small ball. The background hum of her human companions’ blood combined with her full stomach lulling her into a drowsy state of contentment.

Five minutes later, Buffy was sleeping lightly, twitching as the beginnings of nightmares flickered across her face. Cecily was preening in the mirror above the fireplace. Wood was settled in a chair pilfered from the dining room, staring reflectively into the flames. Spike was watching the sleeping vampire, his eyes softening as he traced her features with a tender glance.

The loud knock on the door made them all jump, Wood cursing as he spilled cocoa over his hand. Cecily gave a sigh of disappointment; she’d hoped the Scoobs would’ve forgotten the meeting. Spike merely straightened as his Watcher went to open the door. Buffy was jerked in wakefulness by cheerful voices as the gang of teens filed into the room.

Her nostrils flared, her mouth watering as the sound and scent of their blood suddenly overwhelmed her. It had been a while since she had been near a crowd of humans, and the hunger that darted through her gave her a vague sense of shamed nausea. She tuned back into the conversation, only to shift nervously as she realised that all eyes were on her.

“This is Buffy Summers, the former Slayer. Buffy, this is Willow…”

A redheaded girl in the corner waved, grinning at her with friendly eyes. The residual, ozone-like aroma of magic hung over her, as well as the faint trace of a more masculine scent emanating from the silent boy at her side.

“…Oz…”

The stocky boy sitting beside Willow nodded at her, intelligence gleaming in his steady eyes. Buffy’s nostrils flared as the hairs on the nape of her neck rose, a nearly silent growl rumbling in her throat. The wild, heavy musk of a werewolf lay strongly on him, and she nodded to him in response, one predator to another.

“…Tara…”

Dark, mournful brown eyes met hers for a second before shyly darting away. A reassuring smile stretched her lips, and she was pleased to see an answering one on Tara’s lips. This one, too, smelled of magic, though hers was a softer, more subtle trace.

“…Xander…”

The dark-haired boy shifted nervously, looking both repulsed and fascinated. His unease made her restless, but she smiled to herself when his gaze dropped to her chest and he gawped before a whack on the arm diverted his attention to the girl at his side, who glared at him.

“…and Anya.” Spike finished, pointing at Xander’s attacker.

Buffy cocked her head, grinning when the bouncy blonde turned to her with a dazzlingly beatific smile. “Hi! Did you get paid to be a Slayer, ‘cause Spike bullied the Council into it and now he makes lots of money. I’d have sex with him, but humans get offended so easily and I have Xander to give me orgasms.”

The vampire blinked slowly, trying to process what she’d heard as Xander turned deep red, shaking his head sorrowfully. Buffy curled up slightly tighter, nervously chewing on her lip as the meeting continued, only half awake. The voices faded from her mind as she slipped back into slumber, not seeing the fond smiles bestowed on her by Spike and Tara.

When the door closed quietly on the last of the Scoobies she mewled in her sleep, snuggling back against the broad chest of the man carrying her. Spike froze as she purred in satisfaction, her angelic features glowing softly with her contentment. Laying her on the bed, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before exiting the room, casting a glance back at the sprawled figure of the sleeping vampiress.





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