The shrill ‘brrrrring’ of the alarm clock made Buffy groan. She rolled over, intending to slap the machine into silence, only to encounter a small, warm body in her way. She froze for a minute before her memory came rushing back. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she rose to her feet and quietly padded around the bed to turn off the alarm.
Dawn stirred restlessly, her little hands curling against her chest. Noticing the dark smudges underneath the girl’s eyes, her aunt smiled wistfully and left her to sleep. She showered quickly, dressing in silence. Unsure about waking Dawn, she hesitated in the doorway to the bedroom, then went back to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Dawnie?”
Dawn murmured, frowning as she rolled away from the gentle hand on her shoulder. Buffy grinned, pressing a little harder. Finally her niece turned onto her back and her big, sleepy eyes blinked open. She regarded her aunt through serious, heavy-lidded eyes.
“Dawnie, I have to go to work now, okay? You sleep for as long as you need, then you can come down the big hall to the door with the fancy numbers. If you knock, a nice man will open the door. He’ll come find me for you, alright?”
Dawn nodded, her eyes already closing again. Buffy pressed a kiss to her forehead and exited the apartment, leaving the door unlocked behind her. When Wesley opened the suite door to her, she drew him aside. He smiled at her with sympathy in his kind eyes.
“Wes, my sister’s daughter Dawn is going to be living with me for a while. I’ve left her in my flat, but I’ve told her to come here when she feels up to it. Could you come and get me when she does?” The butler nodded. “Thanks.”
She turned to walk away, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Buffy, I’m so sorry about your sister, but…”
When he fidgeted with his glasses awkwardly, her brows snapped down. The Englishman was rarely awkward. “Spit it out, Wes.”
He met her eyes, mouth quirked in a wry smile. “As you wish. Warren has given the clients food poisoning.”
Buffy remained still and calm for as long as it took for his words to sink in and to thank Wesley. Then she flipped.
Willow and Tara, who often stopped in during the early morning hours to care for her supplies, were talking while the redhead cleaned the living room. Buffy stormed in, green eyes flashing, fists clenched, face pale and drawn tight with fury. The two girls exchanged anticipatory grins. Neither liked Warren, who was prone to leering at and groping them as often as possible.
Somme part of Buffy noticed their smiles and was amused. The rest of her remained more pissed off than she’d been in a while. “Is he in the kitchen?” Her voice was coldly furious, deadly in its softness.
They wordlessly nodded and followed after the petite blonde as she stalked into the kitchen. Andrew and Jonathon exchanged questioning glances with Buffy’s two followers, then giggled nervously when they nodded. Their boss ignored them, planting herself firmly in the centre of the room.
When Warren looked up from his task, it was to see four smug sets of eyes above beaming smiles behind an unsmiling Buffy. He faltered in his preparation, rubbing his palms nervously on the front of his uniform and leaving greasy smears there. Buffy rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head, regarding him with a scornful, unflinching gaze.
The watchers’ grins widened when he stopped work completely, his body swivelling to face the boss. Still she remained silent, just watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he shifted his feet nervously, but then a giggle from his shorter assistant made him puff out his chest. It wasn’t just his job at stake here, it was his ego.
“Did you want something, Buffy?” He leered at her, eyes dropping to her slender, toned legs, revealed underneath her skirt.
She smiled coldly. “I want you pack up anything that’s yours. I want you to go downstairs and tell them that you’ve been fired for misconduct and sheer incompetence. I want you to hand in your employee ID and get your fat ass out of this hotel. And I want you to do it within the next ten minutes, or I’ll call security.”
She turned on her heel, leaving him gaping at her back, and marched past their openly laughing audience. Warren snarled something unintelligible, pursuing her out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he grabbed her arm and yanked her around to face him.
“You can’t fire me, you little bitch. I’ll tell every newspaper in the country about you and Spike Giles having your sordid affaire.”
Buffy gestured around them, still giving him the benefit of an icy smile. “Try it. There are at least five other people in this suite who could stand as witnesses against you and your allegations, though where on Earth you got them from I don’t know. I have never slept with Spike Giles or any other client.” She eyed him with disgust. “And if you don’t get your hand off me, I’ll sue for harassment and assault.”
He swore at her, face twisted into a mask of hatred, before spinning and storming out of the suite, slamming the door behind him. Wesley looked up from where he was polishing the picture frame of a photograph by the door, eyebrows raised.
“I think that it would be a good idea to call Mr. Angel and tell him that you require a new chef.”
Buffy suddenly smiled, the tension leaving her as the last vestiges of anger left her. She looked at the door with satisfaction. “Good riddance to bad rubbish. And tell Angel that we want a chef’s assistant, not a chef.” She turned to face the gaggle of watchers. “Congratulations, Andrew, you’ve just been promoted. Jonathon, you’re now primary assistant. Could you make something our guests will be able to keep down by lunchtime?”
The two men looked at each other, grinning incredulously. Andrew clapped his hands and, still beaming happily, led his friend back to his domain. Just as Buffy relaxed, she heard the soft knock on the door and the sound of Wesley opening it. She hurried through to him, just in time to catch Dawn as she flung herself into her aunt’s arms.
Spinning the little girl around until she giggled, Buffy kissed her forehead gently before setting her down to face Willow and Tara, who were both gawping at her. The blonde grinned, but her niece turned and wrapped surprisingly strong arms around her calves, cuddling close to her caretaker.
In response to Willow and Tara’s looking at her with a mixture of ‘aww, cute!’ and ‘oh my God, who are you?’, however, Dawn turned and gave them a wide-eyed, heartstring-plucking stare. The two women melted and descended in a rush of hugs and kisses. Buffy watched the little girl with admiration. She was truly an expert.
“Guys, this is my niece Dawn. She’ll be living with me for a while. Dawnie, this is Willow and Tara.”
Dawn smiled at the besotted women and held her arms out for another hug, which they both gladly gave. Finally her soft voice distracted them from their cooing and general fuss-making. “Aunt Buffy said I should come here. Do you work here like the nice man with the funny voice?”
Giggling at this description of Wesley, both girls nodded and spirited Dawn into the living room, leaving Buffy smiling behind them. Once she’d seen that the little girl had two adoring caretakers, she turned and strode down the hall towards Spike’s bedroom. Pausing outside the door, she knocked gently. A groan from inside made her push open the door.
Spike was lying in the bed, the duvet pulled up to his waist, his bare chest glistening with sweat. His already pale skin looked almost white, a sheen of clammy moisture covering his whole body. The acid reek of vomit and illness hung in the air. Wrinkling her nose, she crossed to the bed.
“Spike?”
He groaned again, rolling his head towards her and opening his eyes to the tiniest slits in order to see who was addressing him. He saw the light gleaming on her golden hair and her concerned green eyes glittering down at him and it clicked. Buffy. He turned his head away, cursing her timing.
“Spike?”
“Go ‘way, Buffy. Don’t want you to see me like this.” His voice was a harsh croak.
She suddenly stood up, becoming brisk and business-like. “Nonsense. Here, let me get you a drink of water and some ibuprofen or something.” She returned a few minutes later and glared at him until he swallowed the two little capsules down. “Alright, time to get you cleaned up.”
He wanted to protest, but he was exhausted after long hours of throwing up the previous day; although he was recovering now, he still felt weaker than normal. He leaned heavily on her as she half-dragged him to the bathroom, where she flipped on the shower and propped him against it before turning away.
“Strip!” Came the order.
He sighed but obeyed slowly. The thought of a warm shower to wash away the stench of yesterday’s activities was tantalising. She reached a hand back and slid open the shower door and he carefully stepped inside. Hearing the water noise change and the door slide back into place, she exited the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Twenty minutes later a much cleaner-smelling, now-dry Spike emerged from the bathroom clad in loose tracksuit bottoms that rode low on his hips. He was already feeling less shaky and he padded quietly out into the hall and towards the living room. The sight that met his eyes made him stop in his tracks.
Buffy was sitting on the sofa, a little girl snuggled into her lap, thumb in her mouth as she slept. Something in him softened, and he stepped towards her. She looked up and smiled gently, patting the sofa next to her in invitation. He sat down, staring at the child. Buffy’s voice was soft.
“This is my niece, Dawn. She’ll be living with me for a while.”
He nodded, running wondering fingers over the glossy brown hair, over the delicate arms and down to the tiny, fragile fingers. Buffy, watching him, almost melted at the look of awed adoration in his eyes. She could almost imagine him with their children, the little blonde curls he’d ruffle in fatherly affection, the way his blue eyes would light up when the kids came home from school…
Whoa! Back up, Buffy. Kids? Really not wanting to go there.
Shying away from those thoughts, she gratefully latched on to a safer one, though how much safer she didn’t know. “Spike?”
He looked down at her, and she realised that he’d somehow snuck closer and closer until he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. How had he done that? She shook her head to clear it, shifting Dawnie on her lap. Right. Dawnie. Focus, Buffy!
“Spike, having Dawn around… It’s going to complicate things.”
He searched her face, holding her with his intent gaze. “What’re you thinkin’ in that head o’ yours, Buffy? Tell me.”
She sighed. “It’s just… Can we hold off on the relationship front? At least until you’re not a client any more. I’m still figuring out how to juggle my life as it is, and I just… I need some time.” She suddenly smiled, giving him a smouldering look from under her lashes. “Think you can last a few more days?”
He swept down, skilfully avoiding Dawn to press a hard, quick kiss to her lips that left her body throbbing with the ache of unsatisfied arousal. He got up, curling his tongue behind his teeth in that devastating gesture so that she whimpered quietly to herself. He bent over, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her lips, and her own parted as though to take it into herself. His voice was a low, seductive purr.
“I don’t know, pet. Can you?”
Leaving her squirming uncomfortably and trying not to wake Dawn, he laughed and sauntered back towards his bedroom. He was feeling a lot better already.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm trying to make a decision. Do I post the prologue of the sequel to LOTE and make you wait 'til I've finished this story for the rest, or do I not post anything until this is finished? What do you think?