Many apologies for the long delay since the last update. Between work and some pesky health issues, I haven’t had much online time at all. Plus, I wanted to hold off until I could sit down and reply to the very kind reviews that I still haven’t answered. Which I still haven’t done. I’m so ashamed. ::hangs head::
At any rate, I’ve finally decided to go ahead and update and will work on catching up with replies as I can.
And to refresh your memory, so you don’t have to go back and read the earlier chapters, here’s the story thus far:
Buffy gets a mysterious summons from Giles that takes her to his estate in England. There, she finds Spike who, along with Illyria, was teleported out of the NFA alley in the midst of the big battle. Only hitch is, he’s in an unexplained comatose state, which may or may not have something to do with the infamous Shanshu prophecy.
Buffy finally figures out the quickest way to wake him up. (Any guesses as to what that would be? Heh.) But Spike’s a little pissed off that Buffy put her life at risk to do it, and Buffy’s pissed that he’s pissed. So…surprise, surprise…they’re not really talking to each other the way they should be. Which makes rescuing Angel and Gunn from an alternate dimension just a wee bit tricky, but those stubborn kids are gonna give it a shot anyway.
Shortly after arriving in the alternate dimension, the two of them get a little…um…distracted. Then Buffy says something stupid and Spike says something stupid and…well, think you can see where this is heading. And then things really heat up. Literally.
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Spike was getting bloody tired of dragons. At least, this particular dragon. Especially when it kept trying to kill him. But he couldn’t even give it points for persistence since the barmy lizard, which had obviously been sucked through the same portal he had narrowly escaped, probably didn’t even realize he was one of the white hats from the alley. It was trying to fry them on general principle alone.
Well, that and it could be dinnertime, too.
A huge, sweeping claw narrowly missed his head as he ducked beneath it to roll between the creature’s forelegs, the momentum strong enough to carry him straight out the back end. As he surged to his feet, a quick back flip saved him from being flattened by the lashing tail. Around him, patches of blackened grass smoldered, the flames igniting them thankfully short-lived and not inclined to spread. The last thing they needed on top of everything else was a raging wildfire.
Keeping a wary eye on the beast’s tail, Spike danced in and out, looking for his opening. He landed a savage blow with the short sword, but it glanced harmlessly off the industrial-strength scales, no more effective than any of the previous whacks he and Buffy had administered.
Pausing to regroup, Spike spotted his slayer standing beneath the creature doggedly hacking away at the dragon’s underbelly, which seemed only marginally less protected than the rest of it. Instead of taking exception to her efforts, the massive beast ignored her, great head lifting to take in the horizon. It was either supremely confident of its own invincibility, or it seriously underestimated the potential threat an irritated vamp and a pissed off slayer posed.
Though Spike was starting to think the dragon’s only vulnerable spot might be inside its gullet. Not a theory he was eager to test.
The tail arced around for another swipe at his head.
“Bloody hell!” he roared, not quite nimble enough this time to avoid a glancing blow. It slammed the sword from his hand and sent him tumbling through the grass. Any second he would feel the hot lick of the dragon’s fiery breath consuming him, but when he finally rolled to a stop and regained his footing, he found the creature still peering into the distance, as aloof and motionless as the bloody Sphinx.
Already charging back into the fray, Spike’s steps faltered and slowed. Something wasn’t right. The thing was obviously distracted, but why? What could be more interesting to it than potential dinner?
He got a partial answer as a distant cry reached his ears, faint and higher-pitched than the dragon’s roar but no less commanding. It reminded Spike of the shrill caw of a Brignug demon, a creature every bit as vicious as it was large.
And Brignugs were bloody large.
Whatever the thing was, the dragon clearly didn’t fancy meeting up with it. Its ponderous head reared back as it unfurled massive wings. Then, with a mighty roar, it rocked back onto its hind legs and launched itself into the air, the sudden rush of wind from the takeoff knocking vampire and slayer to the ground. They scrambled up in unison and stood together, eyes following the beast as it banked sharply and retraced its previous flight path over the woods, great wings beating against the night sky.
They continued to stand silently, watching until the creature had vanished beyond the treetops, before turning to look at each other.
“Okay, did I miss something here? Did we just win and I didn’t notice?”
Spike pivoted to search the opposite horizon, scanning the moonlit landscape for some sign of the thing he’d heard. “Somethin’ spooked it. Whatever it was that made that sound.”
Buffy cocked her head. “What sound? All I heard was the dragon.” He didn’t answer, and she moved to stand beside him. “Do you still hear it?”
“No. Smell somethin’. Just a whiff. Don’t think it’s close, but I can’t say for sure.”
“What do you think it is?”
With a slow head swivel, Spike gave her an incredulous look. “Think you’re as likely to know as I am, slayer. Care to venture a guess?”
She grimaced. “Something that scares a fire-breathing dragon the size of a house? I’m thinking it’s not gonna be Big Bird.”
He arched an eyebrow and waited.
“It’s the…different levels,” she offered. “Of dimensions? Like Sesame Street vs. Dawn of the Dead? Willow said…”
He must have looked as lost as he felt because she trailed off, shrugging self-consciously. “Never mind. Kind of had to be there.”
“Yeah, alright. So…something big and probably very nasty is lurkin’ out there in the dark and we don’t know what it is.” He smirked at her. The tussle with the dragon had made him a bit nostalgic. He couldn’t resist asking. “Want to find out?”
Buffy frowned, stooping to pick up the dropped sword as she brushed herself off. “Spike, we don’t have time to be playing with the local flora and fauna. Our portal’s got an expiration date, remember?” She nodded in the direction they’d been heading before the dragon’s untimely appearance.
“Yeah, I know.” Shrugging, he moved to retrieve his own weapons even as he sighed for lost opportunities. “Come on then, Dorothy. Let’s hit the Yellow Brick Road and find our missin’ munchkins.”
They hadn’t traveled very far at all before Buffy broke the silence.
“You should have told me.” Her face was turned away from him, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “Seriously. Afraid or not. You should have told me. How did letting me think you were dead all this time seem like even remotely a good idea? I know you, Spike. There had to be more to it.”
Spike, tempted to point out that he was dead, stopped. Buffy deserved better than some lame attempt to sidestep the question.
“Couldn’t at first. On account of bein’ a ghost and all. Don’t know if Blue told you, but when I first came back I had a slight tangibility problem. Was a bit corporeally challenged until some mysterious bit of hocus-pocus made me a semi-real boy again. Then later…had obligations.”
“Obligations.” Her rigid back and bunched shoulders made his fingers long to ease away the tension. But he kept his hands to himself. “Yeah. Know all about those. I should be happy for you, that you found something there. But strangely enough, I’m not.”
Her voice was flat. She kept walking and didn’t look back.
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Almost two hours later, they stood at the top of a long ridge looking down at a small village. It lay nestled along a meandering river that snaked past a thick stand of trees that loomed on the opposite side. A series of rough-hewn docks lined the river’s edge, playing host to boats of all shapes and sizes as they rocked quietly in their rustic berths.
A high-arching wooden bridge spanned a narrow bend of the river, linking the village to the woods on the other side. A human-shaped form apparently stood guard at the center of the bridge, but it was too dark and the figure too far away to make out any details. Flickering light shone through a lone window here and there, but most of the village seemed bedded down for the night. The road Buffy and Spike had been following zigzagged down the side of the ridge, eventually entering the village and reappearing at the opposite end of town before vanishing into a distant grove of trees.
The wind changed direction for a few seconds, strong gusts whipping Buffy’s hair around her shoulders. She could have sworn it carried the faint strains of a lively tune coming from somewhere below, but it shifted again and the music was gone. A quick sideways glance at Spike failed to reveal if he’d heard it, too. She wasn’t about to ask.
Over the past hour or so, they had covered a fair amount of ground in relative silence. As the rush brought on by their mini-battle had waned, so had the conversation. Not that there’d been much to begin with. After she’d left Spike with her little bombshell, he’d subsided into a kind of guarded watchfulness that gradually crawled under her skin. It was different from the quiet melancholy that had plagued him when she’d first brought him out of the high school basement. This felt like a flood of words and recriminations were pressing against his tight-lipped frown, ready to come spilling forth the second he opened his mouth.
But he didn’t.
What was all that about anyway? She deserved it, right? After what she’d said to him. And since when had Spike been anything less than vocal about his grievances? About anything? Since when was he unwilling to take a risk to get what he wanted? To lay his heart on the line even if it was sure to get stomped on? Since when would he choose duty and honor over…her? This new Spike was irritating and unnerving and just all kinds of wrong. If he didn’t snap out of it soon, she’d be tempted to slug him. Or kiss him. Or both.
But all of those options would have to wait now. This was the first sign of non-demon life they’d found and it was entirely possible Angel was down there somewhere. Possible, but just how likely?
“Could it really be that easy?” she wondered aloud.
Spike snorted. “If by easy you mean jumpin’ blind through a swirly portal that feels like it’s turning your innards into your outtards, gettin’ up-close-and-too-bloody personal with an armor-plated dragon, almost gettin’ ourselves flambéed, not to mention trying to decide which god-forsaken rock in this whole sodding dimension we should look under first, then yeah. Maybe.”
Buffy ignored the mini rant, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the scene below. But she trembled a bit when he shifted and his bare forearm brushed against hers.
And of course he noticed her response, damn him, tiny as it was. His voice, pitched low, sounded softly in her ear. “Feeling all tingly, are we?”
She pulled away, looking at him askance. “What?”
He stared back. “Angel? Slayer radar? Got the tinglies?”
Buffy blinked and swallowed. “Oh. No…no tinglies. Totally tingle-free.” She turned her gaze back to the village below, relieved to break eye contact.
“Yeah, well…expect we’re a bit far off for that. Still…” He sighed. “So what’s the plan then?”
She took a deep breath, firming up her resolve before meeting his waiting gaze. “We split up. You take the left side, I’ll take the right. See if we can spot any sign of Angel and Gunn. And we’d better keep a low profile. Like, really low, in case the locals have six heads or something.” She glanced back down the hill. “This place isn’t that big. Let’s say an hour, then we meet back at the edge of town.”
“Right. Shall we synchronize our watches then?”
“That’s a good—” Buffy stopped, frowned. “Spike. We don’t have watches.”
“My point exactly.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just cover your half. We’ll meet back at the road into town when we’re done.”
Fortunately, they had no trouble entering the village undetected. Buffy had to wonder why a guard would be stationed on the river bridge while the rest of the town was left exposed. Though that question went unanswered, a second mystery was solved not long after she and Spike split up. Thanks to a near run-in with a drunken villager staggering through the darkened streets, she now knew this dimension’s inhabitants were pretty interchangeable with those of her own. At least if she and Spike were spotted, they wouldn’t stand out that much.
Scratch that. She wouldn’t stand out that much. Spike, of course, drew attention wherever he went. If not for his striking appearance, then for his sheer propensity to attract trouble.
Buffy had smiled wryly at the thought, but her amusement vanished the instant the drunk had plopped himself down on a wooden bench barely more than an arm’s length from where she had taken cover. She’d lost a lot of time crouched behind a waist-high stone wall, waiting to see if he would pass out or continue on his way. But just as Buffy was debating the wisdom of vaulting over the wall and sending him off to dreamland herself, the sound of loud snoring reached her ears and she was once again on the hunt.
Almost an hour later, she’d found no sign of Angel or Gunn and her slayer radar remained dishearteningly silent. The only real excitement she’d encountered was a strange wailing sound that had suddenly filled the air. It had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere but lasted only a second or two. Buffy had stopped and waited, fingers gripping the hilt of her sword a little more firmly. After a tense few moments, nothing else was heard and she had cautiously moved on.
Now, with no more than two or three streets left to check, she could only hope Spike was having better luck. If not, they’d be forced to seek shelter for the day while deciding on their next move.
Reaching the end of the street, Buffy halted, hands resting against one of the stucco-like buildings that made up the town. She leaned forward and peered around the corner to make certain no unwelcome surprises lay in wait.
“Buffy…”
She froze.
Across from her, in the dark mouth of a narrow alleyway she’d somehow overlooked, stood a featureless figure. But she didn’t have to see his face to recognize the vampire she had come here to rescue.
“Angel?”
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Spike halted at the junction of streets, jaw clenching as he looked around. He’d already wasted more time than he should have pacing back and forth at the spot where he and Buffy were supposed to meet up. Finally, worried that something had happened, he’d let out a growl and charged back into town, determined to find her.
He definitely felt antsy here. Had ever since the two of them had split up. Despite the obvious differences in look and locale, there was something about the place that reminded him of that small village in the Balkans where he and Dru had once spent a tense fortnight waiting for Darla and Angelus to return from one of their unexplained side trips. Never had found out what the two of them were about, but he and Drusilla had never been invited along, and the one time he’d tried to follow had…well, ended badly.
In the Balkans, the superstitious villagers had made their lives hell. They’d been suspicious of strangers and overly watchful, and the size of the village had made it impossible for any resident to vanish without causing an uproar. Needless to say, there’d been a lot of lost feeding time to make up for once they’d finally moved on.
Here, in this small burg, Spike felt the same kind of oppressive heaviness in the air, a sense of expectant wariness, though nothing around him stirred. He felt hemmed in, almost claustrophobic, and itchy to be away from the town’s environs as fast as possible.
Something bad was going to happen here. If it hadn’t already.
Gritting his teeth even harder, Spike closed his eyes. He raised his face to the slight breeze that stirred the night air, took a deep whiff, and followed his nose.
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Holding her breath, Buffy watched as the figure remained motionless for several beats. Then long strides ate up the space between them.
“Buffy… god, you’re here.”
Strong arms reached out for her and without even thinking she found herself moving into them. Her own circled his waist, her cheek pressing hard against his chest as she returned the embrace with relieved ferocity. Her enthusiasm was enough to elicit a muffled grunt.
Loosening her hold, she tilted her head back to gaze into Angel’s face as she thumped him lightly on the chest. “No fair,” she complained. “I was supposed to find you.”
He smiled. “You did. I just happened to see you first.” Then sobering, he stared at her. “I knew you’d come.”
His hand brushed her face and the next thing she knew he was kissing her. And she was kissing him back. And thoughts were swirling around in her head, like how long it had been since they’d first done this and how much had happened between then and now and how she still missed him but somehow it wasn’t the same. Couldn’t be the same. And she knew with perfect clarity why it never would be again. Then one thought surfaced, supplanting all of the others.
She pulled away, her shocked gaze locked with his.
“Oh my god…you’re…”
“Human, yeah.” A huge smile blossomed across his face. “I was wondering how long it would take. For you to figure it out, I mean. Kind of thought you’d notice how I was able to sneak up on you, but hey…sometimes I still don’t believe it myself. Isn’t it great?”
She was swept up in a massive hug. When he finally released her, his eyes were sparkling, his manner playful and teasing. So different from the Angel she remembered.
“You’re really…I don’t…how…?” Buffy’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t think straight. And had apparently lost the ability to form a complete sentence.
Angel laughed, his words coming fast and furious. “You think you’re surprised? It was pretty much the last thing I expected, for more reasons than you’d think. I gotta admit, it takes a little getting used to. I mean, I’m working on a killer tan and my diet’s a lot less limited than it used to be, but I kind of miss the whole super-strength thing and the enhanced senses and all. I keep forgetting to carry a weapon around. Really have to stop doing that,” he muttered to himself, then his eyes were focused on her again.
“Didn’t even know you were out here till I saw you. I only came out because I heard a Vorgnar demon howling. Came through the portal the same time we did. Their voices travel a long way so it’s probably off in the woods somewhere, but I figured, hey…better safe than sorry. And now I’m definitely not sorry.” Then he surprised her by swooping in for another enthusiastic kiss.
“Vorgnar…?” Buffy asked, as soon as she could end the kiss. Damn. Still all incoherent-y, not to mention lagging significantly behind in the conversation.
“Yeah. Mean. Ugly. Sort of like…Spike.”
Buffy blinked. Then she noticed the direction of Angel’s gaze and her brain slammed into gear. With a terrible sense of déjà vu, she whirled around. Only this time, she was aware of his presence. This time, she could see the raw anger in his chiseled features, read the veiled hurt and betrayal in those stormy blue eyes. But worst of all, was the strong sense of resignation radiating from every line of his motionless form.
Before she could react, he spoke.
“Angel. Good to see you’re still in one piece. Was worried you might not have made it.”
Huh?
“Yeah. You’re okay, too, I see.” Angel’s smile, which had vanished when he’d said Spike’s name, returned full force. “Guess I’ve had worse news.”
Buffy frowned as Spike nodded in return.
“Don’t mean to spoil the reunion, but we’re workin’ on a deadline here. Where’s Gunn?”
Angel jerked his head toward a large building that loomed behind him. “Inside. Sleeping. I’m human now.”
Buffy thought she detected the tiniest twitch in Spike’s jaw.
“I noticed.” He looked away. “Best go wake up sleeping beauty so we can all get the hell out of here, yeah? Got better things to do than hang around waitin’ for the sun to come up.” He turned back, finally meeting her gaze. “Tell you what…I’ll go on ahead, make sure the way is clear.”
And before she realized it, he was suiting action to words, striding back the same way he must have come. Away. Away from her. His voice drifted back over his shoulder.
“When you two are finished celebrating, grab Charlie and meet me on the road out of town. Just don’t tarry too long, eh? Might have to leave without you.”
Then she lost sight of him as he vanished around a corner.
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Spike figured he’d made better exits in his life, but at the moment speed was more important to him than style. Though he’d managed to hold it together pretty well, he wasn’t certain how much longer he could keep the anger at bay. As genuinely glad as he was to find Angel and Gunn alive and well, seeing the old man standing there in front of him, all human and Buffy-having, was a little bit more than he could be expected to bear. Right now, he wanted nothing better than to find a convenient demon to dismember.
Bonus points if it could be something Angel-shaped.
Spike consoled himself with the assurance that he’d done a pretty good job hiding his pain. He’d struggled hard not to give too much away. Buffy, on the other hand, had been all too easy to read, thoughts and emotions flitting across that expressive, beautiful face. Shocked surprise had been followed in rapid succession by dismay and guilt. Spike hadn’t waited for the apologetic pity sure to come next. Instead, he’d decided to put some distance between them. Give them all a little time so that when they finally met up again, they could pretend they weren’t caught up in one big soap opera parody.
And he could pretend it didn’t matter that once again he was second best.
He remembered a time when he wouldn’t have cared if they’d seen his anger or tasted his anguish. He would have reveled in the telling of it, howling his grief into the night sky, pouring his outrage into a roundhouse punch and an all-out brawl. But that was before the soul. Now, he handled disappointment in a different way.
And it tasted like ashes.
Or…dirt, maybe. Possibly because he was suddenly lying flat on his face in the middle of the road, a familiar weight pressing down against his back. As warm breath caressed his neck and a golden strand of hair tickled his nose, he felt her lean down to whisper in his ear.
“Stupid vampire. Take one more step and I swear I will so stake your ass…”
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TBC in Chapter 12
A/N: And the rollercoaster ride known as Spuffy continues. Those crazy kids…I warned you it was going to be a bumpy ride. Heh.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Author's Note: This is currently a WIP written in response to a Spuffy Kinkathon challenge. The story requirements were as follows: The requested kink was hurt/comfort. Three other requests were to show Spike reluctantly biting Buffy, include Dawn and/or Xander in the story, and set it anywhere from Season 5 to Post-NFA.