Chapter 8: A Bit More Complicated
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“Xander!” Anya exclaimed, dropping to her knees next to her boyfriend’s prone body. “I swear Buffy, if anything is broken you’re going to pay for it. Do you know how expensive hospital visits are?”
“I’ll go fetch the smelling salts,” Giles said, moving towards the back room. “And a glass of scotch,” he added under his breath.
“Well Mrs. Thornhill, I must apologize. I didn’t realize my statement was going to cause such a reaction,” the woman said, although she didn’t sound anywhere near sincere. Her thin lips were pressed together and a look of amusement in her eyes as she looked up at the Slayer, which was odd for Buffy. The woman’s long gray-slated skirt made her seem even shorter, the flat black polished shoes she wore did nothing for her height either.
“And you are?” Spike prompted. A quick sniff told him she wasn’t a demon. He could still smell the starch from the crisp ironed lines of her perfectly matching suit top and the hairspray from her painfully tight pulled back bun.
“Ah, Mr. Thornhill I presume?” she stated, looking over the edge of her glasses but didn’t wait for an answer. “I am Doris Kruger, from Child Protection Services. I’ve been assigned to Dawn’s case. They felt she needed special attention and I’m beginning to see why,” she finished, her eyes roaming around the room.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Buffy said lamely at the woman’s disapproving frown. “I uh, I can explain?” she added with a hopeful look.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Doris responded as she began to write on her clipboard.
“What, what are you writing?” Buffy moved closer and tried to peer over the edge of the clipboard but not having much luck.
Doris made one last note, then pulled the board close to her body and rummaged through her purse. Finally she produced two white business cards and extended one towards Dawn and the other towards Buffy.
“Here is my card, with my direct extension. Mr. and Mrs. Thornhill, I’ll be expecting a call from you soon so we can set up a house visit. Dawn, you give me a call if you need anything. Wouldn’t want you to suffer,” Doris added with a pat to Dawn’s arm. “We’ll be in touch,” she promised towards Spike and Buffy before turning on her heel and walking out the shop door, everyone staring blankly after her.
The shop was quiet as everyone tried to process just what happened. Buffy herself was looking for the closet exit. She had never planned on letting the group find out. This really was a nightmare.
“I think I’d like to hear that explanation now,” Giles demanded of Buffy as he came in from the back, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“Giles? Are you drinking again?”
“Nonsense. Just a bit to tide me over. Now don’t change the subject, Mrs. Thornhill,” he said, emphasizing her name, sitting down heavily in a chair. “I think we’re all waiting.”
Buffy bit her lip, looking from Giles to Willow and found the red head looking just as expectant, a look of disbelief and betrayal in her eyes. Meanwhile, Tara was doing her best avoiding her eyes and Anya was still trying to rouse Xander. She could feel Spike and Dawn step closer to her, lending their support, Dawn grabbing onto her hand and giving it a squeeze.
The world really hated her.
“Giles, where’s the sniffy salts?” Anya inquired, breaking Buffy from her self pity.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” he mumbled, tipping his glass and splashing Xander’s face with some alcohol.
Xander came to with a sputter, shaking his head like a dog.
“Why is it raining…alcohol?” he asked with a grimace, wiping it away with the sleeve of his sweater. “Anya?” Xander side whispered.
“Yes?”
“Am I dreaming?”
“No, because if you were there’d be less of them here and more of us--”
Xander cut her off by placing his hand over her mouth, Anya glaring at him.
“Okay,” he agreed. “Not dreaming. I just had a moment of mild hallucination, in which I thought I heard someone say Buffy was married to Spike. Which, ha ha, very funny, because why would I think of Buffy being married to Spike?”
“You’re doing that weird thinking out loud thing where I’m not sure if I should respond back or not,” Anya replied with a frown.
The fog around his head quickly cleared and he sat up with a start, peering over the edge of the table at Buffy, his eyes thinning to slits when he saw how close Spike was.
“Okay, okay, prank over. Ha ha. You pulled a good one. Now where’s the camera?” he asked as he stood, pulling Anya up with him.
“Isn’t there a hole I can crawl into now?” Buffy asked Spike quietly, feeling everyone’s eyes on her.
“Could always cause a distraction while you slip out the back,” Spike whispered back with a smirk.
“No! No! No whispery stuff!” Xander demanded. “Willow! I thought we said no more magic stuff.”
Willow looked stricken, her lower lip quivering in anger. “I haven’t! Ask Tara. I haven’t done anything except the spells on Glory.”
“Xander, Willow had nothing to do with this,” Buffy spoke up, coming to the defense of her friend.
“So no Willow. Tara then?” he suggested, Willow glaring at him.
“Xander, do shut up,” Giles ordered, his eyes never leaving Buffy. “Well then,” he prompted as the group fell silent again.
“I uh… You see… It’s…” Buffy felt her mouth dry up, her throat felt like sandpaper as she swallowed. This was worse than facing a nest of vampires on her own. In fact, she’d rather face a horde of vampires than explain to the group the situation, especially knowing how they were going to react.
“It’s my fault,” Dawn and Spike said at the same time when Buffy continued to remain silent.
The room exploded into sound, both Giles and Xander roaring into tirades about Spike, while the girls rushed to reassure Dawn it wasn’t her fault.
“Stop! Stop it!” Dawn screamed, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “It is my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Bit,” Spike argued, moving around Buffy to stand by her.
“Yes it is! If I wasn’t here, none of this would be happening. There would be no Glory after us and you two wouldn’t be pretending.”
“What do you mean Dawnie?” Willow asked softly.
“Buffy and Spike are pretending to be together so I won’t get taken away,” she confessed in a small voice.
“So you shacked up with Spike? Oh yeah, that’s a brilliant idea,” Xander criticized.
“I didn’t shack up with Spike,” Buffy hissed back.
“Oh? Then what would you prefer I call it? Hitched? Tied the knot? Kiss of death?”
“Hey! I didn’t plan this,” the Slayer argued.
“You didn’t? Well gee, who would have guessed? If you didn’t plan it, then how did you come to… marry the blonde wonder?” Xander questioned with disgust.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s done and over with,” Buffy answered, giving Dawn her best ‘it’s going to be okay’ smile.
“And to correct you whelp, it’s more like I’m shackin’ up with the Slayer,” Spike added, smirking, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans.
Buffy turned and smacked him on the arm.
“So not helping.”
“Please do NOT tell me that means what I think it means,” Xander said, staring at Buffy.
“Spike’s moving in with us? Yay!” Dawn cried, hugging the vampire, her tears from earlier vanishing.
“Are you out of your mind?” Giles yelled at Buffy. “Not only have you tied yourself to a vampire, you’re also letting him live with you? I don’t understand how you could allow such a thing. If your mother were here--”
“Yeah, well she’s not Giles! She’s gone and I can’t lose the last member of my family!” Buffy exploded. “I just lost Mom, I can’t lose Dawn too.”
The mention of Joyce and her recent death was like a slap to the entire group, sobering them up, the severity of the situation finally settling in .
“I apologize, I didn’t mean…” Giles began quietly.
Buffy nodded her head in understanding, afraid to open her mouth and what would come out. Instead, she let Dawn tuck into her side, the thought of their mother still difficult for the both of them.
“Buffy, we’re your family too,” Willow gently reminded.
“I know,” Buffy acknowledged. “But Dawn’s my sister. I just can’t lose her, not to Glory and definitely not to CPS.”
“I hate to ask the stupid question, but how does CPS fit into all this?” Xander asked.
“If they see Buffy as an unfit guardian, they will take Dawn away,” Giles supplied.
“Okay. Still doesn’t explain how Spike got into the mix or why.”
Buffy held up her hand and then pointed at Dawn. “That would be Dawn’s doing. She’s the one that told them Spike and I were married. Blame Dawn.”
“Oh, thanks a lot!” Dawn complained as all eyes turned on her.
“While I still don’t approve of it, I do understand why you are doing it,” Giles said with a sigh, draining the last of the alcohol in his glass, and from the looks of it, wishing the cup would magically refill itself.
With Giles’ blessing of sorts, the others seemed to grudgingly accept that it wasn’t something they were going to be able to change, though Xander still looked like he might put up a fight.
“I still don’t see what help Spike is going to be,” he argued.
“The plan is that if we present a united family, they’ll see that Dawn’s okay and leave us alone,” Buffy explained.
“Oh yeah, because Spike is such a family guy,” Xander commented with a roll of his eyes.
“Like you’re one to talk,” Spike tossed back. “I’ve stayed at your house, and I do remember your daddy dearest…”
Xander was up and across the room, fist raised, ready to throw a punch at Spike’s words. Spike stood waiting for the blow and when he didn’t feel it, he looked up to see that Buffy had intervened, grabbing Xander’s wrist and placing her free hand on his chest to stop his advance.
“No,” was all she simply said, holding onto him until the tension fled from his body. Carefully, she released his wrist but Xander continued to glare at her.
“Buffy--”
“Xander, please. For this plan to work, I need Spike,” she pleaded.
“Wait wait, you can’t honestly tell me you want Spike around,” he said in outrage.
“Of course I don’t want Spike,” Buffy sputtered. She heard a low growl from her left and turned to see Spike heading towards the stock room. The door slammed behind him and Dawn scoffed at her, arms crossed over her chest.
“And you call him the soulless one,” she sneered before running after Spike.
The door closed with a bang only to open two seconds later.
“And you know what else? Mom liked Spike a whole lot more than she ever liked Angel,” Dawn added, again turning back to the door and slamming it close, the wood giving a groan.
Buffy couldn’t argue against that, not after what she’d found out about the art gallery.
“And Buffy,” Anya began, “if there’s any damage to that door, you’re paying for that too.”
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“Spike! Spike! Wait up!” Dawn yelled into the dark tunnel, trying her hardest to stay out of the bad smelling puddles. Her shoes were nice enough and she’d seen the disaster that was Buffy’s shoes after an adventure down here; no way was she letting that happen to her precious shoes.
“Nibblet, what in the bloody hell are you doing?” Spike growled from up ahead.
“Coming after you, you big dummy,” Dawn answered as she jumped over another puddle.
“You should just turn around and go back. Slayer will be worried about you,” he said as he waited for her to catch up. He couldn’t leave her on her own down here, who knew what kind of trouble she’d get into.
“She can worry then. She deserves it.”
“Not arguing with you there,” Spike mumbled.
“So where we headed?” Dawn asked after they’d been walking for a few moments, or more like Spike was walking normally and she was doing her best not to fall on her butt. The slick, wet surfaces weren’t helping at all as she slipped again, trying to avoid another deep puddle. Her recent stumble had Spike looking back at her, shaking his head.
“Come here you. Can’t have you falling and breakin’ something and with me being the one to blame,” Spike said, clasping her arm loosely in his.
“So…” Dawn began. “Where we going?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. I’m heading to my crypt after I drop you off at home.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Too bad, ‘cause that’s where you’re going.”
There was silence for a moment, Dawn doing her best to think of a good excuse for him not to leave her.
“But you can’t, you can’t leave me there,” Dawn finally argued, a look of triumph on her face, knowing she’d outsmarted him.
“And why not?” he questioned, eyebrow raised at her.
“Because you can’t leave me by myself. What if Glory shows up or something?”
Spike scowled, letting out a small growl. Damn if these Summers women didn’t know how to bend him over backwards.
“Fine then, you can come with me, ‘cause I’m not going back to your house.”
“But you have to! You said you were moving in,” Dawn whined, tugging on Spike’s arm.
“Nibs, things are a bit more complicated than you’d think,” he answered.
“Why? Can’t everything just be simple?” she suggested, her head tilted in a gestured not unlike his own. “It’s so much simpler.”
Spike couldn’t help but smile as his words came back to him from her mouth. This was probably the reason he liked Dawn so much. She understood so much more than the others gave her credit for, even if it was unknowingly. The way she trusted him blindly warmed him more than he’d ever admit. If Buffy was going to be a bitch about things, he wasn’t about to let Dawn pay for that. She raised an instinct in him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time, not since he was human and someone not unlike her had depended on him.
“Alright, how ‘bout we swing by Willy’s, grab some boxes to pack up my stuff with and head back to the crypt?”
“Only if you promise to tell me more scary stories on the way,” she negotiated.
He gave her his patented smirk.
“Deal.”
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Spike usually didn’t have moral scruples about things, but this might have been a bad idea. Many of his personal possessions were not appropriate for Dawn’s virgin eyes and he had to think quick to steer her away from areas that he knew would cause high amounts of awkwardness.
“But Spike, we can’t just leave all your stuff here,” Dawn tried arguing with him as he pulled her away from yet another area.
“Don’t worry about it. Just need to take the necessities. Not like I’m never coming back,” he placated.
“Not if I have my way,” Dawn mumbled, scowling, sitting down on the chest they had just emptied. He supposed it should have been pathetic, how what he needed barely fit into a box or two, if he wasn’t undead that is. Most vamps didn’t tie themselves down with too many earthly belongings.
Spike was pulled from his musings as he heard the sound of the crypt door above them quietly opening, the noise loud enough to reach his ears but not Dawn’s. He looked up at the floor, as if it would reveal who it was.
“Bit, stay put. Something’s upstairs,” he warned, looking back to see Dawn’s eyes wide. “If someone starts to come down and I don’t yell it’s me, I want you to run for the sewers. You got that?”
Dawn gave a tiny nod and he could hear her heart thumping away in her chest in fright.
Spike gave her a look that he hoped would reassure her and then immediately scowled at his behavior. There was a difference between looking out for her and being a complete ponce.
Shaking his head, he began climbing up to the ladder, stealthily lifting up the hole covering and snaking out, putting the cover back in place. Staying crouched down, he was assaulted from the side, rolling with the blow to finally surface with a tiny blonde astride him. He couldn’t help but note how familiar this position was becoming.
“Spike?” she questioned, fists still raised.
“No. It’s Casper, the bloody ghost.”
“What are you doing?”
“What did it look like I’m doing? Was checking who was in my crypt,” he answered curtly.
“No, what were you doing down there? Is there another level?” she asked, turning her head to look at the trapdoor.
“What’s it to you?” Spike asked, slitting his eyes at her. Slayer had never shown an interest in anything about him before. That in turn made Buffy suspicious and she stared down at him.
“Tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know.”
Spike gave a short bark of laughter at that. “Right, because the Slayer wants to know. Funny, I remember said Slayer saying she wanted nothing to do with me,” he fired back, bitterness in his voice.
Now it was her turn to back down, but only just a little. The resentment in his tone cut her to the quick. He stayed still, waiting for her to say something, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I… I…”
“I what?” he prompted. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe your head’s too far up your--”
She went to hit him then, Spike’s reflexes the only thing coming between stopping her and a broken nose.
“You are such a--” she started, a sneer on her face, but Spike cut her off.
“Bastard? Asshole? Heard them all, doesn’t change a thing. Is it really that hard to admit?”
“Admit what?” Buffy repeated, his question throwing her off.
“Admit that you need me. That you want me,” he answered in a way that the answer should have been obvious. Buffy felt a lump in her throat at the expression on his face, such open yearning for her.
“I was… what I said was wrong.”
The words had barely left her mouth before Spike was kissing her. She gasped in shock and Spike took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, Buffy responding back to the kiss, her hands gripping onto the collar of his leather jacket. His kisses burned her from the inside out, the cold crypt suddenly becoming uncomfortably hot. Withstanding the blazing heat as long as she had breath for, she finally pulled back gasping for breath.
“Wait two seconds,” she breathed. “Where’s Dawn?”
Dawn popped her head up from under the trapdoor, a smile glittering her face.
“Present and accounted for!”
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tbc…