Chapter Fourteen
Collin sat with his army of vampires in his factory. The child vampire looked around his group pleased with some of them, and others, well, he just tolerated.
“The Master is dead,” His favorite minion, Dax, began. “Someone has to take his place.”
“As long as the Slayer's alive,” His third in command, Victor. “Whoever takes his place will be sharing his grave.”
“Then let the soul who kills Spike wear The Master’s mantle.” Dax responded.
“Can you do it?” Collin asked.
“Yes. This weekend, the night of St. Vigeous, our power shall be at its peak.” Dax grinned. “When I kill him, it'll be the greatest event since the crucifixion. And I should know. I was there.”
Darla appeared behind them. “You were there?” she giggled. “Oh please! If every vampire who said he was at the crucifixion was actually there, it would have been like Woodstock.”
Dax growled. “I oughta rip your throat out.”
Darla turned her back to him, strolling away. “I was actually at Woodstock. That was a weird gig. I fed off a flowerperson, and I spent the next six hours watching my hand move.”
Dax rushed her from behind, which Darla swung her fist up without even looking, hitting him in the face and knocking him down for the count and out.
She turned around grinning. “So, who do you kill for fun around here?”
Collin regarded the blonde vampiress. “What are you doing back in Sunnydale, Darla?”
Darla growled at Victor, causing him to look away for a moment. She then looked back to Collin. “You've got Slayer problems. Two, to be exact. That's a bad piece of luck. Do you know what I find works real good with Slayers? Killing them.”
“Can you?” Collin asked. “Because the last time you were in town-”
“I have a talented Childe. She could do it a lot faster that Overgrown there.” She nodded to Dax, still on the floor. “She did a couple Slayers in her time. I don't like to brag.” She said solemnly, then smiled, not being able to keep a straight face. “Who am I kidding? I love to brag! There was this one Slayer during the Boxer Rebellion, and…”
She sensed someone behind her and turned her head to look as she morphed into her human guise.
“Drusilla,” Darla went to her favorite Childe. “You shouldn't be walking around. You're weak. That fight with the Slayers, it took a lot of energy for you.”
Dru looked around the room. “Look at all the people. Are these nice people?”
“We're getting along.” Darla purred.
Drusilla stared at Collin. “This one has power. I could feel it from the outside.”
“Yeah,” Darla nodded. “He's the big noise in these parts. Anointed, and all that.”
“Do you like daisies? Hmm?” Dru looked from her Sire back to Collin. “I plant them, but they always die. Everything I put in the ground withers and dies.” she then looked up and off into space. “Mummy? I’m cold.”
Darla took off her zipped up sweater and put it around the raven haired vampiress. “Here, sweetie, don’t worry. Mommy‘s got you.”
Dru smiled. “I'm a princess.”
Darla nodded. “That's what you are.”
Dru pricked Darla on the cheek with her fingernail, and a bead of blood flowed out. She then lean in and licked it off. The two female vampires moved close to kiss but didn't, and instead, looked over at Collin.
“Me and Dru, we're movin' in,” Darla said then they separated. “Now. Any of you want to test who's got the biggest wrinklies around here... step on up.” she glanced at Collin. “Dru will do your Slayer for you. But you keep your flunkies from tryin' anything behind our backs. Deal?”
Collin nodded.
Drusilla bowed her head down and put her hands to her temples. “Sunshine. I want to kill Sunshine. But you, you get the boy. He’s to be ours forever. Can you? Please, Mummy?”
“It's done, baby.” Darla grinned.
“But I get Sunshine? A kill for princess?”
“I’ll let you chop her into messes.”
Drusilla smiled. “My sweet mum.”
“So,” Darla regarded Collin. “Buffy, the new Slayer, she seems tough…”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy stared in the mirror feeling hopeless. It seemed that ever since she became the Slayer, her whole life began falling apart. First her father didn’t believe her, sticking her in a sanitarium. Then when they released her, she ended up having to fight Lothos, causing the fire in the gym of Hemery. And now with everything, school, Spike, Darla, it all seemed to start crashing together.
Sighing, she picked up her brush, gliding it through her hair. “Ow!”
“What’s wrong?” Spike asked, standing at her door.
“I spent a good part of my allowance on this new cream rinse, and it's neither creamy nor rinsey.” she told him.
He grinned. “Life is hard, luv.”
“Don't I know it,” she paused. “Is that a split end?”
“Buffy, about today-” he was interrupted.
Buffy turned in her seat and glared. “Go away, Spike.”
Spike smirked, ignoring her as he sauntered into the room, “Nice room. Very posh.”
Her room was the same as she had left it. Pinky and frilly. A room meant for an innocent girl, not a warrior who fought demons on a nightly basis.
She rolled her eyes, “And your room isn’t? Go back there, were you belong.”
He sat on her bed, his looks and clothing the total oppose of her white and pink blankets and pillows. “My room has changed since you left. It’s darker, with black and red. I have a bigger bed too. A Full. With red silk and satin sheets. Care to try it out?”
She watched as he adjusted himself comfortably against her pillows, his arms behind his head, looking like he belonged in her bed. Oh God. So not going with that train of thought. Derailing from it as of now.
“Get out of my bed.” She narrowed her green eyes.
“Lemme think ‘bout it,” He truly seemed to contemplate on listening to her. “Nope. I find it right comfy ‘ere. Want to join me?”
As it seemed for the millionth time today, she sighed again. “I should have not come back.”
He tilted his head. “Did you want to? Or did your dad really force you to come back here.”
“A little bit of both.” Buffy pushed him aside and laid down next to him.
She didn’t care if he was laying next to her. She wasn’t leaving her room anytime soon, so her bed was the most comfortable option for lounging now. Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
“What‘s the matter, pet?” Spike wondered, liking the feeling of her body brushing against his, and turned towards her.
“Everything. Ever since I’ve become the Slayer, it seems as if I have to deal with one thing after another, you know?” she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I know.” he said quietly.
“A person can only go through so much,” Buffy closed her eyes. “Being a Slayer isn’t a gift. It’s a burden.”
Spike shrugged. “Well, it can be good you know. Super strength and speed. Agility. Well, for the most part, as long as you’re not drunk.”
At her look he rolled his eyes. “Went on a bender after I died. It’s a thing.”
She nodded her head in agreement. “I did that after the fire, until I was sent here.”
They then both laid in silence for a moment, which caused Spike to raise his scared eyebrow and look at her softly, yet quizzically, “Are we havin’ a civil conversation?”
Buffy lowered her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Maybe.”
“About our bet-”
She got up from the bed, “No, Spike.”
He stood up, standing next to her, “We-”
“I’m not going on a date with you.”
“Here’s the deal. We both won, yeah?” he negotiated as he moved closer to her. “I let you have a look in my box and you let me take you out. That has nothing to do with patrolling.”
“Spike-”
“We made a deal, Buffy.” he then pulled her against him. “Don’t tell me you’re a Slayer without honor.”
“I have honor.” she said softly, looking up into his eyes.
He watched her intently. “What is honor, then?”
“High regard or respect; personal integrity; reputation; privilege; used as a title for mayors and judges. Also, to accept something as valid.”
He chuckled. “You’ve been around my Da too long.”
Buffy shook her head and giggled. “No, I was in a spelling bee in the first grade.”
His eyes lowered to her lips. “Yes, I suppose you have honor. But you know what?”
She leaned forward, her eyes lost on his face. “Hmm?”
“You also have my-”
Whatever he was going to say was lost when Buffy’s door opened, showing her mother, “There you guys are… what’s going on?”
Buffy and Spike shot away from each other, Buffy red in the face and Spike trying his best to look innocent, “We were just talking, Mom.”
“Yeah, Joyce,” Spike hurriedly nodded in agreement, searching his mind for something to say. “I was just consoling her on her break up with Finn.”
Joyce looked at Buffy sympathetically, “You’re still upset over that, honey? It was a few years ago.”
Buffy smiled fondly, “I know. I just thought of something random about Riley and it set me off, but don’t worry, I’m pretty much over him. Actually, I’m taking a break from guys right now.”
Joyce missed when Buffy had pointedly looked at Spike.
Joyce laughed at that, “I’m sure you feel like that right now sweetie, but that’s what you said after Ford, and your crush with Owen and that one… what was his name?”
“Parker,” Spike supplied. “Had the nancy boy lookin’ hair an’ the-”
“Spike, I swear if you don’t shut up, I’m going to punch you in the nose.”
“An’ why is it that you always go for the nose?”
“Buffy Anne Summers! Are telling me you still actually hit Spike!? Even after the fight you had, breaking my living room window!?”
“No, that was before we became Slayers, but, see the thing is-” Buffy tried her best to back-peddle as fast as she could, but was saved by her sister walking past the open door.
“Mom, I can’t find my heart PJs ,” Dawn said, stopping at the doorway. “Hey Spike.”
“’Ey, Bit.” Spike smiled.
Buffy let out a sigh of relief as her mom turned to the younger Summers, “I’ll go help you find it, honey,” But Buffy’s relief wasn’t entirely in effect when the eldest Summers turned back to her eldest daughter and her step son. “This is the last time I hear about you both fighting. You both need to get along from now on. Now, I got the mail.”
“Good.” Buffy replied.
“Which included a reminder notice about Parent-Teacher night. Thursday. Which is tomorrow.” Joyce folded her arms over her chest.
“That's good.” Spike regarded both of the women.
“Which you both were planning on telling me about?”
“Oh, for…” Buffy looked sheepish. “The past couple of days.”
“Uh-huh. So, what do you both think your teachers are gonna tell me about?” Joyce watched both of the teens fidget.
“Well, I think they'll all agree that I always bring a pen to class, ready to absorb the knowledge.” Spike went back to his previous spot on Buffy’s bed.
Joyce arched an eyebrow. “And, uh, this absorption rate? How is it reflected in your homework and test scores?”
“What can you really tell about a person from a test score?” Buffy replied.
Joyce looked to her daughter. “Whether or not they are ever going out with their friends again.”
“Oh, that.” Spike frowned.
“Well, I look forward to meeting your principal.”
“Won't that be something.” Buffy muttered.
Joyce leaned against the door. “Look, guys. I know you know life is more than grades and homework and not getting kicked out of school. Just try, guys. You know I mean the best for you both.”
Buffy took a deep breath and let it out. “We’ll try.”
“Sleep tight.” Joyce smiled. “Goodnight, Spike.”
“Night, Joyce.”
“Spike, it’s okay if you call me mom.”
Spike gave her a soft smile. “I know.”
As soon as Joyce closed the door and Buffy and Spike were left alone, Buffy turned to Spike, “You are such a kiss-ass. And bringing up Riley?”
Spike rolled his eyes, “It was the best I could come up with. Somehow, I don’t think your mum would want to hear about the intimate dealin’s between us.”
“Whoa. Intimate? In your dreams.” She scoffed.
“You know, denial really doesn’t look good on you.”
“Spike, just go away.”
“Our deal?”
“Oh fine! I’ll look and see what’s in the stupid box and we’ll go out, demon-free.” She said as she rolled her eyes as he got up, then followed him to his room.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
As you can see, the story is what I would like to call ‘The Slayers’ verse of BTVS ‘School Hard’ but with a twist… but before you knock it, continue along and see just how different it can be… :)