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Chapter Eighteen

“Wait.” Spike stopped when they arrived home. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I’m sure it will be okay.” Buffy caressed his hand with her thumb.

“Yeah, when da sees me an’ brandishes a stake in my face.” he scoffed.

“Well, did Giles do that when you guys had nightmares come to life?” she tilted her head.

He regarded her carefully. “No… he was very supportive. But that wasn’t entirely real.”

“Like I said, I’m sure everything is going-” she did get to finish her sentience because the door swung open, revealing Giles.

“Thank God you both are okay. It’s been hours…” the older man noticed the state of the teenager’s clothing.

They both were wet and muddy from head to toe, along with caked dried blood on their clothing and various parts of their flesh. While Buffy’s hair was mated to her head and partially on her face, Spike’s was curly and almost brown due to the dirt and mud mixed in it.

Joyce, seeing the two Slayers, grabbed her daughter and pulled her inside to give her a deep hug, “My baby, oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Buffy mumbled into her mother’s shoulder.

“We were attacked.” Spike told his father as his eyes shifted to the floorboards of the porch.

Giles nodded in understanding, and headed back into the house. “Well, I’m glad you both made it out unscathed. As for the situation with Darla and Drusilla…” Giles turn to see his son not moving from his spot. “Spike?”

Giving a heartfelt sigh, Spike walked up to the doorway and placed his palm on the invisible barrier. A silent tear fell. “It’ a funny thing really.”

Both Giles and Joyce stood there, stunned silence with shocked disbelief.

Buffy extracted herself from her mother’s embrace. “Spike you can come-”

“Don’t,” Spike said shortly. “I’m not letting you endanger yourself and the others.”

“Oh please-” she rolled her eyes.

His eyes narrowed. “You were there when I ‘woke up’.”

“I knew what I was getting into.” she tilted her head, unconsciously revealing the bite mark on her neck to his gazed.

His eyes flashed yellow. “Slayer.” he said huskily, reverently, kissing her softly, but still passionately, careful to not cut her with his incisors.

“Spike...” she moaned, arching her hips against his hand, is other unsnapping her jeans and pulling them down to pool at their feet.
“I swear, Buffy, if you think I’m gonna-”

“Why don’t you come into the house and prove it?” she then put her hands on her hips, smiling triumphantly.

Spike blinked, confusion on his face, then in realization, glared at her. “Well, great just let a killer into the house.”

She rolled her eyes as she turned towards the stairs, “Goodnight, Spike.”

Giles opened the door further as Spike walked in, the invisible barrier giving away. “Do you have your soul?”

“Don’t know,” Spike shrugged as he followed in Buffy’s direction, which his room was next to hers. “I’m locking myself in my room until we find out.”

“Oh no you’re not.”

The short words of Joyce had both son and father turning to face her.

She tilted her head, her arms crossed, a perfect picture of an older Buffy. “You are going to school in the morning.”

Spike gave her a look. “I think it’s now beyond pointless-”

“You are finishing school and that’s final!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was after school as the Scoobies all gathered in the library. Willow was checking to make sure the crossbow was in working order. Tara was looking through books to see if she could find a spell that would help them find out if Spike had his soul, which they all had a feeling he did after his rant about not wanting to drink any human blood, to which Buffy threw the stolen hospital blood in his face.

“Well, fine starve then!”

“You insufferable bitch!”

“Well, you’re like who you chose to be with!”

To which that statement as Spike left to go to a dark room to get a nap in, due to being up all day and having to duck and dodge around the opened windows and sunlit hallways, Buffy explained to everyone the… edited version of the pervious night. At that, Angel was the one to research on the prophesy with Anya, many books displayed before them on the table.

Jenny had the duty of getting wood for the stakes that Cordellia and Xander making, whittling away, arguing on less important matters as to who would end up winning over the ‘Epic Love Battle’ that was Spike and Buffy.

“I’m telling you, Spike loves her and-” Xander when to say but was interrupted.

“And Buffy won’t let him touch her, even with a ten foot pole.” Cordellia concluded a-matter-of-factly.

Buffy ignored her friend’s bickering, willing away the flush that was treating to present itself on her face. She raised large sharp machete, then slammed it to the table. She was preparing a vegetable tray.

“For three nights the unholy ones scourge themselves into a fury,” Giles lectured on, reading from a book. “Um, culminating in a savage attack on the night of St. Vigeous.”

“ Does anybody remember when Saturday night meant date night?” Xander asked absently.

“You sure don't.” Cordellia said flippantly.

Xander narrowed his eyes. “Uh, hello? My girlfriend is sitting not five inches away from me.”

“She is kind of right,” Anya said, not looking up from her book. “If it’s not saving the world on a weekly basis, we’re off having sex. We hardly have time to go out.”

“Ooo!” Buffy exclaimed suddenly after looking at the clock on the wall. “Parents start arriving in an hour. Okay, so, um, banners are in place, the lounge is comfy... What am I forgetting?”

“Punch?” Tara reminded her.

“Punch,” Buffy nodded. “I need, I need punch!”

“My fingers are cramping,” Cordellia stopped her work to examine her nails. “How long have I been doing this?”

“Three minutes.” Angel said, sitting back to rub his temples from the headache he was having from having nothing to look at besides words, most cryptic, and others unreadable as they were in a different language.

“So, can I go now?” Cory continued to whine. “They don't need this many stakes. I mean, if this female Drusilla is as creepy as Buffy said, it should be over pretty quickly.” That statement had Buffy glare to which the cheerleader gave her a sympathetic look. “We're still all rooting for you on Saturday against Darla and Drusilla. I'd be there for you myself if I didn't have a leg wax.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and put the machete on the table. “You guys hold down the fort. I'm punch bound. Oh, and make sure Spike gets fed and is up in time for the Parent-Teacher Night.” She then left the library. As soon as she was gone Xander and Cordellia both reached over and grab something off of the vegetable tray. As if having a sixth sense, Buffy stuck her head back in the door. “No!”





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