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Author's Chapter Notes:
Buffy faces the Scoobies, Giles and her Mom who drive her directly into Spike’s arms.
Time line:
Mid-May, 1998.
About 18-24 hours after sending Angel to hell; Mid-May, 1998, Buffy is a Junior in High School, (but has been expelled before completing 11th grade.)

**~**

Buffy was surprised to find the sun fairly high in the sky when she emerged from the mansion, about two or three in the afternoon, she surmised. She felt like she had been there for days – of course, she wasn’t sure what DAY it actually was. Maybe I have been here for days, she thought wryly.


She made her way to the hospital to check on Giles, but they told her he had been sent home earlier that morning and that none of his injuries were life threatening. She figured out that she had actually only been at the mansion one night; it felt like a lifetime.


Feeling that Giles was ok, she headed home. She really needed a hot shower and a change of clothes before she could face anyone, certain that the Scoobies had informed Giles of the events of that morning by now and the oh dear’s and Do you think that’s wise’s, along with scrupulous cleaning of his glasses, would meet her upon her arrival at Giles’ apartment.


Inside her house, Buffy called for her mom; not home – Thank God for small favors. She headed upstairs and straight to the bathroom. Pulling off her grimy clothes she paused to hold Spike’s t-shirt to her nose and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like him, smoky, earthy and sexy her mind added involuntarily. NO, NOT SEXY. CURSE BAD, she repeated to herself forcing the sexy thought out of her mind. Then she realized she was still holding his shirt to her face and swiftly dropped it on the floor. SEXY SPIKE BAD - CURSE BAD.


Stepping under the hot spray of the shower felt like heaven. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and just let the water run over her. An image of Spike trailing his fingers down her body as the water caressed her skin came to her mind. Her body ached for release and she brought her fingers down to begin stroking her clit. Her legs nearly buckled as tremors of electricity shot down them at the touch and she decided standing up right now wasn’t the best idea.


She took the hand-held shower head out of its holder and brought it down with her as she sat down, leaned back and spread her legs on the sides of the tub before she started again. Setting the shower head to “massage” she held her outer lips open with one hand and worked the pulsing spray against her hard clit. Her hips thrust towards it involuntarily as her legs trembled. She closed her eyes and tried to blank her mind, just concentrating on the feeling of the hot water hitting her most sensitive spot.


If I could just cum, I would stop thinking about Spike, she assured herself silently. I don't want HIM, I just need a release, that’s all. But, no matter how she tried, Spike kept popping into her mind.


His lips on hers, his hands on her body. Oh fuck, it’s just a fantasy – if it gets you off, then it will be over, you’ll be over this obsession with him, she thought ruefully and let it continue. His fingers on her clit, his tongue on her nipples, his cock pressing into her . . . She came hard, writhing in the tub, bucking against the showerhead and imagining it was more. “Oh God, yes, YES, SPIKE! FUCK ME SPIKE! JESUS! YES!”


After her shower, she felt some better. The bruises on her wrists and ankles were nearly healed and she’d managed to take the edge off her horniness with that unbelievable tub-gasm. She felt ready to face the music and headed over to Giles’.


When she reached the door she paused and listened. Yep, gang’s all here, she thought. She couldn’t make out everything that was being said, but definitely heard Spike’s name as well as her own being bandied about. Then Xander said something about “soul” and “Angel”. She wondered if she should just walk in or knock first. She decided that just walking in and making them abruptly stop talking about her would be way more fun, and, knowing how the rest would go when they did start talking again, getting a little fun now was of the good.


She opened the door and walked in quickly. “Hi guys!” she said brightly as everyone stopped talking and gaped at her.


Her mom jumped up from where she had been sitting on the sofa and ran to her. “Buffy, are you alright? I was so worried!”


“Mom? What are you doing here?” She looked around the room, confused as to why her mother would be involved in a Scooby meeting.


“When you didn’t come home I called Willow and she said Mr. Giles could fill me in on this Slayer thing you think you are. Apparently, everyone knows about this obsession of yours except me!”


“Mom, I. AM. THE. VAMPIRE. SLAYER. It isn’t something I THINK I am! It’s not something I chose to be – it CHOSE ME! Surely Giles explained this to you.” Buffy looked past her mom to Giles who was, of course, cleaning his glasses – she nearly laughed out loud.


“Indeed, Buffy, I have endeavored to explain all this to your mother . . ." Giles put his glasses back on and looked at her. “Are you alright?”


“Yes, everyone can stop asking me that, I AM ALRIGHT! I teamed up with my mortal enemy to kill my vampire lover – I’m sure everyone knows this story by now!” She looked around the room at the guilty faces of her friends who couldn’t quite meet her eyes.


“Indeed,” Giles spoke first. “And Spike, how is he?”


“Spike is fine, he has a soul now. Second verse, same as the first. Very sure you guys have covered all this without me.”


“And you intend to keep him as your, umm . . . friend, then?” Giles asked, taking off his glasses to clean yet again.


“Yes, I intend to keep him as my FRIEND. He helped me, he saved me – you were there Giles! You saw that he helped me, even BEFORE Willow souled him up. We would both be dead now if it weren’t for him! I think YOU should consider extending him a little gratitude yourself!” Buffy was starting to get pissed now. She knew this would happen, but it still got under her skin.


Her mom touched her shoulder. “Buffy, you’re just a girl. He’s . . . he’s much older than you and . . and apparently a vampire.” Her mom looked at Giles for assurance that Spike was, indeed a vampire. She was still having a hard time accepting the idea of it. When Giles gave her a nod, her mom continued, trying to be sympathetic. “Do you really think that’s wise after Angel?”


Giles continued with the "Spike-Bad" theme, a theme that she had just been singing herself at home just a short while ago, but that was her prerogative, not theirs. They hadn’t seen him like she had. “Buffy, you must realize that the enemy of your enemy, although they may make a good ally in the short term, cannot be trusted to be a friend once the battle is over.”


This last statement seemed to open up the floor to discussion and everyone started talking at once. She really couldn’t make a lot out of all the words that were flying past her. “Evil”, “tried to kill us”, “monster”, “vampire”, “lose his soul”, “Angelus”, “Spike” – it was just a flood of noise now.


“STOP! PLEASE STOP!” Buffy screamed.


The last words coming from her mother heard clearly as everyone else stopped talking, “You’re just a girl.”


Buffy was at the end of her rope, she backed up away from her mother to address the whole group.


“FIRST. Not ‘just a girl’ – haven’t been ‘just a girl’ for over two years now – I’ve been the Slayer. I’ve TRIED to be ‘just a girl’, but not so much with the girly when you’re stopping apocalypses . . . Apocali? . . whatever! . . every other week and kicking demon ass every night.”



“SECOND. I admit I made a mistake with Angel, but I’m not wrong about Spike. I’ve seen a side of him that you guys haven’t.” Buffy held up her hand to stop the chorus of dissention from her friends. “And I have every intention to keep seeing him and working with him. He’s strong, he’s resourceful and he’s a damn good fighter – he would be an asset to have on our side.”


“THIRD," she started, but was cut off by Xander making a comment about all the sides of Spike Buffy had obviously seen.


She glared at Xander. “THIRD,” she started again, “I finally figured it out. I’m supposed to be dead – was dead, in point of fact, could be dead again tomorrow. My time? Not only borrowed but mortgaged to the hilt! So, if I find someone that I want to be FRIENDS with or LOVERS with,” she stared defiantly at Xander for emphasis before continuing, “who makes my life easier, who can understand me as the SLAYER, then I will not shut him out because you don’t approve!"


Buffy softened her voice before continuing. "I love you all, but there’s a part of me that none of you can touch. Only another warrior can, I think maybe Spike can. It’s the Slayer in me and it’s just as much a part of me as cute clothes, designer shoes, hot chocolate and Mr. Gordo.” She had to make them understand, but wasn’t sure if they ever would – hell, she wasn’t sure that she really understood herself.


“Honey,” her mother started, “you aren’t any different than any other teenage girl with a crush on a dangerous older boy.”


“No, Mom, you’re wrong. I wish it was that simple.”


“Buffy, I didn’t want it to come to this, but I forbid you to see Spike any more, you’re grounded until further notice!” Her mother said it with her best "MOM" voice.


Buffy was incredulous, she nearly laughed out loud. Did any of them hear a single word I just said?


“Yeah, Mom, and I FORBID the next BIG BAD from trying to end the world! I FORBID the demons from being all demony and eating people! And the grounding thing? Didn’t work last year, either.”


Buffy turned on her heel and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her. She grimaced as she heard the wood of the jamb splinter when the door hit but didn’t slow down or look back.


She headed back to her house and quickly packed a bag. She didn’t think her Mom would be home too quickly. Surely all her friends would sit around and analyze the poor Slayer who had lost her mind, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She wrote a quick note and left it on her bed:


Mom,
I’m sorry but I can’t stay.
You know where I’ll be.
I love you,

Buffy




Chapter End Notes:
TBC . . . .
Your Feedback is like Godiva Chocolate for my soul . . .



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