Chapter Fifteen – No. 9 Wilton Crescent
Buffy closed her eyes and held onto the arm rest of her chair like it was a lifeline. The plane shuddered and lurched and she wondered for a hundredth time how she had let Spike talk her into this. Buffy wasn’t a great flier in the best of times and these were not the best of times.
Just twelve hours earlier they were all sitting around the apartment in Prague brainstorming on how to get over the border into the UK with the least amount of suspicion. Their usual method of Spike vamping out to scare the skin off various transportation employees was too conspicuous and the last thing they needed was for the rumor of monsters at a UK border crossing, one slip meant that they were stuck on an island with not very many escape routes. The identities Raj had created before the rescue of Alex were compromised, so official means were out. Buffy’s suggestion was to find a coyote; her reasoning behind that being: people had to be paying to be spirited into the UK in secret all the time, but Wesley had pointed out that anyone who charged money to smuggle humans into a country were too easily bought. Alex had offered to hide in a suitcase while they crossed the border but the cars were randomly searched on the ferry from Calais. Finally, Buffy had thrown up her hands in frustration and demanded to know how Spike had managed to get passed an angry mob last time. And he had told her.
“You fly? How do you do that? There’s no way to be sure no daylight!”
Spike had scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“I’m guessing my grandsire told you that.” He said.
Angel had. Buffy had just nodded, deciding against bringing up the circumstances.
“Peaches is afraid of the buggers. He’s never been one to go with progress and being so far off the ground gets him right up in his bonnet.” Spike said with an impatient wave of his hand. “But it's the best way of getting around the official-like borders.”
“Airplanes and airports are the best way to bypass official check points? I don’t think that’s true.” Wes had said skeptically. “Everything that gets on an airplane is incredibly well regulated.”
And Spike smiled a smile they were all really coming to hate, it was knowing, smug and usually lead to badness.
“That’s because you’re thinking of passenger jets.”
And that was how they got to be on a Cargo plane from Prague to London, sitting in strapped down recliners and helping themselves to whatever goodies were in the crates around them. The hold had no seatbelts, no windows and was almost unbearably cold but Spike had packed extra blankets from Thora’s fun house and the whole ordeal might have been halfway pleasant if it hadn’t been so bumpy.
Cargo planes, apparently, are sometimes chartered by mail companies and are loaded by airline personnel who work for the air port or work for the people who are hired by the airport and in all the paperwork and hubbub of packing everything into a plane it was easy to pass off as contract employees or supervisors--easy to slip in and out unnoticed. Cargo planes also tended to arrive in the earlier hours of the morning so that they could get packed onto lorries that would get to their destinations long before the rest of the world woke up.
There was security of course, But every alarm was set off by heat signatures so all it took was for Spike to waltz into any secure area first, disable the sensor and the rest could follow. Spike had actually told them that there must be some sort of unconscious symbiotic relationship because the security was a joke and an inordinate amount of comfortable seating was shipped un-crated.
They had explored the plane as they waited to for it to disembark, Buffy had found a new pair of shearling boots and tucked her fancy heeled ones into one of their suitcases.
All in all it was a great set up until the plane started to move. Suddenly the hold that had felt so large before now felt very small and Buffy was surprised how much the presence of windows and announcements made the turbulence easier to bear--because their abscence was accutely felt. She would have taken up Raj’s offer of some of the champagne he had pulled out of a crate if she wasn’t so worried about having to pee. The plane didn’t have facilities in the cargo hold and it wasn't as if she could just pry her way into the cockpit and ask to use their bathroom.
The plane hit some sort of air bump, juddered and dropped and Buffy felt her insides lurch. Thinking about a bethroom made her want to use the bathroom.
Uh-helpful reminder, stupid brain! Buffy scolded herself. Because pregnant slayers being shake and baked? not so good. It was definitely making her want to hurl something big.
Alex had pressed a bright pink souvenir ten gallon hat into her hands in case she needed to be sick. The slayer, however, managed to calm herself using Ayurveda breathing techniques, worrying the ornamental bird on the hat and thinking of ever more creative ways to skin Spike.
The thing about flying in airplanes, Buffy thought, was that usually, there were windows so you didn’t feel like you were sitting in a metallic tube being shot across the sky fast enough to pull the skin off your body. Usually, there were nice ladies wearing absurd uniforms offering libations and food and other comforts. They made announcements that told you when turbulence was going to happen or gave warnings about such things as take-off so that you weren’t suddenly pushed back in your seat. Usually planes had things like cabin heating and seat belts. Spike’s way of flying didn’t have any of those things. Spike’s way of flying made Buffy wish she had not asked him how to get to England.
She was glad to see that she wasn’t the only one. Wesley was sitting next to her and he also looked a little green around the gills.
Raj and Alex however were clearly having the time of their lives. While they were still on the ground waiting for take-off the two of them had been exploring the different packing crates. Now, Raj clearly had a good buzz going though he kept trying to hand off his champagne bottle to get other people as sloshed as he clearly was. Alex had found a fur stole somewhere. She had draped it around her shoulders and it clashed horribly with the t-shirt and tartan flannel she was wearing under her coat.
She and Raj were using the recline feature on the Lazy boys as a sort of quick draw duel.
The plane suddenly fell a few hundred feet and Buffy’s ears popped. She felt herself curse out loud.
“What was that, slayer?”
“I said,” she repeated. “that when my feet hit solid ground again I’m going to use your bones to make jewelry! Do you hear me, Spike?” she screamed. “And not fashionable jewelry! Mom jewelry!”
“I always did get on with your mum, luv!” Spike replied easily. He was positively beaming, sitting in his buttery recliner and watching Raj get progressively drunker and drunker.
Buffy was about to retort but she was distracted by Alex who had taken the bottle and drank deeply. Usually Buffy would have been all sorts of awkward trying to sort out her relationship with this girl she had known for exactly two days and yet was her daughter, but there was no awkward Buffy when she was this angry.
“Should you be drinking, young lady?” she demanded.
Alex shrugged she was a bit red already from just a few sips but was clearly trying to pretend it wasn't affecting her. “What? Worried about what I might do and where I might go? Duck out of this party? crash a few raves and then get a tramp stamp in an AIDS alley?”
All the sober adults gave her a weird look but Raj burst out laughing. Alex looked pleased.
“He thinks I’m funny.”
“He thinks he’s only had one bottle.” Spike retorted, he jerked his head at Wesley. “And here I thought you could drink, mate.”
Wes nodded smiling tightly. He sat tensed like a bowstring.
“Relaaaaaaaax, Buffs.” The younger, drunken watcher slurred happily. Buffy was starting to worry about him. And them if he drank anymore She wasn't sure if they could get far away enough from wasted-vomit. “This is basically international waters! Sky law states that she can totally drink as much as her little hybrid heart desires. She’s got a nice little bit in a nice controlled environment so she can see how nice alcohol is and have I used nice too much? I think maybe it's lost all meaning to me. Nice. Nice. Nice. NIce."
No one replied to him for a while and he petered off. Then a few seconds later he seemed to regain this train of thought.
"She's--" he pointed to Alex. "Learnin' how to handle it! Like a pro. She'll be a pro. She also needs to stop tap dancing because its starting to make m’head throb!”
Alex was seated in her own recliner and was not--in fact--moving. Raj grinned.
"So relaxxxxxxxxx, Buffy." He drawled.
“Don’t tell me to relax—“
The plan hit a spot of turbulence and they all bounced in their chairs. Buffy and Wesley groaned.
“This isn’t you first flight is it?” Alex asked as gently as she could, Buffy was in the kind of mood that could snap pretty quickly.
Buffy flushed.
“No! Of course not! I’ve flown lots!” she said quickly but relented when no one seemed to be buying it. “Okay so maybe not lots and lots. I went once to visit my cousin Celia in Chicago. Bathrooms were small, food was shitty.”
“There was food? On an airplane?” Alex exclaimed looking shocked. Everyone turned to look at her. She realized then what year she was in and grimaced. “er… spoilers?”
“Alex, you should be a little more careful about what you reveal about the future.” Wes scolded trying to look stern and failing and swaying a bit.
“Don’t worry so much, Oxford!” Spike said reclining his own seat and sinking down in to the leather. “Have a little bubbly.”
“This is so illegal.” Buffy piped up. “I’m just going to be the one that says it.”
That elicited a bark of laughter from the vampire. “Of course it’s illegal. But we lucked out on this ride. I’ve been in one of these on my way to Manila, with about a hundred crates of apples, never really got that smell out of the duster. Last time Dru and I were trapped for 10 hours with a drugged elephant. Let me tell you those things can get flatule-”
“I am going to put snakes in your duster, Spike, and you won’t know how many there are or if you’ve gotten them all!”
“You asked for the fastest and safest way to England.”
“Snakes, Spike!”
He chuckled but said nothing else until they touched down in the wee hours of the morning.
*****
Buffy had wanted to get out of the plane right away but Spike had held her back. Sure enough a few inspectors went around marking off the crates and checking who would need to come in first. They rotated their hiding places as other officials and people in coveralls came in to appraise how to go about unpacking
Finally people started carting things off the place starting, apparently, with the champagne. They hid behind a few larger crates toward the back of the plane everyone trying to be as quiet as possible except for Raj who had found an emptied out plastic jug of motor oil and was gleefully pissing into it.
Buffy sighed. “I think this is the classiest moment of my life.”
Alex chortled, but the men unloading the champagne had gone and they had a very short window to get off before the rest of the movers claimed different items in the hold. They found themselves in the middle of a deserted airfield. Naturally they all looked to Spike to take point. He lead them out of the open and behind a few hangars.
There was a chain link fence indicating the end of the airport. Spike looked like he was counting. Seconds later, he found what he was looking for because he yanked the metal links and they whined but eventually gave, creating a hole just large enough for them to sneak under. He lead them through a couple of large empty spaces, it was hard to figure out what they were for, and in the near oppressive cold darkness of the morning no one asked. They sprinted in the dark until they got to a few better lighted bits of the airport grounds. Spike managed to lead them passed the busy spots skirting a few official looking guys, which was a feat with a very drunk Raj blathering on and on about rabbits on top hats.
“Can’t risk being seen on the airport CCTV.” Spike said reaching out and pulling Raj into a hiding spot behind some pallets and a crate of what looked like airline food. He motioned to the rest of them to crouch beside him. “So we sneak on the underground from here.”
He indicated a tunnel that looked like it was made of those scissor trucks. He held up a hand for second and then waved for all the rest of them to go before him. They sprinted through two yards of brightly lit airport service road and then were safe uner cover of the maintenance tunnel.
“Minion, can you hear anything?”
“No one ahead of us.” Alex called back.
It was a short walk they came to a door. Spike pushed through it and then kept it open urging each of the company out onto a narrow ledge.
“Keep pressed against the wall.” The vampire warned. “There’s a train coming.”
There was a sudden rumble and a train came crashing into the station maybe a foot from Buffy’s nose, Spike pried the door open and they made their way inside. The cabin was empty except for a few tramps sleeping in the corner, the little group expected stares but the denizens of the London Underground had seen much more than well-dressed criminal elements sneaking onto a train and just went about their business
Buffy scowled and threw herself into one of the seats. The cold train-voice informed her to alight at this stop for something or other but everyone was too distracted by the flight and adrenaline. Although it was testament to the amount of times they had been in real and present danger than smuggling people into a country barely even phased her.
Raj was not offering one of the homeless people a swig of his champagne and the grizzled man started to make an awful sound and looked like he was choking on his own vomit. When he noticed this Raj started whaking him on the back until Wes physically dragged him away. Alex was trying not to giggle and Buffy glared at Spike.
"Snakes." she promised.
*****
Even though it was nearly dawn by the time Spike lead them out for the station there were still people stumbling across the streets. They had managed to find that golden hour when the sloppy, late-night revelers were heading home and the most dedicated city financial brokers were trucking in to get a sneak peak of the Ang seng.
Spike lead them away from the main road and Buffy looked around at all the pretty row houses and private gardens. This was a whole world away from the places that they had been staying in. The last flat in London had been on top of a Chinese take-out place that was delicious but made everything smell like onions and soy sauce and Thora’s place was in the warehouse district of Prague, and it didn't really have much by way of plumbing. It also looked like a morning-after advertisement when the sun came up. This, however, was quiet and deserted in that nice way that really quiet fancy suburbs were. The streets were cut with parks and lined with the kind of townhouses that reminded Buffy of the Mr's Higgin's house part of My Fair Lady. Clearly she was not the only one surprised, Wesley was looking at Spike in frank askance and Raj would probably have been too if he wasn’t leaning heavily on Alex and attempting to make her sing with him.
Spike turned a corner and onto a narrower street with smaller brick houses. He stopped short and gestured towards one a few doors down. It was innocuous enough, yellow brick, garage door, but no décor, no flower boxes or lively paint jobs. Alex steadied Raj against the brick. He motioned for them to press against the wall.
“There’ll be a nest of vamps in there. " he said. Then he turned his attention to Buffy. "Fancy a spot of violence, pet?”
Buffy shrugged. “After Momoe the hobo almost yakked on my favorite new boots. I’m totally down for a little old fashioned havoc. I’m blaming that on you by the way.” She directed the last bit to Raj.
Raj protested. “He was telling me about goat herding in Romania.” He said. “Mosha? What was his name? Molar? He was my friend! Like my best friend! Or he could have been if we were allowed to have a little more time together!” he attempted to glare at Alex and Wes. "We could have been like Bert and Ernie! LIke Murtagh and Riggs! Like--like--"
“Like alcohol and poor life choices?” Alex suggested with a smirk.
“May be best if boy-wonder sits this one out, yeah?” Spike said mirroring Alex’s smirk.
“Sit it out?” demanded Raj. “I want to fight! I can fight! I'm learning! I punched Boris!”
He was referring to the second train they took when Raj nearly picked a fight with a grizzled Russian immigrant who smelled like cabbage and could easily have crushed Raj into powder.
“Yeah and we had to throw him off the train so he wouldn’t retaliate.” Buffy said. “Consider yourself benched, reebok.”
Raj peered at her confusedly for a second and then looked down at his feet. “Reebok! Like my shoes!”
“Should maybe someone stay behind and make sure he, you know?” Alex suggested waving her hand vaguely.
"I don't know!"
Alex ignored him. "Tried to get himself involved?"
“Nawwwww, it’s all posh here, innit!” Raj said. “And if all you fighters think I can't fight well then fine! I won't! I’ll just wait with the bags. And if someone comes round I always have my high-pitched and audibly effective squealing.”
“Right.” Wesley said with a wry grin. He rummaged around in the cases for stakes and a few daggers taking care to be as quiet as possible.
Once they were all armed Spike lead them to the door.
“Follow me. We'll have a few seconds before they can react proper.” He said, he kicked the door in and hurried up the flight of stairs.
The nest consisted of a little more than a half a dozen vamps crammed into a shabby little living room. Buffy dusted one before anyone had even really registered they were being attacked. But once they realized what was happening, she could see why Spike wanted the element of surprise. All of them were huge.
Buffy fought off two large red-head vamps with buzz cuts while Spike leaped over a large black guy who tackled Wes. Buffy hurriedly jabbed a stake straight through this heart and he exploded into dust. She was quickly pulled into a melee with another large dark haired vamp whom she made quick work of. SHe looked over her shoulder to see Wes was grappling with someone in the kitchen-area and Spike had just dusted two of them and physically pulled another off Wes to stake it.
Across the room Alex was fighting off three. Spike was right; she was a whirlwind--her fighting style was unlike anything Buffy had seen before, it consisted of a lot of grappling and using her lower-body to throw vamps twicer her size to the ground. She didn’t seem to need to touch the floor at all. There was a lot of acrobatics that Buffy frankly thought was unnecessary--but fun to watch. Her momentary distraction cost her and the other vamp she had knocked down at recovered and dove at her middle. She was able to turn in the last second and protect her abdomen, but the action cost her a favorable attack position.
“Lexy, stop dancing and help me out!”
Alex hurriedly plunged a stake through her opponent's heart and the vamp exploded into dust. She then jabbed the same stake right through the heart of the vamp who she had thrown to the floor and he exploded into dust. She then twrled balletically kicking the last vamp she was fighting in the face and throwing her stake right through the heart of the one top of Buffy.
“Losing your touch, old lady?” She said reaching out a hand to pull Buffy up.
“I was distracted.” the slayer responded with a scowl, but she accepted the lift.
In the kitchen Wesley finally managed to get the upper hand and a second later they heard the vamp dust.
That was it. They had gotten them all, all except for the demon leader who was a scrawny and water-y eyed, Spike held him against the wall with a hand around his throat. Buffy had not noticed the vamp in the melee.
The vamp squirmed in his grasp but then Spike vamped out and he stilled.
“Good god, your Lo-”
Spike narrowed his eyes.
The smaller vamp in his grip cringed and fell silent.
“You made minions, Morton?” Spike said in a low, dangerous voice. He was all master vamp now, there was no trace of the Spike who had cracked jokes and told stories about elephant farts. He shook the minion a little.
“The house needed tending to, your lor—”
“Is that what I told you to do, Morty?”
Morty flinched at the name and then timidly shook his head.
“But you did everything else that I asked of you?”
Spike let him go and he slumped. Spike looked like he was about to kick him but he paused.
“Of course, sir.” Morty said looking oddly dignified. “We’ve kept it ready, lo-sir”
“Any other minions I need to know about?”
The vampire known as Morty shook his head. Spike hauled him back up to his feet and looked him up and down.
“Right.” He said. “Good to know.”
He held up a stake, Buffy expected Morty to flinch or fight back but he just stood there watching Spike and looking resigned. Spike signed and dropped his hand.
“Go.” He said.
Morty looked like a drowning man offered water. “My—lo—William –I”
“Just go, Bromley.” Spike said with an inscrutable look on his face. “Go to Wherewell house, I don’t give a fuck, just go.”
Morty—Bromley—whoever he was shrunk down and scuttled away. Spike turned on his heel to face Wesley and Buffy daring them to say something about him letting a vampire loose but the look on his face kept them silent.
The lights suddenly came on. They all crouched into attack position but it was Alex who had apparently flipped a switch.
“Not bad.” She said appraisingly looking around the room. It was a moderately large living room and kitchenette divided by a small table. There was a hall way heading off towards the back probably leading to bedrooms. “One bedroom. Not bad at all. Where are you guys all going to sleep?”
There was a sudden clatter that sent everyone back into defense positions but this time it was Raj looking much more stable on his feet than he had a few short minutes ago.
“Bathroom!” he yelled sprinting down the hallway.
Alex rolled her eyes. “Well, if this is where we’re staying I’ll get the bags.”
She disappeared for a few minutes and then she came back with their suitcases.
“It’s a bit small.” Wesley observed. "But It'll do for a few weeks."
There was a sudden flush sound and Raj exited the bathroom.
“Loo works.” He said. “So just there an improvement already from Thora’s party palace garden hose and large plastic tub.”
Buffy glanced down the hallway from whence he came.
“Is there a shower in there? Because I know a slayer that is not using exposed piping anymore! Or that sad little cubicle with the grease smell and no space to turn around.”
“It’s not much bigger.” Raj said keeping a hand on his rumbling belly.
“Fooey!” Buffy said looking put out. “I really don’t know how were all going to squish our way in here.”
“Kitchen is actually a kitchen, with a microwave.” Alex said trying to brighten the mood a little bit.
“Spike?” Wesley had been quiet until then, Buffy realised that he had been watching Spike. Spike who was uncharacteristically quiet. “Spike, was that an old minion?”
Spike nodded absently. He was looking out the window so dazed Wes had to basically slap him to bring him back down to earth.
"Yes." Was all he said.
*****
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had a feeling he knew where they were going. He had had an inkling since the second they stepped out of the Underground Station.
When Spike had lead them through the streets of Belgravia the feeling only got stronger. It had not escaped his notice that the vampire with whom Spike shared some history was the only regular sized person in a sea of over-large bulky minions. Clearly they were large for a reason, they were thugs, Spike had been upset that the vampire had even made himself minions so Morton or Bromley was someone important from William’s past. He had also noticed the half stammered titles that Spike tried to cut off.
“Spike?”
Raj and the girls were examining the new hideout with interest, but Wesley knew that this could not be their final destination. He had suspected this about Spike from their very first meeting, like knows like. There was a cadence to the vampire's voice, a way of doing things that made his background more and more apparent. The song had been an experiment but the vampire hadn’t shied away from it.
“Spike?” he repeated waving a hand in front of his friend’s face.
“Sorry.” Spike said shaking his head a little and snapping out of his reverie. “Sorry. No. I’m sorry, luv, this isn’t the place we are staying.” He paused as if unsure of himself. But then seemed to steel himself. “This isn’t the place, follow me.”
He made his way back down the stairs back in his daze. Buffy and Alex traded looks. Wesley was the first to go after Spike he gave them a meaningful look.
“God fucking dammit!” Alex said, frustrated. “Someone else is on porter duty.”
Buffy took one and handed Wes the other. Wes felt his arm buckle a bit, the suitcases were far heavier than either the vampire or damphyr made them appear.
“Language,” the slayer said teasingly as she passed the teenager to follow Spike.
Now that the lights were on they saw that there was a door at the bottom of the stairs that ended up leading to a large empty space, a few windows displayed the graying sky. It was a garage, clearly. He lead them to the other side into a door that lead to a courtyard and they gasped. It was lit by the street lights, the back side of one of those stately town houses they had passed earlier.
“Wow.” Buffy said as the pushed open the French doors that apparently lead to a kitchen done completely in white marble and smooth cherry wood. Spike flicked on the light switch. The kitchen was immaculately clean but looked as though it had not been updated in years.
“Not too Downton Shabby.” Alex said with an appraising grin. She looked triumphant until she saw their blank looks and then sighed. “Spoilers.”
Raj grinned a little and Alex shot him an exasperated look.
“This is especially hard for me because you would especially like that 'spoilers' reference.”
"I don't think the word 'spoilers' counts as a reference."
"It's not. It's the way I say it because of the wibbly wobbly- oh nevermind."
Wesley studied the room carefully, it didn’t look like a Victorian kitchen, there were little bits of updated machinery, not all modern appliances. There was no microwave and the kind of stove you used stove black to clean. It looked like bits had been replaced at different times but nothing after 1950 as far as he could tell.
As they went from room to room, it was just as Wesley had expected. Everything looked old but well-kept; like period rooms from museums. All of it was solid old world furniture, chintz and dark wall-paper and here and there an exotic flourish like a japanese screen or an INdian window flourish. He realized a few seconds into the tour that Spike had left their midst. The former watcher could only assume he had gone upstairs.
Spike was in the parlour.
“This place is amazing. Have you seen the paintings? Where did Spike go?”
Buffy had followed him up the stairs. She had opened her mouth to say something but Wes pressed his finger to his lips and inclined his head towards the room behind him.
Spike was sitting on a Louis XVI sofa and so deeply in thought that a bomb could go off right now and he would scarcely notice. He was holding him erect and graceful, and quite uncharacteristic of him despite all the new data that had come to light.
Buffy made to go to him but Wes held her back and shook his head
“Perhaps it would be best if you were to take Alex and go upstairs and see if the bedrooms are as well-kept as the rest of the house?” he suggested. “I think that Spike needs a moment.”
She hesitated, casting another worried glance at Spike. Raj came up behind her and steadied himself on her shoulder. Wes looked at her meaningfully as Raj stumbled over to him instead. Wesley proped him up.
“We’ll be right behind you.”
She nodded and gestured for Alex, who was only climbing up to the ground floor, to follow her to the bedrooms. Alex glanced over at Spike and then between Raj and Buffy. She opened her mouth to ask something, but seemed to think better of it and just quietly followed Buffy up the stairs.
“What do you think is up with him?” Raj whispered, a little bit buzzed but clearly not as sloppy as he had been a little while ago.
“I think Spike knew this place would be safe because no one, not her majesty’s government, not the council have managed to find it in over a hundred years.”
Raj’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”
Wes nodded.
“I do actually.” He said looking back at the vampire who had become his friend. “Spike’s come home.”
*****
Nothing in the place looked how Buffy pictured a Victorian house to look, but thenher refereces in this case were Pride and Prejudice and the Haunte Mansion at Disney Land, so she wasn't exactly calling her self an expert.
The staircase itself was very pretty, the second floor had what looked like a ballroom complete with parqueted floors. Alex, in a burst of teenager, had sprinted ahead of her to find the best bedroom. Buffy traded a long-suffering look with Raj who had just gotten to the landing.
He grinned. "I don't know how she has the energy to choose. I could just collapse into the first bed I see."
"Ooh, do you think that all the beds will be all historical?"
Alex's head appeared from the staircase above. Both Buffy and Raj groaned to each other and trudged up the stairs.
"All the beds are sans sheets!" Alex called from somewhere above them.
“I think the servants quarter in places like this are usually at the top floor.” Raj said jerking his head up towards the top floor. “I’ll go and see if there are linens and things. Be right back.”
Buffy’s eyes bugged out at the mention of servants.
“Human Spike had servants?” She demaned as Raj headed off ahead of her.
“So you’ve managed to figure out why he’s taken us here I trust?” Wesley's voice came from behind. He hurried to catch up with her.
Buffy opened the door what looked like a grand ball room, now rather musty but generally clean.
“Yeah.” She said. “I got the memo. I sorta saw it coming, I mean upper-crusty Giles accent, Oxford Drinking songs, Add it all together and I basically spells duh.”
“So you see the house but don’t think servants?” Raj piped up from above them. He was coming down now with an arm full of white sheets.
Buffy ignored the friendly jibe and turned to Wes. “He hasn’t moved at all?”
“No.” Wes replied. “We’re clearly safe here for the night, the minions must have been keeping the place habitable for the last hundred years.”
"I've found pillows and blankets and other good things in a linen closet upstairs." Raj said. "I had a friend who lived in one of these growing up. They're surprisingly similar."
"So it looks like, housing-wise we should be good." Wes said.
There was something in his voice that alerted Buffy to the fact that he was not done. She nodded encouraginly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Wes shifted his weight when it was clear Buffy was waiting for him to continue.
“Er, well, So we could conceivably just leave Spike to whatever reverie he requires to er… process being in his human home which could be quite, er, awkward.”
“Awkward?” Buffy demanded.
“Well, Angel, when he was first turned—he” Wes paused. “He killed his entire family. Buffy, we have no idea what Spike has done. We were never able to ascertain his real name. There is very little information on his human life and early years, even in the Watcher's archives. This lack of any concrete facts about himself is probably why he considered this place safe.”
“Uh-huh,”
“And he may need time to process this.”
"Uh, no." Raj said almost cutting Wesley off. "You could go on and on about giving him space and then having tea like good strapping British men but, I think Buffy should talk to him."
Buffy’s eyes widened.
“Are you kidding me? That would be a whole world of no.” she said with as much finality as she could muster.
“Spike is a ranter.” The darker man persuaded. “He needs to be able to talk about it to someone. I’m really not sure why Wes thought it’d be best to leave him to stew in the first place.”
“Not about this he doesn’t.” Buffy said giving Raj a weird look at his reading of Spike. “He’s all guarding his real life with his unlife, you think I'm going to go down there and he's going to want to just share?”
“But surely he’s spoken to you about his past?” Raj pressed.
Buffy had to look away from the two eager watchers. She tried to think of when Spike had ever spoken about his human life and was coming up blank.
"I think I liked you better drunk." She said acidly.
"Never?" Raj pressed.
She violently wanted to punch him, but managed to hold herself back.
“Spike and I talk about slaying and weapons and-and- Dawson’s Creek! We don’t talk about real things and Spike is definitely mum’s the word about human-Spike! Or human William or whatever!" She turned her attention to West. "You two are all chummy and drink-y; I vote you talk to him!”
Wes glanced towards the stairs worriedly.
“Buffy, this is way more personal than—anything we've--it’s his human-side. I mean, I've been able to ascertain certain details, but you’re his—his—his—”
She folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence mostly to see what British word he would use instead of baby-mama.
He went in a different direction.
“His family.”
Her defensive posture dissolved.
“I’m his-I don’t know." She said, even though she knew it was true. "Alex is his family.”
Raj and Wes exchanged looks.
“Alex is a girl he met yesterday.”
She knew they were right. She hated that they were right. She and Spike had been through hell and back together, there was no one else who could go and talk to him. It had to be her and she knew it--despite how little she wanted to go down there, Spike had brought her to his home, the place he had kept hidden for a century to keep her and their children safe. She steeled herself, and pushed past Wesley.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi! I'm back. I'm so sorry! I know its been a very long time and there is no excuse bu after this chapter you'll get why it's taken me so long to write the next one and I wanted to have that at least somewhat done when I posted this one. Let me know what you all think!!
Enjoy!
>Petra
Enjoy!
>Petra