The Protectors
By Heather Martin
Rated – R
Summary- The monks gave Buffy and Spike one night of fake memories. That would have been enough to change their lives. But when you add a glowing key in the form of an unborn baby, well . . . things wouldn’t just change, they would be turned completely upside-down
Disclaimer- Joss Whedon owns Spike’s eyebrow scar, his bleached hair, his crystal blue eyes, his manly arms, his muscular chest, his tight . . . *cough* Too bad isn’t it? But a girl can dream, right?
Spoilers- Starts during Out of My Mind. The entire Season 5, although I changed it tremendously to suit my own purpose
Getting close to Spike finding out the secret. : )
Chapter 9
The council finally left. Buffy thought she could finally relax. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep for a day and a half. Instead Giles hit her with a harsh look. Oh no, what did I do now? she thought.
“What key?” Giles asked.
Buffy opened her mouth.
“The fate of the world depends on it, I gathered. And you have it in your possession?” His palms hit the tabletop, which made her jump. Her eyes widened. Good God, he could be scary sometimes. “Don’t you think I should have been informed of this . . . this development in the Glory matter?”
She stared down at her lap. She should have told him. She didn’t because she had been trying to come to grips with it all. She couldn’t handle more turbulence in her life.
“I- I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He took a deep breath. “Tell me now. This key, where is it hidden? I hope that you don’t have it stashed under your bed. What does it look like? Any idea what it does?”
The mixture of emotions burst out in a burst of laughter. Tears trickled down her cheeks as well. She wiped them away. Giles watched her in shock. She shook her head.
“It’s not under my bed, I assure you. I take better care of it than that.”
“I hope so.”
Buffy lifted her head. “I carry it wherever I go.” She swallowed and hugged her stomach. “I kinda don’t have a choice.”
It took a moment for Giles to get it. When he did he sat down from the implication. He tore the glasses from his face.
“Dear lord,” he muttered.
“Yeah, my exact thoughts,” Buffy replied. “There are, or rather were, these monks against Glory. They declared themselves as protector of the key. This one I tried to help told me it is some transportation device. She wants to use it to go somewhere? I guess this dimension doesn’t meet goddess status. Glory caught up with them and they had to give the key to someone else for safe keeping.”
“You.”
“Uh huh. They sent her to me in human form.”
There was a long span of silence. Giles finished polishing his spectacles and placed them back on his face. He cleared his throat.
“I don’t know what to say,” he told her.
“Tell me about it,” Buffy said.
“Are you going to tell the others?”
“M-maybe. They’ll freak. I don’t blame them.”
Giles reached out and placed his hand on hers. His eyes were soft. “I want to apologize. I never should have treated you so distantly. . . “
“I didn’t let you down,” she said. “They created false memories about her conception.”
“You are so very brave to accept this burden. I understand why they chose you.”
Buffy squeezed his hand. “If you believe in destiny this is it. I have to take care of her. I want to.”
“And so you shall. With a little help from your ex-watcher.”
“Screw the council, Giles, you’ll always be my watcher.”
* * *
Mothers don’t like being nosy. It is simply their duty. They have to make sure their offspring isn’t hooked on weed, cigarettes, or booze. They lift the mattress while making the bed, sneek a peek now and then under the bed, and check your underwear drawer while putting clothes away. No harm done really. If they found anything it would be purely accidental.
Joyce placed the folded pile of Buffy’s laundry on the bed. She was about to exit the room when she halted. The baby book lay next to it, open, and enticing. Just a glance, she thought. Summers women were born with the curiosity gene. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes bad.
She expected to find sentences about gaining weight, morning sickness, fear, and joy. Instead she came across words like: key, God, and . . . Spike?
Joyce settled down and grabbed the book. She began to read from entry one.
* * *
The knock jarred Joyce out of her daze. She went to the door and opened it. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Spike.
“Hullo, Joyce,” he said in greeting. “Is Buffy around?”
Joyce blinked. “Um no. Sorry she isn’t.”
He stuffed his hands in his duster. “Oh, right.” He nodded. “I’ll be off then. Just tell her I stopped by, would you?” He turned around to leave.
“Wait, Spike!?”
He shifted back around and lifted his scarred eyebrow.
Mrs. Summers cracked the door wider. “Why don’t you come in and wait for her? I could make you a mug of hot chocolate.”
The vampire grinned. “That’d be right nice of you, Joyce.” He stepped into the kitchen. “Got any of those tiny marshmallows?”
“I’ve got a whole unopened bag,” Joyce said. She filled the kettle with two percent milk. Then she went to the cupboard and took down two mugs, one flowered and the other with a Halloween black bat on the front.
Spike hopped up onto a stool at the island. He tapped his fingers on the counter and hummed the tune to “I wanna be sedated”. When Joyce faced him he silenced.
“So, you want to see Buffy? Does it have to do with Glory?” Joyce questioned.
“No. A vampire attack. Nothing serious,” he replied.
“That’s good.”
He nodded.
Joyce tried not to stare. “So, you been keeping up with Passions?”
He smiled. “Course. Can’t believe what’s going on now.”
“Oh, yes, with Teresa. Do you think she is really dead?”
“Nah, she makes the show too interesting.”
Joyce put her hand in a mitt and grabbed the kettle off the stove. She poured some into the mugs. She got out the Nestle Quick chocolate mix and stirred some into the liquid. She handed Spike his. He took a sip. Afterward an expression of pure bliss spread across his face.
“No one makes cocoa quite like you, Joyce,” Spike complimented.
Joyce came to a realization then. He was simply a little boy wrapped up in a vampire façade. He was cute actually. The fact that he developed a chocolate mustache confirmed it.
“Spike, you might want to wipe your mouth,” Joyce advised.
He did, clearly embarrassed. He dug into his pocket and drew out his lighter. He flipped it on and off in his hand. He can’t smoke, Joyce thought. So he’s doing the next best thing. I bet he does it to convince himself he’s bad. She shook her head.
Just then Spike’s head jerked up. A few seconds later Buffy stepped into the kitchen. She froze when she spotted Spike. The slayer crossed her arms.
“What’s going on?” Buffy demanded.
“Oh, Buffy,” Joyce said. “Spike came over to see you but you were out.”
Buffy’s eyes darted from her mother to Spike and then back again. “So you decided to get all chummy?”
Joyce frowned. “I offered some hot chocolate while he waited.”
Buffy’s face remained hard.
Spike got up from his seat. “Thank you for the refreshment, Joyce. I can’t finish, though. Got important matters with your one and only.”
“No problem, Spike. Come by anytime.”
Joyce watched as the two blondes headed out of the room. She let out a sigh. She’d have a talk with Buffy later.
* * *
The slayer followed Spike to his black Desoto. He held the door open for her. She glared in response. Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing things for herself. Geez . . . She climbed into the car.
After he got in behind the wheel she swiveled to face him. “Where are we going?”
“Heard some commotion about a train massacre. Six dead from neck trauma. Haven’t heard?”
She shook her head. “I’ve-I’ve been preoccupied.”
Spike put the silver key into the ignition. He pulled out of the driveway. “Thought we’d take a look at the train. Play Nancy Drew or whotnot for clues. What ya say?”
Buffy shrugged. “I guess so. . . Sure.”
She leaned back and let him drive. She closed her eyes and listened to the rumble of the engine.
“You all right? Don’t need the heater or nothing?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
She winced when he began to sing softly. He tapped the stirring wheel. His taste in music was atrocious.
“I wanna be sedated. Yeah, I wanna be sedated. Do you like The Ramones?”
“Spike, shut up and drive,” she snapped.
To her relief he was quiet the rest of the ride. They finally arrived and Buffy hurried out of the car. She didn’t wait for her companion and headed into Sunnydale station. She stepped onto the platform before the train. Yellow caution tape blocked the entrance. She took a hand and ripped it. Then she entered the dark train car. She felt Spike come up behind her.
They entered. Luckily they both had night vision because neither had brought a flashlight. Buffy’s eyes ran over the tape that outlined where the passengers had sat. There were a few red stains on the seats.
“Not much to examine,” Buffy softly said.
Spike didn’t answer. She turned around. He reached up and snatched something from the cargo hold. She came closer and saw that it was a porcelain doll. Red material covered its eyes.
“Creepy,” Buffy commented.
Spike’s fingers dug deeper into the doll. “Buffy, I think you and your mum should pack a bag and come stay with me for awhile.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why? What does a freaky doll mea. . . “ Her eyes widened.
“Yeah. Dru’s come for a visit.”
“God, I hate that crazy hoe,” Buffy said.
Surprisingly Spike didn’t object to her name-calling. He stuffed the doll into his coat.
“Luv, seriously, come spend a few nights in my crypt.”
“Why do you care? There was a time you wanted to kill me. What changed?”
“I like your mum,” he simply replied.
“Yeah, but what about me? Why not let Drusilla come and do what you can’t?”
Spike’s head shot up. “Despite what you think, Summers, I’ve changed.”
She snorted. “What, that chip in your head? That's not change. Tha-that's just ... holding you back. You're like a serial killer in prison!”
“Not because of the sodding chip shoved up in my skull. I’m good now.”
“Angel was good. You’re still a soulless monster.”
Spike stared at her in silence.
Buffy started to leave. He reached out and took hold of her arm. He tugged her back.
“Something’s happening to me! I can’t stop thinking about you. And if that means turning my back on the whole evil thing-“
“Uh-“ Buffy moaned. She ripped her arm from his clutch.
“I lie awake every night and think about you.”
“You sleep during the day!”
“Th-That’s not the point! The point is I feel for you.”
“You don’t know what feelings are!” she yelled.
“This is real,” he forced. “I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you or the bit. I love-“
Buffy covered her mouth in horror. She spun around and ran out.
“I love you, Buffy! You can’t run away from this!”
She did just that.
_____________________________________________________
Next part, people, Spike will find out the truth. Promise.
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