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Chapter 3

Glen of Cloongallon, Ireland

Spring, 1602, a few days later

The slayer, the witch, and the watcher had all decided to put a plan in motion. They were out on a hunt this chilly and damp evening; a vampire hunt. One lone vampire; however this vampire was not your everyday, or every night, run of the mill vampire they were pursuing. Along with their leprechaun companion, the four of them had set out to capture this vampire only the evening after the lasses had the pleasure of running into the same demon that had saved Aelwyn the previous eve. Two run-ins in a close time frame were highly unusual.

For some oddity none could figure out, this particular vampire seemed to be helping them. Their intent was to speak to him, find out more about him, even if it meant they would have to trap him. They knew they would release him right away if he posed no threat to them or their community. And God forbid the council get a hold of him so no, they decided they were not going to hold him captive. Now to make him believe that, if and only if they found him.

The evening did not fair them that fortune. In fact, it was very quiet indeed; almost too quiet. Kyle was the first to mention it and then called it a night. They might have better luck the following evening.

They walked Brandubh home near the pass and headed back to the village near the Glen. Funny that the Glen was strangely quiet, but as they turned the bend, a commotion caught their attention just on the edge of the town.

The O'Reilly's barn was blazing, the townsfolk surrounding it and watching with bated breath, holding farm implements and other things not really related to farming in their tense hands. Pigs, sheep and cattle were running around wildly causing a raucous on their own. Kyle ran up to Seamus O'Reilly to find out what had happened.

"A creature, none like I've ever seen, in me barn, eating me fatted sow. A demon, I tell you, God protect us." and he crossed himself, grabbing his pitchfork tighter.

The watcher looked over at his charge, a silent order passing between them. Aelwyn stealthily maneuvered behind the mob of people, Gael trailing not too far behind.

At the back of the barn, she picked out a few loose boards and kicking them, found they easily gave way. A billow of grey smoke boiled out of the new opening she made and that's when she heard it. She thought she was imagining it until she looked up at her companion.

"Someone is in there. But it sounds human." Gael announced before grabbing a pitchfork for herself. Both girls plunged as much of their bodies in the trough of water next to the barn. Ael nodded, took a few gulps of clean air before ducking in through the opening.

The straw was burning intensely in an arc and it made it hard to see a thing. She heard the crying and wailing of someone very frightened but could not see them. Her eyes began to sting as well as her lungs from lack of oxygen. Just as she turned to head back out to fill up on fresh air, she tripped over something and landed face first on top of a very fat pig. A very dead, fat pig. Ael scrambled to her feet and ran to the clearing where Gael still stood with the pitchfork.

"Come, follow me. I think I may know where to find this person." Ael took the pitchfork, filled her lungs again before submerging herself into the blanket of smoke.

She found the pig easily, noticed the area to her left was on fire before feeling the tingling sensation in the pit of her belly. As she drew closer to the corner, a huddled form was cowering, hiding his face under his arms which were now beginning to burn from the close flames.

Ael quickly tossed the burning hay away from them and Gael ran over to the boy, patting the flames down with the bottom of her wet dress. He quickly looked up at the two of them hovering over him, knowing for sure that this was the end for him. His eyes wide, he began to scurry away. The girls grabbed both arms and hauled him up. They were helping him, saving him from the wretched inferno that would have surely consumed him and turned him to ashes. But what waited for him on the outside had him worried.

All three stumbled through the small opening, all falling on their hands and knees on the ground. The girls began to sputter and cough, gasping for new air to fill their burning lungs. While they were preoccupied, the young man began to quietly and cautiously shuffle up and away. This of course was halted as he found the leg of his breeches run through and pinned to the ground with a pitchfork.

"Blimey…ye almost got me leg!" The look on his face was pure exasperation.

"Serves ye right, tryin' to run off and ye not even giving us the proper thank ye's. Where did ye learn ye manners from? The dead pig in the barn?" Ael condescendingly asked.

He glared up at her, still struggling to free himself. "Ye're a right corker, lass. A spitfire, that's what ye be. Thank ye both ever so. Now kindly let me go on me way. Won't bother no one."

Aelwyn smirked as she shook her head back and forth slowly. Quickly, she leaned over and grasped the lad by the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet at the same time she dislodged the pitchfork from the ground. Before he knew it, she had him dangling above the ground.

"I know what ye are, so no, not letting ye go right at the moment. Come home with us, answer a few questions and then ye may go on yer way."

It was his turn to smirk at the lass. "Aye, and I should just trust ye to not run me through with that wooden stick you have concealed in yer vest? I know who ye are as well."

Ael lowered him back to the ground. "On my honor, I will not harm ye in any way. Ye will have to trust me. And I will have to trust ye."

"Aye, then so be it. Show me the way." He bowed to her as he extended an arm out to allow her to take the lead.

"Gael, please inform the O'Reillys we found nothing and tell da to hurry home." Ael asked the witch kindly.

The slayer reached out to grab the vampire's upper arm. "I'd rather ye walk next to me than behind."

"Hmmm, the trust issue is slowly dwindling away, lass." He jested with the slayer.

"This may be the biggest mistake of me life," Ael mumbled mostly to herself.

"Aye, that it may be, for either of us." He added.

~~*~~

Sunnydale, March 2002

The following evening

Buffy stopped by a familiar crypt door while making a run through the cemetery. She hesitated there, wondering if she should go in, just to say hi, she told herself, ask if he wanted to tag along.

"Here for a visit, luv?" His voice boomed behind her, causing the anxious slayer to jump and grab her chest as she slowly twisted around to glare at the obnoxious creature.

"You must really stop doing that. Sneaking up on people. You never know who will turn on you, attack you and slam pointy things into you."

He smirked loudly, clucked his tongue and winked at her. "Sounds like fun. Is that an invitation, luv?"

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. "You are such a…ahhhh, never mind. It's starting to sound like a broken record. And frankly, I'm getting annoyed at telling you all the time."

"Just trying to spice up your slayer doldrums. If you don't get annoyed by my sly antics or off the cuff comments, then I must be doing something wrong. And I don't think I should be trying to be someone I'm really not just for everyone else’s sake."

They smiled at each other, very rare that they could share a light hearted encounter nowadays, ever since their so called "relationship" was broken off only a week or so ago.

Buffy shook her head and cleared her throat. "I did just come by for a visit, but also to see if you wanted to patrol with me."

"Oh, everyone else have plans tonight? S'ok, I've prepared myself to always come in second."

"Spike, it's not…."

"Sure," he interrupted her before she could form a rebuttal as he walked towards her. "I'll go patrolling with you. Just let me put this stuff up; you can come in and wait…if you want."

He stood next to her in front of his crypt door waiting for her confirmation. She nodded as he opened the door, and together they stepped over the "threshold" only to stop dead in their tracks side by side. Neither had noticed the trip wire they broke as they walked through the doorway. Both were now standing there dripping wet, doused heavily with icy water from somewhere above them.

Buffy gasped and clenched her hands tight. "Cold, cold, very cold."

Spike huffed. "And wet. Very, very soddin' wet. Bloody hell," he growled. "Who's sick, little perverse joke is this? That wanker Harris out for blood for some reason?"

Her teeth began to chatter as the outside air blew in and hit her wet skin. Buffy wrapped her arms around her when she noticed her white blouse was not only very much see-thru but that anyone with a roving eye could tell she was definitely cold. She stepped out of the puddle she had been standing in just as the paper bag Spike was holding ripped away from the section he had a grasp on and plopped to the floor with a sickly wet thud. With another growl, he lifted his leg and delivered a back kick to the open door. It hit so hard when it slammed shut that the floor trembled slightly.

Spike, still grumbling as water dripped off of him, picked up the brown blob of a grocery bag and headed to the fridge to toss the six pack and extra bags of blood into it. Buffy grabbed a blanket that was casually thrown over Spike's chair and wrapped it around her shoulders as she sat down in it. She jumped out of it though when a roar reverberated through the crypt followed by many choice expletives. A loud crash had her turning around and staring at the vampire on a rampage. He was seething, body rigid, breathing hard, palms flat on the makeshift bar as he stared at the slayer, who stared back, eyes wide and mouth open even wider.

"Why'd you kill the refrigerator?" she asked without blinking an eye, no teasing at all in her voice.

Spike dropped his chin down to his chest, as she noticed his body began to shake. Buffy was hit with a feeling of dread, thinking something must be seriously wrong to upset him this much. She took a few steps toward him.

"Spike?" she called to him softly. Then she heard the soft chuckle as he lifted his head to look at her, merriment shining behind his eyes and lips curled up in a humor filled smile.

"Forgive me for killing the fridge. Didn't mean to. Just that some right bastard has gone and played a little joke on ol' Spike. All the blood I did have? Now pooling at the bottom of the…well actually now underneath the fridge."

"That's some kind of sick joke, isn't it? Who'd you piss off? Some demon?"

"Who knows, in this town it could be just about anybody. I just don't 'member pissing off anyone recently. Doesn't mean anything though. It could be somebody from a century ago, someone that's finally caught up with me. Could be someone from the other night even."

"Hmmm, is it safe for you to stay here? I mean, with the not knowing and…and…everything?"

"Nah, I should be fine. I…hey, you're freezing cold,luv. I've got some clothes you can change into, even some that aren't singed or smell like they've been blown up by a grenade." He smiled at her laughingly. She smiled back before turning away, feeling a slight bit of shame.

Spike made his way down into what remained of his downstairs and quickly returned with a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of black sweats. He even had changed his wet garments into dry replacements within the short amount of time he was down there. Must be a record, Buffy mused. Probably had lots of practice whenever he had to get out really quick.

She noticed his hair, messy and still soaking wet. She never thought he could ever look so cute and adorable with the mass of curls he now sported instead of the slicked back do he usually kept. His voice broke her concentration on the curly, blonde locks.

"Here you go. No shoes, no socks, though. Sorry but you'll have to walk home making squishy noises. Hey, better than catching pneumonia or having to go starkers."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." Buffy looked around the room for a safe place to change, somewhere out of eye range of a certain blonde vampire.

Spike noticed what she was doing. "Oh, I'll…here, I'll turn so you can…um, change."

He smiled shyly at her while turning to face the opposite direction. Buffy gaped at the back of his head before turning around. What was up with him lately, being all gentlemanly and considerate? She kept telling herself it was all just a ploy, an act to get her back. He was evil enough to stoop that low.

He always found a way to get to her, whether they were fighting like the enemies they should be or whether they were sharing their lives with one another. It was becoming an everyday habit now, running into one another, stopping by to say hi, patrolling with each other. He still annoyed the hell out of her, but it was more of a comfort to her now. She needed it; she needed him in her droll, monotonous slayer life.

He and only he made her out to be much more than a slayer and she felt it whenever she was around him. He saw behind the mask she wore, the walls she continuously built up and she didn't mind it. It felt nice to have a friend like him, a confidante. She secretly wished, hoped it could be more someday. Something more meaningful than what they had, where she wasn't using him and he wasn't letting her take advantage just to have a part of her with him. They both had too many issues to work through before that could ever become a reality.

She shook her head to rid her of all thoughts of Spike. It would never work and she would never be able to give him wholly what he wanted. And that would make her feel worse. So they would remain friends, slaying partners, workout buddies. When it got too hard, she would once again push it and him away, fall back and start again from the beginning.

She cleared her throat and told him she was dressed. He turned back to her and looked her up and down as if he thought she would be standing in front of him in all her naked glory. She caught the slight look of disappointment in his eyes.

"So, you are sure you will be fine here?" She asked him once again.

"Yes, I will be fine. I mean, where else am I gonna go?"

"Do me a favor, then." Buffy reached over and picked up her wet jeans, delving into the front pocket and producing a ring of keys. She worked at one and then held it out to him in her flat palm.

"What's this, luv?" he seemed surprised even though he had caught onto what she was doing. He just wanted to hear her tell him.

"A key to the house. Any sign of trouble, come and get me. Don't try and be a hero."

"I can take care of myself, you know?" Yet he gently took the offered key from her.

"We don't know if our trickster is human or not. Better be safe." Buffy grabbed up her wet clothes and headed for the door. Spike followed a bit behind as she opened it to step out.

"Buffy?" she turned to look at him. "Thanks for trusting me with this. It…means a lot." His voice drifted off into almost a whisper. She smiled at him and winked.

"Better show me that I can trust you with it, or else."

"Gotcha. G'night, luv."

"Goodnight, Spike." She spun around and walked towards home with a little more bounce in her slayer step.

TBC





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