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Stars in the Bright Sky by Lilachigh

Chapter 2 Up to No Good


With only two days to go to Christmas, a depressed Slayer now finds she’s no longer number one with her Vampire.


Buffy kicked Algernon Baden-Crombie III hard. Well, it was his tombstone actually, so hopefully Algernon wouldn’t mind too much. She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so angry.

Which was odd because recently, since Willow had brought her back from the dead, she hadn’t felt much of anything at all - happiness, anger, fear, sadness - except when she was with Spike when there was too much feeling and touching and sensation and - and that was the whole problem, of course.

How dare he shut her out! She’d a good mind to go back and kick his silly crypt door into pieces. And she could do it, too. How dare he!

‘So what’s he got to hide?’ she said out loud, kicking Algernon again. ‘I bet it’s something icky and disgusting. How dare he!’

She couldn’t think of any different words and was trying hard to hold onto her anger because underneath that there was a sore, unhappy place. She would never have believed he could shut her out like that. Didn’t he...a very small voice whispered in her head....didn’t he like her any more?

‘This is stupid,’ she said. ‘I’m going to go home, write my Christmas cards, wrap some presents and think happy, Christmassy thoughts. Jingle bells, jingle bells...’ she sang bravely and cheerfully until she realised her feet had led her back to Spike’s crypt.

She stood behind a tree, gazing at the door. Whatever he was doing, she had to find out. It was important because...because...she had to keep Sunnydale safe for everyone at Christmas.

Even if she didn’t feel Christmassy, others did. And if Spike was up to no good, then it was her job to step in and sort him out.

Buffy hugged the excuse close, forcing herself to believe it was the truth. She wouldn’t listen to the voice that kept saying, ‘he’s found someone else...he never really loved you....once he slept with you, that was it....you’re no good in bed....that was all he ever wanted....just sex...and perhaps he’s found someone who’s better at it than you.’

Suddenly the crypt door swung open and Spike stepped out, gazing round, head tilted: she knew he was sniffing the air, making sure there were no enemies around. He’d pick up her scent, but he knew she’d been outside the crypt earlier, so hopefully he would think that was all it was.

He carefully locked the door behind him and set off with his long, loping stride across the cemetery, coat flying behind him as he strode.

Buffy trailed him, being careful to keep a good distance behind so he didn’t see or sense her.

The streets of Sunnydale were still crowded with late Christmas revellers. Shops were brightly lit, carols were playing and a Santa was ringing a bell, collecting money for charity. A police car cut through the crowds and it was nice to know the law was out keeping order as well as her.

Buffy was desperately trying to keep Spike in sight, but it was difficult, without him spotting her. Then a bunch of laughing people, waving mistletoe at each other, barged into her and when she’d fought her way free, the vampire had vanished.

‘Buffy! Hey! Merry Christmas!’ It was Xander and Anya, their arms full of parcels and holly.

‘A joyous pagan sacrificial season to you and yours,’ said Anya enthusiastically.

‘Oh, yes, and, er, you..Xander, have you seen Spike?’

‘What? A big no, and an even bigger, hope I don’t. Why, what’s he done?’

Buffy stared round frantically. How could he vanish so quickly? ‘Oh, nothing. I just want to...well, keep any eye on him...in case, you know, evil thing...especially at Christmas, I expect.’

Anya put on her school teacher face. ‘You know, Buffy, there’s really no evidence that vampires and demons are busier at Christmas. We do have families of our own, you know. And everyone likes presents and drinking and feasting - ’

‘As long as the feasting isn’t on some one else, An,’ broke in Xander. ‘So, are you going to join us for frothy coffee and hot chocolate before you go home, Buff?’

‘No, I’m going to patrol first. Have fun. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you on Christmas Day!’

‘Okay. And mind how you go. Haven’t you seen all the police everywhere?’

Buffy nodded absentmindedly. ‘Yes, I suppose I have. I almost got run over by a cop car earlier. Why, what’s going on?’

‘Escaped killer in town, apparently. Being transported to the high security prison and got free when the van broke down. So just watch your step.’

When they’d gone, she wandered along the main street for a while, but as the crowds thinned, there was no sign of Spike. Then, suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she spun round. Vampire!

There, inside a shop, she caught a glimpse of blond hair and black leather duster. She sped across to the window and peered inside.

Spike was paying at the check-out. Well, at least he wasn’t stealing. Buffy strained her neck to see what it was the girl was packing for him.

Whisky. Well, that was normal. But there was bread and cheese going into the brown bag. And soup and chocolate and very strong pain killer tablets!

Why on earth would Spike need such a lot of normal food? She knew he ate more than any other vampire she’d ever known - he loved cookies - but bread and cheese? And why would he need pain killers? If there was one thing Spike could cope with it was pain. She’d never seen him take any sort of tablet before.

Coming to with a start, she realised Spike had swung away from the counter and was heading for the door. She spun around to move away but she was too slow. He was there - in front of her, raising that silly eyebrow with the scar.

‘Slayer. Out doing your Christmas shopping? Left it a bit late, haven’t you, pet. Thought you were on patrol. Or were you waiting for me?’

Buffy bit her lip. ‘In your dreams will I ever wait anywhere for you, Spike! I’ve just been... window shopping.’

She eyed his packages suspiciously. ‘You’ve been buying a lot. Got visitors for Christmas?’ she said, trying to make a joke. ‘Who is it, then Spike? Clem? Have you bought him a present?’

Spike frowned and gazed round at the dwindling crowd. She had the strong impression he didn’t want to look her in the eye. ‘Visitors? No, no one. And my Christmas shopping was done ages ago, Slayer. How about yours?’

Buffy shrugged as they fell into step, heading back out of town towards the cemetery. ‘Not so big on the whole Christmas scene this year. Dawn wants such a lot and the jolly, holly, Santa and reindeer and mulled wine round a log fire gig doesn’t inspire me much.’

‘Sounds sad.’

Buffy shot him a dirty look. ‘Sad? Not at all. Just - grown up. Christmas is for children. Everyone knows that. It’s okay for Dawn to be excited, but me, not so much.’

‘So no present for our poofter friend with the bad hair style in Los Angeles?’

Buffy ignored him. She had sent Angel a card, from her and Dawn, wishing him Seasonal Greetings. But no present. Not that she’d bought Spike a present, either, she hastened to remind herself. The little book of English poetry pushed to the back of her dressing-table drawer was just - a gift for herself, she decided.

‘I like Christmas,’ said Spike suddenly. ‘We used to have a big party on Christmas day after we‘d been to church. And it always snowed.’ He gazed up into the clear, dark, star-littered sky as if searching for a few errant flakes. ‘Sometimes I miss the English weather,’ he murmured, almost to himself.

Buffy thought briefly of the time it had snowed once in Sunnydale, then shut her mind to that and turned back to Spike. ‘Are you cooking dinner for Clem?’

They’d reached the door of his crypt and he stopped in his tracks, juggling his packages as he reached for the key in his duster pocket.

‘Not tonight, no,’ he said briefly. ‘I’m...I’m busy tonight.’

Buffy stared at him. He was going to do it again. He was going to shut her out! But why? Well, she certainly wasn’t going to beg.

He opened the door a little, then hesitated. ‘I’ve got a little something for Dawn,’ he said casually. ‘For Christmas. I take it you won’t want me round on the 25th, so I’ll drop it off tomorrow. Okay with you.’

‘Fine,’ she said tensely and stood, watching as he gave her a long, hard look and shut the crypt door behind him.

She heard the lock click, but it wasn’t that noise that she remembered as she turned away. As he’d swung the door wide, she’d heard groans of someone in great pain and smelt the one thing she could recognise anywhere - the sweet tang of blood!

to be continued





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