Chapter Three
At Buffy’s insistence, as soon as Joyce returned from her trip she took Buffy in for X rays of her broken arm and leg. The doctor made no comment as he checked her well-healed ribs and looked at the X rays of the broken bones that also seemed to be healed. He looked inquiringly at Joyce and Buffy to see if they were going to volunteer any information as to how bones managed to knit themselves together in less than 2 weeks, but he was greeting with identical innocent looking “dumb blond” smiles and gave it up with a sigh.
“All right, Ms. Summers. I’ll cut those casts off right now and you can begin physical therapy tomo-“
“That’s all right,” Buffy interrupted him. “I, uh, I have my own...uh...trainer to help me get strong and flexible again. Just get my casts off, please.”
Shaking his head at her stubbornness, he agreed, saying, “Well, since you’ve only been in the casts a couple of weeks, you probably haven’t lost that much mobility anyway. I guess you’ll be fine.”
“Oh I will be!” Buffy assured him with her best cheerleader smile.
She had her mother drop her at the Magic Box on the way back from the doctor’s so that she could let Giles know how much better she was. She was amazed to see that the shop seemed full of customers. A closer look showed her some familiar faces and she frowned when she realized she was looking at a delegation from the Watcher’s Council.
“Well, this can’t be good,” she muttered as she came the rest of the way into the shop.
“Ah, Ms Summers,” one of the tweed-clad men said with pseudo cheerfulness. “How good to see you again!”
Buffy was sure she was supposed to know his name, but drew a complete blank and looked at Giles for assistance.
“Yeah, likewise, I’m sure. What do you guys want now? Am I in trouble again?”
“You might say that, Ms. Summers,” the first man glared at her, deploring her lack of manners. “We are here to discuss Glory and your possible lines of defense.”
“Oh!” Buffy was suddenly much more cordial. “Well, what did you find out about her? How do I kill her?”
There was a certain amount of throat clearing and feet shuffling among the group until Buffy’s obviously growing impatience forced a reply.
“She is a god,” one of them said flatly. “We don’t know how you kill her. We’re not sure it can be done.”
“Excuse me? She’s a what? Please tell me you meant to say ‘a dog’ and just mixed up your consonants.”
“I’m afraid not,” a dark young man with a bookish look to him stepped forward. “She is very old and from a race of hell-gods. She is looking for a mystical key that can be used to open a portal and release her to return to her hell dimension. Unfortunately, opening the portal will also permit things from that hell dimension to enter our world. Very unpleasant things,” he added unnecessarily.
“And she needs this...key...to do this?”
“Uh, yes. She requires the key, which, for some reason she seems to think you are protecting.....” he paused to allow Buffy to enlighten them, but when she didn’t he went on, “And she only has until the end of this month to use it. After that, it will be another thousand years before the portals will be lined up again.”
“So,” Buffy thought out loud, “All we have to do is keep her from finding the key till the end of the month, and then we’re home free, right?” She fixed them with a lethal glare. “Or is there more?”
“Well, only that she will undoubtedly be extremely angry if she doesn’t get back to her home...”
“We’ve already had the pleasure of seeing her lose her temper, thank you very much. I’d rather kill her.”
“Yes, quite. Well, we will continue to look into that possibility....” His voice trailed off as he melted back into the crowd of tweed jackets.
“Do you have a plan, Ms. Summers?” one of the interchangeable watchers inquired.
“Hide the key, kill anything that tries to get near...it, and find a way to kill the skank. That’s pretty much it.” Buffy stuck her lower lip out and dared them to challenge her plan.
“And how do you intend to do this,” the first watcher insisted on knowing.
“I’m not quite sure,” Buffy admitted. “But we’ll come up with something,” she brightened.
“WE?”
Buffy rolled her eyes at the startled group. “Yes, WE. I have two very powerful witches here, an experienced Watcher, and....and....some other help,” she finished more quietly.
“Would that other help consist of a vampire that is unable to kill humans?” one of the men inquired with a frown.
“It might,” she muttered, unsure of their reaction to Spike’s being part of the plan.
“Is that wise, Ms. Summers?” the darker man inquired. “After all, even if he is harmless, he is a vampire....he could still provide the hellgod with information—“
“Spike would never do that! He loves D—“ she swallowed hard as she realized how close she had come to revealing Dawn’s secret.
“I don’t think he would do that,” she continued firmly. “If for no other reason, than he’s just too stubborn to give her what she wants. I trust him.” As she said that, she realized with shock that it was true. She did trust Spike. And had trusted him for months.
“Is this William the Bloody we’re speaking about?” the young watcher inquired angrily. “The Slayer of Slayers? You TRUST him?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw a mousy looking, tweed-clad woman’s head coming flying up when she heard Spike’s name. She looked at Buffy intently. “William the Bloody is still here? In Sunnydale? Do you know where can I find him?” she asked eagerly.
Buffy looked the other woman in the eye and asked suspiciously, “Why would you want to? He IS a vampire, as your buddies here have so kindly pointed out.”
“Oh, I know! He’s one of the few master vampires left! I did my thesis on him. And...I met him when we were here last year for the...well, when we were here before. But I didn’t have a chance to speak with him for very long. I should so like a chance to sit down with him and hear about his life.” At a raised eyebrow from Buffy, she amended, “Well, his unlife, I suppose would be more accurate.”
She looked at Buffy hopefully and asked, “Will he be here later? Do you think I will get to see him?”
Before Buffy could answer, a warm, deep voice came from the door to the training room.
“I’m right here, luv. You can see me all you want. Or all of me you want,” he said with a leer.
The woman whirled to look at Spike, leaning against the door jamb with his thumbs in his belt loops, long fingers splayed along his hip bones. He gave the watcher a smile that oozed sex and said, “Haven’t we met before, luv? Linda, was it?”
“Lydia,” she breathed as she remained frozen in place, unable to take her eyes off the lean, muscular blond and his penetrating blue eyes.
With a quick glance at Buffy, who was struggling to control an urge to backhand the female watcher all the way back to England, he took Lydia’s elbow gently and offered, “why don’t we step in here, pet, and you can ask me anything you want while the Slayer and your....colleagues....suss out what to do about that Glory bint.”
Mouth still hanging open and eyes still focused on his, Lydia allowed herself to be led into the training room by the charming vampire. The other watchers stared after her, aghast that she would so willingly go unarmed into a room with one of the most dangerous vampires on the planet. The only one that seemed at all willing to join her, was the openly gay Percy, who stared enviously after them as they disappeared behind the door.
“M-Ms Summers,” one of them stammered, “Is that at all safe? Will Lydia be all right in there?”
“Oh, LYDIA is quite safe,” Buffy gritted through her teeth.
(But I know an annoying vampire who’s going to get his ass kicked!)
An hour later, just as Buffy was sure she couldn’t tolerate another “Well, perhaps... “ “It’s entirely possible...” “ We’ll need to research that...”, the group of Watchers finally admitted they had very little left to tell Buffy about Glory, aside from the fact that she appeared to be invulnerable. As they prepared to leave, Percy hastened to the door of the training room to tell Lydia – and to get another look at Spike. As he reached the door, the dark haired watcher asked Giles, “What is that room back there?”
“That is our training area,” he replied. “Where we will begin getting Buffy back into shape now that she’s--“
“BACK into shape?” The question rang out sharply.
With a sigh, Giles explained to them about Buffy’s mishap with the boulders, including Spike’s contribution to getting her out safely. They looked at her intently for several minutes, then demanded abruptly, “We need to see her training. We must know if she is not up to the task of—“
“I’m up to whatever is needed,” Buffy growled, having reached her limit of Council tolerance. “But I’d be happy to go a few rounds with you if it would make you feel better.”
Flinching back from the obviously eager Slayer, he said, “No, not with me. But we would like to see you spar with the vampire. That should give us an idea of how recovered you are. We also wish to see the chip in action, if you could arrange it.”
Buffy started to refuse, ready to point out that Spike could not possibly fight back without setting his chip off; and that she didn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily just so they could see the chip fire. Before she could finish her remarks, the door opened and a giggling and flushed Lydia emerged, gazing adoringly at Spike who was leaning toward her and whispering in her ear.
“No problem!” Buffy exploded, grabbing Spike’s arm and throwing him back into the training room. “Watch how well I can handle a vampire when I need to.”
Spike glared at her from where she’d thrown him on the floor, then kipped back to his feet and stood directly in front of her.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded, leaning forward and meeting her furious eyes with his own gold-flecked glare.
“The council wants to see us fight,” Buffy ground out. “So fight, vampire!” With that, she threw a punch at his head that he barely dodged, only to follow it up with a leg sweep and a flurry of punches to his head and body. He was able to deflect most of her strikes, but quickly realized that she was seriously trying to hurt him. The council members watched, thunderstruck as the two lithe blonds flowed around the room. The fight looked like a choreographed dance as the Slayer threw punches and kicks that the vampire anticipated and evaded as best he could.
Spike didn’t attempt to throw any punches, but he did block Buffy whenever he could. They had sparred often enough that he had a pretty good idea what sort of defensive moves he could make without triggering the chip. However, her obviously very real anger was making it more and more difficult for him to counter her attack.
When one of her punches slipped past his defense and bloodied his nose, he vamped out and rushed her, taking her to the floor. Before any of the horrified watchers could react, he screamed and rolled off clutching his head and moaning. Buffy stayed on the floor, shame beginning to work its way through the angry haze that had filled her when she saw Spike flirting with the besotted watcher.
As she reached a tentative hand toward the moaning vampire, Giles began ushering the curious watchers out the door, telling them he was sure they’d seen enough to know that Buffy was in fighting shape, and that the vampire was harmless.
Lydia lingered in the doorway, looking very much as though she’d like to comfort the injured vampire; but one look at Buffy’s narrowed eyes and she squeaked and ran out.
When the room was empty and the door closed, Buffy edged her way closer to the immobile vampire and muttered, “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t answer, just rolled his head to the side and looked at her coldly.
Buffy looked away from his angry face and began picking at some lint on her pants. As her breathing returned to normal and the adrenaline that had been fueling her furious attack on him left her body, she began to realize that she had really overworked her unstretched muscles and joints. She rubbed absently at her calves and thighs, until her arms began to ache as much as her legs did.
After several minutes of trying to stretch and rub the aches out herself, she heard Spike give an exasperated sigh and he pulled her roughly over to where he was now sitting up.
“Come’ere you silly bint. You should have known you couldn’t push yourself like that when you haven’t moved those muscles in weeks.”
As he grumbled at her, he began to knead the muscles in her arms and legs, working the tightness out one muscle at a time. Buffy stiffened at first when she felt his hands moving over her body, but she soon realized he was intent only on relieving the pain in her muscles and joints. She relaxed then and closed her eyes, allowing his cool hands to soothe the aches and stiffness from her body. Without realizing how she got there, she found herself lying on the mats while Spike continued to knead her muscles until she felt like a melting pool of jello.
As the tightness left her body and it was no longer necessary for the vampire to knead and rub, his touch turned to gentle stroking and his hands began to move into areas not stressed by the fight. Buffy felt his cool fingers sliding over her sides and up her shoulders and into her hair. She was enjoying the sensations he was creating as he gently ran his hands through her silky hair and along her arms. Her breathing became faster and she felt her pulse speed up as his touch became even softer and more like a caress.
She rolled over slowly and looked up at him with half-closed eyes.
“Feels good,” she whispered as his hands slid around to the front of her arms and brushed the outside of her breasts.
She could feel his hands beginning to tremble as he fought to maintain the distance he had promised her. He abruptly pulled them away from her body and sat up straighter.
“Good,” he rasped. “I’m glad it feels better. Can’t have the Slayer all achy and...tight...” He caught his breath as she reached a hand out and gently touched his thigh.
“I really am sorry, Spike. I was just...” she stopped, not sure what she was about to say.
“You were just jealous,” he smirked at her.
“As if! Full of yourself much? I was just sick and tired of listening to those morons drone on and on about nothing and...and...I...” She stopped again, unable to keep up the pretense in the face of his skeptical eyebrows.
“What the hell were you doing in here with her for a hour?” she demanded.
“I was softening her up to see if I could find out more about what they know,” he growled. “Didn’t know you were gonna go soddin’ apeshit over it.”
“I did NOT go ‘apeshit’ over it!” she replied indignantly. “I might have been a little...concerned,” she said, adding more softly, “You were in here for a really long time.”
“You don’t really think I’d do something...anything...with a silly bint like that with you right in the next room, do you? Do you think I’d do that to you, Buffy? Do you?” he asked anxiously, brushing her hair back.
“Well, I don’t know. You ARE evil and I don’t know what kind of boyfriend you are. Not that you’re my boy friend!” she hastened to add as his face lit up only to close down again when she qualified her remark.
He shifted away from her slightly and said with a trace of pain in his voice, “That’s right, Slayer, I’m not. You have a boy friend, as I recall. Big, ugly fellow. Thinks he’s the boss of you. You remember.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she mumbled. “Or I will when I decide to forgive him for trying to tell me what to do.”
“Tell you what, pet,” Spike said quietly. “When you do forgive him? And you’re all ready to kiss and make up?”
Buffy looked at him curiously, wondering where he was going with that thought. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his eyes.
“You think about how you felt seein’ me flirting with that mousy little watcher today, and you multiply that by about a hundred times. That should give you some idea what I’m gonna be feeling when you go back to shaggin’ your soldier boy.”
He dropped her chin and turned away, throwing over his shoulder as he went toward the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. I promised Dawn I’d help her with her history again tonight.”
Buffy stayed sitting on the floor for several minutes thinking about what she would be doing to him when she got back together with Riley. She groaned softly to herself.
(I didn’t ask him to fall in love with me. It’s not my fault if the fact that I have a boyfriend hurts him. It’s not my responsibility. I never gave him any reason to.....)
A snarky voice in her head said quite clearly, “Oh yeah, you never gave him any reason to think there was anything between you but friendship. What are a few kisses and orgasms between friends? Why you give Xander blow jobs all the time, don’t you? You put your tongue down his throat every chance you get. “
Telling her internal voice to “shut the hell up!” she got to her feet and followed Spike out of the Magic Box.
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