I just found out I got nominated for Best Author at Love's Last Glimpse. Whichever one of you lovely readers did that, you have my thanks. I'd love to know who did it. . . . so I can thank you personally.
[A/N: I just want to thank you all for being so patient and for all your lovely reviews. Your kind words mean a lot to me. Okay. So can anyone tell me how come the first thing Angel always does when he goes “bad” or loses his soul he puts on leather pants? Leather pants aren’t necessarily evil. . . . anyway. Another thing is soul-free doesn’t necessarily mean emotionless – it just means (in my opinion) that there is no emotional attachment to any “bad” or “evil” act – no guilt, no remorse, nothing. There might however, be some affection towards others, but that is minor. The title is from Cindy Lauper’s tune (but really, its just a cliche and the lyrics don’t really apply) and the quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect]
Previously: Everyone’s back at Revello Drive, except for Willow. Angelus is on his way to Sunnydale, determined to remove the one obstacle to his soul’s return. . . . this picks up shortly after the last.
Book Two. Chapter 14. True colors
Though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man,
it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain.
Much Ado About Nothing, act I, sc. iii
the pulse of the hero beats in unison with the pulse of
nature, and he steps to the measure of the universe;
then there is true courage and invincible strength.
Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
He decided he was going to keep a running body count. This way he’d know it was a good day by the number of drained humans he left behind. Today was shaping up as a good one – well technically it was night.
Three dead in Los Angeles. Two dead on the highway. And who knew how many more after he got to Sunnydale.
This was fun. The kind of fun he hadn’t had in years. Not even the last time – well Drusilla had been . . . he closed his eyes for a moment, sending a call through the bond. She might recognize it. Hell, she might even come . . . and wouldn’t that be another kick. If she did – if Drusilla did come, he’d be assured of some very fine cocksucking. Not that Drusilla wasn’t a good lay, but her true talents were elsewhere. The best benefit of not having to breathe – hours upon hours of oral sex. And Drusilla was the best – well second best cocksucker he’d ever had the pleasure of being with.
So if Drusilla responded to his Sire’s call, good. Even if she didn’t that was also good. Either way – because once he’d taken care of everything in Sunnydale, he would have all the time in the world to find her.
Teach her not to disobey a Sire’s call. Discipline Daddy’s little girl.
His sneer turned into an outright smug leer.
Oh yeah.
He was looking forward to some discipline. Maybe he’d keep Buffy alive while he disciplined Spike – remind him of some things he’d apparently forgotten.
Flipping the radio stations, Angelus finally found one he liked, singing very badly and uncaring of that, he drove on toward Sunnydale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leaving everyone in the kitchen, Dawn dragged Casey out onto the back porch, without a word or sparing anyone else a glance.
Plopping down on the top step, Dawn tucked her long legs under and looked up at Casey. Sitting down next to her, he stole a glance from the corner of his eye. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” The tone of her voice made that statement the lie that it was.
“I was worried, you know. Called you earlier and no one answered” he shrugged a bit, playing with the frayed knee of his jeans.
“We had to go out for a bit. Had to get stuff.” Thinking quickly, she said, “Wesley’s place was destroyed in a fire last night and his, well, everything is gone.”
“That sucks.” Casey leaned back, resting his weight on his elbows. “How’s Spike?”
He’d thought it was a simple question, but instead of answering, Dawn just started quietly crying all over again. ‘Dawn? I’m sorry. What happened? Hey c’mon. He’s okay, right?”
Dawn couldn’t answer him. She was trying so hard not to cry that the tears just kept falling.
“Dawn? Is he gonna be okay?” Casey was really concerned now, so he leaned up and touched her back.
And she crumpled, resting her head against him, her hands fisted awkwardly against his stomach. “He’s my . . . like my father, you know, my big brother and he’s like . . . he’s . . . He’s the strongest person I’ve ever known and the stupidest and he could’ve gotten killed last night and he was trying to protect me and . . he’s a jerk, you know?” Taking a hiccupping breath, she went on, “he’s Spike, you know, he’d do anything to keep me safe and those wa. . wankers that hurt him should die and they should all just freaking die.”
Casey put his arm around her shoulder, just holding her, listening to her until she finally couldn’t talk any more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wasn’t really awake, more like drifting in a haze, especially since Wesley had come in and taken the sprog. At least he thought it was Oxford. Could’ve been his brother Gordon. . . no, Gordie died when he was eight, wasn’t him. . . Wasn’t Ripper. . . Spike knew his brain was fried. Morphine was great. . . . bloody great good stuff for pain. Itchy no more. Some stupid tune was running through his brain and he couldn’t remember the damn words. Where’s Buffy? Didn’t like letting her out of his sight, not since she’d come back. . . his girl wasn’t gonna get hurt again, not ever. Sunshine she was, light in his dark . . given m’everythin’. Love her. Can’t get that damn song outta m’head. Bloody tune.
Humming only slightly off key, Spike thought he was dreaming when he heard her voice calling his name. “Buffy . . . my Buffy” he chuckled, imagining she was kneeling on the bed, her hands smoothing the sheet and pulling up the . . . . hey. “Buffy? Not dreamin’ am I?”
She giggled a bit. His ramblings were actually cute and she wondered if she should tell him that he’d said all of that out loud, including the bit about his brother. “No Spike, you aren’t dreaming, but it’s a good thing for you all those thoughts were about me.”
“Love you kitten.” His words were drawled, each one drawn and husky, sending shivers down her spine. “F’r’ever. Always. ‘Til we’re ol’ and gray.”
Despite his almost drunken state, Buffy knew he hadn’t meant that to be cruel. “We aren’t gonna get old. You won’t age and I’ve got an early expiration date.”
“Nope. Not gonna let you go alone. You go, I go. Pair. Mates. F’rever.” He pulled her close, his arm lacking its usual strength. “Love you kitten. Gonna grow old. . . figger it out. Love you.”
She found herself listening more to the sound of his voice than his words, but somewhere in the back of her mind, Buffy heard them. And as crazy as it sounded, she believed him. He’d come up with some crazy, insane, hair-brained idea and somehow he’d make it work. Her head was against his chest, her face in the hollow of his throat, his arm clamped around her body. She kissed his skin and Spike felt the ripples warming hm.
That damn tune was back in his head and he couldn’t help humming it.
“Spike? Do you realize you are humming Patsy Cline?” He could feel Buffy’s smile against his skin and he didn’t care what caused it.
“‘S a good song.” He didn’t care, it was just the damn thing was in his head and he couldn’t shake it. “Heard her sing it once, jus’ b’fore she died. Nice voice.”
They lapsed into silence, the only sounds drifting up from downstairs and the muted voices from everyone in the house. Everything was hushed, the October breeze ruffling the curtains on the open windows and the moonlight just starting to spill in through the glass. Her arm curled up around his shoulder, the other one resting against his injured right arm, her hand worming its way underneath his shoulder almost of its own volition. Spike’s good hand began running up and down her back, his fingers sometimes getting caught in loose tangles of her hair.
There hadn’t been many moments like this in her life, where she was just content to sit still and be – there’d always been something else to cause a distraction, some other thing needin her immediate attention. Even with Riley, she hadn’t been able to really relax, to trust in what they had enough to just let go. Come to think of it, had she ever really trusted Riley? Not the same way she trusted Spike. Because despite all the good things, Riley had done some really, really bad and hurtful things to her – in fact, their whole relationship had started out with lies, on both their parts, but she wasn’t supposed to tell people about being the Slayer. The cheating on her didn’t help Riley’s cause either. Sleeping with Faith while they’d been body swapped – that was so not good that, even now, almost two years later, it still hurt. The vamp whores? No . . that was not good either. That was so far from good it was in another country. And the bit with him blaming her for going to the whores? She wasn’t quite sure how that worked, because in her mind, it had still been cheating. You don’t cheat on your partner, you either split or you work things out.
Spike was humming again. She wasn’t sure this time what the song was, because she didn’t recognize the melody at all, but apparently it was one he remembered. His chest was rising and falling again in time with her own breathing. She wondered if he knew he did that or if it was just his body’s unconscious way of adjusting to the closest person. She kind of liked the idea of him breathing in time with her, no matter who else was in the room, made them more . . . joined. Or something like that.
Somehow the universe was playing a huge joke on her because the truly evil vampire, the one without a soul, the self-professed Big Bad, was the only guy she’d ever been round who hadn’t lied to her. Not once. Not ever. Even Giles had lied to her. And Xander’s lies? She could write at least a chapter on Xander’s lies - starting with the little forgotten moment when he’d tried to rape her, and then lied about not remembering it.
The man lying in bed with her had not ever lied to her. He’d been threatening, angry, violent, but never ever had he lied to her about anything. Not his intentions, his plans or his feelings. He valued honesty, which was just even more ironic, because demons weren’t big on truthfulness. Most of them anyway.
His eyes were closed and he was just lying there, enjoying the peace and quiet. There was no one that mattered but the two of them and he didn’t care what else was about to happen. What was coming for . . . he felt it. . . that unconscious instinctive call, the one sent out through the blood line. Fuck. Angelus. He hadn’t forgotten, but in light of his own situation, he’d pushed the issue of Angelus aside. Bloody bastard comin’ here. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to disturb the peace. . . “kitten? He’s headin’ this way. Comin’ for us.”
A heavy breath blew across his neck, warming him yet chilling him at the same time. ‘Sort of knew that. Figured he’d take out his people first.”
“No, sweetheart. He’s on his way now. Need to get Oxford and Glinda up here. Need to talk about this.” Spike drifted for a long moment, long enough for her to think he’d fallen asleep, so his voice startled her, “should get the bot out patrolin’. Maybe the whelp can go w’it.”
Buffy laid there for a few more minutes to see if he was going to say anything else and when he stayed silent, she asked very quietly, very strongly, “how much would you have to take to be up and around?”
He knew damn well what she meant and he didn’t want to get into this now. Not tonight. Not again. He should have known this wasn’t settled. “Too much. Don’ ask me again.”
Oh he was angry. She could feel it. His entire body had tensed up and she could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he held his temper in check. Getting up from her spot, Buffy placed her hands on either side of his head, staring down at his face, noting the softness of his gaze as he looked up at her. “Spike. I . . don’t want anyone else with me for this. You and I can do this together, he’s not strong enough to take both of us. . . and he’s alone, right? No one’s with him. . . “
“Near as I can tell. He” and he hesitated a bit, reluctant to admit to her that he could feel this, “used the Sire bond callin’ to Dru, but he’s the oldest of the line. . . we all feel it.”
Another deep breath blew against him “Right then. So he’s alone.” Thinking a minute or two, she tried to remember everything about Angelus. “He won’t come for us right away – he’ll try to pick us off one by one right?”
“Yeah. No one goes out near dark alone. No one.” Thinking hard, Spike said, “rather you keep Niblet home, not let her out a’all.”
“Good idea.” Then in a rush, “how. . . if you drink again tonight and again all day tomorrow – how soon will you be up?”
“Will you not let this go?” God she was a stubborn bitch.
“No. I’m not going to until you give me a better answer.” She got that look in her eye he hated, that Slayer bitch on wheels look, the one that made him want to slug her.
Closing his eyes and praying for patience, Spike ground out, “three more good feedings, or so. Not much more than that, all right? Happy now?”
Her left hand cupped his cheek. “Look at me, Spike, please?” Her thumb brushed over his lips, tracing the lines, her eyes searching his face. “Spike. . . Slayer here, remember? I’ll be fine. I need you to be fine also.”
“Buffy. We have time to wait. He won’t come except to taunt us, at least not right away. We’ve got time for me to rest a bit.” Thinking a second, he said, “m’promise, kitten, he wants us scared enough to make mistakes. ‘M not making any.”
His good hand brushed away a tear and he pulled her down to his lips. “Love you. Now go get Oxford and Glinda.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anya had Connor now, his head resting on her shoulder, while Tara made the final preparations for dinner. Wesley was questioning Xander on what he remembered of Angelus last time, while Oz listened, sometimes adding his own comments.
Deciding not to wait for Buffy to come downstairs, Tara set out plates and transferred full bowls to the counter. Sticking her head out the door, she realized Dawn was crying and Casey was a bit overwhelmed.
“Dawnie?”
“Hey” the younger girl wiped her eyes and pulled herself away from Casey. “Sorry. Guess I’m tired and . . sorry Case.”
Smiling at her shyly, he said, “I’d be a really crappy boyfriend if I complained. Don’t worry about it.”
Dawn ducked her head, a blush spreading across her face.
Tara found herself smiling at the two of them. “Dinner’s ready, you’re welcome to stay, Casey.”
“Thanks. That’s cool.”
Giving them a few minutes, she slipped back inside, to find everyone eating, including Buffy, who was trying to talk and eat at the same time. “No one goes out alone, unless its broad daylight. If its close, we travel in pairs. We need to come up with some kind of survival . . self-defense thing so that if he does get one of us, we can get away.”
“You mean like crosses and holy water?”
“Yes Anya, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“Emergency kits. And we all have cellphones, right?” Buffy was gesturing with her fork, trying to eat as fast as possible.
“I want one of these. This is wonderful.” Anya looked at Xander. “Can we have one please?”
“One what?” Xander was suddenly very afraid of what she was going to ask for.
“A baby. I want babies Xander. Can we have one now?”
A very pained look crossed his features, something akin to a grimace and embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?” He threw a quick look around the room, but no one was actually willing to meet his eyes.
“Why? Why can’t we talk about this?” Anya was at a loss. What was wrong about talking about having babies?
“The timing isn’t right, Ahn. Maybe we could talk about this later, after we get home, okay?” He was desperately trying to change the subject, anything to get away from this topic.
“Fine Xander Harris, you always want to talk about things later. What about when I want to talk about things? Does it matter to you that I want to talk about this now? Or that I want to talk about this in front of Buffy?” Anya bristled when he tried shushing her, moving away from his gesturing hands.
Xander took hold of her arm and Anya pulled away from him, misjudging the strength of his grip and she teetered off-balance, trying not to lose the baby or fall at the same time, and she was in real danger of falling hard when Wesley reached out a hand, bracing her against him.
“Xander!? What are you doing?” Everyone stared at him, while Anya got her bearings back, trying to comfort the scared and crying baby. “What is wrong with you? Can’t you see I had the baby?”
Anya moved away from Wesley, thanked him for helping her, then purposely turned her back on Xander and went into the living room to sit down. Her legs were shaking badly and she couldn’t get a deep breath. What just happened had scared her, badly. She needed to do some thinking.
The other four adults shared a look over Xander’s bowed head, none of them willing to comment too closely on what had just happened.
“I didn’t mean to grab at her.” His low voiced comment elicited no response, because not a one of them could really believe what they’d just witnessed. It had looked, from almost every view, like Xander was going to shake Anya, whether she had the baby in her arms or not. And that was not good.
There was a long painful silence in the kitchen, when finally Buffy said, “Tara? Wes? Spike wants to talk to you both. When you’re done eating maybe you should come upstairs.”
Dumping what was left on her plate into the garbage, Buffy left the kitchen to go back up to her bedroom, more than Angelus on her mind now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She never shuts up. Always talking about things at the worse possible times. Why does she always have to bring up our relationship when everyone’s around? Xander stared at his hands as they flexed against the counter. Sometimes he wished she’d just keep her mouth shut. What the hell did she want to have a baby for? He was only twenty-one, he wasn’t ready for any of this – a girlfriend, yeah – full time sex, yeah – fiancee, he wasn’t so sure, but, well, he’d already asked her, but that didn’t mean they had to get married right away – they could have a long engagement, really long. But babies? Nahuh.
And why the hell was she cuddling that demon brat anyway? Kid shouldn’t even ben possible, and now Buffy could – the same thing could happen to her. How disgusting was that? And why would she want to? Xander figured that was probably the worst thing she could do.
Buffy wasn’t like that. All this Spike stuff, he couldn’t – refused to think of it as love – had to be the result of some side effect of the spell Willow had done to bring her back. Couldn’t be because she actually liked him or anything. So when the after effects wear off, she’ll toss Spike out on his ass and the worthless blood-sucking bastard will leave. And that’s good.
Firmly convinced once more that all this was going to end soon, Xander apologized to the other two adults. None of them, not even Xander himself, was really sure what he was apologizing for.
Okay, lemme know what you think about this one, becuase it nearly got completely scrapped.
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