A Spark of Love
Chapter Eleven
Previously: Glory turns into Ben, but Buffy forgets immediately. Spike sends Dawn to LA with Clem. Cordelia greets them when they reach the Hyperion, and Spike and Angel have a conversation. Angel knows that Spike does not have his soul, but allows him to stay.
"Okay, coast is clear," Cordelia reported in a stage whisper, giving Buffy a little push. "Go, go, go!"
The talk between Spike and Angel had gone way better than she'd expected: they were both unharmed, if kind of pissed off, and Spike was allowed to stay. Cordelia, outside of Angel's knowledge (is that how she does everything? is Cordelia the actual boss here? scary thought) had chosen for them a suite on the third floor. That is, just one floor above Angel's own suite. "I think the walls and floors and stuff are pretty thick, but I'd still be careful," she had said a little nervously. Buffy had opened her mouth to explain that they weren't sleeping together (yet), but after a minute of not getting a word in edgewise, she gave up. It wasn't any of Cordy's business anyway, no matter how much she tried to make it hers. Why did she even care?
"Thanks, pet," Spike said absently, after the three of them had dashed up the stairs and reached the doorway. Cordelia handed them each a key.
"Yeah, thanks, Cordy," Buffy added, not about to be outdone by him. What the hell even was this? Spike was like, the rudest person she knew. Well, except when her mom was around, but Cordelia was nothing like Joyce. Nothing at all.
Cordelia didn't seem to notice Buffy's reservations. "Great. Okay, well – good night. And Buffy, shopping in the morning?"
She felt herself grimace a little. Yeah, so she did like shopping, and it had been a while since she'd been able to do something like that with a friend – but Cordelia wasn't really a friend, and this whole sitch was just too wacky to even think about. "Uh…" she hedged.
"Come on, when was the last time you went shopping in L.A.? I know all the new outlets, too, so don't worry if it's the money thing. Turns out, assistant to a vampire detective and sometimes-prophet is not really a job that pays that well." She shrugged.
Crap! She was smiling back! "Okay," she heard herself saying. "Sounds like fun."
Cordy smiled wider. "See you then!"
Spike was already unlocking the door and opening it wide. Buffy looked at him, wondering if he felt as unsure as she did. It was one thing, stolen moments in her bed, but the whole acknowledgement of their relationship and oh god was this a honeymoon suite? Everything seemed a little too much all of a sudden, like all the stress from the day had all fallen on this single second. She was staring inside, and he chuckled.
"After you, love," he said in that stupid, sexy voice. She wanted to punch his stupid, sexy face. And then, just maybe, kiss him.
Something in his eyes reassured her. He looked a little unsure, too, which was crazy because he was like a hundred and didn't have any judgy-type friends or potentially jealous ex a floor down. Although there always was the possibility of her jealous ex coming upstairs to put a stake in him.
Buffy went in first, despite her reservations. The room was pretty, if obviously dated. Spike closed the door a little too loudly behind her and locked it. Her heartbeat quickened before she realized – duh. Angel. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't also thinking what she was thinking. Was he thinking what she was thinking? What if he wasn't, or what if he was thinking that she was thinking what he was thinking and then he'd tell her that and then she'd tell him she was thinking what he was thinking…okay, yeah, she'd officially stopped making sense.
And then she quit thinking at all when he turned around and looked at her.
Sometimes Spike's blue eyes looked like someone freezing to death in the arctic ice or something, but right now they were more akin to the streak of blue in the middle of a flame. If she didn't already know he was room temperature, she would have expected him to be feverish as he crossed the short distance between them and slipped his hands around her waist. Instead, nope, it was just her feeling like her skin was going to burn right off her body.
She tried to say something – what, she wasn't really sure – but it came out sounding like a strangled, needy moan. Just great. They were on the run from a hellgod, her sister was in even graver danger than usual, and they were staying at her ex's hotel and here she was making those noises. Buffy pushed him away, a little more harshly than she meant to. He stumbled back, looking confused and wounded but not mad.
"I just…I don't think it's a good time right now," she said, forcing herself to make a coherent-ish sentence.
He blinked those eyes at her again. "Pet," he murmured, stepping closer once more. "What better time is there? Any bloody minute Glory might burst in or Peaches might kick me out, or any number of other disasters like plague our lives. This is how people are when the world's going to hell, yeah? They comfort each other."
She thought about saying but you're not people. She didn't. Instead, she took a step forward, so that they were almost touching. "Well, then get with the comforting," she whispered, threading her arms around him.
Spike's response was immediate. He pressed his lips fervently to hers, like a desperate prayer. She matched his passion, almost expecting to taste blood in the force of the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, and within a minute she was gasping against the wall.
Maybe he's right for once, she thought woozily through the feel of his hands on her. Maybe this is the perfect time for…
For a knock on the door, apparently. Spike's insistent touch faltered. Buffy pulled away, still breathing heavily and praying that it was just a mix-up. Maybe Anya got lost or something.
"Look," rang out her sister's voice, "I know you guys are probably making out or whatever but my room is really creepy and I found a roach in the closet so can I come in?"
They exchanged a look, and Buffy sighed before heading to the door. Dawn raised an eyebrow triumphantly at her mussed state, but despite her snark, something was definitely up. Buffy locked the door back behind her sister, hoping that'd ease the crease on Dawn's forehead. Nope. She was definitely starting to look prematurely middle-aged.
Well, duh. The hellgod who was after her had just found out today that it was her she was after, and now they were miles from home. And here Buffy was, acting like she got to be the stupid teenager in love. She offered Dawn a smile. It's just one night, after all.
Spike registered, as if from miles away, the dulcet tones of Miss Cordelia Chase. Asking Buffy something or the other, she was, and being bloody loud about it.
The worst thing about hanging around humans, he decided in that instant, was their tendency to get up in the morning. Bloody disgusting. He allowed his eyes to open. Cordelia was standing in front of the couch where the three of them had fallen asleep, and seemed to be gabbing on and on about…shopping. "If we leave in about an hour, we can get lunch and then hit all the shops. Oh, Buffy, it'll be just like old times. Except, well, we'll probably get along better and there won't be as many demons. I hope. Anyway, in L.A. there are a lot of friendly demons, so it's probably all good."
"Right," Buffy mumbled, sounding as tired as he felt. She nudged Dawn with her arm, but the younger girl just murmured in her sleep and turned over. "I guess she doesn't want to go."
They stood up and Spike gave himself back up to sleep.
When he woke up again, Dawn was just stirring. Buffy probably hadn't been gone too long, although he hadn't looked at the clock. He was tempted to fall asleep once more until he heard voices from downstairs. Specifically, Angel's voice.
If he could be diurnal, Spike bloody well could be too. He swung his legs off the couch – damn, he was sore – and gently shook the Niblet. "Think it's rightly day now, pet," he said softly. Her eyelids fluttered and she woke with a massive, unladylike yawn.
He left her to her morning preparations, whatever that might involve, and stumbled down the stairs. So much for natural vampiric grace. The last few days had taken a lot out of him, and he was starving.
Spike passed the witches on his way – Red was reading to Tara. Made a fine picture, and he offered them a low "morning". Angel, Wesley, and Giles were crowded around a lot of musty texts, and didn't acknowledge his presence as he strode by them to the fridge. Ah, full of pig's blood. It'd do.
He caught a bit of their conversation as he poured it into a mug – some lot about Greek and demon languages. Likely a pidgin language or maybe a cipher, he supposed. Will Buffy be gone all day and leave me stuck with this bloody lot? The microwave dinged, and he took his mug over to the Table of Dullness ™.
Angel glared at him as he walked over. "Thanks for offering to contribute, Spike, but we don't need crude jokes and sarcasm. We're trying to translate this prophecy – Wesley thinks it might be important."
"Oh, right, translation work. Yeah, I s'pose you'd be much better at that – I only studied Classics at Oxford when I was human, but you got a degree in, what was it? Hmm, I remember, it was the contents of tavern whores' bodices. Let me have a look see, anyway." Spike set down his mug and moved intentionally into Angel's personal space.
Wesley was openly gaping at him, but the other ex-Watcher seemed unsurprised. Probably already knew, the nosy git. Angel's jaw was twitching, but before he could really blow a fuse, the front door swung open.
A man strode in – must be Gunn, they'd mentioned him last night. Spike took a swig of blood and watched him. He seemed self-possessed, and more than a bit wary of Angel. Spike liked him. To no one's surprise, Angel didn't bother introducing them, so he just gave the newcomer a small wave and left it at that. No need to get bloody chummy with this L.A. gang, even if they didn't quite fawn over the Poof the way he'd expected them to.
"Hey," Spike said suddenly, remembering. Angel looked up, annoyed, like he'd interrupted something important. Please. "Where's Clem gone off to?"
Giles 2.0 cleared his throat. "He, er…I believe he said he was going to Vegas."
"Clem's gone?" an unseen voice demanded. Ah, the Niblet had finally joined the living. Or, well, the unliving in some cases. She put her hands on her hips, very Buffyesque. Based on Angel's eye twitch, he didn't miss the resemblance either. So, just to rub some salt in the other vampire's bleeding wounds, he sauntered over to her and gave her a friendly, brotherly embrace.
"S'pose he's the smartest of our lot," Spike murmured, ruffling her hair. She glared at him, patently Buffy again. Funny how that look inspired completely different feelings when coming from this one, though. Much less lusty and much more...brotherly. Of course, he'd been an only child, so he could only assume that's what it was like. "We shoulda gone to Vegas, pet. Bet you and me could have cleaned up nicely at the tables."
"I'm pretty sure I'm too young to gamble," Dawn said matter-of-factly, smiling a little. "Plus, we're both totally broke."
He gave her a look and put a finger to his lips. She rolled her eyes and went over to greet the Wiccas.
The men gathered around the table stopped their hushed talking as soon as she walked off. Well, bloody fine then. He didn't need their stamp of approval on his existence. Only reason he'd gone to the hell away from hell was for the Summers girls, and that wasn't a secret. He'd shout it from Angel's bleeding rooftop if he wouldn't end up a speck of dust on some vapid starlet's oversized sunglasses.
But if they didn't need him at this exact second, he'd use his free time to make Angel's unlife an unliving hell.
If she could have gone back to the past and told her high school self that she'd go on a shopping trip with Cordelia Chase, Xander, and Xander's current girlfriend who was also an ex-demon, past!Buffy would have laughed her out of town. If she had then told her past self that she would actually kind of enjoy herself on said trip…well, high school Buffy's brain would have been fried for sure.
But it was kind of fun, in a bondy way she'd been missing lately. Anya pulled Xander along like a hyperactive puppy (his analogy, not hers), while Cordelia simply strolled. She still had that confidence Buffy remembered oh-so-clearly, but she obviously wasn't the same Cordy. Something in her had changed, and she seemed more…peaceful, somehow. The whole thing was a little freaksome, but in the freakshow that was Buffy's life she couldn't exactly pick and choose her happy moments. After being on the run from an evil skank with a literal god complex, shopping with Cordelia Chase really was kinda pleasant.
"So, Buffy, how have things been?" she asked, barely glancing at the clothes as she brushed her fingers by the racks. "Besides the whole apocalypse of the week and everything. I mean, you and Spike seem…still major-league weird, but in a cute way. I think."
The brunette's smile seemed sincere, and Buffy found herself wondering if there was some sort of parasite body-stealing demon making the rounds in L.A. Where's the real Cordelia? In the back of some closet somewhere? "Uh, thanks. I think." She offered a cheeky smile.
"I have to be honest with you, I was kind of worried when I found out you were coming to town," Cordelia informed her as she inspected a silk scarf. "I mean, no offense or anything but every time you're here Angel turns into a black cloud of mopiness for at least a month. And I just think that's kind of unfair."
Oh, there she is. "Unfair for who?" The fighty edge was in her voice, but Buffy didn't really care.
"Angel, duh. For whatever reason he just can't get over you, and it so doesn't help when you keep going through boyfriends like they're nail polish. He's perpetually stuck on you and it makes him miserable, so I wasn't exactly rolling out the red carpet, but…I think he's handling more than usual. Probably because he's focusing all that miserable energy on how much he hates Spike. So good job, I guess, on picking a guy Angel hates even more than he loves you."
Buffy was actually dumbfounded. She tried to open her mouth but made just a couple of weird, animal-like noises and then shut it again. Okay, the fun factor of this little outing was rapidly disappearing, and she was starting to get flashbacks to homecoming night. "Wow, Cordelia," she said finally. "I didn't know you cared that much about Angel."
Cue the patented Cordelia Chase You-Really-Are-As-Dumb-As-You-Look eyebrow raise. "Of course I care about Angel," she huffed, brushing her hair back with one hand. "He's an idiot and a dork, but he's our idiot and dork, even if he does have 'property of Buffy Summers' stamped on his ass."
Her smile at that was a little too wide – scratch that, way too wide, and Buffy had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Cordelia had had a thing for Angel back in the day, sure, but that was pre-Angelus, and she hadn't wanted anything to do with him since. When she'd heard they were working together in L.A., she almost keeled over from the shock. But maybe, since coming here, Cordelia had set her sights on Buffy's brooding ex again.
It shouldn't have bothered her, but it totally did.
"So, what's the what?" Xander cut in, apparently oblivious to the tension between the two women. Or maybe just electing to ignore it – it wasn't like a fight between them was anything new.
Buffy was in the midst of trying to figure out a clever answer when she realized that Cordelia seemed to be passing out. "Oh, shit," the brunette mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead and stumbling. "Not now."
To Anya's chagrin, Xander caught his fainting ex easily while Buffy remained partially paralyzed with her currently hateish feelings toward Cordy. "Does this happen to you often?" he joked as her eyes fluttered open, but he was making that face that meant he was actually worried.
"Actually, yes," she said, evidently in pain. "Thanks to the direct link to the PTB in my head. They've never heard of cell phones, apparently."
"Direct link?" Buffy repeated. What, so she's psychic now? That's just freakin' great.
"Oh!" Anya exclaimed, seeming pleased to have a contribution. "You're a Seer now. What's your vision? Are there smells? I've heard there can be smells."
"A vision?" Buffy said again, feeling a little like one of those talking toy parrots. "Like…seeing the future?" Like Drusilla? she added silently. So not a thought she wanted to be having right now.
"An army," Cordelia said. "Uh – yeah, smell. Sweat. Human sweat, I think, it doesn't seem demony. And a big swirly thing."
"A portal?" Anya supplied.
"Yeah, that."
"Do you, uh, feel anything?" Xander asked, still holding onto her.
"Like a million hammers are banging on my head," Cordelia said wryly, "but nothing relevant, I think." With obvious effort, she stood up and patted down her hair. "We better go tell the rest of the team."
"Yeah, we should do that," Buffy agreed quickly, her inner (or maybe outer, whatever) control freak rearing its head. It was stupid, really, but she felt like she had a claim on these people that should keep them from being bossed around by the likes of Cordelia Chase. Even if she was Cordelia Chase 2.0, now with supernatural powers!
Okay, petty time's over. Time to roll.
"About bleedin' time," Spike said aloud as the hunting party opened the hotel door. Anya, unsurprisingly, had a few purchases, but the other three were unladen. Cordelia – he'd yet to think of a good nickname for her that didn't involve her breasts – looked damned knackered. But he forgot all about her when Buffy set her eyes on him and actually smiled, making a beeline right for him.
"How was the shopping pet?" he murmured, not sure how much PDA she'd allow.
Buffy took a step forward and he could have sworn his heart pounded. Suddenly he was like a boy at his first society ball. Bloody William, always surfacing to bollix things up for him. But he couldn't think about that now, with Slayer here giving him the bedroom eyes. "It was good," she said, just as quietly. "I missed you."
Well, to hell with what she'd allow or what the others would think. Angel could hang himself for all he cared. "Is that so?" She nodded, looking strangely satisfied with herself. He leaned in, embracing her, and pressed his lips against hers.
Next thing he knew, they were on their way to making out like a pair of randy teenagers. The Watcher cleared his throat, and Spike was certain he was polishing his glasses as well, especially when Buffy made this sort of throaty moan that plunged him into a whole new level of need.
But when they finally broke apart – she needed air, a problem he didn't have – the other hotel occupants were at least pretending not to gawk. Spike stifled a snicker. The only thing that could make being with the Slayer better was knowing that Angel had to watch, and he was going to take advantage of that as often as possible.
For her part, Buffy seemed a bit too pleased with herself for someone who kept worrying about what her friends would think, so there was probably a bit of a motive there, too. Not like he gave a rat's arse. It had affected her – she was still flushed and breathing heavily, and every so often she'd shoot him another longing gaze. Forget Angel, that was worth everything right there.
The younger Watcher was hemming and hawing over something – an army? An interdimensional portal? "Cordelia had a vision," Buffy said. He digested that tasty morsel of information, realized it made sense, and decided to call her Vision Girl from now on for kicks. Based on what he knew of the brunette, she probably wouldn't mind, and it was better than "Sugar Baps".
"Wait, an army," Red said suddenly. "Like maybe those armored guys Buffy fought way back?"
"Oh yeah." Buffy seemed to struggle with remembering them. "What were they called? The Knights of…Business and Team?"
"The Knights of Byzantium," Rupert corrected, in that long-suffering tone of his. "Yes, if there are still enough of them to comprise an army, it is very possible. They were known to seek the Key, according to the very few texts that mention them."
"They didn't like Glory, though," Willow put in. "Maybe we can team up with them?"
"Ooh, I like that idea," the boy said enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together. "Any battle where we have an army is a good thing in my book. Remember graduation day?"
Those who were present took time to remember it. Spike, who only knew about the events based on Dawn's retelling of Buffy's account, sighed. "But if those knights were fighting Buffy to begin with, I doubt they'd want to pal around," he said. "Sounds to me like they're already pissed off, and the last thing we need is a bleedin' army targeting us. If we let them think that Glory has the Key, they'll throw themselves at her and one or the other will polish themselves off for us. Presto, just one baddie to fight against, and my money's on Glory."
"Wait," Gunn said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't know anything about this army, but I gotta ask – are they human?"
"Yeah," Buffy replied tiredly. "They are."
"And we're just casually talking about giving them over to a god who'll tear them apart and suck their brains out?"
"No, Chip Boy here is suggesting it," Xander said crossly. What's got his panties in a twist? "And I hope some of us remember that he's a cold-blooded killer. Of course the murder of humans wouldn't bother him."
"In case you haven't noticed, several of you are human and I'm trying to save your arses, God knows why," Spike shot back. "You're a good little team for small evils but a god plus an army seems like a bit much. Just trying to lessen the load, and yeah, I'd rather have some bleedin' zealots I don't know go to their deaths than have it happen to Buffy or any of her lot. You telling me you'd rather see your girl dead than a few nameless soldiers?"
"That's different."
"How? Bloody hell, she was a demon for hundreds of years, and she's lived longer than all of us put together. You don't have to like it, but I don't think an army is just going to realize we can all hug and be friends. They want Dawn dead. Either Glory kills them or we have to – and I can't, remember?"
"Spike has a point," Wesley said. Well, well. Wouldn't have expected that vote of confidence. "As much as I would like to adhere to ethical standards, this is a dangerous situation. They are attempting to kill us, so placing them in harm's way would be simple self-defense. Most of us are human, and those of us who are not…well, one is unable to harm humans, and the other would prefer not to, I'm certain. This may well be our best option."
Everybody seemed to exchange looks. Based on Buffy's, he wasn't going to be getting any more kisses like that for a long time.
"They don't know Dawn is the Key." Buffy's voice broke the silence. She sounded quiet, but resigned. Her commander voice. Oh, hell, I've broken her. "I could go, let myself be captured."
He hadn't wanted to rip her throat out that much since…well, never, actually. "They'll know you're the Slayer, love," he countered angrily. "I'll go."
"Sounds like a great plan," Angel said lazily, "except they'll spot you as a vampire from a mile off."
"You're one too, in case you forgot, so don't you suggest you'll play the bloody hero."
"Not what I had in mind." He sat up a little straighter, and he had that stupid little better-than-you look that made Spike want to punch him. More than usual, that is. "They know the Slayer's protecting the Key. But Buffy isn't the only Slayer."
Well, he didn't have to worry about Angel getting any love from Buffy, at least. From the expression on her face, he might as well have pinned a dead puppy to her dorm room door. "No," she said emphatically. "We're not bringing her into this."
Wesley had also visibly blanched, and Spike suddenly wanted to know the whole story. He'd heard of Faith, of course, and remembered when they were looking for her, but nothing had ever come of it. Apparently she'd made the rounds in L.A. as well.
"Faith is a loose cannon, Angel," Rupert said carefully. "I don't think we can risk it."
"A loose cannon who owes us all a favor," Angel pointed out, still with that annoyingly smug face. Oh wait. That was just his face. Damn him. "And she's changed."
"You sure put a lot of faith in her," Buffy said, glaring. Pun totally intentional. "I don't trust her, and I don't want her to know who the Key is."
Dawn, who had been so silent Buffy had nearly forgotten she was there, spoke up. "Faith is a piece of scum. But…she doesn't have to know I'm the Key, right? We don't owe her anything. She stole Buffy's body, her boyfriend, tried to kill all of us at least once…"
"She stole your body?" Spike asked, looking shocked. It was almost cute.
"Yeah, back when she was in town. Then she slept with Riley." It's amazing how last year's problems seem so minor league compared to the Glory threat.
"Wait…that was her?"
He could probably hear that her heart stopped beating, but Buffy didn't care. "She didn't…with you, too?" Oh, god, please no. I'm already way not sure about being ready to sleep with him, but if it turns out that Faith already did…in my body…
"No, she just…said some things. Uncharacteristic things for you to say, but I figured you were just feeling particularly sadistic and bitchy. No offense, pet," he smirked.
"Well, Faith has a track record of trying to steal my boyfriends, so I wouldn't have been surprised if she –" Buffy stopped short. Did I just – oh well. I mean, they all saw me make out with him, so it won't surprise anyone.
Except him.
And sure enough, Spike was looking at her like she had just built him a castle made of blood, liquor, and cigarettes. And that team he liked so much, Manchester or whatever. He didn't comment, though, just kept giving her that glowing look that made her feel all warm and tingly and a lot more amenable to the idea of calling him her boyfriend than she'd been before it accidentally slipped out.
"Anyway," Dawn said, smirking at them, "can't we just tell her that the Key is like, I don't know, an old shoe? Like a Portkey."
Xander raised his hand. "Uh…not meaning to rain on the parade, but isn't Faith in prison?"
"She has superpowers, honey," Anya said gently. "I mean, heck, if she wanted to kill us all she probably could have broken out by now, right?"
Comforting thought.
"The sun is setting!" Tara exclaimed, hiding her face. "The sun is setting!"
It was midday, but Willow still opened the blinds on one window (far away from both of the vampires) to calm her girlfriend down. Then she said something that might have been a spell, but more likely was some kind of ancient swear word based on the way she said it. Closing the blinds hurriedly, she turned around, eyes wide. "Well, I'm not usually Decisive Girl, and I think you all know how much I hate Faith with every fiber of my being, but – we better get her quickly, because there's a large crowd of armed men out there and something tells me they're not the welcome wagon..."