Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from BtVS.
Spoilers: Superstar
Warning: Some talk about rape.
A/N: There are a couple things about Jonathon that concern me when it comes to women. Firstly, he casts this spell that makes him the shit, which means the twins he's boinking aren't giving him consent. Strictly speaking, they're under the influence of mojo. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn't be giving him the time of day. Also in S6, he's more than willing to have his time with the mind-controlled Katrina, and that's way out of the sphere of okay.
A/N: Abercrombie and Fitch's signature cologne Fierce wasn't developed until 2002. However, since the fragrance always gives me a serious migraine if I get within 500ft of their store, and I've always connected their style with Riley, it shows up in my story a few years earlier.
Inuyasha (my first fanfiction love affair!) manga became available in the States in March of 1998. I can totally see Dawn loving this. Spike, osuwari!
Remember When
Chapter Fifty-Five
"It's Karen with a 'K'."
Buffy watched the pretty, overeager girl practically vibrating out of her skin at being so close to the heart-throbbing magnificence who was Jonathan. The man was amazing! And he smelled great! Better than the rich aroma of brewing coffee permeating every corner the Espresso Pump, currently thronged with Jonathan's admirers. Luckily they were keeping their distance, until Karen bravely approached to get an autograph.
Buffy listened to the hiss of the wand as the barista steamed milk and imagined licking mocha off Jonathan's chest. It was a perfectly healthy fantasy. It was Jonathan, after all. Only, it was a tad disconcerting that her fantasy man kept shifting from Jonathan to Spike. Buckets of wrong.
Jonathan signed his book with flourish before sending Karen back to her seat with a gallant smile. He turned back to Buffy, expression serious. "No one's perfect, Buff. You're just setting up your relationship to fail. That's a pattern with you." Jonathan's words, along with the comforting warmth of his hand on her wrist, were like a splash of water in the face, totally dissolving her inappropriate Spike fantasy. Her entire body went cold. Jonathan's disappointment in her made her ashamed, because he was right, as usual. She had a habit of forcing her relationships to fail. Look at Angel. She totally blamed him for something that couldn't be helped when he was soulless. He would have never hurt Dawn when he was ensoulled, but because he scared her with the intensity of his glorious, self-sacrificing love, she'd leapt on any reason to push him away.
And Parker. Deep down she'd known he didn't like women who clung. So what did she do? Turned into a level ten assassin vine which could only be killed with magical fire.
Wow, DnD was great! She needed to play it more often. Mostly so she could experience Jonathan's amazing Game Master skills.
"But he had sex with my body. He didn't even know it wasn't me." Buffy rubbed her chest, looking everywhere but at Jonathan. Her eyes zeroed in on Karen, who was huddled in the corner of the store, underlining important passages in Jonathan's amazing, life-altering book, while sneaking covetous glances at her hero.
Hmm. Need to keep an eye on that one. Sometimes Jonathan's fans didn't know the meaning of no.
Jonathan gently squeezed her wrist, and knowing it was a command, Buffy reluctantly turned her attention on him. Jonathan's eyes were an amazing chocolate brown. Like mocha, but with flecks of gold. They were so sweet and understanding, but she bet they'd turn hot and commanding in bed. Sadly, she'd never know. Jonathan only saw her as the bumbling kid she'd been when she first came to Sunnydale. Barely sixteen and still unable to hold a stake, much less thrust it with any real force through a vampire's chest. He always saw himself as her mentor, and no matter how she tried to excel at her gig as Vampire Slayer, she never moved beyond being his mentoree.
"I know. And that hurts. He looked into your eyes and didn't see you weren't there. But maybe instead of blaming him, you should forgive him."
"I'm not blaming him! How could he have known it wasn't me? I get that. I really do." She did, she totally got it. Even her friends hadn't known it wasn't her. How could she expect her boyfriend to recognize her when her best friends of four years and her own mother hadn't? Talk about unfair to the nth power.
No one had even figured out something was wrong. Well, except Spike. And it wasn't so much that he knew something was wrong, he just knew something wasn't right. That was almost the same thing. Wasn't it?
"Do you? I think you're mad as heck. And you have every right to be." His long, amazing fingers curled over her delicate wrist, comforting her.
"He knew I wanted to wait to have sex until it was the perfect time." She tilted her mug of cocoa to the side, looking past the mounds of whipped cream to the rich chocolate beneath.
"Again, your expectations are way too high. There's no perfect time when passion sweeps over you. Besides, you can't ask a guy to say no to his girlfriend when she's raring to go. That's just unnatural." Jonathan's cheeky grin was infectious, inviting Buffy to smile along with him, to laugh at men's weaknesses instead of seeing them for what they really were, excuses for bad behavior.
Buffy righted her mug on the saucer with a clank, frowning at Jonathan. "Why not? It's not like he didn't know what I wanted, and clearly Faith was drunk. Guys aren't mindless animals who have to take sex whenever it's offered."
Jonathan's grin was sad as he patted her wrist. "I don't think you have a realistic opinion of men. Guys are always going to take sex however they can get it."
Buffy didn't like that. Didn't like that at all. Spike didn't think that way. Spike had known something was off, and even though he wanted to have sex with her (yeah, she could admit that to herself) he hadn't laid a hand on her. But Jonathan said Riley hadn't done anything wrong. Even though it felt like he did. But Jonathan was never wrong. Never.
"I don't think that's true. In fact, I don't think most guys think that way." Wow, it was scary to outright disagree with Jonathan. It was wrong and well…wrong. Jonathan was the man. He knew everything. But Buffy felt strongly that all men weren't just mindless animals when it came to where they put their penises.
"And him getting it that way…felt like rape." She peeked up at him from under her lashes, certain was going to be even more disappointed in her for suggesting something so ridiculous. Rape was an awful, violent travesty occurring in back alleys or when a girl was dumb enough to go off by herself at a party. Rape was committed by strangers. It left bruises and marks and traumatized a person by its sheer brutality.
Claiming rape was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. Even if she felt violated, felt as if she'd been raped. She hadn't been. Ridiculous!
Jonathan scoffed, before seeing the torn look on her face. He rubbed his fingers up the inside of her forearm, and Buffy shivered. "Buffy, it's not rape if he's your boyfriend. Besides, like you said, Faith asked for it. He didn't force her to do anything."
"But it was my body," she said softly. Tears burned the back of her eyes, and she swept her hand over her face, forcing Jonathan to finally release her.
"I know, Buffy. But it still wasn't rape, and you need to forgive Riley. He didn't do anything wrong. You two are very special together. Your love is special. You need to concentrate on that."
Breath hitching, she nodded her head. Ridiculous. She always got things wrong. That's why she needed Jonathan. To tell her how to do things right. The proper way to feel. The proper way to act.
"Maybe I have been blaming him. But how do I get past it? How do I make it okay again?"
"If you really want something you can make it happen." Jonathan nodded sagely, taking a sip of his Emperor's Cloud and Mist green tea. Unsweetened, of course.
"You're right. Of course you're right. You're Jonathan."
8888
"Why are we here again?"
"Because I don't want to leave you alone while Adam is out there…cutting up little kids." The last was said under Buffy's breath so Dawn wouldn't hear. She pushed open Giles' door, coming to a dead stop when she caught sight of Spike lounging on the couch.
"Ladies," he drawled.
"Spike!" Dawn darted past her sister and launched herself at Spike, who caught her with an audible groan. It really was a good thing Spike wasn't human or he'd be a mess of bruises. Dawn might not be a slayer, but her boney elbows and knees should be registered as lethal weapons.
Buffy did her best not to look directly at Spike as she closed the door. They hadn't spoken since the other night at his crypt, though she knew what he'd done to Riley. Spike might think he had a good reason for beating up her boyfriend, but his actions were way out of line. Jonathan told her that she needed to make that clear to Spike. Jonathan also told her that she needed to shut down any affections the vampire might have for her. He told her it was wrong of her to lead Spike on. Jonathan reminded her of the lesson she learned of vampires and slayers not mixing after the Angel debacle.
Jonathan said Spike wasn't good enough for her. That he only kept the vampire around as a tool. Spike was muscle, nothing more. A bloodthirsty serial killer kept in prison by the chip.
Jonathan said she couldn't trust him. Not with her family. Not with her friends. And especially not with herself. Spike was only waiting for the moment to take her down and bag his third slayer.
"Where's Giles?" A surge of panic flooded her system. What if Jonathan was right? What if Spike found a way around the chip and Giles' body was stashed somewhere in the apartment? He did beat Riley to a bloody pulp. Sure, Xander said Spike blacked out and was bleeding from every hole in his body, except his butthole (she didn't ask how Xander had confirmed that piece of disturbing info) afterwards. But maybe the chip had gotten overworked and shorted out!
She spun on her heel, certain Spike was now an unfettered killing machine, only to come up short. Dawn had the vampire pinned to the couch and apparently had found his 'tickle spot.'
"Stop! Bloody hell! Stop!" Spike writhed on the couch, before rearing up and gently but firmly pushing Dawn onto the floor. "Bloody brat, you are."
Dawn laughed manically, a sound that even creeped Buffy out. Certain that her sister was safe for now, Buffy continued to the kitchen to search for food. Being a college co-ed was hungry business, and getting a decent meal that wasn't cafeteria food meant visiting her mom. She wasn't opposed to visiting Mom, but that always led the inevitable 'how're classes' conversation, and at the moment Buffy had nothing good to say on that front. Between Adam and Faith, and puppy dog boyfriends trying to make up for something that wasn't even their fault, she had her hands full.
"He's at the store, picking up things for Jonathan."
Buffy jumped, slamming the fridge door shut. She spun around, finding herself hemmed in by Spike, who had snuck in behind her. Stupid sneaking vampires.
He gave her a long, slow once over, heating every inch of her skin. She was suddenly glad she'd decided to wear the sheer blouse over a form-fitting tank and a pleated skirt that flirted with the tops of her thighs.
"Nice shoes."
Buffy blinked and looked down at her pretty pink-painted toes encased in a pair of Jimmy Choo cracked mirror leather sandals.
"Uh, thanks." Actually, her shoes were pretty darned cute. Though no one other than girls had noticed before.
"Welcome." Spike flashed a panty melting smile that had her shifting her thighs together. God, she needed to woman up and tell him to stop his little flirty-man shenanigans. He leaned closer, and her pulse shot up, and although it was a beautiful, eighty-degree spring day, it suddenly felt like she had landed on the sun.
"Excuse me."
"Uh, what?" Realizing she was gaping, Buffy snapped her mouth shut. Man, Spike smelled good. Almost better than Jonathan. Almost. After all….Jonathan.
"Need to get in the freezer, luv."
"Oh, right. Freezer." Feeling like a third-class loser, Buffy shifted to the side, watching as Spike reached in and snagged the very…last…popsicle. Grape flavored. Her favorite.
"Hey!"
"Sorry, Betty. All's fair in love and lollies."
"No fair! I want the last one." She scowled. "And don't call me Betty!"
Spike cast her the most wicked grin in his very estimable repartee of devastating grins and took off for the living room, Buffy close on his heels. Dawn looked up from her manga as they burst into the room, rolling her eyes before going back to Inuyasha. She totally wanted her own dog-demon-boy with fuzzy ears to torment.
Spike launched himself onto the couch, only to be straddled by Buffy. He lifted his treat over his head, keeping it out of her reach by wrapping his hand around her hip and pinning her down on his thighs.
8888
Spike heard the front door to the flat open, but he was too entranced by the sight of Buffy's breasts bouncing in front of his face as she strained to take his lollie to notice. No way in hell was she getting her mitts on it. Not when keeping it from her meant she writhed on his lap.
Hell, if Snack Size wasn't in the room, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from flipping Buffy over and shagging her into oblivion.
"Hey, guys!" Buffy greeted, laughing, not in the least distracted from trying to steal his popsicle.
Spike caught a foul whiff of A&F Fierce cologne and jealousy. When he glanced over Buffy's bared shoulder his eyes met Riley's ugly glare. He took little pleasure from the bruises purpling the git's face. As far as Spike was concerned the sorry excuse for a man got off easy. Spike knew his comeuppance from the Slayer was eminent, but he didn't care. Some things were worth a little punishment.
An evil smile curling the edges of his lips, Spike lowered his upraised arm just enough to allow Buffy to get a good grip.
She wrapped both hands around Spike's bicep, using her slayer strength to lever his arm down until she swallowed the head of the popsicle, taking it a little too deeply down her throat for the comfort of the male gender present.
Riley wasn't even a blip on his radar as Spike watched her swallow his treat. Hell and damnation. Could a man end up in emerg from his dick getting too hard?
"That was my lolly," Spike said gruffly, eyes glued to Buffy's mouth as she withdrew the popsicle. A small bead of purple juice clung to the corner of her lower lip, and Spike proved everyone wrong who had ever claimed he didn't have an ounce of self-control when he didn't lean over and lick it off.
"I licked it first so it's mine." Now that the popsicle had been 'tainted', he let her pry it out of his hand. "Let this be a lesson to you next time to not take the last one."
Much to Spike's discontent she swung off his lap and plopped down next to him. As discreetly as possible, Spike shoved a throw pillow onto his lap. Of course, discreetly meant every man in the room knew exactly what he was doing, having done it themselves once or twice.
He knew Buffy was watching his actions from the corner of her eye, but she ignored him, humming in enjoyment over her stolen gains. "What's up, guys?"
Xander stood frozen beside the door, Anya looking appreciative while rubbing up against him, and Riley seemed downright murderous. He spun on his heel to march out of the apartment, only to be brought up short by Jonathan, who was sending the slayer a disappointed glare that had her shifting away from Spike.
Jonathan patted Riley on the shoulder, calming the other man with his soothing touch and understanding smile. "We need to discuss the new threat that's risen, my friend." Jonathan leaned in close to whisper in Riley's ear. "Be patient. I'm working on Buffy." Jonathan's words were unheard by everyone in the room, except the vampire, something the all-knowing and amazing man already knew. Jonathan confirmed Spike's suspicion by tossing him a repressive glare, similar to the one he used to chastise Buffy.
Bloody perfect hunk of manhood, always ruining all a vampire's fun. Spike glared at the other man, covertly pressing down on the pillow covering his groin to try and alleviate the growing ache in his cock. An ache that, it was becoming progressively clear to him, could only be cured by Buffy.
8888
"So this demon Karen saw is lurking around the caves?" Willow asked. She and Tara had entered not long after the gang. The only person missing was Giles, still on an errand for Jonathan. No matter; Giles wasn't needed. Jonathan had the entire group in hand.
"All signs point to that," Riley confirmed, standing at Jonathan's shoulder as second-in-command, his arms crossed and legs planted wide.
He could see Buffy's jealousy written all over her face, though she tried to hide it. She never said it out loud, but Riley knew that she thought that if anyone should be Jonathan's second it should be her because she was the Vampire Slayer. Buffy didn't understand that her weird mystical enhancements didn't automatically make her a candidate for such an important position. Jonathan needed someone at his side who could offer more stability. Buffy had proven to be a decent enough fighter, a little clumsy at times, but her greatest fault lay in her emotions, her womanly heart. First falling for that vampire Angel, now befriending Spike, who was clearly manipulating her. Everyone saw it but her.
Well, Jonathan saw it anyway. The vampire even had the Scoobies snowed.
This was why women shouldn't be allowed into any important positions of power. They were emotional, and tended to let their hearts guide them instead of facts and logic. Riley stared hard at Buffy, who sat in the corner of the couch, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Spike, who'd claimed the armchair. Good God, he couldn't imagine a woman like Buffy in the White House. She'd start menstruating, get emotional, and nuke Switzerland because she didn't like their chocolate or some shit.
"We'll arm ourselves and head out while it's still light. See what we can scout out." Jonathan ordered.
"We can't leave Dawn alone."
"Seriously, Buffy?" Riley shifted his weight, menacing her from Jonathan's shadow. She had sicced her pet vampire on him, and he wasn't even close to being over it. Jonathan told him it was just a sign of how much she loved Riley. She was hurt and jealous that he had sex with Faith in her body and she acted out immaturely.
Even though she'd wronged him, Jonathan told Riley to apologize to Buffy. In order to keep relationships on solid ground, it was the guy's duty to be the one to apologize, even when they weren't in the wrong. Women overreacted, and the only way to calm them down was to take the blame, let them feel vindicated, then move on without looking back. "She's thirteen. My sisters were babysitting our younger brothers by then."
"Classic gender shaping," Willow muttered. Riley glanced at her askance. He was all about fem power, but sometimes she said the craziest things. Girls babysat. It was part of growing up. It helped prepare them for when they had their own children.
Buffy ignored the exchange, turning towards the vampire who was sprawled out on the only armchair like he owned the place. "Since it's daylight out and you can't go, will you watch after her? Mom should be by to pick her up after work."
"Wait!" Riley flailed his hands in disbelief. Buffy's brow crinkled with a hint of annoyance. "You don't even like to leave Dawn alone in the room with me when you go to the bathroom, and you're gonna let…" –– He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Dawn offering her coveted Twizzlers to the vampire. The immature blowhard smirked up at the little girl and snagged a juicy stick from the bag––"… the murdering vampire babysit."
Dawn sniggered, and Riley felt a cloud settle over him.
"Well, yeah," Buffy quipped, turning away as if the matter was settled.
Riley just couldn't comprehend it. Irritation bloomed and the back of his neck felt hot. "One of these days, the chip is going to fail or he's gonna get it out, and you'll come home to find your little sister raped and drained on the floor," he sneered.
He hit the far wall before he realized the vampire had left the chair. Spike was doubled over in the middle of the room, clutching his head. Instead of rushing to Riley's side to see if he was okay, Buffy had her arm wrapped around the vampire's back, supporting him through the pain.
"Fuckin' hurts, Slayer."
"I know it does," Buffy said soothingly, running her hand down his shoulder.
Riley clawed his way out of the dent in the sidewall, irritation birthed into full-blown anger. The a-hole had nearly beaten him to death two days ago with barely a twitch from the chip, but now he was bent over in pain? Either his brain was still soggy from the chip going off so many times just days before or he was playing to the crowd. Playing to Buffy.
"Buffy!" Riley spat.
His girlfriend glanced his way, but her eyes weren't her own. They were hunter's eyes. Eyes somehow unfamiliar, yet eerily not. Eyes he saw in his nightmares. The eyes of the woman who went out each night and took down her prey with nothing more than her formable strength and a small, pointy stick.
A woman she'd never been, because Jonathan had always been there. Riley shook the uncanny feeling away, looking to Jonathan to correct Buffy's misstep. Instead, Buffy's cold voice cut at his skin like knives. "Spike would never hurt Dawn. And you need to watch your mouth. We don't talk like that around Dawnie."
Riley's jaw nearly unhinged. He looked around the room for support, seeing only cold glares and Willow's reproving gaze as she clutched Dawn in a protective embrace. Even Jonathan wouldn't look him in the eye. The little girl had her face pressed into the witch's neck, and seemed to be genuinely upset. Riley twigged in on an undercurrent of past events he yet again wasn't privy to. It was always this way with this group. If you didn't share history with them, you could never truly be close with them.
8888
Buffy sat next to Riley and watched Xander and Anya fight about her moaning Jonathan's name during sex.
She glanced around the crowded dance floor, looking for any threats to Jonathan, who was signing autographs in the corner. If she happened to look for bleached-blond hair no one would know but her.
Honestly, Buffy couldn't blame Anya. It didn't mean she loved Xander any less. Jonathan was amazing. Who wouldn't fantasize about him?
She'd probably fantasize about Jonathan while having sex too. Unless she was having sex with Spike. Not that she would! She'd never be unfaithful to Riley. Even now while in their shady in-between grayness they were in at the moment. Nor would Buffy be unfaithful to Fantasy Jonathan! She just figured Spike would keep her too distracted with all his feel-good touches for her to drift off to fantasyland.
Not that would happen! Ever! Bad, wrong, thoughts!
As Jonathan took the stage, she gave Riley a guilty smile. When Jonathan announced the song was for them, the guilt swirling in her stomach intensified, especially when Riley held out his hand in an invitation to dance.
She followed him out on the dance floor, hoping against hope that the Hellmouth would suddenly open up and swallow her. Or that vampires would suddenly attack. Heck, even the slobbering hellhounds from the prom would be welcome.
Again, bad, wrong thoughts, Buffy!
She needed to remember what Jonathan had said. She and Riley were a special, meant-to-be couple. Her anger and blame were unhealthy. She needed to move on and start with the forgiving. Spike had once told her the strongest thing about her was her capacity to forgive.
"Buffy."
Buffy moved further into his embrace, using his body as a shield so he couldn't see her face. He wrapped his arms around her and she closed her eyes, trying to capture the feeling of rightness Jonathan had told her she should feel.
"It's too bad we didn't find anything at the caves, but I'm glad we came here after. We need this time together."
"Less talking, more dancing," she whispered against his neck.
He lowered his head, resting his brow against her shoulder until he surrounded her. She took a deep breath, telling herself that this was right.
"I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. So very sorry. Can't you give me another chance?"
Of course fixing them was left all to her. He hadn't done anything wrong and he knew it. He apologized to soothe her irrational anger. And it was irrational. Jonathan said so. As was her blame. If she didn't give him another chance then she'd be irrational, blamey girl. She didn't want to be that girl. No one likes irrational, blamey girl. Buffy wanted to be forgiveness girl.
"Yeah. I'll try harder to get it right. We're a special, meant-to-be couple." Buffy had always been told a woman's greatest strength lay in her ability to forgive. So why did it feel like a weakness exploited by all the men in her life, even Spike?
"You're giving us another chance?"
Buffy nodded, and Riley squeezed her tight, his largeness engulfing her dainty frame. "I love you, Buffy." She hugged him back, turning her face into his shoulder to stop herself from searching the crowd for bleached hair and leather.
8888
Buffy let Riley press a kiss to her lips at the door to Stevenson Hall. When he pulled back, she made sure to plaster on her brightest smile. He smiled back and waited until she was safely inside before hurrying away. From behind the plate glass she watched until he disappeared into the dark. Part of her wanted to be the one to walk him back to his rooms. He was just human and she was the Slayer, but Riley wouldn't hear of it.
She hadn't even made it all the way up the stairs to her floor before she felt him. Not bothering to fish her keys out of her pocket she opened her dorm room, knowing the door wouldn't be locked.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, shucking her pink leather jacket and throwing it over the back of her vanity chair.
"Just checking in. Wanted to hear what happened at the caves. We both know Jonathan won't tell me a thing."
Buffy watched Spike from the corner of her eye as she sat down at her vanity. He sprawled across her single wide bed like he belonged there, arms behind his head, ankles crossed. He frowned and she held her breath.
"Thought you'd be back sooner."
"We went to the Bronze after."
Spike had no reply, and the silence between them lay heavy in the room. Needing something to occupy her hands, else she'd come out of her skin, Buffy picked up her heavy paddle brush.
Words bubbled up her throat. Words that had no business seeing the light of day, especially after the lecture Jonathan had given her, but she couldn't seem to stop them. Stop the storm of emotions roiling through her.
"Do you think differently of me now?" Buffy snuck a look from the corner of her eye, only to see Spike frowning at her in consternation.
"What're you on about?"
"Now that I've slept with Riley…are you, like, disgusted with me?"
With tight, deliberate motions, Spike sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he could face her. "You didn't sleep with him, love," Spike pointed out in a low, dangerous growl.
Buffy blinked rapidly to hold back the sudden flood of tears. "Yes, I did. And now, you know, you might think I'm…tainted."
"Tainted." Spike drew out the word as if tasting it in his mouth, and finding it bitter.
Buffy turned her head so she couldn't see him. Tightening her hand on her brush, she ripped through her hair until it crackled with static electricity.
"Riley would think that. If I had slept with anyone but him. If I'd picked up some random guy at the Bronze and boinked him silly. Guys are like that. He would have blamed me."
In the mirror's reflection she could see her bed but not Spike, so when she suddenly felt him take the brush from her, she jumped. He ran his long, cool fingers along her scalp, soothing the burn from her ferocious strokes.
"Buffy." Spike sounded gruff, almost pained, but when Buffy looked in the mirror all she could see was her shifting hair and a hovering paddle brush. "Baby. You didn't sleep with anyone. That bitch did. You didn't sleep with that wanker, she did. And if she had slept with someone else, that wouldn't be your fault either. Any man who'd hold it against you is a rotten son of a bitch. And you're not tainted." He ground out the last bit from between half-grown fangs and tightly pressed lips.
Something hot spilled on her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away before Spike could see. The gentle strokes of the brush through her hair hesitated. Suddenly she was surrounded by Spike, his presence, his leather-and-whiskey scent, as he leaned over to nuzzle her ear.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Buffy. Don't let those wankers convince you otherwise."
Buffy dropped her eyes to her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "We were even," she whispered.
"Even?" Spike rested his chin on her shoulder, his hand cupped around her upper arm, his thumb brushing soothingly against her bare skin.
"You know. You had only Dru and Harmony. I only had Angel and Parker. Even. Now…" she trailed off, shrugging.
Spike withdrew and she could practically feel his incredulous stare burning into her. "You want me to go out to find another bird to shag? Even us out again?"
Buffy went rock hard, flinching away from him. He let her go, sinking to his knees beside her. "Okay, that was a prick thing to say," he told her. She didn't reply, her silence more of a reprimand than her words could ever be. "Buffy, love. What're we doin'?"
"What do you mean?" she forced out, afraid that she knew exactly what he meant. They shouldn't be having this conversation. It was way outside the realm of appropriate. Not to mention meaningless. It wasn't like they were in a relationship. It wasn't like Spike would care how many partners she had. Why did it matter to her what Spike thought of her now?
"You realize you've got a boyfriend, don't you? And it's not me."
Buffy clenched her hands into fists. He was right. He wasn't her boyfriend. She didn't have the right to get jealous over him 'shagging another bird' and she certainly shouldn't be talking about any aspect of her sex life with him.
It was bad enough she'd run to him afterwards and let him console her in his crypt, leading him on and giving him another in to manipulate her. Not to mention she'd yet to do her duty as the Slayer and punish him for what he'd done to Riley.
She turned in her seat to face him, stabbing her finger into his chest as she spoke. "You shouldn't have attacked Riley, Spike. It was wrong. It wasn't your responsibility to…to…" –– she stumbled a bit, looking for the right word. What exactly did Spike think he was doing going after Riley they way he had? ––"…avenge me. I can look after myself. You shouldn't have ––."
Spike grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips so he could kiss his ring still on her finger. His action froze Buffy's words in her throat. When he looked up at her, his eyes blazed as blue as the heart of a flame.
"It shouldn't have happened to you," he growled hoarsely. Buffy realized his eyes weren't just bright with anger, but God help her, tears.
He blinked, snuffing the emotion, but Buffy had seen it. Had choked on the intensity of it. He rose to his feet, leaning over to snatch her hair stick discarded on her vanity.
"Didn't you listen when I first gave this to you?"
Pink mouth slightly agape, still shocked to silence at what she'd seen in Spike's gaze, Buffy could only shake her head.
Spike pointed to the blue gem embedded in the wood. "The bloodwood gives you strength, but the stone protects you from magic."
Buffy frowned, glancing down at the beautifully carved, hand-painted wood. "That's for real?"
"Of course it's real," Spike snarled. "I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't. What did you think I meant?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I thought it was like the crystals and stuff at those New Age metaphysical stores. You know, this stone is supposed to represent this or that, but it's all just hooey."
"Hooey," Spike repeated drily. "You're the Slayer and I'm a vampire, but magic stones are hooey."
Again, Buffy shrugged.
Buffy watched as Spike struggled with his not nice, maledictory words, before he settled. It was amusing watching him trying to curb his language. A struggle he usually lost, but still amusing to watch.
"I would never buy you anything out of those charlatan shops, love. I had this made specifically for you by a shaman in the Amazon."
She took the stick from his hands, looking at the expert craftsmanship in a new light. "But we were barely friends then. We still kinda hated each other."
Spike shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I may not have known what I felt back then. Yeah, I hated you. Loved you a little too. The way a drunk loves and hates his drink. Wanted to shag you for sure, to my ever-lovin' shame. But I knew for certain I didn't want any harm to come to you."
He stood up while she gaped at him. Carefully, he took the stick from her hand, moving to stand behind her.
"Maybe if you'd had this in your hair that bitch's spell wouldn't have worked on you."
"Really," Buffy breathed, feeling the tension ease from her body as Spike wound her hair into a knot on top of her head. "It's that powerful?"
"The shaman assured me it was." Spike stabbed the stick through her hair, securing the knot.
A silent, invisible force blew through the room, a shudder of reality Spike could feel but not understand. Slowly, Buffy twisted in her seat to look up at Spike. Her eyes were so familiar in their hardness it made Spike's demon whimper, although he was certain he'd never seen such killer instinct in the soft little slayer who always cowered in Jonathan's shadow.
She slammed her fist down on the vanity, making her cosmetics and Spike jump.
"I'm going to kill that little punk."
Spike swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Even more disconcerting was his sudden and intense hard on. Fuck. Seeing her furious and wrathful and bloody magnificent, he wanted to shag her into the ground.
"Who, love?"
"Jonathan," she snarled.
Spike blinked, stepping back when she rose from her seat. Finally, her words clicked, and his mouth sagged open. "Jonathan? Don't get me wrong. I'd love nothing more than to beat his perfect, tightly muscled arse into the ground. But it's Jonathan."
She looked at him––a woman he'd never seen before, shoulders back, chin raised––she was a glorious valkyrie ready to reap the battlefield.
"Oh, yeah. That nerd is going down."
Without looking back, she stomped from the room and, helpless to do anything else, Spike followed her like the moon follows the sun across the sky.
