Lonely Vigil
by
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway! Also, I don't own any of the TV shows mentioned, obviously.
Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to teneljade@netzero.net. Thanks! Plus, I don't mean any offense to fans of the television shows mentioned, and this fic doesn't necessarily depict my opinions of them.
Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU afterwards.
Rating: PG-13
PART FOUR
Spike kicked the large, and typically ugly demon flat on its back for about the third time. Willow had sent a spell to lead Buffy here, but the Slayer hadn't shown yet, and the vampire and wicca were working double-time just to keep the angry parents-to-be off their backs.
Suddenly, the door to the small room was kicked open, and the Slayer strode through, doing her usual 'Want me? Come and get me' walk. The demons turned to her, and hissed, gathering up their three eggs, and preparing to make a rush for it.
Spike stepped back, and stood beside Buffy in the doorway. The Slayer, looking a little pissed, shook her finger at the demons. "Uh uh uh," She said, as though they were naughty children. "Don't think so."
Spike ran a hand through his hair in and exaggerated motion of coolness. "Wouldn't try it, fellows," He offered up the green, scaled, seven foot tall beast, as though he was giving a friend some advice. "The Slayer'll kick your ass. And that's never fun."
Regardless, as most demons do when faced with Buffy, the ugly things rushed Spike and the Slayer. Willow picked up a timber, and whacked one of the beasts on the back of the head, but it barely noticed. Tara then pulled out a sharp, wicked-looking knife, and tried to hack at the beast, but its armor was too strong.
Buffy and Spike were holding their own, but they wouldn't be for long, if this kept up. They were taking as many blows as they were dishing out, and that was never a good situation to be in.
Then, the vampire had an idea. "Hand me the knife!" He shouted, as he dished out a right hook to the beast in front of him, delivering a powerful sidekick in the wake of the demon's tottering. No one responded.
Spike got in a few more blows, and had his demon in a choke-hold when he yelled again. "Give me the bloody knife!" Tara handed it to him as quickly as possible, being extremely careful to skirt the powerful claws that slashed out at her, the other hand of the beast busy with holding onto the egg.
Spike took the blade, and with one long motion, beheaded the demon. Gooey, sticky, honey-colored liquid flowed as blood within the demons body, and splashed all over Spike and Buffy who were fighting back to back, using each other to hold themselves up. Willow made a face, and jumped back.
Turning, Spike jumped on the demon that was attempting to overcome Buffy. The being had screamed when its mate went down, but now, seemed only more determined than moments before to win this fight.
But between Buffy's Slayer strength, Spike's vampire strength, and Tara's knife, the demon never had a chance, and the Slayer and her Slayerettes walked away from the battle victorious, but covered in honey-colored goop, and smelling like a barn, as Willow put it.
"Why did we smash those eggs?" The red-haired wicca asked her friend. "What did those baby demons ever do to anyone?"
Spike laughed. "Nothing yet, Red. But baby demons grow into big demons-"
Buffy cut him off. "And big demons think there's nothing better than the occasional human child for a snack. Particularly on their demon holidays."
Willow looked away, and Tara wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Yuck," Willow said, sounding rather defeated about it.
Buffy made a face back at her best friend, and then looked down the road. "I'd better go home and clean up, Will. Could you call Giles and tell him mission accomplished?"
Willow nodded, and reached up to wipe some of the slime from her forehead. "Yep. Right after I get this off me."
Buffy laughed. "Sure. See you tomorrow, Will." The wicca nodded, and she and Tara took off in the opposite direction.
Buffy continued to walk towards her house, and Spike followed her in silence, until they got to the turn-off that took him back to his crypt. He started to go his own way, but the Slayer stopped him. "Where are you going?" She asked.
The vampire looked a little confused. "Home," He told her.
Buffy looked him up and down. He might have gotten the worst of the spray, having beheaded both of the beasts, and he wasn't a pleasant sight. He was certain that he and Buffy had left a trail of slime on their way back.
"Does home have a shower?" She asked.
The vampire shook his head.
"Then, no, you're not," She told him.
Spike wasn't sure he'd heard her right, but he played along. "Well, where am I going, Slayer?"
She grabbed his arm, and pushed him in the direction of her house. "You're coming home with me, and you're taking a shower, because I don't want to have to associate with something that looks as gross as the Glop Monster, and has an even worse personality."
"Who's personality are you calling bad? I seem to recall that I'm usually on the receiving end of the beatings that you usually deliver!" He told her hotly.
Buffy actually looked a little chagrined. "I know. I should stop." From her, this was as good as an apology, and as close as he thought he'd ever see to one. Spike's jaw dropped open, and he started to speak, but decided not to question his good luck.
The vampire, still flabbergasted, followed her docilely into her home, past her mother and sister, who both stared at them as if they were the slime-monsters they were, and into the guest bathroom shower. He was amazed at the rivers of dirt, gunk and slime that came off of his body. Counting backwards to the last time he'd done this, he decided that the Slayer was right. He really had needed this shower.
Coming out, he wrapped himself in the robe Buffy had left him, telling him that she was going to wash his clothes, whether he spit or fought or tried to push her off a cliff, so he'd allowed her to do so. Besides, the last time they'd been washed was around the last time he'd washed himself.
The platinum-blond vampire joined the happy family in the living room, where Buffy was combing out slightly damp blond waves. Dawn, as usual, was sulking about something or another, but she looked up at her sister when Spike entered the room. "He's cute when he's not playing slime monster," The vampire heard her mutter to her sister.
Dawn got a glare and a half and a 'don't you ever go there' look for that comment. Spike grimaced, not for Dawn, but for himself, because now that Buffy was reminded she had a family to protect from his evil influences, it was almost guaranteed that 'Be-nice-to-Spike day' was over.
But the Slayer, though she fixed him with her steely glare, didn't attempt to bite his head off quite as swiftly as usual, giving him hope for his continued existence. Instead of her usual fiery reactions, she was amazingly silent.
Looking around for someone to talk to, to take his mind off the pissed Slayer, his eyes fell on the oldest Summers woman. "'Evening, Joyce," The vampire greeted Buffy's mother, ignoring the blond's evil-eyed stare.
Joyce looked him up and down, a little smile on her face. "Well, hello, Spike," She said.
"You looked like the Glop monster when you came in here," Dawn remarked.
Spike smirked. "Funny, pet. That's what your sis said." He gave a mock-meaningful glace in the Slayer's direction, only to be driven down by her icy stare. He clutched his heart, pretending to be hurt. "Aw, I'm not allowed to acknowledge the fact that you two think alike, love?" He asked Buffy.
The Slayer sighed heavily, and turned away from him. She then started to run the comb fastidiously through her already tidy hair, picking at 'snarls' where Spike suspected there were none. But he decided that two could play this game, and sat down in the chair farthest from his sworn enemy, which happened to be right next to said-enemy's mother.
"What's on the telly tonight, Joyce?" He asked, extremely bored waiting for his clothes to dry, but equally not interested in being kicked out the door in only one of the Slayer's ex-boyfriend's robes.
Buffy's mother glanced at him momentarily. Then she clicked off the television set, and smiled a little. "Nothing. I'm just trying to pretend that there is something! It would give me something to do."
Spike leaned over a bit, just close enough to be playfully insinuating, but not close enough to set off the Slayer, whom he was all-too aware was watching them hawk-eyed from the opposite corner. "I could help you find something to... do, Joyce," He whispered mischievously.
The older woman swatted him on the arm light-heartedly, and laughed a little. "Spike! My daughters are here!"
Dawn sat up a little and focused on them. "And very interested in what you're discussing, too." She told Spike eagerly.
The vampire, seeing an opportunity laid out before him, not matter how stupid of one, took it. "I was just telling your mother that I could help-"
"Spike." Buffy's tone was warning, and though he pouted at her with his eyes, he relented.
"Nothin', Lil' Bit," He told her grudgingly. Dawn, realizing that it was her sister's fault, turned and glared at Buffy, who glared right back. Neither of the sisters would back down, and Spike suspected that if they ever got going like this about something really important, they might not take their eyes off each other for a millennium or two.
Suddenly, a bright flash of an emotion that Spike hadn't felt in years flared through the vampire's system, and he just sat, and reveled in it. So this is what happiness feels like, he thought. It had been such a long time, that it was almost an unfamiliar sensation.
It was comforting. He felt safe, all of a sudden. Watching Dawn and Buffy try to stare each other down, plus, at the same time, Buffy try to do her hair, was amusing and comforting, because it was stability. No matter what happened, his Niblet and his tiny, feisty Slayer would always be the same people.
Joyce got up to make hot chocolate, and asked Spike if he wanted some. He nodded, and added politely, "Thank you, ma'am."
The oldest Summers' woman laughed lightly. "I told you, Spike, you don't have to call me that!" The vampire grinned back at her.
Then Dawn groaned, sighed, and broke the stare she had with her sister. Buffy grinned, and Dawn glared, explaining her reasons defensively.
"I want to watch my Dawson's Creek tapes again before I have to go to bed!" Spike grinned. Buffy smirked. And Joyce yelled from the kitchen,
"Keep it down, honey!"
Dawn broke into a grin, mischievous light making her eyes sparkle. "She hates it," The teen explained to Spike. "Along with every other show I watch."
The vampire curled his lip a little in amusement, and leaned back in the recliner, draping his body all over the chair. Also, carefully neglecting to mention that he watched Dawson's Creek regularly. "Well, what do you watch, Little Bit?"
The fourteen-year-old sat still and thought for a minute. "Dawson's Creek, Popstars, Survivor Two, and Clueless, mostly."
Spike snorted. "No wonder."
Dawn looked very affronted as she turned to face the vampire. "'No wonder' what, Spike?"
The vampire saw the look on the younger girl's face, but pressed the issue, curiously uncaring of what happened this night as long as he got more of the warm, comfortable, family-type feelings. And teasing Dawn was doing that for him, in a major way. "Well, you watch some bloody awful television, Niblet."The teen put her hands defensively on her hips. "I do not! It has lots of real issues. And it's good stuff, the only good stuff on the air. How do you plan to argue for 'Passions'?"
Buffy shook her head. "Dawn..." She tried to warn her sister that arguing the merits of 'Passions' was likely to bring their mother into it, but the younger girl ignored her.
"It's the mostly pointless waste of air time I've ever seen!" Dawn told Spike, only half-teasing now. But the vampire, egged on to defend his favorite show, ignored her more serious tone.
"That's a really good show, Lil' Bit!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Then how come there's a doll as a main character?"
"He's part of the story, Dawnie," Came the ever-patient voice of Joyce Summers, from the kitchen.
"He's a doll!" Dawn turned her attention to her mother.
Spike, released from having to defend his position any longer, sat back and smiled, only barely listening to the eldest and youngest Summers women have it out about their favorite TV shows. He was so absorbed in the current episode of Dawson's Creek, which was actually a few weeks old, that he failed to notice when Dawn moved from the room.
He was arguing with the television like he usually did, only softer because Buffy was in the room with him, when he noticed the Slayer watching him with an odd expression. "What?" He asked.
"You're talking to the television, Spike."
"I know."
"You're talking to the television."
"I know!"
The Slayer shook her head.
A few minutes later, she voiced another one of her annoying opinions, obviously bored of her younger sister's television shows and staring at the vampire in her living room. "Why do guys do that?" She questioned, trying to get a rise out of him.
Spike looked down at himself, lifting his arms to check over his body. "Do what?" He asked, finding nothing.
"Do that," Buffy said, motioning vaguely in his direction.
"Do what, Slayer?"
"That! You know, the taking up all the space that you possibly can thing. It's weird. Why do guys do it?"
Spike leered a little. "Why do guys do it, or why do guys do that?" He asked.
"Spike!" The Slayer sunk back into the cushions, content, for the moment, just to glare at him until he burned under gaze.
Thank God that isn't one of her powers, Spike decided.
Back to A Little Part of the Buffiverse
Back to A Little Part of the Buffiverse Fanfic