We only chose to borrow these characters for a bit to do what we enjoy doing. All that we own is our lovely plot! No
copyright infrigment is intended in any way shape or form.
With that out of the way...
Title: Imitor Vita Pro Amor (Imitating Life For Love)
Authors: Peroxide Pest and Nocturne Wytche, AKA Celeste and Debbie
Spoilers: All Seasons
Dedications: Well, I'd like to say thanks to all those wonderful S/B writers out there that have inspired me and my sister to come
outta our shells and see what y'all think of our lil fics. We'd probably like to thank each other for putting up with each other and
the sort, and of course for being so good at writing together, you can
barely tell where one of us begins and one ends. Also, to
our sister, Keren, who still loves Angel, we forgive you :P Lea,
thanks for all the help and support, blessed be sister.
Summary: A few unsuspected visitors come back to good ol' SunnyD and
cause some more havoc in our favorite slayer's life.
She must also decide where her feelings for Spike lay. A run
in with a demon changes things for Spike. S/B
Rated: R just to be safe
Note: songs come into a lot of play in the next few chapters, just to
let you all know. Sorry if it becomes a nuisance, but hey
its the music of our character's hearts :P Or something to that
affect... Plus, it leads to plenty of s/b romantic tension, which
we
all love! Also, no copyright infringement intended on these beautiful
songs, that are the backgrounds to the soul of this story :)
P.S.: We've also come to notice that Spike purring...is a GREAT thing
:P *EG*
P.S.S Due to 2 mentions we've fixed the format so its easier
for you all to read and enjoy, and we're such sticklers to please
our fans; its fixed :P enjoy!
Without further blabbings:
Imitor Vita Pro Amor
Part 18
Dawn stretched her arms out above her head with a sigh as she pounded down the stairs. She had set her alarm early, so that she'd have plenty of time this morning. She held her notes from Spike's lesson clutched in one hand, planning on reviewing them over a good breakfast. If Buffy had started cooking...if she hadn't, she'd kill her. She pounded into the living room to retrieve her school bag, but skidded to a halt, her eyes bulging at what she saw. A giant Cheshire cat grin formed slowly on her face as realization sunk in and she had to cover her mouth to curb the fit of giggles threatening to erupt from within her. The scene before her gave her a funny sense of deja vu. The other day she caught Buffy amidst a Spike dream. Now...here, on her couch, in the darkened living room... was Spike and Buffy... fast asleep, and most importantly, together. Dawn fought the urge to shout in happiness and wondered in passing if she had a camera handy, somewhere.
She felt the grin threatening to split her face, and had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep it from doing just that. Buffy was spooned tightly against Spike, her head resting on his chest, feet curled on the couch, and her arm draped along Spike's lap, clutching the blanket that covered them. Spike's head was tilted back, and close to her hair, his own arms wrapped around the slayer in a protective, possessive embrace. They fit so well together. It seemed like such an intimate moment and Dawn instantly wished she could take herself to school and not wake them, but Buffy would be really mad if she went alone. She stepped over to them carefully, rubbing Buffy's arm gently. "Wake up, Buffy..." she whispered, trying not to wake Spike as well. Buffy groaned tiredly and snuggled deeper into the nook Spike's arms formed around her.
Spike tightened his grasp as she moved closer to him, not showing any signs of waking up.
Dawn frowned. She hated to do this, but... "C'mon Buff..." She shook her sister a bit harder.
Spike stirred, eyes opening at the intrusion. He blinked, disoriented, trying to see straight and figure out just what in the hell was going on at the same time.
"Sorry, Spike..." Dawn apologized giving him her most regretful expression when he turned to her and partial realization dawned. "I got school..."
Spike nodded with understanding, yet he couldn't remember exactly what was going on right now. "Nibblet..." he said, trying to gather his bearings.
"Yeah?" she turned those gigantic eyes on him.
He moved to sit up when he realized there was weight in his lap. "Buffy?" Spike shifted, studying the precious cargo in his lap. He beamed brightly all of sudden, not ever feeling so good in his whole existence. He remembered.
Dawn grinned, seeing the perfectly goofy smile that graced his usually hard features. She'd never seen Spike smile that way before. It gave her butterflies to see him so happy. "I'll go and start the breakfast. Give you a minute to wake her up good and proper," Dawn teased. Spike was too amazed at the sight before him to toss a quip back at Nibblet so just made due with an offhanded nod in her general direction. He was afraid to blink, afraid to move.
Dawn turned and bounced into the kitchen, air in her step.
She wondered if Spike liked bacon and eggs??
Spike wished for nothing more than to stay like this forever, but Dawn did need to go to school. He frowned regretfully, not too thrilled with the thought of disturbing the precious cargo lying ensconced in his arms. He cradled her against him tenderly, tilting her head back into the crook of his arm. He looked around, making sure he was alone with her.
He looked down at her beautiful, sleeping face. He pulled her close to his chest, cuddling her, resting his head against hers. He nuzzled her close, drowning in her scent, her presence. He fought to keep back a purr, but to no avail, as it vibrated down low and throaty in his chest. He sighed, pulling back after a moment, just to look at her. Her head fell against his chest, and he freed the hand cradling her body close. He cupped her cheek, grazing his fingertips along her smooth face. Smiled gently, and at the irony that she was unconscious, he wished he could kiss her. His fingertips traced her lips and he shuddered with want.
Buffy began to stir faintly in his arms. She shifted, feeling comforted by the presence around her. She smiled in her sleep.
Spike would've dropped her, had they not been sitting. She smiled! Smiled at him! Well...she didn't bloody well know it was him, he rationalized, but the smile had done him in. He continued rubbing small circles along her cheek with his thumb. "Buffy..."
She murmured and pushed against him, burrowing her head into his chest. "Hmm..."
"Buffy..." he repeated, gently stirring her from the haze of rest, though he almost regretted it. She was so precious, so innocent and sweet like this. The girl was at peace in her sleep, so far away from the daily trials of her life that rocked the world. She seemed genuinely happy. Not at all like she was when she was awake. How carefully guarded and scared she was, when she was awake. Here, she was just asleep, relaxed, at peace. Spike wondered if this was the side of Buffy he'd always dreamed of knowing. Waking up with her in the morning, and touching her, feeling her warm body... the closest to heaven he'd ever know. Taking note she was still asleep, he leaned in close to her. He felt her hot breathing on his face. He would take this moment. Maybe daydream a little. He would say I love you, and she would smile back, instead of rack her features with revulsion. "Buffy, I love you..." he murmured, before he could stop himself.
She moaned tiredly, stretching her legs like a cat. "I know..." she mumbled, still quite asleep.
Spike squeezed her closer. And he wondered. "Could you ever love me?" he asked softly, more to himself than to her.
"Spike...?" she sighed.
"Yes love, it's me..." Spike's heart threatened a beat, anticipation driving him wild. He tightened his grasp on her. Wondering how she would react when she awoke, finding them like this. He hoped she wouldn't hate him. "Please..."
Buffy yawned and she stretched. "Spike..." she mumbled, eyes opening. Her eyes widened at the implication of those words and at seeing those swirling, charming blue eyes up so close. "Whoa!!" she yelped. Buffy jumped, scurrying out of his arms.
"Spike?!"
Spike's heart plummeted to his boots, but he forced a small smile. He let his grasp on her go, wordlessly.
Buffy's heart raced wildly. "What... what??"
"You asked me to stay, luv," Spike reminded her softly, his heart
breaking.
Buffy's eyes scanned his disappointed face. Her heart
began to slow and her mind began to clear as she thought back to last night.
"Oh...right..." she suddenly remembered her sleep filled plea from scant
hours ago. She felt her face go bright red.
Spike cocked his head to the side, seeing her face flush.
Was she embarrassed?
"Well...uh..." She patted down her tousled hair, realizing that
she must look awful....
Spike felt a smile play at his lips. God, she was beautiful...
"Thanks...for...staying..." she stuttered, nervous at his closeness. She pulled the blanket off, feeling a need to inspect her clothing.
"Didn't touch you, luv, swear..." Spike frowned at her. Did she really think him such a monster?? Okay...not that he wasn't thinking about it, a lot, but he'd never...
Buffy frowned, hating the look on his face. "Don't be silly! I don't think you..." she paused not able to pull off the lie. Instead, she changed the subject. "That was really sweet of you to stay with me."
"Anytime," Spike responded. *Whenever she wanted, whatever she wanted, whatever she needed,* he added in his mind.
Buffy felt nervous butterflies playing in her empty stomach at the smoldering look he was sending her. She took a moment to study him, and realized with no small amount of delight that his hair was all disheveled and curly, and his eyes reflected the color of a thunderstorm sky. He looked so...oh God...yes…so cute. She subconsciously found herself inching her way back into Spike's lap.
Spike wrapped his arms around her, unsure of what she was up to. "What is it..." a small finger came to his lips.
"Shh..." Buffy whispered, leaning close to his face. She had no idea what had possessed her, but she was moving on him, and she had no control. He looked too damn adorable like that, all disoriented and tousled. "Spike..." she traced his lips. Her eyes looked away from her finger, and into his eyes. Her hand cupped his chiseled cheek and she grinned at him. "You're so...beautiful." She spoke with perhaps not love, but definite fondness in her voice. She had no idea where all this was coming from. Her heart pounded so hard, it might explode. Spike was afraid the sun was going to come in and burn him to toast at any second. Had he heard her right? Was she really sitting in his lap, cupping his face? Was she really that close? Was her heart pounding that fiercely? It couldn't be...
Buffy smiled at him, brushing the pads of her fingers along his eyes till he closed them. She closed her own eyes and leaned in.
Spike knew this wouldn't last, but he would treasure this one moment forever. There was no one to stop this from happening. He'd finally get his one good day.
Buffy pressed her lips against his gently, and the coolness
of his mouth made goose bumps prickle on her arms. She groaned softly,
inviting him to kiss her back. Something inside her burst and she
felt so free and dizzy. Her mind spun, her heart pounded so hard
she felt her ribs ache. It was so amazing. Spike pulled her
small frame into his and his lips pressed against hers. He
was kissing her. Kissing his slayer. He remembered the feel
of her lips from months ago, when he'd kept Dawn's identity to Glory secret.
Dear God, he thought he'd died then and here now, was his slayer in his
arms, kissing him. He treasured the feel of her warm, salty lips,
wanting to get to know every part of her
mouth. He felt so hot inside, his insides threatened to come
to life with the mere touch of her mouth to his. He moved to deepen
the kiss, parting his lips gently. Buffy pulled suddenly back, staring
at him with big eyes. "Whoa..."
Spike looked at her, burning so much with want heat that it lit his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"This..." Buffy got up, backing away. "It's... Spike, I just can't..." She panicked. The desire for him was eating her up inside. She wasn't ready for this. Not yet. She couldn't give in to her feelings for Spike. The hurt in Spike's eyes made her cringe, but she stood her ground. "Please understand... I…we shouldn't, it's wrong… I'm sorry…"
Spike closed his eyes, and wanting nothing more to explode at the girl and call her some flimsy tease. But, that was the farthest thing she was in his eyes. She needed time; she got it. He had all the time in the world. "It's okay. I didn't mean..."
She shook her head. "No, it wasn't you..." Buffy blushed at their situation. She'd never figured herself to be this sort of spot with him. "I...uh...better get dressed."
Spike nodded from the couch. "Alright, luv..."
She got up hastily and made her way towards the stairs. Spike watched her go, wishing he could say something, anything to fix whatever weirdness there was inevitably going to be after that one, amazing, perfect moment. Instead, he was mildly surprised when she turned around at the base of the stairs to look at him. "Spike?"
"Yeah, love?"
There was a slight look of mischief in her eye, and he was relieved that she was communicating to him that their little transgression had not after all, created any awkwardness between them. "Don't tell anyone that I said this, but, you're a better kisser than Angel." She smiled and laughed impishly at the completely taken look on his face and went up the stairs with a toss of her hair.
He watched her go with no small amount of awe. Did she
just… she just… and they… and in the end, everything was still all right.
Her marveled at the implication for a moment, but was thrown off the track
when the smell of something distinctively on fire hit his senses. He jumped
to his feet and dashed for the kitchen. "Nibblet?!"
Angel couldn't sleep. He knew he should get some rest, but the constant plague of nightmares involving Buffy, Spike, and Buffy and Spike touching constantly tormented his subconscious. He made a face and rolled on to his side, trying to erase that particularly unpleasant implication. There was no way that Buffy would ever… He sighed, realizing he was in denial. He'd been with those two less than an hour earlier, and he'd seen something deceptively tender and comfortable with their presence around one another. He supposed he could chalk it up to a close friendship in the rational part of his mind, but the way they had looked at each other spoke volumes for the part of him that really mattered. He wondered vaguely, if Buffy had lied to him to save from hurting his feelings. Had she told him that she and Spike were simply friends to perhaps, ease the pain that would be inevitable if he were to find out the true nature of their relationship?
He growled. She wouldn't lie to him. After all they had been through together, he knew that she knew that they respected each other more than to lie. Though he had to agree that her being with Spike was something worth hiding. He pulled another face, and tossed onto his back again. What the hell was going on with them, then? Buffy told him they were just friends, her and Spike, and he owed it to her to believe her. He knew she would never lie to him just to save her own face, and she knew that no matter what, he'd still have her in the highest of esteem. The bottom line was, she would always tell the truth to him. So what, then? Because he knew, but the looks and light touches and comforts exchanged between his grand-childe and the love of his life last night had been more than platonic. As far as he had seen, they had practically embodied the picture of the blissful lovers. It just screamed it to him. But if he trusted his instincts on the matter, it would most definitely mean that Buffy had lied to him. It made him feel bad to even think that about her. Then what?
A third possibility loomed on the edge of his consciousness like a bad omen, encroaching on the territory of his thoughts like a silent, stalking predator, ready to pounce upon him and rip everything he deemed probable into bloody, bloody shreds. He fought it, but with each passing moment, it became a more and more likely truth amidst his random rationalizations and post-rationalization refutes. And then it was there, the only real reason that made any sense, despite his desperate want to refute or rationalize it, tuck it away in a little box and throw away the key. It refused to be pushed away and with a brash arrogance that reminded the souled vampire of Spike, it yelled and mocked at him with its truth. His golden, precious, flawless, sweet Buffy was madly, unquestionably, irrefutably, in love with a monster. She just didn't know it yet. The dark part of Angel prayed that she would never know. Prayed that that dark little secret hiding within her seemingly flawless depths would stay in its death-like slumber just below the surface, never to awaken and be forced to the light of day.
Laying on his back and staring at the pockmarked, water stained ceiling of the 24-hour motel, Angel made his realizations. Then he puzzled over them, over and over until it was quite clear that there would be no sleep on his part, and he got up and got dressed. Then he proceeded to sit at the small desk provided by the motel sitting parallel to the entertainment center, and thought some more. He told himself Buffy had fallen to Spike, devastated after the second man of her life left her, and she'd just needed something, anything to latch onto. But then, he realized she deserved more credit than that. She hadn't always needed someone. She'd been strong enough to rely on herself and that inner strength he had seen in her the first time she'd thrown him up against the building with all the ferocity and fire that the years and forged into a strong, smart, independent woman. But if she was so smart, so strong, so independent, then why was she currently ensconced in a heated tryst with an undead, soulless, demon?
That was another excuse his rational mind was thinking up to make the rest of him feel better. He knew it, and decided to stop it right there. Spike had always been different. He could never quite be completely boxed and grouped with all the other undead, soulless, savage beasts of the night. Angelus, one of the aforementioned creatures, had recognized that in Spike, but had pushed past it as something unique to the boy, which accounted for his unrestrained savagery at times. He'd recognized in Spike a passionate being who simply longed for a good fight. Spike had never truly troubled himself in his kills as Angel had, and at the time, he had thought Spike simply didn't have the patience to artfully execute a plan and a kill. In truth, Spike hadn't had that sort of murder in him. He'd been a killer yes, but he didn't like murder unless he could help it.
Spike had avoided the cream of society that Darla and Angel had enjoyed tormenting for their wealth and their weakness. He'd in truth, preferred a good fight, a fair fight, and perhaps, dinner afterwards, if he was hungry. Angel remembered a time when Spike had jumped into a fight with 5 burly, seriously pissed of sailors just because he thought it would be fun to try his luck and throw in with some real brawlers. Spike hadn't even used his demon visage the entire battle. He'd just fought. And when he'd defeated all opponents, five grown men unconscious on the floor, Spike had only taken one to feed on. When questioned on the waste of 4 other perfectly good kills by Darla, Spike had shrugged and tossed the dead body of his meal to the floor and stated quiet simply that, "he wasn't that hungry."
Dru, the mad sire that she had been, had simply laughed and clapped her hands at her brilliant creation, cooing about what a, "delightful, hooked question" her boy was. Spike had bowed and proceeded to fawn over the insane beauty, completely ignoring the bodies strewn about on the floor. Angelus of course, would have none of that. The present day Angel winced when he remembered the sound that those men's necks had made, snapping in the quiet of the night under the heel of his exquisite boots. He'd laughed at the sound, and bowed with flourish at Darla's approving applause. His sire had turned to Spike then and with a certain air of distaste stated, "watch and learn William, from a real vampire."
Spike had very irreverently told her to fuck off, saying, "What's the point of killing them if they aren't going to be eaten? Bloody waste of good food, if you ask me. Now they just rot."
Angelus and Darla had both looked at him with uncontrollable disgust, and proceeded to ignore him. He'd always been a lesser vampire in their eyes. Looking back now, Angel wished he had realized the validity of his grand-childe's claims. Maybe if he had paid heed, it would have purged the blood of some needless murders from his already besotted hands.
But he was off track. This entire time of realizing that Buffy was in love with Spike, he had been hoping Spike would rear from that love in disgust, because well, he was a vampire, without a soul. But looking back, Spike had never been a conventional vampire, if anything. The nonconformist in the boy had gone against everything that grand-sire and great-grand-sire had attempted to impart on him, on the mere premise that he disliked labels, and even more so, boundaries. He'd strove to break those lines that held him back from anything. Once, Spike had gone a week without killing any of his meals just to prove to Darla that he was in control of everything. Not the bloodlust, not his sire, or his family. He was the bloody boss of himself, and no one else. When he was told to respect his elders, he had openly laughed at the master's name and was a constant source of horrendous nicknames for Darla and Angelus in like. The only reason they hadn't killed the impudent rat, Angel surmised, was that he'd kept Dru occupied and out of the way. And lastly, when Angelus had told Spike to avoid the slayer if he wanted to live, Spike had immediately gone and looked for her, found her, and killed her just because his grand-sire had said with an almost smug certainty, that the girl called Slayer would be the one to kill young, ignorant William. Spike had always rebelled, just because if there was anyone who could, it was him.
And so yet again, why shouldn't Spike defy convention?
Why couldn't he love the slayer? If any soulless vampire could feel emotion,
it would be Spike. Just because he'd always strove to be different. And
the look that Angel had seen William give Buffy the night before only served
to concrete the evidence that the elder vampire had so vehemently attempted
to deny moments ago. Buffy loved Spike. And Spike almost certainly, loved
Buffy back. Angel nearly laughed at the irony that punctuated it all. The
one slayer that could love vampires had found the one soulless vampire,
which could love the slayer. It might have been funny, if it had been anyone
but his Buffy. Sadly, Angel picked up the phone and called Giles, pushing
all thoughts besides those of his given mission form his mind. There were
other, more urgent things to sort out first.
Giles picked up the phone, looking up as the door opened and a flaming blanket ran it, cursing non too gently as Tara and Willow moved instantly to his side to put him out. "Hello, Magic Box… oh, good morning, Angel," Giles greeted surprised to hear the vampire's voice after so long. "Um, you're in Sunnydale? Oh dear, is something the matter? No, I haven't talked to Buffy yet, I imagine she's dropping Dawn off at school. Great Expectations test and whatnot. Spike? He just arrived, why? Oh, okay then. Yes, be here within the hour if you can, he'll have filled us in by then. Very well. Goodbye."
"Was that Angel?" Willow asked; looking concerned as she folded Spike's blanket for him and laid it off to the side while he and Tara patted his smoking hair back into place.
Giles nodded. "Um yes, apparently, last night, they arrived and stopped at Buffy's. Cordelia had a vision."
"Oh. Not another apocalypse, I hope?" the witch asked, brow furrowed with worry.
"Um, I'm not sure. But they'll be here soon, and until then, Spike is to tell us everything he knows."
Spike looked up at the sound of his name. "What was that, Rupert?"
"Um, Angel just called."
"Oh. Right then. Cordelia had a vision. Nibblet's in trouble. Something nasty wants a bite of her, again."
"Oh, dear." Giles went a little pale at the possibility of another hell god.
"Now, none of that Watcher, this time is going to be different from last time. Nibblet doesn't have a hair harmed on her pretty lil' head and Buffy comes home safe'n sound, you hear? Even if I bloody well have to die again to see it."
By Spike's tone of voice, Giles wondered which of them the vampire was trying to convince. The Watcher's features softened, realizing perhaps for the umpteenth time, how fervently a supposedly soulless killer could care for two young women.
"So, are we in research mode, then?" Willow asked, ready to break out the books.
"Um…what exactly are we you know, looking for?" Tara asked quietly, eyes on Spike.
He pulled Buffy's dream journal out of the inside pocket of his duster. Buffy'd told him to bring it this morning while she dropped off Dawn at school. He'd read over what she had written on last night's dream while he had been putting the flames out of the remnants of Dawn's catastrophic attempt at breakfast, and he, for one, didn't like one bit of what he'd read. He was tempted to just go down to Willy's, get the lowdown on every single friggin' demon within Sunnyhell limits and slaughter them all. It would be nice and clean. He'd get rid of all the potential danger to his Nibblet and Buffy, and he'd be the only one running the risk of any injury. It was a bloody brilliant plan, if anyone asked him. He'd even proposed it to Buffy just before she'd left with Dawn that morning, but she'd just looked at him with that, "Are you crazy? You'll get murdered!" look she sometimes gave him when she thought he was being brash. He supposed it was good to know she cared, in any case.
Willow poured over the contents of the dream journal, scrutinizing
every small detail present until it was either engrained in her brain,
or had burst into flame from the intensity of her study. She made a face.
"That sounds horrible!"
"Bloody right it does," Spike agreed, running a hand through
his messy hair. "Worse is, Puffy's here."
"P-Puffy?" Tara asked, curious.
Willow smiled at her lover. "Angel."
"Oh." Tara smiled, because she'd never heard of anyone calling a vampire Puffy. But if anyone would dare call one by such a name, it would be Spike, she supposed.
"And he's bringin' his whole bloody surrogate Scooby gang," Spike added, looking disdainfully on some unspecific point on the table top and contemplating a smoke.
"Hello Scoobies, I come bearing gifts of food and drink!!" Xander exclaimed, shattering what little tranquility was to be had in the shop as he barreled in, arms laden with donut boxes. "Okay, maybe just food. I don't have enough hands to carry coffee and or blood for everyone," he mused, plopping the box down on the table, followed by a bottle of blood fresh from Willy's for Spike. "Okay, does blood count as food or drink for vampires? Because if it's drink, then technically, I brought food AND drink, and I was right the first time."
Willow giggled and looked at Anya, who followed her fiancé into the shop. "You let him have donuts on the way down here, didn't you?"
Anya sighed. "Well, they only had two chocolates left at the shop, and we decided we had to eat them on the way here so that no one would feel left out when they didn't get a chocolate."
"No chocolate?" Willow pouted. "Lemon jelly?"
"Surprisingly," Xander stated sarcastically, "they had plenty of those left."
"Yeah, cuz they're bloody nasty," Spike snorted. "You get my raspberry jelly, whelp?"
Xander rolled his eyes, just because it was a familiar part of the ritual, and nodded. "Four raspberry jelly's for you, you great big strange, food eating vampire you."
"And yes, we got good old glaze," Xander stated, before Giles could cut in and inquire as to his preference.
Tara didn't say anything, as per usual, and Xander smiled, grabbed a napkin, and with flourish, produced a maple frosted rainbow sprinkle donut. "And for the lady…"
"Oh! Donuts!"
Everyone looked up at the familiar, yet strange sound of Cordelia's voice as she held the door open to allow a smoking; blanket covered Angel to run inside.
"Cordy! Angel! Why are you here?" Xander asked, puzzled.
"The cheerleader had a vision 'bout Nibblet," Spike explained, tearing his donut in half so he could dip it into his blood. No one made a face at this except for Cordelia, because they'd grown used to it.
"Vision? Dawn's in trouble? What? Where? When? And why didn't anyone tell me to get more donuts?"
"Donuts?" Gunn peeked in, looking around. "Man, I'm starved. Got any glazed?"
Xander regarded the newcomer warily. "Who's this?"
"That's Gunn, Xander," Willow explained. "He's part of Scooby the Deux."
"Scooby? Like the dog?" Gunn asked, grabbing a glazed donut from the box.
"No, like the bleedin' mouse," Spike drawled, annoyed when Cordelia took one of his raspberry donuts.
Angel looked at the food for a second, then grabbed a glaze and handed it to Fred, who studied the offering intently for a moment, before beaming radiantly at him and accepting it. His eyes sparkled in return, and he took the half full container of blood left over from Spike's share. Tara noticed he was going to drink it straight from the bottle, but moved to get him a cup instead. "Where's Buffy?" the elder vamp asked, as usual, getting straight to the point. Spike rolled his eyes and grabbed another jelly donut to set to the side for the Slayer when she got back. Last time he'd eaten all the raspberry jelly's she'd nearly staked him then and there.
"She's dropping Dawn off at school."
"What?" Angel gaped. "She could be in danger, and they're
still taking her to school?"
"If she doesn't go to school, social services has threatened
to take her from Buffy and put her in foster care," Giles responded, taking
his glasses off to polish them.
"Oh," Angel muttered. "We'll wait for Buffy to get back then." He sipped his mug of blood thoughtfully, regarding his surroundings and the people there curiously. He knew everyone but the blond girl who had gotten him the cup. She looked almost petrified by the large influx of new people suddenly appearing. So much so that she didn't even protest when Wesley grabbed the maple sprinkle donut off of the napkin on the table, not thinking it belonged to anyone.
"Hey! Bloody well give that back," Spike protested loudly, causing the ex-watcher to jump slightly.
"Excuse me?" Wesley asked the vampire warily.
"If it's out of the damn box, then it's someone else's, you git. Give it back to the lady." Spike nodded towards Tara.
Wesley looked from the pilfered pastry to the young lady looking down at her hands in her lap, fidgeting. "Oh…pardon! Was this yours?"
Tara nodded timidly, and was about to offer that he have it anyway.
"Take it pet, the guests can make do with whatever's left," Spike urged her softly, so as not to startle her.
The LA gang watched the entire scene with no small amount of interest at the gentle way the supposed infamous slayer of slayers treated one young girl. It was all rather hard to take in.
"Wait, he's a vampire, right?" Gunn broke in. "Ain't he supposed to be evil?"
"He is evil," Angel shot back.
Spike flipped his grand-sire the bird, but said nothing in his defense.
"H-He's not evil," Tara protested quietly. "He's my friend."
Spike smiled at her, eyes showing his gratitude. "You know it, pet."
Cordy's eyebrows shot up. "I come back to Sunnydale and find myself in the middle of a vampire rehab program. You guys do know that the last time I saw Spike that he tortured Angel horribly?"
Xander's eyes practically lit up and he looked at Spike.
"Did you make him cry?"
"No, but I think we pissed him off royally," Spike responded.
"Wish I'da known we were gonna be friends, Harris, I'da taken pictures
of that whole thing for you."
"Ah well, it's the thought that counts," Xander answered, patting Spike on the back.
"What thought?" Buffy asked, making an entrance by coming in through the back door from the training room. "Wow. Lots of people here. I hope there's food for me?" she asked, bouncing in. Spike held up the raspberry filled that he'd saved, and she took it, biting into it and making a face of happiness. "Mmm, best flavor," she murmured contentedly, automatically taking the seat between Willow and Spike. She finished half of the donut in no time, hungry because there hadn't been time for breakfast after they'd put out the mess (and the fire) Dawn had made. "So, what've we got so far?"
"No more donuts," Xander responded sadly. "But that's about it. We were just starting when you got here."
"Oh. Kay…So what do we know?" Buffy asked, feeding the last of her donut to Spike when she was unable to finish and wiping the powered sugar on her fingertips on the blonde vampire's jeans. Angel growled low in his throat at the gesture, but said nothing. It had seemed an unconscious effort on Buffy's part, and on Spike's as well. They fed each other often?!
As I sensing his animosity, Fred reached under the table
and brushed her hand against Angel's and squeezed gently. He returned the
gesture unconsciously, and it calmed him down some. But not a lot, because
quite frankly, Buffy feeding Spike was a decidedly domestic, relationship-y
thing to do, and it was unnerving. Somehow, Angel couldn't take his eyes
off of them as they sat side by side however, and he watched with an almost
morbid sense of awe in the ways they interacted. The research began, and
Angel attempted to concentrate, though the little foibles of his ex-lover
and childe proved too much for him to bear over time. Perhaps it had been
an imagination marred with jealousy, but he saw in every little gesture,
communication or touch between the two as something intimate. An hour later
it reached breaking point, when Spike leaned in to whisper one of his infamous
humorous anecdotes into her ear regarding some silly looking demon that
he'd found. She'd laughed at him in response, a genuine, true, shoulder
shaking, crinkle-eyed laugh. It had been a completely silent expression
of mirth, but it had been enough, and Angel's resolve broke like the poorly
constructed dam it was, letting flood waters of a long remembered, painful
past wash upon his consciousness to plague and mock him. He excused himself
with a grunt and stalked towards the back for some privacy and a place
to reflect, delighting when he found himself in a training room, complete
with a punching bag. It was no Spike, but he supposed it would do for now.
Everyone looked up as Angel made a low noise in his throat and got up, duster swooshing behind him as he made a quick exit.
"What? Was it something I said?" Xander asked, though everyone present knew he'd only said it to break the uncomfortable silence that had suddenly appeared rather than out of any remorse he might have felt for teasing the souled vampire earlier.
"Only if he's just gettin' that comment 'bout the torture
now, Harris," Spike responded, not looking up from his book. "Wonder what's
got Grand-poofy's panties all in a twist?"
"Duh?" Cordelia responded, pointing to Buffy and
Spike, who sat shoulder to shoulder. "Any more touching and you'd practically
be straddling each other. What do you THINK crawled up his pants and bit
him in the ass?"
There was complete silence for a moment, and then all heads turned to Buffy and Spike, as if Cordy had uttered something completely unfathomable and they had to see for themselves. Said perpetrators jumped apart under the scrutiny instantly. "What?" Buffy glared. "It's crowded in here!" was the lame excuse.
Anya looked at Cordelia. "I was just about to say the same thing. Are you an ex-demon, too?"
Cordy made a face. "You're an ex-demon?"
"I'm Xander's fiancée."
Delia turned to Xand. "And I dated you?"
"And now you're dating, who… Mister no one?"
"He died. Bite me, Harris."
Xander couldn't think of a reply to that, so he looked down with a quick, "I'm sorry."
"I'm going to go talk to him," Buffy muttered, getting up. She stopped with Spike's hand on her arm. "What?"
"Lemme talk to grand-papa first, pet. Do the whole punching bag thing; get it all out of his system. He can be a bloody hair-puller when he's pissed." He got up before she could protest and gave her his most reassuring look, slinking out of the room in a much less poofy-glorified manner than his grandsire. Buffy frowned at the thought of him being Angel's punching bag for no reason (because there was no reason for Angel to be mad, dammit!), but relented the fact that he wished to deal with the brooding vampire first. She trusted his instinct.
In a moment, Spike was standing in front of the door to
the training room, mentally preparing himself to enter and at the same
time, wondering when he'd become such a glutton for punishment in the first
place. He grinned after a minute. "Oh yeah."
