Buffy turned and knocked Spike out.
"Buffy! What did you do that for?" Dawn squealed.
Buffy looked puzzled. "I didn't hit that hard. I have hit him much harder in the past, and never managed to knock him out with just one punch. I actually don't even know if I ever knocked him out…"
She knelt beside the blond-bleached man and took a handkerchief out of her pocket, carefully dipping away the blood that trickled from his nose. His cheeks were rosy and warm. From the sunlight probably. An image flashed in Buffy's head – Spike telling her: "Can't wait to see if I freckle." – Would he? Light air came out of his nose, and his chest rose and fell regularly. He looked so peaceful. Buffy felt the longing for him again rising within her. 'Bad Buffy. You must be strong. Stop thinking…' She realised that she had started to adjust her breathing to the rhythm of his…
"…breathing?" asked Willow.
"Huh?"
Dawn sighed the classic teenager stress sigh over grown-ups who never pay attention: "Willow said that it looked as if he were breathing."
Buffy looked down at Spike, felt his pulse, suddenly heard his heart beating even louder than her own, and looked up at the two girls standing in the front door. "He is. Breathing. And his heart is beating."
Just then, Spike came to, blinking furiously. "Bloody hell, woman! I think you broke my nose!" He touched his face carefully.
"Spike, bloody hell yourself. What about the not cursing in front of teenagers?" Buffy glared at him angrily. "And, as we are at the 'what the hells' already, what the hell is going on???"
Spike sighed and managed to unearth the papers from the university. He handed her over the whole bunch, explaining: "Letter of invitation to teach History at UCSD; letter of admittance and working permit for the United States; letter informing me where I will be accommodated."
The girls stared at the letters and Spike without comprehending.
He sighed again. "Went out with Ce… Halfrek last night. Drinking. Made a wish." He shrugged.
Dawn started to giggle. Willow asked: "What did you wish for – becoming a history teacher?"
"No, that part was courtesy of the Powers That Be, according to Hallie." He blushed furiously. "I just expressed the wish that sometimes, and I repeat, sometimes, I wanted to be human."
**************************************************************************** **********
Sam cooed in a low, silky voice. She had a bottle with a mixture of blood and goat's milk in her hand and was nursing a furry little something that might actually have deserved the cooing, hadn't it been for the mouthful of razor-sharp teeth that could bite through bones. "Isn't it cute?", she asked Riley who was nursing a similar creature.
"Mhmn", was the only answer she got. The soldier seemed deep in thoughts.
"I only wish they wouldn't grow up so fast. The five not nursed by humans are already shedding their baby fur!" Sam whined a little bit, pointing over to the glass cage with her chin.
"Unhugh."
"Earth to Agent Finn, please report in as mentally present!"
Riley snapped out of it: "Huh?"
"Ah, you grace us with your presence again. Thanks ever so much!", teased Sam.
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking."
"Duh!"
He looked at the agent who had posed as his wife. She was beautiful, womanly, caring, and also intelligent. And he felt nothing for her. She was nothing more than a subordinate. In a cool, professional voice, he adviced: "Don't grow too attached to the Savolta baby you are nursing. It will have reached adulthood by tomorrow afternoon."
A flitter of disappointment danced over Sam's face, but only for the fraction of a second. In a tone that mirrored the detachment of Riley's voice, she answered: "Yessir!"
They sat in silence for a while, watching the demon babies finishing their bottles. Then Sam spoke again. "What were you thinking about?"
Riley hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he confessed: "Oh, you know, Spike. The vampire who watched the eggs for us in Sunnydale. He knows too much. And he is too close to Buffy. Eventually, something will slip." Riley frowned down to the demon baby in his arms. It had started gnawing on the nursing bottle's cap, and the blood-milk-mixture was spilling all over its face. Riley sighed again and reached for the towel that was hanging over his shoulder.
"But Riley", Sam tried to calm him down, trying to stiffle a laugh when the blood-milk stained the other agent's trousers, "you said you made sure that Buffy thought Spike was the bad guy."
"I did. But she is… her world isn't just black and white, and she has a tendency to question things."
"So? This is good. Might convince her that our research is important, also for her work as a slayer. I mean, if demons can be tamed…" She stopped when Riley started to shake his head violently.
"She can never know. She wouldn't understand. Too stubborn."
"You just implied that she was rather open-minded…"
"Yeah, in the sense that she protects the weak, be it humans or demons. She protected a werewolf, and she protects this vampire, since he has a chip in his head. She gives them the benefit of the doubt. Eventually, she might be ready to listen. And even if she doesn't believe at first, she and her whole Scooby gang might start to investigate, and then…" Riley sighed. "No. There is no other solution."
Sam looked at him questioningly.
"I think I just found the first assignment for our new batch of warriors."
**************************************************************************** **********
Spike was sitting on the bed in the room Buffy had prepared for the 'guest professor'. He was exhausted. It had taken the whole day to convince the slayer that no foul play was done. Finally, the gang had dug up Halfrek, and the Justice Demon had confirmed his story. Spike had been sure to hear her toss her black locks back over her shoulder through the phone, still utterly content with her achievement. Reluctantly, Buffy had shown him to his room.
The room was small, but well lit thanks to a French door window to the back garden. The desk stood next to it, flush with the late afternoon sunlight. A small bed stood at one wall, opposite of a closet and a small, empty shelve. Next to the bed, a door led to the adjacent bathroom. A bathroom just for him. Still, Buffy-scent emanated from it in waves. Did he still have vampire-enhanced olfactory capabilities, or was it just wishful thinking?
The ex-vampire laid down on the bed and let his eyes wander through the room once again. He knew he could like it here. It felt familiar. As close to a home as he ever had, both life and un-life counting. He could start to unpack, put his clothes in the closet and his books in the shelve. But he didn't. He had seen Buffy's face, and as much as the surroundings felt like home, to be unwelcome in it would spoil everything. So he would wait. Go to the university tomorrow, he decided, check in with his dean and check out the rental offers. Shouldn't be too difficult to find another place, given that this was Sunnydale and people tended to disappear and die on a daily basis.
A soft knock came from the door. Spike sat up and straightened his hair.
"Yes?"
Buffy entered the room as reluctantly as she had acted around him the whole day long.
"Spi…" She paused. "Do you want me to call you William now?"
He stared at her then shrugged. "I… I don't know. Whatever suits you, I guess."
She sighed. And stared on the floor, to a spot in front of her shoes. Stylish, he realised. As always. She fidgeted with the hem of her frilly blouse. He waited. The demon inside him would have started to speak, would have said something offending, just to get a reaction. He didn't. Not that he couldn't think of something, anything. It was just that he felt it to be inappropriate. The girl had something to say, obviously. No need to prevent her from doing so by annoying her. For example with a sentence like… he drew a blank.
"So – you're human now." Buffy, always great at stating the obvious.
He shrugged again. "Seems so."
"Is… I mean, completely? Or is the demon still inside you?" she blurted out.
"That's your concern?"
The slayer nodded, cheeks slightly pink.
"The demon is gone. Just left me a nice couple of bloody memories, is all."
She flushed a deeper pink. "Spike!"
He finally looked her in the eyes. "Oh, for crissake, Buffy, I was talking about bloody memories. In the literal sense. Reminders of my do-badding. Enough to keep me ashamed and horrified and nightmarishly tortured and brooding for at least another century – if I manage to live that long and don't kill myself before because I can't stand it anymore!"
Now her face was deep red. "Oh."
"William, this… it doesn't change anything", she finally managed to say.
"Buffy! What did you do that for?" Dawn squealed.
Buffy looked puzzled. "I didn't hit that hard. I have hit him much harder in the past, and never managed to knock him out with just one punch. I actually don't even know if I ever knocked him out…"
She knelt beside the blond-bleached man and took a handkerchief out of her pocket, carefully dipping away the blood that trickled from his nose. His cheeks were rosy and warm. From the sunlight probably. An image flashed in Buffy's head – Spike telling her: "Can't wait to see if I freckle." – Would he? Light air came out of his nose, and his chest rose and fell regularly. He looked so peaceful. Buffy felt the longing for him again rising within her. 'Bad Buffy. You must be strong. Stop thinking…' She realised that she had started to adjust her breathing to the rhythm of his…
"…breathing?" asked Willow.
"Huh?"
Dawn sighed the classic teenager stress sigh over grown-ups who never pay attention: "Willow said that it looked as if he were breathing."
Buffy looked down at Spike, felt his pulse, suddenly heard his heart beating even louder than her own, and looked up at the two girls standing in the front door. "He is. Breathing. And his heart is beating."
Just then, Spike came to, blinking furiously. "Bloody hell, woman! I think you broke my nose!" He touched his face carefully.
"Spike, bloody hell yourself. What about the not cursing in front of teenagers?" Buffy glared at him angrily. "And, as we are at the 'what the hells' already, what the hell is going on???"
Spike sighed and managed to unearth the papers from the university. He handed her over the whole bunch, explaining: "Letter of invitation to teach History at UCSD; letter of admittance and working permit for the United States; letter informing me where I will be accommodated."
The girls stared at the letters and Spike without comprehending.
He sighed again. "Went out with Ce… Halfrek last night. Drinking. Made a wish." He shrugged.
Dawn started to giggle. Willow asked: "What did you wish for – becoming a history teacher?"
"No, that part was courtesy of the Powers That Be, according to Hallie." He blushed furiously. "I just expressed the wish that sometimes, and I repeat, sometimes, I wanted to be human."
**************************************************************************** **********
Sam cooed in a low, silky voice. She had a bottle with a mixture of blood and goat's milk in her hand and was nursing a furry little something that might actually have deserved the cooing, hadn't it been for the mouthful of razor-sharp teeth that could bite through bones. "Isn't it cute?", she asked Riley who was nursing a similar creature.
"Mhmn", was the only answer she got. The soldier seemed deep in thoughts.
"I only wish they wouldn't grow up so fast. The five not nursed by humans are already shedding their baby fur!" Sam whined a little bit, pointing over to the glass cage with her chin.
"Unhugh."
"Earth to Agent Finn, please report in as mentally present!"
Riley snapped out of it: "Huh?"
"Ah, you grace us with your presence again. Thanks ever so much!", teased Sam.
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking."
"Duh!"
He looked at the agent who had posed as his wife. She was beautiful, womanly, caring, and also intelligent. And he felt nothing for her. She was nothing more than a subordinate. In a cool, professional voice, he adviced: "Don't grow too attached to the Savolta baby you are nursing. It will have reached adulthood by tomorrow afternoon."
A flitter of disappointment danced over Sam's face, but only for the fraction of a second. In a tone that mirrored the detachment of Riley's voice, she answered: "Yessir!"
They sat in silence for a while, watching the demon babies finishing their bottles. Then Sam spoke again. "What were you thinking about?"
Riley hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he confessed: "Oh, you know, Spike. The vampire who watched the eggs for us in Sunnydale. He knows too much. And he is too close to Buffy. Eventually, something will slip." Riley frowned down to the demon baby in his arms. It had started gnawing on the nursing bottle's cap, and the blood-milk-mixture was spilling all over its face. Riley sighed again and reached for the towel that was hanging over his shoulder.
"But Riley", Sam tried to calm him down, trying to stiffle a laugh when the blood-milk stained the other agent's trousers, "you said you made sure that Buffy thought Spike was the bad guy."
"I did. But she is… her world isn't just black and white, and she has a tendency to question things."
"So? This is good. Might convince her that our research is important, also for her work as a slayer. I mean, if demons can be tamed…" She stopped when Riley started to shake his head violently.
"She can never know. She wouldn't understand. Too stubborn."
"You just implied that she was rather open-minded…"
"Yeah, in the sense that she protects the weak, be it humans or demons. She protected a werewolf, and she protects this vampire, since he has a chip in his head. She gives them the benefit of the doubt. Eventually, she might be ready to listen. And even if she doesn't believe at first, she and her whole Scooby gang might start to investigate, and then…" Riley sighed. "No. There is no other solution."
Sam looked at him questioningly.
"I think I just found the first assignment for our new batch of warriors."
**************************************************************************** **********
Spike was sitting on the bed in the room Buffy had prepared for the 'guest professor'. He was exhausted. It had taken the whole day to convince the slayer that no foul play was done. Finally, the gang had dug up Halfrek, and the Justice Demon had confirmed his story. Spike had been sure to hear her toss her black locks back over her shoulder through the phone, still utterly content with her achievement. Reluctantly, Buffy had shown him to his room.
The room was small, but well lit thanks to a French door window to the back garden. The desk stood next to it, flush with the late afternoon sunlight. A small bed stood at one wall, opposite of a closet and a small, empty shelve. Next to the bed, a door led to the adjacent bathroom. A bathroom just for him. Still, Buffy-scent emanated from it in waves. Did he still have vampire-enhanced olfactory capabilities, or was it just wishful thinking?
The ex-vampire laid down on the bed and let his eyes wander through the room once again. He knew he could like it here. It felt familiar. As close to a home as he ever had, both life and un-life counting. He could start to unpack, put his clothes in the closet and his books in the shelve. But he didn't. He had seen Buffy's face, and as much as the surroundings felt like home, to be unwelcome in it would spoil everything. So he would wait. Go to the university tomorrow, he decided, check in with his dean and check out the rental offers. Shouldn't be too difficult to find another place, given that this was Sunnydale and people tended to disappear and die on a daily basis.
A soft knock came from the door. Spike sat up and straightened his hair.
"Yes?"
Buffy entered the room as reluctantly as she had acted around him the whole day long.
"Spi…" She paused. "Do you want me to call you William now?"
He stared at her then shrugged. "I… I don't know. Whatever suits you, I guess."
She sighed. And stared on the floor, to a spot in front of her shoes. Stylish, he realised. As always. She fidgeted with the hem of her frilly blouse. He waited. The demon inside him would have started to speak, would have said something offending, just to get a reaction. He didn't. Not that he couldn't think of something, anything. It was just that he felt it to be inappropriate. The girl had something to say, obviously. No need to prevent her from doing so by annoying her. For example with a sentence like… he drew a blank.
"So – you're human now." Buffy, always great at stating the obvious.
He shrugged again. "Seems so."
"Is… I mean, completely? Or is the demon still inside you?" she blurted out.
"That's your concern?"
The slayer nodded, cheeks slightly pink.
"The demon is gone. Just left me a nice couple of bloody memories, is all."
She flushed a deeper pink. "Spike!"
He finally looked her in the eyes. "Oh, for crissake, Buffy, I was talking about bloody memories. In the literal sense. Reminders of my do-badding. Enough to keep me ashamed and horrified and nightmarishly tortured and brooding for at least another century – if I manage to live that long and don't kill myself before because I can't stand it anymore!"
Now her face was deep red. "Oh."
"William, this… it doesn't change anything", she finally managed to say.