Family Ties

Part II

Chapter 1

Prophecies, Pacing & Pastries

Three hours.

For three hours, they had sat, huddled around the round table, scouring every single book on prophecies, dimensional gates and the garden-variety apocalypses. The only sounds made were the constant flipping of pages, the occasional questions and note comparisons as well as frequent grunts of disgust by one bored and weary vampire.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered in disgust, rising from the chair in a flash of black leather. The others at the table-Willow, Tara, Buffy and Faith-glared at him with a mixture of annoyance and barely contained amusement.

"Spike," came Anya's irritated voice from the door. She had just sold a woman two dozen eye of newt and pound of minx weed and, suffice to say, she was giddy with excitement for the two hundred dollars she had taken in. Still, that was not enough to curb her displeasure with Spike.

"I said that you guys could use the table, providing that you did not distract the customers," her hands were now resting on her hips.

Despite his frustration, Spike had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, luv," he muttered and began fishing his pockets for a fag.

Anya relaxed a bit and sighed understandingly. "It's okay. I don't like researching either. I'm glad that I have to run the store where I can sit behind the counter and collect my money and daydream about the orgasms Xander will give me when we get home tonight." Spike blanched while Tara and Willow bowed their heads as a bright red flush crept across their faces. Buffy and Faith chuckled under their breaths, shaking their heads at the ex-vengeance demon.

"What?" Anya asked, and put a finger to her temple. "Oh, I forgot. I wasn't supposed to be so honest about things like that, right?" She shrugged her shoulders dismissively before walking up to Spike and pointing a finger in his chest. "Just make sure you are quiet, okay? I don't want you to distract the customers because they need all their concentration so they can make wise and expensive purchases that will be profitable for me." She smiled wistfully before the chiming of the bell turned her attention to the door where another patron had entered.

Spike watched Anya scamper away and shook his head. Walking back over to the table, he plopped into the chair. "That, " he said and jerked a thumb in Anya's direction, "is one lively chit. Harris'll never get bored with her."

Reaching into his duster, Spike was oblivious to the slight twinge of jealously that flashed in Buffy's eyes. Not three hours as my boyfriend and already he's flirting, she thought to herself. She had almost said it aloud but considering that the others--save for Faith--didn't know about the new development in the slayer and vampire's relationship, she had to bite her tongue.

My boyfriend, Buffy thought wonderingly. What was that saying? --'What a difference a day makes'. Not twenty-four hours ago, Buffy had been in the midst of a two-week hiatus--permanent hiatus--from one William the Bloody. And now, they were an item, something she still had trouble believing. And not the raucous sex in every position, hiding it from everyone type item, she reminded herself. Well, the raucous sex didn't have to go, but the secrecy did. She watched him from across the table, still shuffling in his pockets for something that obviously wasn't there.

"You know Spike," Buffy said, her voice lively despite the situation, "whatever you are looking for--unless you have a bottomless pocket or something--is not there." She smiled serenely when his blue eyes pierced into her.

"Can't find my bloody fags," he muttered after rolling his eyes at the beautiful slayer in front of him. His slayer. He still couldn't fathom why fate had given him this chance. After her breakdown in bed earlier, she had told him that she was tired of it all. Tired of the fighting. Tired of the little things. She said that she was tired of being alone…

"Love, you know you're never alone," he said and kissed her softly on the top of her head. "You couldn't be alone even if you wanted to. You have the Nibblet, and the Witches. Hell, there's even the whelp and demon girl there." He traced her jaw line with one finger and she leaned into him, mewling like a cat getting its tummy rubbed.

"I know," she said softly before turning her teary eyes to him, "and I'm grateful for them. God knows, without the lot of them, I wouldn't have lasted near as long as I have."

"But…" she started before closing her mouth again.

"But what?" His gaze was filled with love and concern but also an air of firmness and she knew he was ready to come down on her if need be. She shifted under his gaze until she was strong enough to say what was on her mind.

"But they don't understand me, not like…not like you." To say Spike was thrown would have been an understatement. His stern eyebrows shot up in surprise while his lips puckered like a fish. Buffy took that opportunity to kiss him tenderly, laying as much emotion into her lips on his as she could muster.

After she broke the kiss, Buffy waited for Spike to say something. She watched his Adam's apple bob and curtailed her urge to trace it with her tongue.

Shaking his head, Spike stared at Buffy, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had to--no way in soddin' hell did Buffy ever kiss him like that--"Will Be Done" spell aside. Though they had their share of passionate kisses that weren't borne of lust and violence, she had never bestowed such tenderness to his undead lips. Not even their lovemaking the night before, as beautiful and fulfilling as it was, contained the raw power of emotion in this kiss.

Regaining his wits, Spike absently brushed a strand of golden hair from Buffy's face, tucking it behind her ear. "You have me, luv," he said, and his eyes translated all that he felt through the air and into her soul. Love, hate, rage, pain, lust, excitement, fear, shame. Even the bloodlust of one hundred years was intermingled with the rest. He didn't want to hide anything from her and though thoughts of the kill still popped into his head intermittently, he wanted to reflect to her how he had changed. Even when she…passed on, he knew he would never go back down the beaten path of torture and death. All because of the tiny woman nestled in his arms.

"You'll always have me," he reiterated and was warmed to his heart when she hugged him fiercely, all her slayer strength shining forth.

After several moments of their embrace of solitude, Buffy turned to him with gleaming eyes.

"Care to make that official," she said simply, her mouth tugging at a lopsided grin that was all Spike.

"What…what are you saying, pet?" His mind raced, daring not to believe his first impression of what her words implied.

"I want you Spike," her simple declarations cut off his thoughts, searing him like a thousand suns. "I want your body," his excitement sputtered before she continued, "I want your mind. I want…"

"Don't have a soul, luv," he said when she trailed off. She stared at him in annoyance and slapped him on the arm. But as soon as her hand touched his cool flesh, her face became serious once again.

"You don't need one, Spike. I told you earlier, you have what most people don't--humanity," she looked down, embarrassed by the passion behind her words. She examined his fingers, in awe of the power in their slender form. They told so many stories. These were the same hands that enflamed her skin at the slightest touch, chased away her pain with soft caresses, obliterating her bruises with deft massages that sometimes lasted hours.

But she wasn't naïve. These were also the same hands that had killed countless people in the span of over a hundred years. They were stained with the blood of two slayers, almost a third and were responsible for the destruction of thousands of lives. She marveled at the fact that these hands of death could contain so much love for her. But it wasn't just for her.

She had seen the way he was with Dawn. She had been the first to receive the vampire's adoration without pretense. There was something special between the two, Buffy could feel it. Dawn didn't see Spike as a vampire, hell, she never had. Even when the whole Angelus thing went down and Buffy had plotted with Spike to end his Sire's reign, Dawn was not afraid. She had sat quietly on the steps, eavesdropping on every word spoken. It was as if they were linked in some way that Buffy and everyone else couldn't comprehend. He loved Dawn just as much as Dawn loved him and sometimes Buffy couldn't help but feel somewhat envious at the open affection they shared. And in that way, she knew that her sister was stronger, not caring about what those closest thought about her relationship with Spike.

But his affection wasn't entirely reserved for the two Summers' girls. Buffy had sometimes caught him shooting looks of adoration at Tara and Willow whenever the two Wiccas were lost in each other's eyes. Anya was his buddy, allowing him free access to goods and an ear to reminisce to about the 'good ole days'. He respected Giles like no one before him and Xander…well, even that wasn't a lost cause. Loath as he had been to admit it, Spike had saved Xander's life no less than three times during the summer. When Buffy had asked him why, he had shrugged uncomfortably and only said, "Didn't want demon-girl to be alone."

Alone. What a terrible word. It was something worse than torture, worse than death. It was the worst of fates and it had been what Buffy felt ever since her resurrection. No, that wasn't entirely true. With Spike, it was different. She had told herself that being with him made her feel alive, and it did. But she finally figured out that it wasn't for the reasons that she first suspected. His presence had always reinforced to her that, no matter what, she would never be alone. She always had him, her kindred spirit, there by her side. She knew that he would never leave and it had scared her. She hated the feeling of solidarity she was often times suffocated with due to her calling, something that had increased slowly after Angel had left. But it had its uses--keeping her insulated from the pain of everyday life. Don't get too close and you won't get hurt. Of course, that wasn't really living but an excuse, allowing her to hide in her little shell of pity and denial, always lamenting on what she didn't have and never about what she had right in front of her.

Like him.

"I want to be with you, Spike," she started again, her voice confident yet shaky with residual fear. "I want you to be in my life and I want to see if I can let you in my heart like you deserve…and like I think I can." She wanted to tell him that he already was in her heart but that would involve more elaboration in the form of three words she still was too petrified to say.

"Are you serious?" She laughed melodiously as she watched his disbelieving eyes.

"Of course I am," she said between giggles. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she again turned serious. "And I don't want to hide it from them, Spike. I want to tell everyone about us. I don't want you to be a dirty secret I keep in the closest. I want you to be the comforting truth at my side…" she never finished her near-poetic confession as he enveloped her lips with an earth-shattering kiss…

"Hello?" the woman next to him sing-songed and snapped her fingers in front of him. Startled, Spike jerked his head toward the voice and saw Faith's lopsided grin staring back at him. It was only the three of them at the table now, as Willow and Tara had decided to go for a walk, to clear their heads.

"Lost in thought?" she teased as she ran her fingers through his hair. She laughed mirthfully at the death gaze he shot her, definitely displeased at her wandering hand.

"Whatever," he muttered and doubled his efforts to finding a fag.

"You know," Faith said and plastered an innocent look on her face before reaching to the side and pulling a pack of cigarettes into view, "these things'll kill you."

"Bloody hell, Bitlet, when did you pinch those," she smiled at him, noting the awe in his voice.

"Well," she said, twirling the pack deftly between her fingers, "remember how I came in behind you earlier?" She trailed off, letting him figure out the rest.

Buffy watched with a smile at the interaction between father and daughter. Though Spike did not know his true relation to Faith, their bond was nothing short of spectacular as they both complimented each other quite well. It reminded her so much of the playful banter he exchanged routinely with Dawn. Several times Spike had wilted under Faith's annoyed gaze when the researching was turning up nothing without so much as a single utterance of disdain. And earlier, before they had left the house, the vampire was being his usually irritating self and where Buffy herself began to get perturbed by his childlike behavior, Faith only smiled at him, eliciting the same from him.

Wish it worked that well for me, Buffy thought but she knew that it wouldn't. It was obvious, by the way Faith had taken up the seat next to him and how she laid her head on his shoulders a few times during the research (oblivious to everyone else) that she was Daddy's little girl.

"So, who taught you how to nick people's pockets?" Buffy heard Spike ask and it jumbled her from her thoughts.

"I learned from the best, ya know?" she replied and snaked her arms around his, her head once more resting on his shoulder. When Spike didn't answer right away, Faith rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You, dork," she said and slapped him across his chest.

"Great," Buffy said, rolling her eyes as well, "good to know that you'll be teaching our daughter the finer arts of juvenile delinquency at such an early age," Buffy laughed but stopped as she noticed the wide eyes staring back at her. Spike's were filled with shock and confusion while Faith's were mortified.

"Our daughter?" Spike asked and was interrupted by Faith before he could ask anymore.

"You know," she said looking to Buffy, "you did raise me and I really think of you as my dad." She paused, allowing herself to express the same thing she had told him last night. "You're the only one I've ever seen as my dad, and that will never change."

Spike tore his eyes from Buffy and back to the petite woman. The sincerity of her statement had totally disengaged him from Buffy's slip and he cursed his eyes as moisture began to rise behind them.

The vampire opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the familiar jingle of a bell.

"Never fear, ladies," Xander said and glared at Spike, "Junior; Pastry man is here." The brunette strode to the table, his arms full with a box full of donuts and a holder carrying everyone's expressos.

"Well," Spike said as Xander set the treats in the middle of the table, "I guess the whelp here is useful after all." He looked the man up and down derisively. "And here I thought taking up space required all your concentration."

"Spike," Buffy admonished, though she was fighting to hide her grin, "play nice."

"What?" the vampire huffed dramatically, "not like I said anything about his mug looking like it had a misunderstanding with someone's fist. Fine, I'll be quiet," He said after Buffy's glare bore even further into him.

"Cheer up, old man," Faith sung as she wrapped her arm around Spike's shoulders, "you can always listen to me make fun of him." She smiled sweetly before lunging for the donuts. "The jellies are mine!"

Two hours, a dozen donuts and several cups of Expresso later, the five researchers had yet to turn up anything new.

"Bloody hell," Faith cursed as she ran her fingers through her frazzled locks. Buffy couldn't help but smirk at the definitive Spike trait. Whether it was frustration or nervousness that triggered it, she often found Spike doing the exact same thing, usually followed by his irresistible urge to light a fag.

"I'm starting to agree with Faith over here," Willow said and laid her head on top of the pile of open books in front of her. "I mean, we've been at this for five hours and we still haven't learned anything. We haven't even found half the stuff that Faith was talking about."

"Told you it was a waste of our soddin' time," Spike muttered, flicking his Zippo on and off. He was greeted by a slap on the shoulder by his daughter.

"What was that for?" He demanded, rubbing his shoulder.

Faith gave him a disgusted look before breaking into a wide grin. "I don't know, just felt like doin' it." Everyone at the table burst into giggles and as bristled, as he was being the brunt of the joke, Spike couldn't help but grin slightly, especially when he looked at Buffy.

Although the situation was dire (Dawn kidnapped by a virtually unbeatable vampire) her laughter still held a lilt he had rarely been privy to. He wasn't sure whether he was the reason for this, but it didn't matter. She was nothing like the shell that had been sleeping with him for months. This was a Buffy who was now taking back the fire that she had lost after her resurrection. She was almost complete and once they got Dawn back all safe and sound, he knew there would be no 'almost' to that.

"So," Tara spoke up. Her cheeks were flushed from the laughter as well as some rather suggestive whispers Willow had spilled into her ear during the laughter. "What should we do. We only have," she glanced at her watch, "about eleven hours."

"Yeah," Willow interceded and smiled as Tara brushed aside a lock of her red hair, "I mean a whole five hours turned up big with the nothings…"

"Except a bite by an overactive slayer," Buffy muttered as she scowled playfully at Faith.

"Hey," Buffy's daughter replied, "I told you that the jellies were mine. Spike listened, didn't you?" she nudged the vampire playfully in the ribs.

Ignoring the jab, Spike spoke up. "Glinda's right. Five hours and not a bloody thing on this Harbinger bloke or why he would want the Nibblet," He slammed a book closed for emphasis.

"Bleach boy has a point, Buff. If we haven't so much as had a sniff of anything useful in the past five hours, another half day probably won't help, either. Plus, we still gotta formulate a plan to take the kryptonite to this Superman wannabe."

"Where's the Watcher when you need him," Spike muttered and began twirling a cigarette between his fingers.

"Spike is right," Buffy said, resigning defeat, "we need to call Giles. Maybe he can…"

"That won't be necessary," a familiar voice called from the doorway.

All eyes turned toward the voice to reveal the man none of them had expected.

"Giles?" Buffy whispered as she stood up, tears immediately welling in her eyes.

"Buffy," he began, "I…" but he never finished the sentence as two blonde blurs excitedly tackled him to the ground.

***Chapter 2 (My Future Lover) has been moved up to Thursday, August 22nd.

***Chapter 3 (The Gang's All Here) will be pushed up to Tuesday, August 27th.

***Next up, Seth and Dawn have some alone time. Interesting developments…