Chapter 4: Fortunate Son

"You say that the demons were all taken care of before you and Angel got there?"

Buffy nodded. "Yup. Vamps dusted, hornies de-horned, smellies aired out."

"Remarkable," Giles uttered, cleaning his glasses.

"So what does this mean G-Man?" Xander chirped, lounging back in Giles' couch alongside Willow and Oz. "Is this a case of a Slayer-struck wannabe, vying for attention?" The group had gathered for a special Scooby session at Giles' cramped little condo, since the library was closed for the weekend.

"I don't think so. No one . . . except us and few others . . . knows about Buffy being the Slayer. This isn't a matter of Slayer emulation. Somebody's actually done this of their own imagination."

"What's with stern badness?" Willow inquired, puzzled. "I mean, this is pretty cool. Someone else has taken to pounding the big evil. This lets you off the hook in lots of ways, Buff."

"Well, call me old fashioned, but only one person does the slaying around here. And that's the Slayer." Buffy shook her blond hair out defiantly.

"Yes, it is quite curious, and potentially alarming considering we don't know the motives for this mystery demon-hunter."

"Really? Cause I'm thinkin' demons . . . dead. Always a big, fat 'Of the good' check mark in that category."

Buffy turned to her best friend with a sigh. "It's not that simple Will. Giles is right. We have no idea what this alleged demon hunter is about. And it does tend to give me the wiggins when somebody's in town doing my job." Willow suddenly understood her best friend's identity worries and patted her on the shoulder comfortingly.

"Oh are you having the 'What-If-I'm-Not-Best-Demon-Killer type wiggins?."

Buffy whimpered and frowned. "No. But now that you mention it . . ."

Willow shook her head feverishly, trying to repair the damage to the Slayer's self-esteem she inadvertently caused. "N-No! Buffy, that's not what I mean! I only mention 'cause you shouldn't be having the wiggins. You are totally the best demon killer out there, not to mention the only vampire Slayer. The Chosen One. The Best. Sunnydale High was a pit of death before you came and protected us from the Hellmouth."

"From the Hell-what??"

Alarmed, the whole group turned to see a confused Spike, his eyebrows arched high as he stood perched on the staircase. Giles stiffened with panic.

"Um . . . um, the Hell . . .um. . . um . . ." Willow blubbered helplessly.

"The Hell . . . Raisers," Oz calmly lied. "They're some big biker gang around these parts."

Spike's eyes brightened enthusiastically. "You got gangs around here?" Giles frowned towards Oz disapprovingly for exciting his son.

"Nomadic, my dear boy, they have quite cleared out of town," Giles mumbled, trying to salvage the conversation before Spike found out what they were talking about, or worse, was encouraged to seek and join these fictitious do-ers of violence. "They passed through town on some crime spree."

"Look here, Rupert, I'm not your 'dear boy," Spike scowled.

"I ask that you don't call me Rupert, Spike."

He had already turned to Buffy. "And you say Blondie here did the protecting?" He smirked. "What she do, screech at the top o' her giddy littl' lungs till their heads burst?" He flopped over to where Buffy was sitting and lounged next to her, so that they were mere inches apart.

Buffy gave him the patented Summers evil eye. "Yeah . . . and I think I feel another scream coming on right now . . ." She leaned over and pretended that she was seconds away from squealing in his ear. He just responded by bridging the gap between them, jutting his chiseled face near hers and giving her a saucy smile.

"Oh, I bet I could make you scream, girly." He flashed her a wicked wink and though immediately repulsed, Buffy couldn't help but be fascinated by the roguish glint in his clear blue eyes. She quickly recovered by scrunching her face into a disgusted frown. Giles yelled in disapproving anger, "Spike!"

Spike snickered as he flew off the couch, grabbing his duster from the coat rack. "Oh cool your jets, Daddy dearest. Like I'd ever venture to taint the Ice Princess's pure, snowy virtue."

"Ice Princess?!" Buffy jumped up from the couch as well, whirling to face him wrathfully. "What the hell is that supposed to mean??" Spike once again fell into a smirk when he knew he got a rise out of her.

"Buffy, perhaps---" Giles struggled to mediate.

"No, I want to know!" Buffy yelled. "Where do you get off making judgements on me when I've only known you for exactly two days---not even. I've only ever spoken to you twice, most of the time spent correcting you when you say my name wrong." She clenched her teeth. "Which, by the way, IS BUFFY!!!"

"Yeah, and in those two conversations you've really helped to make me feel all the more welcome to Sunnydale, 'aven't you?" Spike challenged, grinning victoriously when Buffy was silenced with guilt. Finding that she had nothing else to say, he turned to stalk out the door.

"Excuse me," Giles asked, his voice wavering with impatience. "But where do you think you're going?" Spike turned to face his father with a tired air.

"Out."

Giles sighed. "Yes I'm w-well aware of that. Where out?"

"Umm . . . anywhere 'cept here?" he answered a question with a question.

Giles straightened, trying his best to look authoritative. "Well I think I'm fair when I say that answer will simply not suffice."

Spike glared at Giles. "Look, Pops, I'm not one a you're bleedin' students who you can expect to play patsy with on a Saturday night." He cocked his head as he indicated the four teens, all of whom seemed perfectly comfortable with hanging out in their middle-aged librarian's humble abode.

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed indignantly. "We happen to be talking of highly cool matters with our local librarian, Mister. Like . . . books." He raised a single eyebrow. "Sexy books."

Giles resumed his attempts at reprimanding his unruly offspring. "Spike—no, I mean William." He emphasized on Spike's true name sharply. "I think if you can't adequately give me an answer, you'll just bloody well have to stay home."

Spike stared at him. "What are you saying? Like, I'm bloody grounded?"

Giles twitched his lips. "Well . . . yes. I suppose that's the proper term for it."

Spike sniffed. "Yeah right. You're good for a larf, Rupert." He promptly turned to leave again.

"William!" Giles' voice rose to a threatening tone now as he teetered on the brink of patience. "That was no joke. I meant it, and if you proceed to disobey me, I'm afraid you'll won't be going 'out' for many nights hereafter." Spike stiffened and his whole composure suddenly took on a new, challenging animosity.

"Oh I get it. You're trying your hand at the whole 'I'm-your-father-so-you-do-what-I say' gig."

"Yes, well that would be appropriate considering I am your father. And if you continue to sass me this way, I'll bloody lock you in your room!" Giles was equally intimidating now, his voice bellowing and reverberating from the wooden ceiling beams. The four other teens sat uncomfortably as the son-father battle raged on. Xander whistled, trying weakly to ease the tension, while Oz wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. Sass? he mouthed to a squirming Willow.

"Oh, you're my father, are you? Just cause you give me a roof to sleep under after abandoning me and my mum for some odd years? Don't even try to find us, don't even come to the ol' girl's bloody funeral, see if your littl' nine-year old tike is holding up? I should accept you as m' dad cause you've been showing off your bloody brilliant parentin' techniques by ignoring me two seconds after I arrive in this soddin' hicksville and then acting like y'can't stand to be in the same room with me?"

Spike straightened as he feverishly spat out his questions, his stance warrior-like, his voice hard and razor-sharp. Yet there was something that flashed in his eyes that told of buried hurt, masked by hostile resentment.

Buffy stared at him through sudden tears, feeling undeniable sympathy and understanding as he continued to rant and rave towards a stunned and speechless Giles. She knew what is like to feel unbidden anger towards a neglective parent. Just hearing Spike voice some of the raw and wounded hurt reserved for an abandoned child opened old wounds for Buffy. She continued to stare at him while the Spike glared at his father with poison in his eyes, breathing heavily the way Buffy often did when she had just finished a full night of slaying.

"William . . ." Giles started, his guilt-ridden voice beckoning just above a whisper.

"No, you know what?" Spike interrupted, his voice becoming strained and gravelly. "I don't want to hear it. I don't need any explanations from you, Father." He said the last little word with a sneer, as if it was derogatory term. "You can save them, cause I've got some explanations of my own, one being that you've got to be the biggest dick I've ever met in m' life." He turned for the door.

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Wow, so, um . . . they don't have like a . . . funky British slang for that word do they?"

Willow shook her head gently. "Not the time for the funny, Xander."

Spike went to open the door to flee when at the same moment a young woman stumbled into the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have got the wrong building again . . ." Ms. Calendar straightened and slumped half-way out the door as Spike quizzically looked at her, then shrugged as he continued to make his way out. Giles stepped into her view and waved at her awkwardly.

"Um, J-Jenny?"

Jenny Calendar's face lit up. "Rupert!" She quickly swept past Spike, who now stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her and his father. "I just wanted to deliver your book of poetry that you left at my house last night." She gave him a coquettish, seductive smile while she leaned close to him to hand the book to him. "It was very good. Perhaps you'd like to come over again next week and read more to me?"

"Oh, um, t-thank you Jenny. W-we'll see."

"Jenny?! What's this?" Spike suddenly thundered. He stalked near her to administer a glare. Jenny frowned at him.

"Um, Jenny, a-allow me to introduce to you, um, Spike. Spike, Jenny." Giles motioned towards the two. Oz, Willow, Xander and Buffy all exchanged worried looks. Jenny offered a cautious hand to Spike who just ignored it.

"You've got to be kidding me! You . . . and this . . . tarty bint?!!" Spike's mouth dropped with horrified protest.

"Hey!" Jenny sharply drew her hand back.

"I can't believe this! You dirty ol' bastard! You've been shagging this git and reading her drippy love sonnets and this whole time you don't even tell me?!"

"Bint? Git? Rupert, who is this?" Jenny demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

Giles clasped his hands and gazed towards the heavens, desperately seeking divine intervention. "Jenny . . . Spike is . . ."

"I'm 'is SON!" Spike interrupted. "Much as it sickens me in the gut to say it."

Jenny froze and her eyes widened in disbelief. "Son?" she whispered. She turned to Giles, her eyes searching for an explanation.

"Yeah, son. Course he wouldn't tell you 'bout me, why would he? Hasn't bothered to mention my existence to 'nyone, it appears," spat Spike bitterly.

Jenny shook her head with dismayed anger. "Rupert? H-how could you not tell me about this?" Sighing, Giles placed his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders, a sight which revolted Spike and sent him rushing through the door. Giles abruptly turned to see his son stalking out into the night. Panicked, he turned to the rest of the Scoobies. Buffy sprang up from the couch

"Do you want me to follow him?" She asked, gently trying to be of help.

Giles eyes shone with intense worry and anxiety. "Would you?" She nodded.

"Spike!" Buffy chased the teen through the graveyard, his bright blond hair glowing with the moon's reflection making him easily distinguishable in the darkness. He continued to stomp through the soft grass, his long legs carrying him a step ahead of Buffy. "Spike!" she repeated, and it was only then when he stopped, visibly sighed and turned around, his black duster flailing about him.

"What is it Buffy?" It was the first time he had ever said her true name and it sounded as if he strangely acquainted with it, like he had said it many times before. Buffy paused and studied his hard, structured features, which looked incredibly weary, giving them a softer impression.

"I just . . . wanted to see if you . . . if you were okay."

His lips tightened. "Did Giles send you?" His voice could so easily carry so much venom, especially when he said his father's name.

Buffy shook her head gently. "No. I . . . thought maybe . . . well . . . I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Already said that Blondie."

Buffy sighed, but paced herself. "I know what it's like you know."

He didn't look at her, just pulled out a cigarette out of his pocket and held it up to his lips as he lit it. "What do you know 'bout what, ducks?"

"I know . . . what it's like to be . . . that angry at someone . . . that someone being a parent. Someone that, despite how angry you may be at, you really need."

Spike whipped his head up at her sharply. "Need? I don't need that bloody blighter, he can rot for all I care."

Buffy once again bided her time, trying not to succumb to his brash cockiness and hostility. She searched her mind for anything she could say to make him feel better. "What I'm trying to say is, I know what it's like to be in your position . . . My mom and my dad are separated. Well, divorced actually."

"Look, did I ask for your friggin' life story?" Spike interrupted rudely. Buffy glared at him and he softened slightly. She was only trying to help after all. He sighed tiredly. "So you just another statistic in the growing world o' shiny happy families goin' defunct?" He asked, suddenly wistful as he slumped against a headstone and gazed towards the starry sky. Slightly surprised that Spike had toned down his caustic attitude towards her for at least a minute, she edged near and slumped next to him.

"Yeah, I guess so. My mom, my sister and I all moved to Sunnydale last year after the divorce."

"And your pops?"

She shrugged. "In LA. Well, he was when I last saw him a couple months ago. Last time I heard, he went tromping off to Spain to play footsie with his twenty-something secretary."

Spike whistled and shook his head as he sighed absently. "Fathers are really assholes aren't they?"

Buffy looked at him seriously as he took deep drags off his cigarette. "They can be. But not always."

"Yeah. 'Spose not. We sure as hell didn't luck out did we?"

Buffy straightened. "That's not true."

"Really? Cause from what I hear, you got lots a reasons to think so."

"Maybe I do. But you . . . Giles is good man, Spike."

Spike huffed angrily, dropping his cigarette and grounding into the grass beneath him with more force than needed. "Yeah? Can't tell that from where I'm standin'."

"I mean it. He's incredibly good and kind . . . and . . . when I came to Sunnydale, he made me feel welcome, at home. He's helped me so much."

Spike looked to her with disbelieving scorn. "This comin' from being your school librarian?"

Buffy paused. She had forgotten that she was forbidden to explain the special relationship between Watcher and Slayer that had undoubtedly was the main source of her and Giles' closeness. Somewhere along the way, she had ceased to look at the stuffy, old Brit as a mere official spotter of her Slayer activities. After a little more than a year, Giles had quickly filled the sore spot in Buffy's heart that had been caused by her parents' divorce. He became a father to her, one of the best as far as Buffy was concerned. She wished Spike could see that.

"He's more than just my school librarian."

Spike shot her a sudden disgusted look. "You mean . . . you too? GADS, what mojo does that man have to get so many bloody young girls in his pants! First that smarmy littl' gidget back there and now you?! "

Buffy once again was shocked. Just as she was getting close to actually liking---well, not that drastic, tolerating Spike, he had once again gotten his rather large foot stuck in his fairly dirty mouth. She threw her hands up in the air dramatically. "EWWW! YOU PERV! NO! That's not what I mean!"

Spike shrugged indifferently. "So what do you mean? How is it that you and my pop so are so chummy-chummy? You just have a thing for stodgy, middle-aged librarians or something? "

Buffy clenched her teeth. "Giles is like my . . . mentor. He's been a really good guide for me, that's all."

"Whatever you say pet. Doesn't mean it has anythin' to do with me."

"Don't you see? It has everything to do with you. Giles is a good man. If you stopped and gave him some credit, maybe you could see that."

Spike turned to her, his face darkening rapidly. "Look, honey, this ain't any of your business. I'd advise you to keep your pretty little nose out of it. What's between me and the poofter is between me and the poofter."

Buffy shook her head determinedly. "I care about Giles. He deserves more than a self-righteous son who treats him like dirt." She caught herself when she realized her angry defense of Giles carried her a little too far. She had never intended to say such hurtful words towards Spike, but she also wondered why she felt a twang of guilt when she saw him sober up and wince slightly at her words.

Spike continued to glare at her, his voice coming out now in thick, harsh, whispered rasps. "Shut your gob, Blondie. You think you're so-high-and-mighty making judgement calls about things you don't have bloody comprehension of. I'm beginning to see why the man o' your house left. Prolly couldn't stand to be around such an egotistical bitch."

That did it. She threw a powerful punch at him with her right arm, surprising him momentarily before he easily blocked it. Gripping her slight wrist in his hands, he gave her an amused shake of the head. "Careful chicklet. Don't want to bite off more than you can chew."

"Funny, that's just what I intended to do." Whirling around to face the source of this new voice, Buffy and Spike both saw a bulky, leather-donning vampire behind them, standing ready for a kill.

"Get down," Spike hissed, pushing Buffy out of the way behind a tombstone. Shocked, Buffy stumbled out of the way and watched in amazement as Spike roared and overtook the gargantuan vampire, fiercely punching him in the face repeatedly before stepping back to deliver a powerful kick mid-torso to the disgruntled vamp. Stumbling back, the vamp regained his footing and roared towards Spike, giving a powerful punch that knocked the wind out of him. Buffy sprang up and fingered the stake hidden in her pocket, but Spike quickly recovered and jumped back into action. The vamp tried kicking Spike's feet out from under him, but he swiftly avoided it and brought both his feet up in a kick-flip that took the vamp aback. The vamp growled with annoyance and hunger and lurched back over to Spike and swung at him twice. Spike blocked the punches and held the two fat arms in his hand before administering a head-butt that forced the vamp to fall back onto a tombstone. Spike took the opportunity to whip out a stake and throw himself onto the vamp, easily plunging it into its chest. Reveling momentarily at the rush of violence as the dust fluttered about him, Spike had ignored Fatty's pal who snarled behind him and rushed him.

"Spike, behind you!" Buffy called, but it was too late. By the time Spike had turned around the vampire had already overtaken him, lifting him up and throwing him against a mausoleum wall. Spike collapsed against it and crumpled, dazed as the vamp stood over him and licked his lips and he bent down, straining a view of Spike's neck. Suddenly, two powerful arms gripped the vampire's coat and threw him off Spike. Buffy grimaced as she faced the growling vampire. "Sorry, but you're not making a lunchable out of him today. I don't even like the guy, but if I let you eat him, I would have to let you eat everybody, wouldn't I? And my gosh-darned Slayer morals are tellin' me that's it's not a Chosen One's business to make concessions like that." Jumping up quickly, she delivered a sharp roundhouse that the vamp ducked and countered with a sharp punch. Fatty's friend was obviously quicker than his dusted pal was. Buffy tried to swing a punch and rush the vamp but he once again avoided it, ducking under, then springing up when Buffy had paused to catch her thin neck in a crushing grip. Buffy's eyes bulged in horror as she felt the cold fingers encircle her neck and squeeze hard. She wheezed and flailed her arms and limbs, but the vamp just grinned saucily.

"Come on, Slayer, you're just gonna make yourself all stringy and tough doing that," the vamp advised as he pushed Buffy's head out of the way to view her neck. Eyes glittering, his fangs descended upon her, leaving Buffy gasping. Suddenly, the vamp stood upright, eyes glazed with shock as he let go of Buffy. "Aww fu---" he began as he quickly disintegrated. The dust cleared to present a furious Spike, stake held in mid-air. Buffy gaped at him as she hunched over, grasping her neck.

"What the hell were you doing???" They screamed at each other in unison, facing each other with equal impatience.

"What do you mean 'what the hell am I doing'?" Spike yelled. "What the hell were you doing?!"

"My job!" Buffy yelled back. "Which apparently, tonight includes saving your ass from acts of unbelievable stupidity!"

"Your job?! You've got to be kidding girly, leave the vamp-killing to the professionals!"

Buffy gaped at him when she realized what he was saying. "WHAT?! What are you talking about?!!"

Spike relaxed and cocked his head, smirking. "What do you think I was doing, playin' Scrabble? I kill vampires. I'm a vampire hunter."