Thanks for the lovely feedback - I swear my head has swelled in the last few days...but then that could just be my new haircut.
Okay, enough with the crap jokes and on with the story, in which there may be one or two more crap jokes... oh dear.
**PART TWO**
CHAPTER SIX
"You can stop that anytime soon."
"But -"
"No!"
"Okay, what's wrong?" Buffy was shook from of her sandwich making zone-out and turned around to her sister and her... She took in their demeanours, one pouty and a moment away from flouncing around the kitchen in sulky protest; the other stiff and unyielding, his arms crossed over his chest and his back firmly rooted against the wall.
(Could this be the strangest get-Dawn-ready-for-school morning ever?)
"Your sister seems to have confused me with a bleeding agony aunt." He fixed his glare on Buffy, waving an accusatory arm at the offending girl.
"What?" Dawn complained in her high pitched, it's-*so*-not-fair voice. "He's a guy. I needed the point of view of a non-Xander guy-type person."
"What's wrong with Xander?"
"Yeah, Xander would make a great agony aunt. He's half way there already -- all he need's a frilly blouse."
"Shut up, Spike."
Dawn shrugged and made a noise somewhere between a huff and a snort. "He's great, just all... uncle-y."
"Sounds perfect. Why don't you go bother him?"
"Spike." Buffy drew the name out slowly, marking it as the second warning it was. He eyed the butter knife she was gripping and turning as so to catch light enough to match the glint in her eye. Shrugging and reproducing Dawn's huff-snort almost perfectly, he fell back against the wall.
"It's just that Kevin -"
"You were asking for *Spike's* advice on *boys*?!" Buffy's eyes were wide with incredulity and her voice a strained chord of uneasiness. (Not the boy thing. Please tell me I don't have to give her The Talk any time soon.)
Dawn froze, as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar, only for defiance to creep back into her eyes. She folded her arms and bounced into an asymmetrical stance. "Yeah. And?"
"Well -"
"You are far too young to be getting fuzzy feelings."
(What the -)
Buffy, still open mouthed from being cut off, turned to stare at Spike. She was about to tell him shut up once more, but was instead cut off by Dawn.
"Buffy wasn't much older than me when she met Angel."
He blinked back a flinch at the name, but was not deterred, his lips curling with satisfaction as he scored the winning point. "And look how that turned out."
"I... hate you." Dawn stormed, long hair billowing out behind her like a smoky trail.
"And I don't care." Spike said to no-one in particular, simply fulfilling a petulant need to get the last word in.
The room hung suspended for half a moment, as if a Drama had finished and the players were a-waiting applause.
"Wow! You really have an effect on people, don't you?"
He looked up at her, smirk in full play and eyes gleaming. "I have an effect on you." Sidling up to her, his head bowed and hooded eyes bored into her as he advanced. It was all too reminiscent of the previous night and her breath hitched as he made contact with her flesh, his fingers reaching under her shirt and splaying out over her abdomen.
"What?"
She repeated the words that had got caught in her suddenly constricted throat. "This is not a good effect."
"No?" His hand glided its way over her hip as he moved in closer. His breath cool and shiver inducing as he blew against the scars on her neck that burned at his proximity. She gasped and clutched at him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling his lips to hers.
"Eww!"
There was no more panicked separation, just a glide apart and a sigh or two.
"That's a pretty nasty habit you're developing there, Bit."
"Not my fault." Dawn said, her lips pressing together and forming a stubborn line as she marched up to the sideboard. "You could at least wait until I'm *out* of the house before jumping each other's bones."
"Dawn!"
"What?"
The sound of him chuckling behind her distracted Buffy from her berating of Dawn, she sighed and packed up the sandwich in a paper bag. Bending over to the fruit bowl and picking up a red and green apple, she held it up to her sister. "I'm guessing this is too much to hope for?"
Dawn shrugged, her nose wrinkling in consideration. "It's not entirely green."
"So we could just eat the red bits?"
That earned her a grin. "Whatever. Put it in -- but I'm not promising anything."
Buffy smiled and let the apple drop in to the bag with a rustle-y crunch that was so strangely satisfying, she conceded to the need to give it a light shake for good measure. "Have a good day at school."
"That'll be the day. Bye, Buffy." There was that huff-snort again that this time passed for a 'goodbye' to Spike as Dawn spun on her heel, her hair fanning out around her like the cascading sweep of a carousel. In a few strides she had cleared the kitchen and was heading for the door.
Buffy waited for the click to of the door and turned to Spike. "You really don't like her, do you?"
He snorted and the corners of his mouth twitched. "She's insufferable."
"Kinda like you then."
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"Insatiable!"
"And you're complaining?"
He made a show of trying to peer past her. "Well I was just try'na watch telly, Love..."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You and your square-eyes." She made a reluctant move to get off him, only for him to snatch her wrists in his hands to hold her.
"I can catch the repeats."
She grinned and closed the distance between their mouths.
"Oh... *bloody* hell!" He ground out in frustration, a rush of air storming through his nose. "Ignore it."
"I can't... it could be an apocalypse."
"Yeah, 'cos apocalypses just come a-knocking at your door."
"They do, if you're me." She gave him a crooked smile as she climbed off of him and headed for the door.
"Will?!"
"Yeah, it's me." Willow said, as if anyone could be left in any doubt after taking in the red hair and the tiny wave.
"Hey you. Wanna come in?"
Willow paused up on her tiptoes, newly conscious that she had been trying to peek into the house. "Uh, sure. I have something I think you're gonna like." She breezed through the door in haze of lavender and jasmine and something Buffy couldn't place.
Buffy indicated to the lounge and watched as Willow entered and her body abruptly stiffened as she came upon Spike. "Uh-oh...Hi!" The wave was this time a stiff-armed parody of a traffic-police officer's signal to stop.
"Hello, yourself."
"Say... you look less bruised."
"Uh, yeah..." Spike managed to exhibit only a vague level of visible discomfort; his elbows digging into the armrests of the armchair he had made his own. "Suppose I have you to thank for my swifty recovery."
Willow shrugged, modesty claiming her voice.
The three were encapsulated in a frozen bubble of a pause. Like a muted advert break there was picture but no sound. Willow nodded several times and Spike glanced at Buffy for an instant until, the picture of nonchalance, his attention reverted to the television. Buffy stared from one to the other, finally pointing out the couch to Willow and sitting down next to her.
"Will! You said you have news?"
Willow seized upon her cue with eye-widening zeal. "Yes! News!" She held up the velvet bag she had in her grasp. Out of which she produced a crystal ball. It was something of an anti-climax.
"I thought you hated that witchy cliché?"
Willow shrugged, the ball managing to stay balanced on her upturned palm. "They have their uses."
On closer inspection Buffy noted a swarm of purple mist undulating within the globe. "And this one is...?"
"It's a fa-" she stopped herself, as if knowing the name would be lost on Buffy. "We're not quite sure if it works yet."
"Why, what is it supposed to do?"
"Act kinda like an alarm clock."
Buffy's nose crinkled as she took the glass ball from Willow's proffering hand. "Thanks, my other one broke... keeps getting stuck at seven-thirty. So how does this thing work exactly?" She lifted it and glanced up at underside.
"I don't think she means *that* kind of alarm clock, you daft wench."
"Hey!" Buffy shot Spike a glare.
"Well it's not," his eyes settled to Willow, "is it?"
Willow shook her head. "No, he's right... it's like a warning device."
"Warning...?" She drifted off, all enthusiasm draining from her like electricity conducting through wood. (Of course, how could I forget?) "Glory," she sighed and put the ball aside.
"Just to be on the safe side, you know." Willow's hand was delving around in the velvet again and Buffy dreaded whatever she was going to pull out of the bag next. "Which is why Anya thought you should have this."
"The -" she was stumped for the name.
"Dagonsphere. The only thing we know that repels Glory."
"It's never over is it?" Buffy's eyes descended to the carpet.
Willow's expression faltered and faded altogether, her eyes flooding with concern. "Buffy, these are just safeguards... I-it just seems to be that the bads are always one step ahead of us, a-and now, with so much at stake..." she paused, her gaze flitting with a subconscious tendency to Spike. "We'd all feel better knowing you're safe."
The sentiment behind the words sprinkled like icing sugar over Buffy and she forced a smile that withered as Spike chose that moment to choke up a bitter sound of irritation. She lifted her eyes to meet his and he didn't need to say anything more.
"His 'akcur'" she imitated the sound with a magician's 'duh-der' gesture of her hands, "may have had a point. If Glory gets back to me, I'm supposed to fight her off with a glowy sphere and a glorified snow globe?"
"Always thought you had some balls for a girl." Spike said with a classic, irking smirk.
"*So* not funny." She glowered at him. Clenching her teeth to hide her smile she threw a cushion at him, a sense of gratification brewing from his muffled protest and pouting scowl. She turned her attention back to Willow.
"Okay, Wills, give me the techs."
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"No, I feel better about this now. And I'm thinking these things will make wicked-cool ornaments. Her eyes flitted to the mantle over the fire. "Much better than that yucky urn anyhow."
"I'm glad." Willow beamed full-force. Her body twisted into a stretch and she pushed her arms out, stopping when her eyes fell on Spike. "I guess we should get a few things straight." She spoke soft and serious and Buffy's heartbeat wavered as she did a double take.
"I don't like you and I have good reasons not to, what with the kidnapping-bottle-in-face-and-threatening-to-kill-Xander thing. But Buffy seems to like having you around, so that means I have to kinda like it too.
"For some reason, you being here seems to make for a whole-lot-smilier Buffy that I kinda like seeing. So if that means you sticking around, then that's the way it has to be."
"Will -" Buffy croaked.
"No! Don't interrupt me, I'm on a roll here." She bristled and with a roll of her shoulders, straightened her back, turning her attention back to a dumbfounded Spike. That was when Buffy decided she could enjoy this after all.
"Right where was I? Oh, yes. This is the part where I say something like: If you hurt her, I'll kill you. Well okay then, if you *do* hurt her, I *will* kill you. Don't look at me like that, I'm pretty nifty with a number two pencil, as it happens... Basically I don't have to like you o-or even like that Buffy likes you, but I like Buffy. You understand me?"
Silence inhaled and it's expanded lungs filled and sealed the room for an infinity or eternity, Buffy couldn't decide. She glanced from Willow to Spike just at the moment his gaping mouth closed and remoulded into a smirk.
"Completely." He nodded with complete confidence and turned back to the television.
"Well then, my work here is done." Willow smiled with quiet satisfaction and set about collecting her things.
"You going?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah. I have a whole *heap* of things I have to do to Tara -- uh," She froze a deep pink blush flourishing in her cheeks that Spike was taking far too much of an unhealthy interest in. "I mean *with* Tara -- no, that's not much better... uh, bye then."
In a flurry of motion she was gone. Spike stared after her for a moment, an expression of longing shaping and softening his features. He finally turned back to find Buffy with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.
"What?"
"You! Checking out my friend's blood circulation."
He smiled, willing to play along. "I'm a cold-blooded Vampire, I can't help it."
The twisting of her lips lifted into a smile.
"Don't worry, Love. I wouldn't want that when..."
He leered at her in a way that initiated a warming chill that fizzled throughout her body. She opened her mouth to reply with something as audacious and inane, only to stop and consider his words. She stared at him, her brow furrowing with the realised implications.
"Then why... *this*," she indicated the air between them, "when you must want..."
He shrugged. "I'll take whatever you can give me."
TBC
Okay, enough with the crap jokes and on with the story, in which there may be one or two more crap jokes... oh dear.
**PART TWO**
CHAPTER SIX
"You can stop that anytime soon."
"But -"
"No!"
"Okay, what's wrong?" Buffy was shook from of her sandwich making zone-out and turned around to her sister and her... She took in their demeanours, one pouty and a moment away from flouncing around the kitchen in sulky protest; the other stiff and unyielding, his arms crossed over his chest and his back firmly rooted against the wall.
(Could this be the strangest get-Dawn-ready-for-school morning ever?)
"Your sister seems to have confused me with a bleeding agony aunt." He fixed his glare on Buffy, waving an accusatory arm at the offending girl.
"What?" Dawn complained in her high pitched, it's-*so*-not-fair voice. "He's a guy. I needed the point of view of a non-Xander guy-type person."
"What's wrong with Xander?"
"Yeah, Xander would make a great agony aunt. He's half way there already -- all he need's a frilly blouse."
"Shut up, Spike."
Dawn shrugged and made a noise somewhere between a huff and a snort. "He's great, just all... uncle-y."
"Sounds perfect. Why don't you go bother him?"
"Spike." Buffy drew the name out slowly, marking it as the second warning it was. He eyed the butter knife she was gripping and turning as so to catch light enough to match the glint in her eye. Shrugging and reproducing Dawn's huff-snort almost perfectly, he fell back against the wall.
"It's just that Kevin -"
"You were asking for *Spike's* advice on *boys*?!" Buffy's eyes were wide with incredulity and her voice a strained chord of uneasiness. (Not the boy thing. Please tell me I don't have to give her The Talk any time soon.)
Dawn froze, as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar, only for defiance to creep back into her eyes. She folded her arms and bounced into an asymmetrical stance. "Yeah. And?"
"Well -"
"You are far too young to be getting fuzzy feelings."
(What the -)
Buffy, still open mouthed from being cut off, turned to stare at Spike. She was about to tell him shut up once more, but was instead cut off by Dawn.
"Buffy wasn't much older than me when she met Angel."
He blinked back a flinch at the name, but was not deterred, his lips curling with satisfaction as he scored the winning point. "And look how that turned out."
"I... hate you." Dawn stormed, long hair billowing out behind her like a smoky trail.
"And I don't care." Spike said to no-one in particular, simply fulfilling a petulant need to get the last word in.
The room hung suspended for half a moment, as if a Drama had finished and the players were a-waiting applause.
"Wow! You really have an effect on people, don't you?"
He looked up at her, smirk in full play and eyes gleaming. "I have an effect on you." Sidling up to her, his head bowed and hooded eyes bored into her as he advanced. It was all too reminiscent of the previous night and her breath hitched as he made contact with her flesh, his fingers reaching under her shirt and splaying out over her abdomen.
"What?"
She repeated the words that had got caught in her suddenly constricted throat. "This is not a good effect."
"No?" His hand glided its way over her hip as he moved in closer. His breath cool and shiver inducing as he blew against the scars on her neck that burned at his proximity. She gasped and clutched at him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling his lips to hers.
"Eww!"
There was no more panicked separation, just a glide apart and a sigh or two.
"That's a pretty nasty habit you're developing there, Bit."
"Not my fault." Dawn said, her lips pressing together and forming a stubborn line as she marched up to the sideboard. "You could at least wait until I'm *out* of the house before jumping each other's bones."
"Dawn!"
"What?"
The sound of him chuckling behind her distracted Buffy from her berating of Dawn, she sighed and packed up the sandwich in a paper bag. Bending over to the fruit bowl and picking up a red and green apple, she held it up to her sister. "I'm guessing this is too much to hope for?"
Dawn shrugged, her nose wrinkling in consideration. "It's not entirely green."
"So we could just eat the red bits?"
That earned her a grin. "Whatever. Put it in -- but I'm not promising anything."
Buffy smiled and let the apple drop in to the bag with a rustle-y crunch that was so strangely satisfying, she conceded to the need to give it a light shake for good measure. "Have a good day at school."
"That'll be the day. Bye, Buffy." There was that huff-snort again that this time passed for a 'goodbye' to Spike as Dawn spun on her heel, her hair fanning out around her like the cascading sweep of a carousel. In a few strides she had cleared the kitchen and was heading for the door.
Buffy waited for the click to of the door and turned to Spike. "You really don't like her, do you?"
He snorted and the corners of his mouth twitched. "She's insufferable."
"Kinda like you then."
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"Insatiable!"
"And you're complaining?"
He made a show of trying to peer past her. "Well I was just try'na watch telly, Love..."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You and your square-eyes." She made a reluctant move to get off him, only for him to snatch her wrists in his hands to hold her.
"I can catch the repeats."
She grinned and closed the distance between their mouths.
"Oh... *bloody* hell!" He ground out in frustration, a rush of air storming through his nose. "Ignore it."
"I can't... it could be an apocalypse."
"Yeah, 'cos apocalypses just come a-knocking at your door."
"They do, if you're me." She gave him a crooked smile as she climbed off of him and headed for the door.
"Will?!"
"Yeah, it's me." Willow said, as if anyone could be left in any doubt after taking in the red hair and the tiny wave.
"Hey you. Wanna come in?"
Willow paused up on her tiptoes, newly conscious that she had been trying to peek into the house. "Uh, sure. I have something I think you're gonna like." She breezed through the door in haze of lavender and jasmine and something Buffy couldn't place.
Buffy indicated to the lounge and watched as Willow entered and her body abruptly stiffened as she came upon Spike. "Uh-oh...Hi!" The wave was this time a stiff-armed parody of a traffic-police officer's signal to stop.
"Hello, yourself."
"Say... you look less bruised."
"Uh, yeah..." Spike managed to exhibit only a vague level of visible discomfort; his elbows digging into the armrests of the armchair he had made his own. "Suppose I have you to thank for my swifty recovery."
Willow shrugged, modesty claiming her voice.
The three were encapsulated in a frozen bubble of a pause. Like a muted advert break there was picture but no sound. Willow nodded several times and Spike glanced at Buffy for an instant until, the picture of nonchalance, his attention reverted to the television. Buffy stared from one to the other, finally pointing out the couch to Willow and sitting down next to her.
"Will! You said you have news?"
Willow seized upon her cue with eye-widening zeal. "Yes! News!" She held up the velvet bag she had in her grasp. Out of which she produced a crystal ball. It was something of an anti-climax.
"I thought you hated that witchy cliché?"
Willow shrugged, the ball managing to stay balanced on her upturned palm. "They have their uses."
On closer inspection Buffy noted a swarm of purple mist undulating within the globe. "And this one is...?"
"It's a fa-" she stopped herself, as if knowing the name would be lost on Buffy. "We're not quite sure if it works yet."
"Why, what is it supposed to do?"
"Act kinda like an alarm clock."
Buffy's nose crinkled as she took the glass ball from Willow's proffering hand. "Thanks, my other one broke... keeps getting stuck at seven-thirty. So how does this thing work exactly?" She lifted it and glanced up at underside.
"I don't think she means *that* kind of alarm clock, you daft wench."
"Hey!" Buffy shot Spike a glare.
"Well it's not," his eyes settled to Willow, "is it?"
Willow shook her head. "No, he's right... it's like a warning device."
"Warning...?" She drifted off, all enthusiasm draining from her like electricity conducting through wood. (Of course, how could I forget?) "Glory," she sighed and put the ball aside.
"Just to be on the safe side, you know." Willow's hand was delving around in the velvet again and Buffy dreaded whatever she was going to pull out of the bag next. "Which is why Anya thought you should have this."
"The -" she was stumped for the name.
"Dagonsphere. The only thing we know that repels Glory."
"It's never over is it?" Buffy's eyes descended to the carpet.
Willow's expression faltered and faded altogether, her eyes flooding with concern. "Buffy, these are just safeguards... I-it just seems to be that the bads are always one step ahead of us, a-and now, with so much at stake..." she paused, her gaze flitting with a subconscious tendency to Spike. "We'd all feel better knowing you're safe."
The sentiment behind the words sprinkled like icing sugar over Buffy and she forced a smile that withered as Spike chose that moment to choke up a bitter sound of irritation. She lifted her eyes to meet his and he didn't need to say anything more.
"His 'akcur'" she imitated the sound with a magician's 'duh-der' gesture of her hands, "may have had a point. If Glory gets back to me, I'm supposed to fight her off with a glowy sphere and a glorified snow globe?"
"Always thought you had some balls for a girl." Spike said with a classic, irking smirk.
"*So* not funny." She glowered at him. Clenching her teeth to hide her smile she threw a cushion at him, a sense of gratification brewing from his muffled protest and pouting scowl. She turned her attention back to Willow.
"Okay, Wills, give me the techs."
-
-
-
-
"No, I feel better about this now. And I'm thinking these things will make wicked-cool ornaments. Her eyes flitted to the mantle over the fire. "Much better than that yucky urn anyhow."
"I'm glad." Willow beamed full-force. Her body twisted into a stretch and she pushed her arms out, stopping when her eyes fell on Spike. "I guess we should get a few things straight." She spoke soft and serious and Buffy's heartbeat wavered as she did a double take.
"I don't like you and I have good reasons not to, what with the kidnapping-bottle-in-face-and-threatening-to-kill-Xander thing. But Buffy seems to like having you around, so that means I have to kinda like it too.
"For some reason, you being here seems to make for a whole-lot-smilier Buffy that I kinda like seeing. So if that means you sticking around, then that's the way it has to be."
"Will -" Buffy croaked.
"No! Don't interrupt me, I'm on a roll here." She bristled and with a roll of her shoulders, straightened her back, turning her attention back to a dumbfounded Spike. That was when Buffy decided she could enjoy this after all.
"Right where was I? Oh, yes. This is the part where I say something like: If you hurt her, I'll kill you. Well okay then, if you *do* hurt her, I *will* kill you. Don't look at me like that, I'm pretty nifty with a number two pencil, as it happens... Basically I don't have to like you o-or even like that Buffy likes you, but I like Buffy. You understand me?"
Silence inhaled and it's expanded lungs filled and sealed the room for an infinity or eternity, Buffy couldn't decide. She glanced from Willow to Spike just at the moment his gaping mouth closed and remoulded into a smirk.
"Completely." He nodded with complete confidence and turned back to the television.
"Well then, my work here is done." Willow smiled with quiet satisfaction and set about collecting her things.
"You going?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah. I have a whole *heap* of things I have to do to Tara -- uh," She froze a deep pink blush flourishing in her cheeks that Spike was taking far too much of an unhealthy interest in. "I mean *with* Tara -- no, that's not much better... uh, bye then."
In a flurry of motion she was gone. Spike stared after her for a moment, an expression of longing shaping and softening his features. He finally turned back to find Buffy with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.
"What?"
"You! Checking out my friend's blood circulation."
He smiled, willing to play along. "I'm a cold-blooded Vampire, I can't help it."
The twisting of her lips lifted into a smile.
"Don't worry, Love. I wouldn't want that when..."
He leered at her in a way that initiated a warming chill that fizzled throughout her body. She opened her mouth to reply with something as audacious and inane, only to stop and consider his words. She stared at him, her brow furrowing with the realised implications.
"Then why... *this*," she indicated the air between them, "when you must want..."
He shrugged. "I'll take whatever you can give me."
TBC