((Okay slight crossover here, this chapter takes into account the events
involving Faith and Angel up to AtS: 4x15 "Orpheus" with a few minor
changes since its my story and I can do what I want, so there :-P. This
chapter should answer you're question Leanne8582. Enjoy!!))
Chapter 12: Old Acquaintances
An hour passed, tops, before Buffy and Spike awoke, hearing the not so pitter patter of potential feet above their heads as the came in search of dinner. The two bodies slowly extricated themselves from one another, a small smile playing across both their faces. "Hmm, drool," Buffy let a small laugh escape her as she wiped a bit of the saliva from his shirt.
He stayed her hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Yeah, but its Buffy drool, so no harm no. . ." He smiled down at her, before his eyes lifted to the ceiling, "We, uh, we should get up there. Quell the troops before they destroy the place."
"Nothing to worry about, have you seen the looks Dawn's been giving out when they don't clean up after themselves? Not to mention we got a built in butler in our little 'guesstage' there."
Regardless of what they would both rather not do, they did indeed head upstairs, getting some nutrition in them and Buffy taking a moment to shower and change before they split the girls into two groups, each one of them leading a group out to patrol opposite ends of town.
--------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------
Buffy's group was the first to arrive home, the vamp slayage having gone remarkably well with her band of slayerettes. The sight on the couch stopping her in her tracks, her voice barely a whisper, "Angel."
The dark haired vampire rose then, turning towards her, eyes locked on hers. "Hello Buffy."
The moment seemed to stretch on for ages before the blonde slayer shook her head, "What," she then noticed the other new arrival in the room, her face hardening instantly as she took a step forward, "Faith. What are you doing in my house!" The dark haired slayer swallowed, about to speak *Geez, great idea Willow* before a thin hand grasped Buffy's shoulder.
The redhead stopped Buffy's forward movement, "I asked her to come, Buffy." Turning, her friend faced her, "We can use her help and you know it. They're here to help." Green eyes stared into green eyes hoping for understanding, or at least acceptance.
Buffy glanced back at the familiar faces in the living room. Nodding slightly, her jaw still clenched, "Tell me what happened."
--------- -----------------
After sending the potentials away, introductions could wait until later, the story was laid out for her then. She listened attentively, not really wanting to believe that Angel had actually lost his soul again, *Damn, can't we just sew the thing on and be done with it, already.* However, she fully believed that Faith had broken out of prison, and the wound on her neck helped confirm another part of the story, so she couldn't really do much accept nod here and there and occasionally shooting daggers at Willow for not having warned her ahead of time.
She sighed heavily and rose to her feet as the story came to a close and to everyone's surprise, including her own, she walked out. The three left in the room exchanged worried glances as they watched her head up the stairs. Willow made to follow her, but Angel put his arm out to block her way. "Let me, please. I think we need to talk."
"Yeah, well I won't stop you if you're volunteering to be at the top of the brassed off slayer list, that's fine by me." The witch simply shrugged as he headed up the stairs, before she turned to Faith. "So, what to the see what we've been working on?"
The brunette shrugged, "Why not."
------------------ --------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
Buffy found herself standing in her room looking out the window, a thousand thoughts floating through her mind all at once.
"You, uh, you changed rooms."
She turned to the vampire, those old feelings bubbling to the surface ever so slightly, *Why, me. Why is it always me? Does every girl have to go through this, 'cause I sincerely doubt it.* She nodded to him. Crossing and uncrossing her arms absently as she did. "After Willow went all wonky last year, I switched, didn't think she'd want to spend her nights in the room Tara was killed in. No reason to drudge up old, painful memories." She drug out the words, the double meaning wasn't lost on him, and he simply nodded, taking a tentative step forward.
"That's not what I wanted to do you know. I just thought. . .after what Willow told us, it seemed you could use all the help you could get. Figured one more set of hands could only help matters, even if they were mine. But, if you want me to go. . ." He gestured towards the door while taking the final step to bridge the gap between them.
She shook her head weakly, dropping her face in her hands before running her fingers through her hair, "No, I don't. You're right. We need the help, I just didn't want to drag you into this, and Faith, oh, don't even get me started on her."
He smiled at her then, same old Buffy that he loved. *Always* "She's changed, you know that."
She gestured then, "Yeah, yeah, yeah I know." Meeting his gaze, it was always so easy being around him. "Trust me, I know. It doesn't mean I like it. You know me and my notions; I just can't stand when something doesn't fit neatly inside. So much so that I tend to stomp it and squish it down till does. Makes life simpler that way."
She shook his head at her, cupping her chin, the two halves of his braining warring with each other over how close he was getting to her. He didn't really care though, everything had been too messed up to cloudy lately, but being near her made things seem a little clearer. "No, it doesn't, not really. I think you know that."
She nodded weakly towards him, his one handing caressing her cheek while the other rested on her hip. Her own hands had moved of their own accord and were resting on his upper arms now as she looked up longingly into those eyes she knew all to well. Her voice soft, "I know."
---------------- -----------------------
As soon as he entered the house he knew. He knew *he* was there. He did his best to submerge the anger as the scent assailed his nostrils. He had spent enough time in the house that he could decipher the different scents of the dozens of girls, so the distinct odor of his Grandsire was a slap in the face.
He lowered his gaze looking towards the stairs, sending the girls off to the kitchen for now, before he slowly climbed towards Buffy's room. No real cognoscente thought in his mind as it was taking all his effort to maintain his human vestige.
He caught the last bits of a conversation, the words low but still audible to him, and there was no mistaking the bloody poofter's voice.
"I know" he heard Buffy say as he reached the doorframe, seeing the two in the room, so lost in themselves *and each other, hrmph* that they didn't even notice him. A moment was about the length of time that Spike was quiet as he saw Angel lean in, and Buffy. . .*God, no, why am I seeing this. . .* Buffy leaning up towards him as their lips met in a kiss.
He was frozen. Not a muscle in his body was able to move as he looked on at the two oblivious figures before him. Eventually it was not his body that announced his presence, but his throat, releasing a small unintended growl as the kiss deepened between the two former lovers, the noise loud enough for Buffy to break away slightly from Angel. "Spike. . ." The look on her face could easily be described . . .shock.
Somehow Spike's brain managed to start working again, "Well, well, well the more things change. . ."
"What is he doing here!" The words were barely more then a snarl as Angel's vamp face came forth, the larger man moving to lunge at the blonde in the doorway. Buffy's iron grip on his arms the only thing stopping him.
"Angel, don't" Spike's brain might have been working, but Buffy's was still pulling over time with the barrage of *Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. . .*
In just about any other situation, Buffy stopping Angel from attacking him would have brought a smile to his face, however in the current one, he couldn't quite process the fact that her hands were still on his arms, and his hands were still on her. . .He didn't know whether to laugh, kill, or cry.
The look in his azure eyes as he met hers was enough to crush her. She could almost hear his thoughts; the feelings of betrayal that she knew were going through him, wondering why she had done something to hurt him again, after everything. The knowledge had her locked in place, unable to move for fear of stepping wrong.
An almost imperceptible nod came from him then, before he ventured a glance at the still vamped out face of his Grandsire just before he turned and headed out the door.
"Spike, wait!" She moved to go after him, forgetting about Angel momentarily, only to be slapped back to reality when his hands gripped her tight, preventing her from moving forward. His voice still a growl and not even bother to lower his vamp face.
"What is going on here, Buffy? Why the hell is in your house? Coming up to your room like he belongs here?" He gripped her tighter as she tried to move from his grasp, before she finally slapped his hands away, hard. The shock bringing him back to reality as he let his human face come forward.
She didn't know what to say, so she gave the usual obligatory response, "He's been helping us."
"What? He's a killer Buffy, you can't trust him!"
She rolled her eyes as she broke totally free from him, "God, I think I know who I can trust Angel. He's changed."
"I doubt it, " he snarled.
She cocked an eyebrow at him then, "More so then your precious Faith has."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He has a soul Angel. Spike has a soul." With that she was out the door leaving behind a very stunned former boyfriend.
--------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------
She caught up with him in the back yard, just before he made it to the gate, grabbing his arm and swirling him around to face her. "Spike, I said wait!"
His whole body was boiling with rage, the emotion clearly evident as he made no attempt to hide it. "And since when do I bleedin' well do everything you tell me too, huh, Slayer?" he cocked an eyebrow at her, "Oh wait, that's right. Got me wrapped round your bloody little finger, musta forgotten. Ain't a damn ting little ol' Spikey won't do for you if you just play your cards right. Hell, half the time you don't even need to play, just be in the same bleedin' room is all." His voice was escalating now as she stared on in shock. "Let's see: Get a soul, Spike!" He mocked her voice, "Went and got a soul. Be bad again Spike!" He tugged his leather duster for emphasis, "Bad once more, Slayer. Sit back while I screw you over, again, Spike!" He stopped seeming to think about that one. Tilting his head. "Nope, sorry, Spikey doesn't play that game. Not anymore." He jerked away from her then, causing her arm to fall to her side as she watched him stomp from the yard.
She sank to the bench after he left, the mantra's of 'Oh shits' still playing in her head as she tried to figure out what to do. He needed time to cool off, she knew that. For the supposed former Big Bad, he was amazingly thinned skin. She knew this just as well as she knew everything else about him. He might play up like the tough guy, but when he was hurting he couldn't see anything else, so focused on the pain he was. Afterall, that's how he ended up with a soul to begin with wasn't it? *Just needs time to cool off,* She just hoped he wouldn't get himself dusted beforehand.
*Shit. Dusted. Angel. Oh, god!*
She bolted back up into the house passed a very confused group of girls and took the stairs two at a time to find that Angel was gone.
"Oh, shit."
Chapter 12: Old Acquaintances
An hour passed, tops, before Buffy and Spike awoke, hearing the not so pitter patter of potential feet above their heads as the came in search of dinner. The two bodies slowly extricated themselves from one another, a small smile playing across both their faces. "Hmm, drool," Buffy let a small laugh escape her as she wiped a bit of the saliva from his shirt.
He stayed her hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Yeah, but its Buffy drool, so no harm no. . ." He smiled down at her, before his eyes lifted to the ceiling, "We, uh, we should get up there. Quell the troops before they destroy the place."
"Nothing to worry about, have you seen the looks Dawn's been giving out when they don't clean up after themselves? Not to mention we got a built in butler in our little 'guesstage' there."
Regardless of what they would both rather not do, they did indeed head upstairs, getting some nutrition in them and Buffy taking a moment to shower and change before they split the girls into two groups, each one of them leading a group out to patrol opposite ends of town.
--------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------
Buffy's group was the first to arrive home, the vamp slayage having gone remarkably well with her band of slayerettes. The sight on the couch stopping her in her tracks, her voice barely a whisper, "Angel."
The dark haired vampire rose then, turning towards her, eyes locked on hers. "Hello Buffy."
The moment seemed to stretch on for ages before the blonde slayer shook her head, "What," she then noticed the other new arrival in the room, her face hardening instantly as she took a step forward, "Faith. What are you doing in my house!" The dark haired slayer swallowed, about to speak *Geez, great idea Willow* before a thin hand grasped Buffy's shoulder.
The redhead stopped Buffy's forward movement, "I asked her to come, Buffy." Turning, her friend faced her, "We can use her help and you know it. They're here to help." Green eyes stared into green eyes hoping for understanding, or at least acceptance.
Buffy glanced back at the familiar faces in the living room. Nodding slightly, her jaw still clenched, "Tell me what happened."
--------- -----------------
After sending the potentials away, introductions could wait until later, the story was laid out for her then. She listened attentively, not really wanting to believe that Angel had actually lost his soul again, *Damn, can't we just sew the thing on and be done with it, already.* However, she fully believed that Faith had broken out of prison, and the wound on her neck helped confirm another part of the story, so she couldn't really do much accept nod here and there and occasionally shooting daggers at Willow for not having warned her ahead of time.
She sighed heavily and rose to her feet as the story came to a close and to everyone's surprise, including her own, she walked out. The three left in the room exchanged worried glances as they watched her head up the stairs. Willow made to follow her, but Angel put his arm out to block her way. "Let me, please. I think we need to talk."
"Yeah, well I won't stop you if you're volunteering to be at the top of the brassed off slayer list, that's fine by me." The witch simply shrugged as he headed up the stairs, before she turned to Faith. "So, what to the see what we've been working on?"
The brunette shrugged, "Why not."
------------------ --------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
Buffy found herself standing in her room looking out the window, a thousand thoughts floating through her mind all at once.
"You, uh, you changed rooms."
She turned to the vampire, those old feelings bubbling to the surface ever so slightly, *Why, me. Why is it always me? Does every girl have to go through this, 'cause I sincerely doubt it.* She nodded to him. Crossing and uncrossing her arms absently as she did. "After Willow went all wonky last year, I switched, didn't think she'd want to spend her nights in the room Tara was killed in. No reason to drudge up old, painful memories." She drug out the words, the double meaning wasn't lost on him, and he simply nodded, taking a tentative step forward.
"That's not what I wanted to do you know. I just thought. . .after what Willow told us, it seemed you could use all the help you could get. Figured one more set of hands could only help matters, even if they were mine. But, if you want me to go. . ." He gestured towards the door while taking the final step to bridge the gap between them.
She shook her head weakly, dropping her face in her hands before running her fingers through her hair, "No, I don't. You're right. We need the help, I just didn't want to drag you into this, and Faith, oh, don't even get me started on her."
He smiled at her then, same old Buffy that he loved. *Always* "She's changed, you know that."
She gestured then, "Yeah, yeah, yeah I know." Meeting his gaze, it was always so easy being around him. "Trust me, I know. It doesn't mean I like it. You know me and my notions; I just can't stand when something doesn't fit neatly inside. So much so that I tend to stomp it and squish it down till does. Makes life simpler that way."
She shook his head at her, cupping her chin, the two halves of his braining warring with each other over how close he was getting to her. He didn't really care though, everything had been too messed up to cloudy lately, but being near her made things seem a little clearer. "No, it doesn't, not really. I think you know that."
She nodded weakly towards him, his one handing caressing her cheek while the other rested on her hip. Her own hands had moved of their own accord and were resting on his upper arms now as she looked up longingly into those eyes she knew all to well. Her voice soft, "I know."
---------------- -----------------------
As soon as he entered the house he knew. He knew *he* was there. He did his best to submerge the anger as the scent assailed his nostrils. He had spent enough time in the house that he could decipher the different scents of the dozens of girls, so the distinct odor of his Grandsire was a slap in the face.
He lowered his gaze looking towards the stairs, sending the girls off to the kitchen for now, before he slowly climbed towards Buffy's room. No real cognoscente thought in his mind as it was taking all his effort to maintain his human vestige.
He caught the last bits of a conversation, the words low but still audible to him, and there was no mistaking the bloody poofter's voice.
"I know" he heard Buffy say as he reached the doorframe, seeing the two in the room, so lost in themselves *and each other, hrmph* that they didn't even notice him. A moment was about the length of time that Spike was quiet as he saw Angel lean in, and Buffy. . .*God, no, why am I seeing this. . .* Buffy leaning up towards him as their lips met in a kiss.
He was frozen. Not a muscle in his body was able to move as he looked on at the two oblivious figures before him. Eventually it was not his body that announced his presence, but his throat, releasing a small unintended growl as the kiss deepened between the two former lovers, the noise loud enough for Buffy to break away slightly from Angel. "Spike. . ." The look on her face could easily be described . . .shock.
Somehow Spike's brain managed to start working again, "Well, well, well the more things change. . ."
"What is he doing here!" The words were barely more then a snarl as Angel's vamp face came forth, the larger man moving to lunge at the blonde in the doorway. Buffy's iron grip on his arms the only thing stopping him.
"Angel, don't" Spike's brain might have been working, but Buffy's was still pulling over time with the barrage of *Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. . .*
In just about any other situation, Buffy stopping Angel from attacking him would have brought a smile to his face, however in the current one, he couldn't quite process the fact that her hands were still on his arms, and his hands were still on her. . .He didn't know whether to laugh, kill, or cry.
The look in his azure eyes as he met hers was enough to crush her. She could almost hear his thoughts; the feelings of betrayal that she knew were going through him, wondering why she had done something to hurt him again, after everything. The knowledge had her locked in place, unable to move for fear of stepping wrong.
An almost imperceptible nod came from him then, before he ventured a glance at the still vamped out face of his Grandsire just before he turned and headed out the door.
"Spike, wait!" She moved to go after him, forgetting about Angel momentarily, only to be slapped back to reality when his hands gripped her tight, preventing her from moving forward. His voice still a growl and not even bother to lower his vamp face.
"What is going on here, Buffy? Why the hell is in your house? Coming up to your room like he belongs here?" He gripped her tighter as she tried to move from his grasp, before she finally slapped his hands away, hard. The shock bringing him back to reality as he let his human face come forward.
She didn't know what to say, so she gave the usual obligatory response, "He's been helping us."
"What? He's a killer Buffy, you can't trust him!"
She rolled her eyes as she broke totally free from him, "God, I think I know who I can trust Angel. He's changed."
"I doubt it, " he snarled.
She cocked an eyebrow at him then, "More so then your precious Faith has."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He has a soul Angel. Spike has a soul." With that she was out the door leaving behind a very stunned former boyfriend.
--------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------
She caught up with him in the back yard, just before he made it to the gate, grabbing his arm and swirling him around to face her. "Spike, I said wait!"
His whole body was boiling with rage, the emotion clearly evident as he made no attempt to hide it. "And since when do I bleedin' well do everything you tell me too, huh, Slayer?" he cocked an eyebrow at her, "Oh wait, that's right. Got me wrapped round your bloody little finger, musta forgotten. Ain't a damn ting little ol' Spikey won't do for you if you just play your cards right. Hell, half the time you don't even need to play, just be in the same bleedin' room is all." His voice was escalating now as she stared on in shock. "Let's see: Get a soul, Spike!" He mocked her voice, "Went and got a soul. Be bad again Spike!" He tugged his leather duster for emphasis, "Bad once more, Slayer. Sit back while I screw you over, again, Spike!" He stopped seeming to think about that one. Tilting his head. "Nope, sorry, Spikey doesn't play that game. Not anymore." He jerked away from her then, causing her arm to fall to her side as she watched him stomp from the yard.
She sank to the bench after he left, the mantra's of 'Oh shits' still playing in her head as she tried to figure out what to do. He needed time to cool off, she knew that. For the supposed former Big Bad, he was amazingly thinned skin. She knew this just as well as she knew everything else about him. He might play up like the tough guy, but when he was hurting he couldn't see anything else, so focused on the pain he was. Afterall, that's how he ended up with a soul to begin with wasn't it? *Just needs time to cool off,* She just hoped he wouldn't get himself dusted beforehand.
*Shit. Dusted. Angel. Oh, god!*
She bolted back up into the house passed a very confused group of girls and took the stairs two at a time to find that Angel was gone.
"Oh, shit."