Disclaimer: I only own Buffy's family, excluding Joyce...
Previously: Buffy had a nightmare about Spike biting her and was stuck to bedrest due to the development of Spike's predicted cold. Joyce told Jim the details about Buffy being the slayer and Spike being a vampire, not knowing that Jim only knew the basics. Jack and Spike have gone out for an afternoon drink...
(---)
They sat in a comfortable silence as Jack drove patiently towards the bar. Spike kept his head covered with the thick wool blanket--but every once in a while, he'd glance out into the world that he hadn't seen in about a hundred years. Damn, Spike thought, things have changed. He almost missed the quiet, simple life of the 1800s. He recalled the people, the clothes, they speak, all the memories of his past rushed back to him.
"Whatcha drinking this day in age, Spike?" Jack asked, he was making small talk--but there was clearly something on his mind.
"Well, Jack," Spike's voice was muffled by the thickness of the blanket, "why don't we just skip the meaningless chatter and get right to what's buzzin you the wrong way."
Jack grinned--though he knew Spike couldn't see him--he had known Spike was a perceptive fellow--but he hadn't even needed to check Jack's expression to figure out he was stalling. Still, the old man refused to begin until Spike had at least a quart of alcohol in system.
"I think it would be best if we discussed this properly...perhaps when you didn't have to completely cover your head with a bedspread," Jack replied, still grinning. He heard the vampire grumble something that sounded an awful lot like 'bloody hell' before silence returned to the car.
After a moment, Spike spoke up, "Bourbon," although it sounded quiet hysterical coming from under the heaping blanket.
"What was that?" Jack inquired, leaning over to the pile that was Spike, his eyes still glued to the road.
"I said," Spike threw some of the covers away, "Bourbon. It's the only good American stuff. You Yanks have no taste."
"Hey, I've been drinking Irish whiskey all my life...and will continue drinking it until the day I die," Jack countered.
"The stuff's not bad, I prefer the Scottish stuff myself, but anything's better than the American shit they serve around here," Spike commented--only his mouth was visible from under the blanket.
"Well, I'm pretty sure they serve it all here," Jack pulled into an open parking space near the door. Spike was out of the car in moment--his skin smoking even though his was covered by the blanket--and dashing into the darkly lit bar. Jack followed a few paces behind, laughing at the spectacle the vampire presented.
(--)
"Mom, are you sure this is how you make a pie?" Buffy asked. She was wearing an apron that was completely covered in flour. Her hands, her hair, everything was a mass of white dust. She could even taste a grittiness in between her teethe probably looked like one of those fake Halloween ghosts that kids always seemed to portray.
"Buffy, I'm positive! And now you add the water," Joyce dictated. Buffy froze with her hands in mid-air.
"But I already added it," Buffy replied, "Should I really be doing this in my state of health?"
"Buffy, in two day's the rest of the family's going to be sick too, just from being around you, so, no, you can do this--well, maybe not," Joyce inspected the bowl her daughter was mixing. There was no shortening but about a fluid ounce of water floating around.
"Told ya," Buffy said quietly--still, she stirred the water-flour-salt mixture before her--she glanced at her mother expectantly.
"All right; fine; go get Judy or Joan. They know how to make pie crust," Joyce gave in, "but I don't see why you want to leave, Spike's still not back yet."
"No, but he should be soon--it's almost five; they left a while ago--besides, I want to look good when he does get here. Therefore, a shower is definitely in order for this Buffy," the slayer said, pulling away the apron. He mother took one look at her and laughed out loud. Where the apron had been, you could see the bright colors of Buffy's clothes, but where the apron had not, flour made her shirt and pants look pale--plus, the flour left a defined line--making it much more noticeable.
"Right; looks like a change of clothes are in order too," Buffy left her mother laughing hysterically to herself and padded up the stairs to her bedroom and the shower.
"Ah, nice hot water..." Buffy turned the fan on low and turned the water on very hot. She needed heat...that was the one thing she'd been lacking since her cold had come on...heat good...fire pretty...
She stripped down and slipped under the water. It felt miraculous--all the beads hitting her aching back felt like a massage--the best in the world. She tilted her head back and sighed contentedly. As she stood in that shower, the water running over her face, Buffy didn't think anything could go wrong in her life...
And then the haunting dream returned to her. In her mind's eye, Buffy could see Spike staring at her like what he had done was the complete order of the world. And then her mom...and Willow...and her dad...they all seemed so accepting of her fate. They said it was the only way she and Spike could be together.
But that wasn't true...she and Spike were happy just the way they were...and he loved her...and she loved him...well, he didn't know that quite yet...but she was planning on telling him soon enough...very soon in fact...
She expelled the frightening images of her nightmare out of her mind and began thinking just exactly how she was going to tell Spike that she loved him. She tried a few lines that she remembered from this dating magazine that Cordelia had once given her last year.
"So, Spike, I love you...yeah, no, too foreword."
She rubbed her hands together, trying to come up with something brilliant to say to him. He'd said it so easily, like it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world. Buffy, however, was having an incredible amount of trouble trying to come up with some witty way of telling how she felt,
"Maybe a letter? No, that's too impersonal," she slapped her forehead with her wet palm. This was so not working.
She decided to wash her hair--most of her best ideas came to her when she was cleaning up her silky tresses. She grabbed her Sheer Blondes shampoo and squeezed the nearly empty tube into her hand. Damn, gonna have to ask Mom to get some more. She tossed the bottle into the trash can sitting by her toilet, just outside the shower curtain.
She ran her hands through her long blonde hair, patting it down onto the top of her head. Nope, she thought, still no brilliant ways of telling Spike I love him coming to mind. She was getting annoyed; she usually did her best thinking in the shower. Maybe this was just too difficult a problem for simple shower-thinking? She tried to concentrate, but--honest to god--she couldn't come up with anything better than:
"Spike, I'm in love with you, deal with it!"
Great choice, right? Buffy tossed her loofa roughly against the opposite side of the shower. It bounced harmlessly onto the tile floor and into a small pool of water near the drain. She stared at it for a moment before heaving a sigh and bending to pick it up.
She hung it on the shower head and then reached to the faucet to turn the water off. She stood in the empty shower for a minute, her head resting against the rapidly cooling wall. Finally, she turned and pulled open the shower curtain. She grabbed her towel off the toilet and wrapped it around herself. Speedily, she dried and dressed. She pulled out the blow dryer--preparing to do her hair--when her mother knocked on the door.
"Buffy, Willow's on the phone for you," Joyce said softly through the door.
"Thanks Mom," Buffy opened the door and took the portable phone from Joyce. She held it between her ear and shoulder, while trying to pull out her makeup, "Hey, Wills."
"Hi, Buffy. I was just calling because, well, tomorrow's New Year's Eve and everything and we said we were going to have a party. The others are coming back tonight or early tomorrow, so I figured, maybe, I don't know, you could tell them about Spike...and you..." Willow suggested tentatively.
"Yeah, maybe," Buffy replied vaguely. She struggled not to drop the phone as she put on her mascara haphazardly.
(--)
Jack and Spike sat in their own little corner of the bar. There were about seven empty shot glasses in front of Spike and only two in front of Jack. The vampire just kept ordering more for himself as Jack told him of how he had fought in the war and nearly died when some jerk-off tried to bite him.
"Yeah, a lot of vamps joined the legions. Night battles only a course," Spike slurred.
"Of course," Jack agreed.
Spike took another sip of his Bourbon and then turned to Jack, "So, Gramps, what was it you wanted to tell me?"
"We've got a problem," Jack answered.
"What kind of problem? Is Buffy gonna leave me?" Spike's eyes fluttered--Jack knocked his elbow--and Spike darted up, awake again.
"Nope, bigger issue than that," Jack replied.
"What could be bigger than me and Buffy?" Spike asked. He was swaying dangerously but he seemed to stay upright.
"I don't think Jim's the only one who knows," Jim began.
"Course not...you know..." Spike said, "...know what?"
"About Buffy and you."
"Well, the whole bloody family knows about that! We're not exactly subtle!"
"Not that part. The vampire/slayer part."
"Oh?" Spike stared directly at Jack, his attention officially caught.
"The other day--when you came to my bedroom to talk--I found Kevin snooping around in my closet. He heard everything we talked about...including the vampire and slayer thing."
"Well," Spike got to his feet, still swaying, "that's bloody brilliant! Why don't we just tell the whole friggin world?"
"Spike...Sit down now..." Jack ordered. But the vampire ignored his request, instead he ambled drunkly out towards the car. Jack followed after, glancing to the window once to make sure the sun had set completely. He stepped outside, about to say something to Spike and found the vampire had passed out in the front seat of the Civic--the door still wide open.
Jack shook his head--he walked by--closed the door--and headed over to his side of the car. He sat down and tossed a look at the sleeping vampire before starting the engine and backing out.
After about ten minutes, Spike jolted awake. He looked around for a minute, getting his bearings. The street in front of him was pitch black--the only light being the headlights--there seemed to be no one else on the road though it was only about six-ish.
"You're awake...good...didn't want Buffy to find out you were drunk," Jack looked pleased.
"Yeah, the only give away would be the bitch of a headache I've got right now," Spike replied. He leaned against the leather of the seat, his hand pressed against his eyes.
"At least it's dark," Jack conferred.
"Thank god for small miracles," Spike answered quietly.
"Do you remember what I told you?" Jack asked gently.
"Like you just bloody said it," Spike riposted, his eyes still covered.
"Well, we'll just have to deal with it when the time comes," Jack assured him.
"Yeah..."
"Spike, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for him to find out like that...I didn't mean for him to find out at all...sniveling little brat..." Jack turned to gauge Spike's reaction. The vampire removed his hand and looked right in Jack's eyes.
"I know; it's all--watch out!" Spike pointed to the road.
Jack turned back to the road in time to see another car swerve into their lane. He jerked the wheel to the right. They left the road in a mass of tangled vines and foliage. Jack flung foreword and hit his head against the windshield. Spike yelled as they went barreling head-first towards a tree. The vampire struggled to get hold of the wheel but his head was spinning from the alcohol. The tree was looming and Spike could only watch in frenzy...
(--)
"I just think you should tell them before they found out some other way...or I crack!" Willow continued.
"Under a lot of pressure, Will?" Buffy joked.
"You have no idea. Xander has been calling me everyday--since I told him that you had this thing you needed to tell everyone," Willow said.
"Ah, I see. So, it's really me whose under the pressure here," Buffy quipped.
"Like I said, you and me both," Willow replied.
Buffy dropped her eyeliner into the sink as someone else knocked at the bathroom door. She moved the phone away from her ear and yelled,
"I'm in here!"
"Buffy?" Jim's voice sounded through the door. He didn't sound normal--instead his voice had a worried tone to it.
"Dad?" She opened the door, "Hold on Wills...what's up Dad?"
"It's...oh, Buffy...I don't know how to tell you this...there was an accident..."
"Oh my god, Giles?"
"No...Buffy...I'm afraid it's worse..."
"What do you mean 'worse'?" Buffy had to remember to breathe as her father finished his next sentence.
"It's Jack...and Spike..."
Buffy dropped the phone and it clattered on the tile flooring. Buffy stared straight into her father's saddened eyes. He wasn't lying...she slowly sunk to the floor--hugging her knees to her chest again...Jim got down on his knees beside her.
"Your Mom already left for the hospital. Joyce said I should bring--." Jim didn't get time to complete his sentence before Buffy was running from the bathroom. She sprinted down the stairs, grabbing her coat on the way out. She didn't even bother to close the door behind her.
She ran as fast as her feet could carry her. The hospital was a good two miles from her house but Buffy didn't even feel the exertion taking it's toll on her as she neared the brightly lit building. She went in through the main entrance and ran up to the front desk.
She hurriedly asked the nurse where to go before taking flight down the hallway--nearly hitting two doctors in her way--. When she reached ICU, she rounded a corner and saw a familiar blonde head leaning against the pale green wall. She began to breathe again and the tears started to fall. He looked up and a pained smiled broke out upon his face. She ran to him--crying--when he was close enough he gathered her up into his arms. They stood that way until Buffy's tears died down enough that she could speak.
"I thought..."
"I'm fine Pet. I promise," Spike replied, stroking her hair gently.
"I was so worried," Buffy continued.
"I'm okay," Spike assured her.
She pulled back slightly and looked up into his clear, blue eyes, "What about...?"
"He's in here," Spike pushed a nearby door open. Joyce, Judy, Joan and Grandma Anne sat around a hospital bed, sniffling. On the bed, eyes closed, lay Jack--hooked up to three thousand different wires and machines.
"Is he...?" Buffy began to get choked up again.
"Don't know yet, Pet..."
Buffy curled back in Spike's embrace as her tears let loose again. The vampire could only hold her--unable to offer anything but his words and love for her. At that moment in time, Buffy remembered everything she had been thinking about in the shower and suddenly she felt stupid and angry at herself. Everything that mattered to her was in this room...and she wasn't even sure if it was going to survive...
TBC in Chapter 14: For Thy Parting...
In coming chapters:
A conversation of Scoobies...
An argument of epic proportions...
Someone gets physically hurt (and it's not Grandpa Jack again, I promise)...