American Girls
by Sweetprincipale
Set in an alternate late season six. Spike can't believe he's this happy. He can't believe he's changed, she's changed, and that together they have this little bubble that hasn't burst yet. In over a century of looking for the real meaning of happiness and true love, he's found it in the most unlikely of places. It must be these American girls that have won his heart and his loyalty.
Author's Note: For the Elysian Fields Artistic Anniversary Challenge, a story that had a positive family dynamic between Spike, Buffy, and Dawn. Here it is, a story told in Spike's perspective as he reflects on the unlikely pair that have changed his unlife in the best of ways.
Author's Second Note: The music of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers provided the lyrics for multiple sections, they get all the credit.
Dedicated to: Wonder and Ashes, an incredible artist, and to the dedicated and patient readers who still take time to dive into the Spuffy universe with me and reviewed chapter one- literally years ago.
Part II
"Bloody hell! Bit! What're you tryin' to do, flambe me?" It's not a particularly brotherly greeting, but neither of us are feelin' exactly cordial at eight in the morning. One of us after only a few hours sleep and not bein' a morning person to begin with.
"Sorry," Dawn mumbles and shuts the blinds, then sits across from me at the table.
We stare. The movie marathon last night definitely took its toll on her. She won't admit it, but she's still a growing girl and needs more sleep than she gets. She compares herself to Buffy, but she doesn't have the Slayer metabolism to recharge the batteries as fast as big sis.
"I can't study. It's too dark in here. I need natural light," Dawn finally says, blinking owlishly.
"Turn on the lights in the room, Niblet, because it's the best you're gonna get. I'm not tryin' to help you study for geometry tests wrapped in blankets and fightin' off burns. Speaking of things that sear you straight through- coffee?"
"Yes!"
We share a smile. Buffy doesn't like her drinking it. Says it'll stunt her growth. Dawn's made of metaphysical design. She's gonna be however bloody tall they want her, that's how I look at it. Also, girl has legs like a stork. Buffy ought to be glad if somethin' slows her down a bit, otherwise I'll be beating off every man in the state who likes long dark hair and longer legs.
California is a ruddy big state.
God. What if she goes out of state for university?
I might have to beat every man in the country.
"You find lights and pages, I'll find coffee and some blood."
"Just don't mix up the mugs, okay?"
I laugh, but then I realize, we're both that tired, that it could actually happen. My laugh takes right off. "I won't."
She's a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis
Loves horses and her boyfriend, too
She's light-fingered and slick, my Little Bit. Doesn't think she's good. Thought she was bad. She's the best. Love my girl. My girls.
This is our secret. I make the coffee extra strong, put bourbon in the blood.
We clink mugs. We peer into them together and make sure hers is dark brown, mine dark red. "Why in the hell do I need to know how to bisect angles?" Dawn groans, three slurps in.
I think. "University?"
"I can't afford to go. Mom didn't-"
"I'm sendin' you. We're sendin' you, if you wanna go."
"If I even make it that far. I almost-"
"Stoppit now," I growl.
She stops. We both stop. I sigh. I know the pain of doin' useless things society tells you that you gotta do, because society says you gotta do 'em. Where's the logic in that? To play the game. Humans hafta play the game, which is why nice boys like I was turn into horrid, wicked vamps when you unshackle us from our conventions.
It's a long day, living in Reseda
There's a freeway running through the yard
And I'm a bad boy 'cause I don't even miss her
I'm a bad boy, for breaking her heart
She does a problem in huffy silence while I have wicked thoughts of another variety.
Bad. Wicked. Unconventional. Things Slayer and I can do if Bit stays with Willow and Tara over the weekend. We won't let her stay over with Janice for a bit, her mum's a walking billboard for gullible.
I don't want to crush that little spark in Bit. If you do that, you go right off the rails when you finally break free.
"To get a clean kill," I mumble into my thick, heated blood.
"Huh?" Her pencil skids.
"Bisectin' angles. Knowin' angles and knowing how to think fast. Measure distance, speed, and the rate an object moves through 'em… It comes natural to predators. Comes natural to Slayers. You have to work at it."
She frowns and erases harder. Feels left out. I smile. I am a bad man. I know how to make a lady want for somethin'- and then give it to her.
"Which is why you an' I are gonna go to the back of the Magic Box when Buffy and Rupes aren't usin' it and practice throwin' knives and gettin' shots off with a crossbow. But only if you're properly good on paper, first. I don't want you to miss an' put me in an urn, Niblet."
Suddenly, I'm falling, and I'm deaf, to boot.
And I'm free - free falling
Yeah I'm free - free falling
She tackles me! That little stork-legged thing, knocks me clean off my chair, shrieking and squealing that she'll ace everything, ever, if I promise to train her.
When Buffy tears into the room, wide-eyed and panicked, weapons in hand, Dawn is still sitting on me and laughing.
A year or so ago, I'd have been de-invited or doused in holy water before I could open my mouth. Now?
Buffy sighs and closes her eyes in exhaustion as she tucks her stake away. "What did you promise her this time? It better not be a car, Spike."
"If I ace all my geometry stuff, Spike's going to help me train."
One eyebrow goes up, slowly.
Hell. Flayed alive.
"That's… reasonable. Training in a controlled situation, right?"
She never ceases to surprise me. I get up with a gentle shove to Dawn's gangly limbs. "I promise. In the Magic Box. Practical math applications, y'see?"
"I see." Buffy smiles and walks over to me as I rise.
Things I thought I would never see. She slips her arms around my neck and kisses me- in front of Dawn, who goes back to yippin' and squealing.
"I'm going back to bed for a couple more hours. Okay?"
"Okay," I agree. Maybe I'm whipped. I tug her back firmly and kiss her again, feeling her warm mouth melt onto mine and she smiles when we're done.
Nah. Just loved.
All the vampires walking through the valley
Move west down Ventura boulevard
"Dawn's sleeping over at Willow's."
"She mentioned."
We patrol together if Dawn's safe with one of the White Hats. We take it in turns if not. It's quite domestic. I'm actually good at domestic. I did it for Mum. For Dru. For my girls, I'll do it a thousand times better.
But I'm not domesticated. "Feelin' homesick, suddenly," I hiss as we pass my old crypt.
"You are?" Buffy's voice slinks down the octave, throaty without trying. A whisper, a brush, a tease to my senses, like the suggestion teases hers.
I laugh against her cheek as I pull her into the darkness.
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
"Spike, we -"
"We'll stand up."
"What?"
"Standin' up works fine for us. We did it loads of times, the fast food place, the balcony of the Bronze, the-"
"Stop."
And the good girls are home with broken hearts
I'm an idiot. To me, having her was good. Always good, in any way, it was better than what I had before. It was all I wanted, her. Messed that up. Messing up now, too. Her stricken face tells me those interludes were dark and sober, even if they began something good.
"This is good. This is different," I plead. "I only wanted to be with you, Slayer, any place, any time. We don't have to do a damn thing here."
Her cloudy face lets a glimmer of sunshine smile through. Like her. Always sun to my darkness. Light for my path. "I wasn't in love with you then."
"I know."
"I'm in love with you now."
I can't stand anyway, not now. I can for about thirty more seconds, then I'll need to sit. She makes me jelly-legged. I hate that, really. Big Bad Vampire here, done in by three little words.
Maybe I am whipped.
"We'll stash stuff here. Blankets and snacks and candles…" Buffy is off and planning ways to make spontaneity less spontaneous, but I don't give a damn. I nod in a happy haze, lost in the tumble of her voice until she says-
"- have so many more options tonight since Dawn's out of the house and we can do anything we want in any room we want."
Well. That's a picture. Several, all at once.
Slayer on the kitchen island, naked and covered in whipped cream and strawberries, the perfect midnight snack.
Slayer and I rutting like there's no tomorrow and no neighbors, on our bed, to hell with mattress springs that weren't meant for superhuman knees and hands.
Those handcuffs… How sturdy is the banister?
No. No handcuffs.
She chains me to her side with a smile and now I think the chain is more mutual. It's a safety net. Anchor. We're all tied together, to keep one of us from being swept away, lost at sea.
"I love your plan."
"My plans are superior," Buffy preens.
"Which rooms did you have in mind?"
"Um. All of them? Except Dawn's?"
I love this woman. "I love you. Forever. Always. You know that, right?"
"I'm your girl?"
"No one else's?"
I'm bein' brave. I never ask that. I ask if she's my girl. I don't ask if I'm alone in that ownership. She knows she owns me, lock, stock, barrel, heart, what passes for a soul.
I expect a bit of reluctance, but none arrives. She smiles at me and grips my hand harder as she tugs me from the crypt and back to home. "I'm a one-man woman. I'm only yours."
I lunge and growl and chase her, revved up now, high on possession, being one and having one.
We count the back porch as the first room that night.
To be continued…
Author's End Note: Thank you so much, friends and readers. If you would like to read more works of spuffy-based erotica, I hope you will head to Amazon and check out works by S.C. Principale. The CrossRealms series is set in a reworked "Model Romance" universe, for those of you who have enjoyed that series. CrossRealms: Whole, Book Three of the Trilogy, is supposed to come out next month!