It was like walking around in a stinky bubble, Buffy decided, pondering the smell that always followed her home after a shift at the Doublemeat. She'd have to take an extra long shower if she wanted Spike to come anywhere near her tonight; damn those vampires and their super senses. Not that he minded. He would still want her if she had spent the day rolling around naked in the drippings from the deep fryer (he might, in fact, be turned on by the visual), but she wasn't quite as adventurous.
"I'm home, who's here?" she called as she stepped gratefully through the front door and immediately began shedding the outer layers of her loathsome grease-laden uniform. "Don't worry, I didn't bring dinner with me," she added for Dawn's sake. Dawn had made it clear that Doublemeat Palace food was no longer acceptable sustenance.
"Buffy?"
Buffy turned to see Dawn standing in the hallway that led to the kitchen, looking nervous and twitchy, practically bouncing on her heels. "That's my name. What's up?"
"Buffy, it's, ah … well, someone is … um …"
"It's all right, Dawnie, I don't think I need a formal introduction."
Dawn squeezed her eyes shut as the voice spoke from behind her. She'd wanted to warn Buffy first. A warning would have been good, judging from the look on her sister's face.
After a long, awkward pause, he said, "Or maybe I do?"
Buffy found her voice. "Angel?"
He smiled. "Okay, good. You remember my name; that's progress."
"Angel."
"Yep, still me."
"Angel! What are you—hi. And what are you doing here?"
"I had business in town; we got a tip about a shaman who might be able to help us with one of our cases. I thought I'd drop in and check on you while I'm here. The way we left things before …."
He trailed off, and Buffy thought back to their last encounter, when he had first heard the news of her resurrection. They'd met on neutral territory, in a town about halfway between L.A. and Sunnydale and proceeded to spend the next twenty-four hours hashing out all their issues and reaffirming their reasons for not being together. It hadn't been pretty, and she hadn't cried. She seemed to remember that simple fact being more upsetting than the situation itself, the absolute lack of emotional impact over something that once would have torn her apart.
"Oh," Buffy said weakly. Suddenly struck by an unnerving thought, she looked sharply at Dawn. "Dawnie, where's—?"
"Out."
"Did he—?"
"No, Angel got here after."
Resisting the urge to sigh with relief, Buffy nodded. "Okay, then, good. Angel, come, sit down. Do you want anything? A drink? Blood? We have—" She bit the words off, in no way prepared to explain why there was a month's supply of pig's blood stored in their freezer.
"No thanks, I'm fine," Angel said, taking a seat on one end of the couch and giving Buffy a strange, searching look.
Buffy took her sister's arm and tried to steer her into the living room, hoping that maybe her presence would help quell some of the looming awkwardness, but Dawn resisted, pulling out of Buffy's grasp and heading for the stairs. "I've got homework," she announced. "Besides," she added with a trace of malicious delight, "I'm grounded; I'm not supposed to be hanging out or having fun." At Buffy's glare, Dawn grinned and ran up to her room.
Silence descended on the two left in the living room. At last Angel cleared his throat. "So," he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "Spike."
Startled, Buffy raised her eyes to meet his. "Wha—huh? How—? No!"
"No?"
"NO!"
"Buffy, really. There's no need to lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you, Angel. I don't even know what you're talking about."
"You don't know what I'm talking about? Listen, I'm just curious, and maybe a little concerned. I'm not judging."
"You are judging. You're always judging. You're the judgiest person I know. And this time, you're wrong. So you can take your judgment and just—stick it!"
"Stick it?"
"Will you stop repeating everything I say?"
"Will you stop being so—okay, no. I'm not going to play this game with you, Buffy. Just believe me when I tell you that you're making an enormous and quite possibly dangerous mistake. And the fact that you won't even admit what we both know damn well is the truth should give you some idea that I'm right."
"Where do you get off talking to me this way? You have no clue what's going on in my life."
"And you're up to date on mine?"
"No, but I'm not showing up at your door spewing words of wisdom from Angel Knows Best!"
"Buffy, Spike is a topic about which I really do know best. I spent a lot of years with the guy, and I know him, much better than I want to. And I think that qualifies me to tell you I really hate the idea of you and he—"
"Speaking of that past you share, he's told me a few things about you that I'd rather not know," Buffy threw in hotly. "So I'd advise you to refrain from talking to me about the good old days with Spike and Darla and Drusilla. The subject kind of makes me sick."
Angel flinched a little at her tone. He looked at this girl he still loved who positively reeked of his old nemesis, and he had to fight back the flash of irrational anger that she would be so stupid as to be taken in by Spike. She was glaring at him, challenging him to say another word about the man who shared her bed. Behind her, a tall figure in a black leather coat appeared in the hallway shadows, silent as only a vampire can be, noticed only by Angel.
"How long have you been sleeping with him?" Angel asked calculatedly.
Her lie was reflexive, automatic. It seemed to surprise her. "I'm not sleeping with Spike!"
Satisfied, Angel sat back on the couch to watch as Spike stepped into view, adopting his old cocky swagger as if to camouflage his bruised pride. "Is that so, Slayer?" he asked quietly. "Could have fooled me."
Buffy gasped and turned to face him, her cheeks flushing. "Spike! I didn't hear you come in."
He smirked at her, his eyes cold. "Obviously."
"I didn't mean … it's none of his business what's going on. I was just telling him that."
"We'd hate to have Gramps here thinking good sweet Buffy was doing something so depraved as shagging a vampire … oh, wait." He turned a hateful glare on Angel, who was wearing the tiniest hint of a smile. "Only with me she doesn't have to worry about being murdered in her bed once I've got my rocks off."
"I wonder how fast that would change if your muzzle ever came off," Angel said lightly.
"Guys, stop it," Buffy said. "Spike, can we talk about this later?"
"Why's that, pet? Why not skip the talk and just show Angel what we do best?" His eyes were fixed on his grandsire as he spoke, and the heat of hatred between them was thick in the air.
"Knock it off," Buffy said, slapping Spike's hand away from her waist as he reached for her.
"Tell him," Spike said, putting his hands on her butt and pulling her against him. "Tell him who you belong to. Tell him who makes you scream every night."
"Spike." Buffy's tone was cold as ice. "Stop it."
Angel stood up and moved toward them. "Get your hands off her, William. I'm warning you."
"Not yours to command anymore, Angel. That's gotta smart a bit, yeah? After all these years you still can't stand to lose anything to me. All those times you banged Dru just to show me who was boss … doesn't matter now that I've won the only thing you ever really wanted."
With a mighty shove, Buffy broke free of Spike's embrace, and there was a loud, flat crack as her palm whipped hard across his cheek. "No one has won me," she said, her voice shaking with anger. "Keep whatever this is between the two of you. I want no part of it." With that, she stalked out of the room and upstairs, slamming her bedroom door so hard a painting fell off the wall in the hallway.
In her own bedroom, Dawn looked up from the science textbook she hadn't really been studying. Curious, she went out to the landing. Buffy's door was closed, and she could hear Angel and Spike downstairs. Uh oh … Angel and Spike. She tiptoed down until she could see them through the banister bars, standing a few feet apart and speaking in quiet but deadly voices. Spike's back was to her, and she couldn't quite make out their words, but it was apparent from the expression on Angel's face that they weren't discussing the weather.
Thinking maybe she could break the tension, she took a deep breath and went to mediate the two vampires in her living room. Without turning around, Spike said, "Go back upstairs, Bit. This doesn't concern you."
"Maybe it does," Angel countered. "Maybe Dawnie needs to know what you're all about. Everyone seems to have you pretty miscalculated, Spike. What have you done to convince them? Or are they just blind followers?"
"Don't you look at her," Spike said as Angel's eyes met Dawn's over his shoulder. "I'll dust you where you stand."
"I'd like to see you try." Angel took a threatening step toward Spike.
"Hey!" Dawn protested, moving up next to Spike and threading her arm through his. "How about a nice glass of blood? I'll warm it up, you guys can have a seat and maybe chill out a little. Put things in perspective. What do you say?" She looked back and forth between them hopefully.
Spike finally turned to look at her. "Go back to your room, Dawn."
"No need, Dawn," Angel said as the girl, realizing Spike meant business, turned to go. "Tell your sister—tell her I'm sorry. I'm right, but I'm sorry. As for you, Spike, I'll leave you to this pending disaster. But if you—when you hurt them, my mercy automatically times out."
"As does mine, Peaches, next time you come near me and mine."
Angel rolled his eyes and held his arms out toward Dawn. "It was good to see you; I'm sorry the circumstances were so unpleasant."
Dawn stepped forward to give him a hug, but Spike caught the back of her shirt and pulled her away. "That'll do," he said.
He and his grandsire exchanged one last smoking glance before Angel turned and walked out of the house, shutting the door behind him.
"Well that was weird," Dawn said after a heavy pause. "You guys aren't exactly best friends, are you?"
Spike didn't answer, just started for the stairs.
"Wait, where are you going?" Dawn asked.
"Need to have a chat with Big Sis. Keep out of it."
Dawn stared after him with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
xXxXx
Please review so that I can gauge the interest level in this story. That helps feed the inspiration (or kill it, depending on the circumstances). Thanks in advance!
