Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 4 – Ditzy not Daft

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

"You jerk! I've been trying to catch you for a year!"

Spike cocked his head to right, and a smirk formed on his lips. He took on an expression of mixed amusement and curiosity, an "Okay, I'll bite"-face if ever I've seen one. But he wasn't just sitting there looking pretty. He was putting it all together, adding facts, drawing conclusions. His eyes lit up with understanding, and something else. I'd have said dislike, not of me, but rather the whole situation in general.

"This all was for me," he said, telling, not asking. "Everything. The whole setup: the fledges n' the daft blonde: to draw me in close enough to jump."

"Well, yeah," I said. "Don't call Peggy daft. If anyone should know better than to assume that a ditzy demeanor means that a slayer's stupid, it's you," I scolded.

Chagrin flashed in Spike's blue eyes, and he grinned. "All right, your point. Ditzy doesn't always equal daft." His lips parted, on the verge of asking after Buffy – while we were on the subject - but stopped himself. I think he wanted it too bad to take the risk.

"So why were you after me again?" he demanded. "There were a helluva lot easier ways to get my attention if you just wanted to talk."

"I'll explain everything but first I want to let my team know that I'm okay," I said. "They're probably all gathered directly outside, ready to jump you enmass." I nodded toward the van's rear doors.

"Lovely," Spike said, but nodded his consent.

I grabbed his hand. "First, promise me that you're not gonna bolt the second the doors open." I held on tight, and wasn't going to let go till I had his word. There was way too much riding on our having captured Spike only to lose him now.

Spike has spent the past three years running. Following some huge blowup in Los Angeles in May 2004, which the Council knows almost nothing about, Spike's been constantly on the move. The same is true of Angel, only he keeps company with a conspicuous bluish Old One chick who has a penchant for starting big fights. They keep a much higher profile than Spike does alone.

Spike considered, long and hard, and I knew that he was giving serious thought to leaving. I didn't push him because I wasn't going to force him to stay. Hopefully, his sense of curiosity would get the better of him, and he'd hang around at least long enough to hear my explanation.

I clung to his fingers instead of using words, relying on the connection to remind him that I loved him long before he ever got a soul. Unlike Buffy, I knew that Spike's love was real. Back then, I would've trusted him even without the chip, because Spike loved the both of us with all his heart.

Spike stared at our joined hands, and then allowed his heart to decide. "All right," he agreed with a small nod. "I'll stick around long enough to hear what you have to say." He squeezed my fingers and offered a cautious smile. With a huff, I released a breath that I hadn't known I was holding.

Spike opened up the back of the van, and sure enough, the Sanrio Knights were arrayed in a semi-circle waiting for us. Spike hopped out cautiously, and I more hurriedly, eager to get in front of him just in case someone got trigger-happy.

I was crazy-relieved to see that no one had weapons drawn. I had a feeling that was Ling Ling's doing. Pandapple rules the roost when she makes up her mind about something. Even Sasha who has a sorta alpha-complex going defers to Ling Ling.

"Spike, this is my team, the Sanrio Knights," I told him proudly. "That's Sasha-"

"Hey-" Chococat offered a cool nod. She wasn't willing to welcome a vampire – soul or no – with open arms. "I shot you," she added, spoiling for a fight.

Spike just grinned. "I'll remember that."

"-Peggy who you've met-"

"Hiya," Peggy chirped, once again doing her ditz impression, throwing in a little wave.

"Nice round punch," Spike drawled, and he offered Peggy the look. Sexy smile. Bedroom eyes. Damn. Peggy in return smiled like a cat with canary feathers clinging to her whiskers.

"Ling Ling."

"It is a pleasure to finally you meet you," the enchantress said with a formally offered hand, which Spike regarded for a second, and then shook.

"Heard about me then, have you?" Spike asked.

"Yes, both good and bad," Ling Ling replied. "From Dawnie – only good." They both looked at me, and I blushed again.

"And Blake," I finished, struggling not to wrap my mouth around his name like I wanted to suckle and savor it, (which I so totally did).

Spike actually turned toward Blake. Another male warranted the full frontal face-off. First, Spike looked at me, perceiving waaayyy too much for my comfort. I broke into a cold sweat and glared death-daggers at Spike. So help me, if he opened his big mouth!

Lucky for Spike, he chose a different tactic, and went back to regarding Blake. It took Spike approximately six seconds to choose his strategy for irritating Blake.

"Captain America," Spike said with snark. "What happened to your butterfly net?"

"Dropped it trying to catch a loon," Blake returned without missing a beat. My chest swelled with pride (for Blake, not Spike).

"Good to finally meet you, Captain Peroxide." Blake snapped off a military precision salute, one that Spike didn't stand a chance of returning without looking like a goofball.

I found my breath being held again, because Blake had been warned repeatedly about revealing his Initiative background. I wanted Spike to have a chance to like and accept Blake for himself before that got brought up.

Spike stared at Blake hard, his face so still that it cast his cheekbones into sharp relief. Only vampires and statues can attain such perfect immobility. Tension hummed in the air, saturating the atmosphere with the threat of violence.

I sucked in a sharp breath, and the mood communicated to the rest of the team. Both slayers were coiled springs, and Ling Ling's fingers flexed reflexively as she mouthed a spell.

"How's old Xander doing anyway?" Spike asked with a sudden cheeky grin, and I once again puffed out my breath, glaring at him. He'd created the tension on purpose, and dispelled it when he was ready, his smart-ass reply to Blake's salute.

"He's good. He sends his regards," replied Blake. The last time we were in London, he and Xander did some drinking and shot a few rounds of pool together. That must've been where Blake heard the Captain Peroxide nickname. Cause he sure didn't hear it from me!

The tension melted out of everyone, departing Ling Ling swiftly, and oozing more slowly from the pair of slayers.

"C'mon, everyone, let's go for coffee," I suggested, firm but making it an order. My job as Watcher is all about keeping everyone caffeinated and elevating morale. (In addition to knowing the more obscure points of mysticism and monsters.)

"Starbucks?" Blake said, getting out the van's keys.

"Have'ta be," Ling Ling said sourly. "I haven't seen a Pete's since we left California."

"And you never will on some godforsaken hellmouth like this," Peggy said.

"Kitty, Gary Indiana isn't a hellmouth," I told her gently.

"It isn't?"

Everyone had turned toward the van and was getting in. Spike caught my elbow, drawing me back. "I like your friends, Bit."

I smiled and hugged him. "So do I, so do I."

End Part 4.