Kindred
By Sweetprincipale
Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…
Part XXIV
"We're going to have to go to the magic shop for the wolfsbane."
"They're closed by now." Tara glanced at the clock.
"Oh. Dash it, I suppose we're not. Still, it's been a long, emotionally draining day-"
"And no one had dinner. The mortal form gets irritable when it's hungry. Or horny. Xander and I need to practice. And eat." Anya spoke complacently and turned to Willow and Tara as well. "You ought to practice too. Or you could join us."
Xander, Willow, and Tara made a variety of pained, shocked noises. "I meant for dinner," Anya rolled her eyes. "And Giles, too. Again, talking about the dinner. I don't share. Talking about Xander, not the dinner."
"Oh dear Lord." Giles walked off, rubbing his ever-multiplying forehead creases. "You've made that abundantly clear. And horrifying to contemplate. I believe I'll stay in and sleep. A clear head is essential as well as any other- hrm- type of practicing."
"We'll clear off as soon as we make a couple calls," Buffy addressed the group that was splitting up. "Spike and I can take a quick patrol on the way back to Mom's house. Spike promised her we'd catch up before bed."
"Another horrifying to contemplate thought," Xander muttered to Giles out the side of his mouth. Spike, heard it (naturally).
"Joyce's had a long day and coast-to-coast flight. She needs her sleep," Spike said evenly. "Only reason Slayer doesn't call from her place is because Joyce hates Angel and isn't dead keen on the psychotic soldier boy just now, either."
"The cheek of him. Thinking I was a vampire," Giles said with disgust.
"Oi," Spike shot him a dirty look.
"Present company excluded. I suppose," he amended, a puzzled frown on his face.
"Uh, guys?" Buffy pointed to the receiver in her hand. "Actually wanting to make the phone call. Do you want to stand around quietly or go do the other fun-filled activities you mentioned?"
"Love you, Buffy, bye!" Willow hugged her best friend quickly and then pulled Tara along behind her, both of them suddenly sharing flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
"Dinner can be ordered in. After?" Anya hissed to Xander in a completely indiscreet whisper.
Spike chuckled faintly as he moved out of the sudden steamroller that was Demon Gal and her boy toy.
Giles looked at the couple remaining. Hm. He supposed couple was the right word, even if he wished to avoid it. "They shouldn't take long, these calls?"
"I don't have much to say to either of them," Buffy admitted, pangs of guilt poking her, then nudged aside by the thoughts of what she had instead. Her face clouded. "I guess Riley's conversation is going to be pretty suck-tacular. I thought we did such a good job, with the secret spell oath-thingy…"
"You didn't have your mum complete the oath, Slayer. And even if she had, Secret Agent Man would've run and tattled on me anyway. If the Commando had a brain in his oversized head, he'd have realized the 'older British vampire' was me, not the Watcher."
"Hey! He had major heart surgery and he was on a ton of steroids and meds! Riley wasn't thinking clearly."
"I knew that from the second he wanted you to suffer for Dracula's mistakes because he wasn't in possession of a set of fangs." Spike grimaced. Buffy glared. "And he sent a man to tail you. Lucky all he ended up with was misinformation, not a friend on the injured list. What bloody fool sends a poor defenseless human to tail a Slayer 'round dark cemeteries?"
Buffy's glare changed to a half-grin, reluctantly given. "You're right. If I'd thought it was human trying to do anything else to me… Agent Brown would be Agent Brown Trousers."
Giles guffawed and then wheezed himself into the kitchen. "Dear God. Brown Trousers. This is proof I'm terribly overtired and strained."
"You need tea. Lots of sugar. Want me to make it for you?" Spike offered, not quite meeting his eye.
"No, no. Heaven only knows why, but I think I could use a minute alone," Giles hinted.
Buffy began punching numbers in on the phone. "Two calls. Quick as I can make them."
"If they're not quick, at least they'll be entertaining." Spike smirked and sprawled out in Giles' desk chair, arms behind his head, hips forward, the picture of impudent glee at another's expense.
Considering whose expense it was, Giles decided he might just hurry through making a proper pot of tea and omelett to catch the show.
"Buffy!" Angel's voice rippled with relief. "Oh, thank God. The way they were talking, I figured y-"
"I'm okay, for now. Thanks for getting that information from the Countess."
Angel stared at the phone, frowning. Her tone was so brusque, so business-like. Pain filled his eyes and he cleared his throat before saying softly, "Of course. I promised you I'd take care of it. You know if there was any way I could undo what Dracula did to you, I'd do it."
Buffy looked at the phone, perplexed. Angel's voice used to cause such pain and longing in her, even when she was furious at him. It didn't this time. What's more, she clearly recognized this voice as his "heartbroken, self-sacrificing, noble, "Do what's best for Buffy" voice.
She believed he felt that way. The thing was, now she felt like it was a crock of bull and she had the urge to snap at him for playing a lovelorn hero when her husband- husband!- was the one getting his hands dirty, helping her, really doing things with her and for her that were for her actual good. "Thanks, Angel," Buffy pressed forward, smothering a sigh. "I was wondering if you could do some follow up for me."
"Absolutely, anything."
She bit her lip to keep from letting out a mini screech of frustration. Again, the heartbroken, placating tone. No, "anything" would have meant you were there when I asked you- but then I wouldn't have found Spike. She tried, briefly, to imagine what it would have been like being Angel's wife in the eternal, vampiric sense of the word.
She shuddered. She couldn't imagine the depth of joy or trust. Her husband could switch to evil sadist to repentant monk on the turn of a mattress. No laughter. No hot sex, either, it would nonexistent, or if by some miracle they ever could, it would all be serious and awkward and- she had to go hug Spike now, immediately. "Just a sec."
Spike had shifted position on the chair, now moodily looking at the Latin version of the spell that Buffy'd first used with him, the one he thought of simply as the "numbing" spell. He knew she had to talk to Angel. He just happened to hate the thought of any other bloke's hands or lips or bits near his precious one, his kindred one, was enough to make his irises go golden and the muscles in his neck jump in possessive anger.
He wasn't prepared for the object of his thoughts to plant herself in his arms with a resounding kiss that literally made his toes curl in his boots and his jeans constrict painfully. "What was that for?" he gasped.
"Because I'm so, so, so glad your mine and I'm yours and I don't ever wanna be anyone else's. Especially not broody heart-on-a-stake types who help on their terms, not mine. Gotta go. Remember where we left off."
"Bloody well bookmarked," Spike watched her saunter off. Was it just his imagination, or did she seem to slink more now? Temptress.
But my girl always delivers.
Angel jumped when Buffy's voice returned to his ear, sounding a little breathless. A little… dare he say aroused? Buffy pining for him was a painful thought.
His body shouldn't like it so much.
"Where were we?"
He licked his suddenly dry lips. "Well. I-uh- said I'd do anything you needed me to do." Except the thing he most wanted. "But, Buffy, we can never-"
She let out a completely inappropriate yip of laughter at the path she suspected he was taking. "Nothing like that! Geez, I'm so not looking for that." Realizing that sound heartless, shegentled her tone, "I know we can't. It's okay, Angel. Neither of us want that, we've both moved on."
Wait, what? "That soldier, Finn? He can't be the second warrior, Buffy. A human couldn't-"
"Angel, why don't you just let me tell you what I want? I've moved on from Riley, too. No, I need something much more practical. I know you interviewed the Countess Elena- Maria- Daniela- something long," Buffy gestured to the ceiling as if trying to pull the cumbersome name out of the air. "The Ex-Mrs. Drac. You let her go, right?"
"She's safe at home. Why? Is she making trouble? Dammit! I knew I should have killed her!" Angel's sudden explosive tone was accompanied by him hurling the nearest thing to hand at the wall. It happened to be the desk organizer that Cordelia had bought to replace the pen cup he'd swiped earlier. That's just great, he thought bitterly, cradling the phone as he gathered up pens. Wesley, attracted by the noise, reappeared, eyebrows arched.
"Kill someone?"
"Your little friend."
"Hey! Conclusion pole-vaulting has been cancelled on tonight's sportscast. I'm happy you didn't kill her! For God's sake, Angel, she was enslaved and mind-fucked by Dracula for how many centuries? A lot. And it sounds like she finally got out from under him and she's not letting what he did ruin her. Giles and the girls were saying that she is a vampire without a soul, but she doesn't kill."
"Yeah, that's what she says."
"That's what she is," Wesley interjected hotly. "Everything she told us was borne out by what I saw in her home."
"You were gone long enough." Angel shot him an exasperated look. "Her home, huh? Did she give you the grand tour?"
"As a matter of fact, I did get to see some very fine antiques." In her bedroom and her office suite. I won't mention the precise location. Nothing untoward happened.
"Is that Wesley?"
"It is."
"He thinks the Countess isn't evil?"
"He didn't say that."
"I believe she has the capacity for evil, like any human," Wesley said softly. A smile played briefly on his lips as he recalled her definition of evil. Financial manipulation, an unorthodox attitude toward fidelity. All done with such elegance.
"But she's not human," Angel was quick to point out.
"The fact that she lives as one and has human friends and lovers makes her seem more like one. She is a vampire who doesn't harm."
"That's what I wanted to know. But anyone could put on a good show for a couple days, even years. Is there any way you can tell me how long she's lived like this? Is there any kind of proof that she's living a clean, killing-free life?"
Wesley's eager burble penetrated the conversation. "I am certainly willing to vouch for her- as far as I know her from my research and brief encounter," he added hastily, "but I'll gladly return to do any needed reconnaissance. Although, I'd prefer to do it without the use of portals. That much magic is taxing and I'm not sure I'd be able to do it again soon. When do you need the information? Maybe I could take a long weekend in Paris." A weekend in Paris with Daniela. Maybe the sky would be overcast and we could walk along a street in the rain and- hrm. He blushed under Angel's sudden scrutiny.
Angel's tone was suspicious, bordering on angry."How are you going to -"
Afraid of the end of the sentence, Wesley raised his voice over that of his employer, "She gave me her number. Let me see when there's a good date. Maybe she could come over here and- no. No," he looked at Angel. "Never mind. I shall definitely go over there."
Angel threw Welsey an annoyed look that shifted to hurt. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'll go make the call. I'll ask if she can make it as soon as possible, Buffy," Welsey ignored Angel's question and spoke into the phone.
"Thanks, Wesley. The Council is footing the bill for things related to the final end of Dracula. Let me know what plane tickets cost and we'll pay you back."
"Wait, wait- Wes?" Wesley left the room, fingers digging in his pocket for a piece of paper and his phone. "Buffy, why do you need to know? The information is solid, considering how it was obtained."
She hesitated, "Y'know. Just… general trustworthiness, that's all."
Angel liked to think he knew Buffy well, better than anyone else. She brought out something in him that no one else brought out and he believed he did the same. Or used to. Her tone just now prickled the liar in him, the deceiver who can hear the false notes in another's story. "Trustworthiness? In a demon? In a vamp? No such thing. But it was a truth spell. Whatever she said about Dracula checked out according to that spell, even if she was unwilling to talk."
"Wanted to beat it out of her, did you?" Spike muttered.
Angel's keen hearing caught the noise, but it was faint. "Did you say something?" he asked, knowing full well she hadn't.
"No, but I was about to. Just do something for me without wanting to know every detail. You used to be all about the cryptic. No cryptic this time, just facts and details. No opinions. I need to know."
"But why do you-"
" It'll make my life easier. Okay?" Buffy's voice raised slightly.
Angel's eyes narrowed. "It'll make your life easier to know how a vampire ex of your ex is living the high life in Paris?"
She wanted to smack the condescending tone out of his vocal cords. With a throat punch. With a bowling ball. Or cannon ball. And ex? EX? "Yes." She bit off the word.
"Angel, surely you owe Buffy any number of favors, and it's in a good cause," Wesley hissed.
The brunette tuned his voice out in favor of replaying another's. Giles' soft, deliberate voice that let him make no mistakes. She has whom she needs. "Are you seeing -someone else? A vampire? Buffy, you can't trust vampires."
Spike let the paper flutter back to the desk, rising as her spine stiffened. The oath that they took prevented them from saying that he was helping Buffy. It didn't prevent people from guessing.
Buffy apparently was too angry to care whether or not she dropped clues for the suspicious man on the other end of the call. "That's true. Not most of them. You're right. You have to know them. Get inside their heads. Find out what they love."
"They can't love without a soul."
Before she could even think better of it, the words were streaming from her mouth, hot and angry and oh, so good, held in for far too long, "No, you just like to tell yourself that! You tell yourself that so you can be okay with all the crap you did to me without one. You tell yourself that so you never have to admit that you hurt people and take responsibility for it, even now that you're 'fixed' with that soul. You say it so you never have to admit that you hurt him and took what he loved. You don't want to believe he could be what you aren't," Buffy concluded, rage in her eyes dimming when she saw the startled shock in Spike's eyes turn to something else, something undefinable for the moment.
Wesley and Angel paused, both too stunned by the passionate tirade to move or speak. Finally, Angel's disbelieving voice managed to scrape out, "Who are you- Is it Spike? Buffy, are you talking about Spike? You're not stupid enough to trust Spike, are you?" He sat down heavily on the edge of the desk, shaking his head as information and confusion crowded it.
Heat left. Ice entered. "Don't ever call me stupid again. Hand the phone to Wesley. He's a human who sounds like he's friends with a soulless evil kind of vampire."
"You can't be serious."
"Maybe that's what I'm into. Even you loved something without a soul. Pain. Fear. Torture. Don't tell me you can't love without a soul. You just loved something bad. He loves something good. Now, again, put Wesley on the phone."
Wesley took the phone when Angel seemed unable to uncurl his fingers from it. "Hello, Buffy?" he asked tentatively.
"You met her. What's she like? Honestly. If she's evil and just doesn't murder because she doesn't want to get killed, fine. If she's knitting hats for kittens or something like that, fine. But tell me the truth."
"She's… captivating. Intelligent, good taste in music and art, principled, I would say. She fully admits she's evil, in terms of taking a number of lovers that would be scandalous back in her time, or perhaps even our own. Oh, and she's perfectly willing to have one of her said lovers do a bit of financial manipulation when it comes to sales at her favorite stores."
"Dangerous?"
"Anyone with enough wit and skill to survive for over four centuries is dangerous, Buffy."
Buffy smiled at her motionless groom, now backed by Giles, whisking eggs with a tea towel over his shoulder. Spike was certainly dangerous. To his enemies. To her enemies. "What do you think she is?"
"Is?"
"Evil, dangerous in the 'kill you' way, neutral, a real harmless sweetheart… I don't know. "
Wesley opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped. He looked at the man whom he considered his friend. A horrible, evil creature, a very flawed being trying hard to separate the two halves- and blinding himself to the folly of the idea that it could ever really be so. "She is a person with a demon. I don't feel- when I'm with her- that I'm talking to someone evil or harmful. I don't know much about her, but the remarkable thing is that I- I would genuinely like to see her again and find out," he admitted softly. "Depths, Buffy."
"Depths. Good. You'll talk to me after you talk to her?"
"I will. Why do you-"
It really didn't matter to her. It mattered to her mother. It mattered to her friends. It would make Xander feel better, but it wouldn't change a thing. "It doesn't actually matter to me," Buffy whispered, shrugging. "I thought it might be good to know. See that there are people who have demons, not just demons who have a people suit. If you don't want to do all this-"
"I would contact Daniela whether you needed me to or not," Wesley admitted, trying not to blush.
Buffy smiled at the bashfulness in his voice."Night, Wesley. Thanks. Oh, tell Angel I said goodbye." She put the phone down with a click.
Giles watched Spike hold out his hand to her and she grasped it automatically. "Thanks," the platinum blonde said thickly.
"Dear me, these eggs will turn into meringues in a minute." Giles looked at the bowl of froth he was now holding. "I'd uh- best clear off to the kitchen."
It was Buffy's turn to whisper her gratitude as Spike pulled her into his arms.
"She said goodbye," Wesley informed Angel, hiding awkwardness with a cough.
He'd heard. It felt very final. It had no trace of longing. It had no trace of … them.
She's moved on.
Not to a normal guy. Not to Dracula.
To Spike. Spike.
"You'd better go. Make your phone call," Angel told him hollowly. "You want privacy? I can leave."
"I'll use my own phone. Thank you. Are you sure you don't want me to stay for a bit?"
"No. Go."
"You don't seem-"
"I don't seem angry? Tearful? Miserable because the only person I've ever loved, the woman I can't have because I would kill her without a soul- is- is dating a murdering, soulless demon who I know is a thousand times worse than me?" Angel's voice began to desk organizer was in danger of taking another high velocity trip across the room.
Wesley made a hasty retreat to the door, but stayed inside the office, hand on the frame. "A thousand times worse?"
"He's weaker than me. Always-" he trailed off with a clenched jaw, gritting his teeth, fist curled into hammers ready to swing.
"He came to Buffy, you know. To help defeat you. To help save Drusilla and the world. He saved Giles' life before you could finish him. Did you know that? That Spike was the one who came to Buffy to stop you from opening Acathla's portal?"
"Wes, this is not the time to remind me of how-"
"This is actually probably quite a good time to remind you that Spike is evil, but has certain soft spots that prompt him to act for the good."
"Yeah, fear."
"Love."
"Can't love without a -"
"I hope you're wrong," Wesley's voice was equal in force, eyes unflinching as Angel's seared his. Thoughts of a beautiful, clever face imprinted on his mind. He could concentrate and nearly feel her pale hand pressed to his, wrist bruised but still graceful as the rest of her. "I hope you're wrong."
"No one's ever stood up for me to him. Never before. Not even Drusilla. She did whatever he said, even if it near killed me." He pressed his lips to her hair, a phantom heartbeat thundering in his chest, eyes blinking back tears that he couldn't quite place.
"You stood up to him." Buffy rubbed his back, head under his, feeling waves of sadness mixed with something else flooding from him. Maybe it would flood out and remain gone.
"I had to. Never had anyone else in my corner. Now," he pulled back and looked down at her, finding her own lashes dewy, "now I've got the best warrior in the world."
"Perfectly in tune, remember? That means both of us are the best," Buffy beamed and swiftly kissed his lips. "I'll always stand up for you."
"I'll always kneel before you."
Stupid smart poetic mouth. Sexy mouth. Talented mouth accompanied by kneeling. "Oh God, don't. I'll want to take you upstairs and Giles might literally have a heart attack."
Irreverent as it felt to trod on a wonderful moment, the mention of heart attacks made them both sigh and look heavily at the phone.
"I'll call him." Buffy sighed.
"Could I speak to Riley Finn? Um. I got this number to be 'patched through', however that works. This is Buffy Summers."
"I'll connect you to Agent Finn."
"They'll connect me," Buffy informed Giles and Spike, one of whom was looking at her through steamed up lenses as he sipped piping hot tea.
"You sure you don't need a cup?" Giles watched Spike's jaw flex.
"I could use a bourbon," Spike muttered darkly.
"I could put it in a teacup?" Giles offered, eyebrow rising rakishly.
Spike's face lifted momentarily. "Would you?"
"Be right back."
Buffy sighed as repetitive music flitted through the receiver. This is going to suck. So much suck. Maybe I should be grateful to Mom for making it more clear to him that I'm done.
Although, he thought Giles was a vampire. Still thinks that, knowing how stubborn he is. So we're going to have to revisit that "clear" thing.
"Buffy!" Riley's voice was a cocktail that plunged straight into her heart. Relief, rage, joy, frustration all in one word.
Shit. He loves me. Not the actual me, but some made up perfect version of me. I don't want to hurt that guy, the nice guy in love. "Riley! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm sorry I didn't call back right away, Mom just gave me the number." Relief was evident in her voice as well. "How are you feeling? When do they think you'll be out?"
Spike drained the bourbon in the cup that Giles handed him. It stung on the way down, but it dulled the throbbing in his head as he listened to her speak sweetly to the wanker who'd be itching to get out and murder him.
"It went fine. I'm doing great, out in no time," Riley told half-truths with an ease he'd never felt. He believed he was fine. The upped doses of sedative, beta-blockers, and the move to an isolated room said otherwise. Apparently, his rage-induced arrhythmia was not taken lightly by the staff. "How are you?"
"Better. I got some help from Angel and the Council. We're going to-"
"What kind of help?"
She ignored the suspicion in his voice. "Solid information on how to hold Dracula in place, for one thing."
"Are you sure you should be telling him all this?" Giles stage whispered.
Riley didn't catch the words, but he caught the inflection, a hint of noise that wasn't hers. "Who's that? Is that Giles? Spike?"
"Giles is right here. Mom told me you thought he was a recent addition to the living dead community. Nope. Just normal British pastiness."
"He could be controlling you. Making you say that."
"Giles, go pick up a cross for me?"
Giles rolled his eyes and grabbed one out of weapons' chest, making Spike step back hastily. "Still very much human."
"Not a vamp. No unpleasant singeing when coming into contact with holy items."
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
Buffy looked at the phone, startled by his outright accusation. "You don't, Riley. You'd have to trust me. Which I can see you don't."
"You haven't given me a lot of reason to. Hanging out with Spike? Brown told me. Your own mother told me!"
"You wanted me to wait for you to get better, meaning I'd just get worse. I didn't want to wait. Riley, we're very different in terms of how we handle issues. You could pretend to be okay with it until it was me, my neck on the line."
"That's not true, Buffy. I've never been okay with the way you handle things when it comes to you. You act like you're some-"
"Slayer. Chosen One. Incredibly powerful badass who also likes fashionable yet affordable shoes, pink nail polish, and trendy purses that conceal a wide array of weaponry."
Spike looked lovestruck. He didn't even bother to hide the sappiness in his tone as he turned to Giles. "She's the whole bloody package, int she?"
The graying man sighed. He had to admit that she was, and had to admit that he was relieved someone- even someone as normally undesirable as Spike- finally had the brains to realize it. "She is indeed."
Again, Riley heard the tones, not the words. Sweet. Lustful. Awed. Something coiled in his stomach. "They both want you."
"Huh?" Buffy was legitimately confused by that one. "Both want me to what? Both of who? Whom? Giles, who or whom?"
"Giles! Spike. The vampires and the Watchers, they all want a piece of the Slayer, her head or her heart or what's in her pants!" he spat. His monitor beeped warningly. The numbers on the screen went up, as well as a sharp incline on his heart rate read out.
Her mouth twisted and gaped for a second, unable to figure out a response at first. Then- "No. They want all the pieces of me to be together, whole. At least the Watcher and the vampire you're talking about. They both get that I have brains, think for myself. I have a heart, afraid to fall in love, and then can't figure out how to stop. As for the pants- well, both of these guys have shown some Class A approval of my ass-kicking skills. They don't just want what's between my legs, they like how I use them. And you did, too. Once. Now… You're too busy trying to keep me the way you want me to let me be what I am. It scares you, maybe. Makes you jealous, maybe?" her voice was strong, but gentle. Maybe he doesn't even realize how he sounds, how he's acting. Denial's like a virus in Sunnydale.
"I'm not!" he hissed. "You're the one who can't see what you-"
"I see fine. You don't have to like the picture, but I'm okay with it."
"And as long as the great Buffy Summers is okay with it, to hell with the rest of us!"
Her smile was sad, voice still soft. "No, Riley. Just to hell with this. With me trying to do the right thing for you. It's not the right thing for me. I asked you to let me go. Did you remember that?"
He swallowed now, around the denial. "I wasn't sure that you meant… what did you mean?"
Compassion made an abrupt departure. He's going to make me spell it out. I hate him so much right now.
Probably a good thing. "I want you to let me go. It's not working out. It's done. Over. This is a break up. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. I didn't want to- I didn't want to believe it wouldn't work. I wanted to think I could be enough for you, enough normal girl. I'm not. And… when I'm with the right person," Buffy's eyes lit upon Spike, "I don't feel like that. I feel like I'm enough. More than enough."
The thoughts that had been spiraling turned into a full-on whirlpool. Riley felt himself being dragged under a wave of genuine sadness, only to find it quickly chased by rage and loathing. "You're leaving me for one of them. It would have worked. It would have worked! You didn't give us a chance, didn't give me a chance because you- you want them, now, a sick addiction. You're becoming like them! He's twisting you, they're all twisting you, Buffy!"
She held the phone away from her ear under the sudden onslaught. The thought flitted through her mind. The bite started this chain, feeling like she was lost in a fog, then hyper, buzzing and high. The more she and Spike connected, the deeper the bond grew… she couldn't deny that she felt closer to him than any other person she'd ever mre, even in a very short time. It was not just because of the bites, and there was no control over her. But twisting, yes, twisting.
Someone turning me to help me see my true reflection, a twist to show the dark under the light and the light waiting in the dark. Twisting the key in the lock, deathwish opened, secrets sprung free, out to be battled, not to take her prisoner. "I don't want to be anyone but me," Buffy said softly after his ragged shouting had abated. "Whoever that is. She's not the one for you."
"He's taking you over!"
"No, Riley. I'm just over you." She hung up suddenly, decisively, breathing hard. She looked up, to see Giles' proud face and Spike's lovestruck one. "Okay. Phone calls made."
"Well done, Buffy." Giles patted her shoulder. He didn't say how sorry he was, say how hard it must've been. He'd leave that for the other one, his unlikely ally in looking after her.
Spike beamed. "That's my girl."
"Yours."
"Yours."
He watched them put foreheads together, eyes closed, inhaling the nearness of each other. Something very deep connected these two, beyond a surface need, beyond some sort of affection or claim on each other. He felt like an intruder in his own home. "Ready to go?" he asked.
Buffy nodded, pulling free of Spike long enough to hug Giles in passing and gather her things. "Meet up tomorrow?"
"Absolutely. With both of you, naturally."
Her melancholy seriousness diminished, bright smile returning. "Absolutely.
"You absolutely can't be signed out against medical advice."
The patient struggled to sit up and look more intimidating. He failed, dizziness assailing him."I checked the patient's bill of-"
"That doesn't go for military installations, Finn. If you tried to go now, you'd end up back in here, after a trip through the ER. I don't know if you got so used to the drugs they pumped into you or what, Son, but you're not some superhuman hero." The doctor told the pale man firmly, refusing the agent's request. "You don't look well enough to walk down the stairs, let alone take care of yourself." The man was sweating, color uneven and heading toward gray. "You need to take it easy. Look, in a few days, your parents will be here to look after you. Why don't you see if they can come up sooner? You'll be here for a few days, but after that, you can recuperate with them."
"I can leave in a few days?"
"If you improve. Stop scaring all the nurses on this floor," the doctor said sternly. "That is, if you know there's someone to take care of you for the first couple weeks." The man didn't respond. He blinked dully, and then his eyes seemed to focus, face grim.
"What, doc?"
"If you have someone to take care of you, we'll-"
"Someone to take care of. Got it."
The doctor left, and he closed his eyes. They wouldn't stay shut.
Get you free of them. Disinfect you, somehow. Kill them all, all the ones around you, twisting you, biting you, tainting you. A carousel of faces swarmed around him, Angel, Dracula, Spike, Giles, back to Angel, back to Spike. Lots of people to take care of, and then, the girl herself. He could fix her.
He had to. He gave up the mission for her. She was the mission. He didn't fail at those.
"You called!" Daniela's voice purred with delight, a girlish sound Wesley found charming and confusing. No one so very old should sound so young. The conundrum of such youthful beauty in so old a form should repel him, not draw him along so easily.
"I'm so sorry to trouble you."
"I had hoped you would call, Sorcerer," Daniela chuckled. "I was not lying when I said I was curious about Wesley. Have you decided to satisfy me?"
Unbidden images of various forms of satisfaction caressed his inner eye and he blinked them away hastily. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to satisfy me, actually."
Her little laugh dipped low and nudged parts of him that stirred, even as he blushed. "I prefer it to be mutual, but I suppose I could reward my gallant escort before he returns the favor."
"My curiosity!" Wesley cried, cheeks reddening all the more. "I have a friend who- who has a friend who is a vampire. He doesn't harm. He drinks animal blood from the butcher's, he assists her with- with certain things. She was curious about how you live."
"Quite nicely for a single woman with a very large house in a very inflated economy," Daniela said complacently. "She should be wary of him."
"There are circumstances in place that prevent him from-"
"Not wary that he will harm her. Wary is perhaps the wrong word. Careful? Do they not mean the same in English?"
"They do, although there are shades of meaning. What should she be wary of, careful of?"
"Taking a vampire as a lover. It's hard to be content with normal humans after. Especially if he should indulge her in biting."
"Shouldn't that be if she indulges him?"
"The pleasure is beyond what any other physical act can… I'm sorry. I presume much. She is only his friend?"
"That is not entirely known to me. But, I was hoping that I could pester you with a few questions, observe you for a day or two. Oh, not that you're some specimen to be observed!"
She only laughed at his stumbling efforts to correct his faux pas."This weekend? Tomorrow, even? You will be my guest?"
"I- yes. I'd love to. I just need to find a convenient flight and I'll-"
"Have you heard of Dassault?"
"The salt?"
"Dassault Aviation. One of their private jets has released a prototype. Mach .90."
"That's fascinating, and I would love to rush over, but I hardly think I could arrange a private jet."
"Oh, no, Sorcerer. Stock maneuvering. I did very well in a buy in, and I have use of the company jet until it's officially released. Shall I send a jet?"
His head spun. Do not be lured by the dangerously beautiful vampire. With money and taste and charm and- everything else. "I don't want to trouble you."
The confident voice shrank slightly. "I have not had someone I wanted to see this badly in a very long time." It stiffened again. "Pardon me. My forwardness, it's not becoming."
He'd said it before around her. He said it in his head then, he said it now, with a different meaning. What the hell? Tell her the bloody truth, man. "I was thrilled for an excuse to call you. I just know I'm a very ordinary person, so the extravagance is unfamiliar."
"I can promise a quiet weekend at home with good wine and good music, if that suits you better?"
"It sounds delightful. With some questions and research, of course."
"Of course. Will it be… hands-on, this research?"
Hands could go roaming in that blue-black hair, over that alabaster skin and those perfectly shaped lips. Hands could wander farther. "Possibly," he croaked. Oh dammit. How very manly. She'll think she's got the frog, not the prince at this rate.
Her laughter mixed with the sound of crystal clinking and tickled him and nudged him and made him smile in spite of himself. "Well then. To possibilities."
He envisioned her raising a glass to her coyly smiling lips, and he didn't care if the dark fluid he imagined was blood or wine- and that ought to terrify him. It didn't. What must it be like to - to care for someone so much that life and death, demons and goodness, are mere trivialities? "To finding out."
To be continued…
Up next, Honeymoon at Home ;) Sorry I couldn't fit it into this chapter, it was already so long.
Hi Fan Family- I have notes at the bottom of this chapter's draft that Vampire in Vegas and Vampire in Vegas: Quartet by S.C. Principale are on Amazon... but I think I already mentioned that a while ago? Anyway, it's a spooky, sexy time of year, so if you're looking for something short, sweet, and smutty, go check it out. You can enjoy before the third novelette comes out in December! (Maybe that's why I have that note?) (Oh, and the first book is up over on my Patr-eon under SCprincipale.)
Can you tell I need sleep?
Stay safe and sane, everyone!
Sweet
