Chapter 4 Tea and Sympathy
Spike sat comfortably at the kitchen island with Joyce, drinking tea. Joyce was talking animatedly about one of the soap operas they both watched. "Oh, and when she told him she was sleeping with his brother— that was-" she stopped talking abruptly when she noticed Spike tense up and adjust his grip on his teacup. She pressed her lips together looking at him. "Can I ask you something?"
"Don't see why not," he said as he sipped his tea.
"It's more of an observation actually. I can't help but notice that you and your blanket are normally long gone by now. Not that I mind the extra long visit but I sort of always had the impression that you were trying to avoid Buffy and she should be home pretty soon."
"Slayer and I have patrolling plans tonight. Turned out my ex was the one responsible for the train and we want to make sure she's cleared out of town."
"Harmony or Drusilla?"
"Dru— Hell, I was over the moon when Harm finally left."
Joyce frowned, "And how are you dealing with Drusilla being back?"
He shrugged, "Not as bad as I thought I'd be if I'm being honest. Buffy was with me when Dru showed up. Made the whole thing that much easier really. She didn't stick around long." He said the last sentence very quietly.
Joyce swallowed her tea and set her cup down in front of her, "I see," she pursed her lips in thought, "What's going on with you and my daughter?"
He cleared his throat, making a weak attempt to evade the question, "Depends on the daughter. Got vastly different answers for each." He took a drink, trying to give her his best, I-didn't-just-shag-your-daughter-multiple-times look.
"You know darn well which daughter I'm talking about."
He set his cup in front of him. "You talk to her this morning?"
Joyce shrugged a little, "Enough that I know she was trying to pretend she wasn't sneaking in the door."
"And you want to know if your attempt at matchmaking panned out and if I was the reason your eldest was out all night, yeah?
Joyce ducked her head sharply and gave him an almost apologetic smile, "And now you're making me feel like an overly intrusive mother."
"Imagine she'd want to talk to you herself bout something like this." He took a drink and tried to avoid her eye.
Joyce raised an eyebrow, "Something like what, Spike?"
He sighed and laid his hand down flat on the counter, "Look, Buffy and me, we had a nice long chat. A couple of chats really. Worked a few things out, and eh, yeah—" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "she spent the night with me-" he paused and cleared his throat, "in my crypt."
Shut your sodding mouth— perfect way to get yourself dusty. If not Buffy then surely Joyce would be happy to oblige, just after she cuts your balls off for fucking her daughter. There are worse ways to die—
Joyce knit her brow, "Buffy stayed in your crypt?"
"Well yeah, I mean we had that talk and then the train station and I said— well, I said what I said and— and she kissed me— well my place is closer to the train station and I live alone— and that's not what you meant—"
Nice going, William— couldn't have just stopped talking— really stuck your foot in it now didn't you… git!
Joyce dipped her head, braced her palms against the counter and looked up at him with cool resolve, "You— you slept with my daughter and then came to have tea with me?"
"Well- yeah but—"
Joyce shook her head dismissively and sighed, "I told her she should talk to you, not—"
"Now hang on, it wasn't like that—" Spike's voice rose in alarm.
"Buffy is an adult now. She can make her own decisions— I'm just— well I'm a little surprised because— well your crypt is hum— not exactly… hygienic." Joyce frowned.
"Wait you—" Spike laughed, relaxing a fraction, "Do you think I just sleep in front of the telly all day? Come on now, Joyce, I got a second level. Nice big comfy bed, a bath, laundry— the lot. I might be dead but I do have standards. The top level is just for entertaining."
Joyce let out a long sigh and smiled, "Oh well that's a relief."
Confusion crowded over his brain, sending thoughts sputtering, "So wait a tic— you're telling me that your big concern wasn't that she slept with me, but that she slept in my crypt?"
"Well— yes, that's my baby you're talking about— and don't you forget, I still have axes handy. So don't screw it up. If you hurt her—" she trailed off shaking her head sadly, "I don't want to see my daughter get hurt again."
He rubbed his neck and looked Joyce squarely in the eye, "I do love her. Don't really know how she feels about me yet, but I swear, I'll do everything I can to make her happy. For as long as she'll let me."
"That's already better than her last two boyfriends," Joyce smiled sadly.
The sound of the front door opening and closing again drew their attention. The reply he had been forming for Joyce was wiped from his brain when Buffy's voice preceded her into the kitchen, "Mom? I'm home! How'd your day go?"
Joyce gave Spike a mischievous grin then turned, answering her with a bright smile as she came in, "It was good. Exhausting but good. I'm just going to have to get back into the swing of things."
Buffy was sorting through a small stack of mail in her hand as she walked in.
"That's good. The doctor doesn't want you to overdo—" she broke off when she looked up, noticing Spike.
Buffy froze, wide eyed. They had discussed checking in with her mother, but after a long day in classes and patrolling the mansion, she had convinced herself that he would either blow it off or just forget. "Ah hey, look, it's Spike, in my kitchen. Tea-Drinking-Spike," she said, gesturing toward him nervously setting down the mail.
"I told you I'd be here, pet," Spike smirked.
She rolled her eyes, "Which is why I'm surprised you're here."
Spike groaned, "Oh not that old song again, how many times do I have to prove to you, I'm not the Great Forehead. You must know you can trust me by now?"
Buffy shot a glance at her mother and back to Spike with wide eyes, "Can we talk about this later?"
"What's a'matter, kitten?" He grinned.
Buffy huffed as she turned to get a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water, "Oh my god, just when I think you can be half normal…"
Spike chuckled as he drank some more of his tea, "Half normal is more than enough for you I'd wager."
Buffy nearly choked on her water as she shot a scared look towards her mother. "Don't be a pig, Spike."
Joyce picked up the newspaper while they bickered and started to look through it. "Oh my word…" Joyce gasped. "Buffy, stop being so mean to your boyfriend and take a look at this."
"Boyfriend?" Buffy shot Spike a warning glare as she turned towards her mother, wondering exactly what he had told her. Clearing her throat she shoved the thought aside, "What's up, Mom?" She tried desperately to shake off her growing anxiety as she turned to see what her mother was looking at.
Joyce pointed to the front page of the newspaper below the fold, "Two nurses at the hospital were killed last night. Neck trauma. They're saying the assailant must have used an attack dog."
"Home sweet Hellmouth," Spike sing-songed into his cup.
"Isn't that the nice boy you were talking to when I was in the hospital?" Joyce asked her daughter, pointing to one of the staff photos the article had included.
"Oh my god, yeah that's Ben!"
"He seemed like such a nice young man," Joyce said sadly.
"Pity," Spike entoned dryly.
"Can you show a smidge of remorse for the guy? He was really sweet—" Buffy scolded him.
Spike rolled his eyes, "Oh sure. How utterly heartbreaking. How will we ever work past this massive tragedy?" He drawled.
"Alright fine, so it's not like any of us really knew the guy that well. Still, you don't have to be such a dick about it."
Joyce hummed through a mouthful of tea, swallowing hastily, "Language young lady. Your sister should be home soon. Speaking of which, what do you plan on telling her about the two of you?"
Buffy turned, glaring at Spike, "I don't know mom, let me just have a private conversation with my 'Boyfriend'," she ground out coolly.
Spike grinned, "Ohh now, boyfriend am I? I like the sound of that. I don't even care if you stake me, my life is complete."
Buffy rolled her eyes as she dragged him off his stool and into the hallway.
Joyce called after them, "No staking, Buffy Ann Summers, I like this one!"
Spike followed Buffy through the factory. He had been surprised when she told him there was no sign of Drusilla at the mansion. He was certain that's where she would go, and he hoped they wouldn't find her at the factory either. Those hopes were dashed when his ears picked up the sound of her singing an old tune. The song was one she would often sing when she was upset. Years ago it would have been his cue to distract her with gifts and romance. Cheering her up with dresses and dolls, jewels and pretty things to eat. Distracting her with kisses and touches and if that didn't work he would chain her up just the way she liked. Now the song sent a chill up his spine.
He stopped abruptly, pulling Buffy back by the sleeve.
"What is it?" She asked.
Spike pressed his finger to his lips, "Can hear her singing, pet. She's in a state," he whispered.
"Isn't she always?"
Spike groaned, "Not like this," he murmured as he took the lead towards the section of the factory that they had once made their bedroom. He held up a hand to Buffy, indicating that she should stay outside the makeshift room. Buffy nodded curtly and slipped into position pressing her back against the wall next to the door where she could remain hidden from sight.
Drusilla was lying face up on a bare mattress on the floor, arms spread over head. She had been crying and looked up as Spike stood in the doorway within arms reach of Buffy in her hiding place.
"What do you want, Spike? There's nothing more to be said. Even the pixies don't want to talk," Drusilla uttered softly.
"Wondering what you're still doing in town. Thought the Slayer and I made it clear you were to be on your merry way."
She rolled to face him, "I had started to go but I'm afraid my tummy is feeling rather poorly."
He raised his eyebrows at that, there weren't many things that could affect a vampire like that. "Eat someone that didn't agree with you, Dru?"
"He looked like such a tasty treat but there was something terribly wrong with him. Double life. Single death. Nasty naughty boy covering something else nastier still. Not sweet like my William. I still remember— my dear boy, you tasted like sugared violets and fresh strawberries. Sweet words and sweet tongue."
"That's enough reminiscing. Now tell me bout this not so yummy fella, where'd you find him?"
"Hospital. Tasted of tar and sand."
Spike frowned, he didn't like the sound of this guy, "You need to get out of town. Slayer's not known for being particularly understanding, and I'm not about to stand between her and her calling. She knew this bloke, though not at all well from what you're telling me."
Spike gave Buffy's arm a squeeze and she bit her cheek, still standing next to him but out of sight of Drusilla.
Drusilla drew herself up to sit, "Not to worry, I'll be out of here just as soon as my tummy settles. This place reeks of the Slayer, I can still smell her all over you."
"Course you can, she's here with me," he said, releasing his hold on Buffy's arm.
Buffy came around the corner next to Spike. "What was so wrong with Ben?"
Drusilla giggled, "Is that what he was called? I'm sure that wasn't really his name. Something more—" she paused thinking, "glorious, I should think. Gloriously disgusting. Hiding things. Playing games the likes of us wouldn't even enjoy. You remember the sort of games we used to play don't you, Spike? Wouldn't it be more fun to play one of our little games?"
"I'm not in a playing mood. I'm sorry you're not feeling well but tummy troubles or not, you need to go. Goodbye, Drusilla," he murmured softly before he turned to leave.
Buffy shot a glance toward Drusilla still sitting gloomily on the mattress, and then toward the back of Spike's head as he walked away from them.
"He did love me. Desperately. It was rather adorable really. He's quite a dedicated lover, you know. It's always been his biggest flaw," Drusilla said, drawing Buffy's attention back to her, "full of love and life he was, such lovely poetry too." She laid back onto the mattress humming dreamily, apparently lost in a pleasant memory. Buffy paused watching Drusilla stare at the ceiling as though she were watching dancers at the ballet.
"Coming, Slayer?" Spike called from where he stood waiting by the exit.
Buffy cast one last glance at Drusilla before jogging towards Spike gripping his arm, "Is she gonna be alright on her own?"
"Dru can fend for herself well enough, despite appearances she's no dainty flower. Surprised you are even concerned."
Buffy frowned at that, a weird little niggling in the back of her head. "That's not really what I meant."
"No. I suppose it's not," he said, through a clenched jaw. He didn't like leaving her like that anymore than Buffy did, although it was clear they had different reasons.
Buffy laid a hand on his chest, "The last time we trusted her to leave on her own, two more people died, one of them I knew. You know as well as I do that I should stake her."
"So do it, I'm not stopping you," he huffed, looking back the way they'd come. He wove his fingers into her hair, "Don't hold back on my account. Dru is my past, you're the only future I care about. I love you."
Buffy shook her head, biting her lip. "No, it's like you said, it's not worth it unless it's a fair fight, and she seems pretty out of it," she said, moving along out through the factory.
"Taking advice from the big bad now, are you?" Spike smirked, as they walked out into the cool night air.
Buffy gave him a dubious look, "I'd hardly call you the big bad."
"I don't know about that, seem to make you scream prettily enough," he purred in her ear, "wouldn't mind hearing you scream for me some more."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Oh, I'd watch it if I were you buddy, I'm still pissed you told my mother you're my boyfriend."
Spike sputtered looking at her aghast, "I did no such thing. I just answered her questions honestly. Your mum's the one who said 'boyfriend'. So did you, I might add." He was so distracted that he nearly tripped on the curb as they walked up onto the sidewalk, "Sodding—"
"Ah huhh… sure, I was being sarcastic." She held back a grin as he smoothed down the front of his coat. Nothing to see here. It was endearing.
He dipped his head and chanced a glance at her, "So am I or not?" The question came out sounding much more desperate than he intended, afraid of the answer, and he cringed inwardly.
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek, "Maybe."
"That's not much of an answer."
"What do you think Dru meant about Ben?" Buffy interjected, changing the subject abruptly.
Spike gave her a sideways glare but acknowledged the retreat by pursing his lips, "Hard to say really. Lots of things can look human, but vampires can usually sense another demon. Dru wouldn't have made that mistake, not in a million years. He must have been something else."
Buffy chewed that over. "I just don't get it though, he seemed so nice."
"Always the quiet ones that surprise you," he paused thoughtfully, "Dru used the word 'Glorious'— you don't think he worked for her or something do you?"
She worried her lip and linked her arm through his. Spike looked down at her with a small smile on his face but didn't comment for fear of breaking the moment. Buffy cleared her throat as they walked on, "I think we should get Willow and Giles on the book thing, go through the stuff the council has on Glory."
Spike shrugged, "Probably wouldn't hurt to patrol too. See if we can ferret out any of those scabby minions she's got."
"Good idea. I could go for a little slayage," she said, squeezing his arm a little. They were quickly falling into an oddly comfortable ease that surprised her. She was sure things between them would be infinitely more complicated than they seemed to be in this moment walking through town.
Drusilla's words rang in her head like a bell. The way she had described his being a dedicated lover as a fault seemed like some sort of a crime.
He is very "human" for a vampire…
His words from the other night burst into her mind, like flood from a dam, drowning out Drusilla's voice.
"I can't change what I am, I can only show you who I am," and she couldn't help but wonder now how many layers to Spike she had yet to discover.
Buffy was jostled from her inner thoughts as Spike adjusted their linked arms. He found Buffy's fingers, lacing them into his and relaxed their hands between them comfortably. They continued walking along like that, like any other couple in the world.