Mortal Allies Series
Episode 5
War and Roses
By: Passion4Spike
Chapter 30: Digestives
Chapter Notes:
Thank you all for reading and for your kind comments. So glad you continue to enjoy this story. Beta kudos to MissLuci, who made this chapter much better than I had on my own.
You all knew this was coming... you warned Spike over and over, but did he listen?
-X-
Buffy's face was still flushed with embarrassment as she and Spike made their way back to Hawley Manor from the furniture store downtown. She was shaking her head in dismay, but also grinning. "I can't believe you did that!" she said for possibly the hundredth time.
Spike's sexy smirk amped back up. "Wha?" he asked innocently, batting his lashes at her, doe-like.
She slapped him playfully on the arm. "You know very well what!"
Another ingenuous, confused expression crossed his face, his hand to his heart, as if wounded.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well, let's start with you asking that first guy if any of the beds came with 'Magic Fingers'... and when he said 'No,' looking all confused, you asked, 'Magic Penises, then?'"
"Just tryin' t' get the best for m' girl," Spike defended. "Case you need a little somethin' when I'm not around with my own magic wand."
"Then," Buffy continued, completely ignoring Spike's comment and accompanying leer, "when he invited you to try out the different firmnesses, you tossed me down in the middle of the first bed, jumped on top of me, and started dry humping me like a... a... a dry humpy thing!"
Spike burst out laughing.
"THEN," she kept talking, over his raucous laughter, "You declared the first one too hard and bounced us both over to the next bed, which was too soft and did a whole Goldilocks thing to ALL the beds before declaring one just right!"
Spike had to stop and brace his hands on his thighs, he was laughing too hard to walk. "Did ya... see... the... bloke's... face?" he gasped out between guffaws.
"Did you see my face?" she countered. "It's a good thing I was so shocked I forgot I had my stake with me!" She gave him her best angry pout, folding her arms over her chest petulantly.
"Had t' make sure it'd hold up to the rigors of life with a minx like you, didn't I?" he pointed out. "Was a perfectly reasonable test."
"Five of the frames collapsed..."
He shrugged insouciantly, hooking his thumbs over his belt.
"You broke seven of the box springs in two!"
Another untroubled shrug. "S'why we test first, love. Wouldn't want it breaking apart in the middle of a shag."
"You nearly gave the salesman a coronary!"
"Pfft! He just jizzed in his trousers," he corrected. "Probably best wad he's shot in ages."
"SPIKE! They were about to call the police on you."
"Were about to call the coppers on us... Was fine soon as I offered to pay for the broken ones." He grinned at her, his bottom lip caught decadently beneath his teeth. "Wasn't just me, you were doin' your fair share of thrashing and wriggling..."
"Trying to get away!"
"Didn't feel like it to me... doesn't smell like it either," he purred, his eyes suddenly blazing in the dim light of the sewer tunnel. His eyes flashed wide, roaming down her body like a physical caress as he took a predatory step toward her.
Buffy backed up, wagging a warning finger at him. "No! Bad! You were very, very bad and you don't get..."
"You love it when I'm bad," he rumbled suggestively, reaching for her.
The Slayer squeaked, yanking her arm back, then pivoted and began careening down the tunnel at top speed. "Bad vampire!" she yelled back over her shoulder as he took chase, her laughter echoing off the brick walls, filling Spike's whole world with joy.
Spike chased her until she swung around, caught him, kissed him madly, then took off again, teasing, flirting, taunting. The two superheroes dashed through the shadowy tunnels, leaping over puddles, winding their way back to the manor house with growls and giggles filling the air. They came together for brief, feverish moments, groping and kissing, slamming each other against the crumbling brick walls, before one would break free and sprint away. Spike chased Buffy; Buffy chased Spike. Vampire and Slayer, man and woman, predator, prey, friend, lover, mate.
Then they turned the last corner and the Hawley Manor entrance was in sight. Spike fumbled for the key to the heavy basement door, a repurposed vault door, as Buffy pressed her tits into his back, reaching around and fondling his engorged prick through his jeans. His hands shook and he nearly dropped the buggering thing before finally sliding it into the lock. The action made him groan, thinking of sliding into Buffy. Christ... why hadn't they been shagging at the house? He couldn't remember.
They fell through the door when it finally swung open, tangled together, their laughter turned to frustrated groans as they snogged and scrabbled at clothing, zippers and buttons and buckles. There was absolutely too much clothing on their bodies.
"Basement's done, right?" Buffy gasped between kisses. "Christening can happen."
That was it! "Need t' christen every sodding surface down here," he agreed hungrily.
An unusually loud clearing of a throat stilled their roaming hands and devouring mouths. Their fingers froze on zippers and buttons as they looked up, eyes wide and glazed with passion, both panting, to see Giles halfway down the stairs.
"I thought I heard you return," he said in greeting, as if they'd simply been standing about. "Sorry to, er, interrupt your, er... What I mean to say is, could we have a word?"
When they both continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, he waved a hand up the stairs behind him. "I'll just be in the kitchen... if you would be so kind." Then he turned and headed up the stairs.
As a modicum of blood returned to Spike's cranium, his head thunked down on the hard concrete floor of the basement, his eyes closing in dismay. "Clearly need a better protection spell for the bloody place," he muttered darkly.
Buffy sighed and stood up off him, rebuttoning and straightening her clothes. "Welcome to my world with the barging in of friends at all hours." She reached a hand down and pulled him to his feet.
"Friends like that, ya don't need enemies," he groused, buckling his belt as she brushed dust and dirt from the back of his coat.
She laughed lightly, coming around to his front again. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned in, and kissed him gently. "I love you muchly."
Spike sighed, snaking his arms around her, and resting his forehead on hers. "Love you too... even if your sodding friends have my balls turning blue."
"Our friends," she corrected.
He rolled his eyes and snorted. "Don't go laying this off on me, Slayer. When they're annoying, they're your sodding friends, which is a good bit of the time."
She smiled, pulling back. "That seems totally with the fairness," she deadpanned, taking his hand as they turned for the stairs.
There was tea in the kitchen, steaming in cups on the island, threatening to spill and leave stains on the various to-do lists and catalogs and paint samples that were strewn across it. Spike didn't know he had any tea in the house... or biscuits, which were arranged on a plate nearby.
"Things must be of the dire, Giles brought snacks," Buffy observed as she dove on the plate of chocolate frosted cookies, snatching three of the thin wafers up before going to the fridge to grab a Diet Coke, completely ignoring the tea steeping in one of Giles' 'everyday' teapots. Unlike the Council, she apparently didn't rate the fancy china.
"Actually, the digestives were my idea," Lydia remarked, sauntering in from the front room, a teacup and saucer in hand.
Spike let out a low growl when he saw her that likely only Buffy heard.
"Digestives?" The Slayer wrinkled her nose at the cookies. "This isn't like, Ex-Lax, is it?"
Spike snorted and picked one up, though his steely gaze was locked on the approaching woman. At least Buffy was here t' stop him killing the Council bitch. He bit into the chocolate covered crisp with more vehemence than necessary, imagining his fangs tearing through a certain council-woman's throat and squeezing her life's blood into one of Giles' poncy cups before dropping her limp body onto the floor. Digestives never tasted so sweet.
Giles gave Buffy a fatherly smile. "Not at all. They were said to ease heartburn when first introduced."
The Slayer frowned, looking between the two Watchers. "Does that mean you're here to give me heartburn? In that case, I agree with Spike, we need to get an upgrade to the protection ward. No stomach turn-y people allowed." She looked directly at Lydia when she said it.
"I'm afraid we do have some news to report, which may cause you upset," Giles said, removing his glasses and pulling out a handkerchief. "Miss Chalmers?" he prompted.
Lydia set her cup and saucer down on the kitchen island and cleared her throat. "It appears the Council has sent someone else to Sunnydale without informing us... a witch by the name of Malvina. I believe you've met her previously. She's quite... distinctive. Tall, extraordinarily dark skinned, obsidian eyes, short, peroxided hair, beakish features?"
"The witch that was with the retrieval team," Buffy confirmed.
Lydia nodded.
"What's she doing here? They agreed, no touching, no 'napping, no hurting, no..." Buffy began.
"I believe she's here to observe and report," Lydia cut her off.
"On what?" Buffy demanded.
"On me... on my... mission," the Council woman admitted sheepishly.
"Your liaison mission?" Buffy asked dubiously.
Lydia cleared her throat and shared a look with Giles, then shifted her guilty gaze to Spike. "I'm afraid I must break a confidence in order to—"
"You sodding bitch!" Spike exclaimed, lunging for her throat, but Buffy, sensing his movement before he ever sprung, stepped between them as Lydia scurried back.
"Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Buffy exclaimed, dropping the cookies she'd still had in her hand and looking between her irate boyfriend and the terrified woman. The Slayer had a hand pressed hard against Spike's chest, holding him at arm's length as he glared past her at Lydia. When Buffy looked at the other woman, Lydia dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to hold the Slayer's eyes.
"Someone needs to make with the spillage! Giles?" Buffy tried.
Giles cleared his throat and slipped his glasses back on. "It appears that Spike and Miss Chalmers have struck a deal."
"Shut the fuck up, Watcher!" Spike growled, releasing Lydia from his penetrating gaze, and pinning the man with it instead.
"What kind of deal?" Buffy asked, turning to look directly at Spike, dropping her hand as she turned to face him squarely. "What's going on?"
Spike's jaw clenched, the muscles in his cheek ticking madly.
"Your employment package," Giles answered. "Spike... negotiated with Miss Chalmers for that."
Buffy's stomach dropped, turning to water in her gut. She felt hot, angry tears sting her eyes, but she bravely willed them back. She couldn't stop her mind from jumping and whirling, though, processing everything, remembering all the jealousy and niggling suspicions she'd been ignoring and suppressing and assuring herself were nothing. Buffy could still see the avarice in the liaison's eyes during their first meeting when Lulu had asked about Spike, how desperately she'd wanted to meet him, how she flushed and stammered just thinking about being in the same room as 'William the Bloody'. Then there were all those whispered conversations between the Council bitch and her boyfriend, and Spike's strange mid-day 'errands'. In her spinning mind, it all added up to one thing. "You... you fucked her for..."
"WHAT?!" Spike exclaimed, his fiery blue gaze finally meeting Buffy's.
"Certainly not!" Lydia said from somewhere behind Giles. "It was an interview, nothing more... information gathering on vampires in general, William the Bloody, and the Order of Aurelius, in particular."
"You didn't...?"
"What the hell d'ya think I am, Slayer? A bloody two-timing whore? 'Course I didn't shag the bint."
She held his eyes for several long, intense moments, then finally nodded, blinking hard to swallow back all her ruinous emotions. "But, it was you who… that means I didn't actually earn anything..."
"You bloody well did! You do every sodding day! You're the fucking Slayer!" Spike contended, taking a step back from her as he began to pace agitatedly across the hardwood of the family room.
"But you had to... sell yourself to get it from them. I didn't convince them... I didn't win anything."
"OI! Didn't sell myself! Just... just talked a bit. Nothing I wouldn't do for free given half a chance and a bottle o' Jack."
"But you didn't tell me about it... you lied to me. You... god, you lied to me..." Buffy's already roiling stomach twisted into a tight knot. "You promised you wouldn't..."
"Wasn't a lie, was a... a fib! Did it for you, pet," Spike explained, coming to a stop in front of her.
He reached for her shoulder, but she batted his hand away, taking a step back from him, her expression horrified, betrayed. "Don't touch me! You lied to me! What else did you lie about? All those errands you were running in the middle of the day... you said you were at Willy's, playing poker and getting cigarettes and... and you were lying to me, weren't you?!"
"Did it for you, you dozy chit! To get you what you deserve. Bloody hell!"
"YOU PROMISED!"
"Well, you fucking promised me all of your sodding tomorrows, and look how well that worked out! You broke your bloody promise, broke my heart, shattered it, in point of fact! Was ready to give up, wasn't I? Didn't care to be in this sodding world anymore, asked you to hold up your end of that hateful letter and stake me! But you couldn't, could you? Ripped me into pieces after you promised not to. Why? Because of a bloody buggering dream from my barmy ex! You were ready to throw everything away because of a sodding nightmare. So, you lied too, Buffy, and you bloody left me! Two things you promised not to do."
"I DID THAT FOR YOU! To save you!" she screamed at him, taking a step back toward him, eyes wild, fists clenched at her sides.
"AND I DID THIS FOR YOU! So you could get a small bit of what you deserve. What's the sodding difference?!" he yelled back, leaning in, his hands also curled in rage.
"I thought I could trust you! I thought... I never thought you'd lie to me!"
"And I thought I could trust you... guess neither of us has a lick o' sense, do we?" he snapped back.
"You're a fucking ass!"
"'Least I'm not a stuck-up bitch!"
"I HATE YOU!" No, I don't…
"Right back at'cha, Slayer!" Gonna kill that council bitch soon as I get a mo'...
"Bastard! Get out!" Why does it hurt so much?
"It's my fucking house! You get out!" Please stay…
"Fine!" she spat. God, I'm dying. I must be dying. Buffy turned on her heel and strode down the short hallway toward the front door. Only sheer force of will kept the hot tears from coating her cheeks. She would not cry in front of these traitors, these liars. She would go home, call Willow, and they'd hang out with their friends Ben and Jerry. THEN she could cry. She could cry a river, a sea, a whole ocean of tears. Spike lied… Those things in the contract, all the things she thought she'd earned, thought she'd convinced them she was worth, they'd been bought and paid for with a vampire's words. She wondered how much he'd told the stupid council woman that he'd never bothered to tell her… how many stories Lilian knew that she didn't. Did the liaison know Spike better than Buffy now? Why did her heart feel like it was choking her throat? Surely she must be dying.
Giles intercepted her and directed her into the empty living room before she could reach the exit. She was too shaken to resist his gentle guidance, but when they stopped in the middle of the room, she pulled her arm from his grip and looked up at him with a steely gaze. "Did you know? Does everyone know but me?"
He shook his head. "I had my suspicions that something was awry. My family has been associated with the Council for many decades, my grandmother was a Watcher, as was her uncle, and... well, let's just say there is a long association. I've never even heard a rumor of such an... offering to a Slayer. Not even a discussion of one.
"I only recently discovered this arrangement between Miss Chalmers and Spike when she came to me with... with some new concerns." He stopped and gave her an understanding, but grave look. "I've been lobbying for a stipend for you for quite some time, Buffy, to no avail. Yet, in just a few weeks, Spike was able to do what I couldn't—do more than I'd ever dreamed possible—despite my best efforts. You shouldn't punish him for that. I truly believe he acted in your best interests in negotiating on your behalf, as I, myself, had been trying to do."
She snorted. "He lied to me."
"Yes, well... perhaps that was a poor choice on his part."
"Ya think?"
"But I am certain he meant well."
"Why are you on his side? You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I am on your side. I am always on your side."
"Unless you're feeding me drugs and lying to me yourself, you mean?" she bit out sharply.
Stab. Twist. Giles dropped his gaze, removing his glasses but forgetting to polish them. "Yes, well... I don't know how else to apologize for that or what more I can do to regain your trust, but I assure you that I am on your side."
"It hurts. I thought... I thought I could trust him." Buffy felt her tears winning the battle with her will and turned away from Giles, looking out the front window but not really seeing anything.
"Buffy, my dear, I believe you can trust him. You freely admit you made a mistake pushing him away and telling him you didn't love him when you clearly do. He... he made a mistake, and he will make more, as we all will. Perhaps, being a vampire, Spike is inclined to make even more than most. Perhaps he lacked discernment in this instance, perhaps it could've been handled better, but I know his heart is in the right place. He loves you, Buffy."
"When did you join the Official Spike Fanclub? Do you have t-shirts and a secret handshake?"
"I assure you, I am not a member of... There's an Official Spike Fanclub?" Giles asked, confused.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why do you keep defending him? What happened to vampire: bad?"
Giles sighed, a small smile coming to his lips as he slipped his glasses back on. "I suppose I'm just getting doddering in my old age... or perhaps it's because of the sacrifices he's made for all of us, particularly you. And this deal he's made with Miss Chalmers is simply another example of that. He only wants what's best for you."
"What's best for me is having someone I can trust to not lie to me," she sulked, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Yes, well... perhaps he could use the same."
"Wow, Giles… again I ask, whose side are you on?"
"Buffy, we are all flawed individuals who make mistakes, but when the mistake was made with pure intentions, perhaps forgiveness is the best course of action."
"I don't want to be lied to, it hurts."
"You should tell him that."
"Pretty sure I did," she grumbled.
Giles gently turned her so she was facing into the room again, then took a step back. "Tell him again. Perhaps you could both employ less vitriol this time," he advised as her eyes met Spike's across the room. "I'll just go check on Miss Chalmers. I assume you haven't yet 'ripped her head off and drunk from her brainstem'?" he asked, arching a brow at Spike.
"No, but was a close thing," he admitted, pursing his lips angrily.
Giles gave him a curt nod and left the two blondes alone.
Silence crashed down like a wave, suffocating and immense, as they stared at each other across the room, energy and emotions crackling between them like static electricity. Then, when it became more than either could bear, both spoke at once.
"Buffy..."
"Spike..."
They both stopped, letting the heavy, buzzing silence fall between them again.
"I'm..." they both said in unison after the pressure of the thick air once again got to be too much.
"You..." Another duet.
Spike clamped his lips into a hard line and waved a hand at her. His eyes looked haunted, but a spattering of anger still danced at the edges. Buffy tried not to react to the anger, though part of her gravitated toward it like a magnet. He'd lied! Spike had lied, like Angel and Giles and Dad, he knows how hard it is for me to trust and he knows how much lying hurts. He lied… She could feel the venomous words rising in her throat and tried to swallow them back. Despite everything, she loved him, she didn't want to lose him. Turning and walking away from him had ripped open the barely-healed wounds from her own lies, and it hurt more than she could've imagined. She couldn't throw him away again. Her heart would bleed until she withered into nothingness.
Giles was right. They could get past this. She could forgive. Spike had forgiven her when she told him a lie more heinous than this.
She managed only to swallow the hateful tone, not the words. "You lied to me." A statement, not an accusation.
"Yeah," Spike agreed, deliberately keeping his own voice as neutral as humanly, or vampirely, possible.
Buffy nodded slowly, gnawed her lip a moment, then said, "I lied to you."
"Yeah." It took more to keep the hurt from his tone this time, but he managed... mostly.
"I'm sorry."
"You've said," he replied flatly.
"You haven't."
"No."
"You aren't sorry?"
"For what I did, no, for hurting you… yes. Knowing I hurt you guts me."
"You knew I would be hurt when I found out."
"Didn't intend for that to happen."
"No one ever does."
Spike gave a half shrug, inclining his head in agreement.
They stood in thick silence for a few moments before Buffy asked, "But, why would you?"
Spike pursed his lips and walked over to the window to look out. He stood with his hands planted on his hips, his body tense. "Your mum..."
"My mom knows? She lied to me too?"
"No!" He spun to face her, eyes glinting like blue agate, hard and angry. "Stop doin' that... let me sodding finish 'fore you go leaping off ledges, getting brassed off again."
"I've never gotten un-brassed off!"
Spike narrowed his eyes at her.
Buffy crossed her arms and pressed her lips closed, forming a jagged line, meeting his gaze with her own granite green.
When she stayed quiet for more than a few seconds, he continued, "Your mum said you'd never had a proper job... that it was a rite o' passage or whatnot, earning dosh of your own. Thought... thought it was something you needed, getting all emancipated and what-all. She didn't put me up to it, was just a comment... but it seemed right, and seeing how chuffed you were by it all, I reckon it was."
"But it was a lie," Buffy groaned, her voice begging him to understand.
"But... you still earned it! Just cos the fucking Council is a miserly bunch o' blighters doesn't mean ya don't deserve it and a good bit more, at that. I just... gave 'em a bit of... enticement t' do the right thing, is all."
"But you lied to me. You broke your promise."
Spike sighed and threw his hands up in frustration. "Yes! I lied. For you."
"It's still a lie! It still hurts! I trusted you... I thought you... I... Spike, how can I believe anything you say now?"
"Oh, don't be so bloody dramatic," he groused. "You kicked me to the sodding curb not a week ago! Said you didn't love me, couldn't be with me. How do I know you won't do that again tomorrow, eh?"
"Because I said I wouldn't."
"Yeah, well... we've already established that you're a liar, haven't we? So why should I believe you?"
"You're a bastard," Buffy mumbled under her breath knowing good and well he could still hear her.
"Yeah, well, you're a right bitch," Spike snarked back without a trace of venom in his voice.
A sigh gusted from Buffy, heavy with frustration and anger. She turned her back on the window and slid down the wall beneath it until she was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, face resting in her hands.
Spike's shoulders slumped. He stepped over and joined her on the floor, not quite touching, but so close he could feel the heat of her. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Didn't mean it... not a bitch."
"Actually... you're not wrong. I can be... but it doesn't mean I'm not right… about the lying and the not doing it to each other."
Spike dropped his head back against the plaster, his eyes looking up toward the ceiling. "Thought I was doing the right thing... was just trying to... for you. Everything I do is always for you, kitten."
Buffy's tears were hot as they coursed down her cheeks, her willpower too overwhelmed to hold them back. "I know."
"Maybe was just wrong-headed about it," he admitted.
"I wish you had told me. It... it could've been our plan, together."
"Was trying t' let you have the glory... you're the one what deserves it."
"I'd rather have us work together and not... not hide things from each other."
Spike nodded solemnly, bowing his head, and looking at his boots.
Buffy's chin wobbled as she turned to look at him, her eyes and cheeks glistening with salty tears. "Where have you really been when you told me you were at Willy's?"
"The Edna May House..."
Her brow furrowed. "What's that?"
"Old house out on the bluff, lookin' over the ocean... It's all divided up into rooms for rent."
"Oh. And... you met with her in the... lobby?"
Spike grit his teeth, rolling his head along with his eyes. "Nooo... can't be talking about this bollocks out in the bleedin' lobby. Met in the chit's room."
The Slayer pursed her lips, her heart and stomach churning. "Alone... in her room? But you didn't... sleep with her?"
He huffed out a breath and looked over to meet her eyes. "One thing I'm not, pet, is a Lothario. Teased her a bit... flirted, admit that, but would never, could never step out on the woman I love. Serial monogamist, I am."
Buffy nodded consideringly. "Don't flirt with her anymore. I... I don't like it."
"Got my word."
"And don't lie to me again. I... I need you to not be like the others, Spike. I need you to... love me and not leave me and not lie to me and... and trust me, because I know I did it too and I'm sorry, but I promise I'll never do it again and I'll talk to you and tell you what's going on even when I have weird Dru-id dreams that scare me and make me afraid I'll lose you, and I need you to do that too, tell me all the things, and just... just love me."
"What I want too, pet. We make a promise here—a sodding rule—right now, no more lies, no more hiding things. We tell each other the truth, even if we think it might hurt, because these lies… from both of us… all they've done is bollocks everything up and hurt each other, when that's the last thing we want, innit?"
Buffy nodded and sniffed. "No hiding anything except at Christmas… and National Hot Chocolate days, and Valentine's Day and…"
Spike gave her a small smile. "Exception for holiday treats," he agreed.
She nodded again, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "It really hurt…" she rasped, looking over to meet his eyes. "Walking away from you just now… it hurt so much."
"Nearly broke me when I thought you were leaving. Love you with all my heart, Buffy. How could I not? You're the sun and the moon and the stars. You're my home, my anchor, my heart... you're my soul, Buffy. My lost soul... that dark, hollow place inside me, it shines in your reflection. Never thought it could feel like this... not until you smiled at me." Spike shifted and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, drinking her in with his eyes. "Take my breath away every time I look at you, make my heart sing when you smile at me, make my knees weak when you kiss me. I'm yours, pet. All yours, always."
Spike leaned in and kissed her softly, tasting the salt of her tears mixed with the sweet traces of the biscuit, the fiery tang of 'Slayer', and the cherry blossom glow of 'Buffy'. "Love you so bloody much. Never meant to hurt you, Buffy. Never."
"I know," she murmured against his lips, cupping his face with her palm as she returned the kiss. "Love you... I'm sorry too. I… I still hate you though."
"Hate you too, pet, so bloody much," Spike murmured into her mouth as he slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her closer.
Buffy had just swung one leg over his and settled onto his lap to deepen the kiss even further when, for the second time since getting back to the house, the rough clearing of a throat stopped them.
"If you've got that quite settled," Giles said from the foyer, "We do have some rather urgent business to discuss."
"Oh," Buffy muttered, remembering someone had said something about that witch being in town for... something. "We'll be right there."
She sighed and sat back to look at Spike, his expressive eyes still stormy with emotion. She was sure hers were too. "Let's go be heroes," she whispered, touching a tender kiss to his lips.
"Rather swear my love and promise you my last drop o' blood while I shag you silly."
She snorted a soft laugh. "You can do that later."
"Promise?"
Buffy grinned and held up two fingers in some kind of salute... Scouts? Brownies? Green Berets? "Promise."
-X-
"Well, now that you've broken your bloody word, best have a good reason if you intend t' avoid the evisceration I've planned," Spike taunted Lydia as he and Buffy returned to the kitchen.
The Council woman shifted uncomfortably, looking around the empty, freshly painted family room. The kitchen island was the only barrier available, and she moved to put it between herself and the vampire.
Buffy broke away from Spike and circled the other direction around the paper-strewn countertop. "Double for me," she threatened with a feral smile. "You lied to me too. In case you hadn't noticed, I really don't like being lied to."
"I...I..." Lydia spluttered, looking from one to the other with wide, panicked eyes.
Giles sighed heavily. "If you two are quite finished," he drawled impatiently. "We really do have some issues to discuss."
Buffy and Spike both stopped moving toward the woman but continued to glare for another few, tension-filled seconds before finally turning their attention back to Giles.
"So, the wicked witch of the west is in town," Buffy prompted, folding her arms over her chest. "Discuss."
Giles looked down the length of the island to Lydia, who cleared her throat, and reached for a folder on the countertop. "It appears..." She took a paper from the folder and placed it between Buffy and Spike, who stood on each side of the island, between the two Watchers. "...That, despite my best efforts to keep our arrangement confidential—that is the agreement between myself and... and Mr. Bloody— it was discovered by Mr. Travers," she explained.
Spike picked up the paper, which was a letter from Travers to Lydia, instructing her to use whatever information she had gleaned from Spike against him, to separate him from the Slayer. His temper began to reignite the further he read. He could take being called a loathsome creature, a parasite, even an 'it', but...
'We would understand, of course, if the mutual destruction of William the Bloody and Buffy Anne Summers could not be prevented. This would also be an acceptable conclusion to this matter.'
He began pacing, waving the paper around madly. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? This is their way around killing her themselves, eh? Think we'll kill each other? Clearly haven't been payin' attention the last couple o' years, have they? Sodding bastards! Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as Buffy leaned across the counter when he got back within reach and snatched the paper from his hand.
"Spike isn't a 'parasite'! O-or a 'loathsome creature', or an 'it'," Buffy exclaimed, reading the letter. "'A more focused and dedicated Slayer, one who is fully committed to our cause and values.' I'm focused and dedicated! Just not drowning in their stupid old man Kool-Aid!" By now Buffy was pacing too, her ire rising with every word she read. "This isn't an 'unholy alliance'! God, what a pompous ass!"
"Be that as it may," Giles said loudly, taking a few steps forward to retrieve the letter from Buffy, who scowled at him but released it. "That is the gist of our dilemma which we would like to discuss with you both."
Spike speared Lydia with his hard, blue eyes. "This what you were trying t' do with the bollocks about my mum? Thinking by telling the Slayer some half-baked theory you had 'bout my mum, you'd get her to stake me?"
Lydia dropped her gaze to the cluttered countertop. "I... I felt I had to at least appear to be following the directive. I am rather backed into a corner here, as you may imagine. If I ignore the orders, I'll be shuffled off into some dark corner of the archives, never to be seen again."
"Oh, boo-hoo," Buffy mocked, moving back to the counter. "And, what? We're supposed to feel sorry for you? Color me utterly un-sorry."
"Unfortunately," Giles broke in. "One of the conditions of Spike's bargain was several favors from Miss Chalmers..."
Buffy's eyes widened and she turned her horrified gaze on Spike. "Favors?"
"Not that kinda favor, Slayer, fuck's sake," he grumbled with an eye roll. "Council favors... warnings 'bout the great git's plans, anything affecting you... also supposed t' look into getting that bleedin' magic demon sword for ya."
"Quite right," Giles agreed. "She was to be our inside man, if you will. Which she would be unable to do from the archives."
Buffy scowled. "We've gotten by okay so far without Mati Hari here, or that sword. I say let her rot."
"Actually, Mati Hari was likely innocent—" Lydia began pedantically, but Buffy's glare cut her off.
"I believe Spike may contest your view that we have been 'okay'," Giles put in. "And my leg would like to file its official dissent with that assertion, as well."
Buffy's scowl turned into a guilty frown as images of Spike's bloody, ravaged body flashed through her mind, and her dog, shot through the leg, wining pitifully, and Giles had only recently started walking without a cane, but he still had a limp. "How do we even know we can trust her? She's obviously good at lying and word-breaking." The Slayer glanced at Spike then they all turned their full attention on Lydia.
The Council woman took a deep breath, lifting one hand, but then clearly resisting the urge to tug on her high collar, and dropping it again. She swept her eyes over her three inquisitors before settling her gaze on Buffy.
"Not telling you of the arrangement was one of Spike's conditions. Lying to you had not been my intention at the start, but I felt I had no choice if I wanted the interview."
"Which you wanted... why?" Buffy pressed, leaning one hip on the bar, and crossing her arms.
"I... I had the notion that I could use insights gleaned from this interview to update my thesis on William the Bloody, and provide invaluable knowledge to the Council that could be used in training..." She stopped and sighed, her tense shoulders slumping slightly. "I simply wanted to gather facts, learn more about vampires in general, and William the Bloody in particular. Not to use against him; not to wield like a weapon, but to educate Watchers and potential Slayers, to help them be more effective in the never-ending battle against the forces of darkness. Spike is a wealth of knowledge; he's killed two Slayers, met and fought a cadre of others—his experience and observations could be exceedingly useful in developing training guides and updating the Slayer Handbook."
She paused and shook her head in dismay. "It was naïve on my part, I suppose, to think I could keep the arrangements with Spike confidential. Clearly, Mr. Travers knew of our agreement from the start. It's likely the only reason it was approved."
"Thought you said dealin' with this UFO person would keep him out of it," Spike pointed out.
"CFO," Lydia corrected, thinking that Buffy was clearly rubbing off on the vampire—he was starting to talk like her. "I thought it would... In fact, I don't believe that is where the leak originated. I am nearly certain that it was my... source in the Archival Research Unit... where I got these." She pulled a second folder from within the first and opened it, revealing several stapled sheafs of paper.
"What are these?" Buffy asked as she and Spike reached down and picked up one of the packets.
"Diaries and other reports of vampires working with Slayers," Lydia explained. "It was another thing that Spike requested as part of the agreement."
"You sodding bitch," he muttered, riffling through the pack he'd picked up, remembering her denial in the library several nights ago. "You had these that night, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry... I... I was still unsure how to proceed at that time," the Council woman said, chagrined.
Spike clenched his jaw and returned his attention to the papers. The words 'EYES ONLY – DO NOT COPY' were boldly emblazoned at the top of every page—not stamped on these pages, but on the originals. Meaning these copies had been obtained illicitly. Some of the reports were handwritten, some typed on an old-fashioned typewriter. Who was her inside man and how much more was the council hiding?
"How many?" Spike asked, looking up at Lydia.
"Seven. Seven cases of vampires working with Slayers in earnest. Including your assistance in defeating Angelus and Acathla, and Angel's continued alliance with Buffy. I didn't include any that were simply ploys to gain a particular Slayer's trust and kill her."
"Not many," Spike mused.
"But not just us..." Buffy breathed, tears of relief blurring her vision. It really was true, all here in black and white. They weren't the only deviants. Not just us. Not just me.
There had been others and the world had not ended. Giles had been right... this latest apocalypse wasn't punishment, it was just another Tuesday in Sunnydale.
"No, not many, but not just you," Lydia agreed. "Actually, it is perhaps more than one might expect, considering of seven, only one has a soul. And I suspect more will be uncovered as we proceed. This is just what I've received thus far."
"Do these couples have anything in common?" Buffy asked.
"All of the Slayers in these documents have been recognized as exceptional, with a great deal more than average skill and experience. They all survived their Cruciamentums... they were some of the longest lived Slayers in history."
Buffy leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at the Council Liaison. "So, how do these experienced, exceptional Slayers who are working with vampires die?"
"Well, um… of these seven, erm, six as you are one, five have perished in terrible accidents usually along with the vampire they were working with. If the vampire didn't dust with her, then they dusted soon after. One Slayer was ambushed by a large nest of vampires while her consort was away; he perished later, seeking revenge."
"Accidents, huh? In other words, the Council's wet works team got rid of them, just like the one who already tried to take us out?"
Lydia cleared her throat and nodded. "I suspect that to be the case."
"So, who is this blighter that spilled the beans t' Travers, and how do I get m' hands on him?" Spike asked calmly.
Lydia cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Malcom... Malcom Chalmers. My father."
While Giles seemed unsurprised, both Spike and Buffy looked up at her, incredulity washing over their expressions.
"Your father?" Buffy spoke first. "Your father ratted you out to your boss?"
Lydia nodded forlornly as her mind replayed going to Giles a few days ago and confessing her dilemma to him...
"I can't believe my own father would inform on me," she'd lamented, sitting at the research table with Giles after explaining her agreement with Spike to the former Watcher, as well as her new directive from Mr. Travers.
Giles had given her a sympathetic smile. "It's taken me a while to realize that blood may be thicker than water, but water runs deeper."
She'd looked at him quizzically.
He'd shrugged. "We cannot choose our family. We can choose our friends and where to put our loyalties... we can choose the waters we wish to swim in."
Lydia had sighed and nodded, dropping her gaze to her well-worn thesis lying on the table in front of her.
Giles continued, "I recently made the mistake of allowing my training to override my good sense, allowed my insecurities to make me doubt my own heart... my instincts. I let the Council dictate my actions, though I knew deep down they were wrong. I believe that you, like me, can see how special Buffy is, not just as a Slayer, but as a person. I can assure you that she does not deserve to be treated in this manner, to have her life dictated even more by people who don't even know her, who don't care about her as anything more than a weapon. I think you know that."
"I feel used... dirty... this entire business pains my soul," Lydia had admitted.
"Yes, I imagine you would. I've felt that way myself."
She'd glanced up a moment, then back down. "You... approve of her relationship with Spike?"
It had been Giles' turn to sigh. He removed his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief to polish them. "I'm not sure I would approve of anyone she took up with—none of them would be good enough for her."
"You sound like her father, not her Watcher."
"Yes, well... I suppose that is why I am no longer Buffy's Watcher," Giles had admitted, looking up at her. "But, as her former Watcher, I can see that Spike has proven himself to be trustworthy and... and he seems sincere in his affections and loyalty. It's hard to deny his dedication given what he did for... well, everyone." Giles paused for a moment, holding her gaze with his. "He's chosen water over blood... in his case, quite literally." He slipped his glasses back on. "Buffy is my priority, her continued survival as well as her happiness, and I can't deny that having Spike at her side will increase her chances at both."
Lydia nodded. "I believe you are correct. From what I've learned and seen, Spike seems quite smitten and sincere in his affections. And, clearly, Buffy is as well." She'd looked up and met his eyes. "So, where does that leave us? How do I proceed? Should I resign? Or simply refuse—"
"Let's not do anything hasty," Giles had advised. "We need a strategy... something that will allow you to remain on the Council, in a position of esteem where you can do the most good, while keeping your soul unblemished."
Lydia's memory of the conversation with Giles was interrupted by Buffy muttering, "And I thought my dad had swept all the little statues at the 'Asshole Father of the Decade' awards."
"My father is loyal to the Council," Lydia retorted, inexplicably defending him.
Buffy snorted. "Yeah, most of you fashion-challenged tweedy dorks have swallowed way too much Council Kool-Aid. What's confusing me is... why are you telling us all this? Why aren't you blindly following the rules like a good little automaton? And just where does this witch come into the equation?"
"We believe she is here to observe and report," Giles answered. "Miss Chalmers was not notified of her arrival. I happened to notice her watching the school just yesterday. We aren't certain how long she's been here, but since she has not made any attempt to contact Miss Chalmers, or do any harm, we can only assume her role is that of an observer, most likely by magical means, which is why we are holding this meeting here, as this residence is well shielded, even from magical eavesdropping."
"Observing what?" Buffy asked.
"Your relationship," Lydia answered. "Or more precisely, my success or failure at carrying out the directive to drive a wedge between you two, and separate you from the parasite," she explained, quoting Travers' letter, and flinching slightly when a low growl emanated from both Buffy and Spike.
"And again I ask, you're not doing that, why?" Buffy prodded.
"Because it's wrong."
Buffy's brows rose and she looked over at Spike, who met her gaze. After a moment of silent communication between the two blondes—Buffy's eyes asking if he trusted Latricia, should they believe her—Spike shrugged.
The Slayer looked between the two Watchers. "Okay, so, what's the plan?"
-X-
Chapter End Notes:
We'll find out the plan to deal with this on Thursday.