A/N: Massive thanks to Geliot99 without whom Buffy and Spike would have never made it to London
Buffy sighed as she walked back to their hotel room from yet another London nightclub. Giles's contact was convinced there was a vengeance demon targeting a variety of jaded performers and artists but after three nights going from club to club they still hadn't found anything, beyond a good time. Spike had suggested they might have better luck if they split up, offering to take another section of the gargantuan city while Buffy hit a few more spots near their hotel.
However hanging out in clubs alone wasn't exactly her idea of a fun night. As a result Buffy had ended up just patrolling the streets of Camden alone.
Camden was a hotbed of demon activity. Spike seemed to have mixed feelings about staying there. On one hand he was thrilled to be submerged in an area he dubbed "Punk Central" and if they didn't have the school in Edinburgh and a house to go back to, she could totally see the two of them settling down there. On the other hand Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that there was something just a little off with Spike since they arrived. She would occasionally catch little waves of agitation coming off of him through their link but then it would disappear again. He seemed to thrive in this part of the city in a way she had only ever really seen him in the demon market in Edinburgh.
Camden also had a huge warren of shops that was practically underground, no daylight. It wasn't exactly a demon market but more of an all inclusive center of activity for humans and demons alike. The fact that such a place even existed was something Buffy had to wrap her head around. Little by little her view of the world and her role in it was shifting. Her job teaching new Slayers suddenly seemed more important than ever before.
It was a Slayer's job to fight evil and to protect the innocent. The old Watchers Council had a very black and white view of good and evil, but the world was made up of shades of gray and splashes of color that couldn't be quantified so easily. She saw it in Paris at Leon's cabaret, and in the Edinburgh underground. She could see it in Steve and Lilias. The very first night Spike had taken her out in Camden she could see it in a few of the demon and vampire shopkeepers. Somehow, just knowing that the world wasn't as black and white as she once saw it, gave her hope for the future.
That being said, she had already staked three vampires actively attacking humans outside two different clubs. The world might not be black and white but there was still a distinction between good and evil. The trick was finding the balance and ultimately doing the right thing. Kill the baddie.
Buffy was rousted from her musings when a vampire came out from between two buildings catcalling her. "Ello, princess. Ain't you just a pretty little thing?"
Oh yeah, this guy is toast…She thought.
"Funny you should say that," she landed a kick to his chest, "I had been living in a castle for weeks and you're the first one to call me princess." She punched. The hit landed badly when he dodged and yanked on the back of her shirt. She jerked out of his grasp harder than necessary and the momentum sent her stumbling. She regained her footing quickly enough and spun around with a roundhouse kick catching him in the side of the head, brought up her stake and ended the fight. Buffy sighed, she was definitely ready to call it a night.
I sure hope Spike is having better luck than me… A bath sounds like a good idea. A bath and maybe a movie? Ohh… it could be a spa night. Ohh that's a good idea. Now where did I see that drugstore? She thought as she walked on.
She was less than a block away from their hotel when she spotted the drugstore and crossed the street to get to it. She took her time looking through the bath and beauty section of the store picking out new nail polish and a facial mask as well as a few other 'necessities', before heading back along the Camden Lock to their hotel next to the canal.
Buffy closed the door behind herself as she entered their hotel room. A feeling of intense calm washed over her. The room was nice in a standard sort of way. A queen sized bed dominated the space, there was a television, a table they had littered with weapons and a handful of flyers for local events, a few simple chairs and dressers. It was cozy and clean.
She walked over to the full length window overlooking the canal and sat down briefly in a navy blue barrel chair to take off her shoes. A crossbow stuck out of her bag and a couple of stakes were sitting out on the other chair and Buffy was infinitely grateful they had stuck the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door.
She got up to start filling the tub and began pulling her drugstore purchases from the bag. Spike wasn't likely to come back early tonight. She couldn't really blame him, it wasn't as though he could easily leave during the day. No, she was officially on her own tonight and she was taking full advantage of having the room to herself.
I declare tonight "Pamper Buffy Night'! She grinned to herself.
Spike walked along one of the many paths artfully crossing through Brompton Cemetery. The cemetery was vast, approximately forty acres of burial ground. Beautifully designed with The Vatican in mind and featured a network of catacombs beneath the colonnade. The cemetery itself was full of truly exceptional gardens, art, architecture, and wildlife.
Despite its morbid beauty he was still distracted when something rustled in a nearby flower bed and he narrowed his eyes toward it. This cemetery saw a fair amount of demon activity over the years, given the location and the presence of the catacombs. However it had been an absurdly quiet night. He stooped down into a low squat and gave a soft chuckle. "Out on the prowl are you?"
A young fox stuck its face out from between a clump of ground ivy and cherry laurel. The little fox watched Spike for a moment, blinked and darted away back behind a large angel statue and into a small cluster of trees beyond. Spike stood up, catching sight of a few bats darting above him. He had made regular visits to the place when he was alive. The squirrels had been particularly docile here and he would occasionally feed them on his visits. The cemetery itself had been a source of inspiration for his poetry and a place of quiet retrospection for him.
The particular mausoleum he had been looking for was just a short distance from the famous colonnade, behind the chapel. Spike looked up at the front of it studying the name displayed above the door. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and proceeded to break the lock and open the heavy door with its wrought iron gate forcefully.
He paused in the cramped dank space a moment, it wasn't anywhere near as large as his crypt in Sunnydale had been however it certainly wasn't small either. Directly across from the door was an ornamental window cut into the stone with a bench just below it. There were what amounted to large shelves along the walls on the left and right, intended for housing coffins. There was room enough for eight, however there were only three. Three ornately decorated coffins, two on one side, one on the other.
Spike stood staring at the one sitting alone in a space on his right and pulled it out into the center of the room, staring at the lid for another long moment. He hadn't been there in over a hundred years. The last time he had been here it didn't seem half as ghoulish.
Spike cleared his throat opening the lid of the coffin to reveal the desiccated remains of a man still dressed in what was once a very fine suit. There was a cloth over the man's head that Spike had put there himself the first time he had been here, unable to look at the man's distorted face.
"Hello, Dad…" he murmured out loud, "just came for mum's jewelry box, don't mind me…"
Spike clenched his jaw, lifting his father's legs to reach for the jewelry box he had hidden there. But it was gone… A stone dropped in the pit of his stomach. He set his father's legs back down carefully and sat down heavily on the stone bench. Clutching the back of his head in his hands, his black tipped fingers dug into his scalp.
Mum's ring… Bloody damn grave robbers… Not that I haven't done the same a few hundred times but sodding— This is mine. Crypt's got my name on the thing!
"What the hell am I supposed to do now? Buffy is one of a kind, Dad… she deserves something as unique as her. Thought Mum's ring would be just the thing… thought I'd lucked out she hadn't been wearing it when—" he sighed, as he pushed his head against the stone behind him.
Ain't you just a sodding mess, talking to your long dead dad? No worse than talking to yourself ya twit.
He sighed, shaking out of his rambling inner thoughts. "I dunno Dad, think Granny would have anything good? Stingy old bat… probably gave everything to Auntie Lydia anyway—" he grumbled as he pulled himself up and went over to one of the older coffins set into the wall and opened it. "Hello, Granny…" he said, eyeing the simple gold ring on the skeletal woman's bony finger.
He rolled his eyes, What the hell is the matter with you, William? Buffy wouldn't want that and you know it… especially knowing where you'd gotten it.
He left the ring, closed the lids on both his grandmother and father. He slid his father's coffin back into place, leaving the crypt just as he had found it, securing the door behind him. Spike pulled a cigarette out, lighting it and cast one last glance back at the name "PRATT" carved above the door.
Back to the drawing board it would seem…
Spike walked along sullenly. The disappearance of his mother's jewelry box didn't settle with him well. The sign for a pub caught his eye.
Could go for a pint… maybe something stronger.
He sat at the bar minding his own business until the familiar notes of a woman's laugh filled the air. He knew that laugh and it could only mean one thing. He turned toward the sound seeing the back of her head. Her hair was shorter than the last time he had seen her more than thirty years ago but it was still the same tawny brown his hair had once been and just as curly too.
He cleared his throat, garnering her attention, "Oi, Vivian, you got a hug for a wayward poet?"
She turned around beaming and gave a squeal of delight, throwing her arms around him, "William! Oh it's been too long! Look at you! Ohh your hair! I thought you would have grown out of that bleach thing by now…" she sighed, smiling at him, "Gods, William, it's good to see you. It's— wait… you—" her face fell and she pulled him by the arm, away from the bewildered looking man she had been talking to. "How is it you have a soul?" She asked bluntly.
Should have known that was coming.
"It's a long story, Viv, just say it's about a girl."
That piqued her interest, making her blue eyes sparkle, "A girl? You don't mean that flitty thing that turned you, surely?"
"No, not Dru. Know you never liked her."
"She killed you, William. It's not exactly easy to forgive something like that."
"Ohh not this again Viv, I didn't tell you to go join up with the likes of D'Hoffryn to avenge me or marry a sodding Frovlax—"
Vivian's eyes flashed angrily, "We are not going to discuss that good for nothing, philandering— Slimy bastard broke my heart!"
Slimy is right— yuck…
Spike frowned, keeping his inner voice at bay, "Sorry to hear. As much as the fellow grossed me out, I mean regurgitation, really? Disgusting…" he shook his head, "but I always thought Griff really loved you."
Vivian bit back a sob, "So did I—"
Spike wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Plenty of fish in the sea and all that rot." As he stood there, his initial shock at seeing her ebbed and a few things started to fall into place. He made an uncomfortable sound in the back of his throat and gestured to her to sit at the bar. "You want to talk?"
"Oi what do you think you're doing? I was having a chat with the lady!" The guy Vivian had been talking to barked as he came up to them.
They turned nearly identical sets of blue eyes on the man, they had completely forgotten he was there. Spike smirked, "Family business. Run along, mate."
"What, he your keeper or something? Pretty girl can't step out without a bloody chaperone?"
Vivian's back stiffened and she gave her head a shake, shifting into her demonic form, "I don't need a chaperone, but perhaps you should think about getting one." She glanced at Spike, "I don't suffer fools, I make fools suffer."
The man gulped, put his hands up and backed away slowly, "Right, yeah, I'm going…"
She turned back towards Spike, grinning, "That never gets old."
Spike sat back onto his barstool taking a sip of his beer, "What's with the bloody catchphrase?"
Vivian rolled her eyes as she took a seat next to him, "We can't all be wordsmiths, dear William. I am a muse. I inspire. I nurture. I help them get the recognition they deserve." She flagged down the bartender, "Could I get a mudslide over here, please?"
The bartender nodded her acknowledgement and started mixing the drink.
Spike rolled his eyes in response to her ludicrous order. "Bloody hell, Viv…" A few more cogs clicked into place. "You're the vengeance demon we've been looking for… of course you are…" Nothing is ever simple.
Vivian turned her body to look at him, "What are you talking about?"
He gave an exasperated sigh, "My girl and I are here on a business trip of sorts. She's the Slayer."
"Slayer… as in Vampire Slayer? There are Slayers all over the place now, you mean to tell me that you're dating one of them?" Vivian asked with her eyes wide.
He shrugged, and took another sip of his beer, "More like betrothed if I can find a sodding ring. And she isn't just some Slayer either, she's The Slayer."
Vivian blinked at him, "But you're The Slayer of Slayers… I'm really confused right now."
The bartenders brought her drink over and Vivian accepted it with a grin, taking a sip of the chocolatey concoction. He shook his head and took another long pull of his beer and attempted to give her a short but complete recap of his life since meeting Buffy.
"Wow…" Vivian gaped at him as he finished with an explanation of their presence in London.
"Yup. Can't say death has been boring," he said in a tone of agreement.
Vivian finished off her third drink, setting it down in front of her. "Wow…"
He nodded, "She's really a one of a kind woman."
"Wow…" she repeated.
He was starting to get annoyed, "You stuck on a loop?"
Vivian shook her head, "No, I just— I'm stunned. I always knew there was something of the sweet poet left in there somewhere but… Are you going to introduce me?"
He finished his beer, shifting his body towards her. "Can. Are you going to tell me what you're doing drawing so much attention to yourself round here? Does it have something to do with Griff?"
Vivian bit her lip in thought, "He left me for another Frovlax… His name is Robert," she choked, "and he's really quite lovely for a Frovlax… like Griff… He's a sculptor… I practically introduced them."
"Bloody hell," Spike swore under his breath, "When did this all happen?" He asked, already prepared for the answer.
Vivian waved a hand, "A few months now, I guess… Apparently it had been coming on for a while. I just didn't know about it until about two months ago…" she let out a little sob, "I thought we were so happy."
Spike swallowed. "Yeah I get that. So let me guess, you just threw yourself into your work, that it?"
She nodded with a watery chuckle, "Yeah, you could say that."
"Spending a lot of time in Camden, yeah?"
She nodded again. "It's full of starving artists looking for a little boost, and I have friends there, so it works out."
"It's where we're staying actually. Buffy is patrolling there tonight. Lookin' for you."
Vivian raised her eyebrows, "I sure hope she's not killing my friends."
Spike shrugged, "Not unless they're having a nosh on the human population."
"I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around you falling in love with a Slayer."
"Oh yeah, it's the real deal alright. The mutual crazies, she calls it."
Vivian laughed, "Oh yeah, I really do need to meet this girl."
Spike shifted off his barstool peering outside, "Anyhow, Viv, I should probably get a move on if I'm going to make it back before dawn."
Vivian eyed him, "You're not suggesting taking a cab are you?"
Spike snorted, "Well I'm certainly not going to walk clear to Camden."
She rolled her eyes and laid her hand on his shoulder. In a blink of an eye, they were standing next to the Regent Canal in Camden. Spike stumbled, back from her swearing a blue streak, "Bloody hell, Vivian, you could've at least warned a bloke before you did a thing like that!"
She shrugged her shoulders and turned, taking in the moonlit view. Spike straightened himself up, looking around, they were still a few blocks away from the hotel, but she had certainly cut down travel time.
Buffy was sitting on the bed with a towel on her head. Her face was covered in a refreshing green tea and cucumber mask and she was wearing nothing but the silky little red robe she had worn for Spike's birthday. She had taken her time in the bathtub enjoying the deluxe bath bomb she had bought herself. She was in the middle of painting her toenails a pretty sparkly purple while watching 'Miss Congeniality', when the door to their room opened.
"Hey Hun. I didn't expect you back so soon. Did you have any luck?" She said without looking up from her toenails.
"I did, actually," he answered as he ushered Vivian into the room.
"Great! So what—" Buffy looked up just as Vivian sat down in the empty chair.
"Oh I love this movie!" Vivian grinned.
Buffy's eyes blew wide as she turned her gaze onto Spike, "Who the hell is this and why is she just making herself at home in our room?"
Vivian turned around, glaring at him, "Are you kidding me, William?! You didn't even warn her?"
"Oi! Don't take that tone with me! You're the one who teleported us here."
"We walked the rest of the way, you nit! Didn't you just tell me you have some kind of a psychic connection? You mean you didn't think to give her a little psychic hint?"
Spike sputtered, "Well I was distracted and it's sort of a short distance kind of thing!"
Buffy glared at Spike, pulling her robe a little tighter, as she shifted herself over to the other side of the bed to grab a pair of yoga pants, pulling them on. Being very careful not to mess up her pedicure.
"Yes, William, please explain what had you so distracted that you couldn't give me a heads up through the door before you brought a total stranger in and why she knows so much about us." Feeling a little less exposed, physically, she sat back down on the bed.
Vivian smiled broadly at Buffy, "Oh I'm no stranger. We've known each other our entire lives, and then some. I'm his cousin."
Buffy's eyebrows shot up, glancing at Spike, "Come again?"
Spike rubbed the back of his neck, and moved over closer to Buffy. "Ahh yeah well there you have it, Buffy, Vivian. Vivian, Buffy." He turned an apologetic smirk to Buffy, "She's also the vengeance demon we're after," he replied in a defeated tone as he slumped down next to her on the bed.
Buffy gaped between the two of them, finally taking in the family resemblance, "We've been hunting your cousin? Seriously? Did you know?"
Spike's eyes widened in alarm, "No! Course not!"
Vivian nodded, "He really didn't. We haven't seen each other in, what? Like forty years?"
"Thirty, give or take five," he said, easing onto his elbows back onto the bed.
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek, frowning at Spike, "Cousin or not, people are dead, I can't—"
Vivian stood up abruptly, "What? Who's dead? I haven't killed anyone in the last five years."
Buffy frowned at that and Spike sat up again, "Didn't realize you were big on the bloodshed anyway, Viv."
She scrunched her nose, "Not usually, but sometimes. The last time was when I had this client who was badly assaulted by her husband. He threw her through a large painting she was doing as a commission so I made an exception."
"And what happened to your client?" Buffy asked.
"Same thing that always does, gave her the revenge she deserved, I repaired the painting so she would still make her deadline and she lived happily ever after."
"But you don't normally kill?"
"I prefer real vengeance as opposed to senseless violence. The best revenge normally is to go on living a happy life, while the lives of those who wronged you fall into disarray. It's more fun to let them suffer."
Buffy turned towards Spike blinking, "Not exactly the same MO huhh?"
"Not even a little," Spike agreed.
Buffy shifted off the bed again standing up, "Spike, show Vivian the pictures Giles's contact sent over. I'm going to go wash this stuff off my face. I think we need to talk."
