Buffy hummed happily as she headed toward home through the tunnels with her friends. They had spent most of the day at Steve and Bonnie's house delivering presents and visiting their new bundle of pure fluffy joy. She couldn't get over just how adorable Iris, their brand-new baby girl, really was. It was no surprise that she was practically a tiny clone of Bonnie. Buffy couldn't shake the thought that she almost looked more like a baby's toy rather than an actual baby, what with her adorable floppy ears and the fine layer of wooly fuzz covering her tiny body. Bonnie seemed to be adjusting to motherhood extremely well, and Steve was obviously smitten. Buffy couldn't wait for another chance to hang out with them again and play with little Iris more as she got bigger. Her mind started to wander about how soon she could get Spike back into the city to visit and nearly missed what Faith was saying.
"This is stupid. All of it," she complained loudly, slapping her thigh with the notebook she'd been looking through and pulling Buffy out of her thoughts as they made the long trek through the tunnels on their way home from the Underground City.
Buffy frowned, casting an eye to Willow and Ruby walking ahead of them with Lilias, making sure they were far enough ahead that they couldn't easily hear their conversation before settling a side glance on Faith. "If you didn't want to go see the baby then why did you even come with us?"
Faith huffed indignantly. "Not the baby, she's illegally cute… No, I'm talking about all this stupid wedding crap. Why the hell do weddings have to be so damn complicated?" she said waving the notebook in her hand.
Buffy's eyes went round with comprehension, their last dress-shopping extravaganza popped into her mind. It hadn't gone particularly well. "Pretty sure you're doing the complicated all by yourself. You just told me the other day you guys are doing this at the family brewery and his folks are taking care of the catering. Isn't that half the battle already?"
At the mention of Callum, Faith's shoulders relaxed visibly and she let out a long sigh. "I guess— I mean, what the hell do I know about weddings anyway? It's not like I've ever been to one. Something tells me I'm gonna need more than a few drinks to get through this," she laughed darkly, the sound reverberating off the brick walls of the tunnel.
"Sounds like you don't even really want a wedding. Why don't you just elope?" Buffy asked quietly.
"If it were up to me, we totally would."
"It is you— Literally, your wedding— How is it not up to you?" Buffy retorted.
"It's Callum's family— er, my… soon-to-be in-laws," she admitted, sounding as though she were struggling to get the words out.
Buffy blinked. "I thought you were playing nice with his family and things were good. Isn't Mrs. Ross all big with the mother-of-the-groom-yippee?"
"Big yes," she paused, hesitating as Ruby laughed with Lilias. They had nearly reached Lilias' tunnel and she had begun to say her goodbyes. Faith watched the women ahead of them almost wistfully as Willow hugged Lilias thanking her for coming along and sending her well wishes along for little Aftyn. Faith sighed. "I think that's sort of the problem."
"Is she being mom-zilla?" Buffy asked, waving to Lilias. Lilias returned the wave but for her part, seemed to sense the turmoil rolling off of Faith because she sent her a knowing look with a firm nod of her head before separating herself from the group.
"No, she's kinda awesome…" Faith continued, "… they all are… and it's giving me this crazy impulse to make them like— I dunno happy and shit— It's kinda freaking me out," Faith murmured.
Buffy took a moment to think about that, realizing how important this was to Faith. She was in a good place in her life, which was significant, but then Callum had given her what was ostensibly the most stable relationship she could've ever even dreamed about. However, it was evident that the built-in family dynamic was something Faith hadn't counted on and she was worried she would somehow mess up just by being herself.
Faith picked at the corner of her notebook. "I never really imagined doing the marriage thing, ya know, so the whole sitch is weird as hell— and before you ask, yeah, I do want to marry Callum. He's incredible— Everyone in his family I've met so far has been cool—" she said finally.
"And you just want them to like you… I get that," Buffy shrugged. "I guess that's 'why-wedding?' answered— So, what's with the stressed?"
Faith gave her an exasperated look. "The major problem is that none of this damn wedding stuff feels like me," Faith bit out. "Every dress I try on feels like I'm some little kid playing dress up— and I swear, everything is totally covered in glitz and glam and I'm definitely not glitz-and-glam-girl. It's just not me."
"So, make it yours," Buffy replied. "Why don't you wear some totally cute leather jacket and some cool boots with your dress? You're getting married at a brewery, tell me that wouldn't make for some kickass pictures."
Faith tilted her head toward Buffy, a grin on her face. "I like the way you think, B, knew you were the goody-goody for the Maid of Honor job."
Buffy had a feeling this wasn't the end of the conversation but the tension in Faith's shoulders seemed to ebb slightly as they increased their pace, joining the rest of their group.
Faith's wedding seemed to be on the fast track and Buffy couldn't blame her for being tense but it had her on the lookout for any signs Faith might bolt. So far, aside from some issues like the one she just expressed, she had been fairly quiet about the whole thing. How she was able to remain so quiet was beyond her.
She and Spike had only just started their own wedding plans, and Buffy was already starting to become obsessed with the process, envisioning an outdoor wedding on the castle grounds. A vision that had been spurred into existence, by the fact Giles had recently hired a landscaper to give the grounds a facelift. When Buffy had found out about Gioes' plans, the image of having her wedding there, had immediately taken hold. She had even gone so far as to request plenty of fall and night-blooming flowers be included in the garden. A request Giles was all too happy to comply with. Knowing that the gardens would be looking particularly spectacular by the time their wedding rolled around had filled Buffy with a sense of accomplishment, further pushing her to join in Faith's wedding mania.
"How much further is it?" Willow pouted, throwing a questioning look at her best friend. "I feel like we've been walking all day."
"Maybe because we pretty much have been," Faith interjected.
Willow gave a pitiful whine.
Buffy nudged her shoulder good-naturedly and shrugged. "Maybe another twenty minutes."
"Why don't we have bicycles or something for these trips? Or better yet, a personal subway train," Willow groaned and then yelped in surprise when her girlfriend suddenly scooped her up into a bridal carry.
"That's awfully ambitious, don't you think, sweetheart?" Ruby asked with a wide grin. "Besides, it's good exercise!"
"I'm just envisioning the mega blisters my blisters are gonna have by the time we get home," Willow answered, sounding a little like a tired kid.
"Not on my watch! I'll just have to carry you."
Willow rolled her eyes with a small giggle, twining her arms around Ruby's neck more firmly as she snuggled against her shoulder. "I think I could get used to this vampire strength perk."
"It's a good one," Ruby answered, kissing her forehead as they continued walking.
Buffy watched them for a moment, happy they had found each other. She thought about her own very special vampire and a pang shot through her heart when she remembered Spike wasn't going to be there when she got home. She had been looking forward to snuggling up with him on the couch and had nearly forgotten he had made plans with Callum. She sighed, turning her thoughts toward alternative plans for the evening remembering the list of chores she had made for herself the day before.
Dishes, vacuuming, and laundry… yippee…
(*)
"Right, mate, here we are," Callum announced.
Spike grumbled as he pulled the protective blanket from over his head, he'd fallen asleep during the long drive and hadn't noticed the sun had set over an hour ago. He hauled himself up between the front seats to join Callum who was peering out the windshield of Callum's car now parked in front of the scrap yard.
It had taken them the better part of the afternoon to get there and Spike was really hoping it hadn't been a wasted trip. For a reason Spike couldn't fathom, they'd had a particularly difficult time hunting down the last couple of parts needed to get his bike back in working order.
"The fella who owns the place says he's got some parts that might work for you but we've gotta get'em ourselves. I don't know about you but I don't know much about motorcycles," Callum admitted, getting out of the car.
Spike followed him. "Bloke expecting us this late? Not gonna get attacked by some junkyard dog, are we?"
"I told him I'd be by late, after work. He should be here."
Spike gave a curt nod, opening the back door of the car and pulling out Callum's toolbox. "Lucky for you, I got a pretty good idea," he replied.
"Odd place ain't it?" Callum observed as the two of them neared the grimy glass door of the musty storefront set in the middle of nowhere.
"Depends what continent you're on," Spike replied, not bothering to elaborate.
Instead of the usual kiosk desk in what amounted to a guard shed that normally graced the entrance of such places. This place looked a little like it might've been a tiny old-fashioned cafe at one time but was now piled high with bits and bobs, parts of all kinds. Where tables might've once been situated along the wall by the front windows were now lined with deep shelves piled with everything from toasters and blenders to car parts.
A grizzled old man sat on a stool behind the short laminate-topped bar-turned counter. He ran thick fingers gnarled by age and a life of hard work through a bushy gray beard, eyeing them warily. "You the gents that called about the Triumph?"
"That's us," Spike confirmed.
The man gave a nod. "Don't know why you had to come so bloody late… so damn important…" the old man groused.
Spike raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Where's this bike you got, old timer?"
"Outback, got a couple of them actually. You give me the ten quid and you can have what you can haul out of here."
"Ten quid? You're sure, that's it?" Callum sputtered.
"M'boy's due to bring in a new load of scrap tomorrow. Figure even if you look like you could bench press an engine, tiny there won't get far and the two of ya certainly can't take much in that biscuit tin ya drove up in," the man answered, gesturing out the window to Callum's car.
Spike tried to suppress the grin forming on his face, thinking about how this fella would piss his pants if he had any idea who or what he was dealing with. "Yeah all right, fair enough, ten quid it is. Pay the man, Cal."
Callum shot him an annoyed look as he pulled out his wallet, slapping a ten-pound note on the counter.
The surly proprietor slipped it into the till then came around the counter, grabbing a cane as he did, and led them out through the gate surrounding the salvage yard.
"You'll find what you're looking for straight back and to the left. If ya hit the blue tarp you've gone too far. Have at it fellas," he said waving them through. "I'll be in the back if ya need anything."
Spike smirked, casting Callum a side glance as they strode deeper into the piles of scrap surrounding them. They passed a cluster of old household appliances and a tangled mountain of rusting bicycles, and several cars before they reached the motorcycles. Over a dozen bikes stood in a row along the back fence with a large pile of their mangled and broken kin piled up on the right. To the left was the big blue tarp they'd been warned to look out for.
"A regular treasure trove, ain't it?" Callum grinned.
Spike snorted. "Says the bloke who's never actually seen one."
Callum grunted, shifting forward, and grabbed hold of what looked like half an exhaust system. "Like you have?"
"More than you can imagine," Spike answered absently, examining the pile of parts and shifting through the pieces.
He moved over to the bikes along the fence finding a Triumph matching his own and the two of them soon got to work finding the parts they were after. Which essentially meant removing the entire middle section of the bike.
Between the two of them, they managed to get the section of the bike into the trunk of Callum's car. Callum whipped a hand across his brow as Spike secured the trunk with a length of rope.
"Glad that's done," Callum huffed.
"Quit your bellyaching, it wasn't that bad," Spike teased him good-naturedly. "Weakling."
"We can't all be superhuman, mate," Callum chuckled, reaching for his car door handle. He froze before opening the door when he noticed Spike heading back toward the fenced-in yard. "Oi, what're you doing?"
Spike cast an eye to him from over his shoulder. "Wanted to take a second look round, get your ten quid worth."
"Ah huh… and would you be lookin for anything in particular or just having a good nose about?"
"Yeah alright, I'll cop to it. I'm a bit curious bout what's under that tarp."
Callum rolled his massive shoulders, the seams of his thick canvas jacket straining slightly. "If the parts we got work out I'd say I've already got my money's worth. You owe me ten quid by the way."
Spike rolled his eyes. "No, I don't! You still owed me from the last poker game, we're even up now."
Callum rolled his eyes, nodding in defeat. "True enough. Still say you cheated somehow," he huffed as he followed Spike back through the labyrinth of discarded parts.
"Don't be a sore loser, mate," Spike grinned.
Spike pulled back the tarp revealing what appeared to be a nearly immaculate electric-powered golf cart and stepped back in surprise. "Well, that's a bit of a letdown."
Callum tilted his head with a smirk. "Not planning on taking up golf then?" he teased.
"Oh shut it, I—" Spike stopped short, grinning wickedly. "Oh, I think I've got an idea."
Callum closed his eyes as though praying for serenity and sighed heavily as he turned to look at his friend. "I'm afraid to ask."
Spike's grin widened. "Think we could rig something up to haul this thing back home?"
Callum gave an exasperated laugh, took a look around the scrap yard, and nodded. "Won't be pretty— or legal— but I think it can be done. What the hell do you want with it anyway?"
"Call it an excursion vehicle for the little woman."
"Since when does she drive?"
"Doesn't really, but it don't mean she can't. Besides, I'm thinking 'bout using it down in the tunnels."
"Yeah all right, can see that. Let's get it done then."
An hour and a half and a whole lot of swearing later, they had managed to rig up a crude towing system on the back of Callum's little car and manhandle the golf cart out into the parking lot.
Callum was just finishing up, tightening a bolt to hold the wonky contraption in place when Spike straightened, abruptly standing up from where he had been stooped over on the other side of the car. Callum glanced up to watch him sniffing the air. "What's—"
"Shhh—" Spike stopped him holding up a flat palm, brow furrowed, and sniffed again before turning yellow eyes and demonic features toward Callum. "Best get in the car, mate, think we've got comp—"
Callum spun around, taking a fighting stance with the wrench still clutched in his hand, eyes wide as a large hairy beast leaped out from a small clump of trees at the edge of the property. Amber eyes and an elongated snout with fangs bared shown brilliantly in the light of the full moon. The creature reared up onto its hind legs, large forearms ending in wicked-looking black claws as it let out a howl.
"Ohh, balls," Spike huffed.
"Friend of yours?" Callum asked, voice slightly higher than usual.
"Don't exactly run with the pack," Spike growled, making his way around the car.
But before Spike could get between them, the werewolf lunged toward Callum. Instinctively, Callum lifted an arm in defense, catching the beast by the throat and bringing the wrench down with a powerful swing that had little effect.
"Are you telling me this blighter is a bloody werewolf?!" Callum ground out bringing a leg up, kneeing it in the groin, and earning little more than a yip from the beast as Spike slugged it in the jaw.
"Looks like a werewolf, smells like a werewolf, must be a sodding werewolf!" Spike retorted, with a huff, kicking the beast in the side, catching its hip. The force of the kick spun the wolf around, knocking Callum down in the process and sending the wrench skidding across the ground.
The creature let out a howl of pain, doubling over. It took a beat to collect itself before launching at Spike. Spike gripped it by the forearms, black-tipped fingers gouging into the thick dark fur as the two of them grappled.
The wolf flung Spike to the ground pouncing on top of him, teeth bared in a snarl, drool dripping into Spike's face. "Get off me ya slobbering mut!"
The two of them were rolling around in the dirt and gravel when Callum pulled himself up using the side of the golf cart and flung himself onto the beast's back. He wrapped his legs around its waist as he worked an arm around the thick furry neck in a chokehold while Spike struggled to keep the wolf's jaws from ripping out his throat. Callum pulled back forcefully in a move that would have had many of his old opponents yelling in pain but only managed to piss the wolf off.
The werewolf pushed away from Spike, violently rolling and slamming Callum's back into the gravel below, knocking the wind out of him with the full weight of the creature slamming into his chest. The wolf rolled off of Callum, leaving him stunned and gasping for breath, eyes wide with pain.
Spike scrambled to his feet and in a flash tackled the wolf knocking it back several feet away from Callum.
The wolf growled in anger.
"That's the thing 'bout you lot, not even a hint of witty banter," Spike huffed, shifting his stance, squaring off against the beast. He kicked the wolf in the stomach. "Not your fault, I'm sure you're a sparkling conversationalist all but three days out of the month," he sniffed, wiping blood from the side of his face. "Looks like you picked the wrong night for an outing, mate," Spike added, punching the wolf in the jaw and following it up with another kick. The force of the kick slammed the wolf into the trunk of a tree. The werewolf let out a pitiful yelp of pain and ran off into the night.
"That's right! Who's the big bad?" Spike crowed in triumph.
A wheezing sound coming from behind pulled him back and Spike spun on his heel rushing back toward Callum. He had managed to roll himself over onto all fours, heaving in breaths before righting himself, sitting back on the souls of his boots.
"You alright?" Spike asked in concern.
Callum inhaled deeply through his nose, wincing. "Think so… Might've bruised a few ribs—" he coughed.
Spike pinched his lips into a fine line, extending a hand down. Callum accepted it, cradling his free arm around his ribs as he let Spike pull him up.
He coughed again. "Damn, that thing came out of nowhere."
Spike continued to eye his friend with concern. "Why didn't you get back in the car like I said?"
Callum's brow creased. "That's some thanks. Thought you needed the help."
"I'm already dead, you nit! It's not about to turn me into a furry slobber factory, but it might've just done you!"
"What are you on about?"
"Get in the sodding car we got to get you back. With any luck maybe Red can still do something if we hurry," Spike said, sidestepping Callum's question and getting in the car, closing the door with more force than necessary.
Callum winced again as he settled in his seat. He clutched his keys in his hand, glaring at Spike with an icy gaze. "What aren't you saying?"
Spike eyed him. "Know you're hurt. Can smell blood. It's not mine and it's not gamey enough to be Furry's, gotta be you, mate."
Callum frowned as he ran a hand over his neck and face, feeling nothing. Next, he examined the arms of his jacket. The first only bore traces of dirt from their struggle, but the second sleeve was a different story. A large red smear of blood colored the heavy tan fabric running the length of the forearm.
He scrutinized the stain in bewilderment. The beast must have either scratched or bitten him, but he hadn't even noticed it during the fight.
Callum leaned forward in his seat, awkwardly removing his jacket to better assess the damage. There on the underside of his arm were several fresh, but relatively shallow puncture wounds. Unquestionably a bite mark.
"Bloody hell," Callum breathed in disbelief, "what do we do now?"
Spike pulled out his phone with one hand and tapped the steering wheel with the index finger of the other. "Now, we get back to the castle and I'm gonna wake a witch."
"What about Faith?" Callum asked, his face unusually pale in the darkness.
Spike shrugged and tapped the steering wheel again. "She's always struck me as a dog person, think you'll be alright. Now—You gonna drive or am I?"
Callum shot him a scathing glance. "Over your dead body."
"Thought as much," Spike answered with a tight grin as Callum started the engine and Spike flipped open his phone, dialing Willow's number.