Chapter 6
Buffy opened the door to the basement and walked down the steps, the basket of dirty clothes held in front of her. Since finding out about her mom’s health problems, she’d been trying to help out more around the house. It had been that thought in mind that had made her decide to move back home in the first place.
The stairs creaked beneath her feet, unwittingly waking the vampire who’d been zonked on the cot.
“Buffy?”
The basket in her hand went flying and she almost followed it. Only her quick reflexes enabled her to grab onto the rail at the last second.
“Spike?!”
Spike jumped up from the cot, eyeing the Slayer’s clothes scattered all over the floor. He averted his eyes from the tiny scraps of unmentionables, not wanting to appear a pervert, instead concentrating on her. Her heart was hammering away inside her chest and an apology was already forming on his lips.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sorry, Buffy,” he said at the same time. “Your mum said I could crash here. Had a run in a few hours ago with your boy to– erm… boyfriend.”
“Riley?”
“Yeah.”
“What was Riley doing at your crypt?”
“T’weren’t the crypt. Rupert and I were trying to decipher the Mayan drawings at his shop. He showed up there, looking for you. Didn’t seem too happy to see me. So, I figured I’d bed down here, let him cool off a bit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay. I just thought I was home alone. You know, Dawn at school, mom at work.”
She came down off the steps and started to pick up the clothes lying about, replacing them in the hamper.
“Should I wait… you know… to run the washer. Is it going to disturb you?”
Not nearly as much as the thought of being home alone with you does, he thought.
“Nah. I’m good. Passions is getting ready to come on anyway.”
“You watch soap operas?”
“It’s a bloody good show, pet. Don’t knock it.”
“Uh huh.” Her tone implied she didn’t believe him.
“I’ll let you get started down here. You can join me upstairs… if you want.”
“Ok.”
“Have you eaten? Can I fix you something?”
Buffy turned away from the washing machine to stare incredulously at the vampire.
“You cook?”
“A bit. But, it’s not too hard makin’ a sandwich… or whatever.”
“Yeah… okay. Ham sandwich?”
“Lettuce, tomato, cheese?”
“Don’t forget the pickles.”
“Ah… right. Pickles. See you upstairs then.”
Buffy stared at his retreating back, just now realizing that he wore nothing but a pair of jeans. Who would have figured that his duster hid such salty goodness? It should have been against the laws of nature for a vamp to look like that – hard angles and wiry muscles – and not an ounce of fat to be seen.
She should have guessed, given how she’d damn near slept on top of him back when they’d been trapped for the rest of the afternoon inside that Mayan temple.
‘Bad thoughts, Buffy. You have a boyfriend,’ she reminded herself.
One who was increasingly getting on her nerves, true. But… he was still her boyfriend. For the time being. Though if she were to find out that Riley was going behind her back to mess with Spike against her express wishes, it was a strong possibility he was going to quickly wind up in the ex column.
~*~*~*~*~
“This isn’t half bad,” Buffy commented around a mouthful of food, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Told you it was a good show.”
“I meant the sandwich. But, the show’s not half bad either. With you, one can never be too sure. Especially given your taste in music.”
“What’s wrong with my bloody taste in music?”
“It’s bloody awful,” she teased.
“No worse than that milk toast, boy band, I-wish-my-voice-would-change shite you listen to.”
“N’sync has some good songs.”
Spike snorted.
“Please. Bunch of preppy mama’s boys that think a few hip thrusts constitutes dancin’. Maybe if they had their own music and quit samplin’ everyone else’s I might be inclined to agree that they’ve got a decent set of pipes… a few of them anyway.”
“You’re just jealous because people can actually dance to my kind of music. Whereas your type just slams into one another and thinks it’s fun.”
“Nothin’ wrong with a bit o’ violence now and then.”
“I’ll save the bloodshed for cemeteries and the like, thank you very much.”
A knock at the front door interrupted their debate. Buffy got up and answered it, shocked to see who stood on her porch.
“Riley!” she gasped.
“Buffy! Hey.” he greeted, stepping inside and enveloping her in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Uh… I… uh…” she patted his back, hoping he didn’t pick up on her lack of enthusiasm. Now if she could only get him to let her go…
She could hear Spike dart behind the couch, trying not to be seen.
“Hey…. I was just getting ready to go to the Magic Box to see how Giles was coming with that translation. Come on… you can join me.” She pulled his arm, dragging him back out the front door, and far away from where Spike hid in her living room. Explaining his presence wasn’t something she wanted to get into just yet – though, it would have to happen, and soon.
“Aren’t you going to get the TV?”
“Oh… yeah… one sec.”
She flew into the house and nearly broke the television she punched the off button so hard. Spike was ducked down behind a table in the corner and she paused long enough to give him a half-hearted smile before darting back out the front door.
“Uh… Buffy… your shoes?” Riley commented.
“Oh! Right! Shoes.”
When she returned the second time, an overly-bright smile on her face, Riley was looking at her quizzically.
“Are you alright, Buffy?”
“I’m fine! A little hyper from all the sleep, I think. That and the super strong pot of coffee mom made. Maybe I’ll make use of the training room, get rid of some excess energy.”
“I could help you with that…”
“No! I… I’m…that is… you know….”
She gave him a pained look which Riley easily translated as her “I’m on my period” face. He shuddered, unable to keep the revulsion from twisting his features. It squicked him out just thinking of doing that when she — and then the blood. Ugh.
“Sorry…” She shrugged her shoulders, not sorry in the least.
It was a quiet walk to the Magic Box.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the Slayer and the ex-soldier move off down the walkway. It grated that he had to hide like some coward because he couldn’t properly defend himself, and not for the first time he wished the chip would quit working.
It wasn’t like he’d go back to killing. Having realized his feelings for the Slayer, he didn’t want to put her in the position of having to stake him. She’d suffered enough when Angelus made a return appearance and reduced her life to a living hell.
But he was tired of seeming like a wuss in her and the other’s eyes. With his rocks back, he could tell Captain Cardboard a thing or two. Could tell all of them that William the Bloody was back and was through being mocked and ridiculed.
No more kick the Spike.
He flopped back onto the couch and reached for the remote. He still had time to kill yet before he was due back at the watcher’s shop.
Not even a minute had passed before he stood and turned off the television a smirk twisting his lips. Nothing said he couldn’t go back early.
And since the Slayer was going to be there, she could keep Soldier Boy in line and away from him.
Smiling, he hurried down to the basement to grab his discarded clothes.
~*~*~*~*~
“Oh! Buffy! Hello.”
“Hey, Giles.” Buffy took in his haggard appearance and frowned. “Have you been up all night?” she asked him once she reached the table.
“Er… yes. I was going to go home once Spike left, but then the Council rang…”
His ominous tone had the Slayer wincing.
“Maybe you should sit down,” he urged.
“What is it?”
“The Council… Buffy, Glory isn’t just a demon. She’s a god.”
It was a good thing she was sitting, or she would have collapsed upon hearing her watcher’s words.
“A god?” she whispered.
“I’m afraid so. It was probably why she was able to… uh…”
“Kick my ass so easily?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m sorry, Buffy. I know the news comes as a bit of a shock.”
Giles began to ramble on, telling her what he could about the origins of Glory. Buffy wasn’t listening. Instead her mind was occupied with thoughts of Dawn and her mom – and how she wasn’t going to be able to protect them. It became too much for her to deal with, and she escaped to the training room while Giles was in mid-speech, locking herself inside.
Ignoring the repeated banging on the door, and Riley’s demands to be let in.
~*~ *~*~*~
“What’s goin’ on?” Spike asked of Giles, having entered from the rear door and witnessed Riley’s belligerent pounding on the training room door.
“The Council’s rung back. They’ve not been able to come up with anything other than to confirm our earlier findings. I just… informed Buffy. She’s…”
“In denial?” Spike ventured to guess.
“Yes… I suppose so.”
“Well, then I guess we need to get workin’ on that translation. Didn’t suffer sunlight to my brain for nothin’. Figure there’s somethin’ in those pictures that tells us how to defeat her.”
“Yes, of course.”
The two attacked the translation with renewed vigor, keeping at it long after Riley had left in a huff. Truth be told, with his incessant banging now silenced, they were able to concentrate much better. Then came the distinct sounds of the Slayer training; the men shared a look, silently vowing to find the means to take down the creature that threatened Buffy and those she held dear.
~*~*~*~*~
“It can’t be that simple,” Giles commented some time later.
The shop had closed and Anya had left with Xander when he’d come by to pick her up. There’d been a brief confrontation when the boy had seen Spike sitting next to Giles, his head buried in one of several books littering the table.
Giles had been almost harsh in his demands that Xander cease and desist with his derogatory remarks. The boy’s dramatic departure had caused the other to roll his eyes in bemusement. Spike hadn’t even spared him a glance, too involved in deciphering the pictures that were now blurring before his eyes.
Buffy had gone home as well at the urging of Giles, citing her need to visit with her mother – to make sure that she was feeling alright. She’d balked at first, but then Spike had asked if she could have Joyce make up a batch of hot cocoa and bring it back later before she began her patrol.
“Could use a jolt of caffeine, and I can’t abide that swill you lot pass off as coffee,” he’d told her.
She’d reluctantly agreed, and the shop had gone quiet after her departure, only the occasional sound of pages being turned and notes frantically scribbled down on paper interrupting the silence.
“Rather doubt it is, Rupert. This just says that she can’t sustain being present in this dimension indefinitely and needs a human host. I’m sure she’d strong enough to make it bloody difficult for us to figure out who it is.”
“Yes… yes, of course. What do you propose we do?”
The question shocked him. The watcher was actually asking his opinion? Spike felt something swell in the region of his heart, and he sat there for a minute trying to decipher what he was feeling. He glanced over at the man, checking to make sure it was an honest question and not some snide remark. The only thing he saw on Rupert’s face was genuine concern. He covered his pleasure that he was actively being solicited for help by a man, who a few days ago, merely tolerated his presence by leaning back in his chair and pretending to contemplate the question.
“We’re gonna have to draw her out somehow.”
“Like… bait.”
Spike thought of the Slayer, and how whipped she’d been after her first altercation with Glory.
“Yes,” he agreed, though he hated to do so. “If we keep her distracted long enough, we can watch her change back to her human host. I think between the two of us, me and Buffy can—”
“Get yourselves killed,” Giles finished.
“You got a better idea, Rupert? I’m all ears.”
Giles pulled of his glasses and tossed them onto the table. He rubbed wearily at his eyes in an attempt to ease the headache he could feel growing – thanks to their current situation and his lack of sleep.
“Unfortunately, no… I don’t,” he finally allowed.
“I’ll keep an eye on her, and if it seems like Glory’s getting the upper hand, we’ll beat a hasty retreat.”
“And pray Glory doesn’t come after you.”
“Goes without saying…”
Their plan was put on hold when Buffy called them, frantic, stating that she was at the hospital with Dawn, that Joyce had had another fainting spell – this one lasting a lot longer than the last.
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