Chapter 15
“It’s a school night, Buffy,” Joyce said, leaning in the doorway of Buffy’s room.
Buffy sighed and blotted off excess lipstick from her lips with a tissue. “It’s Sunday.”
“That means that you have school tomorrow, so it’s a school night.”
Buffy closed her eyes and tried to calm down. “Mom, I told you about this yesterday and you didn’t have a problem with it.”
“That was before I knew you were going on a date with Spike!”
“It’s not a date.” She walked into her closet and pulled out her heels, her short black pleated skirt, and her cute white cowl-neck sleeveless top and laid them on the bed.
“It’s not!” she said again, sitting down and grabbing her body lotion from the nightstand and rubbed some onto her bare legs.
“Dinner and a movie is a date, Buffy. I may be old but I’m not an idiot. And you curled your hair.”
“I did not. It’s…tousled naturally. That hardly implies actual work with a curling iron.”
She stepped into her skirt and slid it on beneath her bathrobe. Once she was completely dressed, she checked her reflection in the mirror of her vanity. She turned back around, holding her arms out wide. “What does this outfit say to you? Mortal enemy or let’s be friends?”
“It says thank you for taking me on a date on a school night, vampire.” Joyce folded her arms authoritatively and pursed her lips. “And don’t you think that skirt is a little too short?”
“Hello, that’s why I don’t wear it at school,” Buffy said, missing the point entirely. She turned around and smoothed her hands down her torso as she checked her reflection a second time. She needed more mascara on her left eye.
“But it’s perfectly acceptable for a first date?”
She set her mascara down after she touched up her lashes. “Exactly!”
“Aha! So it is a date!”
Caught, Buffy hurried to walk past her mother and go downstairs to wait for Spike. Joyce followed after her. “We’re just going to hang out for a while. I’ll be home before you know it!”
Joyce grabbed her daughter by the arm and turned her around to face her. Buffy rolled her eyes impetuously. “What?”
“Buffy, I just don’t understand why you have to date these vampires. Why not date a nice young man like that Xander boy you hang out with?”
“Ew, Mom, that’s disgusting. He’s like a brother. And Xander totally cheated on his girlfriend. Is that what you want? You want your daughter to date a cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater?”
“Don’t use nursery rhymes to cute your way out of this, young lady. I’m still your mother and I think this is a bad idea. Studies show that if you date in the work place, it will only lead to bad things.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. “Uh huh.”
“I mean it.” Realizing that her daughter wasn’t going to budge, she tried another tactic. “You’re going to start college soon and be a grown up before you know it. Why can’t you just be a kid for a little while longer?” She ran her hand down the side of Buffy’s face and smiled sadly.
Softening to her mother’s touch, Buffy said, “I haven’t been a kid in years, Mom. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to be, not with slayer duties.”
Joyce let out an abrupt sigh. “That very well may be, but that doesn’t mean you have to lollygag with monsters.” She winced at her own words and smiled when she said, “That made me sound really old, didn’t it?”
“Just a little.” Buffy smiled. “I know you’re worried but I can take care of myself. And I thought you liked Spike. You had hot cocoa together.”
“I like the Grateful Dead, too, but that doesn’t mean I want them to date my daughter.”
“You like the Grateful Dead?”
Joyce blinked slowly. “You aren’t going to listen to me, are you?”
Scrunching her face cautiously, she said, “No?”
When Joyce sighed with a promise of one hell of a lecture on the horizon, Buffy hurried to say, “Mom, I hear everything you’re saying. I do. But you have to trust me on this one. There’s—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—but there’s more to Spike than meets the eye.”
“Those are the parts I’m most concerned about,” Joyce said with a knowing look. “When I think of everything Angel put you through—”
“Ok, first of all, Spike and Angel are totally not the same. At all. And…huh.” She frowned curiously, just then realizing the weight of what she’d said. “Well, look at that. I just had an epiphany.”
“I know they aren’t the same, but they’re both vampires! They both have the capability to put you in dangerous situations.”
“And if that were to happen, I’ll be fine. Look, I’ve got a stake in my purse and everything,” she said, opening up her purse to show her mother but the doorbell rang and they both turned their eyes to the door. “He’s here. Ok, go answer the door.”
Joyce gasped and sputtered as Buffy pushed her forward. “Buffy Anne Summers, I am not your maid. Answer the door yourself.”
“I can’t answer the door! I’ll look too eager. You have to do it.”
“Oh, for the love of…” Joyce rolled her eyes and walked to the foyer, mumbling under her breath that if her daughter was so adult and grown up, then she could answer the damn door. Then she flung the door open, fully prepared to scowl and give her motherly glare to Spike but found herself smiling and pressing a shocked hand to her chest. He stood on the porch wearing his black jeans and boots, trademark tee and red shirt but he’d swapped the duster for an ill-fitting sports jacket. He had a bouquet of flowers clutched in his left hand so tightly she was surprised the stems hadn’t snapped off and looked so nervous she couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Hello, Joy—Miss Summers.” He scratched his temple and smiled at her.
Teasing him a bit, she said, “Are those for me?” She pointed to the flowers in his hand.
“Uh…” He swallowed nervously but caught her teasing smile and he laughed, tossing a cocky smirk her way. “Very funny. Is Buffy here?”
“Come in, Spike,” she said as she stepped aside. Spike walked in and stopped abruptly as his eyes landed on Buffy. He certainly wasn’t holding back his attraction to her with the way his eyes ate her up. Joyce clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and whispered in his ear as she walked past him, “Your tags are showing.”
Confused, he looked at her with a frown and she yanked on his sleeve, pulling off the price tags that he’d forgotten to snip off. “Hope you have a receipt for that in case you have to return it. Looks a little big,” she said knowingly and Spike’s mouth opened in shock. She was a smart lady, that Joyce.
Buffy spoke too quickly for him to retort and Joyce was already gone. “You brought me flowers?”
Smiling shyly, he extended his arm to hand them to her. “Yeah, thought you liked lilies and they smelled nice so, y’know.” He shrugged and put his hands in his coat pockets once she plucked the bouquet from his hand.
“I do like lilies.” She smiled as she inhaled the sweet and fragrant aroma, shocked that he had been so thoughtful. “I’ll go put these in water and then we can head out.”
He nodded and she walked into the kitchen, unaware that Spike had tilted his head to watch her walk the short distance, very pleased that she wore a skirt.
Joyce was already filling up a vase with water at the kitchen sink when Buffy entered.
“Oh, thanks, Mom.” She handed her the bouquet.
“Mmhmm,” she said slyly. “He’s good.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s got the Eddie Haskell routine down pat, I’ll say that much.” She sighed and wiped her wet hands off on a towel before she extended her arms for a hug. Buffy quickly moved into her embrace and Joyce kissed her on the top of the head. “I guess I don’t have to tell you to be careful?”
“I like hearing it all the same.” She closed her eyes and hugged her for a second longer. “Love you.”
“Love you too, dear. Be home by nine thirty.”
“What?” Buffy’s eyes were wide in shock as she whipped around to face her mother.
“Kidding!” She raised her hands in surrender. “Remember that you’re a lady,” she called out to her as Buffy walked away. “And it’s a school night!”
“Ok, Mom, bye!”
“Bye, Miss Summers! She’s in good hands!”
“Oh Lord,” she said quietly, wiping down the kitchen counter with a towel.
* * * *
Spike and Buffy had eaten dinner and were driving in his DeSoto on their way to the movie theater. He was surprised that they were able to agree on a restaurant and that they’d actually had a conversation that wasn’t filled with nasty comments or insults. As it turned out, they had a lot of similar tastes in movies and spent the duration of the meal listing off their favorites enthusiastically.
But now they were in his car and they both grew silent, unsure of what to say. Buffy sat primly in her seat, looking out the window and Spike glanced at her every so often.
Taking the plunge, he said, “You really do look nice.”
She smiled gratefully. “Thank you. You look…like you hate that coat.”
“God, I do,” he said, laughing. Her smile grew and he shook his head in embarrassment. “Thought I’d try to look nice for you but I don’t pull it off very well. Sorry, love.”
“It’s just the wrong fit. I bet you’d look hot in a tailored suit.”
She said it so easily, so casually, that she didn’t even realize she’d complimented him or that it was the first time she’d admitted any attraction to him since the spell. Of course, it was the only thing Spike could focus on and he grinned boyishly.
“Here we are,” he said, removing his keys once he’d put the car in park. She placed her hand on the door handle and he quickly grabbed it and pulled it away. “What are you doing?”
“Opening the door?”
“No. You’re going to wait for me to open the door for you.”
“Do we have to go over this again? I told you when we left the house and again at the restaurant that you don’t have to do those kinds of things for me.”
Sighing through his teeth he sat back in his chair. “Is it so hard to let a bloke treat you like a lady?”
“Yes.”
“Will you—oh.” He stopped suddenly, anticipating an argument but she answered him honestly. “Why?”
“Because I can do things for myself! I don’t need some man doing little things for me like I’m a delicate creature who is too fragile to lift a finger.”
“Buffy. There’s not a woman on the planet that can pack a punch, kick a demon’s ass twice their size, or shove the fear of God into a vamp with only a glare like you can. I know you aren’t an invalid and that you are perfectly capable of opening a car door on your lonesome. But I was brought up to treat ladies with respect, and as a courtesy, a man should open a sodding door for them without getting his nuts ripped off because of some feminist mumbo-jumbo.”
“Feminist mumbo-jumbo? Excuse me for being independent! And if you’re so sure that it isn’t completely misogynistic, then why isn’t it the other way around? Why aren’t women supposed to open doors for men?”
“Because that’s degrading to women! We can open doors for ourselves and…” He trailed off when he caught her point. “Look, I get what you’re saying. But I don’t think you’re less than me because you’re a woman and therefore, I have to help you cross streets and open doors. I do it because I like to do it. Women are soft and gentle and smell nice and look so nice all the time that I just like to show a little thanks by helping out every once in a while. So, forgive me if I just want to treat you right and dote on you for a bit. Doesn’t mean that I don’t respect you as an equal.”Buffy sat silently, watching Spike’s thumb dig into the steering wheel as he picked at the torn rubber and she felt his agitation, how he was only trying to be a gentlemen and nothing more. She realized that she was acting a little bratty.“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m overreacting. If you want to open the door for me, then I won’t stop you.”He lazily turned his head towards her and cocked his eyebrow.
“I’m serious! I’m not upset that you want to open doors for me. I’m upset about something else and I took it out on you. So let’s just forget about it and go see the movie.”
“What are you upset about?”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Yes. We have to talk about this now. Can’t enjoy the hilarious dialog in Bride of Chucky with you angry about something.”
“This is going to sound bad before I get to the end so none of your barking interruptions.”
“I do not bark.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking very much like a boy wearing his father’s coat the way the too-large sleeves bunched up around the shoulders.
“All the same, no interruptions. I’m mad about the claim.” She pressed her fingers over his lips when he opened his mouth to speak. “No interruptions!” He grumbled and she sat back in her seat.
“I’m not mad at you and I know that we can’t really do anything about it. I just feel like everything was out of my control and even though we’re destined or whatever, I feel like all my independence was taken from me. You can sense whatever I’m feeling when we’re apart, you’ll always know where I am, and even my mortality depends on you. Don’t you see how this is a little hard for me to adjust to, being the kind of girl who can shove the fear of God into a vamp?”
He took a deep breath and nodded, understanding her point and deflating a bit that she wasn’t angry with him. “I get it. Not a walk in the park for me either, Slayer. Might be something I’ve always wanted but I know you don’t feel the way I—the point is, I understand.” He didn’t want to go there, not when she was being so open with him about how she was struggling and not when things had been going so well that night. If he started in on the sappy heartfelt confessions, she’d bolt. “I might not be ideal for you, but this situation isn’t one-sided. I can’t hide anything from you, either, and I certainly can’t be the big bad that I’ve been for over a century any more. We both have to adjust.”
She felt guilty that she hadn’t thought about how he might have problems with the claim as well, since she’d been too wrapped up in her own issues. “I guess I didn’t think about that. You just seem so cool with all of it that I figured it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? Sweetheart, I’m a wreck.” He popped his arms straight out in front of him and said, “Look at this coat!” Even with his arms outstretched, the sleeves fell almost to the tips of his fingers. They both started laughing and he used the opportunity to take the coat off and toss it in the back seat.
“Did you even try it on?”
His smile disappeared. He looked out the windshield. Then he cursed beneath his breath.
“I nicked it, all right?”
“Spike!”
“Adjusting!” He raised his eyebrows pathetically when she sighed but then she shook her head with a smile and he knew he was off the hook. “Paid for dinner, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. Thank you. Now come open this door for me so we can watch evil dolls murder people.”
He grinned happily and hurried to help her out of the car.
* * * *
The name Spike was inspired by driving railroad spikes through his victim’s bodies. He had done so with a smile on his face. He terrorized almost all of Europe with his violent greed for blood and mayhem. He’d killed more women and men than he could count, had seen more gruesome events than he cared to mention unless you asked him. He was a master vampire, could use just about any weapon you tossed his way and could use them well, wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything if they wanted a good brawl and if he ever was afraid, he had enough cock and bull to pull it off that he wasn’t.
For some reason, every last bit of that bravado was gone in an instant, turning him into a bumbling idiot when it came to Buffy Summers and her dainty little hand. The hand that was exactly three inches from his and resting on her bare knee. She watched the movie, completely unaware of his plight, or if she had sensed it, she didn’t let on.
But he was waging an internal war, wondering if it would be a mistake to reach out and hold her hand. They’d finished a bag of popcorn together and she was still nursing a large soda, but she kept it on her side. Was that a sign? Was she keeping her soda over there to open up the space between them should he want to hold her hand? Was it purely coincidence? What would happen if he did try and she pulled away?
But she smelled so lovely, her hair was gorgeous, and her thighs looked very silky smooth and fuck, he was hard. He had to calm down. She wanted to take things slow, get to know him, and he wasn’t going to ruin it by jumping the girl and burying his head between those silky thighs, tasting every inch of her delectable pussy, which he already knew quite well. He was still thinking about it!
“Fuck,” he said softly, rubbing the palms of his hands on his knees and groaning as he tried to get it together.
“Are you ok?” she whispered, leaning into him.
“Fine.” He smiled tightly and looked back at the screen. Her eyes were still on him and he tried to ignore it, hoping she’d look away, but she didn’t. He bounced his left leg anxiously, wondering how long she was going to stare at him. But then he was suddenly stunned as her warm fingers laced with his and she pulled his hand into her lap. He looked at her with a shocked smile but she turned away bashfully and he heard her heart beating faster.
With a happy sigh, he relaxed into his seat, unable to pay attention to the movie any longer as she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. By the end of the film, she was nestled snugly into his side with his arm slung around her shoulders. They sat through the credits like that and didn’t get up to leave until the house lights turned on.
They chatted easily, walking slowly to prolong their time together. If he hadn’t done it while she was in mid-sentence, Buffy would have blushed when he effortlessly slipped his hand in hers as they made their way to the car.
* * * *
Spike pulled up to Buffy’s house and killed the ignition. “Do you…want me to walk you up?”
He really was cute, Buffy thought, as he chewed on his lip uncertainly. She knew what that meant, that he would probably kiss her and she could possibly be the one to chew on those lips of his. He’d been so kind the entire night and hadn’t made one lewd comment about how she looked, nor had he made her uncomfortable. In fact, Buffy was pleased to admit that she and Spike had had a great time together and she was even looking forward to seeing him again. But kissing was bad. Kissing would probably remind her how good he was at it and how good he was at other things and she really did want to take things slow.
“Yes,” she said with a smile. She wasn’t crazy, though. Scared? Sure. But there was no way in hell she could pass up an offer like that and call herself sane. Besides, she could control herself.
She waited for him to run around the car to her side and open her door. He beamed at her as he offered his hand and helped her out of the car.
Once they were standing on her front porch, they stood awkwardly, as if they hadn’t been screwing one another’s brains out a little over a week ago. She clasped her hands behind her back and tried to look inviting. He licked his lips and smiled languidly at her.
“I had a nice time, Spike.”
“Me too.” He moved closer and swallowed loudly. He lifted one hand to her cheek and tilted his head as he stared at her mouth. “Would like to take you out again.”
She nodded, breathing heavily as he placed his free hand on her waist and pulled her closer. She closed her eyes right as he pressed his lips against hers. He was so gentle, his lips barely grazing hers and he moved his hand from her cheek to her neck. She felt him smile against her lips and then she moaned, clutching him to her as he dragged his thumb over the scar. He was torturing her with tenderness, sliding his tongue into her mouth as slow as honey, moving his hands over her back and arms so delicately that it sent shivers up her spine. The minute she tilted her head and raked her hands in his hair, wanting to deepen the kiss, he pulled away and kissed her on the forehead, keeping his arms about her waist.
“All done?” she asked with a whine.
He smiled arrogantly at her and then kissed her properly, sucking her lip into his mouth and moaning right along with her as their greedy hands dug into one another. He kissed the innocence right out of her just by humming the way he did when she pressed into him, by inhaling through his nose as if he wished to consume her, penetrating her mouth with that wicked tongue of his and teasing her by trailing his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. He tasted so good and smelled like heaven and why oh why had no one kissed her like this before?
Panting and dazed, she pulled back to look him in the eyes. His were glassy and content and his lips were a bit puffy though he was smiling at her.
“I should go inside before…”
He waggled his eyebrows and then bit his lip when she shoved him playfully.
“Good night, Spike.” She leaned against the door, using the doorknob to help her to stand when she realized her knees were wobbly.
“Sure you don’t want me to tuck you in?” He saw the flicker in her eyes, the tiny flash of desire and though he already knew her answer, just to see that was enough to last him lifetimes.
“I think I can handle it.” She couldn’t stop smiling and her cheeks were going to hurt the next day.
“All right. Good night, Buffy.”
“Good night, Spike.”
He smiled and ducked his head as he backed away from her, turning on his heels to skip down the porch steps and make his way to the car. He might not have done everything right, their evening might have stopped just short of getting naked, but he was perfectly fine with that. He knew that side of her already.
What he didn’t know, what he’d yet to experience in the hundred plus years of his life, was the feeling he had right at that moment. He had hope. Bushels of it, even. Destiny, claims, none of that mattered. She was letting him in, taking the time to do it naturally, just as she promised. And he couldn’t love her more if he tried. She belonged to him, and he to her, yeah. But he’d earn his right to call her his girl and by the way she smiled at him from the doorway when he got into his car, he didn’t think it would take very long.
He turned on the radio once he started up the DeSoto and his grin turned devilish when “Way I Walk” by The Cramps came on.
“Damn good night,” he mused to himself. He lit up a cigarette, howled in time with the song, cranked up the volume and drove away with his arm dangling out the driver’s side window, catching the wind in his hand.
To be continued in the follow-up story, Power and Prophecy!!
Author’s Note: Yes, I’m writing a series! I made the executive decision about an hour ago after debating all night long that yes, I am turning this into a series. I’d written this chapter out and it felt complete, felt like the end to me, but I still had more story to tell, more things I wanted to say but it felt weird continuing from this point. I’ve decided that I’d much rather start a new story, picking up right where we left off here, and allow myself to dive in deep to the story I wanted to tell. Prophecies, the Mayor, Faith, Buffy and Spike dealing with their relationship, etc. Also, if you want to hear the song Spike listens to at the end of this chapter, I have a link Right Here. Might I suggest listening to it while re-reading the last two paragraphs and pretending that you have black-chipped nail polish and a cigarette in your mouth while driving in a DeSoto like a badass? It really helps the mood.
Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this story! It was a lot of fun to write, and also big thanks to Laura and Kristi for their help, encouragement and wonderful advice. I can never thank you enough!
Challenge/Ficathon Requirements:
Your story MUST begin with one of the following lines:
1) She’d gone as far as she could go; the door at the end of the hall was locked.
2) The sound of crunching bone was nothing compared to the man’s screams.
3) Her voice echoed down the dark corridor. There was no answer.
4) Though she couldn’t see him, she knew her words had rattled him.
5) It was the largest beast she’d ever seen, and she’d seen some large ones.
6) She knew the stench of blood.
7) It didn’t matter that she knew she could toss him across the room in a blink. He was so quiet. So tempered. So deadly. She knew well how he fought. Likewise, your submission must abide by the following:
Prompts (Choose one, but see if you can do all three)
– Giles endlessly searches for a spatula.
– Mention of the movie Howard the Duck.
– Xander must say the line, “Oh my God, that is huge!” in reference to a male character.
RULES
– Spike/Buffy is a must. This is a Spuffy community, after all. To not have this rule would be rather silly.
– Seasons 2-5. Season 6 and 7 are barred from this round because a lot of the provided lines would be easy to tack onto a Season 6 or 7 story, and we think it’d be more fun if you had to wrestle with it.
– AUs welcome, but keep it within a mystical world (i.e, one where vampires, et al still exist).
– Minimum length is 5000 words. Maximum length is up to you. If you want to write the hell out of this ficathon, we welcome it.
– You’re free to tackle as many of these starter-lines as you want. The more submissions we get, the happier we’ll be.