Chapter 6
“My cup is empty to-night,/Cold and dry are its sides,/Chilled by the wind from the open window./Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight./The room is filled with the strange scent of the wisteria blossoms./They sway in the moon’s radiance/And tap against the wall./But the cup of my heart is still,/And cold, and empty./When you come, it brims/Red and trembling with blood,/Heart’s blood for your drinking;/To fill your mouth with love/And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.” ~Amy Lowell, “Absence”
Spike didn’t broach the topic of the party until they were settling into their hotel room for the night. Wesley turned to stare at him. “You what?”
“I’m going to a Halloween party with Buffy, and you’re invited,” Spike replied. “Costume required.”
Wesley snorted. “Very funny, Spike.”
“I’m serious,” Spike said. “Look, the last time I told you to go out and have fun, you spent your time researching the history of Sunnydale.”
Wesley shrugged uncomfortably. “I found out where the gem was, didn’t I?”
“That’s not the point,” Spike replied. “The point is that you wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you in the arse.”
Wesley sighed. “Spike, I hardly think that spending an evening at a Halloween party with people who despise me constitutes fun. I am not a glutton for punishment, whatever you might believe.”
“They don’t despise you.”
“Please.” Wesley looked over at him. “They think I’m useless.”
“You were useless,” Spike retorted. “You’re not anymore. You want them to think differently of you? You’ll have to do something about that.”
“What’s the point?” Wesley demanded.
“Remember what I said about introducing you to my sources?” Spike asked. “It’s the same principle.”
Wesley didn’t like what he was hearing. “You’re speaking as though something is going to happen to you.”
“Better safe than sorry,” was all Spike would say.
Wesley sighed. “I’ll go to the party if you insist.”
“I do,” Spike said. “It’ll be good for you.”
~~~~~
Buffy took Spike at his word, slipping into the empty townhouse in the early afternoon. Willow was with a study group, getting ready for the last of her midterms, and Buffy had just wanted to get away from the campus.
She wondered how much trouble she’d have convincing Spike to wear the costume she’d gotten for him. From the little he’d told her of his past, and the scant bits of information Giles had been able to give her, Buffy had managed to figure out when Spike had been turned.
One of the costume shops in town had had what she wanted, so she’d paid the rental fee, hoping that Spike wouldn’t turn her down cold. Buffy just thought that it would be kind of fun to dress up as a Victorian couple for the evening.
Minus the corset, anyway. It might be Halloween, and therefore unlikely to require much slaying on her part, but she wanted to be able to breathe.
Briefly, Buffy wondered if Spike had asked Wesley to come, and what he would wear if he did tag along. It seemed strange for the ex-Watcher to be accompanying them to a party with a bunch of people years younger, but then again, Spike probably felt the same way.
Not for the first time did Buffy wonder about the difference in age, and what it was going to mean for the future. If she stuck college out, she had another three and a half years to look forward to, although she probably wouldn’t live on campus the entire time. In fact, after this year, she would see if Spike minded her moving in with him.
When she’d been with Angel, Buffy hadn’t thought about that sort of thing. It had been enough that they were in love, because love conquers all.
Then he’d lost his soul, and Buffy had learned what a lie that was.
Now, Buffy knew that she and Spike loved each other, and that they had a good shot at making things work, but there were times when the doubt ate at her. When she wondered how all of this was going to work out in the long run.
The thought of losing him, though…
She turned at the sound of the garage door opening. “Buffy?”
“I’m in here,” she replied, coming out of the living room.
Spike wrapped her in his arms, and Buffy could smell cigarette smoke and leather. “Hey.”
“Hey there.” Their chaste embrace turned heated when he met her lips with his own.
“Tell me we don’t have to be anywhere,” Spike said.
Buffy pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, feeling suddenly desperate for him, to feel him. “We don’t have to be anywhere. Party’s tomorrow night. We’ve got twenty-four hours.”
“Good. It might take that long,” Spike replied.
~~~~~
Harmony knew she hadn’t had a prayer against the guys who grabbed her. They had all been bigger, and they’d shot her with a taser before she’d had a chance to run.
She had no idea where she was, but the blood that kept dropping from the ceiling tasted kind of funny, and she was beginning to feel really claustrophobic. There weren’t any personal grooming tools available, and she wanted her makeup bag and a chance to get cleaned up like nobody’s business.
Her favorite stuffed unicorn would have been nice to have, too.
There was a demon in another cell across the way from her, and Harmony had spoken to the vampire on one side a couple of times. She’d noticed that the soldiers would sometimes pass with a demon or a vampire on a gurney, unconscious.
Harmony hadn’t seen them bring anyone back yet.
The first day she’d yelled plenty, trying to tell them that they’d made a mistake; that she hadn’t done whatever it was they thought she’d done. The vampire next to her had laughed, telling her that the only thing she’d done was to be a vampire.
So then she’d started yelling about how it was discrimination, and they’d better let her out or she would sue them. Harmony knew that it was an idle threat, but people usually listened to her dad when he said the same thing. It wouldn’t hurt to try the technique herself.
Harmony had no idea how long she’d been in this strange prison. She’d lost track of the days, after the first couple. It was kind of disturbing not knowing what time it was, or what day it was. She wanted nothing more than to be able to go home.
Harmony had never felt so helpless in her life.
~~~~~
“You have got to be kidding me,” Spike said flatly when he saw the costume. “I’m not wearing that.”
Buffy frowned. “Why not? I thought it would be fun.” She held up her dress. “See? It’s not any worse than what I’m wearing.” The stubborn expression on his face remained. “What’s the real problem, Spike?”
“Nothing,” he replied, knowing that if he kept making a fuss, Buffy would insist on knowing what had put his back up. “It’s fine. I’ll wear it.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, mister,” Buffy said. “You freaked when you saw that costume. What’s up?”
“It’s nothing,” he repeated, stripping off his jeans and heading for the shower.
Spike heard the door open a few minutes later. “That exit would have been a lot more effective if you’d locked the door, you know.”
“Buffy—”
She slipped in behind him, putting her arms around his waist. “You know as well as I do that this shower isn’t big enough for two people, but here I am anyway. Will you at least tell me what it is you won’t tell me?”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Spike muttered.
“Ballpark idea?”
“Figured you already knew that I wasn’t much as a human, Buffy.” Spike sighed, twisting in her embrace. “It’s not a time I like to remember.”
She winced. “I’m sorry, Spike. I just thought it would be fun. I thought it might be cool to dress up like the girls you liked back then.”
“If you were a girl I liked back then, you wouldn’t have given me a second’s notice,” Spike replied dryly.
Buffy stared at him in disbelief. “Spike, I know you can’t see yourself in a mirror, but you’re gorgeous. You can’t have changed that much.”
“More than you know,” he murmured.
She set her jaw. “Just because those other girls were too stupid to know a good thing when they saw it doesn’t mean I would be. I’ll bet I’d have been head over heels.”
Spike’s face softened, even as he raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That right? Took you long enough to fall for me in the first place.”
“Grief has a tendency to short circuit a person’s brain,” she replied.
“Know how that can be,” he acknowledged.
Their shower turned into a game to see who could get clean the fastest, and who could hog the most hot water, considering that it would only hit one of them at a time.
Spike felt strange as he put on the Victorian garb. It was like putting on the skin of a man he’d long since outgrown. He fumbled with the neck cloth, trying to remember how to tie it properly without the benefit of having a mirror. “Buffy, I—” He stopped, his memories assaulting him as he saw her in the Victorian dress, reminiscent of another time. Of another girl, who had turned him down so cruelly.
“You look really good,” she commented softly, reaching up to straighten out his cravat. “Very handsome.”
“You look amazing, luv.” There she was, checking him over. In another time, another place, they might have been married. It did something to him, to be in this clothing, to see Buffy dressed as she was.
She touched his cheek. “So you’re not mad at me for picking out these costumes?”
“No, I’m not.” Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “We’d better go. Wes is going to be waiting for us.”
“Let’s go, then.” Buffy smiled at him. “They might have been blind, Spike, but I’m not.”
Spike didn’t have to ask who she was referring to.
~~~~~
Wesley shifted uncomfortably. “Who are we meeting?” he asked, resisting the urge to tug at his collar. The fact that neither Spike nor Buffy had laughed at his costume should have been reassuring, but Wesley was still unsure about this whole thing. He wasn’t the party-going sort.
“Relax, Sherlock,” Spike said. “We’ve got two more couples on the way. They’ll meet us at the frat house.”
Spike and Buffy were walking ahead, Wesley trailing them like a disconsolate third wheel. The tweed he was wearing, along with the cape and hat he’d been able to locate on such short notice, were hot and itchy. Late October in California bore no resemblance to the cooler temperatures of his native England. What he wouldn’t give for a gloomy day.
Wesley heard a noise behind them, and he turned to look. Four men were crossing the path, all of them dressed in black and wearing masks. Even though it was Halloween, and it was entirely conceivable that they were planning on attending the very same party—or another just like it—the sight triggered his suspicions. They didn’t move like college students on their way to a party, and Wesley opened his mouth to say something to Spike.
He stopped, seeing Spike lean in and whisper something into Buffy’s ear, causing the Slayer to giggle. Wesley’s stomach twisted as he wondered if Spike was talking about him, and all thoughts of the strange men were blocked by his own insecurity.
“Wes!” Spike looked over his shoulder. “You coming or not?”
Wesley quickened his pace, although it was more because he didn’t want to broadcast his concerns across the entire campus. “I don’t know that this is a good idea,” he said. “What if there’s an emergency? One of us ought to be on duty, and really, I don’t mind.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You know, Wesley, as much as I appreciate the offer, it’s Halloween. Do yourself a favor and loosen up.” He appeared so affronted by her suggestion that she rolled her eyes. “And I would be saying that to Willow in this situation, too. In fact, I think I have said the same thing to Willow.”
“What exactly are we doing?” Wesley asked, wanting to get the focus off of his inability to have a good time.
“Haunted house,” Buffy replied. “Oz said it’s pretty decent, although I’m expecting to be more amused than scared. It’s kind of hard to take a haunted house seriously after you’ve watched the Mayor turn into a big snake.”
Wesley fervently hoped that he wouldn’t do anything to embarrass himself. “Right.”
“The party upstairs is what’s worth seeing, according to Oz,” Buffy continued. She glanced over at Spike. “We don’t have to stay for long if you don’t want to. I know it’s a college scene.”
“Let’s just see how it goes,” Spike suggested. “We’ll play things by ear.”
~~~~~
Joyce bit her lip to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up. Giles looked so pleased with himself that she didn’t want to break it to him that he looked absolutely ridiculous. “You look festive.”
Giles hesitated and then removed the big sombrero. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
“Well, I don’t know about too much,” she replied.
Giles knew when she was hiding something from him. “I thought it would be fun. You’re bound to have children come by tonight.”
She didn’t say that she’d had every intention of leaving the porch light off, but Giles had the costume, and Joyce had bought candy, which meant that she really didn’t have a good excuse for avoiding the trick-or-treaters, even if she wanted to. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” Joyce headed into the kitchen, sensing Giles right behind her.
It was still strange. Giles still had his apartment, as he’d said, but he spent nearly every night with her now. There was a part of Joyce—a very small part—that missed the silence of an empty house. She’d only just begun getting used to Buffy being gone. A part of her wanted to see what it would have been like to live completely alone for longer than a couple of months.
At the same time, it was so nice to wake up next to someone in the morning, to be able to watch television at night and look up to see another person there. It felt right to bicker over groceries, and what they should have, to feel lips and hands at unexpected and not pre-arranged times.
In many ways, it was better than anything Joyce had ever experienced with Hank. She felt bad thinking that, in a way. While her first husband hadn’t been perfect, he hadn’t been a villain either. Looking back now, though, Joyce had to look through the fights, the attempts to stay civil during the divorce, the look of disappointment on Buffy’s face when her father let her down.
Joyce had loved Hank, and she couldn’t regret that, not when she’d gotten Buffy out of the deal. Now, however, with Giles, there was a mutuality to their relationship, brought about by time, and age, and possibly a little wisdom.
Oddly enough, when Giles put on that silly sombrero, it only made her love him more.
“You know, we could turn the porch light off,” Giles offered.
She laughed. “After you went to all that trouble to dress up? I don’t think so.”
Giles sighed. “A man can try, I suppose.”
“It was a very good try.” Joyce smiled at him. “Are you hungry? I could make us something.”
“Why don’t you let me cook tonight?” he suggested. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”
She sat down gratefully, watching as Giles started pulling foodstuffs out of the fridge. There were actually quite a few reasons that she loved him.
~~~~~
They weren’t waiting long. Willow and Oz were the first to join them, and the redhead beamed at Buffy and Spike. “You guys look great!” Then, glancing at Wesley, she added, “Oh, so do you, Wesley.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, beginning to think that he had made a huge mistake.
Spike shrugged. “It was Buffy’s idea, so she gets all the credit—or the blame.”
Buffy gave him a dirty look and swatted him on the chest. “Thanks so much.” She grinned at Willow. “You look good, too, Will. Who are you again?”
“Joan of Arc,” Willow said proudly.
Spike raised an eyebrow, looking over at Oz, who didn’t appear to be in costume at all. “And you, mate?”
Oz pulled aside his flannel shirt to reveal a nametag that read: “Hello, my name is: God.”
“Joan of Arc had a very close relationship with God,” Willow supplied.
Spike snickered. “Where’s Harris?”
“Right behind you, actually,” Xander said. “Anya’s coming. She said she was going to be a little late.”
“Do you think we should go ahead?” Willow asked. “I’m in the party mood.”
Xander shrugged. “I don’t know. You guys can go ahead. I can wait here for her.”
“By the way, what are you supposed to be?” Buffy asked. Xander was wearing a tux, but that didn’t give her a lot to go on.
“Bond. James Bond,” Xander replied, trying to sound suave and not quite making it. “I figured if we got caught in some freaky Halloween spell again, I’d at least end up somebody cool.”
“Either that or you’ll end up being head waiter-guy,” Buffy pointed out, amused.
Xander sighed. “Yeah, that would be just my luck.” He glanced around, looking for Anya. “Why don’t you guys go on ahead? We’ll catch up.”
Spike leaned in towards Buffy as they walked away. “What did he mean by the ‘freaky Halloween spell?'” he asked. His imitation of Xander wasn’t too bad.
“Where did you learn how to do an American accent?” Buffy asked.
Spike shrugged. “There are times when the accent makes you stand out when you want to blend in. You’re not answering me.”
“Oh, this guy, Ethan Rayne did a spell.” Buffy shrugged. “Remember the band candy?”
“Yeah,” Spike replied with a grin.
“It was like that, only worse.”
“Worse?”
Willow, who had been following the conversation with amusement, added in, “Buffy means it was worse because she was affected.”
“Affected how?” Spike asked, his grin growing.
Willow shrugged. “She dressed up like an 18th century woman, and that’s pretty much how she acted. It was very un-Slayer-like. Oh, and I was a ghost. That was weird.”
“You were a gorgeous ghost,” Oz murmured.
Willow looked puzzled. “I don’t remember seeing you.”
“I was driving the van, and you were walking across the street,” Oz replied. “I wanted to get to know you.”
Willow flushed, beaming at him. “I have the best boyfriend in the world.”
“I think I’d have to argue with you over that one,” Buffy said.
And Wesley trailed them inside the frat house, now feeling like a fifth wheel.