Chapter Ten
“And, I’ve been here ever since.” Anne finished, risking a look at his face. He had sat quietly while she talked, his eyes trained on her face, his hand drawing light circles on her arm. He was surprised that she had used his name, and it touched him. And, Xander had better pray that they didn’t meet face to face any time soon. He wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions.
“What were you afraid of?” He asked, twirling a strand of hair over his finger. She sighed heavily, sinking deeper into the curve of his arm.
“What wasn’t I afraid of?” She replied. “I think the biggest thing I was afraid of was fucking up. Again. I was given this gift. . .I won’t lie to you, when I first found out that I was pregnant, I was terrified. I spent the first month, crying. I was the Slayer, pregnant by a vampire. A soulless vampire to boot.” She felt his arm tense around her, and she reached for his hand. He wanted to know, he was going to have to hear it without freaking. “But, after the first sonogram, and I saw the little blip in the screen, I was amazed. This little life, was ours. It was you and me, and for whatever reason, the Powers, God, the Fates, I dunno, gave it to us. I didn’t want anything bad to touch it. Xander showing up and sprouting off his prejudice, no matter how grounded, just made it all real. If that was his reaction, then what would my mother’s or Giles’ be? I was even afraid of what Willow would say, and out of them all, she was the only one supportive of me and Angel.” He frowned at the mention of his sire, and involuntary image of Dru popping into his head. “As much as I loved them, I didn’t trust them with my son,” she said, guilt and shame lacing though her words.
“Your mum’s never seen him?” She shook her head, shifting so she looked at him fully.
“I’ve sent pictures. A month after Matt was born, Mark talked me into it.” Again, Mark. Spike was having a hard time controlling the jealousy that threatened to choke him.
“How come you and Mark never. . .?” he trailed off, leaving it open.
“How come we never got together?” Her hazel eyes searched his face, a soft smile touching her lips. His expression was a cross between fear, jealousy, and a deep vulnerability that she had never known was there. “Maybe I was waiting for something,” she whispered, shifting again until she was sitting on her knees, her torso pressed against his side. Their faces were close, her hand splayed against his chest. His arm slid around her waist, the implication of her words making his eyes darken to sapphire.
“What might that have been?” he whispered back. Their mouths hovered, inches from each other, their breathing quickened. He could hear her heart race, smell the blood speeding through her veins. His own reaction to her heat, her very essence, pressing tight against his jeans.
“You,” she gasped, finally closing the distance between them. This time, the kiss was different. They played instead of plundered, teased instead of tempted. Even though they had kissed before, this was the first done out of feeling, not physical reaction. And that made it sweeter, more intense. When they pulled back, they were clinging tightly to each other, tears of lost time sliding down their cheeks.
“I’m not gong anywhere, Buffy,” he told her quietly. “A stake through the heart is the only thing that will take me from you and Matt.” He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping the moisture away.
“Promise?” Her voice was small, her eyes hopeful.
“Promise.” Their mouths touched again, gentle whispers and caresses, barely there touches. When they separated again, she snuggled next to him, her head resting on his chest.
“There’s a carnival coming to town next week. Me and Mark take Matt every year.” She started, rushing through the rest. “Would you want to take us this year?”
“A carnival. With rides and stuff?” He clarified. The last one he’d been to he’d taken a bite out of a teenager that had consumed so much junk it nearly rotted his fangs. He didn’t figure she’d appreciate the memory.
“Yeah, and enough sugary goodness to keep the dentists in the area busy for the next six months,” she chuckled. He snorted, thinking that what she had said almost mirrored his own thoughts.
“It would be my pleasure.” He responded, his voice gaining a higher class accent than he normally used. She smiled, and stifled a yawn. Spike brushed his lips across her head, and nudged her a little.
“Think that’s my cue, kitten,” he said, and with a sigh, she sat up. “I’ll come by tomorrow?”
“Yeah. That’d be great.” She smiled shyly at him, biting her bottom lip.
“Til tomorrow, then.” He said, rising to his feet, pulling her with him. She followed him to the door, leaning in for his kiss once more. “Goodnight, Buffy.”
“Goodnight, Spike.” She watched as he walked to his car, leaning her body against the door. With a final wave as he pulled away, she closed it, and locked it, then went to get ready for bed, her happiness putting a bounce in her step.
~*~*~
Spike pulled into the parking spot in front of his room, his mind replaying the entire evening over and over. His son was so beautiful, so smart. He pushed open the door, a love like he had never felt blooming in his chest. And Buffy. . . Her warmth and light touched him in ways that he never thought possible. Slamming the car door closed, he was too enraptured in his thoughts of his family to hear the person behind him. Suddenly, he found himself on his knees, stars dancing behind his eyes, and pain slicing through his skull. He growled as another blow landed across his kidneys, leaving him sprawled across the pavement.
Several more blows followed in quick succession, and through the roaring in his head, he was able to make out another roar. The roar of a car engine, and the screeching of tires. Footfalls and yelling penetrated his mind, and he realized that the attack had stopped. He growled at the hand that touched him on his back, blinking rapidly to clear the spots. When Willow’s concerned face came into focus, he frowned.
“Wha. . .? ” He gasped, pushing himself up to his knees. He turned his head, rage beginning to burn bright as he took in the scene before him. Mark had Xander jacked up on the hood of a black, ’68 Camaro, his vampiric hearing picking out the words.
“What the hell did I tell you?” Mark growled. Willow looked on, fear evident in her eyes. Mark was bringing her home, (he had called out of work) and she had recognized Xander with a crowbar attacking the blonde from across the street. Mark had made the turn quickly, screeching to a halt behind the DeSoto, and jumped out before Willow had a chance to react. She had scrambled out and ran to Spike, relieved to see he had just been surprised and stunned. Now, he was already on his feet, in full game face, stalking towards the brunette men.
“Let him up, Tonto,” he snarled. Mark turned to glare at him, not fazed by the demonic visage of the vampire. He’d known what he was before, no need to act all girly now. Seeing the look in the vampire’s gold eyes, he let go, backing up to stand next to Spike.
“Don’t kill him. Anne wouldn’t like it. And don’t call me Tonto” was all he said as he stepped further back.
“Oh, I won’t kill him,” Spike said, advancing on Xander. “You want a piece of me, boy? Care to take me on now that my back isn’t turned?” he growled.
“Hello, vampire. Have to take any advantage I can get.” Xander sneered, sliding off the hood to his feet. Spike let out a bitter laugh, and shook back into his human features.
“Hey, I’ll even let you take the first shot.” He stood, arms held out at his sides, chin held at an angle to give the other man a good shot. Willow’s eyes darted between the three, alarm all over her face. Xander was standing in front of the car, still clutching the crowbar. Spike was in front of him, every muscle coiled to strike. And Mark was next to her, the look on his face making him seem just as dangerous as Spike. He was prepared to jump in should it get out of hand, and she wasn’t sure if she liked that idea. She tried to keep her eyes on all of them at once, waiting for the moment to send them in different directions if need be.
Xander looked at Spike, feeling some of his bravado slip now that he was actually faced with the pissed off vamp. He silently cursed Mark and Willow’s timing. He had planned on strike and retreat. Get the hell out of Dodge before Spike recovered enough to kill him. Now, he had a choice. Fight, and deal with the possibility of death. Or run. He didn’t care for the thought of running, so he fisted his hand around the crowbar and swung. The hit sent Spike’s head snapping around, a cut opening on his jaw. But, as he slowly turned back towards Xander, the man felt an icy finger of fear trail down his spine at the evil grin that was on the blonde’s face.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He said, in the second before his fist plowed into Xander’s stomach. The boy doubled over, his groan of pain filling the air. Spike grabbed a fistful of his hair, bringing his head up and slamming it back down onto his upraised knee. The satisfying crunch of Xander’s nose did nothing to alleviate the rage flowing through him, so he reached down to pick him up by the scruff of his neck. “Wanker,” he spat, cocking his arm back to send another punch flying. Before he connected, he felt himself flying through the air, the sound of Willow’s voice fading as he landed against the side of the hotel.
“Separate,” she cried, sending Xander careening across the hood of Mark’s car to the pavement on the other side, and Spike to the wall of the hotel. “Freeze!” This effectively immobilized them both. Mark watched the display with a mixture of amusement and awe. Spike was letting out a stream of colorful curses and Xander was groaning in pain from the concrete.
“That’s enough. Both of you,” she said, looking pointedly at Spike. He scowled, but nodded. She had allowed Spike his hits, feeling that Xander deserved them. However, she would not let the vampire decimate her best friend, no matter what he had done. It wasn’t physically fair.
“Let me down, Red. I’m done.” The look she gave him told him just how much she believed that. “Oh, come on. S’not like you can’t do the hocus pocus and freeze me again.” He said, looking exasperated. With a nod, she did, and Spike hit the ground in a heap. Giving him a warning glare, she turned and walked over to Xander. He was laying on the ground, blood pouring from his nose, and two spectacular black eyes blooming.
“Xander?” All she got was a cough in response. Kneeling down next to him, she placed a hand on his chest. “Xander?” She called again. He managed to open his eyes, pain and fury swirling in their depths. “That was stupid,” she told him, shaking her head.
“Yeah, well, I never was too bright,” he said, his forced laugh causing him to cough again.
“What were you thinking? Are you crazy?” she asked him, absolutely furious with him.
“Had to try, Will, before he hurt Buffy.”
“Why in the bloody hell would I hurt Buffy, you git? She’s the mother of my child!” Spike growled, coming up behind Willow. Mark moved to the other side, looking down at the younger man.
“So, that makes you all good and not wanting to kill the Slayer? Right. Sorry, ain’t buying it.”
“Even if that were the case, Xander. Buffy can handle herself.” Willow reminded him.
“Yeah, and she’s always got Tonto, here,” Spike said, jerking his thumb at Mark.
“Quit. Calling. Me. That.” Mark said through clenched teeth. Spike snorted, and looked away.
“God, what is it with men?” Willow exclaimed, interrupting the fight starting behind her. “Is the testosterone clogging your brains, or something? Live or undead, you’re all a bunch of morons.” With a disgusted flip of her hair, she stalked away. Let them kill each other, she didn’t much care at the moment. Shooting a glare at Spike, Mark took off after her, barely making it through her door before she slammed it.
“Going to kill me now?” Xander asked without humor. Spike could see that’s what he expected.
“No. Not going to waste my time. But, I will tell you this, stay away from me and mine. Understand?” He shifted back into game face, pleased to see the fear penetrate the hate in the boy’s eyes.
“What are you going to do? Try to play family man now?” Xander let out a bitter laugh, rolling to climb up to his knees. “You’re a monster, Spike. A demon. How do you think that’s going to help in the parent department, huh? What can you teach him about being a PRODUCTIVE member of society? How to dismember a body in thirty seconds or less?” Spike struggled to keep his hands at his sides, and not show Xander that he could do that last one in a LOT less than thirty seconds.
“I mean it, whelp. I don’t want to see you around me, or Buffy, OR MY SON. Ever.” His voice dipped dangerously low, his gold eyes blazing. Xander shrank back, his ire not dissipating despite the threat in the blonde’s eyes. But, he didn’t say anymore, just watched as Spike turned in a swirl of black leather, and strode away.
~*~*~
Mark leaned against the cheap wood dresser of the hotel, while getting his first taste of the redhead’s anger. He had to admit, he was a bit unnerved by the flashing black of her eyes.
“It was bad enough that Xander goes and attacks Spike, then YOU have to go get all offended cause he calls you by a stupid nickname!” She cried, crossing her arms over her heaving breasts. “God, petty much?”
“It’s offensive.” He tried to defend himself.
“Spike is always offensive. He wears it with pride, like his duster.” She shot back. “You’ll just have to get used to it. Especially if you want to keep peace around Buffy.” She paced the length of the room, her face flushed with anger. Why did guys have to be so stupid? She was upset about Xander, then Spike and Mark have to start a pissing contest. She could almost feel Spike’s jealousy towards Mark, even through his rancor at Xander. And it so didn’t help with the guitar player getting all sensitive about Spike’s usual antics. Bad situation made worse in a matter of seconds, just add male ego.
Mark sighed and stepped in front of her, a brow quirking at the narrowing of her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try not to let it get to me,” he said. Willow looked doubtful, but she knew he really wasn’t the one she was angry with. She wasn’t even mad at Spike. Xander was the one in the wrong here, and she was having a hard time having any sympathy for her friend.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go mental. It was just. . .too much. Ya know?” Mark nodded. “I don’t know what to do about Xander. The longer we’re here, the more he seems to lose control,” she said, leaning her forehead against his chest. He ran his hands over her arms, soothing her.
“As my old Indian grandmother used to say, everybody has to find their own way. He’ll either find a way to deal with it, or he’ll alienate himself from the people he supposedly loves,” he said. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him.
“Old Indian grandmother, huh? She got anymore insightful sayings? Like, what to do when you find yourself incredibly attracted to a man you just met?” She asked, uncrossing her arms and looping them around his waist. His eyes turned black, and he grinned, causing her heart to skip.
“Yeah. She’d say, go for it.” Willow’s giggle was cut off by the sudden possession of his mouth over hers. She moaned softly as he kissed her breathless, his expert mouth moving sensuously over hers. His hands ran over her arms and across her back, sliding under the hem of her shirt to skim over the smooth skin of her back. She shuddered at the feel of his warm hands on her back, fire starting to run through her veins.
When they broke away, he continued to draw circles on her back.
“I can’t, not yet,” she whispered, hiding her face in his chest.
“Willow, look at me.” He waited until she did, then continued. “If all I wanted was an easy lay, I would have taken one of those girls up on their offer last night. I don’t expect anything. I want you, not going to lie about that. Almost since the second I saw you. God, was it only yesterday?” He was amazed that it was happening so quick. But, then again, his grandmother always told him, when it’s right, you just know. Maybe that was why he never really pursued Anne. He loved her, and he knew that he could FALL in love with her, if he let himself. However, something always held him back. Holding this woman in his arms, he thanked the inner voice that kept him from falling completely over the edge for his friend.
“Yeah, it’s kinda scary isn’t it? I have . . .limited experience with men. I was in love with Xander for most of my life. Then I met Oz. But, that didn’t happen like this.” She said, wonder filling her eyes. She missed the grimace at her admission of love for Xander. He was thankful her taste had improved. “I don’t want to get hurt again,” she admitted quietly.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied, smiling down at her. “There’s no rush, for anything. I can wait.” She smiled up at him, wondering if she could. The more she learned about him, the more she was around him, the more she wanted to let this feeling take her over. She had never believed in love at first sight, and she wasn’t sure if she did now. But, something was definitely between them.
“Thank you,” she told him, standing on her tip toes to claim his mouth again.
“Better stop this, or I’m going to forget that I’m trying to be noble,” he teased. Her face turned the color of her hair, and he found himself charmed by it. “Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked.
“I kinda want to get together with Buffy tomorrow, if you don’t mind.” Willow said, apologetically. “But, definitely call me tomorrow. Or, should I call you? Is that too forward?” She asked, her brows drawing together.
“I’ll call you. In the morning. Okay?” He said with a smile. She nodded, ducking her head, feeling silly. Sometimes she just couldn’t keep that nerdy girl she had been from popping out.
“Okay.” She mumbled against his shirt. Tucking a finger under her chin. He dropped a light kiss on her mouth and stepped away.
“I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Mark said with his trademark grin, sending her a wink before turning and walking out the door. Willow found herself smiling like a school girl with her first crush, and couldn’t find it in herself to mind. It had been too long since she had felt this way, and she liked it. Doing a quick spin, she turned to go into the bathroom, for a shower then sleep, with dreams hopefully filled by the tall, dark Indian that kissed like the devil.
~*~*~
Spike lay sprawled across his bed, his naked form still tense from the fight. The hand holding his cigarette tapped lightly against his chest, the other thrown over his bleached head. He had tried to get back his earlier good mood by replaying the evening at Buffy’s in his head. But, each time he imagined Matt’s face, Xander’s words would slam into him.
What if the whelp was right? He wasn’t Angel, he didn’t have the benefit of a soul. He knew the difference between right and wrong, he just didn’t care. Or he hadn’t. One day in the arms of the Slayer had changed him. He hadn’t killed in so long, he had practically forgotten the want for it. But what if it didn’t last?
Doubt and anxiety coursed over him, making him feel useless and weak. This wasn’t like him. There used to be a time where he would see what he wanted and take it. He wanted Buffy, and he wanted Matt. What was the problem?
“You’re a monster, a demon.” Xander’s voice rang through his head once more, making him growl. He would prove him wrong. He would show him, Buffy, and himself that he could be a good father, and a good mate.
Crushing out his cigarette, he rolled over onto his stomach, and forced the image of Xander from his mind. Nothing would keep him from what was his. He’d made a promise to Buffy, and he would die again before breaking it.