Chapter 12: Cookies
It was Saturday, so no school. First good point. She had no homework. Even better. Buffy was home. She wasn’t sick. She seemed happier than she had been in months. Who could have asked for more ?
Dawn wasn’t asking for anything. Except maybe a little help.
“They’re not supposed to spread like that,” she mumbled, looking disgustedly at her experiment.
The few cookies she had carefully placed on the baking sheet were now cooked. But the dozen had become one solid, giant, shapeless cookie.
“‘Morning Dawnie. Watcha doing ?”
The teen rolled her eyes at her sister. It wasn’t morning, it was the middle of the afternoon. And wasn’t what she was doing obvious ?
“My cookies are all flat and runny,” she whined.
“Lets try another batch. Super cook is here.”
Considerably later, the two sisters proudly admired the result of their hard work. Perfectly shaped, plump chocolate chip cookies. The kitchen was a mess, and both of them had traces of dough on their faces. There was flour on the floor and in Buffy’s hair from when Dawn had thrown a handful at her, after the third batch – the burnt one.
Buffy’s hand sneaked toward the still warm cookies, and Dawn smacked it down. “Don’t you dare! If you want to eat, get one of the ugly ones.”
The perfect batch was the fifth, which left a lot of less than perfect but mostly edible cookies to be had.
“Come on Dawnie, cookies are made to be eaten.”
That coming from the girl who a few weeks back took note of each single calorie she ate.
“These are not for you,” Dawn insisted. “Eat the other ones.”
Carefully, Dawn piled the little wonders in a box. Buffy was pouting as she grabbed one of the ‘cooked outside but raw inside’ ones and nibbled the crispy edge.
“Who are they for ?” she asked idly between two bites.
Dawn felt her cheeks get hot, and of course Buffy saw it and pressed on. “Oh ! What’s his name ? Do I know him ?”
Dawn was * almost * grateful when Angel entered the kitchen, saving her from Buffy’s enquiring mind. Not quite, though. She would have been grateful if it had been anyone but Angel. She briefly wondered what he was doing there in the middle of the day, when the answer was given to her in no uncertain form. She gave a disgusted look as her sister smooched the vampire.
Eventually, they stopped their gross demonstration, and Dawn scowled when Buffy proposed a cookie to Angel. She certainly hadn’t made all these efforts for him. However, the vamp refused the offer.
It was weird, Dawn mused, how she kept forgetting that Buffy was a vampire too now. It was so easy to overlook. That was, until she did yucky things, like pouring blood into mugs and warming them in the microwave. But that was nothing in comparison to what she did next. Under the bemused gazes of both Dawn and Angel, the Slayer dunked her cookie into her mug before nibbling on it.
“EWWW !” Dawn shrieked. “I won’t ever eat a cookie, ever again ! And I thought it was gross when Spike put weetabix in his blood !”
Buffy stared at the remaining piece of cookie in her hand. She looked like she was about to be sick. Could vampires get sick ?
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know why I did that. Taste good though.”
“Again with the ewww !” Dawn insisted.
The teen tried to sneak away, but Buffy stopped her sternly and told her to clean the mess. She didn’t even propose to help before following the brooding guy in the living room. Life was just not fair.
Feeling absolutely no remorse, Buffy left the kitchen and its mess to Dawn, stealing one of the ‘good’ cookies on her way out. After all, she had helped bake the things, so she deserved one. Angel was sitting on the couch, that unreadable expression of his broadcasted on his face. She joined him.
“You know, you don’t need to eat,” he commented.
“I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t.”
He frowned and she felt a small twinge of annoyance.
“It’s not like I’m going to get sick or anything. Spike eats human food all the time.”
Angel’s expression closed even more if it was possible. Maybe mentioning the blonde vampire to him wasn’t a very good idea.
“Why didn’t you stake him ?” he asked abruptly. “Not just the last few days. Why didn’t you ever stake him ?”
She was taken aback by the question. She had asked it to herself many times, a few of them since her return. She had a vague idea, but no real answer.
“He’s harmless with the chip,” she said feebly, immediately understanding it was a mistake.
“Buffy he killed you ! That is anything but harmless ! And anyway, how was he able to do that ? I thought he couldn’t hurt humans.”
“He can’t. Except for me, since Willow brought me back.”
How could a frown get that deep ?
“And exactly when and how did you notice that ?”
“Angel, that’s the past.” she started.
“I want to know. If you don’t tell me, I’ll go ask him.”
It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise, delivered in a perfectly level voice.
“We had a fight a couple of months ago,” she said slowly. “That’s when I knew.”
“Why didn’t you stake him then ?”
‘I was too busy fucking his brains out, that’s why.’
“I don’t know why. And it is too late now. I don’t want to think about it any more.”
She got to her feet and he caught her hand before she could stalk away.
“It’s not too late to correct a mistake. Let me dust him. For you.”
“No !”
The vehemence of her refusal surprised them both.
“Why not ?” Angel growled. “He killed you.”
“He gave me eternal life. And a soul. And a chance to be with you. Doesn’t he get some credit for that ? He didn’t get anything out of it. He didn’t even ask for anything.”
Angel’s head snapped back as if she’d slapped him.
“You actually believe he gave you a gift ?” he asked, pain clear in his voice.
She shook her head, willing the tears she felt coming to her eyes to go away. How long had she hoped for the time she’d be able to have Angel ? Forever, it seemed. Why couldn’t he understand that ? Hadn’t he wanted it just as much ?
“I don’t know if it’s a gift. I know I’m here. I know I feel good, even if I’m dead, even if I’m a vamp, even if my boyfriend looks like it’s horrible that I’m not in a grave.”
His face softened as her voice faltered and he beckoned her to sit on his lap, rocking her gently.
“Buffy, love, I’m happy you’re here. You know that, right ?”
A sniffle was her only answer.
They remained huddled against each other, both of them quiet, both reflecting on what they had lost or gained when Buffy had been turned.
A curse escaped from Spike’s lips when the Nibblet strode in his crypt without knocking. What was it with the Summers girls and politeness ? Joyce had been such a perfect lady.
He managed to slide into his jeans without giving the kid an eyeful, and, grumpy, went to the fridge to grab something to eat, listening to her distractedly, unaware that he was nodding in all the right places. By the time she finished telling him about her return to school, he had already downed a glass of blood, liberally doused with vodka, and was working on his second one.
“Why don’t you come visit any more ?” she asked in a soft voice.
“You know why,” he replied kindly.
Her lips settled on a pout, very much like Buffy sometimes did.
“I don’t care what they all think,” she said stubbornly. “I say you were right.”
A faint smirk rose to his lips. That was his Bit. Defending him against everyone and ignoring his faults.
“It’s ok, Nibblet. I’m fine by myself. Not that I mind a little company every now and then. Just make sure big sis doesn’t catch you.”
His heart melted as she gave him a big smile. Then he realized she would take this as an invitation to come in as often as she could, which was maybe not all that safe for her.
“Only during daytime,” he added firmly. “I don’t want anyone snacking on you.”
She nodded, and by now she was beaming. At least, he thought gloomily, he knew how to make one of them smile.
He finally noticed the package she was holding, and gestured to it with his glass.
“What’s that ?”
She looked at the box, frowning as if she had forgotten she was holding it, before handing it to him.
“That’s for you,” she announced. “I made them myself. Buffy helped, but it was my idea.”
He opened the lid and stared at the cookies in the box. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him. And he was a big bad vampire, which meant he shouldn’t care.
“Thanks Bit,” he smirked.
She nodded back gravely. “No, thank you.”
He took one of the cookies and thoughtlessly dunked it in his blood. The kid’s loud protest made him jump in surprise and spill a little blood from his glass.
“Eww ! Not again !”
He looked at her questioningly, taking a bite of his treat.
“Buffy did exactly the same thing,” she said, disgust plain on her face and voice. “Except for the booze. Can’t you act like normal people ? At least in front of me ?”
The cookie was good, but not as good as the kid’s words. Any little crumb that made him and Buffy closer was just delicious. God, how much he missed her. He wished he could make himself go to her. But he couldn’t face her. He had said he wouldn’t regret turning her, and he didn’t. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty about taking her life.
“How is she doing ?” he asked quietly, his voice expressing more concern than he had wished.
“She’s fine. Great, really. Much better than when she returned before.”
By her tone and soft smile, he knew he had given himself away to Dawn.
“Whipped much ?” she said gently.
“More than ever,” he smiled back.
He was surprised when the kid gave him a hug. Even more surprised by how much comfort that simple act brought him. Indistinctly, he realized he had never felt lonelier in his whole unlife. Ironic, really. Making a Childe was supposed to give a loving companion to a vampire. All he had was stolen glimpses of the woman he loved. And cookies.