Chapter 36: Entropy (3)
Easily, Spike caught her foot before it made contact. He simply held it, smirking at her as she tried to keep her balance.
“Come on luv, you can do better than that.”
He let go of her and waited for her next attack. He had been watching her fight a lot since he had turned her, and he had already been observing before that. She was slowly becoming careless, too confident in her own abilities. Yes, she was strong, even more so now. But strength wasn’t all for a Slayer. He knew that intimately, after all he had bested two of them, and yet he hadn’t been stronger than them. Just lucky. Lucky to be able to use their own mistakes against them. He wouldn’t let that happen to Buffy. She wouldn’t get hurt because she thought she was invincible. To make sure of that, he would simply show her that she was not.
She came closer to him, her fists flying in a quick succession. He managed to avoid most of them, but the last one caught him squarely in the jaw. His head snapped back but he held his ground, and struck back without thinking. His left foot caught her in the stomach, sending her to the ground. Her eyes flashed golden as she looked up, jumped back to her feet and plunged at him. As he ducked, he couldn’t help grinning. She was truly into the fight now, giving all she had, like he was. No more games, no more playing with adversaries that were so unworthy of her. She was the Slayer with added Vampire strength. But he was the Vampire who had drunk the blood of three Slayers, his last taste only a few hours before. She was stronger than she had ever been, and so was he. He remembered very well the last time they had fought like that. It had ended with the total destruction of a building. Hopefully, they wouldn’t destroy the Magic Box. Hopefully, they would end up shagging again.
As much as he loved to watch her, dancing with her was even better. He had observed her fight so often, he could almost guess what moves she would try next, and managed to avoid most of them. Her own instinct was just as good, Slayer senses and all, and few of his blows landed. Every now and then, he sent a biting comment at her, trying to make her lose her concentration, but to no avail. She wasn’t talking back, which surprised him. She was always delivering puns to her victims when she was patrolling. Either he had really pissed her off and she was too mad for quips, or she was concentrating entirely on her fight. He was betting on the latter.
On and on, they danced. Foot and hands, no weapons. After a while, they were both unnecessarily panting, and still they continued to strike, blows succeeding to blows too fast for a human eye to follow.
Buffy draw first blood, with a nasty punch that split Spike’s top lip. As he caught the blood with his tongue, his demon came forward, and he looked intently at Buffy through gold eyes. She dropped her guard, taking a step toward him with her defenses down. He didn’t hesitate a second before striking back, his punch mirroring hers, her lip now bleeding too. Her hand came up to her mouth, and she looked at the red staining her fingers before plunging her hazel eyes into his fire ones. Soon, she had morphed to game face too and was back to fighting him. He let her stay in demon mode; no one would be able to catch sight of her here.
The new round was even more vicious than the precedents, and still neither was gaining the upper hand. Gleefully, Spike thought that this might last until morning. Unless they shifted to a different kind of dance before that.
The sun had disappeared below the horizon for a few minutes when the rented car with stained windows parked behind Anya’s in the driveway. Angel emerged from it, weariness battling with apprehension. He wasn’t sure what he would find here. Was Buffy completely under Spike’s thrall? Had he been so clever that he had even fooled Willow? How would Buffy take his concern now that they weren’t together anymore? He had decided to come at the minute he had heard Willow’s message, despite the reassuring words. He knew that Spike was at his most dangerous when he seemed the most harmless. He just had to come.
Asking Connor – not Connor, Steven, he had to get used to that – to come had seemed like a good idea. A quick trip out of town, the occasion to do some nice bonding without other people around. Cordelia had freaked the kid out, as well as Angel, when she had used her brand new demon powers to ‘cleanse’ him from all the horrors he had seen and fought. He had seemed to relax slightly after that, but he wasn’t any warmer toward Angel. He had asked the opinion of his ‘father’ before accepting to come, and, God, it hurt to hear him call someone else that. Angel had tried to initiate a few conversations during the trip, but Steven had cut short all his efforts, answering in monosyllabic only. He turned toward him as he came out of the car, and smiled. The warmth was lost in the cold stare he received in return. With a sigh, he walked to the front door and knocked.
It was Dawn who opened, laughing as she looked toward the living room. Then her eyes fell on him, and all traces all laughter disappeared, replaced by ice and hatred. Why she hated him, he had no idea, but he had no doubt that he would have been dust long ago if she had not feared her sister’s reaction to that. He certainly seemed to have a thing to make teenagers despise him.
“Hello Dawn. Can I come in?”
“You are not welcome here. Go back to the Hell you came from.”
With that, she stalked away, scowling, but leaving the door wide open. Shaking his head, he entered the house and followed her toward the living room, making sure that Steven was following.
He had expected to find Buffy or Willow, instead he was confronted to Xander and Anya. Dawn was in a corner, sulking.
“Hey guys. Congratulations. Sorry I couldn’t be here for the wedding.”
Xander nodded, always cold toward him, but he was used to that. Anya smiled brightly.
“We have pictures! You want to see the pictures?”
She was already opening an album on the coffee table but he shook his head.
“Maybe later. I have to talk to Willow. Or Buffy.”
“Buffy is not here,” she replied, sounding a bit hurt. “Willow is upstairs. I’ll call her.”
Without moving from her spot, she bellowed Willow’s name, making everyone jump in surprise. Angel turned to Steven, giving him an apologetic smile. The ‘old friends’ he had praised to his son had not even asked who the young man was yet, and they were acting rather rudely so far. However, Steven looked completely unconcerned.
As he moved a little around the room, a picture on a shelf caught his eye by his bright colors. He picked up the frame, smiling at the happy look on all the Scoobies’ face. He truly regretted not having been there for the wedding. Then he noticed the man on the far right, just next to Buffy. He hadn’t seen him so elegant in ages, but there was no mistaking the bleached hair and smirking smile.
Just then, Willow entered the room, followed by the other witch. He knew his eyes were probably gleaming with gold when he spun toward her, showing her the offending picture.
“You said there was nothing to worry about!” he accused. “Care to explain that?”
The girl’s mouth opened and she blushed, but no sound came out. Finally, it was Dawn who answered. She strode to him and took the frame from his hands.
“There is nothing to explain because it’s none of your business!” she barked.
She walked away toward the door, clutching the picture against her. Before getting out, she turned to him, a cruel smile on her lips.
“I hope he stakes you. And I hope I’ll be there to see that.”
Dawn banged the front door behind her, happy at the sound it made. Then she realized her mistake. She had planed to run to the Magic Box to warn Buffy and Spike, but if she did go there alone at night she would be grounded until she turned 21, and no puppy eyes would change that. Going back inside after such a big exit wasn’t an option either. Scowling, she sat down on the front steps, still holding the picture against her.
She heard the door open and someone step out, and she turned to the intruder, ready to give a tongue lashing if it was Angel. It wasn’t. Instead, it was that boy who had arrived with him. Furious at the vampire, she hadn’t paid much attention to him until now. He took a few steps until he was standing in front of her, his face inexpressive, except maybe for some curiosity.
“You hate Angelus. Why?”
Her eyebrows rose at his words. No hello, no introductions, straight to business. Rude.
“Not Angelus, Angel. I hate Angel because he’s a big stupid poof with an ego the size of Texas and as much sense as a goose and all he does is hurt my sister. Who are you?”
He ignored her question. As he frowned slightly, apparently puzzled, the thought crossed her mind that he looked cute with his head tilted just so. Cross that. He was cute, period.
“Angel, Angelus, same thing.”
She shook her head. “Not the same. I’ve seen both, and I don’t want to see Angelus ever again. Of course I don’t want to see Angel either, but at least he’s not evil. Just dumb.”
He seemed to be reflecting on her words, his eyes intent on her, as if trying to see through her.
“I hate him too,” he declared at last.
Instinctively, she smiled. It seemed that the little club she had founded with Spike had just enrolled another member. Whose name she still ignored. She raised her hand toward him, saying:
“I’m Dawn. What’s your name?”
He looked at her offered hand before shaking it awkwardly.
“Steven.”
“So, why do you hate Angel? You came here with him.”
He turned his back to her, thrusting his hands in his pockets and pacing angrily.
“My father forced me to accompany him. He says I have to spend time with him. But he’s a demon. A killer. An animal.”
The voice was cold, stating facts with no emotions. The contrast between his hateful words and pacing on one side and the lack of feelings in his voice on the other was just weird.
“Why did your father force you to come?” she probed, curious.
“Because he is my father.”
Dawn stared at him. He wasn’t making any sense at all. His father forced him to come because he was his father?.. Unless. Buffy had told her about Angel having a son. She hadn’t paid much attention, but she was rather sure she had mentioned a baby, not a teen.
“You don’t mean you’re Angel’s son, right?”
Stupid idea. Of course he wasn’t. And he had said he hated him too, so it was even more stupid.
“That’s exactly what I meant.”
He stopped pacing and looked at her as she gaped at him. He seemed to guess that he had completely lost her. A very weird grin came to his lips. Sadness, regret, longing, and was there shame too?
“Angel is my father by blood,” he explained very quietly. “But I was raised by. someone else. My real father. In another dimension. Just came back to this world.”
It took Dawn a few seconds to process the information. It was just. wow. But then, wow was the story of her whole life. A thought crossed her mind.
“You’re not a vamp, uh?”
Pure indignation took over his whole attitude.
“Of course not!” he cried, offended. “I am not a demon!”
She raised her hands in an appeasing gesture.
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not like there’s something wrong with being a demon anyway.”
It was his turn to gape at her like a fish out of the water.
“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed incredulously.
“Yes I am. I know several demons who are just fine people. They’re my friends.”
Her voice trailed as he started pacing again. In the dim light, she could see several emotions playing on his face. Anger was one. Incomprehension another. Confusion too. After a couple of minutes of silence, he lashed out, though she wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to himself.
“This dimension is full of crazy people. ‘Can’t believe they live next to demons and think it’s normal. It’s not normal! Demons don’t deserve to live and we have to destroy them!”
As the last words crossed his lips, he kicked angrily at the lawn gnome, breaking it in the process. Dawn rose to her feet, and took a few steps toward him, not too close, she didn’t want to be the next thing he kicked.
“Everything is not all black and white,” she said softly. “Some demons are bad and need to be killed. Other are just trying to live like you and me without hurting anyone.”
He looked at her, cocking his head, and she wondered whether he understood what she meant. Quickly, his eyes left hers, and he gave a sheepish glance at the remains of the gnome.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “Whatever that thing was.”
She had a short laugh. She didn’t know whether it was her sister or Willow who had placed that ugly thing on the lawn, but she was rather happy it was gone. Creepy little critter. She noticed something metallic gleaming among the pottery shards, and bent toward it, picking up what she quickly identified as a camera.
“What’s that?” Steven asked, curious.
“I’m not sure,” she replied as she started back toward the house. “But I know it’s something bad.”
Buffy propped herself on her elbows, and looked at Spike, sprawled on the floor a few feet from her, where she had thrown him a couple of minutes before. He had been straddling her legs, blabbering something about becoming careless and not being invincible, whatever that meant, and she had send him flying over her. She didn’t remember ever fighting that long and that hard, and she was pretty sure she would be sore all over when morning came. Still, the fight had been exhilarating. Spike had forced her to push her limits over and over again, until she found resources in her she had no idea existed.
She managed to get to her feet and walked to Spike warily, expecting him to jump up and continue the fight.
“Call it a draw?” she proposed as she found blue eyes looking at her.
He nodded his assent and accepted the help of her stretched hand.
“Good fight, luv,” he said with something that sounded very much like pride in his voice.
“Good?” she replied, pretending to be offended. “You mean bloody great fight, right?”
He laughed at her use of his words and hugged her tight. His blood was calling for her, tantalizingly close as she nuzzled his neck. She became conscious that she was still in game face. She didn’t bite, though, and returned to her human features. After nearly three hours of almost continuous sparing, he was probably as hungry as she was.
“There’s blood in the office minifridge,” she said softly.
“You sure know how to talk to a man, luv,” he replied with a quiet giggle.
She pulled away from him and gave him a mock punch, to which he answered with an exceedingly loud grunt. She walked away toward the store, calling above her shoulder:
“If you’re not coming I’ll drink it all and leave nothing for you.”
“Oh, I’m going to come, luv,” he replied, the smirk obvious in his voice. “And so are you.”
He caught up with her just as she was passing the door, his arms sliding around her waist, holding her back against his body. Dimly, she thought that he still had some blood left in him if she was to believe the hardness pressed against the small of her back. Then his hands were all over her, and all conscious thoughts fled her mind.
With a sigh, Willow let herself fall on the couch, refusing to look at Angel any longer just as he refused to listen to her. She had spend a good twenty minutes trying to explain to him why she was sure Spike wasn’t messing with Buffy’s mind. Of course, she wasn’t stupid enough to tell him that they were an item now and that he lived here, but she used all the other arguments she could think of. Tara and Anya jumped in to help, and, to her surprise, even Xander made a few comments about Spike that were not negative. But whatever they said, Angel might as well have been deaf. By now, he was just waiting for the Slayer’s return.
Dawn entered the house, followed by a kid that Willow had noticed earlier when she first came downstairs. The wedding picture that had started it all was still in her hand. Her other hand clutched.
“A video camera?” she heard herself exclaim as the teen deposited the thing on the coffee table.
“It was in the lawn gnome, in front of the house,” she explained. “Someone was spying on us.”
“But who?” Tara asked quietly. “And why?”
A low growl rose from Angel’s throat.
“Just think. Who’s obsessed with Buffy? Who has been stalking her and keeping an eye on her?”
Dawn’s eyes were throwing daggers at the vampire, but curiously it was Xander who voiced the protest.
“Just think yourself. Ever seen Spike use anything remotely modern? Even his TV is an antiquity!”
“It’s not Spike,” Willow agreed, her tone decided and businesslike. “And we already know who is behind this. What we need is the where. Give me ten minutes and we will see who’s the biggest nerd.”
Various objects and books that had been on the research table were now scattered on the floor, some of them broken, yet Buffy couldn’t make herself care. She had vaguely complained when Spike cleared the table and made her lie down on it. She had tried to protest when he slid her sweat pants down her legs. But now objections were the farthest thing in her mind, and would stay away as long as he kept doing all the wonderful things he was doing down there.
Willow was sitting at the dining table, in front of her laptop, an intense look of concentration on her face. She was nibbling on her bottom lip, and Dawn wondered whether she wished she could used magic right now to speed the process a little. The Scoobies, Angel and Steven were scattered around the table, everyone looking at the redhead, everyone waiting for her to get through and confirm that it was indeed the three idiot geniuses who were behind the camera
Suddenly, Willow’s eyes widened in shock. Instinctively, Dawn moved to her side, her action mirrored by Xander, Anya and Tara.
“Whoa.” the teen exclaimed as images succeeded themselves on the computer screen.
“There are other cameras,” Willow said flatly.
Buffy whimpered as Spike drove into her in one long thrust. He remained still for a few seconds, watching her, a look of pure adoration on his face. She wrapped at the same time her legs and arms around him, pulling him to her, closer, deeper. Her lips found his as he started rocking inside her, torturing slow movements. Her tongue plundered his mouth and she moved her hips in time with his. His rhythm gradually became more urgent and she had to pull away from his lips, moaning his name as he angled his body to rub against her clit with each thrust.
Incredulous, the Scoobies stared as Willow revealed new locations with each key she pressed. Dawn couldn’t believe that someone would go to such lengths just to spy on them. And yet they had.
“I can’t believe it,” Willow said breathlessly. “The Double Meat Palace. The Bronze. My classrooms on campus, Xander’s site…”
She was silent for a few seconds, and no one talked. The enormity of it all was just sinking in. Finally, the redhead shook her head.
“There’s even one at the Magic Box.”
As the image appeared on the screen, Willow stood and took a step back, bumping into Xander who had been standing behind her.
“Oh my.”
Tara’s hand was suddenly in front of Dawn’s eyes, but she had seen enough to recognize the two blondes. On the table at the Magic Box. There was no way she was ever doing research at that table, ever again!
A loud growl made her jump, and she pulled at Tara’s hand to see Angel on the side of the table, looking at the screen with eyes that gleamed with gold. Next to him Anya was looking quite interested by the show, and Dawn was sure it was giving her ideas. Xander’s cheeks were flushed and he was looking anywhere but at the screen, and so was Tara. Willow finally seemed to snap back to reality and fumbled with the keyboard until the image disappeared from the screen.
Everyone was still under the shock of what they had just seen. It was one thing to know they were doing it, quite another to actually see them. Dawn suddenly realized that Angel had disappeared. The sound of a car pulling away noisily answered her question before she could even voice it. This was bad, very bad.
“We have to warn them,” Xander said, his voice surprisingly calm. “He might be mad enough to try and kill them both.”
Willow darted toward the kitchen and its phone. Dawn’s eyes fell on Steven, who was still at the other end of the table, watching them all with curiosity.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked finally.