Chapter 7: Itches
As was usual for him, Spike woke up early. For a long time however, he remained in bed, his body molded to Buffy’s, listening to the irregular breaths she took, thinking. He had been as disappointed, as hurt, as her by the Scoobies’ reaction. Then, meeting the other poof and not giving him the beating Spike had been saving for him for so long had been unnerving, to say the least. The only good part had been to hear his Slayer announce to her ex that they were getting married. That had been truly priceless. But as a whole, this town and its inhabitants were getting on his nerves, and he was truly itching to leave, at least for a while. Never before in his unlife had he stayed in the same place for so long. He tried to list the reasons why he was staying, and there was frankly only one. Buffy. Even the Bit was a woman now, and she didn’t need him or her sister. But as he had had a confirmation just the night before, his Slayer’s ties to Sunnyhell were much stronger than his. She didn’t want to leave, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t leave without her.
He couldn’t live without his Childe and Mate. Couldn’t bear being away from the woman who was his kind’s greatest fear, and who was now his fiancée and soon to be wife. He didn’t know if he would ever have proposed to her if they hadn’t turned to their human selves for a while. He probably would have, some day, but not so soon. Not that he had any doubts about marrying her; he just had never given much thought to it all. It simply was not something vampires did. Of course, vampires didn’t fight the good fight either. Normal vampires didn’t live in cozy, sunlight-proofed houses, they didn’t have day jobs, they didn’t take college classes, didn’t care for a teenage kid, didn’t patrol at night to dust their fellow vamps. But then, he had always been anything but a normal vamp, even when he was on the other side of the fight. And Buffy, the vamped vampire Slayer with a soul, wasn’t the epitome of normality either. Which was just fine as far as he was concerned.
With a quiet and content smile, he placed the softest kiss on the shoulder of his sleeping Buffy, and eased out of the bed. As he walked into the bathroom, he surprised himself by throwing a glance at the mirror above the sink. The mirror that he had broken a few days before because he couldn’t stand the sight of himself, and that they had replaced since. He almost expected to see his reflection, but of course the glass remained blank. She had taken such good care of him, he mused, thinking back on how she had reached to him through the voices and pain. In a hundred lifetimes he didn’t think he would ever be able to repay her for it. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
He took a quick shower, scrubbing the gel out of his hair and leaving it in soft curls as he dried it. Buffy had commented she liked it that way. And there was no denying it; he was completely, utterly, and hopelessly whipped.
Sauntering down to the kitchen, he found a tired looking Giles sipping on a cup of tea. The silence in the room was heavy as Spike warmed up some blood in the microwave.
“I apologize about yesterday,” the Watcher said finally. “Neither I nor the others wanted to be unsupportive. We were just… surprised. We didn’t expect…”
“Save it for Buffy”, Spike interrupted him. “She’s the one who needs to hear it. I don’t care what you bleeding lot think.”
The human seemed ready to add something, but he busied himself with his cup instead. For a few minutes, Spike observed him from the corner of his eye, wondering, despite his denial, whether the apology had been sincere or only a reply to his tirade after Buffy’s departure the night before.
“Still leaving the kid here while you go to merry olde England?” Spike asked after he had finished his blood.
Giles raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Well, yes. Unless there’s a problem?”
“I thought the problem was on your side,” Spike replied, shrugging. “Watcher-girl isn’t very fond of vamps, and least of all of yours truly. Kind of surprised she wants to leave her precious baby Slayer in my home.”
“After what you did for Manon,” Giles said with a small smile, “I believe Andrea changed her mind about you.”
“After what I did for Manon?” Spike repeated, dumbfounded.
“Cordelia told us you traded your life…”
The Watcher’s voice trailed off as Spike’s expression grew sour with his words.
“I am going to kill that bloody girl,” he growled angrily.
Which brought the question, how does one kill an angel? In another time, he might have had fun searching for the answer to that question, experimenting. Now, of course, the threat was empty, he knew it just as well as the Watcher.
“Why are you upset?” Giles asked, obviously surprised. “Because she told us? At least now we understand why…”
“It was my business!” Spike interrupted him. “She had no right blabbering about it in front of… Who knows exactly?”
By the sharp intake of breath Giles took, Spike guessed that his eyes must have been flashing gold. The man was used to the vampire by now, he trusted him enough to have found a way for him to get rid of the chip, but the glaring proof of his anger still managed to unsettle him. For some weird reason, it was reassuring and disappointing all at once.
“Everybody. We were all there. Right after you left the shop.”
A familiar curse escaped Spike’s lips and he pressed them tightly together to stop the rant he could feel coming up. He wasn’t going to kill Cordelia, but he would have a few chosen words with her at the first occasion.
“Don’t tell the kid,” he said after a few seconds, catching Giles’ gaze.
The Watcher looked like he was about to question the request, but in the end he just nodded.
“Talking about Manon,” Giles said as he got to his feet, “it’s time for me to go get her. Do you mind if I… uh, borrow your car?”
As he threw the keys to the human, Spike was about to warn him about damaging it, when he remembered that Dawn had scrapped all the black paint off the windows a few days ago, making the vehicle safer by human standards, but not so much for vampires. He grunted his warning anyway when the Watcher left, just on principle, and thought about making his way to the basement. He was sure he had some paint stored away somewhere down there. Then a better idea came to him. Call the stupid bint, like he had done on the roof of that damn hospital, and let her know exactly what he thought of her opening her big mouth about stuff that concerned no one but him.
He was about to do just that when Buffy appeared in the doorway, hair delightfully mussed, eyes sleepy, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. Cordelia, her indiscretion, Giles, his car and Manon instantly disappeared from his thoughts. In three steps, he had her in his arms, the next second their lips met, and his mind was all Buffy’s for quite a while after that.
*****
Manon was literally bouncing up and down as she got out of the car and followed the two Watchers toward the house. She had been stuck a day and half in a bed, with the doctors refusing her any visits apart from her unlikely ‘parents’. They had been so astonished by her rapid recovery that they had done an incredible number of tests on her, each result leaving them more baffled than before. They had stopped when Andrea had pointed out she had not agreed to any tests being done on her ‘daughter’, which had left Manon with absolutely nothing to distract herself. She was sure she could have left he hospital the day before, but both the Watchers and doctors and insisted that she stay there a little more, just in case. In case of what, she had no clue. Slayer healing had kicked in, that was the end of the story as far as she was concerned.
The entrance door opened just as they reached it, and two blondes smiled at them, at her, inviting the visitors to come in. She was pretty happy she was going to stay with Buffy and Spike; she had a suspicion that they were far less nagging about rules than Andrea was.
Now familiar tingles down her spine had her take a second look at the couple. They noticed her questioning look immediately.
“Nothing escapes you,” Buffy said with a forced smile.
“I thought you were going to stay human?” she asked, puzzled.
“They decided to be vampires again,” Giles said quietly.
Manon noticed the weird look that passed between the man and his Slayer, and wondered what she had missed while stuck at the hospital. What surprised her most wasn’t so much that they were vampires, but rather that Andrea, who, judging by her calm, had known about that little detail beforehand, was agreeing to her staying with them.
“Any problem with that, kid?” Spike questioned, a scared eyebrow rising just a little.
“No problem,” she said with a small shrug, trying to avoid looking directly at the too blue eyes. “If that’s what you wanted, good for you.”
Again, there seemed to be electricity in the air, and the tension was almost palpable between Giles and the vampires.
“Spike, would you show Manon to her room?” Buffy asked suddenly. “I’ll fix her a snack. I seem to remember the hospital food is depressingly bad.”
The male vampire took Manon’s suitcase from Giles and started up the steps, throwing a quick glance back at Manon when she didn’t immediately follow. Blushing slightly, she caught up with him. She had been wondering what was wrong between Buffy and her Watcher, and would have given a lot to be able to hear what was going to take place downstairs.
She followed Spike into what he called the guestroom, and as he placed her suitcase on the obviously freshly made bed he suggested that she put her things away immediately.
“So that they can have some time to talk?” she commented with a grin as she started pulling out her clothes.
He chuckled softly. “That’s the idea, yeah.”
He was leaning against the doorframe, watching her as she moved around the room. She could feel her cheeks start to burn under his gaze, and every now and then she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Did he have any idea at all how adorable he looked with the platinum curls falling free instead of gelled back? She needed to find something to say, quickly, before he noticed how nervous being alone with him was making her.
“So, hmmm, Dawn’s room is next door?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Yes,” he replied absently. “She’s not here, though. She went to LA for a few days.”
He paused just a second, then added: “I’ll go see if your snack is ready, OK?”
She nodded, and already he was gone. She frowned at her suitcase, more than half empty already, and decided that the rest could wait for later. There were potentially much more exciting things going on downstairs. As silently as she could, she went down the steps, wincing when one creaked lightly, and sat on the bottom one. She could hear them talking in the kitchen, but they couldn’t see her. As she had thought, things quickly became very interesting.