Author’s Notes: Believe it or not, I’m still here and I’m still writing even though it seems like I’m moving at a snail’s pace – if the snail was crawling through mud, in winter, and towing a trailer – but this will be finished. In fact, there’s probably only one more chapter to go after this. So for those of you who’ve actually stuck with this – this chapter is for you.

 

Summary: Previously – Angel finally called Buffy to break the news that Spike was alive and had a piece of her soul. Buffy took it rather well, considering, though there was promise of some butt-kicking for being left out of the loop. Wesley’s precious books were teasingly threatened. Angel indulged in some much needed demon killing, but he unfortunately had to take Spike along. Angel’s coat returned from said trip worse for wear - again. Fred talked Spike into one last foray with the lingerie just in time for Buffy to arrive and witness the debauchery. Buffy also learned some of Spike’s predicament by listening at the door before finally going in to see him.

 

Chapter 6: The Horrors of Retribution from Brassed-off Slayers and… well that’s enough actually

 

“Buffy,” Spike said.

 

Seeing his eyes widen and his lips remain parted, Buffy realized that Spike hadn’t remembered seeing her before now. She guessed he really did have no memory of what he did when he was under the influence of her piece of soul. Well, considering what she’d just seen him doing under that influence, perhaps that was for the best. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“Good to see you, too, Buffy.”

 

Fred’s nose wrinkled, and she smoothed her skirt restlessly in the awkward silence that followed. “Well, I think I’ll go see if Wesley and Willow need any help and let you guys catch up.”

 

Spike looked momentarily worried, his gaze sweeping to Fred for reassurance. “Wait. What happens if I… slip?”

 

Buffy answered before Fred had a chance. “I won’t let it happen.” She frowned a bit as she said it. The lingerie was bad enough, but he was looking to Fred for support? That was their thing. Wasn’t that what last year had been about: them being there for each other?

 

“You’ll be fine,” Fred assured him. She tilted her head and smiled encouragingly. “Just don’t think about anything to make you feel guilty.”

 

“Thanks, pet. I’ll try. See you soon?”

 

Fred smiled winningly. “Definitely.”

 

Buffy watched her leave, not missing the very short length of the woman’s skirt as she walked out with a bouncy gait. She turned back to Spike. “So, you two are chummy.” Okay she’d tried to make it sound casual and not at all jealous.

 

Spike’s gaze flickered to the lingerie on the bed. “It’s not really what it looks like.”

 

She could see his brows lower a little and just knew he was trying to think up a good lie. So, he thought he had something to cover up, did he? She supposed it might be amusing to hear what he came up with but not enough to wait for it. “Oh, then it wasn’t you parading around half naked while she watched?” Well, she hadn’t planned on bringing that up, really, but that was before she decided that she was miffed.

 

 “Oh, you saw the lingerie, then?” At least Spike had the decency to look a little sheepish, though not enough as far as Buffy was concerned.

 

“Yeah, I saw the lingerie.” Her eyes narrowed a bit.

 

“Well, see. I don’t really remember it, so I figure there’s no harm as long as Fred…  wait a minute. You’re jealous again.” His expression changed from contrite to fairly cocky in a few seconds flat, complete with that smirk that either made her want to smack him or kiss him or both. Usually wanting to smack him won out. She was coming close to it right now actually.

 

How the heck does he do that so fast? “I am not jealous,” she fired back. “It was just… Do you realize how little you were wearing?”

 

“Not really convincing me that you weren’t jealous, love,” he purred, moving a little closer to her now.

 

“Don’t have to. It was just that...” He was almost in her personal space now, and alarm bells were going off in her brain. “It was weird, and, and... you so did look fat in that pink teddy.” She crossed her arms smugly. Okay not the most mature comeback, but she’d take it.

 

Spike wrinkled his forehead in confusion, obviously trying to remember and coming up blank. “Fred had me in pink? She knows that’s not my color.” He looked down at his stomach, pinching it a little.  “And this is your fault anyway. You and your cravings for cookie dough ice cream. Doesn’t do much for my physique.”

 

“Not much for your consideration either, obviously. Not even bothering to tell me you were back.” She raised her eyebrows and scowled at him to accompany her still crossed arms. Now that she thought about it again, this still ticked her off.

 

“Now, Angel was supposed to explain that part. Figures he’d mess it up. I had a good reason for not telling you.”

 

“Because you’d lost your soul?” she asked, her tone a little more skeptical than she intended.

 

“Well, yeah. I thought that…”

 

She poked him in the chest. “You trust me that little? After all we went through together?”

 

“But that was then, pet. And I didn’t trust myself.”

 

She wasn’t buying his look of innocence. She poked her finger into his chest harder. “Right. That’s almost as lame as ‘it’s not you. It’s me.’ What you’re really saying is that after all we did for each other, I’d just brush you off, just like that, without trying to help, is that it?” Buffy found herself pushing him up against the wall. She really had intended for this to be a civil conversation, but lately her restraint wasn’t what it used to be and Spike was coming dangerously close to stirring up old feelings of knock down, drag outs that she missed more than she’d like to admit. She could always blame it later on the missing piece of her soul, but right now this felt good.

 

Surprisingly her manhandling just seemed to cause Spike’s smug expression to return, and her annoyance notched up bit. That cocky, arrogant…He hasn’t changed a bit.  He glanced down amusedly at her hand buried in his shirt before asking her with obvious innuendo, “What you gonna do with me now, pet? Show me how wrong I was?”

 

Whatever he imagined, it obviously wasn’t the knee that she bought up to hit him in that sensitive area between his legs. That was if his expression of surprise was any indication anyway.

*********

Well, at least that’s good news, Angel thought. He guessed that fresh eyes, or minds as it might be, really did make a difference. Willow had only been here a little while, and already it looked like she and Wesley were making progress. With Fred on her way to join them, it could only help even further. It appeared as if they might be able to find a spell to restore Buffy’s piece of soul to her after all. Fred had told him where Buffy was, so now that he was actually presentable, he could tell her the good news. Checking his still damp hair with his hand one last time, he gave up on it and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

 

Well, the sight that greeted him wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to find, but somehow he wasn’t that surprised either. The first thing he saw was Buffy, sitting rather comfortably astride Spike’s backside and unceremoniously smashing his face into the carpet.

 

“Now watch the delicates, love. You did just give em a bit of a shock a moment ago.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t hit them that hard,” Buffy griped, bouncing slightly on his rear and eliciting a grunt from Spike. “And you deserve this, you jerk. Not telling me you came back. I told Angel I was gonna kick your ass.”

 

“She did say that,” Angel agreed, deciding this was as good an opening as any to make his presence known.

 

“Angel,” Buffy said with some surprise, making movements of leaving Spike’s back.

 

“Don’t get up on my account,” Angel said with a smirk. “I’d kinda like to see you kick his ass.” His eyebrows rose in amusement, and he casually crossed his arms to lean against the doorframe. This was gonna be fun.

 

“That wasn’t the part she kicked,” Spike grumbled.

 

“Shut up.” Buffy smacked him off the head for emphasis. “I’m not done with you yet.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Still say you’re jealous, pet.”

 

“I am not. And if I were you I wouldn’t be making references to things that just happen to involve you parading around in lingerie.”

 

“Lingeire?” Angel asked, though now he could definitely see the lacy garments jumbled together on Fred’s bedspread. And Spike was wearing these? Suddenly Spike’s urgency to ask for help not too long ago made sense. He should’ve guessed that “just looking” was deleting a lot of juicy details. Chuckling, he walked to the bed and picked up a piece of it. At least he was chuckling until he realized how expensive these likely were and that if they were large enough for Spike to wear, he doubted they would fit someone else. “Hey, the money I gave Fred was to buy stuff for Cordelia, not you,” he complained to Spike. Angel didn’t realize his mistake until Buffy’s attention turned to him instead of her previous target.

 

“Cordelia?” she asked, her brow furrowed for a moment until it sunk in, then she wrinkled her nose a little. “You were buying lingerie for Cordelia?”

 

“Well, it isn’t like it sounds,” he tried to explain. “And Cordy’s in a c…”

 

“Cordelia?” she repeated.

 

Spike snickered, and Buffy bounced again. “Hey,” he complained, but no one paid any attention to him.

 

“And did this happen before or after you came to Sunnydale, because there was no mention of Cordelia then?” Buffy crossed her arms.

 

Uh, oh, Angel thought, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. Unfortunately, since nothing useful was coming to him he went with, “Well, you weren’t going to tell me about Spike.”

 

The momentary look on Buffy’s face told Angel that this one took her off guard for a moment. She wrinkled her forehead momentarily, but then the stubborn look came back just as quickly as it had gone. “That’s not the same thing. Spike and I… it’s not the same. Besides, you got to know about Spike, so it was only fair… And it’s Cordelia.”

 

“Oh, come on. That isn’t anywhere near as bad as Spike.”

 

“I’m lying right here,” Spike pointed out. “And speaking of which, you’re getting kinda heavy, Slayer. You think you could… Ow.”

 

Buffy gave his head one last thump as she none to gingerly got off of his back. Spike grumbled something about difficult slayers as he picked himself up off the floor.

 

“Okay, we’ll forget about this for now,” she stated, “because we have more important things to do.” Buffy nodded her head for emphasis, and her eyes dared Angel to argue with her. “But I’m not done with this for good, so don’t be getting any ideas that you’re off the hook.” She snorted and mumbled “Cordelia” under her breath.

 

Okay, this was bad. Better to let Buffy cool off about this one for now, and besides she wasn’t entirely herself. Maybe it would slip her mind once she was back to normal. He tried to ignore the satisfied smirk Spike was giving him and bit his lip in an effort to remain silent on the matter, deciding instead to take the opportunity to tell them both the good news before he got himself in any more trouble.

*********

 

Spike couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face if he tried. Buffy had been jealous. She could deny it all she wanted, but he saw. Of course she was also jealous about Cordelia, but hell, he’d take it considering Angel now shared her wrath.

 

God, it was good to see her. He didn’t realize how much so until she’d actually been there, standing in the door. And yeah, she’d kneed him in the wrinklies, but that was likely all that had kept him from responding in a less than appropriate manner when she’d started in with the rough and tumble. This wasn’t the Buffy of that night in the house who had been on the verge of giving up and in need of some delicate TLC. This was Buffy with fire in her eyes, and that Buffy elicited an entirely different kind of response in him: one that was going to surface if he didn’t stop thinking about it. Good thing he’d still gotten the gist of Angel’s explanation despite his little mind wandering foray. He decided he better say something, because they were wrapping up the discussion without him. “Well, let’s go and see what the watcher, the witch, and the scientist have come up with then, shall we? Hurry this thing along?”

 

Her brows wrinkling again and the fire in her eyes dimming a bit just like that, Buffy turned to him. “You want to get rid of it that badly?”

 

Oh, damn. How the hell did he always manage to bollucks up communicating what should’ve been a good thing? Sometimes he wondered if he’d been born with ‘foot in mouth’ disease. He metaphorically held his breath, because if he didn’t fix this quick, the disappointed look she was giving him was gonna make him take another trip to Buffy soul land and he’d be out for the count. Think, he told himself. Okay, in a situation like this that required finesse… Oh who was he kidding, he didn’t have finesse. Unless maybe he compared himself to Anya, that is. Bluster and misdirection it was gonna have to be. That and a general hope he didn’t get buggered. He took a breath and slumped his shoulders to convey his sincerity. “It’s not like that. It’s just that you do need your soul back, pet…” No response there. She wasn’t buying it, okay, plan B.  He smirked a little. “Besides, I don’t think Angelcakes can take much more of Buffy-me. He fancies me enough already without the…” Spike didn’t get the rest of that out, because Angel hit him in the back of the head. Now wait a minute, how’d he get behind me? “Hey watch the hair! Mine actually looks decent.”

 

Angel gave him a look that could’ve combusted him until the statement sunk in, then he tried to sneak in a hair-check when he thought no one would notice as they left Fred’s room and boarded the elevator. Big poof.

 

Buffy gave him an annoyed look, but he could see a smirk just dying to get out. Her brand of humor had become more like his in the last couple of years. She tilted her head just so, and the smirk won and made an appearance as the elevator doors shut.  “And Angel would prefer the actual you, because why?”

 

Spike beamed at her grin. “Someone’s gotta keep him on his toes; otherwise he’d get even softer around the…”

 

“If I were you, Spike, I wouldn’t finish that statement,” Angel interrupted. He turned an almost evil grin on him.

 

“Or what? You’ll bore me to death?”

 

“Or I’ll tell Harmony that you want some help redecorating your apartment, and then I’ll give her a budget.” He crossed his arms smugly.

 

“Oh, you wouldn’t.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Spike shot a conspiratorial look at Buffy. “And he insists his soulless incarnation is the evil one. Have you seen Harmony’s taste?”

 

A smile crossed Buffy’s face, not only letting him know that she had, but that she was properly distracted and feeling better again. “I don’t know. I think your room might look cute with a couple of well placed unicorn statuettes and posters. Some nice, lacy chiffon curtains.”

 

“Bite your tongue…”

 

The elevator door dinged and Buffy got a pleased look Spike seldom saw as she added, “Maybe you could share lingerie.”

 

The door opened and she hopped out as Spike made a playful growl and lunge at her and she scooted a way, snickering. That’s my girl, he thought. He smirked at Angel again whose scowl told him that he was picking up on the rapport between he and Buffy. Heh heh heh, Spike thought, let him brood about that for a while. He can play high and mighty ‘Buffy loves me best’ all he wants, but I know how to make her laugh.

 

Angel cleared his throat and said, “Wesley, Willow, and Fred are this way.” Spike watched Angel’s hand move to Buffy’s arm to guide her in the correct direction: a possessive gesture. He took up a position behind them, his smirk growing. He didn’t need such things to know he had a connection. He had her smile. He was smiling himself as he sauntered behind Angel and Buffy into the office, nodding a greeting to Willow and giving a small hello to Fred.

 

“We’ve made some more progress!” Willow announced happily.

 

“Well it’s about time. We didn’t think you’d ever make any progress.”

 

Spike froze. There were few voices that could cause his mood to go from good to good and pissed and wanting to rip someone’s head off as fast as that one. He clenched his fists and tried to remain calm. Fortunately for all concerned, Angel asked the question for him.

 

“What do you want, Lilah?”

*********

 

Buffy turned to stare at the well-dressed woman standing in the doorway like she owned it. The cut of her fitted suit reflected elegance as did her stylish and so-not-affordable pumps and the scarf she wore tied around her neck that looked like it probably cost more than her own entire not-so stylish, Sunnydale-bought outfit. On top of that, she had just enough curves on her statuesque body to make Buffy feel almost plain in comparison. Did every woman associated with this place have to have something men would find irresistible? And did they all have to be able to afford clothes way better than hers? Buffy immediately decided that she didn’t like this woman, even if she did have excellent fashion sense. Would it be wrong to kick her ass? Likely so. Stupid conscience. She was sure it was okay to hate her though. She squared her shoulders and sent a look of detached indifference in the woman’s direction as she waited.

 

Lilah took her time answering Angel’s question, even though there didn’t seem to be a reason to do so. She obviously knew why she was here.

 

Bitch. Control freak, Buffy thought, all the while keeping that reticent look.

 

Lilah finally answered, her tone somewhat blasé. “I just wanted to check on your progress. Perhaps encourage you along. You, know ‘go team.’” She half raised a fist in a lame “rah, rah” gesture.

 

“You are not on my team, Lilah.”

 

“Representative of Wolfram and Hart here, of which you are president of this branch, so I think that qualifies as ‘same team’.” Her look was not exactly smug, but close enough that Buffy felt her hackles rising. She heard a distinct growling noise which she at first thought was coming from her own throat but soon figured out was coming from Spike. There was a healthy dose of hatred in his blue eyes, and Buffy felt an almost guilt inducing feeling of “ha!” She crossed her arms smugly. Spike didn’t like her either.

 

Angel’s gaze snapped to Spike. “Cut it out, Spike. Don’t encourage her.”

 

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one she likes to put through her own special brand of ‘incentive.’”

 

“And as amusing as that always is, your ability to somehow still manage to make me look bad is definitely not worth it. The Senior Partners have little patience,” Lilah said. She turned her gaze to the group researching at the table. “But I have every confidence that you three will take care of this soul problem in no time.” Her gaze lingered on Wesley longer than the others, and Buffy could have sworn she caught her with a smile, a questioning look, or something directed at him that hinted at a history between the woman and the former watcher who no longer looked anything like the tweeded, stuck-up she remembered. That was unexpected and somehow disturbing. Lilah was addressing Spike again, though, so Buffy had little time to consider it any longer. Lilah’s voice turned patronizing. “And then, perhaps it’ll be easier to get you to do what we want. No pesky soul holding you back, and…” she turned to Angel. “Despite all Angel’s attempts to make me say otherwise, you’re not getting it back. It is rather... gone. That was, after all, the point.”

 

Spike stiffened, obviously very close to losing control. His body quivered and his teeth gnashed almost visibly. “Angel,” he gritted out: a warning that he was gonna snap.

 

Angel smiled in a way that was somehow more disturbing than any of his other expressions. “Lilah, get out, or I’ll let Spike explain to you just how unhappy he is that you put him in this position in the first place.”

 

“Not that he can really do anything to me. Dead already after all,” Lilah pointed out. “But…”

 

“Lilah,” Angel ground out.

 

“Fine. You will let me know when the deed is done, won’t you?” She sent Spike an almost leer. “I can’t wait.” She closed the door just as Spike lunged for her, snarling. Spike pounded his fist into the door and let out a loud “gah!” of frustration before leaning his head into the surface, all fire leaving him in a rush that left only defeat in its wake.

 

So much for his good mood, and mine, too, Buffy thought. Everyone sat silent for a moment, adjusting to this new development.

 

“Well now wasn’t she just the ray of sunshine,” Willow finally remarked sarcastically.

 

Buffy couldn’t have agreed more, but no, she wasn’t going to accept this. She remained staring at the door, but her expression turned to one of resolve. “But we’re not going to let her win.” She turned to the others. “Are we?” When she got no response, she turned to Spike. “Spike?”

 

He sighed. “Yeah, love.”

 

“Is that… bitch any worse than Glory?”

 

He lifted his head. “Not really. She’s a flunky of the Senior Partners is all. Thinks she’s all high and mighty.”

 

Buffy smiled at him. “Let’s show her she’s not.” Once she got a smile from Spike, she turned to Angel.

 

Angel nodded. “Nothing I’d like better at the moment.”

 

“’Bout time we put that skanky bitch in her place,” Fred muttered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

Spike chuckled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, pet.”

 

Angel looked to the group at the table. “Sounds like a plan to me, Fred. Let’s hear what you guys have got? We have work to do.”

 

TBC