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
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.
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,
“We’ve made some more progress!”
“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,”
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