Peaches by Storm

Chapter #1 - One Shot

Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. They are being used for fun and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended. Set in Season 5, before Crush “It was a dark and stormy night—” “Oh, that’s just lame!” Spike scowled at Dawn, who was giggling at him. “Oi! It was dark and stormy! ‘D you rather I told you it was a clear, sunny day? ‘Sides, it’s important that it was stormy, ‘cause me an’ Dru woulda been out doing evil if it’d been decent weather. Shut up and let me tell the bloody story.” Dawn rolled her eyes at him, attempting to straighten her face and motioning for him to carry on. “As I was saying… It was a dark and stormy night, so we decided we’d ‘ad enough evil for the night. Dru and I just had feasted upon a family of seventeen—” “Seventeen?!” Dawn choked out with snort. “Yeah, I’ll believe that.” “Are you going to let me tell the story,” Spike growled, “or are you going to keep interrupting me?” “Sorry, sorry!” Dawn giggled. “Please tell it, Big Bad.” Spike eyed her for a moment before folding his arms. She was sprawled out on a worn chair, swinging her legs over the arm. He knew that if Buffy were to find the Bit in his crypt, big sis wouldn’t be happy, but, although he’d never admit to it, he really loved their little visits. “Right then. So me and Dru, we just got back to the place we were staying in. Right nice setup it was, Darla just had to have it. An’ Peaches, he’d give ‘er whatever, ya know? Bloody ponce.” “Oh, right, like you wouldn’t do anything for Buffy, right? What was that you said? Love’s Bitch?” Glaring at the girl, Spike went on without answering. “So we get back and find Peaches bloody well chained up. Reckon he did something to get Darla brassed off while they were… er…” He trailed off, suddenly aware that the subject matter was not exactly appropriate. Not that he cared, of course. He was a bad, rude, evil vampire. It was because of Buffy. Yeah, that’s it, Buffy wouldn’t like it if he told the Bit about Angelus and Darla’s bedroom escapades. Oblivious to Spike’s thoughts, Dawn screwed up her face in a disgusted grimace. “Eeeeeww!” She cried out. “That’s gross! Why would anyone want to chain him up for, well, that?! He’s got too much forehead.” Spike smirked and added, “And he’s got bloody stupid hair. So, yeah, we come in and the poofter’s chained up and naked. Bloody hilarious, Darla leaving him in the middle of a shag—” Spike cut himself off again, internally wincing, but Dawn just looked at him expectantly. “Well, Dru, she liked to play dress up with her dolls, yeah? Well I guess she just looked at her daddy as a great big doll that night.” Dawn’s eyes rounded and her mouth dropped open before she started giggling again. “Oh, my god,” she snorted, “what did she make him wear?” Spike grinned. “Well, I don’t rightly know where she got it, but somehow she managed to come up with a tutu.” “No!” “Yep, peach colored one with little sparkly things in it. Angelus had a fit, but the bint was too busy going on about tea parties with the stars or some such, and she didn’t pay a bit of attention to him. Well, soon enough Darla came home, still brassed off at the poofter, and she decided she wanted a little souvenir.” Dawn was howling with laughter, clutching her sides while tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh God! I bet he didn’t like that! So what was the souvenir?” Spike snorted, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Photograph. Angelus was furious by then, but Darla made him sit still. Think she threatened to leave him like that for a week and force him to face his food all poofed up. She woulda done it, too. Wish she had,” Spike sighed wistfully. “Wait—photograph? Did they even have cameras then? And doesn’t a camera have a mirror?” Dawn’s face screwed up with confusion. “Course they had cameras then. And I don’t bloody know how it works, it just does. So Darla made Peaches pose for her, with both his human and his vamp face. Might still have the photos around somewhere.” Dawn wiped her eyes, still snickering. “Oh!” she exclaimed, realizing something. “Did you say peach? Is that why you call him—” “Peaches? Yeah.” Spike grinned broadly. “Stupid git. We all prolly woulda forgotten about it if ‘e hadn’t kept whingin’. Had to listen to him about it for weeks.” “Ha! Like you could ever forget that. You probably started calling him Peaches right away, didn’t you?” Dawn raised an eyebrow, still smirking. She knew Spike well enough to know that he would never let that kind of ammunition against Angel go. “Well, yeah,” Spike admitted. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Bloody priceless.” Still smiling broadly, Dawn leaned back in the chair and contemplated calling Angel in L.A., just to call him Peaches. Although, it would be a lot more fun to call him that for the first time in person, just so she could see the look on his face when she called him that. Maybe she could talk Mom into taking her to L.A. on the next buying trip for the gallery. Sitting up, she looked over at Spike, who had stretched out on top of a coffin. His leg was swinging off the side and he was fiddling with his lighter. By the pensive expression on his face, Dawn knew that he was thinking about Buffy. He had finally opened up a few days before, after she’d pestered him about whether he liked her sister. Amid complaints and protestations that he was still evil, he had confessed that he was in love with Buffy. He hadn’t said much about it since then, and she hadn’t pressed, partly because she was a little jealous. But watching him, she knew that he would be good for her sister, if Buffy would ever give him a chance. As she watched Spike’s face become gloomy, Dawn knew that if she didn’t do something soon, he was going to start sulking, something which was not of the fun, and was to be avoided. She rolled her eyes at him before asking him to tell her another story. “Yeah?” Spike looked inordinately pleased at her request, a fact which did not escape her. She smiled slightly before replying, “yeah.” “Well, did I ever tell you ‘bout the time I fought my first slayer?” He suddenly stood and turned toward the front of the crypt. Dawn stared at him, confused, before she heard the sound that had alerted him. “Bit, think the Slayer’s here. Better get your things.” Dawn grabbed her bag and stuffed her homework into it. She had come over for help with her history, figuring that there was no better person to ask than someone that had lived for over a hundred years, but they hadn’t gotten very far before they both became bored and Spike had began telling her stories. She had just finished gathering her things when the door opened, revealing Buffy. “Oi! Close the door, pet. ‘M a bit flammable here!” Spike raised his eyebrow when the slayer stepped into his crypt and closed the door behind her without saying anything. He had expected her to yell at him right away about having Dawn over, or at least to say something snarky about him going up in flames. Come to that, she hadn’t crashed his door open as was her habit. She’d actually opened it slowly, almost cautiously. “Dawn,” she said in a low tone, “Mom’s worried about you. You have got to start coming right home after school.” “But—” “No buts. I’m not…” Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not saying that you can’t come over here. I can’t stop you, God knows I’ve tried. But you have to come home first. I don’t want Mom to worry.” Dawn frowned. She hadn’t thought about her mom worrying over her, she had just wanted to spend time with Spike, and no one ever let her do that. Eyes widening, she caught the rest of what her sister had told her. “What? Do you mean it? I can come over here anytime?” “No,” Buffy said firmly. “You can’t come over here instead of going to school. You can’t come over here right after school.” Buffy ticked off each point on her fingers, frowning slightly. “You can’t come over here at night. Um… Did I cover everything? Oh, you can’t come over without letting mom or me know.” “But I can come over? You’re not going to stop me?” Buffy sighed. She really didn’t love this, but Spike had been a lot of help lately. And sure, he might not tell the best stories, but as much as she hated it, Buffy knew that as the slayer’s sister, Dawn had already seen more than most adults, so what could it hurt, really? Besides, after what she had just accidentally overheard—face it, there was no ‘accidental’ about it, you were eavesdropping, her mind insisted—she knew the two of them enjoyed each other’s company, and as crazy as it was, she trusted the vampire to protect her little sister. “No, I’m not going to stop you,” she finally answered. “As long as Spike wants you here, anyway.” Spike stared at the slayer, stunned. Who was this girl? “’S fine with me, pet,” he managed to get out. Buffy nodded before turning back to Dawn. “Go home. I’ll follow you in a minute.” Dawn nodded giddily and rushed to hug Spike, who patted her awkwardly on the back, before she threw a giant smile towards Buffy and practically danced out the door. Spike gazed at Buffy contemplatively. “So, pet, is this the part where you threaten to stake me good and proper?” Her face impassive, Buffy met Spike’s eyes before quirking a little smile. “No, Spike, this is the part where I tell you that mom wants you to come for dinner.” Spike’s jaw dropped before he could control his reactions. Quickly recovering, he pasted a smirk on his lips and prowled to Buffy. “You sure it’s not… You that wants me there?” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her hand, his lips widening into a true smile when she shivered a little before stepping back. “Spike…” Her voice was a little hoarse, and she coughed. “I… I’m just delivering a message. From my mom. Not me. She wants you there. I don’t get it, but she does.” “But… If you didn’t want me there, you wouldn’t have told me, yeah? Admit it, Slayer. You want me.” Her eyes widened and he covered by adding quickly, “There. You want me there. Don’t you?” Buffy rolled her eyes before spinning on her heel. “Come at sundown, Spike. We’re not waiting,” she called over her shoulder. Stopping at the doorway, she turned and faced him again, grinning. “And if you really do have it, I think we’d all love to see the pics of Angel.” Once again, Spike was left gaping at her as she turned around to leave. Bloody hell, he thought. She heard. How much did she hear? Did she hear Li’l Bit talk about how I’d do anything for her? About how I’m Love’s Bitch? “Oh, and Spike?” Spike’s eyes snapped back up to hers, a slightly panicked expression marring his features. “Yeah?” He asked with more than a little trepidation. “No more telling my sister about eating families. No matter how much you exaggerate their size.” With that, Buffy left the crypt, pulling the door closed behind her. Bugger. She knows. She has to know. Wait. She knows. She knows, and she didn’t stake me. Spike’s eyes lit up, hope rising in his still chest. Didn’t even ask for the bloody crumb, and she’s givin’ it to me. Maybe this thing isn’t as hopeless as I thought... Wonder what I should wear tonight? With that thought, the vampire dropped down to the lower level of his crypt, dreams of Buffy filling his head. FIN *** A/N Whew! This is the first short I’ve ever written. I had lot’s o’ fun writing it, I hope you guys enjoy!