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Knowing and Watching by slaymesoftly
 
Three
 
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Chapter Three

After some advice from the concierge on which clubs seemed to be most likely to lose guests from time to time, they went out into the relatively balmy night air and headed for the first club on their list.

“How do you want to play this, love? If we go in together, it’ll be obvious you’re with me, and as soon as the bitty bads get close enough to realize what I am, they’ll back off.”

“I know,” she pouted. “I was looking forward to dancing with you, but I guess I’d better stay away if I want to catch flies with my honey.”

“I find any flies touching your honey – they’re gonna wish you’d staked them…” he growled, pushing her ahead of him towards the entrance to the club.

Buffy’s laugh tinkled back to him as she dazzled the bouncer with her smile and easily gained access to the noisy club. She left Spike outside to find his own way in, and quickly melted into the crowd of pleasure-seekers. She got herself a drink and began to walk around the room, smiling when spoken to, but not stopping to talk to anyone. Very few of the patrons looked like they were young enough to be high school, although there were some who appeared to be college-aged.

She finally settled on to a bar stool and nursed her drink until she felt the unmistakable tingle that said ‘”vampire.” She turned her head slowly, as if scanning the room for someone, seeking the source of the vibes. She saw Spike’s bright head at the far end of the bar, but quickly dismissed the tingles coming from his familiar signature. Failing to find anything else remotely vampire-like, she turned back to her drink, only to be startled by the presence of someone on the stool beside her.

“Eeep!” She grabbed at her drink, which she’d almost knocked over in her surprise.

“I’m sorry,” the shy-looking young man next to her said hurriedly. “ I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, it’s all right. I just didn’t hear you walk up. It’s so loud in here…”

They exchanged smiles, then Buffy went back to her drink, flicking her eyes at Spike to be sure he hadn’t moved. They drank quietly for a moment, then her seatmate said uncertainly, “I couldn’t help but notice that you were looking around the room. Are you meeting someone?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yes, one of my friends was supposed to meet me here tonight. It’s why I came to this club. But I guess she must have found something else to do…”

“That’s too bad. But, hey! Maybe it’s lucky for me. I don’t know anyone in here either. We could…maybe…keep each other company?”

Buffy met his innocent gaze and tried to hide her dismay. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and yet, he was setting off her slayer radar. Not in the same way that Spike did, but definitely alerting her to his lack of humanity. She remembered what Spike had said about the Mayor’s son and studied her companion a little closer, noting his normal pink coloring and nervous sweat. She rested her hand on his just long enough to pick up on the fact that it was not as warm as hers, then took it back quickly.

“I’d like that,” she said with a smile. “I feel really uncomfortable sitting in a bar all by myself.”

“Would you prefer to move to a table?” he asked eagerly.

Buffy nodded and followed him to a small table at the back of the room. She glanced at Spike again, relaxing when she felt his eyes on her. As long as he knew where she was and could see her, she wasn’t worried that he’d give them away by tearing through the crowd looking for her.

After an hour of desultory conversation, during which Buffy was sure they were both lying through their teeth, James – for that was the young man’s name – suggested that since neither of them seemed to be the type for loud clubs, they might want to go down the street to a quieter restaurant that he knew about and have a late supper.

Completely bored with what was not happening where they were, Buffy readily agreed and stood up. She glanced at the bar and saw that Spike was already on his feet and moving towards the door. Smiling, she allowed James to steer her outside and onto the sidewalk. There was no sign of Spike, but Buffy could feel him nearby.

She and James strolled down the walk, Buffy keeping enough distance between them that there was no chance he would take her hand or put his arm around her. She knew her mate too well to expect him to let something like that slide, and she didn’t want poor James to be terrified. Although he was clearly not all human, he also seemed to be harmless and lonely, and Buffy didn’t want to cause him any unnecessary harm.

Not until they came to an alley and he tried to turn her into it, anyway. When she balked, mentally re-evaluating her opinion of him, he hung his head and shuffled his feet, saying, “It’s safe. I promise you. It’s just that the restaurant is at the other end of this alley and I thought it would be easier on you with those high heels to take a short cut. We can walk around the block, if you’d prefer.”

Ashamed of what she’d been thinking, Buffy blushed. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. It’s just…where I come from, walking into an alley with somebody you just met – male or female - isn’t a very good idea.”

“Well, I’m sure I’m safe,” he said with a smile. “No one as pretty as you are could possibly be dangerous.”

Buffy smiled weakly and nodded, not sure that she hadn’t heard a choked laugh from the rooftop above them.

They’d gone only a third of the way down the alley - which Buffy was surprised to notice was actually pretty well-lit - when a soft sound behind her alerted her to another presence. She whirled, ignoring the gasp from her companion, to find a boy who looked to be no more than fourteen or fifteen smiling at her. As several other boys dropped almost soundlessly to the pavement, she smiled with satisfaction.

“Hi, guys!” she said in her best “blonde” voice. “I was hoping you’d show up.”

A few of the smarter young vampires frowned at this unusual display of fearlessness, but most of them just broadened their grins and let their fangs show. If they were aware that their world now contained something called a “Slayer”, or that said slayer lived only a few hours away by train, it didn’t seem to have occurred to them just yet. They moved to surround Buffy, shoving her companion to the ground when he tried to protest, but making no attempt to bite him. Buffy looked over her shoulder at James and hissed, “Run, you idiot!”

She turned her head back in time to see the boy, now right in front of her, grin at her escort and wave his hand.

“Yeah, you’ve done your part,” he sneered. “Run away now.”

Buffy didn’t have time for anything but a disappointed glare at the cowering man before she had to concentrate on the much-too-cocky vampire now running one hand up her arm and saying with exaggerated bravado, “You’re so pretty, I might just keep you.” Had it not been for his distorted face and the fangs, it would have been laughable to see a boy his age coming on so strongly to an obviously older and uninterested woman.

Buffy rolled her eyes, and without bothering to quip, landed an uppercut to his jaw that sent him flying back into his friends. Still not realizing what they were looking at, two equally oblivious boys jumped her at the same time. Buffy ducked their well coordinated attack at the last second, allowing them to collide with each other; and, while they were recovering, she pulled the stake from her waistband and plunged it into first one, then the other.

Before the dust was settled, she had spun into action against the remaining vamps, using her feet and the stake to whittle down their numbers. The two suspicious ones that had held back whirled to escape, only to find another vampire blocking their way.

“Get out of the way, asshole!” one shouted, shoving Spike’s chest. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“Don’t think so, mate,” he replied, catching the offending hand and gradually bending it backwards. “Slayer’s not done with you, yet.”

His other arm shot out and clothes-lined the second young vampire, sending him to the pavement with ease. Still holding on to his first victim, he continued to apply pressure to the now-screaming boy’s wrist until Buffy, who had dusted all the others, said quietly, “Spike, quit playing with them and just do it.”

“You’re no fun, Slayer,” he grumbled as he pulled a stake from his pocket and put the boy out of his misery. He yanked the other one off the ground, but before he could dust him also, Buffy said, “Wait!”

She walked up to the terrified boy dangling from Spike’s hand and studied him for a minute. Without his game face, he looked like any other middle or high school boy, maybe a little paler than you might expect from one living in a resort town, but pretty normal-looking. She cocked her head at him.

“Do you know who I am?”

“I know what you are,” he snarled. “We were warned about you.”

“Really? You were warned?” She smiled. “That’s kinda cool.” She twirled her stake. “I guess you didn’t listen, then, huh?”

“We didn’t know…nobody said you could…”

Spike came to his rescue. “Nobody told you the Slayer would be a little girl who could kick all your arses without mussing her hair? Seems like they left out some important information.”

The boy nodded, becoming hopeful as the two very strong adults facing him seemed more interested in talking to him than staking.

“Who warned you?” Buffy asked abruptly. “Who told you I was coming?”

If anything, the boy’s face became paler and he shook his head vigorously. Even the shake that Spike used to rattle his teeth couldn’t change his mind. It was obvious that there was something or someone that he feared more than he did the certain death in front of him.

“Give me an hour or so, pet,” Spike said with a growl. “I’ll get some answers out of him.”

Buffy shook her head, shocked to see what seemed to be tears standing in the boy’s eyes.

“We don’t torture children,” she said, lifting her stake. “We’ll find out some other way.” As the stake plunged toward his chest, the boy cried, “Tell my mother I lo--”

His dust floated down to join the rest of the group’s remains, leaving only Spike and Buffy standing in the alley. Spike’s ears could pick up the sound of James’ feet as Buffy’s would-be date fled the scene as fast as he could. He made note of the direction in which the strange man had gone, but his immediate concern was the girl standing in front of him.

“You all right, pet?” he asked anxiously. “You know that wasn’t really a kid, right? The demon in there has probably been around for a long time.”

“I’d like to make myself believe that, Spike. But you know what things are like in this world. That boy wanted us to tell his mother he loves her. These aren’t normal vamps. They’re kids that some jerk has turned into monsters and I want to know who did it and why.”

The melancholy that had been so evident just seconds before was gone and in its place was the narrow-eyed determination with which Spike was only too familiar.

“We’ll find him, love,” he assured her. “There’s something more going on here than just a bunch of kids making bloodsuckers out of each other.”

They started walking, continuing in the same direction that Buffy and James had been going, but they saw no more vampires, young or old, and eventually returned to their hotel.

The concierge looked at them hopefully, smiling when Spike gave him a thumbs up sign, then held up his fingers to indicate how many vampires Buffy had staked. He insisted that they take a bottle of the hotel’s best champagne up to the room with them, assured them that housekeeping would respect the hours they would be keeping and that no one would come in to clean the room until well after 2:00 in the afternoon, or later.

“I could get used to this,” Spike said, swinging the bottle by its neck and holding the elevator door for Buffy. “I think the best thing about this world – other than that you’re here, of course – is the way they know how to appreciate me.”

I appreciate you,” she pouted, then wrinkled her nose. “And, anyway, I earned that champagne, not you. All you did was stop them from leaving. I’m pretty sure that’s my bottle.” She made a playful grab for the bottle, which Spike was now holding up in the air. Instead of jumping for it as he expected, Buffy slid her hand up his thigh and grabbed the immediately responsive body part resting there.

“You’re cheating!” he complained even as he pushed into her hand and lowered the bottle so as to put both arms around her.

They jerked apart when the elevator door opened to admit another couple. Buffy and the other woman exchanged brief smiles; then faced the front until the doors opened at their floor. With a nod, Spike waited for Buffy to exit the car, then he followed her out with a swagger.

“You’re impossible,” she grumbled, trying not to smile at his cocky smirk.

“Hey, wasn’t me grabbing at someone’s dangly bits. All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Their banter came to a halt as they saw the figure slumped before the door of their room. They were just quick enough to catch a glimpse of the fire door closing at the end of the hall, and Spike immediately sprinted to the end of the hallway, bursting through the door and listening for steps to tell him which way the assailants had gone. Footsteps, too soft and rapid to be human, went in both directions, leaving him to snarl in indecision. He came back from the fire stairs shaking his head and paused where Buffy was leaning over a bleeding Johnny.

“Not human, Slayer,” he growled. “They were too fast for that. Probably could have caught up or tracked them, but I--”

“No!” she interrupted. “You did right to come back. I don’t want us getting separated here until we have some idea what we’re dealing with. Help me get him inside,” she added, picking the semi-conscious boy up and swiping her key. Spike took the boy from her and carried him into the room, placing him gently on the bed.

“His heartbeat’s fine,” he said, assessing the visible damage. “If they were trying to kill him, they didn’t do enough damage to leave the corpse I’d guess they were hoping you’d find.”

Buffy grabbed the first aid kit that was always in her bag, and began to clean and bandage the wound on Johnny’s neck. The expression on her face did not bode well for the health of his attackers, and Spike stepped back to admire his woman. Competent, caring and more than capable of avenging the damage done to their new informant, she quickly had the bite wound cleaned and bandaged and was holding a glass of water for the boy to drink.

“Come on, Johnny,” she coaxed. “You need to replace those fluids.”

His eyes fluttered open, widening in fright until he realized who was holding him, then gratefully gulping down the offered drink. When he’d drained two full glasses of water and a small amount of color had begun to return to his face, Buffy allowed him to slump back against the pillows. His eyes closed again, his chest rose and fell smoothly and easily while Buffy frowned at him.

“Do you think he needs to go to the hospital?”

Spike shook his head. “I think he’ll be okay, love. Gonna need a day off work probably, and some good hearty meals, but I don’t think he needs transfusing.”

Buffy bowed to Spike’s hundred years of knowledge about how close to death a human could come and recover -- without allowing herself to really think about how he had become such an expert. She’d only known him as the helpful companion who had been forced to join her in this strange world, and rarely thought about his many years as a lethal predator before he’d met and been tamed by her other self.

“Okay,” she said dubiously. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” he said shortly; no more interested in reminding her of why he could be so certain than she was in hearing it. “Lock the door behind me,” he instructed, moving towards the exit. “I’m going downstairs to tell his boss what happened and that he won’t be at work for a while. Maybe he’ll have some ideas about where we should look for the--”

He was interrupted by a knock on the door, and moved quickly to stand behind it as Buffy said, “Who is it?”

“It’s…it’s me. James. From the club?”



 
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