CHAPTER SIX: All grown up and still whining

Buffy lay on her bed, straight as a board, her eyes wide open and staring. She tried to take a deep breath, but found that her throat was too tight. She felt like she was being strangled. Fear and indecision had a way of doing that. She’d become best friends with the two of them over the last few years. Now, they were her true companions.

She wanted to go to the window and look- at least see him. But she didn’t. She hadn’t been able to go close enough to the door to even hear his voice, although her heart yearned to. She wanted to see him, hear him, feel him and touch him. But she just couldn’t convince herself to reach out to him. To do that would be to open up a whole world of pain.

She was better off without him; had always been better off without him. It’s not like Spike had ever been good for her! My God, the things they had done! The way he’d made her feel! Nothing from that time in her life could have been considered good for her!

Nothing except for those last nights before the closing of the Sunnydale Hellmouth. Those nights, wrapped in his arms, feeling safe and cherished, those times had been good for her. And then there were the times he’d watched out for Dawn; the patrols where he’d fought by her side; that moment in the hallway when he’d told her he loved her. Yeah – those moments had been good for her.

Buffy turned over and faced the wall, blocking out the memories.

It was better when she focused on the darkness in their relationship. It was easier to breathe.

There was a knock on the door and she ignored it.

“Buffy?” Dawn called out.

Buffy closed her eyes. Dawn had spoken to him, she’d touched him, been held by him. Not for the first time, Buffy felt the clench of anger and jealousy in her gut. Dawn’s relationship with Spike had always been easier. There had been this father-daughter, sister-big brother thing between the two of them that had been easy and natural. Buffy had fought it, tried to break that closeness and while it had certainly been tested and tried, Spike’s love for her sister had always remained true and uncomplicated. Buffy knew that Dawn, like Joyce, had always seen past the demon to the poet inside. Something Buffy had never, ever been able to do.

How had Spike put it? She needed the monster in her man? Dawn had only needed a friend and Spike had always been that for her. What Buffy had needed from him had been more complicated.

“Buffy?” There was a rattle as Dawn tried the door.

It was locked.

Buffy heard her sigh and then her sister walked away. And somewhere, deep inside what was left of Buffy’s soul, she wished that her sister had busted the door down and reached out to her.

***

Spike tucked the fuzzy tabby kitten under his arm and smiled at the gang of demons sitting around the poker table. The weather might be worse and the food might be better, but Spike was happy to see that some things, like kitten poker, were the same everywhere.

“Gentlemen, if you don’t mind, I’ll keep this one.”

Xavier, a distant cousin of Clem’s who shared the same disfiguring skin condition, grinned. “Aah Spike, but he looks so tasty.”

Spike grinned. “Exactly. I’m saving him from the likes of you. Besides,” he said, gently stroking the kitten’s soft fur. “I know someone who’ll take good care of him.”

The other demons grumbled as they left the table with their less tasty looking winnings. Xavier held back.

“I sent an email to Clem to let him know you’re alive. He’s thrilled, said he’d make his way here for a visit.”

“Grand,” Spike said. “Where is he these days?”

“Cleveland. Nice and friendly there, since the slayers cleaned house a few years back.”

Spike sniffed. He’d heard about the crackdown and shutdown of the Cleveland Hellmouth. In fact, it had been Willow who’d taken him through that particular history lesson. From Cleveland, Red, the Bit and Buffy had headed to Buffalo, Giles back to London, Andrew was in Boston and Xander split his time between there and Buffalo.

All cold and dreary places.

Apparently demons had developed a fondness for Northern cities after the Sunnydale meltdown.

“It’ll be good to see him again.”

Xavier nodded and stood up. “I’ll pass that on to him and we’ll get in touch.” He gestured to the kitten. “Sure you won’t change your mind?”

Spike shook his head, not even looking up. “No.”

Xavier grinned, shrugged, and then left.

“Spike?”

Spike looked up, expecting to see the witch standing in front of him, and then he realized she was in his head.

“Red,” he muttered back silently. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” she replied, sharply. “You did it to me – in the dead of night.”

“I’m a dead creature of the night,” he snapped back. “What other time was I supposed to do it?”

“Come to the house,” she said. “We have a plan.”

He shook his head, and then realized how that wouldn’t translate over these particular communication channels, he replied. “Not at the house.”

He literally heard her sigh.

“Fine, there’s a small all hours café on Pine St., Navaeh. Meet us there.”

“Us?”

But she was already gone.

***

Spike strolled into the café with the kitten tucked into his tuque and hidden beneath his coat. The cat was asleep, warm and comfortable, out of the elements and feeling secure in the arms of the vampire.

Said vampire spotted Willow right away. She was sitting at the back table, facing the door. At her side was an army of slayers and Spike, although used to the company of slayers, still flinched. There was a lot of power at that table, and as ancient enemies, soul or no soul, Spike had a hundred year old history that reared its ugly head at that moment. He gave himself a shake and strode to the table.

“Ladies,” he said as he looked down.

“Spike!” Dawn called, pulling out the chair next to her.

Spike noted the slayers all shifted uneasily. He didn’t miss the sharpened gazes, the hands that reached for weapons and patted pockets.

“Relax, ladies, en-souled vampire remember,” he said as he flipped the chair around and straddled it. The kitten gave a sharp cry and dug its claws into his side. “Ouch,” he muttered, shifting.

The slayers stiffened and reached for weapons.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Relax, I’ve got no weapons hidden here. It’s a kitten.”

Dawn grinned even as the slayers’ eyes widened.

“Saved the kitten from a poker game didn’t you?” she asked.

Spike nodded. Then he glanced around the table, his gaze landing on Willow. “Okay, Red, what’s the plan?”

As she outlined the plan, Spike listened closely. He actually waited for her to finish and then, he looked her right in the eye.

“No.”

She gaped. The slayers shifted and glared at him.

“No? Just like that?”

He nodded. “Just like that. I’m not putting the Bit in danger. No way.”

“Spike…” Dawn protested.

He glared at her. “All grown up, Bit, and still whining. Well, some other things haven’t changed in ten years. I’m not putting you in danger.”

“Spike,” Willow began. “The only thing that could possibly get Buffy out of the house would be Dawn in danger. We occupy the other slayers so that she can’t dispatch them and she’s forced to go out and save Dawn.”

Spike stared at her. “How do you know she won’t think you’ve orchestrated this to get her out of the house? She knows I’m here, she’ll be expecting something like this.”

Willow looked away and Spike was immediately suspicious. He glanced around the table and none of the slayers would meet his eyes. Finally he pinned Dawn with his steely blue stare.

Dawn reached over and took her hand in his. He heard one of the slayers mutter something about vampire lovers under her breath, but he didn’t even bother to look over.

“What is it, Dawn?”

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “Spike, what Willow is trying to say is that Buffy isn’t really with it enough to think about us orchestrating anything.”

“What do you mean? Exactly.”

She looked down. “Since you came by the other night, Buffy hasn’t left her room. She isn’t talking to anyone. “

“And you haven’t forced her?” he asked incredulously. He looked at each one of them. Not one of them could meet his gaze and he cursed. “Bollocks! The whole lot of you should be ashamed. What are you afraid of?”

“She’s the slayer and she’s – she’s unhinged.” Chantal said. “That’s dangerous.”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up and he cocked an arrogant smile at them. “Dangerous? You’re bloody slayers. And you’re afraid? Of another slayer?”

“She’s unpredictable,” Erica said softly.

“And,” the blonde with the dreadful hair said softly. “I’m afraid of hurting her.”

Spike stared at them. “And this – this is how we’ve gotten to this point. To the point-“ his voice rose steadily as he spoke – “to the point where you’re willing to put Dawn into the hands of some flesh eating demons in order to force Buffy to action.” He pushed the chair and stood up. The kitten gave an angry mewl. “What happens if it doesn’t work? If Buffy doesn’t get there fast enough? Then we have no slayers and no Buffy to save her.”

“Then you can save me!” Dawn said hopefully.

He looked at her. “Pet, I will always save you. But I will never, ever put you in danger.” The cat kneaded his side and Spike looked at them. Not one of them had the balls to do what was needed. And Spike was realizing that his ego had led him down that same path. He’d wanted Buffy to come to him. He had planned on waiting for her and forcing her to leave that house and reach out to him.

“Bleeding hell!” he cursed, shaking his head. “Waiting for her isn’t the answer. It’s never been the answer. That’s always been our problem. We always catered to Buffy’s whims. Let her call the shots. Let her make the decisions and we simply went along. Where did that get her? Locked up in her own house! Well, for me anyway, the waiting and humoring is done.”

They all stared up at him.

“What are you going to do?” Dawn asked.

“I’m going to break down those barriers. Red, I need an invite into the front door, but after that, leave it up to me. The days of letting the slayer get her way are over.”

He turned and strode from the café, the kitten mewling angrily the whole time. It sort of ruined the macho exit. Willow, Dawn and the rest of the slayers got up, hurriedly tossed some cash on the table and followed. Spike heard them muttering about letting vampires in the house and the dangers therein.

He stood out on the sidewalk and glared at them. “Let’s go!”

It didn’t take them long to get back to the house. Spike was spurred by plain old fashioned anger, and the rest of them followed along; out of curiosity or out of fear, it didn’t matter. They all wanted to see the showdown.

He strode up the porch steps and stood there in the dark, staring at the door. He handed the kitten to Dawn and looked at Willow.

“Okay, Red, open the door and invite me in.”