Chapter 13: Norman Rockwell it isn’t

By midnight the temperature had begun to rise and the snow had started to melt. Spike came downstairs to find the girls in the hallway arguing.

“What’s going on? What are you lot up to?”

Six pairs of eyes turned to him.

“Um... arguing?” Sam said with a grin.

Spike chuckled. “About what?”

“Slayage.”

He shook his head. “I’m old, you’re going to need to be more specific than that.”

“To be or not to be,” Erica said.

He winced at the famous line being spoken with her heavy American accent.

“Should we stay or should we go?”

He winced again and put up his hands. “Enough. I get it. And my answer is no. Until the snow clears and until we have a bit more information, we stay in. No one’s going to be wreaking havoc tonight. Besides, there are no innocent humans out there for the demons to torment.”

“He’s got a point,” Chantal said.

Six pairs of mooning eyes focused on him and he squirmed a little under their admiration. He simply wasn’t used to this amount of admiration from his natural enemies. It was damn disconcerting.
“Poker,” he said. “Let’s play poker in the parlor.”

“Sounds great!” Asia said. “I’ll get some snacks.”

“I’ll get the poker chips and cards,” Sam added.

Within minutes, the girls were running off in all directions to change into PJs and get their poker playing good luck charms. Spike’s charm took that moment to pounce on his feet and entwine herself around his legs. He bent over to pick the kitten up and he scratched her behind the ears.

“Hello, Pumpkin. How you feeling tonight?”

“I see you have a fan club,” a voice said from behind him.

Spike turned and saw Giles and shrugged. “Cats like me, always have.”

“I wasn’t referring to the cat,” Giles replied dryly. He gestured to the stairs. “I was referring to the slayers.”
Spike’s eyes widened and his right brow cocked up. “Didn’t set out for that to happen.”

“Definitely something about this new generation of slayers that we hadn’t foreseen.”

“And what’s that?”

“Their attraction to vampires.”

“Ensouled vampires,” Spike pointed out. “There’s a difference.”

Giles took off his glasses and wiped them absently. “True, but Buffy started feeling something for you before you got the soul.”

“It was the circumstances,” Spike said. “She’d just crawled her way out of her own grave. She wasn’t herself. She could relate more to me than to the rest of you lot.”

Giles nodded. “She thought she came back wrong.”

“She came back different. Dying does that to a person.” Spike shrugged.

Giles glanced to the staircase where the slayers had gone. “And how do you explain this admiration they have for you?”

“I’m dead sexy, I am.” Spike grinned.

Giles actually chuckled. “I’ll never understand it.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you to.” He slapped him on the back. “Wouldn’t want you getting any ideas, Rupert. You’re too old for me, mate.”

Giles looked affronted and spluttered. “But –“

Spike shook his head. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about. Something about this so called new generation of slayers.” Quickly he told Giles about the conversation he’d had with Sam.

Giles looked concerned and glancing around, he stepped into the den and closed the door. “I’m glad you’ve brought this to my attention. I’ve been tracking such incidents.”

“So it’s becoming an issue,” Spike said.

Giles nodded. “It is. I haven’t figured out where it’s stemming from. Past slayers haven’t been so fatalistic. Oh, they’ve all been to a certain extent – it goes with the job. Into every generation a slayer is chosen-“

“I know the drill, Rupert.”

“But now, with this surplus, with all the slayers, there is an added sense of futility. A sense of, ‘why bother’ – there are literally hundreds more where they came from.”


“They aren’t special anymore, not unique.”

Giles nodded. “It’s a completely modern phenomenon.”

“And you end up with the slayer who doesn’t leave the house, doesn’t train, doesn’t slay anymore because she figures she doesn’t need to.”

Giles stared at him.


“You think I wouldn’t notice?” Spike asked in surprise. “Why do you think the PTB sent me here?”

“I wanted to ask you about that,” Giles interjected. “Do you know what happened to Angel? With the news of your return, the Council was curious. We try, as you know, to keep tabs on the two of you.”

Spike looked away and cleared his throat. “Dust. That’s the last I saw of Angel.” He glanced up the stairs as he heard the footsteps. “I hear my harem coming back and I’ve got to win some of their hard earned Council cash off of them.”

“So you’ve graduated from playing for kittens?” Giles asked with a smile.

Spike grinned and cuddled the kitten, giving her another scratch behind the ears. “Yeah, now I just play with them. Be careful, Rupert. You might start to like me despite yourself!”

Giles burst out laughing and walked away, leaving Spike smiling as he waited for the girls to arrive.

***

Standing on the porch the next evening, Spike stared out at the swamp that used to be their yard.

“What a mess,” he muttered.

“You should see the basement,” Willow said as she stood next to him in the falling dusk. “Xander’s down there now with Dawn; they’re mopping up the training room floor. It’s like the Great Flood down there.”

“And out here,” he replied.

“That’s what happens when an evil genie decides to make summer twenty-four hours after the dead of winter.”

And that’s pretty much what they guessed had occurred. They’d woken up to a balmy seventy degrees and the temperature had just continued rising as the day progressed. They’d been forced to open windows and turn the furnace off and air out the house. Spike had stayed well out of any beams of sunlight and had watched Mother Nature’s turmoil from a safe distance. By nightfall, most of the snow had melted, leaving lakes and rivers of flood water. Thick fog had settled over the city where the hot moist air collided with the cool air of the melting snow.

Willow wiped her brow. “It’s got to be ninety degrees.”

He glanced down at her shorts and tank top. “Pretty unusual for March I imagine.”

“Breaking all the records, so they say on the news.”

“They offer any ridiculous explanations?”

“Severe global warming.” She grinned.

Spike shook his head. “They’re as as bad here as they were in Sunnydale.”

“They can’t know.” She shrugged. “Imagine what would happen to society, to civilization, if everyone suddenly realized that the supernatural actually existed.”

“Speaking of the supernatural, do you ever hear from Oz?” Spike asked.

She nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he’s a professor now at Berkeley. Whenever he visits the east coast for a conference or a musical festival, he stops in for a visit.”

“Never thought to switch back to his team?” Spike asked with a grin.

Willow smacked him in the arm. “No! I’m a one woman kind of gal, Spike.”

He shrugged. “Just checking.”

“He usually comes to New York for some comic book festival as well, so you’ll see him in June.”

Spike looked pensive as he stared down at the foot of water in their yard and the rushing stream that had once been their street. “If I’m here in June.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you be?”

He gestured to the yard and the sinking city. “If any of us are here. If this genie doesn’t drown us!”


“We’ll figure it out.”

They stood in silence, staring.

“Sorry to change the subject, Red,” Spike said.

She looked over at him.

“Do you think the slayer is getting better? Is she ready to leave the house?”

Willow nodded. “You’ve made incredible strides with her, Spike. I haven’t seen her this happy since, well since she was sixteen and was dating Angel.”

Spike stiffened. He didn’t enjoy the comparison.

“What was it like?” she asked softly. “In the end, when Angel – when the two of you – died?”

He looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. “We were fighting, side by side, with Gunn and Illyria. We did the best we could. Then the dragon came and we fought it, and then as Angel and I took the dragon down, there were two demons with stakes, they knew what they were doing. We bought our tickets to the great hereafter.”

“Except you got a respite and sent back,” Willow said and Spike’s palms began to sweat.

“Yeah,” he said, striving to sound cheerful.

“What about Angel?”

He looked away. “What about him?”

“Did he get a second chance?”

What the hell was up with the Angel questions all of a sudden? Spike forced himself to look at her and lie. “How would I know? Not like the poof and I got to see each other after the big dusting.”

She looked thoughtful. “Hmm...I wonder. I should look into it. If you got your respite, then maybe Angel got his.”

Oh Christ, Spike thought to himself. This is not good!

“I think the PTB were pretty done with Angel,” he said casually. “After all the Wolfram & Hart fiasco, I think he’d run out of get out of jail free cards.”

She nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Forcing himself to relax, he turned back to the house. “Well then,” he said casually, trying to pretend that that last bit of conversation had never happened. “If you think she’s ready, I’m going to see if the slayer would be up for an evening stroll.” He looked back at the flooded street. “Or an evening swim.”

***

“No,” Buffy said firmly.

“Now come on, pet,” Spike encouraged. “It’s just a short walk. Around the block. It will do you wonders.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Wonders? Do me wonders? Who kidnapped my lover and replaced him with a demon?”

He grinned. “I am your demon lover and don’t you forget it. Now come on, do this for me.”

“No and I mean it!” She shook her head. “Don’t push this, Spike!”

“Buffy,” he said and her head shot up and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Don’t ‘Buffy’ me –"

“Listen,” he continued, as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You’re ready. You’ve trained, you’re sleeping better, you’re eating more, and you’re ready to do this. And we aren’t going to be fighting any demons, we’re just going for a walk around the block!”

Buffy felt the panic clawing at her chest. She gritted her teeth. “I said no!”

He shook his head. “Fine, then you leave me no choice.”

“What do you mean, no choice?”

“But to do this!” he muttered. Before Buffy knew what had hit her, Spike’s fist collided with her face. Pain exploded behind her nose and her eyes, blinding her. She reeled back, shocked at his strength, realizing in that moment that he’d been playing it safe with her and holding back his power when they fought.

“And this,” he added as he delivered another punch to her side. He shook his head. “What is it about you slayers and leaving your right side wide open?”

Buffy gasped and fell to her knees as the world spun around.

“You left me no choice, pet,” Spike said sadly.

Before she could protest, Spike swept her off her feet, threw her over his shoulder, and marched out the front door.

He carried her down the steps as the other slayers, Giles, and Willow gathered to watch worriedly from the sidelines. Buffy was in too much shock to protest, he’d driven the air from her lungs so there was no way that she could yell at him anyway.

“When will you be back?” Willow called out.

“We’ll be back when I’m damn well bleeding ready!” he yelled over his shoulder as he strode down the walkway, through the open gate, and out onto the sidewalk. He turned to his right and kept walking, at least until he felt they were at a safe enough distance. Then he stopped and set Buffy back on her feet, keeping her steady with strong hands and watching her carefully.

“Now, Buffy, I’m sorry I had to do that, but I was done waiting for you to get a grip. We need a leader and we need the slayer. Time to wake up,” he said, staring down at her.

Her face was pale as a sheet and she didn’t take her eyes off him to look around.

“How are you feeling, pet?” he asked more softly.

“Shitty,” she whispered. “Terrified.”

He nodded. “Good. Now look around and see that there is nothing shitty or terrifying about. Well, other than the huge puddles and what appears to be the Amazon running down Elm Street.” Spike hoped and prayed, as he looked up and around, that he was right and there weren’t any demons waiting to pop out and ruin his plan.

Buffy took a deep breath and lifted her head and turning from him, she glanced around. Trees, with their leafless branches, reached up into the dusky sky. The streetlights were on, and in the many windows of the residential area, she could see lights turning on and the flashing blue gleam of TV screens.

All normal.

She sighed and bowed her head.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

She nodded. “Getting there.”

“Good,” he said. “Now give me your hand and we’re going to go for a stroll around the block and get back before Red puts a locator spell on us.”

Taking Buffy’s hand in his, they began walking slowly up the street. To anyone watching they would have resembled a young couple out for a romantic evening stroll. It felt strange to Buffy to be walking hand in hand with him. There was no danger, no demons to slay, no vampires waiting around the corner. There was no cemetery or patrol they were headed to. There was nowhere for them to go but for a walk.

“Have we ever done this?” she asked.

He looked down at her. “Done what?”

“Gone for a walk just for the sake of going for a walk.”

“Never had time to, love, there was always a big bad to slay. Besides, I don’t think you would ever have gone for a walk with me if I’d asked. Hated my guts, remember?”

“Not all the time,” she said softly. She tightened her grip on his hand.

He grinned, remembering the few good times they’d had. “Yeah, maybe not all the time.”

“This is nice though,” she said. “We should have done this.”

“We have the time to do it now,” he replied, broaching the subject. “Now that you aren’t the only slayer.”

She glanced up at him. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Just that you aren’t the only one and you don’t have to do all the work now, you can share the burden.”

“I’m still the slayer,” she said angrily. As soon as she saw the smile spread across his face, she knew she’d been had. “You bastard.”

“It worked. I got you to finally say it. Buffy, you are still the slayer, the source of all their power. Their inspiration. You shared your power to save the world. That makes you more special than you ever were,” he said earnestly.

She stopped and stared down at their clasped hands. “I was just so tired of being the only one. It cost me so much.”

“Angel,” he said stiffly. “Riley, your mom, Tara, Anya.”

Buffy looked up at him. “You.”

He looked down at their clasped hands. “I’m still here, always was a glutton for punishment.”

“Love’s bitch,” she said with a small smile.

Smirking, he said, “Yeah, that’s me. It’s a balancing act love. You are still the slayer, their King Henry the Fifth giving the Saint Crispin day speech and all that. You know, all that we few, we happy few, we band of brothers hoorah stuff. But, you can share some of the burden. Don’t think though, that in sharing that burden, you’ve ever lessened your own importance.”

“But what if I want to?” she asked suddenly. “What if I don’t want to be important? What if I don’t want the burden at all? What if I want to just be a normal woman? Live in the suburbs, have a husband, a baby?”

Spike froze. This was new. Take the girl for an evening stroll all normal Norman Rockwell like and she gets strange ideas.

“You want a husband? A baby?” he asked, sounding like he was strangling.

“I’m just saying.”

He tugged on her hand, continuing their walk. “You’ll never be a normal woman, Buffy. You were not a normal girl, and you will never be a normal woman. You are the slayer. Deal with it.”

“I’m trying,” she murmured.

“Locking yourself up in your house and pretending to be a secretary is not dealing with it,” he replied dryly.

“I’m trying now,” she said.

He looked down at her. “And look, we walked the whole block. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

“It’s you that’s working, Spike,” she said softly. “You’re giving me my life back.”

As he led her up the steps and back into the house, Spike had to wonder at which point he would not be able to give her what she really wanted. Was it possible that he would end up right back where he started?

A round of applause greeted them when they stepped into the house. Buffy stopped and Spike took a step back, allowing her her moment. She looked at her family, Willow and Giles, Dawn and Xander, and her slayers. They stood there in the hallway, bathed in the light from the crystal chandelier, smiling at her, glowing in happiness.

“Are you done?” she asked with a smile.

Willow walked over to her and pulled her into her arms. Over Buffy’s shoulder, she shot Spike a grateful smile. Her eyes sparkled with tears.

“We’re done, if you’re done,” Willow said to Buffy.

Buffy hugged her back tightly. It felt strange, but also familiar to be in Willow’s arms, to be hugging from a place of hope and faith and not a place of weakness, need, or despair.

“I’m good, Will,” Buffy whispered. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“I’d wait forever if I had to,” Willow murmured.

Buffy grinned and stepped back. “Thankfully we didn’t have to wait that long!” She looked around the circle and realized the incredible power that she had standing in that hallway – in front of her and at her back. “Now, let’s find this genie and see it through.”

“It’s what we’re always here to do,” Dawn hummed. Xander glanced down at her in horror.

“No singing! No more singing demons! Please!”

The Scoobies burst out laughing while Spike simply paled and the slayerettes looked on in confusion.

Buffy shook her head. “Long story,” she told them. “And one for another night.” She took Spike’s hand and started down the hall to the kitchen. “Now let’s get something to eat and figure out how we’re going to take out this genie.”