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A Mother's Plea by slaymesoftly
 
Three
 
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Chapter Three

While Joyce took some blood from the fridge and poured it into a mug, Spike used the first aid kit to clean the edges of the wound Buffy had given him. He knew it would heal soon, no matter what he did, but he didn’t want to ooze blood all over the Summers’ kitchen. Buffy, dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt, walked in just as he was trying to tie a bandage around his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, avoiding the anxious eyes her mother had turned on her as soon as she heard her daughter’s voice.

“Don’t want to bleed all over your mum’s kitchen, pet. Just trying to stop it.”

“Oh – I did that, didn’t I? I’m sorry, Spike. Here, let me fix it.”

She reached for the bandage, still not looking at her mother’s rapidly crumpling face. Spike put his hand over hers and whispered too low for anyone without vampire hearing, “You could fix it much quicker just by running your tongue over it; but right now I think you need to talk to your mum.”

“My tongue? You mean – lick you? Ewwww!”

“You just bit me and took enough blood to choke a horse! Now you’re going to be prissy about closing the wound? Anyway, you’re just doing this to avoid talking to your mother. I know it and you know it, so quit pretending you’re concerned about me and do what you know you need to do.”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do!”

Joyce watched in bewilderment as her daughter and the vampire clearly carried on an argument is hisses too low for her to catch a word of it. When Buffy continued to glare stubbornly at the equally angry vampire, she finally couldn’t stand it anymore and she gave a small whimpered, “Buffy?”

The Slayer went rigid, then pulled her hand out of Spike’s and turned slowly to face her mother. She could hear her mother’s rapid heartbeat, sense the hot blood rushing through her veins, but relaxed a little when there was no immediate urge to attack or kill.

“Mom,” she said quietly, not moving towards the older woman, but stepping away from Spike.

The vampire watched closely for any sign that his childe was going to be unable to control her blood lust, but Buffy seemed to be completely in control of herself. When she moved towards her mother, he stood up, ready to intervene if necessary. The two women stared at each other momentarily, then Joyce gave into her fear that she’d alienated her only child and collapsed in tears.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t watch you die…It wasn’t Spike’s fault. He tried to talk me out of it, but I made him do it.”

“Nobody makes Spike do anything,” Buffy growled with a sideways glare at the vampire who had sired her.

When Joyce continued to sob, Buffy’s resolve crumbled and she sank down beside her mother, wrapping her arms around the crying woman and hugging her tightly.

“It’s all right, Mom. I know you did it because you love me. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s all right.”

The reversal of their normal roles was not lost on either of them as the adult woman cried and her teen-aged daughter comforted her. Spike maintained an alert posture, but from a respectful distance. Without the blood Buffy had pulled from him when she rose, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop her if she actually decided to attack her mother, but knew she’d never forgive him if he allowed her to hurt the woman.

The Slayer looked up at the edgy vampire and met his eyes briefly while maintaining her comforting murmurs to her mother. The understanding dawning in her expressive eyes told him he could relax. The Slayer’s soul was in complete possession of her body and both her mother and he were safe from her anger.

With a nod, he sank back onto the stool and waited for them to finish their tearful reunion. When it lasted longer than he expected, he stood up and took the mug of blood Joyce had poured for Buffy and put it in the microwave. By the time it dinged, the women were back on their feet and smiling happily at each other and he was fighting a peculiar prickling in his own eyes.

Grumbling about “women and their tears”, the embarrassed vampire took out his blood and returned to the stool, studiously avoiding looking at either one of them. It did him no good to pretend they weren’t there, as Joyce came up beside him and kissed him softly on the cheek saying with heartfelt gratitude, “Thank you, William, for saving my daughter.”

With his body as depleted as it was, he had to struggle not to slip into his vampire face when the warm, blood-filled body got so close to him. He quickly drank his blood, trying not to offend Joyce by pulling away, but worried about his own self-control. To his surprise, Buffy seemed to read the situation intuitively, and she took her mother’s arm and pulled her away saying, “Come help me fix some blood for myself, Mom, and let Spike drink his in peace.”

He gave Buffy a surprised and grateful look, quickly draining his mug and silently holding it out for more. The Slayer removed the new mug from the microwave and handed it to him before refilling the first one and popping it in to warm up.

Another quick guzzle and he was enough in control to sit back and enjoy his third mug of blood while Buffy sipped on her first one. He laughed softly when she wrinkled her nose and made a face at her first taste of pigs’ blood.

“Problem, pet?” he asked with a smirk.

“It tasted better from you,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her admission, but unable to take it back quickly enough to prevent the smirk from growing into a grin.

Spike enjoyed her embarrassment for a minute before taking pity on her and agreeing, “That was sire’s blood, pet. It will always taste better than anything else. And be better for you. Will help you heal if you’re hurt and feel better when you’re…well, not that you’ll be sad about anything…but if you were…”

“So you’re what? My own annoying and fashion-challenged medicine cabinet?” Buffy’s smile took the sting out of her words and he smiled back before continuing.

“Something like that, Slayer. It’s really not in your best interest to dust me. In fact, if I were you, I’d be following me around making sure nothing bad was going to happen to me…”

“Don’t push it, Spike,” she warned, laughing in spite of herself.

They drank in companionable silence for several minutes while Joyce bustled back and forth from one to the other fussing over them like a mother hen until Buffy finally exploded, “Mom! I’m dead – not sick! Relax, will you? We’re fine. Both of us. Instead of worrying about us, you need to think about how you’re going to explain to Giles that I’m not dead. Or, not as dead as he thinks I am, anyway.”

“I…um…I thought perhaps you would do that, dear. I mean, he is your Watcher, and..”

“Oh no. This was your idea. You tell him. And you need to do it before he finds out some other way and tries to stake us.”

“Oh. Oh dear. I hadn’t thought about that. That I would have to explain it to him. And school. What are we going to do about school? It’s in the daytime and you won’t be… oh dear, oh dear.”

Joyce sat down with a stunned look on her face, the full ramifications of what she’d done beginning to sink in. She looked at Buffy with new realization about the way she’d changed her daughter’s life and whispered softly, “I’m sorry. I never thought past my own happiness. I never thought about how it was going to change your life.”

Buffy jumped up and ran to her mother, hugging her again and reassuring her that all things considered, “being undead is probably better than being dead dead. Look, I’ll still be the Slayer – just harder to kill. And I’ll heal even faster. I might even be stronger than before—“ She stopped to laugh at the frightened look on Spike’s face, before going on. “I just have some learning to do – and you’ll have to help me with some stuff – like I won’t be able to see to put on make-up or fix my hair, or tell if a dress makes me look fat—“

A laugh from the vampire that he tried to cover with a cough interrupted her long enough for her to glare at him.

“And Spike’s going to have to teach me all about being a vampire…well, maybe not. I guess Angel knows more about being a vampire with a soul—“

A guttural snarl from her vamped out sire cut her off and both women turned to stare at him in dismay. With an effort, he conquered his demon’s urge to discipline his childe for even mentioning the other vampire and he fought to keep his voice even as he said, “Angel drained you and left you to die. He didn’t even have the balls to hang around long enough to watch you take your last breath.”

“But…but he’s still my…” a quick glance at her mother and she switched the intended “lover” to “boyfriend”, a hesitation that was not lost on either of the other people in the room.

“Buffy,” Joyce said firmly, “You know I’ve never liked Angel anyway, but now…there is no way I will ever be able to look at him and not see your dying, bleeding body. He is not welcome in this house. Ever.”

“But, Mooom.” Suddenly the newly risen vampire sounded just like a girl. “I love him! I mean, I know we can’t be together…but we’re still friends.”

She shot Spike a look, daring him to repeat his “you’ll never be friends” speech in front of her mother, but to her surprise he was looking at her with a mixture of pain and anger. He stood up, putting his empty mug in the sink and turning towards the door.

“I’ll just be going then,” he said coldly. “You won’t be needing me anymore if you’ve got the big poof to show you the ropes. See you around the graveyard, Slayer.”

Without a backward glance, he went out the door, resisting the urge to slam it shut behind him. He was almost to the sidewalk, keys in hand when he saw Giles drive up to the house, a hollow-eyed Xander and Willow in the car. Fear for his childe’s safety being stronger than his anger and hurt feelings, he shrank back into the shadows as the three walked up and knocked on the door. While Joyce slowly opened the front door, Spike ran back around to the kitchen and entered quietly, moving to where he could see and hear what was going on without being seen.

Willow had thrown herself into Joyce’s arms, sobbing her sympathy and grief, while the boy stood by with tears filling his own eyes. Joyce allowed Willow to cry for a minute, then gently extricated herself and gestured to the couch.

“I think you all need to sit down. I have something I need to tell you.”

“We know,” Xander choked out. “Giles already told us. Angel killed Buffy. We always knew he would someday.”

Joyce just pointed to the couch again and said with some asperity, “That is not what I need to tell you. Please, sit down and let me explain.”

When they were seated and looking at her expectantly, she began with some trepidation.

“Angel did…kill…Buffy. But before she died, I asked a friend to help me save her.”

She saw the Watcher’s eyes darken with horror as he began to fear what she was going to say next. He surreptitiously slipped a stake from his pocket and held it loosely in his hand, causing Spike to give a muffled growl as he saw the movement from his vantage point in the hallway.

He heard a whisper of sound behind him and saw Buffy coming slowly down the stairs. She entered the living room and gave a little wave saying shakily, “Hi, guys.”

 
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