Three for a Secret by Lilachigh


Chp 4 Do we have a Plan?


It was odd, Buffy thought as she sat next to Spike on the dusty floor of the Magic Box, what you noticed when you were in shock. Your brain didn’t work, you couldn’t form or speak words and you felt sick, cold and shaky, but your eyes and ears still functioned.

She remembered with clarity that when she’d thrust the sword into Angel, killing him and sending him hurtling into Hell, she’d noticed that one of her fingernails was broken. How ridiculous was that?

When her Mom had died, she’d stood there and heard the drier in the basement dealing with the last load of clothes Joyce would ever need.

Now, when Spike told her he had a half sister lost in some alternative dimension, she was gazing at his black duster, noticing that one of the buttons was hanging by a thread.

She needed to move, to walk, run, do something to break the tension that was tightening its hold on her. She stood up. “And Arabella has known this all these years?” she said at last, grasping the one firm fact she could hold on to.

Spike’s face looked bleak. “I could have wrung her bloody neck when she told me, but she explained that Darla had insisted I’d die if I tried to get Hope back. Rightly or wrongly, ’Bella decided to keep the secret. I don’t know what I’d have done in her place.”

Buffy’s mind went flying back to that weird, champagne fuelled time she and Spike had spent with Arabella and Div’vid at their anniversary party. What was it the vampire had shouted at her when they were fighting? “I can make him happy. I can give him Hope!”

The words made sense now. But why had Arabella suddenly decided to tell Spike about his sister? Buffy gazed down at the platinum head only inches from her hand. She could reach out and run her fingers through the short blond hair and knew it would tangle into a riot of curls. She often did that when he was asleep, after they’d made love.

When he was awake, affectionate gestures like that seemed silly and wrong. She was sure he would laugh at her. After all, their relationship was based on sex, on strong physical feelings, not on tender lover-like moves.

But the temptation was still there. It was overwhelming, knowing that she only had to reach out and he would lazily pull her close, wrap his arms round her, plunder her body but at the same time keep her locked safely from the world in bands of steel.

And she had known Spike how long? And didn’t, of course, love him. What would the feelings be like if you really loved someone for over a hundred years? A love that was never acknowledged or returned, a love that was considered just the normal affection any cousin would show to a close family member?

Arabella had waited. Bided her time, married Div’vid, led a life that, as far as Buffy knew, was happy. And all the time, in the back of her mind was the knowledge that she had the power to bend her cousin to her will.

Buffy admitted she didn’t know a lot about a lot of things; she wasn’t clever like Willow or brainy like Giles. But girls and how some could play games with guys and the guys would never know – well, they were things she could have gotten a great big A for if there had been an exam or even an oral test or one of those magazine quizzes where you have to choose a, b, c or d and –

She realised her brain was repeating rubbish and she was still staring at Spike, not speaking. “Wow – Spike – it’s amazing – a sister. I can’t believe it.”

Spike lit a cigarette and for once Buffy couldn’t find it in her to complain. “I still can’t, Slayer. That little girl – God, how scared must she have been? Her mother slaughtered in front of her and vampires, Darla and Liam, playing games with her.”

“Angel was there, too?” Buffy asked sharply.

Spike looked up, suddenly apprehensive at the tone of her voice. “So Arabella said, yes. But it was Darla’s idea to send Hope into this other dimension. Liam thought she’d just killed her. The last of my family to go.”

“What did she look like, your sister?” Buffy asked softly.

Spike clenched fingers into his hair. “I’ve been trying to picture her face and I can’t! How sad is that, Slayer? My own sister and I can’t remember her clearly. Long black hair – she got that from Celeste, her French mother. Blue eyes. A shy smile. A little girl in a white dress with pink ribbons in her hair. And all I could think about was that she was illegitimate and what an insult that was to mother and me. God, how could I have been such a pompous prick?”

“And you didn’t tell me about Hope because - ?”

He stood up in a swirl of black leather, paced across the room, then whirled round to face her. “Sodding hell, pet. You’re the Slayer! I never forget that. Never! And believe me, I wouldn’t want you to be anything else. I love you for who and what you are. But if I somehow found Hope, somehow got her back here, to our place and time, I don’t know what she would be. Vampire, demon, something completely different. Then you might – you could - ”

Buffy felt ice form in her veins. “You don’t trust me not to kill her?” she whispered. “You think I’d stake your sister? After all you’ve done for mine?”

“Arabella said – ”

“Leave it, Spike!” Buffy flung out a hand, stopping him before he could go on. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. “It’s quite clear. You don’t trust me; Arabella doesn’t trust me. Let’s not talk about that any more. It isn’t important. Do we have a plan? I want to know what you’re going to do next.”

Spike hesitated. He felt that somewhere, somehow he’d put a foot wrong in this conversation, but wasn’t quite sure how. It had all seemed quite clear when his cousin had explained it to him – how they didn’t dare trust Buffy with the information because Hope’s life could be in danger if they did. And, as Arabella had said, it wouldn’t be Buffy’s fault. No one was to blame. It was just the consequences of getting involved with a Slayer.

But somehow, Buffy didn’t seem to be reacting in the same way.

“Arabella has a necklace. Dirty great silver locket thing.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“It’s hollow. There’s a hinge at the back, but we can’t open it. It’s been magiced shut in some way. I don’t want to use brute force in case I destroy it.”

“And you think that the answer to getting Hope back is inside?”

Spike shrugged. “Arabella says she stole the locket from Darla just before she and Div’vid got married. We were all in France – Paris or Lyons or somewhere. I can’t remember. One town looked a lot like another and I think I was drunk most of the time. Arabella was about to go back to England to marry Div’vid. She says Darla got very tipsy one night on champagne cocktails, told her about Hope and explained that the locket held the key to it all. ”

Buffy frowned. “And she didn’t try and stop Arabella taking it?”

The vampire glanced at her and for an instant, the old mischief was back in his eyes. “Let’s face it, pet. Liam was having one of his “let’s tie the girls up for days and torture them while we fuck them” attacks. I was right up for it. God, the things that ponce could think of doing with a pair of pliers and a couple of candles! I think Darla had more important things to worry about than my little newly turned cousin running off with some of her jewellery.”

Buffy tried desperately to thrust the thought of Spike, candles and foreplay with someone who wasn’t her, out of her mind. “So you thought that some of Giles’ books might mention the locket?”

Spike sighed and shrugged. “It was a chance, pet. Didn’t mean for your new boyfriend to catch me.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Buffy said automatically, ignoring the raised eyebrow at her words. “Why don’t you show Willow the locket? She‘s far more likely to know how to open it.”

There was a long pause. “OK. Here or Revello?”

“Make it here, tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll bring Arabella.”

“Jeez, why not issue invitations and have a party!”

“Buffy, I know you and Arabella haven’t always got along but she’s involved in all this. She might remember something else Darla told her that would give Red some more clues.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. Why did she keep beating her head against the “Arabella is a lovely marvellous person” block that existed in Spike’s brain?

“OK, OK, I’ll tell the others she’ll be here. We’ll all be on our very best behaviour.” And she hoped fervently that he couldn’t see she’d crossed her fingers behind her back.

“I’ll get back to Arabella and tell her. I’ll go through the tunnels; I should have come that way to start with. I just wasn’t thinking straight.” Spike opened the door down to the basement, then hesitated, his gaze lingering on her face.

It had been a long time since he’d left Buffy without touching her in some way. A punch, a kick, a kiss, a hand on her shoulder, her hand on his arm. Some touch, angry or loving, but always something. Flesh on flesh, lips to lips. This distance between them made him uneasy. He knew he was to blame, but surely she could understand why he hadn’t told her? Arabella had said she would; that any woman would see the dilemma he was in and sympathise. But Buffy‘s expression didn’t seem very sympathetic.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Buffy said evenly and watched him leave, heading back to Arabella and all the dark hours until the next day. Hours that she could no longer share because his beautiful cousin was there, to comfort and console him.

“Spike has a sister.” She tried saying the words out loud. One part of her was all astonished delight, but fighting to come to the surface was a little ominous wriggle of doubt.

She would never believe that Arabella did anything that wasn’t to Arabella’s advantage. Would she really help Spike bring this child – or whatever Hope had turned into over the years – back into this world? A sister to take Spike’s attention, affection, love?

The little wriggle of doubt became a great surging snake. Did, perhaps, Arabella know in some way that Hope was already dead. Was this whole locket-secret-telling thingy, just a scheme to get into Spike’s life and become all-important to him?

And if it was, why did she, Buffy, care so much that it hurt?

To be continued