Future Imperfect by Lilachigh

Chp 4 Inheritance

Billy Summers came into the room and glanced across at his twin sister.

“You OK?” the thought flashed into Joyce’s head and she replied in the same silent way.
“Yes.”
She and Billy often spoke like this to each other, without words. They’d done it when they were babies and couldn’t speak properly and now it was just second nature. But they’d both learnt to conceal this ability from grown-ups.

Their mom and dad had got very upset when they guessed what they were doing. Joyce knew their parents now thought the twins had ‘grown out of it’, as if getting taller made any difference to what she and twin did.

“Billy – ” Buffy held out her hand and her grandson wriggled onto her knee, hitching up his pants which were in danger of sliding down over skinny hipbones. “How did you know Joyce was a witch, sweetheart?’

Billy smiled up into the hazel-green eyes above his head, his own clear and innocent. “I don’t know, Grandma. Seemed kinda obvious, I suppose. She could do all these really neat tricks and there were books in the basement that explained a lot of things. So I told Twin what she was to stop her getting upset because she thought she was being bad.’

Buffy flashed Spike a quick glance. The vampire’s rapport with his grandson had never been has absolute as that with Joyce. She knew the reasons. The little boy might look like Spike, but he’d inherited very little of the vampire’s character. He seemed a sunny, sweet-natured child who could charm the birds off the trees if he chose.

“So could his great-grandmother,” Spike had growled once when they were discussing the children. “As long as he hasn’t inherited too much else from that side of the family.”

Now Spike was staring at Billy, a frown on his face. “Can you do magic, too?”

Billy shrugged. “It’s boring. All Twin does is snap her fingers and anything she wants appears. It gets us in all sorts of trouble. We had to hide the lion cubs in my room until she could send them back to Africa. No, I like making things. You should see my model aeroplanes, Granddad! I’ve done them all from kits. They’re cool.”

He tactfully didn’t add that quite often when the house was empty, Joyce would make the planes whirl round his room, the little propellers spinning, the jet engines roaring.

“Billy’s a poophead,” Joyce said scornfully. “All he wants to do is hang out with the boys at school and play baseball. Him and Dad are always playing catch in the yard. That‘s boring!”

“T’isn’t!”

“Tis!’

Buffy let Billy slide off her lap and stood up. “Ok, kids, bed time. It‘s too late to talk about this any more tonight. Tomorrow, Granddad and I will explain a lot of things that you need to know.”

‘They want to talk about us,‘ Billy said inside Joyce’s head as they clambered up the stairs to their room.

‘Guess so. They’re old; they don’t think as quickly as us.’

‘Did you tell them about the weird lady with the painted face?’

‘No. They wouldn’t understand.’ Joyce crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head. She wasn’t scared, but she hoped the strange woman wouldn’t find her here at Granny’s house. It was a long way from home. Perhaps the magic wouldn’t reach this far.

Downstairs, Buffy reached out her hand and Spike flung himself down on the sofa next to her. “Bloody hell, pet! What the heck’s going on with those two?”

Buffy groaned. “They were communicating without talking. I could sense it. I did that once with Xander and Willow. I thought it was a Slayer thing, but Joyce isn’t a Slayer. I would know if she was.”

Spike wrapped his arm round her thin shoulders and hugged her. “Well, sweetheart, I’ve got no idea what Billy is, but he isn’t a Slayer, either!”

“He looks just like you.”

“So, he’s cursed with the family good looks! Still doesn’t make him a Slayer.”

“Maybe he is just a normal little boy.”

Her beloved vampire pulled a face, got up and wandered out into the kitchen to heat some blood in the microwave. He’d refrained from eating in front of the twins so far, but knew he couldn’t hide what he was from them for long. Tomorrow would be a difficult day. How would they react when they were told he was a vampire?

Spike swallowed a mouthful of gore. How exactly did you tell two eight-year-olds that their grandfather was a vampire? Was Buffy going to explain about the Shansu prophecy and what it meant to them all? How the bloody hell could they understand when he didn’t really get all the implications himself?

Buffy had followed him into the kitchen. Gently, she touched his shoulder as he stood gazing out into the dark, wind-filled yard. “You’re worrying about telling them, aren’t you?” she said. “You’re not that bothered about Joyce’s powers or what Billy might be, are you? It’s more than that.”

Spike shrugged. “We all know Joyce is a witch. What did Red call her? - ‘the most powerful witch she’d ever met’ and she hasn’t even started developing her abilities yet. If that’s even half true, then I reckon she’ll cope with whatever we throw at her about witchcraft and Slayers. But vampires – ”

He tossed the empty blood packet into the bin and restlessly opened the back door and strode out into the moonlit yard, desperate for the feel of the cool night air.

“Spike – ”

He whirled round. “Don’t you see, pet? Shanny has them carrying stakes in their pockets and they both wear crosses round their necks. They don’t know what they’re for yet, but tomorrow you’re going to tell them. And the first thing they need to know is that their grandfather used to be one of the evil undead and that it’s only a poxy prophecy that’s stopping them or anyone else from being able to turn me to dust if they had the chance.”

Buffy cupped his face between her hands and ran her thumbs over his cheekbones, tracing the line of his mouth, easing the frown line between his eyebrows.

“I know it’s going to be difficult,” she said softly. “But they’re not stupid kids: they sense something is different about our family. I think they’ll be happier when they know. Children don’t like secrets. I remember when Dad left, Mom didn’t tell me for ages. It was all, “oh he’s away on work’ and ‘he’ll be home next week’. I knew it wasn’t the truth and not knowing was even worse than when they eventually told me they’d separated.”

Spike kissed her palm as it slid over his mouth. God, his girl was still so sexy. All these years and she could still make his body sing with joy and anticipation.

“Bloody hell, Slayer. I’ll let you do all the talking tomorrow. Your speeches are much better than mine. It’s a pity in some ways that we never had to tell Shanny. We’d have a better idea of just what to say to the twins. But she just grew up, watching and learning. Do you know, pet, I don’t even know when she saw her first vampire staked…..”

… The graveyard was cold. Shanny Summers shivered as she sat under a bush. She was six years old. Birthday Girl said the sticker on her T-shirt. She hugged the stuffed pig that Mommy had given her. He was cute. But she wouldn’t give him a name because her toys often got lost or left behind when they had to move fast. It wasn’t so sad if they didn’t have names.

There’d been a party earlier. No kids came. She didn’t know any.

She shivered again. She’d forgotten her jacket and Mommy would be cross. You had to ‘always be prepared’, but Shanny wasn’t sure ‘xactly what those words meant.

There’d been cake and ice-cream. Lots of people had patted her head and said how much she’d grown and then stood in groups talking to each other about ‘the battle’ and ‘the second front’ and ‘the big board’.

Uncle Andrew had played dolls with her for a while, but then, just before she got to blow out the candles on her cake, someone had rushed in, shouting, and he’d had to go on a ‘patrol’ with Mommy and Daddy.

She was supposed to have gone to bed but it was her birthday and she wanted Mommy and Daddy to watch her blow out the candles! So in all the confusion, she’d slipped out of the room and followed them. But she’d forgotten her jacket and Mommy would yell.

She knew she had to be quiet. She was always a good girl and quiet because if you weren’t the monsters came and ate you all up.

Mommy and Daddy and Uncle Andrew and another big man had come into this graveyard. Mommy and Daddy were there, a little way away, but they didn’t know she was under this bush.

And even as she watched, the ground in front of her heaved, the earth breaking away in great lumps. She shrank back, wanting to yell for Mommy, but remembering that you must never scream.

A big thing came clambering out of the ground and then another. Their faces were all lumpy and bumpy and they’d seen her and their mouths with great sharp teeth were coming towards her and Mommy and Daddy came running - Daddy’s face was all lumpy, too - they were kicking and punching and she was holding dear pig so tight it’s head tore away from its body as Shanny Summers, six years old, watched her parents thrust wooden stakes into the monsters’ chests and their dust drifted down through the leaves and settled over her where she stayed, not screaming, still hidden from view, knowing now that the monsters would always find her…

….“I think she was about ten,” Buffy said, frowning. “Killing vamps never seemed to bother her, did it? She’d heard all about Slayers and the Prophecy and Hellmouths by then. I just think it’s a shame she hasn’t told Joyce and Billy.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow, love. We’ll find a way to make them understand and not be scared.”

Spike wrapped his arms round her and they stood, gazing up at the moon as it sailed between the clouds. And upstairs, a little girl twitched and turned in her sleep as a dark woman with a painted face appeared again and beckoned with a bony finger for her to follow….


To be continued