Chapter 14




Nine days.


Nine whole days had gone by without word from Spike, and Buffy was sick and tired of twiddling her thumbs.


She’d drilled Willow repeatedly about where he was, but all the redhead had said had been that it was normal for Spike not to have contacted anyone. He needed time to himself. Right! Because Spike always preferred being alone to shagging her.


William kept trying to get her to relax, but that only became harder to do due to the sense of dread the blonde kept getting from him on the few instances his control over the mating bond wavered. The two had all but given up talking out loud when there was nobody else around, and she knew William was just as worried as she was, if not more.


They found solace in each other often, with a passion meant to compensate for the absence of their lover. Their couplings were desperate, almost furious at times, reminiscent to both of them of another sad, dark time. What differed was that now they could both see the love that bound them together. They could feel it in every scratch mark, every bite, every hard thrust, and it didn’t scare either of them any longer.


They started both snuggling up on one side of the bed every night, leaving the other empty in secret hope that Spike would somehow be there when they woke up.


For nine days their hopes had been shattered.


Buffy stretched in her lover’s arms, her hand automatically seeking the mattress for the second vampire, and once more finding nothing but the cool sheets.


*I have to do something* It was a musing, but William heard it clearly and tightened his hold around her waist.


*What do you have in mind?* He knew trying to disagree with her would get him nowhere. He’d felt this moment coming, knew the point where Buffy would decide she could no longer wait for life to happen was near.


Unlocking his arms from around her, she got out of bed. Not lazily, the way she usually did after shedding her tension through a series of sexual positions only achievable by superhuman beings—and acrobats—but in one fluid movement. She felt like a bundle of nerves, and radiated it to William, who could sense anticipation, anger, and a weird elation flowing from her subconscious.


“I go to him,” she said, bouncing on her toes to get her skin tight, low-cut jeans on. She didn’t have to clarify whom she was talking about.


The first time she’d mentioned it was right after Giles had informed them of the Immortal’s demands, but they’d all rushed to change her mind. Her emotional state was making her vulnerable to him, they’d insisted, and she’d agreed to give it some time. William had known even then that there was no way she’d wait until Spike was back to confront the man who’d messed their lives up so much and meant to toy with them some more.


He nodded. “Today?”


“Now.” She started buttoning up her shirt.


William was out of bed and in his own pair of jeans within little more than a blink of an eye.


*Going somewhere?* Her voice in his head sounded dead serious.


He just looked at her, eyebrow arched.


“Not with me, you’re not,” she said sternly.


He opened his mouth to protest—fighting without sound was not much fun—but she cut him off. “He’s not going to harm me or try to keep me there. He wants me to be with him willingly, that’ll be his victory. You are a different matter.”


“Bloke doesn’t rightly have a grasp of willingly, does he?”


She let out a bark of laughter. “I guess me making the choice is all he wants.” She shrugged. “If he wanted to do it another way he’d have done so after granting my wish.” Her voice went sultry as she went on. “I mean, I was in bed. Naked…”


Pulling his t-shirt over his head one-handed, he wrapped his free arm around her and brought her flush against his body. “But you weren’t alone, kitten.”


She cupped his face and kissed him gently, sending him the only thought that might reassure him; the only thought that reassured her. *I won’t be alone now, either. Ever again.*


He let her go, reluctantly.



~~~~~*~~~~~



William hated this whole thing. Not being with Buffy or Spike—that he loved. He didn’t even mind the Scoobies now that they were all grown up and not intent on messing with the Slayer’s happiness. What he hated was the choices at hand and—even more—he hated that he had to be the reasonable one.


A few years ago he would have gone to the Immortal’s place, guns blazing—well, fists and fangs, at least—and torn the pillock apart for daring to mess with his loved ones, or would have died trying. A few years ago he’d have said sod all, and done what he felt should be done. A few years ago… he was Spike. He’d made the decision not to be that vampire, that man, anymore when he thought all was lost. That had seemed the best way to make amends, to drive away his demons who kept blaming him for the loss of everything he loved.


Now he had a family again. And responsibility. He had to always think ahead, he had to anticipate, guess, prepare, fix…


God, he missed the old days. Other than the blood and the mayhem, which still seemed alluring when there was a threat to him and his, he missed thinking on his feet. He missed the fight.


But that wasn’t what his girl needed now.


What she needed was for him to be there and be strong. He could do that for her, he was doing that for her. Maybe once they’d gotten rid of the Immortal and Spike had gotten back to his Buffy to save that other universe, he could get his Slayer and go visit Faith at the Hellmouth. Maybe he and Buffy could take care of patrols; she’d need to keep herself occupied to get over the loss of Spike.


With a sigh, he did the only thing he could for the time being. He started dusting the living room.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow felt wary. Kennedy had been a different person since she got back and it was scary.


She was nice, full of smiles, offering her help with anything from breakfast to research, and not antagonizing anyone. It was simply unnerving.


The first night she was back, Kennedy had told Willow she realized they both needed time to heal, and that she’d give her some space. The brunette had even apologized to her for their fight and promised to try her best to be more understanding, if only the Wiccan would give her a chance. Willow was so blindsided by that, she couldn’t respond with anything more than a weak OK. The scariest thing was that Ken seemed to really mean it. She’d been flirty since, but spent nights at The Manor, with the younger Slayers. And she was… mellow, something the redhead had no idea how to handle.


Giles seemed confused by his charge’s transformation too, although he was obviously way more pleased than Willow. Kennedy had become prompt with her training sessions, didn’t try to bait him, and seemed genuinely concerned with the whole Spike matter.


All in all, she was a new and improved Kennedy and Willow felt ungrateful for not being happy but instead filled with dread every time the girl beamed a smile at her or did something nice.


Like now, for example. Why on earth was she washing the dishes? And grinning?


The redhead looked around frantically, trying to catch the eye of anyone who saw things the same way. Giles was too absorbed by his reading material, Xander was replacing the screws on the cupboard door that had given way and made the whole thing lopsided, and Dawn was looking at him, occasionally making playful comments about him being her knight in shining armor.


Letting out a dejected sigh, she stood up and said to nobody in particular, “I’ll be upstairs. I—I have some research waiting for me.”


Dawn was the only one who showed she heard her. “I’ll come help,” she offered.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy stood outside the iron gates and took a deep breath. *Signal still clear?*


*Crystal, kitten.*


*I’m going in.*


She could hear his sharp intake of breath even from so far away. *Go. I’ll be here, like a good little wife,* he tried for a joke.


Blowing him a kiss in her mind she placed her index finger on the buzzer, her body taut as if she was expecting an electrical current.


Bleep.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Okay, what’s the deal with psycho-Slayer?” Dawn asked before even closing the door behind her. “Have you been giving her extra sugar, lately?” She pronounced sugar as sugah, making Willow laugh despite herself.


“Nope. There has been no giving of sugar. Extra or otherwise.”


“That’s weird.” Dawn pounced on the bed, making the springs bounce under her weight. “She seems über-happy.”


“I know!” The redhead was dizzy with relief. “She’s all… Stepford-y.”


The younger girl giggled briefly, then turned suddenly serious. “You know, Wills, I never really liked her, but I don’t think I’d have liked anyone with you after…” Tara’s name remained unsaid. Seeing her friend nod with understanding, she went on, “But if she makes you happy… Well, we all need some of that lately, don’t you think?”


“She doesn’t—”


“Oh, thank God!” She exhaled dramatically, wiping imaginary perspiration off her forehead for effect. “I feel like Donald Sutherland when she’s around. I keep expecting her to start pointing and going eeeeeeeee!”


Willow rolled her eyes. “You, Miss. Summers Junior, are a riot.”


“I know. I was born this way.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Seriously, now, what’s up with Kennedy? This whole perky act is scaring me. Even Xander noticed.”


The Wiccan shrugged. “I don’t know, Dawnie. It’s weird, and I think we should keep an eye on her.”


“Can it be my eye?” Both girls startled as Xander entered the room.


“I mean,” he went on like he’d been part of the conversation from the start, “-she just offered to make me coffee. We’re talking Bodysnatchers stuff!”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy was led to the gardens, where Adalberto waited for her, an elaborate late lunch spread out on the table in front of him.


“It is good to see you finally decided to visit me, Buffy.” His pronunciation made her name sound like an unknown word. “Will you join me?”


“I didn’t come here to eat, Adalberto. We have a score to settle.” Her voice was icy, but he didn’t seem the least bit fazed.


“Have you not heard of combining business with pleasure?” he asked innocently. His eyes glowed when he added, “Your business, my pleasure.” He stood and pulled out the chair opposite his before calling out Sofia.


A girl about Buffy’s age appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of wine and the blonde had to make an effort to bite back a gasp.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Spike lay motionless on the dirty floor, concentrating hard on finding one square centimeter of his body that wasn’t in pain. His throat felt raw, he was losing pints of blood from wounds he was sure he wouldn’t stay conscious long enough to count, and he was willing to bet he’d broken more than a couple of ribs.


Using strength he didn’t know he had left in him, he filled his lungs with air—braving the pain—and bellowed, “The second time around is supposed to be easier, you pillocks. And I don’t mean the transportation part!”


No response came from the darkness surrounding him, so he let his eyelids drift shut again and gave in to the exhaustion that had been flirting with him for days.


The next time he opened his eyes, the all consuming darkness had been replaced by a grey haze. A voice, rough like someone gurgling with gravel, reached his ears. “You have endured the required trials.”


“Twice,” was Spike’s reply—much cockier than he felt. “Now can I have my bloody soul, or will we have to do a song and dance first?”


“Your soul?” The demon’s voice suddenly lost its boom. “We cannot give that which is already taken…” He sounded about as apologetic as something of his species could. “Surely you knew that.”


Spike sprang to his feet, every muscle of his body reminding him why he’d lain still until then. “What are you sayin’?”


“The one who walks this realm as William has the soul he gained. You cannot share that or have another.”


If his fists weren’t already a bloody mess, Spike would have used them on the walls of the cave to let out even a little of the frustration he felt suffocating him. He could be of no use to Buffy—to either Buffy—unless he was whole again.


Or maybe…


“Seein’ as you failed to divulge that little bit of information when you promised anythin’ I desired, mate, I’d say you owe me one.”


The demon looked at him unblinkingly. “What do you want, vampire?”






Tbc.