Chapter Three

Buffy was bored. She’d gone to the Magic Box with the expectation of finding out about some new evil to fight, but Sunnydale had been oddly quiet of late – nothing but the annoyingly random occurrences that seemed to only happen around her.

Anya was prattling on about the Halloween sale the following day, saying the same things about profit margins and stock replenishment over and over and over again. Giles was busy working in his office, and Buffy thought that he had the right idea in staying out of the ex-demon’s way.

Willow and Tara looked just as fed up, but every so often they’d put their heads together to whisper and giggle. Xander looked like he was paying attention to his girlfriend, but his eyes were glazed over.

Buffy was just contemplating heading over to Spike’s crypt and consuming more of his alcohol, when there was a loud crack, and Ned appeared, perched on the counter behind Anya. He grinned at her, and she groaned, putting her head in her hands.

“Buffy?” Willow said, her voice taking on that permanently worried tone she’d been using around her since she’d come back.

“Yeah?” Buffy raised her head to look at her friends, studiously ignoring Ned who was making bunny ears behind Anya.

“Everything all right, Buff?” Xander asked, finally coming out of his stupor, looking glad that something had interrupted Anya’s monologue.

“I’m fine,” Buffy said, attempting a smile. “Really.”

“All right,” Xander looked dubious.

“So!” Buffy said, feigning cheerfulness, “There must be some evil thing out there that needs a good killing. So I’m going to go and do that.”

She stood up and started towards the training room, intent on finding weapons. She was glad to see that Ned didn’t follow, instead remaining seated on the counter. Unfortunately, he was writing in his stupid notebook.

A nice slim dagger and a trusty stake made their way into her pockets, and she pulled on her coat with an air of satisfaction. She may have lost most of her motivation for slaying since coming back from the dead, but anything was better than having to listen to Anya for the rest of the night.

“I’m going to patrol,” she announced, and received various nods of acknowledgement before the Scoobies went back to their own thing.

She frowned. Before… before she had died, her friends had often helped with patrol, and whilst they weren’t the most skilled fighters, it had been nice to have the company.

Nowadays, all she had was Spike, who admittedly was a bigger help, but hello? Annoying! Although she had to admit, he’d been a lot less aggravating lately, quieter and willing to listen to her talk, or just to sit with her in silence. And he was good to get drunk with, and boy wasn’t that sounding like a nice idea right about now?

“Seemed a little tense in there,” came a voice from behind her, and she jumped, cursing herself when she realised that it was only Ned. She hadn’t seen him follow her out the store, but then again with his fancy teleportation tricks, who knew if he even had?

“Mind your own business,” she answered finally.

“You are my business, darlin’,” he grinned. “So, we’re patrolling?”

“I am patrolling,” Buffy said, “you are following me around like an unwanted puppy. What were you writing in your notebook?”

If he was surprised at the swift change of topic, Ned said nothing and simply handed her the book. Buffy smiled inwardly. Only a day since she’d met him and he already knew not to mess with her.

5. Resentment towards friends for resurrection plot
6. Antipathy towards calling

She handed him back the book in silence, and carried on walking towards Restfield.

“What, no snarky comment?”

Buffy shrugged. “It’s true. I do resent them for bringing me back and I’m so not feeling connected to the Slayer side of me right now.”

“At last!” Ned shouted, and did a little jig on the spot. “She agrees with me!”

“I still think numbers two and four on your list are flawed,” she said.

“Yeah?” Ned smirked, “So why are we off to visit ol’ Spikey then?”

“We’re not, I’m patrolling!” Buffy protested, then looked around sheepishly. They were standing a few feet away from Spike’s crypt.

“What?” she said defiantly, as Ned shot her a knowing look. “This is a cemetery. Evil stuff happens here.”

“And your resident evil is on his way over,” Ned replied, melting back into the shadows.

“Huh? Isn’t that a video game?”

“Is what a video game, Slayer?” Spike’s deep voice intoned from behind her. She whirled around to see the bleached vampire leaning nonchalantly in front of a statue of an angel, the way he was standing making it look as though the wide stone wings were attached to his back. And wasn’t that ironic?

“Er… nothing.” Mentally, she cursed Ned. He was going to make her look as insane as Drusilla before very long.

“So, what’s up? We goin’ patrolling?” Spike pushed himself away from the statue and came to stand beside her. Buffy could clearly see Ned’s bright green and red plaid pants reflecting in the moonlight, but Spike didn’t notice him at all.

“I’m going patrolling. I guess you can tag along.” Buffy pulled her stake from her pocket and set off.

“Nice to be wanted,” Spike said, following behind her.

“Want? There’s no wanting. Nuh-uh.”

Spike eyed her dubiously, a smile in his voice. “Whatever you say, Slayer. Whatever you say.”

***

The following day was Halloween, and despite Ned’s encouragement, Buffy flat-out refused to wear a costume. She, along with all of the other Scoobies, had been pulled into helping out at the Magic Box, and Anya wanted them all there bright and early to help set up. Joy.

Ned was nowhere to be seen for the majority of the day, for which Buffy was thankful. Working retail on a major holiday was stressful enough, but having to put up with an annoying Imaginary Friend would put her stress levels through the roof.

Giles had her on bagging duty, and the work was monotonous and dull, but strangely soothing. The day passed in a blur of bright colours, candy and costumes and when Dawn flipped the ‘closed’ sign at the end of the day, it was with a strange sense of accomplishment that she sat down at the research table.

“Good day?” Ned had appeared from nowhere, and was sitting next to her.

Buffy spoke without thinking and nodded. “Not bad, but my feet are killing me.”

“What was that, Buffy?” Giles asked, looking up from the day’s receipts.

Buffy sighed. She had to stop answering Ned when other people were around. She glared at him, but he just rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

“I said, my feet are killing me. What say we head home and leave the clean-up til tomorrow?”

“But tomorrow’s the post-holiday clearance! And a messy store will not encourage customers to give me their money.”

“I could whip up a jaunty self-cleaning incantation,” Willow suggested eagerly, “it’ll be just like Fantasia.”

“Yes, and we know how splendidly that turned out for Mickey,” Giles said, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I agree with Buffy. I suggest we all head home and get a good night’s sleep, then return bright and early in the morning.”

They did a quick clean up of the worst of the mess, then left the store en masse, turning off in their different directions with shouted ‘good night’s’ and ‘see you tomorrow’s’.

“Can we go see Spike?” Dawn asked as they started walking home. “He hasn’t been by in a while. I miss him.”

“I don’t know, Dawnie…” Buffy frowned. She’d known on some level that Spike had helped take care of Dawn when she’d been gone, and that her little sister considered him somewhat of a friend, but she couldn’t really condone them hanging out together, could she?

“Aw, come on, it’s Halloween! The least we could do is go and say hi to a vampire on Halloween.”

“Vamps don’t celebrate Halloween,” Buffy said.

“Spike does,” Dawn pouted, “he told me that he was going to get pissed and watch scary movies. Although why he wants to get angry before watching them I have no clue.”

“Pissed is British for drunk, Dawnie.”

“And you know this how?” Dawn shot her a sly grin, “Been hanging out with Spike a lot?”

“What? No, of course not. I just watch a lot of er… that show. Eastenders.”

“You’ve never watched an episode of that in your life, Buffy.”

“Sure I did! That… one time…” She trailed off. Dawn was giggling. “Oh, shut up. Fine, we’ll go visit Spike.”

She put an arm around her sister’s shoulder and they set off towards the cemetery. Ned followed behind, a satisfied smile on his face.

***

She pushed open the door to Spike’s crypt slowly, more than aware that if she didn't have Dawn with her, she’d have slammed it open without a care.

“Spike? You in here?”

The TV was on, the black and white picture flickering in the gloom, and a couple of candles were lit, but there was no sign of the blond vampire.

“Is he here?” Dawn asked, peering into the darkness.

“Slayer? Niblet?” Spike’s head poked through the hole in the floor, followed by the rest of his body as he clambered out. “All right?”

“Dawn wanted to come by and say Happy Halloween,” Buffy rushed to explain, her cheeks colouring as Spike’s eyes widened. “So here we are. Er, Happy Halloween!”

Spike still looked shocked as he ushered them towards the couch, pressing cans of cold Coke into their hands. Buffy thought how weird it was that a vampire had better manners than some of the people she’d met in the past.

“So then Dean, you remember me telling you about Dean, right? So Dean tells Kirsty that he wouldn’t go out with her if she was the only girl in school, so then Amber gets all ‘oh, you can’t talk about my friend that way’. It was a whole big mess. But way cool to see Kirsty put down like that.”

“Yeah? Bit of a Queen Bee then is she, this Kirsty?”

“Yeah, total bee-yatch,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Hey, did I tell you about…”

Buffy tuned Dawn out. Was this what it had been like over the summer when she’d been gone? Both Dawn and Spike seemed to have forgotten she was even there. She pouted.

A flash of red and green caught her eye and she turned to see Ned sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her. He waved cheerfully.

Buffy looked at her sister and Spike, they were still engrossed in their conversation, but Spike kept flicking sidelong glances towards her.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Ned, pitching her voice low. “No issues right now, so leave!”

Ned shook his head but didn’t say anything.

“Please? Can’t I have five minutes without you appearing over my shoulder?”

He just smiled.

“Buffy?” Dawn’s eyes were wide with worry. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” Buffy answered quickly, sending one last scowl at Ned.

“But you were,” Dawn said.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were!”

“No-”

“All right!” Spike yelled. “Sorry, Slayer, but the Bit’s right. You were talking to someone. Come to think of it, you were doing the same thing when I saw you a couple of days ago. Are you… is everything okay?”

Buffy took a deep breath, cursing Ned and inquisitive vampires.

“There’s nothing wrong. Everything’s fine. Dawnie, I think we should go home.”

Dawn pouted. “But I’m having fun. Spike said that Beetlejuice is on soon… come on, you know you love that movie.”

Buffy sighed. “Fine, we’ll stay.” She sat back on the couch, trying not to notice how little space there was between her leg and Spike’s. When she was sure that Spike and Dawn were immersed in the television, she turned slightly towards Ned, and mouthed, “Not. Another. Word.”

He made a lip-zipping motion and directed his attention towards the television.

***

Buffy yawned and stretched, feeling the muscles in her back pop. She felt comfortable and strangely warm for being in a crypt. She stretched again, arching her neck and wiggling her fingers.

She froze. Wait a minute… She sat up abruptly and blushed as she realised just where her hand had been resting. She slid down the couch a little, remaining silent and kept her eyes away from Spike. She just knew he was smirking.

“Nice nap, Slayer?”

Buffy stood up, brushing imaginary lint from her shirt. “I think it’s time Dawn and I went home.”

Spike shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He leaned over to wake Dawn, who mumbled in her sleep before reluctantly awakening.

“Dawn, we’re leaving.”

Dawn nodded, too tired to make any objections. Buffy quickly looked around for Ned, but could see him nowhere, and so she guessed he’d teleported himself somewhere. Good.

“Bye, Spike,” Dawn said, giving him a little wave.

Spike nodded and smiled. “Night, Niblet, Slayer.”

Buffy was about to turn and leave when all of a sudden she was propelled forwards by a surprisingly strong push to her back. She fell towards Spike, who raised his hands to catch her. She pulled herself back, only to be pressed forwards again, her movements as jerky as a marionette.

“Slayer? Buffy?” Spike grabbed her wrist to steady her, and Buffy felt another hand encircle her other wrist, guiding it around behind Spike and towards his…

“Hey!” She yelled, pulling both her wrists away. “Cut it out!”

Dawn was watching with wide eyes as Buffy seemingly wrenched herself this way and that, her hands hovering in provocative places all over Spike’s body.

As Spike’s face moved between expressions of shock, confusion and lust, and Buffy grew more and more thin-lipped, Dawn couldn’t help but giggle. She didn’t know what was going on, but it was funny.

“If you don’t stop jerking me around right now!” She let the threat hang in the air, not really knowing what she would do to Ned, but knowing that it would be painful.

“It’s not me!” Spike exclaimed, his voice oddly high-pitched.

She heaved a sigh of relief when she felt Ned’s hands drop her wrists, and glared when she heard his disembodied voice. “I bet someone would like you to be jerking something.”

“Argh!” She studiously avoided looking at Spike and grabbed Dawn’s arm. “We’re leaving.”

The crypt door slammed behind them with a resounding crash.

***