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Chapter 16


Spike entered the latest apartment they’d acquired, shutting the door behind him as he peered around the spacious penthouse styled apartment. Darla always insisted on posh dwellings.


'Gotta have her luxury, the spoilt bint.'


“Anyone home?” he called out, but got no response.


Shrugging, Spike headed into the living room to drop the books on the table. He’d been researching anything with a mention of Slayers he could get his hands on to the point where both Darla and Dru called him obsessed. He was pretty certain he’d learnt more about the Chosen Ones in the last few months than even the Council knew.


His gaze widened slightly when he looked at the plush beige carpet now covered in dirt suspiciously looking like footprints. It seemed he forgot to take off his boots. Again. Darla was going to kill him this time.


'The chit’s worse than Martha bloody Stewart.'


He’d have to clean it up before they came home or Darla would have him by his balls. And it wouldn’t be pretty.


With a sigh, Spike headed to the bathroom to retrieve detergent and a scrubber before he slipped out of his leather duster. He’d had it since the great Earl Abbington bit the dust under his hands, earning him quite a reputation. One look at the duster hanging over an antique armchair and Spike had known he had to have it. It had called to him somehow. It was battered and old. It had character. It was a trophy.


Putting the duster on the sofa, Spike knelt down and set to cleaning up his mess.


Just as he was finishing, the front door crashed open, and he heard Darla and Dru stumble in giggling like mad. Before either one of them could spot the detergent and scrubber in his hands, he quickly hid them beneath the sofa and rose to his feet.


Darla waltzed in and stopped, leveling him with a penetrating stare. He suppressed a flinch and instead smirked at her.


“So… how was your evening? Anything interesting happen?”


Darla sniffed at the air and Spike watched her closely. “Do I smell… detergent?”


Spike rubbed the back of his neck. “What? No. Why would you… I mean… yeah. Uh… the cleaner chit was here earlier so that’s probably it. Anyway,” he clasped his hands together and approached her, “love the hair.”


If there was one way to avoid Darla’s not-so-pleasant side and derail her attention elsewhere, it was by complimenting her.


Predictably, she smiled and patted her hair. “I got a new haircut today.”


'Good guess, Spike. Crisis averted for the time being.'


“It’s gorgeous, pet. And where’s Dru?”


Darla frowned. “No idea. She was right behind me when I got in.”


They heard something crash in the bedroom and glanced at each other before following the sound. Spike had to chuckle at the first sight of Dru. He couldn’t help it. In her haste to change clothes she somehow got stuck, and both her head and one arm were half sticking from the neckline of her new blouse. Her hair was all askew as she moaned pitifully.


Spike went to help her out and together they managed to get the clothes and Drusilla’s limbs all into their proper place.


“There now. All better, yeah?’


Drusilla grinned and twirled. “Do you like it?”


“It’s stunning. You look like a princess.”


She smiled at him and batted her eyelashes before swaying her way towards Darla.


“So what did you do all day? Reading again?” Darla asked him.


“Maybe,” he said sullenly.


“Ah, Spike. Maybe you should find another hobby for yourself. You’ll never take this Slayer out.”


“Took out Abbington, didn’t I?”


“You did, and we’re very proud of you but the Slayer is… you find one, you move on to wreak havoc somewhere else. You get to live longer. And this one is rumored to be out for blood. She’s pretty no nonsense about it from what I’ve heard. I bet she’s got the butch look to complete the image.” She smiled at him slyly. “Is that what turns you on?”


Spike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, gets me all hot and bothered it does. Jealous?”


“Nothing to be jealous about.” Darla encircled Drusilla’s waist. “I’m just giving you a good advice. After all, I have lived much longer than you.”


“I’m not afraid of anything. Not like you.”


“That’s what’s going to get you killed one of these days. Why can’t we just go somewhere else? I’m getting tired of this place. We’ve been here for almost a year. It’s getting boring.”


“Not until I get to fight her.”


Darla squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to regain her composure. “If I’d known you’d be this stubborn I would never have let Dru sire you.”


Spike grinned. “You keep saying that, but we both know it’s not true.”


Darla huffed and narrowed her eyes. “William.”


She only called him that when she was frustrated with him. It only made him want to tease her.


Spike closed the distance between them, winking at Drusilla who was playing with Darla’s hair and said, “Bear with me just a bit longer and then we’ll go wherever you want. I promise… Grandma.”


She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well… if you’re not dust by then.”


“I’m too stubborn to die, aren’t I?”


********

They sat in the living room, Spike studying the books and making notes while Darla and Dru lay sprawled along the length of the couch with their feet next to him. They’d been driving him to distraction the last hour. Whatever the reason, every time the two of them came from shopping slash killing spree, they’d get all content and girly. Must have been the combination of new shoes and the satisfaction only a good kill could bring.


Spike never felt satisfied. He envied them.


Drusilla kicked him in the thigh for the hundredth time and he growled. They both laughed at his reaction, whispering something he couldn’t hear.


'Women!'


“I’m trying to work here, so would you two turn it down a notch?”


Drusilla pouted. “Our Spike is all grumpy.”


“That he is. Must be the sexual tension,” Darla said.


They both giggled again and he clenched his jaw. He tried to avoid their little games as often as he could. The only time he’d ever had sex with them was when they attacked him after a hunt. When the adrenaline was so high, the demon couldn’t be contained and it naturally submitted to his Sire and Grandsire. They really enjoyed making him submit. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but he’d always thought it’d be somehow special. To share something so intimate with another person. With someone he loved.


For them it was nothing but passing the time when bored. Inflicting pain. Sating the need. Sex always went hand in hand with violence and bloodlust to the point where it was impossible to separate them. And they hadn’t above slipping something into his drink to make him do what they wanted.


He never drank around them anymore.


They used him for his body, and his demon couldn’t care less because in a way he used them too. But the human part of him he shielded inside felt violated. Resigned to lifetimes of never knowing what it would feel like to really make love to someone. To be caressed with intimacy.


He chanced a glance in their direction and shook his head. They’d somehow managed to rip the new clothes off and Darla was biting Drusilla’s breast, pinning her arms to the couch as she forced her into submission. Their naked bodies gleamed under the obscure light as they rubbed against each other, biting each other’s lips and moaning before focusing their yellow eyes in his direction.


His body responded to the sight and he turned away, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. Darla liked to gloat every time he gave in to his demon and let them have their way with him. She said that one day they’d seduce him even when he wasn’t in the post feeding frenzy or under the influence. They were beautiful, all pale flawless skin, slim bodies and round breasts, but one thought of Buffy and bitter self-hatred would flood his entire being.


What would she think of him if she were alive and knew he’d betrayed her like that? That he was so weak he couldn’t control his demon long enough to resist the call of his family?


Letting out a shuddery breath he glared at them, gathered his books and locked himself in one of the bedrooms.


********


Sitting on the damp ground for so long would probably get her sick even if the sun was shining down on her. Still Buffy didn’t move. It’d been one year from the day William died, and he had no proper grave for her to put flowers on. It bothered her. The mere idea of what could possibly have happened to William’s body made the blood in her veins run cold. It was better not to think about it.


She traced the sloppy inscription of William’s name on the makeshift wooden cross she’d made by herself. It was hidden beneath a tree behind Giles’ apartment and nobody bothered her here. She could mourn him in peace.


Buffy’s life had fallen into a boring routine in the last year. If one could call slaying demons on a regular basis boring. She’d stroll through the nights hunting down anything evil only to fall asleep when the sun’s first rays illuminated the sky. The irony of keeping a vampire’s schedule didn’t escape her.


Giles was pretty much clueless when it came to her extra slaying nocturnal activities. Maybe because he was already deeply asleep by the time she sneaked out of the apartment for the second time. Faith knew though. But lucky for Buffy, Faith seemed to understand and kept it to herself. Sometimes she even went along. She was a decent fighter, quicker and stronger than a regular human but not even close to Buffy’s level. Apparently, Faith was something called a potential Slayer and in a way, it made Buffy feel even closer to her.


It was nice to have company, someone to talk to. Faith had been subtly-- or what passed as subtle in her mind—trying to nudge Buffy back into dating. Kept saying Buffy needed a rebound even though the idea of it repulsed her. The memory of the stranger’s lips upon hers those few months back was enough to turn her off.


Giles had gone to meet with the Council, and Buffy was sure he was hiding something from her. He thought she didn’t notice how he hastily ended his calls every time she entered the room. It had something to do with the Aurelian vampires, Buffy just knew it. He’d been dodging her questions ever since he first told her about them--always making up excuses on how they moved too fast for the Council to be able to pinpoint their location.


Preventing her from seeking them.


It was probably nothing and her suspicions were ridiculous. He wouldn’t keep something important from her, would he? The only reason she could think of was Giles’ fear of her getting killed, so he kept their whereabouts obscure.


She had her hands full as it was, but if a word got to her that they were close, all bets would be off. Not even Giles could stop her from hunting them down.


A hand clasped her shoulder and Buffy looked up.


“Your butt’s gonna fall off if you sit here any longer,” Faith said.


“Nah. I haven’t been here that long.”


“You’ve been sitting here for three hours, Buffy.”


Buffy frowned. “I have?” Faith offered her hand and Buffy took it, letting her friend yank her to her feet. “Guess time does fly by when you’re having fun.”


Faith let out a sigh then tilted her head. “I’ve found something in Giles’ cabinet. You know what they say… when the old cat’s gone…”


“Let’s raid Giles’ liquor storage?”


“You know me so well.” Faith dragged Buffy towards the apartment and shook the bottle of scotch in her hand. “Look what I found.”


Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”


“Come on, B. Even you deserve to let go sometimes.”


Buffy bit her lip and looked at Faith’s hopeful expression. “Fine. But only a little.”


'What could possibly go wrong?'


TBC