Santa Claws  by  Lilachigh
 
 
Chapter 7  Morning Blues
 
  
 
 
Buffy watched the sun come up the next morning from the  porch steps, remembering all the times she’d done this same thing in her life.  Late in from slaying, or out with Angel, fighting some demon, worrying about her mom and Dawn, too tired to go to bed, too weary to think.
 
She heard the door behind her creak open and Willow sat down, handing her a mug of coffee.  “Did you sleep at all?”
 
Buffy shook her head. “When I finally persuaded Spike to come down from the tree and go to bed, I had to make sure Eric went back to the orphanage and then – oh, I don’t know, Will, it just seems unfair. We’ve been through so much; everything was beginning to make sense, I was happy. I think Spike was happy, too. And now this – this Silvamalkyne thing – which wasn’t even his fault. It’s so not fair.”
 
Willow sipped her own coffee, remembering Oz, thinking about Tara. It was pointless telling Buffy that life wasn’t fair for anyone; she only ever saw things from her point of view.
 
“Is he asleep?”
 
Buffy nodded wearily.  “I hope so. I want him to wake up normal.  Eric swears that’s what happens; the transformation only happens at  nightfall and vanishes when he goes to sleep a few hours later.  But listen, Will, I need you to research this.  Spike’s a vampire; does the infection work in him the same way as it would a normal human?  It came on so fast, he said.  One second he was heating a packet of blood for supper and the next he was climbing a tree and desperate to hunt for fresh red meat!”
 
“I’ll start right away. I haven’t heard about it before, but there’s sure to be information buried away on some site. I hate to say this, but I wish Anya was here. She would be sure to know something.”
 
Buffy sighed and rubbed her hands across her eyes. “We won’t see her and Xander again until his time as Santa Claus is over. And I don’t think D’Hoffryn will be too happy if we call him up and say we want to talk to her.”
 
“Hey, we could ask him about being a Silvamalkyne.”
 
Buffy frowned. “Only as a last resort. Summoning demons isn’t the top of my best thing to do list. You’ll find something, Will, you know you’re the best.”
 
The red-head smiled faintly and took a large gulp of coffee.  Buffy didn’t understand what she was asking – how seductive it was to plunge into demon research, to pit your wits against magical barriers and force-fields, to use all your witchy powers to get the results you wanted.  A seduction that had ruined her relationship with Tara and one she’d been fighting to avoid. But surely this research couldn’t harm anyone and would only help Buffy, make her realise that this relationship she had with Spike was so very wrong.
 
The two girls went indoors.  Sounds of running water and banging doors told them that Dawn was up and getting ready for school. Minutes later a clatter of feet on the stairs and she was in the kitchen, pouring juice, devouring cereal, long hair tied back with a bright green scarf.
 
“No dear little Eric to look after this morning,” she sniped at her sister. “I expect you miss him.”
 
Buffy tried to keep her irritation from showing. “He’s gone back to the orphanage, you know that, Dawnie.  He’ll be coming to visit again at the weekend.”
 
“What a surprise!”
 
“Dawn – that’s just silly. You sound about eight years old!  You know, if you tried, you’d see what a great kid he is.”
 
Dawn poured the last of the milk into her cereal with a triumphant flourish. “We’re out of milk!  I think Eric drank a lot when he was here. Kids are expensive. But then, you and Spike know that already, don’t you.  You’re always telling me to help save money.”
 
Even through the mists of her worry about Spike, Buffy could hear the hurt in her sister’s voice.  She’d listened to Willow’s explanation of why Dawn felt as she did, but still couldn’t fully understand why she was jealous of Eric. But she had to admit that she seemed deeply unhappy that the little boy had entered their lives.  She wondered what her sister would say when she discovered what Eric had done to Spike! That a tiny bite from the small boy had altered something inside the vampire and changed everything.  It wasn’t going to help smooth things over, that was for sure.
 
“Anyway,  Janice’s mom has asked me if I want to stay over tonight. We’re going bowling tomorrow. It’s Saturday, in case you’d forgotten, what with all the child care!” She waved a dripping milky spoon at Buffy – “She’s going to call you to ask – arrange it all. Don’t worry. Well, I don’t expect you would worry, but it’ll be fun and as I won’t be here, I’m saving you money to spend on Eric!”
 
Buffy took a deep breath; she refused to allow Dawn’s petulance to get under her skin.  “Bowling sounds fun.  Perhaps one day you can teach Eric how to play.”
 
Dawn looked startled. “Wouldn’t you and Spike want to do that?”
 
Buffy fought down an urge to tell her sister that from now on, Spike would turn into a silver haired panther every time there was a full moon.  Heading out for an evening’s fun at the local bowling alley was probably not going to come out high on his to do list.
 
When Dawn finally left and Willow settled down at her computer, Buffy fled back upstairs.  Their bedroom was gloomy, the new heavy drapes she’d put up only a few days ago shutting out the bright sunlight.  Tentatively, she tiptoed across the floor and peered down at the figure sprawled across the bed.
 
Her heart did a double flip as she made out the tousled platinum hair, the flat planes of the face she now freely admitted she loved. And the face was free of silver hair, his long fingers clawless once more.  With a sigh of relief she flung off her clothes and burrowed down next to Spike, pulling the comforter over them.  She pushed her nose into the firm flesh across his chest and breathed in the scent of her vampire lover until her head swam.
 
Running her hands down his back and across his thighs, she muttered, “Wake up!  Wake up!  Make love to me, now!”
 
She pulled his face tightly against her breasts and smiled as she felt the brush of his eyelashes against her heated skin. “You’re not asleep, Spike. Stop pretending.”
 
“Can’t wake up if I haven’t bloody well been asleep, can I?”
 
Buffy felt a cold shiver run across her body at the pain and anger in his voice. She made her voice as cheerful as she could.  “Well, sun’s up and your pretty silver hair has vanished, along with your claws.  Just like Eric said they would.  And anyway, when did having no sleep mean no sex? Never bothered us before.  Or perhaps you don’t fancy me anymore?”  She ran her hands over his body again, possessively, intrusively, glorying in the response she achieved.  And then –
 
Spike rolled away from her and sat up.  “Always fancy you, Slayer. Love you, that’s a given.  But we’ve got to face facts. Things have changed. I’ve changed.”
 
Buffy sat up, heart racing, trying to find the right words.  “If this is about last night – we don’t know what’s involved, what will happen.  You haven’t changed, Spike.  Just your – ” she gestured – “your appearance.”
 
The vampire rolled off the bed and pulled on his jeans and a black T shirt, searched for his boots and sat next to her to pull them on.  Buffy could have cried at the sheer domesticity of them getting ready in the morning.
 
“Not just my appearance, pet.  Could cope with that – although bloody hell, claws and a pelt need some getting used to – but it’s inside as well.”
 
He turned to look at her, his heart sinking at the stubborn expression that had appeared on her face.  This was Slayer Buffy, who expected the world to be odd and dangerous and who would just keep on attacking it until it did what she wanted it to do. When she was in this mood, it was very difficult to talk to her.
 
“Last night – I became a predator, Buffy.  Oh, I’ve been that as a vampire for far too may years not to recognise what I felt.  But you have no idea how hard it was for me not to just run – run and kill, not just for blood, but for the hunt, for meat, flesh and bones to grind.”
 
Buffy gathered up her clothes from where she’d scattered them, pushing away the stupid thought that flew through her brain that this was the last time she would be naked in front of him.  “But you didn’t hunt, didn’t kill.  Perhaps the chip stops you from doing that, just like it stops you killing humans.”
 
For a second, Spike’s face softened with hope, then he shook his head.  “Doesn’t matter, pet.  There is no way I can stay here in this house with you and Dawnie.  We’ve no idea how dangerous these Sylvamalkyens can be.  We know what happened to Oz when he changed – seems like the same sort of thing happens to me.”  He held up a hand, interrupting her before she could speak – “and don’t suggest building me some sort of cage, sweetheart.  There is no way I could live like that every night of my life.”
 
Buffy caught his hand.  “OK, no cage, but you’re not a werewolf, Spike. It’s different to Oz.  Anyway, Willow is being all research girl right now. She’ll find out what this is and how to cure it.”
 
Spike leant forward and dropped a light kiss on her mouth, then pulled her close and kissed her, long and hard, as if trying to install every particle of  sensation into his brain.  At last he broke free and ran his hand gently down her face, savouring the softness of her skin.  “Let’s hope Red comes up with something soon, Slayer.  I don’t want to leave you for long.”
 
“What the heck are you talking about?  Leaving me?” 
 
“Buffy, I’ve already said, I can’t stay under the same roof as you and Dawn.  It’s too dangerous.  I’ll head back to my crypt until we get more information.”
 
Buffy stood up, feeling her temper rising to drown out her fear. “You’re just running away, Spike.  How the heck are you going to be any less dangerous away in the cemetery? I love you. You said you loved me.  I trust you to stay here. Why can’t you trust yourself?”
 
He shrugged, realising that she had no idea of how powerful those feelings had been the night before and that he didn’t trust himself. That was the problem.
 
“Anyway, it’s broad daylight outside. You can’t go anywhere yet.”
 
Spike hesitated, then nodded.  “OK, pet.  I’ll stay till this evening.  And let’s hope Willow has discovered some sort of cure by then, because whatever you say, Buffy, no matter how much I love you, I am not living here and putting you and Dawn in danger.”
 
 
tbc