Chapter Fourteen
 
Rita had volunteered to get them to the airport; while Spike crouched in the back, she and Buffy chatted about the new assignment.
 
“So, those girls weren’t being weakened like us? They just really got killed by something?”
 
Buffy frowned at the awe in Rita’s voice. “You do know that slayers die, don’t you?  Most of them not as young as they used to, but it still happens.”  She bit her lip, considering how different it must be to be one slayer among many and to never have run up against something you and your friends couldn’t handle.  “Do you remember how you felt when Spike beat you? It didn’t occur to you that you could have been dead?”
 
Rita flushed and glanced toward the back of the van where Spike immediately went into game face and growled.
 
“Well, yeah. But it turned out I wasn’t—I didn’t have all my—”
 
“Would have had you anyway, love,” Spike said, back in his human face, his tone serious.  “I’m an old vamp and I’ve spent my life looking for bigger and badder things to fight, including slayers. Just because that moronic Fyarl demon is the worst thing you’ve run across here, doesn’t mean there aren’t other bad things out there.”
 
Buffy put in somewhat more gently, “We’re really glad you girls have your confidence back – you need to be confident or you’ll lose.  But you shouldn’t get too cocky.  Save that until you’ve assessed your opponent and know what you’re facing.” 
 
She exchanged looks with Spike, then said, “Whatever killed those two girls in Iceland also badly injured a couple of others... all by itself. And they were experienced slayers. That’s why Spike and I— and maybe Faith, since she’s already been there— are going there. Whatever it is, it’s tough enough to kill a slayer. One in full possession of her powers and training.”
 
“So, you’re saying even when I have all my powers, I’m not going be as strong as you?” There was an edge to Rita’s voice that caused Buffy to exchange looks with Spike and roll her eyes.
 
“You do remember why Vi asked me to come here, don’t you?”
 
“Because we asked her to check with the Council and ask them what would make a vamp so hard to kill!” Rita said.  “We never asked for help.”
 
“Needed it though, didn’t you?” Spike growled from the back.  Buffy frowned at him, and his voice was gentler when he continued.  “I wasn’t just hard to kill because you were getting weaker, luv.  I’m old, crafty, and a very experienced fighter. I’d have had you anyway,” he repeated his earlier boast.  “And Buffy’s been a slayer since she was fifteen.  Which was a while ago....” He grinned when Buffy glared at him and hissed, “It wasn’t that long ago!”
 
“The point Spike is trying to make, is that he and I... and Faith... have been at this for a long time. We are stronger, we are more experienced at fighting and at figuring out how to take out the big bads.  By the time I was your age, I’d already stopped three apocalypses and—ohmygod, I sound like somebody’s grandmother!”  Her unhappy expression didn’t improve when Spike made no attempt to smother his laughter.
 
When Rita couldn’t control her own snickering, Buffy gave in and began to laugh at herself.  “Okay, I’m done with the ‘back in my day’ stuff.  Just remember that you’ll get stronger all the time, and you’ll get better at fighting. This is a hellmouth, even if it isn’t all that big. Sooner or later you’ll get to tackle older vampires and bigger demons. And every time you do, you’ll get a little better at it.”
 
“But never get too proud to ask for backup muscle,” Spike said. “’S why we’re heading off to the wilds of Iceland.  Because they’ve asked for help.”
 
“Seems like, with you two having saved the world a couple of times already and just now getting back together, you’d get some time off for like... I dunno... a honeymoon or something like that.”
 
Buffy choked on the bottle of water she’d just put to her lips, which Spike roared his laughter from the back of the van.  Rita took her eyes off the road to glare at both of them. “What? Don’t you think—”
 
“We appreciate the thought, luv,” Spike finally was able to gasp out. “But I don’t care how new and improved the Council of Wankers is, giving Buffy time off to take a vacation with a vampire boyfriend isn’t gonna be on their agenda.”
 
Buffy nodded her agreement, even as she corrected him with “Council of wanker—Watchers and Slayers, thank you very much.”  She shook her head and smiled at him. “But I would have taken some time off if Willow hadn’t called me.  It just turned out there’s another crisis, and Spike can probably help us, so....”
 
“Well, if I’d just found my boyfriend again after a long time, I’d tell Willow I wasn’t going.”  Rita nodded her head firmly as she pulled around to the private section of the airport and peered around for the Council plane.  Spotting it in almost the same spot as it had been just two days ago, she drove up to it and stopped under the wing.
 
“You’ll let us know how that works out for you the first time you try it,” Spike said, patting her on the head as he climbed out of the van into the shade.  Buffy poked him and smiled her thanks at Rita.
 
“Thanks for the ride. The sooner we get where we’re going, the sooner we can take care of it and think about that... honeymoon.”
 
Spike had already pulled their minimal luggage out of the van and tossed it up to the young slayer standing on the wing.  When Rita had waved her good-bye and driven away, he took a deep breath and pulled the blanket he’d taken from Buffy’s room over his head.
 
“Get back, pet,” he instructed the girl on the wing. When she had moved away from the door, he darted out and left the ground in almost one smooth motion, landing on his feet just outside the door of the small jet.  He grinned at the wide-eyed slayer, moving past her so that Buffy could enter the plane after taking a more traditional method of using the ladder to get onto the wing.
 
Buffy smiled at their bewildered companion. “Didn’t Willow tell you Spike was coming with me?”
 
The girl nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, never taking her eyes off Spike. “But she never said he was—”
 
“William the Bloody, at your service, luv.” Spike’s quick bow over the hand he had brought to his lips was over too quickly for her to do anything but blink and stammer.  If she hadn’t already figured it out, Spike’s cool lips and hand would have given him away as a vampire.
 
Taking pity on her when she clearly didn’t know whether she should grab a stake or curtsey, Buffy said, “Ignore him, Sandy. He thinks he’s being charming when he’s just being an ass.  This is Spike. AKA William the Bloody. Yes, he’s a vampire. But he’s on our side. He isn’t going to start munching on the pilot – or anyone else.” 
 
When Sandy continued to stare at Spike, more belligerently as her slayer training and instincts kicked in, he sighed and said, “Alright, let’s get this out of the way....” His shift into game face and the accompanying snarl had her stake in her hand as she crouched into a fighting position.  With an exasperated huff, Buffy walked over to Spike and buried her fingers in his ribs until he began to snicker. “Stop it, Slayer,” he tried to order, the accompanying growl rendered ineffective by the very unmanly giggles he couldn’t control.  When he was twisting away from her and promising to dismember her as soon as he could stop laughing long enough to do it, she relented, sliding her hands around to his back and gazed up at him, unafraid. She could hear Sandy’s gasp of disbelief as his face shifted back and he nuzzled Buffy’s cheek.
 
“That was cheatin’, love.  Just met this bint and now you’re giving away all my secrets to her. Be all your fault if some slayer stakes me one day because she knew to tickle me first.”
 
“She needed to see that you aren’t all fangs and hand kissing.  And now that she knows what a sucker you are for being tickled, she won’t be as worried about you.”
 
“That right, pet?” He cocked an eyebrow at Sandy, his arms still wrapped around Buffy. “Not worried about me anymore?”
 
“You’re....” Sandy shook her head.  “I’m going to tell the pilot we’re ready any time he is,” she said walking toward the cockpit. “There’s a folder on the seat over there with pictures and other information. Also a laptop if you’d rather look it over on something more this century.”
 
“Was that a crack at me?” Spike glared at her with obviously feigned anger. Sandy just flipped her hand at him and opened the door to the cockpit. Spike turned his attention to Buffy, who was smiling up at him.  “Was it?”
 
She laughed. “Could just as easily have been aimed at me. All the newer girls think I’m older than dirt. Don’t take it personally.  Let’s see what we know,” she said, pulling him to the seats Sandy had indicated.
 
 
 
After the better part of an hour spent reading all the reports, including graphic details of in what condition the dead slayers’ bodies had been found, Buffy sighed and pushed the folder away from her.  Spike still had the pictures of the bodies and the blurry glimpse of the demon spread out on his tray-table.
 
“Never seen anything like that,” he mused.  “Where’s Beowulf when you need him?”
 
“Beo-what?”
 
“Nothing. Was just thinking aloud.  I’ll be interested to see what this bugger turns out to be, is all.... After we kill it, of course,” he added when Buffy muttered, “Interested? You’ll be interested?”
 
Spike smiled and reached for the folder to put the pictures away. “I’m just curious, Slayer. Doesn’t mean I won’t do my job.”
 
“Which is....?” Her voice took on a slightly dangerous tone.
 
He leaned over and kissed her foreheand. “To back up you and your slayers. Just in case.”
 
“Nice save,” she said, leaning into him.
 
“’M not stupid, you know. Bit of a wanker sometimes, but not stupid.  And I know my girl,” he added, putting his arm around her. “I think I know my girl.”
 
Buffy yawned and snuggled into his chest. “Your girl is sleepy. Somebody woke her up too early this morning.”
 
He slouched down so that she was almost lying on him. “Then go ahead and catch a nap, love. It’s a long trip. I could use some sleep too.”  She rested against him, stirring when he began stroking her back and whispering, “Do you think she’s going to stay up there with the pilot? I mean, just in case we—”
 
“Save it for the ‘honeymoon’,” she murmured, already drifting off to sleep.
 
“Honeymoon.  I like the sound of that.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat. “I could get used to that idea.”
 
The end