Santa Claws by Lilachigh



Chp 7 Green eyes

Willow Rosenberg looked up from her book as the front door opened and Buffy and Spike came in – without Eric. She winced silently at the look on their faces. Buffy appeared devastated and Spike – well, she couldn’t say he looked paler; that would be impossible. But to Willow, he seemed ill, his cheekbones slashing at the skin covering them.

She could sympathise. Over Christmas they’d all become very fond of the small blond boy from the children’s home. Somehow he’d fitted into their lives so well, seemingly unphased by the oddness that surrounded the vampire/slaying/magic side. His giggle had been infectious and his experiences with Ethan Rayne and the whole Evil Santa thing seemed to have left him completely unworried.

But Buffy and Spike had seemed more than fond of him. Willow had been surprised at how close the three of them had seemed. Eric had rarely left Spike’s side, except when he was kneeling at the window, waiting for the Slayer to come back from patrol.

Even those had been cut short. Willow couldn’t remember the last time Buffy had spent less than half an hour out slaying. She’d muttered something about Christmas being a slack time vampire wise, but had avoided her friend’s gaze when she said it.

But Willow also knew that Eric’s very presence had prevented the big “let’s talk about you and Spike” discussion that she and Buffy had to have soon. She stared at the couple now as Buffy flung herself onto the sofa, her face strained and unhappy and Spike stood behind her, his long fingers massaging the back of her neck in a way that proclaimed possession and intimacy over a long period of time.

“How was Eric when you left him?” the witch asked at last.

Buffy rubbed at her face with clenched fists. “Upset and trying not to show it. He’s such a brave kid. If only – ”

“Saddest words in the English language, pet,” Spike broke in, walking across the room to stare out at the darkened yard. “And you can’t use them about Eric. Even if the authorities had allowed you to adopt him, - which they wouldn’t - you know damn well that it’s hard enough looking after Dawn who’s fifteen – how on earth could you manage full time with a six year old?”

“I know. I know. And the people at the Home insisted it wouldn’t be long before a nice family would be found for him. But, Spike. I just feel uneasy about taking him back. And be fair, you did too.”

“Well, there’s one person who was glad,” Willow said, raising her eyebrows at the ceiling.

Buffy groaned. “Oh, she‘s not in her room having another temper fit, surely? He’s gone now.”

“Apparently it was something to do with you taking Eric tonight and not going to the parents’ evening at school.”

“But I can go tomorrow. It’s a two day thingy,” Buffy said impatiently. “I’ve never seen Dawn behave like this before. I suppose I’d better go up and have it out with her – again!”

The only cloud over the Christmas and New Year had been her sister‘s behaviour. She‘d made it quite clear that no only did she blame Eric for Xander and Anya vanishing to run Santa Claus central, but loathed it every time Buffy or Spike spoke to the little boy.

They’d had pouting, temper tantrums, door banging, refusal to open presents and the mysterious breaking of the vast bubble blowing gun that Spike had bought Eric could only have been Dawn’s fault.

Willow sighed and stared at her best friend. She wondered if she was being deliberately obtuse about the situation. It was so typically Buffy. She’d kept her affair with Spike secret all this time, but the second it was out in the open, she expected everyone to behave as if it was completely normal. As if the hardest part had been the telling, not dealing with the consequences. And she made no effort to play it cool. She and Spike touched all the time, as if they would collapse if their hands weren’t constantly seeking each other. The air of exclusion around them was scaring.

“Buffy – don’t be hard on her. It’s been a difficult Christmas for Dawn – what with your Mom – and Xander and well, everything.”

Buffy’s eyes glittered with sudden tears. “Oh and I don’t feel the same? We all miss Xander – ” She ignored Spike’s muttered, “I bloody well don’t!’ – but this isn’t about him or Mom. It’s all about Eric and being jealous of a six year old! I don’t understand her, Will. I just don’t.”

“Shall I go and have a word with her?” Spike said.

Willow shook her head. “No! Don’t you see, both of you, that you being together is half the problem.”

“But she was fine with it when we told her!” Buffy exclaimed. “That first night we got back, she was all huggy and kissy and how marvellous it was that Spike was moving in with us as long as he didn’t hog the bathroom.”

“But that was before the reality of it hit her. Spike outside the gang, in his crypt, OK, obviously now to all of us who were blind, your guy, but also Dawn’s special friend. She could hang out there on her own with him. Big not so scary Bad – ”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Spike, but it’s true. Spike indoors, in her sister’s bed and not paying a great deal of attention to her. Different scenario thingy. Even then, I think she would have coped eventually. It would have become romantic in her eyes. But you brought Eric home with you. So not only has she become second in line to you both, she now becomes third.”

“That‘s ridiculous, Willow,” Buffy said wearily. “She’s my sister. I love her. We both love her. Eric is – was – well, - ”

“You acted like his parents, Buffy!” Willow was getting impatient. Why was it so glaringly obvious to her and not to them? “Nice little family group. Mom, Dad and little boy. So where does big sister fit in? Especially when big sis knows she wasn’t real to start with.”

“Eric liked her. He wanted her to like him,” Buffy said.

Willow got up and walked to the foot of the stairs. She turned and sighed. “I’m off to bed. And yes, that’s the saddest thing of all. Eric really liked Dawnie, you could see that. And perhaps if it had just been you bringing him home, then it would have worked. But throwing Spike into the equation – sorry. No. She can’t accept that. She feels excluded and so she’s hell bent on excluding herself so she can’t get hurt any more.”

“Geez, are we going to have this problem every time Eric comes here? Because we’ve invited him to spend next weekend,” Buffy said

Willow stared at her in despair, then shook her head and went up to her room. Buffy still didn’t understand. She could tell by her face, the sharpness of her words. She didn’t even realise how excluded Willow herself had felt when she learnt about Spike. Her best friend had had a passionate affair – no, not just an affair, was deeply in love with another vampire and never told her. Worst of all – she had told Tara. And double worst of all, Tara hadn’t told her. The bitterness of that had cut so deep that Willow couldn’t even put it into words.

Spike wandered out into the kitchen and began heating himself a packet of blood in the microwave. He felt irritable, vaguely angry with the world, which was ridiculous because at the moment he had everything in life he could ever have wished for. He was here, living with the woman he adored. She’d made that amazing announcement, told her friends and family that she loved him, that he loved her. So why was he feeling like this?

He watched the microwave clock ticking down and pulled a face. What was the old saying, “Never wish for something – you might get it.”

He slashed at the plastic packet and gulped down the warm, boring pig’s blood. God, even now, after all these months, his taste buds still clamoured for something else. This stuff filled you up, but there was no buzz, no warmth flowing through his veins.

God, what was wrong with him? Now he was moaning on about blood. The Slayer would kick his butt around the bedroom if she heard him, but what he really wanted was a big juicy piece of meat, not cooked, raw, running with blood, steaming flesh, pulled straight from a living –

“So what shall we do about Dawn?”

He spun round as Buffy came into the kitchen, looking worried. For a moment the roaring sound in his ears intensified, then as he struggled for control, it faded away.

“Not sure, pet. Leave it for now, I suppose. Hope it all settles down.”

He reached for her and she came gladly into his arms, wriggling as close as she could, her hands linking tightly around his neck. “We’ve been so happy. Maybe I’ve taken my eye off the big picture. Willow’s begun to make me feel a bit guilty. As if all this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t told everyone about us.”

“So you’re regretting it now? Am I about to get my marching orders, Slayer?”

The hands tightened, fingers digging deeply into his hair. “Just you try leaving! I must have been mad not telling people before. OK, still got Giles to tell, but there’s a lot of miles between us. I thought I might write. Or we could write. ” She sighed. “Dawn will come round – she has to - and so will Willow. I’ll try and spend more time with them. But I’m not going to abandon you or Eric just because Dawn’s got a dose of green eye fever.”

“And Eric still comes for the weekend?”

“Yes, of course.” Buffy reluctantly entangled herself from her lover’s arms and prised off the lid of the cookie jar. “Oooh chocolate and almond. Want one?”

Spike stared at it and felt his stomach turn over. “No, thanks, I’m good.” He turned away and didn’t notice Buffy begin to frown as she stared across the room at him. He went to the window and gazed out. The moon was full and high, sailing above the treetops. He had a sudden longing to be out there, hunting, running across the soft grass, leaping high into a tree – he could feel his claws digging into the bark, the sweet pull of his muscles bunching to push him higher and higher and –

“Spike! Spike! What the hell’s the matter. You’re growling. And your eyes – oh my God, Spike, what’s happening to your eyes?”

to be continued