Disclaimer: Joss...sigh...owns them.

Author’s note: BTL rocks my socks! Love her to bits! She is a wonderful beta who deserves many huggles daily.
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Chapter 27: Old Habits

“Make a wish,” Buffy half slurred sitting atop a sarcophagus in Spike’s crypt, holding a near empty bottle of whiskey in her hand.

Sitting in his comfy chair, watching her with amusement, Spike shook his head. “Nope, no wishes, pet. Just get me in trouble.”

Buffy nearly stumbled off the tomb and moved towards him with purpose. She sat down haphazardly on the arm of his chair.

“Ok, no wishes. Questions! You can do questions right?” she asked as she sat precariously, swaying back and forth.

Spike nodded.

“So, you’ve been here for five years or so...”

“Off and on,” he replied.

“And you were all lusty looking at Liz, but Dru never called you back to her side?” she asked her eye brow raised.

Spike shook his head. “Actually had to chase after her once. Dumped me for a chaos demon.“

“Ewwwww,“ moaned Buffy. “Gross! With the slime?”

“She did come back here, nearly fed Liz to her. I just wanted the Slayer to give me a chance, a crumb of something. Well that’s bullocks now, isn’t it? Bleedin’ hell Cecily!”

Drunkenly, Buffy put her hand on his arm. “It’s a very icky feeling I’m having for you right now, William. And I’m not just saying that because I’m going to vomit soon,” she admitted with wide eyes, her face turning slightly green.

Spike bolted off the chair and turned her towards the door, barely managing to make it outside before Buffy heaved the contents of her stomach onto the shrubbery.

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Buffy woke up on a soft surface, a hazy feeling muddling her thoughts. Her body stretched instinctively as it began to wake up more and more, her bare foot encountering skin. Cold skin.

The room was dark. So dark that she couldn’t see a thing. She could feel though. She ran her foot up against the skin of the person she was in bed with. It smelled like Spike. The cold skin was vampire like, there was no breathing coming from the body next to her. So either it was Spike or he was playing a joke on her and had put a dead body in the bed with her.

She didn’t know which scenario was better.

Truthfully, she didn’t remember much after what she assumed was the first round of vomiting, because she was pretty certain that she had found another bottle of something or other later on.

Suddenly the body in the bed rolled over, trapping her foot underneath his thighs. She lay there pondering exactly what she was supposed to do in the pitch black with her foot under him and suddenly very conscious that she was naked.

She smacked herself in the head and groaned in pain.

It had been 20 odd years since she saw him last and what did she do? Into bed with him she went. She couldn’t believe herself. Rolling her eyes at her utter lack of self respect, ‘cause yes, she had been trying to get some in the last 15 years or so, she pulled her leg out from under Spike’s body. This unfortunately had an unexpected result.

He grabbed her leg.

“Spike!” she whispered into the darkness. “Let go!”

“Nuh uh,” he purred. “Gonna get me a nummy treat.”

“Are you insane?” she asked incredulous.

“Passed out before we could ‘reunite’ last night.”

Buffy smiled to herself even as she pulled away from him and removed herself from the bed, staring in his direction. She was intensely relieved.

“I am not going to shag you, William!” she declared venomously.

“What?” he asked completely caught off guard. “Not even a little?”

“A little? No, Spike. Not a little, not a lot. No shagging!”

“Why? What happened to me being all possessive and grr and you being all ’fuck me, I’m yours‘?”

“I moved on,” she lied, her tone sad.

“Bollocks!” he spat. “Can’t smell another scent on you. Still got my marks on your neck.”

“So?” she wondered out loud. “What difference does that make? Those things don’t mean I’m going to fall into bed with you, of the non drunk and passed out way. I decided after the last time, that it was the last time. The last time I’d be used. The last time you’d run back to Dru. The last time I’d have my heart broken.” Buffy wrenched the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself in the darkness.

From the direction of the bed, a hand grabbed her arm.

“This time you won’t get your heart broken, love,” he whispered.

“After a hundred years of it Spike, it’s gonna take a lot more than you saying that to get me to believe you,” she commented, opening a portal and stepping through, taking the sheet with her.

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Though it saddened her, Buffy stayed away from Liz’s house, giving the Slayer a wide berth. She avoided Spike too. She had been foolish to think that he wouldn’t try to get them back into their pattern of meet, shag, leave.

She didn’t give up her position as guidance counsellor at Dawn’s school though. It fulfilled the vengeance and she got to see Dawn. At first it was passing smiles and waves in the hall. Then one day Dawn plopped down into the chair in front of her desk and sighed.

“He misses you.”

“Who? Huh?” came her articulate response.

“Spike? The bleach blond who wears nothing but black? Ring a bell or two in that older than Dick Clark head of yours?” the teen jibed at her.

“I do remember who he is Dawn,” Buffy said softly.

“Well, go talk to him. He’s been moping since you left, whenever that was, and he’s been all drinking and grr. Liz is totally annoyed with him, he’s not helping with her patrolling.”

“I thought she wanted him to leave her alone?”

“She’s a girl of confused priorities. You would think that she’d want her ‘stalker, vampire who had a crush on her but doesn’t since her grandmother showed up, grandfather’ to follow her around and stake the baddies but...”

Buffy raised a hand, halting Dawn’s babble. “Hold on, what?”

“Oh, well there was this whole stalking Liz thing to make her see that he really did love her, it was lame, but in a way cute and romantic, in a cheesy TV drama type way, which now that I think about it is way ewww and cringe worthy...”

“Dawn!”

“Spike’s our great great great grandfather?” answered Dawn with a shrug.

Buffy sighed, sinking into her chair. “And I promised I wouldn’t out him. Does Liz know?”

Dawn shook her head and slouched in her seat. “She doesn’t pay any attention to me anyway,” she replied sullenly.

“You can’t tell, not until he’s ready. He wasn’t ready to be a parent before, with Christopher, not that I told him anyway, until it was after the fact.”

“Will you go see him?” asked Dawn again, hopefully. “I’m allowed to go to see him again, now that he’s told Liz that you’d ‘buggered off’,” imitated Dawn with a very bad accent.

“I’ll go see him,” Buffy chuckled. “Tell me about you, though. How is Dawn?”

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“Dawn is quite the advocate for your side, Spike,” Buffy said as she closed the crypt’s door behind her.

“Bit’s always had a soft spot for me,” he observed from his sprawled out position in his comfy chair. “Is that why you’ve come back?”

Buffy nodded. “One look into her blue eyes and I’m torn. You make things hard, William, you always have. I had it all planned out in my head you know. I’d find my family, and they’d understand. I’d dreamed that they’d want me and I get here and not only does Liz not want me, but you’re here. There’s a part of me that’s all swoony and ‘fuck me, I’m yours’ but there’s that other part of me that wants to rip off your balls and feed them to you in hot salsa.”

Spike squeezed his legs together as he cringed, his hand lowering to cover his bits.

“I can’t be around you, Spike. I can’t and still do my job and look out for them. Do you remember what Christopher said? That if we’d been together when we went to see him we’d be fighting all the time. It’s true,” Buffy admitted with a bitter laugh. “Christopher knew us better than ourselves.”

“That he did, love,” Spike agreed, getting up out of the chair. “I know it doesn’t mean much, coming from me, but I am sorry. I’m sorry I let Dru rule over me. Turns out she didn’t love me for all eternity after all. It was all about her Daddy.”

“I could have told you that a hundred and twenty years ago...” she sniffled.

“I wouldn’t’a listened, though. Had to learn it myself, didn’t I?”

Buffy smiled, knowing that what he said was true. “Sorry doesn’t make everything better though, Spike. It‘s just a word.”

Spike grabbed her hand and held it gently in his a moment before responding. “Then let me make it up to you without words. You never liked my words anyway.”

“Not true!” she protested. “Though the effulgent one was not your best work...”

“Going to Demon girl’s wedding?” he questioned suddenly.

Buffy met his eyes with curiosity.

“Of course, it’s why I came to Sunnydale in the first place... Are you asking me to be your date?”

“’Suppose I am.”

Buffy grinned mischievously. “I don’t know if I should accept such an improper invitation.”

Spike smirked back at her and stood up, giving her a small bow. “It would do me the greatest honour Miss Underwood, if you would accompany me to the wedding. Might I be so bold as to ask the pleasure of your hand for a dance at the reception?”

Buffy barely contained her laughter. “I will only accept if you promise you will save me from bores the like of Mrs. Chambers!”

“Promise, pet. I’ll even bring you punch.”

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Erixel, Vengeance Demon, sat demurely between D’Hoffryn and Dawn on the opposite site of the table from Xander Harris’ relatives. She’d opted to stay in demon face, just so that there wouldn’t be questions from the groom’s family about the maid of honour’s lineage. Not that there wasn’t enough of that going on.

Buffy had to laugh at the announcement that Anya’s people were circus folk. How dumb is that? But Anya was trying so hard. It took everything Buffy had in her to keep her mouth closed and from keeping all that vile vengeance wishes she was thinking to herself. It wasn’t good for her to say things out loud when the one demon who granted wishes to vengeance demons was sitting beside her. D’Hoffryn was acting as father of the bride.

“I wonder where Spike is?” Dawn whispered. Buffy could tell that she’d formulated what she said in order to make sure that she didn’t use the ‘wish’ word.

“I wish he was here too,” Buffy whispered back. “But he’s not part of the wedding party.”

Dawn murmured in understanding, until she was elbowed in the ribs by Liz on the other side of her. Liz was certainly putting on a brave face in light of the fact that she was surrounded by demons and not supposed to slay any of them.

The alcohol was flowing freely and boy did it flow.

“Have you seen the dresses yet?” asked Dawn again, ignoring the look Liz was giving her.

Buffy nodded, her freshly permed ringlets bouncing. “Much nicer than the burlap and Larvae she had picked out, let me tell you.” Buffy halted her analysis of the dresses as the food arrived, the serving staff of the restaurant placing the plates in front of demons and the Harris clan alike.

“I didn’t know that demons ate human food...” observed the teen.

“Oh, all the time, you never know what kind of thing will get a client to open up. I’ve had many stimulating conversations over dinner, or even just coffee. ‘Course in the Depression, food was the best way to get orphaned children to open up, so starved and lonely.”

Dawn raised her fork to her mouth and mumbled something unintelligible as she shovelled more food into her mouth.

“I bet you could totally help me with history homework... I’m supposed to start a project on a world conflict and its causes for my history class...Janice is my partner. I don’t know what to pick. I was thinking the Boxer Rebellion, cause Spike was going to help me, he was there and everything. Where you there?”

Buffy nodded. “Of course I was there, I started it.”

Dawn put her fork down, her eyes wide.

“There were other factors, but it all started with a wish. You’d be surprised how many wars and rebellions are started by vengeance demons.”

“Ok, Dawn we are moving spots,” came Liz’s voice interrupting their conversation.

“Why?” Dawn whined.

“I don’t want you to talk to her anymore!” Liz hissed.

“I can’t talk to another bride’s maid? What the hell is wrong with you Liz!” shouted Dawn, as she threw down her napkin on her half eaten food and stormed out of the room.

The whole table of guests and relations watched as the teen stormed out.

“I wouldn’t want to talk to them either,” noted Mr. Harris, over the top of his glass of whatever it was alcoholic he was drinking.

“I’ll go after her,” said the soft voice of Tara, one of Anya’s human friends, who Buffy suspected was a witch.

At least Dawn had one person within Liz’s group that actually cared about her.

One of the groom’s uncles stood up, his glass in hand.

“A toast!”

“That’s really not necessary Uncle Rory,” muttered the groom.

“A toast to the bride and groom, may they get through tomorrow with minimal problems. I wish them...”

The vengeance demons at the table looked up expectantly, while Liz, the groom, and their friend Willow gasped.

“... happiness and many years of staying out of Uncle Sam’s interfering grip,” concluded the slightly inebriated uncle of the groom, a lopsided smile on his face as he raised his glass before downing the drink.

“Wish granted,” said nearly every vengeance demon at the table.

“See Xander, there is one of your relatives that I like,” added Anya from the head of the table.

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tbc...