Chapter 6: Overflowing with Normalness

“Oh, God,” Buffy moaned. “Get inside!” she shouted to Jacob over her shoulder as she dashed toward the demons.

“Is there any way we could do this another time?” she pleaded. There were four of them, and they started to encircle her as she made her case. “It’s just, I’m on a date, and I’d really like it to go well, and – unnngh!” She stumbled backwards as one of them hit her across the face.

Okay, maybe they didn’t speak English.

Or maybe they were just unsympathetic to her plight. Regaining her footing, she landed a return punch. “Fine, we’ll do this now!” She spun around and started throwing punches and kicks furiously.

Jacob watched as the bizarre creatures attacked his date. With his sense of chivalry slightly outweighing his paralyzing fear, he ran into the fray, hoping to help Buffy. Before he could even complete a punch, one of the demons grabbed him and threw him so hard he smacked into one of the porch’s support pillars and fell to the ground unconscious.

“Jacob!” Buffy screamed, watching it happen out of the corner of her eye as she battled another demon. She snapped the neck of the one she was fighting, and moved on to the other three as the defeated demon melted into the ground. Just as she hit one of them with a left hook, another caught her from behind and grabbed her arms. The other two advanced on her as she struggled to get free.

Suddenly, one of the demons was grabbed from behind and went flying across the yard. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes met Spike’s, and she managed to wrench her arms free from the demon and kick it in the stomach.

Between the two of them, they were able to kill the other three demons. As he snapped the neck of the last one, Spike saw Buffy giving him a look of gratitude. “You all right?” he asked, wiping blood from his mouth where his lip was split.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied, shaking off her injuries. One shoulder rolled back into place with an audible pop. “Thanks.” She noticed a bruise blossoming below his left eye and reached up to touch his face.

“Don’t.” Spike pulled away and shook his head. “You should go tend to your boy.” He gestured to the house, where Jacob was still unconscious.

Buffy gasped and ran over to kneel by her date’s prone form. She turned to Spike for help, only to find that he’d disappeared into the darkness again. Stupid vampire, she thought. “Jacob?” she said, attempting to move him into a sitting position.

His eyes flickered open and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Jacob, I’m so sorry. How are you?”

Jacob touched his forehead with his fingertips. “I have a headache.”

“Yeah, uh, it might be a concussion.” Buffy winced. Why couldn’t she ever have normal dates, ones that didn’t end with violence and bloodshed?

“What were those things?”

“Uh, I think it was a – a gang,” Buffy stammered. No one in their right mind would have mistaken the demons for humans, but except for their deformed faces, they were vaguely people-shaped, and Buffy hoped Jacob had been too busy being knocked unconscious to notice their appearance.

“But their faces…” said Jacob.

“PCP,” she added quickly, consciously willing herself not to roll her eyes as she repeated the same lame excuse she’d heard used by the local authorities for years. “I hear it can do that – you know, to your face…” She trailed off as she realized Jacob didn’t quite believe her. She couldn’t say she blamed him.

“Where… did they go?” Jacob managed to get out, as he pulled himself to a standing position with Buffy’s help.

“They, uh, ran away.” Buffy was incredibly thankful that these demons had been of the leave-no-evidence variety. “You should come inside. I can help you get cleaned up.”

“Uh, no, I – I should really go.” He sounded kind of scared.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Buffy called after him as he headed for his car as quickly as he could while still in pain. She sighed as she watched him drive away. “Well, that went well,” she groused, heading into the house.

*****

The sound of the phone ringing made Buffy jump. Dawn raced past her to answer it, then turned to her older sister and made a face. “It’s for you.”

Buffy took the phone from Dawn’s hand. “Hello?”

“Buffy? It’s Jacob.”

Her mouth fell open. After last night’s demon invasion, she hadn’t expected to hear from him ever again. “Hi! How – how are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.”

“I gotta be honest, I didn’t expect you to call…” Buffy realized there were butterflies taking up residence in her stomach. Butterflies she hadn’t really expected. Maybe Willow had been onto something after all.

“Yeah, that was… pretty weird. With the… gang, and all.” She could hear a note of skepticism in his voice, but he didn’t press her for answers. Thank goodness for that Sunnydale willful ignorance. “But I really like you, Buffy, and things were going really well up until, well…”

“Yeah,” she agreed, hope rising within her at his positive words. “I had a really good time.”

“I hear these kinds of things happen all the time in Sunnydale. And I hope that wouldn’t get in the way, you know…”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Of me seeing you again?” Buffy heard a tinge of optimism in his voice and smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She saw Dawn lurking around the corner – close enough to eavesdrop, but trying to stay out of sight – and gave her little sister a thumbs up.

Dawn just rolled her eyes.

*****

“See, that’s why I like vampires,” Buffy said, as she neatly staked the one in front of her. “No muss, no fuss.” It was early, still twilight as she crossed the cemetery. She wasn’t even technically on patrol yet, she just happened to run into a vampire that begged for a staking. Well, the begging was more in favor of the opposite outcome, really, but Buffy wasn’t one to quibble over details. Especially not when she was on a mission.

For the first time ever, she knocked on the door to Spike’s crypt instead of barging in. The unusual nature of this act was reflected in the vampire’s surprised expression as he opened the door to see her standing there.

“Slayer? What’s the matter? You feeling all right?”

Buffy gave him a playful glare as she brushed past him. “It’s called being polite. Maybe you remember something about that from when you were human.”

Spike smirked, but didn’t return the banter.

“Speaking of being polite,” Buffy continued, standing in the middle of the crypt and turning to face him, “I wanted to thank you for last night.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he pushed the door closed behind him. “You already did.” His voice had an unexpected edge to it that unnerved her a little.

“I know, I – I just wanted to make sure… you know…”

“Just doing my job, Slayer.” Spike plopped himself in the armchair in front of the television and reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor next to the chair.

Buffy opened her mouth to make a snappy comeback, then changed her mind and closed it again. “Actually, it’s my job, and you were taking care of things while I was on a date, so…”

“Yeah. Sorry it didn’t go well.” A small smile crossed his face then, almost as if he felt sympathetic towards her, but Buffy was sure that wasn’t it.

“Actually, it did.” Part of her wondered why she was telling him this, even as the words came out of her mouth. “I mean, yeah, demons and everything, but he called me today, so I guess that means he likes me.”

Spike rolled his eyes and took a swallow of whiskey, taking comfort in the burning sensation as it coursed down his throat, the pain a welcome distraction. “Well, bloody great for you, pet. Is that all?” He wasn’t sure if she knew how she was tormenting him, but he wasn’t about to sit around and listen to her waffle about other guys. His jealousy had him on edge enough as it was, he didn’t need all the excruciating details of Buffy’s love life.

“I don’t wanna screw this up.” Buffy came around and positioned herself next to the TV, so that he was facing her. Spike sighed, the bottle dangling from one hand draped over the chair arm. He couldn’t have just kicked her out, could he? No, he had to be a glutton for punishment.

“I mean, he’s a nice, normal guy,” she went on, and great, now the little motor mouth was making herself more comfortable, leaning against the TV, the curve of her body taunting him with the promise of things he could never have. “Totally, like, overflowing with normalness. Completely not evil, or working for a secret government agency. He has a pulse and everything. I checked.”

“I bet you did,” Spike muttered into the bottle.

“What was that?”

“I said, I’m glad for you, pet.” He tried to keep the gritted teeth to a minimum, for her benefit.

Buffy smiled at him. “You’re totally lying.” He half-smiled back. She was right, he’d give her that. “But I appreciate it,” she told him.

“Whatever makes you happy, love.” There was a note of resignation in his voice that he couldn’t hold back.

She shifted nervously. “So, um, how's your life? Or – unlife… or whatever you call it.”

“’S fine.”

She waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she said, “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really, no.”

“What's your problem?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don't have one, pet.” She was about to argue, but he cut her off before she could speak. “Just don't need you pretending like you care. Wouldn't want you to strain something.”

Her jaw dropped. “But – I do care.”

Spike sighed. “No, pet, you want to care, ’cause you think that makes you a better person. But it's fine. We have our thing, you use me for muscle and whatever else you like, don't have to pretend like we're friends the rest of the time.”

His words hit her like an anvil. “I… I thought we were friends,” she said in a small voice. That night in her mother’s bedroom seemed so far away now, though it was hardly a week ago. She’d been so determined to start over, to make things different this time around, to treat him better, like a real friend. Wasn’t that why she was here, being respectful and polite and asking for his advice?

And he had to be wrong, she couldn’t be just pretending, because hearing him reject her so offhandedly, brushing aside her efforts as insincere, hurt her more than she would have expected. “Aren’t we?”

Spike just shrugged, refusing her even the solace of a definite answer, but the tensing of his shoulders and the hardening of his jaw told her more than enough.

After sitting in painful silence until she realized he wouldn’t give her any more than that, Buffy pushed off the TV, resigned. “I guess I should patrol.” She glanced toward him, hoping against hope that Spike would offer his company.

He didn’t. He just nodded, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he blinked and turned away. Confused and hurt, Buffy turned and left the crypt.