Chapter 16 – Heart to Heart



The Watcher’s Journal of Sir Arthur Gosnard-Tisklin.

London, Sidhe Square, No. 32B, January 20, 1901- I chaperoned Lady Vicky to Lord Teansdale’s ball, and despite my initial forebodings, was pleased to find that she was the most handsome and popular young lady at the party and that her dance card was full the entire evening. I was less pleased when I saw her singled out for several dances by the present Lord Teansdale, a gentleman of twenty-eight years, according to Debrett’s Peerage and Baronetage, who has recently assumed the family title and his inheritance after the sudden and somewhat mysterious death of his older brother. Teansdale’s marked attentions to my Slayer will certainly single her out for comment by the old harpies that always attend these occasions for the dual purposes of cheating at cards and gossip.

I will make it my business to further investigate this youthful branch of the questionable Teansdale family tree before he insinuates himself any further with my Slayer.


***

Spike climbed out of the sewer and raced to the door of Stevenson Hall before his coat could catch on fire. He ran up the stairs and pounded on the door of Buffy’s dorm room.

“Open up, Slayer!” he shouted. “I know you’re in there!”

A couple of students stuck their heads out of their rooms to see what the yelling was about. When they saw Spike’s vamp face, they pulled their heads back and slammed and locked their doors.

Spike banged on the door again. He had no idea if Buffy was in her room or not, because somehow she’d figured out how to shut down the claim. When she didn’t answer, he kicked the door in. The room was empty.

Hell. She wasn’t here.

Since he’d gone to the trouble of coming out in the flamey middle of the day, he might as well have a spot of fun. He sniffed out Buffy’s bed and side of the room and began ripping through her clothes closet, sniffing her things. Slayer smelled good. He opened a chest of drawers and pulled out her tiny knickers. He sniffed them and stuck a couple in his coat pocket. He pulled a couple of the drawers out and threw them on the floor. He was evil, after all. Then, he spotted her answering machine.

He pushed the button to play the messages.

“Message 1 – Buffy, this is Angel. Spike was in town trying to get the ring back. I destroyed the ring. He’s in a bad mood and he could be headed your way. Thought you’d like to know." Beep.

“Ponce. Has his nerve checking up on me and tattling to Buffy.” Spike hit the delete button.

“Message 2 – Buffy, hey, this is Parker. I thought, you know after last night, maybe we could get together. How about tonight? Call me." Beep.

“Not bloody likely, you nit.” Delete.

“Message 3 – Hi Buffy, it’s Mom. How about dinner tonight? You can bring your laundry." Beep.

“Huh. Buffy’s mum. Maybe she’s over there. Not that visiting your mum was nearly a good enough excuse for avoiding your mate.” He hit the skip button.

“Message 4 – Hey, Buffy, it’s Riley. Would you like to study at the library tonight? We could have coffee later. Give me a call." Beep.

“Christ on a crutch. Is the Slayer running a dating service? Every horny son of a bitch on campus is calling her.” He ripped the machine cords out of the wall and tossed the machine through the window.

Suddenly, the claim reopened. Slayer was at her Mum’s. She was still ignoring him and she would have to be punished. He picked up the phone and dialed.

***

Buffy curled up on the sofa next to her Mom. The credits for an incredibly sappy Alice Faye movie, Tail Spin, her mother’s favorite, rolled. Buffy yawned and got up. Okay, she was a coward. She’d been sitting here for eighty-four minutes without telling Mom about Spike. “Guess I’d better be going.”

Where should she go? She wanted to go to Spike. He’d been calling for her the entire evening, but Giles, the gang, everyone would be mad at her if she went to him and blabbermouth Willow would be sure to blab about what she was doing. Besides, her heart would only hurt worse, when the full moon came and the claim expired and she and Spike went back to being enemies.

“I’m so glad you stopped by for a visit, honey. I know how much you enjoy Alice Faye movies.”

“Ungh. Not exactly.” She might lie about a lot of things, but she drew the line at Faux Alice Faye Appreciation.

“Right. Now we have that out of the way, let’s go into the kitchen and imbibe ritual hot chocolate while you tell me what’s wrong. Miniature rainbow marshmallows?”

“There have to be little marshmallows. Nothing’s wrong. Since when can’t a college girl visit her mother without an ulterior basket of dirty laundry? I just wanted to see my favorite Mom.” Buffy settled at the kitchen island and propped her face on her hands.

Joyce scooted Buffy’s mug and spoon in front of her. “Since never. So, what’s Mr. Nothing’s name?”

“How do you do that, the whole Psychic Mom thing?”

“It’s a special upgrade installed on the day you were born. Can’t leave the hospital without it. What’s wrong, Buffy? You can tell your old mom. I vaguely remember something about boys and girls being interested in each other.”

“Spike. You met him.”

Joyce frowned. “Spike? The one who plays drums in a band? Or, was it a triangle?”

Boy, the lies just keep coming back to bite you on the neck. “He doesn’t play drums. He’s a vampire. You hit him on the head with an axe on Parent Night.”

“He’s a vampire.” Joyce chewed that thought over for a minute. And, then another minute. “I thought he had a girlfriend or a wife or something?”

“Drusilla. She’s a vampire, too. She dumped him.”

“Oh.”

“Mom? You won’t get mad?”

“Well, yes, I probably will get mad, but I’ll get over it.” She took Buffy’s hand and squeezed it. “You can tell me, whatever it is. Then, I’ll have a big explosion and we’ll deal.”

Buffy believed her mother was going to have a big explosion all right and as for dealing – it seemed unlikely that Mom could help her deal with this Spike-sized problem. “Spike kinda married me with a Vampire Mating Ritual thingie when I was … sleeping.”

Joyce blinked.

Mom blinked? That was the big explosion she’d been worried about?

“Okay, Buffy. I thought we’d reached the point where I could predict any kind of trouble you could get in, but I see that you’ve opened up new vistas of trouble. I’m sure I’m going to regret asking, but what’s a Vampire Mating Ritual?”

Buffy sniffled. “You’re making fun of me. This is wicked serious.”

“I thought I was dealing pretty well considering I just found out my daughter married a vampire without telling me.”

“It wasn’t a white dress, flowers and a limousine ride at midnight to the Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas kind of wedding. It was more like a car crash.” Tears sneaked out of the corners of Buffy’s eyes, but she brushed them away before Joyce could see them.

Joyce got up and handed Buffy a tissue. “I don’t want to know how this happened, do I?”

Buffy shook her head and blew her nose.

“So, when am I going to see my new son-in-law?”

Beads of sweat broke out on Buffy’s upper lip. This was not the reaction she expected. Not at all. “You want to see Spike? Here? In the house? With Company Plates?”

“I don’t think we’ll need company plates. He drank out of an everyday mug the last time he was here.”

“Great, Spike’s already an Everyday Plate Husband. The claim isn’t even completed and he’s wormed his way onto my mother’s Everyday Plate List.”

Joyce frowned. “The claim isn’t completed? Am I missing some significant detail here?”

“The wedding thing, the claim, it’s only half done. Spike claimed me and I accepted his claim, but to make the claim permanent, I have to claim him back by Friday night. Otherwise, the claim expires and it’s Divorce Undead-American Style.”

“So, this is really more of a Vampire Shack Up than real marriage.”

“I guess.” It didn’t feel that way. It felt entirely nuptial.

“Does Spike have a real name? I can’t see myself calling my son-in-law Spike.”

“William. His name is William.”

Joyce nodded. “William’s a nice name. Do you love William?”

Her mother really knew how to ask all the impossible questions. “I don’t know. I like being with him and sometimes he can be really nice and fun,” and sexy, he can always be sexy, “but he’s really bad. He’s like a monster. Actually, he isn’t like a monster. He is a monster.”

“Really. He seemed so sensitive that time he talked to me about his girlfriend.”

Sensitive? Spike?

“Anya says a vampire mating claim won’t take if the people involved don’t love each other, but I’m not sure if that’s true. And, I don’t want to be in love with a monster. I would know if I loved him, wouldn’t I?”

If only Spike had tricked her into returning his claim instead of just getting her to accept it, while she was zonked up on Cave Cola. Then, she wouldn’t have to think about any of this, because it would be too late. She could just enjoy being with Spike and not have to worry about all this stuff. And, she could blame Spike if their marriage turned out badly.

“I should be taking notes so I can make my own parenting tape. If the claim expires Friday night, what’s the problem? You can take time to find out how you feel about each other and if it doesn’t work out, go your own separate ways.”

Then, I’d be divorced like Mom. “I don’t want to put a husband notch in my belt when I’m only twenty. I don’t want to be divorced. Not ever.”

“Of course not, honey. Nobody wants to be divorced. But, you’re not exactly married.”

“I’m not sure I want the claim to go away. I have feelings for Spike. Maybe I am in love, and it’s not just a Mystical Mind Meld?”

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I don’t have an easy, Mother Knows Best Solution, but maybe you need to spend some time away from Spike. Give yourself a chance to think about what you want.”

Mom thought she should stay away from Spike, too. Buffy could ignore Giles’ recommendations easily enough, but Mom was sometimes right about things. Boy things, especially. Buffy found herself saying something she never thought she’d ever say. “Thanks, Mom. That’s good advice.”

“Great. So, when am I going to see my new son-in-law?”

***

Travers adjusted the new statue of Frimwerst that Anya had placed in the display cabinet before closing the shop. “Frimwerst. Wasn’t he the ancient Laplandish fertility god?”

Giles waved his hand. Travers was goading him, as usual. Every first year Watcher knew the provenance of Frimwerst. “Yes, of course.”

“Get much call for this sort of thing in California?”

“Frimwerst practically flies off the shelves. Very popular for wedding gifts.”

“Ah.” Travers turned the statute away so he wouldn’t have to look at the monstrous Frimwerst with his protruding penis while he was having an unpleasant conversation with Rupert Giles. Somehow conversations with Giles always turned out unpleasantly these days.

Giles had not turned out well as a Watcher, surprisingly, considering the fine reputations of his father and grandmother. Perhaps Giles had been contaminated from being in the States too long, absorbing the unrestrained cowboy attitudes of the Americans. He’d been too lenient with Miss Summers from the beginning, permitting her to run wild.

“Speaking of weddings,” Travers said, “I understand that Miss Summers has made herself a marital attachment of sorts.”

Giles squirmed. How much had Travers found out while he was eavesdropping? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Buffy is an attractive young woman. She has many admirers.”

“No doubt, no doubt. Yet, I understood this relationship to be a rather special one.”

Giles drew himself up stiffly. “Are you spying on Buffy? On our activities here?”

Quentin smiled. “Are you surprised? Did you imagine that the Council would allow the Slayer to wing off on her own after the investment we’ve made in her? Not to mention her history of attracting admirers that are not, shall we say, completely suitable for someone in her position?”

“I assume you’re referring to Angel. He left town. He went to Los Angeles some time ago. Angel is history, as far as Buffy is concerned.”

“Yes, Angelus is history, however, William the Bloody is au courant. Shall we have a glass of that excellent single malt you keep hidden under the counter while we discuss what we’re going to do about our Slayer?”