Chapter 13: O Come, All Ye Faithful

The next day, Buffy glanced at herself in the mirror as she was getting out of the shower, and something caught her eye. Wrapping the towel around her body, she stepped closer to the glass, running the tips of her fingers over the purple bruise where Spike had gotten a little overzealous with his affections.

Vampires. Always gotta go for the throat.

She felt a tremor of desire flooding through her at the thought, but she quickly shoved it down, grabbing a second towel to dry her hair. If she kept on down that road, she was going to need another shower.

Instead of giving in to her naughty thoughts, Buffy headed back to her room to get dressed, picking out a black turtleneck to cover up the marks. Running mousse through her hair with her fingers and leaving it to dry naturally, Buffy bounded down the stairs. She was about to call out to Dawn when she realized her sister had already left for school.

She must have slept later than she thought – but then, she’d been up most of the night, tossing and turning, unable to shut off her brain. She hated the position she was in, even though she knew it was her own doing. She’d wanted to pretend she was a normal girl, when all along it was a vampire whose touch set her on fire, whose eyes could look at her and see her soul, whose love for her eclipsed all else.

And now she was caught between that vampire and her very human boyfriend, whom she couldn’t bear to hurt. He’d been nothing but good to her, tried so hard to be what she needed – hell, he’d even gotten Dawn to like him – and in return, she’d cheated on him.

Eager for a distraction from her predicament, Buffy made her way across town to Willow and Tara’s apartment, to check on her ailing best friend.

“How’re you feeling, Will?” Buffy asked, although the question was more of a courtesy. Emma had told her the day before that Willow was in immense pain, suffering from a fever and frequent vomiting, as well as what seemed to be damage to her internal organs, but the young witch was far too stoic to admit it. A brave little toaster, Xander called her.

“Better,” Willow replied, forcing a smile.

“Well, that’s good, ’cause you look like death on a Triscuit.”

She watched Willow’s smile become genuine, bringing some semblance of life to her ashen face. “Okay, points for imagery.”

Buffy took a seat beside the bed. “I thought I should stop by when I wasn’t trying to get information out of you.”

“It’s okay,” Willow insisted. “It’s important. Did you find out anything new?”

“Not yet. Giles is still working on it.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Don’t worry about that, Will.” Buffy reached out and grasped her hand, resting on top of the blankets. “You just concentrate on getting better, okay?”

Willow nodded. Buffy glanced away, absently running her other hand over her turtleneck, in the place where Spike had left his mark.

“Buffy – are you okay?” Willow asked, recognizing the gesture.

“I’m fine, Will,” Buffy started to assure her. Then, with a sigh, she asked, “Is it that obvious?” Willow nodded again, and Buffy dropped her gaze to her lap. “It’s… it’s Spike.”

“What about him?”

“I… We kissed.”

“Buffy,” Willow said, with an expression and a tone that indicated she’d been expecting this for a long time. “Are we having lusty feelings towards a certain blond vampire?”

“Lusty wrong feelings,” Buffy corrected.

“It’s not wrong, Buffy.” Willow pushed herself up so she was sitting upright in bed. “It’s okay to have feelings… You’re not still hung up on the vampire thing, are you? I mean, he’s not Angel –”

“No, I know that,” Buffy said, tracing the pattern on the bedspread with her finger. “It’s just... I’m with someone else, and here I am turning into lust-o girl every time I’m with Spike.”

“Look, it’s understandable. You’ve gone through a lot together, and he does love you. Also, he’s kind of a hottie.” When Buffy looked at her in surprise, she said, “What? I’m gay, not blind.”

Buffy let out a slight chuckle at that, and then Willow met her gaze and grew serious. “Buffy, just be honest with yourself. What do you want?” She paused. “And if it’s not Jacob, then you have to tell him.”

“But it’s so close to Christmas…”

“What, you think it’ll be easier on Boxing Day?”

Buffy averted her eyes, knowing that Willow was right. “I just feel awful dumping somebody right before Christmas.”

“If you don’t, someone’s gonna get hurt. Maybe all of you. Just decide whose heart you’re gonna break and get it over with, okay?”

Buffy gave her a half-smile. “Look at you, hundred and two fever, and you’re still dishing out the best friend advice.”

With an effort, Willow lifted her hand to shove Buffy lightly. “So, come on. Don’t hold out on me now. How were the smoochies?”

Buffy adopted a demure expression as she tried to suppress her grin. Shyly, she pulled down her turtleneck to reveal the bruise. “He, um, got a little overexcited.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “That’s what we professionals call a hickey.”

Buffy let her collar fall back into place as her smile faded into that faraway look Willow remembered from their high school girl talks about Angel. “When he kisses me, Will… it’s like the entire world disappears.”

With her own wistful expression, Willow glanced toward the door, where Tara had gone out to the living room in order to give them some privacy. “I know.”

*****

As Buffy left the apartment, she pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed Jacob’s number.

“It’s me,” she said when he answered. “Can you come over later?”

“Sure,” he replied. “I’m not busy now if you want to…”

“I can’t. I – I’m Magic Box-bound right now. Tonight, okay?”

He agreed, and Buffy felt a sinking feeling as she snapped her phone shut. Stop it. You’re doing the right thing.

*****

It was after midnight by the time Buffy got back to the house.

She hadn’t intended to be out so late. She’d left the Magic Box at a reasonable hour, planning to go straight home without even patrolling. But, of course, a fungus demon had to attract her attention on the way home, and she couldn’t just let it go. As she gave chase, she swore to herself that she wasn’t stalling.

She spent two hours tracking it through the sewers, and a third trying to kill it when she finally caught up. Once the demon was dead, Buffy was struck with paranoia – what if this was another set-up by the warlock? What if he wanted her to kill the demon for something? Unwilling to take any chances, she’d broken into the closest cemetery’s maintenance shed to steal the groundskeeper’s shovel, then hacked the demon into pieces and buried them scattered throughout the graveyard – all by herself, of course, because while vampire strength would’ve been helpful with the chopping and the digging and the heavy lifting, alone time with Spike was pretty much to be avoided at all costs for the time being.

By the time she stumbled in the front door, she was bone tired, sweaty, and streaked with dirt, demon guts, and sewer sludge, and all she wanted to do was wash off the gunk and fall into bed.

“Jacob,” she said, trying to keep the weariness out of her voice as she caught sight of him sitting on the couch, watching TV with the volume turned way down so as not to wake Dawn. “You’re still here.”

“You asked me to be,” he replied with a shrug.

Buffy closed her eyes briefly, rubbing her forehead. “I did. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to be so late. I got side-tracked by a fungus demon.”

“It’s okay.” He rose from the sofa and ran his hands up and down her arms. “Was there something in particular you wanted, or…?”

She looked up at his earnest face, and the weight of her emotions and her exhaustion just made her want to burst into tears. I can’t deal with this right now.

She shook her head. “We can talk in the morning. I just wanna get a shower and go to bed.”

“Okay,” he agreed, his hand on the small of her back as he followed her up the stairs. She’d have preferred to sleep alone, but she didn’t have the heart to ask him to leave after he had waited up for her for hours.

In her bedroom, Buffy rifled through her pajama drawer, looking for something that said, “I don’t want to have sex tonight” without being too obvious, but naturally, the only clean sleepwear she could find were slinky negligees or heavy flannel pajamas that made it look like she’d taken a vow of chastity. Settling on the least frilly of her babydoll nightgowns, she trudged into the bathroom for her shower.

As she let the hot spray wash away the grime and fatigue, she closed her eyes and imagined unnaturally strong hands massaging the tension out of her shoulders. She felt him work his way down her back, teasing the aches out of every muscle as he pressed soft kisses along her throat.

She rolled her head until her neck popped, and she let out a moan, barely audible above the rushing water. As she imagined his fingers sliding over her hips and down her belly to the nestle of curls at her sex, she leaned back against the cool tile and propped one foot up on the edge of the bathtub.

Picturing his blond head bobbing between her thighs as he laved her with his tongue, nibbling and sucking her clit like he’d done to other parts of her the night before, she brought herself to a trembling climax, slumping against the wall with a whimpering sigh.

Suddenly, realizing what she’d just done, she quickly shut off the shower and snatched a towel off the rack to dry herself off.

Clad in her nightgown, she crept back into her bedroom, taking care not to disturb her sister. Jacob’s arms snaked around her as soon as she slipped under the covers, his naked erection pressing against her thigh.

“I’m really tired,” she murmured, hoping he’d get the message. He did, kissing her on the forehead before relaxing his embrace and settling in to go to sleep. Buffy rolled over, putting her back to him and feeling only half guilty – after all, she was really tired – as she drifted off to sleep.

*****

Buffy awoke with a start, and a bleary glance at the clock told her it was almost four a.m. Straining to listen for anything out of the ordinary that might have been the cause of her waking, she thought she heard movements from downstairs, but it could simply have been the wind, or creaky pipes, or what her mother used to call “the house settling.”

Then, the handle on the bedroom door began to turn, and Buffy shot up in bed, startling Jacob awake. The door swung open, revealing a frightened, pajama-clad Dawn.

“Buffy?” she whispered. “Something’s in the house.”

“I hear it.” Buffy slipped out of bed and pulled her bathrobe on over her nightgown. Opening the weapons chest at the foot of the bed, she instructed Dawn, “You stay here while I check it out, okay? And don’t open the door until I get back.”

Jacob sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a demon in the house. I’m gonna take care of it. Dawn’s gonna stay with you.”

As Buffy shut the door behind her, Dawn gave Jacob a dubious look. “Are you naked?”

Sheepishly, Jacob reached out to grab his boxers and slid them on underneath the covers.

*****

Buffy crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky boards, both hands choked up on the axe in striking position. At the bottom of the steps, she hesitated, then opted to circle through the dining room first. As she stepped around the corner, a blow came out of the darkness, knocking her backwards. She stumbled, swinging the axe blindly, shattering the china plates hanging on the wall.

The figure, cloaked in shadows, came at her again, and she quickly scrambled backwards into the foyer, where the open living room curtains let in some light from the street. The demon pursued, and she could see that he was swathed in black robes, a large hood concealing his face. He carried a broadsword, and she parried his thrusts with the axe handle, retreating until her calves bumped the coffee table.

The demon attempted to stab her, but Buffy jumped up onto the coffee table and did a back bend to avoid the point of the sword. “Please don’t collapse,” she pleaded softly with the furniture as she launched into a backwards cartwheel, delivering a double kick to the demon’s face before landing on the other side of the table.

In response, the demon picked up the coffee table and threw it across the room, where it splintered against the wall.

“Thanks,” Buffy muttered sarcastically, hefting the axe to her shoulder and swinging it in a broad arc. She managed to make contact with the demon’s sword arm, but it dropped the weapon and came at her again with a sweeping kick that sent her flying into the Christmas tree.

Ornaments shattered on impact, pieces of glass and plastic digging into her back, but the tree remained standing. Buffy said a silent thank you to Spike for being crazy enough to tie the damn thing to the wall. She scrambled out of the mild wreckage, cutting her feet on the broken ornaments, and swung the axe again with a grunt, this time embedding it in the demon's chest.

“You messed up my Christmas tree!” she pouted, as the demon collapsed with a groan. Then, she heard a crash from upstairs, followed by a thud and Dawn screaming, and she abandoned the corpse, flying up the steps.

When she burst into the bedroom, she found Dawn huddled on the bed, clutching Jacob and crying. The window was broken and glass was scattered on the floor.

“It cut off my hair!” Dawn sobbed.

Buffy rushed to cradle her in her arms, exchanging a worried look with Jacob over her sister’s head. “What happened?”

Jacob shook his head. “Came in the window. Threw me across the room and went right for Dawn. It – it cut off a lock of her hair and then went back out the window.”

“Black robes?” Buffy asked. Jacob nodded. “Yeah, killed his buddy downstairs.”

“Buffy,” Dawn asked tearfully, “why would it cut off my hair?”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Buffy soothed her, even as a cold fist of fear tightened in her gut.