Chapter 71 - Confessions

“Mom, Spike’s a vampire. Okay? He’s got super strength and all that, so we’re both fine.”

“He…?”

“He’s a vampire.” Buffy walked over to the stairs, Spike trailing behind her. “Look, it’s all fine,” she said, starting up. “I’ll explain.”

Spike leaned against the railing of the stairs, looking up at Joyce.

“So,” she started awkwardly, obviously searching for something to say. “Have you always been a vampire?”

“No.”

Relief washed over her features.

Much as he liked the lady, it was too good to pass up. “Just for the last hundred years or so.” He grinned.

“Oh.” Confusion spread across her face. “Oh.” Joyce frowned. “Buffy?”

“In a minute, Mom. I promise.”

Joyce looked back down at him. “But you’re not all…” She gestured vaguely toward her own face.

“Not all the time. Wouldn’t be convenient.”

“Vampires can look normal, remember, Mom?”

Buffy prodded her mother to go up the stairs, and they ended up in the kitchen together. Spike disappeared at a look from Buffy, letting himself out the front door.

Joyce sat down at the counter.

“So…Spike was a vampire before?”

“Yeah.” Buffy sat down as well. Even though she hadn’t really intended to blurt about Spike, she felt oddly relieved at talking to her mother.

“Did you know?”

“Not at first.”

“Buffy, I don’t understand. After what you told me about vampires—”

“I know, I know. But, Spike’s…different. Really.”

“So he’s a good vampire?” she asked.

-----“Is this the part where you tell me Spike is a good vampire?”
“Not exactly.” Wesley paused again.-----

“Yes,” Buffy said. “He’s a good vampire.” There was no way she was going into the whole situation with her mother. Spike was going to be good, and that was all Joyce needed to know, at least for now. If her mother asked questions about his past later, she’d deal with it then. This was going to be a hard enough conversation as it was.

“I like him,” Buffy continued, “and he likes me. And that’s not going to change. You liked him before you knew he was a vampire.”

“I didn’t say I dislike him now. It’s just a lot to take in.” Joyce laughed, shaking her head. “Here I was, glad you had a boyfriend to do normal things with, and all this time he’s been a vampire and has been helping you slay things.”

“We do normal things.” Buffy pouted. “We watch TV and go out. Just yesterday we went on a date. He paid,” she added, like that confirmed it.

Her mother frowned, as if remembering something. “Buffy, you said vampires can’t be out in the daytime.”

“Yeah, that’s a…Spike thing. He’s special. But it’s important that no one else know that. In fact, don’t mention that Spike’s a vampire at all.”

“Your friends don’t know?”

“Well, Willow does. But vampires and vampire Slayers aren’t really supposed to be mixy.”

“But you were with him before you were the Slayer?”

“Yeah, but the whole Slayer thing sort of complicated it. And there were other things…” She swiveled her stool around, resting an elbow on the countertop.

“I’m guessing these were the issues you had to work out?”

Buffy nodded. “But we figured it all out.”

“So you knew…when?”

“Before he left the house. I saw him in a mirror. Or, didn’t see him. And after that it was strange, but I still liked him. I saw him afterward, and things…didn’t work like they had. And after I became the Slayer it was weird and neither of us knew how to be. It was complicated and I didn’t want to see him.

“But I needed someone to help me, and he was the best and I knew he would do it. We made a deal, that he would come with me and fight the vampires here—for several reasons, even though we weren’t together. But seeing him again, things ended up happening. I think it took us both a while.”

Her mother remained silent, processing the information. “I see.”

“And he sort of has history with the vampires I’m fighting. Like they’re his ex-girlfriend and this other guy.”

“Oh.” Joyce paused. Then she said, “Is he the one Spike’s girlfriend dumped him for?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, but how do you know that?”

Her mother gave her a long-suffering look. “I told you Spike and I talked about this.”

“Oh, right.” Buffy did remember Joyce questioning her the last time she had mentioned Drusilla.

“He said it was a long time ago, but that she left him for…well, I wasn’t really sure who. Someone he seemed to have a love/hate relationship with.”

“Yeah…definitely on the hate now.”

It was sort of weird to think that her mother had known about Spike’s love life before she herself had.

Joyce frowned, as if realizing something. “How—how long ago was it? Really?”

Buffy fidgeted, knowing where this was going. “I’m not sure exactly. Maybe twenty years?”

“Twenty years,” she echoed. “And just now, he…he said a hundred. Is Spike a hundred years old?”

“Um, something like that. Sort of what happens if you’re a vampire. But it’s not like he’s some old geezer. I mean, it’s not…that weird…”

“Do vampires stay the same?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said quietly.

“What happens later, then?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. I’ll catch up—he looks about thirty something.”

Buffy didn’t bring up the fact that she didn’t know how old she would be getting, even with Spike helping her. She didn’t like to think about it, and she was sure her mother wouldn’t like to think about it.

“You know that vampire that bit me? Spike saved me,” she said, changing the subject.

“He brought you home that day,” her mother said, obviously remembering.

“He also saved me this other time. And another time, too,” she added.

“Trying to make him look good?”

“Is it working?” Buffy smiled.

“It’s not hurting,” she admitted. Then her mother paused for a long moment. “I suppose that being the Slayer, having someone you can rely on—for everything in your life—is important.”

Buffy had never thought of it quite that way before, but it was true. “It is.”

Joyce sighed. “I’m still not quite sure what to think. It’s not exactly news a mother expects to hear. But then, nothing you’ve told me recently has been. I suppose…I’ll get used to it. But I fully expect him to stay for dinner sometime,” she said. Then her look shifted. “He does eat, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“But does he…drink blood, too?”

“Kinda goes with the definition of vampire, Mom.”

Joyce grimaced. “I hate to ask, but—”

“He steals it from the hospital,” Buffy said flatly, a note of disapproval creeping into her voice. “But that’s much better than how other vampires get it, so I can’t really complain.”

She wasn’t going to mention his other source of blood. Besides being something that no one needed to know, it was private, personal. Telling someone that would be as bad as discussing her sex life.

“All right,” her mother said again. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing.” It came out as a question.

“I do. Really. Spike makes me happy. But it’s more than that. We work; we’re right for each other.”

“All right.” She stood. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Buffy said carefully, wondering if her mother was now reconsidering the whole ‘go spend more time with Spike’ thing. “Is there some reason why I should?”

“No, I suppose not.” Joyce looked down at her. “You’re a grown girl.”

“Okay…”

When her mother didn’t say anything else, Buffy got up, too. “Well, I have some things to do…”

“Of course, honey.” She nodded, and pulled Buffy into a quick hug.

Joyce waited until Buffy was upstairs before she went to the cabinet and poured herself a glass from the rarely used decanter.

After news like that, she thought she deserved it.

-----

Just before dusk, Buffy arrived at Spike’s. She had a bag on her shoulder packed with extra clothes. If she was over here more, she needed a few more things to wear.

“I won’t take up much room,” she said. “Just a drawer or two. You do have a drawer?”

“Got several.”

He gestured for her to go on ahead, and Buffy walked into the bedroom. Immediately she noticed that there was a brand new comforter on the bed.

“What’s this?”

Spike came up behind her. “What’s it look like?”

“Where did you get it?”

“The store,” he said, like it was obvious. “Picked it up earlier.”

Buffy looked back at the comforter. It was dark red and looked very cozy.

“But why?” she asked, setting down her bag.

“You said you were cold,” he muttered.

She frowned, vaguely remembering burrowing deeper under the covers several times that morning.

“Oh. Well…”

Spike had gone out and bought something just to make her more comfortable. “Thank you,” she said, sitting down on the bed. She bounced once, running her hands over the material. “It’s very soft.”

He shrugged and nodded, managing to look indifferent and pleased at the same time.

Spike sat down next to her on the bed, and Buffy flopped back, looking up at him. She grinned. “Now you just need a throw pillow or two, a rug, maybe a lamp…”

“Already tellin’ me how to decorate?”

“I’m not telling you how to decorate, I’m just telling you to decorate. I don’t care if you do black leather couches and hubcap end tables—though that would be tacky of the extreme. At least it would look like someone lives here.”

“And it doesn’t now?”

“It just looks so empty. You need…something. Something you like, obviously, not something for me—I mean, it’s not like it’s my place. I’m hardly moving in.”

“What’s that, then?” he asked, nodding toward where her bag sat.

Buffy suddenly sat up. “Oh God, am I moving in? I’m going to have a drawer. Is that moving in?”

“It was your idea to stay over more, pet.”

“Yeah, but actually moving in is a step. A whole big step.” She looked at the bag, packed for ‘staying over.’ It was true that she hadn’t slept at her own house since they’d had sex again. But she hadn’t come here every night just so they could sleep together, necessarily; she just wanted to be with him.

“I’m still not sure I’m ready to actually live with someone yet,” she blurted.

“See, now you’re gettin’ all worked up over terminology.” Spike leaned down next to her and put a finger to her lips. “Be over here whenever you want, and whenever you’re at your mum’s, that’s fine, too. Don’t worry about what to call it. It doesn’t change anything.”

Buffy sighed, smiling a bit. “When did you get so smart?”

“Been around a while.” He drew her to him. “And never worried about what word to use. Always just went with it.”

“Mm. Yes, words are of the bad,” she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder. “I blame the magazines,” she decided, “with all their quizzes and steps to figure out exactly where you are.”

“Been reading?”

“Not now. But I used to live for new issues. Maybe it all gets drilled in after a while. But no more labels. I don’t think we fit anywhere.”

She paused for a moment. “Even saying boyfriend sounds weird.” She tested it again. “‘Boyfriend. My boyfriend.’ I don’t think I like it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re so much more than that.”

Spike didn’t say anything, but his whole body seemed to pause.

“Do you know what I mean?” she asked.

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “I do.”

Buffy snuggled against him, and neither one of them said anything else for quite some time.

-----

On Friday afternoon, she and Spike were getting ready to spar in her basement. Buffy had already been by the Magic Box, where she’d worked with Giles.

He had started showing her meditations. He’d said they were similar to what he was teaching Willow, and that even though she didn’t have the magical power to control, it would help her overall focus.

They had also done the blindfold thing again, which she’d complained to Spike about as being useless.

Buffy finished tightening the laces on her tennis shoes and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

“What’s the most common way for a vampire to bite?” she suddenly asked.

Spike looked at her as he took off his coat. “What do you mean?”

“How’s a vampire going to try to bite me?”

“Any way he can.”

“But isn’t there like some preferred way to do it?”

“Not really.” Spike shrugged. “If they’ve got you down, they’ll do it that way, but it’s just as easy to shove you up against a wall or hold your arms still.”

He stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Although, some will go for the right and some for the left.” He tilted his head each way and leaned in slightly as he spoke. “Depends.”

Then he smiled and moved behind her, his hands skimming over her shirt without actually touching her. A moment later his chest was to her back, and she felt his breath against her ear.

“Or they could do this,” he said. His teeth scraped over the side of her neck.

She really shouldn’t be getting shivers like that during training.

“And if they really like you,” he said in a low voice, “they might do it like this.”

His arms suddenly snaked around her, grabbing her and spinning her around. Just as quickly, he dipped her like they were dancing. She only saw his grin for a split second before he lowered his head and gave her an almost genuine bite.

“Stop it,” she said, giggling. “Let go!” Buffy squirmed and pounded her hands against Spike in mock resistance as he continued to nip at her. “This is so not training!”

“But it’s much more fun,” he said, dragging his teeth up the other side of her throat.

Then he pulled back and looked at her, still holding her barely two feet off the floor.

“We need to train now,” she said, trying to sound serious.

“All right,” he agreed, lowering her to the mat. “Go get a scarf.”

“For what?” Buffy asked, genuinely confused.

“A blindfold.”

“Now I know that doesn’t sound like training.”

He smirked. “We can do that later, if you like. But I was thinkin’ more of what you did with your Watcher.”

“But that was pointless. I always hit him, just like that.” She scooted out from under him and straightened up. “Besides, I can feel vampires, especially you.”

“Should be easy, then. What’d you do with him?”

“Threw a ball at him.”

Spike snorted. “We’ll do some moves.”

“Like actual fighting?”

“More like reactions. Not gonna really attack you, just see how you move. Basic stuff.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Be back in sec.”

Buffy headed to her room to find something that would work as a blindfold. She could do blindfolded training with Spike.

She bit back a smile. The idea of doing other blindfolded things didn’t sound entirely bad, either.