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Hearts Breaking Even by slaymesoftly
 
Seven and Eight
 
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Chapter Seven


The following evening, without going into details about their conversation, Buffy did her best to bring Giles and the Scoobies up-to-date on Spike. Back against the wall of the library, Angel brooded in silence, frowning every time she mentioned his grandchilde’s name.

“So, Buffy,” Giles tried to keep his tone impartial and smooth, although he wanted to shout at her for her stupidity in pausing to talk to William the Bloody rather than slaying him. “You are saying that Spike helped you defeat the J’kack demons and then told you he wasn’t hunting?”

“Well, he didn’t so much help me as he evened the odds a little – I guess he killed one of them and threw me the sword. Then he just watched me fight the rest of them.”

“So, once again, he was using this as an opportunity to study your moves.”

“No, he just likes to—yes! I mean, yes, he was watching me fight them because he wanted to…study me.”

“He’s up to something.” Angel’s voice was a low growl and Buffy shot him an irritated look.

“Or maybe he just wants to cure whatshername and get out of here,” she snapped, surprising everyone with the vehemence of her reply.

Her Watcher gave the vampire a glare, then continued, “And did you say he apologized for the missing girls?” The disbelief was obvious.

“Well, not in so many words.” She squirmed uncomfortably. “He just said that he hadn’t meant for that to happen and that humans weren’t what he needs to cure his…” She found herself struggling to find something to call the woman Spike had come to Sunnydale to save. “…His sire,” she finally got out.

“She’s more than his sire,” Angel said quietly. “She’s his…everything. They’ve been together for over a hundred years; he won’t leave until he makes her well.”

“Well, if it isn’t blood she needs,” Buffy tried to smother the jealousy that hearing Drusilla referred to as Spike’s “everything’ sent stabbing through her, “then what is it?”

“Sire’s blood,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall. “She needs Sire’s blood to heal. That’s why he’s here; he’s here for me.”

The entire group of humans gaped at the souled vampire until he bristled.

“What? Giles, surely you know how important Sire’s blood is to vampires. It’s what feeds us when we first crawl out of our graves, and it can cure us if we’re hurt or sick. The only thing close to it would be—“ He broke off abruptly, but the guilty look he shot at Buffy left no doubt about what he’d been about to say.

“Slayer blood,” she said flatly. “He could use my blood to heal her too.”

“He could, but he won’t,” Angel’s snarl and flashing amber eyes were a sudden reminder that he was an even older vampire than Spike or Drusilla.

“Hey, no problem, then.” Xander spoke up for the first time all night. “We’ll just feed Deadboy here to the crazy vampire.”

“We’re not feeding anybody to Spike’s …to Drusilla.” Buffy spoke with conviction, glaring around the room and daring anyone to contradict her. “We…I will find a way to make them leave.”

“Or you could just slay them.” Her Watcher’s voice was cold and harsh. “You have an opportunity to take out two of the remaining three members of the Scourge of Europe, Buffy. I fail to understand why you don’t consider that your first option.”

“Yeah, Buff, why aren’t you all about the slaying of the slayer of slayers? And do NOT try saying that at home!” Xander added as they all stared at him.

Because all I see when I look at him is a brave little boy who took care of me for a few days last year? Oh yeah, that’ll go over well, almost as well as “because he kissed me and rocked my world.” Gah!”

“Yes, Buffy,” Angel’s voice was almost as hard as her Watcher’s. “Why is it that neither of you is dead yet?”

Tired of the pretense, of lying to the people who cared about her, and too preoccupied to watch what she was saying, Buffy snapped back in a tone just as hard as theirs, “Because neither of us wants the other dead.”

“Can you explain why?”

She could hear the struggle to control his temper in his voice, and she sent Giles a warning glare before giving up and allowing her shoulders to slump with submission.

“I could, but I really don’t feel like it. Can’t you just take my word for it that he isn’t going to kill me?”

Angel stood up, his impatience clear.

“I’ve had enough. I’m going to get to the bottom of this and I’m going to do it now.”

He started out of the room, stopping when Buffy sprinted to the door to block his way.

“Where are you going?”

“To find Spike and Dru and get him to tell me what kind of game he’s playing. You may not want to dust him, but I have no problem with it.”

“Are you going to dust Drusilla too?” Buffy had spent some time recently poring over Giles’ books on vampire families and had a better understanding of the ties between sire and childe.

The vampire shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with the small blond girl glaring at him and waiting for an answer. When he saw that she wasn’t going to give it up and that the watcher was looking at him coldly, he sighed in resignation.

“I would rather not,” he admitted softly. “I’m completely responsible for Drusilla’s…condition…and I feel I owe her—“

“So then, you are going to take over care of the insane vampiress after you dust her mate?” The Watcher’s voice was even and gave no sign as to what he was thinking.

“They aren’t mated!” Angel snarled, startling the humans in the room into silence. Buffy’s eyes were wide with shock at the vehemence with which the normally placid vampire responded to Giles’ question.

“But all the council’s books say—“

“The books are wrong.” Angel’s voice was quieter, but no less sure. “Dru has never allowed Spike to claim her. He is just a toy and a…caretaker.”

Buffy bristled on Spike’s behalf at the tone of contempt in Angel’s voice.

“He’s been a ‘toy’ for over a hundred years? This vampire that you keep telling me is too dangerous for me to take on by myself?” Buffy’s disbelief was obvious, though her quickly-smothered joy at hearing that Spike and Drusilla were not mated was not so apparent to anyone but herself.

“Tell me, Angel,” Giles refused to let the subject go. “Who will become Drusilla’s caretaker if you dust William the Bloody?”

Angel’s nostrils flared in irritation. “It’s not my problem,” he muttered. “She’ll turn herself another…companion.”

“And I’m supposed to let that happen? She gets a free pass to kill somebody just because you don’t like Spike?”

“Fine!” Angel’s impatient snarl gave them a quick glance at what he might have been like without his soul. “I won’t dust the blond menace. Satisfied?” He stalked towards the door, growling under his breath, “Unless he does something to piss me off.”

“Do. Not. Dust. Spike.” Buffy’s voice was pure Slayer and there was no mistaking the threat underlying her order.

The vampire didn’t answer, just continued out the doors leaving them swinging back and forth behind him.

“Hey, here’s an idea, Buff.” Xander spoke up eagerly. “Why not dust all three of them? Poof! No more Scourge of Europe.”

“I HEARD that!” Angel’s outraged roar floated back to them.

“You were meant to!” Xander responded, but much more quietly. As much as he disliked the vampire, he never forgot that the only thing standing between Angel and Angelus was a non-visible soul. Nor did he forget that the vampire disliked him in equal measure.

After once again refusing to tell Giles why she was so confident that Spike wasn’t going to kill her, Buffy left the library and walked Willow home. They strolled in silence for several blocks before Willow ventured, “Buffy? William the Bloody – does he have anything to do with… I mean obviously he’s a grown man, but he had to be a little boy sometime and it’s about the right time frame and…” She stopped rambling for a breath of air and found Buffy staring at her in amazement.

“How…?”

Willow blushed and admitted, “I loved your story about little William and how brave he was and how he took care of you and wrote you a poem. And I remembered that you said that he was blond and had beautiful blue eyes, so I did some research…It IS him, isn’t it? It’s William, all grown up?”

Buffy sighed, releasing the tension she’d been carrying around for weeks and grateful to have someone to talk to about Spike.

“Yes,” she said softly. “It’s him. All grown up.”

“And a vampire,” Willow felt constrained to point out.

“And a vampire,” Buffy agreed with a groan. “Not just any vampire, but Angel’s grandchilde and one that has killed two slayers.”

“And he remembers you?” Willow’s voice carried more than a touch of awe. “After all this time? I mean, I know it’s only been a year for you – but for him it’s been….” She looked at her best friend with renewed respect. “Wow. I meet guys and they can’t remember my name the next day. And you…and he…Wowie.”

“Yeah, well, things would be a lot easier if we didn’t remember each other. Then he’d be dust and Giles wouldn’t be cleaning his glasses and grumbling all the time, and Angel wouldn’t be such a sourpuss.”

“Uh, Buffy?”

Her friend cocked her head in inquiry.

“Giles is always cleaning his glasses about something. And Angel? Pretty much a sourpuss most of the time. I don’t think it’s fair to blame it on Spike…er…William.”

“Bloody brilliant observation there, Red.” The rich, warm voice came out of the shadows just before Spike stepped out where they could see him.

While Willow gaped at the smiling vamp, wondering if his promise not to kill Buffy would extend to her friends, Buffy glared at him and demanded, “Are you following me again?”

“Jus’ happened to be walking this way, pet; don’t get your knickers in a twist. You should have known I was here, anyway. What’s the matter with your vamp radar?”

The tone of concern in his voice wasn’t lost on either of the girls and Willow shot Buffy a speculative look before stammering, “We…she was busy talking to me and it’s Sunnydale so you know, vampires everywhere…and-“ She stopped and looked at Buffy again. “Why DIDN’T you feel him, Buffy? Didn’t you tell me you can always tell when Angel’s around?”

“I’m not Angel!”

“He’s not Angel!”

There was silence for a few seconds, both blonds somewhat abashed by their immediate identical responses. Then Buffy shrugged and admitted, “I knew he was around. I just didn’t know he was eavesdropping on us,” she added with another glare.

Completely unfazed by her scowl, Spike smirked and said, “Knew you knew it was me. Bloody bint - pretendin’ you didn’t know I was here. Shame on you, Slayer.”

He grinned at her, obviously pleased with himself at catching her out.

“So, why ARE you here, Spike? And don’t try to tell me you were just out for a walk, either.” A look of fear crossed her face. “Were you hunting? Did you just kill somebody?”

Her heart was pounding as she reached for the stake in her waistband. To Willow’s complete amazement, instead of moving away in fear, the vampire stepped closer to the Slayer and put a gentle hand on hers pushing the stake back into its resting place.

“Easy, luv. I wasn’t hunting. I’d just left you a gift and was on my way back from your house. Heard you two chattering and thought I’d catch up and introduce myself to your pretty little friend here.”

Willow blushed all over at the appreciative wink from the vampire she’d identified the first time she’d seen him as a “hottie”. She ducked her head and peered at him through her hair, whispering a tentative, “Hi?”

Buffy smothered another pang of jealousy as Spike let go of her to take Willow’s hand in his and gently shake it. He held it just long enough to make the novice witch blush again as he purred, “I feel a lot of power flowing through this little hand, Red. Into the magic, are you then?”

“Willow’s going to be a very powerful witch,” Buffy put in quickly, pulling her friend back from the smiling vampire. “She’s my right-hand…witch,” she finished lamely.

Spike’s attention was back on Buffy as Willow began edging toward her front walk. She could see that neither of them was interested in talking to her anymore that night;she quickly mumbled a “good night” as she ran toward her front door.


Chapter Eight

The Slayer and the vampire barely acknowledged Willow’s departure as they stood only inches apart on the sidewalk. Buffy felt her heart rate go up again as Spike looked like he was about to touch her; her disappointment when he moved away instead made her sound angry as she said, “Angel says you’re here for him. That you need sire’s blood to make your…Drusilla…well. Is that true? Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes, pet, that’s why I’m here. There are only two things that have a chance of repairing the kind of damage that mob did to her, and one of them is the blood of her sire. ‘Course, I don’t know if the great poof is going to give it up willingly…”

“I won’t let you hurt him, Spike.” She spoke as firmly, if not as threateningly, as she had to Angel.

He cocked his head at her, asking with genuine puzzlement, “Why’s that, luv? Even with that soul he got saddled with, he’s still just another vamp.”

Buffy started to fidget guiltily, then remembered that the vampire was here with his long-time girlfriend and brought her chin up defiantly.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she said strongly, meeting his darkening look with a stubborn lip.

“He’s your what?” Spike’s snarl made her flinch in spite of herself; his eyes flashed amber and she could see the bones in his face beginning to shift before he regained control of himself. With a visible effort, he forced back the demon and said tightly, “Knew I smelled him on you, but I never imagined… Buffy, luv, he’s not…you shouldn’t…bloody hell, Slayer! Do you know who he is?”

“I know who he was before he got his soul. But that was a long time ago, and he’s good now. He helps me, and he…he…likes me.”

Instead of arguing with her, he stepped close again and ran his hand over her hair, lingering when he reached the ends that were hanging just above her breast.

“I like you too, luv,” he whispered. “The more I see of you, the more I…like you.”

Buffy trembled at his proximity, remembering how it felt to be pressed against the body now standing so close to hers. He leaned down, his cool breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “Do you like me, luv? Just a little?”

“Y…you…you’re a vampire…you don’t have a soul…you kill Slayers…” Her voice was more of a petulant whine than a firm denial.

“Don’t want to kill YOU, Buffy. Just want to…” his lips brushed across her mouth, wringing an involuntary whimper from her as she pushed him away.

“Don’t,” she breathed. “Please don’t. You have a…a girlfriend. A vampire, like you.” She shuddered and moved back out of reach. “You need to stay away from me.”

“If I was a gentleman, I probably would,” he said cheerfully. “But I’m just a bad, rude man – er, vampire, and I don’t want to stay away from you. In fact…” He moved toward her, frowning when she continued to back away from him.


His demeanor made another mercurial switch from cocky vampire to uncertain gentleman as she continued to back away, shaking her head vigorously.

“Don’t be afraid of me, luv. Please. I’ll not hurt you or yours. I swear it.”

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, William,” she whispered, blushing.

Sudden understanding shone in his eyes and they softened until she was sure she could see the proper little boy she’d met last year reflected there.

“I won’t push you, pet. Won’t ask you for anything you’re not ready to give. Wouldn’t presume…I just want to be around you, Buffy, while I can. Can’t help what you do to me, but I wouldn’t force myself on you.”

His expressive human face went from anxious to happy as he absorbed the fact that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to want to touch you,” he added, moving cautiously so as not to frighten her. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you…” His hand gently tipped her face up until he could brush his lips over hers while he murmured soothingly. He heard the pounding of her heart as he whispered against her trembling mouth. “But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable, Slayer.”

Hearing him call her Slayer snapped Buffy out of her lust-induced immobility and she shook herself regretfully before placing her hands against his hard chest.

“It does make me uncomfortable, Spike,” she said clearly, holding him off with both hands but not pushing him away yet. “It makes me uncomfortable for a lot of reasons.”

With a sigh of resignation, the vampire reluctantly let go of her chin and backed away a few steps.

“All right, luv. Walk with me a bit and tell me what is so awful about spending some time kissing an old friend.”

“We’re not old friends, Spike,” she said with a sigh, turning toward Revello Drive. “We’re just two people who knew each other for a few days a long time ago. In your case, a VERY long time ago.”

“Didn’t you like William?” The hurt in his voice was real and she had a sudden flashback to worshipful eyes and a tremulous smile.

“Of course I did! I do – did, like William. You know I did. But you…you aren’t him anymore, are you?”

“I am when I’m around you,” he said quietly. “I’m more like him than I ever expected or wanted to be again.” His admission that William’s Victorian manners and gentle nature were at odds with the vampire he’d become was just the right touch of honesty it took for her to believe him.

“And when you aren’t around me?” Her voice was a sad whisper.

“I am what I am, Slayer. I’m a 124-year-old master vampire who was turned and taught his trade by three of the most bloodthirsty and evil demons of modern time. Can’t change that. Wouldn’t if I could. Grown-up William was more than a bit of a ponce; a mummy’s boy who would rather write poetry than earn a living. No one respected him; no one wanted him. If he hadn’t had a few tricks up his sleeve, thanks to a pretty visitor from the land of elves,” - he sent her a sideways glance happy to see a small smile touch her lips – “he probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to catch Dru’s attention. As it was, he got beat up fairly often. Even though some blokes DID learn that if he was sufficiently frightened he could be bloody creative in his own defense,” he finished dryly.

“So now you get back at all those people by killing and eating total strangers who had nothing to do with anything that happened to you before you were turned?”

Buffy’s angry tone told him he’d been a little too honest in his reply and he growled softly to himself.

“I’m a bloody vampire, Buffy!”

“So is Angel,” she answered quietly. “He doesn’t kill innocent people.”

Spike’s eyes flashed amber and his forehead began to furrow. With a visible effort, he once again fought down his demon although his response came out sounding more like a growl than actual words.

“Angelus is the same selfish, ill-tempered, impatient bastard he always was. Soul or no soul. I don’t know what has set him on this quest to be good – other than the chance to get into your virginal little knickers – but he hasn’t been like that for most of the past 200 years and I don’t believe it’s a way of life now. If he’s concerning himself with the welfare of ‘innocent people’ I can guarantee you he has some kind of ulterior motive. I didn’t trust him then, and I don’t trust him now.”

Buffy’s face couldn’t hide her dismay and anger - dismay that Spike refused to believe that Angel could be good; and anger that he could allude so crudely to her relationship with the souled vampire.

“Just because you can’t keep your hands off –you have no right to accuse Angel of—how dare you!”

“I dare because I know the bloody wanker, better than you ever will. He didn’t leave us the minute he got that soul. We had the pleasure of his brooding company for years before the tart finally tossed him out on his arse. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and he has a thing for young girls. Always has – since before he was turned.”

His voice changed from an angry growl to a soft, pleading whisper that Buffy reacted to in spite of herself.

“I’m not trying to scare you, luv. Or spoil your love life. But I know him, and he will hurt you. Sooner or later, the bastard will hurt you and I…I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn you about him.”

His face showed nothing but genuine concern and a bit of longing that she chose not to see. They had stopped walking to yell at each other and he moved closer to her so that he could gently stroke the side of her face.

“Just don’t let him hurt you, luv; that’s all I’m saying. Be careful. Find yourself a nice high school boy,and leave the poof to do his brooding by himself.”

“Well, that would be a good solution if I could actually find one who had the same effect on me that some vampires apparently do,” she grumbled, missing the way his eyes lit up at her use of the plural.

“Well,” he grinned as they started walking again, “I didn’t say go find one right now. Maybe after I leave…”

The reminder that he was there only temporarily to cure his long-time girlfriend was all Buffy needed to firm up her resolve. As they reached the corner of Revello Drive within view of her well-lit house, she stopped again and turned to face him.

“I don’t know why you and Angel hate each other so much – and I don’t think I want to know. But whatever it is, you need to work it out without bloodshed. I…I don’t want you killing each other – and I don’t want to have to kill one or the other of you to prevent it.”

“Well, if the bloody poofter will accept his responsibility and give Dru what she needs from him—“

“Didn’t I just say I didn’t want you to kill each other? What makes you think I’m going to let you feed him to your crazy girlfriend?” Buffy’s voice was high and shrill and the vampire shushed her quickly when he saw someone look out of one of the houses.

“Shhh, pet. Gonna bring your neighbors out if you keep that up.”

“Duh! It’s the hellmouth, Spike. Nobody goes out of their nice safe home after dark unless it’s on fire or something. Don’t change the subject. I’m not going to let you kill Angel to save your skanky girlfriend.”

He cocked his head at her and said curiously, “Have your watcher and Angelus not told you anything about vampire bites, Buffy?”

“You mean other than, ‘don’t get one if you can help it’? What else is there to know?”

“Exchanging blood is a big part of vampire life, Slayer. We bite each other all the time. We can even bite humans without killing if we want to. Dru doesn’t have to kill Angelus to get well – she just needs some of his blood in her system. She wouldn’t kill him if she had to,” he added bitterly. “Trust me. She cares more about that wanker than you do.”

“I sooo don’t want to know what you mean by that,” Buffy muttered, surprised when the vampire readily agreed with her.

“I don’t want you to know what I mean by it either, luv,” he said quietly. “I hope you never know.”

She frowned at him quizzically, but he didn’t elaborate; there was an uncomfortable silence before Buffy said reluctantly, “Well. I’m home and I should get in before my mother wonders where I’ve been all this time.”

“She doesn’t know? Your own mum doesn’t know you’re the Slayer?”

“My mother is a busy woman. She doesn’t know lots of things that she doesn’t need to, and my being the Slayer is definitely one of those things she doesn’t need to know. She would wig.”

“I think it’s a mistake to keep something like that from your mum, luv,” he said, sounding very much like an adult speaking to a child. “The woman has a right to know—“

“To know that I’m out every night killing things? That I might not come back one of these nights? What good would that do? She’d just worry herself to death or order me to quit being the Slayer or some other pointless something. We went through this when I was first called; my parents didn’t want to know then, and they don’t want to know now.”

He picked up on the sorrow in her voice and without thinking about what he was doing or the public street upon which they were standing, he put his arms around her and gave her a comforting hug. She stiffened, then relaxed into his embrace and laid her head on his chest. Somehow his spontaneous reaction to her tone of voice broke through all the defenses she’d set up against him and she sighed happily as he kissed the top of her head and murmured reassuring nothings into her hair.

Her hands slid around his body to hug him back and what had been a warm, chaste embrace suddenly threatened to turn into something else as he felt the inevitable tightening in his jeans. Before she could notice, he gently pushed her away, planting a final kiss on her forehead and smiling into her bewildered and disappointed face.

He rested his forehead against hers telling her softly, “Believe me, luv, I’d hold you all night if you wanted me to, but you need to go in and I need to get away from your warm little body before I start wanting things I know I’ll never have.

“Good night, Buffy,” he whispered. “Check outside your window for your gift and use it well.”

With a last quick peck on her pouting mouth, he stepped away and vanished into the night, his long strides carrying him out of sight before she could even say her own “good-night”. When she could no longer see his flapping coat and bright hair, she sighed and walked the rest of the way to her house wondering how a girl who hardly ever dated could have such a complicated love-life.

She exchanged some small talk with her mother, barely paying attention to what the older woman was saying about an upcoming trip as she mulled over Spike’s words and wondered if she was making a mistake keeping her mother in the dark about her calling. Putting the subject aside for another day, she said good-night and went up to her room.

She looked around curiously for anything new that could be construed as a gift, then realized there was no way for Spike to have left a present in her room. Frowning at her own lapse at expecting a vampire other than Angel to have access to her bedroom, she wondered briefly what he’d meant by ‘leaving her a present’. A soft breeze from the barely open window caught her attention and she walked to the window to peer out.

Lying on the slightly sloping roof just outside her window was the sword Spike had tossed her the night before. The one she had dropped when the reality of her standing in a graveyard engaging in lustful kissing with an unsouled vampire had hit and she had run off.

She leaned out the window and carefully pulled the clean and shiny sword into her bedroom, admiring the way it felt in her hand and taking some practice slashes with it. When she almost sliced through her drapes, she remembered where she was and looked around wondering where she could hide a sword that her mother wouldn’t notice it. She finally settled on wrapping it in an extra blanket and pushing it up against the wall under her bed.

She went to sleep that night with a small smile on her face and the taste of cigarettes on her lips.


 
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