Her mom had wasted no time in joining Buffy in safety behind the closed bedroom door, and Buffy was thankful she had just finished smoothing the last remaining evidence of the previous night's passion from the thrashed bed linen. She found her mom wearing the same repulsed look on her face in response to the carnage, and Buffy couldn't help the shiver of disgust that made its way down her spine.
Yes, so she could splice a demon open right down the middle, and fillet it from head to toe and not suffer a quiver of protest from her iron-clad stomach. But pulverize some little rodents that were stupid enough to move into the piping above her stove?
That was beyond the bad. No way was she equipped to deal with that one.
So Buffy and her mom played catch up, while trying not to dwell on the gruesome task being performed several flights below them. They made sure to keep things light, neither willing to get into the serious agenda quite yet. Overwhelming feelings of just how much they had both missed during the year struck hard, but they were determined to stick to their promise of the night before. No more tears. The time for that was over.
Fifteen minutes had passed, the lingering stench of what had been unleashed in the kitchen had faded to a tolerable level, and both were just basking in being together again. Curled up against each other on the big antique bed, it was easy to push away any unpleasant thoughts, as Buffy got the scoop on neighbors, her mom's job, and Joyce's current life in general.
It was soon to be interrupted however.
"HOLY BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!" It was a roar that reverberated through the walls, and if the neighbors heard, Buffy wouldn't be surprised. Both she and her mother visibly started at the loud sudden commotion, looking at each other in confusion before erupting in hysterical laughter.
"Oh my god, what do you think happened?" Buffy managed to gasp.
Her mom couldn't respond, just shook her dumbly, eyes full of mirth. Another shout from below them reached their ears.
"You bints better not be up there laughing, or I'll be coming up there and ripping your throats out, I will!"
Buffy's mom amused look immediately turned fearful, and she looked to her daughter for support. Buffy rolled her eyes, her laughter dying down.
"Please. Do you know how often he tells me that? Try at least twice a day. Spike's big with the empty threats. He's not going to hurt you."
"What about Rupert?"
"Spike's not like that anymore."
"I can see that, but don't you think Mr. Giles has pushed him a bit since we arrived?" Her mom settled a pointed look upon her daughter.
A flash of fear shadowed Buffy's face. "You're going to make me go down there, aren't you?"
Her mom didn't reply, just continued to look at Buffy with an expression that she remembered well. The one that told her that arguing was futile.
Allowing a nauseated pout to settle across her full lips, Buffy whined, "Fine, but you're coming with me."
Not waiting for a response, Buffy flounced over to the door, her hand reaching slowly for the knob. With just an inch separating her fingertips from the steel knob, Buffy hesitated, her motions stilled as if by their own accord.
Her mom's profoundly spoken "Buffy," had her head turning to send a pleading glance in her mother's direction. "Go."
"Fine. I'm gooo-ing"
Joyce couldn't help but smile at her daughter's antics, heartened to realize that some things hadn't changed. However, she quickly realized that she had to follow, and her amusement came to an end. Maybe it hadn't been such a hot idea to send Buffy to check up on Rupert. He was a big boy. Surely he could handle one civilized vampire?
Not able to contain the shudder that gripped her, Joyce moved to follow Buffy through the opened bedroom door.
The stench became stronger the closer they got, the clank of tools and muttered British obscenities the only sounds heard. Suddenly, a high pitched squealing noise rent the air, followed by shouts of panic from Spike.
Ignoring her own disgust for the moment, Buffy practically ran the remaining steps that separated her from her husband, not trying to shrug off the tendrils of fear that squeezed her. Capable, assessing eyes quickly went to work to pinpoint the threat, scoping the room in a smooth, organized fashion.
Then her jaw dropped.
"Bloody hell, Watcher! Keep the soddin' bag open!!!"
"I assure you, that is precisely what I am doing." Tweed jacket off, sleeves rolled up, Giles held the mouth of the black garbage bag as wide as it would allow. And as far away from his body as possible. "Would you just drop the bloody thing in already? I would like to retain some semblance of hearing from this."
"What does it look I'm trying to do?" Spike growled, his hand wielding a pair of long tipped forceps. He finally accomplished his task, and with a triumphant shout, snatched the now closed bag away from Giles's hands, and threw it to the floor, oblivious to Buffy's presence.
Buffy was still trying to wrap her brain about what she had just seen when she saw Spike lift his booted foot over the moving bag on the floor.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Spike's head shot up to lock eyes with her, and she realized he was in game face. "What's it look like I'm bloody doing? I'm killing the soddin' thing."
Buffy drew herself up in self-righteousness. "No you're not! You're going to take it outside and let it go."
"Are you bloody mental? I'm not letting it go."
"Yes, you are."
Buffy watched as Spike and her Watcher exchanged a look of disbelief, then he turned his amber eyes back in her direction. "Buffy, the thing deserves to die. You have no idea."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest pointedly. Spike turned to see if her mother could talk some sense into the silly bint, but saw that her body language mirrored her daughter's.
"This is ridiculous," Spike snarled, snatching the bag up and heading towards the front door, once again forgoing a jacket as he stomped out on to the porch, slamming the door behind him.
Immediately upon the abrupt departure, Giles once again pinned disappointed eyes upon his slayer; his mouth a tight disproving line.
Buffy felt like she was living a Twilight Zone episode. Maybe like the one she barely remembered watching on a Thanksgiving day marathon a long time ago, where the little kid rolled under the bed and straight into an alternate universe. Because maybe when she and Spike where embarking on their wild sex-capades of the night before, that somehow happened to her.
It was only a mere minute before Spike came stomping back inside, shaking snow off him as he stalked into the kitchen, still wearing the face of his demon, much to Buffy's surprise.
"Geez, Spike. It was just a mouse,"
He whirled on her. "It wasn't just a mouse, Buffy."
"Oh my goodness, there wasn't anything... demonic about it, was there?" Joyce asked with concern, coming to stand next to her daughter in a show of support.
Spike snorted. "Right. No such thing, Joyce."
"It, er... taunted us." Giles admitted, exchanging a very brief mutual look of understanding with Spike, who nodded his agreement.
"It taunted you? Like stuck its tongue out and went 'neener neener neener'?" Buffy's voice was full of skepticism.
"No, Buffy," Spike replied scornfully. "It played little shit games with us, is what, when it should have been chopped up into bitty pieces like the rest of his family."
"Thanks for the visual," Buffy grimaced, realizing that by allowing the mouse to live, she had dealt a serious blow to not only Spike's manhood, but apparently Giles' as well. She looked over at the two men who were standing there with a shared camaraderie over a renegade mouse, and found a small amount of amusement at the situation.
Taking a deep breath, she sucked it in and tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry I made you let it go, I didn't realize. Why don't you go hunt it down," she suggested brightly.
Surprise flickered in the deep recesses of his eyes, and an embarrassed smile graced his face. "Nah, that's ok. Still got his family to take care of. Want to help the Watcher and me?"
"No! As in, a world of." Buffy quickly turned tail to head out of the kitchen, her mom right at her heels.
If you are under the age of 17, please use your head and do not read fics that are labeled "NC-17". Parents, I cannot control what your children are reading, so please be advised that the majority of the fics archived here are NOT suitable for those under the age of 17.
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I am in no way making any profit from this site. This is for pure entertainment purposes only.
Concept: (c)bringonthebloodshed.com (2004), Code & Design: (c)Diabola (2006), Graphics: Selene & Always