REALITY BITES

CHAPTER 4

There was a light on in the house.  Buffy let Spike set her down and simply stood and memorised the place she’d lived in for such a short time but which had been more of a home to her than any other house she’d had.   She hadn’t even considered how her mom would be worried that she didn’t come home last night, hadn’t thought to check with Willow how freaked her mom had been about her absence.  What could she say to her?  Her mom didn’t even know she was the Slayer – didn’t even know what a Slayer was – so how would she explain the fangs?  And Spike – she was betting that his leather and bleach look was the type of thing her mom would see as trouble. This was going to be even tougher than she’d thought. 

 

As she gripped the door handle and tried to push the door open, she came across another problem.  The barrier.  Vampire plus no invite equalled no entry.  Buffy pushed against the invisible force in wonder; that felt so weird…

 

“Oh…stupid Buffy.  I didn’t even think of this.  Spike…what do I do now?”

 

“What, the barrier?  Well, you know what to do – the only way in is to get an invite, love.  And as the only person who lives here now is your mum, I guess you get her to do the deed.  Call her.”

 

Buffy spun round, her eyes swimming with tears again.  “I can’t – what do I say?  She’ll know something’s up if I don’t go straight in.  I don’t think I can do this…I was stupid to think that I could.  We should just…”

 

The door flew open, Joyce Summers illuminated by the hall light, showing up her uncharacteristically unkempt hair and red-rimmed eyes.

 

“Buffy!  Oh my god!  Where have you been?  I’ve been out of my mind – but the police said I should just wait – and I waited…and I called your father and you weren’t there.  Oh, Buffy!”  Joyce grabbed her daughter and wrapped her arms around her, sobbing as she patted her down to check for damage.  “You’re so cold!  Your hands are freezing – come inside and I’ll fix you a hot chocolate.  I’m just so relieved…but don’t think you’re not grounded because you are, permanently.” 

 

Joyce dragged Buffy inside, the barrier magically disappearing with Joyce’s words, not realising at first that there was another figure at her daughter’s side until Buffy stopped just inside the doorway.  Joyce turned to see what Buffy was doing, and spied the young man standing just outside.

 

“Buffy?  Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”  Whilst the words were civil, Joyce’s tone certainly was not, leaving Buffy in no doubt that Spike was not the kind of boy she approved of.

 

“Mom – this is Spike; Spike – Mom.”

 

“Hey; nice to meet you Mrs…erm...Summers.”  It took Spike a while to remember the Slayer’s surname, but he got there.

 

“Yes, I’m sure.  Well, thanks for bringing her home; we’re fine now.”  Joyce went to close the door, wanting to put the solid wood between herself and the undoubtedly attractive but dangerous-looking man on her doorstep.  That Buffy even knew such a person was a shock; but right now, just having Buffy home was the main thing.  The investigations and recriminations would come after a good night’s sleep.

 

The door didn’t budge very far though, as Buffy’s foot was firmly wedged between it and the jamb.  Joyce flinched at the flash of - was that gold in Buffy’s hazel eyes? - and the glare that her daughter was giving her.

 

“Ask Spike in, Mom.”

 

“But…”

 

“Ask him in.”

 

Oddly nervous, Joyce did so, shivering a little as Spike passed her, his duster whipping at her legs.  There was something about him that was slightly off, and the way he was gazing at Buffy was simply not appropriate, given her age.  Buffy moved her foot and leaned back against the door to close it, smiling at Joyce as if everything was normal.

 

Joyce was beginning to think that it was far from it.  But she led the way into the kitchen and set about making chocolate, busying herself to settle her thoughts and racing heart down.  What could be wrong, after all?  Buffy was back, and appeared to be safe and sound.  Hank had been right; she was just being a teenager, pushing the boundaries.  A good lecture and a month grounded would sort her out, and once this Spike person was out of the house Joyce would find out where he fit into the equation.  And get him out of it.

 

But she couldn’t resist some subtle questioning, just to put Buffy on notice that she wasn’t happy.  “So, Spike.  How do you know Buffy?” 

 

Joyce’s tone was amiable enough, but there was underlying steeliness there that Spike liked.  This lady was tough; no doubt that was where the Slayer got it from.  He had no illusion that if pushed to protect her daughter, Joyce Summers would fight like a lioness.  Before he could reply, Buffy shook her head at him and jumped in.

 

“Mom, I’ll tell you everything, but you need to sit down, ‘kay?”

 

Joyce flipped, her flimsy resolve not to start the inquest until tomorrow evaporated.  “Sit down?  Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, young lady?  You stay out all night, you come home with this…this man who is clearly a lot older than you, and you expect me to sit down?  I want to know where you’ve been, Buffy.  And who this is.” 

 

Spike growled; his mate was being spoken to in a threatening manner and the demon in him didn’t approve.  Buffy punched him in the arm to shush him, earning her a death glare that she rolled her eyes at.

 

Joyce noted the interaction between the two and it ratcheted her anger up a notch.  “Buffy?  You tell me now what’s going on, or I swear, you’ll never leave this house until you’re sixty.”

 

This was it; Buffy faltered as she looked between her mom and Spike, her old life and her new.  She’d wanted to protect her mom from the big bad world that was her everyday business, but it was too late for that now.  She couldn’t stay here, and Joyce wouldn’t let her leave voluntarily.  She had to make her mom see what she was and try to make her understand why she had to go.  And besides, just being here in the kitchen, in such a small space, Buffy was becoming increasingly aware of the pounding of her mom’s heart and it had been such a long time since she’d fed.  The tummy rumbles that had assaulted her in the cemetery returned with a vengeance and Buffy found her gaze drawn to the pulse at Joyce’s throat.  She wondered, distractedly, whether her mom’s blood would taste like her own…

 

As Buffy’s eyes glazed over, Spike realized she was about to lose it and moved to stand between the two women.  He knew the Slayer enough to know that if she harmed her mother, she’d want nothing more than to greet the sun in the morning.  He hadn’t quite figured out why that was, whether she had a soul or it was just something passed on from being the Slayer, but Buffy was not the merciless killer that most newly-turned vamps were.  She was an enigma, his enigma.  And he had to get her away from here.  Time to start the revelations rolling, then.

 

He grabbed Buffy’s upper arms and manoeuvred her to a stool, caressing her cheek before he turned his back on her and faced Joyce. The lady was glowering at him, eyes flinty with anger and threatening bloody violence.  Feisty, this one.  Somebody he could have danced with at a different time…

 

Decision made, he strode forward and grabbed Joyce by the arms too, settling her down on the stool on the opposite side of the island and silencing her indignant protests with an icy finger to her lips. 

 

“Shush, Mrs S.  Got something to show you.  Now you may not think it, but I’ve got your girl’s best interests at heart.  Nobody will harm her while I’m around.  You ready to listen?”

 

Joyce nodded, unnerved by this strange man with the mesmerising blue eyes and cheekbones sharp as a knife blade.  She was in an almost dreamlike state as she watched his features morph before her very eyes, his forehead becoming wrinkled, no – ridged, and his eyes golden.  And his teeth…he had fangs, like a tiger or a panther.  She should be scared, but she found that she was merely curious.  Definitely dreamlike…

 

Buffy seemed unperturbed by this change, looking at Spike with adoration.  She hardly seemed to have noticed the difference.  Joyce looked back at him, her own brow creasing with bewilderment.

 

“What are you?” she asked.

 

“What do I look like?” was Spike’s reply, impressed again by the complete lack of fear she was showing.  Every second spent in the company of Buffy’s mother had him respecting the lady more.  Classy woman, no doubt about it.

 

Surprising both herself and him – and shocking the hell out of Buffy – Joyce got up and went towards Spike, her hands moving over his face, stopping short of the fangs.  She took a sharp gasping breath before stepping back.  “You look like…like a vampire.  But…vampires aren’t real.  You can’t be real…”

 

“Yeah, I get that a lot.  Right before I bite through the jugular usually.  Oh, don’t worry – Buffy’s put me on a strict diet and you’re not on the menu; nobody is, apparently.  We’re doing nothing but pre-packed meals now.  Of the strictly non-human variety, excepting for high days and holidays, obviously.”

 

Buffy huffed and got to her feet, stepping to Spike’s side.  This was going better than she could have ever expected, and it was all Spike’s doing.  He’d taken charge of things, taken care of her like he’d promised he would.  But there was one final thing to do; her mom knew about vampires now – although it would probably take a while for it to sink in – but she didn’t know that her only daughter was now one of the living dead.  Joyce was looking puzzled again, trying to make sense of Spike’s cryptic words.

 

“Mom, what Spike’s trying to say within all that babble is that we’re only gonna feed on animal blood, or maybe if the blood bank’s got some spare we’ll try that.  No killing.”

 

Joyce moved her head slowly to look at her daughter.  “Blood?”  It was obviously taking a while for the synapses in her brain to connect.

 

“Blood, mom.  It’s what we eat.  How we live.  Vampires.”

 

“How you live…vampires.  What do you… what on earth do you mean…?”

 

Buffy swallowed hard.  Looked like she’d just have to come out and say it.  She grabbed hold of her mom’s hands in hers and made sure they had eye contact.

 

“I’m a vampire too, Mom.  See?”  It was getting easier, the changing faces, and Buffy’s fangs and ridges slid into place. 

 

Joyce screamed.

 

Her initial sangfroid had dissipated as her daughter became a demon in front of her eyes, and every inch of her body was screeching at her to flee.  But she was still this demon’s mother, and there was no doubt that her daughter was in trouble.  As Buffy continued to grip onto her hands, her scream ebbed away and she calmed, the only sign of her agitation her racing heart and terrified eyes.

 

Spike strode to Buffy’s side, giving her support by his presence.  He changed back to human guise, Buffy following suit, in an effort to put her mom at ease.

 

“I’m sorry, Mom.  I know it’s a shock – it was a shock to me, too.  But I can’t change what I am now, nor what I was before.”

 

Joyce’s bottom lip quivered as she gazed into Buffy’s earnest eyes.  She was still her baby.  “Oh, my darling.  Tell me everything, let me help you.”

 

Buffy nodded, swallowing down sobs, wondering where to start.  “Well, you remember in LA when I said there were vampires…and you didn’t believe me?  Well…there were.  Oh, but you probably got that because…I am and he is…so…yeah.  And I am…was…the vampire slayer, one girl chosen in all the world.  But let’s skip all that because Giles can fill you in when we’re gone.”

 

“Gone?  Giles?  Buffy, you’re not making any sense.  What’s a vampire slayer?  And why were you it?”

 

“ Chosen , Mom.  One girl in all the world?  You remember Giles, the librarian from my school, he’s my Watcher.”  Buffy was searching her mom’s face for any sign of all this information registering.  Didn’t seem to be.  “Mom, I don’t have time to go through this with you now.  Go and see Giles, he’ll tell you everything.  Please, trust me.”

 

“But, Buffy…no, this is too much.  Look, why don’t you go to bed, and we’ll sort this out in the morning.  I can’t think straight right now -- I didn’t sleep last night.  I must be imagining things.”  It was all becoming muddled in Joyce’s head – vampires and slayers and fangs, things of nightmares.  Self-preservation kicked in – the brain couldn’t deal with all the information being thrown at it, and Joyce just needed to be unconscious.

 

Joyce stood up, started to pace, muttering to herself.  Buffy turned imploring eyes on Spike, but he had no answer for her.  He could hardly advise her how to deal with her mother when the way he’d dealt with his own had ended so badly.  No, the best thing to do was to get away from here, and soon.  It would be sunrise before long and if they didn’t leave they’d be stuck here another day. He didn’t trust the watcher and he certainly didn’t trust Angel.  The sooner there was an ocean between them the better for all concerned.

 

He darted in front of Joyce Summers, stopping her pacing, and forcing her to listen.  “Bollocks to this.  Look, it’s simple.  Buffy can’t stay here, you’ve seen what she is now – a vampire.   A vampire kills and slaughters and revels in the bloodshed and pretty soon, despite all her flowery promises, if we stay here much longer she’ll be hungry and you’ll be lunch.  You get it?  Now go, hug, do what you have to, but we’re out of here.”

 

Spike turned his back, intent on getting back to Buffy before the inevitable waterworks started up, so the clonk of the frying pan on the back of his head took him by surprise.

 

“Ow!  You bloody bint, what d’you think you’re doing?”  He snarled as he turned round to find the Slayer’s mum gripping the pan in both hands and moving in for round two.

 

“Get the hell away from my daughter,” Joyce spat out, intent on getting this insane person away from Buffy and removing his obviously bad influence.  She raised the pan high but her wrist was gripped at the top of her swing before she could move, Spike’s face inches from hers.

 

“Don’t think so, Mum.  I’m gonna let the first blow go for Buffy’s sake, but ‘m not keen on another lump on the noggin.  Now, play nice.”  Joyce relaxed her grip, seeing no other option, letting Spike take the pan from her.  She crumpled and sagged back onto the stool, eyes now streaming with tears.  Despite her assault, Spike felt sorry for her, the compassion that Angel always taunted him with making its presence felt.  He tried to explain.  “You really don’t get this, do you?  We’re vampires – grrrrr nasty!!  Buffy’s not your little girl anymore.  She’s a stone cold killer, and if she stays here it’ll end badly, for you and for her.”

 

Joyce recovered enough to reply, weakly.  “She’ll always be my little girl…”

 

Buffy sobbed and threw herself into her mom’s arms, clinging on for just a little while to the warm, familiar flesh.  Warm flesh, flushed with blood; blood that pumped just below the surface and made untried fangs thrust through tender gums.  Despite her best efforts, Buffy couldn’t help but inhale her mom’s scent and salivate at the thought of gulping down warm, sweet blood.  It was taking supreme effort of will not to tear out the throat millimetres from her fangs, and it seemed that Spike knew because before she could act on that impulse, he was there, dragging her away and pushing her behind him. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing?  Move out of my way, right this minute!”  Joyce was indignant, trying to push past Spike and get to Buffy, but she was stopped by a vice-like grip on her arm, Spike holding her away from his mate to give Buffy time to calm down and get a hold of herself. 

 

“Can’t do that, love.  My girl’s struggling as it is, and you goin’ all touchy feely with her isn’t helping.  Now, if I let go, you’ll sit down, yeah?”

 

Joyce struggled a little, but when it became clear she wasn’t strong enough to break Spike’s grip, she nodded and he let her go to slide back onto the stool.  Buffy moved around him to take his hand, now back to human face, although she was shaking at the thought of what she’d almost done.

 

“Mom, we have to leave now.  I can’t be around you, around anyone, it’s too hard.  I’m not in control of myself and just one slip and…I almost bit you, did you know that?  You were holding me to make me feel better and I wanted to rip your throat out and drink your blood.  I can’t do this; I’m not strong enough.  Maybe one day…”

 

She left the rest unsaid and Joyce was wise enough to know not to push.  She was deeply shocked to think that while Buffy had been snuffling into her neck, she was really checking out dinner.  Maybe it would be best to put some distance between them until they’d both got used to the changes.  Joyce knew that tomorrow she would cry and lament Buffy’s leaving but right now it was time to say goodbye.  At least this Spike character seemed to genuinely have Buffy’s best interests at heart, and he was certainly strong enough to look after her, the bruises on her arms were testament to that.

 

Joyce helped Buffy to pack a bag, making sure to stay well out of reach, just in case.   When it was done, mother and daughter stared at each other, unsure what to say and how to take their leave of each other.  It was surreal.  Spike intervened once more, hollering up the stairs for Buffy to ‘move her arse’.

 

It was time to go.  On the doorstep, Buffy dared one more hug, avoiding getting anywhere near Joyce’s throat.  “Bye, Mom.  Take care of yourself.  I don’t know when…if…I’ll be back, but I’ll call you.  And go see Giles, okay?  He’ll be able to explain everything you need to know.  And don’t freak with Willow and Xander; they couldn’t tell you anything, it was a big secret.  Sounds kinda stupid now…”

 

“I’ll go and see him, and don’t worry.  I won’t be scary mom with your friends, although I can’t promise not to slap Giles once or twice.  I’m a little jealous, I confess, that he’s been such a big part of your life and I knew nothing about it.  So maybe I’ll make him nervous, just for fun.”

 

Joyce’s upbeat words belied the tears that threatened to spill as she waved her only daughter off with a total stranger.  She managed to keep the smile fixed on her face until Buffy was out of sight and the door was firmly shut against the monsters she now knew roamed in the night. 

 

+ + + +

 

Spike and Buffy made their way to the docks, mostly in silence.  Spike carried Buffy’s holdall, darting glances beneath lowered lids every now and then to check that she was all right.  She was still upset, but he sensed her excitement too and that would do for a start.  He’d soon make her forget her life here, show her the good side of being a vampire.  He’d work on the Buffy imposed diet restriction too.  Once he showed her how to hunt, she’d come round, want the taste of hot human blood pooling on her tongue.  It would only take time, and time they had in abundance.

 

“Well, pet.  This is it.  Say goodbye to Sunnyhell or whatever it’s called, and get your sweet arse on that ship.  Gonna be a long trip, and I’m not sure where we’ll end up; think you can put up with me, kitten?  All alone…you and me…nothing to do…”

 

Buffy smiled and turned towards him.  It was weird, really.  Here she was, leaving her mom, her home, her friends and yeah, she was sad – but mostly she was eager to find out what was out there.  Freedom, hopefully. The whole world…and lots of hot sex…She laughed.

 

“What’s so funny, Slayer?”

 

“Oh, nothing.  Just thinking…there is something we can do…alone.  If you want to…”  She dipped her head coyly, not believing the words tripping out of her mouth.

 

“Yeah?  Well, lead the way and show me what you’ve got in mind.  You know me – I like living dangerously.” 

 

Spike tilted his head and smirked, following Buffy as she located a way onto the ship at the far end of the dock.  He admired the sway of her hips as she walked up the gangway, feeling his cock harden in anticipation of the many, many ways they’d get to know each other before the voyage was over.  He almost lost his footing as Buffy smiled sweetly and called back to him.

 

“So, Spike…tell me about this Dru.”

 

THE END