Chapter 30 - Contracts

“You’ve got yourself a deal, love.”

“There are conditions,” Buffy said, holding up a finger.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“You can’t be killing.”

“I figured as much.” He looked uninterested.

“I’m serious, Spike,” she said firmly. “I can deal with it—just. I can just deal with it if I know you’re not doing it now. Can you not do it?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?”

“No. I want your word.”

“What?”

“I was told that you keep your word. I can’t ask you to come with me if you’re going to be killing people. I can’t take you there, knowing that—” Buffy broke off.

Spike studied her a moment. “I give you my word that I won’t kill anyone.”

“Good.”

He smirked. “Unless you tell me to.”

Buffy glared at him. “I also have the final word on the Slaying and how it’s done. I’ll expect you to train with me and watch my back on patrol. Help me fight if it gets ugly, and help me when I have to fight the vampires in charge. Do you agree?”

“Yes.” Then he grinned. “Now, about your end of the deal. How much?”

“What?”

“How much blood?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Buffy stammered. “I’d have to look that up, medically. I mean, I can’t end up anemic or anything.”

“Fair enough. Well then, to seal the deal, I’d like a taste.”

“Here?” she squeaked. “Now?”

“No time like the present. Call it a gesture on your part.” He moved closer and brushed his lips with hers. “You knew this would happen,” he said, “or you wouldn’t have downed that oversized drink before coming here.”

“Okay, fine,” Buffy said, tilting her head awkwardly. “Um, go ahead, I guess.”

Spike moved his attentions to her neck, and she felt rather than saw his face change. He ran his tongue over her skin, and settling on a spot, began to suck, pulling the blood to the surface. A moment later, his fangs pierced her flesh.

Buffy gasped. It hurt more than she thought it would. On instinct she tried to back up and pull away, but he countered, grabbing her arms and pushing her up against the wall. Spike had her trapped with his body, and Buffy realized that she didn’t have the leverage to push him off. He could drain her right here and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.

No, he won’t. / What if he can’t stop?

Buffy felt her head spin, but Spike had already pulled out. Her hand flew to her neck, and she realized that he was holding her up.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes, I can stand,” she snapped, shaking him off. She was still between him and the wall, and he didn’t move away.

“No need to get snarky, love. It was your idea.” He was out of vamp face, but he licked his lips appreciatively. He trailed his hand over hers where it covered the puncture on her neck.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. You should put some antiseptic on that, though. Don’t have any here.”

Buffy stared at him. “The vampire is worried about antiseptic?”

“I’m just saying.” Spike shrugged, letting his hand drop. He turned. “C’mon, where you parked?”

“You’re going to walk me to my car?” she asked, her mouth falling open.

“That blood’ll be callin’ to every nasty thing around. Can’t very well have you gettin’ killed, not when I’ve had an advance.”

“Yeah, it’s cause you got paid that I’d get killed.”

He smirked, opening the door. “You do realize you’ve made a deal with the devil, Slayer?”

“Yes. Which is why I’m not going to tell anyone, and neither are you,” she said as they walked out. “And don’t call me that.”

“It’s what you are.”

“Shut up. What do you know?” She started up the stairs to the street.

“I know a thing or two about Slayers.”

“Fine. Are you working for me right now?”

“No.”

Buffy realized what that meant, among other things, but tried not to think about it. “Well, are you going to follow me on patrol?”

“Probably.”

“Do it from a distance. Don’t show up unless something goes wrong, and don’t bug Wesley anymore. Or threaten him. He’s practically having fits.”

“Fine,” Spike grumbled.

“You also won’t tell anyone—living, dead, or otherwise—about our deal. I’m finishing up class next week, finals the week after that, and then Mom and I are moving to the new house. You’ll come to Sunnydale no later than the beginning of the year.”

He grinned. “You’re the boss.”

They had reached her car. “I am. You’re working for me, not with me.”

He grinned again. “I’m yours to command, Slayer.”

“This is business, Spike.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“It’s nothing else.”

She got in and shut the door.

“It can’t be,” he heard her say softly.

Spike watched as Buffy drove off.

Certainly this wasn’t something he had anticipated, but he wasn’t complaining. Buffy was paying him with her own blood to stalk her and fight with her.

He wasn’t sure if he would have followed her to Sunnydale or not, if she hadn’t made her offer. He’d spent enough years trailing after one woman who didn’t want him, and he wasn’t looking to do a repeat performance.

But no matter what she said, Buffy wanted him around. On some level, at least. And he, well, he did want her alive. If that meant going with her, then so be it. Maybe something would come of it. Maybe not.

Everything else aside, there was still the Slayer blood.

Spike licked his lips again. There was nothing about this that he wasn’t going to enjoy.

Business. He could do business.

-----
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Three weeks later:

Buffy stood in Wesley’s office.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you guys. Or, maybe I won’t see you. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be back sometime, even just for a visit.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Fred said, giving her a hug. “You’ve got my email address, right?”

Buffy nodded.

“Drop a line any time. Just to chat, or if you have a Calculus problem—or any demon languages, Wesley’ll look them up for you.”

Buffy looked at Wesley. “Is my new Watcher not smart?”

“What? Oh, of course he is. But everyone has their strengths. Mr. Giles indeed is quite learned, and has more practical, hands-on field knowledge than I ever will. But the books were my specialty. At the Academy I was head boy, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Here,” he said, pulling out a small box.

“No more presents,” Buffy said, holding up her hands. “You already gave me a dozen stakes, a short sword, and my very own crossbow. A girl doesn’t forget her first crossbow.”

“One more thing, I insist.” He opened the box to reveal a necklace with a plain silver cross on it.

“Wow. That looks really old. It isn’t like a family heirloom or something?”

“Nah,” Fred said, “I’ve got the family heirloom.”

“I always intended to give this to my Slayer, if I had one. I would be honored if you would take it.”

“Faith…?”

“Threw it back at me.”

Buffy took the chain and fastened it around her neck. “Thank you. For everything.”

-----

“Is this the last of it?” Cordelia asked.

“Yep.” Buffy stacked the boxes by the front door.

“It looks so empty.”

“Yeah,” she agreed wistfully, looking around.

“So you’re not taking those?”

“Mom’s already got all the furniture she wanted. And Dad cleared his stuff out of the office the other day. The bigger things she’s selling with the house. Ugh, this whole moving thing is such a drag. We’re taking the U-haul tomorrow; Mom’s got some guys to unload everything up there. Then we’re coming back, loading up our cars with all the ‘little stuff,’” she gestured to the row of boxes, “and clearing out.”

“When do you have to be out by?”

“Oh, I don’t know. All that paperwork takes a while. But we want to be settled and unpacked and everything by Christmas. You could come visit sometime,” she added. “And I’m sure I’ll be back in L.A. for the shopping alone.”

Cordelia smiled. “It’s a date. Anytime. And hey, if you ever wanna stay on a while, Daddy’s got the summerhouse.” Then she blanched. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’re not rich anymore, I can deal. But we’re not poor,” she quickly added. “Mom got a mortgage on the house in Sunnydale, but as soon as this place is closed on—I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“Just a bit. C’mon, one last shopping spree down the strip. My treat.”

Buffy grinned. “You’re on.”

-----

Later that evening, Wesley was detailing a report to send to Mr. Giles. He wasn’t required to, but he felt it a courtesy to do so. Giles had always been decent to him, and there was no reason not to share what information on Buffy that he had. He was making notes on her fighting technique and playing through the recorded feed from their sessions. Fred had even taped some of Buffy’s fights on patrol.

Fast-forwarding to get to the next training sequence, he realized that the camera had accidentally been left to run. He was about to stop it when a second figure in the shot caught his eye.

His eyes grew wide when he saw Spike suddenly drop Buffy and pin her, leaning in toward her neck. However, after a moment he stood up. Only to repeat the process a second later. He kept her down until she pushed him off herself, and then they began circling each other. After a few rounds, Spike pinned her again.

Then he left.

Wesley fast-forwarded again, but encountered nothing else.

Spike had had her down three times and done nothing. Wesley frowned. In some way that he’d have to be insane to even consider, it had almost, almost looked like Spike was sparring with her. Wesley wished he’d had the microphone on.

He hadn’t seen any sign of Spike since that night, the night that Spike had nearly choked him to death. When he’d prompted Buffy, she’d said that she hadn’t seen him. He didn’t seem to be following her, at least.

Nonetheless, it was a good thing that Buffy was removed from Spike and he from her.