Soul Survivors
Chapter Twelve: Out for a Stroll


The cloudy sky was still a dark grey when they left the Park Plaza lobby and started down the street together. Her inner warning bells were going off at being out before the sun was completely set, but she didn’t feel like she was going to combust. Buffy wore her long black leather coat over a pair of black slacks and a thin red sweater. Her stylish, low-heeled boots clicked over the wet pavement as she walked beside Spike with an arm around his leather-covered waist.

Spike moved with sure steps, his arm casually thrown over her shoulder, their hips bumping every now and then. He wore a red, silk shirt over his usual black t-shirt and looked exactly as he had the night she first saw him in that alley years ago. She smiled and pulled him closer to her. Looking down at her red sweater, she realized how very similarly they were dressed. They were one of those couples, dressing alike.

Her smile widened. It was her first time abroad, she was doing the tourist thing, and she could share it all with the love of her life. Best of all, he was a London native and knew his way around.

She loved the feel of the city with its old buildings and statues. The few boats going slowly up the Thames lent a relaxed feeling to the hustle and bustle on the street. Lights from the buildings reflected off the damp roads. It had rained while they were keeping busy in the hotel room, but there wasn’t even so much as a mist now.

“So, love, what do you want to do first?” Spike asked when they stopped at a corner.

Buffy watched a red double-decker bus pass and then pointed at the huge wheel ride, across the river. “Let’s do that.”

His lip went up on one side as he crinkled his nose in distaste. “You want to ride the London Eye?”

“Sure. I think it would be fun. We can see the city in lights from above.” She stared at him, trying to figure out what his problem was. “It’s called the London Eye?”

“That’s what some call it. Eye sore is more like it.”

“Have you been on it before?”

“No. It was just built a couple of years ago. I haven’t been back here in decades.”

“Then let’s do it,” she told him cheerfully.

He leaned over and kissed her before steering them in the direction of the big wheel.

Spike complained about exorbitant admission prices, declaring it highway robbery even as he handed over the cash. They entered one of the large clear glass cars with two other couples and began the slow climb.

Darkness had fallen over the city before they reached the top and the view was spectacular. The bright lights of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament stood out in the distance. The river sparkled with lights from the boats and reflections from the buildings on its banks. Spike pointed out places of interest, and the other couples inched their way closer as he told her little tidbits about some of the buildings and things he had experienced. Once he knew he had an audience, he really poured on the charm and had the them all laughing.

When the ride ended, the couple from Kansas shook his hand, thanking him for the tour. The vampires waved at the couple as they walked off in another direction.

Spike kicked at the rubbish littering the ground near the Eye before quickly moving them away from the area.

“You charmed the socks off of that farmer and his wife,” Buffy told him when they stopped at another corner. “Who knew you could be so charming and nice to humans?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, they were having a good time. It’s taking me a while, but I’m getting used to the idea that humans aren’t just food.”

They took the Underground to Piccadilly Circus, where they paused so that Buffy could take it all in. There were cars zooming by and the big New York type billboard practically blinded her with its flashing lights. People went past them with purpose. Many of them had backpacks or were loaded down with shopping bags.

Later, they did some window-shopping before finding a nice dark spot by the River to sit and relax.

“What do you think of London, then?” he asked her as she looked out over the water.

“It’s marvelous.” She sighed, gazing around her. “I love how old everything feels, even with all the modern stuff.”

“I wish you could have seen it in my day without the glass and steel buildings littering the city up. I miss the carriages and gaslights. This place smelled different and sounded different.” He paused and then grinning he said, “Well, maybe I don’t miss the smells.”

“Well, thank you for taking me on a small tour.” She slid closer to him, putting her hand on the back of his to neck to bring him in for a long, leisurely kiss. When they parted, she said, “I don’t know if we’ll have time to do much more of this after we get put in the mix with the watchers.”

Standing up, Spike held out his hand for her. “We’re not done yet. The night is still young.”

He held her hand as they quickly made their way back to the Underground.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I have an errand to run in the Financial District and then we can explore the area. I thought maybe you’d like to see the Tower of London and Tower Bridge.”

“You have to run an errand?” If he hadn’t been to the city for forty years, what could he possible have to do?

“It won’t take us long.”

The Financial District was nothing like Piccadilly or the other sections they’d been to. It was eerily quiet and deserted. Once he took them to the back streets and alleys, she could almost image that they were back in time. They wound through narrow passageways and dark roads. A few times, Buffy thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head, there was nothing. They passed a couple of homeless people huddled up against the door of a building in a dirty yellow sleeping bag.

“Stupid buggers. They’re just asking for it,” Spike leaned in and whispered.

“Why?”

“This is our part of town at night.”

They were just coming out of a small passageway that ended in a big open space. Spike stopped and said, “Mitre Square. One of Jack the Ripper’s victims was found right here.”

She gazed at the spot. “Did you know him?”

Spike shook his head. “Was newly turned and the demon population had no better idea who he was than the humans. Some say he was a demon hunter gone mad.”

When they crossed the square, he pulled her into another tiny passage. The sign on the wall read: Mitre Passage EC3. As she walked behind Spike, she wondered why they would post the names of alleys and such. He was walking faster now and she didn’t have time to ask him.

They moved through a few more twists and turns; every now and then, she could get a glimpse of the brightly lit buildings far off, but the section was clothed in dim light and dark shadows. The smell of damp stone and pavement mixed with the low-lying fog that was settling in gave the area a creepy feel.

They ended up on a bigger street, yet it was deserted. He stopped when they came to a narrow alley. “Sugar Baker’s Court,” he explained, pointing to the black and white plate on the wall.

She looked down the alley, seeing nothing different from the others they’d been in and passed along the way.

“If all goes well, we’ll be back down this way before heading to the hotel.”

He started off again and she took a couple of quick steps to catch up. They went by a modern looking building before slipping into a sinister looking tight passage. He stopped them again when they came to another plate on the wall. It read: French Ordinary Court EC3.

“Not long now.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed.

The passage curved slightly and came out to a small street where he stopped to look around. “Bugger.”

“What?”

“The only entrance I know of is blocked off.” Across the way, a large hole like opening was covered with a big black and white plastic board. His head jerked to the left. “You, there!” he called out to the empty street.

A figure dressed in black stepped out of the shadows. As they got closer to him, her senses told her he was a vampire, like them, but she moved slightly behind Spike.

“Out for a stroll with your lady, are you?” the creepy vampire asked.

The vamp had a thick Welsh accent and it took her a minute to translate what he said into her version of English. His face was in the shadows; she could barely make out his white pocked face and sunken eyes.

“You might say that. I have some business to conduct downstairs,” Spike told him in a firm voice. “I haven’t been in town for years. Where’s the new entrance?”

“This way.” He shoved the door he was standing by open and moved to let them pass. “She’s a pretty one, that.” The gross creature flashed a toothless grin and she turned her face away from him, thinking he was one guy who’d definitely look better in game face.

“Thanks, mate.” Spike nudged Buffy forward, pushing her into a small dark hallway.

When the door closed behind them, she stopped and turned back. “Where are you taking me?”

He gently pushed her up against the wall, pressing her to it with his body. “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

Buffy could feel his breath on her cheek and sighed with pleasure as his hand found its way up the inside of her sweater to cup a breast. He pressed his arousal against her leg, causing her stomach to clench with desire.

“What are you doing? I thought you had an errand to run?”

“I do. We’ll get to it; but first, it’s been way too long since I last kissed you. I plan to do it right proper, here and now.”

Spike leaned forward and placed feather light kisses up her neck. He stopped to nibble on her earlobe before kissing her along the jaw line and up to her mouth. Buffy grabbed his chin, kissing him. He tasted so good; she was grateful that she didn’t have to come up for air. Her hands found their way into his hair and she yanked on the short locks desperately wanting more of him.

He moved away, leaving her with lowered eye lids and swollen lips. After he licked his own lips, he said, “There now. That’s better.”

“Better?” she practically shouted as she slapped his shoulder. “Now I’m all frustrated.”

“Patience, love. I’ll take care of that as soon as we get back to the hotel. That’s a promise.” He tugged on his coat and adjusted his pants. “Now, as to the question of where we are. You are standing in the hallway of the London offices of Wolfram and Hart.”

Her eyes darted around, taking in the dark hall in alarm. “What? There’s an office in London?”

Spike nodded. “And in Rome, LA, Chicago, and even Paris. Their buildings are huge and out in the open. Not in London. Here they cower under the surface like the weasels they are.”

“How can you have business with them? They helped to make a contract to end my life.”

He shrugged. “That was just one lawyer in LA. And remember, I was evil for over a hundred years. I have some things safely stored here that I need. Come on.”

He took her hand and led her down the hall. He stopped at every door on the right to put a hand on them. After a few tries, he found the right one and they made their way down a narrow flight of stairs that ended with another set of closed doors. He knocked loudly at one of them.

The door creaked open and a man in a tuxedo looked down his nose at them. “Yes?”

“William the Bloody to see Maston Drake.”

“Very good, sir.”

The man opened the door wider and they stepped into a huge reception room. The room was filled with antique furniture. To the left a very large oak desk was in front of a wall filled with three elevators.

“How may I help you?” the pretty receptionist at the desk asked.

Buffy noted that she had a heartbeat. The woman glanced up at Spike, obviously liking what she saw.

“I’m a client of Maston Drake. I need access to my box,” Spike said.

“Elevator two. Third floor down,” the receptionist sing-songed.

He nodded his thanks and ushered Buffy to the elevator. “We won’t be here long; I promise.”

Spike pushed the number three button and then they were going down. The elevator opened to a large but narrow room much like a bank. Buffy waited while Spike went to one of the windows and signed some papers.

Soon they were ushered into a room off the main one. The walls and floors were white with no adornments - a mahogany table and two matching chairs, the only furniture. They waited a few minutes before a man dressed in a tuxedo, wearing white gloves came in with a long rectangular strong box.

“Just call when you are through.” The man pointed to the red button by the door before leaving.

Spike pushed a combination of numbers on the side making the box spring open. He moved some things around and glanced up at her. “Can you give me just a moment?”

She stood and turned around, keeping her eyes focused on the door. Curious as she was, it took all her strength not to turn back.

Something metal clinked against the box.

“Okay.”

She turned quickly and was happily surprised to see the box still open.

“You’re welcome to have a look. They’re just things that I thought to save over the years.”

“I can’t believe you’ve kept this stuff here all this time.” She smiled at him as she reached into the box. “Glasses?” she asked him, putting the old-fashioned frames on her face.

“They look better on you, pet.” He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t need them anymore, once I was turned, but, I just couldn’t part with them.”

“I like them. Put them on.”

He took them from her and frowned at them before doing as she asked. She tilted her head and touched her face. “You look smart and sexy.”

Spike chuckled and placed them on the table. She reached in the box again and pulled out a thick stack of loose papers. She sat down and looked through them. The rough yellowed paper was obviously very old.

“Did you write all of this?”

He gave her a wary look and nodded.

There were pages and pages of poems. Some only a few lines long; others filled whole pages. She really wanted to sit there and read them all, but Buffy knew they didn’t have time for that. She placed them to the side and reached into the box again.

It was like treasure hunting and she felt honored that he trusted her enough to let her go through his personal stuff. Buffy pulled out a ring of heavy keys and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Those are probably useless now. They were for my home here in London.”

“Will you take me to see it sometime before we have to go back to California?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

Next out of the box was a heavy black velvet pouch. She reached in the bag and pulled out a handful of coins. “I bet these are worth a lot today.”

“Probably, and they’ll keep until we have an emergency.”

She reached in again, pulling out another velvet pouch. Only this one was larger and just as heavy. She opened the pouch, taking out a necklace. It was twisted and she worked it until it straightened out. Buffy glanced at Spike, who was watching her reaction with interest.

She dumped the other bits of jewelry out onto the table. There were rings, more necklaces, bracelets, earrings and even hair pins with gems on the ends.

“The family jewels,” he said simply when she glanced up at him again. “My mother was the last to wear them. When she died, a few days after my turning, I gathered them up and carried them with me for quite some time.”

Tears formed in her eyes as she stared at the beautiful pieces in front of her. “Did you kill her? I know that happens a lot,” she said softly.

“I tried to turn her. She was dying and I wanted her to live with me forever. I loved her that much. But something went wrong. It’s not a good idea to turn someone until you are much older.”

She rubbed her finger over a smooth amber stone. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t like to talk about it, but she’s gone. The same night she rose, I had to stake her.” Spike ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “With us both dead, there was no one to pass those jewels on to, so I took them with me. I let Drusilla and Darla have a few of the pieces and we sold some of them to keep us going. When we made plans to leave England, I hired out this box and they’ve been here ever since.”

With the pouch wide open, she started to put the pieces back in, one by one. “I wish I could have met her.”

“She would have loved you. Your mum reminded me of her.” Spike’s large hand covered hers. “I think she would be very please to know that someone I loved was wearing them.”

The moment stretched on as she tried to form words. “I…I have no need for this much jewelry. I couldn’t possibly-”

“Pick one thing that takes your fancy and make this old vampire happy.”

Buffy wiped at her eye and spread the jewels out. “This one.” She held up a pendant on a thin gold chain and untangled it from a ring. The square cut emerald was dainty, but looked regal surround by small, white diamonds.

He smiled through unshed tears of his own. “I knew you’d pick an emerald. They suit you.”

“Help me put it on?”

He fumbled with his chair as he quickly got up to do her bidding. Buffy lifted the hair off her neck and shivered when Spike’s fingers brushed his marks.