Welcome to the Hellmouth
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,313
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,313
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Revelations
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! It really keeps me going when I feel like pulling my hair out.
Revelations
Spike and Buffy found Joyce safe and sound, and to the slayer’s surprise, his mother to an immediate liking to Buffy. Rather than asking awkward questions, she had simply invited her inside. Buffy, however, had refused to cross the threshold until Spike had repeated the invitation.
Five minutes later found the three of them in the kitchen, Joyce’s eyes distant and sorrowful as she glanced between her son and the unusual woman with vibrant green eyes. Buffy was not a human, Joyce knew that much. “You’ve been with Buffy all this time?” she asked worriedly.
“No, Mum,” Spike answered, his trademark cockiness replaced by a respectful demeanor that was entirely foreign to Buffy. She had never seen him so soft-spoken.
“Where were you?”
“I can leave if I’m making things uncomfortable for you,” Buffy said, rising from her chair. A golden brow arched in surprise when Spike’s hand on her arm halted her leave-taking.
“Stay. I was… I was at Drusilla’s. Mum, there are some things I need to talk to you about. I’m… a vampire slayer.”
“I knew it… I’ve been washing blood out of your clothes for months now. Drusilla? She’s... she’s the one who saved your birth mother, isn’t she?” Joyce didn’t bother asking if William knew he had been adopted; she’d recognized Gloria’s coat the instant he had started wearing it, and her son had mentioned that Rupert Giles was the librarian. Yes, she had known he had been called, but hearing it from his lips was an entirely different matter.
“She did save his mother, but she’s very dangerous now, Joyce,” Buffy interrupted. “Listen to me, you cannot be alone after dark. With Drusilla off the soul wagon, you’re in danger.”
“William is in more danger than I am!” the woman protested.
“Mum… that’s now how she works. She’ll kill you and my friends before she’ll come after me. She likes to make people suffer. If… if it’s okay with you, I think Buffy should stay here with us in case Dru decides to make a move, and I don’t want you leaving the house after sundown.”
“I’m a grown woman, William, I think I can take care of myself. I’m more worried about you and what she might do if –”
“You’re not listening!” Spike yelled. “If you won’t listen to me, listen to Buffy! She can tell you better than anyone because she’s lived it!”
Turning to face the blonde vampire, Joyce queried, “Buffy? Is that true?”
“I’m afraid so, Joyce,” said Buffy apologetically. “When… when she tried to break me, she killed my entire family and my watcher. She killed my friends, even the man who tried to court me. I rejected him, and she still killed him. She loves emotional torture almost as much as physical, and that means that you aren’t safe. I think Spike is right. I should stay here until this is resolved.”
“Spike?”
“Killed a demon with a railroad spike,” the slayer answered.
“Ah, I see.” Massaging her temples, Joyce finished her drink and moved to the stove to make hot chocolate. It was one of those nights where nothing short of mass quantities of sugar, chocolate, and alcohol would help her sleep. “All right, Buffy. You can stay in the basement, there are no windows down there.”
“I was a slayer. I’m immune to sunlight.”
“What?!” Joyce and Spike demanded simultaneously.
“It’s a little known secret,” the former slayer confessed. “Not even Angelus and Drusilla know. Only Wesley does. I don’t know how or why, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone.”
“Um, Buffy… Is it safe for Wesley to be hanging around with Angelus now that Dru… you know?”
“Do I look insane to you? Wait, don’t answer that. I told Wesley to stay with Giles; he’s probably with him now.”
“Speaking of Giles, you’d better call your father, William, and I mean this instant. The poor man is probably worried sick by now. I wonder if he’s scrubbed a hole in his glasses,” she mused aloud.
Chuckling, Spike pushed to his feet and disappeared into the living room to make the call. He could picture his father now, rubbing the lenses of his glasses furiously as he spoke to Wesley – the latter he could picture as clearly as though he had already met him. He saw dark hair, intelligent eyes, and a wardrobe James Bond would envy. He shook his head furiously to clear his mind of the vision, one of the few side effects of being a slayer he had not yet become accustomed to.
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“Why are you so intent on helping William?” Joyce inquired as she passed Buffy a mug of hot chocolate.
Shrugging, the blonde lifted the mug in salute and took a small sip to test the flavor. She mewled in delight at the burst of warmth and chocolatey goodness. “Oh, my God… this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted… And to answer your question, I was a slayer. I know what it’s like to feel isolated from everyone else, to have a sacred duty no one is supposed to know about.”
“And you can’t lose your soul? How… how did Drusilla lose hers? How did she even have one to lose? She wasn’t a slayer, was she?”
Snorting in disdain at the thought of the murderous bitch ever holding the title of slayer, Buffy shook her head vehemently. “She killed the leader of a Gypsy tribe’s son. They cursed her with a soul so she would feel remorse for all she’d done, but they put a clause in the curse. If she ever knew a moment of perfect happiness, she would lose her soul.”
“And… oh, my.” If there was one thing that could be said for Joyce Summers, it was that she was not a stupid woman. She knew what could make a woman feel perfectly happy, and she didn’t like it a single bit.
“Bingo.”
“Oh, my,” she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess he really has grown up.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to Spike, to you, or to his friends,” the vampire declared.
For some reason, perhaps the fierceness with which Buffy uttered the vow, Joyce believed her, and she inclined her head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something about you makes me trust you.”
“Don’t,” Buffy stated firmly. “Don’t trust anyone in this town except Spike, Giles, his friends, and Wesley. You can trust Wesley because his first loyalty is to the slayer, not to me.”
“Who is this mysterious Wesley and how do you know him?”
Staring into her empty mug, Buffy whimpered softly at the loss of the chocolate delight, and then she beamed when Joyce refilled it. “Thank you. Sit down, and I’ll tell you about Wesley.”
Revelations
Spike and Buffy found Joyce safe and sound, and to the slayer’s surprise, his mother to an immediate liking to Buffy. Rather than asking awkward questions, she had simply invited her inside. Buffy, however, had refused to cross the threshold until Spike had repeated the invitation.
Five minutes later found the three of them in the kitchen, Joyce’s eyes distant and sorrowful as she glanced between her son and the unusual woman with vibrant green eyes. Buffy was not a human, Joyce knew that much. “You’ve been with Buffy all this time?” she asked worriedly.
“No, Mum,” Spike answered, his trademark cockiness replaced by a respectful demeanor that was entirely foreign to Buffy. She had never seen him so soft-spoken.
“Where were you?”
“I can leave if I’m making things uncomfortable for you,” Buffy said, rising from her chair. A golden brow arched in surprise when Spike’s hand on her arm halted her leave-taking.
“Stay. I was… I was at Drusilla’s. Mum, there are some things I need to talk to you about. I’m… a vampire slayer.”
“I knew it… I’ve been washing blood out of your clothes for months now. Drusilla? She’s... she’s the one who saved your birth mother, isn’t she?” Joyce didn’t bother asking if William knew he had been adopted; she’d recognized Gloria’s coat the instant he had started wearing it, and her son had mentioned that Rupert Giles was the librarian. Yes, she had known he had been called, but hearing it from his lips was an entirely different matter.
“She did save his mother, but she’s very dangerous now, Joyce,” Buffy interrupted. “Listen to me, you cannot be alone after dark. With Drusilla off the soul wagon, you’re in danger.”
“William is in more danger than I am!” the woman protested.
“Mum… that’s now how she works. She’ll kill you and my friends before she’ll come after me. She likes to make people suffer. If… if it’s okay with you, I think Buffy should stay here with us in case Dru decides to make a move, and I don’t want you leaving the house after sundown.”
“I’m a grown woman, William, I think I can take care of myself. I’m more worried about you and what she might do if –”
“You’re not listening!” Spike yelled. “If you won’t listen to me, listen to Buffy! She can tell you better than anyone because she’s lived it!”
Turning to face the blonde vampire, Joyce queried, “Buffy? Is that true?”
“I’m afraid so, Joyce,” said Buffy apologetically. “When… when she tried to break me, she killed my entire family and my watcher. She killed my friends, even the man who tried to court me. I rejected him, and she still killed him. She loves emotional torture almost as much as physical, and that means that you aren’t safe. I think Spike is right. I should stay here until this is resolved.”
“Spike?”
“Killed a demon with a railroad spike,” the slayer answered.
“Ah, I see.” Massaging her temples, Joyce finished her drink and moved to the stove to make hot chocolate. It was one of those nights where nothing short of mass quantities of sugar, chocolate, and alcohol would help her sleep. “All right, Buffy. You can stay in the basement, there are no windows down there.”
“I was a slayer. I’m immune to sunlight.”
“What?!” Joyce and Spike demanded simultaneously.
“It’s a little known secret,” the former slayer confessed. “Not even Angelus and Drusilla know. Only Wesley does. I don’t know how or why, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone.”
“Um, Buffy… Is it safe for Wesley to be hanging around with Angelus now that Dru… you know?”
“Do I look insane to you? Wait, don’t answer that. I told Wesley to stay with Giles; he’s probably with him now.”
“Speaking of Giles, you’d better call your father, William, and I mean this instant. The poor man is probably worried sick by now. I wonder if he’s scrubbed a hole in his glasses,” she mused aloud.
Chuckling, Spike pushed to his feet and disappeared into the living room to make the call. He could picture his father now, rubbing the lenses of his glasses furiously as he spoke to Wesley – the latter he could picture as clearly as though he had already met him. He saw dark hair, intelligent eyes, and a wardrobe James Bond would envy. He shook his head furiously to clear his mind of the vision, one of the few side effects of being a slayer he had not yet become accustomed to.
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“Why are you so intent on helping William?” Joyce inquired as she passed Buffy a mug of hot chocolate.
Shrugging, the blonde lifted the mug in salute and took a small sip to test the flavor. She mewled in delight at the burst of warmth and chocolatey goodness. “Oh, my God… this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted… And to answer your question, I was a slayer. I know what it’s like to feel isolated from everyone else, to have a sacred duty no one is supposed to know about.”
“And you can’t lose your soul? How… how did Drusilla lose hers? How did she even have one to lose? She wasn’t a slayer, was she?”
Snorting in disdain at the thought of the murderous bitch ever holding the title of slayer, Buffy shook her head vehemently. “She killed the leader of a Gypsy tribe’s son. They cursed her with a soul so she would feel remorse for all she’d done, but they put a clause in the curse. If she ever knew a moment of perfect happiness, she would lose her soul.”
“And… oh, my.” If there was one thing that could be said for Joyce Summers, it was that she was not a stupid woman. She knew what could make a woman feel perfectly happy, and she didn’t like it a single bit.
“Bingo.”
“Oh, my,” she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess he really has grown up.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to Spike, to you, or to his friends,” the vampire declared.
For some reason, perhaps the fierceness with which Buffy uttered the vow, Joyce believed her, and she inclined her head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something about you makes me trust you.”
“Don’t,” Buffy stated firmly. “Don’t trust anyone in this town except Spike, Giles, his friends, and Wesley. You can trust Wesley because his first loyalty is to the slayer, not to me.”
“Who is this mysterious Wesley and how do you know him?”
Staring into her empty mug, Buffy whimpered softly at the loss of the chocolate delight, and then she beamed when Joyce refilled it. “Thank you. Sit down, and I’ll tell you about Wesley.”