New beginnings

Chapter 11


As he dodged the first gaping mouth and set of talons Spike swept the sword upwards, scraping ineffectively across a huge scaled foreleg. He had three seconds to recover before the second dragon swept down upon him. He unconsciously vamped out in the sheer exhilaration of facing real, honest to goodness dragons in battle.


He swung the sword a second time. At the crucial moment he was distracted when Dawn squeaked, “Don’t dragons breathe fire?” The emerald sword met thin air and he felt his shoulder and neck sting as talons ripped through his flesh.


Before the huge creatures turned back to attack Spike had a moment to contemplate her question. Did these dragons breathe fire? If they did, as a highly combustible vampire he was in even more danger than he had thought, which meant that Dawn was in even greater danger than she had been in the caves with the demons.


All because he hadn’t been paying attention.


He steadied himself and took a quick glance over his shoulder and tried to decide. Should he stand and fight or make a run for the forest?


Then the first dark shape was swooping down at him again. This time he didn’t try to aim his sword, he acted on instinct and the blade made contact with something hard. Very hard. Something so hard that it jarred his arms and shoulders right through to his spine and made his fangs rattle in his jaw.


His head felt as if it was going to explode. The dragon had let out such a high pitched scream that his sensitive ears couldn’t cope and shut down for a few seconds, leaving him to face the second dragon in a dazed silence.


Again he lashed out reflexively, and again his weapon met with resistance. This time the agonised scream was accompanied by a splatter of foul smelling ichor and he swept a hand down over his face to clear the stinging goop out of his eyes.


He shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears and looked up to find both dragons flapping to gain height and gather themselves for the second round.


Spike made a lightning fast decision. While the fame he could reap by becoming known as ‘The vampire who killed a dragon’ would satisfy his lust for glory and provide free drinks for years to come, his first priority remained to get his human charge to safety. He turned to urge her to her feet and take the opportunity to run, only to find her gone.


He whipped around searching for her, dreading to see her in the grips of those awesome draconic talons, only to locate her scuttling back to him from a few yards away, clutching something tight to her chest.


Angry at being disobeyed he grabbed her arm and began to hustle her towards the forest but it soon became clear that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. Grunting her name urgently he turned his back to the girl and bent at the knees slightly, waving in invitation for her to mount his back.


With Dawn’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her strong young legs gripping his hips Spike broke into a run. He saw a vast shadow sweeping across the grass towards him and put on a spurt of vampiric speed that made Dawn squeal in excited fear even as it took them out of danger. He headed straight for the treeline, hurdling or running straight through the meandering stream when it cut across their path rather than taking the time to curve around its course.


Rejoining the stream as it emerged from the trees, Spike splashed along it until they were completely hidden from the air by the thick forest canopy. Slowing to a walk, he continued until he found the first clear space on the bank and climbed wearily up onto the grass before releasing Dawn from his grasp.


They rested for a few minutes until Spike was able to subdue his demon and shake off his game face. He immediately shucked off the heavy chain and began to berate Dawn for leaving his side while they were under attack, but his voice trailed off when she held up the object she had retrieved. It was one of the dragon’s talons. It was about eight inches long from its three inch thick severed base to the smoothly worn razor sharp tip, and it was made of solid gold.


Spike murmured in wonder, “Now we know where they got all their gold from… thought they were a bit too primitive to be excavating mines.” He regretted even more the fact that he had been unable to claim a dragon’s life. If he had been able to retrieve all the gold talons from the creature he would have become a very rich vampire indeed and Buffy wouldn’t have needed to remain obligated to those gits at the Council of Watchers. He had been having second thoughts since coming up with that bright idea. Now they were paying the Slayer it was possible they would try to take advantage of the situation by claiming the right to interfere in her life again.


He tucked the talon into the backpack before removing his soggy boots and opening them out to dry. He would have taken his jeans off to dry too had Dawn not been sitting right there next to him. He slipped out of his duster and examined the new rips in the shoulder and collar, mournfully reflecting that his precious leather had suffered more damage since taking up with the Slayer than in all the previous twenty years. He unbuckled the baldric and laid it on the grass then rinsed the sword off in the stream.


When just to get some peace he finally submitted to Dawn’s insistence on helping him clean out the ichor smeared gouges the dragon had dug in his neck and shoulder the wounds were already closing, and the stinging pain of a new wound had faded to a familiar healing itch.


They settled in to wait for the others to find them. Dawn curled up on his duster in the shade of the trees and quickly dozed off while Spike briefly returned to the edge of the forest to check for any sign of the dragons. Finding the sky clear he returned to sit beside the sleeping teenager to keep watch.


He could feel his Slayer coming closer, but she was travelling very much more slowly that he had, so he knew he would be waiting for some time. He leant against a tree and rested the sword across his lap, keeping a firm hold on the emerald studded hilt. He was determined not to let go of its power and rest until Buffy arrived to take over sentry duty.

******

Spike struggled to stay asleep.


First Dawn had woken up from her nap and whined endlessly that she was hungry so he had had to go hunting again. He soon found it was very awkward to move stealthily through the thick forest while carrying his sword. Everything was four times as difficult when you could only use one hand!


After he’d fed (out of sight of the squeamish teenager) he’d belatedly remembered to make sure he’d provided enough fresh meat to satisfy the other three humans when they arrived as well as his ravenous charge. Then there had come the necessary one handed butchery and the building of a small cooking fire. While steadfastly refusing to handle the raw meat Dawn had agreed to gather firewood and prepare the green sticks for cooking her meal.


Then he had been forced to relate sufficient entertaining PG rated tales of his travels with Dru to keep the bored teenager occupied, which dug up sad memories of the previous summer when almost every evening had been filled with similar distractions.


Then she had insisted he give a running commentary of her sister’s feelings as they reached him through the Bond. That didn’t occupy much time though, since almost as soon as he’d started he sensed Buffy reluctantly stopping to rest and for several hours she’d drifted in the land of nod.


At nightfall Dawn had settled down to sleep again and Spike had been left to keep watch for the hunter demons and anything else that might prove a danger.


Within minutes he had been bored out of his skull.


He had tried to complete his workout routine, only to abandon it after a few sit-ups. They just didn’t work when you had a bloody great sword stuck in your mitt.


For a while he had tried to pass the time by mentally reciting every poem he had ever memorised, but so many of them had unfortunate Drusilla related memories attached he soon gave that up as a bad job too.


When during the early afternoon of the next day Buffy and the Scoobies had at last come wading along the stream and swarmed around the campsite, he had been extremely relieved. He had gone straight to his Slayer and examined her minutely for injuries. They struggled for control briefly when she noticed his slashed shirt and attempted to check his wounds at the same time. It wasn’t until after he had carefully felt around her perforated midriff and satisfied himself that it was fully healed that Spike remembered that he was angry with her and gruffly announced that now she’d arrived safely he needed to sleep.


He had reclaimed his duster from where Dawn had been sitting, rolled himself into a neat leather sausage and sheathed his sword. He finally released his grip upon the jewelled hilt and as its mystical power drained out of him he passed straight into a deep sleep.


And now his Slayer was trying her best to make him wake up and he was trying his best… not to.


Without being aware of the transition from horizontal to vertical Spike slowly became aware that he was stumbling along, being dragged by the hand. Buffy was grumbling impatiently, “Come on Spike. Those demons are still searching for us and now the sun’s going down they’ll be on the move again and we’ve got to get out of here!” Spike jerked at least half awake when his bare feet met cold water. He pried his eyes open and discovered that he was being led upstream and the sunset was staining the sky orange and yellow.


Bewildered, he mumbled, “Buffy? What…?”


She turned back to him and he heard the relief in her voice. “Oh there you are! Thank God! Spike… you need to feed from me so we can go home. Those demons are gonna be closing in soon and Dawnie’s getting ready to make a portal. All we need is for you to wake up and get with the programme!”


Still befuddled from his post-sword collapse and insufficient sleep to recover, Spike allowed himself to be pulled up the bank of the stream onto a patch of sweet smelling grass. He stopped when she let go of his hand and tried to wake up.


He blinked, and when he opened his eyes next he discovered that he was lying on the grass and she was beside him holding him close and pressing his face into her neck. Now she was urging him, “Oh come on Spike… I know you want to bite me! Slayer on tap here… wake up and drink your fill now, there’s a good vampire.”


He tried to vamp out, he really did. He nuzzled his mark, licked it and nibbled it, but his demon refused to rouse and his face refused to change. He sighed and wearily muttered, “Too sleepy.” He had an idea so he pulled her over on top of him, wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back, petulantly wheedling, “Wanna feel your pretty little fangs, Slayer. If you bite me my lazy demon’ll wake up and return the favour.”


She drew away from him slightly and said, “Oh yeah, about the fanginess…” She took a deep breath and looked down at him, “When I found out about… I mean… it’s just… It was a shock, you know? I guess I kinda wigged… and…” She took another deep breath and gabbled, “andImayhaveoverreactedaboutthefangsjustalittlebit.”


Amused by his Mate’s reluctance to utter a true apology, Spike decided to push her and raised an eyebrow, asking, “Ya think?”


She batted him on the chest and protested, “It was just for a moment, you know? Then I realised you hadn’t done anything wrong and it was just the physical manifestation of my Slayerness in this dimension, like you said.”


Spike sniggered at her description and murmured, “Physical manifestation? Ooh big words!”


She muttered defensively, “What? I know words! I was all CollegeGirlBuffy for a year!” Then she gave a little resigned sigh. “I’m sorry. Guess I am just a little bit demony after all…”


Spike cupped her cheek and gently asked, “Well… where did you think your powers came from, my sweet Slayer?”


She shrugged and wistfully whispered, “Never really thought about it until now. We’ll talk to Giles about it when we get back home okay?” She nodded in fresh determination and prodded him in the chest with one forefinger, “But to do that we’ve actually got to get there which means you have to feed from me! So… tell me how to go fangy… I have no clue how I did it!”


He told her, “Well… the first time was while we were shagging. Didn’t occur to me ‘til afterwards but you had fangs in my neck towards the end there.” He smirked at her astonished expression. “Then they appeared while you were fighting the demons.” He shrugged, “So I reckon we either gotta start shagging or start fighting!” He cocked his head to one side and considered for a second, “Reckon it’d be quicker if we started fighting, ‘cos we were shagging at least a couple of hours before they sprouted.”


“You can hardly stand, Spike. How do you think you’re gonna fight me?”


That hadn’t occurred to him. He frowned briefly and sucked his teeth thoughtfully and then suggested, “How ‘bout this? I could try to talk you through the way I vamp out…? It should be a similar sort of process for you….”


“Okay… we could try that.” Buffy pushed herself up until she was sitting on the grass beside him and looked attentive. “So how do I start?”


Spike chuckled nervously, “Yeah, well… I haven’t really had to think about how I change for years… it just happens when I need it to… you know? Let me think a minute…” He cast his mind back to when he had first been turned and Drusilla had taught him how to adopt his human face after he had risen in game face, and then how she had encouraged him to vamp out for their first hunt. She had talked him through the same transformation several times before he’d got the hang of it and could keep track of which face he was wearing. She’d been so proud of how quickly he’d learned.


He concentrated hard, trying to tap into his demon and summon him up… and then tried to figure out exactly what he was doing so he could describe it… and then he started drifting… and then he was rudely disturbed by a sharp pain. He opened his eyes and glared up at his Slayer, cupping his sore face. “Oy! Bloody hell, Buffy! What was that for?”


She glared right back at him. “This will work a lot quicker if you stay awake!”


Rubbing his bruised nose, Spike muttered sulkily, “Was awake.”


A neatly trimmed eyebrow shot up in disbelief. “Do you usually snore when you’re awake?”


“I. Do. Not. Snore!”


“Could’a fooled me!” Buffy sighed. “Oh come on, Spike. Those demons aren’t gonna wait forever for us to figure this out. Get with the vamping!”


Spike clenched his jaw and fumed for a second, then took a deep calming breath and tried again. Unfortunately his inner demon was still so dopey he couldn’t quite get a fix on it. He found himself drifting again… and then he was jerked awake again. This time his fist went out in automatic retaliation and he opened his eyes upon hearing Buffy’s shocked cry of pain. She was scowling down at him, her eyes narrowed and bottom lip stuck out in hurt anger as she held her bloody nose.


Suddenly Spike smiled in realisation. “Tha’s it, Buffy!” He exclaimed excitedly. “Look down inside yourself and find that anger. There’s a core of violence in there just struggling to get out. That’ll be your inner Slayer waiting for you to get into a good fight so she can let loose. Just let her out to have a bit of fun… she’ll do the rest!”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open in surprise, then in a thoughtful tone she said, “Hit me again.”


Spike grinned wickedly, “If you insist, Slayer…” He sat up to get room to swing and aimed a left hook at her jaw. It didn’t land because Buffy’s forearm blocked it.


“Again!” She was looking positively gleeful at the prospect and Spike began to get just a little bit nervous.


He shrugged and let fly once more. This time Buffy deflected his fist and landed a blow of her own on the point of his jaw, leaving him lying flat on his back. She actually giggled.


Suddenly the possibility of vamping out wasn’t quite as remote as it had been. He struggled back to a sitting position and cocked his head to one side consideringly. “How’s it coming, Slayer?”


With bright eyes and a wide, rather brittle grin she said, “Just one more I think… I’ve nearly got it.” She held up a hand to delay him and sadly added, “I’ll need you to have a good look at my markings so you can describe them to Giles. Perhaps he’ll be able to figure out what kind of demon I am.”


Spike took her hand in his and gently told her, “You may have a touch of demon in you to give you your powers, sweetheart, but you are not a demon. Trust me, I know these things.”


Waving his words away she prompted, “Go on…” She smirked, “One good swing, you know you want to!” When he hesitated she urged, “Give it me good, Spike! Do it!”


Stunned that she would recall the confrontation they’d had the previous year word for word, Spike chuckled at her use of his challenge and lined up his next punch. It had barely touched her jaw when he found himself flat on his back again, this time with a pair of brilliantly glowing emerald eyes shining down on him from the distinctly irritated Slayer perched on his chest.


Of its own accord his hand went up to trace the delicate golden markings on her face and he breathed, “So gorgeous…”


Lisping slightly around the unfamiliar fangs she asked hesitantly, “I’m not groth and ugly with the fangth?”


Spike shook his head fondly and assured her, “Gross and ugly? Far from it beloved. If anything you’re even more beautiful.” He tenderly caressed her cheeks. “Such elegant golden markings, fit for royalty they are.” He sat up and turned her sideways on his lap to see where the mottled speckles blended into her hair. As she moved, the expanse of bare skin between her tank top and her skirt caught his eye and he brushed a smear of dried mud away to expose the line of spots that followed her spine.


Fascinated, he nudged her off his lap and knelt behind her, pushing her top up slightly. “There’s colour down your back too, Slayer. Can you get your kit off so I can see?”


Within seconds Buffy was standing before him naked but for her portal necklace. How she’d managed to get her top off from underneath the necklace without unfastening the complex piece of jewellery was a conundrum that joined Spike’s list of ‘awkward questions to ask one day’, along with the ultimate feminine mystery: how girls could fiddle about for a few seconds and then pull their bras out of one sleeve, without disturbing the rest of their clothing at all.


His weariness completely forgotten, Spike got to his feet and prowled around Buffy’s nude figure examining her closely. At one point he lifted her hair away from her neck to note the way the mottled design over her ears continued under her hair and joined at her nape before flowing in a narrow band down her spine, only to divide again at the small of her back and curve over her buttocks and down the backs of her legs.


His demon had gone from being so dozy he couldn’t be bothered to emerge to struggling to come out to play with his enchanting Mate, and Spike had trouble keeping him suppressed while he made a painstaking study of her body.


After his second circuit Buffy asked nervously, “Spike? What is it? What’s wrong?”


Starting out of his reverie he murmured, “Nothing, Buffy. Absolutely nothing wrong at all. Bloody perfect you are.” He bent to lift one of her legs and examine the sole of her foot, and gave a little “Hmm” of interest.


“Oh… kay, now you’re wigging me out. That’s a Giles noise. You’re not allowed to make Giles noises, it’s creepy!”


Spike came back around in front of her and leant in for a chaste little kiss. “Just obeying instructions and memorising your delectable bod for posterity, sweetness. When we get home I’ll draw the Watcher a pretty little picture, beautiful glowing eyes and all, so he can research to his dusty librarian heart’s content.” He gestured at her eyes, “They’re green now of course ‘cos of the necklace. You weren’t wearing it before were you? They were a lovely warm misty orange down in the cave.”


“All done?” She asked, pure mischief in the twinkle of her eyes.


He nodded, “Yeah, I‘ve got every spot and smudge memorised.”


Seconds later Spike’s shirt was one side of the clearing, his jeans were the other side of the clearing and he was yet again flat on his back with his Slayer astride him, her strong little hands pinning his wrists beside his head. As she slid down onto him, taking him deep inside her body, her mouth descended and she whispered in his ear, “Drink!” Then her fangs were buried in his throat and she sucked strongly.


His face changed in a flash as his demon reacted to the intense double stimulus and he reflexively lunged up and sank his own fangs into his mark, and closing his eyes in bliss he fed greedily as she began to rock on him.


For a few moments he just drank and allowed the triple sensations to wash over him, and almost immediately he felt an explosion of pleasure. His Mate didn’t feed for long, after their sudden orgasm she took only a couple more sips then withdrew her fangs and hoarsely whispered, “Mine!”


Swallowing the blood in his mouth, Spike automatically answered around her flesh, “Yours!”


Upon hearing his response Buffy licked her mark and kissed it then completely relaxed and released his wrists. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her back as he continued to drink.


He didn’t need to encourage his demon to stop feeding when he felt Buffy’s heart skip a beat, in fact he hadn’t realised he had stopped drinking for a while. He was lost in such a sensual haze he only gradually became aware that he was jerking his hips up in yet another climax and his fangs were simply holding her in place. As he gathered his wits he lifted his mouth from her throat and snarled, “Mine!”


As his demon subsided, totally satiated, he tenderly closed the wound and he felt Buffy’s satisfaction as she breathlessly replied, “I’m so yours.”


Still joined, they lay together for a few minutes, completely relaxed and content. Spike no longer felt the need to sleep as Buffy’s Slayer blood was acting as a tonic on his exhausted body, but now he could feel her weariness so he cradled her against his chest and waited for her to recover.


Their peace was shattered by Dawn’s shrill voice yelling, “Buffeeeeee! They’ve found us! I’m making the portal now!”


The outside world came crashing back into their idyll. Vampire and Slayer reluctantly drew apart and jumped up to reach for their clothes. Buffy staggered slightly as she struggled into her boots, light-headed from loss of blood, so once his jeans were fastened Spike slipped his arms into his tattered shirt, swept her up in his arms and ran back downstream towards the others.


As soon as Xander noticed Spike setting Buffy back on her feet he helped Spike into his baldric and duster and then left him to get his damp boots on while he helped Buffy into her coat and handed her her axe.


Tara was standing at the edge of the stream grinning widely as she chanted excitedly and threw roaring fireballs at a group of about fifty demons who were trying to advance upstream towards them. Several scorched bodies lay in the water and there was a patch of burning undergrowth that the demons were trying to smother with water. It was clear that the enraged creatures had been forced to retreat and hang back out of range of the wiccan’s incendiary missiles.


Dawn, meanwhile, was in the centre of the clearing concentrating on her incantation and preparing to cut her hand. She kept glancing around to check everyone’s progress and as soon as Buffy gasped, “We’re ready, Dawnie. Are you sure you know how to get us home?” She slashed her palm and raised her voice slightly as a spurt of blood initiated the familiar disc of glowy green energy.


Her incantation complete, the teenager called out, “Yes! I’m sure! Dunno exactly where we’ll come out, but it should be close to home.” In a confident voice she instructed, “Grab onto the chain! Whatever you do don’t let go until the portal closes!”


As everyone lunged towards the gold chain that she had laid out on the grass she added, “Don’t forget, you go last, Spike…” Then as an afterthought, as she gripped the centre of the chain firmly and prepared to follow Buffy and Tara she cried, “Your sword, Spike! Draw your sword!”


Cursing himself for having forgotten, Spike switched his hold on the end of the chain to his right hand, drew his sword and turned to glance behind him in time to see the demons surge out of the water towards him. He swept the weapon around in a wide circle to fend them off as he was tugged forward when Xander took his leap through the portal, then as he was drawn into the whirling energy he felt multiple impacts of things smashing into his back.


The next thing Spike was aware of was having something soft, dark and heavy that smelled of stale beer and Harris’ sweat dumped over his head as he was picked up bodily and half dragged and half carried across a rough surface. He struggled and cursed whoever was manhandling him, but stilled when he heard Xander’s gasping voice. “Stop wriggling you bleached idiot! We landed in full sun and you were beginning to fry!”


That was when he realised he was injured. His back was in agony and the pain was being aggravated by every bump and jerk. The left side of his face and his left hand were very sore too, and he could smell his own blood and the familiar sweet cloying odour of charred flesh.


How humiliating, he thought resentfully. He was reduced to having the sodding Scooby carpenter saving his unlife yet again, and he could be sure the lad would never let him forget it! When he was dumped on the ground he couldn’t hold in a groan, and as he lost consciousness he reflected that he was never going to live this down.


Once they were under shelter Buffy extracted the spearheads and tended to his injuries, and after a few minutes he regained consciousness as his mystical healing powers kicked in.


Dawn took advantage of the perfect opportunity to point out that they really should all have cellphones. She danced a triumphant little jig when Buffy agreed with her logic and promised to ask Willow to purchase one each for them and programme them with all the numbers they called frequently as well as those they might need in an emergency.

Then Tara and Dawn headed off to find a house to borrow a phone to call Giles and let him know they were back, and to arrange transportation to get them home.


It wasn’t until two very quiet pale faced young women returned to tell them that they had landed in a vineyard twelve miles outside Sunnydale and Giles was on his way to collect them that any of them thought to wonder how much time had passed while they had been gone. They were all vaguely aware that sometimes time passed differently in other dimensions, but even so they were all shocked to discover they had been missing for more than two weeks.


Tara hesitantly told them that after he had recovered his voice from his initial stunned silence Giles had been incoherent with relief that they had all returned safely.


On the way back into town Giles said he wouldn’t ask any questions yet. He was just happy to see them all home safe and well. Even so, Dawn blurted out the fact that they had seen dragons and found gold before she was persuaded to be quiet so that Giles could fill them in on what had been happening in their absence.


Unfortunately he stammered, prevaricated and hesitated so much, all they were able to gather by the time they drew up outside the Summers residence was that he had been extremely busy with research and for a while he had had to take up his previous occupation of managing the Magic Box. After they had been gone three days he had called their respective schools and workplaces and made the convenient interim excuse for them that they all had the ‘Flu. Then he had reluctantly called LA and asked the AI team for assistance. This had resulted in Angel’s arrival with Fred and Gunn.


This disclosure resulted in assorted grunts and sighs, and one very sulky growl of, “Soddin’ wanker.”


Almost as an afterthought the Watcher added that Anya had been unwell for several days but was now fully recovered and was currently restocking the Summers kitchen with the necessary perishables, and that there had been an unspecified problem with Willow.


In fact the only positive exchange during the entire drive resulted in Giles agreeing to buy the SUV from Buffy as he seemed to be the only person who actually used it.


Then they turned onto the Summers’ drive. As she got out of the car Buffy’s voice was deceptively calm as she asked, “Giles, why is the living room window boarded up?”


Taking his glasses off and flapping his handkerchief about, the older man stuttered, “Well… it was really quite unfortunate. There was a slight problem… it seems…”


“Willow.” Tara’s quiet voice was both angry and full of regret as she joined Buffy on the path. “I can feel the backlash of her magic from here. It’s bitter and smoky and very, very dark.” She shuddered, folded her arms across her chest and hunched her shoulders defensively against the discomfort only she felt.


Buffy sighed sadly, “Oh Will…” Then she turned to her Watcher. “She tried to ‘fix it’ didn’t she? I suppose she thought she could just do a spell and magic us back as if by… well... magic.”


Giles nodded, “It appears so. Of course she didn’t consult with any of us when she made her plans, so I can’t say for sure exactly what she intended. We felt the shockwave and heard the blast from over there.” He indicated his new home. “Luckily Willow was only slightly singed, but she spent the remainder of the night in the hospital in shock.” He took a deep breath and confessed, “The following morning I applied to a coven I know in England for someone to come and take her in hand.” He slid his glasses back onto his nose and frowned disapprovingly. “She was still having trouble accepting she did anything wrong, and she was rather… antagonistic when I suggested I should become her magical supervisor.”


Spike snorted at that admission and commented, “Might have worked if you’d tried it a few years back, Rupert. That’s when the girl needed guidance.”


Giles nodded in rueful acknowledgement, “That’s as may be, Spike. Anyway, my old friend Althanea arrived a few days later and took Willow to stay at her hotel with her. I’ve had little contact with either of them since then, although I did give them a quick ring before I came to fetch you, to let them know you had returned. Althanea suggested she needed some time to get to know Willow without any outside influences before she would be able to tell if she could be helped. She has had some considerable experience with mentoring young magic practitioners who have trouble coming to terms with their powers.”


He led the way up the path, opened the front door and ushered them in, warning them gently, “I’m afraid the window was not the only casualty.”


As they stood in the lobby taking in the new decor the acrid odour of charred wood and fabric filled the air. Not only was there a large burnt circle on the living room floor and a matching black patch on the ceiling, but the couch and coffee table were missing, presumably damaged beyond repair. The area rug and several lamps and ornaments had also vanished, the TV screen was cracked and the curtains were also decidedly the worse for the experience.


After a few moments Anya came through from the kitchen announcing brightly, “I’ve prepared some salad, and made sure there’s fresh milk, fruit, bread, blood, juice and all the usual things in the fridge. I’ve left the supermarket receipt on the counter so you know how much you owe me.” She then gave Buffy, Dawn and Tara in turn quick, slightly stiff hugs exclaiming, “I’m glad you’re not dead but you are very dirty and your hair’s a disaster. I’ve gone brunette again. Rupert says the ‘Smokey Topaz’ suits my skin tone much better than the ‘Sheer Diamond’ which apparently made me look brassy. You should have said something.”


Xander muttered sullenly, “I liked the blonde.”


Buffy smiled, ignoring Xander. “I love it, Anya. Giles is quite right, it really does suit you. Thank you for the lovely welcome home.”


Sniffing disdainfully at Xander’s comment Anya said, “I told him he shouldn’t worry about you. I knew you would find a way back sooner or later. After all you are the Slayer!” She looked over their heads at her ex-fiancé and coldly added, “Hello Xander. You need a shave.” She turned away before Xander had a chance to respond and cheerfully addressed Spike. “Angel keeps saying it’s all your fault the portal test went wrong, Spike. That you did something so you could get Buffy and the others away from here to kill them.” She shook her head in disappointment, “He really is a very stupid vampire. He clearly has no idea of what a Mating Bond is, and repeatedly refuses to listen to sense. I told him you would never harm them and would do everything in your power to bring them all home. He persists in ignoring me.” She added reassuringly, “We decided not to tell him your chip is out.” She exchanged a meaningful look with Giles, “We agreed that would only make him even more irrational.”


In that moment a former vengeance demon made a firm friend for life and a Watcher earned the grateful respect of a Master Vampire.

******

His boots having been set out on the back porch to dry and his ruined shirt having been relegated to the kitchen bin, Spike sat at the dining table in just his crumpled, mud encrusted jeans sipping a hot chocolate chaser to his three mugs of pigs’ blood while he waited for his turn in the shower. He had borrowed Dawn’s coloured pencils and sketch pad and was occupied in reproducing Buffy’s Slayer markings while the image was fresh in his mind.


He had finished the full body back view and was currently sketching a close up of his Slayer’s face, fangs and all. Giles was craning his neck to look over his shoulder at the drawing as it developed. He had so far taken his glasses off for a polish at least ten times and Spike had counted fourteen quiet exclamations such as “Dear Lord!” and “Goodness me!” and “Heavens above!”


Spike offhandedly added, “The spots covered the entire soles of her feet too, Watcher, and there they were raised into little nobbles like on a snow tyre.”


All three girls who had accompanied him on the accidental field trip were upstairs hogging the shower and hair dryer. There had been a unanimous decision that he should get last shower as he would be less concerned about the water going cold.


He had not been allowed a vote in this poll.


Assorted floral and fruity perfumes wafted downstairs as doors opened and closed in sequence.


Everyone had agreed they were starving and as they desperately wanted something to eat that wasn’t either plain meat or fish, and as nobody was in a fit state to start cooking, pizza had been the obvious choice. Xander had elected to stay for dinner before heading off to his lonely apartment and as he waited for the pizza to arrive he was in the living room measuring up the window frames in preparation for mending them.


Giles tore his attention from Spike’s artwork for a few moments to check the vampire’s healing back. “I can’t believe that you only received these wounds a couple of hours ago.” The Watcher commented incredulously. “I’ve never seen healing this rapid before, is Buffy’s equally enhanced?”


Spike described the incident in which a spear had pierced Buffy’s abdomen before she got straight up again to continue fighting, and told the Watcher just how quickly the injury had healed. He explained proudly “Any other mortal would likely have died from shock and blood loss. Bloody wonderful it is.” He felt around the place where one of the demon’s spears had caught him in the shoulder as he entered the portal, and to his satisfaction found the wound almost healed. “Seems all I needed was to replace the blood I’d lost and the holes closed over right quick.” A few minutes later he slid his finished drawing along the table to Giles and thoughtfully examined his left hand. “The blisters from where the sun caught me are already gone too.”


Xander’s mocking voice reached them from the living room. “Stupid vampire! A few days of safe sunbathing and he forgot he was fatally allergic here at home. I can’t believe I’m getting into the habit of saving the evil undead’s ass. It goes against the natural order of the universe.” He poked his head around the corner and pointed at his pea coat hanging on the coat rack by the door. “I’ll expect to be reimbursed for the dry-cleaning too, Captain Peroxide. No way will all the vampire blood that you leaked all over my coat come out with a gentle dab with a damp cloth!”


Spike reached across to the side table where they’d dumped the backpacks upon arriving home. “Here, whelp. Take it out of this.” He tossed the young man one of the four beaten gold spear heads that Buffy had dug out of him. “’S’only right you get a share of the spoils.” He hesitated for a few seconds then threw a second one after it, adding thoughtfully, “Two for you and two for Pickle. Niblet’s got her knife and her big chain, she can share with her sister, and I’ve got my talon.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully and concluded smugly, “Profitable little jaunt all round!”

******

Dawn was the first to come back downstairs. She found Spike, Giles, Anya and Xander sitting around the dining table picking at the salad, still waiting for the pizza that if it took much longer would pass the maximum advertised delivery time limit and instantly become free. She was still flushed from the shower and smelt of minty toothpaste and lavender talcum powder as she marched up to Spike in her cute teddy bear pyjamas. She wordlessly grabbed him by the hand, dragged him protesting half-heartedly into the living room, shoved him down into the armchair, handed him her hairbrush and plonked herself down on the floor in front of him with her back turned.


Spike sniggered when he saw the birds’ nest formerly known as Dawn’s hair and dutifully set to work unravelling four days worth of tangles.


Sitting hugging her knees to her chest the teenager sulkily muttered, “Next time we make a portal, remind me to put a hairbrush in my pocket. Just in case. ‘kay?”


Xander piped up with, “Oh, and we have to take a full camping cooking kit. I do like campfire roast meat, but some of those dried emergency rations and a pot to make a stew and one to boil water in for coffee would be handy.”


Tara’s disembodied voice added from upstairs, “And I’ll pack up some general magical supplies and make a note of some handy spells. Oh and we could do with a proper first aid kit too, one that’s good for humans as well as vampires!”


Buffy chimed in by calling out, “And a toothbrush and toothpaste… and some soap… and tissues and wet wipes… Oh, and some chocolate… and a change of clothes… Oh, and remind me not to wear a skirt next time!”


Dawn took up the list again with an emphatic, “Oh, and we’ll really need to take a toilet roll!” After the laughter had died down she called out, “Spike’ll need to pack his blanket in future, Giles. He could go out in the sun where we went, but we don’t know that’ll always happen, and he nearly fried when we came back. I can’t lose my Protector ‘cos he turns into a pile of dust ‘cos he gets zapped back home during the day!”


They were jokingly adding more and more outlandish things to take with them next time despite Giles’ repeated reminders that the whole point was for only Spike actually to pass through the portal to close it, when a knock came at the front door.


Assuming that it was the pizza delivery guy at last, Xander eagerly jumped up to answer the door. Giles followed, taking his wallet out ready.


As soon as Xander unlatched the door it was shoved roughly open, crashing into him. As a massive dark figure burst into the house Xander was forced back into Giles, and they both staggered back against the stairs, with Xander landing heavily on top of the older man.


A huge hand grabbed Spike, lifting him out of his chair and causing Dawn to give a shrill cry of pain when her hair was wrenched out of his hand.


Spike found himself being held by the neck up against the wall with his feet dangling inches from the floor and a meaty fist clenched around a wooden stake over his heart. With his eyes flashing angrily between gold and brown Angel snarled, “Spike! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end you right now, you useless idiot.”


In the past, Spike thought, such a situation would have been exhilarating. All right, he admitted to himself, it would have been terrifying. In fact it had been. Frequently. He found it interesting that this time it was only mildly irritating. He was confident that Angel wouldn’t dust him in Buffy’s home. Well… not in front of witnesses anyway. So he decided to have a bit of fun at his grandsire’s expense.


He sucked his teeth, tilted his head as much as he could under the circumstances, raised his scarred eyebrow and drawled, “Angelus! What fun! Fancy seeing you here!”


He ignored Angel’s sulky response of, “It’s Angel!”


Spike continued musingly, “Now let me see… what was it Darla always used to say whenever you threatened to dust me? Oh yeah… I’m far too pretty to kill… and of course she didn’t want me gone ‘cos once she and Dru had finished training me up I gave the world’s best he…”


Angel’s hand tightened around Spike’s neck and cut off his airway so he couldn’t complete his taunt and the sharp point of the stake pricked his flesh, sending a thin dribble of blood down his chest. The big vampire’s eyes narrowed and he whispered furiously, “You won’t finish that sentence.” He flared his nostrils dramatically as he registered Spike’s scent, which only made Spike smirk even more. He knew that after the events of the past few days he reeked of Buffy. More specifically, of sex with Buffy. Angel shuddered in distaste then sneered, “I know what you did. Why don’t you just admit it now and make all our lives easier? You tampered with the portal somehow to get Buffy away from here so you could take advantage of her, didn’t you?”


Spike merely raised his eyebrow and looked calmly back into those brown eyes, his tongue curled behind his teeth as he waited for Angel to realise he needed air to respond. As he waited his attention was drawn past Angel’s shoulder to where Dawn was standing with her arms folded across her chest glaring furiously at the brunette vampire’s back. He couldn’t resist winking conspiratorially at her.


Dawn shook her head and made a frustrated growling noise, then strode up to Angel’s shoulder and tried to pry his hand from Spike’s neck. Naturally she made no impression. She impatiently scolded Angel, batting ineffectually at his arm, “Leave him alone, you big bully. Spike did nothing wrong!”


Angel spoke to her in that infuriating slow super-patient tone that one uses to address small, rather stupid children. “Of course he did, Dawn. You don’t know Spike like I do. If something goes wrong it’s always his fault. He’s always plotting some stupid scheme, usually involving his crazy obsession with Slayers. Don’t interfere, child, this is none of your business. It’s up to me to discipline him, it always was. Drusilla was always too lenient with him.” He lifted the hand holding the stake away from Spike’s chest briefly to brush Dawn away and sent her sprawling to the floor. He didn’t bother to look down, immediately dismissing her presence from his notice.


She jumped up in tears and slapped him forcefully in the face, crying, “You bully! I hate you! Buffy is so going to kick your ass!” At the same time Spike vamped out for a few seconds, livid at seeing his Niblet so abused.


Angel blinked and an eyebrow twitched slightly, but otherwise didn’t react.


As far as Spike was concerned all the fun had abruptly gone out of the situation, and he decided that enough was enough. He raised his left hand, gripped the meaty fist holding the stake to his heart, and smirking at the expression of smug confidence on his grandsire’s face he began to squeeze. He had tried this manoeuvre in the past with no success whatever, but that had been before his Bond with his Slayer and his resulting increase in strength, not to mention his recent regular dietary supplement of Slayer blood.


“Well boy, what do you have to say for yourself?”


Absently listening to the sound of Dawn charging upstairs, Xander greeting the pizza delivery guy and Anya frantically begging Giles to wake up, and angry at being once again addressed as ‘boy’, Spike opened and closed his mouth a few times to demonstrate his inability to speak without air and tensed ready for action in preparation for Angel loosening his grip.


After a few seconds Angel said in a low threatening tone, “Are ye not gonna answer me, Willy me boy?”


Spike frowned slightly. The emergence of Liam’s broad Irish brogue was never a good sign. It meant that Angelus was uncomfortably close to the surface. Once more he opened his mouth and grimaced, raising his scarred eyebrow in a ‘duh’ expression. Angel really was being remarkably dense, even for him.


Increasing his pressure on Angel’s hand Spike concentrated on his grandsire’s expression, which was actually changing. The familiar smugness had faded and a slight crease appeared in his forehead between his eyes, which only someone who knew him well would recognise as a sign of doubt. He glanced down at the hand holding the stake and back up to Spike’s face, his eyes betraying his confusion.


Then a small bone in Angel’s hand gave up the struggle and broke.


He gaped down again at where his fist was being squeezed by Spike’s much smaller hand. Two more bones snapped, then another. Then Angel gasped in shock and pain as there was a satisfying crunch and the stake crumbled and fell away, allowing Angel’s hand to be totally crushed. Spike took the opportunity of Angel’s distraction to bring a knee up forcefully between the other vampire’s legs.


Angel stumbled back with a sharp cry and pulled his broken hand away, releasing Spike so he could cradle it with his other hand as he fell to the floor and curled up around his bruised genitals, whimpering pitifully.


Regaining his feet, Spike leant against the wall, massaged his bruised throat and coughed to open out his airway as Angel looked in astonishment between Spike and his useless hand. He gasped accusingly, “You’ve been feeding from her! How could you, you disgusting creature?”


Spike croaked disbelievingly, “Bugger that! Have your advancing years finally caught up with you and sent you senile, you gormless git? You do remember how I have to close Niblet’s portals, don’t you?”


Before Angel could come up with a reply, Dawn came crashing down the stairs and ran back into the room, closely followed by Buffy whose sweat pants and tank top showed dark patches where she’d hurriedly dragged them on when she was still wet from the shower. Dawn went straight to Spike and hugged him. After she’d run her eyes over her Mate briefly and ascertained he was all right Buffy stood in the doorway and looked questioningly between the two vampires, her hair continuing to drip unnoticed. With her fists on her hips she rolled her eyes and demanded impatiently, “Are you two fighting again? Aren’t you ever going to able to be in the same room without coming to blows? I thought you’d got past that!”


Spike pointed at Angel and sulkily defended himself, “Ask the great brooding bogtrotter. I was just sitting here minding my own business and helping the Bit with her hair…”


Angel burst out with an anguished whine, “He crushed my hand! I was just trying to find out what he did to pull you with him into the other dimension and the little shit broke my hand!”


Buffy took in the splintered stake on the floor and the blood on Spike’s chest and sarcastically retorted, “Oh, and I suppose you were just asking him nicely when you threatened him with a stake!”


Sitting up awkwardly, Angel blustered, “Buffy! You know that it’s the only way you can get through to Spike! He only responds to violence!”


While Anya helped Giles shuffle into the room and eased him into the armchair Buffy was shaking her head in disbelief. She rolled her eyes and patiently explained to her first love, “Angel. A Hellgod tortured Spike for information for hours, and he didn’t break. Drusilla bled him, burned him, and whipped him and he wouldn’t submit. Even if he had done anything wrong what on earth made you think that a little intimidation from you would make him talk?” Angel shrugged and turned his ‘wounded puppy dog’ eyes on her.


Once she’d got Giles settled comfortably with a packet of frozen peas held to the back of his head Anya stood with her arms folded, glared at Angel who was struggling to his feet and angrily retorted, “And what about poor Rupert? Does he only respond to violence? And Xander? What had they done to deserve you hurting them? They are human and fragile and you could have broken them!”


As Giles looked around in bewilderment Tara and Xander appeared in the doorway to see what was going on, Xander already munching on a piece of pizza. Giles asked weakly, “Now what’s happened? Have I missed something?”


Xander sniggered, “Yeah Giles, while you were sleeping the sleep of the knocked unconscious. You really know you’re back in Sunnydale now, don’t you?”


Ignoring Xander’s levity and Giles’ impatient huffing Dawn eagerly piped up, “Angel was being a jerk! After he forced his way in and knocked Giles and Xander down he was threatening to stake Spike for no reason… and… and he pushed me over!”


Seeing all faces turned to him disapprovingly Angel stepped back nervously. He sighed and tried to explain. “You don’t understand. I was trying to find out what Spike had done to abduct Buffy and the others. I was just beginning to get somewhere when…”


Dawn interrupted him with an impatient scream. “Aaaargh! I told you! Spike didn’t do anything wrong! He saved my life!”


At the same time Spike was sulkily protesting, “Wasn’t me. Pillock. Got no call attacking a bloke in his own home. Didn’t even let me get enough air to answer him. Tosser.”


And Tara was sidling up to Spike where he stood with Dawn’s arms around his waist. She laid an arm protectively around his back saying, “But Spike saved my life…”


Buffy gave up trying to understand what everyone was saying, and shouted, “Enough!” When everyone fell silent and looked at her in astonishment she continued. “Angel, it wasn’t Spike’s fault the portal test went wrong. It was mine. And even if he had done anything wrong it would be none of your business, we’d deal with it ourselves.” She frowned briefly, “And by the way, how did you get in? We did a general disinvite spell…”


“Willow invited me in when I first arrived to help.” Angel shook his head and in a very patronising tone told her, “You don’t understand, Buffy. Spike’s made you think it was your fault somehow, but I can assure you that it was him. He just wanted to get you away from here so he could hurt you.”


It was Xander who contradicted Angel. In a very confident tone he asserted, “No. Actually he didn’t. I saw his reaction when he realised something had gone wrong. He was as shocked as I was, and he really lost it when he thought something had happened to Buffy. Besides… if it wasn’t for the Peroxide Peril and his Mating Bond with Buffy we’d all be wandering around in that endless forest starving to death while we tried to find each other... or we’d be being eaten by dragons… or captured by demons...”


Angel gaped at him. “What? Why are you defending him, Xander? You hate him! You know you can’t trust him! He hasn’t got a soul! As soon as that chip of his comes out…”


Xander shrugged, “What? I can’t grow up and change my mind about someone? The fact remains that the bleached menace looked after us, found food and water for us and helped us get back home.” He regarded Spike thoughtfully for a moment then turned his attention back to Angel. “And I’ve just realised something. After everything that’s happened recently, even chipless I’d trust him more without a soul than I’ve ever trusted you with one.”


For a few seconds Spike gaped at the young man in shock. He wasn’t too surprised the girls were sticking up for him, but for Xander Harris to say even a single positive thing about him was a mind boggling event. He hesitantly said, “Er… thanks Harris.”


Xander pointed at him accusingly, a smile threatening to lift the corners of his mouth. “Don’t read anything into that! I still don’t like you. I just don’t hate you quite as much as I did before. Okay?”


Spike chuckled and nodded, “Gotcha.”


Buffy smiled at her Xander shaped friend. “Thank you Xander, that means a lot.” She heaved a big sigh and addressed the room, “Now. We’re all tired and hungry and I know I just want to eat my pizza before it gets cold and then get some sleep. Can we please leave all the accusations and recriminations until tomorrow?” She looked at Giles. “Big Scooby meeting tomorrow night, right? After everyone’s finished with work and school, say eight o’clock? I promise I’ll explain everything then. We need to find out what’s been happening while we’ve been gone as well as telling you what happened to us. Please could you try to make sure Willow’s there?” She looked around her trashed living room and scowled. “She has some explaining to do. Her guilt cookies aren’t going to fix this!” When Giles agreed she turned to Angel and coldly said, “Angel. If you can’t play nice with Spike, perhaps you’d better stay away. I’m sure Giles can tell us how you’ve been getting on here… before you started attacking people, that is.”


In an offended tone Angel declared, “Of course I’ll be there, Buffy. Perhaps when you’ve calmed down and had a chance to rest I’ll be able to make you see sense about Spike. Besides, I need to tell you about the result of some inquiries I’ve been making for you while you were gone. There won’t be any trouble with Spike at the meeting, after all he isn’t part of the group so he won’t be there.” Before anyone had the chance to contradict him he stalked out of the house his coat billowing out behind him, a slight limp spoiling his dramatic exit somewhat.


It was Anya who broke the stunned silence with her matter of fact observation, “See what I mean? Completely irrational.”


TBC

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. There was the assignment from Hell to complete… and I’ve just discovered I’ve been studying the wrong book ready for the next one. Well nobody told me there was a second edition, did they? Or at least… they probably did, but you know what it’s like…