Resolutions

Sorry, I forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter: I don’t own ‘Blackadder’ or any of its characters. As far as I know they are the property of the BBC and Richard Curtis, Rowan Atkinson & Ben Elton. In the previous chapter I borrowed a few lines from season 2 episode 1, ‘Bells’ and in this chapter I have borrowed a few lines from season 2 episode 2, ‘Head’.

Chapter 12


“Oy, Slayer!” Spike shouted without taking his eyes from the computer screen.


His Mate came running down the stairs and skidded around the corner into the dining room. “What is it? What’s wrong?”


“Huh…?”


“You yelled!”


“Oh, nothing’s wrong…”


“In that case, it’s Buffy.”


“Wha’?”


“We’re not training or on patrol now, Spike. When we’re at home and there’s nothing Slayery happening, I’m Buffy.”


“Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. Anyway… guess what I found?”


She came around the dining table to peer over his shoulder. “Are you snooping in the Council database again?”


Spike sniggered. “Yeah, good fun it is! Makes up for missing my stories on the telly. I’m finding all sorts of fascinating stuff.”


“Bad Spike!” She jokingly wagged a finger at him as if she was scolding a small child then pulled a chair around and sat beside him so she could see the screen better. “So what is it this time?”


“Found a list of what they call: ‘Noted Historical Slayers’.”


“So... anyone I might have heard of?”


“Yeah. At least… Even making allowances for the crap American education system, you must have heard of Joan of Arc?”


“Joan of Arc was a Slayer?”


“Yeah… explains her ‘visions from God’ dunnit? That’ll have been her Slayer dreams. Charismatic leader and outstanding warrior too, like all Slayers.”


“Wasn’t she burned at the stake?”


“Yeah. She was only about nineteen, poor girl. Not offed by a demon in the course of duty as she deserved. Killed by bloody humans who thought she was a witch and got scared of her.”


“I can see where that might happen. I was nearly burned at the stake once… Willow and Amy too. That was when Amy went ratty trying to escape.”


“What? Who’d want to…?”


“Um… well it was mom, actually…” She shrugged apologetically. “There was a Hansel and Gretel demon. It got everyone all paranoid about the occult ‘cos it fed off human fears. There was mass hysteria and burning of books and everything. Giles was devastated by what they did to his library. It was all very Hellmouthy.”


“Funny… when we lost our memories you chose to be called Joan….”


“Oh yeah. I must have been channelling her or something.” She leaned against his shoulder. “Who else is there…?”


“Grand Duchess Anastasia?”


“Who she?”


“Youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas of all the Russias. Don’t expect she got out to Slay much. She’d have had too much trouble trying to dodge all the soddin’ governesses and palace guards. Says here her only acknowledged Slaying was of that Rasputin chap.”


“I knew it! The professor totally humiliated me in class when I said he was too hard to kill to have possibly been human. Intro to Flights of Fancy indeed… I’ll flight his fancy…”


Trying to disguise his laugh at her indignation as a cough, Spike continued, “Turns out he was a satyr. Shagged half the Royal household before they caught on, lucky bug… uh… that is… the disgusting evil thing!”


Buffy scowled at him and swatted his arm, so to distract her from his slip of the evil he kept reading, “Anastasia was Called just before Christmas 1916 when she was fifteen… Says here they’d tried to get rid of the Mad Monk several times but it wasn’t until she crept up behind the blokes attacking him and shot him right in the middle of his forehead with her Watcher’s Webley service revolver that they had a chance. Bigger bullet than the Russkies were using and of course she had better aim. Then they wrapped him in a rug and chucked him in a canal so he went under the ice. Even he couldn’t come back from that.”


“Ooh! Wasn’t she the one they made those films about… the one who survived the revolution?”


“Yeah... that is, no. They made the films, yeah, but the woman they were about was an imposter. Anastasia didn’t survive. Couldn’t have ‘cos it says she was the Slayer until July seventeenth 1918. That’s when the whole Royal family was murdered by the Bolshie secret police at Ekaterinburg.”


“Oh God! Another Slayer killed by humans…? Only seventeen… poor girl…” She grunted sulkily. “Depressing… don’ wanna know any more…”


“So you don’t want to hear about Sophia Magdalena Scholl?”


“I’m sensing a pattern here. Don’t tell me… another Slayer killed by humans?”


“Well… as it happens, yeah. She and her brother were anti-Nazi protestors in World War Two Germany. Lass took her duty to fight evil in all its forms seriously…”


“How did she die?”


“Guillotine.”


“Meh. No more.” She pushed the laptop closed and reminded him, “Sun’s gonna be down soon, they’re all gonna be here in a minute for dinner before Operation Warehouse… Whatcha cookin’?”

******

“So, Buffy…” Giles began, leaning against the rusty railing and peering around the cavernous warehouse in bemusement. “How exactly did you say you found this place?”


“It was where the little samurai vamp was holed up for his ritual to bring his Mate back,” the Slayer told him, puffing a bit as she carted a bundle of crash mats down the rickety metal steps and past Spike who was reluctantly wielding his broom very half-heartedly… and he knew she’d set him to sweeping because he wouldn’t breathe in the dust the broom threw up but surely Master Vampires shouldn’t be expected to do such menial labour? Not for the first time or the last, Spike silently bemoaned his lack of minions.


“And you were able to locate the owners and arrange to rent it?”


“Uh… well… there’s a bit of a funny story about that…” Buffy said sheepishly, chewing her lip as she dumped her load in a corner Spike hadn’t got to yet, raising a choking cloud of dust.


“She totally beat up my self-defence instructor.” Dawn put in helpfully, following her sister down with a box of magic supplies.


“I didn’t!” Buffy protested, then after a Look from Dawn she conceded, “Well... maybe I did…” She held up a hand with her thumb and forefinger poised a fraction of an inch apart. “…little bit…” When Giles raised his eyebrows and looked disapprovingly over his glasses at her she added defensively, “It was an accident! And so not my fault! He came at me from behind and everyone knows you shouldn’t creep up on a Slayer from behind.”


Dawn rolled her eyes. “Buffy, he didn’t attack you, he just put his hand on your shoulder! You know… the way you do when you’re trying to attract someone’s attention? It was your own fault you’d got back earlier than usual and I wasn’t ready yet. He only wanted to talk to you. He didn’t deserve to be thrown fifteen feet across the room!” She turned to Giles, “He’s a big guy, too.” She giggled as she held her hand about a foot above her head to demonstrate. “You should have seen his face…”


“I apologised!”


“Yeah… then you went on to thoroughly thrash the poor guy.”


“It was his idea! He said he wanted to… uh... ‘evaluate my skills level’.”


“He suggested a workout, Buffy. Not a beat-down! You totally creamed him!”


“But then he gave me a job so it’s all good… yeah?” Buffy concluded in an extra peppy tone, observing her Watcher’s reaction warily from the corner of her eye.


“A job? Buffy, I thought you didn’t want…”


“Oh, not a DoubleHell slavery kinda job, Giles. He said there wasn’t anyone available to take the advanced self-defence class some of his students were ready for but he didn’t have time to set up… and his family kinda own all these warehouses that nobody seems to want to rent so they’re falling into disrepair… and somehow he’d found out I’d helped clear the… uh…” She mimed ‘air quotes’ as she euphemised, “…‘squatting vagrants’ out of this one, so he said in exchange for helping him out sometimes and taking a couple advanced classes a week I could use it rent-free for training and help keep it maintained so there wouldn’t be any more ‘squatters’ moving in.”


She pointed up to the sparkling clean windows just under the roof. “Look, he even got the windows fixed and arranged for replacement locks on the doors…” She looked around at the filthy, trash-strewn concrete floor and scrunching her nose up in dismay added in a considerably less enthusiastic tone, “Now he’s got the power and water reconnected, we just need to clean the place up a bit…” Then spreading her arms out like a sales model on a display stand she cheerfully added, “And did I mention… rent-free!”


It didn’t take long for Buffy to get everyone busy with their allotted tasks. Spike smiled as he mentally likened her to a tiny general, efficiently deploying her troops.


Xander had his tool belt on and was tightening the bolts on the shaky staircase or replacing them as required and seeing to all the other remaining repair jobs that needed doing.


Giles saw to marking out the corner under the office and gallery to show where pieces of training equipment should go, leaving the main floor free for sparring. Then he began making a practice dummy for target practice with long range weapons such as the crossbow, which there wasn’t room for in the smaller training room at the Magic Box. He’d decided to suspend it from the gallery so it could be set swinging and spinning to make it more lifelike.


Althanea, Tara and a very subdued Willow were ‘doing the magic thing’ as Buffy had put it, painting similar protection glyphs on the walls as in the training room and putting wards on all the access points in order to disguise them from demons other than Spike and Anya and deter them from entering.


Willow leapt to obey the slightest suggestion made by her English mentor and occasionally darted wide-eyed hopeful glances Buffy’s way, as if eager to be given a task only she could perform. She was disappointed because the Slayer pointedly ignored her, couching her requests as suggestions to Althanea in the form: ‘do you think one of you could…’ which led to the older woman delegating to either Tara or Willow as appropriate.


The blonde wiccan was also avoiding close contact with the redhead, which occasionally caused Willow to pout unhappily when she noticed her former lover deliberately keeping her distance.


Anya had elected to clean out the office space which included a tiny kitchenette and a make-shift cubicle containing a shower, washbasin and toilet, all of which Xander had inspected and pronounced safe to use. Spike suspected this was so that she could stay as far away from Willow as she could.


Dawn trotted between the various workers, fetching and carrying and doling out big black garbage bags as required.


Taking a bandana from her jeans pocket and wrapping it securely around her mouth and nose, Buffy grabbed a second broom and joined Spike in sweeping the wide expanse of floor as she kept an eye on all the others, issuing confident instructions or gentle encouragement as appropriate.


Around the dining table earlier, they had all been concentrating more on the meal than each other…


“How did you get this delicious batter so crispy, Spike?”


“It’s a secret I learned from Cook doing the Friday night fish supper, Rupert. Newkie brown instead of water in the batter. Couldn’t find any beef dripping though, had to use that vegetable oil muck.”


“And my arteries breathe a sigh of relief and thank you.”


“Why are these fries so thick? They’re mighty good though… any more left?”


“They’re not fries, you twit, they’re chips. Real chips made from real King Edward spuds, not those floppy spindly little things you call fries that came pre-processed, pre-packed and pre-ruined. Far better for you humans, less fat. More keeping warm in the oven, Harris. Help yourself.”


“I don’t generally like fish… but this is good. What is it?”


“Nice bit o’ haddock. Found it hiding in the back of the freezer compartment when I was roped in to being Tara’s packhorse for her trip to the supermarket.”


“You mean you found it when you were fiddling around rearranging all the displays out of order ‘cos you got bored while I was in the dairy section trying to choose which cheeses to get.”


“Well... yeah.”


“Mmmm… I haven’t tasted anything as good as this since I last visited an old school chum near Harrogate.”


“I’m flattered to be compared with the Great Harry, Milady.”


As a result, this was the first proper chance Spike had had to see them all together again since the revelations in the Magic Box. As he worked he surreptitiously observed the interactions between the Scoobies.


It seemed to him that the only person treating Willow normally was Althanea. Everyone else was either trying their best to ignore her or was deliberately avoided speaking to her and turning away every time they caught her looking at them. The only exceptions were Giles who spoke to her but couldn’t disguise his continuing disapproval, and Xander Harris who occasionally exchanged a few friendly words with her before catching himself up short when he remembered he was supposed to be angry with her.


Having been on the receiving end of a similar brand of ostracism himself more than once, Spike recognised that it was as painful for the young witch as it had always been for him. As he well knew, even the harshest words would have been preferable to the silent treatment.


Even though he was furious with her for the way she had abused her powers and betrayed her friends’ trust, he found himself feeling sorry for her. He recognised a lot of himself in her. The constant striving for approval, the desperate need to be accepted as part of something greater and the occasional impulsive enthusiasm for a hare-brained scheme that backfired and had the opposite effect to that desired.


The mere fact that she had had the courage to show up and help despite being fully aware of the reception she was likely to receive spoke volumes about the way she felt about her friends and her determination to keep fighting evil with them. The fact that she had not been totally rejected and had been allowed to help equally demonstrated the way they felt about her.


Spike smiled quietly to himself as he acknowledged with unaccustomed relief that while they had suffered yet another painful disruption, the complex relationships within the group would inevitably be reordered and resolved, and then when the dust had settled the bonds that tied them together would be the stronger for it.


And a stronger Scooby gang could only mean a stronger Slayer, which as far as he was concerned was the most important thing.


Gradually Spike became aware that the steady rhythmic swishing of the broom that had been following behind his left shoulder had fallen silent and he idly turned to see what Buffy was doing. She was standing looking down at a small pile of vampire dust, a puzzled frown creasing her brow.


“What’s up, darlin’?”


Buffy glanced up at him, still looking very thoughtful. “This is where I nearly staked Angel.”


“Yeah?” He smirked, “Just one ‘off’ moment in an otherwise perfect fight, Slayer. Can’t blame yourself for missing him.”


Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled the bandana down so it hung around her neck. “Idiot. It’s not that… It’s just… He took me by surprise, jumping into the fight like that. I didn’t recognise his vampy signature.” Her voice rose in confusion as she let her broom clatter to the ground and began gesturing helplessly. “But why didn’t I recognise his vampy signature?”


She turned to Giles who was observing with interest. “Giles? In LA I knew instinctively where Angel was, just as I did with Spike. But in the fight with the samurai vamp’s minions, Angel came up behind me and all I felt was: ‘Danger! Very old vampire!’.” Panicking slightly now, she cried, “Why didn’t I immediately know it was Angel, Giles? Why didn’t I get that soothing cool blue-green tingle on my skin?”


Giles went to take his glasses off but discovered the manoeuvre hampered by his grip on a ball of twine in one hand and a staple gun in the other. Scratching his head with a single grubby finger instead, he said, “I don’t know, Buffy. Does Spike still appear as… what was it? A golden pillar of fire?”


Her mouth forming a silent ‘oh’, Buffy took a deep breath, let it out slowly and closed her eyes. Without hesitation she spun on the spot several times and stopped only when she started wobbling. She paused for a couple of seconds to regain her balance then with her eyes still tight shut she turned and pointed unerringly at her Mate. “Yup. Still all fiery.” She cocked her head to one side. “He is a bit different, though. There’s more gold now, less silver. And it’s a kinda deeper, richer gold. He’s still a pillar of fire, but it feels kinda warmer fire somehow… and yes, I am aware that makes no sense.”


Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and leered, asking seductively, “Do I still make your blood hum, Slayer?”


She opened her eyes to wink at him and huskily replied, “Oh yeah… All kinds’a humming going on here…”


Giles cleared his throat loudly to draw the suddenly oblivious couple’s attention to the fact that they weren’t alone and suggested, “I can’t say for sure, Buffy, but do you think it might be as a result of Angel’s Claim on you being broken? Perhaps the difference you felt between the two vampires was the difference between the very real physical and emotional link you feel with Spike and the ‘special connection’ you previously felt with Angel that was in fact caused by his Claim. Now his Claim has been broken… and Spike’s has taken its place…”


“Oh.” Buffy gazed into space as she chewed her lip, then slowly began nodding her head. “Do you know? I think you must be right, Giles. I didn’t even think of that.”


Feeling a brief wash of sadness, Spike moved to comfort his Slayer, but before he could reach her she had hitched the bandana back up, picked up her broom and resumed her sweeping in a slightly more energetic fashion than before. He paused when she looked up at him with a little nod that showed him she had recognised his intention but that it wasn’t necessary.


Infected by Buffy’s determination, Spike took up his own broom and fell in at her shoulder, marvelling at how well they had come to communicate through the Bond even though they couldn’t pass thoughts directly.


He couldn’t help his disappointment at her sadness that her Claim with Angel had been broken, but he comforted himself with the thought that she had agreed to the transfer, even if she hadn’t been fully aware at the time of what would come of it.


When they reached the far corner of the warehouse and prepared to scoop the accumulated piles of trash and vampire dust into garbage bags, Buffy grabbed his arm and made him face her. Quietly so that nobody would overhear, she impatiently told him, “You’re a dope, you know that?”


His gaze fixed firmly on the floor, Spike shrugged and tried to turn away but she kept tight hold of him, pulled the bandana down and continued, “I wasn’t feeling sorry Angel’s Claim was broken. I was feeling sorry it was there in the first place!”


He looked up into her eyes for confirmation and saw nothing but sincerity blazing back at him.


“Then, do you know what? I realised that if Angel hadn’t Claimed me I would probably have stayed with Riley, trying to make a bad relationship work. Then when I came back, you and I would never have got together and I wouldn’t have treated you so badly you felt you needed to get away and I wouldn’t have realised how much you meant to me and chased after you to LA and you wouldn’t have needed to take over the Claim…” She took a deep breath and concluded with a little smile, “And I would never have known how True Love should feel!”


Spike wasn’t aware of moving, but suddenly his arms were full of Slayer.


“Geez guys. Get a room, why don’t you?”


Spike tore his lips from Buffy’s and turned to flash a bit of fang and snarl, “Sod off,” at the unwelcome intruder.


Dawn rolled her eyes. “Oh puhlease. You don’t scare me, you grumpy old Daddy bear.” Spike stood gaping at her, utterly stunned as she calmly turned to Buffy who was blushing and clearing her throat in embarrassment as she attempted to bring order to her dishevelled hair and clothing. “Xander wants to know where you want the weapons cabinet. He says it’s got to be bolted to a structural wall ‘cos otherwise however secure the lock on it is, someone could steal all the weapons by walking off with the whole thing.”


“Uh… in the office, I think. ‘Cos then when we’re ready to pack up it’ll be handy to take stuff up to put away on the way out, then when we’re done we can lock the office door too.” Buffy started to explain where she had thought appropriate then stopped and said, “You know what? I think I’d better come see…”


Spike looked on, still gaping speechlessly as his Slayer walked off with the Key, neither of them disguising the fact they were giggling at him. As she turned to ascend the stairs, Buffy met his eyes and teasingly mouthed, ‘Daddy bear’, then clamped her lips between her teeth to prevent her laughter escaping again, a feat she managed until she was half way up the stairs.

****

Spike was struggling up the narrow staircase with four bulky garbage bags when he tuned in to the voices in the office.


“…still don’t get it. Please explain to me why we’re spending a whole evening of our precious free time helping Buffy and Spike clean out this disgusting warehouse when we could be doing something far more enjoyable involving less mucky sweatiness and prospective achiness… that’s not even the good kind.”


Giles’ indulgent amusement was clearly audible. “Because we’re doing them a favour, Anya. By all working together we’re efficiently combining all our different skills and getting the job done in a fraction of the time it would have taken just the two of them.”


“Oh! Oh! I know this one! ‘Many hands make light work.’ Have I got it right?”


“Yes you have, Anya. Well done. It’s the same principle as when they all helped us out at the Magic Box on Hallowe’en. That time they were doing us a favour. It’s what friends do for each other. They help each other out without asking for anything in exchange.”


“But Spike didn’t help us out at Hallowe’en, Rupert, even though I thought at the time his assistance would have been invaluable. Apart from the whole handy superstrength deal he really is extraordinarily observant and if he’d been present we would have known much sooner that it was Dawn who was stealing all those small items that I was going crazy about losing from the inventory.”


“Uh… You had intended to ask Spike to come and help?”


“Well yes, of course! He had repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to help and a desire to join in with the general group activities. Xander said he wouldn’t be welcome though as everybody hated him. I told him he was wrong about that as I liked Spike, he was most sympathetic when I was feeling bad about losing my powers. I also knew Tara never hated him and even started liking him after he helped her by punching her on the nose that time… and Dawn was missing him because she’d got very fond of him over that summer Buffy was dead but when Buffy came back Xander kept being nasty to him and chasing him off… and Buffy clearly liked him a lot more than she was pretending as she was spending so much time with him… and now of course we know why… but then Xander started shouting again and went dangerously red in the face, so I dropped the idea.”


Giles cleared his throat. “Uh… From what little Buffy has told me I gather Buffy and Spike didn’t start… that is they weren’t intimate until shortly after the incident with the theft of the diamond and the frozen museum guard.”


“Oh, but they were giving each other Special Looks for a long time before that. They flirted constantly and the air fairly sizzled between them… and of course we’d known for ages that Spike’s deeply in love with Buffy. It was only a matter of time…”


Spike became aware that he had paused half way up the stairs to listen to the enlightening conversation. He had given himself a little shake and started climbing again when Anya continued, “So… we’re preparing another training area for them… why?”


Giles patiently explained, “Buffy feels she needs some more… intense training than she is able to achieve with me. She intends to resume sparring with Spike.”


“Is the excellent training room Xander helped set up at the Magic Box somehow inadequate?”


“Not inadequate, Anya my dear. It’s just too small to accommodate their extra enhanced strengths.” A smile was evident in his voice as he added, “And do you really want them to begin sparring in the back room of the shop again? You know how disruptive to business it was the last time, with all the noise and the way the whole building shook repeatedly and the… uh… noises…”


“Oh. Yes. That is a very good point, Rupert. It was distracting my attention from the customers… particularly when the noises went from violent to orgasmic.” After a pause she added thoughtfully, “So can we convert the training room into extra commercial space now as I wanted to before? It would almost double the amount of inventory we could carry and…”


“I’m afraid not, my dear. I shall still need the space for Buffy’s other less... physical training sessions. She is still having a lot of trouble suppressing her new senses when she doesn’t need them, particularly her newly acute sense of smell which is discommoding her quite considerably.”


Spike had reached the top of the stairs and thrown the garbage bags onto the growing pile outside when with a tearful catch in her voice Anya said, “Than… Thank you for explaining everything so clearly, Rupert. I understand now. When Xander would go dashing off or drag me with him to answer one of Buffy’s calls and I asked him why we always had to put our own lives second to Buffy’s needs, he always just said ‘because it’s Buffy’. That never made sense to me and when I asked him to explain he wouldn’t. He either said my name that impatient way that made me feel bad or… or he started shouting again…”


Peeking through the half-open door to the office, Spike could see the Watcher holding the attractive demon close and heard him murmuring unintelligible comforting sounds into her hair as she wept into his shirt. With a smug grin he made the decision not to intrude and had started to creep silently back down for the next load when he heard Buffy and Xander emerging from the basement.


“It shouldn’t be too hard, Buff. Of course before we do anything you’ll have to get permission from the owners, and you’ll have to pay Tito for the plumbing work, but I can do all the rest. I’m afraid you’ll have to spring for the materials but I can get those at cost…”


Xander was fast approaching the bottom of the stairs and Spike shot an amused glance over his shoulder at the tell-tale shadows thrown against the office window blinds. He longed to see the look on the young man’s face when he discovered Giles and Anya in a clinch but after a moment’s thought he decided that the demon had already had enough upset from that direction and deserved a break, so he started making a deliberate noise as he clattered down the last few steps to give the affectionate pair due warning of an imminent interruption.


“Oh! Spike! Xander says he can convert that basement room into a proper changing room, treatment room and bathroom for us, with a massage table and everything! Isn’t that wonderful? That means we can rip out that ooky bathroom up in the office area to make more space for storing weapons…” Buffy turned to regard the concrete floor that now had an area of crash mats creating a small bright blue puddle in the centre and thoughtfully commented, “We’re gonna need a lot more mats though...” She ran an assessing hand down one of the angular metal pillars supporting the gallery, “…and something to cushion these…” She shrugged apologetically as she spread her arms out to encompass the size of the building. “I’d forgotten how utterly ginormous this place is…”

****

Dawn was walking backwards in front of them as they strolled along, hand in hand. Belying the amount of energy she had to have expended in all her scampering around the warehouse, she bounced along rather like an excitable puppy being taken out for walkies for the first time.


“This is so cool…” For a few moments she twirled the stake she held, then made a disgusted noise when it spun out of control flipped out of her hand and flew into the gutter. Moments later she had retrieved it and was back, grinning excitedly. “How many vampires do you think we’re gonna find, huh? Do you think I’m gonna get to stake one myself?” She struck an unlikely pose and thrust the stake out into mid-air, awkwardly miming staking a vampire.


“No!” Both blondes were emphatic about that.


“But…” The Key took in their surroundings and pouted. “We’re not really patrolling, are we? You totally lied to me. We’re not heading for a cemetery at all, we’re just walking home! Buffy! You said I could come on patrol with you!”


Buffy shook her head in amusement. “Patrolling doesn’t just mean trawling through the cemeteries, Dawnie. Vamps can be lurking anywhere in this town. Walking around after dark anywhere is patrolling.”


“But last time you let me come with you we went through the cemeteries… even though we never found anything.”


Buffy and Spike exchanged a look. Buffy hesitantly began, “Uh… about that, Dawnie…”


Dawn’s eyes went wide in realisation. “Oh God! You totally cheated, didn’t you? You only let me come because you knew we wouldn’t find anything of the evil ‘cos Spike went on ahead of us and cleared everything out of our way!” She glared accusingly at the vampire who couldn’t meet her eyes.


Buffy wasn’t the slightest bit apologetic. “My first priority is to keep you safe, Dawnie. You’re not with us so you can stake vampires, you’re with us so we can make sure you don’t have to.”


The pout was turning into a whine. “But I really thought… Now we know I’m hard to kill I thought you’d let me help more! That’s why I’ve been going to self-defence! So I can help!”


“You’ve been going to self-defence to learn how to defend yourself in case you’re attacked because you’re the Key, Dawnie, not so you can Slay vampires.” A neatly plucked eyebrow went up. “As I remember it, the most effective way to kill you is to drain your blood. And what is it exactly that vamps will want to do to you, Dawnie? Can you remember?”


“Oh very funny, Buffy. Look, this is me laughing. Ha ha.” Dawn scowled at her sister, turned around and stomped off in a sulk.


When she got about thirty yards ahead Spike called to her, “That’s far enough, pidge. Don’t get any further away from us than that.”


Flipping her hair back over her shoulder Dawn muttered, “Yeah, right. ‘Cos we wouldn’t want the poor little helpless Key to escape her constant surveillance…”


Spike nudged Buffy with his shoulder. “You tell her, Slayer.”


Rolling her eyes, Buffy raised her voice slightly, “It’s just… we don’t want you to have to fight before you’re ready, Dawn.” She had an idea and realised, “You can help us though…”


“How?” Dawn wheeled around and crossed her arms over her chest, demanding petulantly, “If I’m not going to be allowed to fight how am I supposed to help the great and glorious MasterSlayer and her SuperVamp sidekick save the day? Huh? Tell me that!”


“Hey! Not a sidekick!” Spike protested defensively.


Buffy patted him reassuringly on the arm. “Of course you aren’t honey. You’re my partner. You know this.” Suddenly doubtful about how Dawn would receive her suggestion, she hesitantly explained, “Well… when I first arrived in Sunnydale… That is when Will and Xander and the others started to help… Cordelia would…”


“Oh God. You want me to be the bait.” Dawn concluded in disgust. “I’m the Cordelia Chase replacement.”


“Well… um… yeah? The vamps that have been around town more than a few weeks all know who Spike and I are now. If we hang back in the shadows and stay out of sight they could be lured out by the sight of an apparently vulnerable little girl…”


“God! I’m not a little girl, Buffy! I’m taller than you now!”


Sensing his mate’s growing irritation Spike intervened. “Oh stop moaning, bit. Yes, we know you’re not a little girl, you’re a lovely young woman. Now… all this bloody yelling is defeating the purpose. Vamp hearing, remember? They can pick us up two blocks away. Just pretend you’re walking home alone and we’ll take care of the rest.” He made a shooing gesture to get her moving again.


Dawn heaved a dramatic sigh and conceded, grunting, “Fine. Whatever.” And flounced off to undertake her despised mission.


After a few moments Buffy hissed, “Dawn?” When her sister looked back to see what she wanted the Slayer warned her, “Don’t get scared if you can’t see us all the time. We’ll be keeping you in sight every second and nothing is going to touch you, okay? Just walk along as if you hadn’t got a care in the world and… and act baity.”

****

Slayer and vampire crouched on the roof of Decker’s hardware store watching Dawn crossing at the intersection. So far they had taken it in turns to dispose of five vampires as they emerged from basements or alleys to approach the lone teenager, thinking they’d found a convenient snack. Dawn had walked steadily along, oblivious of the recurring dramas taking place just a few feet away from her.


His eyes constantly in motion as he analysed every shadow and possible hiding place for threats to his charge, Spike whispered, “You do know the easiest way to keep her safe is to teach her to fight offensively as well as defensively, don’t you, Slayer?”


Buffy sighed. “I know. It’s just…”


“Now the chip’s gone I can work with her if you think…”


“I just didn’t want her to get into the fight. She deserves…”


“If you say she should have a ‘normal life’, I’m gonna…” He swallowed the threat, not knowing what he would do. “You know full well that’s never going to happen. More to the point, she doesn’t bloody want it. She made that clear months ago. She knows precisely who and what she is, that’s why she’s so determined to get involved.” He crept to the corner of the roof then silently leapt the intervening gap onto the neighbouring, slightly lower building and swung himself easily down to flit across the road unnoticed and around the corner so he could keep Dawn in sight.


A few seconds later, Buffy caught up to him and joined him as he sprang up the side wall of the baker’s shop to continue tracking the bait in their little hunt. The next time they paused she reluctantly admitted, “I know… you’re right. I’ll talk to her and see what we can come up with.” When Spike directed a triumphant little smirk her way she rolled her eyes and teased, “Make the most of it, Daddy bear, you won’t hear it very often.”


Growling in mock offense at the new nickname, Spike dropped to the ground to check the last stretch of commercial buildings before the transition to residential streets just in time to see a group of four vampires come out of the rear door of a derelict shop and amble along the service alley discussing where they were going to go to find their lunch, then make a beeline for Dawn as she passed into view.


As he got set to dart forward to take them on Buffy laid a hand on his shoulder, breathing into his ear, “My turn, I think.”


Spike grunted in disappointment, reluctantly acknowledging that she was right as he’d dealt with the last undead menace they’d encountered while she had continued shadowing their Key-shaped bait. He leant against the corner of the building and lit a cigarette, preparing to enjoy the show as the Slayer went into action in the alley while simultaneously keeping one eye on Dawn’s progress along the deserted street.


From Spike’s perspective the battle was decidedly disappointing. He always relished watching his Slayer fighting, but the spectacle was so much more exhilarating when she faced opponents who posed some sort of challenge and stretched her abilities.


These vampires were either newly turned or new in town, possibly both. Not only did they not realise they were facing a Slayer and so totally misjudged the threat she posed them, but instead of using their superior numbers to their advantage and working together, they constantly got in each other’s way and hampered the only one who had any fighting skills at all. This meant that he was the first to meet his end on the point of the Slayer’s stake after landing only a single blow to the side of her head that didn’t phase her in the slightest.


The sudden disintegration of their companion distracted the other three so badly that they totally disregarded the continuing risk to their own existence and started squabbling amongst themselves about whose fault it was that ‘poor Kelvin’ was dust. This meant it only took Buffy a few moments to neatly dispose of them.


She pouted at her vampire as she tucked her stake away. “Meh. That was a total anticlimax.”


Waggling his eyebrows suggestively Spike admitted, “Yeah, was looking forward to watching a good… stimulating… fight.”


Buffy smirked and casually swatted him on the chest. “Pig.” She peeked around the corner of the building to check on Dawn’s progress and noted that her sister was now several hundred yards away. “Come on… we’re not done yet.” With Spike on her tail she slipped silently along the street.


By the time they’d traversed the first residential block it became clear that they were unlikely to encounter any more demonic activity so at the next intersection Buffy and Spike paused to take stock of the evening’s events.


“That was fun, wasn’t it Slayer? More like a real hunt than a boring old patrol. The Bit made good bait. What would you say to making it a regular thing?”


Buffy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. I think we drew a load more vamps out of the woodwork this way. I’ll see what Dawnie has to say and if she agrees...” The remainder of her sentence was smothered by a kiss that threatened to turn into much more until Buffy had to break away to breathe and had the presence of mind to gasp, “No… Dawn…”


She pressed her palms against the familiar hard muscled torso and pushed back slightly, sniffing at herself. She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Plus… I desperately need a shower. I really wanna get rid of this rank eau de warehouse.” They reluctantly broke apart and after one more quick kiss and a murmured, “See you later… be good…” Buffy trotted off to catch up with her sister and keep her company for the last few blocks to Revello Drive while Spike headed towards Restfield and the familiar crypt muttering sulkily to himself, “Be good, she says. Daft bint can’t get it through her head I’m still eevil.”

******

With his hand poised to knock on Giles’ front door, Spike paused when he registered that although there were the two expected heartbeats close by, only one of them came from indoors. The other came from around the side of the little house, in the bushes. He cocked his head on one side as he concentrated.


Yes, the heartbeat inside was strong and slow and familiar as the Watcher at rest but the other wasn’t Anya’s rapid demonic ‘pitty-pat’. It was human and the rate indicated either fear or excitement. He raised his head and scented the air then rolled his eyes.


As he completed the motion of knocking he called out, “Come on out, Harris. What the Hell are you doing skulking in the Watcher’s garden at this time of night?”


“Shhh!” Xander hissed as the foliage shook and he peeked through a gap. “I don’t want Anya to know I’m here!” He whined, “I just needed to see her.”


As Giles opened his front door Spike chuckled. “Then you’re out of luck, mate. She’s not here.” He turned to the bewildered Watcher. “Got a Peeping Tom in your shrubbery, Rupert.”


Giles leant out of his doorway to see what was going on. “Xander? Is that you again? Dear Lord! I thought you’d given up this pathetic pastime. You know Anya will be furious if she finds out you’re hanging about outside her bedroom window again!”


“She wasn’t supposed to know… Spike said she’s not here but I saw her come in with you and she hasn’t gone out…”


“She popped out about half an hour ago. It seemed someone ‘called’ her and she got changed and left at once.” He took his glasses off and gave them a quick polish as he shook his head in frustration. “I expect I’ll get used to her sudden appearances and disappearances eventually…”


Xander’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “So she really is back on the vengeance gig. I’d thought…”


“I have her word that she won’t cause any human deaths and will keep the maiming and disfigurement to a minimum.” A little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “It seems her self-imposed restrictions are forcing her to be incredibly innovative in her methods and she’s quite thrilled by the challenge.”


“What we gonna do with this idiot stalker then, Rupert?” Spike asked with a sly smirk.


Giles shrugged. “What I usually do, I suppose. Why don’t you come in for a mug of cocoa, Xander?” He suddenly seemed to realise that it was Spike who had knocked on his door and asked, “Was there something you wanted, Spike?”


“Ah. Yeah. Got a slight problem, Rupert. The bloody DVD player at the crypt is knackered.” He held up the Blackadder box. “Don’t suppose we could impose upon your hospitality to watch an episode or two?”


Giles looked over the leather clad vampire’s shoulder at the ‘we’ and for the first time noticed Nathan standing back in the shadows as Spike continued, “Dunno when the new furniture’s gonna arrive with our new telly and the rest. They’ve told Buffy they won’t deliver the stuff they’ve got in stock until the sofas come in, something to do with a discounted bulk delivery charge. They’ve promised next week without fail but until then…” He raised an eyebrow, produced a long rectangular box from the depths of one of his duster pockets and held it up adding hopefully, “I come bearing Jaffa cakes…”


Although Spike caught a definite spark of interest in the Watcher’s eyes, Giles frowned. “I did tell you, Spike…” He gestured at Nathan. “I have no intention…”


“Oh go on, Watcher.” Spike wheedled. “You can always do a disinvite when we’ve gone if you still fear for your precious hide. I’m determined to educate the lad with some classic humour and he just ain’t gettin’ it yet.” He sensed he was losing his argument and murmured over his shoulder, “Show the gaffer your offering, lad.”


Nathan stepped forward into the light streaming from the open door and held up a bottle. “Uh... Master Spike said you might enjoy this, Mr Giles. It’s from The Master’s hidden cache...”


“Good Lord! Is that…? Well I never! Get in here man…” He turned to go back indoors and muttered, “I’ll just find us some glasses…”


Spike grinned smugly when the Watcher immediately issued the required invitation and followed Nathan up the steps into the doorway. Not hearing Xander following, he turned and asked, “You coming in then, Harris? Got a bottle of the good stuff here… although by the smell of you you’ve likely already had enough for one night.”


“What good stuff?” Xander asked in astonishment. “What could be so irresistible that Giles asked a soulless vampire in without a second thought?”


“Fifteen year old Laphroaig single malt, lad. The genuine article.”


“Huh?”


Spike rolled his eyes at the young American’s ignorance. “A bloody good Scotch, you dozy git! Now, are you coming in or not?”


Xander hesitated then shook his head in resignation. “I don’t think so. If I’m here when Anya gets back she’s gonna be mad at me again…” He heaved a mournful sigh and added, “If only she’d come back to me I know I could do better…”


Spike’s eyebrows went up. “Yeah, right. And of course trailing after her like some stinking drunken overweight whiny stalker’s bound to convince the girl to give you a second chance. Good plan, mate.” He sniggered. “Take it from one who knows, Harris. Stalking never works.” He brushed a finger over his nose and fondly reminisced, “If I was lucky, all I got was another broken nose. But then that’s the Slayer for you. My girl expresses her displeasure with her fists.” He then used the same finger to prod the young man’s chest. “But with Anyanka being a vengeance demon again? Wonder what method she’d favour?” He smirked wickedly and cocked his head to one side as he asked, “Have you ever noticed how many of her favourite stories feature entrails?” He nodded knowingly. “Girl has a definite thing for entrails…” He shook his head sadly. “Just asking for trouble…”


“Xander’s face became paler and paler as Spike spoke, his eyes widening comically. “Uh... I never thought of that...” He started backing down the path. “Perhaps I’ll just get home and see how Willow’s doing…” He paused at the kerb and stammered anxiously, “Uh... you wont tell… that is… please, Spike, don’t say anything…”


Spike gave an evil chuckle, “Oh… the temptation…” Seeing the young man start to panic he reluctantly agreed, “Oh, go on then. She won’t find out from me. Mind you, if you keep this game up you know she’s gonna catch you eventually.”


As the young man disappeared into the night Spike impulsively called after him, “Tell me you got a stake handy, Harris?”


A voice came from the corner, “Yeah, got two actually and a spray bottle of Holy water. Uh, Spike? Thanks for... y’know…”


Spike closed the front door behind him and accepted the glass the Watcher was holding out for him. “Xander not coming in?”


“Nah, lad’s bolted.” Spike sniggered, “I reminded him that as a vengeance demon your delightful room-mate might do Bad Things to a Peeping Tom of a night stalker.”


Giles tried to look disapproving but after a moment he grinned mischievously, “I wish I’d thought of that approach. He’s been hanging around the poor girl ever since she broke up with him and he just doesn’t seem to understand that he’s not helping his case with his obsessive behaviour. The reverse, in fact. She really does get quite upset with him.”


Spike took a mouthful of smooth smokiness and waved his hand dismissively, “Pfft. Forget the pillock. There’s fun times to be had tonight…”


Giles leant back in his favourite chair, put his feet up on the coffee table, sipped his drink and hummed with pleasure, then bit into a Jaffa cake. Through the crumbs he asked, “So where are you up to then? Which episode are we watching tonight?”


Spike settled down on the comfy couch and told him, “‘Head’. You know, the one when he’s the Lord High Executioner.”


Giles chortled, “Ah yes. ‘Ointment. That's what you need when your head's been cut off.’ Excellent…”


As the familiar theme music began to play Spike adopted a high pitched travesty of a feminine voice and contributed, “‘That's what I gave your sister Mary when they done her.’”

The two Englishmen shared a conspiratorial grin and continued chuckling as the American vampire looked between them in utter bewilderment.


TBC


A/N:
Spike’s comment about ‘The Great Harry’ refers to Harry Ramsden, the founder of the biggest fish & chip shop brand in the world. His first outlet opened in1928 in Guiseley, Yorkshire, about 8 miles SW of the famous Spa town of Harrogate.