Breaking a Slayer

Breaking a Slayer
Chapter 38

Buffy and Spike chattered like squirrels sometimes. At least, it seemed that way to Angel's pained ears. He welcomed it, actually. Buffy had become so taciturn lately she rivaled even him for sheer broodiness. It was good to hear her teasing Spike. Good to see her laughing with him, even if it meant that she wasn't laughing with Angel. And then she was…drawing him into her laughter with a gentle motion; a tilt of her head; a swkisskiss bestowed with a jump to his cheek, mimicked almost instantly by Spike; which drew yet more laughter from her. It rang joyously across the tiled bathroom and the vampires looked at each other with twin expressions of besotted love for their mate.

The three had bathed hastily once they awoke from their precipitous nap. They knew Giles would be there soon, yet there was no sense of dread, nor impending doom. Thacedaced the inevitable with calm assurance that they would weather it somehow. The bonds between them had solidified somehow in the sex (magic?) of their earlier encounter and they all felt the strength of the Marks that bound them into this triangle of unexpected power.

Buffy tried not to think about Giles's certain reaction to her mating with not one, but two vampires, let alone an avowedly evil vampire without a soul and a penchant for bleach and black nail polish. At least he'd stopped wearing the eye liner and lipstick, she thought with a rueful grin as she elbowed him aside to get to the mirror. Why he thought he needed to stand in front of the mirror to do his hair, sad nad no idea, it wasn't as if he could see himself in it anyway. Perhaps it was just that all of the brushes and hair stuff were there. His and Angel's had gradually encroached upon hers because her bathroom was the biggest and they'd ended up spending most nights in her bed anyway. Not that she minded, except now, when he was in her way, a. Sh. Shbowebowed him harder and he grunted.

"Oi, Slayer, watch it with those elbows!" he said, fiddling with his hair a bit more. "You need more flesh on those bones, Woman, feels like bein' jabbed by a bloody skeleton." She didn't understand why he mashed his hair down so. He had the cutest curls when he let it dry naturally and he smoothed it all out straight instead with that goopey gel. Blech. She'd have to work on that. Once they got back. If they came back. Nope, not thinking that way. They'd go, they'd do the spell, Angel would tie things up in LA and they'd come back. He'd told her so and she believed him. The fact that things never went as planned for either of them was…something she was just not thinking about. She'd add it to the list of things not to think about. The Buffy List of Things to Not Think About. Sort of like David Letterman. Except that she already had way more than 10 things on her list. Oh, well.

The vampires tensed suddenly and Buffy felt caution flow through their bond to her. A human was in the mansion. A human moving like a predator. They could all feel it. Buffy gave up doing anything with her mop of golden brown curls and stuffed them under her stocking cap instead, pointedly ignoring the look that passed between her mates as she did so.

They moved as one for the door, Spike glancing instinctively at Angel for permission before taking point. Buffy followed behind, slightly amused at the deadly grace with which her lovers approached the human who was almost certainly her watcher.

It was, indeed, Giles, and he started, momentarily taken aback as the two silent shapes loomed suddenly from the darkness upstairs to land lithely on either side of him. They straightened and he found himself staring into Spike's amber eyes before they shifted to their human hue of deepest blue. "Hallo, Rupes!" the vampire greeted him, in jolly good spirits for a dead man.

Giles rolled his eyt tht the blond vampire and said, "Will you please refrain from calling me that, Spike? Giles is fine and I suppose from one of your…age…Rupert is fine, too, but Rupes? I think not!"

"Rupert," Angel called quietly, and Giles turned, startled to find that the dark vampire was no longer at his side. He had moved so silently that the Watcher hadn't even noticed that he'd gone.

"Yes, Angel?" he inquired, wondering where the damned (and wasn’t that a bloody perfect adjective for the vampire?) man had got to this time.

"Would you care for some tea? I put a pot on to boil and it should be about ready."

Giles headed for the kitchen, followed by Spike, who didn't bother to cloak his movements in stealth, tromping along in unlaced Doc Martens like some high school bully boy. "Oh, that would be lovely, Angel, thank you."

"Earl Grey or Darjeeling?" Angel asked, holding a shining copper tea ball.

"Oh, Darjeeling, certainly. Thank you, ever so." Giles settled himself comfortably at the table and tried not to wonder what Buffy was doing.

Suddenly, she was there, perched before him on one of the stools. "Blast!" he swore, startled into dropping the glasses he'd been polishing. She was starting to move like one of them! She even looked like one of them, pale and drawn, almost no color to her still-gaunt cheeks. He could see every bone of her delicate face and her eyes looked huge and unusually compelling surrounded by so much white skin. He found himself drawn into them, searching their misty hazel-green depths for something crucial…something very important…

"Yo, Giles! Snap out of it! What's the what, Giles? Do I have something on my nose?" Buffy asked in annoyance, brushing at her face and completely unaware of the effect she'd had upon him.

Giles shook his head, disturbed and flustered by this turn of events. Were Buffy's unnatural ties to the master vampires affecting her Slayer powers in unexpected ways? Or was she, perish the thought, starting to…tuHe wHe would have to research it…goodness knows where he could start though…he started to drift off again considering whether there might be a paragraph or two in the Codex that he could start with…then drew himself back to the present with a start as Angel set a mug of piping hot tea with cream in front of him, complete with freshly baked scones and clotted cream.

"Mmm, thank you, Angel, this is delightful. I'm amazed that Buffy isn't, well, huge, living with you like this," Giles murmured around bites of delectable scone.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Giles," Buffy said sarcastically.

Spike moved behind her, stuffing an entire scone into his mouth with one movement and snaking his foot through a stool. He sat, legs splayed to press against Buffy's and she leaned back into him, completely comfortable in his casual embrace. He wrapped one long, slender arm around her waist and fed her with the other, offering bites bit by bit. Giles was extremely upset by the gentle interaction between them. It looked as if there was actual tenderness there on Spike's part. He touched her so gently, fed her with such…intimacy. And Buffy…Buffy practically glowed under his caresses, opening her mouth for each bite that he fed her with such innocent sensuality that Giles felt as if he'd strayed unexpectedly into a bedroom, not a kitchen.

He looked away and found Angel gazing at the two with a look of such desperate, jealous loneliness that he nearly wept for the dark vampire right then. For the first time, Giles realized what the extraordinary pain of a century of being unable to touch anyone must have done to the dark vampire. Not to mention his five centuries in hell. Certainly the pain on his face watching the two…lovers together was more than anyone outside their intimate circle should reasonably witness. Giles looked down into his tea and took off his glasses to polish them once more.

"Ah, ehm," he started. "It seems to me, that with your expedition to Los Angeles, the simplest solution would be for Buffy to move into my apartment for the time being. She can continue to patrol at night, but she will, of course, have more contact with people, beginning with Willow and Xander, and myself, of course. I would also prefer that you spend some time in the sun, Buffy, you are entirely too pale for a Californian…not that I would ever have believed I could say such a thing three years ago." AngeAngel nodded in agreement while Spike just drew Buffy closer against his chest, hugging her more like a cherished touchstone than a lover at that moment.

Buffy sat up straighter, pulling herself from Spike's embrace with a reluctance that sent shivers down Giles's spine. "No," she said quietly.

"I beg your pardon?" Giles asked in consternation.

"You can beg all you want, Giles, the answer stays no. This is my home now. This is where I live, where I train. I've lost one home already. I'm not leaving here. You know you'd hate having me in your apartment. It's way too small for the two of us. It's nice of you to offer, but my answer is no."

Giles spluttered helplessly. Of all the possible responses to his decision, he'd never even thought that Buffy might say no.

"Giles, really, thank you. I know that you're just trying to take care of me. I'll check in with you every night before I patrol and every day when I get up, I'll drop by and we can hang for a while, K? I'll have Willow and Xander over here to visit and hang out. I'll go out, sunbathe, go to the mall, whatever. But this is my home now. This is where *we* (she emphasized the we with a glance at Angel and Spike) live. I'm not leaving it. I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

Giles looked at her proudly. She was a truly amazing young woman. This summer had taken her to the depths of her own personal hell and yet, somehow, she'd come out of it stronger, proud of her own power and able to stand on her own. If he winced at her choice of companions, he couldn't help but concede that their effect on his Slayer had been nothing short of phenomenal. Now he needed to draw her back into the light again. That was to be his task, and one to which he set his mind and heart fully.

Angel gazed at his love with concern, dropping to kneel beside her. "Buffy, you know that I don't want to leave you," he began, gazing deep into her lovely eyes.

"Shush, Angel. I know. I can feel the hunger in you already and it's only been a day. You have thirteen more to go, love. It will be too hard for you if I'm here. Take Spike with you," she turned to press a gentle kiss to the angular jaw of the vampire pressed intimately against her. "He'll help you, even if it's only taking your mind off the hunger by driving you insane," she teased.

"Now go. I don't do well with goodbyes." She stood, pulling the large vampire with her. He hunched over her tiny body and pressed fervent kisses to her delicate face, kisses she returned with ardent love, clutching at him with her small, powerful hands as if she'd never let ho. To. Then she thrust him from her so hard he stumbled. "GO!" she said, not looking at him as he moved in a silent rush from the kitchen.

Buffy turned to Spike, gazing into his deep blue eyes beseechingly. "Please, William," she asked softly. "Please, Love, take care of him. Don't let him…" her voice trailed off into the sob that she wouldn't let Angel witness.

Spike stroked a gentle thumb over Buffy's cheekbone, wiping away the tear that glistened there. "None of that, you silly Bitch," he whispered in a voice so sweet that her heart nearly broke to hear it. "I'll take care of Peaches, always have done. Don'cha fash your pretty head bout it, Pet. Now, give us a kiss and we'll be off," he grinned at her.

She leaned forward to kiss him, but he swept her into his arms, plundering her mouth with a kiss so hot it would have scalded her had it not come from a mouth so cool. He kissed her until her knees felt weak and she gasped for breath, then kissed her a bit more, just for emphasis. At last, he set her gently on her feet, chucked her gently under her chin and tromped off in a swirl of black duster and boots. To To be continued...