Chapter 2.07
Tuesday, May 7th, 2002
"You sure?" Spike asked.
"Yeah. The point of this trip is that things
end up settled between us all. Your little Q & A session might
have him on hold for a bit, but I think I should talk to him one
on one before we leave. If I can make him understand how we feel,
he might be able to accept it."
"Back to the hotel it is then. No swimming for
Spike, yet."
Wes's flat wasn't far from the hotel and Buffy
could see it in the distance when Spike hung a sudden right down
an alley and then another at the other end taking them back the
way they had come. A few blocks further up he took another right
and pulled to a stop near where the alley came out onto the larger
road.
"Detour?" asked Buffy.
"Nope, Poof passed us back there. He's nearby
somewhere. Guess the Princess had another vision."
Spike popped the trunk and pulled an axe and
a crossbow from the bag. Throwing the crossbow to Buffy, who by
this time had joined him he headed for the corner of the block
at a jog. On the opposite side of a junction he saw Angel head
for one of the rooms on the upper level of a two-storey motel.
Dodging the traffic, the pair saw him enter one of the rooms and
close the door. As they neared the motel Spike slowed and moved
stealthily up the stairs.
"Pet, this isn't a vision thing. This is personal.
This is the guy that took the kid."
"So what do we do?"
"We make sure we're somewhere he won't see us
if he comes out, hope he's too distracted to sense us and hang
around until we're sure he's not going to do anything stupid like
kill the guy the kid calls Dad."
Spike made sure they were a couple of rooms along
from the room Angel had gone into and then gave Buffy a boost
so that she could climb onto the flat roof before climbing up
himself. The two cautiously moved along the roof until they were
above the correct room.
Almost as soon as they were in position the room
door opened and Angel paused in the doorway. At first Spike thought
his grandsire had sensed them but when the old man finished speaking
the vampire left. They waited until they saw him get in his car
and drive off toward the coast.
"Let's go," Buffy prompted.
"No rush, pet. Peaches hasn't gone back to the
hotel. Everybody that doesn't live there has probably done a bunk
for the night and if they're not vampires chances are they've
turned in. We could go back to the motel."
"And that would end with me speaking to Angel
when?"
Spike gave her a sultry smile. "Later? .Tomorrow?
.Sometime? .Maybe Never?" He stepped in and stroked her cheek
with his thumb, before he lowered his lips to meet hers. Their
touch was gentle, brushing lightly against hers and making her
lips tingle. When she didn't resist he increased the pressure
on her lips, their mouths opening simultaneously as if at some
subconscious signal. Their weapons slid unnoticed from their hands
to lie at their feet and Buffy's arms looped around his neck.
Spike's hand cupped the side of her face, his fingers tangled
in her hair. His other hand slid under her coat and pressed on
the small of her back to draw her toward him.
Buffy moaned into his mouth, the muffled sound
spurring the vampire's ardour further. His tongue extended into
her mouth slowly exploring and tasting her, memorising every sensation.
Reluctantly he pulled back to let her breathe. He looked down
into her hazel eyes, her pupils wide with desire.
"I love you, Buffy Summers and I want you, I'll
always want you, even if I get to be with you for seventy years
and your hair turns white and your face is lined and maybe things
get to be not quite so firm. All I'll need to do is look into
your eyes and you'll still be beautiful to me. Everything I fell
in love with is there in your eyes, your strength, your love,
your compassion. You're laughing at me."
"Sorry!" Buffy covered her mouth to stifle her
giggles. "It's really sweet. it's just I've got this picture of
this little white-haired lady, lying in a bed in an old folks
home with an oxygen mask and your perfect white butt bobbing up
and down."
The romantic mood was totally lost. "Hah! See
that's where you've got it totally wrong, see 'cause by the time
you're that old, pet, you're going to have to go on top. Otherwise
I might just end up pounding those brittle bones of yours into
powder. And as if I'd let anyone else take care of you. Old folks
home indeed. Only way I'd be screwin' you in an old folks home
was if I was tryin to upset Harris doin' it in his bed, providin'
he hadn't pissed in it first."
Buffy slapped his arm, now finding it even harder
to control her laughter. Spike pulled a cigarette from his pack
but paused just before he lit it, raising a finger to his lips.
Footsteps clattered up the metal stairway to the upper floor and
the couple recognised the woman they had rescued earlier in the
bar though now she wore a biker's jacket on top of the light coloured
top she'd worn earlier. She moved straight to the door directly
below them and before she could knock the door opened. The old
man took one last look around the room and then followed the woman
down the steps and around the corner toward the alley, coughing
and wheezing as if merely catching his breath was a hardship.
As soon as they rounded the corner, Spike lit
his neglected cigarette. "Now, see, if a woman like that can be
with a bloke like him, who says I can't be with you when you're
old and wrinkly?" Spike lodged his cigarette between his lips
and used both his hands to tickle her sides. In retaliation Buffy
pulled the cigarette from his lips holding it away behind her
back, which aside from keeping it out of his reach meant that
his chest rubbed against her taut breasts as he tried to get it
back.
It was Buffy who heard the footsteps this time.
Looking down she saw Angel's son running toward them at superhuman
speed, down the middle of the busy road.
"Two minutes too late," she said, her voice filled
with sorrow at his loss.
Stephen came running up the stairs, and less
than a second later they heard the room door slam open and the
boy's anguished cries, before he started back down the stairs
again.
Suddenly Spike swore and snatched the axe from
where it lay on the roof before dropping off the edge. He shouted
one word as she heard his boots thump a rapid tattoo to the far
end of the walkway.
"Blood!" Buffy grabbed the crossbow and made
for the stairs. She reached the edge of the roof just in time
to see Spike leap onto and off of the railing at the end of the
balcony nearest the alley in one motion. For a second she was
transfixed by the grace with which he moved, before she sped to
catch him up.
Spike was too late. The boy was there first,
already helping the woman to hold the old man. He strained to
hear a third heartbeat from the group but there was only the boy's
and the woman's.
Spike pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack
and readied the lighter as he listened to the woman's words, forced
out between her sobs.
"This didn't have to happen. Your father was
gonna leave. He just wanted to talk to Angelus."
Spike flicked open the lighter with a loud click,
letting the flame illuminate the planes of his face for a second
before he walked out of the shadows. He gave a slow hand-clap
the scene reminiscent of the first night he saw Buffy.
"They should put you up for an Oscar, pet. The
grief's very convincing considerin' you're probably the bitch
that killed him." Spike swaggered closer all the time. He was
close enough to see the wounds on the old man's neck as Buffy
came barrelling round the corner, stalling as she took in the
scene before her.
"Shut up, demon. Your kind has no right to even
speak about my father."
Spike continued, as if Stephen hadn't opened
his mouth. "Sloppy job on killin' him though. You were really
countin' on the kid never havin' seen a vampire bite before. A
killing wound would almost never just be two holes, a killing
wound would look a lot more like what I did to Angel tonight.
The one on Buffy's neck is just a love-bite but you can still
see the imprint of all my teeth."
He watched the kid's eyes travel from the bite
on Buffy's neck, to the puncture marks on the old man's body.
Buffy moved closer angling her neck so the mark was plain to see.
"I got a little bit carried away, but it's still
a lot less messy than you would get from a bite made during an
attack because she wasn't struggling. The only time you'll see
a two-hole bite is when a vamp is co-operating with someone who
wants an unobtrusive wound. Like the whores who'll bite people
who get off on it for money and are prepared to make the feeding
last a long time. Even then you wouldn't see what you've got there.
The holes should be perpendicular to his collar not parallel to
it. See where the fang marks are on Buffy's neck and how they
relate to how a vamp would tilt his head to bite."
By now Buffy was almost level with the group
and Spike walked round behind her and leant over her shoulder,
mouth wide, to cover the scars as a demonstration.
"It's physiologically impossible to bite at an
angle that would give you marks like those. And they're too far
apart and too small a diameter."
Spike moved round to Buffy's side again and drew
deeply on his cigarette.
"Now I reckon, since the kid's biological parents
were both fairly bright even if his mother did have one of the
most irritating voices on the planet, that the kid has been following
my argument. Besides Angel was in his car and gone a good five
minutes before you showed your face and walked down here with
the old man. I thought you were some old girlfriend come back
to look after him. Maybe you were. See I think, maybe, this wasn't
so much murder as euthanasia. I think the time he spent in that
place ruined his health so badly that the old guy was strugglin'
for every last breath he took. And if that's the story
then maybe killing him was the kindest thing you could do, if
he'd already seen a doctor and there was no way it could be treated.
What I don't get is how you can take two
of the people who saved your life earlier tonight and try
to screw up both their lives. That's a pretty fucked-up way of
showin' gratitude. You're one screwed up bitch. I suggest you
find yourself a good shrink. Angelus hasn't existed for a hundred
years, give or take one brief reappearance, and we know you weren't
around then. Angel, the vampire with a soul, may look similar
if you take off the leather pants and add a vest, but he's not.
He has a conscience and he generally follows it. He doesn't feed
from humans and he loves the kid, just the same as if he were
a human father. Maybe more because he never thought he could have
one.
You keep saying Angelus did it, so whatever grudge
you've been harbouring must be a damn sight older than you, and
you don't look Romany to me so I doubt it's been passed down from
generation to generation. Believe me Angel's paid twice over for
all the things he did, first when he got the soul, and then when
he went to hell for half a millennia. If the Powers That Be thought
he's been punished enough, and sent him back to atone by working
for them, I think it's a bit arrogant for you to try to make things
work out different."
Spike threw his cigarette butt to the ground
and stepped on it twisting his foot to put it out. He turned his
gaze to the youth.
"Kid, in a way, Angelus was a second father
to me, and I hated the bastard with a fiery passion. Angel
isn't the same person and he loves you. Give him a chance. If
you still end up hating him after a couple of years, then leave
and do your own thing, but get to know him first, not the stories
you've been told about what he was like two hundred years ago.
We're goin' back to the Hyperion once we've had
a cup of coffee. If you want a lift or you want a hand with your
dad's body we'll be back in ten minutes once you've had a chance
to think things through."
Spike paused long enough to drop off their weapons
in the trunk of the nearby DeSoto before leading Buffy off down
the street in the direction of a nearby coffee-shop. Spike stayed
silent until he was sure he was well beyond normal hearing range
for a vamp.
"Was he listening, do you think? Or does he still
think it was him?"
"I think he listened, Quincy. He's probably come
to the conclusion that we stabbed him with a screwdriver
rather than getting the right culprit, but I think you convinced
him it wasn't Angel."
"Yeah, well, not a word about this to the Poof.
Right? Unless you want to tell him that I told the kid I hated
him."
"I won't say anything unless he specifically
asks, but I think unless Stephen's struck dumb chances are he
will."
The pair managed to catch the coffee-shop just
before it closed and dallied on the way back to give the teenager
ample time to consider their offer.
Wednesday, May 8th, 2002
Wednesday Early hours of
the morning
"Gimme a bell when you want pickin' up, if it's
before sun-up. If not get yourself a taxi." Spike shoved some
notes into her hand. "There should be enough there, an' assumin'
you want to go shoppin' tomorrow you'd best book us another day
at the motel."
"You're not coming in?"
"No point. Get yourself in there and do whatever
it is you think you have to and I'll be waitin' when you're done.
Me an' him said everythin' we've got to say to each other years
ago." She knew that he hated this. That however much had happened
between them, part of him still expected her to turn to Angel.
"Not even a message."
"Nah, Wait, yeah. Tell 'im I said that he can't
expect the kid to kill people for their clothes. He's goin' to
have to put his hand in his pocket for once and give the cheerleader
some dosh to take him shoppin'."
"Is that a subtle dig?"
"Is it? Dunno, pet. I wasn't tryin' for subtle."
"An', pet. Don't let him make you feel guilty
about him not havin' anyone. The cheerleader's goin' to work out
why it took her so long to notice her Prince Charmin' was missin'
before too long."
"You what? Angel and Cordelia?" Buffy snorted.
"Yeah, that's gonna happen."
"Already has, pet, just the beauty queen can't
see it yet."
"You're serious. I mean, I can see Cordelia falling
for Angel, but please."
"Ooh, is that wounded pride I sense. He was supposed
to content himself with your memory for the rest of his life.
Couldn't you sense it? Bint's grown up, found her place, her calling.
She might need to sue her hairdresser but she's turned into a
hell of a woman. According to our green friend, grand-papa has
it bad as she has. Now go or it'll be sunrise before you get in
there."
Buffy stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of
them wore a watch but Buffy doubted despite the events of the
night if it was much past midnight. She brought a hand up to his
face, her fingers following that scarred eyebrow and leant across
to give him a long tender kiss.
"Don't go too far. I might want to leave in a
hurry." Her hand trailed down his face, over his shoulder, down
over his arm until finally their fingertips locked together briefly
before she got out of the car.
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