Part I
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Disclaimer: Joss owns the
world, all within it and everyone in this story.
Timeline: Season 4. A little
AU that stretches between Something Blue and Doomed.
Rating: NC-17
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“Why does he have to come
with me?” asked Buffy, looking cross.
“Because I am tired of having him
constantly under my feet, eating like a pig and watching appalling television. It’s like having a teenage son. One who spilt blood
on my couch!” Giles threw a look of unabashed distaste
at the vampire and couch in question. Then trained his gaze
upon his argumentative charge.
“So you’re sending him out to annoy me instead? No
fair!”
“Perhaps if he gets some exercise he’ll be less –
tiresome.”
“Couldn’t I put a lead on him and take him for a
walk?”
“Hey!” came a roar, from the
direction of Spike’s chair. “I am here you know. And no one asked me if I
wanted to go!”
“That is because nobody cares,” Giles explained
simply. “If you want to stay here you can bloody well earn your keep!”
Spike scowled. “Fine. Whatever you
say. I’ll tag along and piss off Goldilocks for a while. You can drag a
vamp to the cemetery but you can’t make him slay.” The scowl was replaced by
the serene expression of one who has managed to successfully annoy everyone
within a small room.
Buffy stamped her foot. “Giles!”
“Let’s get this clear,” said Xander,
moving closer to Spike. “You are going to help.” A stake materialised from
nowhere. “Do you see my – point?”
“I’m not going if he is!” declared Spike, rolling his
eyes in disgust.
Giles sighed. “Some days I wish I’d skipped the
pretence and just got a job in a kindergarten,” he said to no one in
particular.
“I know how to make him help,” offered
“No more bloody spells!” Spike growled. He and Buffy
caught each other’s eyes, before turning hastily away.
“No, much easier. House
privileges! If he’s good and helps, then he can watch TV and roam wild and
free. If not, then it’s back in the bathtub for you, mister!”
“She’s really evil!” said Spike, half-impressed.
“Oh alright,” grumbled Buffy. “But if he gets in my
way, he gets dusted. If he argues with me, he gets dusted. If he talks at all,
he gets dusted.”
“And if I take to my heels and run a mile from you wankers as soon as I’m out that door?” he demanded.
“Many tears will be shed,” said Giles, with a distinct
lack of sincerity.
“We’ll sweep up your dusty remains when the commandos
get you,” said Xander, still waving the stake in
front of Spike’s face. “Wait, no we won’t.”
“You’re not bringing them back here!” said Giles,
emphatically.
“Stop talking about my death!” ordered Spike. “Fine,
I’ll go. Get out of this museum! I’ll go kill stuff. And I’m going to be
looking for blonde haired demons,” he pointed at Buffy, “or ones with stupid
British accents,” he pointed at Giles. “And if I find any I’m going to beat’em to a bloody pulp before I dance on their graves!”
“And there’s a dream I’ve always shared,” said Xander, looking at Spike significantly.
“This should be a whole new level of fun,” groaned
Buffy. “If I got paid, I should get paid more for this!”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Giles with
feeling
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” she said,
shaking her head at her Watcher. “If I have
to take him then I’m bringing the gang. I can’t spend a whole evening with….him!”
“Scared, pet?” Spike sneered.
She laughed brightly. “Oh yeah!
You used to be slightly more scary than Giles in
research mode. Now you rate below….Xander!”
“Hey!” said Spike, Giles and Xander
in offended unison
*******
“Why does it take four of us
to do your job, Slayer? Whatever happened to ‘One girl to kill the vampires?’
You must be the first to need half an army for backup!”
“I don’t need them!” retorted Buffy, trying to
maintain her concentration while he threw insults her way. Which
was hard, because most of her energy seemed to go into ignoring him. Unsuccessfully. She noticed the glances exchanged by
She glared at Spike, the cause of all trouble.
“You sure ‘bout that? And now the watcher seems to
think you need me as well.”
“I do not *need* *you*,” she emphasised. “He needs a
break from you. And - shut up.”
“Oooh, you’re scarin’ me, love!”
In the midst of their
bickering, they failed to notice the vampire that approached them and jumped
“This is too easy for me; I could do with a real fight,” he said, aggravatingly.
“But I’m startin’ to see why you could do with the
help.”
“I do not need help!” stated Buffy, enunciating
clearly. Ignoring the smirk. “You’re just distracting
me.”
“A bad workman blames his tools,” said Spike, rather
mystifyingly. The others gave him odd looks.
“Okay then, Tool-of-the-Slayer,” said Xander challengingly, “Why don’t you patrol and we’ll go home?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to make sure the world
doesn’t end?” Buffy reminded them. “So how about this?
I patrol, Spike shuts up. Any problems?”
“This is the sacred duty you make such a bleeding fuss
about?” scoffed Spike. “I could do your job with one hand tied behind my
back!”
“How about both hands tied behind that tree?”
challenged Buffy, patience wearing thin. She fingered a stake lovingly. Would anyone really blame her?
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said
suggestively, leering at her.
“Can I kill him, Buff?” asked Xander
hopefully, pulling out a stake. Spike backed away warily, hands in front of his
chest. Xander took a threatening step forward and
Spike dodged, putting Buffy between himself and the boy. The two circled Buffy
for some moments, as she watched with growing irritation.
“Enough already!” she finally groaned. “Xander, stop it. If anyone gets to kill him it’s going to
be me. And I’m supposed to be
patrolling, not babysitting!”
Wow, she thought. I’m
turning into Giles.
Xander looked hurt. “Fine. We get
the picture. Don’t want to get in the way of the Chosen One and the Big Bland!”
Throwing a final, murderous look at the vampire, he stalked off, with
“Looks like your friends didn’t want to stick around,”
said Spike, unhelpfully. “Just as well you’ve got me, pet.”
“Any chance you want to go somewhere, anywhere that’s
not here? I could collect you when I’m finished?” she asked in warning tones.
“I want to fight too, you know,” he replied
stubbornly. “Been cooped up for days. Anyway, what’s
the matter? You afraid of a little competition?”
“Hello? Slayer! God, could you be any more arrogant?”
“How about a little – wager – then?” he spoke slowly,
a gleam in his eye.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“I bet I can kill more demons than you.”
She looked at him disbelievingly.
“Don’t think I can? Then you won’t mind if I set the
stakes…..no pun!”
“What do you want if you can slay more vamps than the
vampire slayer?” she asked, smiling sarcastically. Ready to humour him now if
only it meant getting the job done here and depositing him back at Giles’
without the need for a dustbuster.
“I want you to – ah – service me.” She looked at him
blankly. He sighed and nodded in the direction of his nether regions. She
punched him in the face.
“Because you know you’ll lose,” he nodded with mock
sympathy while rubbing his jaw.
“I will not….fine.”
She shook her head dismissively. Shaking away memories of weddings planned and
kisses stolen and…. “What do I get when I win?” She looked thoughtful. “I could
kill you, but hey, I can do that anyway. It should be more fun than that.” She
smiled suddenly, her voice dropping to a purr. “You’re going to be our slave, Spikey.”
“You already have me shackled in the bathtub, what
more do you want?”
“You’re going to be grateful for the hospitality. You
will clean and cook - and not poison anyone! You’ll wear an apron. You will be
polite to Giles. And me! Get the picture? And you’ll clean your stupid blood
out of the couch!”
“Nothing gets blood out,” he grumbled. “Okay, deal.
I’m one up already, you know. I did save your friend while you were too busy
prattling to see what’s right in front of your face.”
What was right in front of her face was the most
annoying vampire she had ever met, that she wasn’t allowed to kill and that was
making revolting, disgusting suggestions that she hadn’t even smashed his nose
in for.
“Whatever,” she said cuttingly. “You’ll need it. This
ends at
“And you can’t kill me when you’re losing!” he
taunted, dancing lightly on the balls of his feet, full of wiry, unsprung energy.
“I suppose so.” She checked her watch and found
herself hitting the ground. Spike, who had thrown her aside, was valiantly
ignoring the obvious pain in his head and was laying into a young and naïve
looking vampire with fists and fangs.
Vampire turned to dust.
Spike turned to
Buffy, looking smug.
“That would be two to me. Buffy’s giving me a
blowjob!” he sang.
She punched him in the face, hard.
“Hey! Cheat!” He scowled, nursing the blow.
“Me? You knocked me to the ground to get that
vampire!” she retorted, still angry.
“Saved your life, you mean?” he asked, wondering how
much he could rile her before he got killed. “Just because you didn’t even….”
She took off before he could continue. He ran after
her, seeing her destination of a group of three vampires. By the time he had
reached her, there were no vampires. Buffy’s anger had vanished along with
then, replaced by smug self-assurance.
“You’re going to look cute in an apron,” she told him,
patronisingly. “And Giles will be so impressed!”
“It’s not over yet, bitch,” he growled. “There should
be a nest over behind the mausoleum, see who’s winning after that!”
“And you were planning to tell me about this when?” She
glared from the vampire to said mausoleum.
“Just ten seconds ago there. And I thought it was very
sporting of me. I just don’t want you complaining when you lose. You can moan
if you want,” he said, a glint in his eye.
She had already begun to sprint in the direction he
had indicated. This time he caught her easily. Could be she wants to lose, he considered. As he reached level with her, she turned sharply and kicked his
legs from under him, sending him spinning to the ground.
No, doesn’t
want to lose, he thought dimly
through the pain. He cursed her
furiously as she vanished from sight.
She rounded the corner too fast, skidding to an
unplanned halt and began to wish she hadn’t been in such a hurry. What seemed
like a dozen vampires stared at her in surprise. Sometimes stealthy is good, she reminded herself with a sigh. Two
attacked her at once, one getting kicked ten feet in the air, the other finding
himself on the pointy end of a stake.
Four, she calculated mentally. She found herself surrounded by a circle of five tough and burly,
rather pissed-off vampires. Two more ran at her and she knocked their heads
together. That won’t make them any deader, she berated
herself, aware of a flurry of blonde activity not far off.
And an irritating English accent yelling “That’s four
for me, bitch!” She tried to ignore him and concentrate on the job in hand.
Something heavy hit her back, almost knocking her over. She reacted
instinctively, turning with stake in hand. She met a cloud of dust.
“You threw a vampire at me? You moron!” she yelled at
Spike, who was shaking the pain from his head. “What do you think you’re
doing?”
“Handing you a victory it seems,” he muttered, the
pain abating. Stupid bloody government. How could they
have known he would ever want to throw vampires at people? He took his bad mood
out on the next unfortunate vamp to cross his path, beating him viciously
before killing him.
“Spike!” He turned at the shrill cry and saw Buffy pinned to
the ground, vampire at her neck.
“You sure you don’t want to get that one yourself, love?
Might put the numbers in my favour?” She made a strangled noise, which he
interpreted as a less than intimidating threat to his life.
“You persuaded me,” he said, throwing himself forward and staking the vampire without a struggle.
As it poofed, he landed on top of Buffy. Who didn’t
look happy.
“How dead did you want me to be before you helped?”
she demanded, not pushing him off.
“I thought I was saving your honour. And I was given
to understand that the Slayer could look after herself?”
She punched at him but he caught her hand and held it.
“How many did you slay?”
“How many did you?”
“Not over yet!” she shouted, hurling him off her and
jumping to her feet.
They fought side by side for the next ten minutes,
each keenly aware of the other’s every move. Kinda fun, thought Buffy. Being in full slay mode with a partner…in slaying. She hadn’t felt so hyped on
patrol in ages. Maybe since Faith. Yeah, that ended well, added the voice
of reason.
Adrenaline flowing, she staked the final vamp and
turned around. Want more. Well, there
was one. She smiled slowly and raised her stale. He looked at her cynically.
She ran at him, lowering her stake at the last minute and lunging at him with
her whole body.
He staggered backwards, wrapping his arms around her as
he fell and pulling her with him. They kissed furiously. So the fight-thing is an aphrodisiac, thought Buffy. Cause there has to be some excuse for
this. I’m kissing Spike.
“Spike! Stop it!” she gasped, pulling away.
“Why?”
“Cos….eeww!
This is revolting. Me and you?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, grabbing her by the waist and
pulling her back. “Sick and twisted.”
“And never gonna happen!”
she insisted. She pushed him away and jumped to her feet.
He caught her before she had fully collected herself.
With a hand on her shoulder he turned her around.
She glared at the confident smile and readied herself
to knock it off his face. And instead kissed him. Mmmmm.
“You ready to admit I won?”
he asked, finally breaking away.
She punched him in the face, then turned and fled.
“Better a willing kiss than an unwilling blowjob!” he
called, loudly enough for her to hear and not respond to.
“Bloody idiot!” he berated himself more quietly as he
watched her leave.
*******
“How did it work out? Did it go well?” asked Giles,
looking up from books.
“No!” said Buffy. “Oh yes!” said Spike simultaneously.
Giles looked at them more closely.
“Did you have a hard night?” he asked with concern,
noting their tattered clothes and the various marks and scratches across faces
and arms.
“No – yes. Tired. Going home,” said
Buffy, not meeting her Watcher’s eye.
He looked at Spike questioningly as she left.
“She’ll be okay,” he explained with a slight smile.
“She’ll come round. She and me just need a bit more
practice.”