|Marching Us All to Our Graves
Author: Arina Summer PM
Buffy is 26 years old, living the life in NYC. Until a work injury has her being shipped off to live with her mother and sister in Sunnydale. Buffy's leave would be boring had she not been moving to a Hellmouth where her sister, Dawn, was the Slayer.Rated: Fiction M - English - Drama/Romance - Buffy S. & Spike - Chapters: 7 - Words: 15,211 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 17 - Follows: 23 - Updated: 02-08-12 - Published: 01-15-12 - id: 7743413
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: So, this marks the 3/5 point of this story. I wrote it with this inspiration: if Buffy wasn't the Slayer but had some of those qualities, if she'd never met Angel or grown up (partially) in Sunnydale, if she'd been older, what would happen? And that's how this story was formed. The intention was it being a spuffy get-together fic with everyday happenings in between. This story is about 25 000 words long. I have the workings of a sequel in the early stages of an outline (I've two other unrelated Spike/Buffy stories in the works that are closer to being finished) – and that one has a significant plot beyond the pairing getting together.
That said, there is a Big Bad to this fic, it will appear soon, has already appeared, in fact, but may not have been noticed. I hope that I don't disappoint those who've taken the time to tell me how they enjoy this story and can't express enough how grateful I am for all the nice words.
And thank you to spike_1790 for being a wonderful beta. I promise that this will be the only long note - with a possible exception for the epilogue. Warnings for this chapter in the end note.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This is for fun, not profit.
Oz is really gone," Willow cried, clutching a pillow.
Dawn moved from her spot on the bed over to Willow's side. "We knew that already, Wills," the Slayer told her gently.
Willow sniffed. "B-but he took all of his stuff! I guess he doesn't plan on coming back."
Dawn smiled sympathetically. "Maybe not right now. But hey, it's better that he learns to control the wolf before something bad happens, right?"
"Something bad did happen. Veruca," Willow sneered. "And now Giles is all mad at me," she finished miserably.
Dawn stifled a sigh. She'd had this conversation before with Willow and it had gotten them both nowhere. "Giles isn't mad at you. He's just anxious to get Spike out of his bathtub." The Slayer frowned.
That bleached pest had been a thorn in her side for over a week now. Somehow, he'd managed to string out what he knew and prolong his stay in Giles' apartment. Dawn didn't know what had gotten into him — it wasn't like she was going to stake a defenseless creature. Okay, at first, she so would have but that was beside the point.
But why would he want to stay? He wasn't comfortable, no, he made everyone aware of that. Not to mention, Spike got on everyone's nerves — except Buffy, who said she found him entertaining, whatever that meant.
So not going there, Dawn thought.
Willow ignored her friend's attempt at consolation. "I mean, I'm going through something. I just don't see why he was getting down on me."
Dawn looked away and rolled her eyes. "Again, he wants a truth spell done, you forgot to help — with good reason!" she added as Willow's mouth opened indignantly. "So he's anxious to deal with Spike. Who isn't?"
Willow pouted relentlessly, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. "I'm a bad witch. I didn't have the guts to do the spell on Veruca, and my 'I Will it So' spell went nowhere. The only real witch here is fuzzy little Amy."
Dawn brushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to Willow's face. "You're being too hard on yourself," she assured her.
The ring of the telephone cut off any reply that Willow had. Dawn picked it up, frowning into the receiver.
"Hello?" a pause as the person on the other line spoke. "I'll be right there," Dawn said into the phone. She hung up, slamming the phone onto its cradle. "Spike escaped," she said apologetically, looking up at Willow.
Willow jumped off her bed. "And you're going? Now?" Life just wasn't fair. Everyone kept leaving her, first Oz, now Dawn.
"Sorry," Dawn waved her hand in the air. "It's a duty thing." She began searching her half of the room, shucking on her jean jacket while looking for her bag.
Willow crossed her arms. "Well, I mean, what's the rush? Spike can't hurt anyone, right? And I figured since I'm kinda grieve-y, we could, you know, have a girl's night?" she suggested, her expression hopeful. "We could eat sundaes and watch Steel Magnolias and you can tell me how at least I don't have diabetes."
Dawn smiled at her best friend, really wishing she could stay. Another reason to hate Spike. "I'm sorry, Will. You know I can't. I can't hang out with you until I get Spike back to Giles, you know that. I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."
Dawn opened the door, grabbing her bag as she went past the witch. Walking out, she pulled at the doorknob, causing the door to slowly swing closed.
Willow pouted. This wasn't fair. "I don't see what's the big deal. He's probably just standing out there. You could find him in, like, two seconds," she complained, talking to the closed door.
Willow's eyes flashed.
Mom was out on a date. Not that I had a problem with it — it did, after all, leave me home alone. But it also deeply underlined the fact that I, a girl half her age, was dateless and lusting after a man over a hundred years old, that shouldn't even biologically exist.
I went from room to room, spending a good half hour — not at once, of course — staring at the open refrigerator, trying to decide what to have for dinner. I settled for popcorn. There was nothing good on television and I wasn't in the mood for crime dramas — I'd had a lifetime of that from work.
Xander was caught up in the novelty of dating Anya while Dawn was dealing with Willow's break-up with Oz. It meant that there weren't going to be any group trips the Bronze and I didn't feel like going alone. I could somewhat hold my liquor but was intent on not becoming someone who drank because they were bored.
That left dancing as the only option in the club. I'd tried it a few times but it seemed that every time I did, I never stayed alone for long. There must be something in the water in Sunnydale because every man I met was wholly unattractive.
But not the vampires.
I rolled my eyes. Unbidden thoughts like that had popped into my mind all week. Since Thanksgiving, Spike and I had shared more than a few steamy kisses. The first few, his hands had been untied and god, the things that they could do. I blushed at the thought.
And then there were the days that he was confined to the bathtub. I could feel myself become all buttery and throbbing just from the memory alone. There hadn't been any sex and there definitely hadn't featured any nudity, no, I hadn't let it go that far. But the kissing and heavy petting had me desperately wanting more. As I lolled on the couch, I let myself enjoy the rush of memories that begged to be relived.
Spike pulled me on top of him, my legs falling over the lip of the tub as I joined him at the bottom. This was what I got for feeding the hungry vampire who wasn't hungry for food. Giles had left for a grocery run and I'd been left with Spike-sitting duty and a sympathetic look from the Watcher. If he or any of the Scoobies ever found out about how much I actually hoped for these opportunities, I'd surely never be left alone.
But I'd caught on quick. I drunk horrendous amounts of tea, left boxes of Weetabix just within Spike's reach, and experienced a few extra cases of the dropsies that left Giles' fridge nice and bare.
Spike approved of my antics, if his hands slipping under my bra to cup my breasts were any indication.
"Perfect," Spike muttered, as if completely perplexed by his words. I supposed it made sense; we'd been hot and heavy for a week, neither of us taking much time to consider how wrong the pull between us was. Though, it hadn't just been this that we'd done all week. Most days, the Scoobies had been within sight or constantly coming over. It allowed time for the precursory getting-to-know-you stage to progress with just a little — okay, make that a lot — flirting on the side.
His hands pulled away from my chest and I whimpered in complaint. Spike's eyes found mine. "The way you move, the way you feel," a hand brushed back my loose hair and ran up my neck. I shuddered. "Bloody perfect," Spike finished before pulling my head down to his.
My own hands roamed down his clothed chest, stopping to tease the hemline of his shirt. Spike groaned into my mouth. With the hand that wasn't holding my head, keeping our lips together, Spike began to explore the expanse of my back. I was really thanking myself for forgetting to do the laundry, it having left me with nothing but a tank top to wear.
Spike's hand roved down my spine, dipping lower to give my behind a squeeze, before sliding up and under my sweatpants — the less than thrilling addition to my lack of clean clothes situation. His fingers traced the lines of my thong, dipping far too low to be appropriate before tugging at the flimsy material.
"Spike!" I hissed, breaking our kiss. Light danced behind his eyes. I rolled my own and sat up, straddling his thighs with my legs. Still, that didn't deter him, his hand going further down. I slapped it away before his hand could get any farther.
Spike pouted and I had the strong urge to giggle. "Thought we were 'aving fun," he protested.
I leant down to peck his lips. "We were," I said simply.
"Then why'd you stop, love?" His hands had begun moving again, crawling up my thighs before stopping to trace patterns on my exposed hips.
I bit back a moan. "I stopped 'cause you were about to do something bad."
Spike arched a brow at me. "I know for a fact that that was goin' to make you feel bloody good."
I smiled. "Maybe," I admitted. "But it would be bad to do it in Giles' bathtub." I made sure that my voice was stern, only, a slow smile crept along Spike's face and I knew that I hadn't pulled it off very well.
"Mmm," Spike agreed. "That would be somethin'." His fingers pulled at the waist of my sweats, its elastic snapping back into place once he released it.
Spike smirked, "I guess 'm just bad, baby."
I chuckled quietly, dipping my head down as my hand crept up to cup the side of his face. We kissed at a slow, languorous pace before Spike pulled back, allowing me to breathe. "The worst," I murmured against his lips.
I shook myself out of the memory. The point was that I refused to let Spike take it further while he was Giles' captive, even though his sneaky hands had managed to get under my clothes more than once.
But that posed the question of how to free him? I wasn't quite sure how to get him out of Giles' place. Spike would have to give up information about the commandos and he seemed reluctant to share the info. I'd tried to reason with him but Spike would just smile at me and tell me he had his reasons to stay, whatever that meant.
My popcorn meal hadn't lasted long and I was back to being bored. I'd even tried cleaning, but all the dust in the house that I knew had been there had apparently become animate and life preserving, and had decided to hide.
"That's it," I muttered as I threw down the much too clean dusting cloth. "This house is against me."
I brushed the hair out of my eyes, sighing as I did. I needed to get out of here, make some friends, get a life. I'd only called Alex twelve times this week, he had patience but not that much. I couldn't go back to work, I'd gotten bored with television, and I wasn't that much of a casual reader.
The only two people I felt truly comfortable with were Spike and Giles. Spike for the obvious reasons. Giles because he treated me like an equal, an adult that, like him, was stuck in a situation that he didn't necessarily like but loved too much to give up. He'd been using his old family money to fund his rather tame lifestyle but was so obviously bored without a job to clock into in the mornings.
With that in mind, I justified walking over to his apartment. That, and because Spike was there and kissing him had become my new favorite hobby.
I grabbed my purse and let myself out, making sure to lock the front door — I seemed to be the only one who did.
I had a pretty good chance of finding Spike and Giles alone, too. Dawn being the Slayer meant that she was the only one who'd want to pop in. But if she managed to have free time from a moping Willow, she'd probably try to spend it with Riley — the new guy she'd set her eyes on.
I walked quickly, my arms crossing, trying to warm me up from the uncharacteristically cooler night. I didn't mean to sound bitter about Dawn, hopefully it was only in my head that I came across that way. It was a mix of wishing that I could have the simple fortune of having such a social life and general big sister protectiveness. Dawn had gushed about Riley to me the same way she had enthused about Parker and cooed about Angel. Riley sounded like the perfect man and I just didn't want to burst her bubble. I hadn't met him yet — according to Dawn, I was good at looking scary when faced with someone of whom I disapproved. I didn't know where she got that from, she'd never seen me shoot anybody, and certainly had never introduced me to one of her boyfriends before.
Smiling despite it all — I was just happy that I was about to do some regular, adult-type socializing — I walked up Giles' front walk, grabbing the doorknob and swinging open the door.
"Hey Giles!" I called happily as I turned and shut the door behind me. Another person that didn't lock their door. "I figured since the kids were away, we'd take the time to play — or, you know, catalogue your demonology books. But whatever, anything works for-"
It was when I turned back around and tossed down my purse that I finally registered what my eyes were seeing. It was then that my glasshouse finally shattered.
Dawn pulled away from Spike, their lips smacking as they parted. My baby sister cuddled into the lap of the man I had finally begun to admit I was falling for.
"Buffy!" Dawn squealed, throwing an arm around Spike's shoulders — his own arms were tightly wrapped around her waist. "I'm so glad you came by! Spike and I have something to tell you!" she paused for about half a second. "We're getting married!"
Be kind, rewind.
I felt like I was about to be sick. "You're what?" I rasped, losing my voice in shock. But Dawn didn't answer me, too busy being lost in Spike's gaze.
"What're you lookin' at?" my vampire murmured.
"The man I love," Dawn said, all lovey dovey. The pair — I refused to call them a couple — dove right back into the lip lock I'd interrupted. I was definitely going to be sick.
"I- what?" I didn't have the words. My eyes were lying to me. There was no way that Dawn would do this to me.
But how would she know…? An awful voice whispered in my mind. I wanted to kill that voice.
Spike tore away from the kiss. He looked at me with dark eyes, eyes that only thinking about an hour ago would have made me shudder in passion. Now they just made me shake in horror. Those eyes weren't for me, I didn't cause them to smoulder like they did.
"Know we had a connection, pet," Spike told me, still holding my baby sister tight against him. He sounded apologetic. I didn't appreciate it. "But I didn' know what it was," he looked at Dawn, "you were the closest I could get to the woman I loved, didn't mean to use you, didn't rightly know I was. But…just look at her. How could I not fall in love with her?"
It surprised me, this hurt more than being shot.
"Oh, Spike," Dawn cooed. She brushed her hand across his cheek and he nuzzled it. They were soon involved in a heated kiss that turned my stomach. I had really eaten too much popcorn.
Everything felt numb. "I…have to go," I told them but they had already forgotten about me.
The front closed with a bang and I all but ran out of the courtyard.
Back in the flat, Giles popped his head out of the washroom. He'd run out of eye drops, though he suspected they'd not have much effect. He was rather quiet blind.
"Who was at the door?" he asked the humming pair that was snogging on his recliner.
"Buffy," Dawn answered, the reply coming from the black abyss in front of him.
"Broke the news to her, Rupes. She took it as well as to be expected."
"Quite," Giles muttered, somewhat disgusted as the smacking sound increased, and lurched for his side table and the bottle of scotch he knew rested there. He hit the table's leg and promptly fell over.