Fic: As Long As You Both Shall Live (Green Card verse)
Title As Long As You Both Shall Live
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Spike/Buffy
Rating R, mostly for some graphic bloody fantasy imagery
Words 3000
A/N More from the Green Card verse, following on from From This Day, Forward.
Nobody was thrilled about Willow and Xander being the first into danger. But there it was. Tech before firepower, there not being much point in having the Big Fighty Diversion if there was nothing to divert from.
So they were out in the Initiative looking for secure datapoints to mess with. And Buffy, Spike and Giles continued to sit in what Buffy would have considered to be a broom closet in an organisation less military than the Initiative.
Did the military need broom closets? Odd thought.
Xander's mind indicated a positive on the closet question. Military guy says Yes.
This was very, very weird.
Doing the enjoining spell had been weird enough. Helping Willow with the magicks always made Buffy feel itchy, in a not-good way. Linking psyches with the others, all holding candles and sitting in a pentagram (say this for the military: their closets were roomy)… very strange stuff.
Now, she could half-see herself sitting in this closet, through Giles's eyes and through Spike's. A stereo vision, with Giles watching her burning candle and compulsively rechecking her weaponry, and Spike looking at her boobs in this strappy top. Which, joyously, she assumed was an image everyone else could share. And now she'd had that thought, she was getting confirmatory messages from all sides. Eeeuw.
Fight soon please?
Weird to feel Xander reaching out for thoughts that others could provide; taking some tactical stuff from her, some observation from Spike (who seemed to have most humans classified by footwear-noise, which was interesting and disturbing all at once), some expertise from Giles about what obscure room labels were most likely to be good for makeshift weaponry… Weird too, to feel Willow totally focussed on her own thing, barely aware of the four others in her mind, except to cull a little data from Spike to add likelihood to his fake profile.
…And they were done with the code push. Time for the big messy diversion to take hold. Operation Kill All The Demons was a go.
A week of fleeing and planning, and this felt much better. Willow serially opening ranks of cages, and the evil and dead flooding out to meet a Slayerly death. She had an axe, and many stakes, and it was almost too easy.
"Shooting fish in a barrel," Spike shouted, sounding grumpy.
"Sharks, perhaps?" panted Giles in return, almost losing an arm to a big pointy demon tooth as he struggled to reload a crossbow. "With machetes?"
Not completely easy pickings, Buffy was glad to find. She'd been a little worried that having nothing but drugged, caged victims would feel gross. But no. Big evil demons, plenty of vampires (swing-pooooff-yay for the good old days), better gone than become demon soldiers, and fighting hard. Even some neat little tag team work by some of them that hinted what the demon army might become if their derailing plans failed. On the flip side, some of the demons were eating each other, which was cutting down the good guys' workload.
They'd talked over victim numbers. Not easy - they needed plenty to survive, for Willow's program glitches to show up later. But bigger, noisier, more expensive demonstrations of demon-killing-fu probably better as their cover. They had to look like people who seriously thought they could kill 450 demons in one raid.
Which was going to be easier now Xander had found the flamethrower. Now that was disturbing, and he was having way too much fun in Buffy's mind. But it pretty effectively protected him, and Willow, from any escaping demons heading their way. Plus, also good against army guys. Their target hundred-plus dead demons was looking do-able.
Mind melding was pretty cool, and all, but after a half hour steady killing, Buffy seriously wanted to see her friends again through her actual eyeballs. She still had Giles's back, but she'd lost Spike a while ago, and they still hadn't connected back with Willow and Xander.
Her focus was fading. Demon mush underfoot. Gross between her toes, and distracting. Giles definitely tiring now, he should think about moving out. Also, she was pretty sure the enjoining spell was fading. No one else felt so immediate in her brain anymore.
Could they get back to their favourite emergency exit? Surely that weak spot had been fixed by now. Have to try for one of the main entrance/exit points, which would be harder.
She tried to find Spike, couldn't spot him but found his mind, looking for Willow and Xander just as she was. Worried they'd met a couple of demons he'd seen slipping off their way and hadn't managed to catch up to. And then - good. Spotted the redhead at the far end of the hallway. Looking tired too.
Definitely time to start making their move out. Buffy could fight plenty longer than this, but their point was made. Now all they had to do was to look convincing in the fake scaredy runaway.
Except, they didn't have to fake it, because a unit of Initiative soldiers, with actual guns, finally turned into their corner. Willow's comms blackout spell must have faded too, enough for them to regroup properly. Time to run.
But they weren't near any exit Buffy knew of. Cut off. Crap.
Okay, plan B was solid gold. But Buffy really, really didn't want to be captured by the Initiative, even if it would be a media gift. She wanted to run. Get her people out of there, no major injuries, no chipped vampires getting mind-wiped… Really wished they'd had a backup plan which went another way.
Except the (now she looked, extremely familiar) approaching squad leader opened a side door, and gestured her towards it. "Go! Go now. You don't want to get caught in here. Turn left, second right, keep running and you get to the service exit."
Riley Finn. You're my hero.
Giles went ahead of her, both frantically telegraphing to the others to come, come now, there's an exit, we're safe.
But Willow and Xander were on the wrong side of some escaped demons, comm links were back in operation across the Initiative, and more soldiers were filling the space now. So, and Buffy could feel the moment when Spike chose to do it, he left the others behind and ran to safety with her.
*
On the outside, they found welcome peaceful chaos at the Initiative's entrance. Also the Winnebago, so nobody had to go up in flames. Giles had to sacrifice his jacket to get Spike that far, but once they'd delivered the smoking, swearing vampire into safety, they were good.
The Wicca group were marching, in fact that mob must be considerably more than the Wicca group. Tara's supplementary plan was looking rather good right now. At least fifty angry women with banners marched under a confusion of signs. "Animals Are Our Brothers." "We March For Liberty." "Secret Army? No Thanks!" There was even a local TV crew. No one was carrying a sign for "Army of Demons? Not Sure That's A Terribly Good Idea!" A shame.
But among the marchers was Sheila Rosenberg, which was going to be useful when they got her in front of a camera to support Willow's "animal rights activism" and demand her freedom. Or else her fair trial. A very forthright woman, from what Giles could remember.
He was more than a little tired after such a brisk fight. Had probably slayed more demons today than in the past year, which just went to show how bloody misguided the Initiative were. The place was a powder-keg, just waiting for some evil genius to make use of it. Giles rather wondered, in fact, how it had ever got funding in the first place. There was scope to hope that the Initiative had exceeded the original brief, surely, in which case this publicity might kill the whole operation. That would be good. The idea of an Initiative cropping up again elsewhere in a few years was something they hadn't been able to plan away.
A problem for another day. Somewhere in Giles's brain, the magic words nice cup of tea and a sit down were triggered. The Winnebago seemed the likeliest source of both, though he was almost certain it wasn't furnished with a teapot.
Opening the door, Giles was assailed by such a waft of smoke that he seriously expected to find Spike as a mere pile of ash inside. But no. The vampire was chain-smoking, viciously puffing at his foul high-tar cigarettes at the tiny galley table. Looking at nothing in particular, and doing so with vicious animosity.
"Spike? Is something wrong?"
Good Lord. Sentences one never expected to hear oneself say.
"No. Nothing wrong, Rupert. 'M not a hero. Never pretended to be. Save yourself and sod the others, 's practically a vampire's motto."
Good Lord squared. Spike, with remorse for leaving comrades behind.
"I believe we agreed that it would be particularly unhelpful for you to be captured, given your susceptibility to the Initiative's programming. And we were all, including you, willing to undergo it if necessary. It wasn't necessary for us all on this occasion."
"I could have reached them. Much closer than you. Could have fought our way out."
"Against humans? I don't think so. It would have been impractical for you, and hardly necessary for the mission. You did the perfectly sensible thing."
"Bloody Finn did the brave thing, though."
Ah. Yes, that had been unexpected. Giles could see how it might sting. Young Finn had probably destroyed his career in that move. It did rather show up Spike on the heroism scale. Interesting that he felt it so strongly, though. As though he had wanted to appear to advantage. Presumably to Buffy, which was… unprecedented.
*
Anya's tearful face on network news: "Xander Harris is my boyfriend. Nobody else has the right to imprison him. Especially not for freeing some poor experimented-on animals from the army."
Interviewer: "The so-called HST Initiative Department suggest that several experimental subjects died during the stunt. Many rabbits, apparently."
Anya (with a visible struggle): "Well… that's just too bad. We needed to highlight these terrible abuses. I mean, what is the army secretly doing with rabbits? And we did that any damn way we could. Oh, also, they had people in there and were beating them up. That's bad, right?"
Camera pans to show Oz, still slightly bruised. He nods.
Interviewer: "Mr Osbourne. Can you tell us why you allege they held you captive?"
Oz: "No. I really can't explain that. But I know what happened to me. I was drugged, and beaten, and suffered electric shocks. I'd like to think that shouldn't be part of a government program. Maybe I'm naïve."
Interviewer: "If we can turn now to a man people are calling today's hero, the whistleblower, Riley Finn? Mr Finn, this sounds extraordinary. Can this story possibly be true?"
Riley, rueful and heroic: "Yes ma'am. I'm afraid so. I joined the Initiative two years ago, recruited by my professor-"
Interviewer: "That's Professor Walsh?"
Screen shows a headshot of Maggie Walsh, with Riley's voiceover describing his recruitment and training.
Cut to Riley: "And I knew it was wrong. But until today, I didn't fully understand how wrong. I couldn't stand by and let these people be imprisoned without charge. So I got them out. Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris are fine young people, and though we may feel that their actions were perhaps ill-judged, I think they deserve for any charges against them to be heard in open court."
Interviewer: "So far, it is believed that Harris and Rosenberg have been allowed to return home without any charges being brought. An unusual event, if we believe the official version, that some teen vandals who wrecked a major government facility should be released unpunished, even if their motives were principled. So, we ask ourselves, is this amazing story true? Was there a secret government facility here undertaking classified research on animal and human subjects? Subjects who were in some cases American citizens?"
Dramatic music. Heavy pause. Ad break.
*
Seemed like old times, he'd bet. The end of a big fight. Everyone a wee bit battered and dopey looking. Willow, Xander and Giles on the couch. Buffy in an armchair. TV on.
But not so much with the old times. They were upstairs at the Magic Box, in Buffy and Spike's apartment. So Spike was there, lounging on the arm of Buffy's chair, feeling like a fifth wheel but with nowhere particular else to go. And the apartment was a semi-wreck (bloody dangerous bits of wood all over the place), as the Initiative had obviously turned it over earlier in the week while they were hiding out. So rude, some secret government agencies. Though they seemed to have treated the infants okay, he was glad to note. Presumably Finn had put his noble self between them and persecution, or some such, till they were freed on embarrassed orders from above.
Also, the Scoobies were watching their friends and allies on TV, talking in code about the world they weren't allowed to speak of. The media coverage made no sense at all. Not a shock, considering they didn't know the half of the story and wouldn't have believed it if they did. Quite funny, actually, watching them frantically tread water. Bloody Finn not so amusing though. He'd done the right thing twice. Bloody hero types. Very much not Spike's style, but he was aware of feeling just a smidge envious of that upright citizen act.
Not very envious. Too tired for that. In fact, his eyes were closing.
He opened them to find Buffy smiling down at him.
"Come on, honey. Time to buy those curtains. Sun's right in your eyes."
Bright sunshine, not killing him at all, was spilling over their bed in a geographically-unlikely way. Their apartment was looking better than ever, nicer furniture, more lived in. Lots of photos, of them mostly, plus friends and relatives scattered all over. An empty cot.
Lovely place. He wanted to stay here, where it was safe. But those curtains wouldn't buy themselves.
Suburban shopping trip, should have scared the pants off him, but not with Buffy and their baby to care for. Family guy looks after his family.
Of course, Buffy's breast was bleeding as she fed the kid, its crawling dark mop of hair hiding the vicious teeth. And their station wagon felt as confining as ever, what with the killer in the backseat and the kid's mobile hanging from the rearview and the endless bloody soft rock music playing. So it wasn't too surprising when he lost his rag and stopped the car, leaned over and ripped open his wife's throat.
Tasted wonderful. Rich and fresh and lethal.
Till the killer in the backseat took a machete to his hands, of course. He looked down in dismay at his severed forearms, spurting arterial blood the way his wounds never did these days. Shooting the blood all over Buffy's face, adding to the gore from her neck wound, spilling down over the incubus baby in her arms.
He tried to wake up, to kill the pain in his arms, to stop the screaming. Didn't work, till the Slayer saved them all.
"Well, that was unrestful. Everyone else get killed in their sleep?" Willow was offensively perky, Spike thought. But the First Slayer Bitch had gone, which was enough for him. Forgetting that dream was his top priority for the day.
They spent the morning clearing apartment and shop of the worst of the wreckage. Barely used half this splintered furniture, Spike realised. Never would now. Buggering government wastefulness. Wouldn't see any compensation for it, either.
Eventually, he found he couldn't fidget with the fittings any further, and sat silent, waiting for Buffy to tell him it was time to get out and stay out.
She was sitting too, fiddling with a chipped mug.
Say it. Can't sit here forever.
"Um. We don’t have our paperwork yet."
"What?" It was unexpected, for sure.
"You're not official yet. And I read up on the penalties for fake marriages, and they're pretty scary. So would you mind if I didn't divorce you yet?" She still wasn't meeting his eyes. "I mean. Um. It doesn't make much difference to you, I guess? And it's a lot of lawyers and mess and stuff. So we maybe leave it for a while?"
He shrugged. "Fine by me, if it suits you. There's not a queue of Mrs-the-Bloody-the-next lining up, after all."
"Um. I asked you…" She went scarlet, from the throat up in one smooth wave of rising blood. "I asked you not to have sex with anyone else while we were married and that would be totally unreasonable now so I want you to know-"
"Unreasonable? Depends if you make it worth my while, don't it? I mean, not been wanting anyone else lately, have I?" Not the most gracious proposition, but he wasn't going to beg. Not for table scraps of Slayer sex.
Didn't need to. She was looking happy. "You still want? Because I…"
"Oh yeah. Just been getting on you started, love. Had this fantasy, all the time we were out in the desert, of you and me on a nice big bed with plenty of room to move and plenty of time to explore. Be a shame to waste all that good fantasising, wouldn't it?"
He loved the way she blushed and laughed and moved in for a kiss, like she wasn't going to let lingering shyness stop her.
Oh, and did I mention I'm falling in love with you? And that I can see I'm not good enough for you, no way, and everyone else can see that too? But also that the more I'm with you, the more I think it would be worth trying to be better? What the hell does that make me?
Didn't say any of that. Didn't ask for more commitment. Didn't expect anything but a few weeks more in her bed.
She wanted him to stay for now, and that was enough. For now.
It was a good start, her letting him stay. He was pretty sure she wouldn't be wanting to move home in a hurry. Not with the way kid sister'd been annoying her lately.
***
A/N Thank you for reading this far! As you can see, we're reached the end of the season arc which started this. There's now a Season Five arc too!
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Spike/Buffy
Rating R, mostly for some graphic bloody fantasy imagery
Words 3000
A/N More from the Green Card verse, following on from From This Day, Forward.
Nobody was thrilled about Willow and Xander being the first into danger. But there it was. Tech before firepower, there not being much point in having the Big Fighty Diversion if there was nothing to divert from.
So they were out in the Initiative looking for secure datapoints to mess with. And Buffy, Spike and Giles continued to sit in what Buffy would have considered to be a broom closet in an organisation less military than the Initiative.
Did the military need broom closets? Odd thought.
Xander's mind indicated a positive on the closet question. Military guy says Yes.
This was very, very weird.
Doing the enjoining spell had been weird enough. Helping Willow with the magicks always made Buffy feel itchy, in a not-good way. Linking psyches with the others, all holding candles and sitting in a pentagram (say this for the military: their closets were roomy)… very strange stuff.
Now, she could half-see herself sitting in this closet, through Giles's eyes and through Spike's. A stereo vision, with Giles watching her burning candle and compulsively rechecking her weaponry, and Spike looking at her boobs in this strappy top. Which, joyously, she assumed was an image everyone else could share. And now she'd had that thought, she was getting confirmatory messages from all sides. Eeeuw.
Fight soon please?
Weird to feel Xander reaching out for thoughts that others could provide; taking some tactical stuff from her, some observation from Spike (who seemed to have most humans classified by footwear-noise, which was interesting and disturbing all at once), some expertise from Giles about what obscure room labels were most likely to be good for makeshift weaponry… Weird too, to feel Willow totally focussed on her own thing, barely aware of the four others in her mind, except to cull a little data from Spike to add likelihood to his fake profile.
…And they were done with the code push. Time for the big messy diversion to take hold. Operation Kill All The Demons was a go.
A week of fleeing and planning, and this felt much better. Willow serially opening ranks of cages, and the evil and dead flooding out to meet a Slayerly death. She had an axe, and many stakes, and it was almost too easy.
"Shooting fish in a barrel," Spike shouted, sounding grumpy.
"Sharks, perhaps?" panted Giles in return, almost losing an arm to a big pointy demon tooth as he struggled to reload a crossbow. "With machetes?"
Not completely easy pickings, Buffy was glad to find. She'd been a little worried that having nothing but drugged, caged victims would feel gross. But no. Big evil demons, plenty of vampires (swing-pooooff-yay for the good old days), better gone than become demon soldiers, and fighting hard. Even some neat little tag team work by some of them that hinted what the demon army might become if their derailing plans failed. On the flip side, some of the demons were eating each other, which was cutting down the good guys' workload.
They'd talked over victim numbers. Not easy - they needed plenty to survive, for Willow's program glitches to show up later. But bigger, noisier, more expensive demonstrations of demon-killing-fu probably better as their cover. They had to look like people who seriously thought they could kill 450 demons in one raid.
Which was going to be easier now Xander had found the flamethrower. Now that was disturbing, and he was having way too much fun in Buffy's mind. But it pretty effectively protected him, and Willow, from any escaping demons heading their way. Plus, also good against army guys. Their target hundred-plus dead demons was looking do-able.
Mind melding was pretty cool, and all, but after a half hour steady killing, Buffy seriously wanted to see her friends again through her actual eyeballs. She still had Giles's back, but she'd lost Spike a while ago, and they still hadn't connected back with Willow and Xander.
Her focus was fading. Demon mush underfoot. Gross between her toes, and distracting. Giles definitely tiring now, he should think about moving out. Also, she was pretty sure the enjoining spell was fading. No one else felt so immediate in her brain anymore.
Could they get back to their favourite emergency exit? Surely that weak spot had been fixed by now. Have to try for one of the main entrance/exit points, which would be harder.
She tried to find Spike, couldn't spot him but found his mind, looking for Willow and Xander just as she was. Worried they'd met a couple of demons he'd seen slipping off their way and hadn't managed to catch up to. And then - good. Spotted the redhead at the far end of the hallway. Looking tired too.
Definitely time to start making their move out. Buffy could fight plenty longer than this, but their point was made. Now all they had to do was to look convincing in the fake scaredy runaway.
Except, they didn't have to fake it, because a unit of Initiative soldiers, with actual guns, finally turned into their corner. Willow's comms blackout spell must have faded too, enough for them to regroup properly. Time to run.
But they weren't near any exit Buffy knew of. Cut off. Crap.
Okay, plan B was solid gold. But Buffy really, really didn't want to be captured by the Initiative, even if it would be a media gift. She wanted to run. Get her people out of there, no major injuries, no chipped vampires getting mind-wiped… Really wished they'd had a backup plan which went another way.
Except the (now she looked, extremely familiar) approaching squad leader opened a side door, and gestured her towards it. "Go! Go now. You don't want to get caught in here. Turn left, second right, keep running and you get to the service exit."
Riley Finn. You're my hero.
Giles went ahead of her, both frantically telegraphing to the others to come, come now, there's an exit, we're safe.
But Willow and Xander were on the wrong side of some escaped demons, comm links were back in operation across the Initiative, and more soldiers were filling the space now. So, and Buffy could feel the moment when Spike chose to do it, he left the others behind and ran to safety with her.
*
On the outside, they found welcome peaceful chaos at the Initiative's entrance. Also the Winnebago, so nobody had to go up in flames. Giles had to sacrifice his jacket to get Spike that far, but once they'd delivered the smoking, swearing vampire into safety, they were good.
The Wicca group were marching, in fact that mob must be considerably more than the Wicca group. Tara's supplementary plan was looking rather good right now. At least fifty angry women with banners marched under a confusion of signs. "Animals Are Our Brothers." "We March For Liberty." "Secret Army? No Thanks!" There was even a local TV crew. No one was carrying a sign for "Army of Demons? Not Sure That's A Terribly Good Idea!" A shame.
But among the marchers was Sheila Rosenberg, which was going to be useful when they got her in front of a camera to support Willow's "animal rights activism" and demand her freedom. Or else her fair trial. A very forthright woman, from what Giles could remember.
He was more than a little tired after such a brisk fight. Had probably slayed more demons today than in the past year, which just went to show how bloody misguided the Initiative were. The place was a powder-keg, just waiting for some evil genius to make use of it. Giles rather wondered, in fact, how it had ever got funding in the first place. There was scope to hope that the Initiative had exceeded the original brief, surely, in which case this publicity might kill the whole operation. That would be good. The idea of an Initiative cropping up again elsewhere in a few years was something they hadn't been able to plan away.
A problem for another day. Somewhere in Giles's brain, the magic words nice cup of tea and a sit down were triggered. The Winnebago seemed the likeliest source of both, though he was almost certain it wasn't furnished with a teapot.
Opening the door, Giles was assailed by such a waft of smoke that he seriously expected to find Spike as a mere pile of ash inside. But no. The vampire was chain-smoking, viciously puffing at his foul high-tar cigarettes at the tiny galley table. Looking at nothing in particular, and doing so with vicious animosity.
"Spike? Is something wrong?"
Good Lord. Sentences one never expected to hear oneself say.
"No. Nothing wrong, Rupert. 'M not a hero. Never pretended to be. Save yourself and sod the others, 's practically a vampire's motto."
Good Lord squared. Spike, with remorse for leaving comrades behind.
"I believe we agreed that it would be particularly unhelpful for you to be captured, given your susceptibility to the Initiative's programming. And we were all, including you, willing to undergo it if necessary. It wasn't necessary for us all on this occasion."
"I could have reached them. Much closer than you. Could have fought our way out."
"Against humans? I don't think so. It would have been impractical for you, and hardly necessary for the mission. You did the perfectly sensible thing."
"Bloody Finn did the brave thing, though."
Ah. Yes, that had been unexpected. Giles could see how it might sting. Young Finn had probably destroyed his career in that move. It did rather show up Spike on the heroism scale. Interesting that he felt it so strongly, though. As though he had wanted to appear to advantage. Presumably to Buffy, which was… unprecedented.
*
Anya's tearful face on network news: "Xander Harris is my boyfriend. Nobody else has the right to imprison him. Especially not for freeing some poor experimented-on animals from the army."
Interviewer: "The so-called HST Initiative Department suggest that several experimental subjects died during the stunt. Many rabbits, apparently."
Anya (with a visible struggle): "Well… that's just too bad. We needed to highlight these terrible abuses. I mean, what is the army secretly doing with rabbits? And we did that any damn way we could. Oh, also, they had people in there and were beating them up. That's bad, right?"
Camera pans to show Oz, still slightly bruised. He nods.
Interviewer: "Mr Osbourne. Can you tell us why you allege they held you captive?"
Oz: "No. I really can't explain that. But I know what happened to me. I was drugged, and beaten, and suffered electric shocks. I'd like to think that shouldn't be part of a government program. Maybe I'm naïve."
Interviewer: "If we can turn now to a man people are calling today's hero, the whistleblower, Riley Finn? Mr Finn, this sounds extraordinary. Can this story possibly be true?"
Riley, rueful and heroic: "Yes ma'am. I'm afraid so. I joined the Initiative two years ago, recruited by my professor-"
Interviewer: "That's Professor Walsh?"
Screen shows a headshot of Maggie Walsh, with Riley's voiceover describing his recruitment and training.
Cut to Riley: "And I knew it was wrong. But until today, I didn't fully understand how wrong. I couldn't stand by and let these people be imprisoned without charge. So I got them out. Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris are fine young people, and though we may feel that their actions were perhaps ill-judged, I think they deserve for any charges against them to be heard in open court."
Interviewer: "So far, it is believed that Harris and Rosenberg have been allowed to return home without any charges being brought. An unusual event, if we believe the official version, that some teen vandals who wrecked a major government facility should be released unpunished, even if their motives were principled. So, we ask ourselves, is this amazing story true? Was there a secret government facility here undertaking classified research on animal and human subjects? Subjects who were in some cases American citizens?"
Dramatic music. Heavy pause. Ad break.
*
Seemed like old times, he'd bet. The end of a big fight. Everyone a wee bit battered and dopey looking. Willow, Xander and Giles on the couch. Buffy in an armchair. TV on.
But not so much with the old times. They were upstairs at the Magic Box, in Buffy and Spike's apartment. So Spike was there, lounging on the arm of Buffy's chair, feeling like a fifth wheel but with nowhere particular else to go. And the apartment was a semi-wreck (bloody dangerous bits of wood all over the place), as the Initiative had obviously turned it over earlier in the week while they were hiding out. So rude, some secret government agencies. Though they seemed to have treated the infants okay, he was glad to note. Presumably Finn had put his noble self between them and persecution, or some such, till they were freed on embarrassed orders from above.
Also, the Scoobies were watching their friends and allies on TV, talking in code about the world they weren't allowed to speak of. The media coverage made no sense at all. Not a shock, considering they didn't know the half of the story and wouldn't have believed it if they did. Quite funny, actually, watching them frantically tread water. Bloody Finn not so amusing though. He'd done the right thing twice. Bloody hero types. Very much not Spike's style, but he was aware of feeling just a smidge envious of that upright citizen act.
Not very envious. Too tired for that. In fact, his eyes were closing.
He opened them to find Buffy smiling down at him.
"Come on, honey. Time to buy those curtains. Sun's right in your eyes."
Bright sunshine, not killing him at all, was spilling over their bed in a geographically-unlikely way. Their apartment was looking better than ever, nicer furniture, more lived in. Lots of photos, of them mostly, plus friends and relatives scattered all over. An empty cot.
Lovely place. He wanted to stay here, where it was safe. But those curtains wouldn't buy themselves.
Suburban shopping trip, should have scared the pants off him, but not with Buffy and their baby to care for. Family guy looks after his family.
Of course, Buffy's breast was bleeding as she fed the kid, its crawling dark mop of hair hiding the vicious teeth. And their station wagon felt as confining as ever, what with the killer in the backseat and the kid's mobile hanging from the rearview and the endless bloody soft rock music playing. So it wasn't too surprising when he lost his rag and stopped the car, leaned over and ripped open his wife's throat.
Tasted wonderful. Rich and fresh and lethal.
Till the killer in the backseat took a machete to his hands, of course. He looked down in dismay at his severed forearms, spurting arterial blood the way his wounds never did these days. Shooting the blood all over Buffy's face, adding to the gore from her neck wound, spilling down over the incubus baby in her arms.
He tried to wake up, to kill the pain in his arms, to stop the screaming. Didn't work, till the Slayer saved them all.
"Well, that was unrestful. Everyone else get killed in their sleep?" Willow was offensively perky, Spike thought. But the First Slayer Bitch had gone, which was enough for him. Forgetting that dream was his top priority for the day.
They spent the morning clearing apartment and shop of the worst of the wreckage. Barely used half this splintered furniture, Spike realised. Never would now. Buggering government wastefulness. Wouldn't see any compensation for it, either.
Eventually, he found he couldn't fidget with the fittings any further, and sat silent, waiting for Buffy to tell him it was time to get out and stay out.
She was sitting too, fiddling with a chipped mug.
Say it. Can't sit here forever.
"Um. We don’t have our paperwork yet."
"What?" It was unexpected, for sure.
"You're not official yet. And I read up on the penalties for fake marriages, and they're pretty scary. So would you mind if I didn't divorce you yet?" She still wasn't meeting his eyes. "I mean. Um. It doesn't make much difference to you, I guess? And it's a lot of lawyers and mess and stuff. So we maybe leave it for a while?"
He shrugged. "Fine by me, if it suits you. There's not a queue of Mrs-the-Bloody-the-next lining up, after all."
"Um. I asked you…" She went scarlet, from the throat up in one smooth wave of rising blood. "I asked you not to have sex with anyone else while we were married and that would be totally unreasonable now so I want you to know-"
"Unreasonable? Depends if you make it worth my while, don't it? I mean, not been wanting anyone else lately, have I?" Not the most gracious proposition, but he wasn't going to beg. Not for table scraps of Slayer sex.
Didn't need to. She was looking happy. "You still want? Because I…"
"Oh yeah. Just been getting on you started, love. Had this fantasy, all the time we were out in the desert, of you and me on a nice big bed with plenty of room to move and plenty of time to explore. Be a shame to waste all that good fantasising, wouldn't it?"
He loved the way she blushed and laughed and moved in for a kiss, like she wasn't going to let lingering shyness stop her.
Oh, and did I mention I'm falling in love with you? And that I can see I'm not good enough for you, no way, and everyone else can see that too? But also that the more I'm with you, the more I think it would be worth trying to be better? What the hell does that make me?
Didn't say any of that. Didn't ask for more commitment. Didn't expect anything but a few weeks more in her bed.
She wanted him to stay for now, and that was enough. For now.
It was a good start, her letting him stay. He was pretty sure she wouldn't be wanting to move home in a hurry. Not with the way kid sister'd been annoying her lately.
***
A/N Thank you for reading this far! As you can see, we're reached the end of the season arc which started this. There's now a Season Five arc too!