My Immortal. Chapter 6.
So, this morning whilst painting the kitchen (as I might have mentioned, RL is busy) it occurred to me that the shippy name for Buffy/Jack would be Juffy. Or possibly Jaffy. This has made me chuckle ever since. Also I am happy because the sun is shining and I finished this chapter!!!!! It *hated* me. But it's done and it's here and I swear I'll write faster from now on, even if that means taking an extended hiatus. (Not that that would make much difference anyway, since I'm barely here as it is...) Anyway - Enjoy! And feedback is LOVE!
Previous parts here. And many thank you's to kathyh for the beta! *sends more cold remedies*
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 5100 words approx.
Chapter 6
Xander: Yeah, relationship debris is kind of piling up on the Buffy highway.
~
Buffy: I just... target the impossible ones... with deadly accuracy.
Holden: You think you do that on purpose? Maybe you're trying to protect yourself?
Buffy: Protecting myself? From heartbreak, misery, sexual violence, and possible death? Not so much.
Tuesday morning, 6th of April, predawn.
Captain Jack Harkness wasn’t a religious man - and yet, as he watched the sleeping woman in his bed, he had a sudden urge to offer his gratitude to someone. He guessed he could thank serendipity, but talking to a concept was a little too far, even for him.
He’d have to settle for spoiling Buffy in every way he knew... treat her like a princess, just like he’d promised. A somewhat wicked princess though, not a vapid Disney one. His body was still tingling from energy spent, from just trying to keep up - he felt as exhausted as after a long night of weevil catching.
Logically it had made sense to let her take charge, since he had figured that she was probably a natural leader in bed as well as outside of it - and also he wanted to see what her tastes were. So he had told her to set the pace; and then...
Reaching out he stroked her cheek, still somewhat overawed and shaken. Who had her previous lover(s) been? It had not taken him long to dismiss his list as wholly inadequate, as she had shown him that she knew exactly what she wanted from him - she was clearly not just trained for combat, but also for the rather different skills needed in the bedroom...
Being able to jump straight to improvisation - advanced improvisation even - was such a gift that he could barely begin to grasp it. Tantalising prospects were dancing at the back of his mind, delightful and somewhat distracting. Not that he minded those with only the most basic knowledge - he always relished the opportunity to widen their horizons, and enjoyed the surprises that inevitably met him as they found their own style - but in the circumstances Buffy’s proficiency was so lucky as to defy belief.
Getting to know her was like... like exploring the TARDIS for the first time, a new surprise around every corner. He smiled as he remembered that just when he’d thought that surely there couldn’t be more, he had stumbled across the Olympic sized swimming pool...
Of course then Rose had appeared a while later - only to disappear almost immediately, spluttering. This odd behaviour had been explained once he’d finished his swim, when the Doctor had sat him down for A Talk, the main gist of which being that Jack was not allowed to be naked anywhere onboard, except his own room - not even when swimming.
The irony of having had to live through more than a century of this attitude was not lost on him.
With a sigh he let the reminiscing go, and briefly wondered what Buffy’s attitude to nudity was. He had a suspicion that it fell very much in line with current views - which was good, actually, because it stopped her from being completely perfect, perfection being something he was rather wary of. And Buffy came dangerously close...
There were plenty of people that he’d wished he could have shown the wonders of the universe. But Buffy was one of the wonders herself. His very private wonder.
And not because she was funny and smart and beautiful and heroic and all the rest, although that added to it. But because he’d come back to life and seen in her eyes the one thing he never thought possible: recognition. He’d never imagined - never dared hope - that he’d ever meet someone who understood what it felt like to be forcibly dragged back into life. The pain, the confusion, the anger - it was not something it was possible to explain, and yet this woman - warrior woman, he corrected himself - knew what it was like.
The fact that she also shared his need to escape, to play pretend, and then revealed herself to be as versatile in the bedroom as a Swiss Army knife was just the icing on the proverbial cake.
Surely he could manage to stretch this job a bit longer than a month?
Sadly this thought reminded him that he needed to actually do some work... UNIT were getting impatient, demanding a ‘progress report’ - by which they clearly meant ‘how much useful stuff can you salvage?’
With a final soft kiss on his Slayer’s cheek, Jack got out of bed - wanting to curse the stupid spaceship, and yet knowing that without it, he would never have met Buffy. After pulling on a silk dressing gown he retrieved his Torchwood case from the office, and then sat himself down in a room adjacent to the bedroom - the door slightly ajar in case Buffy woke up. Although there were still quite a few hours until dawn, and he figured she was used to sleeping in after late nights.
Switching on the laptop he slowly began writing, now and again checking the notes he’d been jotting down. The ship was basic, but still had plenty of items that UNIT would be thrilled by - most of all the navigation system, whose star map had escaped unscathed.
The engines of course were a write-off, although he was rather worried by the fact that they’d blown up again. He’d have to have a good look at them later, to make sure they were definitely completely out of action before getting rid of them...
He also needed to call Torchwood - not that Suzie wasn’t scrupulous about her daily reports, but he needed to talk to Tosh. He had - with a rather monumental feeling of ‘why-on-earth-didn’t-I-think-of-that-before?’ - realised that all the equipment from the ship would be too radioactive for UNIT to study, except under the most carefully controlled circumstances. Which made the whole point of the exercise rather superfluous. Being short on resources (and time, to be honest), what he needed was some method or other of accelerating the gamma ray decay rate. He had a few ideas, and knew that if he only pointed Tosh in the right direction she’d work something out.
And UNIT would have just let that brain go to waste... his clever, bright, wonderful Tosh. He really ought to think about bringing presents back - they’d certainly deserve them.
For a moment he missed his Hub intensely. ‘His Hub’, he realised, his. It had always just been ‘the’ Hub, but there was a sense of ownership to it now. The darkness, the hum of technology all around, the ever-present threat of danger - it all felt much more ‘home’ than the beauty of the house he was currently in... as did the worry that made him read Suzie’s reports very carefully indeed, even if he tried his best to tell himself that Torchwood had always got along fine whether he was there or not. Although being the one in charge changed that, didn’t it? If something happened that he could have stopped...
No, he couldn’t think like that or he’d go crazy, he knew that. With a few keystrokes he brought up a satellite image of Cardiff, the town glowing in the predawn darkness. Slowly he zoomed out - further, further, further - until it was less than a spec on the globe. For a long while he watched it, wondering how such a tiny place on such a small planet could have crept into him to such an extent.
Finally he tore himself away, instead looking through to the bedroom, taking in the blonde hair spread across the pillows on his bed.
Yet another wonderful thing about Buffy - she wasn’t his responsibility.
***
Later the same morning.
Sunshine being the default weather was something Jack never got tired of. When talking to Tosh she’d complained about the rain ruining a new pair of boots, and he’d done his very best not to be smug - although he had a feeling he’d not quite succeeded. But then Rome didn’t just have sunshine, it also had a gorgeous blonde in a huge four-poster bed, finally stirring after having slept for almost 6 hours...
She sat up, clutching the sheet and looking a little disconcerted, and Jack swiftly locked down his work, before pushing open the door and leaning against the frame. He looked good in doorways, he knew.
“Good morning. Looks like you slept well...”
“Um, yes...” She blushed a little, in the most adorable way imaginable, and he wondered if she knew just how much her slight unease - and her attempt at covering it up - told him. Last night’s boldness had mostly vanished, and he was struck again by how very young she was, despite everything. Past lover(s) had been skillful, but few - and he loved that nervousness, that tentative grasping for how things were now; how to face things with so many things laid bare. Some people, he knew, were all about the chase. But whilst he enjoyed the chase very much indeed, for him the point lay in the capture - in the having and the knowing. He was a craftsman - an artist even - and took great pride in his abilities. With every conquest it took time to fine-tune and hone those skills, to adjust and discover and explore, and he relished every step of the way - not least the beginning...
If he could, he would have frozen this moment of sweet unsureness - as fleeting and transient as the awkwardness of a first kiss.
“Would you like some breakfast?” he asked instead, knowing that he was the one who had to put her at ease, and that there was nothing better for that purpose than food. “I’ll have to make it myself since I told the servants not to come in until after lunch, but I figure I can probably manage to scrape something together.”
“Sounds great!” she answered, looking relieved. He turned, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “The wardrobe is through there - feel free to have a look round if you want a dressing gown or something similar. Afraid I didn’t think that far last night.”
He grinned and left her to it - in his experience no woman could resist a wardrobe, and his was pretty well stocked for any and every eventuality.
When he returned ten minutes later she was back in the bed, wearing a very fetching pale blue kimono that for just a second made his breath hitch. But the girl he’d bought it for was so many years dead that he only faltered for a moment, his smile back in place before she turned to look at him.
“And here you go My Lady - as full a continental breakfast as I could find. Although the coffee is only instant. I think the coffee maker is bewitched.”
He put the tray down and sidled in alongside her. “Although if it is actually bewitched, someone is going to get a spanking!” He thought for a moment as he handed her a cup. “Unless they’re into that. In which case they won’t.”
She chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee, and then tucked into the pastries. He liked the fact that she didn’t seem worried about what she ate - too many women (and men) these days were forever counting calories. Although he probably would be too if he was stuck with a metabolism like theirs... Why people were so against genetic manipulation he couldn’t understand. Sure it was a bit experimental at this point in time, but look where they ended up!
Still, better not to get lost in thought. It was time to enjoy some pillow chat - so, swallowing the last of his chocolate croissant, he caught Buffy’s eyes and smiled self-assuredly.
“I think my prediction the other day was ‘spectacular’ - would you agree that that was correct?”
It was a rhetorical question, really, since he knew exactly how much she’d enjoyed herself, but he still watched her expectantly where she was sitting, apparently turning the question over in her mind. But instead of concurring, she shrugged her slim shoulders almost imperceptibly, as a look he didn’t trust one little bit stole into her eyes.
“I’ve had better.”
He stared open-mouthed for one of the longest seconds he’d ever had. Then his brain caught up and, as he located the source of the quote, he burst out laughing.
Seeing the relief on her face just made him laugh more. What a girl!
Oh she was on - he hadn’t had a challenge like this since... forever. He decided that his mission for the next month was to keep that exact look of mischievousness on her face as much as possible. And best of all - she’d given him the opening he’d wanted.
When he could breathe again, he asked, as calmly as he could: “Who was he?”
The mirth vanished in an instant, her eyes shutting down with an alarming finality. Watching her, Jack felt like banging his head against the wall for jumping in with such clumsiness. There had been a bad ending of some sort, and now she was upset - which was the opposite effect of what he wanted.
But just as he was about to apologise and tell her to forget it, she seemed to make her mind up, taking a steadying breath and meeting his eyes squarely.
“His name was Spike.”
For a second time she left him speechless, although this time it was through pure disbelief, and it took him a few moments to find his voice so he could articulate his astonishment.
“You are kidding! Spike? As in the Spike? Spike Spike?”
It would certainly explain a lot, but a Slayer and a vampire? Especially that vampire...
She studied him, unsure. “What do you mean ‘Spike Spike’?”
He threw his hands in the air - there really weren’t a lot of Spike’s to choose from...
“As in Spike - William the Bloody Spike, Slayer of Slayers Spike - Dru’s lover, Angelus’ protégé, second worst vampire on record - annoying, argumentative, impulsive, smart, impossibly charming, and - lest we forget - the owner of the most incredible cheekbones in the known galaxies!”
As soon as the last words escaped him he cursed inwardly, because it was a slip - a small slip, but a slip nonetheless. However she didn’t seem to have noticed at all, staring at him wide-eyed.
“You knew him?”
He opened his mouth, then hesitated - reminding himself to tread carefully and also a little thrown by the past tense. So he leaned back against the headboard, letting the words flow slowly and leisurely, as if there was only one man he was remembering.
“Not sure I could claim to know him... Let’s see - our paths first crossed back in eighteen... ninety-four it was, when he and Angelus decided that they didn’t like me, and wanted to play at being my archnemeses. Seen them on and off since then - mostly him and Dru though.” He frowned. “Did I hear something about Angelus getting a soul?”
She nodded, clearly trying her best to be composed and not giving much away. “He was cursed by gypsies.”
Jack shrugged. “Can’t say he didn’t deserve it - if I’d known I’d have sent them a gift basket. Anyway, I’ve not actually seen Spike for - wow, must be around 50 years. Time really does fly. I had him thrown in prison for tax evasion last time we crossed paths... Good times.”
He chuckled at the memory, and then realised that Buffy was staring at him, utterly stunned again.
“You - you had Spike imprisoned for tax evasion?”
“Well, I was just going to throw an angry mob at him as usual, but then I happened to actually spy him and Dru... and, um, realised that he’d completely changed his look.” He grinned. “You’ve seen him in a suit?”
She still looked like he’d sprouted weird things out of his head, but she slowly shook her head, before suddenly stopping. “Wait... just the once. A tweed suit - he was hiding from a loan shark.”
Jack waved away the implied similarities. “Oh no - this was a real Italian designer job, and he’d actually got himself a decent haircut too... I swear, I got this close to kidnapping him and doing unspeakable things to him.” He sighed. “I hate it when the handsome ones don’t like me. Anyway, I couldn’t let a mob destroy something that gorgeous - and it’d have been a crime to touch the suit - so I had to do something else...”
He smiled wryly. “It’s a long story, but in the end he wound up in prison. Dru got very cross with me - something about not playing by the rules - and wouldn’t even give me a kiss goodbye.”
There had also been the very uncomfortable moment when she’d seemed to look right through him, before slapping his cheek, angrily. ”Naughty Immortal! It’s not my boy you want. Stay away!”
He looked up to find Buffy studying him, the stunned look having given way to incredulity. “You... and Drusilla... were on kissing terms?”
He smirked. “Oh a lot more than that! I’m sure I mentioned a mind-blowing vampire threesome? That was with her and Darla.”
“You... and Darla... and Dru...” Buffy looked like he had felt a few minutes before. Like there was a need for big, slow words and cardboard cut-outs. He smirked.
“As I said, Spike and Angelus decided they hated me, and I needed to stop them bothering me somehow. The girls were kinda fed up with the alpha strutting too. A-mazing night. Or day rather. There was only the one, sadly. But - you and Spike? Really? I mean - vampire and Slayer, that’s... kinda crazy.”
She did a funny little huff and shook her head. “Tell me about it.”
“Nooo, you tell me!” he shot back, tilting his head and studying her, all fuzzy and golden in the hazy light that filtered through the curtains. Like the embodiment of sunshine and heat - stunning, but surely utterly deadly to a night creature.
“Seriously - I mean, if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but two sworn enemies being lovers? I have the shady reputation to pull off something like that, but you... I’d expect him to want to kill you.”
She smiled wryly, a little more relaxed - or maybe just still too thrown to keep up her guard. “He did. And vice versa. There was a whole lot of trying to kill each other - although it was... kinda complicated. Anyway, then he got captured by this secret demon hunting government group called The Initiative who put a chip in his head so he couldn’t hurt people.”
Jack stared. “A xenomorphic behaviour modification chip? Really?”
He almost added, ‘They tested the early models on vampires? Now that explains a lot.’, but stopped himself just in time.
“You heard about it?”
She looked suspicious now, and he tried his best to look innocent. “Cartman got one shoved in his head in the South Park movie. Looked into the science behind it one day when I was bored...”
Sometimes Jack felt like awarding himself special trophies when he did a particularly good job of thinking on his feet. He beamed at Buffy, mentally admiring his very shiny cup.
“But - it really worked?”
She nodded. “For a few years at least - great big headache anytime he tried to attack anyone.”
He slowly exhaled, shaking his head. “He must have hated that so much! Wait - what about Dru?”
“She... she broke up with him beforehand, ‘cause... ‘cause he fell in love with me. Well not love - obsession. Well both... it’s complicated.” She was looking down, running her finger round the edge of the coffee cup, speaking more to herself than him, he guessed.
Slowly the tale unfolded - mainly Cliffs Notes he could tell - but it was quite an extraordinary story even so. And Spike turning into The Souled Hero Who Died Saving The World was not something he would ever have guessed at, although hearing how things had happened it certainly made sense. And he felt a very definite sense of loss at never being able to meet this new Spike... not least because he wasn’t quite able to picture what he’d be like when good.
Having finished her story Buffy lapsed into silence, and he moved closer, tentatively putting an arm around her shoulders. Sighing she relaxed against him.
“It’s like a step-by-step manual in ‘How to screw up a relationship that could have been incredible’, huh?”
“Well,” he countered, “it sounds pretty incredible to me! Also, trying to date a vampire would be quite a challenge for anyone, and doubly so for a Slayer- I mean, it’s not something I suppose you’d be familiar with...”
He didn’t get any further, as she suddenly did an odd sort of guffaw.
“What?” he asked, and she looked at him with a look that was somewhere between amused and old and weary.
“I dated Angel for... 3 years, on and off. When I was in High School. God, I make it sound like some stupid teen flick, and it wasn’t - it hurt so much that I thought it would kill me. And in the end he- he walked away...”
She let the sentence hang, obviously feeling that she’d done her duty in the telling of vampire-slayer romances already, and Jack tried to wrap his mind around this new revelation. Angelus, but with a soul... probably tortured with guilt and meeting a young, teenaged Buffy - oh he could fill in most of the blanks of that story easily enough.
Clearly she was still upset, and he knew he ought to change the subject, still... Curiosity might have killed the cat, but he was immortal after all.
“Date any other vampires? Or was it all normal guys from then on?”
She shot him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Define normal.”
Laughing, he amended. “OK, date any humans?”
“Yes! Well a few. Although I guess the only proper long-term one was Riley - I thought he was just a TA, but he turned out to be part of The Initiative.”
“Oh,” he replied, smiling deeply. “A soldier boy. Let me guess - tall, strong, very fit, looked great in fatigues, lots of cool gadgets?”
She coloured a little and nodded.
“Oh very few things beat a man in a uniform!” he said confidently. “Actually I think I might have one of my old ones in the wardrobe - I could even dress up if you like?” He winked, and she couldn’t help but smile, so he felt confident enough to keep on topic.
“But - that’s it? That’s your list of exes?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “I had this horrible one-night stand when I started college...”
”Did he try to kill you?” Jack cut in, and she shook her head in surprise.
“Then it doesn’t qualify as ‘horrible’, just unfortunate. Trust me! Still...” his eyes narrowed. “Spike, Angel, Undercover Soldier - and of course me! That’s...”
He was silent for a moment, turning this astonishing list over in his head, then caught her eyes and spoke with great deliberation.
“I think you might have the best taste in men that I have ever come across.”
If he’d punched her, or suddenly revealed himself to be the illegitimate love child of Mother Theresa and Gengis Khan, she couldn’t have looked more gobsmacked.
“I what?”
“You have an amazing taste in men. By your age...”
He smirked, throwing his mind back. “Well my list was a lot longer than yours, and had quite a few more species on it, but- I think that in this case quality trumps quantity. 3 living legends and a secret agent... I am in awe! And jealous.”
She was staring at him, and he thought that this time he might actually have brought her to tears. Which was bad - of course - except he couldn’t quite work out why she’d be upset at a compliment.
“You don’t... “ she shook her head, busying herself with carefully moving the breakfast things onto the bedside table, obviously trying to get her emotions under control. “Oh god, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For a moment she stared ahead, unseeing, before slowly beginning to talk, her face much too bitter and hurt for someone so young. “Riley, although he said that he loved me, left because he couldn’t cope with my powers and independence - and he was so heartbroken that he was married less than a year later; Spike never believed that I loved him - because I really am the queen of mixed messages and screwing up - and Angel...” she swallowed, the sudden anger in her voice a shock. “Angel is now working for Wolfram & Hart.”
Jack could feel his jaw drop, but this was just impossible. And worrying - really, deeply worrying. He caught her eyes, scrutinising her.
“Why?”
He knew that the question was too sharp, too demanding - but he could feel alarm bells going off in his head and he needed information, dammit. The two worst things about this alias, fairly easily dealt with separately... but together? Angelus - Angel, whatever, the name was unimportant - with the power of Wolfram & Hart at his fingertips? Not many things unsettled him, but this situation had the potential for blowing up quite spectacularly.
Buffy tilted her head, a perky smile suddenly on her lips.
“You know it was the funniest thing - he wrote me this lovely letter, saying how he was fed up with being a hero, so he decided to retire and Wolfram & Hart had by far the best pension plan. Then he asked me if I’d like to come round for coffee sometime so I could admire his modern sculptures.”
The lady sure knew her sarcasm - Jack was very glad that he would never be her adversary and feel the sting of that tongue in full, so he bent his head in apology.
“Sorry. It just... threw me. Seriously, you have no idea why?”
She shook her head, sighing deeply. “He never explained anything. Some months ago he helped us capture a rogue slayer, and I sent Andrew to deal with it - he’s surprisingly good at that kinda stuff. But - even though apparently Angel’s trying to help people still - I let him know that we didn’t want anything to do with him.”
The unspoken question in her eyes coming through loud and clear: ‘I did the right thing, didn’t I?’
Nothing he’d say would change her mind one iota, that much was obvious, but he knew how she felt. There were some decisions that were made in a moment, and you never looked back. And then there were some that kept haunting you, even though you knew you’d made the right call, and you wished there was someone to tell you that.
“Only thing you could do, I think. I’m on very friendly terms with Wolfram & Hart myself, but then I can’t afford not to be. But you... no, there’s no middle way. He might be trying to do good, but he’s still on the payroll of some of the worst evil I’ve ever come across.”
He would have to check up on the situation, try to discover what had happened. What could they have offered Angel? What was he trying to do? But now was not the time for wondering. He shifted a little, catching her eyes.
“Well... this turned out rather different than I planned - never meant to end up with this big heart-to-heart. But, I meant what I said. You really do have the most incredible taste in men.”
“Yeah,” she replied, her face a picture of wry resignation. “I target the impossible ones with deadly accuracy.”
“Exactly!” he said with great emphasis. “Most people never dare to even think about aiming that high. If you like I could tell you the stories of all of my exes, but we’d still be sitting here tonight and there wouldn’t be anything that you aren’t familiar with anyway: Sometimes I left them, sometimes they left me, sometimes they grew old and died - but mostly they were killed much too young... No happy endings, ever. Love is - love is the most amazing thing in the world. And also the thing that always fucks me up.”
He sighed deeply, before lifting his hand and cupping her face, studying her solemn beauty for a moment before continuing, unable to help the smile that snuck into the corner of his mouth.
“Which is why I much - much - prefer this.”
He leaned into her, waiting just a second before letting their lips meet, relishing the anticipation - the way her breath caught, how her body tensed under his hands, her pupils dilating just the tiniest fraction...
Then he was kissing her, and whether they were trying to forget heaven or hell or just the pain of love didn’t matter at all.
Feeling her lips part he deepened the kiss, her passion waking as his hands stole under the kimono, trailing along her side and round her back. She was so tiny, so deceptively fragile - all softness and slender curves - and yet he knew that she could easily kick him through the wall. It was quite ridiculous how much that turned him on, especially considering the fact that he really didn’t want to be kicked anywhere.
Groaning he pulled her closer, parting her legs with a knee as he deftly pulled the flimsy fabric off her shoulders, and she briefly let go of his mouth.
“You are insatiable!” she said, eyes dancing, and he laughed, too delighted to even begin to argue. This game, ancient and yet forever new, never stopped amazing him - he could feel his whole body begin to hum in expectation and knew that she felt the same. They were hardwired for pleasure after all, the need written into their DNA. Why fight it?
“You going to tell me that there’s anything in the world better than this?” he asked, and after a few seconds, in which his hands were not idle at all, she smiled back. “Fair point,” she agreed, kissing him anew, and in that moment he couldn’t have cared less if the world itself had decided to end.
Chapter 7.
Previous parts here. And many thank you's to kathyh for the beta! *sends more cold remedies*
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 5100 words approx.
Chapter 6
Xander: Yeah, relationship debris is kind of piling up on the Buffy highway.
~
Buffy: I just... target the impossible ones... with deadly accuracy.
Holden: You think you do that on purpose? Maybe you're trying to protect yourself?
Buffy: Protecting myself? From heartbreak, misery, sexual violence, and possible death? Not so much.
Tuesday morning, 6th of April, predawn.
Captain Jack Harkness wasn’t a religious man - and yet, as he watched the sleeping woman in his bed, he had a sudden urge to offer his gratitude to someone. He guessed he could thank serendipity, but talking to a concept was a little too far, even for him.
He’d have to settle for spoiling Buffy in every way he knew... treat her like a princess, just like he’d promised. A somewhat wicked princess though, not a vapid Disney one. His body was still tingling from energy spent, from just trying to keep up - he felt as exhausted as after a long night of weevil catching.
Logically it had made sense to let her take charge, since he had figured that she was probably a natural leader in bed as well as outside of it - and also he wanted to see what her tastes were. So he had told her to set the pace; and then...
Reaching out he stroked her cheek, still somewhat overawed and shaken. Who had her previous lover(s) been? It had not taken him long to dismiss his list as wholly inadequate, as she had shown him that she knew exactly what she wanted from him - she was clearly not just trained for combat, but also for the rather different skills needed in the bedroom...
Being able to jump straight to improvisation - advanced improvisation even - was such a gift that he could barely begin to grasp it. Tantalising prospects were dancing at the back of his mind, delightful and somewhat distracting. Not that he minded those with only the most basic knowledge - he always relished the opportunity to widen their horizons, and enjoyed the surprises that inevitably met him as they found their own style - but in the circumstances Buffy’s proficiency was so lucky as to defy belief.
Getting to know her was like... like exploring the TARDIS for the first time, a new surprise around every corner. He smiled as he remembered that just when he’d thought that surely there couldn’t be more, he had stumbled across the Olympic sized swimming pool...
Of course then Rose had appeared a while later - only to disappear almost immediately, spluttering. This odd behaviour had been explained once he’d finished his swim, when the Doctor had sat him down for A Talk, the main gist of which being that Jack was not allowed to be naked anywhere onboard, except his own room - not even when swimming.
The irony of having had to live through more than a century of this attitude was not lost on him.
With a sigh he let the reminiscing go, and briefly wondered what Buffy’s attitude to nudity was. He had a suspicion that it fell very much in line with current views - which was good, actually, because it stopped her from being completely perfect, perfection being something he was rather wary of. And Buffy came dangerously close...
There were plenty of people that he’d wished he could have shown the wonders of the universe. But Buffy was one of the wonders herself. His very private wonder.
And not because she was funny and smart and beautiful and heroic and all the rest, although that added to it. But because he’d come back to life and seen in her eyes the one thing he never thought possible: recognition. He’d never imagined - never dared hope - that he’d ever meet someone who understood what it felt like to be forcibly dragged back into life. The pain, the confusion, the anger - it was not something it was possible to explain, and yet this woman - warrior woman, he corrected himself - knew what it was like.
The fact that she also shared his need to escape, to play pretend, and then revealed herself to be as versatile in the bedroom as a Swiss Army knife was just the icing on the proverbial cake.
Surely he could manage to stretch this job a bit longer than a month?
Sadly this thought reminded him that he needed to actually do some work... UNIT were getting impatient, demanding a ‘progress report’ - by which they clearly meant ‘how much useful stuff can you salvage?’
With a final soft kiss on his Slayer’s cheek, Jack got out of bed - wanting to curse the stupid spaceship, and yet knowing that without it, he would never have met Buffy. After pulling on a silk dressing gown he retrieved his Torchwood case from the office, and then sat himself down in a room adjacent to the bedroom - the door slightly ajar in case Buffy woke up. Although there were still quite a few hours until dawn, and he figured she was used to sleeping in after late nights.
Switching on the laptop he slowly began writing, now and again checking the notes he’d been jotting down. The ship was basic, but still had plenty of items that UNIT would be thrilled by - most of all the navigation system, whose star map had escaped unscathed.
The engines of course were a write-off, although he was rather worried by the fact that they’d blown up again. He’d have to have a good look at them later, to make sure they were definitely completely out of action before getting rid of them...
He also needed to call Torchwood - not that Suzie wasn’t scrupulous about her daily reports, but he needed to talk to Tosh. He had - with a rather monumental feeling of ‘why-on-earth-didn’t-I-think-of-that-before?’ - realised that all the equipment from the ship would be too radioactive for UNIT to study, except under the most carefully controlled circumstances. Which made the whole point of the exercise rather superfluous. Being short on resources (and time, to be honest), what he needed was some method or other of accelerating the gamma ray decay rate. He had a few ideas, and knew that if he only pointed Tosh in the right direction she’d work something out.
And UNIT would have just let that brain go to waste... his clever, bright, wonderful Tosh. He really ought to think about bringing presents back - they’d certainly deserve them.
For a moment he missed his Hub intensely. ‘His Hub’, he realised, his. It had always just been ‘the’ Hub, but there was a sense of ownership to it now. The darkness, the hum of technology all around, the ever-present threat of danger - it all felt much more ‘home’ than the beauty of the house he was currently in... as did the worry that made him read Suzie’s reports very carefully indeed, even if he tried his best to tell himself that Torchwood had always got along fine whether he was there or not. Although being the one in charge changed that, didn’t it? If something happened that he could have stopped...
No, he couldn’t think like that or he’d go crazy, he knew that. With a few keystrokes he brought up a satellite image of Cardiff, the town glowing in the predawn darkness. Slowly he zoomed out - further, further, further - until it was less than a spec on the globe. For a long while he watched it, wondering how such a tiny place on such a small planet could have crept into him to such an extent.
Finally he tore himself away, instead looking through to the bedroom, taking in the blonde hair spread across the pillows on his bed.
Yet another wonderful thing about Buffy - she wasn’t his responsibility.
***
Later the same morning.
Sunshine being the default weather was something Jack never got tired of. When talking to Tosh she’d complained about the rain ruining a new pair of boots, and he’d done his very best not to be smug - although he had a feeling he’d not quite succeeded. But then Rome didn’t just have sunshine, it also had a gorgeous blonde in a huge four-poster bed, finally stirring after having slept for almost 6 hours...
She sat up, clutching the sheet and looking a little disconcerted, and Jack swiftly locked down his work, before pushing open the door and leaning against the frame. He looked good in doorways, he knew.
“Good morning. Looks like you slept well...”
“Um, yes...” She blushed a little, in the most adorable way imaginable, and he wondered if she knew just how much her slight unease - and her attempt at covering it up - told him. Last night’s boldness had mostly vanished, and he was struck again by how very young she was, despite everything. Past lover(s) had been skillful, but few - and he loved that nervousness, that tentative grasping for how things were now; how to face things with so many things laid bare. Some people, he knew, were all about the chase. But whilst he enjoyed the chase very much indeed, for him the point lay in the capture - in the having and the knowing. He was a craftsman - an artist even - and took great pride in his abilities. With every conquest it took time to fine-tune and hone those skills, to adjust and discover and explore, and he relished every step of the way - not least the beginning...
If he could, he would have frozen this moment of sweet unsureness - as fleeting and transient as the awkwardness of a first kiss.
“Would you like some breakfast?” he asked instead, knowing that he was the one who had to put her at ease, and that there was nothing better for that purpose than food. “I’ll have to make it myself since I told the servants not to come in until after lunch, but I figure I can probably manage to scrape something together.”
“Sounds great!” she answered, looking relieved. He turned, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “The wardrobe is through there - feel free to have a look round if you want a dressing gown or something similar. Afraid I didn’t think that far last night.”
He grinned and left her to it - in his experience no woman could resist a wardrobe, and his was pretty well stocked for any and every eventuality.
When he returned ten minutes later she was back in the bed, wearing a very fetching pale blue kimono that for just a second made his breath hitch. But the girl he’d bought it for was so many years dead that he only faltered for a moment, his smile back in place before she turned to look at him.
“And here you go My Lady - as full a continental breakfast as I could find. Although the coffee is only instant. I think the coffee maker is bewitched.”
He put the tray down and sidled in alongside her. “Although if it is actually bewitched, someone is going to get a spanking!” He thought for a moment as he handed her a cup. “Unless they’re into that. In which case they won’t.”
She chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee, and then tucked into the pastries. He liked the fact that she didn’t seem worried about what she ate - too many women (and men) these days were forever counting calories. Although he probably would be too if he was stuck with a metabolism like theirs... Why people were so against genetic manipulation he couldn’t understand. Sure it was a bit experimental at this point in time, but look where they ended up!
Still, better not to get lost in thought. It was time to enjoy some pillow chat - so, swallowing the last of his chocolate croissant, he caught Buffy’s eyes and smiled self-assuredly.
“I think my prediction the other day was ‘spectacular’ - would you agree that that was correct?”
It was a rhetorical question, really, since he knew exactly how much she’d enjoyed herself, but he still watched her expectantly where she was sitting, apparently turning the question over in her mind. But instead of concurring, she shrugged her slim shoulders almost imperceptibly, as a look he didn’t trust one little bit stole into her eyes.
“I’ve had better.”
He stared open-mouthed for one of the longest seconds he’d ever had. Then his brain caught up and, as he located the source of the quote, he burst out laughing.
Seeing the relief on her face just made him laugh more. What a girl!
Oh she was on - he hadn’t had a challenge like this since... forever. He decided that his mission for the next month was to keep that exact look of mischievousness on her face as much as possible. And best of all - she’d given him the opening he’d wanted.
When he could breathe again, he asked, as calmly as he could: “Who was he?”
The mirth vanished in an instant, her eyes shutting down with an alarming finality. Watching her, Jack felt like banging his head against the wall for jumping in with such clumsiness. There had been a bad ending of some sort, and now she was upset - which was the opposite effect of what he wanted.
But just as he was about to apologise and tell her to forget it, she seemed to make her mind up, taking a steadying breath and meeting his eyes squarely.
“His name was Spike.”
For a second time she left him speechless, although this time it was through pure disbelief, and it took him a few moments to find his voice so he could articulate his astonishment.
“You are kidding! Spike? As in the Spike? Spike Spike?”
It would certainly explain a lot, but a Slayer and a vampire? Especially that vampire...
She studied him, unsure. “What do you mean ‘Spike Spike’?”
He threw his hands in the air - there really weren’t a lot of Spike’s to choose from...
“As in Spike - William the Bloody Spike, Slayer of Slayers Spike - Dru’s lover, Angelus’ protégé, second worst vampire on record - annoying, argumentative, impulsive, smart, impossibly charming, and - lest we forget - the owner of the most incredible cheekbones in the known galaxies!”
As soon as the last words escaped him he cursed inwardly, because it was a slip - a small slip, but a slip nonetheless. However she didn’t seem to have noticed at all, staring at him wide-eyed.
“You knew him?”
He opened his mouth, then hesitated - reminding himself to tread carefully and also a little thrown by the past tense. So he leaned back against the headboard, letting the words flow slowly and leisurely, as if there was only one man he was remembering.
“Not sure I could claim to know him... Let’s see - our paths first crossed back in eighteen... ninety-four it was, when he and Angelus decided that they didn’t like me, and wanted to play at being my archnemeses. Seen them on and off since then - mostly him and Dru though.” He frowned. “Did I hear something about Angelus getting a soul?”
She nodded, clearly trying her best to be composed and not giving much away. “He was cursed by gypsies.”
Jack shrugged. “Can’t say he didn’t deserve it - if I’d known I’d have sent them a gift basket. Anyway, I’ve not actually seen Spike for - wow, must be around 50 years. Time really does fly. I had him thrown in prison for tax evasion last time we crossed paths... Good times.”
He chuckled at the memory, and then realised that Buffy was staring at him, utterly stunned again.
“You - you had Spike imprisoned for tax evasion?”
“Well, I was just going to throw an angry mob at him as usual, but then I happened to actually spy him and Dru... and, um, realised that he’d completely changed his look.” He grinned. “You’ve seen him in a suit?”
She still looked like he’d sprouted weird things out of his head, but she slowly shook her head, before suddenly stopping. “Wait... just the once. A tweed suit - he was hiding from a loan shark.”
Jack waved away the implied similarities. “Oh no - this was a real Italian designer job, and he’d actually got himself a decent haircut too... I swear, I got this close to kidnapping him and doing unspeakable things to him.” He sighed. “I hate it when the handsome ones don’t like me. Anyway, I couldn’t let a mob destroy something that gorgeous - and it’d have been a crime to touch the suit - so I had to do something else...”
He smiled wryly. “It’s a long story, but in the end he wound up in prison. Dru got very cross with me - something about not playing by the rules - and wouldn’t even give me a kiss goodbye.”
There had also been the very uncomfortable moment when she’d seemed to look right through him, before slapping his cheek, angrily. ”Naughty Immortal! It’s not my boy you want. Stay away!”
He looked up to find Buffy studying him, the stunned look having given way to incredulity. “You... and Drusilla... were on kissing terms?”
He smirked. “Oh a lot more than that! I’m sure I mentioned a mind-blowing vampire threesome? That was with her and Darla.”
“You... and Darla... and Dru...” Buffy looked like he had felt a few minutes before. Like there was a need for big, slow words and cardboard cut-outs. He smirked.
“As I said, Spike and Angelus decided they hated me, and I needed to stop them bothering me somehow. The girls were kinda fed up with the alpha strutting too. A-mazing night. Or day rather. There was only the one, sadly. But - you and Spike? Really? I mean - vampire and Slayer, that’s... kinda crazy.”
She did a funny little huff and shook her head. “Tell me about it.”
“Nooo, you tell me!” he shot back, tilting his head and studying her, all fuzzy and golden in the hazy light that filtered through the curtains. Like the embodiment of sunshine and heat - stunning, but surely utterly deadly to a night creature.
“Seriously - I mean, if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but two sworn enemies being lovers? I have the shady reputation to pull off something like that, but you... I’d expect him to want to kill you.”
She smiled wryly, a little more relaxed - or maybe just still too thrown to keep up her guard. “He did. And vice versa. There was a whole lot of trying to kill each other - although it was... kinda complicated. Anyway, then he got captured by this secret demon hunting government group called The Initiative who put a chip in his head so he couldn’t hurt people.”
Jack stared. “A xenomorphic behaviour modification chip? Really?”
He almost added, ‘They tested the early models on vampires? Now that explains a lot.’, but stopped himself just in time.
“You heard about it?”
She looked suspicious now, and he tried his best to look innocent. “Cartman got one shoved in his head in the South Park movie. Looked into the science behind it one day when I was bored...”
Sometimes Jack felt like awarding himself special trophies when he did a particularly good job of thinking on his feet. He beamed at Buffy, mentally admiring his very shiny cup.
“But - it really worked?”
She nodded. “For a few years at least - great big headache anytime he tried to attack anyone.”
He slowly exhaled, shaking his head. “He must have hated that so much! Wait - what about Dru?”
“She... she broke up with him beforehand, ‘cause... ‘cause he fell in love with me. Well not love - obsession. Well both... it’s complicated.” She was looking down, running her finger round the edge of the coffee cup, speaking more to herself than him, he guessed.
Slowly the tale unfolded - mainly Cliffs Notes he could tell - but it was quite an extraordinary story even so. And Spike turning into The Souled Hero Who Died Saving The World was not something he would ever have guessed at, although hearing how things had happened it certainly made sense. And he felt a very definite sense of loss at never being able to meet this new Spike... not least because he wasn’t quite able to picture what he’d be like when good.
Having finished her story Buffy lapsed into silence, and he moved closer, tentatively putting an arm around her shoulders. Sighing she relaxed against him.
“It’s like a step-by-step manual in ‘How to screw up a relationship that could have been incredible’, huh?”
“Well,” he countered, “it sounds pretty incredible to me! Also, trying to date a vampire would be quite a challenge for anyone, and doubly so for a Slayer- I mean, it’s not something I suppose you’d be familiar with...”
He didn’t get any further, as she suddenly did an odd sort of guffaw.
“What?” he asked, and she looked at him with a look that was somewhere between amused and old and weary.
“I dated Angel for... 3 years, on and off. When I was in High School. God, I make it sound like some stupid teen flick, and it wasn’t - it hurt so much that I thought it would kill me. And in the end he- he walked away...”
She let the sentence hang, obviously feeling that she’d done her duty in the telling of vampire-slayer romances already, and Jack tried to wrap his mind around this new revelation. Angelus, but with a soul... probably tortured with guilt and meeting a young, teenaged Buffy - oh he could fill in most of the blanks of that story easily enough.
Clearly she was still upset, and he knew he ought to change the subject, still... Curiosity might have killed the cat, but he was immortal after all.
“Date any other vampires? Or was it all normal guys from then on?”
She shot him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Define normal.”
Laughing, he amended. “OK, date any humans?”
“Yes! Well a few. Although I guess the only proper long-term one was Riley - I thought he was just a TA, but he turned out to be part of The Initiative.”
“Oh,” he replied, smiling deeply. “A soldier boy. Let me guess - tall, strong, very fit, looked great in fatigues, lots of cool gadgets?”
She coloured a little and nodded.
“Oh very few things beat a man in a uniform!” he said confidently. “Actually I think I might have one of my old ones in the wardrobe - I could even dress up if you like?” He winked, and she couldn’t help but smile, so he felt confident enough to keep on topic.
“But - that’s it? That’s your list of exes?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “I had this horrible one-night stand when I started college...”
”Did he try to kill you?” Jack cut in, and she shook her head in surprise.
“Then it doesn’t qualify as ‘horrible’, just unfortunate. Trust me! Still...” his eyes narrowed. “Spike, Angel, Undercover Soldier - and of course me! That’s...”
He was silent for a moment, turning this astonishing list over in his head, then caught her eyes and spoke with great deliberation.
“I think you might have the best taste in men that I have ever come across.”
If he’d punched her, or suddenly revealed himself to be the illegitimate love child of Mother Theresa and Gengis Khan, she couldn’t have looked more gobsmacked.
“I what?”
“You have an amazing taste in men. By your age...”
He smirked, throwing his mind back. “Well my list was a lot longer than yours, and had quite a few more species on it, but- I think that in this case quality trumps quantity. 3 living legends and a secret agent... I am in awe! And jealous.”
She was staring at him, and he thought that this time he might actually have brought her to tears. Which was bad - of course - except he couldn’t quite work out why she’d be upset at a compliment.
“You don’t... “ she shook her head, busying herself with carefully moving the breakfast things onto the bedside table, obviously trying to get her emotions under control. “Oh god, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For a moment she stared ahead, unseeing, before slowly beginning to talk, her face much too bitter and hurt for someone so young. “Riley, although he said that he loved me, left because he couldn’t cope with my powers and independence - and he was so heartbroken that he was married less than a year later; Spike never believed that I loved him - because I really am the queen of mixed messages and screwing up - and Angel...” she swallowed, the sudden anger in her voice a shock. “Angel is now working for Wolfram & Hart.”
Jack could feel his jaw drop, but this was just impossible. And worrying - really, deeply worrying. He caught her eyes, scrutinising her.
“Why?”
He knew that the question was too sharp, too demanding - but he could feel alarm bells going off in his head and he needed information, dammit. The two worst things about this alias, fairly easily dealt with separately... but together? Angelus - Angel, whatever, the name was unimportant - with the power of Wolfram & Hart at his fingertips? Not many things unsettled him, but this situation had the potential for blowing up quite spectacularly.
Buffy tilted her head, a perky smile suddenly on her lips.
“You know it was the funniest thing - he wrote me this lovely letter, saying how he was fed up with being a hero, so he decided to retire and Wolfram & Hart had by far the best pension plan. Then he asked me if I’d like to come round for coffee sometime so I could admire his modern sculptures.”
The lady sure knew her sarcasm - Jack was very glad that he would never be her adversary and feel the sting of that tongue in full, so he bent his head in apology.
“Sorry. It just... threw me. Seriously, you have no idea why?”
She shook her head, sighing deeply. “He never explained anything. Some months ago he helped us capture a rogue slayer, and I sent Andrew to deal with it - he’s surprisingly good at that kinda stuff. But - even though apparently Angel’s trying to help people still - I let him know that we didn’t want anything to do with him.”
The unspoken question in her eyes coming through loud and clear: ‘I did the right thing, didn’t I?’
Nothing he’d say would change her mind one iota, that much was obvious, but he knew how she felt. There were some decisions that were made in a moment, and you never looked back. And then there were some that kept haunting you, even though you knew you’d made the right call, and you wished there was someone to tell you that.
“Only thing you could do, I think. I’m on very friendly terms with Wolfram & Hart myself, but then I can’t afford not to be. But you... no, there’s no middle way. He might be trying to do good, but he’s still on the payroll of some of the worst evil I’ve ever come across.”
He would have to check up on the situation, try to discover what had happened. What could they have offered Angel? What was he trying to do? But now was not the time for wondering. He shifted a little, catching her eyes.
“Well... this turned out rather different than I planned - never meant to end up with this big heart-to-heart. But, I meant what I said. You really do have the most incredible taste in men.”
“Yeah,” she replied, her face a picture of wry resignation. “I target the impossible ones with deadly accuracy.”
“Exactly!” he said with great emphasis. “Most people never dare to even think about aiming that high. If you like I could tell you the stories of all of my exes, but we’d still be sitting here tonight and there wouldn’t be anything that you aren’t familiar with anyway: Sometimes I left them, sometimes they left me, sometimes they grew old and died - but mostly they were killed much too young... No happy endings, ever. Love is - love is the most amazing thing in the world. And also the thing that always fucks me up.”
He sighed deeply, before lifting his hand and cupping her face, studying her solemn beauty for a moment before continuing, unable to help the smile that snuck into the corner of his mouth.
“Which is why I much - much - prefer this.”
He leaned into her, waiting just a second before letting their lips meet, relishing the anticipation - the way her breath caught, how her body tensed under his hands, her pupils dilating just the tiniest fraction...
Then he was kissing her, and whether they were trying to forget heaven or hell or just the pain of love didn’t matter at all.
Feeling her lips part he deepened the kiss, her passion waking as his hands stole under the kimono, trailing along her side and round her back. She was so tiny, so deceptively fragile - all softness and slender curves - and yet he knew that she could easily kick him through the wall. It was quite ridiculous how much that turned him on, especially considering the fact that he really didn’t want to be kicked anywhere.
Groaning he pulled her closer, parting her legs with a knee as he deftly pulled the flimsy fabric off her shoulders, and she briefly let go of his mouth.
“You are insatiable!” she said, eyes dancing, and he laughed, too delighted to even begin to argue. This game, ancient and yet forever new, never stopped amazing him - he could feel his whole body begin to hum in expectation and knew that she felt the same. They were hardwired for pleasure after all, the need written into their DNA. Why fight it?
“You going to tell me that there’s anything in the world better than this?” he asked, and after a few seconds, in which his hands were not idle at all, she smiled back. “Fair point,” she agreed, kissing him anew, and in that moment he couldn’t have cared less if the world itself had decided to end.
Chapter 7.