Because Cavemen Have Fire, the Sequel. Chapter 1.
Happy Birthday adoxerella! And look, I didn't forget. :)
Also a Happy Birthday to frimfram - you are very missed.
Previous parts here. And lots of thanks to kathyh for the look-through.
Summary: There are always consequences.
Setting: Post-NFA. (And Buffy never dated The Immortal.)
Rating: Mild R.
Pairings: S/B/A.
Word count: Just under 1700 words.
Feedback: Yes please. :)
Disclaimer: I am not Joss and do not own these characters! [/obvious]
A/N: This is not the sequel I planned to write. Well - that’s not strictly true. I always knew the characters’ arc (Buffy’s specifically), and thus wrote a beginning and a few other bits & pieces, but no plot ever showed up, so I just let it be. And then no plot kept showing up, not even when I shared it with adoxerella and got some feedback, and in the end (since I promised her she could have it as birthday fic), I decided to just work with what I had. So. This fic has no plot as such, it just chronicles how the characters move forward. This, of course, turned out to be a pain (as I knew it would) once I started to poke it - seriously, not even my beta could work out what was happening, so I had to rearrange lots of bits and add things and hopefully it’ll flow now. Although it’ll take me a little while to string it together so you’ll only get the two first parts today. But it’s coming, promise. (Also it’s quite... dark [thematically, not graphically], and I never really wanted it to go that dark, but what with the prequels I had to deal with all that stuff, and so I’ve been extremely hesitant about sharing it.) And, um, that’s it. Enjoy!
ETA: OK, chapter 2 will have to be posted tomorrow. Sorry. Life happened... Also I forgot to mention that the banner (which I love to distraction) is by uglybusiness!
Chapter 1
June 2004, in a nightclub in London. Approximately five months before the start of Because Cavemen Have Fire.
Faith put her arm around Buffy’s shoulders and surveyed the club in concentrated silence before slowly nodding.
“Yeah - this place has got the stuff. Just the thing for a couple of girlfriends to let loose for a bit.”
She grinned at Buffy, and Buffy smiled back, shaking her head. “You’re not here to ‘let loose’ - you’re here to pull. I’m just being pulled.” A beat, then her brain caught up. “Along. Pulled along.”
Despite her swift amendment, Faith laughed heartily. “Hey - if that’s what you’re after B, then we could just skip the dancing altogether!”
“Shut up,” Buffy countered, and let her eyes pass over the heaving mass on the dance floor, the bright lights - all the couples, all the singles... She sighed and squared her shoulders. “And anyway,” she turned to Faith, “what happened to you and Robin? I thought you were - involved?”
Faith shrugged. “Nah. Well OK, yes - I mean he’s a great guy, and we had a lot of fun... he really opened my eyes about men to be honest. But - yours truly ain’t really ready to find Mr Right and settle down yet... just look at this place for starters - it’s like a frickin’ convenience store!”
And unwittingly her words drove a sudden knife through Buffy.
Convenient.
Closing her eyes she tried to suppress the whole issue - the ‘He came back to life!’, the ‘Why did he never call?’, the ‘Why did Andrew just this once keep a secret?’, the ‘Will there ever be another Mr Right?’...
Deep breath. Deep breath. Focus. Fun night out.
Opening her eyes she saw Faith studying her, a frown marring her forehead.
“I said something again, didn’t I?”
“No,” Buffy quickly replied, before immediately reversing her position. “Well yes, but it’s... I’ll deal. How do you do it?”
She knew that Faith had taken the news of The Big Thing in LA hard as well - she had sketched in a few details about her relations with Angel and Wesley, but was as unwilling to discuss it as Buffy was to discuss Spike... or Angel. So instead they did this - going out, losing themselves in battles or music or dancing or - in Faith’s case - the arms of random strangers.
“Sex, sweet girlfriend! It just helps take the mind off things - trust me, after a few years in the slammer you’d feel the same.”
Buffy shook her head and they set off down the stairs to the dance floor. She liked the theory, but so far there’d not been anyone tempting enough - no one who’d looked as though he could make her forget very specific arms and hands and kisses. And now, with her heart ripped out for the second time she doubted if it’d ever happen. Fighting seemed the better option by far - and there was some mission in Germany that Giles had mentioned yesterday, one of those where he looked all serious and was obviously assembling a large team armed to the teeth. She’d have to get in on that. For now, she would dance the night away and do her very best not to think of The Bronze and the vampire(s) she’d lost.
Letting go of conscious thought she let the music carry her away, noticing nothing but Faith and her abandon - Faith whose easy friendship and understanding helped keep her afloat. She never had to worry about Faith’s reaction to anything - never needed to explain herself.
Faith was a lifeline.
***
February 2005, same London nightclub.
The music wove through and around Buffy, its beat vibrating into every part of her, the strobe lights fragmenting and breaking on her skin, making the world spin. It was almost like a dream, except no dream could ever have been this incredible. Her arms were slung around the neck of a stunningly beautiful and utterly sensual creature, whose lips were whispering sweet, dirty little things in her ear, and whose hands were holding her ever so tightly against his hard body...
And then other hands intruded, twirling her away into a different embrace, and the pure sheer joy of it all was almost too much.
As she briefly looked around the crowded space, she recognised a small party of younger slayers - mouths and brows drawn in silent, cold disapproval - but nothing could dent her newfound happiness. She’d spent far too long worrying about the approval of others, and far too long mourning what she’d thought gone forever, to even pretend to care now.
Then the song segued into a slow, intimate number, and suddenly they were both there, fitting her between them perfectly - like the heart held between two hands on the ring Angel had once given her.
A shiver went through her as a low voice murmured in her ear, “Let’s go home...”
***
“Buffy...” Angel’s voice was patient, but with just a hint of an edge, “I need you to lie still.”
“Can’t,” she gasped, and then squirmed again. The man was unreasonable in the extreme in the bedroom - something she’d been discovering recently - and how anyone was supposed to keep still in this situation she had no idea.
She heard him sigh, and opening her eyes a fraction she could tell that he was now actually thinking about a solution. How was he able to do that? How could anyone be that... rational? She looked at him, the way the low lights highlighted the planes of his body and the faint perspiration catching the light - and all she wanted was to get up and lick him.
With Spike everything was intuitive, instinctive, forever going with the flow and pursuing every new avenue as it opened up. But Angel was methodical - which paid off, it was true, but it was often infuriating beforehand.
“Spike... get some rope.”
She could almost hear the grin that answered the command, but then all thoughts were forced out of her mind, as wave after wave of sensation took over.
How had she ever managed with just one lover?
***
It was well past midday the next day before they got up. But Spike and Angel were leaving on some kind of undercover mission (it had something to do with all their research, but they hadn’t elaborated and she hadn’t asked) and they needed to catch a train. There were a lot of long, lingering kisses and almost-tearfulness, because they’d never really been apart since she’d first found them (except for when Spike had run off) and Buffy felt all hollow when the door finally shut behind them.
Guess they’d proved that a person really could be in love with two people at the same time.
Needing something to occupy her she slowly started tidying. Also Dawn would be coming round tonight with her boyfriend and Buffy had promised to at least pretend to be all respectable.
It was as she rolled up the rope, a small smile forcing its way into the corner of her mouth - because last night really had been something special - that it suddenly hit her.
She looked at the rope, and then shook her head in disbelief, trying to remember exactly what had happened. But... unless she’d been even more out of it that she’d thought, there was no way around it: Angel had said ‘rope’ and Spike had fetched it. Without a single protest or argument. Not one.
And that was... impossible. As she carefully put the rope back in the weapons’ chest, she could almost hear the arguments still - arguments that had made her go almost insane recently. Two weeks of ‘rope versus cuffs’ - debated in every possible way, in every place and at any time... there’d even been some demon that they needed to question that had almost escaped because they started arguing over the best way of tying it down.
So... what was going on?
Making her way back into the bedroom, smoothing out the bedding and rearranging the pillows (not as neatly as Angel did it, but then she wasn’t that... fussy), her mind kept turning over the problem.
And then she realised what it was.
She blinked, then frowned and wondered if maybe she was going crazy, but no:
They never argued in bed.
Ever.
More than two months, and she could not recall a single instant of the two of them disagreeing on anything in the bedroom. True, more often than not they didn’t need words at all, working together like a well oiled machine - she silently groaned at the pun - but whenever something had cropped up, one or the other would just instantly fold.
Slowly she sank down onto the soft bedspread, taking on board this latest addition to the list she was trying very hard not to keep... The list of ‘Weird Things About Spike and Angel That They Never Talk About’.
It was a list that had snuck up on her unawares. At first everything had been more than fine, until Spike’s sudden flight had highlighted problems from the past that needed dealing with. And on that front they were doing quite well.
It was another front that was the problem now - and this one she didn’t know how to deal with. It was the one where her two vampires had known each other for one hundred plus years; the one where they were so much older, their pasts soaked in blood; the one where they had bonds that ran deeper than anything she could hope for; the one where she knew they’d been sleeping together and they refused to talk about it (except in a few stupid jokes over Christmas, trying to shock her friends); the one where she’d expected jealousy, and instead got... ‘Spike and I... we’re good.’
She wanted to call up Faith, the way she was used to, but Faith was currently somewhere in South America, and also what could she say?
‘So it’s like a vampire thing?’
So far she’d been to busy, trying to balance work and vampires, to actually think too deeply about the issues they kept dodging, but now she had untold time to worry.
And, for the first time, she began to seriously wonder if maybe she had jumped too quickly into a situation that she’d end up unable to deal with.
Chapter 2.
Also a Happy Birthday to frimfram - you are very missed.
Previous parts here. And lots of thanks to kathyh for the look-through.
Summary: There are always consequences.
Setting: Post-NFA. (And Buffy never dated The Immortal.)
Rating: Mild R.
Pairings: S/B/A.
Word count: Just under 1700 words.
Feedback: Yes please. :)
Disclaimer: I am not Joss and do not own these characters! [/obvious]
A/N: This is not the sequel I planned to write. Well - that’s not strictly true. I always knew the characters’ arc (Buffy’s specifically), and thus wrote a beginning and a few other bits & pieces, but no plot ever showed up, so I just let it be. And then no plot kept showing up, not even when I shared it with adoxerella and got some feedback, and in the end (since I promised her she could have it as birthday fic), I decided to just work with what I had. So. This fic has no plot as such, it just chronicles how the characters move forward. This, of course, turned out to be a pain (as I knew it would) once I started to poke it - seriously, not even my beta could work out what was happening, so I had to rearrange lots of bits and add things and hopefully it’ll flow now. Although it’ll take me a little while to string it together so you’ll only get the two first parts today. But it’s coming, promise. (Also it’s quite... dark [thematically, not graphically], and I never really wanted it to go that dark, but what with the prequels I had to deal with all that stuff, and so I’ve been extremely hesitant about sharing it.) And, um, that’s it. Enjoy!
ETA: OK, chapter 2 will have to be posted tomorrow. Sorry. Life happened... Also I forgot to mention that the banner (which I love to distraction) is by uglybusiness!
Chapter 1
June 2004, in a nightclub in London. Approximately five months before the start of Because Cavemen Have Fire.
Faith put her arm around Buffy’s shoulders and surveyed the club in concentrated silence before slowly nodding.
“Yeah - this place has got the stuff. Just the thing for a couple of girlfriends to let loose for a bit.”
She grinned at Buffy, and Buffy smiled back, shaking her head. “You’re not here to ‘let loose’ - you’re here to pull. I’m just being pulled.” A beat, then her brain caught up. “Along. Pulled along.”
Despite her swift amendment, Faith laughed heartily. “Hey - if that’s what you’re after B, then we could just skip the dancing altogether!”
“Shut up,” Buffy countered, and let her eyes pass over the heaving mass on the dance floor, the bright lights - all the couples, all the singles... She sighed and squared her shoulders. “And anyway,” she turned to Faith, “what happened to you and Robin? I thought you were - involved?”
Faith shrugged. “Nah. Well OK, yes - I mean he’s a great guy, and we had a lot of fun... he really opened my eyes about men to be honest. But - yours truly ain’t really ready to find Mr Right and settle down yet... just look at this place for starters - it’s like a frickin’ convenience store!”
And unwittingly her words drove a sudden knife through Buffy.
Convenient.
Closing her eyes she tried to suppress the whole issue - the ‘He came back to life!’, the ‘Why did he never call?’, the ‘Why did Andrew just this once keep a secret?’, the ‘Will there ever be another Mr Right?’...
Deep breath. Deep breath. Focus. Fun night out.
Opening her eyes she saw Faith studying her, a frown marring her forehead.
“I said something again, didn’t I?”
“No,” Buffy quickly replied, before immediately reversing her position. “Well yes, but it’s... I’ll deal. How do you do it?”
She knew that Faith had taken the news of The Big Thing in LA hard as well - she had sketched in a few details about her relations with Angel and Wesley, but was as unwilling to discuss it as Buffy was to discuss Spike... or Angel. So instead they did this - going out, losing themselves in battles or music or dancing or - in Faith’s case - the arms of random strangers.
“Sex, sweet girlfriend! It just helps take the mind off things - trust me, after a few years in the slammer you’d feel the same.”
Buffy shook her head and they set off down the stairs to the dance floor. She liked the theory, but so far there’d not been anyone tempting enough - no one who’d looked as though he could make her forget very specific arms and hands and kisses. And now, with her heart ripped out for the second time she doubted if it’d ever happen. Fighting seemed the better option by far - and there was some mission in Germany that Giles had mentioned yesterday, one of those where he looked all serious and was obviously assembling a large team armed to the teeth. She’d have to get in on that. For now, she would dance the night away and do her very best not to think of The Bronze and the vampire(s) she’d lost.
Letting go of conscious thought she let the music carry her away, noticing nothing but Faith and her abandon - Faith whose easy friendship and understanding helped keep her afloat. She never had to worry about Faith’s reaction to anything - never needed to explain herself.
Faith was a lifeline.
***
February 2005, same London nightclub.
The music wove through and around Buffy, its beat vibrating into every part of her, the strobe lights fragmenting and breaking on her skin, making the world spin. It was almost like a dream, except no dream could ever have been this incredible. Her arms were slung around the neck of a stunningly beautiful and utterly sensual creature, whose lips were whispering sweet, dirty little things in her ear, and whose hands were holding her ever so tightly against his hard body...
And then other hands intruded, twirling her away into a different embrace, and the pure sheer joy of it all was almost too much.
As she briefly looked around the crowded space, she recognised a small party of younger slayers - mouths and brows drawn in silent, cold disapproval - but nothing could dent her newfound happiness. She’d spent far too long worrying about the approval of others, and far too long mourning what she’d thought gone forever, to even pretend to care now.
Then the song segued into a slow, intimate number, and suddenly they were both there, fitting her between them perfectly - like the heart held between two hands on the ring Angel had once given her.
A shiver went through her as a low voice murmured in her ear, “Let’s go home...”
***
“Buffy...” Angel’s voice was patient, but with just a hint of an edge, “I need you to lie still.”
“Can’t,” she gasped, and then squirmed again. The man was unreasonable in the extreme in the bedroom - something she’d been discovering recently - and how anyone was supposed to keep still in this situation she had no idea.
She heard him sigh, and opening her eyes a fraction she could tell that he was now actually thinking about a solution. How was he able to do that? How could anyone be that... rational? She looked at him, the way the low lights highlighted the planes of his body and the faint perspiration catching the light - and all she wanted was to get up and lick him.
With Spike everything was intuitive, instinctive, forever going with the flow and pursuing every new avenue as it opened up. But Angel was methodical - which paid off, it was true, but it was often infuriating beforehand.
“Spike... get some rope.”
She could almost hear the grin that answered the command, but then all thoughts were forced out of her mind, as wave after wave of sensation took over.
How had she ever managed with just one lover?
***
It was well past midday the next day before they got up. But Spike and Angel were leaving on some kind of undercover mission (it had something to do with all their research, but they hadn’t elaborated and she hadn’t asked) and they needed to catch a train. There were a lot of long, lingering kisses and almost-tearfulness, because they’d never really been apart since she’d first found them (except for when Spike had run off) and Buffy felt all hollow when the door finally shut behind them.
Guess they’d proved that a person really could be in love with two people at the same time.
Needing something to occupy her she slowly started tidying. Also Dawn would be coming round tonight with her boyfriend and Buffy had promised to at least pretend to be all respectable.
It was as she rolled up the rope, a small smile forcing its way into the corner of her mouth - because last night really had been something special - that it suddenly hit her.
She looked at the rope, and then shook her head in disbelief, trying to remember exactly what had happened. But... unless she’d been even more out of it that she’d thought, there was no way around it: Angel had said ‘rope’ and Spike had fetched it. Without a single protest or argument. Not one.
And that was... impossible. As she carefully put the rope back in the weapons’ chest, she could almost hear the arguments still - arguments that had made her go almost insane recently. Two weeks of ‘rope versus cuffs’ - debated in every possible way, in every place and at any time... there’d even been some demon that they needed to question that had almost escaped because they started arguing over the best way of tying it down.
So... what was going on?
Making her way back into the bedroom, smoothing out the bedding and rearranging the pillows (not as neatly as Angel did it, but then she wasn’t that... fussy), her mind kept turning over the problem.
And then she realised what it was.
She blinked, then frowned and wondered if maybe she was going crazy, but no:
They never argued in bed.
Ever.
More than two months, and she could not recall a single instant of the two of them disagreeing on anything in the bedroom. True, more often than not they didn’t need words at all, working together like a well oiled machine - she silently groaned at the pun - but whenever something had cropped up, one or the other would just instantly fold.
Slowly she sank down onto the soft bedspread, taking on board this latest addition to the list she was trying very hard not to keep... The list of ‘Weird Things About Spike and Angel That They Never Talk About’.
It was a list that had snuck up on her unawares. At first everything had been more than fine, until Spike’s sudden flight had highlighted problems from the past that needed dealing with. And on that front they were doing quite well.
It was another front that was the problem now - and this one she didn’t know how to deal with. It was the one where her two vampires had known each other for one hundred plus years; the one where they were so much older, their pasts soaked in blood; the one where they had bonds that ran deeper than anything she could hope for; the one where she knew they’d been sleeping together and they refused to talk about it (except in a few stupid jokes over Christmas, trying to shock her friends); the one where she’d expected jealousy, and instead got... ‘Spike and I... we’re good.’
She wanted to call up Faith, the way she was used to, but Faith was currently somewhere in South America, and also what could she say?
‘So it’s like a vampire thing?’
So far she’d been to busy, trying to balance work and vampires, to actually think too deeply about the issues they kept dodging, but now she had untold time to worry.
And, for the first time, she began to seriously wonder if maybe she had jumped too quickly into a situation that she’d end up unable to deal with.
Chapter 2.