Fic: Tekubi, Chapter 7
Don't faint or anything, but... I've got another chapter of Tekubi for you.
Previous chapters here: Tekubi, Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6.
"Last time on..."
Fred helps Buffy begin the process of transferring her UC Sunnydale credits to UCLA; Buffy gets Spike to touch her; Spike gets Angel to not hire him.
Thanks to rabid1st for the beta and suggestions - some of Angel's words are hers. Thanks also to all of you who commented on Chapter 6. :)
Tekubi, Chapter 7
By: caia
Beta: Rabid1st
Rating: R for now. May stray into NC-17 territory later due to subject matter, but those hoping for pr0n are likely to be disappointed.
Standard disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, just the story.
Distribution: Do not post elsewhere without permission. Ask, I may say yes.
Feedback: Craved. Praise and constructive criticism are welcome.
Harmony set down the handset down. "He's not answering."
"Try him at Buffy's," Angel instructed.
"I already did. There's no answer there, either."
"I'm going up." Angel strode purposefully towards the elevator.
Hesitantly, Harmony began, "Uh, are you sure..."
"I'm paying him to work here, the least he could do is answer his phone." The elevator doors closed on Angel's grim countenance.
"What was that?" Gunn asked as he arrived at Harmony's desk.
"There was no answer at Spike or Buffy's, so he's gone up to get Spike." Harmony's tone was slightly disgusted.
Gunn cast a speculative glance the way Angel had gone. "Did you mention that for those of us less than two centuries old, this could be considered date night, and there might be a good reason they're not answering their phones?"
"I tried. Whatever he sees is his own fault." Unconcerned, Harmony turned back to the enormous date book on her desk.
***
Angel paused in the hallway in between Spike and Buffy's doors. Hearing movement behind the left-hand one, he knocked on Spike's door, waited, and knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the knob, and finding it unlocked, opened the door.
The sight that met his eyes made him immediately sorry.
An oddly-attired Spike, swaggering and leering, was stalking a white nightie-clad Buffy around the couch. "Gonna get you, Wendy," he menaced.
"Stay away from me, Captain Hook," she giggled.
Angel goggled.
Then Buffy noticed Angel's presence. She shrieked and darted towards the bedroom.
Spike gave Angel an up-down look full of derision -- as if Angel were the one wearing a tricorn hat and breeches -- and curled his lip. The part of Angel's brain not suffering a catastrophic meltdown noted absently that this had always been one of Spike's most trying traits: the tendency to exude scorn and superiority when he should have been the shamed party.
"Get outta here, Tinkerbell," Spike sneered, then strolled into the bedroom.
Spike found Buffy with her face buried in the pillow. Her ears were pink. He set his pirate hat on the dresser, followed by the wig. "Did you see the lack of expression on Peaches' face?"
"I can't believe he saw us." Spike sidled up behind her on the bed and licked at her neck. "Stop." He drew back so quickly she felt a draft. "I can't, not now."
Spike sighed. "I suppose I should find it reassuring that the appearance of Tankerbell is a mood-killer."
That earned a soft snort of a laugh from the depths of the pillow. "Tankerbell?"
"He's a bit large for 'Tink', wouldn't you say?"
Buffy turned over. "Why did he come up here?"
"Dunno. S'pose I should go find out. There may be something needs killing." Compelled by the unfamiliar yoke of paid employment, Spike stood and set about shedding his coat and changing his breeches for jeans. He was pleased to note his increasing speed and ease in lacing up his boots. These necessaries accomplished, he sat back on the bed and regarded Buffy.
"I should go."
"Wait." Buffy sat up. "You wouldn't rather wear your saw?" She indicated the mostly decorative old-fashioned metal hook he'd donned for their game with a lift of her chin.
"Oh. Right." He yanked the hook off with his teeth and crossed to his cabinet full of prosthetics. He placed his chainsaw on the dresser and wrestled with attaching it for a few moments before Buffy interrupted.
"Let me." She set about doing up the fastenings.
As she concentrated on her task, Spike studied her face for any signs of distaste or unease. He found none. The moment was as simple and intimate as a woman fixing her lover's necktie for him.
"There. All set." She gave him a quick kiss. "Get going."
On his way to the door, he turned back. "You ok?"
"Oh yeah. Mortally embarrassed, but other than that..."
"Could have been worse. He could have caught us bare-arsed and bouncy." He dodged back a step as she fake-lunged at him. "He'll recover," he assured her as he left. "Eventually."
***
"Are you ok?" Harmony wasn't normally one to inquire after others' well-being, but she'd never seen Angel look quite so poleaxed as he had wandering back to her desk just now.
"It was horrible... unnatural..." Angel was staring into space as if at some terrible vision.
"What? Demon? Hellbeast?" Wesley inquired. The rest of the former AI team had congregated during Angel's absence.
Gunn muttered something about, 'try beast with two backs,' but Angel didn't appear to hear him.
"It was... Disney perverted." Angel sat heavily on Harmony's desk. She dove to rescue a few cups of pens as they tipped over. "It's a family movie... with the singing... and Nana..." He made a hand motion like the bounding of dog when he said 'Nana'. "I'll never be able to watch Mary Martin again."
Wesley was the first to grasp what Angel was free-associating about. "I take it Spike was playing Captain Hook?" he asked, looking down at the desk blotter to hide a grin.
Angel nodded dumbly.
"And I'm guessing Buffy was there too," Lorne posited.
"... Wendy," Angel managed in a small voice.
Wesley and Gunn tried to hide their snickers in each other's shoulders. Lorne trilled, "Now think of the happiest things. It's the same as having wings." That brought Angel out of his daze, and he glared at them.
Harmony huffed. "That's nothing. You should've seen how he used to ask me to dress up."
"I'm not gonna ask," Angel muttered.
"How did he have you dress up?" Gunn spoke over Angel.
"As the Slayer."
"I didn't want to know."
"Oh look, it's the Lost Boys." Spike sauntered up, not looking the slightest bit ashamed. With feigned concern, he added, "Angelus, you look peaked, are you alright?" Closing his eyes tightly, Spike clapped his wrists and recited, "I do believe in fairies, I do, I do."
***
Buffy was waiting for Spike at his place a few days later when she heard what sounded like a dutiful knock. The peephole revealed a fidgety Angel. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the door in defeat.
She still couldn't believe Angel had caught them at their game. It hadn't even really been a sex game. Ok, so it probably would have ended in sex, because any game of tag, ping-pong, or pinochle was likely to end in sex with her and Spike. But the costumes had been a joke. She'd called Spike 'Captain Hook' once, and following a few more rounds of banter, he'd answered the door that day in full Captain Hook regalia. After she'd finished laughing her head off, refusing to put on a demure white sleeveless nightie, when he'd had buckles on his shoes and a black, British judge-style wig, would have seemed like being a bad sport. It was more or less innocent fun, of the sort she hadn't had in far too long.
Now Angel probably thought she was a kinky pervert who got off on being ravished by Disney villains. Which, ok, maybe she was a kinky pervert, and ravishing was good, and maybe the villains thing too sometimes, but Disney, that was just...
"Hi," Buffy chirped as she opened the door.
Angel nodded, and entered as hesitantly as she let him in.
Could this be more awkward? "Here to see Spike?"
"Yes."
Of course he was, this was Spike's apartment. A distinction that had nearly disappeared for her by now.
"Do you expect him soon?"
It was her turn to nod.
Spike may have been incapable of shame, but Buffy wasn't. Despite what she considered significant growth as a person over the past couple years, she still couldn't quite dismiss others' opinions of her love life. And this was Angel, the former love of her life, and her first. She couldn't quite meet his eyes.
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Angel remarked, "It looks like you're enjoying Spike."
Buffy's eyes widened. "No. Not the way you think. Once, maybe, but not now. And yes, we enjoy each other."
"So I see."
Of course, she could quickly get over her embarrassment when he took that tone with her. "You want to not see it, you can learn to knock."
"Buffy -- "
"Seriously. I know you're CEO here and all, but that doesn't make all the rooms your rooms. Do I have to start living with Spike so you need an invite to barge in on him?" Brazen it out, that was the ticket.
"Why didn't you lock the door?" He switched gears abruptly. "You'd consider living with him?"
"Why not? And, I didn't think we had to."
"Why wouldn't you have to? ...Seriously?"
Buffy indulged an old habit, rolling her eyes. "Can we have one discussion at a time, please? I didn't think I had to lock the door because this place's security goons would catch almost any demon or baddie I'd worry might come looking for us. Besides the ones who work here," she added pointedly. "The ones they wouldn't, wouldn't be stopped by a deadbolt anyway. Spike leaves the door unlocked for me at all hours, so I didn't think it mattered.
"And yes, I'd live with him. I practically do already."
Angel seemed taken aback. "You would."
Buffy gave him an exasperated look.
"I didn't realize it was that serious."
"You... what did you think this was, with me and Spike? Just a casual fling? Passing the time?"
Angel shrugged.
She opened her mouth, shut it again, then said haltingly, "He got a soul for me." She'd known this since that night in the church, but she fleetingly realized this might have been the first time she'd stated it out loud. "If I wanted casual, I'd have stayed in Rome and taken up with some mimbo."
"Oh."
"What's that, 'oh'?"
"Well, if this thing between you was serious, then why did you kiss me when I came to Sunnydale?"
"Oh. That 'oh'." Buffy dropped her gaze. This wasn't easy to explain; she hadn't even understood herself at the time. And she didn't think she'd come out of this explanation looking particularly good. "What I felt... what I was beginning to feel, for Spike... it scared me. It was new, and huge, and happening at entirely the wrong time. And then you were there, and what I felt for you didn't scare me. It was safe, and familiar, and comforting. I wanted that back, I think. I wanted to be the me I was when you lived in Sunnydale. It made it easier, for a little bit."
"And the 'someday, maybe, I'm just cookie dough' speech?"
Buffy covered her face with hands for a second, then dropped them. "Not one of my better metaphors."
"You have better metaphors?"
"Watch it, mister. I didn't know if I would see you again. I wanted to leave you with the memory of some hope. You were all cranky when you thought I was rejecting you for Spike. But you weren't exactly pining for me, were you?"
It was Angel's turn to look sheepish.
A terrible thought struck Buffy. "You're not... you're not just passing the time with Nina, are you?" 'Waiting for me?'
Angel shook his head. "No, I'm not. I thought it would be casual, but then it wasn't. I'd had a rough year, and I wasn't looking for a relationship. I didn't think I could... care for somebody new. It took me off guard," he admitted. He eyed Buffy cautiously, concerned how she'd respond to him talking this way about another woman.
Buffy just smiled broadly. "I know the feeling."
The silence was a little more companionable this time.
"You and Spike, it's kind of strange, don't you think?" Angel had to ask. "From what Harmony said, he must have had a thing for you from way back."
"Right, and the trying to kill me thing was just a vampiric way of showing affection. He -- wait, what did Harmony say?"
Her sudden change in tone alerted Angel to the potential danger in this conversation. "Nothing! I just mentioned you were... playing dress-up, and she said..."
"You told Harmony?" Buffy threw her hands in the air. "How is it that when I was completely indiscreet for months, none of my friends caught on, but when I'm getting my naughty on in the privacy of an actual apartment, I get caught at it and gossiped about?"
"I can't really answer that."
"Rhetorical question. And why on Earth would you tell Harmony? That's not rhetorical, by the way."
"Well, it wasn't...," Angel trailed away, his eyes going deer-in-headlight as Buffy's narrowed dangerously. "Just her?" he finished meekly.
"Who," Buffy demanded without upward inflection.
"Wes was there. And Gunn. Well, and Lorne. But that's it. Trina from Accounting might have..."
Buffy advanced on Angel, and he involuntarily backed up.
"See, the thing you have to understand is, I was traumatized."
"No. Not yet," she menaced.
The door to the apartment shut with a mild slam. "Hey," Spike interjected, "you can't beat up Angel." He sounded almost hurt, until he added wickedly, "unless I get to watch." He crossed the room and hopped up to sit on the peninsular counter between the kitchenette and the living room. "I'm here, go ahead."
The interruption caused Buffy to relax, and the dangerous light went out of her eyes. "I'm not going to beat him up."
"Damn right. She doesn't have that kind of relationship with you anymore, mate."
"Spike, shut up. Nobody's going to get beat up."
"Even if I ask nicely?" Spike asked hopefully.
Buffy ignored this. "Angel's going to go back downstairs and explain to everyone he told about what he saw that he was hallucinating, and he will need their support to help him lay off the crack pipe."
"I don't really think that will work," Angel objected hesitantly.
Buffy waved him off. "Whatever. Just, get out of here."
Angel beat a hasty retreat.
Buffy crossed to stand between Spike's sprawled legs, and let her head thunk against his chest. He put an arm around her soothingly. "I really need to get out of this place. It's just too weird for me to be here. Angel seems to think the whole building is his personal fiefdom."
The arm went away. Buffy straightened. "Yeah, ok. You have an idea what sort of place you want?" Spike's expression was carefully neutral.
"I dunno. I don't really know what's out there. I can set my sights a little higher than the last time I lived in L.A." That got a quizzical look, but she shook her head, not wanting to get into the story. "Something nearby." That earned a slight smile from him. "A second bedroom would be good, so Dawn could come and visit. Not too much natural light, obviously. A garden apartment, maybe?"
"You shouldn't have to do that."
"Why bother paying for windows we'll just keep covered all the time?"
"Not all the time."
"We're both night owls."
"True."
"So you don't mind?"
"Well, I'll miss having you across the hall, but as long as I've got an invitation..."
Buffy was giving him a 'you doofus' expression. "Across the hall. You wouldn't rather have me across the bed? And please don't take that the pervy way."
Ordinarily, Spike would have been constitutionally unable to take it any other way, but at the moment he was too caught up in what she was suggesting to perv. "So this place you wanna get, it would be -- "
"Ours."
"Really?"
She wasn't sure what to make of his incredulous tone. "We haven't slept apart in weeks, why would you think I'd want to now?"
"It's a big step."
Buffy's latent relationship insecurity belatedly kicked in. "You don't want to. You think it's too soon."
"Didn't say that. It's a bloody dream come true. Just want you to be sure."
"I am. It's not like I've never lived with you before."
"This time you'll just be joining me in the basement."
"Don't say basement, the term is 'garden apartment.'"
"I think the term is 'living together.' You up for that?"
"You gonna argue with me about it?"
"Not that dumb."
[ Continue to chapter 8]
Please let me know what you think.
Previous chapters here: Tekubi, Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6.
"Last time on..."
Fred helps Buffy begin the process of transferring her UC Sunnydale credits to UCLA; Buffy gets Spike to touch her; Spike gets Angel to not hire him.
Thanks to rabid1st for the beta and suggestions - some of Angel's words are hers. Thanks also to all of you who commented on Chapter 6. :)
Tekubi, Chapter 7
By: caia
Beta: Rabid1st
Rating: R for now. May stray into NC-17 territory later due to subject matter, but those hoping for pr0n are likely to be disappointed.
Standard disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, just the story.
Distribution: Do not post elsewhere without permission. Ask, I may say yes.
Feedback: Craved. Praise and constructive criticism are welcome.
Harmony set down the handset down. "He's not answering."
"Try him at Buffy's," Angel instructed.
"I already did. There's no answer there, either."
"I'm going up." Angel strode purposefully towards the elevator.
Hesitantly, Harmony began, "Uh, are you sure..."
"I'm paying him to work here, the least he could do is answer his phone." The elevator doors closed on Angel's grim countenance.
"What was that?" Gunn asked as he arrived at Harmony's desk.
"There was no answer at Spike or Buffy's, so he's gone up to get Spike." Harmony's tone was slightly disgusted.
Gunn cast a speculative glance the way Angel had gone. "Did you mention that for those of us less than two centuries old, this could be considered date night, and there might be a good reason they're not answering their phones?"
"I tried. Whatever he sees is his own fault." Unconcerned, Harmony turned back to the enormous date book on her desk.
***
Angel paused in the hallway in between Spike and Buffy's doors. Hearing movement behind the left-hand one, he knocked on Spike's door, waited, and knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the knob, and finding it unlocked, opened the door.
The sight that met his eyes made him immediately sorry.
An oddly-attired Spike, swaggering and leering, was stalking a white nightie-clad Buffy around the couch. "Gonna get you, Wendy," he menaced.
"Stay away from me, Captain Hook," she giggled.
Angel goggled.
Then Buffy noticed Angel's presence. She shrieked and darted towards the bedroom.
Spike gave Angel an up-down look full of derision -- as if Angel were the one wearing a tricorn hat and breeches -- and curled his lip. The part of Angel's brain not suffering a catastrophic meltdown noted absently that this had always been one of Spike's most trying traits: the tendency to exude scorn and superiority when he should have been the shamed party.
"Get outta here, Tinkerbell," Spike sneered, then strolled into the bedroom.
Spike found Buffy with her face buried in the pillow. Her ears were pink. He set his pirate hat on the dresser, followed by the wig. "Did you see the lack of expression on Peaches' face?"
"I can't believe he saw us." Spike sidled up behind her on the bed and licked at her neck. "Stop." He drew back so quickly she felt a draft. "I can't, not now."
Spike sighed. "I suppose I should find it reassuring that the appearance of Tankerbell is a mood-killer."
That earned a soft snort of a laugh from the depths of the pillow. "Tankerbell?"
"He's a bit large for 'Tink', wouldn't you say?"
Buffy turned over. "Why did he come up here?"
"Dunno. S'pose I should go find out. There may be something needs killing." Compelled by the unfamiliar yoke of paid employment, Spike stood and set about shedding his coat and changing his breeches for jeans. He was pleased to note his increasing speed and ease in lacing up his boots. These necessaries accomplished, he sat back on the bed and regarded Buffy.
"I should go."
"Wait." Buffy sat up. "You wouldn't rather wear your saw?" She indicated the mostly decorative old-fashioned metal hook he'd donned for their game with a lift of her chin.
"Oh. Right." He yanked the hook off with his teeth and crossed to his cabinet full of prosthetics. He placed his chainsaw on the dresser and wrestled with attaching it for a few moments before Buffy interrupted.
"Let me." She set about doing up the fastenings.
As she concentrated on her task, Spike studied her face for any signs of distaste or unease. He found none. The moment was as simple and intimate as a woman fixing her lover's necktie for him.
"There. All set." She gave him a quick kiss. "Get going."
On his way to the door, he turned back. "You ok?"
"Oh yeah. Mortally embarrassed, but other than that..."
"Could have been worse. He could have caught us bare-arsed and bouncy." He dodged back a step as she fake-lunged at him. "He'll recover," he assured her as he left. "Eventually."
***
"Are you ok?" Harmony wasn't normally one to inquire after others' well-being, but she'd never seen Angel look quite so poleaxed as he had wandering back to her desk just now.
"It was horrible... unnatural..." Angel was staring into space as if at some terrible vision.
"What? Demon? Hellbeast?" Wesley inquired. The rest of the former AI team had congregated during Angel's absence.
Gunn muttered something about, 'try beast with two backs,' but Angel didn't appear to hear him.
"It was... Disney perverted." Angel sat heavily on Harmony's desk. She dove to rescue a few cups of pens as they tipped over. "It's a family movie... with the singing... and Nana..." He made a hand motion like the bounding of dog when he said 'Nana'. "I'll never be able to watch Mary Martin again."
Wesley was the first to grasp what Angel was free-associating about. "I take it Spike was playing Captain Hook?" he asked, looking down at the desk blotter to hide a grin.
Angel nodded dumbly.
"And I'm guessing Buffy was there too," Lorne posited.
"... Wendy," Angel managed in a small voice.
Wesley and Gunn tried to hide their snickers in each other's shoulders. Lorne trilled, "Now think of the happiest things. It's the same as having wings." That brought Angel out of his daze, and he glared at them.
Harmony huffed. "That's nothing. You should've seen how he used to ask me to dress up."
"I'm not gonna ask," Angel muttered.
"How did he have you dress up?" Gunn spoke over Angel.
"As the Slayer."
"I didn't want to know."
"Oh look, it's the Lost Boys." Spike sauntered up, not looking the slightest bit ashamed. With feigned concern, he added, "Angelus, you look peaked, are you alright?" Closing his eyes tightly, Spike clapped his wrists and recited, "I do believe in fairies, I do, I do."
***
Buffy was waiting for Spike at his place a few days later when she heard what sounded like a dutiful knock. The peephole revealed a fidgety Angel. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the door in defeat.
She still couldn't believe Angel had caught them at their game. It hadn't even really been a sex game. Ok, so it probably would have ended in sex, because any game of tag, ping-pong, or pinochle was likely to end in sex with her and Spike. But the costumes had been a joke. She'd called Spike 'Captain Hook' once, and following a few more rounds of banter, he'd answered the door that day in full Captain Hook regalia. After she'd finished laughing her head off, refusing to put on a demure white sleeveless nightie, when he'd had buckles on his shoes and a black, British judge-style wig, would have seemed like being a bad sport. It was more or less innocent fun, of the sort she hadn't had in far too long.
Now Angel probably thought she was a kinky pervert who got off on being ravished by Disney villains. Which, ok, maybe she was a kinky pervert, and ravishing was good, and maybe the villains thing too sometimes, but Disney, that was just...
"Hi," Buffy chirped as she opened the door.
Angel nodded, and entered as hesitantly as she let him in.
Could this be more awkward? "Here to see Spike?"
"Yes."
Of course he was, this was Spike's apartment. A distinction that had nearly disappeared for her by now.
"Do you expect him soon?"
It was her turn to nod.
Spike may have been incapable of shame, but Buffy wasn't. Despite what she considered significant growth as a person over the past couple years, she still couldn't quite dismiss others' opinions of her love life. And this was Angel, the former love of her life, and her first. She couldn't quite meet his eyes.
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Angel remarked, "It looks like you're enjoying Spike."
Buffy's eyes widened. "No. Not the way you think. Once, maybe, but not now. And yes, we enjoy each other."
"So I see."
Of course, she could quickly get over her embarrassment when he took that tone with her. "You want to not see it, you can learn to knock."
"Buffy -- "
"Seriously. I know you're CEO here and all, but that doesn't make all the rooms your rooms. Do I have to start living with Spike so you need an invite to barge in on him?" Brazen it out, that was the ticket.
"Why didn't you lock the door?" He switched gears abruptly. "You'd consider living with him?"
"Why not? And, I didn't think we had to."
"Why wouldn't you have to? ...Seriously?"
Buffy indulged an old habit, rolling her eyes. "Can we have one discussion at a time, please? I didn't think I had to lock the door because this place's security goons would catch almost any demon or baddie I'd worry might come looking for us. Besides the ones who work here," she added pointedly. "The ones they wouldn't, wouldn't be stopped by a deadbolt anyway. Spike leaves the door unlocked for me at all hours, so I didn't think it mattered.
"And yes, I'd live with him. I practically do already."
Angel seemed taken aback. "You would."
Buffy gave him an exasperated look.
"I didn't realize it was that serious."
"You... what did you think this was, with me and Spike? Just a casual fling? Passing the time?"
Angel shrugged.
She opened her mouth, shut it again, then said haltingly, "He got a soul for me." She'd known this since that night in the church, but she fleetingly realized this might have been the first time she'd stated it out loud. "If I wanted casual, I'd have stayed in Rome and taken up with some mimbo."
"Oh."
"What's that, 'oh'?"
"Well, if this thing between you was serious, then why did you kiss me when I came to Sunnydale?"
"Oh. That 'oh'." Buffy dropped her gaze. This wasn't easy to explain; she hadn't even understood herself at the time. And she didn't think she'd come out of this explanation looking particularly good. "What I felt... what I was beginning to feel, for Spike... it scared me. It was new, and huge, and happening at entirely the wrong time. And then you were there, and what I felt for you didn't scare me. It was safe, and familiar, and comforting. I wanted that back, I think. I wanted to be the me I was when you lived in Sunnydale. It made it easier, for a little bit."
"And the 'someday, maybe, I'm just cookie dough' speech?"
Buffy covered her face with hands for a second, then dropped them. "Not one of my better metaphors."
"You have better metaphors?"
"Watch it, mister. I didn't know if I would see you again. I wanted to leave you with the memory of some hope. You were all cranky when you thought I was rejecting you for Spike. But you weren't exactly pining for me, were you?"
It was Angel's turn to look sheepish.
A terrible thought struck Buffy. "You're not... you're not just passing the time with Nina, are you?" 'Waiting for me?'
Angel shook his head. "No, I'm not. I thought it would be casual, but then it wasn't. I'd had a rough year, and I wasn't looking for a relationship. I didn't think I could... care for somebody new. It took me off guard," he admitted. He eyed Buffy cautiously, concerned how she'd respond to him talking this way about another woman.
Buffy just smiled broadly. "I know the feeling."
The silence was a little more companionable this time.
"You and Spike, it's kind of strange, don't you think?" Angel had to ask. "From what Harmony said, he must have had a thing for you from way back."
"Right, and the trying to kill me thing was just a vampiric way of showing affection. He -- wait, what did Harmony say?"
Her sudden change in tone alerted Angel to the potential danger in this conversation. "Nothing! I just mentioned you were... playing dress-up, and she said..."
"You told Harmony?" Buffy threw her hands in the air. "How is it that when I was completely indiscreet for months, none of my friends caught on, but when I'm getting my naughty on in the privacy of an actual apartment, I get caught at it and gossiped about?"
"I can't really answer that."
"Rhetorical question. And why on Earth would you tell Harmony? That's not rhetorical, by the way."
"Well, it wasn't...," Angel trailed away, his eyes going deer-in-headlight as Buffy's narrowed dangerously. "Just her?" he finished meekly.
"Who," Buffy demanded without upward inflection.
"Wes was there. And Gunn. Well, and Lorne. But that's it. Trina from Accounting might have..."
Buffy advanced on Angel, and he involuntarily backed up.
"See, the thing you have to understand is, I was traumatized."
"No. Not yet," she menaced.
The door to the apartment shut with a mild slam. "Hey," Spike interjected, "you can't beat up Angel." He sounded almost hurt, until he added wickedly, "unless I get to watch." He crossed the room and hopped up to sit on the peninsular counter between the kitchenette and the living room. "I'm here, go ahead."
The interruption caused Buffy to relax, and the dangerous light went out of her eyes. "I'm not going to beat him up."
"Damn right. She doesn't have that kind of relationship with you anymore, mate."
"Spike, shut up. Nobody's going to get beat up."
"Even if I ask nicely?" Spike asked hopefully.
Buffy ignored this. "Angel's going to go back downstairs and explain to everyone he told about what he saw that he was hallucinating, and he will need their support to help him lay off the crack pipe."
"I don't really think that will work," Angel objected hesitantly.
Buffy waved him off. "Whatever. Just, get out of here."
Angel beat a hasty retreat.
Buffy crossed to stand between Spike's sprawled legs, and let her head thunk against his chest. He put an arm around her soothingly. "I really need to get out of this place. It's just too weird for me to be here. Angel seems to think the whole building is his personal fiefdom."
The arm went away. Buffy straightened. "Yeah, ok. You have an idea what sort of place you want?" Spike's expression was carefully neutral.
"I dunno. I don't really know what's out there. I can set my sights a little higher than the last time I lived in L.A." That got a quizzical look, but she shook her head, not wanting to get into the story. "Something nearby." That earned a slight smile from him. "A second bedroom would be good, so Dawn could come and visit. Not too much natural light, obviously. A garden apartment, maybe?"
"You shouldn't have to do that."
"Why bother paying for windows we'll just keep covered all the time?"
"Not all the time."
"We're both night owls."
"True."
"So you don't mind?"
"Well, I'll miss having you across the hall, but as long as I've got an invitation..."
Buffy was giving him a 'you doofus' expression. "Across the hall. You wouldn't rather have me across the bed? And please don't take that the pervy way."
Ordinarily, Spike would have been constitutionally unable to take it any other way, but at the moment he was too caught up in what she was suggesting to perv. "So this place you wanna get, it would be -- "
"Ours."
"Really?"
She wasn't sure what to make of his incredulous tone. "We haven't slept apart in weeks, why would you think I'd want to now?"
"It's a big step."
Buffy's latent relationship insecurity belatedly kicked in. "You don't want to. You think it's too soon."
"Didn't say that. It's a bloody dream come true. Just want you to be sure."
"I am. It's not like I've never lived with you before."
"This time you'll just be joining me in the basement."
"Don't say basement, the term is 'garden apartment.'"
"I think the term is 'living together.' You up for that?"
"You gonna argue with me about it?"
"Not that dumb."
[ Continue to chapter 8]
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