Ahhh lmbossy posted a wee spoilery pretty – I better post a chapter *g*
Chapter Two
“Why is my Watcher chained in up his tub?”
Spike winced at the high pitch of the Slayer’s voice as she shrieked at the top of her lungs. He clutched his head dramatically as he rolled off the couch and staggered to the bathroom, collapsing wearily against the doorframe. “Don’t let him go, Slayer!” he shouted. The slayer must’ve come in, gone straight to the bathroom and ignored him sleeping on the couch. With a new sense of urgency, he stomped through the archway and steadied himself on the wall briefly before he stumbled down the corridor to his old prison. “Oh, sodding hell. I am never drinking again…”
Buffy whirled around and pinned the hung over vampire with a steely glare. She folded her arms and tapped a stiletto shod foot. Her face was a mixture of anger and horror at the sight of her normally staid watcher dressed in suspiciously familiar clothes and reeking to high heaven. She cocked her head and eyed the ripped jeans: they looked scarily like a pair Spike owned. “Why not?”
“Cos it took me long enough last night to get the old bugger that pissed so I could chain him up.” Spike grimaced in pain as the irate Slayer smacked his already aching head and then popped him in the nose just to drive the point home. “Ow, you ungrateful mare! It’s not like I could bash him over the head and then tie him up, ruddy chip,” he complained under his breath.
“You got him pissed? Oh wait, isn’t that ‘English Speak’ for drunk? You got my Giles drunk and dressed him in those clothes?” She pointed distastefully at the ripped jeans. “Eww you perv! You saw Giles naked! And then chained him to the bath for what? Kicks?”
Spike gave her a dirty look. “No you silly bint, not for shits and giggles.” He groaned and clutched his head. “Oww, my bloody head.”
“No sympathy here.” Buffy smacked him again, spinning around with a flounce of her flowery chiffon summer dress. She knelt down and began to rattle the chains, trying to free her still unconscious Watcher. “I cannot believe you did this to Giles; you’re so petty with the revenge taking.”
“I said don’t do that,” Spike growled and lunged for the girl’s hands. He was tired out, having spent the night cleaning up the mess and then doing his laundry. By the end of it he’d felt like an undead Martha Stewart and had to have a bottle of JD to settle himself from that mental image. He’d left a message on Joyce’s voice mail asking for her to contact her daughter for him, but no one had called back or turned up. In the end he had passed out on the sofa to be woken up by the slayer’s not so dulcet tones screaming blue murder and going on like a fishwife.
Buffy let out something that sounded suspiciously like a growl and began to wrestle with Spike. While the two of them rolled around on the white tile floor, they were completely unaware of their now conscious and laughing observer.
“All you two need is some baby oil and you’d be set,” Ripper laughed as he eyed the taut golden backside of his exposed slayer, appreciative of her dress as it flipped up when she pinned Spike to the ground. She straddled the struggling vampire, and holding his hands over his head she ignored his whimpers of pain from the chip firing. Her braless breasts hovered temptingly over his face with only a thin layer of fabric covering them from his hopeful gaze. Buffy blew her tousled hair off her flushed face, and ignored the glazed expression on Spike’s face and the subtle rocking of his hips against the apex of her thighs. She risked a look over at her watcher and turned seven shades of red when she saw her Watcher eyeing her butt and practically drooling over himself.
“Oh my God! Giles!” Buffy shrieked and forgetting Spike, she leapt up and slapped her hands over her backside and backed away from the ogling man chained in the tub.
“Ripper,” Spike growled at the man and slowly stood. The assessing look in the man’s eyes filled him with disgusted rage. “She’s like a daughter to you, you bloody nonce! You’ll regret this when they fix you.” Spike stepped in front of Buffy and spread his duster out covering her form. Buffy blinked at the chivalrous behaviour of the vampire that was usually a pain in her ass. She mentally slapped herself for thinking of her butt. ‘Oh my God, Giles was so checking out my…’
Buffy’s eyes narrowed as her brain began to catch up with the events of the morning. She peeked around Spike at her Watcher, ignoring the two of them arguing over who was the dirtiest old man. Buffy took in her Watcher’s outfit; it seemed familiar. All Buffy could think of was her mom comparing Giles to a stevedore in the sack. Then her brain melted and she cringed. ‘Gross, he’s all Ripperfied again. Thank God Mom is out of town on a buying trip.’
“Ahh, wait, I know! You ate some leftover candy!” she squeaked and leapt around Spike and pinned Giles with an accusing glare. “And can I add ick, cos mouldy candy is so not good for you, Giles.”
“No Slayer, not candy.” Spike tried to edge in front of her, anything to cover her from the perv’s gaze. “Can’t you go and put a sweater on or something?” he added with a petulant tone. One thing he’d never expected was to be the protector of the Slayer’s virtue, but the way Ripper was staring at the girl’s boobs was starting to get on his nerves.
“But it’s too hot,” she answered pertly. Then Buffy noticed Giles checking her out again and crossed her arms nervously over her chest and shrank back behind Spike again.
“Nahh, let the girl alone. She’s as fresh as a daisy in her little frock, gives a bloke something to think about.” Ripper smirked at the now puce girl and rattled his chains as he tried to free himself. “As for you, Spike. I thought we were mates, but you’ve chained me in the bloody tub.”
Spike growled at the bound man. “Turnabout’s fair play.”
“God, you are just so gross.” Buffy gritted her teeth, stepped around Spike and punched Giles square between his creepy eyes and knocked him out. “Sorry Giles, but seriously, the whole drooling over me is just so wrong. And when we get you all better again I am so not putting up with the cleaning of glasses and stammering.” She shook her hand to ease the ache from the impact on Giles’ skull and stomped out of the bathroom, leaving Spike staring at her with undisguised admiration.
“You hit your Watcher! You bad girl, you’re gonna be written up as the naughtiest slayer ever,” Spike sing songed as he chased her out of the bathroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh my God! How long does it take to get here from campus?” Buffy paced up and down waiting for Willow and Tara to arrive. Spike was slouched in the armchair facing the room next to the fire, and watched her mutter under her breath about dirty old men. He’d tried to explain what had happened and she glared at him petulantly.
She’d rung Xander’s but only Anya had been there; he was on a construction job and was out of town until the weekend. Anya promised to come round and hung up muttering about how they weren’t even her friends and if it wasn’t for the orgasms she wouldn’t set foot near the crazy bunch until Xander was there to buffer the meeting. Buffy had then paged Willow. Both the Wicca’s were taking summer courses at UCS—Willow so she could get a head start on their second year and Tara because she wanted to be with Willow.
“There was a flash of light and then some guy came out?”
“Yeah, that’s wot happened, pet,” Spike replied patiently, which surprised the hell out of him. It was about the twentieth time she’d asked. If it had been anyone else he’d have ripped their heads off by now.
“Who was he?” Buffy demanded. Before he could reply, she whirled at the sound of a knock on the front door. “Finally.”
“Buggered if I know.” Spike shrugged and carried on doodling on the pad he’d stolen from Giles’s desk. He studiously ignored the petulant stare that Buffy directed at him as she flounced to the door.
“Spike, you’re like totally not helping,” Buffy muttered angrily as she pulled the door open and ushered Willow and Tara in. “Good, at last you’re here! I’ve been freaking out—which is so not fun when you’re on your own. Giles is all Band Candy weird again and Spike chained him in the tub—which I…guess we should be kind of grateful for. But we need to do something to get Giles back. Cos the whole Humbert Humbert routine is so gross and I am not punching him again, it’s just so wrong me hitting Giles.”
“Not sodding helping am I?” Spike leapt to his feet and glared at Buffy. “And since when have you cracked a book? Humbert Humbert?” He rolled his shoulders and stalked over to where the three girls were standing staring at him in all his Big Bad glory. “Ungrateful bint.”
“Heeey!” Willow smacked Spike on the elbow. “Don’t call her that. I know what the means, I checked.” She shook her head at the suddenly sheepish vampire. Satisfied with her chastising duty, Willow grabbed Buffy before she started pacing again and gently turned the worried slayer to face her. “What the frilly heck do you mean Giles is Band Candy weird? I thought that we got rid of all the bars. Cos Giles, with the whole teen rebellion thing again, is not good. Eyghon much!” Willow shuddered at the memories. “Did you say you hit Giles? Oh my God. Buffy you can’t hit Giles. That’s just…so bad.”
Buffy rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers lingering on the slightly raised scar, remembering the tattoo that had cost her a load of money to remove. She winced at Willow’s censure over the knocking out of her watcher but didn’t say anything, even though she thought Willow wouldn’t be so judgy if it had been her ass he’d been ogling. Instead she pulled the thick sweater Spike had forced upon her after they had left the bathroom around her slim form and hunched her shoulders.
Tara was staring out of the open door, a faint frown on her face. She reached behind her and caught hold of Willow’s free hand with hers and tugged it gently to get her attention. “Honey, can’t you feel that?” She pointed to the side of the front door, her face a picture of concern and worry. Something magical was hidden under the bush. Its power was throbbing through the atmosphere, making her stomach roil, and it was discordant and jarring.
Spike thrust the notepad he’d been scribbling on into Buffy’s hands and then went to peer over Tara’s head into the sunlight. He carefully avoided the direct light and watched as the red head started poking around in the bushes. “What is it?” He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, missing the small smile the shy blonde girl shot him. Despite listening to Willow and Xander rant on and on about Spike being evil and the whole bottle in the face incident, she had decided to draw her own conclusions about the irrepressible vampire.
And her conclusion was – she liked him.
In her opinion, there was much more to the vampire than the surface image of black leather, bleached hair and a blustery attitude; Tara sensed more to him. It was as if like were calling to like; she could feel an innate shyness deep within him and that had tempered her knee jerk reaction. He maybe a vampire, but to her he was a big softie. It was apparent in the unconscious glances of pure longing that he directed at Buffy. She doubted that either of the two blonds were even aware of the attraction zinging between them, and she wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten them. Buffy was still aching over Riley leaving Sunnydale after the whole Adam showdown; the solider had been unable to cope with the ramifications of being used as a test subject by a woman he had trusted with all his being. Maggie Walsh’s betrayal of his trust had created a deep change within Riley and he had decided a clean break from everything was the only way he would recover himself from the wreckage the Initiative had made of his life and career. Buffy had been a casualty of that decision, and she was still a bit sore over it. So Tara felt that if she announced Spike’s attraction to Willow’s best friend it might end in a dusting. She decided that it was something that the two of them would have to discover in their own time.
“Glinda, you okay?” Spike’s voice was filled with a soft concern that calmed her senses instantly.
“Somethings leaking out a load of power. It feels really odd…” Tara rubbed her hands together, trying to wash the miasma off her. “Willow, please don’t touch whatever it is with your bare skin, not until we can check it out.”
“Here.” Buffy knelt down next to Willow and gave her a pair of kitchen tongs she’d grabbed out of the kitchen utensil holder on the breakfast bar. “Use these.”
“Ohh, shiny.” Willow used the tongs to pick up a small gold oval coin and held it up to the light. There was an ethereal glow to the piece; the power was pouring off it, making her feel giddy and filling her with a euphoria that was giving her tingles all over.
“What is it?” Spike craned his neck, trying to make out the small object. It smelled of the same dark magicks that had surrounded the man last night and it made his fangs itch.
Willow and Buffy stood in unison and walked back into the apartment. Willow held the gold coin out in front of her and gingerly dropped it onto the table near the stairs. The four of them sat down carefully around the table and looked at it. The last time so many of them had been there was at the previous Thanksgiving debacle. Buffy absently placed the notepad in front of her and watched as Willow poked the gold charm with a pen with a curious frown on her face.
“There’s some major power coming from it. I wonder what it does?” The redhead was filled with fascination. Part of her was aching to pick it up, but Tara’s presence prevented her from doing so. If she had been alone then that coin would be in the palm of her hand no matter what the consequences. But then her attention was distracted; she nudged Buffy and pointed at the notepad.
Spike peered at the tiny etching on the gold disc. “Is that a goat’s head on a bloke’s body?” When no one answered him he looked up and saw that both Willow and Buffy were staring at the notepad with pale faces. Tara was focused on the coin, oblivious to the tension in her two friends.
“Spike, is this the guy you saw coming out of here last night?” Buffy’s voice sounded flat and distant as she pushed the pad into the centre of the table. Willow let out a shocked gasp as recognition dawned on her.
Spike glanced at the rough sketch he’d made of the man. “Yeah, that was the bloke. M’not as good with the creepy drawings Peaches liked to leave on beds, but it’s not too bad a likeness.” He shrugged.
Tara slid the pad out from under Buffy’s lax hand and turned it to face her. “Who is it?”
“Ethan Rayne.” Willow shook her head in surprise. “But I don’t get it. I thought the army took him into custody after the whole turning Giles into a demon thingie last year.”
Buffy’s full mouth was compressed in a thin line. “Me too. But then again, it’s not like Riley and Professor Walsh were totally honest with us.”
“So that’s the bloke that turned Giles into a Fyarl. Wonder what he did to Rupes this time.” Spike picked up the pen Willow had dropped and poked the coin. “I swear that looks like some sort of goat’s head. What’s on the other side?” He flipped the coin over using the nib of the pen, revealing an all too familiar image.
Willow gasped in surprise. “That’s Janus. It looks like the statue Giles smashed in the fancy dress shop—the one Ethan rented. Oh this is not good.” Willow prodded the coin. “Is that some kind of writing on the face and around the edges?”
Spike vamped out; his eyes were sharper when his demon was to the fore and he stared at the tiny writing. “Looks Celtic.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the front door slammed open and Anya flew into the room. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/160844.html
