Willow and Buffy were walking through the business district of Sunnydale, arguing between themselves over the merits of instant dessert versus homemade while Angel and Spike were following some distance behind them. They were not close enough to be detected by Buffy’s slayer senses, but enough to hear the girls chatter.
“But you have whipped cream,” Willow whined. “I saw it in Giles’ fridge.” When she agreed with Buffy to go ahead and have Thanksgiving dinner, she had not counted on actually making everything from scratch. What the hell was Buffy thinking anyway?
“But that’s whipped cream in a canister. It’s only right if you whip it yourself,” Buffy told her friend. She wanted an old fashioned Thanksgiving dinner and she was going to get it, damn it!
Willow’s face lit up. “Hey, and then later, we can churn our own butter and make sweaters out of sheep,” she said sarcastically, hopefully driving home the point of how ridiculous Buffy was being about this dinner.
“Okay. It’s the last thing. I promise. Besides, I have to get back and check on the other stuff that I left cooking at Giles’. I hope he hasn’t tried to taste-test anything,” Buffy conceded.
The two vampires looked at each other as they listened to Buffy drone on about her dinner plans. The girl was really serious about having everything homemade, right down to the cobbler. Here
it was the twentieth century and Buffy’s talking about things women had to do because there wasn’t a luxury such as microwave ovens back then.
Spike snickered to himself. “She’s bloody well serious about this, mate.”
“It would seem so,” Angel agreed, tilting his head and looking at his ex-girlfriend.
When a boy stepped up to the two girls, Angel grabbed Spike’s arm halting the blonde beside him. “Who’s that?” Angel inquired.
“I don’t know,” Spike answered.
They hung back in the shadows and listened to the conversation for a moment. Angel had pushed Spike out of the street and into the shadows of a building. Spike was pressed back against the wall with Angel in front of him, standing a breath apart as their enhanced hearing picked up Buffy’s conversation.
The closeness of his Sire was wreaking havoc on Spike’s senses. Angel’s natural scent floated around him inflaming his arousal. He never thought his Sire could get him to react like that again after a century apart. Angel was facing away from him, watching the conversation and giving Spike a perfect profile view of his bone structure illuminated in the moonlight.
Spike’s ardor rose at the thought that after all this time, he was so close to his Sire that he could reach out and touch him. What the hell was he thinking, anyway? The friggin’ Sire-claim had him utterly confused. After a century of abandonment by his Sire, he should not want to be even remotely intimate with Angel at all.
Angel was fairing no better as he tried to concentrate on Buffy and Willow talking to the strange boy. He could smell the strong aroma of Spike’s arousal. It was teasing his demon senses. Angelus was growling inside him to properly reclaim his boy right here up against a brick wall as if a century hadn’t passed between them. It took all of his willpower to tamp down the urge to follow through and focus on what was going on.
Riley Finn, a teacher’s aide of the girls’ psych Professor, had caught up with them from out of nowhere. “Buffy? Hey.”
“Riley? Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you at all,” Buffy inquired looking around to see where he had been hiding.
“Oh, just across the street . . . and a couple of blocks down,” Riley said, throwing his thumb in a general direction. “Hey, Willow.” He smiled as he acknowledged the small redhead.
“Hi,” Willow greeted him with a small wave. “Well, I’m just going to let you two . . .” Willow trailed off as she turned to see a small diner. “Oh, look! They’re selling coffee in the coffee shop. Yum.”
Willow turned and practically abandoned Buffy to deal with Riley alone as she literally ran into the diner. In escaping the tense moment caused by Buffy and the TA, Willow wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and ran right smack into Angel. He grabbed her and Spike covered her mouth with his hand. She stared wide-eyed at both Spike and Angel together. Spike and Angel? Together? That can’t be a good combination. Then it dawned on her that she was trapped between the both of them.
“Oh my Goddess! Angel, Spike – evil! You’re all evil again!” Willow exclaimed, but with Spike’s hand over her mouth it came out garbled.
“We’re not evil. I’m here to help Buffy,” Angel assured her when she gave him a confused look. He released Willow and Spike dropped his hand from her mouth.
“It’s true, luv. He still has his soul,” Spike smirked at the redhead.
“What’s going on?” Willow asked, as she looked skeptical between the two of them. She had snuck into Giles office on more than one occasion and she had read the watcher’s diaries enough to know that when Angelus and William the Bloody were friendly with each other it was never for the good.
“A friend of mine had a vision that said Buffy’s in danger,” Angel told the witch.
At that moment Spike got an image of the Batman signal lighting up the sky and the dark avenger running to save the day. It made him chuckle which drew a puzzled glance from Willow and a frown from Angel. He shook his head and waved them off.
Willow turned her attention back to Angel. “So tell her about it . . . help her,” she said.
“If she sees me, it’ll be worse,” Angel said mournfully.
Both Willow and Spike rolled their eyes at Angel. Always the tortured soul was the man in front of them. He’d rather sit and brood heavily and skulk around instead of facing Buffy honestly and dealing with it. He left her a year ago, why did he have to make it so difficult for himself?
Willow shook her head bewildered. “See, I don’t get that. All this ‘leaving for her own good’ crap. Because that’s what it is. You can’t just give up because there are obstacles in the way. What kind of--”
“Don’t even bother trying to understand it, Red,” Spike interrupted her. “Angel likes to do things the hard way. He always did, even when he was evil.”
“Yeah, but--” Willow started to counter.
“Willow, Spike,” Angel interrupted them.
“Sorry. My stuff,” Willow pouted in apology.
“You know how I feel about her. If there was any way . . .” Angel started before Spike drew his attention again.
Spike tried coughing to hide the bursts of laughter bubbling up from his chest. He knew Angel was burdened by his soul, but to watch the whole thing play out like this? It was bloody priceless! If this was one of Angelus’ acts, it was Oscar-worthy. Too bad the ponce had a soul. He was genuinely broken up about the girl who was not only the killer of their kind, but the stupid bint had sent him to Hell after Red had stuck a soul back into him. Spike gave the Slayer props for knowing her craft, but she sent his Sire into a hell dimension when all she needed to close the vortex was some of his blood, not all of it. Maybe that watcher of hers was lax in his duties to instruct her properly? Or maybe she was a little miffed with the whole trying to send the world into hell thing. Either way, it hadn’t needed to go down like that.
Angel glared pointedly at Spike before telling Willow, “It’s just . . . everything’s different now.”
Willow’s mind jumped topics when a thought struck her. “Hey, is Cordelia really working for you? ‘Cause that’s got to be a special experience. Of all the people you could’ve hired?”
Angel’s brow furrowed. “Willow. I’m here to protect Buffy. I don’t have a whole lot of time for personal stuff.”
Spike cocked his head at his Sire. Was he serious or just playing to the witch? Because sharing a bed with Angel again seemed pretty personal to him. Just like Angel renewing the Sire-claim on him was intimately personal, and making him return to Sunnydale to watch over his ex-tumble even though he still showed up now to do the same thing, seemed personal to Spike. Angel pointedly ignored him as he concentrated on the task at hand.
“Right. Well, how can I help?” Willow offered.
“I need you to get Spike invited to that Thanksgiving dinner. He can help out when or if the time comes,” Angel told her.
Spike was staring out the window of the diner watching Buffy talk to Riley with a half an ear to Angel’s conversation. “Red, luv, who’s that guy?”
Willow followed Spike’s line of vision. “Oh. That’s Riley Finn. He’s one of the TA’s at the college. Psychology 101.”
She watched the reaction of both vampires as their eyes flickered between their natural color and that of the demon. For some reason, Riley hadn’t set well with them. A notion that was established when she heard twin low growls.
Angel and Spike thanked Willow and turned on their heels and walked away, their long coats swelling around them as they sauntered out of the diner. They kept to the shadows until they got to a cross street.
“So what’s the plan?” Spike asked his Sire as he used his keen eyesight to scan the vicinity.
“I’m going to the museum to have a look around. See if I can find any clues. I need you to go see Father Gabriel and find out if he knows anything useful about the Chumash tribe,” Angel instructed. He turned to leave, but then retraced his steps back to stand in front of Spike again, just barely touching. “And Spike, get information out of him, not blood.”
“Oh, come on. You’re ruining the whole ‘torture the victim for information’ plot I was thinking of, Peaches,” Spike pouted.
Had he not seen the smirk that went with that statement, Angel would have thought Spike was serious. The last thing he needed was to have unchecked progeny roaming the streets, helping to increase the body count with those commando college boys patrolling the area.
Angel cocked his head as he watched his childe. “Spike, for once, could you not argue with me?” A person would think that after a century he’d learn to follow something else besides Drusilla’s skirts.
“Fine. But I never was much for history. I was a lawyer when I was human not a historian,” Spike reminded Angel, “and I did not sign on to be an errand boy.”
“No, you didn’t. I ordered you to watch out for Buffy and this is part of that job,” Angel told him.
“Well, where are we meeting then?” Spike asked with a resigned sigh.
“Go to Giles’ place when you’re done, I’ll meet up with you there,” Angel instructed.
The two vampires parted ways. Spike had to get away from Angel, for a little while at least. His head was telling him to forget the whole notion of starting anything with the older vampire. His body was saying an entirely different thing. The demon’s physical need to be with family was strong and having his Sire here and accessible was driving him completely insane. He could see how Angelus had driven Drusilla mad. He taunted her with unimaginable possibilities, well that and killing everyone around her causing her to run for a convent.
Before he realized it, Spike was in front of the monastery. He wondered as he entered the building if he’d burn up. Yes, he performed the Eligor ritual in a church, but hadn’t stepped foot on holy ground since then. He figured after that some higher power would see fit to dust him. He shook his head. What were those Anne Rice novels talking about anyway? Vampires rose out of cemeteries, why would the inside of a church be any worse?
“Father Gabriel?” Spike called out as he walked up the aisle between the pews. He watched everything to find any sign of the priest or notice anything out of place. He stopped at a set of double doors that looked out onto a sandstone courtyard. Passing through the doors, he called out again. “Father Gabriel, are you out here?”
When Spike cleared a stone pillar next to the house he spotted an Indian in the process of slicing the throat of a priest that he’d hung. “Bloody hell!”
Spike rushed the rest of the way to the macabre sight. He grabbed the Indian by the back of the head and jerked him back away from the prone body before he punched him. At that moment, Buffy was there. She grabbed the Indian’s arm and jerked him with all her strength, sending him flying a few feet away into a brick wall. The man rose to a defensive crouch, in a fighting stance.
“You can’t stop me,” the Indian threatened his attackers.
“You’re very wrong about that,” Buffy countered.
The Indian rushed at Buffy again, but she sidestepped him and he went forward headlong into Spike’s fist. The blow sent him a few feet back. He rose to his feet and tries to slice at Buffy with his knife. She dodged back again. He tried to punch her and she dodged, causing him to hit an ornamental stand.
The Indian and Buffy fell together and rolled around to achieve the most dominant position. Spike sidestepped out of the way of Buffy and the wielded knife. Just because he agreed to watch after the bloody Slayer, didn’t mean he was there to fight her battles for her. All he agreed to do for Angel was watch her back. He didn’t think that entailed fighting other baddies to protect the bint. She seemed to be holding her own as it was. Even with the Indian having the upper hand by holding her down at the moment.
“Yaugh! I am vengeance. I am my People’s cry. They call for Hus, for the avenging spirit to carve out justice,” Hus swore.
“They tell you to start an ear collection?” Buffy gibed.
She kicked up high, throwing the Indian off her. Rolling to her feet, she punched him and grabbed his arm, proceeding to slam the hand holding the knife into a tree but he wouldn’t let go of the weapon. The Indian punched her, but she swerved and kicked his legs out from under him. She grabbed his arm and twisted until he was stuck holding his knife to his own throat.
The Indian stared malevolently at Buffy. “You slaughtered my people. Now you kill their spirit. This is a good day for you,” he vowed.
Buffy shoved him away from her. He stood up and hugged himself before shape shifting into a colony of bats that flew away.
Buffy stared in surprise at the vacant space for a bit before turning to Spike. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was having myself a spot of violence before you showed up and stole my thunder, Slayer,” he said.
Buffy stared at him skeptically before walking back the way she came. Spike scoffed at her disbelieving look and followed her at a long distance, shaking his head the whole time. He didn’t know if he could hold up his end of the deal with the way things were going between him and the Slayer. Angel really owed him for this.
