Chapter Three

 

----====Spike====----

After the latest sigh from Buffy after looking at Angel and Connor, I couldn't take much more without causing a scene. Wes' mum had tried hard enough to cause one, winding everyone up until Lilah snapped, and I didn't want to inflict another bust-up on a mate on top of that. But I really couldn't take much more. Each look Buffy tried to make sure I didn't see tore little bits of my heart out and stomped on them. So I picked up my drink and slipped off to the billiard room.

Appropriate really. It took me right back.

Took me back to both before and after I became a vampire. The William in me felt right at home. From the servants, the over-boiled veggies, the dogs, and me slipping away on my own from my friends and loved ones because I couldn't take the pain any longer - I might as well have been back in 1880. There were so many versions of me in this room. There was the William who'd tried to do as he should and join the other fellows for a game, a drink and to talk, when all I'd wanted to do was hide in the corner of the library and weave castles in the air on a page.

Then there was Spike, who'd played billiards for lives with Angelus' chosen victims, while Darla and Dru munched their way through the ladies in the drawing room. Angelus loved that game - miss a shot, lose a friend. Lose the game, bye-bye to your whole family. He'd even mark the slider scoring the game with blood from the victims. He preferred to watch and have me make the shots - he got to taunt the victims more that way. The slider in this room was exactly the same type as the ones that once dripped with blood.

Right now, all I wanted to do was stake that bastard for all he'd done to Buffy, and me, and everyone else I love and care for. I wanted to see her look at his stupid hair and that thick face and laugh at him. I wanted her to shag me senseless on the billiard table, and not stop if he came in, until she'd screamed her climax out to the world. So the world, and especially he, would know she was mine, utterly mine, and always would be. I knew I needed to tolerate Angel for the others' sake, and that I still had to talk over the soul with him - there really was no-body else on the planet that could really understand what it was like. I knew that, but I still really wanted to stake him.

I drained my glass of scotch and contemplated the absolute need for another drink against having to go back into company feeling like this. Sometimes billiard rooms have stashes of booze easy to hand, so I checked. There was enough mahogany panelling to account for the deforestation of much of Northern Brazil, but bugger all booze. So I turned to the bell, which was a strangely natural return to the patterns of my human years in itself, to call for another drink, when the door opened and Buffy walked in.

She smiled at me, "Hey, I thought I'd lost you. Wesley's Mom's being all scary and stuff. She's like Professor McGonagall on crack and wearing pearls instead of the pointy hat thing. She's got me too scared to sit on one of the chairs in case I break them coz they're all so old and valuable and stuff, and, hello, I know I'm all super powers girl, but not exactly heavy here."

"Yeah, luv. Not a woman who's ever had to buy her own furniture."

"Uh, what? English to American translation for the jet-lagged foreign girl?"

"Inherited, pet. Takes centuries to make a place like this. Everything gets passed on down the family, father to son. The new desk becomes an antique, Aunt Jane's portrait goes on loan round the world galleries, but it's still just family stuff, pet."

Buffy sighed, "Yeah, family."

"What's up, luv? Where's Dawn?"

"She talked the servant lady into taking her down to the kitchens to see the dogs. And how weird is it having a conversation with the word 'servant' in? I feel like I'm in one of those BBC America serials Mom loved. She would so love it here."

I smiled sadly, "She would, pet, that she would. I think she might kill Dorothy though, especially if there's any axes around here."

Buffy sniffed. "Yep, she probably would. I miss Mom, Spike."

I gathered her into my arms, "Me too, luv, me too. Place like this, Wes getting hitched, Giles and Anya having a little'un, makes you think about family. Only natural like." She broke away and sniffed harder before biting her lip and freezing up. "What's the matter, Buffy?" I hated it when she went in on herself. She really had got better at not doing it, and I'd begun to feel more confident in my reading of her, but it was still not easy sometimes.

She bridled. "Natural. Well, that's one thing both of us fail at, isn't it?" She snorted, "Only natural. My ex - the vampire with a soul and a happiness clause - somehow manages to have a child, when that's the reason he told me he had to leave me because he couldn't give me that! My Watcher, mine, gets my best friend's girl and a baby on the way in their perfect life away from me! Even my failed Watcher gets Miss Evil Lawyer Bitch, and they'll probably be having lots of little designer clad lawyer/watchers any time soon so they have an heir to the country estate in the Mother Country. I get no family, no children, and it's just struck me that everyone else here can have that. I can't, and I never ever will."

I felt about ten inches tall.

I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. My voice cracked, and I took a deep breath. "I did all I could to be what you deserve, Buffy, but that's one thing I couldn't do. I'm still dead. I can't be human." She'd break a regular human, and she needs someone that can cover her back. "I'm not a pawn of prophecy - even if some people would have me be that. I'm just a bloke who loves a girl with all his still but breaking heart. Buffy, you know I'd do anything for you."

She nodded, and I continued, "I'd like nothing better than for us to have a kiddie, but it's my fault we can't, and I want you to know I wouldn't stand in your way if you wanted to do something so you could have a little'un. You know, talk to Will, see what her mates do. It'd be yours, so it'd be ours. I'd love it like the Nibblet. You know that, don't you?"

She buried her head in my chest and cried into my tie, ruining the bloody thing, and giving me the perfect excuse to untie the knot and give it to her to wipe her eyes once she'd slowed to a trickle from a flood. She sniffed hard and looked up at me, "I love you, you know that?"

I nodded, "I know, I've always known." It hasn't always stopped it feeling like she's torn my heart out and put it under a pile driver, but I always knew.

"It's just they all get a normal life. Angel left me so I could have a normal life, and I failed again, didn't I?" Now that really hurt.

I gripped her harder and told her, "You didn't fail. And he's a complete pillock! Talking complete crap like he always does. You're the Slayer, luv, you're not a character in 'The Waltons'! You're the Slayer, you're special, and you're a wonderful mum to Dawn. We've got her. Them monks they sent her to you cos you're special, not cos your 'normal'! Sod 'normal' for a game of soldiers! You're my very special girl, and I might not be much, but you got me. And you've got Dawn, and the Scoobies, and Giles loves you very much, and I love you even more than he does. We'll get to be Uncle and Auntie and spoil Giles and Anya's lad something rotten, then give him back when he starts screaming. And Dawn's past that stage - mostly."

She tried to smile up at me. "We do have Dawn, don't we? And she loves you again. And even if she's growing up and we'll lose her, we'll have had that."

I tried very hard to grin. "We'll not lose her. Girl's not going to be allowed to date until she's thirty! And at least she's got good enough taste in hair already not to go for the Boy Wonder. See? I can be a positive influence."

She smiled, "Yes you can be, bizarre as that thought is. But we'll have to make the most of her. I've been thinking." She stopped and looked at me, "And stop looking 'gobsmacked' - is that the right word?" I nodded, and she carried on, "It does happen! It's not just you. It's me. Even if 'Died Twice Girl' here can have a baby, and we don't know if that's possible since your chip knows I'm a bit different now. I can't carry it, can I? Not on a Hellmouth, and we can't leave. The baby and me wouldn't survive me trying to slay, and don't start and say everyone would help, I know that, and I know that someone would probably die doing that." I shook my head, but she nodded insistently. "I can't do that to them. And I'm right, and you know it. There'd be an apocalypse; coz there's always an apocalypse. So we'll have to make the most of Dawn; she's all we're going to get. And that still hurts!"

At which she burst into tears again. I held her and wiped away her tears until she stopped, and I bent down to kiss her.

Before I could, the door opened and Wes came in.

He held a bottle of whisky in his hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to life. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like death warmed up - only not as attractively as in my case. He stopped abruptly on seeing us, and Buffy pulled back from me and sniffed hard until she stood firm and Slayer-y, as she'd put it.

Wes put the bottle down on the side of the billiard table, pulled himself together visibly into Watcher-mode, and said, "Sorry to interrupt. I've lost Lilah."

"You lose a lot of people, don'tcha, Wes?" Buffy snapped.

"Quite, only hopefully not permanently this time, Buffy," Wes ice-d back.

"On the plus side, she's probably not in prison this time," she said, then more quietly but still audibly, "even if she should be after what she's done to Angel." The down side of Cordelia keeping in touch with Willow for all that time showed again.

"Who's giving her away, pet. You know, let bygones be bygones and all that stuff. New starts for everyone." I knew that this wedding party from hell wasn't going to be easy. And I knew that my girl still harboured wounds from what happened when Wes was Watcher to her and Faith. She'd told me as much, and I'd heard more from Willow, but I really didn't need this especially with the obligatory bonus Angel mention. And on top of her supposedly forgiving Wes a while back now.

Wes decided on an 'Ignore Buffy' strategy and asked me, "Have you seen her?"

I shook my head, "Sorry, mate. What happened?"

"I'll tell you later," he replied.

"Don't mind me. Invisible girl here." Buffy snapped since she really hated being ignored.

"If only," Wes snapped back at her.

"Buffy, Wes, please?" said yours truly stuck in the middle between my best mate and my beloved, before I continued with, "We're all friends together, ain't we?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. Wes swallowed hard. Buffy breathed in hard before turning to me, and saying, "Yep all big with the friends thing. Now. Gotta go find Dawn, make sure she hasn't been eaten by those big dogs, coz that so wouldn't go too good with the whole wedding thing." She nodded, "Wes", and kissed me lightly before bolting from the room.

I tilted my head towards Wes and said, "Sorry, mate. Still some issues it seems."

He sighed, "She's not the only one." Then he ferreted in the panelling and pressed a hidden switch revealing some glass tumblers, and some sealed bottles - explaining why I hadn't smelt them earlier when I was looking. He took two out and poured the whisky into the tumblers, before staring deeply into the bottom of his glass as if seeking to divine the arcane secrets of the universe, or at least womankind, in the peat depths of the fine Islay malt.

I'm his Best Man, which is a bloody marvellous feeling, and not something I thought anyone would ever ask me to be. Part of the job description is 'get the groom pissed as a fart'. Ok, the location means I can't strip him naked and handcuff him to a lamp-post; for one thing we left the handcuffs at home - airport security issues, you know, but I could get him completely hammered, or at least aid and abet the getting trashed process. Since neither Wes nor Giles would let me organise a proper stag-do this would have to do. And I'm still annoyed they wouldn't let me. I mean there would only have been a few succubi, lots of booze, and a few other extras that lead to fun - nothing too dangerous.

I downed my glass, and it hit the spot perfectly. With a bit of warmth in my belly I could ask, "What happened with Lilah, Wes? Tell your best man. If I need to do a bit of tracking I'll need to lay off the scotch a bit."

He smiled ruefully. "Shouldn't come to that, hopefully. Might come to needing to dig a hole to put my mother in if Lilah has her way, but I rather hope not."

"Me too, mate. I mean she's a 'character' your mum, but you'll want her at your wedding. Anyone would." I poured some more malt into my glass. "You know my mum would have got on famously with Dorothy. Both scary women who love dogs, even if my mum was a town girl. But got to love 'em, haven't you? I certainly always have."

"I suppose," he said without conviction. "But it makes it hard when one's lover and one's mother are both strong women and under the same roof." He downed half of his glass in one gulp.

"Yeah, can well imagine, mate. Still it'd be great to have Joyce around, even if she'd have killed me when I first got back." I looked deep into my glass and sought the comfort at the bottom of it before continuing, "But, me aside, what's happened with Lilah? Or was it the whole your mum goading her into playing with everyone's buttons at dinner thing?"

"Mostly the button goading. Mother might have been a Watcher once and think she knows about darkness and what can happen, but I can't help fearing she might goad Lilah too far without realising who she is playing with. Lilah does love me, heaven knows she agreed to marry me, but..." He drank the rest before continuing, "If Mum does drive her too far, I don't foresee a pleasant result. I had a word with Lilah after dinner and, let's put it this way, it didn't go well."

I poured us both some more. "It'll be all right. In all the stories on telly, weddings always have conflict, some physical violence, and much angst for all before the bride walks down the aisle in the meringue outfit. Of course, never been formally married myself, but it always works out." I took another drink.

"I hope so, Spike. It has to. But being here.... And all the baggage every guest seems to be dragging around with them.... It's hard. God, it's hard." He took another deep swallow.

"Tell me about it. I keep fiddling with my bleeding necklace. It helps and so did getting that bloody tie off, but something's missing," I said as I downed my drink.

Wes finished his too and said, "It's the same with my ring. Of course! It's Giles! We need Giles."

"Too bloody right, so let's fetch him," I said.

Wes giggled as the booze caught up on him. "Fetch! Woof!"

I took his arm. "At least the dogs don't hate an' fear you, you lucky bastard. Come on, mate."

We headed out of the room and climbed up the stairs to the attic. I could hear the sound of a guitar playing Beatles songs from halfway up the stairs, even though the thick doors would have blocked the sounds to a human. We got to the door, and I opened it to find a tableau of guitar playing Senior Watcher, sitting cross legged at the feet of a reclining adoring wife supported by enough cushions to arm a dormitory of schoolboys in a pillow-fight. He was singing:

"You say you want a revolution
Well you know we all wanna change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well you know we all wanna change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out

"Don't you know it's gonna be
Alright, alright, alright"

Wes swallowed a sob on everything going to be 'alright', and Giles opened his eyes, stopped playing, and looked up at Wes and me. I felt guilty at interrupting now so I covered it with, "A bit of John Lennon flavoured Beatles, always knew you were a man of taste, mate."

Giles looked a little pink around the ears with embarrassment at being interrupted in such an intimate moment and said, "Someone has to be, and the choice is somewhat limited in this room. And the reason you're interrupting us is?"

"Um... needed a change from piano versions of gay club torch songs?" I said. Wes gave a cracked giggle/sob. I moved into an honest, "Need our third for a bit, mate."

Giles noticed the strain on Wes' face, then looked closely at me, and sighed. He looked at Anya, who rolled her eyes, showing that years of contact with Buffy had passed something on, and struggled more upright before saying, "Rupert, go on, you know you want to. They need you. But if you wake me up when you get back, you're sleeping in the large but very cold iron bath."

He looked closely into her eyes until she smiled at him, then he kissed her lightly before saying, "I have a queen among women - I won't do that. Are you sure? Does your back still hurt?"

She smiled back at him, "At the moment your child's quietened down. He clearly does love the Beatles, which is worrying as all the baby books say to play classical music, but that just induces kicks of protest, which hurt."

I asked, "Chip off the old block, Rupes?"

He grinned, "Yeah, loves Clapton too. Bloody wonderful stuff. Now all I've got to do next is to get him the baby Chelsea strip."

Anya frowned, "Rupert, we talked about this. No way are you taking my son into dangerous football grounds full of hooligans and dubious food products."

"Not until he's at least seven, darling. Besides, it's Chelsea, it's ciabattas not pies, and it's an English father/son thing."

"Dubious bonding rituals apart, our son will be too busy learning and making useful friends for later life to get wet with you and George while watching a group of men chase a ball and fail to do anything useful with it." Girl had clearly been dragged along to Stamford Bridge. "Anyway, at the moment he's asleep, so take these two and practice for his later years when we'll need to get it right. I'm going to rest. If he starts kicking again, I'll go for a walk and come and find you. Honestly, now, go! But take the cell in case I need to text you!" Anya ordered

Giles put the mobile phone in his pocket. Wes and I both remembered our manners and said our thanks before we dragged Giles out of the door.

 

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