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He stormed into the house and down the basement stairs with barely a growl. Seemed that the bints were smart enough to stay out of his way, and he thought he saw even Andrew back away without comment, and that would be a bloody first.
Idiot. I should've known, I've always known, but no, let hope get in the bleeding way. Again. We'd had the most incredible night together, and I was just holding her. Then, today, at that crypt, I saw... She's never greeted me with such kisses. Never would, either. Captain Forehead entered the picture and, even though I poured my unbeating heart out to her less than an hour earlier, guess which one of us she's snogging, mate. That's right, Mr. Broody-pants himself.
This, this THING we have is no good. And she still can't admit it was even a thing. And she thinks I'M giving off mixed signals! Well, she's the world titleholder and reigning champion on that front.
Finding a marker left over from when they'd held Hogwarts in the basement, he sketched the least flattering scribble of his Sire that he could, emphasizing the stupid hair. It still stood straight up. The ninny. He pinned his masterpiece to the weight bag, and started to work off his aggression.
"I'd offer to hold that for you, but really don't need to do the 'walking bruise' thing anytime soon and I'm so thinking it would be pummeling by proxy."
He must be slipping if he let the whelp sneak up on him.
"Hey, is that Dead Boy, the original? Why do you have a picture of Angel on the punching bag?"
"Because he dropped by for a visit. Hail, hail, the gang's all here, and all that rot. Kisses for champions."
He continued to work the bag. If he stopped, he'd have to think about it, and his emotions were too close to the surface right now for an audience. Big Bad seemed to have curled up to lick his wounds somewhere deep inside him.
"Kisses? Oh, you mean Buffy? Were you stalking her again? I thought you'd stopped that, what with the soul and all."
Spike answered that comment with a full-body combination that left the bag swinging like a freshly hung corpse. He heard Xander step back.
"Can we start over? So not wanting to die before I have to die, y'know? I've already been tasered today."
Spike swung around to face Xander. "Tasered? By who?" He didn't know why he cared, but he did.
"Oh, I'm fine now, though my hair did look a bit like that right after," he replied, waving toward the doodle. "And, funny thing, it's almost karmic, since I chloroformed Dawn and all."
"You did WHAT to the Bit?" He went from concern to menacing in nanoseconds. Vamps rarely had conflicted loyalties. Hell, they rarely had loyalties. Fear, yes. Loyalties, no. He'd been strange in his loyalty to Dru and, since the chip, he'd kept gathering more ties. He advanced on Xander.
"It was by Buffy's instructions." Xander stepped towards him.
"Oh, now it's all making sense. Really, with you lot, she says 'Jump' and you ask, 'Off which bloody bridge?'!"
They stood almost face-to-face. Both were breathing heavily.
"Like you haven't been all lap-doggy lately. Yesterday you were laying into us for NOT jumping when she said so, and what the hell are we doing?" Xander stepped back again, and raised his hands in surrender.
"I just came down to see how you were and, well, it's another research party up there. Really don't need to work on my eyestrain right now."
"Fine," Spike sighed and also stepped back, acknowledging the detente. Just 'cuz he was miffed there was no need to take it out on the boy. "So, tell me more about this master plan of the Slayer's."
"She wanted Dawn, and most likely me, out of the line of fire. So I was to get Dawn to her Aunt Darlene's. And the only way to make Dawn do something she doesn't want to do..."
"Is to knock her out or bribe her. Yeah, I can see that, then." They'd relocated to the cot. Spike thought about sharing his hidden bottle of Jack, but waited to hear more.
"But what about the tasering?"
"Guess Riley had a bigger influence on the Dawnster than we thought. After all the previous kidnapping attempts she finally got wise, and THIS year she's been carrying a taser along with her cell phone. I'd given her a note Buffy wrote."
Huh, two letters in two days. Slayer hasn't written that much since school assignments. Should I be flattered that she'd treated me like the Bit? Or annoyed that her good-byes were in absentia? Hope that the niblet's letter had been more revealing than the drivel I woke up to.
Xander, with his usual level of awareness, had continued talking. "By the way, thanks for giving her driving lessons. If she'd learned from Buffy, we might not have made it back in one piece."
During this exposition, Spike did grab the bottle of bourbon, took a healthy pull from it, and passed it over to Xander.
"Sounds like your day's been as fun-filled as mine. Here you go, mate."
"Thanks. So what's got your hackles up? Was it the presence of a Master Vampire?"
"Piss off! You've been reading too many of those Anita Blake books. No such thing. Controlling a city? A bleeding bureaucracy more than anything. That's what made the Master so bloody annoying. We were the only clan who had to deal with being summoned. Darla was always off like a shot whenever he crooked his little finger. Wanker."
He held out his hand for the bottle. Thinking about his 'family' always made him need a drink.
Xander casually passed it over and commented, "So, what is Angel, then? Big Cheese?"
"Wanker. Pillock. Broody."
"Not arguing with you there, but I didn't think those were ceremonial titles, except maybe 'Broody'."
Spike leaned back against the wall, took another swig, and realized that he felt relaxed. Oh, he still wanted to tear a strip off Angel, but that was a constant in his unlife. It was just nice to sit without worrying about setting HER off.
"So, is everyone egg-shelling around this place, or is it only me?" He hadn't meant to ask the question. He did believe in Buffy, and that she'd make it work. Hell, she'd stopped every apocalypse she'd met. But, he kept feeling like that punching bag after every conversation with her. Never sure if he was coming or going. Well, not so much with the coming since the soul.
"Egg-shelling? Is that another English term which will make me go 'ew' when I find out what it means? Like 'tosser' as a guy who masturbates? 'Cuz, while probably true, specially since the non-wedding, not really how I'd want to be known."
Spike raised his right eyebrow and turned to look at Xander. Xander and I, thinking along the same lines? Shocking. Him taking a talk on the cruder side? Sodding scary. Now, Anya and bawdiness? Expected. But Xander?
"Did that come out of my mouth? Sorry, must be channeling Anya there. Or it's the bourbon and painkillers talking."
Spike gave him another appraising look, then said, "So, still on board with the gaying up?"
Xander sputtered, fanning the JD from his mouth across the cot.
Spike leaned back, wearing a smirk that had been missing for far too long. Yup, still evil here. They'd better not forget it.