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Juliatheyounger
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy et al own these characters
Summary: Sequel to Hot Chocolate…Marshmallows (of course). Not only is Buffy going out with Spike but now she's got Armageddon to deal with as well.
Rating: R (I expect)
Spoilers: Season 5
Feedback: Yes please (with sugar on top?)
Distribution: If anyone wants it then, yes, please! But let me know so I can feel all flattered.
Author's note: Yup I've done it, started the Hot Chocolate sequel (yeah as if I could leave it there, we haven't even dealt with the chip or Angel yet!) mwhahahahaha… Let more pointless crap ensue!
For those who came in late and can't be bothered to read Hot Chocolate…
Buffy has finally admitted to Spike that she loves him after quite a bit of sex and a fight or two. Buffy has told the Scooby Gang she is seeing the blonde undead one. Xander has accidentally walked in on Buffy and Spike during a rather inopportune moment and Willow and Tara, not knowing Spike and Buffy were sort of seeing each other, asked him to be the…er…three in a threesome. Giles thinks they are just going on a date.
Oh yeah and there was stuff about demons and crap.
******************************************
"Hey love?" said Spike some time around about dawn.
"Mmm?" murmured Buffy who had been asleep. She shifted against the firm, delightful body that held her.
Spike kissed the top of her head.
"Meant to tell you, I might not be around much at nights now."
"Why?" asked Buffy trying to wrap her sleepy brain around this statement. "You suddenly able to go out during the day."
Spike smoothed her hair, a little nervous all of a sudden.
"Got a job love," he said, half proudly, half shyly.
"A job?" Buffy looked up at him, amazement creeping into her brain. "Really? Wow!"
Spike nodded, wrapping his arms more tightly around his sleepy love. She looked up at him.
"Wow Spike, that's so…just, great. I'm so impressed." Buffy kissed him on the mouth.
Spike looked embarrassed. If he knew she'd act this way he'd have gotten a job ages ago.
"So, spill, what are you doing, where are you working? And don't tell me at a blood bank or I'll stake you."
Spike grinned.
"I'm loading boxes and stuff in a warehouse."
Buffy frowned. "Is it legal?"
"More legal than nicking my dough off Harris."
"Sorry," murmured Buffy. "Just worrying about you."
Spike kissed her, touched.
"Why did you get a job?" Buffy asked waking up a little.
"Like I said, can't keep taking money off you lot and I need cash."
Buffy didn't know what to say. "You don't have to spend money on me Spike, you know that. I mean- "
"I know, I just want to be independent. And you deserve someone who isn't a useless bludger." He gave her an evil grin. " 'Sides, don't feel right you paying me for information now we're sleeping together."
"Spike, you're not useless."
Spike kissed her. "Doubt you'd be saying that love if I needed you to buy me blood and smokes all the time."
Buffy kissed him soundly in return. She was very impressed with him.
"Guess I'll have come visit you in the day time then," said Buffy. "If you're working nights."
"Won't be working all night, but wouldn't mind if you popped over during the day."
Buffy snuggled up to Spike. Right at this moment, things were just about perfect. She'd worry about Dawn and get upset about Angel tomorrow. Right now she was with a man who loved her and who'd do anything for her. Even change.
****************
Spike half sang, half hummed some song he'd heard on the radio as he was coming home. With a kick he swung the door of the crypt open and carried his bags of groceries and odds and ends inside.
Not a bad little pay packet for a week's work. Enough for smokes, beer, blood and almost half of what he'd need to pay the security deposit on a flat. And some left over for flowers, chocolates and a couple of Buffy sized dinners.
True, it wasn't exactly conventional merchandise in the boxes he was moving. And he doubted Buffy would approve of his employers. But it was good money, and what he was doing was legitimate, at least.
Besides, there wasn't that many job ads that listed "master vampire" and "evil bastard" in their selection criteria.
Spike was so busy feeling pleased with himself that he didn't notice the person in the crypt until he'd kicked the door closed and set the groceries on the sarcophagus.
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as one bloody unwelcome Riley Finn stepped out of the shadows.
"Spike."
Spike regained control of his cool. He leant back against the crypt and lit a cigarette.
"Captain Cardboard, what an irritating surprise," Spike narrowed his eyes. "Come to tell me off for touching Buffy?"
Riley shook with restrained violence. He feigned calmness and sighed. "I suppose this is the moment when I tell you my plan to ruin your life."
"Well seeing as I'm already dead, you might have a bit of a job in front of you, but feel free to try."
Riley gave him a tight nasty grin.
"Its ironic Spike, and yes I do know what that means, I was a TA as well as a soldier for a while there-"
Spike raised a cynical eyebrow. "Astounding. Brains as well as brawn. How could Buffy have let you get away. Oh that's right, you left."
"Do you mind, Spike, I'm spelling out my plan to make your unlife as miserable as possible."
"Oh, sorry, do go on."
"As I was SAYING, it's ironic, but the one thing you've wanted for over two years is the one thing that will mean that Buffy will never even look at you again."
Spike frowned. He didn't like the sound of this. But Soldier Boy was all talk.
"So tell me Finn, what would this one thing be? A year's subscription to Reader's Digest? A free pair of diamante earrings with every set of steak knives? That'd turn the Slayer off me right quick I think."
"Your chip Spike."
Oh. Thought Spike. Bugger.
"You've wanted it for so long Spike, now I'm going to give it to you." Riley paused for suitably dramatic effect. "I'm going to remove your chip."
"That's mighty kind of you Riley," noted Spike, ignoring the feeling a dread welling up inside of him. Fuck, his subconscious managed to point out. "What brought on this sudden spirit of generosity. Visited by the Ghosts of Complete Pillocks Past?"
"You aren't that stupid Spike. You know Buffy can't let you run around killing again."
"Well that's where you're being a pillock again, you smug little goit, because I'm not going to run around killing again. Ain't going to give Buffy a reason to regret giving me a chance."
"Maybe not at first Spike. But can you really do it? Really deny your nature forever? You'll fight it, for a while. But one day you'll give into it and kill. And then Buffy will have no choice but to stake you."
"That's a chance we'll take together. Maybe she'll cheat on me with a six foot moron with bloody stupid hair. That's a chance I'll take. It's called a relationship, Riley."
"But Buffy won't take that chance. The last time she took that chance people were killed and the world nearly ended. She told me about Angel. It hurt her. She won't take that chance again, Spike."
"Fuck you, Whitebread. You going to tell her then? After you do it. Just saying you do it. You going to tell her?"
"No, I'm not, I'm not like you Spike. I'm not going to stand around and gloat. She chose you, she's got you. She'll find out for herself soon enough. And when she finds out, she'll kill you. And it serves you both right." Riley practically spat these last words.
Spike's expression was cold and deceptively calm.
"You've got it all thought out then 'aven't you. You really hate her that much? That you'd hurt her like that?"
"She'll get over you," said Riley callously.
"You little -" but that's all Spike said because at that moment Riley pressed a button on a small black remote control in his pocket and used the chip to fry Spike's brain into unconsciousness.
********************
Giles walked to his kitchen without taking his eyes off the book he was reading. There were so many messianic cults and writings that dealt with Armageddon that finding some sort of information on how to stop it was like looking for a needle in a hay stack. Or getting a camel through the eye of one, thought Giles, who'd been reading too much bible lately. They'd been researching for a week and things weren't any clearer.
There was a loud, firm knock on the door.
Still reading, Giles went to answer it.
"Yes can I help you?" It was then Giles looked up and saw what appeared to be a knight standing in his doorway.
For a brief moment Giles thought the Knights of Byzantium had come to pay another call. Then he noticed the red cross on the knight's white tunic and the distinct lack of odd forehead markings.
"Hullo old chap!" boomed the man who was dressed suspiciously like a knight.
"Er…hello," said Giles raising his glasses and forgetting the book.
"Name's George. Saint George in fact. Mind if I come in?"
"Er…what, yes, I mean no, come in…" It was then Giles noticed the halo. A halo?
The knight, with the halo, followed Giles inside the house. Giles surreptiously pinched himself, suspecting that he'd fallen asleep researching again and that was why he was dreaming of knights who looked and sounded suspiciously like John Cleese. And wore halos.
"I say, old chap, nice place you've got here," boomed the knight. He beamed at Giles. "Oh, don't mind the appearance," he added as if reading Giles' mind. "It's that whatsit, you know, thing - what people imagine me as, all that. Be wearing a bloody leather skirt if I was going to go with realism. More Life of Brain than Holy Grail."
"Er…what? Yes, I see." Giles cleaned his glasses furiously. He thought he understood that, the knight appeared in the form most people pictured him. Good lord, he thought he was talking to a saint.
"Been pretty much stuck like this since Good Queen Bess, bless her heart. She made me English you know."
"Oh? Really? Oh of course, yes, Reformation. Needed a patron saint for the English people."
"'Course with popular television, everyone thinks of the Templars, when they think of knights, hence the cross. Though could be mine. Saint George's cross, you know."
"Ah yes…very, English."
"And the appearance, of course, everyone imagines old Cleese charging in and lopping off the wedding guest's heads when they think of knights these days."
"Yes, quite, appalling."
The knight rocked on his heels, talking away.
"Not really a knight anyway. Roman Equestrian, translates as knight but the closest any of that lot came to a horse was eating one."
Giles just nodded a bit. Looking slightly pale. George slapped him on the back heartily.
"Not so bad, old chap. Could be worse. Saint Vladimir of Russia looks like Count Dracula more and more every day."
"Right, yes of course." Suddenly a thought formed in Giles' perplexed brain. Word association. "You killed the dragon."
Saint George laughed heartily. "It's AND the Dragon old chap. Not KILLED the Dragon. Don't you remember the story, was a slip of a girl who done it. Caught him with her girdle and led him off. Beauty taming the savage beast. Think I was supposed to have struck the final blow or something. Not what really happened of course."
"No?"
"No, course not. I was heading through Palestine. Not awfully healthy for Christians in those days, Rome was in a torch lighting mood. I came across a town, more a village really. Course that turned into a castle soon enough. Sure as heaven didn't have a moat when I was there."
Giles just blinked. He hoped his subconscious was taking this in so he could think about it later.
"Anyway, whole town was terrified. Apparently they'd been put under tribute by this Roman, Aurelius."
"Aurelius?"
"That's the bloke. Anyhow, soon as they saw I was a Roman nobleman they sent a couple of Pharisees to ask me to speak with this Aurelius. Ask him to tone it down a bit." George looked off into space remembering. "What's this tribute anyway, I asked, thinking 'render unto Caesar' and all that. So they told me."
Giles gestured towards the sitting room, thinking that he might fall down soon if he didn't take a seat.
"Thanks, old man," boomed George, sitting down on Giles' couch. He leaned back and continued the story. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the tribute. It had gone on for a year. First it was sheep. And when they were gone, it was goats. Now the sheep and the goats were gone, and it was girls."
Giles' mind had begun to work again and he had a fairly good idea about where this was going.
"Well I thought, that's just not cricket and told them I'd speak with this Aurelius chap. I knew an Aurelius, Marcus by name, fine lad. Hoped it'd be him and we could reason it out. The villagers were wailing and weeping because the tribute was due in a day. And the High Priest had told them he'd send his daughter because he couldn't ask anyone else to give up theirs. I saw the girl, small chit of a thing, and I couldn't see how she'd last a minute in the whorehouses of Rome, if that was where they'd send her. She was calm though and told me not to think of her. Told me she'd be all right." George looked at Giles. "Well I was only twenty-seven then and not yet wed and so I promised myself I'd save that girl if it was the last thing I did.
So I sent to this Aurelius and was told he'd see me with the tribute and not before. The tribute was due at dusk. And so there I was, slip of a girl in tow and we went out to meet this Aurelius. Two of his men, legionnaires met me at the door. They had their helmets on but there was something not quite right about them.
They took me into see Aurelius. And it wasn't Marcus. And it wasn't a dragon either. Was some creature from hell. Vampire you'd call it now. And it was set to drink the girl's life blood and mine own probably.
I was, to put it mildly, a bit terrified. But I pushed the girl behind me, and faced him. Didn't have a sword - his underlings wouldn't have allowed it and I besides I was trying to 'turn the other cheek' ever since I'd been baptised. He started towards me and he bared his fangs and then, you wouldn't credit it, just as he was about to touch me he jumped back as if he'd been burnt.
Turns out I'd been holding a crucifix and saying Our Father. You have to remember though that back then I'd had enough faith that I'd risk being thrown to the lions by being baptised a Christian.
But then an even more amazing thing happened. His jumping back had been enough distraction apparently, because, before I could stop her, the girl was upon him. She didn't have a weapon on her, but she knocked him to the floor. He was dust within two minutes. I'd never seen anyone like her. I didn't know what she was."
George paused and looked shrewdly at Giles.
"But you do. You're a Watcher."
"The Slayer."
"One of them. Just for the record, she ended up ripping off his head with her girdle."
"Not quite the touching and poignant story I was led to believe," murmured Giles, his brains finally starting to work again.
George snorted. "Aurelius was old and mad, there was no taming that one with innocence and beauty." He put his hands on his knees decisively, as if to rise. "But anyway, enough with this chit chat. Armageddon's here. Thought you might like to help."
*****************
Spike woke up with a shocking headache. His brain managed to form the work fuck and then set it on repeat. Spike slowly opened his eyes and was relieved to discover he was still in his crypt. Thank…god, whatever.
Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe Finn had just been bluffing. Had knocked him out and left it at that, bit of a laugh, make Spike shit himself, hohoho, fucking hilarious, that sort of thing. Actually, it was bloody funny, now Spike thought about it. He'd been itching to get that chip out for so long and suddenly now he was offered it, he realised with awful clarity that it was the last thing he wanted.
Gingerly he felt the back of head and yelped with pain as his fingers touched a patch of gauze.
"Oh, fuck."
******************
Spike waited for dusk with as much patience as possible. Somehow he had come to the mad conclusion that he had to tell Buffy about the missing chip as soon as possible. He had decided that things would go very badly if she found out from someone else. She'd think he'd been sneaking around behind her back. If he told her, reasoned with her, explained how this didn't change anything…
Fuck he was hungry. The bloody doctor, or whatever psycho Whitebread had let loose on his head, had drained him of a lot of blood.
Fuck.
And now his stash of blood bags was gone from the fridge.
Fuck. Bastard Finn.
Got to get to Buffy's, get some blood.
Fuck.
Get some blood, then explain. Don't eat anyone on the way.
When the bloody hell was that sun going to set?
***************
"Spike?" Buffy asked surprised as she opened the door and saw her boyfriend, about five minutes after sunset. "Don't you have to work?"
"Got any blood love?"
"Huh? Yeah, nice to see you too, it's in the fridge."
Spike would have kissed her but wasn't going to risk it. He managed to say something about explaining soon as he bolted for the fridge.
Spike had never been so glad to see a packet of cold pig's blood in his life, barring the first time he'd watched Carrie and he'd known that some enjoyably bad shit was just about to go down the minute that bucket tipped. He ripped the packet open, not even bothering to heat it up and gulped the blood down. Then he ripped open another and did the same. The third packet he waited long enough to heat it up and put it in a mug.
"Hungry?" Buffy asked from the doorway, a look of concern on her face.
Spike shut his eyes and leant back against the fridge.
"Love, you have no idea. Let me drink this, then I have to tell you something."
Buffy swallowed. "Something not of the good?" she asked, trying to sound light. She'd stopped by Spike's crypt earlier in the day and he hadn't been there. She had had a foreboding feeling in her gut then, but now, even seeing him here, safe and sound, the feeling was worse.
Spike shook his head. "Sorry love, not of the good at all."
Buffy drew a deep breath. Suddenly she froze.
"What happened to your head?"