Lessons in Control
Chapter Four: Several Confrontations
Willow and Spike walked home through the dark streets of Sunnydale. Willow was still giggling about the whole Giles/peanuts/Xander thing, but Spike was more pensive. He was trying to decide what kind of ‘adventure’ to take his little ‘slave’ on next.
"Did you see Giles’ face?" she laughed. "I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel!"
Spike suddenly stopped. "We’ve hit a road block, love," he said as he pointed toward their home. Willow’s parents’ SUV was parked in the driveway.
"But – but – but they always call. And – and – they didn’t call. So they can’t be here," she stated reasonably.
"Right. You pop in and tell them that and I’ll just pull up a curb and wait, shall I?" He sat and muttered to himself, "Maybe the whelp’ll put me up for a night or two. The watcher snores."
Willow sighed and pulled at his hand. "Come on. They know about you – about us. Not that you live here, but – I don’t know. We’ll see. Just behave yourself," she warned.
"You mean I have to do the whole proper English ‘William’ thing again? I hate it when your parents come to town," he complained with a groan. He took off his duster and threw it behind the bushes on the side of the house. He raked his fingers through his hair, making it look presentable. Then he opened the box on the bike and reached to the bottom to pull out the blue button down and put it on over his black t-shirt. In a completely different voice, he said, "Right then, my darling Willow, shall we go and greet dear mum and dad?"
Willow laughed and pulled him into the house. "Mom? Dad? Where are you?" she called.
"In the kitchen, dear. Oh, and you’ve brought dear William. How are you, William?" her mother replied as if Willow and Spike walking into the house and finding her parents at supper was the most normal thing in the world. "Willow, there was a strange message for you. Someone named Angel wants you to send him a spike. I think he said a spike. He sounded rather out of breath. Why would he expect you to send him a spike? Do you have a spike?" Spike could see where Willow got her tendency to ramble. It was inherited.
"No problem, Mom. It’s – uh – Mr. Giles’ spike. He collects all kinds of crazy stuff. You remember I told you that Mr. Angel is a college professor. He’s probably lecturing on the building of the railroads in Africa or something. I’d better go get that Spike – I mean spike - from Mr. Giles so I can send it first thing in the morning. Be right back."
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Rosenburg. It’s so nice to make your acquaintance once again." Spike tried to articulate in his almost forgotten ‘William’ voice as Willow pulled him out the door.
Once on the front lawn, Willow was worried. "What does he want? Is he mad about the other night? Will he hurt you? Don’t go." Came out in a rush.
"Pet, don’t worry so." He had to remember to turn off the Victorian-speak. "Peaches prob’ly just needs help with a demon. Poofter never did learn his demonology. Knows every bleedin’ thing ‘bout the line of Aurelius and can’t even speak Firgoll. Nobody but other vamps give a shit about Aurelius, but you meet Firgollow’s in every other town you come to. And those buggers eat unfriendlies. So you’d best be friendly, if ya get my drift."
"Are you sure?"
Trying to reassure her, he wrapped his arms around her (the only sure fire way to keep her from fidgeting) and whispered, "Yes, I’m sure. You heard him. He’s fine with it. Red, my love, you’re not a freak. It’s not a sin and you won’t go to jail. You like it, don’t you?"
He thought he heard her say yes, but even with his vampiric hearing he wasn’t sure.
"Red."
She nodded this time.
He pulled her out to arms length and looked into her trusting but slightly teary green eyes. "This is just the break we need. You have a nice visit with the folks and I’ll pop up to LA and kill something for Peaches. By the time I’m done I’ll bet Mum and Dad will be off to Belize or wherever. All right?"
She nodded again, not quite sure – where Angel was concerned she was always a bit wary – but trusting in Spike. He had never lied to her.
After a lingering kiss, he headed around the house to Willow’s window. If it was a messy kill, he was going to need a change of clothes. Willow waited by the motorcycle.
She hated to see him go, they had only spent one night apart since they had moved in together. The only other time her parents had stayed overnight, he had spent the first night at Giles’ and the next day she told her mother she was spending a few nights with ‘Bunny’ Summers. They had spent the next two days and nights together at Angel’s hotel. Never leaving the suite. Cordie had been very sweet and delivered food and blood twice a day. If it wasn’t for her sociology final on Friday she would try the same trick now.
Spike returned quickly and she asked for a ride to Buffy’s. She couldn’t go back in just yet, her parents’ were expecting her to be at Giles’.
Two minutes later found them outside the Summers’ residence and ten minutes later found them still kissing goodbye. Buffy had heard the motorcycle and was waiting patiently at the door for as long as she could stand. Finally, she went to pry her best friend’s lips off of the vampire and drag Willow into her house.
Inside was a living room filled with the entire Scoobie contingent: Buffy, Xander, Anya, Dawn and Tara.
Xander, as her oldest friend, took the forefront. "Okay, Will. What’s going on?"
Inside the Summers’ living room, all the questions came rapid fire with hardly any breath at all between them.
From Tara, "Are you two fighting?"
Buffy was Supporto-Gal as usual, "Is he cheating on you?"
Anya tried to be helpful, in case Buffy had it right, "I still have friends in the vengeance industry."
Xander, was well, Xander. "Are you pregnant?"
You could have heard a pin drop. Even Joyce walked in from the kitchen looking incredulously at the only male representative. She remembered Hank as being exceptionally thick but she had hoped it was just her ex-husband, and the not the male gender as a whole. Xander wasn’t helping to reinforce that hope.
Dawn finally chimed in with, "Huh?" and she slapped Xander upside the back of the head. "He’s a vampire, moron. She can’t get pregnant."
Xander tried again, "Are you cheating on him and got pregnant?" This time Joyce walked over to slap him in the head.
Tara again, "Did he leave you?"
Buffy defended him, "Not from what I saw outside. That was so not a goodbye kiss." Willow blushed, but no one paid any attention.
Anya, thinking that humans were, as a species, severely lacking in their mental processes, tried to get to the point, "Why is he calling you Willow?"
Buffy accused, "Yeah, and why are you so nice to him?"
Joyce thought it prudent to interfere at this point. She took Willow’s hand and led her to sit next to Dawn on the couch. "She didn’t mean that like it sounded, dear. From what I’ve gathered from their conversation tonight, they seem a little concerned about you and Spike. It seems to them that your behavior toward each other has changed, a little, in the last couple of weeks and they just want reassurance that everything is okay with the two of you. As much as Dawn and I try – and try – and try – to convince them that Spike would never hurt you – in spite of him being a vampire - they do worry. I don’t think they reallly understand Spike the way that you and Dawn and I do." Here she paused, hoping she had explained well enough, trying not to unduly embarrass the young woman. She knew Buffy, for one, would never let this drop until Willow had provided some kind of explanation.
Willow was apprehensive. What could she say? What could she say that they would understand? She certainly wasn’t going to tell them the truth. But what lie would they believe? Who was she kidding? She couldn’t lie; everybody knew she couldn’t lie. But she couldn’t tell the truth, either. Particularly not with Buffy’s mom sitting there. Maybe they’d buy a half-truth.
"It’s a game."
Buffy was suspicious. "What kind of a game?"
‘Shit’, was Willow’s first thought, ‘why can’t Buffy just mind her own business.’
"Just a game kind of game. A polite game. He’s polite to me and – and – and I’m, I’m polite to him."
Anya wasn’t buying it either, "Then why are you giggling all the time? And I thought I heard you call him ‘master’."
Joyce brought an abrupt halt to the conversation. "I’m sure it was ‘mister’, Anya. How would everyone like some ice cream?"
Unanimous ‘yay’s sounded and Joyce stood and headed for the kitchen. "Willow, dear, would you help me with this?"
"Sure, Mrs. Summers."
When Willow followed Joyce into the kitchen, Joyce took her hand and led her out onto the back porch.
"Willow, I know you’re a grown woman, but you are like a daughter to me. And your parents, from what I can see, have not been ‘overly parental’? Is that the nice way to say it?"
Willow blushed and nodded.
"Please don’t be embarrassed. I’m not trying to pry, I just want to make sure you are all right." She took a deep breath, blew it out then asked, "Was Anya correct?"
Willow wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. Or to be hit by lightening. Anything - anything at all, to get her out of this situation. Unfortunately, at least from Willow’s perspective, her reaction answered the question.
"Don’t worry, dear, I don’t shock easily. I was young once too. I’m not that old now, really. At least, I don’t think so." She giggled and Willow noticed for the first time just how young Buffy’s mother was. She always thought of her as just that, ‘Buffy’s mother’.
"What you’re doing, if you’re doing what I think you’re doing" she said with a pointed look at the redhead, "is okay, you know. Or, it is if you’re comfortable with it. If you’re not – " she left the question open.
Willow was at a loss, but felt the unasked question needed to be answered so that Mrs. Summers wouldn’t worry. "I’m, I’m okay. Spike would never-" but Joyce interrupted her.
"I know. I know he would never hurt you. Or make you do something you didn’t want to do. But sometimes –" and she sat on the step and motioned for Willow to sit with her. "Sometimes young girls, who are desperately in love, can be talked into things."
Willow wanted to ask if that had ever happened to her, but instead just said, "No, it’s not like that."
"I didn’t think so. But I wanted to be sure. It’s okay, Willow. I don’t know what kind of birds and bees talk your parents had with you –"
Willow interrupted, "They didn’t. They had me read some adolescent psychology books though." She said as cheerfully as she could.
"Oh, Willow. Poor child." She was sympathetic, not pitying. If she hadn’t been, Willow would have ran as far as she could as fast as she could. "If you ever need to talk, about anything, you do know that I’m here for you? That I’ll always be here for you, no matter what? And I do mean for you, Buffy and Dawn will never know a thing about it."
Willow finally broke and the tears started to flow. "I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s right anymore. Everything I thought about love, and making love, it’s all changing."
Joyce stroked the girl’s hair and said, "But it’s supposed to, Willow. It’s supposed to change. You have to find what’s right for you and Spike. That’s not always going to be what’s right for another couple. You’re not your parents. You’re not Xander and Anya. You’re not even Buffy and Angel, even though you may identify with that a little more."
"Angel said that anything two people do when they’re alone is all right as long as they both feel good about it."
"I think Angel’s right. Absolutely right." She let slip a smile. "And I never thought I’d ever hear myself say that. Angel and I rarely saw eye to eye."
Willow smiled, "I know."
"But I can admit when I’m wrong. And I’m willing to admit that in this – and maybe only this, we’ll have to see – Angel is right. Have you talked to him about this?"
"Kinda. I was a little worried about the vampire thing, and Spike got Angel to set me straight. Spike’s not your average vampire." She saw the older woman smile, "But you already know that."
"Yes. Yes, I do. Hot chocolate and little marshmallows for one thing," she laughed. "And from what I’ve heard about vampires from Buffy and Mr. Giles’, I think Spike is very exceptional. And though I never met her, I think Drusilla must have been also. Spike used to talk about her quite a bit. But I suppose I should be quiet now and not bring up Spike’s ex."
"No, it all right. We, Spike and I, talk about her all the time. She’s a big part of Spike’s life before me. It’s kind of hard not to talk about her. I used to be jealous, but now –"
"Now it’s very obvious how much Spike loves you."
Willow grinned broadly and so did Joyce. "Weren’t we supposed to be getting ice cream?"
"Yes, we were. And we are. But Willow –"
"I won’t forget." And she gave her adopted mother the kind of hug she could never give to her natural one and followed her into the house.
Spike walked into the Hyperion and dropped his newly lit cigarette into the ashtray that Angel was holding out to him. "What’s up, Peaches?"
Angel had felt his childe’s presence almost as soon as he had crossed the city limits. When he felt him come within a mile, he stood, opened a desk drawer and pulled out the ashtray. By the time Spike was parking the bike, Angel had positioned himself next to the door, leaned against the wall, held out the ashtray and prepared to wait for Spike. He only had to wait twenty seconds.
"Nothing." The elder answered, now moving toward his office again. Spike followed, but waited at the door as Angel disposed of the offending cigarette.
"If you hate it that much, I’ll take it outside and throw it –" he started before he looked up into Angel’s face. "I’ll put it in the rubbish bin." Spike gave his sire an evil grin to show that he had given in voluntarily, not because he had been forced to.
Angel was smiling, he knew Spike almost better than Spike did. William had always been his favorite for a reason. "I called to ask how Willow was handling your new exercise regime," he cocked an eyebrow in his childe’s direction, but didn’t wait for an answer as he strolled back into the lobby. "Mrs. Rosenberg answered the phone. After I got over the initial shock, I realized that you’d need a place to stay. Since you ended up here last time, I thought I may as well invite you, make you look like less of a mooch."
"But Da-a-a-ad," Spike whined at Angel’s smile. "That’s what I’m supposed to do. Be a no-good lazy bum and make you bail me out for the rest of my unlife. Don’t you watch the telly?" he said as he good-naturedly jabbed the elder vampire in the stomach.
Angel returned the favor with an uppercut to the chin. Spike sent a left hook to Angel’s eye followed closely by a roundhouse kick to his abdomen that sent Angel flying. Cordelia and Wesley walked in as Angel landed and Wesley exclaimed, "Oh my goodness. Spike’s back. What shall we do?"
Cordelia fluttered a hand. "We should go home and take the rest of the week off, with pay." she answered, walking toward the office and pulling out the checkbook.
"But – but what about Angel? Shouldn’t we help in some way? Spike may harm him, possibly permanently, this time."
Cordy glanced up at the fighting vampires. Spike was now on his back on the floor and Angel was standing over him, holding him down with a foot and laughing. "That’s not fighting," she said, ripping off two checks and handing one to Wes. "That’s male bonding – vampire style." She left the office, and grabbed her purse and her sweater, pulling the ex-watcher along behind her. She walked over to where Spike had his hands around Angel’s foot and it looked like he was about to throw him off when Cordy cleared her throat.
"Yes, sweetheart, what can I do to make your life better?" the blonde asked her in a bored tone, still holding tightly to Angel’s foot.
"Drop dead."
"Okay" Spike answered, cheerfully. "Done. Next?"
Cordy tapped her boss on the shoulder to get his attention. His bright eyes had never left Spike. He finally glanced her way, "What is it Cordelia?" he didn’t sound happy.
"Love you too, boss. Wes and I are outta here. I only paid us enough for the rest of the week, so if you two are still playing tag on Monday, I’ll be in to cut two more checks."
Without another look back, she went to the door. She realized Wesley wasn’t behind her when she heard Angel call out, "Cordelia!" She looked back to see the only other human in the building scurrying toward the weapons cabinet. Honestly, he is a guy, isn’t he? she thought. Isn’t hitting some sort of traditional macho bonding thingy? Oh, that’s right. Wesley – macho, antonyms. She stomped over, closed the cabinet and pushed her mumbling co-worker out the door.
"Thanks, beautiful," Spike said before catching Angel off guard and pushing the elder’s foot hard enough to send him into a back flip. As Spike expected, Angel landed on his feet. "Didn’t think I could still do that, did ya?" he laughed.
"Very good, childe. I’m impressed," Angel praised as he sent a kick to Spike’s knee that landed the blonde on the floor once again. He was up before Angel had time to reach him. The younger vamp sent another left hook toward the elder one, but Angel was ready for it this time and ducked, ramming his shoulder into his childe’s gut.
Spike doubled over and Angel laughed, so Spike head-butted Angel’s chin as he got upright again. The unexpected hit sent Angel to the floor and the blonde laughed and extended a hand to help the other up. Angel took it with a smile, but pulled instead and used his leg to propel Spike up and over.
Spike remembered this act, it had come in handy many times to put their attackers off their game. By the time Spike rolled out of the flip, Angel was on his feet, fists raised and a wide grin on his face.
Spike removed his shirt and boots and said, "Come and get me, Peaches." Angel did the same. The real fight was on.
A little over an hour and a half later, both vampires were on the floor of Angel’s office, each leaning against a different side of the desk. Angel was settled, rather uncomfortably, against a set of drawers, Spike was lazing against the end next to him. Each had in his hand a bottle, Spike’s was Jose Cuervo, Angel’s was Crown Royal. Both were covered with a plethora of quickly healing bumps, scrapes, bruises and cuts. Angel had pulled a knife out from somewhere when the blonde wasn't looking.
"Angel, have I ever told you that you have the world’s ugliest feet?"
Angel examined the offending appendages. "No I don’t. I met this girl once in New Jersey, red hair, curves in all the right places, did things to me that even I had never imagined before. But damn, now she had the world’s fugliest feet!"
"You did a girl in New Jersey and didn’t loose the soul?"
"Nah, gotta be love to have perfect happiness. This girl was made for sex, not love," he smiled, "But there was definite happiness involved."
"Really?" Spike was shocked, but interested. "How long ago, she still around?"
"Course she is, I turned her, didn’t I? I’m souled, not stupid." He was offended that his childe had even asked.
"Turning her didn’t give the soul a little guilty twinge?" Spike was really curious now.
"No. She didn’t have much of a soul to begin with. Definite heretic. All kinds of weird ideas about God, psychotic, mad as a hatter – only had one real redeeming attribute. But she made the most of it, let me tell you." he replied, reminiscing.
"Dru mad or strange mad?" Spike was wary now.
"Strange mad. Even as a human, she stayed indoors all the time, hated sunlight – I’m telling you, the girl was meant to be a vampire."
"Really?" replied Spike, again. He took a long draw from his bottle. "I may have to take a trip to New Jersey one day. You know, meet and greet my sister," he sneered.
Angel sighed. "You know, I hadn’t thought about that. I can’t make love to Buffy because of the soul, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a monk does it? I may pay Kathleen a call myself." Unlife was looking up.
"Who’s Kafleen?" slurred Spike.
"The girl, the fugly feet girl, the one who knows more about sex than you and I put together."
"Oh. Thin’ she could take bof ov us?"
"Easy." Angel answered after emptying the rest of his bottle. "Willow." he said finally.
"Hm?" Spike reached for another bottle.
"Willow, your girlfriend. I don’t think she’d like it if you were to ‘meet and greet’ your sister."
"Do we haf'ta tell her?"
Angel didn’t say anything, just peered around the corner of the desk to send a questioning look at his childe.
Spike relented, "Oh, I know, Peaches, I know. Not that I ever would, anyway. Probably. No, definitely not. How good did you say this chit was? Never mind. Damn. No. But a guy can dream can’t he? That’s not against the bloody rules." he said as he slumped to the floor and fell asleep. Angel moved so that he could rest his head on Spike’s stomach. Just because Spike didn’t have a pillow didn’t mean that he had to suffer, Angel thought as he fell asleep.
Spike tried to move, but couldn’t. Something was weighing him down. He tried to shift the thing off of him so he could get comfortable. His sleep-groggy mind finally grasped that it would have to wake up first. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a stake, pointy end placed in a potentially dusty position.
The next thing he saw was a thin face, wearing spectacles. Now where did he know that face from? It seemed familiar, but the Jose had taken hold of his mental processes and it was slowing him down a little. "Willow!" he called, then heard Angel turn in his sleep, slapping a sleep-heavy hand across Spike’s chest as he did it. Spike remembered where he was. "Angel!"
Angel’s eyes didn’t open but his hand did reach out and feel the stake. He grabbed it quickly, going on pure instinct. When he opened his eyes, he sighed and asked, voice weary, "Wesley, what the hell are you doing to my childe?"
"Your childe? I thought he was Druscilla’s childe?"
Angel was tired of being asked this question. He was going to make Spike tell Buffy and everyone else in Sunnydale the truth if it was the last thing he did in his unlife. He grabbed his employee’s arm, forcefully pulling him off of Spike and asked again, "Wesley?"
"I was protecting you."
"From a sleeping vampire?"
"Well, yes. He wasn’t likely to let me tie him up while he was awake."
"You tied him up?" Angel roared. He looked down and saw Spike struggling to get free of the ropes that bound him. "Drink a little too much, Spike?" he leered.
"I didn’t see you soberin’ up long enough to kill the wanker. Untie me, you bloody poof!"
The dark vampire went around and pulled a rather large knife out of the center drawer of his desk. The ropes were gone very quickly. Spike had Wesley by the throat. "What the hell’s wrong with you, you bloody git? Angel doesn’t need protecting from me." Then a smile formed as he thought of something. He dropped the human. "But you’re gonna need protecting. And I’m not gonna touch ya." Wesley looked at Angel. "Poof’s not gonna touch ya either."
Angel started laughing and Wesley was getting terribly afraid. What was worse that Spike or Angel?
"Test should be over, oh, ‘bout 2:30. Which means she’ll be here be 4:15 latest on Friday – tomorrow." Spike said as Angel was doubled over, laughing.
"What?" was the ex-watcher’s confused reply.
Spike sat in the chair behind the desk, took out his cigarettes, remembered he wasn’t allowed to smoke in the hotel and put them back. Then he took them out again. He had almost been dust! Let Angel just try and stop him, if anyone deserved a cigarette it was him.
Angel calmed and decided to answer Wesley’s question since it didn’t look like Spike was going to. "The witch."
Still in the dark, Wes asked, "Witch?"
"Willow. Spike’s girlfriend, red hair, beautiful, about yeay tall," Angel said holding his hand at chest height. "Witch."
"What about her?" the obvious was still eluding him.
"She’ll be here tomorrow, after she’s through with a test, I gather. She’s not going to like it when I tell her what you did to Spike."
"Tell her? Why should you tell her?" he was pleading now. He didn’t know the girl had gotten that far in her Wiccan studies. "I was only protecting my employer after all. I’ve come to think of you as a friend, Angel, and I didn’t want-"
"Doesn’t matter what you want, ya git." Spike spat at him. Okay, so he was still holding a bit of a grudge.
Angel explained. "Wesley, Spike is my responsibility. Always. You don’t touch him, ever. He won’t hurt me, and if he ever gets above himself enough to try," he sent a smile in Spike’s direction and Spike sent him an air kiss back, "I’ll take care of it, do you hear me?" he asked, looking at Wes once again.
"Yes, boss." Wes answered, put out by the reprimand. "I was only trying to help."
"And I’ll appreciate it, I really will, if ever there comes a time when I need a hand. Now go home." He dismissed Wesley without a second thought and sat on the desk in front of Spike. "Looks like we’ve got about 24 hours until Red shows up, what do you want to do?" he asked with a grin.
"Beautiful?" Spike asked his sire, eyebrow raised in a teasing expression.