Latter Days by Enigmaticblue

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Chapter 21: An Undisclosed Location in the Lake District, England

“…Giles wanted Spike to go back, but we’re so close to where the new Slayer is that I convinced him to let us go together. I thought we’d get back faster that way, too. I’ll be sure to call when we’ve got her. Tell Vi and Audra that we owe them dinner for taking Spike’s classes for so long…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Dawn Summers

“Ready to go?”

“Just a sec.” Buffy hit the send button and shut down the laptop. She hadn’t wanted to take the computer with them, but it was the best way to stay in touch and yet be able to control the amount of contact. Phone calls had a tendency to come at the worst possible moment.

Spike had already picked up her bag, and she followed him out of their room. “Are you sure about the laundry thing? Because we could probably stop and get an extra change of clothes for you.”

“You saying that I smell?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. I just thought—”

“Luv, you’ll remember that I didn’t wear much the last few days. My clothing will last a bit longer.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You just want a chance to dress me,” he accused, the light dawning.

She shrugged. “I can’t say that it didn’t occur to me.”

Spike closed the trunk and opened Buffy’s door for her. “What is it with you birds and buyin’ clothes?”

“It’s encoded in our genes.” She buckled up and turned in her seat so that she would be facing him. “I’m hoping that you know the city, because all I have is an address.”

“Dumfries isn’t that big,” he replied. “If we have to, we’ll stop and ask for directions.”

“Did I just hear that right?” Buffy asked. “You, a man, would stop and ask for directions?”

He glared at her. “I want to get back to Bath just like you do. I’ve got Slayers to see to.”

“Spending time with your girlfriend should be more important.”

“It should be,” he agreed. “But until evil takes a rest, it’s gonna have to run a very close second.”

She couldn’t fault him for his reasoning, even if some part of her would have preferred the Spike who called himself her willing slave. Those days were long gone, though, and good riddance, really. “You really like that job, huh?”

“They’re my responsibility,” he said quietly. “An’ when I send them out, I want to make bloody sure they’re comin’ back alive.”

Buffy reached over to grasp his hand. “It’s your job to keep them alive now.”

“Killed a couple. I should know how to do the reverse.”

It wasn’t often that Spike talked about his past—and the attendant guilt—these days. For the most part, it seemed as though it didn’t bother him, although Buffy knew that wasn’t precisely true.

“I think that dying to save the world more than makes up for anything you did in the past.”

“It’s not like that, though, is it?” When Spike looked at her, his blue eyes were deathly serious. “That’s what you told me when you thought you’d killed that girl.”

It wasn’t the first time Buffy’s words had come back to bite her, but she still didn’t appreciate it. “Fine. But in the grand scheme of things, you’ve done a lot of good, Spike.”

“I don’t think about it all the time,” Spike said softly. “The guilt—doesn’t do anybody any good, does it? I could wallow like Angel, or I could do somethin’ useful.”

“I think you made the right choice.”

There were a lot of things that they had been able to say to one another recently—probably because they hadn’t been able to touch, which seemed to shut down their ability to think. Buffy knew that’s what it did to her.

Still, with everything that had been said, there were a few things that she didn’t think she’d made clear.

“When you died, I hated the fact that you were gone,” she began. “But I was really proud of you, too.”

Buffy could see his free hand tighten on the steering wheel, and his jaw tightened. At first, she couldn’t figure out what would have upset him, and then she realized that he was trying to control his emotions for another reason.

“Yeah?” he finally managed.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~

How they had made it almost six days without one argument, Spike had no idea. Perhaps it had to do with the lack of time they’d spent together. He knew how precious each moment with Buffy was, and there was no way he was going to start a fight—unless he knew that it was going to end with makeup sex. He had a feeling that Buffy felt the same way.

He’d been amused when she’d put her foot down with Giles. Dumfries wasn’t very far from where they were vacationing, and there was no real hurry for Spike to get back since Vi and Audra were doing such a good job. Didn’t it make more sense for her to have backup picking up the new Slayer?

Giles had agreed with her, for whatever reason, and now they were driving to Scotland in a rental car, because the train wasn’t going to leave soon enough for the head Watcher.

Spike didn’t know much about Dumfries, other than the fact that it was smaller town and economically disadvantaged. The population was declining because most of the younger ones were off finding jobs elsewhere, and with one thing leading to another, the jobs were leaving as well.

“Let’s see that address again,” Spike said.

Buffy showed him the piece of paper she’d scribbled it down on, and Spike nodded, taking the next left. “I’ll ask at the next petrol station.”

Buffy smiled. “You’re sounding more British every day, you know?”

“Nothin’ like bein’ back in the home country,” was his rejoinder.

“I’ll go,” she said as soon as he pulled to a stop. “You can pretend that you found it all by yourself.”

Spike watched as she entered the gas station, trying to figure out how he’d been so lucky, and unable to come up with an answer. Supposedly, Giles was having some people work on figuring out what the amulet had really been meant for, but he didn’t much care. It had worked out all right in the end, right? So what it did it matter what the initial plan had been?

Of course, even as that thought went through his head, Spike knew that it probably had a greater impact than he wanted to think about.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Buffy announced, sliding into the passenger seat.

She directed him through the narrow streets past houses and tenements. “Do we know anything about this girl?”

Buffy shook her head. “I guess the coven thought she might be a little younger than most, but other than that, no. I don’t really want another baby Slayer, though.”

“They’re all babies, luv,” Spike replied. “Relatively speaking.”

“Relative to you, maybe,” she said sighing. “It’s just—I was Chosen when I was fifteen, Spike. I lost out on most of my childhood, but some of these girls won’t even have that much.”

Spike wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He loved the fact that Buffy was the Slayer; he loved her strength and her power, although as he’d told her, it wasn’t just the fact that she was the Slayer that had drawn him in. She hadn’t given up; she’d tried, even when the odds were stacked against her.

If the truth was to be told, that’s what had always drawn Spike to the Slayers, first as their Slayer, then as their Champion. He’d always been a sucker for the underdog, having been one himself.

“Would you choose differently?”

“You mean, if I’d had a choice?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. “No.”

“Maybe they’d say the same,” he suggested.

She was quiet for a long moment. “I wouldn’t choose differently because I wouldn’t have you or Dawn otherwise. The same can’t be said for the other Slayers.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

~~~~~

There were moments when Buffy wondered whether or not it had been worth it. She knew that they’d had little choice but to activate the potentials in order to defeat the First, but when she saw the many girls whose childhoods had been effectively ended as a result, she wondered if there hadn’t been another way.

Finding out that there was another Slayer, this one younger and likely with parents who were going to fight the idea of their little girl battling demons, just made those questions all the more overwhelming. Heck, she’d been seventeen when her mom had found out, and Joyce had had plenty of difficulties accepting it.

“It’s just up there,” she said, pointing up the narrow street towards a nondescript house, lit only by a streetlamp and the lights of their vehicle. They probably should have left the Lake District earlier in the day, but neither of them had been in a hurry to end their vacation.

As Spike pulled to a stop, he turned to look at her. “Look, luv, I know that you have mixed feelings about activating the potentials, but there wasn’t a choice.”

“It was my plan,” Buffy said quietly. “My decision.”

“And every decision has consequences,” he agreed. “But the consequences to not making that choice might have been much worse.”

“Might have,” Buffy confirmed. “Or we would have survived, and these girls would still be normal. We’re having a surge in demon activity because of the spell we did.”

Spike shook his head. “There’s no way of knowin’ that.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I guess it just shakes me up every time I have to pick one of these kids up. The worst part is explaining to their parents what’s going on.”

“You want me to do that?”

Buffy shrugged. “Let’s see which one of us they like better.”

They walked up the front walk towards the door, and Spike’s arm came out to stop her. “Hang on, pet. We’ve got a problem.”

“What?” Buffy saw the front door hanging off its hinges, and she felt her heart sink. “Oh, shit.”

“Pretty much what I was thinkin’,” Spike replied grimly. “Hang on.”

She pulled out her stake and waited for Spike to rejoin her. She knew without being told that he was going back for the weapons in the trunk.

“Here.”

She took the extra stake he handed to her and looked at the ax in his hand. “I don’t get one of those?”

“There was only one.”

“Fine.”

Entering the house together, Buffy thought that it was just like old times back in Sunnydale, only better. They had never been this in tune with one another, nor had they ever been so close. It had been entirely too long since they had fought side by side.

“Anybody here?” Buffy whispered.

“Two heartbeats,” he confirmed. “Dunno whether there’s anybody else here, though.”

She nodded, and then motioned for him to lead. Spike would have a better idea of where the humans were located based on his enhanced senses, and the ax would be effective against just about anything they might face.

The roar came just before the demon appeared. Spike met it with his ax, which it clearly wasn’t expecting, because it didn’t move out of the way. Green blood splattered over the wall as it was eviscerated, and a second blow cracked its skull open.

The demon collapsed, but Buffy sensed something approaching from behind. She whirled to see the yellow eyes of a vampire, the gleaming white of fangs. Her stake found its heart without conscious thought on her part. She probably could have dusted vampires in her sleep.

“Duck!”

She hit the floor, and a moment later felt dust scatter around her. “What?”

“Another one.” He held out a hand to pull her up. “Come on. I think the survivors are around here somewhere.”

“Survivors?”

“There’s blood.” His expression was grim.

This time, the cry was distinctly human, and very young. Buffy moved instinctively, coming between Spike and the young girl wielding a broken chair leg. She disarmed the child easily—the girl was small and untrained—and held her tightly to prevent her escape.

“Easy,” Buffy said. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

“Let me go!”

“Relax.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“No, you really won’t,” Buffy said. “I’m a Slayer, just like you, and we’re here to help. So relax.”

“You’re with a bloody vampire!” the girl cried, still squirming.

Spike took a step closer and held out the ax. “Would this make you feel better?” He nodded at Buffy, who grimaced but let her go.

The young Slayer didn’t run; instead, she reached out for the ax and took it from Spike’s hands, glancing at the body of the dead demon. “Why don’t you want to kill me?”

“Because I get off on savin’ Slayers,” Spike replied.

She stared at him and returned the ax. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I fell in love with one,” he returned. “Now, where’s your friend?”

She shook her head. “He’s not my friend. He’s my little brother.”

“Where are your parents?” Buffy asked.

Her face twisted in an attempt to stave off tears. “They—I couldn’t—”

Buffy grabbed her in a hug. “I know. Where’s your brother?”

She pointed at a closet, and Spike took three quick steps to open the door. A little boy of about seven came tumbling out, latching onto him tightly. “Yeah, that’s right, lad. You’re safe now.” He glanced at Buffy. “We need to get them out of here.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

He frowned. “S’pose we’d better. If we don’t, we’ll have a bloody manhunt on our hands when they realize the kids are missin’.”

There was a crash from another area of the house, and Buffy cursed. “I think we’d better call from somewhere else.”

She watched as Spike picked the little boy up effortlessly, clutching him close. “Got him.”

Buffy rushed the girl out of the house, keeping a grip on her stake and a sharp eye out for more trouble. They were just out the front door when a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards, causing her to let out a sharp cry.

Rage welled up, and Buffy reached behind her, finding the thing’s head and twisting around, pulling its head off. “Go!” she yelled at Spike, seeing that he’d slowed down.

Picking up her dropped stake, Buffy followed them out. “In the car!”

Spike practically threw the boy in the backseat, and slid behind the wheel. Buffy ushered the girl into the back next to her brother, snarling as she saw another vampire running towards them. Throwing her last stake, she watched as it crumbled into dust, and climbed in.

“Nice throw,” Spike said.

“Thanks.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Giles’ number. When her Watcher answered, she said, “We’re safe, but we had some problems.”

“What sort of problems?” he asked.

“They’d already been attacked when we arrived. The Slayer was able to protect herself and her brother, but—” Buffy stopped, mindful of the children in the backseat.

Giles cleared his throat. “I see. Did you get their names? I can send in the authorities.”

“What are your parents’ names?” Buffy asked, deliberately using the present tense to avoid upsetting them further.

The girl’s freckled face was pale in the moonlight. “Shannon and Ed Murray,” she replied. “I’m Nora, and my brother is Harry.”

Buffy passed the information along. “We’re going to get a hotel room for the rest of the night. We couldn’t stick around long enough to call the police from the house.”

“Of course not. I’ll likely tell them that the children were staying with friends of the family,” Giles said. “That should reduce the questions. We’ll make further arrangements tomorrow. Call me when you can.”

Buffy knew what he meant. She was to call him when they weren’t around the kids, when she could speak freely. “Will do.”

She ended the call, staring out the window, taking slow breaths. The fight wasn’t what had freaked her out—it was the idea of a couple of kids in the backseat who had just watched their parents die. She and Spike were responsible for them now.

“You two hungry?” Spike was the one to ask, breaking the silence.

There was a moment of silence, and Buffy thought she heard a deep, shuddering sigh, as though one of them was or had been crying. “No,” Nora said. “We had dinner.”

Buffy realized that she hadn’t explained anything. She had to figure out something to tell them, to explain why it was that monsters had killed their parents and wanted to kill them, who she and Spike were, and why they had arrived in time to save the two of them, but not their parents.

She had no words.

“Um, miss?”

Buffy turned around in her seat to face the two of them. Harry had been the one to speak, his hazel eyes wet with unshed tears. “What’s your name, miss?”

She summoned up a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “I’m Buffy, and this is Spike. We’re going to take care of you guys. I promise.”

They nodded in unison, likely too traumatized to argue just then, perhaps relieved to have the decision-making taken out of their hands. She turned back around, and her eyes met Spike’s.

This time, when her hand sought his, it was for her own comfort.

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