Title: Caught Between Two Lovers Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters belong to me. Feedback: Love some, thanks! Rating: Up to NC-17 Summary: A retelling of Spike and Buffy's first meeting. Starts in early season 2. For the purpose of the story, Angel does not exist and Spike is a little....different. Part Forty-four... As Long As You Love Me ~~~~~~~~~~ "Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine, I'm leaving my life in your hands People say I'm crazy and that I am blind Risking it all in a glance..." ~~~~~~~~~~ William watched as Joyce carried the teacups back to the kitchen, then leaned over and spoke quietly in Buffy's ear. "Don't give up now, luv. We're almost through the first phase." Buffy had sagged back into the sofa cushions as her mother left the room. She would have liked a little time to savor her initial success, but knew she wasn't likely to get it. Unfortunately, the nerve and bravado she carried so effortlessly about on her nocturnal jaunts was fast deserting her. "Do we have to do it all in one night?" she whis- pered, keeping her fingers crossed and trying to look as appealingly earnest as she could manage. "Why don't we save something for tomorrow night, or...or maybe next weekend?" But he just shook his head. "Baby, listen to me...your mother deserves to know it all. It'll be a lot easier on you if you just get it over with now." "I don't think so," she fretted. "Besides...I haven't even thought of the right way to tell her. I mean....this isn't the sort of thing you just casually mention." He caught her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "You can do this, slayer," he said firmly. "You can do anything you put your mind and heart to. Remember who you are....remember WHAT you are." "I'm trying." She brought her hand up and placed it over his. "But I'm afraid. She's...." "No, you're not." He shook his head and spoke over her. "You don't have a cowardly bone in your body!" **Oh, if only THAT were true then life would be a lot easier..** You just keep telling me that," she said, steeling her spine as well as she could. "I will." That tiny infusion of confidence instilled by his brief words was exactly what she needed. It gave her the courage to turn and face her mother as Joyce walked back into the room. "Mom...there's more," she blurted, jumping to her feet and trying for a brisk, matter-of-fact attitude by placing her hands on her hips and assuming a determined stance. "More what?" Joyce asked, glancing from Buffy to William, then back to Buffy. "More....more to tell you." Buffy swallowed hard. "And you'd better sit down....'cause it's big. Majorly big. Oh, boy....is it big." Joyce lowered herself into her armchair, visibly trying to prepare herself for what sounded like it was going to be a nasty surprise. "All right....fire away." Buffy's hands were freezing cold, but she could still feel sweat beginning to trickle down her back, making her itch. "Okay, well...it's like this....You see, I....do you maybe want a drink or something?" Her mother stared at her, eyes widening with alarm. "Is is THAT bad?" Joyce asked softly, hoping like hell she was going to be able to take whatever it was her child was finding so hard to say. A thousand horrible imaginings raced through her mind at once, ranging from previously undetected illness to expulsion from school to the possibility of law enforce- ment showing up at the door. Lacing her fingers together, she shook her head, declining Buffy's offer to bring her something alcoholic to cushion whatever blow was coming her way. "Just tell me what you need to tell me, honey," she said, attempting to look enencouragingly maternal, with fortitude enough to take anything. "I don't need a drink." ~~~~~~~~~~ "And how you got me blind is still a mystery I can't get you out of my head I don't care what's written in your history As long as you're here with me..." ~~~~~~~~~~ "A little more?" William asked, holding the scotch bottle over Joyce's quickly emptied glass. The ice tinkled against the crystal clutched in her shaking fingers. "Maybe....just a drop." He poured another finger of scotch into the glass, then sat down with the bottle still in his hand, ready to refill should she require it. Buffy was back on the sofa, her small fingers digging into the throw pillow her grandmother had hand embroidered and her teeth sunk painfully into her lower lip....waiting. Joyce tossed back the scotch, then placed her glass carefully on the coffee table. Folding her hands to- gether, she finally turned to face her daughter. "All right," she said calmly. "Let's take it from the top. You're a...?" Buffy's voice was a bit wobbly, but audible. "A vampire slayer." "You mean vampires really...exist? With teeth and blood and...so on?" "Uh-huh." "And you....." Buffy waited a moment, then filled in the blank again. "Slay them." "With a.....?" "Stake. Usually." "Usually?" "Yeah....sometimes I....I cut off their.." She drew her forefinger across the front of her neck. "That works, too." Joyce was silent for a moment, then asked, "And how did you get this job?" "Well, I didn't apply for it," Buffy mumbled. "It just sort of....found me. It's not exactly a job," she added. "It's more of a...kind of a...." "Calling," William supplied. "Yeah. That." Her gaze met his for a moment, then rested once again on her mother. "I was sort of...chosen for it." "Chosen...by whom?" Joyce asked, wondering briefly if she was in the middle of some preposterous dream and whether there was a possibility of waking up from it anytime soon. That hope died hard after digging her nails rather painfully into the palms of her hands and coming to the conclusion that she was definitely awake. Unfortunately, this was all too real. Buffy opened her mouth to reply, then looked a bit perplexed. "I'm not...totally sure. I should probably ask Giles. He would know." Joyce frowned, recognizing the name. "Mr. Giles from your school? The school librarian? THAT Mr. Giles?" "Um, yeah....that's him." "What does HE have to do with all this?" "He's my Watcher?" "Your watcher? You mean he watches you when you...when you go and.....?" "Slay vampires," Buffy said. "But that's not ALL he does," she went on quickly, feeling a sudden need to beef up Giles' participation in the fun and games that made up her life. "I see. Well, what else does he do?" Joyce asked, massaging her temples to keep her head from exploding. "Oh....lots of stuff. Research and.....um...." Her mother gave her a speculative look, waiting. "Well, research is important," Buffy stressed. "It's a very key element in the whole slayer...thing. Really very....VERY key." William, who'd been silent to this point, added, "He trains her, teaches her how to fight, how to use her weapons. You might call it hand- to-hand combat." "Yes! Yes, he does all that, too." Buffy eagerly jumped on to his explanation, smiling a little too brightly. "Thank you." Joyce wasn't quite ready to move on yet. "But if he can train you...teach you all these...well, Buffy, he's a grown man. You're just a sixteen year old girl. If he can do it, why isn't HE the...you know?" "Because they didn't choose him," Buffy said. "They chose ME. Slayers are girls, they always have been." "How many of you are there?" Joyce asked. "You mean at the moment?" Buffy looked down, picking at a loose embroidery thread. "Just one," she said softly, silently praying that her mother wouldn't force her to reveal the reason there was always a new slayer waiting for the present one to exit stage left. The threads were unraveling in Buffy's fingers as she shot William a pleading glance. He smiled so slightly that the expression wouldn't have even registered with anyone but her. Small as the gesture was, it helped her to remember exactly why she was finally fessing up to her mother about her nightly activity. ~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't care who you are Where you're from, what you did As long as you love me..." ~~~~~~~~~~ Joyce turned to William. "Did you know about this?" "I did, yes," he admitted. "And you approve?" "It's not my place to approve or disapprove. This is what she is," he said simply. As he sat there, he was beginning to wonder if it might not be better to hold back HIS particular surprise for another day, to give her time to adjust and get to know him. If he could show her by words and deeds that he wasn't precisely the same vampire he'd been before meeting her daughter, it could quite possibly win her to their side when it was time to break the news to Buffy's watcher and her friends. He cared less than nothing for their opinions, but he knew that Buffy was going to need all the help she could get, and support from her mother would no doubt go a long way. "Joyce....Buffy isn't like other girls her age," he said. "She has....abilities. It's part of what makes her a slayer, and it's what makes her so good at it." "But isn't it dangerous?" "For the vampires?" He permitted himself a small grin. "Very." ~~~~~~~~~~ "Every little thing That you have said and done Feels like it's deep within me Doesn't really matter if you're on the run It seems like we're meant to be..." ~~~~~~~~~~ Joyce felt like she was foundering in a sea of con- fusion and disbelief. Vampires! Vampires actually existed somewhere other than in books and on movie screens. It was a difficult concept to wrap ones head around, and all she had to fall back on was the scanty knowledge she'd picked up from those books and movies. And who knew if that could really be depended on? Vampires bit people's necks and drained them of their blood, she knew that much. They seemed to be uncommonly strong and in possession of the ability to mesmerize their victims into compliance. Sometimes, instead of just killing their prey, they instead made them into vampires as well, although she seemed to remember that it took more than a mere bite to accomplish it. There was more, she knew. Something to do with crosses and holy water, and hadn't she heard some- thing about garlic, too? Coffins. Mirrors. Transmog- rification into wolves and bats and chill mists. So bizarre. So unimaginable. So inconceivable, that such things truly existed. But as strangely impossible as all that surely was, it was outweighed by the stomach churning notion that Buffy....her five foot nothing, 98 pounds soaking wet daughter...was some sort of supernatural exterminator. If it WAS all true, the world was in a pretty sorry place. But if it WASN'T true, then Buffy's choo-choo had definitely jumped the track. At the moment, she couldn't decide which of those two choices was preferable. "What are these abilities you have?" she asked. The fully opened rose stitched into the pillow was becoming a bud beneath Buffy's destructive touch. "Well," she said, "For one thing...I'm really strong." "How strong?" "Oh...I'm pretty strong," Buffy replied, going to work on the rose's stem. "I could lift this couch over my head if I wanted to....." Joyce's jaw sagged. "....and toss it....oh, maybe twenty feet or so." Buffy peeked up through her bangs. "I can run really fast, too, and I can jump a ten foot retaining wall from a dead stop. Oh, and I can hit a bullseye with a knife from about a hundred feet away." "You throw knives?" "Um...yeah. Sometimes." "Are they made of wood?" The unexpected question threw Buffy for a moment. "No." "Then how do you slay vampires with them? I thought they had to be.." Joyce swallowed hard. "...staked through the heart with wood." "Well, that's true," Buffy said. "But I slay other things, too. Other kinds of demons." Joyce closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "How many 'other kinds' of demons ARE there?" "Oh, gee....too many to count." Upon hearing that, Joyce picked up her glass and held it out to William. "I'll say 'when'. " ~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't care who you are Where you're from, what you did As long as you love me Who you are, where you're from Don't care what you did As long as you love me..." ~~~~~~~~~~ "So, aside from the things you've already mentioned, do you have any other special abilities?" Joyce asked. Buffy thought for a moment. "I know seven different martial arts." She counted on her fingers. "I can use a sword, a crossbow, a quarter staff, axes, staves, daggers, spears, and a bullwhip." William turned to look at her. "A bullwhip?" he asked softly. "Really?" She nodded earnestly. "Mm-hmm." "I don't suppose I can just forbid you to be 'the slayer', can I?" "Well, you COULD," Buffy said, "but I'd still have to do it." Joyce pondered the reply. "I can lock you in your room and nail the window shut." Knowing exactly what Buffy was about to say, a small smile tugged at the corner of William's mouth. "Yes, but I can break the lock and pull the nails out," Buffy said seriously, completely missing the resigned and slightly amused tone in her mother's voice. Weaving only a little, more from a lingering shock to her nerves than the alcohol she'd consumed, Joyce rose to her feet. "Maybe sometime...you can show me. This is obviously a big part of your life, and I should see just exactly what you do." Buffy stood up, wiping her clammy palms on the seat of her jeans. "Oh, good idea," she said cheerily, while inside she was screaming 'no' so loudly that the blood was pounding in her ears. ~~~~~~~~~~ "I've tried to hide it so that no one knows But I guess it shows When you look into my eyes What you did and where you're coming from I don't care, as long as you love me, baby..." ~~~~~~~~~~ Behind Joyce's turned back, William also stood up and met Buffy's gaze. He smiled at her, lifting the scotch bottle in his hand to acknowledge her courage, telling her with his eyes that he was proud of her. The battles still to come could be fought another day. His beautiful and brave little slayer was all worn out. Maybe it was time for her to have a little fun. ~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't care who you are Where you're from, what you did As long as you love me...." ~~~~~~~~~~ TBC.....