Buffy traced the shape of the cross around her neck with absent fingers. She smiled slightly, remembering when Angel had given it to her. //So long ago...//
//How many years? God, at least ten... It feels like forever.// So much had changed since. Willow and Tara had married once California passed the law making same-sex marriage legal, then had moved to New York for a change in scenery. She still got letters gushing about how happy they were. Anya had taken over running the magic shop after Giles was killed by an upstart gang of vampires with something to prove. Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat at the thought of her mentor's death. //I should have been there...//
But she pushed the thoughts away. She hadn't known, and she had taken out every member of the gang afterwards, pushing all her friends and loved ones away in her frenzy for vengeance, including Riley, who had left town. //When was the last time I heard from him?// It had to have been at least a year. Maybe two. Buffy sighed softly. Xander had left Sunnydale as well, moved to San Francisco and married a nice, normal pastry chef with blonde hair and blue eyes.
//Spike and Anya. They're all I've got.//
Spike remained a mystery to her. They had formed an at-first uneasy cease-fire and had eventually settled into a full-blown truce. When she needed him, he came, helping as best he could with the chip still in his head. They talked, patrolled together sometimes, and he was the closest thing to a friend she had left since Anya blamed the Slayer for driving Xander away despite any lack of a logical reason for doing so.
A noise toward the back of the cemetery broke her reverie and the Slayer's head snapped up, eyes instantly picking out an impossibly tall figure walking in her direction. //Bet he thinks he's hot stuff stalking around here in all black... and a cape... and the weirdest hat...// She frowned. There was something odd about the man, something odd and vaguely familiar. "Who are you?" she called as he drew closer, wishing her tone sounded less uncertain, more commanding.
He remained silent, and as he drew closer, Buffy could make out the outline of a sword slung holstered on his back. //And here I thought stakes were still all the rage.// "What do you want?" she demanded, this time managing something more of her usual self-assurance. The man was armed and not talking, which automatically gave him a label to the Slayer. //Trouble.//
Finally he stood a few feet away and Buffy could see dark eyes peering out from under the hat, though the man's face was obscured by the collar of his cloak. "Last call for introductions before I start killing you," she warned, unsure why she even bothered.
"My name is D."
"Well that just clears it right up for me. Thanks ever so much." //So he can talk... and not such a bad voice either...// "Here looking all armed and mysterious for a reason or is it just something you get off on?"
"Years ago you fought and defeated Count Dracula."
"Yeah... And?" Buffy could feel tension building in her shoulders. Fighting Dracula had proved harder even than fighting Angelus. //He had so much control over me...//
"He is on his way here."
//Shit!// "So you're... what? One of his flunkies? The new Renfield? I don't have time for flunkies. If he wants me, he'd damn well better come and get me him-"
"I'm a vampire hunter."
"Oh." Buffy's brow furrowed. "But Slayers are women. And there's already two of us." //Even if one of us is in prison.//
He nodded, a gesture so subtle that anyone not watching with almost painful intensity might have missed it. "I am not a Slayer, merely a hunter."
"Oh. Okay." Buffy allowed herself to relax slightly, leaning back against a nearby mausoleum and pushing her long blond hair back behind her ears. "So you've got some kind of bone to pick with the Count?"
"Something like that."
"Good then. I've been short of backup lately." //To say the least.// "I'm kind of assuming you know who I am already. Wouldn't be here otherwise, right?"
"You're Buffy Summers. You're the Slayer."
"Those are the basics, yeah. So do you just like the air of mystery that hiding behind all that fabric gives you or are you some kind of deformed demon? Not that I'd mind if you were. I just like knowing what my friends look like."
The man hesitated a moment, then pulled off his hat and folded down his collar. Buffy couldn't help but to let her eyes go a little wide. He was gorgeous. Long auburn hair spilled down into his cloak. His features were angular and refined. And vaguely familiar. She tilted her head to the side. "I could swear I've seen you somewhere before..."
D's dark eyes moved from her face to the ground and then back again. "Dracula is my father."
"But vampires can't have children," Buffy protested immediately.
"They can."
Buffy almost tried to continue the argument, but it was obvious that she wasn't going to get very far. //A man of few words to say the least.// "So a couple vamps got together and-"
"My mother was human."
"Oh-kay." Frowning, the Slayer tried to figure out how D's story fit into her knowledge of vampires. "I'm beginning to think I've been fighting the low-end models all this time," she finally concluded with a sigh. "So vampires can have children?"
"Yes."
"With humans?"
"Yes."
"And where does that leave you? How much do you take after daddy dearest, if you catch my drift?" He seemed suddenly uncomfortable, so Buffy continued, "No need to be shy. I used to date a regular ol' bumpy-faced vamp. Hell, my only friend now is one. This is just for Buffy's useless information file, okay?"
"I do crave blood, but I do not need it to survive. And then there's..." D pulled off his left glove and held the hand out toward her, palm up.
"Hel-lo there, sweet thing! What brings a pretty girl like you to a nasty place l-Hey!"
D quickly tugged the glove on again. "I'm sorry. He... is a bit uncivilized."
"You... have a talking face in your hand." Buffy somehow managed to keep her voice completely level.
"Yes."
"Nice. D, has anyone ever told you that you're a very... interesting person?"
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Many people have."
Buffy pulled her jacket off the second they entered her apartment and threw it down on her coffee table. "Feel free to sit anywhere you'd like. And to push anything that's thrown where you want to sit onto the floor," she added, realizing with a sudden flash of embarrassment that the apartment was a sty. "I don't spend a lot of time on housework."
Without a word, D moved to a chair that had relatively few things piled onto it. Lifting the shirt, bra, and plate that occupied the chair, he set them onto the coffee table and sat down. Buffy could feel her face growing hot. "Sorry about that."
His gaze shifted from studying the room to her face. "There's nothing to be sorry about."
"You're just too nice," she replied, walking into the kitchen area. "Want some coffee or something?"
"No, thank you."
"Suit yourself. If I'm going to stay awake through hearing whatever the hell fang boy is up to now, I need caffeine." There was complete silence in the apartment as she made the coffee, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Buffy was more used to silence than conversation, and D's presence did not compel her to speak. In fact, she felt at ease as she went about her usual nighttime routine of coffee in the living room, something that generally preceded a second shift of patrolling or a visit from Spike.
"So," Buffy finally said, breaking the silence as she settled onto the couch and curled her legs beneath her, "Dracula's having himself a little comeback tour, eh?"
"Something like that, yes. He seems to have a certain fascination with you, actually."
Buffy took a sip of her coffee. "I just have all the luck. Question: How did you find out Drac was on his way?"
"I pay attention."
Deciding a full inquisition would be useless and time-consumming, Buffy replied, "Fair enough." The Slayer tilted her head. "So what does he want? Revenge because I kicked his ass way back when?"
"A companion, a bride. You."
"Yea. That's just... wonderful. Really. I *so* need some creep fixating on me right now... no offense."
"None taken."
"But he is a creep."
"At times."
Buffy nodded her approval of the response. "Another question: Why do you want to off your dad?"
D allowed himself a slight smile. "I don't exactly. I bear him no ill will. I will not let him harm you, however."
"Because I'm just such a nice girl?"
"Because of all the good you can do the world."
"You know, women who complain that men only care about them because they're pretty should see what I have to put up with. People only help me because I'm the Slayer." Buffy laughed at her own bitterness. "Sorry. Old rant that was just dying to come out. Alright, so Drac shows up and... we stake him? Because that really didn't seem to do the job last time."
"We will have to be more thorough than that. First his head must be removed, then both his body and head burned. Then, his ashes much be scattered."
"They just can't make this easy, can they? Gotta be all complicated and stupid about it." Buffy sighed and let her head fall back against the couch, forcing her muscles to relax. "Okay, fine. We do the ritualistic stuff. When should he be here?"
"He should arrive tonight. We will face him tomorrow."
Buffy sighed again. "Goody."
"You can take the bed. I'll do the couch thing tonight," Buffy told her new partner, rising to clear the couch of its clothes and other random debris. "I wouldn't wish this on fang boy himself."
"I'll be fine on the couch. Thank you. I sleep very little."
"You sure? I mean, it's not exactly a nice couch. It's sort of lumpy and old and... then there's the fact that it's brown plaid. I bought it at a garage sale." Buffy shifted uncomfortably and smiled. "On the sad side."
"It will be fine."
She shrugged. "If you insist. I'm certainly not gonna force you to be comfortable," she added with a quiet laugh. "Night, D. See you dark and late tomorrow."
"Good night." He watched as she walked into the adjoining room and shut the door. A sudden muffled outburst from his left hand drew his attention, and D removed his gloves. "Yes?"
"For God's sake, man, have you absolutely no sex drive whatsoever?" At D's pointed glare, the symbiot merely continued, "The woman is obviously attracted to you. And she made sure to ever-so-casually mention that she's had relations with a vampire before. And did you *look* at her? No wonder your father is obsessed with her!"
"I am concerned for her safety. We are working together. Anything else-"
"Is something that any other man with a pulse wouldn't be able to keep his mind off of! She's got legs up to her neck, eyes a man could drown in and her assets are considera-"
"Stop."
"I'm only saying that-"
"Please stop. It's not possible, and I prefer to keep my mind where it belongs-on keeping her safe." D lay down on the couch, which was just small enough to leave his legs dangling over its arm from the knees down. "Go to sleep."
"Oh, very well. But I'm telling you, she-"
"Sleep. Now."
"Yes, Master," the symbiot replied sarcastically before drifting into a sullen silence.
"C'mon, Slayer, open the bloody door! I can't stand out here with my coat over my head for the rest of the day! C'MON!" The door swung open and Spike found himself face to face with a complete stranger. "Where's Buffy?" he asked, pushing past the man and into the slayer's apartment. He slid the black leather duster back down to his shoulders. "What've you done with her?"
"Spike, God, can't you just for five minutes try not to be an ass," Buffy chided, walking into the room, still toweling off her hair, though she seemed otherwise decently attired.
"Who's 'e?"
"Spike, this is D. D, this is Spike. You know how I mentioned my only friend is a vampire? This would be him," she said, hoping the use of the word "friend" wouldn't go to Spike's head. "He's not as obnoxious as he seems. Not all the time, anyway."
Choosing to ignore Buffy's comments for better or worse, Spike continued, "What's 'e doing 'ere?"
"You could talk to him yourself, you know." Without waiting for him to do so, she continued, "D's here to help me fight Dracula."
"Dracula? That wanker doesn't know when to give up, does 'e? We'll take him down a notch. Not lettin' 'im run around my town anymore. Not still owin' me money! Bloody poof should-"
"You know Dracula?" D asked, speaking for the first time since Spike's entrance.
"We go way back, Drac 'n' me. What's it to ya?" When D made no reply, Spike snorted and sat down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Doesn't talk much, does 'e?"
"Not really," Buffy replied with a slight smile, sitting down next to the vampire. "D seems to be the strong silent type." The man in question sat down in a nearby chair. "So, Spike, you gonna help? You can be lookout or something."
"Hey! I can beat up on vamps with the best of 'em. So long as Drac 'asn't gone human since the last time 'e came, I have as much a chance against 'im as either of you," Spike protested.
Buffy patted Spike's arm gently. "No arguments here. I just figured me and D would be the heavy artillery." Before Spike could protest again, she continued, "If you insist on beating the guy up and taking back your lunch money or whatever, I'm not going to stand in your way."
"That's the spirit, Slayer!" Spike crowed with a broad grin. "We'll go in and kick some ass!"
D spoke again, "This is not a game. Facing Dracula will be difficult, and-"
"He's not so tough as all that. I remember this one time we got ourselves smashed and decided to duke it out just for kicks. 'E didn't exactly come out o' it without any bruises, mate. Fact of it is, I kicked 'is ass."
"And he's gotten stronger since then," Buffy reminded him. "He fought me and almost won. There's not a whole lot of people who can say that. You never came as close as he did." The Slayer's voice was growing steadily more quiet. "He came damn close. Too damn close."
"Hey, now, the bloke just got lucky." Spike put his arm around Buffy's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You got 'im good last time, and you'll do the same this time. Got even better 'elp than you did then, and you've gotten better too, stronger."
"Older. Spike, I'm not eighteen anymore."
"Not exactly a fossil either, luv."
"For a Slayer, I am." Buffy sighed and laid her head on Spike's shoulder. "Doesn't help that while I'm over here aging you keep staying young. You could at least have the decency to get a receding hairline or something," she teased.
"I'll look into it. Maybe get m'self some o' those grandpa pants too, eh?"
"That'd be good." Buffy shook her head and turned to D. "Sorry. We're sort of each other's moral support network. Not that ol' Spike has any morals. Still, he's a pretty good therapist. And a very nice pillow."
"Never knew ya thought so much o' me, Slayer."
"Hush, you! Anyway, we're what we've got, so..." she shrugged, "we just sort of spaz out when we're together. May take some getting used to for you."
"It isn't a problem," D replied quietly.
Buffy caught the faintest hint of sadness in his tone and wondered if it was her own mind trying to add inflection, emotion where there was none or if it hurt him to see two people who were close like she and Spike were. //He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who has lots of friends... or any.// She frowned slightly but decided any further exploration of the subject would best be done later. "So... tonight, huh?"
"Yes." D's gaze strayed briefly to the clock hanging on the wall. "The sun goes down in five hours."
"Yeah... So what do we do until then?" she asked, silently praying there wasn't some annoyingly complicated ancient ritual to perform.
"We wait."
"Oh."
"Give me the remote, Spike!"
"But, Slayer-"
"NOW!"
"Bloody 'ell. Just because you can hit me and I can't 'it you--OW!"
Buffy wrenched the remote control out of Spike's hand and turned the CD player off. "God, I knew I never should have let you bring those Sex Pistol CDs over! If I have to listen to 'My Way' one more time, I swear I will stake you!"
"You wouldn't do that, Slayer. You like me too damn much. 'Sides, I was just about to ask for requests. Honestly!"
With a sigh, Buffy looked to D, who had spent a greater part of the three hours since their previous conversation sitting and watching Buffy and Spike bickering good-naturedly. "How about you? What's your music of choice?"
"How about some Metallica, babe?" a voice coming from D's general direction suggested in a boisterous tone.
Spike's brow furrowed. He looked D up and down suspiciously. "What the bloody 'ell was that?"
"Somebody a hell of a lot more interesting than you," the voice retorted with a snort. "More attractive too, you bleached blond little-"
"That will be quite enough," D said firmly before raising his gaze to Buffy and Spike. "I'm afraid he doesn't handle boredom well."
Buffy smiled and shrugged. "No big."
"Wait a bloody minute! What is it? What was talking?" He looked almost afraid of the answer.
"Oh, D has this... this face in his left hand. It talks. It's kind of a slimeball, actually. No offense," she added with a small smile in D's direction.
"None taken. I agree."
"A talking face in 'is hand?" Spike echoed, looking and sounding more than a little disbelieving.
"Yes." D pulled his left hand free of its glove and held it up, palm toward Spike.
"Hello, neighbor!" the symbiot crowed. "D, be a pal and turn me so I can see the girl, huh? Been awhile since I got an eyeful of anyone with a body like that. C'mon..."
"No." Closing his hand into a fist, D lowered it, then pulled the glove back on. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spike, eyes wide and jaw slightly agape. "Believe me now?"
The vampire blinked, then nodded. "Sure thing, mate. Just... never seen anythin' quite like that."
"Neither have I," D replied quietly.
"So Metallica is a no," Buffy finally said, breaking the silence. As the silence grew longer, Buffy moved toward the CD rack, scanning the titles. "How about Sarah McLachlan?" A quick, firm, "No!" came from Spike and the symbiot, and Buffy sighed. "I should have known better..."
Just over two hours later, Buffy was half out of her mind and hoping fervently that Spike and the symbiot would shut up. As it turned out, they were kindred spirits in many ways. Too many ways. "Amazing how loud you are through leather gloves," Buffy finally commented, glaring at Spike though she spoke to the symbiot.
"Feisty! I love feisty! Maybe later you can meet me-"
"Quiet. It's time," D interrupted, standing in a motion so fluent that it almost looked as if he had floated rather than moved. "Are you ready?"
Buffy stood as well, grinning mostly from relief that Spike and the symbiot would have to be quiet, at least for a little while. "Lemme grab my favorite ancient sword, a fashion accessory every girl should have." She returned a moment later with a sword and scabbard strapped around her waist and her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Let's go kick his ass."
"That's the spirit!" Spike followed just behind Buffy. "Now this is gonna be fun!"
"Assuming we don't all die horrible deaths... yeah, it'll be a party," the Slayer responded as they exited her apartment. "And I for one have no intention of giving fang face the satisfaction."
"Okay, could this guy be just a little more conspicuous? I mean, how is someone not going to notice this place?" Buffy asked, staring up at the sprawling, castle-like mansion and ignoring the fact that she had overlooked it herself until D led them there. "It's bigger than the last one!"
"Dracula is not known for his subtlety," D responded.
"You can say that again," Spike snorted.
"Or his taste. This place needs a coat of paint and a decorator stat." The slayer squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "You boys ready to rumble?"
"Ready an' willing, Slayer."
"I am ready."
Buffy pulled her sword free of its sheath. "Then let's give Dracula a big, old fashioned welcome home killing."
The second they entered the castle, Buffy moved with certainty toward its east side. "He's there. I know it. I can feel him," she informed her companions with no small trace of disgust. Neither man dared question her words, and soon they were standing in the doorway of a large room decorated with lavish tapestries and antique furniture. Dozens of candles provided the room's only light. At the opposite end of the room stood a tall, elegant man with long, dark hair. Though his back was turned, there was no question as to his identity.
"I knew you vould come."
Buffy stepped inside the opulently furnished drawing room and nodded. "Yeah, we sorta figured. You don't get a pad like this if you aren't planning on entertaining. But this time I wasn't stupid enough to come alone. Count Dracula, meet my back-up."
The vampire turned slowly and gazed at the group. A smile spread across his face. "Your choice ov allies is... interesting, my dear."
"Not many make it past the stringent application and interview process," Buffy quipped, stepping forward, sword in hand. "Tell you what, you surrender now, I'll make sure I take your head off with the first blow."
"I am afraid that is not part of my plan," Dracula replied impassively, hands clasped behind his back.
Spike pushed past Buffy and strode across the room, strutting as though he had no fear. "Happens to be part of ours, though, mate."
"Ah, Villiam. It is lovely to see you again. You look vell."
Spike let out a short, derisive laugh and tired to look threatening. "Cut the bull, Drac. No time for it. I'm 'ere to kill you."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Spike-"
"Slayer, I can 'andle this."
Buffy glared daggers at the vampire, who didn't even bother to turn around. "If you get yourself staked, I am //so// not getting the Dustbuster out to take you home!"
"Relax, I have everything-" Faster than the eye could see, Dracula's fist flew toward Spike's face, and the bleached-blond fell to the ground with a muffled thump.
"Not the most artful vay of doing things, but it is effective, and somehow fitting in this case," Dracula commented, his dark gaze returning to Buffy, eyes challenging her to approach.
"I don't take real kindly to people punching my friends. Especially since they're in damn short supply lately." Buffy stalked forward, standing beside Spike's unconscious form. She raised her sword and smiled grimly. "Let's see you try that on me."
"I don't believe there vill be any need for your veapon," the vampire said slowly.
Buffy felt instantly the familiar pull inside her mind, felt her arms lowering the sword. She fought back, raising the sword again. "I don't think so. Not again. I won't... I..."
"You vill. Place your sword on the ground. You von't need it."
"I... I'm not falling for it," Buffy ground out even as she lowered the sword to the floor. "Dammit!" She rose again, hands empty.
"Come to me..."
"Leave her alone." The words were quiet, spoken in a soft, normal tone, as if the speaker had no need of yelling.
"Stay back. As you have no qualms killing me, so I have none toward killing you." Dracula's arms reached out and jerked Buffy against him, in the process taking a large step forward. "She is mine," he snarled. "She has been mine since the first time I visited her. Before that. Perhaps since before time... she is my destiny."
"Leave her alone," D repeated, moving closer. "She belongs only to herself."
"A moving sentiment, certainly. A foolish one as vell. Ve all belong to someone." As he spoke, Dracula ran one tapered finger down the veins in Buffy's neck. She obediently leaned her head to the side, eyes falling closed.
D pulled his sword free of the sheath across his back. Deep blue eyes burned from under the wide brim of his hat. "I won't let you hurt her."
Dracula laughed aloud at that, dark eyes dancing. "You von't let me? My dear boy, the decision is not yours. It is mine."
"It is hers. I do not wish to fight you."
"That is vell. Do not fight me. Vhat reason do you have to fight for her life, my son?" the vampire asked, one hand splayed over Buffy's stomach, the other holding her arm fast. "Perhaps you vish to have her for yourself? Hmm? You look disapproving. You cannot tell me the thought has not crossed your mind. She is beautiful, strong, intelligent." Dracula moved as if he would bite the woman in his arms, then raised his gaze to D. "You see her passion, her life. You vant it for yourself. You vant her."
D remained silent, face impassive, body poised for a fight, sword held at the ready.
"Your silence speaks volumes. Enough talk. If you vant her, fight for her. If you do not, leave us be and save yourself the trouble." Dracula leaned in once again, his intent more than obvious.
D raised his sword, moving to one side of the vampire to decrease any chance of injuring Buffy in the attempt, but before he completed the motion, Dracula's head was sliced cleanly off from behind.
Whatever power Dracula held over her gone, Buffy blinked, then shrugged off the corpse. "Eeeew." She looked shaken but uninjured.
"That's what ya get for punchin' me in the face, mate," Spike said smugly, glaring down at the corpse, then smiling at Buffy, her bloodied sword still in his hand. "You alright, luv?"
"I'm... good. Alive. Alive is good." Her brow suddenly furrowed. "He didn't dust. Of course." The slayer rolled her eyes. "Figures. We get to find a place to burn the thing now." Another thought suddenly occurred to her and her slightly wide blue-green eyes fixed on D. "Are you okay? I mean, he was-"
"I am fine."
Buffy nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll take care of this. You don't have to."
Ignoring her words, D said, "There was a marble table in the other room. We can burn the body there."
"Alright, then," Spike said, "you take the feet, mate, and I'll get the shoulders. Slayer, you take the head."
"Yea. Since when are you in charge anyway?" Buffy grumbled, picking up Dracula's head by the hair. Together, they took the count's remains and laid them on the marble table.
Spike pulled a lighter out of his pocket and looked to his companions. "So, who gets the honors?"
D held out his hand and Spike handed him the lighter as if it were an object of power. Silently, D touched the flame to various points on the body until it was burning steadily. He handed the lighter back to Spike. "Thank you."
"Anytime."
"This is... weird," Buffy said as she stood between D and Spike near Spike's crypt. "Should we... say something? A eulogy? I mean, he's... he's Dracula," she finally said with a shake of her head. "Just dumping him in the cemetery doesn't seem quite... right. Maybe we could-" Before she could say more, D purposefully upended the vase containing Dracula's ashes, moving it from side to side until it was empty. Some of the ash was caught and pulled away from the ground, the rest left to feed future generations of trees. "Or you could just dump it."
Spike watched the ceremony with vague interest, then shifted from foot to foot. "Well, looks like we're done, then. It was good meetin' you an' all," he said to D. "Maybe next time you're 'round, we can go 'ave a beer or somethin'. Anyway... Later, Slayer." With a slight wave, the vampire turned and entered the crypt.
"Sorry he's so... well, sorry," Buffy said after Spike was gone. She watched the ashes blowing quietly in the wind for a moment before looking over at D. "I guess... guess you're leaving now, huh?"
"Yes. There's no reason for me to stay."
"Yeah. No reason..." The Slayer shifted uncomfortably, then ran her hands over the back of her crossed arms to warm them. "Getting too chilly to just be standing out here staring. And it's getting a little close to morning to be out playing, right? I mean, you can stay until tomorrow night, right?" There was a note of hope in Buffy's voice that even she might not have been able to fully explain if pressed.
D slowly nodded. "That would... make sense."
"Good," Buffy replied, smiling. "It's good having somebody who, y'know, who gets it," she explained as they walked back toward her apartment. "I mean, Spike does more than most people, I guess, but... I mean, it's not just some job I can quit. Slaying isn't, I mean. It's my birthright or fate or whatever. I can't get away from it. It's something I have to do." She stopped and blushed slightly. "Is it like that for you? Sort of? Atoning for... for who your dad is... was?"
Looking faintly surprised, D replied, "Yes. Yes, that is what it's like. I don't think... I don't think I've ever spoken to anyone who knew."
"I'm insightful that way." She paused to unlock the door to her apartment, then walked inside, throwing herself down on the couch and patting the cushion to her left. "Last chance for a slayer-to-hunter heart-to-heart. I know you don't talk much, but... maybe it would be... fun?"
After a moment of hesitation, D sat down beside her, looking uncomfortable, hands folded in his lap. "I... don't talk... much."
"Try ever," the symbiot's distinctly muffled voice complained from his lap. "I've known mute's who were more verbal!"
Buffy glared at D's hand. "Nobody invited you to be part of the conversation. Hush!" she ordered firmly. "I'm talking with D." Looking back up at the vampire hunter, she grinned a little. "That must be fun to live with."
"You have no idea." He paused for a moment. "Are feeling alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Not a scratch."
"I meant... It couldn't have been easy to be under his control again."
"Oh. That." Buffy blinked and looked away, hands twisting together absently. "It was... not fun. I don't like not being the person who decides what I do. It scares me. I've lost it before without his help. I just can't help but think what could happen... I have a lot of power. Strength, at least. Somebody could get hurt. Because of me." Her voice wavered slightly. "They have before. My... my Watcher, the one who trained me... he... a bunch of vamps killed him."
Tears glistened in Buffy's eyes and finally spilled down her cheeks. "I wasn't there. All my goddamn Slayer strength did me a Hell of a lot of good. He died and... and I couldn't stop it. There wasn't anything that..." Sobs shook her shoulders until an arm wound around them. Buffy felt shocked to realize that D was comforting her. Unable to hold back her grieving any longer, she relaxed against him, burying her face in his chest and crying with abandon.
Finally the tears stopped and Buffy's shoulders were still. "Thanks," she whispered without shifting her position. "I needed that. Guess I've needed it for awhile."
"I'm glad it helped."
"It did. A lot." She shifted slightly, moving so that her head was lying on his shoulder in a familiar, comfortable gesture much like the one she has used with Spike earlier. "So, how about you? Your turn for painful confessions," she said with a sniffle and a quiet laugh.
Buffy was again surprised when D laughed softly. "Even if we spent the rest of tonight and all tomorrow talking, I think we would run out of time for my painful confessions." He sighed and seemed to relax slightly against the cushions of the couch. D removed his hat and set it down on the table in front of them. "Besides, I'd rather listen to you talk," he added in a tone so gentle that could barely be categorized as a whisper.
"In that case, you can get the full version of my life story, all painful, shocking secrets and high flying adventures included." Settling in a bit and pulling her legs up onto the couch, Buffy began, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, intelligent-did I mention beautiful?-cheerleader named Buffy Summers..."
The slayer awoke the next morning curled up on the couch with her head resting on D's lap. She stirred, then sat up and stretched, smiling over at D, who was already awake. "You make a great pillow," Buffy informed him with a grin, rising reluctantly from the couch. "As a reward, I'm going to go take care of my morning breath now, maybe even shower too." With that, she jogged into the bathroom and shut the door.
"Well that was a fun evening," the symbiot stated with a chuckle. "I can't remember the last time I got that close to a pretty girl. You really should pick up chicks more often, D."
"We were talking."
"Oh, of course! Silly me... It isn't as if she spent the night using your lap as a pillow... Oh, wait, yes she did! You can't honestly expect me to believe you're this dense. I know you better than that. You're falling in love with her. For heaven's sake, you told her you wanted to listen to her talk. Coming from anyone else, that would have been spotted as a cheesy pick-up line a mile away!"
"It wasn't a-"
"Of course not. The great, lone hunter would never fall victim to something as silly as a crush. You don't have emotions or needs. You don't need them. Isn't that right?"
D was silent, but he squeezed his left hand into a fist. "Quiet."
Buffy chose that moment to re-enter the room, smelling of vanilla body wash and coconut shampoo. She wore a silky-looking black robe. "Clean. Now I'm gonna work on dressed. Then maybe I'll make us some food."
As soon as she disappeared into her bedroom, the symbiot continued, "You should go in there after her. I don't think she'd object. Or you can just wait out here. She's going to ask you to stay longer. Then she's going to make a move. You know hunting, but I know women. She likes you," he added in a sing-song voice.
"I can't get close to people like that. I could... She could get hurt."
"Not if you keep yourself in check. You try so hard to be human. What's more human than love?"
Before D could formulate a reply, Buffy returned, smiling and wearing a pair of sweat pants and a white t-shirt that was so threadbare it was almost transparent. "Want a sandwich? I make a mean grilled cheese."
"Thank you." D's eyes strayed to the window, covered with black curtains that were shut tight against the light of day. "I should leave when the sun goes down."
The pleasant clatter of food preparation in the kitchen faltered for a moment. "Oh. I was thinking maybe... maybe you can leave tomorrow night? I'd love to maybe talk some more... if you want to."
"I... I could stay another night."
"Good! We're just getting to know each other... and I'm horrible about sending Christmas cards, so..." Buffy shrugged, "I just want to spend as much time together as we can now, y'know? We're not in low risk jobs." There was no need to say the obvious: Even if they agreed to meet again, it was entirely likely that one or both of them would be dead before it could happen. Emerging from the kitchen with two grilled cheeses and barbeque chips, the slayer passed a plate to D, then sat down on the couch beside him. "Not gourmet cuisine, but I can make it without burning the house down or making people gag."
They ate in silence which was broken only once by the symbiot again requesting they play Metallica and Buffy and D vetoing the request with a simultaneous, "No," followed shortly by, "Quiet!" The last bit of daylight also passed with a relatively small amount of talking, but it was pleasant nonetheless.
Once the sun went down, Buffy patrolled, joined by D and, once they reached the cemetery, by Spike, who returned to his crypt as soon as he realized the two were more interested in quiet discussion than fighting. "Sod this! You two 'ave fun talking. I'm gonna go find something to kill."
"You just have fun with that," Buffy replied, patting Spike's arm. "The grown-ups are talking."
"Aw, bloody 'ell, Slayer..." Spike began before rolling his eyes in disgust and walking away.
Buffy turned to D and half-smiled. "I'm gonna owe him a pint of blood and a six pack for that later, plus some cigarettes too if I want him to speak to me again. Worth it, though. How about we go back to my place, huh?" She grinned at the mildly scandalized look on his face. "Don't worry-you're just cute when you're shocked." Hooking her arm through D's, Buffy started walking back toward her apartment. "You hungry?"
"No, thank you."
"Me neither." Buffy threw her keys down on the coffee table and crossed to the CD player, putting in a worn-looking album and then sitting down on the couch. "Garbage-the name of the band, that is. It's old, but good. My favorite's this first one." She hummed along with the tune, finally singing outright in a clear, incongruously innocent voice, "You come on like a drug, I just can't get enough. I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more. And there's so much at stake..." Her voice trailed off when she remembered that D was there. "Oh, God... Sorry. I shouldn't sing. Ever. Especially not around people who aren't deaf. Sorry."
"You have a lovely voice."
"Aw, I bet you say that to all the slayers." Buffy smiled and settled back against the couch cushions. "So you're really leaving, huh?"
"I need to."
"Yeah... kinda like I need to stay. Home sweet Hellmouth." She sighed and her gaze focused on the shadows in the corner of the room. Shaking off whatever thoughts had pulled her away, Buffy reached her hand out and gently ran her thumb over D's cheek. Before he could protest, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, at first with feather-light softness, then more firmly, her kisses almost fierce in their passion. In one fluid motion, she slid her leg over his and was straddling his lap.
Despite himself, D threaded the fingers of one hand into her thick blond hair, the other sliding across the small of her back. He could still smell the sweet scent of the vanilla bodywash on her skin, and beneath that... His breath caught. Beneath that, there was the intoxicating smell of her blood, the almost audible rhythm of it pumping through her veins. Knowing that even a second's hesitation could prove fatal for Buffy, D moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her back, eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed together.
Buffy knew the look well. "D... It's okay." Her fingers skated across his face. "You don't have to be embarrassed. You won't hurt me." One hand moved her hair away from her slender neck. "Go ahead."
D's eyes opened, glowing with an eerie blue light. He shook his head mutely and pushed her off of his lap, onto the other side of the couch, then rose and walked quickly to the other side of the room, a shaking hand reaching up to cover his eyes. Finally he turned back to Buffy, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry. I... can't. I should go."
"No!" Buffy rose as well, walking over to stand beside him. "I'm not going to let you run out just because of this. It's not a big-"
"It is."
"To you." Buffy leaned her neck to the side, she pointed to one scar, "Angel," then another, "Dracula." She let her hair fall back across the scars. "I've been there and done that and lived to tell the tale." She reached her hand toward D's face. "I trust you."
He caught her hand and moved it down to her side. "I don't. I need to go."
"How about... how about we get some sleep and... and maybe talk tomorrow?" Impossibly large eyes pleaded along with her voice, "Please?" D nodded slowly and Buffy smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night. Morning. Whatever." She began walking toward the bedroom, cast one final bittersweet smile back toward D. "Tomorrow." After receiving a nod of reply, she continued on.
"You aren't staying, are you?"
D pulled the glove from his left hand. "No."
"But she said that-"
"I know. She trusts me. Which is why I can't."
"D, you'll never learn to control it if you don't-"
"I won't hurt her."
"Leaving will hurt her."
Unable to find a suitable reply, D pulled his glove back on.
Buffy smiled as she stretched the next morning. //Moved too fast last night, but you can do better.// She was the first to admit that when it came to guys, her track record was, at best, patchy. //This will be different. I don't know how, but... we'll figure it out.// "Morning," she said pleasantly, walking into the living room after going through the usual morning grooming routine. "How'd you..." The living room was empty.
Something on the table blowing in the current from the air conditioner caught Buffy's eye as she moved further into the room. //Oh, God...// The note was written in an elegantly slanted hand that seemed particularly odd given that the ink, which came from the pen Buffy used for writing grocery lists, was a vibrant pink. She read the note aloud, eyes misting over with tears. "I had to leave. I'm sorry. I know you understand."