Days in the Sun
October 31st, 2016 – Halloween
Buffy had gone out trick or treating with her daughter, Joyce Anne, she dressed in a long Victorian-style gown, the eleven-year-old as Little Red Riding Hood. They were with a few of Jay’s friends and a couple of mothers that Buffy knew, going around the neighborhood until the not so little ones got tired. The sun had set already, but Spike wasn’t worried. Halloween was traditionally the one night when things didn’t go bump in the night, and the very few vampires that were still in Sunnyhell knew better than to break custom and get the Slayer on their back. He had no doubt that she had a stake with her anyway, as old habits died hard.
The Big Bad himself was in his lair, as any self-respecting vampire should be on that particular night. Except for a few minor details. Self-respecting vampires’ lairs weren’t cozy two story houses filled with three dozens kids between the ages of 14 and 16. Or to be more precise, three dozens teenagers, all on a sugar high, bouncing around to what passed for music in these uncivilized times while eating and drinking even more sugar. Spike was only happy about one thing – they would all be gone before midnight. All save his own, of course.
Lisa and Will had requested that he dress up since he had announced his intention to ‘patrol’ during the party to make sure that the unruly guests stayed clear of the designated restricted areas, which were his office, the basement and the second floor. His other goal, which he had been careful not to voice, was to ensure that the house remained making-out free. So far, he was either being very successful, or the oldest of the little demons were being too sneaky for him.
He was sauntering around, dressed in the black uniform – boots, jeans, t-shirt, shirt – that his Slayer had convinced him long ago to reserve for patrols. And since they didn’t patrol anymore, his black wardrobe wasn’t getting much use these days. What he had never worn until that night was the long black cape with crimson lining. Both Buffy and Lisa had insisted that he wear it, and there was little he could do against their combined forces. The last touch to his costume was simply his game mask. He didn’t let his demon face take the forefront very often anymore and it felt comfortable for once not to worry about that. More than one kid had looked at him in almost awe and asked who had done his make-up. He always chuckled at the question, making sure to flash a fang as he answered that he had done it himself.
Walking out of the kitchen, he bumped into his beautiful princess. The smile she had been displaying so far was gone, replaced by something very close to a scowl. He asked her what was wrong, ready to break the arms of the boy he suspected might have hurt her delicate heart.
“The store clerk promised me it was one of a kind,” she said dejectedly, tugging slightly at the skirt of her floor length dress for emphasis. “But Jenny Wyler has exactly the same gown in green instead of blue.”
“If it’s not the same color, then it’s not exactly the same”, he tried to point out.
Lisa rolled her eyes at him, giving him a look that he had learned to recognize a long while before and that meant something like “how could you understand anyway, not only are you a man, but you’re an incredibly old man, to boot”. He was about to say that it wasn’t the end of the world if two ladies wore similar dresses for a few hours, but he managed to refrain himself from doing so. For one thing, he didn’t quite fancy receiving that irritating look again. For another, it was never a good idea to tempt fate in Sunnyhell, even if the Hellmouth was permanently closed.
Let’s see, what would Buffy say?
“Do you have another costume?” he suggested. “Maybe the one from last year.”
“It’s too short”, she lamented. “There’s just nothing…”
Her eyes widened suddenly as she looked at him and started grinning.
“Everybody thinks your make-up is great,” she commented softly.
He understood where she was going with that idea, but wasn’t too sure what to think about it.
“Wouldn’t it be just as bad to wear the same costume as your father?” he inquired carefully.
“As far as I can tell, you’re neither a guest nor a girl”, she quipped. “Plus, I don’t have to get the whole black on black look. So… can I?”
Since they had been old enough to understand, the Summers children had been forbidden to shift to their game masks, for their own safety. But tonight was Halloween, and if it was safe for Spike then it had to be for her too.
“Alright,” he conceded. “But once you have your ‘make-up’ on, no changing your mind or costume until everybody’s gone.”
She flashed him a bright smile and darted up the steps. Ten minutes later, she was coming back down, wearing her mother’s red leather pants, a blood red silk shirt that belonged to Spike, and her game mask, accentuated by bright red lipstick he was pretty sure was Buffy’s.
“You could have asked first,” he said with a halfhearted growl, suddenly not so sure that it was such a good idea. “And will you finish buttoning that shirt or do I have to do it for you?”
Pouting a little, she fastened one more button, which left a more satisfying expanse of skin exposed – that being practically none.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen Lisa like this, but it was still very strange. It reminded him of the time she had asked him if she was a demon. She wasn’t, he was convinced of that, but his own demon felt weirdly proud at seeing her in her vamp visage. She would have made a superb vampire, that was another thing he was convinced of, though he doubted she would appreciate the comment if he ever voiced it. As he doubted Buffy would. Buffy, who was just now coming in through the front door. Buffy, whose giggle died as her eyes fell on her husband and daughter. Buffy, who was certainly going to stake him for allowing this.
“No honey, I don’t think Will and Lisa will steal your candy if you don’t hide it. But your dad might!”
Laughing softly, mother and daughter walked into their home. Joyce Anne rushed up the steps, giggling as she ran by her father and announced to him that he couldn’t have her candy. Buffy’s laugh died as she saw the face of her oldest child. Spike had been in vampire mode when she left, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him bumpy and fangy. But Lisa… Sometimes, Buffy forgot that the kids could do that. It was almost eerie to see her in game mask.
She noticed the kid’s worried look, and Spike’s pleading one. His message, if she wasn’t mistaken, was ‘don’t get upset, it’s just a costume’. He was right. It was just for Halloween, there was no risk for Lisa to display this visage right now. But there was something else she had to explain.
“When exactly did you ask to borrow my pants?” she asked, half scolding, half teasing.
“But mom, you were gone! I promise I would have asked first if you had been here.”
Buffy let out a small sigh and raised her eyes to the ceiling.
“Fine”, she relented. “Just this once. There’s something missing though.”
Stepping closer to the two of them, she untied the laces that held Spike’s cape closed at his neck and pulled it off him.
“Hey, that’s mine”, he mock-protested with a pout.
“You didn’t even want to wear it”, she reminded him with a shrug.
Turning the cape over so that the red lining was now the outside, she draped it over Lisa’s shoulders. It was a bit on the long side, but it didn’t quite touch the floor. Lisa twirled, smiling happily, before planting a quick kiss on both of her parents’ cheeks and scurrying away, back to her friends.
“Oh Lisa,” Buffy called before she disappeared.
The teenager turned back to her, inhuman eyebrow raised questioningly.
“You’re beautiful, love.”
Lisa smiled even more brightly and was gone. Spike caught Buffy’s waist and pulled her close to him, nuzzling her neck lovingly.
“And you, luv, are wonderful”, he purred.