Days in the Sun





November 29th, 2016 – Teenagers (1)

“But you said I could go when I was sixteen!”

Crossing his arms, Spike observed his sulky eldest. If she really thought she was going anywhere, let alone the Bronze, dressed like that, she was gravely mistaken. As it was, a sixteen-year-old girl had no business at night at a club. And no sixteen-year-old girl living under his roof was going anywhere showing that much skin.

“I never said any such thing,” he pointed out calmly. “I said fifteen was too young for you to go there, and sixteen is still too young.”

Blue eyes widened in indignation as she crossed her arms, mirroring his posture and matching his determination.

“Everyone from my school goes there. Everyone except me! It’s just unfair! Even mom was going when she was my age!”

“That’s not the argument that will convince me,” Spike grumbled, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.”

His senses tingled and he turned to see Buffy enter Lisa’s room. She looked rather amused, and he had the distinct feeling that she would not be siding with him on this issue.

“What does that mean, ‘quite the contrary’?” she asked, smiling, as she came to sit on the bed.

Her position, at equal distance from her husband and daughter, was just one more clue, and Spike ground his teeth at the light of hope in Lisa’s eyes. She had noticed, too.

“That means that I was around when you were sixteen,” he simply said as he tilted his head slightly to one side.

He didn’t complete the thought, but by the faint blush in her cheeks, he didn’t have to, she knew very well what he was hinting out. It was the main reason, but not the only one. What he wasn’t saying either was that he had been there even before she turned sixteen, had spent hours watching her dance with her friends, and he very much didn’t want anyone to watch Lisa like that.

Buffy was still smiling, but the grin seemed forced now, and Spike winced internally at the look in her eyes, clear indication that he had made a mistake. She rose from the bed and extended her hand toward him.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked with a calm voice that belied the fire in her eyes.

Taking her hand, he followed her out and down the hall to their room. She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it.

“That was uncalled for,” she said coldly.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I’ve made mistakes,” she interrupted him. “And so have you. It doesn’t mean our children will repeat them. And it doesn’t mean we have to punish them for what we did.”

Sighing, he turned away from accusing eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not punishing her,” he said after a few seconds, looking back at Buffy again. “I’m just trying to protect her. She’s still a baby. I don’t want her to get hurt like…”

Once more, he was talking too much, and he managed to stop himself. Not in time, however, because the glint in his Slayer’s eyes had changed, softened a little. She stepped toward him and wove her arms around his neck, her eyes never leaving his.

“Lisa is not a baby,” she said softly. “And we can’t protect her from everything. She’ll have to be out, eventually. And yes, she might get hurt, but that’s part of growing up.”

Burying his face against Buffy’s neck as he held her tight, Spike stifled the comment that he didn’t want Lisa, or William, or Jay to grow up. Accepting that they were growing up was also accepting the fact that they would one day leave, not only his house but also his life, and he would be alone again with nothing but memories.

“If you don’t give her some freedom,” Buffy continued quietly as she stroked his hair, “she’ll take it herself, and she’ll take more than she can safely...”

There was a timid knock on the door, followed by Lisa’s uncertain voice.

“Can I come in?”

Buffy’s arms let go of him as she turned to face the door and allow Lisa in, but Spike didn’t free her, keeping his arms around her waist in a loose embrace. The teen entered, a little hesitant, the too revealing top he had found so objectionable now replaced by a blouse, the also questionable in his eyes knee-length skirt traded for pants.

“I don’t really want to go,” she mumbled, her eyes on the floor. “Not if it means that you two will fight about it. So forget about it, OK?”

She turned again as if to leave, and Spike had to shake himself to recover his voice. Not a baby, indeed.

“Luv?” he called out before she had walked away. “Does it look to you like we’re fighting?”

She looked at them, raised an eyebrow, gave a small shrug, but said nothing.

“You can go,” the vampire managed to say without growling. “But you go wearing what you have on now. And you are home by ten thirty.”

“Eleven,” Buffy corrected, shooting a grin at him over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes at her, but acquiesced. “Eleven.”

There were a lot of people in the Bronze, a decent band playing, and Lisa was having the time of her life. Or so it seemed to the vampire on the balcony.

He had left the house ten minutes after her, under the half reprobating, half amused gaze of Buffy. By instinct, he had put on black jeans and t-shirt, as well as his duster. Easier to hide in the shadows like this, he tried to rationalize the change. And also, Lisa and the few of her friends who knew him were not used to seeing him dressed like this, so if by chance they saw him they might not recognize him.

He had been there a good half hour, already. But it somehow felt like he had spent his unlife on this balcony. Being in the crowd, fitting in because he didn’t seem that much older than some of the oldest kids down there, but at the same time apart, because of the look, maybe, or because of the waves he was sending, that he wasn’t to be messed with. That was just the story of his life, it seemed. Almost in the human world, but always on the sidelines. Watching the humans on the dance floor without being there himself. Watching one human.

He watched this one with very different eyes than he had her mother, but one thing was the same, he still didn’t like when boys were dancing too close to her. Not at all. But as he kept watching, refraining from growling every time her moves brought her too close to someone, Spike realized something. Like Buffy, Lisa needed no protection. She could take care of herself very well. And his presence here could bring nothing but embarrassment and resentment if she noticed him.

With a sigh, he slid back in the shadows. For so long, time had meant nothing to him. But now, as he realized his children were growing up, he felt like the years were flying away, too fast for him to grasp at them. And he suddenly felt old, older than he had ever felt, older than he even really was.

The feeling lasted until he was back home. And when he arrived there, Buffy reminded him very effectively what it was like to feel like he was nineteen again.