Jealousies
Night was falling, and Buffy was upstairs, changing to a more
slaying-friendly attire. Spike had long ago given up on commenting
that, a few years back, she never felt the need to go on patrol with a
special kind of clothes. Besides, he liked her in black and leather, so
why would he complain?
He was waiting for her in the kitchen, where Faith and her kid also
happened to be. Apparently, it was dinnertime for the baby, and he had
let himself be caught by the show that feeding a child was. A bit
messy, but it looked like fun.
“Ever wished you had one yourself?” Faith asked, throwing a questioning look at him.
Spike was a bit startled by the unexpected question, because it was the
ex-Slayer’s first attempt at conversation. She hadn’t been talking much
since she had arrived. She was apparently still pissed off by the turn
of events, and had been demonstrating her resentment through mostly
silence and dark looks. Spike didn’t mind that much, she wasn’t there
for them to entertain her with witty conversations, and he had enough
to worry about without adding her state of mind to the lot. He could
answer a simple question, though.
“Sometimes,” he replied truthfully. “It was an option, for a little while, and sometimes I wonder what it would have been like.”
“Do you regret it? Being all noble and trading your life for that of a Slayer?”
For a short second, he stared at her. And then he couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“I wasn’t being noble,” he stated when he finally could control his
hilarity. “’Was just thinking of dear old Spikey. I like myself better
with fangs.”
And it was the truth, if only part of it. She gave him a weird glance at that, before asking, very coolly:
“What about Buffy? You like her better vampy too?”
A cold shiver ran down Spike’s back. Probably without knowing, the
brunette had touched to a very delicate problem. He loved Buffy as much
as a vampire as he had loved her human, but she had felt it necessary
to be a vampire again with him. For him. Had she not made that choice,
they wouldn’t have gone through the nightmare of her losing her soul.
And wouldn’t be in such a mess right now. And yet, he reminded himself,
it had been just that. Her choice.
“It was her decision,” he said soberly. “I didn’t make it for her,
didn’t ask her to do it. Just like no one forced you to give up being a
Slayer.”
She had a sad laugh and shook her head. He couldn’t see her eyes as she
was looking at the kid again, but he heard repressed tears in her voice.
“Yeah, no one forced me. And it worked so well, didn’t it? I’m back to
square one, except now I need to be protected by a couple of vamps
instead of staking vamps myself, and my child is doomed to go through
this hell too.”
“But you did get out of the game,” he insisted. “Nothing says she won’t
be able to escape. Whatever they plan for us, we’re still in control.”
She was frowning thoughtfully as she looked once more at him, and he
was about to ask her what she was thinking, but Buffy called from the
entrance that she was ready, and he just joined her after a quick nod
at Faith.
A quick patrol had brought them close to the mansion, and Spike
suggested stopping there to see if everything was alright. Buffy didn’t
feel like seeing the innocent girls who didn’t know yet what fate had
in store for them, but she didn’t feel like arguing about it either.
There was too much arguing in her head already, she really didn’t need
to add to it.
Their visit took an unexpected turn, however. As they were about a
hundred yards from the building, they were stopped by an invisible
barrier, very much like the one preventing uninvited vampires of
entering a human’s home. Except that this barrier made a loud sound as
they touched it, like a warning bell. Within seconds, a dozen young
girls and older people who were obviously their Watchers had rushed
out, all of them armed in some way. Giles and Andrea were there too,
but before either could say a word to their troops, one of the oldest
of the girls stepped forward, the stake in her hand now lowered. She
had a small smile as she addressed the two vamps.
“Looks like Willow didn’t put any exceptions on her charm. At least we know…”
Because of the darkness, and because she had changed a lot since the
last time she had seen her, Buffy didn’t recognize the girl until she
spoke, her accent unmistakable. And immediately, some of the jealousy
she had felt the night before was back. When Manon had been in
Sunnydale before, she was just a kid, and so she hadn’t felt threatened
when the girl admitted her feelings for Spike. It was just a schoolgirl
crush. But now, she was a woman.
Before Buffy could stifle the unreasonable feeling, however, another
girl had stepped forward. Not smiling at all, this one. Not lowering
her stake either.
“You can not talk to the enemy!” she interrupted Manon with a glare. “They are…”
“They are Buffy and Spike, and they are here to help protect all of
you,” Giles cut in, approaching to join them while Andrea was
redirecting everyone else inside. “Buffy, Spike, this is Felicia. The
new Slayer.”
There was a contained sigh in his last words, and Buffy had the
distinct impression that the new girl was already getting on Giles’
nerves. Or maybe it had to do with living with all these young women.
Either way, he looked more tired than he had earlier.
“Willow’s and Tara’s work,” he said, gesturing at the air between them.
“It works just about the same as the basic protection on a house.
Except that it also prevents anyone inside from getting out. Only
Willow, Tara, Andrea and myself can invite someone across the barrier,
in or out.”
“Nifty,” Spike said with a slight grin in Manon’s direction. “We don’t want the kiddies to go walking off in the night, do we?”
For some reason, Manon had a small laugh at that, and Buffy frowned,
wondering what was going on there. Before she could ask, however,
Felicia was jumping back in the conversation.
“I am not a kid,” she proclaimed, chin high and arms crossed over her chest. “I am the Chosen One.”
“And there she goes again,” Manon muttered under her breath.
“I suppose you two are on patrol?” Giles changed the subject swiftly. “Anything of interest?”
“Nothing but a couple of ordinary vamps,” Buffy replied. “It’s almost too quiet. Anything new on your side?”
“Not really,” he said with a frown at the two girls at his side.
“Except that I now have a theory about why there never was more than
one Slayer at one given time before.”
There was tension, there, almost palpable. And Buffy didn’t want to
know about it. She didn’t want to know Felicia or any of the others.
Some of them might die soon, and she didn’t want to know them if they
did.
“We’ll get back to work, then,” she said calmly. “We’ll report to you if we hear anything.”
“Can I come with you?”
Manon’s voice was pleading, and her gaze moved quickly between Giles, Spike and Buffy, before stopping on the latter.
“I’m getting crazy in there. I need some fresh air.”
More glances were exchanged. Spike shrugged, Buffy nodded, and Giles finally sighed.
“Seeing how you have the most training,” he commented, “I guess you’ll
be safe on patrol. If you promise not to go out by yourself?”
“Promised,” she assured him quickly with a large grin.
“Fine. You may get out, Manon.”
She beamed as she crossed the now lifted invisible barrier. Felicia, on the other hand, didn’t seem very happy.
“I want to go too,” she declared. “It is my duty to fight…”
“No.”
Buffy spoke without thinking, purely reacting to the word duty. The girl had sounded too much like Min, when she said that.
“I would agree with Buffy on the matter,” Giles said tiredly. “You and
Manon proved you work much better when you’re not together.”
The Slayer – the youngest and newest one – glared at her elders before
turning her heels and stomping back to the mansion. Buffy watched her
go, wondering for a second what her story was – before reminding
herself that she really didn’t want to know.
At first, Manon had been happy to be out of the mansion. Too many
people, in there. Or rather, one too many. She didn’t like Felicia,
Felicia didn’t like her, and she doubted that would ever change. She
didn’t care, though. She would soon be going back to France, or so she
hoped, and Felicia would either stay there or go back to wherever she
was from, and they never would have to see each other again. Or, once
again, so she hoped.
The patrol, however, quickly became very dull. The Buffy she remembered
was a warm, caring person, almost a big sister to her. This Buffy was
very defensive, almost cold, and demanding in an imperious voice that
they all be quiet so that they could slay something, cutting short very
effectively Manon’s answer to Spike asking what life was like at the
mansion.
When she finally understood what the problem was, she could have kicked
herself for not realizing sooner. It was weird, though. Buffy had never
been jealous before, when Manon was actually attracted to Spike. Why
was she jealous now that these feelings were gone? And what was the
best way to tell to someone that you were not in love with their spouse
anymore? She remembered something, from her university civilization
classes, about weddings and engagements in the United States… So she
did something she wouldn’t have thought of otherwise, and stuck her
left hand right in front of Buffy’s face.
“Hey, did I show you my ring? I got engaged last spring.”
The maneuver proved extremely effective. Buffy made appropriate
congratulation comments, and was afterwards much friendlier. There was
laughter in Spike’s eyes, though, and Manon guessed he knew exactly
what had been going on. She scowled at him for a while. He could simply
have told Buffy she had nothing to be jealous about, that would have
been much simpler.
Still distracted by Buffy’s attitude, and still annoyed by Spike’s, she
didn’t notice the demon until it was right in front of her. Towering a
good half-meter above her. She jumped back with a gasp, and narrowly
avoided the pointy, skewer-like appendage that was shoved toward her
middle. In a brief moment of respite, she took in the scene in front of
her. She counted at least nine other demons in addition to the one who
had attacked her, all of different species, all apparently well armed.
Spike and Buffy were already fighting, with nothing but stakes. She
joined the dance.
She managed to defeat her first opponent by breaking off the
skewer-thing and pushing it as well as her stake through its chest, but
not without getting a few bruises herself. Next, it was two demons
coming at her at once, and she had no weapon left but her hands. A
quick look at the two vamps showed that they had gotten rid of three
demons between the two of them, and were also down to hand-to-hand
fighting.
This didn’t look good. Not at all.
It started looking even worse when tingles down her spine warned her that vampires were approaching.
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The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.