It'd started out as rumors, mostly. But Angel didn't listen to rumors. Spike had the habit of disappearing every now and then, especially if he was holed up somewhere with a new lady or gentleman friend, and so the weeks of absence didn't trouble him in the least.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Spike hadn't been completely absent, either, which is what had gotten the rumors started. He'd shown his face at the Pod just enough to let it be known he was there, but otherwise, he didn't seem to spend any time in his condo. Problem was, his appearances--and disappearances--seemed to mysteriously coincide with Beth's training sessions, study marathons, and library trips.
It was a coincidence, Angel told himself, and ignored the rumors that kept flying about. He pretended not to notice if they happened to be sparring with each other more than anyone else, and if anyone asked him about Beth, he just shrugged and told them that she didn't exactly check in and out with him. He'd definitely ignored the fact that he'd been replaced as Beth's study-buddy of choice, and even though she went out of her way to hang with Angel as well, made sure she always had smiles and hugs for him, he knew.
He could smell Spike all over her. It'd been subtle at first; cigarette smoke and booze lingered on her skin, but he knew that'd come from just spending time together. What he smelled on her now he couldn't really describe, he just knew it. It was the scent of his bloodline, of his blood, with a faint twist of Drusilla's blood as well as something specific to Spike. And he could smell Spike's soul, like a bright sunny accent or a zest of lemon in a dark chocolate swirl.
Still, he didn't listen to the rumors.
He didn't listen to the rumor that Spike was spending way more time at the Huntley Arms than he was at the Pod.
He didn't listen to the rumor that one of the Slayers had seen Beth and Spike sitting together on Beth's conference table, sharing a kiss over a book.
He didn't listen to the rumor that Beth'd worn Spike's red shirt to the training mats one day, either.
It'd been three months since he and Beth had called it quits, and he was getting really tired of the jealousy thing. It could go away any day now.
-----
"Come on, Bethie, show me what you go! You're a bloody Slayer, stop lettin' me wipe the floor with you!" he shouted, rocking on his bare feet. Spike was barefoot and bare-chested, having the time of his life.
Beth was barefoot too, sports bra soaked with sweat. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail much to Spike's dismay, and her hands and wrists were taped up. "I'm not lettin' you do a damn thing," she panted. "You're just too fast."
"Hell I am. I've seen what a Slayer can do, and a Slayer's just as fast as a vampire is. Has to be, or they'd never be able t'do their bloody job. Now c'mon. Stop twittering about and hit me. You've done it before, nothing's changed except I'm not takin' it easy on you."
Beth tossed her ponytail back, and quickly wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. "Hand to hand's not my thing; I prefer a good brawl to this dancing around."
Smirking, Spike held up his fists. "Well c'mon then, ducks. Bring it on however you want."
Beth circled Spike warily for a moment, and he turned as she did, always making sure he was facing her. She finally gave in and charged, feinting left and then driving in right, her shoulder connecting with Spike's arm. She'd aimed for his chest, but he'd intercepted the feint at the last moment. "Good!" he said. "You almost got me that time. Don't pull up s'short, though. Make sure you see 'im move before you switch," he said as he bounced on his heels. "Try it again, love."
She scowled. "It's no fun if you know it's coming," she pointed out, but circled him again. To her surprise, he swung at her, and she blocked it with her forearm as she dropped for a leg sweep.
Spike hit the mat with a thump, laughing as he went down. "Who in the bloody hell taught you to counter a punch to the face with a soddin' leg sweep?" he demanded, flipping himself to his feet.
Her scowl deepened. "Angel. Said it was the best way to get the fight over fast. Flip the vamp on his back and be ready with the stake."
Spike snorted. "Figures. Right, okay, well, if you're fighting a geriatric vampire or one who's just turned and doesn't know his bum from a hole in the ground, then yeah that might work. But if you're ever gonna fight a really robust, threating, normal vampire? Then he's gonna do what I just did; get back up and beat the crap out of you."
Beth raised her middle finger at him. "It's worked for me so far."
"Well, now we're gonna teach you how to fight like a real woman, and not a magnificent pouf."
"Fight like a real woman? That I already know." Beth grinned, circling Spike and bouncing lightly on her toes.
"Oh, this I gotta see," Spike answered with a laugh. He didn't wait for Beth to make the first move; he went after her neck, fangs bared.
Beth spun in the opposite direction of Spike's lunge. Her hand lashed out, smashing against his nose and shoving up. That wrenched the cartilage painfully, and Spike yelped. In that instant Spike grabbed his nose, Beth's foot connected with his testicles.
Spike went down, curling a little around his balls, and Beth landed hard on top of him with a knee in his chest. Her hand slapped down over his heart, and she smirked at him. "I win."
"Bloody hell, I know Angel didn't teach you that little trick," he gasped, eyes watering. Beth held out her hand to pull him up, and once Spike was back on his feet, he glared. "Where'd you learn that?"
"Sensei Aya. She taught a self-defense class that I took when I was fifteen. The kick to the nuts I learned from Tabitha." Lifting her right hand to her mouth, she tore at the tape then used her left hand to unravel it once it was loose. "Go put some ice on your balls while I shower."
Spike's arm snagged Beth and reeled her in against him. "You gonna owe me a big apology, Slayer," he growled in her ear.
Beth just smirked. "Maybe I'll kiss it and make it all better."
"Damn right you will," he agreed. "Be a fit'n proper punishment f'you if the wrinklies don't work right," he threatened. "No Spike for you tonight."
Beth wrinkled her nose, smiling. "Liar. You'll be over it by the time I get out of the shower."
"Prob'ly, but it's more fun t'make you beg." Spike kissed her, letting her lower lip slide out between his teeth. "Y'smell good, just like this."
"I smell like an unwashed yak," Beth protested.
Spike shook his head, angling his kisses down her throat. "Y'smell hot, and sweatin' like you jus' had the best shag of your life, an' your heart's poundin' like a freight train." He kissed over her pulse again, feeling it beat against his lips. "Blood's runnin' like a river, an' it smells so good, all of it."
Beth groaned. "You better stop that, or I'm gonna do something that all these other girls shouldn't walk in on," she whined softly, not really wanting Spike to stop.
"So? They could all use a good shag if y'ask me, an' I'm not shamed to let them see one," he pointed out, fingers reaching up to take Beth's hair out of the ponytail then grab a fistful of it. He used his grip to shift her head to lean the other direction, and he nipped his way down just as he had on the other side.
The rough fist in Beth's hair made her groan again, and she squirmed against Spike. "At the moment, I can't say as I care either."
Spike's hand slipped under Beth's sport bra, firmly squeezing her breast before tweaking the nipple with his nails. He made her moan a third time, and he bit sharply on her earlobe, sucking the sting away. "Like it a bit rough, don't you?" Of course he knew the answer to that, but he teased her anyway, making her answer as his fist stayed in her hair, pulling tightly.
"Yes," she whimpered, and stumbled just a little bit when Spike released her. A half a second later she saw why, as two other Slayers passed by them on their way to the showers. "Thought you didn't care if they saw," Beth whispered.
"Don't, but I know you do," Spike answered, hand sliding down to squeeze her ass. "Go on before I change m'mind."
Beth whined again, but it was more of a good natured whine than a hungry one. "Okay, okay, but I swear, you better finish what you started," she threatened.
"Depends on how the bits feel after I've iced them down a bit," he pointed out. "If you wanted 'em to work, you shouldn't have kicked so hard." He didn't mention the ice would give him a very big edge should he decide to make her beg a little. He figured he was entitled, after all.
Beth just blew him a kiss as she disappeared into the locker room. The tape around her wrists got tossed in the trash, and she stowed her sweaty clothes in her gym bag, and she'd take them with her when she left later, and made sure her clean clothes were hung up inside the locker door.
Paranoid because her gun was also in the locker, she locked it after stripping down, and padded nakedly over to the showers. The stalls were separated by three-quarter walls, but Beth was entirely too comfortable with her nudity as she walked into the first available one and turned the water on.
She scrubbed her shampoo through her hair and scalp, dragged the soap over her body, and tried not to listen to the conversation going on beside her.
"Yeah, the librarian's kinda hot, for an old guy." Girl One.
"Old? He's a fossil!" Girl Two giggled. "But the Watcher kid, that likes Star Wars? Andrew? I'd do him in a heartbeat."
"Gay," proclaimed Girl One. "So's the other one, Ainsley."
"Well, yeah, Ainsley I had pegged as gay from the start," agreed Girl Two. "Hey, what about the guy with the scar over his eye?"
"I heard he's kinda funny in the head," confided Girl One. "Also, he's Buffy's ex. Don't touch another Slayer's man, know what I mean?"
"Oh, yeah. Good point," Girl Two admitted, and they both laughed. "Guess that means the vamps are off limits."
"Depends on who you are." Girl One said, but then changed the subject quickly. "What about the new guy, the Englishman?"
"Oh, um… God, what's his name. Wesley!" Girl Two nodded. "Total hunk. Double-team?"
"Hell yes." Girl One.
Beth rolled her eyes, and quickly finished her shower. She grabbed a towel from the stack by the showers, wrapped it around her body, and grabbed another to dry her hair off with as she wandered back over to her locker.
Idly she listened to the background noise, noting that the other two showers cut off not long after hers. She spun the combination on her lock and started getting dressed when the two girls' conversation drifted over from the other side of the lockers.
"So what'd you think about the vamps, anyway?" Girl Two asked.
"Well, Spike was way hot. I mean, did you see the way he moves around? Can you imagine how good he'd be in bed?" Girl One asked.
Yes, Beth could imagine, and she smiled.
"But the other one? Angel? Ew, no." Girl One again, and Beth could hear the rude noise she made. And she bristled.
"No?" Girl Two asked. "I thought he was okay."
"Are you blind? He's chunky, he's pale, and did you see how huge the forehead was? You could hang a billboard on it!"
Beth clenched her fists, pulling her shorts on fast and then her shirt, mentally chastising herself. You will not punch out a fellow Slayer. You will not punch out a fellow Slayer. You will not punch out a fellow Slayer.
Girl Two tittered, and Girl One kept talking. "Not to mention the fact that he's got the whole Messiah-save-the-world complex, and ew. I'm not gonna even look at a guy that has to save the world before he can--"
The girl's words got cut off by a fist smashing her face, and Beth felt something crunch.
Beth had listened to as much as she was going to listen to, and she'd come around the corner of the locker row. The girls were pissing her off, because Angel was her friend and they didn't know him the way that she did. Had no idea of the burdens he carried, and part of her kept willing the girl to just shut the fuck up already.
But she didn't, and Beth didn't say a word. She just clamped a hand on the girl's shoulder, swung her around, and plowed her fist into the girl's face. The nose broke with the first punch, and that had been the crunch that Beth heard.
The second girl, the one who'd been laughing, wasn't laughing now as she tried to pull Beth off her friend. Beth wouldn't budge, and shoved Girl Two back into the lockers head-first. She went down, and Girl One screamed.
Beth silenced the scream with another fist to the face, and soon she was whaling with both hands, dragging the girl up and forcing her to stand for kicks and body blows. Girl One tried to fight Beth off, but Beth wasn't going to be put off. She shoved Girl One back into the lockers, and she was reaching for the girl's throat when someone suddenly yanked her off and tossed her to the side.
Seeing red, she jumped to her feet until she realized it'd been Spike that pulled her off, and there were a couple more Slayers in there, clustering around Girl One and Girl Two.
"Sodding hell, woman, what in blazes got into you?" Spike demanded. "You're bloody as hell… come on. Let's get you out of here and you can explain on the way." He grabbed her by the wrist and started to pull, but Beth pulled back.
"Wait! My bag, my gun!"
"Bloody… you've got a gun?" Spike glared. "Should be glad you didn't use the bloody thing." He sighed, and dragged her over to the locker, which was still open from where she'd gotten dressed. Pulling her shoes out, he shoved them at her. "Put the sodding things on." He cleaned out the locker, sweeping her toiletries and the gun into the gym bag with the dirty laundry. "Now, move it!"
Beth took the bag, pulled the gun out, and shoved it down the back of her shorts, pressed against the small of her back. "Now we can go." She snarled at Girl Two, who was struggling to sit up, and Spike dragged her out of the locker room.
He didn't stop dragging her until they were in the parking garage, and he pointed to the car they'd come in. "Get in, and tell me what in the bloody hell had you off the bloody rails like that."
"Uh, you might want to countermand that order," Angel said casually, leaning against the front of the car. He pointed at Beth. "My office, now." Then he pointed at Spike. "Out of my building."
Spike stiffened. "Ain't moving."
Beth tossed her duffel into the car then slammed the door shut. "Got those old sweats I used to sleep in?"
Angel inclined his head. "Right where you left 'em."
Spike wasn't loving this little scene. "Excuse me, but if you're goin' up with the big pouf then I'm going too."
Beth shook her head. "No you're not," she said softly, knowing that Spike didn't want to hear what Beth was going to say. "Trust me. It'll be okay. Get something to eat, and I'll meet you when we're done."
Spike scowled, and he made to argue, reaching up to pull Beth's hair down from the bun that she'd put it in after the fight. "Don't like it, pet. Him orderin' you about and the like, and you're takin' it."
"Cause he is the boss," she pointed out, and caught Spike's hand to kiss it. "How about you give us a half an hour, then come on up."
"Or he could not come up," Angel suggested.
"Okay, either he comes up in a half an hour, or you can head back to the hotel with both of us and we can talk there," Beth said, getting a little irked. "Because I'm trying really hard to compromise between the two of you and the absolute last thing I'm going to deal with right now is a pissing contest between the two of you. Now, you can both decide what the hell you want to do, and you let me know." She perched on the trunk of the car, pulled out her gun, and started checking the magazine, the sight, and the safety while she waited.
Angel and Spike looked at each other then both of them looked at Beth who was fiddling with her gun, and then back at each other.
Angel caved first. "Okay, fine. Half an hour."
"Great!" Beth hopped off the car, put the safety back on the gun, and handed it to Spike. "You still got the key to my condo here, right? It goes on the wall, between the Desert Eagle and the mother-of-pearl handled 9 millimeter," she said. "Exchange it for the Sig Sauer P228; it'll be off to the side by itself."
Spike took the gun and put it in his pocket. "I have no idea what that looks like."
Beth laughed. "Hang on." Diving into the duffel, she dug through it until she came out with her wallet, and flipped through the pictures. "There. Tabby's got the Sig." She pulled the picture out and gave it to him. "There. Match the gun to the one in the picture and you won't go wrong."
Spike took the picture and looked at it like it was a dead rat. "And you need a gun because?"
Beth shrugged. "Because I always carry one."
Spike blinked. "Given that temper of yours, love, may not be the smartest thing t'do," he pointed out. "Last thing you need to do is to whip that bloody thing out and pop off a few into someone's head."
Angel had to bite down hard on his cheek to muffle the laughter. "Spike, she's not gonna shoot anyone, except maybe you and me, and bullets don't kill us."
"Hurts like bloody blazes, though, and thanks all the same, I'd really rather not be pickin' lead out of me bum all night." Spike shook his head. "You need a less lethal hobby, Bethie."
It was Beth's turn to bite down on what she was going to say, and she just smiled at Spike. "Bring me my Sig, please?"
Spike growled. "Sodding… all right." He leaned in for a kiss, letting his fingers drift through her hair and pull her close. "Be good, pet." He stomped off after that.
Beth stowed the bag back in the car before looking up at Angel. "Your office?"
Angel nodded. "My office, now."
The windows had been blacked out, and while Beth could see out of them, she'd noticed walking in that they were opaque from curious outside eyes. "That's handy," she said, waving her had back towards the windows.
"Wesley spelled them for me," he explained shortly. "Sit."
Beth sat.
"Marissa's got a broken nose, a bruised cheekbone, two black eyes and a split lip, not to mention a few cracked ribs. And Tory's got a nice concussion from being slammed headfirst into the lockers," Angel reported, leaning against the front of his desk. "Seems there was a fight in the girl's locker room." Once he gave his damage report, he went to the closet behind the couch in his office, and pulled out the sweats that Beth had left there. "Might want to change out of your bloody clothes."
"Thanks." Beth ducked behind the couch, changing quickly. "I hadn't heard about that fight."
"Really?" Sarcasm dripped from Angel's every word. "Funny, see, the description of the girl I got was a short blonde chick that got dragged out of the room by Spike, and immediately, you jumped right to mind."
"See, now, that's just not fair. Just because I'm going out with Spike right now, I get hauled in by Daddy for questioning?" She popped out from behind the couch in the clean clothes, and had the dirty ones balled up under her arm.
"Oh cut the crap," Angel answered impatiently. "One of the other girls knew who you were and identified you. Beth, how many times have I told you, you can't go around beating the crap out of the people who piss you off!"
"They were making fun of one of my friends!" she shot back heatedly.
"Everybody makes fun of Spike!" he countered.
"They were making fun of YOU! So I punched her in the mouth."
That stunned Angel into a brief silence. "… me?"
I must not head slap my best friend. I must not head slap my best friend. I must not head slap my best friend. Beth closed her eyes and repeated the mantra to herself ten times, then counted to ten in human and Ahmantz. Her temper must've been improving; usually she required human, Ahmantz and Fyarl. "Yes, Angel. You."
"That's… unexpected." Angel blinked, trying to comprehend that.
I must not head slap my best friend. I must not head slap my best friend. I must not head slap my best friend, even if he is a self-deprecating moron. Deep breath. "No, no, it's really not unexpected if you ever bothered to listen to a single word that ever comes out of my mouth," Beth said, as calmly as possible.
"I listen!" Angel protested lamely. He still didn't get why Beth would be fighting over an insult to him, although in his defense, he hadn't gotten it the first time, either. It was a sweet gesture, though.
"No, you don't." Beth's hands were on her hips as she glared at Angel. "If you listen, you'd realize that you're my best friend--I've pretty much declared that from the roof and all but took out a billboard," she pointed out. "And it also would not come as a complete and utter shock to you that I defend my friends, physically when necessary."
"I knew we were still friends," he said sulkily. Maybe not best friends, because best friends didn't go off and sleep with Spike, but they were still friends. "What'd she say that pissed you off so much?"
Beth threw up her hands. "Does it matter? It was something, about you, that I didn't like. That should be enough."
"Well, yeah, it does matter, cause I'd kind of like to be able to warn people what's gonna set you off," Angel pointed out. "I mean, if it's idle wow he sucks talk, then see, I have to yell at you for going off the deep end and the whole kinship among Slayers spiel, and then I get all pompous and long-winded and it turns into an unpleasant experience all the way around. But, if it's seriously negative about me, I can say Thanks for watching my back!, which means I get to save the lectures for the girl with the broken face."
"RAAAAAAAAH!" Beth gave a little screech of frustration. "You wanna know? Fine. Broken Nose said you were fat, pale, and had a forehead big enough to hang a billboard on, and then she went on to make fun of your saving people, said you had a Messiah complex and was about to make a derogatory comment about how you saving people would get in the way of her self-centered grab for attention when all of a sudden, she tried to swallow my fist whole."
Angel just dragged a hand over his face, trying to figure out what in the hell he was going to say. Both thanks and lecture seemed equally appropriate in light of what Beth had just said, and there was the added pressure of the clock ticking on Spike's approach, because he sincerely doubted the other vampire was going to wait the full half hour. "First, thank you for defending my honor." Even if I didn't quite need it. "But you can't keep punching people out over random locker-room talk, Beth. You just can't. Everybody talks about everybody else, that's just the way things are around here, especially among a bunch of quacking girls." If Cordelia and Harmony had taught him anything about more than two women together in one spot, it was that.
"This is why most of my friends in high school were boys," she said in a huff. "Boys don't talk shit about other boys. They talk about the good things. Music, cars, guns, smokes in the can, that kind of thing." She huffed again.
"That's not the point, and you know it," Angel scolded. "Girls talk. And there are a lot of girls here. And obviously, they're not going to like everyone. You can't just punch someone out around here because you don't like what they're saying. It's not right." He waggled a finger at her. "No punching people out because they say derogatory things about Spike." He paused. "Unless it's me. You can punch me out all you want to, and I won't take it personally."
"If that's the case, I'd never stop punching your nose in," Beth pointed out. "You never have anything nice to say about Spike."
"Well? Problem solved. You can crunch my nose in whenever you want to, and you can leave the rest of the Slayers alone, okay?" Angel grinned. "Win-win."
Beth made a rude noise. "I'm not sorry I did it."
"I didn't ask you to be," Angel agreed. "And I'm going to have a talk with Broken No--I mean, Marissa--and let her know that she was out of line in what she said. But it can't happen again, okay?"
Rolling her eyes skyward, she threw her hands up in the air. "Or what? You'll arrest me? You'll throw me into Slayer jail? Kick me out of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Stakes?"
"Don't make me issue an ultimatum," Angel warned.
"Then don't go around issuing me orders like I belong to you or something. We tried that before and it didn't work, remember?" That was a low blow, but Beth didn't wince.
Neither did Angel, but it did make his back stiffen and chip at his pride. "Fine. Go around beating up anyone who says anything you disagree with. Go beat up anyone who says anything about your precious little Spike."
"Can I just take a moment and remind you that you are the one who brought Spike into this conversation, not me. And that it was you I was defending from some two-bit cunt--yes, I said cunt--who thinks she's better than you are when she doesn't even know the half of it!" Beth got back up into Angel's face, her finger poking his shoulder. "And if you think, even for a second, that I am going to let your blustering stop me from stepping up for the people I believe in, have you ever got your wires crossed, buster."
Angel grabbed Beth's finger as it was poking his shoulder, and yanked her in by the wrist so she would stop. She ended up pressed against his chest, and Beth pushed up on her tip-toes to kiss him. This kiss was hot and intense, with Angel's hands moving into Beth's hair and his tongue stabbing into her mouth.
He pushed her away in the next instant, moving to the other side of the desk and keeping most of the room between them. "Get out."
Beth just nodded; that was the best piece of advice she'd gotten all day. "This never happened."
"Agreed," Angel said, but it was swallowed up in the slamming of the door.
In the hallway, Beth ducked into the women's bathroom, scrubbing her hands and face clean of the crusted blood from Marissa's injuries. Her own knuckles stung like hell, but she'd treat them when she got back to the hotel. Wincing just a little, she cupped her hands and brought a handful of water up to her mouth, rinsing it out and spitting the water back into the sink.
She splashed a few more handfuls onto her face, then dried off with several paper towels as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked clean and normal, and she smiled at her reflection. No big thing, girl, she said silently to the mirror.
Pushing the door open, she nearly smacked Spike in the face. "Oh! Shit! Spike, are you all right?"
He danced back just in time to keep himself from a broken nose. "Oi, watch the bleedin' pedestrians, woman. What're you doin' in there? I figured you'd be stuck with the Forehead's lecturin' still. I was gonna rescue you, be all manly like."
"No, he scolded me, threatened me with a bunch of vague, don't make me threaten you type things, and then he told me to get out and clean up. Said he was gonna have a chat with Miss Broken Nose." She slipped her arm through his elbow. "Told me I was gonna have to stop punching out people who said nasty things about you and him and anyone else I get pissy about, because we're all sister-Slayers and blah blah blah. I told him I got no intention of stopping."
Spike scowled, expression darkening. "He did, eh? Well, bully for him." He tightened his grip on her elbow, and dragged her towards the elevator. "Let's get out, what you say?" He didn't give her a chance to disagree.
-------
On the way back to the Huntley Arms, Beth watched Spike out of the corner of her eye. He'd insisted on driving, which didn't bother her in the least, but he was quite. Brooding almost, definitely angry about something.
At a stoplight, Beth had twisted her hair up on the back of her head, using an old pair of chopsticks from the glove compartment to hold it up. At the next stop, Spike yanked the chopsticks out, snapped them in half, and threw them out the window.
She didn't try it again after that, and Spike hadn't spoken a word since they left the Pod. He pulled the car to an eventual stop under the hotel's awning, and Beth gave the keys to the valet, reminding him of her room number.
By the time she caught up with Spike, he was halfway up the first flight of stairs. Knowing better than to waste her breath chattering, she concentrated on keeping pace with the angry vampire. He was still silent as he dug out his key card--Beth had gone ahead and paid for a second key and double-occupancy--and swiped it.
Beth sprinted the last few steps, nipping through the door before it slammed shut. "Well?" she asked, once they were alone.
Spike nearly ignored the question as he lit a cigarette. "Well, what?"
Beth gave Spike a glare. "What's up with the silent treatment? And the cold shoulder?" She casually tossed her bag onto the table, then put the Sig down carefully on the bedside table. "What'd I do to piss you off?"
He sneered. "Don't you think a lot of yourself? Not everythin' is about you, love."
That stung, but Beth refused to show it. "Well, excuse me for worrying."
"Oh, piss off," Spike snarled. "Go play the wounded kitten routine with someone who gives a damn." The implication was clear; he certainly didn't.
That didn't cut as deeply, maybe because she knew differently. "Maybe I'll call Angel up, see if he'd like to talk."
"Yeah, you do that," Spike said with a laugh. "Because you're obviously at the top of his list of fun dates after today's little scene, ranked right up there with the Dog-Face Girl." He blew a ring of smoke at the ceiling. "You'd be about as welcome as a whore in a church."
Well, that one she couldn't argue; she definitely wasn't on Angel's top ten list right at the moment. "So talk to me, Spike."
"No, thanks all the same. Not in a sharin'-type mood right now," he answered airily, though he felt far from cheerful.
That was another sting, and it made Beth withdraw. "Suit yourself." Turning her back to him, she changed out of her shorts and into a pair of jeans. Her gun went to nestle against the small of her back, and she pulled her hair back into a bun.
Spike scowled deeply as she put her hair up. "Where you goin'?"
"Out," she said simply. Her intention was to head to the firing range, so she went to the dresser and pulled out two of her other guns, a Desert Eagle and a Glock. Ejecting the mags first, both empty guns got dropped in her bag. "Later."
"Wait a second, where do you think you're goin'?" Spike perked up from his slouch and headed for the door.
"Out, I said," Beth repeated, and closed the door behind her. Her jacket was still in the car, so she slung the strap of the bag over her shoulder.
By the time she'd come out the stairwell, Spike was getting off the elevator. "Beth!"
"Leave me be. I'm going to find someone who cares about the wounded kitten routine," she spat out over her shoulder, and headed out through the open café beside the hotel, knowing Spike couldn't follow in the sunshine.
Beth was not impressed.
The Los Angeles Indoor Pistol Range was not as comfortable as Abilene Clay Sports, nor did they have the skeet launcher that ACS had had, but it was a nice enough range. The headgear smelled faintly of antiseptic, and the eye shields were disposable, which was nice because you weren't wearing the germy glasses that a hundred other people had worn before you.
All three of her weapons had passed inspection, and she'd bought two boxes of ammo each for the Glock and the Desert Eagle, and three for the Sig; what she didn't use, she'd take back and add to her cache at the Pod. She was half tempted to rent a shotgun, but since all they had were paper targets and no clay, she decided to stick with just the handguns.
She loaded the Glock by instinct, squaring her stance and tearing through a full clip on a single target.
Four headshots and the rest were chest and upper body, and she frowned. She'd expected more headshots, but wasn't too disappointed. It wasn't like vampire slaying required the use of a gun, and this was more to keep her in shape than anything else.
She'd set her cell to vibrate before she'd even entered the shooting stall, and it was vibrating it's little cover off against her hip. Ignoring it, she reloaded a second clip into the Glock, squared her stance again, and concentrated on the paper target.
This time, the results were much more to her liking. Nearly half the fifteen rounds had been headshots, and the rest were neck and upper body. "Now that's more like it," she said under her breath, and ejected the empty clip. She'd bought enough ammo to have six full clips and she burned through the remaining four and boxed up the loose rounds to take home. The Glock went back in her bag, and the Desert Eagle came out.
There was a tap on her shoulder, and Beth didn't take her attention from the gun, expecting a range officer or someone double-checking to make sure the .357s she'd bought were full metal jackets. Instead, she was surprised when an English accent breathed in her ear.
"You're a hard one to track down. Do y'have any idea how many bloody shooting ranges there are in this city?"
Beth closed her eyes. "Gear up or get out. There's a spectator box back there if you want to watch."
"There's three in the city, and a pissload in the 'burbs," Spike continued as if he hadn't heard her. "So what're we shootin'?"
"I'm shooting a Desert Eagle Mark 19 with a 9-round .357 magazine. You are target practice if you don't back the fuck off," Beth said calmly, slamming the mag home and racking back the bolt.
"You're certainly a ray of sunshine when you're playin' with your guns," Spike said, reaching for the second pair of headgear and eye shields.
Beth ignored him, and ignored the urge to whip the gun around and pump the full count into Spike's chest. Instead she focused again on the new paper target, lined up the sight on the pistol, and rapid-fired the nine rounds. They tore large, ragged holes in the paper, and she smirked as she hit the button that brought the target back to her. The head was nearly obliterated, and the chest and upper body was punched through like Swiss cheese. She tore the target down and handed it to Spike. "There you go. Present from me to you. Now, how did you say it… oh yeah. Piss off."
Spike took the target, rolled it up, and put it inside the pocket of his jacket, and he didn't rise to the bait. He just waited for Beth to tear through her ammunition, and when she'd finished with the Eagle, he put his hand on hers. "Don't."
"Don't shoot you? Don't worry, I'm not going to. It'd cause me more headaches and give me an arrest record and I really don't want that," she explained.
"Don't go getting' bitchy on me. Doesn't suit you." He frowned. "Why've you got your hair up? I like it better down."
"Which is why I have it up. Excuse me, I wasn't the one giving the cold shoulder out earlier." Beth kept her voice down by great willpower. "And you were the one who told me to piss off and find someone else who cared. So I did. I found Mister .357 and Mister Glock 9mm," she added. Spike reached for his cigarettes and Beth stopped him. "No smokes on the range."
"Then can we please get out of here?" Spike asked, irritated. "Don't like havin' to chase you down like a child and drag you back."
Beth had been willing to go back right up until the mention of child, and she stiffened. "Wow," she said softly. "I thought I knew how to go for the jugular, but you got me beat in that. Well, I don't suppose I should be surprised about that." She shoved him out of her booth. "Get out."
"Not unless you come with me," Spike said firmly, planting himself between her and the target.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Beth answered softly, eyes flashing between anger and hurt. She shoved the guns and leftover rounds in her bag, left the empty brass where it fell, and hung up the headgear and eye shields on their little hooks.
A mild ripple of applause followed her, and she was surprised to see that a small group of people had been watching her, and she waved as she walked away from Spike. She was surprised to see that dusk had fallen, because she hadn't realized that she'd been at the range that long.
Spike doggedly followed her out, and Beth was very careful not to make a public scene. Instead she just hailed a cab, and ducked under Spike's arm when he tried to block the door. "I brought the bloody car."
"Good for you; make sure you put gas in the tank before you park it again," she said, then gave the driver her destination. "Huntley Arms." She looked up at Spike. "You confuse me," she admitted, leaving the door open for just a moment. "I thought I had a grip on you, and I don't. I don't know what to think."
"Join the sodding show," he admitted in return. "Look, y'got a right to be pissed, but so do I. Just… c'mon back with me."
"You gonna talk to me this time?" she asked. "Cause if you're not, I'm taking the cab back, getting some dinner, and going back to the Pod cause I've got a load of work I could be doing."
"C'mon, sister, give the guy a chance," chimed in the cabbie. "Guys don't always know how to cough up what's stuck in their gullets, but give him a little help--"
"Or the Heimlich," Beth muttered.
"Exactly," said the cabbie. "Just give 'im a little squeeze, and it'll pop right out."
Spike looked appropriately disturbed by that metaphor, and had absolutely no idea what to say to that. "Right, well, you gonna listen to the smart fella here, or you gonna leave me heartbroken on the sidewalk?" he asked, figuring he might as well lay on the charm while he had an accomplice, however temporary.
Beth sighed. "If this ends up with me punching him, I'm blaming you… Raj," she said, squinting at the man's hack license on display as she got out of the cab. The cabbie just waved, and Beth looked up at Spike. "So where'd you park?"
-----
The second ride back to the hotel was just as silent as the first one had been. But there were also a few differences; Beth took her hair down by herself, and Spike gently stroked his fingers through it. He waited for inside the hotel, and they went up on the elevator together.
Back inside the room, Spike watched silently as Beth tended to her guns, unloaded them and put them back inside the dresser. Once everything was properly put away, Beth perched on the bathroom counter. "You wanna go first or you want me to?"
"You can." Spike was more than willing to get Beth go first, because the longer she talked, the longer he didn't have to.
"Kay." She looked down at her feet. "The crap you said before I left. Most of it didn't really bother me--I'm used to over-reacting and saying things I don't mean. But the not wanting to share? That did bug me. I know I sound like a girl here, but I share things with you. Good or bad, happy or sad. And the fact that there was something you didn't want to tell me, that bothered me more than I'd like to admit. Rather than let you say something to really piss me off, I went out."
Spike looked vaguely abashed, but he'd learned from experience not to interrupt Beth while she was talking.
"I'd have even left the range with you, but… you called me a child."
"I did not!" Okay, he had to interrupt over that.
"But you did. And that was the worst. I've told you before… Angel always thought of me as a child, as a girl, and I loved that you never did."
Spike's head jerked up--that'd been the first time either one of them had used that word, and he wondered if she did it deliberately or not. Probably had. Sodding women.
Beth hadn't seemed to notice. "I loved that I was a woman to you. Some kind of an equal, even. I don't know." She sighed. "I guess I never expected that, and that hurt the most."
Spike let out a relieved sigh; she hadn't actually said it, so he didn't have to panic over it quite yet. "I wouldn't have called you a child, Beth. Know how you feel 'bout it."
She shook her head sadly. "Don't like havin' to chase you down like a child and drag you back," she repeated from memory.
Oh, sodding fuck. Spike hadn't even realized how that'd sounded until she'd repeated it. "I didn't call you a child, jus' that you were acting like one," he explained, belatedly realizing that might not have been the argument that was going to win.
"Same difference, though," Beth agreed. "I just… didn't expect it from you. Not after everything else."
Spike growled softly. "I'm--"
"I don't want your apology," Beth interrupted. "But you got a right to know what upset me."
"Fair 'nuff," Spike answered after a moment. "So what do y'want?"
Beth shrugged. "I don't really have an answer for that," she admitted. "I know what I don't want. I don't want an apology. I don't want to make--or hear, I'm sorry--any confessions other than what's on your mind. I don't want things to be uncomfortable between us. And I don't want you to leave."
Spike considered those things for a few moments. He'd been sitting on the edge of the bed, but as he thought, he flopped back to stare at the ceiling. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he finally admitted. "An' I won't apologize." He laced his fingers over his stomach.
"Then I'm getting comfortable." Beth moved off the skin, pulling her sweats off and moving to sit on the other side of the bed.
Spike gently dragged his fingers over Beth's bare back and through her hair. It helped him to think. Beth seemed to know that, and didn't push him. "D'you love him, pet?" Spike finally asked, bracing himself for whatever answer came.
"Yes," she answered honestly. "But only as a friend." Although the kiss they'd shared said otherwise. "I'm not in love with him, if that's what you're asking."
Spike's hand faltered in its gentle stroking, but he realized as she answered that he'd asked the wrong question. Though he knew she tried to hide it behind the tough girl act, Beth was emotional as hell and attached herself fiercely and loyally to her friends. He really admired that about her. "D'you love me?"
The answer came without hesitation--or clarification. "Yes, I do."
"Same as you do Angel?" Spike continued.
That answer took Beth a lot longer to formulate. "No. More than," she finally admitted. Truthfully, she was relatively certain she could say I love you, and mean it. But she wasn't going to deal with that tonight.
Spike nodded, and took the answer for what it was. "So Angel's your friend, I'm more than your friend, but the two times you've stepped up for someone, it's been bloody Angel you're defending like he's a damsel in bloody distress and you're some kind of sodding white knight protectin' his virtue."
Beth laughed softly. "Only because you're the more likeable of the pair. Believe me."
Spike pushed up on his elbows at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Beth leaned back, her head resting on Spike's stomach, half-smiling at the ceiling. "In the showers earlier? Broken Nose and Concussion Girl were discussing everybody in the Pod. All the guys, anyway. Giles was too old, Riley was too crazy, and they were going to double-team Wesley. I don't even want to know. Then they mentioned you. Said you were hot, and Broken Nose asked if the other one could imagine how good you'd be in bed." The smile got a little wider. "I could imagine."
"… huh." Spike blinked, looking down at Beth's head in his lap. "So… those girls weren't just pissin' in your ear about Angel, they were discussing everybody, and he was the one they came down?"
"In a nutshell," she agreed.
"So what'd they say about Angel that earned the Wrath of Elspeth?"
Beth elbowed him in the ribs. "Jesus Christ. Not you too. First Angel wants a blow-by-blow and now you do!"
"Hey!" Spike caught her elbow before it could jab him a second time. "I just want to know what it takes to get your ire up so I don't get punched in the face when I call him a smarmy git."
"If I knew what that was, I'd punch you," she pointed out, yanking her elbow free. "But, if you must know, they called him pale and chunky with a forehead big enough to accommodate a billboard, and then they yammered on about how stupid his Messiah complex was before I punched her."
Spike's eyebrows nearly danced off the top of his head. "So, all in all, somethin' similar to what I might say."
"Yeah. No. Yeah, okay, yes, but? You get a pass. You and Angel have history. Granted, the first time I punched you in the face, I didn't exactly know all the details and you weren't exactly being the cuddly Care Bear you are now," she said in her own defense. "Now, though? If he says something about you or you yap off about him, it's not a deal. It's just the normal Spike and Angel relationship snarking, and I just roll my eyes and go with it. Although given past history, I do owe Angel a pummeling over you just to even up the odds."
"Damn right you do. So why haven't you yet?" Spike demanded.
"Like I said. I get that there's this… animosity or whatever between you and Angel that isn't going to get toned down any time soon. And, in Angel's defense, I've finally gotten it beaten through that thick skull of his that if he does talk shit about you, I am going to act on it, and he's been better about not saying it to me."
Spike just shook his head, and tried to let it go. But he couldn't. "Y'know, that really bugs me."
"Three months, Spike," she reminded him.
"Three months what?" he asked.
"Three months since I told Angel it was over," she pointed out. "And it was a month or two before that that I actually started to like you. There was a lot of missed opportunity between the time we first met and then," she added. "And there haven't been that many chances since, although I promise," Beth continued, raising three fingers in the Girl Scout salute, "that if I get the chance to pummel someone to defend your honor, I will do so."
That mollified Spike slightly. "Guess I could look at it like bein' glad that everybody seems to think I'm hot," he conceded.
"That is one way to look at it," Beth agreed. "Another way is that even the people who don't like you have nothing bad to say about you."
That made Spike grin. "Yeah, sometimes it ain't easy bein' me."
Beth laughed, feeling more relaxed than she had felt since they'd gotten back from the shooting range. She rolled off Spike, swung her feet up onto the bed, and then turned onto her side, head propped on her hand as she looked down at him. "So why'd you come into the locker room and pull me off the girl?" she asked, drawing little circles on his chest with her fingertip.
"Figured better me break it up than someone else," he said with a shrug. He reached up, catching her hand and holding it still on his skin. "Why'd you agree to go with Angel?"
"Cause I knew he'd be required to fuss at me. Tabitha taught me, always respect your chain of command. Normally that meant just me and her, but the theory still sticks. Angel's the big dog, whether I like it or not, and it's his responsibility to be peacekeeper. I was due an ass-chewing, and he was gonna be the one to dole it out. I figured if he did it in peace and quiet, just the two of us, that'd be a lot less rumors and a lot less for you to get worked up about him yelling at me over," she answered honestly.
Spike digested that for a moment before putting out the next question. "So it wasn't just to get some time alone with the Doughboy?"
Beth socked him in the shoulder playfully. "Of course not," she said, leaning over and kissing him gently and softly. "You don't like Angel and Angel doesn't like you. But I like you both, and that means I'm always gonna be in the middle, kind of like a chew toy with a couple terriers. I'm always going to take the path of least resistance. Sometimes that means I tell him to go to hell. Sometimes that means I ask you to hang back and give me space. Doesn't mean I'm doing it to get time alone with him. Does mean I am trying to keep things status quo." She linked her fingers with his, and studied them for a moment. "Why don't you trust me?"
Spike did sigh at that. "It's not that I don't. Just… don't have a good track record, is all. Every girl I've had a shine to has dropped me for Angel when the wind blew right. An' they all come back, sniffin' for Spike when Angel don't got time for them, and I'm… not wantin' that again."
Beth nuzzled against Spike's neck. "I'm not Buffy. And I'm not Drusilla, either, and I'm not gonna leave you for Angel." She kissed the back of his hand. "I know you always think that, but give me a chance to prove that I'm different and I won't let you down."
"Does it make me selfish? I mean, that I want somethin' all m'own?"
"No, it doesn't make you selfish." She looked seriously at him. "I lied earlier, when I said I wasn't going to make any big confessions. Sometimes I'm scared that you'll decide it's not worth it, that you can find great sex with someone else who didn't break up with Angel first, someone that could be all yours that you don't have to worry about."
Spike gave a shake of his head. "Don't worry about that, not gonna leave you." He pulled his hand loose to stroke it through her hair and pull her head back down to his shoulder. "I just get resentful like, is all. Churns up in my belly until it just boils over."
"I can understand why." Beth let Spike pull her head back down. "I'm trying, here. And, I'm sorry if I've hurt you."
"Hey." He gently tweaked her hair. "If I can't apologize, then you can't either."
"Oh, where is that rule written?" she teased. "I can too."
"Can't. Cause I say so. That's where it's bloody written."
Beth grinned against his neck. "That's logic I can't argue with."
Spike's fingers went back to carding through Beth's hair. "… was this a fight?"
"Mmhmm," Beth answered.
"A real one?" he questioned, looking for verification.
"Looks like," she agreed with a grin.
"Then… there's one last part of this we're missin'," he answered, grinning back at her.
"Oh? And what's that?" she asked innocently.
Spike hauled her over, rolling so that he was pinning her against the pillows. "I think there's a rule somewhere that after there's a fight, there's shagging."
Beth giggled. "Then I'm owed two shags."
Spike tilted his head and contemplated that for a second. "No, because remember, y'promised to make up to me for kicking me in the stones," he reminded her. "Which, incidentally, you've yet to follow through on. So I'm the one owed two shags, missy." He rolled onto his back and tugged her on top of him. "Best be gettin' busy then."
Beth balanced herself easily on top of Spike, looking down at him as her hands rested on his chest. "When, exactly, did I promise this?" she asked with a grin.
Spike ran his hands up her arms, gripping her elbows. "Right after you nailed me in the wrinklies. Y'promised to kiss 'em and make 'em all better." He remembered that very clearly.
"That's right, I did." Beth tugged out of Spike's grasp and started kissing her way down his chest. She paused right before she got to his navel. "I also distinctly remember you grabbing me by the hair, getting me nice and hot, and then sending me off to the showers."
Spike's hand slipped back into Beth's hair and fisted tightly. "Like that, pet?" he asked softly, keeping his grip firm.
Beth moaned softly. "Just like that." She licked her lips, shuddering softly as Spike's grip tightened. She felt the nudge downward and she went eagerly. Her tongue darted out, following the dips and rises along Spike's abs before planting soft kisses on each ridge of muscle.
He nudged her a little more, and she dragged her tongue along his hipbone, following the groove downward until she could trail kisses on his thigh. Nuzzling the soft skin of his sac, Beth gave each one of Spike's balls a tender kiss, and licked over each one.
He drew in a quick breath that he didn't need, his grip in Beth's hair tightening as he shifted.
Beth looked up instantly. "Did I hurt you?" she whispered.
Spike managed to groan out a laugh. "No, God no." Even if she had, he wouldn't have stopped her. It just felt too damn good.
Grinning, Beth winked at him, dragging her nails over his calf as her teeth scraped lightly over his cock. He shuddered again, and Beth moved her hand to steady the shaft as her tongue licked along the length. Her lips captured the head, pulling it into her mouth for an experimental suck.
Then she smiled, letting his hard cock slip out of her mouth. "Looks like I didn't do any lasting damage," she teased, more than a little breathless and moving away playfully even though she had no intention of being finished yet.
"Might oughta do a more thorough check," he teased back. It felt oddly comfortable for them to be teasing each other, but he couldn't put a finger on why.
"Maybe I should," she agreed, and shifted her weight back to do just that. His fingers were still in her hair, threaded loosely in approval as her hand wrapped back around his cock. Her need to tease him was dying fast under how much she wanted him, and she guided his cock to her mouth.
Spike's other hand threaded into her hair also, holding her head between his hands as he lifted his hips, pushing his cock into Beth's mouth. Her nails dug into his wrists as she groaned, rubbing her legs together as she urged Spike to move.
Growling softly, he rolled until she was on her back, and he pinned her arms over her head. The head of his cock pressed against her lips, and Spike pushed roughly as Beth's lips opened. His cock slid in easily and he groaned as her tongue wrapped around the shaft, keeping it wet as he started to fuck the slick track of her throat.
Though her arms were pinned down Beth lifted her head, relaxing her throat so that Spike could push to his full length. She slurped hungrily, and her arms strained against his grip. As a Slayer she should've been able to throw him off, but she didn't really want to. She liked feeling Spike looming over her. His other hand went back to her hair, fisting tightly and moving her head around to suit him as she rubbed her thighs together again.
Spike could smell how wet she was. He felt her fighting, just enough to let him know she was okay with it, that she was turned on by it, too. He'd known she liked it rough, but hadn't tried to push it too far. But he wanted to now; he wanted to make sure that Beth knew she belonged to him; he needed to know it, too.
The deep, heavy scent of wetness oozing between her legs was the only thing Spike could smell when he breathed in. He licked his lips and it was so thick around him he could almost taste it. Would taste it later. He looked down at her, watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth as it stretched around the shaft. He shuddered hard, and her eyes opened, looking up at him. What he saw startled him, and he was coming before he knew it.
Beth swallowed greedily, her tongue working as she sucked to make sure she'd gotten every bit she could. Groaning against his shaft, she nuzzled it with soft kisses as he moved slowly off of her.
Pushing him back down, Beth climbed onto his lap, but Spike's arms caught her around the waist and pulled her against his side. His thumb stroked over her cheek, fingertip trailing down her temple. "Say what you're thinkin'," he demanded in a soft whisper, almost horrified when it came out as a desperate plea instead.
Beth turned her head to kiss his fingertip then nip his thumb. "I can't," she murmured softly. "I promised no big confessions tonight."
He gave a growl. "Don't give a bloody damn what you said before. Y'already said y'lied when you said you weren't, and y'already made one 'bout bein' scared I'd leave. I wanna know what I saw."
Beth regarded him as evenly as she could, panting softly. She could still taste him in her mouth, and it made her all the more reluctant to open up. "You already know."
"S'tell me," he pleaded softly.
Beth agonized briefly. She'd promised herself not to do this tonight, but Spike had seen something, heard something, and she knew that confessing it would either send him running or give him a reason to offer his trust. "I love you," spilled out before she could think any more about it.
Spike was completely still as her words washed over him. His grip on her arm didn't lessen, and it was a long moment before he could do anything. The first thing he did was slide a hand into her hair and pull her forward, kissing as deeply as he could. He didn't have to speak as long as he was kissing her, but he was surprised to taste salt and feel wetness on her cheeks.
Breaking the kiss, his hands moved to wipe the tears off her face. "Don't cry, love," he whispered, kissing the tracks away even as new ones tried to fall.
Beth's breath caught in her throat when Spike kissed her. She'd been overwhelmed by fear in the eternity before he'd moved, and his kiss was as much answer as she needed. "I can't help it, I'm sorry," she said, breathing in little hiccups. "I was afraid, you weren't saying anything and I didn't know what to think until you kissed me like that," she babbled.
"Don't be afraid. Told you before, I'm not gonna leave." He pulled her in closer to him, arms tightening around her. "Love you too, you know." It was a weight off his chest as soon as he said it.
"I know." Beth burrowed in until she was completely curled around Spike, touching him everywhere. "I know." Her head rested on Spike's shoulder, and her legs tangled with his. "I love you, too."
The End