The Things He Did For Love
Hank summers stood in the doorway to the kitchen, wineglass in hand, looking from person to
person in confusion. Buffy gave Spike a pained glance, then looked to her father. "Dad, um, I-I'd like you to meet my-my fiancÚ, William Suffolk," she said nervously, wringing her hands.
"Spike, this is my Dad, Hank."
"It's good to meet you, sir," Spike said from where he was standing. He gave Hank a wry smile.
"I would shake hands, however, I'd be afraid you'd die from the stench. Billy and I were..." He
wracked his brain for an excuse, but Billy preempted him.
"My Mom threw out my knife," Billy spoke up. He pulled an old blade from his coat pocket and
set it on the island counter in front of him. He shot Spike a grin. "I didn't want to lose it because
it's a reminder that my life doesn't suck as bad as some dudes."
Spike blinked in surprise when he saw the knife. It was one of his when he was still mortal and
living in the alley in London. The vampire figured Billy must have picked it up when they were
sitting under Spike's old make-shift home.
"Yes, well...," Hank trailed off, confusion still evident on his face. He looked from Spike to Angel
and back to Spike again. "Did you just say that Angel was your father?"
"Er..." Spike glanced at his sire. "I said like a father, Mr. Summers. Angelus practically raised me
after my own father died." Of course, Spike had been the one to kill his natural father, but there
was no reason to go into that tale.
"Aren't you a little young to have raised...Spike, is it?" Hank asked Angel.
"I'm much older than I look, Hank," Angel replied. Billy snickered and the dark-haired vampire
shot him a puzzled look. The teen smiled innocently.
Joyce decided to step in before more questions could be asked by her ex-husband. "Why don't
we let the boys get cleaned up? I'm afraid my linoleum is going to peel if they don't," she said.
She turned to Angel. "Angel, will you...?"
Angel nodded to the silently asked request. He moved to Buffy and placed his hand on her lower
back, lightly propelling her back towards the dining room. By this action, Hank had no choice
but to reenter the dining room as well.
"Billy, do you think you should call your Mom?" Joyce asked.
"Man, she is going to be one pissed off old woman," Billy said, shaking his head no. "I think I'll
"Ring your Mum, Billy," Spike said, his tone brooking no argument. Billy groaned unhappily
and slid off the stool, heading for the phone on the wall. Spike gave Joyce an exasperated smile.
"Are you two alright?" Joyce said with motherly concern.
"Yes," Spike answered honestly. He wrinkled his nose. "Except for the fact that the smell might
"Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower," Joyce suggested. "I'll ask Rupert and Willow
to take Billy home."
Spike nodded, then looked at Billy when the teen hung up the phone. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Billy replied sullenly. "I'm suppose to go right home."
Spike's lips curled up in a smile at the dark-haired boy's typical teenage response. "Don't worry,
mate. If you have any problems with your Mum, just give me a bell."
Billy nodded and picked up the knife, putting it back into his pocket. Joyce had left the room to
speak with Giles, leaving the two alone. "Hey Spike?" Billy said, meeting Spike's eyes squarely.
"I won't forget, man."
"Neither will I, Billy," Spike said. He had learned more about himself during their not-so-excellent adventure than he'd learned over two centuries of living. And he'd never felt so
grateful about the man he was now -- even though he was a whipped nancyboy who was in love
with the Slayer and had a souled poofball for a sire. "Neither will I."
Spike gave a wry grin to the smiley-face he'd drawn with his finger in the steamed-up mirror
where his reflection would normally be if he was still human, then ran his fingers through his
damp hair to comb it back. It was probably going to curl wildly because it was longer than usual
and he had nothing with which to slick it back.
He no longer stank, thankfully, and was dressed in a pair of jeans and black tee-shirt from the
stash of clothing he kept at Buffy's house in case of post-slaying emergencies. He didn't help her
with her normal patrol, not wanting to turn too much into Angel, but he readily assisted her
against other demons and Hellmouth creatures of the non-vampire variety. He liked his wife-to-be as she was -- walking, talking and shagging him into utter ecstacy every night.
With a final glance at the smiley-face, Spike left the bathroom and headed downstairs. His eyes
immediately sought and found his Slayer sitting in the living room, and he smiled at her. The
smile he received in return made him want to pick her up, take her somewhere private and make
love at her all night long. However, he doubted her father would approve of him doing that right
"Sorry to keep you," he apologized. He noted that everyone save immediate family had gone.
"That's okay, Spike," Joyce said, rising to her feet. "I'll just go heat everything up in the
"I'll help you, Joyce," Angel volunteered, having risen when she stood. As he passed his childe
as he followed Joyce, he whispered, "Brother, boarding school in London until you came to
Spike nodded imperceptively and continued to cross the room to seat himself on the couch
beside Buffy. He automatically took her hand, entwining their fingers, her simple engagement
ring pressing lightly against his skin.
"We were just talking about how Angel let you go to boarding school in London from junior
high until graduating from high school," Buffy said, trying to give him his made-up history as
naturally as possible. "Which is why you have an accent and he doesn't. Plus, the fifteen year
age difference between you guys, which was why he didn't live with you until after your parents
died. And is why you think of him like your father-"
"Buffy, I think he knows all that," Hank interrupted. He gave the couple a smile, then focused on
Spike. "Tell me, how did you get the nickname 'Spike?'"
"I spiked the punch on a dare at an important function when I was at the boarding school," Spike
lied smoothly, incorporating the new made-up history with what he had invented before in
preparation for this meeting. "'Course I got in quite a bit of trouble for that little stunt..."
"Angel did say that you were the rebellious sort," Hank said.
"And I'll admit to that up until I met Buffy," Spike said. He tried to keep the disgusted
expression from his face after his stomach rolled for saying something so utterly and horribly
sappy. Buffy, however, gave him a look that said 'who are you and what have you done to my
"I'm just going to come right out and say it," Hank said, leaning forward slightly in his chair.
"Don't you two think you're a little young to be getting married? Buffy, you haven't even
finished school yet. You have at least a few more years if you want to get your Ph.D. in
Psychology like you said you wanted to."
"I'll still be going to school after we're married," Buffy said.
"And how are you going to afford it?" Hank asked bluntly.
"I'll be paying for her education, sir," Spike replied. Hank arched his brow skeptically. "I'm
'independently wealthy' or whatever the current term is for having a shi-," Buffy squeezed his
hand tightly, "-lots of money."
"What if Buffy gets pregnant?" Hank said.
"Dad!" Buffy exclaimed, turning red.
"That's not an issue, Mr. Summers," Spike answered in a normal tone. He knew he was going to
be subject to all sorts of questions from a concerned father who's daughter was going to be
getting married to a man he'd never met in just over half a year. "I can't father children."
Hank had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Oh. I'm sorry."
Spike shrugged. "That's okay. The Sla-er, Buffy and I decided if we ever do want to have
children, we'll adopt." Well, they never really talked about it, but he figured that's what the
choice would be. Unless she went down to the sperm bank and bought herself a pop-cicle.
"So, uh..." Hank cleared his throat. "What are you going to do once you get out of college?"
"I'm going to concentrate on making you're daughter happy," he answered. He was going to be
sick. The things he did for love.
"Dinner's on the table," Joyce said, having come into the doorway to the living room.
"Thank god," Buffy muttered, releasing Spike's hand and rising to her feet.
"Echo that," Spike said, standing as well.
She glanced up at him and grimaced. "Wipe that Jack Nicholson smile off your face, will you?"
she said quietly. "You're giving me the creeps."
Spike chuckled softly and followed her into the dining room. He pulled out her chair for her,
then sat down beside her after she sat. Angel sat across from him with Joyce beside him and
across from Buffy. Hank sat at the head of the table between the two females.
The reheated, late dinner got underway and conversation was kept light. Joyce talked about her
gallery and the new exhibit that was going up the following week on Early American Artists.
Buffy easily contributed to the conversation while Spike was merely a spectator. The blond
vampire could have cared less about artists, so he kept stuffing his face with food he didn't need
to eat until the tide of conversation turned to the wedding.
"The invitations are going out next month," Buffy said, her eyes twinkling with humor when she
glanced at her betrothed. "They're really nice."
One side of Spike's mouth curled up. "That they are, ducks."
"How many people are you inviting?" Hank asked.
"Not too many," Buffy replied. "Family and some friends. Mom and I made a list up last week.
I think there were like thirty?"
"That sounds about right," Joyce agreed. She smiled at Hank. "That means less cost for us."
"The wedding and reception are going to be at the Country Club, thanks to Cordelia," Buffy said.
"I hadn't realized that the place would be booked for years in advance for June weddings, so we
got really lucky."
Spike leaned over to whisper, "I'd have been happy to marry you at the Blue Suede Pews."
Buffy looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You are one bizarre man."
"We've made arrangements for the DJ," Joyce said, continuing the conversation. "The menu is
picked," she turned to Angel and smiled with amusement, "no garlic -- and we decided on a
cash bar to keep down on the number of people getting intoxicated."
"And Xander's going to be the videographer," Buffy added. "Just to get him to stop asking."
The phone rang and Buffy exchanged a quick look with her Mom. "I'll get it," the Slayer said,
rising and leaving the dining room.
"Have you two picked out where you're going to honeymoon yet?" Joyce asked Spike. "Buffy's
mentioned several places but never told me if you guys decided."
"It depends on if we go to France for that art seminar class over winter break," Spike replied.
"She has an appointment next week with the instructor to see if she can get into the class. Then
we have to arrange it with the Watcher to be gone for three weeks." He looked across the table at
Angel. "Think if we were to go, you could keep the local population," he glanced at Hank and
finished his question, "happy?"
"I could," Angel said.
"Guys we have to go," Buffy said quickly when she came back into the room. She met Spike's
Spike wiped off his mouth and stood. "Right."
"Where are you going?" Hank asked.
Buffy's eyes widened slightly, panicked. "Um...Willow! She's been in an accident. We're going
to the hospital. Spike's driving because I don't have a licence and she's our friend."
"My car's not here, pet," Spike told her.
"I'll drive," Angel said, standing as well. He put his hand on Joyce's shoulder and squeezed
lightly. "Our apologies, Joyce, for cutting this short."
"That's okay. Hank and I can entertain ourselves," Joyce said, knowing the real reason they were
leaving. She looked worriedly at Buffy. "Just call me and let me know everything's alright."
"Will do, Mom," Buffy said. She kissed her father's cheek. "Bye, Dad."
"Mr. Summers, it's been a pleasure," Spike said with a polite nod of his head. He followed Buffy
out of the room, with Angel trailing behind them.
"Do you think we should go, too?" Hank asked Joyce after they had left.
"No," Joyce replied. "We'll just be in the way. Come on, you can help me clear the table."
"Nagaranth," Giles said, a faint blush covering his cheeks as he read the information in the book.
Buffy, Spike, Angel and the rest of the Scooby Gang were gathered at the high school library,
listening to what the Watcher had to say about the new demon in town. Books were scattered
about the table, indicating that Xander, Cordelia, Willow and Giles had researched the threat
before calling the Slayer.
"Are you sure?" Angel asked.
"Why don't I like how you said that?" Xander commented to Angel.
"Y-Yes, I am certain," Giles said. He pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat. "There is
enough information to-to-to pinpoint that it is this particular demon."
"Well, just tell me how to kill it so we can get back to my father," Buffy said.
"You must stab it in it's third eye," Giles said.
"Sounds easy enough for our Slay-gal," Xander said.
"It's not," Willow said, her face turning the color of her hair. "The third eye only opens
"When the Nagaranth orgasms," Angel finished bluntly. "Rupert, we need to kill this demon and
quickly. Normal humans won't survive an encounter with him."
"I'm not a normal human," Buffy pointed out.
"Buffy, you have to make the Nagaranth orgasm before you can kill it," Angel said to her.
"She'd have to have sex with a demon?" Cordelia said. She looked between Spike and Angel.
"Wait, never mind. She should be used to it by now."
Spike took the book from Giles and read the information on the Nagaranth. "Slayer, I'm not
letting this thing get near you," he growled when he was finished.
"I have to kill it. It's my job," Buffy said.
"I'll do it," Angel said.
"But I thought you said Nagaranth was a him," Cordelia said.
"He is," Giles said.
"Okay, that's a picture I did not want to imagine," Xander said.
"Angel, what about your soul?" Buffy asked.
Angel gave her a dry smile. "I don't think that's a worry in this instance."
"Forget it," Spike said to his sire. "I am not going to let you hurt Buffy again."
"Do you seriously think my bending over for Nagaranth is going to give me a moment of true
happiness?" Angel asked incredulously.
"It only takes a single moment," Spike replied. "You could take your mind off getting buggered
by thinking about someone else doing the buggerin'..."
"Spike is right," Giles said. "It is too risky to take that sort of chance with your soul."
"So it's back to me again," Buffy said.
"No," Spike said firmly. "I'll do it."
"Spike, I don't-" Buffy started to say. He cut her off with a sharp glare and a growl. "Okay,
okay. You'll do it."
"Right," Spike said. He handed Giles back the book. "Keep everyone inside until I kill this git."
He walked over to Buffy, grabbed her and smashed his lips down on hers in a hard kiss. Then he
abruptly released her and left the library without looking back, his duster billowing slightly
"Ah, sweets," Spike murmured as he lay beside his Slayer later that night. He winced at the soreness of his behind and wished vampiric healing worked a little bit faster.
"The things I go through because of you."