CREATURE COMFORTS
by perletwo
"All ri' now, you!"
The warning rush of air from Spike's sudden move in her direction alerted his prey to his attack, and she darted gracefully away. He arrived at the spot she'd just been settled in on the couch just as her feet hit the ground across the room.
Picking up the evidence of her misdeeds, he shook the evidence in the face that was wearing its patented innocent 'who me?' expression. She answered with a high-pitched "H'mmmm?"
"Dammit, I know you've never liked this cushion, but that doesn't give you the right to shred it! Bollocks, what *is* it with you Summers women?"
He sighed and flopped back onto the couch, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling and ponder the futility of it all. "I *liked* this...'ad it for decades now..."
The lilac-point Siamese yearling crept along the floor around the table, belly low to the ground to avoid detection. She sprang up onto the arm of the couch and gingerly picked her way up the back until she could rub her silky flat muzzle along his jawline.
Spike hummed softly, and the cat answered with a rumbling purr. "Oh. Yeah. *That's* what it is with you Summers women." Sighing, he reached up to scritch between her ears. "Okay, Joyce, I'll get you a new pillow. I am such a pushover for you an' your daughters..."
Joyce settled down on the back of the couch by his shoulder and began washing her front paws smugly.
Spike padded to the kitchen to pour some fresh milk into the glazed-pottery bowl he'd cleaned up for his new houseguest. Just as he reached the refrigerator, the crypt door crashed open. His peripheral vision caught a tawny blur streaking away into the shadows as Buffy stalked in.
Glancing around, he caught sight of the cat hunkered down small in one of the statuary niches in the wall, in a corner that fell in deep shadow. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the Slayer.
"Cor, luv, you look wrung out to dry," he murmured, taking her in as he pushed the door shut behind her.
Her shoulders were slumped, her jaw was slightly slack and her eyes had taken on a thousand-mile stare. She tried to speak but couldn't seem to find her voice, and finally just raised her arms to him, like a toddler wanting to be picked up.
Spike obliged, hugging her close to him for a long moment, then lifting her up with one arm hooked under her knees and carrying her to the sofa. Settling her down gently, he knelt at her feet and levered himself over her for a deep, slow kiss.
Later Buffy wept, jagged sobs and hot tears of exhaustion that finally found release through their lovemaking.
When she flinched away from his awkward attempts to soothe her with soft words and gentle pats, Spike pulled away, put on his jeans and rummaged through a battered steamer trunk in one corner. Dragging out a soft mohair afghan, he spread it over her curled-up form and tucked her in tenderly, then went to the kitchen and rifled fitfully through the contents of the fridge.
As her sobs died down to ragged but steady breathing, the Siamese edged a stealthy path to the far end of the sofa. Eyes closed in an attempt to calm down, Buffy didn't notice the cat's silent leap onto the arm of the sofa, or detect its careful steps along the back until it reached her.
She didn't notice anything at all, in fact, until the cat made a light-footed landing right in the crook of her curled-up body. She startled, but the cat settled its weight firmly on the afghan, pinning it atop Buffy, and gave her a demure meow.
"Hello there," she said, a little wary.
The cat craned its neck forward, eyes reduced to slits, and touched noses with Buffy, who jumped at the cold contact. To her surprise, a long-forgotten sense of warmth started flowing through her a moment later, and she reached out a tentative hand to pet the cat's head, which weaved and arched to hold the caress when she tried to pull her hand back.
"Spike?" He turned around at the sound of her voice. "Who's this?"
"Oh. Oh, that's Joyc - JOY. That's Joy. Found 'er in the cemetery."
Buffy's hand was idly stroking Joyce's coat, he noticed, and a small gleam of light had come back into her eyes. "And she just decided to follow you home, I suppose." She sighed. "Spike, please tell me tonight's dinner isn't Joy a' l'orange?"
The sight of his smirk sent her defenses right back up. "Don't tell me! The mighty Slayer made a funny?!"
"Well, if you have to *ask*...C'mon, Spike. Reassure me here." A sharp "Rowr!" from Joyce let her know she had become distracted from her petting duties, and she hastened to make amends.
"She's not on the menu, luv." He shrugged and brought her a mug of steaming dark liquid. She and Joyce both sniffed; it was hot tea. "Gotta pay off my gamblin' debts somehow."
"You're going to-to force-breed her? Spike!" She tried to sit up, only to earn herself a reprimand and a sharp swat from the cat, who didn't like having her cozy nest dislodged.
Spike chuckled, fussing over a mug of his own. "Nah. She's a bleedin' cat, luv. I figure all I gotta do is not fix 'er and let 'er come an' go as she pleases, an' wait for nature to take its course."
Buffy cuddled in close to the cat, who arched up into the attention, whiskers twitching. "Don't worry, Joy. I'm not gonna let him hurt your kittens," she whispered, and the cat head-butted her, going into a frenzy of purring.
Spike took advantage of her lean into the cat's space to wedge himself onto the sofa behind her back. Unconsciously she scooted forward to make room for him, and he turned so that her back rested against his chest. One arm came around her and nudged her arm upward, urging her to drink her tea.
While she was sipping, Joyce climbed up onto her stomach and began kneading her front paws. Buffy closed her eyes under the gentle massage and leaned back, relaxing enough to allow Spike to embrace her. Joyce purred at the sight.
"So? C'mon, luv, don't keep me in suspense." He nudged the cup toward her lips again. "What's got you 'urtin' so bad today? D'I miss somethin'?"
"Nothing. I mean, just...everything. I can't do it, Spike, I'm just so *tired,* I can't remember the last time I was able to sleep..." He nuzzled at her temple, and the cat cooed sympathetically.
"All you gotta do is say the word an' I'll take a patrol for you, luv, let you sleep." She shook her head.
"No, no, you don't understand...I sleep, I try to - but the *dreams* - "
"The coffin again?" She nodded.
"And Glory. And Dawn being eaten by that fledgling at Halloween, or the demon Willow brought forth." She cuddled closer, sighed. "And then let's not forget, there's also the frustration dreams. Trying to get to work and it gets farther and farther away. Trying to get something simple done at work, and it's just impossible. Or - ever reliable - I'm working the counter and all the customers are vampires, and they're ordering my coworkers."
Despite himself Spike snickered. "I know, it sounds stupid when I say it like that, but it's really awful when I'm in it." Joyce crept forward and batted lightly at the hand holding the mug of tea. Distracted, Buffy sipped again.
"I've had that happen before, y'know. The two parts of my life, the daytime normal-girl stuff and the nighttime Slayer stuff, collided. You were there the first time in fact, when Angelus was raising Acathla." She stared into her mug. "It's not fun."
Joyce moved forward up onto Buffy's chest, and licked gently at the tracks of her tears, purring comfortingly. Spike reached up around Buffy to skritch between the cat's ears, and Buffy hummed delightedly.
"Sweetheart?" She looked up into his eyes at the change in his tone of voice. "When you're 'ere, with me 'oldin' you like this...you sleep then, don't you? I've seen it." She nodded. "No dreams then?" She shook her head, sniffled. Joyce cuddled in under her chin.
"Then why not com'ere?" Buffy bridled in his arms.
"Because, as I told you, I'm using you. And I can't live with myself for doing it. I have a hard enough time living with myself as it is."
"Not askin' you to do the nasty wi' me, am I? You could com'ere an' nap when you needed to. I'd be glad t'old you like this, no pressure, anytime you needed t'sleep." He nudged her elbow, and she drank down the last of the now-lukewarm tea. "I bet Joyc-*Joy*'d be glad t'elp wi'extra snuggles, too..." he wheedled, and the cat miaowed enthusiastically.
Buffy sighed and leaned back again. "Well...I guess...I *do* have to check up and make sure you're treating Joy right...a nap every now and then wouldn't hurt *too* much..."
Spike and Joyce exchanged matching glances full of mischief, both pairs of blue eyes shining. They were going to take care of their girls even if they had to drag them to it kicking and screaming.
Eyes closed as she snuggled down with cat and vampire, Buffy didn't notice.