FEELING FRISKY
by perletwo
Spike awakened at 2:50 the next afternoon to the most God-awful caterwauling he'd ever heard.
This was appropriate, since it came from a cat. One who was seated heavily on his chest, batting at his face with her paws and howling the house down, a steady yowl rising and dropping in pitch like a tornado siren.
"All RI', you silly chit, I'm UP already! Geez! You an' Buffy, I swear..."
Remembering, he sat up and looked around. No sign of Buffy, who had fallen asleep in his arms the night before. He'd sat and watched her rest for signs of distress until the sunrise forced sleep upon him as well.
Now the crypt was empty except for himself and the little yearling Siamese who had leapt atop the television set and was still yowling, but at a lower volume. The two empty mugs had been washed and put aside to air-dry on his makeshift kitchen counter, and the mohair blanket had been laid carefully over him while he slept. Buffy had departed without a word or a note.
"F'r the record, Joyce, when y'r daughter's been in that predicament, she's taken t'throwin' candles at me. Don' go gettin' any ideas. Now why...oh."
He rose and turned on the TV, tuning it to the right station for "Passions" with only five minutes to spare. The cat sat and basked in the warmth of the electric current until the theme music started, then sprang down, leapt up on the couch and curled up in Spike's lap, purring loudly and kneading her front paws against his knees.
Spike let his head fall back and sighed contentedly. "Joyce, m'dear, you think you could teach that trick t'your daughter?..."
Joyce gave him a short growl as the commercial block ended and Tabitha's face filled the screen.
Near the end of the show, the crypt door opened slowly. The new arrival tried to keep the door as silent as possible, but Joyce's feline ears picked up the minute squeak of the hinges. "Mrowwr?"
The cat streaked away to the corner niche again. Spike looked up, reaching for a knife, then relaxed at the sight of Dawn standing on the threshold. "W'l I know you 'aven't been turned, luv, so there can't be a barrier there..."
"Buffy doesn't want me coming here anymore," Dawn said doubtfully.
"We're rebels, you'n me, Niblet. C'mon in. I'll cover for you if need be." She slipped in and shut the door behind her, and curled up beside him on the sofa.
"You watch Oprah?" She nodded at the screen.
"Huh? Naw, it's just what comes on after my stories, luv. I think there's a creature feature on channel 12, though." He rose and flipped the dial, and 'The House on Haunted Hill' came up on the screen.
"This...is really stupid," Dawn said after a few minutes of the old black-and-white movie.
Spike's hand flew to his chest. "Wot?! This is Hammer horror, platelet! Classic! 'Sides, you don' think they're gonna be showin' the really good stuff at 4 in the afternoon, do you?" She giggled.
"That's more like it," he said. "C'mon, settle in an' I'll get you somethin' to drink. Usual?"
"You've still got some Jolt around? After all this time?" She turned to watch him head into the kitchen.
"Sure. Add in a li'l raw sugar an' it's not 'alf bad." She laughed again and took the can from him, settling in against him to watch the movie.
"This is just corny," she pouted halfway through the next segment of the movie.
"This is Vincent Price, Dawn. The hero of many a horror actor since, y'know? Draw a straight line from this performance through every other horror villain to Geoffrey Rush in the cheesy remake the other year."
"Hey, I liked the remake," Dawn replied.
"The amusement park opening was dumb. What was that all about, anyway?" He took a hit of Jolt and grimaced. Booze didn't burn as much going down as this stuff did.
"Dunno. Don't care." She grinned. "The guy in the elevator was cute. What else matters?"
Spike sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward.
Despite his resolve to focus on Dawn, Spike found himself drawn into the old movie, and engrossed in explaining its subtleties to her, he missed her deepening funk.
Someone else did not.
Dawn was leaning over to set her Jolt can down on the sarcophagus when she felt a breeze at her back and realized something had...swiped...at her hair.
Thinking 'spider!', she spun around, swatting at the backc of her head. And found herself eyeball-to-eyeball with the softest blue-gray eyes she'd ever seen.
"Mrowr," Joyce said matter-of-factly, and extended a paw to swat at the thin braid running down the side of Dawn's face. She connected and the plait swung merrily from side to side, bringing a delighted coo from the Siamese in response.
Nonplussed, Dawn turned to Spike, mouth hanging open. He smirked. "Spike? *What* is that?"
"*That* is a cat, luv. See, four feet, swishy tail, twitchy whiskers - " A low rumbly growl from Joyce cut him off, and Dawn laughed."Dawn, meet Joy. Joy, this is Dawn. Also Niblet, Platelet, Bite-Size, Little Bit -" Dawn popped him on the bicep, fighting a case of the giggles. For good measure, Joyce added a swat of her own, and the giggles won out.
The door to the crypt crashed open, and Buffy strode in furiously. "Spike, I think Dawn's in trouble, she didn't make it home from school today and - oh!"
Entering the main seating area of the crypt, Buffy was confronted with a sight to behold: a laughing Dawn on the floor dangling a few scraps of fabric and fiberfill from a shredded pillow from a string before an overstimulated yearling kitten, reared up on its hind legs to grab and leap at the bait.
Spike was on the floor beside her, rolling a Jolt Cola can that sounded filled up with ball bearings at the cat every so often, making Dawn laugh at the kitten's indecision at which to attack first.
"Allo there luv. Just introducin' Little Bit to Joy 'ere." Spike rose gracefully to his feet, and Joyce pounced victoriously on the can, scrabbling to cling to it with all four paws. Dawn petted her coat while she struggled to keep the can from rolling out from under her.
"Buffy, please don't be mad, I used to do this all the time when you were dead -" Dawn started to her feet, and Joyce growled out a protest.
Buffy started to snap at Dawn, but the pleading look in her sister's eyes - and the silky feel of a kitten darting over to twine itself around her ankles - softened her at the last minute. "I know, Dawn, but we didn't have Social Services breathing down our necks when I was dead. Heaven knows why not, but they're here now. You've *got* to at least check in at home before you go off like this."
Dawn's eyes narrowed sneakily. "If I promise to check in, will you clear me to start visiting Spike again? You *know* I'm perfectly safe with him, Buffy..." Joyce chimed in with a pleading meow.
Cornered, Buffy glanced from vampire to sister to kitten to vampire again, who nodded once. "D'you *promise* you'll keep up with your homework? And if Spike says you're in the way of something, you'll come straight home, no detours?"
"She won't be, luv," Spike murmured, but Dawn rushed in over him.
"Yes! Yes! I *promise*! ThankyouthankyouthankyouBuffy!" Squealing, she hurried over to hug Buffy, nearly knocking her sister over in her enthusiasm.
"Thanks, Spike. I know this is probably a big imposition, but - "
"No imposition. You Summers women are damn' good company..." He and Joyce's eyes met, and he smiled.