The Three Kings, Part Two
Author: Elsa Frohman
Rating: PG.
Spoilers: Post NFA
Summary: This is my 2004 Christmas story. Spike, Gunn and Angel survived NFA and are back in the detective business.





Buffy decided Andrew was a test of her patience and resolve. If she could just keep herself from pulling his whiny little head off, she'd know she was in control of herself. At times during the journey north, it was a very close thing.

He complained about his inner ear when the plane took off and landed. He complained that he didn't have a warm enough jacket for England in December. He whined about the peanuts that were served in flight.

"You don't have a peanut allergy," Buffy said through clenched teeth. "I've seen you eat peanuts."

"I know, but if I did..." he said, his voice hitting exactly the nasal pitch that always made her fingernails dig into the palms of her hands.

Buffy reminded herself that having him along was better than leaving him behind. If she'd left him behind, she would have spent the entire trip wondering what sort of trouble he was getting into.

The airplane started its descent toward London Stanstead Airport, and Andrew started grimacing, trying to work his jaw to force his ears to pop.

"So, I suppose I'll be coming back by myself," Andrew said, altogether too casually.

"What do you mean by that?" Buffy snapped. "You're planning my demise?"

"No! No, I didn't mean... I just thought, after you catch up to the Immortal, the two of you will probably want to spend some time... I mean, I don't know."

"It's over," Buffy said, sinking a little deeper in her seat. "I'm not chasing after him. I'm here to make sure Drusilla never hurts anyone again."

"Maybe it's not," Andrew said hopefully. "I mean, after you've been intimate with someone..."

"What?"

"You and the Immortal..."

"Where do you get these ideas?" Buffy huffed. "We weren't... I mean, that's none of your business!"

"Oh, come on. I'm a man of the world. I've been staying at your apartment. You don't have to pretend. The Immortal isn't the kind of guy who waits around forever."

"Andrew, I swear you're not going to live long enough..." Buffy took a deep breath and got control of her temper. "We weren't ... we hadn't... as if it's any of your business."

"But you two were always cuddling," Andrew protested.

"That's all it was. That's probably why he's done with me," she said her voice going flat.

Andrew started to say something, but closed his mouth again after thinking better of it.

"I wasn't ready," Buffy said, looking out the window at the runway rising to meet the descending aircraft. "He said it was all right. He understood. I was still grieving. But he got tired of waiting."

"Grieving? You mean Spike?"

Buffy nodded curtly and looked away.

Andrew was silent as the plane's wheels bumped the pavement and the aircraft began to decelerate. He seemed to be considering what to say next -- a truly unusual activity for the boy, in Buffy's opinion.

He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, the seatbelt sign chimed and went out.

"You'd better get the bags out of the overhead bin," he said after opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish gasping for water. "I might strain myself."

-------------------------

For Gunn, the most irritating thing about arriving at Heathrow Airport after an eleven-hour flight from the West Coast of the United States was meeting up with his two vampire traveling companions, who were as fresh as proverbial daisies. Gunn wanted nothing more than to get a hotel room and sleep. He was eight time zones away from home, and his body clock was telling him it was time to curl up under a blanket and zone out.

He hadn't slept on the plane at all. The family with the hyperactive toddler sitting directly behind him in tourist class made certain of that. It was sort of amazing that a kid could keep kicking the back of his seat for that long.

The vampires, however, traveling as cargo, had slept pretty much the whole way. From Gunn's point of view, traveling in a sealed box was sounding better and better. Of course, the fact that they didn't have to breathe probably made the arrangement a bit more reasonable.

"OK, we catch a train north to Harrogate tonight," Angel said as he arched his back and stretched.

"Can't we get one now?" Spike asked, sounding impatient.

"It's morning," Angel said impatiently. "Trains have windows, lots of windows."

"We could get a compartment," Spike protested.

"You're in an awful hurry," Angel replied.

"I just want to get this over with."

"Doesn't matter. We can't be sure she'll be there until late tonight anyway."

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Gunn said, "but how do we get you two away from this airport?"

"We stay here until dark," Angel replied. "We'll just hang around the shopping halls. We've got to get the gifts anyway."

"Gifts," Gunn said flatly. "Now, here's where I think you're out of your mind. We should be making sure we've got nothing of the kind on us."

"She said we had to bring gifts for the baby," Spike said.

"I know. But why should we do what she wants? We're here to stop her."

"Because we don't know exactly what she's got in mind. We need to be prepared," Angel explained.

"You've got to understand about Dru," Spike added. "She's insane. She's just as likely to be telling us how to stop her, as telling us something that will help her. We need to be ready for anything."

"Gold, frankincense and myrrh," Angel said. "Somehow, I have a feeling that they aren't evil."

"Depends what you do with them," Gunn replied.

-----------

Buffy wanted to go shopping.

"But, you already did your Christmas shopping -- weeks ago," Andrew whimpered.

"I know. But since we're here, I want to get something for Giles."

"We're not going to see Rupert. He's in Bath for Christmas."

"Not today. But after I take care of Drusilla, we could drop in on him. I can't go empty handed."

"But it's too cold out!"

"Andrew, work with me. We'll be in the stores most of the time. You won't freeze to death."

"But it's snowing."

"Andrew..."

The look on her face changed his mind.

------------

Even though hanging around the Heathrow shops had been Angel's idea, he'd grown weary of it in short order. That left Spike and Gunn to do the shopping, while Angel hunkered down in one of the many lounges.

"We've already got the gold," Gunn said impatiently. Spike had stopped in front of a jewelry shop and was staring through the window at a gold locket with a delicate filigree cross on the front, on a fine braided chain.

"I know. I was just thinking..."

"It's really not you," Gunn said sarcastically.

"I was thinking that would be nice to send to..."

"Buffy?"

Spike nodded.

"You claim she doesn't know you're alive, but you're thinking about sending her a Christmas present?"

Spike shrugged.

"I think, if I'm ever going to let her know, I need to send her something first. You know, to soften her up. Whether she wants anything to do with me or not, she's going to be angry that I didn't let her know."

Gunn shook his head.

"I don't get why you didn't tell her. Angel was even willing to pay your way to go see her for a while there -- back when he had money. But you kept holding back."

Spike hung his head.

"I know. Doesn't make a bit of sense, does it? But it's like this: If I went, and she said, 'Oh, nice to see you. Have a nice unlife,' I'd ... I don't know what I'd do. As long as I keep putting it off, I don't have to accept that I'll never have her -- even though I have ... accepted it."

Gunn rolled his eyes.

"Sometimes I think I'll buy something nice, and I'll send it to her without letting her know who it's from. Then, the next day, I'll show up on her doorstep. And, when I imagine it, she takes one look at me and says, 'I knew it was you!' And I get a big hug; and everything's all right.

"But then I think about it again, and I know that it would be more like 'Where do you get off sending me lame gifts? Get out of my life!' and I decide against it. But now and then, I still see a bit of sparkly I think she'd like, and I can't help stopping and looking.

"Besides, where are we going to get frankincense and myrrh around here?" Spike added.

"The Body Shop and Works," Gunn replied.

"Huh?"

"Both are commonly used in commercial scents. Around this time of year, it shouldn't be any problem finding them as bath salts or scented candles."

"That part of all that knowledge you got from Wolfram & Hart?"

"Nah... my sister was into bath salts and candles. I always had to get her some for Christmas."

---------------

Snow was falling as Buffy and Andrew made their way down Charing Cross Road. The sidewalks were thick with last-minute shoppers. The atmosphere was hectic, but festive. Andrew trailed behind Buffy, carrying her packages. He'd protested that she was the stronger of the two of them, but Buffy explained that she needed her hands free, and the warning look she gave him settled the matter.

"Books are heavy," Andrew whined.

"Yes, they are," Buffy replied. "Think of it as the Rupert Giles Fitness Plan. Carry a load of books to develop your abs and pectorals. Ten reps setting them down and opening the cover. Then you carry them back to the shelf and put them away."

"Ha, ha, very funny. But I'm going to be sore after this."

Buffy started off again, forcing him to hustle to keep up. But then she stopped abruptly in front of a second-hand store nestled between two used bookshops. She was looking at a heavy, cast belt buckle in the shape of a galloping horse.

"That really doesn't look like the sort of thing Mr. Giles wears," Andrew said.

"I know," Buffy said wistfully.

"Then who?"

Buffy shrugged. "Nobody."

"Nobody?"

Buffy sighed.

"I was just thinking that Spike might..."

Andrew didn't say anything. He just gave her a questioning look.

"I know. He's gone. But sometimes, I see things and I can't help thinking, Spike would like that. Or Spike would just hate that. Or I think I'm going to open the door, and he's going to be standing in the hall with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish. He'll say something lame, like 'Sorry I didn't tell you I survived.' And I start getting mad, because of all the time he wasted by not letting me know he was back.

"Is that completely insane?" Buffy asked. "He's gone, and I miss him, and I keep getting mad at him because he's not here."

Andrew turned away. For some reason, he couldn't look at her. It was as if he was afraid she would read what he was thinking by looking at his face.