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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok, so Buffy's veiw of the Sex Pistols is really my view. Leave me a review!!!
‘You should know that I love you
We should love like lovers do
And I can't help but fall for you
Ah honey I'm just a fool
Now you know
Lover, when will you?
I'm so afraid that no one cares
Lover, can't find you
I swear to God don't leave me here
Now you know’
‘Said Sadly’
Smashing Pumpkins

Gotta love room service. Six hours, one nap, one plate of hot wings, two packs of Marboros, four energy drinks and four mugs of blood later, we were almost done. We had covered practically everything. We sat cross-legged on the bed across from each other, knees touching. We had talked a lot. Of course, we had avoided discussing what all of this might mean for us. The prophecy, the council, most of the things that had happened since we had fled Sunnydale, we had covered all of that. He had taken it all in stride, even my impending immortality. Although he hadn’t said a lot, I could see the wheels turning in his head, but I knew better than to ask. He would tell me when he was ready. I was lost in that thought when he finally broached the subject I know he had been dying to ask me about since Angel’s office.

“So…. tell me about your tattoo.”

I chuckled. Smooth. “Well, it’s not just about you. I mean, it is, but in a lot of different ways. It’s a reminder. It’s to remind me that allies come from unexpected places, you should embrace love where you find it, people can surprise you, there is NOT a clear line between good and evil, some people will never really leave you, and that my mother was always right about men for me.”

He furrowed his brow. “Your mum?”
“Well, she never really liked Angel…but that’s not what I mean.”

He grinned at me. “The night before she went in for her surgery, she told me you had been coming to see her in the hospital.” He looked down at his hands sheepishly as I continued. “She said that you came to the house a lot when I wasn’t home, and that you went and helped her at the gallery all the time. She really liked you. And she thought that the fact that you never did these things while I was around only gave credence to her claim that, although a vampire, you were not a terrible guy.”

“She was a nice lady, your mum. I liked her. She treated me like a man.” His gaze finally returned to my eyes.

“She also said that she knew that if anything happened to her, you would take care of us. And she was right. You have. You were the reason…” I trailed off.

He cocked his head to the side. “Reason?”

“By the time we got to LAX, we all had places we decided to go. Xander went to Africa. I think he wanted to go somewhere away from all of us, be by himself. I think he just wants to find a normal girl and settle down. He doesn’t work for the Council or anything. He’s just there for himself. He sent me some bracelets from Morocco last week. Willow and Kennedy went to Brazil. They run a Wiccan/Slayer training thing down there. Faith and Robin went to Cleveland to guard a Hellmouth there. All their flights were before ours, so I watched my friends as they flew off to all the corners of the globe. Now, a year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do that. But I thought back to the night that they all kicked me out of the house, and the only person who came looking for me…was you.” I looked into his eyes. “You gave me so much strength that night. With your touch and your words. I’ve carried it with me every day since then. That’s what this tattoo is about.”

I got up from my spot on the bed and stretched. My back popped and I felt stiffer than I had been in a long time. Funny how sitting for a long period of time was almost akin to fighting on the body. I looked down at Spike’s thoughtful expression as he took in all that I had told him.

“We have a lot to talk about.” I began as he looked up at me. “About us. Where we go from here. If any of this” motioning to him and then to myself, “means…anything. If this changes anything, I mean. You have a commitment to the Powers that Be and that’s here, in L.A. I have a commitment to the new Council, and that’s in London. At some point, I will have to return there. But I don’t want to think about any of that right now. I just want to bask. But first…God, I need a shower.” I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Otherwise known as the ‘I’m not in the habit of pouring my heart out and now that I have twice in as many days, I’m retreating to the bathroom for some much needed me time’ thing.”

He smirked up at me and I turned to leave. A timid hand grabbed mine and I whirled to face the now standing vampire. He pulled me to him and kissed me breathlessly and then stepped back. The sudden loss of contact left me staggering. He smirked at me as I stumbled towards the bathroom. When I got to the door, I turned back to him. “I love you.”

His smirk softened into a smile. “You love me.” He sat back down on the bed. “Buffy loves me. Buffy Summers is in love with me. The Slayer in love with Spike. Buffy loves William.”

I giggled at him. “How many times and ways are you going to say it?”

“Just trying to wrap my lobes around it. You love me.”

I nodded. “Yes, I do. I love you. I have for a long time. I wish I would have said it before, but you’ll just have to settle for me saying it a whole lot now. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”



Vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
Swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
‘Vindicated’
Dashboard Confessional

I left the bathroom with my makeup freshly applied, hair freshly curled, and the hotel bathrobe snugly in place. I expected Spike to be waiting, or snacking, or watching T.V. Imagine my surprise when I found him curled up on the bed sleeping, clutching my pillow in his arms. I walked over to the side of the bed to study him. It felt like it had been so long since I’d seen him. I wanted to remember everything. As I looked down at him, he looked so much like a little boy, his stilled bandaged arms wrapped around my pillow like it was a lifeline. When I got close to him, I could hear him purring. It brought a smile to my face. He was the only person, human or otherwise, I had ever heard make a sound like that. It was the most precious thing I had ever heard in my life.

I was startled out of my reverie by my ringing cell phone. I grabbed it from the nightstand and dashed into the bathroom with a backward glance to the snoozing vampire on my bed. Still sleeping. I shut the door quietly and flipped open the phone. “Yeah?”

“Uh…. Buffy…it’s Fred.”

“Hi Fred,” I said brightly. I was really glad she called. Granted, she had interrupted the memorization of my lover, but I truly could see a friendship building with her. It would be nice to have a girl to talk about boys with again!

“How’s Spike doing?”

I smiled at her question. None of the Scoobies would have asked. They wouldn’t really have cared. “He can use his hands now. We talked a lot. He’s sleeping right now.”

Well, that works out because I was going to ask you if you’d like to…come to the firm…and…hang out in my lab with me?” she finished lamely.

I laughed out loud. “Of course, Fred! I’ll come hang with you. And if we happen to discuss ex-watcher/hottie demon research guy …don’t deny it, I know you were thinking it,” I said as she started to stammer, “worry not. I’d love to. I’ve gotta get dressed, but I’ll be there soon. Where’s your lab? Do I have to find it?”

Fred giggled at me. “Of course not! Do you think I would just leave you to get lost in the building? I’ll meet you in front of Angel’s office. When you get here, just tell his secretary to call me and tell me that you’re here, okay?”

I agreed and hung up the phone. I slipped back into the bedroom to grab some clothes. I selected some dark wash jeans; a ‘Guilty Pleasures Staff’ fitted tee and my blood-spattered boots. I retreated to the bathroom to dress. I didn’t want to wake Spike. He had been through so much, what with losing his hands, finding out about everything. He had taken so much in stride, but I was guessing he was exhausted.

It was so quiet in the bathroom; I reached outside the door and grabbed my headphones out of my suitcase. I plugged them into my phone and turned on the mp3 player. As Sid Vicious began his raspy rendition of ‘My Way’ I finished lacing up my boots. I stood up and looked in the mirror. I checked out the marks on my neck. Spike’s marks. The old scars weren’t even visible anymore. All I needed to do was have him bite over the one in my arm and I would be all set. I danced about the room tossing my hair and then I continued on dancing right out the bathroom door. I was stopped when I caught a striking pair of ice blue eyes staring at me. I ran my fingers through my hair to get it out of my face and pulled the earphones from my ears. As I turned off the music, I grinned sheepishly at him. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said quietly.

“S’okay, pet. I had thought the shirt was just for looks. I hade no soddin’ clue you actually listen to the Sex Pistols. Most people just get ‘Never Mind the Bollocks,’ but that’s ‘Flogging a Dead Horse,’ isn’t it?” Spike asked me, astonished.

“Yeah,” I nodded. I decided to impress. “I actually celebrate their entire collection at home. I had Dawn load them onto the mp3 player on my phone. You should have seen me dancin’ around on the plane. ‘Bollocks’ is my favorite album. A lot of people dismiss it as merely a series of loud, ragged mid-tempo rockers with a harsh, grating vocalist and not much melody and they are so wrong! The already anthemic songs are rendered positively transcendent by Johnny Rotten's rabid, foaming delivery. His bitterly sarcastic attacks on pretentious affectation and the very foundations of British society were all carried out in the most confrontational, impolite way possible. Most imitators of the Pistols' angry nihilism missed the point: Underneath the shock tactics and theatrical negativity were social critiques carefully designed for maximum impact. ‘Never Mind the Bollocks’ perfectly articulated the frustration, rage, and dissatisfaction of the British working class with the establishment, a spirit quick to translate itself to strictly rock and roll terms. The Pistols paved the way for countless other bands to make similarly rebellious statements, but arguably none were as daring or effective. It's easy to see how the band's roaring energy, overwhelmingly snotty attitude, and Rotten's furious ranting sparked a musical revolution, and those qualities haven't diminished one bit over time. ‘Never Mind the Bollocks’ is simply one of the greatest, most inspiring rock records of all time.”

Spike stared at me agape. He said nothing for at least a full minute. But when he did…“Who are you and what have you done with Buffy?”

I laughed out loud at him. “Had you going, didn’t I? Oz was arguing with a guy at the bar the other night about the Sex Pistols. I just remember a bunch of what he said. It was the most I had ever heard him say at one time. God, you should have seen your face.” I stopped my laughing and looked at him curiously. “You don’t think I’m smart enough to glean that from the album, though?”

“I just didn’t think you knew a lot about the bloody British working class and politics, pet. I don’t doubt your intelligence.” He stopped and looked at my clothes. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

“Fred called while you were sleeping. She wants me to come hang out with her a bit.” I handed him one of the two room keys. “Are you going to come find me when the sun sets, or do you want me to come back here?”

He smiled at me and stood up. Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, he kissed my cheek. “You really like her, don’t you, kitten?”

“Yeah, she seems so sweet. You like her too, right?” He nodded, so I continued. “Did you know she likes Wesley?”

He smirked and shook his head. “Science girl likes Percy. That’s rich. Guess you are the only bird who likes a British accent.”

I slapped his arm playfully. “Yep, it’s only the accent. That’s the whole reason I left LONDON and flew here. The accent.”

“Well, at least you’re honest!” he grinned at me. “I’ll get cleaned up and then meet you at Wolfram and Hart. I’m sure this hotel has sewer access.”

I grabbed a stake and stuck it in the waistband of my pants. “Okay, then. I’ll see you soon.” I walked to the door and turned around when I got there. “I really want these people as my friends. Could you just try to call them by their names?”

I left to Spike laughing so hysterically tears were streaming down his face.





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