Chapter 1
Buffy put down her rejection letter from UCSD and turned around to find a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, waiting for her. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the two nearly-overflowing garbage bags. Garbage bags, she reminded herself, that would have gotten thrown away if I hadn’t spent a better part of the night trying to scrub grass-stains out of my new 70 dollar jacket.
Grass-stains, she then reminded herself, which would not have been there if it wasn’t for Spike. She picked up her rejection letter again. I probably would have gotten in if it wasn’t for Spike. Okay, she knew that sounded ridiculous, but the more she thought about it, the easier it was to blame any and everything on Spike. One thing is for sure, she thought, this garbage needs to go.
If she was thinking in logical terms, she would have brought the trash to the landfill. But Buffy was beyond logical at this point. She marched straight into Spike’s crypt, bags in hand. He was no where to be seen.
“Spike?” she called out. When she was met with silence, she tried again: “SPIKE!”
“What?” she heard the groggy response come from downstairs. Of course he’s sleeping. Not like he has a care in the world—no little sister, no rejection letters, no bills, no job, no dirty dishes and no garbage bags. She was determined to change that.
“Get up here” she called back.
“Why don’t you come down here, luv?” Incredible, she thought, he’s still able to make suggestive comments half-asleep.
“Spike, get up here now” and on second thought she added, “and put your clothes on.”
Surprisingly enough, he listened. After a few impatient moments, Spike emerged from his bedroom, wearing his standard black t-shirt and pants.
“Doing a little spring cleaning, are we?” he asked, motioning to her trash bags.
“Just dropping off what’s yours” she said before tossing them onto the floor of his crypt.
“You’re giving me your baggage? Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor, pet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy only seriously considered his question for a second, she then preceded to cross her arms and focus on what she was there to do.
“This is my trash—the trash that I couldn’t take out this morning back I feel asleep on the couch. Do you know why I was so exhausted, Spike?”
“Got a couple of guesses” he said as he tilted his head and grinned at her.
Buffy rolled her eyes in response, mentally kicking herself for setting herself up for yet another innuendo.
“I spent hours last night trying to get the grass stains off my new jacket—a souvenir from our little romp session on the lawn.”
“Did you just say ‘romp’?”
“Stop distracting me! It’s your fault I still have this trash and I refuse to keep it in my house as a constant reminder of my mistakes. So I’m leaving it here.”
“Well now that we have that out of the way…” he approached her slowly.
“Spike, don’t”
“Don’t what?”
“I can’t have sex with you” she said with determination.
“Buffy as much as I love this beating around the bush dance we do, it’s getting old” he slid his arms around her waste.
“Stop, we’re not doing this. Not anymore” she pushed his arms away and began walking towards the door.
“If you going walk away from me, I want to hear you say it. Say that you don’t want me” he dared her.
“I can’t” she said quietly as her hand rested on the door knob.
“What was that, pet?” he began walking towards her again.
Completely fed up, Buffy spun around and yelled:
“Damn it, Spike, you know I can’t say no to you!” her voice cracked with emotion as she found herself on the brink of tears.
The implication of her words Spike to stop dead in his tracks. You know I can’t say no to you. Her words hung in the air between vampire and slayer, leaving them both more than uncomfortable.
“Buffy…” he began, although he was at a loss words.
“I can’t do this anymore, it’s all too much. I can’t balance this double-life and home and work. I’m not cut out for this shit—for garbage day and dirty dishes and bagged lunches and flipping burgers and grease and…and rejection letters.”
“Buffy…” he tried again.
“I used to have friends—I feel like I don’t even know them anymore. I used to be a student; I had a steady boyfriend, a mom, a watcher. I had you”
“You always have me” he said automatically, more confused than ever.
“Not like I used to. We used to be friends. We used to talk and now…I miss you” she Spike looked down, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself and desperate not to let her words affect him.
“When did everything fall apart?” she whispered.
Spike was immediately brought back to that day when his whole world fell apart.
When the pain of seeing Buffy’s lifeless body before him brought him to his knees.
When the tears started and never seemed to end.
When he became convinced that the sobs that racked his body day and night would eventually turn him to dust.
When he prayed for her god to take him too.
“Spike?” she asked when a blank stare fell over his face.
“Yeah?” he asked, clearly his throat to get the hoarseness out.
“Can we pretend I never died? I know we can’t pretend forever, but can we, just for today go back to the way we were?”
“Whatever you want.”
“K” she offered a small smile.
“So, what now?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?” Spike was determined to give her anything she wanted at that moment. If his slayer wanted the bloody moon, he'd get her the bloody moon.
Buffy looked up and Spike felt his unneeded breath hitch when her eyes meet his.
“Mac and cheese?” she offered up meekly.
“Done.”
Tbc…
Author's Chapter Notes:
First fic I've written in quite some time. I've had the idea for a while, so here it is.