William
Dawn and Willow watched from the table as Spike clenched his jaw. Anya stood behind the counter, getting the days paperwork in order for closing.
In all honesty, Spike hadn’t said a thing about how he felt about Buffy. Not to her anyway. She’s been in ‘Slayer Mode’ which didn’t really inspire moments of heartfelt confessions. Both ladies at the table could see from the look on his face, that his love for Buffy was still
as strong as ever.
Buffy stood in front of Jason, still unsure what to say. Spike hadn’t said a thing to her about his feelings. What was worse was the fact that his humanity was screaming at her. The shield of his demon stripped away had not only changed how he looked but how she was seeing him. The biggest of excuses why anything involving them as anything intimate would be dangerous and wrong was no longer available.
So she waited. Waited for Spike to say something. The old Spike would have walked right up to Jason and made some backhanded comment, but he stayed in place quietly. Not even some underhanded distasteful cut was made towards the detective..
Jason’s smile was beginning to fade when he noted the amount of thought Buffy was putting into a simple yes or no answer, his eyes swiftly glanced at the unfamiliar man in the room.
When Spike didn’t move, or make a sound, Buffy was shocked. She was also angry. She plastered her, well practiced Doublemeat smile on. “Sure. I’d love to.”
Willow’s jaw dropped, followed by Dawn’s. Anya rolled her eyes, then walked to the front door, and flipped the Open sign over to Closed.
Spike grumbled under his breath. “Bloody well should ‘ave known. Not even bein’ human would change things.” He placed a few more stakes in his jacket’s hiding places. He was now definitely in the mood to damage some baddies.
Jason looked back to see the flipped sign. “I better get out of here, but I’ll pick you up. Around seven?” Jason was smiling again, as he walked to the door.
“Sounds good. Just come here.” Buffy said still grinning but the apparently happiness never reached her eyes..
“Tomorrow night then?”
Buffy nodded, and Anya locked the door after he walked out.
When Buffy turned and walked back to the table, she saw that Spike was adjusting a few of his stakes. He didn’t look at her, almost as though she wasn’t that important anymore.
She sighed, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Dawn and Willow just stared at her accusingly, but Buffy shrugged it off. If Spike had a problem, he would have said something by now. “You ready?” She asked him.
Spike looked up at her. There were definitely times when having a soul didn’t help. This was one of them in his opinion. His insides felt like they were being torn in half. A year ago he would have been more angry than hurt, but now. Now it hurt as if a hand had reached in his chest and decided squeezing his insides was the order of the day. His mind quickly recalled the torture under Glory’s hand.
Right now that seemed like a walk in the park compared to his straining and tangled emotions.
“Oh God.” Willow nearly cried when his thoughts reached her.
He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t be here with any of them. Instead he turned and headed out the back door.
“What just happened?” Buffy stared at the empty exit.
“Are you stupid?” Dawn asked exasperated.
Buffy‘s eyes were wide in shock at her sister. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Are you stupid?” Willow repeated Dawn’s question.
Anya raised her hand, now stuffed with cash, from behind the register as she counted out the days receipts. “I vote yes.”
Buffy whipped around to face the demon. “What?!”
“Buffy,” Dawn started. Her older sister turned back to face her. “Spike’s still in love with you, and you just made a date right in front of him.”
“No, he’s not.” Buffy shook her head and looked back at her sister. “If Spike was still- if he-, he would have said something.” She pointed out.
Anya came over to Buffy. “Spike the Vampire would have. William: a.k.a. Spike, apparently doesn’t go off half cocked.” Her face melted into sincerity.
“Buffy, you need to tell him.” Willow spoke softly.
Buffy looked at the door the former Vampire had just walked out of. Without a word, she took off after him.
~~`~~
Scotch. The universal friend of misery, was sitting on the bar in front of Xander. Willy’s was slow tonight, but he was not alone. The demon’s in the bar recognized him, but left him be. Here in Willy’s, getting drunk was an equal right, regardless of race, sex, creed or a regular diet of human fingers.
“Another?” The bartender asked.
“Make that five 'anothers', and you’ll have a friend for life.” Xander set down another twenty on the bar, and a bottle was placed in front of him.
“Have at it.” The barkeep turned his back and walked to another customer.
Xander was on his third shot when a familiar demon sat on the seat next to him. Xander glanced over. “Oh. Hi Clem.”
Clem waved his fleshy hand. “Hiya.” He got the bartender’s attention, and was soon drinking down a colorful drink with a small umbrella.
“I take it you saw Spike?” The demon asked.
Xander looked over at him. “How’d you guess?”
His oversized flannel shirt wrinkled over his shoulders as he shrugged. “You and he never did get along too well. Figured nothing could be as bad for you than the guy who slept with your ex coming back to town.”
Xander wavered in his seat. “It’s not that.” He took another shot and became pensive for the length of time it took him to swallow the burning liquor. “Ok well it’s partly that.” He turned in his seat to face the strange, although unofficial friend of the Scoobs.
“It’s just that, every time a Vampire comes back all having-of the-soul we’re supposed to act like he never did anything wrong.”
“Every time? I thought it was twice?” Clem sipped on his drink.
“Well it was, but still. It’s Spike.”
“But it’s not. Not anymore. No more demon, not even one held back by a soul.”
Xander poured another shot. “No! He’s a Slayer!” He threw his head back and gulped the shot. “Spike! For God’s sake, are the fates crazy?”
Clem couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you think they were crazy for choosing Buffy?”
“No. But then there’s Faith.” Xander played with the empty shot glass with his hands. “She’s the worst version of a Slayer.”
Clem had heard a few stories about Faith from Dawn. She had sounded like a nut in his opinion. “True, but Spike went through the trials himself. He wasn’t born from a line, he had to fight for it.”
Xander emptied the bottle into his shot glass. He raised it. “Here’s to Sunnydale. Where Vampires become Slayers, and Slayer fall in love with Vampires.”
Clem watched him down the drink. “Did you ever here about the first Slayer.”
“Better than that. I met her in a dream.”
Clem looked at him strangely.
“It’s a thing. Don’t ask.” Xander placed the shot glass upside down on the bar.
The demon nodded. “But do you know how the first Slayer was born?” Xander shook his head no, and Clem began to tell him the story of the first Slayer, the same story Spike had told him just days ago.
~~`~~
“Stupid Buffy. Stupid Buffy. Stupid Buffy.” She repeated the phrase out loud, getting stares from the people who passed her on the sidewalk. She had been looking for Spike who was supposedly patrolling, and managed to dust an errant Vamp during her search. Unfortunately there was no sign of the bleached former vampire.
Out of desperation, she decided to try his crypt, but it had been empty. There was only one other place she hadn’t looked. She walked through town to his apartment building, and entered.
~~`~~
He had a good plan. An extremely good plan in fact. Brilliant really, if you must know.
Spike sat on his maroon loveseat, his legs hung over on arm while his head rested on the other. He’d only gotten back thirty minutes ago, plenty of time to drink half a bottle of Jim Beam, if one was determined..
There had been some fun. A few vampires dusted, a couple saved from a bulky green moss monstrosity he didn’t recognize. Once again allowing the couple to continue the debauchery taking place in the backseat of the boy’s coup.
He’d even popped by The Bronze to make sure the kiddies out for a romp were bloodsucker free and found one 80’s reject who’d never gotten the memo about net shirts being sadly out of style for anyone not cross-dressing or in a gym.
So he’d worked out a few of his issues, but not nearly enough to stop the ache inside. So there had been one final stop before packing it in for the night. Bob’s Drinks and Stuffs. It’s funny really, he always wondered what the ‘Stuffs’ were supposed to be but never remembered to ask until he was out of the shop.
Only problem with a human body is it’s lack of tolerance for alcohol. Something he hadn’t touched since he‘d returned from Africa.
Apparently there was a slight difference when one was a vampire as to exactly what amount one can take in before one’s eyeballs could no longer process one’s surroundings.
Still, it warmed his insides in a way that he remembered, and it made his head dizzy just as it always had. Unfortunately the room was doing a dance that he couldn’t keep the beat to. It waved and wondered as he watched the walls as if in a dream sequence. All in all, very interesting. Hypnotizing in fact. That is if the walls would stop thumping off beat.
The exuberant ‘Thump- Thump- Thump’ is what started bringing him back to reality, and realized it wasn’t the walls that couldn‘t find a decent rhythm to the waving. It was the door. Moronic door.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, and patiently waited for the floor to hold still.
Then the pounding came again. “Spike! Are you in there?”
He heard the door handle jiggle, but he’d locked it, just to be sure that wench couldn’t come in and stomp on his strangely beating heart again. He was after all, great at planning. Luckily this plan didn’t require patience, just a working lock.
“Spike!?” She called him again.
He stood himself up using the arm of the chair for balance. “Go-er-way!” He wobbled on his feet. ‘It sure is hard to talk and stand.’
“Spike?” She wasn’t yelling now. “Please. Let me in.” She hoped her plea would motivate him.
Buffy stood outside the door listening as random banging came from behind the door.
“Slaaayyer! Go! Away!”
Then came an even louder bang, then silence.
“Spike?!” She called again, but there was no sound. She was just about to kick the door in, when she heard the lock being undone. The door opened slowly to reveal a very wobbly Spike.
She sized him up. His face was red, he had at some point been crying, and his eyes were red and glassy. She shook her head at him. “What is it will depression and booze?”
“Boobs?” Spike‘s attention was drawn to her chest..
“Oh brother.” She rolled her eyes.
“Hah!” Suddenly he zeroed in on her face and pointed. “No. Sisser.”
“What?”
“You don’ hab a brover. Nobe. You hab a sisser.” Spike was quite proud of his drunkin’ observation.
“Come on, let’s get you laying down.” She took one arm and wrapped it around her shoulder.
“I was layin’ don.” He argued. The stench of the alcohol invaded her senses.
“God Spike, how much did you drink?” She walked him through the apartment to his bedroom, and laid him down on top of the gray comforter.
“’Bout this much.” He held his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart.
“I’m willing to bet it was more.” She attempted to take off his black sneakers, but he was struggling against her.
“Maybe.” He grinned up at her, then tried to sit up. It was the walls though. They kept spinning. “Bugger off!!”
“I will not. You got yourself stinking drunk, and in how much time, an hour?”
“Lesh.” He said, once again very proud of himself.
“Spike, you have to get up in the morning. You can’t do this shit.” She finally freed one foot. “What am I supposed to tell Dawn?”
That registered with his wondering mind. He began to weep. “Poor Dawwwnnyy.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Oh jeez, Spike. You‘ve lost it.”
“Willaamm.” Spike slurred.
“What?”
“M’names’s Willaaammm.”
She shook her head. She’d only called him William once, to break off whatever it was they had last year. “Fine, You can’t do this, William.”
He smiled. “Like it when ya call me Willaamm.”
With that, he fell back hitting the pillows hard and passed out..
Buffy finished getting his shoes off, followed by his socks. She decided to stop there, not sure she wanted to deal with a half naked Spike. She found a spare blanket in the closet, and covered him up.
She watched him for a few minutes. Just long enough to see that he was indeed passed out and snoring lightly. He looked rather ridiculous, she thought. Spread eagle, arms wide and his mouth gaping open. It was a very ’un-Spike’ way for him to be sleeping. He always seemed to be curled up around himself before this whole crazy change happened.
It was just one more thing to mark up in the list she’d begun in her head. That list that that had once been called ’Why Spike is Not the Vampire for Me’ and today had been revised to the title of ’Why Spike is A-Okay’.
Unfortunately sitting right next to the A-Okay list was ’Things Buffy Royally Screwed Up’. This list had subsections and outlines including the Angel section, the Riley section and even a short Scott Hope section right above the Parker section. The Mom and Dawn section and Friends sections were always the easiest to face because no matter what she did there, they were all family. Right now though, the Spike section was building and building and she wasn’t sure if it would ever stop growing.
She’d handled today badly, and in several different ways. That much she could admit to herself. She could even handle why. She’d been blindsided. Who’d have ever been prepared for the shock of an old flame showing up like that? Out of the blue and a completely different person. Oh and by the way, quite literally a VERY different person.
Her shoulders sagged as she turned from the resting man. Buffy was going to have to take a different approach. Radically skew her perceptions and try for a fresh start in the morning. Especially if there was any chance of Spike ever believing how much she had changed over the last months. More importantly, how much her heart had changed in his absence.
With that in mind, she grabbed another one of the closet’s blankets and curled up on the plush couch. As sleep took her, her mind played over what she could do to make it up to him. It wouldn’t settle all the hurts on either side but the least she could do was hand him an olive branch. And by the way, do olives really grow on branches? What kind have that funny red stuff inside again?
~~`~~
Buffy woke as the sun rise lit up Spike’s apartment. With a quick stretch, she remembered where she was, and why she’d stayed. It took a little while looking around his kitchen, but before Spike’s alarm went off, she had toast and coffee ready.
She checked the clock, then picked up the phone to call home. A few moments later Dawn answered.
“Hello?” The teen’s sleepy voice answered.
“Dawn. It’s Buffy.”
“Hey Buffy.” There was a pause while a yawn sounded. “Big nasties keep you out all night?”
Buffy looked over her shoulder when Spike’s alarm went off. “No. Just one former ‘nastie‘.”
Buffy had too pull the phone from her ear when her sister squealed, apparently now very awake.
“Don’t get too excited, and don’t tell anyone, but he was out of it, and I needed to stay.” Buffy quickly explained.
“Oh. Out of it? He got drunk? Doesn’t he know what a school night is?” Dawn complained.
“Dawn. Just do me a favor and get yourself to school… on time. With a little luck I’ll get Spike there.”
“You got it Buffy.”
“Good. See you at the shop after?”
“See you there. Bye.” And she hung up.
Buffy cradled the receiver, and headed into Spike’s bedroom holding a cup, and a small plate.
“Morning.” She sang a bright wide smile on her face, more from amusement than anything else.
Spike figured he just hadn’t woken up yet. It was ‘dream that won’t ever happen #124.
“Time to get up and go to work, William.” The blonde fantasy called to him.
Now he knew he was asleep. He rolled over to enjoy the false life that he had dreamt of more and more often through the summer.
Buffy set what would have to pass for breakfast on a hangover, next to him on the nightstand. She walked around to the other side of the room, and threw open the heavy curtains that blocked out the early morning.
Spike shot up, trying to figure out when his fantasy started acting so cruelly. She was usually much more understanding when he was suffering from a night of inebriation.
“Bloody Hell Woman!!” And to his surprise, it wasn’t a dream. Buffy stood smirking in front of the window.
“Well I warned you.”
Spike looked around the bedroom, just to be sure he was in the right place. Then he stared at Buffy. “Why are you here?”
Buffy walked back around the bed to the food on the nightstand. “Cuz you were drunk as a skunk last night. Someone had to make sure you’d get up this morning.”
Spike’s head began to pound. He cupped his forehead in his hands. “Arggg. My head feels like it’s got hammers in it trying to pound their way out.”
“Good.” Buffy said handing him three Aspirin tablets.
“Good? What are you? Sadistic?” He stared blankly at the chalky looking pills now sitting in his hand.
“Hey, you need to learn a lesson. No time like the present.” Buffy shoved a piece of toast in his open mouth. “Now, get up and get ready for work, William.”
He watched as she walked out of his bedroom while he tried to process what was going on. Slowly he got himself out of bed, and picked out something to wear. Life was life, and for him life meant acting like a complete idiot and drinking until- well he wasn’t sure till when. The point was he still had to drag his very sore self outta bed and pretend to be human, which in retrospect was easier after a night of drinking when he was a demon.
It wasn’t until he was halfway done with his shower that he realized she hadn’t called him Spike. He tore open the shower curtain and grabbed a towel before running out of the bathroom, and nearly slipping as his wet feet hit the tile of his kitchen. He righted himself on the kitchen counter before he gasped out. “What did you call me?!”
She turned around to face him, while trying to keep her eyes on his face. No small challenge considering just how utterly sinful he looked wet and sleek with just that towel on him. Bad towel, lucky towel. “I uh, called you William.”
His forehead crinkled and a tiny drop of water traveled from the perch on his nose to drip onto his bottom lip. “Why?”
Buffy took a few steps towards him. The traveling droplet now drawing her attention. “You asked me to. Last night, you said you liked it.”
Spike kept hold of his towel with one hand. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re calling me William.”
Thankfully now, her mind whizzed beyond the very wonderful view in front of her. She crossed her arms. “You always called me Buffy. Think about it. Think about why you stopped calling me Slayer all the time.”
Spike looked down his hall absentmindedly. Then he looked back at her thoroughly confused.
She watched him. Why was she nervous? She didn’t really know. It wasn‘t like she didn‘t know how he felt. “Willow said- she said you still love me.”
He waved his free arm in the air. “Of course I do!”
A huge grin made it’s way across her face. “Really?” A nervous tremble started in her stomach.
“Always.” Soaking wet, with a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist. “I told you I tried not to. Did you really think getting my life back would change that? Would change my heart?”
Now she was shaking. The tension inside her was about to spring back and snap her in half. She was sure, but he’d asked, and she wanted, or maybe she needed to answer. “It changed things.” She took her trembling hand and pushed back some hair, no longer able to focus on him and looked down towards the floor.
Spike noted her tremors. “Buffy. What’s wrong?”
She took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes. The window to one’s soul. “It made me see.”
Was she actually trying to say what he thought she was trying to say? “See what, luv?”
She couldn’t look away. “You.”
Spike nearly dropped the towel. “Me?”
“William. I think- I thought a lot this summer. Not everything is the same, even before yesterday.” She held her breath waiting for her legs to stop shaking and her heart to stop beating so frantically. She held her breath and waited for the world to crumble or lightening to strike her dead or whatever else she‘d been waiting to happen if she ever allowed herself to have feelings for him.
But none of those things happened.
He didn’t think. Instead he closed the small distance between them with one step and looked deeply into her eyes for some hint of a lie, a joke, something other than what she said. When he saw only truth, he wrapped his arms around her and nearly laughed with glee.
Her smile was light when she put her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him closer.
He leaned into her, and began kissing her lightly. First her lips, then her cheeks, neck and forehead.
She cupped his face and let him shower the gentle rain of kisses on her.
He came back to her mouth and ran his tongue over her lower lip, eliciting a moan and gaining entrance. His mind raced with every dream, fantasy and thought of her. His Buffy. The reason he walked. The reason he breathed, and lived. He placed his forehead against hers while they both caught their breath. “Buffy, I love you so much.”
She smiled up at him. “I love you too, but you’re going to be late.”
He smiled into her eyes. “Alright.” He was about to pull away, when he felt a draft.
A short yelp came from Buffy.
When he looked down to see the fallen towel, her eyes had followed.
Spike snatched up the towel and looked up to see Buffy’s back, and chuckled. “If I remember correctly, you have seen me without clothes before.”
She waved behind her, virtually shooing him away. “Go! Get dressed for school like a good boy.”
A little while later they were heading towards the high school in his Desoto.
“So does that mean you’re going to break your date with the copper?”
~~`~~
Buffy dreaded the call. What would be her excuse? Well the truth was one way to go. The phone rested between her shoulder and head as she doodled on some paper in the magic shop. Anya listened from the other side of the counter as moral support. News had traveled fast when it came to the Scoobs.
“Jason. Hi, it’s Buffy.”
“No. Everything is ok. But I need to break out date for tonight.”
“No it’s just, do remember the guy that was here last night?”
“Yeah, him. Well he and I…we were seeing each other.”
“Kind of. Well I broke it off, but, some things are different, and I’d like to-“
“Thanks you Jason. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
“I did? Great! Thanks.”
“Ok. Thanks for understanding. Bye”
She hung up the phone. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.”
Anya studied the phone. “Very easy.”
Buffy shrugged. “He really is a nice guy. He’s just not..”
“Spike?” Anya offered.
Buffy nodded.
~~`~~
Jon related the newest information to his Master. “They were seen leaving together.”
“I sense the changes.” The Master closed his eyes. “If they discover the truth, we may be lost.”
“Should I retrieve The Key?”
“No. It is too soon. We must increase our numbers.”
“Very well. We will go out every night this week.”
The Master pointed at Jon with his index finger. “Choose them wisely. We must have strength, not just in numbers.”
Jon gave The Master a slight bow before walking away to prepare the minions.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This one was a bit of a challenge. I knew where I wanted to go but the journey had some bumps.
Chapter End Notes:
Oh wow! The Key! Gee Wiz I wonder what that could mean?
Just so you know, it isn't Dawn.I'm not THAT lame.
Just so you know, it isn't Dawn.I'm not THAT lame.