Much to Dawn’s delight, Spike was still there when she finished her homework, and even much more to her delight, he was sitting in the living room with Buffy, and they were…talking! They were having a normal conversation, though the talking stopped when she entered the room.
“All done?” Buffy asked.
“Yep. I’m all Pre-Calculus’d out.” She sat down on the couch next to her sister and caught Spike’s stare. “What?”
“Nothing. This is the first time you’ve actually done your homework without an hour long fight since I can remember.” Dawn rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have the magic touch, I guess,” she shrugged. She looked at Buffy. “Anyway, now that I’m all done with homework, we should do something. We could catch a movie, or we could go to the mall or the movies. Nothing much has changed since you left, but I heard there’s a new Keanu flick coming out. And he goes shirtless. I mean, come on.” Buffy smiled to humor her sister.
“Maybe some other time, Dawnie. I’m not really up to going out right now.”
“Oh. Okay, well, we can do something else. We can watch movies here and order pizza.”
“I like that idea. What movies?”
“Ohh…how about Dirty Dancing?” Spike groaned.
“What? I figured you’d like anything with ‘dirty’ in the title,” Buffy smirked. He couldn’t help but give her a half-grin. At least she was making jokes. She seemed to be livening up. He just hoped that wasn’t for show for Dawn’s sake. He could see it in her eyes though. She wasn’t faking this mood. He just hoped it would last. As much as angry, sarcastic Buffy got him going, he loved to see the pink in her cheeks and the smile on her face.
“Not after watching it, how many times these past few months, Dawn? Six hundred?”
“Ha ha ha,” Dawn scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, how about…I don’t know, Titanic?”
“That’s it, sun be damned, I’m out of here,” Spike said, standing up and starting to head for the door.
“Spike!” Dawn laughed. “Come back here. No girly movies. Promise. What do you want to watch?”
“Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”
“Ew,” Dawn groaned, crinkling her nose.
“Dawn of the Dead? House on Haunted Hill? The new one. It’s bloodier.”
“Gross. And no. We don’t have those movies,” Dawn replied with a proud nod.
“Alright then,” Spike said with a shrug. “Why don’t we let the slayer decide?”
“Yeah, Buffy, you decide,” Dawn urged.
“You didn’t seriously let my baby sister watch movies like that, did you?” Buffy asked.
“’Course not. For being the sister of a slayer, she’s sure got a weak stomach,” Spike chided. Buffy glanced at Dawn, who pouted.
“Titanic it is,” Buffy murmured, crossing her arms and glaring at Spike. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but smile at the defeated look on his face. Something was different. It was as if she’d come back with the anti-Spike part of her brain completely removed. She knew it wasn’t something as drastic as that, especially since she’d sensed the change before the final battle with Glory. Despite whom she was having fun with, it felt good. She decided then and there that she was going to try not to let herself get bogged down in what had happened. She was back, and there was nothing that could be done to change that, short of her getting killed again, and she didn’t exactly want that to happen anytime soon.
***
Dawn had fallen asleep about halfway through, and Spike had muttered a comment about how he wasn’t surprised. Buffy, not really in a movie watching mood anyway, turned off the TV and without a word, padded off into the kitchen. Without missing a beat, Spike was right behind her. He watched her made a cup of tea and settle down at the counter.
“Want some?” she asked.
“Not thirsty, pet,” he said with a shrug.
“My tea’s better than my cooking,” Buffy pointed out. “Though I guess I’m a little rusty.” Spike smiled at her, cocking his head to the side. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just good to see you smile. Thought it might take longer.”
“Well, I figure that if I’m here, I should probably act like it.” She sighed softly. “No use dwelling on the past, right?”
“You alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because less than a day ago, you were six feet under, and as far as I knew, that wasn’t going to change.”
“I thought you were asking about me,” Buffy quipped.
“I am. This isn’t some Slayer fake out. Normally I can see right through you, but you look like you’re trying to be happy.”
“I am. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” he said slowly, sitting across from her, placing his hands on the counter top. “So long as you’re doing it for yourself and not for them.” She looked up, meeting his gaze.
“Can’t it be both?” She shook her head. “Besides, when did you become so concerned about me doing things for myself?” Spike’s jaw nearly dropped.
“Let me think. Maybe since you came back from the dead? Or before that. When you threw yourself off of a tower to save your sister and possibly the world. No…no, I think it was before that when I fell in love with you.” Buffy stopped breathing, and he could see that this wasn’t something she wanted to talk about right now, but it was out there, and he cleared his throat. “Anyway…sorry about the poor choice in funeral dresses. I told them you were probably rolling your eyes at them from whatever cloud you were perched on. Long, black, modest. Not the slayer I know.”
“I don’t even know where they found a dress like that,” she shivered. “Then again, I don’t go shopping for funeral clothes very often. We buried Mom in her favorite sundress.”
“Yeah. Well, it’s a good thing Joyce wasn’t here to see the mess you left behind.”
“Mess?”
“Well, emotional mess. Nobody was right for weeks after you were gone.” He secretly added to himself that he’d suffered most of all, having to be in her house, seeing the Bot looking just like the woman he loved, hearing the past echo off the walls of the Summers’ home.
“Well, I’ll clean all of that up. Think I did most of that when I came back, you know?”
“Yeah. That helped,” he nodded. Buffy drank down the rest of her tea and placed the cup and saucer down in the sink.
“Feel up to patrolling tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t know…I’m not sure I feel like…” A rush of voices from the front of the house as her friends returned broke Buffy’s train of thought, and she immediately brought her hands to her temples, rubbing away the forming headache. “On second thought, patrolling sounds great.”
***
Buffy paused just outside of the gate, and Spike stopped next to her, weapon in hand, ready to slay…something.
“Buffy?” She turned at the use of her first name, and she shook her head.
“Graveyards. Not exactly my favorite place right now.”
“Right,” Spike winced, mentally abusing himself for suggesting that on the first night since returning from the grave that she spend most of her evening stalking vampires in the very cemetery she’d been buried in. “We can do something else if you want.”
“Like what? Look for demons at the park?”
“Hey, it’s been known as a hot spot for demon activity even after the sticky-handed nose pickers have gone off to their safe little beds.” Buffy made a face.
“Wow, you haven’t been around kids lately have you?”
“I was one myself, and I recall having a particular fascination with my nose and…”
“Ew, please do not finish that sentence.”
“Bet you were a cute one, Summers. All pig tailed and dressed in frilly little…” Buffy groaned and made a face.
“Dawn showed you the family album didn’t she?”
“Well…yeah, but I did accidentally swipe a few baby pictures of you when I was nicking your things last…” When he saw her expression change, he shrugged his shoulders, “Best we not dredge up the past, eh, luv?”
“I’d like them back. Whenever you get around to it,” she muttered.
“Right.” He cleared his throat, and they started into the dark, foggy cemetery.
“It’s quiet,” she murmured after a few minutes. She glanced over at him. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Let’s just talk…maybe they’ll hear us. It’ll draw them out.” Spike shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know. Maybe we scared them all away. We sure gave them one Hell of a summer, pet, your friends and me.”
“Yeah?”
“I think the whelp…ah, Xander, got a few slays in. I think he had a motive behind it. Every time he staked a vampire, Anya would get all doe-eyed, and they’d run off to do God knows what.” Buffy made a face. “My sentiments exactly.”
“So you really worked with them?”
“Well, when they really needed me. Mostly, though, I patrolled alone and came back home to keep your sis company.” Suddenly it was quiet again, and Buffy furrowed her brows.
“What?”
“What? I just talked. You talk now.”
“Okay,” Buffy said slowly. “Question.”
“Shoot.”
“What was the hardest demon you fought this summer?” Without thinking, the words came pouring out from Spike’s mouth.
“My own,” he uttered, suddenly going—if it was possible—paler in the face.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s…it’s nothing. Forget it.” He took a large stride to get away, but Buffy was next to him within a second.
“Spike?”
“Just drop it, Slayer,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Did something happen? The chip? Something?”
“The bloody chip’s still intact. Believe me, I found out a couple of times in the past few months.” Buffy furrowed her brows again, and he knew he couldn’t leave it at that. “The whelp.”
“Oh.” Whatever a whelp was, she wondered why he insisted on calling Xander that, but she decided that didn’t really have anything to do with the conversation. “Then what did you mean when you said what you said?”
“A little thing called death didn’t mess with your memory, did it, pet?”
“Stop stalling.”
“Fine,” he growled, but she could tell he wasn’t angry. What was it then? Was he embarrassed? No, she suddenly realized, as his shoulders slumped. He was ashamed. “I let you down.”
“Let me down?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Hello? You died, Slayer. A year ago, I’d have been the one to toss you off the tower myself…or at least make you think I would, but I fell in love with you.” Buffy shivered, and he saw her flinch, though he was certain that this time, she wasn’t disgusted.
“I was going to jump off that tower if I didn’t have any other choice, Spike. And that’s what I had to do. It worked out. We’re all here now.”
“But I didn’t know the witch would find a cure for your untimely death, pet,” he reminded her. “I pictured it. Pictured you falling…right over me. I was lying down there, thinking the night had gotten as bad as it was going to when I got tossed off that sodding thing, but when I looked up and saw you caught up in that…I wished I’d been mortal so I wouldn’t have to wake up in the morning and re-live what just happened.” Whoa.
“Spike,” Buffy stammered, not really knowing what to say. She’d hear d him pour his heart out to her before, but never like this. There had always been a little something behind it, or at least she’d let herself think so, but now? There was absolutely no way Spike was going to profit from this heart to heart, right?
“Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it. I dreamed about it. I thought of a million different ways to stop you, and each time, I saved you, and most of the time, you were so grateful you fell in love with me the way I guess I wanted you to.” She shrugged, realizing he probably could have lived without divulging that little tidbit. “Of course, sometimes, you went back to treating me like dirt. The unconscious mind can be a bastard.” Buffy couldn’t help but smile. “Anyway, I guess that was my punishment for not getting back up there to stop you…or for getting tossed off the tower before I could stop Dawn from being cut.”
“Spike, how many times do I have to tell you that I did what I had to do? If you’d come up there to try to stop me from jumping, I’d have thrown you off of that tower myself. I’m the Slayer. It’s what I do. Put myself in the thick of it to try to save everybody else’s asses.” She pulled her arms around herself, as if shielding herself from exposing her thoughts too much. Didn’t work. “Stop blaming yourself.” Spike muttered something under his breath, but Buffy stopped him, grabbing his coat sleeve. “You did exactly what I asked you to do. You protected Dawn. I’m…” I’m really going to say this aren’t I? she thought. “I’m grateful to you.”
“Kept her safe? She was tethered to the sodding…”
“How’d she get down?” Spike sighed softly.
“Soon as I came to my senses, I went back up. Don’t really remember much of it.”
“But you did it. So you can stop blaming yourself, alright? Can we just move on?”
“Why are you so quick to forgive me?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Wasn’t too long ago that you wouldn’t have bothered to even explain yourself to me. Now you’re trying to convince me. What’s this all about?” Buffy shrugged her shoulders and started off again, Spike keeping up with her pace.
“I don’t know. You changed.” He couldn’t suppress the grin playing across his features, but she wasn’t looking. “I’m not saying the things you did before don’t matter. I mean, you tried to kill me and you tried to kill my friends, but look at you. You’ve been working with them. You took care of my sister for months. An evil vampire wouldn’t do that. You don’t even have a soul, and you stepped up. It wasn’t to win points with me, because I was dead. So what was it? It wasn’t the chip. The chip wouldn’t have stopped you from running off and leaving everybody else to pick up the pieces.” Spike stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Dunno. Just thought it was right. Dawn lost her mum and then you.” Buffy stood silently as Spike spoke about these things, and she felt her heart begin to pound. Spike was telling her the truth. He had no hidden agendas for once, and good God, why was it affecting her like this? Her cheeks were stinging with warmth. “Didn’t think it’d be right to leave and make her lose someone else. I wanted to leave.”
“You did?” He nodded.
“You think it was easy staying in your house after you were gone?”
“Oh,” she said quietly. Somehow, she’d come to stand closer to him. They were face to face, boots touching.
“That’s why I went out and patrolled alone most nights. Still, I always ended up at your grave.”
“You…you did?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, looking away. “They stopped coming. Not that they were burdened or anything. It just hurt too much. But I made myself. Figured you shouldn’t be alone.” Buffy could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Who was this vampire? He had changed. He had the same features as the Spike she once new, but he was nothing like him.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’m sure I appreciated the company.” He smiled at her, and even in the dark, his blue eyes called to her, and she felt her entire body quiver. What was this? Why was it happening? Why didn’t it feel wrong? His hand came up to brush a lock of hair out of her face, and his fingers lingered on her warm cheek. She fought against the urge to nuzzle against his comforting hand. “It’s amazing.”
“What?” she managed to utter, despite the fact that as hard as she fought to remain composed, her insides were turning to mush.
“You. Standing here. Never thought I’d…” He shook his head.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “How about that?” Both of them knew they should move, but neither could. It was as if they were stuck by some spell, some invisible force. But the longer they waited, the less they cared to move, and Buffy felt her heart begin to pound faster the moment Spike’s cool breath passed over her lips. “What is this?”
“Don’t know, pet,” he whispered, obviously as tempted and caught up by this feeling. It definitely wasn’t new for him, but he never expected her to look at him like that. Now, did he kiss her, or did he pull back and safe them both from the pain that might come later. But, neither of them, vampire nor slayer, were that strong. She found herself inching closer, their lips barely a breath apart, and just as her eyes were about to close, something flickered in the not too distant distance.
“Vampire,” she breathed. A smile curled over his lips.
“Slayer.” Suddenly, her hands were on his shoulders, and she was pushing him aside.
“No! Vampire!” she yelled, taking off in pursuit of her victim. Spike was a bit dazed from the intoxicating scent of slayer. Perfume, sweet breath…arousal? Surely not. But she was looking awfully cozy standing in front of him, close to pressing her lips against his.
“Little help!” he heard her yell, as she was tossed through the air, her back slamming against the very hard wall of a crypt. Spike immediately dashed off toward the fight, and while Buffy half lay and half sat against the wall of the crypt, she listened to the sounds of a very nasty fight, and within minutes, she heard the distinct sound of a stake plunging through dead tissue, and moments later, Spike was standing over her, hand reaching out. She narrowed her eyes, realizing she was a little dizzy. She reached up, and he helped her stand.
“You alright, Slayer?”
“Yeah. I…I guess I’m just a little rusty.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” She placed her hands on her lower back and stretched backward and then forward. Spike watched her as she tried to be tough.
“It’s alright, you know. I won’t tell anybody.” She stopped and turned to him. “Nobody’s gonna think twice. You haven’t done this in months.”
“But I’m the Slayer. I should’ve been able to get that guy in two seconds.”
“Every Slayer has their off days. I think I know that a little better than anyone.” He watched Buffy’s eyes fill with recognition, and he looked away again. Something pulled at him from the inside, telling him to look away for fear of seeing disgust return to her eyes. But instead of turning her back on him, she just shifted in her place.
“I think that’s all we’re going to get tonight. Maybe we should head back.” He looked back at her, and she gave him a half smile. “Thanks for your help.” He didn’t answer. He just stood there, a bit dumbfounded, as she headed off for the gates, and after a few moments’ pause, he hurried to catch up.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Author's Note: Thanks for all of the feedback so far! I appreciate the kind words, and I hope you continue to let me know what you think in the comingchapters and in this one! I made a little "trailer" for this story and put it on Youtube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pbep6ouN790
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pbep6ouN790
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for all the feedback so far! Please let me know what you think about the story...feedback is always appreciated! Thanks!