Chapter 4: Scrapes and Bruises
The house was dark when they arrived back from patrol. There was a note taped to the TV screen, and Buffy pulled it off to read.
“Buffy, went to the Magic Box with Willow and Tara. Get some rest! Love, Dawn.” She put the note down on the coffee table and turned to see Spike standing next to the door, hand on the knob.
“Well, uh, I made sure you got home in one piece, so I’m gonna take off.” Buffy felt something jump inside of her, and she looked up at him.
“Oh. Ok.”
“Unless you need me to stay?” he wondered, part of him hoping she’d ask him to, the other part telling him that he was just making it worse for the both of them.
“You probably do have a lot to catch up on, so you should go,” Buffy said carefully, moving past him to hang her jacket on the rack. It was then that he saw the blood on her shirt.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
“Your shoulder.” She touched the area he nodded toward, and she felt the fresh blood coat her fingertips. She winced.
“Some powerful slayer, huh?”
“Sit down. I think Dawn left the peroxide on the counter.” Buffy watched him head back to the kitchen and then sat down on the couch, waiting for him to return. She was trembling. Why was she trembling? Maybe because she’d nearly been taken out by an ordinary vampire. Maybe because right before that, she’d been a half second away from kissing Spike.
“Got the stuff,” he muttered, walking in and sitting next to Buffy on the couch. “Turn around.” Wordlessly, she did as he said, and she waited patiently while he tried to move her shirt down far enough to clean the wound. “Uh…that shirt’s got to come off, luv.”
“What?! No!”
“The wound’s got to breathe, for one, and second of all, it’s hard to clean it when your shirt’s in the way.”
“Then give it to me. I’ll do it.” She quickly took the bandages, cotton, and peroxide and headed into the bathroom. Luckily, her hands were healing quickly, so this should too, but when she got to the upstairs bathroom, stripped down to her bra, and began attempted to fix her own injury, she realized it wasn’t possible. Groaning, she held her shirt over her front, and she stepped out of the bathroom. “Spike?” Silence. Maybe he’d gone home. But then she heard footsteps on the stairs, and her skin prickled, and goose bumps rose on her arms. She forced herself to believe that it was because the house was cool.
“Need a hand?” he asked casually, stepping into view.
“Apparently so,” she muttered. “No peeking.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, pet.”
“You so would.”
“Just sit down,” he instructed. Buffy closed the toilet lid and sat down on it sideways, her back to Spike. The moment she felt him touch her, she jumped a little, and he couldn’t help but smile. “All right?”
“Your hands are cold.”
“Vampire, luv.” Buffy frowned, but she said nothing, and she let Spike disinfect her wound. She winced a few times, feeling remarkably weak. She was the Chosen One, for crying out loud, and she was reduced to requiring a vampire to patch her up.
“I don’t know what happened to me out there,” she admitted, as Spike placed a bandage on her shoulder. She quickly slipped her shirt over her head, and he didn’t exactly make any efforts to look away. But, she stood and turned to face him.
“It was a rough night,” he pointed out. “Like I said, everybody has their off days. Can’t expect you to be in top shape less than a day after…”
“Yeah, but,” Buffy argued, “I should be. I mean, I took care of a bunch of ugly demons on motorcycles, and yeah, I wasn’t fighting at the top of my game, but I managed. This was one vampire, and he had me out of the fight before I could even think about going in for the kill.”
“Slayer, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he assured her, his hand moving to her shoulder. She glanced at his hand there, and he quickly withdrew it.
“Yeah, well, easier said than done.” She padded out of the bathroom and moved into her bedroom, turning on the light and moving over to her bed, sitting down and taking off her shoes. Sensing the conversation wasn’t over yet, Spike followed, but he didn’t enter her room. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe. “Maybe subconsciously I’m trying to get myself killed.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I mean, you saw me yesterday. Not pretty. And this morning. Everything in this world feels…I don’t know…different. I come back, and my house is different, my friends are different, you’re different. And if Dawn’s researching and patrolling, I’m going to kill her.”
“She’s not. We saw to it that she did school research only, and she hasn’t so much as touched anything sharp or pointy.”
“Not even a steak knife?”
“Actually, she went through a vegetarian phase for a little while, if you can believe it.”
“Dawn? Junk food queen?”
“If you can believe it. Didn’t last.”
“See, everything’s different,” Buffy said, throwing her hands up, feeling the pull on her shoulder and wincing again.
“Not everything’s different, Buffy.” She looked up at him, seeing the blue of his eyes burning bright. She couldn’t help herself from feeling the intense attraction she felt at that very moment. She’d always felt an attraction from him but was always able to render it as part of his evilness. The seductive vampire, luring girls with his baby blues and his sculpted features and then…
“Yeah, well, a lot is, and that’s probably why I feel so different,” she explained, standing up quickly and moving across her room to her dresser. She began to take off her earrings, and Spike couldn’t help but smile at how she was talking to him and doing this at the same time. It was as if they were old friends, and he wasn’t even certain if ‘friends’ defined them even now. “I’m not supposed to be alive.”
“Slayer…”
“I’m not. I died, and that means that the world changed to count me out. Things change when someone dies. I wasn’t supposed to come back.”
“But you did.”
“And it screwed everything up. I’m happy to be alive, but I’m not happy that I have to live like this.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters,” she explained, pointing to her shoulder, “this sucks. Being thrown around by a vampire, that sucks too. Being a stranger in your own house…”
“You’re not a stranger. As much as I hate defending your group of friends, they’re trying to make you feel at home. You’ve been through something, pet, that most people never have and never well, except vampires like myself, of course.” Buffy eyed him.
“You’re not like other vampires,” she mused. Spike cocked his head to the side. “Sure, you might not have a soul, but you helped a bunch of humans…and an ex-demon. You babysat my little sister just so she wouldn’t feel alone. You’re here right now. You dressed my wounds. What the hell are you?” Spike raised an eyebrow, sensing the change in Buffy’s tone. She sighed and pushed past him, heading down the hall and then the stairs. He was right behind her. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know why. I love you.”
“And if you didn’t? Would you still act like this?”
“Does that even matter?” he wondered. “I do love you, Buffy.” They were in the living room again, and Buffy wasn’t sure if she wanted to sit down, pace, or go outside. So she settled for sitting on the coffee table, while Spike paced in front of her. “When you died, I tried to stop loving you, because it would have been a hell of a lot better than missing you ever sodding minute, but I couldn’t stop. This isn’t right, Slayer. Vampires aren’t supposed to feel love, but I do. It’s not the bloody chip, so don’t even try to push it off on that. Not every bloody demon out there is a textbook case. When I first told you I loved you, the look on your face…” He shook his head.
“Spike…”
“I can’t help the way I feel, and right now, you’re here, and that’s all I wanted. It’s all I asked for after you were gone. That you were here, alive. And you think you’re not supposed to be here. You think it’s wrong that you’re back, because it feels different? I know you never cared about what I thought, but put yourself in my shoes for a minute, Slayer. Say…the love of your life comes back from Hell…” She flinched, knowing he was referring to Angel, “and it’s the only thing you’ve wanted since the minute he left you. Say all he can say is that he doesn’t feel like he should be here. Not with you. He should be gone.”
“Spike, stop,” Buffy said quickly. “I said it feels different. I don’t want to be dead. I’m not crazy. I was at peace, because it was over. No more worries. Everything was going to be taken care of. Then I came back. It’s hard, Spike. It’s hard adjusting from peace to chaos.” She stood up, slowly crossing the gap between them. “Why? Why you? Why do you love me?” He could see the tears in her eyes that she was desperately trying to keep from falling.
“I know I’m not Angel, pet, but I can’t change that. But I’m not sorry I love you, because right now, even though I’m bloody furious that you’re even questioning your place, I’m happier than I’ve been in months, because you’re here.”
“You shouldn’t love me. It’s not healthy,” was all she could say.
“Well, don’t worry about my health, pet. I’m not dying anytime soon.” With that, he turned and walked out the front door, leaving Buffy stunned into silence. The tears that stung her eyes began to fall, and she silently cursed to herself for letting herself get all teary eyed over Spike. But the only words she could hear echoing through her head were his: “I’m not sorry I love you.” Why was this happening? Wasn’t it bad enough that every single one of her relationships ended horribly, with him leaving, and her picking up the pieces? Now she had this seemingly harmless—on the outside—vampire taking care of her and her family, and he was by natural law, her mortal enemy. He was saying the kinds of things she’d wanted to hear from Angel long ago. But it was Spike. Spike!
“Why can’t things ever be simple?” she muttered to herself. Despite her confusion over everything in her post-postmortem life, he had stepped up and taken care of things while she was gone, and she couldn’t very well let him walk off thinking she hated him. She used to hate him, but now…now she wasn’t even sure that she disliked him. Sure, he was frustrating, but he wasn’t who he used to be. Hell, she wasn’t who she used to be either.
As she pulled on her jacket and went to open the door, she found that it swung open too quickly, pushing her back a little. Spike stood there, his hand on the other side of the knob, and Buffy let out a little gasp. Neither of them spoke, but Buffy stepped out of the way, and after a few moments, he took the few tentative steps into the house and shut the door.
They both stared at each other as if to ask ‘what now?’ and neither could come up with that answer. Finally, Buffy cleared her throat.
“I don’t hate you. I don’t even think I dislike you,” she started. “But you say you love me, and—“
“And I mean it.” Buffy nodded.
“And I don’t love you. I don’t know how I feel, Spike.”
“That’s alright.”
“No it isn’t. I’m a Slayer. You’re a vampire. I’m supposed to hate you, but the only thing I feel toward you is gratefulness, because you’ve been here. And that’s frustrating!”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not supposed to like you. I’m not supposed to think anything other than the things the Chosen One is supposed to think toward demons.”
“Told you I’m not a textbook case.”
“I can see that. Just…I thought you should know. I don’t hate you.”
“So…what’s that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy eyed him. “Does it have to mean something?” Spike swallowed hard.
“No. Not right now,” he offered. She nodded. “You want me to leave?”
“You don’t have to.” Spike groaned internally. Obviously, she wasn’t going to beg him to stay. “The couch is probably more comfortable than your crypt, though.”
“True,” he said slowly, deciding to refrain from telling her he’d redecorated and now had a big, cozy bed and everything. He’d much rather sleep closer to her than in a comfy bed anytime.
“Alright then. You can sleep on the couch.”
“That’ll suit me fine.”
“I’m going up to bed.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
“You’re not moving.”
“Neither are you.”
“Yeah. I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m already here, luv.”
“Right. I’m going.”
“Is there something you want, pet?”
“No!”
“I meant…did you want to ask me something?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Goodnight, Buffy.”
“Goodnight, Spike.”
***
Buffy woke in the morning to a very dim room. It was after sunup, she could tell, but what time it was, she had no idea.
Blinking a few times, she realized that she wasn’t in her room, and when she blinked a couple more times, she realized she was on the couch. But it wasn’t until that realization hit her that the sensations in her body screamed at her. She was not alone.
She realized her hands were placed against the cool, hard, smooth chest of a bleach blond vampire, and she was lying…on top of him! She let out a little gasp and looked up at his face. Sleeping like a baby. Dressed. Double checking herself, she let out a sigh of relief when she realized she too was dressed. Nothing happened.
Buffy slowly pried herself out of his arms, which were wrapped around her waist. She made sure that he was still sleeping before she rushed up the stairs, only to almost smack right into Willow, who was coming out of the bathroom.
“Buffy!” Willow yelped.
“Oh…hey, Wil,” Buffy said nervously. “Um…what time did you get in?”
“Oh, um, early enough. Dawn got off to school alright.”
“Dawn! She came downstairs.”
“Well, that’s generally how one leaves the house,” Willow said slowly. “Besides, it’s not like she didn’t already see you and Spike all snuggly wuggly when we came in last night.”
“Oh my God,” Buffy breathed, closing her eyes. “Wil, we didn’t do anything.”
“Well, you were both dressed, so I didn’t think so,” Willow replied slowly. “So…you and Spike?”
“No! Not me and Spike. I…” She sighed, defeated. “I got knocked around during patrol, and he patched me up. He left. He came back. We talked. I guess it got so late we fell asleep.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of blurry.”
“Buffy, are you feeling alright? I mean, sure, he’s been helpful, but he’s still Spike.”
“Wil,” Buffy groaned again. “I don’t know. Everything’s confusing.”
“Since you came back.”
“Well, yeah,” Buffy admitted, seeing Willow’s face fall. “But this isn’t about that. This is about making decision to sleep with vampires.”
“Sleeping’s different than…”
“I know, Wil. I’ve had boyfriends,” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.
“So is that what Spike is?”
“No!” Buffy replied. “I mean…I don’t hate him. Not anymore. But he’s in love with me, and he keeps telling me that, and I don’t love him. I don’t think I can.”
“But you’ve thought about it.”
“What do you mean? Of course, I mean, he’s always talking about it, so I can’t help but think of what would happen if I felt the same way. But I don’t. I…I don’t know what I feel.”
“Buffy, maybe you’re still weak from the other night. You should take it easy today.”
“I took it easy yesterday and got slammed against a crypt by a vamp. And then I almost kissed Spike.” She took a few deep breaths, feeling as if she was getting something off of her chest. For a minute, it was like old times, before college, before deaths and resurrections.
“You almost kissed him? What stopped you?”
“Well, if the vampire coming at us hadn’t, I would have.”
“You would’ve?”
“Well, yeah,” Buffy said, not so certain anymore. Willow looked at the clock.
“Oh God, Buffy, I’m sorry, but I really have to go. I have to stop by campus and then help Anya with some orders at the Magic Box. Tara’s already there.” She saw the anxiety in her friend’s eyes, and she gave her a big hug. “I can stay though. If you need me to.”
“No, Wil, it’s ok. Go on.”
“Are you sure? Hunky vampire on the couch downstairs.”
“Wil!”
“Oh, sorry, I mean…stupid, mean…hunky vampire on the couch downstairs.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Thanks for trying to help,” Buffy muttered. “I can handle the vampire. Go on. Don’t be late.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes! Go,” Buffy replied, feigning exasperation.
“It’s good to see you adjusting, Buff,” Willow said softly, hugging her friend again. “Are you feeling better?”
“I think so. Thanks, Wil. It’s just gonna take some time.” Willow nodded. “Wil? Aren’t you supposed to be…”
“Right! Bye, Buffy.”
“Bye.” Buffy watched as her friend dashed down the stairs. She rushed into her bedroom, found some fresh clothes, and hurried into the bathroom to take a shower.
***
He could hear her up there taking a shower, as he sat on the couch, still feeling the imprint of her warmth on his body. She’d been like his own personal blanket, a pause from the cold he constantly felt. Of course, he never noticed how cold he was until he had her in his arms.
When he heard the water shut off, he wondered how long she would mess around up there before finally coming downstairs. Surely she didn’t expect him to be gone when she came down. First of all, it wasn’t like they’d shagged. Second of all, it was bright and sunny, the deadliest kind of day for a bloke like him.
So, when he heard her upstairs getting dressed, he made his way into the kitchen, pulled out one of the jars of pigs blood that Willow and Tara generously purchased for him, since he’d become somewhat of a fixture in their home lately. In Buffy’s home. He knew better than to press his luck. It was only a matter of time before she kicked him to the curb. After all, she was back now. Dawn had her family back.
He poured the contents of the jar into a coffee mug, heated it for exactly 33 seconds, and when he had it at its perfect temperature, he drank it down, his face morphing as he drank.
“Spike?” Spike took the last sip, put the cup into the sink, generously rinsing it out, and then he turned at her voice. She raised an eyebrow at his vamp face, and motioned toward her own forehead.
“Oh. Sorry.” His face shifted back to normal. “All clean?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s your shoulder.”
“Already healing fast. Still a little sore though.”
“Want me to take a look?”
“No, it’s ok. I’ll live.” Buffy suddenly felt nervous. She was trembling all over, and she didn’t know what to do.
“Are you alright? Slayer?” Her heart fluttered. He stepped closer to her. The goose bumps came back.
“I’m fine. I just need some fresh air. I think I’ll go to the mall.” She hurried past him, avoiding his gaze, and she grabbed her keys. “Shopping ought to make me feel better.”
“Shopping with what? You died. They closed your bank account.”
“Well,” Buffy said slowly, “I guess I’ll go open another one then.” She cleared her throat and headed to the door. “See you later.” She opened the door and shut it swiftly behind her, leaving a very perplexed vampire alone in her house.
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