LAST ORDERS

CHAPTER 1

Dismal weather suited Buffy's mood, and seeing as how it was November in England, dismal weather was what she was getting. It seemed as if she had a permanent cold and she couldn't remember the last time her coat had been dry. Dawn's whining was reaching epic proportions too, and that didn't help the headache or the aches and pains either. She was relieved when the clock finally read 6:30 p.m. and she could escape the stuffy house that Giles had reluctantly purchased when it became clear that Buffy and Dawn were not just visiting him for a couple of weeks.

It was inevitable, really. Rome hadn't been working out - for her, at least; Dawn loved it - and Buffy had spent many hours sobbing on the phone to Willow, running up thousands of lira in bills that Giles had ended up paying off. She'd done a little waitressing while in Rome, just to show that she was willing to work and be an adult, but she had been so distracted while serving up gelato and tiny cups of super strength coffee that more often than not, she gave the order to the wrong customer. Still, it had been on her resume so she'd used it to her advantage, and was now working as a bar assistant-cum-waitress at a pub pretending to be upmarket with the slightly hyped up name of ‘Mandi's Meeting Place' that was located about a half mile away from Giles' house in West London.

Her shift was due to start so she lethargically dragged on her dark clothes and tied her hair back in a tidy ponytail. As an afterthought, she grabbed a couple of stakes and shoved them in her pocket, wrapped a bright scarf around her neck and headed for the door. She preferred to walk to the pub, refusing to bum a ride from Giles, as it gave her time to think. Although, maybe that wasn't such a good thing.

Thinking always led to one thing; well, one person. A damned, infuriating vampire who had managed to worm his way inside her heart despite every fibre of her being trying to keep him out. Spike.

Buffy gritted her teeth and willed the tears to go away. For some reason, tonight it was hard for her to keep it together; she'd been tearful all day, monosyllabic in response to Dawn's attempts at conversation and eventually her sister had given up, leaving her to her own amusements. Deep into self torture, Buffy had sat cross-legged on her bed and tipped out the contents of the duffle that she'd salvaged from the school bus. Her fingers caressed the items one by one, cataloguing them mentally: this was his journal, these his words; he touched this page, swept his fingers over the smooth surface. These splodges are his tears, his heart poured out on this page. This was his ring, he gave me this when Willow's spell made us believe we were in love...before we knew we were in love. This was his shirt; I wore it that last night in Sunnydale, his scent woven into the fibres but fading every day. He drew this picture of me, saw me this way...

By the time she'd finished, she'd been a wreck, not even attempting to eat the meal that Dawn had made for her, and her sister had wisely backed off, although Buffy had heard mumbling in the hallway that gave away the fact that Dawn was reporting back to Giles on her lack of nourishment. She'd no doubt receive a lecture about that very soon.

On her way to the pub, Buffy tried to recall previous Giles lectures, all of them well meant, no doubt, but lectures nonetheless. She supposed she'd miss them if they weren't delivered, but the ones regarding her moving on and forgetting all about Spike were the worst. Those were the ones that had her screaming at him, purple in the face, and dangerously near to using her super strength to do some serious damage. In fact, a number of fragile items had suffered at her hands and the house had become far less cluttered as a result. Giles had started to back off before she got to the screaming stage, but she noted the disappointment in his eyes and felt guilty. He meant well...

The walk to the pub was uneventful, as ever. Buffy pushed on the door and entered the brightly lit interior, checking out the clientele as she walked through to the back. Not many in tonight, but it was early yet. Thursdays always started slow but by the time the theatre crowd had been to see their favourite actors and were desperate to eat and giggle about a time well spent, the bar would fill up. It kept her busy, and that was all good. Her first task was to check with the kitchen what was on the menu and she shared a joke and a coffee with Gino as he told her to try to push the prawns as they were close to going bad and he wanted them finished off tonight if at all possible. Buffy said she would, marvelling that this was what her life had become. It reminded her of the time she'd gone to LA, christened herself Anne and waited tables in the rundown diner. She'd been trying to forget a man then, too...

Seven-thirty rolled around, time to dim the lights a little and get the mood music thumping. Buffy opened the cash register and took out a couple of coins heading to the jukebox and selecting music at random. She was keying in the three digit numbers absently while scanning for more songs, but stopped, her fingers hovering, her mouth open on a gasp as she focused on the title that had just popped up. I Wanna Be Sedated - The Ramones. Her heart clenched in her chest and she felt sick as she remembered the date that wasn't a date that Spike had arranged oh so long ago. She longed to be able to go back and instead of shooting him down in flames and mocking him, she'd grab him, hold him tight, kiss him and tell him how much she loved him. How blind she'd been for so long, and now it was all too late.

The pounding beat of the song took over the rhythm of her heart, every thump painful as she moved on autopilot, setting coasters on tables and taking orders. She was relieved when it ended, but sad, as it was another connection to her vampire now gone. Buffy decided that tomorrow she would seek out all the Ramones songs she could find and immerse herself in them, anything to feel close to him.

Damn him.

+ + + +

Dawn sighed with relief when she heard Buffy close the front door behind her. The situation with her big sis was getting out of hand. Giles, luckily for him, was able to escape to the Council every day, thus missing out on the worst of Buffy's... whatever it was she was going though. The same couldn't be said for her, and she felt helpless in the face of Buffy's failure to deal with Spike's death. Dawn couldn't wait for the next semester of school to start so she could get away too. Giles wouldn't even speak to her about it; every time Dawn brought up the subject of Spike, he shut down and stuttered so much she thought he was having an apoplexy, and she'd had to look that word up in a thesaurus. Willow was away on a retreat with the coven - again - and Xander was so caught up in learning to be a mini-Giles that she got no sense out of him. That left Dawn to deal with it by herself and she'd had enough. Time to get the Scoobies back together and doing what they did best. Solving a monster crisis.

She thought that Buffy fit the description of a monster right about now...

Decision made, Dawn reached for her phone and made a few calls. She did sort of make it seem a little more urgent, maybe, than it really was, and there were a few tears and whines - but she had to use everything in her arsenal. Whatever, it worked. Xander agreed to come and chat the following night and when she eventually got hold of Willow, having left numerous voicemail messages, the witch agreed that she'd cut short her retreat and head home in time to meet up with the Scoobs. Such as they were, at least. The heart appeared to have been ripped out of the group with the demise of Sunnydale, the once close friends scattered and distant.

Dawn was determined to rectify that, believing that giving Buffy something familiar might just snap her out of her fog of Spike yearning. She had to do something, or Buffy was going to go insane and take everybody else with her into madness. It wasn't as if Dawn could just go get Spike and hand him to Buffy, but at this point....

Oh why hadn't she thought to keep hold of that resurrection spell she'd got from Tara after her mom...but no; that was bad, and anyway, it probably wouldn't work on a vampire. Still, she might suggest it to Willow as a last resort. No, scratch that - there lay a world of bad. But if she couldn't get Spike, maybe she could get something Spike-like?

Now there's a plan.

The door opening again heralded Giles arrival, and Dawn pounced on him before he could sidestep the kitchen and head upstairs. She dragged him into the kitchen and seated him at the table, ignoring his protests that he was far too busy and must get on.

"I have to speak to you, Giles. It's important."

Giles removed and polished his glasses, shifting on his chair uncomfortably. The cause was revealed when he stammered out, "Is...is Buffy here?"

"No, she's gone to work. But it is about her."

Giles sagged with relief. He really couldn't deal with Buffy right now; it would only take a pout and a sorrowful glance and he'd be dead - quite literally, probably. At least he'd be able to escape for tonight, and maybe tomorrow he'd think of something else. "Oh, right. That's good, then. And...sorry, you said...Buffy?"

Dawn started speaking before he had a chance to change his mind. "Willow and Xander are coming over tomorrow while Buffy's at work and I want you to be here too. This can't go on, Giles. It's driving me crazy and I'm the one stuck with her most of the time. It's alright for the rest of you, you're never around. So while you're off making with a real life, I have to try and make sure she eats and that the radio's not tuned to a punk station and that there's nothing lying about that reminds her of Spike and sets her off - and that's bloody impossible because everything reminds her of Spike. And now I'm saying bloody like a real native. I swear, Giles, she's sending me over the edge!"

Giles simply nodded, pinned in place by Dawn's surprisingly frightening stare. "Yes, yes...of course. I'll be here. But what exactly do you have in mind?"

Dawn sat and leaned her head on her crossed arms on the table, sighing. She straightened up and slumped back in her seat. "I've no clue. But surely the Scoobies can come up with something? We saved the world, Giles! Fixing Buffy should be easy compared to that!"

Giles shivered under her imploring gaze. How on earth would he be able to get out of this one? Somehow, he felt very sure that his entire life was about to change.

+ + + +

Buffy woke the next day as she heard Dawn clomping down the stairs and slamming the door behind her. For some reason, quiet was not something Dawn had ever mastered and Buffy mumbled Spike-like expletives under her breath and turned over to hug her pillow. She'd been having a dream...the dream...the one where he'd stood, bathed in bright light in the caverns below the school, but instead of dying, the light went out and he ran to her, arms outstretched, wrapping her close and whispering his love. It was just about to get interesting when she'd suffered Dawnus interruptus. That girl...

As it became clear that the dream wouldn't be returning and that sleep was now a mere memory, Buffy kicked off the covers and shuffled downstairs to gorge herself on Dawn's chocolate covered cereal and watch some daytime tv. Such was her life.

Last night had been a bust, slayer-wise; not one measly vampire or demon to relieve the boredom, even though she'd deliberately headed into the seedier areas. She'd had to fight off a drunk, but that wasn't difficult as a gentle push had him heading to the ground, where he remained as Buffy stepped over him. She'd probably served him the pint that pushed him beyond his capacity, but she didn't care.

She didn't care about much these days. Even shopping didn't have the same attraction, and as for her appearance...Her hair was dull and she usually just dragged it back into a ponytail, and lip-gloss was a once a week application just to stop Dawn giving her "the talk" again. Why should she be bothered by what she looked like? It wasn't as if she wanted any attention from the opposite sex, far from it. Sleep, eat, work, slay - that was her life now.

That - and the mourning, of course.

+ + + +

She glanced at the clock and suppressed a groan, time to shift her butt into gear and get to work. Another day had passed, spent fondling well-worn pages and sniffing cloth that no longer held his scent. In the periphery of her mind, Buffy knew this couldn't continue, but she told herself she'd make a change tomorrow, sort out her head and move on.

Those words...move on. Giles said them with his eyes every time he looked at her. Dawn too. Nobody loved Spike more than Dawn did, and yet she had managed to deal with her grief and have a normal life, studying now in London for an Art degree while still helping out at the Watcher's Council with research when required. Andrew and Dawn were thick as thieves, best buddies - and didn't that beat all? - and Buffy sometimes envied her the ability to adapt. She'd love to be able to, start enjoying life, get some new interests. Stop crying...

But not tonight. No, tonight she would go back to the pub, play the Ramones again and find a quiet corner in which to hole up. Not that it would be quiet tonight; it was the weekend and that meant aching feet and beer-stained clothes. Oh joy.

Without even looking in the mirror, Buffy tied back her hair, dragged on her coat and headed out, wondering idly why Dawn hadn't been home.

+ + + +

Dawn waited past the time that Buffy should have left before creeping into the house and shouting up the stairs, crossing her fingers that Buffy hadn't had a sudden whim about staying home. There was no reply so she sprinted through the house, pushing open doors to satisfy herself that it really was Buffy-free. Grinning, she dialled Giles' office number first, following up with Xander and Willow's cells and waited.

It wasn't long before Willow showed up, having teleported from the retreat near Lesnes Abbey Woods. It seemed almost like business as usual when Xander arrived with a box of doughnuts, closely followed by Giles who looked decidedly nervous as he took his seat around the polished oak table in the large diner kitchen. Dawn took a moment to drink in the sight and marvel at the memories it triggered as the three original Scoobies bickered good naturedly. Eventually, they all turned to Dawn when they ran out of things to say.

"I suppose you all want to know why I wanted you here, huh?" Raised eyebrows and nods greeted her. "It's Buffy."

"Yeah, we kinda got that, Dawnie," Xander drawled, "seeing as how you sobbed and whined about her yesterday and made sure she'd be outta the way today. But Buffy what?"

Dawn took a deep breath. They all knew what was up with Buffy, but nobody spoke about it - and it was time they did. "You know what, Xander. She needs Spike."

Willow, Xander and Giles exchanged glances of varying puzzlement, Giles blushing, much to Dawn's amusement. She continued. "I don't care how we do it, but we need to get her Spike, ‘cause she's driving me crazy!" Giles' sputtering cough interrupted Dawn's flow. "Giles, you're very non-calm tonight. What's up?"

Giles muttered, his head bowed, and prayed that somebody else would speak. Xander, for once, was his saviour. "The G-Man's probably trying to point out that we may be a super-sexy Watcher in training, a wicked hot witch, a former key and head honcho extraordinaire, but we can't raise the dead. Well - obviously that's a big fat lie, but we can't raise the undead - can we?" He turned to Willow who shook her head vigorously in denial.

"Nope, so not going there. You know what happened last time with the scary black-eyed girl, and with the Dawn and Doc thing a big bust. I think we just leave dusty things dusted and get Buffy a hobby."

"Or a Spikebot," Dawn suggested, earning another blush from Giles and a look of consideration from Willow as she pondered whether she could actually do it. Xander was horrified, remembering the original intention behind Warren's Buffybot, and its very obvious talents as witnessed by him and Anya in the cemetery.

"Willow? Come on, you know you can so make a Spikebot, it'll be easy." Dawn tried Imploring Eyes No 2 copyright Dawn Summers, which would have worked if Giles hadn't interrupted.

"Ahem...I really don't think that's appropriate. And anyway, I'm sure that Buffy won't be fooled by a Spike robot, no matter how well made."

"He always was compact and well-muscled," mused Xander, shaking himself when he realised he'd spoken aloud. "For a vampire...you know...and anyway, we don't need to fool her, we can tell her the truth. Here's a Spikebot, use it."

"Ewww! Xander! That's gross, and that's my sister you're talking about. I don't wanna think about her doing...that. It's freaky."

"It was your idea!"

"Yeah, but I meant to go slaying with or walking with or sitting and watching tv with. I didn't mean to do that with...Great! Now I can't stop thinking about it."

Two and a half sets of glazed eyes confirmed that neither could anybody else in the room. Giles motivated himself first to try to change the subject and escape from the predicament he found himself in. "Ummm, we could...distract her, give her more jobs to do. We're desperately short of help at the Council."

Dawn snorted. "Pfft, yeah. Like Buffy's gonna wanna come help the tweed brigade. Didn't you hear her say she'd sooner stick herself in the eyes with red hot needles the last time you asked her to come do the show and tell slayer thing?"

"Yes, but as I recall she had just arrived here and I think she's settled quite well now...except for this small matter, of course. I'm sure it's just a phase, Dawn, and if we ignore it and let her get on with her mourning, she'll snap out of it soon enough. These things take time."

Dawn was frustrated. Buffy wouldn't get over mourning Spike any time soon, she just knew it. And she felt helpless and pissed, and she wanted her mom. And Tara, possibly Anya. But, truth be told, she wanted Spike - almost as much as Buffy did.

Willow patted Dawn on the arm and smiled. "I know how she feels, Dawnie. When Tara...well, you know how well I coped with that. But it does get easier. You don't forget, you just keep them here, inside." Willow placed her hand over her heart and looked at both Giles and Xander who were nodding in agreement, both remembering people they'd loved who were now gone.

Dawn ground her teeth. She knew all this, she'd been through all this. But this was different. Buffy wasn't dealing, she was getting worse, and one day soon she'd simply give up and there'd be one less slayer in the world. The thought of that scared Dawn more than she'd ever admit out loud. Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears that pooled and spilled in silver rivulets down her cheeks, her chin trembling as she tried to keep that stiff upper lip that Giles was so fond of.

In the face of Dawn's obvious distress, Giles conceded defeat. It had become increasingly difficult to keep the secret anyway and part of him welcomed the opportunity to share the burden and the subsequent decisions with someone else. He placed his glasses on the table in front of him and squeezed the bridge of his nose to ease his throbbing headache. It had been foolish of him to think that news of the magnitude he'd received a month earlier could remain undelivered for long.

"I may have a solution, then, although I hesitate to tell you...because then you'll be as culpable as I once the truth is discovered." When he replaced his glasses, he found a rapt audience staring back at him. "The thing is...well, of late I've...in LA, the fight, with Angel...but of course you don't even know about...well maybe Willow..."

"Giles! Please! You're killing me here - spill already! I've only got one lifetime, and I want to spend it somewhere other than here," Xander pleaded. His jaw dropped, along with Willow's and Dawn's, when Giles spoke.

"Spike's alive."

tbc

LAST ORDERS

CHAPTER TWO

“Spike’s alive?” Dawn screeched hysterically, closely followed by the same question in equally shrill tones from Willow and Xander.

Giles darted his eyes from one to the other, slightly panicked by their reactions. Dawn’s he’d expected, but not the other two. He’d rather been hoping for a slightly muted ‘oh’. Still, there was no putting the vampire back in the bag now, so he swallowed hard and carried on.

“Yes. I’ve recently found out that he survived a – well, I suppose one can only describe it as an apocalypse – that was averted by Angel and his group in LA. You were all aware that Angel had allied with Wolfram and Hart, you especially Xander given your recent training?” They all nodded, Dawn warily with narrowed eyes. “Well, it would appear that I misjudged Angel badly. It seems that despite my misgivings about him being in the belly of the beast, as it were, he was actually working from within. A heated battle ensued in which all but one combatant lost their lives, or should that be more accurately, lost their existence. Spike survived.”

Dawn spluttered in an effort to get the words out of her mouth before they choked her. “But …but…what the hell was Spike doing there anyway? What about the hellmouth, the amulet? Giles, what is going on?”

Giles sighed. “I suppose I should tell you everything.”

Dawn crossed her arms and pouted, leaning back and sulking in her chair. “It might help.”

“Quite. Well, do you recall that I sent Andrew to LA to retrieve Dana, the slayer who had an unfortunate reaction to receiving her powers? Andrew found more than he’d bargained for when he arrived in LA. The information I have about it is sketchy at the moment, although I’m working on filling in the gaps, but according to Andrew, shortly after the Sunnydale hellmouth imploded, Angel took delivery of a package that contained the amulet worn by Spike. Once Angel touched it, it would appear that Spike materialised from the amulet having been contained within it somehow at the very moment that he – died, I suppose. Andrew advised that initially Spike was insubstantial, like a ghost, but a second package triggered him becoming corporeal.”

Xander wrinkled his brow as he spoke. “So, you’re saying that bleach boy’s been back for over a year? And Andrew knew, and never said a word? I’d call that a miracle, the geek can’t hold his own breath.”

Dawn muttered, “I’ll rip his throat out, I swear. He knew all this time, listened to me ranting about Buffy and he never even blushed. I’m so going to kick his ass.”

“Don’t blame Andrew, Dawn. He was following my orders, and it appears Spike’s request not to tell Buffy. Spike had things he had to work through, he told Andrew. And I…well, I may have misjudged things I admit, but I had the best of intentions. I hadn’t made my mind up what I was going to tell Buffy, when news came of Angel’s final battle and by that time I thought it best to leave it as it was.”

Willow picked up on Giles’ words and asked a question that was on everybody’s mind. “Angel’s final battle? Do you mean…is Angel gone?” She was surprised at how much that thought hurt her, having had so little contact with the vampire for such a long time. She wouldn’t have thought he meant anything to her, but apparently she was wrong because she could feel tears building in her throat.

Giles gave a slight nod. “Yes, I’m afraid so. There were rumours that somebody had survived, but I thought it mere gossip, until I received an unexpected telephone call about a month ago.”

“Oh this is just great! I’ve been dealing with Depresso!Buffy for the last year and a bit and you could have made things better a month ago? You so owe me Giles, there’s gonna have to be payback.”

“Yes, I expect there will be, Dawn. Of many kinds. The telephone call was from an acquaintance of mine who thought I’d be the best person to deal with his slight predicament. It would appear that Spike had been badly wounded in the battle – apparently there was a dragon, would you believe…but of course, that’s for later – but he had somehow managed to drag himself into a shady area to hide from the sun where he must have been almost comatose for a number of days. My friend came across what he thought was a dead body…” Giles thought on those words for a moment before continuing. “Although, I suppose that’s exactly what it was…is…but I digress…”

“Ya think?” Xander muttered sarcastically.

“Have I told you just how much I’ve missed these meetings?” Giles replied haughtily before continuing his tale. “On turning Spike over, he recognised immediately that he was a vampire and was about to stake him when Spike mumbled Buffy’s name. My friend’s curiousity was sufficiently piqued to stay his hand, the name not being common and the fact that a vampire was uttering it intriguing him, and having taken precautions he removed Spike back to his home. Needless to say, when Spike came round to find himself chained he was not altogether happy, but managed, as he always seems to do, to make himself at home and engage my friend in conversation. Spike must have been convincing because shortly after that I received the telephone call from my friend, and subsequently, from Spike.”

“You’ve spoken to him? Oh, Buffy’s going to be so mad at you! I’d start running now.” Dawn couldn’t sort out her emotions. Spike was back. She was ecstatic. Spike was back. She was so pissed off with him, and with Giles. Spike was back. She missed him so much. Much of her snark was bluster, but she was a little upset that she’d been kept out of the loop when she’d spent so many hours of each day trying to make things right for Buffy when Giles had the remedy right there.

“Yes, I’ve spoken to him. I have to say, he seemed quite changed to me. Still recognisably Spike, but – and I hesitate to say this – more mature. The experience in the hellmouth and the circumstances of his return appear to have made quite an impression on him, never mind the work he did with Angel in fighting The Dark Thorn and Wolfram and Hart. From what my friend told me, and my own observations, Spike particularly mourns the loss of Angel which I find quite surprising given their uneasy relationship.”

Dawn snorted. “You’ve never understood Spike, have you? Or Angel for that matter. You know a lot about how to kill vampires, but not how they live. It’s the blood, Giles, remember? It’s always about the blood. They were family. Of course he mourns.” Dawn swallowed down a tear. Her heart ached for Spike even more.

“I’m kinda sad that Angel’s gone,” Xander said, surprising everybody including himself. “I just thought he’d always be here so I could make fun of his hair and tell him he’d never have Buffy. Wait…no…that’s what Spike did. Dammit, I’m becoming a clone. That vampire has thrall, I tell you. Well, I’m not being the bug-eating minion for him, that’s a promise. And anyway – where is he?”

“Yeah, Giles. Where is the one thing my sister’s been missing so much she’s been dying little by little every day?”

“Do stop the overly dramatic language, Dawn. It doesn’t become you, and if you’ll let me continue... He’s at my house in Bath.”

Dawn jumped to her feet. “Well, let’s go! What are you waiting for? Xander, will you drive….come on!”

Xander and Willow stood up, unsure what to do when Giles remained seated. They edged away slowly, but it was clear that Giles wasn’t budging.

“Giles? Come on…” Dawn implored.

“Sit down, please. I realise you want to go rushing off, but trust me when I say that would be the worst thing you could do. I told you – Spike’s changed. He needs to do things his way, and so far he’s not suggested a desire to see Buffy, or to talk to her.”

Dawn gasped and plonked herself down again at the table. This wasn’t going at all well; to hear that Spike was back then to be told he didn’t want to see Buffy was just too much. He always wanted to see Buffy. And if he didn’t – well, she just didn’t know how she would deal with it, and Buffy…she couldn’t even think about that.

Xander voiced her thoughts as he and Willow returned to the table. “Wow. The world really must have ended; Spike not wanting to see Buffy? Never thought I’d see the day. Are you sure it’s Spike, Giles?”

Giles nodded, wondering whether to tell them that he hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with the vampire about what Buffy felt for him, and the effects of his absence. He decided against it, just yet. “Yes, it’s Spike, and don’t worry – he is still as obsessed about Buffy as he always was, it’s just that he needs to know that she feels something for him. What did he say – and I apologise for the phrasing – he didn’t want to be …ahem…pussy whipped any longer.” Giles blushed up a storm and it grew deeper as Dawn giggled and Willow hid her smile behind her hand. “Thank you very much for not making me feel at all awkward, it’s much appreciated”, Giles huffed sarcastically.

Dawn leaned forward and looked earnestly at Giles. “I can’t believe he won’t want to see Buffy, no matter what. Can we just go and see him? Please?”

Giles tried hard to resist the teenager’s doe-like eyes, but succumbed shamefully in the face of her earnest gaze. Truthfully, he didn’t know what else to do, slowly dragging back the chair and standing. “Very well. It will take about two hours to reach Bath so I suggest we leave immediately. And Xander – I’ll drive, thank you. I’d rather like to reach the house in one piece.”

Xander shrugged and swept his arm before him, letting Giles lead the way to the Range Rover outside, remembering to call shotgun just as Dawn opened her mouth to do the same.

+ + + +

The house was dark when Buffy returned home, and she supposed Dawn would be in bed. The bar had been extra busy tonight, and it was gone 3.00 am when she finally made it back, having encountered a vampire couple who tried to make her the filling in their sandwich. She fixed herself a quick snack and headed to bed, flicking on the radio to listen to cheesy nighttime love songs. Her maudlin mood of yesterday had continued and she’d received very little in tips tonight, her sourpuss face not really pushing the punters’ buttons. Not that she cared.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep, clutching the fragment of black cloth that was her companion through the dark hours of the night in place of what she really wanted to hold. The dreams came unbidden and she thrashed about in her sleep as she relived battles she’d fought at Spike’s side, remembered shared berserker grins, revelled in the slaughter of demons and celebrated their continued existence in a tangle of warrior-hard limbs and bite-marked flesh.

* * * * *

It hadn’t gone particularly well at the start. Dawn’s cheeks were raw where her angry tears had run, her throat dry with shouting and her arms aching with the effort she’d had to make not to cling to Spike like a silly child. He had looked different, Giles was right. And he was definitely acting differently. Despite Xander suggesting that Giles should maybe ring ahead and warn Spike that they would be arriving, Giles had declined, explaining that he truly didn’t know how Spike would react and couldn’t even swear that the vampire would still be there if he had forewarning.

Consequently, Spike had been truly shocked at the arrival of Dawn, Willow and Xander, and had exchanged heated words with the Watcher. It took a great many heart-stopping minutes before Spike would even sit down and look at them, his entire demeanour indicating that he was ready to flee given the opportunity. Even Dawn’s tearful and garbled ‘so glad you’re back’ speech didn’t raise anything more than a clenched jaw and a lot of unnecessary inhalation, but she’d taken it as a positive sign that he hadn’t turned away from her.

After a flurry of nervous greetings, lots of “I’m well—and you?” from Willow in answer to Spike’s silence, the group sat tensely, Spike not having spoken a word to any of them except Giles, and that only to rant. That was when Dawn had lost her temper in a tantrum of monster proportions and started laying into Spike for letting them all think he was dead when he quite plainly wasn’t. It did the trick, Spike muttering sullenly that he’d been dead for over a century so what was it to her. But by this time Dawn was unstoppable.

“Selfish! That’s what it is – and you won’t even speak to us? And why Giles? Why didn’t you call me – do you hate me that much? And Buffy – don’t you care how she feels? Did you even think about her? You say you love her – prove it! Because from where I’m standing you don’t feel anything for anyone. I thought you were my friend, but I must have been wrong.”

Dawn was panting hard with the exertion of all her bottled up emotions spilling out without passing through the censor of good sense in her head. She didn’t mean much of what she said, but there was a grain of truth, nonetheless.

Spike, for his part, clenched his jaw tighter, obviously struggling to keep his anger in check – and succeeded, because when he answered, it was quietly and calmly. Definitely a different Spike.

“Dawn – I know you’re angry. And you won’t believe me, but seeing you here – it’s bloody wonderful, pet.” He gave a slight, nervous grin before continuing. “But things have happened to me, so many things. I’m not what I was, don’t want to be what I was again. I’ve changed, I’ve had a whole different life since …the hellmouth. I’ve been a hero, been trusted, had friends. Lost every buggering one of ‘em, but I had ‘em. They liked me for me, most of the time at least, and it felt good. Wasn’t like you lot, toleratin’ me just ‘cause I was useful occasionally. They cared for me.”

Xander and Willow half-heartedly shook their heads, but they blushed, knowing that Spike spoke the truth. Even Dawn avoided his eyes, remembering how dismissive and rude she’d been to him in that last year in Sunnydale. She envied the friends that Spike had made, knowing what it was like to be included in that special smile he saved for those he cared about.

Spike sat up straighter, his voice growing stronger as he got into his stride. “Even made it up with Peaches at the final hurdle, and if I could’ve moved quicker, he’d be sitting here with the Spanish Inquisition and I’d be blowing in the wind. Bloke was a champion to the end you know, despite what I've said about him. Fighting his own personal demons as well as the ones plain to everybody else. Bloody hero, deserved more.” He stared into space a little, his eyes suspiciously damp, nostrils flaring.

Xander, of course, couldn’t resist a tiny dig at Spike, more out of habit than anything else, his mouth flapping open and spilling words before he could stop them. “Deserved Buffy, maybe?”

Dawn inhaled sharply, her eyes boring into Spike and readying herself to jump between the vampire and Xander when the inevitable attack came.

It didn’t.

“Yeah, maybe,” Spike said softly. Dawn started to cry. She’d been right; he didn’t love Buffy any more and it was all too late and what would she do now? Buffy would just die, and she couldn’t lose her sister too.

It took Dawn a while to notice the cool arms that encircled her, the gentle whispers and soft strokes to her hair. Eventually she was composed enough to look up into ice blue eyes filled with compassion – and that set her off sobbing again, until she’d simply no more tears to fall.

“Shush, Niblet – what’s all the drama for? Know I’m a bloody mess, but there’s no need to go on.”

Dawn swallowed, her throat raw, her voice scratchy and breaking when she spoke. “Don’t you…love Buffy any more?”

Spike raised her head so that she would see the truth in his eyes. “Nothing will ever stop me loving Buffy – or you, so you can forget about that. But just because I love her, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let myself be kicked around by her any more. Not after what I’ve had. I can’t do it any more, Dawn.” His eyes blazed, underscoring his intention.

Dawn grabbed his shirt, willing him to believe her. “But she loves you! Giles – tell him!” she beseeched.

Spike replied before Giles could. “I know you want to believe that, Dawn, but I was only ever—convenient. She told me so herself, and I’m taking anything different she said those last few nights in old Sunnyhell as battle-crazy ramblings. Isn’t that right, Rupes?”

Dawn looked at Giles in amazement. He couldn’t really have let Spike think…after all the things that had happened with Buffy, surely he hadn’t…? Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he. Stupid, stupid man.

Dawn stood and disentangled herself from Spike’s embrace, stalking over to Giles and slapping him hard across the face. “How could you? You’ve heard her crying at night, the same as I have, seen how thin she is, how unhappy. And you let Spike think she didn’t love him. Go on, deny it.” Dawn crossed her arms, kinking her hips and scowling as only she could.

Giles stuttered, five fingers standing out starkly red against his pale cheek. His eyes shifted warily between the enraged teenager standing in front of him and the vampire visible with tilted head behind her back. “Ahem….well, yes…I haven’t really…the thing is, Spike hasn’t …it’s been difficult, Dawn.” Her eyes narrowed. “But of course you’re quite right, it was wrong of me. I had all the best intentions.”

“Road to hell’s paved with ‘em, Rupert. You should know that,” Spike drawled in an effort to settle down his racing emotions. “Do carry on.” The smile on Spike’s lips hid sharp fangs and a sharp tongue, things which were ever present at the forefront of Giles’ mind as he carried on, nervously.

“It is true, Spike, that Buffy hasn’t been the same since you—ahem—died. But as there was nothing I could do about that, I can hardly be blamed for her suffering, in my opinion. You know full well why Andrew and I didn’t tell anybody that you were back and working with Angel in LA and although I heard rumours of the survival of one of Angel’s group not long after the final battle, I had no idea that it was true, and indeed, of the identity of said person. It was only when my colleague contacted me recently that it became clear that it was you. And yes, I probably should have said something then, but you were so vehement that you had changed and you wanted to do things your own way that - well, suffice to say, I’m not omnipotent, despite how I am expected to have every answer. To err is human, after all.”

Spike raised an eyebrow in reply, the only thing going through his mind the little nugget of hope planted by Dawn that Buffy truly loved him. Her words, her actions – if Dawn believed Buffy, maybe he could?

Giles shuffled his feet, nervously glancing at the group. “And just to get things straight before I'm made to be the bad guy in all this, with hindsight, it would have been better to have told Buffy that Spike was back when I found out about it from Andrew – but that wasn’t entirely my fault, now was it Spike? You were the one who wanted it to be kept secret.”

Spike scowled; the Watcher was right, but for the death of him he couldn’t think why he’d felt so strongly about it at the time. From what Dawn said, and what the Scoobies were inferring, he could have been wrapped in Buffy’s arms the whole time, with Angel drooling on the sidelines. He pursed his lips at the pain the thought of Angel caused him. Family; couldn’t live with them, couldn’t think straight without them, couldn’t make up for lost time when they were gone.

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one. Don’t know what I was thinking, but I all but scared Andrew witless until he promised me he wouldn’t tell. In fact, I’ve still got Boba Fett hostage.”

Xander sniggered, thinking gleefully of how Andrew must have snivelled when Spike grabbed his collectible. Spike smiled directly at him, and Xander felt compelled to add his own comment to Giles’ homily.

“She misses you, Spike. Hate to say it – and you know that’s no lie – but she does. What can I say? The girl’s crazy insane but for some reason a world without you in it isn’t a world she enjoys.”

As Dawn and Willow nodded vigorously to underscore Xander’s words, Spike rattled off a lame insult to Xander’s manhood to hide his delight, his mind now racing with the possibilities that such a revelation offered.

The tension in the room lessened as Spike joked, the walls that had been very apparent when they first arrived in Bath now more or less gone. The silence they shared now was almost companionable. When Spike stood and walked into the hall, the four remaining occupants of the room looked at each other in puzzlement, not daring to speak and shatter the seeming truce.

A peroxide blond head peeped round the door-jamb, familiar smirk now in place, and – Dawn was pleased to see - if not the black duster, certainly a black duster. “Oy! Gramps – get a move on, don’t wanna spend another night watching bloody Big Brother when I could be snogging the Slayer.”

tbc

LAST ORDERS

CHAPTER 3


The journey back to London had been surreal; Spike spent the time fiddling and jabbing at the CD player, rifling through Giles' CD collection that consisted mostly of classical and ‘easy listening', with the odd rebellious anthem thrown in. Cream's Ulysses received a raised eyebrow and a grudging acknowledgement that Giles' taste might not be beyond redemption. In the end, after a much frenzied slapping of one pale and one slightly paler wrist as each tried to change the station, it was unanimously agreed by the car's occupants that silence was not only golden but essential to the mental wellbeing of them all.

Two hours crawled by until, at about 4:30 a.m., the Range Rover pulled into the tiny gravelled driveway and Giles switched off the lights. Everybody remained where they were, eyes heavy with sleep, but brains heavier with concerns about what was to happen next. Even Spike remained seated in the front, hand hovering over the handle to open the door but not connecting. His bravado seemed to have evaporated and he was losing his nerve. Dawn broke through the silence in typical teenage fashion with a loud yawn and her announcement that she was going to bed and they could all rot in hell for all she cared, almost tumbling out of the car and noisily opening the front door that she then left ajar.

First Giles, then Willow, then Xander - dragging Spike behind him - filed in after Dawn and headed for the kitchen. Spike's nostrils flared at the scent of Buffy Summers, a scent he'd thought he'd retained in his memory but that had, in fact, been only a pale imitation of the real, sensory-overload aroma of hot, pulsing slayer. He almost passed out before he could sit, but he managed to grab hold of the table and settle himself. Dawn dropped a brisk kiss on his head before stumbling off to bed, carton of orange juice stolen from the fridge in hand, her eyes closed as she almost sleepwalked off to dreamland as only a teenager could, given the circumstances. The rest of them waited for the kettle to boil, Giles having advised that hot chocolate was not his forte and that tea would be the far better option.

Sipping on his tea, Spike finally asked the question that was buzzing round his head.

"What do you think I should do, Rupes? Just go and slide beneath the sheets with her or wait to be formally introduced?"

Giles blustered, his glasses falling off before he had a chance to remove them, and narrowly missing falling in his tea. "I forbid you to accost Buffy in her bedroom, it would be...it's wrong!"

Spike relaxed a little, slipping into the mantle of the evil dead who teased and taunted Buffy's friends with ease. "Yeah, it would be - but bloody good fun I'll bet. What d'ya think, whelp? Slip her one while she's sleeping, cut through the awkward hellos?"

Willow threw herself across Xander's lap to keep him seated until he regained his composure enough to gesture obscenely across the table at the smirking vampire. Xander knew it was all to get him riled up, but damn! - Spike knew which buttons to press. He'd missed that...

Willow rubbed at her gritty eyes and tried to instil some sensibility into the conversation. It was a given that Buffy would be unpredictable when she saw Spike, but surely they could do something to limit the fallout. For starters, it would be better if the meeting was in public, because at least that way Buffy would have to restrain herself somewhat with an audience. "Guys, can we be realistic here? Buffy's gonna be pissed that Spike's been back for over a year and not let her know, so she's going to righteously kick his ass. We need a plan."

Spike saluted Willow. "Red's right," he said. "Slayer will slaughter me, well and truly - or at least she'll try. Can't say I blame her, even if I had my reasons. What d'you suggest?"

He directed his question at Willow, but Xander replied. "Give her a clear shot at your chest?"

Xander finished his comment with a grin, and Spike grinned back. It was almost like the verbal sparring with Gunn and Illyria - almost.

Willow noticed the tentative bonding between her best friend and the vampire she'd actually missed, and rolled her eyes at the two of them. Boys, no matter what their origin, they were all the same. "Xander! Do you ever change? I'm pooped; what do you say we sleep on it, sort it out tomorrow? Giles, can Spike stay here, out of sight maybe?"

Giles nodded, barely blinking he was so tired. "Yes. There's a room in the attic. Buffy doesn't rise until almost midday and then merely to watch daytime television and gorge herself on sugar, according to Dawn. I, of course, am usually at the Council by eight, but I fear tomorrow I may have a late start."

Willow tried to stifle a yawn, but failed. "Good. Then I'm going home with Xander; no point teleporting back to the wood tonight. We'll meet back here when Buffy goes to work - seven o'clock, alright?"

As everybody assented, Willow got to her feet and pushed an exhausted Xander before her, leaving Giles and Spike at opposite ends of the polished oak table cradling lukewarm tea. The uneasy silence persisted for a few minutes, before Giles pushed back his chair and made his way to the door, pausing for Spike to follow him.

With a rising sense of kismet, Spike did so, leaving his future squarely in the hands of a fate with more than a passing resemblance to Buffy Summers.

+ + + +

Buffy woke and stretched, having had a delicious dream that lingered, along with the smile on her face. It wasn't the usual; in this one the boy got the girl and everything was right with the world. Silly, she knew, but she'd cling to the feeling as long as she could. Blinking away the sleep, she reached for the clock on the bedside table and checked the time: 11:09 a.m. Time to get up and fuel herself for the day with frosty cereal goodness.

With unusual energy, at least of late, Buffy toed on her fluffy mules - a gag gift from Dawn for last Christmas - and headed down to the kitchen. She paused on the stairwell; something was different. She cocked her head, listening. No sounds, but that didn't necessarily mean that there wasn't somebody around. Closing her eyes she concentrated, following her instincts, feet moving towards the stairway that led to the attic. As she reached for the banister and placed her foot on the bottom step, the sound of a door being wrenched open to her left made her jump.

"Buffy!" Giles squealed, wrapping his dressing gown around his middle hastily. "I wasn't aware that you were awake. Did you sleep well?" His eyes darted from Buffy to the top of the stair, hidden in shadow.

"Huh? Oh, yeah - good, actually. Giles, do you hear something? From up there?" Buffy pointed up the stairs to the attic.

"Bats!" Giles spat out. "We have bats - they're ... um...they're protected. You can't go up there!"

"Oh, right. No worries. Shall I make some tea?" Seeming satisfied with Giles' hastily improvised explanation for the tingling of her Spidey sense, Buffy turned and headed downstairs.

Giles looked heavenward and sagged against the doorjamb. "I'm getting too bloody old for this crap," he whispered, before following Buffy downstairs.

It was only after Giles poured his second cup of tea that Buffy realised he shouldn't have been there. "What's with the homeyness, Giles? I thought you were indispensable, that the Council would fold without you?" She sipped at her own tea slowly, eyeing Giles over the rim of the gimmick mug Dawn had given her, another attempt to raise a smile that had failed. It was black with red writing proclaiming ‘Chosen One comma The'.

Giles blushed hotly, desperately trying to think up a suitable excuse while swallowing down the rush of confession that kept choking him to get out. He had barely slept despite his exhaustion at the late night, and the knowledge that Spike was just a few feet away from them had his nerves jumping. It was imperative that he get out of the house, and preferably that he took Buffy with him. Babbling about some down time and some sort of refit of his office, he suggested impulsively that they spend the day together, his treat - whatever Buffy wanted to do.

Of course, Buffy wanted to shop, and with a fixed smile that didn't quite hide the terror in his eyes, Giles set down his cup with shaking hands and headed off to get dressed.

Buffy pondered for a moment on the strangeness that was Giles, but then shrugged and rushed off to change too. After all, shopping with somebody else's credit card was an opportunity you didn't turn down, no matter how odd things seemed.

+ + + +

Exhausted, almost bankrupt, and arching his back to work out the kinks caused by carrying Buffy's purchases halfway across London, Giles made his way wearily up the stairs to his room. Buffy remained downstairs, emptying her bags on the kitchen table in post-shopping bliss, and chattering away happily to Dawn who was perched, bleary-eyed, on the kitchen counter. On his way past the upper stairway, Giles paused, tempted to creep up to the attic and check in on Spike, but it would only be another hour or so before Buffy left for work anyway and it wouldn't do to give the game away at this late stage. Turning away, he shuffled to his room and closed the door gratefully, thinking to snatch a couple of hours of sleep before Willow and Xander returned to hatch the plan.

Dawn nibbled nervously on her fingernails as Buffy continued to parade items of clothing and shoes in front of her. It was nice to see her sister in a good mood, but she was anxious to catch up with Giles, find out where Spike was, having gone to bed last night without even thinking about the practicalities of what he would do. She'd barely made it on time to meet up with her friend, Sarah, and yawned her way through the long anticipated museum tour they'd planned for months, leaving early and reaching home only a few minutes before an animated Buffy and dumbstruck Giles crashed through the front door. She tried to slip out of the kitchen to pose her questions, but Buffy was completely absorbed in her show and tell of shopping and every time Dawn rose to leave, Buffy grabbed her back with a squeal of "I must show you this - couldn't you just die! - and I have it in three colours" or something similar.

By the time Buffy had raced upstairs with her purchases to get ready for work, the steady sound of snoring coming from Giles' room made it clear Dawn wasn't going to get any answers for a while, so she sulked and plopped herself down in front of the TV to watch Jerry Springer.

Buffy selected an outfit carefully, feeling lighter in mood than she had in what seemed forever, even applying some makeup and wearing her hair slightly curled and arranged rather than snatched back. She found that she was actually looking forward to going to work for once and thanked whatever had possessed Giles to take the day off for giving her the opportunity to spend a carefree day with him and to take steps towards re-connecting with her life.

At that thought, her smile faltered a little, her eyes darting to the chest of drawers in the far corner and the varied objects arranged lovingly on its surface. She closed her eyes and fought hard to ignore the call to touch, to smell, the well-worn remnants of her love, for if she did so all her efforts of today would be lost. She whispered "sorry", feeling guilty, but promised herself that she would linger later. As soon as her shift was done, she'd take off the bright clothes and the bright smile and immerse herself again in thoughts of things that should have been.

+ + + +

The minute Buffy closed the front door behind her, Dawn leapt up from the couch and sprinted up the stairs. She didn't care if Giles was sleeping or not, she couldn't wait any longer. She banged on his door until a gruff voice snapped, "Alright! I'm coming - I'm coming!" Giles pulled open the door and stuck his head through the gap, without his glasses and with his hair rumpled and looking decidedly tetchy.

"Yes! What is it?" he spat out, squinting to bring his visitor in focus. When he realised it was Dawn, he pulled his dressing gown tighter about him and tried to smooth his hair. "Oh, Dawn. I'm sorry - I was rather more tired than I thought. Is there a problem?"

Dawn stifled a scream. "Ohhh, no, not really. I was just wondering...WHERE'S SPIKE!" She screeched the last bit, her patience finally frayed beyond bearing. Giles took a step back, away from the harpy at his door.

"Shhh!" he admonished, "Buffy..."

"Buffy has gone to work, Xander and Willow will be here in half an hour and will you just tell me where Spike is?"

"In the attic," Giles answered, matter-of-factly. "He may need some blood, maybe you'd check with him while I get tidied up, source out a butcher. I'll be down in a moment."

Dawn was speechless. Spike had been in the attic all day, and she'd wasted her time on a cultural tour? Giles would find he had another shopping trip to finance and very soon, but for now, she had a friendship to revive. She hadn't even got two steps up the stairs before the creak of the attic hatch being opened stopped her, and Spike dropped down without using the stairs, grinning madly as he straightened up and smoothed back his hair.

"Evenin', Niblet. Big sis skedaddled then? About bloody time, I'm famished and bored out of my skull - what kind of man has a tidy attic with no soddin' books hidden away in dusty corners? Evil, that's what it is."

Dawn giggled. It made her heart swell to see Spike, larger than life as always, swagger in place as he descended the stairs shouting abuse to Giles as he passed his door. All at once, everything was right with her world again and she hugged herself happily as she imagined Buffy's reaction when she saw Spike. Hearts and flowers and tweeting bluebirds raced across Dawn's imagination as she followed Spike into the kitchen.

Giles found the two of them laughing and nudging each other, Dawn's threat to burn Spike if he hurt Buffy obviously forgotten or at least forgiven. Dawn's eyes sparkled, and Giles smiled to himself as he watched from the doorway. Spike being back obviously made at least one Summers woman happy.

"Kettle's on. China cup or mug?" Spike asked, rising from his chair and making his way to the stove. "Bit - you want a refill?"

Dawn nodded and shoved her own gimmick mug across the table towards him. Spike snorted as he picked it up - neon-glow green with black lettering ‘Hi, I'm The Key - do I fit your lock?'

Dawn grinned. Buffy got it for me, but I don't think she actually thought it through. I think it's kinda rude."

Spike grinned and shook his head. "I leave you for a few months and you go to rack and ruin." Dawn shrugged in response, leaning over to steal a cookie from the open packet in the middle of the table. Having received no response from Giles, Spike selected a dainty china cup and saucer and reached for a teabag, accompanied by the Watcher's strangled gasp. "Problem, Rupes?" He paused, the teabag dangled over the cup as he noted Giles' discomfort.

"Erm...no..no...it's fine. I just usually...well, I have my own blend. Loose tea, not bags. The top shelf, right hand cupboard. But...it's fine, I'll drink...whatever you give me."

Spike threw back his head and laughed. "Rupert, Rupert - did I tell you how much I missed this anal behaviour? I'd forgotten how possessive you were about your tea. Of course, I'll brew up all proper like, teapot warmed and all. Please - sit down."

Giles sat, muttering under his breath about uncouth vampires in such a whining tone that it had Dawn rolling her eyes and making faces at Spike as he waited for the kettle to boil. Spike's growling stomach reminded them all that tea might be fine and dandy, but the vampire needed more than a cup of Rosie Lee to keep him functioning.

"Got any Weetabix?" Spike queried, opening cupboards at random. "Or any blood for that matter."

Giles was about to reply that no, blood was in short supply, when Dawn got up and opened the freezer, digging around at the back before turning round triumphantly with two bags of AB+. "Yep, blood we have. Should be alright...been here a while..." She smiled at Spike's look of astonishment. "What? Have you ever been to my house and I didn't have dinner bagged up for you? Just ‘cause you were dead, like really, didn't mean I forgot."

There was a breathless moment while Dawn's bottom lip wobbled and Spike's eyes misted over, broken when Spike grabbed Dawn into a bone-crushing hug and she squealed for him to let her go when breathing became an issue. Efficient with long practice, Dawn warmed the blood in the microwave, setting down a plain mug in front of Spike and promising him that he would get his own special message to welcome him home.

Before the mug was drained, the door knocker heralded the arrival of Willow and Xander who settled themselves around the table, Willow grabbing a pad from her bag along with an assortment of bright highlighters and arranging her educational tools in front of her. She intended to do full justice to the renewed Scooby meeting and only regretted that she hadn't had time to knock up a PowerPoint presentation to illustrate her plan. Utilising many pages, all with tags to show the contents of the pad easily, Willow advised caution and many consultations with Buffy to ease her gently into a world where Spike was still with them. She even had a map of the area, a whimsical ‘You are Here' arrow locating Giles' London house and the route plotted out to Buffy's bar with a pink neon marker.

After a few minutes listening with head tilted, arms crossed and lips pursed, Spike pushed back his chair and left the room. He returned scant seconds later with his duster settled around him, rummaging on the counter for the keys to Giles' car. At the quizzical looks he found when he turned around, he smirked and headed to the door, stopping dramatically in the hallway and facing the puzzled group.

"Softly, softly, you say, Red? Well, you all dragged me here when that was my exact plan so you know what I say? Bugger that."

Even running full pelt they barely caught the vampire before he floored the accelerator and pointed the Range Rover in the helpfully pointed out direction of Mandi's Meeting Place.

TBC

LAST ORDERS


CHAPTER FOUR



Buffy smiled as she placed the curry, rice and chips in front of the diners in the corner booth. The English seemed to have strange tastes in food, but she was getting used to serving the meals without a grimace. She was still feeling quite optimistic about the future, despite the fact that she was completely swamped with orders and had barely had time to sip her drink since she’d walked through the door. Geno had given her a very appreciative wolf whistle when she’d removed her heavy coat and she’d nodded in acknowledgement, feeling – for once – like maybe she didn’t have such a bad life after all.




She knew the feeling wouldn’t last past the return to her bedroom and the long, lonely hours of the night when her mind wouldn’t rest but tortured her with images of Spike and what could have, should have, been. But for now, she could simply be satisfied with being somewhere familiar and keeping her mind off the ever present vampire that loomed large.




By the time her break came around, she had to remove her shoes and massage her swollen feet before she could even sit down. Her ears were buzzing with the loud, pumping music that was the trademark of Friday nights at Mandi’s and she couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent vampire activity that had the back of her neck prickling. With all the sounds and smells and sheer volume of people around, Buffy wrote the feeling off as simply confusion of the senses and gulped her iced water noisily, digging into the plate of curly fries and dip that balanced on her knee and chewing distractedly. As she sat, she contemplated what had got Giles so freaked earlier that he’d actually allowed her to run amok with his credit card. It must be pretty big, because he didn’t even baulk when she bought the most garish pair of shoes she could find, trying to provoke him into a ‘if a fashion magazine told her to strap cats to her feet, she would’ comment. No. Nothing. Very strange.




Geno bellowed for her before long, so she cleared away her plate and glass and washed her hands, checking that she didn’t look too horrific before going out front again.




As she pushed through the swing doors from the kitchen area, Buffy stopped dead, assaulted by a feeling she thought never to experience again. Obviously, the Powers had decided that her attempt at moving on with her life was not a good idea and were now messing with her to such an extent that her slayer senses were convinced that if she searched the room, she’d find Spike.




She growled, making a man on the end bar stool fall off, and muttering a hasty ‘sorry’, hurried past to clear plates. She was so engrossed in her task that it took a few shouts from Willow before she registered her presence, spinning round with empty plates balanced on her hands.




“Willow! Hi! I thought you were on a retreat?”




”Yep, I was. Came back early and thought I’d come catch up. You’re looking mighty fine, Miss Summers. Better watch yourself as I’m between babes right now.” Willow grinned to press home that she was only joking. Hot as she was, Buffy Summers was far too high maintenance for Willow Rosenberg.




Oh. And then there was the vampire…




Buffy dumped the plates and hugged Willow, a wide smile splitting her face. “‘I’m so glad you came, I’ve missed you! And you could have fleeced Giles with me if you’d come home earlier. Check out this outfit – all courtesy of Bank of Giles, I swear. He was majorly freaky today so I took advantage. Wish I could feel guilty.” She giggled and Willow smiled back.




Buffy grabbed the plates again and walked towards the kitchen, Willow keeping her company. ”You here on your own, Will?” Buffy asked.




Willow blushed. Why on earth Giles had sent her ahead to talk to Buffy, she’d never know, as she was the worst liar ever in the whole of time. It took all the self-control that she had not to blurt out the fact that deep in the shadows at the back of the bar was Spike, bouncing up and down like a jack-in-the-box, barely restrained by Giles on one side and Xander on the other. Horrified, Willow focused on Buffy’s questioning face and garbled something about no, Xander was with her and would Buffy join them on her break? Buffy bit her lip, her break just having finished, but nodded. Geno would let her do anything once she flashed him a smile and a pout.




By the time Willow extricated herself and scurried off, she was sweating and shaking, sinking into her seat and grabbing Xander’s beer to down it in one before she could even speak.




Spike couldn’t wait past ten seconds before he shoved Giles out of the way and grabbed Willow ’s hand, forcing her to look at him. ”Well? What did she say?”




Willow was still in shock and the beer had gone straight to her head. “Huh? Who said?” She stared at Spike, completely at a loss for a second or two before recalling why they were there. ”Oh! Buffy! Erm…yeah, she’ll come over when she’s on a break.”




“Right then. Good.” Spike settled back into his seat and tried to relax, one Doc Marten tapping time on the table edge until Xander knocked his booted foot off his knee. A tussle broke out between the two that forced an intervention from Dawn, Willow, and Giles, and it took a further round of drinks to settle them down, the three more sensible of the group separating the two testosterone-fuelled males around the table.







Just as Spike was about to vault the table and go in search of Buffy, patience being the least of his virtues, the lady in question appeared, breathless and flushed, in front of the booth, smiling widely and removing her apron. She spotted Dawn and started to rip into her for being in a pub when her eyes were drawn to the figure she’d memorised and that haunted her every living minute. Her tirade faltered and stopped as her brain caught up with her eyes, her legs shaking so hard that she staggered forward and leaned on the table top.




“Spike?” Buffy whispered, scarcely audible in the noisy pub, not even blinking in case that made him disappear. The Scoobies switched their gaze from Buffy to Spike, anticipating his response, nerves shredded. His smile was almost beatific, blazing out from the darkness in its intensity. They all held their breath until he answered.




“Evenin’, pet.” Hardly Shakespearean as comeback speeches go, but definitely Spike. Dawn giggled, earning her a raised eyebrow and a quick smirk from the vampire, and a glare from her sister. Like watching a tennis match, attention moved from the vampire to the slayer, awaiting her return volley.




“Are you…are you real? What are you doing here? Where have you been? Are you dead? I mean…of course you are… you are, aren’t you?” Buffy delivered her questions in a rush of husky whispers, eyes never leaving him. Giles stood and guided her to a chair, fearing imminent collapse as she appeared not to be breathing. Buffy uncharacteristically allowed herself to be tugged forward, sinking into the chair gratefully having never stopped gazing at Spike.




Before Giles could regain his seat, Spike stood and pushed past him, sitting on the edge of the table mere inches away from Buffy and looking at her hungrily. He inhaled to settle his nerves before speaking. “Yeah, ‘m real. Yep, still dead. The where I’ve been…that’s the tricky part.”




Suddenly Buffy leant forward and grabbed his knee, fingers digging painfully into his flesh. “But you’re staying, right? I mean – no going ‘pouf!’ or anything?”




Spike grinned. “Far as I know, I’ve got me that slice of immortality again, same old vampire lifespan.”




Buffy smiled, her eyes filled with the spark that had been missing for so long, gazing adoringly at Spike and completely ignoring the sniffling that came from Dawn as she watched from the far side of the table. Even Xander was affected by the reunion, surreptitiously wiping at his good eye, although he’d deny it if challenged. Willow was hugging on to Dawn’s arm and trying to stop her wobbling bottom lip, sniffing too as the tenderness between the two warriors gave everybody warm, happy feelings. Giles sat back in his seat and crossed his arms smugly, full in the knowledge that when all was done, Buffy would thank him for bringing Spike back to her – after she'd slapped him about, of course for keeping her in the dark in the first place.




Spike was speaking softly, Buffy rapt with attention, her hand still on his knee but now covered with his, their fingers interlaced. Dawn was simply ecstatic; she’d known it would all go smoothly, that true love would out, and here were all her dreams coming true.




Or not.




Buffy jumped to her feet, the chair toppling backwards with a clatter, her eyes no longer warm, but full of hurt. Spike stood, holding out his hands imploringly.




“Love, let me explain…I thought it was for the best. Couldn’t touch anything, couldn’t even leave Peaches’ side at first. Couldn’t bloody use a telephone, could I, with ghosty fingers, and don’t think I didn’t try.”




Buffy struggled to keep calm, her fists clenched at her sides. “Okay, say I let it go that you didn’t have somebody tell me you were back – what happened then? How long was that for? You’re not all see-through now, look pretty solid to me.”




Spike took a deep breath, old habits dying hard, his eyes flicking over Dawn and Willow clutching each other with mouths open, Xander nodding encouragingly, and Giles taking comfort from the well-worn ritual of cleaning his glasses. Nothing left to do now, but tell the lady exactly why, when undying love had been sworn, he’d not raced to her side the minute he could.




“Thing is, Buffy – see, after Sunnydale, I was a hero, died saving the world. The resurrection lark was a bit unexpected and I railed and kicked at it, but there was nothing I could do ‘cept suck it up and wait and see. And the longer I stayed and watched those people fighting and fighting…well, I got a new perspective, didn’t I? Every day they dealt with the devil and every morning they started again, and I was part of it, making a difference. Not just tolerated – folks liked me, relied on me. I was needed, appreciated even.”




Buffy crossed her arms, her lips set in a hard line. “We fight evil. We fight lots of evil, you were there, fighting it with us. I remember.” Her last words were tinged with bitterness and also a challenge. Spike dipped his head, afraid to meet her eyes.




“It wasn’t the same. You know it. In LA, I was part of the gang, not just a dog waiting for scraps. Even Angel gave me some respect towards the end there.”




Buffy flipped, stamping her foot and screeching, shrugging off Giles’ attempt to calm her as the heads of the diners whipped round to see what the commotion was. “You lived in my home, you looked after my sister, we were…” Buffy’s voice caught as the emotion overwhelmed her. “We were…I thought we were…that last night…”




“Thought we were what, Buffy?” Spike bit his lip, nervously chewing on the flesh as he waited for her answer. Her friends had given him hope that this thing between them was real, but would she admit it, out loud, in front of everybody? Actually dare to say that she felt something for him? If she did, it would be the first time ever and he ached for the words to tumble out. Her eyes showed the conflict she was fighting inside and Spike reached for her, only to be rebuffed by her hand quickly slapping his away.




“You’ve no idea what I’ve been through since you’ve been gone,” Buffy whispered, her eyes filled with tears. “Every day, touching your things, trying to remember your face, clutching on to your clothes just to smell your scent – making myself crazy and crying myself to sleep into my pillow. And you were here, not being bothered to see me. Guess I was right the first time – you’re an evil, undead thing and you can’t love.” With a raw sob, Buffy stalked away, closely followed by Spike and after a short delay to recover from the shock, the Scoobies.




Dawn mumbled to Willow as they followed the vampire, “That went well, huh?” and grimaced at the witch’s hesitant shrug. They caught up to Buffy and Spike just outside the entrance, the two superheroes engaged in a bitter shouting match that was a harsh word away from descending into blows.




“I told you I loved you – held your hand and told you! Flames, linked fingers, remember?” Buffy snarled at Spike, her hands bunched into fists.




Spike assumed a very familiar, and very arrogant pose, hips thrust forward, one hand ghosting down his chest to rest on his belt, his mouth running off with itself despite his brain’s best efforts to head it off. “Yeah, love. I remember – but let’s face it, it’s not the first time you’ve said something you didn’t mean, right?” Spike was horrified with himself, but it was too late. Buffy gasped, hurt and angry, and slapped him hard across the face. Before anybody could move, Buffy and Spike were involved in a bruising tussle, complete with snark and growls that had the onlookers huddled together.




Dawn was inconsolable, all her plans disintegrating to nothing, and to top all that, it was entirely possible that she’d lose either a sister or a friend in the vicious battle now taking place. She tried screeching, but it had no effect. In the end, after much imploring, Willow took pity on the girl and intoned a small spell that pulled the combatants apart to land a few feet away from each other. Both were panting and bruised, glaring at each other…




…but there was more than anger and hatred in that look. Willow bit her lip and smiled smugly. If she wasn’t very much deceived, they’d just witnessed vampire and slayer foreplay. All they had to do was wait…




Buffy had other ideas, however. Her head was muzzy and aching, the emotion and shock she’d experienced in the last half hour taking its toll. She wanted to run and cling to him, wrap him tight and never let him go, but how could she when he’d so obviously cared so little for her that he’d let her carry on thinking he was gone when he’d been back and living an entirely different life without her.




So, in time honoured Buffy fashion, instead of running towards him, she ran away.




Spike stared after her, jaw open, until he recovered himself and ground his teeth together, turning to the group of shell-shocked friends. “Told you it was a bad idea, Rupert. Still, least I know where I stand now. Fucked, that’s what I am, and not in a good way. So, I’ll need a ride to your gaff to collect my stuff then I’ll be off, probably look Faith up, see if she and that wanker she’s shacked up with need a hand in Cleveland.” His words were hard, but his eyes were suspiciously misty, his jaw working against the emotions he couldn’t hide from them.




Dawn rushed to stand in front of him. “You’re not giving up?” she queried, gripping his arm and forcing him to look at her. “You know she’s just shocked, right? Buffy doesn’t do well with surprises, you know that. She’ll calm down, Spike. Please?”




Spike gave her a wry grin. “No can do, Bit. Been there, done that – can’t do it again. I told you – I’m done playing kick-the-Spike. She’s not changed, I have. I’m sorry, I really am.”




Dawn folded her arms and pouted. “So, this is it? All those times you’ve cried on my shoulder and told me how much you love Buffy and you give up after one measly fight? Thought you said sparring with Buffy was like third base?”




Giles cleared his throat with embarrassment, Xander only stopped from prodding the vampire to protest that statement by Willow ’s restraining hand. She knew from past experience that if anybody could wheedle and persuade Spike to do something he didn’t want to, it was Dawn. And although at first Willow had become involved in Dawn’s plan reluctantly, now that she’d had the chance to see the spark return to Buffy’s eyes and had even admitted, albeit just to herself, that she’d really missed Spike in a strange way, she desperately wanted things to work out. Somebody deserved some happiness.




Eventually, as Willow predicted, Dawn’s charms worked on Spike enough to persuade him to return with them, although he refused to go to Giles’ London home. After much protestation, Xander was volunteered to lend the vampire a bed for the night and the unhappy housemates sulked petulantly as they made their way out of the pub. Spike wouldn’t be pressed on whether or not he’d see Buffy, refusing to join in any further conversation on the subject and growling quite menacingly when Dawn opened her mouth to whine one last time.




As the weary crowd headed back to the Range Rover, however, Willow gave herself a small self hug. Despite much evidence to the contrary, she still believed in the power of true love – and she finally allowed herself to accept that the feelings between the slayer and the slayer of slayers was just that.




tbc

LAST ORDERS




CHAPTER 5




Buffy stormed into the house and slammed the door, warping the doorjamb as she did so. Taking the stairs two at a time she hurled herself into her bedroom and bounced face down on the bed, taking huge gulps of air in an effort to stop the tears that choked her.




She failed; her eyes were closed and swollen by the time she’d managed to stop sobbing.




Spike. He was back. Had been back for at least a year by his own admission. Hadn’t bothered to contact her.




The tears started again and she let them flow until she had no more left. Her cheeks ached, her teeth too. It wasn’t unusual, Buffy conceded, for thoughts of Spike to result in tears. Since Sunnydale it was more or less the norm, although she’d fought hard to conceal the true depth of her misery from her sister and her friends. And now he was here and everything had gone wrong. And after he'd gone to all the trouble to come find her...how on earth had Spike found her anyway? Wasn’t like she was where he’d last left her, because that would be fleeing for her life and leaving him burning in his soul’s fire. No. Best not to contemplate that, her eyes wouldn’t stand any more moisture. But how did he guess where she was? She wasn't listed, no 'Slayers-r-us' entry in the directory, and she doubted the newly formed council would assist him, even if he had contacted them. Maybe Angel? No, that wouldn't happen this side of hell freezing over.




With a chill of certainty, Buffy realised that Dawn, Giles, all of them had colluded, doing what they thought was best for her as usual. Had they all known for all that time that Spike was back, had watched her grieve and wish for an end? Were they having meetings behind her back, trying to structure her life for their convenience? No, Dawn wouldn't...she thought she wouldn't; she just didn't know anything any more. Again she cried, but didn’t know why; this time their interference probably was the best for her She should be happy; the love of her life was restored to her and she had been inches away from his cool caress this evening. But instead she was alone and desolate, pride and the feeling of betrayal that she couldn’t shake cloaking her in misery. As if on remote control, she shuffled off the bed and found herself standing before her makeshift shrine. Her hand automatically reached for the journal and the scraps of material that had long since lost his scent, the charcoal drawings, crumpled from when she’d ripped them down from his crypt, horrified that he had the very same thing going for her. A shrine.




The soft click of her door had her tensing her back. She didn’t turn round, her entire body screaming ‘leave me alone ’, but kid sisters have a free pass for that one, so it didn’t apply to Dawn who closed the door and leaned against it. She didn’t speak until Buffy turned to face her.




“Are you done?” Dawn questioned, eyes flinty and arms crossed. “Happy now?”




“What?” Buffy gasped out, hurt that her sister was attacking rather than consoling. “Why would I be happy, Dawn? Oh, let’s see, I forgot – the man I’ve been grieving for is back in living colour. Yay me. But no – that can’t be right because if he was back, he would have run to my side the minute he could, wouldn’t he, not hung about with strangers and not even told me? And my friends, my sister – surely they would have told me as soon as they found out and end my suffering? When exactly was that, Dawn? Were you all having a good old party on the moral high ground for the past year, keeping the crazy slayer from the arms of her sick and disgusting demon lover? No answer, huh?” Buffy was almost purple faced from her rant, and Dawn had no idea how to reply, so didn't bother. “Thought not. Scooby silence it is then. So yeah, I’m ecstatic, thanks.”




Dawn snorted, plopping herself down on Buffy’s bed and looking at her older sister with Joyce’s wise eyes now that the tantrum had ended. “Buffy. You wanna work that one out in your head a little?” Dawn spoke softly, her voice slightly amused. “I get that you're mad at us, and believe me, when Giles dropped his little bombshell a couple of days ago I showed him what the wrath of Dawn felt like. Nearly broke my hand on his stiff upper lip, but...anyway. Giles knew about Spike being back all last year, we didn't. When we did, we got him to come see you. And maybe we should have just told you and let you figure it out yourself, but we didn't so that's it. If you wanna freeze me out, go right ahead. Wouldn't be the first time, and I'll deal, we all will. But Buffy, what exactly are you mad at Spike for right this minute? The fact that he's back or the fact that he didn’t tell you he was back?”




Buffy frowned, not sure she understood the question. “I don’t get you.”




“It’s simple,” Dawn explained in Giles mode, “are you glad Spike’s back?”




Buffy nodded, not meeting Dawn’s eyes. “Of course I am.”




“Then you’re mad at him for not getting in touch.”




“Yes.” Buffy’s voice was high and tight with emotion. “He said he loved me…he said...he said he'd never leave me. And he burned, and I told him how I felt and he didn't believe me. And all this time I could have had a second chance to show him, and he didn't love me enough to let me try...” The words trailed off into a whisper.




Dawn stood and walked towards Buffy, reaching out a hand to stroke her arm. “He does, Buffy. Believe me, he does. Give him a chance to explain?”




Buffy refused to look up. She felt stupid now it had all been broken down for her. She’d reacted badly to the revelation that Spike was back, not even letting him tell her why he hadn’t been in touch. Despite all her promises to herself, all her daydreaming, that if only she could see him things would be different, when it came right down to it, she’d kicked him in the head and ran away. She supposed it was an improvement in that it was only a metaphorical kick in the head but still. She’d blown it, again. “Is he here?” Buffy asked, already moving towards the door, her pulse quickening.




“No,” Dawn stated. “He … he wouldn’t come.”




“Oh.” Buffy’s hand dropped from the doorknob, her shoulders slumped. “Right.”




“But he’ll come back tomorrow, I’m sure he will,” Dawn hastened to reassure her. She just hoped she was right; Spike was pretty dejected by Buffy’s reaction.




There was now an uneasy silence, both sisters scared to say more, for in doing so they could make their fears solid. Buffy walked past Dawn and rifled in a drawer for her pyjamas. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”




“Yeah, you should…I should. Sleep is of the good. Sleeping and dreaming, always good. So that’s… good.” Dawn was babbling in a manner that wouldn’t embarrass Willow, shaking herself to break her geek trance before quickly striding over to Buffy and placing a soft kiss on her sister’s cheek.




Whether either of them would sleep or dream was another matter entirely.




+ + + +




There had been little sleep had in Xander’s apartment, there being three occupants when it was only meant for one. Ever gallant, Xander had given up his bed to Willow again, and that left the couch to be squabbled over by himself and Spike. When Xander pointed out the chair in the corner, almost identical to the one that Spike had spent some uncomfortable nights being tied to in Xander’s parents’ basement in Sunnydale, a heated argument ensued and Willow had been forced to threaten them both with a silencing spell. When that didn’t work, the bleary-eyed witch muttered something about men thinking with their trouser parts, being all testosterone fuelled and such, and that she’d take their parts away if they didn’t let her sleep. Both males sulking, Xander had eventually lost out to Spike and hunched himself up on the chair for an uncomfortable couple of hours, trying to ignore Spike’s whispered taunts until they both finally fell into exhausted slumber.




When they awoke, they’d just carried on baiting each other and Willow shrouded herself with a muffling charm that tuned most of it out. As the day wore on and there appeared to be no sign of Spike making moves to go and see Buffy, Willow managed to persuade Xander to check out what was going through Spike’s mind.




Nothing, apparently, apart from whatever trash he could find on the TV.




After being ignored and sneered at in equal measure by the vampire for even suggesting that Spike may want to give some thought to how he would make things right, Xander threw up his arms and admitted defeat.



“Willow, you speak to him. I’m done. Not like I care ANYWAY!” Xander bellowed the last word past Willow’s shoulder so that it reached the ‘him’ in question, Spike gifting Xander with the v-sign and a ‘fuck off’ for good measure.




Willow shook her head at the boys’ antics, but secretly was encouraged. If Xander and Spike were snarking, surely things were going back to normal? And normal for Spike was loving Buffy. All she had to do was get Spike Buffy-adjacent and let nature do the rest. Didn’t she?




So, she’d better get to that then. What would entice Spike near to Buffy?




“Who fancies a drink?” she offered, brittle smile on her lips.




“Nice try, Red. Not workin’ though. I’m done being the Slayer’s chew toy. Only stayin’ here so’s I can make plans, get old Rupes to set me up with some dosh by way of a leaving gift. You could order in though, wouldn’t say no to a shot of Jack with you.”




Willow thought fast, because staying in was not part of her game plan. “But...but…I’m hungry. You must be hungry, Xander. We could go get a bite to eat, have a few drinks. I’ll call Giles. You don’t want to stay cooped up in here, do you?”




“Give it up, pet. I’m not goin’ to that bar no matter how prettily you beg. Nothin’ you can say or do will make me set foot in there again.”




Willow huffed. “Oh now you’re just being difficult. And I know you’re dying to go and see her, so don’t mess with me. Be sensible, Spike.”




“Bein’ sensible, first time in bloody ever where Buffy’s concerned. ‘sides, she knows where I am if she wants to see me. I’m a modern vamp, ‘m not gonna go all shy if a lady wants to make the first move. Won’t hold my breath though…oh, right, haven’t got any to hold.”




Seeing Spike and hearing his trademark wit forced a reluctant smile on her face. Willow could almost visualise the sitting room at Revello Drive around them, its familiar furnishings rather than the bachelor minimalism that Xander’s small apartment had. It was comfortable, familiar. Before she could help it, she heard herself speak.




“I’ve really missed you, Spike.”




Xander did a double take worthy of an Abbott and Costello sketch and Spike shot her a look equal parts shock and affection. But it was only the truth. And surprisingly, her spontaneous outburst seemed to do the trick.




Spike ruffled his hair as he sauntered past Willow with a swagger, heading for the kitchen. He shouted back over his shoulder while waiting for his blood to heat in the microwave, “Suppose I could sink a pint or two, Red. Keep you and the whelp company if you like. Not like I have to speak to the Slayer, do I? Might not even see her. Just a few drinks, bein’ sociable, that’s all.”




Willow grinned shouting back ‘sure!’ and running into the corridor to call Giles and Dawn to make sure Buffy would be at Mandi’s.




+ + + +




By the time Giles returned from work, Dawn was pacing the hallway nervously, biting her nails to bloody shreds. Buffy had been like a statue all day, was still in her pyjamas even though it was gone four o’clock and had been staring at the wall almost unblinking for the past hour. Dawn had tried everything: chocolate, ice cream, telling Buffy she’d borrowed her best silk sweater and ripped it on the sleeve – but nothing got a reaction. Dawn was shaken by that, but more so by the fact that Spike hadn’t come bursting into the house swearing undying love the minute the sky grew dark. That’s why she was lying in wait in the hall.




“Oh. It’s just you. I thought…never mind.”




“Sorry to be a disappointment, Dawn. I take it you were expecting someone else?” Giles asked as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up, stashing his briefcase below the hall table.




“You know I was! Have you heard anything?”




“No. And I haven’t pressed the issue. To be honest, I don’t know which of them is more stubborn, and I don’t really care to find out. I think we’ll just have to…”




The shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted Giles’ speech, and he reached to answer, grateful for the reprieve from Dawn’s wobbling bottom lip and tearful eyes.




“Yes, hello? Willow. How are things at your – oh! You have? Well, yes, I think we can do that. No, I’ve just got in, Dawn’s been…yes, I’ll hand you over.” He offered the receiver to Dawn and moved past her to see for himself the state of his slayer.




Buffy didn’t acknowledge his presence, continuing to stare at the wall. The living room was in darkness save for the flicker from the television screen, and Buffy was hugging her knees on the couch. She screwed her eyes up in reaction to Giles turning on the light, but didn’t speak.




“Buffy. How are you feeling?”




She shrugged, hugging her knees even tighter, not looking at him.




Giles decided to try a different tack. “You know, it’s getting late. You’d better get a move on if you don’t want to be late for work.”




“Not going,” she muttered, barely audibly.




“Nonsense! Of course you must go, people are…are relying on you to be at the pub. It’s your duty.”




The glare she shot his way froze him as he was reaching to pat her arm. He drew his hand back as if burnt, waiting for the tirade to assault his ears. It didn’t. Her voice was cold and calm when she spoke.




“Duty? How dare you talk to me about duty. Haven’t I lost enough of my life to duty?” Buffy sighed, her shoulders slumped again, the animation in her face gone. “I’ve had enough of duty, Giles. Hasn’t gotten me anywhere except rock bottom. So no – I don’t think I will be going to the pub, sorry. There’s no point. No point to anything really…”




Tears trickled down Buffy’s face, and it broke Giles’ heart to see it. He avoided meeting her eyes, hating himself and feeling guilty for hiding the fact of Spike’s resurrection from her. She could have had happiness, he supposed, in some short measure at least. But truthfully, he wasn’t all to blame. He doubted anybody would be able to engineer a smooth reunion between such a stubborn couple, both of them not wanting to be the one to make the first move and both of them hiding their true feelings from friends and family, not to mention themselves.




He was determined to make things right, though. No matter what it took, he would get Buffy to the pub where she would talk to Spike and they would have the happy ending promised to heroes.




Or his name wasn’t Ripper.




+ + + +




In the end it was Dawn’s whining that persuaded Buffy to shower and change, moaning all the while and sulking beyond bearing. It was past the start time of Buffy’s shift when she got to the pub, accompanied by her sister and Giles, but that didn’t really matter as the minute Buffy got behind the bar, she poured herself a double shot of bourbon and gulped it down, refilling her glass even as she pulled a face and stuck out her tongue at the sour, burning taste.




“Bleaaargh!” she shuddered, barely pausing for breath before swallowing more. Giles opened his mouth to protest her reckless actions, but swallowed down the words as he floundered as to what he could say, really. Buffy was an adult, she’d had a tremendous shock, and truthfully, he’d found his own solace in drink in far less trying situations. Maybe he should simply be there for her, should she need to lean on him. He wouldn’t let her down, not again.




He drew the line, however, at Dawn becoming a degenerate drunk, and whipped the shot glass out of her hand before she had time to swallow down the Jack Daniels she’d somehow managed to obtain.




“Giles!” Dawn whined, “I was only keeping Buffy company!”




“I’d rather,” Giles hissed “you kept a clear head, Dawn, given the situation. Willow and Xander will be here shortly with Spike – if all goes to plan, though goodness knows why it should – and let me remind you that we have two abnormally strong beings who may very well try to rip out each other’s throats for all we know… Anyway, one of us needs a level head.” And he downed the shot himself.




Dawn snorted; Giles was so far behind clueless he’d never catch up. Rant and rave as she might, Buffy would never harm Spike – well, not fatally – and Spike would rather stake himself than hurt Buffy. No, it was all going to be alright, she just knew it.




Providing Buffy was still conscious when Spike finally arrived…




tbc

I'm back! Thanks for the lovely feedback I've had for this story. Next chapter for your pleasure - hope you enjoy :)
______________________________



LAST ORDERS




CHAPTER 6




“Here we are!” Willow stated, as ‘Mandi’s Meeting Place’ came into view. Xander parked up and the trio headed into the bar, Spike swaggering the minute he came through the door, his bright eyes darting about in search of the Slayer – although he’d deny it, if asked directly. Willow hid a smile as she walked behind him, Xander shaking his head as she nudged his arm and linked her arm through his, delighted that her plan appeared to be working just fine.




She was uncertain what she should do, though, as the trio entered the pub, still fairly empty as it was early in the evening. Should they go and seek Buffy out, get it over and done with? Or should they stash Spike in a corner with a bottle of booze and play it cool. She knew what Spike would say, and Buffy for that matter, if they were the ones doing the planning. The decision was made for them when Giles came rushing over, flustered and attempting to smooth down his hair and blocking their view of Buffy and Dawn at the bar.




“Ah, Willow, Xander…ahem…fancy meeting you…erm…here. What a coincidence, and you’ve brought Spike too? Good, good, yes, well – we all need a night out, I’ll wager. Why don’t you find seats and I’ll have some drinks brought over. Beer, Xander? And you, Willow – really? Double vodka? Well, if you’re sure…fine, fine. Spike – I can recommend the single malt, Dalwhinnie, if you’ve a mind to savour the good stuff. My treat. Oh – well, yes I suppose I could bring the bottle…”




Giles scurried off, muttering beneath his breath at being taken advantage of. Spike chuckled as they settled themselves in a booth, taking pleasure in the little bits of evil he could do without causing him too much discomfort with his shiny soul. The Big Bad may have been scaled down, had his wings clipped, but he was still there, and about to get free booze no less.




She was there, he knew it. Knew he’d been set up, didn’t give a bugger. Well, he did, but he was kind of grateful anyway. It reminded him of the night Buffy had started to walk away from him in the basement and he’d dashed in front of her at the last minute. Sometimes he wondered if she would have stopped anyway, even if he’d given her the space to go. And would things have been different between them in the short hours they had left if he had let her make the decision without any prompting, would it have allowed her to admit feelings to herself if she’d allowed that small chink in her armour to appear?




Spike’s smile slipped a little as he played out an entirely different scenario in his mind, one where she’d been too stubborn to turn round and he’d been too stubborn to race in front of her before she reached the stairs. The hellmouth would have taken him without him spending that final night wrapped around the slayer, the memory of her warmth sustaining him on his trip to hell.




Willow nudged the vampire, noting his maudlin mood, not wanting him to take off running. He was strung out tight with tension, and if he bolted she knew that it was unlikely even she would be able to do something about it, surrounded as they were by the public, blissfully unaware of vampires and demons and witches that go bump in the night. In fact, the only one who would have half a chance of catching up to him if he ran would be Buffy – and the jury was still out on whether she’d try to.




Dawn had given her some hope of a happy resolution when they’d spoken earlier, but there was no definite about anything to do with Buffy and Spike, never had been, probably never would be. Willow thought back to how disconnected Buffy had been after the massacre in Sunnydale. They’d all lost somebody, left them behind in the crater, but somehow Buffy seemed to have left a little bit of herself behind too, and when everybody else moved on, Buffy didn’t. Every day that passed saw her slipping away from her friends and family; Dawn was right – it would only take a lucky vampire and Buffy would welcome the killing bite.




So here they were, dealing with the awkward silence that was stretching longer and longer…




Giles’ return with a tray full of drinks was welcomed with over-excited glee. Giles didn’t seem to mind, sitting down to join them, but constantly glancing over his shoulder towards the bar. From where Spike was sitting, he couldn’t see the object of Giles’ attention, but he knew who he would find if he stalked over. He almost did, but stopped himself. Oh, he admitted that it was only a matter of time, and if the landlord called last orders he’d be sprinting over to the bar before the bell stopped ringing, but he was proving something to himself by staying put. Besides, the Dalwhinnie was good.




+ + + +




Dawn was becoming increasingly worried. Giles had headed off Willow, Xander and Spike and mumbled something about ‘cheeky buggers’ when he’d returned for drinks, but now she was left all alone with Buffy – and Buffy was making friends with another bottle. It had only been the one time that Dawn had witnessed drunken Buffy, but that had been enough; sisterly love only stretched so far and she paled at the thought of having to hold Buffy’s hair out of the toilet again. And if Buffy got drunk, who knew how she’d react to Spike.




Spike – the Spike sitting not twenty feet from them right now, the Spike who’d loved Buffy for as long as Dawn could remember, almost from the minute she’d been created if you counted time from her debut on this earth as human formed from a mystical key. And the Spike who may very well become part of her history rather than her future if she didn’t manage to get Buffy to shrug off her pity-party and get with the smoochies.




“Hey, don’t you think we should join Giles?” Dawn queried, trying to prise Buffy’s fingers off the bottle of vodka that Buffy had liberated from the bar counter.




“Can’t. I’m workin’…don’t…don’t have a…a break for…for…whatsname…an ‘our…thingy.”




Dawn doubted that Geno would classify what Buffy was doing as work, but still…




“Oh, well – maybe in an hour then. Don’t you think you’ve had enough…” The words slipped out before Dawn could stop them, and she waited for Buffy to bitch slap her for daring to question her. Buffy just snorted and downed a couple of fingers of vodka, neat, screwing up her face and shaking her head.




“Not enough…never enough…d’you…d’you know, I’ve got a secret. Shhh!” Buffy giggled, managing to get her index finger in the vicinity of her pursed lips if not exactly on them.




“No, what is it?” Dawn questioned, wanting to keep Buffy talking so that there’d be less drinking.




“Silly!” Buffy crowed, punching Dawn playfully on the arm, but with slayer force so that the girl fell backwards off the stool and landed in an undignified heap on the floor. “Can’t tell you, can I? It’s a secret!”




Dawn dragged herself up, fighting the urge to lunge at her sister - superhuman powers be damned – and leaned on the bar again, her head in her hands. Where was Giles? A male voice made Dawn look up sharply, but it wasn’t anybody she knew; the poor guy was helpless in Buffy’s crushing grip, listening to her babble about chances lost and how she’d realised too late how special their love was. Dawn tried to convey how sorry she was with her eyes, but the stranger was desperately trying to unlock Buffy’s fingers from his forearm and didn’t respond.




“Drink…need another drink…” Buffy mumbled, releasing her reluctant audience to grab at the bottle that Dawn was trying to stash away, taking a healthy gulp with accompanying soundtrack. A young couple waiting to be served were her next victims, both of them huddling together but unable to avoid her verbal onslaught, nodding vigorously in agreement when Buffy asked them to confirm she was capable of love. Buffy sobbed at that, wrapping them both in a bear hug that almost crushed them, asking their names in barely audible tones.




“Brad…and…and…Janet, ‘s lovely, lovely names. You love each other, y’hear? Never give him a black eye…and…and if you have to save the world, don’t let him…thingie…with an amulet…noooo, not good. ‘kay? Jus’ kiss an’…an’ no biting.” Buffy blinked, her brow furrowed. “Well, okay…biting’s nice, but no kicking. Not in the head. An’ if you get invisibibible…invisibbbbll…if nobody can see you, be naughty.” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and allowing the horrified customers to flee.




Geno popped his head round the kitchen door, opening his mouth to yell for Buffy – but changed his mind as he watched her try to manoeuvre herself further onto a bar stool and ending up kneeling on it, trying to swing her leg over before giving up and clinging to the bar instead. Dawn mouthed ‘sorry’ and tried to look contrite, and Geno slinked away rather than deal with his liquored-up waitress.




Dawn realised that Buffy was sobbing quietly, head resting on her folded arms on the counter, and she quickly moved to hug her sister, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll be alright, Buffy, don’t worry. Shhh, don’t cry.”




Dawn’s heart almost broke clean in two when Buffy swivelled her head to look up with enormous hazel eyes, her bottom lip swollen where she’d chewed on it, her nose red and snotty. “I do love him, you know. Stupid vampire. And now he’s gone, and I made him go and I don’t think I can bear it. He said he loved me…and I broke him…now he doesn’t…”




Xander came up alongside them and slapped the counter, making both girls jump. Buffy sniffled and laid her head back down on her folded arms, so Xander addressed his comments to Dawn. “She still crying over deadboy junior? Let me tell you, he’s not a bundle of laughs either. Giles wants another bottle of scotch, but not so much with the break the bank stuff, ‘cause Spike’s drinking it like water.”




Dawn cleared her throat, indicating with her eyes that he was forgetting about Buffy not knowing that Spike was there. Buffy was deep in her morose musings though, so didn’t respond, and Xander shrugged. To be honest, he thought the best thing would be to just shove them together and remove all pointed objects – or not, as Spike was seriously pissing him off now. In fact, when he’d retrieved the drinks, he was going to suggest it. Pity that there was nobody working the bar, but that was maybe because the waitress was drooling onto the counter and hiccoughing.




“Hello? Anybody back there?” Xander hollered, standing on the foot rest and leaning over the bar. He shuffled along a bit so that he could get a better look, apologising quickly as he knocked somebody to his right, hearing the sound of spilled liquid.




“Sorry! So sorry – just trying to …guh.” His words petered out as he got a glimpse of his victim. Drop dead gorgeous blonde, amused smile threatening to turn into a giggle as she dipped her eyelids and peered up at him. Xander felt his heart rate increase and settled himself down on the bar stool next to her, his mission to refuel the vampire completely forgotten.




Her voice was like molten chocolate when she spoke, and she blushed under his adoring gaze. “I’ve been trying to get a drink for ten minutes, was just about to leave in fact…” The sentence didn’t finish, and Xander discreetly checked her out for signs of demon. None being apparent, he settled in to make her acquaintance, ignoring Dawn’s less than subtle attempts to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing.




+ + + +




“Where is the boy?” Giles muttered, craning his neck to see if Xander was on his way back from the bar.




“Yeah, ‘m out of booze, and if I don’t get more I’ll be cranky,” Spike pouted with a gleam in his eye that didn’t go unnoticed by Willow. He seemed to be enjoying himself actually; maybe it was time to bring Buffy into the conversation because god knew what else they could talk about, having done the weather to death.




“Spike…erm…have you given any more thought to Buffy?”




Spike almost snorted. What a stupid and redundant question. He thought of nothing else, day and night, asleep and awake, burned up in hell or reforming in a swirl of black leather duster. Now was no different; the only thing that had changed was his reaction to her. He was painfully aware of her presence, could close his eyes and see her, scent her unique aroma within the rapidly filling bar, hear her sobbing…sobbing?




“Yeah, Red…thinking of her…” he replied distractedly, straining to hear more.




Willow almost jumped up and punched the air; she knew he was a big faker! “So…will you at least talk to her then, you know, if we bump into her…maybe?”




“Uh huh,” Spike replied, his head tilted, trying to separate out Buffy’s snuffling from the background noise of the bar. The place was filling up fast though, so it was becoming harder to hear anything in the cacophony of noise.




Abruptly, Spike got to his feet, leaving Willow mid-sentence. She jumped up to follow him, as did Giles, but there was a crush of revellers now and they were blocked so that they lost sight of his white-blond head. They were convinced he'd escaped so were relieved when they found him simply standing and staring at Buffy as she detained yet another innocent bystander and regaled him with tales of a thwarted romance.




Spike chuckled softly as they reached him, watching Buffy and listening to her try to condense their somewhat odd relationship into cliched and epic descriptions. He acknowledged his companions’ arrival with a nod at each of them, unable to hide the grin.




“I really love her, you know. Stupid bint.”




Willow grinned with him. “Yeah, we know. Glad you admit it; now, can we get to the smoochies before she keels over?”




Spike gifted Willow with a dazzling smile that tugged at her heartstrings and reminded her of how she smiled when talking about Tara. The vampire really did love the slayer; any doubt she'd had before was now erased, and judging by the misty eyes of Buffy's watcher, he knew it too.




Dawn looked up, seeing Spike and the others over Buffy's shoulder and she swallowed down a squeal of pleasure. At last things were working out as she'd planned. Her gaze darted along the bar to where Xander seemed to be doing very well with an attractive lady. Dawn's hackles raised in anticipation, as Xander's track record with normal girls wasn't good. She checked for horns or scales, but there were none immediately apparent, so she relaxed a little, her main objective being to get her sister and Spike having a civilised conversation for once – and hopefully a lot more before the night was out.




Of course, a lot depended upon her being able to unclench the slayer's fingers from around the bottle of JD she was presently clinging to.




Spike took two steps towards Buffy before all hell broke loose.




Xander leapt backwards off his bar stool and toppled it to the ground, his left arm flailing on the bar and sweeping off glasses and bottles to crash to the floor. Two large men were upset by the fact that their hard-earned cash that they'd traded in for beer was now wasted and rounded on Xander demanding recompense. The pretty girl Xander had been chatting up was standing in front of him beckoning with a smug grin on her face, Xander backing even further off, horrified. Dawn sighed. Xander's woman curse was obviously still active, although the particular flaw with this one wasn't yet clear.




Buffy turned her head to see where the noise was coming from, noting Xander's discomfort, her bleary eyes seeking out the cause. Gratefully, the unwitting audience to Buffy's alcoholic mumblings slinked away, promising himself never to chat up a pretty blonde at a bar ever again. On unsteady legs, Buffy moved towards Xander, clinging to the bar as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She glanced up to see Spike looking at her with adoration, but wrote that off as wishful thinking as Spike couldn't really be here having been chased off by her stupidity. She moved past him, ignoring the vampire's sudden snarl of frustration.




“She's a bloody liability, Red! Look at her – can hardly walk and she's about to land herself in a whole load of trouble. Suppose I'd better help her out...”




Spike entered the fray, fists flying into the thug who had Xander gripped around the throat, his mate punching the carpenter's belly with meaty fists, while the ‘girl’ that Xander had been getting friendly with had whipped off her wig and was proudly showing the appreciative audience exactly what she had beneath her skirt – and it wasn't Victoria's Secret...more like Victor's...




There was a gasp from the pub's customers as Buffy reached the fracas and dragged thug number two away from punching Xander, knocking him out cold and launching him over their heads like he weighed nothing. Astonished eyes followed the arc of his descent like they were watching a tennis lob, only to do the same again when Spike overpowered the man slowly strangling Xander and sent him flying to join his friend.




Wearing berserker grins, the vampire and the slayer circled each other, revved up from the brief fight and eager to continue. It seemed to take forever before they were standing chest to chest, Buffy panting at her exertions, her eyes shining with excitement. She always did love dancing with Spike, he was her ideal partner. Spike. So close. Even if she was imagining him, he looked good enough to eat, so she'd take that, thanks. If she just moved an inch forward she could kiss him...




Spike bent his head as Buffy uplifted her face, eyes closing happily.




Then she bolted, hand across her mouth, scattering the crowd before her as she headed to the toilets.




tbc

LAST ORDERS




CHAPTER 7




Dawn drummed her fingers on the sink as she waited for Buffy to stop vomiting. She couldn't believe she'd been so close to seeing the reunion she'd dreamed of only to have it disappear due to Buffy's inability to process alcohol. Dawn just hoped Spike would be waiting outside when they returned.




“You alright?” Dawn queried when the sound of retching had stopped. “Buffy? Are you done?”




The door to the stall opened and a white-faced slayer tripped unsteadily out, her face beaded with sweat. “I'm done...I think...” Buffy muttered, wiping her mouth before leaning over the sink and splashing her face. When she looked in the mirror, she gasped. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, hair lank and sticking to her face, and her skin was all blotchy. Add to that the fact that she'd just caught a whiff of her own breath and the whole package added up to yuk. “Oh my god! Look at me!”




Dawn checked her watch; they'd been in there ten minutes already and she was anxious to get Buffy back outside. “You look great, come on,” she volunteered as Buffy patted and prodded at the skin around her eyes.




“Liar. I look like a Snarluk demon.”




Dawn shrugged and grinned. “Yeah...you do look kinda skanky, but I've seen worse.”




Buffy raised her eyebrow at her sister, before looking back at the mirror. Thank god that her slayer metabolism had burned off the alcohol, but it hadn't helped with the aftermath of tears. It was no good; there was no fixing this level of damage without a full on facial and a serious amount of cosmetics, and she didn't have either on hand. In a rush of panic, Buffy spoke to Dawn in leaden tones. “Did I...did I really see Spike outside?”




“Uh huh,” Dawn replied with a grin.




“So...he's gonna be waiting outside, and I look like the before photo in a makeover?”




“Noooo, you look fine,” Dawn giggled. “Pinch your cheeks; they do that on old films, maybe that'll get rid of the grey skin.”




“Gee, thanks. Now I feel great,” Buffy deadpanned, trying it just the same. “Lovely. Now I look like a clown. Good tip, Dawn. Well, wish me luck,” she said, gripping the door handle.




“Luck,” Dawn replied, following Buffy out of the restroom and wishing with everything she could that things would be alright.




+ + + +




Spike was pacing, having started as Buffy disappeared to the ladies room. The adrenaline of the tussle had worn off now, and he was left with the usual post-fight angst and needed to move. He was still confused; one minute he and Buffy were doing the double slay act, the next he was about to taste her lips for the first time in over a year, then nothing. He'd gone all snarly before Willow reassured him it wasn't him Buffy was running away from and that she'd sent Dawn after her sister to check.




Xander was in shock, sitting in the booth shaking his head and muttering. “Looked like a girl, had all the girl parts up top. Smelled like a girl. Doomed, I'm doomed .” He was nursing a bruised throat and cut eyebrow, and he hadn't found it amusing when Spike had pointed out that they'd probably end up with matching scars.




“I told you before, Will – gay me up. Had enough of that double-x thing, gonna get me some x-y action. Can't hurt...”




“Ya think?” Spike smirked, letting off steam by taunting Xander as usual. “What?” the vampire said off Willow and Giles' shocked looks. “Oh, don't give me that, Rupes. You've studied vampire lore, you must have read about Sire’s rights.”




Giles blustered. “Ahem...well, yes, I believe I did...there were some references about...but I wasn't aware...”




“Yeah, been buggered royally by Angelus back in the day. Doesn't mean anything – and why the fuck am I telling you anyway?” Spike started pacing faster.




Xander wasn't quite keeping up, brain lagging a few seconds behind Spike's revelation. When he figured it out he moaned. “I need a drink. And I'll become a monk instead, it's easier...” He wandered off to the bar, leaving Willow and Giles avoiding each other's eyes as Spike wore a hole in the floor.




Buffy and Dawn passed Xander in his search for drink, looking at each other quizzically as he shouldered past them muttering about stupid vampires and not being his type anyway. They came to a halt in front of the booth, Spike spinning round to face them and finally stopping, eyes fixed on Buffy.




“Hello, love.” His voice was soft, uncertain.




Buffy burned under the intensity of his gaze, hand trying in vain to smooth down her hair. An epic reunion, long lost love resurrected, and here she was looking like dog's vomit and with a mouth that tasted of sweaty sneakers. Hardly the romantic ideal she'd dreamed of, and not really paying due respect to the manner of their parting in the hellmouth.




“Sorry I'm such a mess,” Buffy murmured, dipping her head.




Cool fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look into burning blue eyes. “Beautiful,” Spike said softly, repeating himself when Buffy tried to shake her head, silencing her response with a finger on her lips. “Beautiful.”




Dawn was holding her breath, gripping onto Willow's arm; Willow doing the same with hers as they watched anxiously. Dawn swore, if Buffy messed this up again, she'd personally see to it that Buffy's head parted company with her stupid body.




And finally there was the kiss.




Dawn let out her breath squealing happily, Willow joining her in a spontaneous jig. Xander returned with a shot glass, downing it in one as he watched, raising the empty glass in salute. Giles sat smugly, grinning like an idiot, knowing that when all had settled he'd be able to claim the glory for bringing his slayer and the vampire together, albeit belatedly. If he got a twinge of discomfort from that thought, it didn't show.




It wasn't a kiss to stop the heavens revolving, nor to ignite a forest fire with its passion. It was brief and gentle, softly relinquished by the two holding onto each other so that while their lips no longer touched, their foreheads remained resting together.




A second kiss followed, then a third, a fourth; Giles tried clearing his throat to no avail, Dawn throwing in a Summers sigh and pout, but that didn't work either. Willow's whispered 'Buffy' and 'Spike' had no effect, so it was left to the less than gentle shove from Xander to break the two apart when the rating threatened to go up from G to NC17 right there in the middle of the pub.




Buffy leaned against Spike, her eyes closed in happiness and the vampire's grin was dazzling. There'd be explanations, no doubt about it, but the first step had been taken, and by them both together and that was just as it should be. Equals both: warriors, heroes, lovers.




“Shall we get a pizza?” Dawn asked, breaking the trance. “I'm starving!”




Spike chuckled, giving Buffy's shoulder a squeeze. “Lead on, Bit. Reckon we've had enough entertainment for one night.” He glanced down at Buffy looking up at him with shining eyes. “Besides, big sis and I have a bit to chat through and this isn't really the place. Back to yours, Watcher?”




Giles suddenly had a vision of having to hide his head beneath his pillow to smother the sounds coming from Buffy's bedroom and sighed. He really did have only himself to blame...and he'd do it again in a heartbeat to see Buffy smile as she was doing.




“Come on then, if we must. I don't suppose you'll stop nagging at me until we do. And I'll drive, Xander, thank you.”




They all trooped out following Giles as he led them to the car.




“Oy! Vampires don't nag!” Spike shouted as he realised belatedly what Giles had said.




Dawn smirked as she brought up the rear. “Oh you so do...”




+ + + +




“Better?” Spike asked as Buffy shut the bedroom door behind her, wrapped in a fluffy white towel and a matching one on her head.




“Much. I felt like a total skank. All clean now!”




Spike growled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Not for long – c'mere.”




“Nooo – down boy,” Buffy giggled as she skipped back out of range of his suddenly grabbing hands. “Not before we've done the dialogue.”




Spike pouted. He knew they needed to get things sorted out between them, but she was so close, so wet, only wrapped in a towel...




“Ah, ah!” Buffy shushed as he opened his mouth to speak, the gleam in his eye familiar to her. “I'll put something on. That way you’ll be able to drag the blood away from your groin and get it circulating back in your brain for a little while.” Her smile was like sunshine to him, and he nodded in agreement, shifting himself so that he sat up straight against the headboard and utilising enormous restraint when the towel disappeared and he got tantalising glimpses of her toned and tanned body as she pulled on a pair of pyjamas.




When she snuggled up next to him on the bed, smelling of Buffy and memories, her right hand linking his and resting on his thigh, he allowed himself to hope that finally, after all they'd been through, they'd gotten it right.




“I do love you,” Buffy whispered against his chest, nuzzling him and inhaling his scent. “I wish I could remember when I started to love you, but I do love you.”




Spike almost burst; she'd said the words before, held his hand and his gaze as their entwined fingers burned, but this time it was different. This time he believed her, felt the truth of it in her touch.




“I know, love.”




“You do?” Buffy turned and leaned up on her elbow, looking up at him and studying his face. “You really do this time?”




“Yeah, even my thick skull has to give sometimes. I believe you; think I did back in the hellmouth really. But you had to get out, and I'm not sure I wouldn't have begged you to stay if I'd let myself hope that we had a future – even if it was only for the next ten seconds.”




Buffy kissed him, nipping his lip so that he shouted out. “That's for lying to me,” she said before nuzzling back down onto his chest.




The silence between them was comfortable for a minute or two, until it grew too long and it was a yawning gap that needed filling. Question was, who was going to fill it first?




Spike took a deep breath, opened his mouth, then stopped. Buffy waited. She inhaled, moved away from him, trying to find words – but nothing, so she settled back down. She was grabbed around her arms as Spike shifted to face her.




“This is ridiculous! Look, I'm stupid, I know it. I don't know why I didn't come and find you once I could. God knows I tried enough times when I couldn't. Kept leaving the building, getting as far as city limits then twanging back, and don't think that didn't piss me off. Pissed Angel off too though, so it wasn't all bad.”




Buffy giggled at the mischief in Spike's eyes. “Remind me to kick Angel's butt for keeping all this a secret when I see him next.”




Spike's smile faded, his tone sombre. “I...I thought you knew, Buffy. Angel's gone.”




“No...I thought...he's always fine, I would have known...” Her words tailed off, her eyes beseeching Spike to tell her it wasn't true.




“I was the only one to make it through the fight. Not by choice, just lucky I guess. One minute we're battling demons and devils, and a bloody dragon – did you know about the dragon? Big fucker, not like the pretty little green things in fairy tales. Big fangs too, razor-sharp, not to mention the gouts of white-hot fire the beast blew.” Spike dipped his head, his brow furrowed. Buffy rubbed his arm, tears trickling down her face. “That's what got him in the end. He threw himself at it, managed to get a few slashes in, but nothing fatal. He was down on the ground and I was racing towards him but...the heat was fierce, blinded me. When I could see, all that was left was a pile of ash. That's when Blue opened a doorway, dragged the bastards through a portal. Something caught me with a talon on the way out – and that's the last I knew. Came to in the alleyway with the Watcher's friend leaning over me, then I was out again. Don't know how long. Giles'll probably know more.”




Buffy sniffled, trying to hold it together. “Are you sure? Maybe he got away, maybe he's somewhere...” Her voice was thick with emotion. She hadn't even thought much about Angel lately, even more so because her mind had been full of Spike, missing Spike, yearning for Spike. Her first love had gone, and she hadn't even noticed.




“I'm sure, love. I'm sorry. Would've taken the flame if I could, but...”




“NO! Don't say that! Don't ever think I'd rather...just don't. But...I never thought he'd be gone, you know? It feels weird. Shouldn't I have known or something, when he...died?”




“You're the slayer, love, not Gipsy Rosalee. You weren't mated, how could you have known?”




“I just feel...” Buffy shuddered, hugging herself. “I don't really know how I feel, to be honest.”




“Been there. Felt like that for a while, felt like I should have gone, not him. He was a hero, you know, at the end. I know you'd had a falling out, the Council, Giles and Angel – but he knew what he was doing. Bloody pillock.” Spike smiled softly in remembrance, and Buffy looked at him quizzically.




“You really miss him, don't you? After all that you said, you miss him.”




“Yeah, I do. We shared blood, after all. Blood is everything.”




A solitary tear trickled down Spike's face and Buffy's heart almost broke, her own grief rising to meet his. They clung to each other, whispering their memories of Angel and settling him into their shared history. Soft kisses followed softly spoken words until there were no more words and the kisses grew more ardent.




By unspoken agreement and persuasive hands, Buffy lost her pyjama top, Spike his t-shirt. Spike shucked off his jeans and dragged Buffy's bottoms off on his way back up her body, and they were bare to each other, raw with the need to reaffirm their existence in a world where they'd lost so many people. Buffy hesitated for a second as Spike cupped her breast, feeling like a betrayer as they lay still reflecting on Angel's ending, but Spike knew.




“Live, Buffy. He'd want you to live, with me even. He loved you, I'll give him that. Stupid bugger loved me too in his way, I reckon. He'd want us to be happy.”




Buffy nodded, her throat too thick to speak. Spike was right, that's exactly what Angel would want. He'd brood over it probably, self-sacrificing and all. She giggled, a high pitched sound that signalled the tenuous hold she had on her emotions, and Spike leaned in to kiss her and swallow down the panic.




As they kissed, all but the taste of each other's mouth, the gentle sweep of their tongues, disappeared.




“I missed you so much,” Buffy murmured around the kisses, gasping a breath when Spike remembered to let her, his lips never leaving her skin but busying themselves elsewhere. He nibbled at her throat, his teeth grazing the tender skin and raising goose-bumps. Buffy was clinging to him with her arms and her legs, wrapping him close but not feeling close enough.




“God, why did I ever think I could be without you?” Spike whispered against her flesh, kissing down the column of her throat and moving down to her breasts, biting and sucking to sooth the red marks he was leaving. “You burn me, Buffy. Hotter than hell, you are and tempting as the devil himself.” Buffy gasped as Spike swirled his tongue around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth and nuzzling against her. He slowly ran his fingers along her right flank, down past her hip and across the front of her thigh, parting her legs wider so that he could settle himself with his head on her stomach, inhaling deeply. Buffy had her eyes closed, living only for the sensations rippling through her body at his touch, seconds passing before she realised he was still, his chin digging into the flesh of her abdomen. She raised herself up to look at him.




“What?” she queried as he stared at her.




Spike reached up to interlace his fingers with hers, resting their linked hands alongside Buffy's prone body. “Just looking, making up for lost time. Kettle's boiling over a bit, if you get my drift, and that's all from just a sniff of your delicious self. Once I've prowled up and settled in, can't guarantee what's gonna happen, love. Demon's being feisty, he wants a bite of you just to reacquaint with your taste and the way I'm spinning out of control...”




“Let him,” Buffy stated with a smile. “Time I got to know him too, don't you think?”




Spike was awestruck, quite literally, dazzled by this woman lying beneath him and looking at him like he was the answer to her prayers. And she wanted all of him, good and bad, soul and monster, it seemed. He was a lucky fucker...




He couldn't help a growl as he released her hands and slid down, gripping her thighs with bruising intensity, blowing cold air across her clit just to see her jump. Buffy writhed and moaned, a fresh surge of arousal scenting the air and overpowering his senses until his head was swimming with her, he was drowning in her. He rasped his tongue along her slit from front to back, gathering the moisture on his tongue and drinking her down, dipping his head for more and burying his face against her heated pussy. Buffy squirmed with pleasure, her breathing shallow and gasping, her hands locking against his skull and holding him tight against her, rocking her pelvis to gain friction and ease the ache that had been building inside her since before Sunnydale imploded.




Her release was almost instantaneous, and very, very noisy. She screamed Spike's name, threw in a couple of dozen 'oh god's' and almost wrenched off his head with the force of her bucking against him. Spike grinned against her mound and carried on licking her, fucking her with his tongue, until she climaxed again and released a string of curse words that had even him blushing. Belatedly, he wondered where the Bit was, as this definitely wasn't for her ears.




Buffy was shaking, her heart beating out a staccato rhythm and she was struggling to breathe when Spike finally took pity and crawled up her body. His dick was throbbing painfully, digging into her hip as he kissed her neck and along her throat, up to her lips that were parted and swollen where Buffy had bitten them.




“That was...wow...” Buffy gasped, her eyes glazed.




Spike smirked and raised his scarred eyebrow, full of swagger and pride at giving his woman a happy. “And I didn't even get to give you a nibble; have to save that delight for another time, Slayer. You up for more?” He grinned and curled his tongue, laying down a challenge that he knew she'd have no problem accepting.




Strong arms pushed his shoulders, until he bounced back on the bed, Buffy jumping quickly to straddle him and pin him with his arms above his head. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Lie down, vampire, and shut up. Slayer's about to show you what stamina is.”




Spike all but passed out as Buffy slid down his torso and her hot, wet mouth engulfed his cock, moving slowly up and down his length. He was struggling to keep still, the taste of her on his lips and the feel of her tongue swirling around the head sorely testing his self-control. But much as he'd like to flood her throat, he'd much rather feel her tight pussy clenching around him as he reminded her just exactly how good they were together.




He grabbed her roughly, dragging her up so that her burning heat was searing his groin, his orgasm fast approaching as she wriggled her hips against him. “Buffy...” he snarled, as she teased him by sliding his cock along her wet slit, taking in the very tip, but never allowing his bucking to penetrate her further. Spike was about to explode, vamping out when his control was focused elsewhere.




Buffy took pity and sank down onto him, gasping at the feel of his girth as it stretched her, her body remembering and accommodating him and making her feel whole, finally. She rocked with him, matching his upward thrusts with downward thrusts of her own, Spike sitting up to wrap her body tight against him, reluctant to allow even an inch of empty space between them. He felt his balls tighten signalling his impending release, and Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him as she lost herself to the ecstasy her orgasm brought. Hesitantly, she leaned forward to caress his demon features, shaking her head no as Spike tried to melt back to his human visage. She wanted him to know that she truly loved all of him, having no doubts as her lips met his, ignoring the sharp fangs that sliced her tongue as she kissed him fiercely. The taste of her blood in his mouth tipped Spike completely over the edge and he abandoned her kiss in favour of a feral roar that echoed down the stairs to the ears of the blushing quartet, even over the noise of the hastily turned up TV.




tbc

LAST ORDERS




EPILOGUE




Buffy snuggled against her lover's side, dozing happily as he stroked her hair. She stirred as Spike chuckled, the rumbling in his chest reverberating through her skull.




“What?” she murmured sleepily, her eyes heavy.




“Bloody altar you've got going over there, love. Is that my shirt? And where the hell did you get my journal?”




“Bag. On the bus. Dawn...”




“The Bit had it? Well, bugger me. Didn't even think about it, too busy getting cow-eyed with you and fighting overwhelming odds, I suppose.” He paused, smiling. “Glad to see it again though. Erm...did you...read it?”




Buffy blushed, feeling like she'd intruded on his private thoughts. “Yeah...a little.” When Spike looked at the book, he'd realise that was a massive understatement, the pages crinkled with her tears and dog-eared with her caresses. “I thought it was beautiful, the things you wrote, the poetry.”




“Ah, yeah. The poetry. Thing is, love – I know I'm a bad poet and all, but I only write what I feel.”




Buffy shifted to rest on one elbow so that she could look at him. His eyes burned into hers, and Buffy was lost for all eternity in their depths. “Was it...was it about me?”




“Every word.” Spike tensed as he remembered the same conversation a century before. His fragile ego waited for a bashing.




“I'm honoured. Wow. I wish I could show you what you mean to me. I just don't have the words.”




Spike drew her to him and kissed her, softly, exploring her mouth with his lips, his tongue, savouring her taste, his hands mapping her body where he held her. “Don't need words, Buffy. I know. Stubborn as I am, I know.”




Slow tears trickled down Buffy's face as her heart mended.




+ + + +







“D'you think they're done?” Xander asked Dawn, finally taking his fingers out of his ears.




Dawn shook her head and reached for more chips. “Not even close. I figure they'll be at it for the whole night, so don't think we'll get much sleep. We could always go to your place.”




Xander snorted. Willow and Spike were bad enough; Willow, G-man and scary Dawn was another matter entirely. Although, now that he thought about it, there was no reason why he couldn't go home. It was, after all, where he lived.




Dawn, however, was having none of it, but it was Giles' earnest yet wordless begging for male company that had Xander flopping back against the couch and accepting the bribe of a bottle of beer. Willow wore a constant smile, her connection to the earth that was being honed by her continuing studies with the coven opening her to the feelings of love and completion that emanated from the floor above.




In the end, the four of them fell asleep downstairs, the television blaring through the night to mask the never-ending roars and moans of the reunited lovers rediscovering their life's passion.




Dawn was the first to stir as her sleeping mind noted the lack of background noise. She blinked gritty eyes, struggling to focus on the hazy form standing in front of her.




“You okay, Bit?” Spike whispered, stroking her tangled hair from her forehead.




“Mmm, yeah. Bit stiff – what time is it?”




“Just gone seven. Came down to get your sis a drink, didn't think you'd all be in here. Turned off the TV – surprised you could sleep with that racket.”




“That racket was how we could sleep. And we kinda needed the buffer of the floor between us too.” Dawn pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.




Spike grinned, pride lighting his eyes. “Yeah, well. Lot of making up to do. Not renowned for my self-control, and Buffy's got muscles you wouldn't...”




“DON'T!” Dawn shrieked at his teasing, forgetting her companions until Xander leapt up from his hunched position on a chair, fists raised even as he tried to focus with his one eye, spinning round to locate the assailant that had rudely awoken him. Eventually his gaze fell on the vampire crouched at Dawn's feet and his dozy brain caught up with events.




“Oh. It's Mr-Twelve-Times-a-Night. Doesn't that thing have an off switch?” Xander asked, sarcastically.




Spike smirked. “Jealous, Harris? I'd like to fit you in, but my lady's kinda partial to me being hers and hers alone, you know? Still, I could fix you up with a stallion if you'd like.”




Xander shuddered; Spike was doing his usual trick of pushing his buttons, having latched on to his discomfort about the man-chick who'd hit on him earlier. Xander snorted and dismissed the vampire with a shake of his head before settling back down on the chair and turning his back.




Giles blinked and reached for his glasses, stretching out the kinks in his neck from sleeping on the other chair. Despite the uncomfortable night, he still looked calm and collected, barely a crease in his crisp, white shirt and dark grey flannel trousers. The only sign that he'd spent the night hunched up on an easy chair with his jacket for a cover was the loosened tie and bed head hair. He cleared his throat and squinted as Spike rose from his knees in front of Dawn and nodded at the watcher.




“Mornin', Rupes. Just getting Buffy some juice. Shall I put the kettle on?”




“Ahm...good morning. Is it morning?”




“Yeah, just gone seven. Sorry I woke you all – thought some muppet had left the TV on when they went to bed.”




“Quite. Well, while I'm awake I will take you up on your offer of tea, but make sure you use my leaves this time. And a china cup---!” Giles shouted after Spike as he strutted from the room.




Dawn turned to look at Willow, still fast asleep behind her on the couch where they'd spent the night top to toe. The redhead was snoring quietly, so Dawn nudged her, almost sliding off the couch when Willow stretched out her legs and arms.




“Hi,” Willow said sleepily. “Has it stopped?”




“Uh huh,” Dawn nodded, “well, round one has. Spike's in the kitchen getting juice for Buffy.”




“Oh. Juice sounds nice.”




They all congregated in the kitchen, bleary eyed and stiff from their makeshift beds, all except Spike who was whistling as he made his way around the kitchen, putting coffee on, boiling the kettle for tea and pouring juice for Buffy. Dawn's stomach grumbled, so the impromptu gathering turned into breakfast for everybody, Spike surprising them all with his deft moves with the frying pan and toaster.




“Can't do any of that rubbish you lot call breakfast, but I can do you a fry-up, long as Rupes here has the goods.”




Giles nodded that indeed he did have bacon, sausage and eggs in the fridge, but apologised for his lack of kidneys.




“Ewww!” Dawn said, for them all, so Spike got busy. Just as they were about to dig in, Buffy appeared at the doorway, hair mussed up, wearing an oversized nightshirt with 'Careful – I Bite' on the front over a photograph of a cute kitty that patently didn't. Dainty pink fluffy mules finished off the ensemble, but the cuteness evaporated when Buffy folded her arms and started tapping her feet with a scowl on her face.




“Five minutes you said. What are you doing?” she whined, ignoring the evidence of her eyes that told her Spike was about to ladle out scrambled eggs onto the waiting plates.




“Got sidetracked, love. Kept this lot awake, so thought it was the least I could do to feed 'em all.”




“Oh.” Buffy blushed, and grinned, biting her bottom lip. “Sorry, guys. Won't happen again.”




“Bloody well will, and in about ten minutes,” Spike muttered as he set a plate down for Buffy and shooed her to sit at the table. “Eat that, Slayer. Gonna need the energy.” He smirked and raised his eyebrow, winking at her knowingly so that her blush deepened.




Dawn ate her food and watched all her favourite people as they teased and laughed, comfortable together as only old friends could be. A week ago, Dawn had been worried sick about her sister, and here she was, colour in her cheeks, fingers entwined with the vampire who nearly killed her by not being there. And Spike; Dawn couldn't get enough of looking at his pale features, animated as he argued with Xander, full of awe as he gazed at Buffy. Spike turned his head to look at her, and Dawn smiled at him when he nodded, understanding that he'd make time for her later.




All in all, Dawn thought, she'd had worse days.




THE END