I don't care, I don't bloody give a damn. That's what Spike told himself as he picked up Dru's unconscious form. It's what he told himself when he saw The Great Forehead back the Slayer into a corner. What he continued to tell himself when the git raised his sword, taunting her. A horrifying thought struck him without his permission, the berk was gonna kill her. That wasn't the shocking, strike you down on the spot, part. No, the part that rubbed him the wrong way is that he didn't want her dead. Not by Angelus' hand while he tells her how alone she is. Not while she's stewing in pain from that sort of betrayal. The sort of betrayal that comes from still loving someone who doesn't give a lick about you. He's been there, done that, got a niffy set of fangs for his trouble. What will Goldilocks get when the dust settles? Better yet, what the bleeding Hell will happen to the rest of the world if Peaches comes out on top? He supposes he could swoop in and dust the ponce after he offs the girl. The window of opportunity being as Angelus takes a mo to soak in his 'victory'. Or maybe he'll do the unthinkable. Maybe he'll whisk her off somewhere to break her, then turn her. Make Dru a little sister. He always was a sick twisted bastard, and that's saying something coming from a fellow vamp. His Grandchilde no less. The thought of Peaches taking his fierce strong-willed Slayer, and turning her into some dependent fledge who's gone completely carrot top makes his blood run colder than it already is.




She doesn't deserve that, and if he's being completely honest with himself, she doesn't deserve to die before her rightful time either. He vaguely registers that he thought of the Slayer, Buffy, for a split second as his. He files that away for later, when everything's not a high stakes game of who gets to die. He looks down at his Dark Princess; he doesn't have much time. He has to make a quick decision that rests on whether or not he cares about the Slayer. About what happens to her that is, it's not like he actually cares about HER, as a person. It's not like he's bothered to look past the Slayer persona to see the amazing woman underneath. The way she tries, the way she- oh bollocks. Fucking Hell! God bloody damn it! Damn it all.. William The Bloody, The Slayer Of Slayers, Spike, cares about some teenage bird. Not just any teenage bird, God forbid, but the one and only: Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Wasting not another mo, he runs to the corner of the room. Gently placing his Sire down in hopes she'd be safe here from whatever the Hell's about to come from this very stupid decision. Racing head first into the fray was his specialty, so that's exactly what he did. He unfortunately didn't get to enjoy the look of complete surprise on Angelus' face as he tackled The Brooding Wonder to the ground. "Turns out she's not as alone as you thought, huh Peaches?", Spike had taunted. The game plan was simple, distract the poofter till the Slayer's back on her feet.




Then they could go from there. It would've been selfish of him to get all the good hits in without thinking to include her. "If this is about Dru, you can have her.", Angelus offered after getting a particularly hard punch to the gut. He spoke as if he was doing Spike some huge favor. As if he was a saint just doing his daily good deed. It made The Slayer Of Slayers feel like a charity case. Made him want to see The Brooding Arse as dust in the wind even more than he did before, if such a thing were possible. He dove for the sword he dropped when Spike tackled him. The Slayer beat him to it, slicing at his hand with her own sword. He reeled back, and had to focus all his energy on not getting decapitated. "Dru's not yours to give away, you wanker. She's mine!", Spike exclaimed while picking up the discarded weapon. Now it was really two on one. Without the sword he just would've been in the Slayer's way. "Do you really still believe that Willy, after all this time? Don't you remember our little lesson?", Angelus sneered as he continued to mostly dodge the duo's attacks. He had cuts on his face and hands, his clothes starting to become tattered and shredded. "Drive him back!", Buffy ordered before kicking the poof through the doorway. Back to the room where Drusilla was. He followed her instructions, they were winning after all. He hoped she had some sort of game plan of her own up her sleeve. The light of his unlife was bound to wake up at some point, and he'd at least like to keep one of his girls out of the rest of this fight.




Oh fucking Hell! What was WRONG with him?! He only has one girl and she's perfectly safe at the mo. Buffy- the Slayer, isn't his. This slip of the tongue- mind thing is getting ridiculous. "Because I remember it with perfect clarity. You were still a sniveling little fledge in love with his Sire. Writing crappy poetry about how she hung the moon, or something else as stupid.", the tosser started recalling. Spike's eyes just about popped out of his skull. Of course he remembered, no matter how much he'd like to forget. He clenched his jaw before doubling his efforts. Didn't want the Slayer to hear about this, to think less of him. "I remember how you went on and on about how much she meant to you. How she was yours and you were hers. You were forever! Ha, how pathetic. I almost dusted you myself right then and there out of the embarrassment of being related to you.", the berk carried on. He managed to knock Buffy's sword out of her hand as Spike faltered. The bastard was trying to get inside his head, throw him off his game. He couldn't let that happen. He tossed his temporary ally his sword, he didn't need it. He was a weapon in his own right. He'd just have to be mindful of her swings. Angelus had a sword again, fan-fucking-tastic. "I couldn't of course, it was my job to raise you after all boyo. My job to teach you how to be a real vamp. Dru was way too soft with you, and she clearly still is. Why else would you align yourself with my former lover? Or has it become a habit of yours at this point? Always chasing after my sloppy seconds.", he goaded.




If Spike wasn't completely livid before, he certainly was now. That wanker didn't get to take the credit of molding him into the big bad he is today! He did that himself, with a lot of time and hard work. Sure his Grandsire gave him a big push. Set the standard that he'd have to top in order to be what his Dark Princess wanted, but he's the one who persevered. "I still remember how sad, helpless, and absolutely heartbroken you looked when you walked in on me fucking Dru. Like a school boy finding out his crush is dating someone else.", Angelus laughed. Spike grabbed his wrist, snapping it and catching his sword before it hit the ground. The poofter howled in pain before the Slayer threw him up against Acathla. They closed in on him. "You can take what you want, but nothing is ever truly yours. What do you think Dru'll do when she wakes up and realizes you've helped take away her Daddy? She may not be mine, but she's most certainly not yours. Haven't I proved that? I was away for how long; you took care of her for how long?", he reminds Spike. To his horror he sees that damned statue unhinge it's jaw. A portal starting to form in it's place. Great, he's screwed, they're all utterly sodding screwed. Unless they can manage to close that portal, they'll be knitting tea cozies in Hell with the Old Ones. He raises his sword, but hesitates. With a sinking feeling he knows the vamp's right. He'd been second best for all of his life, and that rule of thumb apparently extended to his unlife.




Dru'd never choose him, not over her sodding Daddy, like he said. He knows it's not her fault, Angelus made her like this. Twisted her mind so all she could see was him. I'm not gonna cry, not in front of Buffy, and definitely not in front of this waste of space. He repeats that to himself like a mantra over and over again, his eyes still go misty. "Yet she still threw herself at me the first chance she got. You're her babysitter, nothing more. Oh, and if you're thinking of setting your sights on Buff, don't bother. Even if I weren't in the picture, she'd never go for someone like you William. You're beneath her, isn't that right babe?", The Great Sodding Mother Fucking Forehead drives home. It's the final nail in the coffin. Spike deflates, barely even holding his sword up at this point. If he lost his Sire over this he'd have nothing, he'd be nothing. He feels like Buffy's his, for some unknown reason, but she's not. Not even close, in fact she'd probably dust him and a sleeping Drusilla as soon as this was over. Everything Angelus said was too cutting, too personal, hitting too close to home. Knowing him it was on purpose, maybe to even get him to switch sides. Or perhaps to finally break him, so all he could do was slump to the floor in defeat. He certainly felt like doing that, saving the world be damned. Then he felt a hand encase his own. Whipping his head to the side, he made eye contact with Goldilocks. She gave him an understanding half smile before slowly lowering his arm.




Stepping in front of him, she draws her own sword. She was saving him from having to risk Dru's wrath. Well more of her wrath than he'd already have to deal with for pulling a stunt like this, by ending her ex honey herself. Either that or she wanted all the glory of being the one to save the day. Though to him that didn't seem very likely, she wasn't the selfish sort. Quite the opposite actually. She's the sort that gives and gives, lets others take until there's nothing left. He knows what that's like all too well. Her sword pierces Captain Forehead right below the ribcage. He looks surprised, git probably didn't think she had the stones to do him in. Spike wasn't a hundred percent sure she did either, but any concerns he had were alleviated as he watched Angelus get sucked up through the now closed portal. The Slayer staggers back, tears streaming down her face as she furiously tries to wipe them away with her hands. He doesn't think about it, about any sort of repercussions, as he approaches her. He gently brings her in close, protectively wrapping his arms around her as she collapses into him. She clenches his shirt in her fists with all she's got as she lets out the most heartbreaking sobs. He rubs her back as he encourages her to let it all out, reassuring her that she's safe now, that everyone's safe. He couldn't tell you why he does it. He's so used to coddling and comforting his Dark Plum, it's probably just second nature to him.




The only flaw in that's that he couldn't see himself doing anything remotely close to this for some stranger, or worse yet any of Buffy's chums. His unbeating heart clenches painfully as his bird shakes with exhaustion and grief. It's then he knows he's doing this because he can't stand to see her in this much pain, or in any amount of pain for the matter. He wants her to be happy, to smile so brightly that the entire building looks like it's been lit up by twenty floodlights. "Let's get you home, love.", he whispers in her ear. That only makes her cry harder. Spike cringes. Bollocks! Five minutes in and he's already screwing everything up. "I don't have a home, not anymore.", she says dejectedly. Bloody Hell, did something happen to the Slayer's mum? She never said anything, and they were just over there. Surely something couldn't have occurred in such a short amount of time. He hugs her tighter as her cries start to die down into hiccups. "Is your mum-", he begins to asks before Buffy steamrolls right over him. "She's fine, kinda. Well, nothing's really fine anymore. She kicked me out.", she reveals. Spike would've reeled back in shock if he wasn't being held in place by an upset girl. He wants to prod, find out what happened, but he thinks better of it. She's been through so much already the past week. Hell the past twenty-four hours, his questions'll keep. He nods instead. "You want a ride?", he offers after a mo of silence.




She reluctantly detaches herself from him, wiping her stained cheeks one last time. He feels cold as he drops his arms. He didn't think he'd ever feel cold again, seeing as he's a vamp who isn't really affected by temperatures. He hates it, and what he hates even more's that he's standing there like a ponce missing her warmth while she's not even a foot away. "A ride to where?", she asks once she's pulled herself together for the most part. He shrugs his shoulders, trying not to immediately regret his offer. Being in an enclosed space with both her and Dru for any amount of time sounds simultaneously like Heaven and Hell. "Wherever you wanna go.", he promises. Balls, this was not good. She looks like she's seriously considering his offer. It makes him feel both excited and nervous. It makes him want to take things one step further, offer her a spot in Dru and his' road trip. Right, like that'd go over real well with either of the birds. Has he gone completely over the bend barmy? "Okay.", she simply agrees. This is a mess, a mess of his own creation. He bets the Powers That Like To Constantly Fuck Him Over are having a right laugh at his expense. He awkwardly shuffles in place before nodding resolutely. He made his bed, now he's gotta lie in it. He walks over to Dru, she's still out cold thankfully. At least he's got that going in his favor. It wouldn't do well to have her lunging at the Slayer from the back seat.




Wait a tick, back seat? Was he really gonna throw his Sire in the back, like a sack of potatoes, while Buffy snuggled up to him in the bench seat up front? Well, there wouldn't be much- any snuggling, but she'd still be next to him. He'd still feel her presence, her warmth, inches away from him. All he'd have to do is reach out, slide her over, and- he quickly shakes his head. There was no way in Hell anything remotely similar to that would be playing out. He carefully holds his Wicked Plum in his arms again, throwing an apologetic glance in the Slayer's direction. As if there was a chance in Hell she'd forgotten about the Seer. He almost did, multiple times, and boy does that make him feel like a useless wanker. She wordlessly follows him out to the DeSoto. "Would you mind popping open the back door for me, pet?", he requests while cocking his head to gesture towards it. She wordlessly complies. He places Dru across the back seats, brushing a stray hair away from her face before straightening back up. He closes the door, opening the front passenger for the cutie next to him. "Um, thanks.", she tells him as she's sliding into his vehicle. "No problem.", he dismisses as he's quick to shut her door. He tries to look calm and indifferent as he makes his way to the driver's side. She's watching him, he can feel it. He wonders what she's thinking, what she thinks of him in this very mo. He gets in, starts the engine.




They're already down the street before she asks, "Can we swing by my hou- where I used to live, before we go? I have a few things I need to pick up real quick.". He turns the car around without hesitating. "Of course love, take your time.", he responds. God, he sounds like such a Nancy Boy, but he doesn't think she'd go for his usual Big Bad attitude right now anyhow. Things have shifted, haven't they? Sitting here with her sure as Hell feels different than it would've before this bloody truce. Before the bloody battle of all battles even. "Why are you doing this?", she prompts. Ain't that the question of the year? He doesn't rightly know, and he doesn't want to go looking into it for too long. He has a hunch he won't like the answer. "What, you mean giving you a lift? It seemed like the least I could do for-", he deflects until the spitfire in the seat over cuts through his crap. "No, I mean, why are you being so nice to me? Ang- The Bringer Of The End Of The World is gone. You've got Drusilla back, and neither of you are gonna be dusty tonight, as a part of the truce. You could've just left me back there, so what gives?", she brings up as we turn into her block. We come to a stop in front of her former place of residence. She doesn't move, waiting for some sort of explanation. He fully plans to bluff his way through a half arsed lie. It's not like he can tell her the truth, or any part of what he's been feeling since he decided to save her instead of toddling off.




She'd surely take back her no staking clause with a look of disgust plastered over her face. "I don't leave behind the people I care about.", is what he says instead. His eyes bug out at the admission, he nervously looks away from her piercing green eyes. Any minute now, he'll be shot down. Not that this was some sort of confession, this isn't the time or place for such things. It's just how these things go. Expressing any sort of sappy sentiment results in a swift kick to the balls, verbally or physically. "You care about me?", she confirms. Her voice filled with awe, or maybe it's confusion. Spike being the helpless romantic that he is, is viewing this with rose colored glasses. Not that this has anything to do with his romantic feelings for her. He doesn't feel that way about her to begin with! He risks making eye contact, her gaze is searching. He gulps before slowly nodding. It dawns on him that he might be the only one at the mo who gives a shit about this wonderful woman in front of him. Mum's kicked her to the curb. The poofter said she was all alone or some rot, so her gang of Scoobies probably aren't waiting for her at the Bronze for a celebratory glass of soda. "I do, don't know how or why, but I do.", he admits. Even in the dark he can see her eyes shine, and he swears he'll slam his skull in one of the DeSoto's doors if he makes her cry again. "Is that why you came back for me? That, was you coming back for me right? Not just you wanting to finish A-", she starts rattling off.




"Believe you me, I certainly didn't make a U-turn for that sorry sod. Even if it would be just to stake his sorry arse. The thought of him killing you didn't sit right with me if you must know. Now run along and gather your things, before the neighbors call the fuzz and complain about a sleek suspicious vehicle lurking on the street.", he reassures her. She laughs, the sound's music to his ears. He'd pat himself on the back if he thought he could get away with it. He might just do that after she sneaks in. "Well we can't have that now can we, and I think you mean old, clunky, suspicious vehicle lurking on the street.", she jokes. Buffy's joking, and laughing, with him. Disgust or loathing nowhere to be found on her beautiful face. Maybe things haven't gone completely pear shaped after all. "Oi! You watch your mouth, my baby's a classic!", he defends with a smile. She gives him a smile of her own, accompanied with a playful roll of her eyes, before darting off around back. She leaves the passenger's side open. Probably so when she's running back she doesn't have to fiddle with the handle. Her mum's not home, her car's not in the driveway, but you can never be too careful. She could return home any minute, and in that case they might need to make a quick getaway. Sure she kicked her daughter out, but who knows how she'll react to the news of her offspring booking it outta town with a couple of vamps. Speaking of, he turns around to lay eyes on his savior. The reason for his very unexistence.




She's always been very hot and cold about things, and one could argue that there's no telling which way she'll swing when she comes to. Spike on the other hand, knows better. She'll be upset, angry, and she'll take it out on the Slayer along with himself. Providing that Buffy's still with them when it's time to face the music. He sure hopes she is, but also very much hopes she isn't. The only way that's ending is in tears. Dru'll try and rip her limb from limb for revenge. Buffy'll be forced to try and stake her. Where will he be during all of this? Watching from the sidelines, having to figure out when or if he should step in. It's not a matter of choosing between them. He can't let his birds kill each other, end of story. He doesn't know how he'd cope if it came to that. Maybe bringing Buffy along for the ride was a piss poor idea, but he can't bring himself to care too much. Not when she's smiling at him the way she was a mo ago. He turns his attention back towards the house when he hears a noise. It's Goldilocks, hauling arse back to the DeSoto. He takes a quick glance around. Did he somehow miss her mum arriving home while he was stuck in his own head? He doesn't see or hear any extra commotion. She must just be antsy to get back on the road. Not that he blames her, he's not feeling too comfortable waiting around here like a sitting duck either. She hops in, dropping a duffel bag at her feet, before shutting the door behind her.




"Drive.", she commands. Oooo, bossy little thing. He starts the engine up, and they peel out of there. He cuts across town till they make it onto the highway. "So, where to?", he finally breaks the silence. He really doesn't want to ask. As soon as he's got a destination, they're on borrowed time. He can't make their time together, in this odd little bubble of peace, last forever. Doesn't stop him from wanting to prolong the experience all the same. "I don't know, was thinking maybe L.A. or something. Where are you going?", she says with a shrug. It's just his luck that she'd pick someplace that's in the same sodding part of the same sodding state. Not just someplace, L.A, Los Angeles, The City Of Angels. He just can't escape the tosser or the giant shadow he casts, can he? He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. He thinks about turning the radio on to calm his nerves, but then he'd run the risk of waking Drusilla up. It's such a short ride, why waste most of it trying to keep his girls from starting their own civil war. Not that they're his, either of them. "South America.", he states. Which is far away from her, he reconsiders his answer. He's sure Dru'd get a kick out of L.A., plenty of valley girls to snack on. Plenty of young, tan chits. With bouncy shampoo commercial blonde hair, and fierce green eyes. With smiles that could melt the polar ice caps, and laughs that could thaw the most frozen of hearts.




Suddenly snacking on valley girls didn't sound so appealing. "Sounds nice.", she vaguely compliments. He looks over at her, she's fiddling with one of her duffel straps while staring out the window. He's never seen anyone look more beautiful. His head falls back into his seat. What, the ever loving fuck, is wrong with him? Did his brains get scrambled during the battle? Did Angelus' lot of shite he was trying to spoon-feed Spike somehow muck his mind up? He's always known she was beautiful, but that was an unspoken fact he never thought about. She's always been everything he's been fawning over tonight. So what the Hell's the difference? That he's acknowledging it? That they're not trying to kill each other? That they're even, dare he say, being friendly? Maybe this'll all go away when they're back to hating each other. Problem is he doesn't want this to go away, he doesn't want to hate her. Doesn't want her to hate him. "You're welcome to join us.", he blurts out before he can think any better of it. Could he be an even bigger idiot? What kind of offer is that, you wanker? Come away with us to another continent, where we'll all live happily ever after! Is he very stoned? "Do you actually mean that? Do you really want take me with you, or do you just feel sorry for me?", she huffs. Great, she doesn't believe him. Granted, he doesn't very well believe himself either. His mouth has officially detached itself from his brain. He's no longer in control of the rot coming out of it, but that is what he wants all the same isn't it?




"Course I mean it, said it myself earlier. I don't leave behind the people I care about. As for feeling sorry on your behalf, I've got nothing to feel sorry for. You're still alive and kicking, the world's all right as rain. You're free now, got nothing tying you down. No uppity Watcher looking on in disappointment as he tells you what to do. No fake friends playing pin the blame on Buffy whenever life gets too tough for them to handle. The world's your oyster, you can do whatever you want. Be selfish for a change, live life. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.", he proclaims. If he's feeling sorry for anyone, it's himself. He knows Buffy's gonna turn down his offer once her head clears up. Even if she agrees now, she'll never make it past Mexico. When she goes it'll just be him and his Black Goddess, provided she doesn't hightail it outta dodge as soon as she realizes what he's done. He's not sure who he'll miss more, and doesn't that leave him with a bitch of a headache. "All I've been is selfish lately, I don't blame them for blaming me.", Buffy whispers. He's not completely sure if that was directed at him, or if she was thinking aloud and forgot about his vamp hearing. "How so, ducks?", he pries anyway. Cause from where he's standing, she just sacrificed the ex love of her life for the good of world. Fell out with mummy dearest just for being the Slayer, for continuing to help people. How her mates have the gall to feel anything but grateful towards her is beyond him.




"This whole thing is all my fault. If I hadn't slept with- he wouldn't have lost his soul. Ms. Calendar wouldn't be dead, Kendra wouldn't be dead. The world wouldn't have almost ended, my friends wouldn't be hurt and hanging out at the hospital. Giles wouldn't be going through the five stages of grief, and my mother wouldn't be- she wouldn't have..", she trails off as it becomes too hard for her to speak. She's collapsed in on herself again, her head tucked between her knees. Her loud sobs echoing in the enclosed space. Spike leans over to slide Buffy over, so she's resting against him. He wraps his arm around her shoulders as she melts into him. She unfurls, dropping her head on the crook of his neck. She even goes as far as to burrow into his duster, using it like a protective blanket. Her right hand absentmindedly stroking his chest. It looks like he did the thing he swore he wasn't going to do, allowed what he was sure would never happen. Him and the Slayer are cuddling up front while he drives. At least now he has a justifiable reason for doing so. The overwhelming need to protect the strong yet fragile girl at his side. She is just a girl still, isn't she? Turned seventeen a little bit ago, a teeny bopper. She should be out having fun, making dumb teenage decisions. Not crumbling under the weight of the world. He thinks it's a strange concept, being understanding and sympathetic towards a Slayer.




One he's been trying to kill for quite a while no less. He supposes Buffy's the exception. It's okay to care about the wellbeing of someone you don't plan on killing anymore right? It's okay to be mad at the world, and all the insipid humans in it, for breaking this effulgent creature's spirit right? Oh, God, please no... EFFULGENT?! Effulgent? The only birds he's ever associated with that word was that cold bitch Cecily, and his barmy poodle Drusilla. The women he's been in love with at one point or another. It looks like he'll be adding his spitfire of a Slayer Buffy to the list. He's chilled to the bone at this revelation. He wants to pump the brakes, pull over, and run far far away. He'd throw up right now if he could, he'd contract a fever and pass away on the spot if that were an option. How the in bleeding Hell did he get here? Is he that much of a simpering sod that he falls for any woman he interacts with on a regular basis? No, that's not right, he never felt a damned thing for Darla. Thank the Gods for that. He's been around other women before: human, vampire, demon, you name it, he's probably come across it in his years of unexistence. He must be a complete ponce with a yen for pain and women who'll never return his affections. One could argue that Dru's come a close second, but has she really? Just because you shag someone, doesn't mean you love them. It takes him a mo to realized he's completely wandered off again, right after Buffy unloaded a bunch of personal baggage no less.




He once again felt like a right git, like a bad bad man who doesn't know how to treat his girl. She wasn't ever going to be his girl, and wasn't that a kick to the balls. When did he start wanting that, wanting her? He'd wanted her from that first encounter, when he first laid eyes on her dancing with her mates. He always thought that want, that hunger, was for their inevitable dance. For his inevitable victory. Has he just been in blind denial this entire sodding time? He chances a glance down at his girl, she's staring off through the small hole in the black paint. "Erm, I'm sorry love, my mind wandered off without my permission. Didn't mean to leave you hanging.", he apologizes. She slowly nods, and it doesn't look like she's going to say anything. "What were you thinking about?", she asks him. What did he know of course? The chit's always kept him on his toes. "Oh nothing much, just how stupid and ungrateful your lot is.", he brushes off. He's sure that'll get her fired up and ready to defend her Scoobies. She stiffens a bit, but doesn't make any moves to untangle herself from him. He's relieved, and can't help but think about how utterly screwed he is. "They're not, they have every right to-", she starts justifying. Spike can't be bothered to listen to one more minute of this rot. "Like Hell they do! That dumpster fire wasn't even your fault!", he exclaims indignantly. He feels her pulse jump as soon as those words leave his mouth. He can smell even more oncoming tears.




"W-what did you just say?", she whispers in disbelief. She lifts her head up to look at him, shifting so she's sitting up instead of leaning on him. He keeps his eyes on the road, it wouldn't do if they ended up totaling his baby. Sure it'd be an extra stop and detour, but at the cost of the DeSoto's health. He shrugs, hoping to not look as nervous as he feels receiving Buffy's undivided attention like this. "Said it's not your fault alright. If you had known having a roll in the sheets with Captain Forehead would've meant his soul toddling off for an extended vacation, you'd have never done it. It's not bloody fair for anyone to throw any blame your way. You're just as innocent as the rest of them, if not more so.", he reassures her. Her tears that she'd been valiantly holding in during his explanation finally spill over. She shakes her head, looking so lost yet hopeful at the same time. "But everyone said- I'm definitely not the innocent party in this. He was my boyfriend, I was the one who-.", she denies. Oh for God sakes, just what have the holier than thou white hats been saying to her? "Sod whatever those tossers said! You were in the dark just as much as they were. That gypsy woman should've been forthcoming. Your Watcher should've been looking out for your well being. Your chums should've stopped green lighting that abomination of a relationship, not to mention been supportive when everything went tits up. Lastly, Peaches should've known better. He'd been with that bleeding soul for how long, and didn't think to do a bit of research? He should've never been your honey to begin with.", Spike passionately rants.




Buffy's stock still, eyes rimmed red and wide with shock and annoyance. Tear tracks drying down on her face, her hair slightly tousled. She still looks absolutely stunning to him. Yep, he's definitely fucked six ways to Sunday. "Our relationship was NOT an-", she starts huffing. Well, it looks like her groupies aren't the only ones who did a number on her if she thinks what happened was okay. This was gonna be a long hour and a half. "I don't mean that because he's a vamp, soul or no soul, and you're the slayer. If that's what you were wondering. I'm sure that's what your Scoobies were always hung up about if they ever had any reservations. I'm talking about the fact that's he's what, two hundred and seventy-one years old give or take? While you're coming in at the ripe age of seventeen.", he clarifies. That only seems to push her buttons even more. The fire in her eyes is back, she throws her hands on her hips. She's glorious, and he knows he's in for it now. "I'm well aware of the age gap, I've done the math. It's not like he was two hundred and seventy-one or whatever when he was turned. It's totally fine.", she dismisses. TOTALLY- so they should just throw away all those extra years of experience and time the berk's walked this Earth because he doesn't look like a wrinkly old timer should they? "Maybe not, pet, but he has been around for that long. He has the unlife experiences of someone that age, cause he is that age. May not look it, but that's the facts.", he throws out there.




She crosses her arms, getting real pouty about this. He zero's in on that lip that's calling out to him. He returns his attention to the blacktop stretching ahead of them. "You're being really unfair and uncool about this.", she whines. He just barely holds back a snort of disbelief. He doesn't think she'd appreciate it too much. "Fine then love, let's play this by your rules then. Let's only count the human years, sod all else. The poof was twenty-six when he was turned, I remember that much. You're still seventeen. So we've got a man in his mid to late twenties trailing after a teeny bopper. An underage girl, since last I checked you're still a kid here till you're eighteen. Even then you're still a teenager for a couple more years.", he amends. She flounders, opening and shutting her gob like a fish out of water. Her arms go slack. "But-", she tries to object. Spike wasn't having any of it. "To make matters worse, you got together a couple of years back yeah? Fifteen year old with a twenty-six year old? Now that's in poor taste, even for The Great Forehead.", he carries on. The Slayer's looking more and more flummoxed by the mo. "Yeah but-", she jumps in once again. He's not done though, not until she sees his point. "I know right, I'm still being so 'unfair' and 'uncool'. So since we knocked you back two years, let's do the same for ol Peaches hmm. Let's swipe off a couple of years for him, pretend the old cunt got to him earlier. Now he's twenty-four, mid twenties. You're fifteen, early to mid teens. Sorry to say this Blondie, but no matter which way you toss the double headed coin, you're never gonna get tails.", he drawls.

Her cheeks pinken, and he wonders if she's embarrassed or pissed. He'd bet it's probably a combination of both. "Since when do you care about the moral implications of age gaps? Surely you've gotten hot and heavy with girls younger than me.", she snaps. He shrinks back from her, due to her tone and the assumption that he's no different from someone like Angelus. "I'm not a monster, at least not that kind of monster. You couldn't pay me to touch a still developing young chit the way he touched you. Even if I was in love with one. If you were my girl, I'd wait till you were done cooking. The most you'd get from me at your age is a peck on the lips and some platonic spooning.", he says in a way he hopes masks the hurt trying to bleed through his voice. He knew she thought the worst of him. He is an evil vamp after all, but to accuse him of getting his rocks off at diddling kiddies leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He's heard all about Angelus' greatest works of art, seen some of his pieces first hand. Hell, his masterpiece is taking up Spike's backseat. That was always an aspect of his Grandsire he never wanted to mimic and outdo. "Platonic spooning?", Buffy chortles. Is that seriously all she got from what he said? The corners of his mouth turn up against his will. "Yeah, and at fifteen it'd be nothing but board games and cartoons. You'd count yourself lucky if you got a hug every once and a while.", he adds on. That gets her really laughing, he can't help but ease back into his seat.




It's hard to be any level of cross with her when she's illuminating his car like this. She quiets down, and they slip into a comfortable silence. Minutes tick by, and he almost regrets opening his mouth about that wanker to begin with. Both his hands are on the steering wheel again, until she slips under his arm. Nestling back into him the way she was before. He hesitantly places his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, about earlier. I know you meant well, and I shouldn't have said what I said. Here you are being uber nice to me, and doing what I think was some sort of attempt at looking out for me. Then here I go calling you a pedo without any evidence of that being the case. I was just, upset, and hurt, and what you said made sense and I didn't want it to.", she apologizes. He's stunned, he wasn't expecting to get that out of her. The stubborn bird seems more likely to jump off a bridge than to say sorry to a chap she doesn't like. Does she still hate him? It sure doesn't look like it, but looks can be deceiving. Maybe her intense hatred's tapered off into dislike. That's not where he wants her, but it's progress. "It's okay love. Hurting people hurt people.", he forgives. He himself's been known to lash out when his feelings are stepped on. She's back to stroking his chest, if they could stay like this for the rest of his days he'd dust a happy vamp. "Is that an obscure quote from somewhere?", she wonders. He lets out a light chuckle. Smart of her to be able to sus that out right off.




"Yeah ducks, some off the wall song you've never heard of.", he teases. She gently smacks his chest before starting to trace patterns in his shirt's fabric with her fingertips. "Knowing your music taste, I don't doubt that.", she bounces back. He expels a mock sound of offense. He'd be clutching invisible pearls in outrage if he didn't need at least one hand to steer. No way in bleeding Hell was he letting go of her to do a bit either. "You're one to talk about music taste! What do you listen to anyway sides tooth rotting pop?", he challenges. She flies up from the seats. Her eyes alight with mirth, her mouth held open with fake shock. "It's soooo not teeth rotting! What about you huh? Who do you listen to besides old guys with mullets and a bad sense of style?", she fires back. This goes on for a while, them sharing their likes and dislikes for various topics. Arguing passionately about everything they cover. They have fun, and Buffy can't remember the last time she's ever had fun. The last time she's ever really took a load off, it was refreshing. She told Spike as much. He reminds her that she gets to do that as much as she wants now. She goes quiet, he immediately starts kicking himself for bringing her back to the real world. Where her life's gone to shit and that's why she has all these newfound freedoms. They were having a good time, as she said. Why'd he have to ruin it? With only a quarter left till they hit The City Of Poofters, he doesn't want their last minutes together spent with her sulking.




"Was it really not my fault?", she asks in the smallest voice he's ever heard come out of her mouth. If he ever went back to Sunnyhell, he was paying her former gang a little visit, give them what for. "It never even came close to being your fault at any given time, Buffy.", he answers honestly. Her lot really didn't deserve her. If it were up to him, she'd never feel like this ever again, she'd never be unhappy. It's not up to him unfortunately. She's not his, he can't go with her. He doesn't think she'd let him even if he could. She throws her body against his in a forceful hug. He's lucky he didn't jackknife off the road due to the sudden motion. He's sure if his door had been open, he'd gone tumbling out of it. He returns her hug with his free arm. Well at least he didn't completely bollocks everything up. "Thank you.", she tells him. He nods against her, not wanting to verbally say anything to break this mo. He'd freeze time right now if he could, make this last forever. She's so warm and comforting. Almost like coming home after a long hike in the woods during a blizzard. Yeah, home, that's what Buffy's hugs feel like. They stay like that till the Welcome To Los Angeles sign reflects against his headlights. He thinks about running the blasted thing over and trekking on unbeknownst to the girl in his arms. He knows that wouldn't work. She's too smart for that, and he can't force her to stay with him. That might work on someone like Dru, but the Slayer's something else completely.




Remembering that his Sire's sprawled out in the back makes his hairs stand on end. How has she slept through all of this, is she okay? He'd know if she wasn't right? He can feel her back there, so he knows she didn't jump out of the vehicle while Buffy and him were too wrapped up in each other. He pulls over, turning off the engine reluctantly. Goldilocks hesitantly pries herself away from him. His arm slides off her shoulders, he tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. "Are we here?", she asks while trying to peer out of the only part of the windshield that's not blacked out. "That we are love.", he sighs. God, he sounds like a sad sap, about to bid his true love farewell. If the Slayer was feeling petty she'd clock him for it, she's merciful this time. She flops back onto the bench seat, Spike turns to her in confusion. Maybe she's changed her mind and decided to follow him. "Can I ask you a question, before I go?", she requests. Or maybe she doesn't want to follow her enemy, recently turned ally, to the ends of the Earth you git. "Well who am I to deny a pretty lady? Ask away pet.", he agrees. She poorly smothers down a giggle, he catches it all the same. He smirks at her, she cracks and lets herself snicker. "Did Ang- what he said to you earlier. It was horrible, he was so cruel to you. If he really sl- if he really hurt you like that... There's a lot of stuff I didn't understand. I have this feeling it was more like a, you had to be there, kinda thing. So the one thing I kinda wanna know is, do you- have you loved Drusilla? Like really loved, in love with even. Cause you're a vampire, and you don't have a soul. Ang- he always said that you can't do that, love I mean, without one.", she nervously rambles.




Here he was thinking the bird was merciful. He gets why she's asking, he really does. Especially since The King Of Broodiness has been planting seeds in her head for whoever knows how long. He tries not to look offended at the suggestion of him being heartless. Of the alternative that he's been with his Sire for over a hundred years just so he 'always' has someone to shag. "I won't get into the specifics of everything about me, but the short answer is yes. The soul is a moral compass. You take that away, and it blurs the lines of right and wrong. You do whatever the bloody Hell you feel like doing without a care in the world. Pair that with having a diet that consists of human blood, and you've got yourself a vamp. The soul isn't where your emotions lie. There's a reason people talk about mind, body, and soul as three separate things. Everyone's different, same thing goes for vamps. They're capable of loving lots of things, including other people. Whether or not they actually will is a completely different story.", he explains. Buffy stews in that for a mo. Not looking at him, or anything really. Mentally checking out is more like it. He gives her time, he'd sit here with her forever if that's what she needed. If that's what it took to stay with her. She eventually comes to and focuses in on him again. "That's the short answer?", she quips. He laughs heartily, his girl sure has spunk. Even when she's having to face the cold facts she'd probably rather leave buried.




"Seeing as how it's the sort of thing philosophers spend their entire human lives debating each other over, I'd say yes.", he dryly says. She nibbles on her lower lip while contemplating whatever she plans on doing next. Spike's mesmerized by the action. "But if A- he was able to love me with a soul, why couldn't he love me without it? Di- did he, even love love me at all, to begin with?", Buffy whimpers. Cause the halfwit's got coral for brains, that's why. Wouldn't know a good thing if it walloped him upside the head with a four by four. "That Pillock was a bastard as a human, and the devil himself as a vamp. He stilled loved you either way; just not in the way you deserved to be loved, and not for the right reasons. His version of love was self-serving, perverted, twisted. He loved Darla cause she was his Sire. She's the reason he's a vamp after all, she made him. He loved Drusilla cause she's his Childe, he made her in every sense of the word. She's his greatest broken masterpiece. With a soul he loved you cause some demon wearing a fedora told him you were his redemption. His ticket to a clean grief free slate. Without a soul he loved you cause you did give him a grief free slate. A way to reign down evil on the world again.", he says with disgust entirely directed at his Grandsire. He smells tears again, and he wants to bang his head against the steering wheel. Did he say too much? Was he too harsh? Oh bollocks!




He moves to wrap his arms around her, she pushes him away. His face falls, he looks elsewhere and withdraws. Of course she'd want nothing to do with him anymore, what with his sick detailed example of how vamps love. Or how that vamp in particular loves, he's not like that oversized neanderthal. Never has been, used to be a sore topic for him. Especially where Dru was concerned. Now he's grateful for it, grateful that he's never caused someone as perfect as his Goldilocks to feel so unwanted and unloved. "So Angel only ever loved me because I was the Slayer?", she bites out. Oh balls, now he's went and brassed her off. With his luck she'll end up taking her frustrations out on him. Shooting the messenger and all that. "Well-", he starts even though he was unsure how to approach this. "And Angelus only ever loved me because I took away his soul, and the only reason I was able to do that was because Angel loved me. Because I was the Slayer, that's what this all boils down to?", she harshly laughs out. Spike forces himself to stay in place, and not to start inching for the door handle to get the Hell outta this car. He wants to so desperately reach out to her again, smooth over the lines of her scrunched up face. He fears another rejection from her, this time she'd surely go off on him. He doesn't bother. He thinks that staying silent while she works this out for herself might be the only way he gets by still unalive.




"So hypothetically if Cordelia, or even Willow, was the Slayer he would've just glossed right over me? He never wanted me, just what I could give him?", she chokes out. His undead heart breaks as she puts herself down in such a way. That cretin wasn't worth her tears, he wasn't worth even a second thought. He risks going in for another hug, she allows it this time. He likes hugging her with both arms for a change. He's been stuck doing it half arsed this entire trip, but this way feels so much better. It feels like he could protect her from all the bad harmful things in the world. That even if the world was falling down, she'd be safe in his arms. "He's a worthless git, don't waste your time pining over him love. If he couldn't look past the Slayer parts and love the amazing woman underneath just as much, then it's his loss. You'll go out there, and meet yourself a bloke who sees how brightly you shine as both. Who sees how: beautiful, fiery, kind, smart, funny, independent, and strong you are. Who sees how hard you try in this world, how selfless, and good, and pure you are. How-", he's all too happy to put down Peaches while singing Buffy's praises. Which he does till she abruptly pulls away, only to surge up and passionately attack his mouth with her own. He's frozen in complete shock for a mo, his eyes about to detach from the sockets. He groans as his eyes flutter shut and his hands slink over her waist.




He kisses her with an enthusiasm only someone like Spike could pull off. Before very begrudgingly pulling away. She chases after him, and it takes all of his self control and willpower not to give in. He holds her back, she pouts at him. He knew he was a goner before, but this just solidified it. Kissing Buffy was a bloody revelation. He though he knew what true, all encompassing, love felt like. That was a mere crush compared to what he felt for his girl. "What's the matter, don't you want me?", she insecurely asks. She loosens her hold on the collar of his duster, he wonders when her hands got there, to wrap her arms around her own midsection. He can't do this, not right now, not for a while. "You know I do, you have to know how you make me feel.", he says with so many underlying emotions clouding his voice. He's always worn his heart on his sleeve, his face all too readable. There's no way she could mistake this for something as unremarkable as scratching an itch, he hopes. "Then why'd you stop?", she questions. Why'd he- was she not here for the Captain Forehead's a creep speech? Though she clearly never saw anything wrong with it, so why would she think twice about kissing him? He bets she doesn't even know how old he is, or how old he was when he was turned if she still wanted to play by that. He leans in to plant a kiss on her forehead, she smiles at him. He lets go of her shoulders, motioning for her to sit back.




She complies, although hesitantly. "Several reasons actually. Let's start with the fact that you're still seventeen, and I'm a hundred and forty-five.", he throws out there. She looks surprised, and he's not sure if he should be offended by that or not. If he's supposed to perceive that as a compliment or not. She furrows her brow, he finds it adorable. Finds nearly every-bloody-thing she does adorable. "But that's like over a hundred years younger than Angel!", she cries out. As if that magically makes all the difference. It's an improvement, sure, but he still dwarfs her in age. "I'm twenty-seven, in my late twenties, if we're playing the sod all my years as a vamp game. I wasn't just talking out of my arse earlier when I said I'd wait for you if you were my girl. I don't know how long we've got, how long you'll have me. If that's what you want of course.", he presses on. If they're gonna be anything someday, provided they don't stay on opposite ends of the world till she passes from old age, he has to set some ground rules. "I do! Want that, want you. Never thought I'd be saying that, it's kinda wiggy, but a good kind of wiggy.", she rushes to reassure him. He softly smiles at her, she melts into the seat. She's never allowed herself to enjoy how beautiful he is, there was always something stopping her. Or several someones who wouldn't approve, but they're not here right now. Not to mention he was always trying to kill her until pretty recently.




She admits this to him, he looks sheepish when she acknowledges his previous hobby. He explained how killing her was his original intent upon arriving in Sunnyhell, then he met her. He was enthralled. Assuming her blood, their dance, was calling to him. Making him crave and want her. Turns out it was more than that. He's not sure if he ever would've been able to go through with adding another notch to his Slayer tally. Now he couldn't imagine hurting her in any possible way. He wants her to be happy, healthy, and loved. She looks moved by the end of his confession, as if she's really seeing him for the first time. He wonders if she is, if she's trying to peel back the tough vamp exterior to see the soft romantic poet underneath. "Do you love me?", she blurts out. She claps her hands over her mouth, her actions clearly mirror the regret she feels immediately bubbling up to the surface. Her body's stiff as a board, she's bracing herself for rejection, he hates it. "I'm so very much in love with you, that if I could stop time and keep you here in my arms forever, I would. Which is why I'm willing to wait till you're older. Wait till you're not wallowing in grief and your head is clear. I wanna do this right, Buffy. Give it my all, give you my best. Will you let me?", he pleads with her. He's made her cry again, but judging by the blinding smile on her face, he'd wager those are happy tears. She throws herself at him again, this time for another hug.




He doesn't expect her to say it back, they never do, but maybe one day she'll love him. That's all he can really hope for. A distant day in the future where she looks him in the eyes, with all the love in the world reflecting in hers, and confesses. She nods against him, he takes that as confirmation of her willingness to be his girl. He's elated, he feels about ten bloody feet tall. He got the girl, he never gets the girl! He's always the hopeless prat that looks on as the over muscled hair brained tosser gets the bird he's been pining over. So to have things for once coming up roses? He's almost convinced this is some sort of elaborate dream sequence, but his subconscious has never been this kind to him. "I'm sorry I can't give you more right now.", she has the gall to apologize. Spike can't believe his ears. She made his entire life and unlife combined just then, but thinks it wasn't enough? That her just simply being here wasn't enough? "My love, my dearest Buffy, you have no idea just how much you've given me. More than I ever thought I'd get, more than I ever could've dared to hope for with you. To know that there's a chance we'll be.. It's all I need for right now pet.", he soothes. He brings a hand up to brush through and untangle her hair. She hums at the sensation, clearly enjoying the attention. Her eyes close. He doesn't want to bollocks up this mo, his undead heart's so full it could burst. He feels like he's where he was always meant to be, with her.




Christ this woman's got him by the short hairs. His inner ponce is already writing sonnets just about her luscious locks alone, and he can't even bring himself to give a damn. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?", she says in awe. Or maybe the chit sounds like that cause she's tired, she has had a helluva day after all. They all have, but hers was probably the most emotionally taxing. She beat him out in that department, but just barely. "I do, but I like hearing you say it.", he jokes. She laughs before lightly slapping his chest. "Smart-ass.", she playfully retorts. He uses his other hand to tilt her chin up, and leans in to give her a light peck on the lips. "Bint.", he counters as he drops his hand from her hair. She whines in protest, he finds it endearing. Smiling lovingly at her, Spike moves to turn the key in the ignition. He freezes, afraid to look back over at her. Was this still her stop, was she still leaving him? Did Buffy expect him to follow her? He would of course, he'd follow her to the ends of the bloody Earth if that's what she wanted. He'd chase after her for eternity if it meant more of this, more of them. She notices his pause. He's not surprised, she'd have to be completely plastered, very stoned, or mentally gone to miss his indecision. He stops pretending like he knows what in the sodding Hell he's supposed to be doing, there was no point in it. He helplessly looks to her for direction, something he's sure she's very used to being on the receiving end of.




He resented following orders, makes him feel like a lackey. With her it's different, as everything with his Slayer seems to be. One's not above the other, they're equal, each other's perfect match. "Can we put that offer to join you in South America back on the table?", she asks much to his pleasure. She was staying with him! She bloody well chose him over whatever the Hell was waiting for her in L.A. "Oh baby, it was never off the table. At this point you could name any place on the planet, and I'd be game as long as you'd be there.", he guarantees. She sits up, just enough to where her body weight isn't on him. Though close enough that there isn't any space between them. He thinks she's too far away. "And what about Drusilla?", she brings up the barmy metaphorical elephant in the back seat. Balls, his Sire once again slipped his mind! Was pushed to the outer edges of his consciousness as Buffy took up the center of it. He feels like a right git, once again, but not for forgetting about her. Well, partially for that, but his unexistence has slipped her mind more times than not during their years together. Let's not even bring up when Grumpy Gramps made a reappearance. Not that it'd count, she didn't forget about him then, she just couldn't give two shits. So turnabout is fair play. He mainly felt like the biggest wanker to ever unexist due to the fact that he never asked her what she wanted during this little excursion.




He'd love to claim that as soon as she woke he had every intention of doing so, but that'd be a load of bull. He was just gonna drag her along for the ride, bugger how she felt about anything. What he Hell was he gonna say to her, about any of this? Sorry love, but we're going to South America with the Slayer. By the by, she's my girl now, not you. I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly. He's not that delusional. He didn't want to hurt her either, she's been hurt enough to last several unlifetimes. He still loved her, she's family after all, but he wasn't in love with her. Not anymore, if he ever was. "Yes, what about Drusilla?", the lady herself calls from behind them. Buffy lets out a surprised squeak as Spike just about jumps twenty feet in the air. He's lucky he didn't of course, otherwise the DeSoto would have a skull shaped dent protruding from the roof. They both whirl around to face the Vampiress. She's sitting upright, she looks calm, inquisitive. He's scared shitless, his entire unlife is flashing before his eyes. Goldilocks looks over at him nervously, he matches her look, she gets even more jumpy. "Poodle! Hey, did you just wake up Sweets?", he awkwardly questions. His girl shoots him a glare from all the pet names he managed to cram into that sentence. He looks at her apologetically, slowly sliding a hand onto her knee in a way that Dru hopefully won't notice. She relaxes slightly, but not much. "I've been awake since the wheels on the bus went round and round.", she tells him while swirling a pointer finger in a circular motion.




"Wheels on the- do you mean when Spike started driving?", Buffy deduces. Dru nods, and he can't help but feel proud of his smart girl. He wants to smile at her and tell her how brilliant she is, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't go over too well with the other chit in the car. "Poor little birdy had to leave the nest.", his Sire coos. Guess she really was around when they booked it from the Slayer's house. Oh God, that means she heard their entire conversation. Heard what he confessed, what Buffy agreed to. At least he doesn't have to find a way to go about explaining the situation that'll result in the least amount of bloodshed possible. Blondie stiffens next to him. Oh right, the deal with her mum. "Dru.", he says as a warning. She takes her focus off his girl for a mo, they lock eyes. Hers fills with tears, he's rarely ever seen her look that sad. It makes him want to reach out to her and apologize for being the one to put that look on her face. "She's here to take you away from me, just like she took Daddy away.", she wails. He's at a loss for what to do. He can't coddle her in front of Buffy, and he can't pull his girl in to reassure her that she's it for him. Drusilla being upset won't magically change that. Everything's gone tits up, like he knew it would. "I'm not gonna k- take Spike away from you.", she tries to placate the distressed vamp. Said vamp furiously shakes her head, slamming her hands onto her scalp.




Her nails dig into the skin, he can smell the blood. He throws the upper half of his body over the seat, ripping her hands away. He holds her wrists away from her body, stopping her from doing anymore damage. She thrashes in her seat. "The Sunshine has taken my family away! Just like Daddy did, now I'm all alone.", she cries. He tries to shush and sooth her without letting go, but there's nothing he could verbally say to make this better. Buffy leans forward, and Spike would be worried for her safety if he wasn't holding Dru back and she wasn't more than capable of holding her own. "What do you mean by Sunshine, and just like Daddy did?", she can't help but ask. He doesn't think she'll get a coherent sentence outta her. Hell, he barely knows what she's on about. What does the sun have to do with anything? Peaches dusted Darla, the Slayer shoved the tosser through a portal, and he on the other hand is still in one piece. "Oh, she doesn't know how brightly she shines. How far her light reaches.", his Sire stops crying to giggle out. Talk about mood swings. The word effulgent makes a brief resurgence in his mind. "Buffy's the Sunshine?", he clarifies. Dru starts cackling, that tells him all he needs to know. "I'm still unalive and kicking, love. She didn't take me away, you're not alone alright? You've still got a piece of your family left eh.", he reminds her. She falls limp, he slowly releases her wrists. She's pressed against the seat, her head lolling to the side.




If her eyes weren't alert and open, he almost would've thought she passed out. "What did Daddy do?", his Goldilocks prattles on. He's honestly near dumbfounded at how respectful she's treating his ex so far. Sure the barmy chit hasn't been openly hostile towards her yet, but she was on Angelus' side till the very end. He'd think she'd have at least one nasty thing to say. "He took away my old family. They're amongst the stars now, I hear them sometimes. They sing the prettiest songs.", she explains with a distant look in her eyes. Spike recoils, he knows exactly what she's talking about. He never knew she still cared about what happened to them. The way she always clinged to the bastard gave him the impression that she was even thankful for what he did. Of course she wasn't, she was a broken girl clinging to her abuser. He feels sick, looking over he can tell that Buffy feels the same. "You mean your human family, don't you?", she whispers. She looks horrified, he thought she already knew about this from the Big Poof. Though hearing it come from Dru herself's a different animal isn't it? His Sire bolted upright, shocking them both. She leaned towards his girl, he moved to push her back. "It's okay.", the Slayer stopped him. He has no idea what she saw in her counterpart's eyes that made her think that was a good idea. He only allowed it since it was clear Dru didn't have her under a thrall.




"I had an Uncle, and a Mummy, and two little sisters. I still remember what their broken bloodied bodies look like. I still remember their screams. My Mummy and Uncle joined the stars first, then it was my sisters' turns. I still remember Daddy being inside of them. They were so young, so innocent, so pure, like I was once.", Drusilla narrates in one of her rare more sane moments. Spike furiously wipes the tears from his eyes. He hates hearing that story, hearing her pain, because he can't do a damned thing about it. She has to live with that for as long as she's unalive. Ironically her only saving grace is that she's usually too around the bend barmy to remember it all. "How old were they, your sisters? How old were you?", Buffy sniffles. Dru looks at the girl sitting next to him sadly. "Nineteen, seventeen, sixteen. The pendulums stopped swinging, but only one clock still ticks.", she slowly says. He looks away for a mo, hoping to compose himself. He needs to be strong for them, he's no good to anyone as a blubbering Nancy Boy. He feels his girl shift, he takes a deep breath. Turning his attention back towards them he's com-bloody-pletely dumbfounded. The Slayer's pulled his Sire into a hug, and the Vampiress is allowing it. He pinches himself, yep, he's awake. That's brings him to the next possible explanation, he's dust and this is some weird version of Hell. Or maybe this is where all the good vamps go, to a place where all logic is thrown out the window and happy endings are passed around like drinks at a party.




"You're two years older than me, he did that to you when you were.. He did that to your sisters and they were.. One was younger than me, she was the same age I was when-.", Buffy struggles to understand as she hugs Dru even tighter. "When everything went dark for a moment, and then there were two.", the Dark Princess finishes for her. He doesn't know what she's talking about, but the chits seem to be on the same wavelength. He almost feels left out. His Golden Goddess nods against Dru's shoulder. They pull apart, his girl wipes her eyes. He wonders just how many times she's cried today. Wonders how she has any liquid in her to spare at this point. "You're not alone, you still have Spike. I promise you can see him whenever you want and I won't go all jealous girlfriend on you. Or you could come with us, I wouldn't mind. As long as you don't go around killing everyone that is, but we can work on that right? We can all be a family.", she kindly offers. He's immediately blown away by her compassion and understanding. Did she just call herself his girlfriend? To have her so openly acknowledging it already is.. He's her boyfriend, Spike is Buffy's boyfriend. He liked the sound of that. He's smiling for that very reason, but hopes Dru'll read it as him being on board with his girl's idea. "Slayer's right, you've got a place here with us. We can always figure out the blood bit later. You bag it anyway to make your special tea, it'll be like that, minus the tea. What do you say, Dru?", he agrees.




Goldilocks seems very appreciative when he mentions bagging it, he figured she would. That's what The Great Git did. He wonders if he could talk her into letting him do the ol catch and release method every once and a while. He's not sure his Sire has the self control for that unfortunately. Which again, is something that's out of her hands. Angelus mucked her up real good, it's a wonder how she can do anything at all some days. The lady in question looks deep in thought. She glances back and forth between the duo taking up the front seat. She lets out a gasp of shock, her eyes almost glazing over. Oh boy, she's seeing something. He only hopes whatever it is won't scare Buffy off, or make her wanna stake him. "The planets have aligned, the stars have shifted. Everything's different! Our William wants to play in the Sunshine, and the Sunshine wants to shine on our William. You've saved him.", Drusilla excitedly tells them. Spike tries not to wince at the mention of his human name. Tries not to remember who last spoke it and why. He pieces together part of what the Vampiress was saying. His girl and him are together, they have some sort of feelings for each other. For him it's love, for her it's want and maybe even like. He doesn't get the bit about stars and planets moving about. "I saved Spike you mean? How?", Blondie wonders. He didn't get that either. Last he checked, she was the one being held at swordpoint by Captain Forehead.




"He was going to burn, but not anymore. Everything's different!", Dru chirps. He feels a tingle go up his spine at the mention of him burning. Christ, was he originally gonna be dust blowing in the wind then? If so what the bleeding Hell changed? Not that he isn't bloody well thankful for her insight, but this seer stuff gets a mite confusing when he has to decode his Sire's off the wall messages. Buffy grips his arm. "He was going to- how does this involve me?", she gulps. He shakes himself out of her hold to wrap his arms around her. Not giving a damn about what the Dark Plum'll say about it. Though he thinks his girl might be in the clear, the birds seem to have this comradery going on. The Black Goddess just shakes her head, choosing not to answer. "Shall we go now?", she changes the subject. Spike frowns. What's going on in that head of hers now? "Go where, pet?", he follows up. She giggles and shakes her head like he should've already known the answer. It ticks him off a tad whenever she does that. If he knew, well then he bloody well wouldn't be asking her would he? "On our family vacation.", she explains. Oh, right, they were supposed to be on their way to South America right about now. He lets go of Buffy, and turns around to fire the engine up. He wonders how far they'll get fore they have to find a motel. He could drive during the day. He's done so plenty of times in the past, but all this talk of him burning has him a bit squeamish. "So you're coming with us? Awesome!", his girl exclaims.




Dru nods, smiling at her. "We're going to have so much fun.", she promises. Buffy bounces in her seat as he puts the car in gear. They're back on the highway, and Spike feels lighter than air. He might as well be stepping on clouds. "That's the spirit!", Goldilocks cheers. Before he even knows what's happening his bird's crawling into the back. He whips his head around while trying to be mindful of the road. He's glad traffic's not a bitch and a half right now, he'd probably rear-end some chap. "What're you doing there, love?", he asks somewhat nervously. When she was up front she had a barrier between herself and his Sire, plus he was there to run interference. Now those two are sitting arm and arm while he can't even watch them to make sure Drusilla doesn't try to use the Slayer as a sippy cup. "Uh, hanging out with my new sister, duh.", she says like it's obvious. His undead heart warms at the thought of her treating the Vampiress like she's blood. The vamp in question looks like she's all for this as well. He can't really say he's surprised, she was whining about family a mo ago. Makes him think that's why his girl worded things the way she did just then. "Of course, ignore me ladies. Please do carry on.", he apologizes. That earns him some laughter from the back. He looks at the road again. "So, do you know how to braid hair?", Buffy asks her sister. He doesn't hear anything for a second, he's under the assumption Dru's nodding or some other gesture. "Do you? Oh! We can take turns!", she squeals. He assumes more signs of agreement are happening. He smiles at the dotted lines painted on the center of the highway, astonished by his luck. A quote comes to mind. 'Caring doesn't sometimes lead to misery, it always does.' He'll forever be thankful that this time was the exception.