“Sodding wanker,” Spike muttered, walking through one of the shops. “Thinks I wanted to give him the slip, just to go after a girl who doesn’t love me… probably chasin’ after her himself, being her ‘one true love’ and all,” he continued, rolling his eyes to fight off the wave of nausea that seemed to course through him at the thought.
Not bothering to pay attention to the strange looks he was receiving, he continued walking through the shop, pulling a leather coat off a hanger that held a vague resemblance to the one that had been destroyed only hours earlier in the bombing.
Slipping it on, he rotated his shoulders, hating the feel of the stiff, new leather, already missing the trusted duster that he’d been wearing for nearly three decades.
“I like this one.”
Spike froze at the sound of the voice behind him. Slowly turning around, he tried to keep from staring at the woman in front of him, involuntarily pulling air into his lungs.
“Buffy.”
Her name was nothing more than a whisper on his lips, but he earned a smile anyway.
“How’ve you been, Spike?” she asked casually, tossing him the coat she was holding.
“Good,” he said in a choked whisper, his answer almost automatic as he continued looking at her. “I’ve been good.”
“Good,” Buffy replied with a nod. “That’s good.”
Spike’s eyes widened as she turned and walked away from him. Standing where he was, staring after her in shock for a moment, he quickly pushed away the shock and began chasing after her. Cursing under his breath at the sound of the beeping store alarm, he hastily took off the coat he was wearing and threw it back into the shop, following the blonde out into the night.
“Buffy, wait!”
Turning around with wide eyes and an innocent expression, Buffy tilted her head to look at him as he approached. “Need something?”
“What the hell was that?” he asked, gesturing toward the store.
“What was what?” she asked, a naïve expression still on her face.
“Don’t play the coy bit, Goldilocks,” he said, studying her carefully, seeing a coldness to her features that he had grown all too accustomed to in the later years of her life. This time it sent a chill up his spine to see it, having an underlying feeling that he was the cause of that expression.
“Surprised to see me?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him.
“A little more so than you were to see me,” he replied, his brows furrowing as he looked at her. “What’s that about?”
“Maybe because it wasn’t a surprise,” she replied, her mouth forming a tight line as she watched him.
“It wasn’t?” he asked, growing more confused.
“We kind of run in the same circles, Spike. There’s not a lot of people who know about the whole dark side of existence, so the few that do seem to are kind of close.”
“How’d you find out?” he asked, feeling slightly ashamed as he avoided her eyes.
“Andrew told Giles… Giles told me… after a few months.”
“Months?”
“Seems that he wasn’t too keen on the idea of me running into your arms.”
“Yeah, well, no chance of that happening,” Spike replied bitterly.
“That’s a double-edged sword,” she said, her lips setting in a firm line as they stared at each other.
“Meaning?”
“You weren’t exactly running into my arms, either,” Buffy said, trying to control the emotion in her voice.
“Buffy-”
“So, I did a little research,” she continued, tilting her head to the side slightly, never taking her eyes away from him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spike asked warily.
“It seems that you made quite a few enemies over the years, Spike.”
“And?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.
“And,” she continued, “I wasn’t too happy when I heard that you’d been back for months but decided not to look up the woman you claimed to have gotten a soul for.”
“Buffy, I-”
“So, like I said, I did a little research,” she said, pretending not to hear his attempt at placating her. “Obviously Angel is the enemy that you really hate, but he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the info that you were back, even though he knew how I felt for you, so he’s not exactly on my good list.”
“Alright…” he said slowly.
“And it seems like there was someone else who really got under your skin…”
“The Immortal,” Spike growled.
“Yeah… he actually just prefers to be called Erik.”
Spike’s features continued to darken as he stared at the woman in front of him. “You did this for my benefit?” he asked, clenching his jaw.
“Basically,” she said, her features finally softening slightly. “Just a way to play with you… I wanted to make you realize that you can’t ignore something and expect it to go away.”
“Never wanted what we had to go away, love,” he said quietly. “Just didn’t think you’d take too kindly to the fact that your choice for a warrior didn’t really pull a champion move.”
“You think I care about that?” she asked, staring at him in disbelief. “I never needed a champion, Spike. I needed…”
“Someone you can snuggle with on the couch,” Spike filled in, looking at the ground.
“You talked to Andrew,” she muttered, suddenly regretting her plan.
“I did,” he replied in a cold voice.
“There was no snuggling,” she said, looking up at him with a sigh. “Andrew was in on the plan. With Erik I… I seduced him… without the actual seduction,” she added hastily, seeing Spike’s eyes darken as his jaw clenched.
“Then you two haven’t…”
“The last person I was with… was you,” she whispered, taking a step forward and cupping his cheek, an act more than a little reminiscent of the night she gave him the amulet. “The night before we went into the Hellmouth,” she whispered in a choked voice, remembering the tender way he’d held her. The gentle kisses and soft whispers. The way they’d been able to share everything. Being able to love each other like they had never been able to in the past.
“So… you just thought… what? That you’d make me jealous?”
“It got you here, didn’t it?”
Spike suppressed a smile, biting his lip when she approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t I get a kiss?” she asked coyly.
“And all is forgiven?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“If you kiss me? Sure. I can forgive you,” she said, biting her lip to fight the smile when she saw the look he was giving her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Aww, you mean I have to be forgiven?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Don’t give me that look,” he said, still trying to repress a smile.
“You know you wanna forgive me, Spike,” she said, brushing a kiss to his lips.
Closing his eyes and deepening the kiss, Spike clutched at her waist, pulling her more fully against him. Gently nibbling on her bottom lip, he smiled when Buffy pulled away, giggling. “What about me?” he asked after a moment.
“What about you?” Buffy replied in a teasing voice, trailing a finger down his chest and over his stomach.
“According to you, a kiss means I’m forgiven. So, what of it, love? Forgive me?” he asked, arching a suggestive eyebrow and biting his lip as he watched her.
“Fine,” she said, pulling him closer to her, her lips nearly touching his as she whispered, “You’re forgiven… You big jerk.”