After exiting the cemetery, Buffy and Spike walked in silence for several minutes, each stealing occasional glances at the other. Buffy tried to think of something to say, but the situation didn’t seem to call for quips and banter. Walking side-by-side, her hand on Spike’s arm, felt intimate and formal at the same time. She finally turned her head to look at him and smiled nervously. He smiled back at her. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked.
“Yeah, that must be it. Did you see where it went?”
He laughed, “Listen, Buffy, I know this seems more than a little strange to you, but back when I was a human I escorted my sisters whenever they went out. As weird as this may seem to you, it feels oddly familiar to me.”
“Oh, I see, I remind you of your sisters.” Spike couldn’t help noticing that Buffy looked crestfallen as she said this.
“No,” he replied, “not at all. You are so unlike my sisters.” Seeing Buffy’s brow begin to furrow, he quickly went on. “They were both very frail. Rebecca was never strong. Eventually they both suffered from consumption. And they were timid. I can’t imagine either one even speaking to a man unless he was a relation, and even then they were terribly shy.”
Buffy stopped, turning to look at Spike she asked, “Do you miss them?” He looked puzzled.
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought of them in so long. I don’t remember the last time I even spoke of Rebecca and Emma. It’s just walking with you like this brings it all back. You can’t imagine how many times I took one or both of them out on my arm just like this.” At this Spike put his hand over Buffy’s where it remained on his sleeve.
“So I do remind you of them,” Buffy said again, looking directly into his eyes this time, more curious than disappointed.
“Maybe just a little. Emma did have green eyes, and she was about your height, but I think it was that bloody poem you made me read aloud. Since this afternoon it’s as though parts of me I’d thought long dead are somehow still alive here inside.” Releasing Buffy’s hand, Spike pointed to his chest, his eyes betraying confusion.
Suddenly uncomfortable with how close they were standing, Buffy started to move away. Spike reacted with vampire speed, catching her hand gently and placing it back onto his arm. “I was supposed to be walking you home, wasn’t I?” he said, falling into step beside her again as though nothing had happened. “Shall we proceed?”
As they resumed their stately pace, Buffy realized it was easier when they were in motion -- the surreal quality of the experience just carried her heedlessly along. The dark streets were deserted, as usual, few Sunnydale residents daring to venture out after dark. She was the only witness to this unprecedented pairing, and then only when she stopped moving long enough to notice what she was doing. Spike had acknowledged out loud what she had already noticed. He was different with her now; gentlemanly, protective, and controlled. ‘That’s it!’ she thought. ‘He’s restrained.’ As courtly as his manners seemed, it was her awareness of the underlying tension, the barely bridled desire that was so compelling. She’d seen Angel struggle against his desire, but he’d gone all sullen and broody -- withdrawing even to the point of appearing hostile toward her. In marked contrast, Spike contained himself within a smoothly polished demeanor that left her feeling cherished rather than rebuffed -- his regard for her never in question.
'I’m bloody well buggered now,' Spike thought, as he walked beside Buffy. 'I gave my inner William an inch and he’s taken a bleedin’ mile! I can hear her heart pounding away and her scent is driving me mad. If I was me I’d drag her under that tree and shag her until she couldn’t walk straight. But apparently I’m not me. So we’re taking a promenade instead. Please, can’t somebody just stake me so I don’t have to face an eternity of unlife trying to live this down?'
Neither one spoke again until Buffy’s house was in sight, the windows all dark. Spike was first to break the silence. “Looks like everyone’s in bed.”
“Makes sense,” Buffy replied. “Mom goes to bed right after dinner these days. The treatments pretty much wipe her out. Dawn probably gets bored with no one around and ends up going to bed early too.”
“Well I’m sure she could use the sleep,” Spike muttered. “She was out until nearly daylight.”
Buffy stopped dead and stared at him. “Excuse me? She was what?”
‘Bollocks,’ Spike thought, 'I’ve gone and put my foot in it now.’ “What, you didn’t know?” Spike asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“No! I didn’t know!” Buffy said, suspicious now. “And how is it you know when Dawn’s is coming and going?”
“I was…you know…around and I saw her…climbing out her window.”
"What were you doing ‘around’ here?” Buffy asked, her distrust growing with every second.
“I, well I…sort of…you know…followed you home.”
“You followed me home? Are you stalking me now? And how do you know what time Dawn got back? You said you saw her climbing out of her window. Are you stalking her too?” By now Buffy was really wigging.
Spike took a step back and tried to keep his voice calm. “Buffy, it’s not how you think. I was here to see that you got home all right. That’s all. When I saw Dawn leaving, I followed her to make sure she didn’t run into any trouble.”
Buffy was reeling. “This is great, so great. There’s a hell god after Dawn, she’s out traipsing around after dark, and I don’t even know it – the person who is supposedly protecting her. But that’s okay, that’s not a problem, because she’s got a Master Vampire as her guardian angel!”
“Buffy, please don’t use that word to describe me. Okay, I did follow her. She went to her friend Janice’s house. I don’t think the parents were at home. There was some sort of party. So I just hung around until she came out again, and I followed her back. Once I saw she was safe inside I left. That’s it. That’s all, really.”
Buffy stood very still looking at Spike as though he had just landed from outer space. “Who are you? And what have you done with Spike?”
“Very funny, Buffy. Listen, I’m really sorry that this is coming out this way. It’s my fault but please just let me explain.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think I’ve heard enough,” Buffy said, backing another few steps away from Spike. “Something is very wrong. I should have known when you started being nice to me. I think you should go now. And you can forget about our deal. That’s off. No poetry, no first name calling. We’re back to being enemies again. Good night, Spike.” Her voice was cold as ice.
Buffy turned on her heel and sprinted the last few yards to her porch. She was inside, her back pressed against the door in a matter of seconds, her heart was pumping wildly and her face was streaked with tears.
Spike stood disconsolate under the street light his hands shoved deep in his pockets, staring at the pavement. He waited until he heard Buffy ascend the stairs. His vampiric hearing let him hear as she checked Dawn’s room, although he already knew Dawn was asleep in her bed, as was Joyce just down the hall. When he heard Buffy close the door to her room Spike turned and stalked back toward his crypt, missing by seconds the sob that escaped her lips as she threw herself onto her bed.
“Bollocks, bollocks, nothing but sodding bollocks!” Spike repeated as he lurched toward the cemetery. “I knew I was saving that bottle of Jack for a special occasion,” he said, bitterly. “Well this is about as ‘special’ as it gets!”
Tbc…