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Author's Chapter Notes:
a quick little chappie which hopefully will tide everyone over until later tonight. I'm sorry that I haven't posted sooner. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your words are food for my muse. please R and R
“Tell me something about your past.”

Spike looked up from the book he’d been reading; surprised that Buffy was still talking to him. The rest of school had been spent either listening with boredom to teachers or casting occasional glances at one another. The last she’d spoken to him had been right after he revealed those nancy boy sketches in his notebook.

The Brit was certain that his girl would be unhappy if he told her that he’d torn them out as soon as they arrived home, stuffing the pages into an empty drawer. He hoped desperately that they would remain there. The poof would have a field day if he found out.

The drive home had been silent except for the sounds of ‘The Kinks’ playing in the background. Sure, Buffy had held his hand for a moment but her eyes still retained that look of betrayal. Spike had broken the speed limit in order to rush home, the hazel orbs seeming to accuse him of an unknown wrong.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she kicked him out of their room. What’s worse is that I would obey.

A hand moved across his face causing the Brit to abandon his thoughts.

“Hello earth to Spike.”

“Yeah pet, I heard you. Was just thinking is all.” He shut the book carefully, turning the edge of the page into a bookmark. It had been a gift from his mother just before she passed and was the one thing that he had kept by his side constantly. The cover was battered and close to falling off but still he did not put it away. The only time Spike hid it was when Angel decided that they needed to get to know each other better. It often was caused by one of the poof’s drunken binges but the Brit had yet to refuse him. It was downright humorous watching Peaches spill booze all over himself as he recounted past exploits. Spike had all the entertainment he needed right at home. The bleached blond smiled warily at the woman beside him as she grinned brightly.

Here goes nothing.

“Do you have any particulars luv?”

Buffy threw herself into the couch, shaking her head to indicate her openness. She was amazed that the man had not shrugged away her request and instead was actually willing to divulge something. Her hands fisted self consciously in her lap, sliding a glance at the worn book which Spike had carefully placed beside him. It was obviously precious to him and she fought the urge to ask where it had come from. Another time she thought, resisting the chance to inspect it again. Pay attention Summers!

Spike sighed, leaning his head back until it rested on the couch. This was harder than he had expected. “When I was younger, my da’ and I would go out onto the lake. It was barely warm at best, filled with gigantic fish that I used to have nightmares about.” He chuckled dryly, combing his fingers back through his slicked back hair. “I was fourteen at the time and was just entering that rebellious ‘devil may care’ phase. Back then I was only known as William and was a right ponce to be blunt, wore tweed and was known to spout off Wordsworth during lunch breaks.” Azure eyes caught hazel expecting to see a smirk or appraising look but instead found only rapt attention. Buffy is actually interested… bloody hell. “I guess you could say that I was ready for a change and hadn’t really understood why there was all this fuss concerning my mum. She'd not been right for a while but the doctors had given her the all clear six months before. My da’ and her had wanted to celebrate by going to see summer home they owned in Bath; ‘to relive memories’ as they put it. I should’ve known something was up the moment I heard them say it, but I was blind back then, caught up in my own affairs.”

The Brit clenched his jaw in an effort to fight back the wave of emotions which threatened. If only I had been there he thought bitterly. I could’ve prevented it. Spike leant into Buffy’s body as she moved closer and decided to continue.

“There was this bird, who lived in the heart of the town, called Cecily. She’d never given me the time of day but I was desperate that year to prove that I could be more than William the Bloody Awful Poet. Da’ had warned me not to leave the property but I did so anyway, running across town until I finally found her.”

“What happened then?” inquired Buffy gently. Spike’s voice had become steadily deeper as the tale progressed, leaving her to wonder what dark secret he was carrying. She had expected some story about him and Angel in LA, running into trouble and having a fight. The man’s confession was something entirely different.

“She told me that I was beneath her”, Spike muttered, rolling his eyes at the childish retort. If he had known for one second that he’d been wasting his time on the idiotic chit he would never have bothered disobeying his father. He waved off the consoling expression that Buffy gave him, knowing that ultimately it didn’t matter. “S’ long time ago pet. I’m over it…" His voice became rougher as he recalled the way he had cried over her rejection, tearing up the stupid poem he'd written. "I didn't take it well back then though. Bloody well walked around that sodding place for over an hour before hiking my miserable arse all the way home. I was too ashamed to face my parents” he admitted quietly, “and instead went over to the lake.”

“The water was troubled, odd ripples playing along the surface when I knew that no one else was around. I hardly noticed walking on the edge of the embankment until I saw my da’.” Spike turned his face away from Buffy to make sure that she couldn’t see the tears which welled up. He willed his voice to remain stoic, clenching his fists as he ground out the next words. “He just stared at me, a small body hanging in his arms. It took me a full minute to realise that it was my mother." Spike closed his eyes, knowing that now he had started this tale he needed to finish it. Buffy was the only other woman who knew besides Drusilla. Hopefully she wouldn't taunt him about it.

"It turns out that my mum had come looking for me just half an hour before and in one of her fits fallen into the water. By the time my father got to her, she had drowned…” Spike recalled the blue tinge to pale slanted cheeks which were all that he could see through tendrils of black thick hair. ‘The body’, as paramedics had referred to his mother, had already taken on the signs of rigor mortis, hands clawing the air in a final bid for life. Spike had collapsed to the ground, clutching at his hair as his father silently strode towards the house. That had been the last time he looked him in the eyes.

“God Spike… I’m so sorry.” Buffy reached for his hand, flinching slightly when it remained firm.

“As I said pet, it was a long time ago.” Spike slowly let his eyes meet hers, blue orbs the colour of polar ice daring her to pity him. Nothing anyone could say would make the man forget that her death was his fault. He expelled a breath of air from his chest, feeling like a weight had been lifted as Buffy enveloped him in a hug. Slowly the man let his body relax into her embrace.

He barely heard Buffy's question, taking a second to respond when she asked what his mum's name had been.

"Anne", he whispered quietly. "Her name was Anne."





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