Willow showed them where they could change and even offered to put them up for the night in the spare room with an air mattress but Buffy was quick to tell her they’d already booked a hotel room. When the redhead frowned, Buffy told her that they’d spend the evening with them after the gathering but that she never intended to put her out on such short notice - given the circumstances - and that it was nothing personal. Willow seemed satisfied with her answer but made her promise to come over for breakfast the next morning and stay until the funeral was over and they had to fly back.
~~~*~~~
The group of friends spent two hours with Xander’s parents and their respective relatives, before leaving. Buffy and Spike went to check into their hotel and change into more comfortable clothes before returning to Willow’s house.
The five of them hung out for several hours, the men having a couple of beers while Buffy, Anya and Willow shared a bottle of wine, none of them looking to become intoxicated but rather to take the edge off their nerves, to relax. They all sat in the living room, recalling different memories of Xander which sometimes led to laughter and other times to tears.
Buffy noted with curiosity that while Spike had been right there throughout it all to offer his shoulder when she periodically wept, he had otherwise remained ‘distant’. He seemed awfully quiet and very uneasy when he had to exchange hugs with anyone, particularly the relatives who mistook him as another one of Xander’s friends.
Now that it was getting closer to eleven, Buffy announced she really felt the need to get some rest after the long day they’d had and the one they had yet to face tomorrow. After agreeing on a time to come back for breakfast, everyone said their goodbyes and the blond couple left.
Spike still hadn’t said much of anything, not during the drive to the hotel, once they’d gotten there and unpacked or even after they took turns showering. Earlier, she’d dismissed his behavior thinking he just felt out of place, like an outsider because he didn’t know anyone. But this didn’t seem to be the case anymore since he had yet to say one full sentence. This coming from a man who rarely kept his mouth shut no matter where he was and especially around her had her concerned.
As she sat on the bed combing her hair out, she watched him lying in his own bed, looking very much like he was reading his book. But when she didn’t see the familiar left to right scan of his eyes – plus the fact he hadn’t turned the page in some time - she knew something was wrong.
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin with surprise when Buffy came to sit on the bottom corner of his bed, folding her legs Indian style as she stared at him. “You alright, pet?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” His only response was a look of bewilderment. “I noticed you’ve been rather quiet since we arrived and you seem kinda… far away.”
He shrugged, offering her smile. “`M fine. My only real concern is you.”
As touching as that was, she didn’t believe him… not entirely anyway. He was hiding something from her and she was determined to find out what because it bothered her to see him acting this way. When he tried to bury his face back in his book, she carefully reached out and took it from him, thankfully without any form of protest on his part.
“Hey,” she said softly, waiting until his eyes met hers. “This is me here. Please talk to me, Spike, you’re worrying me.”
And he could tell that she was, all evening long, too, judging from the sideways glances she’d occasionally shot him. It was exactly the reason he didn’t want to say anything. She currently had enough on her plate to deal with and telling her about his mixed up feelings would only burden her so he’d refrained. He was going to stick to his plan and avoid the subject, but in true Buffy form she was staring at him with those wide pleading eyes that begged him to open up to her in a way he knew he couldn’t deny.
So, with a heavy sigh, he told her, “Was somethin’ Anya said when we first arrived. `Bout there bein’ only so many moments you can be with that special someone in your life and not to go wastin’ `em.” Hopefully he’d said enough and she’d leave it alone.
“I see.” But she didn’t, not really. “Go on.”
Bugger. “I don’ know how to… I jus’ don’ understand how all this happens. The process, you know? I didn’ know the bloke, sure, but… how’s a person s`posed to grieve?” He waited for an answer but all he got from her was a nod for him to continue. “I've never done this before. Grieved. Gone through losin’ someone. I mean, I only knew `bout him through you and listenin’ to your friends and then... he's not there...there's jus’ a body... bloody hell, not even that!”
Now she was beginning to understand. He’d never lost anyone close to him, so the whole grieving process he was witnessing through her and her friends was foreign to him. He was really stressing out over it and she felt for him. Being a control freak, much like herself, she could empathize. After all, she was at a loss last night before it sunk in and the tears began. And the more he talked, the more frustrated she could see he was becoming, so she was determined to let him get it all out before responding.
“I don' understand why Xander can’ jus’… get back in his body and not be dead anymore. `S a stupid thought, I know, but mortality seems stupid. And I watched you cry and then sometimes not talk at all.” It’d crippled him every time he watched her sob, hurt inside his chest fiercely that he couldn’t make her stop, couldn’t make it better. “And when I was havin’ a beer I thought... Xander will never have another beer. He'll never get to shag his wife again or have another chance to tell her he loves her. And even if someone explained it to me, `m still not sure whether I'd understand or not."
And that’s what brought him to his knees, the whole idea of death. That someday, everyone would die. And those moments Anya had spoken of not to waste? He was scared he’d never have those. That Buffy may not be willing to be his someone special when she finally made up her mind. Then when he died, he’d die alone. With no one left behind that loved him, to remember him, mourn for him… nothing!
Buffy could tell that he didn’t notice he’d stopped talking or that there were unshed tears in his eyes. Her heart went out to him but she truly didn’t know what to say. Any words right now would seem like a petty attempt at making sense out of something so complex and to the depth he was obviously feeling it. Her own eyes watered as she moved forward to wrap him up in her arms and he immediately clutched her waist, hauling her as close to his body as he could before burying his face in her neck. They stayed like that for a long time, each giving and taking solace from the other in equal measure during the silence.
When Spike finally lifted his head, he had to close his eyes against the tender feel of her tiny thumbs wiping away his tears. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. He was supposed to be here to support and comfort her. Not the other way around. But she was an angel, his Buffy, so amazing and so very beautiful as he raised his heavy lids to witness her smile. And it soothed him to the point that he didn’t want to think anymore about death, about not having her in his life, about anything. “Make me forget. Jus’ for a li’l while?” his plea was barely a whisper.
Her answer was to lift his covers and crawl underneath, holding them up until he did the same. She reached out and switched off the bedside lamp before turning over to crawl into his waiting arms. He clung to her, weeping silently, trying to hide it and she was still at a loss for words. She wasn’t even sure what he wanted her to make him forget. Leaning her forehead against his, she repeatedly ran her fingers through his hair slowly and hoped he would tell her more. “What do you want to forget?” It took him a few seconds before he spoke, and when he did, what he told her shook her to the core.
“Those moments and that special someone? For me that’s you, Buffy, and I… I jus’ wanna pretend that you... A-at least for a li’l while.” He sucked in an anxious breath, afraid how she’d react over what he was about to ask of her. “Make me forget. Please? Pretend that you care `bout me… if only for tonight?”
Buffy was awestruck at the raw pleading she heard in his voice, the profound emptiness she saw in his sad eyes. Here was a man that projected confidence and swagger; never gave a glimpse of his true inner self away to anyone. To see him this humbled and needy in front of her made a lump form in her throat as her hand dropped from his head onto the blanket.
The tiny fingers trailing through his hair were suddenly gone and he cringed, waiting to feel the sting of her rejection. What he received instead was a miracle.
She pressed her lips against his softly, willing and able to give him more than what he’d asked for. “I don’t need to pretend.”
~~~*~~~
In the morning, Buffy woke up to Spike spooning himself against her back, holding onto her as if she were about to vanish. She took comfort in it, but it also had her thinking heavily about everything he’d told her before they went to bed.
Last night made it twice now that he’d exposed how he felt about her. Twice now he showed her how much power she held over him where his feelings were concerned. It was reassuring yet scary at the same time.
Reassuring in the sense that it ‘appeared’ he felt the same way about her as she did about him… but that’s exactly what made it so scary as well. No, make that terrifying because she had yet to make up her mind about them. She knew how she felt and that she was perfectly queued up to take the plunge and he would be more than happy if she did. But last time she let her feelings rule her actions she’d gotten burned, badly. And while this situation was entirely different, there were still things, factors she felt she had a right to fear.
Spike wasn’t that old, had transformed himself almost overnight and though it seemed genuine, she knew the impulsiveness that came with youth made people change their minds in the blink of an eye. This meant he could, too, whether she made him wait or let him in now. Plus there was always a chance that things wouldn’t work out over time because she may not be what he thought he wanted.
Again, it all came back to the issue of time. She felt damned if she went with her heart, damned if she didn’t by waiting too long. But maybe that was the safest route. To wait. If enough time passed and they both still felt the same way then they stood a stronger chance at having something long term. She was getting older now. Her biological clock was ticking and although she hadn’t thought about having kids as of yet, there was a chance he may want some eventually; if they ever made it to the altar that is. All the more reason to wait, to be sure.
Before she had a chance to dwell over the headache-worthy issues any longer, Spike slowly began to move behind her and then made that adorable purring sound, like Sebastian when he was happy only much deeper and way more masculine.
The first thing Spike noticed that clued him into the fact he wasn’t in his own bed or alone was the sweet feminine smell of wild flowers. He refused to open his eyes yet, choosing to linger in that state between waking and dreaming, inhaling the essence of the woman he was fast coming to realize meant the world to him. Having never stayed the night with any woman he slept with, this was a first – well, a third time since he'd known her. But he was grateful she was his first in this way.
“Good morning,” she said softly to let him know she was already awake.
Pulling her hair aside, he kissed the spot between her neck and shoulder, his rumbling voice murmuring back, “Good mornin’, pet.”
She shivered and melted, if it were possible to do both simultaneously. Yeah, she could shove aside her thoughts for now and just enjoy the feel of being with him. He tugged on her waist, encouraging her to turn over and face him so she obliged.
He looked in her eyes, willing her to see the gratitude he held for her compassion and understanding from last night. Saying thank you for it simply wouldn’t begin to cover how much it meant to him. He’d bared his soul and she hadn’t rejected him. And he loved her all the more for freely instilling hope in his heart.
“We need to get up before the alarm goes off,” she commented after seeing it was ten minutes before eight on the clock from over his shoulder. Better to separate now, she thought because the longer he looked at her, the more tempted she was to kiss him, morning breath be damned.
“Yeah,” he agreed, giving her waist a quick squeeze before releasing her and rolling away to get up.
~~~*~~~
Anya had chosen to stay the night at her in-law’s place so she wasn’t present for breakfast at Willow’s. Once the meal was through, Oz and Spike collected the dirty dishes to place in the sink before Willow shooed them out into the living room, leaving her alone with Buffy so they could chat.
Telling her the plans she had for cooking several one-dish meals for both Anya and Xander’s parents so they had less to think about over the next several days, Buffy immediately asked for another apron so she could help. They still had several hours before the funeral and it felt good to be distracted by doing something nice like this for them.
By the time they had several different casseroles, lasagna, chili and what not prepared to just pop in the oven or over a stove, it left them with about an hour to get ready for the ceremony.
With everyone dressed in the stereotypical black attire for the occasion, both couples piled into Oz’s van and drove to Sunnydale Memorial Park. Willow quickly explained that Anya thought Xander would want his ashes spread there next to the small pond. It was where they’d all spent the majority of their childhood and adolescence hanging out and the memories the place held were of their best of times. His ashes were divided up into several small boxes, so that each person, save for Spike, could say their silent goodbyes in their own way before releasing him into the wind.
Arriving at a small clearing which was taped off gracefully with a ‘Funeral in progress’ sign in case there were other visitors to the park, the four of them took up their places in the borrowed chairs from the church where Xander’s parents attended.
Spike still felt uneasy, being the only stranger amongst a group of people who’d known each other their whole lives and under such depressing circumstances, too. Based off what he’d seen on television, this was a most unconventional funeral. But it didn’t stop the gloom of grey clouds that rolled in to cover the sun, a miserable reminder to everyone what this day was about.
He sat next to Buffy at the very end of the front row just holding her hand while the preacher gave a homily. Nearly everyone there was crying or sniffling and his girl was no exception. He’d given her his cloth handkerchief when she first started and wrapped an arm around her when she leaned against him.
There were a few eulogies given by relatives, but Willow was the only one of Xander’s friends who had the emotional strength to stand up and give her own. But the redhead became so choked up shortly after talking about how he’d broken her yellow crayon in kindergarten that Oz quickly came to her aid and brought her back to her seat.
The preacher took the small boxes containing the deceased’s ashes and handed them to the appropriate people before taking his place at the head of the crowd and saying a final prayer.
“In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord, Jesus Christ, we entrust our brother Xander’s soul to Almighty God. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May the Lord bless him and keep him, make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace. Amen.”
“Amen,” the word echoed back poignantly by all present, bringing the service to an end.
Everyone slowly dispersed; some helping to gather up chairs and such while Xander’s parents came to stand before his widow and the two young couples. Thanks or any other pleasantries were out of order so they simply hugged everyone present and agreed to meet at the church for the wake after each took care of their individual goodbyes.
Spike followed Buffy as she walked towards a tree near the embankment of the pond, standing back several paces to give her some privacy. He could just make out her quiet mumblings, but whether she was talking to herself, Xander or perhaps God himself, he couldn’t tell. Her shoulders shook when she was through, making him want to go and comfort her but he stopped himself knowing she needed to do this by herself.
Opening the box, she swiftly threw its contents up high in the air, watching with a sad smile as the light breeze took care of the rest. She turned to make her way towards Spike who stood there motionless, his hands clasped in front of him, blue eyes trained on her approach. When she reached him, he handed his handkerchief back to her and she moved to stand by his side, taking hold of his hand while staring at the place she’d left her friend behind, feeling hollow inside.
“Love and death,” he solemnly mused out loud.
Though he continued looking straight ahead, she turned to him and asked, “What?”
“The only two things in this world that have the power to change everything……… love and death.”
It seemed such a simple thing to say, but the impact it had on her ran deep as she stared at him in awe.
“I see it now. `S not how long you live, but how you live that life and… and Xander’s was full `f love. And people who love him.” He shoved his free hand in his pant’s pocket and let out a sigh. “Somehow, I think he knows that and-” turning to face her, he told her, “-I think he’d want you to know that and for you to have the same. Live your life and be happy with however much time you’re given.”
“Yeah,” she whispered while nodding, clutching his hand tighter.
~~~*~~~
After the wake, Spike and Buffy went to the hotel to change back into casual clothes, check out of their room and then drove to Willow’s to spend an hour with her and Oz before having to head to the airport. The change in time zone and the six hour flight made for an exhausted pair of blonds by the time they landed in New York at one AM on Friday.
Each toting their individual suitcases while heading towards the exit, Spike happened to spot one of those photo booths… and had an idea.
“Come on, pet.” Taking hold of her free hand, he all but dragged a bewildered looking Buffy behind him towards the booth.
After setting his things down and fishing through his wallet for money, Buffy had a pretty good idea what he was up to and immediately tried to protest. “Spike, I’m not in the mood to have my picture taken. I’m tired, cranky and-”
“And tha’s exactly why we’re doin’ it,” he finished for her while grabbing her belongings to set them alongside his. Putting his money in the machine, he yanked her inside and closed the curtain. “I miss your smile and this here is perfect for makin’ you. Now smile.” But she frowned at him after he wrapped an arm around her, ruining the first shot.
“Don’ make me bloody tickle you, Summers,” he warned, but it went unheeded as the second click caught her with her mouth open ready to give him her two cents.
“I look horrible right now, Spike, please don’t do this to me.” And the third click caught her glaring at him.
“You’re always beautiful to me,” his voice softened as he ran his knuckles down her cheek. “And `m gonna keep shovin’ my money in this blasted thing `til you smile… for me.”
She cursed him for being so caring towards her and relented. Evil, evil……… sweet man, she had to admit. Facing the camera as he leaned his head against hers, she allowed herself a straight face as the last picture was taken.
Stepping out of the booth, Spike waited impatiently for the strip of film to slide out, grinning happily when he got it and saw the last photo. “Perfect.” Even in black and white he thought they made a very good looking couple. Maybe I’ll dress it up a bit, he thought to himself, get it blown up to a bigger size. Though she didn’t technically smile like he wanted, neither did he when the camera went off. But somehow, it’d captured them perfectly.
~~~*~~~
Having dumped her luggage in her room and thrown on some night clothes, she came back into the kitchen to see Spike had made them both tea and was waiting for her at the table to join him.
“Think you should stay home tomorrow, luv. No one expects you to come back to work the day after a funeral.”
“No.” Shaking her head emphatically, she gave him her reasoning. “No, I’d rather be occupied, stay busy than to be here alone and have too much time to think.” She bent over to pick up Sebastian when he came over rub his body against her bare ankle, begging for attention.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s what I prefer.” She put the kitten in her lap and stroked his back. “Thank you for being there, for coming with me.”
Placing a hand over hers he smiled. “No need to thank me, pet. Though `m gonna have to get somethin’ nice for Cordy for everythin’ she did. Any ideas?”
Chuckling, she told him a sizeable gift card to any of the top places to shop would probably be the best way to thank her.
“Well, tha’s easy enough. I’ll pick one up tomorrow. You ready for bed?”
Downing the rest of her tea, she nodded. “More than ready. I swear I could sleep for a week.” She took both their cups and placed them in the sink, smiling to herself when she turned around to find Spike waiting for her, holding his hand out so he could walk her to her room.
Once he bid her goodnight and disappeared into his own room, she realized just how drained she felt. Sleep, however, was anything but forthcoming despite how tired her body and mind were. She tossed and turned endlessly over the next hour and a half until she couldn’t take it any longer. There was nothing on her mind, not really. Just an itchy, restless feeling she couldn’t shake.
“This is ridiculous,” she said to herself as she got out of bed, determined to go into the living room and find something to read or maybe watch some boring late night TV, hoping it’d make her fall asleep. But by the time she rounded the corner and looked at the sofa, she realized it wasn’t going to work. Oh, it was a comfortable enough place to sleep alright, but there was one thing it lacked… Spike.
She didn’t want to disturb him by any means; God knew he needed his rest just as much as she did. But her feet were carrying her to his bedroom anyway, somehow knowing he wouldn’t mind. Turning the doorknob slowly, she slipped quietly into his room and went to his bed to sit down.
“Spike? Spike, are you awake?” she whispered, but all she heard was the continuous sound of his snores, a sign that he was in a deep sleep. As carefully as she could, she raised the covers and slid beneath them.
He was on his back, one arm stretched out in her direction, the other lying across his bare chest. Inching herself closer to him, she laid her hand on top of his, knowing the contact was what she needed more than just being able to lay next to him.
She closed her eyes and sighed with relief once she was able to rest her head on his shoulder without waking him. A few moments later, however, his body twitched and she felt him trying to lift the arm under her cheek. She held her breath when he shifted on to his side facing her, hoping he was still asleep. No such luck however when she heard his groggy voice speak her name.
“Buffy?”
“I… I couldn’t sleep, so I kinda let myself in. You don’t mind… do you?”
“Mmmm,” he moaned in response and curled his arm in order to drag her body close to his. “Not at all, kitten. Feel free to stay with me every night. I sleep better when you’re with me anyway.”
“Thanks.” Apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d grown addicted to this. If sleeping with Spike were a drug, she was fast becoming a junkie. And she feared she wanted no part of any cure.
He nuzzled his nose just underneath her ear and purred while pressing a gentle kiss in the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver. Seemed he’d found an erogenous zone she didn’t know existed. Thank God it was only a matter of seconds before he was softly snoring again. The idea of sharing the same bed with him every night was becoming more and more appealing, but she knew they couldn’t keep doing this. It would eventually lead to physical intimacy, and she just wasn’t ready for that… yet.
