Fifteen
And even though the moment passed me by
I still can't turn away
Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose
Got tossed along the way
And letters that you never meant to send
Get lost or thrown away
And now we're grown up orphans
That never knew their names
We don't belong to no one
That's a shame
But if you could hide beside me
Maybe for a while
And I won't tell no one your name
And I won't tell em your name
Scars are souvenirs you never lose
The past is never far
Did you lose yourself somewhere out there
Did you get to be a star
And don't it make you sad to know that life
Is more than who we are
You grew up way too fast
And now there's nothing to believe
And reruns all become our history
A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio
And I won't tell no one your name
And I won't tell em your name
I think about you all the time
But I don't need the same
It's lonely where you are come back down
And I won't tell em your name
“What are we gonna do now?” Buffy waited until they were back inside the apartment, unable and even a bit unwilling to figure out what he was thinking.
“Not sure, kitten.” Spike couldn’t lie to her. He really didn’t know what to do at this point. He never would’ve brought her here if he’d had any inkling they’d run into something like this. Some perverse part of him was almost glad they’d been discovered. Almost.
Truth was, better someone from the good guys found them before Harris or MacDonald did.
Pushing gently passed her, Will headed straight for the kitchen. He flicked on the radio, impatiently waiting for the sports report to end so that the real news would be broadcast. By now, either of Nikki’s daughters had probably spilled to their father or their brother Robin, and more than likely the brass wanted to talk to him. He just wasn’t sure whether he’d be talking as a witness or a possible suspect.
Seconds later, he had his answer.
“A family spokesperson stated earlier today that retired Detective Nicholette Wood spent her last day doing what she’d always done – investigating crimes. Sources in the NYPD said Detective Wood was working with an unnamed undercover officer, who has since gone missing. The Department is now conducting an exhaustive search for the missing detective.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, absently pulling Buffy into his arms. The next words from the reporter, though, had his blood running cold.
“While the NYPD isn’t naming any names or suspects, sources state the murder of Detective Wood could be connected to the brutal slaying of former IRA operative Liam Reilly, who was killed three nights ago in Manhattan. Police are also looking into reports that a young girl who witnessed Reilly’s murder disappeared from Roosevelt Hospital within hours of Reilly’s murder.”
“Fucking hell!” Will dropped the arm he’d wrapped around Buffy’s shoulder, whirling out of the kitchen in a rush. His heavy boots thumped ominously across the floor, accompanied by an endless incomprehensible rant that blistered Buffy’s ears.
“Who the fuck gave you up?” Will stomped his way around the living room, leaving scuff marks on the floor. “Who? Bleedin’ Christ! Don’ they bloody well understand what kind ‘f danger this – aargh!”
Buffy watched from the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes focused on the crazed madman in front of her.
“Screwed! This whole bloody situation is – God fuckin’ damn it all to bloody hell!” Spike punched the wall twice. “God damn it to hell! I wanted to keep you safe! Somebody’s got to take care of you!”
Another series of blows punctuated his statements and he kept ranting, his angry voice filling the apartment, letting his rage get the best of him.
He didn’t realize how far gone he was until Buffy’s hand captured his before it hit the wall again. “Will, please.”
Beautiful green eyes brimming with tears stared up at him and he inhaled deeply, feeling the edges of his temper recede. He swept her trembling body into his arms. She was so vulnerable, alone with no one to protect her. No one to watch over and take care of her. And she needed it. Needed someone. Needed him to protect her.
“Oh, kitten.” He held her tightly, arms wrapped completely around her. “‘m so sorry.”
Buffy’s response was muffled into his chest, the words nearly unintelligible. But what he could hear, he understood. “Oh god, Will. Don’t.”
She pulled back, wiping away her tears. “You have taken care of me.”
“No, ‘ve just put you in more danger.” He couldn’t look at her any longer. It hurt to look at her.
“What? No! A whole heaping world of no, Will. You’re the only person in the – in forever who’s really cared what happened to me.” Buffy tentatively reached out to touch his cheek, to run her fingers over the muscle ticking in his jaw, but she drew back, afraid of his reaction.
“Will, look at me, please?” Her voice was a soft whisper, thick with unshed tears. When he glanced down, her smile nearly blinded him. “I’m safe, because you’ve kept me that way. I feel safer with you, right now, than I’ve ever felt in my life.”
She could see he wasn’t really listening. That he didn’t believe her. He narrowed his eyes, preparing to convince her otherwise when Buffy realized it was up to her to convince him.
“I am, Will. I’m safe.”
Then she did the only thing she knew would keep him from arguing.
She pulled him closer, lifted her mouth to his and captured his lips in a deep kiss.
“Charles?”
“Hey, girl. What’s up? Why you calling me now?” Gunn shifted through the paperwork on his desk, trying not to interrogate his sister too much.
“You’ll never guess who I ran in to earlier.” Alanna paced the bland precinct hallway, almost whispering into her cell phone. It had taken hours for her to get away, since the victim hadn’t survived the trip to the hospital, and there had been even more time spent processing the paperwork.
“I really don’t have time for this.” He was about to hang up when his sister emitted a bark of laughter.
“Yeah, you do.” She paused, then asked far too casually, “How’s your partner?”
Gunn hunched over, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Where?”
“Way the hell uptown.” Alanna moved, putting her back against the wall so she could see anyone approaching.
“How far?”
“The Heights.”
“Shit.”
“And your boy wasn’t alone. Had a pretty little thing all wrapped up tightly.”
Sensing someone behind him, Gunn cut off the flow of words from his sister. “Right. Thanks. I’ll see you at Mom’s in the morning.”
He flipped his cell phone shut, spun around on his chair to catch Faith Lehane inches away. “Fuck, Lehane, back the hell away.”
“New squeeze?” Her teasing had an edge he didn’t like, though his response wasn’t much better.
“No. And it’s none of your damned business anyway.”
“Really? Coz it sounded like you were all growly and sexy.” Faith’s leer matched the evil twinkle in her eyes.
Because she was getting under his skin, and thinking on the fly, it was easier if he stuck to the truth, Gunn snapped out, “That was my sister.”
Faith’s expression clearly said she didn’t believe him at all, but wouldn’t press the issue. Her words, though, bought into his explanation. “Gotta love it when family rags.”
Gunn shot her a disgusted look, getting up from his desk. He really needed to get away from her. “Yeah. I’m heading out. Catch you tomorrow.”
She watched him go, then trailed after him.
It was only her full body shiver that broke their kiss. Will reluctantly pulled back, his concerned eyes checking her carefully. The hem of her pants was wet, small puddles of icy water forming beneath her feet. Her cheeks were unnaturally red, while the rest of her was far too pale.
“Hell, kitten. You need to get into somethin’ warmer.” He realized for the first time she was still wearing his jacket and Will shook his head at their own stupidity. “Go on into the bathroom, a warm bath ‘ll warm you right up.”
“I’m fine.” Buffy shrugged out of the too big jacket, hanging it over a kitchen stool.
“Right. Sure you are.” Will sighed, watching as she rubbed her hands together. “Go on, Buffy.”
When she hesitated too long for his liking, Will pushed her toward the bathroom. “If you aren’t in there in ten minutes, ‘ll put you there myself.”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth when Will realized his blunder. Buffy was staring up at him over her shoulder – her eyes wide and full of knowing vulnerability – her mouth tugging up with an impish smile.
He was intensely aware of her fragile femininity. Will crowded her, stepping closely, his breathing heavy. He wanted nothing more than to touch her, to watch her while she soaked, skin glistening in the water – but he couldn’t.
He knew he couldn’t.
Yet that didn’t stop him from wanting her. Nor did it stop the multitude of images assaulting his brain.
A low, rumbling sound emanated from his chest, possessive and strong. “Better go now, kitten.”
With one look up into his eyes, Buffy fled.
The warm bath had done wonders for her sore and tense muscles, though it left her mind free to wander. It didn’t take long for the wandering to focus on her companion. He confused her, scared her, set her heart thumping and yet, for all that, he made her feel safe.
More than an hour after she’d gone into the tub, Buffy emerged, wrinkled and warm, every inch of her relaxed. Even though her body was eased, her mind was still in a whirl, still perplexed by her guardian and his latest actions. Unable to pigeonhole him into merely the guardian label, to think of him as just a cop doing his job, Buffy mulled over how to describe him.
If he was just another cop doing his job – watching her – Buffy was certain he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to worry about entertaining her. He wouldn’t care that she was bored and had nothing to do, wouldn’t worry about how she was feeling. He wouldn’t have taken her to his favorite place in New York.
So he wasn’t just doing his job.
That didn’t mean he had deep feelings for her. Didn’t mean he really cared. Though he had responded both times she’d kissed him, she’d been the one to initiate. She’d been the one to pull him closer and press her lips against his. He’d reacted, but he was male. And obviously straight, so it was understandable that he’d react.
His reaction didn’t mean he was emotionally involved. It didn’t mean anything other than he liked her kisses.
And none of it would mean anything in the end. Because no matter how he felt, in the end, he would probably let her go. He would. She knew he would. Even if he wanted otherwise, he would let her go.
Buffy didn’t – couldn’t convince herself – believe otherwise. No one wanted her.
Using one of the two towels to dry off, Buffy tried to recapture the peace she’d found in the Cloisters, but it was too delicate. That momentary respite from the craziness of her life was merely a tiny band-aid on a still bleeding wound.
Maybe someday it’ll be better. Maybe.
But life, reinforced by recent events, only proved that she couldn’t rely on anyone. The brief moments of peace she’d found today would have to last her for years.
Instead of approaching him about food, Buffy left him alone and toasted one of the bagels he’d gotten earlier that morning. She ate in silence, waiting and listening for some sign that Spike’s temper had dissipated.
There was nothing.
She checked on him one last time before making her way to the bedroom. He was standing with his back to the kitchen, staring out into the night. Buffy could barely make out his reflection in the glass. His face was set, his eyes unfocused and distant. His anger – the frustration – was obvious in his stance. He was stretched to the breaking and Buffy sighed softly, wishing she had the courage to reach out to him.
She wished she could show him what his caring had given her.
He needed to focus. Needed to pay attention to what was happening. To try and figure out what would be the best next move.
Hours had passed since they’d run into Alanna in the elevator. She’d probably called Charles the minute she was free. Their window of safety was slipping. Will had no trust in some of his fellow officers and some of them had little love for him.
An outsider, he’d had to prove himself to the rank and file officers, while he’d been the darling of One Police Plaza. Until now. Will wondered if this mess would be the final straw, the one that finally sent Scotland Yard reeling. Though he knew his intelligence and facility for languages would always be an asset, it might not prove enough of one to save him if this all went belly up.
He’d made a colossal mistake spiriting Buffy Summers out of hospital, though at the time it hadn’t seemed so. The danger had been real and imminent. There had been someone after her and whoever it was knew him. Which only pointed to someone on the inside.
Ruling out Gunn made sense, at least outwardly. But Will wasn’t entirely sure of anything, much less his current partner’s loyalty. Can I trust Charles? Can I trust anyone? He had complete faith in his current handler – Rupert Giles – but did he have the same amount of trust in the rest of his team?
Will was no longer certain he could trust anyone.
Not now.
Not since someone had gotten to Nikki.
Who had known about my connection to Nikki?
Who?
“He’s been spotted.”
“Where?”
“Still in Manhattan.”
“How long ago?”
“Less than a day.”
Silence greeted that statement for long minutes, then, “Tail the other. Eliminate on sight once contact is made.”
“Who?”
“All of them.”
So sorry for the delay in posting, but life has been incredibly stressful, so for that I apologize. I'm going to try and push to get these stories done, coz I know the patience with me is pretty much at an end. Happy New Year Everyone and may it all prove fruitful and full of good things. Blessings, NiaI/i>