Spike’s left leg jumped up and down in a steady rhythm, his fingers nervously tapping on the Formica table attached to the booth he was sitting in. Glancing between the clock and the door, he waited for Buffy to appear, worrying himself into a fidgety wreck in the mean time.
“Can I get you anything, sweetness?” the waitress asked him for like the tenth time since he’d sat down.
“I-” he started but then zeroed in on the girl who quietly slipped into the restaurant. “I have everything I need,” he finished, watching Buffy approach his table and slide into the booth.
The waitress took one look at the skinny girl with her eyes lowered to the top of the table, and turned pea green with envy. Some girls have all the luck. Probably has no clue the guy is a goner for her. She huffed a little at how unjust it seemed. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll-”
“We’ll start with coffee, strong. Then she’ll have the Chocolate Chip Pancakes and the Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity with strawberry compote,” Spike interrupted. He knew if he didn’t order something filling, she wouldn’t get enough for herself to feed a flea. “Double that, luv,” he added with a flirty wink.
The waitress smirked, writing down all that he’d ordered and watching the girl tense with barely repressed anger. “I’ll bring your coffee right out. It’ll be a few minutes for the food.”
“I may have been dead two weeks ago, Spike, but I can order for myself,” Buffy ground out between clenched teeth after the waitress left.
“Admit it, love. You were only going to order the Cottage Cheese, weren’t you?”
She looked away, pouting slightly. “I wanted something light.”
“Any lighter and you’ll cease to exist, Slayer,” he groused. Then he thought over what he’d said and mentally groaned. “I’m sorry-”
Buffy snorted. “Don’t be. Casual statements about my death are of the good. At least you aren’t constantly asking me if I’m alright.”
“Are you alright?” he said with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows.
She narrowed her eyes on him. “It’s a good thing I like you, mister.”
That brought him up short. “You do?” It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was a start.
“And here I thought I was being obvious,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” he grinned unrepentantly, feeling on top of the world from her admission.
“Coffee?” the waitress interrupted, turning over the cups that were already on the table, pouring Buffy’s first.
“Thank you…. AHHH!” Buffy screamed as scalding hot liquid was poured over her hand, the waitress shaking as she stared at her eyes.
“Fucking clumsy bint!” Spike roared, and with a lightening quick backhand, sent the steaming decanter flying across the restaurant to smash against the wall. He clenched his jaw to keep from screaming as well, feeling the searing pain reverberate from the girl clutching her hand straight into him.
“Oh my God!” the waitress cried, mopping up the spilled coffee with the hand towel she kept attached to her apron. “The meal will be free, please don’t sue, I-I don’t have any money!”
“What’s wrong here?” A stern man had approached when he heard the commotion.
“Vera here tried to boil the skin off my girl, that’s what!” Spike bellowed, making the sobbing waitress cry even harder.
“Elaine, go back to the kitchen. On second thought, you better take the rest of the day off,” the man told her in no uncertain terms. He returned his attention back to the odd couple. “My deepest apologies, sir. I’m the manager of this establishment and of course, your meal will be free. And we’ll take care of any medical expenses arising from this incident as well.”
“It’s ok, really,” Buffy said softly, cradling her hand. It really wasn’t that bad, now having decreased to a dull sting, but Spike’s eyes were alight with righteous anger and she was afraid to draw any more attention to her shifting eye color.
Even the manager was now staring at her with something akin to obsessive curiosity, further goading Spike into some sort of action, which she hoped, would only be verbal.
“What you staring at, you bloody git?”
“Uh, I…uh, nothing, sir. I’ll just…I’ll-” the man stuttered as he continued to stare between Buffy’s strange eyes and the flashing gold in Spike’s.
Growling, Spike told the man, “Try not to let your mind wonder there, Gump. It’s too small to be out by itself.” Satisfied, he watched the man slink away back to the kitchen.
“Was that really necessary? I’m fine now, see?” She showed him the back of her hand, gasping lightly when his cool fingers soothed over what was left of the burn mark.
“It still hurts.”
“How did you…”
“The blood, kitten. I can feel shadows of things from you. If it was a full-on claim, I’d feel them with sharp clarity.”
“W-What else do you feel…from me that is?” she asked quietly after a different waitress laid their orders in front of them and quickly hurried away.
But he didn’t answer her. Instead, he poured several ounces of Tabasco sauce over his food, and began eating with gusto. “Tuck in,” he ordered her around a mouthful of eggs.
“But what about-”
He pointed at the large helping of food in front of her with his fork. “Eat! Then we’ll talk.”
“You’re so annoying,” she mumbled and nibbled on a slice of bacon.
“I’m multitalented, love. I can talk and annoy you at the same time.”
She chuckled with mirth and shook her head. “Don’t I know it.”
“Oi! If you don’t start eating, I’ll natter on about the time I was stuck in Harris’ basement…in Bermuda shorts and a tacky flowered shirt,” he threatened, watching her eyes shift to a deep green.
She shuddered. “No thank you! Although…I would give anything to have a picture…purely for remembrance sake of course.”
“Cheeky cow, you’d use it for blackmail!” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently.
“Nuh uh…and did you just call me a cow?” she said in mock outrage. “I thought a stiff wind would knock me over?”
Something stiff would, he thought, shifting in his seat as he returned to eating. “It’s a term of… affection,” he explained, stuffing a slice of pancake in his mouth so he couldn’t say more.
“Oh. Well I-I like ‘pet’ or ‘kitten’ or even ‘love’ much better.” She whispered the last endearment and looked him in the eye.
This left him at a loss. He wanted to pull the broken Slayer across the table and snog her until she had no breath left in her. But he didn’t kid himself that he anything more than just cold comfort to her. And that he couldn’t live with. He settled for wrapping his booted feet around her smaller ones under the table, interlocking them so they were at least touching.
They ate in companionable silence until Spike finished his meal and slid the dishes to the edge of the table, ready for the wait staff to get enough courage to pick it up and whisk it away to be washed. He watched Buffy still picking at her food with the fork and sighed internally. Chit’s gonna be the death of me.
Ignoring her gasp of protest, he selected the Buttered Pecan syrup from the wall caddy and began pouring it over her hotcakes, coating them liberally. He then sliced them up into bite-sized pieces and held a mouthful out to her, dripping with the liquid confection. “Eat.”
She just frowned with a moue of petulance and crossed her arms. “I can feed myself, you know.”
“Well, since you don’t seem to be doing that, I thought I’d help.”
“Were you this helpful with Dru? No wonder she left…” she drifted off when she realized that, yes, those words had indeed come out of her mouth. And from the look on Spike’s face, she might as well have staked him.
He dropped the fork on the plate with a clang and moved back to the furthest corner of the booth, staring out the window at the dark sky as bolts of lightening flashed across it. Sure he’d felt her ire at being force fed, but she didn’t seem to want to take care of herself so what was he supposed to do? He also felt her deep regret over making the comment about Dru, but he reasoned with himself that he deserved that mental slap – for making her do something she didn’t wish to. And underneath it all, a deep sadness that stemmed from being yanked from Heaven. Fucking Scoobies really did a number on her this time!
It must have been some time later that she grabbed his attention again with her sniffles. “I cleaned my plate,” she murmured, eating the last bite of her toast.
Glancing down, he saw she had indeed eaten everything that was put before her. He shifted his gaze to her face and saw that her eyes were a deep indigo, tears swimming in them as she swallowed her bread. His first instinct was to apologize profusely that he’d guilt-tripped her into eating, knowing that she’d finished off her food as an apology of sorts, but the full and satisfied look on her face prevented him from doing so.
“Feel better?”
She smiled tremulously as the tears spilled over. “Stuffed…and sleepy.”
“Good. Maybe you should get back home an’ kip a bit before the meeting tonight,” he suggested, but thought better of it once he saw her face fall.
“It was kinda hard getting out of the house. Willow was all like ‘Hey Buffy, did ya miss us?’ And Tara kept asking her to be quiet, saying that I just wanted to be alone…all while I was locked in the bathroom. After my shower, I practically ran to my bedroom to get dressed. Then I snuck out the door while they were in the kitchen making breakfast. I really don’t wanna sneak around all afternoon. Can’t we just stay here until this evening?” she pleaded miserably.
“The staff is giving us strange looks as it is, pet. Best we move on. We, um, could head back to my place…if you want,” he offered hesitantly. His crypt was somewhat tidy, but it was also…a crypt. Plus, the last memory of Buffy in his home was not one he wanted to repeat, her blank stares as he tried to explain his actions just before she died. He didn’t know if she’d even absorbed any of the information, but choose not to repeat the scene – just in case it would send her packing.
“Yes, that would be nice.”
Throwing the manager a glowering look, he ushered her out the door before she could rescind her answer. Once outside, Spike draped his duster over her head and wrapped it around her body so she wouldn’t get thoroughly soaked from the drizzling rain. “We’re gonna have to make a run for it, pet!”
They ran through the edge of town until they came to Restfield, weaving their way through the headstones until she spied his crypt. The route was familiar to her, having been there several times before she died, then once when she was brought back. She’d wandered aimlessly that night, finding his door opened slightly and entered quietly to gaze at the items in his living area. That’s all she remembered, to be honest, because being on autopilot only allowed instinct to control her actions. There hadn’t been any time for living or remembering up to that point. Lately though, she felt an influx of memories rush through her mind, be it from actually ‘living’ or because they were Spike’s thoughts she had no idea.
“I know you’ll never love me.”
She nearly whimpered when that particular flash of memory surged through her. Spike…standing at the bottom of her staircase, looking up at her as if she were his salvation, before the battle with Glory. He had no hesitation about joining the fight, looking forward to it with relish she supposed, even after she admitted that they wouldn’t all make it.
“Yeah,” he agreed as he swung a rather large ax, looking back at her. “Always knew I’d go down fightin’.”
She shook her head. “I’m counting on you…to protect her.”
He gazed earnestly at her, never batting an eyelash. “Till the end of the world. Even if it happens to be tonight.”
She looked at the thoroughly soaked vampire now, fiddling with the latch on the door and opening it to admit her first. So much had changed since that night. She shrugged off his duster and gave it a good shake, dispelling all the water that had gathered on it. Spike just shook his head like a wet dog, water spraying everywhere, including on her.
“Hey!”
He just gave her a wicked smile and shook his head some more, moving closer to her, making her laugh. “What can I say love? Always been evil!”
“I know I’m a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that’s…”
Tears suddenly filled her eyes and her knees buckled beneath her. Sensing the rush of emotions flooding her, he quickly grabbed her before she hit the floor and carried her to the dusty couch in the corner. By this point, she was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe, so he began patting her back lightly, not wanting the full tilt headache that would certainly resound in his head if he pressed any harder.
“Easy, kitten, easy. What’s got your knickers in such a bunch?” he asked quietly, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“I’m sorry – so sorry,” she sobbed, covering her mouth to keep the screams from escaping.
“For what? Getting my duster wet?” He was confused by the emotions bombarding him; deep regret being the strongest one.
“God, how can you,” she hiccupped, clutching his duster to her face. “How can you even think of touching me?”
Spike was across the room in seconds, hunched over the sarcophagus. Slayer didn’t want him touching her then he wouldn’t touch her, simple as that. Except it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was with her. He turned to look at her with a miserable expression, one that mirrored her own.
“Do you wanna go back home, Buffy?”
“Do you want me to?” she whimpered, her nose red from crying and her eyes bloodshot from exhaustion.
“Doesn’t matter what I want, Slayer. Never has. And quit answering a question with a question, damn it!”
“NO! I don’t want to go back there! I want to stay here, with you! But I can’t even comprehend how you could stand being around me, like this, when all I have ever done is treat you like…like…”
“A vampire?” he answered quietly amid her shrieks.
She glanced away in shame, shuddering in self-hatred. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be able to stand my presence.”
“Ah, but you’re not me, least wise not the last time I checked, which is a good thing.” Maybe I’m wrong…maybe she’ll let me touch her…
“How can you be so glib about all of this?” she yelled in outrage.
“I’m not glib about it! I’m dealing with it, the way I’ve always dealt with people who tolerate my presence. I annoy the fuck outta them!” he roared back at her, silencing the next words on her lips.
She couldn’t help herself at that point. She started laughing. Laughing so hard she doubled over, giggling so loudly and for so long that it was infectious. It pulled Spike into a peal of laughter as well, in part from the feelings trickling from her to him through the bond and some of it from simple fatigue.
Many moments later, they quieted down as Buffy patted her hand on the coffee table in front of her, indicating she wanted him to sit down. “Tell me.”
As he sat down, he grew uneasy at her request. “Tell you what, exactly?”
“I-I don’t remember that night, when I came here…a-a couple weeks ago. I mean, I remember showing up, but the rest is kinda blank. Tell me I didn’t say something really terrible to you.”
Clearing his suddenly parched throat, he wondered what he should tell her about that night. “I found you, just staring at one of my mags on the floor. Didn’t even know I’d come up from below, with a dagger no less. Warned you about villains with knives at your back. You didn’t seem to care at that point,” he said softly, taking one of her hands in his, rubbing the knuckles with his long thumb.
“Your hand! Your hand was all…well, it looked like you’d smashed it into a rock wall!” she gasped, clinging to his left hand as the memory emerged. She looked at his knuckles only to see some slight scaring, the wound itself already gone.
He stared at her. How had she guessed that’s precisely what he’d done? He’d been so enraged with the Scoobies, not to mention overwhelmed by the fact that she’d appeared at the top of her stairs alive, he just had to let something go. And shattering his knuckles against a harmless wall seemed like the thing to do at the time. “Yeah, I-I just banged it up proper like.”
She crooked an eyebrow. “How?”
“Never you mind, Slayer. You wanted to know about that night, I’m tellin’ you. Shut yer gob,” he snarled, watching her smirk in response.
“Didn’t say much, really,” he continued. “You just sat an’ listened to my ramblings.”
“That’s it?”
“What? Not gory enough for you?”
“You know, you get so defensive over the least little thing,” she observed. “No wonder you and Dawn got along so well. I bet it was like two teenagers trying to baby-sit each other.”
“Speaking of the Bit,” he said casually, trying to steer the subject away from the time during her death. “Saw her drive off with some git. Was it your da?”
Buffy sigh heavily and nodded, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “She’s visiting with him and his latest ‘secretary.’ Some spa weekend thing or something like that. She didn’t really want to go, but…and I know this sounds bad, but I-I needed a break. And since he is the parental unit, I couldn’t really say ‘no’. He’s just a factor I really don’t want to deal with right now, and it was easier to agree with his plans. Still doesn’t mean I liked it.”
“Bloody prick, if you ask me,” he complained on her behalf. “Did he ever make it to Joyce’s grave? Did he even care that she died?”
Her far away look told him the answer before she did. “He never called and I haven’t spoken with him until just recently, about Dawn. So…he doesn’t know she’s…she’s gone.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep from crying. “He didn’t even know I died,” she whispered.
Spike pulled her wringing hands into his own at that admission of hurt. He squeezed her fingers until she finally looked up at him, blinking away the tears that gathered there to give him a watery smile.
“Buffy,” he began, choking back his own emotions as he tried to explain things she didn’t know had happened, to make her understand that her sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. “Buffy, we all watched you die…Willow, Xander, Anya, Giles, Tara…Me. And especially Dawn. Dawn knew better than anyone, what your sacrifice was about. Love is a powerful thing, pet, probably the most powerful thing this world has to offer. Don’t go wastin’ it on a buggerin’ git like your da.”
“I know you’ll never love me.”
She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on his hand. “I missed you,” she whispered, opening her now deep blue eyes to stare at him.
Whimpering he laid his forehead against hers. “I missed you so much…and…I’m so sorry I failed you when you needed me most.”
She looked at him with confusion. “But Spike, you never failed me.”
He practically gagged on his next words, but they needed to be said because she didn’t remember. “I promised to protect her…” he paused, trying to keep from making a bloody sodding Nancy boy out of himself. “If I had done that…even if I didn’t make it…you wouldn’t have had to jump.”
Gently, she laid a hand on the hollow of his cheek and caressed it, willing him to believe her. “Of all the people I’ve known in my life, you are the only one I could count on to always be there…for better or worse.”
His raised eyebrows prompted her to continue. “Spike, I knew before Glory even took Dawn that I wasn’t strong enough to defeat her in ‘life’. I told you that we wouldn’t all make it. I included myself in that as well. The First Slayer said death is my gift. I just needed to come to terms with that knowledge. Towards the end, I finally realized what I had to do. And you know what? You bought me the time I needed – to make sure that what I did mattered.”
Leaning into the hand that was pressed against his cheek, he let the silent tears course down to mingle with her fingers. “I want you to know I did save you,” he said, fighting the sobs. “Not when it counted, of course, but ... after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again ... do something different. Faster or cleverer, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways,” he rambled, finally stopping and gazing into her eyes.
She wiped the tears away softly with the pad of her thumb. “Sounds like you’re asking for forgiveness.”
His silent nod confirmed her suspicions. “You know, for such an insightful vamp, you really don’t use it on yourself much, do you? You realize you had no control over me dying, right?” She waited for his response but got none as he hung his head in shame for some supposed crime.
She tenderly laid her other hand on top of his head, running her fingers through his soft, damp curls. “There’s nothing to forgive. I know, had you been given the choice, you would have saved both Dawn and me. You even said that you’d sacrifice yourself if it came down to that.”
“I saved you every night,” he repeatedly murmured, taking deep, unneeded breaths.
“But I needed you here, with Dawn. I knew she would be safe with you, with me being gone. You kept your promise, Spike…just like I knew you would.”
His body became wracked with sobs as he laid his head on her knees, clutching her calves. She continued stroking his loose locks, trying to keep from crying any more than she already had that day, but he was making it difficult.
“You know, you’ve always seen me, the heart of me with your insight. Which when I first noticed it, it gave me a major case of the wiggins. But then it became disconcerting and I chalked it up to ‘it must be a Spike thing.’ Then it became comfortable, and normal. Now? I kinda need it, cuz sometimes even I don’t know half of what’s going on with me. You’ve steadied me, helped me through some really crappy stuff to get me here…to this moment.”
As his head lay in her lap, he finally ceased sobbing while listening to her talk, gently stroking her calves. He wanted to always remember this, because even if she said she didn’t want him around anymore, he would still have this moment. But he was totally unprepared for her next sentiment.
“You know, in those last days…when Glory kidnapped and tortured you?” she asked with a gulp and felt him nod his head. “You proved yourself so much that day, and after that. When I told you that we weren’t all gonna make it, I think I knew it would be me.” She rubbed his back up and down when he clutched desperately at her legs in reaction to that statement. “It’s ok. I’ve figured it out now…what was missing in the place where I went. I was homesick for you, even in Heaven.”
He began crying in earnest now, sobbing against her legs. “I saved you, so many nights,” he whimpered.
“I know,” she crooned while stroking his head and rocking him back and forth. “Forgive me for being so slow on the uptake in this?”
There was no answer needed by either party. Both had been through Hell and back in such a short amount of time that words seemed to pale in comparison to the experience. Of course Spike forgave her, that was a given. And he had received his mercy from her as well, feeling that she was actually trying to nurture the growing bond between them.
“It’s almost six, pet,” he said with a muffle against her thigh.
“I could’ve gone a couple more hours without reality rearing its ugly head, you know,” she complained. “Do we really have to do this?”
He pinched her hip. “You started it. I’m just helping with damage control.”
She swatted him playfully on the back of the head before he raised his face near hers, the signs of his grief written in the lines at his mouth. “What are we going to say?”
“Well, four out of the five voices in my head say kill.”
“Only four?” she chuckled. “What does the fifth say?”
“Not right to mention it in polite company.”
Ah, must be something lewd. “I’m not in a polite mood. Tell me anyway,” she coaxed.
He nuzzled her cheek with his, his soft breaths lifting the hair near her ear. “Fifth isn’t really ‘saying’ much. A bit more of an action bloke, though.” He kissed the skin near her earlobe and smiled when he felt her shiver.
“Actions, huh?” she panted heavily, pressing small kisses along his rigid jaw line.
“Unless you want me showing up to your little Scooby meeting with a raging hard on, pet, I suggest you stop what you’re doing,” he admonished gently, pulling away while cupping her cheek.
“Sorry. I just feel like I have to make up for lost time.”
His thumb stroked her silky skin as he smiled tenderly. “Got all the time in the world, Slayer. And it’s all yours.”
“Good to know.” She grinned at him before heaving a very put upon sigh. “Come on, Custer, let’s go make our last stand.” Pulling Spike to a standing position, she handed him his duster.
“Yeah, love. Odds are about the same,” he agreed and followed her into the damp night air.
The shadow waited until they were some distance away then finally emerged near a streetlamp. It smiled and doffed a hat, following the Slayer and her vampire. “Things are about to get very interesting, indeed.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
MANY MANY Thanks go to Dusty273 and Im_Bloody_English for helping me suss out this fic so that it doesn't cause helpless readers to scream in agony. And best wishes to Tina on a speedy recovery - even though she laughed at my misfortune of editing the wrong chapter until it was too late....grrr!
For Sotia, who I keep missing - but one of these days, my little bow and arrow will find that little Greek butt of hers and pin it down for a conversation :P
It just occured to me to let you know that most everything is canon up to this point in the Buffyverse except for the fact that Giles didn't leave. He still has his old apartment and such. Also, there are lines from "The Gift" and "After Life" laced within this. I'm sure you'll figure out which ones. I trust you're smart like that ;)
As a side note. I love IHOP - they have great food! The dishes mentioned in this chapter are from the actual menu, as well as the type of syrup *Buttered Pecan* which is the BOMB DIGGITY! If anyone wants to send me a bottle (cause i have to drive 2 hours to the nearest IHOP) I will be your slave for life. Also, I make only assumptions ON MY PART that an IHOP manager would do what mine does. Thus I have hopefully cleared my name (and TSR) of any legal wrongdoing... phew...I'm tired now.... ENJOY!
For Sotia, who I keep missing - but one of these days, my little bow and arrow will find that little Greek butt of hers and pin it down for a conversation :P
It just occured to me to let you know that most everything is canon up to this point in the Buffyverse except for the fact that Giles didn't leave. He still has his old apartment and such. Also, there are lines from "The Gift" and "After Life" laced within this. I'm sure you'll figure out which ones. I trust you're smart like that ;)
As a side note. I love IHOP - they have great food! The dishes mentioned in this chapter are from the actual menu, as well as the type of syrup *Buttered Pecan* which is the BOMB DIGGITY! If anyone wants to send me a bottle (cause i have to drive 2 hours to the nearest IHOP) I will be your slave for life. Also, I make only assumptions ON MY PART that an IHOP manager would do what mine does. Thus I have hopefully cleared my name (and TSR) of any legal wrongdoing... phew...I'm tired now.... ENJOY!
Chapter End Notes:
THE actual meeting. Sorry, had to get a few things straight before The Scoobies make a mess of everything - as usual.