Spike had wanted to skip out on the check being that neither of his girls had eaten a bite of their food, but Buffy insisted they pay. When they stepped out of the restaurant, snow was beginning to swirl down in thick, wet flakes like dandelion fluff. Buffy was huddled against him while Tara strode ahead to the Citroen. Using her sleeve, Tara brushed the back windshield clean with slow sweeps. Tara took so much care, it almost looked like she was dabbing at a child's face.
Buffy took her keys out of the pocket of her bright, blue jacket. They proved too clever for her fingers, falling, sparkling to the ground. Spike bent and retrieved them, then unlocked the door for Buffy.
“Thank you,” she said. Buffy looked up at him with her bright, sorrowful eyes.
Spike had to kiss her then. Buffy responded with desperate fervor. Neither noticed that Tara was waiting by the trunk. Buffy's mouth was so hot against the frigid night that Spike nearly forgot where they were.
“Hey, hey guys, I have s,s,something to s,s,show you, give
me the keys, Billy,” Tara said.
They broke the kiss and Buffy hid her face in Spike's cashmere coat. Spike tossed the keys to Tara. His sister caught them and unlocked the back door. Tara leaned across the seat and unlocked their door. Spike and Buffy got in beside her to see what she was doing.
“I’m really s,s,sorry about t,t,this, Buffy,” Tara said.
Tara took a knife out of her pocket and Buffy froze. Before either she or Spike could speak, Tara was stabbing a hole in the back of the passenger side seat. They watched, mystified, as Tara sawed open the gray vinyl and then stuck her hand inside the slit. Tara pulled out a slim, black leather-bound volume wrapped in clear plastic. Recognition lit Buffy's face.
“Giles t,t,told me where t,t,to find it,” Tara said.
“His last diary,” Buffy said.
“He was afraid t,t,the council would seize his files,” Tara said.
“They did, but they never found the one he was keeping right before he died,” Buffy said.
“Giles said t,t,this book would have answers for you,” Tara said.
Tara handed the tome to Buffy; she clutched it to her chest. Spike looked from the shivering girl in his arms to his sister.
“Can you drive this thing, love?” Spike asked, quietly.
Tara’s smile was touched with pride.
“Of course, but where are we going?”
“Away,” Buffy said, “far away.”
Tara got out of the car and ran around to the driver’s seat. Buffy huddled against Spike, holding the diary like it was the last bottle of water on earth. As Tara turned on the Citroen, the tape player started blaring “Life’s a Gas.” When the song ended, it didn't repeat on its persistent loop. Instead the opening guitar riff of “Norwegian Wood,” filled the Citroen. Tara punched stop on the player and the song cut off, then she popped the tape out. Tara looked at the sticker labeling the plastic case.
“Giles’ groovy t,t,times mix,” Tara read aloud.
Despite her tears, Buffy let out a laugh.
**
It was about five in the morning and Tara had been driving all night. Buffy was asleep against Spike's chest, a warm knot against his body. The diary was wedged in between her hip and the seat, her lax hand against the cover. Spike rested his chin against her head.
“I can smell the dawn coming,” Spike said.
Tara glanced at him in the rear view mirror. Spike watched her eyes get wide as she noticed his lack of reflection.
“We'll s,s,stop in Niagara Falls, there's got to be a hotel on the American s,s,side,” Tara said. She sat up a little straighter in the seat and turned the radio down a touch.
“Billy, how are you holding up?” she asked.
“Better now that I'm not alone,” he said quietly, trying not to wake Buffy.
Spike saw her smile flash in the oval mirror.
“And you?” he asked.
She was silent. Tara inhaled and then let out the breath in a sigh.
“I've been noticing s,s,some weird changes. Like my s,s,skin burns if I'm outside without s,s,sunblock for more than five minutes. I'm faster, too, and I t,t,think my s,s,sense of s,s,smell is getting more acute,” Tara said.
Spike suppressed a shudder.
“What about the dark stuff, love?”
“Yeah. I get angrier, at nothing and it, it t,t,takes more t,t,to calm me down. But I've been better at controlling my access t,t,to your moods. Being with you helps,” Tara said.
“I'm so sorry, love,” Spike said.
“I wouldn't change it, Billy. I s,s,still have my brother. Why don't you get a little rest,” Tara said.
Spike closed his eyes and was surprised when he actually fell asleep. He woke up as Tara was pulling up to a dive motel called “The Bit-O-Paris.” The sign had a neon Eiffel Tower gyrating on it and the flat, horseshoe of rooms surrounding the parking lot were a lurid shade of pink.
“Which bit of Paris is this, the part with open sewers, love?” Spike asked.
“Well, you always s,s,said you wanted to go abroad, besides, it's t,t,the only one with a vacancy,” Tara said.
Tara went to the office to check them in while Spike waited with Buffy. He was loathe to wake her, so he just listened to the music of her even breath. His cravings had become easier to handle when he was brought out of isolation, but Spike still worried he would hurt the women in his company. The thirst was a constant need, hovering on the periphery of his mind, even in that moment of stillness. He turned away from Buffy's soft, lax neck to stare out the window.
Tara came back to the car and opened the trunk, pulling out the bag she'd packed along with the one Spike had left at her dorm room, back when he was still alive. Spike shifted Buffy out of the car carefully and carried her into the snowy night, following his sister to their room.
Dank. The room was dank, it smelled of mold and sleaze. There was only one, king-sized bed covered in a yellow bedspread.
“Before you complain, t,t,this was all t,t,they had,” Tara said.
“It's fine, love. I don't think you're going to put the moves on my girl,” Spike said. Spike set Buffy on the bed and tugged off her knee-length, black boots. He eased Buffy out of her down coat as Tara unpacked a pair of purple pajamas from her sausage-shaped, black duffel bag and claimed the bathroom. Spike changed out of Giles' clothes and into a pair of workout shorts.
By the time Tara got out of the bathroom, her silver hair in a ropey braid, he was curled under the covers with Buffy, totally comfortable despite the gritty sheets. It was just nice to be in a bed again with Buffy, no less. Tara got in on his other side and put her arm around his waist. Spike succumbed to the warmth around him, and fell asleep.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry this chapter's so short!
Chapter End Notes:
The Bit-O-Paris is a real place in Niagara Falls, or at least it was a few years ago. "Norwegian Wood" is a song by the Beatles.