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Author's Chapter Notes:
Is this another update within one week?! Why yes it is, thank you for noticing. ;) Enjoy!

Huge thanks goes to All4Spike for editing!
Chapter 33

They were going to Cleveland. She was. It was on the opposite coast, so it would probably be a four day drive if she counted pit stops and naps since she didn’t have the driving license to switch with Spike on the driving duty.

It was a long way.

It was perfect yet devastating in its uncertainty.

God, what was she doing?

“Are you all right?” Concern was heavy in Spike’s voice though his attention stayed on the road ahead.

She contemplated lying; it was on the tip of her tongue. “No.”

Stupid honesty.

The car slowed to a stop in front of her house. Be strong, Buffy. You’re doing this to protect Dad. He’ll be safer when you’re gone. You’ll figure it out as you go.

A heavy hand fell on top of her hand and squeezed. “Come on then, I’ll help you. You can tell me what kind of trouble you’ve got yourself into, yeah?”

“If I tell you, you might change your mind about helping me.”

“Guess you’ll have to take a chance.”

She got out of the car and for a moment, the world around her swayed.

“Whoa.” A strong grip on her shoulders steadied her. “Buffy…”

“I’m fine.” She stepped away. “Just feel a bit woozy. Haven’t had anything to eat and… too much excitement.”

He fingered the hem of her bloodied shirt. “I can see that.”

The house was empty, thank whatever deity looked after teenage runaways.

“So, are you going to tell me whose blood you have decorating your shirt?”

“It’s not mine.” She rummaged through her closet, tossing random items onto the bed.

“Yeah, I figured, what with you not being dead and all.” He prowled around her room, always on the edge of her vision, making her entire body aware of his every move. “Did you off someone? Is that why you’re making a run for it? Got cops on your tail?”

She carelessly tossed her most practical clothes—which was basically everything-- into a beaten up old suitcase. They would get all wrinkly anyway. “It was self defense.”

Spike halted and got in her direct line of vision. Too close for comfort, with those eyes that saw everything. “You’re not joking.”

“No. I’m a regular Ted Bundy now. Can you look under the bed and hand me the leather bag?”

He did as she asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Before I make a joke of handing you your kinky sex toys, could you tell me what happened exactly?”

“There aren’t any…” She blushed, relieved him of the bag and unzipped it for him to see the contents, which was a collection of miscellaneous weaponry.

“Kinkier than I thought.”

“Ha ha,” she said and zipped it closed again. She almost smiled then the memory of what had happened doused any spark of amusement she may have felt. “It was a vengeance demon. I… didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want to do it. I fell and I was holding the b-blade and she fell… and—”

He combed her hair away from her face, effectively stealing the rest of her train of thought. “Then you were right to do it. You survived and that’s what matters. Do you know why she tried to kill you?”

“You’re not running away?”

“Hardly.” His hand dropped. “But why would a vengeance demon—” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

Still, she answered as best as she could, considering she hadn’t made sense of it all yet. “I’m a Potential. Whatever the hell that means. I don’t even know what to believe anymore. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I’m not… different. Just all of a sudden I’m on the most wanted list and I don’t understand why and—”

“I do.” Spike sank on her bed, exhaled a burdened sigh. “I’d never have left if I’d known. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, it’s not like I knew! And I don’t need you to protect me or whatever macho crap you’re thinking of right now. I just want you to give me a ride somewhere far, far way from here. That’s all.”

Spike jumped to his feet and got in her face. He really should try to work on the whole ‘not getting into her personal space’ issue.

“If you think I’ll just drop you off and wave goodbye to you, you can bloody well forget it. I’m not leaving you to wander the streets alone!”

“You’re not the boss of me!” She poked him in the sternum. Hard. “And since when do you care?”

His shoulders slumped. “I do care. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“Spike, can we just… I need to finish my packing.”

She turned away but he caught her elbow and whirled her around. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Couldn’t he see how tired she was? “No, I do. I just don’t want to talk about it here. Or now. I need to get going Spike, please.”

He let go of her with a nod, stuck his restless hands into the pockets of his duster. “You’re right. This isn’t the time. Finish your packing. I’ll be outside waiting for you.”

She watched his retreating back then got back to the task at hand, changing out of her bloodied clothes and taking a quick five minute shower. If the suitcase on the bed was the only baggage she carried, life would be rainbows and kittens.

*******

Oh crap.

That was the only coherent thing Buffy could think of as she made it downstairs and heard the front door click.

Dad wasn’t supposed to be at the house! What was he doing home? It was too late to hide, too late to act innocent.

Double crap.

He stopped in the doorway, staring uncomprehendingly at the suitcase like it was an escaped mountain lion chewing on a decimated unicorn. Or something. A few seconds later Ellen dashed in after him. Her eyes locked with Buffy’s in mutual understanding of the ‘up shit creek without a paddle’ situation.

“What is this?” Hank finally broke the silence.

“A suitcase,” Buffy said.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Dad, I need to tell you something.” Everything depended on her ability to lie now. His life would be in danger if she failed. It wasn’t an option. “I’m leaving.”

“What?” he yelled, his cheeks turning crimson, fast. He shook off Ellen’s hand as she tried to placate him. “No, you’re not. What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I got this great opportunity. I didn’t tell you but I sent some of my work to some well-known galleries. One of them got back to me... one in Cleveland. They’d like to sign a contract with me. They really like my stuff, Dad. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that. I just need to go there, stay for a while.”

She couldn’t believe the lies coming out of her mouth. Couldn’t believe how convincing she sounded.

“Were you going to leave without saying anything?”

Ellen jumped in. “No, she told me earlier. She was going to come to the store to tell you. Which is why I tried to keep you from leaving there. You could have missed her, Hank!”

He glanced between the two of them then pointed at Buffy. “You can’t leave. It's too far and... You still haven’t finished high school. You’re just a kid, for God’s sake.”

“I’m eighteen, Dad. I’m as old as you were when you married Mom. And as for high school, it’s not like I’ve got straight A’s. I can get work that I love. I can make my dreams come true if I go. If I fail, I can always repeat this year.”

Buffy could see him falter. “But… how are you going to get there? What about a place to stay? I can give you the bit of money I’ve saved up but it’s not much…”

“I have some savings too. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything figured out. And…” This would be the hard part. “Spike will take me. He’s going in that direction. He has a friend there where I could stay until I get money from my paintings.”

Three. Two. On—

“Absolutely not! He’s going to… corrupt you!”

Ellen looped her arm around his waist and whispered something Buffy couldn’t hear then added more loudly, “She’s old enough to make her own decisions. You should at least let her try. And if she gets a broken heart in the process, well, isn’t that part of growing up?”

“She’s not growing up,” Hank denied, far less fervently now. He sounded… sad. “She’s my kid.”

Buffy ran up to him and hugged him with enough force to make him wheeze a laugh. “I always will be. And between the two of us, there will be no corrupting, I promise. We’re just friends.”

He leaned away and tweaked her nose. “You better not lie to me.”

She smiled, weakly. “Please, Dad? I need you to be okay with this.”

“Knowing how stubborn you are, you’d leave even if I said no.” He sighed and pulled her into his arms again, sniffling against her shoulder, which triggered her own tears. “Okay, go. I trust you to be responsible.”

She hugged him as though she’d never see him again, refusing to think that it actually might be true. “I love you.”

He wiped her tears and smiled. “Love you too, pumpkin.”

She hugged Ellen next, whispered ‘thank you’ into her ear and nodded when Ellen answered with ‘take good care of yourself’. Hank helped her get the suitcase loaded into the car with Spike finishing his smoke as he leaned against its side. Fortunately, he kept silent and didn’t ask questions that would betray her lies. He exchanged a few words with her father, but no one got punched in the face, so it went better than she’d suspected it would.

As the leather bench seat creaked when she slid in, she accepted a paper handkerchief Spike held out to her. She blew her nose, feeling pathetic.

“It’s stupid. I’ve never thought I’d miss this place, but I already do.” She waved at her father and Ellen until they disappeared from her view as Spike turned a corner. She let her hand fall into her lap.

“It’s not stupid. And it’s not the place you’re missing. It’s the people.”

“You’re right.” She trained her gaze on the asphalt stretching in front of them. “I lied to him, you know.”

Spike gave her a sidelong glance, silent and listening.

“I told him I got offered a job from a gallery. That they liked my art.” She snorted an empty laugh. “What if I never see him again? What if the last words I said to his face were lies?”

“Hey now.” His eyes turned soft. “You’ll see him again. I won’t let anything happen to you. Told you I wouldn’t let go of you, didn’t I?”

She wanted to protest, tell him she could fight her own battles, but for the moment she let it rest. Let herself feel safe.

“Thank you for coming back.”

“Sure.” The corner of his mouth hinted at a smile. “And who knows? Maybe you weren’t lying at all. A friend of mine is a gallery owner. I have a feeling the two of you will hit it off.”

“Really?”

“I’d bet my car on it, and I love this car.”

She laughed and clutched the balled up handkerchief in her hands. “It’s a pretty old car though.”

“Hey!” He caressed the dashboard. “Don’t listen to the daft blonde, love. You’re not old. You’re a classic.”

“And you’re a weirdo.”

Spike grinned. “You bet your pert arse I am. And no fiddling with the radio,” he said as she stretched out her hand to do just that.

“Anything else I should know?” she asked and sat back.

“If you stain anything inside the car, I’ll have you cleaning it up wearing only tiny bikini.”

Buffy arched her eyebrow. “Why would I need bikini if I’m cleaning the inside?”

Spike shrugged. “It’s a rule. And why I think they’re meant to be broken, the same doesn’t apply to the rules I made up.”

“Ah, I see.” She bit her lip to hide the smile. It occurred to her how Spike could always turn her mood upside down and distract her from being upset. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

He cranked up the volume on the radio and started bellowing along to the Sex Pistols’ Vacant.

Oh boy. Maybe she’d been too hasty.

TBC



Chapter End Notes:
Coming up next: Buffy/Spike road trip!



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