[a/n]---just so ya know, i'm watching 'showtime' and i'm currently sobbing my eyes out. that has nothing to do with this story, but w/e.
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His fingers threaded through his hair, disarranging the bleached strands. He looked out the window of his hotel room, and took in the beautiful scenery. He had managed to find a decent hotel by the beach, one that would take him in.
Three weeks had passed since Spike had had the run-in with the two women at the restaurant. He had tried desperately to remember what the blonde looked like, but found that the harder he tried to picture her, the more she faded away. Now, all he had was the memory of bright green eyes, round and bright.
He had spent most of his time walking around this one Starbucks town, trying to find somewhere that would let him stay there for more than a few days. Where ever he went, people would serve him with reluctance and distaste, or refused to serve him at all. Truth be told, the isolation and lack of craze over him was…rather welcomed.
But the lack of remembrance over that blonde? That was slowly driving him insane.
He sighed, standing up and grabbing his duster. He needed to get out of this room. He grabbed his keys to the rental car and walked out the door, heading to Sunnydale Mall.
---
Buffy tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing in the rearview mirror. Her son was bobbing his head along to the music blasting from her car speakers. Her son had an unbelievable obsession with the cartoon ‘Spongebob Squarepants’, and she had bought him the soundtrack, which he listened to constantly.
“William,” she said, catching her baby’s attention. “Sweetie, what AREN’T we going to do at the mall this time?”
“Play wif shoos.”
“Good. We don’t want a stack of high heels falling on you today, now do we?”
“No.”
“Good,” she said, turning the steering wheel and pulling into a space. She unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed out of her car. She opened up the side door and reached in, pulled the seat belt out of the buckle and lifted her son out of the car seat. She balanced him on her hip as she closed the door, opened the trunk and got out the stroller. Setting him down on the trunk, she opened the carriage and placed his favorite blanket in it. Then, she picked up her son, placed him in the stroller and walked inside the mall.
---
Spike pulled the rental car into the space and cut off the engine. He sat in front of the wheel for a few minutes before climbing out. His eye caught on the license plate on a dark blue Honda CR-V which read ‘Slayer’. He scoffed, and headed inside.
Passing through the double doors, he was greeted with the buzz of the mall and the unnaturally cold air that resulted from the high air conditioning levels.
He glanced around the overly crowded place and muttered, “Where to start.”
---
“Where to start,” Buffy sighed to Faith. The two had been friends since ‘The Incident’ after a guy had accused Buffy of being a slut and selling her body to Spike Giles. Faith, who had been on the receiving end of this comment and knew how much it hurt, had promptly become pissed off. She had decked the obnoxious teen and earned Buffy’s tentative friendship which grew into them becoming best friends.
Faith had been on a trip to San Juan for the past four weeks; just getting home the day before. She had gone to the mall where she had run into Buffy, who was now filling her in on what had happened.
“Well, Willow and I are sitting in Fresche, right? Well, I’m teasing her about her and Oz and she gets really pale and goes, “Oh, my god”. So I turn around and who do I see?”
“I dunno, B. That’s why YOU are telling ME.”
“Quiet. Anyway, I turn around and there, standing in all his glory, is HIM.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “Damn, B! I’m gone for four weeks and Blue blows back into town?” She whistled. “Maybe I should go on va-kay more often.”
“Faith, be serious. The father of my baby is here!”
The brunette looked around the food court. “Where?”
“No, not ‘here’ here. Just...in California. Sunnydale, maybe. I don’t know.” She shruged. “He could have left the coun...Faith, what are you looking at?”
“Uh, B? I don’t think he left the country.”
“Why not?”
“Because he kind of just walked into the food court.”
---
Spike glanced around the crowded place with mild amusement. People were gathered everywhere; lines meshed into each other, babies cries mixed together, and he was almost going deaf from the dull roar of the room.
Sighing, he decided that he’d come back when the whole of Sunnyhell WASN’T here, and walked right by a blonde and a brunette with a stroller, not paying them one more glance.
---
Buffy heard the light rustling of leather by her right ear and refused to turn. Faith twisted in her seat and watched the movie star as he crossed to the escalators on the other side of the room.
When his bleached head disappeared from sight, she turned around. “B, he’s gone. You can move now.”
Buffy opened her eyes and glanced around then sighed. “Too close...”
She jumped slightly when a hand clamped down on her shoulder, and a familiar British voice said, “Hello, Buffy.”
---
Spike sat on the edge of the fountain, playing with a pen that he had found in his pocket. He distractedly clicked the pen, looking down at the flor with disinterest.
He stopped his noisemaking, sighed, and put the pen next to him on the cool stone wall. He ran his hands over his face and then through his hair and dropped his right hand so that he could rub the back of his neck with his left. Dropping that hand, too, he sighed, impatiently tapping his foot. He glanced down at the offending limb and rolled his eyes before muttering “Sod it,” and walking out of the building.
---
Buffy let a grin steal over her features and turned in her seat. “Well if it isn’t Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.” She stood up and grabbed him into a hug. “How are you?”
The scraggly looking Brit hugged her and said, “Never better. And,” he added, pulling away from her. “how’s my favorite little boy?”
“Wezey!” cried the child, holding his arms up. “Up! Up!”
He laughed and swung the boy out of the stroller and into his arms. Buffy watched, amused, as Wes played with her son. “How’s Winniefred?”
The man rolled his eyes, bouncing William uup and down on his hip. “She’s fine, Buffy. And she wishes you would call her Fred, you’ve known her for two years.”
“Um, B?” Faith interrupted. “Who’s this?”
“Faith, you’ve never met Wesley?”
“No.”
“Wow...might have something to do with the boarding school...”
Wesley shrugged. “Maybe.”
“B?”
“Right, sorry. Faith, this is Wesley. Wesley, Faith. Wes is my step-brother, and ‘Fred’ is his sisters.” She leaned forward and whispered in Faith’s ear, “And he’s engaged. Don’t. Even. Think. About it. So,” she said, pulling back. “Who wants to go to Build-A-Bear?”
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[a/n]--i am sick + hopped up on meds. WHEEEEEEEEEE!
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