The Lark

by JodithGrace

 

Genre: Drama

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. They belong to Joss Whedon and UPN. I merely toy with them for my own amusement.

Summary:   POST post-The Gift. It is a short fic that takes place one week after Buffy's ressurection by what ever means the writers dream up.

 

With a flourish, the stake came down and the vampire exploded into dust. From behind a white marble crypt, Spike gave a sigh of relief. Good… she was back in form. His back up might not be necessary tonight after all. He looked at the small blonde girl as she bent to gather her weapons, which had become scattered in the brief battle. She looked bloody terrific, Spike thought. All those shadows under her eyes were gone, she had put on a few much-needed pounds and her golden hair glowed in the moonlight.

 

Spike himself felt better than he had in months, almost back to his pre-Glory strength. Nothing like a week of actually eating and sleeping well to bring a vampire back to life, so to speak. And he had been brought back to life, just as surely as the slayer had. These last few months, he had more closely resembled a zombie than a vampire. But that was over now. Buffy was back.

Spike was surprised to see that once again she was patrolling alone. The first few days, her Scooby friends had been all over her, not leaving her alone for a minute. He had hardly gotten a chance to greet her, even considering that he had played no small part in her resurrection. She had been grateful, of course, as were the rest of the Scoobies, but as her ‘family' they wanted her to themselves, and he… wasn't a part of that. He had kept in touch with the gang these last three months, especially Dawn, since he had promised Buffy to look after her. They were friendly and kind to him, even Xander, and didn't seem to blame him for failing to stop Doc and prevent the disaster that had taken Buffy from them. But he would never be one of them, no matter how many games of pool he beat Xander at, or how many spells he assisted the Wiccans with. The Scoobies shared something that he had never had: Buffy's love. Though he had managed to earn a measure of respect from her at the end, she had never loved him.

 

But tonight, as last night, Buffy was alone. And Spike had appointed himself as her backup, following her, discretely, to make sure that she didn't get in over her head. He suspected that she knew he was there, but as long as he didn't interfere, she wouldn't send him away. So far, so good. She was handling things like the old Buffy.

Suddenly, as Buffy adjusted the bag on her shoulder, three vampires appeared out of the shadows. They were of the large, mean and ugly breed. Buffy attacked deftly, but at three to one, even the Slayer could use some help. Spike swung into action, grabbing the vampire at Buffy's back. Deftly she tossed him a stake and he rammed it through the brute's heart, dusting him. Buffy had the other two backed against the marble crypt. With a stake in each hand, she dusted them simultaneously.

"Bravo," applauded Spike. "Well done."

Buffy smiled happily, "Haven't done a double header like that in... ages."

Spike raised his palm in the air and Buffy slapped it. The small spontaneous gesture struck Spike like a bolt of lightening. They had just fought together like companions. He was suddenly overcome with emotion and couldn't speak.

"Are you all right, Spike?" Buffy looked at him curiously.

"I-I'm fine," he managed to croak. "I'm just bloody glad to see you back… uh, in your old form that is."

"I'm glad to be back, Spike. Thanks to you… and Willow. And the whole gang, actually."

"No problem, Slayer. Glad to oblige."

"I also wanted to thank you for looking after Dawn. She's told me how much your friendship meant to her while I was… gone."

"I promised you I'd look after her. Just tell ‘er not to be a stranger, now that you're back."

"This past week has been kind of crazy. You can imagine. I'm sure that once things get back to normal, she'll be back to bugging you again."

"Well, she helped me a lot too."

"Yeah, Will told me what kind of shape you were in for that first month or so, after…"

Spike looked down, embarrassed. He had hoped that Buffy wouldn't have heard about his bloody awful behavior that first hideous month, but that was too much to hope for.

"I guess Xander and Will told you plenty."

"Spike. Nobody said anything bad about you. It-it was a difficult time for everybody, I guess. And you did pull yourself together and take care of Dawn, like you promised."

Spike looked around. The moonlight frosted the gravestones, and all was quiet except for the cheerful chirrup of the crickets.

"Looks like the vamps have closed up shop for the evenin'. ‘S getting' late. Walk you home?"

"You don't have to do that Spike. I'm not made of glass, you know," said Buffy firmly. But Spike continued to walk with her and she didn't say anything else to discourage him. They walked together through the graveyard towards Buffy's house.

After a few moments of silence, Spike ventured, "So how come you're all alone tonight, Slayer? And last night too?"

"Well, You know how it is. Everybody's all glad to have me back and all, but... well, they have lives of their own too. Xander and Anya are busy planning the wedding of the century."

"Tell me about it. Handyman has been boring me to tears with all the bloody details."

"It's funny; at first I thought it was all Anya, but Xander is equally obsessed. It's all they can talk about. And Willow and Tara are busy doing that kind of together stuff that people do who are… together."

Spike nodded, understanding her perfectly. He asked. "When does Giles get back from England?"

"Next week. He hated to go, but he has to straighten this whole mess out with the Council."

"They never did call another slayer, did they?"

"No, thank goodness. Or we'd be multiplying like rabbits."

"Shhhh," Spike whispered conspiratorially. "Don't let Anya hear you."

Buffy laughed, but then sobered suddenly. "Even Dawn has a boyfriend now. Can you believe it?"

"Well, don't worry about that, Buffy. That Kevin's a pretty good bloke. Giles and me had a talk with him. Put the fear of God in ‘im. So don't worry about him actin' up around little sis."

"Well, it's not that I'm worried, so much. It's just that, well… you turn your back on somebody for three lousy months… and they go and grow up on you! It's not fair."

"You sound kind of… lonely."

"I guess I am," Buffy said thoughtfully. "Everybody seems to have somebody, you know? Except me."

"Well," Spike said softly, "you've always got me."

"Oh lucky me!" Buffy shot back sarcastically.

Spike stopped short, stung by her tone. Bloody hell. Some things never changed! You stick your neck out and she bloody well chops your sodding head off! Buffy continued on a few steps, until she realized that Spike was no longer beside her. She did an instant replay in her mind of her last remark. She hurried back to him.

"Spike! I am so sorry. That was just an old habit, putting you down like that. An old bad habit. I didn't mean it. Really. I am lucky to have you around."

He looked at her, small and golden in the moonlight. Why did her every remark get to him? Why did he love her so much? He smiled at her, not wanting her to know the effect she had on him.

"Friends?" she asked extending her small hand.

"Friends." He said, taking it briefly, and then turning abruptly and continuing their walk. They walked in silence. By unspoken agreement, they didn't seem to be taking the direct way to the Summer's home, but the long way around. Soon, they came to a clearing. The moon was setting, and they stood and watched it together quietly.

Eventually, Buffy broke the silence.

"Oh Spike… isn't it lovely? Do you know how many times I have been out here, and I have never once just stood and watched the moon set. Since I came back, I've been noticing things like that. How beautiful this night is. How sweet the air smells. There's nothing like coming back from the dead to make you realize…" She broke off. "I'm sorry, Spike. I guess you don't quite know what I mean."

"Actually I sort of do, love. I've been feeling rather reborn myself this past week."

Buffy didn't reply. She just started walking again, Spike with her. Eventually they came to Buffy's street, and what Spike considered to be his tree, the large maple outside of Buffy's house. How many times had he stood here, watching her window? He was never able to see inside, but in that golden square of light he imagined her living her life. And for the last three months he had stood watching the square of blackness, mourning her. Now once more there would be light and life in that window.

As she approached the tree, Buffy stopped abruptly, so suddenly that Spike who was behind her, almost bumped into her. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself. He froze, waiting for her to object, to throw his hands off, but she just stood there looking at her house, entranced.

"Look Spike. Home sweet home. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?"

"I guess it must seem like that to you," Spike answered close to her ear.

She was so close to him, Spike was glad he had no need to breathe, because he wouldn't have been able to. He had missed her so much, had been in such despair for so long. He couldn't believe he was actually standing here with her like this. Slowly, cautiously he slid his hands down her arms. She still didn't object, and in fact backed up, closer to him. His face now was right against her hair. Emboldened by this contact, he slid his arms around her and held her in an embrace. The scent of her hair was intoxicating, but he didn't say anything nor do anything more. Spike felt as though he were in a magic spell which one wrong word or move would break forever.

A loud liquid note of bird song came from the branch above their heads startling them both. The spell broken, Buffy moved away from Spike and looked up, asking, "What was that?"

Spike sighed, disappointed, and quoted, "It is a lark which sings so out of tune."

Buffy turned to look at him. "That sounds like Shakespeare. Is it?"

He nodded. "Romeo and Juliet."

"Really? Romeo and Juliet talked about birds? I don't remember that part."

"Well." Spike leaned against the tree as he spoke, "Romeo and Juliet had been secretly married by Friar Lawrence, remember? They spent the night together at her place… doing things that honeymooners do, I suppose. Towards the end of the night, they are lying in each other's arms, and they hear a bird sing, like we just did. Well, Romeo has to leave before dawn, or he will be put to death, but Juliet doesn't want him to go. She claims that the bird is a nightingale, but Romeo knows that it is a lark, which sings in the morning, meaning that he has to leave. He doesn't want to leave Juliet, and he allows himself to be convinced for a moment that it is a nightingale. But Juliet is afraid for him and admits that it is a lark, and he has to go."

Buffy swallowed. "I remember that scene. It was so sad. Leonardo was so sweet…"

"DiCaprio? Pu-leese. That thing wasn't Shakespeare. It was a nothing but a bloody music video!"

"Well, I also liked the original."

"The original? Buffy, love, even I'm not old enough to have seen that."

 

Buffy giggled. "Silly. I meant the original movie. You, know the one by Franco whathisname?"

Spike shook his head, "That was hardly the… no… actually I liked the Zefferelli version also. It was very beautiful. But Buffy, haven't you ever seen Shakespeare live? Performed by real actors?"

"Are you saying that Leonardo DiCaprio isn't a real actor?"

Spike shrugged. "Well, he did drown pretty well in Titanic. All blue and frosty like that. But Shakespeare is a whole different deal. Y'know, There's a Shakespeare festival starting next week up in Mendocino. Shakespeare under the stars. I've seen it. It isn't half-bad. You'd really like it, Buffy. Maybe we could go one night."

"Are you asking me out, Spike?"

Was he? "Uh… I dunno. Would that be a mistake?"

"It's okay, Spike, I won't bite your head off."

"Well, in that case, I guess I am."

She smiled. "Well, in that case, yes."

Spike took Buffy's hands in his. Several other birds had now joined the one in the tree above them, in glorious song. Buffy looked up at Spike.

"Spike… I don't know if that's a lark or not, but I do know that dawn is coming, and you can't be here."

"I know. But somehow I don't feel like leaving."

"So, I guess that means I'll have to take you to see that play in a Dustbuster."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess I'd better go."

"I'll see you tonight? We're meeting at Xander's house to discuss bridesmaids and ushers. I think Xander's planning to ask you to ush, so beware. Anyway, he wants you to come."

"Would I get to wear a ruffled shirt?"

"I'm sure it will be totally tasteless."

"Good." He leaned down and kissed Buffy gently on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Juliet."

And he was gone, his black duster flapping behind him. Buffy stood alone by the tree and watched the sun come up, before going into her house.

 

The End

 

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