He could hear the screaming on the line from the other end of the office and it utterly baffled him. Was it a scream of rage? Happiness?
Or were they just playing video games? Lord knew with Andrew living with them, it was a distinct possibility.
Angel wouldn’t let him near Wesley while they were on the phone, claiming that if Buffy became upset with the news for any reason -- at all -- she would want the comfort of her first love’s voice at her beck and call.
Bollocks to that, Spike thought angrily. It had taken six weeks of Spike’s constant bitching to irritate the hell out of the many evil bastards that roamed the halls of Evil, Inc., up to and including the members of Angel’s special team themselves before they’d finally given in and told him they would call the Slayer just to shut him up. It had been two weeks since the prezzie in the mail had made him a real boy again and they were only just now calling. For those entire two weeks since Spike had become corporeal again, Angel had kept insisting that knowing would only upset Buffy just that much more and refused to be a part of it. At which point, Wesley had finally gotten fed up, ignored everything that the darker vampire had said and made the call anyway. Then Angel had been constantly up Wes’s ass, trying to get him to hand over the phone.
At least the fact that Buffy didn’t seem to want to talk to Angel kept his nerves from going completely wonky.
"Yes. Yes, Buffy. I’m sure everyone will be watching and waiting," Wesley replied, the hint of a smile in his voice. "Yes, I will make certain of it. Give my best to everyone. Good-bye, dear."
At those last words, Angel finally made a last-ditch effort to snatch the phone, grabbing it from Wesley and putting it up to his ear – only to hear the dial tone. He turned his head to glare at the former Watcher, and Spike managed to hide a snort of laughter when Wesley simply shrugged innocently.
Tossing the phone on to one of his nice plush easy chairs, Angel drew a deep, unnecessary breath, and asked, "So?"
Wesley had been walking toward the other end of the office, where Spike was huddled in one chair and Fred was perched next to him on the arm. Turning back slightly, he raised his eyebrows. "So… what?"
It was rather funny watching the shade of puce slowly appearing on Angel’s Neanderthal-like face. "So, is she coming to Los Angeles?"
Spike’s ears perked, and he glanced at Wesley, hoping not to convey just how eager he was for the answer.
Wesley sighed, apparently deciding that answering Angel’s ignorant questions would just be a relief to an already overloaded mind. "No. She’s not."
Wesley watched as Spike’s shoulders slumped. Angel scowled and stormed out of the office, muttering something about pulling strings and the corporate jet. The former Watcher wasn’t sure what, exactly, was niggling at the back of his mind, but he knew damn well that it was saying not to tell Angel anything – the darker vampire still thought that Buffy was in Italy, after all.
The blond vampire began to stand up to follow when Wesley grabbed his arm, a tiny crooked smile on his unshaven face. "She’s going to Sunnydale," the man murmured in a low voice.
The word ‘hope’ suddenly became that much more powerful.
Spike smiled.
He felt like a colossal git, standing next to the former mouth of hell in a torrential downpour, waiting for a tiny blonde and a coltish-looking brunette that he hadn’t seen for four months. He’d managed to hijack the Grand Poof’s favorite car (what a hot little piece the Viper was, too. And all Peaches had to do to get it was sign over his soul. Again.) All the way to the Sunnydale crater, though, his mind had been plagued with questions. Wesley really had no reason to be friendly with Spike, nor had he any reason to lie to Angel. Had Wesley lied to Spike? Would his girls really come? What if the sight of their old hometown was too painful for them? Would they really want to see him?
Had she missed him at all?
God, he hoped so. This was about the eighteenth time he’d laid his unbeating heart out on the line for her, and she’d damn well better take it and keep it safe for once!
He hunkered down under his coat, clutching it tightly over his head and around his neck, trying to avoid the cold little prick of the falling rain. Sod it all, why hadn’t he brought an umbrella? Who the hell cared if it was poncy anymore -- at least then he wouldn’t be wet.
Wesley hadn’t told him what time his girls would be there. What if they had arrived at LAX, saw the weather report, and thought it was a better idea to stay at their hotel rather than traipse around in the rain? It had already been an hour since he’d gotten to the crater, after all...
Maybe they weren’t coming?
He snorted and shrugged his shoulders haughtily. Who was he kidding? Of course they would come! Dawn -- why, Dawn would have thrown a temper tantrum if Buffy had opted out of coming. His Niblet loved him, he knew. Wasn’t so sure about Big Sis. But Dawn definitely would have come. Dawn had probably gotten her license about now, or her temps at the very least. He’d taught his girl well – she might have just hijacked a car from the closest Hertz and driven out to meet him herself.
Buffy would never let Dawn go anywhere alone, especially not to the tombstone of the town that had been such a bane to her. The Slayer would be along for the ride whether she wanted to be or not.
Unless Angel had found out that Wesley had lied, and had met her at the airport.
Buffy could very well be in the Poof’s arms right now.
The haughtiness dissolved from his face and he slumped, his insecurities taking over his mind, the voices from within telling him that he was still beneath her, still no good for her; that she would never love anything like him let alone miss him.
He was still second best – he always would be. Angel had always had everything he’d ever wanted first, and no matter how much Spike changed, he still wasn’t going to be sodding good enough, was he?
He snarled furiously and kicked a rather large stone into the heart of the crater, its noise dulled by the wet thunk it made upon impacting with the small pool of water.
He’d been set up.
They weren’t coming.
He could feel his eyes begin to tear up and he fought the stinging sensation furiously. Well he sure as hell was not going to go looking for the bitch, was he? Her and her brat kid sis – Dawn had made it perfectly clear, after all, how she felt about him after what he’d done to Buffy. She’d never wanted to speak to him again, had ignored him when Buffy had done the pity dance and brought him home with her. Dawn had never looked at him, never talked to him, and had never, ever forgiven him. The young girl who had been his only champion, his only friend, the only one who had ever had his back had turned hers on him.
If Dawn didn’t care about him anymore, then why the fuck should he care about her? He supposed the sibling vibe he’d felt between them had all just been one-sided in the first place, what with her sister’s stupid-ass friends telling the girl left and right what a bad influence he was and that she should hate him, not encourage him.
And Buffy! Oh, she’d played quite a role that last year, being all kind and understanding and supportive. Made the big jump, acting like she was taking his side against her Watcher’s – the bitch must have been really glad to see him go up in flames. And saying that she loved him when she knew he was going to die? Pour the salt on a little more – it didn’t sting enough.
He knew he wasn’t going to head back to Los Angeles. L.A. was the ponce’s town; there was no way in hell Spike was ever going to go back – not unless Angel suddenly met with a very dusty end, anyway, and oh what a happy fantasy that was. He knew the prick would continue making his life miserable by telling him how glad Buffy was without him in her life, how she was moving on, how she – Was that a light he saw?
He blinked the rain—or maybe it was his tears, he wasn’t sure by this point anymore—out of his eyes and looked again.
Two lights.
Two lights that looked like – well, they were either the high beams from a car that may or may not have had a drunk driver behind the wheel, or a fluorescent, drunken demon had managed to stumble his way over to the former Hellmouth. Either way, alcohol had to be involved in this scenario.
The loud screech of tires churning to a stop answered him irrevocably, and he stood, dumbfounded.
Was it...
"You psycho! What part of ‘slow down, hit the brakes’ did you NOT understand?!"
It was.
The voice squealing from inside the vehicle began to ring bells around his head, and he almost fell to the ground as the realization hit him.
They’d come for him.
His girls were here for him!
"I heard your whinging; I just chose to ignore it. I’m still a better driver than you, even if it is storming!"
"We’ve been in Europe too long. It’s whining, not whinging, you cultural snob. You’re an American, talk like it!"
"Oh, shut up, Buffy, just because – get out of the car."
"Huh?"
"Buffy, get out of the car, now." There was the sound of a door slamming shut, and the squishing sound of feet stepping in mud before the tall, coltish figure he’d anticipated came into clear view. She squinted through the brightness of the headlights, then moved a little closer, seeming to shake just that much more when she saw the glistening streak of wet leather huddled against the car.
She’d changed. His beautiful little Dawn was every bit the beauty he’d known she was going to be, and was just as confident. Her hair had been cut to her shoulders, she was just a tad bit taller, and he could see the definition of womanhood in her face and movements, but underneath, she was the same adorable, understanding child with the wisdom of the ages on her small, scrawny shoulders that he’d loved as his own.
And then her sister appeared.
Buffy was still as short as ever, the locks of her hair that he could see still as blonde as the last time he’d been with her. There was fullness to her face that hadn’t been there before, and she carried herself differently, proudly – not just as the general of an army, but also as a woman who knew what she wanted.
And she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.
Dawn glanced at her sister questioningly. Buffy didn’t look at the younger girl, but moved forward slowly, until there was only a foot separating her from him.
Buffy’s shaking hand reached out to touch the rain-soaked leather, the hood she’d worn over her head quickly becoming drenched from the downpour. He lifted his head up, giving her a clear view, thanks to the illumination of the headlights, and she gave a loud gasp, clasping her hand over her mouth. A soft whimper escaped her throat and she looked down, sniffling.
"Sweetheart?" Spike murmured, leaning in and cupping her chin in his hand, forcing her head up so he could look at her face. At the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, every ounce of frustration and hurt and hatred faded to the back of his mind, and he threw all of his guilty thoughts away. His girls hadn’t forgotten him. Just by the look on Buffy’s face alone, if anything, the Summers sisters had remembered him too well. They had still been in mourning for him when Wesley’s call had come. He gave a quick glance over Buffy’s shoulder to Dawn, and saw that her face was wet as well – though that could just have been because of the rain.
"It’s you," the Slayer whispered, looking up at him. "It really is you, isn’t it?"
He supposed it was crass of him to answer the way he did, but he knew if anything, it would confirm Buffy’s belief that he really was there in front of her. He arched his hips gently against her and indicated his head downward. "Wanna check?"
Without hesitation, Buffy’s mouth gaped open and she smacked his shoulder. "Spike! You big pig -- Oh!" she yelped, her hands going to her mouth again. She stared at him for a moment with wide eyes.
He gave her a quirky half-smile, nodding in response to her unasked question.
She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. "Spike! Oh my god, Spike!" she sobbed into his neck, and he laughed for what felt like the first time in years, lifting her in his arms and hugging her back joyfully.
Pulling back, he gently cupped her face, smiling tenderly at her. Shaking his head disbelievingly, he heaved a loud sigh of contentment. "Never thought I'd see you again. Missed you so much, gorgeous. Missed you so, so much," he murmured, enveloping her again, his lips finding hers in a desperate attempt to affirm that she really was in front of him. She met his mouth eagerly, twining her arms around his biceps and nuzzling her nose against his as a large smile formed against their lips.
Pulling away from him to breathe, she hugged him once again, burying her face in his chest. Her tears still fell but they were now accompanied by the smile that wouldn't leave her face. "Spike, I missed you, too... I thought you were really gone, and God, how dumb am I? I lived in Sunnydale for seven years; you would think that mystical resurrections would be nothing new to me by now!"
Spike chuckled. Barely five minutes in his presence, and Buffy was already chastising herself. He was certainly happy that it was so much different than before. In the past when she'd chastised herself, it had been because of how she saw their relationship as an innate wrongness. Now -- well, now, she was just being a silly bint.
And speaking of silly bints... Spike raised his head in the direction of the little one, the beauty that he'd sworn his unlife to protect. Dawn had her hands clasped in front of her, her head bowed as she stared at the ground, and her shoulders shook, though not from the cold of the rainfall and wind. He looked back down at Buffy and saw that she had followed his gaze. Tilting his head, he gave her a questioning look, and she nodded, smiling and letting go of his arm. Spike leaned into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips, then pulled away before he could get sucked into it again. Instead, he gave her another gentle peck on the forehead before walking over to the shaking teen. When he was in front of her, Spike reached out and clasped both of her hands in his, lifting them to his lips.
Dawn stayed still for an entire minute before she looked up at him, her big teary blue eyes filled with regret and sadness. Quietly, she opened her mouth and said, "Buffy told me what happened, before you... before last year. When you left. She explained how... it was just as much her fault as it was yours. X-Xander just got to me first a-and skewed my way of thinking."
A sob erupted from her lips. "I believed him. I believed Xander when I knew that he'd always had it out for you. I never asked you myself -- by the time I found out, you were already gone. And I should have known that Xander didn't know what he was talking about, especially if Buffy still trusted you enough after what happened to look after me. You were my only friend for so long, you treated me like an adult when no one else would, and you protected me until you bled, and I still believed Xander over you. I-I saw you that last year here, trying so hard, hurting so much, and I started believing in you again, even though I was still mad. I saw Xander start to come around, and Buffy's heart was with you from the minute you came back, but I was just so mad and hurt... And I thought... t-that you would still be around, waiting for me to forgive you. That I wouldn't have to do it then, that year, that day, because we would all survive that apocalypse, and I could do it when I wanted to." Her face crumpled and the flow of her tears quickened as she sniffled and gasped. "I never thought you'd die."
She sucked in a deep breath, lifting her hands to meet his face, cringing when he gave a small flinch in response. She supposed she deserved that sort of reaction -- the last time she'd really talked to him, she'd threatened to set him on fire, after all. "Spike, I wasn't just mad that you hurt Buffy and left -- I was furious that you'd left me. You'd hurt me. After everything that happened that summer, after everything we went through, you left, and I needed you! You're my big brother, you're my Spike, how could you leave without thinking about what it would do to me? I loved--" she sobbed again and threw her arms around him fiercely, "I love you so much, and I am so sorry, Spike, I am so incredibly sorry!"
Spike's jaw flexed and he gripped her as hard as he dared to, planting kisses across the crown of her head and rocking her back and forth, the way a father would his child. He let her cry, and he let her apologize until she was gasping for air, and then he shushed her, holding her lovingly until her gasps and miserable cries quieted. By the time she was silent, Buffy had made her way over to them, her own eyes filled with tears as she stroked her younger sister's hair, her blonde head resting against Spike's shoulder.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, sweets," Spike said gently, his voice deep and choked with his own emotions. He felt that nothing had ever hurt him as deeply as to see this young one in tears, except for the death of the women he loved. "You never knew my side, an' Buffy never told you hers; you only had Harris's bit to go on, an' you were only doin' what you thought you should. You were protectin' the only blood family you had left. I knew that; I never took offense. An' it hurt like hell to have you hate me, but I knew why. I told you I'd never hurt you or your sister, an' I broke my promise. I had to make myself better 'fore I could even think of bein' 'round you two again, you understand?"
Dawn slowly nodded her head in response. God, she hadn't even realized that -- he'd thought she'd hated him? How could she begin to explain what she'd felt when now that everything had come to light, she wasn't even sure herself? She could at least put his mind at ease a little. "I never hated you, Spike. I was just... mad." She pouted. "And I made you go all insane."
He tilted his head at her, shrugging one shoulder -- the one that was not currently Buffy's pillow. "Well, Dawn, I figure you'd hafta be a bit of loco to survive the Hellmouth. Not to mention you two. Oi! 'S true!" he yelped as his girls simultaneously smacked his chest. Dawn gave a tiny giggle, and a soft, pleased smile appeared on his face. "Got you ta grin," he said gently. He wrapped one arm tightly around Buffy, the other pulling Dawn closer to him before closing his eyes. "Gods, you two... Buffy, Dawn... 'S so good to see you again." He gave a gentle huff of amusement. "An' I got Percy to thank for it."
The sisters glanced at each other quizzically, and then back at Spike. "Percy?" Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows.
Spike smiled at her. "The Watcher bloke, the one workin' with Peaches? Wesley?" At Buffy's expression of understanding, he continued. "Took me 'bout a month an' a half to convince anyone to call you. Peaches started actin' funny 'bout it, sayin' you'd get upset if you knew, then Percy ignored him an' called you anyway. How come Peaches still thinks you lot are in Italy?"
Dawn looked at him oddly. "Be-cause he's working for a big evil law firm. Duh, Spike, we don't trust him anymore. And, like you said, he's been acting weird." She looked at her sister. "Probably your fault, as usual."
Buffy scoffed. "Why is it my fault? Xander was just as much to blame for Angel's weirdness! Xander's the one that opened the door to the Hyperion, let the sunlight in and set Angel on fire!"
"Buffy, when we stopped in L.A. after the Hellmouth collapsed, you took him aside and told him that the cookies had burned."
Spike snorted and Buffy looked up at him, surprise and a bit of embarrassment on her face before turning back to Dawn. "W-Well, excuse me, but Spike had just died! The night before, I'd made the stupid mistake of telling Angel that there was a future for us, and that stupid cookie analogy came back to bite me in the ass. I knew there wasn't ever going to be a future for Angel and me. He gave up on me a long time ago. I moved on with my life, and when Spike -" she turned to look at the blond vampire mid-sentence, "- Spike, when you died, I knew that was it. I wasn't ever going to be able to move on from you. I told Angel that thing about me being cookie dough so that he would leave me alone and give me some time to figure everything out between you and me. When I told him that the cookies had burned, it meant that cookie me had already been baked and burned in the Hellmouth with you." She glanced at him and frowned when she saw his shoulders shaking in repressed laughter. Dawn's amusement wasn't any less obvious. The Slayer rolled her eyes.
"Fine, so I suck at analogies. What I'm trying to get at here is that, the love I felt for Angel, that 'forever love' I thought we had? It burned up in the Hellmouth as soon as I lost you, Spike. I never thought I'd get you back, and I couldn't live with that. So I told Angel the cookies were burned -- I told him that there was never going to be another chance for him and me. It just wasn't ever going to work out. There was only one person I wanted, one person that I loved... and he was gone."
The giggle-fits that had overtaken Spike earlier vanished as she continued to speak, and his eyes softened. "Say it," he demanded tenderly.
Buffy turned fully into him and blurted out, "I love you," her eyes wide and as green as ever, and a perma-smile on her face. Dawn leaned into the vampire, a happy smile on her own face as Spike yanked her sister close and pressed his lips fervently to hers. He let go of Buffy a second later, then smiled down at Dawn and kissed her on the forehead. "And you?" he asked, a coy smirk on his face.
Dawn hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek to his chest. "I love you, too, Spike. Both of us do. More than anything."
Every terrible, happy thing that had led up to this moment felt right. Somehow, it was right for him to be this happy. He wasn't sure whether or not he deserved it, but he knew for damn sure he was keeping it, no matter what. After everything he and his girls had gone through, it was about damn time that the world changed in their favor, that the Powers That Be give them something back after everything that had been taken from them.
He was with his beautiful girls again, and that was all that mattered. "I love you both," he murmured, hugging them close as the rain continued to wash over them.
As they began to walk away from the crater, Dawn asked him, "So where'd you get that hot car from?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "One of Peaches' fringe benefits in workin' for the law firm. He's got a garage filled to the bloody brim with every neat set of wheels on the market. 'Course, the wanker's only got cars. Not a single damn bike in there."
Buffy smirked at him. "You stole the car, didn't you?"
He shrugged, a grin on his face. "You know me well, m'love."
"What's the significance?" she continued.
The grin turned sheepish. "It's his favourite. Not that you'd think he'd notice with all the ones he's got, but he won't even drive the others. Actually, he should've noticed I did a bunker with it about twenty minutes ago."
Dawn's eyes greedily took in the contours of the sharp looking car, questioning Spike without looking at him, "Does he have to have it back right away?"
"Yep." The girls turned to look at him in surprise. He waggled his eyebrows. "That'd be the first of never. 'M not goin' back to L.A., an' this pretty little piece can make the trip with me."
Buffy sidled up against him, playing with the lapels of his duster and smiling. "And where exactly are you going to be taking it?"
He smiled down at her, one of the few genuine smiles she'd seen him direct at anyone. "Was thinking of going back across the pond... visit a certain Slayer, a Key... their stuffy, uptight Watcher..."
Buffy tilted her head up and graced him with a hard, deep kiss. "Sounds like a plan."
"Oh, I know it is, pet... you an' Dawn... you're my world."
"Spike?" Dawn said over her shoulder, as they moved toward the cars.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
The teenager let loose a dazzling smile that somehow showed Spike the women she was going to be and the lovely child that she still was.
"Call me Nibblet."
Fin.