Spike was going to call Buffy up in Rome.
Well, he was as soon as he stopped being such a damn ponce and picked up the bloody phone.
He'd already talked himself into it, now it was only a matter of dialing her number and managing to not hang up before she answered. Honestly, he had no idea where this sudden bout of nerves was coming from. He'd just flown all the way to Rome on a missed visit to see her not two weeks ago, and that hadn't rattled him in the slightest.
Okay, possibly in the slightest - but nothing major. Nothing like this.
Balls.
He picked up the phone, blew out a deep breath, and started to dial the number he had written on a torn piece of paper. The number he'd had to hold Angel's precious bottles of hair gel hostage to get out of the Champ. So bloody protective of it. And not the number, mind you, the hair gel. Nearly keeled over when he saw Spike threatening to dump the things if he didn't hand over Buffy's number. First drop he'd spilt, the Champ practically whimpered in protest before giving in.
So ironic, you know.
Angelus is the sodding epitome of torture. Reveled in it. Made it his art.
And Angel, well... Spike took some hair products, spilt a drop not big enough to do any lasting damage, and Angel nearly withered to his knees, already giving in before Spike had time to even fully enjoy it all.
Spike dialed the rest of the number, emboldened with the fact that - he may be a ponce, all nervous to call up Buffy, but at least he wasn't back home petting bottles of hair gel lovingly like the Champ was no doubt still doing.
Soon enough, someone on the other line picked up.
"Hello."
Spike nearly stopped breathing at hearing her voice. He wasn't sure what he expected when he called, didn't know who would answer the phone - and to have it be Buffy. After all that time, just hearing her voice...
"Hello?" she said again, this time a bit louder.
"Buffy."
The line went dead. Or so Spike thought, a deafening silence filling the space. He listened harder and picked up the light sound of her heavy breathing, muffled from being separated by phone line and an ocean and continent.
"Spike?"
He had to smile. The breathy way she said his name... was like a scene out of one of his fantasies. Minus the fact that he was on the phone and not currently wrapped around her like it always played out in each of the reunions his mind invented.
"Hello, pet."
Real sophisticated on his part.
Not that she was doing much better. "Spike? Is that... you?"
"Yeah, it's me. How are you?"
"Good," she said absentmindedly, making him laugh a bit. "I mean, things are... reasonably hectic, but good."
"I'm glad."
"You're calling me," she said disbelievingly.
"Right. About that: Buffy, I'm back--"
"I know," she cut in, sounding dazed. "I mean, obviously I know now, you're talking to me, but... I know. I knew."
"You knew?"
"I can't believe you're calling me."
"Yeah, well, figured the Champ wouldn't mind me using his phone and all, me dialing 10-10-220... You knew?"
"That you were back?" she said, sounding infinitely more calm than just the few seconds go. "Of course I knew."
"You knew, and you didn't bother to let me know?"
"Me not bother to let you know?" she asked back incredulously, more like the Buffy he knew. "I really don't think that's an argument you're allowed to start."
"Who said I wanted to argue?" he countered, and already this conversation had taken a nosedive for the worse. Had to be record timing, too.
Sounding exasperated, she sighed. "What do you want, Spike?"
"Oh, so we're back to that, are we? No, 'glad that heroic death of yours wasn't as final as we all thought', no 'thanks for saving the world - would've sent a fruit basket if I'd've known you were back'? Just straight through to the business side of our relationship." He paused, gasping with shocked realization. Hardened his voice. "Ohh, wait. We don't have a relationship."
"And whose fault is that? You never even told me you were alive--"
"Maybe that's because I'm not alive."
She blew out a deep breath. "You never told me you were back. I had to hear about it from Andrew, who tells me that not only are you back, you were never even gone."
"Well, the boy obviously lies. Was too gone. You saw me - I didn't burn up just for show."
"How long, then?"
He took a second to answer. "About three weeks."
"You were gone for only three weeks before you came back?"
"About, yeah."
"God, so you've been back a year?"
"More or less."
"And it never once occurred to you to let me know? You couldn't have picked up the phone earlier, 'Gee, Buffy, you can stop mourning me now - I'm not dead anymore!'"
"Wait, you mourned me?"
"I can't believe you've been back a year, Spike. And you didn't tell me."
"I couldn't tell you."
"Really, and why not? Lessons from Angel: How To Do What's Best For Buffy?"
"This has nothing to do with him," he sighed.
"Which is why you work for him?"
"I don't work for him, I work with him. It's an entirely separate thing."
"So, what's this now? Business partners get into a little fight with each other, need some time apart, and you figure time well spent would be to come barreling back into my life?"
"First off, you can stop with the metaphors. I stuck around with Angel because I had nowhere else to go, or has your new boyfriend got you so distracted you've forgotten the big dust-bowl that once was Sunnydale?"
"Distracted--"
"And second of all, I'm not barreling into your bleeding life again, so you can drop the self-righteous routine."
There were a few cold seconds that passed before he heard her voice again.
"So this is why you called? To say hurtful things--"
He sighed. "Look, it's not why I called, alright? I just wanted to talk to you."
"For what?"
"I need a reason to ring you up now?"
"When you're essentially calling from the grave, yes."
"Could be I just wanted you to know I was back."
“I already knew you were back. Even if Andrew didn’t tell me, you think I would’ve missed the fact that you and Angel took a romantic honeymoon vacation out here last week?"
Spike bit back the urge to defend his manhood, more interested that she'd known they were in Rome. "So you knew we were there?"
"Hm, let's see... heightened demon activity, The Immortal getting incredibly pissed, an explosion, that really low-key bar brawl -- yeah, I knew."
"So that's why you avoided your apartment all night, then?"
"I didn't avoid my apartment. I was out. On a date. And it's not like I even knew you were here, not until you were already gone at least."
"Right. So I guess that phone call from you I just missed. You know, the one where you're happy I'm back, where you're sorry you missed me the time or three at your flat--"
"How would I call you, Spike? I wasn't even supposed to know you were alive."
That silenced him.
"You're so pissed that I didn't do anything to get in contact with you," she continued angrily. "And you didn't even want me to. You didn't even care enough to tell me you were back, to let me know you weren't dead, so why would I try to call you if you didn't want me to?"
"Are you completely daft?" he shot back, not believing that this conversation was actually being had. "Of course I wanted you to."
"Oh, and you have the best way of showing it. When you say you wanted me to know, do you mean like the time you told Andrew specifically not to tell me, or the time you came all the ways to Rome and never even bothered to stick around and talk to me?"
"Yeah, excuse me for not waiting home on your bloody doorstep for your date to finish."
"Well excuse me for trying to move on after you clearly already did!"
"I haven't moved on, you're all I bloody think about."
"Could've fooled me."
"Come off it, alright?" he bit out. "You think I could've just showed up at your doorstep a few weeks after going out in a literal blaze of glory? Think I could've just knocked on your door, having just saved the world? Died a hero, came back a bloody ghost. And I died for you, so you could be happy. I wasn't gonna muck up your life again by, what was it you said -- barreling back through."
"Spike," she sighed, voice much softer. "You 'muck up' my life whether you're here or not."
"And what's that mean?"
"It means I missed you, you dope. Knowing you were back and knowing you didn't want me anymore--"
"Not want you anymore?" he choked out incredulously, laughing. "Buffy, I will always want you."
"Just, listen, okay?" She waited for an agreement, and continued at his silence. "I thought you didn't want me anymore. Why else would you not come back? I mean, I mourned you, you know? When I thought you were dead, I did. I felt like it was my fault, so hello to the heaping amounts of guilt--"
"It was my decision--"
"I know, but I was the one who asked you to wear the amulet, I was the one who recruited you for a battle I never even gave you the chance to sign up for. And so, yeah, we pulled away from Sunnydale, away from the rubble and dust, and mourning ensued. I missed you. I did. I thought... what I last said to you, before you died, before everything sort of collapsed... and what you said. I thought that you thought I was just trying to make it easier for you. That I was just saying it, just... throwing you a bone or something. And that hurt. And then I find out that you're alive, from Andrew, months later, and not just that... he tells me I'm not supposed to know. Spike doesn't want me to know. Spike wants to stay in LA -- I got mad. Really kind of pissed, because who were you to not tell me? After everything we went through that last year in Sunnydale, the changes between us, feelings... who were you to just keep it a secret that you were back?"
"Would it have mattered if I’d’ve told you?"
"Of course it would‘ve mattered," she shot back angrily. "Spike, you really think I care so little about you that I wouldn't be happy you were back?"
"I don't know how you feel about me. Not exactly sure I want to, either."
"When I said I loved you--"
"I appreciated it--"
"Spike-"
"No, I figured it out. When you first said it, I didn't believe it, of course. But afterwards, stuck in that proverbial stalemate at Wolfram and Hart for all that time, I understood. You loved me then. In that moment, for those two minutes. I was... well, heroic, dying all painfully and saving the world and all. Hard not to love that. And I got it. So, it's okay, that you said it."
"I meant it."
Well that went and threw his world a loop. "When you said--"
"I meant it."
"Wasn't just a sweetly-veiled thank-you?"
"No," she said, voice trembling a little with laughter. "Have I ever sugar-coated things with you?"
"Never," he admitted, chuckling tightly. "So... you meant it?"
"I did. And you, you big jerk, had to ruin it with the 'no you don't, thanks for saying' it stuff."
"Well. Wanted you to know I appreciated it..."
"So you really didn't believe me?"
"Don't think I believe you even now," he admitted.
"Why?"
"It's you, Slayer. It's you and it's me, and we're not... you don't love me. Said so yourself that you could never love me."
"I think things have dramatically changed since I said that."
"Yeah, maybe. With you. But I'm still the same, Buffy."
"I think the fact that you have a soul means that you're not."
"Maybe."
"So, is this why you called? To see how I felt about you?"
"Part of it," he admitted.
"And what are the other parts? Or do I have to wait and hear about them from Andrew?"
Spike couldn't help but smile. Straightforward, that's the Buffy he remembered. "I just wanted to talk to you, tell you I was back."
"Oh..."
"You talked to Angel lately?" he asked suddenly.
"No..." she answered, hesitating. "I haven't talked to him since before I moved to Rome. Why?"
"No reason, just - figured if you did, he'dve told you already."
"Told me what?"
"There's a fight tomorrow."
"A fight," she repeated slowly.
"Big battle the Poof's starting. One of those generally labeled 'apocalyptic', you know. Dramatic filler, heroic endings, various amounts of carnage."
"Hold on -- Angel's starting a battle? Where, and how, and... what?"
"If you want details, I can connect you to his line..."
"I don't want him to tell me, I want to hear it from you. What's going on?"
"It's Angel's one last drive at reformation. Gonna take down the Circle of Black Thorn--"
"The who of what?"
"Circle of Black Thorn. Look, I'm not exactly sure it's wise to be telling you all this, I don't want you getting involved--"
"Too late. Spill. Who are the Black Thorn and what do they have to do with anything?"
"Doesn't matter who they are, what matters is that we have to take them out. Which we're doing, tomorrow. And judging by the role they play in the Greater Scheme of Things, what'll be jumpstarted is a hissy fit by the Senior Partners big enough to wipe out all involved. Which is why you're not getting involved."
"But you are?"
"Already neck-deep in it. Besides, figure it'll be fun. You'd think living in LA you'd come across your more deadly demons, but all we ever get is your random fledgling popping up every now and then. Maybe your deranged, psychotic Slayer..."
"I can't believe it..."
"I know, tell me about it. Especially after coming from Sunnydale, Demon Central. We're talking huge let-down--"
"Not that," she muttered, cutting him off in annoyance. "This is why you called, isn't it?"
He paused a second or two. "Yeah."
"What is this? Is this... goodbye?" she asked incredulously.
"Was thinking more hello..."
"Spike--"
He got serious, quick. "There are things I've done - things I regret - most of which revolve around you. But this thing tomorrow, we're not gonna walk away from. I'm not wearing any flashy jewelry of any sort, flattering or not, so I'm not looking to pop out in any more law firms for a fourth go around. It's it for me. Knowing that, I just... wanted to get in a hello. Wanted you to know from me that I was back, 'case word got around to you later."
"Spike..."
"It's alright though. About tomorrow. Typical, you know, going out in another blaze of glory. I mean, you do it once and people just assume you'll make a habit out of it."
She laughed. Sad little sound that made everything that much more difficult. "But maybe you won't. Maybe you're wrong--"
"I'm not," he cut in, wanting to believe her but already knowing the truth. "You don't know these Senior Partners like I do, Buffy. What we start won't be finished until the last of us is dead, believe me. And if you don't, just ask Angel. He'll tell you, though... gotta warn you, he's a bit more pessimistic about it. Not that that's entirely surprising, him generally brooding about, well, everything."
"Is that why you're doing this? For him?"
Spike nearly laughed. "For Angel? Like the Poof would be so lucky. For once, Slayer, I'm doing it for me. A bit for a friend of mine, too, but mostly for me. I got my own battles to fight now, you know. Got my own reasons."
"And your reasons have to be suicidal?"
This time he did laugh. "Not saying it's the most encouraging of game plans..."
A few more seconds of silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say.
"I just... I can't believe you're calling me to say goodbye."
"You'd rather I not called at all?"
"Spike, I rather you would have called me when you first came back."
"Couldn't," he reminded her. "Ghostly deficiencies. I wasn't exactly able to pick up a phone, never mind dial the numbers."
"And after that?"
"Right. Well that was the whole bit where I couldn't come back to you on account of not being able to top my last exit."
"Is that why you even called now, because tomorrow's big battle is news worthy enough of topping your death?"
"Well it is, isn't it?" he joked lightly. "Admit it, Slayer, I'm the only one you know who's willingly welcomed the sodding Reaper going on a third time."
"Spike," she sighed, voice tight, but he could sense the smile in it. "How is it that you're the only person I know who'd be proud of that?"
"Fearless, pet. I have to do this."
"You said that before... at the Hellmouth."
"Yeah," he smiled, remembering. "Meant it then, too. Only - if I’d’ve known what I'd be getting myself into by staying, I'm not so sure I wouldn't have high-tailed it outta there with you."
She laughed. "So, you're not scared? About tomorrow?"
"Scared Angel'll blast some Manilow as a motivation factor - you know, rouse the troops and what-have-you - but as far as the Big Battle goes..."
"You have to do it."
"Right."
"I get that, I do. I still think it's incredibly stupid, and believe me, you have no idea how pissed I am at you right now, but... I get it."
"Well, yeah, you're a fighter, too. You, of all people, know what's it like. Jumped into that portal, didn't you? With the Hell-God?"
"Yeah," she said, breathing it out. "I can't believe we're comparing deaths," she laughed shakily.
"Oh, well clearly I've got the more impressive marks in that category."
"Hey, I've died twice, you know."
"First time hardly counted, Slayer. From what I heard, you were barely out a minute."
"A very long, traumatizing minute! And besides, that second one easily takes the cake."
"How's that, you defeated a banished bitch God -- I, on the other hand, personally saw to the destroying of an entire Hellmouth."
"Personally?" she repeated incredulously. "So I guess the rest of us down there were just unimportant things getting in your way."
"Exactly, now you're getting it."
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he could feel her smiling. Perfectly visualize it.
"So, what are your plans for tonight?” she asked after a moment of silence. “Big kamikaze mission tomorrow, you've got to be doing something special for end-of-the-world's sake."
"Was planning on going out and getting heavily pissed."
"Exciting."
"Yeah, well you didn't hear the second part of that plan."
"The part where you wake up tomorrow morning with a hang-over?"
He smiled. "Cute, but no."
"What is it?" she pried.
"Not telling."
"Spike..."
"Hey, I'm repressing it for my own benefit, so none of your needling, no matter the amount, is gonna get it out of me."
"Fine, I didn't want to know anyway. And besides, getting drunk? That's possibly the lamest thing to do."
"Yeah, well - it's not last-night's-in-Sunnydale," he admitted, pausing thoughtfully. "Not unless you're suggesting I snuggle next to Angel all night, like I did with you."
"And thank you for the scarring visual that I will never be able to cleanse myself of."
"So, no snuggling?" he decided mockingly. "It's probably for the better, anyway. Bed's not so big, and Angel's, well, not so small..."
Buffy started to laugh. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"Yeah..."
"I can't believe you called me on the phone."
"I was just gonna email you. Lab here at Wolfram and Hart's got all these fancy computers. Got my own email account, too."
"Gee, thank you. Spike's goodbye would come via AOL. How personal."
He chuckled. "Which is why I ended up calling instead. And you have no idea the teeth I had to pull to get Angel to give up your number."
"Believe me, I have a pretty big idea."
"Right..."
"So," she started, when things turned awkward. "That's it? That's your plan - getting drunk?"
"And the second part of that--"
"The one you won't tell me about."
"And I'm talking to you. It's got to count for something."
"It does. I'm glad you called, Spike."
"Yeah. Me, too."
Another small silence stretched between them, giving Spike just enough time to let regret start to kick in. Knowing Buffy wasn't pissed at him, that she was happy to hear from him, really made his fate start to set in with him. And the fact that Buffy was so okay with everything hurt. He hadn't expected crying heaps of girly anguish out of her, but he'd have expected her to care a little.
"So you're really not gonna tell me what your big Part 2 is in your drunken plan?"
"Not a chance in hell, Slayer."
He could practically hear the pout in her words. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to see for myself."
That didn't sound right. He replayed it in his head, and - yep. Sounded off. "You'll see it--"
"For myself," she repeated. At his silence, she continued. "Oh, what - you think I'm just gonna let you and Angel start up some apocalypse and not do a thing about it? Please."
"You're--"
"Heading out to LA tomorrow morning. Surprise!" she added jokingly.
To say he was stunned was giving him a helluva lot of credit. He didn't know what to say. "Does Angel know you're hoppin' continents?"
"He's the one who asked me to come. Not that I wouldn't have offered anyway. But he called before you did, and we talked. Worked things out, made with the strategics. Me and a bunch of Slayers, Faith included, are packed and ready to go. I got in touch with Giles, who got in touch with Willow, who got in touch with a few other witches. We're bringing you guys our very own small army."
Spike just received a whole lot of news, most of which he was barely able to process, still stuck on the fact that Buffy was actually coming to Los Angeles. "Before," he started, fumbling it out there. "You said you didn't hear from Angel."
"I lied," she told him proudly.
"And about the Black Thorn?"
"That I actually didn't know about. I guess you guys are doing that before we get there, because Angel never mentioned it."
"Right." Buffy was coming to Los Angeles. It was all a bit surreal. "So, you're coming here, then?"
"Booked on the first flight that leaves in the morning. And I'm still pissed at you, by the way, so don't think I'm gonna let a little thing like the threat of a Demon War Zone overshadow the fact that you never told me you were back."
Hell. He knew it was all a bit too good to be true. "Yeah, well, supposing we survive this thing."
"You're doubting my fighting ability now?" she said, mockingly offended.
He snorted. "Doubting Angel's leadership abilities, is more like it."
"Oh. Well, good, because another reason for me to be mad at you wouldn't favor you in the least. We're talking huge amounts of anger and hurt her here, and the fact that you called me up tonight as your way of saying goodbye doesn't help."
"But on the bright side, you're coming here, so it sort of defeats the whole purpose of my phone call."
Nice try," she replied dryly.
"So you're really coming to LA?"
"In the fashionably tan flesh."
"You do realize it's for an apocalypse, right, Slayer? Not a frilly little vacation, all expense paid."
"I know," she said, breathing it out hard. "But that doesn't mean we can't take the time to appreciate the more bronzed me."
"Right," he snorted. "I'll be sure to remember that."
"Good," she replied happily. "Now, about this second part of your big plan that you're still not spilling..."
He smiled. "Not telling you, Buffy."
"Even though I'm flying, really, all the way across the world to come help you guys?"
"Not even then."
"Fine,” she replied, voice all low and coy. “I guess when I get to LA, I'll just have to bunk with Angel... You know, because I wouldn't want to get in the way of your great, private plans..."
"Poetry, alright?" he shot out, feeling his reputation dwindle at just the admission alone. "I'm going to some bar, liquoring myself into a state of comfortable drunkenness, and reciting some bloody poetry. And you're not staying with the Poof, he's got a soul to lose, and I'm thinking temptation would be better elsewhere - and besides, we wouldn't want his attention to stray away from the battle and all."
The line was silent for a few seconds before Spike heard the inevitable laughter.
"Poetry?" Buffy said, unable to contain herself. "Wow."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Alright, you got in your laughs, now forget I ever told you. Word gets around to Angel, I'll never hear the end of it."
"I'm not going to tell Angel," she promised. "I'm just..."
"Amused? If the girly giggling is any account."
"That," she agreed lightly. "And kinda sad that I'm missing it. I didn't even know you wrote poetry."
"I don't. Not any time this century, at least."
"It's kinda..." she trailed off.
"Poncey?” he filled in dryly. “Yeah, exactly why I wasn't shouting it to the Heavens above."
"I was gonna say... sexy. In a way."
That sucked the proverbial air out of his lungs.
Spike’s life had officially been twisted upside down, tossed around, and rearranged entirely. Not twenty minutes ago, he’d resigned himself to the fact that he would be dust by this time tomorrow. Had already accepted the fact that he was going to die in yet another epic battle. Not fifteen minutes ago, he’d barely worked up enough courage to call Buffy, and was talking to her for what he figured would be the first and last time since popping out of that amulet the eight or nine months ago.
And now the two of them were having a conversation. An actual conversation. And she was coming to LA, so even if Spike did die tomorrow (and he felt his chance of survival shoot up, just knowing Buffy would be there), at least he'd go out with her at his side again.
"Sexy, then?" he finally managed. "Didn't know you were into that sort of stuff, Slayer."
"I have a secret attraction to geeks," she mocked flatly. "What girl isn't into poetry, Spike? I just never figured you - black, leather-clad you - would be into that."
"Hey, I got layers you know. Some deeper than others."
"I'm beginning to see that," she agreed softly, letting it hang in the space between them. "So, I guess I should let you go. I wouldn't want to interfere with your getting drunk and all."
He smiled. While that was the initial plan, he had something here he liked a lot better. "I'd rather talk to you. If you're not doing anything, of course."
"What about your poetry? You said you had that thing--"
"Could always still recite some," he broke in, marveling at his own patheticness, even as the words passed his lips. "Different kind of audience, is all."
"Really?" she said, voice sounding almost flirting. "So, no public drunkenness?"
"Got my own beer," he told her.
"And no public poetry?"
"Got my own private listener."
“Uh huh. And the fact that you know I’m still mad at you for lying about being back--”
“Not even a factor. Unless you feel yourself start to forgive me, in which case, I fully support you.”
“Let’s hear the poetry first, and then we’ll talk about forgiveness.”
Spike couldn’t help but smile. “You’re sure you’re not too busy? Maybe got a date with The Immortal?”
“Smooth,” she replied flatly, teasingly. “No date. No Immortal. Spill with the poems.”
“Give us a minute - gotta let the alcohol sink in first.”
Buffy laughed lightly, breathing it out. Let the mood between them turn serious. “I’m glad you’re back, Spike. And I’m glad you called.”
-----------------------------------------------
Heh. My first fic of the "Buffy will save the day!" kind ;) Also: schmoop!
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!