Spike paces the floor of his crypt, being driven out of his bloody mind as he tries not to think of Buffy. Easier said then done. Ever since she'd went and kissed him, pretending to be the Bot, she'd been on his mind. More so than usual, anyway. And it was enough to drive him mad.
Buffy had kissed him, and without the freeings of a spell. His lips still tingled from the memory. Granted they were twice the size when it had happened, a bit worse off as they'd been subjected to a few hours of torture by the Hell God, but he had felt it. The Slayer's lips, on his. Buffy's.
It was afterwards, when she'd stopped and took a good look at him, that he realized how completely clueless he was in his entire approach. He had a Buffybot made. A sodding robot, like that'd have ever been able to compare to the warmth and feel of Buffy. And he'd been satisfied with it, too. He'd been completely content to lay with the hunk of scrap metal as it spouted off the continual drivel about how chiseled his abs were and how amazingly blue his eyes were, just because it was Buffy in his arms.
Or, so was his initial thinking.
Actually feeling the real thing, actually feeling her... her warm body leaning into his, her soft lips against his own bruised ones? It spun things in a whole new light for him. No way the Bot even compared to the real thing. Not like he'd actually ever get to feel the real thing again, though. He'd pretty much bollocksed whatever slim chance he might've had with Buffy by having the bloody thing built.
Spike pulls himself onto his sarcophagus, bringing his legs up into a sitting position. He should probably be sleeping now, it being daylight and all. Except he can't. Every time he closes his eyes, there's Buffy. Dressed in the Bot's clothes, standing no more than a foot away from him. Breathing out those hot, wispy breaths of air that he can almost tangibly feel. Heart tapping away nervously, thumping in his own ears, vibrating down into his own throat. Her leaning forward, those pink, gloss-covered lips slowly lowering towards his...
So, you see, he's having trouble getting any bit of rest in. Can't get any, not with those constant images. Not with the reminder that that's all they are. And... not that he's tired, anyway, especially with Passions coming on soon.
But that's beside the point.
Buffy'd come to him for help the other day, too. Brought along the Nibblet, asking Spike to look after and protect her. Glared at him a bit, but surprisingly didn't throw out any threats of the sharp and wooden variety. And he obliged, of course. Took Dawn, watched over her, kept her safe as they trudged along the finer caverns of underground Sunnydale.
You know, and the Slayer had a funny way of showing her appreciation for that.
Ohh, right--she didn't.
Buffy came back the last time, drained from some minor scuffle with Glory. Explained where it was she'd run off to, what it was she'd done. All the while speaking in a clipped tone that left no room for his own personal two cents. Then she got Dawn, took her home. Left him there. All without so much as a second glance thrown his way.
Which was typical, really. Not that he realistically expected any better. She didn't seem to care or take notice that he was still covered in cuts and bruises from his own altercation with Glory. Didn't seem to appreciate the fact that he'd dropped everything he'd been doing to help. That he'd ran after her, damn near barking at her bloody heels as he followed her around like the lapdog he's so pathetically become.
Not a word.
And even more annoying, that was the last Spike's seen of her. Granted it's only been a few days since, but it's the fact of the matter--she only comes to him when she's wanting something. Never mind that he's evil, as she so constantly likes to remind him. Except that fun bit of information seems to get forgotten more often than not when she's needing something. But when it's him on the wanting end? When it's him professing his feelings, or him just looking to spend a little and entirely platonic time with her? Ohh, she breaks out with the same boring brand of disgust, throwing out "evil" and "soulless" - her two favorite words - faster than bloody anything.
Bit ironic, isn't it? That she then runs to the Big Bad for baby-sitting duty? Too evil to talk to, but not nearly enough to leave her with any wavering doubts about dropping kid sis off with him.
Just as that thought settles, as a self-depricating chuckle starts to work its way upwards, his crypt door flies open. It connects loudly with the wall, startling him. Buffy comes breezing through the next second, her open jacket billowing dramatically as she stomps her way towards Spike. He notices the burning look in her eyes and can't help but feel any swell of hope that might've began to form at her presence die down.
So, not a social call then? Pity.
"Slayer, so nice of you to knock," he says, all mock-appreciation. "Wait, no, that's right--you didn't knock. You'd think a little thing like me being tortured in the good sake of you and the Bit would merit some sort of manners--"
"Shut up, Spike."
"Ohh, a classic, is it?" he asks sarcastically, wide-eyed. The lack of a good, responsive quip on her part is actually kind of disappointing. "Reverting back to the originals, I see."
She ignores his jab and instead strolls right up in front of him. Comes to a quick stop, slamming on the brakes with that Slayer finesse. "Grab some blood," she orders, all down-to-business like, "You're coming with me."
"Yeah, or--" Spike pauses in his automatic retort, her words registering. "What?"
"I don't have time to explain, okay? Glory found us."
Spike's immediately and pathetically up and off the sarcophagus at that. "Dawn--she's okay? You're alright?"
"For now. We're leaving."
He can't help but pick up on a few choice words, and everything in him, from his posture straight through to his anger, starts to lift. Confused, he eyes her suspiciously. Best to make sure he isn't hearing things. "As in me too?"
"As in I need your help," she's quick to reply, only it sounds much more like a self-reassuring justification than an actual explanation. "We have to get out of Sunnydale."
Right. His confusion deepens. "And how exactly does that involve me?"
"We need to find a car. Something big..." She lets out an exhausted breath, breathing it back in shakily, and it's then that he starts to realize how truly exhausted she looks. How her shoulders slump like she's carrying the weight of the world on them. "I don't know," she tells him, not bothering to hold back on the desperation. "I just know that we need something that'll get us out of town, and we need it pretty much now."
In some unconcious form of self-comfort, Spike starts tapping his jeans for his smokes. He's thrown off by her presence, yeah, but even more so by being included in her plans. "And, so... what you're needing is for me to get you one?"
"Yeah, but..." She trails off, sighing. Reconsiders her options. "I need something we can all travel in."
"That's it?" Spike shrugs, taking a quick step back to collect his duster. "That's easy, Slayer. I can hotwire us up something right quick. You, me, and Dawn. Get us as far away from--"
She cuts him off with a hard shake of her head. "No."
"No? I thought you just said--"
"We're all going," she tells him flatly, in a voice and with a strength that demands no argument. "We have to. Everyone..."
Spike frowns, not liking the sound of that. "Everyone?"
"I can't leave them here, Spike. Not with Glory. What she did to Tara... I can't..."
"Right." Spike pauses, thinking things over. "And you s'pose I can get something big enough for the whole lot of you, where?"
"I don't know," she admits, frustrated. Her face crumbles a little. "God, I really don't know."
"Yeah." Spike quiets, running all of his resources through in his mind. He can always nick something, though he has a feeling that won't go over too well with Buffy. There are a few ways he can get a vehicle, most of them illegal and all he knows without having to ask she wouldn't approve of. The list of legal ways to help is annoyingly slim. Still, though. "Listen," he starts, encouraged by the way her eyes immediately jump to his at his voice. "I know a bloke. He has this... it's like a tank, really. Blacked out windows, wrapped in tin foil, all nice and safe from Mr. Sunshine for the likes of yours truly. Some sodding box on wheels, big enough for the whole unit of you. I could probably get that."
Buffy visibly relaxes at the news, and with the small, relieved sag of her shoulders, he feels a twinge of pride at being the cause of it. A little bit of hopefulness shoots through him at the way she looks at him, eyes all full of trust. "You think you could?"
"Yeah," he assures her, smiling softly. Trying so bloody hard to play it indifferent and cool, even though his inner-ponce is currently spouting off some poetic nonsense or other. "Guy owes me a few litters, but I think I can get him to trade 'em up for this. And if he doesn't?" His smile turns into a smirk, and he shrugs. "I'll just nick the thing. Show 'em who's still running what 'round here."
"Good," she says, absentmindedly. She's looking away, playing things through in her mind, no doubt. Making plans already. Her head snaps up again and her eyes immediately seek his, this sort of mutual comradery blazing behind the black and hazel. "Okay, you're sure you can get it? Spike, we need this."
Spike likes the way that sounds. Needing something from him. An actual something, a literal something. Not just baby-sitting kid sis. "Yeah," he answers, his voice thick with emotion. "I can do this for you, Slayer."
"I don't know how long we're gonna be gone. I don't even know..."
"I'll just grab a few packs of blood," he rushes to say, telling her casually, reassuringly. "I'm sure it won't be long."
There's a nod, one that she doesn't even seem to be aware of. "I have a few more things to do. Can you pick me up when you're done?"
"Yeah, uh... where?"
"I have to grab some weapons, so I'm thinking... my house?" Her eyes widen and her heart starts to tick faster. "Wait, you don't think that'll be too obvious?"
"It's fine," he insists, liking this role he's playing. He's calming her. She's trusting him. Makes him feel useful. "I don't think this Glory bint's smart enough to find her way back twice." He watchs her for a few seconds, just staring at her as she's seemingly lost in her own thoughts once again. He can't help but stare at her lips, remembering how they felt against his own. And then he remembers that they actually have something to do, places to go, so he draws himself back. "So, about thirty minutes--"
That catches her attention. "Spike, we don't have thirty minutes. I need this now."
"Slayer, you just came strolling through my door, not two minutes ago, asking me to help move the entire lot of you out of Sunnydale. Thirty minutes is about as good as I can do, 'less you have a better plan?"
"Fine. Just... try for faster," she tells him, quickly growing anxious again. "We don't have any time to spare. The longer we stay here, the more time it gives her to find us. She can't find us, Spike. If she does, and she takes Dawn..."
"She won't, Slayer. I won't let her, you know that." He takes a hesitant step forward, bringing him just a few inches in front of her, and tilts his head to look level at her. Drops his voice to a lower, more gentler tone. "Think I still got a few bruises left over to prove it, too."
She smiles back. An honest to God smile, and directed at him. One that fades just as soon as it'd come. "Alright. I'll be waiting outside my house in thirty minutes. If you're not there..."
"I'll be there," he vows. "Said I would, didn't I?"
"Fine."
"Buffy, I...." He hesitates, wanting then to tell her how much he's willing to give up for her, for Dawn. Ready to tell her how deep his feelings run, and how far he'll go to protect them. But now isn't the time for heroic declarations. "She'll be safe," he tells her instead.
"I know." She falters, her mouth open like she wants to say something else. But then it snaps shut without another sound, and, with a holding look that serves as the predictable threat of 'I'll stake you good and proper', she turnes on her heels and starts to head out.
Spike sighs as he watches her go. He's so unappreciated around this sodding town. A nagging voice in his head picks up, loud and annoying, telling him that he's only being asked to help because he's extra muscle. Buffy didn't come to Spike because she wanted to, she's here by default. She hangs with a bunch of groupies, and while all of them have their respective places at her side, they have no real strength. He does, so he gets sought out. Nothing more to it than that.
But there are important things to do - car to be nicked, a group of bloody annoying Scoobies to collect, Buffy and the Bit to whisk away to safety - so he pushes that thought away. There's no way this Hell Bitch is going to get Dawn, not if he has any say in it.
Spike didn't have his insides rearranged just for the fun of it, that's for damn sure.
"Spike," Buffy suddenly calls out, catching his attention. She'd stopped in the doorway, standing there with the sunlight pouring in from behind her, making her look all the more beautiful--making her glow. And then she smiles. Just a little, just enough to curl the corner of her lips upwards, and just enough to let him know that it's heartfelt. "Thanks."
He stares at her for a few seconds, his eyes meeting hers in silence. A 'thank you' is the last thing he expected to come from her. A genuine one, at that. He ducks his head down, not really knowing what to say. Now that he's actually gotten some form of gratitude, he doesn't feel worthy of it, especially when he hasn't even done anything except agree to help.
"Yeah," Spike finally says, looking up again to find her still staring at him. It makes him uncomfortable, and he only holds her gaze for a second or two longer, just basking in the feel of a rare, grateful look, before he starts to move again. No time for idle chit chat, no matter the ways it warms him up inside. "Welcome, Slayer."
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!