II
She wasn’t used to being the assertive one in their relationship.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As a slayer, she was nothing but assertive. She supposed she was simply disconcerted at being nervous in his presence. She’d never before realized how tiresome it was to maintain a girlish crush, especially with the object of her affection just inches away, his hand brushing against hers with every step.
She remembered patrolling with Angel a lifetime ago, when she’d walked in the shoes of a girl that no longer existed. She hadn’t taken their relationship seriously then—not in the time before his transformation to a fish-killing baddie. Though nothing but a kiss of gratitude lived between her and Spike, she already felt as though she had experienced a world of intimacy with him. The knowledge of how he had felt prior to her death kept her awake at night, cold with the thought that her chance of warmth had died with her in that momentous jump.
There was tension between her and Spike that hadn’t previously existed. She didn’t remember being so nervous when alone with him before, save that one time that she had gone patrolling with him after Dawn revealed how he felt about her.
Spike was always around when she was miserable; she’d told him as much. It wasn’t a notion of blame; rather, she’d been ineloquently attempting to let him know how much she appreciated the comfort he had to offer. It was the reason she’d gone to him the first night after her resurrection, and practically every night thereafter. She’d gone drinking with him on their not-a-date, watched as he defended her honor in front of slimy semi-baddies, turned a blind eye at the kitten poker while battling the acknowledgment of what he had become to her.
There was a reason she kept running to him.
Buffy released a deep breath and kicked at the ground. “Tonight sucks,” she complained.
Spike stiffened beside her. “’m sorry,” he said. “I could…you wanna go back?”
“What? No. No! I didn’t mean…” Bah. That lousy tendency of speaking before she thought had obviously climbed out of the grave with her. “I didn’t mean…you. No, you’re the part of tonight that is very much not with the suckage.”
Spike didn’t say anything at that, though his lips curled into a half-pleased, half-crude grin.
“It’s more the entire thing,” she explained. “The friends and the Watcher and the bills and Dawn’s school work, which makes mine look like a Valedictorian’s.”
“Then it must be bloody tragic,” he teased lightly.
“Watch it, funny guy.”
He merely grinned and shook his head. “Why don’ you ask the lover witches to pitch in, pet?” he asked. “Charge them rent or what all. Last I checked, it was your house.”
“I was thinking the same thing earlier. I’m essentially a B&B owner who keeps getting stiffed.”
“So what? Make ‘em pay. It’s the least they can do after…”
The air between them grew awkward and silent again.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed softly, nodding. “It is. But hey, it’s not like they know about that.”
“That makes it all right?”
“No, it just gives them that much leeway. I think knowing that they thought they were doing the right thing has been the only thing to keep me from completely going bonkers.” She paused. “Well, that and you.”
Spike stopped walking. “What?”
She turned to look at him, arching a brow. “What? You thought I hadn’t noticed?”
“I jus’…no…” He shuffled uncomfortably. “I guess I never thought you’d actually admit it.”
Buffy winced, but shrugged. “Okay, yes, I deserve that.”
“What?” He paused, then frowned and sighed. “Bloody hell, Slayer, I din’t mean—”
“No, no, no. I know that. Stop. Look…” She held up a hand. “I want us to be normal, okay? Not the way we used to be but…me girl, you boy. No slayers, no vampires. Come on. Please? I don’t wanna worry with this tonight. Well, scratch that. Ever. I’m so tired of worrying with it.”
Spike’s eyes went wide and he looked away. “Buffy…are you sayin’…” A sigh rolled off his shoulders, and when his gaze found hers again, he was resigned. “’m bloody exhausted with tryin’ to keep up with you, pet. Talkin’ to you is like navigatin’ a minefield. It’s a rush, yeh, but a game of chicken with death nonetheless. I’m here ‘cause I love bein’ with you, but I’m sodding terrified that I’ll say somethin’ that mucks this up, or read too much into somethin’ you say an’…”
Buffy wet her lips. “What do you want, Spike?”
“You know what I want.”
The words inspired warmth through her body. Yes, she knew. At that moment, that instant, all doubt was cast aside and she was embraced with hope. The only thing she had to overcome was her fear—the same that really had no backing. She had absolutely no reason to fear confessing what she felt to him. He wouldn’t reject her. He wouldn’t turn her away. If anything, he would take her in his arms and never let go, and she would regain the heaven she’d lost. The bit of paradise that her friends had ripped away from her.
She supposed she was afraid of it because of what it meant—not from the stance of being a slayer in love with a soulless vampire, rather for the knowledge of how it would change everything. Like pre-wedding jitters to the ninth degree.
Buffy released a deep breath. She knew that it would be forever with Spike. Once she made that leap, there was no going back. He would love and worship her until the world ended, and she would love him, too.
She was just afraid, despite how much she wanted it.
“It’s okay,” she said instead, frowning inwardly at her cowardice. Chicken. “I know this…I’m not like I was before. I think you know that.”
His shoulders fell. “I know, luv,” he said. “I jus’ don’…I know this is all I’m gonna get. I know it. I’m not completely daft, right? I jus’…with as close as you let me get, I’m bloody terrified that I’m gonna bugger it all up. Or I’ll wake up an’ I’ll be in a world where you hate me an’ the only time I see you is when you wanna go a round of Kick The Spike. Or worse, I’ll wake up an’…” He caught himself just in time, his eyes distancing, and the unspoken you’re still gone rang heavily between them.
Buffy smiled softly and stepped forward. “I’m not going anywhere, Spike.”
And it was because of him that she was really okay with that.
“I know,” he replied. His tone was final. His eyes told a different story.
“And I’m not playing the ‘me slayer, you vampire’ game anymore.”
Spike cocked his head and studied her. “Whass’at mean, then?”
She thought about it for a minute, then met his eyes and smiled. “It means what it means,” she replied ambiguously, extending a hand. “Come on. Let’s patrol.”
A flicker of euphoria flashed across the vampire’s eyes as their fingers entwined, and the jolt of electricity that sparked at his touch wasn’t lost on her.
It took something like dying to bring her this far. In a cemetery with Spike, whom she wouldn’t even admit she was attracted to until the very end of her first life. Her true first life—she didn’t consider the few seconds that the Master had her technically dead counted for anything.
Her second life could possibly be a blessing in the guise of a curse. She didn’t know. She wasn’t all right yet, but when she was with Spike, she felt normal.
The graveyard was appropriately empty, beyond it being rather foggy in a typical Halloweenish fashion. Buffy sighed and worried her lip between her teeth, her mind rolling back to the years when this had been her favorite holiday. That had to have been telling, right? She remembered playing tag with her childhood neighbors, only her methods of tagging had always been closer to slaying. Even a few years ago, she’d been one with the spirit of October.
Her friends had a certain knack for sucking the joy right out of her.
“I wonder if demons had a big Constitutional Convention and decided that Halloween was going to be their day off just to be funny, unless they prowled a slayer-guarded hellmouth,” she pondered aloud.
Spike quirked a brow. “A demonic Constitutional Convention?”
“A meeting of malice,” she concluded with a nod. “101 Ways To Screw With Slayers.”
He flashed a grin. “Too bad I din’t take that course.”
She offered an inelegant snort. “I’m surprised you didn’t teach it.”
“You think if I had all the answers on the ins an’ outs of slayers, I’d’ve waited this long to make my move?”
“You haven’t waited this long. Moves have been made…and shot down, but made nonetheless.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re hell on a man’s ego, pet?”
She shrugged. “I’m just special like that.”
Spike’s smile softened a bit and he nodded, releasing her hand. There was that look on his face again. That look that he adapted every time he felt he needed to caution himself against getting too close for fear of getting burnt. He drew in a breath of air and tossed a glance to the stars. “Have you decided what field to tackle next in the unendin’ search for employment?” he asked.
“Well, let’s see. I need something away from customer service, or people of any sort.” She frowned. “Maybe I should open a home business.”
He snickered. “An’ sell what? Slayer protection from residential demons?”
“Sorry. Anya beat you to that idea.”
Her vampire chuckled at that. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Though honestly, I expected you to arrive at that conclusion eons ago.”
“I’m not gonna charge people to save their lives, Spike.”
“Why not?”
A frown marred her face. “It’s wrong.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’ stop your honey, right? Isn’t that his bloody business? Solvin’ people’s problems for a pretty penny? Helpin’ the soddin’ helpless as long as they have funds in the bank?”
Buffy scowled. “He’s not my honey,” she countered. “And if that’s his prerogative, so be it. It’s not mine.”
Spike’s brows arched appraisingly. “What’s this?”
“I just don’t understand him anymore, and I really don’t care to.” She crossed her arms, feeling at once self-conscious. “I went to see him…recently.”
A very still beat settled between them. And just for a second, she felt like a woman admitting to her lover about an illicit affair. Gross. Dirty. She wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell him, in all honesty, that it meant nothing. That the entire encounter had only reaffirmed what she’d suspected ever since she got back. That Angel wasn’t what she wanted. That in going to see him, her eyes had opened to what she had waiting for her at home. That she wouldn’t trade being with him right now for a thousand years with Angel. That her feelings for her first great love had died to softer affection. That he’d been one guy she knew in high school who taught her the elementary aspects of love. The one that prepared her for the love of her life, but didn’t fill his shoes.
“I know,” Spike said softly. “I came over to see you…make sure all was…an’ the Bit told me you’d gone.”
Buffy wet her lips. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, her mind cried. “Yeah,” she replied lamely. “It came up suddenly. Cordy called to talk to Willow and…well, everything went kinda crazy.”
He nodded. “How was it?”
The question was polite and almost forced. The look on his face read for how very much he didn’t want to hear about her time with Angel. How pained he was at the thought of what might have happened between them.
Well, it was time to dispel that theory.
“Terrible,” she replied.
Spike paused and arched a brow, forbidden shades of hope sparking his eyes. “Terrible?”
“Absolutely terrible.” Buffy shook her head. “We didn’t know how to act around each other. He was…diplomatic. Decided to relate to me by telling me how he felt when he had to crawl out of his grave. Asked me how the family was. Looked at his watch every fifteen minutes…really, he had more restraint than I did. At one point, I think I started a mental inventory of all the stuff he has to put in his hair to keep it up like that.”
He smirked appreciatively. “Stupid sod. Had you there all to himself—”
“It wasn’t like that. I went because I thought I had to.”
“Had to?”
She shrugged. “It was Angel. It was me and Angel, and the massive saga of the thing we used to have. Like I was fulfilling a duty to the writers of our soap-opera, or finally giving that annoying teenager that I once was a reason to let go of this idealized version of the perfect man he once modeled for me. But I’m not that person anymore. I don’t know when I stopped being that person, but it was before I died. I think he just wanted to go back to Cordelia.”
“Peaches an’ the Prom Queen?”
“Well, he didn’t come right out and say it, but there’s something there. He might not even know it yet.” Buffy exhaled deeply and tossed her head back, eyes fixed on the stars. “I regretted going the minute I got there.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t with me.”
Spike stopped walking again and stared at her in awe. “What?”
She smiled and turned. “Look, I know I’m insane with the mixed signals, especially of late, but I’m not blind. I know what you’ve done for me. And I know that I feel…like myself when I’m with you. Angel’s not that for me anymore. He hasn’t been for a while…I don’t know when it changed, but it changed. I was too stupid to see it.”
“Buffy…”
“I just…you’ve been the only one I can rely on since…” She gestured inarticulately. “And I don’t mean for that to mean…well…it’s not the reason I’m with you right now. Well, yeah, it’s one of the reasons, but it’s not the end-all-be-all of reason-dom.”
Spike smiled softly. “You’re not makin’ any sense, pet.”
She offered a nervous laugh. “You think I don’t know that?” Their gaze held for a minute longer before she broke away, her body wrought with tension. “You think there are no oogly booglies out tonight because I decided to be proactive and patrol?”
She was being a coward again, and they both knew it. However, there was something in Spike’s eyes now that hadn’t been there before. Some distant strand of hope that he was reading her the way she wanted to be read. That he could tell what her message was even if he had to interpret the grey area that lived between the lines. He didn’t call her on it, though. Didn’t drag her insecurity out and demand she make sense of her cold feet. Instead, he shrugged and went with the flow, and she was grateful that he did. “S’pose to be a demon holiday,” he replied, grabbing her hand and continuing on the worn path through the cemetery.
She would never tire of the feel of his flesh against hers. “Yeah, and you’ve been living on the Hellmouth how long?”
“I jus’ figure the locals don’ know the rules.”
“Yeah, and you’re such a rule-follower, huh?”
“’Course not, luv. That’d be borin’.” He grinned. “Speakin’ of kettles an’ pots…”
“I do suppose it’s detrimental to my title to hang with vamps, huh?” She shook her head. “I’ve never been much for rules.”
Spike held up a hand. “Woman after my own heart,” he replied, withdrawing a pack of smokes and plucking one between his lips.
You have no idea.
“Lousy vamps,” she said instead, kicking at the grass.
He winced. “That smarts.”
“Not you. The lack of like-minded rebels that are supposed to be giving me a hard time tonight.”
“Awww, poor Slayer.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you have the argumentative skills of a three-year old?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re sexy as hell when you’re reprimandin’ me?” Spike winked and took a puff of his ciggie, his eyes sparkling as her cheeks reddened. “What’s this? Are you blushin’?”
She glanced down, overwhelmed with a girlish sense of modesty that was completely foreign to her. “No,” she denied coyly.
“You’re blushin’!”
“Am not.”
“’Cause I called you sexy?” His eyes danced. “Fuck, you’re adorable when you let yourself go.”
“I’m gonna be doing that a lot more around you, so be prepared.”
“Like a good boy scout.”
“You can’t be good at anything. Vampire, remember?”
He domed a brow challengingly. “I remember well enough,” he retorted, running his tongue over his teeth with a wicked and oh so welcome burn of lust in his gaze. “An’ I wouldn’t say I’m not good at anythin’, Slayer. There are a couple areas that I…excel in.”
“Pig.”
“Oh, witty retort.”
“Well, at least I got you out of the minefield.” She smiled and drew in a deep breath. “Is it ironic or perverted that I feel more alive in a graveyard than I do with my friends?”
Spike quieted and took a drag of his cigarette. “I’d say it’s jus’ tellin’. This is where you wanna be, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’?”
Buffy shook her head. “It’s funny. You spend so much time fearing death. Hell, I’ve gone through it twice now…though really, the first time only counted to the PTB because I didn’t even have time to see the white light before I was back in the land of the living. And yeah, with slayers, death is pretty much on the warning label. Gonna be ugly, gonna be painful, gonna happen fast, no time to enjoy life ‘cause you’re saving it for others. But I’ve already done that, and I know what’s waiting for me on the other side.”
The vampire just nodded.
“How is it that I can still fear death, even after all that?”
Spike shrugged. “You’re still human, luv,” he said. “Fuck, I’ve experienced death, too. Doesn’ mean I’m particularly lookin’ forward to meetin’ the stake that has my name on it.”
“If I had that much of a death wish, I would’ve just killed myself.”
“No, you wouldn’t’ve. You’re not a coward, Buffy. Suicide’s the path of cowards and martyrs. You’ve already done the martyr bit; you’re not a coward.”
She licked her lips. “How do you know?”
“I know. I know you. I know you bloody well, if I don’ say so myself. You’re many things, but there’s not a cowardly bone in your body.”
“You are so wrong.”
“Am I?”
Buffy nodded. “I’m terrified. God, Spike, I’m terrified of everything. Of how to pay for food and electricity this month. Of how to ask Willow and Tara for money without feeling like a criminal, even though I know I’m entitled to it. How to do my job when I know the outcome. How to walk through these cemeteries every night and pass my headstone and be expected to just take it with a smile and a nod. I’m scared of Dawn. Her grades are falling and she won’t listen to me when I tell her that she’s gonna be taken away if she doesn’t improve. If she doesn’t stop skipping school…or hanging out with the kids she hangs out with. Janice? She got suspended last week for smoking pot on school grounds. Dawn doesn’t listen to me! What kind of role model am I for her? ‘Do well in school because you don’t wanna be like me?’”
“Dawn worships you.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand that it could all end with one bad visit from social services. And everyone keeps looking at me and smiling and asking me if I’m okay and expecting me to be honest with them but at the same time, not wanting to know the truth.” A pause. All or nothing now. “And there’s you. I’m scared to death of you.”
His eyes went wide and they stopped walking again. “Buffy?”
“I…” She broke off, tearing her gaze away from his. “You scare me. What I’m feeling…everything that’s changed. It all scares me. And I want it but I keep running from it. Because that’s what I do. I can slay monsters and stop hellgods from destroying the world, but when it comes to heart-stuff, I’m no good. I’m just no good at this anymore. I used to be good at it. Then again, I used to be sixteen and I thought I was immortal.”
He was looking at her in awe. “Buffy…are you…”
“I don’t know what I am,” she replied airily, crossing her arms, still not looking at him.
Coward.
He took a step forward, cupping her cheek. “Look at me.”
“Spike—”
“Look at me.” She did. His eyes were crystal blue, and he burned her with the power behind his gaze. “You’ve gone through somethin’ none of these wankers, myself included, can even begin to imagine. It wasn’ hell, luv. They tore you out of a place where there are no tears. The fact that you haven’t fallen apart completely astounds me. You’re an amazing woman, Buffy. You’ve already made the ultimate sacrifice once. You’ve given more to this miserable world than they can bloody conceive. An’ anyone who expects more from you is out of their mind.”
Dammit, she’d promised herself tonight wasn’t going to be a night for crying. Tonight was supposed to be happy. Tonight was supposed to be her liberation. So how was it that she felt familiar tears stinging her eyes as her body begged her to collapse in the comfort of his embrace? How was it that he was the only one who got it?
He loves me.
She knew that, but her friends loved her, too. With as much as they had mucked up her existence, they loved her. And somewhere, they had her best interest at heart. They’d done what they’d done out of love. But they hadn’t rescued her; they’d punished her. And then they expected her to smile and be okay with it. As though she had any choice. How could she burden them with the knowledge of their crime? What would that accomplish?
Spike knew her secrets; he was the one she’d run to ever since crawling from the grave. And even if she hadn’t mentioned Heaven, she knew that he would be there still. Understanding even if she didn’t tell him. Offering his shoulder, his company, his everything if it would make everything better.
Buffy released a trembling sigh when she felt his lips brush against her forehead. He lingered there for a moment, then pulled back.
“You know I love you, right?” he asked softly. “I haven’t said it since…but you know I love you.”
She smiled a watery smile and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“I din’t wanna pressure you…din’t wanna throw that out there like I expect anythin’, ‘cause I don’t. If anythin’, you’ve given me more than I ever thought I’d…” Spike shook his head. “More than anythin’, sweet.”
If there’s anything you want to, oh say, tell him, now would be the time to do it, Logical Buffy told her, arms crossed and toe-tapping impatiently.
She saw eternity in his eyes.
The moment passed before her voice could be convinced to speak up. His hands fell back to his sides, leaving her skin cold and bereft. “Looks like the baddies aren’ gonna appease you t’night,” he said. “Want me to walk you home?”
The last place she wanted to go was home.
“Was jus’ bein’ chivalrous,” he clarified a quick second later. “I know you can get home by yourself. Jus’ don’t particularly want the night to end jus’ yet.”
“I don’t either.”
Sure. That she could say.
“Fancy headin’ back to the crypt to watch a seasonally appropriate flick, then?” He paused. “I admit it’s not posh, but it’d at least get the ambiance right.”
“Why, Mr. The Bloody, are you asking me on a date?” she teased.
That adoring smile that she loved so much spread across his lips, and he tilted his head, eyes flickering. “Would you say yes?”
“Are you gonna chain me up?”
“Only if you ask real nice-like.”
Buffy shook her head and chuckled. “Let’s go make with the movie watchage, chain-boy. Something nice and Halloweeny.”
“I already suggested that it be seasonally appropriate.”
“Yeah, well…okay. Consider that one yea vote for seasonal appropriateness.” She shrugged. “You have snacky goods at your place?”
“Weetabix?”
“Like…movie appropriate goods.”
“Well, we still have to head over to Restfield,” he observed. “An’ there’s a place we can stop on the way jus’ to make sure.”
Buffy nodded, a giddy rush claiming her body.
God this was really happening, wasn’t it? This was really happening.
Her inner debate over her feelings for him was over; she figured being honest with herself was the first step to take if she wanted to be honest with him. Now if she could just overcome her illogical jitters of telling him how much she loved him, all would be well.
As for now, they were on a date.
A date with Spike, on Halloween, in which they would curl up on the sofa in his crypt and watch scary movies. The night simply couldn’t get any better, though she was hoping against hope that it would.
Hoping for things she could have if she could defeat her fear of the unknown.
TBC
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