(Author's Note: I know it's been less than five hours since I posted Chapter Nine, but I figured SOMEONE should benefit from my illness-induced insomnia...)
Tara was up and about by Thursday night and she decided they could both play hooky and get the time in the sun early. Spike had never been happier to hear anything. He'd been dreading another encounter with the Slayer and he had just been given a free ride.
With any luck, he'd never see her again. Well, at least never have to sit next to her in classes. It was inevitable that they run into each other in a town this size.
The trip to the beach on Friday was preceded by a trip to a surf shop to buy boards and get them suitably attired. Tara picked out Spike's clothes as well as her own. She bought him three pairs of board shorts. They were all vaguely the same Hawaiian-style surf flowers. A pair that was dark blue, a red pair, and finally one in dark green.
Excepting the red, these were colors that had taken Spike weeks of convincing to wear in the past. He put them on now without argument. She also picked him out a pair of Birkenstocks, some sunglasses, and a few non-black muscle shirts. She refused the black one's he kept nudging towards her.
“Spike, you own too much black as it is. It won't dust you to wear white every once in a while.”
For herself, she picked out some modest beach clothes and a fashionable one-piece. This was where Spike drew the line. He convinced her to try on several bikinis and actually buy one.
Tara had never owned such an article of clothing in her life. She was certain she would never wear it. She told him so and he would hear none of it.
“You look absolutely lush in it, love. You can't expect all the birds to come calling if you don't flash the wears every now and then.”
Tara rolled her eyes and bought a very large bottle of strong sunscreen. She burnt easily and she knew Spike would, too. One hundred and twenty-odd years out of the sun probably left his skin without any protection.
Tara was still set against wearing the bikini until they got to the station at the beach to meet their instructor. Tara got a good look at Julia and decided maybe she didn't look chubby in the two-piece after all.
* * *
Surfing turned out to be more fun than Tara could believe. Spike was a natural, of course. All that vampiric grace and perfect balance made him born to surf. Or turned to surf, Tara corrected herself.
Julia kept asking him if he was quite sure this was his first time on a board.
Tara was not a natural. But she had a lot of fun making mistakes.
Spike was having a blast. He war-whooped every time he wiped out and every time he didn't. The only thing he didn't like was Tara dragging him to shore every two hours to slather on more waterproof sunscreen.
“Trust me, Spike. You'll thank me for this when you're not in agony tonight with sunburns.”
Julia was more interested in Spike than Tara, sadly. They were invited to a barbeque that evening on the shore and Tara didn't even think to refuse.
Sitting in the cooling sand with her best friend drinking hard lemonade and eating messy ribs was an excellent way to end any day. The fire cast an eerie glow and someone brought out a guitar and someone else brought out some bongos and the sounds of Dispatch's 'The General' floated along the breeze.
She found herself singing along when Spike did and she felt absolutely infinite.
Spike had taken piles of notes, she had the books, she was smart and school was going to be fine.
She lived in a gorgeous little house she was having so much fun decorating with her very best friend in the world. She was thousands of miles away from Mississippi.
Life was wonderful.
'I have seen the others and I have discovered, that this fight is not worth fighting. And I've seen their mothers and I will no other to follow me where I'm going.
'So take a shower and shine your shoes, you've got no time to lose. You are young men you must be living… Go now, you are forgiven…”
* * *
“So was it a good first day in the sun?” Tara asked, knowing he'd purposely saved up his first sun experiences for her.
Spike laughed wildly and turned cartwheels in the sand.
Tara took that as a yes and joined him feeling a bit drunk and a bit stoned and a whole lot of bubbly happiness.
* * *
Eating lunch on the patio of the Sunshine Café had been Tara's Saturday plans. It was a whole foods restaurant and the only one of it's kind in Sunnydale. Tara had been dying to try it but it was only open during the day. Tara still hadn't worked up the courage to go into a 'sit-down' restaurant by herself.
They'd been peacefully sipping fruit spritzer and munching on a shared Cobb Salad when Spike closed his eyes while chewing and turned his face upward. Tara knew he was lost in the moment. She mimicked him and enjoyed a few minutes of warm sunshine on her face with the taste of avocado in her mouth.
Then came the rude awakening, “What the Hell is going on?”
A total stranger had waked up to them from the sidewalk and grabbed Spike's neck.
* * *
Buffy had been walking down the street thinking about how powerless she felt about Oz leaving and Willow's subsequent devastation. He had seemed like the perfect boyfriend.
You know, if you could get over the whole werewolf thing.
That was when she saw him. And did a double take. And saw him again.
Spike, sitting in an outdoor café in full sunlight with some earth-mother type in a swishy peasant skirt.
It couldn't possibly…
But it was, she stomped right over and grabbed him to check his pulse, “What the Hell is going on?”
* * *
Spike wrenched her hand away from his neck, “Bloody Hell, Slayer. Do you often walk up to people minding their own business and choke them?”
“No, but you aren't a person.”
Tara felt the words like a slap. How DARE she? Tara no longer cared that this was a perfect stranger. No one got to talk to Spike like that. He WAS a person.
And for that matter, who made her the judge for all mankind?
Tara was about to open her mouth when she was saved the trouble.
“Excuse me, miss. But you are causing a disturbance. I'm going to have to ask you to leave.” The waiter looked like he meant business. A rather mean looking busboy was at his direct right.
* * *
Buffy looked around and realized everyone was staring at her again. She flushed red, “Sorry.”
And she quietly moved away. But she leaned in a whispered, “This isn't over. I want some answers.”
Tara felt herself bristle again. She had to consciously shove her hand down from waving a nasty hex in the other girl's direction.
As she left, Spike cocked one eyebrow, “Well, now you've met the Slayer, not that bad at all is she?”
Tara snorted and went through a mental list of relatively harmless but terribly embarrassing curses the girl could be afflicted with.
And strangely enough, felt no guilt at all.
* * *
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