A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys rule! A few people were wondering why Buffy and Spike don’t recognize each other, so here goes: first, Buffy knows exactly who Spike is, but Spike doesn’t really realize who she is because if you haven’t seen someone in over a hundred years (and you think they’re dead anyway), you probably aren’t expecting to run into them anywhere. : ) Plus, after so long, your memory of the person grows hazy anyway no matter how much you loved them. Hope this helps a bit. All will be explained eventually.
Chapter 3
They walked in silence for several blocks, Buffy’s right arm linked through Spike’s left, her left hand resting on top of her right. Without thinking about it, Spike had crooked his left arm in a manner of long forgotten Victorian values. They turned a corner and the moonlight glinted off a previously unnoticed ring on her left hand. Buffy quickly moved her left hand out of sight before Spike could inspect the ring closely.
“When’s the date, pet?”
Buffy glanced at the ground. “It’s come and gone,” she said softly.
“Not a happy marriage then?”
“Not a marriage at all.”
“What happened to the bloke?”
Buffy paused a moment. “We…I think we are lost to each other.” She sounded so sad that Spike felt bad for her.
“Cheer up luv. Any bloke who’d leave a pretty, little thing like you must be out of his bloody mind. Not to be insensitive or nothing, but look, you don’t appear much more than nineteen. You’ve got yer whole life ahead of you to find some man to treat you right,” Spike told her.
“How do you know that he left me?” Buffy asked. “Maybe I left him.”
Spike shook his head. “You look too sad to have left ‘im. Plus, yer still wearing the ring, so either he died or he left you.”
“Maybe we are dead to each other. Maybe it is fate’s design that we be separated.”
Spike cocked his head and studied her. “I try not to put too much stock in fate. Fate has never done me any good…Love has never done me much good either,” he added after a moment.
“Why do you say that? Have you never been in love?” Buffy’s voice was very quiet.
“Oh, I’ve played love’s fool many a time. Never got to keep the girl though, lost every time,” Spike answered.
“How did you lose?”
“Lost one to death, one…well, I never had her at all, and don’t think I ever really wanted her in the first place when I look back upon it. Think she was more a means to an end… Anyway, lost the other two to other men,” Spike snorted. “Actually lost the other two to the same man.”
Buffy started to answer, but suddenly tensed and stopped walking.
“Wot’s wrong?” Spike asked.
Buffy produced a dagger from the side of her boot. “I hope that you’re armed,” she hissed.
Spike slid into his vampire features. “Always.”
Two demons appeared in front of them. They were exactly as Faith had described to him. Gray cloaks covered them and he could see that their eyes and mouths were sewn shut. The demons went straight for Buffy, ignoring Spike completely.
Spike attacked the demon anyway and noticed that Faith had not lied about how strong they were. Punching the demon in the face had the same outcome as punching a brick wall. He glanced at Buffy and watched her slide the blade of her dagger easily into the demon’s neck. The neck must be the weak spot. Spike grabbed the demon with his fangs and tore its throat out. He gagged on the blood and spit it out on the sidewalk.
“What the bloody hell was that?”
“A form of Bringers,” Buffy answered, wiping her dagger off.
“From the First?” Spike asked sharply.
“Sorta.” Buffy began walking again, quickly this time.
Spike followed her. “What do you mean ‘sorta’?”
“When you say the First, you mean the First Evil, correct?”
“What other First is there?”
Buffy sighed, exasperated. “There are many Firsts. Think about it, there can be no First Evil without a First Good. Just like there can be no First Hate without a First Love.”
“Wouldn’t hate fall under evil and love fall under good?” Spike asked.
“No, because you can be good and feel hate just like you can be evil and feel love,” Buffy answered.
“Alright, ‘ll play along. Which First do those bringers belong to and why are they after you?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy answered.
“Yet you don’t want to come to the Watchers Council even though they might be able to help you out.”
“The Council has never wished to help anyone without an ulterior motive.”
“How do you know that, luv?”
“I just do.” Buffy turned sharply down an alley and stopped in front of a door.
Spike almost ran right into her. The door had been carefully concealed, probably with magic, so that you didn’t notice it unless you were looking at it dead on.
Buffy unlocked the door and walked in. “You may come in, if you like,” she said over her shoulder.
Spike walked in and closed the door behind him. “It’s not safe to invite strangers into your home; especially strangers that you know are vampires.”
Buffy flipped on the living room light and turned to face him. “You want me to go with you to the Council, you aren’t going to hurt me. Besides, even with an invite, this house has a spell on it. No one may enter this house that means me harm. You entered; therefore, you mean me no harm. I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home.”
As soon as Spike heard the water running, he began to inspect the room that he was standing in. It was sparsely furnished and not decorated at all. There was a couch and a coffee table in the middle of the room. A table with one chair sat off to the corner. Filled bookcases lined the walls of the room. Spike wandered over and began scanning the titles: books of spells, books on vampires, books on prophecies, books on demons, a few journals that almost looked like Watcher journals, books on poetry, a few mystery novels, and all the classics. Everything looked like first editions.
The water shut off. Spike wandered over to the couch and sat down. Buffy emerged from the other room moments later. She handed him a blanket and a pillow.
“I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to sleep on the couch if you’d like,” she said.
“Thanks, luv. Think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
She smiled as she walked out of the room. “Goodnight.”
“Night, luv.”
Spike walked back over to the book shelf and picked one of the poetry books from the shelf. He thumbed through it absentmindedly until, hypnotized by Buffy’s steady heart beat and breathing, he fell asleep.
XXX
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