Rating: PG 13, angst, heartache
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask
Note: set in AU season 6.
Dedicated to Fayth who asked so persistently for more and Gabrielle who let me bounce ideas off of her and offered a few suggestions.
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Spike stood blinking at the place where Willow had stood mere moments before. He could probably go into the building, could even follow the scent of her to her room, but... Somehow, he didn't think that she'd let him in just now. Not unless it was to douse him in holy water. "That could have gone better."
"Should I even ask why seeing you has her so upset?" The chit that his Red had been talking to was looking him over, her eyes both hard and predatory.
"Red and I were involved a while back. Something happened that shouldn't, and now she's here." He lit a new cigarette from the dying remnant of the last one, inhaling the smoke to keep from thinking too much about his colossal stupidity.
"Right, you followed her here from California because there was a misunderstanding?" There was sarcasm in her voice.
"Actually, I tracked her down to try to get her back. There really isn't much to misunderstand - I was a damn idiot, and I'm very sorry now. The question is how do I get her to listen to that?" His eyes had gone once more to the stairs that Willow had rushed up.
"Grovel profusely, and send flowers." The girl smirked at him, and pulled out a scrap of paper, scribbling down something. "Have them delivered to her apartment. But if you hurt her again, so help me God, I'm going to track you down and kick your ass."
Part of him wanted to laugh at the idea that some mortal college student could kick his ass, but another part was glad that she cared enough about Willow to make the threat. "I don't want to hurt her. And I figured that I'd have to grovel, probably for a damn long time. But I won't be able to do that if she keeps running away."
With a shrug, the girl turned away and started up the stairs. "You figure that one out. I have a test to study for. But she's got that night class every Tuesday and Thursday."
Spike meandered away from the door, pausing to look up. Which window was hers? Did she have the light on, or was she up in her room, sitting in the dark? He looked at the paper, reading the scrawled words. `Forest Ridge, apartment 207'. That should put her room right about there… He frowned at the dark window, pained by the idea of her sitting along and miserable in a dark room. Even more painful was the knowledge that it was his fault.
There had to be a way to fix this, to at least… to at least convince her to let him apologize. And he wasn't leaving until he figured out what it was. He'd stay here, trying to watch over her. Maybe he should make sure nothing tried to eat her on the way back from that class? He could send her flowers, maybe those little chocolates with the caramel centers, and some cute little stuffed animals? He'd just have to keep it up until he convinced her to listen.
The dozen red roses that he had delivered the next day ended up thrown to the ground outside her window, which at least confirmed which one it was. On the brighter side, he hadn't seen the card that he'd had delivered with it. Maybe that was something?
The next day, he tried something different, thinking that perhaps the problem was that he'd sent roses. Red roses, the most common thing that a man could send to a woman, the flowers that any man would send to any woman. Willow wasn't just any woman, she was special, and he had to make certain that she knew he didn't just view her as a replacement for someone else or a warm body in his bed. Instead of the traditional roses, he had a colorful bouquet of mixed flowers that had white, blue, pink, yellow, pale purple and a couple tiger lilies, which were the only flowers in the whole batch that he could actually identify, and those because Willow had told him once that she liked them. He could still remember asking her 'Luv, what the hell is a tiger lily? Does it have stripes, or act sort of like catnip on the overgrown cats?'. The card said `I'm sorry – let me tell you in person? S.'
He followed her back from her class, not quite close enough for her to see him. She looked so withdrawn, as if she was holding everything inside of her. Was she thinking about him, about them? Was she plotting his painful torture as… well, if it was part of the groveling, he'd grit his teeth and take it, but if it was just out of anger and pain he'd be less happy with the end result. Or maybe there was someone else trying to win her affections? He felt himself growling at the very idea of anyone else even thinking about touching his Willow.
Maybe he should just consider it progress that she hadn't thrown out his gift? Spike shook his head, watching as she walked, shivering occasionally from the cool wind. Willow needed a better coat if she was going to be in a place that got cold, not that little thing from Sunnydale. Maybe he could give her one, to keep her from getting sick? He really didn't think that she'd be going back to Sunnydale for anything short of an Apocalypse, and maybe not even then.
Only after she'd returned safely to her apartment, the light shining out from the window as she moved inside did he stop lurking. What sort of coat to get for her? It had to be warm, and something that she would like, something that would appeal to her without making her feel like she was being pushed back to the girl that she had been years ago.
He started searching, spending hours looking for just the right one. In the end, he found one that reminded him of her. It was a deep green that was almost black, with gold threads worked into the seams, and lined with something that looked like golden silk, although the texture wasn't right for silk. The cut was definitely feminine without being too revealing, which made him think of her as well. He had it wrapped carefully into a box, pausing to scrawl a message over the top - For you, to keep you warm and safe.
Spike left it in front of her apartment door, planning dire punishment to anyone who might dream of interfering with it besides Willow. All that was left was to hope that she would like it, hope that she might be willing to let him back into her life, even if it wasn't right back into her arms. He wished that he could be there to see the look on her face when she found it, but it would probably be after the sun had risen.
Hopefully, she'd like the coat better than the roses.
Then he retreated to the miserable motel room that he was staying at, cursing the sunlight that prevented him from being able to see her, to wait for her. Would she like it or hate it? Would she be willing to speak to him yet, or would he have to send her cute fluffy toys and chocolates with the caramel or almonds inside? What if even after all the effort to get her to listen, she still wanted nothing to do with him? What if she listened to his apology and demanded that he get out of her life, that he go away and never come back? Well, that was almost easy – he didn't think that he could just go away.
What made it stickier was the fact that he knew that convincing her to let him apologize wasn't all that it would take to win her back to him. He'd been foolish, and had hurt her deeply. How could he convince her that she was the only woman that he wanted, that he wasn't just looking for a warm body? How could he make her see that she meant more to him than anyone else? He'd always found himself watching Dru, wondering when the next time that she'd cheat would be, and he didn't want Willow to have those doubts – especially since he wouldn't cheat on her. Belief was emotion, and it didn't work neatly. If he wanted to make an omelet, there were simple steps – crack the eggs, add a few things, stir and heat – you get an omelet. But with emotions, he could grovel, send flowers, candy, anything you could name, and he had no way to know if she would believe him or not, if she still cared the same way or not.
But he had to try. He'd known that she was special from the beginning, although it hadn't been until they'd become involved that he'd started to appreciate just how much she did to help. Not just the magic or the research, but the little things to smooth the tensions, or the ways that she' keep them from getting to caught up. Xander did some to keep the tensions down, but… Those two had kept things moving almost smoothly, and her departure had left things in a lurch. Not that anything had been quite the way it should have been since she'd cast that resurrection spell. It wasn't until she'd left him that he'd realized just how firmly she'd wound herself around his heart, how deeply the pain of her leaving could go. Without her, he couldn't see the point of going on, not that he would actually do himself in.
He didn't see her the night after he'd left the coat at her door like an offering. He didn't see any sign that she'd got the gift, or any sign that she'd rejected it like the roses. He did find a couple young vampires trying to prey on the college students, and quietly killed them, worried by the possibility of those young fools trying to hurt his Willow. He tried to figure out where all the buildings were around the campus, so that he would have a better idea of where to find Willow and where she spent her days, and came to the conclusion that it was definitely a different caliber of school that the Sunnydale College.
Looking at a few of the bulletin boards in the various buildings, Spike had been a bit impressed. This wasn't just a different caliber of school, but it seemed like one that would be able to challenge Willow's mind academically. Surely it would be better – safer – for her to be challenged by chemistry and lectures on physics or anatomy than with trying to decipher a badly written German prophecy? Surely it would give her fewer nightmares to study the literature of the Romantic authors and the Neo-Raphaelites than to spend hours reviewing the habits of assorted demons?
He'd even found a few advertisements for poetry readings and literature discussions, and the part of him that was still William the aspiring poet had stirred deep inside of him. Maybe he could stay here, make a new life. Maybe he could even take a few night classes, listen to some of the readings? His mind had started spinning wispy images of himself making a new life here with Willow, no Slayers in sight to complicate things. Yeah…
But he had to remember to keep things in perspective. None of the happy, Slayer-free future that he'd been picturing would happen unless she would speak to him, forgive him. He would have to win her back, although that didn't mean that he couldn't look into a few things, like maybe a better home. Maybe he could check into the possibility of night classes as well? Then again, there could be a few problems on account of being dead, and not having one of those social security numbers. Actually, from a legal perspective, he was an illegal immigrant, not having a passport, or going through customs. The idea was actually enough to make him smile.
He spent the next day looking through a listing of houses and other buildings that were currently for sale. He didn't want to stay in this miserable hotel forever, and the apartment that Willow was in looked a bit small, judging from the outside windows. He also ordered another flower arrangement sent to her, one of little blue flowers and white roses, and a card reading
`I'm blue without you – S'.
He went out again the next night, hoping to see her, even if only from a distance. He wanted to make certain that she was alright, that she was safe. The precise shade of red that was her hair and the soft sound of her laughter had been missing from his existence. Actually, he was just past the looming white shape of the campus library when he saw a flash of red in the moonlight. A shade of red that he would know anywhere, the color of Willow's hair. Emotions churned inside of him – worry for her, confusion as to what she would be doing out after dark, joy at seeing her again, and hope.
Walking closer, he realized that she was wearing the coat that he'd given her. It fit just perfectly, and her hair shone against it. Surely that was a sign that there was hope for him, for them? He didn't think that he'd made any noise, but Willow stopped, her whole body going still for a moment. Slowly, she turned around, and looked right at him.
"Spike." Her voice held a complex blend of emotions, nervousness, hope, uncertainty, desire. "Thank you for the coat."
"Red… Willow." He took another step closer, so that they were close enough that if he reached out, he'd touch her soft cheek. "Can we talk? Please?"
It felt like an eternity that she stood there, her eyes flickering over him as she considered. Was she looking at him for changes? Trying to read his emotions, his intent from his face? Had she missed him as much as he'd missed her? Or was she trying to make up her mind what to say to him? Spike stood there, feeling hope and fear throb inside of him almost like a heartbeat.
"I think that might be good." Those soft words, and the little smile were the most precious thing in the world at that moment.
The End